Chapter Text
Pitter-patter.
The sound of rain taps gently against the umbrella, the smell of wet earth tickles his nose as he shifts his stance.
The faint mellow yellow light from the flower shop inside emits a soft glow from behind him but Jungwon finds that he cannot look up from his feet where his beat-up Converse are stark against the graveled road.
“Jungwon! Come inside, you’re going to catch a cold.” The sound of Sunoo’s voice chimes in his ears.
Slowly he lifts his gaze, the road is dark save for a couple streetlights and the rain continues to pour ever so gently. The smell of rain-soaked air is strong, a damp breeze kissing his skin, Jungwon inhales deeply, a sharp pain searing through his lungs as he holds his breath in just a little too long.
He doesn’t want to exhale. He can’t. Because he knows— he knows —the moment he does, it’ll hit him again. The gnawing feeling in his chest, the suffocating vice around his lungs, the ache in the creature that beats despondently in the confinements of his rib cages.
“Jungwon?”
Sunoo’s tone is cheery as he peeks his head from inside the florist’s shop, but when he catches the look on Jungwon’s face, his expression falters subtly. Jungwon catches it, of course, he always does. It’s the only look his friend seems to give him these days and there’s only one emotion Jungwon can file it under: pity.
“Oh, Jungwonie,” He hears the older one sigh as he comes under Jungwon’s umbrella, throwing an arm over the younger boy’s shoulder.
“He’ll be back.” Sunoo’s voice is but a whisper from where Jungwon’s slumped against the older boy’s shoulder.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Jungwon falters, like that single sentence cracked something fragile inside him, letting spill the emotions he’s been suppressing for a while now.
But for some reason, the words do more hurt than good. It feels like it has just added to the neverending crack that Jungwon has been feeling in his chest for the past few weeks.
“I know.” Jungwon’s voice breaks as he pulls back, blinking away rapidly but the crack in his voice gives him away.
It’s been almost two months since Jay left for London.
It’s crazy to think how fast time passed. Looking back at it, summer felt like a fever dream: ripe figs, lemon-scented air, the ocean’s salty breeze, and a boy with soft eyes and hands made for plucking guitar strings. What was once tangled with Jungwon’s happiest emotions now lingers as nothing more than fleeting, untouchable moments, slipping through the cracks of his memory.
It is now October and summer has given way to a rainy autumn. It’s been pouring more often than not, Jungwon doesn’t remember the last time he fully saw the sun out without the obstruction of clouds and Mother Nature’s tears. It feels fitting, like the universe is syncing itself with him. Because just like the weather, Jungwon has been gray, heavy, and endlessly pouring inside.
“I just miss him,” Jungwon whispers.
He exhales, but even that feels like a bruise being pressed. He’s been a wreck since Jay left, there’s really no point in pretending otherwise. And though he’d thrown on a grin, squared his shoulders, and told Jay he didn’t care, they both knew damn well it was a lie. A stupid, see-through lie.
He’d bawl like a baby the moment Jay stepped on that train for London. He remembers it clearly, the way Jay refused to look back but Jungwon had already seen the veil of mist coating his eyes when he kissed him goodbye. He also remembers embarrassingly calling his mother to pick him up and crying the entire way home, feeling how each mile between him and Jay was more distance than he could afford.
Sunoo smiles sadly, “I know you do, Wonnie. We all do.”
“It’s just weird, you know, not seeing him around I mean,” Jungwon murmured, awkwardly adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, doing anything to distract himself from the lump beginning to form in his throat.
He tries not to talk about it—Jay’s absence, choosing to bask in silence rather than pouring his heart out to his friends about it because what was that going to do? It’d do nothing but make him sound like a hopeless fool in love who can’t handle a bit of distance, and plus either way, no amount of brooding would bring Jay back.
Jay’s in London now, heck he’s at Oxford now, his dream ever since Jungwon could remember. He still remembers the day Jay, just twelve with round glasses and a sharp, daring mouth, declared he’d escape this small town one day—make it to Oxford and become rich. When Jungwon, half-amused, asked what he’d do with all that money, Jay had looked at him like he was crazy.
“ I’ll be rich ,” he said simply, “ but not with money. I’ll be rich with knowledge .”
That moment, something akin to admiration bloomed in Jungwon’s chest, a feeling he couldn’t quite place then but would never forget. Maybe he had been in love with Jay longer than he could even remember.
He smiles fondly at the memory, carefully tucking it back into one of the boxes in his mind, filed as “ core memories of Jay. ” He wishes he could go back and tell young Jay that he made it. You made it to London, Jay-ah. But he can’t say that out loud, because Jay’s well, not here anymore.
“I get what you mean. Coming to his job and not seeing him here still throws me off sometimes.” Sunoo sighs, gazing sadly into the shop behind them.
Jungwon follows his line of vision. Ah right, the flower shop. Jay used to work here part-time during the summer, earning just enough to buy him and Jungwon ice cream and snacks on those blistering, sun-soaked days.
Jungwon remembers the days he’d breeze into the shop, the sweet scent of blooms hanging in the air, and Jay’s gentle hands crafting bouquets at the counter while he tells Jungwon of the meaning of each flower. Though Jungwon must admit, he doesn’t remember half of what the flowers meant because he was too busy staring at Jay the entire time. He'd shamelessly rest his head in his palm, gaze fixed on Jay, letting the world around him blur into the background.
And when Jay’d catch him staring he’d say, “ My love, you’re staring .”
Rather than denying it, Jungwon would grin that stupid grin that shows how lovesick a person can truly be to the point it’s hard to fathom, “ Yes, I am staring at you. Matter of fact, I’m thinking about you too! ” he’d reply, his words as lighthearted as the feeling blooming in his chest.
All the teasing was worth it whenever he saw Jay’s cheek flush that rare tinge of pink.
But right now, as he stares into the shop, Jungwon sees the new worker who had been volunteering at the time Jay worked there as the main employee. He sees the familiar vases lined up on the shelves, their contents a riot of vibrant hues—and yet, it all feels so hollow. The colors, once full of life and meaning, now look painfully out of place in his eyes. Nothing felt the same after Jay left. As if Jay had taken all the color with him.
Everything he did felt hollow, every step he took felt like he was forgetting something. And every night, as he lay in bed, he had to force himself to shake the aching anticipation—waiting for Jay to walk through the door and slip into bed beside him. Jay was no longer here. And Jungwon would somehow have to learn how to cope with that.
“Did you call him today?” Sunoo asks as they begin their trek back home, they’d stop by the shop today because Sunoo had to place an order for an arrangement for his mother’s birthday next month since the flowers she loves are not ones that can be found easily in this part of Italy.
“He told me he was really busy today and that he’d tried to fit in a call if he had time,” Jungwon says through a forced smile, kicking at stray rocks in his path.
It’s already midnight here, and with only a couple hour time difference, Jungwon knows it’d be selfish to call this late. Jay’s been frustrated all week over a project, venting about teammates who weren’t pulling their weight and a concept that was difficult to begin with. He sounded exhausted, worn thin at the edges. The last thing Jungwon wants is to add to that.
The only response he gets from Sunoo is a soft ‘hm’ before they fall into comfortable silence, only the patters of rain sounds in the night.
Jungwon will admit, he didn’t think long distance would be this hard. He had convinced himself they could handle it, that their bond was strong enough to stretch across cities and time zones. But some days, it feels like even love has its limits and Jungwon was nearly at a breaking point. In the beginning, they were texting constantly, pictures from every meal they’d eat to facetiming almost three times in a day, and for a sliver of a moment, Jungwon had hoped that everything would be fine—but that was before Jay started his semester.
