The doorbell rings shrill through still air in their home. Morning light breaks through every open window, flooding the house in its warmth. A couple of knocks come to the front door, three steady raps on heavy wood. “Coming!” calls Jongin, age making socked feet drag a little against the parquet.

Wrinkled hands curl around the doorknob and Jongin pulls the door open to reveal a pair of friends, a pair of smiles. “Hi,” he greets, smile etched on his lips. The shorter of his two visitors doesn’t hesitate (or bother with formalities) and immediately steps forward to wrap Jongin up in a hug that doesn’t really match his age in strength. “Baekhyun,” Jongin splutters, “You’re going to kill me, let me go.”

Baekhyun laughs and lets go of Jongin, stepping back to let Chanyeol grip the youngest’s hand in a friendly shake. “Are we the first ones here?” he asks, and Jongin nods, inviting them in.

“Sehun and Jongdae should be here soon,” says Jongin, glancing outside one last time before he shuts the door. Baekhyun and Chanyeol immediately find their way to the living room couch, settling themselves comfortably as Jongin brings them drinks.

Silence settles in the atmosphere around them until Baekhyun finishes his drink, glass skittering against the metal coaster, tinny sound breaking the quiet. He his lips and rests his elbows on his knees.

“How is Kyungsoo?”



 

Jongin is twenty-five when they first meet. The club he’s in is dark, strobe lights shooting colours into the crowd. Too many bodies together magnifies the heat Jongin feels seeping through his cotton tshirt, pulling a thin sheen of sweat onto his skin. He’s propped up against the bar, eyeing the rest of the crowd, Sehun sitting on a stool at his side.

“See anyone you like?” asks Sehun, his shout just barely audible over the noise.

Jongin shakes his head. “Not yet, man,” he replies. It isn’t the truth. The truth is, he isn’t even really looking. He’s only twenty-five and yet - all of this, it all seems someaningless to him. The same routine, weekend after weekend. It goes like clockwork - Sehun dragging him to a club, them downing a couple of drinks, Sehun finding a suitable partner for the night and Jongin trusting him not to get murdered or kidnapped.

He’s tired of it.

It doesn’t take long until he finds an escape. A woman with slender hips and shiny hair makes her way towards them, eyes predatory, smile somewhat lecherous. She ignores Jongin altogether and proceeds to chat up Sehun, granting the former a golden opportunity to slip away. Jongin gives Sehun a thumbs up and mouths a silent I’ll be leaving now before he makes his way to the exit, glad for the chance to go home and get some rest.

Midnight air, Jongin thinks, always has a calming nature to it. He feels it brush over his skin, cooling him as he makes his way back to his apartment. The moon hangs in the sky, halfway obscured by wisps of cloud, casting faded shadows on the ground. Jongin’s too busy watching the way his shadows grow larger the closer he gets to street lamps to notice a man running in his direction, looking up only a heartbeat before they collide and the back of his head meets somewhat cruelly with the pavement.

“,” he curses, frowning as he feels the back of his head. That’s going to bruise, he thinks, and he’ll have to sleep on his stomach tonight if the pain he feels now is any indication. He’s about to give his assailant a piece of his mind when the man pulls him in a sitting position, the change making the light fall across his face.

“,” Jongin breathes again.

This guy is cute.

“I’m so sorry,” says the man, apologising as he looks Jongin over and winces when he sees the way Jongin’s clutching at the back of his head. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you want me to take you to the hospital, I work there,” he says, all in a rush, and Jongin only now notices the lab coat the man’s got slung over his shoulders, the way his hands move expertly to check him over for bruises.

“No, I’m fine,” mumbles Jongin, previous rage completely forgotten. “You looked like you were in a hurry earlier. You should go,” he urges, heart screaming at him to stop, what is he doing, this guy was so cute.

“Are you sure? I feel really bad, I don’t normally run people over in the dead of night like this,” says the man, guilt riding on the waves of his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Seriously, don’t worry about it. You said you work at the hospital, right? You really should go,” says Jongin, struggling to keep his voice even. He’s a good ten years past puberty, but sometimes his throat still likes to play tricks on him.

The man in front of him looks conflicted, and Jongin wants to smack himself upside the head for finding that look of worry adorable. “If you get any major headaches or anything, please don’t hesitate to give me a call,” he says, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket and scribbling something on it quickly. He tears the page out and hands it to Jongin, something of an uncertain smile on his face. “I’m gonna go now. Sorry again,” he says, about to leave before Jongin’s hand shoots out of its own accord, fingers wrapping around the man’s wrist.

