Chapter Text
It takes him more than one week to turn his phone on.
The managers have his mother’s phone number and the few times they had to contact him, they did it through his mother’s.
When he turns it on, he’s not surprised to find more notifications than he could’ve ever imagined. Many of them are from one person Taeyong decides to ignore.
He doesn’t check all the members’ texts, it’s not why he turned his phone on. The day he left the dorms he said he would’ve done something, and he still hasn’t.
hyung i know youre okay the managers told us but can you call me please? whenever you want its okay even if its just for one sec, Donghyuck’s latest text says. Taeyong smiles at the screen, and maybe it’s the first smile he didn’t have to force out since the moment he left that café.
It’s almost three in the morning, Taeyong couldn’t sleep and he convinced himself that no one would’ve called him so late. Also, he’s pretty sure Donghyuck’s still awake.
are you up? he sends then, and the reply comes seconds after.
yeah, hyung, call me?
Donghyuck answers the call at the first ring.
“Hyung,” he greets him, voice low, but clear enough, maybe Youngho’s sleeping. “Hyung, how are you?”
Taeyong chuckles, “Hey, Hyuckie,” he greets back, “fine, you?”
He isn’t fine, his chest hurts and there are some things he wishes he could forget, but he’s still there, isn’t he? The world didn’t stop and Taeyong’s still Taeyong. Even if sometimes he feels so lonely and he just wants to go to sleep, and maybe never wake up.
“I miss you,” the other answers, Taeyong can hear the pout in his voice.
“I miss you too, all the others too,” he says. It’s not a lie, he misses the others, but for once in his life he had to be selfish. He had to put himself first not to let himself crumble down even more. “I’m sorry if I disappeared like that.”
“It’s okay, hyung, if you did that then it means you had to,” Donghyuck tells him and the words comfort him more than anything else, right then, knowing Donghyuck understands is enough. “You don’t have to apologise.”
Taeyong hums into the phone, “I should’ve called sooner, but I couldn’t,” he says.
“But now you did.”
He knows Doyoung hasn’t said anything. If there’s something he’s sure about then it’s that, and he kind of promised Donghyuck he would’ve told him. What happened was because Taeyong kept everything to himself, so he doesn’t want it to happen again. He doesn’t want to lose all the people he loves.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Donghyuck whispers before Taeyong can start speaking. “It’s something between you and Doyoung hyung, even if we live together, we’re in the same group and we’re friends, it doesn’t mean you have to tell us everything.”
Taeyong looks down at the ring Doyoung has gifted him, he has never taken it off, even if sometimes it hurts looking at it.
“Just… don’t treat Doyoung differently, okay?” he tells him, “make sure the others don’t either. He’ll be sad if you do.”
“Yeah, hyung,” Donghyuck answers, gentle, “but… did he say something that hurt you?”
“No, Hyuckie, you know he would never,” Taeyong reassures him, and even if Taeyong hasn’t told him what happened, he’s sure Donghyuck already figured out.
“I have to go now,” he tells him then, “go to sleep.”
“You too, hyung,” Donghyuck replies before they end the call.
Taeyong keeps the phone close to his chest, fingers wrapped too tightly around it. He should turn it off and go to sleep, but he can’t. He just can’t.
taeyong, please call me back. i need to hear your voice, the latest text says, and Taeyong has to close his eyes and breathe through his mouth to calm himself.
He isn’t strong enough to read the other texts, so he turns the phone off and hides it in one of the nightstand drawers.
Then, he tries to fall asleep, but he can’t stop thinking about wanting to hear Doyoung’s voice too, even if it will hurt.
⤬
After almost three weeks, Taeyong has to leave his parents’ house and go back to the dorms. Not because he wants to, but because he has to, before the fans start to question his absence more than they should. Taeyong doesn’t exactly remember what the agency came up with to explain it, the managers he has been in contact with told him they decided to go with a family matter, but Taeyong was too out of it to really pay attention.
Since that night he called Donghyuck, Taeyong has tried to talk with all the others too. Besides one. Taeyong can’t still bring himself to reply to that text, he has tried many times, but each one has ended with tears falling down his cheeks and his heart feeling like it was breaking in thousands pieces.
Taeyong’s scared to go back to the dorms, he’s so scared, it doesn’t matter that Doyoung has moved to the tenth floor after Yuta has switched rooms with him. Even if the other won’t live on the fifth floor, it’s not like Taeyong can avoid him forever. If they have schedules, Doyoung will be there and Taeyong will be forced to interact with him if he has to, if there are cameras on them.
