Work Text:
⋆˚ʚɞ
Sunghoon woke up to silence for the nth time that week. The little murmurs of morning movement–the hum of the coffee machine or the droning buzz of the shower–that once annoyed him, now greatly missed. The moon's waning glow, filtering through the slats of his blinds, grew warmer as the sun began to rise–its icy cast softening into a golden hue. He knew that on any other day he would have thought it pretty, but today, he just wished the sun hadn’t bothered to rise at all.
Reaching out instinctively, he patted the furled up duvet, his fingers brushing past the cool, undisturbed sheets, just in case a small mound of soft fur was hidden amongst them–but no such luck. He felt especially cold, with no warm body curled into his side.
She’d really taken the dog. His dog. Gaeul was gone.
He couldn’t even remember how the fight started, really–something so small, so trivial, and insignificant to him. But then again, could he even call it a fight? That would usually suggest two parties were involved in the matter, and from his recollection he had stood there gormlessly, barely present, let alone fighting. And it wasn't like he blamed her, not even when she hurled accusations his way, calling him distant and emotionally inept.
He knew all too well how true that was.
He’d felt it more than ever then. Standing there, frozen in place, scrambling for the right words to say to fix whatever he’d done wrong, to prove to her that he could be emotional. But by the time some semblance of coherence began to form in his mind, she’d long since stormed off–a packed suitcase hanging from one hand, Sunghoon’s wailing pup clutched tightly in the other.
The silence was suffocating now, and at moments like this he hoped his alarm would go off, telling him that it was time to wake.
The only sound Sunghoon could recall to fill the quiet was the wails of Gaeul, and the jangle of the bell strung on her collar as his now-ex carried her away. And that was more like rubbing salt in an open wound, so he chose to settle into the quiet, letting it engulf him whole, instead.
Deep down he knew it was her dog too–the one they’d gotten together, hoping it could bridge the distance between them, to build something like a family. She’d hoped it would bring them closer, and in a way, it did, just not in the way she’d hoped. It brought him and Gaeul closer, leaving her on the outside, yet again , of something she thought would unite them.
She almost had it all–everyone's dream man, the nation's heartthrob. With Sunghoon being one of the most popular news anchors, his face was constantly plastered on TV screens, whether it was the forecast or the daily news—when it was his day to present, it was safe to say no one cared if there was a grade-red storm coming their way, they were watching for one reason only.
She thought she’d secured him, and if she was willing to settle, she could have. But despite his looks and the way he carried himself so well, it wasn’t enough for her. She wanted something more–affection and emotions that he was never capable of giving, at least, not to her.
He was subdued and quiet in ways she was too impatient to understand. He wasn’t the kind of person to pour his feelings out just because she wanted him to; in fact , it was seldom he even picked up on her cues to do so. For all her expectations, Sunghoon knew it had been unfair of her to try and change him into someone he wasn’t. Yet he still felt guilty that he wasn’t enough for her.
Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed at his bleary eyes. Tossing the duvet aside, he finally hauled himself out of bed, his head aching from the stress of it all and lack of quality sleep.
Sliding into his slippers, he plodded into the well-kept kitchen, his movements slow and lagging. His fingers rifled through the neatly organised coffee pods, before settling on a blonde blend. He knew he could do with a walk to clear his mind, but without his beloved companion, he simply wasn’t in the mood.
He popped the pod into the machine, stirring blankly as it whirred to life, the smell of roasted steam filling the air. He watched the dark liquid swirl into one of her pink kitschy mugs–a ceramic she’d haphazardly painted during one of their pottery dates. She’d called the muted lavender paint he’d chosen for his boring and bland, but that’s what he liked–simple and understated.
Yawning steadily, the sharp bitter taste of yesterday still lingered on his tongue, reminding him to brush his teeth. Leaving the coffee to pour itself, he pressed a neat line of paste along the bristles of the toothbrush, sliding his fingers up from the bottom so the tube didn’t twist and bend in an ugly manner.
He brushed a little harder than usual, gagging as the mint foam grew from the vigorous motion until it spilled over. A hoarse cough followed, hard enough to mist the mirror with specks of white.
What a horrible flavour.
Inspecting the mess on the mirror, it wasn’t long before Sunghoon’s eyes met that of his reflection and that the realisation hit–angry red blotches ran along his jaw, crawling up his fair skinned cheeks like a rash of sorts.
“This cannot be happening,” he murmured in disbelief, immediately scrubbing at his skin with water, hoping it would slide off his face, leaving the crystalline smoothness beneath but to no avail. His skin was even more aggravated now, red and raw from rubbing. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he tried to rationalise.
He was still on sick leave. He had three days left of his week off. There was time to fix this. Surely.
With little options left Sunghoon called the only person that’ll help, or more so , the only person he knew would answer.
⋆˚ʚɞ
“Oh, you weren't kidding,” Jake hissed, as he scrutinised Sunghoon’s face, his finger tracing along his best friend's cheek, where splotches of pink mingled with white. “It’s pretty bad.”
“How did this even happen?” Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he suppressed the urge to scream. He was always so careful with his skin–diligently following the routines the beauty staff had curated for him, avoiding greasy food, and keeping his hormones in check. It had been a good ten years since puberty had so kindly graced him, after all.
Jake gave his cheek one last sympathetic stroke before patting his back gently. “It’s probably stress. You’ve been so busy these days and not to mention…” He trailed off, but his tone made it clear what he was hinting at.
Sunghoon nodded before Jake could finish; he was honestly bored of talking about it now, especially when his career felt like it was hanging in the balance here. Maybe he was being a tad bit dramatic, but to him, it sure felt that way.
“Do you think there’s any way of fixing this between now and Monday?” He asked, his voice heavy with hopelessness. “I mean, I could always call in sick for another week.” Sunghoon looked desperate now, pleading for any guidance Jake could offer him. “But would it even be fixed by then–”
Jake hushed Sunghoon’s panicked ramble, slightly taken aback by how frenzied he sounded. He’d grown far too used to Sunghoon’s composed demeanour that this level of stress felt almost scary. Taking Sunghoon’s hands in his own, Jake mimed a deep breath, encouraging Sunghoon to follow.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jake said firmly, forcing Sunghoon’s eyes to meet his own. “We’ll just go to an esthetician. In fact, I know an amazing one who’ll make short work of your problem.”
“Who?” Sunghoon asked through gritted teeth, his brows furrowed dubiously. He didn’t mean to sound so blunt, but he was too panicked to police his tone.
“His name is Sunoo, and he’s the best of the best, I promise you. He’s saved my ass more times than I can count.”
Sunghoon exhaled deeply, feeling like he might rue this later. “Fine. When do you think he can see me?”
Jake smirked triumphantly, already reaching for his phone. “I’ll just text him real quick. His schedule is usually packed, but I’m sure he can squeeze you in for an emergency appointment.”
“ Emergency?” Sunghoon scoffed, his eyes rolling back dramatically. “It’s hardly like I’m dying.” He tried to brush over the fact he’d been groaning about his career being over not two minutes prior. Jake looked like he was about to remind him so Sunghoon conceded, gesturing for Jake to just send the damn text.
Jake just chuckled at his steely glare, typing out a quick message as he dodged Sunghoon’s half-hearted swats. Not even a second later Jake’s phone buzzed, his grin widening at the message.
