Work Text:
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On the same sidewalk he takes every walk back home, Jaehyun spots the familiar tilt of Sanghyuk’s head, the way he walks leisurely as if there’s no hurry in the world. Something in Jaehyun loosens. He immediately grins and shouts “Riwoo!” before he can stop himself.
Even from a distance, he would recognize Sanghyuk. He always does. He has memorized him the way people memorize emergency exits, instinctively, quietly, without meaning to.
They jog toward each other because that’s what they have always done, even though they’re no longer kids racing through campus.
When they meet halfway, Sanghyuk crosses his arms and huffs out air. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Sanghyuk?”
“What? Riwoo is still a cute name.” Jaehyun shrugs, shoulders rising in a soft laugh.
Sanghyuk’s eyes flicker in annoyance but waves it off. “Whatever. Come see what I got for dinner.” He tucks an arm right into Jaehyun’s like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t make Jaehyun’s heart soar every single time. “If you act cute maybe I’ll give you your share.”
They’re nearly home when Jaehyun stops abruptly. “Hang on. Weren’t you heading for training?”
“What, no. I was going to fetch you.” Sanghyuk looks confused for a second. “Well, originally I was supposed to meet up with Woonhak but we had to cancel.”
Oh.
Jaehyun only nods before they resume walking. He tries to recall the last time Sanghyuk actually went out of his way to fetch him. Years, maybe. Since then it was mostly the two of them running across each other in their shared house or in the cafe Sanghyuk worked at. Time has a way of stretching thin between them, as if they’re always missing each other by an hour, a day, a breath. Or maybe that was just Jaehyun thinking so.
Back home, Sanghyuk insists they immediately head to the kitchen, dragging Jaehyun with him who seems amused despite the tiredness seeping into his bones. He stares at the counter where everything was laid out neatly, something Sanghyuk definitely took the time to arrange, too organized for someone who swears he’s always busy.
Jaehyun scans the array of items and exhales, disappointment evident in his voice. “So our dinner is coffee?”
“For starters, yes. You need to try the new blend I’ve been working on.” There’s a spark in Sanghyuk’s voice that Jaehyun hasn’t heard in a while.
“Sanghyuk…”
“What?”
“I thought we were having chicken or something.”
“Only if you promise to try my coffee,” Sanghyuk counters, already reaching for the kettle.
“Okay. You know what, fine.” Jaehyun decides to indulge Sanghyuk because how could he not.
They settle into the small space between them with Jaehyun only half-present in the conversation as Sanghyuk immediately starts listing off the process in which he ended up with this new and improved coffee blend that he would like to incorporate in their cafe.
For a while the smell of roasted coffee fills the apartment and then followed by cooking. Between them it almost feels like something warm.
Halfway through eating, Jaehyun speaks without looking up. “So, what’s up with you?”
Sanghyuk pauses. “I don’t know, it’s all good. How was your day?”
“Good. I worked out.”
“You always work out,” Sanghyuk replies, rolling his eyes as he pushes his bangs away from his face.
“Correction, not always. Plus, these muscles won’t stay around.” Jaehyun flexes dramatically making Sanghyuk scoff.
“Right, right. But the important things is—
“I am healthy inside. I know.”
Sanghyuk smiles, the tiniest bit. “Good.”
“Iced tea?” Jaehyun asks, already reaching for the pitcher.
“Yes, please.” Sanghyuk offers his glass. Their fingers brush as he does. Neither comments on it.
By the time night rolls around, their apartment is quiet in the way late nights tend to be. Sanghyuk has long retreated to his room while Jaehyun lies in bed staring at the faint lines of moonlight cutting across the ceiling.
It doesn’t even take much effort before exhaustion pulls him under.
Then there’s that same dream again.
It starts with Sanghyuk’s voice, muffled and strained, calling his name from somewhere Jaehyun can’t locate. He tries to reach for him only for Sanghyuk to slip further away. It sparks dread in him and then there’s a sound, sharp and final.
Coldness spreads over Jaehyun. A heaviness he can’t shake.
Jaehyun jolts awake, hand clutching at his blanket. He tries to sit up slowly.
It’s just a nightmare. Just a bad dream.
But the awful feeling lingers.
He glances at the wall separating his room from Sanghyuk’s.
Before he can talk himself out of it, Jaehyun’s hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand. His thumb hovers it.
He knows it’s late. That this is strange. He also knows Sanghyuk will probably tease him in the morning.
But it doesn’t sit right with him.
Jaehyun presses the call.
