This was meant to be some short thing... but um...
here~ have 3,128 words of slightly bitter sweetness
instead of my usual fluffy sweetness ♥

Of promises kept

“You’ll never get published, Hyung! Why can’t you see that? You’ll never be successful, you’ll never be famous, you’ll never be a best-seller and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on with your life.”

-

The clear memory of those words echoed in Jiyong’s head. He remembered that night very well, the last time he saw his beloved hyung. Two long years, not one word, phone call, email, text, letter... nothing. Not that emails or text messages were ever a part of their frequent communication. But a hand written letter was much more his style... but no letters ever came and his letterbox remained empty for those long years. And then one morning—when he least expected it and had long since given up any small flicker of hope left in his aching heart—there he was. Choi Seunghyun. A tiny picture in the newspaper, staring at him over breakfast. Underneath were a few words detailing the new author’s first book signing. The small snippet was brief but straight to the point, informing Jiyong of when and where he needed to be in ten words or less.

And here was–Kwon Jiyong standing in line, book in hand and nervous as hell.

Jiyong had to admit that he was quite surprised by the turn out (but pleasantly so). When he arrived there was already a line, not surprisingly made up entirely of women. Those dark eyes and that dimpled smile always did have a way of everyone in and causing anyone and everyone around him to swoon into a boneless pile of limbs on the floor. Judging by the blushing, giggling line of ladies, it meant there was a high possibility that Seunghyun’s debut was a romance novel, and this made Jiyong want to laugh hysterically until he was crying and couldn’t breathe. Choi Seunghyun, the romance novelist.

Jiyong tried to imagine what type of cheesy clichéd love-story Seunghyun had written about as he watched the line get shorter and shorter. But when flashes of long fingers wrapping around delicate wrists and strong arms effortlessly supporting narrow hips and broad chest heaving with panting breathes invades his mind, Jiyong had to furiously rub his eyes to get rid of the vivid images. Jiyong couldn’t fight off the twisting nerves and the sickening guilt settling deep in his stomach. There was no denying that he was happy for his hyung but that still didn’t ease his nerves, not one bit. He hadn’t planned any speeches or given any thought about what he was going to say, so for the next few minutes at least, Jiyong would be at the mercy of one and only Mr. Choi.

Seunghyun hadn’t made any effort to get in contact with him, so who’s to say that he’d be pleased to see Jiyong after all this time? Maybe he never wanted to see him again. What if the mere sight of Jiyong makes Seunghyun react in complete anger and fury and he turns over the table in a violent rage? ...Okay so maybe the panic was settling in a little too strongly.

As the girl in front of him went up to the desk and approached the now famous writer, Jiyong got his first clear look at Seunghyun since he stepped inside. He was quite shocked at how great Seunghyun looked... he was like an entirely different person. That long, black, always messy and falling into his eyes hairstyle was gone—replaced by light caramel brown locks of hair that looked softer than silk, styled neatly into a perfect quiff. A pair of thick, slightly square rimmed glasses sat perched proudly on that elegant nose. Crisp white shirt hid that strong chest Jiyong was so intimately familiar with, covered by a red vest and neatly tailored black suit jacket, all completed with a simple yet stylish black tie. And even though Jiyong couldn’t see what pants he was wearing, somehow he just knew that whatever brand or style they were, they would be hugging those thick thighs and firm perfectly. No afternoon stubble, neat hair, expensive frames, presentable clothes. Jiyong could tell that beneath all of the changes, he was still that same boyishly handsome hyung with dimples and eyes which twinkled when he smiled, really smiled. It was strange to see him looking so fresh and clean. Whether it was a good strange or a bad strange, Jiyong was yet to find out.

-

When it was his turn, Jiyong quickly fluffed his hair and stepped forward with a deep breath which did nothing to settle the buzz of butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach. Seunghyun didn’t look up when he approached and Jiyong handed him the book with trembling hands.

Still not looking, Seunghyun asked in a cheerful voice “And what lovely name am I making this out to?”

“I’m not really sure if Jiyong is a lovely name but...” he trailed off when Seunghyun’s head immediately snapped up at the sound of his voice, “I guess it’d be a good start.” He let out a shaky breath, allowing a small smile to pull on one side of his mouth but the nerves didn’t fade away, not with Seunghyun staring at him with those warm brown eyes.

