go (please stay).
go (please stay).
kris/suho, minor!sehun/suho - pg-15 - angst - implied smut - 2698 words
Joonmyun wants to let go, but he can't.
The clouds are shifting again, from bright to a dark grey. It’s fickle, unsure, unwilling to stay in one place, Yifan, never fully decided on one thing, ready to start then to fall apart again, Yifan, painful, heartbreaking, inconsiderate, Yifan.
Joonmyun clenches his fist to stop himself from another onslaught of tears, another moment of weakness following the hundreds of other moments before it, another sign that he’s so so so much more fragile than how he seems to be. Still, there’s a part of him that knows the pain is tolerable only because he’s gone through it so many times, and the urge to cry is even stronger than before.
Joonmyun is steady like the waves. A little turbulent at times, sometimes a little stronger than usual, but always there. Always rising and always crashing.
Yifan is free like the wind. Fast, boundless, living without any restrictions. Freedom is the best feeling, the greatest rush of exhilaration. Never stays in one place, always transient.
He’s still lost, still waiting for the day that he won’t get his heart broken. Joonmyun wonders why he stays because leaving would be so easy. Leaving would save him from another vicious cycle that leads to nothing; nothing but hurt and regret.
But he can’t leave. He stays because he doesn’t know where he would be without Yifan. He stays because he’s scared of never being able to see him again, of losing someone who matters to him, even if he doesn’t seem to be the same for him. Fear ties him down to misery, but he doesn’t have the courage to break away even if he could.
Joonmyun is stuck.
Luhan messes up his hair affectionately. “How are you, Joonmyun?”
The younger male smiles a little. “A little buried in work, but I’m fine.”
“That’s good to hear,” Luhan mutters. His eyes dart over Joonmyun’s pale features; the dark bags underneath his eyes, the clenching and unclenching of his fists on his lap, the constant movement of his eyes, the blank look in those same orbs. Something’s wrong.
“How are you, Joonmyun?”
“Didn’t you just ask that--” Joonmyun can’t evade the way Luhan stares into his eyes as if he’s searching for his soul. He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“Fine. If you want me to be direct,” Joonmyun tries to cut him off but he raises his hand, “what’s happening to you and Yifan?”
The name makes Joonmyun flinch. He came to his apartment last night, but he wasn’t there when he woke up. It’s not new. That’s how it almost always is.
“He wasn’t there this morning, was he?” Luhan talks as if he knows everything about their relationship, but he doesn’t. He talks as if Joonmyun’s always miserable, but he isn’t. He doesn’t know that Yifan makes him happy somehow. Somehow.
“Why don’t you tell him to stop, Joonmyun? You’re always hurting because of him and it’s as if you don’t want to do anything about it. He knows how hard you’ve fallen for him, but he continues to lead you on as if he doesn’t care.”
“Stop!” Joonmyun yells in the tiny space of his apartment. He’s sick of Luhan being right, of Luhan telling him the things he doesn’t want to hear.
Whenever he looks around his living space, he sees parts of Yifan, snippets and moments when Yifan was there with him. He wants to purge himself of everything that he was, but he’s afraid that once Yifan leaves him, he’ll be nothing but a shell of the husk that he already is. He doesn’t want the emptiness. He’s had enough and he can’t take anymore.
His phone beeps, alerting him of a message. I have reservations in that Italian restaurant that you like so much. I’ll pick you up at six?
Joonmyun smiles. Before he can reply, Luhan snatches away the phone and frowns when he sees Yifan’s invitation.
“This is your chance, you know. You should end it now instead of prolonging it any further,” Luhan advises.
His words ring in Joonmyun’s ear for a long time afterwards.
He can’t bring himself to end it.
The moment he saw Yifan in his white shirt and black blazer, waiting for him inside the restaurant, everything he thought he would say vanished into the air. He thought he would end it and that he would finally be able to break away from the misery that Wu Yifan caused him.
