Chapter Text
Hyeonjoon had been holding back his tears ever since their Nexus exploded.
The deafening cheers from the opposing crowd still echoed in his ears, blending with the sound of the victory announcement that wasn't meant for them. Even after they left the stage, he refused to let himself fall apart.
He kept a straight face through the post-match interviews, answering every question with practiced professionalism despite feeling like every word scraped against his throat.
On the ride back to the hotel, he stared silently out the window, blinking rapidly whenever the tears threatened to spill.
He even managed to keep himself together when the team decided to skip spending the night at the hotel and head back to T1 Headquarters instead. Someone suggested grabbing a late meal from the cafeteria before calling it a night. No one really had much of an appetite, but the familiarity of home felt more comforting than another night in a hotel room.
The atmosphere inside the van was painfully quiet.
No one knew what to say.
No one wanted to make the silence heavier than it already was.
Finally, Sanghyeok spoke.
"Don't beat yourselves up too much. No solo-q tonight. Get some sleep when we get home."
His voice was calm, gentle, carrying the quiet authority that had guided them through countless victories and defeats.
"Understand?"
Three heads nodded.
"Hyeonjoon-ah."
Sanghyeok's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Y-Yes, hyung."
The reply barely came out above a whisper.
He wished nobody would say anything else.
Because he knew that one more word of kindness from his team would make him completely fall apart.
When they arrived at T1 Headquarters, Hyeonjoon climbed out of the van with tired, blurry eyes.
The familiar lobby came into view.
Then he froze.
Standing quietly near the front desk was someone he knew better than anyone.
Jihoon, his boyfriend for 4 years.
Still dressed in his new Gen.G uniform as he had come straight from their fanmeeting at Daejeon, he stood there patiently with a plastic bag in one hand.
Inside the bag are packs of Pistachio bread - Hyeonjoon's latest obsession.
It shattered the last wall Hyeonjoon had built around himself.
Without thinking, he slowly walked toward him.
Jihoon didn't say anything.
He simply opened his arms.
The moment Hyeonjoon stepped into the embrace, every ounce of strength he had left disappeared.
He melted against Jihoon's chest as though he'd finally found somewhere safe enough to stop pretending.
Jihoon's hand gently cradled the back of his head.
"I love you," he whispered.
That was all it took.
The tears Hyeonjoon had forced back for hours finally escaped.
He couldn't stop crying. His shoulders shook violently as quiet sobs escaped him, soaking Jihoon's hoodie.
Jihoon only held him tighter.
No words.
No attempts to tell him everything would be okay.
Just warmth.
Just home.
After a few minutes, Jihoon looked toward Sanghyeok.
"Hyung... can I take him home?"
Sanghyeok smiled faintly before nodding.
"Take care of him."
Home.
Not Gen.G's dorm.
Not Jihoon's parents' house.
Home was the apartment they had bought together after Jihoon won his first MSI trophy back in 2024.
Their place. Their sanctuary.
The one place where they could simply exist as Jihoon and Hyeonjoon.
Not professional players. Not opponents. Just them.
"Do you need to grab anything upstairs?" Jihoon asked softly.
Hyeonjoon, still buried against his shoulder, only shook his head.
Jihoon waved goodbye to the rest of T1 before guiding Hyeonjoon toward the basement parking lot where his car was waiting.
The drive home was silent.
Jihoon knew better than to force conversation.
Sometimes words only made grief heavier.
So instead, he rested one hand on the steering wheel while the other occasionally found Hyeonjoon's, giving it a reassuring squeeze whenever they stopped at a red light.
Every now and then, he'd gently rub circles across Hyeonjoon's back.
Just enough to remind him that he's not alone.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into the parking at the basement of their apartment building.
By then, Hyeonjoon's sobs had quieted into exhausted sniffles.
Jihoon intertwined their fingers before leading him toward the elevator.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The apartment welcomed them with familiar warmth.
Their comfort space.
Their safe haven.
"Do you want to eat?" Jihoon asked after setting the bread on the kitchen counter.
Hyeonjoon shook his head.
"Something warm to drink?"
Another shake.
Jihoon smiled gently, "sleep?" he asked.
This time, Hyeonjoon nodded.
"...Help me sleep," he said weakly.
Those three words nearly broke Jihoon's heart.
"Okay," he said softly. "Go take a warm shower first. I'll get everything ready."
Using what little energy he had left, Hyeonjoon made his way into the bathroom.
Warm water streamed over him, washing away the sweat from the match but never quite managing to erase the weight in his chest.
Outside, Jihoon quietly prepared the bedroom.
He replaced the bedsheets, changed the pillowcases, and spread a fresh comforter across the mattress.
Few minutes later, Hyeonjoon stepped out wearing the comfortable clothes Jihoon had carefully chosen for him.
His damp hair clung to his forehead.
"Come here," Jihoon said with a small smile. "Let me dry your hair."
Hyeonjoon nodded obediently before sitting in front of the vanity.
As Jihoon plugged in the hairdryer, Hyeonjoon unlocked his phone.
His thumb hovered over the team KakaoTalk group for a long moment.
Then he began typing.
"Everyone...
I'm really sorry.
I'm sorry that I'm still mentally weak during games.
I'm sorry that I couldn't carry the team to a win.
I'm sorry that I played so badly.
Sanghyeok hyung...
I'm sorry I couldn't help you win another MSI trophy after all these years.
Minseok-ah. Hyunjoon-ah.
I'm sorry I became the reason we couldn't win today. You two are so used to winning international matches.
