Title - lyrics from Everything has changed by Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran

Very lightly edited - will do later (sorry in advance for any mistakes, please forgive! >.<)

Hyukjae picked up the phone and stared blankly at the number he’s typed onto the screen – a number he’s typed out too many times to count. He could already imagine what the other person would say now. Definitely something he’s heard before. The digits run into each other as his eyes start to blur from lack of moisture, so he quickly blinked a few times, restoring his sight. He knows he has to get up and start getting ready for work soon, after all it was a weekday and there were students needing his help. However, he had a few more minutes before he began the half an hour rush. His thumb hovered over the ‘call’ button, wanting to hear the voice of the one person who will always be on his side, except he knows that she’ll say, undoubtedly “You need to come home, Hyukjae.”

And he would. Sure, he’ll protest and he’ll list reasons to stay, but then mentally he’d be finding reasons to leave and eventually they’ll win and he’ll be packing his bags and saying goodbye to Seoul. Leaving, again. Because this has happened, again. And of course, it happened to him.

Again.

It has crossed his mind that he’s being far too dramatic, but he thinks it has more to do with because he’s so sensitive to this now. He’s tired of being second; he’s tired of knowing he’s second. The fact seems to be painfully set in stone. Really, he thought he’d be used to it by now, and he thought he was. But this time it hurt – and more than it had before, because he had genuinely believed that Donghae was different. But once again the belief was shot down and he was stepped on all over because there was always someone better just around the corner, as if they had been waiting to snatch it all away.

Just because they could.

Or maybe it was him. Maybe Hyukjae needed to show a bit more fight. When someone showed their claws he should retaliate as such. So maybe everything that happened was really his own fault. It had to be if it happened over and over with friends and lovers and colleagues…

Hyukjae sat up and reached for his thick coat hanging beside the bed. He slipped his arms through the sleeves and buttoned it up fully, shielding himself from the cold. Yep, winter was definitely making its arrival. He actually rather liked winter – he liked snuggling up with a mug of hot cocoa in a cocoon of blankets and just watch the burning wood, or maybe gazing at the Christmas lights and the unevenly wrapped tinsel around the Christmas tree, random baubles hanging off the branches. He liked feeling the warmth inside – the warmth that just felt ten times better because it contrasted with his cold surroundings. Unfortunately, today was not one of those winter days. Today was a day his legs felt stiff and his nose was numb and his lips were dry and chapped. And he didn’t feel the inner warmth either. He just felt cold and bitter and a little – or actually, a lot – pissed at the world why, why, why did this happen to him?

Hyukjae walked briskly to the kitchen and filled up the kettle, eyeing the fixed up drawer handles and cupboards he had spent hours on, sacrificing his fingers to callouses, and scanned the living room wall he repainted himself. Then he looked at the furniture that, whilst nothing glamorous, was his comfort on his bad days and his worse.

As the kettle finished boiling and he poured some into his mug, which was filled quarter way up with some cheap instant coffee that left a bad aftertaste (not that he particularly enjoyed the taste of coffee anyway) but he needed the caffeine. Rubbing his forehead to try ease away a throbbing headache that was spreading from the temples, he rested his elbows on the counter and sighed. This apartment had looked abandoned and uncared for before he moved in, but slowly he had been able to make it better, chip by chip, fighting tooth and nail. This was his place… and he’d be damned if he let himself be chased away again. He left his family as soon as he finished university, then he left Busan because of Chungho and his friends, but no he was not going to leave Seoul because of Donghae, or Kibum, or anyone.

Unfortunately, loneliness had become his companion, and it didn’t seem to want to leave.

“Mr Lee, how do I do this move?” One of Hyukjae’s most enthusiastic students, Taemin, asked as he attempted the part of the choreography he was struggling with.

Hyukjae watched his technique, as well as his footing and body movements before he identified the source of the problem. “Try not to step forward too quickly and make sure you shift your weight onto your right foot – exactly! Good job!” he gave Taemin a huge grin and a pat on the back, watching his student’s face light up. This was definitely one of the things Hyukjae liked about teaching – he loved seeing his students accomplish things they didn’t think they could; he liked giving them new knowledge, new skills. He was aware it sounded awfully sappy, but it was cliché for a reason: it was simply the truth.

