A/N: please don't ask for a sequel it's open-ended for a reason lol

also idk what's wrong with the italics sorry

“Dude,” Baekhyun says, throwing himself into the seat beside Jongin at their table. “Did you know that Taeyeon is gay now?”

“You didn’t know that Taeyeon is gay?” Jongin laughs, setting his beer on the tablecloth. “You’re the one who used to date her.”

“I mean , I know we were like sixteen and my game was weak as hell back then, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“She posts pics from Pride on Facebook every year. And you didn’t single-handedly turn Taeyeon into a lesbian, Baekhyun.”

“Her girlfriend is hot as hell, too. It’s not fair.”

“Woe is you,” Jongin deadpans, looking out over the sea of young adults in the ballroom. The banner hanging over the doorway reads “Welcome Class of 2006,” and in the center of each table is a centerpiece anchoring a small cluster of helium balloons in their old high school colors. They’re twenty-eight now, but the fact that he’s in the middle of attending a high school reunion makes Jongin feel like he’s forty-eight instead.

“Anyways,” Baekhyun says, sliding closer to his best friend with a grin. “Have you seen Zhang Yixing lately? That man aged like a fine wine, I am telling you.”

“Is Yixing here?” Jongin looks up in the direction from which Baekhyun came. “I want to talk to him.”

“I didn’t see no ring either,” Baekhyun grins, wiggling the fingers of his left hand. “Slide him my number when you talk to him, would you?”

“Isn’t he straight, though?” Jongin asks, distracted as he spots Soojung and her wife across the room and tries to catch her eye. “Hold on, I’m gonna go say hi to Krys.”

“Why don’t we have any straight friends?” Baekhyun wonders aloud to himself as Jongin gets up and starts making his way across the ballroom.

He makes it about half of the way before someone to his left turns too quickly and collides with him, accidentally spilling his martini down Jongin’s front with a gasp. “!” the man swears, and Jongin automatically grabs the guy’s arms to steady him as he stumbles backwards. “Oh my god dude, I am so sorry…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jongin is quick to assure him with a good-natured chuckle, eyes focused downwards on the wet splash stains on his slacks. “Really, don’t worry about it.”

Jongin expects the stranger to say something else along the lines of “come here, I’ll help you clean up” or “here, let me at least pay for your dry cleaning,” but the man holding the cocktail glass is suddenly silent. Jongin glances up to find the stranger staring at him, and his heart constricts almost unbearably in his chest when he realizes that it’s not a stranger at all.

“K-Kyungsoo?” Jongin breathes, the chatter of the ballroom suddenly fading to nothingness in his mind as they lock eyes.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispers, and Jongin can see the anguish, the guilt, the raw emotion in his eyes facing him again after so many years.

Jongin remembers the crippling crush he caught on Kyungsoo during the spring of their freshman year: his first real crush, the one that had forced him to realize that he was gay. He remembers spending their sweet sixteens at each other’s houses, stealing kisses when their parents weren’t looking and exchanging fumbling, messy s in their beds at night. He remembers sneaking out of the house to meet Kyungsoo down at the beach in the middle of the night where he and his boyfriend’s friends would smoke cigarettes and drink stolen alcohol. His mom never did find out.

He remembers Kyungsoo taking his ity in the backseat of the elder’s beat-up old Lexus, Kyungsoo’s soft lips kissing all the skin they could reach to distract him from the pain. He remembers feeling like the happiest boy in the world when Kyungsoo whispered that he loved him in the humid afterglow of his . He remembers making out in the locker rooms during gym class. He remembers attending senior prom with matching blue bow ties. He remembers Kyungsoo sneaking in his window in wee hours of the morning and covering his mouth as he ed him into his mattress, teasing him in a whisper that he’d better keep it down if he didn’t want his sister next door to hear. 

