he'll never love you (like i can) [ii/ii]

[uponinfinity]

one //

x

The party at Sehun’s house, Jongin thinks, is going pretty well. Most of the kids in attendance are friends, and friends of friends, and as Sehun’s one and only oldest (and best) friend, Jongin knows them all. They pat him on the back, fistbump him, shake his hand as they come in. He points them in the direction of the food and the booze, and after a few minutes of polite conversation, the guests are off, and Jongin’s left to repeat the cycle again.

It really should be Sehun’s job, playing host, this being his party at his house and all, but Jongin finds he doesn’t really mind filling in. Standing by the door to let people in guarantees him the first sight of the friend he’d made a few months ago in his statistics class - the same guy he might have developed pretty intense feelings for over the course of the semester.

‘You see him, you jump on him,’ Sehun had instructed, hours earlier, before the party had started. They were sticky from carting in boxes of food and drink, and Jongin was already uncomfortable from the feeling of sweat making his tshirt stick to his back: Sehun was doing nothing to calm his nerves.

‘Not how it works,’ he had mumbled, shifting his gaze so it never met Sehun’s. He’d been all good and ready to go in the days prior, determined as he was to ask Kyungsoo out, but now, with the time finally upon him, his nerves were finally making their appearance. He didn’t think he’d be able to do it.

Sehun had gone to stand right in front of him, long hands grasping his shoulders. ‘No backing down, man,’ he’d said, strictly, even though Jongin still refused to look him in the eye. ‘If not for your sake, mine. I’m not sitting through another whiny night from you, with Kyungsoo being the cause for it. You get your chance tonight. You take it, hear me?’

‘I hear you,’ Jongin had said, and even though he was still doubtful, now, amongst the crush of people crowding Sehun’s house and with his drink in his hand, he actually dared think that he felt the courage. He felt like he might be able to do it tonight. And when Kyungsoo finally turned up at the door - he was proud to say that courage was still there.

He was going to do it, tonight.

‘Hey, Soo,’ says Jongin, smiling easily at the elder. Kyungsoo smiled back at him, apologised for being late, and Jongin shook his head. ‘No big deal,’ he says, before proceeding to usher Kyungsoo off in the direction of the kitchen, hearing himself promise the elder food even amidst the racket his heart was making.

‘SPIN THE BOTTLE!’ someone announced, not an hour later, when Jongin was still in the kitchen with Kyungsoo. They were seated at Sehun’s dining table, and Kyungsoo laughed when a bunch of his and Sehun’s mutual friends barrelled towards him, shoved him aside so they could sit at the table, too.

‘Where’s the bottle?’ asks Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes before he downs the contents of his bottle in one shot, setting it down in the middle of the table as he winces from the alcohol attacking his system.

‘There,’ he says, and the rest of the group cheer.

‘Who’s spinning first?’ hollers Jongdae, shoving himself between Baekhyun and Kyungsoo.

‘Jongin!’ Sehun supplies, in a tone that suggests that he thinks he’s being helpful, and when Jongin turns to look at him, the younger just gives him a smile. Not too hard, he mouthed, and grinned when Jongin’s fingers touched the bottle.

This is stupid, Jongin thinks, the cold, damp glass of the bottle resting under his fingertips. He flicks his wrist, somewhat powerfully, and leans back as he watches the bottle turn and turn and turn, eyes following the mouth end of it until it finally stops.

His friends start whooping, his ears start ringing.

His eyes fly up to meet the person the bottle is pointing at.

Kyungsoo.

The elder smiles a little uncertainly, shrugs at Jongin when their eyes meet. ‘The bottle stopped,’ says Kyungsoo, and his voice isn’t any different than it was a few minutes ago, but something about it makes a chill run down Jongin’s spine. Lady Luck must be smiling down on him, tonight.

Jongin mirrors Kyungsoo’s movements when the latter stands and leans over the table, his soft hand landing on the crook of Jongin’s neck. Kyungsoo’s eyes fall a little further closed, go hooded when their faces are a breath away from each other’s, and Jongin feels his heart leap from his chest right up into his throat - this is really happening.