Once school resumed, calls became harder to schedule, Jungwon was buried in entrance exam prep, and Jay had just started his first semester in a brand new city. Meals were skipped more often than not, the weight of student life pressing down on them both. FaceTime became near damn impossible. Still, Jungwon persevered, convincing himself that catching glimpses of Jay in the occasional photo or rare video call was enough—for now.
Though these days, the videos have become more and more rare, and Jungwon has a sneaky feeling that if he lets this continue on, it would only create a gap he could not afford to have.
“Have a good night, Won. Try to sleep.” Sunoo offers with a sympathetic smile, rubbing the boy’s shoulder softly.
“Can't guarantee I will but good night.” Jungwon smiles grimly as he bids farewell.
When Sunoo leaves, Jungwon pushes the rusted front gates open. The courtyard is an open field, the moon bathes its light across the expansion of grass, the peach tree casting shadows as he walks to the front door.
The peach tree. Jungwon swallows thickly as he passes by it, not wanting to spare it a glance but that doesn’t stop the memory that trickles in. Memories of Jay playing his guitar idly under the shade of the tree beneath the scorching July sun.
He sees Jay everywhere. From the courtyard to the small dining table outside where he used to sneak olives into Jay’s plate because he didn’t like to eat them.
Inhaling a shaky breath, Jungwon pushes the front door open. His parents are probably asleep by now. Slowly he descends up the stairs leading to his room, a small crack sounds in the floorboard, each step feeling heavier than the one before.
The brown wood greets him when he reaches his door, Jungwon tries to ignore the familiar burn in his eyes when he glances over at the door beside his— Jay’s room.
Jungwon doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so emotional, he was fine, really, during that first month. But as the weeks dragged on, the certainty he clung to began to flicker. And then, like a wave crashing over a dying flame, hopelessness settled in. The thought, or rather the fact that Jay isn’t coming back. Not yet. Not for a while.
A cold breeze hits him the moment he walks in, his room is cold from him having left the window open before he left earlier with Sunoo. With no energy left, Jungwon plops lazily down onto the bed tummy first. He throws his face against his pillow, hoping the fluffiness of the material will drown out the emptiness clawing in his stomach. The last meal he ate was breakfast and that was just a single slice of toast and an egg.
If Jay were here, he’d probably scold Jungwon’s ears off, and honestly, maybe he deserves it. He’s going absolutely insane. He wants to call him. He knows it’s selfish, but is it really a crime to want to hear your long-distance boyfriend’s voice?
On impulse, he grabs his phone, thumb hovering over the familiar contact: Jay 🤍 .
But then he pauses.
Doubt creeps in, quiet but sharp.
What if Jay’s asleep? What if he’s busy? What if I’m just being too much?
His finger hovers, frozen in hesitation.
After two seconds, Jungwon makes his choice—he shouldn’t.
He blinks away the hot sting in his eyes, tears he hadn’t even realized were forming. His lips quiver, but he nods to himself anyway, a silent attempt at conviction.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Jolting in sheer surprise, he blinks owlishly at his phone screen. It lights up, emitting a white glow in the dark. Once he catches a glimpse of the caller ID, Jungwon swears his heart almost dropped.
Jay🤍 would like to FaceTime…slide to answer
It’s almost embarrassing how fast he picks up the call, immediately Jay’s face floods the screen.
“Jungwon?” Jay’s voice comes out scratchy from the way he’s adjusting his camera. “Can you see me?”
Can he see him? Jungwon thinks he could cry.
Those familiar brown eyes. That black hair, a little messier than usual. The faint dusting of freckles across his nose. It’s all there—impossibly, beautifully there.
“Jay.” His voice is but a whisper but Jay catches it.
At the tone of his voice, he sees the way Jay immediately pulls the phone closer, “Love, what’s wrong?”
Sometimes Jungwon hates how easily Jay can pick up on his emotions just from a single word. His boyfriend’s eyebrows are furrowed, blinking rapidly as if he could assess Jungwon just from behind the screen alone. Now that causes a small smile to break on Jungwon’s lips—he can’t help it, really.
“Nothing,” Jungwon says easily, the words slipping out with a soft breath.
And just like that, it feels as if every weight that’s been pressing on his chest—not just this week, but for the past two months—has finally lifted.
Then in a softer hush, he whispers, “Just… miss you. A lot.”
He hears Jay let out a relieved exhale, “I miss you more, love.”
The words wrap around Jungwon like a blanket, soft and familiar. His throat tightens.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Jungwon murmurs, eyes tracing the outline of Jay’s face on the screen. “You sounded so tired this week.”
Jay gives a small, crooked smile, the kind that always made Jungwon feel like everything was going to be okay. “You could never bother me. Not you.”
“Even if I start calling you a thousand times a day?” Jungwon scoffs, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
Jay grins, eyes crinkling. “Then I’ll pick up a thousand times a day.”
Jungwon ignores the way his heart skips a beat, “You’re ridiculous.” He rolls his eyes.
“Can you blame me? You know I’m a fool for you.” Jay lets out a breathless laugh, his eyes soft through the screen.
Jungwon’s smile falters—not because he’s upset, but because his heart feels too full. Too much.
“You say that like I’m not just as bad,” he whispers, voice barely holding steady. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Jay’s expression gentles, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something Jungwon can’t quite place. “I think I do,” he murmurs. “Because you do the same to me.”
Jungwon goes quiet for a moment, blinking back the burn in his eyes again—but this time, it’s different. This time, it’s soft. It’s love.
“How’s your day been? Tell me.” Jay after a beat of silence, like he knows Jungwon’s processing the depth of his words.
“It’s been,” Jungwon pauses, “well, boring.”
Jay raises an eyebrow in quiet amusement, “hmm, and why is that?”
Jungwon sighs, shifting his gaze away from the screen. “I don’t know… I guess being here is just— boring . Everything’s the same. The streets, the people, the routine. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop. School keeps getting repetitive, and I keep waking up to the same sky, walking past the same buildings, pretending it doesn’t get to me.”
He swallows hard, then adds, softer, “I think I’m just… tired of it all. I miss change. I miss you.”
Jay inhales sharply at that and Jungwon knows why. Jay knows how much Jungwon hates change, like when he had come to learn of the fact that Jay was leaving. Change, it was never something Jungwon could welcome with open arms, the unfamiliarity in it all, the false sense of security, it was never something he could fully let in.
There was a time when he loved this—the comfort of a small town, the quiet familiarity of knowing every face, never having to worry about the noise of bustling cities or strangers with clipped accents and hurried lives. It used to feel safe. Warm.
But now, as he’s grown older, something’s shifted.
The kids he grew up with are gone, moving away, chasing futures in far-off cities and unfamiliar countries. Jay being the clearest, sharpest example. And Jungwon can’t help the shaky, selfish ache that blooms in his chest.
He wants to leave, too.
He wants more than quiet streets and predictable days. He wants movement. Change. Something that feels like possibility. But just the thought in itself scares him shitless.
“And where did this come from, this sudden want of change?” Jay prods gently but Jungwon can hear the subtle caution in his tone.
“Hmm, well, I guess from seeing everyone leaving. You in London, and Sunoo leaving for Paris next year once we graduate.” Jungwon mutters, staring up at his ceiling, he picks out a faint glow from the star stickers he and Jay had stuck up there when they were younger.
