Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The train is moving fast. Barely anything can be seen through the windows on the doors, the darkness so thick that not even the lights inside the carriage manage to cast it away. Jisung has his earphones in his ears, and ‘Heat Waves’ is drowning the train’s noise with its loud pounding. 

He thumbs at his index finger inside the pocket of his jacket while his eyes slowly move through the lines of the poems he’s been reading, squinting when the broken screen seems to change the order of letters in certain words. He’s never really been the type to read, but it’s something he’s found himself doing more often; he googles poems, hoping to find something inspiring or relatable, and he reads old Creepypasta, just little horror stories people used to share around the internet back in the day.

When the train starts slowing down, Jisung looks up to the doors and waits. The lights in the Times Square - 42nd Street subway station rush through the carriage and Jisung takes a deep breath. When the train stops, the ‘Do not hold doors’ sticker disappears as the doors slide open, and Jisung steps out, glancing around and then walking forward as to not get in the way of those trying to get in. 

He climbs the stairs, occasionally eyeing his phone to keep reading the poem, and then passes the ticket barrier. It doesn’t take long before he’s climbing up the stairs that bring him outside, and he’s welcomed by a rather warm sunset that is beaming its last rays through the street.

Jisung locks his phone and pockets it, giving a little run to cross the road and then following the sidewalk by the many available stores. The city is most likely noisy, it always is, but Jisung can’t really hear the noise all that much. He keeps walking until the big screens come into view. Jisung keeps his eyes up, then, as ad after ad changes like the city is a big Christmas tree and this is just a lights spectacle. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s near Times Square, the ads now mixing the live posters for movies that have yet to come out.  He has to squeeze through a big crowd of tourists, wincing a little when someone elbows him in the chest. But, once he’s through, he stops, looking up to see the big purple screen with Swarosvski’s logo, the placard next to it a picture of Hyunjin showcasing crystal earrings. It’s a pretty picture, for sure, and definitely not something men in NYC usually get up to, but… It’s shiny.

Jisung looks down, then, and bites his lower lip, frowning when some stupid emotion nearly gets him. Yes, Jisung made it all on his own. But so did Hyunjin. Last time they spoke, it was ‘just catalogue’. But now here he is, promoting a fucking crystal company — Not that type of crystal, fortunately.

It’s been almost two months since they last saw each other. It’s been almost two months since they last spoke to one another. Jisung said he needed time to think. But he didn’t consider that postponing something like that would only make him more uncertain of everything. Still, he’s had plenty of opportunities to think about it, to think about him, to think of them. And… it’s better now, isn’t it? Somewhat.

Looking back, Jisung realizes that he’s never been the type to think ahead. He’s always just been living in the moment. And yes, that might have something to do with his anxiety and the fact that he needs at least three days to spiral before he goes to the bank to talk about something as simple as ‘I lost my card, I need to cancel it’, and therefore Mrs. Han always ends up doing that for him because who the fuck waits three days to cancel a card?

But back to the point… What’s with not being able to see the perfect future when everything seems so perfect in the present, too?

Not even once did Jisung envision himself a couple of years older, getting up to the sunrise hitting on the window of his New York apartment, and turning around to the side to kiss the naked back of his beautiful boyfriend. Not even once did Jisung think he’d get to date Hyunjin. Jisung literally just went with the flow of what they both wanted in the moment, because he knew that getting lost in the fantasy of maybes would come back to bite him in the ass. He knew Hyunjin was a junkie. He knew he was a beautiful, attractive chaos of molecules being pulled apart and explosions being clamped together. Why would Jisung let himself fall into the black hole? He might be a little stupid but he’s got self-worth. So, yes, he passed by, he suffered the consequences of being too near the event horizon. And, in the end, he glimpsed upon the singularity and then had an awful trip back.

But here’s the catch; his acceptance of Hyunjin as a whole also made him complacent. 

Jisung looked at Hyunjin and fell in love with every little thing about him. To the point that he wasn’t helping him, because he was just enabling him. Jisung wasn’t able to find the balance between loving but still wanting Hyunjin to be better, to be healthy. And he wasn’t the only one… So many people dangle on this thread. Sometimes blindfolded, sometimes with their eyes wide open but mid an iron-strong high of denial about it. And that’s just… not fair, or healthy. And this mindset of ‘you should love me as I am or go’ can be quite poisonous if taken too far. Because it can become a way for people to excuse their actions without taking responsibility for them.

Jisung never imagined a future for him and Hyunjin because he couldn’t see one. Because he accepted that it would never work and became complacent about the fact that Hyunjin would never change. And that? Fuck. That’s fucking awful. Because Jisung knows Hyunjin deserves whatever he wants in the world. He is a really good person with dreams and aspirations. And… And Jisung loves him so much, still. So much that if he could he would just give him everything he wants and deserves.

Except he didn’t think to give him a future. And that’s just so cruel. He literally decided against himself that Hyunjin didn’t have the power to change, to be a better version of himself. Jisung stole that from him without realizing it, just like all those people did every time they took advantage of Hyunjin’s high, or filmed him, or shared his videos and pictures, or assumed whatever because they’d seen those videos and pictures. 

Now, Jisung is starting to think about what could have been. And that is breaking his heart a little too much. Because Jisung really wishes he could have hugged Hyunjin before he booked himself into rehab. He wishes he could have said ‘good luck’, or visited once or twice. He wishes he could have hugged him when he came out and he wishes he could have driven him around. Hell, they could have looked at apartments together. And maybe they would have fought a lot, but they would have also kissed a lot, and giggled a lot, and…

And shit, that hurts. All the things they missed out on, just because they’re stupidly human.

So here is Jisung, trying to be brave. Hoping that he didn’t ruin it with all this waiting, but mostly just wishing that, no matter what, Hyunjin is working towards something happy. He deserves that. More than anyone else in the world, in Jisung’s book, Hyunjin deserves that.

Jisung pulls his phone out of his jacket’s pocket and unlocks it. He goes to his contacts and stares at Hyunjin’s name, ‘Stupid Soulmate’, smiling small and letting his thumb slide on the screen before he brings up the phone, close to his mouth, just in time to hear the music stop and the city noise come alive. He looks up while it rings, eyes catching on Hyunjin’s profile. His hair is black now. Still longish, but black. It suits him. In fact, Jisung thinks he might like the black hair a bit more than the blonde. 

His heart jumps when the call connects, and he immediately looks away and steers away from the road, already stressing because now he has nowhere to hide. “He—Hello?” he stutters, glancing around at the people passing him by like they’re carrying something contagious.

“Jisungie..?” he hears, followed by a soft huff. “I mean, hello.”

“Hey…? Uhm… Are you, I mean, you busy?”

“In general, yes? I can make myself… not busy, though, if you want.”

“I was just wondering if… If you wanted to meet up tonight…? For a drink or… Something. Whatever it is people do at night when they hang out…”

Hyunjin giggles softly, and Jisung smiles awkwardly in reply, although Hyunjin can’t really see it. “A drink sounds great, actually…”

“Starbucks…? My treat.”

“Okay~ I hope you plan on telling me which Starbucks, though,” Hyunjin teases. “This is New York, there’s like a billion of them.”

“I’m in Times Square right now, so…” Jisung sighs softly and looks around. “I think there’s one nearby…? Further up 7th Avenue…?”

“Ah! Yeah, I go there a lot, nice.”

“Of course you do,” Jisung mumbles. “I’ll… be there, then.”

“Be there soon,” Hyunjin chirps. “And, uhm, thanks? For inviting me, I mean…”

Jisung sighs and nods even though it’s pointless. “Thank you for waiting…?”

“Yes, well, same,” Hyunjin huffs. “Bye-bye~”

“B—Bye!” Jisung rushes to say before Hyunjin hangs up. Jisung lowers his phone and blinks at it, confused at how civil that conversation was. He can’t help the little tug at the corner of his lips when he shakes his head as he puts his phone away. He always sort of expects things to escalate when there’s no point to it. Sometimes, life is just that boring slice of life anime everyone holds dear to their heart.

Jisung sits alone in that Starbucks, collecting coffee cups in front of him until his hands start shaking from the obnoxious amount of caffeine he’s absorbed. He checks the time one more time and then sighs when he realises two hours seem to have passed, letting himself melt onto the table and muffling a small whine into his arms.

Here he is, in new clothes and the one expensive jacket he owns ( yeah, that one ) waiting for someone who might as well just be ghosting the shit out of him as punishment. Would Hyunjin even do something like that? Jisung doesn’t put it past him, he can be quite petty sometimes, the little shit. In fact, he’d be quite pleased if he knew the stress he’s putting Jisung through, wouldn’t he? Yeah, he would.

Jisung lifts his head and tries to distract himself with the passers by. Somehow, he finds himself reminiscing, thinking about all those times he had to walk through the streets of Brooklyn at night or at sunset, back when he worked at the gas station. The early morning walks were like some sort of walk of shame, or whatever, but the ones he took at the end of the day…? He misses those. He misses the way the nights smelled, the way the sky looked. He remembers smiling up on occasion, at the little star that managed to break through the light pollution and actually happened to be a planet, not a star. Venus, right? The Morning Star. The Evening Star. It shines so brightly that it is the first ‘star’ to appear in the sky after the sun sets, or the last to disappear before the sun rises. 

“Late nights in the middle of June,” Jisung hums to himself. He’s so busy contemplating the outside world through the big windows that he doesn’t even spot Hyunjin walking in. He only sees him when he casually looks over to a table nearby and happens to spot someone who looks a lot like Hyunjin scanning the coffee shop. Jisung’s heart nearly drops to hell right there and then, even as he slowly lifts his hand, eyes big. ‘Hi’, he mouths when Hyunjin appears to notice him, a smile spreading across his face.

Jisung looks down at his many empty cups of coffee and then pushes them all aside. He’s freaking out a little so he stands up the moment Hyunjin drags the chair to sit down. He blinks at Jisung, clearly not having expected that and now unsure of whether to sit down or not, and Jisung blushes a little.

“What do you… wanna drink?” he asks.

Slowly, Hyunjin lowers himself to sit, watching Jisung in amusement. “A Peppermint Mocha, please.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jisung huffs, hesitating before leaning over the table to hug all the coffee cups and then just… stand there, blinking at Hyunjin before his brain reminds him to just fucking go. “Right…” 

He takes the empty cups to their respective trash and then gets in line to get Hyunjin his drink. Jisung kinda forgets what Hyunjin asked for, and only remembers when he freaks out in front of the barista and has to look up to read through their new Christamas hot drinks. Peppermint Mocha, whatever the fuck that is…

Once he has Hyunjin’s drink, Jisung returns to the table and places the warm cup down before sliding to his chair and sort of crossing his arms as lazily as possible, not wanting to look too unapproachable. 

“So, uhm,” he starts almost immediately, Hyunjin pausing mid reaching for the cup. He looks sort of adorable, hair tied back, white boy-next-door jacket on, cute little bag still hanging off his shoulder, no makeup whatsoever, perfect skin— Okay, that’s enough. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go straight to the subject, if that’s okay with you…”

Hyunjin smiles something small and nervous, nodding as he takes the cup and pulls it closer to himself. “Go ahead…”

Jisung opens his mouth and frowns when he realises he’s not saying anything, so he closes his mouth again. Quietly, eyes stuck on Jisung, Hyunjin slurps at his mocha. What was it I wanted to talk about again…?  

