To: Yongguk

Hi it's Jongup

Wanna hang out?

The bar Yongguk chooses is dim and dingy, and the bartender seems to know him well. They sit at a table in the back corner with a couple of pints of beer. Jongup isn’t sure what to say. He waits for Yongguk to talk.

“So what have you been up to since graduation? Did you go to college?” Yongguk drains half his glass before Jongup can answer.

“Yes, but my degree isn’t very… It’s hard to get a job in my field. That’s why I work at the grocery store.”

“What is your field?”

“Dance. If you don’t get hired into a company right out of school, you’re pretty much stuck teaching, and I’m just… not that good with kids.”

“I didn’t think I was good with kids until I had a couple.”

“A couple?”

“Mhmm," Yongguk hums, "two boys. They’re two and three years old. You met my oldest, that day in the store.”

“Where are they tonight?”

“Oh, they live with their mom, but I get them on weekends. I’m too busy with work to take care of them during the week.”

Yongguk talks a lot, almost entirely about himself. He drinks a lot, and he steps outside to smoke often. He smells like an ashtray and cleaning products. He's not as friendly as Jongup remembers, and Jongup has to work hard not to cringe when Yongguk continually leans into him. The whole experience is... unpleasant.

Jongup isn’t sure he likes Yongguk anymore, but he still loves him. He can’t get his heart and his head to agree, and it makes him feel dizzy, though that could also be the beer.

It’s late when they say goodnight. Yongguk says they should do it again sometime soon. Jongup nods and walks away.

When he gets home, he takes Yongguk’s card out of his wallet. He tears it into confetti and watches the pieces flutter into the trash can. He’s back down to three.

{~O~}

The entire history of messages between Jongup and Himchan is just Jongup repeatedly sending the same message: Hi .

Every time he sends the message, Himchan comes, without fail. They share their coffee and their company, and it’s nice. It’s always nice.

One night Jongup breaks their silence.

“I left my boyfriend.” Himchan raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t make a sound. “I was… it was… I wasn’t happy. I kept thinking it might get better.” Himchan extends his arm across the counter and wraps his warm fingers around Jongup’s hand. His head tilts sideways, encouraging Jongup to continue. “It didn’t get better. I felt like I was drowning. I had to get out.” Jongup stares at their hands on the counter. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Himchan lower his head to see Jongup’s face.

There’s a soft, sympathetic smile teasing the corners of Himchan’s lips, not quite breaking through. It’s the first time Jongup has seen him smile though, and Jongup thinks it's a nice look on him.

“Are you happier?” His voice is so quiet, slightly raspy. It’s a sound that would be lovely to wake up to.

“Not really.” He feels Himchan’s thumb rubbing against the back of his hand. “I haven't been alone in so long I'm not sure I even know how to be alone anymore.”

“Did you keep the apartment?”

“I'm staying with my parents.”

Himchan nods. He doesn't talk anymore. He stays until close, and when Jongup locks the door behind them, Himchan takes his hand. He leads Jongup down the sidewalk, past the bakery, through a door, up some stairs. Himchan opens the door to a small, one-room apartment. There's a stove and fridge off to the right and a bed in the far left corner. A couch is pushed right up to the side of the bed, and there are only a few feet between the couch and a chest of drawers with a small television on top.

Himchan gestures to the couch, and Jongup sits, nervously picking at his cuticles as Himchan heats water in an electric kettle to make tea. Everything in the room smells like baked goods, like Himchan. Nothing smells like Youngjae anymore. Jongup shouldn’t miss it. He didn’t think he would, but he does.

The tears finally come. He cries. He has a full breakdown on a near stranger’s couch, and Himchan just holds him and lets him cry. When Jongup’s tears run dry Himchan moves them to the bed, and Jongup falls asleep in his arms. It still doesn’t smell like Youngjae, but Jongup thinks he can live with it.

{~O~}

Himchan isn’t just quiet, he’s nearly mute. Over the month that Jongup spends with Himchan he learns to listen when Himchan chooses to speak because his words are almost always meaningful. 

When they , Himchan tells him how good he is, how good it feels. When Jongup feels like crying, Himchan reminds him that it’s okay to be sad and that the feeling will pass in time. He’s a constant source of support and encouragement, and it drives Jongup crazy.

“Are you happy?”

Jongup looks up from his book. He’s curled into the corner of the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible. He’s not sure how to answer.

He’s… happier, he thinks, maybe. But…

“If you have to think about it that long, the answer is no.”

Jongup wants to cry again. He feels like lately that’s all he does. He s Himchan, he cries, and they cuddle.

“It’s okay if I don’t make you happy. It’s okay if you miss Youngjae. It’s okay if you’d rather be alone.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I’m okay with being your friend, Jongup. I didn’t expect us to be together forever. You were on the rebound.”

“So what do we do now?”

