Prompt # SSG14: for heartaches, for love

[100xoverfest]

Prompt #: SSG14
Word Count: 19.8
Season: Winter
Genre: Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Angst
Rating: M (R)
Summary: a story that spans twenty-one years of junmyeon and yifan's life. a story of friendship, happiness, misery, fatherhood, death, and love...love above all else. 
A/N (Author's Note): thank you so much hundred times mods for the extreme patience

to my prompter: i'm pretty sure this is NOT what you had in mind. but i just want to say that this fic has become a thorough extension of myself. somehow, it gave me a window to finally write about my feelings. i'm really sorry if this does not reach any of your expectations.

1998, Seoul

Eleven-year-old Wu Yifan feels his skin crawl. His classmates were gawking at him as he makes his way to the end of the aisle, from the door. His teacher’s hand had been warm against his back and rather than being comforted, the touch made his skin crawl in the very slightest.

He’s incredibly nervous and he thinks he’s going to throw up if he didn’t get to his seat soon enough. He’s really going to throw up and his classmates were going to make fun of him and he’s going to get bullied and this school year’s going to suck and, and, and –

“Yifan?”

Yifan, not realizing that he’d unconsciously screwed his eyes shut, bolted them open. He gazed openly at his teacher and the old woman stared at him confusedly.

“Are you okay, child?”

Yifan nodded, the action all jerky and awkward. He hadn’t understood what the teacher had said. His lips remain tightly sealed, not knowing an inch of the language causes that sometimes. His Korean vocabulary was all encompassing in its four words glory.

So Yifan just nodded. He tried to smile and his jaw hurt. He’s made to face the class, there’s approximately twenty-five other students staring at him. Yifan began to become drowsy as he rattled off the introduction he’d memorized by heart.

“Hello, my name is Wu Yifan. I am eleven years old. Nice to meet you.”

Yifan doesn’t remember his classmates’ reaction. The teacher beckoned him to his seat and he sat down beside a boy who’s smiling at him.

“Hi, I’m Junmyeon. I’m eleven too.” The boy said in perfectly accented Mandarin. The language is quickly processed by Yifan’s brain despite it being slightly garbled. He returned the boy’s smile. “My Korean is not good.”

“It’s okay…” Junmyeon ceased and he looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Mandarin, not good. You want…I teach you Korean and,” the Korean gestured to himself, “You…Mandarin?”

The language was heavily accented and Yifan did not catch half of what Junmyeon had said, but he nodded anyway.

And that was the start of it, a nod. Little did Yifan know that he’ll never be able to erase the picture of Junmyeon’s bright smile long into the years.

 

//

2002, Seoul.

At fifteen, Yifan stood at an average of five feet and seven inches. He’s easily tallest amongst his friends and his limbs were all gangly and awkward.

His Korean had gotten a major improvement within the last five years and he’s able to speak the language almost fluently.

Suran Ahjumma, as he liked to refer to his best friend’s mother, was out and the house was free for their perusal. They haven’t even changed out of their sweaty uniforms and their school bags were messily dumped at a corner.

Junmyeon kept swatting at Jongdae, who’s scratching his stinky feet on the protruding embellishments of the coffee table. “When will you stop being so disgusting?” Yifan heard Junmyeon ask before he’s being shoved to the side. Jongdae shrugged, reaching for the bowl of chips.

“Perhaps never?” Jongdae answered. “Just play the movie already. You can’t make Jun Jihyun wait!”

Junmyeon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Demanding.” Before pressing play on the remote. Yifan eyed his best friends in amusement. Their banters were mild in comparison to boys their age. Yifan thought it was convenient since he didn’t really appreciate inter-friendship altercations.

Junmyeon languidly stretched over, splayed his body all over Yifan’s laps. “This is boring.” Yifan chuckled as Junmyeon stared at him from his awkwardly chopped fringe. “But Jinhee kinda looks like Jun Jihyun though.”

Yifan squinted at the screen. “She kinda does? I don’t know.”

Junmyeon cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don’t know? Man, she’s like the prettiest girl in our batch. Kinda like those V.O.X girls, on TV.”

Yifan shrugged, he honestly couldn’t tell if Jinhee was as pretty as Jun Jihyun because he’s never found any girl pretty before. Yifan thought he should find it odd, but in retrospect, he couldn’t really care.

“I don’t know.” He reiterated. Junmyeon looked at him funnily and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Wu. You’re so weird.” So saying, he grabbed Yifan’s hand and placed it on top of his head. “But can you please scratch my head?”

It was then Yifan first felt it. It was like electricity surging through the place Junmyeon had touched. Yifan stared at his best friend and did his best to rake his fingers through Junmyeon’s oddly chopped hair.

His hand got clammy and he wondered why he felt like he needed to go to the bathroom because his stomach was doing all sorts of odd things. Jongdae continued to watch Jun Jihyun be pretty on screen and Yifan continued to stare at Junmyeon who’s already dozed off on his lap.

Fifteen-year-old Yifan didn’t know why he felt that about his best friend. But as Junmyeon gradually slept and snored on top of his thighs, Yifan had the oddest realization: he wanted to be this close to Junmyeon, every minute, every hour, every day.

It seemed odd, he didn’t know what to call it.

//

2004, Seoul

Yifan started to realize the reason why he didn’t find Jinhee pretty nor Jun Jihyun prettier.

He was seventeen years old when he realized he was attracted to boys. It wasn’t a horrifying realization. They were lounging on Jongdae’s room as the other teenager whined about wanting to get wasted, when it happened.

Jongdae’s parents divorced that year. The group wanted to distract him. Jongdae didn’t let it show but Yifan knew the implications of divorce. Either mom or dad was going to leave the house soon and build another family. Honestly, it baffled Yifan. Why do people want to get tied down if they were just going to tire of each other and eventually leave to repeat the process all over again? He thought it was stupid. But it didn’t make it any less painful to swallow. Jongdae masked it nicely though.

Yifan looked at the screen, they were watching Mission Impossible and he thought Ethan Hunt was really, really good looking. Yifan vaguely wondered what it felt like to be kissed by Ethan Hunt. He furrowed his eyebrows. What the fuck?

 He had excused himself and ran to the bathroom. He stared at the mirror; he looked ugly to be honest. And he was tall and lanky and very, very unattractive. Yifan splashed water on his face as he went over the notions of wanting to kiss Ethan Hunt, a noticeably male, fictional character.

“What the fuck?” He said to himself. “What the actual fuck, Wu Yifan.”

Yifan blinked repeatedly and clutched the sink. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at himself on the mirror and repeatedly whispering what the fuck to himself.

“Yah!” Junmyeon’s voice had cut through his sudden identity crisis. His heartrate increased and yet again, Yifan muttered another colorful string of profanities at his body’s odd reactions. It was betraying him. “Are you alive, or have you drowned in the toilet?”

Yifan laughed, unsteadily. “Junmyeon what the hell?!”

“Oh, you’re alive!” Junmyeon chuckled. “Anyway, hurry the hell up, we’re playing ball. Meet us downstairs when you’re finished.”

“Don’t forget to flush the toilet!” Came Jongdae’s voice. Yifan shook his head

 

Summer of 2004 was sweltering hot. But every time Junmyeon’s sweaty skin brushed against Yifan’s, the latter felt an odd sense of chilling anxiety ran down his spine. He couldn’t concentrate on the friendly game they were playing, his wits scattering beyond his control.

Yifan received a ball to his face due to his inability to concentrate. He groaned, falling onto the sizzling concrete of the basketball court. The sun blinded him.

“Damn,” Junmyeon reached an arm out and Yifan helplessly stared at his best friend. Junmyeon’s touch felt like it electrified Yifan’s skin. “You okay, you look like you’ve eaten something bad for lunch Wu. Feeling terrible?”

Yifan nodded as he heaved himself up. “I don’t think I can play anything today. This fucking heat is getting to me.”

Yifan had high tailed out of their game even before Junmyeon could say anything. He needed to sort out his mind because these weird phenomena were getting out of hand.

 

It took three months for Yifan to admit to himself that he was gay. He was generally unafraid of his realization. After all, no one had to know and it wasn’t like he craved male attention that much to bring problems to himself. He just needed to stop overthinking every touch from his male friends and he was going to be fine. And if they knew, they weren’t going to judge him, right?

Yifan wasn’t really sure.

//

2005, Seoul

Yifan was three months short of his eighteenth birthday when his parents divorced. Four months prior he’d come out to his mother. She was very accepting, told Yifan he was perfectly okay if he was attracted to the same gender. Yifan could sense his mother’s distress but he didn’t comment on it. Her acceptance had been enough.

“Is it okay if I tell your father for you?” Xinran had asked him. The concern and imminent worry injected in his mother’s voice were palpable. Yifan chose to remain silent as he nodded and thanked her profusely.

His parents were blissfully unaware that Yifan had been listening to them argue and fight every night after his coming out. He braced himself against the door of his bedroom as his parents screamed at each other from the hallway. He closed his eyes, covered his ears, banging his head against the door every time his father uttered words dipped with malice.

What was so wrong about him anyway? He asked himself. Am I a fucking abomination just because I prefer boys?

“This is your fault!” His father had screamed. “You think this is natural. You are so complacent!”

His mother held on told her husband every reason available on the surface of the planet. That yes, nothing was wrong with Yifan. Yifan’s father had slapped his mother for that, the sound oscillated against the walls of their house. Yifan’s heart froze, he stood up and threw the door open. His mother was on the floor, clutching her reddened cheek as she stared at her husband in shock.

“This is your fault.” The man seethed. Yifan found himself surging forward, unthinking, when he punched the same man who has been feeding him for years.

“Do not raise a hand on my mother.”

His father had a busted lip. The man had cuffed him, hard, that he half-choked Yifan and dragged him out of the house. “You think you’re all good now because your mother defended you?! Well go fend for yourself, I’m not having a son who’s a fucking faggot.”

Yifan had kissed the cold cement after his father had slammed the door against his face. Yifan wanted to scream, and he was so angry his fury manifested as tears that quietly trailed down his scuffed cheeks. Yifan hated himself for crying. He wasn’t some weak bastard who couldn’t handle this. He inhaled and wiped his face.

“Fuck you.” he whispered against the door of his childhood home. He felt fucking terrible, who was he kidding? He wanted to cry so badly. Instead he bit his own tongue so hard, he could have drawn blood.

Two blocks away, was the Kim’s residence. It was already 2 A.M and it was probably such an inconsiderate thing to do but Yifan was out of options; either he was going to let off some steam and beat someone up so badly or he’d go and disturb Junmyeon. He chose the latter.

 He got pebbles and threw it at Junmyeon’s window.

Three minutes later, a grouchy Junmyeon poked his head out of the window and stared angrily at Yifan. “What the fuck, Wu? It’s fucking 2 AM what do you want?” His best friend hissed. Yifan chuckled, Junmyeon looked cute.

“Let’s go have beer.”

Yifan knew Junmyeon sensed his distress. His best friend had a sharp tongue but he was also perceptive as hell. Junmyeon only sighed, as he nodded. He jumped off his window a few moments later, quietly landing on soft grass. “Eomma’s gonna fucking have my head.” He was grinning.

“Then let’s come back before she realizes you’re gone.”

//

The convenience store sold cheap beer. They seamlessly lied to the half-asleep kid manning the register to procure some equally cheap cigarettes. They dumped their illicit haul on the plastic tables outside. Yifan laughed as Junmyeon wheezed and coughed on his first cigarette.

“Why do you even like this thing?” Junmyeon complained, eyeing the lighted cig in distaste. Yifan answered after taking a deep inhale, charring his cigarette in half. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Junmyeon had rolled his eyes. They don’t talk about heavy things, like their impending CSATs and the pressure of being admitted into the best universities. Junmyeon wanted to be a lawyer so his grades were top notch. On the other hand, Yifan dabbled on fine arts or music, if shit goes bad, he’ll just get a business major. He was unsure. They were unsure. They don’t talk about Yifan’s apparent distress either and Yifan had been infinitely thankful for that. Junmyeon was a great friend, he was someone who was willing to be there so that you don’t have to wallow on your misery alone, he won’t force you to open up either. Yifan didn’t really like to talk. After all, how the hell does he even tell his best friend, that he’s gay and that his father probably will disown him for it?

So instead they drank piss-warm beer and Yifan continued to smoke amidst exchanging mundane anecdotes and privately snickering about their nonexistent romantic lives.

“I’m not really that excited to get laid anyway.” Junmyeon explained. “I don’t know how to handle women and Jongdae says they’re fucking insane. Don’t know how true that is.”

“Bet it’s true considering half of the school’s population hates his guts.” Yifan answered. “I don’t know much about girls either. Not too excited to get laid either.”

“We have some serious hormone imbalance going on here. Puberty did us wrong.”

Yifan laughed, “Screw you Myeon.”

“Anyway, I’m really damn excited for college. You know, hope we could get into SNU or what. Then we’re going to have college girls running after us because we’re gonna move on from this phase and we’re gonna be so fucking hot everyone will want us.”

