this song goes out to you [2/2]

[greycheonsa]

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Verse Two: You became someone I'd never forget after a while, from the way you teased me to the soft curve of your smile. Every second that we spent, and every single happy moment, made me never regret taking a second look.

“Earth to Junhwe.”

Junhwe glares at Donghyuk, who’s staring at him from across a pot of simmering soup. Donghyuk gives him a very pointed look, glancing between Junhwe and his phone on the table, one eyebrow raised.

“You gonna tell me why you’re glued to your phone?” Donghyuk asks, half-kidding, half-serious as he picks up a slice of beef with his chopsticks and dunks it into the broth. “This is unusual, even for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Junhwe retorts, snagging Donghyuk’s meat when he’d let it out of his chopsticks for just a moment. He grins, chewing slowly as Donghyuk glares at him.

“You are horrible,” Donghyuk sighs, but simply takes another piece from the plate beside them. “Don’t change the subject, though. You’re obviously talking to someone. And you keep smiling. It’s kind of weird.”

Junhwe shrugs, swishing around some noodles. “Is it weird to smile if you’re happy?”

“Yeah, if it’s you. So spill.”

Donghyuk’s got his ‘disapproving mom’ face on. Junhwe seriously considers just getting up and leaving right now, only Donghyuk’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve that could make his life hell.

Plus, he figures his manager is a good person to have on his side.

“I have a boyfriend,” Junhwe says, pulling the noodles out and putting them in his bowl, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as if he were saying “I have a bag of chips.” It’s the first time he’s admitting it out loud to anyone (this is mostly because he doesn’t actually have anyone else to admit this to. Absently, he wonders if Jinhwan’s told anyone).

Donghyuk, of course, will not be thrown off that easily. “You what?”

Junhwe says nothing else, slurping his noodles loudly. Donghyuk’s expression twists oddly, and he runs his a hand through his hair.

“Let it be said that as your manager, I thoroughly disapprove of this and advise you to keep this strictly on the down-low,” he says at last, his voice only barely stern before he breaks out into a smile. “As your friend, though, I require that you tell me everything.”

“Since when were we friends?”

“Since I’m treating you to dinner, dipshit.”

“You know all that money is because of me, right? And watch your mouth, Dongdong, what if someone heard you calling their precious June-oppa a dipshit?”

Junhwe’s still grinning madly as Donghyuk kicks his shin under the table.

“You’re ridiculous,” Donghyuk grumbles, “but seriously, Junhwe. I’m happy for you. How long?”

“About… three months?” Junhwe exhales. He almost can’t believe it’s been that long already - it feels like it was just a few weeks ago that he and Jinhwan met, all their little dates and stolen moments in the back of Jinhwan’s car blending together into what’s probably been the best few months of Junhwe’s life.

He feels a little relieved, somehow. He hadn’t been looking for approval - he’s never been one to seek out a second opinion if he’s certain of his own. But it’s nice to hear nonetheless.

The conversation turns to other, more mundane things after that - Donghyuk knows better than to pry into Junhwe’s personal life, and Junhwe doesn’t care to share.

“How’s the album coming along?” Donghyuk asks, resting his chin on a propped-up fist. “You do still remember your day job, right?”

“Funny you should ask,” Junhwe stalls. If he were to be completely honest, he’d forgotten all about it. It’s difficult to forget that you’re famous altogether, but being on hiatus and spending most of his time in a blissful waking dream had managed to wipe most other thoughts from his mind. He blames it on the fact that he generally tends to have a one-track thought process.

Donghyuk chuckles - they’ve known each other for years, and know exactly how to read between the lines.

“Don’t go shirking your duties, now,” he teases, wagging his finger before proceeding to snag the last piece of beef before Junhwe can react. “You still have a job to do. I would think, though, that it would be easier for you, now.”

“Huh?”

Donghyuk rolls his eyes. “Think about it. People are usually inspired by strong emotions. You, who usually makes it a point not to get swept up in feelings much at all, are suddenly struck dumb with hearts in your eyes.”

“I do not have hearts in my eyes-”

“The point is, Junhwe,” Donghyuk continues, “don’t you have a source of inspiration now?”

Junhwe considers this as Donghyuk pays for the meal, mentally cursing once it hits him. Donghyuk’s right (as always - it’s infuriating). Didn’t he think about writing romance songs before? He’s definitely got plenty of material, now.

He would feel weird, though, writing songs indirectly about Jinhwan without actually getting his permission. It’s not like anyone’s going to find out, unless Junhwe makes explicit lyrical references or ends up revealing everything on national television - neither of which he’s likely to do, since he’s notoriously private about his life anyway.

