Chapter Text
It’s a regular work day. It always is. The telephone rings, printers whir as countless papers rapidly slide out of the machine, incessant clacking on keyboards and varying levels of coughs at random intervals fill the dreary atmosphere of the plain office. It’s all become background noise to Jungwon by this point, seeing as he’s worked here for the past three years.
That is, until the time clock goes off, signaling the start of unpaid lunch break. Jungwon sighs as he leans back against his swivel chair, drowning out the chatter of his coworkers asking each other what they wanted for lunch this time. They know better than to ask Jungwon to join them, not after the countless times he’s blown them off with a polite smile and repeated insistence that he’s packed his own lunch and prefers to eat it at his desk.
It’s not that he has anything against them or that he’s antisocial, he just doesn’t really wanna deal with the mind-numbing pleasantries and polite theatrics that everyone in the office plays at. Coworkers shouldn’t get too close — expected to always act professional but also never too closed-off, always ready to help whenever asked.
Though some of his coworkers actually do end up getting close to each other, Jungwon prefers not to divulge anything personal and to keep everyone in the office at arms-length by not initiating most conversations and only speaking once spoken to. It’s not exactly living the dream but it’s the quiet, stable life Jungwon’s always wanted for himself.
After a few moments of composing himself with eyes closed and hearing the door click shut as the rest of his coworkers trickle out towards the elevator, Jungwon grabs his phone to check for any new notifications or messages and immediately raises a brow at what he sees.
The old group chat with his friends from university has suddenly been revived after months of sporadic messages asking each other how work is going and subsequent vague responses that end up leading the conversation nowhere.
Jungwon swipes at his phone with one hand to open the messages as the other reaches inside his bag to take his packed lunch out. He puts his phone down on his desk momentarily as he goes to unseal his lunch box, the usual array of gimbap greeting his field of vision.
His eyes then quickly skim over the barrage of messages still continuing to flood the group chat, chewing on a couple of the rolls as he watches old friends who haven’t met since their graduation day greet each other. He wasn’t paying much attention to the ongoing conversation since he had no intent of replying anyway, until one text in particular immediately drew his eyes in and made him focus on it.
Sunghoon:
i overhead this when i was at lunch with my dad and his business partners
apparently
typing…
jay’s coming back to korea
Jungwon freezes with a gimbap clasped in his fingers.
Jay. It’s the name that never fails to haunt his very thoughts. The name that’s tied to countless precious memories that Jungwon’s been trying to bury deep into the recesses of his mind, but to no avail. His name burns on Jungwon’s tongue on the nights he can’t help but wail out pathetically from scabs that never fully healed, reliving the same pain over and over again and laying in the exact same bedroom where he lost everything in one night.
His appetite instantly diminished so he packed his lunch up, absentmindedly stashing it inside his bag. Jungwon manages to finish the rest of his shift with his mind on autopilot. Personal feelings always take a backseat to responsibilities, after all. Such is the reality of adulthood.
The realization truly kicks in by the time he’s clocked out and already in his apartment building. He’s halfway up the final flight of stairs to his floor when he collapses, stumbling over the last couple of steps before steadying himself onto his knees as he heaves a breath.
After a few moments of composing himself, he gets up shakily, trudging the few steps left leading to his unit. He fumbles with his keys to unlock the door and enter his one-bedroom apartment. It may be tiny but it was his own. It didn’t take long before he could no longer hold himself up, caving in to weakened knees and leaning against the door in his entryway.
He grips his arms tighter to himself on propped up knees as he looks around his own apartment. Jay is everywhere. He sees him in the color black, Jay’s favorite color, which Jungwon tends to gravitate to now. Jay is in the leather jackets and band tees he’s unknowingly accumulated over the years. It doesn’t hit him until he’s staring at his closet full of rocker chic-style clothing, his own style of soft comfortable pastels long replaced.
Jay is in the corn and potatoes he starts to eat more of. It started as an attempt to understand why the older boy likes it so much; now it’s become a staple in his diet. Jungwon hears him in the gentle strum of guitars in the background of mellow and sappy love songs, especially in old songs that play on the radio — the classics. Jay would revel in the authenticity of music made back in the days, produced to express and evoke, not just to chart.
Jay’s presence lingers in the stack of handmade gifts Jungwon hasn’t had the time to sort through and throw out yet. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Jay may be wealthy and could buy Jungwon anything he asked for but he preferred to hand him heartfelt gifts that were lovingly made by his own two hands, just to make Jungwon feel his affections more sincerely.
He would also buy him unique and gimmicky stuff he thought the younger boy would like or find joy in. Now, all these little trinkets hold feelings that no longer exist, taunting Jungwon every time his eyes spot them by the corner of his room.
Jay did give him a few expensive gifts, like a gold necklace with a tiny heart pendant that he had received back in the early days of them dating. Jungwon always had more of a silver undertone and doesn’t tend to wear gold jewelry. Nonetheless, the necklace stays displayed and untouched on his lone vanity.
Jay’s scent is embedded in Jungwon’s sheets. White honey and cherry musk prominent in his room, warm and cozy, after he impulsively spent his paycheck on the perfumes Jay used to always wear. Jungwon doesn’t even like perfumes nor does he ever wear any out, yet he could never bear to part with the scent that felt like home.