“Sunoo’s leaving?” Jay asks curiously, it seems like it’s the first time he’s hearing this.
Jungwon hums in response, “yeah, he’s studying fashion there.”
“That’s cool. Knowing Sunoo, Paris is made for him.” Jay chuckles.
“Yeah.” Jungwon forces out a laugh, “It is.”
I wonder what’s made for me . He lingers on the thought but doesn’t let it slip past his lips.
“What are you thinking?” Jay’s voice snaps him from his reverie.
Jungwon blinks back slowly, the look on Jay’s face melts from assessing to something more like curiosity. “Where should I go after I graduate?”
Jay goes silent for a second before he says, “Where do you want to go?”
Letting out a soft sigh, Jungwon rubs at his eyes, trying to blink the fatigue away. Sleep tugs at his limbs, but he forces it back. This was the only time, in who knows how long, that he’d get to see Jay like this again. He wasn’t about to waste a second of it.
“I’m not sure,” Jungwon murmurs, eyes flickering downward. “I’ve been considering a couple places, but… well, I don’t want it to seem like I’m just copying you or anything.” He pauses, then adds, voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “But Oxford has an amazing English and Literature program and…”
He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air— and you’re there. And maybe that’s why I want to be, too.
But instead of the judgment he half-expected, Jay’s face softens, like something in him settles, almost like relief.
Of course, of course he’d understand. Jungwon’s stupid for even thinking Jay would see it as copying. That’s never been who Jay is. He’s never made Jungwon feel small for wanting more —especially not if that more meant being closer to him.
“That’s great Jungwon-ah,” Jay’s smile fills the screen until it’s all Jungwon can see, can feel .
It’s crazy how even with a thousand-something miles and a phone screen separating them, Jungwon can still feel the genuine excitement in Jay’s voice. Like he’s genuinely happy for Jungwon, something that never fails to shock Jungwon. Jay, sweet , sweet , Jay .
“You think so?” Jungwon asks quietly, just because he's such a sucker for validation.
“Yes. I think it's amazing, you’re a great writer. Oxford doesn’t know what they have coming their way.” Jay says so matter-of-factly that Jungwon almost begins to believe him.
“And plus, when you do come, we can share my flat. I’m getting sick of Heeseung and his cup ramyeons.” Jay chuckles.
Oh right.
Jungwon had almost forgotten about that little detail: Heeseung . A dear friend of Jay’s from secondary school, and, well… Jungwon’s very own one-sided rival. Not that Heeseung knew, of course.
See, Jungwon never really saw himself as the jealous type ( then again, that’s also what Jay liked to claim about himself) . But there was just something about Heeseung—about his effortless closeness with Jay, the way he slid so easily into spaces Jungwon used to occupy.
And, well… there was also the fact that Heeseung was the older “brother” figure Jay never had. The dependable one. The one Jay could always lean on. If the sheer number of times Jay had quoted Heeseung’s “ London this, London that ” before he left didn’t make that obvious, then Jungwon didn’t know what did.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Heeseung. He just didn’t like how easy it was for Jay to smile when talking about him.
Okay, well, maybe Jungwon is a little bit jealous—just a little bit though!
“That sounds nice.” Jungwon admits, but truthfully the idea in itself seemed like a concept he couldn’t grasp. The idea that one day he and Jay could live together again without the factor of a whole ocean separating them seemed almost near impossible.
Jungwon doesn’t have much faith in getting into Oxford. Academically? He was alright. Extracurriculars? Decent at best. But he wasn’t some prodigy who discovered the cure for cancer or won a Nobel Prize at sixteen.
He was just… him. And sometimes, that didn’t feel like enough to get into such a pristine school.
“Don’t doubt yourself Jungwon ah, I know you can do it.” Jay smiles and something in Jungwon relaxes.
“You have much more faith in me than I do.” Jungwon murmurs.
Jay chuckles quietly, “That’s okay. I’ll keep holding it for you until you find it yourself.”
There’s a beat of silence. Neither of them wants to hang up, but the drowsiness in Jungwon’s voice and the hour on the clock are hard to ignore.
“I should let you sleep,” Jay’s voice is a whisper lulling Jungwon to sleep.
“Hmm, no.” Jungwon groans in weak protest,
“Love, you’re falling asleep.” Jay’s laugh is soft from where his phone is standing against his pillow.
“No…can handle it,” Jungwon slurs his words, feeling delirious over the need of sleep taking over him,
Sleep is a buzzing bee in his ears, stinging every one of his senses until he’s exhausted, not able to move a single limb.
So he doesn’t hear it when Jay whispers a gentle “ I love you, ” but somewhere in his dreams, the confession is tucked into one of the pockets of his many half-formed memories: safe, quiet, and waiting for him when he wakes.
❖
Jungwon
Hey, can you call today?
Jay
Hi love,
I’m sorry, not today, I’m a bit busy.
Jungwon
Hi, what about today?
Jay
Still a bit busy, how about tomorrow?
Jungwon
Okay!
Jay
Hey love, I’m sorry but I think I won’t be able to call. Heeseung needs help with his thesis.
Jungwon
It’s okay :)
Jungwon
Make sure to eat today!
Jay
You too.
Jungwon
Look! It’s the cat that we always feed, I finally saw him again today at the town square.
[sent an attachment]
Jay
Liked the message.
❖
“Keep holding that phone any harder and I swear it’ll explode.”
Jungwon looks up to see Sunoo raising his eyebrows at him in question.
“What do you want?” Jungwon snaps but instantly regrets it when Sunoo narrows his eyes at him. “Sorry…I’m just a little stressed right now.”
“Stressed over school or frustrated over Jay?” Sunoo nudges as he plops down onto the grass beside Jungwon.
They’re at the lake again, the same lake they’d swim in during the summer where it seemed like the sun would never set and the water held memories of a life that seemed so distant.
“Both?” Jungwon sighs, throwing his phone aside and rubbing his hands over his face.
“I thought you guys were fine though?” Perplexity colors Sunoo’s voice which is honestly understandable, Jungwon wasn’t exactly the type to speak of his relationship details to others.
He and Jay were fine, at least, that’s what Jungwon kept telling himself. The only real problem was that school was actually draining the life out of both of them. Still, it didn’t change the fact that their last real conversation dated back to nearly two weeks ago.
Jungwon thinks he’s going insane. Every time he tries to call, it ends the same way—with Jay’s damn voicemail.
“ Hey, it’s Jay. I’m not available, please leave a message. ”
That line plays in his head like a broken record now. He swears he could recite it in his sleep, right down to the fake chill tone Jay always used. “ Hey, it’s Jay! ” Jungwon mocks under his breath with a roll of his eyes, pitching his voice just slightly deeper to match. “ Not available ,” he scoffs bitterly, “yeah, no kidding.”
He wants to throw his phone into the lake. Or scream. Or both.
Sunoo is silent from beside him, watching him mutter stuff under his breath like a lunatic.
“Jungwon-ah, I know you don’t like talking about your relationship but you really ought to. Maybe a conversation can help you sort through your feelings.” His friend suggests.
The younger one looks up to meet his eyes, “What can talking even do? It won’t do anything to change this situation.” He huffs quietly.
“It won’t. Nothing will change the fact that you’re here in Italy and Jay’s in London,” Sunoo replies softly. “But maybe it’ll help you feel less tangled. You can’t let your emotions bottle up again.”
