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It was 2 in the morning when Sicheng decided he’s not going to get any sleep tonight.
It was also 2 in the morning when his stomach decided to rumble, eliciting a slightly angry groan. He hates being hungry at this time because 1) he certainly can not cook at this hour without making noises that would wake up the whole neighborhood, and 2) he has a very limited option on food delivery.
Sicheng sighs. McDonald’s it is. For the n-th time this month, since he stopped counting last week. Or was it the week before? He needs to sleep better, because this sleep deprivation slowly kills his memory. He does not remember things right anymore. (Also, maybe, he needs to stop coming to McDonald’s every time he can’t sleep.)
He grabs his phone from the desk, pulls over a black hoodie two sizes too big, looking at his car keys before deciding to leave them on the desk. Maybe a night walk would tire him out, and by the time he reaches home he’ll be tired enough to sleep. The coldness of night would probably help too, but either way he needs his food first.
It was a twenty minutes walk, a slightly longer time needed than his usual. Sicheng unplugs his earphones, tuck them in his hoodie pocket, and walks into the restaurant. As with other 24/7 diners, this one has a few customers enjoying their wee hours with the heavenly food (Mark calls them that. Sicheng doesn’t entirely agree, but he nodded to Mark anyway).
He slid his tray from the counter and nodded a thank you to the cashier, slowly scanning the space to see if there was a corner for him to wallow in his alone time. His usual spot is occupied by someone facing the window, and as much as he wants to get the man away, he can’t, because the spot was not his-it doesn’t have a Dong Sicheng nameplate on it.
Sicheng sighs (again), deciding to sit on the table next to his usual spot. He can pick any table he wants, but he likes the view from that particular side of the building, and tonight is no exception. He set his tray down, biting into his burger, eyes never leaving the city lights from across. Pretty , he thinks. There are many pretty things you can only see at night, things you can appreciate at this time of the day, when the hustle from the city calms down and you can stare into space for god knows how long.
The cityscape was not the only pretty thing Sicheng saw that night, because when he tilted his head to the side, towards the man who occupied his usual seat, he thought he lost his ability to breathe. Fair skin, dark eyes, dark hair that falls over his eyes. Cat whiskers when he scrunches his nose while eating. And oh, the cherry on top—a set of deep dimples on both sides of his cheeks. He looks like an angel, and he probably is, one that Sicheng is scared to get close to. He watched as the man finished his meal, cleaned everything up, and left. He wonders whether he’ll see the dimple boy again.
(Sicheng definitely had a good sleep when he got home after.)
"Hi," a soft voice greeted Sicheng. He hastily wipes his mouth from any leftover McNuggets sauce, because, heavens heard his prayers, it's the dimple boy.
The reason he visits McDonald's at ungodly hours, the source of his fantasy these days, standing right in front of him, greeting him.
Sicheng internally slaps himself to make sure that he isn't dreaming right now.
"Uh, hi?" he squeaks back, again slapping himself inside because, heck, this is embarrassing. Get yourself together , he braces.
"I was wondering if we can, you know, be friends. I mean, we both do come around this hour almost regularly, and not many people do that, but, uh, I sound creepy now don't I–," the boy trails off, and Sicheng, a man of opportunity, catches the ball perfectly.
"Sure," he tried to sound confident. "Would be nice if i had someone to talk to at 2 am in McDonald's, you know? To keep me awake and things," his hand moves too much. He's nervous. The dimple boy does not know that.
A smile breaks over the other boy's face, showing a deep set of dimples. Sicheng feels his knees weaken–it's an exaggeration, of course. He's fully seated but still he feels like his inside is slowly turning into jelly. All because of a smile followed by a deep baritone voice.
"Nice," the boy grins. "I'm Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun."
"Jaehyun," Sicheng repeats, rolling the name off his tongue, tasting it. "Dong Sicheng," he replies. "Pleasure to meet you, Jaehyun."
"Nice to finally know you, Sicheng."
Sicheng thinks even Jaehyun can hear how loud his heart beats in that moment.
"Just go."
Jaehyun frowns, but makes no comment to answer the cold tone Sicheng used on him. He slides his keys from the tabletop along with his phone and wallet, looks at Sicheng one last time before stepping out of their apartment.