Jongin remembers the morning he drove to Kyungsoo’s college to surprise him, having grown dissatisfied with FaceTime following graduation and craving physical affection. He remembers the blank feeling when a tall, handsome man he didn’t recognize opened the door in his underwear, neck smattered with hickies and hair hopelessly ruined from . He remembers asking about Kyungsoo and being told that he was in the shower. Who are you, the man had frowned, perfect eyebrows drawing together as he looked down at Jongin as if Jongin was the one who didn’t belong there. Jongin remembers his world crashing down around him, feeling like his lungs were filling up with tar, the nausea making him stumble backwards as he listened to Kyungsoo’s voice ask, babe, who’s at the door?

Jongin remembers being eighteen and crying more tears on Baekhyun’s shoulder that winter than he had in all his previous years combined. He remembers Baekhyun’s roommate Chanyeol lying on the top bunk pretending to listen to music while Baekhyun held him, teeth grinding with fury that Jongin is glad he never got the chance to unleash on Kyungsoo. His first heartbreak followed the end of a relationship that lasted over three years, an incredible feat for a couple of teenagers, and it took time almost four months to heal his wounds.

Kyungsoo looks different. Jongin remembers him with wine-red hair that he wore in a two-cut style and tight black leather clothes. His jawline has gotten sharper, and his hair is now black and cropped short. He looks older. He’s in a simple black dress shirt today; he always did love black, Jongin thinks bitterly; tucked into his pants without a tie. They’re staring at each other, searching for the right words to say, the bustle of the reunion nothing but a dull hum surrounding them.

Jongin feels angry tears welling up in his eyes. He still has feelings for him. He still has feelings for him, dammit, after everything Kyungsoo put him through. After almost ten years without speaking to each other, Jongin’s pathetic still likes him. All the emotions he’s worked so hard to forget are coming back now: all the hurt, the fury, the hate, the love, the helplessness.

He remembers.

“Jongin, I—”

Jongin smacks him straight across the face before he can say another word, garnering startled gasps from several people around them. Kyungsoo doesn’t retaliate, wordlessly flinching and turning his head to the side knowing damn well that he deserves worse. Jongin hates how he can feel his tears falling, how his fists tremble at his sides as he glares down at him.

“Do you feel better?” Kyungsoo asks softly, his tone gentle and sincere, and Jongin can see the anguish and regret in Kyungsoo’s eyes when he looks back up.

“...yeah,” Jongin eventually says with a short laugh, although he’s not sure what’s funny, as he wipes feebly at his tears. Kyungsoo returns half of the smile anyways. 

“I’d… like to talk. If you’re willing to listen. If not, I don’t blame you at all.”

The very sound of Kyungsoo’s voice after all this time has Jongin feeling so much that he’s almost dizzy. “Yeah,” he agrees after a deep breath. They’re adults now, after all. Jongin moved on from Kyungsoo long ago. They’re not in love anymore, and Jongin sees no harm in seeking a bit of closure. “Sure.”

Jongin nervously glances back at Baekhyun to make sure he isn’t looking before following Kyungsoo in the direction of the terrace. It’s quieter outside, save for a few people smoking and admiring the view. There’s a long string of fairy lights wrapped around the rail that Kyungsoo rests his forearms against as he looks out over the city, and Jongin stands beside him wishing that they could see the stars.

“How have you been?” Kyungsoo asks after a moment, turning his head a little to look at the younger.

“Fine.”

“You still dancing?”

“No,” Jongin tells him, looking at his hands instead of his ex. He doesn’t have to turn his head to sense that Kyungsoo wasn’t expecting that answer. “Not since college.”

“Why?” Kyungsoo frowns. “You lived to dance, Jongin.”

“Yeah, well,” Jongin chuckles without humor. “Pirouettes don’t pay the bills.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t ask what he’s doing for a living now. Maybe he doesn’t want to know. Kyungsoo used to be Jongin’s number one fan when he danced.

“How about you?” Jongin asks after another few beats of silence. “Haven’t seen your face plastered all over KBS yet.”

Kyungsoo chuckles and looks down. “Yeah, well. There’s only so many cereal and anti-depressant commercials you can audition for before you start to realize it’s not gonna happen.”

Jongin’s eyes wander over to Kyungsoo’s fingers where they’re loosely clasped together as he leans against the rail. 

“You’re not smoking.”

Kyungsoo glances over with a smile. “Quit. Six years.”

