Chapter Text
— 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏
https://open.spotify.com/track/1almCHdsfikRPfVB9VrEdT
Choi Yeonjun hates how after everything, Choi Soobin still manages to keep his cool. He looks at the taller one that sits across him with an unreadable expression on his face, and he waits. He waits for the other to cry, to curse at him in anger, to throw him punches and slaps that he thinks he very much deserves, anything—he waits, he waits, and he waits. However, Soobin just stills on his seat, fingers on the table interlaced, eyes on him warm, but distant.
Soobin then flashes Yeonjun a smile, but unlike all the times before, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
It breaks everything in Yeonjun.
“I learnt from Gyu that you’ll be having a break for a couple months after…” Soobin stops mid-sentence as he thinks of the correct word to say. “That.”
Yeonjun nods, eyes settling on everything but Soobin. He can’t bear to look at him in the eyes anymore, knowing that under that calm façade, Soobin is breaking. He knows. He knows because the bags under his eyes are evident, puffy and red and definitely screaming for attention. It hurts Yeonjun to the core of his being knowing that he’s the reason why the taller is breaking. He’s not sure if he can be fixed and repaired anymore; it’s not the first time anyway. Yeonjun wants to cry.
“I have something to share with you. I think it’s the best for both of us,” Soobin says as he reaches out for a brown envelope from the dining chair beside him. “I’m sorry if it’s too sudden. I went to the court this morning, and—“ he stops before he draws out two pieces of papers and places them in the middle of the table, in between both of them.
Yeonjun’s heart sinks as he reads the heading.
“Soobin, please…” Yeonjun’s voice cracks, tears start to pool in his orbs, blurring his vision.
Soobin heaves a sigh before flashing another small, dim smile. “I’ve signed mine here,” Soobin calmly says, avoiding eye contact together from the love of his life. He pulls one of the copies below the top one and points to the very bottom of the paper, in which his signature was signed. Yeonjun scans the paper quickly and he notices how Soobin has fully filled in the form with all the necessary details. “You can fill yours and sign it when you’re ready.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that, Bin,” Yeonjun lowly whispers. A tear finally escapes from his left eye, and then from the right, and then strings of droplets keep streaming down his cheeks like waterfalls.
Soobin’s face falls at the sight of Yeonjun crying. However, he stays grounded. He can’t back off now. He needs to be strong, for himself. He can’t break anymore. He doesn’t want to break even more. He’s in pieces; he’s afraid he’s left with nothing if he keeps breaking. He doesn’t want to turn into dust. He wants to at least have the remaining pieces of himself all to himself. Losing Yeonjun will hurt, definitely, but losing himself will hurt more. He knows that.
Soobin lets Yeonjun’s previous statement unanswered. Instead, he says, “I’ll be away for my book tour next week,” he informs the other while putting the forms back into the envelope. He looks at Yeonjun after, gaze softens and warm. Soobin walks over, pulling the crying older to him and embraces him. Yeonjun sobs into Soobin’s stomach with his hands tugging at the hem of Soobin’s knit cardigan.
“I’ll be away next week,” Soobin continues all in while stroking Yeonjun’s back in soothing circles. “For a month and a half. It’ll be good for you to think things through, and it’ll be good for me to think things through too. I hope everything’s settled by then. I don’t want to hold you back any longer.”
Yeonjun doesn’t have to ask what Soobin meant by that. With that, he cries harder and louder and Soobin starts to panic. Instinctively, he crouches down so that he will be on an eye level with Yeonjun. He grabs Yeonjun’s chin ever so gently, noticing how his shoulders are shaking cruelly due to his uncontrollable sobs, and Soobin’s heart breaks at the sight in front of him. Soobin pulls Yeonjun in again, and his shirt is immediately wet from Yeonjun’s tears.
Soobin cradles Yeonjun in his arms, rocking left to right softly and he can feel the older to relax after a good 10 minutes. Soobin lets go, tilting Yeonjun’s head up by the chin, and smiles. It’s a genuine one this time, and he leans closer to leave a chaste kiss on Yeonjun’s forehead. He lingers there for a while, inhaling Yeonjun’s vanilla and honeydew scent—a scent that lets Soobin know that he’s safe, that he’s home, and now a scent that he’ll miss a tad too much, too.
