Taekwoon was having a field day, or so Wonshik suspected.

“This article seems to believe the two of you have been keeping your relationship a secret this whole time,” Taekwoon hummed, never once looking up from his phone, the screen’s light painting his face in a pale blue. “Hilarious. Someone even commented, ‘I knew they never actually broke up! This is SE’s doing, a ploy to gain media coverage. I always thought their fights were fake.’”

Wonshik rolled his eyes. “Of course. Fake.”

He had known from the moment he suggested taking Jaehwan home that it wouldn’t go unnoticed and that the Internet would write about it for the rest of the week, theorising and speculating the nature behind his actions. There were even a couple of fussy pictures of him and Jaehwan in the car.

“Huh,” Taekwoon continued, scrolling a bit further. “Someone here thinks you’re both straight, and your relationship has been a lie. Their argument is that you’ve both been seen with women. Supposedly dates.”

“Yeah. Straight as a cooked noodle.” Wonshik nodded sagely. “It’s called being bi, sweetheart. And in my case, it’s called having friends of the opposite .”

“You still haven’t told me why.”

“Why I have friends of the opposite ?” Wonshik was being difficult on purpose. Taekwoon had burst into his studio earlier, unannounced, and had proceeded to read up from some of the most ludicrous articles and fan accounts that had cropped up since last night. It was only fair that Wonshik made this harder for him when he insisted on interrupting.

Taekwoon glanced up momentarily from his phone to deign Wonshik with a rather unimpressed look. “Don’t be impudent, you brat. You know what I meant.”

Wonshik sighed, arms unfolding as he gave a shrug. “Jaehwan was sick, and I helped him. Big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Wonshik,” Taekwoon insisted, locking his phone and putting it on the desk to regard Wonshik contemplatively. “I am not looking to judge you for your actions, and you know that. In fact, I am rather pleased that you chose to disregard the sore state of your relationship to get Jaehwan home safely. Hakyeon even texted me –” he pointedly ignored Wonshik snarky remark about his and Hakyeon’s relationship, “– to tell you thanks, again, for caring.”

He leaned forward in his seat, settling his chin on his palms and blinking slowly up at Wonshik. “But why did you do it?”

“We’ve been friends for years, hyung, and I like to think you know me –”

“Yet you’re not telling me everything.” Taekwoon’s brows were drawn. “I know I’m your closest friend, and I know you’re a very private person. You aren’t one to share anything with a stranger on the street, and you’re hesitant with your emotions even around familiar faces. Sometimes, it seems, even around me.”

When Wonshik remained quiet, gaze locked on some point past Taekwoon’s shoulder, he continued in a softer voice, “I won’t push you to tell me anything. That’s not what I want. But I can tell something’s bothering you, or at least that there’s something on your mind, and I just want you to know that I’m here. I’m here if you need me.”

Wonshik wet his lips, meeting Taekwoon’s sincere eyes hesitantly. “Is it stupid?”

Taekwoon arched one eyebrow. “Is what stupid?”

“That I still care.” Wonshik swallowed, gaze lowering to his feet. “About Jaehwan. Part of me… at least, still cares. I couldn’t just leave yesterday without doing something. I know how hard he works himself, pushing and pushing until his body all but shuts down.”

Taekwoon hummed. “What a match, huh.” He straightened in his seat, levelling Wonshik with an appraising look. “For what it’s worth, I always figured you did. Care, I mean. And it does you no good to keep raising your hackles around him, which I’ve been trying to make you realise. It’s only going to hurt both you and him, in the end. It already does.”

“I know,” Wonshik breathed, tiredly leaning his hip against the desk; he should really get another chair than just the one that Taekwoon was currently occupying. “It’s just…”

“It is difficult, I know, but it serves no purpose to stay rooted in the past,” Taekwoon said. “Don’t let memories hold you back.”

Wonshik’s head dropped back against the wall, and he closed his eyes for a bit, just breathing. Taekwoon didn’t continue; he had always been particularly aware of Wonshik’s moods, and knowing when to sit back and just let him think.

Perhaps… Wonshik should learn to let go. He knew it would be no easy thing to do, but it had already been so long. The embers in his heart wouldn’t be doused with just water, no matter the amount, and steering clear of Jaehwan would be a tremendous effort, for though they fought when their ways crossed, it was still a way of getting close to Jaehwan. Insults and anger was only an attempt at having the slightest semblance of a conversation.

