A/N: I usually put flashbacks in italics...but since this is essentially one angst-filled flashback...well...

OTL I'm sorry. 

Jisoo hummed softly to himself, his movements utterly relaxed, unhurried as he moved from one side of his room to the other, collecting all the things he needed to pack for his trip. Jeonghan watched him lazily from his bed, the extent of his help pointing out all the things Jisoo missed and questioning (loudly) all his fashion choices - which was met with an exasperated, if somewhat amused look from his boyfriend.

“I thought you were here to help me pack.” Jisoo pointed out dryly, sitting on the edge of his bed and tugging at the other boy’s bare ankle, beneath the cuff of his jeans. “C’mon, I need someone to help fold my sweaters.” He spoke cajolingly.

“Wow, such an enticing offer.” Jeonghan spoke dryly, watching Jisoo through half-lidded eyes. “And as fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I’m having a love affair with your bed at the moment.” He spoke teasingly, wrapping his arms around one of Jisoo’s criminally fluffy pillows. “So I’d rather you go about your business and leave us alone for a while.” He ended his statement with a wink.

“Flirt.” Jisoo said amusedly, his lips quirking at the corners, but he made little fuss and went back to the task at hand. Unconsciously, he began humming the song he was just singing - one of the newest ones Jihoon had been working on - and he couldn’t help but throw a grin over his shoulder when he heard Jeonghan join him, his voice soft but confident.

“Jihoon writes the best songs, but don’t tell him I said that.” Jeonghan spoke when the pair finished (with an added trill at the end that made them both share a smile) leaning up onto one elbow to fully enjoy the sight of his boyfriend bending forward to place his newly folded clothes into his suitcase.

“Hey, Jisoo~” He called out, drawing out the other boy’s name in a light, sing song manner, though his next words were anything but. “How long are you going to stay over there again?” He tried for casual, Jisoo could tell he did, but they’d been together too long for him not to recognise the nuances in his boyfriend’s voice.

Jisoo’s hands stilled, and he sat back on his heels to glance back at Jeonghan. 

“It’s only going to be two months, Hannie.” He said gently, using the nickname Jeonghan hated but Jisoo secretly loved. “Plus, it’s summer so you’ll be so busy having fun with everyone else you won’t even notice I’m gone.” He spoke teasingly, earning a glare from the blonde-haired boy.

“I’m being serious here Jisoo, but it seems you don’t feel the same way, so why should I bother?” Jeonghan huffed and fell back onto the pillows, mouth folding into a petulant line, and Jisoo had to press a hand to his lips to stifle his laughter.

He’d always had a soft spot for sulky Jeonghan.

“Hey, hey, c’mon. It should go without saying that I’d miss you. I just said all that to make you feel better.” Jisoo stood and walked over, crawling onto the bed next to his boyfriend. At his approach, Jeonghan rolled over and turned his back on him, though he made sure to throw a pout in his direction before he did.

Jisoo bit back a grin, before lying on his side and wrapping his arm around the blonde’s waist, burying his face into the curve of his exposed nape, breathing softly.

Jeonghan suppressed a shiver.

“It’ll be over before you know it, Hannie.” Jisoo whispered softly. A promise.

“It’ll be over before you know it.”

Daily video calls at ungodly hours had become their thing, much to the annoyance of all their friends.

“Yah, everyone shut up Jisoo’s calling!” Jeonghan snapped, sending a glare in their general direction, before pulling his laptop towards him and pressing the ‘answer call’ button eagerly, just as Jisoo taught him.

“Good evening, angel-” Jeonghan bit back a grin, listening to their friends’ collective groans from behind him. “-and good evening to all of you too!” Jisoo called out, mirroring the blonde’s smile, and though his face was slightly grainy the mere sight of it was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart settle.

“How’s L.A., Jisoo?” Seungcheol ambled up to the table, leaning over Jeonghan’s shoulder and peering at the screen. “Did you already find someone to replace this guy over here?” He and Jisoo shared a laugh when Jeonghan turned to Seungcheol in a huff, slapping his arm for good measure.

“L.A.’s fine, and of course I didn’t find anyone - no one can replace Jeonghannie.” Jisoo spoke easily, a statement that was met with another set of groans and a muttered ‘disgusting’ from one Lee Jihoon.

“Thank you for being supportive of our love, and I hope you all are taking care of yourselves over there!” Though Jisoo addressed the entire group, he was looking at Jeonghan as he said this, and the blonde wanted nothing more than press his fingers against the screen and actually feel his boyfriend’s cheek against his hand.

