Chanyeol is twenty four when he receives his assigned partner.

He's still studying to become a scientist, he still lives with Kyungsoo, and he still sneaks some free time in his busy schedule to visit Jongdae, who has become a vocal instructor.

The letter comes one unassuming spring day, a plain white envelope that sits on their kitchen table. Chanyeol gives it a brief, curious look as he walks to the kitchen, because really, who sends letter these days? He's pretty much forgotten about it by the time he gets out some cereal for breakfast, dismissing the envelope as some remote cousin of Kyungsoo's inviting him over for spring break.

Kyungsoo looks up from his newspaper as Chanyeol sits down at the dining room table. They've moved out into a larger apartment off the institution's campus, but it's still a small place. "The letter on the table is for you."

"For me?" Chanyeol repeats, picking it up with one hand while the other spoons cereal into his mouth.

"Yeah. I already opened mine."

Something about Kyungsoo's tone makes Chanyeol pause as he runs a thumbnail over the official looking seal on the back of the envelope. Kyungsoo rarely sounds so flippant, and it makes Chanyeol's heart pound a little faster as he opens the envelope.

He recognizes the paper immediately. It's organized in the same style as Jongdae's and Baekhyun's papers had been. As he skims the sentences on the paper, the spoon in his hand falls out of his hand with a clatter when he sees the name in the upper right hand corner. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears when he speaks. "Kyungsoo?"

Suddenly, Kyungsoo is there next to him, standing close enough to look into Chanyeol's eyes. "I'm sorry, Chanyeol."

Chanyeol folds the paper messily and pushes it away. "No, I'm sorry." He tries to calm his breathing, tries to convince himself that this is a dream. Only it can't be a dream, since he would never imagine this.

Over the years, he's forgotten about his assignment. He's gotten used to pretending that he's never going to get one, but evidently, he's not that lucky.

If it had been someone he's never met before, he could easily put off ever meeting that person. But the person the government chose--

Do Kyungsoo. Even if Chanyeol closes his eyes, he can see that name written in black ink on the paper. Age twenty-four. Profession...

"I understand," Kyungsoo says, his voice soft and familiar in Chanyeol's ears. Usually, it's a comfort, but right now, Chanyeol is torn between everything in this world, and he just wants to escape.

"I'm going to call Jongdae," he says, grabbing his phone and jacket as he slips into his shoes. "Don't wait for me," he adds before he steps out of the door. He doesn't wait to see Kyungsoo's expression before slamming it closed.

Except he doesn't go to see Jongdae right away. Instead, he wanders around the city, walking past stores and people with a set goal. Chanyeol had been sure of his goal once, but he isn't sure anymore. He must wander for hours in his indecision, narrowly avoiding collisions with other people and bicycles at times. He ends up in the stairwell below his apartment before he pulls out his phone and calls Jongdae.

Jongdae answers him, voice bright and cheerful, and Chanyeol tries to smile so that his voice will sound happier through the phone. "Hey, Jongdae. Can you come over?"

There's a soft noise in the background before Jongdae replies, "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Maybe Jongdae had heard something off about Chanyeol's voice, since he's there in ten. The smile on his face fades when he sees Chanyeol, and Chanyeol doesn't bother hiding his helpless expression as he looks up at Jongdae.

Jongdae sits down next to Chanyeol on the bottom step and gives him a hug. Chanyeol leans into it and closes his eyes, trying to ignore how selfish he's being. Even if this is just self deception, he wants to live in this world a little longer.

As much as he wants to remain in the hug forever, eventually, he pulls away. "I got my assignment today."

He's sitting close enough to Jongdae that he can hear the other's sharp intake of breath, a last cry before the bullet steals away a man's life. "Chanyeol..."

"It's Kyungsoo," Chanyeol says, closing his hands around his knees. His knees are trembling, and he's never felt this nervous before, not even when he was standing before a whole board of old men and giving his presentation about his latest project, one that had been crucial to his career. Because this isn't just about his career. This is about the rest of his life and the three people he care about the most.