Jungwon thinks he can’t get any more pathetic than this — still pining over his ex who broke up with him over three years ago. He thinks of Jay every single day, subconsciously hearing his voice in the back of his head, his words echoing previous conversations they’ve had over practically everything.
Every time he cooks for himself, Jay’s voice rings in his head, almost nagging at him. Any time he spots a stray cat on the street, his mind makes him think of their previous plans of adopting strays together. Even in doing something as simple as shampooing his hair, Jungwon instinctively recalls Jay’s advice to shampoo at night to effectively get the gunk off his hair accrued during the day.
He even sees Jay in the mundane, everyday things. He tries not to and really doesn’t want to, but the older boy seeps into his thoughts every now and then, like a parasite in his brain that he can’t get rid of.
Frankly, Jungwon is sick of thinking about him. He's even almost forgotten what Jay looks like after years of not seeing him and avoiding his posts on social media like the plague. Now, Jay’s coming back and they’ll see each other for the first time since their breakup.
Jungwon subconsciously picks at the giant scab on his ankle as his mind races. It started out as a tiny wound that he kept scratching on every time he was stressed or feeling anxious, until it became enlarged and took up his entire right ankle.
Anyone who’s ever seen the nasty gaping wound, despite his attempts to hide it beneath socks, always tells him to stop scratching and picking at it — to let it heal by itself, but Jungwon’s guilty.
Deep down, he wants it to heal and even resolves himself to apply ointment once in a while to let it heal. However, there are days when his progress gets set back and he ends up sabotaging his own healing, even when he was so close to finally closing it.
He can’t help it — it feels really good to satisfy the itch, even if it always leads to reopened wounds. Even if it leads to excruciating pain that he keeps on reliving, he can’t help but need the immediate relief as opposed to enduring the long and grueling time it takes to truly heal.
Call him a masochist, if you will, but the pain can be comforting. Sometimes, it’s all he has and all he wants to feel. He’d rather restart the cycle and then foolishly hope it ends differently the next time.
Jungwon stares at his freshly reopened wound, blood and clear fluid gushing out of the marred skin. Unresolved feelings and memories he’s almost blocked out begin to flow into his mind and roll out like a vintage film. He’s suddenly sent back to simpler times, when he was younger and more naive.
Very few would call him a mischievous kid, well his grandmother certainly would. To everyone else, Jungwon was a good and well-behaved kid, especially in school. A little quiet and withdrawn, but he was an outstanding student — always finished his homework early, always read his books ahead of time, paid attention in class and excelled during exams.
Unbeknownst to his parents and teachers, the little boy viewed school as a mere battleground, his classmates as rivals and competition, his examinations as opportunities to prove himself and his teachers as bestowers of awards that will surely grant him his mother’s love and attention if he gets enough of them.
His unwillingness to play with kids his age and concerning lack of knowledge on how to interact with his peers essentially secured his spot as the school outcast, yet none of that mattered to him. It never once occurred to his callow mind that school was a place to make friends and get along with kids his age, so he never made it a priority.
In his little mind, he always thought that if he was a good enough kid, at home and at school, it’d all become worth it. He hoped if he earned enough medals and awards, his mother’s anger would subside and his father would come home more often, instead of taking on more business trips to get away from him and his mother.
His desperation to be loved by the ones who were supposed to always care for him led him to take up as little space as possible and simply embody silence, to the point he’d become self-conscious if he so much as put a cup down on the table too loudly or breathed too hard.
He’d swallow every complaint or negative thing he had to say and put on his good and obedient child facade in front of his parents, all to not add on to their burdens. His grandmother, the one who basically raised him alone, was the only one to know of his true personality and love him for who he was, no matter how rowdy or troublesome.
Her sudden death at his tender age of ten made his inhibited tendencies so much worse. It made him become an easy target for other kids. No matter what they did to him, he never so much as budged or complained. Even when he ended up littered in bruises and colored in dried up wounds as he tried his best to sit upright in front of the guidance counselor’s desk, he never once tattled — always wanting to be seen as the good kid, even to cruel peers.
His mother ended up enrolling him in taekwondo classes, as per the guidance counselor’s advice, in hopes that he’d be taught self-defense and be socialized more. Jungwon initially worried that it would become a hindrance to his studies until he realized it was another one of the expectations his mother unknowingly piled onto him. Thus, he focused all of his efforts on taekwondo on days when his academics required less of his attention.
Jungwon was thirteen, in his second year of middle school, when the newly formed band club moved right next door to the taekwondo club’s room. The band club’s room was soundproofed with egg cartons shoddily taped against the walls while the proposed budget for better soundproofing was still in negotiations buried underneath files containing more pressing concerns in the student council room.
It’s why students from the taekwondo club would regularly hear an array of instrumentation coming from the room next door — the mellow chords on a keyboard, guttural screaming disguised as singing ripped out from someone’s lungs, heavy banging on the drums and fiery riffs on electric guitars. Their instructor merely tells them to shift their focus and concentrate on their own stances.
Jungwon was alone, practicing his stances and kicks, when his quiet focus was disrupted by the faint strumming of an acoustic guitar. He tried his best to ignore it, closing his eyes and doing breathing exercises to tune the sound out, before raising his fists and shifting the balance on his foot as he readied himself to attempt a kick again.
Despite his efforts, the unfamiliar melody filled his ears again. It was louder this time, gradually intensifying, as if the player was getting more immersed in their own playing. It was simply alluring.He never even knew that the resident band club had an acoustic guitar. He always assumed from the constant noises that they were the type to only play hardcore genres such as rock or metal.