“Doubt that.” Yifan chuckled. “You’re a midget, no one’s gonna want you.”

“Ah fuck you Wu, you’re a lanky noodle so no one’s going to want you either.”

Yifan laughed hard. At that moment, he was really thankful for Junmyeon’s existence and not because he harbored some weird feelings for his best friend but just because he was a great person who’d drink beer with Yifan at 3 am and risk his mother’s wrath. Junmyeon would be the person who knew Yifan just needed someone to distract him from his thoughts.

Junmyeon was a good person, and an even better best friend.

 

Yifan’s parents had divorced three months before he turned eighteen. His father had looked at him in disgust. His mother didn’t bother to give her would-be ex-husband anything he could brag about.

The house was under his mother’s name so Yifan’s bastard father didn’t have the chance to stake claim on the property. Yifan had admired his mom and her fierce protection of him. Above all else, his mother accepted him for who he was and Yifan was more than thankful for that.

 

Three months past his eighteenth birthday and a few months shy of their high school graduation, Yifan had met Zhang Yixing.

 The other was a transferee from China who enrolled in the middle of the school year to get his final units for the CSATs. The student was charming, and Yifan found himself enthralled.

Yifan knew it was taboo but Yixing was the first person who had given Yifan this sort of indescribable urge to be in a relationship with someone.

The friendship quickly turned into something else. Yifan liked Yixing a lot and apparently Yixing somehow returned the gesture. They started dating, well if you could call shared lunches, movie marathons and awkward kisses, as such. It was a brief affair as some people just didn’t know how not to snoop on his business.

The rumor (which was undeniably true) got out of hand so fast.

“So, heard from the seniors that you’re fucking the new transferee. Or are you the one who’s getting fucked?”

Yifan sighed, looking around as the infamous squad of junior pests surround him.

“So?” Yifan tried to keep his tone cool and composed as he thought of the quickest way to get rid of the bullies. He wasn’t much of a fan of getting into trouble since he’s about to graduate for fuck’s sake.

“What so? Is it true?”

Yifan tips up an eyebrow. They were some feisty kids. “And why do I have to tell you?”

The taunt launched an aggressive, hormonally imbalanced teenager at him. Just because Yifan preferred boys, it didn’t mean he couldn’t throw a mean punch himself. He had a blackbelt in Hapkido for that.

The junior was furious and Yifan had no idea where all the ire was coming from. He didn’t even know these kids and he wasn’t one for getting into fights either. He kicked the first teenager who launched his fist at him and the younger boy promptly kissed the ground. Yifan was about to hightail the fuck out of there if it weren’t for the rest of the boys surrounding him. “Ah, fuck.”

He was outnumbered, seven to one.

Thankfully, by some weird ass miracle, Junmyeon appeared from the corner. Yifan stared at him and Junmyeon hadn’t thought twice about punching the boy nearest to him, he didn’t think about what this would do to his college application. Junmyeon was the senior representative as well as the president of the student council and he obviously shouldn’t have been involved with some altercation even if it concerned his best friend.

But Junmyeon got into that fight.

The brawl dispersed when a teacher came to break it off. Yifan had a bleeding brow and Junmyeon sported a cut-up lip. The teacher looked at Junmyeon very balefully. Yifan’s head really hurt so he didn’t hear the teacher’s disappointments about the student body president’s actions, said in rapid fire Korean.

“Jesus, Kim.” Yifan sighed. He tried to glance at Junmyeon’s who’s lying on the infirmary bed next to him. “You shouldn’t have done that. It’s gonna be my damn fault when you don’t get into SNU. Your mother’s going to fucking wring my neck.”

Junmyeon chuckled. “You’re welcome you fucking ungrateful bastard. Those juniors were going to pulverize your bones.”

“As if I couldn’t handle them.” Yifan shook his head, amused at the conversation they were having. “Let’s just hope the school wouldn’t let this incident leak into your college applications.”

They were quiet for a long time. Yifan’s brow was throbbing in pain and he began to hate those junior kids for doing this to him.

“Wu?”

“Hmm?”

“Rumors are going around the campus about you and that Zhang kid, how true are they?”

Yifan hadn’t understood why the words automatically jangled his nerves.

“That I’m fucking him?” Yifan’s tone didn’t belie his anxieties. He just hoped Junmyeon wouldn’t ask more questions.

“I don’t know.” Junmyeon answered. “Anyway, I don’t really give a shit about whom you’re trying to fuck. Just, I don’t know, tell me alright? You’re a shitty friend, but you’re still my damn best friend. I’ll go help you beat people up.”

It wasn’t an outright acceptance. Yifan looked at Junmyeon. He wanted to tell him that yes, the rumors were true but he just didn’t want to risk his friendship with him if Junmyeon heard the truth straight from his mouth.

Yifan was really a shitty friend, but he was also Junmyeon’s damn best friend and more than anything he treasured his relationship with Junmyeon a lot.

“Just because the Zhang kid and I talk in a language not everyone understands doesn’t mean I’m fucking him.” Yifan said, already feeling sorry for Yixing. “I don’t even know who started those wild rumors. The juniors really love stirring up shit now, huh.”

Junmyeon’s obvious exhale of relief stirred something bitter inside the deepest parts of Yifan. He didn’t understand why he felt so disappointed…saddened by his best friend’s relief. Why did being gay matter so much?

Yifan screwed his eyes shut and mentally counted to calm his emotions.

Why did he have to be like this? Why did Junmyeon’s acceptance mattered so much? Why did it matter so much?

Fuck, I hate this.

“Well, juniors are really some of the shittiest folks we have in this place. Damn insane, if you asked me.”

//

Surprisingly, both Yifan and Junmyeon managed to get into Seoul National University. Their mothers wept in joy, told long tales about their endless prayers in the temples and that they had very smart sons who would become successful people one day.

Three days before their high school graduation, Yixing quietly called it quits between them. The other Chinese had gotten into Yonsei with Jongdae. Yixing had told him he had been a good boyfriend, and nothing was wrong with him but they were going to be attending different universities and Yixing didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with him.

Yifan was relieved for reasons he couldn’t ponder.

 

Their graduation ceremony was a grand affair. Junmyeon’s very supportive family huddled around him for pictures and Junmyeon smiled brightly in each one. He was their batch’s valedictorian, the school’s pride.

Yifan had smiled to himself when their picture was taken – they’re connected by the hip, the height difference is very noticeable now – and they both grinned at Mrs. Kim’s old Nikon.

Everyone knew Junmyeon as the poster son of a typical middle-class family but the fact that Junmyeon helped him beat up problematic underclassmen would be a tale for following years.

//

2006, Seoul.

At 19, Yifan and Junmyeon were freshmen in SNU. The former was a fine arts major; the latter, a law major. The first few months of college could be akin to being tossed inside a washing machine.

The transition phase was great, nothing too shocking. Yifan’s new-found independence was also a bonus, but the real problem was adjusting to Junmyeon’s constant presence in his life.

Yifan didn’t understand why being so close to his best friend caused a new wave of anxiety. Junmyeon has been his friend for almost ten years, and it has been a good decade with him and yet, Yifan couldn’t understand why bile seemed to rise up his throat whenever Junmyeon was too near and pranced inside their shared dorm with only his boxers on.

Yifan didn’t want to harbor such thoughts about his best friend, but Junmyeon made it hard for him.

//

The first few months were quite alright. Two weeks before the new term, they got a place near SNU, a good-enough-apartment for broke college kids, who weren’t going to be depending on their parents for rent money.

The apartment had two rooms, a tiny bathroom, and a kitchen and sitting room divided by a breakfast counter. It was bare, sans a ratty old mattress which they’ve discarded for health reasons. Junmyeon unscientifically deduced they were going to get dysentery just by going near it.

Yifan’s mom and Junmyeon’s parents were there when they moved, armed with new beds, mattresses, kitchen utensils and a stove. Junmyeon’s mother had joked that if they were going to want to watch television they’ll have to buy it themselves. Junmyeon had begged and pouted enough, his mother relented and bought them a puny set for the sitting room.

The first few months of college were glorious. Independence was the trend and Yifan was following the tide. They went to college parties thrown by upperclassmen, got sloshed too many times to properly function at nine A.M lectures the following day. In retrospect, life was pleasant.

 

 Life was even more pleasant when Lu Han came into the picture.

He’d been a few months older than Yifan, they were in the same department and both equally enthralled with bad poetry. Yifan had met Han during an open mic held at some obscure society house outside their campus. The other had been so beautiful, doe eyes, slender neck and the most glorious tuft of silver hair. He looked like he was taken out of those manhwas or Yifan was less than sober from drinking plastic cup after plastic cup of the questionably fruity liquid being passed around. 

It was 2007.

Han had smiled at him, told Yifan he liked Monet more than Picasso or Da Vinci and that he didn’t like poetry that much but his friend had urged him to give it a go.

 Yifan had been literally swept off his feet. He knew Han swings that way, he just knew and by the end of the night, Han had typed in his phone number on Yifan’s N95.

The dating was brief and by their third date, Yifan had bracketed Han against the door of his own dorm room, kissed marks down his neck while his hand was down the older’s pants.

The relationship was great even though it was tightly kept under wraps. Yifan contented himself with the smallest things, he liked slotting Han’s fingers against his own under the table, he liked getting to leave a lingering kiss on the man’s lips behind closed doors. Yifan had been so contented.

The bliss lasted for ten months and he was so in love with the doe eyed man. He thought it was something that would have lasted.

Han was, considerably, the root cause of Yifan’s first heart break. Yifan had his first taste of what it meant to be cruel when Han had enumerated the reasons he called it quits. The thing was, it was more than the standard ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse nor was it, ‘it’s just not working anymore’.

“You can’t give me what I want.”

Yifan’s mind reeled. And he couldn’t find answers, couldn’t find the words to defend himself. Yifan stood there and soaked up everything Lu Han had told him and it lanced, it hurt. He felt like he’d stood there and bled.

Yifan wanted to ask him, what more could you want? They were in a society where the littlest thing such as being capable to love, regardless if it’s of the same gender, is ostracized. Yifan would have given Han the world if the world wouldn’t be hell bent on destroying them.

Maybe he was a coward and maybe Han just wanted to be paraded around because he was honestly someone that should have been paraded around. But Yifan didn’t have courage to show the world who he was and all he could do was to love, truly and sincerely even if they were only the ones who knew. For some people, maybe it just wasn’t enough.

Yifan didn’t cry; he couldn’t cry not in front of the first person who’d broken his heart.

Yifan clearly remembered Junmyeon’s slumped form. He had been poring over his books then. Law wasn’t easy but it’s as if Junmyeon had been built for the profession. His best friend had stared at him, and Junmyeon had this look in his eyes. It was something Yifan saw in him, back when they were twelve when Yifan had fallen off his bicycle and almost broke his tibia, when they were sixteen when Yifan got severely reprimanded for ditching late night self-study sessions at school, when he came out to his mother at seventeen. Junmyeon quietly saved the essay he’d been typing and folded his laptop in place. “Do you wanna get a drink? Jongdae was offering.”

Yifan would always be infinitely grateful for Junmyeon’s uncanny ability to read him like he’s an open book.

The taller sat beside Junmyeon on the couch and cradled his head on his palms. He was so dizzy and suddenly he had this urge to tuck his head under Junmyeon’s chin, hug him and maybe just forget the whole damn world for a while.

“You tired?” Yifan translated this into you okay and he shook his head.

“I could do with some alcohol though. Let’s get wasted.”

Junmyeon chuckled and threw his arm on top of Yifan’s broad shoulders to pull him closer. Yifan wanted to melt against Junmyeon’s side. He closed his eyes.

//

Seoul, 2008

Losing Han had set off Yifan’s self-destruct button.

That’s the thing about first time heart breaks. Yifan couldn’t compare it with the things that had pained him before so generally there was nothing to compare it to. Yifan didn’t know how to cope.

His misery was evident in his art, clear lines of black and pale greys– Junmyeon had told him it was ambiguous as fuck – and when he used colors everything was in such a disarray it was almost nauseating. But it had been some of his best paintings. And maybe, that’s why artists work better under pressure or when in pain because they have something to channel their emotions into.

But it wasn’t enough for Yifan. Han’s words echoed through him, resonated into the deepest parts of his conscious and he couldn’t shake the thoughts out of his head. It was torture.

He’d distracted himself with people. Independence was nice and fucking without strings was nicer. Yifan realized that things were better without commitment. After all, why bother with a relationship when in the first place all people wanted was to get him out of his clothes. It was freeing, at first, or maybe he’d been too drunk to notice how miserable he was.

And there’s Junmyeon, the ever constant in his life as he spiraled into a mess he created in his own volition.

He’s not sure how Junmyeon managed to not ask where he’d been when he reeked of cigarette smoke and a stranger’s perfume. He’d spent the better part of 2008 fucking people to get Lu Han out of his system. It was a stretch and every time Yifan went home, he hated himself a little bit more.