“Are you… I mean—” No. Not that. “Do you still…” Want… No, not want. Fuck. “Do you still… miss… uh, me…?” Jisung’s entire face flushes red the moment the words are out, so he looks down to the table. “Last time… Last time we spoke, you said that you missed me,” he mumbles. “And I said that… I don’t know. It caught me off guard. I really… didn’t expect to see you again, not so soon, at least… So… I freaked out, kinda… I guess… I’m sorry.”

“I suppose it was only fair of you to make me miss you even more.”

Jisung glances up at that, only to see Hyunjin smiling at him so fondly it nearly makes him tear up. He looks warmer, doesn’t he…? His eyes don’t have that cold shimmer anymore.

“Which, I… do. Miss you, I mean,” Hyunjin says, bottom lip full in a pout. “A lot...”

“So… you’re not…” Jisung swallows, crossing his legs by the ankle and pushing his feet under his chair. “You’re not seeing anyone right now…?”

Hyunjin laughs. “What? No, of course not.”

Jisung points awkwardly out the window but withdraws his hand when he realises it’s shaking with excess caffeine. “I see your face out there, like, at least once a week when I pass the billboard screens. I’m sure they’re lining up to meet you.”

“Kind of..?” Hyunjin laughs softly. “Not like that, though… It’s public knowledge that I have, well, a soulmate…” Hyunjin frowns, absentmindedly stirring at his mocha. “Well, everyone does, but you know what I mean...”

Jisung nods and looks down. “Are you still… clean…?”

“Five months,” Hyunjin mumbles.

Jisung nods again, biting at his lower lip to struggle with a piece of dry skin. “I…” He takes a deep breath and lets it go to look up. “I fucked up big time for a while there,” he admits, smiling small, almost in pity for himself. “After you were gone… It got bad. Like, really bad…?” He laughs small, even as Hyunjin watches him with the utmost concern. “I think that’s why I… got so defensive when you showed up…? I think that a small part of me still… blamed you for that. For leaving.” Jisung frowns. “It wasn’t your fault, though. Not really. If anything… It was my fault.”

“Jisung...” Hyunjin sighs.

“No just…” Jisung licks his lips. “Lemme just say this and then you can… say whatever you want.” At that, Hyunjin sighs again but nods. “I’m… really, really sorry…?” Jisung says, hoping that he’s voice sounds right. “For some of the things I said, but mostly for… all the things I didn’t say, all the things I didn’t ask just because I was so scared I sort of just… decided on my own that they weren’t worth asking. And I’m sorry for… subconsciously blaming you for my own downfall when that was just me being a self-destructive little bitch.”

“I still shouldn’t have just left like that,” Hyunjin sort of mumbles. 

“I should have asked you, properly, if you wanted to be my boyfriend. I should have told you ‘I love you’ more often. And I shouldn’t have been so scared just because I assumed you didn’t care. Because I knew you did. I knew it, I was just…” Jisung looks down and scoffs something bitter. “I thought I was better than the others, you know…? But I wasn’t. I couldn’t really imagine a future for us, even if a gloomy one, because I couldn’t see past my own bullshit. I was so unfair to you. And I’m really sorry… I’m sorry it took me so long to stop being angry for no reason. And I’m sorry I closed myself off to you when I should have done the opposite.”

“We have that in common, then,” Hyunjin says, and Jisung glances up to see a hand on the table, reaching over in a way that beckons, somehow. “I kept so much from you, lied to you, used you, told you half-truths and…” Hyunjin pouts. “It’s okay, all of it, really, it is…”

Jisung swallows small, eyes on Hyunjin’s fingers. “I don’t… think I can do that ever again…? The uncertainty…”

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin sort-of-whispers.

“It takes two to tango,” Jisung huffs, and it makes Hyunjin laugh softly, too, as he slowly withdraws his hand back to his drink. “Is there… something you wanna say to me?”

“A lot,” he smiles, eyes full of something . “I…” he blinks quickly, sniffing small as he sits back and reaches into his— Hyunjin, is that a purse? God, it is, isn’t it? Whatever it is, Hyunjin brings out a book. It’s a notebook. The cover is a bunch of different pictures, printed out and pasted like a collage of things Jisung knows that Hyunjin likes; his dog, ferrets, snow, the colour yellow, a ferris wheel, and one of the three pictures Jisung ever put on Instagram. It says ‘property of Hyunjin ‘Sam’ Hwang’. “I wrote it all in here…”

Jisung blinks and then frowns, heart suddenly hammering inside his chest. He reaches for the notebook but doesn’t pull it closer, just watches his and Hyunjin’s hands, each on opposite ends of the book. It’s only when Hyunjin looks up, eyes all big and vulnerable, that he lets go of the notebook.

“It’s a lot,” Hyunjin laughs softly, looking nervous and embarrassed. “But I think you should know everything? I didn’t write any of it with the idea of ever giving it to you, but I think that makes it even better, because it’s more… It’s just me,” he smiles, taking a breath and huffing it out, waving a hand. “Not now, though, please. Take it with you.”

Jisung slowly pulls the notebook closer to his side of the table with a small nod. He pulls at the cover with a single finger just so he can take a peek inside, and sees a small paper hospital bracelet pasted on the first page. Samuel Hwang. Patient 0404. Drug addict. After it, a title: For Stray Thoughts and Things I Don’t Want To Forget. Jisung immediately pulls his finger away, the cover dropping over the page.

“The most important thing, though,” Hyunjin mumbles. “Is that I love you... A lot…”

Jisung’s heart does something inside his chest. It’s been a while since he’s heard those words in Hyunjin’s voice. All he had for weeks, months, was that stupid little text saying ‘I’m sorry, I love you’. Now, he has Hyunjin himself, again, sort of…

“Still…?” Jisung asks, the tightness in his chest bubbling softly. He’s trying his best not to cry right now, even though his eyes are definitely starting to shift in the low light with the tears he’s trying to blink away.

“Always…”

Jisung’s lips tip down slightly against his will and his pout juts out. He frowns and blinks, trying to keep the tears at bay, but that also means having to stay quiet, because he’ll definitely cry the moment he opens his mouth. I miss you too, he thinks, though, which makes it even more difficult to keep the tears away.

“If you don’t take my hand this time, I’m climbing over this table and strangling you to death.”

Jisung lets go of a small laugh and then looks lowers his head a little, sniffling when he starts crying anyway, and blindly reaching over to find Hyunjin’s hand that finds his first. “I don’t… I don’t wanna say goodbye again…” he sort of says, voice wet.

“I left so I could come back, you know? So my promises to you would mean something,” Hyunjin says, squeezing softly at Jisung’s hand. “So please believe me when I say I will never leave again…”

“Okay,” Jisung says softly, sniffling and blinking as he watches tears fall on the wooden table. Trust is a very difficult thing to achieve, especially when there are so many reasons to keep away from it. And sure, Jisung knows his two lonely brain cells are always ready to tell him all the reasons why he should trust no one. But what does it matter? He still fell from quite high up without trust. And he can’t do this again without it. “Okay,” he repeats, moving his thumb over the back of Hyunjin’s hand. It’s softer than what I remember...

Hyunjin laughs, and it sounds wet so Jisung knows Hyunjin is crying, too. “I… don’t even know what to say, I’m so happy…”

Jisung reaches up to rub at his nose with the back of his free hand and then cleans the tears off his cheeks before glancing up. “Hope you weren’t up to anything important before I called you…”

“Wouldn’t matter if I was,” Hyunjin giggles, smiling so brightly with watery eyes that it barely makes any sense. 

“Ah,” Jisung sighs out loud. “This black hair of yours is going to be the end of me…” he admits.

“You like it?”

Jisung smiles small. “It might be my favourite…”

“Is that why you go stare at my billboard every day?” Hyunjin teases.

“Every week, ” Jisung corrects, blushing and looking away with a sniffle. 

“I can’t believe I have a billboard ,” Hyunjin laughs softly, shaking his head and wiping at his eyes with his free hand, squeezing at Jisung’s hand with the other like he’s worried Jisung will let go any second.

“I can,” Jisung says, peeking over. Hyunjin peeks over, too, smiling bashfully. “Wanna get out of here?” Jisung asks, then.

“Gosh, you’re forward,” Hyunjin teases, wiggling their hands.

“For a walk,” Jisung says pointedly as he stands up without letting go of Hyunjin’s hand, pulling the notebook closer and then holding it under his arm. “For a night walk. Bring your toothpaste coffee.”

“Oh, Jesus , you’re one of those people,” Hyunjin groans, hiking his purse-bag-whatever up his shoulder to stand up.

Jisung laughs softly. “I’m not. I actually like toothpaste chocolate. I used to eat toothpaste when I was a kid.”

“And it ruined your entire palette, obviously,” Hyunjin says, slurping at the drink with their hands still firmly clasped together. Jisung worries, for a moment, that Hyunjin will let go, but all he does is shift his hold so he can entwine their fingers and hold hands more comfortably. “Tastes like Christmas, not toothpaste.”

“Isn’t mint supposed to be a summer flavour?” Jisung asks with a frown as he guides Hyunjin in-between the tables and then out of the coffee shop. “I mean, it’s fresh as fuck.”

The look Hyunjin gives him… Ouch . “I swear, we part for a few months and you lose your entire mind. This is why I can never leave you again; you’ll show up at my door claiming lemonade is a winter beverage.”

Jisung laughs. “That makes no sense.”

“ Isn’t mint supposed to be a summer flavour? ”

“Because it’s fresh!” Jisung exclaims.

“So is, like, freshly washed linen , you don’t eat it.”

Jisung gapes. “Linen is a textile…”

“This conversation went downhill so fast,” Hyunjin laughs, straw to his lips as he looks away with a shake of his head. 

“Is that what they’ve been feeding you in your model career?”

“They don’t feed me shit in my model career, Jisung,” Hyunjin laughs. “Like, maybe a leaf , if it’s been a long day.”

“Gourmet.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, but it’s impossible to miss the bright smile on his face. “Nice jacket, by the way…”

“Yeah…?” Jisung questions as he glances down at his clothes. “Thanks. Sugar daddy got it for me.”

Hyunjin slurps loudly at his drink. When he’s done, he says, plainly; “Shut the fuck up.” Which makes Jisung actually laugh out loud.

Jisung gets home quite late into the night. He and Hyunjin spent hours walking around and sitting at random bars just trying to make more time to talk about everything and nothing at all, and then Hyunjin called it a day when he checked his phone and realised it was almost four in the morning. 

Mrs. Han is asleep in her bed, and Jisung peeks into her room just to check on her before slowly closing the door and making it to his bedroom. He’s not exactly sleepy. He had too much coffee and the caffeine is still bouncing around in his system. So, he slowly takes off his jacket and shoes as he makes his way to his desk, and then places down the notebook, taking a seat and turning on the small lamp over the table so he can read what Hyunjin wrote.

