Archive of Our Own

i.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are in love.

It’s in the way they wake up intertwined in each other’s arms. 

Mingyu relishes in the warmth of Wonwoo’s back on his chest. It almost—almost—convinces him to stay in their bed, to continue cuddling Wonwoo until it’s well past noon.

Actually… fine. Maybe it works for a bit.

Maybe Mingyu closes his eyes once more and buries his forehead into the crook of his lover’s neck. Maybe he lands a kiss there. Maybe he beams as Wonwoo lets out a groggy chuckle, the one Mingyu has long acquainted himself with. Maybe he lets go of his lover’s waist to pull their comforter on top of them both. 

But the illusion is broken by Mingyu’s alarm—City of Stars because Wonwoo loves that song (so Mingyu does too)—gently playing its tune to nudge the lovers awake.

Immediately, Mingyu bolts up much to Wonwoo’s dismay. He lets out a drowsy whine but follows suit and sits up anyway, rubbing his eye.

Mingyu ruffles his ash hair as he looks back at his fiancé with an expression Minghao would say is sickening, “Come on, hyung!"

It’s in the way Mingyu can tell when Wonwoo is trying something new.

“Oh, hyung! Is that a new cologne?”

Slowly, calmly, Wonwoo turns his body to look at Mingyu. His brows are raised slightly as if impressed. There’s a slight smile on his face and a certain glint in his eye.

“Kind of. Yeah. It’s new. You noticed?”

Mingyu can’t help but break into a grin, “Of course, hyung!”

Wonwoo’s eyes crinkle, and there’s a soft chuckle that escapes him as he turns his back to his fiancé to face the mirror and continue buttoning up his shirt. And Mingyu guesses that Wonwoo deems the top button of his shirt as insignificant because he walks away from the mirror before it's done. He glances at Mingyu with a soft look for a bit then moves to land a kiss on his younger sweetheart’s cheek.

Do Mingyu’s cheeks redden? Yes. But it’s fine because Wonwoo finds it cute, he even says so and pats Mingyu’s back twice before he exits the bathroom.

Though Mingyu’s not alone for long. His brunet fiancé cracks the door open to toss him his socks. Mingyu always forgets them.

It’s in the way they enjoy each other’s company

“Your footsteps are so loud.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue, but there’s no bite in his words. In fact, his gaze is soft as he leans back on the kitchen counter, looking at Mingyu as he sips his morning coffee.

Still, Mingyu knows their language properly. So he responds in kind.

Between the two, Mingyu might be the (literal) bigger person, but that does nothing to stop him from blowing a cherry towards his pale partner. 

The older laughs, Mingyu likes to attribute it to Wonwoo loving him and his humor. The brunet gets a bowl of leftover japchae from the microwave while smiling. Very becoming of his age, Wonwoo sticks out his tongue as he hands the piece of ceramic to Mingyu.

“Thanks, hyung.”

Wonwoo gives a gentle smile back.

It’s in the way they’re going to the field right now. To practice their vows.

Their wedding vows, that is.

Even now, as Mingyu descends the steps of their home (the one they’ve had since they were 23) there is pride and joy and wonder in his chest. It’s warm, jumpy, and yes, it’s a contributing factor to the ache in the apples of his cheeks from smiling so much, but Mingyu doesn’t care.

Mingyu’s getting married.

Mingyu’s finally getting married.

And fine, Mingyu relents as he reaches the bottom of the staircase, it’s not today. But he’s getting married by next month. He’s been waiting for this since he and Wonwoo were nervous high schoolers, dancing around to escape their feelings. Since they were tired college students, broke and sleep-deprived, but still making time to see each other. Since they were but lovestruck youths, unable to not kiss each other on a familiar field, with the summer heat strong but their love for each other stronger still.

“Hyuuuuung!”

“I’m coming, Mingyu!”

Mingyu makes a show of stomping his feet, trying to hasten his significant other’s pace. He doesn’t think it works, but it's fine. Wonwoo is at the top of the stairs, button-up half-tucked into his jeans and sleeves crinkled so that they stop by his elbows.

Needless to say, Mingyu’s words die in his chest.

Wonwoo lets out a pfft and hands his fiancé a pair of sunglasses and a mask, his movement natural.

At that, Mingyu deflates if only by a bit, but he accepts the accessories gratefully. Indeed, Mingyu’s lucky to have a lover who always looks out for him and who’s infinitely more cautious than he is.

“Thanks,” Mingyu says, voice soft.

Wonwoo gives a thin smile as he reaches for the door.

Mingyu watches him from behind with soft eyes.

A silent sigh.

…He loves his job. Mingyu wouldn’t swap it for the world.

Sure, being a model means constantly bodybuilding and dieting, and even dehydrating when a runway show is around the corner. And yeah, Mingyu might have crazed followers and strict agents and work abroad and offers to act as some straight protagonist in dramas and—

Well.

He wears the sunglasses and the mask.

His job… is hard. Difficult. But he relishes wearing and showing off art. Traveling to other countries for shows and festivals. And being an occasional subject of Wonwoo’s camera is an added plus.

In fact, the beloved black device is hanging on the photographer’s neck as he stands in front of the opened door, head tilted towards the outside.

And the other’s gaze is all the younger needs. Mingyu lets out a breath, fixes his jacket, and follows his lover out the ajar door.

The two don’t need a ride. They head to the field on the outskirts of town. The very one they shared their first kiss in, and the one they’re going to get married on.

Mingyu and Wonwoo walk side by side to their destination. Mingyu’s hands are stuck in his pocket while Wonwoo’s are on his camera as he observes the streets of Seoul as they walk. The older nudges Mingyu, causing him to stop.

“Hm?” Mingyu follows Wonwoo’s line of sight towards…

The man’s lips curve into a smile.

“That’s where we had our first date.” Mingyu’s expression turns fond as he gazes at the theater. Then, he turns to Wonwoo. A grin, “And now we’re getting married.”

Wonwoo rips his gaze from the establishment to look at his fiancé. He repeats the words softly, “And now we’re going to getting married.”

The taller of the two doesn’t stop the giggle that escapes from his mouth. Wonwoo shakes his head at this as if he disapproves, but he’s fooling no one. From under his midnight face mask, Mingyu flashes his famous smile.

“What? Nervous for the wedding?”

His older lover shoots to him a sharp gaze, but there’s no malice. He sighs, then shakes his head, but when he looks away, it’s with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Stop thinking so much, hyung.” Mingyu playfully nudges Wonwoo’s forearm. 

“Oh come on.” Wonwoo tilts his head forward and purposefully strides at a faster pace than before. If Mingyu were able to show his face in public, he’d stick out his tongue. Alas, he just speedwalks until he overtakes Wonwoo.

That’ll show him and his short little legs.

When they finally arrive on the field, they’re out of breath. Wonwoo folds his legs and puts his palms on his knees as he catches his breath. Mingyu rips off his mask and collapses on the golden grass.

“You,” Mingyu gives his fiancé the stink eye as he gasps for air, “cheated.”

Wonwoo catches his breath before he speaks, “Only because you went ahead and left me behind. I could barely see your back!” He looks at Mingyu once, then allows his body to fall so that his head is beside Mingyu’s on the ground.

“If you admit to cheating, does that mean I won?”

“Is your competitive streak something innate?”

Mingyu barks out a loud laugh as he looks to his side. Wonwoo’s eyes are already fixed at him. The tan male props his head on his knuckles as his elbows raise his forearm off the ground. Wonwoo mimics him with an amused smile.

“Weeeell?” Mingyu drawls as he pouts at the man in front of him.

This earns him a flick on his forehead. “We both lost.”

Mingyu’s pout deepens, and he flops on the ground once more, “Boo! That’s no fun.” 

“What’s no fun is you two already being here but not telling me. Seriously guys?”

The two perk up. 

“Sorry, Shua-hyung,” Mingyu and Wonwoo say in unison. They both look at their older friend with apologies written on their features.

The blond gives a fake sigh of exasperation but gives the grooms-to-be a hand each anyway. A horrible idea in retrospect. 

Mingyu looks at Wonwoo. Wonwoo looks at Mingyu. The younger gives a nod, and the two pull their officiant-to-be down towards the grass.

“You punks!”

Joshua lands with an oomph half on Mingyu and half on Wonwoo, both of whom are laughing at the naivety of their older friend. 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.“ is what’s said under Joshua’s breath in his native tongue. It’s heard by both of his human cushions, however, considering the space between them, or the lack thereof.

“I’m good. Nice to meet you too.“

“Kim Mingyu, you dork.”

Wonwoo gives a light smack to his (very) muscular fiancé and his adorable English. All this elicits is a high-pitched giggle, but Wonwoo doesn’t seem upset at this result, and that’s a win for Mingyu.

The oldest among the three sighs, then stands up, no longer offering his hand to the lovebirds that have sneaked their way into his life. Instead, he beckons them with his hand, “Come on.”

Wonwoo gives a chuckle, “Yes sir.”

To stay on theme, Mingyu salutes Joshua when he stands. 

His fiancé shakes his head but leads Mingyu by the arm as he walks forward. The younger makes a show of swinging his arms and skip-walking as he follows their blond third-wheel. Wonwoo nudges him with an elbow.

“I can’t believe you get paid to walk for a living.” 

Mingyu shoots him a victorious look, “I can’t believe you’re getting married to someone who gets paid to walk.”

“And I can’t believe how slow you two are considering how excited you were when you were writing your vows!”

Again, in unison, “We love you, Shua-hyung!”

Wonwoo takes a while, stopping here and there to take pictures of their wedding venue. There’s a small smile on his face as he looks at his camera’s screen.

Mingyu looks around at the blue sky mixed with the tall, yellow grass; no wonder Wonwoo’s so fixated on capturing this moment. The gray-haired man looks at Joshua, who’s on the altar fixing a few documents.

Mingyu walks over to him, “Thanks again for doing this, hyung.”

