Chapter Text
Anyone who says ex-lovers can remain friends has obviously never met Minhyuk and his ex-lover Yoo Kihyun.
It’s always a bit ironic how people who’ve met before meet again. In Minhyuk’s case, it feels a lot like a prank when he meets Kihyun again, one where he is in the centre of said joke.
Changkyun’s getting married. They get invitations to attend his wedding, a small personalised note to each of them, undeniably in Changkyun’s handwriting, still scrawny and like scratches instead of words.
Minhyuk’s reads: Really hope you can make it; can’t wait to see you after so many years, hyung! Let me know if you’re bringing a plus one. Doesn’t matter if you don’t. I know you worry. Don’t. Just come, and be happy for me. Love you.
It brings a smile to Minhyuk’s lips when he picks it up from his mailbox after an extremely trying day at work. The muscles in his shoulder have managed to knot themselves up, but the invitation comes along like a refreshing breeze of air, and Minhyuk feels himself relax.
He pulls out his phone and plops himself onto his sofa, scrolling through his conversations on KakaoTalk. There are not many of them, but even then Minhyuk has to spend a good two minutes finding his chat with Changkyun.
His unconscious smile dims a little at how infrequently they keep in contact, but Minhyuk dismisses the thought as soon as it materialises in his mind.
Minhyuk: hey
Minhyuk: got ur invite
Minhyuk: congrats
Minhyuk: i mean the last time i saw u was ages ago
Minhyuk: but ive been very emotionally invested in ur r/ship based on just your instagram posts
Minhyuk: shes beautiful
Minhyuk: and you guys will be happy together
Minhyuk waits by the phone, staring a little blankly at the 1 next to his messages, and tries his best to not overthink. It’s proving to be difficult, because it’s the most natural thing Minhyuk’s mind goes to despite the fact that work has depleted most of his energy.
He decides he should stop staring at it and throws it carelessly on the sofa before waddling away to put his briefcase away as he tugs on his tie.
Oh, he’s forgotten to tell Changkyun that he’s going. Walking back to his phone, Minhyuk runs a hand through his hair and wonders how early in advance he should put his leave notice through HR.
When he picks it up, the 1 has transformed into a 0, and there are new messages from Changkyun.
Changkyun: hey hyung
Changkyun: i almost couldnt tell it was u, why do u keep changing profile pictures alsdjlask
Changkyun: anyways
Changkyun: thank u so much u have no idea how muc h it means to me
Changkyun: for u to say that
Changkyun: i kno we dont talk much now bc life amirite
Changkyun: but i hope uve been doing well
Changkyun: also is this ur rsvp or
Minhyuk feels the ends of his lips pull up again, all his previous worries about Changkyun not replying dissipated completely. He doesn’t really know what he was worrying about -- surely Changkyun wouldn’t have sent a personalised wedding invitation to his address if he wasn’t going to speak to him.
He picks the phone back up, briefcase forgotten on his sofa again, and his thumbs fly across the screen.
Minhyuk: yes im going
Minhyuk: wouldnt miss it for the world
Minhyuk: also, jeju??? ugh it’s going to be beautiful
Minhyuk: i’m so glad :)
Minhyuk: before u ask i’ll probably not bring a +1
Minhyuk: is it ok if i let u kno a little later though?
He runs through the limited list of close friends he has that Changkyun doesn’t already know, and his mind draws a blank. Maybe he considers that guy he went out on a Tinder dinner date with two weeks ago, but since Minhyuk didn’t bother replying to his messages after their night of passion, it seems a little exploitative to talk to him again just to ask him to attend a wedding with him.
And what for? Minhyuk is comfortable with his singlehood, though he’s certain some of his other friends that Changkyun invites would have something to say. Specifically Hoseok, but Hoseok cares a lot for him as a hyung and believes in romance and bullshit like that, so it’s not much. He’d rather deal with Hoseok’s nagging than an awkward five-day trip with One Night Stand — what was his name again?
Changkyun: ofc thats ok
Changkyun: and oh
Changkyun: i really dont want this to be awkward
Changkyun: but its probably better for u to kno in advance
Changkyun: uh kihyun hyung is goign to be there
Changkyun: he jus rsvped to say hes going
Minhyuk stills. He’s not heard that name for ages, even if there is a yellowing photo where he and said man are in, hiding behind one of his graduation pictures hung on the wall.
Minhyuk: oh
As an afterthought, he adds.
Minhyuk: thats cool
It takes all he has in him to not ask Changkyun if Kihyun is bringing a plus one. And then promptly change his mind and say he’ll be bringing someone after all.
The last thing he wants Changkyun to think is that he still harbours feelings for Kihyun inappropriate for a friendship.
Minhyuk: jus came back from work
Minhyuk: I’m going for a shower
Minhyuk: hope we can talk soon
Minhyuk: closer to the wedding
Minhyuk: cant wait to see u!!!
Minhyuk: love u
He holds his phone in his left hand and picks up his briefcase in his right, walking towards his empty room in the darkness, because it’s late and he’s tired and he doesn’t really care about turning on the lights right now.
The phone vibrates in his left hand and he looks at the screen.
Changkyun: thanks hyung
Changkyun: love u <3
Minhyuk graces a smile on his lips, but even he has to admit it’s slightly forced, whatnot with the rush of emotions brought about by the knowledge that he’ll be seeing Kihyun again.
As he stares blankly at the phone, Minhyuk feels a sharp pang in his heart, remembering the same message bubble in his KakaoTalk, only from a different recipient -- a recipient that mattered -- and from a different time.
Seven years is a long time, and so many things have changed, but as Minhyuk sits himself on the edge of his bed, he wonders why it is that the world has transformed drastically, but the one constant is the dull ache in his heart whenever someone mentions Kihyun.
He takes an exceedingly long shower pondering the what if’s that he’s never been able to answer for seven years, and finds that he’s nowhere closer to the answer seven years later.
*****
“Minhyuk!” Hoseok’s voice is bright and cheerful and puts a smile on his face. Minhyuk sandwiches the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he responses with equal enthusiasm.
“Hyung! How are you?” He pours black coffee into his mug and reaches for the milk, but not before seeing his own reflection in the dark liquid, remembering that no milk, no sugar was Kihyun’s favourite.
Ever since his conversation with Changkyun, Minhyuk finds himself thinking about Kihyun at the most inconvenient times, though he would say that any time spent thinking of Kihyun is an inconvenient time.
Hoseok’s voice chirps over the device, his elation unbridled and his laughter full and hearty. Minhyuk sighs. He’s missed Hoseok. Missed high school. Missed his friends that he barely sees anymore.
He almost spills the milk, but catches himself before it slips.
Two sugars. Kihyun always told him that it was going to make him really fat. Minhyuk always told him his coffee was just sweet like him, unlike the constantly bitter Kihyun.
Kihyun always huffed and muttered something about never winning with Minhyuk.
But he did, didn’t he, in the end? He won in the only fight that mattered, and left Minhyuk in shreds.
If you asked Minhyuk in his weaker moments, he’d say that he’d rather let Kihyun win every single one of their menial arguments if it meant that he was going to come out of it in the end unscathed. But of course things don’t work that way, and Minhyuk is no longer the soft and fragile boy from seven years ago.
A lot has changed, and Minhyuk hopes he has, too.
“Are you even listening to me?” He can hear the pout in Hoseok’s voice, and he laughs. “This is payback for all the times you intentionally ignored me in high school when I talked.”
Hoseok chuckles. “Yeah, okay, you constantly shared unimportant details and gossip with me and like, 15-year-old Shin Hoseok really doesn’t care.”
Minhyuk chortles. “Hey! I liked talking; it’s not my fault all of you are so mind-numbingly boring.”
He tries not to think of Kihyun being the only exception, but he thinks it anyway.
Mirth in his voice. Hoseok had always been a sentimental boy, evolving into as an equally emotional man, the only difference being that he became growingly open with expressing said feelings. Minhyuk likes Hoseok’s change. It’s healthier for him.
“You were such a chatterbox. I used to wonder how you never seemed to tire from talking.” Minhyuk chuckles. “So much talking,” Hoseok teases, “I wonder when it was that you suddenly became so quiet.”
A moment’s silence, and he hears Hoseok breathing a shit under his breath. He laughs, a little shakier this time, and the mug trembles in his hold.
“It’s okay, hyung. It’s been, what, seven years? It’s not a big deal anymore, you know?”
He hears the hesitance in Hoseok’s voice, but the older man breaks into a strained laugh anyway. “Yeah. Yeah? That’s good to hear.”
Minhyuk smiles. It was never his intention to worry Hoseok, or anyone, for that matter, and he repeats what he’s just said to himself, and tries to believe it. It’s not a big deal. It’s just Kihyun.