He was drunk enough one time, swaying his way inside his and Junmyeon’s apartment. The other man had been watching the television. Yifan’s head ached and he reeked of sex. It was overwhelming; he just couldn’t compartmentalize everything that’s been hitting him from all sides.

For the first and last time, he cried. He pressed his face onto Junmyeon’s shirt and clutched at the fabric until he could feel his nails dig against the skin of his own palm. Junmyeon hadn’t said anything as he held him. He was a ship sailing steadily amidst the raging seas that were Yifan’s emotions.

Junmyeon hadn’t asked questions. He let Yifan cry himself dry and ran his palms against Yifan’s back. Yifan wished Junmyeon had said something instead.

 

There’s no process to moving on. You can’t simply tell yourself to stop – stop longing for someone, stop caring for someone, stop loving someone – it doesn’t work that way. You’d bled until there was nothing left and then time would do its wonders, help push the memories at the back of your head so they don’t haunt you even when you’re awake.

Junmyeon’s existence had helped. Yifan realized he needed a constant, something or in his case, someone, to be always there. Junmyeon was always there.

His best friend had helped pick up the pieces. Junmyeon’s company was more than a slap on band-aid for Yifan’s deep metaphorical wounds. Junmyeon anchored him to reality; he reminded Yifan that there was so much more to life.

It wasn’t moving on but Junmyeon have always managed to fill the gaps that people have left in Yifan’s life.

//

 Seoul, 2009

A tragedy had befallen Junmyeon’s family the following year.

And for the first time in his life, Yifan had seen Junmyeon –  his best friend who always seemed so strong, so resilient; Junmyeon who’d fought all sorts of odds and came out victorious – fall and sob.

Lee Suran, Junmyeon’s mother, died in 2009.  

It was cancer, something Junmyeon didn’t even know existed, until the moment he had to endure the fact that his mother had passed away. He couldn’t even say goodbye.

“It was your mother’s wish.”

Junmyeon looked gaunt wearing a funeral suit, he was half dead as he stared at his mother’s picture.

“I’m sorry, son. But your mother, she loved you.”

It was all painful for Yifan and he wondered how Junmyeon could endure so much. The man had cried once and Yifan didn’t even think of comforting him because he knew Junmyeon didn’t deal with pain like he does. Yifan tried to be there, tried to let Junmyeon know he would always be there for him.

After Suran had been laid to rest; Junmyeon emerged a changed man.

Yifan watched him succumb to depression, a void so deep even Yifan failed to completely pull him out of it.

Junmyeon was totally damaged and out of control. He coped with his mother’s loss with alcohol and sex. Yifan couldn’t count the seemingly endless number of nights when Junmyeon carried intoxication like it was his shadow.

Kim Junmyeon was probably the last person who broke Yifan’s heart. Yes, at that time, Yifan realized he was completely in love with his best friend.

It was a gradual thought that culminated into an eventual realization. In retrospect, he has always been in love with Junmyeon, ever since they were fifteen when Yifan began to see himself with his best friend in all his future plans.

 It wasn’t like Yixing or even Lu Han because Yifan loved Junmyeon when he was at his worst. Yifan loved Junmyeon when Junmyeon had been incapable of loving someone else.

And Junmyeon broke his heart because he refused to let Yifan in. Yifan didn’t want to fix him, Yifan wanted to be there as Junmyeon fixed himself.

But Junmyeon wanted to hide behind a façade; that’s just how he is. After all, it’s Yifan who was always in constant need of everything Junmyeon could offer. Junmyeon didn’t need Yifan like how Yifan needed Junmyeon.

//

Seoul, 2010

Yifan had been there when Junmyeon fell in love.

Bae Joohyun was beautiful, an underclassman a year younger than them. She was a music major, with the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes. She smiled at Junmyeon, the kind of smile where everyone would have fallen in love within moments of being near her.

Joohyun pulled Junmyeon out of his shell, the same shell wherein he gradually destroyed himself. Joohyun fixed him, because Junmyeon had allowed her to. It was beautiful; Junmyeon was finally happy again.

Believe it or not, Yifan was so glad for them.

Yifan had prioritized Junmyeon’s happiness and it didn’t matter that the person he’s always been in love with was falling for another human being, who’s so perfect Yifan could never begin to compare himself with.

He was in so much pain, but it didn’t matter. That’s the essence of loving someone.

You see, Yifan wanted Junmyeon to be the subject of his most treasured art works, Junmyeon was his biggest inspiration.

Junmyeon was still Yifan’s biggest inspiration, he painted because Junmyeon was falling in love with a person he could never be. Yifan made them his inspiration, he painted about Junmyeon’s love.

 He made them his direst inspirations.

Yifan’s theory about how artists produced better works when they’re in pain, was proven correct for the second time. In 2010, Yifan had painted the most gorgeous portraits, lauded by his professors, appreciated by connoisseurs and casual collectors alike.  He transformed his pain into paintings; his suffering was beautiful when projected into a canvas.

He worked better at the crack of dawn, ironically. Because that’s when he missed Junmyeon the most. Yifan realized then, that he’d always be longing for someone who will remain a character in a love story that will never be his.

//

Seoul, 2011.

Junmyeon proposed to Bae Joohyun after a year of dating.

She cried as Junmyeon slipped the diamond engagement ring – the ring Yifan had designed for her on Junmyeon’s request – on her finger. Yifan stood in the background, smiling widely.

Junmyeon was pulverizing the crushed remains of his heart but it was okay, Junmyeon was so fucking happy when she said yes.

Junmyeon kissed her; she wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer. They painted a pretty picture and Yifan would have wanted to capture this memory forever.

His best friend stared at him, there was this smile on his face and Yifan thought he was so beautiful. Yifan smiled back and in that moment, he wished Junmyeon love and happiness above all else.

His chest ached.

 

--

Junmyeon’s body is warm as he pressed against Yifan’s side. He quietly nursed his warming can of beer while Yifan sighed and inhaled another drag from his cigarette. The smoke produced a hypnotizing billow.

“Wu?”

“Hmm?”

“I just wonder if you ever dated anybody in the last few years. You never told me anything.”

Yifan chuckled as he stubbed the charred remains of his cigarette.

“I think I dated once. Lots of them are one night stands to be fucking honest.”

Junmyeon scoffed and shook his head. “I had an inkling you were sleeping around. Nice huh, fucking without strings attached.”

“I wish I could say that.” Yifan said, “It doesn’t bring much satisfaction. I wanted to experience that soul searing feeling everyone’s hung up on. But it’s clearly not for me after all.”

Junmyeon took a long gulp of his liquor and remained mute for an indefinite amount of time. He turned around and stared at Yifan.

“Will you tell me something, have you ever fallen in love?”

Yifan volleyed Junmyeon’s gaze and there was a smile on his face. “Yes.”

“Who?”

Yifan didn’t think too much when he answered, clearly and honestly, a simple word: “You.”

Junmyeon continued to stare at him and then he laughed, shoving Yifan’s broader form. “Ah fuck you Wu, seriously fuck you.”

Yifan was so good at playing pretend and masking his emotions around Junmyeon that hiding his pain had become child’s play. He laughed with his best friend who thought his honest confession was nothing but a good joke.

“Can’t you just be serious for once!” Junmyeon laughed and tackled him towards the ground. Yifan’s heart raced and ached at the same time. “I was trying to be all concerned and shit. You fucking bastard, you scared me!”

Yifan continued to laugh and he sounded so genuinely amused to his ears; he wondered how he made it work.

“But Wu, just if you ever meet someone, tell me alright.”

“I will.” Yifan answered still laughing, “But it’s probably not gonna happen since I’m already so in love with you.”

“Stop it!”

It hurt, a lot. But Yifan was still grateful for a lot of things. He’s grateful that he has someone like Junmyeon in his life, even if they will never be more than anything but friends. He’ll be grateful and he hoped that he’ll always be in Junmyeon’s life, even if it’s for heartaches or for love.

--

Seoul, 2012

Bae Joohyun looked even more beautiful in a white dress.

Yifan stood and watched beside his best friend who was trying so hard to contain his tears.

Junmyeon looked at Joohyun like she was his whole world, and Yifan looked at Junmyeon like he was his whole world.

The ache calmly settled into Yifan’s chest and it wasn’t something that seared; Yifan welcomed the pain for he vowed to himself that this was the end of it. He’s had enough of hurting. So, for the last time, Yifan stood by his best friend and watched as Junmyeon promised that he would love Joohyun in sickness and health, until death do them part.

When they kissed, they painted the most beautiful picture. They always seem to paint the most perfect picture.

 

Yifan tried to hide the shaking of his fingers.

It was November and the glass windows were fogged over but inside the reception hall, it was warm.

“This is supposed to be our secret,” Yifan started, his voice was steady. Junmyeon glanced at him and let out a short chuckle. “But I think Joohyun deserves to know.”

The guests laughed.

“During our last year of high school –it was three months before graduation honestly – Junmyeon punched an underclassman for me. At that time, all the teachers loved him. He was model student extraordinaire but he threw that all away after seeing his lanky best friend in trouble.”

Yifan smiled, “Kim, I never really thanked you about that incident back then; so don’t expect that I’m saying it now.”

Junmyeon was laughing amongst the guests and Joohyun was smiling. They looked perfect, Yifan was happy.

“Anyway, I just want you – “ he turned to Joohyun,  “to know that Junmyeon will always be there. I guarantee it. He’s a man of few words and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t got one romantic bone in his body but I assure you that Junmyeon will always be there, to support you, to protect you…to love you. So, love him in return, love each other, because the both of you deserve it more than anyone else.”

Love him, and please remember that when you hold his hand, when you kiss him and when you wake up beside him every morning, someone would die just to be in your place. Love him, cherish him, because that’s what he deserves.

Love him, because I can’t; not in that way. Love him, for me.

 

Yifan cut contact with his best friend right after the wedding. It was selfish and cruel but he was dying and maybe he needed to be away, to lose contact, to chip even just a portion of Junmyeon away from his heart before it killed him.

So, he did.

__

 

6 years later.

Seoul, 2018

Winter

 

Yifan groans when a body throws itself on top of him. The body squirms about and kicks the covers away from Yifan’s legs screeching, “papa, papa wake up!” in that whiny voice that cuts right through Yifan’s half asleep brain.

“Wu Boxian, five more minutes.” Yifan complains, tackling his son in his embrace. “Let papa sleep, I’m tired.”

Boxian, or Baekhyun translated to the child’s mother tongue, successfully slobbers Yifan’s face with kisses that could rival Mongryeong’s, their pet corgi.

“No, wake up papa! School! friends!”

Yifan sighs and hauls his long body away from the bed. Baekhyun’s already jumped from the mattress, his little five-year-old body shaking in barely suppressed mirth. God, Yifan thinks, it’s six-thirty in the morning!

“Alright, papa is up.” It’s spoken in Korean so Baekhyun tries his very hardest to process the language. “Where is your brother?” Yifan reverts to English.

“Chan-ie is still sleeping! You need to wake him up, he won’t wake up!”

Yifan smiles as he follows his eldest outside the bedroom. His sons’ room is right across the master’s bedroom and when he opens the door to the still cluttered quarters, his sees his youngest spread eagled on the bed, his canary yellow blanket tangled around his legs.

“Let your brother sleep. He’ll wake up soon.”

“Okay.”

 

Yifan moved to the States in 2013, met and married his now ex-husband.

The change of environment was impulsive. Yifan forced himself to move on, and he followed his own advice with near surgical precision. He dated once, fooled himself that he was madly in love – when in retrospect, he was probably just mad – and got married.  

They adopted Baekhyun and Chanyeol the following year. The boys were spaced a few months apart – Wu Baekhyun was born May of 2013; Wu Chanyeol, November. Baekhyun had been a year old when they adopted him, while Chanyeol was an eight-month-old baby.

Yifan didn’t want to be alone. He’d been lucky when he met his ex-husband, a truly kind man who realized all too soon that Yifan will never love him. They have had good memories even with so much emotional baggage in between.

Fast forward six years, a benign divorce and another big move then you have the current Wus. Yifan’s very much a successful graphic artist and renders his services to a lot of movie production houses. He does casual graphic design for big companies and private clients when he’s not up to anything better. He’s not that rich but he makes enough for his family to live comfortable lives.

“Papa, will I get to see uncle Yixing today?” Baekhyun tries his hardest to speak in his mother tongue, Yifan finds it adorable. The man flips the pancakes and nods, “Uh-huh. Maybe you will.”

Yifan never really lost contact with Zhang Yixing. Yifan admitted that he denied having a romantic relationship with Yixing back in high school but they were behind all those now. Yixing’s comfortably settled in South Korea nursing his single life in full contentment, he’s also a music producer and his work ethic wasn’t cut out for relationships not to mention, family.

When Yifan decided to move back to Seoul to let his boys experience their homeland, Yixing had been there.

It’s been three months into a new country, and approximately three days into their new apartment. Yifan still has boxes to unpack.

“Papa will the school be nice? They won’t bully Chanyeol-ie right?”