“Wait,” he says, the man’s eyebrows shooting up into his hair. Jongin himself isn’t entirely sure what’s making him do this.

“Yes?” asks the man, already getting a little jittery. He’s going to be so late.

“Um - I’m Jongin,” manages Jongin shyly, mentally punching himself in the gut for possibly coming across like a shy schoolgirl.

The man only smiles, calm washing over his face in place of nerves.

“I’m Kyungsoo.”



 

Jongin’s mouth goes dry. His throat becomes layered in sandpaper, and he can’t seem to draw his voice out. He wants to say same as he’s always been, but he knows it isn’t true. Kyungsoo isn’t the same Kyungsoo he was years ago, isn’t even the same Kyungsoo he was the last time Baekhyun and Chanyeol saw him.

In fact, he thinks, Kyungsoo’s only stayed the same to him.

He’ll always be the same Do Kyungsoo that mowed him down that night outside the club, but he’s far from that person to all the other people in his life.

The doorbell rings again, and Jongin gets up to go answer it.

Baekhyun’s question goes unanswered.



 

Dating a doctor, as it turns out, is an exhausting experience in itself. Jongin finds himself bending and curving around Kyungsoo’s schedule just to get a dinner out of him, exhausted kisses and hugs the best he can hope for after a long shift that ends when the sun begins to peek out again.

Some mornings he doesn’t even manage to crack his eyes open before Kyungsoo’s out the door again, a hasty good morning pressed silent between their lips before he leaves.

It’s hard, and it’s tiring, but on the occasions when Kyungsoo actually gets to stay home when Jongin’s off work makes it all worth it.

“You’re okay with all of this, right?” asks Kyungsoo, one Wednesday night when he’s draped across Jongin on the latter’s couch, Sehun having checked out for the night. They have a movie on in front of them, one with subtitles they don’t bother to read. They’re happy for the noise the television makes, but Kyungsoo’s happier that he has Jongin’s heartbeat under his ear.

“Okay with what?” asks Jongin, eyes glued to the screen, brain faintly piecing together what little English he knows. It’s a game he likes to play: he challenges himself not to read the subtitles, and Kyungsoo always rolls his eyes when the younger thinks he’s gotten a whole scene right.

“This - us. We’re working, right? You’re okay with my hours?” asks Kyungsoo shyly, voice a little quieter than before. He draws circles on Jongin’s arms, enjoying how his boyfriend’s fingers feel in his hair. This is what he’s always grateful for - the fact that, after a long and stressful day, he gets to come home to Jongin’s warmth, to his open arms.

Jongin frowns a little to himself. “Up,” he murmurs quietly, nudging Kyungsoo a little. Kyungsoo hesitates for only a moment before he pushes himself up, allows Jongin to sit next to him. Jongin takes a few long moments to stare at Kyungsoo’s face - how his lips are trembling petals of soft pink, how his cheeks are dusted in faint rose, how the light in his eyes flickers with the changing scenes on the television.

He moves one hand to brush against Kyungsoo’s cheek, and the elder just closes his eyes, leans in to that warmth.

“Are you happy?” asks Jongin, quietly. “Having me here waiting for you when you come home?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes fly open, panic inching into deep brown irises. His heartbeat picks up, but he knows to tell the truth. He can never lie, especially not to Jongin. “Yes,” he answers, voice dripping with honesty. He clenches his jaw, waits for Jongin to tell himwell, I’m not, waits for the younger to tell him this isn’t working out, he’s tired of this, it’s time to take a break.

He’s altogether surprised when the next thing he sees is Jongin’s face coming closer, when the next thing he feels is lips pressing softly against his forehead. Jongin pulls away slowly, a serene smile on his lips before he begins to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” asks Kyungsoo, still dazed.

“Your face. You look like I’ve just poisoned you,” splutters Jongin, and Kyungsoo pouts.

“It’s not funny. You sounded like you were ready to break up with me,” he whines, and Jongin’s laughter dies down a little. Jongin looks at him with eyes full of love, and Kyungsoo thinks he wouldn’t mind getting suffocated by it.

