I'm a little bit early but I actually finished it so I'm posting it! 

Happy Birthday, Kim Ryeowook!!! <33 

He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter as he grabbed a glass and filled it with water, a small sigh escaping his lips. It’d been a long, hard day at work, complete with yelling and misdirection, and he was just about ready to quit. He grabbed the small box he’d brought in with him (a gift from Zhou Mi, who had pushed it into his hands with a bright smile just as he was getting ready to leave) and went to the living room, settling down on the couch.

With another sigh, he tugged on one end of the ribbon bow, letting the silky green fabric slide through his fingers and to the table before he popped off the lid of the small brown box. The corners of his lips twitched upwards with the hint of a smile when he saw the pristine cupcake nestled there. Carefully, so as not to get icing all over his hands, he lifted the cupcake out of the box and held it up so that he could see it properly and was all of a sudden lost in a sea of memories.

---

They first met because of a cupcake. When he was three, Ryeowook and his parents moved into a new neighborhood, a bigger house. The house they were moving into was right next to his mother’s best friend’s house; Mrs. Kim had a son two years older than him, and his mom was certain that they would be good friends in no time. Ryeowook, who was shy even around his parents, wasn’t so sure.

A week or two after they’d moved into the house, when everything was finally put away and in order, there was a knock at the door and in came Mrs. Kim, a small figure trailing behind her. The two mothers greeted each other happily and Mrs. Kim held out a small box of cupcakes that she’d made herself; “A housewarming gift!” she chirped brightly, her eyes wandering down to the figure hidden behind her best friend’s legs.

Ryeowook peered up nervously at the box and the strange new lady and then at the child behind the strange new lady. When he noticed that Ryeowook was staring, the boy grinned and waved.

His name was Jongwoon, Ryeowook learned later. Their parents sat in the living room, talking over a cup of tea, but Jongwoon sat in the kitchen with Ryeowook, slowly picking apart a cupcake and feeding his new little friend the pieces.

---

Ryeowook quietly put the lid back on the box and stood, returning to his kitchen and placing it on the counter. He was happy that Zhou Mi had remembered his birthday (it didn’t seem like anyone else had, other than his parents) but he just couldn’t eat the cupcake, not now. Shaking the memories from the fringes of his mind, he returned to his spot on the couch, this time picking up the box on the coffee table and opening it. He nearly groaned at the gift he found inside; as his one and only birthday present, his mother had made him a scrapbook. With a fond smile, he ran his fingers over the cover before flipping it open, skipping past the baby pictures but freezing when he stumbled upon a picture of the two of them together.

---

“Ryeowook! Ryeowook, come on!” Eight year old Jongwoon slowed to a stop next to the big tree in his backyard, waiting for his chubby younger neighbor to catch up. Obediently, six year old Ryeowook moved his short legs as fast as he could, getting to the tree a moment later, panting heavily.

“You run too fast, hyung!” he pouted, sitting down on the ground with a thump.

Jongwoon rolled his eyes, sitting down next to his best friend. “I’m going to help you climb the tree today,” he stated, looking pleased with the idea. Ryeowook, though he didn’t like heights and was far clumsier than was recommended for tree climbing, nodded, always eager to please his hyung.

“Okay!”

And so the pair got started on their afternoon adventure, Jongwoon trying to hoist Ryeowook up and showing him all of the best footholds and limbs to grab on to. Ryeowook had successfully gotten onto one of the lower branches when he slipped, coming crashing back down to earth, too stunned to scream. He lay on the ground for a minute, blinking, before tears started welling up in his eyes as blood started to flow from the large gash that now decorated his left leg.

“Hyunggg!” he wailed, and Jongwoon frantically scrambled over to him, fretting and worrying and wondering what to do about all of that blood.

He’d ended up carrying Ryeowook back to the younger’s house. Ryeowook had to get stitches and Jongwoon never pushed him to try tree climbing again, but that day stuck out to Ryeowook for a different reason: it was the first time that he’d ever seen Jongwoon that worried.

---

Ryeowook ran his fingers over the picture neatly positioned in the middle of the page. The six year old version of himself was sitting on the ground, a tight bandage around his left leg. Jongwoon was bending down next to him, one hand caught in the process of ruffling the younger’s hair. Ryeowook found himself wondering when exactly things had started to change.