Yifan puts the plate of pancakes in front of Baekhyun and pretends to think. “Of course, they won’t. You’ll protect your brother for me and if someone makes Yeol cry you’ll tell the teacher. Do you understand Baek?”

Baekhyun vigorously nods his head. “Of course!”

Suddenly, Chanyeol’s soft footsteps precede his appearance in the kitchen. Yifan smiles at his son, who’s rubbing his eyes in that adorable child-like way.

“Good morning Yeol-ah. Had good dreams?”

Chanyeol nods and returns the greeting, his voice comes out tiny.

Chanyeol’s a very sensitive kid, he cries and scares easily. So unlike his older brother who’s boisterous and more than confident for his age. They are polar opposites but Yifan doesn’t love them any lesser.

Yifan’s youngest trudges towards him and latches his short arms around Yifan’s waist – his own way of asking to be carried – and Yifan always indulges.

“Do you want milk?”

Chanyeol nods.

“Are you excited for school today?”

Chanyeol shakes his head and hides his face on Yifan’s neck. He’s muttering a long string of no, no, no. It’s breaking Yifan’s heart.

“But if you’re not going to go to school then Hyun-ie would be sad. Do you want your hyung to be sad?”

“No.”

“Then will you come with Hyun-ie to school?”

“Okay, papa. I will.”

“Such a good boy. Go eat your pancakes.” Yifan puts Chanyeol down with an indulgent pat to his head.  “I’ll drive you both today and maybe later we’ll go see something at the cinemas, do you guys like that? Then we’d go have cake with uncle Yixing.”

Baekhyun whoops a loud “Yay!” almost hitting his glass of milk. Chanyeol smiles.

A day in the life.

//

Not even five hours later, a call comes in and derails Yifan from his current task of re arranging the house. He picks up his phone and answers without glancing at the caller ID and when he hears Chanyeol’s short hiccupping voice, he promptly forgets what he was doing.

“Chanyeol-ah what happened?”

“Papa, Hyun-ie – “ Chanyeol is sobbing now.

“Just stay where you are, papa will come right away. Can you give the phone to your teacher?”

Yifan grabs his wallet and car keys as he waits for Chanyeol to obey him.

“Hello, this is teacher Lee –“

“I’m Yifan, Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s father. What happened to my kids? My youngest had called me and he was crying.”

“I’m really sorry about this Yifan-ssi. It’s been a misunderstanding among the kids. They’re fine.”

Yifan sighs, “I’m picking up my kids. I’m sorry too.”

 

 

“We’re really sorry ahjussi.”

Yifan had been expecting the worse. Thankfully, neither Chanyeol nor Baekhyun is harmed.

The two kids before him look oddly familiar. One has unruly hair, the other has the softest looking amber eyes. Currently, the kids bow their heads as if they’ve been severely reprimanded when in reality, Yifan hasn’t even said anything just yet. Baekhyun is still splotchy from crying and Chanyeol’s cowering behind Yifan’s long legs.

“We’re really sorry.” The amber eyed child reiterates. Baekhyun merely pouts and gives them the silent treatment. The action causes the two apologizing kids to blubber and in the next minute, Yifan has four children clamoring and crying around him. He sighs, this is going to be a long, long day.

Yifan bends down and puts his large palms on top of amber eyes’ shoulder and says very evenly, “Will you tell me what happened?”

The child looks at him not more than three seconds and a fresh wave of tears pour forth from his eyes. Yifan inwardly cringes; his resting bitch face really needs to go.

“Okay, okay.” Yifan shushes as he pulls the small child into what he hopes is a friendly embrace. “Let’s not cry anymore, alright. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

With a decent amount of patting and consoling, amber eyes finally hushes enough and in the process his brother (who, later, Yifan learns is also his twin) quietly calms down. Yifan stands up and ushers his own pair of boys from behind him, and in an even voice, addresses the situation at hand. “Look, the four of you need to promise me that you won’t fight anymore. Baekhyun, they’ve already said sorry, what should you say?”

Baekhyun is still pouting but Yifan knows his eldest caves very easily when, “Wu Boxian.”

Baekhyun sighs, “Baekhyun is sorry too, please don’t scare Chanyeol-ie anymore.”

After the ordeal, the quartet is nodding and trying to amicably shake each other’s hand in their own childlike way. Chanyeol remains a stranger however, and is refusing to talk, opting instead to hide his face behind his father’s long legs.

 

“I’m really sorry about that incident Mr. Wu.” The teacher later says after Yifan learns the cause of the whole debacle – practically, amber eyes, Kim Sehun, tossed a plastic spider at Baekhyun as a prank which caused a whole lot of tears – Baekhyun loathes bugs – on Baekhyun’s part. When Baekhyun cries, there’s a hundred percent chance that Chanyeol’s going to follow suit.

The prank, albeit harmless, wasn’t nice and as a concerned parent, he sits down all four of the children on one of the benches strategically dotting the school yard.

“Now, you have to promise me that you will be good kids.” Yifan lectures while he wipes Baekhyun’s mouth. He bought the kids a whole strawberries and cream cake which they now share in celebration of their still unstable friendship.

“Sehun-ie promises to be good!”

Yifan smiles, he likes this boy. Beside Sehun, Jongin shyly shows a row of perfect white teeth as he giggles at his twin’s antics. “Nini will be good too!”

“Very good, your mom will be very proud of you.”

It’s not a minute change of expression for in a fraction of a second, Both Sehun and Jongin’s jubilant expression falls. Yifan assesses his statement and wonders what was wrong with what he said when Jongin beats him to it.

“But we don’t have eomma anymore. She’s gone.” Jongin says this in such a tiny voice, in a tone that sounded unsure. It makes Yifan want to hug the child.

Chanyeol suddenly gets interested in the conversation and quips, ever so innocently, in his broken Korean.  “But where did your eomma go?”

“Eomma will never come back Chanyeol-ie because she’s dead. But it’s okay. Appa tells us, she is always looking down at us from up there.” Sehun points to the sky and smiles, sadly. “Appa says that eomma loves us very much.”

“Your appa is correct.” Yifan smiles, already patting Jongin’s head in almost fondness. “Your mother does love you very much.”

“Papa always tells the truth.” Baekhyun helpfully seconds the statement. Yifan smiles and the children around him laugh, even Chanyeol seemed to want to get closer.

“How about you Baek hyung, where is your eomma?”

“I don’t have an eomma!” Baekhyun cheerfully says, “I have papa and daddy. But we really don’t see daddy often. It’s just me, Chan-ie and papa.”

Yifan watches as Jongin and Sehun reel in the truth. He wonders if their parents taught them to be open minded, that there were different families, and it was okay to belong in a ‘different’ family.

 Jongin nods, even though he looks confused, and Sehun comes barreling with words Yifan was already anticipating.

“But that’s weird.” Sehun says. Yifan appreciates that it comes out of the child’s lips without malice. Chanyeol is about to say something and Yifan knew his youngest; Chanyeol may be shy but he’s also fiercely protective of his family, of the fact that he has daddy and papa, not daddy and mommy.

“It’s not weird Sehun-ah, just different. But it’s how we are, some families are like yours, you’ve had eomma and appa, Baek and Yeol has papa and daddy, some will have mommy and eomma. But it’s all the same Sehun-ah, your parents will always love you no matter who they are and in which form they come.”

Sehun looks like he is going over the prospects of Yifan’s statement when a car horn derails him from his line of thought. Jongin stands up from the bench and waves, “Appa is here!”

A man exits from a black SUV and something about his gait unsettles Yifan. The man is wearing a pair of black work slacks and a navy-blue dress shirt; the first two buttons are undone, Yifan notices, before he trails his gaze to the man’s face. Yifan should have known because when he looks up and sees the face of the only person he’s ever truly loved, it seemed like the last six years hadn’t happened at all. Yifan stares at Junmyeon and all those memories he tried so hard to bury, the good part of a decade where he tried to forget how much he loved Junmyeon evaporated into thin air. His heart is clawing its way out of his ribcage.

 He can’t move.

Junmyeon doesn’t notice him, quite preoccupied with Jongin and Sehun.

So that’s why the kids are so familiar; they are Junmyeon and Joohyun’s children.

“Wu Yifan?”

Junmyeon wears glasses now, frameless. His hair is black and cropped shorter. He looks so different; yet somehow, still the same. He’s still the same Kim Junmyeon and he still makes Yifan’s heart pound. Six years later and Yifan is still so fucking in love with him. And that’s just grand; Yifan went through all possible routes of purging every fond feeling he held for Junmyeon in his heart and it did not even take a minute for all those feelings to come surging up the surface, choking him.

“Wu Yifan.” Junmyeon reiterates and this time, a smile lights up his whole face. Yifan couldn’t help himself when he stands up and brings Junmyeon into an embrace. Yifan begs himself to not feel anything but Junmyeon could probably hear the racing of his heart. His best friend returns the embrace, strong and warm. He’s laughing when they part.

“What the fuck Wu?” Junmyeon enunciates in perfect Mandarin, his hands are still wrapped around Yifan’s bicep. “Six long years. You could have done better than send a fucking card. If the kids weren’t here, I’m going to fucking punch you.”

“I missed you.” Yifan’s tone is too fond. He doesn’t notice. “It’s good to see you again, Myeon.”

“Appa, you and ahjussi know each other?”

Junmyeon looks at Sehun and nods. He gently pats Sehun’s head. “This is your uncle, Yifan. He’s my best friend.”

“But papa’s best friend is uncle Yixing.” Is Baekhyun’s retort from behind Yifan’s legs. Junmyeon immediately notices the child and smiles. “And who is this?”

“Well, this one here is Wu Baekhyun.” Yifan ushers his eldest and pulls a cowering Chanyeol from behind him. “And this is, Wu Chanyeol. You’re not supposed to be hiding from your uncle.”

Junmyeon pats his boys head and the expression makes Yifan’s chest constrict. “Wow, you have children and you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you have twins either.”

Junmyeon chuckles, “We should catch up, Wu. It’s been a long time. I missed you too.”

//

It takes two hours to fall completely in love with Kim Junmyeon, again. Yifan had been defenseless.

He sat there and recalled the last six years to the person he intended to forget in those six years.

Fate works in ironic ways. It’s too much for Yifan to process.

They don’t even talk about their relationships just yet and Yifan realizes yet again, that he’s still unable to tell Junmyeon the truth. Junmyeon must have assumed that the kids were born from a previous marriage as Yifan mentioned that he is divorced. Yifan doesn’t ask Junmyeon about Joohyun too, he’s not ready to re-open his and Junmyeon’s wounds.

But it’s truly unfortunate that such beautiful, kind hearted woman had been gone too soon.

Instead they talk about life, about where they are now. Yifan learns that Junmyeon is a prosecutor. Typical of him. Junmyeon always wanted to be involved in the law, even then, his sense of justice had been strong.

“I do graphics.” Yifan says. “I still draw, sometimes, but it’s more about corporate logos and CG rendering than actual art. I’m too old to stick to tradition.” This makes Junmyeon laugh.

“Man, has it been that long? Why does it feel like you’ve disappeared on me just yesterday? I feel old.”

“We are old.”

“With children to boot.”

“You have wonderful kids.” Yifan comments, eyes landing on the twin’s sleeping figure. “Sehun reminds me of you a lot.”

“He’s a menace.” Junmyeon answers, chuckling. “I wonder how a four-year-old can have so much energy.”

Junmyeon talks about his twins so fondly and Yifan is happy because Junmyeon’s life seemed generally blissful in the past six years Yifan had refused to see him. Yifan wonders if there’s more to this façade.

Eventually, the brief meeting ends. Yifan’s boys are both asleep, so as Junmyeon’s twins. Funnily enough, Yifan also ends up buying his apartment in the same apartment tower Junmyeon lives in.

They glance at each other in the building’s lobby. Yifan’s cradling Chanyeol in his arms while Baekhyun sleepily trudges behind him. On the other hand, Junmyeon has both his twins knocked out on his arms.

Fatherhood suits him, a lot.

“606.” Yifan says.

“522.” Junmyeon chuckles, “Looks like we’re bound to see each other more often, Wu.”

Yifan smiles, “Good night, Myeon. It’s really good to see you again.”

 

Yifan doesn’t sleep that night. He keeps staring at the glow in the dark, plastic stars he’d stuck on the ceiling of Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s bedroom and the day keeps repeating itself in his mind.

Six long years, a failed marriage, two children and it all boils down to meeting the same man who’d instigated those changes in his life. Yifan wonders if he’s still the person who is so in love with his best friend to the point that it hurt, he wonders if going through all that pain again will be worth it.

Yifan’s too old for heartbreaks brought on by unrequited affections and he’d already built his life knowing that he’s done pining over someone. And this time, he is aware that he can’t simply uproot his life, run away and start all over again.

He closes his eyes, Chanyeol is shifting in his sleep and Yifan gather’s the boy in his embrace, placating him with soothing whispers. As Yifan closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s strong enough to be around Junmyeon again, if he’s steeled his heart enough to accept the fact that he’s just and will always be Junmyeon’s best friend.