“I’d never break up with you,” says Jongin, and when he leans in Kyungsoo’s ready for the kiss, but he isn’t ready for how soft and slow and tender it is. Jongin kisses him like Kyungsoo’s made of porcelain - kisses him like he’s something infinitely precious, holds him firm in his arms and Kyungsoo can’t help but feel safe.

“I love you,” murmurs Kyungsoo when they finally pull away.

Jongin smiles.

“I love you too.”



 

“So where’s the birthday boy?” asks Sehun, rubbing his hands together when he sees the spread Jongin has laid out on the dining table. All his favourite food is there andnone of it would have been allowed him if he were at home with his wife. Cholesterol and diabetes be damned, today he was young again.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him in ages,” Jongdae says, settling himself in one of the armchairs in the living room. The stiffness of his back makes him groan once he sits down, the plush cushions a pleasant change from the unforgiving leather of his car. Why he let his son talk him into buying such a ridiculous thing, he’ll never understand.

“He’s upstairs, resting,” says Jongin quietly. There are nods all around, traces of words describing age and how it gets to people, how easily they themselves tire nowadays floating through the air. Jongin fixes a smile on his face and tries to calm his aging heart.

Please let Kyungsoo have a good time, he prays. 



 

Jongin asks Kyungsoo to marry him over dinner at the most unromantic restaurant in town.

Fluorescent lights shine overhead, loud music pumps through the speakers. Jongin finds himself struggling to hear Kyungsoo over the general noise in the restaurant, the other diners a little too free with their volumes. This is not the ideal place to ask the man of my dreams to marry me, he thinks, and he wishes he could have talked his past self out of coming here tonight. His nerves are already enough to get to him, now he has to put up with this terrible atmosphere.

“Jongin?” calls Kyungsoo, in a tone that would have been much too loud for a nicerestaurant, but was just audible in this one. “What’s wrong?” he asks. The music starts playing a softer song, and Jongin’s quick to grab this opportunity.

“Will you m - ” - the music starts up again - “ - arry me?” he asks, hoping Kyungsoo heard him.

“What?” asks Kyungsoo, frowning as he leans forward a little. Clearly, he did not.

“I said,” begins Jongin, volume climbing a little, “Will you marry me?” His question comes out loud and more of a shout than it is speaking, and it’s just his luck that the speakers in the restaurant give halfway and he’s bellowing at Kyungsoo amongst surprised silence.

Kyungsoo sits across from him, eyebrows raised, the centre of the attention of about thirty other diners. Jongin wants nothing more than to sink into a hole in the ground forever right now, but he thinks, well, he might as well get the job done.

He gets the ring out from his pants pocket, and gets out of his chair to get down on bended knee in front of Kyungsoo. “What do you say?” he asks sheepishly. Doubt begins to creep into the edges of his thoughts, but he shakes it away. This was probably the worst proposal ever, paled in comparison to all those videos he’d watched on YouTube, but - but if Kyungsoo could find it in his heart to say yes, Jongin thinks, none of the rest of the night would matter.

The whole world seems to be on pause as Jongin looks at Kyungsoo’s face, all activity around them falling away to a world where it’s just them, where Kyungsoo is the only person who matters in Jongin’s world.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Yes,” says Kyungsoo, grin breaking out across his features when he reaches for Jongin’s hand and pulls him into a kiss. The ring is all but forgotten until Jongin remembers to slip it onto Kyungsoo’s ring finger, earning another kiss that has the rest of the restaurant whooping.

“You didn’t have to shout,” mumbles Kyungsoo lowly, just in Jongin’s ear.

“What?” asks Jongin, not really able to hear his new fiance’s voice over the cheering.

“You didn’t have to shout,” Kyungsoo repeats, planting a kiss just below Jongin’s ear. “I heard you the first time.”

Kyungsoo pulls away to register the look of surprise on Jongin’s face, laughs against the younger’s lips when he kisses him again.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” Jongin complains, just loud enough for Kyungsoo to hear.

“I know.”



 

“I think it’s almost time for us to eat,” declares Baekhyun, a hand over his stomach. They’d spent the past half hour reminiscing about their younger days - Sehun’s wedding and how Kyungsoo almost messed up the lyrics to their first dance, Chanyeol’s 50th birthday and how the cake came at ten in the morning and melted by the time the party started - and had all built up a pretty steady appetite.

“I think so too,” agrees Chanyeol. He turns to look at Jongin. “Um… Do you want to go get Kyungsoo?” he asks, tentatively sounding his question.

