“You want to go eat at a slightly nicer place tonight?”

Junhoe finished packing his gear away before looking up at Jinhwan. They’d just finished a two hour training session in preparation for Jinhwan’s upcoming brown belt test that had mostly consisted of Junhoe allowing Jinhwan to practice a variety of moves on him. “How nice?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay,” Jinhwan offered, “I made you my guinea pig for the past two hours, it’s the least I can do. Maybe an actual restaurant instead of our usual street vendor.” 

Junhoe grinned back at him before zipping his bag closed and standing up. “Well then, in that case you’d better make it somewhere especially nice.” He followed Jinhwan out from the building and onto the street, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The weather was finally starting to catch up with the time of the year, and the nights were cooling off. 

“Thanks for helping me out, by the way,” Jinhwan said, “I know today couldn’t have been that exciting for you.” 

“It’s fine, hyung, it’s not glamorous all the time.” Junhoe didn’t mind helping out, especially since he didn’t have any pressing schoolwork this week. It was also kind of nice to be the one helping Jinhwan for his test. He could be practicing with anyone, but he’d asked Junhoe. 

“Won’t lie, it was nice putting you in all of those positions and not having to fight you on it,” Jinhwan teased, nudging Junhoe’s arm. 

Junhoe shook his head and hoped he wasn’t blushing at the comment. He’d just blame it on the cold wind making his cheeks red. “Yeah you’re lucky I’m such a nice person.” 

Jinhwan soon led the way into a cozy little restaurant, where they were able to snag the last booth. They stuffed their bags under the table and looked over the menus before deciding on two pots of bulgogi. 

Eating in a restaurant, just the two of them, felt different to Junhoe, a little nicer, a little more formal than simply getting food at the vendor and sitting on a bench to eat. He glanced quickly around the restaurant, pleased that no one seemed to be paying them much attention. 

“I’ve come here a few times with Bobby,” Jinhwan explained, “Jiun actually brought us here the first time. He used to eat here a lot when he was our age.” 

Junhoe thought it was nice that the place had a bit of history for them. “Really? That’s cool that you guys kept it up.” 

Jinhwan smiled at him, slumping comfortably back into the seat. “Yeah, the food is really good and it’s fairly cheap.” 

Junhoe scrunched his face at the comment purely for effect. “I’m offended you’re not taking me somewhere nicer like Hanbin did for Bobby hyung,” Junhoe teased, grinning when Jinhwan looked annoyed. 

“Well, that was a date, and last I checked, we’re not supposed to be dating.” Jinhwan winked at him and Junhoe grinned. 

But Jinhwan’s wording was interesting, wasn’t it? We’re not supposed to be dating. Probably just a joking slip of the tongue, Junhoe figured. Ah, since when did he ever pay that much attention to phrasing anyway? Usually he was the one sticking his foot in his own mouth, instead of assessing what others were saying. 

“Yeah, you couldn’t pay me to date you.” Junhoe teased back, grinning when Jinhwan frowned at him. 

“I’m not paying for you anymore,” he replied, kicking Junhoe’s leg under the table, “so I hope you brought your wallet.” 

“Hey, you’re the regular here, I’ll just leave and never come back again. Then you’ll have to explain to Bobby and Jiun why you can’t come to their restaurant anymore.” Junhoe laughed when Jinhwan let out an annoyed huff of breath. 

“I guess you have a point, which is annoying. Fine, I’ll pay for you this time. Because I’m so nice, and because I have a reputation to maintain.” 

“So generous, hyung, I’m not worthy.” Junhoe’s tone was sarcastic and he dodged when Jinhwan kicked at him again. 

“No, you’re absolutely not worthy. I’m glad you realize that.” Jinhwan shot back, but it was clear the words were only meant teasingly. There was a warmth in his eyes that made Junhoe smile without really meaning to. 

“So, hyung, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you end up getting into jiu jitsu to begin with?” Junhoe had been curious about the question lately. He wanted to get to know more about Jinhwan than just what he offered on the surface, and there was no easier way to dig for information than jiu jitsu. 

