Archive of Our Own

The thing about life is that you don’t always get what you want.

As Jihoon makes his way to the restaurant where his high school class is supposed to be having their reunion, he finds his footsteps growing heavy, as if he had swallowed heavy lead and it was slowly slithering its way through his veins. He isn’t sure why he had decided to come, not when it has been ages since he has last saw his classmates and honestly, Jihoon isn’t someone who likes social interactions like these—not when they’re fake as fuck small talk and Jihoon’s pretty damn sure that it’s highly unlikely that they’re going to meet again after tonight.

He turns his back on from the brightly lit restaurant, but he can vaguely hear Jinyoung’s voice at the back of his head: “Hyung, you should go. It’s been awhile since you last saw time, right? It’ll be nice to see everyone again.”

It’s stupid how he’s letting Jinyoung’s words sway him so easily, but then again, he had always been someone who was easily influenced by the words that come from the people around them—and it’s how Jihoon eventually takes the steps of courage into the restaurant.

“Wow, guess who’s here.”

“You’re still as adorable as before, aren’t you,” Jihoon snipes back, settling into the seat next to Yoojung’s. Yoojung snorts, letting her chin settle on her palm while leaning in closer to Jihoon.

“Well, you never came to any of our reunions,” Yoojung points out. She leans back in her seat for a second, eyes scanning past Jihoon and then, it lands on Jihoon again. “You’re alone today?”

Oh. Well. Guess neither of them had spent the recent years catching up with their high school classmates. And while Jihoon is no longer particularly hung up over the events that had happened, Jihoon doesn’t really want to talk about it either.

“Yeah,” Jihoon nods. “I’m alone today.”

Yoojung hums in response. She doesn’t prod, but there’s a look in her eyes that tell Jihoon that she knows that there’s more that’s left unsaid. As boisterous as Yoojung can be whenever she’s partnered up with he who shall not be named (and this is not Lord Voldemort), Jihoon likes the fact that Yoojung does have the EQ of not prodding when Jihoon doesn’t want to talk about shit. Then, she’s placing a mug of beer, on top of a paper coaster and slides it in front of him.

“Well, drink up then, dumbass.”

By now, Jihoon thinks that he’s started to lose count of the number of drinks that he’s had. It is nice though, to look at familiar faces all over again: Doyeon, Yoojung, Mark—and catch up with all the time that has been lost. It’s a tad bittersweet to see how dreams change with time, and most of them find themselves unable to pursue whatever they wanted, and settled with something that society wanted instead.

He doesn’t talk much about himself. Park Jihoon never does.

What he does is raise his glass when they call for a round of cheers, nod in tune to the stories that they share and Jihoon finds himself enjoying the reunion party even though he’s pretty damn sure that he’s going to wake up with a god awful hangover with the amount of alcohol that he’s consuming (and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to come to a stop).

It’s always easier to blame others (read: alcohol) rather than yourself, Jihoon thinks.

It’s what he tells himself when the door to their private room opens with a loud slide, and when he turns back, it’s a face that he never knew that he missed so much.

Not until now.

Since the beginning of Park Jihoon’s adolescent life, he would not deny that he is an avid consumer of romantic chick flicks. It almost resembles the slow motion effect that invades the film when the two lead characters meet eyes, and at that moment, all that exists is the two of them and everything else is background noise.

“You’re here,” Jihoon finds the words escaping even before he realises it.

But no, this ain’t no fucking chick flick.

“Wow,” Yoojung snorts from beside him, effectively breaking whatever illusion that had been cast. “It’s the first time that the two Parks decide to come for the reunion party. This calls for a celebration.”

There are two different occasions where Woojin’s eyebrows would furrow together. The first is when he’s constipated and can’t get the shit out, and the other is when he’s in pain and can’t get his shit together.

It’s been so many fucking years, but Jihoon still knows how to read Woojin like a fucking book and it’s probably the reason why Jihoon’s heart clenches tight when Woojin’s eyebrows furrow together before tearing his gaze away from Jihoon, and walking to the other end of the table. Jihoon’s pretty damn sure that Woojin doesn’t have any problems with his bowel movements, and instead, what he has a problem with starts with a P and ends with an N.

