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Five years of loving each other in the quietest corners of the world.
Five years of hidden touches behind closed doors, of kisses swallowed by darkness, of memories tucked inside apartments, empty parking lots, late-night drives, and rooms that would never speak for them. Five years of being something real in places that were never allowed to witness it.
It was cruel in a way neither of them would ever wish upon anyone.
And somehow, it happened to them.
To Geum Seongje, the Union’s mad dog, the boy people only ever learned to fear.
And to Go Hyuntak, the reckless, loud-hearted fighter of Eunjang.
No one knew. Not Eunjangs. Not the Union. Not even the people who loved them most.
Not Suho. Not Sieun. Not Baku. Not Juntae.
Not even Baekjin, the person Seongje trusted with almost everything or even Seongmok and Dongha who Seongje spends most of his time with aside from Hyuntak.
Because Hyuntak was terrified.
Terrified of what people would say when they learned he was dating someone from the Union. Terrified of his mother finding out that the boy she blamed for the destruction of his taekwondo career had somehow become the person he loved most in this world.
Maybe Hyuntak should have avoided him from the very beginning. Maybe he should have hated Seongje enough to walk away.
But love has always been cruel like that.
It blooms in the places it should not survive in.
And Hyuntak loved Seongje too much to leave him. Just not enough to stop being afraid.
That was the tragedy of it all.
Because Seongje understood. God, he understood too much.
He understood every hesitation, every flinch, every silence. He understood why Hyuntak froze whenever someone almost caught them standing too close together. He understood why Hyuntak would pull away first in public. He understood every single fearful glance.
But understanding someone does not make the loneliness hurt less.
And after almost six years, Seongje was beginning to drown in it.
In their second year of dating, the Union finally collapsed. The endless violence, the hierarchy, the blood-soaked loyalty that once chained all of them together, it was over.
And somehow, after everything that happened, peace came quietly. Their friends had moved on from the past already. Eunjang and the Union were no longer tearing each other apart. Baku and Baekjin were friends again. Everyone had healed enough to stand in the same room together without blood spilling between them.
Everything was finally okay.
So why did loving Seongje still feel like something Hyuntak had to hide?
Why did loving each other still feel like something forbidden when the world around them had already learned how to move on?
That question had been rotting inside Seongje for years.
Because every time they were around their friends, Seongje became painfully aware of what he could not have.
He watched Suho casually wrap an arm around Sieun’s shoulders without fear. Watch couples laugh freely, touch freely, exist freely.
Meanwhile, Seongje had to pretend not to love the person sitting right beside him.
No touching.
No lingering looks.
No slipping his hand into Hyuntak’s.
Nothing.
Just distance. Always distance.
And Seongje hated how lonely it made him feel.
The breaking point came on a random night.
Hyuntak had dinner with his new coworkers, and Seongje had picked him up afterward like he always did. Hyuntak had smiled at his colleagues and introduced Seongje so casually it made something inside him crack.
“This is my friend.”
Friend.
The word lodged itself inside Seongje’s chest like shattered glass.
Friend.
As if Seongje was just someone temporary.
As if he was not the man Hyuntak came home to every night.
Not the man who knew how Hyuntak liked his coffee.
Not the man who held him after nightmares.
Not the man Hyuntak kissed half-asleep at three in the morning.
Not the man who had loved him so completely for almost six years.
Just a friend.
And Seongje realized then that no matter how many times it happened, he would never get used to it.
Because every single time, it hurt like the first wound all over again.
Another week passed after that.
Another dinner invitation from Hyuntak’s colleagues.
Another normal evening.
Seongje sat in the living room, controller in hand, the television casting pale blue light across his tired face. Hyuntak walked out of the bedroom while fixing the sleeves of his shirt.
“Seongje,” he called softly. “Can you drive me to the restaurant today?”
The room stayed quiet for a moment.
Then Seongje laughed.
Not warmly.
Not fondly.
Just tired.
“So you can introduce me as your friend again?”
Hyuntak blinked. “What?”
Seongje kept his eyes on the screen because looking at Hyuntak felt too painful.
“I’m getting tired, Tak-ah.”
The words fell into the room so heavily it felt suffocating.
Hyuntak’s chest tightened immediately. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m tired of hiding.”
Seongje finally looked at him then and Hyuntak wished he had not.
Because there was something devastating in Seongje’s eyes.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Exhaustion.
“I’m tired of being your secret,” Seongje whispered. “For fuck’s sake, Hyuntak… it’s been almost six years. Six years, and I’m still just your friend?”
Hyuntak opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“I kept understanding you because I love you,” Seongje continued, voice shaking now. “I kept telling myself your fear mattered more, that eventually you’d get there, eventually you’d choose me too. But how long am I supposed to wait?”
His breathing turned uneven.
“Do you know how lonely it feels? Being beside you around everyone and having to act like I don’t love you? Like I don’t belong to you?”
Hyuntak’s eyes burned instantly with tears.
“Seongje—”
“I can’t even hold your hand.” His voice cracked. “Do you know how pathetic that feels after six years? Watching everyone love openly while I stand beside you pretending I’m nothing?”
“You’re not nothing—”
“Then why do you keep treating me like I am?”
The silence afterward was unbearable.
Seongje laughed again, but this time it sounded broken.
“Your colleagues think I’m your friend. Your acquaintances think I’m your friend. Hell, sometimes I think if I disappeared tomorrow, people would never even know I was the person you loved.”
“Please stop…”
“I understand your mother,” Seongje said quietly. “I understand your fear. I understand every fucking reason you have.”
His eyes turned glassy.
“But why do I always have to be the one understanding?”
Hyuntak started crying then.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
The kind of crying that comes from realizing too late that the person you love has been hurting beside you for years.
“I’m sorry,” Hyuntak whispered helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”
But apologies felt so small now.
So painfully small against six years of silence.
Seongje stared at him with trembling lips.
“Is being with me really that terrifying?”
Hyuntak shook his head immediately. “No”
“Then why didn’t I ever win against your fear?”
That one destroyed him.
Because Hyuntak had no answer.
And maybe that was what hurt the most.
Because Seongje loved him loudly even in silence.
While Hyuntak loved him quietly enough to hide him.
“I kept waiting for the day you’d choose me without being scared,” Seongje whispered. “Just once. I just wanted to feel like your love for me was bigger than your fear.”
Tears slipped down his face now too.
“But I don’t think it ever was.”
Hyuntak felt like his chest was being ripped open.
“No, Seongje, please”
“I don’t know anymore, Tak.”
The words sounded defeated.
Empty.
“I love you so much it’s ruining me.”
Hyuntak broke completely at that.
He cried harder, reaching for him desperately, but Seongje stepped back before he could touch him.
And that hurt even more.
Because Seongje had always been the one reaching first.
Always.
“I’ll leave for now,” Seongje said softly. “I think if I stay any longer, I’m going to beg you to love me louder. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“Don’t go,” Hyuntak sobbed.
Seongje looked at him one last time.
And God, Hyuntak had never seen him look so heartbroken before.
“I don’t want to feel desperate for a love that’s already mine.”
Then he walked away.
The door closed quietly behind him.
But the sound shattered everything anyway.
And for the first time in six years, Go Hyuntak was left alone in the apartment that still smelled like Seongje’s cologne, crying so hard he could barely breathe, realizing that fear had finally cost him the person he loved most.