“What is this?!” Sungmin yelled, slamming a creamy white envelope down on the table top. His face was flushed bright red, doe eyes vehement.

Mir jumped, looking up at his friend. “I’ve missed you too,” he muttered, quickly adding, “the wedding invitation?”

“Yes, did you get one?” he snapped.

The young man shook his head, but then turned and pointed at the person strolling towards them, “But Dongwoon can bring one guest.”

“Hmm? What about me, sweetie?” Dongwoon draped an arm across Mir’s shoulders, smiling fondly down at him.

Sungmin opened his mouth to continuing ranting when a hand slammed over his face, garbling the words. He flailed for a moment but then turned to see Minho staring down at him rather blatantly. “Is this how you greet your friends after so many years?” Minho questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Mir’s eyes fluttered wider in surprise. What he didn’t voice, Dongwoon did though, saying, “Since when have you been controlling Sungmin?” A smile played on his lips.

“He’s a Psych Graduate these days,” Sungmin muttered, sounding thoroughly exasperated by the fact, “I sort of miss the crazy kid who makes out with people in illegal clubs.”

Minho rolled his eyes, smirking and getting closer to the other man’s face, “I can still be like that if you want,” he his lips, “y’know, whenever you wanna go clubbing again.”

The one in question huffed silently, directing his attention back to Mir. In the meantime, Minho idled up behind Sungmin, arms sliding around his waist. He rested his head on shoulder, listening in on the conversation rather quietly.

“Right,” Sungmin cleared his throat, jabbing a finger at the wedding invitation, “did you read the name?” Mir nodded. “How come you aren’t more freaked out? I never thought Kyuhyun and Ryeowook were good together, but…but the story ends with them. It’s supposed to be like that. I can’t imagine him with anyone else.”

Dongwoon tilted his head almost sadly, “Sungmin, it’s been how many years since Ryeowook left? We’ve seen him since then too and I don’t think that things are the same anymore.” He waved vaguely in Sungmin’s direction, adding, “You and Minho are living together. Did you really think that that was even a possibility when we graduated from the academy so long ago?”

“Well,” he paused, itching to fight but finding no way to rebut that statement.

“And did you expect Mir and me to get married after college?”

Resounding yes’s followed.

Dongwoon grinned, cuddling up by his seated spouse, “Yeah, I just like telling people.”

Mir smiled softly, leaning his head on his husband’s shoulder. “Did you expect Taemin to start dating that teacher…Lee Jinki, I think?”

This time Sungmin actually laughed a little, “Actually, with the way he and Kikwang kept getting in the way of your relationship, I figured they would’ve dated.”

“I, in fact, did see it coming,” Minho remarked, only to be elbowed by Sungmin.

“You’re Taemin’s best friend, stop it,” the smaller man frowned, eyes twinkling cheerily nonetheless. He made a face when Minho kissed his cheek, but soon smiled.

“You’re right though,” Dongwoon stated, meeting Sungmin’s gaze, “I didn’t expect Kyuhyun to marry Donghae. That’s pretty weird. I thought they were just friends.”

“I guess we’ll see at the wedding,” he sighed, playing with the card stock for a moment longer, all signs of frustration fading away.

***

Kim Ryeowook smiled uneasily at the man offering him a bouquet of red roses. “Uhm…I’m sorry, really, because I don’t like you like that…?” He internally curled into a helpless ball. Turning people down had never been comfortable for Ryeowook, especially now as they were coming in greater numbers with less time between.

It was only because of his growing fame. All of those aspiring musicians had begun approaching him in hopes of winning him over and hopefully sending their careers sky-rocketing. After all, who better to try and woo, then a cute, young, little prodigy?

“But why? Haven’t we been getting along well at the recording studio? I thought you were feeling the same way,” the man’s voice was rising in volume, the flowers cast to the stone street.

Ryeowook bowed his head in apology, staying like that until the person had had enough and simply stalked off. Sighing, Ryeowook crouched down, picking up the crumbling red roses. They were still fresh and deep red, but…

His eyes scanned them slowly, fingertips brushing the delicate, velvet petals. “…They’re not the same,” he murmured.

“What’s not the same?” YoungSaeng prompted, leaning against the door frame of their shared home. He was gazing down at the stooped, younger man.

Ryeowook shook his head, gathering the abused roses and turning around to head back inside. “Don’t worry about it, hyung,” he said, “is Henry awake yet? He’s been sleeping all day.”

“I can go get him if you want,” YoungSaeng offered, still eyeing the younger fellow skeptically. “Wookie…you’ve read it already, haven’t you?”

His steps faltered and that was all it took for the elder to know he had guessed right.

“You’re not going to intervene? You’re going to let him marry someone else?”

Ryeowook shrugged after a long silence. “Donghae is better than me. I think Kyuhyun deserves him.”

“What bull—!”

“—Hyung?” Henry called, coming down the stairs drowsily. “Wookie-hyung? Do we have food?” he yawned, stretching and rubbing his eyes.

YoungSaeng gritted his teeth, shooting Ryeowook a look before going off to collect Henry in a comforting hug. “If you’re still tired, you didn’t have to wake up yet,” he said kindly, brushing some of the boy’s hair out of his face, “Ryeowook hasn’t finished dinner.”

