Hanbin/Jiwon/Yunhyeong | PG-13 | 11,967 words| AU | Angst
People grow up and apart.

There are pink streaks on the sky but it’s just a pale purple above Hanbin. The sun is small and far, a dark yellow, descending below discernible buildings and skyscrapers of a town miles away from the hill where he rests against a tree, looking over what used to be a makeshift soccer field but now just patches of overgrown grass.

He stands up from his crouching, and he grunts thinking he should’ve worn socks even though it’s summer so that the mosquitoes won’t bite him. That’s too late a thought, though. It’s getting dark and he decides it’s time to go home.

He stills in his steps and forgets how to breathe. There, standing in front of him is Jiwon, dressed in a fairly loose shirt that clings to his torso due to sweat, black workout shorts and sneakers of the same color.

The man sweeps his long raven hair back so they don’t stick to his face, then proceeds to rest his hand on his nape, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. There are beads of sweat on his forehead that he wipes with the back of his hand. “Hey,” he greets shakily, voice rougher and deeper than what Hanbin can remember.

Hanbin replies a beat too fast, “Hi.”

A nervous smile graces his mouth and he realizes he’s been waiting for this day but has never really acted it out in his head. He doesn’t know what to do and mentally panics, but Jiwon is just someone everybody gets comfortable with. Just having his presence around calmed Hanbin, and the latter didn’t know if that would still be the case if ever they meet again, until now, when he experiences it for himself. It hasn’t changed.

“It’s been what? Seven years?” Jiwon asks as he steps towards Hanbin and settles beside him.

Jiwon’s musky scent sets something off in Hanbin’s head, he’s just not sure what. He wants to take a step away, but they were best friends and this isn’t the closest they got, so what’s wrong?

Hanbin has never really acknowledged the fact that people grow apart is what’s wrong. Time does that. One moment, you know one person inside out, you know him better than yourself. You’re accustomed to his moods, to his favorite song, to his morning routine, to the twinkle in his eyes when he smiles. Three blinks away and he’s a changed person. He’s a stranger.

“Yeah. Seven.”

“How are you? What do you do?”

“I’m doing great, I think? I’m an Illustrator.”

Jiwon tilts his head to one side in thought, “You never seemed like the type.”

“Well, people change.” Hanbin hopes he doesn’t sound bitter. “What about you? What brought you back?”

“I’m not sure. I just needed to breathe, I guess?”

“Can you,” Hanbin pauses, “breathe now?”

A corner of Jiwon’s mouth curls up when he shakes his head, “Not yet.” He then clears his throat, something he never had to do. “Do you remember all those times we went here?”

Hanbin looks at him dead in the eye, “Did you think I would forget?”

Hanbin doesn’t remember how they first met. He also can’t remember a time when Jiwon hasn’t lived across the road. Their parents are close friends so it’s only natural that they get along, Jiwon tugging alongside his mother to visit Hanbin’s and play. What Hanbin remembers though, is that Jiwon has always worn a cap over his head, and that he’s the one to make bunny teeth adorable, at least in Hanbin's eyes.

Jiwon is a playful child who can’t last a minute without moving about. Hanbin prefers to sit around but he naturally picks up some of Jiwon’s traits including that. 

When soccer gets introduced to the two by Jiwon’s father who was a coach to the national team, they find that Jiwon has a knack for it. Hanbin doesn’t mind that one bit. What he pays attention to is the way Jiwon’s father glows at every one of Jiwon’s good kicks, at every goal kicked. He doesn’t realize that he begins to pine for an attention that is never his to begin with.

They are twelve years old then, and Hanbin is envious of the fact that Coach Kim allows Jiwon to get dirtied up and kick ball, is always there for his son, always encourages him. Meanwhile, Hanbin’s father is rarely home from his corporate job, and even when he is, he only talks to Hanbin about school, and how he needs to ‘stop fooling around and start hitting the books instead’.

__

The world is enormous and Jiwon’s dreams are just as big. In contrary, he and Hanbin are both young, living in a small town that hindered them from seeing far.