But then Yifan smiles at him and pulls his seat out for him and talks to him about his day and somehow, every worry he has whisks away. It suddenly doesn’t matter anymore; Yifan leaves him empty when he leaves but he also feels bursting with happiness when Yifan’s there, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel that way with anyone else.
Yifan’s kisses intoxicate him, leave him breathless and wanting for more. He loses himself in Yifan’s arms, in how Yifan touches him as if they’ve never been here before and he wants to worship Joonmyun’s body. It hurts to feel good with Yifan because it never lasts and even if it’s enough for the moment, it’s not enough in the long run.
Joonmyun smiles as Jongdae slings his arm over Joonmyun’s shoulder. They’ve had a few drinks already, and by the way Jongdae’s eyeing someone from across the room, he’s pretty sure they’re going to need more before he has the courage to steal that guy’s breath away.
Jongdae and Luhan are Joonmyun’s best friends. The two other guys have louder personalities, more likely to thrive in the energy of the lights and the music and the atmosphere of the club.
He takes another shot and shivers at the buzz he gets right away. He’s never been good with holding his liquor, but he doesn’t care tonight. He wants his mind to go numb with alcohol; he wants to lose himself in the euphoria that he’s never been been able to enjoy before; he wants to let go.
Someone’s looking at him from the bar. Luhan nudges his side, mouthing “go” at him. Usually, Joonmyun would be the responsible friend, but Luhan’s being nice enough to let Joonmyun loose.
The shorter male stands up and walks up to the guy sitting at the bar. He takes the stool beside him and the stranger orders a few shots for himself.
He’s a handsome guy, blonde hair covering his forehead casually. He’s tall too, and Joonmyun freezes when he thinks he sees Yifan smirking down at him.
The stranger offers him a shot and Joonmyun pushes away the thought of Yifan for tonight. It’s Joonmyun’s night and he’s going to enjoy it without the thought of him anchoring Joonmyun down.
Joonmyun wakes up with a killer headache and this warm lump to his right. He sits up too fast, world spinning around him as he struggles to catch his breath. Everything feels horrible and he just wants to throw up. It’s been so long since he last drank this much.
He blindly reaches for his shirt and boxers on the floor. He shuts his eyes as he slips into his clothes with as minimal movement as possible. He wouldn’t want to wake up the guy beside him.
The guy beside him.
He turns to face his left, greeted by the sleeping face of the blonde guy he met last night. Sehun. he remembers.
With much hesitation, he lightly runs his fingers through his hair, smiling when the boy starts leaning up to his touch like a dog being petted. Joonmyun sits up properly, curiously scratching lightly at Sehun’s scalp to see if he would react in his sleep.
Suddenly, the boy wakes up with wide eyes and jumps off the bed. He scrambles to get his clothes, eyes completely shut while he braces himself for the headache.
Joonmyun’s starting to recover already, and he stands up shakily. “Let me get you some painkillers.”
“I-I...” Sehun checks the clock on Joonmyun’s bedside table and buries his head in his hands. “Alright. I’m late for class anyway.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Joonmyun awkwardly picks up some of Sehun’s clothes to throw it on the other side of the bed. He goes through a short mental crisis because I slept with a student!
Joonmyun stands up and walks to his bathroom. He’s sure he has a bottle of painkillers somewhere. He finds the bottle almost full, showing just how much he isn’t used to this.
When he goes back to his bedroom with the pills and a glass of water, Sehun has his phone in his hands. “Someone’s calling you. Somebody named ‘Yifan’?”
Joonmyun freezes. “Reject it please.” Before Sehun could object, he hands him the glass and presses the button himself. He doesn’t want to deal with the thought of Yifan yet.
Sehun fixes himself up and stands by the door with his coat on his arm and his loose white shirt exposing a lot of his chest. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just bites his bottom lip.
When he finally finds the courage to talk though, he presses a kiss against Joonmyun’s forehead. “I saved my number on your phone. Call me if you want to meet up or anything.”