Jinhwan grinned back at him before answering. “This might shock you, but I used to get bullied a lot as a kid.” Jinhwan paused for a reaction, but all Junhoe did was roll his eyes dramatically. 

“Wow, definitely shocking. If you weren’t such a good fighter I’m sure people would still try to beat you up now, including me,” Junhoe deadpanned his response. 

Jinhwan frowned at him. “Are you threatening me? After I just spent two hours manhandling you?” 

“I let you!” Junhoe retorted. 

Jinhwan grinned back at him. “Precisely, and that’s my point. Anyway, as I was saying, my grandpa got tired of me coming home and complaining about getting knocked around by the other kids. So he decided to sign me up for training.” 

Junhoe actually thought it was a neat story. He’d only started because he’d wound up in the wrong class by mistake, but he was glad for it. Jinhwan’s story was far more interesting. “Where’s your grandpa now? Back on Jeju?” 

Jinhwan frowned at the question, but he was quick to steel his expression into something a little more pleasant. “I don’t know, actually. I haven’t seen him since my parents divorced a few years ago.” 

Junhoe paused, registering Jinhwan’s sudden admission. Jinhwan never mentioned his father, ever, to the point that Junhoe had actually assumed he had died when Jinhwan was young. It had never occurred to him that Jinhwan’s parents had split up. “So I take it he was your dad’s dad?” 

Jinhwan nodded. “Yeah. Mom has full custody, but she didn’t forbid him from seeing me or anything like that. He just chose to stop visiting me.” Jinhwan hadn’t talked about his grandfather in a while, wasn’t sure why he was divulging the information now. 

“Why did your parents divorce?” Junhoe wasn’t sure what the protocol was for asking someone about their parents in this sort of situation. He actually didn’t know anyone whose parents were divorced. Didn’t even know anyone whose parents fought enough to contemplate divorce. 

“Ah, it’s a long story.” Jinhwan said, wondering if he should actually tell Junhoe about it. He never really talked about his parents, hadn’t even thought of his dad in months. 

“Well, we’re still waiting for our food, so we have time, if you want to.” Junhoe couldn’t believe he was asking. He usually didn’t pay that much attention to the lives of other people, but he was actually curious about Jinhwan and his situation. Maybe it was because it was the first hint of something vulnerable about him, the first little chink in his armour. 

Jinhwan was surprised that Junhoe was asking. Usually when they hung out they kept their conversations away from personal issues. Would it be alright to tell him? Would it ruin things? His family situation wasn’t exactly pleasant. He stared at Junhoe, watching him for a moment, judging if he ought to come clean. 

Might as well, if he was curious. “My dad, to put it bluntly, was an irresponsible piece of . He drank a lot, wasn’t abusive or anything like that, he was just lazy. Lost his job and developed a gambling problem, used to squander mom’s money. She put up with it for years, I don’t know why. I guess because it was expected of her.” 

Junhoe was blown away at the explanation. Not just because of the actual story itself, but just hearing Jinhwan address it. There was a bitterness in his voice that wasn’t usually there. Junhoe was almost sorry for asking now. 

Jinhwan continued. “If you asked my grandpa, though, everything was mom’s fault. Dad drank because she prioritized her career with the symphony over her marriage. He lost his job because he drank, so he started gambling because he didn’t have money of his own and he couldn’t stand living off of my mom. If mom had just paid more attention to him, he never would have started that spiral.” Jinhwan was surprised himself at the bitter tone in his voice. Years later, and it still made him so angry to think about. Sure, he had his problems with his mother, but she wasn’t responsible for everything the way his grandfather had tried to say she was. 

Junhoe was feeling equally as incensed. “That’s bull,” he replied, “how could he say that? You can’t pin that on someone else. Your dad had a responsibility to his family, he should have tried harder to keep his job.” 

