Chapter Text
Jaehyun looked out through the french window of his Jeju house. The picturesque view of a cloudless sky, volcanic stone wall, and the vast East Sea lured him into a recurring daydream.
A soft touch on his cheek brought him out of it, out of the looping memory of a man standing right where he was, partially hidden by the billowing curtain caressing his face.
Along with the gentle wind came the scent of peaches, their sweetness prominent amongst the salty air. Flashes of the time he planted the peach tree in his backyard resurface. Technically, it belonged to someone else. Someone who used to come and do things he would never do himself. Like bringing home a peach sapling, a shovel, and a gardening kit.
Doyoung handed the first two things to Jaehyun and sat decisively on the porch.
“Come on, start digging. I’ll watch.”
Not unlike a soldier obeying his officer’s command, Jaehyun started digging. He could hear some camera clicks every so often, which prompted him to bulge his veins for show. Giggles and wolf whistles ensued, all while the young tree was finally nested in the middle of the lawn.
In the afternoon, a spring rain came as if to celebrate the new member of the house. The two men lounged side by side on the porch's rattan loveseat, Jaehyun’s arm around Doyoung’s shoulders, their faces painted with bliss.
“Do you know why I bought the tree?”
“So I get to do some physical labor for your pleasure?”
“You don’t need a shovel for that, love.”
Jaehyun pretended to gag over the endearment, but they both knew he preened privately. He was complimented for his talent, after all.
“I was reading an article about peaches the other day. It said a peach tree would start producing fruits three years after you planted its seeds. A sapling can grow a little faster, in two years if you’re lucky—well if the soil and everything else fits.”
Jaehyun hummed attentively. The shoulders under his arm rose then fell dramatically as their owner heaved a sigh.
“It would be nice to eat our own peaches when we come back here.”
“You hear that, tree? What Doyoung wants, Doyoung gets. You better grow fast when we’re gone.”
Their utterance of hope, and the underlying threat, seemed to amass a power beyond their will. Today, two years after that late spring day, pink, fuzzy spheres decorated the tree like it was Christmas. Too bad Jaehyun was the only one enjoying its harvest.
Bark!
Oh, and the lovely golden retriever calling his attention. She loved to snack on the peaches after they walk on the beach.
“Time for our walk, is it, Bee?”
Bark! Bark!
“Yeah, I know. Enough moping and start moving. I know."
Bee nudged her nose on his right knee to urge him to her eye level. Jaehyun obliged and ruffled the thick fur around her back, “You’ve been such good company, Bee. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Looking into her tender eyes, Jaehyun was hit upon all the possibilities of a life in absolute solitude. None of them were as interesting as having a furry body leap onto him in the early mornings, mopping paw prints all over the house after rainy afternoons, or getting snuggled when he was about to fall asleep. Definitely not the last one, even if he ended up sweating like a pig.
As a child, Jaehyun was rarely if ever alone. His parents were always present for him, and his gratitude will always fall short. Growing up, he got whirled into a long, winding road to fulfill his dream. He met people who went on the same journey and was never alone since. At least not in a way that left him craving human contact.
Staying in the seaside house he bought almost five years ago, for three months now, Jaehyun felt a certain kind of loneliness for the first time. It seeped deep into his bones, relentless in its quest to pull him further to a place so dark even the bright July sun could barely light it.
He was tempted sometimes. To wallow in self-pity. To let misery win.
But then there was Bee. And peaches. Sunlight. The people in the market. The abundance of produce. Delicious food. Children’s laughter. Sands between his toes. Salt. Salt in the water, in the air, in a jar on top of his full kitchen shelf.
How can he deny himself of all this life, all these wonderful things knocking on his door as soon as he felt a slight melancholy?
So, Jaehyun picked up Bee’s leash, put it on her neck, and heeded the call of the blue sky.
*
A week after he settled into the house, Jaehyun came across one of his new neighbors on his afternoon ride. She was around his mother’s age and being his mother’s son, Jaehyun got off his bike to greet the woman. She was pleased to know which house he moved into. Jaehyun became wary, even more so when she asked him to follow her.