Donghyuck’s waiting for him when Taeyong opens the door of the dorms. He has a big smile on his face, and Taeyong doesn’t even have the time to take his shoes off that Donghyuck’s already hugging him.
“Hyung!” he exclaims, arms wrapped tight around his neck, and Taeyong lets Donghyuck kiss his cheek, he doesn’t try to distance himself.
“Hey,” he whispers back. Taeyong can’t say he’s excited to be back, but only then, eyes set on the welcome mat that’s never positioned right, he realises that he actually missed it. He missed the members, living with them, and everything else related to it. He even missed scolding them for leaving a mess in the kitchen and then cleaning after them anyway.
“Hey, hyung,” another voice greets him, and only then Taeyong realises Mark’s there too.
It feels like time hasn’t passed at all, as if the three weeks were just a few minutes, maybe it’s because he doesn’t even remember what he did during the first week. He felt tired and slept a lot, but besides that, everything else feels like a faded dream, one that he can’t remember clearly. And maybe it’s better like that, it doesn’t matter anymore, it’s in the past and Taeyong has promised himself to think only about his own present, no matter what, to try doing what’s best for himself.
He promised that to himself, but he doesn’t know if he will be able not to break it.
Three weeks weren’t enough to erase his feelings or to erase his loneliness, Taeyong has always been aware from the moment he decided to leave the dorms, but distancing himself helped him clear his head, it let him see things from another perspective, a detached one.
He’s still in love with Doyoung, and surely, he will be for much longer, but now that the other knows about it, Taeyong can be himself.
He can wear his heart on his sleeves, he won’t have to hide it anymore, and if Doyoung won’t accept it, Taeyong will know he doesn’t have a chance, so he can only wait for his feelings to disappear. The thought hurts, but sooner or later, the pain will mellow out and everything will be something that has happened, that’s in the past, even if his relationship with Doyoung will never be the same.
Though, he’s still not ready to face Doyoung, he isn’t ready for a rejection yet. But he will be soon, he just has to wait a little more, the time it takes for his heart to start scabbing, until the pieces will be together again, ready to be broken once again. A heart can’t be broken twice, it has to heal first.
“How are you?” he asks them once Donghyuck has let him go and they have walked to the living room.
“Fine,” Mark answers, sitting down on the couch. Taeyong watches Donghyuck sit down, maybe a little too close to Mark, but the other doesn’t seem to mind because he doesn’t even spare Donghyuck a glance, as if he’s used to it. “We weren’t as busy as usual, since some things were rescheduled so you could be in them.”
“I’m sorry I caused you some troubles,” Taeyong apologises, he knows a long and tiring meeting is waiting for him at the agency, one in which he will be scolded for acting so selfishly, for wanting a break in the middle of their comeback schedules and for faking threats to get it, but for once, Taeyong doesn’t care. He knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t leave the dorms, if he saw even a glimpse of Doyoung, so he prefers getting scolded rather than letting himself break beyond repair.
“You didn’t, hyung,” Donghyuck reassures him, a kind smile on his lips, Mark nods at the other’s words. “Like I already said, you had no choice.”
Taeyong smiles back, and even if Donghyuck told him he didn’t need to tell him what happened, he wonders what the other would think about it. What everyone would think about it. He wonders what Doyoung thinks about it.
He still hasn’t read Doyoung’s texts, besides the taeyong, please call me back. i need to hear your voice one, and since that night, Taeyong has wondered why Doyoung would write such words.
Why would he need to hear his voice? Why does it sound so desperate?
Taeyong can’t find an answer to his questions, but he’s too scared to ask Doyoung. Maybe his answers are in the other texts Doyoung sent, or in the voicemails he left, but deep down, he’s scared they won’t be what he’s hoping for, so he prefers not knowing.
⤬
Even after days, Taeyong still hasn’t gotten used to Yuta living on the fifth floor with them, but he’s thankful. He doesn’t know whose idea it was to switch rooms since no one has spoken about what happened, it almost seems as if everything’s normal and Yuta has always lived on the fifth floor, but if Taeyong has to guess, then it was probably Doyoung’s idea.
No one has asked him why he needed a break, it’s clear that he and Doyoung fought, but no one dares to ask why, it’s just glances that last more than they should.