Jungwon’s eyes flicker to Sunoo, registering the caution in his voice. He knows why, because he rarely opens up to anyone, let alone about something this baring. The only person he’s ever let himself be vulnerable with is Jay, and even now, after everything, it feels impossible to trust anyone else with this weight.
Jay had always been the one he could turn to, his best friend since they were kids. He was the one who knew Jungwon’s deepest thoughts, the one who held his heart without judgment, and now… now he’s thousands of miles away.
Inhaling deeply, Jungwon finally mutters
“I…I just feel so frustrated.”
He takes Sunoo’s silence as a sign to continue, “I feel like I’m falling behind.”
That makes Sunoo rustle a bit, “And why do you feel like you’re falling behind?”
Sighing deeply, Jungwon feels embarrassed about what’s about to come out of his mouth, “Sometimes it feels like Jay’s already moved on to a whole new chapter. I mean like college, new friends, new best friends, new experiences while I’m here , stuck in this place like a ghost trapped in a memory while everyone’s moved on. I keep calling and texting him like a desperate moron.”
“But it’s because I feel…I just feel like Jay is my only rope holding together a bridge that’s already falling apart. Everyone’s moved on, and all I have left are fragments of who he used to be—before he left. All I have are fragments of people I used to know. And one day, when you leave for Paris, I’m scared you’ll become just another memory too, Sunoo.”
“I’m scared of change… but at the same time, I want it so badly for myself. Is that selfish? Does that make me a contradiction?” He asks quietly, shivering slightly he brings his knees closer to his chest as a mist of water drifts over from the lake.
Sunoo doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at him— really looks at him —with that gentle concern Jungwon has always both appreciated and hated.
Then slowly, he says, “Jungwon-ah, I get it. Change is scary, I won’t pretend it’s not. But you have to believe that just because there’s distance between us, it doesn’t mean we’ll leave you. Change is inevitable, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be alone through it.”
“Just because I’m leaving for Paris doesn’t mean I’m going to forget you , because you, my sweet Jungwon, will not become a memory.” Sunoo’s voice is soft, yet it grounded Jungwon in a way he hasn’t felt in a long while.
“And if that’s what you’re worried about with Jay,” Sunoo continues, “don’t be. You won’t become a memory to him either. He loves you, Jungwon. I see it in the way he looks at you, even through a damn phone screen.”
Jungwon barely has it in him to laugh yet he does so anyway, but that doesn’t escape the watchful eyes of Kim Sunoo.
“Okay now you’re just forcing your laughs, spill .” His friend forces him to turn over, curiosity and worry evident in his eyes.
Picking at stray grasses, Jungwon groans, “It’s stupid.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Sunoo waves away with a hand.
“It’s just…” he groans internally at the thought of telling Sunoo this. The thing that’s been eating him up inside out this whole day, “Jay hasn’t called in a while and I was looking on socials this morning and noticed he posted with Heeseung..” He pauses, studying Sunoo’s face, but there’s no hint of suspicion or recognition of where Jungwon’s trying to go with this.
“They’re basically on this week's trip to Edinburgh.” He finally huffs out.
Sunoo’s eyebrows scrunch up even more, “…that’s it?”
Squeezing his fist tight, Jungwon finally bursts. “No! It’s just, his entire feed is flooded with heeseung , pictures of them eating, of them at famous landmarks. For god’s sake the other week he literally posted a picture of them at the Eiffel Tower, in Paris . And you know what Paris is known for? The city of love , Sunoo! At this rate, I bet all his followers think they’re dating.”
“Woah,” Sunoo blinks, physically taken back by Jungwon’s sudden outburst, “wait…is this where this is also stemming from? You’re jealous of Jay and Heeseung?”
“It’s stupid, I know.” Jungwon bites the insides of his cheeks angrily, feeling the familiar taste of metal in his mouth.
See, Jungwon might’ve believed the whole ‘they’re just friends’ thing—if it weren’t for the look on Heeseung’s face in every photo Jay posted. He knows that look—because it’s the same one he wears every time he looks at Jay. And Heeseung, anyone with vision could clearly tell that the look of ‘I really like you but I won’t say anything so I’ll just keep looking at your face until you realize ’ was written all over his face. (Or maybe he’s delusional and overthinking it.)
“I don't even know what’s wrong with me anymore. You don’t understand how much I hate feeling this way, Sunoo. I feel like I’m holding him back so much right now, my clinginess, my constant need for reassurance. I feel like I’m holding on too hard.”
It takes a moment for Sunoo to respond but when he does, his voice is soft “Jungwon… can I ask something? And don’t get mad.”
Jungwon glances at him, wary.
“Do you think you’re holding onto this because you really love him… or because the idea of letting go scares you more than anything else?” Sunoo’s voice is careful, the look in his eyes cautious like he’s tiptoeing around a volcano on the verge of eruption.
“What do you mean by letting go?” Jungwon’s voice comes out tighter than he expects, the question alone enough to make his pulse thunder in his ears.
“I mean, Jay’s going to change, Jungwon-ah. He’s not the same boy you picked peaches with when you were five or shared secrets with when you were ten. People grow and they have to. Letting go doesn’t mean giving up on him. It just means making peace with the fact that he’s evolving, he’s meeting new people. That doesn’t make him someone new, it just means he’s becoming more of who he’s meant to be.”
Jungwon lets out a hollow laugh. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How people can change so much and still be the same. How those two things can exist at once—it’s so damn contradicting.”
Sunoo lets out a similar mirthless laugh. “I know, trust me.”
Jay’s changing and Jungwon is still trying to find a way to cope with that. Not being able to be by his side, not being able to be the one who makes him laugh every day, not being part of the moments that are shaping who Jay is becoming.
“Call him tonight, Jungwon.” Sunoo says after a beat of silence.
The grass in his hand pokes angrily into his palm but Jungwon finds that he doesn’t seem to care.
“I will.”
It’s nearly midnight when Jay picks up on the second ring.
Jungwon inhales sharply as his boyfriend’s face comes onto the screen. He looks so devastatingly handsome in his white button up Polo that’s cuffed, showing off the watch Jungwon had gotten for him on his sixteenth birthday after saving up for a whole month, something in the fact that Jay’s still wearing it pools a warm feeling in Jungwon’s stomach.
“My love, it’s been a while.” He hears Jay say.
Something in him calms at the sound of the older man’s voice—something that only Jay could soothe.
“It has.” Jungwon responds, a slow smile creeps onto his lips.
“Oh? Is that Jungwonie?” A voice chimes from behind Jay.
In an instant, the warmth drains from Jungwon’s chest, his smile faltering, replaced by something sharp and cold, curling in his gut.
Heeseung steps into view, crowding the screen with that same careless ease, draping an arm around Jay’s shoulders like he belonged there.
“Yeah,” Jay replies, smiling.
And if Jungwon weren’t so clouded by that bitter twist of jealousy, he might’ve noticed—Jay wasn’t smiling at Heeseung.
He was smiling at him.
“It’s really nice to meet you, well, though I don’t know if calling counts,” Heeseung chuckles and Jungwon hates the way Jay ends up laughing too.
Jungwon swallows down the lump rising in his throat, forcing a breath through his nose as he sits up straighter. His screen shakes slightly, betraying the tremble in his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too shitty right now but from the way Jay’s narrowing his eyes slightly at him in confusion says otherwise.