More silence. “Hey, um, you’re going to Changkyun’s wedding, right?” Hoseok finally pipes up, and Minhyuk is thankful for the question.
“Of course! He would have my head if I didn’t go. Look at him, the youngest one in our group, getting married first.”
Hoseok bubbles with laughter. “I mean, Hyunwoo has been dating his girlfriend for ages; it’s only a matter of time. And Jooheon. Well, Jooheon will always be Jooheon, yeah?”
Minhyuk nods as he hums in agreement. The second youngest in their clique of seven was always a bit of a wild one. That and he scoffed at the notion of romance, so marriage was never for folk like him.
“Plus, he seems to be dishing out some good tracks lately. Don’t think he even has time to date, all holed up in his studio and stuff.” Hoseok adds, and Minhyuk agrees again.
“You?” Minhyuk asks with half a mouthful of coffee, Hoseok replying with fervour. “Of course! I just don’t know what to buy for a wedding gift. Do you have any ideas?” Hoseok groans at the thought of having to prepare something, and Minhyuk guffaws.
“I work in an advertising agency; all I have are ideas that no one wants to make a reality.”
Hoseok ooo s and Minhyuk laughs. “Throwing shade on your company, I see.”
Minhyuk sighs. “Still gotta earn my keep.”
Hoseok sniffs and says “true, true”. The conversation goes back and forth with some mindless chatter, and Minhyuk appreciates the distraction. It’s easy to delve straight into Hoseok’s problems from work and his new boyfriend who seems a little too stoic. Minhyuk stops him in time when he says “he’s not very romantic, but boy, does he fuck good”.
Minhyuk gives a lot of decent advice for someone who’s incapable of acting on his own suggestions, but he hopes it helps Hoseok out even just a little bit.
His mug is completely drained of coffee and he leans by his kitchen counter. He looks up at the clock. 11:30 AM on a Saturday. At least Hoseok’s wasted a lot of his time.
Less time alone means less time being stuck in the little cage that is his mind, where recent thoughts spiral around a short brunette with dimples on the tips of his cheeks.
“Hey, I think I should go,” Hoseok says as there is a rustling on his end, and Minhyuk stands back up straight. “Yeah, of course, you must be busy.”
A grin in his voice. “Yeah, he’s bringing me out for a date.” He can hear the excitement in his words, and a smile finds itself on his face.
“And I thought you said he wasn’t romantic,” Minhyuk jokes, and Hoseok’s pitch rises as he gives a very passionate rap rendition of how he literally threw out the ultimatum and got him to plan a date this Saturday or else.
Minhyuk laughs. “Sounds both murderous and fun.”
Hoseok chuckles. “Only you would put those two words beside each other and think it’s okay.”
A guffaw. Minhyuk loves Hoseok, so much, and wonders if things would have been easier if it had been Hoseok all along.
Too many unwanted thoughts, and instead of a stroll, Minhyuk paces along memory lane, stuck in a cycle of reminiscing the old days with what ifs that he remembers he cannot answer.
“Have fun, hyung. Can’t wait to see you soon.”
Hoseok is kind. “Hey. Hold on tight alright? Love you.”
Minhyuk hangs up, and he’s not typically a day-drinker, but the way Hoseok had told him to hold on had punctured a little hole in his chest, and the only way he knows how to fill it up is with a glass of wine.
It’s not like he has plans this Saturday anyway.
*****
It is about a month before the wedding when Minhyuk receives a call from Hyungwon, the name familiar, but its appearance on his screen is foreign. He’s just picking up some groceries on the way home from work when his phone buzzes.
“Hello?” Minhyuk is filled with uncertainty as he picks it up, his voice masking none of it.
“Hey. Hey, Minhyuk. How you doing?”
He remembers his voice now, a medium-pitched voice with a pinch of a nasal tone. He laughs, lightly. Hyungwon had been one of his closest friends in high school, but now that the man has opened a very successful travel agency that’s just opened a branch in the shopping centre he’s in right now, he feels a little intimidated.
It’s just how Minhyuk is, generally. Intimidated by overly capable people. It’s something he’s worked on for years to no avail.
“I’m good. How are you, CEO Chae?”
He hears the embarrassment on the line. “Stop calling me that, it’s dumb.”
Minhyuk chuckles, but doesn’t push. It has been so many years after all. While the old Minhyuk would’ve taken the joke and did several runs with it, he knows they’re all grown up now. Sensible adults without the same keen sense of humour, and Minhyuk didn’t want to offend.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Hyungwon laughs. “You don’t sound happy to hear from me.”
Minhyuk stills, the basket in his hand swinging. Damn. Was that the wrong thing to say?
“Hah, why would you think that?” He fails miserably at playing it cool, but if Hyungwon knew, he didn’t choose to say anything about it. There is a shuffle of papers on his end, and Minhyuk continues to stare mindlessly at rows of toilet paper.
“So, Changkyun’s wedding. In a month. You’re going, right?”
Minhyuk hums. “What kind of friend would I be if even the ever-so-flaky Chae Hyungwon turns up, and I didn’t?”
Shit. Minhyuk didn’t realise that he was slipping back into comfort with Hyungwon. They had been such good friends, after all, and it was proving to be a challenge to not hurl playful insults at him every other minute.
He realises he’s worrying too much again when Hyungwon laughs. “Oh, yeah. That was a thing, wasn’t it?”
Minhyuk relaxes, and pulls a pack of toilet paper into his basket. “Yeah. You never did turn up for our breakfast meetings.”
“That’s because no one should be awake at 9AM for breakfast. No one should be awake at 9AM, period,” Hyungwon drawls, and Minhyuk can see it now, the deadpan expression on his face. Maybe not so much has changed after all.
“Anyway.”
“Anyway.” Minhyuk says, walking over to the body soap and compares prices.
“We’re throwing Changkyun a bachelor’s party,” Hyungwon says, and there is the sound of a pen scribbling. “And you’re joining.”
Minhyuk presses his lips together, the ends pulling down slightly. “I didn’t know I agreed to this.”
Hyungwon laughs. “That’s because you didn’t -- I volunteered you. You were the guy who knew how to have the most fun in high school. Would have been a pity if we couldn’t get you to come. Besides. Changkyun now works for me, so I know a lot of his friends and colleagues and everyone’s coming. Well, everyone who has a penis is coming, that is.”
Minhyuk pretends to barf as Hyungwon guffaws. He’s just about to confirm his attendance when he realises what he’s just said. “So. Everyone from high school is coming?”
“Minhyuk, I’m not an idiot. Obviously not the whole school is coming.”
“But his close friends?” He’s swallowing hard now. His throat is dry.
Hyungwon sounds busy, and slightly frustrated, because he didn’t remember Minhyuk to be such an airhead. “Look, that’s the whole point of a bachelor’s party, yes, all his close friends from high school are coming. That means all six of us, and that nerdy boy he made friends with in Chemistry or something. What’s this ab --”
Silence. The same kind that he’d experienced with Hoseok, only the older man caught on quicker than Hyungwon. “Oh.” Was the only consolation he offered.
“Is it -- are you --”
Minhyuk laughs, breathy. He’s managed to bury himself into an insane amount of workload over the past week and had made great progress with distracting himself from thoughts of Kihyun.
But Hyungwon. Fucking Chae Hyungwon. Trust him to call at this ungodly time and wash all his efforts down the pipe.
“It’s been seven years, Hyungwon. It’s not a big deal. I’m okay. I just. Haven’t seen all of you in a while. I just wanted to know.”
Hyungwon sniffs on the other end. Crap, now he’s made this awkward. But if there’s anyone who can cut through a thick fog of tension, it’s Hyungwon, with his razor-like responses.
“Okay, if you’re sure. So look, about the party right…”
And Minhyuk continues with the conversation, grateful for the distraction, even if Hyungwon had been the one to bring him up in the first place.
Even if he’s going to be seeing Kihyun a lot earlier than he’d mentally prepared himself for.
Even if the wound he’s protected with a bandage for seven years finds itself exposed. It’s like he’s picking on his old scab, fresh, piercing pain coming back in waves, like the snowball effect of not having felt it for so many years.
Minhyuk feeds himself more glasses of wine even though he has work tomorrow. It’s the only way he remembers how to fill up the gaping hole in his chest. But he doesn’t cry.
*****
He does almost cry when he realises that he’s forgotten to pack his shaver into his luggage, and he’s already on the taxi on the way to the airport.
He could buy another in Jeju, but his expensive electric shaver did shaves like no other, and he is a lost man without it. He’s thinking about actually going back to get it, because he is Lee Minhyuk, and Lee Minhyuk is a ridiculous man, but Hyungwon is sending more and more texts, telling him that they’re all there.