The man looks up at his friend, then back to the ream of paper in his hands. There’s a hint of a smile that plays on his lips, “No problem at all, Mingyu. A non-Christian wedding is so weird to me though. It’s so… short.”

Mingyu flashes an apologetic smile.

The couple had originally wanted Seungkwan to be their officiant, but…

Memories of Seungkwan sniffling as he said his lines, then breaking out in full-on tears because he was “just really happy that Mingyu and Wonwoo were getting married” play like a movie in the future groom’s mind.

Mmm…

The point is: all Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Seungkwan decided it was best if the youngest would be an onlooker of the ceremony instead of the one asking the grooms to exchange their vows. Both Mingyu and Wonwoo placed their bets that Kwannie would be the one to catch their bouquet, though.

“Oh, Won. You’re done overworking yourself?” Mingyu’s consciousness returns with his older friend’s words. “Didn’t you two hire a wedding photographer for a reason?”

Wonwoo gives a sheepish smile at the blond's teasing tone. He scratches his temple with a single finger.

“Oh, come on, lovebirds.” Joshua beckons them under the makeshift wired arch at the center of the open venue. 

Wonwoo removes his camera’s leather strap from his arm, then carefully puts down the gadget on one of the front chairs near the aisle. He half jogs to take his place in front of his fiancé.

The dark-haired man gives a thin smile to Mingyu, who gives a lopsided one back. 

If it was possible to hear an eye roll, Joshua’s would be perceived from a mile away.

The lovers giggle at each other. Mingyu carefully gets Wonwoo's palms, then intertwines their hands in front of them. Wonwoo looks at the locked limbs with wide, wondrous eyes. Joshua straightens his back, then places himself in between the two.

He starts by clearing his throat.

“Friends, we have been invited here today to share with Mingyu,” a nod to the man, “and Wonwoo,” a nod to the other, “a very important moment in their lives. In the years they have been together, their love and understanding of each other have grown and matured,” Wonwoo shifts his gaze to look at Mingyu, eyes heavy, “and now they have decided to live their lives together as husband and husband.”

Mingyu gives a large nod, Wonwoo gives a small one.

Joshua smiles as he continues, “I haven’t finalized this part yet, but…”

He makes his voice grander,

“Marriage is the strongest possible union between two parties. It is forever and it is impartial. In sickness and in health, in sadness and in happiness,” you could practically hear the smile in the blond’s voice, “Your husband will be there for you, and you will be there for him. Your minds, your hearts, your lives, will forever be intertwined with one another.”

Mingyu grins. This is it. He’s always wanted to get married. He’s always wanted this.

“Your spouse is not only your significant other. He is someone you can share your burdens with,” continues Joshua.

Wonwoo looks at Mingyu with cloudy eyes.

Aw… is he already getting emotional?

“Someone who is your life partner, someone who will never leave you behind, someone who will never make you feel lonely.” Joshua looks at the couple with endeared eyes—Wonwoo with his nervous smile and Mingyu with his enthusiastic expression. The officiant gives a light chuckle, “I’m grateful to be the one to seal this union. Mingyu and Wonwoo have always been in love.”

Wonwoo fixes his eyes on Joshua instead of his fiancé. Just how nervous is he? 

“Even with how busy these two may be, they always make time for each other. Hell, I’m not sure if they’ve ever even fought.” A lopsided smile, “They can tell each other anything.” Wonwoo tightens his grip on Mingyu. “Mingyu and Wonwoo are inseparable, always with each other, always in sync. I have no doubts that they will only ever be happy with each other. For when they are together, they are the happiest.”

Mingyu lets go of his fiancé’s hands to lightly applaud his friend. Wonwoo does the same with a murky expression.

Joshua gives a small, slightly dramatic bow at the two. “Thank you, thank you.” He clears his throat. “Now. If you commit yourselves to each other’s happiness and self-fulfillment as people, promise to love, honor, and trust each other in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, and to be true and loyal to each so long as you both shall live, please say your vows.”

Joshua smiles as he looks up from the paper, but he’s met with silence.

Mingyu blinks, tilting his head to the man in front of him. The officiant does the same as he affixes his view to Wonwoo.

With a gentle voice, Joshua looks at the photographer with an outstretched document, “Wonwoo? You can say your vows now.” 

The man accepts the folded piece of paper from the officiant with shaky hands.

The brunet gulps.

A breath, “Mingyu. Do you remember when we were in high school? When we would meet up at the courtyard because that was the halfway point between our buildings?” Mingyu gives a nod, but it goes unnoticed by the groom-to-be with eyes trained on his speech, “And you could tell if I got good or bad scores on my exams just by looking at me?”

A shaky exhale.

“And when we’d go celebrating together after finals? Or we’d go study together at yours while eating mo— Auntie Kim’s snacks? In… in those moments,” Wonwoo, not once, looks up at who he’s going to marry. Mingyu frowns. He knows the other is nervous like the worrywart he is but… “we’d always be in our little bubble. In your room, it was only the two of us, laughing like the silly kids we were.”

He finally looks up.

“And now…” Wonwoo looks around the decorated field, “And now we’re going to get married because we lo-“ His eyes land on Mingyu once more, “because we loved each other back then, and our feelings have never waver—“ The man bites his plump lip.

“Wonwoo?” Joshua looks at him strangely, as if not completely comprehending what was going on.

“Because,” Wonwoo tries to continue, “because we love each other and are there for each other and make each other happy…” His deep voice becomes softer and softer.

“Hyung?”

“…”

When Wonwoo looks up at Mingyu again, it’s with shaky lips and shiny eyes, “I—“ He glances at Joshua. At the arranged seats. Back at the man he’s going to marry.

“I’m sorry.”

Then, Jeon Wonwoo turns his back and sprints away.

ii.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are in love.

Are Mingyu and Wonwoo in love?

Mingyu and Wonwoo… 

Mingyu and Wonwoo are getting married.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are not getting married.

A lump builds in Mingyu’s throat.

“Mingyu—“ Joshua looks at him with wide eyes and creased brows as he flicks his view to the fleeting figure across the field, “What was…? Are you—?”

“It’s fine, Shua-hyung.” Oddly enough, there’s no trace of a lie in Mingyu’s words, “You can…. go now. We’ll just contact you later. Thanks again.”

“Mingyu-ah…”

The model smiles at the other. Joshua sighs and sends a final concerned glance, but he swiftly collects the documents on their makeshift altar and leaves the dais.

Joshua’s silhouette is as big as Mingyu’s thumb when the ex-groom-to-be looks around once more. His eyes are glossed over as he scans the adorned arch. The white seats. The flower vases at the forefront of the podium.

And…

There’s no anger. No malice. Not even confusion. Only… a calm sort of numb that comes with the haze of what’s happened. Mingyu isn’t even aware that his legs are moving on their own. He only realizes he’s sat on one of the front seats when his bottom meets the expensive cloth on a plastic chair.

Mingyu tries to grasp his emotions from the faint thoughts in his mind. He’s not able to garner much, but he finds out one thing.

He’s not surprised.

Ironically, the revelation shocks him. After all, Kim Mingyu and Jeon Wonwoo are in love.

(They are not in love.)

They are in love.

They have to be.

How couldn’t they be?

Again, Mingyu reaches and reaches into the crevices of his brain. He comes out empty-handed. He can’t think of a single reason as to why they wouldn’t be in love.

And yet…

Kim Mingyu looks at where he and Wonwoo were standing earlier. 

Why would they still be in love?

Mingyu couldn’t find something to answer this question, either.

He lets out a long, loud sigh, lounging back on the chair. He spreads his arms on either side of him as well, that is, until his right one bumps on an oddly hard surface. He turns his head.

Wonwoo’s camera.

This is the part where Mingyu’s supposed to cry. He’s supposed to ball his eyes out and wail to the heavens, wondering why his lo— why Wonwoo has run away. Instead, his dark irises are blank as he switches the gadget on. 

Why not? are the only words in his mind.

He looks at the now open screen. It’s Mingyu and Joshua. Well, a picture of them, anyway. They’re standing under the arch, talking while in front of the altar. The soft yellow of the slowly fading sun bathes the two men in a beautiful warm overlay, and their surroundings are slightly blurred to emphasize their figures.

As expected of a top-class photographer.

Well. Mingyu’s already here. He might as well just look at the other pictures, is what he decided. But not fate, apparently. Never fate.

You see, the thing about damn cameras and their manufacturers is that they design the little black boxes for right-handed people—Wonwoo’s is no exception. Meaning, all the buttons and controls are on the right side of the camera. Mingyu’s hand-eye coordination is bad enough on his dominant hand, the left, so the right one?

Well.

Let’s just say that the secret stays between him, Wonwoo, and all the poor glassware he’s broken.

So to the left is what Mingyu commands his right hand to do when scrolling through the navigator. He wants to see the other photos Wonwoo’s taken of the field, after all. But what does his right hand do?

Not listen.

Of course.

So Mingyu scrolls right. To the beginning of the memory of Wonwoo’s SD card. To a photo taken on July 17, 2012.

Of fucking course.

A sigh.

Mingyu’s about to press left on the camera ferociously until he glances down and stops.

It’s…

It’s him and Wonwoo. They’re framed oddly, their chins not present in the photograph. Wonwoo’s arms are at the side of the frame as if he’s holding the camera away from, but still pointing toward, him. He’s smiling while wearing thickly rimmed glasses, and…

And Mingyu’s smiling as brightly as him from his side.

He can faintly make out the interior of Wonwoo’s childhood home in Changwon, as well as two gold foil balloons spelling out ’16.’

Then the lightbulb flickers on.

Wonwoo’s 16th birthday.

“Gyu… you…”

“Do you like it, hyung!”

It’s supposed to be a question, but 16-year-old Mingyu is so excited that an exclamation point best indicates how his statement is expressed. He practically vibrates with excitement as he watches his best friend, whose eyes are fixated on his lap. Or…er—what’s on his lap.

A neat, expensive-looking white box with a picture of a camera on its front.

Wonwoo, with slightly shaky lips (which he tries to hide), finally looks up at Mingyu, whose grin is as bright as ever.