Jungwon’s curiosity got the better of him which led him right outside the room adjacent theirs, fingers latching onto the side of the door that was left wide open and slowly peeking into the room as the music reverberated off its walls.
He spots a boy sitting by himself in the middle of the room, a guitar perched on top of one leg as the other was elevated slightly to rest on the chair’s stretcher. Upon squinting in an attempt to identify him, Jungwon’s breath got caught in his throat.
The boy playing the guitar leaned forward slightly, strands of his raven hair gracefully falling and framing one side of his face, glinting as they filtered the sun’s rays coming in from open windows behind him. His sharp profile from the side graced Jungwon’s vision, the outline of a strong nose and razor sharp jaw seized his breath.
The boy’s eyes were closed, face eased into a wistful expression, gently bobbing his head to the rhythm, the veins on his hand flexing as one hand strummed and plucked while the other shifted across the neck of the guitar to play another chord. The boy was just as mesmerizing as the melody he’d been playing, if not more.
Jungwon jolted once the strumming came to an abrupt stop, quickly moving to hide behind the wall so as to not be spotted staring like a creep. A few beats passed before the boy resumed his playing and Jungwon swiftly sneaked back to their own room.
From then on, Jungwon would regularly see him in the hallways on afternoons after class, guitar case sitting heavy on his back but his hand clasped with ease on the strap slung around his shoulders each time he made his way to the band club’s room. Jungwon would be posted by the window, eyes fixed on the boy as he passed by.
Despite seeing him nearly everyday, Jungwon never once made an attempt to approach the boy, his heart fluttering in his chest and palms clammy at the mere sight of him. He couldn’t tell if it was just anxiety or something else entirely.
Though he really wanted to, Jungwon knew he could never bring himself to go up to the other boy and utter even a single word in front of him. His fears gripped too tightly onto him, making him rigid at the thought of it. He later began to put a name to it — crippling social anxiety.
Perhaps it was the result of not trusting his own voice, growing up under an authoritarian mother who never once encouraged him to voice his own opinions or to ever be himself. He was forced to always listen as his mother spoke over him. Her belief that she was always right made him subconsciously believe it too.
He loves his mother, don’t get him wrong, but he also wished she allowed him to grow up on his own without constantly judging his every move, to the point he now fears judgement itself. He’s sensitive to any form of perceived ridicule, even an unintended sigh or offhand remark made towards him would keep him up most nights.
Social anxiety itself is mostly a self-fulfilling prophecy. The assumption that everyone dislikes a person makes them naturally avoid people in fear of scrutiny over every action. This avoidance makes others think that such a person is unapproachable, uptight and thinks of themselves as above everyone else even if they really think otherwise, which is exactly what makes people not like them in the first place.
Jungwon often thinks it’s funny how ridiculously irrational it is to be afraid of people. Still, he can’t help it once his throat closes up and burns, tears well up in his eyes, his skin pricks and freezes, his stomach churns and he feels like puking before he even does something as simple as speaking.
Over the years, he’s learned to build up walls and mould plastic masks to try to appear normal, when all the raging mess is inside his head. It's self-destruction, self-torture, and inner turmoil before anything ever really happens. He’s grown sick and tired after years of suffering from it.
His breaking point eventually came in the form of his mother’s harsh chastising during his middle school graduation. She noticed the decline in awards he usually receives and the significant drop in his grades from skipping class on days when he has to present in front of everyone or when his anxiety got the better of him. On that night, Jungwon shakily reached for the hefty allowance he’d secretly stashed under his mattress over the years, hatching a plan in his mind as he tried to soothe himself.
By that weekend, he found himself in the waiting room of a complex building nearby, glancing around the room as he bounced his legs in anticipation. He observed the rainbow decorations and children’s artwork plastered on the walls, children’s toys scattered all over the floor, and a fairly large kinetic sand play box by the corner of the room.
He never would’ve pegged this to be a therapy center had he not read beforehand that this place served to help people suffering as a result of childhood trauma. Quite fitting for him, Jungwon thinks.
He caught sight of a figure by his peripheral vision. A boy with sharp eyes and angular features, comparable to his own height and build. It’s him, Jungwon instantly recognizes. In spite of his curiosity for what the other boy could be here for, Jungwon merely keeps to himself and looks down at his feet, ignoring the familiar sensation of his heart pounding and palms getting clammy. Once he’s called in, he’s met with the man he would call his psychologist for the years to come.
When Jungwon was asked if he considers himself to be part of the LGBTQ+ community during the assessment for his condition, he hesitates before nodding. He figures that there’s no use in lying to his therapist since that would only be to his own detriment.
The weeks of therapy sessions spanning the short summer break leading up to his high school year passed by in a blink and Jungwon would see that same boy from time to time, waiting a few seats apart or across from him in the waiting room or passing each other by at the door after the other boy’s session concluded and Jungwon’s began.
Several sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy twice a week enabled Jungwon to finally grow a bit of a spine and approach the other boy, albeit apprehensively. By the time Jungwon arrived at the therapy center’s waiting room on one of his scheduled days, he spotted the other boy already lounging on one of the many unoccupied seats. He took a few deep breaths before cautiously taking a seat right next to the other boy, posture timid and mousy.
