The fights had been going on as long as Junmyeon could remember. Every night, usually at eight o’clock, the phone call would begin, and could last as late as eleven in the evening. It started quiet, but eventually would end up in screams and tears.

Junmyeon had never met the man on the other end of the line—who was, as his father claimed, his other father. He had only seen one picture of his father’s ex-husband: an old picture taken at a college graduation, showing two young men wearing black robes and grinning broadly into the camera. He’d never talked with his other father, either; the only times he heard his voice was when it was screaming through the speakers of the phone during a fight that had gone too far.

More often than not, Jongdae, his younger brother by two years, would crawl into bed beside him, eyes shining with unshed tears. This was during the latest hours of the night, when Jongdae’s uncaring manner would fall aside to reveal a vulnerable, young child inside.

“Are they ever going to stop?” Jongdae would whisper.

Junmyeon would hug Jongdae closer, trying to shield him from the words. “Of course,” he would say, but he knew it would start again, a vicious cycle day after day that seemed to have no end.

After all the years of listening to the arguments, Junmyeon practically knew all the phrases by heart.

How can I still believe, Xiumin? You killed my every reason to believe.

I don’t care anymore. Just give me the money.

Are you telling me to carry this burden forever? Wasn’t this supposed to be shared between us from our wedding day?

The house is mine. The children are mine. You have no control over either one of them.

Did you marry me only for profit?

Impossible. I need the money now.

How can you say that you have nothing to do with me? How can you say you never hurt me? Then who did hurt me?

Did you not push me to this divorce? I’m not as shameless as you.

How much more do you want to push me? Aren’t you hurting me enough already? Are you even human? How much more do you want to hurt me?

The screams would increase in volume, with his father’s Chinese accent becoming more noticeable with each angry word. Sometimes, he would even start screaming in Chinese when his Korean vocabulary was no longer sufficient to express his agitation. Eventually, he would break off in hysterical laughter or tears, sometimes even both.

No matter how long the fight was, nothing ever changed. Junmyeon could never understand why his parents couldn’t leave well enough alone. They were separated by a whole ocean, and yet neither of them could shake off the binds of love that kept them awake and screaming at each other at the oddest hours of the day and night.

The days passed in the same mundane way, with barely there family connection during the day and long fights over the phone at night. There were only four nights that would pass differently: his father’s birthday, Christmas Day, and what he assumed was his other father’s birthday, because those were the days when there was no phone call; and then there was July fourteenth. July fourteenth was the date scrawled on the back of the photograph. July fourteenth, from what Junmyeon could deduce, was the day his parents had graduated from college (the system in China, the college where the two had met, worked differently from the Korean calendar), the anniversary of their first date, their wedding anniversary, and their divorce date, when all the papers had been signed. That day was the worst. The phone call could last until dawn, and his father would usually end up skipping work due to a hoarse throat.

Junmyeon stayed awake on July fourteenth of his senior year, unable to sleep. Jongdae was curled up beside him, sobbing helplessly as screams continued to echo through the house. Finally, Junmyeon gave up and got out of bed, making sure to tuck the blankets around Jongdae to provide some sense of security. Then he walked quietly towards his father’s room.

“Father?” he called softly, crawling into bed beside him.

His father barely glanced at him, continuing to talk heatedly into the phone. “I can’t pay the house off by myself. It’s your responsibility as well! I don’t care if the apartments in New York are more expensive.” He then added something in Chinese that Junmyeon couldn’t follow.

“Father,” Junmyeon said again, tugging on his father’s sleeve. “Stop fighting, please.” He did this often, especially when the screams started getting too loud. When he saw the first tears slip from his father’s eyes, he knew the fight would last for several more torturous hours. He reached over and took the phone, ending the call and turning the device off. “Just go to sleep, Father.”

He turned his head away, and from the moonlight coming through the window, Junmyeon could see the wrinkles accentuated on his face. The phone calls were wearing him away, Junmyeon realized, draining his happiness and aging him much too quickly. The question was always on the tip of his tongue—why can’t you just stop calling him?—but when he saw the vulnerable look in his father’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

The most he could do was hold his father’s hand and wait for the night to end, knowing the tears were a long way from ending.



