Chapter Text
taeyong had remembered when ten had shown him them, the rose arrangements, asked him what he thought and if they would go well with the rest of the decor. “why are you asking me?” he said, “whatever you pick will look lovely.”
“well because i love hearing what you think. xuxi will like anything i choose but i trust your opinion too.”
taeyong nodded numbly at the choice of flowers and went back to wallowing in his hatred for this entire process. the choice of flowers just made it that much more painful.
he remembers meeting xuxi like it was yesterday. he’d gone to ten’s house with the intent on confessing his feelings, because ten had told him he was lonely and he just wanted to be loved. the urge to say “i can give you that, i can make you feel loved.” was so overwhelming that it had made taeyong get up and walk to ten’s to say it to him directly. he knocked on the door, heart in his throat and instead was met with a man he didn’t recognise. yukhei, ten had named him when he had come out of the bathroom, proudly displaying the hickeys on his naked chest, wong yukhei.
that’s when the first petals came.
(he remembers it like it was yesterday. rushing home trying not to cry, feeling like he was going to get sick. his lungs constricting so painfully he wanted to double over. only to cough violently into his hand and four white petals sat there.
and what kind of petals were they? rose petals.)
theirs was a whirlwind romance. only dating for about a year before ten came screeching into his apartment that he was getting married. “will you be my best man, please taeyong, there’s no one i would rather it be.”
and how could he say no? sorry ten, i don’t think i can because i've been in love with you for so long it’s actually starting to kill me. didn’t exactly cut it.
so here taeyong stands, fixing his rose boutonnière (ironic) and trying to hold back tears, not at the vows being exchanged in front of him. but because he wasn’t exchanging those vows with ten, and this was how he was going to die.
it was called hanahaki disease. an affliction caused by unrequited feelings. eventually taeyong’s lungs would bloom with flowers and he’d die from suffocation as a result.
no one knew. how could he tell someone? not when ten was so happy. he didn’t want to come off as trying to ruin his friends happiness with his own selfishness. the only person who had figured it out in the three years taeyong had been head over heels for his best friend was yuta. yuta, who only found out a month before the wedding when he entered taeyong’s apartment to see him hiding his sobs at his kitchen table, talking to ten on the phone about how excited he was for the wedding, rose petals all around him. he promised to tell no one and he stayed true to that. ten had never been alerted and neither had his now husband, who smiled at ten that he hung the fucking moon and taeyong knew he meant every word he said in those vows.
taeyong hated him even more.
well hate’s a strong word. he can’t hate yukhei. not when he’s so sweet, and endearing and everything ten’s has been describing in his ideal man since before taeyong had even met him. but still taeyong can’t help but dislike him, because he will always be the man who swept ten up before he could.
yuta had suggested surgery. “you can’t let this be how you die, hyung.” but taeyong couldn’t do it. to be stripped of feeling altogether was something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. he wants to fall in love, he wants to get married and he wants all the things that come with it, it was just a tragedy that he wanted to do it with someone who didn’t want him.
a grand affair, people called their ceremony at the reception later that day. ten’s mother was singing praises of the decor. “my ten always had an eye for art. he always knew what fit a certain mood.”
taeyong can’t say she’s wrong. ten was pretty spot on for choosing the right flowers. an aspiring florist, ten had told him white roses meant an everlasting love, new beginnings and all that sappy nonsense. ten really subscribed to that and while taeyong did too, he felt he had a right to be sour about the whole thing.
he sits at one of the tables, nursing his cranberry vodka, extra vodka and watches people having fun on the dance floor. ten is in the middle of their group of friends, screaming the lyrics to shinee’s replay. yukhei had gone to the bar again, so taeyong can’t help but smile at ten letting loose and just being so freely happy. everyone around him is so happy too. yuta is twirling sicheng around as he laughs. jaehyun is serenading doyoung drunkenly, but still pulling off the dance pretty spectacularly, while doyoung flushes a deep crimson, a massive grin on his face. everyone is with someone, be it platonic, or otherwise and there taeyong is.
he feels tears spring to his eyes once more. he’s never felt so lonely in his life. only him and his flowers.
“taeyong!” he hears the familiar sing song of ten’s voice. “come over and dance.”
he tries to put on a brave face. “no, i’m good!”“oh come on, i’ll get the dj to put on that marteen song that we like, we’ll do our dance.”
the tell tale wheeze creeps into taeyong’s breathing again. “ten, i’m very tired. you go have fun.”
“but there’s no fun without you!” ten whines and taeyong feels his lungs seizing. the urge to cough is so intense but he can’t. he can’t do it in front of him. he can’t ruin his night, not now.
there’s a clinking of glass for a few seconds before yukhei’s father is standing on stage. the music is quietened. “hello everyone, it is my pleasure to announce that the husband of the groom has a special event planned.” a chair gets pulled out and ten is shoved onto it. “cue the music.”
everyone gives out little coo’s and aw’s at the song that begins to play. yukhei comes up behind his husband and begins to sing. people gasp at the gesture. ten looks up at his husband with sparkling eyes and taeyong feels something in him snap. he chugs the end of his drink, gets up so quickly his chair scrapes against the ground and walks out. the tears drip down his cheek after keeping them in so long. he just couldn’t bear it, he begins to hack and cough out in the hallway, covering his mouth to catch any petal that drop. there’s more of them now, when he coughs, sometimes near full flowers come out and it burns when the thorny ends come out of his throat. tears are streaming down his face, as he drops to his knees.
“taeyong!” he hears yuta call. yuta goes for him but he shakes his head.