They were walking about half a kilometer from the town center when Jaehyun heard them. There, from the white building at the end of the road, came the lively barks of a dozen dogs or so. Coming closer, he saw the yellow name sign next to the tall gate, Canola Shelter.
“You said you moved alone into that big house with the big lawn, so I assumed you might fancy a company,” the lady explained as she pulled open the side gate. She stopped abruptly and slapped her forehead, “Silly me. I just looked at your face and thought you must be a dog person, but I forgot to ask. Are you allergic? I hope not.”
Jaehyun chuckled politely, “No, I’m not. I really like dogs.”
“Good. And I bet the dogs love you, too.”
She was right, of course. On both the assumption that the dogs love him and his need for a companion. Jaehyun was convinced she was a clairvoyant in her past life. Because instead of giving him the adoption form for the one-year-old golden retriever who stole his attention by nudging her nose on his leg the whole time he was there, she handed out a foster care registration.
“You can take care of each other for as long as you need. Call me when you’re ready.”
As cryptic as it was, Jaehyun only nodded and filled out the paper. The woman, who turned out to be the shelter's owner, scribbled her phone number on the copy and sent Jaehyun home with a box of Bee’s food and her bed.
When he arrived home, Jaehyun saved her contact as Lifesaver. That was what she was for the dogs she rescued. And occasionally, for men who isolate themselves after completing their military service.
Somehow, perhaps through a supernatural ability only women possess, his lifesaver had gleaned critical information based on only an hour of interaction with him. Jaehyun didn’t mention anything about the reason for his move, or the fact that it had only been two weeks since his discharge. Or, surprisingly, the fact that he was an asset of one of the country’s biggest entertainment companies. Somehow, she knew he was lost, alone, and in no state to commit to becoming a fur parent in the long run.
Whatever magic she wielded and continued wielding via Bee’s presence, it worked like a charm. The one unfortunate feature of charms was that they all have an expiration date. Jaehyun had expected the parting, so when he woke up without something fluffy tickling his chin, he knew it was time.
That day, under the strong light of the August sun, Jaehyun ditched the bike and hopped on his convertible with Bee in the passenger seat. They drove across the island, all the way from the east side to the west side, making their stops at Jaehyun’s favorite pet-friendly cafe, at the market to get Bee her favorite rice cake, at the orange farm where another golden retriever welcomed Bee for their playtime across the orchard, and finally, just in time for their daily walk, at the beach where the sun cast long shadows on the sand.
When the sky was the color of ripe papaya, Jaehyun led them to a bench near the water station and filled Bee’s water bowl. He sat down with his bottle and watched the scene unfolding before him: the waves lapping on a scattering of black marbles along the shore, two little girls building sandcastles with their parents watching nearby, a flock of seagulls flying above the water, Bee padding towards him with her tongue lolling out.
“Come here, Bee,” Jaehyun tapped the bench and she leaped up to rest her head on his lap.
Jaehyun had seen a lot of golden hours in the past months, yet there was something nostalgic about this afternoon’s sunset. It reminded him of that light feeling, that peacefulness he only ever felt when he was home. Spending his last day with Bee shouldn’t have felt like coming home, and yet it did. He wanted to feel sad about saying goodbye, but he was not.
Because he was ready.
Ready to go again. Ready to find his way back home.
Bark!
“Thanks for the support, Bee. Took me a while, but here I am,” Jaehyun kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go find our forever homes.”
*
Spilled grains of chili powder make for a pretty nasty choking hazard. Jaehyun found out the hard way when he failed to move the container from the shelf to the cardboard box for kitchen spices.
“Oh, God. Please don’t die,” came his savior’s voice before a glass of water was thrust into his face.
Guzzling the liquid like a pirate with rum, Jaehyun felt his windpipe relaxing. He took a steadying breath and said, “Thanks, Johnny. Can’t believe I almost got killed by freaking chili powder.”
“Anytime, dude.” Johnny pointed at the red-sprinkled counter, “Chili powder, you’re grounded.”