The table turns silent as Woojin’s gaze shifts past Jihoon and he slides into the seat next to Mark. Jihoon doesn’t miss the way the gazes dart between him and Woojin. But it seems like Woojin doesn’t give a fuck about the god-tier obviousness, from the way he picks up the menu and flips through it.

God. This is why he should never have come for this high school reunion party. He runs his fingers through his bangs, and Yoojung pulls him down slightly so that she can whisper in his ear, “What the hell happened to you and Woojin? Why is he sitting all the way there?”

“What do you think,” Jihoon sighs.

“No shit,” Yoojung’s eyes widen. “Wait, no, I need the verbal confirmation from you. Tell me. Tell me what happened.”

Knowing something is easy but admitting something isn’t easy.

So Jihoon takes a huge breath, as if it could provide him with an entire world’s worth of courage. And it’s probably still not enough because he can’t bring himself to look at Yoojung while he says:

“We broke up.”

—

The thing about promises is that they are meant to be broken, and Jihoon finds this out in the hard way.

Park Jihoon and Park Woojin were like the best friends that you’d see in any slice of life romantic comedy series, or chick flick. They were inseparable, bearing an uncanny resemblance to each other from the snacks that they liked (sweet, caramelised corn chips that half the world despised) to the humour that hit at the right spots. Although Woojin loved sports and Jihoon hated having to move his body, Jihoon wasn’t someone who’d sit still as Woojin teased him—and that has let to more water pipes fight than Jihoon could count on both hands.

And it wasn’t a surprise that the two of them would, well, start dating .

Dating’s a forcefully imposed label by society, and while Jihoon wouldn’t think of how they are like to be dating as per say, Jihoon knows what dating behaviour is and they were the exact definition of it.

Jihoon hated the way his heart would speed up whenever Woojin swung an arm around his shoulder. Jihoon hated the way Woojin would literally drop anything if it was Jihoon who need something. And Jihoon hated the way Woojin’s fingers would fit into the empty spaces between his own, as if their hands were meant to be linked the whole entire lifetime.

Happy times don’t last, and Jihoon knows it. There’s a sour taste that’s left in his mouth as he thinks of the past, of how they had held onto each others’ hands while standing under the plum blossom (their school was too cheap for cherry blossoms, anyway) and Woojin had pulled his hand up so that he could press a kiss to his knuckles. They were going to head to separate universities after all: Jihoon in Seoul and Woojin in Busan.

“We’re always going to be together,” Woojin whispered. “Mm?”

And Jihoon believes it.

“Yeah, we are.”

—

It’s several hours and a shitload more alcohol before they decide to call it a day. But before Jihoon can whip out his phone to call for a cab, Yoojung’s sliding her arm through Jihoon’s own, and she pulls him down slightly so that she can whisper into his ear.

“You know,” Yoojung begins. “You can talk to me if you need a listening ear.”

Jihoon knows what she’s talking about even without needing her to bring up the topic. From the corner of his eye, he can see the way Woojin’s talking to Mark and Jihoon tries to ignore the way his heart painfully clenches at the sight of his laughter, at the way the Snaggletooth TM peeks out from the corner of his mouth.

“Mm,” Jihoon nods, raising his other hand so that he can pat the younger’s hair. “I’ll be alright. Don’t worry too much.”

“Alright then,” Yoojung replies. She doesn’t sound entirely convinced. But then, she’s pulling back and she smiles at him—one of those genuine smiles that causes the sides of her eyes to crinkle together. “I’m really happy that you showed up today, though. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon muses. Nostalgic always hits in all the right places, and Jihoon waves at her. “I’ll see you around, Yoojung-ah.”

Yoojung smiles at him again, linking her hands behind her and then, she’s skipping over to Doyeon. Their hands find each others’ easily, and Jihoon wonders if this was how he and Woojin used to look like.

But they aren’t like that anymore.

The rest of his classmates slowly leave the venue of the restaurant and Jihoon finds himself fidgeting awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other and playing with the edges of his shirt. He doesn’t dare to look up, focusing on the granite on the floor. It’s far scarier to think of how things would play out if he were to look up: the way his eyes would naturally stray to find Woojin—and Jihoon doesn’t think that he’s ready to actually hold a conversation with Woojin.

But there’s a strong whiff of smoke that hits his nose and Jihoon frowns immediately, and he looks up to see who is the inconsiderate asshole that’s smoking so close to him.