//

The next morning happens to be a Saturday. Yifan wakes up to Baekhyun’s cheerful laughter from the sitting room. The digital wall clock says it’s already past ten in the morning. His head, aches.

The graphic designer trudges outside the bedroom and he sees Chanyeol and Baekhyun splayed all over Yixing’s laps. The television is playing reruns of old cartoons.

“Good morning.” Yixing greets amicably. His fingers are raking through Baekhyun’s cowlicks.

“I can’t believe I overslept.” Yifan’s voice is scratchy as he chuckles, “The last time I did, my husband divorced me.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay to oversleep this time since no husband is going to divorce you now.”

“Gee, thanks for the reminder Yixing.”

“You’re welcome. There’s coffee in the pantry. Don’t worry about the boys, they’re fed and good.”

“I bet you let Baekhyun pour excess chocolate syrup all over his pancakes.”

“Nope. Baek and Chanyeol ate rice and kimchi stew for breakfast today. And oh, there’s a batch of really good-looking rice cakes on the table. They’re delicious.”

Yifan spots said rice cakes and plucks a piece. “From whom?”

“They’re from uncle Junmyeon, papa!” Chanyeol replies, momentarily distracted.

“Junmyeon?” Yixing switches to their mother tongue as he stands up. “As in the Kim Junmyeon?”

“Don’t start, Yixing, please. And yes, that Kim Junmyeon.”

Yixing knows all about Junmyeon and Yifan’s history. All it took was one night, a few bottles of vodka, and Yifan had managed to spill all the morbid details about his relationship (or lack thereof) with Kim Junmyeon to Zhang Yixing.

“So, they live downstairs?”

Yifan nods, “He has twin boys. Lovely kids.”

Yixing cocks an eyebrow at him, “And what about you?”

Yifan shakes his head and answers, “Splendid.”

What’s Yifan supposed to say anyway? Does he even have the right to tell Yixing that he isn’t okay, that everything is actually not okay just for the sole reason that he hasn’t gotten over Kim Junmyeon. When he mulls it over, it all sounded pathetic even to him. 

“Are you really?”

“I’m fine, Xing, really. Thank you for the concern.”

Yixing looks thoroughly unconvinced but thankfully, he lets the issue die down.

“You know what, where our manners. We should go downstairs and invite them over for lunch. What do you think, Baekhyun?”

“Sure! Chanyeol-ie says he wants to see Jongin-ie.”

//

Turns out, Junmyeon worked Saturdays and half of Sunday too. The kids were left alone with a nanny they called Auntie Kim. Yifan forces himself to ask if Junmyeon has always been this workaholic, the nanny doesn’t answer him but her sad smile as the twins gather behind her legs, seemed a definite reply.

At dinner, Junmyeon heeds his invitation. The kids are awkward with each other again, but surprisingly, Chanyeol’s quite ecstatic to see Jongin.

“Come in.” Yifan tells his best friend. It’s awkward, as he surmised, that is why a bottle of decently expensive wine (or whiskey if Junmyeon’s up to it) is stashed somewhere in the kitchen. Junmyeon’s is dressed exactly as the first time Yifan had seen him, but this time his shirt is black and it sits nicely on his frame.

“Nice place.” Junmyeon comments, eyes roaming the living room where Yifan had tried his very hardest to conceal some of the mess he has yet to take care of. Chanyeol and Baekhyun had been playing before the guests arrived, so their toys are strewn about in the periphery. He hopes there are no Lego pieces scattered about on the carpeted floor.

“As far as I’m concerned, this place looks the same as yours.”

Junmyeon chuckles, “Point taken. You surprise me, Wu. after all these years, you finally learn how to cook.”

Yifan doesn’t want to tell him that the only reason he took classes in the kitchen is because the ex-husband can’t cook to save his (and by extension Yifan and the kids’) life.

“I don’t want to disappoint, but I’m not master chef extraordinaire so don’t get your hopes up. But I did buy some really nice-looking cake, I hope you still like strawberries and cream.”

“I’ve been in love with strawberries and cream for thirty-one years, I’ll stay in love for the next thirty-one.”

“Good.”

 Dinner goes surprisingly comfortable. Of course, after alcohol which loosened their tongue and made them lose the slightest inhibitions. Being suspended in that 2-hour period, Yifan saw Kim Junmyeon again, the best friend and not the man he is now.

“Where is your wife?”

Yifan’s drunk, might as well get it over with. Junmyeon will have to shed the pretense anyway. They’re drunk, or well maybe, Yifan’s drunk, since the question seemed to sober Junmyeon up. Yifan’s eyes stray to their boys who’s now boisterously playing with each other in the living room.

“She’s dead.” Junmyeon says it so crudely; without meeting Yifan’s eyes. “Pregnancy complications.”

“I’m sorry.”

It’s a pity that the only thing he could say is that he’s sorry. Yifan owed a lot to Bae Joohyun, because back then, no matter how much he loved Junmyeon, he never really managed to make Junmyeon happy like she did.

Junmyeon remains quiet, staring at the remnants of the wine in his glass. “It’s been a long time.” He stands up, replacing the glass on the table. “Thank you for dinner, Wu. It’s really nice to see you again.”

“Are you okay?”

Junmyeon should know he’d ask. Yifan’s has always been like that.

“I try to be.”

In that split second, Junmyeon allowed agony to seep into his expression and he looked vulnerable. Yifan blinks and it’s gone.

Later that night, Yifan is sleepless again. He wonders if Junmyeon ever healed from losing Bae Joohyun.

What a sorry excuse for a best friend, he tells himself, absent in times when he could have needed me.  

When Yifan falls asleep, he dreams of the day of Junmyeon’s wedding and in the dream, he tells Junmyeon he loves him. Junmyeon doesn’t reply.

//

A week into Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s new school, the boys seemed to have forgotten the altercation they had that eventually led to their now seemingly unbreakable friendship.

Also, Yifan learns something new about Junmyeon through his children again.

“Your appa is still not here?”

Jongin nods, his legs swaying from the bench he’d perched upon. “Appa’s always late. But it’s okay, teacher Lee lets Sehun-ie and Jongin-ie stay and play until appa arrives.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay Yifan ahjussi. Jongin-ie and I don’t want to bother appa, he’s always busy. Sometimes, its uncle Jongdae who comes and drives us home.”

“And where is your uncle Jongdae right now?”

“He’s in Shanghai.” Jongin answers, “To take pictures of birds.”

“Interesting.” Yifan chuckles as he sits beside the twins. “Say, I was planning to take Baekhyun and Chanyeol to the movies today. Do you guys want to go?”

The twins’ identical expression is priceless. It makes Yifan smile as well.

“Can we?”

“Sure, let me call your dad.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

His friend sounded exhausted from the other end of the line. “It’s been a really long day here. I was going to ask auntie Kim to fetch the boys.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take them home safely, but before that I was hoping we could detour to the cinema. I promised my boys I’d take them out for movies, might as well let Sehun and Jongin tag along. If that’s okay with you.”

“If it’s not much of a bother. Thanks, Wu.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

As Junmyeon drops the call, Yifan whispers take care of yourself. It goes unheard. With a sigh, he turns to the four children around him and asks, “So which movie shall we be watching?”

 

//

The movie ends at around eight in the evening. After that, Yifan takes the kids for a late dinner of traditional Korean food. He also gets takeaway to heat up for Junmyeon. He doesn’t think about the implications of his actions not until Junmyeon steps into his own house at ten-thirty looking very much harried. He reeked of nicotine and exhaustion.

“I got you dinner. Figured you’re going to be home so late, the twins are asleep.”

Junmyeon breathes and deposits himself on the living room couch. “This case is going to be the death of me.”

“It goes with the job. Don’t get this wrong but you look like death, Myeon. You should ask the government to pay you a hefty amount for occupational hazards.”

Junmyeon laughs. “Thank you though, for taking the twins out. I’m becoming such a crappy father.”

“They understand. They told me so. It seems like you’re working too hard for them.”

“I wish that’s the only reason why I’m working too hard. I really wish.”

“You need to treat yourself right.” Yifan says as he gets ready to leave the apartment. “I’ll see you soon.”

Junmyeon stands up and walks him to the door. “Thank you, really.”

“It’s fine. Good night Junmyeon.”

“Good night.”

Yifan stands in the hallway for about a minute and smiles wryly to himself.

“I think I know why you work too hard.”

//

The pattern repeats itself for a whole week until Yifan doesn’t even bother to ask Junmyeon if he could bring the latter’s kids home. Jongin and Sehun have become thoroughly attached to him in a matter of days.

To put things into perspective, Yifan has properly slipped into Junmyeon’s life like he never left. He has deduced that he’s acting like the missing housewife in Junmyeon’s household but he honestly doesn’t care. He fetches the twins from preschool along with his own boys, Yifan usually prepares dinner for the five of them. The baby sitter arrives at eight, on nights where Junmyeon gets buried under the responsibilities of being the district prosecutor.

Miraculously, Junmyeon comes home on time, an odd Wednesday about two weeks later. Yifan’s in Junmyeon’s apartment, whipping up dinner as the children regale him with long tales from preschool. He doesn’t notice the man at first; busy answering Jongin’s questions about stars and planets.

“Your uncle’s going to have to think about the answer to that question, Jongin.”

Yifan looks up and he finally sees Junmyeon leaning against the entrance to the kitchen. The prosecutor is smiling gently at the scene before him.

Jongin runs to his father with a broad smile on his lips. Junmyeon easily hefts him up and plants a loud kiss on his cheek. His smile is beautiful, Yifan notes.

“I hope my boys haven’t traumatized you with their endless questions yet. It drives me crazy sometimes.” Junmyeon says as he puts down Jongin, loosens his tie and removes it from around his neck in one swift move. Yifan watches the action with acute fascination.

“You’re early today.” He says rather unempathetically, “I was trying to cook dinner for the boys. I hope you don’t mind.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “I really appreciate you doing this for me, Wu. I told you, I’m a terrible father.”

“You’re not. Just don’t let work steal you away from your family.”

Junmyeon stares at the children playing in the sitting room and sighs. “Sometimes, I really feel like I’m not the best for them. They’re my kids but it’s like I’m so…detached. I don’t know anything about them, I don’t know their favorite colors, their favorite cartoons. I don’t know if they like being read bed time stories before sleeping. It’s an awful feeling – to watch your children grow up without you – it’s really awful.”

“Then you have to help yourself. They’re four years old Myeon, they’re not going to be this young forever. Maybe you just need to sacrifice some things and be with them when they’re still children, when they still find no fault in you. They love you Myeon, they always tell me that you’re a great dad so don’t overthink and just be there.”

Junmyeon chuckles. He looks at Yifan with a small smile and says, “You know, you’ve become really good at this fatherhood thing. Between the two of us, I thought I was going to be better at it.”

“I just had some practice.” Yifan replies with a short laugh. “Let’s eat dinner.”

 

After the boisterous, heartwarming dinner, Yifan, Junmyeon and the kids settle into the sitting room. The boys whined and begged enough for movie night and the adults are sore losers for their children to even think about saying no.

So here they are – armed with popcorn and select junk food –  parked in front of the big LED television in the sitting room. The twins have an elaborate collection of animated films from Japanese classics to Disney favorites so it becomes a mess trying to figure out what movie to watch. After a minute of bickering, they finally settle on some Dinosaur film that Yifan doesn’t bother to notice because his head is suddenly aching.

Maybe it’s the emotional stress of being this close to Junmyeon and still withholding so much from him. As the movie plays, Yifan wonders if he would have the courage to tell Junmyeon the whole truth. Not just the fact that he loved him, but also about who he really is. He wonders if Junmyeon will eventually be alienated by the truth, and for that, Yifan hates himself. Even then, he never gave Junmyeon the benefit of doubt. Six years later and he’s still the same.

Yifan’s line of thought is disturbed when Junmyeon falls asleep halfway through the movie. His head falls upon Yifan’s shoulder, his glasses sitting askew on his face. Yifan inhales, his racing heartbeat eventually quiets down and he takes his time surveying Junmyeon’s face. Unlike all the other times, Yifan manages to calm his emotions this time. He continues to look at Junmyeon’s face and he thanks the heavens for granting him this quiet moment. Junmyeon’s expression is finally relaxed in sleep and Yifan silently wishes to let Junmyeon have good dreams.

He looked like he really needed the rest.

The thing about hopeless, unrequited love, is that one stops hoping for reciprocity as the years go by.

Yifan’s been in that situation long before he even realized that he was indeed in love with his best friend. He never kindled thoughts about his growing affections for Junmyeon since it was pointless and in the beginning, scary. He was fifteen, and he repressed those feelings even if he woke up next to Junmyeon after sleeping over and he thought he’d like to wake up to his friend’s face for as long as he lived.