They part ways as they leave the restaurant, Junhwe hailing a taxi to head home. The Saturday night is still young, though, and he finds his thoughts drifting during the short ride back. Naturally, his thoughts drift to Jinhwan, wondering what the elder is doing. The last he’d heard from him (his boyfriend, Jinhwan is his boyfriend, and even just thinking that makes Junhwe feel a little giddy inside) was half an hour ago, before Donghyuk had started interrogating him.

u busy? he sends, drumming his fingers on the seat beside him as he waits for a reply.

It comes barely seconds later:

Kim Jinhwan: no, not rly. why?
Koo Junhwe: wanna hang out at my place? we can watch a movie or smth
Kim Jinhwan: june you do realize i’ve never been inside ur building? what number?
Koo Junhwe: oh. right.

Junhwe’s sure his face is flaming red underneath his face mask as he text Jinhwan his address, replied to with a see you in 30.

This means, Junhwe realizes as he enters his apartment and takes in the relative mess of clothes strewn about his sofa and floor, that he has less than half an hour to get his apartment in a state that’s vaguely acceptable to be seen by other people - especially someone he wants to impress. Luckily, Junhwe’s long limbs enable him to zip around and grab his clothes quickly, depositing them in a corner of his bedroom where he hopes Jinhwan won’t notice.

Five minutes before Jinhwan is expected to arrive, though, Junhwe’s suddenly struck by the realization that he may have just indirectly propositioned Jinhwan. Inviting him over to watch a movie at night on a weekend? This is straight out of a bad movie.

Junhwe throws himself face-first on his sofa, screaming into a pillow.

It’s not like he’s never thought about having sex with Jinhwan before, and it’s not like he’s never had sex before, either. But he’s never had sex with someone he’s been in a relationship with - he has no idea how it works. He’s heard of the ‘three-date rule,’ but they haven’t even really been on defined dates. How soon is too soon? Has Jinhwan been expecting him to try and make a move already? Does Jinhwan even want to have sex?

Or maybe Junhwe’s just overthinking it. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

The doorbell rings, and Junhwe bolts off the sofa, taking a couple of deep breaths before he checks the video screen next to the door to make sure it is in fact Jinhwan, and not just some random lost person.

Junhwe opens the door, and is greeted with a soft kiss to the cheek as Jinhwan steps over the threshold, a paper bag in one hand.

“Nice place,” Jinhwan says, eyes flicking around curiously. “I was expecting something… flashier?”

Junhwe’s cheeks burn. “I mean, I could have got a bigger place if I really wanted. But there’s no point, right? It’s just me living here, and the only visitors I get are my parents, my sister, my manager, and now you.” He shrugs, gesturing to his apartment at large. “So here is my humble abode. Do you want, like, a tour or something?”

“That would be nice.” Jinhwan reaches out, taking Junhwe’s hand in his free hand as he holds up the bag with the other. “I brought drinks.”

“Oh, thanks hyung,” Junhwe says. “Guess we can hit up the kitchen first.”

He walks a few steps over, where his kitchen sits next to the entryway. “Here it is.”

Jinhwan laughs, leaning over to put the bag on the counter, after which Junhwe turns them both around. “And this is my living room. That door,” he points to one on the left, “is the bathroom. And that one,” he points to the other, “is my, uh, room. Where I sleep. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Jinhwan stands up on his tiptoes, lips brushing against Junhwe’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Will I get to see your room?”

“Depends how thorough of a tour you want?” Junhwe manages to eke out. Why is it that he always ends up feeling like an awkward teenager again when Jinhwan keeps pulling shit like this? He thought he was smoother than that by now.

Jinhwan just smiles, letting go of Junhwe’s hand and walking into the kitchen. “Where do you keep your cups?”

“That cabinet in the corner-”

Right as the words leave Junhwe’s mouth and Jinhwan opens the cabinet in question, Junhwe remembers a few things:

1. This is Junhwe’s apartment.
2. He has a good twenty centimeters on Jinhwan in height, a difference made even more apparent when you take outstretched arm length into consideration.
3. While Junhwe might think absolutely nothing of putting his drinking glasses on a higher shelf, Jinhwan is well on his way to climbing on top of the counter in order to reach them.

“Oh, god, hyung,” Junhwe mumbles, walking up behind Jinhwan quickly to grab two glasses before Jinhwan ends up cracking his head open on the tile floor. His chest presses flush against Jinhwan’s back as he reaches up, and Junhwe considers it a miracle in and of itself that he doesn’t drop the cups.

