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Jay feels his heart failing him again, waves of tears flooding into his eyes where he stands at the kitchen island, alone.
To put it simply, Jay misses Heeseung.
Though, there was nothing simple about it. Some days it would hit him pathetically, painting him a fool in front of anyone and everyone; a fully grown man sniffling to himself in the company elevator under his mask and glasses, wishing to turn into dust, into nothing just to escape his own heart. It had always been far too full of love, the lingering tightness in his chest a constant reminder.
From an outside perspective, it probably didn’t make sense why Jay was still reeling and if he's being honest, he couldn’t explain it himself either. Heeseung had called them off four months ago, and it wasn’t like they were on bad terms or something easy to be upset about - because they definitely weren’t. They had already managed through the awkward stages of it, determined to keep their closeness as much as possible without falling back into the deep end of it. Jay has since come to know a different kind of warmth from Heeseung, and he would lean into it embarrassingly often. Something in it would calm the storm that still lingered in his head.
Though things were quickly back to normal, something stuck with Jay. A pull somewhere inside of him that he couldn't quite pin the location of.
A dull ache. Coming and going. An indistinguishable pattern.
It would present itself mostly when Jay was in the lowest of it. He would be suddenly overcome with an all-encompassing feeling of dread. A voice telling him that he had been left behind, like he was still that version of his younger self, existing outside his current body. He’d watch everyone moving on without him. Living without him.
Sometimes, in that surreal plane of existence, he would find a calm - the eye of the hurricane, he supposes - where he would sit and wait for Heeseung. It didn't make sense, but he was willingly grasping for anything to help soften him back into something resembling routine. A sense of normalcy beyond the heart-break of first love. There, he’d wait for the unmistakable warmth of being loved by someone like Heeseung to encapsulate his body and carry him away. He would live there forever if he could, in the daze of a non-existent realm where he was enough.
The typical motions of a break-up were all familiar feelings to Jay, as they are to anybody, just amplified by the feeling of being disposable. They would all eventually pass and one would move on. But here Jay was, wallowing months later in tearful bursts of insecure anxiety. A fountain of his remaining deplorable, unspoken love. The feelings had never come to him with the same ease that they have always seemed to grace Heeseung with.
Jay’s feelings had always been bigger than him.
That night had been replaying in his mind every day since, like his own brain won’t let him fully relax even if he wanted to. He couldn't help but pick apart each word, finding a sick indulgence in the uncomfortable fog that clouded his thoughts when he let his mind wander. Beating himself up with regret was always a common occurrence for Jay, just a little bit more so these days.
Where would they be if he had said more? What if he had been brave enough to keep fighting for what he wanted?
His life felt dramatically upended, its tide coming in and in and in without ever phasing back out. He so badly wanted the waves to pull him back, to embrace him and carry him back to the peaceful ebb and flow they had so forcefully taken him from, letting him drown over and over again.
While Jay was still coughing up water months later, Heeseung's tide seemed to continue as if nothing had ever changed. As if nothing had ever stopped moving for him.
Jay sometimes wonders if he ever really left that moment. He doesn't think so. His heart doesn’t feel quite his own yet, a part of it left tucked under Heeseung’s chin, a familiar warmth holding onto it for what Jay can only hope is Heeseung's forever.
***
Before it was said, it was felt.
He felt it in the way Heeseung still kissed him in front of everyone when he got home from his schedule that evening. A fleeting thing, but more than enough for Jay.
He felt it when he ducked out of his shared room with Jake and into Heeseung’s bed. The air felt more still than it usually does at that time of night. The quiet of the hallway rang in his ears.
He felt it in the way Heeseung touched him, still fucked him. Shy gasps of hesitant I love you ’s filling the damp air between them.
The way Heeseung had said it back. His eyes were full of something unfamiliar, sending a chill down Jay’s spine where he laid under him. Eager, willing, wanting.
It always worked. Jay thought they were happy like this. He was happy like this, but a pit in his gut would trigger a ringing in his head, reminding him that he may be selfish to think so.