He has long stopped hoping that Junmyeon would return his feelings because that’s not happening; not in his case. It hurt and there’s no way of subduing that hurt en route to acceptance. But he powered through it, persevered and hoped to come out without severe repercussions. Yifan’s lucky that he managed and now he contents himself with wishing Junmyeon good dreams. Because in the end, he can never really move on from loving Junmyeon, but he can move on from the pain of loving Junmyeon in silence. And that’s beautiful. It’s beautiful to be in love with someone without hurting. It’s beautiful to be in love with someone and wish them love, wish them happiness.

After all, Junmyeon’s happiness has always been Yifan’s happiness too.

//

“You might as well go live with Kim Junmyeon at this rate.”

Yifan rolls his eyes as he finishes packing the boys’ lunch for a whole week. He stacks endless plastic containers in the refrigerator and shuts it closed.

“Look, I’m just trying to be decent friend, okay. Plus, I signed another contract with a big company and I’m going to be swamped with work next week, there’s no harm in preparing the boys’ lunches beforehand.”

“Yeah, I didn’t say anything bad about that. But I’ve seen you label half of those containers with ‘nini’ and ‘sehunie’ and really, Fan, what are you planning?”

Yifan is guilty with that. He really did prepare homemade lunches for his kids and Junmyeon’s twins. It was almost unconscious, he even got extra toothbrushes for the twins and an extra jar of cookies sits on the pantry for them.

“I just thought it would be a nice gesture. Junmyeon’s really busy.”

Yixing cocks an eyebrow at him, “And he’s got a nanny to take care of his children. Or did the nanny quit her job and you’ve made yourself a temporary stand-in.”

Yifan turns to the other man and frowns, “And what’s the problem with that?”

“I just – never mind. Forget what I said.”

“No,” Yifan grabs him by the bicep, “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing Yifan, we’re in the same situation after all. I should know how you feel about all this. Just, forget what I said. I’m sorry.”

Yifan loosens his hold and Yixing silently exits the kitchen. Maybe he’s reading too much into the other man’s words but the haunting feeling of Yixing’s words sounded so much like an indirect admission. He wonders if Yixing got over their high school fling, and if he made it worse by barging into Yixing’s life when the latter was well over those years.

He feels bad all of a sudden.

//

“I took your word for it.” Junmyeon says rather excitedly as they sit for dinner at a chicken restaurant in the city. The four boys are wearing long sleeved shirts with identical scarlet scarves, courtesy of Yifan, and they all look very adorable.

Chanyeol turns five on the twenty-seventh of November. Yifan’s youngest is officially a hyung to both Sehun and Jongin and Chanyeol seems to like the prospects of being a hyung. He’s grown a fondness for Jongin in the recent months. They all act like they’re real brothers, looking out for each other and generally getting themselves into all sorts of trouble together. The boys are definitely a handful, not that Yifan’s complaining.

“Took a break from work after the recent case and thought about taking the twins out to a hot spring in Japan. I want to extend the invitation to you and the boys, what do you say?”

Yifan grins, turning towards the boys who are busy munching on fried chicken to even worry about what the adults are discussing. “Guys, do you want to go to a hot spring?”

Sehun looks up and stares at his father, “Appa, what’s a hot spring?”

Junmyeon pats his son’s head and smiles warmly, “You’ll know when we get there. You’ll love it.”

“Can we swim there?”

Yifan smiles at Baekhyun and nods. “I’m positive you can do that too. So, do you guys wanna go?”

The boys’ ecstatic cheers are a definite answer.

//

Yifan has a lot of memories associated with Japan.

The country is insurmountably beautiful and the people are some of the nicest human beings in the planet. He’d been in the country a couple of years back, for his honeymoon. He smiles wryly to himself, everything about that honeymoon had been perfect, save for the fact that he’d selfishly wanted to be with someone else rather than his then husband.

Kinosaki is a pretty town, its picturesque streets look like they’re always ready for a magazine shoot. It’s near freezing in early December, but thankfully the streets haven’t been snowed in.

They check-in at a traditional Japanese inn – a ryokan says Yifan’s guide – surrounding the nearest hot spring resort. Their temporary room is cozy, with tatami matted floors and warm lighting. The windows all open into a magnificent view of the surrounding mountains.

The boys are all decked in colorful padded yukatas. Junmyeon had insisted they wear it since it was the most touristy thing to do. The kids do look adorable in colorful Japanese garb.

Baekhyun can’t stop laughing as Yifan wraps him in his clothes, all the while whining and complaining about his yukata being maroon when he wanted the light pink Chanyeol is wearing. After tummy tickles, grumbles and more whining, they’re finally all decked and ready to explore.

Tourists mill about, all wrapped in varying colors. Scents of food and winter permeate the street. The only difference of this town from the rest is that people look happier, conversations more poignant and indented with laughter.

And walking beside Yifan is Junmyeon, who is wrapped in a royal blue garb. He looks like he’d recently stepped out of Yifan’s dreams.

“Let’s take a picture.” Junmyeon says, already handing out his DSLR to a westerner who gladly obliged to take their photo. They stand closely together with their respective pair of boys smiling broadly at the camera.

“Another one.” Yifan says, casually slinging his arm on top of Junmyeon’s shoulder. Junmyeon easily presses into his side and raises two fingers into a peace sign.

Their photographer is smiling when she hands Junmyeon back his camera. The man thanks her profusely before checking out the photo himself.

“You have a beautiful family.” She tells Yifan before turning away.

Yifan’s traitorous heart skips a beat.

“What did she say?”

Yifan smiles, “She said we look handsome.”

Junmyeon cocks a brow at that and he ends up cackling.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just suddenly remembered us from fifteen years back. She wouldn’t think we’re handsome if we hadn’t improved from those years.”

Yifan chuckles, “I agree.”

The six of them resume walking after the little photo-op. Their boys are fascinated by every little thing, pointing at everything they see that seemed out of the ordinary.

The excursion is enjoyable but Yifan should have known better to trust that nothing would happen concerning his boys. A trip wouldn’t be complete if either Chanyeol, Baekhyun or both manage to get into trouble.

Yifan merely turns around to buy a bunch of curious looking fish shaped pastries when Junmyeon hurriedly pulls him away from the people crowding the stall.

“Jongin and Chanyeol.” The prosecutor enunciates, flitting his gaze here and there. “Are they with you?”

Yifan’s shakes his head. “No, I thought they were –“

“Oh shit.”

Dread fills Yifan that he’s suddenly frozen to his very core. “Junmyeon where are they?” His voice cracks from the sudden panic.

The other man pushes a confused looking Sehun and Baekhyun to his arms and Yifan hefts both boys into his arms.

“Don’t panic Wu.” Junmyeon says, voice ever steady. “We’ll find them. Let’s go.”

 

After thirty minutes, which felt like a whole fucking eternity to Yifan, they finally stumble upon helplessly oblivious Chanyeol and Jongin. Both kids being very engrossed with catching a gold fish with a handheld net.

Yifan feels like he’s popped a vein in his head.

“Wu Chanyeol, Kim Jongin.”

Jongin immediately whips his head back, cheerfully shouting, “Appa, Yifan ahjussi!”

The boy’s smile is enough indication of just how clueless he is of Junmyeon and Yifan’s current state of distress.  Yifan hears Junmyeon sigh. “What are you boys doing?”

Jongin turns back to Chanyeol who’s uncharacteristically ignored both Yifan and Junmyeon in his utter concentration.

“Chanyeol hyung is trying to catch a goldfish for Nini!”

Goldfishes are actually agile swimmers so when Chanyeol lifts his net, he only manages to brush one fish’s tail. The boy looks so utterly heartbroken as he stares at his empty net and thirty seconds later he starts to cry. Junmyeon immediately bends down to Chanyeol’s height to console the boy.

“Don’t cry Yeol. Here let uncle Junmyeon help, are you okay with that?”

Chanyeol tearfully nods, handing the net to Junmyeon. Before dipping the net back into the water, Junmyeon pushes a couple of bills to the old man who must have been the owner of the stall.

Junmyeon lets Chanyeol hold the net while he guides the boy’s wrist.

Yifan stares at the scene and affection bubbles up his throat in the most alarming manner that he forces himself to look away. He’s not going to hope, he shouldn’t hope.

But when Chanyeol finally manages to catch the dreaded goldfish with Junmyeon’s help, the five-year-old gleefully wraps both his arms around Junmyeon’s neck and almost unconsciously shouts, “Thank you appa!”

Junmyeon laughs as he returns the child embrace, never once commenting about Chanyeol’s error.

And Yifan pathetically starts to hope.

//

“This is the life.”

The hot water is scorching in a pleasant kind of way. Yifan sinks down until the water sloshes around his chin. He could sleep in this position even when the warmth surrounding him is questionably calming.

Junmyeon steps into the pool with only a flimsy towel wrapped around his middle. Yifan is thankful for the water for helping conceal the irritating flushing of his face.

He berates himself for acting like a fucking teenager.

“I took the boys to this place for this reason and they didn’t even want to try it out. What a pity.”

Yifan laughs, “They’ll give it a try tomorrow. We should enjoy this short time of peace and quiet until then.”

The warm water continues to slosh around their bodies and the sound calms Yifan’s mind, coaxing him to close his eyes and rest. Somehow the heated stone walls are very comfortable.

“Wu?”

Yifan hums in answer.

“You really got me thinking about the boys. I’ve been second guessing my decisions concerning the twins lately and you helped me put things into perspective. Thank you, really.”

Yifan’s voice is low when he talks, his throat suddenly feels scratchy all of a sudden. “Don’t thank me. Just be confident with your sons, Myeon. You’re intelligent enough to avoid decisions that would make them unhappy in the long run.”

“How did you manage with Chanyeol and Baekhyun? I mean, don’t you ever just wish there’s a wife to help raise the children.”

Yifan inhales and contemplates if he should tell the truth.

“There’s never been a wife, Junmyeon.”

Yifan opens his eyes and directs it at Junmyeon with an otherwise leveled stare. “Chanyeol and Baekhyun are adopted.”

“But you told me you are divorced?”

Yifan nods. “I am. I never had a wife but I do have an ex-husband.”

Junmyeon is silent and Yifan is sure that this reaction is fifteen years’ worth of accumulated shock. He really should have told the truth back then, when they were younger and without so much emotional baggage. He should have told the truth when they lied on that infirmary bed and Junmyeon had asked if there had been something going on with him and Yixing.

“Ex-husband?”

Yifan nods and averts his gaze.

“Let me ask you something, back then when I asked about you and Yixing, what would you have told me?”

Yifan chuckles, “I would have lied all the same, to be honest. It’s terrifying to be in that position and not be sure about yourself. But if you must know, then yes, Yixing and I had a vague fling. More experimental than anything, really.”

“Was he a good man?”

Junmyeon’s line of questioning is something Yifan would never expect. He had been awaiting an outburst not this collected, almost critical way of Junmyeon assessing him.

For the record, Yifan knows Junmyeon is asking about his ex and not Yixing.

“He was, he still is.”

“Then why did you stop?”

Yifan’s fingers are suddenly cold even though the water remains unbelievably warm.

“It’s impossible between us. Believe me, we tried to make it work but I realized that I could never love him like how he loved me, and it would have been selfish of me to chain him in that relationship when I know he deserved better.”

There, at least half of the truth is finally out. Lei didn’t deserve someone like Yifan, not when Yifan only married him because Lei used to remind Yifan of Junmyeon. Yifan hated himself for so long because of that, and when the divorce came through he was finally liberated from harboring something so heavy which constantly weighed him down.

Lei had agreed to the divorce because Yifan wanted to let him go, Lei had agreed even though he still loved Yifan. He wanted to make it work, but Yifan is tired of trying. He married Lei for selfish reasons, and he ended their marriage because of the effects of the same selfish reasons.

And maybe that’s what’s pathetic about Yifan, he constantly dealt with his problems by running away regardless of everyone he would run over. He’s selfish, always has been.

 “I’m glad you finally told me.”

Yifan stared at his best friend. It’s almost funny that they’re having this belated conversation in a heated, organic bathtub. What were the odds?

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I always knew?” Junmyeon admits, closing his eyes and resting his back against the wall of the pool. “I realized that you used to look at Han like how I looked at Joohyun. I thought I was getting ahead of myself but I just…knew.”

“And you’re okay with all this?”

Junmyeon shrugs, “Wu, I told you back then – I don’t give a shit about whom you’re trying to fuck but I just wanted you to tell me. I was – I am – your best friend, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. Yifan watches the silent trail of water cascade down his face and into his collarbones. “Han – he broke you. And even though I wasn’t a big fan of you when you fucking disappeared after my wedding, I guess I also understood why.”

Oh, this irony. Yifan thinks as he listens to his friend. If only Junmyeon knew.

“Did you ever find yourself within the last six years? Have you moved on?”

Those are questions without definitive answers. Did Yifan find himself? Yes, maybe. He figured out what he wanted to do for a living, he adopted his sons and loves them to death. He already has a grasp of who he is, and who he cannot be. Variably, yes, Yifan did find himself.

But has he moved on?

Yifan never moved on and not just because he refuses to, he is simply incapable of doing it.