Himchan smiles, and Jongup likes him. He likes him, but he doesn’t love him. He wishes he did.

“Now... we one more time, because your is amazing and I'm sad I have to give that up." Jongup ducks his head to hide his smile. "Then you go back to your parents. You text me when you need a friend. You talk to me if you feel like it or you don’t if you don’t.”

“Is it really that simple?”

Himchan nods. He bends down to kiss Jongup on the cheek. He wraps his arms around Jongup’s shoulders. He sits beside him on the couch and waits.

Jongup cries. It doesn’t last as long this time, and when it passes, they , and he packs his clothes into his backpack and goes home to his parents.

Himchan still comes to visit when Jongup texts. He smiles more now, and Jongup thinks maybe they both did each other some good. Himchan still brings coffee and croissants. He still doesn’t talk, but they're friends and it's okay.

Jongup waits three weeks before he removes Himchan’s receipt from his wallet. He smiles as he tucks it between the pages of his favorite book and puts it back on the shelf. Only two remain.

{~O~}

“You're looking better than usual. Something happen?”

Today Daehyun's suit is navy with white pinstripes. His sky blue button down is crisp and starched, and his tie has silver and grey stripes in a seemingly random assortment of widths. Daehyun's eyes sparkle as Jongup looks up at him with more confidence than he's ever shown.

“I just feel free today,” he says.

“You know, I gave you my card awhile back but you never called me. Are you not interested?”

“I was with someone at the time.”

“But you're not now?” Daehyun gives him a cheeky grin, and Jongup can't help but smile back.

“No, I'm available.”

“Then would you like to have dinner with me sometime this week?” Jongup smiles. He actually smiles, and Daehyun steps back from the counter. “Whoa, you should warn a guy before you unleash the sun on him.” Daehyun laughs. It’s a warm sound. It makes Jongup’s chest feel funny. “So how about dinner, hmm?”

Jongup says yes.

Daehyun is full of surprises. As expected, he’s charming. He laughs and smiles like it’s a habit he can’t break.  Instead of taking Jongup out, Daehyun invites him over and cooks for him. It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta dish he throws together, but it tastes good and Jongup finds he enjoys watching Daehyun cook.

“I really didn’t think you’d agree to dinner.” They’re sitting on opposite ends of the white leather couch in Daehyun’s pristine living room. Daehyun looks almost shy as he runs his finger around the rim of his wine glass. “We’ve been dancing around each other for so long… I thought I was misreading the whole thing.”

“I told you, I was with someone.”

“Ah, but you flirted back, didn’t you?” His tone is teasing. Jongup smiles. He seems to be smiling a lot more lately.

“I didn’t realise I was flirting back. I was just…” Jongup doesn't know how to finish the sentence so he stares into his glass as he swirls his wine around instead.

“Being friendly?” Jongup is slightly startled as he notices Daehyun has set his wine aside and cut the distance between them in half. “Jongup, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re not actually all that friendly.”

Jongup would be upset if he didn’t know it was the truth. It’s not that he’s not friendly , but he’s often distracted or unhappy and probably comes off as cold. “No, I know.”

“But you are friendly with me. I could see the difference in how you treated me. Flirting.” Daehyun shifts closer again, taking Jongup's glass and placing it on the table. His fingers slide through Jongup’s hair, pushing it back behind his ear. “Jongup.” It’s just barely a breath in his ear. “Can I kiss you?”

Jongup nods. His eyes fall shut, and he feels Daehyun’s warmth wash over him as their lips touch. Those puffy lips that Jongup had admired from the other side of the counter for so long are just as soft and smooth as he imagined, and when Daehyun pulls away, Jongup chases him. He swings one leg over Daehyun and pins him to the back of the couch to taste him and nibble at his skin, and Daehyun whimpers.

Jongup a path up Daehyun's neck to his ear. “Can I you?” he asks.

The sound Daehyun makes is desperate and needy.  “Please. Please , Jongup,” he begs.

They don't even make it to the bed. Daehyun rides him right there on the couch, both of them still partially dressed, until Jongup’s fingers leave bruises on Daehyun’s hips with his grip.

Jongup wakes up sticky the next morning. His skin is plastered to the white leather with and sweat. There’s soft snoring coming from the open door of the bedroom. He gathers his clothes and slips out as quietly as he can.

He doesn’t do one night stands. The whole walk of shame thing is new for him. He feels sick. He feels dirty. Jongup isn’t even sure he wants to show up for work.

Daehyun comes in a little later than his normal time, grabbing a few energy drinks and a bit of breakfast from the deli before making his way to Jongup’s register to pay for his items. “You owe me for the mess on the couch,” he says under his breath. There’s a smirk on his face and no trace of the sweet man who cooked dinner for Jongup just hours ago. Even his puffy lips look poisonous. Jongup feels fire under his skin, but he’s not sure if it’s anger or embarrassment.

