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Everyone dreams of having the perfect life. For some, it’s in travelling the world with nothing tying them down. For others, it’s in living in a quaint household with the sounds of a child’s laughter and a dog’s barks serving as background noise. For Park Chanyeol, it’s in spending the rest of his life giving and receiving love from those he cares for the most.
He meets his best friend at the mere age of four. They grew up to be thick as thieves, feelings of friendship gradually turning into that of romance. Chanyeol felt lucky that he found the other half of his soul that fast and that easy. Acceptance was a whole other matter, of course. Being two men in a relationship is still something frowned upon even in the most progressive of societies. But they made it work, earning approval from their families and friends with their commitment to each other.
At 25 years old, Chanyeol felt ready to take a leap.
“Kim Jongdae, will you marry me?”
Chanyeol recalls what he thinks to be the perfect life, and his answer will always lead back to Jongdae. It’s in being able to goof around and hearing Jongdae’s tinkling laughter against his deep chuckles. It’s in their abilities to talk about everything and nothing all at once. It’s in the unconditional love they readily give to each other and to those around them.
At least that’s what he thought. He realizes now, perhaps ten years too late, that he shouldn’t have put all his faith in love. And that maybe all those songs were right—love will never be enough. After spending practically his whole life beside who used to be his best friend, Chanyeol never thought he’ll ever utter the words that are sure to tear his idea of a perfect life apart.
“Let’s get a divorce.”
Chanyeol doesn’t know which hurts more—the feeling that everything you ever thought to be the best slipping away, or the look of ready acceptance on Jongdae’s face.
It's been a few weeks since that discussion—or rather, a few weeks since Chanyeol spoke and Jongdae nodded along. There have been little words between them thereafter, only a few sentences here and there. The last Chanyeol had said was how he wanted for Jongdae to keep the house. His lawyer said he was too generous and practically crazy.
Loathe as he was to admit, Chanyeol agrees, sighing pitifully to himself that he's yet to find a decent enough apartment to rent after ten oculars.
That's how he found himself gradually moving into the extra bedroom of the home he still currently shares with his soon-to-be ex-husband. He still vividly remembers the look of indignation on Jongdae’s face when he saw Chanyeol exit the guest room the following morning. Chanyeol barely managed to cover his scoff with a cough.
If Jongdae didn't want him in the house, then so be it.
Chanyeol started leaving the house early and coming home late. He fills his hours with morning sessions at the gym and more overtime than necessary. He eats his meals alone, right from a fast food carton, either on a park bench or in his car while he checks apartment listings on his phone. The routine becomes a bane after a few days, and Chanyeol defeatedly decides to just suck it up and face Jongdae's obvious distaste of him.
***
It's not Jongdae he sees in the kitchen of their once happy home, though.
"What are you doing here?"
The other doesn't even turn away from the stove, throwing in ingredients in a pot as if Chanyeol never spoke.
"Kyungsoo?"
"I figured," the other starts, head turning slightly, "that if Jongdae wants to make himself at home in my house, I could do the same in his."
Chanyeol is confused but he doesn't dare say it out loud. Not when Kyungsoo abruptly turns off the gas and finally faces him with his signature menacing gaze.
"Why?" he asks in a demanding tone. "You've been married for 10 years, been together twice that long. Hell, you've known each other for all but 4 years of your lives. What the hell possessed you to want a divorce?"
The months – no, years – leading Chanyeol to the decision had already made him feel small, but he feels even smaller and more insignificant under Kyungsoo's line of questioning.
And for that, he breaks.
Chanyeol falls to the floor and curls in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He bows his head and, for the first time since deciding to end his marriage, allows himself to weep.
Kyungsoo's never been one for words. Chanyeol doesn't expect any comfort, though the other sitting beside him on the floor is reassuring enough. He cries for a few minutes, energy draining until he's too tired to shed more tears.
"Help me understand," Kyungsoo says after his sobs die down.
Chanyeol tries his best to explain, to hide the fact that he doesn't understand much of it himself. He recounts how happy he's been with Jongdae, whether from when they were just friends to when they were boyfriends. Chanyeol wonders aloud if getting married was the mistake, saying how it slowly went downhill from there.