Taeyong doesn’t know what Doyoung could have told them, but if he knows the other well enough, Taeyong’s certain he didn’t speak a word about it. Surely, he has asked about him, since Taeyong didn’t answer any of his texts or calls, but beside that, he mustn’t have uttered a word about the situation.
After three days of him being back, they have their first schedule all together, and dread fills his whole body.
He knows they will both be professional, that who doesn’t know about it won’t ever notice something happened. But Taeyong knows, and even if his face will be neutral, it won’t be the same for his heart. His feelings are still all there and it doesn’t matter how much he wishes he could, he can’t control them. It’s one of the few things he hasn’t learnt yet.
Donghyuck sits by his side in the van, and in his head, Taeyong sighs, glad.
He wants to believe Doyoung would never sit by his side, not after what happened and not when other members are there, and yet, a small part of himself was afraid that Doyoung would’ve done it.
The other has tried to talk to him, to corner him when they’re left alone, reason why Taeyong always sticks to a member’s side, to never find himself alone with Doyoung.
Doyoung must’ve noticed, since he has stopped doing it, but Taeyong’s still scared.
Donghyuck remains by his side for the whole day, and maybe he has noticed about Doyoung too. Taeyong doesn’t ask and doesn’t say anything about it either. He prefers not speaking about what happened when they’re out, not even a whispered word, too afraid someone would hear him. Though, he doesn’t speak about it at the dorms either, even if he’s certain everyone’s waiting for a proper explanation, an explanation that probably will never come from his lips.
“Hyung,” Donghyuck whispers when they’re back in the van, but now, it’s dark outside. A day passed, and Taeyong didn’t even realise.
Taeyong hums, eyes fixed outside, but he’s not really looking at something, just at all the lights passing by.
“Taeyong hyung,” the other calls him again, voice low, and this time, Taeyong turns to face him.
Donghyuck’s looking at him, and in the almost complete darkness of the van, Taeyong can’t see what his eyes are holding in. He can guess, but he can’t be sure.
Then, he sends a glance towards Youngho and Jaehyun, seated behind them, both are wearing earphones and their eyes are closed. Taeyong doesn’t know if they’re sleeping, but even if they would be awake, the faint music he can hear would cover all of his and Donghyuck’s words.
“What are you doing?” Donghyuck asks, his voice holds a seriousness that Taeyong wasn’t expecting to hear. “Hyung, what are you doing?”
Taeyong doesn’t know what the other’s talking about, it doesn’t matter how many times Donghyuck will ask. Or maybe he does, doesn’t he? Maybe it’s about the fact Donghyuck had to stick to his side for the whole day.
“What are you talking about?” he asks back, not because he needs Donghyuck to be clearer, but because he wants to have enough time to come up with an answer, one that isn’t pathetic.
Donghyuck sighs, he looks outside the window for a brief moment, as if he never spoke up, and then he sets his eyes on Taeyong again.
“You’re ignoring him,” he says under his breath, and Donghyuck sounds almost hurt, like he’s the one Taeyong’s ignoring. “I saw he tried to talk to you today, and you… you just left without even looking at him.”
Taeyong lowers his eyes on his hands, rested on his lap, and smiles to himself, sad.
Talking things out is something they always do after arguing, even if it takes days or weeks, they always sort things out after a fight, it’s a reason why the group hasn’t wide cracks in between. But Taeyong and Doyoung didn’t fight, he wishes they did, it wouldn’t be the first time and besides, each time they would always make up. What happened is bigger than a fight, heavier, it’s something that won’t be put past their shoulders once they have talked about it. Taeyong’s feelings won’t just disappear if he lets himself hear what Doyoung wants to tell him.
“It isn’t that easy,” Taeyong tells him, and maybe, for the first time ever, Taeyong thinks that Donghyuck knowing about it isn’t a relief. Right then, it almost feels like a burden, like something that Donghyuck can hold against him. As if Taeyong lost the loneliness it brought him when no one knew about it, that he didn’t need to explain his actions or words to anyone.
Donghyuck chuckles, dry, and Taeyong knows that no matter how accepting the other is, how understanding or supportive he could be, he still wouldn’t totally get it. No one would because the emotions are his, nestled into his heart and he’s the only one who can feel them.
“I know it’s something between the two of them,” Donghyuck then says, voice gentle, “but hyung, I think you should really talk to him, keeping all of it to yourself will just hurt you more.”
Taeyong doesn’t think he can get even more hurt than he already is.