He’s nice, Joonmyun thinks as his eyes linger on the “Oh Sehun” in his contacts list.
He makes the mistake of going to his call log and seeing Yifan’s name at the very top of the list. Suddenly, all of his emotions crash down on him, reminding him that he’ll never get rid of the thought of Yifan in his mind.
“You look thoroughly fu--”
Joonmyun cuts off whatever Luhan’s going to say. They haven’t missed their weekly Saturday lunch in three months now, and Luhan’s a person that’s just a part of his life now.
“Was he good?” Luhan smirks at the blush on Joonmyun’s face. “Was he that good?”
“Stop. Please. Just don’t. I’m begging you,” Joonmyun pleads. He doesn’t want to tell Luhan that he couldn’t get Yifan out of his mind the entire time; even with the alcohol clogging up his brain, Yifan was the one that he imagined holding him that way and kissing him like he wanted to take all of his breath away and the one who he wanted to spend that night with instead of a random stranger he met in a club. Luhan doesn’t have to know that.
“I’m just saying. You should move on, Joonmyun.” Luhan squeezes Joonmyun’s hand.
“Move on from what?”
Luhan pauses, completely still. “Are you saying you haven’t broke whatever’s going on between you and Yifan? You’re still the little toy that he twirls over and over in his hand?”
Joonmyun winces at his words. He’s never looked at himself that way because he wasn’t Yifan’s toy. Luhan just couldn’t see that.
“I am so frustrated with you! Why can’t you make a decision for yourself for once?”
Joonmyun stands up abruptly. “I am making a decision for myself. I’m not going to let go of Yifan, and I know I can’t. Stop trying to force me into making the decision that you want me to make instead of respecting what I want to do.”
He leaves Luhan in the restaurant. It hurts to hear his best friend talk to him like that. He wants to stay with Yifan.
Actually, no. He doesn’t. He doesn’t want to do it, but he has to. He’ll lose so much of himself; he’ll feel the harrowing emptiness inside of him if he doesn’t stay. He needs to stay with Yifan.
One night becomes too much and he finally has the courage to tell Yifan to leave.
He doesn’t know how he did it, but he feels liberated right after. He feels so free of the misery that Yifan tied him down to. He feels like he’s never been alive his entire life, like this is the start of a new Joonmyun.
Joonmyun wakes up late at night to his phone ringing loudly. Without checking who it is, he answers and turns on his lamp.
“Hello?” He says groggily.
“Hello? Are you Joonmyun?” It’s not a voice he recognizes. When he checks the screen of his phone, the call’s coming from...
Yifan.
“Yes, I’m Joonmyun. Why?”
“You’re friends with Yifan, right? Could you please come to his apartment? He’s been asking for you all night.”
Joonmyun narrows his eyes. “And why exactly would I do that?”
“Look, okay? Yifan took me home, and apparently he drank so much that he’s pretty much muttering your name instead of mine every few seconds. It really killed the mood. I decided to check his phone for your number and here we are now.”
Joonmyun hears a faint “Joonmyun” at the background; deep voice easily recognizable as Yifan’s. He steels himself to end the call right then and there.
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
A pretty male with a deep dimple on his right cheek opens the door for him. He looks a little irritated, and even from the doorway, Joonmyun can hear Yifan’s grumbling.
“Please take care of him,” the stranger says curtly before leaving in a rush. He seems to be upset so Joonmyun doesn’t pursue him.
Joonmyun walks carefully into the dark apartment. He can hear Yifan in the bedroom, making random sounds in his drunken haze. He’s never been able to hold his liquor well despite his manly appearance.
He opens the door and winces at the bright light. Yifan is lying down on his bed, clothes still worn, clutching a pillow to his chest. Joonmyun sits down on the bed beside him, brushing away the hair plastered on his sweat-slicked forehead.