He doesn’t have much time to admire Kyungsoo from this close, not with all their friends watching them. But he does notice the beautifully smooth curve of the arch of Kyungsoo’s nose, how long his eyelashes are, how beautiful the flush of his cheeks looks, sitting just underneath his skin.

He’s so beautiful.

And when Kyungsoo tilts his head a certain way, when their lips meet, when their noses press together as they kiss - Jongin feels like he’s soaring. He’s high up in the clouds, now, months of longing finally culminating in this moment: his lips against Kyungsoo’s, Kyungsoo’s fingers in his hair as he opens his mouth, lets Jongin taste him. Fireworks exploding behind his eyelids, heart beating rapidly in his ribcage - the feeling that he doesn’t think he could possibly go on living the rest of his life, not being able to feel this way again, not being able to do this with Kyungsoo again.

They pull away to the sound of catcalls, Jongin’s lips just as swollen as Kyungsoo’s as they sink back down into their seats, the elder getting nudged by Baekhyun, the younger getting violent pats on the back from Sehun.

The way Kyungsoo smiles at him over the course of the rest of the game - secretly, shyly, like they shared something nobody else at the table could possibly know about - it gives him hope. It plants, inside him, courage.

And that’s how, a little while later, once the game has lost its excitement and the thick of the crowd in Sehun’s house has dispersed, Jongin convinces himself to go and find Kyungsoo. He shrugs off conversation with other people as politely as he can, smiles friends off when they try to talk to him. He has to do this now, or he’ll never have the courage to again.

‘He’s out there,’ says Jongdae, when Jongin asks the elder if he’d seen Kyungsoo. There’s a little bit of a smirk on the elder’s lips, and Jongin can’t really tell why - they’re friends, yeah, but there was no way the elder knew about his feelings for Kyungsoo. Still, he’d told him where Kyungsoo was, so he puts the smirk down to the amount of drink Jongdae must have had that night, and sets off in the direction Jongdae had indicated.

He pushes past a few people, gets to the glass sliding doors that lead out to Sehun’s patio. It’s pretty dark outside, and Jongin doesn’t really know what Kyungsoo would be doing out there alone, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he works on trying to subdue his nerves, maybe runs over the lines he’d practiced in his head time and time again in preparation of this moment one last time - and takes a deep breath.

He’s been waiting long enough to do this. Most of his friends didn’t take a whole semester to admit to the person they liked that they had feelings for them, and Jongin had lost track of the amount of times Sehun had told him to just grow a pair and ask.

And when he thinks of that kiss - he touches his fingertips to his lips. It was like discovering a beautiful new world between Kyungsoo’s lips, that feeling he got when they kissed, and Jongin knows he’s never felt something so right before in his life.

Kyungsoo is the one for him.

He just has to get the elder to see that, too.

His fingers catch in the small dip of the door lock and he pulls it open, goes over the words in his head again - Hey, Kyungsoo. I know this might sound a little awkward, coming from me, but -

But - those words never get the chance to fall from his lips, those words never reach Kyungsoo’s ears.

Because when Jongin steps outside, into the sticky summer night air, what he sees is enough to choke those words into a silent grave, it’s enough for him to feel like the new world he’d just discovered was only an illusion, a fragile one that’s crumbling before his very eyes.

Because there, shrouded in darkness except for the minimal lighting overhead, leaning against the side of Sehun’s house, is Kyungsoo. Beautiful Kyungsoo, captivating Kyungsoo, otherworldly Kyungsoo - with Chanyeol’s lips pressed against his own, with his fingers in Chanyeol’s hair, with Chanyeol’s arms gripping his waist.

And Jongin’s whole body is telling him to go, telling him to run, his brain giving one last shove to save his heart - but it’s no use. Once cracks form at an alarming rate - much like what’s happening with Jongin’s heart, now - there’s no stopping the inevitable shatter, the inevitable destruction. The newborn hope Jongin had cradled so close to his chest only moments ago was being snatched away, being stolen from him before he could even blink.

He stumbles backward into the house, his heart feeling like a weight he’d never borne before, sitting right in the middle of his chest. He was standing in the same spot less than a minute ago, almost skipping with anticipation, but now -

Now he wasn’t. Now he felt like a fool, like he’d wasted his time, like he’d been nothing but a starstruck loser who thought he had a shot at something - someone - untouchable.