“No, Minho, you’re doing it all wrong,” Taemin exclaimed at one of his friends and quickly rushed to him to help (and tease) the other.

Hyukjae chuckled as he pushed back some sweaty strands, glad that the lesson was coming to an end as he desperately needed a break. His lack of sleep the past few days was undoubtedly catching up to him, and the second he got home he was going to crash onto his bed and just make up for lost hours. His thoughts of pillows and warm blankets were put on hold as he noticed some of his students crowding around a magazine which had a very familiar face on the cover.

Hyukjae gulped and his eyes darted away, only to zoom back onto the shiny cover and stare at those gorgeous, expressive eyes that had brought him so much comfort and warmth.

“He’s really handsome!”

“And adorable! How can someone be hot and cute at the same time?”

“He’s so sweet too!”

Don’t listen. Hyukjae turned around and stared at the clock, waiting for the bell to signal dismissal. He had made up his mind, adamantly too, that he would not let anything drive him away, but seeing Donghae’s face plastered all around Seoul made it extremely difficult. Hyukjae had no idea how he had not recognized Donghae the first time he saw him in the flesh, because the past week all he saw was him. Donghae wasn’t just on the magazines, but on TV showing interviews and match highlights, in shops for brands he endorsed, and there was also the possibility that he could very well be walking down the street and pass Hyukjae by. Those things unsettled him, and excited him at the same time. After what happened with Chungho, he didn’t want to be in the same city as him – there were too many memories and the emotions just overwhelmed him. It was almost the same now, except sometimes he was happy when he caught a glimpse of Donghae on a poster or advertisement. He’d pause and take a few seconds to look over the other’s features.

He gave his students a cheerful goodbye as the bell rang, letting a sigh of relief escape his tired body. Packing up his things, he zipped up his one shoulder bag and turned the lights off after making sure no items were left behind. He walked to the staff office afterwards, meeting Sungmin on the way into his desk.

“Oh hey, Hyuk,” Sungmin greeted with a wide smile. “It’s Seoul versus Suwon tonight!”

“Is it?” Hyukjae hid a wince at the thought of Donghae and his last game. He hadn’t played as well as usual, and Hyukjae felt himself slightly responsible for Donghae’s less than satisfactory performance; there was no doubt he would have been grilled by the manager and coach. Also, whilst extremely egotistic, he felt a bit pleased, or maybe hopeful, that he had affected Donghae to that extent – not to say that Hyukjae was proud of what he did to the other because he absolutely was not. He felt horrible for snapping at him when Donghae had been so tolerant of him; he had a patience few had ever extended to him. The thought that he may have been the one to blame for ruining their current relationship ate away at him.

“Yeah! But it’s an away game, so there’s more pressure on Seoul. I hope they play better this game. Last week the balance was all wrong, and Lee Donghae! Whoa… he was definitely having a bad day,” Sungmin shook his head at the memory before he picked up his keys and waved. “Well, see you!”

“Bye,” Hyukjae returned a smile before the martial arts teacher left. He sank into his seat as he sorted out some files before he could call it a day. His phone was lying just a hand’s stretch away and it was gnawing away at him. He picked it up to put in his desk drawer, continuing on with his work.

The two hadn’t contacted each other since the fight. The day after Donghae called and left a bunch of voice messages, all of them apologizing for his words. Hyukjae had ignored them at first, but eventually gave in and called him back, saying he needed some time and space and asking Donghae to respect that. Hyukjae knew that the words Donghae had said were most likely, or so he was praying, from the heat of the moment. The words had stung a lot, but he couldn’t disregard or the nice things Donghae had done for him before that.

“I think you need some time too, Donghae… to think about Kibum.”

“What’s Kibum got to do with this?”

“You said you still have feelings for him.”

“Hyukjae –”

“Just take some time and clear your head. Do it for me.”

Donghae’s admittance to his feelings for Kibum during their fight had been like salt on the wounds. He felt the full force of that hesitant confession. He didn’t want to be the ‘other one.’ He wouldn’t go through it again.