“I hope you remember my shopping list while you’re over there.” Jeonghan spoke lightly, past the growing lump in his throat. “And that doesn’t mean you’re exempt from buying me a gift of your own.” His tone was teasing however, and he watched Jisoo’s lips curve up at the corners, eyes twinkling.

(yes, even if it was through a computer screen, he swore to the heavens above that his boyfriend’s eyes twinkled.)

“Yes, yes.” Jisoo spoke amused. “How could I forget with all your constant reminders every second of every day?” Then he tilted his head and smiled and still after all these years Jeonghan felt something in his heart flutter.

The rest of their conversation consisted of summarized accounts of their own days (with random interruptions from the other boys who had their own experiences to share), interspersed with soft declarations of ‘I miss you’, ‘I miss you too’, and ’I miss you more’ that had their friends collapsing dramatically from their gag-inducing cheesiness.

“Alright, alright. I think we’ve had enough of you two.” Seungcheol said dryly, walking up and patting Jeonghan on the shoulder. “For the record Jisoo,” He continued, leaning towards the screen as he addressed the brunette. “Jeonghan misses you, in case that wasn’t clear enough.”

This time, Jeonghan flicked Seungcheol at the temple and Jisoo stifled his laughter behind his hand.

Their next call happened three days later, odd for the couple’s standards, but Jeonghan put it down to Jisoo being busy with family events.

“Good morning…Rather, good evening Jisoo-ah.” Jeonghan sang as he slid his laptop closer to him, grinning happily at the sight of the other boy on the screen. “Well, someone looks like he had an extremely busy day. Are you tired, sweetheart?” His tone was laced with affection and a hint of concern, as he took note of the shadows under the brunette’s eyes, how his expression was drawn in tight, strained lines.

Jisoo rubbed self-consciously at his face. “Is it that obvious?” He asked with a light laugh, but Jeonghan’s brow furrowed when it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m afraid today-” Jisoo’s face clouded for a moment so brief Jeonghan thought he imagined it. “-was eventful, to say the least.” The brunette spoke with a wry tone to his voice.

“Would it make you feel better to talk about it?” Jeonghan prompted gently, trying to not let his own worry show. “I’d offer something else to cheer you up, but sadly there’s only so much we can do with a video camera.” The blonde waggled his eyebrows suggestively and exactly as he predicted, Jisoo burst into silent laughter, his hand going up to cover his mouth.

“No, no I don’t want to trouble you.” Jisoo shook his head, grin fading, his hand falling limply to his side. “It’s nothing, really.” He added, clearly seeing Jeonghan’s doubtful look. “It’s just…family stuff.” He continued, tone vague and Jeonghan didn’t know whether to feel more alarmed or just let the issue slide (at least for now.)

“Well then I hope everyone in your family is ok.” Jeonghan’s voice was soft, soothing but instead of making things better as he thought it would, there was something in Jisoo’s face, in his eyes that shattered-

-and yet it lasted for only a heartbeat, for when Jeonghan leaned forward, palms pressed against the table, Jisoo’s expression was calm once more, if still a bit exhausted.

“They’re fine.” A paltry (perhaps even curt) summation, and despite his misgivings Jeonghan chose not to press - Jisoo was tired enough as it is. “I guess I should elaborate, but I’d much rather hear about your day, Hannie.” Jisoo’s tone was laced with affection, and when he looked at Jeonghan that way - his gaze soft but focused, and head tilted ever so slightly…

…There was little the blonde could deny him.

“I got into an argument with my parents.”

Jeonghan looked up in surprise, taken aback by the abruptness of Jisoo’s statement. The other boy had averted his gaze as soon as he said it, his teeth gnawing endlessly at his lip, his fingers running agitatedly through his hair. From those actions alone, Jeonghan already knew he had to tread carefully, lest Jisoo shut down completely and decide to brush it all aside.

He was after all intimately familiar with how his boyfriend preferred to bottle such negative feelings up.

“What about, Jisoo?” Jeonghan prompted gently, shifting in his seat so he faced the screen fully. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Me.” Jisoo’s answer was uncharacteristically short, clipped. “My major. Living in Seoul.” He shrugged as if it was nothing, but the movement was jerking, and Jeonghan wanted nothing more than to soothe the tense lines of the other boy’s face with his hands.

“I know they never really approved but-” Jisoo was clearly struggling with his words, his eyes somewhat hooded. “-but I thought they’d already began to see me as an individual capable of making his own choices.”