Minhyuk is so worried about his shaver and not finding a good enough one and turning up in Changkyun’s pictures looking like a licensed hobo, when he realises, ten steps into the airport, that he’s going to be seeing Kihyun.
Fuck. How did he forget? He’s mastered the art of distracting himself way too well that he’s managed to keep his thoughts at bay. Until now. Until now, when all of the worry and anxiety comes crashing down, and to make things worse, he didn’t have his favourite shaver.
This is proving to be the worst day of his life.
He almost doesn’t find the group, but as he makes his way to the gate hurriedly (Hyungwon is still blowing up his damn phone), he makes out his friends, who look pretty much the same.
Hyungwon is still the tallest, a mop of brown on his tiny head. Hyunwoo hyung is about his height, his shoulders wider than the Pacific Ocean, so he’s not difficult to spot.
Hoseok hyung looks like he’s ready to walk the runway instead of sitting in a plane, and Minhyuk rolls his eyes at his choice of leather. Leather. In an hour-long flight, where space is limited and your nose has almost direct contact with the seat in front of you? Good fucking luck.
Jooheon’s hair is blonde, so he’s the easiest to catch, and with how he’s goofing around by doing an impossible dougie in the middle of the airport, it’s obvious it’s them.
A quick head count. One, two, three, four. Four. Four?
Minhyuk frowns, but power-walks over to them, Hyungwon finally taking his eyes off his screen and breathing a sigh of relief. “You’re finally here. About fucking time.”
Minhyuk bites back an equally venomous remark because he is slightly late, and even with the extra time he hadn’t managed to grab his shaver. He realises this will be a recurring theme of regret in his week-long trip.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just. Something at work cropped up and it’s like the whole place can’t function without me,” Minhyuk comments, and Hyunwoo pipes up, all cheery, like the man he is.
“That just means you’re indispensable, Minhyuk! Also, hi, haven’t seen you in a while! How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been o --”
“Leave the chit-chat to the flight, please. We actually have a plane to catch, and while I know a lot of the people from the airlines who would do me favours, halting a plane is not one of those things.”
“Is that his way of paying himself an underhanded compliment? Because that was extremely poorly executed,” Minhyuk whispers in Hyunwoo’s ear, the older man chuckling, and Hyungwon glares.
“I can hear you.” He hisses between gritted teeth, and Minhyuk breaks into a smile.
“Yeah? Oh, great! It was meant to be heard by you anyway.” Minhyuk flips his hair in an overly dramatic manner and sashays away with his suitcase rolling beside him.
He hears Hyungwon growl under his breath and Jooheon laughing so hard he can barely breathe. He missed them, and it was so easy to go back into their high school days, their dynamics immovable.
Hoseok walks beside him and throws a muscular arm over his shoulder, and he slips back into comfort.
For now, it’s easy.
*****
He never really thought to ask, but as they’re all settled in their seats, leather chafing between Hoseok’s thunder thighs, Minhyuk tries his best to not think about it.
He looks around, making sure that he hadn’t just conveniently forgotten about the existence of Kihyun. Or maybe Kihyun was sitting in another place far away from them, with every intention of avoiding Minhyuk.
But why would he? Kihyun had always been so righteous about himself. He did nothing wrong. Never does anything wrong. Why should he hide?
“You looking for something?” Hoseok asks as he tries his best to stuff himself into the cramped seat, and Minhyuk stifles a laugh.
“My shaver, and your sanity. You look like you’re having a hard time.”
Hoseok huffs as he finally manages to lodge himself into the space. “Yeah. No shit. Why the hell did I wear leather?”
Minhyuk raises his brows, amusement unconcealable. “Well, I asked myself the same question when I saw you wearing that from far away, but hey, I’m not one to judge.”
Hoseok pulls a face. As if he believes him.
Minhyuk slides back into his seat and now that he’s started to question Kihyun’s absence, he can’t get it out. So he looks around again, and Hoseok seems to have noticed.
“He, uh, had a project in Japan, so he’ll be travelling straight from there. I hear he’ll reach tonight.”
“Oh.” Is Minhyuk’s reply, and he doesn’t understand the emotion bubbling in his chest. He generally sorts his moods into two categories: the toppers and the downers.
This feels strangely like a downer, only it makes no sense. Surely he must be feeling pretty glad that he has a few more hours without Kihyun around, making everything awkward, having to make small talk.
But because he is extremely tired from having to stare at a screen before his dash to the airport without his shaver (he imagines if he mentions his shaver one more time to Hoseok, the man will pulverise his pretty face with his bulky arms), he falls asleep quickly.
He’s not much a dreamer, but there are flashing images of pink, blue, bright orange, and then a glistening smile that reminds him of hot summers, deep kisses and refreshing ice cream.
He wakes up with tears in his eyes. He reels from how the emotion in the dream had been an absolute topper, but now here he is, awake and back to reality, and all he can feel is a confusing haziness that is undoubtedly a downer, only he doesn’t know why.
*****
Minhyuk shares a room with Hoseok, apparently, which is amazing, because Hoseok tends to ramble a lot. It definitely helps take his mind off a lot of things.
He is unpacking his toiletries sans shaver when there’s a quick rap on their hotel room door. “I’ll get it!” Hoseok screams as he hears a tumble, a deafening scream, and the lock clicking.
“Hey. We’re going for dinner, you guys coming?” It’s Jooheon. Minhyuk pretends to make loud noises in the bathroom, but really he’s just hitting a tube of facial wash against the wash basin as he presses his ear against the door.
“Sounds chill.” Is Hoseok’s reply. Minhyuk is expecting a holler from the older man asking Minhyuk if he wants to join when he hears them speaking in hushed whispers.
“Is Kihyun going to be there?” Hoseok asks, and Minhyuk stills, before he realises it’s suspicious, and turns the tap on, trying his best to not stop making noises.
“I don’t really know. I think so? I didn’t think to ask Hyungwon hyung before I came out, sorry. Should I --”
“No, it’s okay. I might just text him and like --” There is a shuffle, probably Hoseok going to his phone on his bed, Jooheon tagging along behind, stepping out of his shoes.
“Hey, hyung. You know what? I know I sound really shitty saying this, but they’re going to have see each other at some point of time during this week-long trip. Wouldn’t you rather it be us seven at the dining table, pretending like everything's okay, instead of them bumping into each other in the bathroom during Changkyun’s bachelor party with all that awkward staring, where hopefully they’re not shitfaced-drunk or I bet you fifty dollars they’ll hook up in some bathroom stall, and the wedding is going to be fifty shades of embarrassment.”
Hoseok has the audacity to laugh, even though Minhyuk is genuinely considering Jooheon’s point. He’s right. It had better be an awkward dinner with five other grown men who’ll try to smooth things out than some unpleasant ‘hey how’ve you been!’ in the men’s bathroom, staring at each other take a piss.
“You think so far into the future,” Hoseok says, and Jooheon just shrugs. “Says the world’s biggest worrywart,” he replies, which probably earned him a punch in the arm, because he yelps.
“You’d think it’s me, but really it’s Minhyuk. The boy worries so much I worry for him. It’s like his brain CPU is always running on 100% all the time. He has so much to think. I just have a lot to feel.” Hoseok explains, and Minhyuk doesn’t understand the pinch of sourness on the tip of his nose.
He didn’t really think someone had analysed him so clearly, understood him so thoroughly, saw his fear of offending behind his seemingly thoughtless words.
The what if it had been Hoseok all along grows bigger, but he knows it’s just another distraction he’s set up for himself.
Turning off the tap, he composes himself and breathes. More breathing. He pushes open the bathroom door, and looks surprised to see Jooheon standing there, Hoseok staring at his phone.
“Hey Jooheon. Didn’t get to talk to you much on the way, how are you!” Minhyuk goes to give the blonde man a hug, at which the songwriter takes him into his arms, and snuggles around him.
“Hey hyung. I missed you loads. Where’ve you been?”
Minhyuk laughs. “Where I’ve always been, leading my dull and mundane life. I should be asking you that question!”
Jooheon chortles, and tells him all about his recent works. Minhyuk confesses that he’s been keeping tabs on his songs, and is blatantly honest with his feedback. Jooheon seems thankful for the frankness.
“Oh, hey, shoot, we were supposed to have dinner. Do you want to tag along?” Jooheon asks after a very engaging conversation about music with Minhyuk, and Minhyuk’s gaze trails to Hoseok subconsciously, almost like he’s asking for permission.