Hanbin admires Jiwon, admires that the boy knows what he wants. He is talented in what he does and has a future set out for him despite the circumstances, despite the fact that the only facility they have is a soccer ball, and this makeshift field that needs a lot of mowing.

He usually plays with Jiwon even though he can never catch up and the boy only makes fun of him for his short-comings, but today he’s sitting on the hill looking over Jiwon who kicks the ball to the net and Hanbin has to bury his nose in a book for upcoming exams.

Jiwon’s father isn’t home for once and won’t be for months, as he’s busy training his team for an important competition.

“Doesn’t that tire you?” Jiwon asks as he plops down next to Hanbin who doesn’t feel him coming.

“Tire me?” Hanbin asks incredulously. “I mean, look at you. Who looks more tired between us?” He motions to Jiwon whose shirt clings to his body due to sweat and he scoots away.

Jiwon chuckles, “I’m not the one getting his brains fried.”

“I’m not the one who has everything laid out for him,” Hanbin says, and the words surprise them both.

Jiwon shoots him a look, jaw clenching, before he ups and leaves Hanbin to his thoughts.

Hanbin truthfully doesn’t mean it that way. It’s a mistake to have let the words slip from his mouth, but he doesn’t mean it that way. Jiwon will be going away to the city for high school on a scholarship, and Hanbin doesn’t think he can get used to that. The possibilities scare him because he knows how Jiwon can get so goal-driven and so dedicated to the sport. What if Jiwon doesn’t come home on weekends as promised? What if he doesn’t call? What if he forgets about him?

Hanbin doesn’t always hate himself but why wasn’t he born ten months earlier? Why isn’t he smart and talented? That way, he can go to high school with Jiwon. Is that too much to ask?

He gets up on his feet and begins to run, hoping Jiwon hasn’t gotten far. Fortunately, he sees Jiwon on the sidewalk, obviously upset from the way he walks.

“Hyung!” Hanbin calls as he closes the distance between and the boy just continues on walking as though he doesn’t hear a thing.

“Hyung! Hey!” Hanbin grabs Jiwon’s arm and stands in front of him, causing him to stop. Jiwon looks at him as if to say ‘what?’.

Hanbin pauses to catch his breath, and realizes just now how puberty has come for his best friend sooner. It’s obvious in their height difference as he has to angle his face up so they see eye to eye. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’d never mean it like that.

“It’s just-you’re just so great, you know? You love what you do and you’re so great at it. You know what you want to do, and most people don’t, including me. I just—I’d never catch up to you. And I guess I’m scared that you’ll meet greater people. I’m scared that you’ll forget about me.”

“Did you think I would forget?” Jiwon asks rhetorically, unable to prevent a smile from spreading wide on his face. “Don’t be stupid, Hanbin.” He then ruffles Hanbin’s hair. “You’re my best friend in the whole world! How can I even think to do that?”

Jiwon locks an arm around Hanbin and the latter tries to push him away, “Let’s go home!”

They walk towards home. “Um, I know I just let you know how great you are and all, but you kind of stink.”

Jiwon just laughs, the vibration reaching Hanbin in their proximity. He stiffens, because finally, everything falls into place and makes sense. It’s like a wake-up call, except it’s not annoying like his alarm clock.

Jiwon is ‘great and all’ but this is different. It’s not normal for Hanbin to feel flushed just because Jiwon smiled at him with his bunny teeth. It’s not normal to feel like his heart is going to burst any minute soon just because Jiwon holds him like he’s a stuffed toy. It’s not normal to be jealous towards the soccer ball just because it gets to play with Jiwon and he can’t. Feeling like this isn’t normal, nor is it platonic. That’s what Hanbin realizes.

__

They’re growing up, and it stops being a scary thought after some time. Hanbin realizes that he doesn’t need to focus on the things he lacks, but rather, work hard to fill them up. He has decided to follow after Jiwon and enrol in his high school, and when he thinks about it that way, he stops feeling like Jiwon is even going away. Their families have decided on it and they will room together in about 365 winks.  How long can that be? Besides, Jiwon will be home on the weekends.