“Thanks,” Jinhwan says, taking them from Junhwe’s hands. “I brought some sparkling cider; I wasn’t sure if you wanted alcohol or not.” He takes the bottle out of the bag while Junhwe pulls a tray of ice out of the freezer and puts a few cubes into each glass.

“It’s fine, hyung, I have some soju in the fridge if you really want it.” Junhwe wonders if he’s going to be the one wanting the alcohol, depending on how this night ends up. Junhwe takes one glass in each hand as they walk to the living room, and he sets the cups down on his coffee table.

“What kind of movies do you like, hyung?” Junhwe asks as he turns on TV, switching to Netflix while Jinhwan pours the drinks.

“I like, ah, romance movies, usually,” Jinhwan says, his cheeks flushing just a little as he caps the bottle and leans back on the sofa. “It’s not really a guy thing, but-”

“No, seriously,” Junhwe laughs, gesturing to his recent views list, “this is perfect.” Jinhwan is perfect, really - Junhwe’s never met a guy before who had the same taste that he did.

Jinhwan beams. “Play whatever you like, then.”

Junhwe queues up one of his favorites, turning off the lights while the opening starts to play. He sits down on the sofa at the opposite side of Jinhwan, one leg propped bent up on the cushions while the other rests on the floor.

They sit like that for the first ten minutes of the film; the tension is thick, seemingly magnified in the darkened room.

Junhwe clears his throat. “Hyung, if you want, you could… over here…”

His words are failing him again. Excellent.

Jinhwan doesn’t seem to mind, scooting over on the sofa wordlessly until his head is resting against Junhwe’s chest. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” It’s definitely okay, if you ignore the fact that Junhwe’s heartbeat is probably off the charts, and Jinhwan can probably hear it, now.

Another fifteen minutes pass; Junhwe’s started taking to absently stroking Jinhwan’s hair, to which the elder responds with a soft hum. He’s barely paying attention to the movie anymore, since he’s seen it before, but once the couple onscreen starts making out, Jinhwan turns to blink up at him.

“Wanna?” he suggests, and Junhwe doesn’t need to be asked twice before he’s pulling Jinhwan up to sit on his lap, the elder kissing him slowly as Junhwe leans back against the armrest of the sofa. They don’t kiss like this often - usually they’re a bit in a rush, sneaking what they can in Jinhwan’s car sometimes before the elder has to drive home so he can go to sleep at a decent time for work, or the rare, daring kiss in an alleyway. And while sure, Junhwe’s never been opposed to a heated makeout session, the way Jinhwan looks at him now is so tender, so loving, that Junhwe now knows what it’s really like to get lost in someone’s eyes.

“How ‘bout you give me the bedroom tour now?” Jinhwan whispers.

“Excellent plan,” Junhwe replies, shutting off his television and rising to his feet, fingers tangling with Jinhwan’s as he leads them over, opening the door and tugging Jinhwan toward the bed. The elder lies down on his back, his fingers gripping the front of Junhwe’s shirt as he pulls him down to kiss him again.

Junhwe’s heart feels so full - he’s never felt this way before in his entire life.

“I love you,” Junhwe says as he breaks the kiss, and the words feel so right, like he’s finally put a name to the feeling he’s had all along.

And Jinhwan smiles, radiant even in the darkness.

“I love you, too.”

He pulls Junhwe back down again, pressing their bodies tight together as hands roam underneath fabric and skin touches skin.

Junhwe’s had sex plenty of times before, but after that night, Junhwe thinks he finally understands the difference between that and making love.

Second Chorus: I thought what we had was love, almost hit me right out of the blue, the way you fit right next to me and made me feel something new. I never wanted to let go, I thought that this was true. If you’re listening to this, baby, know that this song goes out to you.

It’s almost frightening how easy it is to love Jinhwan.

Junhwe’s never been in love before. Certainly, he’s loved people, like his family members, and he’s had crushes. But he’s never felt like his entire world could ever center around someone besides himself - Jinhwan’s the other half that Junhwe never knew he was missing.

He’d asked Jinhwan the next morning if it was alright to write music about him - while Jinhwan had expressed a few reservations at first, once Junhwe had assured him that there would be no specifics, and no one would ever have to know who the muse behind it all was, the elder had readily agreed.

Junhwe had written his first love song later that evening, sending the rough draft off for approval. It was dubbed by Donghyuk to be “something I’d never thought could come out of your mouth, but it’s genuine.”

Junhwe feels as though he could run off of this forever, living in a never-ending sensation of happiness.

The problem, though, is that even though Junhwe’s head is up in the clouds, there comes a point where he has to come back down to earth.

