Chapter Text
“Shua, are you okay?” Myungho asked gently.
They had just wrapped up filming another episode of GOING SEVENTEEN. Joshua felt a little off, the medicine made him groggy. His psychiatrist had recommended he try taking it in the morning instead of at night. But Jeonghan didn’t know yet. They’d both been too busy, especially Jeonghan, who had recently started doing YouTube content with Seungcheol. Their first episode was billiards, something both of them genuinely enjoyed.
“I’m okay, Myungho-yah. Why?” Joshua smiled, trying to wave the concern off.
“You look pale… and tired.”
“I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Alright, but make sure you eat, okay? And tell Jeonghan-hyung to take better care of you.”
That last part made Joshua pause. Myungho gave him a pat on the shoulder and added softly, “You look at him like he’s love itself, hyung. And he looks at you the same way.”
Joshua couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Sorry if we didn’t tell you earlier,” he said. “It’s just… we know management wouldn’t approve, so we’ve been keeping it a secret.”
He used to not care whether people knew or not. Before, love felt like enough. But now? More than anything, Joshua craved assurance.
“It’s okay, hyung. It’s your relationship. You get to decide what to do with it,” Myungho replied sincerely. “I’m happy for you and Jeonghan-hyung.”
Joshua gave him a grateful smile, feeling a little lighter, a little less alone.
Then, with hesitation, he asked, “Myungho… do you think Jeonghan still looks at me that way?”
He needed to hear it—from someone, anyone. Just something to confirm that the love was still real. That Jeonghan hadn’t quietly drifted away.
Myungho was silent for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.
“He does, hyung. I see it. But…”
“But?” Joshua’s heart sank slightly.
“But is it enough?”
“Huh?” Joshua asked, confused.
“I mean… is it enough that he loves you, even if it hurts you at the same time?” Myungho’s voice was calm, but firm. “Jealousy doesn’t kill relationships, hyung. Indifference does. You’re not a bad person for feeling jealous. You’re human. And maybe… maybe it’s time you talked to Jeonghan-hyung. Really talked.”
He paused. "Let him see this version of you too. The one that’s tired. The one that needs to be chosen. You deserve to be loved like that, not just in the quiet moments, but in the heavy ones too.”
After the talk with Myungho, Joshua felt a bit lighter, like the knot in his chest had finally loosened, even if just a little. He was now waiting for Jeonghan, who had gone to change clothes after filming. Tonight, they were heading to Joshua’s apartment together.
Joshua had offered to cook dinner, It had been months since they last shared a quiet date night, just the two of them. Jeonghan had recently bought a LEGO set, and they promised to build it together once things slowed down. Tonight felt like a good time to finally do it.
He saw Jeonghan approaching from the hallway, still drying his slightly damp hair with a towel. When he reached Joshua, he casually threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.
“Let’s go, Joshuji!” Jeonghan said with that familiar smile, the one that always felt like home.
Later, while they were eating at the small table in Joshua’s apartment, Jeonghan glanced at him and asked, “Tomorrow’s our anniversary. What do you want to do?”
Joshua smiled. “I want to walk by the Han River, like we used to. Just us. No cameras, no rush.”
Jeonghan’s eyes lit up. “Same with you, baby. And how about a picnic too?” he added, already picturing the calm riverside and Joshua’s hand in his.
Joshua nodded enthusiastically. “Okay!”
He paused, then added with a soft grin, “I’ll bake us cookies after we eat, so we can bring them tomorrow.”
Jeonghan beamed. “I’ll help you—and cheer you on from the sidelines, baby!” he said with a laugh, already pushing his chair back playfully.
Joshua rolled his eyes fondly, but his smile lingered. It was in these small moments, domestic, quiet, and unhurried where he felt safest.
So, he pushed the thoughts away. He tucked the words back into his chest, the ones about the pills, the anxiety, the sleepless nights, the fear that maybe he wasn’t enough. The insecurities he carried quietly in their relationship, unsure of when or if he’d ever find the right moment to say them out loud.
Right now, with Jeonghan laughing in his kitchen, sleeves rolled up, talking about cookies and picnic spots, it felt like maybe things could stay like this a little longer.
The next morning came gently, sunlight slipping through the half-closed curtains of Joshua’s apartment.
Joshua stirred awake to the soft rustling of clothes and the sound of Jeonghan moving quietly around the room. He blinked his eyes open to see his boyfriend already dressed, slipping on his jacket with a slight frown.
“Han?” Joshua’s voice was raspy with sleep.
Jeonghan turned, walking over to his side of the bed. He sat down gently, brushing a hand over Joshua’s hair. “Sorry, love. There’s been a sudden shoot added for me and Cheol. They just called early this morning.”
Joshua blinked, trying to process the words through the haze of sleep and mild disappointment. “I thought… we were going to spend the day together.”
“I know, baby. I’m really sorry,” Jeonghan said, voice full of regret. “I tried to push it back, but it’s for an urgent promo. I’ll make it in time for our picnic, I promise.”
Joshua’s expression faltered for a second, the disappointment slipping through before he could hide it. “But… today’s our anniversary.”
Jeonghan took his hand immediately, squeezing it. “I know. And I hate this. But I’ll be back, Shua. I promise. “
“You’ll come back in time?” Joshua asked, voice quiet, almost fragile.