And he finds his heart skipping a beat when he sees the way Woojin holds the cigarette, taking a long whiff from the lit stick and the way the smoke escapes from his lips. It’s a sight that Jihoon never quite thought that he’d see from Woojin, not from the way they would both scrunch their noses up every time they walked past some of those neighbourhood delinquents who loitered around convenience stores.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

The words come out easier than he thought, but Jihoon finds that meeting Woojin’s gaze still draws upon too much courage that he doesn’t fucking have and he holds a steely gaze to the nothingness in front of them, hoping that it comes across to Woojin that he’s just waiting for his fucking cab.

“Mm,” Woojin muses. “Well, people change.”

He’s pretty damn sure that Woojin isn’t doing it intentionally, but Jihoon can only read the crudeness of the bite of his words. Whatever potential of having small talk washes down the drain like a torrential rainstorm. Jihoon clenches his fists by his side. He hates the way his mind is being flooded with the memories of late night phone calls even though they’d spent the entire day together because there’s nothing that they cannot talk about, and there’s anything that they can talk about. But it’s different now and what remains is a torrent of awkwardness and stilted conversations.

It’s timely how his cab comes driving into the open space and maybe, Jihoon’s just a tad thankful.

“Well, there’s my ride,” Jihoon says. He doesn’t know if Woojin is listening but he figures, well, he’d just say it and god, fuck, it’s so fucking much for him to be able to do this, but he raises his hand to take a final glance of Woojin and he gives a smile. It’s not like they are ever going to meet each other again. It’s not like there’s going to be opportunities for Jihoon to be haunted by the memories that he’s been trying so hard to forget. “Bye—”

Woojinnie almost escapes, but Jihoon bites his tongue.

He doesn’t dare to look back at Woojin as he climbs into the cab.

—

It wasn’t that they didn’t try to make things work. They did.

But they were broke as fuck college students who were pinned down by the responsibilities of being able to assimilate into a social circle in college. Jihoon doesn’t know how things were like with Woojin, but he’d like to think that it was somewhat the same as what he was going through, from the content of the messages that they would send to each other.

They tried to meet up whenever they could, during important occasions like Jihoon’s birthday and Woojin’s birthday. They called each other every week. They texted each other every day.

Maybe it had always been inevitable: the way they drifted apart from each other. Suddenly, Jihoon didn’t know what he could talk to Woojin about. He wanted to share more about his new circle of friends: Jinyoung, Donghan and Hyeob, about his new part-time job and the way Minhyun-hyung would take care of everyone, about the smart exchange student from Taiwan who was a pleasure to work with in group projects—but Jihoon slowly finds himself holding his tongue.

It’s hard, Jihoon thinks, it’s really damn fucking hard to make things work when all he gets are “Mm”s in response, and Woojin starts falling asleep when they are on the phone and the daily text messages only come in days and then weeks and then—

They just aren’t them anymore.

—

God, Jihoon hates drinking so fucking much.

It’s a good thing that he still has some hangover drinks from the last time Donghan had come over to have a drink at his place. As much as Jihoon hates drinking, he isn’t exactly someone who’d say no to chicken and beer, and especially, if they were free. It’s the best combination that anyone can ask for and Donghan is always willing to oblige.

He gulps the bottled drink in a single go and god, maybe, a shower could help to make him feel better and feel like a decent human being before he’s rushing for the peak hour trains and rushing to work.

The entire duration that he spends before he gets to work is a blur to Jihoon: from slinking into the shower and having a cold shower (because he forgot to switch the heater on and Jihoon, oh Jihoon, is a lazy fucker who doesn’t like waiting), to getting a cup of hot latte from the Starbucks across the street to sinking into his seat in his cubicle.

It isn’t exactly what Jihoon had thought that he was going to end up working as. He liked animals and there was a part of him that really wanted to grow up and become a veterinarian but unfortunately, his grades hadn’t been stellar and here he is, having a regular office job, with 9-5 hours and counting on cheap pantry coffee to keep him awake because he just overspent from buying that stupid cup of Starbucks coffee that is barely even potent.

“Psst.”

“It’s too early for anything, Seongwoo-hyung,” Jihoon whines when he hears the familiar voice come from his side. When he turns around, Seongwoo’s looking at him with a shit-eating grin, an arm resting on the cubicle dividers.