Page after page, in slight variations that speak of patience, pens and pains, are notes in Hyunjin’s handwriting. Jisung skims his eyes over the first few lines and then looks up to take a breath, before finally leaning over the table, as if he’s planning on shielding the notebook from the rest of the world with every inch of his body.

‘The first time I felt what drugs could do,’ he reads, ‘I had been admitted to the hospital with four broken ribs, after my father pushed me down a flight of stairs. They said it was an accident. It wasn’t. It pissed me off that they couldn’t tell, you know? That my father was standing there, lying through his teeth about the pain he inflicted on me, and they couldn’t tell. My mother said nothing, because she never did and she never has. It’s so incredibly lonely to not be able to trust your parents… I’ve never heard anyone mention how lonely it feels. And I was just so sad. So genuinely sad that whatever they gave me for the pain, opioids or morphine or whatever, it just… lifted me out of it entirely. It’s shit to blame addiction on people, and things, but the truth is usually a little shit.

I used to be a dancer. It’s not something I think about often anymore, because the thought makes me sad, but I used to dance, and I used to love it. I did ballet as a child, when it was still acceptable, and as I got older I got into all styles of dancing, none of which my father approved of. So, I got scared, and I stopped. The same way I stopped bringing friends over to the house, and the same way I stopped believing that soulmates were good. My father is my mother’s soulmate, and she loves him. She stands by him no matter what, when she really shouldn’t. They’re bad for each other, so I worried that my soulmate would be bad for me, too. I guess I did a wonderful job beating him to the chase.’

Jisung looks up. Somehow, he’s picturing Hyunjin’s face. That look, Jisung knows it, even though he doesn’t recall ever taking note of it before. But it’s that look. Those brown eyes, probing into Jisung’s soul, desperately wanting to see what’s going on in there. Jisung never let himself show in the way Hyunjin most likely needed him to. And in return, Jisung never got to see what was underneath Hyunjin’s skin.

‘Today was really hard. But it’s okay. I’ll be better and I’ll try harder. Right, Jisungie?’, Jisung reads. 

And then turns the page. 

‘I think I knew he was my soulmate the first time I met him. I really don’t remember much of that night except for the black and green of that BP shirt and how pretty and cute I thought he was, but I remember feeling… safe. Yeah, I think the word I’m looking for is safe. He was a stranger, but I felt safe about him, like… Like if I let him touch me, he would never hurt me. And I was right.

Three weeks clean. Fuck. Everything fucking hurts and I miss him.’

“Little did you know,” Jisung mutters, letting his eyes wander over a few phrases that he skips.

‘I should have said goodbye properly. I don’t know how I’m ever going to make up for just leaving with some stupid, vague message about how I love him and I’m sorry. I’m an idiot and I should have said goodbye properly. The more I think about going back and knowing that I hurt him, even a little bit, breaks my heart. And fuck, I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. I don’t ever, ever want him to feel like something he does makes me spiral. 

I remember going home after our first proper day together, with a hickey on my neck, and my father seeing it. He snapped, because he knew it was from a man. I don’t think I talked to Jisung for a while after that. Not because I was mad at him, I just… God, I just didn’t want him to feel responsible for it. The same way I hope to everything he doesn’t think our argument made me spiral into overdose. 

I just want to be better. I want to be good for him. I’m too heavy right now, and if I fall… He’ll try to catch me. I can’t do that to him.’

Honestly, Hyunjin’s compassion burns stronger than any pain that has ever managed to corrode Jisung’s heart. He’s a bit naive but in the best of ways. And Jisung is really starting to think that he wants to be like him. In the sense of… being able to think beyond himself when things are happening.

‘ The more I think about it, the more I think that Jisung doesn’t know how much I love him. How terrible is that? How could I have had him in my grasp for so long, and left him wondering even for a second, that I loved him more than has ever been sane or reasonable?’

Jisung looks up and blinks a burn away. Oh, shut the fuck up… He sighs and closes the notebook, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. Just shut the fuck up… Because, looking back, it was obvious, right there in plain sight. Maybe not for a frightened stupid guy working late hours at a nearby gas station, but it was there anyway.

With a breath, Jisung glances down to see the sky change colours. Morning. It’s been a while, hasn’t it…? Since I’ve seen a sunrise. He gets up, grabs the notebook and walks back downstairs. He makes himself a toasted sandwich, lets the whole grain bread become golden brown, the aroma making its way through the house and attracting the likes of Mrs. Han, who immediately tries to steal Jisung’s toast. He manages to get away from her, but ends up having to eat outside, butt sat on the step of their front door. And damn, do toasts feel good in the cold weather. In the summertime, cold sandwiches are the best. But once the cold comes, it’s all about the toasties. Butter-side out and into the hot press to come out steaming and pretty.

When he’s done eating he wipes his hands on the sides of his jeans and takes a breath. There are birds trilling on the nearby tree and he stares at the brown leaves to watch the birds jump from branch to branch. 

It’s been a while since Jisung’s brain has slowed down, in that way it’s always done when it wants to escape an anxiety rush. But looking at those birds… 

Jisung takes a deep breath as the breeze flows by. Fall winds seem to have a way of moving his hair, tousling softly with a fragrance of their own. Jisung lets the feeling take him for a moment. Eyes closing just for a second or two before something sparks in his chest. It’s not a slow moment, but… it’s a moment.

When he opens his eyes again, he looks at the notebook. He opens it, and sniffles the cold away as he curls a little into himself so he can keep reading.

‘I don’t think I can do this.

My therapist tells me that I can. That I need to do this for myself. I don’t want to do it for myself. There’s far too many times when I hate myself. So maybe… Maybe I won’t tell my therapist, and I won’t tell him either, but I’ll do it for him.

Hah, we’re not allowed to do that, are we? Not if you’re ‘woke’ or ‘smart’, you’re not supposed to dedicate anything to anyone else, because we’re all supposed to be so fucking independent. Well, fuck that. They keep telling me to fight for myself or to find God and have faith. I don’t believe in God, or myself, but I believe in him. I hope he believes in me, too.’

Jisung feels his eyes burn a little, but he blinks the feeling away and turns the page. It’s full of pictures. All of them of Hyunjin’s dog. There’s also another, smaller dog that Jisung doesn’t recognise, with the caption ‘little star’. Hyunjin is holding it, smiling widely, and he looks much, much younger, hair short and black. He looks adorable.

Turning the page, though, Jisung finds more thoughts.

‘My parents called and asked if they could come visit. They probably just wanna make themselves look like good parents. I told them to fuck off. It feels great.’

That makes Jisung laugh.

‘Is it weird that I don’t want to look different? My therapist asked if I wanted to go dye my hair because sometimes, change is good and if I look different, I’ll feel different and want to change and blah blah blah. But… Jisungie doesn't know what I look like with black hair, or brown hair or red hair or short hair. What an odd fucking thing to cling to…’

When Hyunjin came to the bar, his hair was still blonde, the way Jisung remembered it. Is this why? Did he really not change his hair before he got to see Jisung again because of this…?

Falling leaves come in a sudden whirlwind that spins close to Jisung’s feet and then speeds down the street. Jisung follows it with his eyes, smiling small when the children walking out of their houses, bikes in hand, scream and giggle as the whirlwind spins around them. 

More leaves fall, then. Jisung can’t help but think they look like sails without boats. They’re pretty and of all the colours of Fall. So, when one of them lands near his feet, all star shaped and orange, he picks it up and places it over the page he’s on, before turning to the next one.

‘I still haven’t been able to figure out how many times I was raped in the span of three years. I don’t think I really want to know. But I can’t help but wonder if some of it, if most of it, was my fault…? Shit. My therapist is going to hate this...’

Jisung can feel the fear inside his chest, waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect him but… it’s not like he is in danger. Honestly, it just feels like it always does; an angry ball propelling Jisung towards an anxiety he doesn’t need. So, he keeps reading. Mostly just to get that stupid thought off his head, the thought of being guilty, too.

‘I miss laughing with him… No, I know that’s corny as hell, but seriously, we laughed so much. I’d be breaking into tiny little pieces inside, and he would make me laugh. I would feel awkward and unsure and two seconds later, we’d be laughing. How do you not fall in love with that?

I also miss my FUCKING DOG.’

Jisung huffs a laugh even as he sniffles and reaches up to rub at his nose.

‘Our first kiss was perfect. It wasn’t in a perfect place, or at a perfect time. But the kiss itself? It was perfect. I swear I fell in love there and then. I believed in soulmates even before I knew I was his and he was mine. Maybe that’s why I ran away, and then inevitably went looking for him again. Because he always was, and always will be, something perfect.’

Jisung glances up as if Hyunjin is there and he can look at him, shake his head at him, because… No, Jisung isn’t perfect. Far from it. He’s actually like a little imperfection. But… he likes to think he’s worth loving, too. 

‘I can’t stop thinking about mistakes. And sex. And how much those two things have melded in my brain into one big blob of… bad. I don’t mean ‘bad’ as in ‘unpleasant’. I mean ‘bad’ as in the opposite of ‘good’.

It’s not always bad, though. Sex, I mean. There was once when it wasn’t bad at all. It was good. Really, really, really… good. Not good as in ‘pleasant’, because it was obviously fucking amazing, but like. GOOD. YOU KNOW???

UGH, BRAIN, WORK WITH ME HERE.’

Jisung is frowning in amusement, and tries not to laugh.

‘I borrowed my therapist’s dictionary so I can properly make my fucking point.

Good; with virtue, dignified. 

So yes. It was fucking good.’

Jisung pauses for a moment. Wait… Is he talking about us or…? Suddenly, not knowing makes him a little bit jealous. So, he frowns through the rest of the page and then turns it. 

The next big chunk of notes is a little smudged with tears, written with a shaky hand. A lot of notes have been, but this one, specifically, reads of pain.

‘Do you hate me? Do you understand how desperate I am for you to accept me again, how scared I am to make you feel like you owe me literally anything, when I want to give you everything? You used to look at me like I was perfect, even when I wasn’t. Maybe you look back at that and scold yourself for it, because you think I needed a firm hand over a soft touch. I needed that soft touch so much. I needed to know that I had something to take care of. I’ve had enough of firm hands, I’ve ran into them all my life. They hurt, and it never helped as much as it did being held like I was smaller than myself.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

Jisung rubs his index finger on his thumb. Now, his chest feels tight. He takes a deep breath, and then glances up again when the children pass by on their bikes, giggling with the wind. He has to take another deep breath before continuing.

‘The first time I tried to have sex with Jisung, he said no. It broke my heart. No, I know, that’s dumb as hell, but when you place your entire worth on being desirable to other people, getting a ‘no’ from someone you actually desire is… fucked. It’s fucked! I think I almost cried. I did, a bit, when we went to sleep and he snored softly (it’s so cute) and I tried not to wake him up with my sniffling. God, that’s sad… That’s really fucking sad, because I go out there and get sexualised at every turn and then get upset when someone doesn’t just see me as a sex object? And the worst part is that at that first party, when we met, I thought he was good for doing that. That the fact that he wanted to actually talk to me, made him too good for me, because what the hell am I good for if not for sex? 