Jongin presses his lips together and looks at all his friends. They all look like they’ve got hope glinting in their eyes and he wishes - hopes against hope itself - that those lights won’t all extinguish the moment Kyungsoo comes downstairs.

He wipes the worry from his face and smiles up at his guests.

“I’ll go get him.”



 

Their wedding day dawns in a haze of unexpected mist and chatter that carries a lot of the word finally, friends and family breathing a collective sigh of relief. Jongin and Kyungsoo have been engaged two whole years, everyone was starting to wonder if a wedding was ever going to come. Now it’s the morning of the most important day of their lives, and Jongin can’t set foot into the hotel.

“Jongin. What the are you doing.” Sehun asks, voice falling flat on dead ears. Jongin is frozen in front of the main entrance of the hotel, Sehun by his side, bones turned to lead and legs cemented to the ground. Other guests walk around him in order to get inside, and Sehun is five seconds away from shoving him through gilded doors himself.

“I can’t do it,” says Jongin slowly, eyes wide open and staring into the foyer of the hotel through glass doors. Sehun squints at him.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“I can’t do it, I can’t get married to him. Take me home.” His words come out in a jumbled flurry, and Sehun barely has any time to register them before Jongin turns on his heel and heads back towards the car.

“Wait - Jongin!” calls Sehun, running up to the elder. He plants both hands on both Jongin’s shoulders and yanks him back, almost choking the elder when his collar rides up with the force. He doesn’t say a word of apology and only spins Jongin around, forcing the elder to face him.

“What the , man?!” screeches Jongin, massaging his throat with a frown. There’s a gentle crease indented right between Sehun’s brows, and Jongin gulps - he’s in trouble.

“Where did you think you were going?” asks Sehun, reaching up to pinch Jongin’s ear, ignoring the elder’s yelp of pain. He steers a helpless Jongin straight to the hotel’s entrance, lets the doorman open it and gives him a little bow and thank you. “Your wedding is this way, you ing idiot.”

“That’s why I was going the other way!” Jongin squeaks, letting himself get dragged all the way into the elevator, where Sehun finally lets go of him. Jongin rubs his sore ear resentfully, pouting at his so-called ‘best man’. Best men aren’t meant to bodily harm you on your wedding day.

“Yes,” says Sehun, leaning against the wallpapered interior of the elevator. “But I am your best man and it’s my job to make sure you get to the aisle in one piece, no questions asked.” he adds the last words on a little darkly, and Jongin flinches when a cool, automated voice tells them they’ve reached floor 13.

“This is a bad omen, Sehun. The floor number itself yells bad luck!” Jongin protests, but doesn’t resist when Sehun tugs him out into the hallway. “I can’t do it!”

Right at that moment they turn a corner, and waiting there in front of Sehun’s room is Kyungsoo. He’s leaning against the room door as they arrive and he looks up in interest, owlish eyes staring right at the two. “Can’t do what?” he asks.

“I - um - ”

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” says Sehun. He slaps on the sweetest (and fakest) smile Jongin’s ever seen and drifts out of sight, leaving Jongin alone with Kyungsoo.

“Hi,” is all Jongin manages to say, nerves from a few minutes prior dissipating when Kyungsoo slings his arms around Jongin’s neck and pulls him close, leaning back against the closed door. Instinct has him pushing forward to press his forehead against Kyungsoo’s, and Jongin revels in how beautiful Kyungsoo looks this close, how his eyelashes curl against his cheeks when he shuts his eyes.

Not marrying Kyungsoo today, after having waited years, he realises now - would be a crime.

“What was it that you said you can’t do?” asks Kyungsoo softly as he pulls back, and Jongin can feel each of his fiance’s rapid heartbeats against his chest.

There’s really only one right answer.

He leans down and stops just a breath away from Kyungsoo’s lips.

“Love you more than I do right now.”



 

Jongin invites his friends to the dining table, tells them to eat up if they’re hungry. Sehun gladly starts filling his plate, earning laughter from Baekhyun and Chanyeol as Jongdae shakes his head. Jongin smiles to himself. He loves seeing his friends happy. Now to get Kyungsoo.

He pauses at the foot of the stairs. He knows he has about fifteen minutes to get Kyungsoo before his guests start wondering what’s happened to him, so he takes the time to steel himself, to put on a mask that he has to wear whenever he and Kyungsoo are around other people.