But is there a limit to pain? Or is it just endless? Maybe, it’s endless, feeling it until it will burn him out, until nothing will remain. He will become ash and he will fly away.
He could lie, tell Donghyuck he will talk to Doyoung and lift the worry from his shoulders. The words are on his parted lips, but when he glances at the ring around his index finger, his thumb brushing against its tiny edges, the words travel back in his throat and they remain stuck there.
So he doesn’t say anything, even if Donghyuck’s waiting for an answer, he just keeps his mouth shut and goes back to looking outside. The lights create shapes behind his eyelids, and Taeyong wishes he could stay there forever.
Donghyuck doesn’t try to pull the words out of Taeyong’s mouth, and Taeyong’s thankful.
He’s thankful, but he’s also so sad.
The feeling wraps around his thin body, makes him cold, it freezes his heart and caresses his cheek with fingers that resemble blades.
⤬
Taeyong didn’t want to eavesdrop.
He can understand when he’s not meant to hear certain conversations, and living for years in the dorms has taught him that if the voices are hushed, then it’s surely something that shouldn’t be heard. And yet, he’s not able to walk away like he does each time, even if he wants to.
It’s his name that keeps him rooted to the spot, back against the wall of the hallway that brings to the living room and the kitchen. And then, it’s Doyoung’s voice.
Taeyong knows Doyoung’s talking about him with Jaehyun, maybe of what happened too. He doesn’t know why they are on the fifth floor, but right then, he can’t bring himself to care.
“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Doyoung says, and even if his voice is barely a whisper, Taeyong can still hear the hurt in it. “He’s… I don’t know— I just wanna talk to him, but he doesn’t give me a chance.”
Taeyong closes his eyes. He wants to talk to Doyoung, and yet at the same time, he’s scared.
Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, but Taeyong wishes he did. He wishes the other would try to dissuade Doyoung, tell him to wait, or maybe not try anymore, that it’s clear Taeyong doesn’t want to talk to him. But Jaehyun stays silent, and Doyoung just keeps talking.
“I think—I think he believes I hate him,” Doyoung whispers, voice coated by pain, and Taeyong can almost feel the other’s pain in his own chest.
He doesn’t believe Doyoung hates him, not entirely at least, but maybe some small and hidden part of the other does, a part that Doyoung can’t control, that it knows Taeyong has ruined what they had.
“You can’t be sure,” Jaehyun tells him, words gentle, “maybe he needs some time, maybe it’s better if you just wait for him to come around.”
Taeyong hears Doyoung sigh, and Taeyong imagines him running a hand through his dark strands, again and again, an elbow placed on his knee.
“I love him, Jae,” Doyoung mutters, so low that he almost doesn’t catch it, “but… but he doesn’t let me show it.”
When he touches his cheek, a tear wets his fingertips. Taeyong didn’t even notice tears were in his eyes, that some have escaped.
I love him, Doyoung said, but there are different kinds of love, and Taeyong doesn’t know which one the other’s talking about. He doesn’t want to guess either, too scared he’d pick the wrong one. So he just keeps his eyes closed and forgets the words.
“Everything will be fine, hyung,” Jaehyun says, and even if the words are supposed to comfort Doyoung, they comfort him too. Taeyong hopes Jaehyun’s right, that in the end, it will just be something that has happened, that has affected a short period of time, and not something that keeps stretching on, becoming endless.
“I only want him to be fine.”
It doesn’t matter how much he wants to keep listening, Taeyong shouldn’t be there, those words aren’t meant to be heard by him so with a hand against the wall, he pushes himself away from it and walks back to his bedroom.
The words become muted once the door is closed behind his back and Taeyong uses them to lull himself to sleep.
As always, it’s a dreamless sleep, but Taeyong doesn’t complain. Not when dreams could turn into nightmares.
⤬
Taeyong hears Yuta before the other can unlock the door of the dorm.
He hears the sound the doorlock makes when someone enters a wrong code, and its sound brings him back. It almost feels like a slap to his cheek.
Taeyong knows it’s Yuta because he’s the only one who mistakes the code, always confusing it with the tenth floor one.
Once he looks outside the glass window on the side of the living room, he notices the sun has almost set. The window is open and a light breeze makes the curtain move.
The TV is still on, volume low, but he stopped watching the show he played on it a long time ago, he doesn’t even remember if he started watching it at all, and the bowl of hot soup has gone cold on the small coffee table.
Taeyong glances at it, and notices that half is missing, he doesn’t remember eating either.