Shit. I need to talk to my therapist about this. Poor woman.’

Jisung tries not to think too much about it. But, superficially, he thinks he understands.

‘I did. She agreed that I have a bit of a complicated relationship with sex, and that’s it’s okay if I use it as a bit of a coping mechanism, even if I have been raped before. Being raped didn’t take away the fact that I like sex, it just tainted it a bit. And that’s fine, too. Because Jisung is good, and that’s all that matters now.’

“I swear to fucking god Imma pluck an eyelash every time I see ‘good’ written anywhere,” Jisung mutters to himself as he aggressively turns the page.

‘I love glitter. No, really, I fucking LOVE glitter. Everything looks better with glitter, even dark circles and bad skin. It reflects light in that way that makes it bounce right off of you like a mirrorball, like you’re showing people a million little pieces instead of just one whole reflection. I remember when Jisung asked me if I cried glitter. I had never realised it could look like that, too. I thought about that a lot, after I left, how… that was the first time he saw me for me and he didn’t even realise.’

Jisung lifts his thumb to his lips and bites at his nail. Again, he tries not to think too much about it. But he keeps this one at the back of his head, for some reason. Perhaps it’s something he’ll think about later, when he’s not threading dangerous grounds.

‘My therapist keeps telling me I need to forgive myself. She made a good point about how, like... if you call yourself unforgivable, you’re just giving yourself an excuse to keep being a piece of shit because it can’t get much worse than that. Forgiveness is the first step to redemption and blah blah... It’s true, but it still bothers me because there are some things I think are unforgivable. And I don’t mean mistakes. Mistakes are always forgivable. I don’t care what it is. Mistakes are ALWAYS forgivable. Patterns of abuse and neglect, horrible intentions and hurting someone on purpose, though, is unforgivable. Because those aren’t mistakes, they’re willful, they’re deliberate. But mistakes… I’ve made so many mistakes, and yet I struggle to forgive myself. It’s hypocritical and I know that, so I’m trying to start small, and forgive myself for getting addicted in the first place. It was a mistake. A lapse of judgement. So I’ll forgive myself for that first, and hope the rest will follow.

All I really hope for is that Jisung can forgive my mistakes. I hope he knows that I’ve never purposefully done anything to hurt him. I hope he knows that I trust him, above all, and that I’d make mistakes for him, if he asked. I know that might sound a bit toxic, but I promise it’s not. Love, in its rawest form, is never toxic, and it’s never a mistake. It’s why I’m here, after all. So I won’t ever make a mistake and turn love into toxicity, into co-dependent reliance or horrible intentions. Or, at least, I’ll try my hardest. That has to mean something, right?

I’ll never forgive my father, though. I don’t care about his redemption. I just don’t.’

Now, Jisung is glad for their little talk. Although, he has a feeling that they’ll still talk about this in the future, more than once if needed be. People have this habit of avoiding conversations once they’ve been had, but there’s nothing wrong with exhausting a subject that needs to be addressed, especially if it’s for the best, in the end.

‘I hope you still love me even though now, when I cry, it doesn’t glitter.’

“Idiot…”

‘I wonder if those videos will ever come back to haunt me. I wonder if it’ll be enough to make me spiral again, into losing enough self-worth to stop caring again. 

I know Jisung has seen the videos, and the pictures, that he’s heard the stories. I should have just been happy that he didn’t care. I should have been happy with that, instead of wanting him to know things I wasn’t even fully aware of.

Hell, I shouldn’t have expected so much from him. I shouldn’t have turned him into a drug, or a savior. I keep thinking about that stupid fight after the party… I shouldn’t have yelled at him. But it hurt. It hurt when I trusted him to know that I would only ever be his, and then to hear him say that… that even if just a little bit, he thought I was what I made myself into? It hurt, because I truly thought he could see past all that. I thought that the love in his eyes would be enough to permeate all the bullshit I made of my life and myself. But that wasn’t fair on him.

I’m sorry, Jisungie.’

Again, Jisung’s chest is so tight. And he can’t tell if he’s sad, or in love, or both at the same time. So he just keeps reading and flipping through the pages, eventually reaching up to clean at the corner of his eye. It takes him a while, but he does reach the last page. And the last note reads;

‘I saw you again, today. I was so nervous that when I left the bar, my entire body was shaking and I cried. I should tell you about how every time you touch me, it feels like my life is being rewritten. Maybe I’ll just say ‘I love you’ and hope you understand.’

“Yeah,” Jisung huffs, closing the notebook when one of his tears falls over the word ‘love’ and smudges it a bit. “I understand…”

“Mind if I read something to you?” he asks his mother, Hyunjin’s notebook in his hand, his other hand trying to grab the half of his jacket that’s swinging off his shoulder. Can he get dressed and read his love letter to Hyunjin to his mother at the same time? Maybe. “Just so you can tell me if it’s all good or if I should add something more.”

“Hit me with it,” she chirps, turning in place on the couch to prop her cheek up with her hand.

Jisung manages to slip his arm into the sleeve of his jacket just as he turns to look at the notebook. He straightens up and clears his throat. Alright. Time to be vulnerable, I guess. “It was sort of spectacular; like catching fire. The world is a pile of broken hearts, and I found yours in the middle, looking a little just like mine, pieces missing, tape holding it together as it was. It was shiny but it had no colour. And yet, it still sparked something.” Jisung peeks at his mother for a moment before going on. She’s smiling, ever so softly. “You would think I’d have picked it up, tried to fit in new colours even though they weren’t your own. You would think I’d have tried to save you. But, honestly, I needed saving just the same. So, instead, I tried to lay my heart next to yours. And, for the first time in forever, instead of thinking to myself that I’d die for someone else because they mean the world to me, I thought I’d live for them, for you. Not in a way that weighs on you, because I won’t die without you even if my mind tries its best to tell me so. Simply, in a way that weighs on my heart, enough for it to feel alive. You were the perfect excuse to take another step forward. An excuse I will always be afraid to lose because sometimes I don’t do so well, walking on my own. And it’s not like you keep the swirling darkness away, but it’s funnier to fight it together. So, I’m sorry if I’m not the knight in shiny armor, the one you needed to pick up your broken heart, your broken soul, and fill it with colours to make it better, prettier in the eyes of others. But, even so, when the darkness falls, curled tendrils beckoning the unknown into my palm, crawling under my skin, black to the point I can no longer feel you by my side, I’ll remember… that maybe you’re still fighting it with me.”

Oof.. Heavy shit.

“Oh, honey,” his mother says, voice soft. “You’re so wasted as a bartender…”

Jisung frowns and snaps the notebook closed. “Shut up.”

“Noooo,” she laughs, putting her glass down to stand up and grab his cheeks to kiss them. “It’s beautiful.”

“Do you think… he’ll understand it?” Jisung asks, pocketing the notebook and then zipping up his jacket. Ahhh, antsy, antsy…

“He’s your soulmate,” she smiles. “If he doesn’t understand it, you’re doomed.”

“That isn’t as reassuring as you’re trying to make it sound, mom…”

“Whoopsies?”

Jisung is supposed to meet up with Hyunjin in an hour, so he doesn’t linger, simply rolling his eyes at his mother, grabbing his things and heading out. It would be a lie to say that he’s not nervous. He’s walking faster than usual, and he feels antsy when he has to sit still inside the train.

Hyunjin lives in Murray Hill now, just off Lexington Avenue, on the east side of Manhattan. No wonder, though. It’s Hyunjin we’re talking about and Fifth Avenue literally borders this area. Jisung gets exactly what he expects when he gets there. It’s the most ‘New York’ living area that he’s ever seen in New York. He can’t even begin to imagine the cost of having an apartment here.

He has to text Hyunjin because he forgot to ask him what door to ring. Turns out that the guy lives on the fourteenth floor of a big-ass expensive looking building that contains a gym, a lounge, what the fuck , and even a small confederence center. The apartment opens into the living room, and Jisung immediately spots a balcony past the sofa slash TV area, with a view he can only currently make out as a bunch of buildings and a park. There’s a bathroom to the right, which Hyunjin immediately shows Jisung, and a closet on the left, where Hyunjin urges Jisung to dump his shoes. Further in, the living room turns into the big kitchen slash dining room on the right (Hyunjin does love cooking), and to the left there’s a door that leads into Hyunjin’s bedroom, with a desk and computer against the wall with the window behind it.

“Do you wanna, perhaps, reconsider the whole ‘sugar daddy’ thing…?” Jisung asks, only half joking, as he looks around the place. He can’t help but smile when a small, familiar dog comes out of who knows where to rush to Jisung’s feet and sniff them. I showered, I promise… “Seriously, I—” Jisung crouches to pet the dog but keeps his eyes up. “I don’t think I could afford this, not even if I sold one of my kidneys…”

“I might not be your sugar daddy, but I won’t let you sell any of your kidneys when I can afford things just fine,” Hyunjin chirps, crouching down to pick up Kkami.

Jisung glances over. “Friends with benefits? The benefits being that I benefit from your money?”

Hyunjin raises an amused eyebrow. “You intend on simply being ‘friends’?”

Jisung opens his mouth and then closes it. Not… really.

“Anyway,” Hyunjin huffs, giving Kkami a kiss on the head before the dog starts wiggling to be set free. He puts him down and straightens up, smiling at Jisung in that way that makes his cheeks dimple. “Did you, uhm, read the book..? I’ve been angsting over it since I gave it to you.”

“Yeah,” Jisung says, standing up to hand the notebook back. “Yeah, I did.”

Hyunjin nods and takes the book, nibbling at his bottom lip. “Any, uhm, comments..? God, I feel so exposed,” he laughs, clearly nervous.

Jisung laughs softly. “I, uh, wrote something back…? Don’t read it right now! Just… later. When I’m nowhere near…”

“Why, are you embarrassed?” Hyunjin teases, thankfully not opening the notebook.

Jisung’s heart does a thing, mostly nerves. “Yeah…? Sort of. Kind of…”

“Cute.”

Jisung pats his jeans awkwardly and then glances around again. “So… what about your parents? What happened to them?”

“I don’t talk to them anymore,” Hyunjin says quite plainly, turning around to walk to the living room and giving Jisung the space to follow. “Don’t think I ever will again, to be honest…”

Jisung nods, letting Hyunjin take a seat first before sitting down, too. “You should… come over some time. My mother has been… ecstatic ever since I told her we’ve been hanging out.”

“She doesn’t hate me either?” Hyunjin asks, putting the notebook on the coffee table in front of them, eyebrows up.

“Huh?” Jisung blinks, shifting and then shifting again to make himself comfortable on the soft couch. “Why would she hate you?”

“For…” Hyunjin gestures vaguely at Jisung. “Ya know…”

Jisung licks his lips and shakes his head, smiling small when he looks down at his lap. “Nah, she wouldn’t. She never really said anything, but I think she always sort of hoped that things would work out for the best… Even when it seemed rather bleak.”