It’s Jiwon’s last summer before high school and he allows himself to rest for once, and Hanbin treasures every second of that day. It is, after all, all they have before Jiwon has to go away.

It’s unusually cloudy, and the breeze is less humid on the top of the hill. They’re both lying on their backs under the tree, and Hanbin is trying to take his mind away from the person next to him by watching as the leaves filter the light.

He thinks that Jiwon is napping but he doesn’t consider checking, afraid that he is wrong and Jiwon will catch him staring.

“Ten years from now, do you think we’d still be here?” The question surprises Hanbin. He makes the mistake of turning to his best friend. Jiwon has his eyes closed, a hand below his head in a leisurely manner. Hanbin watches.

“What do you think?” Hanbin throws the question back.

“I hope so,” Jiwon says quietly, and Hanbin smiles almost automatically. It’s rare for Jiwon to voice out his musings, more so if it’s a question.

Like this, Hanbin can act like they’re not pressed for time.

Jiwon seems to have something else in mind.

His eyes flutter open, and Hanbin doesn’t realize he’s been staring. It doesn’t faze him though. He just lets Jiwon look at him because it’s the most natural thing, second only to falling in love with your best friend.

“Do you want to go home?” Jiwon questions and he begins to get up.

Hanbin shakes his head without missing a beat, “No.” He pulls on Jiwon’s arm so he lies back down. “Can’t we just stay like this for a bit?”

Jiwon nods slightly, and Hanbin takes that moment to throw his arm over Jiwon’s torso, where it probably doesn’t belong, but it’s not the first mistake he’s made. He then leans his forehead against Jiwon’s shoulder and he smells like home.

“You’re being oddly clingy,” Jiwon comments, and their eyes meet. Hanbin wishes that eyes can speak volumes and let Jiwon hear what he can never say. His heart races just at the thought and he hates himself because it’s so wrong. Jiwon will never look at him the same way.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“But you’ll see me next week.”

“Do you promise?”

“We talked about this already.”

“Say it again.”

“I promise.”

__

Jiwon keeps his promise most of the time, makes a call to Hanbin when he can’t due to training in the varsity. Some weeks, Hanbin prefers to keep it that way because he thinks that if he doesn’t see Jiwon much, then he’ll stop feeling things for him. It doesn’t even work, but he still hates how he feels like exploding when he sees that Jiwon has come home with his Nike duffel bag. Sometimes, he just stares out from his window and fights the urge to come down and hang out, to no avail.

A school year passes by, and Hanbin and Jiwon share a room near the campus as planned. Limbs grow, and Hanbin catches up to Jiwon’s height. They can never be equals though. Jiwon, despite being ten months older than he, is the one who likes to play pranks on people. Hanbin wants to be annoyed by it, but he just finds it adorable, considering he doesn’t even see that side of Jiwon when the latter plays ball. It’s like he has a switch somewhere that turns it off, and his eyes see nothing but his goal.

Hanbin wishes he can just tuck his feelings clean, but every day is a struggle because Jiwon is always around, and even when he’s not, he’s still present in Hanbin’s mind. Hanbin wonders if Jiwon still hasn’t noticed anything, hasn’t noticed the lingering stares and how Hanbin always finds him in the cafeteria and in the field, how there are always eyes on him, but it’s not only Hanbin’s.

Jiwon grows into a dashing young man, someone who has a blinding smile and a toned body from all the moving around that he does. He carries with him this air that makes everyone around him ease off and laugh because he’s got a non-offensive sense of humor. He’s perfect and Hanbin isn’t his only admirer. There are a lot more others, who’s got more voice, who makes good chocolates and wraps them in intricate wrappers, yes. Hanbin will know, since Jiwon just gives him the stuff he receives.

Once, Hanbin dares ask him why he doesn’t take interest in anyone.

He’s on the bed with his notebooks with him. Jiwon is on the floor, leaning against Hanbin’s bed while browsing Twitter on his phone.

“Where’d you get the idea that there’s no one?” Jiwon replies, an eyebrow twitching up.