He wondered if he were really ready to move on.

-

When Wonshik ran into Jaehwan nearly a month later – it was amazing sometimes how long you could avoid one another when in the same entertainment – there was no sign of sickness. Jaehwan was back to his old snarky self, insults at the ready, and Wonshik figured they would slip back into their usual routine. Wonshik assumed he’d be ready to give back as much as he took, counters flying from his lips for every word Jaehwan said.

Except this time, it was different. This time, it hurt too much.

About the only comeback he could muster up to Jaehwan insinuating Wonshik’s autobiography would flop was the ever-eloquent Shut up. And even that did not hold the heat it usually would in any other situation involving his ex.

He just didn’t want to fight.

Jaehwan noticed it, he thought, if the way he paused were any indication, but he didn’t let it hold him back from another jab or two at his pride, words Wonshik hardly heard. They went their separate ways fairly quickly, Wonshik not in the mood to fight and Jaehwan not in the mood to push him into one.

Later, Wonshik would blame his lack of response to the baiting on the approaching release date of his autobiography, hardly more than a week after Jaehwan’s was set to hit stores. He had been working hard to finish his writing, knowing the deadline was only a couple of months away and Kyungil would need time to go through it for a final edit before it was sent to the presses. He had more to worry about than what clever insults he could say back to Jaehwan. He didn’t much care for what the man had to say, anyways.

Though that didn’t stop him from preordering Jaehwan’s book, despite the growing dread at the thought of reading it.

-

Who am I?

If you saw me on the street, I could be nobody, a stranger who might resemble someone you saw once. But on stage I am Ravi, former leader and rapper of ROVIX. I am an artist, a model. I am a son and a brother, a friend, and a partner.

But, above all those, I am Kim Wonshik.

I am me, and that is who I will always be.

-

One foggy Wednesday morning, Wonshik brought home a wrapped package the size of a book. He put it down on his desk, and then proceeded to meet up with Taekwoon for a late breakfast followed by hours in the studio. It was past midnight when he returned home, and then he merely stared at the wrapped book for a minute straight before going to bed.

The next two days continued in much the same manner, and the book remained on his desk, collecting dust while gaining many contemplative looks. Once or twice, Wonshik would even reach out to touch it, a finger sliding across the paper, but then he would draw back as if burned and turn away.

He took to avoiding the social media like the plague, for he knew Jaehwan’s fans, and probably a few of his own, would have already read Jaehwan’s book and would voice their opinions. There was probably a fanwar going on, because Wonshik’s fans were loyal and protective and wouldn’t stand for Jaehwan’s fans laughing and agreeing with whatever horrible words Jaehwan had written about him in his autobiography.

It seemed like a good idea to hole himself away in the studio. So long as he managed to shove away the questions – what had Jaehwan written about him? How were their fans taking it? Did Jaehwan really hate him so much? Would Jaehwan laugh into his face when he read Wonshik’s autobiography? Would Jaehwan even read his book? – working was the perfect distraction. Immersed in lyrics and beats, he wouldn’t remember Jaehwan’s book lying on his desk back home, just waiting to be unwrapped and read.

That day, however, focus didn’t come easily to him, and he found his thoughts inevitably drifting to that damned book. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to distract himself; it always lurked in his mind, calling to him.

On the fourth day, he finally decided he was being a coward and settled for a day at home. He figured it was better to be safe than sorry, after all, he didn’t know what this book contained, what harsh words that would take up its pages about Wonshik, words Jaehwan had written.

If he ended up crying, he wanted the whole day to do so, tucked away in the darkness of his bedroom.

He was tempted to find the section about him straight away, but he held himself in check and opened the book to the first page. Then he started to read.

Jaehwan was at times rash, his temper controlling his actions and words, but it came from a place of insecurity, of holding himself to impossible standards and living with the fear and frustration of never meeting them. As Wonshik read, that part of Jaehwan shined through, the doubts that he was never good enough.

He was surprised by the intimate nature of the book. The pages invited Wonshik into Jaehwan’s life, his mind and memories. It almost felt like an intrusion, sometimes, like he was entering forbidden territory, yet he didn’t put the book down, too taken with the story slowly unfolding on the pages as he absorbed every word.

It also felt like Jaehwan was letting him in again, which was nice, even if the anticipation buzzed in the back of his mind, never letting him forget that with every page turned, he was one page closer to the ruthless slap from reality. He approached the time in Jaehwan’s life that he had been a major part of. Some of him wanted to tuck his tail between his legs, to run and never look at the book again before that happened; but, mostly, he just wanted to get this over with. He couldn’t avoid it forever.