Heeseung walks back to Jay’s bed, not until after saying a couple more things Jungwon doesn’t have the energy to try to respond without sounding like a snappy little bitch.
“How long’s he been there?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but the strain in his voice gives him away.
Jay blinks, momentarily thrown off.
“Uh…Heeseung? I was writing my thesis and needed his help going over it-”
“Right.” Jungwon cuts him off sharper than intended.
The abruptness throws Jay off, he shifts slightly “You okay?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I called a little bit late, I just didn’t think we’d have company,” Jungwon forces out a laugh, running his hands through his hair, an obvious sign that he’s getting uncomfortable with the situation and Jay knows.
Jay opens his mouth, then closes it again. Heeseung’s still in the background, scrolling on his phone, oblivious or pretending to be.
“No love, it’s not late. I can ask him to leave.” Jay offers softly.
But that makes it worse.
“Don’t,” Jungwon says quickly, jaw tight. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your fun.”
“Jungwon—”
“No, seriously,” he interrupts again, now fully caught in the spiral. “I get it. You’re building a whole new life there. New friends, new routines, and I’m just…a voice behind a screen.”
“That’s not fair,” Jay says, brows knitting together. “You know that’s not true.”
“Do I?” Jungwon mutters, almost to himself.
“Ohkay… I think it’s time for me to go, Jongseong-ah. Your paper was great though.” Heeseung takes his cue to leave at the sound of Jungwon’s voice. He pushes off the bed, clapping Jay’s shoulder twice before walking out of the room.
The sound of the door shutting echoes even through the call but it does nothing to ease the hollowness spreading in Jungwon’s chest.
“Jongseong?” he repeats, voice quieter now, but laced with something sharp—mocking, almost.
Jay blinks. “What?”
“He called you Jongseong.” Jungwon looks away from the screen. “Didn’t realize you two were on real-name terms now.”
Jay’s brows furrow in confusion. “What does that even mean?”
Jungwon shrugs, but it’s all too stiff. “Nothing. Maybe I underestimated how close you two are.”
“Jungwon. What does that mean ?” Jay presses sternly but from the look that morphs into his face, Jungwon knows he knows exactly what he’s talking about. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”
“Oh, I don’t know Jay, maybe it’s the fact that my boyfriend never calls me but has all the time in the world to flood posts on socials about going to Paris with his new best friend, or the fact that I can’t even call you without him being there even though you know that we rarely even get time to talk with each other.” Jungwon spits out.
He hears Jay inhale sharply, “Heeseung is my friend Jungwon, not my boyfriend.”
Jungwon scoffs, “Sometimes I can’t even tell the difference.”
He looks up—expecting annoyance, maybe confusion—but what he sees instead guts him.
Jay’s face. It’s not angry. It’s not even sad. It’s devastated.
The look on Jay’s face is something he cannot describe, but can feel , not in the way that something explodes but in the silently loudest way one can break. He can feel it in the way his heart folds together from the way Jay’s features don’t twist, but instead crumbles like something inside him just gave out.
That’s when a startling realization seeps in. Oh fuck . He just broke the one promise he swore he’d keep. The promise he made after he’d completely shattered Jay’s heart that night under the moonlight.
Regret is bile in his stomach, and remorse is what lodges itself in his throat.
I hurt Jay. I hurt Jay. I hurt Jay .
The words repeat like a mantra in his head, guilt and panic set his skin on fire as he tries to stop his fingers from trembling so much.
“Jungwon,” Jay’s voice fractures on the second syllable and something splinters so deeply inside Jungwon he finds that he can barely breathe above his rapid breathing.
He needs to fix this. He needs to fix this . He can’t run away. But how do you stop running away when that’s all you’ve ever known? For Jungwon, running away was always the solution, getting the farthest away from complicated emotions was always his go-to, but how can he run away from the one thing he so desperately wants to keep?
“Maybe this is what Sunoo meant when he asked if I was holding on because I love you or because I’m scared to let go.” Jungwon says despite his voice cracking, fighting off the burn in his eyes.
And just like that, the air is leaden. Jay’s expression shifts from hurt to something akin to fear .
“Letting go? You want to let go?” Jay’s voice is but a whisper, like glass on the verge of shattering.
Jungwon is silent and that’s all Jay needs before he’s pulling the phone closer, as if doing so could physically close the distance between them.
Jay’s mouth opens, but Jungwon’s already speaking.
“I don’t know, Jay,” Jungwon chokes out. “I don’t think I can keep doing this, not with the distance, the aching, the constant longing. And I get jealous so damn easily—I-I don’t think I’m strong enough to make this work any-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Jay cuts him off, voice shaking, thick with panic and something dangerously close to heartbreak. The sound of it knocks the breath out of Jungwon’s lungs.
And that’s when he realizes he's doing it again. Running . Pushing away the one thing he’s terrified of losing just because it hurts to hold on. God, what is he doing? Why is he trying to run from the very thing he’s been aching to stay for?
“Please, Jay,” Jungwon hiccups, his voice barely holding itself together. “It’s already hard enough just to say this.” He wipes at the tears slipping down his cheeks, but they keep coming, relentless.
“Jungwon, please .” Jay’s voice breaks, barely above a whisper. And when Jungwon finally looks up, he’s not prepared for what he sees: Jay, crying too. Silent tears streak down his face like he’s also reaching his breaking point. “Please, we can make it work— I can make it work, I’ll do anything, please Jungwon, I can’t lose this, I can’t lose you .”
The desperation in Jay’s voice is bare, his words like claws trying desperately to hold onto a bridge that’s already collapsing.
“Jay—”
“No, Jungwon.” Jay cuts in quickly, voice trembling but firm. “Get some sleep. Sleep this off. You don’t mean it. You can’t mean it.”
Jungwon knows deep down he doesn’t mean it, but unfortunately love alone cannot make a relationship work and he is at a point of no return.
“I’m sorry, Jay.”
The words alone feel like a knife, but Jungwon can’t see past the sting in his eyes, can’t fully grasp the sight of Jay crying for the first time.
Jay, who had always been the stronger one. Even back when they were ten and he’d scraped his knee so badly falling off his bike—he hadn’t cried.
But he’s crying now.
And it was Jungwon’s fault.
Before Jay can even respond, Jungwon saves himself from the torture and ends the call. The screen goes black, and the silence that follows is deafening. It mocks him—this stillness, this emptiness. Even the moonlight spilling through the window can’t cut through the darkness that swallows him whole.
What has he done?
“Yang Jungwon.” Sunoo’s voice is the first thing that greets him the next morning.
Jungwon blinks his eyes open, sleep is a heavy figure on his eyelids, soaking into his limbs. But the moment he meets Sunoo’s eyes he nearly jolts in his bed.
“Holy shit, why are you looking at me like that?.” Jungwon curses, clutching onto his bare chest.
Sunoo looks livid . And from the look at the nest on his head it looks like he stormed his way from his vacation house all the way to Jungwon’s.
“ You . Fucking . Idiot .” With each word, Sunoo steps closer, his eyes blazing until he’s face to face with Jungwon. “I told you to talk to him, not try to break up with him, you complete idiot .”
The realization sinks into Jungwon’s stomach. So last night wasn’t a nightmare then. It was real. He did try to break up with Jay. And all of a sudden every emotion from last night begins to flood back like a dam waiting to burst. Guilt, frustration, hurt, regret , every emotion hitting like a damn truck.