“Ji.” Seunghyun’s face broke into a grin, his eyes creasing at the corners.

Jiyong could only nod; his body seemed to go limp at the sound of Seunghyun using his long-forgotten nickname. Seunghyun opened the book and began writing his message.

“Have you read it?” he enquired, still scribbling.

Jiyong frowned, a pout beginning to form on his lips, “Well, um-”

“It’s okay,” he closed the book and looked at Jiyong with gentle eyes. “I don’t expect you to.” Seunghyun offered him a smile – another difference. Seunghyun never smiled to put others at ease. Ever.

“Thanks, Hyun,” Jiyong gave him a small smile in return as he picked up his book—now a one of a kind, signed copy. Without a second glance, Jiyong turned, ready to walk away from those eyes and those dimples.

“Jiyong,” Seunghyun stopped him, his voice was calm but Jiyong knew those eyes better than anyone else’s and could see the rising panic in those dark brown eyes. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Jiyong shook his head, stunned that Seunghyun was trying to keep him there longer, let alone inquiring into his personal schedule.

“Would you care to join me-” Seunghyun cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he coughed nervously. “Um, want to grab some coffee later?”

Jiyong had never seen Seunghyun so nervous – or hopeful. Sure, Seunghyun was very quiet and reserved around anybody he didn’t know well but his hyung was always loud and confident and boisterous around his dongsaeng. It was those hopeful eyes searching his own for something they couldn’t seem to find and the fact that Jiyong didn’t want to say goodbye—not just yet, anyway—that lead him to open his mouth and mumble out a quiet, “Sure.”

“Excellent!” Seunghyun gave out a relieved laugh, those damned dimples making yet another appearance. “How does 8 o’clock sound to you?”

“Eight’s fine.”

“The usual place then?”

Jiyong smiled, answered with a nod and waved a hand goodbye.

“Bye Ji,” Seunghyun called out as Jiyong made his was out of the bookstore.

-

Jiyong was late. It was already half past eight and his stupidly pink tinted fringe still wasn’t sitting right and he still couldn’t find the right shoes. Why was he so nervous? It was just Seunghyun. What did it matter how he looked?

“Kwon Jiyong, you idiot,” he whispered to his own worried reflection. “It’s because it’s Seunghyun.

Jiyong had lost count how many times his eyes had scanned over the perfectly printed message inside the front cover of his book. Enough times that if he were to close his eyes, he could still clearly see those words inked across the page.

To my dearest Jiyongie,
For all that my words are worth—I'm sorry.
Forever yours, Hyun.

With those wods echoing inside his head, he grabbed the nearest jacket and closest pair of shoes he could see and scrambled out the door.

-

Twenty minutes later, an out-of-breath Jiyong was standing outside ‘the usual place’. Not a cheap and dirty all-night cafe but a coffee house, full of quaint private booths, inside and out. The place people go when they want privacy, intimacy. Their old table was outside, where Seunghyun could smoke as much as he pleased. That’s where Jiyong was headed when Seunghyun appeared from one of the closed off booths inside the cafe, tucked away into the corner with nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamps along the wall to light the way.

“Sorry m’late.”  Jiyong mumbled, directly avoiding eye contact with the man standing in front of him. Seunghyun had ditched the button up shirt and tie with it’s cute little vest for a much more classic and simple looking long-sleeved black sweater, the arms pushed up to his elbows to expose those muscled forearms Jiyong used to cherish the sight of.

“It’s alright,” Seunghyun smiled. “I already took the liberty of ordering for you,” Seunghyun held out a hand to help Jiyong into his seat. “I hope that’s okay?”

So not only has Seunghyun developed a newly acquired vocabulary of a professional and published writer but he’s also discovered what it means to be a gentleman and act accordingly. What on earth took place over these past two years of separation?

“Why aren’t we sitting outside?” Jiyong blurted out in confusion as he contorted his gangly limbs and climbed into the booth, plonking himself on to the squishy cushions. He nervously ran a hand through his light pink hair in hopes of somehow taming the stubborn mess, blowing out of his cheeks until they puffed out.