“Joonmyun,” Yifan groans. The younger male sighs, adjusting his position so that he’s on his side and his head leans on his hand. He continues stroking Yifan’s hair, chuckling when Yifan lets out a whimper.
“Joonmyun.”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
He freezes at his words, fingers tangled in Yifan’s blonde locks. He doesn’t know how to react, what to do now that he’s hearing the words that he’s been waiting for.
“I’m sorry that I’ve made you wait so long. I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re not important to me. I’m sorry that you’ve had to hold on while I made you wait. I’m sorry that I am a complete and utter asshole and I--”
“Stop.” Yifan stays quiet, slurred words coming to an end.
Joonmyun slides down beside him, leaning his head on Yifan’s chest and allowing the long arms to hold him close. He used to not like how perfectly they fit that way because it hurt to think about fitting with Yifan in any way possible.
But now he feels it; the way Yifan holds him is different. He’s been hurt so much, so so so so much, but it doesn’t really matter now.
Joonmyun knows that there’s a chance that Yifan’s just saying this because he’s drunk and it’s only been a few days since Joonmyun called it off between them, whatever it was between them. Joonmyun knows how it feels like to be hurt, and if he’s done lying to himself already, he can admit that the few days he spent without expecting Yifan hurt so much more than what he expected.
He can’t live without Yifan. Maybe it will hurt with him there, but it’ll hurt more if he isn’t.
When Joonmyun opens his eyes, he’s surrounded by blankets and pillows and enveloped in the tightest hug that he’s ever been in. He wants to shake everything away and get some space, but he hears a familiar snore right beside his ear and he stops.
He turns his head to face Yifan and his sleeping face. He traces a finger down the slope of his nose, poking it into his cheeks. Joonmyun keeps going until Yifan gorans and pulls him even closer. The taller male rolls over until half of his body is on Joonmyun’s and he can barely breathe with Yifan’s weight on him.
He notices the change in how Yifan holds him, and he hopes.
He hopes that this will never change.
a/n: i am not even sorry
kris/suho, minor!sehun/suho - pg-15 - angst - implied smut - 2698 words
Joonmyun wants to let go, but he can't.
The clouds are shifting again, from bright to a dark grey. It’s fickle, unsure, unwilling to stay in one place, Yifan, never fully decided on one thing, ready to start then to fall apart again, Yifan, painful, heartbreaking, inconsiderate, Yifan.
Joonmyun clenches his fist to stop himself from another onslaught of tears, another moment of weakness following the hundreds of other moments before it, another sign that he’s so so so much more fragile than how he seems to be. Still, there’s a part of him that knows the pain is tolerable only because he’s gone through it so many times, and the urge to cry is even stronger than before.
Joonmyun is steady like the waves. A little turbulent at times, sometimes a little stronger than usual, but always there. Always rising and always crashing.
Yifan is free like the wind. Fast, boundless, living without any restrictions. Freedom is the best feeling, the greatest rush of exhilaration. Never stays in one place, always transient.
He’s still lost, still waiting for the day that he won’t get his heart broken. Joonmyun wonders why he stays because leaving would be so easy. Leaving would save him from another vicious cycle that leads to nothing; nothing but hurt and regret.
But he can’t leave. He stays because he doesn’t know where he would be without Yifan. He stays because he’s scared of never being able to see him again, of losing someone who matters to him, even if he doesn’t seem to be the same for him. Fear ties him down to misery, but he doesn’t have the courage to break away even if he could.
Joonmyun is stuck.
Luhan messes up his hair affectionately. “How are you, Joonmyun?”
The younger male smiles a little. “A little buried in work, but I’m fine.”
“That’s good to hear,” Luhan mutters. His eyes dart over Joonmyun’s pale features; the dark bags underneath his eyes, the clenching and unclenching of his fists on his lap, the constant movement of his eyes, the blank look in those same orbs. Something’s wrong.
“How are you, Joonmyun?”