Junhwe’s grown complacent, so wrapped up in his own life that he’d almost forgotten about his social status - no matter how averagely he sees himself, how average of a life Jinhwan has, he is a celebrity.

And being a celebrity comes with certain risks.

For example, the fact that if someone sees him in public, that might soon end up on the internet. And while he’s learned to cope with that, a certain other person who isn’t famous hasn’t.

One afternoon when Junhwe wakes up, he finds a text from Donghyuk with a link to a post on Pann mentioning his name.

just thought you should know, he’d said, we’re not going to release any statement about it because there’s no real proof, but you might want to watch out.

Junhwe’s no stranger to gossip, and when he was first getting started in the industry, he would sometimes look himself up for fun to see what people were saying about him. He’d use the positive to bolster his ego, and the negative to improve. For the most part, though, he hasn’t looked up those sorts of things in a long time.

Maybe that had been a mistake.

Koo Junhwe, dating??? the post title reads, and Junhwe’s heart seizes as he opens the link. His eyes dart over the words, letting out a long exhale of relief when he finds that there are no pictures, but the person who posted it seems quite adamant that it was, in fact, him, detailing where the alleged sighting had been, as well as what Junhwe had been wearing.

Junhwe almost drops his phone as he remembers that day - it was a Sunday, and he and Jinhwan had been walking back to Jinhwan’s car. Junhwe remembers playing with Jinhwan’s beanie, yanking it further down his head as they turned a corner.

he was with someone shorter than him, reached to about his nose. i could only see the backs of their heads, and the person june-oppa was with was wearing a hat. they kept holding hands… has our june-oppa finally started dating??? who is it… i want to know...

Donghyuk’s guess was true - the comment section is split between people who think it could be true since Junhwe’s been out of the public eye for a while, people who won’t believe it without picture proof, and people who are just in disbelief, period.

Koo Junhwe: should i tell him?
Kim Donghyuk: up to you.
Kim Donghyuk: but if you’re in a relationship, shouldn’t he be involved in any issues that involve him?

Junhwe falls back against his pillow, his phone falling out of his hand onto his stomach. He feels uneasy, knowing that his secret could possibly be out. Based on past experience, he’s pretty sure this singular incident will blow over in a few days, but the internet never forgets, and it’ll be waiting for Junhwe to mess up again.

Normally, Junhwe likes to pretend his problems don’t exist if he can. There’s a very high chance that Jinhwan hasn’t seen the post, and likely never will. But Donghyuk’s right, again, and Junhwe knows that if this is to continue, Jinhwan needs to know.

Koo Junhwe: hyung, come over after work?
Kim Jinhwan: sure

Junhwe is restless as he waits for the hours go by, wondering if he’s made a colossal mistake. He would never regret anything when it comes to Jinhwan, but the what if’s weigh so heavily on his mind that they threaten to bury him. The public would not be kind in the slightest - Junhwe would never forgive himself if Jinhwan ever got hurt because of him.

Around seven in the evening, Junhwe hears his front door unlock, and soft footsteps walking through his living room to the bedroom.

“Hey, June-yah,” Jinhwan says. He’s still in his work clothes, but he climbs up on the bed to rest next to Junhwe anyway.

Junhwe presses a kiss to Jinhwan’s temple, reaching an arm around him to cuddle him close. They lie there like that for a while, Junhwe just stalling for time while he figures out how to try to broach the topic. How does one even say “so some people may have caught us on a date, guess we can’t go outside anymore”?

Jinhwan shifts in Junhwe’s hold, running a hand over Junhwe’s arm. “Why’re you so tense?”

Junhwe lets out a long sigh, before deciding that the best course of action would probably be just to come out with it.

“We… remember last weekend?” he hedges.

Jinhwan nods.

“We got… caught,” he continues, watching Jinhwan’s face for any signs of displeasure. “No one took any pictures or anything, but… I just thought you should know. We’ll have to be more careful from now on. I’m sorry for being careless.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jinhwan murmurs, his eyes closing. Junhwe knows him well enough by now to know that this means Jinhwan’s thinking, and doesn’t want to be disturbed.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Junhwe tries again. “I’ll be more careful next time. We can just stay in, and I won’t do anything in public-”

“Stop.” Jinhwan’s voice is firm, bordering on cold. “Please, Junhwe.”

Junhwe can tell Jinhwan’s unhappy, but he doesn’t want to push the subject any more - he doesn’t want Jinhwan to snap. Jinhwan’s never gotten seriously angry at him before, and Junhwe certainly doesn’t want to start now.