“It’s much nicer in here don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Jiyong shrugged. “I’ve never really took much notice.”

“And I’ve given up smoking, so there’s no need to sit out in the cold anymore.” Seunghyun added and looked down at his clasped hands resting atop of the wooden table between them.

“You what?!” Jiyong squeaked.

“Two years, not one cigarette,” Seunghyun beamed proudly. “Cold turkey too.”

Before Jiyong could go any further into shock, the waitress brought their order over.

“Hope you still like espresso con piano,” Seunghyun pushed the cup toward him.

“Espresso con Panna, Hyun.” Jiyong looked down at the sweet goodness that was espresso coffee topped with thick whipped cream.

“It was three sugars right?” Seunghyun smiled, obviously pleased with himself for remembering his dongsaeng’s favourite caffeinated beverage.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jiyong said quietly, biting down on his bottom lip as he looked down at the coffee but didn’t touch it.

“What’s the matter?” Seunghyun asked, those perfectly thickly shaped brows of his pulling slightly.

“I’m sorry, Seunghyun but it’s just...” Jiyong onto his bottom lip, chewing on it for a few moments. “I don’t exactly drink coffee anymore,” Jiyong looked over at him apologetically.

Seunghyun looked down at the scratched surface of the table and leaned back a little. “Oh.”

“But thank you...” Jiyong mumbled. “I can’t believe you actually remembered.”

“How could I forget,” Seunghyun said softly. “Well what do you like now, tea? Or I guess that’s still got caffeine too, huh?” Seunghyun rambled off slightly, running his fingers through his hair, unintentionally messing it up.

“Tea’s fine.”

“I’ll go order you one,” Seunghyun said and stood up.

“No, Hyung, it’s fine really,” Jiyong tried to stop him but Seunghyun was already making his way to the counter. Since when did Seunghyun pay for others? Or himself.

Jiyong was left at the secluded booth with nothing but his swirling, confusing thoughts and pounding heart for company. Shortly after, Seunghyun placed a porcelain cup in front of him, which smelled of cinnamon and ginger.

“It’s called Bengal spice and it’s caffeine free,” Seunghyun smiled as he sat down across from him.

“So, what’s it about?” Jiyong asked as he swirled his finger through the hot tea, ignoring the burn and sting. “Your book I mean. It’s a romance isn’t it? So what happens?” Jiyong dared to steal a glance up at the other man through his fringe, refusing to completely lift his head to meet his gaze.

But Seunghyun merely shook his head, taking a slow sip from his own cup, “You don’t care.”

“I want to know, tell me,” he insisted.

“No you don’t,” Jiyong opened his mouth to argue but Seunghyun wouldn’t allow it and continued. “I mean, it’s not that important, really. Not now, anyway,” Seunghyun smiled but it was tight at the corners, “there are other pleasantries I’m sure you’d rather discuss.”

Jiyong bit down on his bottom lip, holding his tongue and ignoring the ridiculous way Seunghyun insisted on speaking to him. It was as though they were strangers meeting on a blind date and getting to know each other for the first time. “Pleasantries such as?”

“Well, let’s see...” Seunghyun trailed off and watched Jiyong nibble on his lip. It was a nervous habit he’d had as long as Seunghyun cared to remember. He couldn’t help but grin to himself that some things never change.

Jiyong squirmed under Seunghyun’s watchful eyes, “What?”

“Nothing,” Seunghyun laughed. “You’re exactly the same you know,” he leant over and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “haven’t changed one bit.” He frowned at the almost blond hair entwined with his fingers. “Well... except for the pink hair, that is.”

Jiyong didn’t know how to respond so he buried his face in his cup.

“And the tea thing.” The corners of Seunghyun’s mouth pulled down just a fraction. “That’s new too I guess.”

“How about you, huh? Mr. Big shot author,” Jiyong raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Seunghyun shifted a little in his seat, fidgeting with the rolled up sleeves of his black sweater. “That’s not change though,” he cleared his throat, “that’s just career advancement.”

Jiyong narrowed his eyes, may as well finish off what he started. “And what about the cigarettes? They were like oxygen to you.”