It almost feels like he wasn’t in the living room until then, or as if he fell asleep. Maybe he did, and he doesn’t remember that either.
Yuta unlocks the door, Taeyong hears him taking his shoes off and walking towards the living room. It’s then that he looks down on his hands, placed between his crossed legs, and wishes he could just disappear.
Taeyong doesn’t want to face Yuta, he doesn’t want to face anyone, not when he can see all the things they want to ask him in their eyes, tired of the situation he created.
It’s his fault, and even if the others don’t know what exactly happened, maybe they can guess. They can guess he’s the venom that infiltrated into the tiny cracks and made them bigger.
“Hey,” Yuta whispers, and once Taeyong glances up, he sees that the other looks like he’s trying to approach a hurt animal, as if Taeyong could attack him if he said a wrong word. Taeyong almost wants to laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Hey,” he murmurs under his breath, reaching towards the remote to turn the TV off and just go back to his bedroom.
Since he came back, if he isn’t somewhere else because of schedules, it feels like he’s always in his room. But at least in his bedroom, he knows there aren’t eyes following each of his movements, even the smallest ones.
He stands up from the couch, but Yuta puts himself in the doorway and the look in his eyes stops him from walking away. Taeyong doesn’t want to speak to him, and yet at the same time, he doesn’t move.
“How are you?” Yuta asks and once again, Taeyong feels like laughing.
How is he? He doesn’t know. He just knows that each morning he wakes up, but instead he wishes he hadn’t. And he also knows it isn’t a wish born only from the feelings in his heart, but also from the thoughts caged in his head.
“Fine,” is his answer. A lie, but Yuta doesn’t know, and if he sees right through him, Taeyong can’t bring himself to care. He feels too numb to care.
“You sure?”
Of course, Yuta can see through him, it would be weirder if he couldn’t, considering all the years they’ve known each other.
Taeyong nods, weak. He can’t even lie properly, tired of that too.
He tried to keep everything to himself so hard, all of his feelings, all of his thoughts. He held onto them with his cold fingers and kept them secured inside his chest. Even when his fingers started to ache and his chest became too cold, he still did it. He tried so hard, for years, he gritted his teeth and just kept going on, as if nothing changed. But in the end, his effort became dust.
Now, he’s too tired to pretend. He did all of that for nothing. He hurt himself for nothing, lied for nothing.
“Did you eat?” then Yuta asks, and Taeyong wants to tell him to stop asking questions, or to ask ones he really wants to hear the answer to.
He nods again, even if the soup isn’t finished and Yuta can see it too.
“I’m just gonna wash up and go to sleep,” he says under his breath. He doesn’t know what time it is, but he’s certain it’s too early to go to sleep.
Yuta doesn’t say anything, and Taeyong feels sorry for him because he has to deal with him, see how pathetic a member of his group is.
You could leave, for real this time, a mean and small voice whispers the words into his head, but Taeyong ignores it, just like each time.
He could leave, but it wouldn’t solve anything. It would create bigger problems and his venom would spread even more. So he stays, even if it feels like he’s becoming a ghost of himself.
When he walks by Yuta’s side, the other takes his wrist with gentle fingers to stop him, and the touch brings him back to that café, someone else’s fingers on his skin.
Taeyong closes his eyes, shoulder brushing against Yuta’s, and waits. He can’t see the other’s face, both facing opposite directions, but he can imagine it behind his eyelids.
“Whatever it is,” Yuta whispers, words soft, “don’t let it consume you, not for us, but… for yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”
Taeyong keeps his eyes closed and smiles to himself, shaking his head.
He was strong.
He thought he would’ve never lost his strength, but he was wrong. He saw it slip through his fingers and he did nothing to stop it, he just opened them wider to make it slip faster.
Then, Yuta lets his wrist go, turns around and walks towards Doyoung’s room.
Taeyong remains there, his eyes follow the other’s back and he wonders if he was a fool for believing Jaehyun’s words.
For believing everything will be fine.
⤬
A knock wakes him up.
It’s soft, knuckles gently hitting the surface of the door, and yet, it sounds so loud in the silence of his bedroom that it wakes him up.
His fingers wrap around the sheets, eyes on the door, almost believing he imagined it. But then, another knock resonates in the room.
Taeyong doesn’t know who’s the person on the other side of the door. It could be anyone. It could be Donghyuck, or maybe Yuta.