“Jeez, Jake, is there more going on between you guys?”
“No. Sunoo is just receptive and not a chronic ghoster, who only messages me when his skin is attacking itself.” Between his pointed tone and hard gaze, Sunghoon knew very well who that last part was aimed at, but still had the audacity to look confused. Still the semblance of a smile lingered on Jake’s face, a little triumphant at what Sunghoon had suggested
Narrowing his eyes, Jake let Sunghoon squirm under his hard gaze before finally putting him out of his misery. “Sunoo says he can fit you in later today. I’ll forward you the details.”
“M’kay,” Sunghoon mumbled grumpily, horrified by the fact everything was falling into place so conveniently, making it impossible for him to come up with any excuses. “It's going to be so awkward though.”
“Trust me, it won’t. Sunoo talks so much you won’t even have time to even feel awkward. Just enjoy it and relax for once please—for your own sake.”
⋆˚ʚɞ
Sunghoon was already regretting agreeing to this. Dressed head to toe in black—a scarf, cap and sunglasses—leaving just a sliver of skin uncovered, he could just about make out the waiting room and its well-preened patrons.
It felt a bit like a book club; their banal chats were filled with passive aggressiveness and pettiness that even usually-catty Sunghoon was too miserable to enjoy.
He could feel their eyes on him despite the copious layers, admiring his silhouette and nudging each other at the sight of the unlikely clientele—Jake might be the only other man who’d ever stepped foot in here by the looks of things.
He tried his best to ignore their gazes, instead settling on an almanac of sorts, filled with horoscopes and affirmations that Sunghoon couldn’t even begin to understand, but apparently he—a sagittarius—was supposed to expect many interesting surprises today.
Great.
Rubbing his fingers along the glossy sheets, he began to jitter, his foot tapping against the linoleum in a steady rhythm. He was growing impatient now, and his nerves were getting harder to keep at bay. He wasn’t really a people-person according to pretty much everyone he’d ever interacted with; he was seldom someone you liked right away, more so an acquired taste.
He just hoped Sunoo liked him enough to help.
“Park Sunghoon-ssi?”
Despite his name being called, Sunghoon felt as though he was the last to look up, the rest of the women perking up in their seats on hearing his name mentioned. Sunghoon cringed as he began to rise to his feet and the blond-haired guy, who he assumed was Sunoo, was already ushering him in.
Sunoo grinned happily at him, his amber eyes meeting his shaded ones with a friendly gleam. Gesturing for the door, he let Sunghoon pass him, smiling politely at the women craning their necks to catch a glimpse.
Sunghoon turned slowly, examining the room—the lights were bright, even more so when he finally slid his sunglasses off. The walls were painted a creamy white, and the furnishings all had accents of dusty pink—the windows even adorned with pink chiffon curtains that served no real purpose other than to flutter prettily.
The air was thickly laden with the smell of jasmine and bergamot making Sunghoon’s nose crinkle as he tried to adjust. At the centre of the room there was a plush table, with pillows and a small throw, presumably where Sunghoon would be lying shortly; given how contrastingly he was dressed, he could already imagine how stupid he’d look.
By the bed there stood a few trolleys, all embellished with gold metal and brimming with an assortment of products. There was a shelving unit on almost every wall, each displaying elaborate flower arrangements as well as glass jars containing cotton buds and pads. Above the table there was a bright lamp and Sunghoon could already anticipate the headache it would give him—so much so, that he considered asking Sunoo to let him keep his shades on after all.
“I’m really sorry about the ladies and all the staring,” Sunoo said brightly, his hands fluttering around his face animatedly. “It definitely wasn’t about your skin, if that's what you’re worried about—but really , there is no reason to be embarrassed, Sunghoon-ssi. Everybody has a breakout from time to time.” Sunoo’s waving hands finally settled, now resting on Sunghoon’s tense shoulders.
“Not me,” Sunghoon replied, not bragging, just plainly honest—he’d never dealt with anything like this; sure his mind could be messy, but his appearance was always pristine—a beauty that the harshities of the world could not touch.
“Well, by the time I’m done with you, you can forget about all of this,” Sunoo matched his honesty, his faith in his skills enough to put Sunghoon slightly at ease. “Anyway, do you mind taking off… whatever you’ve got going on here so I can see what we’re working with.”
Sunghoon was lucky that the thick scarf obscured his reluctant pout, as he unwrapped the fabric, almost like a mummy removing its bandages. He decided that even the appearance of a decomposed mummy’s face would pale in comparison to the monstrosity he was covering up, and Sunoo’s reaction said as much.
The blond sucked in through clenched teeth, hissing softly. “Looks sore.”
“It’s not.” Sunghoon retorted defensively, not so sure why he felt the sudden need to protect the little red spots on his face. “Can you get rid of it or not?”
“Don’t ask silly questions— of course I can . Now do you want my help or not.” Sunoo’s arms were folded across his chest, his eyes fixed on Sunghoon, forcing him to meet his gaze.
⋆˚ʚɞ
Sunoo sighed, pinching at the air in front of him as he tried to compose himself. After a heated back and forth with Sunghoon, he’d finally managed to get the news anchor to lie down. He looked wistfully at the pink robe and headband he had laid out earlier; it had been wishful thinking, really , laying all that out, considering he’d only just about managed to convince Sunghoon to slip off his chunky Chelsea boots and snapback cap.
Using a few metal clips he’d pinned back Sunghoon’s bangs, leaving his forehead exposed and vulnerable. It wasn’t often he had male clients, especially not ones as handsome as Sunghoon, unless you counted Jake. And even if Sunghoon was being a total ass , he still felt slightly amused looking down at his pretty features.
His heart skipped a couple beats when Sunghoon’s eyes shot open, with an accusing glare. “Are you going to start or not, you’re making me nervous.”
Sunoo smiled back, his voice saccharine as he replied. “Of course, Sunghoon-ssi.” Pulling on a pair of plastic gloves with a crisp snap, Sunoo laid out the products on a little tray. Sunghoon watched suspiciously—unfamiliar and on edge.
“Just relax.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever relaxed once in my life.” Sunghoon said breathily, letting his eyelids finally drop. “I’m just in a constant state of controlled stress.” He flinched as Sunoo’s gloved hands brushed his cheeks, the cool cleanser sending chills down his spine, the scent of verbena filling his nose.
Sunoo laughed softly, though he knows Sunghoon isn’t joking. “Is that so?”
Working methodically Sunoo cleansed and toned Sunghoon’s skin, his fingers circling Sunghoon’s delicate features with practiced care. Sunghoon couldn’t say that he was necessarily relaxed, but he was as close as he came to that state.
“Does it feel okay?” Sunoo whispered, his voice steady and tentative. “I know you’re not used to anything like this.”
Sunghoon gave a noncommittal hum, his eyelids fluttering open, as Sunoo brushed a cotton pad across his forehead with one last sweep. “Yeah, like I said, this has never happened before.” His voice was quieter now and less defensive, though he still felt like twitching each time Sunoo dabbed at his cheeks.
Moving onto a cooling mask, Sunoo scooped it onto his fingertips, spreading the product around Sunghoon’s face in a circular motion. “You’re really good at this,” Sunghoon hummed, surprising himself with the softness of his tone.