Junhoe’s outrage mollified Jinhwan’s bitterness somewhat. “I know, though at the time I was too young to understand what was going on. When things really started to get rough, that’s when mom sent me to Seoul for the first time. She wanted me to train with a specific trumpet instructor there, and to be fair I was something of a prodigy, so it worked out. I went to Seoul with my grandpa, it kept me out of the house while dad got really bad. I didn’t know what was going on at the time, though, my mom kept it from me. I didn’t find out until years later, when Seiyeon filled me in.” Jinhwan paused for a moment, feeling slightly vulnerable now that he was going through all the emotions again. He’d buried it for a while, and dredging it back up was painful. 

So it was time to switch up the topic. “Anyway, so you can imagine me, this nerdy little ten year old, fresh from the island, going to school with a bunch of city kids who thought I was a dork for playing the trumpet.” 

“Is that when you met Bobby?” Junhoe asked, trying to remember if Jinhwan had ever told him about their first meeting. 

Jinhwan smiled at the question, because as tough as everything had been at the time, meeting Bobby had been one of the best things that had ever happened to him. “Yeah, he stopped some guys from beating me up one day after school. He became my first Seoul friend. That’s when my grandfather decided to put me in lessons. It helped, gave me confidence to stand up for myself.” 

“That’s good, cause who would want to have to rely on Bobby hyung for that long?” Junhoe replied teasingly. 

“Actually you don’t know how funny it really is! Fast forward a few years later and Bobby got a mouth on him, developed a habit of talking back to some of the older students. I ended up having to save his a few times.” Jinhwan grinned as he thought back on it. It really had been quite the turn around. 

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Junhoe replied, envisioning a younger Bobby being chased by older students. “He’s lucky he found you when he did.” 

“Sure was.” Jinhwan agreed. 

“So, have you ever tried to contact your grandpa?” Junhoe asked, still curious about the family thing. 

Jinhwan frowned again, wishing they hadn’t come back to the topic so soon. “No, I actually don’t really want to. He was good to me, but I can’t forgive him so easily for piling all of that on my mom. She was trying her best, and he blamed her anyway even though it wasn’t her fault. Completely absolved my dad of any responsibility. He even manipulated me into blaming her for it all too, because I was too young to think for myself. When Seiyeon told me the truth, though, well. I’d be happy to keep that side of my family cut away. There’s nothing good there.” 

Junhoe listened in shock. He couldn’t even fathom wanting nothing to do with his family. How badly would someone have to hurt you in order for you to cut them off completely? He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it, wasn’t sure if Jinhwan had made the right choice or not. What if they changed? He’d never know. “That’s really sad, hyung. I don’t know anyone with your kind of situation. I wouldn’t have even thought it was something a real person would go through, it sounds like something from a drama.” 

Jinhwan gave him a sad sort of smile. “That’s the thing with people, they get really good at hiding their problems. I bet you’d be shocked at how many people around you have crappy family stories. You just can’t see them, because people will do anything to hide their skeletons.” 

“I don’t know, hyung. That’s a lot to hide.” 

“If I hadn’t told you, would you have ever guessed it was something like this?” Jinhwan asked, and Junhoe conceded the point to him. 

It was just so bizarre, though. The more he heard the harder it was to fathom, but the more he wanted to hear. He couldn’t stop himself before asking the next question, the one he’d really been curious about all this time. “Why doesn’t your mom support your fighting?” 

Jinhwan bristled at the question. No. He wasn’t ready to go there just yet. “Sorry, I don’t know if I really want to talk about that.” 

Junhoe felt like crap as soon as he saw the way Jinhwan’s face crumpled. Of course he didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m sorry, hyung, I shouldn’t have asked, it just came out,” Junhoe apologized, feeling like absolute scum. “I’m pretty terrible at this sort of stuff, I always end up talking without thinking and saying something that offends someone.” 

Jinhwan glanced up at him, feeling bad himself when he heard Junhoe’s voice tinge with regret. He couldn’t fault Junhoe for asking, really, and part of him was surprised that he was only asking now. They were both saved from answering by the appearance of their food. Junhoe was a little too enthusiastic in his response to the waitress and Jinhwan knew it was because he felt bad for prying. 

Maybe he should talk about it, though. If he was planning on talking to his mom at some point, it would probably help to vent about everything, and then discuss how to make it better. And Junhoe didn’t know anything about the situation either, it would be a brand new opinion. His own opinion of things had changed in the past few months, after all. 