“Wow, someone’s already in such a bad mood today,” Seongwoo teases. “Drank too much yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon groans. “So, what’s up, hyung?”

“Heard that we’re getting a new guy today,” Seongwoo grins.

It leads Jihoon to raise a single eyebrow. It’s already June, not exactly the time of the year where you’re expecting new hires to greet the office.

“At this time of the year?”

“Yeah,” Seongwoo nods. “He’s transferring from the Busan Office, apparently. Didn’t know that transfers still happen at this time of the year.”

Busan , huh. And maybe Jihoon is thinking too much. Yeah, he probably is. What are the chances that Park Woojin would appear in his life again, after not seeing each other for so many years? Jihoon doesn’t think that he’s that great at maths, but he’s pretty damn sure that the probabilities are low.

Before Jihoon can say anything, there’s a clap that captures their attention and both Jihoon and Seongwoo turn to look at Boa.

And well—

Fuck probabilities.

Jihoon thinks that he could recognise that silhouette from anywhere in the world, no matter how dark it may be, no matter how far away it may be.

“This is Park Woojin, who’s transferring to the Seoul office from the Busan office from today. Please take care of him.”

Woojin takes a bow at the same time he says, “Please take care of me.”

God.

Jihoon wants to fucking dig the deepest hole he can and bury himself in it.

He’s not quite sure what’s making him cry internally: the fact that Park Woojin is sauntering back into his life after he thought that he could somewhat completely forget about him, or the fact that Woojin does look fucking good in a suit: dark jacket and dress pants, and white shirt. It’s like whatever feelings that he had were merely repressed and waiting for the time that it could resurface again—and it does so in quiet stutters and beats against his chest.

“Fuck everything,” Jihoon mutters under his breath.

“Hm?” Seongwoo raises an eyebrow. “That’s an awfully strong reaction when it comes to meeting someone new in the office.”

Jihoon looks past his bangs to give Seongwoo the stink-eye. “Well, it’s my uh ex? Childhood friend? And we drifted apart since high school, and suddenly, he’s back in my life again?”

“Oh,” Seongwoo says. “Well then, good luck.”

Yeah.

Jihoon definitely needs the luck.

Hours pass and there are two different sets of news that Jihoon has. The good news is that Park Woojin isn’t in the same department as he is. He’s actually in the Tech department (and it’s something that Jihoon has never associated him with.)

And now, the bad news is that Park Woojin is currently in the pantry, staring holes at the coffee machine as if it could help him to figure out how to use the damn machine. And Jihoon could have easily ignored him, minded his business, moved on with his life if it weren’t for the fact that he too, really needs his second cup of coffee.

God, he really needs his coffee—and it’s what that pushes Jihoon to take a huge exhale before walking up to Woojin, and he takes the coffee capsule from the side and places it at the side of the machine.

“That’s how you do it,” Jihoon says, plainly. He doesn’t look up from where he’s staring at the coffee machine

“Oh, thanks,” Woojin replies.

Jihoon wonders if this has what they have become: awkward one-lined conversations. He listens to the way the coffee drips out from the machine, slowly but surely. And it surprises him when Woojin’s voice is loud and thick from beside him.

“I didn’t know that you worked here.”

Huh. Awkward small talk time. Yeah, he can do that. It does beat awkward silences, after all.

“Yeah,” Jihoon continues, scratching at the back of his head. A part of Jihoon wonders if Woojin can still read like the way he used to be better at recognising Jihoon’s emotions than Jihoon himself. “Turns out that I didn’t quite have a flair in whatever I studied in university.”

Jihoon never knew that he missed Woojin’s chuckle so much till now.

“Well, that must have sucked.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jihoon sighs. He can see the way reactions would have unfolded when they were younger: a pout from Jihoon that leads to Woojin snorting, and pinching his cheeks. But it’s not happening anymore. “It was pretty bad.”

“Mm,” Woojin muses, shuffling to the side now that his cup of coffee is done. “Coffee for you too?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon nods. He doesn’t need to look to know where the capsules are and he places the capsules into the machine like he did before.

“I didn’t know you drank coffee.”

Jihoon remembers. He remembers all the times that they spend together, as if they just happened yesterday. And maybe, his heart had just done a little flip, from the way Woojin speaks, from the way it sounds like he still remembers everything from the past.