“Mingyu, I—“ Wonwoo purses his lips in an attempt to stop breaking out in a smile, “I love it.”

The younger boy takes this as his cue to launch himself towards the birthday boy and envelope him in a bear hug. He gives no effort to hide the excitement in his tone, “You always talked about how interesting photography is and you’re always taking pictures of stuff with your phone and—and my mom and I were in the mall before to shop for groceries and stuff and we passed by the gadgets store and I saw that—“

“Thank you, Mingyu.”

Wonwoo’s clear, sincere voice cuts through Mingyu’s ecstatic one. 

The latter pauses his story. He meets the newly turned 16-year-old’s gaze. Wonwoo looks at him with soft, moist eyes and a sweet smile (so wide the slightest bit of teeth are poking through!!). Mingyu feels his heart stutter.

This reflects in his words: “W—well… Um. You know… uh—hyung. It’s your— birthday after all. And and I— uh. As your best friend…”

“I love it.” The words are firm, and they leave no space for doubt or suspicion. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Gyu.”

A gulp.

Mingyu shyly looks down. He mumbles, “You’re welcome.”

“Come on,” It’s Wonwoo’s turn to sound enthusiastic. He squats so that he can meet the younger’s gaze with a warm expression. “Don’t you want to open it with me?”

Almost instantly, Mingyu’s face brightens, stars practically pouring out of his double-lidded eyes, “I can??”

A nod is all it takes for the younger boy to sit beside his hyung, helping him remove the tape sealing the box’s side. As soon as they open it, they look at each other in awe. Wonwoo carefully, delicately, lifts the camera up while Mingyu gets its battery and SD card.

As soon as the two slot them in, the camera blinks red, and the two gasp. Mingyu buzzes with excitement as Wonwoo stays frozen with bright eyes. 

“What are you going to shoot first hyung!,” Mingyu starts looking around, “Maybe the balloon? Or! It could be the plants over there or the flower arrangements or—“

“Oh, just get here already, Gyu.”

“H-hu—!”

Wonwoo takes his best friend’s arm and uses it to pull the other close. Their shoulders are touching, and the older’s arm is around Mingyu. 

At the end of Wonwoo’s outstretched arms is the camera—looking right down at the two.

“On the count of three!” Wonwoo starts smiling at the camera. Mingyu looks over and hurriedly tries to do the same. “1, 2,—“

Click!

The flash is brighter than expected and the two rub their eyes right after the affair.

Mingyu whines, but his voice immediately gets cut off as soon as he sees the bright smile on Wonwoo. He’s looking at Mingyu warmly and wondrously. Suddenly, he moves to hug the younger.

Wonwoo’s face is buried at the crook of Mingyu’s neck when he murmurs, “Thank you.”

It’s not the same camera—of course not—but to think that Wonwoo still used the SD card… somehow, instead of happiness or sadness or even anger, Mingyu feels guilt.

He gulps hard.

He continues looking through the pictures of Wonwoo’s 16th: the older’s cake, his parents and brother, and Mingyu with chocolate-stained lips.

Nostalgia tugs at Mingyu’s heartstrings.

He wishes he could go back in time. That they could go back in time. 

The man swipes yet again, and the picture, this time, is from September 26, 2015. Mingyu recognizes the place right away—their college.

It's of the two of them yet again, but it’s someone else taking the picture. They’re in casual clothes, though Mingyu is dressed up nicer than Wonwoo, and they’re posing with big smiles while holding up their university IDs.

…Ah.

“And this, Gyu, is the College of Business’s food court, so if you ever want a quick bi— oh that?”

Wonwoo stops to follow his younger friend’s line of sight. It’s focused on the open field in front of the building they're in. The (then) maroon-haired man lets out a chuckle because he’s well aware Mingyu has always loved sports and the outdoors.

“That’s the College of Sports Science’s field.” There’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice, “We can go visit there if you’d like.”

“Can we?”

Mingyu’s eyes immediately light up like stars, a smile slowly but surely making its way on his lips.

His hyung tilts his head that way and starts walking, but not before looking back to check if Mingyu’s following in his tracks. Mingyu’s cheeks will most definitely be sore later because of how taut they are, but his grin stays the same as he rushes over to walk beside his hyung.

They arrive at the field soon enough, their clothes fluttering lightly because of the pleasant gale in the open area. Mingyu closes his eyes, tilts his head up, and spreads out his arms to enjoy the breeze completely.

He thinks he hears a soft, “Dork.” But it's washed away by footsteps crunching over grass and the voice of another.

Slowly, Mingyu opens his eyes and looks to the source of the mumbling. 

There’s a bit of an ugly feeling in Mingyu’s chest—the type that squeezes and squeezes at Mingyu’s middle and twists, the type that makes the corners of his lips scowl—when he sees Wonwoo with his college friend. 

And yes. Yes. Mingyu knows that Wonwoo can spend time with and befriend whomever he pleases, but knowing that fact does nothing to stop Mingyu’s urge to pout at Wonwoo chatting with… what’s-his-name. Wonwoo is showing the other student the display of his camera, even giving the brunet the dark device, an object he’s so possessive of.

Mingyu grounds his teeth. Wonwoo can do whatever he wants. Share his precious things with whoever he wants. Fine. The freshman is just about to mobilize and leave but—

Wonwoo rushes over to him quickly, throwing a skinny arm over Mingyu’s broad shoulders. He looks at the younger brightly and cocks his head to the friend he was just talking to, who— oh.

Who’s pointing a camera at them.

The boy’s breath catches in his throat. He… Wonwoo…

“Gyu…” It’s gentle, though a bit distorted since Wonwoo’s speaking through his teeth. He tightens then realizes his hold on Mingyu’s left shoulder blade, “Smile!”

Mingyu quickly hugs Wonwoo’s waist with his right arm and looks straight at the camera with a toothy smile. He raises his uni ID with his other hand.

The shutter goes off as Wonwoo laughs at his freshman shenanigans.

Mingyu’s gaze can only be described as cloudy. If Wonwoo were here, he would describe his eyes as unfocused lenses.

Ha. If Wonwoo were here.

The model lets out a long, empty sigh. He hangs his head, then closes his eyes. There’s a gentle breeze drifting across the field, but there’s no smile on Mingyu’s face. There’s no reason for him to smile.

He looks down again, ignoring the dull ache in his chest. He can do that now. He can ignore it now. He’s had enough time to get used to it, after all.

The man once again goes through the pictures, landing on one dated March 16, 2015. This time it's not of the lovers— er… boys. No, the picture illustrates a more familiar sight, one with tall yellow grass and a light cyan sky overhead.

It's the field; to be precise, it's a flower on the field. But one can still see the tiniest sliver of Mingyu’s legs at the side of the frame. 

This memory… 

A sigh. Mingyu’s not even sure if he considers it a good one or a bad one anymore.

Click!

As soon as the shutter goes off, Wonwoo rises to his full height, no longer squatting to get a better angle of the lone wildflower on the field. He excitedly looks at what he’s taken, raising a brow when he sees a certain someone’s dark pants at the corner of the screen.

He sighs, but it’s not at all exasperated, as he glances up to who’s wearing said pants. And Mingyu, in Mingyu-esque fashion, is jumping up, trying to reach one of the higher branches on a nearby tree.

“Respect your elders, will you? You’re tall, but Mother Nature has dictated that you shall be a dwarf compared to those probably centuries older than you.”

“If a tree qualifies as an elder to me, then what shall thee be? A six-year-old boasting about his age to a five-year-old?”

Wonwoo lets out a loud snort as Mingyu’s language.

“I called you tall at the very least, didn’t I?”

Mingyu stops his jumping and finally puts his hands down. He looks at his hyung and sticks out a tongue.

“But it’s already a fact, just saying it out loud doesn’t mean that it,” Mingyu makes exaggerated hand movements, “came to be just because you voiced it out.”

“Oh, you fool.”

Wonwoo sighs dramatically as he says it, his words bearing no bite. He goes closer to the tree and leans the side of his shoulder on it as he crosses his arms. 

Mingyu barks out a bright laugh, “I’m surprised you didn’t say nincompoop or some other term they used back in 1854.” He walks closer to Wonwoo anyway.

The older looks up at him with a strange… almost sad glint in his eye. His beautiful mouth twists—in bitterness or with teasing in mind, Mingyu can’t tell.

“You know,” starts the younger, “for someone who just got accepted into his dream internship, you seem pretty darn disappointed.”

Wonwoo closes his eyes, cocking his head so that his temple rests on the chestnut bark. “...It’s scary. Almost being an adult.” He opens his eyes to observe the grass below him, “I don’t want to even entertain the thought we might not be able to screw around like this anymore after I graduate.”

A snort.

Wonwoo affixes his gaze to his best friend.

“Lame.” proclaims Mingyu, “We’re gonna annoy each other ’til the end of our days. I don’t see any other future for us. Don’t be a worrywart and think otherwise.”

“…”

Mingyu raises a brow at the stare his hyung’s giving him. He’s just about to open his mouth to ask what Wonwoo’s doing, but—

“You know, Gyu,” There’s a tightness in Wonwoo’s voice that wasn’t there before. He turns his head to the side. Perhaps he had something stuck in his throat. Oh, Mingyu’s poor hyung. “You’re never going to get a girlfriend with that insulting habit of yours.”

Mingyu stops.

A frown makes its way to his face.

He meets Wonwoo’s teasing expression. Mingyu stares right into the midnight irises that don’t match its owner's elegant visage’s expression.

“Well? Gy—“

“I don’t want a girlfriend.”

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to stop mid-speech.

He snaps his mouth shut and his pupils follow Mingyu, eyes widening ever so slightly.

There’s a glint of something, some emotion that makes his eyes shine, and he speaks once more, “Then… a boyf—“

“You.”

Wonwoo’s head snaps to the side so fast that Mingyu would be concerned if he didn’t have to deal with his own concerning heart rate.

“I want you.” But he’s grateful there’s no hesitation in his voice. But Mingyu figures he doesn’t need it. He’s known this for a long time now, after all, “I want to date you.”

