Archive of Our Own

It was spring, but it was still a cold day. Hakyeon had never liked the cold.

Hakyeon stood outside of his niece's school, waiting until he saw Sobin disappear into the building so he could return her gap-toothed grin with a wave. He'd wrapped her up nice and warm despite her protests, and she'd even waited until she was past the gates to pull her scarf free. Hakyeon was very proud. With Sobin safely handed off to the teachers, Hakyeon was free for the day until she needed to be picked up. He shoved his hands into his pockets, mourning the scarf he'd forgotten in their rush out the door. What he needed was a nice, warm drink.

A filled punch card and a coupon for one of the nearby coffee stores was stuffed in his wallet. It was a perfect day for it. Hakyeon had just sent the latest manuscript off to his editor and was hoping for a day of reprieve. But like so many other hopes Hakyeon had entertained through the years, this one was dashed like a silent strike of lightning.

He was still beautiful.

Hakyeon saw him at the same moment the boy next to the man's side said "uncle, what's wrong?"

Hakyeon barely heard him, because standing in front of him was someone he hadn't seen since university. So much time had passed that if he'd changed in the nearly ten years since, Hakyeon might not've recognised him at all.

It was a moment that didn't feel real, that felt like a thousand ghostly spectres slamming into Hakyeon all at once.

"Taekwoon?" His own voice.

"Uncle, do you know him?" The boy.

And then, Taekwoon's soft voice, just like Hakyeon remembered it: "go to the teacher Minyul."

"Okay, see you later uncle!"

And then, they were alone.

They weren't really alone—all around them were parents dropping off their young charges, a hundred young voices in the background. It felt like they were alone, though. In a bubble with the world swirling around about them, the two of them untouched. Like it was just him and Taekwoon, who he couldn't quite look away from. Hakyeon had never been able to look away.

"Why are you here?" Those were the first words Taekwoon said to him in all these years, and Hakyeon couldn't help the small twinge of hurt in his chest.

"I just dropped off my niece," Hakyeon said.

It wasn't true that Taekwoon hadn't changed at all. Taekwoon's expression had become inscrutable, his eyes unreadable, and Hakyeon could no longer understand him with just one look. Taekwoon was still tall and broad shouldered, his dark hair trimmed so his fringe ended just above his eyes, his eyes just as dark, angled like a fierce and wary cat. His face was sharper now, like in those last years of high school, his cheekbones prominent, his jawline angled. He'd become paler, as if he were a vampire emerging only after the sun had set. And now that his nephew was gone, Taekwoon's mouth had taken on the hard set that'd once terrified their opponents both on and off the court.

It had been a long time since Hakyeon had seen it.

"It's cold," Hakyeon said. "I have a coupon for coffee."

This earned him a slight eyebrow raise from Taekwoon, which at least meant he was listening. Sometimes it could be hard to tell. Hakyeon could barely hear himself over the pounding of his heart.

"They give you one for free if you buy one, and I can't drink two. My treat," Hakyeon pushed on. Please. Please don't walk away.

He saw the resolution in Taekwoon's eyes wavering, and here was another twinge of hurt that Taekwoon hadn't meant to linger. That he'd meant to turn around and disappear, just like he had all those years ago. One slight nod, and Hakyeon beamed.

"And if you have time, maybe we could catch up—"

"I don't have time," Taekwoon said. His voice was so carefully monotonous that Hakyeon couldn't decipher if he was telling the truth.

But it was enough. It was more than Hakyeon could've hoped, when Taekwoon could've walked away, once again leaving Hakyeon to chase after his fading shadow—Hakyeon pushed those thoughts out of his head. This was enough.

Hakyeon wasn't too familiar with this area and he had to pull his phone out to check the map one or two times.

"You don't live nearby," Taekwoon observed. Hakyeon nearly jumped out of his skin. He was nervous. He'd never been nervous around Taekwoon. He steadied himself, glancing at Taekwoon's unwavering stillness. It made it easier.

"No," Hakyeon said ruefully. "I'm taking care of my niece for a few days while her parents are away because of work. Is it that obvious?"

A shake of his head. A long pause, like Taekwoon was considering if he should continue. Taekwoon's lips parted for a moment, and then he caught his lip between his teeth. "You wouldn't be lost," Taekwoon said.

Hakyeon couldn't help but laugh at that as he ushered Taekwoon into the store. He wasn't expecting—but couldn't be surprised at—the nod of recognition Taekwoon got from the barista behind the counter.

"You live nearby," Hakyeon remarked.

Taekwoon didn't answer, just looked up at the menu.

"Friend?" the barista asked, as Hakyeon stepped up to make his order.

"Something like that," Hakyeon said. He handed her both the coupon and a half filled punch card, and then glanced at Taekwoon. "The other one's for him."

"Of course," she said.

Were they friends? Now that they were standing side by side, away from the shield of children, Hakyeon felt an unfamiliar awkwardness descend over them. It was a one-sided awkwardness. Taekwoon just stared at the menu, unperturbed.

Taekwoon's expression was still blank.

Didn't you miss me? Hakyeon wanted to ask. Didn't you miss us? And where did you go? and why did you leave? and:

Come back with me. Come back to us.

A plea.

Hakyeon didn't have a chance.

"Your drinks," the barista said. She smiled warmly, pushing the paper cups across the counter. Taekwoon smiled back, and it was like a hand was squeezing Hakyeon's heart in his chest—how long had it been since he'd seen that smile? How long had it been since that smile had been directed towards him?

It took Hakyeon a beat before he remembered to say thank you, to return her smile with one of his own, and then Taekwoon was walking outside.

"Taekwoon! Slow down!" Hakyeon hurried after him, and Taekwoon did stop, his eyes slightly wider, startled.

"What's your KKT?" Hakyeon asked, pulling out his phone. "Let's add each other. Here, give me your phone."

"Don't have one," Taekwoon mumbled, and Hakyeon found himself believing him. Because he hadn't seen Taekwoon pull out his phone even once.

"Oh," Hakyeon said.

"I have to go," Taekwoon said. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Wait," Hakyeon said, and Taekwoon amazingly did, giving Hakyeon just enough time to dig out a pen and a crumpled receipt, jotting down his own number and pushing it into Taekwoon's free hand.

I miss you. We miss you.

"When you have a chance," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon nodded and tucked it away. His sleeve shifted with the motion and Hakyeon caught sight of a familiar silver bracelet. As if noticing, Taekwoon pulled his sleeve back down, covering his wrist.

"Goodbye Hakyeon," Taekwoon said.

Yes, Hakyeon thought, watching Taekwoon leave. He was still beautiful. Still Jung Taekwoon.

Taekwoon didn't call. It didn't surprise Hakyeon but it also left a strange taste of disappointment under his tongue. Nor did his paths cross with Taekwoon at Sobin's and Minyul's school. Hakyeon could've waited outside the school gates if he were really determined, but that felt both creepy and invasive and would probably get the police called on him. There wasn't a Minyul in Sobin's class or year, and Hakyeon wasn't going to push his niece further than that. The last time Hakyeon had seen Minyul, he'd still been wrapped in swaddling.

So Hakyeon went home, bidding Sobin a fond goodbye and armed with a full bag of his favourite snacks from his brother and sister-in-law, dreading the email from his editor that Hakyeon had yet to read.

Home, and to a vault of memories.

Hakyeon's apartment wasn't small, but was far from palatial. The smaller of the two spare rooms had been converted into his part-time office, while the den was where he kept his spread of notes and whiteboards, a huge corkboard pinned with suspect names and connected by yarn, the walls plastered with index cards and sticky notes. The living room was best described as minimalist. A long sofa, a plain glass coffee table, and a television with a game system he never used unless he had people over. It was brightly decorated with large windows opening onto the city below, some six floors up. It meant the few decorations on the wall were especially noticeable.

They were photographs.

There was the one they'd taken two years ago, Hakyeon with all his siblings and their parents and their little nieces and nephews at a rare spring picnic like the ones he and his siblings loved when they were kids' age. An earlier photo, taken the year after Hakyeon had graduated university—most of the little ones hadn't been born. His family was crowded around a table—they'd all gone to a fancy restaurant for his brother's birthday.

And then the one from two years before.

Taekwoon was in this one. He was smiling, eyes crinkled, grin stretched across his face, one arm wrapped around Hakyeon's waist, while flashing a V with his other hand. There was Jaehwan, a year younger than them, his expression mock disgruntlement, while Wonsik draped himself over Jaehwan's back. Hongbin was standing slightly apart, clearly laughing at them, probably at Wonsik, mouth wider in laughter than anyone's mouth should. Sanghyuk was still a gangly high school student hovering next to Taekwoon, having been roped into the picture despite not being on the team. They were all wearing their team jackets, dark blue with gold stripes, except for Sanghyuk in his school uniform.

For all of them, their eyes glowed with hope.

It was Hakyeon's favourite picture.

There was another one, just the three of them squeezed into the frame in a tangle of limbs, him and Taekwoon and Jaehwan. He kept this one in the bedroom, and his steps drifted aimlessly down the hall, Hakyeon froze at the door. He closed his eyes and laughed softly to himself, letting his body fall back against the wall.

He'd taken it down, years and years ago. Because Jaehwan said that looking at it made him sad.

Like it meant Taekwoon had disappeared forever.

He had to tell Jaehwan. That Hakyeon had seen Taekwoon, and then watched him leave. He should've told Jaehwan immediately, but what Hakyeon had wanted to do was bring Taekwoon home with him. To them. He'd failed, and didn't want to admit it. Hakyeon sighed, suddenly wanting to sit down.

It was good, he supposed, that he was meeting Jaehwan for drinks over the weekend. He'd tell Jaehwan then.

It was definitely too warm for this time of spring, but it also wasn't warm enough to be playing basketball outside in short sleeves and shorts. Jaehwan was cold just looking at the group of kids playing three-on-three on the basketball court. Kids. They were in middle school, probably high schoolers. Otherwise their parents wouldn't let them be outside so close to sundown. They probably only had an hour or so of light left.

The sound of the basketball being dribbled on the concrete, the rattling clang of the backboard with every rebound, the slight creak that suggested the next good dunk would yank the net down.

"Gimme, gimme!"

"Over here, c'mon, pass."

"My ball!"

It brought back the memories.

Jaehwan was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the basketball flying at his face until, well, it was in his face.

"Shi—" Jaehwan cut off a curse, barely catching the ball before it knocked him over like a cartoon character. It still grazed his nose. He turned it between his hands, the pebbles nearly rubbed flat. It was a good ball.

"Shoot, sorry!"

"Are you alright?" One of the girls jogged over to him, stray hair escaping from her loose ponytail. She pushed her bangs aside, sticking sweat damp to her face, her cheeks flushed with activity. She looked genuinely contrite.

"It's a good ball," Jaehwan said without thinking. He smiled and then tossed it to her to hide the awkwardness.

She seemed momentarily taken aback as she caught it, and then grinned. "Yeah, it is! Thanks mister!"

"Sorry mister!" the other kids chorused.

Mister? He wasn't old enough to be a 'mister'! He was running late already and didn't have time to argue with a bunch of kids, so he just waved a goodbye and walked off, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

Basketball, huh. It was a good day for basketball.

By the time Jaehwan made it to the meeting place, he was very, very late.

"Same as ever," Hakyeon said, eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Do you have an excuse this time?"

"Ran into some kids playing basketball?" Jaehwan tried. He hopped onto the bar stool opposite Hakyeon.

"You don't look like you played a game," Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan laughed. "Guilty as charged," he said.

"Well at least you admit it," Hakyeon said.

"That's growth for you." A familiar face emerged from behind Hakyeon, carrying a pint of beer in each hand. Wonsik pulled up another chair, and Jaehwan scooted over to give him some room.

"Wonsikkie! I didn't know you were coming!" Jaehwan said. He grabbed one of the beers before Wonsik could say a word. Hakyeon snorted and took the other.

"You're the one who invited me," Wonsik said, brows furrowing in confusion.

"But you're always busy and never come," Jaehwan said, pouting cutely.

Wonsik seemed only mildly annoyed by getting his beer nicked, and headed back to the bar to order another. Wonsik had always been great like that.

"Late and rude," Hakyeon scolded.

"Not rude, if our Wonsikkie didn't mind," Jaehwan said.

"He's whipped for you," Hakyeon pointed out.

Jaehwan laughed, acknowledging the truth in that. "He's always been helpful, not like that Hongbinnie. Have you heard from him lately?"

"He almost never replies to my texts," Hakyeon grumbled, lips pursing. "Something about how he's 'busy streaming' and 'doesn't have time' because he's 'on a schedule'."

"I keep missing his streams," Jaehwan mused. "They're always so late at night."

"And our little Hyogi is always on shift," Hakyeon complained. "Our baby doctor never has time for us these days."

"He has time for me," Jaehwan said, smiling mischievously. "We're always gaming together."

"He's either working or gaming," Hakyeon said. "Some of us have other things to do."

"Admit it, you just suck because you're old," Jaehwan said.

An inexplicable expression passed over Hakyeon's face, although Jaehwan didn't think he'd said anything wrong. Just that Hakyeon sucked at video games—universally acknowledged to be true, and that he was old—everyone older than Jaehwan was old and ancient. That was just how it was. Yet Hakyeon had one of those pained expressions, like he was sad, or frustrated, or just thinking. Unreadable.

"Hakyeon?" Jaehwan probed.

"I found… I saw Taekwoon, Jaehwannie. I found him."

Hakyeon's words struck Jaehwan in the chest with the sound of breaking glass. Jaehwan's words—did he even have words?—stuck in his throat like the broken pieces, jagged shards. Ice water sloughed off his shoulders and he suddenly felt cold from the inside out. He wasn't cold, though. He saw his hands in front of him like they weren't his hands, and for a ghost of a moment felt fingers grasping at his own, long and pale and tender. Warm.

He'd done his damn best to leave all of that behind.

"Jaehwan?" It was Wonsik. He'd dropped the beer, the pint shattering on the floor. It hadn't been the sound of Jaehwan's heart after all.

"'m fine," Jaehwan said.

He saw Wonsik and Hakyeon exchange concerned looks, and Jaehwan wanted to reach across the table and grab Hakyeon by the shoulders and yell don't you care?

Hakyeon's shoulders were trembling. He hugged his arm against his chest, fingers digging into his other arm, the sleeve creasing unevenly.

Of course Hakyeon cared. Hakyeon probably cared more than any of them. Before it'd been Jaehwan and Hakyeon and Taekwoon, it had been Hakyeon and Taekwoon, Taekwoon and Hakyeon. On the court and off the court. Unbeatable as a pair.

"He lives near little Sobin," Hakyeon was saying. "His nephew goes to her school. He didn't seem happy to see me—"

"You should've brought him back," Jaehwan blurted out.

"Jaehwan—"

"So I can punch him in the fucking face," Jaehwan steamrolled over Hakyeon and his fucking concern. He wasn't made of glass.

Wonsik had disappeared again—probably to get yet another beer, hopefully something stronger. Jaehwan pushed his hair back from his face in frustration.

Taekwoon. Fucking Taekwoon. He'd always been the ace of their team, and was an ace at being dramatic too. Hakyeon's brother and sister-in-law lived almost two hours away by train, far enough that it was barely still city. It seemed like the sort of place Taekwoon would run away to.

The more Jaehwan thought about it, the angrier he got. And it showed on his face.

Hakyeon placed a calming hand on Jaehwan's. Hakyeon's hand was cool and he squeezed Jaehwan's hand, reminding him to breathe. Jaehwan drew in a slow breath and the anger was still there, but it'd become tempered with reality.

"He said he doesn't have a phone, and I can believe him," Hakyeon said wryly. Jaehwan could too. Dramatic.

"So I just gotta go find him myself," Jaehwan said. He paused for a moment, letting out a slow exhale. "How is he?"

Hakyeon seemed to hesitate before he said, "he's alright, I think."

From Hakyeon, it meant that Taekwoon was anything but. Jaehwan rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms, but the tension behind them refused to dissipate.

"You're still wearing it," Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan stopped, putting down his arms. "Wearing what?"

Hakyeon shook the familiar silver bracelet loose from his own sleeve, running a finger around the edge. Jaehwan looked down at his own wrist, where the same bracelet sat. He'd been wearing it for years. So had Hakyeon. Hakyeon had bought them.

"Taekwoon was too," Hakyeon said quietly. "Wearing the bracelet."

Jaehwan brushed his finger across the narrow bangle, feeling the English inscription against his skin. Be Free. Plain script, otherwise unadorned, the bracelet not even as wide as his finger. Hakyeon had bought it for the three of them.

The rest of the evening passed in a bit of a blur. Wonsik came back with the beer, and also two bottles of soju and some glasses. Talk of Taekwoon was replaced by Jaehwan and Wonsik discussing the newest rankings of the music charts and how many of them were songs written or produced by Wonsik. Jaehwan's single had done alright too, breaking top twenty for a week. Hakyeon predictably started whining about how the research for his next novel was going—or wasn't going—and why wouldn't anyone appreciate him for it and had Wonsik even read his last novel? Hakyeon listened to every single one of Wonsik's songs!

It was past midnight by the time they paid their tab, Wonsik covering like he almost always did. With the sun gone and a brisk wind, the night air made all three men shiver and button their coats up higher. Wonsik headed off first, while Jaehwan and Hakyeon split a cab since they lived in the same direction.

The buzz of conversation was faint out here, and Jaehwan found himself stepping closer to Hakyeon out of habit. He stopped himself from grabbing Hakyeon's hand barely in time, and ended up gripping Hakyeon's sleeve instead. Jaehwan didn't remember drinking that much, but he couldn't shake off the fog even in the night air. Staying in it was more pleasant.

"I'm gonna find him," Jaehwan said. His shoulder pressed against Hakyeon's. "He's sad and needs someone to find him."

"Let's get you home," Hakyeon said. He patted Jaehwan's hand, encasing it in warmth.

Hakyeon had slid the bracelet first onto Taekwoon's wrist and then onto Jaehwan's, before putting on his own. A promise. That was what Hakyeon had called it. A promise between the three of them.

"I want him back, Hakyeon," Jaehwan whispered. "I want to go home together."

"Home, Jaehwan," Hakyeon said firmly. "And lots of water."

It was the same dream.

Taekwoon never knew where it started, sometimes it was in their old highschool classroom, or the grass behind one of the lecture halls, maybe their bedroom, or the court down by the river. It would always end the same way, in the same place. The outdoor basketball court where he and Hakyeon had grown up. The same fences, the same light poles, but the heat of the flames licking at his face has Taekwoon stumbling backwards, away from the burning backboard of the net. He can't get away, his broken leg gives way under him, the bone grinding in a horrifying crack and Taekwoon falls with a scream. He reaches for something, anything, to get back to his feet but the pain pierces through him. A basketball rolls towards him, the acrid stench of burning plastic and rubber inescapable, even if Taekwoon shields himself from the flames, the ball of fire bouncing harmlessly off his arm. The flames aren't hot. They don't burn him. But he sees them. He smells it. But they're not hot.

Taekwoon would always wake up in that wasteland of a basketball court. Sometimes it was just after he'd fallen, and his leg would ache all day, pain lancing through his knee with every step. Or it'd be with the feel of the ball leaving his fingers, the surface smooth and melted. Once, he'd woken up after being crushed by the fallen backboard, the fixtures finally unable to stand the heat and giving way. It'd been a bad day.

Taekwoon had never stopped having them but they'd grown few and sparse through the years. Ever since his old life had crashed into him that dream had been haunting him almost every night. He remembered Hakyeon being in this one, just his presence, and Taekwoon didn't know if the dream spectre of Hakyeon had lingered for the fire.

Taekwoon woke up blearily from the impromptu nap, his entire body aching and uncomfortable. He lifted his head from one of Sir Hopples' foam blocks and groaned. He immediately let it fall back down.

"Ow."

A solid weight jumped onto Taekwoon's chest, and Taekwoon opened his eyes to all six inches of Sir Hopples' black and white fluff, the rabbit's nose twitching and nuzzling against Taekwoon's sweater. Of course he'd fallen asleep in the rabbit's room again. Taekwoon sighed, and gently rubbed behind the rabbit's long ears.

"You're a good girl," Taekwoon told her. "Thank you for not using me as a toilet."

He was probably tempting fate and it wouldn't be the first time, but he was very tired and he had the day off. His kids hadn't made it to the playoffs, and he'd seen it in their eyes that forced practices would be skipped more than attended. They deserved a break. Needed one. Maybe Taekwoon needed a break too.

It just left Taekwoon with very little to do, except play with Sir Hopples. And clean her litter box. Groaning again, Taekwoon gently lifted the rabbit off his chest and set her down beside him, because now that he'd remembered he'd come in to clean the litter box, he could really smell it. When Taekwoon had taken in his nephew's rabbit because Minyul turned out to be allergic, he hadn't known just how smelly rabbits were. They also hadn't known Sir Hopples was a girl. The name still stuck. It was a good thing Sir Hopples could have a whole room to herself.

Taekwoon sighed and went about tidying up the rabbit's room, Sir Hopples following at Taekwoon's heels as he swept up the hay and replaced the litter. He'd fed her first thing this morning as always, and she was content with burrowing into the fresh hay he put out for her. Taekwoon sneezed at the small plume of dust.

It must be nice, being a rabbit.

Taekwoon watched her for a few more moments, but it was clear that Sir Hopples had fallen asleep halfway through munching on a stalk of hay, buried somewhere in the hay pile. Not wanting to wake her, Taekwoon made his quiet way out of her room, leaving the door open but closing the baby gate behind him.

He hadn't been sleeping well at all. Taekwoon yawned and stretched, walking into the rest of his apartment. He'd already had one coffee today, but could do with another. The couch also looked very inviting, and Taekwoon was tempted to curl up on it with some blankets and watch TV, maybe binge another anime on his ever-growing to watch list. There were just so many these days. He was getting old. He'd probably fall asleep half an episode in anyway. All he wanted to do these days was sleep.

Taekwoon rubbed at his eyes, steering himself away from the couch. The bracelet slid down his wrist when his arms dropped down to his side, stopping Taekwoon in his tracks.

Be Free.

He ran a finger along the edge of the silver bangle, knowing every nick and scratch by touch as they'd accumulated over the years, the inscription the same as it'd been since the day Hakyeon had slipped it onto his wrist. The only time Taekwoon had taken it off outside of games was in the hospital, because it'd interfered with the IV lines. It was a memento of a life he'd left behind.

Or so he thought. Taekwoon's gaze drifted to the landline phone next to the couch, and the crumpled receipt that Taekwoon had smoothed as flat as he could. He couldn't work up the courage to dial that number.

Why are you here? The bitter taste of those words lingered on Taekwoon's tongue, seared there by the hurt on Hakyeon's face.

Coffee, he decided firmly. Coffee and a walk.

It was warmer today than the day he'd seen Hakyeon, but Taekwoon wrapped himself up in a long jacket anyway, looping a scarf around his neck for good measure. A new cafe had opened nearby that Taekwoon kept meaning to visit. A walk would help clear his head. Or clear thoughts from his head.

That was a welcome prospect.

No thoughts, head empty, and a fresh cup of coffee. It was more than enough to get him out the door. He set off along the right street, the neighbourhood near his apartment a well-travelled and familiar one. Easy to let his thoughts vanish. Watch the buildings pass, the occasional check of the street sign. It was in the direction of work.

Had he properly closed Sir Hopples' door? It wouldn't be the first time he'd forgotten, but she didn't seem keen on escaping through the baby gate when he wasn't home. The sun was bright, and he wished he'd brought sunglasses or at least a cap.

It was a pleasant day for a walk.

"Taekwoon!"

Taekwoon stopped short at the sound of his name, dread dropping in his heart. It had been a pleasant day for a walk. A thousand images flashed through his mind, each one tightening the vice around his chest. He knew that voice, and it was not Hakyeon. Hakyeon would've been easier to handle. There was nowhere to run. When he turned to look in that direction, he was met with a solid fist in his face.

Taekwoon reeled back. There were gasps of dismay and concerned murmurings. Even someone wondering if she should call the police. Taekwoon knew that voice though. Loud and angry and when Taekwoon shook the stars out of his eyes, there was no mistaking Lee Jaehwan standing in front of him, not looking the slightest ashamed of punching someone in the middle of the street.

Unlike Hakyeon, Jaehwan wouldn't let Taekwoon walk away without causing a scene.

Jaehwan was like a ball of fire, a short-fused stick of dynamite. Taekwoon could see it in Jaehwan's eyes, now hardened and matured in a way they hadn't been in university.

"We'll go this way," Taekwoon said to Jaehwan. He couldn't think straight, but he had to do something. He bowed in apology to the woman who still seemed to be debating if she should call the police, acting on autopilot. "I'm very sorry for the disturbance, this is only a misunderstanding."

"If you're sure," she said, unconvinced.

But damn, his face hurt. Jaehwan looked ready to land another one, and Taekwoon didn't want it to be here. He was incredibly grateful when Jaehwan followed him instead of taking another swing. Taekwoon didn't want to explain to police that his university ex punching him wasn't a big deal, really. Graduation and nearly ten years had tempered some of Jaehwan's impulses.

There was a park nearby. A play structure for kids, a few benches, and a patch of concrete under the basketball hoops. Importantly, there weren't people. He stopped just next to the bench, resting his hand on the cool wood.

Jaehwan's silence was suffocating.

Taekwoon closed his eyes, the sun searing too much of the world into Taekwoon's vision, more than he could handle. It was too late. Jaehwan was already inescapable.

Jaehwan had lost weight again. Taekwoon loved Jaehwan's soft, round cheeks, especially when they were all crinkly in a wide smile, yet every time Jaehwan released a new single he seemed to diet. He'd never done that during tournaments, they'd burned off everything they ate on the court anyway. The last time Taekwoon had seen Jaehwan in person, Jaehwan still had those cheeks.

Taekwoon didn't know what he could say to Jaehwan. He'd already said his silent goodbyes all those years ago.

There was this one habit that Taekwoon had developed. When he was thinking, or when he was worried, or when he felt lost—he'd fiddle with his accessories; tugging at his earrings, winding the chain of a necklace around his finger, turning his bracelet around and around on his wrist. He never noticed when he was doing it, but to those that knew him, it was a sure tell.

Even from behind Taekwoon, Jaehwan saw it. Even if they'd spent half their lives apart, the years they'd spent together were indelible.

Taekwoon opened his eyes to Jaehwan standing right in front of him. To Jaehwan's full lips, his sharp nose, his elfin ears, but no smile. Just inescapable disappointment. Taekwoon took a half step back.

"You don't have anything to say for yourself?" Jaehwan asked.

Taekwoon's lips parted but then he bit at them, because he wasn't like Jaehwan—he'd never been good at knowing what to say.

"Hakyeon told you," was all Taekwoon could manage.

A strange grimace formed on Jaehwan's face, like he was holding back a snarl, another burst of anger. It disappeared in the next second, and inexplicably with it, all the anger and hardness in Jaehwan's eyes. But none of the hurt. And there'd never been any hatred.

"Just that he'd seen you," Jaehwan said. "And then you ran away again."

"I didn't run away," Taekwoon said.

"Well I'm not gonna let you this time, I'm not like Hakyeon," Jaehwan said.

"Jaehwan, why are you here?" Taekwoon asked. It slipped out without him thinking. Slipped out even though Taekwoon didn't want to know the answer.

"For you," Jaehwan said, and the hardness was back. It was one Taekwoon knew. The end of the fourth period, when they were down by two and all it'd take was one more three-pointer. When Taekwoon was holding the ball and without thinking, passed it to Jaehwan the moment he heard his name because every bit of Jaehwan radiated that he'd score through sheer determination alone, and the entire team knew even before the ball had left Jaehwan's fingertips—

Taekwoon bit down on his lip, his heart suddenly jumping into his throat.

"I'm gonna bring you home," Jaehwan said. "And I'm not gonna let you run away."

Home.

"My home is here," Taekwoon said, and when Jaehwan gestured disbelievingly to their surroundings, "you know I don't mean this park."

"No, it's with us," Jaehwan said.

"You and Hakyeon?" Taekwoon asked softly. "You're chasing a dream, Jaehwan. We're not children anymore. That dream's dead."

"Why? What dream?"

"The two of you aren't together anymore either," Taekwoon said. It was supposed to be a question.

It caught Jaehwan short and Taekwoon felt a slight lurch of guilt, because he hated seeing any sort of hurt in Jaehwan, and he hated being the one to put it there even more.

"There never was 'the two of us,'" Jaehwan said, glancing away. "How'd you even know, with the way you disappeared?"

I didn't disappear was on the verge of being spoken, but that was as true as the moon glowing blue, as false as the sky falling up. Taekwoon had disappeared, and he'd wanted to disappear, and maybe he'd disappeared too thoroughly but by the time he'd realised, he'd already grown unknowingly used to his life.

There was a basketball, forgotten under the hoop. Taekwoon stepped away from the stable presence of the bench, away from Jaehwan, ignoring the sudden ache in his leg. He could feel Jaehwan's eyes on him, tracking him, so Taekwoon snapped the pass to Jaehwan, confident it'd be caught. He heard it, the whisper of the ball against Jaehwan's fingers, the weight of the pass easily absorbed.

"So you haven't entirely forgotten," Taekwoon said.

Confusion struggled with annoyance on Jaehwan's face, and his response was to shoot the ball at the hoop. The ball hit the rim and rolled about it once, twice, and slipped off after another half turn of anticipation. It fell to the concrete and bounced once, twice, and Taekwoon scooped it up before it could roll any further.

"What's your point?" Jaehwan asked. He nodded at the hoop. "That I missed?"

The ball was slightly deflated. Taekwoon spun it between his palms, feeling it rub against his skin.

You always liked to sing, but Taekwoon couldn't quite manage the words.

"Go home, Jaehwan-ah," Taekwoon said softly. He shot the ball and watched as it traced a soft, high arc into the hoop. It dribbled and rolled to the edge of the court. "I don't know what Hakyeon told you, but I don't—"

"He said you weren't happy to see him, but who is?" Jaehwan spoke over Taekwoon, voice loud enough that it cut Taekwoon's words to a halt. "And you don't have a phone. But I'm not here 'cause of him. I…"

Jaehwan trailed off. Taekwoon chanced a glance at him as he bent down to retrieve the ball. Jaehwan was no longer looking at Taekwoon, gaze instead directed down.

So Taekwoon passed him the ball.

"What the hell—stop doing that!" Jaehwan still caught it despite his cursing. He snapped it back to Taekwoon this time, and Taekwoon scored an easy hook shot, curbing his urge to dunk it in, as he always had to. The net was too flimsy for that. This time he caught it before it hit the ground.

"Out of all of us, I thought you'd be the one to quit."

At Jaehwan's words, Taekwoon clutched the ball tighter, afraid he'd already let it go.

"Why?" Taekwoon forced out, a hard lump in his chest, in his throat.

"You said it—the dream's dead. So why are you still doing this? And coaching? Teaching kids?" Jaehwan's eyes were fire again, even if he spoke, if not quietly, then at least calmly. Spoke with thinking.

"What would you know?" Taekwoon asked sharply.

"I had a hunch, I didn't think it'd be right. I didn't want it to be right, but you coach one of the local middle school basketball teams, and it's not even a good team, or a good school—"

"That doesn't make a difference! As long as they love basketball—"

"Like you loved basketball?" Jaehwan asked. "You got them to the city playoffs last year, but how many of them dream about being on the national team, and how many of them will even be invited to try for the youth team? The school's proud of you, but if you really wanted to do this, any of the top schools would hire you, hell, they'd pay you real money. Not bury yourself out here to wither and die. You don't even love basketball anymore, do you?"

Taekwoon's mouth was dry, the ball felt like it was crumpling in his grip.

"It's not there anymore y'know. The way you'd get when you picked up a ball. Made a pass. Shoot a goal. It's not the same, so I won't believe you if you say your feelings haven't changed."

"So?" Taekwoon snapped. "What's it matter to you, if they have or haven't?"

Jaehwan scoffed, lips tightening. "'Cause you're just making excuses. And there's nothing I hate more than that, when it comes to you."

"When it comes to me?" Taekwoon repeated, his voice dropping. "If this is about back then, I didn't need your pity then, and I don't need it now. Don't put your guilt on me, Jaehwan. I see you haven't changed."

Jaehwan's eyes widened like he'd been physically punched in the gut, and where had that come from? Taekwoon swallowed, unable to apologise. Because there'd been about a decade for those thoughts to foment. Thoughts he'd never spoken aloud at the time for the same reason he should never had voiced them now—because they were true, and because Jaehwan knew they were true.

All Taekwoon had wanted was for Jaehwan to stop talking. He'd achieved that, and from the slump of Jaehwan's shoulders, he'd achieved something else too, that he never wanted to do.

So: "I'm hungry," Taekwoon said, and Jaehwan looked at him like seeing him for the first time. "I'm going home. Come with me."

If Jaehwan was ever asked why the first thing he'd done when seeing his highschool-friend university-more-than-friend was to punch him in the face—he had a very silent fifteen minute cab ride to consider the answer and had come up with a page blanker than the last page of an exam, left intentionally blank. It was a stifling silence. Taekwoon up front by the driver, Jaehwan staring at the back of Taekwoon's head.

The last time they'd been in a cab together, Taekwoon's hand had been on Jaehwan's thigh as he rested his head against Jaehwan's shoulder.

And the first thing Jaehwan had done was punch him.

It made him want to laugh.

The apartment building they pulled up to was surprisingly modern. Jaehwan wouldn't have been surprised if Taekwoon lived in some tiny basement room underneath a restaurant. Taekwoon didn't say a word as they rode the elevator to the sixth floor. Sixth. Even in this they were the same, a city apart.

At least Taekwoon's apartment number wasn't the same as Hakyeon's.

"Here."

Taekwoon's voice jerked Jaehwan out of his reverie. Taekwoon had retrieved a pair of slippers for Jaehwan, and they looked too new for Taekwoon to have many visitors.

"Thanks," Jaehwan mumbled, neatly removing his shoes instead of kicking them off like he'd used to. But back then, Taekwoon's apartment hadn't had sleek hardwood floors and a glass coffee table.

"Do you have a roommate?" Jaehwan asked, gesturing at what looked like a second bedroom, the door shut. There was another room barely in view down the hall, the door ajar. Taekwoon just shook his head and then disappeared into what Jaehwan guessed was the washroom, from the sound of running water. Leaving Jaehwan to stand awkwardly in the middle of an unfamiliar apartment.

It wasn't really like Hakyeon's apartment at all.

There were blankets piled on the couch, the couch shoved back against one wall. The rest of it was overtaken by pillows and stuffed animals, with only a small space of couch actually visible. There was a phone on the end table, a scrap of paper next to it, and pictures of who Jaehwan guessed was Taekwoon's nephews and nieces. Taekwoon didn't seem to have his own kids. On the other side of the room was a large flat TV flanked by speakers. Another stuffed animal sat on one of them, and another picture of Taekwoon's family was on the other. Jaehwan recognised Taekwoon's sisters. There were empty mugs on the coffee table, next to the remote for the TV and a few books. Jaehwan couldn't make out the titles from where he'd been abandoned just by the entryway, and an opened box of cookies had been left carelessly on top of them.

"You can sit," Taekwoon said, and Jaehwan nearly jumped out of his skin at how close Taekwoon was, when Jaehwan hadn't heard a thing.

"I hate when you do that," Jaehwan grumbled, gravitating towards the couch. Taekwoon ignored Jaehwan and walked towards the kitchen, grabbing an abandoned bowl from the kitchen table. Jaehwan followed after a moment and sat on a chair that didn't have a sweater tossed over the back.

Jaehwan wished Taekwoon would say something. But that'd be unlike Taekwoon. God forbid Taekwoon ever initiate a conversation that wasn't about basketball, food, or coffee and with anyone but his small circle of friends. Or that was how it'd been. Jaehwan had yet to see any evidence that Taekwoon still had friends.

Why are you here, Jaehwan?

Now that Jaehwan had found Taekwoon—now that he was alone with Taekwoon in his apartment, the question yawned in front of him like the edge of a bottomless cliff. Why was he here?

He'd said it, hadn't he—that he was going to take Taekwoon back with him. Like Taekwoon was a stray dog that'd gotten loose, and not an adult with a job and his own home. How foolish. This wasn't an anime. They weren't long estranged main characters running into each others' arms in a shower of sparkles. It wasn't the dramatic sort either, standing face to face on a mountain, Jaehwan declaring a promise, Taekwoon stoically refusing because of work undone, a world that needed to be saved. There was no world Taekwoon needed to save.

Jaehwan blinked, pulling himself out of his daze. Taekwoon was in front of the stove, his back to Jaehwan. He'd been wearing a loose sweater under his coat and the sleeves were shucked up to his elbows. It sloped off of Taekwoon's shoulders, hiding their broadness, a contrast to the litheness of his body. His white shirt was paired with black jeans, and the monochrome outfit was so Taekwoon, Jaehwan couldn't help but notice Taekwoon's shirt hung partway down his ass, which was as flat as Jaehwan remembered it to be.

Jaehwan perked up at the tell-tale smell of Shin ramyun soup powder overwhelming the kitchen. He hadn't had ramyun in ages.

"Hyukkie always said you made it best," Jaehwan commented. Taekwoon froze; Jaehwan had said it without thinking.

"How is he? Sanghyuk?"

Jaehwan gaped at Taekwoon's back for a few seconds before he realised he was supposed to respond.

"Hyukkie? He's good," Jaehwan said. "He's a doctor now. Passed all his exams."

Taekwoon nodded, his shirt shifting as he stirred. "He's smart," Taekwoon said. "He was always going to do well."

"Y'mean I'm not?" Jaehwan grumbled.

A small shrug.

"Well I'm doing well too," Jaehwan said.

Someone else would've followed up, asking what Jaehwan was doing, or where Jaehwan was working, or ask for his autograph. Usually the last one. Taekwoon just nodded again. He'd added the noodles, Jaehwan could smell it, and it muffled the burbling of the boiling water.

"Don't you wanna know what I'm doing?" If Taekwoon didn't ask, then Jaehwan would. Taekwoon gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"Not really," Taekwoon said.

"Mean," Jaehwan whined. This drew a spluttered laugh from Taekwoon, more derisive than amused, but Jaehwan would take what he could get. Anything but another monotone answer. Even Jaehwan could only endure Taekwoon's silence for so long, without interjecting something of his own.

