Chapter Text
"Mom?" Soobin stopped while passing through the living room. He looked straight at the TV, not tearing his eyes off.
"Isn't this that boy, Soobin? You know," Soobin heard her voice come from the couch, "the one who was here last year for winter break? Wasn't that boy's name also Yeonjun?"
It was a game show, and the boy on the screen holding the game card looked like Yeonjun, except he was all biceps in a tight shirt with a lean stomach and cole black hair just like the kid from Soobin’s primary school. And then Soobin heard the young man's voice and it definitely wasn’t the kid from his primary school anymore. Yeonjun talked a lot of slick nonsense and the ladies in the audience laughed, looking at him with ferocious hunger.
"For the next part, you have to guess the poem on the screen based on the few letters given," Yeonjun explained.
The old man cleared his voice, "I'm no good with words, son, I came here for the science questions," he replied with a worried expression.
Yeonjun placed his elbows on the stand in front of him, leaning closer to the player, "Hmm... not much of a poet are you?" He displayed pretend concern. "Think about your time as a teen, don't tell me there wasn't a single love poem you wrote to get with a pretty girl?"
The old man groaned, "None! I could sing a song but not write one." Someone from the audience booed, the others erupted in whispers.
"You think you can help me with this one, boy?" The man quickly continued after hearing the public's reaction. "You're a show host, you must be amazing with words."
Yeonjun offered a lopsided smile, and Soobin stopped breathing for a moment, waiting.
"Maybe I used to be, but I haven't written anything new in ages," he replied before clapping his hands together and moving forward with the game.
Soobin realised everything he would ever love would find its end one day.
"It's him, right?" Soobin's mother sounded excited.
"Yeah," he answered, distant, "it's him, mom."
It was later that night that Soobin found himself laughing under his breath. It was happening again, wasn't it? He couldn't see it as a cruel joke anymore, this was undoubtedly comedic even if he was the punchline. Here was Soobin once again alone in this reunion, confronted by the same person who had followed Soobin through life unknowingly for more than a decade. He might as well have been a phantom, and Soobin was being hunted.
Soobin couldn't lie to himself and masquerade ignorance like this didn't have an effect on him. During the last months, he learned to bake cream cheesecakes, vanilla cupcakes, and all kinds of flavoured yoghurt cakes, he helped the publishing house release their first set of children's books, and even managed to set aside a bit of money for a future car and driving lessons, watched a dozen of Kai’s concerts, and, most importantly, forgot about university. About its shadows. But that wasn't how ghosts or the cycles of his life worked, so after having a healthy, self-deprecating laugh and a deep sigh, he added long walks to the list of things that defined the new life of Choi Soobin. Yeonjun had always been that one part he could never control, and he decided he wouldn't, Soobin would walk it out. And just like the devil Yeonjun had always been, it was during the week that Soobin let himself remember the boy so passionately once again, visualising his visage during evening walks, thinking it would be the last time, the unexpected happened.
"Hey, sorry, do you have a free moment?" Beomgyu’s voice broke through the phone’s speaker.
Soobin waited until the rustling and the blowing of wind stopped on the other side of the call.
"What's up?" he asked.
The autumn sky was coloured deep red and Soobin counted the first five stars in it until he heard another sound from the boy.
"Listen, everything is fine, don't worry." Beomgyu sounded strange and Soobin reasonably started to worry. "Are you free tomorrow? Fuck, okay, so-" Beomgyu exhaled a shaky breath, "Can you go to the central hospital in the morning? I just got a call, and-", Soobin thought he heard Beomgyu sniffle, his heart turning cold. "Yeonjun he- he got into an accident, flew over his motorcycle, the hospital just called, said that they've brought him in a couple of hours ago, but I'm in fucking Italy, my parents' are away, too, Soobin." Beomgyu sounded like he was nearing a panic attack.
"Is he okay?"
"A broken arm, a concussion, burns, I don't know, you have to go check on him, Soobin, please," it wasn’t a plea anymore.
"What about his parents or -uh- boyfriend?"
"To hell with them!" Beomgyu shouted, "Why do you think my number's on his registry?"
“Text me the details, I promise I’ll go.”
“Thank you, Soobin,” Beomgyu was relieved, his voice giving up and tears taking over. “And tell him his an idiot, unless he looks too fucked up. Then-”
“Yeah.” Soobin cancelled the call.
