It hasn’t quite reached midnight when his door gets knocked on. He isn’t expecting anyone, he never expects anyone. When people even bother to come see him they at least have the decency to send him a quick text to tell him they’re coming. He likes to pretend he doesn’t live for those nights, but he probably does. He figured it’s just a drunk or someone lost – maybe it’s even someone looking to kill him – but talking to another human being would be nice, so he opens the door.

The person he sees standing on the other side of the door is the last person he expects though. The man standing there, staring back at him hasn’t changed much. He’s still too skinny, too tan, and his neck is still too long. Seemed like five years of normal sleeping patterns and the opportunity to eat three meals a day hadn’t had any effect on his health at all.

“Hi Himchan.” His voice was still deep, not that Himchan had expected anything different. It would have been nice, he thought, if hearing that voice didn’t bring back painful memories of a whirlwind romance. A romance that, to him, had been out of love, and to his partner had been out of convenience.  The lump in his throat told him that five years hadn’t been long enough to get over it either.

He doesn’t think he needs to bother to respond, so he doesn’t. He doesn’t close the door either though. If the other male wants to come in then he can. If he doesn’t, then Himchan figures it won’t hurt anymore than the last time they walked out of each other’s lives.

He heard the door close, but he didn’t bother to check if the other male had come into the apartment or not. “After five years that’s all the greeting I get?” He sounded as though he had forgotten why they hadn’t had any contact for five years. He was too cheerful to be a man walking into the apartment of the man whose heart he shattered.

“Do you think I owe you more?” He asked, heading into the kitchen. The man was a guest, even if they didn’t get along. He needed to offer drinks. “You’re lucky I opened the door.” He held a soda out to his guest, not quite meeting his gaze. “Are you lonely again?” He asked, praying his voice didn’t betray how close to crying he actually was; that wouldn’t be any good.

It didn’t seem as though Yongguk had a response to that. Not that there was anything he could have said to make the situation better. It wasn’t easy to wake up at thirty and realise that you were alone, it didn’t get any easier at thirty-six either.  Yongguk had been able to pick himself up and got hitched two months later, but things hadn’t worked out for Himchan. He wondered if that had been the other’s plan all along.

“No.” Yongguk muttered, taking the can from his companion. “I suppose you’re right.”

It was quiet in the apartment. Yongguk was visiting out of the blue for a reason; they just had to wait until he was ready to reveal it. They both sipped their drinks, avoiding the other’s gaze.

“I left my wife.” And there it was. It was exactly what Himchan thought it would be, Yongguk was lonely. His marriage had failed and he still thought he deserved to be serviced.

Himchan looked over to his former companion. He couldn’t let the other see how much it hurt to stand in the same room as him. He told himself to be strong and he wasn’t going to let Yongguk affect him anymore. Yongguk didn’t affect him anymore. “What does that have to do with me? We don’t contact each other for a reason.”

Yongguk sighed. It was funny, Himchan thought, that Yongguk could act as if he was the victim in all of this; as though Yongguk hadn’t been the one to tell his partner he had been having an affair, that he had never been gay.

(Then why, Himchan had asked, why did you stay all these years?)

“Can I stay the night?”

“Get a hotel.”

“I left my card at the house. Can you please let me sleep here tonight?” Himchan sighed but waved his hand at the couch. He couldn’t let someone go without a bed, even if that someone had broken his heart. Perhaps it was time to pull out his friend Jack from under the bed. “I never heard that you got married.”

“Because I didn’t. It’s not legal in this country, and I’m not about to marry a woman I don’t love. Or mess around with a man just so I can get my rocks off.” He hoped that Yongguk caught the accusatory tone in his voice. “I’m not interested in messing with people’s emotions.”

“Do you have a partner then?” He wasn’t getting the hint. How could he have even thought it was his business if Himchan was seeing anyone or not?

He shrugged his shoulders in defeat, Yongguk obviously wanted to talk more in one night than he ever had before in his life. Of course he would want to talk when Himchan had finally lost the desire to do so. “I don’t. I haven’t had one either.”

The other male hummed softly, probably laughing at Himchan in his head. “No one?”

“Not even a second date.” He shrugged his shoulders. Of course he had tried. He had met men, he had tried dating websites, and he had truly wanted to put himself out there. But if his date even bothered to show up for the first date, he didn’t for the second. Maybe they could all tell that he was still in love with someone else. He wasn’t as single as he had tried to portray. “Thirty isn’t as appealing as twenty.”

Yongguk sat his can down on the counter and Himchan figured he was going to walk out of the apartment. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither one of them bothering to look at the other. “Thirty five is pretty good though.”

Himchan sighed. “There’s nothing good about a thirty-five year old man who’s still alone.” He threw his empty can away and walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t have much he could offer but he tossed a blanket onto the couch and borrowed one of the decorative pillows from his chair. That was more than Yongguk deserved anyway. “Order breakfast when you wake up.”

He walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. This wasn’t fair. Why did Yongguk just get to come and go as he pleased? Sliding into his bed he looked around his bedroom. He knew everything that was in the room, but looking at it after reencountering Yongguk made everything seem different.

He had chosen tasteful decorations – of course he had – but beautiful figurines and photographs of far off places didn’t make up for the lack of evidence of loved ones. There wasn’t any evidence that Himchan even had a person in the world he cared about. No images of himself with friends or pictures of his family. Maybe there hadn’t been anyone since Yongguk though. He hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to make new companionship.  

He rolled onto his stomach, sighing softly. It wasn’t doing any good for him to think about his own loneliness. He knew exactly how he could make it better, he just had to be willing to do something about it. He wasn’t though. He hadn’t tried in years, and he didn’t figure that he would try the next day. As he closed his eyes, he felt something warm next to him. It had been a while, so he wasn’t sure, but it felt like someone lying next to him.

Ten years. Himchan smiled as he scrolled through the vacation website. He had spent the entirety of his twenties with the same man, he figured that was something to be proud of; regardless of what his parents said. He had been putting away small amounts of his monthly wages away for five years. Figuring it one day they made it this far he could take his boyfriend on a nice trip.

“What are you doing?” His boyfriend’s gruff voice came from the other side of the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out something. Himchan wasn’t really paying attention to what the other was doing. “Why are you working on the weekend?”

Himchan looked up, watching the way his boyfriend’s muscles moved under his skin. He had finally started gaining weight in recent years and Himchan thought he looked much better that way. “I’m planning a vacation.”

“Ah. You don’t need to do that.” He muttered, putting his glass down on the counter. “I’d rather you didn’t.” He nodded his head and his heel to walk out of the room. Himchan shrugged and continued planning anyway.

The next morning when Himchan woke up he found a sticky note on the pillow next to him. You’re still a kicker Chan. You also still make that snorting noise when you sleep. I had work this morning, but I’ll come back soon. I love you. Guk.

At thirty-five, Himchan was in the same place he was in at thirty. He slipped out of his bed and began gathering the things he thought were important. A few chosen articles of clothing were zipped into a small suitcase, his laptop carelessly stuffed into one of the pockets.

At thirty Himchan had walked out of Yongguk’s life, but at thirty-five Yongguk was waiting at the door.

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I don't really know. This is just what I've got today.