Or it could be Doyoung, even if Jaehyun told him to wait, and deep down, Taeyong fears it’s him. He’s scared Doyoung’s tired of waiting, waiting for him to come around and talk to him, and waiting for answers.
Answers Taeyong doesn’t want to voice out.
Taeyong holds his breath. If he doesn’t reply, whoever it is will think he’s sleeping.
A third knock makes him shut his eyes, fingers tightened around the sheets.
“Taeyong.”
He knows who it is. He’d always recognise that voice.
Doyoung must have understood Taeyong will never go to him, no matter how many days or weeks he waits.
“Taeyong,” he murmurs behind the door. It doesn’t matter how hard he shuts his eyes or hopes for the other to leave, Doyoung doesn’t walk away. He remains right there.
“You don’t have to open the door, just— just hear me out, okay?”
Taeyong doesn’t answer, but he gets up from the bed and slides his back down against the door, sitting on the floor, waiting.
He imagines Doyoung sitting on the other side of the door, their backs separated by it.
Maybe Doyoung has heard him move, or maybe he’s just hoping Taeyong will listen, because after a few moments, he starts speaking.
“It isn’t your fault,” is the first thing he tells him, voice loud enough just to be heard by Taeyong. “Even if you think it is, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
He doesn’t know what the other is talking about. If it’s about his feelings for him, or if it’s about him leaving for three weeks and bringing chaos into the group.
Or maybe Doyoung thinks it’s his fault, that if he hadn’t read what he wrote, nothing would’ve happened. But a smaller part of himself is almost glad the other read it, that he knows. Somehow, it makes him feel relieved.
A burden someone else is aware of.
“I can’t say it just happened, or that we will forget about it,” Doyoung mutters, and Taeyong doesn’t entirely get what the other is trying to say, it’s like a piece is missing and he can’t see the whole picture. “But it still isn’t your fault.”
“I tore the group apart— I broke our balance,” Taeyong whispers, words said through gritted teeth, talking for the first time since the moment Doyoung has knocked at his door.
He has eyes, so he can see the others’ faces when he walks into a room. He pretends he doesn’t, but he notices the way they all stop talking, as if they don’t want him to hear what they’re talking about.
Since the day he left, something shifted in the group, and it happened because of him.
“I’m the one supposed to keep the group together, but I couldn’t even do that.”
“You didn’t tear us apart,” Doyoung tells him, voice slightly louder.
Taeyong knows the other wants to reassure him, that the words are meant to comfort him, but they almost sound like sweet lies, lies he craves for.
“Only because you put yourself first for once, it doesn’t mean you tore us apart.”
Taeyong doesn’t say anything. He rests his head back against the door and waits for the other to keep talking. His hands curl into fists, until he can feel his nails pressing down into his palms.
“It would’ve been worse if you didn’t do that,” he says, and Taeyong can hear the hurt in his voice, as if he were hurting with him, “you would’ve been the one tore apart.”
He knows Doyoung’s right. He knows. But sometimes, accepting the truth is hard.
The other remains silent for some seconds, and Taeyong wishes he could see him. That he could open the door and meet his eyes. But he doesn’t do it because his body feels too heavy, glued to the floor, not letting him get up.
“I came here to tell you to listen to the last voicemail I sent, okay?” he asks him, voice hopeful. “Just listen to it and you’ll understand.”
“Okay,” he whispers, loud enough for the other to catch the word, and then, he hears Doyoung walk away from the door.
Contrary to what he thought, hearing Doyoung leave doesn’t hurt him. It doesn’t break his chest into small sharp pieces.
It doesn’t hurt because he knows that he’d just need to call out his name and Doyoung would be back.
⤬
A soft sound tells him the registration has started, but Taeyong can only hear Doyoung breathe into the phone.
After what feels like hours, Doyoung clears his throat and starts talking.
“Hey, Taeyong,” he whispers, sounding unsure, as if he isn’t ready to speak up yet. The way he says his name feels like a gentle caress on his skin, a caress that would make him close his eyes and lean into it even more.
“I think you’ll never listen to all of these voicemails I left,” he says, words slow, and more than talking to him, it sounds like he’s talking to himself. But Taeyong doesn’t mind.
Doyoung chuckles, the sound warms his chest. He missed hearing it.
Taeyong grips the phone tighter between his fingers and keeps listening, chin leaned on his knees and an arm wrapped around his legs.