Junmyeon could see the effect of the nightly calls on their family.

It weighed heavily on his father, who already had a weary air beyond his years, despite his youthful face, which didn’t seem to have changed much since his college graduation.

He could see it in Jongdae as well. Maybe it was, in part, because of his father’s warnings to not let anyone take advantage of him. He was loud and demanding, hiding true feelings behind a smile in the daytime. Jongdae never ceased to demand, whining until he got what he wanted.

Junmyeon, on the other hand, seemed to never stop giving. He wore a smile constantly as well, as though between the two brothers, they could smile enough to make up for their father, who rarely ever smiled. But unlike Jongdae, who attached himself to everyone he met, Junmyeon remained distant. He never demanded, nor did he ever give anything of himself, holding close the things he considered important.

Junmyeon had learned long ago to stop asking questions, to accept the worst of life with a smile and continue on. But Jongdae was much more stubborn, persistently asking until he got an answer. And Jongdae never ceased to bother their father about his ex-husband, taking every opportunity to find out even the most trivial facts.

“What was his favorite morning drink?” Jongdae asked one day as they were grocery shopping. There was no need for him to specify the “he” that he was referring to.

Junmyeon could see the slight twitch beneath his father’s right eye, a jump of nerves. There was only silence for several minutes as their father counted the number of apples in a bag and measured it. Then he replied softly, “Coffee. Decaf, with two spoonfuls of sugar and some milk.”

Junmyeon chastised Jongdae for being so straightforward and probing with his questions sometimes. “Can’t you see that it hurts him? He already has enough of a reminder every night without you having to make it worse.”

“Hyung, can’t you see that he still cares? He even remembers the smallest details of this man. We’re even this man’s namesake. Don’t I deserve to know more?”

Junmyeon couldn’t deny that he wasn’t curious, but he had learned to put aside personal feelings for what he believed was right. But Jongdae, lively and loud Jongdae, would probably never learn, and maybe it was better that he didn’t learn to become so apathetic. So instead of arguing with Jongdae, Junmyeon walked forward, deciding to take the middle ground. He drew Jongdae into a hug, one that spoke much more than simple words. It held apologies that were never said, uncountable apologies for everything and nothing. “I’m sorry. It’s just, we only have each other left, you know? I don’t want to lose it.”

Jongdae laughed softly. “I understand. I’m sorry, hyung.” He ran his fingers lightly through Junmyeon’s hair. “Just don’t pretend to be happy, okay? It’s alright to not always smile.”

The smile was their only shield, but Junmyeon didn’t call Jongdae out on his words. Instead, he only nodded, stepping back and smiling. The glowing whites of the Kim brothers were like mirror images of each other, stretching so widely the world could never distinguish their true smiles from their fake ones.

There were no promises of anything in the future, because as they learned through their parents’ story, promises made during youth faded away with the passing time.



If Junmyeon’s professor hadn’t let out class half an hour early and if Junmyeon hadn’t decided to try the newly opened sandwich shop, he would never have met Chanyeol. As it was, Junmyeon had been walking around a building when a large blur crashed into him, full force. Both of them went sprawling across the concrete.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going…are you okay? Sir? You’re not hurt too badly, right?”

Junmyeon sat up slowly, feeling slightly disoriented as he looked up into the concerned eyes of the stranger. “I’m fine.” He accepted the extended hand and slowly stumbled to his feet. Then he dusted off the dirt that had gotten on his bag. The stranger was still apologizing, even bowing, and Junmyeon grinned, touching his arm to get his attention. “I’m fine, thank you.”

The man stopped apologizing, but he stared at Junmyeon for so long that the smile faded from his face. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, smiling brightly. “No. I’m…” Junmyeon was sure that he was about to say his name, but his gaze suddenly dropped to his watch and he jerked in surprise. “Oh, shoot! I’m late.” And with that, he ran off in the same direction he had been headed for.