“Oh?” Henry mumbled, resting against the young man’s broader body, “Okay…I get it…”

Ryeowook headed off to the kitchen without anymore words, deciding it would be best to get away before YoungSaeng could badger him again. The broken flowers were still in his hand, and he wondered for a brief moment why he hadn’t just left them on the ground.

It seemed to be impossible for him. Every suitor brought flowers, and every flower, no matter how rare or beautiful, just never tugged his heart forward. They were never the right shade of red, or the correct size…shape…stem length…calyx fullness – just never quite enough.

He poured water into a vase, taking out all of the good roses and setting them inside. Then, he placed the flowers on the side table where it would be out of sight, out of mind, but always there.

Later that night, Ryeowook stepped out of the bath, only to immediately run into YoungSaeng. He swiftly spun around, steadfastly heading for his bedroom.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and a voice sidled up by his ear, saying, “Let’s go out for a while, shall we?”

“Where to, hyung?” Ryeowook stuttered, trying to smile calmly even as his heart beat erratically.

“Over some countries, maybe a few smaller seas, and a bit of airport security,” he replied easily, “nothing too serious.” And then Ryeowook felt himself being dragged down the stairs, out the door, and into a cab where Henry was already waiting.

He looked around frantically only as the taxi pulled away from the curb and the situation sank in. “No, hyung I don’t want this!” he shouted, now scrambling to open the door and clamber over YoungSaeng. He would be smart enough to put Ryeowook in the middle.

“He’s getting married tomorrow night and you’re telling me that you’re okay with that?” YoungSaeng snapped, pushing Ryeowook back against the seat. “I haven’t mentioned it until now because I kept hoping you would start thinking clearly but all you’ve been doing is brooding over ing flowers and his magazine articles! If you’re so hopelessly in love with this kid, then you shouldn’t be sitting around acting like it’s any other normal night.”

Ryeowook was silent, trying to figure out what to say to that.

“Wookie-hyung,” Henry said softly, taking the older male’s hand, “it’ll be okay. YoungSaeng-hyung just wants you to be able to have the choice of stopping the wedding. He’s not telling you that you have to.”

“He might as well be doing just that,” Ryeowook muttered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Running away…coming back…ruining his wedding…you really think he’s going to want me after all of that?”

No one answered. It was already too late anyway. They were on their way, and soon they would be on that flight back home.

***

So don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up on me.

Don’t find someone else. Don’t take your heart and give it away. I want your heart. I want your heart for me and me alone.

But…why am I saying goodbye?

I wish I knew.

Cho Kyuhyun folded the ragged letter up, tucking it in the pocket of his tuxedo. “It’s been seven years,” he thought aloud, tilting his head to the high above ceiling, “how am I supposed to keep hoping for you? How many memories do I have to recycle before I can see you in person?”

There were enough pictures of Ryeowook out there, playing his music all across the world, making friends, and producing CDs. Kyuhyun had also seen the handful of articles about people approaching Ryeowook and every time he reached the end of the story, he would smile at the words “rejected”.

But that just wasn’t enough.

In seven years, he hadn’t received one call, text, message, or visit. What was he going to do? Was he expected to wait and wait and wait until he was on his death bed? Would Ryeowook come see him then?

“Kyuhyun?” The door clicked open and Donghae came inside, dressed in a white suit and looking as handsome as ever. “Can we talk?” He asked, coming up to join his friend on the window’s cushiony ledge.

“About what?” Kyuhyun prompted.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Donghae blurted.

“Getting married?”

He nodded.

“I don’t have anyone else I’d rather get married to,” Kyuhyun replied casually, “and you don’t one either, at least, not since Kibum back in high school.”

Donghae made a helpless face, clenching and unclenching his hands. “But Kyu, even if that’s the case, we’re both still young…sort of. You could always fly to wherever Ryeowook is and—”

“—and what?” he cut in, “Keep giving myself to him when he already has me? I don’t even know where he lives. He’s always moving around because of his music. I can’t spend time backpacking through Europe hoping that just maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of him!”

“…but…,” Donghae wanted to say more but there was another knock at the door.

A tall, somewhat stressed looking woman peeked inside, saying, “You’re getting married now, so please head downstairs.” And then she slammed the door shut.

Kyuhyun exchanged a look with Donghae. “Why did we hire her?”

“Neither of us really wanted to plan a wedding.”

“…so we’re doing this?”

Donghae hesitated but then stood up, walking towards the door first, “We have a few more minutes so think about it a little more, Kyuhyun.” Then the door was opening and closing for a second time.

But he didn’t think about it. He just sat there, looking down at the guests assembling themselves outside on the church’s lawn…

Sungmin gaped, eyes locked on the figure drifting through the crowds of people. “No…really…?” he breathed. Minho stopped kissing his lover’s neck, slightly annoyed at the obvious lack of attention. He followed Sungmin’s line of sight, trying to figure out what could possibly be more important than their time together.