“Don’t cry, Jun,” Soobin whispers, hands reaching up to cup Yeonjun’s cheeks to stroke them. “It hurts me a lot to see you cry, you know that.”
At that, Yeonjun’s tears start to flow even more, and Soobin chuckles, though sadly, before he pulls in him for a hug again. “It’s okay, baby,” Soobin says, hugging the older tighter, eyes are teary too. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. It’s alright. I’m here.”
Yeonjun rests the side of his cheek at the crook of Soobin’s neck, dampening the latter’s collarbone. He tugs Soobin closer and the younger just lets him be. And Yeonjun hates it. He hates it how calm and grounded Soobin is. He’d rather have him to scream his heart out, to break down with ugly tears and deafening sobs, to break and destroy things like how Yeonjun breaks and destroys him, but Soobin has always been calm. He has always been the rational one between the two. He has always been, and Yeonjun hates it.
“Bin,” Yeonjun chokes on his own tears, voice hoarse and muffled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
At his apology, Soobin’s tear falls. It’s only a droplet, quick and fast and unnoticeable and he regains his composure. He can’t cry again—he won’t. He has cried enough once the TV flashed the news. He has cried enough when the images of his own husband leaving a hotel with another woman—his co-actor that Soobin finds himself hating when he has never come close to disliking anyone before—filling his Twitter timeline and Instagram feed. He has cried enough he’s left with no tears to cry anymore. Perhaps there will be more because his heart is aching still, but not today, not when Yeonjun is around.
Today’s Yeonjun’s turn to cry. Soobin, being his usual selfless self, wants to be the pillar—a shoulder for Yeonjun to cry on, though he’s breaking too.
“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun repeats like a broken record. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for breaking your heart. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I’m sorry I failed you…”
Soobin doesn’t want his apology. He wants him to tell him that it was all a lie, that it was all a misunderstanding and how the media was only manipulating stuffs so that they would have something relevant to be put as the headlines. He wants him to tell that there’s no one else but Soobin. He doesn’t want him to apologise. He smiles nevertheless, knowing all tad too well that there are some things in life that can only remain as wishes. This is one of them.
Yeonjun pulls away, still crying, but a lot calmer. He reaches out, tracing the bags under Soobin’s eyes gently, and Soobin lets himself lost under Yeonjun’s touch. Yeonjun leans in and kisses the other’s eyes—from the right, and then the left—because he had made the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen in his entire life crying—because of him, for him. He traces his finger downwards, further south, until it lands on Soobin’s lips.
Soobin flinches.
“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun whispers. “I love you.”
Soobin snaps back into reality. He encloses his hand around Yeonjun’s hand that is on his face and pulls it down. He puts up a smile before he gets up.
“I’m hungry,” Soobin says, completely changing the topic. “What do you want to have for dinner? I’m kind of craving for pizza.”
Yeonjun tries to ignore the growing pains under his chest from his unanswered ‘I love you’. That was a first—Soobin has never let that unanswered before, no matter what he’s feeling at the moment: happy, angry or disappointed, even frustrated—and Yeonjun knows that won’t be the last time.
And his heart breaks even more and more.
After dinner and many tears later, Yeonjun sits on the edge of the bed and stares into the nothingness ahead of him. Soobin is in the bathroom, taking a shower longer than usual if Yeonjun remembers correctly, and Yeonjun uses the silence to let what happened today sinks in. It’s not that it hasn’t sunk in; he knows all tad too well what’s happening, but he just can’t make himself understand. He wants to understand—he wants to understand the motive behind Soobin’s action—but he knows he’s being selfish. Because he knows exactly why Soobin did what he did. He just doesn’t want to understand it.
Yeonjun wished Soobin would be more selfish and less selfless, but not this time—he wants Soobin to be selfless, and he can be selfish after. Please.
Yeonjun reaches for his phone, and makes a call to his manager, who’s also his best friend.
Within three rings, the call is answered.
