The next morning Jiwon has to leave early for work. Hanbin pretends to be asleep as he slips out of bed, keeps his eyes closed as Jiwon moves quietly around the room getting dressed, keeps his breath even when Jiwon leans over with a rustle of sheets and the faint hint of cologne and presses his lips to Hanbin’s forehead. For a moment Jiwon lingers, and Hanbin can hear the gentle sound of his breath, feel the tension in air and he almost opens his eyes but then Jiwon sighs and turns. Hanbin hears the bedroom door click shut behind him and feels like he has lost something, but he’s not sure what.

It’s just that he doesn’t think he can look at Jiwon without crying right now, doesn’t think his heart can take it. There will be a time for celebration, later. A time to be grateful for what he has and has had and a time to look to the future, but that time is not now. Right now, Hanbin mourns. Mourns for what he is about to lose, and what could have been. He feels a dry, hollow, brittle place open in his chest and there’s a numbness that settles there, like heavy snow over a forest it muffles the sounds of the world around him like his ears have been stuffed with cotton.

Finally he gets out of bed and makes his way down the flight of steps to his own apartment. Unlocking the door he walks in and drops onto the couch, staring blankly at the opposite wall. He needs to talk to someone, needs to say the words echoing in his head, needs to share his pain with someone else. He pulls out his phone and starts to scroll through the contacts, he bypasses Chanwoo because he’s just to kind and too in love to dump something like this on him, especially not when it could get back to Hayi. Next is Jinhwan, and he pauses on that name for a long moment, finger hovering over the call button. The thing is Jinhwan would be all gentle, sympathetic eyes and warm hugs and understanding and Hanbin doesn’t know if he can take that right now. Doesn’t know if he can take the softness right now, the kindness, he feels like right now in his grief he needs something different. He doesn’t want soft edges, he wants truth, even if it stings. He scrolls down to the next name on the list and hits dial.

Junhoe picks up after three rings, voice still groggy from sleep.

“Jesus Hanbin, do you know what time it is?”

He rolls his eyes at that,

“I do actually, it’s past 10. In the morning.”

“Yes. Exactly. Too early for you to be calling me or me to be awake.”

Junhoe says, grumpily. Hanbin ignores his grumbling and forges on undeterred.

“Listen, do you want to meet up later? For lunch or something?”

Junhoe sighs on the other end of the line, the sound of his breath echoing in Hanbin’s ear.

“Yeah, sure. You’re lucky I like you so much, you know."

“Thank you Junhoe. Really.”

Hanbin says, and he can hear his voice cracking on the last syllable. When Junhoe replies again there is no exasperation in his voice, just a hint of concern.

“Of course man. Anytime.”

The line clicks, and Hanbin is left with nothing but static anda  pit in the bottom of his stomach. He sits there for a while, phone still pressed to his ear and the sound of traffic filtering in through his half opened window. Finally he pulls the phone away, throwing it onto the couch beside him. It bounces a few times, coming to rest precariously close to the lip of the cushion, half hanging off the edge. Hanbin feels a lot like he’s hanging off the edge of a long drop too, hanging by the tips of his fingers, and he’s not sure whether he should let go or tighten his grip. Not sure what will happen if he falls. Sighing he rubs his hands across his face, digging his fingers deep into the curve between his eyes and the bridge of his nose, thumbs reaching up into his hairline, letting his palms press against the line of his jaw. Sun filters through his fingers and stains the back of his eyelids red and orange. Letting his hands drop he pushes himself to his feet and heads to the shower.

Stepping in he turns the knob as high as it will go and lets his head fall against the off-white tile of the shower wall, ceramic cool against his forehead. Steam starts to rise as the water heats, beating down against his back. Comfortable at first but quickly growing hotter till it stings against his skin. He stands under it for as long as he can, letting the water burn away at the numbness in his chest. He still feels cold. When he steps out of the shower his skin is red and his bathroom is covered in beads of condensation. He walks over to the mirror, wiping away at fog that covers the glass, but he finds no answers in the eyes he sees reflected back at him. Shaking his head he quickly towels himself off and pulls on a change of clothes, shaking damp hair as he pulls a tee shirt over his head. He retrieves his phone from the couch and checks his messages. There’s one from Hayi, asking if he’s thought about the offer yet. He ignores that. He’ll answer her today, he has to at some point, but he doesn’t think he can do it yet, can't make it real. There’s one from Jiwon too, it just says I love you. He ignores that one too and feels guilt flare hot and bitter in his stomach, and he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s still too early to leave to meet Junhoe yet so he flicks on his TV and leans back, crossing his arms. A few minutes later his phone buzzes, Jiwon again, but he just turns it to silent and shoves it back in his pocket.