Jongdae doesn't say anything this time, but he looks up at Chanyeol with warm brown eyes, the same eyes that have looked at Chanyeol all these years with fondness and adoration.

"I think... I think we should stop dating." Chanyeol takes a deep breath, wringing his hands together for something to do. Jongdae is too quiet, and he can feel the calmness that's bound to explode. "It's not fair to us, and it's not fair to Kyungsoo or Baekhyun if we keep it up. We should just do what the government wants and not risk our lives trying to go against the law." There's a lot more to the speech that Chanyeol had prepared, but Jongdae interrupts him.

"Do you even care?" His voice is soft, but it cuts deeper than any words Chanyeol's ever heard. "I'm not something to be taken for granted, you know. I've been the one chasing you all this time, the one putting everything at risk just to be with you, but the moment something difficult in your life comes up, your first thought is to give up what we have just so you'll be safe." His laugh is harsh, bitter, and it echoes in the stairwell. "Okay, let's break up. I deserve better than you anyway."

Chanyeol wants to take back his decision, if only because he can't afford to lose Jongdae. He doesn't want to, but at the same time, he doesn't know what else to do. "Jongdae, please."

Jongdae stands, taking a step backwards when Chanyeol tries to reach out to him. "That's it, right?" Everything they had planned for. The life they thought they would live. All the dreaming and the stolen minutes together, all for nothing in the end.

"Jongdae, I love you." Chanyeol speaks the words he's never said aloud before, the words he means the most, even now, and it's only then that he realizes that they aren't enough. They never were enough.

Jongdae doesn't reply. He turns away from Chanyeol and walks out of the building, and the door slams shut behind him. Chanyeol wants to run after him, wants to profess his love so that the whole world can hear it, wants to run away with Jongdae by his side, but in the end, he makes his way up the stairs back to his own apartment.

Kyungsoo is still sitting there, reading his textbook now, and probably doing homework that Chanyeol should also be doing right now. "Chanyeol," he begins, but Chanyeol shakes his head as he takes off his shoes.

"Stop." His voice comes out weak. The talk with Jongdae must have taken a lot out of him.

"You broke up with Jongdae, didn't you?" Kyungsoo pushes on, and Chanyeol really, really wishes Kyungsoo didn't have his mind reading ability. "You shouldn't have."

Chanyeol walks over to him, irrational anger clouding his mind. "I did it because it was the right thing to do! You think I wanted to do it? Do you think I had a choice?"

His words are harsh, even though he knows that he shouldn't place the blame on Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo hadn't asked to be paired up with Chanyeol, after all. He doesn't need to be able to read minds to see the hurt clearly etched on Kyungsoo's face, but he's hurting right now and he wants someone to hurt with him. It's stupid, it's childish, but Chanyeol doesn't know what else to do.

Chanyeol sits in a chair facing Kyungsoo. "It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?" He just wants reassurance now. In his mind, it had worked perfectly; in his mind, it had been easy to put his selfishness aside. After all, no matter how happy he was with Jongdae, he can't sacrifice his friends' happiness like that. They deserve better. Even Jongdae deserves better.

"You didn't have to do it," Kyungsoo says, his voice soothing and patronizing. "I would have understood."

"It's my decision! I had a choice and I chose you." Chanyeol bites his lip to prevent any more emotional outburst. He feels like he's seconds away from crying and screaming, and it's not a nice feeling. Is this how it feels to have the world slip from between his fingers?

Kyungsoo is quiet for a long time, giving Chanyeol the chance to sort his emotions out, before he reaches across the table to take Chanyeol's hand in his own. "I'm glad you did."



It had been Baekhyun's idea, really. Despite his brash claims and wild ideas, he was actually incredibly cheesy at heart, and he had been the one to bring it up.

"No matter what, we'll always be friends, right?" he had asked, back when they were kids. "Even when we're old and bald, we'll still have each other, right?"

