Chapter Text
Sion’s fingers moved deftly across the keyboard. His eyes were glued to the screen as his champion weaved through the Rift in League of Legends. “Their bot lane’s overextended,” he said into his headset, voice calm and focused. “I’m going in.”
“You’d better not mess this up, hyung!” Sakuya replied frantically from the other end. Though they were in separate rooms, the usual tension of competitive play was unmistakable in his tone.
“Relax,” Sion grinned to himself. “I’ve got this.”
He initiated a flawless play, diving into the enemy duo and securing a kill before retreating with a sliver of health. Sakuya’s voice crackled through his headset, approval evident in his tone. “That’s so cool, hyung!”
Sion was about to reply when the bedroom door creaked open. Out of habit, he flicked his gaze toward it—and immediately regretted it.
Yushi stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but Sion’s oversized white tee. The hem barely brushed mid-thigh, the loose fit draping artfully over his lean frame, and the neckline dipped low enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his collarbone. He looked casual, almost innocent—but the curve of his lips hinted at something else, something mischievous.
Sion blinked, his focus splintering as heat rushed to his cheeks. “Uh—hey, Yushi,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
Yushi tilted his head, stepping into the room with a soft, fluid motion. “Hey,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet intimacy as he shut the door behind him. “What are you up to?”
“Playing with Sakuya,” Sion mumbled, his attention snapping back to the game. He tried to shake off the heat creeping up his neck. Focus, focus.
“Oh?” Yushi sauntered closer, his bare feet padding quietly against the floor. “What are you playing?”
“League,” Sion replied, his voice a touch too casual. His champion was mid-fight, and he leaned forward, determined to maintain control of the match. “It’s a ranked game. Pretty intense.”
“Sounds fun,” Yushi hummed thoughtfully, leaning against the desk next to Sion. There was something in his voice now, a playfulness that made Sion’s stomach flutter. “Do you think you can play with me next?”
“You—” Sion stuttered, a lump forming in his throat. “You want to play league with me?”
“Among other things.” Yushi smirked, leaning closer, his breath warm against the side of Sion’s neck.
Sion laughed nervously, his hand tightening on the mouse. “Let me just—let me finish this game first with Sakuya, okay? You can—you can create your account while waiting.”
Yushi shifted, sitting on the edge of the desk, the hem of the shirt riding up slightly as he moved. Sion’s eyes darted downward, catching a flash of Yushi’s smooth flawless thighs. He quickly looked away, his pulse quickening.
“Sion-hyung,” Yushi began, his voice soft and teasing, “Do you think your hands are as good off the keyboard as they are on it?”
Sion choked, quickly muting his mic. “Yushi,” he hissed, his face burning. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What?” Yushi said innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. “I’m just curious,”
Sion groans internally as he tries his best to focus on the game and not on the huge devilish distraction that is Yushi. “I’m serious, Yushi. Knock it off,” He spits out before unmuting himself just in time to hear Sakuya’s annoyed voice.
“Hyung! What are you doing?!” Sakuya snapped through the mic. “We’re losing control of mid.”
“On it,” Sion said hastily, diving back into the match. He tried to ignore Yushi, who now moves behind him, one hand resting lightly on the back of his chair.
“Do you ever get tired of playing?” Yushi asked, his voice feigning curiosity as he starts caressing Sion’s shoulders. “Doesn’t it get boring?”
“No,” Sion said firmly, trying to ignore the warmth of Yushi’s hands.
Yushi hummed again, the sound vibrating with mischief. “You could be doing something a lot more exciting right now.”
Sion’s heart pounded, but he forced himself to focus on the game. “Yushi,” he muttered. “I’m serious.”
“C’mon, hyung.” Yushi leaned down, his breath warm against Sion’s ear.
“You’re being unfair right now.” Sion whispered through gritted teeth, muting his mic again.
“Hmm.” Yushi’s hand slipped to Sion’s chest. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Sion’s heart pounded at the slightest of Yushi’s touch, making him miss crucial skill shot. “Yushi, stop. I’m in the middle of a game.”
Seeing how flustered Sion is getting, a sneaky smile paints itself on his face. “And I’m in the middle of this one.” he purrs quietly.
Sion groaned as he mutes himself again before getting up and fully turning to face his boyfriend. “Yushi, you know we can’t—”
“We can!” Yushi cut in, his voice sharper now, his frustration simmering. “I’m fine, Sion. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t okay already.”
Sion turned, his gaze locking with Yushi’s. He could feel the weight of his words, the intensity in his eyes. His heart raced, but guilt clawed at him. “I just—I can’t stop thinking about what happened. What if—”
“What if nothing?” Yushi interrupted, his voice firm but tinged with frustration. “You’re so afraid of what happened last time that you’re letting it control you. You’re letting it control us.”
Sion was about to say something back, but Yushi cut him off, his frustration bubbling over. “Do you think I haven’t noticed? The nights you stay up late after I’ve gone to bed. You think I wouldn’t notice you?”
Sion’s face went pale, the guilt gnawing at him like a constant ache. “Yushi, I—”
“You were jerking off alone, Sion,” Yushi said bluntly, his eyes blazing. “You’re scared to touch me, but you’re not scared to do that? Do you know how that makes me feel?”
Sion recoiled, the weight of Yushi’s words crashing over him like a wave. “I didn’t mean—” He tried to speak, but nothing came out. The guilt twisted in his chest, suffocating him.
“You didn’t mean to, but you did,” Yushi snapped. His voice trembled with the emotion he’d been holding in for too long. “I’m here, Sion. I’m right here, and I want you. But you’d rather push me away and wallow in your own fear.”
