That night Jinhwan makes Hanbin dinner, he tries to help but Jinhwan just brushes him aside indignantly, “what kind of host would I be if I let my guest make dinner their first day back!” Hanbin smiles and eventually gives up, Jinhwan can be so damn stubborn about some things. So instead he wanders around the apartment idly flipping through books and photo albums, he’s looking at the pictures Jinhwan has pinned to a corkboard hanging in his living room when one in particular catches his eye. It’s Jinhwan, smiling wider then he’s ever seen him before, hand linked with that of a handsome man. Hanbin raises his eyebrows and turns towards the kitchen

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend!”

Jinhwan appears, wooden spoon in hand and a sheepish look on his face. He scratches his head and looks at the floor

“Oh, well, it just didn’t seem that important.”

Hanbin raises an eyebrow, and looks back at the picture.

“So when did this happen?”

It turns out Jinwhan met Yunhyeong a few weeks after Hanbin had left, he was a barista at a coffee shop and Jinhwan was the customer who couldn’t stop coming back.

“He asked me out by writing it on my coffee cup, he’s such a sweetheart. I’m really lucky to have him.”

Hanbin smiles at the dreamy look in his friends eyes, and ignores the ache when a little voices whispers that Jiwon used to look that way at Hanbin. He brushes it aside because Jinhwan is one of his best friends, and he should be happy he’s happy, not jealous. The sound of a pot boiling over from the kitchen snaps Jinhwan out of his reverie and he dashes off with a muttered curse.

Later they sit and eat, a comfortable silence settling between them. Hanbin almost forgot what real kimchi (not the stuff that comes out of a jar) tasted like and he savors the homecooked taste of Jinhwan’s samgyeopsal and japchae. There’s a bottle of soju sitting on the table, now mostly empty, and Hanbin feels warm and comfortable, belly full and tongue comfortably heavy with alcohol. The small kitchen is bright and cozy, and the walls draw in a way that makes Hanbin feel at home. After they finish eating Jinhwan gets up to start clearing dishes but Hanbin waves him back,

“You’ve already cooked an amazing meal, let me clean up.”

He can see Jinhwan open his mouth to protest and quickly shushes him, grabbing their plates and heading for the kitchen. He doesn’t mind doing the dishes (he did plenty in the US by himself) quickly settling into the familiar routine of wash, rinse, dry. Jinwhan moves around in the other room, turning on music and putting sheets on a little fold out bed for Hanbin. It’s nice, to be with another person. The quiet silence of being alone together is comforting and familiar. It’s not that Hanbin didn’t make friends during his year over seas, he made plenty, but there’s a difference between being with friends and living with someone. Having someone always on the edge of your vision, brushing the periphery of your senses, out of sight but close enough to call. He remembers when it felt like that with Jiwon, when he felt his presence even when he was gone in the jacket thrown across Jiwon’s favorite overstuffed armchair, in his cd’s stacked to tipping all around their little apartment, in the smell of his cologne lingering in the air. In the their last months together before Hanbin had gone to the states it had felt different, colder and emptier. Even when Jiwon was there he felt like he was always a little bit somewhere else.

Before he knows it their dishes are washed and stacked in the little drying rack on the counter and Hanbin dries his hands on a tea towel before joining Jinhwan in the living room. They settle into Jinhwan’s couch and pour the last of the soju. The soft rhythm’s of some R&B ballad play in the background and the singers gentle crooning combined with the alcohol lull him into a gentle trance. Hanbin sips his drink and lets his head sink back into the couches, savoring the feeling of finally being home. They sit like that for a while, quiet except for the music in the background. When Jinhwan finally speaks his voice is soft and unsure, breaking the silence.

“I should tell you what happened with Jiwon.”

He sounds like he did earlier talking about, sad and hesitant. It makes Hanbin’s stomach twist uncomfortably and he sits up, setting down his glass. Laughing nervously he says,

“You’re really making me that worry with all this, don’t tell me he went and tried to join some entertainment company?”

Jinhwan doesn’t laugh though, just looks at his hands, at the wall, anywhere but Hanbin. And now Hanbin’s past concern and bordering on fear, the Samyeopsol churns in his belly and he feels sick. Jinhwan’s face when he asked about Jiwon earlier in the car flashes through his mind.

“Jinwhan, please tell me. You’re really scaring me now.”

 Jinwhan sighs, and finally looks at Hanbin and his eyes are sad when he does.