Junhoe cracked an egg into his pot and stirred it silently, feeling awkward in the silence. He really should have kept a firmer handle on himself before he went barreling into Jinhwan’s private life like that. He was just terrible at this, terrible at picking up on cues from others about when enough was enough. Hanbin usually called him on it, and Junhoe really could have used his criticism tonight. So it was a shock when Jinhwan suddenly started talking. 

“My grandfather forged my mom’s signature in order to sign me up for lessons,” he began the long explanation, deciding to go for it after all, “maybe she would have said yes and saved us all years of grief if he’d just asked her, I don’t know. But because things with dad were already falling apart, so many things were happening that were out of her control, I guess this just felt like a slap in the face, you know? Like he’d taken away her right as a parent to decide what I needed. He was already blaming her for the marriage failing, and this probably felt like he was judging her parenting too.” 

Junhoe paused in his stirring, listening to Jinhwan talk. He’d obviously done a lot of thinking on the subject, and Junhoe was surprised at what he was hearing. How had Jinhwan come up with that idea on his own? It seemed awfully mature given how hurt he clearly was by his family. 

“Before she divorced dad, mom was a bit of a pushover. She didn’t really speak up for herself, she’d sooner forget about whatever the problem was and move on. Probably why things got so bad with dad, because she just let it happen and never stood up to him until everything was beyond fixing. But I guess that’s what happened with the jiu jitsu. She felt like she couldn’t do anything to stop it, so instead she just decided to ignore it entirely. It was tough on me, though, I wasn’t old enough to understand. I just came home at Christmas, really excited to show her everything I’d learned, but when I tried to tell her about it she just brushed me off and said that she didn’t want me to do it, that she hated fighting, thought it was barbaric and below me.” 

“She said what?” Junhoe bristled at the comments, feeling incensed. So many people held that foolish notion of any sort of fighting style and he was tired of hearing it. 

Jinhwan shook his head though. “I don’t know if she really meant it, honestly. I think she was mostly saying it for my grandpa, to try and make him mad. I was too young to understand that, though, and instead I just took it to heart and thought that she actually hated me for choosing to fight.” 

“Of course you would!” Junhoe replied, “you were a kid! Your mom shouldn’t have done that to you, no matter what was going on with her and your dad and your grandpa. She was punishing you for what they were doing to her, and that’s bull.” He almost couldn’t believe Jinhwan’s story, especially not when he was trying to paint his mom somewhat sympathetically. 

Jinhwan stared at Junhoe for a moment before answering, trying to figure out the best way to help Junhoe understand his feelings. He'd already run through the gambit of blaming his mom for how she'd chosen to act, but holding on to those bitter feelings hadn't helped him. “I know, trust me I’m not making excuses for her behaviour, but it’s more complicated than that. She couldn’t fight back against my dad or my grandpa, so she fought back where she could. I think part of it was just bitterness. My dad acted like he was really interested, he’d always ask me about it any chance he got whenever she was around, he always told me that I was probably the best at it. The sort of thing every kid wants to hear from their parents. He kept promising me that he’d come out to Seoul to watch me fight. For years he kept promising me, but he never came. Not once.” He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. Thinking about his father’s string of broken promises was never easy. 

“So I kept falling for it, every time, and I was disappointed every time. I kept telling myself that it was probably my fault, that I just wasn’t good enough, that I needed to get better. When I got promoted out of white belt, I thought for sure he’d come. My grandpa promised me that my dad was going to come and see my promotion. But he didn’t. So instead of celebrating something I’d been looking forward to for months, I went home and cried about it all night. Called my mom, but she just told me that it was a sign that I shouldn’t be fighting. That it only made bad things happen.” 