Maybe he’d always thought of Hoseok as something like his guardian, like a protector, and always had his best interests at heart. Maybe that was why it was important to know if Hoseok was agreeable for him to potentially meet Kihyun right now.
“Yeah, you should come along.” Hoseok breaks into an easy smile, and Minhyuk struggles to follow, but he does accept the invitation to dinner.
*****
Minhyuk’s palms are sweating despite the fact that it’s still chilly outside, the weather seemingly cooling and breezy, but it only contributes to the sickness in his gut.
Hoseok is laughing, talking about something that happened at work last week, Hyunwoo chuckling along as Jooheon asks more questions. Hyungwon is silent at the wheel, eyes trained on the road.
Jooheon seems to notice his silence and inches closer to his side, his face plastered right next to him. Minhyuk jumps. The blonde man just pulls his lips together in a forced smile.
“Hey. You doing okay? You look a little unwell.”
Minhyuk smiles in return, his fingers still trembling. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry about me, hah.”
He says this breathily, and he finds difficulty in convincing even himself. Jooheon just reaches out and holds his hand, wrapping around his shaking fingers as he grabs on tightly.
Minhyuk is thankful in the small smile Jooheon offers and the warmth from his hand. He feels his entire frame relaxing, but his stomach is still churning.
Jooheon seems to know as well, but he doesn’t comment on it, merely returning to their group conversation, reacting appropriately to Hoseok’s statements.
They finally reach the restaurant, Hyungwon pulling into a parking lot without hesitation, his swerve alarming the passengers of his vehicle. “It didn’t kill you, so shut up” was his response, and realising that he was indeed correct, they let it go as quickly as they held it against him.
Jooheon is still holding his hand, and Minhyuk feels his legs going jelly. He’s so useless. It’s been a whole seven years. It’s not like Minhyuk’s not friends with Kihyun on Facebook or anything. He knows what he looks like today, knows the most recent achievements in his career as a singer-photographer.
Yet he still acts like a high-school girl about to see her crush, less heart-fluttering, more anxiety.
Hyungwon leads the pack, as usual, whatnot with his frequent trips to Jeju -- the restaurant had been his recommendation, and people tend to let him have the best seats when he stuffs bills into their hands -- and they sit at a window table.
They’re just in the midst of ordering drinks, Minhyuk wedged in between Hyunwoo and Jooheon, when he arrives in a very flattering shirt and black jeans. There is a thin black choker around his neck, his hair an ashy grey, fringe completely swept back.
Minhyuk’s thankful he’s seated down, because Kihyun, despite all seven years, looks equally stunning, perhaps even more. He would hate to fall on his face if he were still standing.
His Doctor Martens boots clip-clop over the wooden floorboards, and his smile is blinding. Minhyuk feels his heart hammering against his chest, and Jooheon reaches out for his hand again. He squeezes his hand back so tightly, oblivious to the way Jooheon is wincing in pain.
Fuck. Minhyuk had always been such a sucker for good-looking boys, and while he’s had no trouble getting those in nightclubs over the years, this particular boy strikes a painful chord in him.
He suddenly has a violent flashback of them in tears, Minhyuk more than Kihyun, and he had just had some very harsh words thrown his way.
So selfish… only yourself… what about me?
Minhyuk finds his gaze turning hazy, and the smile that was on Kihyun’s face dims by a notch as he notices Minhyuk hunched in the corner. No, please, don’t look at me. Minhyuk feels a waterfall coming, and he grabs onto Jooheon’s sleeve.
The blonde man turns to look at him, slightly annoyed, when he realises Minhyuk’s eyes are watery, and he panics a little.
Fuck, the last thing Minhyuk wants is to attract attention, or to cry at his first meeting with Kihyun, but the memories keep gushing back, the pressure so high he can barely hold it back.
I won’t have time to call you today, but tomorrow, okay?
Minhyuk is very close to breaking point. Hyunwoo seems to have caught on, and his eyes are wide too, like a deer caught in headlights.
It’s always about you, Minhyuk! You, your insecurities, your worries. And it’s always my fault: me, my issues, my faults.
Minhyuk is heaving. Kihyun comes closer, and he feels like falling apart.
It’s always on me, isn’t it? You don’t seem to want to keep this relationship going, do you?
Hyunwoo holds onto him by his shoulder, and Minhyuk falls into the crook of his neck, a crackled sob leaving his lips. Hoseok and Hyungwon hear it and they seem equally shocked.
“Fuck.” Hyungwon mutters under his breath, and stands up before Kihyun is close enough. “Hey, Kihyun, it’s been a while!” He steers him towards another booth as he throws his arm over his shoulder.
Minhyuk breaks apart on Hyunwoo’s shoulder. Jooheon rubs soothing circles on the small of his back, but Minhyuk suddenly releases all the pent-up emotions he’s accumulated over the years in this very moment.
He remembers why Kihyun had made him so miserable. The boy always knew how to break his heart with the most piercing words, a brutality he’d appreciated when they were together, when they weren’t directed at him, hitting bullseye on all his weak spots. They’d been so young then, callow but sweet love, a time where love’s keen sting pricked him the most.
Kihyun had received a scholarship to attend a music university in Australia. Somehow, his boyfriend at that time had only decided to share this information with Minhyuk two days before his departure.
Needless to say, Minhyuk had been furious.
“Did you think to ask me at all, if I was okay about this?” Kihyun and Minhyuk are in Minhyuk’s room, and the bed is a bundle of blankets from their messing around before Kihyun told Minhyuk that he was leaving to a place 8,324 kilometres away for three whole years.
“Ask you?” Kihyun is screeching in disbelief. He seems a little surprised by Minhyuk’s adverse reaction, but mostly it’s because he can’t swallow his pride. “Who are you, my mother? I didn’t think I needed your permission to make life decisions.”
His hands are balled into fists beside him, and Minhyuk is shaking.
Minhyuk only sees fire. “No, you don’t have to ask for permission, but it doesn’t mean I have to fucking agree to continue with this when you’re thousands and thousands of kms away.”
“Is this your shitty way of breaking up with me? Because I’ll be honest, between you and my future, you must surely be naive enough to think I would choose you.”
Minhyuk already knows that for a fact, but he didn’t know that hearing it articulated would make it hurt more.
“Fuck you, Kihyun.” He throws a pillow at his face, but he misses. “Fuck you and your know-it-all self. I didn’t want to break up with you. We were so happy. We could’ve worked something out if you didn’t tell me two days before going to fucking Australia.” Minhyuk has tears in his eyes, and he really hates using it as a weapon only because he knows Kihyun is weak to his crying, but he can’t stop.
Maybe this is the end. This is the last time he’ll see Kihyun, and it has to end like this, with them screaming at each other.
It’s apparently not how it ends, because Minhyuk is sobbing and Kihyun’s heart breaks, because despite all the harsh things he says, Kihyun really does hold Minhyuk close to his heart.
So they sit down on the floor, Kihyun running downstairs to grab two mugs of chamomile tea, smiling sweetly at Minhyuk’s parents in the living room, and passing one to Minhyuk.
“I’m sorry. For saying that stuff. For not telling you. I’m an ass. I thought if I put off talking about it, then I wouldn’t have to talk about it.”
Minhyuk sips on his tea. “I get that.” He answers quietly, the rims of his eyes still red, and Kihyun still has his head hanging. Minhyuk forces a smile on the ends of his lips, and the tea is sloshing in its receptacle. Minhyuk breathes, Kihyun quickly matching for each of his inhales and exhales.
“So. Australia, huh?”
“Yeah. Sydney.”
Minhyuk chuckles. “Your English is so crappy though.”
Kihyun thinks it’s okay to laugh, shoves him by the shoulder. “Speak for yourself.”
“Well, I’m not the one going, so I’m fine.” Minhyuk mumbles into his mug, and there is silence again. The sorrys don’t mean anything anymore.
“Do you… do you think we should keep going?” Minhyuk asks finally, looking up from his drink with wet eyes, and Kihyun’s heart squeezes.
“Do you not want to?” His eyes dim with disappointment, and Minhyuk pulls his lips down. He hears his heart against his chest, their breathing deafening in the tension.
“It’s just -- I’ve heard so many stories. It’s going to be so difficult. You know how I am.”
Kihyun laughs, a little sad. “Clingy.” He points out, and Minhyuk nods in agreement. It’s not really a lie, nothing he actively hides. He likes skinship, enjoys the little touches and hugs, hand-holding and tickles.
It helps that Kihyun is just like him, only less needy.
“I don’t know if I can.” Minhyuk is honest, like he always is, a pain Kihyun’s never witnessed before in his eyes. He looks sad. Kihyun feels guilt gnawing at him. Minhyuk sips on his tea silently, and Kihyun stares. His tea’s run cold, so he puts it by the side, opting to reach out to wrap his fingers around Minhyuk’s wrist.