“Didn’t you just ask that--” Joonmyun can’t evade the way Luhan stares into his eyes as if he’s searching for his soul. He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“Fine. If you want me to be direct,” Joonmyun tries to cut him off but he raises his hand, “what’s happening to you and Yifan?”
The name makes Joonmyun flinch. He came to his apartment last night, but he wasn’t there when he woke up. It’s not new. That’s how it almost always is.
“He wasn’t there this morning, was he?” Luhan talks as if he knows everything about their relationship, but he doesn’t. He talks as if Joonmyun’s always miserable, but he isn’t. He doesn’t know that Yifan makes him happy somehow. Somehow.
“Why don’t you tell him to stop, Joonmyun? You’re always hurting because of him and it’s as if you don’t want to do anything about it. He knows how hard you’ve fallen for him, but he continues to lead you on as if he doesn’t care.”
“Stop!” Joonmyun yells in the tiny space of his apartment. He’s sick of Luhan being right, of Luhan telling him the things he doesn’t want to hear.
Whenever he looks around his living space, he sees parts of Yifan, snippets and moments when Yifan was there with him. He wants to purge himself of everything that he was, but he’s afraid that once Yifan leaves him, he’ll be nothing but a shell of the husk that he already is. He doesn’t want the emptiness. He’s had enough and he can’t take anymore.
His phone beeps, alerting him of a message. I have reservations in that Italian restaurant that you like so much. I’ll pick you up at six?
Joonmyun smiles. Before he can reply, Luhan snatches away the phone and frowns when he sees Yifan’s invitation.
“This is your chance, you know. You should end it now instead of prolonging it any further,” Luhan advises.
His words ring in Joonmyun’s ear for a long time afterwards.
He can’t bring himself to end it.
The moment he saw Yifan in his white shirt and black blazer, waiting for him inside the restaurant, everything he thought he would say vanished into the air. He thought he would end it and that he would finally be able to break away from the misery that Wu Yifan caused him.
But then Yifan smiles at him and pulls his seat out for him and talks to him about his day and somehow, every worry he has whisks away. It suddenly doesn’t matter anymore; Yifan leaves him empty when he leaves but he also feels bursting with happiness when Yifan’s there, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever feel that way with anyone else.
Yifan’s kisses intoxicate him, leave him breathless and wanting for more. He loses himself in Yifan’s arms, in how Yifan touches him as if they’ve never been here before and he wants to worship Joonmyun’s body. It hurts to feel good with Yifan because it never lasts and even if it’s enough for the moment, it’s not enough in the long run.
Joonmyun smiles as Jongdae slings his arm over Joonmyun’s shoulder. They’ve had a few drinks already, and by the way Jongdae’s eyeing someone from across the room, he’s pretty sure they’re going to need more before he has the courage to steal that guy’s breath away.
Jongdae and Luhan are Joonmyun’s best friends. The two other guys have louder personalities, more likely to thrive in the energy of the lights and the music and the atmosphere of the club.
He takes another shot and shivers at the buzz he gets right away. He’s never been good with holding his liquor, but he doesn’t care tonight. He wants his mind to go numb with alcohol; he wants to lose himself in the euphoria that he’s never been been able to enjoy before; he wants to let go.
Someone’s looking at him from the bar. Luhan nudges his side, mouthing “go” at him. Usually, Joonmyun would be the responsible friend, but Luhan’s being nice enough to let Joonmyun loose.
The shorter male stands up and walks up to the guy sitting at the bar. He takes the stool beside him and the stranger orders a few shots for himself.
He’s a handsome guy, blonde hair covering his forehead casually. He’s tall too, and Joonmyun freezes when he thinks he sees Yifan smirking down at him.
The stranger offers him a shot and Joonmyun pushes away the thought of Yifan for tonight. It’s Joonmyun’s night and he’s going to enjoy it without the thought of him anchoring Joonmyun down.