He was saved from having to force more conversation by Taekwoon turning off the stove. Jaehwan didn't have a chance to help him, Taekwoon walking back with the pot in one hand and bowls in the other before Jaehwan was out of his chair. The sound of the pot being placed on the table held a strange sense of finality that left Jaehwan uneasy. A closing to the scene of Jaehwan's one-sided conversation, but Taekwoon's face was the same unyielding impassiveness that had driven off countless strangers.

He'd yet to see Taekwoon smile.

The realisation hit Jaehwan in the gut, in time with the chair scraping against the floor as Taekwoon sat across from Jaehwan.

"There's something that needs to be said," Taekwoon said. He placed a bowl in front of Jaehwan, and pushed the spoon and chopsticks to him as well.

"What's that?" Jaehwan asked. He didn't think it was about the food.

"We're not friends." Taekwoon's eyes sought out Jaehwan's as he said this, dark and impenetrable. A sense of finality.

"Taekwoon…"

"Whatever we were before—you, me, Hakyeon—that's in the past. Don't make assumptions. This needs to be clear."

"The past is the past, I'm not talking about the past," Jaehwan said, lips curling with the effort not to yell. It was hard not to when Taekwoon pulled this sort of bullshit that had frustration unfurling in his chest. "I'm talking about now."

"So am I," Taekwoon said, "but I don't think that you are."

"Bullshit, if anyone's living in the past it's you," Jaehwan said. He gestured around them, at Taekwoon. "Why else are you here, teaching basketball to kids at a no-name school? You can't let go. The dream's dead, but you're still clinging to the dream."

Taekwoon ignored him, instead scooping ramyun into his own bowl, taking as much soup as noodles. He'd been listening, Jaehwan knew Taekwoon was listening, because of how tense his shoulders were. It was hard to look at Taekwoon and not see the past.

"It's not a dream," Taekwoon finally said, resting his chopsticks down on the bowl. He looked down at it, refusing to meet Jaehwan's eyes. "This is my life, and you don't belong in it."

"Does anyone?" Jaehwan found himself saying. He pointed at the photos, where once would've had pictures of friends and not only family. Taekwoon had been particular about that. "Do you have anyone in your life?"

"We're not friends," Taekwoon repeated, his eyes as cold as his voice.

Jaehwan clenched his fists in his lap, reminding himself that punching Taekwoon again probably wouldn't end well for any of them. He wasn't here to fight, he just wanted Taekwoon back, he just wanted…

He wanted things to go back the way they were.

Taekwoon saw all this playing out across Jaehwan's face, Jaehwan as easy to read as he'd always been. And just like he'd always been, Jaehwan said things and he meant them. True or not. There was no one else in Taekwoon's life other than his family, and that was the way he liked it.

He didn't need anyone else. Besides, he had Sir Hopples.

Taekwoon pushed the pot closer to Jaehwan. He'd made enough for two. "They'll get soggy," he said.

There was a spark of confusion in Jaehwan's eyes before he registered Taekwoon was talking about the noodles. Jaehwan served himself, and Taekwoon felt some of the pressure on his chest relieved. He didn't know what'd he'd have done if Jaehwan refused.

Taekwoon ate quietly; he'd always been taught not to talk with his mouth full. These days, he had to set a good example for Minyul too. It hadn't mattered for Jaehwan though, because if he'd felt like talking he'd chatter up a storm, whether or not Taekwoon said a thing. Taekwoon liked silence—he'd just never had it with Jaehwan.

But then again, there'd always been Hakyeon. Hakyeon had always been there.

Taekwoon bit at his lip, fishing for the last few bits of noodles. He hated that tightness in his throat. It threatened to choke him.

If there was Jaehwan, there was also Hakyeon. Taekwoon hadn't been able to face Hakyeon. Taekwoon still couldn't face Hakyeon.

"Go home Jaehwan," Taekwoon said. "There's nothing for you here."

"There's nothing for you here either," Jaehwan blurted out.

Taekwoon laughed dryly, eyes closing for a brief moment as he exhaled. "My family, my job, the kids on the team," Taekwoon said. "The rabbit."

"The rabbit?" Jaehwan asked incredulously. "You have a rabbit?"

"She's my roommate," Taekwoon said.

"Can I—don't distract me, I'm not done," Jaehwan said.

Taekwoon sat back in his chair, fingers interlaced under the table. He wanted Jaehwan gone so badly, he didn't know how much longer he could face Jaehwan's earnest eyes. Jaehwan truly believed that Taekwoon would just return with him, that somehow they could turn back time. Taekwoon's skin prickled and he gripped his own hands tighter, his thumbs rubbing against the back of his hand, the inside of his wrist.

This was what Taekwoon had chosen—to be free.

He remembered it too clearly. Hakyeon's back to Taekwoon as he stood in front of the stall. It had been on their trip, a week snatched from training and practice but Hakyeon had claimed it as his birthday present. So the three of them, they'd gone off to New Zealand, because Hakyeon had always wanted to go overseas. The sun had been setting. They'd split up to explore the small town where the three of them stuck out far more than Taekwoon would've liked. Jaehwan didn't seem to care, and he was brave and charming. But Taekwoon's English sucked. Hakyeon was different, and Hakyeon had bought two, and then after he'd already paid, when he'd started turning away, he'd turned back and bought a third.

Hakyeon himself was an afterthought. Hakyeon had always been the anchor.

Taekwoon clutched his wrist, because it was Taekwoon who'd turned his back on Hakyeon, who'd clutched that coffee and walked away as fast as he could.

And now Jaehwan had shown up, was sitting in Taekwoon's apartment, had eaten ramyun in silence because Hakyeon wasn't there.

"Are you really okay with this? Are you really okay alone, with just a rabbit?" Jaehwan asked. He'd finished eating too, had put his chopsticks and spoon down. His hands rested on the table.

"I'm not alone," Taekwoon said, but it sounded weak even to his own ears.

"You're not okay," Jaehwan said. "And. And Hakyeon, both of us, we miss you. You didn't give Hakyeon a chance to say it, so I'm gonna say it for him. I don't think he's ever forgiven himself, y'know. Please Taekwoon, at least give him a chance. You didn't see him after, he tried so hard, you weren't there with him, even after you got out of the hospital. Not that anyone knew where you went. So I don't believe him either. I don't believe he's okay with you just disappearing again."

Taekwoon hated that look in Jaehwan's eyes, that earnest, pleading look. The slight glistening that Jaehwan quickly blinked away. Taekwoon swallowed down every shred of emotion, holding every piece of himself back. Wrapping the shell back around himself, like a hedgehog curling into a spiked ball.

"Go home Jaehwan," Taekwoon said again, because there was nothing else he could say. "Just go home."

Jaehwan swallowed, but this time he nodded, once, an excruciatingly slow motion. Even like this, Jaehwan wasn't done. He turned to look back at the living room, and Taekwoon knew what Jaehwan had seen, tucked away in the corner.

"I'll go," Jaehwan said, "I'll go for today. Just… call him. Call Hakyeon. I don't want any of us to regret this. Promise?"

Taekwoon couldn't promise that, but he also couldn't say it aloud. He stood instead and walked to the door. Retrieving Jaehwan's jacket. He handed it to Jaehwan, stepped back, and couldn't react as Jaehwan finally, finally, finally left. He couldn't even remember what Jaehwan had said, locking the door after him.

Not for the first time, but for the first time in years, Taekwoon dropped to the floor, wrapped his arms about his legs and buried his face in his knees, and allowed himself to cry.

"I didn't ask you to do that," Hakyeon said. Jaehwan sat next to him on the couch, his hands clasped between his knees. A numbness had spread through his chest when Jaehwan had said he'd gone to find Taekwoon, and it was spreading through his whole body. This was why he shouldn't have told Jaehwan.

It still hurt, though. That Taekwoon had talked to Jaehwan.

"I know," Jaehwan said. "But I had to."

Hakyeon rested a hand on Jaehwan's knee and gave him a comforting squeeze, the slight tremble in Jaehwan's body lessening under his touch. Jaehwan leaned into it, sliding closer to Hakyeon until their legs were touching.

"Did you have to ask him to call me?" Hakyeon asked, tone a little dry.

"Worth a try," Jaehwan said. "Isn't that why you gave him your number? To call you?"

"I suppose," Hakyeon said with a sigh. "But I don't think he will."

I want to go home together. Hakyeon couldn't shake that memory, Jaehwan clinging to him that night outside the bar. Even he and Jaehwan had gone their separate ways. It was like Taekwoon had been the glue holding them together.

"How did you find him?" Hakyeon found himself asking.

"By accident," Jaehwan admitted. "I found where he worked so I was going to—"

"You found where he worked?" Hakyeon turned sharply to stare at Jaehwan, who merely looked startled instead of ashamed in the slightest.

"Yeah, it made the most sense," Jaehwan said.

"That was incredibly inappropriate and a breach of trust," Hakyeon said, closing his eyes. "That's what people call 'stalking', Jaehwan, which is something that should not be done. I should not need to tell you this."

"It's not stalking if it's Taekwoon," Jaehwan shot back. He bumped Hakyeon with his shoulder. "You write that sorta stuff all the time."

It took Hakyeon a moment to understand what Jaehwan was referring to, because: "that's fiction, and it's a detective," Hakyeon said. He glanced over at the den where the notes for his latest novel were pinned neatly to a corkboard. He pointedly ignored the rest of the wall, which could only be described as a 'creative process' at best, and an 'absolute mess' if he were charitable. Hakyeon pursed his lips. "Also no one is being murdered."

He strongly hoped Jaehwan wouldn't take that as an invitation to find a murder to justify stalking their… friend? Hakyeon was no longer sure where Taekwoon fit.

"You aren't curious?" Jaehwan asked.

"Curious about what?" Hakyeon replied.

"His work," Jaehwan said.

"No," Hakyeon said, his chest tightening. He knew Jaehwan would tell him whatever he said. "I'm not."

"Basketball," Jaehwan said, and that tightness in Hakyeon's chest squeezed his heart into his throat. "He's teaching kids basketball, and coaching a middle school team but I don't think he's paid for that, and there's not one word of his own career from that school team, just that he got their team to the city playoffs."

"Taekwoon's always liked kids," Hakyeon said softly. "It makes sense. He's probably happier like that."

"He didn't smile once," Jaehwan said. "If he was happy, don't you think he would?"

"He doesn't want to see us, of course he wouldn't be happy seeing you," Hakyeon said. Jaehwan curled into himself like Hakyeon had struck him, and it was instinct that had Hakyeon wrapping an arm about Jaehwan's shoulders and pulling him close.

"He said we weren't friends," Jaehwan said, and it was a mumble so quiet it barely left Jaehwan's lips. "There's no place for me in his life, no place for anyone."

The numbness was back. It'd never disappeared, but now it swallowed even the tightness of his chest.

"Taekwoon has always needed his space," Hakyeon said. It rang hollow even to himself.

"His space still had you," Jaehwan said. He pulled away from Hakyeon so he could stare at him. Jaehwan caught his lip between his teeth. "I remember you said it because I laughed at Taekwoon for it, that if there wasn't you then he had no one, that he didn't have any other friends—even if you said it was just a joke, there was always some truth to it."

"We were children at the time. Taekwoon is an adult," Hakyeon said firmly. "Don't interfere with his life."

I want to go home together.

That pleading look was still there in Jaehwan's eyes.

But even he and Jaehwan had parted ways. Not the way Taekwoon had disappeared, but Hakyeon had graduated and halfway through Jaehwan's final year, he'd gotten an apartment of his own. They'd never really broken up, they'd just drifted away. There were times when Hakyeon wondered if that was the right choice, if pulling away from Jaehwan and giving him that space had been the right thing to do—and this was one of those times.

Hakyeon took a deep breath and then stood. Jaehwan's hand slid down Hakyeon's arm, but Hakyeon registered it too late to grab it before it fell back onto Jaehwan's lap.

"Black or green tea?" Hakyeon asked Jaehwan over his shoulder.

"Green," Jaehwan answered.

"Oh? Not black tea with half a cup of sugar?" Hakyeon teased.

"I don't want diabetes," Jaehwan grumbled.

"And because the dentist said you had cavities," Hakyeon added. It'd be easier to just make one pot of tea for the both of them.

Jaehwan had hopped up from the couch and was wandering around Hakyeon's den. Among their friends, Hakyeon was notorious for not allowing anyone but his editor to get a glimpse of his novels before they were ready to be published. Jaehwan had always been an exception. It was hard to deny Jaehwan anything. He still kept an eye on Jaehwan, in case he did something disastrous.

Like trek across the city to find someone who'd made it clear he didn't want to be found.

It was almost unnerving how easily Taekwoon was taking so much space in their lives without being in them at all. And Jaehwan had once been afraid that Taekwoon was gone for good.

How was he? Did he say anything about us? Did he say anything about me?

Do you think we'll ever see him again?

Hakyeon refused to allow himself to ask Jaehwan where Taekwoon lived. He didn't know if he'd have the self restraint not to walk right up to Taekwoon's door and pound at it until he'd knocked it down.

It was a terrifying thought.

The whistle of boiling water yanked Hakyeon back from the brink of a dangerous spiral, back into his own kitchen. Granite counters. Matching appliances. A wooden block of knives near the stove. The electric kettle triggering the auto-off function. He wanted to replace it with a hot water dispenser.

Jaehwan was still investigating the corkboard. It'd give Hakyeon time to prepare some snacks. Taekwoon always liked snacks—he cut that thought off too. He had some chocolate stashed in a cupboard, and grapes in the fridge.

That made Hakyeon smile. Jaehwan would complain about the fruit. And maybe it was time for Hakyeon to invite himself through a different door.

Out of all his old teammates, Jaehwan probably got along with Wonsik the best, at least looking in from the outside. If only because Wonsik was happy to indulge all of Jaehwan's whims, and because they worked in the same industry. What that really meant was that they'd never fought which Jaehwan couldn't say for anyone else. It was usually his own fault though. Even Wonsik said Jaehwan had a bit of a temper.

Wonsik had always been one of the bigger members of their team. He was about as tall as Taekwoon but had more bulk to him, while Taekwoon was a noodle with twigs for limbs. Wonsik didn't have the same glowering face that came naturally to Taekwoon, but he was intense in his own way, like he could break your bones if he really had to. Until Sanghyuk had finally hit puberty and turned into a giant tree, Wonsik was definitely the scariest member among them by looks alone. He'd added a few tattoos and piercings since graduation and bulked up even further. He'd never be Sanghyuk big—no one would—but he definitely had sketchy club bouncer vibes that Jaehwan wouldn't want to cross. Looks aside, Wonsik was basically a giant teddy bear and kinder and sweeter than anyone, ever.

These days, Wonsik was busy. He'd gone from being an up-and-coming hip hop artist to the CEO of his own label, with enough royalties from all the songs he'd written to buy a new car a month, probably. Jaehwan didn't actually know how much money Wonsik made, but it was enough. So it was a bit of a surprise to have him sitting at Jaehwan's kitchen table, looking like fresh roadkill that'd been just hauled out of bed.

"I could've gone to your studio," Jaehwan said, grabbing water from the fridge. It was early afternoon, but Wonsik looked like he'd lost track of time. "You want coffee?"

"Sure," Wonsik said, stifling a yawn. "You got that fancy machine, might as well use it."

"You could just get your own," Jaehwan said. He grabbed a cup and jammed the quick brew button on the espresso maker, which had been set to Wonsik's preferences ages ago.

"Nah, I'm not home enough to use it," Wonsik said, which was probably true.

"So what do I owe this pleasure to?" Jaehwan asked. He shoved the steaming mug of coffee in front of Wonsik's face, and then plopped down across from Wonsik with his own glass of water.

"Collab," Wonsik said. "What'd you say?"

Jaehwan's eyebrows shot up. "I'll need some more details than that but have I ever said no?"

Wonsik buried his face in his mug for a few seconds, like inhaling the steam would get the caffeine into his bloodstream faster. He'd probably been working through the night again. Wonsik worked hard.

"Yeah, but it's more of a favour than usual," Wonsik said, finally putting the coffee down but looking no more awake.

"Not really selling it," Jaehwan said.

Wonsik sighed, and then scrolled through his phone for a few moments before sliding it over to Jaehwan. "Not with me, this time. I've got a new artist, good kid, he's got talent, but stubborn so he's stepped on a few toes."

"I've worked with worse," Jaehwan said absentmindedly. He hit play on the track Wonsik had opened, gaze softening as he listened. Wonsik always sang his own guide vocals—he had a surprisingly good voice for a rapper. The lyrics were generic, but the song itself had a beat and chorus that Jaehwan knew without a doubt would send it to the top of the charts.

"Bribing me with good music?" Jaehwan asked. He hit pause before it could repeat. "It's not my usual thing."

"I know," Wonsik said, slumping a little.

"Not that it's bad!" Jaehwan quickly followed up with. "Just different."

"Yeah. The original artist pulled out of the project, but I don't wanna just give the song to anyone," Wonsik said glumly.

"And the rap lines were gonna be that new kid?" Jaehwan asked.

"That's it," Wonsik said. Jaehwan could fill in the blanks from there.

He played it again, listening more critically this time. His own style leaned towards ballads—or short features in Wonsik's more hip hop songs. This was more pop song, more dance music—Jaehwan wondered who Wonsik's new artist had wronged to just leave a song as good as this on the table.

"Course I'll do it," Jaehwan said when it was done again. "How fixed are the lyrics?"

"You will?" Wonsik said, perking up with relief. "Thank god, I dunno what I'd have done if you hadn't. Lyrics are up to you like always, if there's anything you want to change just say the word. We could go through and tweak it now if you want—"

"Wonsikkie, as much as I'd like to get to work, you need to sleep. A lot. And maybe shower. I'll even let you crash here if you promise to shower," Jaehwan said solemnly.

Wonsik laughed sheepishly, rolling back his shoulders. "That bad? It's been kinda busy. I was gonna head to the studio but you've really taken a load off, maybe I'll crash for a few."

"There's no bed in my studio so you'll have to do with the couch," Jaehwan teased.

"The sound proofing in your studio is awful," Wonsik said. He grimaced. "Awful for sleeping."

"Take that up with the neighbours, they're the ones who didn't wanna be blessed with my voice," Jaehwan said, pouting a little. Although Wonsik probably meant the part where Jaehwan had glued the soundproof foam up himself, and it'd been an awkward job at best. At least his neighbours had stopped complaining.

Wonsik drained the coffee, hissing when it burned his tongue. He finished it anyway, even though his face was broadcasting in pain. Jaehwan laughed, sipping daintily at his water.

"Alright, shoo, shower," Jaehwan said.

"Yes mam," Wonsik said, and headed off to grab spare clothes from his bag.

Jaehwan watched Wonsik go. Wonsik had left his unlocked phone on the table so Jaehwan scooped it up and took it with him to the couch. His apartment was maybe a tiny bit extra big, especially among his old unversity friends, and the living room was down a short hallway from the kitchen. Jaehwan had turned one of the rooms into a studio, another into a display room, and a third into a gaming slash guest bedroom. There was his own bedroom of course, complete with a deer head mounted on the wall that'd ended up there as a bit of a joke to piss off Hakyeon's design sensibilities. The living room wasn't huge but it was still sizable, and had a very comfortable couch. Jaehwan had gotten in the habit of comfortable couches. From their shared university apartment days.

The memory of that apartment rekindled the awkward feeling he'd been actively suppressing for the past few weeks.

Jaehwan huffed and threw himself onto the couch. He considered Wonsik's phone for a moment before deciding to just airdrop the file to his own phone—Wonsik trusted Jaehwan a bit too much, but Jaehwan still felt weird using someone else's phone when they weren't there.

The lyrics themselves weren't particularly inspired and were probably placeholders, leaving Jaehwan with considerable room. His fingers tapped idly against his leg, playing with the rhythm and the melody line. The general gist of it was good, not too far from what Jaehwan usually did—chasing for a lost love that'd disappeared. Just less sad. He could work with less sad. Jaehwan sighed and threw his head back against the couch. His own upcoming album was a little too sad. A dance track would be a good change of pace. Maybe he'd ask Wonsik what else he had kicking around in that creative head of his, something he wouldn't mind sharing with Jaehwan.

His phone pinged with a notification—only it wasn't his phone, it was Wonsik's, vibrating against the coffee table. Jaehwan squinted at it, and it pinged again, and then three more times in quick succession. Someone really wanted to get ahold of Wonsik.

The shower had stopped, so he figured Wonsik would be out soon enough anyway to deal with it himself. And then another ping.

"Wonsikkie! Get your phone before it vibrates off the table!" Jaehwan yelled over his shoulder.

"Huh? My phone?" Wonsik popped into the living room, hair wet but not dripping. "Who's it?"

"You're not in the habit of getting dick pics—huh. Hongbin." Jaehwan blinked at the string of messages from Hongbin, collapsed into one long notification.

Wonsik groaned. "Yeah, I'll deal with it later."

"I dunno, he seems kinda… pissed," Jaehwan said. "Or excited?"

"You'd know better than me if a new...game? Version? Skin?" Wonsik fished for whatever words he'd gleaned from hanging out with people more worldly than him.

"Can't think of anything," Jaehwan said. He shuffled over on the couch so Wonsik could collapse onto it. Wonsik looked slightly more alive than he had been when he'd walked through Jaehwan's door.

"But man, just thinking about it—you wouldn't guess how many people've asked how the hell I even know you. Shocks them when I say it's from a basketball team."

"Yeah? You're tall enough," Jaehwan said.

"No, it's you they can't believe, just your image, y'know?" Wonsik gestured at Jaehwan, and Jaehwan couldn't even pretend any part of his image screamed athlete. So he just pouted.

"Kinda strange to bring that up now," Jaehwan said.

"Just been thinking," Wonsik said. "With everything that's been going on lately—I mean, Hongbin just now!"

Jaehwan exhaled, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. "You can say it. It's that fucking Taekwoon."

"A bit," Wonsik admitted. "Actually it was Hongbin who mentioned it—I didn't say a word about that! Just the good ol' days in general, maybe getting together to shoot some baskets, play some three on… three…"

Wonsik trailed off, and it pissed Jaehwan off to know why. He hadn't wanted to think about this at all, not anymore. He had work to do for fuck's sake, not reminisce about the past. He was slowly coming to accept that it was inescapable—and that he'd been the one to make it that way.

"Sure, we can probably rope people in, Hyukkie's schedule is pretty busy these days," Jaehwan said. A grin spread across his face, eyes glinting. "Or play a pickup game with some kids."

"Jaehwan, we'd decimate them," Wonsik said with a faint look of horror.

"Nah, I'm pretty out of shape," Jaehwan said, which was true. Wonsik's acquaintances weren't too far off the mark. They might've been starters on a nationally ranked team—but the thing about good ol' days was that they were long gone.

"I'm kinda busy too," Wonsik admitted. Whatever he was about to say next was cut off by another flurry of pings, all from Hongbin.

"Sure you don't need to get that?" Jaehwan asked. "Careful he doesn't call you."

"I don't think he's that pissed," Wonsik said, but he seemed to be getting increasingly unsure. He sighed, and then held out his hand. "Alright, give it here. I'll just say 'm in a work meeting."

"Not technically wrong," Jaehwan said, even though they were just chilling on his couch. He stood up and stretched, his bones creaking. He really was out of shape. And he hadn't even dropped out due to injury.

Jaehwan's arms dropped to his side. Another Taekwoon thought. He really had to stop having those.

Hongbin seemed to have been temporarily placated, judging from Wonsik's deep breath of relief and the blessed silence of his phone.

"Nap time?" Jaehwan asked. "What'd he want?"

"Wake me in an hour. Actually, two," Wonsik said. "And uh, apparently Hakyeon crashed his 'secret lair'."

"You mean the literal parking garage he streams from," Jaehwan said flatly. He didn't really want to think about Hakyeon's reasons.

"Yeah," Wonsik said with a chuckle. He flopped down on Jaehwan's couch, groaning in relief.

"Nighty night," Jaehwan said. He pulled the window curtains shut, knowing that Wonsik was probably already out like a light.

"Two hours," Wonsik mumbled.

"Yup, got it," Jaehwan said.

And then, almost unintelligible and probably sleep-talk: "it wasn't 'cause of you."

It still made Jaehwan stutter in his tracks.

Wasn't because of him.

"Why does everyone think that," Jaehwan muttered. He kicked the door to his studio shut and then fell back against it, which wasn't nearly as satisfying as it could've been given the general soundproofing. He wanted the walls to rattle.

There was only one window in this room, and light barely filtered in from around the edges of the heavy blackout curtains. Jaehwan smacked around the wall next to him until the lights turned on, the room immediately flooded brighter than a clear afternoon day. Jaehwan closed his eyes, and slammed his fist against the soundproofing foam on the wall.

Except it was because of him, because he couldn't have left it alone when Hakyeon had said to. So yeah, all of it was because of him. But he couldn't shake it—couldn't shake the feeling Wonsik hadn't meant this moment, hadn't meant the situation with Hakyeon and Hongbin and this entire mess. That he meant the same thing Taekwoon had meant when he'd said don't put your guilt on me.

Like Jaehwan had any fucking guilt.

He made a beeline to the keyboard, blinking the sudden starbursts from his eyes, but knowing the layout of the room well enough he could've navigated it blind. It wasn't exactly a great keyboard, but he didn't need it to be. Shoved up against the wall. Jaehwan yanked the chair into place and dropped onto it, the legs screeching against the floor as they scraped back. He grimaced at the sound. Wonsik was sleeping, but Jaehwan had patched this room up decently even if it looked terrible, so he turned the volume of the keyboard all the way up. He didn't care what to play—he'd get to the new song eventually—he just wanted to lose himself in the music. He just wanted to play something.

What came out was Wild Flower.

It flowed from his fingers, filling the room, absorbed into the walls. It'd been released in Jaehwan's third year, just before that final nationals game. Hongbin had been obsessed, and if Jaehwan were to be honest with himself, that was the first moment he'd had the thought: maybe music's as good a dream as any. It'd probably been playing in the locker room that day before the game too. Even the first time Jaehwan had heard it, it'd put a lump into his throat.

Without realising, Jaehwan had switched from the melody line to the accompaniment, the keyboard no longer eating up every breath of air in the room. It'd dropped beneath Jaehwan's own voice, tentative and afraid. Only the good memories, only the longing heart. That road you walked away from. Standing still.

Jaehwan no longer knew who was still standing on that road.

From my youthful and glistening heart. My fragile memories.

He hated it—he hated how much he wanted to return to those memories. He'd been young, he hadn't understood the tumultuous path of life, had just held onto the song like it'd get them through the playoffs, and then through the year after that.

Jaehwan let the last words fall from his lips, and then a moment later, played the last note and let it float away.

Without realising, there were tears on his face.

He wiped them away with the back of his hand and squeezed his eyes shut. At least no one could hear him. At least there was no one to hear him. Wonsik could sleep through an earthquake, if it came down to it.

The tears wouldn't stop.

Because maybe it was because of Jaehwan, but it sure as hell wasn't guilt. Jaehwan swallowed, closing his eyes again. How the hell was he supposed to forget why Taekwoon's ankle had been injured in the first place. When it was because of his ankle that the jump was off. When it was because of that jump that'd lead to the fall that had…

There'd been blood. They'd had to clean up the blood before the game could continue.

And after all that, they'd never seen Taekwoon again.

In the end, it was because of Jaehwan. Wonsik hadn't been on the court that time. And he hadn't been on their high school team. Wonsik didn't know a thing.

And Jaehwan really had work to do.

He didn't think he could deal with his own sad songs when his eyes were still itchy. Easier to work with Wonsik's new song instead. Wonsik had always been good about being useful.

Taekwoon hadn't kept any pictures. He'd wiped his phone and given it to one of his sisters, and shoved everything else into his parents' closet and had them deal with it. He'd then proceeded to move in with his oldest sister to become his nephew's live-in babysitter as he sorted out his life. He hadn't even been the one to sort it out—it was his sister that first got him a job at the local library shelving books because with his leg healed and painful rehab over, the doctor wanted him to spend more time on his feet, walking, if nothing else. You can still walk. So do it. Don't waste your luck. Taekwoon hadn't felt very lucky, even with everyone around him saying it could've been worse. Everything could always be worse.

Taekwoon arranged the blankets more comfortably around himself, keeping an eye on Sir Hopples running circles through the kitchen table legs. The laptop was balanced on his knees, and Taekwoon's toes curled against the edge of the couch as he slouched back against the cushions. He hadn't kept any pictures, but that didn't mean he couldn't open youtube and search for Lee Jaehwan. Taekwoon bit at his lip, picked one of the tens of thumbnails at random and hit play.

Jaehwan had always liked to sing.

Taekwoon closed his eyes, that moment of Jaehwan lifting the microphone with that intense gaze directed towards the camera already burned into his mind. And even through the muffled quality of the laptop speakers, Jaehwan's voice was beautiful. This wasn't him belting out show tunes at the crack of dawn, or quietly singing as he meandered around the kitchen on lazy weekends off, rotating through songs that even their parents considered classics and theme songs of morning kids cartoons. This was Jaehwan pouring his heart out into this song that was his own, lyrics that were his own, a melody that struck deep into Taekwoon's heart that had been formed under Jaehwan's touch.

He wished he'd told Jaehwan that: you've done well. His throat had choked on those words. Listening now to Jaehwan's voice, that regret struck him so deeply he felt sick, his stomach churning.

It wasn't like he made a habit of it. Don't you want to know what I'm doing? Jaehwan had asked, pouting cutely. It was usually his middle sister: that Lee Jaehwan's new song— before the eldest cut her off with a single look, a slight tilt of her head towards Taekwoon who was immediately immersed in whatever snack he was eating, or the TV show on in the background. Less common was Cha Hakyeon released a new book, he's gotten very handsome.

Cha Hakyeon. The song came to a close. Taekwoon slammed the lid of the laptop shut before it could autoplay. Immediately regretted it, because it'd greet him next time. Maybe he'd just restart the laptop entirely. Or burn it. He didn't know where he could do that.

He hated how Hakyeon still took his breath away.

Taekwoon sighed deeply and tossed his laptop off to the side, making sure it slid safely to the couch side of the blankets and not to the floor. It wouldn't be the first time. He'd been doing his best not to think of Hakyeon. Not to think about how beautiful—handsome—he'd become. Polished. Put together. It just made Taekwoon sure he'd done the right thing, he would've only held him back. He sighed again and rolled over onto his side. As an afterthought, he grabbed one of the blankets and dragged it over his head, forming a nice, safe blanket cave-pod, just dark enough that when Taekwoon opened his eyes, all there was was a fuzzy blackness. He wished he could just hide here forever.

Not think about Hakyeon and his beautiful face, his strong jaw, cheekbones, the long line of his neck, laughing eyes and tan skin, except all there'd been in Hakyeon's eyes that day had been hurt and betrayal. How desperate Hakyeon had been fumbling for something to write a phone number on, balancing a cup of coffee in his hand, the strong fingers that had once effortlessly controlled a basketball still just as strong. Hakyeon could've walked out of a magazine, in a proper coat and windswept hair. Taking that crumpled note was the least Taekwoon could've done. Hakyeon didn't need someone like him in his life.

No, it was easier not to think of Hakyeon. Otherwise he'd only think about Hakyeon. Call him, Jaehwan had said. Taekwoon clutched the blanket in his fist, winding the fabric around his fingers. Please. Taekwoon wanted to forget that too. Just live the life he'd been living, drifting between coaching the team, teaching his kids, spending time with his family and taking care of Minyul on weekdays when his parents weren't here. Taekwoon didn't need anything else. He didn't need to be happy. He just wanted to be content.

Even if Jaehwan was right. Taekwoon refused to let anything else impose on that life. The life he'd built so carefully, within the glass walls of a precious terrarium. Especially his past. The past had no place in the present.

You don't love basketball anymore. Jaehwan had said that too, and Taekwoon couldn't forget feeling that old, forgotten ball deflate in his grip. He needed basketball. That was all he had, and he didn't need Jaehwan coming in and messing it all up, like a pig rooting for truffles.

He hated it, and he hated the prickling at his eyes, he hated the tears that had started falling down his face that he refused to wipe away, because that would mean acknowledging them. He hated that those thoughts would always be followed by these tears. He hated crying. He hated the aching loneliness needling at his skin, running up his arms and across his shoulders and slowly covering his entire body. He didn't need this. He was content. The tightness in his muscles. The blotchy redness of his face.

He had his family and he had his nephew's rabbit, why couldn't that be enough?

Taekwoon had pulled the blanket tighter around himself and it was no longer a safe pod, instead so tight he'd trapped himself within its confines, tight enough that he couldn't move. He hated crying, it made his eyes hurt, but even with his eyes squeezed shut he could see Jaehwan's disappointment, Hakyeon's hurt, but also blindingly bright smiles and soft cheeks and ruffled sweaty hair and laughter tugging at his own mouth because Jaehwan was blinding sunshine and Hakyeon was the brightest summer day. He could close his eyes, but he couldn't make them go away. He wanted them gone. He wanted them forgotten. He wanted.

He wanted something he could never have.

He wanted to stop crying. Wanted to breathe. Wanted to stop hurting, even if that hurt was from inside him, not his shattered knee, the broken bone, the torn muscles. He couldn't even make this hurt go away. No amount of morphine or time would make it disappear. He hated himself for taking those smiles away, and replacing them with the anger Jaehwan had reappeared with, the shock on Hakyeon's face that'd slowly morphed into dismay. If it weren't for him, their bright present and futures wouldn't have been interrupted by that blight of darkness. Jaehwan as a successful singer, Hakyeon as a successful writer. Hakyeon had never planned on pursuing basketball. Hakyeon had kept playing, because he and Taekwoon were a team, and with Jaehwan they were an unbreakable trio.

He wanted it back.

What he'd said to Jaehwan he should've said to himself. The dream was just that, a dream. Impossible. Maybe he should do what Jaehwan had asked. Jaehwan had been so desperate, pleading. Taekwoon was reluctant, refusing, but what could he do if it was Jaehwan that asked it of him? He'd never been able to tell Jaehwan no. Walk away, maybe, but he'd inevitably do it anyway.

By the time Taekwoon summoned the courage to untangle himself from the blankets, Sir Hopples had fallen asleep sprawled out on the floor. It made Taekwoon smile, even if his eyes were burning. Rabbits lived blessed lives.

The presence of the phone—a compromise with his parents when he insisted on going off the grid—was vivid and unabating behind him. The phone and that smoothed out crumpled receipt. With really fucking familiar handwriting on it, even if it was messy. It was only a few digits off from his dad's number. Taekwoon jabbed the number in to the handset and hit call before he could back out—

—what was he doing?

Taekwoon stared at the phone in horror, at the pulsing ringtone, at the ringtone ending—

He dropped the phone back into the receiver, blessed silence returning. What was he doing? Taekwoon pulled his legs to his chest and buried his face against his knees, feeling the dampness quickly soak through his sweatpants. He'd been about to call Hakyeon. Hakyeon, the person he could face the least. The person he wanted least to know what sort of person Taekwoon had become. The person that Taekwoon least wanted to disappoint. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, and wished he'd ignored everyone who said he needed some sort of phone. He had a laptop. Why would he ever need to talk to people? He'd never liked talking to people.

The phone suddenly rang. He never liked picking up the phone, but either it was family or telemarketers, and the number didn't seem like a telemarketer. It seemed familiar so Taekwoon picked it up without thinking too much.

"Hello?" He put his scratchy voice down to being tired.

"Yes, hello, I received a call from this number and… Taekwoon?"

Taekwoon froze, because he knew that voice. He'd made a mistake. He hadn't hung up fast enough. He should drop the receiver, press end call, anything but hold it stone stiff next to his ear. Hakyeon had called him back.

He could deny it, but the longer his silence drew on the more damning it became.

He could hang up, but his hands wouldn't move.

"Hakyeon," Taekwoon said, and he knew Hakyeon would hear it clearly no matter how soft, how raspy, how rough his voice was. Because Hakyeon would have his phone pressed to his ear. It was a familiar number, because he'd just dialed it himself.

"I… You hung up," Hakyeon said. Taekwoon could almost see him struggling for words, something that hadn't happened very often. Taekwoon nodded, even though Hakyeon couldn't see.

"Thank you for calling," Hakyeon said.

"Jaehwan said to," Taekwoon mumbled into the stretch of silence that followed.

Hakyeon's laugh was a little awkward, a little sad.

"Yes, you never could say no to him," Hakyeon said. Taekwoon didn't like that sadness. He wished he could take those words back. But he couldn't think of anything else to say.

All of a sudden, the pang of longing struck him like a knife in his chest, dragged all the way up to his throat, down to his belly. How couldn't it, when he was hearing the voice he most dreaded and most missed? His fingers dug into his palm.

"Jaehwan said you were doing well," Hakyeon said. "I'm glad."

"Did he?" Taekwoon couldn't stop himself from asking. A brief pause cast doubt on that truth.

"You're a coach now," Hakyeon said instead.

"I guess," Taekwoon said.

"I hope you're not as strict as old Coach," Hakyeon said, laughing a little. "I don't think anyone could be."

"I want them to have fun," Taekwoon said.

"It was fun," Hakyeon said.

"You don't play anymore?" Taekwoon asked.

"You'd run circles around me," Hakyeon said ruefully. "It's hard to get people together to play. Especially Wonsik and our little Hyukkie—ah, you don't know this, Wonsikkie is a big music producer these days! And Hyukkie—"

"Is a doctor," Taekwoon finished.

"Jaehwan told you? I'm not surprised, he's prouder of Sanghyuk than Sanghyuk's own parents. And Hongbin… I don't understand what Hongbin does, something with computer games but it makes him happy, I think? He keeps trying to explain it to me but quits and calls me an 'old fart' halfway through." Hakyeon huffed, transmitting enough annoyance over the phone that Taekwoon could see Hakyeon's disgruntled face.

"And Jaehwan?"

"I would've thought he'd sung you every song he's ever written and even some he hasn't," Hakyeon said with a laugh. "He's even more popular with the girls than he was—you'd get so jealous every time his cheer squad showed up at games because he'd be blowing them kisses, and do you remember how scared those girls were of you?"