***
The room was dark, Jay was straining his eyes to make out Heeseung’s silhouette where he stood beside the bed. He felt exposed and cold, despite the lack of light and how equally naked Heeseung was. His limbs were impossibly heavy where he laid, feeling barely alive but nearing the bliss of sleep. Heeseung’s comfort and warmth just minutes out of reach.
He leaned towards Jay, wiping a warm cloth over the younger’s stomach before his own, cleaning both of them up. A sick part of Jay wanted to sleep in it, in the evidence of them.
Jay hummed, the domesticity of it always made him feel heat in his lungs and a subtle nervousness creeping into his gut. Like it held an intimacy that no one but them could understand. They had been in this exact position many times before, but something in it always felt special. Jay felt sacred. He felt loved in this bed. He had always told everyone how lucky he was, like he had it all.
Then, Heeseung would find them clothes to sleep in, and he would kiss Jay once more - slow and languid - before they’d fall asleep, the sweetest kind of deep exhaustion swallowing them whole.
But this night was different. Jay felt it here too.
The way Heeseung paused, his breath shaking as he sighed. Jay could almost see the words he was holding back blocking his airway.
He wanted to ask, to pry him apart and pull his thoughts out of his mouth for him, but he waited. He let Heeseung come to him.
“Jay-ah,” He started, he was just barely illuminated from the moonlight seeping through the parted curtains. He was looking at his own hands, following them as they moved over Jay’s stomach, his voice a thick whisper. “I think we need to talk about us.”
Jay’s tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like Heeseung was shoving his fingers down his throat and digging for his heart. He was willing to let him take it if he wanted to.
“What about us?” Jay asked, silently convincing himself he couldn’t already feel it.
It was in the air before Heeseung even said it.
“I don’t think we can keep doing this.”
Jay stared at the shadow in front of him. He didn’t want to believe it was Heeseung speaking. Maybe that would make it easier.
This.
It fell loose out of Heeseung’s mouth like it was easy. Like they were easy.
Like Jay’s blood wasn’t on fire in his veins, a bitter taste of anger threatening it's way out of him.
He held it in, putting his focus on forcing his voice not to waver as he spoke.
“Okay.” Jay’s voice was uncomfortable in his own ears, his jaw clenching with the electricity burning through him. He felt hot. “Why?”
His words sounded full of resentment, like they were biting at Heeseung, daring him to poke the sleeping tiger in his chest, on the brink of release, defensive and ready to fight.
He sounded like he didn’t care. He didn’t want Heeseung to think he didn’t care.
“I think…” Heeseung trailed off, sitting down on the bed beside where Jay still laid, pulling the duvet over his lap. “I think we want different things from this. I’m sorry, I know I should have been more careful.”
Jay felt himself staring at Heeseung, boring a hole into the side of his head, looking for signs of life or proof that this wasn’t some sick joke.
Looking for signs of his Heeseung. Some version of him that loved him back.
Whatever had changed between them, Jay had no idea, his awareness growing as dark and clouded as the space they shared.
Jay sat up, leveling with Heeseung, trying to make anything make sense because what the fuck was going on?
“What do you want from this, hyung?” Jay’s voice was bordering on desperate and he hated it. It was embarrassing how much he was ready to give for Heeseung, what he would do to keep him as close as he had him. He wanted to fight - couples fight like this right? It was just finally their turn.
Then, a familiar, undeniable truth sneaks into Jay’s brain, a new wave of self pity burning a hole in his heart.
Park Jongseong has never known how to love quietly.
His brain would flip a switch and turn on Loving Lee Heeseung Mode and everything would revolve around him, but he'd struggle for the rest of time to turn it off.
Jay had thought that he was in love three times in his life before Heeseung.
The first time, it was with a girl in his fifth grade science lab. She was smarter than any other ten year old he'd ever met and smelled like fruit punch. That was enough for him.
The second, a shy trainee from a small company who courted him through an excess of material gifts. During years of rigourous training and getting torn apart during examinations, the act made Jay feel more noticed and understood than he had felt in years.
The third, Park Sunghoon, as they prepared their I-Land entrance exam - partially because he had given Sunghoon his first kiss, and swore up and down that they would be something more.