“Hey.” Jungwon managed to utter above a whisper, nodding slightly towards his side. The other boy, upon noticing the presence that had appeared beside him, shook the initial surprise off his face and immediately moved to take off his earbuds before facing Jungwon.
“Hey.” He curtly replied, returning the slight nod. Before the awkward silence could entirely invade their small bubble, Jungwon seized the chance to quickly introduce himself.
“I-I’m Jungwon”. He muttered, suppressing the strong urge to bow his head down and allow his fringe to block most of his view. Instead, he maintained eye contact with the middle of the other boy’s eyebrows, face slightly furrowed as if he was on a serious mission. His mind flits through his therapist’s advice to keep talking, even if he stumbles over his words, just as long as he can get his thoughts out.
“Hi there, Jungwon. I’m Jay." A small intrigued smile tugged at the corners of the other boy’s lips. Jay. I finally got his name. Jungwon gaped at him in silence for the next few seconds, suddenly at a loss for words as he grew unsure of where to take the conversation.
Jay chuckled, almost as if he were endeared by the other boy’s hesitation. “So, what are you here for?” He asked, suddenly taking up the brunt of carrying the conversation since it seemed like the other boy still wanted to keep it going. Relief flooded Jungwon at Jay’s decision to indulge him.
“It might be obvious by now.” Jungwon nibbled on his lower lip, bunny teeth peeking through as he fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie.
“Anxiety?”
“Social, yeah.” Jay softly hummed in response.
“I’m here for depression… plus some kind of E.D. Not too much of a big deal, really. Well, until they work in tandem to kick my ass.” Jay shrugged in an obvious attempt to act nonchalant but Jungwon could sense that he was only half-joking.
Jay prodded at Jungwon by asking more questions just to get him talking and then answering diffident questions directed at him in return — their conversation only interrupted once the attendant called for Jay to come in for his session.
“Well, that’s me. See ya.” Jay bid him goodbye with a small smile that made Jungwon’s heart stutter.
Ever since then, Jungwon looked forward to his sessions, making sure to arrive at the complex at least an hour and a half before his actual session just to spend a couple of minutes talking to Jay. He’s always pleasantly surprised yet secretly pleased to see the other boy always already there with his earbuds in, only taken out once he spots the timid boy approaching him.
They eventually found out that they were going to the same high school, Jay only a year above him even if they were two years apart in age since Jungwon was accelerated for being born early in the year and deemed intelligent enough to skip an entire grade. Jungwon’s hopeless middle school crush might just end up being rekindled this time in high school.
It started with small greetings exchanged briefly in the school hallways to conversations in passing during breaks to hanging out alone together after classes, until Jungwon eventually became somewhat acquainted with Jay’s closest friends. Sunghoon and Jake were nice but Jungwon always hid behind and clung to Jay whenever they were in the midst of others and not just alone together; always trailing close behind Jay like a lost puppy, which the older boy didn’t seem to mind.
No one ever expected the two to get along as well as they did. On a surface level, they seemed like polar opposites. Jungwon, timid and self-effacing, while Jay was more forthcoming and rigorous. Contrary to everyone’s assumptions, that actually made it easier for them to get along.
Whenever they were in the same vicinity, it always felt like an invisible barrier was erected containing just the two boys, inadvertently shutting everyone else out. They would get so encapsulated in their own world whenever they’re with each other, as if everyone else around them ceased to exist. Carefree gazes and smiles were almost always directed towards the other, unrestrained joy visible on both their faces with every word they shared to each other.
With Jay, Jungwon’s fears of being himself around others were almost instantly buried in the back of his head. All the tension and nerves residing in his bones melted away at the sight of the older boy, Jay’s gaze and little eyebrow twitches directed to Jungwon quietly reassuring and his gentle touches a source of comfort to Jungwon.
Jay essentially served as Jungwon’s crutch during group settings, echoing the younger boy’s whispered words for the rest of his friends to hear and interpreting on his behalf whenever Jungwon was too overstimulated or simply not in the mood to be verbal. Jungwon was always pleasantly surprised whenever Jay could hear even his quietest and incomprehensible murmurs.
Usually he’d just be asked to speak up a few more times, with teachers invading his personal space by going a mere inch or two in front of his face just to yell at him to repeat what he meant to say, making him stutter and stumble over his words even more. Jungwon often gets the idea that it might be a form of power play but he always dismisses it. He’s not able to do anything about it anyway. Now, he had someone who could hear and was willing to listen to the whispers buried deep within his heart.
The mere thought that Jay seemed to always be able to pick out Jungwon’s faint voice among the loud bickering of his friends comforted the younger boy endlessly. The older boy would often encourage Jungwon to voice out his thoughts and then whisper praises for his attempts to speak up even when it goes unheard, knowing how much of a challenge it was for Jungwon to even think about doing it.
There were times when the younger boy felt gutted every time someone forgot his name midsentence or called him by another name, but Jay was always quick to correct them whenever it happened. Jungwon doesn’t know if the older boy simply has keen hearing, or if he was just paying that much attention to Jungwon’s words and was somehow sensitive to his needs. Jungwon used to easily fade into the background of everyone else’s noise, but there was this one person who somehow always noticed his absence.
With every conversation held privately in the proximity of shared spaces or in the comfort of their own homes through screens, they bore their souls out to each other, hacking at each other’s high walls bit by bit.