As soon as the door closes, Sicheng lets out a big sigh, trying to control his anger now that the object of anger is out of his sight. He's always been the hot-tempered one between them, and there are days when Jaehyun can calm him down before he gets angry, and there are these kinds of days–where Jaehyun needs to be kicked out to calm him down. The ending is always the same though, they come home to each other, hug each other out, apologize, sometimes laugh the matter off together. They always come home, no matter what happens.
Sicheng walks back to their room, passing their photo wall, the space that Ten and Taeyong made for them, saying they have too many pictures to be just kept. It has lots of photos pasted on it, also some souvenirs from their dates, movie tickets, keychains, and small toys. It has become a wall that always reminds Sicheng and Jaehyun how they love each other, how they want to love each other.
He picks one photo from the wall—the one with him, Jaehyun, Ten, and Taeyong laughing at their seats. It was at their favorite McDonald's, right after a movie date with the other pair.
After a double movie date with Ten and Taeyong, when they asked what he wanted to have after the movie, Sicheng had answered "a happy meal" without the slightest bit of hesitation. The other pair looked at Jaehyun, who shrugged and laughed simultaneously, saying "Can't stop him, that's all he talked about since last week. Said he wants to collect the toys, but we haven't got the time to go here." They went anyway, unable to fight Jaehyun's innocent dimpled smile and Sicheng's pout.
"I feel like a dad with three kids here," Taeyong said.
"But you are my daddy," Ten replied, earning a smack from Taeyong.
"Please keep it PG-13, we have a baby here," Sicheng said in a commanding tone, but laughed anyway.
"You. You're the baby here," Taeyong points at him. "Look at you asking for a happy meal. Baby."
"Happy meal is not age restricted, hyung," Sicheng pouts. "You still collect Spongebob's figures. You can't judge me."
"Okay, okay. Fair enough. One happy meal for Sicheng, mine, and you two?" Taeyong turns back to Ten and Jaehyun, breaking their conversation about the latest basketball match.
( When asked what his favorite place to eat with Jaehyun was, Sicheng had only one answer: McDonald's.
"It wasn't about the food," he says every time. "It was where we met, how the midnight meetings turned into something...exciting."
"I don't want to imagine what the word 'exciting' means," his upperclassmen Kun replied, trying to sound disgusted but failed to hide his adoration towards the younger. "But I'm glad it worked out well between you two."
"Me too, ge." )
Sicheng puts the photo back on the wall. His hand traces a few more photos before landing on the polaroid film pasted on the center of the wall. Their first picture together, taken by Ten on the day Jaehyun finally asked him out.
( “I put it in the center because this was the one that started it all,” Taeyong said. “Think of it as the heart of your relationship.” )
A faint smile breaks across his face, the wall serving its purpose as Taeyong and Ten intended. Now, to wait for Jaehyun to come home, and they’ll talk it out like they always do, maybe over dinner and glasses of wine. Or maybe they can go to their favorite McDonald’s and laugh over McFlurries and nuggets.
Sicheng was walking back to the living room when his phone rang. He frowns when he sees the caller number, but picks it up anyway.
What he heard was something that he never even thought of hearing. Sicheng ends the call with a nod. He swipes the counter for his keys, knocking over the unfinished glass of juice.
He does not care. Sicheng only cares for one thing right now. Jaehyun .
( “Hello, is this Mr. Dong Sicheng?” a foreign voice speaks, and Sicheng frowns. He isn’t expecting any delivery at the moment. Who could this be?
“It’s the General Hospital,” the voice says again. Why would a hospital call Sicheng at this time of day? Is there something wrong?
“You’re listed as Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s emergency contact, sir, i’m sorry to inform you-” What happened to Jaehyun?
“He was in a crash at the Great Intersection earlier,” No, no, no.
“We tried, but he didn’t make it,” No. Must be the wrong Jung Jaehyun. His Jung Jaehyun is on his way home, preparing for a peace offering—
“We’re really sorry, sir.” )
Sicheng feels like an empty cup, hollow, unfilled. He feels like his heart was torn and it now has a very big hole, wounded, and he does not know how long this can be left unattended. He hasn’t slept for days, tending Jaehyun’s funeral and all. Their friends have come and gone, Sicheng does not keep track of who’s who anymore. He’s tired of nodding and thanking everyone, but he does all that anyway. For Jaehyun.