Though nothing compared to when he really felt it. When he felt Heeseung make a home in his heart. When Heeseung gave him everything and more, from the smallest I just thought of you gifts, to the deepest of secrets pulled from the corners of Jay's memory. Heeseung was all of it for him.
Now everything felt like it was slipping out of his grasp, but he was ready to sit and pick up the pieces if Heeseung would just tell him how.
“I don’t know, I-“ Heeseung sounded tired, like he didn’t have the energy to finish a conversation that he started. “I think you want us to be more. And I don’t think I can do that for you. I’m really sorry, Jay.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Jay still felt like fighting despite a knot beggining to catch in his throat. He continued, "This didn’t mean anything to you?” His voice wavered as he spoke, frustrated tears welled in his eyes but he’d be damned if he let himself cry right now.
Should he be as stoic as Heeseung was? Or should he be upset? Heeseung was apologizing. He had to have known that this wasn’t going to be easy for Jay to digest so why wasn’t he even looking at him?
Why wasn’t he kissing him like he always had?
Jay’s heart was crawling out of his throat and reaching for Heeseung’s hands. He wanted to hold them, to kiss them, to be touched by them again and have it mean something. He'd take anything at this point.
What Jay wanted from him was simple. Heeseung just wanted less.
Jay had given far too much. He had a habit of putting all of himself into what he wanted, watching everything crumble around him when he’d inevitably lose his balance. But he would always get back up. This felt like one of those moments.
He felt himself slowly losing Heeseung, but this time he couldn’t see what happens next. He didn’t like this timeline. He didn’t plan for everything to drop off like this. Whatever he is supposed to be doing or feeling right now were unreachable answers somewhere in his brain. He felt out of control.
“It did. Of course it did, Jay.” The simplicity of Heeseung’s words stung. Jay looked in them for the kindness he had come to know so deeply. Heeseung’s voice was warm and thick like honey in his ears, love dripping past his lips with Jay swallowing every bit of it under him. But nothing was there. His voice was empty. “I don’t want to make this harder for you - for us.”
Jay had to go. Maybe they could sleep on it and revisit it in the morning. It would probably make more sense then.
Maybe Heeseung would change his mind.
His hope was embarrassing. He felt it in his shoulders when he stood from the bed, pulling on the clothes Heeseung had taken off of him earlier that night. He felt uncomfortable in front of Heeseung suddenly, like a stranger was tracing his silhouette moving through the dark, someone who didn’t know every inch of him.
Someone who didn’t know how he liked to be kissed.
Convincing himself that Heeseung would wake up and change his mind is what gave Jay the push to leave. Maybe he should have said more. Maybe he should have let himself cry, let himself beg for Heeseung as badly as his heart wanted him to.
He wanted Heeseung to just lay with him and keep loving him. Or love him at all.
His skin felt hot, embarrassment flushing up his chest to his neck. He walked to the door with just a quiet goodnight, hyung, closing it behind him. Heeseung didn't get up to follow him. He didn’t say anything back. The sudden chill of the hallway made his skin tingle.
Heeseung was an eternity away. Jay couldn’t place the moment he began to lose him if he tried. It was too sudden, too easy for Heeseung. He wanted to go back and undo whatever he must have done to start this.
But, Jay never really had him to begin with, and that realization where he stands in the dim-lit hallway feels like a tsunami in his lungs. His vessel is weak and full of pathetic, expired love. Full of Heeseung. He felt heavy on his feet.
The sound of Heeseung getting changed and into his own bed alone brought a flood behind his eyes, breaking his heart and threatening the bottled up anger inside of him to release once again.
Everything was too much.
He still hadn’t moved, he just stood lamely in the hallway, too confused to will himself of much more than that.
Where the fuck does he go from here?
It had been nearly five months, and it was all time that Jay knows he’ll carry pieces of forever. His first real love, the first person he put his everything into, the first person he trusted to know every part of him that he would hide from the rest of the world. It all felt too important to let himself ever be truly upset with Heeseung. He was in a daze, his brain preoccupied with digging through his memories for the best parts of them.
