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Hyunjin is lying on the bed next to Minho. It's Minho's bed, in Minho's apartment, but over the last year Hyunjin has come to know it as well as his own. It's August and it's hot, and Minho's apartment is one loose screw away from being condemned, so of course the AC is broken. They have the window open but it's not helping. It's just letting in bugs and filthy Seoul air. They're on top of the sheets, stripped down to their boxers, too tired to even speak. Hyunjin watches Minho’s fan rotate back and forth on its axis, little fan blades turning and turning and doing nothing to benefit anyone. It's a tired silence, but a nice one. Hyunjin likes existing like this with Minho: close but not touching, his presence creating a canopy over Hyunjin thicker than any shade. He thinks he could fall asleep here if it wasn't too hot to breathe properly.
Minho's phone buzzes. He drags his hand up to his side table and swipes the message away. It buzzes again. Minho grabs the phone and squints at the screen, types out a response. Hyunjin watches from the edge of his vision as Minho's eyes seem to light up. He sits up, bouncing his mattress and Hyunjin on it, engrossed in the conversation.
And Hyunjin doesn't like to be jealous. He finds the feeling ugly. Feeling it more often lately has not made it less ugly. Still, it rears in him, teeth bared, violent. It might be easier to ignore if it was directionless. But Hyunjin knows the person on the other end.
"What does Jisung want?" he asks. The words are hard to get out, as cooked-through as Hyunjin feels.
Minho's eyes dart up for only a moment before fixing back on his phone. "He's just sending me dumb shit."
"Right."
Minho doesn't respond because there was nothing to respond to. Hyunjin isn't entirely sure what he's waiting for. There's nothing Minho could say to make him feel better, because Hyunjin doesn’t even know what he wants Minho to say. He wants Minho to apologize maybe, but he doesn’t think he’d believe him. He also doesn't think it's something he's allowed to say out loud
"Is he gonna come over and bother you?" Hyunjin says.
"You want to see him?"
"Do you?" Actually, what Hyunjin wants is for Minhoto put down the phone, but he doesn't. Instead, he shrugs and says,
"He'd drag us into one his schemes, and I think it's too hot for that."
Right. Jisung's "schemes". Hyunjin had every variety of them memorized by the time they were in their second year of college, had come up with diversions for more than half by summer session. Sometimes Minho would come home and tell Hyunjin a play-by-play of his and Jisung's entire afternoon, as if Hyunjin hadn't lived that same day a hundred times over. Sometimes Minho would marvel at "the way Jisung's mind works" as if it was incomprehensible. As if Hyunjin hadn't had it figured out for years. Or, he’d thought he had. Because he'd clearly miscalculated here, somewhere. He'd enabled an equation that didn't involve himself. If Jisung showed up, Minho would indulge his "schemes". He'd give Jisung this big eye smile while he was explaining them. And he would turn to Hyunjin after, checking that he’d understood. Like Hyunjin was the one who was new to their party. As if Hyunjin was the one intruding on something practiced and easy and private.
Minho's phone rings. He picks it up immediately, pads off into the living room to take the call. Hyunjin lays his cheek on Minho's bed and ferments.
Introducing them had seemed like the right thing to do, at the time. He'd been dating Minho for almost seven months, and he and Jisung still hadn't met. Their schedules never lined up, or someone got sick, or the weather rebelled, or some host of other reasons always prevented the get-together. In hindsight, Hyunjin considers that to be the universe warning him to change course, but of course he hadn't listened. He'd been too proud of himself, then. After pining after Jisung for almost three years, he'd finally told himself enough was enough and decided to put himself on the dating market. If he obsessed over someone else, then maybe his feelings for Jisung would fade. And they did. He met Minho, strong, steady Minho, who was snappish and sarcastic but still so gentle when it mattered, still made Hyunjin feel settled in a way he'd never felt before, not even with Jisung. This is how it was supposed to be, he'd told himself. He has a best friend who stirs him up and a boyfriend who calms him down. Perfect balance. After a few months, Hyunjin was no longer obsessing over Jisung's relationships, only concerned about his own. But Jisung was still his best friend, and he wanted his two favorite people to like each other. So, after months of interruptions and accidents and miscommunications, they finally managed to go out for lunch together.
Hyunjin is technically not sure if love at first sight is something observable from the outside, but he knows he saw it. They greeted each other, and Hyunjin could already see Jisung's fingers doing that little twitch they did when he was overwhelmed by something, saw Minho stand up a little straighter, eyes focused solely on Jisung’s.
Hyunjin should've broken up with him right then. He’d already known what was about to happen. What is happening, now, in the present, when it feels that Jisung talks to Hyunjin's boyfriend more than Hyunjin does some days. And Hyunjin knows Minho prefers talking to Jisung than to his own boring, useless boyfriend. Hyunjin had heard him say it, after all. Right from the horse's mouth.
He gets out of bed and starts gathering his clothes from the floor.
By the time Minho ends the call, Hyunjin is fully dressed and searching for his own phone. Minho's eyes furrow when he sees Hyunjin in his jeans and t-shirt.
"Going out?"
"Is Jisung coming?"
"Yeah. He's bringing a big bag of ice. Says we can make foot baths."
