Chapter Text
They're walking through familiar streets, side by side, barely any space between them and a world apart.
Pi-o feels like his voice is stuck in his throat, like he can't talk, like there's something sharp in his mouth, digging painfully in his tongue, keeping him forcefully quiet.
Jeong-yo walks next to him, slow, unhurried. He looks around every now and then, looking at the houses they pass, the stores, the allies; he looks at everything like it's his first time seeing any of it.
It's quiet between them, tense in a way Pi-o never flet comfortable being around Jeong-yo. He's always been tense around everyone else, around everyone else in his life, but Jeong-yo is different.
Jeong-yo makes him feel comfortable just by standing next to him.
He's not doing that now, Pi-o knows it's more on himself than on Jeong-yo.
He's not sure why Jeong-yo agreed to walk around old neighborhoods with him, why he agreed so easily, but he doesn't want to push his luck by asking.
Pi-o will take this tense moment with Jeong-yo next to him over any comfortable moment he could have with anyone else.
He should say something. He should ask Jeong-yo something.
Will it stop feeling so tense if he does?
There's a shout of Jeong-yo's name before he can make up his mind, coming from behind them. It sounds angry.
It reminds Pi-o of the day he saw people dragging Jeong-yo away to a uncrowded ally and beating him up.
He grabs Jeong-yo's wrist and pulls him away, feet speeding up before he can think the action through.
Jeong-yo makes a sound of surprise, almost tripping. Pi-o keeps him on his feet, and they run.
He's not sure if anyone is actually following them, or if he's being haunted by his ghosts once more.
It doesn't matter.
He holds onto Jeong-yo and runs. Jeong-yo goes with him.
They're both breathless by the time they get to Pi-o's house and hurry inside, shutting the door behind them.
Pi-o almost kneels, doubling over as he inhales deeply.
He feels like laughing.
He feels like grabbing Jeong-yo and hugging him close and never letting him leave his house, his life, his arms, ever again.
"You've been back here for two days and you're already being hunted down by loan sharks again?" He snaps half-heartedly at Jeong-yo, feeling annoyed and amused at the same time.
"Ya! No one asked you to act like a hero that time!" Jeong-yo snaps back, sounding as breathless as Pi-o had.
He's grabbing onto his knees too, doubling over as he takes deep breathes.
Pi-o huffs a quiet laugh, his shoulders shaking with it.
"I had to. How else would I make you feel bad for punching me in the face?"
"Ya! You deserved that punch, you asshole! You called me a-" he stops suddenly, cutting himself off in the middle of his angry outburst.
Pi-o looks at him through his bangs, finding Jeong-yo's eyes on him already.
Jeong-yo stands up slowly, his eyes never leaving Pi-o's face as he does.
"Wait, you knew I remembered you? Since when do you know..." he trails off as Pi-o also stands up straight to look at him.
His eyes search Pi-o's face for something, and Pi-o almost scoffs at the question.
"I never really believed you to begin with," he tells him, and Jeong-yo keeps watching him, his eyes unreadable. "You should be glad you didn't pursue a career as an actor. You're a terrible liar."
"No, I'm not." Jeong-yo shakes his head, his disagreement quiet and soft, like his eyes almost are. "You just know me well."
"Yeah," Pi-o agrees softly, almost smiling, "I just know you well."
They keep looking at each other, a silent moment full of unsaid words stretching between them.
Pi-o waits. He's not sure what he's waiting for, what exactly he's expecting here, but he waits.
And Jeong-yo snaps.
"Why did you say that?" He snaps suddenly, the words exploding out of him in what looks like furry and anger and...
Hurt.
It's the first time he's looked like the boy Pi-o used to know in high school, the boy with the raw, bleeding emotions that came out of him in waves, loud and unabashed and impossible to ignore.
The boy who punched Pi-o because Pi-o had cut him deeply, personally with his words.
Pi-o can't say anything in answer now, he doesn't know what to say. Is there anything he can say that would heal Jeong-yo's wounds? That would take back how much Pi-o has hurt him?
Jeong-yo doesn't take his silence well. His lips turn into a thin line with anger, something sharp and cutting standing in the shadow of his eyes.
Pi-o expects a punch to the face. He doesn't brace himself for it, he doesn't deserve that kindness. He wants the full weight of Jeong-yo's anger and pain.
The punch never comes.
Jeong-yo slams angry palms against his chest instead, pushing Pi-o back with the force of his hit and making him slam into the door. His eyes don't look sharp anymore.
He looks hurt. He looks like Pi-o was the one who just physically hurt him.
"Why did you say that?" He asks again, softer, quieter. Broken.
Pi-o doesn't know what he's asking him. He knows he has hurt Jeong-yo, he knows he has done and said a lot of hurtful things to him.
"I'm sorry," he says in answer, because there is no other answer worth saying to the boy and the man and the friend he hurt.
Jeong-yo slams his palms against his chest again.
"Why did you say we weren't that close?" He asks, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence.
Oh.
Pi-o realizes, suddenly and with painful clarity, exactly what Jeong-yo is talking about, exactly what he's asking.
The interview.
Pi-o just looks at him, feeling hot, uncomfortable shame crawling up his spine and spreading through his entire body, slow and painful, like the explosion of emotion in Jeong-yo's eyes had been a few moments ago.
"I'm sorry," he says again, his voice a soft whisper now.