But it’s not a mask that connotes a change in his personality, no. It’s a mask he wears as protective gear, accustomed (and exhausted) as he is to watching people’s hearts break when they’re around Kyungsoo.

Please let them understand, he thinks to himself before taking a deep breath.

He goes upstairs.


 

Jongin’s never been happier. He and Kyungsoo have moved into a bigger apartment, halfway between the hospital Kyungsoo works at and the bookstore Jongin’s family owns. Jongin wakes up every morning and kisses Kyungsoo goodbye before they both head off to work, and when that’s done, Jongin waits for Kyungsoo’s shift to end with dinner and open arms.

They go out whenever they can. Jongin fawns over Sehun’s new daughter as Kyungsoo looks on, fondness evident in his eyes when Jongin makes the girl laugh. Baekhyun turns up every now and then when he isn’t recording new music, Chanyeol close by his side. Jongdae makes it a point to invite them all to his fiance Junmyeon’s new restaurant, where they’re all treated to a delicious meal that has them slumped against their chairs, full up when they’re done.

Jongin likes that he gets to go to sleep almost every night with Kyungsoo in his arms. The passion between them doesn’t die down - instead, it remains the same, Jongin unable to keep his hands off Kyungsoo the minute they get time to themselves. He revels in the sounds he knows only he gets to hear his husband make, finds himself falling deeper every time they make love.

What he treasures most comes after. After they’re sated, after they’re spent, after they’re exhausted. Jongin curls himself around Kyungsoo and they lay in silence, contentment heavy in the air around them. They don’t say anything to each other, steady breathing the only sounds they make. This is the time when Jongin can hear Kyungsoo’s heart beat out an I love you, small and quiet, but always there.

Jongin loves Kyungsoo, too. 



 

Jongin knocks. Once. Twice. Thrice. At the fourth knock he hears a rough come in, a voice scratched from sleep and disuse reaching out for him through the small crack in the door. He pushes it open and finds Kyungsoo sitting up in bed, blankets gathered in his lap, hair tousled. He smiles fondly at his husband and comes to sit by him.

“Had a good nap?” he asks, combing fingers through the elder’s hair, now streaked with white between the black. Kyungsoo smiles sleepily at him and nods. “Ready to go downstairs?”

“What for?” Kyungsoo asks, brow furrowing slightly. He lets Jongin pull him out of bed and get him dressed, simple trousers and blue shirt to match.

“Your birthday party,” murmurs Jongin, finger-combing Kyungsoo’s hair to get it to sit just right. When he’s done he smiles and stands back - Kyungsoo looks great.

He always looks great to Jongin.

“Time to go downstairs,” announces Jongin, reaching for Kyungsoo’s hand. He doesn’t snatch it away, lets the younger intertwine their fingers, but confusion still mars his features. He looks up at Jongin with wide eyes, the wrinkles around them more pronounced under the weight of his confusion.

“What for?"



 

“You’re always in that store, I never see you anymore!” yells Kyungsoo, frustration scratching at his voice, crawling underneath his skin. It’s the third time this month that he’d taken a day off to spend with Jongin, only to find that his husband has to spend the day in his family’s bookstore. Jongin’s father had relinquished responsibility and ownership of the place to Jongin, and now Jongin’s the only one left to run it.

“That’s not my fault!” Jongin shouts back, chest heaving, anger pulling his brows together. “Do you think I like walking out on you when I know you’re here for the day? When I know you want to spend time with me?”

“Judging by today, I’d say yes!” Kyungsoo retorts. His eyes are twin pools of angry flames, and his hands are balled up by his side.

“All these years together, and you think I can’t stand you? That I’d run out on you at the first opportunity? Why do you think I’m still married to you, then?” questions Jongin.

“Who knows!” replies Kyungsoo, throwing his hands up in defeat. “You never have time to spend with me anymore, who knows what’s going in on your head? I sure don’t.”

Jongin isn’t going to lie. The fact that Kyungsoo so readily questions his love, his commitment to him, hurts. He grits his teeth, clenches his jaw, and narrows his eyes at his husband. “I waited up nights for you. Before we were ever married, before I askedyou to marry me. I put up with your schedule. I dealt with all of that before I promised myself to you forever. Are you saying I did all of that for ing fun?” he asks. Kyungsoo just continues to glare at him, and Jongin knows this isn’t going to go anywhere, both too stubborn to back down and admit mistakes, to concede defeat.