Looking up from the coffee machine so that he can look straight into Woojin’s eyes, Jihoon lets the side of his lips tug upwards, and maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright.

“Well, people change.”

And there’s that sparkle in Woojin’s eyes and Woojin’s laughing and then Jihoon’s laughing too and whatever awkwardness that was between them dissipates and it makes Jihoon think that things are almost just like how they used to be.

—

It’s strange how easily they get back into the rhythm that Jihoon would call uniquely theirs.

They don’t exactly decide on a common time to meet, but Jihoon finds Woojin trailing into the pantry not longer after he decides that he needs more coffee (ok, and maybe, he should really drink more water instead of relying on caffeine; Woojin has been nagging at him, after all.) And they have lunch together, at the hearty restaurant that’s not too far away from the office. And they trade phone numbers so they text outside of office hours, about the stupidest shit that only Woojin would be able to think of.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“God, no,” Jihoon groans, quickly tapping a reply to Woojin before sliding his phone back into his back pockets. And he knows Jinyoung long enough to know what he’s trying to suggest and god, there’s no way that they are dating. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Right,” Jinyoung snorts. “And I’m not dating Daehwi.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Have you not seen yourself?” Jinyoung rolls his eyes, stabbing into his steak for an added emphasis. “You’ve been smiling at your phone for the whole time, right in front of my salad.”

“You hate salads,” Jihoon points out.

“That’s not the point,” Jinyoung groans with a sigh. “I haven’t seen you smile like this . Ever.”

And it makes Jihoon’s heart do that little stutter all over again. It’s something that he doesn’t want to admit—the very fact that Park Woojin’s every action makes him feel like he’s back in high school all over again, with sneaky glances at each other and holding pinkies rather than hands, because the both of them are too shy.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing though,” Jinyoung pipes out after he places a piece of beef into his mouth. “I mean, you guys may have had a rocky relationship after high school. But doesn’t it feel like something had made you two meet each other? Like it’s fate weaving its’ threads, so that the two of you can have another chance together.”

“Chance, huh.”

Chances are rare, and it’s all about being able to grasp the right opportunity. Jihoon doesn’t like chances. Chances are terrifying, from the very fact that they are rare; and it’s almost like you’re letting something good slip past your fingertips when you have the ability to grab tight onto it.

“Think about it. What are the odds that you’d end up working in the same company again after so many years? Heck, you guys aren’t even working in the same department; you could have gone into different industries!”

“Mm,” Jihoon muses. Jinyoung does have a point.

But here’s the catch: if it didn’t work the first time, then, would things fix itself again? The pace in which he and Woojin had gotten back to know each other was incredibly fast, and it almost feels like they are both applying super glue to reattach the broken pieces together without actually fixing the actual problems between them.

Jihoon isn’t a heroine in a romcom drama series or whatsoever. He isn’t this naive to believe in the chances that are carelessly melded together.

“Just go for it.”

But Jihoon thinks that Jinyoung’s words do have a point, and while they were kids back then, they are both jaded adults right now—and maybe, just maybe, things will be different.

—

“Jihoon, do you have a moment?”

When Jihoon looks up from his desktop (where he had been trying to pretend that he has work to do, but actually, he doesn’t but Park Jihoon isn’t someone who actively finds work to do so he can indulge in laziness for a heartbeat longer.), Boa is standing in front of his desk and it causes Jihoon to jump back.

From Jihoon’s memory, he doesn’t remember Boa ever looking for him. But he’s more surprised by the fact that she actually knows his name, considering how he isn’t exactly someone who stands out (despite being good friends with Seongwoo).

“Y-yes,” Jihoon hastily pushes his chair back so that he can stand up. “How can I help you, sunbaenim?”

“Well, we’re going to have a rather huge product launch in Busan at the end of the month and we’re expecting that we’d need more manpower than initially expected. So, we were thinking if we could send some of Seoul branch people over to Busan, including you, to handle the event.”

“Wait, what, me ?” Jihoon’s eyes widen and he points to himself. “But there are other peo—”

“Yeah,” Boa nods with a smile. “Management sees how effectively and efficiently you’re able to allocate resources and people around, and we figured that you’d be a great fit for the task. It’s going to be a good opportunity for you to develop, and to step out of your comfort zone too.”