Silence.
“Get it? Because they ground peppers to make chili powder.”
“Trying not to laugh and choke again here.”
“Har har, I’m so funny.”
“Shut up, hyung.”
They continued emptying the kitchen shelves into boxes, leaving some ingredients out for Jaehyun to cook their dinner. He promised Johnny the best seafood pasta he’ll ever taste when he found the canned crab meat in the depths of his refrigerator. The batches of side dishes were already packed into a cooler, so the refrigerator sat empty now, save for a few cans of beer and bottled water.
His well-stocked kitchen was a part of the house Jaehyun decided to bring to Seoul. It was true what people said, homemade food was the best remedy for any sickness. Cooking his own meals was better than any meditation suggested to Jaehyun by his counselor. He had always loved cooking, not only the act itself but every process leading to it. He enjoyed buying ingredients, finding new recipes, and figuring out which food pairing tasted the best. Doing those tasks used to be a luxury to him, things he only did when he had a rest day and nothing urgent to do.
Cooking was a different brand of luxury now. A superior, highly-effective medicine to restore Jaehyun to who he was. Penicillin to his existential crisis.
It had been a while since he cooked for another person. Johnny preferred simple and bare-bones menus, so Jaehyun paired the crab linguine with fresh tomato salad and the wine Johnny brought with him this morning. The scent of garlic and olive oil perfumed the kitchen and rendered the two men ravenous.
They promptly sat on the dining table, and upon taking his first bite, Johnny said, “I know you were always a good cook, but what is this? Why is this pasta insanely good?”
Jaehyun shrugged and kept slurping the noodle, too hungry to give a proper response.
“You took up cooking classes or what? Are you planning to be a chef?”
"I considered it,” Jaehyun admitted.
Hearing the grave tone in his answer, Johnny paused. He put down his fork to look at Jaehyun.
"I considered doing different things. Chef, bed and breakfast host, professional surfer." A beat, before, "Even a husband. Or a father."
Johnny calmly nodded and sipped on his wine. His silence slightly irked Jaehyun.
"You're not gonna ask me why?"
"I thought I didn't have to,” Johnny evenly replied. "You know you can tell me everything."
For all his mischief and buffoonery, Johnny was indeed a great listener. Jaehyun needed to get out of his head, to have someone else weigh in on his thoughts, and Johnny was his best option. They were close, but nowhere near getting exposed to their deepest core. The perfect balance to provide a much-needed voice of reason.
"I was happy,” said Jaehyun. “At the military, it was so much better than I expected. We woke up at the same time every day, ate three meals a day, exercised, and rested on schedule. I feel like my life was back in order, a full one-eighty from how it was. It felt good.”
Johnny tilted his head a little, “I heard the Marine Corps can be tough for some people. It wasn’t, for you?”
“It was. It can be physically demanding at times. So easy to get injured, too, if you’re not focused. Like I did.”
He was practicing one of the more complicated moves in Taekwondo. Those kicks and flips required intense concentration, but he was distracted. A long letter arrived in his mailbox the previous night. After he had done reading and was about to write his reply, his curfew came. He was fixated on the prospect of writing back to his lover that almost a full day slipped by.
Until the worst happened. Jaehyun tore a ligament on his right knee, and the letter went unanswered.
“That injury was like a wake-up call, you know?” said Jaehyun. “Or more like bursting a bubble. Suddenly, my life wasn’t just about combat practices, studying war strategies, and bonding with fellow soldiers. People from my actual life started visiting me, asking about me, reminding me that they exist. Since then, even after my discharge, I feel like I was living in two worlds.” Jaehyun added quietly, “I still am.”
“Two worlds as in one where your life is in order and one which is not?” asked Johnny.
“No, one where I am a performer and one where I’m not.”
“Ah. Hence the different jobs.”
Jaehyun hummed. “They’re not just different jobs, they are different lives. I was considering a life outside of the one I was living.”
Johnny licked his fork clean and wiped his mouth. His plate was cleared of any bits of food, a sign that Jaehyun took as satisfaction and a commendation for his cooking skill. Becoming a chef might not be such a farfetched idea.