He makes his way to Sehun’s bathroom, runs up the stairs two at a time, ignores the couples making out in the hallway.

He locks the door behind him, he crumples to the floor.

Seconds. Seconds, that’s all it took.

And yet - Jongin still can’t stop thinking about the kiss.

It was perfect.

x

Jongin sits, thinking about his first kiss with Kyungsoo, alone in the dark of his apartment, half an hour after he’d walked out on the elder after their second. He licks his lips, buries his fingers in his own hair, wants to yank it all out by the roots.

It was a mistake then, thinking that he had a chance with Kyungsoo.

He bites down on his bottom lip, breathes heavily through his nose.

It’s still a mistake, now.

‘You’re a fucking idiot,’ Sehun deadpans. They’re both in Jongin’s apartment, the day after, and Jongin is face down on his couch, hoping maybe he’ll be able to stay in this position and not be expected to move - or be otherwise disturbed in any way - for the rest of his life.

Sehun has other plans.

‘You finally make out with him - two weeks before his wedding? What the fuck is wrong with you?’ asks Sehun, and if he were the type to screech, he would already have by now. He isn’t, though, and Jongin’s somewhat grateful for that.

‘I know, alright,’ sighs Jongin, sitting up with his legs drawn to his chest so he can bury his face in his knees instead. ‘It was a dick move, and I’m a dick. I’m a massive dick.’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ says Sehun, biting back the urge to laugh. His best friend is in distress - he shouldn’t be laughing at him. ‘You’re just - slightly less intelligent than I thought you were. Don’t blame you.’

His words are met with silence. Jongin doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t even peek out to look at his friend. Sehun sighs, licks his lips before he speaks again.

‘I don’t want to tell you to apologise,’ he begins, leaning forward so his elbows are on his knees, ‘But I don’t really see any other way. It’s going to be really awkward at the ceremony if you don’t.’

‘I’m not going,’ mumbles Jongin.

‘What?’
‘I’m not going.’

Sehun’s mouth drops open. ‘What? Dude - what are you even talking about. You have to go.’

‘I don’t.’
‘Look - it’s his fucking wedding, man - ’
‘And that’s exactly why I don’t want to go.’
‘You’re his best friend.’

Jongin lifts his head then, rests it on his arms as he looks at Sehun. ‘So?’ he challenges, and if he weren’t in the process of soldering his heart back together, Sehun would have punched him.

‘Jongin - it isn’t worth it. Okay? I’m telling you now - it isn’t worth it.’
‘What are you talking about?’

Sehun massages his temples with two long fingers, clasps them together again before he speaks. ‘Your friendship, okay? At the end of the day - you’ll always still have the chance to salvage that with him. It might not be what you want to have with him, but - but is losing him entirely worth it? Is your pride really that important to you?’

Jongin’s throat runs dry. He doesn’t really know what to say. He looks away, shame beginning to moisten his eyes and he doesn’t want Sehun to see him cry. He doesn’t want to show anyone how weak he’s become.

Still, he doesn’t cover his ears, and the next words Sehun utters are heard with such clarity that it reminds Jongin of a well-cut diamond: shaped with precision, cut without forgiveness.

‘And if that pride is really all that’s standing in your way - can you even say you ever really loved him?’

Monday morning is almost painful for Jongin. He wakes up knowing that he’s going to have to face Kyungsoo today, knowing that it’s going to be difficult avoiding someone when you work on the same floor, three cubicles over. Still - he doesn’t think it would be impossible. So when his alarm rings an hour early, he doesn’t make for the snooze button. Instead, he swings his legs out of bed - ignoring how the wood beneath his feet is still the kind of cold only early morning could bring - and heads straight to the shower, gritting his teeth when cold water kisses his skin.

He gets dressed in record time, stops by a coffee shop for something to warm him up a bit on the way to work, and is grateful that he manages to make it there before eight. It means he has time to get in his chair and set himself up to be ignored by Kyungsoo for the rest of the day, hopefully all the way up until it’s time for him to go home.