He dropped his hands, his phone nearly slipping out of his palm, his thoughts were racing to the moon and back. It was late, but not too late for the last trains to come. Soobin could have listened to Beomgyu and gone in the morning, but he knew the night would have been sleepless either way- hospital waiting hall or his room. He checked his pockets for his wallet, knew that was all he needed, and ran to the train platform, heart pounding out of his chest.
Those were the most excruciating hours of Soobin’s life. The wildlife outside was still, the forests and the hills unmoving. They didn't know about the chaos happening inside of him. Soobin tried to count to ten, but the numbers couldn't hear him. He didn't know what to do with his hands, they didn't fit under his thighs, but whenever they met, Soobin started picking on them, pulling on each finger and the skin around his nails until they reddened or bled. Yeonjun would be fine, just like the view outside, his fragile self was unshakable, and he would be fine.
Soobin was scared to see his face, the unavoidable bruises and whatever would come once he recognised him standing in the doorway. Half the time on the train Soobin spent begging Yeonjun’s image in his mind not to hate him or turn him down; he would probably end up crying on the street, feeling like a fool. He wouldn’t survive that, even less the chances if Yeonjun’s boyfriend was there. It hurt- the excitement to see him as much as the anxiety reverberating in his bones.
When he got off the train, it was nearing midnight, the station dead empty and the streets dark. Soobin had to walk another thirty minutes to the hospital, trying not to regret his decision while explaining the situation to his mother. She was heaving, worried sick for the both of them and offered to call Soobin a taxi, not wanting him alone on the streets at night, but he declined. He wasn’t sure her concern was rooted, if she was aware of everything Soobin had never spoken about or if this perchance reminded her of something much more personal.
Soobin couldn't set his mind on whether this was going to be a mistake or not, but it had been an urgency, someone had to be there. He thought about contacting Kai to stay the night at his, yet Soobin's finger never filled the space left between it and the boy's name on his phone.
The street lights around glimmered- pharmacies, bars and casinos-, and Soobin passed a handful of drunks fallen ill on the pavement, not wanting to spare them a look. And then the nightlife settled, and the lights became lesser. Soobin, focusing on the sound of his rushing footsteps, turned a corner on the main street and knew he wasn't far off anymore.
The massive white building in front of him had most of its lights off except for the first floor, which was filled with shadowy figures running back and forth. By the emergency entrance, an ambulance opened its backside doors and a group of medical assistants carefully dragged out a woman lying on a wheeled stretcher. She was sobbing loudly, and Soobin tried his best not to understand the desperate words that came out of her mouth, his and the woman's eyes meeting for a frozen second. He gave way to the medics before entering the building right behind them.
"Sorry, my friend was brought here earlier," Soobin said quietly to the registry. "When can I see him?"
"If you're not a family member, then not until morning," the man replied dryly.
"What time?"
"If they become an inpatient, then usually from 8 a.m. till 8 p.m. If not, they might be able to leave earlier if you're here to pick them up. What's the patient's name?" The man, Jack, on the name tag, turned to a computer, ready to search for the details.
After a brief pause, Soobin wondered if he could have lied and said they were family, "Choi Yeonjun."
"Okay," Jack let his hands move across the keyboard, then "He's still in emergency care." He let out a deep exhale. "If you're not family, I can't give you more information. You should wait for his call or wait until 8 a.m. when and if he's moved to an inpatient facility."
"Can I wait here?"
Jack squinted his eyes, "not here. Go to the red building beside this one; this is only for the ambulance."
Soobin felt like a dog that's been kicked out with his head hanging low, passing the miserable folk in the waiting room. The other ward was deserted in contrast to the first, and for the next two hours, only four people passed Soobin by as he sat with knees pressed together.
Sometime during the night, Soobin let himself give into sleep, his nape resting against the wall behind him. It was chilly, and he shivered each time the motion detection doors slipped open, a nurse or a doctor eying him with questions. He wasn't wearing much, so he slipped his hands out of the sleeves of his hoodie and wrapped them around his stomach, mimicking a blanket. It was a terrible, shallow sleep of nightmares where he watched Yeonjun get into a multitude of road accidents again and again, that broke completely at six a.m. when Soobin received a message from Beomgyu stating that Yeonjun had been moved to an individual room.