“Of course I am,” Sunoo laughed back, jokingly indignant. “Have a little faith in me, Sunghoon-ssi.”
Satisfied with his work, Sunoo peeled off his gloves, tossing them in the nearby bin. “Okay, now we let it sit for ten minutes. You can do some meditation if you like, or rumination—that seems like it might be more your style.”
Sunghoon let out a soft scoff, his eyes still pressed shut. “I don’t meditate. Are you really going to make me sit here in silence for ten minutes?”
Sunoo tilted his head to the side, resting the point of his chin on his hand, contemplating, as he studied Sunghoon’s features, still perfect beneath the green smear of aloe vera coating them. “Well,” he dragged out, “Maybe you could tell me what’s bothering you?”
Sunghoon’s eyes snapped open in an instant, meeting Sunoo’s curious gaze. “What makes you think something is bothering me?”
Sunoo looked up, mockingly wracking his brain. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way your skin is breaking out all of a sudden. Or the way you seem so tense. Or—“ he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing—“the fact you’ve been giving me attitude since the moment you walked in—whose anger are you taking out on me?”
Sunghoon wriggled, sinking further into the plush table. “You’re so nosy, you know that?”
“Didn’t Jake-hyung warn you?” Sunoo giggled. “Come on, you’ll feel much better if you talk about it. Doctor’s orders.”
Sunghoon scoffed again, scanning Sunoo up and down. “You are not a doctor.”
“Oh cmon’, just tell me.”
Sunghoon thinks Sunoo is crazy, but then again, he must be crazier for indulging him.
“It’s probably about my ex.” Sunghoon said thickly, his hands fidgeting by his chest. “She broke up with me last week.”
Sunoo raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised—he hadn’t been expecting that of all things.
“She said I was too… distant with her.” Sunghoon continued, the words coming out stiffly, in a way that felt strange and unnatural—he seldom reflected a loud like this—usually a chronic ruminator, as Sunoo had so kindly pointed out.
“She said that I didn’t show her I cared enough, and I guess that was true… I mean I’ve never really been good at that—definitely not in the way she wanted, that’s for sure.”
Sunoo frowned, his fingers drumming at his pouted lips. “What do you mean?”
Sunghoon’s lips spread thin as he tried to word himself. “Well, I don’t react in the way I should, according to her. Like, she’d get me really elaborate gifts, and I’d thank her— of course —but I was never enthusiastic enough. And when I tried to do things for her, it was never right. I’d always get something wrong, or miss the little details that mattered.”
Sunoo scowled, offended on Sunghoon’s behalf. “At least you were trying.”
“That’s the thing,” Sunghoon mumbled, moping. “I was trying—”he laughed sadly—“like trying really damn hard. Last week, I wanted to make our anniversary special. I cooked her favourite dinner. Got her the flowers she likes and a bracelet she’d been wanting. I thought it was what she wanted.”
“That sounds really sweet.” Sunoo’s voice sounds oddly muffled, but Sunghoon is too consumed by his own plight to notice.
“Well I must have got it wrong. Again. She was so disappointed… mad even.”
Sunoo chewed at his lip, hesitating before he spoke. “I’m obviously in no place to speak on your relationship, but do you think she thought you were going to propose? I mean anniversary, special dinner, flowers, jewellery? Maybe she thought you’d got her a ring, and when she realised you hadn’t…”
“Oh my god.” The realisation hit Sunghoon like a semi-truck, as he sat up slightly, almost forgetting about the mask. “You’re right…oh my god, you’re right.”
Sunoo grimaced sympathetically. “That’s not your fault, I mean she was wrong for assuming that? Clearly you weren’t at that stage yet, right?”
Sunghoon slumped back breathlessly, his heart still racing. “Definitely not, we’ve only been together for two years—“ his voice trailed off into a mumbling incoherent mess but Sunoo can catch the gist—“but still, how can you have picked up on that just from hearing the story, while I didn’t even realise. God I’m hopeless.”
“Hey,” Sunoo said softly, placing a steady hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You did your best. If she couldn’t communicate what she wanted, that’s on her— not you.”
Staring hard at the ceiling fixture, Sunghoon tried to digest Sunoo’s words, but he was interrupted by a warm drop on his cheek, followed by another. “What the—“
“Sorry.” Sunoo said with an embarrassed laugh as he rubbed his tears from both their cheeks.
“Why are you crying over me?” Sunghoon can’t help but laugh. Sunoo smiled back sheepishly. “I can’t help it, I’m empathetic, okay? And it sounds like you need someone to care about how you feel too.”
The words settled in his mind slowly, and he couldn’t quite tell how he felt, but something had changed inside him, even if it was just a little.
Still his defensive side hadn’t dropped completely. “Is the therapy part of the treatment too?” he asked, his tone half-teasing.
Sunoo brushed his thumb gently against Sunghoon’s temple, starting to remove the mask. “Not usually, but you seemed like you needed it.”
Sunghoon’s lips twitched up, threatening a smile, though he was not sure why. Maybe it was the way Sunoo was teasing him back, or perhaps it was the care he gave him, that he hadn’t realised he’d been starving for until now. “You’re weird,” he muttered, though there was no malice to it.
“You’re weirder,” Sunoo fired back, undeterred.
After a moment Sunoo’s hand stilled, though he didn’t pull away. “Okay, you’ll need two more sessions over the weekend,” his tone shifted back to professional. “Your skin should be pretty much back to normal by Monday. Even if it’s not perfect, makeup will cover it easily.”
Sunghoon blinked up at him wearily. “You’re sure.”
Sunoo hummed with a nod. “Trust me.”
“Okay, I trust you. And Sunoo-yah?” Sunghoon waited, making sure Sunoo is listening. “Next time we meet, call me hyung.”
⋆˚ʚɞ
“You’re back!”
Sunghoon jolted slightly on hearing Jake’s cheery voice. He was sprawled out on Sunghoon’s cream sofa, looking far too comfortable and pleased with himself. At least he’d managed the decency to kick off his shoes, before propping his feet upon the coffee table.
“How did you even get in?” Sunghoon asked, toeing off his leather boots at the door, almost tripping over, ruining his attempt at an intimidating stance.
Jake grinned back brightly, dangling Sunghoon’s spare key between his fingers proudly. “What use is there in having these, if I don’t use them?” Sunghoon recalls the times Jake dog-sat for him and his ex, mentally cursing himself for forgetting to take his keys back; he hadn’t felt the need, well , not until now at least, when all he wanted was to be left alone.
Sunghoon relented, too tired to bicker. “Remind me to revoke your key privileges. What do you want anyway?”
“ Is it too hard to believe I’m here for you during a hard time? Stop being such a moan and let me comfort you,” Jake gestured for Sunghoon to rest his head on his shoulder but the latter just scoffed.
“Fine. But you’re not spending the night.”Jake raised his brows dubiously, before giving Sunghoon’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, as the latter joined him on the couch. Sunghoon huffed but leaned into Jake’s touch nonetheless. Is this who he’d become—since when was he so easy to read.
Jake leaned back, his arms propped behind his head.“How was your appointment with Sunoo?”
“It was fine,” Sunghoon admitted with a shrug. “He said I’ll need a couple more sessions, but he seemed optimistic about fixing it.”