When he gets there, he finds a bright yellow post-it note stuck on the top of his closed laptop, one that’s written in Junmyeon’s hasty hand. Need to see you, first thing. In office by 9, come to my room ASAP, it says, and Jongin’s brow furrows. He makes a mental note of it before he crumples up the note and throws it away.

He sets his things down and takes a long drag from his cup, ducks his head when people start filing into the office a good half hour later. He can hear the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice talking to someone else, and Jongin’s quick to get out of his chair and rush over to Junmyeon’s room, lest he be spotted. He doesn’t want to face Kyungsoo yet. He’ll probably never be ready to.

It’s empty, when he gets there. The lights are off and Junmyeon’s probably still on his way, so Jongin makes himself comfortable in the chair opposite Junmyeon’s, across the desk. His eyes are telling him to take a nap, but his mind tells him no. He might be a long-time friend of Jongdae’s, but that wasn’t a reason for him to expect Junmyeon to tolerate unprofessional behaviour.

So instead he leans back - Junmyeon wasn’t the type of boss to demand his team be rigidly disciplined around him, he liked them to be at ease; just not overly informal - rests his head on the back of the chair and looks up at the ceiling, counting the seconds that go by.

About five minutes later the door creaks as it swings open, the lights are switched on, and Jongin hears a sound behind him that makes it sound as if someone had just jumped. ‘Jongin?’ calls Junmyeon, and the younger swivels around in his chair. ‘What are you doing here? Before me, I mean?’

‘Nothing,’ says Jongin, smiling easily at Junmyeon. ‘It’s just that I haven’t really got much to do at the moment, and I thought I’d just come by ASAP, like you said.’ He leaves out any mention of Kyungsoo. He doesn’t want word to get out to Jongdae, because telling Jongdae something is the equivalent of telling Baekhyun something, and Jongin would rather not wake up to eager faces crowded around his bed, demanding answers.

‘Oh,’ says Junmyeon, nodding. He settles in his chair and powers on his desktop, before he faces Jongin again. There’s something different about the smile on his face, now, something Jongin can’t quite place, but he sits up straight, anyway. Thinking back on his performance as of late - he doesn’t think it could be anything bad.

‘What did you want to see me for?’

Junmyeon clears his throat. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard about the new manager slot opening up at the Wonju branch. Apparently the manager that’s there now - Kim Minseok, we joined up at the same time - he’s getting married to some guy from China in the new year, so he’s moving there.’

Jongin nods as he takes all of this in, anticipation running rampant in his veins. ‘Okay,’ he mumbles, urging Junmyeon to go on.

‘Well - last week I got a call from HR. They wanted to know if there was anyone I would recommend, and if I could give them a good report on the person. It didn’t take me long to decide, really. I gave them your name.’ Junmyeon smiles at this point, and Jongin knows he’s expected to smile back, but he can’t.

‘Jongin - they called again last Friday, after you left. Congratulations. You got promoted.’

Jongin’s heart is pounding so loudly in his ears it feels like he’s backstage at the big top, crashing cymbals and voices shouting and a general air of excitement surrounding him.

He got the job. He’s been promoted. He’s going to be based in a whole other city, which means - which means he’ll be away from Kyungsoo come the new year.

He has the chance to leave all of this heartbreak behind, start anew.

The thought of it makes his mouth go dry.

‘Junmyeon,’ he croaks, ‘Junmyeon. I - thank you.’

‘You don’t need to thank me, Jongin. It was your own hard work and perseverance that got you the - ’

But Jongin doesn’t let him finish, stoppers the long-winded, motivational speech that’s about to spill from Junmyeon’s lips with an interruption. He gets up, leans across the table, and hugs Junmyeon around the shoulders.

‘You don’t understand,’ he murmurs, grinning, now. ‘You don’t understand. But, just - thank you.’ He pulls away, pats Junmyeon on the shoulders, and turns around to leave, a very confused almost ex-boss staring after him.

This - this was the new beginning he’d been praying for.

He can finally see it.

He meets Sehun for dinner, that night, for a little celebration between the two of them. Jongin raises his eyebrows when Zitao walks past Sehun and gives him a flirtatious smile, and the younger responds by blushing. He watches with amusement as introductions are had and, a few minutes later, numbers are exchanged.