Junhoe listened in silence, torn between wanting to argue more about how Jinhwan’s mother shouldn’t have used his dad against the sport like that. But maybe Jinhwan had a point. His mom had been hurting too, and the person who was really at fault was Jinhwan’s dad for continually breaking promises and setting him up for disappointment. Just the idea of a younger Jinhwan looking for his dad at every competition made his heart ache. Junhoe had never once worried about his parents not coming to watch him. They’d always been there, vocal and visible in their support. He’d actually gotten to the point that he’d asked them not to come as often. And there was Jinhwan, begging for anyone in his family to take interest. All he’d had was a manipulative grandfather who created more problems than he solved. 

“You know, I kept fighting over the years because my grandpa kept encouraging me, and I kept hoping it would make me dad care more. It wasn’t even for me anymore after a while, it was for my dad. It’s stupid, but at the same time I practiced really hard, and I grew a lot in those years. But then my mom finally got herself together and divorced my dad three years ago.” 

“Is that when you moved back to Jeju?” Junhoe asked, remembering Jinhwan’s timeline. He’d gone back to the island for a few years, but he’d never said why. 

Jinhwan nodded. “Yeah, at that point I was staying with Bobby’s family, because my grandpa wasn’t really doing well enough to look after me on his own, but no one else from our family could join us in Seoul, and I didn’t want to go back to Jeju. Grandpa was still living in Seoul, at a senior’s home, but he’d come to watch my jiu jitsu matches, and I’d go visit him when I could. All he ever did was complain about my mom, though, say that she was ruining our family. I was so angry about everything that I let him fill me up with bitterness that last year before the divorce. I was blaming her for everything too, even though it was everyone else I was really mad at. He made her an easy target, though. So when I found out about the divorce I was gutted. She wanted me to come back to Jeju, but I didn’t want to go. My whole life was in Seoul, and it was stable for the most part. I didn’t want to leave Bobby and his family. But I didn’t have a choice, she had full custody so I had to do what she wanted.” 

Junhoe’s food lay forgotten while he listened, elbow on the table and face in his hand, mouth slightly agape. How could Jinhwan have gone through all of that, but come out seemingly so normal? Junhoe was surprised he wasn’t still filled with anger all the time. “So what happened then? Did you find out what had really been going on?” 

Jinhwan nodded, playing absently with his chopsticks. “Yeah, mom tried explaining it at first, but I didn’t want to listen to anything she had to say. I was too angry at her for ruining my life, making me leave everything in Seoul. I didn’t have any friends left on Jeju, I’d been away for too long and I’d changed too much. My jiu jitsu trainer was in Seoul, my trumpet instructor, my friends and Bobby. I was miserable, and I took it out on her without listening to her. Seiyeon tried to explain everything to me, but I was too angry to really let it sink in. It might have worked, but mom said she wasn’t going to let me continue training anymore, said it was the cause for my bad attitude.” 

“How did you get her to change her mind?” 

Jinhwan grinned suddenly at the memory. “I did something stupid and childish.” 

Junhoe’s expression matched Jinhwan’s without him even realizing it. “What?” 

“I ran away. Thankfully it was summer break, so it was nice out. I was determined to go and find my dad, because I’d worked it into my head that all along it had been mom who wasn’t letting him come to watch my fights. I couldn’t find him, though, spent a few nights sleeping on the beach.” 

Junhoe was floored by the answer. Running away from home was one more thing he’d heard of people doing, in dramas and books and movies, but it wasn’t something he’d actually thought that real people did. “What happened? Did you go back home?” 

Jinhwan grinned again and shook his head. “I got picked up by the police, finally. Mom had a friend on the force, he’s the guy who found me and brought me home. We talked on the way there, and he asked me why I’d left. I told him it was because she wouldn’t let me train.” Jinhwan couldn’t help but laugh at it now, it was so stupid. 

Junhoe laughed too, and it felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders when he heard Jinhwan’s improved tone. It actually wasn’t all that surprising now that he thought about it. Jinhwan did have a rash and impetuous streak about him. “You know, that’s actually kind of hilarious, I can picture you in the police car, complaining about it.” 