Careers taking them on different paths meant more hours at the office for Chanyeol and long days of Jongdae locked in his home studio. It's coming home with an empty stomach to find out his husband lost track of time to cook dinner. It's falling asleep on the couch while waiting for leftover meals to heat up and waking up in the same spot the next morning with no blanket. Once in a while was bearable, having that as an everyday was a nightmare.
Nightly conversations turn to weekly – later, monthly – discussions. The bills are due. We're out of milk. Your mother called.
All of that, yet no how are you.
With their emotional connection diminishing as the days went on, Chanyeol can’t even remember the last time he was intimate with Jongdae. One or the other was always too tired. Chanyeol wakes up to a still sleeping Jongdae, comes home to an already slumbering one. And on the weekends, they keep to their separate spaces. After a while, the advances just stop. How can he even think of being intimate with someone who doesn’t seem to care what’s going on in is life?
"I always loved his smile, you know?" Chanyeol asks wistfully, pulling away from his resentful thoughts. "I always thought he looked like a cat because of the upward turn of his mouth. Hell, even when he wasn't smiling, it still looked like he was, like he was happy."
Chanyeol pauses and takes a shuddering breath, trying to prevent another onslaught of tears to no avail. Kyungsoo doesn't even bother to hand him a paper towel.
"He started looking sadder and I didn't know what to do. I still don't. Somewhere down the line I lost the ability to talk to him. Somewhere down the line I lost sight of the man I fell in love with and ended up living with a stranger in my own house."
Chanyeol can say more but cuts himself off when Kyungsoo suddenly stands. The other starts pacing, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides—a fair sign of his agitation. Chanyeol can hear Kyungsoo mumble words he can't quite decipher, perhaps trying to talk himself down from exploding in anger.
It takes a few minutes before Kyungsoo speaks in a way he can make out but still do not understand.
"You're an idiot. You both are."
***
It's nearing midnight when Chanyeol hears a car pull up, curious eyes looking back and forth between the front door and Kyungsoo.
"That should be Baekhyun," the other says with a sigh.
Boisterous laughter breaks through the otherwise somber atmosphere. It's a sound Chanyeol hasn't heard in a while, one he's missed but could never forget.
Kyungsoo beats him to the door, letting in a stumbling Jongdae and a raggedy Baekhyun.
"I told you not to go too crazy," Kyungsoo chastises.
Baekhyun had the decency to look apologetic. "It was the only way I could get him to stop crying," he whispers.
But Chanyeol hears it loud and clear.
"I found a place," Chanyeol says, breaking through the tense silence. He sees Jongdae freeze up a bit, only to return to typing furiously on his laptop. So he continues, "I can move out this weekend. I have a meeting with the lawyer on Monday. He says he has a draft of the settlement ready."
"Okay."
With that one word, Chanyeol feels his heart break even more.
***
Chanyeol finds himself in the midst of what looks like the aftermath of a tornado at 2AM on a Saturday. He's not yet done packing his stuff and he's supposed to start moving out by noon. It wasn't like he had a lot of things to bring. The studio apartment he found came fully furnished, so he really only had to bring his personal belongings so he can settle in. What made it difficult was sorting through it all.
He's packed his books, but not before rifling through pages and finding photo booth prints from high school that took the place of bookmarks. He's wrapped a mug that has an identical one still sitting in the kitchen cabinet. He's folded clothes that he knows are Jongdae’s favorites, ones that Chanyeol used to love seeing his husband wear on morning afters.
In between all that, Chanyeol throws longing gazes to the closed door across the hall. Jongdae hasn't really left his home office ever since. And as the clock ticks, Chanyeol thinks this is how he'll spend his last night in their home.
With a heavy sigh, Chanyeol resolves to finish packing. If Jongdae doesn't want to talk, Chanyeol won't force him.
His movements come to a screeching halt when he hears the sound of breaking glass, a loud thud following soon after.
Chanyeol leaps into action and sprints down the hall. He turns the knob only to find it locked, knocking frantically as he tries to recall where they kept the room keys.
"Fuck it," he grunts, taking a few steps back before throwing his weight against the door.
It takes him a 3 tries before he manages to break in, stopping in his tracks right as he passes the threshold.
