Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is it, then.”

Zhangjing’s voice is soft but void of its usual warmth.

Yanjun’s heart almost aches at the thought.

Just almost.

“Please be well.”

The younger boy’s throat itches to reply, but his lips don’t move, his tongue numb. Upon seeing his blank expression, Zhangjing lowers his head.

That is the last time Yanjun sees the other’s bright eyes for that year.

Bright eyes that were then filled with tears.

“Goodbye.”

He watches as Zhangjing walks away.

From him.

It isn’t the first time the other has done so, considering their hectic schedules; but this time, Zhangjing is also walking away from Yanjun’s apartment with all of his own belongings.

When Yanjun thinks about it, it isn’t the first time that has happened either. When the paparazzi were hot on their trail at some point, they had decided to live apart for a while, too.

However, this time, Zhangjing is also walking away from them.

From their relationship.

From their love — or what is left.

Yanjun has read a lot about romance and heartbreak, so he feels as if something is amiss when Zhangjing is no longer in sight.

He isn’t crying.

Not only are his eyes and cheeks void of tears, Yanjun does not even feel the supposed pain that comes with a breakup.

Wondering if the stories were wrong, Yanjun closes the door behind him. The apartment looks almost the same as before, perhaps missing an item or two if Yanjun bothered to remember: a photo frame that held a photo of them on their debut night, Zhangjing’s fluffy bunny-eared house slippers, but everything still seems in place.

Grabbing a towel after entering his bedroom, Yanjun heads towards the bathroom and prepares to bathe. Their breakup had been after dinner, a quick one without any screaming at all, surprisingly.

Or perhaps not, Yanjun thinks. It seemed that the both of them had expected it to happen sooner or later.

The stress of hiding from the public eye had been bearable at first — in fact, it was almost thrilling. Neither of them cared too much about the consequences of their relationship. They were head over heels in love, and with heels in the air, who would think too much of the risks?

Both of them were young and lived in the moment.

Loved in the moment.

Fiercely, deeply, entirely.

Yet as time passed, as their careers grew, as the rumours spread — the risk of being found out began to weigh heavily upon them every day.

Sometimes, Yanjun thinks that time isn’t at fault.

Nor their careers, nor the rumours.

They simply loved less.

Yet, most times, Yanjun did not want to admit so.

Especially not on his part. He can understand if Zhangjing felt overwhelmed. His boyfriend, or rather, ex-boyfriend, had always cared a lot about the views and opinions of others. For Zhangjing to have lasted three years with him under heavy scrutiny was already more than Yanjun could ask for.

But himself?

He loved without restraint, he had poured all the love he knew into their relationship.

Into them.

Into Zhangjing.

So, instead of admitting that even his burning love could die into embers; Yanjun chooses instead to not think about it.

Yet, when he turns the knob to the shower, he finds hot tears pooling at his eyes as hot water rained from above.

When his palms find the wall for support, Yanjun realizes bitterly that he, too, is at fault for their parting.

Chapter Text

“Zhangjing’s lost a lot of weight!” Linong exclaims, staring wide-eyed at the video playing on his phone.

It has been over a month since their breakup.

When they were together, not many had known about their relationship. Yanjun guesses that Zhangjing has not told anyone of their parting either.

“Is he not eating well?” Linong continues, oblivious to the fact that Yanjun had not replied to his earlier comment.

“You should ask him,” Yanjun suggests without sounding offended.

It fails and Linong looks at him in surprise.

“We broke up,” Yanjun continues as a matter-of-factly, not wanting to explain further.

The younger boy’s expression changes to that of a serious one and he nods. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s been a while,” Yanjun states as nonchalantly as possible, waving his hand dismissively.

“Oh? Then who di-” Linong bites down on his bottom lip to cut himself off, looking alarmed at his own words.

Yanjun raises an eyebrow but decides not to ask.

It is much easier going through days without Zhangjing when he did not know about the other’s well-being, after all.

They meet a year later, though not unexpectedly.

With Zhangjing singing the main theme for the upcoming drama that starred Yanjun as the main lead, both knew that they would cross paths sooner or later.

A press conference isn’t the best place to meet one’s ex-lover after a whole year, but it isn’t the worst either.

Yanjun has long mastered the art of smiling regardless of how he feels, so he does not panic when he sees Zhangjing enter the waiting room. His breath, however, does catch slightly when the other turns to look at him.

It would be a lie if Yanjun said he had not looked up news of Zhangjing in the past year since their separation, but to see the other’s bright smile directed at him again makes his heart flutter.

And ache.

Yanjun returns the smile out of courtesy, catching sight of himself in the mirror. His business-smile is perfect, but this particular one falters slightly, and he hopes that no one else notices.

A staff approaches Zhangjing to brief him and set up his microphone pack, so they barely speak before they are ushered onto stage.