We all come to certain crossroads in life where we’re unable to make coherent, less destructive decisions. For example, we remain chasing people who’ll never love us and on the other hand, we hurt those who do. And we’re not sure if we should be sorry for all the people we hurt, while we are hurting.

Human beings are such complex creatures to the point of wanting to be trapped in vicious, self-defeating cycles. But maybe that’s the beauty of it.   

“Maybe, I did.” Yifan answers. “I’ll tell you Myeon, it’s never easy to move on; you should know this. I’ve learned to cope, but I think it’s impossible for me to move on.” Not when you’re here and I want to hold you but I can’t, because you’re not mine to hold.

“What makes you think I don’t know how to move on.”

Simple.

Yifan smiles, “Because you were once in love.”

 

Yifan stares at Junmyeon’s back that night. The ambience in the ryokan was supposedly conducive for rest and self-healing but his mind is a jumbled mess. He can’t sleep.

The kids are occupying the space between them, and oddly enough his own boys are closer to Junmyeon’s side, Chanyeol’s even attached himself to Junmyeon, clinging closely to the man. Meanwhile, Sehun and Jongin flank him from both sides. Sehun is hogging Yifan from his twin brother.

Junmyeon turns in his sleep and he’s now facing Yifan who’s still very much awake. He’s so beautiful and Yifan wants to kiss him, wants to tell Junmyeon how much he loved him – loves him still.

He doesn’t. Yifan merely adjusts Sehun’s head until the child is safely cradled in his arms.

He finally falls asleep.

//

“We think appa is sick.”

Yifan squints at the tiny creatures standing on his doorstep. It’s 7 in a Sunday morning and he’s severely exhausted after having slept at 4 AM to beat his deadline. Yifan really doesn’t have enough energy to deal with anything right now.

The graphic artist slaps his cheek and ushers the twins inside. “Who’s sick?”

“Appa!”

Yifan inwardly cringes at the loud chorus of shrill voices pounding right through and exacerbating his headache. Chanyeol then appears in the living room, rubbing at his eyes. It rained and thundered the night before, so Yifan is positive that Chanyeol would wake up like a typical grouchy five-year-old after suffering through that weather.

“Papa?”

“Come here, Chanyeol-ah.”

Chanyeol obediently comes over and latches his arms around Yifan’s waist.

“What happened to your appa?” Yifan reiterates. “Is he still in bed?”

The twins nod synchronously. “He’s not moving and he feels really hot. We already called Auntie Kim but she said she’s not going to arrive until after breakfast.”

Worry surges through Yifan. He grabs his coat and wraps Chanyeol in his.

“Alright, let’s go see your dad.”

 

Junmyeon is burning. His forehead is technically a furnace but he’s shivering.

“Is Junmyeon ahjussi going to be okay, papa?” Chanyeol asks. The boy is standing by Junmyeon’s bedside slowly poking the man’s pale cheek. Chanyeol sounded terribly worried, and although Yifan is worried too, he couldn’t help but smile.

“Junmyeon is going to be okay, Yeol-ah. We just have to call the doctor and see what’s the problem.”

The twins look at him with identical expressions of worry, Jongin looks like he’s about to cry. “Don’t worry boys, your appa is fine. I’ll call the doctor.”

 

Junmyeon’s family physician makes a quick diagnosis. The female doctor sighs after surveying the patient’s condition, her forehead scrunched in concern.

“It’s the flu but he’s overworking himself again, that might have worsened the condition.” The doctor says. She gives a small bottle of pills to Yifan and couple more reminders before leaving.

“Take care of him. And if you could, tell him to stop working himself to death.”

Junmyeon finally comes around an hour later. Yifan hands him his eyeglasses and a glass of water. The doctor had told him to let Junmyeon take his medicine immediately.

“Fuck,” Junmyeon enunciates, clutching at his head and screwing his eyes shut. “Am I dying?”

Yifan chuckles, “Don’t be dramatic and eat your medicine. You’re burning, Junmyeon.”

The prosecutor downs a tablet of paracetamol and a couple of ibuprofen for his aching head.

“And I thought, I’m the first one who’s going to collapse from over exhaustion, but here you are beating me to it.”

“Everything’s just insane after our little Japan getaway.” Junmyeon replies, massaging his temples. “I wonder why everyone’s keen on getting themselves imprisoned come December. There’s an onslaught of cases lately. I don’t even know how to catch up.”

“Catch up if you must, but don’t overdo it. Let’s not kill ourselves now, shall we?”

Junmyeon looks at him and manages a smile. “Thanks Wu.”

Suddenly the door to the master’s bedroom opens. Jongin and Sehun poking from behind it. “Appa?”

Junmyeon beckons them over and asks them to sit on the bed. “I’m sorry boys. Did I worry you both?”

The twins nod; Junmyeon frowns. “Has Auntie Kim arrived? Did you two eat already?”

“I cooked, the boys are well and fed. I also had Baekhyun and Chanyeol skip school today. Jongin and Sehun look like they needed the company.”

Junmyeon smiles fondly at his twins, patting their heads. “Don’t worry about appa, okay. I’ll be fine, now go out and play with Chanyeol and Baekhyun. I don’t want you boys to get sick.”

The twins obey their father and they silently file out the room. Junmyeon leans against the bed’s headboard and sighs. “I’m a terrible father, aren’t I?”

Yifan shakes his head to negate the statement. He silently surveys the master’s bedroom and he realizes the space contains such a feminine touch to it. The bedroom’s curtains are all billowy and white, the floor had beige carpeting, the wallpapers are patterned.

Junmyeon hated curtains, especially lightly colored ones. He hated white floors too, back then it was always a bitch to clean.

Yifan smiles to himself when he sees a small framed picture of Joohyun and Junmyeon on their wedding day. The photograph is emblazoned in a far corner, away from direct sight. Yifan stares at the photograph.

“I miss her.” Junmyeon comments. Yifan averts his gaze to glance at his friend. Junmyeon has a sad smile on his face. “I hate quiet moments because that’s when I miss her the most. You were right Yifan, I really haven’t moved on, I couldn’t move on.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Sometimes I think about it; remarrying. Joohyun would have liked it, she always wanted me to be happy.”

Yifan remains silent but there’s that characteristic pang in his chest. After all these years, it still aches.

“Also, the boys are growing up and they need another fixture in their life and I can’t fill both. I’m still coping and my coping mechanism involves drowning in so much work until it’s all I could think about. At least when I’m so preoccupied, I don’t have to think. I don’t have to wallow in despair and do nothing but abhor the entire goddamned world.”

They both remain suspended in stagnant silence until Junmyeon breaks it with a hollowed laugh, he sounded self-deprecating.

 “You know Wu, I loathed god so much. There are billions of people in this world but why her? Don’t you think that’s fucked up?”

Yifan shakes his head. “Everything happens for a reason.”

Junmyeon scoffs, “I met Joohyun when I was dying, when I was ready to die. She saved me. The gods are cruel for making me go through the same thing twice in a lifetime; fuck all the reasons.”

Yifan sighs, “The world’s unfair Junmyeon. We just can’t have it all. Trust me, I should know.”

“But do you know what it’s like to lose someone who’s more than important to you? It’s like being chopped in half. There’s always something missing, there’s this void that can’t be filled with anything and sometimes, it hurts to the point that I just want everything to end.”

“But you can’t end it.” Yifan says evenly. “Joohyun may not be physically present but she left you with your sons and you should be grateful for that. The world’s fucked up, and for some people it takes without giving back. You’re still fortunate Junmyeon, because in your case, the world took, but it also gave you something in return. I know it hurts and you don’t have to move on but you must continue to exist, to live, to find another purpose.”

Junmyeon stares at him. “Is it that easy for you?”

Yifan inhales. He wonders how this conversation went from amicable to dreaded.

If only Junmyeon knew a quarter of the things he did to ‘move on’, to just forget even a little. Six years is a mere heartbeat and yet he’d caused so much pain to people who loved him.

All to forget.

“No.” Yifan says, smiling sadly. “I never had it easy. And even up to this day, I’m still trying to cope. I’m still trying to find something to fill that void. I guess, we all do.”

Yifan cradles his head in his palms and inhales. His head starts to ache, a pain that simmers from the back of his skull that inches to his temples.

“Yifan,”

Junmyeon rarely calls Yifan by his first name. The last time Junmyeon did, was the day of his mother’s death, when he broke down in front of Yifan and sobbed so hard. Yifan doesn’t remember what Junmyeon had said but he does remember Junmyeon’s broken voice as he stuttered Yifan’s name. That was almost a decade ago.

Yifan meets his friend’s gaze.

“Who is it?”

And Yifan would smile, and tell Junmyeon half-truths once again. Because he’s too good at that, evading.

“Let’s just say, that he’s someone who will always be a character in a love story that will never be mine.”

Maybe he’s projecting, but Junmyeon openly gazed at him and Yifan had an inkling that Junmyeon knew that he’s the void Yifan’s been trying to fill.

“Why do you say so?”

“I know so. Rest, Myeon.”

“Wu?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you stay?”

Yifan’s not sure if what’s happening is cruelty or a blessing. His chest constricts in such a painful way but it’s a welcomed pain. He sits beside Junmyeon on the latter’s bed – the bed he obviously shared with his late wife – and hated himself for feeling good about it.

Yifan simply watches Junmyeon fall asleep and once again, he’s thankful for this quiet moment. He runs his fingers against Junmyeon’s short hair and closes his eyes.

//

Something changes about Junmyeon.

His best friend seemed happier and his happiness is evident in the way he interacted with his twins. Yifan was right; fatherhood suits Junmyeon a lot.

Yifan finally becomes privy to the cause of Junmyeon’s happiness – Park Sunyoung. Yifan discreetly asked Junmyeon about her, and the only information he managed to get from him, is that the woman is a public attorney.

“An associate at work.” Junmyeon tells him, over drinks.

Yifan swirls the remains of his whiskey, his finger tapping against the rim of the glass. “Does she make you happy?”

Junmyeon shrugs, “There’s nothing going on. We’re friends.” The prosecutor is smiling, a small secret smile. Junmyeon is a master of hiding emotions; there’s got to be a couple hundred reasons for that minute expression and even after two decades of knowing each other, Yifan still can’t read him.

“You look happy.” Yifan says. He doesn’t really feel anything at all anymore. He thinks he would be alright with anything at this point. If Junmyeon remains happy. He’d be okay. “Maybe you should consider your own words, about remarrying, I mean.”

Junmyeon remains quiet for a few seconds before he turns his gaze and pins it upon Yifan. Yifan’s heart, races.

“Do you want me to?”

Junmyeon’s gaze portrays a little of everything – amusement, seriousness, hesitation…fear.

“Why’d you ask me that?”

Junmyeon expression shutters and Yifan swears he saw disappointment in the man’s face before it’s quickly replaced by another ambiguous smile. “Because you’re my best friend.”

“That title doesn’t really give me much privilege.” Yifan says dryly. “But if you want to find love again, then by all means, do it.”

“How about you Wu? Will you ever try, even just for your sons?”

“I tried, Myeon. It simply did not work.”

 

Christmas comes around with snow and promises of good days ahead.

Yifan and Junmyeon decide to have their Christmas dinner in Junmyeon’s abode. Jongdae had recently arrived from Shanghai armed with souvenirs and news of his engagement to a lovely Chinese woman – a Zhang Liyin.

“Goddamn.” Jongdae had enunciated the first time he sees Yifan. “I thought you were dead. When’s the last time I saw you? Was it twenty years ago, I swear I almost forgot what you looked like.”

Yifan gathered Jongdae in an embrace so tight, he almost cut off the man’s circulation. Even after all these years, Jongdae is still sarcastic as ever.

“I missed you, Jongdae.” Yifan chuckles, “You’re still loud as hell.”

“It’s not me if it ain’t loud.”

“What did Liyin ever see in you?” Junmyeon suddenly comments, emerging from the kitchen. “You’re a disaster!”

“Yah! Kim Junmyeon. I’m still your twins’ favorite uncle.”

And like a megaphone that he is, said twins are then seen ambling to the living room. The four of them are all decked in matching Christmas sweaters; those that look cute only because the wearers are kids. Yifan also caved and bought them reindeer headbands, just because it looked cute on the boys. They all look adorable.

“Uncle Jongdae!” Jongin shouts from across the room and technically lunges at Jongdae.

“See, still their favorite uncle.”

Yifan laughs. Baekhyun and Chanyeol, who’ve been evidently curious about the noise, gathers behind Yifan’s legs and peers up at Jongdae.

“And who might these be?”

“My name is Wu Baekhyun and this is my brother, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun says, smiling shyly at Jongdae.

“Oh my god Yifan! This adorable creature is your kid? How did you manage to have such cute little children?”

“Is that an insult?” Yifan laughs. “You’re going to scare my boys.”

Jongdae merely wags a finger at him as he bends down and brandishes a chocolate bar, seemingly out of nowhere. This man really knows how to bribe his way into his kids’ heart.