“Can we try?” Kihyun whispers, and Minhyuk looks up from his mug, and the expression on his face breaks Kihyun. He’s never wanted to hurt him, but singing had always been his dream. He loves him, he really does, but truth be told, he had always known it would come to this.
At the back of his mind, he’s always thought about having to make this choice, and every time it had been increasingly difficult to go for the right one. Minhyuk knows that too, and they know that the chances of high school relationships blossoming into something serious in adulthood is close to impossible.
True love is rare, if not non-existent, and Kihyun is a sensible person. Minhyuk is, too, but he worries too much and takes forever to make decisions like these.
Minhyuk’s gaze is wavering when Kihyun stares at him, and he feels himself cracking under the attention. “Yeah?” His eyes are wet again, and Kihyun smiles, his thumb rubbing circles on his forearm.
“Yeah.” Kihyun pulls the ends of his lips up just slightly, and holds Minhyuk’s wrist up to his lips, and presses a soft kiss against his pulse. It thrums quietly under his touch, and Minhyuk closes his eyes.
“Let’s try.”
*****
“Hey, do you want to go back? I know we don’t have a car, but I could probably call for a taxi and we can go back. Eat some takeaway. Watch a movie together.” Hoseok is by his side in seconds, replacing Hyunwoo’s bulky frame with an equally bulky one, and Minhyuk sniffs.
He really wanted to face Kihyun with confidence today, with the help of everyone else, but Minhyuk is also shaking like a leaf, Hoseok’s grip on him giving him some semblance of stability. He doesn’t understand himself, and it may very well be pride talking, but Minhyuk swallows the lump in his throat with a wince, and inhales.
Hoseok looks at him with cautious eyes, and Minhyuk exhales, slinking into the comfort of Hoseok’s arm behind him. “I’m okay. I just… can I just go to the bathroom for a bit? I’m hungry. I want to eat here; it’s Hyungwon’s treat and I’m planning to eat my whole body weight.”
Hoseok breaks into a chuckle and Minhyuk thinks he, too, can try to mimic it.
“Okay, do you want me to come with?”
Minhyuk shakes his head, but not before sneering. “What am I, five? I’ll be fine.”
He offers a nod of his head as he slips to the bathroom, seeing Hyungwon and Kihyun in the far corner of the restaurant, talking enthusiastically with sparks in their eyes. Minhyuk slides into the bathroom before he catches a glimpse of white pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.
Locking himself in a stall, Minhyuk breathes. He’s not freaking out. It’s not him. He’s not bothered by a man who did nothing but rip his heart into little pieces seven years ago. He doesn’t care. Why did he cry?
If anything he should have went up to him and waged the final showdown with him. Scream the nasty things he should have yelled in return, instead of sitting there in front of a computer screen, letting Kihyun hurl angry words at him.
He remembers the stark sting of his casual insults. The ones before the break up, the small ones he litters in daily conversations when they exchange text messages, the building up of anger from the both of them. Saying things like Minhyuk is way too clingy, that he wants to trap him in even when he’s so far away. Gets annoyed when Minhyuk sends one too many ‘I miss you’ messages, says Minhyuk is guilt-tripping him for not being there.
On hindsight, maybe it was really just Kihyun’s guilt for not being there with Minhyuk when university got too tough, or when Minhyuk had a horrible day working part-time at the convenience store.
Too many times he’d wished he was there, giving him the support he needed, being the shoulder to lean on, but it’s too late now to turn things back. He probably would’ve still chosen Australia if given the choice again, anyway.
And maybe Minhyuk would have made a different choice about them trying out a long-distance relationship, not that any of these what ifs mattered anymore then than it does now.
His hands are still shaking, but he stares at them hard enough, and the tremor weakens. His heart is made of steel. He doesn’t feel. It’ll be okay.
So Minhyuk doesn’t cry anymore, gaze transfixed on his fingers, the lines on his palms, and the shaking stops.
When he leaves the stall and stares at his swollen eyes in the mirror by the wash basin, he wishes that his pining for the man stops too. (But of course love, unlike his tears, doesn’t just screech to a halt even if he jams on the brake as hard as he can.)
*****
It’s easier to not feel bad when there’s a way out. When their arguments get too heated, Kihyun can just end the video call, pretending that Minhyuk isn’t whining to Hoseok and crying his eyes out.
Australia is fun. He’s met a lot of fellow Koreans through some community church event, and there are people asking him out for drinks on days that he doesn’t have classes. Kihyun says yes.
Minhyuk is strumming his fingers against his laptop, impatient. It’s been ages since he’s seen Kihyun, even through the pixels on his screen.
The call goes through, and Minhyuk tidies his fringe before Kihyun appears, a blob of blurriness on his end, and Minhyuk squints.
“Sorry,” Minhyuk thinks Kihyun says, because his voice is dropping out every few milliseconds, “the Internet here is horrendous.”
Minhyuk laughs easy. “Makes you miss the fast speeds here, yeah?”
Minhyuk can barely make out his silhouette, but he can tell there is no humour in Kihyun. He sighs, and then chews on his nails.
There is awkward silence for minutes, and then Minhyuk clears his throat and sits back up. He doesn’t know what to say. The two of them, who have never had a dull or quiet moment, have exhausted their topics. It’s a horrifying realisation to come to when his boyfriend is thousands of kms away, but it’s not like there’s much he can do.
“So.”
“Mmm.” Kihyun hums, and Minhyuk can tell he’s scrolling through his phone instead of looking at Minhyuk on the screen.
“You been okay? Uni is fine?”
Kihyun sniffs. He hears him better now, though there is no lilt in his voice. “Yeah. Busy. Need to catch up twice as much because I’m crappy at English.”
Minhyuk laughs, and he thinks he sees Kihyun flinch. He blinks. He doesn’t know why there is a giant wall between the both of them. Maybe it’s the fact that they are literally an ocean away, but the distance makes a shiver run down his spine.
Minhyuk sniffs again. Kihyun is smiling at something on his phone, and then he pulls away his hand that was on the table to his screen, and starts typing something. The smile lingers on his face, and Minhyuk both feels the ends of his lips pulling up at Kihyun’s happiness, and the sharp pang in his chest because Kihyun is smiling, but not because of him.
He wonders who has managed to hold his attention so well, in a way that makes him look away from the boy he claims to love.
“Who are you talking to?” Minhyuk asks, the same smile plastered on his face, pretending like he’s showing interest in Kihyun’s life instead of intruding. Kihyun’s head jerks up immediately, almost instinctively, and he stuffs his phone behind him.
“No one important,” he replies casually, and just spends the next few seconds in silence, staring at Minhyuk.
This is it. Minhyuk can feel it, the heap of anxiety in him snowballing and launching itself off the edge of a cliff, crashing down onto him like an avalanche. This is the end.
It’s not even as if they’ve screamed at each other -- they’ve done that multiple times before already, and arguing with a pixelated picture of his boyfriend is not exactly how he would have preferred for things to go down -- but this is where they’ve reached the end of the road. The knowledge leaves a bitter taste at the back of his throat, but he’s done pretending.
“Hey Kihyun?”
“Mmm?” Kihyun asks, his eyebrows hiking up, a little quirk of his lips, and Minhyuk remembers him as the boy he loves, even though it hurts.
“We need to talk.”
Kihyun is not dense. In fact, he picks up body language very easily, and notes the way Minhyuk is squirming in his own skin. He averts his gaze, looks at his own feet. “Actually, you know what, I’m tired. I need to go to bed; can we talk next time?” Lifts his head up to look at Minhyuk again, who’s wearing an unreadable expression on his face.
Minhyuk stares into Kihyun’s eyes, or what his eyes are in the form of three pixels, and realising that he doesn’t know how to handle all of this, concedes.
“Yeah, okay. Next time, then. You stay safe and keep me updated, okay?”
“Okay.” Kihyun offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Minhyuk feels his insides churn.
“I love you,” Minhyuk says, and Kihyun nods.
He doesn’t say it back.
*****
The table falls silent when Minhyuk returns. He’s done his best to powder the area around his eyes to remove most of the redness around its rims, but there is only so much makeup can do.
He’s looking straight at Hoseok, who flashes him a tight smile.
“Hey, you’re back. Sit here.” Hoseok shifts closer to the person next to him -- Hyunwoo -- and makes a small space for Minhyuk. Minhyuk tidies his dark hair and nods before taking a seat. He doesn’t look around, but he’s aware of the extra pair of cautious eyes on him.
Taking a big gulp, Minhyuk wills his heart to stay very still as he leans forward, chest against the table. “Hey Kihyun. Nice to see you.”