“This question is for Lin Yanjun and You Zhangjing. You both were part of Nine Percent and are signed under the same company, did you two discuss to be involved in this drama together?”

“We’ve actually been so busy, we haven’t had much time to talk or meet, much less plan to be involved in the same project,” Zhangjing answers with ease, as if he had been prepared to answer the question his entire life.

Half of Yanjun is thankful that he does not have to come up with an appropriate answer, while the other half of him feels a tinge of bitterness at how unbothered Zhangjing seemed to be by questions regarding the two of them.

He knows he is being petty, but he can’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the thought that Zhangjing has moved on entirely. It is not that Yanjun hasn’t, so he does not understand why his gaze keeps trailing back past the other cast, towards Zhangjing.

The door slams after Yanjun and he sinks himself into the sofa, breathing out a sigh of frustration. He soon buries his head in his fingers, hoping that it will help sort the many loud thoughts in his head.

Firstly, the rumours of him dating his co-star that had spread like wildfire after the press conference.

“I was looking at Zhangjing, not her,” Yanjun clarifies to no one in particular. “And I wasn’t the man in those blurry late-night date photos.”

Regardless, it did not matter.

The rumours served as wonderful promotion for the drama so his management had held back on making a comment, planning to only release a statement later to clarify that he isn’t seeing anyone at the moment.

Secondly, the text that Zhangjing had sent to him.

The congratulatory text.

‘It was nice to see you again,’ the text had read, ‘congratulations, I hope you’ll be happy in your new journey!’

In all honesty, Zhangjing had not specified if he was congratulating him on his supposed relationship or something else, but considering the timing — Yanjun strongly believes that it is the former. He should be happy that Zhangjing is wishing him well, he tells himself, but he can’t help but feel bitter instead.

So much that he would actually date his co-star just to see if Zhangjing would continue wishing him well.

Just so he could know if Zhangjing had really let him go.

Lastly, Yanjun realizes that he had felt less frustrated when the rumours that circulated were of him dating Zhangjing.

At least, they had both been together to worry about them, to laugh at how far-fetched some of the rumours were.

Right now, he is entirely alone and he can’t help but wonder if Zhangjing thought of him as much as his own thoughts included the other.

Love is often cited as the cause of foolish and unreasonable actions; even though Yanjun begs to differ. He had been very careful and grounded when going about his relationship with Zhangjing — not wanting the other to be hurt in any way.

It was true that there were times he would be overwhelmed by the pure need to be with the other that logic would fly right out the window, but they did not happen too often.

Yanjun thinks that the opposite of love caused one to be foolish, too, as he watched Ziyi pulling Zhangjing into a tight embrace.

It is inevitable, considering that it is a reunion for the Nine Percent members after so many years. Even he himself had been hugged — although not as intimately.

He hates that Zhangjing has always been doted upon by the others, hates that the other’s height makes him drown in everyone else’s embrace, as if he is swallowed by the love of others, as if he is hiding from Yanjun in plain sight.

Most of all, Yanjun hates that he is bothered by it.

Hates that he remembers being in Ziyi’s place: his arms circled around Zhangjing’s waist, looking down at his expressive eyes and adorable smile, feeling the other’s giggles vibrating across his chest.

Hates that he misses it, yet not entirely.

When all other greetings are said and done, Zhangjing turns to Yanjun — still smiling brilliantly, cheeks slightly flushed from all the exclamations and hugs.

“Hello, Yanjun.”

Yanjun panics upon hearing Zhangjing’s voice, but it sounds nice so he wants to hear more, and he wonders if his voice has the same effect on the other.

“How have you been?” Yanjun asks, truly curious. Zhangjing pauses for a while, his smile faltering before melting into a sweet one that makes Yanjun’s fingers itch, before saying that he’s been doing alright.

“What about you? You look like you’ve lost weight again.”

The younger man goes into a short daze upon hearing the word ‘again’. They had not met in months, not since the press conference, and Zhangjing had not brought up anything about his weight then — whatever did he mean by ‘again’?

He only returns to his senses when Zhangjing tilts his head curiously, biting back the urge to tell Zhangjing to not do that because it is adorable and he does not want to think so. “I’m doing great,” Lin Yanjun lies  through his teeth. His constant acting schedules made doing it much easier.

“That’s good to know.” His words sound sincere and Yanjun wonders if Zhangjing has been taking acting lessons too, before noticing the other’s fingers reaching for him. The younger man feels silly for ceasing to breathe in the few seconds Zhangjing’s fingers linger on his wrist before leaving — only the goosebumps that are left remind Yanjun that it isn’t just his imagination.

He hates that Zhangjing’s touch still does that to him.

And hates that his fingers reach for the other in response.

Yanjun takes a seat at the table first, not wanting to be the one choosing seats later because of Zhangjing.

Not wanting to be the one avoiding Zhangjing.