That should have been their one and only meeting, but surprisingly, it wasn’t.

Junmyeon rarely ever ate at restaurants, nor did he have a job outside of the college campus. He kept mostly to himself, tutoring a few students and volunteering at the library. The scholarship money and his allowance was more than enough to support him, but it also meant he didn’t give himself certain privileges.

The last few weeks, Junmyeon had been tutoring Jongin in Calculus I. Jongin had been a difficult student to teach at first, but he passed his second test with flying colors. Like Junmyeon, Jongin was also a freshman, and they’d become pretty close. Jongin’s happiness was contagious, so Junmyeon decided to take him out for dinner at a restaurant just off of college campus. The prices there were probably ten times the price of an average college student’s meal.

“Hyung, the prices,” Jongin protested when they opened the menus.

“It’s fine,” Junmyeon assured him. The meal would probably leave a gaping hole in his wallet for the next few weeks, but Jongin deserved the reward.

Junmyeon ordered several dishes, and the waiter was pouring water into their glasses. Then, suddenly, the jug of water slipped from his grasp, falling onto the floor. It didn’t shatter, but the water and ice spilled over the floor, and there was a large crack in the jug.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” the waiter gasped. Junmyeon turned his head, recognizing the voice, and came face-to-face with the guy he’d bumped into the day before. He saw the recognition flicker across the waiter’s face before he was gone.

The water was cleaned, and the rest of the dinner passed without further drama. Junmyeon didn’t meet the waiter again until he went to pay for the dinner. The same stranger was standing behind the cash register.

“I’m sorry for what happened today,” the waiter said, swiping Junmyeon’s credit card. “Junmyeon, right? I’m Chanyeol. I swear it doesn’t happen often.”

“I understand,” Junmyeon assured him, signing the receipt.

Chanyeol hesitated as he gave Junmyeon his credit card back. “If you don’t mind, would you like to exchange phone numbers? I can make it up to you. I probably came off as rude the day before.”

“No, it’s fine,” Junmyeon insisted, but Chanyeol was handing him his phone, indicating for him to enter his number.

“What took you so long?” Jongin asked as Junmyeon returned to their table. “Did you have enough money?”

“Yeah, I paid.” Then, because Jongin still looked confused, Junmyeon explained what had happened with Chanyeol.

Jongin laughed, throwing an arm around Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Good job, hyung. He was really hot, too.”

Junmyeon tried to protest—no, it wasn’t really like that, they were just friends—but Jongin’s laugh drowned him out.



Spending time with Chanyeol was fun. Despite Junmyeon’s reserved nature, it was easy for him to open up to Chanyeol. They ate lunch together a few times a week, and sometimes went to the movies together over the weekends. Soon, Chanyeol had made his own place in Junmyeon’s life, and Junmyeon found himself cheering Chanyeol on at his basketball games.

Chanyeol was the first to confess one day when they were in the park together. He brought out a large bouquet of flowers. “Junmyeon, I like you. Will you be my boyfriend?”

It had been so easy for Junmyeon to say yes, to put what they had under a label. Chanyeol was kind and caring, and it was easy for him to envision the future they could have together.

Chanyeol was there to make Junmyeon laugh, even when he was incredibly stressed. He coaxed Junmyeon to sleep when he was up too long, sitting in the library surrounded by papers. When the exams came, Chanyeol was there to help Junmyeon through the worst of the days.

They decided to rent an apartment together for their third year of college, somewhere away from the college dorms. It was comforting, knowing that Chanyeol would be there when he opened his eyes and after classes were done. However, Junmyeon didn’t trust Chanyeol in the kitchen; although Chanyeol worked at a restaurant, he was likely to burn down the entire apartment. Nonetheless, they lived happily together. They’d never had an argument, and always came to a compromise fairly quickly.

There was something comforting about Chanyeol’s deep voice, his caring side was endearing, and his smile always managed to draw Junmyeon from any negative feelings. Junmyeon began to realize that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with Chanyeol.