He hopes he sounds sincere. He knows it doesn't matter anyway, it wouldn't make a difference anyway, what he said is impossible to take back, it's already out there, out of his poisonous mouth and in the world for everyone to hear.
For Jeong-yo to hear.
And he has heard it. He has heard it when it was meant for anybody else, for everybody else's ears and not his.
That horrible lie was never meant for Jeong-yo's ears.
Jeong-yo looks at him, and he pushes Pi-o back, pushes him against the door, caging him between his body and the metal thing behind him that is digging painfully in Pi-o's shoulders.
And then he pushes him some more, his hands finding their way to Pi-o's hips, grabbing and squeezing and pushing him back like he wants Pi-o to disappear in the door behind him.
His nails dig into Pi-o's skin, harsh, like the metal digging in his back, and his eyes bore into Pi-o's face with hot intensity.
"Did you mean it?" He asks, demands, his voice hard with something cold and biting.
"No," Pi-o quietly says, slowly shaking his head.
"Then why did you say it?" Jeong-yo snaps, hissing, his voice rising, his face moving closer to Pi-o's.
He glares at him, and there's hurt behind the anger in his eyes.
Because I'm a fool.
"I'm sorry, Jeong-yo-ah." He brings his hands up carefully, and cups Jeong-yo's cheeks, as gentle as he can manage, as gentle as the man in front of him deserves, as gentle as he has always deserved and Pi-o always failed to treat him. "I'm so sorry."
It's seems to break something in Jeong-yo.
Pi-o isn't sure if it's the sound of his name in Pi-o's voice or if it's the gentle touch on his face or if it's the repeat of an useless apology.
Tears fall down his face, his mouth quivering, his throat shaking. He closes his eyes then, hiding from the world maybe, or just Pi-o's eyes perhaps.
Pi-o wipes his tears away with his thumbs.
"Jeong-yo-ah," he calls softly, brushing careful fingers on his teary face, and Jeong-yo lets him, he lets him touch and he lets him say his name and he stays close and it is all that Pi-o has ever wanted.
He is all that Pi-o wants.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, a broken machine incapable of stopping the words spilling out of him.
Jeong-yo's hands, still on his hips, still pushing and pushing, squeeze into his skin again, his eyes still closed as he snaps quietly. "Stop saying that."
Pi-o obeys.
He's never been able to do anything but obey when it comes to the man in front of him.
"Okay," he says, nodding even though Jeong-yo can't see him. "Should I say something else then?"
Jeong-yo doesn't answer him.
Pi-o takes his silence as an answer.
He uses his hold on Jeong-yo's face to bring him close, still cupping those precious cheeks gently, and he brings their foreheads together, pressing against the dear warmth that is Jeong-yo's skin.
"Jeong-yo-ah," he whispers now, because they're too close for anything louder, because Jeong-yo will hear him anyway, because this is meant for his ears and his ears only.
This is meant for his heart only.
"I missed you, Choi Jeong-yo," he murmurs, and he's close enough that he can feel Jeong-yo's breathing hitch, that he can feel his sharp inhale, his warm breath coming out of shaky lips and warming Pi-o's entire being.
He never told him what he's about to say now, never let the words come out of his mouth even though he wanted to, so bad, more than anything, and he regretted it everyday for ten long, lonely, torturous years.
Without Jeong-yo even in a room full of people, Pi-o always feels lonely. Without him every moment seems to stretch and stretch, seconds feeling like minutes and minutes feeling like hours and ten years feeling like ten lifetimes and Pi-o cannot believe that he only knew this person for a few short months.
They were the best few months of Pi-o's life.
"I love you, Choi Jeong-yo."
Jeong-yo kisses him.
He's warm and soft against Pi-o, his hands coming up to hold his face in return, and Pi-o lets him move him however he wants, lets himself go wherever Jeong-yo guides him.
Jeong-yo tilts his head slightly to the side, and kisses him, deep and hard and hurried, as if someone is going to pull them apart any minute now.
His lips are soft, is the first thing Pi-o registers about the kiss, and his cheeks are still wet, and he kisses Pi-o like he wants to eat him.
Pi-o thinks it wouldn't be so bad for that to happen. He thinks there are worse ways to go than to be devoured by the man he's loved for a decade.
He lets go of Jeong-yo's face, the angle feeling too awkward to keep holding onto his cheeks, and he wraps his arms around his waist instead, holding him close and flushed against himself.
Jeong-yo melts into him, melting between Pi-o's arms and allowing himself to be held so close as if he is a part of Pi-o's body, an extension of him.
He feels alive in Pi-o's hold, burning hot, passionate, something that Pi-o wants to hold between his arms forever.
Pi-o can feel himself melting against Jeong-yo in return, slow, unlike the fast movements of the other. Jeong-yo holds him just as tight as Pi-o holds him.
They don't break apart, too tangled within each other for it to be called anything resembling breaking apart and allowing space between them.
Their lips hover over each other as they merely stop devouring each other to take deep, shaky breathes.
"Say it again," Jeong-yo whispers against his lips, his voice raw and real and rough and needy.
He doesn't have to specify what he means.
Pi-o kisses him this time, a soft, short press of his lips against Jeong-yo's. "I love you."
"Again."
Pi-o kisses him again. "I love you."
"Say it with my name."
Pi-o smiles against his mouth, a bright, soft thing that feels a lot like happiness flowing through his veins. "I love you, Jeong-yo-ah."