Hyukjae rubbed his forehead as he the morning news (yes, he had finally gotten a television. It was nothing fancy, and quite boringly low-tech, but it served its purpose), keeping it at a low volume until a report that seemed mildly interesting came on. The monotone voice of the reporter joined the other sounds of the city – car horns, tyres squealing on the road, chatter. He felt lonely by himself, feeling isolated in his, well, pretty small, apartment. He felt like he needed to speak to someone and just let out everything that was on his mind. Right now there was only one person he could think of. He picked up his phone after a few small sips of his bitter coffee, coupled with a twisted mouth of displeasure, and pressed the green button as the dial tone filled the silence. His eyes wandered up to the time to make sure he still had enough time to get ready.

“Hello?”

He placed the phone on speaker because bringing it to his ear seemed like too hard a task. “Sora…”

“Hyuk, do you know what time it is? Ugh – my God.”

Hyukjae felt a small smile and a pool of guilt forming because his sister was definitely not a morning person – she cursed the rising sun every day, whinging and whining. “I was wondering if you could come visit me for a few days.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Sora’s voice immediately became attentive. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hyukjae murmured and stared at his coffee for a few, blank seconds. He couldn't tell her the truth or she'd ask him to come home. “I just wanted to see you. I haven’t seen you in person for almost six months.”

There was some shuffling of what sounded like paper and a bit of muffled noise as air passed through the speaker. “Let me check my planner… Where did I put it again? – oh, I knocked my lamp off… Ugh I told him to stop leaving his laptop on overnight – he always does this!” Sora’s grumbles were heard through the phone and Hyukjae took this time to have another gulp of coffee, almost choking when he swallowed it too quickly. After a few violent shakes of his body, he managed to get some air into his lungs and calm his coughs down. “Got it! Hmm… maybe – wait, no, I have an appointment scheduled… here! I can probably get the weekend and one extra day off. Is that good for you?”

Hyukjae smiled and nodded, realising soon after that she couldn’t see him. “Yes, that’s great.”

“Okay, I’ll visit you then. Do you want me to bring mom and slash or dad?”

He was tempted to say yes, but also flat out refuse. He did miss his parents, but they were busy people and he always felt like he had turned out a bit of disappointment. They had never said that, and he did doubt they would think that, but he had started off with so many opportunities, only to come crashing down and having to pick himself up and start again from scratch, and with many scratches. “If you want to.”

Sora must have understood his real words by his tone. “I’ll come alone. My silly fiancé can cope without me for a few days… hopefully. I’ll see you soon then. Hyuk, are you sure you’re okay?”

Hyukjae took a deep breath, a denial on his lips before the screen changed and went to the sporting highlights, the first report just coincidentally on the recent Seoul versus Suwon soccer match. “I don’t know...” There was a flash of Donghae and Hyukjae noticed he had dyed his hair black with the ends blue, like he had said he wanted to.

“Hyuk? W-What is it? Talk to me!” Sora’s panicked voice rang into his ear.

“I… later, okay? I have to go,” Hyukjae mumbled and he heard a soft sigh from his sister.

“Fine, but be safe. I love you my baby brother,” Sora cooed in an effort to cheer him up, and it did succeed in getting a ghost of a smile.

“Love you too, see you,” Hyukjae replied, hanging up before the guilt got worse. His sister was one of the few people he could rely on. The only problem with that was because she was busy and she lived in another city. She had her own life and it couldn’t always accommodate Hyukjae. He was perfectly understanding of that, and most times it was simply nice to know she was there. He dropped his phone onto the couch and reached for the remote, turning the volume up.