It’s obvious that the grey-haired man is surprised to be on the receiving end of his greeting, and he almost stands out of courtesy. The irony is not lost on Minhyuk.
“O-oh, hi, Minhyuk. Nice to see you too.” He laughs, a guilty one, one that sounds a little breathless, like he’s just ran a marathon. Sometimes Minhyuk hates being the one who observes too much -- Kihyun is just the way he remembered him to be, his little ticks and quirks all the same, and Minhyuk tunes into his behaviour like it’s the only wavelength he’s allowed to be on.
He knows of too many things he probably shouldn’t, and it should have been something endearing in the past. Today, it just feels more like a joke than anything else.
He doesn’t know why he feels so horrible. Kihyun should be the one feeling lousy, of all people, because he knows just how much he’d hurt Minhyuk before. He should be the one staying up all these nights, his guilt gnawing at his conscience, shedding all those tears he’d never bother to cry for Minhyuk.
But of course Minhyuk makes the mistake of being the one to be more in love in the relationship, and when you love more, you’re at the mercy of the other person to hurt you.
It’s a lesson that Minhyuk has had to learn the hard way.
“Shall we order some appetisers first?” Hyungwon asks with a large, amicable grin on his face, and Minhyuk wonders how he’d be able to stomach anything at all tonight.
*****
He and Kihyun had the most cliche of romance stories. They started out as what they would call friendly rivals -- both of them had a knack for music, and would vye to come up first during the school’s annual singing competition -- and involved in mindless banter that entertained both themselves and their friends.
It was probably during Year 10, where they were forced to become partners for a Maths project, and found solace in one another’s horrifying inability to manipulate numbers.
They didn’t ace their project for obvious reasons, but at least they earned themselves a pretty good friend. As time went by, they got closer. The banter continued, but the rivalry died down, and on one humid summer afternoon, where the Sun shone a little too brightly and its rays burnt into their skin, in Kihyun’s old bedroom where the windows were open and the air was still, Minhyuk had his first kiss.
It felt natural. Right. Like it was meant to have happened since a long time ago, like Minhyuk truly found his calling in the space beside Kihyun. And when he pulled away to Kihyun wearing the biggest grin on his face, he couldn’t help but smile back, his chest expanding and exploding, the pieces landing as shards by their feet, and he couldn’t be bothered to put them back. So he leaned in and kissed Kihyun again.
*****
Minhyuk is surprisingly enjoying dinner quite a fair bit. As long as he’s not stuck with just Kihyun, he’ll count his blessings. Actually, coming to think of it, outside of their first greeting words, Minhyuk hasn’t managed to speak to Kihyun at all.
He’s unsure if it’s his friends’ way of preventing them from interacting, seeing as Kihyun is seated on the other side of the table at the other end. Regardless, Minhyuk is thankful.
Dinner goes by without much of a hitch, Hoseok, Jooheon and Minhyuk absorbed in their little bubble as they discussed the best restaurants in Seoul, while Hyungwon, Hyunwoo and Kihyun partook in some mundane conversation about scenery and the likes.
They eat slowly, Minhyuk just appreciating the way Hoseok is fussing over him, and he lets himself be taken care of for a while. He doesn’t admit that his gaze travels to the tuft of grey hair every now and then, and he’s sure Hoseok caught him looking a couple of times, but if he did, he’s not saying anything about it.
Dinner ends, and everyone is fighting to pay, Jooheon being the most aggressive one of them all when he literally tries to push Hyungwon away from the cashier as he puts out his card between his fingers. Hyungwon is not having any of that, however, insisting that he foots the bill, and Jooheon can take care of the next one if he so desires.
Jooheon agrees reluctantly with a sullen look on his face, and the hyungs take turns to pinch him on his cheeks, because it may be seven years, but Jooheon is still just as adorable to the older men as he had been before, and not even time will convince them otherwise.
Walking out of the restaurant with their bellies full, the group of five head towards the carpark, and stop briefly in their tracks when Kihyun grabs onto Hyungwon’s arm, forcing the taller man to swerve around to look at him.
He hesitates before speaking. “Uh, I gotta go. I have something else to tend to before going back to the hotel, so I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He’s not looking at anyone else other than Hyungwon, even though everyone else is there, and it’s obvious he’s addressing the whole group. Hyungwon frowns. “At this time? In Jeju?”
Kihyun laughs. “You’re not the only one with friends in places outside of Seoul.”
Hyungwon hikes up a brow. “Woah, alright. I was just surprised. It didn’t occur to me that you were such a social butterfly. You never were.”
Kihyun huffs out a small chuckle. Minhyuk feels like he’s eavesdropping on their conversation, even though he isn’t. There’s just something about their interaction -- the interaction between two best friends -- that somehow seems private.
“Well, Hyungwon. People change.”
Ouch. The brown-haired man knows that the statement is not directed at him, but he can’t help but feel the fresh pierce of his words, and how absolutely ironic it is to hear it from him. Almost like a confession, like a piece of truth Minhyuk deserved but never received. People change, indeed, and Kihyun was the prime example of that, only perhaps he hadn’t considered the people he’d hurt in the process of his morphosis. Or maybe: he just didn’t care.
Hyungwon has no good answer to that, and protrudes his lower lip as he shrugs lightly. “Guess you’re right. Go and socialise then, I guess. We’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe, alright?”
Kihyun guffaws. “Who are you, my mum? I’ll be okay,” he says, and Minhyuk has an inkling of a feeling that Hyungwon doesn’t really care, but he doesn’t question it. After all, Hyungwon appears to be the person that was and still is the closest to Kihyun, and Minhyuk won’t pretend to be the person that knows Kihyun the best anymore.
They share a small hug, and Kihyun looks up to the rest of the group. “I’ll be going now. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Bye Kihyun.” “Bye Kihyunnie hyung.”
“Stay safe.”
And when Kihyun’s eyes land on Minhyuk, there is an indescribable expression on his face. Minhyuk presses his lips together in a tight line, and nods curtly when Kihyun greets him goodbye with a tip of his chin.
There is a flurry of emotions ready to whip up a storm within him, but Minhyuk knows this is not a good time. It’s never a good time, honestly, and tries to remember that the focus of this trip is Changkyun and his wedding.
It’s not about him. Not about Kihyun. Not about them -- or what they used to be. It’s about Changkyun.
As if sensing his inner turmoil, Hoseok leans in closer to Minhyuk and offers his arm, a large goofy grin on his face, and Minhyuk sinks into his touch, glad to have Hoseok as a distraction.
*****
Minhyuk hasn’t seen or talked to Kihyun in three months. He buries himself in assignments that aren’t due for another three weeks, which is uncharacteristic of him, and takes on more shifts at the convenience store. He watches trash TV, goes to the cinema alone, forces himself to read, because it’s the only activity that’ll lull him into certain slumber.
It all seems fine and dandy, and for a long moment, Minhyuk forgets about Kihyun. Forgets the stabbing pain in his gut when he thinks about being ignored, forgets his spiteful reluctance to be the first one to initiate a conversation, forgets that he exists. For a while.
But it happens when Hoseok is all dressed up to go to the club, and Minhyuk is observing carefully from the side. (He’s not allowed to give fashion advice, because Hoseok is a better dresser than he’ll ever be.)
“Hey,” Hoseok says suddenly, “you should come along with me.”
Minhyuk looks at him with a confused expression, and Hoseok chuckles. “Come with me. To the club. There are some good fish there.”
Minhyuk swallows. “I don’t go clubbing,” he says plainly, like he’s expected Hoseok to know better, considering the number of years they’ve been flatmates.
“You can start!” Hoseok states, and he has this way of charming people, like Minhyuk, only in a very endearing way. Minhyuk gulps.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” Hoseok is shrugging on a leather jacket that wraps around his strong biceps, and Minhyuk shakes his head.
“I just can’t.” He flips over from his stomach to lie on his back, and stares blankly as the ceiling fan spins in circles. Round and round. And round and round.
He can hear Hoseok’s deep inhale. “Don’t tell me you haven’t talked to him.” The words hang between the both of them, sounding almost like a threat, but Minhyuk doesn’t feel the sting.
“I’ve been busy.”
Hoseok sighs, clearly loud enough for Minhyuk to hear. “That’s bullshit. You’ve been keeping yourself busy.”
“I don’t see the difference.”
The older man strides over to his own bed and plops himself on the edge. “You can’t keep doing this, Minhyuk. You have to deal with it at some point of time.”
His name gets stuck in his throat. Minhyuk doesn’t know when or how, but there came a certain point in time where even mentioning his boyfriend’s name scared him. Like if he finally said it out in words, it would mean that it was true.