Chanyeol made a reservation at the restaurant he worked at for their third anniversary, during their last year of college. Junmyeon had protested feebly at the prices, but Chanyeol’s assurances made it worthwhile.

They’d finished dinner when Chanyeol got down on one knee before Junmyeon, pulling out a ring box. “Kim Junmyeon, will you marry me?”

Junmyeon blinked, shocked. It had never crossed his mind that they would get married so soon, but at the same time, he knew there would be no one else but Chanyeol. “Yes.”

“Really?” Chanyeol was grinning, a bright and infectious smile, as he slid the engagement ring onto Junmyeon’s finger. “I’m so glad,” he said as he stood, hugging Junmyeon tightly. “I love you, Jun.”

“I love you too,” Junmyeon said, holding Chanyeol’s hand as they walked outside. He could feel excitement fluttering inside of him as he imagined their future together. Engagement was one step closer to making that dream come true. Sure, he knew the title came with responsibilities, but he wouldn’t mind the lifelong promise.

They walked to Chanyeol’s car, and Chanyeol opened the passenger seat for Junmyeon. Before Junmyeon got in, Chanyeol drew him in for a kiss. He smiled as he pulled back, running a hand affectionately through Junmyeon’s hair. “I just wanted to do that.”

Chanyeol started the car, and Junmyeon didn’t even have to look to know that he was grinning as well. You don’t have to pretend to be happy, Jongdae had said. And that was true. Thanks to Chanyeol, Junmyeon had learned that he could be happy at any given time, even when the situation was bleak. Chanyeol made everything so easy. He made it simple for Junmyeon to forget about the past afflictions and to dream of a beautiful future. But mostly, Chanyeol made it easy for Junmyeon to fall in love.



Junmyeon tried to avoid returning home, using the excuse of his faraway college. He usually tagged along with Chanyeol during the breaks, returning home about three times a year. July fourteenth was one of the days that he would take the train back home.

He hugged Jongdae tightly and smiled at his father. It was nice to be back at home, carrying the happy news of his engagement.

Junmyeon had intended to spill the news at the dinner table; his family already knew about Chanyeol, and they approved of the man. But he found himself getting caught in a conversation with Jongdae about his college. Jongdae had been in an exchange program, had gone to school for two years in China, and now wanted to go to college in Korea. He bothered Junmyeon for information about his college, arguing about the pros and cons of each program. Their father even chimed in from time to time, although his eyes kept drifting to the clock. Junmyeon felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. Tonight was July fourteenth, he thought. Any minute now, the phone call would begin…

Jongdae tried to pull Junmyeon to the TV after they finished dinner and all the dishes had been washed. “There’s this really funny reality show going on, Jun. You have to see it.”

As it turned out, the reality show lasted a full four hours, extending from seven-thirty until eleven-thirty. The call came in at nine-thirty. Junmyeon tensed and glanced over at Jongdae, who merely took the remote control and adjusted the TV sound so it was slightly louder.

An hour later, the arguments were getting slightly louder. Jongdae took the remote control, probably to turn the TV up even louder, and Junmyeon reached over and took it away.

“Don’t make it too loud. It’ll damage your ears.” Junmyeon turned the TV off and hesitantly laid a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder. “You do this often, don’t you?”

Jongdae turned to him, and Junmyeon could see the tears glittering in his eyes. “What else do you expect me to do, hyung? I try to stop listening, but…”

Junmyeon sighed, putting his arms around Jongdae and guiding him towards his bedroom. “Just go to your room and sleep, okay? I’ll take care of Dad.” He tucked Jongdae into bed, drawing the covers up to his chin.

Jongdae grabbed Junmyeon’s hand as he started to leave. “Junmyeon, I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for coming back. Come back more often, okay?”

“Of course,” Junmyeon assured him. He forced a smile onto his lips, although Jongdae’s room was too dark to see anything anyways. “Good night.” He closed the door behind him and walked out into the hall, already hearing his father’s voice increasing in volume.

