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Night wraps itself around the city. The moon hangs low and the sky isn’t completely taken over by clouds yet, though drizzles of raindrops begin staining the pavement they walk upon. The atmosphere that surrounds them is already so heavy, the rain doesn’t help.
They could have driven… should have. But Wonwoo insisted they walk. He wants to prolong the time that he wasn’t granted… that they weren’t granted.
Shoulders brush under the simple, black umbrella that Mingyu holds above them while breath turns to fog and within silent minutes they reach Wonwoo’s destination -- an upscale, lavish restaurant guised from the outside in a simple, gray, mosaic brick, whose color darkens with every raindrop.
They’re already here.
Wonwoo waits. For what, he doesn’t really know. But he does anyway… and Mingyu does the same, beside him as he always is.
Seconds turn to minutes. Light drizzles of rain become heavier as if animating the feelings that surround them. His chest tightens.
One word. It shouldn’t be so hard to say. Goodbye shouldn’t be so hard to say.
So he clears his throat.
“I… should…” but words falter.
So he begins to move away instead. If words failed him, maybe his legs wouldn’t.
A larger hand wraps lightly around Wonwoo’s wrist and at the small touch he stops in his tracks.
“If I asked you to stay… to not go, would you?” It was whispered, Mingyu’s rasped words coarse like gravel and it twisted Wonwoo’s insides, stung like granulated sand rubbed against a raw wound.
Wonwoo looks down to where they touch… where he can only feel warmth while the rest of his body remains cold, empty.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Wonwoo was supposed to hate him. Despise him. He had for the past five years when Mingyu was first hired by his father to follow him around, drive him where he needed to be, babysit his activities, be the protective shadow he never wanted. He was supposed to hate him…
… how did this become love?
Wonwoo gently lifts his free hand, fingers lightly landing on Mingyu’s own that still encompasses one of his wrists.
I would stay.
Yet contrasting words escape him. They always do when it comes to Mingyu.
“If I asked you to let me go...” Wonwoo swallows, his breath a matching whisper, “...would you?”
Somehow the space between them lessens, the cold of the weather and rain beyond the shelter of the dark colored umbrella forgotten as a thrum of electricity seems to spark between their proximity and mingled breaths. Warm. Heart-racing. The static heavy tension is familiar… customary between them; a weighted longing even when they were right in front of each other, even when their bodies entwined, the closeness never felt like enough.
Wonwoo’s breath silently hitches while the grip around his wrist tightens; the same grip he felt years ago when he was first introduced to Mingyu and begrudgingly shook the taller man’s hand with a little more force than necessary, which drew a questioning look from the other man that was only returned with a petulant glare on Wonwoo’s end; the same grip that fisted his pristine collared shirt during a heated argument that wasn’t new between the both of them which left a sneering Wonwoo backed against a wall, luxury branded shirt rumpled once a fuming Mingyu stalked away to gather his sense of calm once again; the same grip that would pull Wonwoo from the path of flying bullets that were aimed at him, the newly named chaebol heir of the renowned Jeon family, Mingyu saving his life on countless occasions, most times by a hair's breadth while other, rarer times, ended with the younger man unconscious in a hospital bed, Wonwoo waiting with unspoken anxiousness by his side over the course of days… and never the other way around…
… the same grip that felt like it was clutching tightly onto his heart and making every breath feel like a tremendous task.
Mingyu’s grip tightens… before he loosens it again, fingers slowly slipping free from around thin wrists and out from under Wonwoo’s light touch, sliding down like the beads of raindrops that patter against the window pane they stand beside.
And Wonwoo only silently watches, the ache in his chest never lessening, never leaving.
If I asked you to let me go...would you?
Of course he would. Self-less Mingyu who would let him go because he was asked to... because it was the appropriate thing to do… the acquiescence to his obligation of solely being nothing more than an employee of the Jeons… nothing more to Wonwoo than a body to keep the only Jeon heir safe.
“Morality of obligation over the selfishness of happiness, right?” Mingyu’s poignant words cause a lump in the back of his throat. Duty before want. They were once Wonwoo’s words.
Without an answer, Wonwoo’s eyes stay lowered and he doesn’t need to look up to know Mingyu’s were also focused on their hands that gently fell apart… that fell further from each other’s hold. Though being polar opposites, they had somehow always attuned to the same details… eyes drawn to the same places… but never having the embolden courage to look up at each other, to lock eyes.
Even all those many nights ago, months prior, when Mingyu shoved Wonwoo up against the closed wooden door of the latter’s bedroom, their lips crashing together in the most wanton need for the very first and last time after a common, petty argument that finally snapped the ever-present tension between them, vaporizing whatever resistance and restraint they had built, they both kept their gazes anywhere from meeting each other’s darkened orbs.
Even when staggering bodies made their way to soft, welcoming sheets, clothes discarded and forgotten while heated bliss enveloped the room with every exhaled breath, Wonwoo kept his eyes shut, his other senses taking over instead while his body melted against every caress, every touch from the other man.
Even after that one fervent night, they never locked eyes.
“I can’t. I have the morality of obligation I’m bound to. I don’t have the luxury of choosing the selfishness of happiness.” Wonwoo had said those words over and over again, pushing the other man away, burying himself behind the shield of family obligation that he was expected to do.
Duty before want… the excuse he used to keep the solid line they redrew between them intact.
And even if they wanted to look at each other, they never did.
Stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking and missed gazes within seconds was all they had… was the small semblance of courage they entertained because if their eyes ever met, they would understand they both wanted something more, something much more than they were really allowed to…
... will we be able to face each other?