Yeonjun makes his way out to the balcony and inhales the night view.
“Gyu,” he calls out, voice flat and monotonous. “Are you busy?”
“Hyung,” Beomgyu greets. “No, I’m not. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Yeonjun’s eyes get teary again at the question. “I’m not.”
“Should I come over?” Beomgyu’s voice is laced with worry.
“No, no. Please don’t. I—“ Yeonjun heaves a heavy sigh. “Soobin… Soobin, he—“ another sigh follows with a headache, “he files for, you know—“ a sob finally escapes his lips and he leans his head on the railing. “He files for a divorce. It’s—“ another sob follows by another and by the time he realises it, he’s sobbing cruelly to the point his whole body is shaking. He falls to the cold floor, the phone slips from his hand, and for a moment, it’s just him and his ugly cries.
He doesn’t realise Beomgyu’s screaming on the other line, asking for him. Not even realising that the call ended and the younger is on his way there. Not even realising that Soobin is now on the floor, engulfing him in an embrace. Not even realising that he’s breaking down ever so terribly. Not realising that he’s having trouble breathing now because his own tears are suffocating him, strangling him, and he hears nothing except for his own heartbeats that beat so fast he thinks he’s going to explode in any second.
“Jun, hey,” Soobin pulls away and shakes his shoulders, only to be met with empty eyes and deafening cries. “Yeonjun, I’m here. You’re okay, please, you’re okay. I’m here,” but the cries don’t seem to stop, won’t seem to stop.
Soobin tries again, he’s close to crying as well because he wonders what went wrong with their relationship and when they got so broken, but he remains calm. “Yeonjun, baby, please look at me,” he softly whispers, tilting Yeonjun’s head to him and it hurts Soobin how the older doesn’t look at him, but past him.
Panicking, Soobin presses his lips against Yeonjun, kissing the other ever so gently while drawing soothing circles on his back. He does so, time is ticking painfully slow, and Soobin fails to notice that he finally cries, too. However, he continues kissing him, softly and delicately as if going beyond that will eventually break Yeonjun altogether. He keeps kissing him, salty, heartfelt tears mixed together, but neither seems to care, because at least for now, they’re together and safe—they’re home.
Yeonjun relaxes, eyes closed and tears aren’t spilling as quick as before, breathing shallow but steady finally. He holds Soobin by the waist, tugging to the younger’s shirt tightly as if his life depends on it, and he responds to the kiss, warmly yet passionately. God, just how much he misses him. He stops shaking after the seventh minute, and even after he pulls away, he never lets Soobin go. He rests his head on the younger’s chest, tears eventually stop flowing, but he can’t stop sniffling.
Soobin embraces Yeonjun, his chin on top of Yeonjun’s head. “You scared me,” Soobin whispers. “God, you scared me.”
Before Yeonjun could reply, a yell echoes into the house. “Yeonjun hyung! Soobin hyung!”
Yeonjun finally remembers that he was talking to Beomgyu before he was drowned with his own thoughts and emotions.
Soobin stands up first, offering his hand to Yeonjun before the younger pulls him up to his feet. Soobin offers him a small smile, wiping his tears-stained cheeks with the end of his sleeve. Yeonjun fights the urge to cry again.
Beomgyu finally enters the bedroom, pushing the door quite roughly and the worry on his face vanishes once his eyes land on Yeonjun and Soobin. He finally lets out a breathe he doesn’t realise he was holding and he supports himself by leaning against the doorframe, one hand automatically goes straight to his chest.
“Don’t worry me like that ever again,” Beomgyu says as he makes his way to the older, pulling him into a hug.
Soobin steps aside, watching the other two in silence. Without asking, he somehow connects the dots that Beomgyu is aware with what’s happening. Beomgyu is his friend, too, but closer to Yeonjun due to the fact that he spends more time with Yeonjun on roads and on sets.
“I’ll leave you two for a while,” Soobin says. “I’ll be in the study room if you need me.”