They lie there a while longer, Junhwe running a hand through Jinhwan’s hair and wondering if Jinhwan will say anything else. He knows that the elder can be a bit guarded when it comes to certain things, but he usually comes around after a while.

This time, though, Junhwe’s not sure. Jinhwan doesn’t bring up the topic again after that, and for the next few days, he seems a bit withdrawn - his responses to Junhwe’s messages are slower and shorter, and when they do meet up again, it’s Junhwe who ends up initiating almost all of the intimate contact.

As time goes on, Jinhwan seems return to normal, and they put the incident behind them. But Junhwe can’t help but wonder when Jinhwan staunchly keeps a distance between them in public, looking over his shoulder every few minutes, if their moment is up.

Bridge: People say all good things come to an end, but I didn’t listen - I thought that was an ‘if,’ not a ‘when.’ But it all came crashing down, I almost wondered if this was a mistake. I guess it just goes to show that all it takes is a single night to make two hearts break.

It’s a day that starts out like any other. It’s Saturday, Jinhwan’s off of work, and Junhwe asked if he’d wanted to come over to watch a movie.

Jinhwan had accepted, bringing over a bag of chips - one of Junhwe’s favorites - and some assorted drinks from the convenience store.

“Hey, hyung,” Junhwe greets as Jinhwan lets himself in. He’s queued up something from Netflix, a romance movie that had come out recently. To be honest, they’re probably not going to end up watching much of the movie anyway, but they’ve never called each other up just for sex and they’re not going to start now.

“Hey,” Jinhwan replies, toeing off his shoes and sitting down on the couch next to Junhwe, who wraps an arm around him easily and pulls him down so he’s lying back to Junhwe’s chest, a gesture they’ve repeated time and time again. Jinhwan sets the bag of chips on his lap, and Junhwe presses play.

They try to follow the movie for the first half hour or so, just eating chips and drinking coffee milk and making offhand comments about things that are happening in the film. Somewhere along the lines, though, Jinhwan turns his head to kiss at Junhwe’s jaw, eventually setting the bag of chips at the other end of the couch and turning over onto his stomach to kiss Junhwe properly, tongue sliding over Junhwe’s lips as he deepens it. Junhwe responds in kind, one of his hands slipping under the hem of Jinhwan’s shirt, a broad palm splayed over the small of Jinhwan’s back.

“Bed?” Junhwe asks after a bit, and Jinhwan nods, legs wrapping around Junhwe’s waist as he stands, Junhwe’s hands coming up to support Jinhwan’s ass in a well-practiced motion as he carries them to his bedroom, pushing Jinhwan down onto the bed and tugging Jinhwan’s shirt off over his head before doing the same himself.

There’s something hungrier in the way Jinhwan kisses him tonight, his hands clutching at the back of Junhwe’s neck, pulling him closer and closer. Junhwe’s not complaining, but it’s different from their usual - slow, sweet, pretending that they have all the time in the world.

Tonight, it seems like Jinhwan’s on a one man race to nowhere, hell-bent on bringing Junhwe along with him as he pushes down his own jeans and boxers in one fell swoop, thumbs hooking into Junhwe’s to urge him to do the same.

“June,” Jinhwan pants, lips red and kiss-swollen, “please.”

Jinhwan sounds desperate, which isn’t something Junhwe’s unfamiliar with. But there’s something odd that Junhwe can’t quite pinpoint as Jinhwan begs him to go faster while Junhwe preps him, hips jerking insistently.

His ankles lock around Junhwe’s back as Junhwe pushes into him, keeping Junhwe’s chest almost flush with his own. His eyes seem to bore into Junhwe’s, his eyes teary, almost pleading.

Junhwe would be lying if he said he didn’t find it a little unsettling. But he just closes his eyes, kissing Jinhwan hard and hoping that at least Jinhwan finds some comfort in knowing that he will always be here for him.

Jinhwan finishes with a low sigh, Junhwe following soon after, and Junhwe rolls off of him to the side of the bed, chest heaving with post-sex exertion.

The room is silent, save for their breathing.

“Junhwe,” Jinhwan says suddenly, his voice still breathless, but there’s something serious about his tone. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” Junhwe asks, propping himself up on his elbow and threading his fingers through Jinhwan’s hair, messy and sweat-damp. “What is it, hyung?”

“We,” Jinhwan starts, swallowing thickly. The air is tense, suddenly - Junhwe’s hit with a horrible sense of foreboding. “Junhwe, you know I love you, right?”

“Unless you’ve been lying to me this whole time, then yeah, I know,” Junhwe says, a weak attempt at trying to lighten the mood.