Perhaps this would be the closure he had thought he’d already gotten when he threw that dish.

The part in question came up quickly.

There are not many people I meet who manage to get under my skin. More often than not, I can smile and nod and carry on a conversation with a focus that doesn’t last for longer than the duration of the talk, my mind almost always centred on my career. I’m polite, and I get along well with others, but their words have never truly affected me.

Not until I met Wonshik.

Wonshik’s heart jumped, and for a moment, real, tangible fear almost threatened to crumble his so carefully crafted resolve, but he shoved it away, refusing to back down when he’d already gotten so far. It was now or never, and really, how bad could it be?

Hell. It could be horrible, and Wonshik wouldn’t care. Not much, at least. He would try not to care too much. The hurt would be the worst, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. At least he had been true to himself in his own autobiography, and if Jaehwan really hated Wonshik so much, well, then so be it.

He would be all right.

Kim Wonshik, from the moment I met him, has always had a talent for working his way into my thoughts. In the best of ways, that is. There was never anything terribly malicious about it, and the man probably didn’t know he was doing it, but he was – is – a charismatic character, who never fails to catch my eye. His lopsided grin will forever be seared in my mind, along with the rest of the memories I have from our time together.

Wonshik’s chest ached. He read on.

You know, I’m a different person when I’m around him now. Both of us are. We bicker and fuss, but when we part again, I always regret it. As a celebrity, a singer, it is expected of me to be good with words, but I’m not. Praise gets twisted into ridicule and criticism, and I am too much of a coward to take it back once it’s out there. Everything I want to say gets turned into something menacing. I even went as far as to threaten him with this book, and his reaction nearly tore the admission out of me: I would never be able to go through with such a threat. But I left him like that, thinking I could and would.

Even after our falling out, I think the world of him. I wonder how he is doing, wonder if he’s eating and sleeping properly, wonder if he remembers that time we went to the premiere of a friend’s movie together and held hands for the first time in public. Or the way I laughed at his jokes. Or the way he had smiled at me from the booth after I sang, nodding his head and looking at me as if I were an answer to a question I don’t know. I wonder if he thinks of me outside of our little arguments, if he remembers the times before fate pulled us apart.

We may fight, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he is one of the most talented people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And it doesn’t take away from the fact that I still care for him, and probably always will.

Look at me. I sound like a sap, rambling on about the past. But it’s important, if he were ever to read this, that he knows how much he meant to me.

I’m not brave enough to stand in front of him and tell him this to his face, so here I am.

It was only when a tear hit one of the pages that Wonshik realised he was crying. And then he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t thought to bring any tissues, and he didn’t want to move, so he made do with the sleeves of his sweater, sniffing every other minute as he continued to read.

He had expected to cry. Just not for this reason.

And to be honest, he wasn’t sure where to go from here.

-

Wonshik scrolled down his newsfeed, pausing over an article that held his name, and a picture of him and Jaehwan. He had seen many like it lately, though he was hesitant to read any.

Battle of the Books: Kim Wonshik’s and Lee Jaehwan's Autobiographies, and What They Had to Say About Each Other.

Wonshik opened the article after a moment, reading silently to himself.

Two weeks after Lee Jaehwan's autobiography hit the shelves, former leader of idol group ROVIX and ex-boyfriend Ravi (Kim Wonshik) releases his own. Fans were expecting a lot of mudslinging from Lee after the couple split nearly three years ago, but were surprised the singer had nothing but praise for the other man. But the debut of Kim's book has people wondering if he were aware of the sweet words written for him, or if this book is going to be a blow to Lee's candid account.

Wonshik’s book had been published today. Curiosity had won him over in the end, and he had taken to looking it up online, should anyone have already read it, but as of yet the majority of the articles that cropped up when he searched were similar to the one he had just skimmed.

The screen flashed, and he blinked, looking down at it and seeing a text from Taekwoon.

Did you do it yet?

The question was enough to get his heart racing, or perhaps it was more the thought of calling Jaehwan that prompted that reaction. He had asked Taekwoon for Jaehwan’s number, and Taekwoon had gotten it from Hakyeon without question, which had bothered Wonshik for a bit at first, for did Taekwoon already know about what Jaehwan had written about him? And then it had occurred to him that, well, he probably had. After all, he hadn’t had a reason to postpone reading the book like Wonshik.