Jake looked unimpressed, his eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not what I meant… but fine.”
“What were you hoping for Jake?” Sunghoon frowned. “Surely you don’t want me to tell you every single, tiny detail. He cleaned my face, I don’t know the names of half the stuff he used.”
Jake rolled his eyes, looking almost disappointed. “ No, I meant like…Sunoo. Did you talk to him properly?”
“I mean”—(It had been the deepest conversation he’d had in years)—“not really.”
Jake gave him a look, clearly in disbelief. “Not even a little bit?”
“He asked me some questions, and I answered them,” Sunghoon winced a little. “He’s a nice guy, thank you for the recommendation?”— that must be what Jake wanted from him.
“ Nice. That’s all you got from him?” Sunghoon raised his hands in mock defence, still completely lost. “I mean he’s nice— of course— but did you not think he was… like… stunning,“ Jake whispers the last part, leaning in for effect, as though anyone else would be listening to this ‘top-secret’ intel.
Sunghoon blinked slowly, bewildered. “I mean, I didn’t really notice. My eyes were closed for most of it.”
“You are so annoying,” Jake groaned sulkily, clearly wanting Sunghoon’s approval or something.
“Why do you care if I think he’s hot or not?”
Jake hesitated, debating on whether he wanted to share or not, before proceeding with a sheepish grin. “Okay. Sunoo and I have been friends for a while. And I think… Maybe he’s someone I’d want to get to know on a more intimate level. Like intimate intimate—“
“Okay, okay. I get what you mean you don’t have to keep— never mind.”
Jake slapped his arm with a sigh. “I just need you to give me a hand. Can you talk me up to him a little?”
“What, like a wingman?” Sunghoon asked flatly, unimpressed. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Yes, but just don’t make it weird… or just be less weird than you usually are— please,” Jake pressed his palms together, his bottom lip involuntarily jutting out.
Sunghoon let out an exasperated sigh, letting his head fall back in dismay. Jake practically had a new crush every single week—each more deranged than the last. The first one was a barista called Heeseung who kept calling him Jack— Jake was so committed he had considered legally changing his name because “ it was practically the same anyway, so who cares?”
Then it was the florist, Jay, who always seemed irritated whenever Jake walked into his shop. According to Jake, Jay’s point blank refusal to give him a discount was some romantic prelude—“ an enemies to lovers arc.” And when Jay had bluntly told him he could “ get out if he didn’t like the prices ,” Jake claimed it was just banter.
Honestly, Sunghoon had to admire the commitment— that being said , he would not be dragged into this delusion.
“Not a chance, pal,” Sunghoon patted him on the back.
⋆˚ʚɞ
Despite Sunghoon’s strong resolve to avoid being roped into Jake’s scheme, here he was the very next day, sitting in the reception of Sunoo’s clinic, clutching a post-it Jake had insisted he follow. It was covered in messy scrawl with bullet points like ‘drop that i’ve been hitting the gym more lately’ and ‘make sure he knows i sorted the cold sore problem’.
Sighing, Sunghoon crumpled up the list, shoving it in the pocket of his puffer jacket. “What a weirdo,” he muttered under his breath.
Just as he was debating whether to accidentally lose the list in the nearby bin, the door to the treatment room swung open. Sunoo walked out, beaming at him like an old friend.
“Hyung, you’re early!” Sunoo crowed, surprise evident in his tone. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you away yesterday. You can come in—everything’s prepped and ready for you.”
Sunghoon stood up awkwardly, feeling very flustered all of a sudden, the joints in his legs seemingly melting into a trembling mess. “Uh, sure,” he spluttered, glancing towards the receptionist for assurance. She looked up briefly, offering a wince that confirmed Sunghoon looked just as awkward as he felt.
When he stepped into the room for his second session, something about it already felt different. As much as he hated to admit, Jake’s words lingered in his mind, and now he found himself hyper-aware of everything, as Sunoo guided him through the door.
“Your skin already looks heaps better,” Sunoo hummed melodically as he closed the door behind them. “God, I’m good at my job.”
Sunghoon knows he’s half joking but he finds himself nodding, his lips spread in a boxy smile.
This time, he took his boots off unprompted, even briefly considering the pink robe hanging on the wall for him. Sunoo waited patiently for him to settle on the table before coming closer again.
Sunghoon tried his very best to focus on the tools Sunoo was arranging, or the faint scent of lavender and rosemary in the air, anything to avoid meeting the blond’s gaze.
But then Sunoo leaned in closer to him, pinning Sunghoon’s dark bangs back with clips again—this time they were adorned with little Pochacco motifs. As Sunoo’s hands roamed the planes of his face, Sunghoon couldn’t help but notice how pretty his features were up close. Jake’s words echoed in his mind, and annoyingly, he had to admit Jake was right. Sunoo was hot.
Suddenly Jake sounded a lot like Sunoo, his voice breaking through Sunghoon’s thoughts. “Hyung, you’re staring,” he teased, clearly amused.
Sunghoon felt the heat in his cheeks before he could even react. “Am not.”
“You totally are,” Sunoo fired back with a smug grin, before stepping back to grab some cleanser. “It’s okay, though. I’m flattered, really.”
Sunghoon cleared his throat gruffly, closing his eyes to save him from this embarrassment. “Just do what you need to do.”
Sunoo laughed, and the sound that came out was wonderfully soothing. “Just relax hyung. Yesterday, I cried all over you. We’re over the embarrassing bits… I hope?”
As Sunoo got to work, Sunghoon found himself peeking up at him—the furrow of his brows in concentration, the way the tip of his tongue peeked out through his glossed lips, the way he tucked stray strands of Sunghoon’s hair between his ears for him. It all felt carefully calculated.
”Does it feel okay?” Sunoo asked, as he stroked softly at Sunghoon’s cheek.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon mumbled, barely audible. “It’s good.”
Sunoo’s eyes flickered down, as he searched Sunghoon’s gaze in a way that made the latter feel a little too perceived. On seeing him watching, again , Sunoo smiled down at him, making his chest twist uncomfortably, knocking the wind out of him.
He just had to hold out hope that Jake would drop his Sunoo agenda by next week, because there was no way in hell he was telling the esthetician about how Jake, ‘scored a hat trick in his Sunday league match,’ mid facial.
“Do you want to talk about something?” Sunoo whispered, his focus, not once breaking from the patterns he was methodically rubbing into Sunghoon’s skin. “It's too quiet.”
Sunghoon tried to shrug, but his body had practically melted into the table, so he settled for a noncommittal hum. “Sure, what do you want to talk about?”
Sunoo’s hands left his face, the younger one sitting back to think. “Tell me more about you… but maybe something happier this time. I have very little dignity left after yesterday, but I'd like to keep it if that’s okay with you. Tell me what you like?”
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes as he tried to think—there weren't a lot of things he liked at the moment. “Something I like?” He repeated slowly, stalling .
“Yeah,” Sunoo said, as he sweeped a toner-soaked cotton pad across his forehead. “Like…something that makes you happy. Tell me about something you love—once you start, it’ll be easy.”
Sunghoon hesitation for a moment, before the corners of his lips twitched up fondly. “Well there is my puppy. Gaeul. She’s a little toy poodle, and she’s pretty cute, I guess.”