So Jongin leaves the room.

He settles himself in their study, seething as he switches his computer on. There are orders he needs to check on, customers he needs to email. He has a mountain of work to get done, and he’s thankful for the distraction.

Not five minutes later the door to the study swings open again, and Jongin can hear Kyungsoo silently padding into the room. He’s still angry, of course - but the anger has come down from a boil and is set to simmer for now. He still flinches away when Kyungsoo tries to wrap arms around his shoulders from behind, and kiss him.

“Jongin?” asks Kyungsoo, confusion in his voice.

Jongin doesn’t say a word.

“Jongin… Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?” Kyungsoo asks again, and Jongin’s finger hovers over the button on his mouse.

What?

The confusion in Kyungsoo’s voice sounds genuine, but Jongin’s still angry enough that he doesn’t want to speak to his husband right now. Still, Kyungsoo clings to him, a little terrified, plenty confused. “Jongin? Why won’t you speak to me? Did I do something wrong, did I hurt you?” he asks, and his voice climbs into a panic. Jongin finally speaks.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” he grunts, eyes still trained on the monitor.

“Jongin - Jongin, please, I love you - I love you so much, why won’t you speak to me? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Kyungsoo begs, eyes welling up with tears. Jongin is mildly surprised to see them there, but irritation bites at him more than anything else does.

“We had a fight ten minutes ago. We were both shouting. You were angry at me, and I was angry at you,” Jongin clarifies, noting how Kyungsoo’s face only looks more and more shocked with every word he says. “Don’t you remember? It was literally ten minutes ago.” he adds.

Kyungsoo looks at him, eyes full of tears and fear.

“No.”



 

Jongin holds his hand until they reach the ground floor. Their guests’ voices had floated up to them when they were halfway down, and Jongin couldn’t ignore the way Kyungsoo’s hand tightened around his own, agitation making his fingers curl around his more securely. “They’re your friends, Kyungsoo,” he reminds, even though he knows the words will be gone from Kyungsoo’s memory by the time they reach the dining room.

Jongin leads Kyungsoo towards the source of all the joy and boisterous laughter, the volume of which would have been much higher if only they’d all had the lungs they did ten years ago. Kyungsoo resorts to clinging to Jongin from behind, hands curled in the back of the younger’s shirt. Even just from that Jongin can feel Kyungsoo trembling.

“Kyungsoo!” shouts Baekhyun, the first to look over and spot Jongin. Kyungsoo only peers at the man over his husband’s shoulder, and ducks back down when Chanyeol calls his name, too.

His shaking increases.

“They’re your friends, Kyungsoo,” says Jongin again, exactly the same as he did a few minutes ago. “You’ve been friends with them for years. Trust me, nobody’s going to hurt you here. Trust me.”



 

Kyungsoo isn’t a doctor anymore. His brain becomes increasingly more addled, and Jongdae notices. It’s with a heavy heart that he sends Kyungsoo off to a physician, and when the diagnosis is confirmed, Kyungsoo hangs up his coat and stethoscope. Hecan’t be a doctor anymore.

Jongin stops going to the bookstore so much. It’s doing well enough now that he can afford to hire a manager, someone he trusts to watch the store for him while he takes care of Kyungsoo. They move a little further out of the city, into a house where there’s plenty of space and it’s quieter, and it’s easier for Jongin to care for his husband.

“When it gets worse,” says Kyungsoo one day, “And I can’t remember stuff from this morning, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” asks Jongin. He’d promise Kyungsoo anything, if only he could.

“That you’ll always tell the truth. Don’t sugarcoat things, don’t lie to me. I want you to be honest with me,” says Kyungsoo, eyes pleading and Jongin can’t say no. He doesn’t want to have to live caught up in a web of lies, either - that isn’t something he wants to spend the rest of his days with Kyungsoo doing.

So he promises, and he keeps it, even when it gets hard to sometimes.

A bit of Kyungsoo fades with every passing day, and Jongin can only try his best to hold on.