“And why do you care so much?” Jungwon snaps, even though deep down he knows he’s the one at fault. He didn’t even try to hear Jay out. He just let the hurt and frustration blind him until he did what he always does: ran.
“Why do I care?” He laughs, looking at Jungwon like he's lost his absolute mind. “Because I know you didn’t mean it. I think you’re forgetting that it wasn’t just Jay who grew up with you— I did too. And while I may not know you as well as Jay does, I still know you.”
Jungwon stays silent because, well, nothing Sunoo has said so far was wrong. In fact, it was much closer to the truth than Jungwon could ever voice out loud.
“I know you, and I know Jay. You two can’t live without each other. So yeah, maybe it was a pretty smart move on my part, trying to stop you from doing something this stupid.”
Inhaling sharply, Jungwon can’t fight the glare he shoots at Sunoo. He hates admitting when he’s wrong, pride has always been his biggest downfall.
“And what can you even do?” he snaps. “There’s nothing you can do. I ended things with Jay last night and-” he grabs his phone, eyes scanning the screen, “the fact that he hasn’t even tried to call me says enough. He doesn’t care.”
Honestly, you’d think he’d at least try to call . Jungwon scoffs as he throws his phone aside.
“Jungwon,” Sunoo begins, sighing and rubbing his eyes as if Jungwon just dumped ten years' worth of stress onto him in the past five minutes.
“No, really—I fucked it up. I ruined everything, and that’s on me,” Jungwon mutters, bitterly. I’ll find a way to live without Jay, is what he doesn’t say. Though from just the thought alone, Jungwon knows he’d rather die.
But then-
“ Wait .” That’s when Jungwon realizes something, his head whips almost painfully toward Sunoo. “How did you even know about this whole thing?”
Sunoo stiffens, breath catching ever so slightly before he looks away
Jungwon grabs his arm instantly. “Kim Sunoo, did Jay tell you?” His voice is sharp, like the name tastes foul on his tongue. Anger brews under his skin, the betrayal simmering.
“Oh, I’ll spare you the tantrum,” Sunoo snaps, turning back to face him. “Before you start acting like Jay’s going around gossiping—he called me last night. After he almost got into an accident on his way to the airport.”
Jungwon’s blood goes cold.
What the fuck?
“He called me because he knew you wouldn’t pick up, and I was the only other person he could think of,” Sunoo says, standing now, brushing invisible dust from his pants with jerky, frustrated motions. “He nearly got into an accident speeding to the airport, Jungwon. Speeding . If that doesn’t prove how much he cares, then I seriously don’t know what will.”
Jay almost got himself hurt speeding the way to the airport, Jungwon repeats in his head. The word almost is the only thing keeping him tethered to reality–the thin, fragile line between sanity and completely falling apart. He could have almost lost Jay, because Jay was speeding to the airport— wait .
Color drains from Jungwon’s face while his heart slams like a tsunami in his chest.
Jay was speeding to the airport, Jay was speeding to him . So that means-
A knock rattles him out of his thoughts. Sharp and urgent, similar to the pounding in his chest.
Jungwon stares at the door, breath caught in his throat .
No. It couldn’t be.
Not after everything he said. Not after last night.
But then the knock comes again, this time softer. Hesitant almost.
Jungwon’s legs are moving before he can even process it, he’s moving fast past Sunoo who stands beside his bed. He nearly trips over stray clothes in his haste but he can’t help it, there are clouds in his head, stardust on his tongue, but all his body seems to chant is Jay, Jay, Jay .
He swings the door open and there he is.
Jay.
Out of breath, eyes red, hair slightly disheveled, and suitcase still by his side like he hadn’t even stopped to put it down. Like he came straight here. Like he couldn’t wait a second longer.
He feels like his legs are going to give out. His vision blurs again, but not from sadness this time, but from the sheer overwhelming relief of seeing Jay standing there. Alive. Real. Here.
All he can register are Jay’s open arms, waiting, patient, trembling, and that familiar smile. It’s small, almost hesitant, like Jay’s bracing himself for rejection. Like he’s not sure if he still has the right to hold Jungwon. Like he’s trying to hold it together, wondering if Jungwon would even reach for him.
Jungwon doesn’t even think.
He crashes into him.
Arms around Jay’s neck, fingers clutching fabric like if he lets go now, everything will slip through his fingers again.
“You came,” Jungwon chokes, voice muffled into Jay’s shoulder. “You’re safe,” he chants softly into his skin, like it was something he needed ingrained into his brain to make sure it was real.
“I told you,” Jay whispers, holding him like he’s afraid he’ll disappear. “I’d always come back to you.”
They hold each other as if the other isn’t real. As if a single inch apart could destroy what seemed like an illusion.
When they do pull back, Jungwon realizes that Sunoo has slipped away, a flash of brown disappearing down the hall. He also sees the wet patch that Jay tries to hurriedly wipe away from his eyes but fails miserably to hide it when Jungwon grabs his chin. The look on Jay’s face is downright burning . There are unshed tears coating like a veil over his dark brown eyes and his body trembles in Jungwon’s hold.
“Please, Jungwon, tell me you didn’t mean it.” Jay’s voice is near pleading, so raw and fragile that it makes Jungwon’s chest ache.
God, he feels awful—disgusted with himself for putting Jay through that kind of pain. He must’ve been out of his mind last night, trying to run from something he knew he could never escape. Because the truth is, he could never run away from Jay.
And yet… he still did.
But Jay didn’t let him go. Jay ran back—no, flew back. Chased after him like Jungwon was something worth saving.
Jungwon pulls away just enough to meet Jay’s eyes, red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean it,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean a word of it.”
Jay exhales shakily like he’s been holding his breath since the moment Jungwon hung up.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he says, voice cracking, and Jungwon nods, because he knows. “Don’t do that again. Don’t push me away like that.”
“I won’t,” Jungwon says just as quickly. “I promise.”
He promises like hadn’t just broken a promise he swore he’d keep, swallowing thickly Jungwon feels the guilt bubbling in his stomach, “I promised myself I wouldn’t hurt you like that again. And I did, I’m so sorry Jay.”
He doesn’t have to remind Jay about what it was because the look on his face tells Jungwon that he knows–that he remembers it all too. But what makes Jungwon nearly sick to his stomach with regret is the love that still floods Jay’s eyes when he’s looking at him. He can see it in the way the corners of his eyes crinkle into that soft look that’s always directed to Jungwon, and only Jungwon.
How can Jay still look at him like that, with so much love, so much hope, after the mess he made?
His voice shakes when he speaks. “You’re too good to me,” he whispers, not meeting Jay’s eyes. “After everything, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t come back.”
Jay tilts Jungwon’s chin up gently, forcing their eyes to meet. “And miss the chance to choose you all over again?” he says, a sad smile on his lips. “No. I’d do it a thousand times, even if it hurts.”
Jungwon chews his lips to force himself to calm down. He steps forward, resting his forehead against Jay’s. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Then we’re even,” Jay replies softly. “So let’s stop trying to measure who deserves what. I just need you to stay. Just, stay, Jungwon.” his warm breath fanning against Jungwon’s cheeks and for the first time in months, Jungwon feels like things could actually be okay again.
“I can’t believe I actually tried to break things off with you,” Jungwon says with a breathy laugh, his fingers threading gently through Jay’s hair. His laugh sounds hollow, almost like he’s trying to convince himself that everything is fine, but the weight of his own actions still lingers.