As Jihoon takes time to take in the information, he feels his cheeks reddening from the praises that are littered in Boa’s words. It’s not every day that he gets complimented like this, and it does feel nice, and it makes his heart grow warm. A surge of confidence wells up within him and yeah, Jihoon figures that he could take up the opportunity.

“Alright,” Jihoon nods. “I’ll head down to Busan then.”

“That’s great,” Boa smiles back gently, extending an arm so that she can pat his shoulder. “I’ll send you more details about the event when we’ve received the information.”

“Alright,” Jihoon says. As Boa looks like she’s about to leave, Jihoon makes sure to bow and add, “Thank you for the opportunity, sunbaenim.”

“No problem.”

—

“So, you’re headed to Busan too?” Woojin pipes up when they’re having lunch in the restaurant across their office.

Jihoon promptly chokes on his spoonful of sundubu jjigae. “How did you know that?”

“You can’t hide anything from me, doofus,” Woojin grins back. He places both his hands up so that he can rest his chin on the back of his hand. “Guess what?”

Taking a huge slurp of the soup, there’s something in the twinkle of Woojin’s eyes that give Jihoon a rough idea of what Woojin has to say. “You’re coming to Busan too, aren’t you?”

“As expected from the Lesser Park! Not bad.”

“Who said I’m the Lesser Park,” Jihoon hisses, reaching forward to flick Woojin’s forehead.

Woojin snorts. “You’ve always been the Lesser Park, ever since you kept losing to me in all those games in high school.”

“Excuse me,” Jihoon huffs. “I always beat your sorry ass in Mario Kart.”

“It’s only Mario Kart, dumb,” Woojin replies while trying to sneakily place some of the spring onions over to Jihoon’s bowl of noodles—until Jihoon discovers it and starts to swat at Woojin’s hands.

“Eat your vegetables, dumb,” Jihoon frowns, but he picks up whatever spring onions that Woojin managed to place on his bowl, anyway. It’s one of the few parts of Woojin that hadn’t changed: his strong distaste for spring onions, and Jihoon had always been the one to eat them all for him. “So, you’re going to Busan too?”

“Yeah,” Woojin nods. “I was originally from there too so they figured that I could be a good liaison.”

“Mm,” Jihoon hums.

“Anyway, I was thinking—” Woojin begins, but he pauses in his sentence and Jihoon watches the way he plays with the edges of his sleeves, as if it could help to distract him from whatever he wants to say. “—Do you perhaps want to go on a small road trip together?”

“S—” Jihoon almost says the okay before he realises exactly what Woojin had suggested. “A road trip?”

“Yeah.” It’s a strange look, so see Woojin like this: looking down, playing with the hems of his sleeves and gaze flitting from side to side. Jihoon vaguely remembers the last time he’s seen Woojin like this, and it was when he had asked Jihoon out. “Didn’t we say that to go on a road trip together when we’re in college?”

Oh. Jihoon remembers that promise.

It was one of those nights that they snuck back into school so they could sneak onto the rooftop. Jihoon would lay down on Woojin’s arm as they looked up at the dark skies, in hopes that they’d be able to see some stars (or maybe, some satellites). They talked about what they wanted to do in the future and Woojin said that he wanted to learn how to drive, and Jihoon said: “Okay, then, let’s go on a road trip together, after we get to college.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jihoon nods. Memories bring together a sour taste in Jihoon’s mouth. A strong reminder of the promises of togetherness that they made, but they failed to commit to it. “Shall we go before or after the event then?”

“After?” Woojin looks up from where he’d been staring holes into his soup bowl to raise an eyebrow. “Less work for us to worry about if we went after.”

“Mm, yeah,” Jihoon nods. “Let’s go then.”

And there’s a look in Woojin’s eyes that Jihoon finds that he doesn’t have the words to describe.

“Let’s go.”

—

The event goes smoothly, but what makes Jihoon nervous hadn’t been so much the event, but what was to come after the event.

Woojin had said that he’d plan the route for their road trip that’d begin from Busan and end back in Seoul, so Jihoon could take it easy and simply focus on the event. While Jihoon does trust in Woojin’s taste, there was something about going on the road trip together with Woojin, someone who he hadn’t seen in such a long time, that was making him nervous.

jinyoung: good luck for your date, hyung!
Jihoon: god i’m so fucking nervous
jinyoung: don’t be lmao
jinyoung: i’m sure it’ll be fine

It’s timely how Woojin knocks at his hotel door and it makes Jihoon jump back slightly before he goes, “Coming!”