Yes, Taekwoon remembered. And then on the bench between quarters Jaehwan would talk about blowing something else once they were home. Even if it earned them a stink-eye from Hakyeon every time, and maybe their captain back in second year when Hakyeon hadn't been captain yet. A small bubble of laughter escaped at the memory before Taekwoon could smother it.

"I didn't scare them," Taekwoon said. He didn't remember if he did or didn't, he didn't think he would.

"Well that's what Jaehwan's up to. He brought it up the other day, we might find some time to play one-on-one. Hongbin's practically nocturnal these days and Wonsik still doesn't find the time to sleep."

"And you?" Taekwoon found himself asking. "You always talk about yourself the most."

"I do not," Hakyeon retorted. "I write. I never planned on playing basketball professionally, but I never planned on being a writer either. Sometimes things just work out like that. Turns out I'm good at it, unlike accounting."

"Your grades were good," Taekwoon said.

"Oh it wasn't the grades, it's just, it was very stifling. Very adult. I wasn't ready to be an adult, I suppose," Hakyeon said.

"Then none of us had a chance," Taekwoon said.

"It was like leading a team of toddlers," Hakyeon huffed. "Very tall toddlers who were very good at basketball, but not a shred of maturity between you. Well the young ones were fine on their own, but put them together or near Jaehwan? And then I got yelled at by old Coach, which you found very funny, didn't you."

"No," Taekwoon denied, even if it had been funny. There wasn't much that'd get Hakyeon yelled at.

Taekwoons eyes were prickling again. It didn't make sense. He blinked, and then squeezed his eyes shut. The morning light still turned his vision red even as he tried to swallow it away. He wrapped his arm tighter about himself, tucked his knees in closer, curled up smaller. Why had he called? Why had Hakyeon called back?

"Taekwoon, are you still there?" Hakyeon asked. He'd been saying something all this while. His voice had washed over Taekwoon, like a blanket from the past, the words blurring into an ocean wave. Taekwoon nodded, knowing even as he did that Hakyeon couldn't see. But he couldn't get words out either.

"Taekwoon? Did you hang up?" Hakyeon asked again. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah," Taekwoon forced out. He bit hard at his lip, shoulders hunching over, fingers digging into his arm. His other hand numb, fingers frozen, holding the phone. He couldn't let go even if he wanted to.

"Taekwoon, you can say no if you want, but… may I visit?" Hakyeon's question was so tentative, it was almost unlike him.

Taekwoon wanted to say no. His lips wouldn't move.

"Not like Jaehwan of course! I told little Sobin I'd visit soon, maybe I could drop by where you work. I wonder if Sobin would like basketball, should I bring her too? Does Minyul play? Well, what I mean is it doesn't have to be your apartment, and I certainly won't hit you like Jaehwan did—he said he's very sorry, I hope he said that to you too. So… may I? It'd be good to see you. See you again."

Hakyeon only rambled like this when he was nervous. Hakyeon didn't need to be nervous.

"You don't have to, but I'd like it. Taekwoon?"

Taekwoon swallowed, trying to loosen his throat. Maybe Sir Hopples would let him hug her. That'd be nice. Hakyeon was waiting for him. If Taekwoon said nothing for long enough, he might hang up.

But that wouldn't be very fair, and Hakyeon had promised to be less destructive than Jaehwan—

"Okay," Taekwoon blurted out. Like a curse had been released, he was finally able to pull the phone away from his ear, press hang up, and let it fall between the couch cushions. His hands were shaking. He needed a long Sir Hopples hug, and then maybe a long, hot shower.

Hakyeon was just about to turn in for the night when there was a loud knock on the door.

"Open the door before I knock it down," Hongbin groused. There was some more banging before Hongbin found the doorbell, and it rang its signature discordant sound.

Bemused, Hakyeon walked over and was greeted by a scowling Hongbin with his arms full with a large paper bag.

"It's kind of late," Hakyeon said.

Hakyeon was dressed in soft flannel pants and a loose t-shirt for sleep, but Hongbin's loose t-shirt and sweatpants were his regular attire. Hakyeon's old teammate and long time friend pushed his way past Hakyeon, ignoring him entirely. Hakyeon sighed magnificently as he closed the door.

"Don't give me that, you're the one who said you 'wanted to talk'," Hongbin said.

"Did I?" Hakyeon asked, before he recalled Hongbin physically shoving him out of his parking garage the time Hakyeon had gone to find him. Right. "It is a little late though, Hongbin."

Hongbin was already parked by Hakyeon's couch, a bottle of wine and some soju spread across the coffee table.

"I had to be sure you were home," Hongbin said. "I wasn't going to make a second trip. Get the glasses."

"The wine was thoughtful," Hakyeon said. He got two wine glasses and two soju glasses, giving them a good rinse first.

"You brought me a fruit basket," Hongbin said. "How old do you think I am, mom?"

"Old enough to know better than to show up at someone's home this late," Hakyeon said.

"I said I needed to be sure you'd be home," Hongbin said.

"And you just woke up?" Hakyeon suggested.

"I took a nap," Hongbin said. His hair looked ruffled enough for it.

Hakyeon laughed dryly, and decided not to ask how long this nap had been. He sat down on the floor opposite of Hongbin, wishing Hongbin would sit on the couch like a normal person. His body was too old to sit on the floor. Hakyeon unscrewed the cap of one of the soju bottles and pushed it over to Hongbin, before doing the same with the wine Hongbin had brought.

"So Taekwoon."

Hakyeon's hand stuttered. It was a miracle he didn't spill any wine on the table. And glass would be easy to clean. The wine bottle hit the table with a ringing thud Hakyeon felt in his bones.

"Yes?" Hakyeon said gingerly.

"Don't pretend that's not why you showed up at my door while I was working," Hongbin said. He poured himself a shot of soju and knocked it back. "If it helps, Wonsik filled me in but he's not always great with the details."

Hakyeon exhaled slowly, crossing his legs and sitting straighter. He leaned an elbow against the table, catching the stem of the wine glass between his fingers and pulling it closer.

"He doesn't know the details," Hakyeon said. Light glowed through the deep red of the wine.

"I thought that's how it'd be like," Hongbin said. "Jaehwan's no good because he's part of all this, and Sanghyuk is too busy for you, so you decided to crash my work."

"I apologised for that," Hakyeon said, biting back the urge to point out that Hongbin had been gaming and how was Hakyeon supposed to know when he was working gaming or gaming gaming—they'd debated that enough.

"And because you don't trust their opinions," Hongbin said. Gentler this time, but coming from Hongbin it was still harsh enough.

"Did Wonsik tell you Jaehwan punched Taekwoon?" Hakyeon asked wryly. "Talking with Jaehwan only makes things worse."

"For you or for him?" Hongbin asked. He filled his glass again but didn't drink it, just ran a finger around the edge. "I've known you long enough—too long. Taekwoon needs to come back so I'm not the one who's known you the longest."

"I think you might still be," Hakyeon said. He laughed at Hongbin's exaggerated dismay. It was true though—Hongbin had been one of Hakyeon's earliest basketball partners. They'd been neighbours. Hakyeon had met Taekwoon halfway through elementary school. That'd been a long time ago.

Hakyeon took a sip at the wine. It wasn't bad, even if Hongbin had probably grabbed the first bottle he'd seen.

"He's a dick, and I don't know why you're so hung up on him," Hongbin said flatly.

"No, that's not what Taekwoon's like," Hakyeon said.

"He's selfish, that's what he is, and you should let him be," Hongbin said. And then he sighed, relenting. "You're worried about him."

"I miss him, Hongbin," Hakyeon said. He took another sip, staring down at the ripples as the wine slid down the sides. "He did call me—he called and then hung up. I didn't know it was him when I called the number back, not until he picked up."

"So you got to talk to him after all. I'm surprised he didn't hang up again."

"I am too," Hakyeon said with a small laugh. "He sounded a little sick, but maybe he was in a better mood."

"Or he didn't want to hang up," Hongbin said.

That was the possibility that scared Hakyeon most of all.

"I wonder," Hakyeon said.

"He's a selfish dick but he's never been mean," Hongbin said. It was such a kind thing to say that Hakyeon's gaze snapped upward to Hongbin. Who immediately grimaced when their eyes met. "He didn't act to hurt anyone on purpose, but that's what happens when he puts himself above you."

"I always thought it was the shock," Hakyeon said. "He was going to go pro—to doctors saying it'd be enough if he could still walk. I just… I thought that we could go through that together, Hongbin, I really did."

"I know," Hongbin said.

Hakyeon blinked and swallowed because Hongbin did know. Hongbin had sat with Hakyeon all those years ago too, when Hakyeon needed to escape from a too empty bed, a too empty couch, a too empty home.

"He asked me if I still played basketball, I couldn't bring myself to say no," Hakyeon said.

"Could always join my friends and shoot some hoops with us," Hongbin suggested. "It might not be your type of basketball, but it's still fun."

"And what would be 'my type of basketball?'" Hakyeon asked, eyes narrowing.

"Planned, orchestrated, smart," Hongbin said, gesturing vaguely at Hakyeon. "Point guard for a reason."

"I did make some smart plays," Hakyeon reminisced. Mostly to get a reaction out of Hongbin, who didn't disappoint with a Taekwoon-level glower. "My type of basketball is also played during the day."

"Can't have everything," Hongbin said. He shrugged. "Night's when the courts are most free."

"You've all become vampires," Hakyeon muttered darkly.

"Find someone else to bite you," Hongbin said. "You're not my type."

Hakyeon snorted, shaking his head at Hongbin. "I'd just embarrass myself," he said.

"Nothing new there," Hongbin said. Hakyeon mimed flicking Hongbin on the forehead, but Hongbin had already leaned out of reach. Hakyeon drank more of his wine.

Hongbin had done this then, too. Show up with alcohol, and when Hakyeon said he didn't like soju or beer, Hongbin just changed the alcohol, instead of giving up. It worried Hakyeon that he'd seemed so despondent he had no choice but drink his worries away. Looking back, Hongbin was just trying the best way he knew how, and the alcohol had been as much for himself as Hakyeon.

Hakyeon had been blessed with friendship.

"So Jaehwan saw him," Hongbin said, bringing Hakyeon back to the present.

"Stalked him," Hakyeon corrected.

"It was Taekwoon—it's more like a very long game of hide-and-seek."

"Stalking."

"It worked, didn't it?" Hongbin suddenly got up, and Hakyeon craned his neck to warily watch him. Hongbin shook his head incredulously. "I'm getting snacks, not snooping on your highly classified manuscript."

Hakyeon huffed, leaning back on one hand. "I'm watching you Lee Hongbin, you better not step anywhere except the kitchen."

"Sure," Hongbin tossed over his shoulder. He was already rummaging through Hakyeon's cupboards and fridge, and Hakyeon was suddenly painfully aware it'd been some time since he'd done groceries. He just didn't have the energy lately. He was behind on editing the almost-final version, and his mind kept going blank for hours at a time.

It'd been a while since Hakyeon had been outside at all—that probably wasn't healthy.

"Ramyun," Hongbin declared, shutting the last of Hakyeon's cupboards. "What have you been eating?"

"Rice," Hakyeon said. "Side dishes."

"At least get delivery," Hongbin said.

Hakyeon smiled to himself and rested his elbow on the table. "Maybe tomorrow," he said. "It's been busy."

"Fans clamouring for your next release?" Hongbin asked. His back was to Hakyeon, standing by the stove. "I didn't know you had fans."

"Hey," Hakyeon protested. Hongbin turned over his shoulder to give Hakyeon a cheeky grin that had Hakyeon shaking his head.

He'd finished the wine, and poured himself another glass after a moment of consideration. Better to drink it than to have it go bad. He shifted, and that old team photo came barely into view. Stretching stiff muscles, Hakyeon walked over to it, taking it off the wall.

"We were so young," Hakyeon said, staring down at it.

"Yeah? Are you counting yourself in there?" Hongbin asked. He came over to see what Hakyeon was looking at—Hakyeon bit back a lecture on stove safety. Hongbin was an adult, and knew how to make ramyun without burning down the kitchen. Probably.

Hakyeon handed the framed picture over to Hongbin and then sat back down. "Almost ten years," he said to himself.

"Yeah," Hongbin said quietly, "we look like a bunch of kids."

"We were a bunch of kids," Hakyeon said wryly. "Including me."

"You and Taekwoon," Hongbin said. The wooden frame scraped lightly against the wall when Hongbin replaced it. So he could check on the stove, like a responsible child.

"What should I do, Hongbin?" Hakyeon asked his wine glass. "Taekwoon said he doesn't want to see us, he told Jaehwan he didn't need anyone else in his life."

He couldn't get Jaehwan's words out of his head—he didn't smile once. If he was happy, don't you think he would've smiled?

"You smile if you're happy," Hakyeon said, just under his breath.

"What, you don't?" Hongbin brought the pot and utensils over, dropping a potholder onto the table first. After a two second stare-off with Hakyeon, Hongbin gave in and went to find bowls.

"I'm not washing these," Hongbin said, sitting down heavily.

"You're the one who wanted to eat," Hakyeon said. Wine didn't really go with ramyun either. He still picked at a few noodles to be polite.

"Your kitchen is empty," Hongbin said flatly, like Hakyeon had forced him into this situation, and therefore absolved himself of all responsibility.

Hakyeon pursed his lips.

"You were saying something about smiling," Hongbin prompted him.

"Was I?"

"I didn't know Taekwoon as well as you, but a decade or two wouldn't make him so cold he'd see you two without a shred of emotion," Hongbin said.

"You mean me and Jaehwan?"

"Who else? You and Wonsik? Yes you and Jaehwan. Even if Jaehwan socked him good. Jaehwan had the right idea—doesn't mean I won't go add one if I ever see Taekwoon's dumb face again."

"Please don't punch him," Hakyeon said. "We have words."

"Sure, but that doesn't get the message across," Hongbin said.

"Please don't punch him," Hakyeon repeated. He felt a headache coming on and it wasn't from the wine.

"That remains to be seen," Hongbin said.

"He didn't say no when I asked to visit," Hakyeon remembered. He hadn't forgotten—he just hadn't known what to do with that. "Should I?"

"No shit," Hongbin said. "And punch him for me."

"I'm not punching anyone, and neither are you," Hakyeon gritted out. "No one is punching anybody."

"Remains to be seen. Why aren't you already there?"

Hakyeon bit at his lip, fiddled with the stem of the wine glass. "He didn't say when or where," Hakyeon said quietly. "I don't know if he wants to see me."

"Well he didn't say no," Hongbin pointed out.

"Maybe he felt he couldn't say no," Hakyeon said.

Hongbin scoffed. "Taekwoon not say no when he means no? I'd believe you more if Wonsik suddenly lost his crush on Jaehwan," Hongbin said.

Hakyeon laughed, tucking his chin downward to hide it. He caught his lips between his teeth because the more he thought the funnier and more inexplicable it seemed.

"You're right," Hakyeon said, when he finally regained his composure. He looked up to Hongbin staring at Hakyeon smugly over a clump of ramyun he was shovelling into his mouth.

"But he didn't say when or where," Hakyeon said again. Hongbin chewed furiously and swallowed as he looked at Hakyeon like Hakyeon was stupid.

"Call him again."

"What if he doesn't pick up?"

"Then bust down his door," Hongbin said.

"I don't know where he lives—and even if I did, that's both impolite and illegal," Hakyeon said. Why did none of his friends have even a shred of common decency.

"Jaehwan does though," Hongbin said.

It was a tempting thought, but Hakyeon refused. He had a reputation to uphold. He'd finished the second glass at some point, and decided against a third. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hakyeon took a few deep breaths.

"What if I just left it alone?" Hakyeon asked no one, but maybe himself. "If Taekwoon wants that, I don't have any right to intrude. Maybe...maybe it would've been better if we hadn't met."

"Do you really think that?" Hongbin asked.

"What?" Hakyeon opened his eyes. Hongbin was sitting back, mouth set in a scowl.

"That it would've been better. That you don't have any 'right to intrude.' The shit he pulled back then—he made a decision for all of you that he had no 'right' to make. Have any of you thought about that? Have you? 'Cause I know Jaehwan's too dumb to, and Taekwoon's too much a selfish, fucking idiot, but you're supposed to have at least a brain cell or two," Hongbin said.

"They're…" Hakyeon trailed off, trying to defend the other two's intelligence. He couldn't really disagree.

"Excuse it as you were kids, but even kids know not to make selfish decisions," Hongbin said, scowl deepening. "Your niece would know better than Taekwoon."

"Sobin is very smart," Hakyeon agreed, and then winced, because Hongbin had just implied that Taekwoon was dumber than an elementary student.

"You'd regret it," Hongbin said. "If you left it alone."

Hakyeon clasped his wrist, hands resting on his lap. He would. He'd been given a chance, and he'd regret it if he left it alone, just like Hongbin had said. And even if he chose to…

"I don't think Jaehwan would let it go," Hakyeon said softly. The metal edges of the bracelet dug into his palm. "I can't choose for Jaehwan."

It was Hongbin's turn to look away. "I think… I think Jaehwan never forgave himself. For something he didn't do."

"What do you mean?" Hakyeon asked.

"Don't play dumb, he thought he's the one who fucked up Taekwoon's leg. With the way Taekwoon upped and disappeared, he never set the record straight. I can't say more, except something changed in him after you two graduated. Not just because you moved out from the apartment, but it was something about the way he played."

"I watched your games," Hakyeon started saying.

"Yeah, but not our practices," Hongbin said. He shrugged, rolling back his shoulders. "If it weren't for Sanghyuk I don't think we'd still have had a team."

Hakyeon looked down at his lap. They'd been knocked out before reaching the nationals the year after Hakyeon and Taekwoon had graduated, in Jaehwan's senior year. Jaehwan had shrugged it off because he hadn't been planning on sticking with basketball anyway he said, and had already fallen in love with music. Sanghyuk had been a first year, just hitting his growth spurt and getting used to his growing body. With Hakyeon's regular grown-up work hours, he hadn't been able to keep up with their games and practices as much as he'd have liked, with the office being almost an hour's commute to the university. He regretted it now, but it was too long ago to regret.

"Our third year in high school, just before the playoffs, Taekwoon hurt his ankle," Hakyeon said softly. "He kept playing and hid it from everyone until he couldn't. The semi-finals. Jaehwan's always thought that was his fault, but I don't know…"

"What's that have to do with Jaehwan? Or that last game?" Hongbin frowned.

Hakyeon laughed softly. "Not that last game. When you said it was about something he never did, I remembered that. It's silly, but Jaehwan and his big mouth got him into a tussle with some other boys in his year. Taekwoon and I stepped in and Jaehwan thinks it was during that. Jaehwan got suspended for a few games for fighting and wasn't on the court for Taekwoon's last high school game. I thought Taekwoon already smacked some sense into him over that."

Hongbin was silent for several long moments, except to pour himself another shot of soju. He poured one for Hakyeon too, and pushed it across the table to him.

"It was a bad jump," Hongbin said.

Hakyeon closed his eyes. He'd been mid court when it happened, screened out, he wouldn't know if Taekwoon had made a bad jump or not, had just seen the crash and fall. A freak accident. He hooked a finger under the bracelet, pulling at the metal band.

"I didn't mean to bring it up. You don't like to talk about it," Hongbin apologised, words mumbled. He sighed, and pinged a nail against the half empty bottle.

"No it's… you're right," Hakyeon said. He looked at the soju that Hongbin had poured for him and then knocked it back. Good decisions be damned. "I'll call Taekwoon and arrange a time."

"Bring Jaehwan with you," Hongbin said, grinning widely. "He can punch Taekwoon in the face for me."

Hakyeon still leaned over and gave him a neck chop for being a total brat, even if he knew Hongbin was teasing.

"Maybe," Hakyeon said. It'd be good to have the support.

He stood and stretched, gathering empty glasses and bottles from the table.

"The bedding in the guest room is clean," Hakyeon said. There was a wine stopper somewhere in the kitchen—he could finish the rest tomorrow, when it wasn't so late at night. The empty pot and bowls he left in the sink, knowing he would regret it in the morning, but he was feeling very tired.

Hongbin stood as well, pushing a hand back through already ruffled hair. "I was gonna call a cab," he said.

Hakyeon thought about insisting, about mothering Hongbin into bed and chiding him about safety—Hongbin was more than capable of taking care of himself. Hakyeon smiled to himself, back turned to Hongbin.

"You can decide, but I'm going to sleep," Hakyeon said, turning back to Hongbin. "Good night Hongbin, and thank you."

"Ugh, just get your grandpa sleep and don't be gross—don't hug me!" Hongbin shoved Hakyeon away, but Hakyeon just crushed Hongbin tighter.

Hakyeon woke the next morning to find that Hongbin had gone home last night because he'd made an appointment with friends in another time zone—and that the dishes had already been washed and dried. Hongbin was a good child.

It wasn't so cold the next time Hakyeon went to see his brother's family and Sobin. Without notice, over a month had passed since that moment in front of his niece's school, when life had turned to the forgotten pages of a photo album. It'd been a long month.

"Uncle Hakyeon! When will you come play again?" Sobin had asked in their most recent video call with her gap-toothed grin.

"Your Uncle Hakyeon is busy," his sister-in-law had reminded her, and then turned back to look at Hakyeon, eyes full of sympathy. "But she does miss you."

Hakyeon looked exhausted in the tiny thumbnail, and that was with the filter turned on. He still hadn't left the house, and Hongbin was the last human contact Hakyeon had had in… some time. So he arranged to go with them to the zoo on Saturday, once Sobin was off school. Laughing with her, running with her—for a few hours, all his worries and exhaustion vanished, spending time with this perfect human being who shared his flesh and bone. His only wish was that his other siblings lived closer, but this was fortune enough.

Hakyeon hadn't meant to stay the night, but conversation had lingered over dinner long after Sobin had been put to bed, and Hakyeon had no one waiting for him at home. He took up their kind offer, had breakfast with a delighted Sobin who made him pinky promise he'd be back soon, before finally leaving into the mid-morning sun. To return to an empty, silent apartment, and a pile of work.

Hakyeon hesitated, and it took him a whole second to step to the edge of the sidewalk instead of being a roadblock in the center. He'd meant to stroll to the train station. He pulled out his phone to check the map. Hesitated.

His finger hovered over the green phone icon, itching to scroll down to recent calls. Maybe Taekwoon was still sleeping. Maybe he was at work. Hakyeon pocketed his phone and began walking again, before he remembered he'd wanted to check the map. For the train station.

He'd given in a few days ago and looked up the basketball school Taekwoon taught at. It was still in his saved searches. He'd been curious, had been surprised it'd been near his brother's home, but not too surprised since they didn't live far from Sobin's school. From Taekwoon's nephew's school.

With a lump in his throat and sand on his tongue, Hakyeon turned and walked the way he'd come.

It was just a short detour. He wouldn't stay long.

The sun was bright, and when he glanced up at the sky he had to blink his vision back into colour.

Just for a moment.

The building was nondescript, grey concrete brick on the outside, a small sign next to the front door. There were a handful of kids hanging around outside the glass doors showing each other their phones, chatting about a movie they'd all watched recently. Some of them had basketball shoes tied to the outside of their bags, tossed carelessly on the ground, and Hakyeon winced, thinking about how old Coach would tear them apart for doing that—not taking proper care of their tools.

He could hear the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor, the mixed staccato of basketballs being dribbled, voices bouncing around an echoing gym. He walked around the building, gravitating towards it. There was an open door halfway down the side-street that bordered the building, and the firm grip of nostalgia drew him forward like a siren's song. For half his life, that sound had been his life.

The class was for younger students. Hakyeon hovered by the door, feeling starkly out of place yet unable to leave. They were Sobin's age, some even younger. About the same age when Hakyeon had started. When Taekwoon had started.

Half the class was practicing shooting, the other half of the court was practicing passing. The basket had been lowered to account for the players being half the usual height and wrist strength similarly underdeveloped. It was an even mix of boys and girls which made Hakyeon glad to see—and while some of the older girls had begun to hit their growth spurts, the boys were uniformly still pipsqueaks. Hakyeon smiled. They'd grow soon enough.

"Are you waiting for someone mister?"

A young voice pulled Hakyeon's attention down to a boy sitting on the floor next to the door. He had a cap on backwards and basketball shorts that went past his knees. His head was tilted all the way up to look at Hakyeon.

Hakyeon crouched down to be at his eye level, adjusting the bag on his shoulder, once again stuffed full of snacks.

"Are you a student here? Do you like basketball?" Hakyeon asked.

"Yup! And it's fun, I guess. What about you, mister?" The kid asked.

"I think basketball is fun too," Hakyeon said. He looked around the gym. There was an older man supervising the shooting drills, but no Taekwoon. Hakyeon hesitated, words dry on his tongue.

"Who're you looking for?" The kid asked again.

Hakyeon thought for a moment. Maybe he'd gotten the wrong place. Maybe Taekwoon no longer worked here. Maybe he was just a creepy stalker, and no better than Jaehwan. But if he walked away without knowing, he'd be filled with regret.

"Mmmm. Is there a tall angry looking uncle around? With eyes like this?" Hakyeon asked, mimicking Taekwoon's neutral face. He internally winced, thinking of at least ten different ways he could've described Taekwoon, starting with his name. The kid's might not know his name, he reasoned.

The kid's eyes lit up. "You mean Coach! He's more like a lame big bro than an angry uncle."

Hakyeon couldn't hold in the laugh, although he did try, pressing his lips together. "He really is like a lame big bro," Hakyeon repeated, laughing again. "Why do you call him Coach?"

"It's what my sister calls him. Or her boyfriend does," he explained, immediately making a disgusted face. "Her boyfriend's on the basketball team, and he's the coach."

It was Taekwoon alright.

"Is Coach here today?" Hakyeon asked, and then suddenly realised he'd never introduced himself. "I'm Hakyeon, nice to meet you."

"I'm Dongil," the kid said, tugging the brim of his cap further back. He thought for a moment, glancing at the clock, protected behind its metal cage up high on the wall. "He should be here soon… I guess he's late. Are you a friend, mister?"

"We were teammates," Hakyeon settled with. Friends, teammates, once-boyfriends.

"Basketball teammates?" Dongil asked. "You're not teammates anymore?"

"University teammates," Hakyeon said. "It was a long time ago."

"Was Coach any good? I've never seen him play," Dongil said.

Hakyeon opened his mouth to answer, but words suddenly failed him. Yes, Hakyeon wanted to say, Taekwoon had been phenomenal. He'd been brilliant. Stunning. Taekwoon was beautiful, but every shot, every dunk, that had been a beauty no one could deny. There was a sudden lump in his throat—he'd never see that again.

"You'll have to ask him yourself," Hakyeon said.

Dongil grimaced. "He never says and just makes us do more drills," he said. "I guess he's not that good."

Hakyeon laughed, because that did seem like something Taekwoon would do. "Are you supposed to be doing drills right now too?"

"No," Dongil said, shaking his head. A small sad look passed over his face. "I sprained my ankle so I'm not allowed to run. That's the fun part of basketball anyway."

"I always liked passing," Hakyeon said. "I played point guard."

"Point guard is boring, I wanna be a center," Dongil said. "Centers are cool! And dunks are the coolest!"

"Point guards are important," Hakyeon said, whining a little. "Ask Coach."

"He'll just make me do extra extra drills," Dongil said. He sighed and got to his feet, shaking out his injured ankle. Hakyeon didn't know how he hadn't noticed the brace.

Hakyeon stood as well, and Dongil barely came up to his chest. Hakyeon wondered how old he was, but he still had a growth spurt in him.

"Be careful not to hurt yourself," Hakyeon cautioned. "Definitely no dunks."

"I know, Coach got really mad at me when I tried a lay-up. Really mad. I'm gonna go practice a bit now. It was really fun talking to you, mister! Oh, and don't tell Coach I said he's just a lame big bro even if he is!" Dongil grinned, extra animated after his break.

"Don't worry, I won't get you in trouble," Hakyeon said. He watched Dongil run off to the basketball cart, curbing the urge to yell after him to be careful. It wasn't his place, and he'd already been enough of a disturbance. He was definitely getting a few strange looks from other kids, and one of Dongil's friends had gone over to chat.

Maybe he should leave after all. Taekwoon was late—maybe he'd be absent entirely. That wouldn't be like him. Or wouldn't have been like him, when they'd been tightly bound in each others' lives.

Across the gym, the door opened, and through those double doors stepped out the person Hakyeon had been waiting for.

Just like all those weeks ago, Hakyeon froze under Taekwoon's dark gaze, that same inscrutable look that Hakyeon could no longer read. Hakyeon hesitantly raised a hand in a half-hearted wave—he didn't need to get Taekwoon's attention, because a tiny ball of energy streaked across the floor and to an abrupt stop in front of Taekwoon. Hakyeon couldn't help but smile as Dongil gestured towards Hakyeon. It was too loud to hear what the boy was saying although he could guess—but it was the way Taekwoon's eyes lit up as the boy chattered to him that tugged on Hakyeon's heart strings. Taekwoon patted Dongil on the head and sent him off to the other kids, this time at a reluctant walk, having been scolded by his beloved Coach. A few of the other kids also swarmed Taekwoon as Taekwoon cut across the gym, and Hakyeon could hear snatches of conversation, asking why Teach was late.

"Playing hooky?" Hakyeon asked with a wry smile when Taekwoon was finally standing just a few steps away. Even in a loose long-sleeve and track pants, Taekwoon took Hakyeon's breath away.

Taekwoon didn't smile, and Hakyeon felt his own falling off his face.

"This is near Sobin's home," Hakyeon said in a desperate explanation, swallowing a mix of disappointment and despair.

"Why are you here?" Taekwoon asked. Quiet to keep from being overheard, and almost too quiet to be heard over the echoing sound of basketball.

"I was nearby," Hakyeon said again. He paused, hunting for words, for an answer, for an apology. Jaehwan told me where you worked. He'd meant to bring along Jaehwan. "I should have called before I visited, I'm sorry."

They were steps apart, but Hakyeon felt a yawning gulf between them. Taekwoon a step up and inside, Hakyeon a step down and outside, with neither stepping out or in. Taekwoon wearing indoor gym shoes, Hakyeon wearing laced up sneakers.

"I wasn't home," Taekwoon said—and it startled Hakyeon so much that his heart jumped in his chest. Taekwoon's eyes were still harsh, but to hear anything but a denouncement of Hakyeon's presence. It was enough.

"The kids said you were late," Hakyeon said. A flicker of annoyance on Taekwoon's face, but as soon as Taekwoon turned to glance back inside, that annoyance softened.

"I took Minyul to soccer. He couldn't find his cleats," Taekwoon said.

"Minyul is so big now," Hakyeon said. "How old is he? Nine? Ten?"

"Ten," Taekwoon said.

"Sobin is eight," Hakyeon said proudly. "She wants to play soccer too, even though I told her basketball is lots of fun, but she wants to be taller first. Did you tell Minyul the same thing?"

Taekwoon shook his head slightly, his expression falling. He hadn't told Minyul to play basketball. Dongil's disappointed face when Hakyeon wouldn't tell him if Taekwoon was any good suddenly came to mind. And then Jaehwan's words, that he didn't think Taekwoon even liked basketball anymore.

Hakyeon didn't want to think that was true.

"Oh—Sobin gave these to me but she gave me too many," Hakyeon said as he dug through the tote bag slung on his shoulder. He found it at the bottom, under a pack of dried squid. Whatever he was looking for was always at the bottom. Hakyeon pulled out the plastic bag of lollipops and thrust it at Taekwoon. "Here! Take some!"

Taekwoon looked as befuddled as Hakyeon felt at his own actions. A different sort of awkward silence descended over them.

"Maybe you can take some for Minyul," Hakyeon suggested. He reached in for a handful and held them out at Taekwoon. Taekwoon stared at the mess of lollipop sticks in Hakyeon's hand before apparently deciding he had no choice but to take them.

"Thank you," Taekwoon said, although he looked more put upon than thankful. Hakyeon bit at his lip.

"I'll let you work," Hakyeon said, taking a step back. "It was good to see you, Taekwoon. I can come later."

"Come back in three hours," Taekwoon said. The words weren't out of his mouth yet when he understood Hakyeon hadn't meant today—he'd meant another trip entirely. It was too late to rescind them, and Hakyeon wasn't going to correct it. Taekwoon was clasping his wrist—as soon as he noticed Hakyeon watching, Taekwoon let his arms fall back to his sides.

"I'll wait here," Hakyeon said softly. "If you don't mind."

A myriad of expressions crossed Taekwoon's face before he stepped back and nodded once. He'd turned a half step and then paused, looking back to Hakyeon. "Come through the front," Taekwoon said. He meant the front door—it was with apprehension that Hakyeon watched Taekwoon disappear from view as he went that way himself, and Hakyeon followed in a parallel path on the outside of the wall in a slight daze. He hadn't been ready to see Taekwoon. He hadn't decided what to say, or what to do.

Seeds of panic began to stir inside of him. It wasn't too late to just walk away, to keep walking instead of turning to meet Taekwoon at the door, but what if Taekwoon hadn't meant to meet him at the door and Hakyeon had just watched him disappear again? If Taekwoon didn't already hate Hakyeon, he probably did now. Barging in unannounced to Taekwoon's workplace—

Taekwoon was holding open the door.

"Hi," Hakyeon said. The kids that had been milling out in front were gone now, so there was no mistake who Taekwoon was opening the door for. Hakyeon was the only one standing on the little patch of concrete right in front of the building with the small but clearly labelled sign.

Taekwoon spared him a judgemental eyebrow raise, as if asking Hakyeon if he was going to come in or not?

Fuck. Hakyeon could look into those eyes forever.

"Right, sorry," Hakyeon said. He quickly stepped forward and caught the door handle the moment Taekwoon began walking back inside. Hakyeon followed more slowly. Hovering outside had been a strange draw of nostalgia. Being inside was like a hammer to the chest. The sounds, the echoes, the smells.

Taekwoon handed him a pair of shoes.

"Those should fit," Taekwoon said.

They weren't new, but they were clean. Hakyeon checked the tag, and either Taekwoon had gotten extremely lucky, or he'd remembered Hakyeon's shoe size. After all these years. A soft smile.

"They will," Hakyeon said. He set his bag down so he could change, and left his own shoes in a cubby Taekwoon showed him.

Hakyeon hadn't stepped foot inside a gym in years. Not out of avoidance—there'd just never been a reason. Now that he was here, it felt like an intrusion. He'd never been like Taekwoon—he'd never wanted to play professionally. Stepping into the high-ceilinged room, Hakyeon felt the weight of memories fall on his shoulders.

"You told the kids you played," Taekwoon suddenly said. Hakyeon jumped a little, and he swore there was a hint of mischief in Taekwoon's blase expression.

"I told one," Hakyeon said warily. "Why?"

"You said you wanted to play," Taekwoon said, leaving Hakyeon to search his mind for that particular conversation. Hakyeon didn't remember much of what he'd said—it was all a blur of muted adrenaline. He must've told Taekwoon about Hongbin's proposal. Or Jaehwan's?

"Taekwoon, they're half my size! And don't make me embarrass myself, I haven't played in years," Hakyeon said.

"Alright," Taekwoon said, and just walked off, leaving Hakyeon to stand very awkwardly against the wall. His eyes trailed Taekwoon as Taekwoon made his way to the other teacher, probably explaining the whole situation that Hakyeon had created. Or just to get some half-court scrimmages started. No one seemed to care that Taekwoon had arrived late, or that some of the kids were whining for a break.

Hakyeon remembered—Taekwoon saying he only wanted them to have fun.

Then why was it that only Taekwoon seemed not to be having fun?

He was holding a basketball, but there was nothing in Taekwoon's eyes. It was like looking into a black hole. If only because Hakyeon had been looking for light. It was because Taekwoon was only throwing a low tip-off, Hakyeon told himself. That was all. If Taekwoon was playing instead—Hakyeon was suddenly afraid to watch Taekwoon play.

"Mister! You're staying?" It was Dongil, running over to stand next to Hakyeon. He sat down and then looked up at Hakyeon, clearly expecting Hakyeon to sit as well, putting the basketball he'd been holding on his lap.

Hakyeon smiled, obliging him. "You can call me Hakyeon," he said.

"Mom would be mad," Dongil said. "She'd say I wasn't being respectful."

"It's alright, I won't tell your mom," Hakyeon said.

"You didn't tell Coach on me, right?" Dongil asked. He glanced surreptitiously at Taekwoon, who was reffing one of the games.

"Of course not," Hakyeon said, mock offended.

"Good, because I don't wanna make him mad," Dongil said.

"Have you made him mad before?" Hakyeon asked. He was teasing, but at the same time he was genuinely curious. Dongil considered this for a moment before he finally shook his head.

"He doesn't really get mad," Dongil said, staring out into space. "He just gets quiet sometimes. It's a little scary—but don't tell him that either!"

Hakyeon laughed at the boy's sudden panic. He couldn't imagine Taekwoon ever getting mad at kids. It was good to know he didn't.

Dongil sighed heavily, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. He looked forlornly at everyone else playing in the gym except for him. Kids bounced back fast, but Taekwoon was right to keep him rested for a bit longer if it was still giving him discomfort.

"I wanna be on the school team," Dongil suddenly said. "I'm gonna go to the school Coach is at, and become a starter. So I have to practice and I have to get taller."

"You don't have to be tall to play basketball," Hakyeon said.

"That's what everyone says, but all the best basketball players are tall," Dongil said. He poked at the basketball a little, watching it move around.

"All the flashiest basketball players are tall. Basketball is a team sport, and without everyone else on the court, those tall centers wouldn't be very good if they couldn't even touch the ball," Hakyeon said. "You'll grow. Even Taekwoon wasn't very tall at first."

"Really?" Dongil asked, eyes lighting up.

"Really," Hakyeon said solemnly. "What year are you in?"

"Fifth," Dongil said.

"You have lots of time to grow," Hakyeon said. He decided not to tell the boy that Taekwoon had already been half a head taller when they were the same age.

Dongil tugged at his cap, taking it off to smooth his hair back before putting it on again, the brim still facing back.

"Y'know, I've been wondering something, mister—uh, Hakyeon? How come you and Coach both have that bracelet?" Dongil asked, pointing at Hakyeon's wrist. Hakyeon smothered the instinct to pull his sleeve over it. He didn't know when he'd started doing that.

He shook it free instead, holding his hand out for Dongil to see. "It looks nice, right?" Hakyeon said.