Jay shifts slightly in his lap, looking up at Jungwon with that tender look like he still can’t believe that this is real. They’ve been through too much to just brush it all away with a laugh, but right now, with Jay in his arms, Jungwon lets himself feel grounded even if it’s just for a moment.
“You don’t know how scared I was,” Jungwon admits, the reality of what he almost lost settling heavily in his chest. “Scared that I’d push you away forever just because I was scared of it.”
Jay’s gaze softens as he looks up at him, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around Jungwon’s like he’s holding on to something more than just his hand.
“Scared of what, love?” He asks softly.
“It’s weird,” Jungwon starts, watching the way their hands intertwine, amazed by how every crack in their hands seemed as if they were made to fit into one another, “I hated change, but for some reason, at the same time, I craved it so much.”
Jay hums, not to interrupt, but to let him know he’s listening.
“I think I was scared of you changing, especially,” shifting slightly under Jay’s gaze, “I was scared that once you were in London, the old version of you would be gone, and I guess that’s what made me hold on so tightly. Seeing you make new friends and have all these new experiences—don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy for you, Jay. I really am. But a part of me felt… left behind.”
He laughs, almost sheepishly. “Like I was still frozen in the memory of us, while you were out there becoming this whole new person. And I was scared—scared that the new you might not need me anymore. That maybe I wouldn’t fit into your world anymore.” he says more quietly.
“Jungwon..” Jay’s fingers linger softly against his knuckles, a silent reassurance but he doesn’t press because Jungwon begins talking again.
“Sunoo asked me once if I was holding on because I loved you or because the idea of letting go of the past versions of you scared me more. I didn’t know how to answer him. But now,” he pauses, breath catching as he looks at Jay, really looks at him, “I think I’m learning that love isn’t about freezing time. It’s about moving with it. You’re going to change, it’s inevitable, and so am I, but as long as this ,” he places Jay’s palm against his bare chest where he can hear his heart thumping steadily against his skin, “as long as this doesn't change, nothing else really matters.”
Jay's eyes are bright in a way Jungwon has never seen before, shifting closer to him, “You never had to hold on that tightly, Jungwon. I was never planning on letting go.”
“You never have to worry about that,” Jay says, he brings Jungwon’s hands up to his lips, kissing his knuckles softly. “But I get it. I see now why you tried to run away, I know it’s scary— this , love. It’s scary because sometimes people forget that love is a verb. It’s not just something you feel, it’s something you do . It’s a muscle you exercise because love alone is not enough to make a relationship work—because love in itself is not something that exists on its own . You have to wake up and choose to practice it, it’s a choice you have to make every day and that’s what I choose to do, Jungwon. I wake up every day and I choose this, I choose you , I choose us . No matter how many arguments and misunderstandings we have—it doesn’t have a thing on me if it means I can have you, for as long as you’ll let me.”
Jay says it with so much conviction, so much truth that Jungwon begins to believe him. It’s strange and unfamiliar, Jungwon thinks, that someone could love you this much, so openly, so surely. Something warm prickles in his eyes as Jay presses soft kisses into his skin.
“But it’s not just about me. It’s about you too, Jungwon. You have to be willing to stay , to fight for this.” the older male continues, “I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll put in the effort. Every single damn day, Jungwon. I’ll fight for us. But you have to let me. You can’t keep pushing me away just because it feels like you’re stepping into uncharted territory.”
Jay pauses, his lips brushing against the back of Jungwon’s hand, and just for keepsake, Jungwon tucks it into his ‘ core memories of Jay ’ file.
“Because love—it’s terrifying as hell, yeah. I’ll admit, this whole entire thing still scares me but with you by my side, it doesn’t feel too scary.” Jay gives him that lazy half-smile, half-smirk that never fails to make Jungwon’s heart do backflips in his chest.
“So let me stay. Not just in your life, but in the parts you’re scared to show anyone. The parts you think are too messy, too complicated, too much. Let me see all of it. All of you.”
A hitch catches in his throat, and Jungwon finds that he cannot move. The look in Jay’s eye is so intense he can’t help but look away. Too much . It’s too much. But for the first time, instead of feeling the need to run away, Jungwon feels the intense need to remain . To stay here, bathed in Jay’s love, have it submerge every one of his senses until he can’t feel anything but it.
The hitch in his voice only worsens when he feels lips on his jaw, soft and tender feather-like kisses pressing against his skin. God, he was never a sucker for physical touch but this might just send him over the edge after months of not being to feel Jay.
“Let me love you.” That’s the last thing Jungwon registers before soft lips trail lower, and his eyes fall shut as Jay sets everything he’s ever known ablaze.
Seven months later…
“I think that’s the last of it.” Jungwon groans as he stretches, his muscles sighing in delight as he finally gets up.
“I can’t believe you’re actually moving out now.” Sunoo juts out his bottom lips as he throws an arm dramatically around Jungwon’s shoulder. “My baby is all grown up.”
“Oh please .” Jungwon rolls his eyes but it lacks venom, “You’re acting like you didn’t just move out too three months ago.”
“Oh well yeah,” Sunoo grins, “Paris has been a delight.”
Pushing the last of his boxes out of the room, Jungwon grins back, “I bet.”
It’s been seven months, and July is right around the corner, summer’s back in full force. Jungwon’s days have been filled with heavy boxes, empty rooms, and sun-soaked afternoons. He’s trying his best to take in everything before he leaves because guess who’s going to Oxford ? That’s right Jungwon is.
He’s proud to say that after a whole year of prepping, he’d score himself an interview, and albeit feeling anxious the first few weeks waiting for a response back (despite Jay’s numerous attempts to reassure him) a small part of him knew he’d get it.
Now, he’s leaving. He’s leaving this small town, this place full of memories, fig trees, and freshwater. The streets he used to bike down as a kid, the corner store with the chipped paint and friendly old man who always gave him an extra piece of candy, the creaky front porch where he first kissed Jay under the summer’s moonlight. This small town that he calls home.
His parents are sad he’s moving out, worried too, but they understand (and maybe, hearing that Jay was going to be there eased their anxiousness, actually scratch that maybe—it definitely eased their worriedness by a huge margin.) His mom keeps sneaking folded laundry into his suitcase like he’ll forget how to wash his own clothes, and his dad has offered to drive him to the airport three times already, even though it’s hours out of the way. They don’t say it directly, but he sees it in their eyes, the pride, the ache, the love. They’re letting him go, the way good parents do, even if it hurts.
And his relationship with Jay? Well, they haven’t seen each other in nearly seven months, not since the day Jay flew in to save their relationship on the day Jungwon almost made the worst decision of his life.
That day was as Jungwon remembers: messy and it sheds light on a lot of things he wanted to keep inside because being vulnerable was never his strong suit, but for some reason, opening up to Jay just made sense. They promised each other that they’d try— really try this time because, to Jungwon, the thought that two people want something so bad but not being able to make it work was just tragic .
So they tried. FaceTime calls turned into lifelines. Jay would send videos of his morning walks through campus, or ramble about a class project while eating cereal at 2 AM. Jungwon would send clips of sunsets from his window, or record voice memos when he missed Jay too much to type. They learned how to be there without being there.
Distance became an inconvenience at best, but it was all worth it when Jungwon (after confirming he was officially accepted into Oxford as a literature major) surprised Jay at his flat with the good news. Jay had had a shitty day, one of those soul-sucking, nothing-goes-right kind of days. And Jungwon still remembers the exact moment: the way Jay’s entire face lit back to life when he walked in and saw Jungwon sitting at his dining table, wearing his hoodie, with a burnt plate of spaghetti and the guiltiest smile.