“Is that…?” Minho backed off, getting to his feet. He ran up behind the curiously sight-seeing Ryeowook, sweeping him off his feet in a widely swinging hug. “, it’s really you!” he cried, setting the bright eyed, flushed young man back on the ground. Minho cupped Ryeowook’s face in his hands, smothering his small face in dozens of kisses.

“What are you doing?” Ryeowook giggled, trying to push the overzealous person off. “Minho, I missed you too!” he said, eyes squeezing shut against the childish barrage of affection.

Sungmin tore Minho off of Ryeowook, pulling the latter into a suffocating hug. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you been back in three years?” his voice was muffled in Ryeowook’s shirt, arms shaking.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a low tone, gently rubbing Sungmin’s back, “I’ve been busy…”

“We’re more important,” the black haired beauty whined.

“I’ll be around more, I promise,” Ryeowook smiled, squeezing his friend once more and he would’ve continued to do so if it weren’t for the appearance of Dongwoon and Mir, and finally, the sound of wedding music starting.

People gathered and seated themselves, anticipating the appearance of the day’s main characters. Ryeowook was the only one who didn’t move though. His limbs were frozen and no matter how hard Sungmin and Minho tried to usher him into a seat, he wouldn’t move.

He couldn’t bring himself to sit and watch it all happen. But stopping it wasn’t an option either. At the beginning, YoungSaeng had convinced him that it would be alright, and that Ryeowook would know exactly what he wanted when the time came, but now the time had come and he knew he couldn’t do it.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Ryeowook whispered, running away again. No one could stop him this time either.

He strode past the bustling people, ignoring their looks and only focusing on that road and his waiting taxi. It had been a precaution. Ryeowook already knew he wouldn’t hurt Kyuhyun – not after he had found happiness.

So he knocked on the taxi’s window, and then opened the backseat.

A hand flew out, yanking him roughly into the car, door slamming shut with him. Ryeowook crashed into a warm body. Long, smooth fingers snatched his chin, lifting it up and smashing his lips against the lopsided young man.

Dark eyes found Ryeowook’s as the kiss slowed and ended. Breathlessly, he brushed aside Ryeowook’s hair, “You can’t use the same trick on me twice.”

Kyuhyun closed his eyes tightly, resting his forehead against the other man’s. “I hate you. I never want to see your face ever again. You’re worthless. You’re the worst human being alive.” He softly left his lips drift across Ryeowook’s, “But because you love me, that’s all okay.”

“Kyu?” Ryeowook cried, silent tears spilling down his cheeks, “Kyuhyun? Kyuhyun?” he curled his fingers in the man’s shirt, pulling closer as he broke into sobs. “Kyuhyun…Kyu,” the name falling from his lips over and over again.

“I didn’t give up,” he kissed the corner of Ryeowook’s mouth, thumb running tenderly across one flushed, wet cheek, “you can’t disappear this time,” Kyuhyun held him even tighter, “you have no excuse to walk away again.”

“Why didn’t you give up?” he buried his face in Kyuhyun’s shoulder, arms tangling around his neck. “You were going to m-marry someone e-else…,” Ryeowook pressed his lips to the inside of the other’s throat, wanting nothing more than to let the past seven years gush out. He craved the scent, and the skin, but most importantly, the voice whispering in his ear.

Kyuhyun couldn’t get him closer, he wanted him closer, but they were already straining. “It was never like that,” he assured, hands searching and seeking the body that hadn’t been around, “it would never be like that.”

The smaller man didn’t appear to really be listening as he said, “W-Will you marry me instead?” he whimpered, “Do you r-really hate me? Kyuhyun…Kyu…,” Ryeowook was whining then, sniffling and squeezing himself to the taller man.

“Give me your hand,” Kyuhyun smiled against his jaw, chuckling when Ryeowook refused to budge. “I love you enough to wait seven years,” he lifted his eyes to the driver, telling him to take them to the airport.

“W-Where are we going?” Ryeowook mumbled, reluctantly loosening his grip on Kyuhyun.

He rearranged the boy in his lap so he could pull out a pair of plane tickets, smirking very faintly. “I’d prefer to go on a honeymoon with you, than Donghae.”

Then he was crying again and running his shaking fingers across the contours of Kyuhyun’s face, eyes memorizing every redefined feature and every long since missed imperfection. Ryeowook lowered his head, lips tugging up in a natural smile. “…Can we really be doing this…?”

Kyuhyun lifted Ryeowook’s face up, “Enough double-ing-guessing. I know what you want. And I know what I want…now.” His eyelids lowered; a feral grin flashing as he tilted slightly to the right, “Kiss me, Ryeowook.”   

And then it wasn’t about the past anymore. They weren’t struggling to organize their feelings because at that moment, Ryeowook knew that this was the moment YoungSaeng had been talking about. You can’t neatly line up emotions. You also can’t explain certain actions, certain feelings, certain…anything.

That was why, after seven years, they were interlocked not in a world only meant for them, but one that had grown and changed.

There were other people around them now, waiting around, getting involved, making mistakes, and saving them. But then again…

“I’m the only one, Ryeowook,” Kyuhyun whispered, smirking and bringing their lips back together.

…it could be alright to ditch the world for a while. 

The End.