"I guess. 'Cause my sister and the girls in my class have 'friendship bracelets', but boys don't have those," Dongil said.

Friendship bracelets. Hakyeon smiled.

"Boys can have friendship bracelets too," Hakyeon said. "Boys can have friends, can't they?"

He didn't say that they had been more than friends. That it'd been a promise made when they were more than friends.

Dongil seemed to want to say more, but he probably sensed Hakyeon's reluctance to answer his question.

"What does the English say?" Dongil asked.

"It says to 'be free'," Hakyeon answered. "Your sister's in middle school, right? Taekwoon and I were on the middle school team together. Our elementary school didn't have a basketball team, or we would've been on that one too. Does your school have a team?"

Dongil shook his head. "That's why I gotta practice harder," he said.

"That's why you're here even if you can't play?" Hakyeon asked.

"At least I can watch and practice a little—oh, I know! I'm not supposed to leave without an adult but it'll be okay if you come with me! We have to get our shoes first!" Dongil suddenly jumped to his feet with the basketball under his arm, energised in the way only kids could be energised. Hakyeon glanced at Taekwoon, talking to a cluster of students. Probably telling them things he noticed when they were playing. Hakyeon got much more slowly to his feet and then followed Dongil out, looking at Taekwoon over his shoulder. Their eyes briefly met and Hakyeon gestured that he'd be back. Taekwoon nodded, leaving Hakyeon more at ease. He didn't want Taekwoon thinking he was leaving for good.

Dongil was already waiting for Hakyeon at the door with his shoes changed.

"Where are we going?" Hakyeon asked. He held his bag out of the way as he changed into his own shoes, leaving the borrowed ones in their place.

"There's hoops outside," Dongil explained, leading them down a different hall than the one they'd come from. It lead to a small courtyard, where a basketball hoop was bolted to the wall. There was an ashtray on the steps outside, a handful of cigarette butts discarded in the ashes. Dongil jogged over to the basketball hoop and immediately started dribbling the ball.

"Be careful," Hakyeon said, leaving his bag leaning against the wall.

"I know, I won't jump or run," Dongil said. He stood still and shot the ball, bouncing cleanly off the backboard and into the hoop.

"Not bad," Hakyeon said. He jogged forward to grab the ball before it could bounce off. It'd been ages since he'd last played, so it was a bit of a miracle that his shot not only went in, but didn't touch the rim. Dongil was looking at him like he'd grown a third head.

"Just luck," Hakyeon said.

"You're good, mister!" Dongil said. Hakyeon shook his head and gently passed Dongil the ball. Dongil made his next shot as well although this time Hakyeon's bounced the wrong way off the rim. Dongil grinned at Hakyeon and made his third shot in a row.

"You're good," Hakyeon said, and this time Dongil was grinning from the praise.

Hakyeon was missing half his shots, but each time the ball left his fingertips it felt more familiar, and a little bit like coming home. Dongil was making half of his, even though this net was set higher up than the one in the gym. It made Hakyeon's heart break a little to think about when Dongil would inevitably stop playing—but right now, all that mattered was that the boy was having fun, that basketball was as fun for him as it had been for Taekwoon and Hakyeon.

And at this moment, Hakyeon could feel a bit of that 'fun' revived. He jumped and released the ball with perfect accuracy as he arched back, and the exhilaration that rose when it went in. Hakyeon had missed it.

He was still smiling to himself when Dongil ran to Hakyeon, eyes wide.

"You can do a fadeaway!? That's not luck, you're really good!" Dongil exclaimed. "I wanna try—oh, except I can't."

"You should get... " Hakyeon trailed off, because he'd been about to suggest Taekwoon. Instead, Hakyeon went to grab the ball, tossing it to Dongil. "I'll teach you when your ankle is better."

"It's a promise," Dongil said. "But if you and Coach were teammates and you're this good…"

"He'll just have you do extra drills," Hakyeon warned him.

The boy wilted. "I guess we should go back," he said, glancing up at the sky. Hakyeon didn't know how long they'd been out here either but it had been some time.

"Is your mom going to pick you up soon?" Hakyeon asked. He was much warmer than he had been, and inside felt very warm now.

"Yeah," Dongil said. "She has to get my sister from cram school first so sometimes she's late. I don't mind, 'cause that means I can practice a bit more."

It was such a familiar echo that Hakyeon smiled slightly to himself. With three older sisters, Taekwoon had been more or less left alone with his hobbies. And when it'd become clear it was more than just a hobby, all he'd been given was encouragement.

It hurt to see Taekwoon like this.

To have basketball, and to still be sad.

"Dongil!" Taekwoon's voice raised sharply in concern bounced out of the gym, followed by a Taekwoon himself, eyebrows drawn together with worry.

"I'm sorry Taekwoon—" Hakyeon started saying.

"Don't blame him Coach, I made him come with me outside… sorry Coach, I should've said," Dongil said. He clutched his basketball to his chest like a shield.

"He wanted to practice some more," Hakyeon explained. "Without jumping or running. I was with him the entire time."

"Is my mom here?" Dongil asked, peering around Taekwoon.

Taekwoon nodded and Dongil sighed. He chewed at his lip.

"I made her worry," Dongil said. "I guess I better go."

"I'll come with you," Taekwoon said.

"It's okay, you don't need to explain for me," Dongil said, correctly guessing Taekwoon's reasons. Taekwoon nodded although there was still a tiny crease between his brow

"Oh, and don't forget your promise mister! You have to come again to teach me how to do a fadeaway!" Dongil said, turning to Hakyeon. The boy's ability to immediately bounce back with energy constantly amused Hakyeon. It was a little like Jaehwan.

"I promise," Hakyeon said, "but not until Taekwoon says you're all better!"

Dongil nodded and started to run off, although he immediately stopped and looked guiltily over his shoulder at the pair of adults. He gave them a small wave before finally heading out the door at a brisk walk.

"I lost track of the time," Hakyeon apologised to Taekwoon.

Taekwoon shook his head, and headed back into the gym. Most of the kids had filtered out, although a few older children were still stretching, jostling and needling each other.

"He likes you," Taekwoon said.

"He seems like the type of kid to get along with everyone," Hakyeon said.

"Yeah," Taekwoon said.

The other teacher walked over when he saw the two of them come back. Hakyeon immediately bowed in greeting.

"Thank you for letting me stay and I'm very sorry for the trouble," Hakyeon said.

"No trouble," the older man said. "Taekwoon told me about you. I'm Park Sungsoo, it's good to finally meet one of Taekwoon's old teammates."

A strange look suddenly passed over Taekwoon's face. He mumbled something about having a few things to talk about with the students before disappearing.

"I'm Cha Hakyeon," Hakyeon said, shaking Sungsoo's outstretched hand. "Did he say anything good?"

"He didn't say much, but you'd know better than anyone that's how he is," Teacher Park said. He stepped up next to Hakyeon so he could watch Taekwoon across the gym, who was going from kid to kid.

"We lost touch," Hakyeon admitted. He paused, fiddling with his sleeve. "For a few years. We only reconnected a few weeks ago."

Reconnected probably wasn't the right word, but Teacher Park nodded in understanding either way.

"I've got a handful of old teammates I'd like to see again, but it wasn't much of a team, not as competitive or tight knit. Not like you." A pause. "It's a shame about his leg, I would've liked to see how far he'd gone."

Hakyeon's mouth went dry, and he couldn't stop himself snapping his head around to stare at the older man. And then he laughed softly. Of course any coworker would know about Taekwoon's injury. And probably his background too. His resume, as it were.

"We all would have," Hakyeon said. That familiar sadness was settling in his chest again.

"I saw a few of his old tapes—well, I don't need to tell you about that. He had that rare spark when it came to basketball, I don't blame him for losing it," he said.

That it wasn't just Jaehwan who'd seen it, that it wasn't just Hakyeon, that a stranger who'd never played basketball with Taekwoon could have seen that change—it was an even heavier weight.

"He's good with the kids," Hakyeon said, feeling a need to change the subject. "They all respect him."

"He's not strict on them and he pays attention to them individually. I saw you go off with Dongil. That boy worships him," Teacher Park said. "Not even a year ago it was his mother dragging him here—but you see him now."

"He's only been playing for a year?" Hakyeon asked.

"Kids pick things up fast, even faster when there's someone they look up to, and for quite a few kids that someone has been Taekwoon," Teacher Park said. "He's made quite a lot of difference these few years even if he doesn't think he has. I'm glad he decided to join us."

Hakyeon adjusted the bag on his shoulder. Even the kids that hadn't seemed too keen on basketball were attentive to Taekwoon. Dongil had called him a lame big bro—but they still took him seriously, still trusted him, and still respected him where it mattered.

Some day, Taekwoon would make a wonderful father.

Hakyeon swallowed, looking around the gym, anywhere but at Taekwoon.

"I'll help clean up," Hakyeon said. "It's the least I can do for intruding."

"The kids already wiped the floors, so I just need to lock up. You two must have much to discuss as well," Teacher Park said.

"I suppose we do," Hakyeon said.

He met Taekwoon outside the gym. Taekwoon had changed into jeans, his black windbreaker unbuttoned over a grey t-shirt that hung loosely almost down to his thighs. It was absurd how good Taekwoon looked in anything, even if these intervening years hadn't done anything for his ass.

Hakyeon swallowed, and opted to look at Taekwoon's face instead.

"I owe you a coffee," Taekwoon said. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he was looking at anything but Hakyeon.

"It was a treat," Hakyeon said. "And it was free—but I won't say no."

"I know," Taekwoon said. He started walking, and Hakyeon hesitated a half step before he caught up to walk beside Taekwoon.

"You're good with the kids," Hakyeon said, trying to make light conversation. "I heard from the other teacher."

Taekwoon flushed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "They're good kids," he said.

"They are," Hakyeon agreed. Compliments still weren't Taekwoon's strong suit.

"What did you mean by your promise?" Taekwoon asked, glancing sideways at Hakyeon.

Hakyeon laughed guiltily. "I told Dongil I'd teach him how to shoot a fadeaway, but only when you think he's ready."

"You're going to come again?" Taekwoon asked, staring at Hakyeon in mild alarm.

"Do you...not want me to?" Hakyeon asked, heart dropping. "I know I promised Dongil, but…"

Taekwoon bit at his lip and then shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "His injury wasn't serious. It's better to be careful."

"I didn't mean if you thought Dongil was ready, I meant if you didn't want me to," Hakyeon said gently. Taekwoon slowed a half step at this, and Hakyeon's heart jumped a half beat.

"It's fine," Taekwoon mumbled. He jammed his hands into his pockets and lengthened his stride, leaving Hakyeon half a step behind before Hakyeon quickened his pace to match.

"I'll try to call ahead next time," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon glanced at Hakyeon, his expression too neutral for Hakyeon to decipher how much Taekwoon didn't want to see him again.

"When did you start at the school?" Hakyeon asked.

"A few years," Taekwoon answered after a moment of furrowed brows. Hakyeon could relate—the passage of time had become harder to mark once they were out of school.

"Do you like it?" Hakyeon asked.

Another pause, hesitation, silence, before Taekwoon nodded. "They're good kids," he said again.

"Even if they hate doing drills?" Hakyeon teased.

Taekwoon snorted. "They still do them," he said. His expression softened. "Even if they complain, I think they enjoy it. It's worth it."

What's worth it? Hakyeon wanted to ask. And then worth it for who?

"Do you have to pick up Minyul?" Hakyeon asked.

Taekwoon shook his head, and then glanced at the watch Hakyeon hadn't noticed him put on. The brown leather strap looked good on Taekwoon's wrist.

"I don't want to keep you," Hakyeon said.

"You waited for me," Taekwoon said. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Hakyeon said, smiling at Taekwoon. "And it was fun. Really. Even if I lost to a kid who's only been playing a year."

"Mm." Taekwoon hummed absently, glancing around them. Hakyeon couldn't tell if Taekwoon had heard—the needling Hakyeon expected over admitting a loss never came.

"Do you live with your sister's family?" Hakyeon asked.

Taekwoon shook his head again.

"Do you live alone?" Hakyeon tried.

"No," Taekwoon said. "I live with Minyul's rabbit."

This left Hakyeon so flabbergasted that he nearly forgot they were still walking, and startled himself again when they'd seemed to have teleported a few steps forward. Hakyeon would have classified your only roommate being a rabbit as 'living alone', but Hakyeon needed to surround himself with other humans in a way that Taekwoon hadn't felt the need for.

"Why uh, why doesn't the rabbit live with Minyul?" Hakyeon asked.

"Minyullie is allergic," Taekwoon said.

"That's unfortunate," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon nodded, and took a left turn.

"It gets quiet living alone sometimes," Hakyeon mused.

Taekwoon looked sharply at him. "Not Jaehwan?"

"No, we moved after I graduated," Hakyeon said, accompanied by a sour pang in his chest. "It just worked out that way."

The next few minutes passed in silence, although it might've been less than a minute altogether. Hakyeon rolled back his shoulders and stood straighter, shaking off Taekwoon's disappointment.

"It's here," Taekwoon said, stopping in front of a narrow storefront that only had a single counter for ordering. "The milk balance is good in the lattes, but the mochas are too sweet."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hakyeon said with a small laugh. First Taekwoon looked annoyed and then it seemed to make him smile—and even though this was a Taekwoon that no longer loved and lived for basketball, it was good to see a bit of the old Taekwoon.

The dim lights cast long shadows across the concrete, the pole of the basketball net merging into its own shadow, in turn disappearing into the darkness. A few brave insects brought their evening summer songs into the cooler air of the late spring evening, fading quickly against the background of the sharp staccato of the basketball against the ground.

Under those lights, Jaehwan bounced the ball off the backboard. It rolled off the rim of the net and out. Hongbin neatly scooped up the rebound and shot it in a lazy arc, the ball falling clean through the hoop.

"Really? You missed that one?" Hongbin mocked. He passed the ball to Sanghyuk who dumped it in with a hook shot, facing Jaehwan with a cheeky grin the entire time. His scrawny high school days were long gone, and his height and build were extremely unfair when combined with his basketball skills which he hadn't completely abandoned, unlike Jaehwan.

"I hate you both," Jaehwan grumbled. "Give it here."

"Come and get it," Sanghyuk said, switching to a dribbling position.

Jaehwan darted forward to smack it out of Sanghyuk's control, but his much younger and much taller friend snapped it back to Hongbin.

"Come and get it," Hongbin taunted Jaehwan in a cheery sing-song voice. Jaehwan debated very seriously cursing them out and walking away. He made a mad dash for Hongbin instead. Just as Hongbin knew he would, and was ready to pass the ball right back to Sanghyuk. Which Jaehwan knew he'd do because his friends were assholes. It was easy to intercept it and score with a quick jump shot. Jaehwan caught it before it hit the ground.

"Good job," Sanghyuk said, clapping. "Well done."

"Fuck off," Jaehwan said. He snapped the ball back at Sanghyuk with a hard pass.

"Hey, I said you did well," Sanghyuk said, catching it. He began spinning it absently on his finger. "I mean, you missed the last one."

Hongbin laughed raucously at this, and Jaehwan wished he still had the ball so he could throw it at Hongbin's face.

"Last to twenty buys drinks? Free-for-all?" Sanghyuk suggested. He immediately scored a net like the cheater he was.

"Sounds good to me," Hongbin said, already snatching the ball out of the air.

Jaehwan was friends with a bunch of assholes.

With his head start, Sanghyuk predictably hit twenty baskets first, while Hongbin was still at sixteen and Jaehwan only one net behind at fifteen. He would've easily out-shot Hongbin if Sanghyuk hadn't both stayed in the game, and kept blocking out Jaehwan.

He should've known.

"You should've known," Hongbin said, just to add insult to injury. Jaehwan was too tired to even protest. He collapsed onto the ground, leaning back onto his palms and staring blankly into the sky. Hongbin at least joined him, having the decency to be just as sweaty and winded. Sanghyuk was still shooting lazy baskets.

"You're making me tired just watching," Jaehwan complained,

"I played less than you," Sanghyuk said. He still caught the ball and walked over to them, but looked critically at the ground before deciding he'd rather stand.

"And whose fault is that," Jaehwan said.

"You're just out of shape," Hongbin said.

"I don't want to hear that from the person who plays video games for a living." Jaehwan grimaced at Hongbin.

"You're just jealous," Hongbin said. "And at least I go to the gym."

"He's jealous," Sanghyuk followed it up with. He bounced the ball a few times before catching it again, glancing back towards the net.

"Fine, maybe a little," Jaehwan said. He groaned and sat up, only to lean forward to rest his chin on his knees. Still too tired to stand. His legs felt like jelly. At least it wasn't the sticky heat of summer clinging to their skin. Easier to cool down.

"Not streaming today?" Jaehwan turned to face Hongbin, pressing his cheek against the bony jut of his knees instead.

"Nope. I do schedule time off for myself," Hongbin said. He gestured for the ball and Sanghyuk threw it over. "Not like I have to stream every day to make the rent."

"Ugh, we get it, you're popular." Jaehwan scrunched up his face.

"You said it not me," Hongbin said. He was fiddling with the ball, tossing it and rolling it over the back of his hand, spinning it on one finger and then the other. Jaehwan flipped Hongbin off.

"Don't fight, children," Sanghyuk said. He grabbed his light jacket from the bench he'd tossed it over and draped it over his shoulders. It looked very cool in the half darkness. Sanghyuk was already big and imposing to start with. Jaehwan was jealous.

"I miss when you were small," Jaehwan said. That had been a very long time ago.

"Too bad for you then," Sanghyuk said, choosing that moment to stretch his arms over his head and work out the kinks in his shoulders. And he was standing. He was lucky he was still cute. Not that Jaehwan could do anything when Sanghyuk could physically pick him up and dump him wherever he wanted.

"I thought you were gonna get some of your friends to join us," Jaehwan said to Hongbin, deciding the best way to deal with a giant Sanghyuk was to ignore him. "Were you not popular enough for them?"

Hongbin scoffed and traded Jaehwan the finger from earlier. "Schedules didn't match," he said with a small shrug.

"I like it better when it's just us anyway," Sanghyuk said. He finally decided to stop hovering and sit, face nonetheless molding into disgust when his ass touched the ground. "But your friends are cool too."

"Yeah, but I see them all the time. And my roommate wanted to play Valorant," Hongbin said. "Some dumb excuse about 'not wanting to intrude'."

"Well he's right, he'd be intruding," Jaehwan said. He stretched his legs out, wincing when the concrete was colder against his bare skin than he expected.

"Could've at least played some two-on-two," Hongbin retorted. He stared into the distance, in the direction of the basketball net. "It's been a while since we've done this."

"You're the ones who are busy," Jaehwan said. "Saving lives and playing games."

"You're just a layabout," Hongbin shot back. He threw the ball at Jaehwan, and Jaehwan was struck with a surge of deja-vu when he barely stopped it from smacking him in the face. Jaehwan put all his weight into whipping it right back—and none of it into aiming.

The ball bounced sadly away until it even gave up on rolling and came to a stop, right in the shadow of the backboard. No one moved to get it.

"I dunno, it's kinda neat that both of you turned your hobbies into your jobs," Sanghyuk said. He lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug when two pairs of eyes turned on him. "I like what I do, but it's not what I'd call a hobby."

"Basketball's supposed to just be a hobby," Jaehwan said. It came out softer than he meant it to, more melancholy.

"It is," Hongbin said. He glanced at the ball, discarded some distance away. "Always was."

"Same for me. Being on the team was fine as long as I kept up my grades," Sanghyuk said.

Jaehwan sighed deeply and flopped down onto his face, folding his body in half. "Guess it was just me," he said to his thighs. "And I'm the one that hadn't touched a ball in years."

"Not a single ball? What about balls?" Sanghyuk asked. When Jaehwan craned his neck up to look, there was a leer on Sanghyuk's face to match his tone.

"Fuck off," Jaehwan grumbled. He lacked the energy to muster much more than that.

"You weren't half bad," Sanghyuk offered.

"I wouldn't call that good either," Hongbin said from Jaehwan's other side.

"Fuck you too," Jaehwan said.

"Sorry, you're not my type," Hongbin said.

"Or mine," Sanghyuk added.

Jaehwan really wished he still had the ball. There were two faces asking to be hit by it.

"Since we're on the topic of basketball—"

"And fucking," Sanghyuk helpfully interjected.

"Are you gonna bring it up or do we have to pick up your slack?"

Hongbin said this casually, like Jaehwan hadn't been both dreading it and waiting for it. Like it didn't drain every last bit of his soul from his body. The evening wind was suddenly cold. He wished he had Sanghyuk's jacket. Jaehwan's eyes had closed, but it didn't matter when he hadn't raised his head.

"I dunno what you're talking about," Jaehwan mumbled.

"Uh-huh, you don't know why Hakyeon barged into my stream?" Hongbin reached over and prodded Jaehwan's shoulder. Jaehwan's slap was half-hearted, and Hongbin was long out of reach.

Jaehwan just grunted. He sat up, and his vision went blank from the sudden rush of blood—he'd forgotten to open his eyes. Sanghyuk was peering into Jaehwan's face, significantly closer than he had been. Jaehwan yelped and would've fallen if Sanghyuk hadn't grabbed his arm.

"Now's as good a time as any," Sanghyuk said, and Jaehwan's heart softened because at least Sanghyuk was gentler than Hongbin.

Jaehwan knew what they were talking about. It'd been weeks—months?—and he still couldn't shake it from his mind. Too unresolved. Too uncertain.

"The two of you are a pair," Hongbin said. When Jaehwan squinted at him Hongbin jerked his head in some direction. "Hakyeon begs me to talk and you play dumb. You two should just talk to each other."

Sanghyuk hummed, sitting down next to Jaehwan. Jaehwan leaned over, letting his weight fall against Sanghyuk's solid shoulder.

"I was thinking," Sanghyuk started slowly. "You and Hakyeon never got officially divorced—"

"We weren't married!?" Jaehwan sat bolt upright, shocked briefly into silence. Sanghyuk wasn't laughing, though.

"Divorced, broke up, same thing," Hongbin said.

Jaehwan was feeling very double-teamed.

"Well, yeah, we just…" Jaehwan curled up on himself again, resting his forehead on his knees. "Grew up, I guess."

"That's not what I'd call growing up," Sanghyuk said. "Feels more like running away."

"He's the one who ran away," Jaehwan said, gritting his teeth. He surprised himself with how much bitterness there was, clenching his fists until it hurt from his nails digging into his palms.

"Doesn't change what happened between you and Hakyeon," Hongbin said with a shrug. "And I'm not going to deal with your shit when the two of you can deal with it yourselves. Seriously, if Hakyeon shows up one more time."

"Hey, he got you more viewers didn't he," Sanghyuk pointed out.

Hakyeon grunted with irritation.

"Just because Lily kept asking when my 'handsome friend' would 'guest'," Hongbin grumbled. "Fucking Hakyeon. She sicced her viewers on me on purpose because I wouldn't give her his number."

"Lily?" Jaehwan perked up because if Hongbin was talking about viewers, he meant a fellow streamer. And there was only one Lily he could think of with enough viewers to sicc them on Hongbin. "Wait, like that Lily? Lilypichu Lily? You know—"

"Focus, Jaehwan." Sanghyuk flicked Jaehwan on his cheek. "We're not here about your streamer crushes, we're here about your ex-partners you never divorced."

"You know Lily?" Jaehwan couldn't stop himself from stage-whispering to Hongbin. "If she ever wants a handsome friend to guest on your stream—"

"Fo. Cus. Please." Sanghyuk grabbed both of Jaehwan's shoulders and turned him away from Hongbin. Sanghyuk's eyes were all sombre and serious, and Jaehwan felt it dampen his excitement like a physical weight.

"Right," Jaehwan said, deflating.

Sanghyuk was younger than Jaehwan by enough years that he'd still been in high school when they'd taken that team photo Hakyeon was so fond of. Those years of difference seemed to matter less and less with each passing year, and Sanghyuk had become a warm, calming pillar of strength. He was bigger than Jaehwan now—bigger than all of them. Stable. Steady.

"I want him back," Jaehwan found himself saying to Sanghyuk, and then in answer to a question no one needed to ask: "I want them both back."

The streetlights seemed to be wavering, reflected in his friend's eyes. Sanghyuk nodded and gripped Jaehwan's shoulders tighter for a moment before letting him go. It was disorienting without Sanghyuk's hands on his shoulders and even though Jaehwan was sitting still, a moment of vertigo struck him and he nearly fell without that support.

"Hakyeon never went anywhere," Sanghyuk said softly. "He would've stayed if you'd asked but you didn't, but he was never far."

"He moved for work," Jaehwan murmured, staring at Sanghyuk's knees.

"And he would've commuted to work like millions of other people do," Sanghyuk said. "I was a first year, not stupid. Anyone could tell it was just a convenient excuse."

"Not really," Hongbin said, the most quiet he'd been all night. "Just because Hakyeon never went anywhere, doesn't mean he wasn't trying to run in his own way. And there's at least two people who didn't see it as an excuse."

"Two?" Jaehwan echoed, looking over his shoulder at Hongbin.

Hongbin lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Take a guess who the other one was," he said.

Jaehwan didn't need to guess.

He wanted to be surprised by these revelations, by these small truths that Sanghyuk and Hongbin had waited so long to tell him that it was nearly a decade later in the shadow of an old basketball net cast by equally old lights. He really, truly wished for it but all he felt was sadness. The sadness that his friends had been so afraid to tell him.

Tell Jaehwan things he'd always known.

"Taekwoon still hates me," Jaehwan said, looking down at his hands again. The low light shone dully from his bracelet, so familiar it no longer trapped his attention.

"Hates you for what?" Hongbin asked, brows creasing in a frown. "Punching him in the face?"

Jaehwan coloured. "That was once," he said.

"He's probably gotten over it," Hongbin said. He got slowly to his feet and walked over to the ball, scooping it up and tossing it into the air. It landed balanced on the tip of his finger, and he looked at the other two smugly.

Sanghyuk jumped up too, leaving Jaehwan with no choice but to reluctantly stand. His legs were a bit numb.

"I meant in general," Jaehwan said.

"I think you'd have to do something way worse to get him to hate you," Sanghyuk said. "Like murder his dog or something."

"He has a rabbit," Jaehwan corrected him.

"Oh yeah, his nephew's," Hongbin said. He tossed the ball towards the basket but missed it by a hair. Sanghyuk jogged forward to get it, and collected it in a dribble.

"How'd you know?" Jaehwan frowned at Hongbin, asking over the staccato of the bouncing ball.

"Hm? Hakyeon told me," Hongbin said. He held up his hands for Sanghyuk to pass him the ball. This time Hongbin's shot struck the backboard square, and the ball fell nicely through the hoop.

"How does Hakyeon know?" Jaehwan asked, flabbergasted in another way. He stared at the falling ball but Sanghyuk had gotten to it before Jaehwan had even decided if he wanted to take that first step or not.

"'Cause he talked to him, I would assume. The sky falling is more likely than Hakyeon willingly stalking someone," Sanghyuk said.

"He didn't tell me," Jaehwan said numbly. His blood felt thick as lead.

"Probably slipped his mind. He's got a deadline, you've got a deadline, you're acting like you issued mutual restraining orders," Hongbin said flippantly, catching the ball Sanghyuk tossed back to him again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jaehwan snapped. He ran toward Hongbin and tried to grab the ball, but Hongbin just spun with it, blocking Jaehwan out with his back.

"Be nice to the children," Sanghyuk chided. He stopped Jaehwan before he had a chance to complain that he was older than both Sanghyuk and Hongbin.

"He's right you know," Sanghyuk continued. "When was the last time you actually talked?"

Not since Hakyeon had chewed Jaehwan out for stalking Taekwoon.

"You know what I still don't get?" Hongbin asked, stepping neatly out of Jaehwan's range as he turned back to face them. He nodded towards Jaehwan. "What's so good about Taekwoon anyway? He's a fucking asshole."

"He's not," Jaehwan snapped back by instinct.

Hongbin raised his eyebrows.

"You nearly got suspended for calling him 'a fucking asshole' in front of old Coach," Hongbin reminded him. He tossed the ball back to Sanghyuk, Jaehwan following the ball's arc with his eyes.

"That was…" Jaehwan had about to say that was once but that was neither true nor fair. The near suspension had only been once.

"Taekwoon's… Taekwoon was…" Jaehwan struggled for words.

He was kind. He was strong. He was quiet, and loud, and annoying. He was warm, and had a nice smile.

Jaehwan swallowed, blinking his eyes rapidly against the dust. Or the pollen.

Taekwoon had been a buffer, a sea-break against the world. As long as Taekwoon was around, Jaehwan knew that nothing bad could ever happen. Hakyeon would protect them, but Taekwoon would be the wall that'd break before giving way. Sometimes he'd be too clingy, like if he wasn't hugging Jaehwan or Hakyeon, he'd never touch them again. But he was also warm.

Taekwoon could be afraid, but he'd never let Jaehwan know. But Taekwoon was also an open book and Hakyeon knew intuitively when to hold Taekwoon tight when all Jaehwan could do was a feeble attempt at driving away the sadness.

Sometimes Taekwoon had been sad. He'd get more quiet and then quieted even more, and sometimes he'd lose his temper at Jaehwan who was just trying his best. Sometimes Taekwoon had been moody and it was impossible to tell if Taekwoon was tired, or quiet, or upset or none of those at all.

But Jaehwan knew Taekwoon wasn't trying to be mean. Taekwoon would never try to be mean.

Taekwoon was… warm. Or he had been.

Jaehwan didn't know what Taekwoon was like anymore.

"Taekwoon always tried his best," Jaehwan finally said. It was weak to his own ears.

"That's enough of a reason for all this?" Hongbin scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're falling apart over someone who 'tried his best', but his best was to fucking ghost you—sure, it wasn't just you, but if that's the best he can do, that's not someone I want around again. Ever."

Hongbin pressed his lips together, his eyes a hard slant, daring Jaehwan to talk back.

"You didn't know him!" Jaehwan found himself yelling. "Taekwoon's not like that—"

"Then what do you call the shit he pulled!?" Hongbin snapped back, temper flaring in a way it rarely did, instead of the cold anger Hongbin would pull out at a whim. "You fucking fell apart and I had to watch Hakyeon fall to pieces and the only person he could turn to was me because you couldn't get your shit together. Me! What the fuck am I supposed to do!?"

Sanghyuk walked past Jaehwan to Hongbin, leaning in with a hand on Hongbin's shoulder, briefly blocking Hongbin from view. Jaehwan didn't know what Sanghyuk said but when Sanghyuk stepped back, Hongbin's still stormy face was calmer. Hongbin pushed his hair back from his face and shook his head.

"You hate Taekwoon," Jaehwan said. He'd meant it to be a question, but it came out sad and deflated because Jaehwan had never known.

Hongbin exhaled and shook his head. "I don't. I hate what he did, and I hate what he's doing now, but I can't hate him. I don't get why you and Hakyeon were doing just fine and then all he had to do was show up and it's like these past few years didn't happen. I'm only going to say this once—he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve either you or Hakyeon, and that fucking pisses me off."

"Hongbin," Sanghyuk warned quietly.

Jaehwan's nails dug into his palm as he drew back his focus. Hongbin wasn't quite looking at him, was looking at anything but Jaehwan. "What did you mean when you said you were the only person Hakyeon could turn to?" Jaehwan asked quietly.

Hongbin's lips tightened. He kicked at some invisible stone on the ground.

"You were very sad," Sanghyuk said in Hongbin's place. "Sometimes even Hakyeon needs someone to lean on."

"But there was me," Jaehwan said numbly.

"It doesn't matter, that's all in the past," Hongbin said. He started walking off to the side, grabbing the ball from Sanghyuk's hands as he passed them. "I just don't get why you want him back so badly—why both of you want him back so badly, when that's the way he treated you."

"Because I miss him. I don't need a reason to," Jaehwan said, blurting the words out without thinking. "And…" And he doesn't love basketball anymore. "And there's no one for him to lean on either."

It hurt knowing that Hakyeon trusted Hongbin more than him. Hakyeon and Hongbin had been childhood friends.

Hakyeon and Jaehwan were…

Jaehwan sighed, and flopped right back down onto the ground. It was all so much.

They'd never broken up. It wasn't like they'd 'broken up' with Taekwoon either, but only because Taekwoon had never given them a chance. Just like Hakyeon hadn't given him a chance. And Hakyeon had gone to see Taekwoon without him?

And Jaehwan had just told two of his closest friends that what he wanted, more than anything, was to have that back.

And on top of that, Hongbin hadn't told him he was friends with a celebrity? The world was cruel.

Sanghyuk crouched down next to him, close enough that Jaehwan could lean sideways against him, grabbing Sanghyuk's arm for balance.

"I can't believe neither of you told me about Lilypichu," Jaehwan grumbled. "She's famous."

"So are you," Sanghyuk reminded him.

"Don't remind him or you'll give him a big head," Hongbin called over from the bench. The ball rested on the bench next to him.

"You can give her my number," Jaehwan said hopefully.

Sanghyuk rapped him on the head. "You don't even like girls, don't get her hopes up. Think about giving Taekwoon your number instead. And at least talk to Hakyeon. He already has your number."

Jaehwan covered the top of his head and pouted piteously at Sanghyuk.

"Don't give me that face," Sanghyuk said, flicking Jaehwan on his unprotected forehead.

"I just wanna make music with her! And play Valorant," Jaehwan said. His pout deepened.

"This is why Hongbin didn't tell you, because he knew you'd be annoying about it. And stop dodging the question—are you going to talk to Hakyeon or not?"

Jaehwan deflated and sat back, staring down at his hands. He spun the bracelet about his wrist. He'd worn it for so long it'd become part of him, just as the bead bracelet on his other wrist he'd been wearing since childhood. He'd stashed them carefully away during practice and games because he hadn't wanted to lose or break them in the heat of battle, but there wasn't a real need for that anymore. The metal was warm, but it was always warm. Jaehwan turned it so that the English script faced towards him, and he felt the familiar lines against his finger as he traced it along the metal strip.

"Do you think he talked to Taekwoon about me?" Jaehwan asked his hands.

"How does that even matter?" Hongbin yelled over. "And how would we know?"

"Jaehwan," Sanghyuk said, drawing Jaehwan's attention back to him and his warm, serious eyes. "We're your friends, and whatever happens with Hakyeon, with Taekwoon, whether you break up for real or patch it up for real, we'll still be your friends. But we can't do this for you, understand?"

"How are you the youngest?" Jaehwan marvelled, not for the first time.

"Because you're all dumbasses," Sanghyuk said flatly. "And you and the two old men are the worst of the bunch."

"Hey," Jaehwan protested weakly.

"Alright, it's getting late and I'm on call tomorrow so let's call it a night," Sanghyuk said. He jumped to his feet and offered Jaehwan a hand to pull him up as well. A gust of night air sent shivers through Jaehwan and his hair stood on his arms—Sanghyuk draped his own jacket over Jaehwan's shoulders like the good child he was.

"It's barely past midnight," Hongbin said, but he trailed towards them, dribbling the basketball as he went.

It was a good sound. Jaehwan liked it.

Hakyeon set the tea press down on the table. He still wasn't sure why Jaehwan had called him up and asked to come over, but Hakyeon had heard through the grapevine—Wonsik—that Jaehwan was in a bit of a rut with his latest album. It'd explain why Jaehwan was so antsy, flipping restlessly through channels on Hakyeon's TV while curled up on his couch.

"Here," Hakyeon said, pouring Jaehwan a cup and putting it down next to his beer.

"Thanks," Jaehwan said absentmindedly.

Hakyeon sighed and sat down next to Jaehwan, the couch curving under his weight. "What about a movie?" he suggested. "Oh, have you seen the new Conan episodes? Watch them with me—I keep forgetting or when I do I fall asleep."

"Sure," Jaehwan said. He flipped to another channel.

Hakyeon grabbed the remote out of Jaehwan's hands and set it down on the table. "You can talk to me," Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan turned to Hakyeon slowly like he was just noticing him.

"You went to see Taekwoon without me."

Oh.

"I was visiting Sobin," Hakyeon said, and it was painfully clear how much it felt like an excuse. "I was near where he worked, and he was there."

"And you told Hongbin, not me," Jaehwan said.

"I was going to," Hakyeon protested weakly, "we've just both been busy."

"Yeah, busy," Jaehwan said to himself. He snatched the remote back, and turned the TV to Netflix.

"Hongbin asked me," Hakyeon said. He watched Jaehwan go through Hakyeon's watch history until he found Conan, and picked an episode Hakyeon had actually managed to stay awake and watch.

"Are you mad at me?" Hakyeon asked.

Jaehwan shook his head vehemently. Hakyeon didn't really believe him.

He exhaled, pressing his palms against his knees and getting to his feet. He opened one of the under counter cabinets but when he crouched down he'd forgotten what he'd been meaning to get. A drink, unconsciously, because it was the tiny stash of alcohol he kept for entertaining. Jaehwan was a guest, so Hakyeon grabbed the bottle of gin before he stood. Better than coming back empty handed.

The opening theme of Conan played all the way through behind him. Hakyeon snapped the tab of a can of tonic water, the drink fizzing softly as he split it between two glasses. He was doing it wrong but he couldn't bring himself to care. He just popped in some ice cubes and poured in the gin and called it good.

"Never a bad time for one of these," Hakyeon said. He handed the glass directly to Jaehwan this time, because an unreasonably large number of different drinking vessels with different drinks were beginning to collect on the table. Tea, water, beer, juice.

Hakyeon sipped at his gin and tonic, the bubbles clinging to the ice cubes.

"I played some basketball with Hyukkie and Hongbin," Jaehwan said. He sipped at his drink and then traded it for a gulp of beer, and then grabbed the tea but immediately made a face and stuck out his tongue like an offended cat.

"It's hot," Hakyeon warned him far too late.

Jaehwan made a face at Hakyeon and soothed his tongue with the cold gin and tonic.

"You didn't invite me?" Hakyeon asked.

"Hongbin said not to bother 'cause you're 'not a vampire'," Jaehwan said, mimicking Hongbin's mocking tone a bit too close for Hakyeon's comfort.

"Ah. You played at night."

"Had to wait for Hyukkie to get off shift," Jaehwan said. He was only half paying attention to the murder happening in the bunny maid cafe—maybe Jaehwan had watched it too.