“So there’s someone?”

“Yeah, but the person probably doesn’t like me,” Jiwon shrugs.

“Why not?” Hanbin questions, putting down his textbook for a second. “Have you looked at yourself? I mean—” Jiwon cuts him off.

“Hanbin! You’re not about to confess your undying love for me a second time,” Jiwon teases.

Hanbin falls for it and he feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “You’re hilarious! When did I do that?”

Jiwon turns to Hanbin and props his head up with his hands, “Want me to remind you?” He has this wry look on his face and Hanbin chuckles as he turns away.

“No, thanks!”

__

It’s Hanbin’s junior year when he first gets a taste of alcohol. It’s during a celebratory party for their school’s soccer team because they’ve won the semi-finals and are up for the championship. Not to mention that some members of the team, including Jiwon, have received scholarship offers from prestigious universities. The unsupervised party is hosted at Yunhyeong’s house and it’s exclusive to the soccer team and friends. That’s one of the perks of being friends with the school’s MVP: invites, and free booze. Most of the time though, Hanbin just feels out of his element when he hangs out with Jiwon’s friends. The varsity team is a nice group of people, and they’ve known Hanbin since two years ago when he first tagged along Jiwon for training.

Now is a very good example, because Jiwon leaves him on his own to greet some friends. More often than not, he’s fine with that because the last thing he wants Jiwon to think is that he’s brought with him a kid that he should’ve left home. Hanbin doesn’t want to impose, but he hasn’t made enough connection with the team or their friends, except for Yunhyeong who is always nice enough to personally invite him to every party he hosts.

Yunhyeong is about as tall as Jiwon. He has permed wavy hair that reaches just before his round, brown eyes. Like Jiwon, he is easy to get along with.

Hanbin doesn’t notice Yunhyeong sprouting up from one of the hallways, a drink in his hand and a smile on his face that grows when he sees Hanbin. He throws an arm around Hanbin and pulls him close.

“Binnie!” Hanbin snorts at Yunhyeong’s nickname for him and smiles a little. “Bobby told me that you’d be here. How are you finding the party?” Yunhyeong asks, and from here they can hear the music blaring loud from the sound system and the boy steps according to the trap beat. He pulls Hanbin with him to the living room where the music gets louder.

No one calls Bobby by his real name around here, and Hanbin has found it odd at first, until he realizes that it’s nothing short of special that only he can call him Jiwon.

“It’s cool!”

“Great! It’s not the first time you’ve been here, you should make yourself home! Dance!” Yunhyeong encourages him to dance by showing some of his own. Hanbin doesn’t know how he manages to do that without spilling his drink.

“You should loosen up! Let me get you a drink!” He says and Hanbin tells him ‘no, thanks’ but Yunhyeong has already disappeared.

With nothing to do, Hanbin scans the room and his gaze lands on Jiwon across, and he’s not alone. He’s with Hannah, the cheerleader who has an obvious crush on Jiwon. They’re huddled close as they dance together, and Hannah leans over to whisper something to him and he laughs so it must be something funny. Jiwon doesn’t seem to mind the proximity so Hanbin shouldn’t, too. Every inch of his body rejects the resolution, so when Yunhyeong arrives with his drink, he downs the cup in one go.

It tastes bitter but he likes how the warmth trickles from his throat to his stomach.

“Whoa, easy, tiger. We’ve got lots! Come!” Yunhyeong ushers him to the pantry where the music gets a bit muted out when Yunhyeong closes the door and gives him an opened bottle of vodka, but it’s not like Hanbin reads the label. He takes a gulp with an open throat and Yunhyeong stops him by pulling on his arm.

“Slowly, Binnie,” he says and he leans against a counter top.

Hanbin giggles at the heat pooling in his stomach, and he nods once before taking another swig. And another.

Yunhyeong smiles at him, watching him from the corner of his eye and he puts down his drink to fiddle with his fingers.

“I have a question,” Yunhyeong starts.

“Ask away.” Drink away.

“You’d probably think it’s ridiculous but, are you and Jiwon really just best friends?”

