“Sometimes I don’t even know why I joined Super Junior...why I even debuted”

“Heechul, what are you talking about?” Hankyung asks, but he takes a pretty good guess at the reason.

“I can’t ing sing or dance, everything I say gets criticized, why the do I have to take all this just to be in this band!?” He slams his fist against the wall, short angered breaths mixed with the frustration in the air.

Hankyung on the other hand is unexpectedly calm. He knows how much Heechul has gone through. His outspoken personality and dangerous mouth, both aspects that he loves and admires, give this man a lot of misery.

“So you want to quit? File some sort of lawsuit and break the contract?”

Heechul turns to him.

“You know I’m not afraid to.” His tone is serious and threatening.

Almost to the point of running, Hankyung moves towards him and quickly pulls him into a tight embrace, keeping Heechul’s shoulders locked in his arms and chest pressed against his.

“You’re not good at singing or dancing, but we all need you.” He whispers into Heechul’s ear.

His breath sends chills down his spine and warmth beneath his chest. Heechul doesn’t ignore the fact that “we” includes Hankyung as well, if not representing him entirely. What could he do then? If Hankyung says he needed him, how could he ever leave? He brings his hands up to meet Hankyung’s lower back and buries his face in Hankyung’s neck, taking in his scent. Maybe Super Junior will be without Kim Heechul one day, but today isn’t it, because Hankyung…here is where Hankyung is.

Little does he know that when it comes to leaving, Hankyung does it best.

***

In many ways, Hankyung is like a meteor, Heechul thinks. He came into Heechul’s life unexpectedly as a bright, foreign, captivating star. He was admirable, and beautiful, but only within reach for a split second. If you could see a shooting star and feel your heart pound at its presence, it only means you couldn’t ever have it, because before you could realize exactly what it was, it’s already gone. It would always land miles away from you, only leaving you with a memory, a faint trace of proof that tells you it really did exist. Although amazing while they lasted, meteors always disappear.

Hankyung did exactly that. He disappeared without warning. Heechul woke up one morning only to find out that Hankyung left. Left the company, left Super Junior, left him. He landed miles away.

***

The first week, he is angry. Angry at Hankyung for leaving, angry at him for not telling anyone about it, and angry at his agency for making him want to leave. Most of all, he is angry that he couldn’t stop him. He wasn’t even given a chance to hold him and tell him how much he was needed. He is left ignorant and confused along with everyone else when he thought things were different between the two of them.

Trembling hands gripping the phone, Heechul’s thumb taps a familiar name on the screen. It’s a long distance number that takes preparation and courage to punch in. His stomach sinks with each repeated ringing on the line, fearing over the amount of self control he will have once the ringing stops and is replaced by something more human.

Heechul never thought he could feel such emotion just listening to a voice over the phone. He isn’t sure how a gentle, weak, and apologetic voice from thousands of miles away somehow pierces straight through his chest.

“I’m sorry...for so many things.”

Hearing it from Hankyung is much, much more painful than what he is prepared for.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear!” He tries to hold back the tears he isn’t used to. He can’t show weakness now, not when Hankyung is able to just ing leave him like this, no matter how sorry he sounded.

“…”

Heechul couldn’t believe how selfish Hankyung is. When he wanted to leave the company, wasn’t Hankyung the one who made him stay? How could he be so hypocritical now and leave everything behind?

“Tell me why”

The pause feels like it lasted for minutes.

“…I…I couldn’t stay in Korea forever.” A terrible reason that doesn’t really answer the question. He doesn’t tell Heechul about his liver disease, the constant thoughts of his aging parents, his need for self discovery, or his growing depression.

 “That’s it?”

“…”

“What about…”

What about us?

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but Hankyung hears it, clear as air and incredibly deafening. Truth is he’s been hearing it over and over again in his own head ever since he walked out of that apartment door.

“I’m sorry” is all Hankyung could say as tears roll past his lashes and wet his cheeks. He covers his mouth in an attempt to muffle a sob. “But we’ll always be…good friends.”