"Did you have fun?" Hakyeon asked.

Jaehwan shrugged half-heartedly. "I'm out of practice," he said.

"Me too," Hakyeon said, laughing a little. "I lost to a little kid who's only been playing for a year."

"Who?" Jaehwan tilted his head.

"One of Taekwoon's students," Hakyeon said. His face softened with a smile.

"And then you met Taekwoon," Jaehwan said.

"Yes," Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan frowned, pulling his legs onto the couch and curling into himself. "Is it all really 'cause he broke his leg?" Jaehwan asked tentatively, his voice small. "Just 'cause he couldn't play basketball for a bit?"

Hakyeon's eyes fell shut, and he let his hand rest on Jaehwan's thigh. "If it was just 'for a bit', it'd be different, I think. Yes, he might have been able to keep playing after he recovered, after enough rehab, but never professionally. And you know how Taekwoon was."

"Stubborn," Jaehwan replied.

"Yes, stubborn," Hakyeon said.

"But he didn't have to leave," Jaehwan pushed. "And when I saw him, it was like…"

Jaehwan trailed off, wrapping his arms around his legs and pulling them close to his chest. Chewed at his lip. Glanced at Hakyeon.

"It was like?" Hakyeon prompted.

"Like he didn't know how to live," Jaehwan said. "It's weird, I dunno, like it was still yesterday for him, didn't you feel that too? Like just because he could dribble or shoot, it didn't make it better. I just… I loved basketball too, I wanted to go pro too, but there's always something else you can do. And he still could've played a bit, with us."

Everything Jaehwan was saying was true, but maybe he didn't realise just how true. Hakyeon exhaled, his eyes still closed against the light. The TV was still on in the background, but even at a normal volume, the sound seemed to be fading away.

"We didn't know that then. The doctors warned he might never walk properly again, and even if he could it'd be a long journey of rehab, and they would've told him the same," Hakyeon said.

"But even so! It's not like there's nothing else!" Jaehwan said, his voice breaking a little.

"Jaehwan, imagine if one day you woke up deaf and mute," Hakyeon said, and it was a cruel, cruel thought. "What would you do if your music was completely taken away?"

"I'd kill myself," Jaehwan said, and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth when he realised what he'd said.

Hakyeon nodded.

"I get your point, but I'd still find something else," Jaehwan said. "I wouldn't just leave, I wouldn't just give up."

"Remember? You said it yourself. Taekwoon's stubborn," Hakyeon said.

The wrinkle between Jaehwan's brows deepened.

Hakyeon sighed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. The ashes of a memory he thought he'd burned away floated through his thoughts. Of a time when there'd been no Jaehwan. When they'd been nothing more than kids who no longer felt like kids, and had everything to prove. They'd been in middle school, and they hadn't even been starters yet. A mid-air collision with a teammate during a scrimmage, and then Taekwoon was out for a few weeks with a torn shoulder.

But that hadn't been it. That hadn't been why Hakyeon had burned it. It was the memory of drowning in his own helplessness, even as he watched Taekwoon drown.

He didn't smile once.

That was how it'd been for months and months, long after he'd recovered, long after he'd rejoined the team. Even after they'd been named starters. And the most Hakyeon had been able to get from him beyond silence or the shake of a head, was a small, terrified I don't know what's wrong. The difference was that back then, at least when they were playing, there'd be a spark of life in Taekwoon's eyes. But as suddenly as it'd begun that dark cloud had vanished, and like a compressed spring that'd been released, Taekwoon was so vibrantly restless he was like another person altogether. Teenagers were always moody, they all had slumps, and Taekwoon again loved and lived for basketball. It'd been enough.

And Taekwoon was stubborn. He wanted to win, and he'd work twice, three times, a hundred times as hard as anyone else just to prove it. They'd been so young.

"Taekwoon is strong," Hakyeon said quietly to the ceiling. He sighed again and sat up, the room spinning faintly when he did. He pat Jaehwan on the shoulder. "Maybe you can ask him about it some day."

Jaehwan nodded to himself although Hakyeon couldn't say why. He reached for the remote and restarted the episode, glancing at Jaehwan to check that it was okay. Jaehwan settled back against the couch and they finally turned his attention back to the TV, where a frying pan had just become a very effective murder weapon. It was nostalgic and comforting all at once, especially when Jaehwan leaned against him, heavy and drowsy.

Hakyeon didn't know who'd fallen asleep first—him or Jaehwan, but when he blinked again, Jaehwan was fast asleep against him, and they were three episodes into a kidnapping-turned-murder on a deserted island case. Hakyeon rubbed at his eyes and hesitated to wake Jaehwan.

It had been evening when Jaehwan arrived, and it was deep night now. He should at least wake Jaehwan to sleep on a bed instead of awkwardly on a couch, but Hakyeon was still tired himself and leaned against the back of the seat.

"Hakyeon?"

Jaehwan's voice jerked Hakyeon awake—he'd fallen asleep again, because on the TV they'd already identified two suspects. Jaehwan was leaning over Hakyeon and squinting at him sleepily.

"I was more tired than I thought," Hakyeon said.

"Me too," Jaehwan admitted. "I think I missed the end of that case."

"Do you want to go back?" Hakyeon asked.

Jaehwan shook his head and reached for his now cold tea. "I watched it before," he said.

Hakyeon smiled to himself. As he'd thought.

"I'll make up the guest room for you," Hakyeon said. He'd just started to stand when Jaehwan yanked him back down and Hakyeon fell with a surprised grunt.

"Jaehwan?"

"Don't go," Jaehwan said. "I'm not sleepy yet."

"I think we're both sleepy," Hakyeon said, prying Jaehwan's hand from his arm. Jaehwan let go but only to wrap both arms around Hakyeon's waist, burying his face in Hakyeon's side. Hakyeon froze—nostalgic and unfamiliar, because it'd been so long. Because it'd so often been someone else.

"What are you doing Jaehwan?" Hakyeon asked softly. He brushed Jaehwan's bangs out of his eyes.

"Hyukkie said something—we never got divorced," Jaehwan said.

Hakyeon sat back to stare at Jaehwan, or he tried, because Jaehwan was grabbing him too firmly for Hakyeon to move.

"We weren't… married?" Hakyeon said slowly.

"That's what I told him," Jaehwan said. "Then Hongbin said divorced and break up was the same thing."

"They're a little different," Hakyeon hedged.

"Maybe," Jaehwan said. "But we didn't. They're right. Why didn't we?"

"Jaehwan-ah, why are you bringing this up now?"

"'Cause I keep thinking about it, and I keep thinking about you, and I keep thinking about Taekwoon, and 'cause Hongbin said he doesn't want you barging in on his stream again."

Hakyeon choked out a laugh, because that was exactly something Hongbin would say.

"Hongbin was very upset," Hakyeon said.

"Why'd you go to him?" Jaehwan asked. He loosened his hold just enough so he could crane his neck up to look at Hakyeon. "Why didn't you find me?"

Hakyeon swallowed and smoothed his fingers through Jaehwan's hair. "You were dealing with enough," Hakyeon said.

"I'm not talking about—" Jaehwan cut himself off and he frowned.

"Not talking about what?" Hakyeon prompted.

"Not talking about back then, but you're not talking about back then either," Jaehwan said. "But maybe I'm not talking about now."

Hakyeon laughed softly, massaging the back of Jaehwan's neck. "You've always been dealing with enough," he said. "Is that why you're upset at me?"

"I'm not mad at you." Jaehwan said. He pushed his head against Hakyeon's side. "I just… Were you really running away?"

"I don't remember doing something like that—"

Hakyeon's next words disappeared at the touch of Jaehwan's lips against his. Hakyeon was stunned into silence, his body too rigid to push Jaehwan away.

He didn't want to push Jaehwan away.

"Then why did you leave?" Jaehwan asked, his eyes wide, leaning so close their noses touched.

"Jaehwan, we should go to bed," Hakyeon said shakily. "You're tired."

"We never broke up, you just left," Jaehwan said.

"I moved out," Hakyeon said, but the conviction he used to force into those words had been punctured the moment Jaehwan had asked that question. Were you really running away?

"Because you didn't like me anymore? Or because Taekwoon was gone, and I never mattered to you—"

"Shh, it's alright." Hakyeon cut Jaehwan off and held him tight, whispering soothing sounds into Jaehwan's hair. The touch of Jaehwan's lips on his lingered, and Hakyeon felt the ache in his chest like a physical vice. "Never think such a thing, Jaehwannie, it's never been like that."

"Then why'd you leave once Taekwoon was gone, why'd you leave me alone?"

Jaehwan's voice broke on that last word, and Hakyeon had no answer for him, no answer for Jaehwan's tears he could feel through his shirt. It'd been so many years ago and that year had been such a blur, that Hakyeon wondered the same thing himself.

"I don't know," Hakyeon said. "Maybe I thought you wanted space."

"Why'd I want something like that!?" Jaehwan pulled out of Hakyeon's hold, and his eyes were tell-tale red and glistening.

"I—I don't think I was good for you," Hakyeon stammered.

"You never asked me!" Jaehwan bit at his lip, like he was trying to control his outburst, like he was trying to control himself in any way he could.

"But I did, and you said it was alright," Hakyeon said, and he felt a cloud of bewilderment because he remembered that. Remembered Jaehwan's detached 'alright' when Hakyeon had said, 'I should move closer to work' because he was working across town. Because he remembered that crushing disappointment, he remembered the choking lump in his throat, he remembered turning away so Jaehwan wouldn't see all that on his face.

And because Jaehwan had been alright, Hakyeon had taken himself out of the picture to give Jaehwan the space he wanted.

Jaehwan didn't remember this.

Jaehwan only remembered being alone.

Jaehwan only remembered having no one to go home to, having no one to go home with. Having no one to come home to him.

So Hakyeon kissed him.

It was tentative and Hakyeon couldn't help but feel the mistake, taste it in Jaehwan's tears that had started streaming down his face. The absurd thought that he hadn't been drinking enough water, that he'd misplaced his chapstick, that his lips were probably cracked and dry—a laugh bubbled up unprompted and unwanted and slipped through his own and between Jaehwan's parted lips. Like Jaehwan was as startled as Hakyeon had been. Like Jaehwan didn't know if this was what he wanted.

Hakyeon kissed him slowly, waiting for Jaehwan to pull back at any moment, waiting to apologise for his mistake. He kissed Jaehwan who tasted like tears but whose lips were soft. He held Jaehwan gently, his hands resting on Jaehwan's waist so all Jaehwan needed to do was sit back, to turn away.

Jaehwan didn't move. His hands clutched at Hakyeon's shirt but he didn't move. His lips parted like a silent sound of surprise, but he didn't kiss Hakyeon back.

Yet when Hakyeon, terrified and afraid, began to sit away, Jaehwan's fists clenched tighter and bunched Hakyeon's sleeve and the side of his shirt until the fabric was taut.

And Jaehwan's eyes were shining in the lamp light, but nothing in them said 'go away' or 'leave me alone'.

"We shouldn't do this," Hakyeon found himself saying, and he didn't mean to say it, he didn't want to say it, because he didn't want to see the waver in Jaehwan's tight cheeks. "We should talk tomorrow, when we're awake and can think clearly, and we've both had something to drink—"

"Fuck your thinking," Jaehwan hissed. "When has your thinking ever been right?"

Hakyeon opened his mouth and then he closed it, and then Jaehwan was straddling his lap and his weight was pressed into Hakyeon's shoulders.

"You're not thinking clearly," Hakyeon tried to say. He got half those words out, maybe less, the rest of them smashed to pieces when Jaehwan surged forward.

If Hakyeon had been hesitant, Jaehwan was greedy.

Jaehwan tasted of tears but also a bitter mix of juice and alcohol and he pushed up against Hakyeon until Hakyeon was pushed back against the wall. Hakyeon's eyes closed but he could see Jaehwan through touch alone, fingers brushing against Jaehwan's cheek, other hand gripping the sharp jut of Jaehwan's elbow. Hakyeon's heart pounded, breath taken away both by the wet heat of Jaehwan's mouth and the weight of Jaehwan against his chest. Hakyeon's heart was pounding in his chest like it'd break through the fragile walls of his ribcage. And Jaehwan kept kissing him.

This time, Hakyeon pulled him close and kissed him back.

If they'd been younger they might not have stopped until clothes were shed, until they were tangled and sweaty and laughing and exhausted. It wasn't too many minutes before Jaehwan was resting his head on Hakyeon's shoulder, his chest against Hakyeon's chest. Hakyeon had his arms about Jaehwan, holding him without trapping him, holding him without being afraid to let go. Jaehwan was warm, and there was the faintest hint of sweat at the base of Jaehwan's neck when Hakyeon pressed his face against the soft warmth there.

Jaehwan was warm. He was so warm. Jaehwan's hand rested on Hakyeon's arm, not quite a grip, not quite an elusive touch. It was just there, just present, and even through the fabric of Hakyeon's shirt he could feel every line of Jaehwan's hand as if Jaehwan's hand was pressed against Hakyeon's skin. He could, because he had so many times in the past, and there were things one could never forget about those they'd once loved. About those they still loved.

And Hakyeon had been so foolish he'd willingly broken something that had never had reason to be.

"I'm sorry," Hakyeon murmured into Jaehwan's skin. So quiet it was indistinct and Jaehwan's only response was something just as indistinct. Hakyeon wanted to pretend it was I forgive you or I missed you (and never I'm sorry because Jaehwan has never played the fool.)

Jaehwan's breathing was steady, the rise and fall of his chest a calming rhythm. Small puffs of air brushed across Hakyeon's skin. Jaehwan left a light kiss against the side of Hakyeon's neck and Hakyeon moaned in surprise when Jaehwan dragged his tongue across damp skin.

"Not now," Hakyeon said, cupping Jaehwan's cheek in his palm and pushing him back before Jaehwan could sink his teeth in.

"But," Jaehwan whined. He pushed the top of his head into Hakyeon's palm, wiggling like a puppy.

Hakyeon laughed, kissing Jaehwan's head.

"You get nippy," Hakyeon said. He stood up, taking Jaehwan with him. Jaehwan fell on his feet with an offended squeak, stumbling a little before he regained his balance.

"I'm too old to sleep on the couch and so are you. I'll make up the guest room," Hakyeon said, stretching stiff muscles in his back. He rubbed at the damp spot on his neck, aching strangely for the warmth of Jaehwan's lips pressed against his skin. When he'd been the one to push him away—but it was true, if there was one thing Hakyeon wouldn't forget, it was how often he'd had to incorporate turtlenecks into his wardrobe. He didn't own as many now.

A tug on his sleeve brought Hakyeon's arm back down. Jaehwan stared at him with soft, hopeful eyes.

"Can I sleep in your bed?" Jaehwan asked.

Hakyeon hesitated, and that hesitation caught in his throat. "Of course," he said, shaking it away.

The smile that spilled across Jaehwan's face was like the breaking of dawn, and it was sweet and aching all at once.

Taekwoon fiddled with the string of his necklace as he waited. Spring had given precipitous way to summer weather even if summer had yet to truly begin. His black coat draped over the back of the seat was hot to the touch, and his iced coffee—second of the day—had become cool coffee and was well on its way to becoming lukewarm coffee.

He hadn't wanted to be late.

Sitting outside the cafe, Taekwoon stared at the two empty chairs set around the small, round table. The outdoor area of the cafe was on a side street away from the main bustle, so every time someone seemed to be approaching Taekwoon swivelled around to look, but either they were just walking past the intersection, or it was an old auntie coming back from the market. It didn't stop Taekwoon's heart from pounding. Despite the coffee, his throat was dry. His skin felt hot and prickled even without the sun.

The string was starting to bite at his finger as he wound it too tight and he shook it free, resolutely resting his arms on the table. It wasn't one of his usual necklaces—his mother had brought it home for him one day after a temple visit and he periodically wore it when she reminded him. Some mythical creature carved in jade to bring peace and offer protection—he could do with the protection. He wasn't sure about the peace.

Taekwoon pinged a finger against the half empty glass. He'd drank it too fast. He caught the straw between his teeth, already chewed into a flattened mess, taking a tiny sip. He wanted to make this one last. He'd arrived too early, but when he turned his wrist to glance at his watch, they were also late. By three minutes so far.

It was probably Jaehwan. Hakyeon would never be late. Taekwoon worried at the straw and stared at the smudged ring of water on the wooden table. It wasn't too late to just leave—he entertained the fantasy of standing up and grabbing his jacket but then he imagined Hakyeon and Jaehwan standing in front of the empty table with an abandoned half-empty glass of iced coffee. Taekwoon stuck his face in the cup. Or rather, he tried. Mostly he just inhaled cool coffee air.

He'd definitely left too damn early, but when he'd tried to hug Sir Hopples the rabbit had scrabbled away and left a nice set of scratches on Taekwoon's arm—he'd taken it as a cue to stop moping and get out the door. He was too early, and it was the rabbit's fault.

He heard people walking past the intersection and turned on instinct, ready to be simultaneously disappointed and relieved.

Simultaneously relieved and terrified.

Taekwoon wasn't sure if he could keep breathing.

He'd seen Hakyeon a few weeks ago, but this was the first time he'd seen Jaehwan since he'd shoved Jaehwan out his apartment door. That entire afternoon, evening was a haze, one that made his heart clench and chest hurt. Mostly, Taekwoon remembered the crying.

Jaehwan looked thin. He had a white cap with the brim tugged down until it was touching the large circular rims of his glasses. He was wearing a loose blouse with stripes on the sleeves, the linen cuffs hanging past his hands. When Jaehwan met Taekwoon's eyes his steps stuttered. And then his face broke into an awkward smile.

Hakyeon waved, corners of his eyes crinkling into crows feet. "Taekwoon! We're here!" Hakyeon called out extremely unnecessarily. He grabbed Jaehwan's arm and tugged him into a brisk pace for those last few steps—Taekwoon's eyes slid to Jaehwan shifting so Hakyeon was holding his hand instead of his wrist.

"You're late," Taekwoon said.

For some reason this made Hakyeon laugh more and Taekwoon's heart melted at the sound. He'd missed it. He missed it so much it hurt.

"Not my fault this time," Jaehwan grumbled petulantly.

"I missed the exit," Hakyeon admitted. He rested a hand on the back of one of the empty chairs and then paused. "Do you mind if we go and order first?"

Taekwoon shook his head before realising the ambiguity. "The iced americano is good," he said.

"Did you want another one?" Hakyeon asked, pointing at Taekwoon's now mostly empty cup. Taekwoon shook his head again, wrapping his fingers around it like he could hide the emptiness. His sister kept saying he needed to cut down on the coffee before it gave him ulcers. The cutting down hadn't been going too well.

"We'll be right back," Hakyeon said, dropping his bag onto the chair he'd been holding. "Don't go anywhere!"

Taekwoon frowned—where would he go?—but the cafe door was already swinging slowly shut behind Hakyeon. Jaehwan had left his cap in front of the other empty chair and the strap scraped across the table, pushed by a sudden gust of wind. They wouldn't be going anywhere either.

Two full nights had passed, and Taekwoon was sure this moment was nothing but fantasy, because there was no reason he'd arrange a time and a place when Hakyeon had done as he'd said and called ahead.

Jaehwan and I are coming, Hakyeon had said, and Taekwoon hadn't processed that until he'd already hung up with shaking hands.

Taekwoon stared at Jaehwan's cap, the inside of his throat constricting.

Jaehwan and I. Jaehwan and Hakyeon. Hakyeon and Jaehwan.

Jaehwan slipping his hand into Hakyeon's, their palms touching.

Taekwoon bit down on his lip, and looked up at the sun. It was a bright day.

He'd played this over in his mind a hundred thousand times, but all of those possibilities had vanished the moment he'd seen Hakyeon and Jaehwan. He wrapped both hands around the cup, gripping it tight as he lifted it to sip through the straw. There was a soft clink when he put it down again. He looked down, blinked at the silver glint of sun. He ran a finger along the band that had slid down his wrist to rest against his hand.

Be Free.

Taekwoon clasped his wrist, hiding it from view. He had no sleeves to tug further down.

A hundred thousand possibilities and his mind was a blank sea.

Hakyeon would approve—don't think too much, he'd say, sliding next to Taekwoon on the bench and wrapping an arm about his shoulders. It'll be okay.

Jaehwan just didn't think.

Jaehwan also hadn't tried to contact Taekwoon once.

The lump in Taekwoon's throat grew—he hadn't wanted Jaehwan to. He'd told Jaehwan to get out. He'd told Jaehwan to leave. Why would Jaehwan have come back? When Taekwoon had made it very clear he didn't want Jaehwan there—

He didn't want Jaehwan here.

Taekwoon looked up at the sun again, stared at it until he couldn't see. It was probably bad for his eyes.

He didn't want Hakyeon here.

He didn't want to be here.

But they'd left their things here, he couldn't get up and leave. He'd at least have to tell them he was leaving. Or bring them their things. He had to finish his coffee too, even if it wasn't iced anymore. Or wait for them to come back, say something had come up, that—

Unless his mom or sister happened to walk by at that very moment, he didn't have a single excuse to extract himself.

Did Jaehwan even want to be here? Or had Hakyeon—

"Sorry for taking so long," Hakyeon said. He was beaming as he scraped the chair back to sit, an iced americano in one hand and a plate of chocolate cake in the other. "Jaehwan couldn't decide which to get so we got two."

Jaehwan was precariously balancing his drink, a glass of water, and a slice of key-lime pie on top of the two cups. Taekwoon's eyes opened in alarm and grabbed the plate before it could fall.

"I told you to get a tray!" Hakyeon said.

"They were on the other end of the counter," Jaehwan said, pouting. He squeezed into the third seat, and now there were no empty chairs at the table. Taekwoon looked down at his coffee. Maybe he should've gotten another. Or hot chocolate. He could've gotten hot chocolate, even if it was almost summer.

"Well all's well that ends well," Hakyeon said, sighing. He handed a fork to Taekwoon, smiling warmly. "The slices are pretty big, aren't they?"

"Yes," Taekwoon said. Jaehwan seemed to be looking at him. Staring. Taekwoon rested the fork at the edge of the plate, staring down at the cake. "Was this place hard to find?"

"Not at all," Hakyeon reassured him. "Jaehwan says it wasn't his fault but he was distracting me and we missed the exit."

"But you were the one driving!" Jaehwan protested. He stabbed his fork into the pie and cut off a section.

"You drove?" Taekwoon asked. "You said you took the train."

"Well, with the two of us it was cheaper," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon nodded. That would make sense.

"It's faster too," Jaehwan said, "since I don't have to walk to the station."

"You're just lazy," Hakyeon said. He turned back to Taekwoon. "Are you sure you didn't want something else to drink?"

"Maybe later," Taekwoon said.

"Alright," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon followed Jaehwan's example, except with the tail-end of the strawberry chocolate one. He winced at the scrape of metal against the plate as he dragged the bite closer to himself. Hakyeon pushed the entire plate over.

"How's Dongil?" Hakyeon asked.

Taekwoon blinked, sitting up.

"Who's Dongil?" Jaehwan asked a little too sharply. Taekwoon stared at him as he thought.

"One of Taekwoon's students," Hakyeon said. "I promised to teach him how to shoot a fadeaway after his ankle got better."

"Oh," Jaehwan said. He went back to picking at the pie.

"He's better," Taekwoon said. "I let him start playing again."

"That's good!" Hakyeon said. He sipped at his iced americano and briefly paused. He'd forgotten to add sugar.

Dongil had asked after Hakyeon once or twice but mostly he was more interested in badgering Taekwoon to teach him. Taekwoon hunched over so he could eat the chunk of cake without getting cake crumbs everywhere. The kid had gotten it into his mind that Taekwoon was good at basketball after all. It was hard for Taekwoon to break the kid's fantasies.

"How have you been?" Hakyeon asked.

"Alright," Taekwoon said, tucking the cake into his cheek. Before remembering he wasn't supposed to talk with food in his mouth. It was fine, there was no one here he needed to set an example to. He chewed and swallowed anyway—it was easier to talk when there wasn't food in his mouth. "The kids are good, and the team's still on break."

"I asked about you, not your kids," Hakyeon said with a slight laugh.

"I'm fine," Taekwoon said. "How about you?"

Jaehwan and Hakyeon glanced at each other, and Jaehwan's expression softened like he was finally able to relax. Taekwoon hadn't noticed his tension until then, but now that it'd been dispelled it was too obvious.

"Well my editor approved my final draft so it's finally off to copyedit—" Hakyeon broke of with a laugh. "I guess I just did the same thing, talking about my work! It is more relaxing without that deadline"

"Lucky you," Jaehwan grumbled. "I'm still on a deadline."

"Self imposed," Hakyeon reminded him.

"Album?" Taekwoon asked.

Jaehwan immediately brightened, sitting straight up. "You know about it? My second full album! Wait, if you knew about it, then why didn't you say anything last time?"

Taekwoon blinked a few times, and took another bite of cake. "Hakyeon told me," Taekwoon said. He didn't want to explain that his family still updated him on his old… his old friends, or that Taekwoon had been watching a clip of Jaehwan that same day Hakyeon had called.

"It's true, and I was surprised you hadn't told him yourself," Hakyeon said, turning to Jaehwan.

"It's not like Taekwoon gave me a chance," Jaehwan said, and just like that his enthusiasm was snuffed out. Hakyeon grew quiet as well, and of course Jaehwan would've told him about Taekwoon chasing him out of his apartment.

"I… I hope it will do well," Taekwoon said. I'd like to listen to it, he couldn't manage to say.

"If it's our Jaehwannie it'll definitely do well!" Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan nodded but there was something stifled in it. Taekwoon had fucked up. Again. He nodded as well, like it'd make up for it.

It'd been so long since Taekwoon had to make small talk he'd forgotten how to do it. He'd never really learned how. Even when talking to reporters Hakyeon had been there as staunch support. And Jaehwan was always happy to talk.

"You're quiet today," Taekwoon said to Jaehwan.

Jaehwan startled and then balked, making a face at Taekwoon. "You're quiet today," he shot back.

"Taekwoonie's always quiet," Hakyeon said. "But he's right, Jaehwan you are being quiet—why don't you tell us about that album you were talking my ear off of in the car? Now that I'm not driving."

Hakyeon pressed his lips together and gave Jaehwan one of his extremely unimpressed and he was going to let you know it looks that Jaehwan ignored half the time by acting cute. Jaehwan pouted and wrinkled his nose.

"You should be honoured I'm giving you a sneak peak," Jaehwan sniffed. "Our Wonsikkie even wrote me a song! He'll be mad too if you don't listen to it."

'I always listen to his songs!" Hakyeon protested. "Just drink your coffee before it gets cold."

"It's a macchiato, not a coffee," Jaehwan said.

"How are they different?" Taekwoon raised an eyebrow, daring Jaehwan to answer.

Jaehwan, predictably, just pouted again like the five year old he still was.

"Well then, drink your macchiato before it gets cold," Hakyeon said primly.

A small smile flitted across Taekwoon's lips. He bit down on his straw to hide it. He let them bicker among themselves, which quickly devolved into Jaehwan's constant whining pitted against Hakyeon's increasingly unimpressed tone. Finally, Hakyeon sighed, and then shoved a forkful of chocolate cake into Jaehwan's mouth.

"You're the one who wanted both," Hakyeon said. He heaved an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. Jaehwan chewed furiously, because it'd been a large enough piece that he was already at risk of spewing crumbs over the table.

Taekwoon cut off a bite from the pie. He'd never had the cakes from here since he usually got his drink to-go. They were good.

For all that Jaehwan was whining, the way he came alive when he talked was magic. His eyes shone, his words were punctuated by exaggerated gestures, and his voice rose and fell like a melody in itself. When he laughed his eyes became crescent moons, and Hakyeon teased him just to make him laugh.

That brief moment when Jaehwan had grabbed Hakyeon's hand—Taekwoon exhaled.

He'd been wrong—or had he?

"You're together again," Taekwoon said quietly, a thought spoken aloud rather than one he meant to say. He hadn't meant to say it because maybe he was wrong, but he'd seen that look before in Hakyeon's eyes, in Jaehwan's eyes, and—

"I guess we are," Hakyeon said.

Jaehwan bit his lip and stared down at his drink.

"Yeah," Jaehwan said softly. "Is that...alright?"

"What?" Taekwoon blurted in bewilderment before he had time to think. When the rest of his thoughts caught up, they were at an equal loss for words. "I… Why are you asking me?"

"'Cause, I mean... "

"What did you mean by 'again'?" Hakyeon asked, gently directing attention away from Jaehwan. He stared into Taekwoon's eyes as he spoke, and Taekwoon's heart froze in that intensity. It seemed to stop beating entirely. He felt trapped in Hakyeon's gaze.

Taekwoon swallowed, tongue moistening his lips as he tried to salvage his thoughts. "Because we… you used to be," he said.

Hakyeon just looked at him like all he'd heard was the 'we' Taekwoon had spoken by accident, spoken without thinking.

Taekwoon had spent his entire life reminding himself to think three times before speaking, but in front of Hakyeon and Jaehwan that resolve always seemed to disappear. That, it seemed, had never changed.

"I dunno if 'again' is the right word, since Hongbin and our Hyukkie said that since we'd never gotten divorced, it doesn't count," Jaehwan said, lifting his head.

Divorced? "Divorced?" Taekwoon stared at Jaehwan like he'd grown a third head. "Divorced?" he repeated.

"'But we weren't married,' is that what you're going to say?" Hakyeon asked, teasing and exasperated and understanding all at the same time. "Because I said the same thing."

"They're the ones who said it was the same thing as breaking up, not me," Jaehwan said. "And I guess they were right, if… you really think about it."

"I wouldn't know," Taekwoon said, and that was true too.

Hakyeon's look had become appraising. Taekwoon ducked his head, sucked on the straw and pulled up mostly air. Ignored the knot in his stomach.

"I don't blame you for leaving—we don't blame you for leaving, Taekwoon. I need to say that first. Things did change, and without you the balance wasn't right. But I think I understand why you felt like you had to do what you did."

"You do?" Taekwoon thought those words, but it was Jaehwan that put voice to it.

Something gripped Taekwoon's arms and his throat, and he couldn't face Hakyeon. Couldn't face the answer.

"That's not for me to say," Hakyeon said, and some of that grip loosened, even if his mouth was still dry.

It wasn't for Taekwoon to say either, because he refused to remember. He couldn't remember.

"What I mean to say is that it's not 'again', the kids just helped us see more clearly," Hakyeon said.

But what about me?

A question Taekwoon had no right asking when he was the one who'd taken himself out of the picture. That was why they were here, wasn't it? In a cafe as far across town as they could get, sitting outside instead of indoors, with the three of them squeezed around a round table but there was a gaping crevice between Taekwoon and the other two. Why Hakyeon had called two evenings ago and asked when Taekwoon might be free. He didn't remember much else of what they'd talked about. What Hakyeon had talked about. It was, as always, easier to let Hakyeon talk.

The air pressed down on his chest, squeezing his lungs. Taekwoon stared at the table, because to look anywhere else meant lifting his eyes, meant seeing things. He didn't want to see anything.

We miss you. Hakyeon had said that. Taekwoon remembered now. We miss you, he'd said, right after he said there would be Jaehwan too. We miss you.

"That's good," Taekwoon managed, but it was so quiet he barely heard it himself.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" Hakyeon asked. Taekwoon shook his head quick and hard. "I hadn't thought it was so obvious."

"It was a guess," Taekwoon said, because he felt like he had to say something, couldn't just keep shaking his head.

"We weren't trying to hide it," Hakyeon said. "It felt better to wait, since there's still a lot we haven't talked about."

You should've stayed together. Without me, Taekwoon thought.

And then:

You didn't need to tell me.

And then:

Since when?

Three unworthy thoughts. Taekwoon carefully cut off a piece of cake and brought it to his mouth, his other hand cupped underneath to catch any stray crumbs. After the coffee, it was tooth-achingly sweet.

He wished he hadn't told Hakyeon that his schedule was free today, that there was nothing he had to do. Except to feed Sir Hopples, but that was several hours away.

The moment he put the fork down, there was a hand on his and he nearly jerked back out of reflex, but it was such a familiar yet unfamiliar touch that his instinct screamed to stay. He looked up into Hakyeon's eyes, like he had a hundred thousand times before.

Like he'd dropped an old photo album and it'd fallen open, and the pages were a time he'd remembered and forgotten all at once.

"You were right to say 'we'," Hakyeon said. "And that 'we' will always include you, Taekwoon. Do you understand?"

Taekwoon hesitated but he couldn't shake his head and all he could do was nod, just once. Hakyeon drew his hand back, his fingers brushing against the bracelet, pulling it slightly with that touch.

"This isn't the place to talk about that though!" Hakyeon said brightly, sitting back. "You were right, the iced americano is good. Do you know the specialties of every cafe near here? Although I expect nothing less from our Taekwoon, some things can't change."

"Every cafe?" Jaehwan asked eagerly, and that was when Taekwoon realised Jaehwan hadn't said a word in those few minutes. Which meant it'd been less than a minute, because Jaehwan was incapable of staying silent for longer than that.

"A few," Taekwoon said, and then, "I try."

"I bet that's your hobby," Jaehwan said.

Taekwoon knew that Jaehwan was teasing, but when he thought about it…

"It's a useful hobby," Taekwoon said.

"..." Jaehwan stared at him, mouth slightly agape. "I can't tell if you're joking or not."

"Should I be?" Taekwoon asked, still deadpan, but he couldn't help the slight curl of his lips half a second after.

Hakyeon snorted. "Jaehwan, your hobby is collecting action figures and playing games."

"So? Are you saying that's not useful? Look at Hongbinnie, he turned playing games into his job!"

Taekwoon squinted at Jaehwan. "Hongbin… playing games as his job?"

"Apparently," Hakyeon said. "People like watching him play games? And give him money for it?"

"It's 'cause our Hongbinnie is really good!" Jaehwan said. "I'm jealous… I wish I was that good. But I dunno if I'd want to do it for a job, it'd be too stressful."

"Is music stressful?" Taekwoon asked.

Jaehwan shrugged and shook his head. "Only sometimes, but it's fun."

Hakyeon coughed, and hid it with a sip of his drink when Jaehwan glowered at him.

"I said sometimes," Jaehwan said, wrinkling his nose. "Everyone has a slump! Even you have slumps! Even Taekwoon had slumps and Taekwoon's the—"

Jaehwan cut himself off, and Taekwoon fiddled with his fork. Somehow the cakes were almost all gone. Everyone's drinks were almost all gone too. Taekwoon hadn't had a 'slump' like the ones Jaehwan was talking about in years. Unless he counted all these years as a 'slump'. In the end, he'd never be able to escape his past.

"I don't have slumps," Hakyeon cut in, extra offended to make up for that hesitation of silence. "I have a creative process."

Taekwoon snorted. He knew what Hakyeon was doing but it was still funny to see Hakyeon puffed up like an angry peacock. He snuck a glance at his watch, and somehow an hour had already passed. He'd spent an hour with someone other than his family, other than the kids. All of a sudden, he felt exhausted. Hakyeon and Jaehwan were laughing, radiating energy, but as much as he tried he couldn't summon even a quarter as much to match. It was alright though. It was good to see them happy.

He'd cleaned the apartment before leaving, taking out the garbage and folding the laundry and even stacking the blankets and pillows on the couch.

He wanted to be there. On the couch. With the blankets piled up around him. Maybe turn off the lights and close the blinds. There was so much sun.

"You look tired, Taekwoon."

Hakyeon's voice jerked Taekwoon into alertness. Hakyeon was peering at him and even though Taekwoon shook his head, Hakyeon had come to his own conclusions. Correct conclusions.

"I didn't sleep well," Taekwoon said. It wasn't entirely a lie—he hadn't woken to that nightmare but something had pulled him from sleep long before Taekwoon was ready to wake.

'We should let you go," Hakyeon said. "Thank you for coming to meet us."

"You drove here," Taekwoon said, brows creasing. He'd just walked.

Jaehwan seemed ready to fire off something snippy, but his expression sombered, as he fiddled with his sleeve.

"I'm uh… sorry for last time," Jaehwan mumbled. "I didn't apologise properly yet. I wasn't thinking and… that was dumb."

"You can think?" Taekwoon asked, tone carefully neutral. Jaehwan made a face at him, the only thing missing from a playground taunt was a stuck out tongue.

"I'm glad you finally realised," Hakyeon said, not mollifying Jaehwan whatsoever. But Jaehwan must've been scolded enough because other than a 'hey!' of protest, he subsided into an exaggerated sulk.

"I am a little tired," Taekwoon said. He tried a smile, summoned from the last dregs of his energy, searching haltingly for the right words. "Thank you… both of you, for coming. This is… somewhat far."

It was somewhat far, because Taekwoon had wanted to be far. It hadn't been far enough. Taekwoon stood first, and then Hakyeon, and then Jaehwan.

"Do you want a ride home?" Hakyeon asked.

Taekwoon shook his head as he shrugged on his jacket. He'd walked here, and would walk back.

He was restless.

Maybe it was the dreams. There was always the burning basketball court but sometimes he'd wake up when flames licked the ceiling of an old classroom, but he didn't know which or where or when. He was late for a game, and he'd forgotten his shoes. Playing pick-up basketball outside and he kept missing every shot and the reporters were hounding him and there was no one to drive them away. They were becoming more vivid and each time he'd wake up remembering something new. Sometimes, Hakyeon and Jaehwan would be there.

It was those that frightened him the most. There was a long hallway. There was a fluttering veil at the end and he could hear their voices echoing indistinctly down the walls. Sometimes they'd be arguing. Sometimes they'd be laughing. Once, he heard Jaehwan crying. But no matter how fast or how far he ran he never reached them. His leg giving way, a doctor standing over him looking down with disdain, you should have worked harder on your rehab, before he's tossed through the wall, body screaming in pain. Or the floor vanishing under his feet and he finds himself drowning in the darkness. Once, he barely manages to touch the veil and he can feel the gossamer fabric against his fingers, hope finally bubbling forward—but the entire hallway tilts and he slides backwards the way he came, fingers scrabbling against a smooth surface with nothing to grab.

It was probably better that sleep eluded him. It left him in a constant state of exhaustion that he was too tired to fight.

He still hadn't heard from Jaehwan.