He spent the last two hours getting breakfast. A tiny grocery store deeper in the city centre ran 24/7, so Soobin used the chance to escape his resurfaced anxiety, instead scanning the isles for anything grape-flavoured or dinosaur-shaped. He picked up a canned coffee for himself, then imagined the damage it would do to his already damaged nerves and put it down. He paid for a grape bunch, mineral water, two cinnamon buns and a pack of cookies in the shape of long-necked dinosaurs. Then, took a longer route back.
Soobin might have stood in the hallway behind the door of the room Yeonjun was sleeping in for twenty or more minutes, contemplating the worst scenarios. He held his breath when finally taking the first steps inside, eyes immediately wide at the sight of the older.
Yeonjun was lying on white sheets, a grass-green fleece blanket over his body. One of his arms had a cast on it, and the other was connected to an IV drip. He looked pale, sicklish and powerless, and Soobin had a hard time holding himself together.
The plastic grocery bag must have made noise because sooner or later Yeonjun opened his eyes and looked over at Soobin.
"Sorry, it's me," Soobin whispered.
"Beomgyu told me," Yeonjun murmured back.
"Are you alright?" Soobin walked closer, placing the food on a cabinet beside Yeonjun's bed. Suddenly he was ashamed to show what he had bought, so he left the bag unopened, placing his palm on top of it to hide the contents even further.
Yeonjun didn't answer; he looked away.
"I - I can leave if you want to," Soobin rushed. "I promised Beomgyu to check up on you."
"No, it's okay."
Soobin didn't know what to say next, they were both tired, unable to do much. He felt misplaced standing by the bed, trying to find the right words. Then Yeonjun subtly shifted his head, guiding Soobin’s point of view to a lonesome chair in the corner of the room and Soobin went to pull it closer to Yeonjun's bed, still keeping a safe distance.
"Do you remember what happened?" Soobin started once more, timid.
Yeonjun followed every Soobin's movement, stopping at his hands on his lap once he sat down, and self-consciously Soobin covered his bruised fingers away from Yeonjun's sight.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Soobin hesitated. "You can just go back to sleep."
Yeonjun didn’t react and Soobin remarked much harsher, intense bruising on Yeonjun’s own fingers, his knuckles red and blue.
"Promise not to tell anyone. Not before I've decided what to do about it."
Soobin bit the inside of his cheek and nodded.
"I have a suspicion my bike was tampered with, there were some unusual noises, and it just ran weird. I don't know," Yeonjun spoke without looking up at Soobin. "But I might be wrong."
Soobin sat up straight in the chair, anxiety peaking. "Why would anyone-"
"Soobin," Yeonjun laid out his hand on the bed, inviting Soobin to hold it. "I might be wrong," he assured, still whispering.
Soobin furrowed his forehead, feeling sick to his stomach but he controlled the urge to panic. "Why?" He spoke as quietly as possible while slowly and delicately settling his palm over Yeonjun's, gently holding it.
They stayed in silence for a while, both of them evidently lost in thought. Soobin was too focused, too aware of their skin touching and how afraid he was to accidentally hurt Yeonjun to let himself replace the sound of static inside of him with the true meaning of what Yeonjun had just implied.
"I left him a few weeks ago. For the first time, you know. I did it," he sounded weak. "I couldn't take it anymore."
"Do you think-?" Soobin clenched his other hand in a fist.
"No, not him," Yeonjun shook his head. "But there were issues with his other partner. I-" he stopped, "I don't want to talk about it."
Soobin was going to cry. He shut his eyes and carefully placed his head against the mattress of Yeonjun's bed, trying not to squish the older's hand under all the stress and frustration he felt.
"Are you proud that I left?" Yeonjun asked.
"Yes," Soobin forced out.
"I'm sorry I ran away from you that day. I've thought about it constantly since then, but I couldn't go out to see you. You deserved better."
"No," he sniffled.
"Soobin," Yeonjun manoeuvred his palm from underneath Soobin's and softly pushed it into his hair. "Do you think we could be friends?"
"What?" Soobin refused to show his face, hoping that if a tear escaped, it immediately got soaked into his shirt.
"Yeah, I mean until you're assured I'm... I don't know- better?"