“As do I~” Hyunjin hums, a small smile on his lips when he glances at Jisung, looking away quickly. 

“She was very excited when I accepted Changbin’s invite to work at the bar.”

“Right, you’ve been doing that for a while now,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head curiously. “Do you still like it?”

Jisung takes a deep breath and shifts his butt on the cushion. He wishes he could get more comfortable but he’s scared that if he lies back he’ll be swallowed whole by the soft couch and a wave of shame. “I miss the gas station, sometimes…?” he admits, and then chuckles. “I’ve never really said this out loud before… But… Yeah, I do miss it. It was… different. It’s a very ‘low’ job in the eyes of others so nobody really expected much from me. Like, ah, he works at a gas station, he’s obviously failing at life. Like having a job at all isn’t a major feat. But… At the bar,” Jisung glances up. “It’s not a big step up, but it’s a step up. And when you step up, people start thinking that maybe you are capable of all these things they never asked of you before, so they start demanding. And you’ve got no training whatsoever in meeting these demands so you just flounder and find yourself missing easier times when you’re alone in bed at night.”

“Is it…” Hyunjin licks his lips, shifting on the couch as well and giggling when he actually does sink further into the pillow. “Sorry, uhm. Is it easier for you to handle your, like, anxiety and stuff when you don’t have a very demanding job..?”

“It’s made it easier,” Jisung mumbles, shrugging one shoulder, “In a way, to have a more demanding job. But I can’t really tell if I’m just masking sometimes. Like, I actually thought I was getting better…? But then occasionally I am too exhausted to keep up and I just sort of collapse.” He shrugs again and glances up, eyes shifting on the wall with the TV across from them. “I guess that’s part of it, though. Ups and downs. Sometimes, it’s not just about ‘getting better’, it’s about… managing.”

Hyunjin nods. “I get that… Managing, I mean.” Jisung glances over. “People say addiction is a disease, sometimes one without a cure? And I’ve heard it can be the same for like… depression and anxiety and stuff? Correct me if I’m wrong,” Hyunjin huffs, clearly shy.

Jisung huffs a laugh. “I’m no expert, really, and I know everyone’s experience is different. I haven’t been to therapy in forever but going to therapy didn’t cure me, it just… helped me accept it and… care for myself better when it’s bad.”

“I have a therapist now…”

“Really?” Jisung’s eyes go slightly bigger. “Cool! Is it the same person from when you were in rehab?”

Hyunjin shifts, flushing red. It only occurs to Jisung, then, that Hyunjin never gave him that information, Jisung just read it in Hyunjin’s notebook. “Ye—Yeah,” Hyunjin nods. “She’s really nice. I don’t feel judged and that’s nice… I was a bit scared, at first? To open up so much? Especially when it comes to like… sex and identity and all that, but she’s trans, so… We bonded, kinda...”

“Hm…” Jisung hums, looking down at Kkami when the fluffy creature comes padding over the carpet and then jumps onto the couch to sit between them. “Do you… struggle, too, sometimes?” Jisung asks, reaching over to poke the dog’s thick coat.

“Honestly? The busier I am, the happier I am,” Hyunjin laughs softly.

“Because you don’t have the time or energy to dwell on shitty thoughts?”

“Nah, I just feel more… fulfilled? Like, when you get into bed and think back on the day and you go, ooh, I did so much, I’m so tired , and you just doze off without worries.”

“You’re such an extrovert,” Jisung laughs, shaking his head. “Meanwhile, me, I’m always looking forward to a nice day in bed. Fuck being busy, my energy reserves suck.”

Hyunjin giggles. “I mean, I consider spending a day reading or doing art ‘busy’. It’s not always just work.”

“I’ve been reading poetry,” Jisung admits for no reason.

Hyunjin groans, head dropping to the back of the couch, cheek squished as he looks at Jisung. “Oh, come on, really?”

Jisung blinks. “Yeah, on… on my phone. It’s actually quite addicting…”

“You really are perfect, aren’t you?” Hyunjin sort of grins.

“What?” Jisung laughs, embarrassed. “Because I read poetry?”

“Not many hot men do.”

“I, uh,” Jisung turns forward on the couch. I’m dying. “Right.” He points at himself and nods at no one. “Hot man.” He nods again, Hyunjin now giggling like crazy. “That’s me.”

“Very hot, yes,” Hyunjin laughs.

“You need to stop with the compliments, I’m going to explode,” Jisung scoffs, turning his face away when he feels it burn.

“It’s like, one compliment , but fine,” Hyunjin laughs. “You should send me some of that poetry… I’m curious now.”

Jisung shifts aside and pulls out his phone, unlocking it and then opening the Google tab with the poem he was reading this morning. ‘The Waste Land’ by T. S. Eliot. Hyunjin leans closer to peek at the screen, eyebrows going up before he leans away again. “I was checking this one out earlier today. Although, my favourites are still  ‘Annabel Lee’ and ‘Love is a fire that burns unseen’.”

“Annabel Lee is so beautifully sad,” Hyunjin sighs, pouting small. “I should read more poetry. I’ve just been reading books. I missed it, I used to read so much… But I really missed getting lost in a world that isn’t my own, but I get to see in my own way. It’s like, the author will describe a house, and I bet that house in the author’s mind has been seen a million different times by everyone who’s read that book. They’ll describe a handsome character, and he’ll look different to everyone. I always liked that… That ability to have individuality while letting yourself be guided by someone else’s ideas. And not just that, it’s the emotions, too. I think those are the ones people don’t… think of differently? Like, if something is sad, that sadness can have a million different like… colours, but it’s still going to sit in the same place in someone’s heart. Sadness is sadness but a house is… walls and windows and paint and furniture, I don’t know…”

Jisung finally lets himself lean back on the couch. “Yeah… I get it. I like the poems because they usually use your most common words to paint pictures of feelings and emotions, which are abstract concepts… It’s difficult to put abstract concepts into objective ideas… something you can grasp and understand, but something you can then also deconstruct…?”

“We never used to talk like this,” Hyunjin smiles, clearly fond. “I like it a lot… I had no idea you were so deep, Han Jisung.”

Jisung puffs a breath. “Why? ‘Cause I worked at a gas station?” he jokes.

“How dare you insinuate that I am classist,” Hyunjin gasps, smacking over at Jisung’s arm. “I fell in love with that boy who worked at a gas station. It’s an important place for me, believe it or not...”

Jisung peeks over, blinks, and then looks away, pulling his upper lip into his mouth to nibble on it. Sure, he’s been texting Hyunjin almost every day, but it’s only the second time they’re meeting up after all that’s happened. It’s foreign, because they’re both no longer the same people they were a couple of months ago. But it’s also oddly comfortable. As well as mildly exciting, to get to know each other all over again, without all the glitter and the fog, without all that mess.

“How is… the modeling…? Like, actually…” Jisung asks, taking a deep breath and looking at Hyunjin. The dark hair really does sit differently on him. Makes him look… Within reach. “I guess you like being busy… But… what about the rest?”

“It’s been a bit crazy,” Hyunjin laughs softly. “Like I told you, I was just doing catalogue, so you can’t imagine my shock when I was approached by like… So many people . Suddenly, it felt like everyone wanted me,” he laughs, cheeks red. 

“Should I be jealous?” Jisung asks, only mildly joking.

“Of Swarovski?” Hyunjin giggles.

“They have diamonds, Hyunjin. In what world can I compete with that?”

“You’d win, though,” Hyunjin teases. 

Jisung licks his lips. “Stop telling me what I wanna hear, it’s working.”

Hyunjin giggles, looking down at his hands where he’s playing with his fingers. “It’s been nice, though… A little overwhelming, what with the influx of Instagram followers and invites to different events and all the job offers and stuff... But nice.”

“Hm…” Jisung nods. He looks away. “So… hypothetically speaking, how would that work with me in the picture…?” he asks, as casually as possible, pretending he’s very interested in the way his black jeans feel against the tips of his fingers.

“Wonderfully, I hope,” Hyunjin huffs. “I mean, it’s not like you have to follow me to photoshoots or join me on any billboards…”

“But what if I wanna, like, be in the background?” Jisung asks and then shrugs one shoulder. “Like… bring you coffee to work or… show up with flowers or some stupid shit like that… Or just… hold your hand if you have to go somewhere important…”

Hyunjin slowly puts a hand over his chest. “Oh, that’s doing things to me, oh no…”

Jisung laughs softly. He remembers thinking about how his dream of ‘settling down’ with a guy was crushed the night he met Hyunjin. Yes that dream, the one about that person who was supposed to be a little taller, a little artistic but not too much, someone who’d be fun to be around, someone who would be able to hold a conversation, someone who wouldn’t mind arguing over stupid shit… But, most importantly, someone who’d love him, only him.

“Do you… Think it’s going to be a problem for you..?” Hyunjin pouts, worried eyes suddenly stuck on Jisung’s face. 

“I don’t know,” Jisung admits. “It’s definitely a side of the world I never really considered having to interact with.”

“You can just interact with me?” Hyunjin huffs, playing with his fingers again. Ah, he’s nervous...

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Jisung chuckles.

Hyunjin scoots a little closer on the couch, dropping his head to sort of boop Jisung’s shoulder with his forehead. “I don’t want anything to get in the way again…”

Jisung glances down at the dog between them. “Right… about that…”

“What is it?” Hyunjin asks, looking up immediately with wide eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Jisung just points down, trying not to let his lips pull into a smile. “I don’t wanna… crush him…”

“O—Oh,” Hyunjin frets, face pink as he gathers Kkami up, who whines in annoyance. “Aish, you never wanna cuddle but now you do?!”

Jisung just laughs, amused and oddly endeared. He’s used to being the one freaking out. Hyunjin is supposed to be the cool, tall man, with a beautiful face and body, who oozes sexual confidence. This is a rather different side, but one that Jisung doesn’t hate at all, much on the contrary. Then again, it’s difficult to forget that this Hyunjin is the exact same one that sucked Jisung’s dick nearly dry over the course of a couple of weeks.

Oh, my heart. Must my dick have a direct connection to my feelings…?

Kkami barks and wiggles his way out of Hyunjin’s arms to jump over him and nuzzle into the now unoccupied corner of the couch. The look Hyunjin gives him is really something, especially with how he quickly blinks it away when he looks over to see Jisung looking at him.

“I love you,” Jisung says, for no reason other than the fact that the thought popped up. 

Hyunjin’s eyes flick over, wide and shiny. He opens his mouth, probably to say something, but apparently gives up when all he can do is pout and blush. He groans, then, letting his forehead fall to Jisung’s shoulder again. “I’m going to die…”

Jisung huffs a laugh. He hesitates a little before just letting himself lean forward, his lips and nose touching Hyunjin’s hair. He smells nice. Like expensive shampoo. It’s a new scent, but even so, underneath all that, there’s something that Jisung’s nose tells him it’s worth chasing, so Jisung takes a deep, quiet breath.