Jinhwan sighs, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “I… it’s…”

“If you’re going to say ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ then just stop right there.” Junhwe frowns, withdrawing his hand from Jinhwan’s hair. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“This was never meant to last.” Jinhwan’s eyes close, and it’s almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. “This is supposed to run its course and we’re both supposed to go back to the way things used to be. You’re supposed to forget all about me in a few months and get swept away by some gorgeous fellow celebrity and I’m supposed to go back to my office job, get married and have a couple of kids and maybe a dog, and look back on this occasionally with fond memories of the time I once caught the attention of a singer.”

“You’re the one who talked to me first,” Junhwe says, purposely ignoring the point Jinhwan’s trying to make as dread starts to pool in his stomach, “so technically, it’s the time I caught your attention, right?”

“Would you have noticed me if I hadn’t?” Jinhwan asks wryly.

“That’s-that’s not a fair question,” Junhwe retorts. “I was only at that bar to drink. If I’d gone for the purpose of trying to meet someone, then yeah, I probably would have noticed you.”

“I read some of your interviews,” Jinhwan muses. He’s still not looking at Junhwe. “You said your ideal type was someone sexy.”

“You are sexy, though,” Junhwe says, the edges of desperation starting to leak into his voice. “I mean, I wouldn’t have sex with you if I didn’t think you were, right?”

“June-” Jinhwan sighs. He sounds so resigned. He’s already made up his mind, and nothing Junhwe can ever do or say will change it, but Junhwe’ll be damned if he doesn’t try anyways.

“Hyung, can’t we-can’t we work something out?” Junhwe asks. “I mean, we never have to go public with this. We can do anything you want. Please, Jinhwan, I just…” Junhwe feels his heart clench painfully in his chest as Jinhwan just looks at him, his eyes so sad, knowing he’s the cause of it all. He wants to take away all of Jinhwan’s hurt, but he doesn’t know how.

Jinhwan closes his eyes. If Junhwe looks closely, he can see the beginnings of tears starting to leak out of the corners of Jinhwan’s eyes. If he looked in the mirror, he would probably see the same.

“This needs to end now,” Jinhwan says, a hard edge of finality surrounding a core of teary reluctance, “before either of us gets hurt more.”

The worst part is, Junhwe can completely see the logic behind this. He’s a celebrity; Jinhwan isn’t. They’re both guys. Their worlds were never meant to cross, if not for that one night. This would never - could never - end well. And there’s nothing Junhwe could ever do to fix it.

Junhwe hates it so, so much.

(People always say if you love someone, you have to let them go.)

“I love you,” Junhwe says, his voice a broken whisper. “Is… is that not enough?”

“I’m sorry,” is all Jinhwan replies.

There’s silence again. Things haven’t been this tense since they first met.

“Can I ask for one last thing?” Jinhwan’s voice is small, hesitant. He sounds scared - Junhwe wants to hold him close and never, ever let go.

“Anything.”

“Can we - can we have this one last night? Just pretend nothing happened. I… I want to leave with a good memory, at least.”

“Of course,” Junhwe says. It’s a miracle his voice doesn’t break.

Jinhwan turns to face Junhwe, kissing him softly on the lips before he buries his face in Junhwe’s chest. Junhwe tries to ignore the fact that Jinhwan’s trembling, whimpering softly, tears wet against his skin.

Jinhwan succumbs to exhaustion soon after, his body going slack in Junhwe’s arms. He feels so small, so fragile. Junhwe wants to protect him from the world, wants to whisk him away somewhere where nothing can hurt them.

Where they can be happy.

Junhwe stays awake as long as he can, wanting to capture the image of Jinhwan in his head as much as he possibly can before the imminent end. He never wants this moment to end - never wants to have to let go.

But exhaustion overcomes him, darkness washing over him as his eyes close.

(He dreams of Jinhwan, and they are happy.)

When Junhwe wakes up several hours later, the world outside still dark, the other side of the bed is empty and the sheets are cold.

He cries.

Final Chorus: I thought that our love could overcome it all, but even the strongest sometimes fall. I miss seeing you every day, my heart misses you in every way. I wanted this to last forever, but now I know the answer to that was never. But if you’re listening to this, baby, know that this song goes out to you.

It’s almost frightening how easily Junhwe slips back into his old routine.

The next day, he wakes up at noon, checks his phone (there are no messages from Jinhwan), and makes himself a bowl of ramyun.

we broke up, he texts Donghyuk, then proceeds to turn off his phone, not interesting in replying to the barrage of messages that he knows is going to come.

He feels so empty - his apartment feels too large, despite the fact that he’s always lived there alone.

