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The wind twists and turns on it’s path through the sky, enveloping Jaebum in a wash of cold, all his hairs standing on end as he watches his boots hit cement, clunking along the icy pavement. They’re gum-spotted and remind him of his childhood, the nostalgia kicking through his veins as a couple of leaves fall from sparse branches above.
He nears the house with every breath and every step and suddenly the fear of everything catches up to him, freezing him in place as his eyes fall on the tall, black door, brandished with the number 22 in cold steel. It slides through his guts, churns and rumbles inside him as he’s struck with the urge to cry and run, run as far as his legs will carry him, back past the bus stop and all the way to the station. He doesn’t want to leave but he’s not sure he can do this, and every pound of his heartbeat in his ears brings him closer to passing out. He shouldn’t have ever left, should never have deserted the people and places he loved most as a young child.
He’s completely snapped out of his daze of self-pity by the sound of the door opening, the catch unleashed, and his voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade.
“Honey, did you make sure to leave the recycling bin in the same—”
Jaebum can’t breathe, can’t focus on anything but Jinyoung in front of him with a large garbage bag in hand, their eyes caught on each other as Jinyoung’s words fade away to nothing. He looks incredible, Jaebum notes, with his long legs and stylish hair, the same sparkling eyes he had as a kid. It just makes him feel worse.
“Surprise.” Jaebum breathes, not sure Jinyoung even heard him, and he wants to kick himself for how stupid it sounds. How fucking asshole-ish it sounds.
The bag falls from Jinyoung’s grip and crashes to the ground, the sound of glass bottles and debris hitting the cobblestones a rude enough awakening for Jinyoung to finally look away, jumping slightly in his skin as he lifts a hand to his mouth, unable to look back up.
“Jinyoung, I—” He begins but he’s cut off by the door opening once more, an unfamiliar head poking through the doorway.
“Hey, are you—who’s this?” The man asks, his wide eyes fixed on Jaebum, puzzled. He takes in the sight before him; a silent Jinyoung, a curious stranger on his doorstep, and a slightly torn garbage bag lying in the way of their house.
Jinyoung keeps his eyes fixated on the ground, speechless, and Jaebum feels like there’s nothing he can really do but introduce himself.
“I’m Jaebum.” He says quietly, voice trembling ever so slightly, and he hopes it’s imperceptible to Jinyoung’s ears.
The man’s face shifts to shock for a brief moment before it crumples, his lips curved into a frown and his eyes sour.
“I think you should leave.” He says, stepping forward protectively to place a large hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder, squeezing it with an ounce of comfort that strikes a chord of guilt within Jaebum.
“Look, I know it’s really out of the blue but, please, I’m not trying—” Jaebum starts, but he’s cut off once more.
“I said, I think you should leave.” He repeats, voice verging on harsh now, and a trickle of regret runs down Jaebum’s spine, causing his body to shudder under the evening sky.
“Jackson, leave it.” Jinyoung finally speaks up, his voice slightly squeaky, and the man, Jackson, seems to calm a little, his bark losing some of its bite. Jinyoung’s eyes are back on him now and Jaebum misses the sweet reprieve of eye-contactless encounters, barely mustering up the courage to look him directly in the face.
“Jaebum, can we talk? Alone?” He asks, voice pressed between teeth and stern, not the same adoring voice he remembers from all those years ago. He nods, unable to speak properly, and Jackson narrows his eyes.
“I’ll be in the kitchen. If you need me, just call.” Is all he says before disappearing back into the house, leaving them to be swallowed up by the silence surrounding them. Jaebum’s almost envious of the silence; able to flee the moment Jinyoung parts his pretty, pink lips to speak.
“It’s cold, follow me.” He says before turning on his heel and marching back into the house, Jaebum lagging a moment behind.
He looks around the place as he follows Jinyoung up the stairs, the sound of Jackson whistling anxiously in the kitchen loud enough to fill the entire ground floor. It’s not a huge place by any means but it’s nice, there are pictures of Jinyoung and Jackson on the walls, in front of the Eiffel Tower and the London Eye, all the places Jaebum said he’d take Jinyoung when they were kids.
There’s a distinct but faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon in the air too, which doesn’t surprise Jaebum all that much (trust Jinyoung to pick the most basic scents to flood his home with) and the minimalist decor reminds Jaebum of Jinyoung’s old bedroom, all the nights spent sprawled out on the floor, looking up for dreams in the ceiling. It’s one hell of a guilty punch to the stomach.
Jinyoung ushers him into what appears to be a bedroom, and shuts the door behind him just as his hands fly up to his hair.
“What are you doing here?” He hisses, voice low like he doesn’t want to be heard, his long and nimble fingers framing his face with distress.