He’s leaning back against his chair when Sehun finally turns up at his cubicle. Jongin’s got a smug grin on his face, and the smile on Sehun’s vanishes almost instantly.

‘What?’ asks Sehun defensively. Jongin responds by allowing his grin to grow wider, and Sehun rolls his eyes. ‘It’s nothing, okay?’ Sehun says, the same tone of defensiveness still in his voice.

‘Sehun.’
‘What?’
‘I didn’t even say anything.’

Sehun smacks his palm against his forehead. ‘Look - can we just get out of here? I’m fucking starving and with the new promotion, I’m letting you pay for my food.’

‘What an honour,’ says Jongin mockingly, rolling his eyes.

They leave the building and walk up the street with relative haste, Sehun’s growling stomach urging them on. By the time they reach Sehun’s favourite bulgogi house, Jongin’s almost doubled up, panting by the door, but the younger pays no heed to his best friend’s suffering. He simply pushes the door open, tells Jongin to get a grip on himself, and yanks the elder in behind him.

‘What are you having?’ asks Jongin, his eyes scanning the menu. The prices aren’t too bad, considering. They’re in a beef place, after all.

‘Everything,’ says Sehun happily, fingers not even touching the menu.

Jongin drops his own. He fixes Sehun with a stare. ‘Everything?’ he deadpans. ‘Really?’

Sehun nods.

Jongin sighs.

Their first dish arrives a few minutes later, and Jongin swears he hasn’t seen Sehun as happy as he is when he gets his tongs around a strip of the uncooked beef.

‘So. How’d it happen?’ asks Sehun, eyes still fixed on his cooking.

‘It just - I mean I came in early, to avoid… Him, and when I got to my desk there was a note there waiting for me. And it told me to see Junmyeon. So I did, and… That’s how I got the job, I guess.’ Jongin’s elbows are on the table, his chin cupped in his palms.

‘Cool. And you start… When?’
‘In the new year. Apparently the old manager already has a place set up for himself in China, and he’s just filling in until I can arrive. The company will sponsor my accommodation until I find a place.’
‘Sweet.’
‘Yeah.’

Silence falls between the two men, the only sounds they can hear being the chattering of the other customers and the meat sizzling and spitting oil between them. Jongin begins counting the seconds between when the meat is turned and when the spitting stops, and Sehun lets out an audible sigh.

Jongin raises his eyebrows as Sehun sets his tongs down.

‘Okay, ’fess up. What’s the deal?’ asks Sehun, not bothering to hide the bored tone in his voice. ‘What’s got you so down?’

Jongin sighs, too, then. He isn’t really sure how to answer Sehun’s question, because, well - truth be told, he doesn’t really know what’s wrong with him. He looks Sehun in the eye. Sehun’s always been able to read him, he thinks. He settles on just trying to explain the situation to the younger.

‘It’s just that I… I finally have this chance, you know? The chance to make everything change. I mean - the job’s in a whole other city, Sehun, I’ll be living there, starting a whole new life there, meeting new people there.’ He stops here, his throat beginning to close up. He’d been so excited just hours earlier, but now, in front of Sehun - he doesn’t know if it were all a charade, or if these were his true feelings.

He’s scared.

‘There’s a “but” coming,’ observes Sehun. ‘Come on, tell your old friend Sehun. I’m waiting,’ he says. There’s a note of encouragement hidden between the bored words, and Jongin picks up on it.

‘I don’t feel right,’ says Jongin plainly. ‘If I leave the way things are now… I don’t think I’ll ever feel right, not even all the way in Wonju. I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know what to do… About him.’

Sehun picks up his tongs again, serves Jongin the first pieces of meat, taking the other half for his own plate. He sets the tongs back down and starts dipping his meat a little enthusiastically into the sauce. He takes a large bite before he speaks again.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

‘I don’t know,’ says Jongin, pushing his meat around in the sauce dish. ‘I mean… I said some pretty awful things to him, Sehun. And - and he knows now, he knows how I feel about him. It isn’t like I can just pretend that he doesn’t.’

Sehun chews on his food quickly, swallows before JOngin even lifts his to his lips. ‘Want me to tell you how to fix it?’ he offers.

