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Cha Joohan is not a gentle person.
He sits on his knees, unconcerned that the grass below him might stain his jeans. Hand outstretched, he calls out to the stray cat that he’s been feeding for the past few weeks.
The orange striped tabby fixes him with an aloof stare, playing at nonchalance before picking his way over to Joohan. The cat headbutts against Joohan’s palm and he smiles, scratching the top of his head, behind his ears.
Correction, Cha Joohan can be gentle, just not to other people.
He shifts, sitting crosslegged and the cat shies away for a moment before coming even closer.
Gentleness is something that Joohan associates with Bom, with Wooyeon. Knowing just what to say and how to say it kindly, it’s not something that he could imitate even if he tried.
The cat climbs onto his lap, purring so loudly that he sounds more like a motorcycle than a tiny, compact feline. He begins kneading on Joohan’s leg, claws like little pinpricks as they stab even through the thick denim of his jeans. But that’s just how a cat’s affection is, grooming with sandpaper tongues until your skin feels rough and raw, play bites from kittens’ needle teeth, and many, many scratches crisscrossing over your hands and arms.
And maybe that’s not so different from the shape that Joohan’s own affection takes. Maybe he can’t love without covering those he cares about in little wounds.
Joohan knows that he’s wasting time, loitering in the park outside his apartment instead of just heading in. He also knows from the glow past the blinds of a third story window that Wooyeon is already home.
It's sometime past seven in the evening and the sky is a dusty orange. The days are beginning to lengthen. Almost sardonically, Joohan thinks to himself, spring is here .
His hand must have stilled, no longer providing scritches of a sufficient caliber, because the tabby hops off his lap - claws digging in for leverage - and struts away, disinterested.
There's no avoiding it, and now Joohan gets to his own feet. He slaps at his knees, dusting off the broken bits of grass that cling to his dark grey jeans.
The way he spoke to Seollem today was wrong, probably. The way he spoke to Wooyeon was wrong, definitely. But without Bom to help smooth down his rough edges, to help him shape the form an apology should take…when Bom was here…
It's not as if the murky feeling he's carried deep within his chest was any clearer or lighter when Bom was here.
He steps off the grass and back onto the thin strip of sidewalk that winds its way up towards the apartment building.
But if Bom were here, it might have been easier. To blunt his fangs, to tuck away his claws. To not hurt Wooyeon, because there isn't any avoiding it, not anymore.
He steps inside the elevator, presses the button for the third floor. As the elevator rises, so does his frustration. Whether it's at himself, or at Wooyeon, or even at Seollem, he doesn’t know. If Joohan was honest with himself, then he's frustrated at all three. At Seollem who is stubborn and persistent and refuses to forget his brother, but also won't stop looking at Wooyeon with those hopeful eyes. At Wooyeon who doesn't seem to understand that his kindness can be read as affection, or maybe doesn't care if it means he can keep chasing after Bom’s shadow. At himself, because really, he isn't any better is he, for also toying around with Seollem's feelings. He's just as guilty of chasing after illusions, but Joohan isn't honest. He's blunt, but that isn't the same thing.
He punches in the six digit passcode, 030901, Bom's and his birthday. There's a beep, a whirr, and then the door's locking mechanism gives a click. He opens the door, footsteps quiet because the more his irritation grows, the colder and quieter he feels. Silently, he slips out of his sneakers, leaves them tidily at the entryway.
“You're home.” Wooyeon greets him from the sofa, sitting up straight and looking at him from over the headrest. There's a smile on his face as he says, “Welcome back.”
That smile makes no sense to Joohan, but that's just the kind of person that Wooyeon is. Friendly and open, kind words and kind actions.
He's probably trying to smooth over what happened earlier in the day.
“Why are you still here?” Joohan asks, aware that he's rudely changing the topic but just as aware that Wooyeon has always, always tolerated him.
“What do you mean? I live here.” Wooyeon says it with a laugh, as if Joohan just said something funny. It’s a charming sound, one that usually makes Joohan's own mouth turn up at the corners.