Jay began to open up about his terrible relationship with food. His trauma mostly stemmed from his abusive mother forcing him to finish everything on his plate, not a single grain of rice was to be left over, or else he was deemed a bad child and punished for it. His body image fluctuated over being continuously told by his mother’s relatives that he was unfit and needed to lose weight, despite being far from overweight.
Food was a reward he could only have if his mother felt he was being a good enough child so he indulged in the instances he was granted access to, yet constant criticism from the rest of his family would make him work out until he was on the brink of passing out. This conflicting relationship with what is supposed to be a basic necessity of life led him to develop an unhealthy view of food.
Jungwon quietly observed Jay whenever they had lunch together, noticing how he only had an appetite on days when he felt like he did well in his classes or extracurriculars. Everyone else would be too distracted by the older boy’s incessant yapping to realize how he merely played with his food and never had a single bite on days when he felt insufficient.
On such days, Jungwon would silently take some of the barely touched food while Jay took the hint and egged the younger boy on to eat more in order to grow taller and stronger, silently hoping that he could be seen as just a thoughtful upperclassman looking out for the younger one. Whatever happens later when he is curled up in the solitary confines of his room surrounded by meager leftovers of all the food he could hoard from their pantry was his to keep.
Over the months, Jay and Jungwon’s bond was steadily forged by the other covering up for their individual weaknesses and being endlessly supportive of each other. Jungwon’s never been able to keep a friendship past the awkward stage of getting to know each other so it all felt new to him, but he was determined to become Jay's friend.
The younger boy learned how to be encouraging and vocal with his support for Jay when he tried out intermittent fasting. He also learned to pick up a few social cues and stash basic phrases often used during casual conversation that he got solely from observing the older boy with his friends and acquaintances.
Jungwon began to notice the little things about his best friend. When Jay laughs, it's endearing how his eyes instantly crinkle into slim crescents, the top of his nose creases, and the wrinkles under his eyes give way to an enormous grin showing off a perfect set of teeth.
His chuckles are rich, deep and resonant, often making him sound classy and sophisticated. When Jay speaks, the timbre in his voice is simply mesmerizing as he drones on and on about whatever his latest hyperfixation was at the moment.
Still, Jungwon never zoned out whenever Jay rambled. Instead, he listened attentively to his every word, quietly noting certain things and looking all of it up later. Jay was ecstatic when Jungwon was able to share his own thoughts and opinions on his passions, even more so when the younger eventually became interested in some of his own interests.
Jungwon doesn’t miss Jay’s adorable little habits, or his frequent moments of clumsiness and embarrassment that he easily takes into stride, or whenever his face morphs into unexpectedly cute and animated expressions, or the heart-shaped birthmark on the side of his neck that Jungwon resists the urge to kiss.
The butterflies in his stomach going haywire over so much as a look or a smile thrown his way didn’t go unnoticed either. Even the mere thought of Jay never failed to make him nervous; his very presence made the younger boy feel as if currents of electricity zapped him beneath his skin, heightening his senses every time Jay was near.
Jungwon was sixteen, only in his second year of high school, when he finally acknowledged to himself the underlying feelings that had been simmering over the past few years since middle school, only growing stronger as the days passed by.
Though, Jungwon wasn’t the only one who noticed the older boy. Jay had never been the golden boy that everyone at school idolized. Instead, he was the boy that made you falter a little at his sharp gaze, the guy you couldn’t help but think is the epitome of ‘passion’, the eagerness to prove his worth evident in every strum of his guitar and furrow in his eyebrows. His pure musical prowess and intense demeanor somehow drew you in and enchanted you, the type of guy you’d know has a good head on his shoulders and who was widely sought out exactly for how capable and earnest he was.
Whispers across the hallways pierced Jungwon's ears every time Jay passed by with him in tow. Not exactly ‘secret’ admirers loitered outside of Jay’s classroom and clubroom just to catch a glimpse of him, some having the guts to go up to Jay to ask for help or advice on simple matters which the older boy didn’t mind all that much to oblige.
Rumors circulated about one of Jay’s clubmates being among the very few who were more forward with their feelings for him. Jungwon would often be posted right outside the band club’s room, waiting patiently for the older boy to wrap up the guitar lessons he taught to his fellow club members for the day so that they could walk home together.
From the windows, he could spot the rumored girl lean closer and blink slowly up at Jay with a coy smile on her face while the guitarist singlemindedly explained the theory and demonstrated the fingerings of the song she was learning to play. Jungwon knew from a glance that Jay was anything but interested. Still, the younger boy’s heart dropped every time their faces got close enough for their breaths to intermingle.
Jay was nonplussed to share how he’d suddenly received his favorite brand of chocolate from that very same girl out of nowhere, especially when he’d never even revealed that fact to anyone before. The intention behind the gift had clearly not been lost on him as he ripped the treat open and offered a piece for Jungwon to taste, quickly crumpling the little note attached to it behind his back and tossing it in the bin alongside the plastic.
In a way, Jungwon envies that girl. After all, he is nothing if not a coward. Whatever feelings he secretly harbored for the other boy were never to see the light of day, he vowed to himself. He was afraid of many things, and these fears held him back from ever expressing any form of affection beyond that of friendship.
Still, he could feel it in certain drawn-out moments that highlighted unspoken feelings, the sparks beginning to ignite between them. The things they were doing together and to each other blurred the line between friendship and lovers. The fact that they were getting closer with every passing day eased Jungwon’s worries and lifted his hopes of their friendship someday turning into more.