 

Jongin’s gentle coaxing finally gets Kyungsoo out from behind him. His husband stands next to him instead, eyes still wide, hands still a little shaky. Jongin just plasters on his best smile and leads Kyungsoo to an empty chair before sitting in the one right next to it. Once he’s settled he looks at Kyungsoo.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and Kyungsoo nods. “This is Sehun, he was my best man. This is Chanyeol, he was your best man. That’s Jongdae, you went through med school and worked at the hospital with him, and - ”

“Wait,” says Baekhyun, holding his hand up just slightly before Jongin has a chance to introduce him. Jongin shoots him a questioning look and immediately wants to look away again - he has that look in his eyes again, and Jongin sighs. He knows what Baekhyun’s about to do.

Well, he supposes, he should be used to the disappointment by now.

“You remember me, right, Kyungsoo?” asks Baekhyun carefully. He is a novice soldier picking through a field of well concealed mines - he knows everything is going to blow up in his face soon, but he knows he has to at least try.

The blank look on Kyungsoo’s face shoots a dagger straight through Baekhyun’s heart, but he persists anyway.

“Don’t you remember? We were in a band together, you and I, in high school. We used it as an excuse to skip out on music club.” Baekhyun’s voice slowly grows more desperate, and Jongdae reaches out to squeeze the elder’s arm. They’ve all felt this way before with Kyungsoo. They all know how much it hurts, but Baekhyun remains to be the only one who thinks things are going to change.

Kyungsoo’s face grows steadily more afraid, fingers reaching out on instinct to find Jongin’s, and Baekhyun starts to lose hope. “You don’t… You don’t remember any of that? How we used to put Chanyeol’s guitar out of tune just before shows?”

“I don’t,” answers Kyungsoo meekly, and Baekhyun hangs his head.

Some things are meant to be lost forever.



 

Things are different now, Jongin thinks. Kyungsoo doesn’t go out to see his friends anymore, barely remembers their names when they come to visit. They pretend to be understanding and okay with it - we understand, it’s not his fault; no, no it’s fine, he can’t help it - but Jongin sees the hurt they hold in their eyes every time Kyungsoo stumbles and forgets their names.

Slowly his friends drift away, weekly dinners transitioning into monthly ones, before their appearances are limited to special occasions. Jongin quickly becomes Kyungsoo’s only companion, and it takes a toll on the elder. He’s lonely, a lot of the time, and Jongin’s heart breaks because there are times when Kyungsoo remembers. There aretimes when he asks for Baekhyun, or Chanyeol, or asks how come he hasn’t seen Jongdae in such a long time.

It’s just that he never remembers in front of the people who need to see it most.

“Jongin,” squeaks Kyungsoo, voice small in the night that encompasses them. He’s curled up in bed and Jongin’s seated at the desk in their room, going over a few emails from the manager at the bookstore. “Jongin,” calls Kyungsoo again, trying to get his husband’s attention.

“Yes?” says Jongin, looking over at Kyungsoo.

“Why are you so far away from me?”

The question is a blow straight to Jongin’s heart. And then there are times like this, where Kyungsoo feels so terribly alone, and insecure, and the only thing to keep him feeling safe is Jongin’s arms around him. Jongin’s warmth, comforting him.

Jongin doesn’t hesitate to switch off the laptop and make his way to his husband, joining him under the covers. He wraps himself around Kyungsoo, lets the elder bury himself in his warmth.

“Never go away,” mumbles Kyungsoo softly, slowly falling asleep with Jongin caressing his back.

“Never,” promises Jongin.

He means it.



 

A couple of hours pass and one by one, their guests head home. Jongin busies himself with washing up and putting away the leftovers, calling answers over his shoulder for all the questions Kyungsoo throws at him.

“Why are you washing so many dishes?” asks Kyungsoo a third time. He’s seated at the island in their kitchen, confusion digging even deeper wrinkles into his face. “Did we really make that much mess between us?”

“We had guests over,” says Jongin patiently, also for the third time. “Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Jongdae and Sehun came over to celebrate your birthday,” he says, putting the last dish in the dish rack before he turns to face Kyungsoo. He smiles at his husband, who smiles back almost on reflex.

“Did I remember them?” asks Kyungsoo hopefully, and this is the part Jongin hates themost. He knows it can’t be easy for Kyungsoo - the occasional bout of sadness brought on by nothing more than sheer trust in Jongin’s recounts of the days events, and he shakes his head with a heavy heart. Kyungsoo’s face immediately drops, and it takes Jongin’s heart with it.