“Aw,” Sunoo said animatedly, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Sounds so cute. Tell me about her.”
Sunghoon didn’t need much encouragement, gushing out a detailed description, his voice sounding so far from his usual somber tone. He talked about the way she slept in his bed every night, barked excitedly whenever they passed the duck pond on their morning walk, and even the little pink striped pyjamas he’d bought her to match his.
“She’s like your little baby, huh?” Sunoo’s smile widened.
Sunghoon felt his cheeks flush at the phrasing, but he nodded—a little stiffly, but a nod nonetheless.
“You’ll have to bring her tomorrow—I want to meet the cutie.”
That made Sunghoon’s smile falter, his chest tightening as he remembered, reality kicking in. “I don’t know about that…” his voice came out all hoarse.
“Why not?” Sunoo frowned sulkily.
Sunghoon gnawed at his lip, trying his best to maintain his composure. “My ex took her with her when we broke up. I don’t think I’ll see her again.”
“Oh.”
The room fell stiffly silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Closing his eyes, Sunghoon tried his best to compose himself, but the back of his throat was starting to ache dully and his ears were starting to ring. Before he could stop them, ugly salty tears came, pushing past his thick lashes in unrelenting streams. He tried to inhale but it sounded all wrong, and the resulting exhale was far too close to a sob for his liking.
“Hyung…” Sunoo’s voice was far too soft and distant to reach him. His senses reached overdrive as he curled in on himself, his hands shakily cupping his face as he tried to stifle the mess from escaping.
He tried to apologise but between the tears and his hands being in the way, it came out all wrong. This was mortifying .
He could feel the faint trace of Sunoo’s hands, stroking his hair, but it all felt so far away and too unfamiliar to ground him. Saying it aloud had broken something in him, and now there was no defence system to stop the sobs wracking through him.
It wasn’t even about Gaeul anymore. Everything he’d suppressed was just bubbling out—the breakup, the constant stress, and now the gnawing loneliness he’d once easily ignored.
Blindly grasping at the tissues Sunoo pressed into his hands, Sunghoon rubbed aimlessly at his face, but the tears came faster than he could wipe.
“It’s okay,” Sunoo’s voice finally reached him. “Take your time.”
And for the first time in a while, Sunghoon felt like maybe, just maybe , he could.
⋆˚ʚɞ
Sunghoon hadn’t felt this type of ache in a long time. Somehow, between his pitiful sobs—the strained little gasps and hiccups—he’d manage to follow Sunoo into a small room. It was presumably where Sunoo took his breaks: a well-lit lounge with an upholstered sofa that looked like it had been crafted from a patchwork quilt.
Sunoo had pressed a warm mug into his shaky palms, alongside a packet of menthol tissues. Sunghoon tried to take a few appreciative sips of the milky chai, but his stomach still lurched with nausea, embarrassment festering in his chest so deliberately that he worried his insides might collapse from the weight.
He could feel his face, sticky with tears and snot, undoing all of Sunoo’s hard work. But Sunoo didn’t seem to mind; he was preoccupied with Sunghoon’s hair, his fingers running through it soothingly. Sunghoon knew he should say something, but it was the type of silence that had been left to linger too long—the kind that demanded a proper end, not a few incoherent babbles, which was about all he could muster right now.
There was no defence for his outburst; he himself had no idea why it happened. He’d been fine—he’d been dealing with it—until he wasn’t.
Sunoo’s fingers paused briefly in Sunghoon’s hair—like he could feel Sunghoon’s panicked thoughts through his fingertips—before moving again, a little softer now. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you know,” he said carefully, his voice just above a whisper. “Sometimes things just pile up.”
“It’s just—I don't usually get like this. Sorry.” Sunghoon tried to swallow, but his throat was all dry, making his voice croak.
Sunoo huffed amusedly, thumbing at Sunghoon’s chin so that their bleary eyes met. “You don’t have to apologise. Trust me . And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll cry too.”
Sunghoon was almost sure he was joking, but he could already make out the formation of tears along Sunoo’s lash line, just waiting for permission. He let himself laugh, even managing a genuine smile.
“I’m usually good at holding myself together,” Sunghoon admitted, pausing to take a sip from his brimming mug. “I think I was long overdue for a breakdown like this.”
Sunoo hummed in understanding, tipping his head to one side, clearly heavy with thoughts. “For what it’s worth, holding it together is overrated. Letting yourself fall apart and feel every little emotion—till you’re ruined —is the only real way to make a fresh start. You can’t build a strong home on shaky foundations.”
Sunghoon blinked slowly, his lashes clinging together, Sunoo’s words resonating in his mind. “So what do I do? If I want to start over, how do I even begin?” He tried not to sound too desperate, but he didn’t want Sunoo to think for one second that his advice would go to waste on him.
Sunoo shifted slightly, his hands retreating to his lap to give Sunghoon a bit more space. “It really depends on what you feel ready for right now,” Sunoo eased out each word gently. “And that’s the best part— you can decide. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just start with something small and manageable. Take it one little step at a time, and build the kind of life that feels good for you.”
“And let someone help,” Sunoo added after a pause, his voice veering on teasing. “That’s the most important part. Let someone help you with the pieces after you unceremoniously crumble. The kind of people who don’t care if they’re seeing you broken and in bits. The ones you don’t need to act for.”
He raised his eyebrows at the last part like he was questioning himself, testing the advice he was giving as it came out.
Sunghoon sighed breathily, his gaze falling to the floor. “The only person I have like that—that I trust like that—is Jake.” He let out a saddened chuckle. “And even then, I don’t know if I can let him help like that. It's not that he wouldn’t want to. I just don’t think I’d let him.”
“Jake is a good friend—he’s been good to me too. I know he’d help. But I get where you’re coming from,” Sunoo said. “And I hope you know…I don’t mean to overstep or seem presumptuous, but…” For the first time, Sunoo seemed nervous, fidgeting with his sleeves. “I think I’ve seen you at your lowest, hyung. Or at least a pretty raw version of you. And for what it’s worth, I want to be someone you can trust too.”
Sunghoon’s throat tightened, not quite sure what to say. “I’m not very good at that. Trusting people.”
“That’s okay,” Sunoo said simply. “But if you need someone—whether it’s to talk, eat, or even cry some more…”
“You say that like it's simple. Like if I called you up, it wouldn’t be weird.”
“It can be that simple. And when are we not weird Sunghoon-ssi? I mean, we’ve just spent the past half hour crying together. It just happened, because it’s simple—You’re sad and I’m here.”
Sunoo reached into the pocket and pulled out a pen and a minute notepad, scribbling something down. Tearing off the piece of paper, his brows furrowed with concentration, he handed it to Sunghoon.
“My number,” Sunoo explained when Sunghoon gave him a confused look. “Use it if you want. No pressure.”
Sunghoon stared at the paper like it was foreign, before finally taking it, his fingers brushing against Sunoo’s briefly. He folded it carefully in half and slipped it into his pocket.
“Thanks.”
And he meant it.
Sunoo smiled again, the kind that made his eyes crescent and his cheeks flush. “You're welcome. Now finish your tea before it gets cold , and then I can finish up with your skin.”