Whatever little hopes Jungwon had of his feelings being reciprocated were instantly dashed the moment Jay all of a sudden revealed to him on a random Monday afternoon while walking home together that he had just confessed to his crush, who was an upperclassman in the same club. It shocked Jungwon to the core that Jay even had a crush. After all, he’s never even said anything nor hinted about it.
The confession supposedly took place after class when Jay asked to speak privately to her behind their club room, which unfortunately ended in a rejection for reasons the older boy kept to himself. He was hurt, of course, but respected her decision nonetheless. What irked him most was when she immediately told everyone and bragged about his confession after he explicitly told her not to; her ego winning over her sense of decency.
Jungwon spent the next few days right beside Jay, comforting him whenever he could while still reeling over the fact that Jay liked someone who wasn’t him. He had thought that there was at least something between them and was stuck in a state of denial.
That is, until Jay openly admitted to him that he’s someone who’s not afraid of confessing and that he’ll always tell someone right away once he begins to feel something for them. Only then did he realize how foolish he had been to ever think otherwise.
His unrequited feelings were further cemented by Jay gushing to him about his next crush. He was paired for a project in class with a guy he had his eye on. It was an art class which involved portraying their partner’s image in a creative manner, so he immediately started asking for advice from Jungwon, whom he knew had a hobby of sketching.
Jungwon faked a smile and gave him some advice laced with thinly veiled hurt in his voice while Jay enthusiastically raved on about how handsome his crush was and how they were pretty much flirting with each other. Jungwon merely listened, trying his best to not to let it show how his heart was slowly cracking. He gets it, that guy’s everything he’ll never be.
Jay eventually finds out towards the end of the project that his crush was straight and already had a lover. Jungwon doesn’t feel an ounce of relief even as Jay assures him that he’s fine and that he feels like he’ll meet someone else. He couldn't even use the excuse that Jay didn’t like him back due to his sexuality. It’s simply that Jungwon was never even seen as an option for a romantic interest. He’s clearly just not Jay’s type.
It hurt even more whenever Jay tried to push Jungwon towards other people, drilling into his head the fact that the older boy really didn't feel the same or even see him as anything more than just a friend.
“I guess no one’s ever really caught my attention before.” Jungwon replied simply with his head hung down as he swung his legs back and forth when asked why he doesn’t ever have crushes on anyone.
“Alright. Just tell me when you’re starting to crush on someone. I’ll be there to support you just like you’ve been doing for me.” I actually have, for years now. Those words never got past Jungwon's mouth as he pressed his lips thinly together and silently nodded.
The dull dagger wedged into his chest twisted deeper and dug more at his insides every time Jay was being too nice to him, too kind, too gentle, too attentive, just being his perfect self around him and everything Jungwon wanted for himself, when he knew he could never have him.
Jungwon thinks his life couldn’t get any worse when it does, with his mother eventually finding out about him secretly going to therapy. He comes home fresh from an after-school session to see his mother by the porch with hands firmly crossed and a stern look on her face. He felt his heart rate quicken as his stomach dropped, instinctively knowing that something was wrong. She silently beckoned him inside and he reluctantly followed.
It wasn’t long before all hell broke loose in their kitchen. Jungwon’s mother fired off into a heated tirade about knowing that he’s been lying to her face about after-school tutoring sessions. She had secretly tailed him that afternoon heading to the therapy center right after classes were dismissed.
She refused to listen even after Jungwon collapsed into tears and pleaded on his knees before her, instead, telling him to quit attending sessions or she would cut off all of his allowance. The reason simply being she didn’t want others to know that there was something wrong with her son. She didn’t want rumors to spread among the neighbors or their relatives and wanted to keep up the facade of a ‘perfect family’. It didn’t matter that his dad was rarely seen at home or that the people in the household barely spoke to one another. In the end, she cared more about appearances than her own son’s wellbeing, which deeply gutted Jungwon but no longer surprised him.
Graduations had never been a happy memory. For Jungwon, it always ended in either a heavy dispute about something as stupid and trifling as the wrinkles in his uniform he forgot to iron out or silent treatment if his mother was suddenly pissed at something else and ultimately decided to take it out on him, sometimes both.
Regardless, it always ended with her young son wallowing in his own misery, the celebration for his accomplishments always overshadowed by whatever little thing his mom had decided to nitpick him with on that day.
By the nth awarding ceremony that Jungwon’s mother failed to attend, his own teacher having to stand beside him on behalf of his parents and his grandmother who was the one to take him out and buy him his favorite snacks to celebrate being long gone, he realized that none of his efforts over the past seventeen years of his life were worth it.
So, Jungwon began to direct his attention towards his social life which he’d been seriously neglecting. Other than Jay, he had no one else he could truly call a friend, and he couldn’t even consider the other boy to be just a friend.
Jungwon ultimately decided to try more and began to really put into practice everything he’d learned over years of therapy despite no longer going. He got himself to go out more, practiced projecting his voice to be heard more easily, expressed his thoughts and opinions out loud even if no one asked, and just did his best to try despite his fears.
It always felt like playing a visual novel on the hardest difficulty, trying to pick out the best possible dialogue among limited choices but it’s clear that most, if not all, the options you chose are the wrong ones every time the confusion and puzzlement seeps through people’s silent yet judging gazes. It may not have started out well but it got easier the more he did it, so he kept at it until his anxiety became a little more manageable with every social interaction he forced himself to have.