“I made a mess, didn’t I?” he asks, and then, he chuckles again. “I shouldn’t have read what you wrote, even if I was so curious after seeing my name at the top of the page, I just— I don’t know what I was supposed to do with it. I could’ve done so many things, trash it, give it back to you, ignoring it, just... not reading it. But I did exactly that.”
His thumb brushes against the ring around his index finger, the edges leave tiny marks when he presses harder on them, and Taeyong almost stops breathing, too caught up into the other’s words.
“I know it won’t change anything, but I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Taeyong knows the other is, and deep down, he also knows he has forgiven him a long time ago.
Then, Doyoung stops talking for a few moments, but he can still hear him breath, so he just waits, eyes closed.
“I don’t know if someday you were going to tell me about your feelings, but you know— you know I would’ve listened, right? And that I would never hate you, no matter what… not for this.”
Now, he knows. Or he already did, he isn’t sure.
“It isn’t something to be ashamed of, or something you should keep hidden,” Doyoung says, voice lower, gentler, and if he keeps his eyes closed, it almost seems like Doyoung’s right there, seated next to him on his bed, talking to him.
“I’m not saying this because I’m the person you love, but because you should never hide love, whoever it is for.”
I’m the person you love, Taeyong repeats the words in his head again and again, until they make a corner of his lips lift up. At least, he knows Doyoung has accepted his love.
“It must have been hard,” he whispers, and even if Taeyong can hear only his voice, he’s certain Doyoung’s eyes were filled with tears. Like his are right then. “All the times I asked you how you were and you told me you were tired, I just— I just wish I could’ve done more, I don’t know how, but I feel like I could’ve done so much more to make that tiredness go away and yet, I never did.”
But he did. He really did. Even if it was just a worried glance, or asking him how he felt, or cooking him breakfast. It was enough. It was more than Taeyong could’ve asked for.
That tiredness is difficult to get rid of, but Taeyong’s trying, he’s trying as hard as he can. And somehow, Doyoung has always helped him not to let it get attached to him even more.
“I wish I could’ve been a stronger shoulder to lean on, but even if I wasn’t, I hope I can become one, that you’ll come to me when you can’t hold all of your pieces together and you’ll need someone else to do it. I will do it, hyung, I will hold you tight and keep you whole.”
A tear runs down his cheek, Taeyong feels it hot on his skin, but he doesn’t wipe it away.
“I will do it because I care about you. You can’t even imagine how much I care about you, Taeyong, how much I want to see you happy,” Doyoung says, words soft, holding so much emotion in them that Taeyong feels overwhelmed. “I want you to be fine, not because I’m selfish and don’t want to deal with you not being fine, but because you deserve that happiness, you deserve so much and I want you to have it all.”
Then, Doyoung takes a deep breath, and Taeyong just presses the phone closer to his ear, scared to miss even one word.
“I told you to never hide your feelings, but maybe–maybe in a way, I did that too. It’s— I’m not completely certain about what they are yet, or how to put them into words… but when I think about it, when I think about what you wrote, your words feel similar to what I feel. I think I’d borrow them to explain it.”
I love him, Jae, Doyoung said, and Taeyong didn’t let himself think about those words. He didn’t let himself hope it could be a love similar to his own. But maybe, now he can hope.
Doyoung laughs, sound almost muted, “I’m taking too long to say this and probably you won’t ever listen to it, or you will stop before getting to its end, but—”
Taeyong holds his breath.
Right then, it’s only him and the voicemail, everything else around him vanishes.
He can only focus on Doyoung’s voice.
“But if I had to use my own words, I think it’d be just—it’d be... I love you the most, Taeyong. I love you like I never loved anyone else.”
He can’t forget the pain he felt, the tiredness doesn’t suddenly go away, the tears he cried don’t backtrack on his cheeks, and yet, after hearing those words, Taeyong feels like he can finally breathe.
Until then, he breathed because he had to, but now, he breathes because he wants to. Because he wants to hear those words again.
Nothing changes, Taeyong still feels the heavy weight on his shoulders, trying to bring him down, but the words give him a bit more of strength to endure it. They give him hope and make him believe that one day, the weight will disappear.
In the voicemail, Doyoung makes a sound in the back of his throat.
“Just come back to me after you’ve listened to this, mh?”
The voicemail ends with a beep, and Taeyong smiles at the black screen of his phone. A tear falls on it and Taeyong brushes it away with his thumb.
After all, maybe Jaehyun was right.
Everything will be fine.