He likes to think that there were a lot of ‘best parts’. Jay can live with pieces of Heeseung if he needs to.
“Hyung?”
The voice startled him, his attention diverting behind him to the source of it. Jungwon.
He looked small and tired, ducking out of his room and into the hallway, standing in front of Jay to get a better look at his face. Jay cleared his throat before he spoke, “Hi, Jungwon-ah.”
“What are you doing out here? It’s almost two o’clock in the morning.” Jungwon was whispering gently, but his face was stitched with concern. He could always sense when something was wrong. Jay was convinced he could see through walls or maybe he really was part cat and had some freaky, heightened senses or something. Either way, Jay could never hide from him. It put a weird bout of guilt in his stomach if he even tried.
“I’m just going back to bed.” Jay forced a smile, attempting to brush him off despite the truth seeping out of his pores. Jungwon knew it wasn’t the full story. He looked at Jay, willing him to continue, so he did. “Actually, can we talk? It’ll be quick, I just need a minute.”
Jungwon grabbed Jay’s wrist lightly and led him into the living room, far enough from the bedrooms so that they didn't need to keep whispering, and so they wouldn’t risk waking anyone. They sat on the couch together in the warm orange light from the one lamp they had always left on for moments like this - when someone inevitably needed Jungwon in the middle of the night. He would always willingly carry the member’s worries with him when they needed a break. Jay wonders if Jungwon would know to ask if he needed one, too. He hopes so.
Jay didn’t know what to say, but Jungwon sat politely, waiting for him to start. His eyelids looked heavy, giving Jay the urge to sweep him up and tuck him back into bed, but the younger was listening intently. No one listened quite like Jungwon. He was the best audience anyone could ask for.
“It’s just-“ Jay felt his breath catch in his throat on the two words alone. Crying in front of Jungwon was the last thing he wanted to have happen right now. “It’s Heeseung.”
Jungwon hummed and nodded in understanding instantly. He caught Jay’s eyes, reading him like an open book. “Are you guys okay?”
“I don’t think so,” Jay said, still reeling in his confusion. His own brain wasn't letting him understand it, probably for the sake of his overly-sensitive heart. “I think I just got dumped.” He huffed a laugh as he said it.
Jungwon scooted towards him, bringing him in for a hug. His warmth felt foreign to Jay, like he was suddenly thrown into relearning what sincerity in physical affection looks like.
It wasn’t that Heeseung was not kind, Heeseung was always deeply kind. It felt like they had been in love. Jay thought they were.
In Jay's eyes, it was as if Heeseung’s heart was reset, ready to feel something new, something different and more exciting. And Jay sat with his love filling up his lungs, a haze clouding his head, feeling like he’ll never let go of what he had left for Heeseung. What Heeseung didn’t get to feel from him.
Jay wanted to give him more. He wanted to keep trying, to be better for Heeseung.
Jungwon rubbed comforting circles into Jay’s back. It - with the combined warmth of his arms around Jay’s frame - was so soothing that Jay hadn’t even realized his tears began falling onto Jungwon’s shoulder, seeping into his sweatshirt. It felt disgusting and relieving at the same time.
His breath became shallow and short, and Jungwon heard his tears before he felt them as he pulled them apart. His eyes widened at the look of Jay like this. It was always humiliating, crying in front of someone so much younger, but his sensitivity had failed him so many times already that no one could possibly be keeping count.
He could fall apart in the arms of anyone who’d hold him.
Jay never thought it fair that Jungwon’s responsibility hadn’t always been kind to him, exhausting him to his bones far too young. There’s no one better for the part than him, but the guilt of seeing Jungwon break from his efforts eats away at his gut. Jay felt like shit for adding to the weight, but it felt far too relieving being comforted like this for him to let it end just yet.
“Hyung, I’m really sorry,” Jungwon started, searching Jay’s eyes for what he’s supposed to say, a little lost with the unfamiliar subject matter. Jay wanted to crawl in his lap and cry all night, letting himself wallow in it for a while. It feels like something he needs right now. He manages to calm himself down a bit, his eyes still red and puffy and his nose still clogged, and Jungwon continues, “You look so sad right now, I don’t know what to do.”