“Yeah, fifteen year old me with my clothes full of sand, yelling about jiu jitsu to a police officer. It must have sounded ridiculous.” He paused again and watched as Junhoe finally took a bite of his food. Jinhwan looked at his own, twirled his chopsticks again. “I remember when he brought me back. I was expecting her to yell at me and be angry, but instead she just ran up and hugged me, crying. I’d never seen her like that before, genuinely sad and upset. It was always usually overruled by bitter anger. Before he left the officer told her that she should just let me continue training if it meant that much to me. He gave her the information for the gym where his brother trained. So in the end she relented and said she’d let me start again, but only if I kept my marks perfect and trained extra hard in music. I did, but it was tough. I worked harder for those months than I’d ever worked before, I was exhausted and miserable. I actually thought about giving up jiu jitsu, because it had become such a sore topic between us. She’d agreed to let me train, but she wasn’t happy about it. I felt like I was always walking on eggshells.” 

Junhoe stopped eating again, halting with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “You almost quit? What made you stay?” 

Jinhwan smiled at the memory of that time, when everything turned around so unexpectedly after feeling so bleak and hopeless. “That’s when I got a new trainer, and he made everything better.” 

Junhoe grinned and slurped down his spoonful before speaking. “That’s when you met Eric.” 

Jinhwan nodded. “He’d just moved back to Korea after being in the US. I don’t know if it was just because he was younger, or if working in the US had changed him, but he was so different from the other trainers. Everyone before him had been strictly professional, and we never talked about anything other than jiu jitsu. But Eric made a point of getting to know everyone. Instead of just trying to be my instructor, he tried to be my friend, and I really needed a friend at that time. I tried not to at first, but it’s like he could sense that something was wrong. So one day after training, he offered to take me out for dinner, so we could have a chance to talk. I ended up telling him everything about my family, and honestly it was the best decision I’d made. He’s the reason why I started to understand things with my mom. Seiyeon had told me everything, but I never really understood it. But he had a way of breaking it all down that made sense to me, helped me see that it had never been me that she’d been mad at, it hadn’t even been the sport. It was always my dad, and my grandpa. It helped me so much, I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him. I probably would have quit, and I would have been miserable. Instead he helped me feel like it was worth it, made me feel like I was worth something in the sport. When my grandpa was there, his support had always come at the expense of tarnishing my mom’s name. But Eric made it about me, and on top of that he helped me see that my mom wasn’t the villain I’d thought she was. He helped me understand that she was a victim too.” 

Junhoe couldn’t believe that Jinhwan’s relationship with Eric Kwon had gone beyond regular student and teacher. To think that he’d shared so much of himself with him and had gotten so much in return was just absolutely wild to Junhoe. He was a little jealous of Jinhwan, because who wouldn’t want an older brother figure like that in their life? 

Jinhwan couldn’t believe he’d just explained it all to Junhoe. Couldn’t believe he’d gone that far. It felt good to unload, though, to bring it all up again and tell someone about it. It’s not that he actively hid his past. He just preferred to not bring it up. Sometimes it was good to rehash old hurts, though, just to make sure that you were healing. And though it still hurt to think about those times, it didn’t hurt as much as it had in the past. 

“I’ve been thinking about trying again, with my mom. Trying to get her to accept it and stop being so against it, at least. Every time I’ve tried before, I never approached it the way I should have. I just yelled and tried to guilt her into supporting me, like some whiny, entitled kid. I always tried to make her feel bad, instead of acknowledging that I understood what she’d gone through with my dad.” 

“You shouldn’t have to do that, though. How many years has it been since the divorce? Your mom should have figured out her problems by now and apologized to you.” While it was nice that Jinhwan seemed to be so mature about the situation, Junhoe didn’t think he should have to be, and it didn’t really seem fair to him. 

“Pain doesn’t just go away that easily,” Jinhwan replied, and he hoped he could make Junhoe understand. It was difficult to accept that kind of mindset when nothing bad had ever happened in your life, though. “She spent years being miserable with my dad. It takes a long time to get over stuff like that, especially if you just bury it instead of deal with it. Burying problems is kind of a family trait.” 

Junhoe didn’t necessarily agree with Jinhwan, but then he’d never really been in a bad situation before. The worst thing that had ever happened to him was the few months after he’d come out as gay, but he’d had Hanbin through all of that, so he hadn’t actually been alone. Maybe he just didn’t understand. 