“… into a tragic defeat by Suwon. By the end of the second half, the score remained three-nil. Renowned striker of Seoul FC, Lee Donghae, had another off game following his poor performance last week. Throughout the game the young player appeared to be looking off into the stands…” The screen changed and the camera was zooming in on Donghae, dressed in the away game jersey,white and red, his black hair pushed back from his face, most likely with sweat. True to the reporter’s words, he constantly kept glancing off to the crowd, always in the same direction. Hyukjae wondered what was on his mind, wanting to help Donghae like he helped him. “The manager Leeteuk has not made any comment on Lee’s recent performances, and Lee himself has refused to speak out. We’ll have to wait and see what his future in the club will be…”

Hyukjae’s hand with the remote fell limply onto his lap and his shoulders slouched slightly. Donghae must be troubled too. Here he was thinking it was all happening to him, but he had never given enough consideration to Donghae’s feelings – that is, assuming there was anything troubling Donghae at all; perhaps he really was just having two bad games. Hyukjae picked up his phone and scrolled to his contacts, teeth sinking into his lip hesitantly. Could he? Should he? Was it okay to just call him now? His thumb hovered over ‘dial’ and his heart began pounding in his chest. He’s probably busy… Leeteuk’s probably giving him a hard time with his performances… Sighing, he pushed his phone away and stood up, turning the television off. He’ll call him later.

He didn’t.

Or the day after.

Or the day after that. But he did go visit this day. Hyukjae had pondered over his choices countless times before he found himself walking to the house. He hadn’t wanted to choose this option, but after making the mistake (but not really) of going to the café, a pathetic attempt at maybe seeing the soccer player there, Ryeowook forced him to. “You have to go see him and sort this out. It’s been too long, Hyukjae.”

“I know but, I…”

“He doesn’t know what it’s like to be you,” Ryeowook said, his voice a little sterner than usual, “but you don’t know what it’s like to be him. He’s trying, Hyukjae, you have to too. Maybe you think there’s nothing about him to figure out, but no one is that simple. You can’t look someone in the eye and suddenly know everything about them. In books and movies, sure, but this is the real life. At some point we all have to wake up.”

Hyukjae glanced down, feeling ashamed. Is that the way he had come off? Had he not been putting enough effort?

Ryeowook’s eyes softened and he looked a bit guilty, like he had over-spoke. “I’m not saying this because I’m accusing you. I’m saying it because you’re both so different. You don’t share much about yourself, you’re quiet and shy and we have to grovel for every piece of you, but with Donghae, it’s all lain bare, he tells you the answer before you even ask the question. With you, we learn the innermost things first – your dreams, your fears, your story. With Donghae, it’s the simpler, everyday things – his favourite colour, where he went to school, what he does on the weekend. People like you we focus too much on the serious that we forget you are still like one of us, and that you have other qualities that are of equal importance. People like Donghae, we only ever seem to scratch the surface, and we miss who they are deep inside as a person.”

So here Hyukjae was, standing in front of Donghae’s door with Ryeowook’s wise words echoing in his ears. What he had said had been a bit difficult to hear, because he was used to being the victim. It was the role he was familiar with. He had spent days beating himself up over his failed relationships (not just romantic ones), but this time he felt different. He didn’t know how to describe it. Before, he had been prepared to forgive others because he felt he needed to, or else he’d be alone and they’d leave and it would be his fault. But this time, he had already forgiven Donghae, and he wanted to, because he didn’t want Donghae to leave, because it would be his fault and he’d easily accept it as so.

Hyukjae raised a fist, shaking an inch or so from the door. Just one little bit of force and the sound would alert Donghae and he’d be here and they could talk and everything would be okay. He gulped as his feet shifted.

He was scared.

Not because the thought of Donghae scared him, but because he didn’t know what to apologize for. His insecurities? His shortcomings? He was scared that this is who he was. He was scared that it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough then, and it wasn’t enough now, and maybe it never would be.

“Hyukjae?”

Hyukjae turned around, for a second thinking that it would be the orange haired – no – black and blue-haired, but he should have guessed from the voice that it wasn’t. It was Kibum, someone he wasn’t thrilled to see, to say the least. Hyukjae didn’t know whether to be angry or disappointed. The last time he spoke to the other was at the soccer field and that was not a fond memory.

“Hello,” he said softly and shuffled away from the door, somehow feeling like he was intruding, and that he didn’t have a right to be here.

Kibum swallowed and glanced around, clearly just as uncomfortable as Hyukjae was. “Is Donghae here?”

“I don’t know,” Hyukjae replied, realising how stupid that sounded shortly after. “I was just about to knock.”