Junmyeon slipped into the bed beside his father, leaning his back against the headboard and staring at the red digits of the clock on the bedside, watching the minutes count down. The words were still the same, a repetition of the arguments he’d heard so often as a child.

Soon, the clock reached twelve-thirty in the morning, and Junmyeon turned his head to face his father, who was holding the phone to his ear, listening silently. There were a few tears slipping down his cheeks, retracing the tracks they had run over so many times before. Junmyeon wondered how many more tears he had left to shed. He reached over, holding his father’s free hand.

“Father, you should go to sleep.”

His father did not appear to hear him, for he did not move the phone from his ear. He continued to argue from time to time, although his voice was lower in volume, slightly hoarse from the previous screaming. Junmyeon had intended to end the call for him some time later, but he ended up falling asleep.

When Junmyeon sat up from the bed, it was already five-thirty the following morning. Junmyeon turned his head to look at his father. From the dark circles under his eyes, he probably hadn’t slept at all last night.

“I’m going to make some breakfast,” Junmyeon said, starting to leave the bed.

“Junmyeon, wait.” His father pulled a book from the nightstand and handed it to Junmyeon. “I…want you to see something.”

Junmyeon opened the book and gasped softly as his eyes fell on the first picture. Oh. This was…the photo album. He recognized the figures on the pages as those of his father and his ex-husband, based on the one picture he’d seen of them. But…why was he seeing this now? Junmyeon looked up at his father, the question obvious in his eyes.

“I want to explain the phone calls.”

“You don’t have to,” Junmyeon began. He knew how much it hurt his father.

His father shook his head insistently. “No, I want to. You deserve to know. I’ll probably tell Jongdae as well, when he’s old enough to understand.” He pointed to the first picture, a somewhat blurry black-and-white shot. “That was one of our first dates. There was a carnival at the college, and Xiumin had convinced me to take a picture with him. We met our first year of college, and started dating the year after that. He had been the one to confess.” There was a faint smile on his lips as he remembered the happier days that had come and gone. “He proposed the day of our graduation, although his parents didn’t approve. They even disowned him when they heard about it, but Xiumin still managed to marry me. That was when I thought our love was invincible.”

His father turned to another page and pointed to one of the pictures. “We adopted you two years after graduation. Xiumin was still struggling through law school then. He was so eager to do good for the general public, and to become a defense attorney. Then, a few years after that, Xiumin passed the bar and I got my Ph.D. and had become a professor. That was when we adopted Jongdae.”

He turned the page, showing a close-up shot of his ex-husband holding a baby Jongdae. “It seemed like nothing could go wrong, but suddenly, Xiumin’s company crashed, and he lost his job. He ended up taking one in New York. It was really far away, but the pay was so promising.” The smile had completely disappeared from his father’s lips. “We had our first fight only a few months later. It was my fault, since I’d wrongly accused him of cheating on me, when he hadn’t. Then he claimed he couldn’t stay in a relationship with a partner who couldn’t trust him. We got divorced not long after, and I haven’t seen him since then.” There was a long pause, but while Junmyeon was still trying to figure out what to say, his father stood. “I’m going to go cook breakfast.”

Junmyeon opened his mouth, ready to call his father back and express his sympathy, possibly even comfort him, but his father was already gone. Junmyeon looked back down at the pictures, the story settling in his head. It was so sad, so beautiful. But as he continued staring at the pictures, the figures of his father and Xiumin slowly turned into him and Chanyeol. That was Chanyeol, sharing an ice cream cone with a grinning Junmyeon. That was Chanyeol, presenting an engagement ring, wearing a ridiculous hat, holding a baby in his arms.

For the first time, Junmyeon found doubts running through his mind. His parents’ relationship had been so happy, so promising, but look where they were now. Was it because they had been too young to understand, or was it because they were never meant to be together?