Joonmyun wakes up with a killer headache and this warm lump to his right. He sits up too fast, world spinning around him as he struggles to catch his breath. Everything feels horrible and he just wants to throw up. It’s been so long since he last drank this much.
He blindly reaches for his shirt and boxers on the floor. He shuts his eyes as he slips into his clothes with as minimal movement as possible. He wouldn’t want to wake up the guy beside him.
The guy beside him.
He turns to face his left, greeted by the sleeping face of the blonde guy he met last night. Sehun. he remembers.
With much hesitation, he lightly runs his fingers through his hair, smiling when the boy starts leaning up to his touch like a dog being petted. Joonmyun sits up properly, curiously scratching lightly at Sehun’s scalp to see if he would react in his sleep.
Suddenly, the boy wakes up with wide eyes and jumps off the bed. He scrambles to get his clothes, eyes completely shut while he braces himself for the headache.
Joonmyun’s starting to recover already, and he stands up shakily. “Let me get you some painkillers.”
“I-I...” Sehun checks the clock on Joonmyun’s bedside table and buries his head in his hands. “Alright. I’m late for class anyway.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Joonmyun awkwardly picks up some of Sehun’s clothes to throw it on the other side of the bed. He goes through a short mental crisis because I slept with a student!
Joonmyun stands up and walks to his bathroom. He’s sure he has a bottle of painkillers somewhere. He finds the bottle almost full, showing just how much he isn’t used to this.
When he goes back to his bedroom with the pills and a glass of water, Sehun has his phone in his hands. “Someone’s calling you. Somebody named ‘Yifan’?”
Joonmyun freezes. “Reject it please.” Before Sehun could object, he hands him the glass and presses the button himself. He doesn’t want to deal with the thought of Yifan yet.
Sehun fixes himself up and stands by the door with his coat on his arm and his loose white shirt exposing a lot of his chest. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just bites his bottom lip.
When he finally finds the courage to talk though, he presses a kiss against Joonmyun’s forehead. “I saved my number on your phone. Call me if you want to meet up or anything.”
He’s nice, Joonmyun thinks as his eyes linger on the “Oh Sehun” in his contacts list.
He makes the mistake of going to his call log and seeing Yifan’s name at the very top of the list. Suddenly, all of his emotions crash down on him, reminding him that he’ll never get rid of the thought of Yifan in his mind.
“You look thoroughly fu--”
Joonmyun cuts off whatever Luhan’s going to say. They haven’t missed their weekly Saturday lunch in three months now, and Luhan’s a person that’s just a part of his life now.
“Was he good?” Luhan smirks at the blush on Joonmyun’s face. “Was he that good?”
“Stop. Please. Just don’t. I’m begging you,” Joonmyun pleads. He doesn’t want to tell Luhan that he couldn’t get Yifan out of his mind the entire time; even with the alcohol clogging up his brain, Yifan was the one that he imagined holding him that way and kissing him like he wanted to take all of his breath away and the one who he wanted to spend that night with instead of a random stranger he met in a club. Luhan doesn’t have to know that.
“I’m just saying. You should move on, Joonmyun.” Luhan squeezes Joonmyun’s hand.
“Move on from what?”
Luhan pauses, completely still. “Are you saying you haven’t broke whatever’s going on between you and Yifan? You’re still the little toy that he twirls over and over in his hand?”
Joonmyun winces at his words. He’s never looked at himself that way because he wasn’t Yifan’s toy. Luhan just couldn’t see that.
“I am so frustrated with you! Why can’t you make a decision for yourself for once?”
Joonmyun stands up abruptly. “I am making a decision for myself. I’m not going to let go of Yifan, and I know I can’t. Stop trying to force me into making the decision that you want me to make instead of respecting what I want to do.”
He leaves Luhan in the restaurant. It hurts to hear his best friend talk to him like that. He wants to stay with Yifan.