It’s not that he’s trying to avoid Jiwon, or that he doesn’t want to talk to him, it’s just that he needs space right now. Needs time to breathe, and to harden his heart. To process. He feels bad, because Jiwon’s hurting right now to he knows, and he’ll apologize later but right now he needs this. Needs to not be around Jiwon, because right now it hurts too much to see him, and remember that he’s going to lose him. 

An hour later he switches off the TV and stands to get ready to go. He’s pretty sure that even if someone held a gun to his head he wouldn’t be able to tell them any of what he just watched. Slipping on his shoes he grabs his keys and backpack and heads out the door. He heads down the street to the corner store and picks up some cheap sushi before hopping on the subway. It’s mostly empty, most people are already at work, and he sits in an empty car and listens to the sound of the train rattling on it’s tracks and doesn’t think about Jiwon. Tries not to think about Jiwon. Fails.

It takes three knocks for Junhoe to answer his door, and Hanbin watches the street below as he waits. Finally Junhoe opens the door, hair still damp from the shower and dripping water onto the neck of his shirt. Hanbin holds up the plastic bag on one finger, letting it dangle gently.

“Buy you lunch?”

Junhoe reaches out and unhooks the bag from Hanbin’s fingers, pulling it open and peaking at the contents. He raises an eyebrow and says dryly,

“You’re really spoiling me here. Where’d you get this? 7-11?”

Hanbin grins at him and shakes his head,

“Don’t ever say I don’t buy you anything nice.”

Junhoe rolls his eyes,

“Alright sure, whatever. Let me grab my jacket.”

He disappears for a moment and then reappears, shrugging on his coat and turning to lock the door behind him.

There’s a little park just down the street from Junhoe’s place, tucked into a corner between another apartment building and a chinese restaurant. They head there now, dropping onto a wooden bench hidden from the main road by a line of trees. The wood is rough, splinters digging into the fabric of Hanbin’s jeans and the bench is covered in graffiti. Somebodies carved Yu-jin x Ji-hoon for ever onto one of the slats by his thigh. He traces the characters with his fingers. He wonders how long forever was for them. The gentle nudge of Junhoe’s elbow interrupts his thoughts. He looks up to see Junhoe holding out a plastic container of sushi and a pair of chopsticks. After he takes them Junhoe rummages in the bag between them and pulls out his own food, taking off the lid and putting it to the side. Leaning back he stretches out his legs, crossing them in front of him and takes a bite, chewing slowly. Finally he asks,

“So. Why’d you want to meet up?”

Hanbin looks at him sideways through the soft fringe of his bangs, picking at the peeling sticker on the lid of his sushi.

“Can’t I just want to hang out with my friend?”

Junhoe gives him a look and Hanbin avoids eye contact, focusing on the now shredded sticker.

“Jesus, you’re so skeptical.”

“It’s just how my mama raised me,”

Junhoe quips, sticking another roll into his mouth. When he finishes chewing he says,

“Anyways, you didn’t answer my question.”

Hanbin sighs, swallowing hard.

“I-I got a job.”

Junhoe looks confused, eyebrows furrowing.

“Congratulations? I guess?”

“It’s in Germany. And it’s permanent. Well, semi-permanent. I mean, I don’t know really. It’s for a long time though.”

Realization dawns on Junhoe’s face and he stops with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

“Oh.”

He says,

“.”

Hanbin laughs, and it’s only a little bitter.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you told Jiwon yet?”

Hanbin nods.

“Last night.”

“How’d he take it?”

Hanbin shrugs uncomfortably.

“I…I don’t know. As good as can be expected I guess…I wasn’t going to take the offer but then… he told me I should. Said he didn’t want to hold me back.”

Junhoe sighs, rubs at his forehead.

“Jesus. The universe just isn’t cutting you two any breaks is it.”

Hanbin shakes his head. They both sit in silence for a while, the air tense and awkward. Finally Junhoe speaks again,

“Look, I’m not really best with this sort of stuff. Why didn’t you call Jinhwan or something? He’s much better with…emotional crap… then I am.”

Hanbin shrugs a little, still not quite sure why he hadn’t. Jinhwan had always been the mother hen of their little group of friends, the one everyone always went to with their problems. The one who fusses and frets and worries. And maybe that’s the reason, because Jinhwan would worry, would care. And Hanbin thinks that if Jinhwan looked at him with those soft sympathetic eyes he might scream. Junhoe’s looking at him expectantly now, waiting for an answer. He swallows hard, and when he looks to Junhoe he feels a sort of desperation threaten to drown him,

“I need… I need to hear you say I made the right choice, say it and mean it. Please, Junhoe, tell me I’m making the right choice.”