Wonwoo stays frozen, vulnerable enough that Mingyu can see the emotions that flicker in and out of his eyes. Shock. Fear. Confusion. Anticipation. Relief?

Mingyu stalks closer to him, looking down to the older. His eyes are soft, fearful because he can’t lose Wonwoo. But Mingyu’s not sure if he can handle being just friends. And he just… He’s….

“H-hyung—“

Without warning, a pale hand shoots up to grab Mingyu’s collar, it pulls down with admirable strength, and smashes Mingyu’s lips to a pair of plush, warm ones. Softer than he’d imagined. Better than he’d imagined.

And Mingyu has imagined this a concerning amount.

The kiss is fleeting. Innocent. Magical, but definitely not enough for 11 years’ worth of yearning. 

Wonwoo looks up at Mingyu’s gaze with emotional eyes under dark lashes. The view in itself is enough to make Mingyu’s chest soar.

“Me too.” is what Wonwoo finally says after a gulp. His voice is out of breath, but determined, sure, nonetheless. “I want you, Kim Mingyu.”

The half-week after that day, Mingyu and Wonwoo had to convince Auntie Jeon that Wonwoo was having a turtleneck phase. But it was worth it.

The present Mingyu can only summon a sad, dry excuse of a scoff as he gazes at the photograph.

After all, the kisses he’d been sharing with Wonwoo as of recently had been… 

…

A while ago, Wonwoo looked at him with soft eyes. Wonwoo styled his hair the way Mingyu likes it. Wonwoo showed that beautiful smile only ever seen when he’s particularly proud of a photograph. 

God, Wonwoo said his wedding vows (or at least half of them) to Mingyu.

And…

And Mingyu liked it.

It made warmth blossom in his chest. It enveloped him in comfort and familiarity. 

But—

Mingyu’s hold on the camera tightens.

But Mingyu, admittedly, did not love it.

Did it make his heart soar and fill him with the desire to leave all else but Wonwoo? No. Did it make his chest ache because no human cavity could be a sufficient vessel for all the feelings he had for the older? No. Did it give Mingyu the strength to become Atlas for the other? To hold the entire world up just for Wonwoo? No. 

Not anymore, at least. 

Mingyu tilts his head, brows furrowed. Heat starts to build up at the bottom of his eyes.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Mingyu loves Wonwoo.

It’s a fact ingrained in his very being.

It’s something he’s known since he was an innocent 7-year-old, only the slightest bit obsessed by the bookwormish upperclassman who showed him around the school. It’s something he’s carried since he was a gangly teenager, whose chest would be filled whenever Wonwoo would come over to help with Literature. It’s something he’s lived out since he became a model because he…

He’d….

—Mingyu loves Wonwoo.

He swears he does.

How couldn’t he?

How wouldn’t he?

He gulps audibly, shaking his head. More fervently, he picks up and scrolls through the camera again, as if the device could answer all his questions.

He goes over the pictures blindly, surprised that they’re now all from 2020.

He blinks as his right hand stops without warning on a particular picture. It’s of a night market, faintly illuminated by fairy lights overhead. In copyrighted Wonwoo fashion, the darkness does little to desaturate the shot, lights bright as bokeh and sky dark to make the other colors pop up.

At the very center of the frame is Mingyu’s back, his coat pocket bulging ever so slightly.

Mingyu’s lips go slack, and his mouth slowly becomes ajar. A warm tear touches his cheek.

The man clenches his fist so that the figure of a silver ring burns into his palm.

Mingyu gives a small smile as he sees Wonwoo look down at his camera’s screen with a bright grin. He looked back as soon as he heard the shutter’s click.

“Hyuuuung,” Mingyu whines. Can anyone blame him? He’s been psyching himself up for this, and he wants to do it already. “What is it?”

Wonwoo looks up with a thin smile. He gives a shake of his head, “Nothing. Sorry.” He jogs towards Mingyu, who’s waiting patiently with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. “Where are you taking us?”

Mingyu tilts his head to gesture towards the river bank. It’s beautifully illuminated because of the market, and Mingyu’s sure that it’s a sight that’s perfect for his photographer boyfriend (who might soon be something more). He turns to face Wonwoo once again, certain that the older will look over with bright, excited eyes.

Instead, the charcoal-haired man is looking down at Mingyu’s coat pockets.

The model blinks for a bit, freezing up. He unconsciously covers the hidden object there with his left hand. Did Wonwoo see the slight bulge there? Does he know? Mingyu observes the other’s face to find out.

Alas, the photographer has long perfected his poker face. So Mingyu has no choice but to ask—

“…Wonwoo-hyung?”

“Hm?” He lifts his dark eyes to focus his attention on Mingyu’s face, rather than where his hands are stuffed in, “What?”

“You’re not supposed to act like this.” Mingyu shakes his head, “I thought you would’ve been happy with how pretty the scenery is.”

A gentle smile.

Wonwoo crinkles his eyes as he lightly flicks his boyfriend’s forehead, “You’re prettier.” He opens his eyes, nods at the riverbank, and faces Mingyu once more. “It’s a beautiful place. Thank you for bringing me here.”

That’s more what Mingyu expected. 

He beckons Wonwoo to come closer to a specific blanket by the illuminated river. Mingyu asked someone to set it up especially for them. 

It’s only when Wonwoo is seated comfortably on the red cloth and after Mingyu pops open the bottle of champagne that the younger finally speaks. He takes a deep breath:

“Hyung.” Mingyu looks up towards Wonwoo with clear eyes. “Do you remember when we were still starting out in our relationship— er… no. Actually—“

What a wonderful start.

Wonwoo grimaces ever so slightly, eyes a bit guarded. He plays with the cuffs of his long-sleeve shirt. But nevertheless, he musters a smile, nodding to beckon Mingyu to continue.

“Even when we were still kids and only best friends. We said that we couldn’t see a future without each other.”

Wonwoo gives a silent, affirmative nod.

“And… and when we were exploring love, we said that we would be together forever.”

Again, a nod. This time, it’s accompanied by shining eyes. If it weren’t so dark, Mingyu would say that Wonwoo’s brows were slightly creased. 

But Mingyu carries on.

“I want to fulfill that promise today.” There’s no hesitation in his voice. He brings out the small, velvet box from his coat pocket. “It’s about time we got married, right?” The younger gives a playful smirk.

Wonwoo freezes.

His eyes fixate on the black box, a breath stuck in his throat.

Mingyu chuckles at the sight.

“Will you marry me, hyung? We always knew this was coming.” Mingyu gives a gentle smile as he gets on one knee, “Let’s stay together forever. Officially.” Then, cheekily, “I’ve always wanted to be a husband.”

“Mingyu.”

Wonwoo looks at his lover straight on. There’s a moist glimmer at the corner of his eyes as he tries himself from smiling too hard.

He nods profusely, “Yes. Let’s get married. I—“ The tear finally falls, and Wonwoo lets out a soft chuckle as his voice becomes softer, “I can’t wait to be yours. And for you to be mine.”

Mingyu gets up giddily and engulfs Wonwoo in a hug. He rests his chin on the crown of his lover’s head, hands never leaving their rightful place around Wonwoo’s waist.

The older buries his head into Mingyu’s shoulder. Wonwoo rests his chin there to whisper in Mingyu’s ear, “I love you. There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend my life with you.”

The model giggles, pulling away to land a kiss on the top of Wonwoo’s head. Then he embraces his boyf—fiancé once more as he looks towards the horizon. There’s a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“I love you, too. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

iii.

Mingyu and Wonwoo were in love. 

That, even Wonwoo is certain of.

His own feelings weren’t fake. Neither were Mingyu’s. A tad bit… twisted, perhaps, towards the end of it all. But they weren’t fake. They couldn't have been.

“Hyung!”

Like always, Mingyu’s eyes are clear and excited. Hell, the man is even visibly buzzing with anticipation. It brings a smile to Wonwoo’s face.

“Yes, Gyu?”

“I did it!” Mingyu jumps forward. One moment he’s by the doorway, another, and he’s twirling Wonwoo in the air. He puts his boyfriend down, kisses him quickly, then holds out his phone outstretched. “I’m gonna sign with S.COUPS Ent!”

The (then) brunet looks at Wonwoo with eyes shining with moisture. The older looks at him for a moment, then brings Mingyu towards his chest once more in an embrace. 

He clutches Mingyu’s shoulder blades as the other crouches down ever so slightly to bury his forehead in the crook of Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“I’m—“ It’s Mingyu’s win, yes, but Wonwoo gets emotional nonetheless, “I’m so proud of you, Gyu.” He pulls back to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, then brings his face closer to trap the other in a fleeting kiss. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve this so much. I’m so excited for you. You’ll do great.”

Mingyu tilts his head forward so that the pair’s foreheads are touching.

He gazes at the older with soft eyes, “Really?”

“Yes, Mingyu.” There’s no hesitation in Wonwoo’s voice as he gently strokes Mingyu’s stray tear away, “You’re going to be amazing. Show-stopping. You already are.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Gyu.”

That wasn’t fake.

The intimacy, the genuine happiness, the love. Those weren’t fake.

In fact, at that point in time, Wonwoo was already signed as a photographer for a moderately well-known magazine. But he quit to join the same entertainment agency as Mingyu’s. He did it in a heartbeat.

“Really, hyung?”

“Of course, Gyu.”

The bottom of Wonwoo’s eyes crinkle as he gazes lovingly at his boyfriend. He gets a dark face mask from the countertop closest to them, extending it towards the younger.

Mingyu’s modeling career has been gaining traction for a while now, a fact celebrated by the lovers. It’s come to the point that the younger has to be cautious whenever he goes out in public, even when he’s going to his agency’s office, exactly what the pair are up to right now.

Well, to be fair, now it’s their agency, Wonwoo transferring there and all. It brings warmth to the photographer’s chest. That they could be together in spite of Mingyu’s now very busy schedule.