“That’s good,” Jongin says sincerely, smiling a little despite himself. “I’m proud of you.”

“That means a lot,” Kyungsoo nods, looking back down at the street twelve floors below. “That means a lot.”

There’s a strange sort of peace between them despite Jongin’s emotional outburst a few minutes ago. Kyungsoo is quiet as he tries to find the words he wants to say, and Jongin silently enjoys the odd sort of comfort he feels standing beside Kyungsoo again after such a long time. 

“I don’t…” Kyungsoo begins, wetting his lips. “There’s nothing I can say that will make up for what I did to you, Jongin. It was… honestly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” Jongin doesn’t respond, but Kyungsoo knows he’s listening. “I was young. And really really stupid. I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life. Cheating on somebody is ty enough, but I cheated on you. That’s even worse.”

Jongin looks over at him. “Why?”

“Why?” Kyungsoo chuckles. “You were the best thing I had. I didn’t realize that until you were gone. You’re… you’re the one who got away for me.”

Jongin thinks about that for a few moments, gazing unseeingly over the twinkling skyline. “Who was he?” he finally asks, grateful that his voice doesn’t crack.

“His name was Sehun,” Kyungsoo tells him. “I think… he might’ve reminded me of you somehow.”

“You definitely have a type,” Jongin half-jokes to break up a bit of the tension. Kyungsoo lets out a soft laugh for his effort. 

“Tall, handsome, good at dancing? I guess I do. I stopped seeing him about a month after I stopped seeing you. He wasn’t what I wanted.”

Jongin turns to look at him then, a tiny smile on his lips despite the wetness in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is hardly more than a whisper:

“I thought I was going to marry you someday, Kyungsoo.”

“Nini, I’m so sorry,” comes Kyungsoo’s quiet reply, and the old nickname makes the tears finally trickle down Jongin’s cheeks. “I could never ask you to forgive me, but I’m still glad I got the chance to tell you how sorry I am.”

Jongin sniffs and turns away a little to hide his face. It’s odd. He and Kyungsoo haven’t spoken since their split, but for some reason, they don’t feel like strangers at all.

“I forgive you,” Jongin hears himself say, the words no more than a whisper in the crisp fall air. It feels good. His shoulders feel a little lighter, a weight he’d forgotten he was carrying lifted as the dusty chapter of his first relationship finally closes. “I forgive you, Soo.”

Jongin glances up to see tears in Kyungsoo’s eyes as well and doesn’t object when the elder steps closer and pulls him into a hug. He smells different now, too. Instead of the cigarette smoke and axe deodorant that Jongin remembers so well, Kyungsoo’s scent is that of warm spice and aftershave. It’s a peaceful moment, comfortably quiet save for the music still playing inside the ballroom, and Jongin suddenly regrets attending this reunion a little bit less as Kyungsoo presses him close like he’s afraid to let him go again.

“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning,” Kyungsoo mumbles against his lapel, and Jongin laughs softly at the sudden offer.

“You better.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Kyungsoo smiles a bit, pulling back and looking up into Jongin’s eyes. “Maybe I can buy you a cup of coffee sometime to replace your spilled drink, too?”

The hesitation must show on Jongin’s face, for Kyungsoo quickly adds, “Just friends. We got along well in high school, right? And I’m curious what you’ve been up to.”

“Sure,” Jongin says after a second, because if he’s being honest with himself, he’s missed Kyungsoo. It’s obvious now that the Kyungsoo he dated once upon a time is long gone, but he’s equally as drawn to the man facing him tonight. In a totally platonic way, of course. “Sure, what’s your number?”

“Has yours changed?” Kyungsoo asks as Jongin pulls his phone out of his pants pocket, and the younger confusedly shakes his head. “Then… I kind of… still have it.”

Jongin blinks. “Oh,” he says, trying not to smile at the way Kyungsoo’s eyes shift embarrassedly. “Okay. Okay yeah, just text me then.”

Kyungsoo clears his throat and nervously cracks his knuckles before smiling up at Jongin and gesturing towards the door. “Shall we?”

Jongin smiles for real this time. “We shall.”

 

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