Maybe engagement wasn’t such a good idea. He had probably been too blindsided by love to see all the difficulties that could follow in the future. Junmyeon stayed in his childhood home for another day and a half, plagued by the internal conflict. He would return Jongdae’s smile and laugh at all the right times if he was telling a joke, but his mind was set on Chanyeol’s smile, his rows of glittering whites. Would Chanyeol still smile without Junmyeon by his side?

Junmyeon tried to imagine them fighting over the phone, but he couldn’t. Sure, he’d heard Chanyeol yell before, but it was never out of anger. But after all, love changes people in more ways than one. He’d never heard his father raise his voice before; he’d always approach things with calm, unwavering logic. But when the calls came at night, he would immediately go into complaints, like he was trying to infuriate the person on the other end.

By the time he got on the train headed back to the college, Junmyeon had already made up his mind. He couldn’t see the future, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t plan for the future. And no matter how he looked, he knew that he didn’t want his relationship to end like his father’s. Junmyeon stared out the window as the scenery flashed by. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed with a message from Jongdae.

Bye, hyung! Dad and me are glad you came. Come back soon. There was a cat emoji attached.

Junmyeon smiled and started to reply when his phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Chanyeol.

Hey, Jun! I can’t wait to see you again. Missed you. There was an emoji of a smiley face blowing a kiss.

Junmyeon turned his phone off, resting his head against the seat with a sigh.



Junmyeon’s train arrived early, and he crossed his fingers, hoping that Chanyeol wouldn’t be at the station yet. His hopes were dashed, however, when Chanyeol walked out to meet him with a bright grin.

“I missed you so much,” Chanyeol said, grabbing Junmyeon into a hug.

Junmyeon tried not to flinch away from the embrace. He felt oddly suffocated, and it wasn’t just because of Chanyeol’s tight hold on him. He blinked his eyes, willing the tears away.

“Hey, did you have fun?” Chanyeol asked as he stepped back. He frowned, leaning down slightly to brush Junmyeon’s tears away. “Is there something wrong? Junmyeon?”

“I’m just tired,” Junmyeon lied, turning his head away. He allowed Chanyeol to take his suitcase and followed him out of the crowded train station.

“Are you hungry?” Chanyeol laid a hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder concernedly. “We can go home if you want.”

Junmyeon forced a smile onto his lips. Why are you making this so hard for me? “No, we can go eat. I haven’t had lunch yet.”

Chanyeol guided Junmyeon to his car, hand never moving from his shoulder. But rather than calming Junmyeon, it only made him more on the edge. Junmyeon’s hands were trembling as he buckled his seatbelt, causing him to miss it several times.

“How is your family?” Chanyeol asked as he started the car.

“Fine,” Junmyeon answered shortly.

Chanyeol seemed to sense that Junmyeon wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and began talking about his own weekend, relating the adventures he’d had with his friends. He stopped talking as they walked up to the restaurant. “Anything you’d like to eat?”

Junmyeon hesitated at the door. This was the restaurant where Chanyeol worked; this was where they’d met for the second time, where they’d shared many anniversary dinners together. The prices here were ridiculously expensive; it was clear that Chanyeol was trying to make Junmyeon feel better. It wasn’t working. “Chanyeol,” he began quietly, avoiding Chanyeol’s eyes so he could get through the lines he’d rehearsed. “I think we should break up.”

“What?” Chanyeol laid a hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder, trying to turn him around to face him. “You’re joking, right? Junmyeon…”

“It’s not working,” he said quietly, repeating the overused phrase that translated into I’m no longer in love with you. Junmyeon slipped the ring off of his finger and pressed it into Chanyeol’s hand. “Thank you.”

Junmyeon started to walk away but was pulled into a hug. “Junmyeon, don’t leave, please.” Chanyeol’s voice cracked, and Junmyeon could feel his tears on the side of his neck, where Chanyeol was burying his head. “Tell me what I did wrong.”

Nothing. Junmyeon stepped back, and Chanyeol let him go. Why don’t you scream at me? Tell me how unfair and unreasonable I’m being. Make this easier for both of us.