When Jongup gets rid of Daehyun’s card, he burns it. He lights the scented candle his mother keeps in the bathroom and holds the corner of the card over the flame until the heat is at his fingertips. He drops it in the sink and rinses the ashes down the drain. One.

{~O~}

Living at home at the age of 26 is beyond frustrating. Jongup is lucky that his parents no longer treat him like a teenager, giving him a curfew or punishing him for neglecting to call them when he won’t be home, but they still keep a close eye on his activities and question him constantly.

“I didn’t hear you come in last night. Did you have to work late?” Jongup’s father asks from behind his newspaper. The family is gathered for breakfast, something his mother nearly insisted on when he moved back in, claiming she needed to know he was eating at least one proper meal a day.

“Yeah,” Jongup answers because it’s easier than explaining that he misses his apartment and the idea of coming home to his parents instead of his boyfriend depresses him. It’s not entirely a lie. He had been at work. After he locked up he sat around with Himchan until he felt too tired to avoid going home any longer. Himchan had hugged him before they parted, and Jongup thought he’d never stop wishing he loved Himchan.

His parents accept his answer, and Jongup briefly wonders if they’re taking the easy route as well, choosing to believe him even though they know he’s lying. He thinks again about how easy it was to lie to Youngjae.

Jongup is thankful for the Spring weather and the ability to spend his day off anywhere but home. He rounds the corner of a building on his way to the park and is knocked backwards when he walks straight into a tall, thin someone with bright pink hair. A pair of hands immediately brace Jongup by his elbows, steadying him on his feet.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there and--hey, don’t I know you?” Jongup is a bit stunned, still recovering from the loss of balance, but he recognises the actions and the voice. It’s a voice he hears in his dreams, the ones that don’t turn into nightmares.

“Junhong?” The expression of concern on Junhong’s face turns to surprise and confusion, his eyebrows seemingly unsure whether to go up or down.

“ Do I know you?”

“Um, no. Not really, but we’ve… uh… we’ve been in this position before. Only there was a taxi door between us last time.”

“Oh! Oh, god! That was you, I recognise you now. Jeez, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why this keeps happening to us.”

Jongup laughs, freely. It’s like something has broken apart in his chest, the vices that had gripped his lungs and heart releasing their hold so that he can take a full breath for the first time in what feels like years.

Junhong takes a step back. “Are you okay? I mean, I didn't knock anything loose when we crashed, did I?”

“No, no I'm fine. It's okay, really.” Jongup stares up at Junhong. He still looks young, but of course he does. It’s only been half a year. He wouldn’t have changed that much in so little time, but he doesn't look like a child anymore.

“You seem so different,” Junhong says. “It’s like you’re not even the same person I met before. You look better.” Junhong nods like he's got it all figured out, and Jongup tells him that yes, he  feels better. It feels good to know the difference is noticeable. “I don't even know your name. Why do I feel like I owe you a hot chocolate?”

“Mmm… buy me coffee and I’ll tell you my name.” Jongup flashes his teeth in what he hopes is a flirty smile, but he can feel his face betraying him. The smile is more shy than flirty, and it ends with him nervously nibbling at his lower lip.

Maybe that's what works for Junhong because he happily agrees and suggests a cafe nearby where the barista knows him well enough not to screw up his annoyingly complicated concoction of flavored syrups and steamed milk with a just whisper of caffeine.

“So, how about that name?” Junhong leans across the table on his elbows, and he’s so tall he manages to reach almost all the way to Jongup’s side. Junhong is cute, just like Jongup expected.

“Jongup. My name is Jongup.”

“Oh, man. It’s a relief to finally know you’re name. I’ve been calling you 'that boy’ for months.”

“You’ve been thinking of me?”

“Of course. You're kind of unforgettable.” Jongup blushes right down to his toes. He doesn't remember being this shy around anyone before. He feels awkward and out of place. He doesn't know how to take the compliment so he just mumbles a thank you and keeps his eyes on his coffee. “I noticed you remembered my name. Does that mean you've been thinking about me too?”

Jongup pulls out his wallet and fishes out Junhong's card. The cardstock is so worn and soft that it almost curls in his hand as he places it on the table and pushes it under Junhong's nose.

“You kept my card?” His voice is filled with awe. “How come you never called?”

“I was in a relationship, and then I was kind of sad for a while.” Jongup shrugs shoulders as he fiddles with the plastic lid on his cup. “I didn't actually figure you'd remember me anyway.” He truly didn't, but he had hoped.

“Since you can't be trusted to contact someone,” Junhong teases him, “do you think I could have your number?”

Jongup gives Junhong his number without a second thought, and he's just barely made it to the park when his phone buzzes with a message from Junhong.

From: Junhong

Did you say you dance?

There's a workshop this weekend

If you're free we could go together

To: Junhong

Sign me up