Jongin nods.

‘Make up with him before you leave,’ Sehun says, with the air of a man telling his companion something that’s painfully obvious. ‘Go to his wedding. Valiantly offer your services as best man again to him. Do something dramatic like that, it’ll have you feeling better in no time,’ mutters Sehun, his concentration now shifting back to his food.

‘I don’t… I don’t know - ’

‘Look, Jongin - if you don’t do this, you’ll regret it. The way I see it, if you’re so scared of not knowing - you have two choices.’ Sehun holds up two fingers. He pulls one down. ‘One - going a week not knowing, going to the wedding, and then spending the rest of your life happy because at least now you have some kind of closure, or two. Two, you could spend the rest of your life not knowing, and regretting the fact that you didn’t turn up to your friend’s wedding, all because you’re so afraid of what’s going to happen.

‘Let me ask you a question, Jongin: maybe, in this life, you don’t get to spend the rest of forever with Kyungsoo, but is regret really the next best option for you? Is that really how you want to live your life?’

Jongin hangs his head.

‘If it is,’ says Sehun, blowing on his meat. ‘Then I suggest you make peace with it. I can’t help you. You’re the only person who can help yourself.’

Jongin sighs.

‘I know.’

Jongin doesn’t get much sleep that night. Every time he closes his eyes, he gets attacked by a new vision: an empty, shiny new apartment filled with ghosts of his past, the first time he kissed Kyungsoo, the first time Chanyeol kissed Kyungsoo in front of him, the second kiss he shared with Kyungsoo, the wedding, Kyungsoo’s face, Kyungsoo’s hair, Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo -

He sits up as the sun rises, clenches his fist around a pillow, hurls it at the wall.

Kyungsoo fills his every day even when he doesn’t want him to, his every night even though he’s tried so hard not to let him. He doesn’t want to live the rest of his life this way, with this guilt hanging over him, this sickening guilt - but he doesn’t know if he has the courage to go through with the only thing that will set him free.

He doesn’t know if he has the courage enough to go and see Kyungsoo, to go to his wedding, stand by his side as he gets married to someone else.

He doesn’t know if he wants to.

You’re the only person who can help yourself.

Sehun’s voice echoes in his mind, and Jongin throws himself back down on his bed, almost screams all his frustration out -

But he doesn’t.

Sehun’s right, he knows that now.

There’s only one thing he can do.

The day of the wedding dawns white and slightly warmer than the days prior, and Jongin feels his heart quaking with every step he takes towards the hotel. It stands before him, large and majestic and intimidating, and he wonders, for a brief moment, if what he’s doing is the right thing. How could he be sure that Kyungsoo even wanted to see him at this point? They haven’t spoken since that night.

You’re the only person who can help yourself.

Is regret really the next best option, for you?

Jongin shakes his head. He knows the answer to that question: it’s no. It always has been no, he was just too afraid to own up to it. Owning up to it meant acknowledging that he’d have to see Kyungsoo at some point, that he’d have to talk to him at some point.

He clenches one fist, grasps the wedding present in the other hand. The day has come and he can’t do anything to push back time, to rewind to when this choice was still a far off illusion for him.

He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, is immediately ambushed by a smiling Jongdae and Baekhyun, Junmyeon close by Jongdae’s side. ‘There’s our new Wonju manager!’ exclaims Jongdae, giving Jongin a pat on the back. ‘Congratulations!’

‘Thanks,’ says Jongin, somewhat ruefully. ‘Listen - do you know where Kyungsoo’s room is? I kind of need to talk to him.’

Jongdae steps back, surprise clear on his face. ‘What kind of a best man are you?’ he asks, his tone almost convincingly appalled, if it were not for the mischievous smile he was wearing on his lips. Jongin gives him a playful punch on the arm and a half-hearted excuse, and is sent on his way.

He reaches Kyungsoo’s room not long afterward, sparks shooting down his fingertips as he knocks. ‘Kyungsoo,’ he says, so gently he isn’t sure anyone on the other side of the door could actually hear him. ‘Kyungsoo, I’m coming in,’ he says, a little louder, and he pushes.