It had been so easy to fall in love; it had happened so suddenly, with surprising ease, like when he’d bumped into Chanyeol that day. It should be easier to fall out of love, to forget the promises that were made yesterday. Junmyeon didn’t cry that day. His hand felt oddly lightened, freed from the ring’s weight, and his eyes were dry, so dry that it hurt.

It’s because you don’t understand at first. You don’t know the value of what you left behind. That’s because you don’t know love, you can’t understand what I mean.



Junmyeon moved his belongings out of the apartment he shared with Chanyeol one day when Chanyeol was at class. Later that day, Junmyeon packed up all the objects that reminded him of Chanyeol. The white sweater Chanyeol had left, the beanie he’d meant to give Chanyeol, the oversized red T-shirt that Chanyeol had bought last winter.

But Chanyeol wouldn’t give up so easily. Junmyeon’s phone was filled with missed calls for the first two weeks, and his messages were all from Chanyeol. He had to turn his phone off so the battery wouldn’t drain away in seconds. Each time Chanyeol’s name popped up on the screen, Junmyeon was tempted to answer the call. But he knew that as soon as he heard Chanyeol’s voice, his resolve would crumble, and he’d be tempted to apologize. And knowing Chanyeol, he would probably take Junmyeon back without a second thought.

Sometimes, at night, the bed seemed too large, and sleep seemed too far away. Chanyeol’s voice usually lulled Junmyeon to sleep, and his steady breathing and warmth were comforting. Junmyeon’s mind was filled with doubts sometimes. Was he too harsh in his decisions? Should he have talked it out with Chanyeol?

Then, suddenly, the calls and texts stopped. Junmyeon stared at his phone the entire day, but it never vibrated and the screen didn’t light up with a notification. It remained on his desk, seeming to taunt him with its silence.

Chanyeol must have understood his message. Junmyeon didn’t want to be contacted. He was respecting his personal space. But it still hurt, knowing that their last communications were gone.

Junmyeon’s thumb hovered over Chanyeol’s name in his contacts. He was tempted to delete it, erase their history of texts and calls, but in the end, he didn’t.

Why don’t you try harder? It was ridiculous, because he had been the one to initiate the breakup, but Junmyeon still felt oddly disappointed as he walked out of his class alone. He almost started walking towards the café, where he and Chanyeol had met together after classes.

Jongdae’s surprise arrival was a break in the monotony that had become Junmyeon’s life. He had come over to take a tour of the campus, and would stay with Junmyeon for two days.

“Hello, hyung!” Jongdae was grinning as he hugged Junmyeon, and Junmyeon found himself grinning as well, the first time he’d smiled since his breakup.

“I thought you moved in with your boyfriend,” Jongdae said as he looked around Junmyeon’s one-bedroom apartment.

Junmyeon tried to keep the smile on his face. “I moved out.” He had been lucky to find an empty apartment so far into the school year. Despite its shabby conditions, it was enough to serve for his purpose.

“Why?” Jongdae asked, but Junmyeon had already walked away to prepare dinner.

Junmyeon could tell that Jongdae wanted to ask more, so he directed Jongdae’s attention away by talking about the better aspects of his college.

“My tour is scheduled for tomorrow,” Jongdae explained. “I have two more in this area, and then I’m headed for a hotel tomorrow night. I have another tour after that, and then I’m going home. I’m applying for the coming semester.”

The conversation could only be avoided for so long. Junmyeon tried to get Jongdae to sleep on his bed while he would take the couch, but Jongdae caught his arm before he could walk away.

“Junmyeon, the bed is big enough for both of us.” Jongdae dragged his older brother over, making him sit beside him on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Junmyeon said, smiling in hope that Jongdae would drop the subject.

“You guys broke up. Did you break up with him?”

At that, Junmyeon’s eyes dropped and his smile faded. Jongdae read his expressions correctly. “Why? What did he do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Junmyeon repeated, this time in a whisper. But Jongdae continued staring at him, and finally, his barriers broke. Hesitantly, he told Jongdae about their parents’ story, then of his own, and his fears and insecurities.