He puts his bowl in the sink, then moves to lie on the sofa. His and Jinhwan’s empty drink containers and half-eaten bag of chips are still on the coffee table. The image makes a lump form in his throat, heavy and suffocating.

Junhwe doesn’t want to believe this is real, but he knows it is.

He is numb for nearly a week - time barely seems to pass, but it also passes far too quickly. He stays inside until he runs out of food, and even then he orders delivery for another two days.

Eventually, he decides that he needs to get on with his life, cleaning up the assortment of snack wrappers that have accumulated around his apartment, robotically dumping them into the trash. He does laundry next, watching the clothes spin around in the washer and dryer and wondering if this is another life metaphor, spinning around aimlessly until the machine stops and the contents fall to the bottom of the drum in an anticlimactic plop.

He can put this behind him, and he will.

(He’s still so, so very lonely at night, and his phone seldom rings anymore.)

So Junhwe copes, picking up the pieces of his life. He puts all the contents of his phone’s photo albums onto a folder on his computer, trying his best not to stop and look at any of them, knowing that once he starts, he’ll never be able to stop. All the gifts they’d exchanged go into a box in the back corner of his dresser - out of sight, out of mind.

(As much as Junhwe thinks it might be easier to throw everything away, to start anew, there’s a part of him that knows it’ll hurt more once the initial pain has faded away.)

He writes several more songs to fill the time, putting his emotions into something more constructive, sings rough versions and sends them to the label. They’re sent back with suggestions here and there, but for the most part the executives seem satisfied. Junhwe’s kind of surprised, since he hadn’t thought they were too great, but he won’t question things that make his life easier.

These are all fine, the messages say, but they’re not quite title track material.

Junhwe wracks his brains to try and think of what else he could possibly write, what else he hasn’t touched.

(He knows exactly what’s left, really, but he’s also afraid of what might happen if he goes there.)

“You look terrible,” Donghyuk says by way of greeting one afternoon as he lets himself into Junhwe’s apartment.

“So do you,” Junhwe cuts back from the couch, but his voice lacks its usual sharpness. Hell, he doesn’t even sound much like himself, his voice rough from disuse.

“Have you even left your apartment this week?” Donghyuk asks, taking in Junhwe, who’s lying on the sofa. He grimaces a bit. “You look like you haven’t seen the light of day in eons.”

Junhwe’s been trying not to look in the mirror lately - shocking, for someone who usually takes great pride in his physical appearance, but if he looks as terrible as he feels, he doesn’t really want to know.

Donghyuk takes Junhwe’s silence as his answer, sighing as he sits down at the other end of the sofa.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Donghyuk asks. “Sometimes it helps.”

Junhwe mulls this over for a bit. He’s never really extensively talked about his feelings to anyone (okay, one person, but he can’t very well talk to the source of his anguish right now), preferring to sort through his own head on his own.

But he’s changed a lot, these past months. Maybe it’s time to give something else a try.

“Everything hurts,” Junhwe says. “I… I miss him. So much.”

Donghyuk nods, doesn’t say a word. Junhwe’s half expecting him to whip out a little notebook.

“I still love him. But I don’t regret anything. I don’t want to take anything back. I just… I want him to know.”

There’s silence again as Junhwe thinks. There’s so many things he wants to say, but doesn’t think he ever can in a regular conversation. It’s kind of ridiculously cheesy, when he thinks about it, but the best way Junhwe’s been able to express his feelings before was through song.

“Actually, you know what?” Junhwe says suddenly, an epiphany washing over him. “I got this. Get out of my apartment, Donghyuk.”

His manager does, with much grumbling, but Junhwe feels so alive, suddenly. It’s weird, but he’ll roll with it.

It’s almost too easy, how quickly the words come to him, melodies looping themselves in his head. He spends the entirety of the day on it, picking out rhymes and humming to himself, trying to sum up everything he possibly can.

It’s a slow ballad, supplemented by simple instrumentals, letting just his voice and the lyrics through. It’s nothing like the slick, well-perfected songs that Junhwe’s usually used to, but it’s everything he had in him. It’s a story, vague enough that it could apply to anyone, but at its core, it’s his.

When it’s finished, after he’s sent it off, he already knows that this is the one.

And with the final approval, it begins.

The next month passes in a whirlwind of recordings and rehearsals and everything in between. Keeping busy helps to keep Junhwe’s mind off of things - there are some days where he doesn’t think about Jinhwan at all, too occupied during the day and too exhausted at night.

The night before the concert, though, panic starts to set in.

What if this all goes wrong?