Mingyu takes the black face mask gratefully from him, adjusting it so that only the slivers of his eyes are seen. He moves towards the door immediately, not noticing Wonwoo’s outstretched hand behind him, ready to be held by Mingyu’s own.

A blink.

Wonwoo hurriedly goes after Mingyu, hauling his camera bag behind him. At the clunky sound, the taller turns back to his boyfriend, smiling. Wonwoo can’t see it, of course, but he knows Mingyu well enough to see behind the black cloth obscuring his face.

“Ah, the weather is nice.” Mingyu closes his eyes to savor the sunlight on his skin. “The shoot should go well later. That’s good.”

Wonwoo grins, nodding to Mingyu’s words as he catches up to the younger. He slips his fingers between Mingyu’s own.

The younger cringes away, gently pulling his hand back to stuff them in his pockets.

A moment passes without Wonwoo’s heart making a beat.

Wonwoo’s chest tightens as his eyes widen in panic. His now solitary hand suddenly weighs heavier.

Did… something happen? Were they not ok?

He’s afraid to look at Mingyu before he hears a—

“Sorry, hyung.” Mingyu sounds genuinely apologetic. 

Wonwoo hesitantly looks up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, which are soft. Vulnerable. They peer into Wonwoo’s own with guilt, “I’m sorry, Wonwoo-hyung. I love you.” 

There’s instant relief that spreads through Wonwoo’s chest.

But—

“Did I…” A gulp. “Did I not tell you?”

“…Tell me what?”

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side as he continues walking. He’s realized that the two were blocking the way if they just stood still. Mingyu follows suit as he releases a sigh.

“My…” There’s genuine conflict in Mingyu’s eyes as he continues, “My manager said that I should try to lessen physical shows of affection in public. Because of… you know.” His voice grows softer and softer towards the end of the sentence. Mingyu looks down in shame.

“Hey.”

The younger looks up to meet Wonwoo’s elegant visage, absolved of any anger or disappointment. No, there was only gentle understanding there. Relief, too.

“It’s ok.” A warm smile, “Really. I understand, you just have to be cautious.”

Mingyu nods, expelling a breath. His shoulders visibly slacken, which amuses Wonwoo.

“Thank you, hyung.”

“We’re still up for our date later though, right?”

Mingyu freezes.

Wonwoo purses his lips but quickly clears his expression for Mingyu’s sake.

Again, an understanding smile spreads on Wonwoo’s face. It’s fine. Really, it is. It’s not like it’s the first time. Not with Mingyu’s career keeping him busy with photoshoots or show training extending schedules and whatnot.

It’s fine. the younger probably has enough on his mind. 

“Sorry, hyung.” cringes out Mingyu.

Wonwoo has to stop his hand from extending out to pat the other’s back. He instead lets out a chuckle, “No worries. Just work hard later.”

“Definitely.”

Mingyu flashes a bright grin towards Wonwoo, who smiles back thinly.

Even now, perhaps, just perhaps, Wonwoo harbors the tiniest bit of resentment for Mingyu’s job. 

Mingyu loves it.

Wonwoo knows that. He respects that. For a long time, Wonwoo tried his best to love it too. In his defense, he liked it in the beginning. It was Mingyu’s heart and soul. His passion and love.

Wonwoo’s not petty enough to say that modeling stole his lover from him.

Well. Not out loud, at least.

“Ah. You must be the boyfriend.”

Wonwoo looks back towards the source of the euphonious voice. He instinctively offers a friendly smile to the beautiful redhead and the blue-haired man beside him.

“That would be me.” Wonwoo gives a shallow bow to the pair. “Jeon Wonwoo. I’m the photographer for the site beside this one. We’re on a short break, so I came to visit. It’s nice to meet you.”

When Wonwoo stands at full height once more, he’s met with a wry smile.

“I’m Jeonghan. Mingyu’s make-up artist for this shoot.” The redhead offers an outstretched hand as he flashes a bunny-toothed smile. “Nice to meet you, Wonwoo.”

“Like calls to like, huh?” The pale man lets out a sigh as he, too, offers his hand to be shaken, “Both of you are so damn tall. Lee Jihoon. I’m in charge of hair.”

Wonwoo smiles as he shakes both of their hands. He looks at Jihoon’s crown of sky blue, “I like yours.”

“…Thank you.”

“And you’re…” Wonwoo’s eyes widen as he looks at Jeonghan, “the Yoon Jeonghan. Wow.”

“My reputation precedes me, evidently.” Jeonghan chuckles sheepishly, “You’re probably looking for Mingyu. He’s over,” The man cocks his head to the corner of the warehouse where an entire, elaborate set can be seen, “there. But I don’t think he’s gonna finish for a while.”

Wonwoo peers over.

An endeared smile almost instantly graces his sharp features as he sees Mingyu giggling in between shots. He poses for the camera whilst leaning on a hardwood table, eyes shining as his photographer comes close to let him take a look at what they’ve done so far.

He’s happy.

Wonwoo can see it in his face as clear as day. That fact alone can sustain Wonwoo through the day. It spreads warmth across his abdomen.

“…Gross.”

“Oh, shush, Ji.” Wonwoo looks back to witness Jeonghan waving his companion away, “Go find Junhui and be all lovey-dovey with him instead.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes at the make-up artist but leaves anyway once he spots a lilac head near the buffet table.

Jeonghan winks mischievously at Wonwoo, who smiles before setting his eyes on Mingyu once more. He tries to savor the heat in his chest before he identifies it, but not as warm satisfaction or the love he’d feel when out on dates with his boyfriend. No. For some reason, it feels more like a caustic weight on Wonwoo’s chest.

He casts his eyes down.

Why would he—?

“You’re really pretty.” Jeonghan enters Wonwoo’s line of sight, squatting ever so slightly so he can meet the latter’s prostrate pupils. He smiles gently, “Can I do your make-up?”

“I—“ Wonwoo blinks, “Sure…?” He looks around, “Are you allowed to? Or— Oh ok.“

The shorter of the two leads Wonwoo to a chair set up in front of an illuminated mirror, a full table in front of it. The photographer sits on the plastic chair, meeting Jeonghan’s eyes through the mirror.

“I’ll make this quick, don’t worry.” He grins, “Sorry. It’s just a bad habit of mine to want to do faces I think are very striking.” He giddily picks up a palette of dark shadows, “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to play with this one.”

Jeonghan hums as he opens it, cleaning a small brush before dipping it in one of the palette’s tins.

From his peripheral, Wonwoo sees that Jeonghan has purposefully chosen the make-up station where his guest can’t see Mingyu doing his shoots. His eyes meet Jeonghan’s once more in the mirror, but the older gives an innocent smile.

A breath.

Wonwoo’s not sure if he’s grateful for or scared of the other’s disingenuousness, but he’s relieved nonetheless to have been saved from the growing malaise caused by watching Mingyu doing his shoot. 

The man closes his eyes as the feathery tip of a brush meets his eyelid.

Wonwoo’s mind conjures the sight of an ecstatic Mingyu once more, chocolate irises shining as he looks at himself through a camera screen.

…When was the last time he looked like that with Wonwoo?

And the man knows he’s a chronic overthinker, making stretches not healthy for his peace of mind. But… with Mingyu being so happy doing his job, not even noticing his love peering at him… is it really Wonwoo’s fault for entertaining the fleeting thought he may well be an interloper?

“I’m just going to add a touch of purple here, ‘mkay?” Jeonghan’s gentle voice is followed by a sharp brush at the corner of Wonwoo’s eyes, “Mingyu says it’s your favorite color.”

…

It’s green now, actually. But at one point it was purple, so props to Mingyu, tries to reason Wonwoo.

He bites his lip.

A dreamy sigh from the make-up artist.

“He never speaks of you, you know.” Wonwoo tries to not tense up. Jeonghan, oblivious to his faux pas, continues, “I think it’s an act of love in itself. In his line of work, you can’t let anything get publicized, so he has to keep quiet about so much.” A chuckle as he moves to the other eye, “Strong guy, that one. If I had a boyfriend, I’m not sure if I could keep quiet about it.”

Wonwoo gives a thin smile, “If I could nod my head right now, I would.” he tries to joke, referring to Jeonghan’s left hand keeping his head in place.

The older laughs.

“Oh. You’re here?”

At the familiar voice, the hand on his jaw slackens, and Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open. Through the bright mirror, he sees Mingyu giving a reticent smile at him. 

To the pair’s right, Jeonghan lets out an airy laugh, eyes going back on forth on the pair. He winks at Wonwoo first.

“I’ll finish my work later.” Then, he turns his back and walks the other way, stopping beside Mingyu before he takes his leave. “Cheollie doesn't usually hire blabbermouths, so you can show a bit more emotion. If your manager gets upset, I can talk to her.” He pokes good fun at the model before he calls out for some Channie and jogs away.

“Hyung,” Mingyu flashes a smile before going behind Wonwoo’s chair and rests his palms on its back. “What are you doing here?”

“…”

Mingyu knows the reason. He should, anyway.

“—I wanted to surprise you.” Wonwoo shows a tempestuous smile.

Mingyu giggles.

He spins the plastic chair so that Wonwoo’s facing his excitable eyes. They’re soon slits because of his huge smile.

“Aww!” Mingyu ruffles Wonwoo’s hair, “You did! It was so nice to see you here.” 

He opens his eyes again. For better or for worse, all Wonwoo can identify there is genuine pleasant surprise.

It’s… objectively good. One should be happy if their partner is glad to see them when you pop in to surprise them, right?

Wonwoo shouldn’t be disappointed that Mingyu holds no hint of jealousy after seeing him with Jeonghan. He shouldn’t ache for Mingyu’s touch in a public place. Shouldn’t entertain the trepidation in his chest that Mingyu doesn’t remember their anniversary.

Of course Mingyu does.

…Right?

“We’re…” A gulp. His fear is irrational, he knows, but Wonwoo doesn’t dare face Mingyu’s countenance as he speaks. “We’re still on for later, yeah?”

Mingyu goes silent.