Hanbin almost chokes on his drink. “What do you mean?”

“Are you two seeing each other?”

“What, no!”

Yunhyeong smiles to himself, “His reaction was exactly the same.”

“Why do you ask? Do you like him?”

Yunhyeong shakes his head, “No, I…really wanna get to know you and get close to you but Jiwon doesn’t seem to want that.”

“Why wouldn’t he want that? I believe he likes that we get to hang out together.”

“No,” Yunhyeong looks at him dead in the eye, “You two hang out together.” He huffs. “I swear, it’s like he has marked you and doesn’t want you anywhere near me.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I like that you’re here,” Yunhyeong smiles again, and he does it enough for Hanbin to think that the smile looks good on him. He’s not sure if that makes sense, though. “I mean I like you. I really like you, Hanbin.”

Hanbin is clearly surprised at the words uttered. He hasn’t even thought that this is a possibility, that next to his dazzling best friend, someone will notice him. His world revolves around Jiwon, and until that moment, it’s always been about Jiwon. He hasn’t realized sooner that he can run away from all of that, in someone’s pantry.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything. You’re probably not even—”

Maybe it’s the alcohol acting when Hanbin leans in and brushes his lips against Yunhyeong’s, and it surprises them both.

“—gay,” Yunhyeong finishes his sentence and they both laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Yunhyeong rests a hand on Hanbin’s neck, grazing his thumb on the skin, and he pulls him in.

It rings again in Hanbin’s head: warning bells, but he’s sure as heck that in that moment, he wants it too.

They are both oblivious to the door opening, except the music floods in and a rough voice calls to them like a wakeup call so they have to break away.

“Yun, have you seen—” Jiwon begins but doesn’t end. Hanbin’s cheeks flush red but he doubts it’s because of the alcohol. He knows that Jiwon knows what they’ve been doing, and he’s not sure why he feels like he’s done something wrong, considering the look on Jiwon’s face. He has his jaw clenched and he doesn’t even look at Yunhyeong when he pulls Hanbin away by the hand.

“We’re going home,” he says to no one in particular, but his words are cold and pointed, like shards of glass and Hanbin doesn’t understand why it hurts.

“What is it that you want?” Hanbin shakes Jiwon’s hand off when they got out of Yunhyeong’s because Hanbin doesn’t want to cause havoc in the house. He can sense something from Jiwon, anger coming off in waves and he doesn’t understand. Jiwon has sounded chirpy when he talked to Yunhyeong and it has ended there.

Jiwon rearranges his cap on his head, and takes a deep breath as though to collect himself. “We’re going home,” he repeats, though quietly this time.

“Why? We still have two hours until curfew,” Hanbin protests.

“We’re going home and that’s that!”

Jiwon grabs Hanbin’s wrist and drags him with him.

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m your best friend, not your son,” Hanbin argues but Jiwon just ignores him.

He has thought up scenarios in his head where they walk down the street hand in hand, and it’s never like this where he feels like a dog getting a punishment for doing something wrong. Jiwon is being unreasonably violent, ad his grip on Hanbin’s wrist is so tight that Hanbin can’t help but recoil, though to no avail.

There’s a pain in his head that intensifies due to the movement so he stops fighting. He feels tired, anyway. He just wants to lie down and he can’t do that until they get home.

Jiwon only lets him go when they’re seated at the far end of the bus, and Hanbin looks at his wrist and at the marks that Jiwon’s fingers have left. “You have some ing issues,” he mumbles loud enough for Jiwon to hear. He then leans back on his seat and rubs his temples before he closes his eyes.

They ride in silence, not that they can say much in the two stop ride, but Hanbin has nothing to say. Jiwon has issues and he needs to get over himself. Hanbin wants to leave it at that, wants to call it a night.

They arrive at their stop and Jiwon manhandles him again, as if Hanbin has even half a mind to escape, and even if he does, he has nowhere to go.

“What is your problem? What, are you mad that I made out with your friend?”