“So, you’re not doing it anymore? You keep saying you were considering it. What about now?”
“Honestly? I don’t know,” admitted Jaehyun. “I just decided it's time to move on. To get out there and stop thinking. It’s better to start doing something, anything, even if I still feel like I’m in between.”
They went into silence again. Jaehyun welcomed it this time.
“I was in your place once, back when I was a trainee,” said Johnny. “I had to go back and forth from Chicago to Seoul. Well, you know how it was.”
Jaehyun nodded reverently. He always admired the American for going across the world to chase his dreams, at thirteen. Brave and tenacious were the two words he’d always associated with Johnny.
“When summer came and went, and then I got back to school and lived like a normal kid in the US, it distorted my mind a little. Some days, I’d be hanging out with friends and stuff, but all I could think about was singing lessons or talking in Korean for the next summer. That sucks, you know? I just wanted to enjoy doing some stupid shit, but my conscience held me back. There was this voice in my head telling me to ‘think about the consequences for the future’,” Johnny chuckled and shook his head. “At that point, I was already in between. Chicago and Seoul. High school and training programs. A kid and an idol.”
Almost two decades and a lifetime had passed, yet Jaehyun remembered. The after-school training sessions. His late-night commute back home. The list of goals he set for himself. His determination.
“You’ve been there, too, Jaehyun,” Johnny smiled ruefully. “We’ve always been living in between two worlds.”
Amid the turmoil of moving from one life stage to the next, Jaehyun neglected to see the truth. He was meant to live two different lives. He made his commitment all those years ago before he even knew what it meant to be an idol. His home, his soul, his every particle was carved in between two worlds. And he was not alone there.
"I guess I needed someone to remind me."
"You needed time,” Johnny supplied. “Coming back after two years away in a completely different environment must be disorienting. At least, that's what I heard from Taeil hyung, Taeyong, and Doyoung."
Jaehyun squirmed in his seat, hearing the last name. Just when he thought they were done dealing with his crisis, another reared its head.
“Have you talked to Doyoung?” Johnny dropped the question like he was asking about the weather. It was fine—the weather, not the subject they were about to discuss.
“I have... not,” Jaehyun answered, reluctant. “I know he’s busy recording for his album, so I don’t want to bother him.”
Which was true, in part. Jaehyun kept tabs on the other’s social media and his tags, so he knew how Doyoung was doing at the moment. There was no need for him to reach out and talk. Yet.
“Huh. And he said he doesn’t want to interrupt your rest.”
Before Jaehyun could dissect the information, Johnny went on, "Look, I know you’ve been through a lot. And Doyoung told me about the last time he wrote to you in the military.” A slight pause. Johnny ran a finger through the condensation on his empty glass. “He never brought it up again. Never talked about you since then.”
Jaehyun felt an ache blossom in his chest. It pained him to think about how Doyoung wanted nothing to do with him, more so since he deserved it.
“I didn’t want to pry, because I know you guys keep things private sometimes. And that’s normal for you, I know that. But.” Another pause. A sigh. “It’s been a year since your injury, right? Since you stopped talking to each other, I assume?”
Jaehyun was aware. His leg took two months to recover completely. He wasn’t required to attend classes and meetings in person, so there was time to write. Too much time, in fact, that it allowed insecurities to rob him of his words and bury everything he wanted to say inside him. If what his counselor surmised was correct, he needed to prepare for an explosion once enough pressure was applied. Once the time to talk came.
Taking Jaehyun’s silence in stride, Johnny relented, “Okay. If you’re still bent on keeping things to yourself, that’s fine. I’m not gonna push you.”
Jaehyun scratched an itch on his right arm, a sensation stimulated by his guilt.
“But you’re gonna have to come around, Jaehyun. Our manager’s wedding is in two weeks, and Doyoung will be there. You can’t avoid him forever.”
“I know,” replied Jaehyun, solemn. “I never wanted to, in the first place.”
*
What Jaehyun wanted didn't matter. The wedding came soon enough and Doyoung did anything but avoid him.