Regardless, it was one thing to ask for Jaehwan’s number and code it into his phone – it was another thing entirely to actually do something about it. Like calling him, or sending a message. He didn’t know where to even start, what to say.

He wondered if Jaehwan had also preordered his book and was reading it right this moment, or if he were too busy. He most likely was. He was allegedly coming back with a full-length album in a month’s time, which would demand a lot of time from him in order to prepare for it. Reading Wonshik’s book probably wouldn’t be at the top of his priority list…

Perhaps he was scared to read, like Wonshik had been. Taking into consideration the words he had had to say about Wonshik in his own book, it actually wasn’t such a far-fetched idea, and Wonshik could almost all too easily imagine Jaehwan sitting like he had, just staring uncertainly at the book in front of him.

He tapped the phone nervously a couple of times, gnawing contemplatively at his bottom lip and weighing the pros and cons of manning up and calling Jaehwan. Worst case scenario, Jaehwan answered and ridiculed him for his supposed insincerity or his writing ability – or lack thereof, the insult would probably be.

Best case scenario…

Feeling almost numb, the finger that had hovered over Jaehwan’s contact eventually pressed down, and his heart jumped to his throat when the screen lit up with the words, Calling Lee Jaehwan…

Before he could tap the red button, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited. Part of him hoped Jaehwan wouldn’t pick up; it would be a sign that this was stupid, that he shouldn’t try again.

Wonshik held his breath.

“Hello?”

There was no going back now. Even if his instincts screamed at him to put the phone down.

“Hey. Uhm.” Jaehwan probably didn’t have his number, did he? “It’s me. Wonshik.”

“Oh. Wonshik.” Wonshik could hear Jaehwan exhale on the other end. “Hi.”

Then there was quiet, and Wonshik squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hand against his forehead and smacking himself mentally. He should’ve thought about what to say before calling, damn it. Now neither of them knew what to say, and it just made things even more awkward, and Wonshik hated it. He should’ve sent a text instead.

Wonshik heard Jaehwan clear his throat, and he tensed, trying to think of something to say before - “I - I read your book, and I, uh –”

“Huh? You read it? Really? But it’s only…” He lowered his voice, nearly whispering his next words, “It’s only been a day. And you’ve already read it.”

Jaehwan drew in a sharp breath, and Wonshik feared he was going to break his phone with how tightly he was holding it. “Yes, well, I preordered it, okay, and I picked it up this morning, and I had an early schedule, but then I got home and I read –”

“I read yours, too,” Wonshik cut in, feeling oddly short of breath for a phone call. “So, uuh. Yeah.”

They descended into silence again. Wonshik ran his tongue over his lips, clutching his phone and looking around his apartment for something that might give away what he was supposed to say now. Anything, really. He hated the silence, because it made him doubt everything, even if he knew, rationally, that he was stupid for thinking that, because Jaehwan hadn’t hung up on him, they hadn’t started insulting each other, and Jaehwan had read his book on the day it was published. It had taken Wonshik days to sit down with Jaehwan’s book. And Jaehwan had done it straight away.

It had to mean something, right?

“Can… Can we meet up?” Wonshik asked quietly, more afraid of the answer than he cared to admit.

Another silence, but then, bless, “Yeah… Yeah, we can.”

“Do you have time now?” The words came out too eagerly, too quick, and he thought he heard the faintest chuckle from Jaehwan, a sound of disbelief.

“I am home, ah, if you…” Jaehwan trailed off after that, but Wonshik was already getting off his couch, reaching for his keys.

“An hour. Give me an hour, and I’ll be there.”

-

Aegi was purring, curled into a ball of fluff on Wonshik’s lap as he sat in Jaehwan’s living room on Jaehwan’s sofa, with Jaehwan seated opposite him on a chair; they weren’t yet comfortable enough around each other to sit side by side, Wonshik thought. There was a change in the air, certainly, but they needed to talk things out; there was still an undeniable tension between them that came from years of locking away any positive feelings towards each other. So they sat, stiff and awkward, but together as they gathered their thoughts and courage.

Wonshik petted Aegi behind the ear, gaze mostly on her but straying now and then to Jaehwan, everything from his one bouncing leg to his rigid back giving away his anxiousness.