The ringing is slow, until finally someone picks up from the other end.
“Hmm? Jaehyun?”
Relief hits him so hard Jaehyun nearly drops the phone.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” His voice is low.
“S’okay,” Sanghyuk mutters, he sounded half asleep. There’s the sound of him shifting on his bed, sheets rustling. “What’s the matter?”
Jaehyun exhales slowly. He leans back against the headboard of his bed. “Sorry, it’s just… I had a bad dream.”
A soft pause.
“Oh.”
“Sorry,” Jaehyun repeats quickly. “It’s stupid. I don’t know why I called, our rooms are next to each other.”
“It’s fine,” Sanghyuk says gently. “Really.”
“I’ll hang up the phone now,” he murmurs. “Please get some more sleep.”
“Are you sure?” Sanghyuk asks.
“Yeah.” Jaehyun closes his eyes. “Go to sleep, Riwoo. Sorry again.”
He hears Sanghyuk exhale. “Okay.”
The line clicks and the room grows silent around Jaehyun once more.
Jaehyun keeps the phone by his chest a little longer, listening to the quiet hum of the airconditioning. Eventually, he lies back down, still feeling the nightmare lingering in his mind.
He wakes later than usual, a feeling of unease still somewhere behind his ribs. Jaehyun smells the faint scent of coffee, Sanghyuk’s doing obviously.
He drags himself out of bed, runs a hand through his messy hair, and stalks out of his room.
Sanghyuk is already at the table, stirring his coffee in a mug, his expression relaxed. He looks up the moment Jaehyun appears.
“Morning,” Sanghyuk greets.
“Hey, morning.” Jaehyun grabs a plate from the dish rack, trying to look normal, whatever that means.
He feels Sanghyuk’s eyes on him before he asks casually, “So, what was your bad dream all about?”
Jaehyun freezes for a moment, a tiny hitch in movement only someone who knows him well would catch. “Huh? Oh.” He scratches his cheek, forcing a shrug. “I can’t even recall it now.”
It wasn’t a total lie. Jaehyun remembers the feeling better than the nightmare itself. He keeps his eyes on the empty plate, pretending that it needs his full attention.
Sanghyuk hums, letting it go. “You and Park Sungho made up yet?”
The question hits Jaehyun like a punch. He looks up sharply, obviously startled.
Of all things to bring up early in the morning.
“No…” he answers, more bluntly than he intends.
Sanghyuk lifts his eyebrows, almost amused. “That’s new.”
“What does that even mean?” Jaehyun shoots back, arms crossing instinctively. His face feels hot which annoys him more.
“Sorry,” Sanghyuk says, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m just used to you guys making up quickly is all.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun mutters, looking away. “Me too.” He doesn’t add that they’re not even dating. He does not say that Sanghyuk simply assumed that and he never corrected him because he didn’t know how to without sounding weird and defensive.
They manage to eat in a comfortable silence after that. Sanghyuk sipping his coffee, Jaehyun poking at his eggs. One of them pretending the air isn’t slightly off than usual.
When they finish, they clean up side by side, the small motions settling into an easy rhythm of rinsing dishes, wiping the table, tossing leftovers into the bin.
Eventually, Sanghyuk wipes his hands on a towel and reaches for his bag.
“Work?” Jaehyun asks, already knowing.
“Yep. You?”
“Gym first, then studio.”
Sanghyuk nods in acknowledgment, slinging the strap over his shoulder. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun replies before waving.
That was it, no dramatic goodbyes, just two people stepping into their separate routines, passing each other in the room with soft nods, the morning still lingering between them.
It isn’t until dinner time that they see each other again as agreed upon.
It was a quiet affair, nothing out of the usual.
Their house settled into an exhausted stillness by the time Sanghyuk finally set the rice cooker to warm and joined Jaehyun at the table. They ate without much conversation, just the familiar rhythm of utensils scraping against bowls, the occasional sigh slipping between them.
Sanghyuk tried, once or twice, to start a small talk. But everything dissolved before it could grow into anything meaningful.
Thankfully Jaehyun had enough appetite to finish his food.
When the meal was done, they cleaned up in the same silence. Afterwards, Sanghyuk retreats to his room, intending to sleep early. Jaehyun stays in the living room for a while, scrolling on his phone long after it had gone dark. Eventually, the tiredness tugs him to bed.
Sleep did not come gently either this time.
It came to him in fragments. A door slamming. A breath caught in panic. A voice calling his name or maybe he was calling it. The dream nearly stops him from breathing properly until Jaehyun’s eyes snap open.