Less and less time and attention were dedicated towards his studying and academic endeavors, and more time was spent in group hangouts and parties together with Jay and his friends, who eventually ended up becoming his own group of friends. His exam scores dipped lower and lower, straying further from the top where he used to always sit, yet he still earned just enough to pass all of his subjects.
At first, it seemed like a massive tradeoff that Jungwon was hesitant to continue doing. He even doubted if it was worth losing all his track record over, then he realized how much of his life he was missing out on and depriving himself of just for the mirage of validation and success he was never guaranteed to obtain. It was actually fun to enjoy his youth for once, until it wasn’t.
Jungwon was freshly eighteen when he graduated high school with no recognition nor awards to his name for the first time in his life. He dreaded the thought of going home that day, knowing exactly what awaited him. It was no surprise when he got called by his mother as her greatest disappointment, devoid of any emotion in her voice whatsoever, which terrified him more than any level of her fury ever could.
Jungwon stared at the wall for hours on end that day, chaos and devastation ravaged his mind. Years spent chasing after his mother’s validation and affection weighed heavily on his chest yet somewhere deep down, it lifted the pressure off his shoulders, allowing him to feel somewhat relieved.
His mother stopped caring where he went. She stopped having expectations for him so that he could no longer disappoint her no matter what he did. In a way, he was crushed but felt freed all at the same time.
“That’s seriously fucked up. You’re definitely worth more than your grades.” Jay protested as he moved to engulf Jungwon in a warm and comforting hug, sighing as he tightened his hold on the younger boy.
“I'm proud of you for just finishing your studies and trying your best.” He whispered softly, lips barely grazing the tip of the younger boy’s ear. Jungwon’s heart swelled and he felt his cheeks heat up at the words.
With Jungwon’s mother no longer caring about his whereabouts, he spent more time at Jay’s house, even sleeping over most nights. Back then, he used to tremble at the thought of asking his mother for permission to go out, monitoring her mood for the day and practicing the words in his head over and over again before he could even muster the courage to go up to her.
Most times, he could already tell her answer was a resounding no before he even said anything once he spotted her fuming and stomping all around the house over something else entirely. Now, he was free to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted, so he chose to spend most of his time with his favorite person.
After spending the day at university eating lunch together whenever they could and studying in the library beside each other during their concurrent break times, they’d go straight towards Jay’s house and stay cooped up in his room until it was time for dinner.
The two spent most of their time studying in silence beside each other. If they weren’t too occupied with exams or projects, they’d unwind by playing video games on consoles or on Jay’s PC, reading comic books, watching random movies, or just having mindless conversations while staring up at the neon glow-in-the-dark stars stuck arbitrarily on the ceiling of Jay’s room.
“If you could marry any of our friends, who’d it be?” Jay asked him randomly as they laid on their backs after one of their intense gaming sessions.
You. It was a no-brainer but Jungwon pretended to think about it more before replying, “Sunghoon-hyung”
“Why?” Jay craned his neck to look curiously at Jungwon to his side.
“Because he’s nice, kind, thoughtful and a supportive hyung. He always accompanies me to the gym. He's funny too.” Jungwon shrugged.
Jay seemed to ponder on Jungwon’s answer for a few moments before nodding and turning his head back up towards the ceiling. He tucked an arm behind his head as he replied, “For me, it’d be you.”
Jungwon’s heart stopped for a millisecond. “Why?” He asked, biting his lower lip after successfully suppressing a stutter.
“Well, because you’re cute and I’d wanna take care of you.” Jay nonchalantly told him in response before smoothly moving on to another topic. Jungwon struggled to focus for the rest of that night.
Jungwon was always there for Jay. Years of unrequited love only made him grow content with staying as his best friend. He’d do anything to keep Jay in his life, even settling for being just his friend for the rest of their lives. Jungwon was always there to listen to Jay vent out his frustrations, especially regarding his worsening family situation.
Jungwon eventually discovered that Jay was an illegitimate child of a business tycoon who lived in the U.S. His father had been out of the picture ever since he was two, leaving him with his mother and her relatives in Seoul and not staying in contact up until the death of his grandfather.
When Jay’s grandfather died a month before the end of his junior year of university, there was the issue of inheritance. Distant uncles and aunts arrived from all over to fight for their share. Jay’s father had been the one slated to inherit the majority of the assets according to the will, which caused a massive uproar.
All of a sudden, Jay’s father started showing his presence in his life by sending over gifts that he thought his son would like, random stuff boys his age would usually appreciate. Jay did not care for any of it since his father didn’t even care nor bother to know what Jay actually liked. He just needed an heir to secure the family’s generational wealth.
Jungwon stuck with him throughout everything, trying his best to whisper comforting words that Jay needed to hear and providing hugs and tender touches whenever Jay needed a grounding presence.
Jungwon continued to always indulge Jay in his interests, gazing adoringly at the older boy’s excited face as he went on and on about whatever latest fixation he had. Their friends would often find them sitting underneath the shade of an enormous tree in the fields, sharing earbuds with classics such as Green Day and John Mayer blasting in the midst of the sweltering afternoon sun.
They regularly engaged in deep conversations, especially in the dead of night, their individual thoughts and opinions too stimulating for them to fall asleep to so they’d end up just talking until the crack of dawn.