He doesn’t really expect Hyunjin to move even closer, and he definitely didn’t expect Hyunjin to cling to him, curled into a ball and holding at Jisung’s clothes. “I love you, too…”

Jisung lifts his arm and curls it around Hyunjin, nose buried in his hair, eyes somewhat lost in the living room. Now, he’s throwing back to all those days and nights Hyunjin spent over at his place, cooking with him for Mrs. Han, watching movies together with her, going grocery shopping together for no reason at all, simply existing in a world of their own. Jisung has never had anything to look forward to as much as he did look forward to getting back home to that. Even now that his life is all put together, he still doesn’t think he’s got anything like that going for him.

“I don’t have to model, you know,” Hyunjin says, voice small. “I can just… do art and find some random job somewhere nice, I really don’t—I really don’t want anything to get in the way, I don’t want anything to be more important than this, because it’s not…”

Jisung shakes his head a little. “You like modelling,” he mumbles. “So… Why would that get in the way? It’s part of you, and that’s what I’m here for. Not a washed up version of you. Just… you.”

“I know, but I just…” 

“Hey,” Jisung leans back to try to get a look of Hyunjin’s face. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. We’re not our parents. I won’t let my life go to shit just ‘cause I got my heart broken once and you will not cut off bits of yourself for my sake. We’re doing this right, or as right as humanly possible.”

Hyunjin nods with a sniff, even though he still looks unsure and nervous. Idiot...

“I’ll be your number one fan,” Jisung tries, reaching up to bump his fist softly against Hyunjin’s chin, which makes him smile, so yay . “If you get screaming fans, at some point, I’ll scream louder.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Hyunjin smiles, eyes soft on Jisung. 

“So…” Jisung licks his lips and closes his mouth when a shuddering breath threatens to escape. “Uhm, for, uh, starters… Would you—” His face heats up. “Be my… boyfriend…? Pretty please…?”

Jisung glances up when Hyunjin sniffles, suddenly met with the face of a definitely crying Hyunjin. “R—Really..?”

“I—I mean, if you say ‘yes’, yeah…” Jisung mumbles. “I would… like to try us again…”

“Just like that?” Hyunjin asks with a wet laugh, wiping furiously at his face with his sleeves.

Jisung blinks. “Am I… skipping some sort of protocol that I’m not aware of…?”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head. “N—No, I’d love to be your boyfriend…”

Jisung deflates. “Oh… Oh, great… I was starting to get worried…”

“We’re both really stupid, aren’t we?” Hyunjin giggles, wiping his entire face in the crook of his elbow. “Kiss me, would you!”

“Ah—” Jisung startles, and then fumbles for a few seconds before just going ‘fuck it’ and grabbing Hyunjin’s face with both hands to pull him into a kiss Hyunjin immediately melts into.

To think kissing someone could make the world stop and reset itself. Hyunjin mentioned that, too, in his notebook, that every time they touched it was as if his life was being rewritten. So maybe Jisung puts a little more into this kiss, pulling Hyunjin’s face even closer, so much that their lips are crushed together. It feels like it’s been forever since they’ve done this, and even though Jisung’s brain will most likely try to rationalise all of this later, in his heart, it just feels like ‘hello again, I missed you’.

Jisung doesn’t think that when in stories people say ‘and they lived happily ever after’, they mean that the characters in question lived the rest of their lives in a constant state of happiness. And that’s something people seem to misunderstand a lot. Only because happiness without sadness has… Well, no meaning.

Happiness is a comparative emotion. The measure of happiness a person feels is judged against the measure of sadness a person felt in the past. That’s why sometimes the bare minimum makes a person happy, while someone else will need the world to move for them in order for them to experience happiness. But people are also quite forgetful. And life is not without its ups and downs, obviously.

So, what does it mean to ‘live happily ever after’? It can’t mean a continuous life filled only with happy events because that’s impossible. But it can’t also mean irreversible sadness, because that’s not ‘happy’. That’s just depression. Or misery. Sometimes both. 

Jisung believes that ‘happily ever after’ means having happiness as a welcome, regular guest. Because life is life and sometimes it has no meaning, and sometimes it’s just fucking sad. Being sad every now and then doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. Sometimes, being really sad is warranted. But happiness… Happiness always visits, if you’re lucky enough to welcome it. And it can be as simple as smelling the scent of freshly baked bread, or getting to eat your favourite cake after a very long day. Or as simple as seeing the person you love smile and have that fill you on the inside.

Happiness doesn’t always erase sadness, and it is possible to be both sad and happy at the same time, which might baffle some people.

Hopefully, Hyunjin’s life will be something along those lines; hopefully he’ll get to live happily ever after, and if that includes Jisung then all for the better. Jisung always thought that Hyunjin deserved it, everything, whatever it is he wants in life. He’s clearly going to go places, and Jisung can’t wait to watch him fly.

Months ago, outside a house packed with people, Jisung and Hyunjin sat down, together, and talked for the very first time. Jisung asked Hyunjin if he cried glitter, and Hyunjin said he’s a fairy. Jisung then asked him where his wings were, and Hyunjin said they withered and fell off years ago. He seemed oddly serious about it, too.

‘That’s okay. Mine never learned to fly.’ That is still true today. So maybe… Maybe, in some sort of ‘let’s rewrite everything together’, Jisung can give his wings to someone who could clearly use them. 

That’s what the kisses down Hyunjin’s back are for, when they lie in bed that night after falling off the couch mid making out. They’re just little moments, moments that tumble into Jisung turning Hyunjin around once they’re both practically naked, and pinning his hands to the bed as their fingers lace together. Jisung kisses Hyunjin’s lips to muffle a gasp, and only lets go when Hyunjin hikes one of his legs up, to hook over Jisung’s lower back. 

Hyunjin bites Jisung’s lower lip and Jisung grabs his thigh with a hiss, leaning back slightly to peer into his eyes. There’s a slight grin on Hyunjin’s face, something that could fade away as easily as a star in the sky. So, Jisung decides to let it be, and instead starts lowering himself, kissing down Hyunjin’s chest and stomach while feeling Hyunjin’s fingers trail paths into his hair.

Jisung takes Hyunjin’s dick into his mouth. It’s weird to get hit with a vaguely familiar feeling, then, something along the lines of ‘I belong somewhere between this man’s legs’ and ‘oh yeah, I’ve been here before’. It would make Jisung laugh if he wasn’t so busy and if Hyunjin wasn’t being so loud. 

As Hyunjin arches a little from the bed, though, his abdomen tensing up, Jisung pulls up, having to reach up to clean his puffy lips as he gets to watch Hyunjin’s face twist a little in frustration. Not done yet, though.

It’s the first time they’re doing it like this, with Hyunjin lying back and Jisung having to split his energy between keeping himself up on top of him and also having to thrust into him. It’s also the first time they stay so close, Hyunjin’s legs and arms wrapped around Jisung while he whimpers in his ear every now and then. 

Their heads bump a couple of times when they try to find each other’s lips, and it’s nice to giggle like this, so close like it really is only them in the entire universe who have ever been this close. Soulmates, huh?  

For months, all there ever was, was Hyunjin. Now, it’s back to that again, except… Except Jisung wants to be present. He doesn’t just want to be the side character in his own story anymore. He doesn’t just want to watch, doesn’t want to be a spectator to his own demise. Sure, to him, it’s all pretty much just still Hyunjin. But… maybe Jisung will demand a bit more.

“Can we do it again…?” he asks with a kiss to Hyunjin’s shoulder when Hyunjin curls on his side after they’ve both caught their breaths. Hyunjin responds by rolling back around and throwing a leg over Jisung’s waist with a nod, kissing at Jisung’s face with closed eyes.

Jisung didn’t think he’d get to watch this time around, but turns out that having Hyunjin ride him might be one of his favourite positions. Sure, it’s nice to be close. But Hyunjin is so very beautiful, especially when he’s actually confidently enjoying himself — which, hey, big compliment, my dick is happy —but… It’s not just that, is it? Jisung had never really thought about it until now, but the way Hyunjin moves his body, the way he rolls his hips in Jisung’s hands, the way he leans slightly back with a hand to Jisung’s thigh to hold himself up, and the way he reaches up to push back some of the hair that keeps getting in his face… Hyunjin is so very sensual. And it’s not even a way that begs to be touched. He’s just… art. You don’t touch art. You look at it, you appreciate it and you try your best to understand it.

Hyunjin comes onto Jisung’s stomach with a smile, head back as he tightens around him, squeezing Jisung’s own orgasm out of him. And Hyunjin doesn’t just look happy, or fucked out or any of that, he actually looks… Joyful , somehow. Content.

He falls forward after a while, but holds himself up, his face just a few inches away from Jisung’s. His skin is glistening. And hey, it’s not glitter, but it’s close. It’s better even, because it’s not artificial, it’s all just him, shining all the same.

Yeah. This is it. I’m never going to love anyone else, am I? Not like this.

Jisung reaches up to curl some of Hyunjin’s hair behind his ear, somewhat aware that he’s still inside him and that he’s getting soft. “This might… sound stupid,” he mumbles, “But… wanna, like, marry me or something…?”

Hyunjin’s wide eyes search Jisung’s, a smile slowly blooming over his face before he giggles. “Already sick of being my boyfriend, huh?”

“I can be both,” Jisung huffs.

“Yes, yes, you can,” Hyunjin giggles.

Jisung licks his lips. “So… is that a ‘yes’...?”

“Yes, you idiot,” Hyunjin laughs, leaning in to pepper Jisung’s entire face with kisses.

“Oh, great,” Jisung squeaks. “Saves me the trouble of having to ask again tomorrow.”

“Ask anyway!” Hyunjin laughs, shifting so Jisung’s poor dick can be released , nonetheless still clinging to Jisung when he relaxes again. “Fucking hell, I love you so much…”

Jisung pouts at the ceiling and then slowly brings his arms around Hyunjin. “I love you, too… Really. Forever, I promise...” Fuck, I’m tearing up… Post sex depression is real.

“I wasn’t going to cry but then you said forever , I hate you,” Hyunjin laughs, obviously already crying.

Jisung sniffles. “Get in line, bitch!”

Hyunjin laughs, shifting them both to lie on their sides, faces close and legs entangled, naked and probably in need of a shower but clearly not caring. He reaches up for Jisung’s face, moving stray strands of his hair back to just… touch, at his cheeks, his temple, his jawline, with that brand™ of smile that makes it really difficult for Jisung to ever second guess how much he’s loved.

“Actually, I think that,” Jisung whispers, “I’m going to love you even more from now on… It’s not certain,” he sort of jokes, making Hyunjin’s smile widen, “But… high percentage working in your favour here.”

“Me, too,” Hyunjin whispers back. “Oh, I’m in daaaanger…”

“Yeah…” Jisung chuckles. “Damn, my mother is gonna be so annoying…”

“Shhh, no mom talk after sex and engagement euphoria,” Hyunjin giggles, putting his finger to Jisung’s bottom lip. Jisung pouts, and Hyunjin flicks it down, and the sound it makes turns them both into giggly messes. Especially when Jisung tries it on Hyunjin’s lips and the sound is obviously much deeper. Thicc lip.