A scheme. What did he just say.
"I'm going home."
"Home?" Minho seems taken aback. "You were the one that wanted Jisung to come?"
"I just don't want to be here anymore," he says, trying to monitor his speech, trying so hard to push the sick feeling in his stomach down.
"Is everything okay?" Minho asks. He's so concerned. It makes Hyunjin want to hate him so badly, but he's been trying and failing since June. He should've broken up with Minho months ago. He should've broken up with Minho last week, when he heard them in the kitchen. He should-
"I need you to listen to me carefully, okay hyung?"
Still confused, Minho nods. Hyunjin finds his phone, turns it over in his hands. His lockscreen is a picture of him and Minho.
"We need to break up."
The room is silent. Even the fan on the desk seems to hush.
"What?" Minho is looking at Hyunjin like he's speaking alien language. "What are you talking about?"
"This isn't going to work. I want it to, I promise, but it just can't and I don't want to force it."
"Are you feeling alright? Why are you saying things like this?" He steps forward, hands outstretched as if to check Hyunjin's temperature, as if there's a point when they're both drenched in sweat. Maybe Hyunjin is overheating. Only his brain turning to mush could explain the lack of tears as Hyunjin delivers this information.
But Hyunjin steps away, and Minho drops his hand, stunned.
"What's wrong?" he asks again, quieter this time. "Did I do something to hurt you? Did I fuck up somewhere?”
"You haven't fucked up. I just-"
"Then why do you want to break up? What the fuck, Hyunjin? Have you been thinking about this all afternoon?"
It's too hot for Hyunjin to muster the strength to be indignant. "No. I just decided after you got on the phone."
"Hyunjin, can't we just-"
And this conversation is already too long, and Hyunjin is tired.
"I heard you guys in the kitchen last week," Hyunjin says. "You and Jisung."
Everything stops. The blood drains from Minho's face.
"You heard us?"
"Every word."
Minho is staring at Hyunjin like he's scared of him, but Hyunjin isn't a fighter, not anymore. He and Jisung beat that out of each other in college. Minho got to have the softer, more reasonable version of Hyunjin to love. yet, it's times like this that Hyunjin wishes he'd stayed mean. A worse version of himself wouldn't feel the need for all this misplaced chivalry, wouldn't be willing to break his own heart for the good of the majority. He would've been able to resent Jisung in peace. Now, even his envy is underscored with resignation. He's too bendable, where before he used to splinter at every little offense. Unpleasant, to be sure, but safer than how he is now, when he feels everything sharp and stinging.
He wants this to be someone else's fault. He wants this to be someone else's life.
"It's okay that you have feelings for each other," Hyunjin says. "But I'm tired of being in the middle. So, I'm breaking up with you. You and Jisung can do whatever you want now."
"Hyunjin, I-" He’s desperate, in a way Hyunjin's never heard. "I didn't cheat on you. I'd never do that to you."
"I don't think you cheated on me. I think I'm an obstacle. I don't like feeling like an obstacle."
"You're not an obstacle. You're my boyfriend." Minho took a slow, deep breath. "Can we sit down and talk about this? Or we could do it somewhere else, if you don’t want to be in my apartment?"
"I don't want to talk about this." It's petty and he knows it, but he doesn't care, can't care. "If we talk, I'll forgive you, and I don't want to do that. I can't be in a relationship where my boyfriend fantasizes about dating my best friend."
He's aware he's being the asshole here, that he's not giving Minho any room to speak, or to explain himself. He's sure if given the chance, Minho could come up with a great explanation, one where he highlights how he still loves Hyunjin more than anyone else, how he chose him and not Jisung, how Hyunjin and Jisung are different in incomparable ways. And all of those things are true. And none of them change the fact that Minho said, with his own mouth, that he sometimes wished he and Jisung could’ve had a shot at being together. That he'd met Jisung before he'd met Hyunjin. That he'd met Jisung instead of Hyunjin.
Well, call Hyunjin a genie, because that’s one wish he’s actually capable of granting.
"I'm not angry," he assures Minho. "I love you both way too much to be angry. It's okay if you're angry at me, though."
"I'm sorry." Minho tries a different tactic. "I'm so sorry, Jinnie. I don't know what I was thinking when I said those things."
Hyunjin walks past Minho to the front door to get his shoes. "You weren't lying, though. If it was just a comment, I would've let it go. But I'm not stupid, and I'm not blind. I know I'm saying this suddenly, but if I'm still here when Jisung comes over, I'll peel his face off in layers, so I thought I would explain myself before I left." He shrugs again, out of words. "Sorry."
That makes Minho respond, eyes tinting in anger as he unfreezes.
“You don’t have to lash out at Jisung because of me,” Minho says. “It’s me you’re angry with, not him.”
“I think I know my own feelings, hyung. You don’t get to decide what and who I’m mad at.” Hyunjin sucks in a long, tired breath, and says on the exhale, “On his side again, like always.”
He didn’t mean for Minho to hear, but he can’t bring himself to truly feel awful at the stricken look on Minho’s face as Hyunjin grabs his keys, picks up his wallet, and closes the door on Minho's apartment with a quiet click.