Junhoe looks at him for a long time, quiet, and Hanbin feels like his lungs are being crushed by something to heavy to put words too, something he can’t name.

“There aren’t any….right… choices in this world. Choices always hurt, and if they didn’t would they really be choices at all? I guess-I guess we just have to decide who we hurt and how much, and sometimes who we choose to hurt is ourselves but much more often it’s someone else who does the hurting for us. And, in the worst cases, nobody escapes unscathed. All we can do is do the best with what we choose. Right or wrong. You’ll- you’ll be alright in the end. This but you gotta trust that you’ll be alright, even if it feels like you won't ever be.”

It’s too much then, it's all too much and Hanbin feels the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. 

“I- I don’t want to be alright without him.”

The words are carried on a harsh sob that tears at the inside of his chest and throat and echoes hollow in the small park. He cries then, for the first time since he met Hayi in that coffee shop, cries for the first time since Jiwon opened that door. Cries for himself and for Jiwon and for broken hearts that never get the chance to mend. He cries in silent heaving gasps, body shaking like it’s trying to tear itself apart. Junhoe doesn’t say anything, just slides a little closer till Hanbin feels the pressure of Junhoe’s knee against his, the warmth where their shoulders touch. He leans into it, taking comfort in the quiet steadiness he finds there. Junhoe waits till his sobs slow and stop before saying,

“I’m sorry. I really truly am, for both of you.”

Hanbin nods, trying to scrub the feel of salt from his cheeks.

“I know.”

He says, voice scratchy from tears, but it doesn’t shake as much anymore. His phone buzzes then, and he slips it out of his pocket. It’s another text from Jiwon, Hey, you’re not answering your phone and I’m a little worried. Text me back okay? Hanbin looks over to Junhoe.

“Thank you, for this. It helped. I- I have someone I have to go see now.”

Junhoe shrugs, running a hand through his hair, and smiles a little. 

“Anytime.”

The bus ride to the restaurant Jiwon work’s at is only twenty minutes but it feels so much longer. Hanbin sits, headphones in and fingers tapping nervously against his leg. There’s a new feeling in his chest, not numbness anymore, but something bright and sharp and fiery and he feels it burning impatiently against his ribs. When the bus pulls up to his stop he nearly runs off, throwing a quick thank you over his shoulder to the driver. The whole walk to the restaurant he keeps a fast pace, not quite running but not quite walking either. The sound of his feet slapping against pavement echoes loud in his ears in time with the beating of his heart.

He finds Jiwon in the alley behind the restaurant. He’s leaning against the wall the collar of his shirt ed two buttons, smoking. Hanbin didn’t even know he smoked. He looks up at the sound of footsteps, pushing off the wall when he sees Hanbin at the mouth of the alley, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and surprise.

“Hanbin, what are you doing here?”

It takes four steps for Hanbin to close the distance between them, four steps before he’s pressing his mouth to Jiwon’s, pushing him hard against the rough brick behind him. There’s a second where Jiwon lips are still against his, but then he’s kissing him back, arm’s coming up to wrap around Hanbin’s waist and pull him closer. Jiwon smells like oil and kimchi and sweat, and his lips still taste of cigarette. Hanbin kisses him harder, teeth scraping against each other and he feels Jiwon’s fingers dig hard into his back.

When they finally pull away Hanbin looks at Jiwon. His bangs have fallen across his forehead in soft waves and he stares back through them, smiling crookedly.

“Man, you should visit me at work more often.”

He says, a little breathlessly, and Hanbin feels his heart ache at how much he loves this man.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t answering your messages. I was being an idiot. I-I don’t want to waste any of the time we have left together being afraid, or being sad. I just want to spend them with you.”

Jiwon’s smile weakens at that, and his eyes are a little sadder then they were a second ago but he just nods.

“Okay.”

He says softly, breath whispering against Hanbin’s ear.

“Okay.”

He pulls Hanbin in closer then, arms tight around his shoulders and Hanbin lets his head rest on Jiwon’s shoulder, feels the thump of Jiwon’s heart against his chest. They stand there, in the back alley of the restaruant where Jiwon's works in between bags of trash and empty beer botles and cigarette butts, just holding each other. And he’s not alright, not at all, but he thinks, someday, he might be.