Minhyuk wants so desperately for it to be untrue. He doesn’t want Kihyun to turn into bubbles, to be a dream that he had in his palms for a short fleeting moment only for it to vanish.
“I --”
A thorn. A thorn pokes at his lungs, and he suddenly struggles to breathe. Hoseok calls for him. “Minhyuk. Minhyuk?”
His voice is distant, like a faraway sound, like the effects of an echo boggling the insides of his mind. And then he trembles, his vision getting blurry, his whole frame shivering. “Shit,” he thinks he hears Hoseok say, but he doesn’t feel him. Doesn’t feel the familiar, warm hold around him in the absence of his boyfriend, the way Hoseok holds him like he’s worth something.
“Minhyuk, are you okay?” The younger boy doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he finds tears dripping from the side of his cheeks, plip-plop on Hoseok’s pristine white sheets, water spots spreading.
“Can I -- can I touch y --”
“Please.” He almost begs, his voice cracking at the end of his word, pleading for a touch, a simple physical interaction -- anything. Anything that’ll confirm that he is loved, real, concrete, and that his affections could be here, anchored right next to him, and not a whole ocean away through electronic signals.
So Hoseok hugs him from the side, and Minhyuk plunges into his musky cologne, into his soft, tender embrace, and lets himself break. Because Hoseok treats him gently, as if he were a child, and sometimes he needs just that. Needs someone to look out for him, to ask about his day, to check if he’s eaten all three of his meals daily.
Yet his heart yearns for a man who does none of those things, a boy who is so utterly selfish, but so absolutely heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
Minhyuk asks for it, like a masochist, like he’s asking to be hurt, but he can’t help his heart. He can’t help but fall in love with a boy who doesn’t know how to carry his fragile heart and pride properly, and it wasn’t that Minhyuk was fond of the pain, either. He just couldn’t help himself with falling in love with Kihyun.
“Minhyuk,” Hoseok says after the younger boy has visibly calmed down, the rims of his eyes still a bright red, and Hoseok most certainly has missed his ride to the club. Minhyuk feels horrible, again, like he’s bogged Hoseok down, the same way he holds Kihyun down, ball and chain to his ankles.
“You need to talk to him. You can’t keep doing this.”
He falls silent, doesn’t say a single word. There is a storm raging within him, and he cannot find the right vocabulary for any of his emotions.
“I’m scared, hyung.” He finally settles and whispers. “I don’t want to lose him for good.”
The older man sighs, his whole frame seemingly collapsing into himself, and Minhyuk wonders how much he’s hurt Hoseok in the process of him hurting himself. Hoseok cares too much for him; he doesn’t deserve his love.
And when the older boy looks at him knowingly, Minhyuk knows what the answer is.
But Minhyuk, you’ve already lost him, whether or not you want to word it out.
And Minhyuk knows -- he’s not a fool -- but maybe. Just maybe. Maybe if he pulls it out longer, maybe if they extend their pain for a while more, maybe if they don’t talk about it. Maybe it’ll all work out fine in the end.
Minhyuk forces Hoseok out of the house, insisting that he’s alright, and that he deserves a night off. And something in their interaction must have set him off, because Minhyuk is done pretending, and in a text message that Minhyuk cannot read properly from the way his tears are blurring his vision, Minhyuk says:
Kihyun-ah. Let’s talk.
*****
“Look after him, okay?” The brown-haired man loiters around the hotel lobby, busying himself with the fake potted plants in the large hall, and acts as if he can’t hear Hyungwon talking to Hoseok, how they’re all tiptoeing around him, refusing to mention Kihyun’s name.
Minhyuk is not a child, and he doesn’t need the protective bubble, but he’s just had a bit of a breakdown in a restaurant, and is not about to start fights that he cannot win.
If they want to handle him with kid gloves, they can. Minhyuk doesn’t particularly care.
The man with the blue highlights returns with the brightest smile, and Minhyuk finds himself smiling back. Hoseok was truly an angel sent from above to keep him company, to protect him, to love.
The what ifs always come back when he thinks of how kind Hoseok is, but there is a line that he never crosses, and never wants to cross. Some people are just not there to exist as romantic partners, while others force him into the most heart-aching romances, bruising everyone on their way out.
And Minhyuk supposes he is a little wretched in the way he’d rather follow his heart than his head, even if he knows, logically, that he’d hurt less if he went with someone who would care for him the way Hoseok did.
“Let’s go back to our room. I have a cup ramen stash in my suitcase that I can’t wait to break into,” the older man states, and Minhyuk laughs easy. He says goodnight to Jooheon and Hyungwon and Hyunwoo, and promises to meet them at the lobby at 10 tomorrow to do up the preparations for the party.
They return to their room on the 17th floor, and Minhyuk steps out of his shoes, ready to strip and go in for a shower when Hoseok tugs on his forearm. He spins around to see the older man staring at him with the strangest expression, and it doesn’t take him long to identify it as pity.
“Are you okay?”
Minhyuk pries his arm away from his hold, and upon seeing the dash of hurt across Hoseok’s face, regrets it almost immediately. “I’m fine.” He tips his chin upwards in a show of mock arrogance, and Hoseok’s gaze turns soft.
“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?”
Minhyuk smiles weakly, huffing out a breath of air. “I’m fine. Stop worrying. It’s been, what, six years?”
“Seven,” Hoseok corrects, and the dark-haired man regards him with ambivalence. “Seven,” he repeats, but it’s not as if he hasn’t been keeping count all these years.
“I’m okay,” he states, again, and Hoseok holds his stare for a long moment before letting him go. “Okay,” he says on an exhale, and makes a move to his suitcase, nodding his head. “If you’re sure.”
Minhyuk grins. “Never been more sure about anything else in my life.”
But as the bathroom door slides behind him, the sound of the world outside sucked into a vacuum, Minhyuk is left with his thoughts and the constant rush of the feeling of a downer, and he doesn’t know why he lied, and whose benefit it was for.
But Minhyuk doesn’t cry. It’s been a long, long time since he has cried for Kihyun, and the sliver of weakness at the restaurant embarrassed him. It filled him up with shame, with guilt, with feelings that he’d refused to relate to for seven years, and he’s not about to start again now.
He can do this, right? They were friends before they were lovers, and now they’re just reverting to what they were before.
(But realistically, Minhyuk knows that that could never be the case, not with Kihyun, at least.)
*****
“I’m busy.” Kihyun is looking into the screen and not the camera, and Minhyuk feels bile rising. He steadies himself, and breathes.
“Then I’ll keep it short.”
Kihyun’s gaze flickers to Minhyuk’s face for a split second. He’s trembling, and Kihyun can tell that he’s nervous. Kihyun can always tell things about him, just like how he understands Kihyun. He hates it.
It irritates him to his very core, the idea that someone else knows him just as well as -- or even better than -- himself. Who does he think he is, strutting into his life like that and taking charge and assuming all these things that always turn out true?
A second’s pause. Minhyuk gulps, and he spits it out like it’s venomous, but his expression is still calm.
“Let’s end this. Here. Now.”
Kihyun falls silent for an extended period of time, then he opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but closes it back up again.
Minhyuk waits. He waits because he doesn’t know what to say, because this hurts him just as much as it should hurt Kihyun.
“What.”
Minhyuk looks away. “I said, let’s break up.”
Kihyun blinks a couple of times, just to make sure he’s hearing this right. “I’m coming back to Korea in a month.”
The boy lets out a bitter laugh. “I know.”
“Wh -- why would you do this now?”
It’s suddenly gone so cold. Minhyuk shivers, and wraps his arms around himself. “If not now, then when? When will we ever have the time to sit down to talk? You’re always so busy.”
The brunette wears a frown. “What, so now you blame me for not having enough time for you? I have a life, Minhyuk, and I’m trying to live it. I work in a fried chicken shop for 20 hours a week, then I go to classes, then I try to make friends, because I’m alone in this stupid country.”
And Minhyuk doesn’t know what comes over him, but his answer comes as a whisper. “A stupid country you chose to go to.”
He knows he really shouldn’t have said that. He doesn’t know why he said that, but perhaps a big part of him still resents Kihyun for leaving him in Seoul. Resents Kihyun for promising to work things out with him, only to leave him alone with his unwelcoming thoughts, without his partner in crime.
“Is this what this is about?” Kihyun is furious now, and Minhyuk can tell from the way his lips are twitching. “You’re so selfish. You only think about yourself. What about me? My happiness? I want this, Minhyuk. I want to learn music in a place where music isn’t just some ‘additional hobby’ you add to your CV. I want to do it as a career, where people appreciate it. I want -- I wanted this.”