Joohan sets his backpack down, then sits heavily on the chair across from Wooyeon. He swallows back the next words on his tongue, because even if Wooyeon's tolerated him until now, he doesn't think he'd be forgiven even with the excuse of grief if he asked, Bom's gone, so why do you still live here?
Wooyeon is gentle, he’s not a pushover.
And besides, Joohan doesn't want to hear it. Guilt, responsibility, or maybe because you're like a brother to me, Joohan .
The silence stews a little thicker.
Is there a gentle way to ask Wooyeon what the hell he thinks he's doing? Cozying up to his brother's girlfriend like that? Is there a kind way, is there a correct way, a way that won't make Wooyeon flinch away from him?
Or maybe, Joohan thinks, maybe it doesn't matter anymore. Bom was always the glue that kept them together. Maybe it's fine if he ruins this because there was never any salvaging it to begin with.
Wooyeon is the one who finds his words first. There's still that smile on his face, casual, comfortable, attempting to set Joohan at ease. “Joohan, about what you said earlier? Is it true, you're interested in Seollem?”
Wooyeon always knows the right words to say, but it seems like there's a first time for everything. Joohan doesn't even attempt to hide the scowl on his face.
Another laugh, as if this situation is amusing. Wooyeon shuts his laptop, sets it aside. He pats the sofa beside him, and Joohan briefly feels like a cat that's being summoned.
“Come here, let's talk.”
He really can’t say no to Wooyeon, not even right now when his heart's starting to feel almost ice cold from anger. He sighs, his movements slow and leisurely as he shifts his posture on the seat, uncrossing his legs, then standing up.
He feels Wooyeon's gaze on him as he walks towards and then past him into the kitchenette. He grabs a glass off the drying rack beside the sink. Opens, shuts the fridge door calmly. Pours out water, places the pitcher back in the fridge, slowly. He glances at Wooyeon from his peripheral, his fringe shading his gaze. He's still smiling.
He turns around, leans his back against the counter and takes a sip.
Finally, Joohan takes a seat beside Wooyeon.
“It's the first time you've ever expressed any interest in a girl.” Wooyeon says it brightly. Joohan scoffs.
“Is that what it looks like to you?” He sets the glass down on the table. A little too hard and water falls over the lip of the glass, forming little beads on the wooden tabletop.
Wooyeon's expression shifts, but it's a minute thing. He must be uncomfortable. Good.
“How long do you think I've known you? You don't spend time around people you don't like.” The more that Wooyeon tries to smooth this over, tries to avoid any ugly truths, the more Joohan wants to dig his nails into it. It feels like he's trying to claw off a scab, he shouldn't but he won't feel relieved until he sees the wound bleed again.
“She’s my brother's girlfriend. If you think I like her, then you don't know me as well as you think you do.”
There's a flash of hurt in Wooyeon's eyes, and Joohan wonders what part of that statement brought him pain.
“Then why…” Wooyeon frowns. “Why are you trying to get close to her?”
Joohan turns to better face Wooyeon. He doesn’t phrase it even half as delicately. “What about you? You're leading her on, too.”
Something in Wooyeon’s expression seems to close off, a door’s been shut. No matter, Joohan will pry it open. He's sick of dancing around their feelings.
Wooyeon tries to smile again, but the shape his lips form is much closer to a grimace. He tries to laugh, and it's awkward and stilted. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think that naive girl won't confuse your kindness for affection?” There's a part of Joohan that should feel bad talking about Seollem like that, but it's not like it's wrong. It's a trait she shares with Bom, always innocently assuming the best in others. “You don't like her so-”
“Why can't I like her?”
It's Joohan's turn to laugh, and the sound is so cold that even to him it feels like a stranger's.
“Are you lying to me or to yourself?”
“You're one to talk about lying.” Wooyeon says it so harshly that Joohan's eyebrows rise. He feels the corners of his lips twitch but fights back the smile.
Wooyeon flinches, as if belatedly realizing what he's just said. He seems to deflate then, sighs heavily.