⋆˚ʚɞ
A painful stitch twisted in Sunghoon’s side as he struggled to match Jake’s pace. His appointment with Sunoo had finished early enough in the day, which, unfortunately, meant he’d make it just in time for Jake’s morning jog. With new beginnings on his mind—or perhaps just a lack of better judgement—he decided to join his best friend.
It wasn’t like he was unfit by any means. Sure, he’d taken a two week break from the gym, but cardio had never been his forte anyway.
Fighting to overcome the uneven puffs of his breath, he tried to converse with Jake, who seemed annoyingly unaffected by the pace.
“This is going to ruin my skin,” Sunghoon moaned, swiping at a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I hate this.”
“Your skin looks great—maybe even better than before,” Jake reassured, craning his neck to survey Sunghoon’s flushed face. “The sweat makes it look… dewy? Is that what it’s called.”
Rolling his eyes, Sunghoon sped up to catch Jake, whose energy and speed resembled that of an excitable puppy—veering off course, stopping to chat to strangers, and occasionally spinning on the spot. His unpredictability was starting to tire Sunghoon out.
“You know—”Sunghoon managed to puff out between gasps. “You haven’t mentioned Sunoo this whole time. I thought you’d want to know everything.”
He tried not to sound offended on Sunoo’s behalf, or worse, affected by Jake’s lack of interest. His mind was begging to pour out his thoughts on Sunoo, and boy, there were lots.
Jake let out a light laugh, gesturing for Sunghoon to follow as he turned towards the park's exit. Once they passed through the ornate wrought-iron gates, Jake relaxed into a walk, finally showing signs of exertion as he plopped onto a nearby bench.
“Well, that’s honestly what I wanted to bring up,” Jake admitted with a grin, clearly pleased with the information he was sitting on. “You don’t have to worry about the whole Sunoo thing anymore. I’m over it.”
Sunghoon's heart dropped, his smile faltering before he quickly covered it with a hand. “Oh—what do you mean? You seemed pretty sure yesterday.”
He called Jake’s bluff yesterday, but still, he felt sad. A part of him had been rooting for Jake and Sunoo. If they’d ended up dating, Sunghoon would see Sunoo every other day, and he knew that was what he needed most.
Jake ducked his head, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Sunoo’s great—amazing, actually. It’s just…” He ran a hand through his unruly hair, clearly pacing himself to deliver his exciting news. “You remember Lee Heeseung, right?”
How could Sunghoon forget? His bank account still ached from all the overpriced Americanos he’d had to purchase, since Jake insisted on dragging him to the cafe Heeseung worked at. Every. Single. Day.
“Well, he messaged me on Instagram,” Jake continued, his voice teetering between casual and triumphant. “Turns out he was interested all along. We’re getting drinks next week.”
Sunghoon brows lifted in surprise. “Oh really?”
Jake leaned back with his hands behind his head, his ego soaring. “Yeah. Guess I just had to put myself out there.”
“You mean act desperate,” Sunghoon teased, but there was no bite behind his words, only teasing.
Jake feigned offence, but his grin failed to fall. “I don’t think it’s so shameful to put myself out there— or to act desperate,” Jake mimed air quotes with his fingers. His voice softened as he leaned in. “I let him in, Hoon. Maybe that’s something you should try next time, too.”
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “She did love you, you know? And I’m not saying you’re in the wrong for not loving her back—because she treated you awfully, Hoon. She really did. But you never let her see the real you. You just went along with everything she said, hoping she wouldn’t figure out you weren’t the person she thought you were. Maybe if you’d shown her who you were from the start, you both could have saved yourselves a world of pain.”
Sunghoon exhaled slowly, pushing himself to his feet as they began walking again. “Sunoo said something similar, actually.”
Jake perked up, glancing sideways at him. “Oh really? What did he say?”
“He said I needed to be more honest with people, even if that means being vulnerable. He made it sound nicer than that, though,” Sunghoon admitted reluctantly. “Apparently, it’s better to show people who you really are, instead of letting them assume.”
“Good advice,” Jake nodded. “Like I said—Sunoo’s amazing.”
Sunghoon playfully prodded Jake, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Let’s just get coffee. You’re treating me.”
When they reached the café, Sunghoon wasn’t surprised to find it was the one Heeseung worked at. Of course, Jake would choose this place. Predictable.
Inside, Sunghoon hung back, choosing a table by the window. He watched as Jake approached the counter with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jake tried to act confident, but his clumsiness was quick to betray him—he knocked over a stack of napkins, stumbled over his words, and practically eye-fucked Heeseung the entire time.
Sunghoon groaned softly, covering his face with his hands, bracing himself for the inevitable secondhand embarrassment. But to his surprise, Heeseung didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seemed endeared—his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled fondly at Jake.
Sunghoon found himself reevaluating. Jake was putting himself out there in all his weird glory, and Heeseung liked it. No . Heeseung reciprocated it. Maybe Sunoo and Jake were right. Letting people in wasn’t necessarily a mistake.
When Jake returned to the table with their drinks, he was glowing, squealing about his exchange with Heeseung in excruciating detail. And Sunghoon listened, nodding along at all the right moments, even smiling.
It really could be that easy.
⋆˚ʚɞ
“See you tomorrow!” Jake gave Sunghoon a tight hug before stepping back with a small wave, leaving him standing at the foot of his building. The heat of Jake’s embrace lingered on his skin, and was quickly replaced by a cool gust of wind, stripping the warmth from the early summer air. Despite the chill and the painful prickle of goosebumps under his skin, Sunghoon made no move to go inside. Going inside meant sitting with his thoughts, alone–thoughts he desperately needed to avoid
Today had quite literally stripped his skin bare, peeling back the layers he’d so carefully constructed to keep those feelings buried. Now, the loneliness he’d dismissed as a recent problem was clawing its way to the surface. It wasn't new, he realised–it had always been there, lying dormant, hidden beneath the noise of stress and distractions, waiting for a moment to unceremoniously divulge itself. And now, Jake was gone, and the silence was starting to ache.
Then came the idea.
Sunoo’s number was in his pocket, burning a hole, begging him to set his pride aside. Begging him to use it. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door, catching the outlined frown on his lips. He looked as exposed as he felt, meek and pale, almost translucent from the cold–so perceivable and pathetic. Shoving his numb hands into his pockets, he felt the paper crinkle against his fingertips.
He pulled it out finally, staring at the numbers like there was some hidden code to them, a way of answering his plight without having to call. Sunoo’s words from earlier echoed in his mind, words said so casually, like he wasn’t asking Sunghoon for something he didn’t know how to give.
What was he even supposed to say? Would Sunoo even answer? And if he did, what then? What would Sunghoon have left for himself if he let all these thoughts spill out, only to be met with misunderstanding, or worse, indifference? The risk felt enormous. But wasn't he letting himself crumble, like Sunoo suggested?
It was time to take risks for once.
Before he could overthink it, his fingers moved, adding the number.
hey, it’s Sunghoon
He stared at the message, debating if he should delete it but it was too late. Delivered 13:08. Read 13:08.
oh heyyy hyung. what's up?
just been thinking. you said some stuff earlier about being honest
still thinking about me. did i get to u that bad?
maybe. or maybe you were annoyingly right
ofc i was right. i'm always right
don’t get too big headed
too late :P but seriously, are u ok?