Hakyeon had called again about being bogged down by work, so could Taekwoon apologise to Dongil and tell him that Hakyeon hadn't forgotten about his promise? Jaehwan was probably also busy, and Taekwoon felt a pang of guilt that the two of them had carved out time just to drive up to the corner Taekwoon lived in. Hakyeon had framed it as another excuse to visit his brother's family. Taekwoon didn't buy it.

Taekwoon paced the length of his kitchen, waiting for his fancy new coffee machine to finish brewing a latte. It wasn't nearly as good as the coffee shop, but he also didn't have to leave the apartment. Jaehwan didn't have his phone number. Taekwoon stopped, and stared into the living room. But Jaehwan could've asked Hakyeon for it. If he really wanted it. Jaehwan had seemed… off, somehow. Less talkative. Quieter. In Hakyeon's background, and alright with it. Taekwoon walked over to the coffee machine. It wasn't finished. He tapped his fingers against the counter, watching the bubbles of milk foam clinging to the frother slowly deflate.

When Taekwoon peeked his head into the rabbit room, he found Sir Hopples fast asleep in a cardboard box. He'd bought toys for her online and she'd taken a liking to the box, so he'd left it there. There was also a cute, fancy bunny house with ramps and cubbies, but so far she'd only sniffed at the ramp and then used it as a pillow. But if Taekwoon was treating himself with a coffee maker, it only seemed right that Sir Hopples get something too. She was a very sweet—but smelly—bunny.

The coffee maker beeped. Taekwoon hesitated as he reached for the jar of sugar. He didn't really want it sweet, but he also felt an urge for a sweet latte. Hakyeon's grimace at the first sip of his iced americano that day came to mind—Hakyeon usually added sugar. Taekwoon added a single teaspoon.

The clock on the oven said it was almost six PM. Taekwoon frowned, looking out at the afternoon sun. But it was summer—it'd look like afternoon for at least another hour. He'd forgotten, and somehow the entire day had disappeared. It was late, but he wouldn't waste coffee. It wasn't like he'd fall asleep easily anyway. He took his coffee and curled up on the couch, staring at the skyline outside the window.

There were times when he wished he had kept pictures. His parents kept photo albums documenting every moment of his and his sisters' childhoods, and sporadic moments after that. There were other albums too: family trips, his parents' honeymoon, memories of his older sisters that he didn't share. His father had been a very handsome young man and his mother was very pretty even when she was a little girl, with photos stretching decades back. Photos of his grandparents, of his aunts and uncles, of sights that his father had seen and decided to immortalise in film. They didn't use film anymore. Scrolling through digital photos wasn't the same. That moment of anticipation followed by that burst of nostalgia or discovery bracketing the turn of each page. Plastic covers sticking slightly to the back of the next page. The sound of static as he peeled them apart.

If life was made only of moments saved in a photo album, it'd feel more worth living.

Be Free.

Taekwoon rotated the band around his wrist with his free hand until the words faced up. They were backwards, but Taekwoon didn't need to read them when he'd done that a thousand million times. He'd never really understood what Hakyeon had meant. A promise, Hakyeon had said. And he didn't say more, even in the face of Jaehwan's pestering.

Taekwoon had chosen freedom, so why did he feel so abysmal thinking of Hakyeon and his promise?

His coffee was gone, and with a sigh he put it onto the coffee table with a clink. He'd remember to wash it later. The quiet noise must've awoken Sir Hopples, because the rabbit started chattering at a truly frightening volume for such a tiny body. Feeding time it was.

It was strange. Taekwoon's life felt empty. He'd never felt like this before, even before Sir Hopples became his roommate. Taekwoon stretched his arms over his head as he glanced at the time. Seven PM. There were still hours until he'd try to sleep.

It was a terrible idea, but by then he was halfway to the train station, keys and wallet in his jean pockets, because it was too warm for a jacket. It'd been a hot day but the wind pushed it aside as the sun finally began to set.

There were a handful of people on the train. There were empty seats but Taekwoon stood, facing the door that didn't open. He didn't want anyone to sit next to him. His mind wandered as stops were called, and his feet carried him to the other train when he needed to transfer. It'd been years since he'd ventured this far from home and even longer since he'd taken this branch, but it still felt familiar like he'd been doing this every day, even though the stations were newer, the signs more high tech. It felt a little like coming home.

By the time he stepped out into the night air, evening had fallen. For the first time since he'd left he felt a burst of unease. Why was he here? Why had he come here?

Taekwoon took a tentative step forward, looking about him in the streetlamp lit half dark. The stores were different. Only a few remained to tell him that this was the same place as it'd been in their university days. Taekwoon walked slowly, looking for the shoe shop they'd all frequented. The convenience store where they'd bought countless drinks and snacks. Half of them were gone. At least one of his favourite coffee shops was still there.

His walk took him back to his old campus. There were students milling about, some hurrying home from studying with laden bookbags on their shoulders, while others laughed and jostled their friends, blocking the entire sidewalk. They squeezed to one side to let Taekwoon pass and then immediately swelled again to the full width, like a river flowing around a small stone. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up into a different world he couldn't step into. A few students gave him strange looks as they walked by him, one seemed about to ask if Taekwoon needed help before she looked at his face and hurried away instead.

Taekwoon walked the perimeter of the campus, keeping to its edge but never stepping in. The gym was buried in the center but he walked past the building where he'd taken Japanese, and the imposing grey cinderblock where he'd spent hours waiting for Hakyeon to finish his math classes. There was a bench on the second floor down at the end of the hall. Taekwoon would sit there with his headphones in until Hakyeon came to find him, and then they'd walk to practice together, or home, on days off. Jaehwan's building was closest to their apartment and furthest from the gym. He'd run in late and breathless every practice, and was always assigned extra laps. If he mouthed back he was stuck alone with cleaning duty—Hakyeon and Taekwoon would still wait for him and were inevitably roped into helping out. The ramen place across the street was open late—he smiled to himself, thinking of all the times five or six boisterous boys shoved themselves around a table, talking over each other to be heard. He didn't remember what the ramen tasted like, but it must've been good. There was a barbecue place down the block, reserved for very special occasions. Taekwoon didn't turn down that street.

The wind had picked up again and Taekwoon braced himself against it. It whipped his hair against his face and cut through his shirt. It'd become chilly.

He started walking again, and walking faster. He'd come to find Hakyeon and Jaehwan. He needed to find Hakyeon and Jaehwan. He should've brought a jacket. It was getting windier by the second. At least he was almost home.

Except home was… gone.

Taekwoon stood at the intersection where their building had stood. A bit old with creaky stairs but the rent was cheap. It was a high rise under construction. It didn't… make sense. Taekwoon looked around him and all the buildings were strange. He'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. He retraced his steps, but in the darkness he missed the alleyway winding up the hill. It was fine—he'd find his way back to campus and start over. His heart was tight in his chest. Taekwoon looked around him—that convenience store seemed familiar but when he walked closer the shelves he saw through the window were oriented the wrong way, the check-out manned by an older lady in the wrong place. Taekwoon quickly walked back the way he came.

But where had he come from? Left or right? He'd crossed the street, so it must've been from the left. It didn't seem right though. Had he seen that house before? He would've noticed the boarded up store over there, wouldn't he have? He didn't remember it.

A crack of thunder jolted him, and when he turned he saw a flash of lightning. It wasn't supposed to rain. He needed to get home.

Home… wasn't here.

The rain hit him like a cold hose bringing him back to his senses.

He didn't live here anymore. They didn't live here anymore. No one lived together anymore.

Taekwoon tried to check his watch but the pouring rain made it impossible to read, no matter how much he wiped at it with the hem of his shirt. The lights had become dim, and only puddles of orange light remained directly underneath. He still couldn't read the time.

The streets had emptied.

It was cold and wet and dark.

Stores were closed, no light flowing out through windows, or brightly lit signs. He couldn't see the street signs. Panic crushed his lungs.

He started walking. Somewhere had to be open. He'd ask for directions. He never asked for directions. He didn't know how to ask for directions. Maybe call a cab. But there were no cabs out. It was too dark. Too secluded. The rain was relentless and he was drenched.

Why was he even here?

He shouldn't have come.

What had he been looking for?

He'd wanted to find Jaehwan. Wanted to find Hakyeon.

Wanted to find home.

The street grew narrower as Taekwoon climbed the hill. His knee ached. How long had he been walking? It was so dark now. He'd hated the dark as a kid. It didn't scare him. He just hated it. He was cold. The buildings crowded towards him and Taekwoon began to walk faster.

A faint green light appeared hazy in the distance. Taekwoon picked up his pace and started jogging, and when the light became a blurred outline of a payphone Taekwoon ran. Better to run than to have the buildings crush him. They wouldn't. But they could.

He reached the payphone just as a flash of lightning pulled back the darkness for a half second, and the clap of thunder resounded in his bones.

The rain stopped falling. He still heard it, but it no longer cascaded down his skin. With shaking hands he fumbled for his wallet and shook out a few coins. The receiver was warm in his hand.

Taekwoon dialed the area code and froze. He didn't want to call his mom. She'd scold him. His sister too, and what sort of example was he setting for his nephew? So he dialed the only number he could think of.

One… two… three…

"Hakyeon?"

"Hello, this is—Taekwoon, is that you?"

What a warm, familiar voice. Taekwoon leaned against the glass. His chest loosened, it was easier to breathe. He didn't know what to say.

"Hello? Taekwoon? Did he hang up…?"

Taekwoon blinked the water out of his eyes, wiped it from his face. "I'm lost," Taekwoon said, words slipping out. "Hakyeon, come get me. I think I'm lost."

Hakyeon clutched his phone, already running for the door. His knee clipped something on the coffee table, and the photo album Hongbin had brought a few days ago fell to the floor with a thump. Hakyeon ignored it. He had to hurry. Nothing about this felt right.

"Where are you Taekwoon? Where are you calling from? Don't hang up—are you at a payphone?"

A long pause, and Hakyeon could see him nodding or shaking his head. "Yes or no, talk to me," Hakyeon said.

He grabbed his coat and an umbrella. A split moment of hesitation before he grabbed his car keys from the wall. He hated driving in the dark and hated driving in the rain even more, but it didn't matter.

"Yes," Taekwoon finally said.

There weren't that many payphones anymore.

"Are you near home? Where are you?"

"I was trying to find home, but it's gone, Hakyeon. The building's gone, and you and Jaehwan aren't there." Taekwoon's voice was quiet enough for Hakyeon to hear the rain in the background.

Taekwoon had gone back. Cold water poured down Hakyeon's back. Taekwoon had tried to go back.

"I'm coming to get you okay? Don't hang up, I'll be there soon and we can all go home and Jaehwan will be there too. Don't leave, just stay inside." Hakyeon lived so far from that old place. He wasn't even sure he knew how to drive there. Thank fucking god for smart phones.

"Are you near the old building Taekwoon?" Hakyeon asked. The rain was falling in sheets and the windshield seemed impenetrable. It hammered at the roof, almost drowning out the phone. Hakyeon turned on the headlights and the wipers to high, and started to drive.

"I don't know, I got lost," Taekwoon mumbled. "Sorry Hakyeon, I tried to... "

Taekwoon trailed off, and Hakyeon could only hear the rain. The rain, and then all of a sudden, the line went dead. He'd hung up. Or the call time had run out. It'd been exactly three minutes.

"Fuck. Fuck."

Hakyeon swore, trying to dial the number back but he couldn't get through. Because it was a fucking payphone. It was impossible to see, but the streets were empty. The navigation app on his phone was doing most of the work. Hakyeon tried to calm his breathing, his pounding heart, just focus on driving. He had to drive slowly. It'd help no one if he skidded and crashed. Hakyeon took several deep breaths and rubbed at his eyes.

"Siri, call Jaehwan please," Hakyeon said.

"Okay. Dialing Jaehwan," the mechanical voice of his phone responded.

It took four rings before Jaehwan picked up.

"Hakyeon, I'm working." Jaehwan was nearly yelling. He'd still picked up.

"It's Taekwoon," Hakyeon cut him off. Jaehwan was suddenly silent. "I think he went back to the old place. He said he went back, he was trying to go home, but the building's gone, that we're not there."

There was a second of stunned silence. Hakyeon squinted through the rain drenched windshield, his headlights just barely picking up the outlines of the road. He glanced briefly at his phone, trying to gauge how far the next turn was.

"Now?" Jaehwan asked. "Right now? In this weather?"

"Right now," Hakyeon said. "He called me—"

"But he doesn't—"

"From a payphone," Hakyeon said, talking over Jaehwan. "I'm driving over right now to find him. Jaehwan, can you…"

Hakyeon trailed off, because he was suddenly unsure why he'd called Jaehwan. What he'd wanted Jaehwan to do.

It was instinct.

"What'd you need me to do?" Jaehwan asked, and all the annoyance and irritation he'd answered the phone with was gone. Instead, it was a hushed panic. Of course Jaehwan would panic.

"Maybe there's a map," Hakyeon said, scrambling for anything that would help.

"I'll try," Jaehwan said hesitantly, and he sounded as hopeful of that prospect as Hakyeon did. "Just… just be careful. It's raining pretty hard."

"I will," Hakyeon said, and his heart swelled at Jaehwan's concern. He understood Hakyeon's aversion to the rain.

"I'll hang up so you don't get distracted," Jaehwan said. "And… make sure to bring that dumbass back."

Jaehwan hung up before Hakyeon could reply. "I will," Hakyeon said anyway, a soft smile at the call ended notification.

At least Hakyeon didn't live as far as he used to. He glanced at the map—he'd dropped a pin in the rough area, but now he pulled over and typed in an address instead. But it's gone, Hakyeon. The building's gone. Taekwoon couldn't be too far from the old place. He'd have been there before the rain began. Hakyeon just needed somewhere to start. A lump rose in his throat as he looked at that old address, as Siri read out that old address and started navigation. He hadn't thought of that address in years. He didn't know Taekwoon still remembered it.

Taekwoon always did have a thing for nostalgia.

Twenty minutes. Longer in this weather. Hakyeon carefully signalled and merged back into the road, even if he didn't see any cars around. Better to be safe.

All Hakyeon needed to do was find a payphone near the old address. There'd been one in front of the convenience store three blocks away. He remembered seeing others, or he thought he did. A few near the campus but they'd probably done away with those, and Taekwoon would've recognised that area. Probably. He could've gone further. The wrong direction. Hakyeon would know soon enough.

It was all he could do to tamp out the panic as he drove.

The building was indeed gone. Hakyeon stared at the half-built highrise, illuminated by construction lights even through the rain.

He started looking. He drove slowly, forcing himself to keep to a grid, as much as the streets could form a grid. Methodical. There were street lamps but they were dimmed by the relentless rain. The brightest light came from occasional flashes of lightning, although even those were retreating. A good thing. He wanted to jump out of the car and search wildly, but at best he'd be soaked even with the umbrella. At worst he'd drop his phone and be equally disoriented. At least like this, he knew where he'd gone.

It was still hard to see. He hoped Taekwoon hadn't moved, but Taekwoon could be unpredictable in the most normal of times. Not unpredictable like Jaehwan was unpredictable. Unpredictable because he was usually so predictable.

Five minutes and no Taekwoon. No pay phones. His own phone was silent, nothing from Jaehwan. He hadn't expected Jaehwan to find anything.

Eight minutes, another three blocks. Maybe he needed to widen his search but it seemed too unlikely. He couldn't have gotten too far. He swallowed, bit down on his tongue. There was nothing to gain by jumping out of the car. He tried rolling down the windows. It wasn't easier to see. It was just wet. But it drenched some of the sense back into him. He'd find Taekwoon. He'd find Taekwoon, bundle him into the car, and bring him home. He just had to be patient. Taekwoon couldn't vanish. He'd find him. He couldn't stop looking at the clock.

Ten minutes.

Eleven minutes.

Fourteen minutes—

He saw it. He saw him. Hakyeon threw the car into park and bolted out the door. The rain was cold. It got into his eyes.

"Taekwoon!"

Hakyeon slipped, his sneakers losing their grip on the slight slope, hands crashing against the concrete. He didn't know if Taekwoon heard him. Hakyeon screamed Taekwoon's name again and this time the silhouette standing outside the booth turned to face Hakyeon. Even through the curtain of rain, Hakyeon's heart stopped. Taekwoon was still beautiful. Even like this. Even when all he saw in Taekwoon's eyes was exhaustion and pain.

Hakyeon scooped Taekwoon into his arms, holding Taekwoon as tight as he could, tighter than he could. Felt the minute shift of Taekwoon's muscles through his shirt, plastered to his cold skin. Like instinct, Taekwoon's bare arms wrapped around Hakyeon's waist, and even through the rain Hakyeon could feel his own tears hot against his face.

He'd found Taekwoon.

"We're going home," Hakyeon whispered against Taekwoon's neck. "Jaehwan's waiting, we're all going home."

Jaehwan paced the length of his studio. It wasn't very long. He peeked out the curtains and the wind drove the rain against the glass, each droplet falling like a relentless woodpecker. Somewhere out there was Taekwoon, and somewhere out there was Hakyeon. And Jaehwan was in here, useless and a hindrance as he'd always been.

He shook his head, refusing to let those thoughts take hold.

The rest of his apartment was dark, the darkness pouring through the large windows instead of the sun he'd left it with. He closed the curtains, turned on the lights, and pulled out his laptop. Even before he'd typed a single word into the Naver search bar, Jaehwan knew it'd be useless. Five minutes of flipping through countless pages only confirmed it.

Jaehwan finally slammed his laptop shut. "Fuck."

But it wasn't the laptop's fault.

"I'm sorry," Jaehwan apologised, rubbing it tenderly.

He was angry and upset but he didn't know at who, at what. Taekwoon? Hakyeon? The rain? Jaehwan rubbed his eyes and pushed his hands through his hair in frustration. Panic bubbled up in his chest, filling every empty space. Every nook and cranny. Panic and anger. He could choke on it.

Jaehwan just wanted someone to tell him it'd all be okay.

He stilled.

Even Hakyeon needed someone to lean on.

Jaehwan scrambled for his phone and hit call.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Jaehwan muttered, as if Hongbin could hear him. "Pick uppppp."

It didn't even go to voicemail—it just hung up. Jaehwan cursed and fired off a flurry of texts: pick up; it's an emergency; hakyeon; and; taekwoon. Hoping at least one of them would get Hongbin's attention. A minute passed and nothing, so Jaehwan called again. Still nothing.

Jaehwan stared at his phone like Hongbin not picking up was its fault. He didn't know who else to call. Sanghyuk was working tonight. Wonsik was terrible at picking up his phone on the best of days. Jaehwan didn't even know where he'd be.

But he had a good guess of Hongbin's whereabouts.

Jaehwan was more courteous than Hakyeon—he pulled up Twitch on his phone just to check that Hongbin wasn't streaming. Or planning to stream. Mostly to check that Hongbin would be home. He'd definitely be home. Jaehwan grinned, and immediately called a cab.

"Uhh, you're not delivery?" Hongbin's roommate stood in the open doorway, staring skeptically at Jaehwan. Jaehwan briefly racked his brain for the roommate's name, but came up with nothing except that he was significantly taller than Hongbin's last roommate and was wearing a giant hoodie.

"It's an emergency," Jaehwan said. Jaehwan pushed past him ignoring his protests, making a beeline for Hongbin's room.

Hongbin was predictably gaming, staring at the screen with crazy focus. He jumped when Jaehwan slammed the door open, swivelling his head just long enough to see who it was.

"Jaehwan what the fuck!?" Hongbin swore at Jaehwan, sniping two enemies one after the other.

"It's an emergency," Jaehwan said again, "and you weren't picking up your phone."

"Yeah, uh, your friend's here," the roommate said, trailing Jaehwan in.

"I can tell," Hongbin grumbled. Jae, Jaehwan remembered. The roommate's name was Jae.

"Oh? Is this another one of your handsome friends?"

Jaehwan had been so busy staring at Hongbin's shooting accuracy he hadn't noticed the video call on the second monitor with Hongbin's teammates. Both girls, one with black headphones and two long braids, and another with round glasses and a very red keyboard. But more importantly, even if he barely understood English he knew that voice. He knew both of them. Hongbin was on his feet and covering Jaehwan's mouth before he could get a word in sideways.

"Jae, cover for me," Hongbin yelled, dragging Jaehwan away. "Gonna need the room."

"I'm busy!" Jae protested, although he still sat tentatively in Hongbin's chair.

"Sorry guys," Hongbin added in English.

"Aww, but having Jae play is worse than you going AFK," Lily said, although Jaehwan barely understood any of it.

"C'mon Rae, tell her to knock it off," Jae complained, which was all Jaehwan got before Hongbin shoved Jaehwan into the extra gaming room and shut the door.

"You didn't tell me you—" Jaehwan started, but Hongbin raised a threatening fist.

"This had better be a real emergency, we're playing ranked," Hongbin grumbled. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, glaring at Jaehwan. "Talk."

Jaehwan took a deep breath, because there'd be time to interrogate Hongbin's friendships, but first: "when'd your English get so good?"

"Talk, or get the fuck out," Hongbin said, pointing forcefully at the door.

Right. Emergency. Jaehwan bit down on his lip and glanced at the nice gaming desktops and comfortable chairs. He didn't know where to begin.

"Another Taekwoon emergency?" Hongbin asked, already exasperated.

"Kinda," Jaehwan said. "Hakyeon's looking for him right now but—"

"Wait, back up, what do you mean 'looking for him'?"

"Hakyeon said he thinks Taekwoon went back to the old place," Jaehwan said, words trailing into a mumble. The old place.

"Old place, what old place? You don't mean that ratty apartment the three of you used to share?" Hongbin asked, frowning.

Jaehwan nodded. Even if he didn't remember it as 'ratty'.

"Now? It's pouring outside!"

"That's what Hakyeon said and he sounded really scared," Jaehwan said. He swallowed, fiddling with his bracelet. "I was supposed to look for a map of payphones but I couldn't find any."

Hongbin paced past Jaehwan and then turned, staring at him incredulously. "You're not making sense, and what does this have to do with me?"

"Because I think Hakyeon's gonna need someone to lean on," Jaehwan said. He looked up and met Hongbin's eyes. Hongbin blinked and glanced past Jaehwan at the door.

"So to sum up, the selfish asshole went wandering without a phone at night, called Hakyeon from a pay phone when it started raining, and now Hakyeon's off on a rescue mission while he sends you after me, because he knows you're useless."

Jaehwan winced, shoulders hunching a little. No bad thoughts. "He didn't send me," he said. "And also, you have a key to his place."

This caught Hongbin by surprise, his mouth parted, and then he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

"This is so fucking stupid but it's the three of you, and Taekwoon never lost his touch for drama, huh. Alright, fine. Does he know we're breaking in?" Hongbin asked, but he was already walking out of the room, leaving Jaehwan to catch up after a stunned moment of silence.

"You're coming?" Jaehwan asked.

"Unfortunately," Hongbin said, grimacing. "First let me find those keys, you see what's up with Hakyeon. And stay out here."

Hongbin punctuated the last by quickly slipping into his room and slamming the door. Jaehwan looked mournfully at Hongbin's closed door, but he wasn't going to risk a peek. Even Hakyeon needed someone to lean on—and so did Jaehwan.

Afterwards, the only thing Hakyeon would remember was holding Taekwoon in the rain, and the only thing Jaehwan would remember was crying on the bathroom floor at Hakyeon's text: we're coming home.

Hakyeon collapsed on the couch, exhaustion hitting his body like the grille of a truck, strength sapped from his limbs leaving them heavier than lead. A steaming cup of tea was pushed into his hands and Hakyeon smiled gratefully as Hongbin sat down next to him.

"You could sleep too," Hongbin said.

"I should shower first," Hakyeon said. He'd rubbed a towel through his hair but it was still damp, even though he'd barely been outside.

"They're both asleep?" Hongbin asked. It wasn't much of a question but Hakyeon nodded anyway. Jaehwan had wrapped himself around Taekwoon, clinging to him like he'd never let go again. Hakyeon had drawn the blanket over both of them and closed the door, leaving it open just a crack.

With the weariness and exhaustion came a wave of everything he'd been swallowing, everything he'd been holding back even if he hadn't done a good job and before he knew it he was crying, really crying and Hongbin was patting him tentatively on the shoulder as Hakyeon curled up onto himself.

"I was so scared," Hakyeon choked out. "Hongbinnie, I don't think I've ever been so scared. I kept thinking if we'd lost him for good. This time."

"He's fine now," Hongbin said. He rubbed circles against the small of Hakyeon's back, slow and rhythmic.

"It was so dark and he was so cold, I told him to stay inside but he was outside all this time, because he thought I wouldn't see him. Because of the rain. So he stood outside. He kept apologising."

Hakyeon rubbed the tears violently from his eyes but they wouldn't stop. I'm sorry, and it's gone, over and over even as Hakyeon maneuvered Taekwoon into the car, as Hakyeon had wrapped him in the emergency blanket still in the trunk from winter, the jacket Hakyeon had brought by habit.

'I'm here, I'm here, we're going home, Jaehwan's waiting for us' Hakyeon kept repeating, and he didn't know who he was reassuring. Even after he'd buckled an unresponsive Taekwoon in, even after Hakyeon had started the drive back.

Hakyeon swallowed and bit hard at his lip.

There were so many ways it could've gone wrong. The worst was the thought that Taekwoon hadn't thought to call at all, or didn't have change on him to call. That he'd keep wandering and then a car going too fast in the rain and unable to stop in time—

That Taekwoon would've disappeared, and they'd never find out.

"Well he—" Hongbin bit back his usual cutting remark. He sighed instead, and reached for the box of tissues. "You found him before hypothermia got him, give it some time and you'll all be fine."

Hakyeon wiped his eyes with a tissue and blew his nose, and then added a few more to the gross tissue pile before he dared to sit up.

"Thank you for coming Hongbinnie, even if you don't like Taekwoon," Hakyeon mumbled. He grabbed another tissue.

"Thank Jaehwan, he's the one who dragged me here," Hongbin groused, but there was no heat in it, no annoyance. Just a touch of normalcy that was so Hongbin it grounded Hakyeon, just a bit.

"I will," Hakyeon promised. He reached for the hot chrysanthemum tea, although it was no longer steaming. It helped, just like the hot chocolate Jaehwan had shoved in his face had helped, when they'd finally stepped through the door. "All grown up and thoughtful."

"That's been true for a while," Hongbin said softly. "Except when it came to… you guys."

Hakyeon choked out a laugh. He let his weight fall against Hongbin and marvelled that he had a friend like Hongbin at all. That he had a friend he could lean on, when Hongbin could've so easily stepped away.

"Wonder what made him do that," Hongbin said, glancing towards the room where Taekwoon and Jaehwan were sleeping. "After all those years of his vanishing act."

"We got coffee with him a few weeks ago—more like days, I suppose. He knew right away Jaehwan and I had patched things up," Hakyeon said. He reluctantly grabbed another tissue, wiping his eyes until the tissue was soaked.

"If anyone would it'd be Taekwoon. Even if it's been years, I guess that's hard to forget. And it's not like he's had anything to fill it," Hongbin said.

"What do you mean?"

Hongbin shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "He was hiding while the rest of us were busy living our lives. I'm just saying it doesn't sound like he's done much since then. Probably didn't even bother making friends. He only ever really had us. You."

Hakyeon swallowed thickly, because Hongbin was right.

It was hard not to wonder what it'd been like if Taekwoon hadn't disappeared all those years ago. If they'd kept their little family safe. All the things Taekwoon could've done, all the people Taekwoon could've met when they stepped out of that bubble of school.

Us.

We.

"I told him that 'we' would always have room for him," Hakyeon said slowly, thinking back to that sunny afternoon with iced coffee and pie. "He said that 'we' used to be, and I told him that 'we' could always have him."

Hongbin considered this, fingers tapping against his leg. Hakyeon sipped his cooling tea.

"Well he picked a damn good time for it," Hongbin muttered. "This sort of weather?"

"It was sunny during the day," Hakyeon reminded him.

"Still could've done the sane thing and called you up," Hongbin said. "He knew you guys didn't live there and he still went."

"I don't know," Hakyeon said, and he really was very tired.

All he really knew was that at least for tonight, he'd brought Taekwoon home.

Jaehwan had already been awake an hour or two but he still felt groggy and disoriented. He was perched on one of Hakyeon's kitchen chairs because Hakyeon had demanded Jaehwan to let Taekwoon rest, and then he'd gone and fussed over Taekwoon himself for a few minutes before he finally stopped being a hypocrite. Hongbin had gone home early in the morning before Jaehwan had even awakened, and Jaehwan was sorry he hadn't been able to see Hongbin off. After dragging him into all this.

"How are you feeling?" Hakyeon sat down across from Jaehwan and pushed a fresh cup of coffee in front of him.

"Weird," Jaehwan said honestly. "Like… I mean, Taekwoon's there, I'm here, you're here, but everything's weird. And yesterday… Yesterday doesn't feel real."

"I understand what you mean," Hakyeon said, and his smile was tired and wan. "But it doesn't have to feel real to be real."

Jaehwan nodded, letting the coffee steam warm his face. It smelled good.

"What'd you think will happen when Taekwoon wakes up?" Jaehwan asked. Hakyeon seemed to physically recoil at the question.

"That… will depend on Taekwoon," Hakyeon said slowly.

"And you're sure Hyukkie said Taekwoon just needed to rest?" Jaehwan asked for the fourth or fifth or seventh time that morning.

"Yes, and he also said he'll drop by around lunch," Hakyeon answered indulgently like he had every time. Jaehwan nodded and leaned back, feet still propped on the edge of the seat.

"How'd Sanghyuk know?"

"Hongbin or Wonsik, I imagine," Hakyeon said. Hakyeon had probably told him that already, but Jaehwan was tired and thoughts kept escaping his mind.

Hakyeon looked very, very tired. Unlike Jaehwan, he was sitting up straight like he could hide the exhaustion that way, but it was impossible to hide the heavy weariness in his eyes. Hakyeon had gone out last night in the rain, and Jaehwan had still slept before he had.

"Are you alright, Jaehwan?" Hakyeon asked. He was frowning a bit, and he reached across the table to touch the back of his wrist to Jaehwan's forehead. Hakyeon's skin was a little cool.

"Just tired," Jaehwan said. He picked up the coffee and sipped at it. Hakyeon had dumped in milk and sugar and Jaehwan liked the softness. He didn't always like coffee. He hadn't always liked coffee. It pushed at the fog clouding his thoughts, but barely nudged it aside. Jaehwan sighed and gave up, hunching over and slumping down against the table.

"I want him to stay," Jaehwan said into his coffee. "When he wakes up. I want him to stay."

"I know," Hakyeon said, briefly squeezing Jaehwan's hand. It always made Jaehwan feel a little better.

Jaehwan circled the table, Hakyeon staring at him with bewilderment that immediately softened when Jaehwan dragged one of the chairs closer to Hakyeon so he could sit, pressed against Hakyeon's side. Hakyeon pulled Jaehwan's coffee over to Jaehwan's new seat.

"Even I don't know your number," Jaehwan mumbled, letting his head rest against Hakyeon's shoulder. Bony, but warm. "But he called you. He could've called his family. If he was lost. How'd he get lost?"

He just couldn't seem to wake up.

"Only Taekwoon knows that," Hakyeon said. He paused, something lingering on his tongue. Jaehwan prodded his arm and Hakyeon humoured him with a small smile. "This time, I don't think we should ask."

"So we should ask about last time?" Jaehwan asked.

"That's… not quite what I meant," Hakyeon said.

"I still don't get why he called you," Jaehwan said.

Hakyeon's hesitation said that he didn't either. Everything was strange. Nothing made sense.

"I want Taekwoon to stay," Jaehwan said, and he felt like he'd said that already. Stay with them, and Jaehwan imagined an apartment with three of them shoved into one room like they'd always been. The rabbit could still have her own room. Jaehwan and Hakyeon might have to squish a little, but if they all moved into Jaehwan's apartment there'd be more space—

Too far. That image was too far.

Easier to focus on the now, where Taekwoon was physically meters away, but might've well been on a different planet altogether.

Jaehwan was slowly accepting if last night didn't feel real for him, it'd be little more than a dream for Taekwoon.

Even Jaehwan barely remembered it. Hongbin unearthing piles of towels. Warm clothes. Bitching all the while about not taking responsibility if he turned up Hakyeon's dirty magazines in the process. Jaehwan getting the bath ready the moment Hakyeon texted them.

Jaehwan, frozen on the sofa in fear and indecision, until Hongbin had literally smacked him upside the head.

And then Taekwoon. He'd run to Hakyeon and Taekwoon as soon as he'd seen them down the hall, and they were both so wet. He remembered that. Cold and wet and it was cold and wet even through Jaehwan's clothes. Taekwoon seemed barely conscious, clinging to Jaehwan. Hongbin's towels came into use, cold rain water soaking the fluffy fabric. Hakyeon vanished for a few moments, and for a few moments it was just Taekwoon and Jaehwan alone in the bathroom, Taekwoon seated carefully on a small stool as Jaehwan peeled off that cold and wet clothes.

And Taekwoon had clung to him.

He'd said things too, mumbled, quiet words that hurt Jaehwan to remember. He'd remember them later, when his own head wasn't so foggy. Taekwoon definitely wouldn't remember them. Taekwoon just needed to be warm and dry.

Through it all, Jaehwan refused to let go. Holding Taekwoon and Jaehwan didn't remember Taekwoon feeling this small—Taekwoon and 'small' had never gone together until that moment. Fingers interlinked as Taekwoon sat half submerged in the warm bath, the porcelain cool against Jaehwan's arm.

And then there'd been Hakyeon too, and it'd been all three of them, and Hakyeon was dry again and holding Jaehwan close to his chest. Hakyeon had said things too. To Jaehwan, to Taekwoon, to them both.

Jaehwan remembered waking up, clinging to Taekwoon, and Taekwoon was warm, and Jaehwan was warm. He fell asleep, eyes already closed, still wrapped around Taekwoon like he was his whole world.

Everything felt weird.

Hakyeon pulled Jaehwan closer to him, arm about Jaehwan's waist. He pressed a soft kiss against Jaehwan's temple, before nuzzling against him.

"Stay here a few nights," Hakyeon suggested. "I have the room."

Jaehwan shook his head vehemently. "No, I'm fine by myself," he said. "I… I'll be fine by myself."

His conviction faltered.

"You don't have to be alone," Hakyeon said gently, and damn the man for knowing Jaehwan's fears.

"I'm not scared," Jaehwan said. Hakyeon's eyes widened at the force Jaehwan spoke with.

"I didn't say you were," Hakyeon said, and Jaehwan might've believed him if Hakyeon didn't hold him even tighter.

"I'm fine," Jaehwan said, but that didn't stop him from slumping further against Hakyeon, until Hakyeon was holding almost all his weight, and the only thing stopping Jaehwan from tumbling off entirely was Hakyeon's arm around him.

Something horrible suddenly came to Jaehwan's mind and he shot up, his eyes matching Hakyeon's in alarm. "The photoshoot's in two days!" He'd almost forgotten. Jaehwan chewed at his lip, and looked sideways at the mostly closed door. He...

He didn't know if he could do it.

He didn't know if he could act like he was supposed to. He pulled his feet up onto the chair and slumped over again. What little energy he'd managed to muster drained out of him like water through a bathtub drain with the plug pulled out. He needed that energy.

"Will you be alright?" Hakyeon asked, brows creased in worry, and why did Hakyeon always have to worry about him like that.

Jaehwan nodded furiously as if it'd shake away all the bad thoughts. "Perfect! I'm gonna do it perfectly!" Hakyeon pressed a hand against Jaehwan's back, and Jaehwan needed that touch more than Hakyeon could've known. Whatever Jaehwan said, he had doubts. He'd ruin it. Again. Bring it all down.

No bad thoughts. He couldn't have bad thoughts. And Taekwoon was there, and Jaehwan already hadn't done enough, and if he wasn't here when Taekwoon woke up what would Taekwoon think? But if he knew that Jaehwan had hid from his responsibilities because he was afraid he'd let them down, what would Taekwoon think?

Hakyeon rubbed Jaehwan's shoulder again.

"Can you stay here a little while?" Hakyeon asked, his voice sliding gently into Jaehwan's mind. Jaehwan looked up at him, lips pursed in a question. "Someone needs to feed Sir Hopples. You won't be alone long, Sanghyuk said he'll be here at lunch."

Jaehwan snorted at the memory. Taekwoon sort-of-not-really waking up saying something about Sir Hopples, and Hakyeon was the only one sane enough to put together Taekwoon was talking about his damn rabbit. It'd still taken Hakyeon several minutes to soothe Taekwoon back to sleep, with promises Sir Hopples would be taken care of. Somehow Jaehwan had fallen asleep again too, holding Taekwoon even tighter this time.

And Jaehwan's 'stalking' and ill-gotten knowledge was now helpful.

Jaehwan nodded. "I'll call if he wakes up?" Jaehwan said.

"Thank you," Hakyeon said, and Jaehwan didn't understand how Hakyeon was acting so normal, like everything was alright and nothing was weird. Getting dressed like normal. Finding his keys like normal.

"How are you feeling? Will you be alright?" Jaehwan suddenly asked.

Hakyeon looked so surprised that Jaehwan felt a little guilty. Hakyeon even looked more tired than anyone else. But Hakyeon just smiled, as if amused, and then nodded.

"Take care of him," Hakyeon said. "I promise I'll be back soon."

Taekwoon woke, disoriented and dizzy, with a cold ache in his shoulder and a feeling of emptiness at his side. His eyes refused to open so he let it be, too tired to do more than just lie there. He was tired.

He didn't remember a dream.

Taekwoon woke, disoriented and dizzy and skin burning. He pushed aside the blankets but there were none. The bed was hot. His eyes wouldn't open. He was tired.

He had to feed Sir Hopples. He had to get up.

He didn't remember a dream.

The rain crashes overhead, loud and relentless and crushing. He's scared to open his eyes, to see the world outside of this tiny glass box. He hugged his knees, curled tight as small as he could and the box still seemed too big, too much of a yawning emptiness. The walls pressed against his elbows.