“You're right, I don't like her, not like that.” He drops his gaze to his lap, sighs again. His head sinks into his hands, and Joohan feels his stomach twist unpleasantly. He can handle Wooyeon getting mad at him, getting angry, but he doesn't want to see him like this.
“She reminds you of him?” Joohan tries to say it gently, but he's never been any good at that so it comes out in a flat and emotionless tone. It sounds accusatory, it isn’t.
“She talks about him. About Bom.” Wooyeon doesn't say it, but he doesn't need to. Joohan doesn't talk about him.
“I thought I knew everything about him, but she knows a side of him that I didn't and -” He takes in a shaking breath. “I want to know that side of him too. I want to hear him remembered by someone else that- someone that loved him.”
“I want to hear him remembered fondly by someone he loved.” Wooyeon's words have a tinge of desperation to them.
There's that disgusting feeling again, something sick and murky that Joohan's heart is drowned within. He's jealous of Bom even now and he hates it. He doesn't want to feel like this. He also wants to remember Bom fondly.
Without envy, without guilt for that same envy.
“So it's fine to lead her on as long as you can keep chasing after his ghost?” And isn't this reason enough that Wooyeon has never once turned in his direction? It feels acidic, the words pouring forth from his lips, sickly burning. Joohan isn't gentle. He's unkind, he's cold, he's hurtful, he's cynical and ungenerous and -
Wooyeon looks at him again. Joohan must have finally pushed him too far because his voice nearly shakes with anger as he says, “It's better than you. At least I'm not insulting his memory.”
“I'll tell her, then. I'll tell her he's dead, he’s gone. Then at least one of you will stop chasing after him.” Something about Wooyeon's anger has momentarily cooled Joohan's own and he's able to say the rest of what he means more truthfully. “It's disrespectful to him, but if she thought he was a jerk who ghosted her, she could have just moved on. It’s insulting his memory, but he's gone. It won't hurt him. But Seollem…”
Joohan finds his face pressed into Wooyeon's shoulder, his arms around him.
“Joohan, why are you playing the bad guy? You're the one who's getting hurt.”
It's warm and Joohan nearly feels his heart crack. He hasn't been held close like this since Bom's funeral, when Wooyeon clung to him and he clung to Wooyeon. He'd been too numb then, hadn't been able to feel any of Wooyeon's warmth.
He wants to cry. He doesn't, because that kind of softness and vulnerability doesn't suit him. Instead he says, “You and Bom and Seollem…you're too naive. I'm not some self sacrificing hero. My reasons are selfish, so don't pretend otherwise.”
Wooyeon only hugs him tighter. “Alright. You don't like her like that, so what other selfish reason could it be?”
Joohan pulls away from him, because it feels undeserved. “Because I don’t want you getting close to her. I don't want you to date her.”
“Because she was Bom's girlfriend?” Wooyeon's eyebrows draw together, perplexed. “Isn't it just as wrong for you to-”
“If you're going to keep looking for him, why won't you look at me instead?” Joohan cups Wooyeon's face in his hands. “I'm right here, I'm a better replacement than Seollem.”
Wooyeon's mouth opens, then closes. He struggles for words for a moment, then finally says, “What are you talking about?”
“You love Bom.”
“Of course I do- he was like my brother-”
Wooyeon tries to look away, but Joohan holds his face firmly in place.
“You were in love with him. Still are.” Clinging to every little bit of him that he can still find, and yet, and yet … why is Seollem fine, Seollem who was Bom's girlfriend, but not Joohan?
“How…why do you know that?” Wooyeon's voice is always warm and confident, sure of himself. He sounds small now. “Did he know?”
“Probably not.” Joohan says, and then, “The way you were always looking at him, of course I knew. It's the same way I've always looked at you.”
Wooyeon’s mouth parts, but he doesn't say anything. It figures.
He was always chasing after Bom, of course he never turned to look back at Joohan.
“You like me…?”
“I do.” He laughs drily. “I know I'm not Bom, but-”
“Yeah. You're not Bom, so don't try to be like him.” Wooyeon says it firmly, and Joohan knows it's over. He drops his hands, letting go of Wooyeon. “I don't need you to be a replacement, I don't want that.”