“Soobin files a divorce,” Yeonjun begins, breaking the silence that has been engulfing both him and Beomgyu for a quite some time. “He went to the court this morning, and you know, he has his form filled and shit, and—“ he stops mid-sentence, finding the right words to continue. “It’s all so sudden. We didn’t even have a proper talk over what’s happening, and he’s always so understanding of me and my work, but then—“
“Hyung,” Beomgyu cuts Yeonjun off. “There’s a limit to how much someone can take things in. Soobin hyung, he has been very patient since the beginning, and the rumours of you and Yeji… they have been going on for a long time and they aren’t pleasing. The recent one, I can’t imagine how Soobin hyung felt when he found out. And you, out of all people know to what extent the rumours are true.”
“Yeji and I…”
“Does she know you’re married, hyung?” Beomgyu asks, cutting off the older once more.
“You know the answer to that, Gyu. No one knows except for you, Taehyun and the managements.”
“Soobin hyung has made it clear to the public he’s married, though he doesn’t reveal who his husband is. Why’s that, hyung?”
“The public can’t know it’s me, Gyu. You know how it is. People can’t know I’m married, and people can’t know who Soobin’s husband is. This industry doesn’t work that way.”
Beomgyu gives Yeonjun a look that the older can’t comprehend. He sighs deeply. “Then, why’s it okay with Yeji?”
“What do you mean?” Yeonjun rubs his temple, the headache he has earlier starts to weigh on him.
“Rumours of you and Yeji have surfaced since almost two years ago, since the two of you had that song collaboration. It doesn’t help when people caught you and her here and there even after the drama you filmed ended. What happened recently… I believe is the last straw for Soobin hyung. I don’t know what happened with you and her at the hotel, but if I were Soobin hyung, I would’ve lost it, too. My question is, why’s it okay for people to see you and Yeji together, but not you and Soobin hyung?”
“You know why. It’s not the same.”
“Same difference,” Beomgyu interjects.
Yeonjun closes his eyes. “I love Soobin. It’s always him; it’s always been him.”
Beomgyu looks at Yeonjun with quite a challenging look. “Then prove it. Soobin hyung has always put your first before anything, even himself. After everything, it’s about time he puts himself first before you. Do something about it, or else you’ll really lose him.”
“It’s too late,” Yeonjun says, voice breaking. “He signed the paper.”
“And you haven’t,” the younger replies, not missing a beat. “That makes it not too late.”
Soobin enters the bedroom when the clock strikes 2. He tried to stay up late, finishing off a book he had been reading since last week, just so he could avoid Yeonjun altogether, and he sighs in relief once the darkness greets him, only the moonlight finds its way into the room. The floor’s dead cold due to the AC, and Soobin walks on his toes to the other end of the bed as he tries not to wake the blanketed figure on the bed up.
Soobin makes himself comfortable on the bed, his back facing Yeonjun before he pulls the comforter gently up to his chest. He closes his eyes, though knowing sleep won’t visit him anytime soon.
If there is anything Soobin hates, it’s deafening silence—a kind of silence that demands to be heard. He hates it, because he hasn’t found a way to defeat it, and he hates it because it’s also how his thoughts and emotions overpower him. He breathes in the suffocating silence, losing again, and once the silence explodes, he sobs—silently. He buries his face to the pillow once again, his cries muffled, heart’s tightening under his chest in a quite violent manner.
He cries and cries and cries, all the while refraining himself from shaking too much because he doesn’t want to wake the other. But, perhaps Yeonjun hasn’t been sleeping all this time, too.
Soobin flinches as his breath hitches when he feels an arm draping over his waist and a pressure on his back, warm breath fanning his neck. Vanilla and honeydew scent lingers in the air, and that’s not supposed to make him cry even more, but he does, and with that the older pulls him closer, something Soobin thought was impossible initially, but it’s always in Yeonjun’s nature to make almost everything possible.
“Sleep, Binnie,” Yeonjun whispers, peppering soft and light kisses on the younger’s neck and shoulders. “Sleep. I’m here now. Sleep. I love you.”
Soobin doesn’t reply; instead he encloses his hand around Yeonjun’s cold one, and they fall asleep not too long after that, hearts heavy but at least, beating as one.