The question lingered on his screen, and he didn't really have an answer. Despite how many replies he tried, none of them quite fit. He decided on the simplest version of the truth.
not really
do u want to talk about it?
don't know what to say
that's ok. u dont have to. do u want some company?
Did he?
I think so.
ok let me finish up, i have a few more clients, but i can come over after!
thank you
anytime hyung
Sunghoon clutched his phone to his chest; the thought that Sunoo would be there for him in a matter of hours was what he had needed most right now.
Minutes later, Sunghoon stepped into his apartment, the familiar silence welcoming him, but not scaring him, its end now tangible. He usually liked to take his time but he didn't have any right now, and so he rushed: cleaning the dishes in the sink, throwing the garments strewn over the floor into the laundry basket, fluffing pillows, wiping down the surfaces. It wasn't the mess gone, but it felt lighter now, the room finally breathable. He’d made space, in hopes that something more comforting could fill it.
⋆˚ʚɞ
When Sunoo arrived, food in hand and a smile so wide it touched both cheeks, Sunghoon couldn’t bring himself to say a word. There was a simple comfort in him being there, as if his presence spoke enough to fill the silence. He let Sunoo take the lead, nodding along when Sunoo admired the details of his apartment–things Sunghoon had never really spared a second thought, but that now felt somehow prettier since Sunoo noticed them.
Sunghoon didn't feel he needed to speak, not when that would mean interrupting Sunoo’s words, which felt so vibrant to him. And then Sunoo talked about his parents—pained by never feeling good enough, by pursuing things he loved that didn't meet their expectations, by the rejection from those who were meant to offer unconditional love. Sunghoon felt it in the depth of his bones, the marrow aching with resonance and silent understanding.
Sunoo spoke about his sister, and the way she’d paid for his education when his parents wouldn’t. He let Sunoo brag about how he’d paid her back and then some, because it was something worth bragging about.
He let himself fall for him a little more, more because he knew deep down, he’d already started. It had begun the moment Sunoo gave him permission to fall apart into his hands. He’d let himself crumble, block after block, until there was nothing left but the remnants of the person he’d hated being. And now he was starting from scratch, little by little, building himself up from strong foundations this time.
He wanted to say that. To let Sunoo know. To let Sunoo see him lying bare–every sharp edge and hidden flaw–and still accept him. He wanted to let Sunoo in, let him touch his prickliest corners, his ugliest crevices, smoothing them over, making him whole. Sunghoon didn't want to be anything but what he was, and he wished he didn't need to pretend to be stronger than he felt. But he couldn't speak.
He couldn't tell Sunoo he felt a little more in love with him tonight, because he couldn't speak.
Sunoo looked at Sunghoon, eyes wide and glowing as he took him in. “Honestly, your skin looks better already,” he brushed his thumb over Sunghoon’s smoothing skin. “Guess it must have just been a little flare-up. Honestly, I don't think you even need to see me tomorrow as long as you get a good night's sleep. Then you can enjoy your last day off properly! Oh, and then I can see you on TV on Monday.”
Sunghoon needed to say something–to ask Sunoo to see him again. But there was still that deep, aching silence in him, one he wasn't strong enough to break just yet. This house, the one he was slowly building, needed to be sturdier before he could hang the pretty furnishings and call it home.
His heart thumped steadily, as he nodded, offering Sunoo a quiet “Thank you.”
It was all he could manage, but that’s all Sunoo wanted of him.
“We should see each other again sometime,” Sunoo smiled gently, but Sunghoon knew it wasn’t the kind of invitation that stuck. It was a passing comment at best, something said easier without the weight of intention, a wistful hope.
When Sunoo got up to leave, he’d given Sunghoon a quick hug and grabbed his bag. Sunghoon stood there, watching him, feeling like the space around him had shifted a little. It wasn't anything obvious, but Sunoo had let his love spill out in his small gestures and steady gaze, leaving a little glowing warmth in Sunghoon’s apartment.
Then Sunoo stepped out of the door, letting in a breezy evening draught, and yet the warmth still lingered, like he had not yet left.
⋆˚ʚɞ
Sunoo was good at his job, but that went without saying–or at least, the glowing reviews he received spoke for him. But it wasn't just the stunning results he produced or the meticulous precision with which he worked that left people with such a good impression.
Sunoo knew from a very young age that he felt things more intensely than everyone else. He knew from the way he cried at movies, how his heart fell before his head, and the ache of empathy he felt for everyone he had crossed paths with.
And so, when clients let him in, he flourished, tending to them like they were unkempt flowers–so close to beauty, but just missing that little ounce of T.L.C. That being said, he had his boundaries, when the session ended, he could let go. Sure, they left with a sliver of his love but his heart had fortified enough to share.
But with Sunghoon, it was different. There was no boundary to maintain, no shield needed. It was a pull that went deeper than mere attraction, an obligation to help, like his heart recognised the broken fragments of Sunghoon’s. Letting him go last night, even knowing it couldn't be the end for them, was hard. Now, all Sunoo could do was place his trust in Sunghoon and his healing heart, hoping he would find his way back to him.
Still, Sunoo made it easy for him. He gave him his number, visited his apartment, leaving behind a lifeline with enough pull for Sunghoon to reach out when he was ready.
But for all his virtues, Sunoo could be selfish too. And so when a lifeline of his own presented itself to him, he couldn't help but pull.
He'd been preening the flowers in the reception, when she walked in, organising them so that the bluebells and baby’s-breath cascaded over the sides of the vases, pouring beauty. Her presence went unnoticed at first, and Sunoo didn’t lift his gaze until he heard her voice–soft and hesitant.
“Hi, I have an appointment for a manicure?”
He looked up, offering his usual smile. There was something about the way she stood–deliberate and practised–that she was carrying a burden too heavy to hide. Still, she was pretty, and Sunoo could sense a vibrant beauty beneath her glum face–a beauty momentarily paused, like that of someone mourning.
Sunoo quickly nodded, motioning for her to join him in the back. “Right this way.”
As she followed, his eyes dropped to the small white toy poodle nestled in her arms. He recalled the dog Sunghoon had talked of so fondly, eerily similar to this one. The white fur and placid nature, the memory struck him but then again, Sunghoon had been filling his every thought, it was probably just him projecting.
The woman settled into the chair across from him with a meek smile. Her hands trembled as she placed her dog gently on the floor. From where he sat, Sunoo could see the pup’s collar glinting under the bright lights, a familiar name etched into the silver tag. When he took her hand to begin, they felt so cold and tense, only relaxing slightly when he placed them on the cushioned surface.
Sunoo kept his expression calm and welcoming, despite the thoughts spiralling in his head. It was driving him crazy, the silence between them making the connection he’d just made all the more exasperating. He should have been relieved not having to talk, especially when his mind was fixated on one thing, and one thing only. But by the looks of it, they both had the same person on their mind.
“Let me know if it hurts,” Sunoo said softly, as he began to work on her cuticles. ( Let me know if it hurts to leave him. Let me know if it hurts without him. Let me know if it hurts because of him.) Her fingers remained still, her eyes flickered down to the white fluff by her side, as if to make sure Gaeul hadn’t wandered off.