Light streams in from the windows, its white curtains drawn back to allow the sunlight to bathe the colours of the carpet lying on the floor. The bed is a four poster with sky blue and cream covers, the wood of all the furniture painted a similar cream. Swirling dustmotes make Jongin feel as though there were an air of magic in the room, and there, sitting at the foot of the bed - is Kyungsoo.

‘Hi,’ he says, a little breathlessly, when he spots the groom in his wedding garb. Kyungsoo’s hair has been slicked back, his deep purple tie looking especially striking against the white of his dress shirt. Draped across the back of a cream, floral patterned armchair is the blazer that goes with his black slacks, and Jongin almost lets his jaw drop.

‘Hello,’ returns Kyungsoo, slight uncertainty in his voice. ‘I… I didn’t think you would make it.’

Jongin sets the wedding present down on the table by the door, and hesitates. All his confidence has left him. If he thought he couldn’t do it before, now, with Kyungsoo so beautiful and right there in front of him - it’s nothing compared to what he feels now.

He scratches the back of his neck. ‘To be honest,’ he begins, ‘I didn’t think I would, either.’

Silence cradles them in its hold, and Jongin thinks they would stay like this forever if he doesn’t speak. So he clears his throat.

‘Listen, about what happened - ’
‘No, Jongin, you don’t have to say it - ’
‘Kyungsoo.’

The elder shuts his mouth. He looks into Jongin’s eyes, and the younger feels something pick at his heart when they meet. ‘Please,’ says Kyungsoo, ‘Please.’

And Jongin understands. Kyungsoo had said not more than one word to him, and Jongin still understood.

Please don’t tell me you love me.

Jongin licks his lips.

‘I’m sorry about the other night. I was way out of line, and you told me to stop, and I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. And all those things I said,’ he pauses, takes a deep breath, ‘I take it back. I take it all back. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have said any of those things to you.’

Jongin hangs his head, lets his gaze drop Kyungsoo’s and slide onto the carpeting.

‘Jongin - ’
‘Just accept it. Don’t say anything else, please, just. Just... Don’t.’

It’s Kyungsoo’s turn to hang his head, his shoulders slumped, and Jongin shuffles off into the armchair, careful not to jostle Kyungsoo’s blazer. He buries his face in his hands, and speaks from behind them. His voice comes out muffled, this way, but he thinks that’s okay. He’d rather have Kyungsoo think it was because of his hands blocking the sound, rather than the truth: his throat was closing up, his eyes were welling up - he was crying.

He hasn’t cried in a long time.

‘I got a promotion.’ His words break the silence between them, and Jongin still doesn’t look up. ‘I got a promotion, I’m going to be a manager, come the new year.’

‘Jongin, that’s great,’ says Kyungsoo, and Jongin can’t help but think that he hears a tone of relief in the elder’s voice. It stings a little.

Jongin takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes on his palms. He exhales sharply.

‘I’m moving to Wonju,’ he says, and he looks at his feet as he says it. ‘I’m packing up this weekend, and leaving. I’m going to live there, now.’

His words hang between them, and he can hear Kyungsoo trying to find a proper way to start his sentences, but he can’t. ‘That’s great,’ is all he says, again.

‘I’m leaving.’
‘I wish you luck.’
‘Thank you.’

Jongin walks towards the bathroom and washes his face, stares at himself in the mirror above the porcelain sink. Just over his shoulder he sees Kyungsoo, slouched at the foot of his bed, and - and it’s like the sun is hitting him in a different way, the light bending around him so that he sees Kyungsoo in a different way.

He cocks his head to the side. Kyungsoo’s engagement ring glistens, catches the light and strikes him straight in the eyes. In the elder’s hands is a box Jongin recognises - and something in his chest begins to slow down. He begins to feel calm, he begins feeling - he hopes - the onset of something he’s been waiting to feel for a long time: acceptance.

There are some things he won’t be able to change.

He steps out of the bathroom, every move he makes feeling steadier than the last, every second that passes calming his once-agitated heart. By the time he reaches the foot of the bed - by the time he reaches Kyungsoo, when their eyes meet - he knows what he’s doing is right.

He holds his handout - and for the first time in a long, long time, it isn’t in the hope that Kyungsoo will take it.