“I’m sure they do, Jisoo.” Jeonghan softened his tone even more, still uncertain on how to approach the situation. “If you explain it to them…”

“I have, so many times-” Jisoo interrupted him, his tone uncharacteristically sharp. “-but it’s like talking to a brick wall, Jeonghan. They’re too ing set in their ways.” Jeonghan felt his widen slightly, so unused to hearing a curse fall from his boyfriend’s lips. “They think they can run my life, dictate what I can do, who I can be, who I can lo-”

Jisoo stopped abruptly, and Jeonghan felt his chest constrict when his imagination tried to fill in the next part of his statement.

“Jisoo-” Jeonghan began, heart in his mouth. “-what else did you talk about with them?”

You. That word, the truth laid between them, heavy and unsaid, and Jeonghan didn’t know what Jisoo saw in his eyes - the few seconds their gazes clashed seemingly endless - but the brunette’s voice became far more subdued as he spoke again.

“Nothing Jeonghan. There was nothing else.”

Lies. 

Some part of Jeonghan wanted to push, to shatter the flimsy illusion Jisoo tried to put up (he knew, achingly, that it was his boyfriend’s misguided attempt to protect his feelings), but any sort of bravery that he had in his heart shrivelled up at the thought of hearing those words, words echoed on others’ tongues so many times before, leave Jisoo’s lips-

Uneven. Mismatched. Undeserving. 

-so Jeonghan found himself merely nodding quietly in reply.

“Alright, Jisoo.” He spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

“I believe you.”

Jeonghan was the one who called him first the next time, his fingers shaking as he pressed the keys, trying his hardest to stifle the sobs that caught painfully in his throat.

“Jisoo.” Jeonghan spoke his name in a hoarse whisper, eyes glassy, the unspoken wish for the other boy’s presence written on his every feature. “Jisoo-ah.”

“Hannie.” The panic was clear in Jisoo’s expression and Jeonghan watched as he reached out with his hand, helplessly, his fingers pressing against the screen. “Hannie, what happened? Are you alright?” He asked urgently.

“God, this is so stupid.” Now that he saw him, heard his voice, Jeonghan felt ashamed of his panic, of his inability to deal with things on his own. “It’s just…I just…” His throat hitched and he watched as Jisoo’s fingers clenched themselves into fists, and he knew the other boy dug hard enough to leave marks on his palms.

“Tell me, Jeonghan.” His tone was soft, but the command in them was clear. Jeonghan knew he was on the edge of his sanity already when that made him laugh, abruptly, before he once again he dissolved into a snivelling mess. “Jeonghan.” Jisoo’s voice was even more emphatic. 

(he did not know when that started to happen, that whenever Jisoo said his name it felt a little like coming home.)

“I failed my class. Again, Jisoo.” Jeonghan mumbled, burying his face in hands, unable to bear the look on the other boy’s face. There were a pregnant pause, and the blonde felt his shoulders tense from Jisoo’s silence. His unbearable, unbearable silence. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He tried to fill in the dead air, and that seemed to snap the other boy back to present time, if his fierce reply were any indication.

“You don’t have to say sorry to me Jeonghan. Not for that.” He heard Jisoo let out a frustrated sigh, and he felt somewhat brave enough to peek through his fingers, looking at his boyfriend quietly. “It’s terrible, I know, and I wish I could be there with you right now to…to…” Jisoo shook his head as he struggled with his words, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but let out a watery chuckle. 

“To kiss me and make me feel better?” He asked lightly, though his voice still trembled at the end. Jisoo snorted at that, rolling his eyes in reply but the affection in them was evident and when he pressed his fingers to the screen once more Jeonghan gave into impulse and leaned forward to press his lips against them.

“Come home soon, Jisoo-ah.” They’d tiptoed around that statement for days, but Jeonghan felt too vulnerable now to hide his feelings. “Come home safely.”

“I will, Jeonghan.” His gaze was soft as he said this. “I’ll see you soon.” 

The moment they ended the conversation, Jeonghan’s feelings of helplessness seemed to overwhelm him again as he stared blankly at the dark screen. He had the foolish impulse to call to Jisoo again, just to hear his voice, and in that desire he couldn’t help but feel shame for his over-reliance on one person.

He was stronger than this. Or he tried to be. 

Still, the face of his professor continued to play in his head - the disappointment that he couldn’t help but show in his expression as he handed Jeonghan his paper. His urge to crumple it in his fist then was so strong, but at the same time he was too frozen to even move.

He tried his damn hardest. Or he thought he did.