Jeonghan smiled softly and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. “In time for the walk. In time for the picnic. In time for everything. Wait for me, baby.”
Joshua nodded slowly, not trusting himself to say anything more.
And then Jeonghan was gone.
𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧.
Hours passed.
Joshua packed the picnic basket, even changed into something comfortable for the walk they had planned. Noon came and went. He tried not to look at the clock too much. Jeonghan was just caught up. He would be here. He promised.
Joshua glanced at the clock again. 5:47 p.m.
He sighed and reached for his phone, the screen lighting up just as his fingers touched it. His heart lifted with a flutter of hope. Finally.
But the moment he opened the notification, it sank like a stone.
Hoshi had sent a photo in the group chat.
There, in the slightly blurry but unmistakable image, was Jeonghan and Seungcheol, sitting in a cozy-looking pub, drinks in hand, mid-laugh.
Hoshi: “Look what I saw 😤 the betrayal! They drank without us! 🍻”
Joshua just stared. The silence around him grew louder.
The picnic basket sat still by the door. The cookies he had carefully wrapped for them were already turning stale. His phone stayed in his hand, but his fingers no longer moved.
He tried to rationalize—Maybe it was after the shoot. Maybe they just dropped by for one drink. Maybe Han forgot to text.
But his tears betrayed him.
Not because Jeonghan went drinking.
But because he didn’t call.
Because he promised.
Because today mattered.
He hated it.
He hated how he was slowly beginning to expect nothing from Jeonghan,
how moments like this had started to feel normal in their relationship.
How jealousy was clawing at him in places he thought were secure.
How he kept comparing himself to Seungcheol,
when their leader had done nothing wrong.
𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚, he thought bitterly,
staring at the untouched cookies on the counter.
The picnic blanket still folded neatly by the door.
Jeonghan came home the next day—just like he always did. As if nothing had happened.
There were no apologies at the door, no explanation offered for the silence. He simply stood there, eyes tired, wearing the same shirt from last night.
And Joshua, like he always did, let him in.
He didn’t bring up the missed anniversary.
Instead, he smiled softly, moved to the kitchen, cooked Jeonghan’s favorite dish, brewed him coffee, and hugged him tightly, maybe tighter than usual.
𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲.
Maybe that was his flaw. Or maybe it was just love, quiet, stubborn love.
It was strange, really, how things had changed.
How a relationship that began so suddenly on a random Friday with breathless laughter and trembling hands might be ending just as quietly. On a Tuesday morning, under a sky far too bright for what Joshua’s chest carried.
There were no slammed doors.
No screaming.
Just exhaustion. And a truth that felt too heavy to ignore anymore.
He knew Jeonghan felt it, too.
In the way he clung to Joshua’s arms during the hug, lingering longer than usual.
In the way his gaze dropped to the floor, eyes not quite meeting his.
In how he didn’t ask about the untouched cookies on the counter, or the picnic blanket still folded neatly by the door.
Maybe this was the right time.
Maybe there was no more space left for silence.
Joshua exhaled shakily and sat down, eyes locked on the man in front of him.
“Are we still in this together, Jeonghan?” he asked softly, voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears. “Or are we just staying… because it’s easier than ending it?”
Jeonghan didn’t answer right away.
He looked down, lips parted slightly, as if he was trying to gather all the words he’d left unsaid.
Joshua kept going, because it was the only way to stop the ache from festering.
“It wasn’t about the anniversary. I didn’t care about the picnic or the cookies or the pictures. I just wanted… to be remembered. To matter.”
“I know,” Jeonghan whispered, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, Shua. I love you, more than you think. That hasn’t changed, not even for a second.”
He finally looked up, and for the first time in days, Joshua saw sincerity in his eyes.
“If you told me to quit with you today,” Jeonghan continued, “I’d say yes. I’d walk with you, away from everything.”
Joshua blinked, stunned. And yet, somehow, he believed him. He always believed Jeonghan.
But he shook his head gently. “No. I don’t want that. This—this life—you were meant for it. The stage, the lights, the cheers. You were born to be loved by the world.”
Jeonghan’s lips trembled slightly as he nodded. “And you, Shua... you were born to love.”
Joshua smiled bitterly at that. Because it was true. And maybe that was exactly why it hurt so much. Because he had always loved Jeonghan in ways that stretched him thin. In ways that kept him soft even when he wanted to be angry. In ways that stayed even when he knew he shouldn’t. And Jeonghan loved him too. Joshua knew that. It was love, yes. But not the kind that stayed home, Not the kind that chose him, again and again, without having to be asked.
Funny, he thought.
Funny how relationships don’t always end in chaos.
Sometimes they end in quiet realizations.
In tired hearts. In small, unfinished breakfasts.
That day, they finally talked.
Really talked.
About the pills.
About the sleepless nights.
About the creeping insecurities neither of them dared name before.
About the jealousy, the guilt, the distance.
They asked the questions they’d long buried under shared routines and soft touches.
They answered with trembling voices and lowered eyes.
Sometimes, Joshua realized, love ends on an ordinary Tuesday morning, with the sunlight pouring in through the windows like a cruel reminder that the world keeps turning no matter how much you wish it would pause.
Just like Wonwoo once told him:
“Love doesn’t always explode. Sometimes, it fades. And one day, you realize it’s already gone.”
And maybe… just maybe…
This was that day.