Before he could think, before he could talk himself down, his feet were already carrying him down the hallway.
His knuckles were knocking on Sanghyuk’s door.
“Sanghyuk?” Jaehyun’s voice cracked, he opened the door slowly.
There was a pause, then the soft rustle of blankets. “I… What…” Sanghyuk blinks awake. “Jaehyun?”
He shakes his head quickly. “You’re okay. Go back to sleep, sorry.”
He was about to turn away.
“Jaehyun.”
Sanghyuk’s voice stops him.
“Huh?”
Sanghyuk lifts the blanket wordlessly, eyes still heavy with sleep but clear enough to see what Jaehyun isn’t saying. “Here. Just sleep next to me.”
He does not move. Couldn’t. But Sanghyuk's voice was soft, familiar, and Jaehyun found himself nodding before his mind could even catch up.
“Okay.”
It doesn’t take much for him to cross the room and slip into the bed. Sanghyuk shifted just enough to make space, meeting him halfway in the dark. Jaehyun settled beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he belonged there. He knew he shouldn’t. But sleep and dread blurred the edges of everything, softening the sharp hesitation.
Sanghyuk pulls the blanket over them both, the warmth immediate. Jaehyun lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’s been holding.
This does nothing to help his situation, really. But Sanghyuk’s nearness was comforting, one he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
And when Sanghyuk’s hand brushed against his arm, a simple sleepy gesture, Jaehyun’s eyes finally drifted shut.
Tomorrow is tomorrow’s problem, he decided.
Jaehyun wakes slowly.
For a moment, he was suspended in that calmness, the warm blanket and whatever cologne Sanghyuk was using lingering beside him. His hand reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed and was met with nothing but cool sheets.
The space next to him was empty.
A soft buzz from the bedside table pulls him back. He reaches out for his phone.
It was Sanghyuk, letting him know that he was covering the entire morning and afternoon shift at the cafe hence, his early leave.
Jaehyun sighs, long and slow.
Good.
He didn’t think he could handle facing Sanghyuk first thing in the morning anyway. Not after crawling into his bed, not after feeling the gentle weight of Sanghyuk’s arm brush his and feeling relieved, not after falling asleep with a sense of steadiness knowing he was right next to him.
This gives him time. To gather whatever dignity and composure he had left, to give himself the grace.
He pushes himself upright, tidying Sanghyuk’s bed like it was the most important task in the world, and slips out of the room as if fleeing a crime scene.
The rest of Jaehyun’s morning passes in a blur of half-hearted distractions. An old film he barely understood, chores he didn’t finish, a walk he cut short because his thoughts keep circling back to the same place.
By late afternoon, he couldn’t sit still anymore.
Jaehyun grabbed the nearest hoodie he could find, body moving before the decision fully formed in his head.
He makes his way to the cafe.
The bell over the door chimed when he entered. He easily spots Sanghyuk behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine, focused and totally unaware of the storm twisting inside Jaehyun’s chest. When he finally looked up, Sanghyuk’s eyebrows jumped at the sight of him.
“So?” Sanghyuk asks, leaning forward on the counter.
“So, what?” Jaehyun replies, trying and failing not to sound defensive.
“Why are you out here?” Sanghyuk squinted, his tone held equal parts curiosity and caution like he wasn’t sure which version of Jaehyun he was dealing with today.
“Are you telling me I’m not allowed in here?” Jaehyun shoots back.
“That’s not what I said.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a heartbeat too long until Jaehyun purses his lips in a tight line, looking away.
“I don’t know,” he mutters. “What time’s your shift ending?”
“Around six.”
“Okay.” Jaehyun crosses his arms. “I’ll wait for you.”
Sanghyuk stops whatever, clearly not expecting that. Then he nods, giving Jaehyun a sly wink. “Don’t embarrass me, okay?”
“Shut up, man,” Jaehyun barks out an unintended laugh, getting caught off guard at the statement.
And Sanghyuk, despite trying to hide it with performed seriousness, looked a little relieved. Amused that he managed to make Jaehyun laugh anyway.
By the time Sanghyuk’s shift finally ended, Jaehyun had already counted every dog that walked past the cafe window. Twelve, if he included the one in the baby stroller.
He didn’t even realize he had been spacing out until the cafe door clicked shut behind the last customer. Sanghyuk emerges from behind the counter, carrying two drinks and a plate with slightly squished pastry.
He slides easily into the seat across from Jaehyun, nudging the pastry towards him with a small grin.