"I think he meant to send this to you," Johnny says, handing Jaehyun's phone to Sicheng. It was found under the seat, intact from the impact.
Why can't Jaehyun be the one who's intact? Sicheng doesn't know. Maybe the universe doesn't either.
Sicheng unlocks the phone, finding an unfinished text addressed to him.
"Hey," the partial text said. "I'm sorry, I should've listened. I'm on my way home with your favorite happy meal, let's try and talk again, I'll listen, okay? I love y—" and it stops. Together with Jaehyun's heartbeat, which Sicheng doesn't get to listen to every night anymore, which Sicheng cannot mock for beating so fast every time they are together anymore, which made Jaehyun alive.
Jaehyun's last words to him were "I'm sorry" and "I love you."
Sicheng's last words to Jaehyun was a hostile "just go."
And that made him break.
Dong Sicheng, known to be a hot-tempered man but never a shed of tears, now breaks down as if every piece of himself tears, every brick of the dam he built knocked down by the overwhelming wave of emotion.
"I'm sorry," he says in between tears. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, Jaehyun. Please come home."
"I'm sorry, I should've listened more."
"I shouldn't get mad at you like that."
"I don't want my happy meal with toys, Jaehyun. I want you."
Sorry is not the magic word.
Sorry does not bring Jaehyun back to Sicheng.
The word "sorry" is meaningless when the person that needs to hear it is gone.
Jaehyun had just locked his phone when his order number was called. He smiled at the waitress, walked to the parking lot, got inside his car, pondering Doyoung’s words to him earlier.
“Apologize,” Doyoung said. “ Then you talk it out. That’s the problem with you and Sicheng-his fuse lights up faster sometimes, and you, most of the time you’re his pacifier, but on the days you are not, it’s bad. Like this one. ”
“ You know he’ll apologize to you too, Jaehyun. Ironically that’s what we like about you guys, you recognize your wrongdoings and make up at the end of the day. Really, your problem is just sometimes your emotions get the better of you.”
Jaehyun knows Doyoung is right (he almost always is). And that’s what brought him to the McDonald’s they frequent, bought Sicheng’s favorite happy meal set, and to complete his peace offerings, a bouquet of red roses.
Jaehyun was on his way home, passing through countless cars on the road. He doesn’t really care anymore, his mind set on getting home and seeing Sicheng.
His Sicheng, and he won’t let a fight break them up. Nope.
Thinking that he should notify Sicheng that Jaehyun is not staying away today, that he’s on his way home, that he has Sicheng’s favorite things with him, that he’d listen better, that they’ll find a way to come to an agreement, he commanded his phone to type out his message to Sicheng.
"Hey.”
“I'm sorry, I should've listened. I'm on my way home with your favorite happy meal, let's try and talk again, I'll listen, okay?”
Jaehyun paused, his right foot hitting the brake as the light turned red.
There’s something, he did not know what, that told him to type out the three words himself. So Jaehyun did. It’s a red light anyway, right?
“I love y-”
Jaehyun’s foot was released from the brake.
He didn’t see the truck coming his way.
He never finished typing the three words he needed to say to Sicheng.
Sicheng, he thinks as his body was thrown over by the impact. His hand flailed, searching for his phone, to finish what he meant to say.
His ears buzzed, the piercing sound trying to make its way to his eardrums. He did not care. Sicheng , his brain screamed. Sicheng, I'm so, so, sorry.
Dong Sicheng, he called out silently. Sicheng is not there. Many people are there, sounds and voices mixing on top of each other, but Jaehyun didn't hear anything.
Jaehyun felt his breathing slowing, his vision blurring.
Dong Sicheng, he called once again. I’m sorry. Breathing hurts very much now.
I’m sorry for not listening better. He’s slipping. He counted five.
I’m sorry for not being able to tell you how grateful I am to have been yours today. Four.
You are the best partner I could ever ask for. I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it home. Three.
Please do not blame yourself for this. We never knew that it’d end like this. Two.
Take care, love. One.
I love you.
Right before he closed his eyes and everything blacks out, Jaehyun’s vision cleared, taking in everything in a split second, but nothing registered right except the fact that Sicheng was not there.
A flat, piercing sound. The paramedics got here too late, anyway.
His chest stopped moving, and with the last blinding light, Jaehyun closed his eyes fully.
They never opened again.
Jaehyun never saw Sicheng again.