He flipped the page, desperate to get away from the memories of him, because the good memories could only lead to bad ones and he wanted to have a peaceful night.

The next pictures were of his middle school graduation, and then his high school graduation. He grimaced. Middle school hadn’t been particularly eventful, but high school hadn’t been fun. His mother had constantly worried about him because he talked more about school work and tests than friends and he’d taken to staying after school in the library for hours and telling his mom he’d spent the time with friends to ease her worries. He hadn’t been popular or unpopular, just kind of unnoticed, which he supposed was better than being picked on, but was lonely and sometimes not much better.

He sometimes thought that everything would have been better if he’d at least had Jongwoon, but they’d started growing apart in middle school and virtually didn’t even exchange glances in high school. Ryeowook was never quite sure why Jongwoon had seemingly stopped being his friend, and his own fear of asking was something he had always regretted.

After high school came the pictures of university; there were a ton from the day he moved in and then several copies of pictures he’d sent home over his four years there. He flipped through the pages slowly, his mind straying toward his college days as he let his eyes slide out of focus.

---

By some of luck (or extreme misfortune; Ryeowook never could quite tell), they’d ended up going to the same college. In the time that they were there together, however, Ryeowook never saw much of his hyung. Jongwoon, who was majoring in business, was always off in the business school working on projects or writing papers, while Ryeowook lived in the music building, content to doodle songs over his notes and run his fingers over piano keys. Then Jongwoon had graduated and Ryeowook, against his better judgment, had gone to the ceremony, watching the man who had once been his best friend walk across the stage and watching the same man be attacked by friends who weren’t him when everything was over. He’d left quietly before being noticed, just like always.

His next two years of university were full of music and school work. He had several piano recitals within that time, meant to show off both his skills as a pianist and as a composer (he never did notice the solitary figure who would stand in the back of the auditorium, watching his fingers fly over the keys and smiling along with the music before leaving as soon as the last note floated through the air). Even so, he was almost as much of a nobody in university as he was in high school; he was largely unknown, except for in the music school, where a couple of the underclassmen looked up to him and always asked him for help.

Finally, after four long years, he graduated himself, walking across that same stage and receiving a similar diploma and smiling that same smile that Jongwoon had two years earlier. He left the school with exactly three close friends: Zhou Mi, a fashion merchandising major who loved to sing and had one of the brightest smiles Ryeowook had ever seen; Kyuhyun, a computer programing major who was sometimes a little too snarky for his own good; and Donghae, a marine biology major with a childish streak that he could never quite shake.

As he waved goodbye that day and started on the next phase of his life, he couldn’t help but think back to his childhood friend and wish that he was there.

---

Ryeowook snapped the photobook shut before he got to the end and threw it on the coffee table, flopping down on the couch with a loud sigh and staring up at the ceiling.

For just a moment, he let himself indulge in thoughts of Jongwoon.

He missed Jongwoon, more than he would ever admit to his family or friends. He missed their friendship and he missed the shared cupcakes on his back porch and he missed the stupid songs they would make up as they played. He wondered for the millionth time why they had ever grown apart, what he had done to make Jongwoon want to stop being his friend, why he had never tried fix what had so obviously fallen and broken.

It was too late to do anything now. Jongwoon was a successful business man, being, along with his brother, the proud owner of an eyeglasses shop and a cafe that he was thinking about franchising. He was even thinking about expanding his business overseas and, with Jongwoon’s knack for business and his brother’s knack for languages, Ryeowook knew that they would be successful.

Ryeowook was a composer and a pianist. He mostly wrote songs for other artists, but had, over the years, managed to record several songs himself; he’d released them digitally, but knew that he would probably never release a physical album. After all, he was just a composer. Nothing special.

A knock on his door stirred him from his thoughts.

He groaned, dragging himself off of his couch and heading for his front door, half wishing that it was his friends coming to drag him out for a birthday celebration and half wishing that whoever it was would just leave him be. He ruffled his recently-dyed light brown hair and stretched, wrenching open the front door to his apartment.