Wonwoo averts his eyes to the ground.

Amidst the pair’s silence, there’s susurrus in the photographer’s mind, telling him it’s his fault for expecting that much. Of course Mingyu’s busy. He—He doesn’t have enough idle time to humor Wonwoo’s vapid love. How foolish of Wonwoo for expecting otherwise, no?

“Hyung—“

“It’s fine!” Wonwoo pushes the anagapesis bubbling in his chest down, “I was just about to tell you that I was going to go out with co-workers later, so I couldn’t also go.” 

Wonwoo flashes a crooked smile at his boyfriend with the chimerical hope Mingyu sees through his poor farce.

But… well.

Mingyu doesn’t.

And that’s that, Wonwoo figures.

“Oh!” There’s blatant relief on Mingyu’s features. “Whew, that’s good.” A dagger shoots through Wonwoo's aorta. “I’ll be back home late, so don’t wait up. I’ll prepare breakfast for tomorrow morning.”

Wonwoo nods as he holds in a sigh.

He leans forward to at least kiss Mingyu’s cheek, but he’s intercepted midway and pulled for a quick hug instead.

Ah.

Maybe Wonwoo should accept Soonyoung’s invitation for acting classes after all. By now, Wonwoo should be blasé about this circumstance. Or, at the very least, be able to hide it better.

He closes his eyes at Mingyu's embrace to hide the sorrow in his dark irises.

For the longest time, Wonwoo blamed himself. Perhaps it was his fault for expecting too much from a boyfriend who was already working so hard. Perhaps he wasn’t compensating enough to keep their relationship afloat. Perhaps he wasn’t showing his love enough. 

They…

Mingyu and Wonwoo still loved each other, after all. It would be Wonwoo’s fault if that love ever ceased, right?

So he’d surprise Mingyu at work and arrange dates that may or may not have pushed through and remember Mingyu’s favorite foods even if the younger didn’t remember Wonwoo’s and play the happy boyfriend in outings.

But then it occurred to Wonwoo one day.

Did they?

Did Wonwoo and Mingyu really still love each other?

“Welcome home.”

Mingyu smiles at Wonwoo as he closes their home’s door behind him. He hangs his coat on the living room sofa before approaching his boyfriend and shifting his weight on him. 

“Ah,” Mingyu rests his head on top of Wonwoo’s, “It’s so nice to have someone waiting for you at home.”

…

You see, Wonwoo has long noticed this. Whenever Mingyu makes comments like these, there’s never a you. Mingyu thinks it’s nice to have someone waiting for him at home. But he pays no heed as to whether or not it’s Wonwoo, the older guesses.

Mingyu presses a quick kiss to his lover’s charcoal crown, before stretching and checking the dining table for this evening’s meal.

Somewhere between filling their cups with cold water and serving himself some japchae, Wonwoo raises his new favorite topic of discussion with Mingyu:

“Do you ever think about getting married?” 

Wonwoo likes to check if he’s still in his boyfriend’s perception of the future. He likes to hurt himself that way.

Mingyu’s eyes visibly shine as he hears the question, quickly gulping down his food and wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve right after. “Yes! Of course.” A cheeky smile, “I want to be a husband.”

Not I want to be your husband.

Wonwoo smiles thinly as he takes a sip of his now tepid water. He nods at the invective and silently urges Mingyu to continue.

“Ah, I really couldn’t imagine a future alone.” Mingyu puts down his utensils and tilts his head as he rests it atop his palm, “It leans more to the side of banality, but I would love to settle down with adopted children. Raising a family sounds like the dream.”

Mingyu doesn’t notice the flagrance of what he said—or, rather, didn’t say. Who he didn’t say anything about.

Wonwoo looks down to avoid Mingyu’s gaze, picking some kimchi with his chopsticks, “...I wonder who the other staff will be on my shoot tomorrow.”

A blink.

Mingyu cocks his head at Wonwoo’s non sequitur. 

The older has found that talking with Jeonghan, Jihoon, and Junhui is always a great way to pass the time and clear his head. Especially after a particularly mentally draining day, Wonwoo appreciates the stylists.

Finally, Wonwoo looks back at Mingyu’s eyes and gives a smile, crinkling the bottom of his eyes ever so slightly. He wonders when he ever developed his partiality to hurting himself like this. 

He shakes his head.

“Where did we go for Christmas last year?” Wonwoo offers a sheepish smile as looks to the side once more, “Sorry. I forget.”

Mingyu raises a brow, “You’re weird, hyung.” He draws his brows together, “We— um…”

Wonwoo gulps down his water as he waits patiently.

“Didn’t we just… stay home last Christmas?”

“Ah. That’s right.” Wonwoo smiles at his boyfriend’s wrong guess. He chuckles as he fills Mingyu’s plate with more side dishes. He’s careful to face the plates rather than his boyfriend’s face, “Sorry, my mind is kind of all over the place.”

“No worry, hyung!”

Mingyu eagerly accepts the food as he continues on with his meal, oblivious to the sad curve of Wonwoo's lips.

They went to Jeju for Christmas. Wonwoo spent his days off planning the 4-day trip, even phoning Seungkwan to ask for clandestine must-see destinations there. Wonwoo still has an orange-scented postcard in his bedside drawer.

It’s fine if Mingyu doesn’t remember.

There’s a thought experiment Wonwoo finds really interesting. Schrödinger’s cat.

It’s this whole thing about quantum mechanics and superposition, but the gist of it is: there’s a hypothetical cat. You put it in a hypothetical box with a hypothetical radioactive substance. With the box closed, you don’t know if the cat is or is not dead because of the substance.

In fact, while the box stays closed, the cat is both dead and alive.

The only time its states of living become mutually exclusive is when you open the box. Once there’s an observation, the cat is either dead or alive. Not more ands. No more in-betweens. Only one or the other.

Well.

They did it. 

Wonwoo and Mingyu did it. They opened the box. They killed the cat.

The night Mingyu went down on one knee, Wonwoo shed genuine tears of joy. It was a decisive moment in their relationship, finally. It wasn’t Wonwoo cooking even if he was horrible at it in an attempt to please an in-his-head Mingyu. It wasn’t Mingyu in one of his good, no-work moods, pulling along a surprised Wonwoo. It was both of them present, making a decision to shift their relationship.

It was more than Wonwoo could ask for.

After all, with Mingyu always busy with work, their relationship always seems muddy. Labyrinthine. Superpositioned.

Visceral and farcical. Perennial and fleeting. Passionate and perfunctory.

Mingyu and Wonwoo were in love. Mingyu and Wonwoo weren’t in love. Mingyu and Wonwoo knew each other. Mingyu and Wonwoo long have lost touch with each other.

They were in their own box. Their love was both alive and dead. 

On that night, across that river, they opened the box.

Mingyu and Wonwoo decided that they were in love. That they would be in love.

But now Wonwoo is a runaway groom-to-be stopping in a half-crowded road to dig the heels of his palms on his thighs and catch his breath. And his lungs are on fire, but they’re so much freer here than they were on the field’s dais. 

He moves to wipe the sweat off of the side of his face. The dry tear-streaks on his pale skin remind him of just how stifling, suffocating, guilt is. How deeply it’s embedded itself in his being. 

He lets out a shaky breath and looks for a bench he can sit on.

He gulps and takes out his phone.

Wonwoo does what his instinct tells him to do.

And he…

Wonwoo knows that it’s wrong, ok?

You don’t need to tell him that. The raggedness of his breath, the warmth at the back of his eyes, his trembling hands, the lump in his throat—they all tell him that he’s an asshole. Jeon Wonwoo royally fucked up. And he’s going to dig himself an even deeper hole with this.

But…

He presses the first person on his speed dial.

But he calls Jeonghan anyway.

Wonwoo shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he waits restlessly in front of a familiar wooden door. He’s already told its resident that he’s here, so all he can do is wrap his scarf tighter around his neck and let the padding of footsteps across the wall comfort him.

Like clockwork—or perhaps just a reliable presence in Wonwoo’s life—Yoon Jeonghan opens the door with soft eyes and ruffled brown hair.

He takes in Wonwoo’s appearance—his flushed nose and swollen eye bags, his tired pupils and debilitated posture. Maybe Wonwoo was just in a doldrum, burnt out by the several shoots he’s had to do this month.

But Jeonghan knows better.

The two have grown close, you see, after countless joint shoots held by their contracted agency. Wonwoo revels in the older’s gentle yet truthful nature. He even (and only sometimes mind you) enjoys the older's teasing antics. Wonwoo’s especially grateful for all the times the older consoled him with friends' nights out when Mingyu had afterparties with his fellow models.

Now, Jeonghan is Wonwoo’s querencia, who the younger can go to when he needs someone to talk to.

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, but beckons Wonwoo inside his home anyway, leading him to the living room couch with a gentle hand on the small of the younger’s back. Once they’re both seated on the cream plush, Wonwoo speaks while his eyes are trained on the fingers atop his lap.

“Jeonghan-hyung, I’m sorry I—“

“How are you, Wonwoo?”

“—?”

A blink. Wonwoo faces up and meets the endless abyss of Jeonghan’s placid eyes. They’re considerate, yes, only ever gently prodding Wonwoo about his condition. But they’re unrelenting, neither dumb nor apathetic enough to simply accept a perfunctory response.

“How have you been? Are you ok?”

Wonwoo gulps, closing his eyes as he swallows down this pill.

It’s been a while, he realizes, since he’s heard these words from someone other than Soonyoung and Jeonghan.

He opens them again and looks at the doe-eyed brunet once more as he lets out a soft, “I’m not ok, hyung.”

A gentle nod.

Jeonghan gives a reassuring smile and opens his arms. Wonwoo leans in and embraces the older easily. 

Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he allows himself to bathe in the older’s warmth. He doesn’t fight the slacking of his shoulders or hotness springing out of his eyes. He hugs Jeonghan tighter as light palms draw circles on his back.

“Has he called at all?” murmurs Jeonghan into Wonwoo’s charcoal locks. He’s referring to the younger’s fiancé, of course, abroad for some Winter runway event.