"What?"
"Yeah, like friends with a promise?"
Soobin peeked at Yeonjun, baffled, his eyes stinging. "I thought you were supposed to be nearly dead not using this state as a -"
Yeonjun faintly laughed, then winched, then laughed again.
"You could have shown up to graduation." Soobin let his walls break, his voice sounding two times higher. Yeonjun was staring right at him, pale skin made almost translucent against his black hair, he didn’t seem to reflect the distress Soobin felt. "Or class."
"The whole thing's for seeing your friends or for your family to congratulate you. I didn't have anybody waiting for me there."
"Ah," Soobin snorted.
"Did you wait?" Yeonjun was still petting his head, twisting Soobin’s hair between his fingers without a care in the world.
Soobin shrugged
"I'm being mean to you, teasing like this," he all of a sudden stopped.
"You nearly died," Soobin stated as if Yeonjun didn’t know it himself.
"I stressed you out, and now I'm being mean to you."
Soobin raised his head, taking hold of Yeonjun's hand that was still waiting motionless above him and placing it on the bed. "You should rest. I'm doing you no good, I'm a mess."
Yeonjun thought about it, "Alright." He pulled the green fleece further over himself, settling more comfortably on the bed. "But will... will you wait a bit more?"
"Yeah, it's fine, I'll wait until they kick me out."
"They said I could leave today if I wanted to, so we could leave together, but that's not what I meant. I was asking if you'd wait for me, you know, to see if I'm any good."
Soobin rubbed at his face, "You are mean."
Yeonjun laughed again, but gingerly added, "Only if you want to."
This time Soobin couldn't control it and really started to cry, shoulders rounding, face dropping dramatically back into the mattress. His whole body shook as he silently wept.
"I understand if you hate me,"
Soobin violently shook his head, not raising it from the bed, "I've missed you so bad." He was full-on sobbing, reaching once more for Yeonjun's hand, but instead, Yeonjun tilted Soobin's chin, signalling him to sit up straight. “You don’t need to say all that, I don’t want a waiting period.”
"Why would you trust me?" Yeonjun sounded apologetic, and Soobin noticed unshed emotion in his eyes, too. "I'm that guy who got into a road crash because of his unhealthy love habits."
"Kai had this whole era of giving me speeches and one was about how I should take chances and -"
"So it's not about me?"
"It is. It's - I - 'm not - I wouldn't say I'm madly in love with you," Soobin felt the muscles in his face tense, his ears burning. Yeonjun stared at him, eyebrows raised. "But if you were to, like, you know, tell me that you were-"
"Madly in love with you?" Yeonjun interrupted, severely confused.
"Well, yeah,-" Soobin didn't know what the fuck he was doing, his face wet from the tears. "If you were to tell me that, I - I wouldn't be upset."
Yeonjun opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before, "Wouldn't be upset?" He asked once more, his left eyebrow now nearly reaching the sky.
"I mean," Soobin hadn't taken a breath in three minutes minimum, "I might even get, like, really happy, actually."
Yeonjun was biting his lip to hold down his laughter. "So what are you trying to say?" he bloomed into a wide grin, bottom lip bruised purple.
"I'm saying that love might not be something I fall into and it’s not something I can just decide to feel when I know this will work out. It's something you- I could grow into while experiencing life. And I'd like to take that chance with you." Because somewhere along the line it became clear to Soobin that being truly in control of life doesn't equal curating it into a perfect shape without the possibility of pain or danger, it means knowing that he would be able to deal with whatever came his way and facing the very things that scared him for the sake of love.
"It's the stress, isn't it? You're talking through pure stress." Yeonjun watched him, his mouth left ajar in surprise.
"A little bit," Soobin finally laughed to himself. "Yeah, I think so. I can't believe I have the opposite problem now," he groaned, not sure what he felt anymore. But he was happy, weirdly and so unexpectedly glad that he’d said it.
"How about you help me get to my apartment, I take at least three ibuprofen, we wrap ourselves up in my bed, and we go on from there. Would you be okay with that?" Yeonjun looked beautiful in the early morning sun, even with the circles under his eyes and the cast on his arm and the magnificent uncertainty of it all- them together for better or worse.
"Yeah," Soobin vaguely nodded, "I would love that. Except for the three ibuprofen."