There was a relatively tall figure standing outside of his door, one hand propped up on the doorframe as the man struggled to catch his breath. His black hair was messy and sticking out in several different directions all at once, but it was messy with an effortless sort of attractiveness that so many people wish they could have. Ryeowook hadn’t seen him in six years, but he automatically knew exactly who was standing at his door and all of the memories came flooding back like a tidal wave that threatened to overtake him and he felt his knees start to shake.

“Jongwoon.” His voice was barely more than a breath, so soft that Jongwoon would have missed it if he’d exhaled at the wrong moment, but he just smiled slightly instead.

“Hey, Ryeowook.”

Ryeowook didn’t move. He didn’t invite Jongwoon in. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask what the older man was doing at his home (or ask how he’d known where Ryeowook lived, when they hadn’t talked in years).

“I always wondered why we stopped talking. I can’t even remember - isn’t that stupid? It was probably something I said or did. I was an idiot as a kid. I mean, I still am, but I was worse then. By the time I realized what happened, I was too afraid to talk to you about it. I was scared you hated me, you know. But I can’t get you out of my head. Out of every single person I’ve ever met in my entire life, Kim Ryeowook,” Jongwoon said softly, straightening slightly, “I’ve never met anyone else that has ever made me so desperately want to...” He trailed off and what seemed like an eternity of silence floated between them. Years of drifting apart and broken promises and dashed childhood dreams slowly shrunk down to nothing as Jongwoon leaned forward,  one of his small hands coming up to lightly cup Ryeowook’s cheek.

---

Seven-year-old Jongwoon was arguing with five-year-old Ryeowook, who was rather convinced that everyone had cooties and didn’t want to touch anything. The younger just wouldn’t listen to reason and finally Jongwoon couldn’t take it anymore; to cut off his rambling, he leaned down, pressing his lips against Ryeowook’s quickly.

“See? I don’t have cooties!” Jongwoon said matter-o-factly.

Ryeowook stood still for a full minute, trying to figure out what had just happened. Then, all of a sudden, the corners of his lips twitched upwards and a smile that lit up the entire room spread across his chubby face, his eyes sparkling.

“Hyung doesn’t have cooties! I love hyung!” he chirped brightly, throwing his short arms around the older boy’s chest.

Jongwoon hugged his friend back tightly, mirroring Ryeowook’s smile.

“Hyung loves Ryeowook too!”

---

This kiss was longer than the first one they’d shared so many years ago. This one meant more. Their lips moved slowly together and Ryeowook let his eyes slip closed as he clutched at Jongwoon’s t-shirt. He could smell a vague hint of coffee and knew that Jongwoon had just been at his cafe and, for some reason, that smell made the situation more real to him than the feel of his hyung’s chest under his fingers. They slowly stumbled backwards, Jongwoon kicking the door shut before pressing Ryeowook against the wall, his hands dancing slowly up the younger’s sides, but Ryeowook pushed him back gently.

“W-why...?” he whispered, one hand still clinging to his hyung’s t-shirt, refusing to let go.

“I think I’ve always loved you. I tried to run away from my old life, but everything I encountered led me straight back to you.” Jongwoon’s lips pressed against the skin of Ryeowook’s forehead. “Always right back to you.”

---

Later that night, after explanations and catching up and kisses and more, Ryeowook curled up next to Jongwoon on his bed, letting the older man wrap an arm around him and pull him close.

“Happy Birthday, Kim Ryeowook,” Jongwoon murmured after a few quiet minutes, and Ryeowook smiled.

“I was having a pretty lousy birthday until you showed up. I was getting overrun with work and memories.” Ryeowook felt his eyes start to droop as Jongwoon ran a hand up and down his back rhythmically. “I never thought you’d come back, after all this time.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to come back, after all this time,” Jongwoon sighed softly, then they both fell silent, letting the years melt away until they were back in that same comfortable place they had been when they were younger: best friends, but, this time, something more as well.

“I love hyung,” Ryeowook whispered, resting his head on Jongwoon’s chest, hesitantly repeating the line he’d said twenty years ago, on the verge of sleep.

A smile blossomed over Jongwoon’s face.

“Hyung loves Ryeowook too.”