“Before this gets thrown out,” Sanghyuk says. “And don’t complain. The drinks are free.”
Jaehyun does not in fact complain. He just stares at the glass in front of him, then at Sanghyuk, then back at the glass.
Sanghyuk watches him for a moment, then leans forward slightly.
“Is everything okay, Jaehyun?”
“Yes. Why?” he answers too quickly.
“Really?” Sanghyuk tilts his head.
There it was. The soft insistence Jaehyun always caved to.
He sighs. “No. I don’t really know. I’m mostly fine, though.”
Sanghyuk rests his arms on the table, eyes narrowing just a touch. “You guys haven’t made up yet?”
“Sungho?” Jaehyun blinks. “Not really. He won’t talk to me and I won’t talk to him.”
Which was a total lie. They had settled the argument days ago, something about music or pre-workout powder, he couldn’t even remember. It had been petty, stupid, and forgettable.
And yet, here was Jaehyun keeping up the charade. He didn’t know why. Or he did, he just didn’t want to look closely at the reason.
Sanghyuk then clicks his tongue. “Stupid. Do you even want to fix it?”
“What? Of course I do.”
“This is so unlike you, Myung Jaehyun.”
“And what’s like me?” Jaehyun asks quietly.
“I don’t know.” Sanghyuk drops his gaze to the table, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”
Silence follows right after. Even then, neither stood up to leave.
They finish their drinks slowly, sharing glances, small comments, the kind of comfortable nothingness that existed between people who had lived side by side long enough to read the air around each other.
Once Sanghyuk closes the cafe, finally walking home together, Jaehyun feels a little better.
That night, Jaehyun lays in his bed. He has braced himself each night, waiting for the familiar drop in his gut, the sudden cold sweat.
But it never comes.
He felt light. He thought of Sanghyuk, he thought of their walk home. For once, he fell asleep in peace. Without a single nightmare clawing its way through his mind.
A week passes by without any incident.
A full week of steady breaths and undisturbed sleep, and midnights that didn’t feel like Jaehyun was falling from a cliff. He was nearly convinced that the nightmares got bored of him, leaving him alive out of mercy.
But he spoke too soon.
It wasn’t even night time when it hit. Just a slow afternoon in the studio, the cold lulling him straight into a nap he hadn’t meant to take on the narrow sofa. And in that short, unguarded moment, the nightmare flares back to life.
Sanghyuk disappearing. Gone. Not coming back.
Jaehyun wakes with a sharp inhale, heart hammering through his ribs. Even before his vision cleared, his fingers were already tapping, dialing.
The call rings once. Twice.
Jaehyun’s knees trembled uncontrollably.
And then it clicks.
“Lee Sanghyuk? Are you there?” Jaehyun blurts before the other can even breathe.
“What’s up?” Sanghyuk sounded like he was wiping down a counter, the usual hum of the cafe in the background. Busy. Normal. Alive.
“Oh, thank you.” The breath leaves Jaehyun like a punctured balloon.
“What? Why?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. I was just checking up on you.”
A pause. Not long but it was long enough to make Jaehyun feel agony.
“Okay, Jaehyun. Look, I have to hang up. But I can call you later if you want?”
“It’s fine, Riwoo. Sorry.”
He ends the call first.
Then Jaehyun sat there, hands shaking, staring at the phone like it might ring again and confirm everything that just happened was real.
It doesn’t.
But no more than an hour later, something else happens.
The studio door slams open and Sanghyuk storms in with the confidence of someone who has long stopped asking permission to exist in Jaehyun’s world.
The studio was small. Far too small for escape.
“Myung Jaehyun,” Sanghyuk says, breathing slightly unsteady. “We have to talk. No. I want to talk.”
Jaehyun blinks at him. “Okay. Is everything alright?”
“No, not really.” Sanghyuk shuts the door with his heel, crossing his arms as he takes a step closer. “I’m just—I’m worried about you.”
“What? There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine though?”
“I just noticed that… Well, look.” Sanghyuk exhales, frustrated with his own inability to phrase things gently. “If there’s something you’d like to say, just say it.”
“Oh.” Jaehyun swallows. “Oh. Is this about me checking up on you at random times these past days or whatever?”
“Yes.” Sanghyuk doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Why exactly are you doing that? Not that I hate it or anything. But it worries me, honestly.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Jaehyun murmurs.
“I don’t know. Is it?”
“What?” Jaehyun says dumbly.