It's loud and wet. He's soaked and it's cold and wet and when he looked up he was still surrounded by flames. There was nothing else. Just the rain and the fire. Empty silhouettes hovered around him. Taekwoon knew they hadn't always been empty. He'd made them empty. They hadn't always been empty because he remembers an extended hand and someone calling his name. He didn't know how long it'd been raining. Since before the box started shrinking. He knows that. A basketball rolls towards him and the glass finally begins to crack under the weight of the rain and the box explodes, disintegrates into crystalline powder and the rain swallows him and there is nothing to stop the burning basketball from bumping against his legs.

It wasn't hot but it hurt and Taekwoon shied away but the ground tilted and it rolled down and down and down, chasing Taekwoon like a demon. He needed to run. He needed to escape but he'd been curled up for so long he was frozen and—

Taekwoon woke, throat tight chest tight breath tight and all around him it was empty empty empty—

"Taekwoon!"

His eyes closed because he was dizzy and disoriented. The blanket was heavy but warm, and the hand on his shoulder was soft and warm, and he was so, so tired.

He didn't remember dreaming.

He was exhausted and his body was heavy. He opened his eyes and he wasn't in his room, and he wasn't in the rabbit's room. He wasn't in his bed, either. The pillow was softer, and there was only one. He was alone, but he hadn't always been. He remembered a warm presence beside him, holding him safe.

He remembered Hakyeon calling his name through the rain.

That was right. Hakyeon had found him. Hakyeon had said they were going home. They were all going home.

Taekwoon opened his eyes again.

"Hakyeon?" he tried. A scratchy half sound, as tired as he felt. Maybe this was the dream, because he didn't remember dreaming. His eyelids were heavy and he was tired but he was also awake.

The door opened a crack and Taekwoon felt the light seep in—and then it flooded the room as the door was slammed open.

"You're awake!?"

Jaehwan was always so loud.

Taekwoon groaned and rolled over and covered his head with the pillow. "Loud…" Taekwoon mumbled.

"Actually awake?" Jaehwan demanded, and then yelled towards the door: "Hakyeon!"

"I told you to let him rest!" Hakyeon hissed, running down the hall to pull Jaehwan out by the arm but then he stopped, a shadow in the doorway. Taekwoon lifted the pillow so he could take a peek.

"Hakyeon?" Taekwoon tried again and this time it came out as a sound. Time seemed to skip a beat because Hakyeon was somehow on him, arms wrapped around him, and he was heavy on Taekwoon's back.

"Thank god," Hakyeon breathed. "You're alright. You're okay."

"Can't breathe," Taekwoon mumbled into the bed. Hakyeon leapt back and Hakyeon had been heavy but he'd also been soft and warm. The bed dipped under him, Hakyeon sitting carefully on the edge.

"'Let him rest,'" Jaehwan said mockingly, but when Taekwoon turned onto his side to look, red ringed the edges of Jaehwan's eyes.

Jaehwan's waiting. Hakyeon's words floated through the murky sea of Taekwoon's memory. He remembered calling Hakyeon. Waiting for Hakyeon. And then Hakyeon bundling Taekwoon up: we're going home. Jaehwan's waiting.

Taekwoon swallowed and wanted to pull the blankets over his head, or hide again under the pillow.

"I caused trouble, I'm sorry," Taekwoon said, just barely. They didn't feel like the right words, but the right words wouldn't come. He was awake but his brain was foggy, like dragging a spoon through over beaten egg whites.

"Nonsense," Hakyeon said firmly. "What matters is you're safe. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Taekwoon answered.

"You slept for ages," Jaehwan complained from the foot of the bed. Taekwoon didn't know when Jaehwan had gotten there. Time was sticky.

"Let me get you some water," Hakyeon said, ignoring Jaehwan. Taekwoon felt the mattress shift as Hakyeon stood, and he suddenly felt crowded. Sometimes he let Sir Hopples sleep on his bed, but she wasn't heavy enough to make a dent.

Sir Hopples.

Taekwoon sat up in a panic, trying to push aside the blankets but the world spun and he had to close his eyes to keep it from falling out under him. Someone was yelling at him in the distance through a thick layer of cotton, and he finally felt steady. His skin was numb and prickling. It was several moments before Taekwoon registered touch, that someone else was holding him steady.

"Where are you going?" Jaehwan snapped.

"Sir Hopples… My rabbit," Taekwoon explained. He opened his eyes but his vision was still spotty.

"Oh, Hakyeon already fed it," Jaehwan said. "I told him your address and he borrowed your keys—oh, and he told your work you were sick."

Taekwoon's heart sank further and further as Jaehwan spoke, casually peeling away layers of Taekwoon's life like it wasn't an increasing degree of invasion of privacy. Words vanished in his throat.

"Jaehwan!" Hakyeon had returned and he stared disapprovingly at Jaehwan who just pouted.

"What? It's true," Jaehwan said.

"It could've waited," Hakyeon said. He handed Taekwoon a mug of citron tea, warm but not scalding. It felt good between Taekwoon's hands. "Your rabbit will be fine, although I may have given it too much food yesterday."

Hakyeon smiled sheepishly as Taekwoon blinked, still trying to process it all. The tea was sweet, and his throat felt better, his mouth less dry.

"Yesterday?" Taekwoon clung to. "How long…"

"Two days, but you kinda woke up yesterday talking about your rabbit—not that we knew it was your rabbit but Hakyeon figured it out eventually so he went to feed it," Jaehwan supplied, talking too loud to hear what Hakyeon had started saying.

"Hakyeon?" Taekwoon prompted. It made Jaehwan stop.

"Oh, it isn't so important," Hakyeon started. Jaehwan gave Hakyeon a tight mouthed look and Hakyeon sighed. "Why did you not call your family? You listed your sister as an emergency contact at your work, but I didn't want to call her without asking first."

Taekwoon looked down at his knees. "I don't remember," he said, and then, in a small voice, "please don't call."

"Then I won't," Hakyeon said. "Don't worry about Sir Hopples, I'll take care of her."

Taekwoon shook his head. "Can you drive me home? I can—"

"No." Jaehwan cut Taekwoon off. Jaehwan hadn't let go of Taekwoon's arm and his grip tightened so much it hurt. Taekwoon whimpered, trying to get away without spilling the tea, but Jaehwan wasn't letting go. His eyes were steely hard when Taekwoon raised his head, but more than that Jaehwan looked scared.

"I'm not gonna let you," Jaehwan said. "You can't just run away again. You can't just leave, and you're not better."

"Jaehwan's right," Hakyeon said, and his expression was blank. Carefully blank, and Taekwoon didn't know what Hakyeon was thinking. Jaehwan loosened his hold on Taekwoon's arm, but he didn't let go.

"I'm causing trouble," Taekwoon said, looking down again.

"It'd be more troublesome if you collapsed," Hakyeon said. "Just… rest here a bit longer, okay Taekwoon? We want you here. Jaehwan and I want you here. You aren't causing trouble. You can stay here as long as you want."

As long as he wanted.

"And you haven't eaten in two days, so we should first take care of that," Hakyeon added.

Taekwoon suddenly noticed he was hungry.

"If Hakyeon's not gonna say it, then I am," Jaehwan blurted. "Because you caused a lot of trouble. A lot. D'you know how hard it was for Hakyeon to find you? You keep saying 'sorry', but you still haven't said 'thank you'! You can't just apologise and leave. I don't want your apologies, we don't want your apologies, and I don't want you to go because you're here, and this is where you're supposed to be."

"I should go home," Taekwoon said.

Jaehwan shook his head violently and grabbed Taekwoon's mug from his hands, ignoring the tea sloshing over the edges. Hakyeon made a small sound and reached towards Jaehwan, but Jaehwan just turned and put it on the nearby table before whipping back to face Taekwoon.

"Why'd you do that? Why'd you go there? Why'd you keep saying it's gone? You were trying to go home but it was gone, but it's not gone. It was never gone."

"Jaehwan," Hakyeon warned. But when had that ever stopped Jaehwan.

"We're here, aren't we? You said we're not there and we're not, because we're here, and you would've known if you hadn't disappeared and gone into hiding."

"'While the rest of us were busy living our lives,'" Hakyeon said softly and he was just as surprised as the other two at his own words. Taekwoon's head was pounding and his skin felt warm. Hakyeon reached for Taekwoon's face and Taekwoon instinctively recoiled at the touch, a full half breath before his shoulders loosened. Hakyeon's hand was cool against Taekwoon's forehead, and when Taekwoon glanced down, Hakyeon was holding Jaehwan's wrist with his other hand.

"You're still warm but the fever's gone," Hakyeon said.

Taekwoon swallowed. "I wasn't hiding," he said. Lied. Even he knew it was a lie.

"I wanted to wait until you were feeling better, but Taekwoon, I think we need to talk," Hakyeon said. He glanced at Jaehwan. "The three of us."

Taekwoon was silent. For some odd reason, Jaehwan as well.

"Hongbin can be a bit harsh at times but he's usually right," Hakyeon started slowly.

"Hongbin?" Taekwoon and Jaehwan echoed at the same time. They looked at each other, and Taekwoon just as quickly looked away. Met Hakyeon's eyes.

"Well he said a lot of things, but he also said that…" Hakyeon took a deep breath and tilted his head back to look briefly at the ceiling. "You made a decision for all of us that wasn't yours alone to make."

Without the mug Taekwoon's hands were empty. His fingers dug into his thighs. He couldn't raise his head. He hadn't been able to raise his head.

"Hongbin called you selfish and it was selfish, but we don't blame you because—"

"I do," Jaehwan interjected. "Can't I? It was selfish and maybe it's 'cause you were scared or whatever excuse Hakyeon's gonna make for you, but that doesn't change what you did. And… and you hurt a lot of people."

"Jaehwan!"

"I'm talking about you," Jaehwan yelled at Hakyeon. "Especially you! I… "

"I'm sorry," Taekwoon said, blinking furiously. "I just… didn't want to cause trouble."

"That seems to be a theme," Jaehwan said.

Hakyeon choked out a laugh, and he was crying. His eyes were wet with tears.

"What sort of trouble did you think you would cause?" Hakyeon asked, smiling through his tears. Or at least, he tried.

Because he'd be useless. Because he couldn't match Hakyeon's brilliance or Jaehwan's sunshine. Because he had nothing to give. Because they wanted him to be something, to be someone, and he'd been nothing more than a void, a pit of emptiness.

"You thought you would lose basketball, but you're—"

Taekwoon shook his head. No. It wasn't that. "Not…"

"You are so much more than just basketball," Hakyeon said, but that was wrong, that wasn't what Taekwoon meant at all. Taekwoon shook his head again, and he couldn't find the words. He'd never been able to find the words.

"Not basketball," Taekwoon said, anything to keep Hakyeon from saying more. "It was…"

Because he'd been pathetic. Because…

Because he hadn't wanted them to see him like that.

"I dragged you down," Taekwoon said. "So you… The two of you…"

There never was the two of us. A cold spring day with a bright sun, a deflated basketball, and a set of swings.

"'Don't put your guilt on me,' what did you mean by that?" Jaehwan asked, and those words sounded so familiar because they were Taekwoon's own words.

Words from a cold spring day with a bright sun, an old basketball net, and an empty bench.

"I thought about it and I kept thinking about it," Jaehwan said, "because you said 'back then', but… But you disappeared. After."

"The ankle thing," and that was Hakyeon, again as startled as anyone at what he'd said. He looked at Jaehwan over Taekwoon, and Jaehwan ducked his head. "Is it?"

"I…" Jaehwan started, but finished with a small nod.

"And you felt sorry for that all these years?" Hakyeon asked.

"I tried to apologise," Jaehwan said in a small voice. "But you never said anything and you left without saying anything. I didn't know if it's 'cause you were ignoring me, until I finally remembered you disappeared into the hospital and no one saw or heard from you again."

Ah. Taekwoon had forgotten. It wouldn't hurt to admit it now. To admit: "my mom gave me everything. Messages, cards. Everything you said, she told me. I knew it all. But I… I didn't know what to do Jaehwan," and this wasn't what he'd wanted to admit.

It spilled out anyway, even though Taekwoon hugged his arms to his chest like he could hold it in through sheer force, squeezed his eyes shut as if it'd block out the world. He swallowed and swallowed again, and the words kept coming.

"You felt sorry, you were sorry, but nothing was your fault. It was mine—and Hakyeon, I couldn't be who you wanted me to be, I… You kept saying I was strong but I'm not, I wasn't. I wasn't any of it. And I… I wanted to be alone. I want to be alone."

The last bit hurt. It hurt to say.

He wanted to be left alone.

All he wanted was to be left alone.

"But do you?" Jaehwan, blunt as always.

Hakyeon rubbed soothing circles against Taekwoon's back, Taekwoon bent over, folded as tight as he could, shoulders hunched over, arms crushed between his chest and his legs. He hated crying. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want them to see him crying.

"None of that matters, Taekwoon. It's never mattered, I love you for being you. I don't need you to be anything, I don't want you to be anything, I just want you," Hakyeon said, and Taekwoon didn't want to hear the way Hakyeon's voice kept breaking, the stutter in his words. "But you are strong even if you can't see it. How long did I know you, how much did we go through together? Being afraid isn't being weak. Needing—wanting—people, that's not weak either. You don't need to be alone, we don't want you to be alone either. Didn't we say we'd always be together? That we'd always be a team? That the two of us, and then the three of us, that we were unbreakable, unbeatable? Did you forget that?"

"But we weren't," Taekwoon said, swallowing down his sobs. "We weren't, and I wasn't, because I couldn't—"

"It's normal to lose! Even if you're the best team or the best player, you can lose, but that doesn't mean you just give up," Jaehwan said. "You can't just give up, and as long as you don't give up then… then you haven't really lost. Or… something like that."

Those were Hakyeon's words. Taekwoon remembered them. How often Hakyeon had said them. As captain. As friend.

"Jaehwan's right, for once," Hakyeon said, and even Taekwoon couldn't help the small laugh interrupting his tears.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone," Taekwoon said, but the words came out mangled, he'd cry if he wasn't biting down on his lip. He'd cry, and he wouldn't stop crying. He wanted to keep the hurt all for himself.

"You're kind, you never would," Hakyeon said. "And we all know that. And if you'd come to us and said that, said that what you wanted was to be alone, and it was really what you'd wanted, it might hurt for a little but not forever. But that's never been what you wanted, is it? You were never any good at lying, you know that."

Taekwoon shook his head, the motion rubbing tear-stained cheeks against his arms, skin rough and raw. It hurt. Just a little, it hurt.

His heart hurt too. His chest hurt. His bones hurt and his skin hurt and everything in between ached like it'd been doused with acid. He was crying, he wanted to stop crying, and until he stopped crying he couldn't breathe. He just choked on his tears.

He hadn't wanted to make Hakyeon cry. He hadn't wanted to make Jaehwan cry.

He hadn't wanted to leave.

He'd wanted to disappear, but he hadn't wanted to leave. He'd wanted to vanish, but he didn't want to let go.

He'd wanted to be nothingness, but he didn't want to be left with nothing.

So he'd chosen to take nothing and hide, until the world finally passed him by.

In the end, the world had still found him, plucked him from his fox hole, and forced him to face everything he'd tried to leave behind. In the end, that was the truth of existence, incessant and unavoidable. No one could flee their past.

He didn't want to be alone.

He lost his balance and tumbled sideways and he was suddenly enveloped on all sides. He'd fallen against Hakyeon but Jaehwan threw himself against Taekwoon's back, arms wrapped tight about Taekwoon's waist. Hakyeon bent over them both, brushing his fingers through Taekwoon's hair, Taekwoon's head resting on Hakyeon's lap.

He missed them. He missed this. He missed it so much.

And he was the one who'd taken it away.

The thought clamped around his wrists, crushing his bones, but the bracelet was safe, slid further up his arm. The bracelet.

The one thing he'd never been able to let go. The one thing he'd never been able to throw away.

"'We' will always have space for you as long as you want it. Always, Taekwoon. Always."

Taekwoon blinked his way into wakefulness, staring up at the ceiling of Hakyeon's guest room. His eyes were itchy and he rubbed at them but it only made it worse. His face was itchy too. He didn't know how long he'd slept, but slivers of sunlight spilled out the edges of the curtains. Either it'd been another whole day or a few hours, because it'd been mid morning when he'd been ushered out of bed to eat. He didn't think it'd been a whole day. He'd managed half a bowl of rice and a mug of instant coffee before drowsiness had overtaken him again.

Hakyeon had probably forced Taekwoon back into bed after that.

He remembered Jaehwan hovering, sitting on the floor even though there was a perfectly good chair, listening to something on his phone. He seemed small and sad and Taekwoon had wanted to reach out to him, to tell him things would be okay, that Jaehwan could always depend on him—

habit. Taekwoon hadn't been dependable in years. He hadn't been able to protect anyone in years.

The room was empty now.

Taekwoon sat up slowly and this time the dizziness was momentary and vanished quickly. Every part of him still felt tired, but no longer felt like he was made of blocks of wood.

Jaehwan had a recording session, and Hakyeon had a meeting with his editor and would feed Sir Hopples, but Sanghyuk was coming soon, and if Taekwoon woke up before Hakyeon or Jaehwan got back, Sanghyuk would be there. Taekwoon hadn't seen Sanghyuk in a very long time. He wondered what Sanghyuk was like now.

Taekwoon looked around him, taking in the room for the first time. It was dim and full of shadows with the light off and the curtains closed, but between the cracked open door and the sunlight filtering in, there was just enough to see by. Other than the rumpled blankets and Taekwoon's neatly folded clean clothes on top of the low dresser, the room looked like a page in a catalogue, or a maze-like furniture store. Both. It was neat and tidy and Taekwoon bet that if he slid open the closet door it'd be just as neat and tidy inside. He wondered if this was someone's room, but Hakyeon said he lived alone, and he didn't have a rabbit room like Taekwoon had. It was just a fully furnished spare bedroom full of light colours and bright fabrics. It was… very Hakyeon.

Hakyeon. Hakyeon and Jaehwan. Jaehwan and Hakyeon. Jaehwan had stayed at Hakyeon's over the night too, but he'd probably shared Hakyeon's bed. They used to do that. All of them in the same bed. A big bed, because Jaehwan kicked.

Their bed. Taekwoon would give anything to curl up on it again, warm and safe and secure even if he napped alone, and a haven when it was a warmth he could share. It was gone, just like the entire building was gone.

And yet, for a few minutes a few hours ago, he'd been wrapped in that same warmth. He'd been given another chance.

Taekwoon squeezed his eyes shut, head resting in his hands, supported by elbows propped on his knees. Soft flannel pyjama pants, a little short at the ankles because they were Hakyeon's.

Think about it, Hakyeon had said, his hand on Taekwoon's knee. You don't have to decide immediately, but think about it.

Jaehwan had just wrapped his arms about Taekwoon's waist, his chest pressed against Taekwoon's back, chin resting on Taekwoon's shoulder, refusing to let go. When Hakyeon had said that, Jaehwan's embrace had turned crushing. Taekwoon could only nod.

He didn't understand. After all that, why would they still want him, at all?

Weeks, months, Jaehwan had been right. Taekwoon brushed his fingers against his face as if he could feel the bruise Jaehwan had left. He didn't remember what he'd told his coworkers and the kids. Maybe he'd said nothing at all.

Taekwoon didn't want to think about it.

He swallowed, his heart in his throat. He couldn't think about it. It didn't feel right to leave the bed as it was so he folded the blankets, straightened the bedsheet, folded the borrowed pyjamas and left them on the pillow. He couldn't think about it. He couldn't think.

His own clothes felt strange and constricting, recently washed and dried. It didn't seem like they were back, and when Taekwoon hesitantly opened the bedroom door, he didn't see anyone else either. If he didn't leave now, he wouldn't get another chance.

He could apologise later.

He still hadn't said 'thank you'.

Later.

He blinked, making his half remembered way down the hall and past the kitchen and when he put on his shoes they were still a bit damp inside. Taekwoon glanced over his shoulder and when no one was there, he opened the front door to Hakyeon's apartment and left.

Without saying a word.

They would hate him after this. Truly hate him. He blinked furiously and rubbed at his eyes, walking quickly down the empty hall, in hopefully the direction of the elevator. He didn't know. He didn't remember. He knew there'd been an elevator. There'd still be an elevator.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Taekwoon froze, the deep voice strangely familiar but it wasn't Hakyeon or Jaehwan and maybe they weren't talking to him but talking to someone else altogether—

"That's also the wrong way."

Taekwoon turned slowly and it was Sanghyuk, only a few steps away. He knew, logically, that it was Sanghyuk. But Sanghyuk had been small and scrawny. This Sanghyuk was neither small and definitely not scrawny.

"You… grew," Taekwoon said dumbly. Sanghyuk was taller than Taekwoon now, and Taekwoon didn't need to step up next to him to know that. Sanghyuk had grown big. Broad shoulders, tall, sturdy.

"Hi, long time no see," Sanghyuk said, with a small wave.

"It has been some time," Taekwoon said carefully.

"It's pretty rude to leave without saying anything," Sanghyuk said, and he was very firmly blocking the way between Taekwoon and the elevator. "Hakyeon entrusted you to me, so let's go back, shall we?"

Taekwoon wanted to ask when Sanghyuk had gotten so tall, was he eating well, what was he eating that'd turned him into this, was it difficult being a doctor, and to tell Sanghyuk he'd done well, but the need to leave was consuming him. He didn't think he could face Sanghyuk. He couldn't face anyone. He shook his head and tried to step around Sanghyuk, knowing it wouldn't work even before he tried.

He wasn't exactly expecting Sanghyuk to literally grab him by the waist and pick him up.

"Nope, we're going back," Sanghyuk said. Taekwoon was too stunned to do anything except let Sanghyuk carry him, a grown man, back into Hakyeon's apartment and lock the door behind him. Taekwoon looked behind him in vague panic. Sanghyuk blocked his way, sturdier than a wall, and he quirked an eyebrow at Taekwoon.

"Don't make me sit on you," Sanghyuk said, sounding like he'd very happily sit on Taekwoon and probably crush him. "I brought pizza. I'm supposed to make sure you eat, and both Hakyeon and Jaehwan would be pretty angry if you didn't. They're kinda annoying to deal with, especially Hakyeon."

Taekwoon's head was spinning. Images of bolting past Sanghyuk and down the hall quickly vanished. His heart was pounding, but Taekwoon felt like he had no choice but to neatly remove his shoes, and be shooed into the kitchen. It felt like his heart would explode through his back. He just wanted to leave. He couldn't face them.

"Should still be warm," Sanghyuk said, as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink. Taekwoon nodded and followed Sanghyuk's motions, sitting down at the same table he'd sat at not so long ago. This time not with his old boyfriends, but with his junior who'd… grown.

Really grown.

"There's tons of garlic sauce if that's your thing," Sanghyuk said, sitting down across from Taekwoon. He dropped the box in the middle of the table as well as two plates, snagging a plate for himself.

"That's Jaehwan," Taekwoon said.

"Might have been yours too," Sanghyuk said, and these intervening years had infused Sanghyuk with a confidence Taekwoon would never dream of. Sanghyuk had always been a little brash and cheeky but this was different.

"Go on, eat. Doctor's orders," Sanghyuk said, and he still had that cheeky smile that always made Taekwoon laugh. Even now, it was hard to hide it.

Taekwoon grabbed a slice of pizza, still warm as Sanghyuk had said, and stuffed it into his mouth. He was hungry.

"Hakyeon was pretty freaked out when I called last morning, I think he was half-convinced you were dying," Sanghyuk said casually. Taekwoon didn't dare to look up, just focussed on chewing. "Dried you off and warmed you up, and the rest was just fatigue. You probably needed the sleep. You haven't been sleeping well."

"I haven't," Taekwoon admitted around a mouthful of pizza.

"Or eating?" Sanghyuk followed up with.

Taekwoon didn't know. He didn't remember. He shrugged.

"Hm," Sanghyuk hummed. He suddenly perked up, grinning, like he'd remembered something. "Oh, if you ever see Hongbin you should run."

"Hongbin?" Taekwoon asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, he's pretty pissed at you. He'd definitely take a swing or two if he gets a chance," Sanghyuk said.

Taekwoon made a note of that. If he saw Hongbin, run.

"And you?" Taekwoon asked. He spoke without thinking, a worryingly frequent occurrence lately.

"Me? I'm not the punching type, but I wouldn't stop him, if that's what you're asking." Sanghyuk shrugged, plopping another slice of pizza into Taekwoon's plate. "Besides, you probably make yourself feel worse than anyone could make you feel bad."

Taekwoon blinked, and reached for the cup of water he'd been drinking earlier. He didn't know when it'd gotten there, but he tried not to think too hard about it. He didn't want to think about what Sanghyuk meant, either. His stomach felt heavy, and it wasn't with food.

Sanghyuk seemed content to let Taekwoon eat in silence for a bit, although his eyes were sharp like a hawk's.

While Taekwoon hadn't been looking, Sanghyuk had grown into a fine, young man.

While Taekwoon had been hiding, everyone else had been busy living their lives.

He took another bite of pizza.

"I used to look up to you a lot."

Taekwoon had just eaten the last bite of crust, and he looked down at his empty plate. He'd accidentally met Sanghyuk's eyes.

"You were tall and cool and could really jump. But it was because watching you play always made me excited to play. Even if I was tired, even when I wanted to skip practice or quit. I wanted to be like that one day—that's what I thought when I was still in high school. After your accident, my biggest regret was never playing with you on the same team, but my second biggest was never telling you that."

You looked up to me?

"I guess that's one of them done," Sanghyuk said. He propped his chin on his hand, peering at Taekwoon like Taekwoon was some museum specimen. "Jaehwan said he was surprised you hadn't quit basketball, but that's not how I see it. You did quit. You quit the moment you chose to walk away."

Taekwoon clutched his mug with both hands and lifted it to his face.

"Talking to you really is like talking to a brick wall sometimes," Sanghyuk mused. "But you're way more brick-y than I remember."

"Uh?"

Sanghyuk grinned, sitting back in his seat. "That is exactly what I mean," he said. "Well I guess I checked one thing off my bucket list. You can take the rest of the pizza with you, I'm gonna make Hakyeon get actual groceries later."

He frowned as he parsed Sanghyuk's words. The pizza made Taekwoon thirsty, and he downed half the cup of water at once.

"You mean… that's it?" Taekwoon asked, lowering the mug.

"Hm?" Sanghyuk raised his eyebrows.

"You'll let me go?"

"I'm not kidnapping you," Sanghyuk said with a laugh. He got to his feet, and he towered over Taekwoon now that Taekwoon was sitting. Sanghyuk picked something up from the coffee table, and when he came back, he put Taekwoon's wallet and keys in front of him.

"You might want these," Sanghyuk said.

Taekwoon's mouth went dry. He'd nearly left without them. "Thank you," he said, collecting them.

"You're thanking the wrong person," Sanghyuk said with a shrug.

"I… Could you thank Hakyeon for me when he gets back? And Jaehwan," Taekwoon said hesitantly. He stood as well, and Sanghyuk was still very big.

"I'd say you can do it yourself and I think you should, but I can't stop you," Sanghyuk said. They both ignored that Sanghyuk very clearly could stop Taekwoon.

"Oh, wait." Sanghyuk stopped Taekwoon just as he was about to open the door. He jogged over to the coffee table where it looked like he'd been lounging with his ipad, covering the distance in a few steps. When he came back, he pressed a sheet of paper into Taekwoon's hand.

"It's dangerous to go alone, take this," Sanghyuk said.

Taekwoon looked at the list of five phone numbers and names, and felt a sudden rush of heat in his eyes. He already knew one of them.

"In case Hakyeon doesn't pick up next time," Sanghyuk said, although they both knew that'd never happen. "Well. Safe travels. I'll let the grandpas know you ditched."

"Is this really okay?" Sanghyuk locked the door and turned to face Hakyeon, as Hakyeon stepped into view.

Hakyeon nodded, even if it broke his heart. "Like you said, we're not kidnappers," Hakyeon said with a small laugh.

"Official doctor recommendation is additional bed rest, no strenuous activity, preferably under supervision," Sanghyuk said. "Pizza?"

"I had lunch earlier," Hakyeon reminded Sanghyuk.

"Your loss," Sanghyuk said. Hakyeon didn't want to know how much pizza Sanghyuk had consumed today alone.

Hakyeon needed some hot, fortifying tea. His cute hot water dispenser was a god send. Maybe honey ginger. He had a jar of the jelly in the fridge.

"I could still haul him back if you want," Sanghyuk offered. "He's not that heavy."

Hakyeon closed the fridge door and very gently slammed his forehead against it. "No kidnapping," Hakyeon said. "Please."

"Offer stands for… probably three more minutes," Sanghyuk said, checking the time on his phone. "No guarantees once he gets to the station."

"No," Hakyeon said firmly. He added an extra spoon of the tea jelly into the mug before filling it with steaming hot water, the smell of honey ginger immediately wafting up into Hakyeon's face. "Hyukkie, do you want some?"

"I hate ginger," Sanghyuk said. Hakyeon glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the absolutely disgusted face Sanghyuk was making.

"'Your loss,'" Hakyeon mimicked. He grabbed another mug from the cabinet.

Sanghyuk laughed. He grabbed his plate, loaded with another two slices, and plopped himself back on the couch. He hadn't been sitting for more than a second before he jumped up again to turn on Hakyeon's game system, grabbing the two controllers and remote at once.

"If you never see Taekwoon again, don't blame me," Sanghyuk said casually, turning on the TV and switching the input over. "Don't expect me to handle Jaehwan for you either."

"I know," Hakyeon said, heart heavy. He walked over to the living room much more slowly. He put one of the mugs down in front of Sanghyuk. Hakyeon grinned at the way Sanghyuk physically recoiled. Served him right.

Hakyeon felt very tired. He circled the coffee table and sat on Sanghyuk's other side, leaning back against the sofa, holding the mug between both hands. The photo album Hongbin had brought a few days ago sat on the table in front of him. He remembered knocking it onto the floor, but didn't remember picking it up. One of the kids must have. It was surprisingly big, a full sized book instead of one of those small square ones.

"Hongbin, right?" Sanghyuk asked. He'd flipped to the soccer game, the loading screen ready for a new game. Sanghyuk put the controller down instead and reached for the album with a glance at Hakyeon. Hakyeon nodded. He'd turned a few pages of it earlier, so he understood Sanghyuk's impressed whistle.

"I knew he had a photography phase, but this is something else," Sanghyuk said, turning back to the first page. It was a shot of their practice gym—two shots, to be more precise. The gym set against the clear blue afternoon sky. The building blotting out the setting sun. It was very artistic.

Hakyeon watched Sanghyuk slowly turn the pages of memories Sanghyuk hadn't been a part of, and that Hakyeon had lived but barely remembered.

"Shouldn't he have been practicing, not taking pictures of you practicing?" Sanghyuk asked. He'd paused on a picture of a scrimmage, Taekwoon caught mid-jump in a tip-off he'd win, the image frozen for eternity.

"That may be when he was out with an ankle injury," Hakyeon said.

"All of these?" Sanghyuk asked, flipping through the pages.

Hakyeon smiled, thinking of how Hongbin would grab his camera during water breaks, or how he'd hung around when Taekwoon had dragged Hakyeon relentlessly into practice long after they were supposed to have gone home. There were so many pictures of Taekwoon. Taekwoon alive, laughing, and beautiful.

"Taekwoon practiced… a lot," Hakyeon said.

They weren't all from practice. The moment Wonsik had spilled his iced coffee on Jaehwan's shirt, walking too close. Hakyeon at the cat cafe, a tabby clinging to his shoulder while a black cat purred happily on his lap. Three-on-threes at the court by the river, Jaehwan's jump shot just leaving his fingers, Taekwoon ready for the rebound that never came, Hakyeon just off frame. So many memories from so short a fraction of their lives.

"Huh, I thought he was more into landscapes and flowers and stuff," Sanghyuk said. Taekwoon with two sticks of dango in his mouth while Jaehwan tried to shove in a third. Studying in the locker room before a game, because Taekwoon had forgotten about an exam until that day. Wonsik clinging to Jaehwan, Jaehwan's face scrunched up in annoyance.

"Me too," Hakyeon admitted, because that was what he remembered Hongbin doing the most.

"Some of these are different," Sanghyuk said. Square photos, softer light, like looking through nostalgia itself. Hakyeon didn't know when this had been taken—him and Taekwoon and Jaehwan all piled on each other with Taekwoon at the bottom of the pile, somewhere outside on the grass. Taekwoon with his arms around Jaehwan, leaning against Jaehwan's shoulder. On the bus, Jaehwan napping with his head on Taekwoon's lap in the back row, Wonsik hovering just barely in view. Jaehwan with a giant bouquet of flowers, peering at the camera over them, grin a mile wide.

"Film, I think," Hakyeon said. "Most of these are, I hope he has the negatives somewhere or at least another copy."

"Relax, I'm sure he trusts you with these," Sanghyuk said. "Amazingly enough."

"Brat," Hakyeon grumbled.

And then a series of pictures taken during games. From up on the bleachers. Taekwoon dunking the ball. Taekwoon scoring a hook shot. Taekwoon driving a ball down the court. Even pictures that weren't of Taekwoon, Hakyeon only saw Taekwoon on the court. The stadium light glinting off the bracelet on Taekwoon's wrist.

"What happened here?" Sanghyuk asked. "Ankle again?"

Hakyeon laughed softly, reaching over to turn the page. "He got suspended for fighting," Hakyeon said. "Defending Taekwoon's honour, of all things."

"Taekwoon?" Sanghyuk stared incredulously at Hakyeon, and then at the photos.

"The other team said some… very rude things about Taekwoon," Hakyeon summarised. "Hongbin wasn't too happy about it, and then started arguing with the ref when the ref tried to break the fight up. And that always goes well."

"That I can see," Sanghyuk said.

"He wasn't even allowed on the court," Hakyeon said. "And then he got mad at Taekwoon for not fighting back—of course Taekwoon knew better than to get himself suspended. Even Jaehwan did."

"Taekwoon having better judgement than Hongbin? That must've been something to see," Sanghyuk said, grinning, and Hakyeon had a bad feeling Hongbin would be tearing Hakyeon apart before long.

"I thought you weren't allowed to wear jewelry on the court," Sanghyuk said, pointing at another picture.

"You're not," Hakyeon said. "Taekwoon was pretty bad at forgetting. It's probably the only thing Jaehwan was more careful than Taekwoon about."

"For someone so keen on disappearing, I'd thought he'd have gotten rid of it ages ago," Sanghyuk said, finally closing the album, shutting away the portal to the past. "Not to mention the two of you. What's up with it anyway? Jaehwan said something about 'a promise' but even he wasn't clear."

Hakyeon sighed, turning the bracelet about his wrist until the English faced up.

"I'm the one who said that," Hakyeon said.

"I figured," Sanghyuk said. "It's why you ditched Jaehwan back then, isn't it?"

"What?" The word was out of Hakyeon's mouth before he registered what exactly Sanghyuk had said.

"Why you ditched Jaehwan," Sanghyuk repeated. "Y'know, instead of breaking up."

"Sanghyuk, what are you trying to say?"

"Be Free. Freedom, right? I know that much English. And why else do you keep letting Taekwoon go?"

"A promise," Hakyeon echoed. He exhaled, shaking his head a little. The bracelet was still bright after all these years. "They were a souvenir."

"From a trip?" Sanghyuk asked.

"Mmhmm. I saw them and thought it'd look good on them, it does, don't you think? And… I liked the meaning."

"Freedom?" Sanghyuk said again.

"Yes," Hakyeon said.

"From you?"

Hakyeon opened his mouth and then sighed. He clasped his hands and looked down at them. "You make it sound like a bad thing, when you put it like that," he said.

"Does it?" Sanghyuk asked. He shrugged, rolling his shoulders back in a stretch. "It's stupid and hypocritical, sure."

"Taekwoon and I were very young when we first met. And then we met Jaehwan in high school. Just like that it became the three of us and basketball. I wanted them to remember that there was so much more out there, so many more people to meet, and so many more things to do. Do you think that's foolish, Hyukkie?" Hakyeon asked, fingers squeezing each other tighter.

"I didn't say it's foolish, I said it's hypocritical," Sanghyuk said.

"How?" Hakyeon asked.

"You were gonna get it for just the two of them, but you got yourself one to match, didn't you?" Sanghyuk pointed out.

"Well, yes, I didn't want to feel left out," Hakyeon said with a small laugh, holding out his wrist.

"Then everything you said should be true for you too, but you're probably going to say something like 'I'll always be there for you to come home to,' or I dunno, something even cheesier," Sanghyuk said. It was an uncomfortably good impression of Hakyeon.

"It's not cheesy," Hakyeon protested.

"Ah, so it's true," Sanghyuk said triumphantly.

"I… don't know?" Hakyeon said.

He really didn't.

"See, hypocritical," Sanghyuk said.

Hakyeon glanced at the photo album, and then let his eyes close. Why do you think it was only for them? and I never meant to get one for myself.

"I know," Hakyeon said quietly. He braced for more of Sanghyuk's needling, but there was only silence.

"I never thanked you," Hakyeon said. "If it weren't for you and Hongbin, I don't know if Jaehwan and I…"

"Would've kissed and made up?" Sanghyuk suggested. "You're welcome. It was exhausting seeing Jaehwan mope everywhere. And his APM got horrible, we couldn't just sit back and do nothing."

"A-P what?" Hakyeon asked.

"A. P. M," Sanghyuk said again, only slower, like that cleared anything up. "The real problem here is still you, mom."

"You haven't called me that in ages!" Hakyeon jumped up and smothered Sanghyuk gleefully in a hug. "My sweet baby Hyukkie."

"Yuck, and that's why," Sanghyuk said, throwing Hakyeon off. Or at least he tried. Hakyeon was much harder to dislodge than Taekwoon. He held Sanghyuk hostage for a good ten seconds before he relented and let him go.

"A promise," Hakyeon said. He sighed and leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been doing that a lot, but the blankness gave him comfort. Easier to let his mind go blank too.

"You never said what that was," Sanghyuk pointed out.

"I guess I didn't," Hakyeon said. "It has a nice ring to it though, doesn't it?"

"Sure, if you say so," Sanghyuk said. "But if that was all, the three of you wouldn't be so fixated on it. But maybe some things don't need to be said. For it to be understood, I mean. You all just… took it to mean your own things."

He hadn't wanted to hold them back.

He'd wanted them to fly as high and as far as they wanted.