“No, not really.” Wonwoo bites his lip, “He did for when he landed, but after that…” 

The make-up artist hums.

As if wanting to become smaller, Wonwoo hunches his back, curling into Jeonghan’s warmth. He stays there for a bit, but he’s soon pulled back and is met with the older’s firm earthy globes.

“Not like that,” he says softly. Jeonghan pushes Wonwoo’s shoulder’s back to fix his posture, “Stand tall, Wonu-yah. You are not so meek as to resign to this.” He offers a small smile at his dongsaeng, “Now, what’s wrong?”

Wonwoo lets out a breath as he tilts his chin up as per Jeonghan’s request. His heart is still heavy, but he sounds a bit more firm as he says, “I promised to be with Mingyu through thick and thin. I want to keep that promise, especially after we say it on the altar.”

Jeonghan’s cheeks stiffen, but he nods. He holds Wonwoo’s shaking hands and rubs his thumbs against Wonwoo’s knuckles.

“But it’s hard…” Wonwoo’s voice cracks ever so slightly. “It’s hard when he’s gone and I’m left with nothing but the knowledge he’s happier there with his job than he ever is by my side.” Wonwoo’s hands tighten below Jeonghan’s. “It’s hard when he’s here and the feeling is hardly different. We could be in the same room and still, I’d never even hope of reaching him.”

There’s warmth at the back of Wonwoo’s eyes, and he looks away from the elegant countenance across from his. 

But there’s a tender touch to his jaw that pulls him to look at Jeonghan once more.

“And?” The older’s voice is a silk thread guiding Wonwoo away from the emptiness in his heart. It’s what causes Wonwoo to let go of all the burdens on his back. The secrets in his heart he’d never dare share with anyone else.

Wonwoo rests his hand above the one Jeonghan has on his cheek. He meets the older’s comforting gaze.

“And I keep on saying that I’m fine.” Wonwoo’s voice is soft as he finally admits the truth he’d never even think of relaying to another soul, “But I’m the furthest thing from it. And… and Mingyu never notices.” His voice tightens, “I’m not so good an actor that it’s impossible to tell. But I’d read comments online wishing death on Mingyu’s secret lover or hear outdated facts about me from Mingyu or—or never even hearing a “How was your day?” from him a-and…”

A warm tear rolls down Wonwoo’s cheek, intercepted by Jeonghan’s slender finger under Wonwoo’s pushing it away.

“It just hurts, Hannie-hyung.” Wonwoo finally allows his pain to come to the surface and mar his sharp features, “It hurts. And it’s heavy. And it all feels so unnecessary, but I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“Wonu…”

Jeonghan’s voice meets him like a drop of colorant in a glass of water. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but it spreads comfort through his being.

Wonwoo’s tears are brushed off by Jeonghan’s gentle touch. His sobs are muffled by Jeonghan’s chest. His hands are held by the other, and his forehead is kissed by his gentle mouth. As if saying You’re not alone, You’ll be ok, and I am with you. I will be with you, I promise.

When the photographer finally calms down, it’s just short of midnight, and Jeonghan crosses his arms as he stands obstinate in front of his door.

“Hyung—“

“Wonu, it’s late.” There’s an edge to his voice, but it comes with no malice. Jeonghan lets out a breath and touches Wonwoo’s arm softly, “You can stay the night. I have a guest room.”

Wonwoo creases his brows, “A-are you sure? I don’t want—“

“You’re never a burden, ok?” Jeonghan tiptoes to make up for the height difference and ruffles Wonwoo’s hair, “Stay the night.”

Wonwoo nods gratefully, causing a warm smile to grace his hyung’s face.

And perhaps, just perhaps, Wonwoo doesn’t fail to notice the rosy tint of Jeonghan’s soft-looking lips.

The photographer goes home with a souvenir the next day, Jeonghan insisted—a bottle of his cologne. Wonwoo’s been wearing it ever since.

“I…” Wonwoo’s voice cracks, “I can’t do it, hyung.”

The man speaks as soon as the line connects. Bless Yoon Jeonghan for answering such a rushed call.

“—What?”

The mere timbre of the older’s voice calms Wonwoo down. But the momentary calm does nothing from stopping the words from tumbling out.

“I can’t marry Mingyu, Jeonghan-hyung. I ran away from the venue.” Wonwoo buries his head in his free hand, “I can’t…” He has to gulp down the lump forming in his diaphragm.

“W-Wonu…what?”

“I thought—I thought I could. I thought I wanted to.” Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath and he leans back to the wooden bench. “But then it seemed so final and the vows—“ Wonwoo shakes his head as he laments over the mocking memory. The words written on the clean paper had laughed at him, calling him a liar as he read them. They’re getting married because they love each other his ass. “It… it isn’t us. Not anymore.”

“—“

The other line goes silent.

Wonwoo fixes his posture, filling himself with faux decisiveness. He closes his eyes, grateful that he sounds firmer than he feels, “I can’t spend the rest of my life with him. Not like this.”

“…Wonwoo.” There’s a tinge of hurt in Jeonghan’s voice. He chokes out the words, “Wonu-yah, you love him.”

“I love you.”

“—“

Wonwoo’s phone is so close to his ear he can hear Jeonghan’s breath catch in his throat.

Trust him, no one is as surprised as Wonwoo at the words. And yet he feels none of the looming guilt brought by saying those three words to Mingyu. His heart feels light, and his consciousness lighter still.

He knows, in his very soul, that he means the three words.

“…What do I do, Hannie-hyung?”

Wonwoo doesn’t mean about his feelings for the older. Jeonghan knows that too. He gulps down hard as he hears Wonwoo’s question.

Right now, his dongsaeng needs the older to tell him how the hell he’s going to tell his first love, who he’s been dating for more than half a decade, that they can’t get married. Not if they want to be happy.

Wonwoo genuinely doesn’t know what to do. And that’s why…

“I’m sorry, Wonu-yah, but you have to go back.”

“Hyung, I can’t get mar—“

“Not to do that.”

The calm of the older’s voice cuts through the panic in Wonwoo’s. If the photographer weren’t under such distress, he’d admire how perfect the other juxtaposed his current state of being. After all, how was Jeonghan so calm?

The older continues, “To talk about it. You two… you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need the closure.”

“…”

“How long have you two known each other? For the better part of your life that’s for sure.” A sigh. “You can’t run away from someone who you’ve been with for… geez. 20 years now?”

“17.”

“17 years…” Jeonghan gives a little snort.

Wonwoo looks to the side, spotting a couple sharing an ice cream cone outside a café. It pulls on his heartstrings. 

“—Wonu.” Wonwoo hums in acknowledgment for Jeonghan’s voice, “…Do you still love him?”

“…I don’t know.”

It’s the truth. Wonwoo has been so intertwined with Mingyu that he’s not sure who he’ll be without him. But that in itself is an issue, isn’t it? He’s sure that… in some way or shape or form, he loves Kim Mingyu.

He’s just not so sure he’s in love with him anymore.

But he can’t marry Mingyu. He can’t. He’s not going to resign himself to an empty fate and trap them both in another box of in-betweens. He’s sick of waiting for Mingyu—it doesn’t matter if his title is boyfriend or husband. He can’t have that future.

“Talk to him.” Jeonghan’s clear voice cuts through Wonwoo’s turmoil. “You both deserve that. Figure things out together. That’s something only the two of you can do.”

“Alright. Thanks, Hannie-hyung.”

Wonwoo grips the phone just a bit tighter. He misses the older. But it’s enough. Hearing his voice is enough. Finally resolving to talk with (not to, thank god) Mingyu is enough.

“And I…” Wonwoo’s attention is back to the phone. Jeonghan hesitates for a moment. “I love you too, Wonwoo. L-let’s,” He clears his throat, “Let’s talk about it later too, ‘kay? If you’re up for it.”

A genuine, uncontrollable smile spreads across Wonwoo’s lips. “Of course, hyung.” 

“Bye.”

“Bye,” Wonwoo hangs up, staring at Jeonghan’s contact photo on his screen for just a bit. Then he lets out a sigh as he stands.

Well then.

Time to kill another cat, thinks Wonwoo as jogs back to where he came from.

iv.

The crunching of grass under Wonwoo’s soles alert Mingyu of his presence before the older can make it known. Not that it makes a difference, anyway.

Mingyu looks back at Wonwoo from where he’s hunched on a clothed seat. His eyes lack surprise—lack everything, really.

Glad to know Wonwoo isn’t the only numb one from this experience.

“Hey,” says the older first.

“Hey.”

A beat.

Wonwoo sighs, then looks down as he approaches where Mingyu’s seated. The younger stands so that they can talk face to face.

They meet across each other on the aisle, tired eyes meeting a pair rimmed with dried tears.

There’s silence for a bit, then…

“I’m sorry,” finally says Wonwoo. He means it, he is. “I’m sorry, Mingyu.”

“…”

Wonwoo ignores the wobbling of his lips.

“I gave you everything. I swear I gave you everything. I put up with everything, all for you. I did it happily.” Wonwoo makes no move to conceal the hurt in his eyes. “It wasn’t hard, I told myself, not for me. Not if it was for you.” A hard gulp, “I convinced myself that we were ok. And that we were happy and still in love.”

Mingyu makes no move to refute anything. He doesn’t lean forward to wipe away the stray tear that escapes Wonwoo’s face.

“I,” Wonwoo bits his lips as his voice cracks. He looks at his fiancé head-on as he begins his long list of apologies, “I’m sorry I got tired. I’m sorry I went astray. I’m sorry I got lonely. I couldn’t… I couldn’t find you then. I’m sorry I clung on when it was clear I wasn’t supposed to anymore. I’m sorry I kept on expecting something. I’m sorry that I hurt you.” 

Mingyu lowers his gaze.

“It was…” Wonwoo stops a sob from escaping his lips by gulping it down. “It was fine that we couldn’t hold hands in public. It was fine we knew each other less and less. It was… it was fine we couldn’t make new inside jokes. Or that we couldn’t go to our favorite spots without planning a month ahead. Or that we’d cancel plans because of runway shows or shoots.”