It turns into a fight, and they start wrestling on the bed, Kkami hearing them from the living room and waltzing in while barking to jump onto the bed and bark at them. Jisung doesn’t like the idea of being naked next to a dog so he covers his tiddies, which makes Hyunjin laugh. But hey, maybe that’s something he’ll have to get used to; it’s a pet owner thing, to have had their pet watch them have sex at some point in life.

“Here,” Jisung says when they decide to get up to go shower. He takes Hyunjin’s hand and holds an invisible ring in his fingers that he slides down Hyunjin’s ring finger. “Just until I get a real one.”

“Did you just,” Hyunjin says, clearly trying not to laugh. “Fuck my finger?”

Jisung sighs loudly, mourning his very romantic gesture’s death. “It’s a ring for your finger, not a cock ring, Hyunjin…”

“Hm, should get one of those, too,” Hyunjin giggles, lifting his finger to kiss it where the ring would be, before making a show out of ‘showing it off’ like a dainty, limp-wristed Victorian wife. 

Jisung laughs and smacks Hyunjin’s butt. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go wash up.”

“Smack my ass like that again and back to bed we’ll have to go—”

“Threaten me with a good time, why don’t you.”

Happiness and sadness, two things that go hand in hand. 

Jisung didn’t think he’d get home to his mother passed out on the floor instead of the couch. He didn’t think he’d need to call for an ambulance for her. And he didn’t think that he’d have to sit in the middle of a waiting room, staring at a white wall for most of the night, until Hyunjin managed to show up and join him in the waiting. Thankfully, Hyunjin doesn’t try to comfort Jisung with lies, just talks to the doctors so Jisung doesn’t have to, and holds his hand.

Apparently, Mrs. Han’s liver couldn’t take it anymore. Jisung immediately starts worrying about money, because he doesn’t have the money to cover any of this. Having called an ambulance in the first place was already a lot, he just did it because he was panicking. Hyunjin immediately tells him to stop being stupid, that of course he’ll pay for it all because he has the money and he wants to. 

But the worst of it happens a few days later, when Mrs. Han vomits blood all over the bathroom. Jisung rushes into an anxiety attack so fast that he has to go back on his medication shortly after, because he almost spiraled. His mother is the only parent he has and she’s someone he relies on for quite a lot, even if she raised him to be rather independent. So, obviously, the thought of losing her is nearly unbearable. Just pure anguish in the form of sadness that Hyunjin somehow helps make better.

On the other hand, a few days after that, Hyunjin gets a really good contract, and they all celebrate with non alcoholic drinks Jisung prepares for them.

It’s on the night Hyunjin has to fly to LA, that Jisung tells his mother that he asked Hyunjin to marry him, and she nearly strangles him on the couch.

“Without a ring?!” she yells while she storms up the stairs.

Jisung sighs dramatically, following after her. “Where the fuck would I get a ring, mom?”

“From me,” she says once she plants her feet in front of him once more, and it’s the first time Jisung ever sees his mother’s wedding ring. She stopped wearing it before Jisung could walk or talk, and never brought it up. It’s simple, a slim gold band holding a dainty in the middle, a bright white cluster of diamonds. “I knew I could have sold it for quite some money, but…” she shrugs, handing it over with a smile and wrapping Jisung’s fingers over where it lays on his palm. “I figured you could use it one day.”

Jisung only ever saw one picture of his mother on her wedding day. It was the happiest he’d ever seen her. To think she poured so much of herself into something that never worked out, something that only brought her misery, save perhaps for the one good thing she got out of it, some company for the future and someone to look after her once she’s old.

“Thanks,” Jisung mutters. “I’ll treasure it.”

Jisung has the house for himself. He made it all the way home with two bags full of ingredients and far more ambition than actual talent for cooking. He’s quite happy and enthusiastic about cooking for his mom, who’s in AA (Alcoholics Anonymous, for those who might not know) at the moment, and Hyunjin, who’s on his way to pick her up. Those two really bonded over their addictions and there was nothing Jisung could do to stop it.

The recipe said it would take an hour to make. But, apparently, staring at the oven won’t make it cook any faster, and Jisung is running out of time. He can’t wait to be with the two people he loves the most on this very weird Thanksgiving day that isn’t Thanksgiving anymore because one, they missed the actual Thanksgiving, and two, there’s no turkey! But he’d very much like to have something to show, too. Like, hey, I didn’t get us a turkey, but I made us kimchi lasagna!

The oven finally dings a couple of minutes before the front door clicks open and chatter fills the house. Jisung rushes to stick a towel underneath the pan so he doesn’t burn his hands off while transporting it to the coffee table, which has been set like an actual table, table cloth and all.

“Oh, smells good in here,” Mrs. Han chirps as she walks in, looking like a teenager in her thirties. 

“Hi,” Jisung chirps back, hiding the towel behind his back and smiling all thin lipped at her. “I…” He clears his throat and glances at Hyunjin, who shows up behind Mrs. Han, looking taller than ever against the tiny mom. “I made dinner…”

Mrs. Han and Hyunjin exchange a look. Is it surprise? Is it suspicion, horror? Who knows. 

“It’s kimchi lasagna, actually,” Jisung explains.

Hyunjin huffs a laugh, taking his coat off and hanging it up before helping Jisung’s mother out of hers. “That actually sounds—and smells—really good. Well done, honey.”

“He never cooked before I nearly died, you know,” Mrs. Han ‘whispers’.

“Hey! I made you breakfast, like, all the fucking time!” Jisung complains.

“Yes, but it never had kimchi in it,” she teases, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

Jisung pouts. “Well, my mother never taught me how to cook. So you can blame her if you wanna blame anyone.”

“I learned how to cook from YouTube,” Hyunjin chirps, walking closer and kissing Jisung’s other cheek. Ah, feeling the love...

“I feel like… You’re both taking away from the fact that I worked really hard for this…”

“Aw,” the both go, leaning in to kiss his cheek at the same time, like a Jisung sandwich. 

“Now I feel babied,” Jisung grumbles. 

“He’s never happy,” his mother jokes, but Hyunjin lingers as she goes to sit down, and scratches softly at his hair.

“Thanks for cooking us Late Thanksgiving. I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”

Jisung smiles. “Yeah, I hope so, too!”

It’s actually really good. To the point Mrs. Han starts accusing Jisung of ordering take away lasagna from some fusion restaurant, because her son couldn’t possibly have created a meal this tasty. Which, rude, but Jisung takes it for the compliment it is. And even though the tray was quite big, all of them get seconds. So, there’s only a tiny slice left over, which Jisung packs into a container and then shoves in the fridge while Hyunjin washes the dishes.

“Hey,” Hyunjin says once he’s done, leaning against the counter and drying his hands off as the sink drains. “I had an idea I wanted to walk past you.”

“Shoot,” Jisung chirps. He’s hunching a bit, but he’s so full his body is forcing him to bend.

“I think three things,” Hyunjin says. “One, I think that—” he flushes. “You should move in with me. Kind of skipped that step.”

Jisung blinks. “Processing. Go on…”

“Two, I think that your mother would be very happy living a few floors down from us, in an adorable one bedroom apartment with a view.”

Jisung frowns. “You know we can’t afford that…”

“Four things. I think four things.”

Jisung lets a small grin bloom on his face before he brings back the serious face. “Go on,” he says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I think I should have told you before I started this conversation that I made a shitton of money doing a photoshoot for Fenty—yes, the Rihanna brand—that’s going to appear in Times Square and I’ve been invited to model at New York Fashion Week which is, what, fifty thousand dollars a day for a week? So yes, we can afford it.” Hyunjin blinks, looking to the wall. “ We … Huh…”

This is the part where Jisung chastises himself for taking advantage of this stupidly rich boyfriend of his. But hey! Doublethink. People on the internet are constantly talking about how the rich should help the poor. So… charity…? Ugh…

“What are the other things you think?” Jisung questions.

“Oh,” Hyunjin says, dropping his hand that he’d been counting the points on. “Your mom should get a hamster.”

“Okay…?” Jisung frowns. “Hey, mom!” he calls, “Do you like rodents?”

“Yes?” she calls back.

“Or a cat,” Hyunjin shrugs. “Oh, and if you want to get a bigger apartment, we can do that, too.”

“Can you please slow down your rich ass self?” Jisung says, lifting both hands to put a stop to this.

Hyunjin pouts. “But I could be a supermodel soon, I need to learn how to act like one.”

Jisung rolls his eyes and takes Hyunjin’s hand, slowly dragging him all the way to the couch where Mrs. Han is sitting, busy digesting her dinner. “Alright, let’s talk about this as a family. Mom, wake up,” Jisung urges, waving his hand in front of her as he sits down by her side. “Hyunjin wants to buy you a house or whatever.”

“I just don’t want her to be far away from you,” Hyunjin whines.

“I don’t want to leave her alone,” Jisung says. “But I also don’t… wanna say no to you.”

“I’m an adult,” Mrs. Han says. “I might not have a fully functioning liver anymore, but I am an adult.”

“Yes, yes, shut up.”

Hyunjin laughs and puts his face in his hands. “What have I started…”

“I thought this was what you wanted,” Jisung argues, confused.

“It is, but now I want a bigger apartment because you reminded me I’m a rich boy!”

“I fucking can’t with you right now…” Jisung scoffs bitterly. “These people. They taste money once and they get addicted.” Wait. Too soon? Maybe I shouldn’t have worded it that way.

“At least a better view and a bigger kitchen won’t get me killed,” Hyunjin says, sticking his tongue out.

“You never know,” Jisung muses. “People have died in kitchens before. And quite a lot have fallen from large balconies.”

“I am admittedly tired of living with a man,” Mrs. Han interrupts. 

“Hey!” Jisung whines.

“Yeah!” Hyunjin defends. “He’s like, barely a man—”

“What do you mean?!” Jisung yells.

“Family,” Mrs. Han cackles.

I fucking hate it here.

Jisung’s hair is long. Not Hyunjin-long, but long enough that he keeps having to tilt his head to the side to keep it out of his eyes. He hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while. And, honestly, he’s quite lazy to get that done. Besides, Hyunjin likes it. Especially, when Jisung’s locks are clinging a little to the skin on his face and he has his head low but glances up with hooded eyes… Yes, Hyunjin spent twenty minutes describing this image to Jisung. To say it wasn’t an ego boost would be a lie.

The weather is grey and cold. Maximum temperatures keep bouncing between 32º and 45º Fahrenheit and they’re threatening to go lower, so having longer hair is not that bad. Besides, it’s really keeping Hyunjin’s libido going. And yes, there’s something about having sex in the middle of the afternoon when the weather outside invites no nakedness. It’s just… cozy. The feeling of it often reminds Jisung of those days he’d spend on the couch watching Harry Potter and eating sweets and drinking coffee while the world outside drowned in cold rain. Good times, good times.

A snowstorm hits two days before Christmas. It dumps about six inches of snow before it leaves and Jisung can’t remember ever having struggled this much to get to work. The snow clouds are silver and black, and they darken New York city a lot more than usual. Everything is suddenly full of metal hues. It’s pretty, but it chills the soul. Trees dress coats of white, the pavement gets slippery and, in some areas, the fluffy white is get-wet-below-the-knee deep.