When he opens the door, Woojin’s playing with his bangs. “Ready to go?”

“Mm,” Jihoon nods, grabbing the two bags that he decided to bring along instead of a luggage. “Let’s go, Lesser Park.”

It’s awkward, really, Jihoon discovers.

He knows that he and Woojin had history between them, but even as they started to get back on the path of becoming friends again, they hadn’t quite fixed whatever problems there were between them and the lines that separated friendship and relationship had become increasingly blurry.

And Jihoon wonders if he should bring up the topic of what they are. It’s hard not for Jihoon to swallow his saliva awkwardly, not when he had stepped out of the hotel and had been greeted by an entire camping car, and the decorations inside the camping car was pretty much fucking gorgeous. It almost feels like they are back together, that Woojin had prepared the road trip the same way he’d prepare it for a lover—and Jihoon feels like he doesn’t fucking deserve this, not when he isn’t even sure what they are.

Woojin parks the car at a parking lot by Haeundae. Sunny beaches aren’t exactly Jihoon’s thing, but it’s the must-come when anyone is at Busan after all. And Jihoon sees the way Woojin basks  in the salty breeze and warm sunshine, and the way he looks absolutely at home here and Jihoon finds that he’s incapable of saying anything and he simply focuses on the way Woojin has his arm spread open, sunglasses dropping down to cover his eyes.

They get some pretty damn good seafood for dinner and Jihoon relishes in the way the fresh oysters melt in his mouth. They also pick up some groceries at the nearby supermarket (that Woojin promises it’s cheaper than the others. Jihoon doesn’t really care.) just in case either of them gets hungry. They also pick up some flavoured beer because Jihoon’s a lightweight and he doesn’t quite like the taste of soju.

“So where are we headed to now?” Jihoon muses.

It’s still a little early. The hour hand has barely reached the 10 numeral and as Jihoon looks out from the window, he can see how the seaside trees are rustling and moving in tune to the wind. And he presses down on the button by the side of his seat so that he can stick his head out and he lets the humid summer wind brush against his cheeks.

“Secret,” Woojin replies.

“Secret, huh,” Jihoon says. He doesn’t turn back to look at Woojin. Instead, he looks straight ahead, trying to decipher where they could possibly be going.

“Mmhmm,” Woojin nods. “But I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Okay.”

Jihoon lets his eyes close.

Jihoon’s not quite sure how much time has passed. He only registers Woojin’s hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake and then, he’s being pulled out of the car and when he registers his surroundings, he’s in a grass plain in the middle of fucking nowhere and it’s pretty damn dark but the skies are bright and Jihoon can see all the stars in the night sky in a way that he can’t ever get to see them back in Seoul.

It’s a scene that he wishes he could take a photo of but he knows that they can’t be captured by his shitty phone camera. So he pretends that his eyes are lenses to a camera, and he captures with his eyes and saves it to his heart.

“Wow.”

“Glad you like it.”

“I didn’t think you had this in you,” Jihoon laughs softly. He doesn’t shift his gaze, but he squeezes their interlocked hands and he hopes that it conveys his gratitude.

“You have so little faith in me!” Woojin huffs, but he returns the squeeze and Jihoon smiles.

“Thank you.”

Then, they set up camp here for the night and they pull out some foldable chairs so they can sit in the open field with instant noodles made inside the camping car. It’s the spicy Korean noodles that Jihoon likes and Woojin doesn’t. It’s pretty nice, to be able to eat instant ramen while looking at the stars and there’s just something about the whole atmosphere that makes Jihoon feel like he should mention, and bring up whatever that’s been bothering him about Woojin and Jihoon.

“Hey,” Jihoon whispers.

“Hey yourself,” Woojin whispers back.

“I was just wondering—”

“About?”

“—what we are,” Jihoon continues. He can feel Woojin’s gaze on him and it makes it hard for him to be able to talk while maintaining eye contact. There’s just something about Woojin’s gaze that makes it come across to be piercing and intimidating; that it’s almost like Woojin can see through whatever he’s thinking, and he’s going to be able to see through what he’s being truthful about. “We hadn’t quite talked about what happened between us, you know, and I think we ought to.”

“Mm, yes,” Woojin nods. “We should.”