“Hyung—“

Wonwoo pays no heed to the voice, “It was fine. It had to be. I told that to myself over and over and over until—“

The older shakes his head whilst closing his eyes. When he opens them, he stares at Mingyu helplessly.

“Gyu…” Wonwoo sucks in a breath. When he speaks again, his voice cracks, “Not even a marriage can save this. Us.”

The last word feels foreign on Wonwoo’s tongue. 

Mingyu freezes.

But he doesn’t open his mouth. So Wonwoo continues, “For the longest time, I dedicated myself to bring back how things used to be. When we would only ever have each other on our minds and even our dreams would be second to our love.”

“…Wonwoo.“

“Loving each other used to be so easy before.” Wonwoo shakes his head softly as he recounts the memories. “We could spend hours at a time doing nothing and everything. We could be watching the most boring movie. but we’d be fine if we had each other. We could talk hours on end about each other’s likes and dislikes.”

Wonwoo pauses.

He looks squarely at Mingyu.

“That’s not us, Mingyu.” Wonwoo’s eyes are soft, but his voice holds an edge of finality, “It hasn’t been in a long time. Somewhere between the dream-chasing and runway stages, the collapsing at home and the false “We’re fine”s, we lost touch. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you?”

Mingyu doesn’t meet Wonwoo’s eyes.

“We’re good at pretending. But…”

Wonwoo looks down as the memories flash in his head. Of acting the happy couple for their friends even if they’d seen each other thrice that week. Of concealing surprise when he’d hear a new fact about Mingyu from a shared acquaintance. Of getting so excited at the doorbell ringing, only to be met with a Mingyu so out of commission the most he could muster was an "I'll tell you about my night in the morning."

“It was…” The older’s voice cracks as he averts his glimmering eyes. “It was so lonely, Mingyu. So I’m sorry if I got tired. Really, I am.” A rock lodges itself in Wonwoo’s throat, “More than anyone, more than anything, I wanted us to grow together and be together. Please trust me on that fact.”

Mingyu lets out a shaky breath at his side at the other’s pleading tone.

“But right now, it’s just you and your boyfriend. No Mingyu and Wonwoo. No us. Not anymore.” Wonwoo tries to ignore the faint ache in his chest. The resignation is a sack of coal in his chest. “Don’t we both deserve better?”

Finally, Mingyu turns his head to meet Wonwoo’s glistening irises of midnight. His hoarse voice makes itself known as desperation springs from his throat.

“We… we didn’t fight.”

Tiredly, “We didn’t care enough for it.”

“We still go on dates.”

“If you can call them that. Even then, it was only ever for the sake of it.”

“You know me better than anyone else.”

“I don’t know what you pack when you go abroad. You don’t know what I do on my days off.”

“We’ve loved each other for so long.”

“Which is why this is so hard.”

“You said you were ok.”

“…I thought I was.”

Mingyu averts his gaze before he speaks again.

“Is...” A gulp, “Is there someone else?”

Wonwoo flinches.

“Mingyu…”

He can’t bring himself to meet the younger’s gaze.

“Mingyu, I—“

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo’s head snaps up when he hears the words. Mingyu’s eyes meet his without hesitation. There’s guilt, but the pupils are sincere. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there when you needed someone to hold. When you needed someone to protect you and when you needed someone to tell you that everything would be ok.”

This time, it’s from Mingyu’s eye that a tear falls.

He licks his lips as he lowers his head, voice cracking, “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I couldn’t comfort you even if I was the one who brought you pain, I—“ He bites his lip as he looks at Wonwoo straight in the eye, “I’m sorry, Wonwoo-hyung.”

Wonwoo doesn’t stop the streaks of warmth that flow atop his cheeks.

“I’m sorry you were so lonely. I’m sorry I left you behind. I’m sorry I didn’t love you when I promised I would. I’m sorry I didn’t try for us.”

Mingyu uses the back of his hand to wipe away the small streams forming on his cheeks. Though to no avail because they’re soon replaced with new tears.

“But I—“ The model looks at Wonwoo with determination and regret, “I wanted to be there when you were hurting. I wish you told me that we weren’t ok. That you needed me to be there.” An empty chuckle. “But well.” 

A shaky breath.

“I could’ve done more. I should’ve done more. You deserved better. I’m sorry I didn’t fulfill that.” Mingyu bites his lip. "I gave up. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. Maybe…” Mingyu looks to the side with an unbelievable amount of sorrow, “Maybe you were right and I realized it subconsciously. That we weren’t meant to be. Not anymore, at least.”

Mingyu covers the bottom half of his face with a hand, muffling his sobs.

“I’m sorry you had to go to someone else because of what I kept doing to you. I’m so sorry, Wonwoo-hyung.”

Wonwoo looks to the side with a pained expression, eyes swollen from the river they've cried. But he inhales deeply as he looks once more to the man he once loved with all his being.

“…We tried, didn’t we?”

Wonwoo’s voice cuts through their despair in an attempt to grant them this one grace.

“We fought, didn’t we? We…” A shaky exhale, “It might not have lasted a lifetime, but we loved, didn’t we?”

Eyes with just as much sorrow as Wonwoo’s, Mingyu nods.

He removes the hand on his mouth with a deep breath, spine straightening as he rubs stray tears away.

He doesn’t show hesitation as he turns and peers into the older’s eyes once more.

“I want to say thank you, hyung.” Mingyu lifts his chin up despite his flushed features, “Thank you for the memories. I’m happy about what we’ve experienced. I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“…You deserve that too. You deserve to be happy too, Mingyu.”

A pained smile.

Wonwoo looks at Mingyu with a tight expression. But there’s only soft genuineness in his eyes. Quietly, “Thank you.”

A small smile, “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo’s voice breaks, and his shoulders shake ever so slightly as the weight is lifted off his chest. His sobs come out silent and muffled.

He lets out a long, shaky breath as a warm hand cradles the right side of his neck. He closes his eyes as a soft, warm breath blows on his chestnut crown.

“Oh, god.” is what Mingyu says silently as he embraces Wonwoo.

He looks at the older. Wonwoo closes his eyes to gather his bearings before he returns the gaze.

“I want you to know that…” Mingyu’s fingers gently rub Wonwoo’s neck to soothe him, “I forgive you.”

“I forgive you too.” is Wonwoo’s reply, void of hesitance or doubt.

Finally, he resigns and leans onto Mingyu’s right shoulder, crying into the fabric of his polo. A warm hand caresses the back of his head as he finally frees himself from the guilt. The sadness. The loneliness and the despair.

Mingyu pulls his face back and gazes at the older with still moist eyes.

The heartbroken man leans in to land a final, tender kiss on Wonwoo’s cheek. He pulls Wonwoo close and lets their foreheads touch.

“I need to—“ a sob racks out of Mingyu’s throat before he finishes the sentence. Wonwoo’s pale hands straddle the younger’s face so he can deftly wipe off Mingyu’s tears.

His face contorts with pain as he gazes down on Wonwoo through wet lashes.

“Take care of yourself, Wonwoo-hyung.”

He lets out a broken breath through tear-stained lips as he repeats the words. 

“Take care of yourself, yeah? Be happy.”

Wonwoo moves his head to bury his face into Mingyu’s shoulder once more. He hugs Mingyu tightly as the younger returns the embrace.

They stay there for a bit. Basking in each other before they let go.

Wonwoo pulls away first.

Mingyu looks at him, then takes a step back. 

Subconsciously, their hands stay intertwined even as the space between them grows and grows with every step of Mingyu’s. Eventually, both loosen their fingers, and the interlocked limbs fall.

Mingyu covers his waterworks as he turns to leave the field.

The golden grass crunches under his feet as Wonwoo watches him leave with oscillate eyes, flashing with a sea of emotions.

Relief is what finally settles in them.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are forgiven.

Mingyu and Wonwoo are free.

Mingyu and Wonwoo leave the rest to fate.

Wonwoo lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he hugs himself. Mingyu’s figure is as tall as one of the chairs set up, and the older’s legs make no move to chase after the shrinking shadow.

Wonwoo allows himself to smile.

It’s crooked, and it’s tense, and if someone were to photograph him, it would not turn out well. But it’s a bona fide smile. With happiness and relief and sincerity.

Wonwoo’s heart has freed and has been freed. It’s forgiven and has been forgiven.

His arms drop from his sides. He crouches to get his camera still perched on a clothed seat, and savors in the sharp crackling of the grass under him.

Like Mingyu, Wonwoo leaves the golden field with a head held up and legs propelling him forward. With the renewed hope and liberty to love and be loved.

Just before he finally exits the aisle, the marker of the setup venue, he pauses. Wonwoo looks down at his hand and carefully lifts his ring finger up.

He slides the cool silver off and places it gently on a chair.

Then Wonwoo finally walks off away from the sunset. After all, his destination is not an ending.

Handa na akong muling sumugal (I’m ready to gamble once more)
Handa na akong muling magmahal (I’m ready to love once more)
Handa na akong lumabas sa aking bangka (I’m ready to leave from my boat)
Kahit ilang beses na akong nagtangka at lumubog (Despite the number of times I’ve fallen and sunk)
At nalunod sa kasinungalingan na ang pag-asa (And drowned in the lie that hope)
Ay isang pantasya na binubulag ako sa katotohanan (Is but a fantasy that blinded me from the truth)
Alam kong ang katotohanang andito ka ngayon (I know that the truth is that you are here now)
Sa aking harapan ay hindi ko kagagawan (In front of me, and this is not a figment of my imagination)
Pero sa wakas nahanap din kita (At the end, I also found you)
Dahil, ngayon handa na ako (Because now I am ready)
At ang tanging panalangin na isinisigaw ko sa hangin ay sana ikaw rin (And the only prayer I’m screaming into the wind is that I hope you are too)
Handa ka na ba? (Are you ready?)

— Handa Awit, Moira Dela Torre