“d-don't touch the flowers. don’t.” he says weakly. his voice is rough from the coughing fit and he can taste blood from the throne ripping into the flesh of his mouth. if yuta touches the flowers, he may get infected, even if he’s in a stable relationship.
yuta nods. “okay, i won’t. hyung maybe we should get you to a hospital, this seems to be getting worse.”
“i’m fine. i just want to go to bed.” he stands up, brushing himself off and collecting all the flowers to throw in the bin.
yuta doesn’t look appeased by this but he knows there’s nothing he can say. taeyong has willingly made his bed and now he wants to lie in it. he can’t do or say anything to change his mind. “is there any other way you can get rid of this.”
“i fall out of love. simple in theory.” he laughs humourlessly, wiping his tears before taking the boutonnière off of his suit jacket. he shows yuta the pin, laughing again. “isn’t it funny? he chose the flower that’s killing me. it’s like he knew.”
“hyung, you know he-“
“tell him i’m not feeling well. tell him i had a great time and that i hope he’s so happy with him.”yuta nods and taeyong makes for the reception so they can call him a cab. “hyung,” yuta calls again, making him turn back. “you deserve to be happy too.”
he chooses not to answer, instead he continues to the main desk and waits for the car that will take him home.
— — —
when he gets to his apartment block, he comes to the awful realisation that he didn’t have his apartment key.
he groans, thumping his head against his door with a sigh. he turns to face the door of the apartment across from him and slides down the door. he rests his arms on his propped up knees, shoving his face in the space there. he lets himself cry now. unrelenting sobs and heaving breathes, headache inducing cries. he’s in so much pain, his chest aches both with flower buds very close to bloom and the loneliness unrequited love brings. he wants the pain to stop, wants to get over ten, wants to cough and not see roses. he wants ten to love him.
a head pops out of the door in front of him tentatively. it’s a guy in glasses squinting out into the hallway. taeyong looks up, and they lock eyes for a moment. taeyong’s sobs have quietened, mostly just quick breaths to try and calm down. he knows its late, like midnight so he assumes the man in front of him has been asleep.
“are you okay? do i need to call someone?” he asks, voice a little raspy.
taeyong wipes his face in an effort to look put together (it doesn’t work). “um, no it’s alright. I just got locked out.”
“oh. well, um, that sucks.”“a lot of things have sucked about tonight.”
the guy opens his door fully, revealing his pj’s that have cute little bears on them and totoro slippers. it makes taeyong’s lips quirk slightly. “will i ask?”
“are you willing to listen to me cry about my love life and impending doom?” taeyong expects him to say no and close the door but the guy sighs, looks back into his apartment and shrugs.
“well i don’t have shit else to do.”
taeyong can’t help but let out a snort at that. “inviting a stranger into your home doesn’t seem very safe.”the guy smiles a bit, probably at the sight of the first smile on taeyongs face that evening. “if it makes you feel any better i’m the dude who gives you your mail when ours get mixed up.”
taeyong has to take a second but he does vaguely recall going downstairs to check his mail and sometimes if they were down together, he would swap mail with this guy when the postman got them mixed up. it had happened so often he was sure the postman just didn’t care where he lived anymore. if he remembers correctly, this guys name is johnny. “johnny, then?”
“taeyong?” he asks after nodding.
the guys is nice on the eyes, despite being sleepy. he blinks a little before stepping aside. “if you don’t want to talk at least i have a couch to sleep on.”
he ponders for a moment before giving in. it was either this or sleeping out in the cold corridor so he might as well take it. “thanks,” he says, stepping into the apartment.
johnny closes the door behind him before walking to the kitchenette, walking toward the kettle. “so, i’m ready to hear about the trials and tribulations of your love life.”
and to the sound of a whistling kettle taeyong details his life, his love and the thing that was ultimately going to kill him: ten. all the while, johnny sits in silence after the tea is poured, brows furrowed in concern in all the right places, holding a hand out for taeyong to hold when things could tough to talk about. he tears up at the end, when he says that he doesn’t want to die, not really, dying for someone isn’t worth it, but he can’t help loving his best friend, not after all they’d been through.
at the end, when taeyong has finished crying yet again, he begins quietly. “who’s to say this is terminal?”
taeyong blinks. “huh?”
“you said the only way to cure it is through surgery or through getting over your object of affection. i think it would be terminal had you never known how ten felt about you. but you know, don’t you? he doesn’t feel that way about you.”
“jeez, way to push the knife in deeper.” the blonde grumbles, he feels that tell tale wheeze gurgle in his throat.
johnny smirks a bit. “but i’m right, aren’t i?”
“y-yeah.” thorns prickle in his lungs.
“so maybe, since you don’t want to die, you work through it. you make yourself heal.”
the wheeze stops.
“think about it. maybe this was just a fleeting thing. so intense and real you made yourself love sick. maybe this will go away and you’ll fall for someone who’ll give you flowers as a gift instead of a curse.”
the conversation ends there, taeyong too shocked to continue. johnny gives him a lopsided, comforting smile before disappearing into the bedroom and coming out with a blanket and pillows along with a pair of pink cotton pyjama pants. he wishes him goodnight before going back into the bedroom. taeyong dresses for bed in silence, turns off the light in silence and goes to sleep utterly flabbergasted. he had never thought of it that way. he thinks back on his relationship with ten. on the reasons why he was in love with him. he dissects every moment, every look and every flutter of his heart. the more he investigates those memories, the more johnny’s statement rings true. maybe this was just a very intense crush. maybe taeyong loved ten but not in the way he thought. he goes to sleep that night and dreams of grizzly bears and totoros.
when he wakes up the next morning to cough up the flowers, as his morning routine usually goes, his eyes widen.
the tips are wilting.