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“You shouldn’t let him treat you like this.” Is what Hyojin’s sister had said to Seungjoon when she’d seen him earlier that evening on her way to collect the mail.
He knows she’s right. In his heart he knows that he deserves better than to be kept secret, stashed away in their childhood bedrooms away from the prying eyes of fans and press. He knows that he deserves better than to have to sit back and watch his best friend travel the world; hang off his group members; flirt with girls, boys, anyone that would stand still long enough. He knows he deserves better than to only hear from Hyojin when he’s back in town and wants to fuck.
He knows he deserves better than this- getting pressed into Hyojin’s too small mattress, his neck contorted at an awkward angle just so he can manage to breathe around the blanket threatening to force its way into his mouth and suffocate him. Hyojin doesn’t even allow him the dignity of looking him in the eye anymore, hasn’t in a long time.
Seungjoon knows he deserves better than the sting of Hyojin’s hand against his thigh when he hasn’t asked for it, when they haven’t discussed it. Knows that if it had been anyone else he would have pulled away and told them off for it. Knows that it’s Hyojin and that means he’ll allow it even when the slap slap slap of Hyojin’s hand, out of time with his thrusts, will make it hurt to sit down to breakfast in the morning.
It wasn’t always like this. Back before either of them had dreams of the idol life, of running off to train and debut and become stars, Hyojin was good to him. He was the best friend Seungjoon had ever known. They spent every moment they had together and even when they weren’t they managed to figure that out too; Seungjoon remembers the day Hyojin had come running up to him with two flashlights and a handwritten Morse code codex. For nighttime , he’d said, breathless. When the lights go out we can still talk to each other. Hyojin always knew how to fix things back then.
Hyojin had almost said no, when he’d gotten in and Seungjoon didn’t. He’d almost stayed back so they could finish school together and go to college and get shitty jobs and a shittier apartment. Seungjoon had almost told him to. But he hadn’t, knowing even then that a missed opportunity like that would fester and grow into something resentful and ruinous.
Hyojin had kissed him for the first time the day he left. They were tucked up in the boughs of the yuzu tree they were long since too big to climb and Hyojin had promised nothing would change, that it was still just the two of them and then Seungjoon had started to sniffle because his tears were inevitable. And Hyojin leaned in that little bit and kissed him on the mouth, soft and lingering like he thought he could take this feeling with him to the dorm he was moving into and have it keep him warm when he was lonely and alone.
Seungjoon thought about that day a lot. When he’d heard an American rhyming song in a movie he’d teared up at the memory of him and Hyojin K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Truth be told, he just thought about Hyojin a lot. He’d gotten so used to being part of a set, of being part of HyojinandSeungjoon. It would take months of unanswered messages and years of distance for Seungjoon to finally accept that he was just Seungjoon now. No qualifiers, no additions. Just Seungjoon. But the memory of being part of HyojinandSeungjoon had gotten him through all of his darkest moments.
It’s why, when he bumps into Hyojin in the grocery store one day, he accepts the offer to go out for drinks. It’s why, when they end up shoved into a too tight stall, exchanging dry, drunken handjobs, that he has to choke back a sob of relief as well as a sob of release. Because they’re finally together and it’s not how Seungjoon had thought it would go, not how he wanted it to go but they were together. Seungjoon wasn’t going to let go of Hyojin now that he’d finally gotten him.
Gotten is a strong word for what this is, Seungjoon thinks, breathing wetly against the blanket still shoved in his mouth. What’s he gotten from this setup, after all? He always ended up sore, tired, and deeply, unbelievably sad. It was the kind of sadness he couldn’t shake from his bones, not for days after. It was worse when Hyojin was home for holidays, when he had time to waste in bed, when he’d pull Seungjoon tight against his chest and make him believe it could be like it was when they were kids. When he’d hold his hand and pull him down the stairs for dinner with his parents, Seungjoon could pretend that things were different- that Hyojin cared.
All he’d ever gotten from this was heartache, he’d never gotten Hyojin. It comes to him in a moment of clarity so striking that for a second Seungjoon thinks it’s an orgasm but there’s none of the accompanying pleasure. They’ve been doing this for years and he’s only just now realizing that he doesn’t have to put up with this. He doesn’t have to answer Hyojin’s texts. He could go out with the cute barista at his favorite coffee shop that always puts little rabbits in the foam of his lattes. He could move on.
The thought makes Seungjoon’s heart lodge in his throat. He knows, he knows he deserves better than this but he can’t imagine a life without Hyojin in it even if it’s like this.
He knows he deserves better than Hyojin’s bruising grip around Seungjoon’s throat as he comes. Better than Hyojin rolling off and away without pausing to see if Seungjoon had come too. Better than the tears in his eyes.
But he knows also, he thinks, as Hyojin comes back and tucks himself in tight behind Seungjoon, that he can’t give this up. Hyojin’s lips brush the back of his neck and he knows it’s probably just an accident but Seungjoon has to choke back a sob anyway. He knows he deserves better than this, but he just doesn’t care.