“I mean,” Sanghyuk gestures vaguely in the air. “Clearly something is bothering you. I’m just worried because you always seem to avoid talking about it. I’m worried that if your fight with Sungho has been affecting you like this, then it doesn’t really seem healthy. You need to do something about it or at least, you know, talk to someone about it.”
Jaehyun stares at him.
“Wait. You think this is all about me and Sungho?”
“Um, yes?” Sanghyuk frowns. “I’m not really sure what else would be bothering you this way.”
“No. Right. No, oh my god.” Jaehyun backs away until his shoulders hit the wall. “This is all my fault.”
“Jaehyun.” Sanghyuk steps even closer to him. “Hey. Jesus, Myungjae. Can you please breathe?”
But he couldn’t. Jaehyun’s breath snagged in his throat. He presses both palms to his temples, muttering under his breath.
“I messed it up. I messed it all up, he thinks it’s Sungho, why would I—why couldn’t I just—
“Hey.” Sanghyuk takes him gently by the wrists, pulling his hands down. “Look at me.”
Jaehyun meets his eyes for a second before looking away, the big overwhelming feeling sinking on his stomach.
“What is it,” Sanghyuk asks, softly this time, “that you’re having a hard time telling me?”
He shakes his head. Then nodded.
And shakes his head again.
“Myungjae,” Sanghyuk whispers. “I swear I’m not going anywhere.”
That breaks him.
“I’m scared, okay?” Jaehyun says, voice cracking open. “Every time I sleep, something bad happens to you. I keep seeing you disappear and I hate it. And I keep calling because I have to make sure it wasn’t real, I need to know you’re still here. And it’s stupid but… Well, you’re important. Sanghyuk. You’ve always been important to me.”
He swallows hard. “And I don’t know how to deal with all of that.”
Sanghyuk blinks, surprise evident in his face. “Oh,” he whispers. “Oh.”
Jaehyun groans. “Please don’t say ‘oh’ like that—
“Hey, Myungjae.” His voice softened. “Do you… like me?”
Jaehyun freezes. “I—What—No—Maybe—I don’t—
“Okay, so you do,” Sanghyuk says gently, eyes twinkling.
Jaehyun slid down the wall until he was crouching on the floor, burying his face in his hands.
“I’m such a mess,” he mumbles through his palms. “I like you so much it makes me stupid.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Sanghyuk laughed.
That stupid, warm laugh that always made things feel less unbearable.
“Hey,” Sanghyuk crouches down in front of him, poking his knee lightly. “You don’t get to take all the credit for being an idiot here.”
Jaehyun peeks at him through his fingers. “What?”
“I like you, too,” Sanghyuk says simply, eyebrows lifting in that familiar teasing expression, then he sends a playful wink on Jaehyun's way. “I didn’t say anything for so long because I thought you and Park Sungho were a thing. But then I saw him being gross and in love with someone who wasn’t you, and I figured you deserved someone better anyway.”
“Better?” Jaehyun echoes weakly.
“Yeah.” Sanghyuk grins. “Me.”
Jaehyun makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a scoff and a sob.
“What the hell, you can’t just say that.”
“I’m just saying, I wanted to put you out of your misery which is a very stupid thing to hold onto by the way,” Sanghyuk shrugs. “But we’re here now. We can figure it out. Slowly.”
Jaehyun lets out a shaky breath.
Slow was nice. Slow sounded safe.
“As long as it’s you,” Jaehyun says with a firm nod.
“I think it’s always been me,” Sanghyuk gives him a smug but reassuring look.
So for the first time in a long time, Jaehyun feels at ease. Because Sanghyuk was still here. Still real. And he’s choosing him.
Later that night, long after the lights in their living room had dimmed and the echo of Sanghyuk’s laughter had settled somewhere warm in Jaehyun’s chest, he found himself lying in bed with the blanket pulled loosely around his waist.
The room was quiet but it didn’t feel threatening. It felt light. Spacious.
He thinks of Sanghyuk wiping his hands on his cafe apron, a habit of his. He thinks of the way Sanghyuk’s eyebrows knit together when he’s deep in thought, the stubborn huff in his voice when he calls him an idiot. The subtle shift between them and in his gaze when realization finally dawned, unbearably kind.
Jaehyun exhales, a full unguarded smile gracing his lips.
And when he closes his eyes, sleep comes so easily. No nightmares, no chasing shadows. Just the lingering warmth of a shared space, coffee scent, and the quiet certainty that somehow, they will always find their way back to each other.
It was so much of everything, and Jaehyun thinks it’s more than enough to fill him.