Jay laughs. Jungwon is just so cute. “I’ll be okay, I think we might just need time. Or something.” Still trying to convince himself that it’s not permanent. That they’ll fix this and it will all just be an embarrassing story in the morning.
His hope made him feel sick.
“Yeah maybe, hyung,” Jungwon held Jay’s hands in his lap, gentle and quiet in the warm light. “If you don’t sleep soon you’ll wake up with a headache.”
“You’re right,” Jungwon was always right. “I’m sorry for waking you and keeping you up with this.”
Jungwon looked at Jay with the softest eyes imaginable. Jay felt hot everywhere, like the younger was a mini radiator of solace sitting beside him that he never wanted to leave. Jungwon really didn't have to say much to bring Jay out of his own head. His gentle hands were enough to ease waves of relief through his system.
“Drink some water and go to sleep, okay?” Jungwon stood from the couch and looked at Jay in his sad, wet eyes to really get his point across. The sight of him must be pretty severe, as the corners of Jungwon's lips wobble, threatening an endeared smile.
“I will. Thank you, Jungwon-ah.” Warmth bloomed amidst the waves crashing around in his lungs.
Jungwon turned and smiled back at him as he walked away, “Come see me in the morning if you need to, hyung. Goodnight.”
Jay felt oddly calm in the eerie silence of the dorm. He wondered if anyone else was awake, if Jungwon’s return to his bed would jostle Sunoo enough to wake up and ask what was going on. Jay felt an uncomfortable urge to stand outside Heeseung’s door and listen. He wanted to hear if Heeseung had really gone to sleep without him. Was he really not thinking anything of this? Was he right for finding this so easy?
He sits in his thoughts for a while before following Jungwon’s orders and pouring himself some water in the kitchen. As the fridge door closes, a recent memory displays itself in front of him, a deep fondness glowing somewhere in his chest.
The members had taken it upon themselves to stick photos on the fridge, gentle reminders of love and warmth within the walls of their shared dorm. Photos of Jungwon and Sunoo together stand out first, a scribble of permanent marker along the base of one reading ‘photo credit to jongsaengie-hyung’. He feels his blood warming in his face, flushing his cheeks as he smiles.
Then, he notices a photo of Jake and Sunghoon from an old schedule, wearing outlandish accessories that Jay can’t place any reasoning on. Their poses so extreme he forces himself to hold in a laugh.
And finally, a drawing Riki had done for Jay’s birthday. As embarrassing as it was for Jay to see the members laughing at the so-called "portrait" Riki had conjured up, he knows the act came from somewhere kind. Riki loves as gently as Jay does, and Jay see's his younger self in him more often than he'll ever admit to the younger, saving him from light-hearted but certainly inevitable bullying from the other members.
Sometimes Riki would play up his height, and he tended to act older than he was. But in moments like this, where Jay stands admiring the younger’s drawing on the fridge of their home, Riki feels so young. He often worries that Riki hides his homesickness from them, or if the still silence of the evenings gets into his head like it does his own.
Jay hopes they are raising him well despite the weight of it all.
The dorm had taken time to feel like home to any of them, and even longer to emit something resembling comfort. But, now that they have grown and learned and loved in it, Jay finds it hard to ever want to leave. Their memories seep from the walls, moments of warmth in the quiet corners of it feeling like a weighty comfort around his shoulders.
They really feel like a family sometimes.
Jay thinks that things might be okay. The morning still lurks, waiting for sleep to wash over him as he finally sneaks back into his own bed, but whatever it brings, the hardships that follow may be a little bit easier to digest in a simple apartment insulated with love.
He feels any considerations of resentment leaving him as he relaxes into his sheets. His heart still aches and his eyes still burn, but having someone like Jungwon to hold his hand makes the pain just a little bit easier.
Someone to sit with him in the uncomfortable quiet of lonely mornings is exactly what he needs. He knows Jungwon will be that for him.
***
So here he is, four months after that night, their distance still occasionally hitting him in moments of weakness. When he’d catch Heeseung’s smile, teeth still adorably too big for his mouth, and a vision of that same mouth kissing him, laughing with him in their bed would follow.