As soon as Jaehyun set foot in the reception area, his eyes locked onto Doyoung's from the other end of the hall. Those astute eyes followed him for the rest of the evening. Jaehyun fell victim to their arresting power, so much so that his entire back perspired under his suit jacket.
Or perhaps it was due to the number of people in attendance. Half of them, if not more, were people Jaehyun knew and recognized. Yet they felt like strangers. He felt like a stranger. There was that nagging thought telling him he didn't belong there.
It was irritating. Jaehyun had never felt that way around this crowd before. These were his people. Some were even ones he held close to his heart. He cared for these people.
Beyond his irritation, his mind acknowledged that he hadn't met most of them in two years. And he knew how much he had changed in that time. How much he had to adjust to accommodate those changes.
Like a wise man once said, he needed time. Whatever discomfort he was feeling now would pass.
Times like this made him miss Bee and her little nudges of love. They were imperative for his sense of security then. Her presence had reassured him that everything would be alright.
Being in Doyoung's presence gave him the same kind of reassurance, even when they were not interacting with each other.
They stood in a circle with their friends and colleagues, sharing their stories with people, but not with each other. Not in the way they used to, when they would naturally complete each other's sentences because they knew.
They used to know everything, remember everything about each other.
They used to be everything.
At one point during the night, Doyoung seemed to get enough of their stalemate. He put down his half-finished cocktail on a table beside the bar area and marched to where Jaehyun was standing near the patio door.
And Jaehyun once again fell under the spell of Doyoung's power, this time it was his hand leading him towards a dimly-lit part of the patio.
Even with insufficient lighting, Doyoung glowed. His hair was slicked back and some strands were left hanging across his forehead. His modern fit suit accentuated the slim waist Jaehyun had held a thousand times before. And his face. Oh, God, his face.
Jaehyun had let himself loose on the drinks to get a little tipsy tonight. All traces of the alcohol he consumed were gone once he registered the set of Doyoung's jaw.
He held his breath when Doyoung began to speak.
"Don't you have something to say to me?"
The air was so thick with tension, Jaehyun thought twice to breathe. He licked his lips nervously.
"No? Nothing at all? I've been waiting all night for you to come to me, to talk to me," Doyoung reproached. "I'm done with this silent treatment, Jaehyun. I'm tired."
Jaehyun felt something prick his eyes. Seeing and hearing Doyoung dejected like this was torture. He hated to be the cause of it—to crush him even further with his reticence.
Alas, his words still eluded him. He could only stare at the beautiful man in front of him, his face contorted in distress.
They stared at each other for a while, muffled singing from the live band inside the hall the only source of sound in the space. The air was still tense with emotions. Jaehyun tried to catalog each one that passed across Doyoung's face, but faltered when he found one that he hardly ever saw on Doyoung.
"You may not remember how to talk to me, but I hope you remember how to kiss me."
Doyoung left him no time to deflect as he surged forward and kissed Jaehyun's parted lips.
His breath escaped him at once, because he remembered. Jaehyun remembered how it felt to be touched by Doyoung. To touch Doyoung. To have Doyoung.
Jaehyun remembered how it felt to be home.
Yet home didn't taste like this. The kiss didn't taste sweet like it used to. The lips that used to touch him with ease and familiar pressure were now clumsy and unfamiliar.
It was not Doyoung who kissed him. It was his anger—his emotion controlling his action into something that was ugly. Something alien to Jaehyun and Doyoung himself.
Doyoung seemed to realize what he was doing. He pulled back as quickly as he had touched Jaehyun. There was a slight tremble to his hands when he wiped at his mouth, his eyes losing their focus.
Jaehyun kept his hands to his sides, but his foot moved an inch forward on instinct—to soothe Doyoung out of his shock.
The older man took a step back, then another, all while keeping his eyes on his hands. His voice came out in a whisper, "I—I'm sorry."
He turned around stiffly, his steps looked heavy as he walked away from Jaehyun. Leaving him dazed and worse than he'd felt since he took that step out of his solitude.
*