They had made a promise then, smiling brightly as they put their hands together to stamp the promise.

They were young then, and they didn't know how difficult it would be to keep such a simple promise.

Chanyeol sighs as he turns the phone over in his hands. He rarely even talks to Baekhyun these days. Baekhyun texts him sometimes, but it was unlike before, when he would complain about the most trivial things in his life and Chanyeol would complain right back while his professor was lecturing or when he was supposed to be doing his homework. Now, they only talk a few times a day, a few sentences typed between breaks in Baekhyun's shows and vocal lessons.

And Chanyeol hasn't talked to Jongdae since the day he received his assigned partner. Since the day he broke up with Jongdae. He really doesn't have an excuse for that. After all, they live in the same city and practically have each other's schedules memorized. Chanyeol knows that he should be the one to step forward and salvage their friendship, even if it still hurts admitting that's all they can have now. He's known Jongdae for all these years, and he really doesn't want to lose him.

But knowing for Jongdae for so long also means that Chanyeol knows that the other probably wants space right now.

Chanyeol sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he turns his phone on and off again.

"You should call him," Kyungsoo says, walking into Chanyeol's room and sitting on the bed next to his desk.

Chanyeol pockets his phone. "I can't. Not when he probably hates me right now."

"Why would you make a decision if you aren't happy about it?" Kyungsoo is looking down at Chanyeol's bed, playing with the blanket under his fingers.

Chanyeol gets up and sits down next to Kyungsoo, untangling his fingers from the blankets and linking them together. "I am happy about it. I have you."

Kyungsoo frowns at him. "Don't say that. You love Jongdae."

He tries to pull his hand away from Chanyeol's grasp, but Chanyeol places his other hand on top of Kyungsoo's. "But I care for you too."

"Why would you stay with someone you don't love for the rest of your life?"

Chanyeol doesn't answer, and Kyungsoo pulls his hand away, leaving the room. 



Baekhyun becomes famous with his first single, a song about breakups and heartbreak. It's surprisingly fitting, considering the situation his best friends are going through. Chanyeol smiles at the irony when he first hears Baekhyun's song, and he wonders if Baekhyun knows about what had happened between him and Jongdae.

The best way to get over heartbreak, Baekhyun sings, is to forget about the relationship and make new memories. Humans are blessed to not have the same flawless memorization skills as robots, so even if some memories may be dear today, they may lose importance tomorrow.

It’s not always easy, though. There are times when Chanyeol misses Baekhyun’s and Jongdae’s absence keenly. After all, they’ve grown up together, and they’ve always tried to meet up as often as possible.

But there’s Kyungsoo, at least. And their goldfish, which is actually Chanyeol’s responsibility. Kyungsoo pretends that the goldfish is a nuisance, and constantly bothers Chanyeol about feeding the goldfish and changing the water. Chanyeol has walked in on Kyungsoo talking to the goldfish once, though, so he knows that Kyungsoo doesn’t really mind the goldfish, no matter how many times he’s threatened to eat it.

They’re still roommates. Even though they’re technically each other’s partners for life, they haven’t actually talked about it. Kyungsoo doesn’t ask, and if he’s ever seen Chanyeol thinking about the subject, he’s never brought it up. Chanyeol is grateful for it. He’s fine with being just friends right now.

He can’t think of a reason to not want to eventually get married to Kyungsoo one day. After all, they’ve lived together long enough that he thinks he knows Kyungsoo pretty well. They still have some differences and disagreements, but for the most part, they get along.

It’s not like Chanyeol even thinks about Jongdae that much anymore. It’s been nearly a year since their breakup, and although they haven’t met up since then to actually talk it out, he thinks that he’s moved on from then. Sometimes, at night, he’ll stay awake thinking, but he doesn’t regret his decision. Sometimes, he’ll think of Jongdae’s bright smiles and his contagious laughter, the gleam of life in his eyes that no one else can match. But then he’ll see Kyungsoo’s small, gentle smile, and there’s a faint feeling of warmth in his chest that he doesn’t feel around just anyone.