Suhwan-ah, I'm sorry you lost an international trophy again because of your hyung...again.
Team, for the remaining months of this season, I'll do my best.
Thank you for being patient with me.
For the remaining months, I promise, I'll become someone who won't drag this team down anymore.
Few more months left :)"
He stared at the message for several seconds.
The send button waited.
Behind him, the warm air from the hairdryer gently brushed through his damp hair.
Jihoon's fingers carefully combed through each strand with quiet tenderness.
"You're crying again." Jihoon caught his reflection in the mirror. He'd started crying too while finishing the long message he was typing to his team.
"Sorry..."
"Shh... it's okay." Jihoon brushed a hand through his hair before gently guiding him toward the bed. "Come on. Get some rest while I take a quick shower."
"Close your eyes. Take slow, deep breaths," Jihoon murmured as he tucked the blankets around him.
Hyeonjoon obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut as fresh tears slipped down his cheeks.
Jihoon let out a quiet sigh. More than anything, he wanted to crawl into bed immediately and hold his boyfriend until he fell asleep. But he had only just gotten home from his own schedule.
Instead, he hurried through a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and dried his hair. He lit a scented candle, switched off the lights, and left only the bedside lamp glowing with a warm, gentle light.
When he finally slipped into bed beside him, he barely had time to settle before Hyeonjoon moved closer, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face against his chest as if it were the safest place in the world.
Jihoon's hand instinctively found his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles.
"You're doing well, baby."
"Not today."
"Maybe not today," Jihoon admitted softly. "But not forever. You'll find your way back."
"I'm losing hope."
"Don't. So many people love you." He smiled faintly. "Did you see all those fan projects from Vietnam?"
Hyeonjoon stayed quiet.
"You've inspired so many people," Jihoon continued. "One bad game doesn't define who you are or erase the impact you've had on everyone who believes in you."
"Hmm." Hyeonjoon's voice was barely above a whisper. "I love you... and thank you."
Jihoon chuckled. "That's random."
"It's not." Hyeonjoon tightened his hold around him. "I love you. And thank you for loving me even during bad days... like today"
Jihoon clicked his tongue dramatically. "Aish... how many times do I have to tell you? I love Hyeonjoon not Doran." He gently tapped the back of Hyeonjoon's head.
"Doran can have bad games for all I care. It's Hyeonjoon that I love the most."
A small silence settled between them before
Hyeonjoon spoke again.
"If Doran has a bad game... can he come to you as Hyeonjoon?"
Jihoon didn't hesitate.
"Always, baby. Always."
Jihoon tightened his embrace, and Hyeonjoon instinctively nestled even closer. Neither of them spoke another word, letting the quiet warmth settle between them.
Despite the exhaustion weighing on him after his own schedule, Jihoon fought to stay awake until he was certain Hyeonjoon had fallen asleep.
His hand continued tracing slow, comforting circles across Hyeonjoon's back, never once breaking its gentle rhythm.
Gradually, Hyeonjoon's uneven breaths settled into soft, steady ones, his body finally relaxing against Jihoon's.
Only then did Jihoon allow himself to close his eyes. Holding Hyeonjoon close, he let himself fell asleep
The next morning, Jihoon stirred awake and instinctively reached across the bed. The space beside him was cold.
His eyes flew open.
"Baby?"
He sat up immediately, panic rising in his chest as he scanned the empty room. Throwing off the blankets, he hurried out of the bedroom.
"Baby..."
He found Hyeonjoon standing in the living room. His shoulders trembled as silent tears streamed down his face.
He stood motionless before the shelf where they kept their trophies and medals, his gaze fixed on one particular piece.
His Worlds ring.
It felt impossibly heavy.
Not on his finger, but on his heart, like its weight alone was enough to crush his chest.
"They're right," Hyeonjoon whispered, his voice breaking. "I got carried..."
"No." Jihoon's answer came without hesitation.
Hyeonjoon let out a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob.
"I almost made the team lose back then..." His eyes never left the ring. "And now... I did."
Jihoon closed the distance between them, stopping just behind him.
"You didn't."
"I did."
"No." His voice was firm but gentle. "You lost a series with your team. It's a team game for a reason."
Hyeonjoon's shoulders shook harder.
"I want to quit."
"Baby..." Jihoon's expression fell. "No."
A bitter smile tugged at Hyeonjoon's lips.
"Maybe it's time."
Jihoon took another step closer, reaching for his hands.
"You still have a year left on your contract."
"And if I can't prove everyone wrong?" His voice cracked. "What if I keep playing like this? People will curse me for the rest of my life."
"They might," Jihoon admitted quietly. "Some people always will. But don't let strangers decide the last chapter of your career."
Silence settled between them.
"I don't want you making a decision while you're carrying all of this." Jihoon's thumb brushed across Hyeonjoon's knuckles.
"When you're in a better headspace, whether that's next week, next month, or at the end of the year, if you still want to retire, then we'll talk about it. I'll support you."
Hyeonjoon's eyes filled with tears again.
"But not today." Jihoon added.
"I'm tired." Hyeonjoon's voice was barely audible.
Jihoon stepped forward and wrapped both arms around him before Hyeonjoon could stop himself from falling apart.
"So tired." Hyeonjoon muttered against Jihoon's shoulders.
"Lean on me, baby. I'm here, always." Jihoon tighten his embrace as tight as he could.
It's a reminder that no matter how heavy today feels for Hyeonjoon, Jihoon will always be there for all of his tomorrows.