They hadn’t spoken much since Wonshik had arrived, asides from stilted greetings as Jaehwan had led him in and the standard Can I get you anything? Wonshik had a glass on the table between them with water, and Jaehwan had even brought some chocolate cookies on a plate. Wonshik suspected it had been an excuse to stay in the kitchen for a little bit longer before coming out to face him.

“I think she likes me,” he murmured, sliding a pair of fingers down the cat’s fur before stealing another look at Jaehwan, whose slight frown gave way for a fond smile at the mention of Aegi.

“She’s amicable.”

And then they regressed into silence once more, only broken by Aegi’s purring.

What did you talk about with your ex after so long? Wonshik feared anything he had to say would spur an argument and ruin everything they’d managed to salvage for now, fragile as it was, or they would continue in this awkward manner of tentative conversation openers with terse replies that more or less closed off the topic.

Once, they could’ve talked about everything and nothing without trouble. They’d talk for hours about nothing, everything. How times had changed, Wonshik realised with a pang in his chest. Sitting here in Jaehwan’s living room, everything that had happened between them suddenly had more impact.

He was so deep in thoughts that he almost missed Jaehwan’s words, spoken so quietly that he may as well have hoped for Wonshik to not hear them.

“This is ridiculous.” Wonshik lifted his head to look at Jaehwan, blinking confusedly. Jaehwan seemed determined to not look at him, but he continued all the same, a little louder this time, “We’re getting nowhere like this. So. I’m sorry for the things I’ve said to you. They… I never really meant any of them. I was just… jealous, and afraid, and miserable. And I’m sorry for letting that out on you.”

“Oh,” Wonshik breathed, lowering his eyes to Aegi. “I… Yeah, I’m sorry, too.” He drew in a steeling breath. “It’s just… Old habits die hard, right? Every time I thought about putting it behind me, I just couldn’t.”

Jaehwan snorted, a sharp smile adorning his face for a moment. “Role models, huh. Well, we haven’t been so good at that, have we?”

“Not really.” Wonshik glanced up again, and finally met Jaehwan’s eyes without any of them looking away. “We… have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Jaehwan nodded, averting his gaze again. He was fiddling mindlessly with a loose thread in his cardigan. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“I’m not sure I have built up enough courage to eat your food.”

Jaehwan’s head snapped up, and he frowned at Wonshik. Wonshik almost wanted to take his words back, but he held his breath; hopefully, Jaehwan would recognise it as their old banter, the harmless kind that prompted half-hearted swats and smiles, bright laughter.

Jaehwan hesitated for a bit, and then he cleared his throat. “I’ve gotten better at cooking. I… had to learn, after all. But we can order takeout, if you’d prefer,” he added quickly.

“No need,” Wonshik insisted. “If you… want to cook, then go ahead. If I get food poisoning, well, I’ll know this reconciling wasn’t the best idea we had.”

Jaehwan huffed, but this time, the smile on his face was more sincere. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

If Wonshik’s car didn’t leave Jaehwan’s apartment that night, well, let the reporters report and wonder. Neither Wonshik nor Jaehwan was in any mood to indulge them; they had things to talk out, things to reminisce, new memories to make.

The path to friendship wouldn’t be without bumps, and from friendship to love, well, no one knew. Wonshik’s heart still skipped a beat in surprised awe every time Jaehwan laughed – not an all-out laugh, not yet, but a small, quiet laugh, genuine all the same – and he dared say Jaehwan hadn’t gotten used to seeing Wonshik in his couch yet, if his occasional stares and loss of concentration were anything to go by.

Even if their books were displayed in the windows of various bookstores, their relationship was still a work in progress.

Aah, look at these awkward sweethearts.

Guys, I’m done! Officially. Yay! Big thanks to my beta, and to you, readers, for being patient <3

I have vague plans for a sequel-ish with Neo focus, but. Nothing definite, so don’t hold your hopes high, pffft.

The next fic I upload might be one I finished a while ago. With that said, it’s the first instalment of what I plan to be two parts and a prequel – all split up into three fics. Sunset and Sunrise, and Thanatos as the prequel. Sunset is finished, and includes (most of) VIXX as faeries and focus on Neo, as well as minor background pairings. Sunrise is bothering me, as is Thanatos, but perhaps uploading Sunset could kick my writing into gear, pfft.

Anyway! I am very pleased with how this fic turned out, so I hope you liked it, too! Upvotes and comments are worth a fortune to me, and may save characters in future works <3

Until next fic, dearies!