It was better when Jisoo was here. The thought came suddenly, and with a touch of resentment that shocked him to the core. But then again, he would have pushed Jeonghan to study more, tutored him even though their courses were in different fields. Jisoo had a way of grasping concepts easily that Jeonghan couldn’t even begin to fathom, but usually he didn’t mind when the other boy explained them all to him with such damn, never-ending patience. 

Jeonghan lifted his knees up to his chest and curled into himself, giving in for a moment and wallowing in his own self-pity. He hated when he became like this, so caught up in his thoughts and in his problems that it felt a little bit like drowning.

In a way, Jisoo had become his lifeline over the years - the other boy had learned how and when to tug Jeonghan back when he wandered in too far and too deep. But now with him so far away, his sanity felt like a fraying rope teethed to a post poised to break.

Jeonghan gnawed at his lip, rubbing at the bare skin of his arms, his toes curling at the edge of his seat.

, he needed to get out of here.

One phone call later, Jeonghan had convinced Seungcheol, Junhui, and Mingyu to meet up with him, and half-way down the hall he wondered if alcohol could truly chase away the bitter taste on his tongue.

Jeonghan heard a voice against his ear, though his head felt too heavy for him to lift at that moment to acknowledge it. Everything felt too damn heavy.

“Jeong-jeonghan. Are-are yo-you the-re?”

Choppy signal, the blonde registered blearily, though his eyelids refused to open for him to see where the call was coming from. He contemplated for a moment if he should make some attempt at answering, but the sharp throb in his temples negated that idea quickly. Besides, he was quite certain the person would give up eventually when Jeonghan failed to respond…

“I ca-n see-see yo-you, Jeonghan-han!” The boy groaned, the sound tearing painfully from his sore throat. He just wanted to rest, dammit! Why couldn’t this person leave him alone?

“Go away.” Jeonghan muttered, his voice slightly raspy. “It hurts to move.”

To breathe. To think, even. 

“Are-e you hu-hungover?” Disbelief was clear in the other person’s tone, and Jeonghan, his nerves already shot by the events of the previous day, replied back snarkily though his words slurred at the end. 

“So what if I am, huh?  you.”

There was a moment of blessed silence, and Jeonghan thanked the heavens that the other person had finally given up. Then he registered, though barely, a murmur of voices, low and indecipherable, but slowly growing louder in intensity.

“Is that-at him, Ji-soo-o?”

“You do-don’t understan-stand, eomma-a.”

“Yah! I can’t be-believe this! It-it’s you who doesn’t understa-”

“Jisoo?” Jeonghan murmured, the name triggering a flood of awareness. “Jisoo!” He called out, much louder, his voice caught between excitement and desperation, longing a true ache in his throat…

…and the piercing sound of the call ending was his only answer.

It had been one week.

One week of staring at his screen of his computer, agonizing over what he should do, what he could do to fix the mess of the situation. One week of sleepless nights, as he tossed and turned in his bed, his mind mocking him with endless, endless replays of what had happened. One week of missing Jisoo so much it hurt like a physical wound, but at the same time fearing the moment when they’d finally talk.

Jeonghan twisted the ends of his ponytail, his eyes flickering to Jisoo’s contact name once more and the small arrow poised above it. Some part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, how he used to complain that all their conversations lately were too short, too damn short, and now even the thought of calling Jisoo up seemed to turn over his already queasy stomach.

You can do this, Yoon Jeonghan. Still, his hands remained fisted in the soft fabric of his pants. Come on, you need to do this. He couldn’t believe how much effort it took, his pulse hammering in throat, when he reached out to lightly tap the key on his laptop.

Jisoo’s picture, a shot Jeonghan took of him with his phone when he wasn’t looking - one where he was curled up in the corner of his couch, his expression adorably soft as he reread one of his favorite books - magnified on the screen.

Calling Hong Jisoo. Calling Hong Jisoo.

Jeonghan’s eyes traced each letter as it flashed on screen, before he looked at Jisoo’s picture once more - the perfect (at least in his opinion) slope of his nose, the shallow flick of his pink upper lip, the round jut of his chin…

He didn’t know how long his gaze remained fixated onto the screen, the only sound echoing in the apartment his soft breathing and the endless ringing of his laptop. And though he told himself it was best to speak with Jisoo now, to get things over with, he couldn’t help the relief spreading through his limbs as still no one answered, concluding that Jisoo wasn’t probably online right now…

…then the telltale click, and a face drawn in too familiar lines appeared in his vision.

“Jeonghan.”