Jongdae’s on the floor amidst a pile of empty beer cans and soju bottles, and pieces of broken glass right by his feet. His gaze slowly moves up, expression unguarded as his eyes meet Chanyeol’s.
With tears streaming down his face, Jongdae asks the same question Kyungsoo did.
“Why?”
He can’t bring himself to answer, not when Jongdae looks as pitiful as he does. Chanyeol might find himself breaking down before he can even finish a sentence.
Instead, he walks over and crouches down, beginning to pick up the shards of glass as carefully as he can. “Move back a little,” he mumbles. “I don’t want you to cut yourself.”
“Why won’t you answer me?” Jongdae prods, question ending in a choked sob.
Chanyeol winces at the smell of alcohol on the other’s breath, cautiously eyeing how Jongdae seems to be on the verge of falling over. His concern forces him to make quick work of cleaning up the broken glass, throwing the shards in the bin before making it back to where Jongdae still sat. It’s then that Chanyeol notices the picture frame sitting on the other’s lap. He steals a glance, breath hitching when he sees their wedding photo.
“Why don’t you love me anymore?”
***
Much like every person with a sob story, Chanyeol's been through the gauntlet of life. From realizing he's gay to coming out to family and friends, from facing discrimination to rising above it, and doing it all with his best friend by his side—he dare say he's got an iron will against everything the world can throw at him.
Unless it's Jongdae. It will always be just Jongdae.
Chanyeol's bitten his lip raw in the effort to keep himself from breaking down as he guides Jongdae to their bedroom. He sits the drunken man on the bed before moving mechanically about. He opens drawers and takes out clean clothes. He enters the bathroom and runs a towel under warm water. And with a deep breath, Chanyeol goes back to Jongdae.
He keeps his gaze low as he sets to the task, pulling on Jongdae's limbs to run the damp cloth against his skin, hoping to get rid of the stickiness his drunkenness brings. He can feel the tension building, partly because it's the first time in 2 months that they've been in this room together, partly because he can feel Jongdae's eyes with every move he makes, partly because Chanyeol remembers how every inch of Jongdae's skin feels against his.
He reaches for the hem of Jongdae's shirt and thanks the heavens that the other cooperates by raising his hands. What he doesn't expect is for Jongdae to rush forward, pressing their lips together with a force that nearly knocks Chanyeol over.
Chanyeol tries to push him away, only for Jongdae to cling and press against him harder. He winces when the other first moves his lips, the alcohol in his breath assaulting his senses. But even drunk, Jongdae knows how to drive Chanyeol wild—and he gives in.
Chanyeol pulls Jongdae across his lap, making the other straddle him. Their lips crash in blind passion, and Chanyeol feels drunk at the taste of Jongdae's tongue. He can't remember the last time he felt this sort of heat course through his veins.
“Make love to me,” Jongdae says through gritted teeth. “Even if it’s for the last time, make love to me.”
The words wash over Chanyeol like a bucket of ice, the shock making him push Jongdae off his lap and onto the floor.
Chanyeol can see several emotions go across Jongdae's face. Shock. Anger. Sadness. Grief. They all make the tall man freeze in his spot. But when the other starts wailing, he jumps into action.
Despite the punching and screaming, Chanyeol does his best to gather Jongdae back into his arms. He traps the other's hands against his chest, stopping the violent movements with a tight embrace. Amidst accusations—him not loving Jongdae, him cheating on Jongdae—in between choked sobs, Chanyeol stays silent, choosing to just rock back and forth, and run a hand up and down the other’s back in what he hopes provides some soothing.
It's several minutes before Jongdae's sobs dissolve into soft whimpers, and another couple of moments before those become heavy breaths. Chanyeol heaves a deep sigh when he feels the other go lax in his arms, thanking the heavens that Jongdae tired himself to sleep.
With careful movements, Chanyeol lays Jongdae in bed—their bed. Curled up in the middle of a king-size mattress, Jongdae looks smaller. Fragile. Defenseless.
And Chanyeol realizes that his weakness will forever be Jongdae.
He takes careful but purposeful steps, exiting one room and entering another, heading straight for his phone.
***
"I should charge you extra for calling me at 3AM. This better be important."
"Can we postpone the meeting on Monday?"
"Christ," comes the grumble over the line. "This couldn't wait until it's not an ungodly hour?"