“You’re home already?” Kyungsoo asks, as he walks into the apartment. He drops his stuff off in a chair by the door and takes off his shoes.

Chanyeol quickly stands from where he’d been squatting, observing the goldfish. He tries to not think about the thoughts he’d been having the past few minutes, but of course, by trying to not think about it, he ends up thinking about it. “Welcome home.”

The smile on Kyungsoo’s face fades briefly, and Chanyeol knows that he’s been caught. He opens his mouth to apologize, but then Kyungsoo is stepping forward.

He hugs Chanyeol tightly, and Chanyeol closes his eyes as he hugs him back. Kyungsoo is always so warm, and today is no exception. There’s something comforting about Kyungsoo’s smell and his steady breathing, the softness of his hair against Chanyeol’s cheek.

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo says, his voice partially muffled into Chanyeol’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Chanyeol steps away from Kyungsoo slowly, letting his hand slide down Kyungsoo’s arm.

“I said it’s okay.” Kyungsoo hits the side of Chanyeol’s head lightly, but he’s smiling, his eyes curving with mirth.

Chanyeol smiles in return, following Kyungsoo as he starts walking to the kitchen. “What are we eating today?”

Kyungsoo picks up a spoon and waves it in the air threateningly. “Get out of the kitchen. Don’t try stealing any food.” He reaches for one of the bowls in the upper cabinets, and Chanyeol leans past him to get it for him. Kyungsoo hits Chanyeol on the arm with the spoon before taking the bowl. “Leave. I bet you didn’t even feed the goldfish. You just stare at the fish all day without feeding it.”

“You’re going to make the fish fat,” Chanyeol protests, but he leaves.

It’s not like they intentionally dance around the subject. Whenever Chanyeol tries to bring it up, the words get lost the moment Kyungsoo looks into his eyes. Maybe they don’t need to talk about it. There’s a kind of unspoken understanding between them. Even if Chanyeol can’t read Kyungsoo’s thoughts, he’s known him well enough to decipher his facial expressions. Besides, they have a lot of time. They’re still young, and there’s no need to rush things.

It’s okay because Chanyeol knows that, no matter what happens, Kyungsoo will be there with him. 



The cold blast of air conditioning is a welcome difference compared to the crowd that he’d been stuck in an hour ago. There’s a hum of conversation in the restaurant, but it’s much quieter than the screams that nearly drowned out the music during the concert. To be fair, though, Chanyeol had contributed to the screaming. It’s a kind of inevitable response, being dragged into the excitement, cheering on the very boy he’d teased a few years ago for singing in the shower.

“Safe!” Baekhyun lets out a sigh as he slides into the booth across from Chanyeol. He takes off his cap, fixing stray strands of his hair and looking around discreetly. His sunglasses are dangling from a string around his neck, and there are still patches of makeup on his face that he’d forgotten to wipe off. He’s changed from his too tight stage clothes, at least, into a pair of old jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. It’s a completely different image from his usual idol look, but Chanyeol’s more familiar with this one.

Chanyeol laughs as Baekhyun steals his glass of water and gulps it down. “That bad?”

“There were fans after my car right after the concert. We had to drive in circles around the block to throw them off.” Baekhyun wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shakes his head, sighing dramatically. “It’s not fun.”

Chanyeol nudges Baekhyun’s foot lightly. “You did well today.”

“I always do well,” Baekhyun retorts, but the small smile on his face gives him away. “I can’t believe that was the first concert you went to.”

“Probably the last one, too,” Chanyeol says, taking his glass away from Baekhyun and pouring more water into it. He’d gone to many of Baekhyun’s shows when they were in high school, but actual concerts aren’t really his thing. It’s too impersonal and loud, too many screams from fans more focused on Baekhyun’s face than his voice.

“You just said it was good! I nailed the high note in the end.”