“I…” Jaebum stutters, but the words struggle to come out. Why is he here? To apologise? Because he’s a selfish fuck and he needs to know Jinyoung forgives him? Because he misses his best friend?
“Jaebum, I swear—”
“I missed you.” He replies, swallowing the truth like a bundle of razor blades and slicing up his insides as he chokes on every syllable.
Jinyoung freezes and the look on his face is a hybrid of familiarity, longing, nostalgia, and the pain, the anger, the resentment that’s built up over the years.
“You missed me.” He repeats like he doesn’t believe him. It’s got a snarky edge to it, a venomous lilt that doesn’t escape Jaebum’s attention, stinging like a pinprick on the back of a thumb. “You missed me?”
He nods, chest in pain, heart in pain, and he opens his mouth to speak again but the sound of Jinyoung kicking the foot of his bed ruptures his train of thought, the words tumbling away from his mouth as he watches the boy he used to call his best friend hiss in mild hurt.
“Honestly? Fuck you, Jaebum.” Jinyoung spits as he jabs his finger at Jaebum’s face, making sure Jaebum knows exactly where to feel the shittiest.
“I said I was going to leave, I spoke about it all the time, why did it surprise you when I actually did it?” Jaebum spits back, not wanting to raise his voice for fear of this turning into something uglier than it already is.
Jinyoung lets out a gut-wrenching laugh that’s so bitter, Jaebum feels a swell of nausea in the pit of his stomach.
“God, you’re such a fucking asshole!” He croaks, turning away from Jaebum for a moment of peace, a moment to gather his sanity. “I’m not mad at you for leaving. Is that what you really thought? I would angry because you left? Did you know me at all?”
Jinyoung’s back looks so small from where Jaebum’s standing, not narrow, just...fragile. Delicate. Small. And now it looks sad, curved with desperation and a sprinkle of misery and Jaebum feels responsible for it all, for bringing it back.
He takes a breath and asks, “Then, why are you mad?”
He hears a shaky exhale where Jinyoung’s faced away from him, a hand now rubbing his neck where Jaebum used to grab it.
“Because you didn’t say anything. I always knew you’d leave, hell I thought I’d come with you, but I always believed that even if you went off by yourself, you’d keep in touch, you know? A phone number, an email address, a postcode, fucking anything. Fucking.. something. I didn’t hear from you for 7 years, Jaebum.”
Jaebum swallows and he can feel that dull ache in the back of his head that means he’s pushing back tears, gnawing on the inside of his mouth to stop his voice quivering. The guilt claws at his insides and fills him so completely it’s hard to breathe. It’s almost like his mind is floating away from his body, on a different plane of existence, and his bones are cold.
“I know. I fucked up.” Are the first words out of his mouth, like a stream of consciousness he can’t control. He frantically tries to rein it in, put a leash on his thoughts and actions and take this seriously but his brain is on shutdown mode and all he can think about is Jinyoung in pain and Jinyoung hurting.
“You can say that again—”
“I fucked up,” Jaebum cuts him off, hand fidgeting with his sleeve. “Just—fuck just give me a second. I hurt you, I didn’t think about how you’d feel without me. I’m not here to guilt trip you or to make you forgive me because I don’t deserve an ounce of your forgiveness. I can’t even explain myself, I don’t know why I did that to you. I—I meant to keep in touch, I swear I did, but you were so... here and I was so far away from all of this. I just wanted to keep running, even if it meant cutting all ties.
And I hurt you because of it and I’m so sorry. I can’t forgive myself for it, I can’t even explain myself. It’s like I wasn’t me….like I was trying to separate myself from who I am. I was trying to leave me behind and I ended up leaving you behind too. I meant to call or send you a letter or something, I swear I did, but it always felt too soon.”
Jaebum can’t stop the tears now as they stream down his cheeks, snot bubbling in his nose as his words fall to ruins. He’s an ugly mess and the burning shame and embarrassment of being seen like this is almost enough to make him leave, but he can’t do that again. Not when hurting Jinyoung is ten times more painful than hurting himself.
Jinyoung is watching him now, hands by his sides, eyes watery and red rimmed.
“And then one time I got drunk... and I found an old telephone box on the street, I don’t remember where I was, Berlin or something. And I called your number because I still remembered it, even when I was out of my fucking mind.”
He doesn’t know when he started gripping his wrist so hard it would leave bruises, but he feels the pain like background music as he tries to get it out before Jinyoung can stop him.
“You didn’t pick up. It said the number was no longer in service, and I got really mad and punched the keypad, shattered my knuckle. I’d left it too late and there was nothing I could do about it.”
He doesn’t look up at Jinyoung because he can’t, the memories feel too raw and his heart is beating in his chest like it’s about to explode and kill him. He doesn’t have the right to be this upset when Jinyoung’s the one who needed him, and he’s the one that ran away.