“You should go inside.” Voice soft, Mingyu steps back, handing the obsidian colored umbrella to Wonwoo, the rush of reality seeping back in with the cold space that the younger man created. “They’re waiting.”
They’re waiting … Wonwoo’s family... ready to commence the engagement set and planned long ago… another obligation for Wonwoo to fulfill, an obligation that has no room for Mingyu to be a part of… where the selfishness of happiness couldn’t dictate.
Yet… I would stay. If you asked me again, I would stay.
Mingyu lifts his hands to straighten the blazer Wonwoo dons, brushing a hand across material that was more expensive than all of the taller man’s belongings combined. Every stroke is done with the utmost care and Wonwoo leans into the touch unconsciously. His eyes drift across the signature, thrift store-bought leather jacket that the other man always wears, the playful words of “it’s vintage” adorned with a trademark smirk whenever the older man would make a remark about Mingyu’s choice of clothing, replaying in Wonwoo’s head.
A stream of moments with Mingyu seem to be flashing through his mind now as if his unconscious didn’t want to forget a single memory with the other man… late night fights, quiet drives with the windows down, a new song shared, first taste of cheap pizza, every smile, every small touch, every wanton kiss from that single night… and he should be focusing on that, but he can only focus on the damn, leather jacket.
It would have been easy… easy to reach out, take hold of the leather coat lapels and pull him in again, pull Mingyu close so Wonwoo could bask in the warmth the other man radiates one last time, to have Mingyu in his embrace one last time, to be embraced one last time.
Hands fall away once again… and he’s too late.
Mingyu steps out from under the dark colored umbrella, a small smile on lips. “Goodbye, Wonwoo.”
One word. It shouldn’t be so hard to say. Goodbye shouldn’t be so hard to say.
Wonwoo’s breath is caught and the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his chest drowns out the pour of the rain. His hands clutch the handle of the single, black umbrella until his knuckles are stark white. Stay.
But then again, it’s stifling under the limited boundaries of the obsidian shelter… the rain is undoubtedly more freeing.
Mingyu pockets his hands in that damn worn jacket before turning on his heel, shoulders hunched slightly under the showers from the sky as he moves further and further from Wonwoo.
The evening breeze brushes past and kisses his cheeks gently, yet it stings. Everything does.
Morality of obligation...
Wonwoo turns ever so slightly to peer through the large picture window of the acclaimed restaurant he was standing outside of, his eyes catching the small gathering inside that he was supposed to be a part of… his eyes catching sight of the one his family deemed he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.
His gaze lingers, connecting with hazel colored orbs. He feels nothing.
He wants to feel… wants to feel something, anything.
… over the selfishness of happiness…
Wonwoo glances back out to the fall of the rain while Mingyu’s drenched frame turns just at the right moment to peer back at him. Always in sync.
And then finally, Wonwoo lets his eyes meet Mingyu’s.
His gaze lingers, connecting with warm darkened orbs. And he feels everything .
… same gaze, yet the feelings are eminently different.
Wonwoo’s mind races and his heart matches pace.
And it was then he made his fateful decision…
The black colored umbrella falls from his hands, forgotten and stolen by the wind while Wonwoo runs towards the retreating back that he knew all too well.
… it was then he chose happiness over any obligation…
… because unlike Mingyu, who was self-less and was willing to let him go, Wonwoo wanted to be selfish and keep hold of the man that could set his whole world aflame, steal his breath away, and make him desire more than the controlled, prosaic life he led.
The distance between Mingyu and Wonwoo was never so quickly closed. Arms wrapped themselves around the taller man’s frame, halting Mingyu’s steps.
Within seconds, Wonwoo was equally as soaked as the man whose back he was attached to, rivulets of rain cascading down exposed skin, falling from the tips of his fingers only to mingle with the dampness on a larger hand that found its place atop Wonwoo’s own.
He rested his forehead between Mingyu’s shoulder blades, eyes slipping shut as he caught his breath.
“If I asked you to let me go...” Mingyu’s voice that speaks replicated words, resonates through Wonwoo’s entire being, “...would you?”
And just as Mingyu once did, Wonwoo’s grip tightens… but it never loosened, never fell apart.
I’m not like you… I want to be selfish...
“No,” he says quietly, words mumbled against the leather jacket he presses his cheek to now. “I won’t let go.”
“Good.” With the single spoken word, Mingyu breaks free from Wonwoo’s hold to turn around. A hand finds its place around the older man’s waist, pulling Wonwoo in closer until there wasn’t a centimeter of space left between them.
A thumb and forefinger gently grasps Wonwoo’s chin lifting it so he could meet coffee colored orbs he felt he could drown in. Eyes lock and his heart doesn’t slow.
“I love you, Jeon Wonwoo.”
And as he had wanted to do prior, Wonwoo grips the lapels of the other man’s battered jacket, pulling him down ever so slightly to meet waiting lips.
I love you too.
Out from under the cover of the forgotten black umbrella, standing free in the showers of the pouring rain, a small smile sprouts to life on Wonwoo’s lips that is mirrored upon Mingyu’s pair before the younger man leans in once again, capturing another kiss from the other man.
Rain continues to fall, washing away remnants of an adverse and sullen past, giving them a clean slate.
A new beginning.
Night wraps itself around the city. The moon hangs low and the sky is almost completely taken over by clouds, raindrops having stained the pavement thoroughly. But it isn’t completely hidden yet and the glistening reflection of the moon atop the shining pavement creates an illusion…
… two moons…
… two choices. Duty or want.
And he chose the selfishness of happiness.