Minhyuk shakes his head, his tears threatening to fall. “Am I really so selfish to want you for myself?” he asks, and he knows he really shouldn’t have said that, either, but now he’s on a roll, and he can’t stop. “You’re always on your phone. Talking to your new friends. Going out drinking with them. I’m this far away. I don’t know what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, how you’re coping. I don’t know if you’ve found someone prettier to kiss, if you --”
“Do you hear yourself?” Kihyun cuts him off, with a katana, through his lines, through his heart. “Do you even know what you’re saying now? Are you really suggesting that I cheated on you with someone else?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, but you can’t blame me. I don’t know. I know nothing about your new life, about your new friends, about the things you do.” Minhyuk feels his anger boiling in him, and this is how they’ve always been. Hot-headed, reckless, impulsive. He’s much too irate to let regret have a chance at taking over his brain, and Kihyun, as he always is, fights fire with fire.
“That’s because you’re not my fucking nanny.”
“But I’m your fucking boyfriend, and I’m starting to feel less and less like one!” He slams his fist on the table, and the laptop shakes along with it, Kihyun growing increasingly provoked as he speaks.
“It’s always about you, Minhyuk. You, your insecurities, your worries. And it’s always my fault: me, my issues, my faults. So what, you’re the saint now, are you? You’re doing me a huge favour for sticking around despite me going overseas to pursue my dreams? Why can’t you just be fucking happy for me, just once?”
Minhyuk sees red everywhere. “Me? You asked me to stay, Kihyun. You told me we’ll try and make it work. Where did you try? Where is your effort? How many times in a day do I need to be the one to initiate the conversation only to be fed with one-word answers? I’m not happy for you? I’m so happy for you, Ki, but I’m so alone. I’m so tired, and you’re not fucking helping.”
“Listen to you. There you are talking about yourself again. You’re alone. You’re tired? I struggle daily with understanding the local language and do all of this alone in a foreign country and you’re tired.”
“You chose it. You chose it yourself. No one put a fucking gun against your head and made you go. I asked if you could not go, and you said you had to. So you don’t get to fucking complain.”
“And you’re going to reciprocate me with what? With telling me that you want to break up one month before I’m back? You’re a piece of shit, you know that? I don’t know why I even liked you. You were always so clingy, so annoying, like a fly I couldn’t swat.”
Minhyuk stops. Everything stops. The fury, the blazing flames around him stop, and his world ceases function all at once.
“You take that back.” Minhyuk swallows, and he glares at Kihyun through the screen. “You take all of that back right now.”
“No. I will not. And you know what? Let’s break up, I don’t give a fuck. You wanted things to turn ugly? They’ll be ugly, just the way you want it. I wish I’d never --”
“No. Stop. Don’t you fucking say it, Yoo Kihyun.”
“What, you’re afraid?” The anger in his eyes is obvious, and the previous vexation bubbled up in Minhyuk dissolves, recedes, and he can only feel the sharp stab of Kihyun’s statement. “You’re afraid of hearing the truth? It hurts, now?”
“Stop.” Tremors spread their way through his whole body, and he fully shudders. Minhyuk closes his eyes. This is not how he had expected things to turn out. He thought with how little Kihyun cared that he would be agreeable to breaking up mutually, and Minhyuk would just have a shit ton of ice cream to mend his broken heart.
He didn’t want this. Didn’t ask for the war of words, didn’t expect them to be sparring with phrases that would ultimately make large dents in their pride.
And he knows the words that he’s about to say will create an unfillable hole in his chest, and that he’d never recover from it for a long, long time.
“I wish I’d never met you.”
“No.” Minhyuk whispers.
“Never cared about your stupid little hobbies, or the weird stuff you liked.”
Minhyuk shakes his head, his whole frame shivering as he struggles to block out his words.
“You were just there because I was lonely, and lonely people do stupid shit. Like dating you. Like asking you to stay even though I was going overseas.”
“No, Kihyun.” A small, unconcealed sob. “Kihyun. Please.”
“I never loved you.”
And the words are there, in the open, Kihyun still seething with an emotion that cannot be put out, and Minhyuk is left shredded to pieces.
He sobs, and the sound is heartbreaking. His gut twists, and twists, and twists, and he cannot breathe. His tears cloud his sight, and his lungs feel like they might give way, and Minhyuk for a moment thinks it wouldn’t have been such a bad idea even if they did.
He scrambles for purchase, grabs onto the sheets beneath him, and he doesn’t know if the Skype call is still ongoing, if Kihyun is just sitting there as panic paralyses him, gripping at him so tightly he can hardly breathe.
He asked for this, didn’t he? He requested the break up. He was the one who asked to be separated from Kihyun, so why did he feel so fucking messed up?
All the things Kihyun said he was and wasn’t seemed so true. So accurate. Every jab at his personality, every attack went straight for where it hurt, and Minhyuk cannot fix his wounds. Doesn’t know how to.
And perhaps the most messed up thing about all of this is the fact that he loves Kihyun. Still so very, very much, to a degree where he isn’t sure if he’d be capable of loving another person as much, and to be insulted by the person you love most made the last of his strength escape him in a single blow.
He doesn’t have time to think. He slams the cover of the laptop shut with a resounding bang, and falls back onto his back, curls up into a ball, and wails. Minhyuk cries, bawls, makes an inhumane sound that attracts a half-awake Hoseok from next door over.
He plunges into the comfort Hoseok offers and lets Hoseok hold him as he goes through a few panic episodes, lets Hoseok kiss his hair when he trembles and cries, and really, Minhyuk should have been so glad, so relieved that he’s free from Kihyun.
But why does it hurt so much everywhere?
*****
He doesn’t sleep very well, but when Hoseok asked, Minhyuk explains that he doesn’t really sleep that well in beds that aren’t his own. The older man doesn’t question it, and agrees that it happens to him sometimes, too.
Jooheon and Hyungwon and Hyunwoo look fresh and preppy in the early mornings, while Minhyuk just looks like the cat dragged him in, his eyebags dark and obvious under the artificial light in the dining area.
“You look like shit.” Trust Hyungwon to never candy-coat his words, and Minhyuk lifts his middle finger tiredly. “Says the man who never saw the light of day because he’d always wake up after noon and go attend his weird 3:30 classes.”
Hyungwon rolls his eyes. “It’s called good planning. It means that I don’t have to wake up at some godforsaken hour and have breakfast.”
“You’re faring pretty well now,” Jooheon points out, and the taller man chuckles. “What to do. When you run a business you kind of have to sacrifice a lot of sleep.” He looks away from Minhyuk’s raised middle finger and returns to his scrambled eggs.
“Well, you also own a whole building in the heart of Seoul, so I think it’s some decent trade-off.” A voice comes from behind them, and Minhyuk freezes. He’d been so caught up with the memories of his ex-lover, that he’d forgotten that his ex-lover is on this trip with him. Great.
“Do you really? That’s impressive,” Hyunwoo speaks with his mouth full, and Kihyun laughs before slapping him on the shoulder. “That’s gross, hyung,” he chides before taking a seat beside Hyungwon, his silver grey hair flat against his fringe.
Barefaced -- without the makeup and the choker and the fancy boots, Kihyun looks younger. Almost as young as what he looked like seven years ago. It doesn’t particularly strike Minhyuk’s fancy.
“Shut up, Ki. You’re somewhat famous and have all these gigs. You’re basically half a celebrity now, and you’re giving me shit for it.”
Kihyun’s eyes turn into crescents as he laughs. Minhyuk can’t peel his eyes away. Captivating. Minhyuk could never resist being the tiny moon orbiting around Kihyun, infatuated by his every move, stunned by his every smile.
“Stop embarrassing me in front of the actual celebrity.” He gestures lightly to Jooheon who blushes a dark red, and Minhyuk finds the ends of his lips pull up. He still adores Jooheon to bits. Guess some things never change.
Minhyuk fills in the gaps when they’re left out, almost like they’re meant to be for him, waiting for him to make up for them with his boisterous personality, with a large degree of frivolity, with his laughs and his ability to make people laugh.
And honestly, in any other situation it would be the kind of thing that makes Minhyuk feel so good about himself, but right now it just feels like a weight on his shoulder, like a burden he has to bear, and if the atmosphere were to steer even just a little off course, it would be his fault.
He chuckles, gives reactions where they’re needed, but he doesn’t directly come into contact with Kihyun. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. Surely Minhyuk means little to nothing to Kihyun now. Modern-day Kihyun, the big boy, the adult man who knows how to tell puppy love from genuine functional relationships.
Only Minhyuk still thinks they’re the same thing, and a small part of him wishes that he meant as much to Kihyun as Kihyun still means to him.