Seunghyun met Jiyong’s stare, and without skipping a beat replied with his own demanding question. “Why did you stop drinking coffee?”

“What?”

“You heard me, Jiyong,” Seunghyun folded his arms. “Why did you stop drinking coffee?”

Jiyong lowered his head and let his hair fall over his face, hiding it from Seunghyun. He was too embarrassed to admit the reason to him. He knew perfectly well why he had given up caffeine; because Seunghyun had asked him to. Because his hyung was too concerned over his poor sleeping habits and worried about his increasingly worse insomnia. Because he promised Seunghyun he would give up coffee if Seunghyun quit smoking. Suddenly it dawned on Jiyong that Seunghyun had kept true to his promise as well.

“That’s what I thought,” Seunghyun paused. “The same reason I quit.”

Seunghyun’s smugness irritated Jiyong. Everything about this whole day irritated Jiyong. What gave Seunghyun the right to sit there and act like he was Mr. Perfect all of a sudden? Since when had Seunghyun ever been better than Jiyong? They were supposed to be ed-up nobodies together.

“Did the neat little haircut and new wardrobe come along with that ‘career advancement’? Or did they come free with the cookie cutter image of what the publishing house wanted to sell you as?”

Jiyong regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth but some broken part inside his heart just couldn’t bring himself to feel completely bad for what he said. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this again, push Seunghyun away. This was the first chance he’d gotten at trying to repair the damage he’d caused and so far, he wasn’t doing too well. He knew his words would have cut deep and he prepared himself for the familiar sound of anger in Seunghyun’s voice.

His brown eyes stared back at Jiyong. “You’re right,” Seunghyun let out a long sigh. “I’ve sold myself out. I know.”

“Seunghyun, I-”

“I’m sorry, Jiyong,” Seunghyun cut him off and reached over to grab Jiyong’s hand.

He couldn’t believe his ears, Seunghyun had just apologised... for changing? Jiyong wasn’t too happy about Seunghyun grabbing his hand like that, so suddenly and openly but he didn’t pull away. They drank in silence, hand in hand, Seunghyun rubbing his thumb over Jiyong’s knuckles every once in a while.

Jiyong was more confused. More irritated. More everything. He couldn’t think straight, all he could focus on was Seunghyun’s large, warm hand on top of his.

-

Seunghyun turned to face Jiyong before opening the door to his fourth-floor apartment, “Come inside.”

“I can’t, Hyun,” Jiyong’s fingers came up to his chest and pretended to pick a stray thread that just didn’t exist. “M’ too scared.” His voice was soft, quiet, trembling at the edges—just like his hands were.

“Ji,” Seunghyun pleaded. “Nothing bad is going to happen,” he placed a finger under Jiyong’s chin, coaxing him to raise his face until those big brown eyes stared back at him, stealing his breath away.

Jiyong’s eyes shimmered in the dull light as he looked up at him, “That’s what I’m scared of, Hyung.”

Seunghyun wrapped his arm around Jiyong’s waist and pulled him closer. He ran his hand through Jiyong’s hair and came to rest it on his cheek, running his thumb over the high cheekbone. He planted a kiss on the very tip of Jiyong’s cold nose and pressed their foreheads together.

“You’re still as beautiful as ever, Yongie,” Seunghyun whispered.

Seunghyun tightened his grip on the small waist and leant down to slowly press their lips together. The kiss was very hesitant, completely different to how they used be. Jiyong was unmoving, frozen in place by Seunghyun’s strong arms. Seunghyun was being overly cautious. Gently pressing soft and short kisses to Jiyong’s plump, velvety lips and pulled back to look at Jiyong each time their lips connected. It was shy and new and exciting—and somehow Jiyong’s mind couldn’t help but to pull up long-forgotten memories of their first shared kisses when they were much younger and much more afraid.

After some time, Seunghyun drew back and Jiyong’s cheeks, trying to get the younger man to look up at him. Jiyong whimpered and gripped tightly onto Seunghyun’s shoulders to stop his knees giving way. He buried his face in Seunghyun’s neck, taking in his smell. There was no smell of tobacco on his skin, a new aftershave – slightly fruitier than his old one and he could smell the peppermint from Seunghyun’s coffee. He smelled different... and Jiyong liked it.