Wooyeon's hand on his shoulder. Joohan doesn't want to hear this.
“Joohan, it's enough already.”
“Yeah, forget it.” Joohan says. He knew going into this conversation that it would be the end for Wooyeon and him. He knew, but still, it hurts. He stands up, but Wooyeon catches his hand within his own.
“Joohan, listen to me.” He tugs at his hand, and Joohan relents. He sits back down.
“Stop trying to be something you're not.”
“I get it already.” Joohan wants to throw Wooyeon's hand off but he doesn't. It might be the last time he ever feels his warmth, after all. “I can't be like Bom even if I tried.”
Wooyeon lets go of his hand, and Joohan feels something akin to grief for a brief second before Wooyeon’s hands settle around his face instead.
“You're not nearly as cold as you think you are. Stop trying to be an asshole, it doesn't suit you.” He brings their faces closer, rests his forehead against Joohan's. “You're fine as you are.”
Wooyeon closes his eyes, takes a slow breath. A slow exhale past his lips, Joohan feels it against his skin.
“I don't need you to be a replacement, I just need you to be yourself.”
Wooyeon shifts back, and his eyes search across Joohan's face. His hands slip into his hair, then settle on his shoulders. “Do you understand what I'm saying?”
Joohan thinks he does.
When Wooyeon leans in, Joohan meets him halfway.
It's warm, Wooyeon's lips. A little chapped, but soft. Carefully, Joohan reaches for him, a hand threading through his hair. Softly, slowly.
Soft breath, a feather light hold on Wooyeon’s jaw.
It's delicate. This moment feels as if it's made out of glass, clear and sparkling and fragile.
Wooyeon finally breaks the kiss, there's a small smile on his face and Joohan realizes that his own lips are mirroring it.
A quiet laugh, and then Wooyeon says, “I never thought that you'd kiss me so gently.”
But Joohan isn't gentle, and his feelings for Wooyeon aren't so soft and delicate.
So when Wooyeon tugs him closer again for another kiss, Joohan isn’t so restrained. A little harder, a little deeper, teeth and tongue. A hot, sharp gasp against his mouth when he nips at Wooyeon's bottom lip, and he immediately pulls back.
“Sorry. You didn't like that, right?”
Wooyeon's smile only grows. “No, I did. Kiss me like that again?”
He really can’t say no to Wooyeon, but he finds himself stopping just as his lips brush against his. He pulls back.
“What did you say just now?”
“Kiss me?”
Joohan frowns. “You've thought about kissing me?”
“Yeah.” The curve of Wooyeon's mouth looks a little crooked. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”
Joohan must look as confused as he feels because Wooyeon takes a slow breath, then says. “I like you.”
“But-” Joohan starts to say, but stops because he really, truly doesn't want to hurt him anymore than he already has.
“But Bom, right?” Wooyeon says it quietly. “It's like you said, I keep chasing after his ghost.”
“You don't need to say anymore, it's fine.” Joohan sits back, giving him space.
“No, I don't want you to misunderstand. I think I'd already started to fall out of love right before he…but I didn't want that. Falling out of love and then losing him. It hurt too much, so I just kept clinging to his memory.”
Joohan reaches for his hand and takes hold of it, and it must be the right thing to do because Wooyeon squeezes it.
“I was scared of moving on, scared of falling for you. I still am.” Wooyeon tips his head onto Joohan's shoulder. “But I like you. And I want this.” He squeezes Joohan's hand again. “So even if it takes time, can you be patient and wait for me?”
“Yeah.” But that single word doesn't come close to conveying everything that Joohan wants to express. He doesn't know the right way, the nice way to say it. “I'll wait for you.”
He can't find the words, but there are always actions. He twines his fingers between Wooyeon's, a lovers’ hold. He lifts their joined hands, presses a kiss to the back of Wooyeon's hand.
He thinks he can almost see it, the seasons changing. Spring to summer to fall to winter and then spring again. The time will pass, and he'll be at Wooyeon's side throughout it.