Actually, no. He doesn’t. He doesn’t want to do it, but he has to. He’ll lose so much of himself; he’ll feel the harrowing emptiness inside of him if he doesn’t stay. He needs to stay with Yifan.
One night becomes too much and he finally has the courage to tell Yifan to leave.
He doesn’t know how he did it, but he feels liberated right after. He feels so free of the misery that Yifan tied him down to. He feels like he’s never been alive his entire life, like this is the start of a new Joonmyun.
Joonmyun wakes up late at night to his phone ringing loudly. Without checking who it is, he answers and turns on his lamp.
“Hello?” He says groggily.
“Hello? Are you Joonmyun?” It’s not a voice he recognizes. When he checks the screen of his phone, the call’s coming from...
Yifan.
“Yes, I’m Joonmyun. Why?”
“You’re friends with Yifan, right? Could you please come to his apartment? He’s been asking for you all night.”
Joonmyun narrows his eyes. “And why exactly would I do that?”
“Look, okay? Yifan took me home, and apparently he drank so much that he’s pretty much muttering your name instead of mine every few seconds. It really killed the mood. I decided to check his phone for your number and here we are now.”
Joonmyun hears a faint “Joonmyun” at the background; deep voice easily recognizable as Yifan’s. He steels himself to end the call right then and there.
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
A pretty male with a deep dimple on his right cheek opens the door for him. He looks a little irritated, and even from the doorway, Joonmyun can hear Yifan’s grumbling.
“Please take care of him,” the stranger says curtly before leaving in a rush. He seems to be upset so Joonmyun doesn’t pursue him.
Joonmyun walks carefully into the dark apartment. He can hear Yifan in the bedroom, making random sounds in his drunken haze. He’s never been able to hold his liquor well despite his manly appearance.
He opens the door and winces at the bright light. Yifan is lying down on his bed, clothes still worn, clutching a pillow to his chest. Joonmyun sits down on the bed beside him, brushing away the hair plastered on his sweat-slicked forehead.
“Joonmyun,” Yifan groans. The younger male sighs, adjusting his position so that he’s on his side and his head leans on his hand. He continues stroking Yifan’s hair, chuckling when Yifan lets out a whimper.
“Joonmyun.”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
He freezes at his words, fingers tangled in Yifan’s blonde locks. He doesn’t know how to react, what to do now that he’s hearing the words that he’s been waiting for.
“I’m sorry that I’ve made you wait so long. I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re not important to me. I’m sorry that you’ve had to hold on while I made you wait. I’m sorry that I am a complete and utter asshole and I--”
“Stop.” Yifan stays quiet, slurred words coming to an end.
Joonmyun slides down beside him, leaning his head on Yifan’s chest and allowing the long arms to hold him close. He used to not like how perfectly they fit that way because it hurt to think about fitting with Yifan in any way possible.
But now he feels it; the way Yifan holds him is different. He’s been hurt so much, so so so so much, but it doesn’t really matter now.
Joonmyun knows that there’s a chance that Yifan’s just saying this because he’s drunk and it’s only been a few days since Joonmyun called it off between them, whatever it was between them. Joonmyun knows how it feels like to be hurt, and if he’s done lying to himself already, he can admit that the few days he spent without expecting Yifan hurt so much more than what he expected.
He can’t live without Yifan. Maybe it will hurt with him there, but it’ll hurt more if he isn’t.
When Joonmyun opens his eyes, he’s surrounded by blankets and pillows and enveloped in the tightest hug that he’s ever been in. He wants to shake everything away and get some space, but he hears a familiar snore right beside his ear and he stops.
He turns his head to face Yifan and his sleeping face. He traces a finger down the slope of his nose, poking it into his cheeks. Joonmyun keeps going until Yifan gorans and pulls him even closer. The taller male rolls over until half of his body is on Joonmyun’s and he can barely breathe with Yifan’s weight on him.
He notices the change in how Yifan holds him, and he hopes.
He hopes that this will never change.
a/n: i am not even sorry