His chest heaves as the last two words send Heechul’s world crashing on top of him, blunt truth eating away at the hopeful expectations that were secretly built up throughout the years, and his stomach clenches into an impossible knot. Hankyung is right, and Heechul almost laughs at himself for wanting something more. He manages to sound out a weak chuckle. It’s a good thing no one could see how utterly pitiful his expression looks.

“Yeah. Good Friends.” Heechul’s voice breaks at the last word as it echoed in his mind. “Come visit when you’re married…Han Geng.”

And that was that, the call ends with good friends on…good terms. But the bitterness of goodbyes and something else does not subside for Heechul.

***

The next few days, weeks, months, grow long. He spends nights drinking alone and days locked up in his room with Heebum and although he had always liked being alone with his cat, he finds it harder and harder to talk to anyone. The members all get it, and accept the fact that cheering him up is impossible.

 He gets drunk and memories do blur, but they always come rushing back along with the headache the next morning. He uses this as an excuse to cancel his activities for the day and lies on his bed to stare at the ceiling, even ignoring Heebum.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but time passes slowly and he’s trapped in it, not able to let go of the misery but forgets what his own voice sounds like having confined himself in the four walls of his room without speaking to anyone. A soft “Hankyung” is whispered and he reminds himself why he doesn’t want to hear it anyway.

He wonders how he had become like this. A pitiful, depressed, and broken man caught between memories and reality, illusions and truth. He tries to remember who he was before they met, how he had lived without Hankyung before when he was younger, but all he could remember are the sad eyes, the gentle hands, the soothing voice, and fried rice.

He is tired during the day and relieved when the burn of alcohol meets his throat again at night. He only comes out to eat or restock on soju and beer when he sees the bottles are empty. When his head doesn’t kill him, he sits and writes. His fingertips tremble but never stop typing even when his vision blurs and he tastes salt on his tongue.

Heechul was not supposed to be this man. Heechul was a man who lived with no regrets. But now, he wonders how things could be different, he wonders why he couldn’t see the path they were on before it crumbled, how he couldn’t sense Hankyung’s melancholy, or if Hankyung’s mind would have changed if three particular words had actually been said. Probably not, he thinks, but he regrets taking the time he had with Hankyung for granted, naively thinking that it would last ever.

The thought that things didn’t have to be this way if he had been less of a coward taunts him. Because now, Kim Heechul, the one who couldn’t squeeze a single tear when filming a sad scene, can’t seem to dry his eyes fast enough.

The days become meaningless cycles that never seem to end, and he’s alive without really living.

***

He tries to leave, too. He tells the members, though they all predicted it.

Heechul gets dressed in something that’s not his pajamas for the first time in weeks, and checks his hair in the bathroom mirror before deciding that the occasion wasn’t worth styling it anyway. He ignores the shadows under his eyes that formed from lack of sleep and the fact that he looked shades paler than the last time he checked himself in the mirror.

He walks out into the living space, mind completely set and reckless, only to find Hyukjae sitting beside the small table…where it used to occupy someone else two months ago.

Hyukjae immediately stiffens as Heechul treads closer and stands up awkwardly, his lips are pressed together and his anxious eyes never leave Heechul’s face. Heechul counts the worry lines on Hyukjae’s forehead.

“When’d you get in here?” he asks, because he knows why he’s here.

Each member took turns. He guesses that it’s Hyukjae’s turn now, and hopefully it will be over with soon because, really, he doesn’t expect as much pleading from Hyukjae since they were never exactly very close.

“I’ve been here for a while, waiting for hyung.”

“Look Lee Hyukjae, I didn’t make this decision overnigh-“

“Hyung isn’t good at singing or dancing!”

…

Heechul falls silent. He would have been incredibly insulted by both the interruption and Hyukjae’s words, but instead he hears it in a different voice, one he’s heard before and Hyukjae sends him a year back in time.