“Jaebum.”
He still doesn’t look up, instead pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, harder and harder because he doesn’t know how to handle this.
“Jaebum, look at me.”
He shakes his head, stubborn even now.
He half expects to hear Jinyoung’s voice again, shouting at him to get out of his house, or sternly telling him to leave, but instead he feels a hand on his shoulder and another in his hair, stroking it backwards and out of his face.
“Jaebum, please look at me.”
It’s barely a whisper but Jaebum’s hands slowly retreat, his eyes inching upwards to look at Jinyoung. Jinyoung offers him a weak smile and pets his hair but there’s still anger in his features and resentment in his fingers.
“I need you to tell me that you don’t forgive me, so I can leave.” Jaebum breathes, his eyes wet and nose runny. He knows he looks a mess and he feels bad that it’s always Jinyoung there to clean him up. He’s always been a selfish bastard.
Jinyoung’s hand stops where it’s buried in his hair and falls to his cheek, cupping his face with a tenderness Jaebum doesn’t deserve.
“I...I still care about you, despite everything. I’m still angry and I’m going to need time before I let you back into my life again but...I can’t not forgive you. You don’t really deserve my forgiveness but I don’t want you to leave me again. I’ve missed you so fucking much, you stupid dumbass.” Jinyoung’s voice cracks towards the end of his sentence and Jaebum can’t help it when he pulls him in for a hug, a bone crushingly tight hug that fills him with love and fear and so much potent emotion that it almost spills out and bursts at the seams.
They hug for a few minutes, Jaebum so warm in Jinyoung’s embrace that he prays it never ends, but it does and soon enough he can feel Jinyoung pulling away.
“Where are you staying?” He asks softly, eyes still watery.
“At a motel, a few blocks away.”
Jinyoung nods. He glances up at Jaebum’s face, eyes searching for something through all the tear stains and crimson skin. There’s a stilted breath between them and suddenly Jaebum feels his back hit the wall by the doorframe, Jinyoung inches away from his face.
“Th-this doesn’t mean anything,” Jinyoung stutters, their noses brushing idly as his eyes flicker to Jaebum’s lips so quickly he’s unsure it really happened. “And I don’t...feel that way about you anymore, but...I need you. And I need this one time before—before,”
“Before you leave me.” Jaebum finishes, their foreheads practically touching as he murmurs the words that leave such a rancid taste on his tongue. He missed his chance.
Jinyoung tilts his head forwards slightly, just enough for their lips to graze each other, the faintest sensation of skin on skin. Jaebum leans into it until Jinyoung can really feel the pressure on his lips and he kisses back, lets his hand trail up into Jaebum’s hair for something to clutch as their mouths move together the way they should’ve all those years ago.
It gets a little more frantic, the desperation seeping in between the tongues of rekindled best friends, and Jaebum lets a tiny moan loose as Jinyoung tugs on his hair and nibbles at his lip. It all comes to an abrupt halt, however, when Jinyoung pulls away, tears running down his cheeks. Jaebum hadn’t even noticed him crying but he realises, with alarming delay, that he feels the wetness on his cheeks too, and wants nothing more than to hug Jinyoung and console him. But it’s not the right time for that so he keeps his mouth shut and pats down any stray hairs.
“Jackson’s waiting for me downstairs,” Jinyoung says with an awkward cough, hands sweeping tears off his cheeks and his hairs into place. “I said I’d watch some Pokemon with him.”
Jaebum nods and pretends it doesn’t feel like he’s being stabbed with six knives at once.
“He’s a really great guy, and I love him. I think I want to marry him.” He continues and Jaebum gives him a dejected smile that he hopes doesn’t come across as too melancholy.
“I’m happy for you, then.” He lies. Jinyoung doesn’t seem entirely convinced by his own words but he nods too, and reaches out to straighten Jaebum’s jacket.
“You should go.” He decides finally, as he takes a step back and gestures to the door. Jaebum watches him for a second as the words sink in before he moves to twist the handle. Jinyoung follows him down the stairs and to the front door where they say their goodbyes.
“It was kind of... nice seeing you, again.” Jinyoung says as Jaebum steps onto the cobblestone path, his head hung ever so slightly. He glances back at Jinyoung.
“Same here. I suppose I’ll see you around.”
The tension in the air is palpable and Jaebum just wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Yeah, we can meet up for coffee or something, I’m sure.” Jinyoung replies, chewing on his lip the way he does when he’s upset.
Jaebum opens his mouth to speak but there’s nothing more to say so he turns on his heel and walks down the path, refusing to look back. He missed his chance.
He doesn’t miss the way the front door slams shut behind him.