Sometimes, these discussions ended in heated arguments, both of them not hesitating to butt heads over differing opinions and neither backing down as they stubbornly stated their case until one of them had their mind changed or they ended up too exhausted to further argue.
“You’re really fun to be with.” Jay told him with a disbelieving laugh after one of their long disputes. Jungwon’s cheeks reddened even more, no longer in exasperation but in exhilaration.
Perhaps that’s how he finally caught the other boy’s long-coveted attention.
Jay had to spend two weeks of his semestral break traveling around the outskirts of South Korea with his father who, out of the blue, arrived at Seoul. Well, he was practically forced to go, supposedly for some long overdue father-son bonding time.
Those two weeks felt like an eternity to both boys, having spent all their time attached at the hip for the past few years. Jay settled for updating Jungwon practically every hour by sending pictures of literally anything — mostly selfies featuring his own duck face taken from various unflattering angles, random things he spots on the road, the occasional scenery, a stray cat that had taken a liking to him, shots taken of random locals and tourists, as well as the adventures and activities his dad spent on in an attempt to fill the awkward silence Jay purposely left in to protest what was essentially his kidnapping.
Once Jay came back from the trip, something had shifted in their relationship. Jay looked almost resolute about something, moving with more confidence and less hesitation, as if he had realized and decided on something to pour his heart out onto. Jungwon didn’t mind whatever it was when he felt like he was on the receiving end of it.
It was becoming almost too obvious how much Jay doted on the younger boy. He’d always put up with Jungwon’s playful side that he was beginning to show more of to Jay — overly patient in tolerating his little antics and small pranks, and easily giving in whenever the younger boy jumped on his shoulders for piggyback rides or pulled his limbs across the floor of his room whenever he was too lazy to get up to do whatever Jungwon’s recent flight of fancy was.
Though they already spent most of their time together, Jay took it upon himself to get more involved in Jungwon’s own interests, watching him sketch and trying out Overwatch just to spend more time with him. The senior would prepare Jungwon’s favorite strawberry milk and a few packs of chocolate beforehand every time they planned to study together in the library, secretly handing the junior a few pieces under the table whenever he complained about getting too hungry or tired from studying.
Jay began cooking for Jungwon once he noticed that the younger boy had been the one preparing his own meals. His mother leaving him to his own devices meant she also no longer cared for him in the way she used to. Jungwon didn’t mind all that much if he got to gaze at the muscular backside of a dashing hunk in his kitchen preparing the delectable meals they’d soon be eating together.
They could spend hours just talking to each other, phrases slowly slipping into each other’s vocabulary, losing track of time with every conversation, getting lost in each others’ eyes and stumbling over words when the butterflies in their stomach soared higher and got caught in their throats.
Texting had become their norm, Jay often chatting with him at odd hours of the night, especially when his insomnia kicked in. Jungwon giddily replied to Jay’s every text while trying to hide his phone, making sure his mother was never close enough to see their chats. Even if she claimed she didn’t care, he could never be too cautious about an unsuspecting look over his shoulder.
They used to chat throughout Jay's sleepless nights, especially after he became immune to the melatonin he was taking. Jungwon’s sleep schedule be damned, as long as he got to text Jay all night long, fingers trailing off his phone’s keyboard after sending his most final actual ‘goodnight’ text with his phone loosely gripped in his hand and dozing off in surrender to the countless attempts of fighting sleep .
Jungwon was twenty, a junior in university, when he finally heard the words he’d always longed to hear but had given up on hoping he ever would. It happened right outside his house in the passenger seat of Jay’s new car that his father had just gifted him, in a voice just above a whisper yet sounding absolutely firm and certain, with an unwavering gaze that pierced right through Jungwon’s very being.
“I love you.” Jungwon abruptly slapped his cheeks, suddenly wanting to check if he’d imagined or dreamt this all up. Jay chuckled at how adorable the younger boy was being, before swiftly adding on in a more serious and resolute tone, “Not just as a friend, either. I know we’ve been friends for a while now, but somewhere along the way I started to see you differently. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet or if you don’t see me that way. I’ll do my best to change your mind.”
Jay gently took Jungwon’s hands and enveloped them in his much larger ones, glistening eyes leveled to Jungwon’s own and pupils flickered as if trying to surmise how the younger boy felt, before slowly leaning in and whispering, “Would you like to give us a try?”
Jungwon could no longer trust his voice to deliver his emotions properly as tears brimmed by the corners of his eyes, so he settled for a nod. A couple increasingly eager nods, in fact, along with a grin slowly formed and matched Jay’s as the older boy ardently moved to entangle their limbs in a tight embrace, feeling the heavy thud of each other’s hearts as their fingers trailed up and down the other’s back.
In the midst of hushed phrases with their foreheads lightly pressed together, Jungwon finally admitted how he’d been feeling for the senior boy for the past seven years, how Jay’s feelings were reciprocated the entire time and how he actually loved him first.
Jay unceremoniously collapsed into Jungwon’s arms in tears, crying out of pure shock and relief, the younger boy having a hard time prying him off once he began peppering kisses all over Jungwon’s face who was also unsuccessfully fighting off tears and a wide grin.
Sighs of relief and breathless laughter echoed into the silence of the night. In the back of Jungwon’s mind, however, he somehow knew that he’d be the cause of their eventual demise. Still, he shelved that dreadful thought in favor of blissful ignorance.