“Hyung isn’t good at singing or dancing, but we all need you.”

Hyukjae is crying by now, but Heechul is living in the past. The words are too familiar, the situation a splitting image except for the person speaking. Everything that he’s been trying so hard to forget now violently crashes against him. The memories come flooding back, Heechul becomes submerged in it, and for a minute the room is still.

They all shared a dream. Those thirteen boys who worked until their muscles ached and shirts were drenched with sweat, who no one believed would make it to the top of the industry. A year ago, Hankyung told him to hold on to this dream, because he somehow made it a little more real for everyone else, they each did. Now Hankyung has abandoned their dream, but maybe that only means Heechul has to hold on even tighter, so that one day their paths can cross again. Heechul’s breath runs out and his lungs burn to seek the air above the water.

When he finally resurfaces, a weak smile tugs at the corners of Heechul’s lips. Hyukjae or Hankyung, then and now, he is needed. There are still people who depend on him, love him, and need him to stay.

And so he does. For Hyukjae, for Jungsoo, Donghae, Sungmin, Siwon, Kyuhyun, Ryewook, Jongwoon, Kibum, Shindong, Youngwoon, for the brotherhood, the dream, and the fact that he isn’t Hankyung.

***

The lights dim and Heechul grasps Jungsu and Kyuhyun’s hands as they all bow to the crowd. The night is black and from where he’s standing, Heechul can’t see any stars.

He doesn’t heal, but it slowly gets better every day, though Heechul knows that he will never be the same. He does what he has to, he smiles for the camera when absolutely necessary, he tries to find the part of himself that Hankyung took with him to China, and show everyone that that part of him never really left…but it did.

The efforts have little use but Heechul thinks that maybe he hears Hankyung’s voice less and less every passing day, maybe he doesn’t appear as frequently in his dreams, maybe his heartbeat is no longer erratic in anticipation whenever his phone rings and less disappointed when the caller is not who he’d hoped, and maybe, Korean food tastes better than Beijing fried rice.

But when he thinks he will be okay, the night always comes…and he still looks for shooting stars.

***

He pinches his own wrist. It hurts. He does it again to his cheek, and winces at the pain.

 If it’s hurting then that only means it’s real, all of this is real, he thinks as he stares at the text message displayed on the screen of his phone.

I’m in Seoul.

Heechul pulls on whatever clothing he had on yesterday, not having enough time to pick out a new outfit, and dashes out the door before he sends a reply.

Street?

***

Hankyung is so close, just a few metres, but he never felt so…foreign. Heechul watches him quietly as the cameras and crewmen surrounded Hankyung, not knowing that they were in the presence of Super Junior’s Kim Heechul.

Hankyung looked different. He’s gained weight, Heechul decides, and he looks comfortable speaking Chinese with the workers. But at the same time, he is exactly the same. The way his eyes arches when he smiles (although it isn’t as bright as Heechul remembered), the musical sound of his laugh, the way his body flowed when he dances. Heechul wonders if his skin feels the same too, or if his mouth tastes the same as it used to.

As soon as the cameras stop rolling, Hankyung returns Heechul’s stare with more urgency and smile stretches across his face. His eyes almost turn into slits and finally, the smile is brighter than the summer sun that’s burning their skin. Heechul mirrors it.

In seconds Heechul finds himself crushed by an embrace. It feels unreal so he closes his eyes and grips Hankyung’s back tighter, never getting enough of this man. He stops breathing because he can’t but doesn’t want to let go even if his bones were to break between Hankyung’s arms and body. Hankyung smells of sweat and hair spray, but Heechul breathes it all in because it only means he’s here and real. They stay like that for more than necessary, noses pressed into necks and chest against chest, Heechul’s foot between Hankyung’s.

***

“I miss you already.”

They walk side by side without touching, the Han River runs alongside them as they step into the shadow under the outstretching bridge. The river looks different during the day, as Hankyung once commented years ago, no reflections of colourful lights in the blackness of night.