What if he can’t go through with it?

Junhwe stares at his phone, flicking through his contacts until he lands on the one he’s looking for. He almost stops himself, almost shuts his phone off and pretends he never had the thought.

But he knows this will keep eating at him unless he does it, so he types up a new message.

this might sound narcissistic of me, hyung, but i’d like it if you came to my concert tomorrow. just ask for donghyuk at the door.

Junhwe sets his phone facedown on his bedside table and tries to fall asleep.

Outro:

The concert hall is silent as the final notes of the song fade away into the air. Junhwe lowers his microphone, bowing as applause starts to fill the air. He’s not crying, he tells himself, as he closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath.

He feels empty. Not in a good or bad way, just… somewhat numb, devoid of feeling.

“Thank you for coming, and please get back safely,” he remembers to say, waving one last time as the platform he’s standing on descends. He steps off when it reaches the ground, handing his microphone to a waiting staff member as another starts to dab the sweat from his face.

“That was really good,” Donghyuk says, walking up briskly to Junhwe as he returns to his dressing room to change and take off his makeup. “Junhwe, you’re topping the search rankings. I think this really is your best yet.”

Junhwe laughs humorlessly, allowing the stylists to remove his jacket before he sits down in a chair, a makeup artist wiping at his face with a cotton pad. “That’s nice.”

Donghyuk’s expression softens, picking up on Junhwe’s mood. “Other than your public image, of course, it was great. Really. I know this was hard on you, but I think… it was something you needed.”

There’s silence as the stylists exit the room, leaving just Junhwe and Donghyuk there. Junhwe bites his lip, a need to know burning at the front of his mind, but he doesn’t know how to express it.

“Did he…?” Junhwe eventually settles on, voice trailing off, knowing that Donghyuk will know what he means.

Donghyuk steps to the side wordlessly, revealing someone in the doorway that Junhwe hasn’t seen in months. Junhwe’s eyes widen, his lips parting slightly in shock.

“So this is what it’s like backstage.” The musing voice is soft, but it hits Junhwe like a train.

“I-I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Junhwe blurts, which is met by quiet laughter.

“You asked me to.”

Junhwe rises to his feet, walking closer to him. He almost doesn’t think this is real. Is post-concert high really a thing? Can it cause hallucinations?

“You can touch me, you know.” A touch of amusement, as always. It’s almost the same, only now there’s just a trace of sadness.

Junhwe reaches out hesitantly, but at the moment of contact it’s like something overcomes him, his hold tightening just like it used to. It feels like coming home.

“Jinhwan-hyung,” Junhwe breathes out, the first time he’s said the name since he’d left.

“June-yah.” Jinhwan smiles at him, reaching one arm up to pat him on the head. “You did well out there.”

“Thanks. It, um, means a lot to me.”

There’s a lot Junhwe wants to say, and a lot he can’t say. How can he tell Jinhwan that this is all because of him? How can he tell Jinhwan that he loves him still, probably always will, and wants to stay in this moment forever?

After what simultaneously somehow feels like an eternity and just a second, Jinhwan steps back, letting his arms fall to his sides. Jinhwan’s mouth opens, as if to say something, but bites it back, teeth pulling at his lower lip.

“I… I should be going now,” Jinhwan finally says. “Congratulations, Junhwe.”

He leaves with a wave and a hint of a smile, and Junhwe lets out a long sigh as he watches Jinhwan go. He feels an odd sense of content, even though there are still some lingering feelings in his heart.

Still, though, he’s grateful for everything that’s happened, and wouldn’t take any of it back for the world.

I love you, Kim Jinhwan. Thank you, for everything.

this fic was so hard to write i swear when i got the email about my recipient i freaked out bc senpai?? how to write fic?? and i was legitimately half intending to write like two other prompts before i settled on this one (and as the deadline grew nearer and i was on a 1 week extension and several 4am fic sessions i was sorely tempted to bin this and write the prompt about shoving against walls bc i actually have a wip that would fit that description... i wanted to cheat), but... dear lord. this is the longest fic i've ever written by myself (barring chaptered fics) and i just?? don't know how to feel about it anymore. but i hope it's alright HAHAHAHAHAHA I STILL CONTEND THAT THIS WAS A MESS.

many many thanks to rei and yve for putting up with my shit-screaming and turning an absolute mess into a slightly-less messy mess (and coming for my shit american english with your british-singaporean english HA). were it not for them, this fic likely would not exist.

hit me up on twitter @ loverikonic if y'all wanna be friends c: if you follow me then leave a comment/mention me on twitter! otherwise i'll assume you're lost.