“I guess it’s just the fact that we both didn’t put in as much effort as we should have into the relationship after we entered college,” Jihoon suggests.

“Yeah,” Woojin agrees. “And I guess, it’s the fact we both had our own obligations to fulfill and we couldn’t handle both of them at the same time.”

“Mm,” Jihoon nods.

It’s something that they both knew: the fact that neither of them had put in 100% effort and you need the constant hard work to be put in in order to ensure that a relationship, much more a long-distance relationship works out. Perhaps, it’s the fact that they’re both talking about it, vocalising it and accepting the fact that it happened that makes it feel different, and that they are no longer like the children that they used to be.

“What do you think we are now, Woojin-ah.”

When Woojin doesn’t answer immediately, Jihoon turns to look at him. Woojin’s looking down at the ground, playing with his fingers. He wonders if he had said the wrong thing, but then Woojin’s looking up and he meets his eyes at the same time he says, “I don’t know.”

Neither of them bring up the question of what the are again.

The both of them carry on with their road trip, moving on to other cities like Jinju and Hadong. They are all places that Jihoon never quite expected to go before, but it’s a different experience when he’s with Woojin.

It almost feels like Woojin is trying to win him over, from the way he gets the food for Jihoon, to the way he opens the doors when they enter a cafe. It feels nice, it really does, but there’s just something about it that makes Jihoon’s stomach squelch uncomfortably, like his mind is telling him that it can’t decide whether or not Woojin means something more than special to him.

Communication is important, but it’s hard when neither of them can find the right words to say and to define them.

It’s in Daejeon where the thoughts suddenly pervade Jihoon’s mind and he asks, “Do you mind if we could spend today separately?”

By now, they are already more than halfway through their journey. It’s five days since they’ve left Busan and there are three more days before they’re headed back to Seoul. Companionship is nice but Jihoon thinks that he needs some alone time, some time to be with his thoughts, instead of being with Woojin. It’s not that being with Woojin is necessarily bad, but it’s been five days (and more, if you include the event), and Jihoon thinks that he needs alone time .

Woojin turns to his side for a second. He purses his lips together, as if thinking if he should say the words. Jihoon watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs once, “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Jihoon settles in a cafe in the central area of the city. It’s a nice small cafe with a rustic charm made of wooden furniture and marbled potted plants. He orders a hot latte, settles at one of the long, high tables that face the road. It’s crowded, but it isn’t anything like the crowds back in Seoul and Jihoon takes the time to simply look out of the window, watch the people while sipping his cup of coffee.

It’s quiet time, and it’s the perfect time for him to be alone with his thoughts.

He thinks about many things, but there’s only one thing that pervades his thoughts: Park Woojin.

He doesn’t know where to start, and neither does he know where to end. While Jihoon thinks that he could settle with the status quo, with the blurry lines that define them but there’s something within them that holds him back, that tells him that he isn’t quite ready for more and what he’s searching for right now isn’t a relationship but friendship in its purest forms—and it’s that sort of genuine friendship that he thinks that he can only find with Woojin.

When he gets back to the camping car in the night, he clenches his fists at his sides. It’s going to be hard to find the words, but he thinks that he’s got to be the one to bring it up.

—

The thing about life is that things don't always work out, even though they look like they are.

"Do you mind?" Woojin suddenly asks as the car turns into the tollgates and there's a pretty long queue before it's going to be their turn. Jihoon looks to the side from where he's been texting Jinyoung on his phone and there's a cigarette box and lighter on Woojin's thigh.

"Nope, it's fine," Jihoon says. He doesn't really appreciate the smell of smoke but it doesn't feel like it's something that he can tell Woojin no to.

Not when he brought it up last night.

"We're going to be best friends, still, aren't we?" Woojin asks after taking a long drag of his cigarette.

When Jihoon looks up from where he’s been looking at the edges of the worn-out car seats, Woojin isn’t looking at him. Perhaps, there’s some sort of relief that washes over him at that. Jihoon swallows the lump in his throat. It almost feels like he's choking from the awful emotions that threaten to swallow him whole: of the guilt and sadness that is brought together with rejection. When he looks up, he stares straight at the setting sun that goes beyond them, beyond the tollgates, and beyond the horizons. All good things come to an end, so that new beginnings can start.

"Don't even think otherwise, Lesser Park."