Jongdae hugged Junmyeon tightly, and Junmyeon realized that he’d been crying. It was funny, how much their roles were reversed now.

“You’re an idiot,” Jongdae said after a long pause, but his voice lacked venom. “Get him back, hyung.” Junmyeon pulled back, ready to protest, but Jongdae continued determinedly, “You know you both have feelings for each other. It’s worth it.”

“He’s stopped calling,” Junmyeon reminded him softly.

“Just give him a chance.”

That night, with Jongdae by his side, Junmyeon slept well for the first time in weeks.



Despite Junmyeon’s resolution, he didn’t meet Chanyeol again. Neither he nor Chanyeol made an attempt to seek the other out, and too soon, the school year had already ended, and they had graduated.

It wasn’t that Junmyeon hadn't wanted to meet Chanyeol again. The words “Find Chanyeol” were written and circled many times on his calendar. But that had gotten lost in the mess of his other appointments and assignments. Before he knew it, the chance was gone, and he was left with regret.

Junmyeon went on to graduate school. He got a Ph.D., and by a of luck, was accepted as a professor in the same college he had graduated from years ago. By then, Junmyeon was in his late twenties and had long since put his past behind him. Contrary to what Jongdae assumed, the reason why he didn’t date wasn’t because he was still pining over Chanyeol; it was because he never found the time and energy to do so.

But sometimes, when Junmyeon returned to his apartment alone, the walls seemed too endless. Often, he was hit with nostalgia when he thought back to his undergrad years, when he had someone by his side, someone who would welcome him home, someone who he could welcome home.

It wasn’t like Junmyeon had completely lost hold of Chanyeol. He heard, through the long grapevine of friends, that Chanyeol had gone on to own a restaurant, and was quickly becoming well-known in the industry. But the information was vague, and it wasn’t like he cared to dive much deeper into the rumors.

If Junmyeon hadn't decided to dismiss class half an hour early that day and if he hadn't decided to try a new restaurant on the other side of campus, Junmyeon would never have met him—again.

Before Junmyeon realized what was happening, he was crashing to the ground. When his senses adjusted and he stood up again, he saw someone standing before him, bowing and apologizing continuously.

Junmyeon smiled, reaching out to touch the man’s arm. “Hey, it’s alright.”

The man stopped bowing and stared into Junmyeon’s eyes.

Junmyeon’s smile faltered, but for an entirely different reason this time.

It was ridiculous that even now, ten years later, he found himself falling for the same guy he’d loved so long ago. Ten years may have passed since their first meeting, but Junmyeon still remembered his face with surprising clarity.

“Chanyeol,” he said, his heartbeat sounding loudly in his ears.

“Junmyeon. How have you been?” There was the smile—the smile that he’d fallen in love with, just as he’d come to love every part of Chanyeol. That smile, even now, could still raise Junmyeon’s own lips into a matching, genuine smile.

This was the moment that could dictate the rest of his life. Junmyeon could run away and pretend their meeting had never happened. But when Junmyeon looked into Chanyeol’s eyes, he realized that, yes, he could try again.



Maybe Junmyeon had never fallen out of love with Chanyeol, because getting back together with him was as easy as breathing. It had seemed so natural when Chanyeol slid the same ring on his finger again. Sometimes, Junmyeon still had doubts, but when he saw Chanyeol’s smile, when he felt Chanyeol holding his hand tightly, he knew that he could face whatever the world had in store for them. Life wasn’t always going to be easy, Junmyeon had learned, but he was ready to fight to keep their happiness.

Chanyeol had made falling in love so simple, yet as Junmyeon had found, falling out of love wasn’t nearly as easy. But maybe that’s a blessing, Junmyeon thought, as he hugged his boyfriend tightly. Because he doesn’t ever want to fall out of love.

A/N: Ew. The cheesiness. Thank you N for beta-reading this!