After that, Jay also casually mentioned that Heeseung was moving out—or more accurately, that Jay was kicking him out. That had only added to Jungwon’s giddy mood (but don’t tell Heeseung that…).
“Does he know you’re arriving today?” Sunoo asks as he and Jungwon walk down the stairs to where his father is packing the last of his luggage.
“Yeah, he’s already at the airport.” Jungwon scoffs jokingly, he toes his shoe on before stepping into the courtyard where the car is parked waiting. The air smells faintly of summer, fresh and bittersweet, like the last few days he’s spent here, reminiscing on every memory he’s had since he was a child.
Sunoo trails behind him, his voice a little quieter now, “You’re really leaving, huh?”
“Don’t miss me too much.” Jungwon teases despite the lump that forms in his throat. He’s never been good at saying goodbyes.
His parents are waiting for him, arms wide open as they begin to bide their goodbyes. Sunoo stands back, giving them a moment before turning to Jungwon, his face softened with an expression Jungwon places as bittersweetness. “Hey, you better call me when you get there. No excuses.”
Jungwon laughs, though it’s tinged with sadness. “Yeah, I will. And, Sunoo? Thank you.”
He has a hell lot to thank Sunoo for. From the late night runs to conversations at the lake, to Sunoo barging into his room at seven in the morning to tell him how much of a complete moron he was for trying to break up with Jay.
Sunoo grins, but his voice cracks as he says, “You better come back for visits. I’m not losing my best friend to some fancy university in England.”
“And I better not lose you for some Eiffel Tower in Paris.” Jungwon raises an eyebrow as he hops into the passenger seat.
“Of course not.” Sunoo huffs.
With one last hug, Jungwon shuts the car door. And as the engine hums to life and starts to pull away from the house, he turns away from where Sunoo and his parents stand in the yard, refusing to look back. But despite the sadness that colors him, another small light flickers softly in him: hope . As the car turns the corner, the house disappears from view. And just like that, Jungwon’s new chapter begins.
“Oh god,” Jungwon groans quietly as he walks past the doors separating him from the arrivals section at the airport because the first thing he sees is a humongous bright pink poster that reads “ Welcome home my baby cat ♡ ” with his face cut out and pasted onto the face of a cat. From the strange looks he’s getting from other people, it’s clear they’re just as horrified as he is.
His eyes widen when he spots Jay standing there with a bouquet of white roses, holding the edge of the poster with a sheepish grin. Jay’s looking down at his shoes, clearly trying not to laugh at his own absurdity. The pink poster is almost comically out of place, but it unmistakably screams Jay’s production .
Jungwon’s face flushes a bright shade of red, he’s rushing to Jay before he can catch any more eyes,
“Welcome home, my baby-” Jay’s greeting is cut short when Jungwon jabs him right in the stomach, “Ow!” he startles back slightly.
Jungwon crosses his arms, clearly flustered. “Jay, I told you not to do anything like this. What’s with the poster?”
Jay looks sheepish but still manages to laugh, the joy in his eyes unmistakable. “What? You don’t like it? I thought it was unique.”
Jungwon shakes his head, unable to suppress a smile. "It’s a little much, even for you." He glances around at the people still eyeing them. “And now we’re the center of attention in the entire arrivals section.”
“Good,” Jay grins mischievously, “Let everyone know who’s important around here.”
Jungwon laughs softly despite himself, still mortified by the attention they’re getting. He sighs, turning to face Jay fully. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Jay steps closer, his smile softening. “I had to. You’ve been gone for so long. I wanted to make it memorable.”
Jungwon lets out a long breath, finally relaxing just a little. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know,” Jay replies, eyes sparkling with mischief and affection, “And lucky for me, that’s enough to forgive this ridiculous poster.”
“Whatever,” Jungwon scoffs but it lacks venom as he throws his arms around Jay’s neck, the warmth and familiarity forms a small bubble of comfort in him. Finally being able to feel Jay again made it feel like all those months apart was worth it.
And as they stand there, swaying slightly, Jungwon’s thoughts slow down. The weight of the past months lifts from his shoulders, and he finds himself lost in the moment. The thought hits him—they won’t ever be apart again.
There’s no more longing, no more distance, no more long nights of suffering as Jungwon likes to call it. They’ve made it, and now it’s just them, here, together.
“Let’s go home?” Jay nudges his nose against the side of Jungwon’s head softly.
Humming in contentment, Jungwon nods. “Let’s go home.”
Later that night, Jungwon finds himself sprawling across the couch, legs thrown haphazardly over Jay’s. The older one is laughing at something on the T.V. screen while simultaneously stuffing his mouth with popcorn—just the sight itself was so intimate, so inherently domestic, something curls in Jungwon’s chest. A soft, warm feeling that overrides his senses. He’s here, home, with Jay.
At first, Jungwon used to think that home meant a place; his house, his bedroom, Italy, where he grew up and made every single one of his first memories. But now, he’s come to realize something else: home is where Jay is.
Italy only ever felt like home because Jay was there. And now, here in London, standing in a flat that smells faintly of sandalwood and Jay’s shampoo, he feels it again—that warmth in his chest, that grounding sense of belonging.
There was a time when Park Jongseong had asked him where he thinks he’d see himself in ten years, and now after a year, Jungwon thinks he finally has the answer.
Here. With Jay. That’s home.
And when he looks back at the man now laughing at some corny joke the characters on screen just made, head tilted, eyes crinkled, the sound so familiar it tugs at something in Jungwon’s chest—he realizes just how deeply in love he is.
So much so that home isn’t a place, or a building, or even a memory anymore.
It’s a person.
It’s Jay.
The version of him that he was a couple of months ago would be terrified as hell to even think that about a person but now the thought itself is not so scary. It’s not so scary because it’s Jay.
Wordlessly, he reaches out to intertwine his hands with Jay, loving the way their hands just seem to fit together so seamlessly, like they were sculpted for this, for each other.
He doesn’t notice when Jay turns to look at him, doesn’t register the way Jay’s thumb rubs softly against his knuckles like he always does, because with a startling realization that knocks the breath out of him, he notices it— Jay, Jay looks like him.
Not in the way they’ve always shared similar features, but in the way Jay’s eyes mirror his own, holding the same kind of love, the same quiet ache. For a second, it’s like looking at a reflection, not just of his face, but of everything he’s ever felt. And he remembers that theory—the one that says soulmates begin to resemble each other over time. He used to laugh at that. But now, sitting here with Jay, he feels like the universe is biting him in the ass for not believing in that.
“What is it, love?” Jay laughs as he goes to ruffle Jungwon’s hair.
The eye smile, that damn eye smile, Jungwon’s breath is caught in his throat. Despite knowing this man since childhood, there has never been a moment where Jay was anything but devastatingly handsome.
“Jungwon.” Jungwon breathes out, eyes never leaving Jay’s.
Jay looks lost for a split second, but then Jungwon watches as realization dawns, that soft smile tugging at his lips as he pulls Jungwon closer.
“Jay, Jay, Jay,” Jay murmurs,
And in a softer, hushed tone, as if he’s afraid the world might overhear their secret, he whispers, “ Call me by your name, and I’ll call you by mine .”
In return, Jungwon just smiles.
Yeah, the distance never stood a chance.