For a while, the only sounds were the soft clink of Sunoo’s tools, and the faint lapping of water as Gaeul drank from the bowl he’d set out. The air felt heavy, her unspoken thoughts seeping out and sucking the energy out of the room, since their previous host had none left to give.
He tried the usual small talk, but her responses were no more than polite hums or murmurs, clearly meant to please rather than engage. Sunoo’s heart was beginning to ache for her. Time could heal, sure, but it was sad to see someone so hollowed out by heartbreak.
He glanced up briefly, catching her eyes. She hastily looked away, her gaze once again shifting to the dog by her feet, who was now curled up, oblivious to her owner’s turmoil. The woman pressed her lips together, biting the inside of her cheek as if willing herself to stay quiet .
After a long pause, Sunoo leaned in, his voice warm and reassuring. “Are you okay?”
She let out a slow, measured exhale, as though she’d been holding her breath for too long. Her shoulders sagged as she toyed with the idea of opening up
“I broke up with my boyfriend last week,” she said plainly, her voice soft but unwavering. “I'd thought I’d feel a lot better by now.” She let out a small, bitter laugh, twisting the rings on her fingers. “I know it was the right thing to do. But it hurts more than I thought it would. Would I go back to him?– hell no. But I just wish I felt sure. Like, really sure, you know? I’m just holding out for proof that I did the right thing.”
Sunoo nodded, his hand taking hold of hers again, as he began to file. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, offering comfort if she wanted it.
“It’s okay to feel like that,” he said softly. “Doing the right thing doesn't always make it feel right, not at first. You know what you need–distance, a fresh start–but that doesn’t make it easier. Especially when it means you have to handle it alone.”
She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching in his grasp. “It’s worse because he didn't even do anything wrong. It’s not like he cheated, or lied, or hurt me. He just wasn’t right for me. And so I feel like the bad guy for leaving him. Part of me wants to go back, just to apologise, and make it feel like normal again. But I know he wasn’t right for me and nothing he’ll do will change that.”
She paused, her voice faltering as she continued. “And I took his dog… I can't believe I took his dog. I thought at the time I was doing it to hurt him. But really, I just wanted a piece of him to hold onto. Something to keep.”
Sunoo gnawed at his lip, silently praying his judgement wasn’t clouded.
“Maybe,” he began cautiously, “do you think that by holding onto that piece of him, you're also holding onto the pain. It might hurt a lot to say goodbye for good, but isn't that better than dragging out the ache? Sometimes letting go fully is the kindest thing you can do. Both for him and yourself.”
Her lips trembled, and she nodded slowly, her eyes finally filling with tears. “I thought about that. Giving Gaeul back. But I don't think I can face him. I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“You don't have to say anything,” Sunoo said gently. “ I think the sentiment of giving her back is enough.”
“But even just seeing him again–” she rubbed away her tears, her head shaking in a firm no. “I can't do it.”
“Maybe, you don’t have to face him.” Sunoo said as he met her eyes, willing her to listen.
“What do you mean,” she sniffled, gratefully pulling a soft tissue from the box Sunoo had handed her.
“I mean,” he glanced down at Gaeul, who wagged her tail happily. “I could always help. If you're really not ready to face him, I could bring her back for you.”
“You’d do that?” She asked, a glimpse of hope in her voice.
Sunoo nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Of course. Sometimes we need a little help letting go. And honestly, I think he’d be so happy to see Gaeul again, he won’t care who brings her.”
“But I can’t send you there with no explanation– can i?” she blinked fast, strands of hair falling in her face.
Sunoo reached for his notepad and pen, sliding them towards her. “If you want to write a message, I’ll make sure he gets it. And his address too–so I know where to take her.”
She hesitated, glancing between Gaeul and the notepad, before finally picking up the pen, her hand shaking as she wrote.
Sunoo busied himself finishing up her other hand, giving her the space she needed. When she was done she folded the note in 4, until it made a neat little square. She handed it to him along with a quiet, “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” Sunoo smiled. “You’re the one who's doing the brave thing.”
“Thank you for being kind. Kinder than I deserve right now,” she let her gaze fall to Gaeul, who yipped happily. “I just hope she’ll be happy.”
“She will be,” Sunoo assured her. “And so will you. This is the hardest part, remember?”
As she gave the pup one last goodbye, Sunoo felt his heart swell. He didn’t know what he’d say to Sunghoon, but he knew for certain that this was a step towards healing for both of them.
⋆˚ʚɞ
Sunghoon lay sprawled in his bed, the dim glow of his bedside lamp casting shadows along the ceiling. He hadn’t made great use of the day off—he’d laid here all day, his thoughts caught in an unrelenting loop. He wasn't angry with himself anymore—he was learning to be kinder to himself—but he couldn’t help regret not taking Sunoo’s loose invitation, not grasping at the chance when it was right there.
The sharp thrill of the doorbell jolted him out of his spiral. 18:37. Probably Jake, coming over to pester him again—not that he’d complain about that anymore. Dragging himself out of bed, he rubbed his face as he shuffled toward the door.
“Sunoo?”
Sunghoon froze. He instantly felt self-conscious of the way he looked—barefoot, dressed in a faded hoodie and sweatpants, looking far less put together than the polished news anchor he’d promised Sunoo he’d see on TV. But none of that mattered now.
Sunoo stood on his doorstep, cradling a dog—no, his dog—in his arms. The little toy poodle squirmed excitedly on seeing him.
“I believe this belongs to you,” Sunoo said, handing Gaeul over.
Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat as he took her in his arms, holding her close as though he was afraid to let go. He couldn’t help it; tears spilled over as he buried his face in her fur, the familiar scent now overwhelming.
“How did you even—?” Sunghoon looked up, his face a mix of gratitude and confusion. Sunoo shifted awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting with a little slip of paper.
“Your ex came to me for a manicure. She seemed pretty down. I recognised Gaeul, and put the pieces together from there. She felt awful, Sunghoon—really awful. She felt so guilty about taking Gaeul…she wanted to give her back, just didn’t know how. She asked me to give you this.”
Sunoo handed the small folded note to Sunghoon, who opened it slowly, taking in the apology.
For a long moment, he just stared at Sunoo, and Sunoo began to think he’d misstepped. But before he could process it, Sunghoon surged forward, cupping his face and kissing him.
It was abrupt and messy, leaving Sunoo wobbling in Sunghoon’s hold as he struggled to stay on his feet. It wasn’t perfect—they’d skipped so many steps—but growth can be exponential, and somehow this felt right.
When Sunghoon pulled back, he looked almost dazed. “Thank you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere.
Sunoo smiled, his lips tingling. “For the dog?”
“For everything,” Sunghoon said.
Gaeul barked, tugging at his joggers, and Sunghoon laughed, the sound warm and unadulterated. Reluctantly, he let go of Sunoo to scoop her up, cradling her like a baby.
Sunoo watched him fondly, his chest thudding from the rush. He didn’t say anything when Sunghoon looked back at him, smiling like Sunoo had given him the world. He knew, time healed, but so did people. Maybe Sunghoon was ready for him after all.
“Stay for a bit?” Sunghoon asked hastily, like the words might disappear if he didn’t get them out.
“Sure,” Sunoo teased. “You owe me dinner now. And a proper kiss.”