"No."
"Chanyeol," the other sighs. "Are you thinking properly, having a meltdown, or are you going through a midlife crisis?"
"Junmyeon, I'm serious," he replies. "Postpone it. Indefinitely."
There's a pregnant pause before Junmyeon chuckles lightly. "You're lucky. Sehun wanted me to prank you with a draft settlement that says Jongdae gets everything while you get a trash bag so you can take yourself out."
Chanyeol snorts, "That's unprofessional."
"That's what you get for hiring a friend for a divorce lawyer," Junmyeon quips. "But fine. Consider the meeting postponed. Let me know if you want the entire thing dropped altogether."
"Actually," Chanyeol starts. "Do you know any counselors?"
***
Chanyeol is sitting at the dining table when Jongdae finally wakes up. Chanyeol would laugh at the surprised face he makes if it wasn't for the heavy weight he's been carrying since hanging up with Junmyeon.
"What are you doing here?" Jongdae asks, voice gruff from sleep. "I thought you said–"
"That's the problem isn't it?" Chanyeol interrupts. "You and I both thinking a thousand other things that are farther from the truth, neither of us bothering to actually bring it up and have something concrete."
Jongdae looks confused, but Chanyeol will take that over expressions of sadness and heartbreak.
"I talked to Junmyeon," he starts, noticing the way Jongdae's features harden. "I also talked to Kyungsoo and Baekhyun."
"What are you getting at?"
"I postponed the meeting for the draft settlement," Chanyeol says. "I told Junmyeon to hold off until I've exhausted all efforts."
"Haven't we?" Jongdae chimes with a dark chuckle. "Isn't that why you asked for a divorce in the first place?"
Chanyeol gives himself a mental pat on the back for keeping calm when Jongdae is acting confrontational, choosing to flash a small smile the other's way instead.
"On the contrary," he answers. "I think we haven't given ourselves a chance at all."
"What are you talking about?"
"We have a meeting with a guy named Jung Yunho on Monday afternoon. He's Junmyeon's senior, and he's supposed to be the best marriage counselor this side of the peninsula."
The first few sessions they had with Yunho were incredibly taxing, going in for several one-on-ones before finally meeting with him as a married couple on the brink of breaking apart. Both felt apprehension in opening up to a stranger when they haven't even been able to do that with each other. But there are reasons why Yunho amassed a great reputation, and Chanyeol and Jongdae can stand witness to it.
Chanyeol still remembers how Jongdae stumbled out of Yunho's office that first day. With tear stains evident on his cheeks and voice still raw with emotion, Jongdae flashes him a weak smile before telling him to go in. While he doesn't know what went on during the other’s session, Chanyeol is quick to find Yunho's ability to coax his innermost thoughts out to be quite a cathartic experience.
When they finally had their first session together, Chanyeol notices a change. Jongdae looks more confident and—even with his lips set in a neutral line—looks happier.
It seems that in the effort of ensuring each other's happiness, you lost sight of what actually makes you happy. You live in a big house, drive nice cars. You have stellar careers. You saw how those successes invoke joy in the other and thought you needed to keep providing that. It's a temporary victory, fleeting. You need to remember why you chose each other when you were 4 years old, 16, 25, 35. You need to nurture that feeling more than you need to work on earning more money for a so-called brighter future. What future will there be if you don't have what or who matters to share it with?
Recalling his talk with Kyungsoo all those weeks back, Chanyeol feels more resolved.
Jongdae is worth it. They are worth it.
“What now?”
Chanyeol hates the tone of uncertainty in Jongdae’s voice. He’s yet to figure out how to get rid of it, and much like everything in their relationship, he knows he needs to work hard in finding the solution.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Chanyeol says with all the conviction he can muster. “I never wanted to even come close.”
“But we did. Come close, that is.”
“How stupid are we, right?”
Silence falls between them. Though unlike the quiet they let take over for the past 10 years, this one is more calm, more resolute.
"We'll make it, right?" Jongdae asks, a mere whisper that barely registers in the other’s ear.
Rather than answer directly, Chanyeol takes the stack of papers sitting between them, flips it over a few times, and raises it up only to start ripping it apart. Jongdae has tears in his eyes, but a smile on his lips.
"We'll make it."