“I’m here.”

“You won’t be at the end of the day”

The two of them alone by the shore, Hankyung takes Heechul hand, unable to deny the unfortunate truth in his words. He doesn’t know what to say or how to make it up to Heechul, but he accepts the fact that he may never be truly forgiven.

The contact, for once, makes Heechul stiff. He turns to look at Hankyung, refusing to let the tears blur his vision. He wants to see, to take as much of Hankyung in as he can before the time comes again.

“Did you ever wish we could go back? Back in time?” Hankyung asks as his own eyes start to look glossy.

Heechul decides there’s no point in lying now.

“Every day for the past two months”

Nails dig into palms. A quick subtraction and Hankyung knows exactly when that was. He turns his body to face him, giving in to the tears rolling down his face, whispers a strained “Heechul”, and leans in.

For a few seconds their faces are inches apart. Both hesitate to close the distance, but couldn’t find it in themselves to pull away either. Sharing the same breath, it is Heechul who lets himself be selfish and fall into Hankyung’s mouth.

Insane, the both of them driven by the other. Hands grab onto clothing, fingers leaving marks on skin through the fabric, and it’s not enough but it’s as far as they go. Their mouths pull apart, only to fall back onto each other as the buzz of the city ring in their ears. Hankyung’s tears are smeared over Heechul’s cheek just as Heechul runs his fingers through Hankyung’s hair, ruining the work of his stylist.

The kiss never lasts long enough, but now Heechul knows for a fact that yes, Hankyung still tastes the same.

***

“I have to go back”

Heechul sees the sky in the water, the setting sun painting it a bright orange, gradually fading into a greater pink. The day is coming to an end. Hesitantly, he lets Hankyung slip his fingers out from between his knuckles.

This is it. After today, they would go their separate ways once again. The thought tugs at a particular place within Heechul’s ribs. Hankyung steps back but doesn’t turn, as if waiting for Heechul to say a proper goodbye, or give him an excuse to stay. 

A sudden impulse is all it takes for Heechul to draw a deep breath and prepare himself to finally let it out. The words he’d never said. Maybe then, they’d both be free.

Or become more entangled, Heechul thinks. Hankyung’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and Heechul finds the last amount of courage he needs. Kim Heechul says what he wants. He’ll deal with the consequences later.  Just let it out…now or never.

“Hankyung, I…”

But just as the words are about to escape his lips, he shuts them.

He shuts them because he sees Hankyung’s brighter complexion, rounder face, pinker lips, and his radiating confidence, and knows that all of it would go away if he says it. His family, his home, a solo career, a child, Heechul can’t give him any of it. Heechul isn’t what’s best for him; China is what Hankyung really needs.

 In the end, he can’t bring himself to be selfish to the end…

So Hankyung does instead.

“I loved you”

Hankyung says it, says it in the past tense. Maybe because that’s all they can ever be for each other. A past. There is no place for Heechul in Hankyung’s tomorrow, at least not the way they want. Heechul doesn’t remember when he stopped breathing.

***

The sun is on the verge of disappearing over the edge of the city horizon. Being certain that Hankyung is too far to be able to see, Heechul let’s himself cry at last.

He tries to convince himself that he’s crying from joy. Joy that Hankyung is as famous in China as Heechul is in Korea, that Hankyung will one day get married and think of him at the altar, that maybe one day he’ll have the chance to visit a particular dumpling shop in Beijing.

My Shanghai love, my Chinaman, my Mr.Beijing Fried Rice.

Maybe in the next life, Heechul will be daring enough to say “I’m still in love with you.”

But in this one, he only watches Hankyung walk away for what he thinks may be the last time.

“In another life, Hankyung…I will make you stay.”

Tonight, the sky is starless.

A/N:  I hope no one was expecting a happy ending. I'm still crying over these two and how the real Heechul still can't forget about hankyung T nT

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