And maybe he'd been too afraid to fly anywhere himself.

"You say some wise things," Hakyeon said.

He hadn't wanted them to come back, only to find no one there.

He'd wanted them to stay.

"Someone has to," Sanghyuk said, and somehow all the conversations Hakyeon had with the kids these days seemed to end in the same way.

With Hakyeon feeling foolish and childish and let down all at once. Let down by himself.

"Maybe it's hypocritical, but I don't care," Hakyeon said, and he was sounding the words out to himself, yet letting Sanghyuk hear. "I made a promise to them, and I'm going to keep it."

"You think they'd be okay with it?" Sanghyuk asked.

Hakyeon turned to him and smiled, blinking to clear his vision. "Aren't I allowed to be selfish sometimes too?" he asked. "And I believe in them. I believe in both of them. After all, it's a promise—and they've both kept theirs."

Sunlight glinted off the silver, and hypocrisy be damned, because Hakyeon was going to believe in himself too.

Jaehwan was always drained after a professional recording session, but also wired and electric and accomplished and regretful all at once. This was the second last one, and the mix of fear and exhilaration as the end approached was as strong as it'd been when he was still new and just debuted. He didn't think it'd ever go away. He didn't want it to ever go away.

But that meant when he'd surfaced into the fresh night air well past midnight, he wasn't quite ready to head home and sleep. Which found him in Wonsik's recording studio, spinning idly in the producer's chair.

"What happened to your diet?" Wonsik teased, handing Jaehwan the bottle of cola.

"Photoshoot finished three days ago," Jaehwan said. He twisted the cap open with a satisfying pop. Sweet, sweet sugar.

"Thought you'd be going home to Hakyeon now," Wonsik said, quickly holding up his hands to ward off Jaehwan's glower. "I'm honoured! Just surprised."

"He gets grumpy when I wake him up," Jaehwan grumbled. "Says I'm 'loud.'"

"Uh, he has a point. Have you tried… not waking him up?" Wonsik asked.

"I'm not trying to. He just wakes up easily," Jaehwan whined, drumming his heels against the ground like a toddler. Wonsik winced, because Jaehwan was loud by nature, and the outside of the recording studio was much less sound-proofed than inside.

"I haven't seen him in days," Jaehwan admitted with a dejected sigh and another spin of the chair. "He's always at the editor's office and I'm…"

"Rehearsing," Wonsik filled in for him.

Jaehwan nodded and put his feet back on the ground. "I don't wanna make his neighbours mad at me too," Jaehwan said. And it'd bother Hakyeon too if he was working, so better for Jaehwan to stick to his own apartment and own studio.

"Yeah, makes sense," Wonsik said. He grabbed his own bottle of water from the desk and threw himself into another chair, letting it roll back a meter or so before it stopped.

"I'll go home soon," Jaehwan promised. "It just didn't feel right."

"Lonely, right?" Wonsik suggested and Jaehwan fervently nodded.

"Too quiet," Jaehwan said, even if it'd never bothered him before.

"At least you're not mad at him anymore," Wonsik said.

"Why'd I be—Oh. That. I wasn't that mad," Jaehwan said, trying to play it cool. Wonsik laughed disbelievingly, having been forced to listen to Hongbin complain about Hakyeon whining about Jaehwan kicking the wall and leaving a dent! Which Jaehwan had in turn heard about from Sanghyuk, because Sanghyuk sometimes seemed to be an all-knowing god. Or he'd happened to run into Wonsik during an early morning (Sanghyuk) slash late night (Wonsik) coffee run.

"It's not like Hakyeon did anything," Jaehwan said, staring at the rim of the plastic bottle. "I kinda figured Taekwoon would do that, I just wanted to be there in case…"

Jaehwan trailed off, shaking his head like he could wipe the thought away if he shook his head hard enough. In case it'd be like last time.

"It's different this time," Wonsik said softly, eyes warm and sympathetic.

"Mmhmm," Jaehwan agreed. It really was different this time.

He'd lingered in Taekwoon's room, tucked into a corner in case Hakyeon saw him and tried to drag him out again like Jaehwan was a recalcitrant child. Taekwoon had seen him though, but Jaehwan didn't know how asleep Taekwoon had been by then.

How asleep Taekwoon had been when he'd looked straight at Jaehwan and said: Jaehwan-ah, don't worry, I'll protect you.

"Wonsik," Jaehwan said, getting his friend's attention. "Do you think I'm a coward?"

"What's brought this on?" Wonsik frowned.

"Do you?" Jaehwan pushed.

"Of course I don't! Why would you say that?"

"I think I am," Jaehwan said. He tucked his legs up, shoes kicked off and feet folded under him.

"Is this…y'know," Wonsik made a vague gesture with his hand, "related?"

Jaehwan pursed his lips as he thought. "I guess," he said.

"If Taekwoon called you a—"

"The fuck!?"

"Sorry," Wonsik mumbled, holding his hands up. "Didn't mean it."

Jaehwan took a deep breath and pulled his feet back onto the chair. "I know," he said.

Wonsik settled back into his chair, brows furrowed as he stared down at his water bottle. "You're probably thinking too much about it, whatever it is," he said, as silence settled in again.

"No one's ever told me I think too much," Jaehwan said with a laugh. "Just that I don't think."

"That too," Wonsik said.

"Is it too much or too little," Jaehwan whined, but he dropped the act quickly. "All I did was… 'stalk' him, and Hakyeon did everything else."

"Uh, you also punched him?" Wonsik said.

"He deserved it," Jaehwan said, scowling. "Hongbin said so too."

"Violence is bad," Wonsik intoned.

Jaehwan stuck his tongue out at Wonsik. "One Hakyeon's enough. It wasn't even stalking, Hakyeon just keeps calling it that."

"Alright, but what does this have to do with you being a coward?"

"Why didn't I?" Jaehwan asked. "Why'd I just let Hakyeon do all the work when I'm the one who said I'd get him back? Shouldn't I have tried harder?"

"I don't know how to answer that, Jaehwan," Wonsik said.

"Neither do I," Jaehwan said. He slumped over in his seat, chewing at his lip. His drink was half empty. He took a deep gulp before screwing the cap back on.

Why didn't you call? Taekwoon had said, while Jaehwan peeled off Taekwoon's wet clothes. Taekwoon's forehead rested against Jaehwan's shoulder, his hair cold and damp, the heat from the waiting bath warming the room. Jaehwan-ah, why did you never call?

"All I did was yell at him," Jaehwan said, wincing at the memory. "I just yelled at him and made him cry."

"Taekwoon cries easily?" Wonsik tried in an attempt to make Jaehwan feel less bad. It was a little transparent, and Jaehwan smiled wryly.

"Hakyeon makes things better, and I make things worse," Jaehwan said.

"Have you considered that not everything is your fault?" Wonsik asked. "Maybe you weren't making things worse, that's what I mean."

"I didn't say it's my fault, just that I didn't do anything when I could've," Jaehwan said.

"You need to stop blaming yourself, Jaehwan," Wonsik said, staring at Jaehwan seriously. "Really. About all of it. It's one thing to beat yourself up over missing a lyric on stage, which also you shouldn't do. And then this. No one's blaming you, so why'd you keep blaming yourself?"

"I'm not blaming myself! I'm just saying that I should've done something more. Or different. Or… Oh."

Wonsik nodded, as Jaehwan finally heard both Wonsik's words and his own.

Was he blaming himself?

"But he asked me why I didn't call," Jaehwan mumbled.

"You lost me," Wonsik said.

"Taekwoon. He asked why I didn't call him. What if that's why he did that? Why he came all the way here. What if it's 'cause he was trying to find me? What if—"

"It's. Not. Because. Of. You." Wonsik rolled his chair very close to Jaehwan, and gripped the armrests of Jaehwan's chair so he couldn't roll away. "Stop doing that."

"I could've, though," Jaehwan said in a small voice, staring down at his knees, his hands clasped around his knees. "I was just… scared."

"Being afraid isn't the same as being a coward," Wonsik said. He let Jaehwan go, and gave him some space. Jaehwan appreciated it.

"I still haven't. Since he left again. I said I'd never let him go but I did, and I didn't even try to stop him," Jaehwan said.

"If it bothers you so much, just call him tomorrow and tell him you love him," Wonsik said like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"But I—"

"It's not true?"

"It is, I'm just… scared. I dunno what he'd say. I dunno what I'd say. And he might just say I'm 'putting my guilt on him' again and I dunno what'd I say to that."

"Look, Jaehwan. He's an adult. We're all adults. Whatever decisions he made are his, and whatever decisions you made are yours. You're not that powerful, you didn't make him do anything. And he's right—if you feel so bad about whatever it is you think you did and he doesn't want any part of it, what's the point of feeling bad about it at all?" Wonsik said, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, facing Jaehwan like a very serious adult.

Wonsik was being a very serious adult, and Jaehwan was being a very whiny child.

Hadn't Taekwoon said the same thing? Words broken with tears surfaced in Jaehwan's memory, it wasn't your fault, you felt sorry, I didn't know what to do.

Was that true? Had none of it been because of Jaehwan?

The truth was that through those long, intervening years, that once firm belief had both begun to crack and wither, while the pieces of broken dust gathered and settled deep in Jaehwan's consciousness. The distorted mirror was slowly revealing the clear pane of glass behind it, but Jaehwan dug his fingers into the ground, even as he watched the cracks grow, the view clear.

It was easier to name it cowardice.

"I'm still scared," Jaehwan said softly to the darkened recording booth. "Scared he's never gonna come back again."

"But this time you know where he is," Wonsik said. "And, just a hunch, I don't think you've got much to be afraid of."

"Why?"

"He took a two hour train just to find you and ask why you didn't call him," Wonsik said. "Either he really hates you or really loves you, and I'd put all my bets on the second."

Jaehwan flushed, and pressed the soda bottle against his cheeks in an attempt to cool them. "I guess," Jaehwan said reluctantly. He was scared of that too—that Taekwoon might still feel like that about him.

The way Jaehwan had felt, clinging to Taekwoon on the bed, and then latching onto Hakyeon the moment he was nearby, yet refusing to let Taekwoon go.

He wouldn't let either of them go.

"He didn't drive five hours just to give us a sweater, though," Jaehwan said, poking the arm of the chair. "I would've, for both of them."

"What?" Wonsik asked, utterly baffled.

"Y'know, like Corpse. He drove five hours just to give Sykkuno merch," Jaehwan said, and Wonsik shook his head like it explained nothing. Jaehwan was just learning to drive, and if that was what it'd take, he'd have done it in a heartbeat. He would've driven that far just to see the most important smiles of his life.

It'd been familiar and unfamiliar all at once, the way his heart felt like it'd explode from his chest, the moment he'd seen the two of them at the end of the hall and he hadn't even changed from his slippers before he was sprinting down to the elevators to help. He needed them both. He didn't ever want to let them go. He'd never let them go.

It scared him a little that Taekwoon could be the same, but was still so far away. That he'd decided to go so far away.

Jaehwan hooked a finger under his bracelet. Once the album was finished, Jaehwan decided, he'd go find Taekwoon again if Taekwoon hadn't come back. Maybe it'd take some time for Jaehwan to believe he wasn't the source of all evils, but he'd hunt Taekwoon down and ask him about that one. And then Hakyeon would flick him for being foolish and Taekwoon would pinch Jaehwan's neck and shake him. Jaehwan looked forward to it.

The creak of the swings jangled out of rhythm, the wind pushing one and Taekwoon sat on the other, rocking slowly back and forth as he stared out over the river. There was still an hour or so until sunset but the wind had come early, ushering the afternoon heat on its way. It was growing pleasant, unlike the relentless daytime sun that'd left Taekwoon increasingly grateful for air conditioning.

He'd been home for over a week. He appreciated and expected the radio silence Hakyeon had promised him, but it also left him with a lonely ache that neither Sir Hopples nor his family could ease.

Taekwoon knew he probably looked strange, a grown man on a children's swing set, but the park was empty and the evening was quiet. Just the sound of the wind and the creak of the swings, with the cacophony of the city and its people distant and muted. With the weakness and exhaustion fading, the restlessness had returned and the safe haven of his apartment felt again stifling. Hakyeon must've thought he'd been doing Taekwoon a favour by calling in sick for him, but it just meant Taekwoon didn't even have work to take him outside. Taekwoon had tried going, but Teacher Park had taken one look at Taekwoon and sent him home for a week.

It made Taekwoon feel like a grade school student who'd done something wrong.

He sighed, kicking off the ground and lifting his feet so they wouldn't drag. He used to challenge Hakyeon to contests of who could swing higher, usually when the basketball court was occupied by big kids. By the time they'd met Jaehwan in high school they were too old—and also too tall—to use the swings. It'd been the closest thing to flying—the downwards swoop as the swing fell from under him faster than Taekwoon let himself fall, or when he'd launch himself forward at the top of the arc and land what felt like seconds after.

But jumping was always the next closest thing—and as they'd grown older and taller, jumping was the closest he'd ever get to flying.

He'd never fly like that again.

Taekwoon sighed again, a long, heavy exhale as the swing settled under Taekwoon's weight.

He'd thought about it. He'd been thinking about it. It was impossible not to think about it.

And after days and days of thinking about it, the only conclusion Taekwoon could come to was: he was afraid.

For the first time in his life he was facing the void of an uncertain future. Yet he lived in an equally unsettling present. The glass walls of his terrarium were beginning to crack, and whatever awaited him outside chilled him to the bone.

But somewhere deep in that void, holding their hands out for him, were the people he once felt he'd never live without. That he couldn't live without.

The high sound of children's banter pulled him back to the present. Taekwoon tensed, torn between feigning nonchalance and bolting, his body coiled yet frozen.

He was facing the river, his back partially to the road. He could see the two boys in his peripheral vision with schoolbags slung over their shoulders and quickly turned away. They'd be gone soon.

"Coach!"

Taekwoon recognised that loud, boisterous voice, and it wasn't one of the kids on the school team. He couldn't help but smile and shake his head. There wasn't even time to stand up before Dongil had shot across the open ground and came to a running stop next to Taekwoon.

"Tell my mom I'll be late!" Dongil yelled back at his friend.

His friend gave him a thumbs up and waved.

"Thanks Jaeho!"

Taekwoon watched the exchange with quiet amusement, and couldn't even be annoyed his solitary sanctuary had been intruded upon.

"Your mom will worry," Taekwoon said to Dongil. Dongil dropped onto the swing next to Taekwoon and shook his head.

"I live just over there," Dongil said, jerking his thumb at the apartment building a few steps away. "We play here all the time and my mom loves Jaeho so she won't get mad."

"Is Jaeho your brother?" Taekwoon asked. He didn't remember Dongil mentioning any siblings except his older sister.

Dongil shook his head again, throwing his bulging bag to the side so he could kick the swing off the ground.

"He's my best friend! He lives next door so we go to each other's houses all the time. Mom always says I should be better behaved and more respectful like Jaeho, but Jaeho's only like that in front of our parents. What're you doing over here, Coach? I thought you were sick."

Taekwoon carefully considered how to explain to Dongil that his… that Hakyeon had been the one to call, and that Teacher Park had been the one to extend his rest.

"As long as you're better and back soon, I guess that's okay," Dongil said, saving Taekwoon the headache of having to answer.

Without his baseball cap, Dongil's bangs were long and floppy, and he pushed them out of his face with an irritated sound.

"I will be," Taekwoon promised.

"Good, because you're way more fun," Dongil said. Taekwoon couldn't hide his smile, and just looked off into the distance instead.

"I was kinda worried at first when you didn't show up, because it'd really suck if you'd quit. Class just wouldn't be the same." Dongil leaned back in the swing and started pushing back and forth in a low arc.

"Would you quit if I quit?" Taekwoon teased, just to see Dongil's reaction.

He stared at Taekwoon, absolutely shocked and horrified, and Taekwoon quickly shook his head.

"I'll tell you first if I do," Taekwoon said, and Dongil seemed torn between being upset and worried. Eventually, he seemed to decide it wasn't something he needed to worry about.

"No," Dongil said. "It's fun, and I still wanna be a starter in middle school. I made Jaeho start playing too, and we're gonna go to the same school and be on the team together. So I can't quit."

"That's good," Taekwoon said. It reassured him.

"You'll still be Coach, right?" Dongil asked.

Taekwoon hesitated, because as much as he wanted to, he'd learned that promises were too easily broken. "I'll try," Taekwoon said, and that seemed to satisfy the boy.

"Coach, you and Hakyeon used to be teammates too, right?" Dongil asked.

It took Taekwoon a long moment before he responded with a slow nod. Hakyeon.

"In middle school too?" Dongil asked.

"Did Hakyeon tell you that?" Taekwoon asked. He only knew that Hakyeon had mentioned their university days.

"Mmhmm. And that you weren't super tall like you are now," Dongil said.

Taekwoon's eyebrows arched up. "I'm not that tall," Taekwoon said. "Compared to many players."

"But you're not short. Everyone says I'm small," Dongil said.

"You'll grow," Taekwoon reassured him. Dongil wrinkled his face, because he'd probably heard that over and over and over again.

"I have a friend, he was also on the basketball team," Taekwoon said. "He wasn't very big when he first joined the team. We met a few days ago and he's… very big."

"Really? Taller than you?" Dongil asked, eyes shining.

Taekwoon nodded, thinking about how dwarfed he'd felt. "Tall and strong," he said. He wasn't sure how to describe Sanghyuk's apparent growth spurt, other than 'big'. Very big.

"I didn't know you had friends," Dongil said, and immediately shook his head in horror, trying desperately to correct what was clearly the wrong thing to say. "I know Hakyeon, but you never talked about friends, and even Teacher Park and my mom have friends."

Realising he wasn't making things any better, Dongil drooped. Taekwoon was abruptly reminded of Jaehwan and he breathed out a small laugh.

"They live very far away," Taekwoon said. It made it sound like they lived in another city or prefecture altogether, but he was alright with that conception.

"Hey Coach, I know you keep getting mad when I ask you, but why don't you ever play with us?" Dongil asked.

Taekwoon's heart plummeted, just like it did every time one of the kids brought it up. "I'm only here to teach," he said, like he always did.

"Yeah, but all the other teachers will play keepaway if we ask, and you've never even shot a goal," Dongil said. "You just tell us how to."

"That's my job," Taekwoon said.

"Still," Dongil protested. "I know you gotta be good, but I wanna see you be good."

It was so earnest a request that Taekwoon burst out laughing, and it took a fair second or so before he got himself under control.

"I would disappoint you," Taekwoon said.

"Why'd you stop playing?" Dongil asked, and the boy truly had no tact, just like Jaehwan. Even if his questions hurt, Taekwoon could only find his curiosity endearing.

This question, though, felt too heavy to answer. All he could do was shrug it off.

"I know grades are important, and basketball isn't a real job," Dongil said. The chains creaked as he swung back and forth, staring contemplatively into the distance. "But I dunno, the more I think about it, the more I wanna at least try."

"Basketball should be fun," Taekwoon said.

"But you never look like you're having fun," Dongil said.

Taekwoon could definitely see why Dongil's mother would want him to be more like his quieter friend. This was the first time he'd had any sort of extended conversation with the boy, and it'd forever surprise him how easily the kid could strike up conversation with anyone, anywhere.

It's my job, Taekwoon was on the verge of saying again.

"I was injured," Taekwoon said instead, and his admission shocked him. He couldn't remember telling anyone before. Not like this.

"I hurt my leg very badly and for a long time I couldn't walk," Taekwoon found himself saying, words spilling out. "After that… it was hard to play."

"You can walk now," Dongil said, pointing out the incredibly obvious fact. "You can even run, and basketball's fun, right?"

Taekwoon blinked. Breathed in. Breathed out.

It was supposed to be fun.

He remembered it had once been fun, even if he couldn't remember that feeling anymore. He remembered it'd once been more important than life itself, but he couldn't remember what it'd been like to live for it.

"It's 'cause all you do is 'teach'," Dongil said. "I bet teaching's not that fun if you don't play, like how games are more fun than drills. You keep saying you want it to be fun for us, shouldn't you make it fun for you too? Why are adults always so serious? Mom and dad always say things like 'you can't do that until you're older' or 'you'll understand when you grow up', but being so serious like that… I dunno if I want it."

"... You talk a lot," Taekwoon said.

Dongil grimaced, letting the swing slow to a stop. "Sorry Coach. Mom says I need to work on it all the time."

"I don't mind," Taekwoon said, thinking of Jaehwan. And not just Jaehwan. "Hakyeon talks a lot as well."

"Really?" Dongil asked, instantly brightening. "Hakyeon's fun. D'you know when he's gonna come again? He promised, but he still hasn't come."

"Hakyeon's busy," Taekwoon explained.

"I still think you could teach me too," Dongil said, like he always did when Taekwoon said that Hakyeon was busy. But he didn't follow it up this time with some variation of was Taekwoon even any good, or did Taekwoon not know how to, instead chewing at his lip and glancing at Taekwoon sideways.

Taekwoon tilted his head, waiting for Dongil to continue.

"Coach, you and Hakyeon aren't fighting, are you?"

"What?" Taekwoon spluttered, not sure if he should laugh or not.

"It's 'cause every time I ask you look kinda… unhappy. Sorry, I guess I should stop," Dongil said slowly.

"Hakyeon… It's complicated, but we're not fighting," Taekwoon said. He looked at Dongil, this tiny grade-school bundle of energy that was sure of everything he said, because he didn't think about what he said. That first time he'd seen Jaehwan, months and months ago, and in a different park and under a sunny sky, you don't even love basketball anymore.

A harsh accusation, even for Jaehwan. If only so many of his harsh accusations didn't turn out to be true.

Taekwoon looked down at his hand, resting in his lap. At his hands. The lights had turned on, even though there was still sun in the sky. It was the streetlights that flickered off the bracelet, the shadows on his wrist distorted.

"Friendship bracelets are cool," Dongil suddenly said. He held out his own hand, small and bare. "It's like an anime. But you gotta be really sure you'll always be friends. Hey Coach, what'd happen if you saw someone else with that bracelet? Instead of just the two of you?"

The speed with which the conversation zig-zagged in topic was giving Taekwoon whiplash. It seemed universal with kids, but Dongil was cranking it up to Jaehwan levels of bewilderment.

"The three of us," Taekwoon corrected Dongil.

This caught the boy off guard, like the thought of Taekwoon having more than one friend was too much to comprehend for his young mind. It probably was.

"His name is Jaehwan," Taekwoon supplied, perhaps a little too amused at Dongil's stunned face. "He also talks a lot."

"Does he also play basketball?" Dongil asked.

"We were all on the same team," Taekwoon said.

"Is he also good?" Dongil asked.

"Jaehwan's not bad," Taekwoon said. Paused. "He's a singer now."

"Really? That's pretty cool too. Is he famous?"

"Uhh… Maybe?" Taekwoon honestly wasn't sure. "He's very good."

"Is he a better singer or basketball player?"

Taekwoon's eyebrows squeezed together and then up, as he tried to work through if the two could be compared at all. The biggest difference, Taekwoon supposed, was that Jaehwan only did one of the two professionally, while the other had fallen by the wayside with the end of university. The reality of life was as much a roadblock as any injury.

Unlike Taekwoon, Jaehwan had never regretted it. He'd just moved on, found a new dream, and kept living. They'd been busy living while Taekwoon had been busy hiding. And now the glass terrarium had been strained to its breaking point.

And Taekwoon no longer loved basketball.

Basketball just… was.

When Taekwoon looked at Dongil he saw the love that he knew he'd once had. Even if he couldn't remember how it felt, he could see it in this kid who'd been lackluster at best, the first time he'd picked up a ball, to someone who'd reluctantly found it 'fun', and now to a boy who'd decided, at least for now, that this was his dream. It might change—in a year or in ten or somewhere in between—but at this moment, this was what he loved.

At this moment, this was a child who'd learned how to fly.

"I guess they're different things," Dongil said, answering his own question. "Being a singer isn't a real job either."

Taekwoon snorted, bowing his head to hide his laugh. Dongil looked at him strangely.

"I'll let Jaehwan know," Taekwoon said solemnly, watching Dongil's expression morph into alarm and then concern and then annoyance when he realised Taekwoon was just teasing him.

Dongil huffed, but then he grew strangely silent, and for a moment it was just the creak of the swings as Dongil kicked it back and forth. The sky was beginning to dim, and Taekwoon wondered if he should walk the boy home, even if it was only a few steps. He'd feel terrible if something happened. Even though this was a safe, quiet area. When Dongil looked at Taekwoon, he bit at his lip, clearly holding his words back.

"Dongil?" Taekwoon prompted.

"Don't get mad at me?" Dongil asked.

"Why would I be mad? I won't." Taekwoon promised, frowning.

"What'd you mean when you said you and Hakyeon were complicated? Is it complicated with Jaehwan too? Does it have to do with your bracelets? Are all adults' friendships complicated?" Dongil asked each question tentatively.

Taekwoon tilted his head up, staring at the darkening sky. It was a deep blue overhead, even though light remained in front of them.

Complicated.

What an odd word, one he'd chosen so he could avoid explaining what he himself didn't understand. He looked down at his wrist, turning the band again and again, the words appearing and disappearing with each turn.

"A promise," Taekwoon said quietly. And then he took a breath, words fitting around each other like puzzle pieces of an invisible image. "Hakyeon said that when he gave us them. We didn't understand and he didn't explain. Jaehwan… I think Jaehwan kept that promise even if he doesn't know it. Did Hakyeon say they were friendship bracelets?"

"No," Dongil said, shaking his head after a moment of contemplation. "I did, and then he said boys can also be friends."

Taekwoon smiled to himself, because that did seem like something Hakyeon would say.

"We started out friends," Taekwoon said. "But when he gave us them, we were…"

He trailed off, hesitant. He glanced at Dongil, worried and scared of what Dongil would say, or who Dongil would tell.

"You were what?" Dongil asked. "If you weren't friends."

"Something more," Taekwoon settled with, but when Dongil frowned, clearly unsatisfied with that answer, Taekwoon added: "we were each other's most important people."

"Most important people," Dongil repeated under his breath, sounding out the words, trying to tease out the meaning. There was still something else bothering him, and he looked at Taekwoon, eyebrows scrunched. "But what does that have to do with it being complicated?"

"Because, for a long time, I think we forgot," Taekwoon said, and then, a guilty admission: "I forgot."

"Oh," Dongil said. "That's a big promise to forget."

But that had never been the promise.

"How'd you forget?" Dongil followed it up with. "If there's someone like that, you'd see them all the time. That makes it hard to forget."

Another guilty admission:

"I quit basketball the moment I chose to walk away," Taekwoon said, and it was an echo of someone else, someone younger. He shook himself out of that memory, Hakyeon's kitchen just a few days ago. The sun was still setting. "I left after the accident and moved here. It was… It was a choice."

"You chose to forget?"

"Well, no," Taekwoon fumbled. "I chose to leave."

"And… because you left you forgot? And that's why you stopped playing basketball? Or you forgot and then you left—I don't get it Coach, was the accident that bad that you had to leave?" Dongil tried to reason, and the more Dongil reasoned aloud, the more ridiculous Taekwoon's choices sounded.

Taekwoon sighed, looking down at his feet.

"You didn't really quit basketball though. You kinda still play basketball, even if you just 'teach'," Dongil said, and he brightened, as if suddenly understanding something. "You just don't play in front of us, 'cause otherwise you'd forget how to play if you really quit. And it's not really quitting if you're still here."

"..."

"Right, Coach?"

Taekwoon didn't know he'd been so easily seen through. Sometimes, after class, he wanted to say, when everyone's gone home.

"Wait, but you remember now—that you were… that you were each other's most important people?" Dongil looked at Taekwoon, slightly bewildered.

Taekwoon nodded slowly, just once.

"Then tell them that," Dongil said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That doesn't sound complicated at all."

The thing was, Dongil truly believed that, and it was that earnestness that made Taekwoon laugh.

"It doesn't," Taekwoon found himself agreeing.

"That's why Hakyeon isn't coming, isn't it? 'Cause you made it 'complicated'."

"No," Taekwoon answered easily. "Hakyeon is very busy right now. His book is going to be published soon, so he's working hard."

"Book? He's a writer? How come all your friends, uh, all your important people have cool jobs?" Dongil asked, eyes wide.

"But not me?" Taekwoon teased.

"You're the coolest," Dongil quickly recovered. "Sometimes you're kinda lame but you're way cooler than Teacher Park, and you're more like a big bro than a teach—"

Dongil cut himself off, horrified, hands covering his mouth.

"I'm… what?" Taekwoon blinked, having no idea how to respond.

"Uhhh, you're the best! After I'm done being a basketball player, I wanna do what you do, and make other people love basketball too."

And this was another thing that Dongil believed. That he would always do what he loved. That he would always live for what he loved.

Taekwoon's eyes closed for a moment, and the sky was growing pink and orange.

"Dongil, right now you love basketball, and you want to play it forever," Taekwoon said, and Dongil nodded, grinning. Taekwoon remembered that. Somewhere, deep inside, he remembered that. "I want you to remember something, alright? Life isn't only about basketball."

Taekwoon held up a hand, shaking his head when Dongil tried to protest.

"Things you liked before basketball, things your friends like other than basketball, even things that aren't 'real jobs', those are important too. Hakyeon had a 'real job' after he graduated, but he wasn't a very good accountant, and became a writer instead. The friend I told you about who grew—he became a doctor. Even before he joined the team, he knew he'd be a doctor, and now he's a very good doctor. Another teammate, he took classes to be a programmer but now he… people watch him play games and he gets paid?"

Dongil had grown solemn as Taekwoon spoke, but as Taekwoon stumbled over whatever strangeness Hongbin now did for money he got inexplicably excited.

"Oh! He's a streamer? What's his channel?" Dongil asked.

Taekwoon had no clue what any of those words meant, or why Dongil was so interested.

"I'll uh… ask?" Taekwoon said.

"You have a lot of cool friends, Coach," Dongil said. "But all of that stuff, I don't get what you mean."

If someone had told Taekwoon all these things when he was Dongil's age, when he had the conviction that he'd do what he loved for the rest of his life, Taekwoon wouldn't understand either. Yet he still kept talking.

"Life isn't only about basketball," Taekwoon said again. He sighed softly. "I'm happy you love basketball, and I hope you'll always love basketball. I still want you to remember this. Don't get tied down by one thing. Don't forget there's an entire world."

Don't be like me.

"I guess it's something 'I'll understand when I'm older,'" Dongil said dryly. He suddenly seemed to notice how dark it'd gotten, because he whipped out his phone in alarm.

"Your mom?" Taekwoon asked.

Dongil nodded, jumping off the swing. "Sorry Coach, I hafta go! I'll see you at class!"

Taekwoon stood more slowly, laughing and shaking his head at Dongil's energy. Dongil grabbed his bag and dashed off. Taekwoon didn't even have a chance to walk him home.

"Be careful!" Taekwoon called out, and got a quick wave in return, before Dongil disappeared around a bend and into the lobby of a building.

That kid would go far, no matter what he ended up doing.

And maybe Dongil was right. Maybe it wasn't complicated.

And maybe those words Taekwoon had said should've been said to himself—because Taekwoon was older, and maybe Taekwoon finally understood.

Taekwoon pulled out his own phone. He'd 'borrowed' it from his mom, who was delighted her baby boy had finally come to his senses, and all the important numbers were already in the contacts, and she'd buy him the newest model he just had to decide which one they could even go this weekend. He tapped at the contacts, smiling at the list: Mommy, Daddy, Best Sister, Annoying Sister, Baby Sister—his oldest sister had grabbed his phone and immediately changed the names, and Taekwoon was too amused to stop her.

But his mom was wrong. Taekwoon pulled out the folded sheet of paper, shadows forming in the creases as the sun began to disappear and the moon slipped out from the clouds, leaving only the streetlights shining on the five neatly written numbers.

He added each and every one of them, his contacts doubling in length.

And then, to a text group named 'most important people' he sent three words:

I'm coming home.

They were waiting for him. Two silhouettes in the open doorway, and the moment Taekwoon was in arms reach they pulled him through before he had a chance to escape. He didn't want to escape. The span of a second stretched into eternity as the three of them questioned the reality of this moment, this dreamlike instance, the culmination of so many years of disappointments and yearning and dashed hopes and wishes and they were frozen in that second, in fear that the slightest movement would shatter this image to reveal it for the fantasy it was—

Taekwoon took a hesitant step forward and when the illusion didn't shatter, Hakyeon and Jaehwan threw themselves at him until they were holding each other as close as three people could ever be.

"Welcome home," Hakyeon whispered into Taekwoon's ear.

"You're back," Jaehwan said and his voice cracked as he clung to Taekwoon with one arm and Hakyeon with the other.

Taekwoon tried to say so many things at once that nothing came out. I'm sorry and thank you and I made you wait and his knees buckled under the weight, taking the other two down with him.

"It's alright, you're alright," Hakyeon soothed him, slowly stroking his fingers through Taekwoon's hair because Taekwoon was crying into Jaehwan's shoulder. "You're alright. Jaehwan, are you crying?"

"I'm not!" Jaehwan said, but Taekwoon could feel Jaehwan's tears through his shirt. Somehow, Taekwoon laughed.

It felt good to laugh, even if it made his chest shake and his body weak. They were all so solid around him and these few minutes, seconds, were the safest Taekwoon had felt in years. Safe and protected and right. It scared him. He didn't deserve to—

There were words he had to say.

There were words he needed to say. He breathed in and breathed out, his throat thick with tears. He breathed in and breathed out, and his body felt too heavy. He breathed in fear and he breathed out fear, and his breaths were shaky when he needed them to be steady. He breathed in and breathed out and the syllables stuck in his mouth, formless without meaning. He breathed in and breathed out, and they melded in rhythm with the breaths of two others' and they slowed together, they steadied together. The hands around him were warm. Taekwoon clung to warmth.

Taekwoon closed his eyes, even though they'd long been unseeing. Hidden.

He took a deep breath and it trembled inside of him. He felt it faltering and his entire body ached to stay like this forever, to hide away in the embraces of the people he could never live without, to let the words die and fade away while the seeds sowed regret and apprehension—very slowly, Taekwoon sat up. Sat away.

His eyes burned.

And then he bowed.

"Taekwoon?" Hakyeon, hesitant.

"What're you doing?" Jaehwan, confused.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused because I was foolish," Taekwoon said, and the words felt stilted, were stilted, but he hadn't found any good way to say them. He needed to. He needed to apologise. "I ran away because I was afraid. And I couldn't face you, and… And I shouldn't have done that. I was wrong."

"Yeah, you fucked up," Jaehwan said so casually that Hakyeon smacked Jaehwan at the same time Jaehwan prodded Taekwoon's shoulder and Taekwoon straightened so fast he clipped Jaehwan's chin with the top of his head.

"Mnf!"

Jaehwan went tumbling backwards in surprise. Taekwoon yelped and covered the top of his head.

Hakyeon sighed, stood up, and looked down at the two of them with a sad shake of his head.

"C'mon," Hakyeon said. He extended both his hands and pulled Jaehwan and Taekwoon to their feet.

Out of instinct, Jaehwan and Taekwoon reached for each other, lacing their fingers together just as Hakyeon had theirs. Tentatively, Taekwoon looked up from the floor and smiled. And they both smiled back, Jaehwan's grin as wide as it could be, Hakyeon's as warm and gentle as the sun.

"You did fuck up," Hakyeon said very solemnly, looking Taekwoon straight in the eye. Hakyeon's eyes were beautiful. They were a little damp but Taekwoon had tears pouring down his face and probably looked a mess. Hakyeon's eyes were beautiful.

"Woah, you made Hakyeon swear," Jaehwan said, and Jaehwan's eyes were red but laughing, blooming little stars of warmth in Taekwoon's chest. Hakyeon must've squeezed Jaehwan's hand hard because Jaehwan yelped and jumped in place, and his grip on Taekwoon's hand tightened enough to make Taekwoon wince.

Hakyeon scolded Jaehwan with a single look, but there was only warmth when he turned back to Taekwoon.

"I understand—we understand you were just trying to do what you thought was best for all of us," Hakyeon said, and with a lurch in his chest Taekwoon wondered if that was true. If it was as simple and misguided as that.

"I don't really get it," Jaehwan said with a one-shouldered shrug. He was watching Hakyeon warily out of the corner of his eye but he needn't have worried with how focussed Hakyeon was on Taekwoon. "I don't get how it was supposed to be best, but… I guess I forgive you? And I'm really sorry about punching you."

Taekwoon laughed, tucking his chin down to hide his face. Jaehwan was so silly. Taekwoon would've forgotten by now if Jaehwan hadn't kept bringing it up. It'd be something he could tease Jaehwan with for a long time.

A long time.

He raised his head again and this time, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around both of them, hugging both Hakyeon and Jaehwan as close as he could.

"Thank you for finding me," he said, muffling the words into Hakyeon's shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me home."

Home.

So much had changed and so much would change, but in this moment they simply took solace in each other and found themselves falling asleep in Hakyeon's too small bed having talked and laughed and cried and bathed in the warmth and safety they'd yearned for and forgotten. Promises had been made, and in the end, those promises had been kept. There was a picture on the table, and none of them remembered when it'd been taken because it had been one of the most common moments. Safe, and whole, and together.

They'd all found their way home.

It's a good day for basketball.

It's a cool summer afternoon with light clouds and a breeze, filled with the rattle of the backboard as the ball rebounds.

"No fair!" Jaehwan shouts, but he's completely blocked out by Sanghyuk's longer reach.

Sanghyuk grins, all teeth, as he sends the basketball flying across the half-sized court, ignoring Wonsik yelling for the ball. Wonsik groans and covers his eyes, but he still peeks through his fingers to watch Sanghyuk's shot fly true to the other net. He holds his breath, but before the ball reaches the hoop, Hakyeon jumps for it and his fingers graze the ball. The ball falters just enough for Jaehwan to sprint for it.

Hongbin advances the film to the first frame.

"Taekwoon!" Jaehwan yells, but he doesn't need to—Taekwoon starts moving even before Jaehwan grabs the ball. He's ready, his body coiled tight as a spring, knowing exactly where he needs to be for Jaehwan's pass. It's a good feeling, the way the ball settles in Taekwoon's fingers. He smiles.

The ball arcs towards the sun and under those blinding rays, Taekwoon flies.

*click*