Just his name. He just said his name, but his inflection carried a wealth of meaning one could only discern from being with someone for so, so long. Jeonghan felt his insides shrivel, at the purposely neutral look his boyfriend gave him, all his words (not that he had many in the first place) dying on his tongue. 

“Jisoo.” His voice was so pitifully small.

“I’m sorry.”

A sharp, frustrated exhale met his words.

“Jisoo.” Jeonghan’s nails dug into his palms. “What happened?” His throat bobbed. “After?”

Never had Jeonghan seen Jisoo’s expression freeze over so quickly, never had he seen Jisoo’s eyes become so hard.

“Why, Jeonghan? Of all days.” He asked instead of answered, raking his fingers through his hair, the frustration on his face clear. “I mean, I know you didn’t do it on purpose but to think that was the first thing she ever saw of you-” Jeonghan felt himself shrink down into his seat at the perceived censure in his tone, tucking his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. 

“I’m not blaming you, Jeonghan, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The abruptness of this statement made Jeonghan’s eyes flicker upwards with a start. Jisoo must have read his body language, the self-incrimination written in every curve of his posture. “It’s not your fault, it’s just that-” Jisoo let out a loud breath from between pursed lips. “-it was such bad, bad timing.” 

Jisoo slumped forward, as if those words were the only thing holding him up, and it was instinctive for Jeonghan to learn towards him, his arms reaching out only to realize at the last second he couldn’t be there to grasp his shoulders, to steady him as he had many times before. 

Jisoo was quiet for a long time, so long that Jeonghan wondered if something when wrong with his connection - and then, in a voice so soft it couldn’t have echoed throughout his apartment, resonated in his ears (and yet to him it did), Jisoo spoke.

“I want to go home, Jeonghan.” There was an uncharacteristic cry to his tone that Jeonghan couldn’t even begin to comprehend, a desperation that stirred painful doubts in the blonde’s heart. “I want to go home. I want to see you.” Jisoo’s voice caught. 

The effort it took for Jeonghan to remain calm, to not let his own feelings take ahold and overwhelm him, was evident in the deep marks his nails scored on the soft palms of his hand.

“Two more weeks to go, right Jisoo?” Jeonghan tried for lightheartedness, speaking past the lump in his throat. “I’ll see you in two weeks, right?” 

Jisoo’s answering was too slow in coming, or at least to his frantic mind it was.

“Jisoo?” Jeonghan’s voice cracked. 

He no longer cared that it did.

“Of course, Jeonghan.” Jisoo finally spoke, eyes crinkling in the corners as he summoned up a smile. “I’ll see you soon.” His voice was gentle. So ing gentle. 

And if it were even possible, the seemingly baseless fear in Jeonghan’s heart multiplied tenfold. 

Jeonghan had just come home after a study session with Seungcheol - how Jisoo managed to arrange such a thing with him still overseas made Jeonghan roll his eyes, though it was in exasperated affection.

Humming to himself as he closed the front door behind him, Jeonghan didn’t have to check his watch to know it was still too early to call Jisoo. While usually he’d be filled with needy impatience, for the first time in days he felt calm enough to wait for the appropriate time.

Strangely calm, he thought absentmindedly, given the events of the past few days.

Jeonghan’s humming progressed to soft singing as he slipped off his shoes and padded barefoot to his small dining table, where his laptop still lay open. He slid his bag off his shoulder, massaging the area where the thick strap dug into, before he plopped gratefully onto the seat, a tired sigh escaping his lips.  

Jeonghan's hands moved instinctively to open his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys as he typed in his password, his eyes slowly adjusting as the screen brightened in front of him. 

A message notification, he registered. Just one. Jeonghan didn’t think as he clicked on it. 

I don’t know how to say this, Jeonghan. 

The blonde’s brow furrowed in confusion as he read the first line.  

I can’t believe I’m even doing this.

Jeonghan felt his spine stiffen, his eyes scanning the text on the screen. 

Please know you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.

His pulse beat like an erratic thing in his chest. His lips parted though he feared he’d never be able to speak a word.

Please don’t think, never think this was easy for me to do. How could it be? 

Jeonghan wanted to slam the laptop shut, to stop reading, but his body didn’t cooperate as his fingers continued to scroll down.

Down. Down. Down.

They didn’t give me a choice. 

Excuses, he wanted to scream, but his throat felt too dry, too raw.

There was truly nothing I could do. 

Lies, his heart ached and his hands fisted and he wondered if he could do it hard enough to leave a permanent mark.

I love you.

Jeonghan didn’t know a heart could break with three words.

I’m sorry.  

He didn’t know how irreparable it could become with two.