He breathes in relief when Zhangjing’s gaze sweeps from the chair next to his, to the one slightly further — between Justin and Linong. Fortunately, Zhangjing’s seat is not right across his so he does not have to look at the other throughout dinner; yet unfortunately, the other is right at the corner of his gaze and Yanjun finds himself trying very hard to not pay too much attention to that side of the table.

However, the trio are are a force not to be ignored: loud and cheery and all the things Yanjun misses about Zhangjing. From the other’s playful expressions to his sudden high-key exclamations; from his warm words of care to his soft yet sincere compliments.

In hopes of directing his thoughts away from Zhangjing, Yanjun drinks.

Cup after cup, and yet he is still sober.

He suddenly hates his high tolerance to alcohol. A voice in his head reminds him that he is not alone, offering memories of his late nights with Zhangjing: drinking and chattering away until they were tipsy enough to forget their worries temporarily, until Zhangjing could throw away his inhibitions and surrender to their physical desires without being paranoid of someone finding out about them.

At the thought, Yanjun’s gaze returns to Zhangjing.

The other’s cheeks are slightly flushed and his shirt is further unbuttoned to reveal the collarbones he is so proud of. Yanjun watches as Justin fills up his own and Zhangjing’s cup with more beer, daring the other to match him cup for cup.

Years ago, if this were to happen, Yanjun would have stopped Justin.

Yet with things so different now, he merely watches as Zhangjing declines weakly, still giving in at the end.

Again, he hates.

Hates that Zhangjing is always so lenient when it comes to pleasing others. That he always puts others before himself.

Zhangjing’s habit of leaning towards others when he giggled, a habit Yanjun once treasured like no other, now provokes a strong displeasure within Yanjun. It is only when Ziyi asks if he is alright that he stops glaring at Linong, whose arms are around Zhangjing in an attempt to stop the other from falling off his chair from too much laughter.

Questions are thrown around after dessert: no longer those of career and updates that news portals would have reports, but those of family, friends — and lovers.

Unexpectedly, Linkai is the first one to openly admit to dating, resulting in a chorus of excited questions. With his lead, the others confess too: be it a past relationship or a current one, or having none at all.

When it is Zhangjing’s turn, he laughs shyly and tries to avoid answering, causing the others to come to a conclusion that he is currently in a relationship that he is unable to disclose.

Yanjun hates the assumed conclusion and hates the expression on Zhangjing’s face even more: the very same expression he had when others asked that question while they were still dating.

Feeling petty but needing to be, he puts on the same expression when the question falls onto him. Linkai asks if he is dating his co-star from his previous drama and Yanjun gives an ambiguous and non-committal answer.

Purposely looking at Zhangjing from the corner of his eyes, Yanjun is disappointed to see the other’s contented smile. As if saying: I’m glad you found someone, too.

If he were to be entirely honest with himself, Yanjun is happy for Zhangjing in that way, too.

That he can have someone with him — someone that he won’t have to feel at risk with, someone who can make him happy, someone who isn’t Yanjun.

Despite those thoughts, Yanjun finds it hard to keep himself afloat in the sea of desire to wish Zhangjing well. He remembers Zhangjing’s congratulatory text, one for naught, that only served to rile him up.

He wonders how Zhangjing manages to be so amicable, but then remembers that the other had always been good-natured and supportive. Yanjun himself had always enjoyed basking in the encouragements the other had to offer and wonders bitterly why it had become the opposite.

Caught up in his thoughts, Yanjun no longer knows where the conversation has gone, only coming back when Zhangjing’s laughter fills his ears.

He thinks he should leave sooner so that he won’t have to hear it anymore, so that he won’t have to see Zhangjing any longer.

Yet when Zhangjing turns suddenly to look at him, drunk but still smiling as bright as ever — Yanjun no longer understands what it means to hate, or remember that he even hated at all.

It is almost three o'clock in the morning when Yanjun’s phone rings.

Having just gotten out of the shower after the reunion, he hesitates to pick up the call. However, not many have the number to his personal phone and he imagines it must be rather important, reaching for his phone despite his inhibitions.

The caller’s name almost causes him to lose his grip.

He hesitates again before picking up, putting on the speaker — as if the distance would allow him to be less affected by the voice he is expecting to hear.

“Um, is this Lin Yanjun?”

Not only does the voice not belong to Zhangjing, it isn’t one that Yanjun is familiar with either. As he ponders if this is a prank call, the person on the other end of the line clears his throat before speaking again.

“Do you know a person named Zhangjing?”

At the mention of the other’s name, Yanjun is less inclined to hang up, and replies with a hint of panic in his voice despite trying to sound nonchalant. “Why do you ask?”

As Yanjun listens to the other, he grits his teeth and his expression darkens.

Barely five minutes later, he is dressed and is out the door, first walking, then soon sprinting towards his car.