“Please just… just promise me you won’t blame yourself for any of this? Jiwon made his own decisions.”

Hanbin’s heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest and suddenly the warmth of the room feels suffocating instead of cozy.

“Jesus Jinwhan I promise just tell me what he did, what happened.”

Images of Jiwon, hurt, suicidal, drinking himself slowly to death in dimly lit bars whirl through Hanbin’s mind like a series of bad dreams and he stares at Jinhwan, expectant.

“Jiwon, well like I said he didn’t take you leaving very well. He was so upset for so long… everybody tried to help him but he just… withdrew from all of us. Wouldn’t respond to texts, stopped showing up to dinners or to go out. Eventually, Junhoe went over to your-

Jinhwan pauses here, tongue tripping over the unfamiliar phrase and Hanbin tries to ignore the stab of pain in his chest.

“his… apartment to confront him. Found him high on prescription drugs he’d bought god knows where and more stashed in the medicine cabinet. We tried to talk to him, get him help but he just pushed us out even more. We can barely get him to speak to us anymore.”

For a moment Hanbin just sits, frozen and shocked. The feeling starts somewhere in his stomach, icy and biting it spreads down his legs and up his back and neck till all he feels is numb. He doesn’t reply, can’t, because of all the things he expected to hear this isn’t one of them. This was never one of them. So many emotions flip through his head like an ipod on shuffle, fear, confusion, shock, concern, but eventually he settles on rage, and it burns the ice away and suddenly everything feels sharp and clear. Jinhwan looks concerned, hand hovering above the couch cushions like he wants to reach out and touch Hanbin.

“Hey, I just… don’t feel like this is your fault Hanbin.”

Hanbin stands suddenly, feeling like he has to move.

“That .”

The words come out bitter and loud and angry (and he doesn’t feel like any of this was his fault) and Jinwhan looks a little shocked. He’s pacing now, prowling through Jinwhan’s furniture like a wild animal.

“How could he do this? To himself, and to all of us Jesus Christ he always thinks of himself first doesn’t he.”

Jinwhan looks at his hands

“Look, I get that you’re mad Hanbin it’s totally understandable and Jiwon has made some bad choices but just try to remember addiction isn’t a choice. He really needs help.”

Hanbin just shakes his head, and some small part of him knows that Jinwhan is right but the anger drowns that out (and he’s angry at Jiwon not himself, because what did he do but leave?)

“But he decided that drugs was a good way to handle his problems. Don’t you see, he always just takes the easy way out. Always. How could he be so stupid?!”

Jinhwan just stares at him with wide sad eyes and says nothing. Hanbin feels this energy building up inside of him, frantic and hot and urgent. He paces, fists clenching and unclenching and he feels like punching something and he doesn’t feel guilty, that’s not what this is, not guilt not shame because all he did was make the right choice for himself for once. He doesn’t think about how the taste in the back of his mouth is bitter and bright and filled with regret.

Jinhwan lets him stew for a little bit before he speaks again,

“Maybe you should go and talk to him.”

Hanbin whirls

“No, I’m done with him okay. I don’t want to go see him.”

Jinhwan sighs

“I’m not saying you should get back together or anything, but I think you need some sort of closure or at least an ending with him. Just letting things linger and die like this can’t be healthy”

Hanbin shakes his head

“No. No, I can’t go see him. Especially not after this. I’m just… I’m tired Jinhwan. Tired of trying to make him happy, tired of always putting myself second. If Jiwon really wanted to try, he had a whole year to reach out to me and he didn’t. He’s obviously made his choice and I’ve made mine.”

Jinhwan sighs again and rubs at his temple.

“Okay. Okay. But please, for me, just think about talking to him okay?”

And Hanbin loves Jinhwan and wants him to be happy so he nods his head and sits back down on the couch and Jinwhan smiles a little, but inside he’s already made up his mind.

 Later that night Hanbin lies on his little cot-bed and watches moonlight filter through gaps in Jinhwan’s corn flower blue curtains. The light casts everything into high contrast, the pale furniture turning the color of bleached bone. The air is thick and heavy, the curtains lie still against the window frame and Hanbin feels like has time has frozen. If it weren’t for the soft ticking of the second hand on the clock hanging on the wall Hanbin could almost imagine that this was a freeze frame of a moment, like he’s the only thing still moving while the rest of the world slows and stills. Lying there Hanbin feels lonely in a way he hasn’t in a long time, even with Jinhwan sleeping in the next room.