“Oh,” Kibum mumbled and stuffed one hand in his pocket. They stood facing each other, occasionally sneaking a glance. Kibum cleared his throat and motioned to the door. “So… are you?”

Hyukjae blanched because that was a very good question. He curled his hand into a fist again, ready to knock, but after a few seconds of wavering strength, he backed down. “I don’t think we should see him together.” He kept his head looking another way so he didn’t have to see Kibum’s expression, not knowing what it would be like.

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” Kibum said and chuckled awkwardly. “I know you two have been having some problems…”

“Because of you,” Hyukjae muttered. He hadn’t intended for the words to be heard, or to say them at all, but they spilled out.

Kibum was silent for a few seconds before there was another awkward chuckle. “I figured.”

Those two words caused a flurry of annoyance in Hyukjae. If he knew, then why did he let it happen? If he knew, then why didn’t he back off? Hyukjae took a deep breath, summing up his strength. “What do you want with him?”

The other blinked at him blankly before lowering his head. He gave a small shrug, a rather sad one. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

He doesn’t know?  “T-Then why… why are you…” Hyukjae found himself be overtaken with some unexplainable frustration and he struggled with what words to use.

Kibum sighed and held up his hands. He wore an expression of guilt and regret. “I didn’t mean to cause anything between you two. I admit I saw what I was doing and… I don’t know… I knew it was wrong and I was being selfish but… I just…” he trailed off as his eyes glazed, getting a faraway look. “When I left, Donghae was devastated; he told me he’d wait for me. I wasn’t naïve, I didn’t expect him to nor had I asked, or would ever ask, him to. After a year, I told him I wasn’t coming back just yet and he got upset with me, because he really had waited. He told me he’d start looking for someone else, because he couldn’t keep waiting for someone who didn’t want to return. Anyway, I was stupid. I came back and thought that everything would be the same: Donghae would still love me. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t think he’d already have you.”

Hyukjae felt whatever frustration he had before draining from his body, feeling a bit of empathy for Kibum because perhaps for the first time he could relate to him. In a way, this was Kibum being replaced – Donghae moved on. It was like with him and Junsu: Yunho came along and suddenly Hyukjae no longer had a place. No matter how it is, it hurts. A lot. Only, Hyukjae didn’t want to be just Kibum’s replacement. He deserved more than that… right? They both did.

“He still loves you,” Hyukjae whispered and by God, he thought uttering those words would tear him up inside.

Kibum frowned slightly, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “I don’t think so, Hyukjae.”

“He told me,” Hyukjae insisted and felt his eyes moisten. Not now, please.

“You must have misheard,” Kibum said and looked very confused.

Hyukjae couldn’t understand why Kibum was being so resolute with his opinion. “Isn’t this what you wanted to hear?”

Kibum looked surprised by his tone, but didn't react. “Before, yes,” he admitted, but there was no relief or joy in his eyes, “but, now I’ve realised I love him more as a friend, and I can treat him better as a friend. We’re too alike, him and I. A romantic relationship needs balance and stability, someone to keep Donghae level-headed. I can’t love him the way he needs to be. I guess I was just jealous because he was always mine – my best friend, my boyfriend. It’s hard to accept that things have changed. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Of course he could.

Hyukjae’s hands clasped together and his fingers twisted around each other, stammering as he tried to think of how to respond. “What are you saying? That he loves me? That I can love him the way you can’t?” Kibum was out of his mind. There was always someone who could do something better than him. Always.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Kibum said and forfeited a small smile. When Hyukjae didn't reply, he continued. “Did you know Seoul lost against Suwon because Donghae kept looking up into the stands?”

Hyukjae wondered why on earth Kibum was bringing this up, but couldn’t be bothered to ask, so he simply nodded.

“He was looking at me,” the other declared, and his voice had a tone of certainty that made Hyukjae’s chest ache, until he spoke the next words, “and wishing it was you.”

Hyukjae didn’t end up seeing Donghae. He did knock, but Donghae didn’t seem to be home. From behind the door, he heard Bada barking and scratching at the surface. He remembered that yes, he had a key, but he didn’t feel like he should just enter when they were on rocky terms. Donghae, for all he knew, may have forgotten by now that he actually gave Hyukjae a