“Like I said before, I’m not trying to make excuses for her. But what’s the point in sitting here and talking about what she should have done? It won’t change what did happen. She’s probably still clinging to a lot of pain about the divorce, I don’t think she ever talked to anyone about it. I just want her to know that I understand how she’s feeling. I want her to know that I don’t blame her for not being there for me. I think that might help her come around.” He forced himself to take a bite of his food before it got cold, even though his appetite had receded a bit with the conversation. 

“Ever since Seiyeon came to watch me, I just,” Jinhwan paused, taking a deep breath to control his breathing, “I just really want her to come. I want her to be able to watch me fight and not think about dad, or grandpa. I want her to just think about me, and to realize that it makes me happy. I want that to be enough.” 

Junhoe wasn’t sure what to say. Wasn’t sure if there even was anything he could say. This was such a different side to Jinhwan than he was used to seeing, mature and emotional and thoughtful. It made his heart ache a little, made him feel even closer to him than he already felt. Clearly Jinhwan must be feeling it too, if he’d divulged everything. Junhoe was at talking, though, so if there was an appropriate response to the conversation, he’d never think of it. Instead he reached out for Jinhwan’s hand, squeezing it tightly and hoping that would help in some small way. 

Jinhwan didn’t say anything else. The hardest part of it all was what he’d just said. As much as the past hurt, it was already over, already dealt with. But worrying about the future was the most painful part. Acknowledging a level that he wanted to reach with his mom, but not knowing for certain if it could ever be attained. That was the scary part. Would he be walking on eggshells forever, or had he learned enough over the past few months to finally achieve the result he was so desperate for? 

Dwelling on what could happen wasn’t worth it, though. He couldn’t allow himself to be dragged down by it constantly. He was going to try again, but until he sat down face to face with his mother, he couldn’t spend his days obsessing over it. That wouldn’t help. 

With that decided he looked up at Junhoe, who was still staring at him. Jinhwan was surprised by the look—a mixture of worry, sadness, and even affection. It was nice to see someone looking at him like that again, but it was ill-timed. He had to remember that. Letting this get too far would only hurt when he left. He squeezed Junhoe’s hand back before withdrawing it. 

“Thanks for listening to all of that,” Jinhwan said, “I know it was pretty heavy.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty strong,” Junhoe replied, hoping that Jinhwan wouldn’t be offended by his half joke. He could do humour and anger well, but anything else got him really uncomfortable. 

Jinhwan grinned at him though. “Stronger than you look,” he teased back, “but I mean it. I haven’t told anyone everything I’ve told you. Bobby knows about what happened with my family, but we haven’t talked about it in a while, not since I’ve changed my mind about some things, at least. So it was nice, telling someone who didn’t know all the details.” 

Junhoe felt relieved with his response. “Well, consider yourself lucky, because I’m usually a pretty crappy listener.” 

“I can’t say that surprises me,” Jinhwan replied, before picking his chopsticks back up and pulling his food closer to him. “Sorry I interrupted our meal, too. I hope it didn’t get too cold.” 

Junhoe took a bite of the beef. “It’s still warm, we’re okay. Just eat fast.” For some reason that made Jinhwan laugh, and Junhoe was happy to hear it. All traces of unhappy feelings left the table then, and they went back to their usual banter. 

But Junhoe wasn’t going to forget the discussion, wasn’t going to forget Jinhwan’s story. He wondered if that had anything to do with his refusal to date right now. Wondered if there was anything he could do to help him get over it all. He normally didn’t try to take an active part in anyone else’s problems, but the more time he spent with Jinhwan, the more he was starting to realize how much he liked him. Should he bring up their status, try to figure out the reason why Jinhwan didn’t want to date? Maybe he should just leave it, though. They’d gotten through one heavy conversation, no need for a second so soon. Besides, they practically  were dating, except they just weren’t calling it that. Maybe he just needed to enjoy it without thinking of what could happen. He still had a lot of things to experience, after all. Maybe it was best to do it all with no expectations.