“They’re sugar-free, by the way.” Jongdae tells him. “Liyin’s a pediatrician. She hates chocolate unless they’re made healthy.”

“Nice.”

“Exactly. I can’t wait to get married!”

Yifan laughs.

 

The Christmas dinner is a satisfying affair between old friends. Jongdae regales them with anecdotes of his recent trip to China, and the table is alive with amicable laughter.

Sunyoung is also present at the table. She’s a lovely woman, very intelligent. Yifan can see why Junmyeon harbored an infatuation. Maybe she’d end up being a great stepmother to the twins.

It’s a bittersweet thought which Yifan forces to the back of his mind with glasses of wine. He wants to numb himself.

The dinner table gets a bit stifling so Yifan quietly excuses himself and heads to the terrace for a smoke break.

“You’re Yifan?”

Yifan glances behind him to see none other than Sunyoung. Yifan stubs the remains of his cigarette in his effort to try and be civil.

“Hi.” Sunyoung says before she lights a stick herself. She inhales a long drag and exhales white billowy smoke.

“Hey.”

“So how are things going on with Junmyeon?”

Yifan cocks a brow. “I should be the one asking you that. He still hasn’t asked you to dinner or something?”

Sunyoung taps the charred ends of her cigarette against the railing and sighs. “I’m still waiting but it looks like I’ve read his signals wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“He seemed happier lately. I thought it was because of you.”

“I thought so too.” Sunyoung takes another long inhale before she lets the cig’s butt fall to the ground. “You honestly seem like a good man. Junmyeon tells me that his twins like you a lot.”

“That’s variable.” Yifan replies. “It helps that I have boys of the same age.”

“I think the twins like you because you make their father happy.”

Yifan only smiles as he watches her turn her back and head for the apartment once again. She left him with rather confusing statements.

Lawyers. Yifan will never be able to read them.

 

The guests bid their goodbyes at midnight. Yifan is also about to retire for the night since he was planning to visit his mother the next morning. However, Junmyeon stops him before he can even step out.

“There’s like two bottles of wine left.” Junmyeon. “Let’s get drunk for the sake of the occasion.”

“You just want me to get wasted, do you?”

“You could say that.”

 

Two bottles of wine and an endless conversation later, Yifan is officially drunk. Junmyeon looks beautiful, his face is flushed and he’s laughing at something Yifan had said.

Yifan wants this moment to last. They’re carefree and a little boisterous, inhibitions are shed.

“Your husband.” Junmyeon leans against the dining table, the wine glass still close to his lips as he speaks. “What did he look like?”

“That’s a terrible question.”

The truth is, if Yifan described Lei based on his features and build, he’d technically also be describing Junmyeon.

“Was he handsome then?”

“Why are you so keen on knowing?”

Junmyeon shrugs. “I’m curious.”

Yifan rolls his eyes. “He’s handsome.”

“Handsome as in?”

Junmyeon’s staring at him, Yifan’s mind registers, and he’s so fucking beautiful. “Handsome as in pale skin, warm brown eyes, high cheek bones and…”

Yifan’s mind must have been playing tricks on him. He swears Junmyeon’s cheeks got more flushed as he talks.

“And?”

“He had nice lips. Plush, soft. Pliant when kissed.”

And Junmyeon had such nice lips; Yifan wants to kiss him.

But Junmyeon beats him to it.

Yifan would later blame it on the copious amount of alcohol in his system fueled further by the longing that had accumulated in the past six years.

Junmyeon’s lips are chapped, and his mouth tasted like wine. But the seam of his mouth slotted perfectly against Yifan’s and it is perfect. Junmyeon draws the artist closer and Yifan gasps into his mouth and responds to the kiss. His head is spinning and he’s not sure if it’s the wine on Junmyeon’s lips or he’s plain hallucinating.

 Junmyeon’s hands are firmly anchored at the back of his neck and Yifan manages to steady himself by grasping Junmyeon’s thighs.

It’s perfect; Junmyeon kissed Yifan, like he loved him. 

The kiss douses a fire, quenches a thirst, sates a longing. Yifan’s heartbeat is erratic and he knows that he will regret this later, he knows that he’d put his and Junmyeon’s friendship on the line, by eagerly responding to a drunken kiss. But if given the chance, Yifan would kiss Junmyeon still, again and again.

When they part, Yifan rests his forehead against Junmyeon’s and they stare at each other for three seconds which felt too much like an eternity.

“Junmyeon” Yifan whispers, boring his eyes into Junmyeon’s. “What just happened?”

Junmyeon stares at him as if he’s waiting for Yifan to say something.

Say it, Yifan’s mind screams, tell him you love him.

Human beings are cowards when faced with their own emotions. In retrospect, it would have been so easy to just admit right there and get it over with.

“I’m sorry.” Junmyeon says after seemingly realizing the gravity of his own mistake. He pushes Yifan away and stands up. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

The pain is expected. Yifan had been foolish to even think that something would begin from an experimental kiss, born out of pure inebriation.

Yifan chuckles dryly to himself, “I have to go, Junmyeon.”

And he evades the needed confrontation, because he’s too good at that: running away.

//

2019, Seoul

February.

 

“Papa why do we never see Junmyeon ahjussi these days?”

The question comes all of a sudden.

Yifan’s still busy getting dragged by dogs ten times smaller than he is, when Chanyeol grabs the back of his shirt and asks.

Mongryeong’s wagging his behind and Toben is innocently staring at Yifan with his adorable obsidian orbs.

“Junmyeon is just busy.” Yifan tells Chanyeol.

“But I miss Jongin-ie and Sehun-ie.”

 Yifan then turns to his eldest and sighs. The boys really miss the twins but Yifan can’t do anything about that now, not when Junmyeon has refused to see him since December.

It’s been a month and he misses Junmyeon, a lot.

“Don’t you guys see each other at school?”

Chanyeol shakes his head, his lower lip juts out. “Jongin-ie hasn’t been at school. Teacher Lee says, they are on an extended vacation. What’s that papa?”

Figures. Yifan had previously thought Junmyeon had completely cut him off his life after their sudden bout of drunken intimacy.

Intimacy? Can a small fucking kiss even be called intimacy at this day and age? Yifan wants to laugh at himself.

Yifan approaches a bench and sits down, his boys clamber after him.

“To tell you the truth, your Junmyeon ahjussi just needed some space.”

The statement ultimately confuses the boys, Yifan expected as much, so with patience, he begins to elaborate the complexities of adult relationships into fine bits that children can process. He starts by: “Your Junmyeon ahjussi just needs some time off.”

“Did his mama scold him, papa?”

Yifan laughs and shakes his head. “No. Let’s just say that your ahjussi has a very difficult homework and he can’t ask his papa or his mama or anyone to help him. So, he needs space, to figure out the answer. Do you understand.”

Twin expression of awe grace the boys’ features and Yifan couldn’t help the small smile that escaped him.

“So, does this mean we can’t disturb Junmyeon ahjussi?”

“Yes.” Yifan admits, nodding. “Don’t worry Baek-ah, Yeol-ah. I’m sure your ahjussi will come around.”

For now, that seemed to pacify his children’s concerns.

“Papa, do you love Junmyeon ahjussi?”

Yifan stares at his youngest and smiles. “Yes, Chanyeol. I do love Junmyeon. Is that okay with you?”

Chanyeol nods.

“Junmyeon ahjussi makes you happy a lot, papa.” Baekhyun says.

“Yes, he does, son.”

Junmyeon has always been one of his greatest sources of happiness.

“I love Junmyeon ahjussi too.” Chanyeol mumbles, “He’s nice.”

 

//

Yifan, let’s talk.

The artist stares at the screen of his banged up Iphone and rereads the terribly impersonal message Junmyeon had sent him.

After almost two months of no contact, this is what he gets. Three words and two punctuation marks. Yifan scoffs to himself.

Sure. Where do you wanna meet?

SNU’s soccer field. I’ll be waiting.

                                                          Okay. I’ll be there.

 

Seoul National University holds so much memories. Some, fond and some, painful.

In retrospect, the painful memories probably outnumbered the good ones, but the good ones are also unforgettable.

Junmyeon’s sitting in the middle of the empty soccer field. It’s nighttime, and the weather is bone chilling.

“Do you remember when Seojun ran naked around this field?”

Yifan bends down and sits beside Junmyeon on the damp grass. “Yeah.” He answers, “First semester of our junior year. I still don’t know why you guys at the soccer team made him do it.”

“T’was because of a stupid dare.” Junmyeon says, “He really liked this Econ major and all he could talk about was her, her, her. It was fucking annoying. So, we dared him to confess within three days, just to get his lust over with. We thought if he managed to successfully get into her pants, then he’ll stop being fascinated. And if he couldn’t, then there would be a punishment.”

“And I could safely assume, he had no idea about your punishment.”

Junmyeon snorts. “Of course, he didn’t. Tough shit. But he surprised us. We all thought he wanted it to be a vague hookup or a short fling – some shit like that. But he actually liked her. They got married last year. Beautiful people.” 

“But you guys still made him run on his birthday suit.”

“Because he couldn’t tell her back then. And he’d rather risk punishment than blow his chances.”

The sky is beautiful tonight, Yifan notes. The stars seemed more apparent than they usually are. “I understand Seojun.” he says, averting his gaze. “It takes a lot of courage to admit that you like someone, even more so when admitting something as deep an emotion as love.  I’m happy it all worked well for him in the end.”

They share a short moment of silence after that. Yifan begins to count every student that goes out for a night jog.

“I’m sorry.” Is what Junmyeon says to break the silence.

“For what?” Yifan asks even if he already knows.

“For everything.”

Yifan exhales. “Do you remember when you asked me back then, if I dated anyone?”

Junmyeon nods.

“Will you ask me again?” Junmyeon cocks an eyebrow at him. Yifan snorts, “Come on Junmyeon. Humor me.”

The prosecutor shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Wu?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you ever date someone in the past few years? You never really told me.”

Yifan shrugs. “I did. He’s a man by the way. His name’s Lu Han and he’s got to be the most fucking beautiful human being I’ve ever had the chances of knowing. And maybe I was infatuated with him, in that soul searing kind of way. But he left me; told me I couldn’t give him what he wants. Then I also got married to this amazing businessman. His name is Zhao Lei. I broke his heart, because I’m selfish and I couldn’t love him like how he loved me. And there you have it, a short summary of my tragic romantic life.”

Junmyeon chuckles at Yifan’s no nonsense explanations.

“Then how about love? Did you ever love someone in these past few years?”

Yifan stares at him and says, “That’s a tough question.”

“Answer it.”

“I did.” Yifan replies, smiling softly. “I still do.”

Junmyeon mirrors his expression. “Who?”

“You. I loved you Junmyeon, I still do. All these years, it’s always been you.”

And after so long, the thorn’s finally out of his chest. The wound throbs, but Yifan knows it would soon fade. It would soon heal.

He knows, he just knows.

And it is not moving on – Yifan reiterates time and time again, that he will never be capable of simply flushing out every little fond feeling he held for Junmyeon, he tried and he failed.

That was what made Yifan a coward. He refused to accept that he can’t move on from Junmyeon even if his best friend continued to, unknowingly, be the cause of his happiness and even more of his misery.

Yifan’s prideful and selfish self in turn, used other people to help him forget. He knew, even before he married Lei, that it would never work out between them but at least he had deluded himself that he was finally moving on. Hell, he had the imagery for it – a nice home in an American suburb, a husband that loved him dearly – and yet his heart had always been halfway across the globe.

Yifan’s admission is an act of bravery for he’s finally acknowledging his errors. He’s finally said all that should have been said long ago. No more lies, no more half-truths. He’s finally repenting for all the hurt he’d inflicted upon people while he’d been trying to cope with his pain.

It’s not a surrender, because Yifan will never and can never be in love with Junmyeon any less.

But it’s an acceptance, because Yifan can now fully embrace the fact that he’d always be a friend, a brother, a soulmate. But will never be a lover.

After all, Yifan is still grateful to remain in Junmyeon’s life, even it’s for mere kinship or brotherhood. He’d remain in Junmyeon’s life, for heartaches, for love.

 “I’m really sorry.” Junmyeon utters once again. He leans heavily against Yifan. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Yifan tells him. “But let’s not change, alright. The twins’ birthday is coming up. Chanyeol and Baek’s already missing them.”

“I’m planning of going all out. Let’s throw them a huge party.”

“Whatever you want, Junmyeon. Maybe you should also ask Sunyoung to dinner sometime. You left the poor woman hanging.”

Junmyeon laughs. “You think I should?”

“Yeah.” Yifan says, “You should.”

Yes, especially for love.

 

--

Seoul, 2009

December

“Will you tell me something, have you ever fallen in love?”

 “Yes.”

“Who?”

“You.”

Junmyeon has never understood why his heart skipped a beat. His best friend had put him through so much shock that he was incoherent.

“Ah fuck you Wu, seriously fuck you.”

Yifan was lauging and Junmyeon’s heartbeat was a little erratic. His voice was unsteady.  

What if?

What if?