Jiwon just laughs out loud as though it is too ridiculous to even be a suggestion. Hanbin wishes that Jiwon would talk to him, and not mock him openly like this. He still doesn’t understand his reasons, or if there’s one in the first place. Having Jiwon treat him like this has made him realize that Jiwon just doesn’t care, and that hurts. Hanbin muses for a second how tight Jiwon’s grip on his wrist is, for it to hurt so much in his chest it feels like someone’s stabbing him.

They get to their building and Jiwon leads them straight to the elevator. When the doors slide closed and Jiwon presses ‘3’, he lets go of Hanbin, right before he pushes him to the wall.

Hanbin doesn’t know what it is that he sees when Jiwon closes in on him and levels his face with his, fist clenched on the wall. His small eyes scream madness, breathing uneven, and it burns Hanbin’s lungs that he struggles to breathe.

There’s a flicker in Jiwon’s eyes that only lasts for a split second. The next thing Hanbin knows, Jiwon’s lips are claiming his, in all the ways that Yunhyeong’s haven’t: with ardour, and anger.

Hanbin can feel it in the way his kisses burn, how Jiwon is pushing him to the wall, and how his fingers pull on his hair so he responds with equal fervor, with all the love he’s harboured for him. Because love is a fire that needs igniting and Hanbin has never had the chance to do so.

He can’t put in thought how much he wants this to last forever but they both hear the elevator ping and it all ends too soon. Jiwon pulls away, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. Hanbin is watching him watch him. He watches as a different light fills Jiwon’s gaze as he stares him in the eye.

The doors slide open and Jiwon curses aloud, “!” He exits the lift and walks away, but not before punching the outside wall.

Hanbin stays, and waits for the thoughts to cloud his mind but nothing comes. He collects his breath as he walks to their flat with the help of the railings. He stops in the doorway when he doesn’t find Jiwon’s shoes there. The lights are out; the house is empty.

He’s lying on his bed when he recognizes the light in Jiwon’s eyes: regret.

__

Hanbin doesn’t remember a time where they talk to each other after that incident.

Jiwon doesn’t come home, and if he does, it’s only to pick up clothes and books.

Hanbin grows increasingly worried and clutches his phone in his hand as he stares at Jiwon’s empty bed on the other side of the room. Jiwon has made no move to call him or send him a message to let him know about his whereabouts. Hanbin doesn’t contact him, thinking he did nothing wrong. He is the victim.

He realizes he was wrong to worry because he sees Jiwon the next day, playing soccer like the usual, and laughing like the usual.

The soccer team has the coming championship in a few days and Hanbin thinks that Jiwon can use the motivation so he gives it a try when Jiwon finally comes home. His scent lingers stronger in the house because he stays this time and lives with Hanbin again, just like they used to. Except, there’s no ‘just like they used to’ because Jiwon shuts down every opportunity that Hanbin makes to talk to him.

Jiwon strides around with purpose. He goes to the bathroom when he has to use it, goes to the library when he needs to study, goes to the field to train. He eats outside, and only comes late when he has to sleep so that he doesn’t have to hang around with Hanbin.

It’s eating at Hanbin from the inside out, and the only time he has the chance to take a good look at Jiwon is when he sleeps. Hanbin doesn’t even deny it, how Jiwon feels more and more like a stranger by the day.

It hurts to think that way, because they’ve spent practically all their lives together. They’re not even adults yet. It’s too early to have fallen apart.

Hanbin tries to reach out, but Jiwon just gets more distant, almost like he’s running away. Hanbin can’t, for the life of him, understand that. In his mind, he didn’t do anything wrong. If Jiwon wants, he can forget what happened in that night, erase that night from his memory, but how would he even know what Jiwon wants when he doesn’t even talk to him, or at least, acknowledge his presence?

__

The big day comes, and Hanbin almost forgets. It’s not until his classmates, Junhoe and Donghyuk, remind him that he remembers to go, even if he doesn’t really feel like it, but he has to, for loyalty’s sake.

“Are you okay? You seem out of it these days,” Donghyuk asks on their way.

Hanbin smiles tiredly, “Yeah.” He laughs inwardly because it’s so ridiculous