“Did I hurt anyone’s feelings?” comes the next sentence, mumbled so lowly Jongin’s ears almost don’t pick it up. He curls fingers under Kyungsoo’s chin and makes the elder look at him.

“Yes,” answers Jongin truthfully. “But Baekhyun will be fine, eventually. He always is,” he adds on. Kyungsoo’s face brightens for a few seconds before Jongin tells him it’s time they get ready for bed, and then he obediently follows Jongin up to their shared bedroom.

They repeat the same routine Jongin has had engrained in his bones over the past couple of years - they wash together, brush their teeth together, get dressed for bed together. Jongin takes care to always get Kyungsoo done before himself, helps the elder tie up the drawstrings on his pyjama bottoms before pulling on his own.

Once they’re done, they slip into bed, Kyungsoo immediately scooting over to press his face into Jongin’s chest. This is one thing that hasn’t changed over the years, and Jongin is so thankful for it.

“Jongin?”
“Mm?”
“Why am I so tired?”
“You had a birthday party today.”
“Oh? Who came?”
“Baekhyun, Jongdae, Sehun and Chanyeol.”
“Who are they?”
“Your friends.”
“I don’t remember them.”
“I know.”

They steep themselves in silence for the next couple of minutes. Jongin wonders if their conversation has made it safely to Kyungsoo’s brain, or if it had slipped through the cracks somewhere and his words were long forgotten. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. Nowadays, Kyungsoo barely remembers anything he did in the day.

He’s about to drift off to sleep when Kyungsoo speaks, voice small and muffled by his chest. “Do you remember the night we first met?” asks Kyungsoo, cautious pride hiding between his words. Jongin smiles down at his husband - this is why Kyungsoo will always be the same Kyungsoo he was all those years ago to Jongin: he may have forgotten everything and everyone else, but his memory of Jongin stays intact.

His whole world may shift in a matter of minutes, but Jongin will always remain the same.

“Yeah,” says Jongin softly, fingers coming up to tangle in Kyungsoo’s hair.

“You were all gross and sweaty,” remarks Kyungsoo, wrinkling his nose as he clutches the front of Jongin’s sleep shirt.

“I was,” laughs Jongin, burying his face in Kyungsoo’s hair.

“And I was a doctor,” says Kyungsoo, as if remembering something from a faraway past, from a different lifetime altogether. His memory isn’t all with him anymore, and he desperately clutches what little of it he has left.

“The cutest doctor I’ve ever seen, might I add,” says Jongin. He loves nights like this.

“And I said sorry,”
“You did.”
“For running you over,”
“Very painfully.”

A couple of beats pass in silence. Kyungsoo peers up at Jongin and his lips before he speaks. “Have I ever said thank you?” he asks, tone posing the question like an innocent child’s.

“Thank you?” Jongin repeats, somewhat confused. “What for?”

“For taking care of me,” says Kyungsoo, eyes staring straight into Jongin’s. “For never leaving me. For always loving me, even if I’m not exactly the easiest person to love anymore.”

Jongin leans down and kisses Kyungsoo’s forehead, pushes the hair that covers it out of the way. He kisses Kyungsoo just like he used to - slowly, softly, but with such tenderness Kyungsoo feels as though he might burst.

“You’ve always been easy to love,” murmurs Jongin. “And I’ll always keep loving you.” It puts a smile on Kyungsoo’s face, and that’s really all Jongin can wish for, at this point.

It doesn’t take long for Kyungsoo to fall asleep then, heavy eyelids drooping shut, breathing slowing and evening out. Jongin stays awake just a little bit longer, hugging Kyungsoo to his chest, realising he never wants to let go. He crooks his head down to press another gentle kiss to the top of Kyungsoo’s.

“Forever.”




Author’s Note:
DARLING HOLD ME IN YOUR ARMS THE WAY YOU DID LAST NIGHT i wrote all of this in the span of a day lol LOL i keep doing things on a whim nowadays

(speaking of doing things on a whim - I wrote an English version of Eyes Nose Lips on a whim if you want to take a listen hahahahihihuhuhuhu)

AY AY IT’S A RED LIGHT LIGHT

this fic is based off afire love by ed sheeran and it’s brilliant and if you haven’t heard iti don’t know what you’re waiting for tbh

been in a bit of a writing slump for the past couple of weeks but i’ll try to fill some parents!au things this week okay i’ll try my bestest

thank you for reading beautiful butterflies

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