Hyunjin scolds Jisung (lovingly) for being an idiot going to work at a bar when people don’t want to leave their houses, but whatever. Some people still come. Regulars, mostly. And there’s something to be said about being inside a warm bar, surrounded by alcoholic drinks, serving mulled wine, PG21 hot chocolate, and hot Gin Toddy, to people who walk in with snow on their boots.

When the snowstorm passes, though, New York welcomes a blue sky. Hyunjin smiles brightly when he gets up to take a look out the windows after waking up with the birds (rare), fluffy blankets wrapped around him. And Jisung almost curses at him in all his sleepiness because he knows what that means. Ugh, sleeeeeeeep.

Then again, all it takes is Hyunjin asking nicely in a pout (and a blowjob) to convince Jisung to go with him to Central Park. Jisung even calls Jeongin and Changbin on the way there. And they all agree to meet by the Bethesda Fountain on Bethesda Terrace. It stands between the Lake and the Mall and is completely covered in snow.

While they wait for the others, Hyunjin, in his black beanie, white snow jacket and blue snow pants, scarf tightly wrapped around his neck, takes off his gloves and risks burning his hands in the cold for the sake of pictures. He brought his camera and he’s flashing the thing in every direction. At some point, he points it towards Jisung and, unable to run away and out of view ( feet buried in snow), Jisung just lifts his red gloved fingers and makes a peace sign, puckering his lips for a kissy shot. Hyunjin giggles and gives him a cold nosed kiss on the cheek as reward.

Jisung is also wearing snow clothes. But his are all beige and all chosen by Hyunjin himself. They both look like chunky snowmen, and Jisung kind of loves it. It’s cute. He hadn’t realized until quite recently that he likes being cute as much as he likes being considered hot. Actually, he’s pretty sure he prefers being cute. He’s more confident in that one.

When the others arrive, equally dressed for the snowy weather, they all joke around for a bit, tossing snow at each other. Changbin ends up slipping and burying his ass in a pile of white, and he’s so in there that it takes Jisung and Seungmin to pull him out. Minho obviously loses his shit at this. And damn, he laughs like a demon, especially when Changbin jokes about his own hemorrhoids.

They slowly start making their way to the Mall, the straight, wide pathway running beneath the canopy of huge trees. Usually, they’re green, full and beautiful. Now, they’re naked and covered in ice and snow, looking quite terrifying in their gracefulness. Hyunjin can’t stop taking pictures. Apparently his Instagram is ‘starving’. 

It wouldn’t be a proper wintery hang out if they didn’t end up making it to the Wollman Rink for some outdoor skating in a beautiful setting, surrounded by trees and tall buildings. Hyunjin is really good at skating. Meanwhile, Jisung has never skated before in his life. Apparently, he’s quite the natural, given that after holding Hyunjin’s hand for a couple of minutes he manages to get the hang of it and skate on his own. Hyunjin skates like it’s second nature, apparently having done this a lot as a kid and a teenager. Jeongin on the other hand… the coward just hangs by the side of the rink, laughing at how poorly Changbin is doing. And by the time anyone notices, Minho has already circled around the rink, dabbing as he speeds past Jisung. 

Fine! If this is a competition, Imma win!

In the end, Jisung loses. So, he sulks, obviously, mostly just so he can get Hyunjin to wrap his arms around him and kiss him nonstop. They stay like that for a while, watching all the skaters pass as they just slowly slide their way by the side of the rink together. It’s weird… but nice. Not weird to be here but weird to feel weird being here. These past few months have felt nothing like most of Jisung’s life and while he’s quite grateful for it, he’s also a bit nervous about it. It’s like this isn’t really his life. Like one day he will wake up and feel empty again, meaningless again. Because the truth is that he’s so fucking happy, despite the downs. 

“Thank you for changing my life,” he mutters, breath puffing in the cold air. His cheeks are freezing and he knows that if he were to turn around and kiss Hyunjin’s cheek, his icycle nose would pierce through him. So, he just leans back, head falling against Hyunjin’s shoulder, and hopes his skating blades won’t slide further and make him trip.

Hyunjin squeezes Jisung softly, breathes warm against Jisung’s ear when he says, amongst little kisses, “You, too, baby.”

“You ever,” Jisung chuckles, “You ever get imposter syndrome?”

“In, like, your own life?” Hyunjin laughs softly.

“Yeah… I swear I keep thinking that one day I will wake up and I’ll be back at that shitty gas station I used to love.”

“If you do, I’ll just find you and fall in love all over again.”

Jisung puffs a breath. “Sounds tiring…”

“Right? Jesus .”

Jisung laughs and then pushes away from Hyunjin, turning in a small, clumsy circle to hold both his hands and then just the one, as they keep on skating. “We should bring my mom here, she’d love it.”

Hyunjin smiles, lifting Jisung’s gloved hand enough to twirl under it with a giggle like they’re dancing. “Sounds great. I should warn you, though,” he adds, tilting his head to the side. “Pretty sure that guy is taking pictures of us right now. Blame Rihanna.”

Jisung blinks. Huh? He immediately starts frantically looking around. “Who gave him permission?!” he asks even though he hasn’t spotted the guy.

“The Free Press, I think,” Hyunjin laughs, taking both of Jisung’s gloved hands to get his attention back. 

“Tsk.”

January isn’t as snowy as December but it’s definitely quite icy. After the bold and frigid sleet that manages to freeze Jisung to his bones for days whenever he has to go out, comes more snow, and more ice. The transparent white hugs houses, roads and trees alike. And despite its diamond glow, it starts getting despised by the average New Yorker after only a couple of days. People love snow, overall, but they hate being cold. They hate feeling uncomfortable on their way to work, they hate their uncomfortable jobs, everyone just wants to stay home.

Fashion Week starts a long time before the actual week of modelling. Hyunjin is suddenly so busy that Jisung sort of just watches his life like an in-person vlog. There are fittings and shoots and Hyunjin loses his entire mind when he’s invited to an award show for fashion and modelling (something Daily something Row something). 

Jisung gets to watch a live feed of his boyfriend and soulmate being photographed from every angle, flashing lights everywhere, dressed in beautiful, expensive clothes and looking amazing as he talks to Zendaya. Zen-fucking-daya . And in the end, Hyunjin wins ‘Breakthrough Model’ and nearly cries on stage during his short, adorable acceptance speech, where he thanks photographers and designers and Jisung, ‘for believing in him’. And Jisung nearly cries with him, mid feeling weird because he can’t believe that this is his life now. 

“I have something I want to talk to you about,” Hyunjin mumbles that very same night, when they’re both in bed with Kkami sleeping comfortably by their feet. Once Jisung is looking at him, Hyunjin takes a deep breath and continues, “I think I wanna… tell my story…”

“Your story…?” Jisung questions. “As in…”

“That I was raped,” Hyunjin says, pursing his lips. Jisung sort of flinches for a moment. “A lot… That I was addicted to drugs and nearly died. It’s… awful and I’d feel incredibly vulnerable, but I’d at least be in control of it, you know? That video of me is still out there somewhere, along with pictures and probably even more stuff I don’t even know about, and if it just… came out of nowhere, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it...”

Jisung looks away. “Hm…”

“What do you think..?”

“I… don’t think, really,” Jisung huffs. “I just… Nah, nevermind.” Hyunjin smacks his arm. “Ow! Okay! Fine. I just think that you should consider what you’re going to be facing instead…” Jisung mutters, rubbing where Hyunjin hit him with a pout. “You know what people think, you know how shit works, the media, the internet…”

“Exactly,” Hyunjin says, shifting softly to kiss where he’d smacked Jisung.

“They’re gonna question you for…” Jisung closes his mouth. “Nobody gives two shits about who we have sex with until it’s to make a story out of it. They’re gonna try to make you feel like shit because…” He doesn’t know how to word it, but he’s seen it happen before, with other people who were celebrities or of medium importance. Things always get twisted around for the sake of stories and...

“At least I’ll be able to say my part before things get spread around,” Hyunjin mumbles.

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung huffs.

“It’s gonna suck no matter what,” Hyunjin huffs, too.

“Do you think you can do it, though…?”

Hyunjin nibbles at his bottom lip. He’s been completely clean for months , without even bringing up drugs or mentioning having any sort of craving. Yes, sometimes they smoke some weed (courtesy of Minho), but other than that? It’s not a shadow looming over them, the way Jisung had assumed it would be, but it still feels like Jisung needs to look over his shoulder occasionally, just to make sure it’s not chasing them. 

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, voice small. “For… everyone else like me out there… For the people that hate themselves because they blame themselves when they shouldn’t. Maybe if I’d seen something like that, I wouldn’t have been so hard on myself...”

Jisung looks at him properly, not really aware of what he’s feeling right now. He smiles, though, just a little. When I thought you could fly, I didn’t mean ‘this high’ but… “Yeah… Although… You’re gonna make a lot of our friends feel like shit,” Jisung mutters, looking away. 

“They didn’t know what to look for,” Hyunjin smiles small. “It’s not their fault…”

“Maybe,” Jisung agrees. It was my fault, though. Maybe not twice, but that one time… “I’ll feel like shit…”

Hyunjin pouts. “We’ve talked about this, Jisungie… It’s okay, really…”

“No, it’s not,” Jisung mumbles. “But that’s part of it. So… if you wanna tell your story, do it. But tell all of it. The point is that people should feel like shit for never noticing, or for closing a blind eye. The point is that those who did what they did should feel ashamed of it. Everyone is gonna make it wanna look like it was all your fault because that will absolve them so… don’t let them.”

Hyunjin looks all over Jisung’s face, smiling small as he nods. “Alright,” he says, leaning closer to give Jisung a squishy kiss on his lips. “Thanks for supporting me…”

Jisung peeks at him and then leans away. His pants are on the floor so he reaches for them from the bed and digs into one of his pockets to pull out the ring his mother gave him a couple of days ago. “If you’re doing this, though,” Jisung huffs, slumping back in place and immediately taking Hyunjin’s hand. “You’re gonna need this,” he says, sliding the golden ring down Hyunjin’s ring finger, the cluster of crystals shining in the low light.

“Oh,” Hyunjin goes, pouting at the ring. “Oh, it’s so pretty…”

“It was my mother’s,” Jisung mumbles, making Hyunjin pout even more. 

“I’ll take good care of it, thank you,” Hyunjin says, attacking Jisung’s face with kisses again.

Jisung lets himself be nearly devoured by nibbles and bites, and then pushes Hyunjin away just to say, “Actually, you should write a book!”

Hyunjin laughs. “Watch me publish that notebook of mine, your part included.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Have you… read it…?”

Hyunjin smiles, suddenly looking cheeky. “Yeah… Many times…”

“Gross,” Jisung scoffs, looking away.

“And what would I call this book of mine, hm?”

Jisung looks at the ceiling for a moment and then huffs. “Hm…”

“‘How to fuck up your life in a hundred pages’?”

“Ah ah.”

“What then?”

“Liability.”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, amused but not exactly saying ‘no’. “Like the Lorde song..?”

“Definitely like the Lorde song.”