The weight of missing Heeseung still hung on his shoulders. It felt suffocating sometimes. Enough for Jay to wonder if he’ll ever really be over it. It proved to be more tasking than any drama or film or person could have ever prepared him for.
Jay wanted to hate him sometimes. He wanted to hold Heeseung’s words over his head like blackmail, wanting everyone to feel the heartbreak he was subjected to. But how could he? They were young, and Jay had simply fallen in love too quickly, too recklessly for it to really work out.
He has definitely done enough thinking for the rest of his life since that night, thanks to the other members forcing it out of him, and he has come to realize that it hasn’t been easy for Heeseung either.
***
Somewhere in the thick of his despair, he had laid in bed with Jake on an especially lonely night. He needed a warm body to hold him, someone to rub his back and drift his mind elsewhere for a short, fleeting moment of peace through it all. Jake had always been great at that kind of stuff.
And that’s when Jake told him.
Since the breakup, Heeseung had confided in Jake more than he used to. He saw Heeseung at his worst, and worked as a messenger between the two when they weren’t back on speaking terms just yet. Jake was a great listener - his heart just as soft as Jay’s own - and deeply sympathetic to the point that he sometimes seemed just as affected by it all as he was, sharing tears between their bunks.
“He’s hurting too, hyung.”
The admission burns in Jay’s chest to hear.
“He’s still feeling it. All the time. As much as I try to take his mind off of it, he won’t let it go. You guys are both pretty stubborn.” Jake laughed as he said it.
Jay didn’t know what to say. He knew it would have been impossible for Heeseung to have felt nothing, but Jay’s own insecurity convinced him otherwise. As if five months of knowing Heeseung inside and out coming to an end was enough to undo every good part in between. Jake rested his forehead against the back of Jay’s shoulder, the weighted warmth a nice comfort.
Jay doesn’t think he ever replied to Jake that night, his mind busy working overtime to make sense of the seed that was just planted in his head.
Heeseung was feeling it all too. Was he drowning in it like Jay had been? Guilt crawled into his gut at the thought of Heeseung bottling it all away. He wanted to be the one to hold it all for him.
Jay was eventually lulled to sleep by Jake’s steady breathing against his neck, and he wakes up feeling more rested than he has in a while, the something resembling normalcy feeling almost within reach.
***
After it all, he felt that Heeseung deserved a warning as much as he did. Some sort of guide to finding the switch to activate Loving Park Jongseong Mode in his brain, like he had for him.
They still have love for each other, and have always had some kind of love there. But Jay has since separated the love he wanted from the love he got. It makes sense now.
So he’ll never hate Heeseung for it. He couldn’t possibly. Even if he tried.
But he’ll always have a tinge of resentment for the way he misses his touch. The way he aches for how Heeseung had always made him feel when they were together. The way he knew Jay inside and out, and he has yet to find someone as willing as Heeseung to learn him like that since
Jay can be a lot. He knows that.
Yet, Heeseung had never told him he was too much. He would meet his energy; the highest highs and the lowest lows, Jay was never alone in them.
Jay can feel it again. A gentle tugging in his chest. This time, it seems kind. Something good.
He feels it when Heeseung catches him staring and shoots the same warm, boyish smile at him. Or when Heeseung needs someone, he still tends to lean on Jay, their bond building itself from the ground up into something unbreakable. Jay can slowly feel his heart being put back together.
He feels it in the quiet moments, when it’s just them and Jay finally catches his eyes and can really see him, he notices how he carries his exhaustion in his face more than he used to. How he has shied away from being the center of attention even more these days. He wonders if Heeseung feels whole. If he was to lay in silence with him once again, if the same comfort would settle between them, the instinct to relax into each other still inside of him somewhere. Jay wants to try.
And maybe he is wrong, reaching for something that isn’t there. His little remainder of hope washes over him when he always least expects it. But when the air between them settles into the same familiar, calm they had come to know so well, he thinks that Heeseung might be missing him too.
His eyes full of understanding. A tired smile saved just for him. A quiet offering of his heart that Jay is more than willing to take.