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to speak, but Jongin gets there first.

‘I heard you still need a best man?’

The ceremony, Jongin notes, was beautiful. Chanyeol hadn’t stumbled over his vows like Jongin used to wish he would, Kyungsoo’s voice didn’t shake as he made promises of forever. Jongin had stood by Kyungsoo’s side all throughout it, just about two feet away. Chanyeol had looked so nervous when it came time for him to speak - but Jongin had caught his eye, gave him a small smile and a nod of encouragement, and he saw the way the elder’s eyes changed, how they became set with determination.

Chanyeol recited his vows flawlessly right afterward, and as much as Jongin wanted to feel completely happy, completely at ease with this - he couldn’t deny that it still hurt. Somewhere inside, he thinks, he will always be carrying a torch for Kyungsoo. It may dim with time, it may lose its brilliance - but it would never, ever go out.

And that, he decides, as he joins the crowd in watching the newlyweds dance, that’s fine. That’s completely normal, an indication that he was properly living, instead of just being alive. It’s an odd feeling, Jongin acknowledges, still having feelings for Kyungsoo even after he’d handed him the ring that would bind the elder to someone else for the rest of his life, but there was also another feeling, a gentler spark, one that warmed him instead of burned him.

Chanyeol dips Kyungsoo clumsily, pulls him back up and presses his forehead to his husband’s. There’s a smile on Kyungsoo’s face that Jongin’s only ever seen when Chanyeol was holding him, when Chanyeol was speaking to him. It’s a different kind of happiness, he thinks, when you’re with the one you’re meant to be with.

He didn’t try to come between them. He’d removed himself from the situation, he’d accepted, however reluctantly, that he just wasn’t the one for Kyungsoo, and maybe it was a little too late, but it was still, at least, something.

The crowd of dancing people begins to thicken, and, slowly, Jongin lets himself be pushed out of the crowd, into the outskirts of it. It takes him a while to realise that it’s all over, now.The wedding was over, words were said, and the future - the future looked brighter to him than it ever did before. He was going to start fresh. He was going to go somewhere else, meet new people, clear his mind, start his new job. He laughs to himself as he thinks about the possibilities that lie ahead of him - among them, finding new love.

To his left, he spots Sehun, dancing shyly with Zitao. Jongdae has his head on Junmyeon’s shoulder, Baekhyun was busy sampling the desserts. These were the people he was about to leave behind. They were his friends - they’d carried him through more than they even realised, and now, Jongin thinks, now is a good time to learn to carry himself.

Through the mass of people separating them, Jongin manages to catch a glimpse of Kyungsoo. He’d stopped dancing by now, his hair sticking just the slightest to his forehead. Around his waist is Chanyeol’s arm, and Jongin doesn’t miss the way Kyungsoo’s body leans into the touch, he doesn’t miss the way the smile that’s on his face glows with the kind of light that makes Jongin want to smile, too.

Kyungsoo is still so beautiful in his eyes. A different kind of beautiful, the kind that’s meant to be admired from afar and not owned, and Jongin realises that now. He understands.

His breath almost catches when the elder looks him in the eye.

The smile fades from his lips, and it looks like he’s about to make his way towards Jongin, to say something, but Jongin isn’t entirely sure he wants to hear it.

The time has, finally, come.

He grimaces, tries to force his lips into a smile. The air is filled with music, with well wishes, high spirits, but it also rings with a kind of finality only two people can really feel.

Jongin raises his hand. He waves at Kyungsoo, tries for the most genuine smile he can manage.

From across the room, Kyungsoo does the same.

It lasts for a moment, but Jongin feels an eternity pass in the time it takes for a single grain of sand to fall into the bottom of the hourglass.

When it does, he drops his hand. His smile grows more subdued. He turns and leaves.

A new life, he keeps telling himself, new possibilities. All I have to do is take them.

It’s the last Kyungsoo ever sees of Jongin.

Author's note: Apologies for the funky formatting. I'm on a really old laptop rn and will fix + edit this when I have the time ;_;

This was rushed. Yep. Sorry haha pls go listen to the song it'll make it up to you for me I'm so sorry

:)

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