Chapter Text
His eyes are bloodshot, his cheeks splotchy. The jacket he’s wearing is crooked, so much so it’s second nature for the younger to set his coffee down, stepping closer to fix the collar.
Hyunjin takes an instinctive step back, and they pause, awkward.
Felix’s hands drop to his sides, hiding the sudden shake by hiding in his pockets. “Hey.”
“Morning.”
They speak at the same time, but the elder’s voice holds none of the usual inflections.
“Are you okay?”
Hyunjin shrugs. The tip of his nose is red, and Felix had assumed it was from the cold. Now, he’s rethinking. Was it from crying? But why would Hyunjin be…
“Can we talk?” He says at the same time as Hyunjin also speaks.
“I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
Silence, and this time the world spins a little. Felix’s fingernails dig into the fragile skin of his palms, leaving crescents. “What.” He says weakly, blinking.
“I—I don’t know.” His eyes follow the elder’s hand as it tugs at his hair, a sign of frustration he knows all too well. “I’ve just been thinking, I guess. It might be better.”
“Better…” He can’t help but echo. It feels a little like when Hyunjin first crashed into his life, what seemed like lifetimes ago, back when he’d taught him what a beach was and why the two days off he has during the week are called the weekend. Dragons and flowers. Colors.
And now that same man gazes back at him, apology in his eyes and dried tears stuck to his eyelashes.
“Let’s talk.” He surprises himself with how stable his voice is. The coffee cup he grabs no longer feels hot enough, no longer burns his fingers as he holds something, anything.
“L-let’s not.” Hyunjin backs away like he’s been burned, so fast he almost trips, eyes wide and scared.
And Felix sees it. Recognizes the string that’s unwinding, the direction his thoughts had taken him. It feels reminiscent, almost like staring into a mirror and seeing his younger self.
But while he had Hyunjin, Hyunjin has…
Oh. Hyunjin has him.
The realization takes less than a moment, and it’s too fast for the elder to see the decision on his face, the firmness in his eyes. It’s all too fast, so he’s caught completely offguard when the blond takes his hand and leads him out of the cafe, towards a car he recognizes at the end of the street, pulled over to the curb.
“How’s Innie?” He asks, instead of addressing the elephant in the room.
Hyunjin screws his eyes shut. “Dont.”
Shrugging, he pops the passenger side door open.
To his relief, Hyunjin gets in, sinking down in the seat.
Walking around to the driver’s side, there’s almost a skip in his step. The nervousness, the buzzing itch under his skin of excitement , because no matter the circumstances he hadn’t seen the elder in a while. But also hurt, because how could he help it, how could he not worry about the sudden switch up?
And throughout it all; hope.
“So.” He says, trying to keep his voice upbeat as he slides into the car and closes the door behind him. “Let’s try that again. Long time no see, hyung. How’s it going?”
There’s an unimpressed look on the other’s face. His hands run through his hair, pulling it back so hard it must hurt, the skin turning red and then white under the pressure.
But Felix waits. He’s good at that; waiting.
Finally, Hyunjin speaks.
It’s a broken, raspy voice that speaks of many sleepless nights and oceans of self-doubt.
“How can you just… take this?”
“Take what?” He tries to be neutral, to keep his hand from reaching across the space between them and comforting his boyfriend.
“The City.”
“Oh.”
“At the end of the day – everything is fake. Your obsessions, your emotions. Loves and hates. They mean nothing, because when it’s all over, you’re still alone when you open your eyes. Those people we see on our flashing screens will be just as far away when we wake up. Those photographs we keep are still just pieces of paper. No matter how much we love the memories, the past won’t come back alive.”
It’s all coming out in a rush, almost too fast to keep up with.
“How much of what we know is actually true? Is there anything behind the way I look at you, the way I love you? Is there substance behind my thoughts? Is the music I hear really meaningful, or has the meaning been just imagined?”
“What do you do, when you look up one day and realize that the world is empty? It holds nothing. There isn’t a thing out there that is real. Everything that you do, everything that entertains you – it all relies on your imagination, on your delusions. Even I, as an artist, am fake. So what, then, is real? Is pain real?”
His hands brush over his bracelets, fingers playing with the little sharp charms, pressing down, letting go, like the delicate dance of a skater across the fragile ice.
“I hate those moments of consciousness, hate how alone and confused I feel. Hate how everything loses meaning. I want to go back to the sweet oblivion of delusions and fake happiness. Please. I never asked for this.”
And when he finally breaks down, when the tears roll down his face and his shoulders shake hard enough to rock the car, it’s only then that he looks up at Felix, his eyes meeting the blond’s.
“I’m sorry.” He says, his voice a whisper. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“Everything’s okay.” He repeats, more forcibly. “Hyung, it’s fine.”
He reaches for the other now, takes his hands in his. Watches how they tremble.
“I get it.” He says again, gentler. “I understand.”
Their fingers twine together. Squeeze.
“We can figure it out together. The real parts.”
When they kiss, it’s soft and tastes of tears, and a little like hope.
._.