Baekhyun had, but Chanyeol doesn’t acknowledge his statement. There are only so many times that he’s willing to boost his friend’s ego.

“How did you get here before I did?” Jongdae asks, making both of them start slightly when he creeps up on them unnoticed.

Baekhyun is the first one to react, and he smiles brightly as he scoots over to make room. “Sit down.”

“Thanks.” Jongdae takes his jacket off and stretches his arms. He gives Baekhyun a small smile, but he doesn’t acknowledge Chanyeol. “It’s not fair,” he says, speaking to Baekhyun. “I ran all the way to the subway from your concert, and I missed the train by a few seconds. I had to wait another fifteen minutes.”

Baekhyun laughs softly, laying a hand over Jongdae’s. “There are advantages of being a celebrity.”

The conversation is slightly awkward, and both Chanyeol and Jongdae avoid talking directly to each other. Baekhyun bridges the gaps in the conversation skillfully, though. He doesn’t mention it, laughing loud enough at the wrong times and attracting stares from those sitting around them. It’s probably thanks to the dim lighting that no one recognizes Baekhyun.

After a few minutes, Baekhyun stands. “I’m going to the restroom,” he says, grabbing his cap and putting it backwards on his head. “I’ll be back.”

Chanyeol doesn’t miss the meaningful look Baekhyun gives Jongdae.

A painfully awkward silence settles on the table, the kind that shouldn’t be there because they’ve been friends for so long. But they also haven’t talked in a long time, and Chanyeol is both grateful and angry that Baekhyun forced this opportunity on both of them.

“How have you been?” Chanyeol asks, breaking the silence. His throat feels slightly hoarse, like he hasn’t spoken in a long time, and his fingers are nervously tapping on the surface of his knee.

Jongdae looks up, finally meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. “I’ve been good,” he says.

“That’s good.” There are many things that Chanyeol wants to say. He’s spent the past months rehearsing a speech to say, and he has pages filled with little bullet points of things he wants to speak to Jongdae about. But now that Jongdae is sitting across from him, suddenly, none of those topics seem adequate. Instead, Chanyeol settles for smiling at Jongdae, and after a moment, Jongdae smiles back.

It’s just a smile, but even Chanyeol is surprised by the amount of relief he feels by the little gesture. It’s a sign that maybe, given more time, they could rebuild their friendship again. Maybe it won’t be as strong as it once was, but at the very least, it will be something. Anything would be better than avoiding each other. Really, it would be a shame if all those years of friendship went down the drain. Maybe in a few years, when they’re ready to face the past again, they’ll be able to talk about it. It won’t be easy, but it’s something.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says softly, walking up to the table slowly.

Both Chanyeol and Jongdae look up as he approaches. Chanyeol meets Kyungsoo’s eyes, and Kyungsoo takes a seat beside him.

“I gave the waiter our order already.” Kyungsoo gives Jongdae a small nod. “Hey, Jongdae.”

“Hi,” Jongdae says, and he gives a small nod in response.

Kyungsoo begins to make small talk with Jongdae, but there’s no doubt in Chanyeol’s mind that Kyungsoo knows what he had thinking about before he’d come over to the table. He’d probably been able to gauge the situation just by looking into their eyes. It’s somewhat intimidating sometimes, but Chanyeol has learned to read Kyungsoo’s thoughts as well. His ability isn’t nearly as good as Kyungsoo’s, and it’s only developed by spending so much time with Kyungsoo. But he can tell, by the way Kyungsoo’s smiling brightly and sitting, his posture relaxed, that he doesn’t mind.

Baekhyun comes back to the table a few minutes later, and the four of them are laughing and talking again, the way they used to many years ago. It might be a long time before they see each other again, but right now, they’re together, and that’s good enough.

Kyungsoo takes Chanyeol’s hand under the table, squeezing it lightly. Chanyeol smiles as he listens halfheartedly to the story that Baekhyun is telling. He doesn’t look over at Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything.

Sometimes, there’s no need for words.