Sion stood frozen, his hands clenched into fists, as Yushi’s words echoed in his mind. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. “I’m sorry. I just—I don’t want to hurt you again.”
Yushi’s expression softened, but the hurt in his eyes remained. “You’re not protecting me, Sion. You’re hiding from me. And I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”
Without another word, Yushi turned and walked toward the door, his steps heavy with frustration. “Enjoy your game,” he said coldly, his tone final.
The door clicked shut behind him, and Sion was left in the deafening silence of the room. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands trembled as he unmuted his mic.
Sion stared after him, his stomach churning. Sakuya’s voice broke through his headset. “You’re throwing, Sion. What’s going on?”
Sion unmuted with a heavy sigh. “I need a break.”
He logged out of the game, leaning back in his chair as the silence of the room closed in. Yushi’s words echoed in his mind, each one hitting harder than the last:
You’re not protecting me. You’re hiding from me.
***
Doyoung’s movements were frantic, his thighs burning as he rode Soohyuk with a rhythm that was almost punishing in its urgency. His breath came in shallow, erratic gasps, each exhale trembling as if he were holding himself together by sheer will. His fingers curled into Soohyuk’s broad shoulder, nails digging in just enough to leave faint crescents against his flushed skin.
“Fuck, hyung, I can’t—I need more,” Doyoung gasped, his voice thin and broken yet so desperate for relief, making him unwilling to stop. His entire body trembled as he chased that overwhelming high, every muscle taut with tension. “You’re so big, it’s too much—no, hyung please, it feels so fucking good.”
Doyoung’s hands clawed Soohyuk’s chest, his nails digging in as he fought to control the overwhelming sensation. “It’s too much—fuck, I can’t—no, it’s too deep, but I—shit—don’t stop,” he choked out, his voice a mix of need and frustration. Despite the almost painful stretch, Doyoung’s body refused to slow, his hips slamming down with reckless urgency. The sheer size of Soohyuk filled him so completely, it pushed him to the brink of insanity, but it was exactly what he craved. “I need it, hyung. I can’t stop, I’m so fucking full, it feels— it feels so good,” Doyoung moaned, his breath ragged as he tried to keep up, each movement sending another wave of fire through his body.
The city lights spilling through the windows illuminated the slick sheen of sweat glistening on his chest and neck, every labored movement painting him in streaks of gold and shadow. “Fuck—baby,” Soohyuk says warningly before shifting beneath Doyoung, forcing himself to reach deeper.
Doyoung’s breath hitched as the sudden change in position hit him harder than before, the stretch of Soohyuk’s size sending a jolt of mixed pleasure and pain straight to his core. “Oh—fuck, hyung!” he gasped, his voice cracking with the intensity. His hips jerked, struggling to adjust to the deeper, all-consuming feeling.
“Shit, don’t—don’t do that, hyung, it’s—no—it’s too deep!” Doyoung’s chest heaved, his entire body trembling as he fought to regain control, but every inch of Soohyuk inside of him was driving him mad. The pressure was almost too much, but the addicting burn had him rocking faster, chasing that feeling that was only getting more intense.
Despite the pain, Doyoung’s hips slammed down harder, faster, against Soohyuk, trying to take as much as he could. His thighs quivered as he fought to keep up the brutal rhythm. His entire body was shaking but he couldn’t care less. The deep stretch, the friction, the way Soohyuk filled him completely—it had him unraveling, unable to think of anything except the overwhelming need for release.
Soohyuk’s eyes went wild as he drank in every detail of Doyoung on top of him—the way his body moved and bounced, the faint hitch in his breath every time Soohyuk met him with a thrust. “God, Doyoung, so fucking tight,” Soohyuk groaned, his voice guttural and wrecked, his hands gripping Doyoung’s hips with bruising force. “Just like that, baby—just like that. Fuck—you’re taking me so fucking well.”
Doyoung let out a soft, broken cry, his head tipping back as he leaned forward, his hands sliding down Soohyuk’s chest. His movements faltered for a split second, the overwhelming heat in his body making it almost impossible to continue. Soohyuk growled low in his throat, his fingers digging deeper into Doyoung’s waist as he bucked his hips upward, meeting him halfway. “Come on,” Soohyuk urged, his tone rough and commanding. “Think you can handle more, Doyoung?” Soohyuk's voice was steady, a hint of dark amusement in his words. “I know you want it. Let me see if you can take it.”
“No—hyung!” The force of Soohyuk’s thrusts stole the air from Doyoung’s lungs, each one sending a shockwave through his overstimulated body. His head tipped back, a strangled cry escaping his lips as his entire body shuddered. The overwhelming stretch, the unrelenting pace—it was all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.
The way Soohyuk’s breathing is becoming more labored by the second ignited something in Doyoung, and he pushed himself harder, riding Soohyuk with a desperation that bordered on reckless. Every thrust, every sharp inhale, felt like a plea for release, his body trembling under the strain of holding himself at the edge. “Soohyuk-hyung,” Doyoung choked out, his voice raw and pleading, his eyes fluttering shut as his body arched in search of that final push.
“So pretty, so fucking pretty,” Soohyuk said, his tone dripping with reverence and madness. His hands roamed up Doyoung’s sides before sliding back down to grip his thighs, pulling him even closer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” His words spilled out like a prayer, low and fervent, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
Doyoung’s body tensed, every muscle wound tight as Soohyuk’s relentless thrusts drove him to the brink. His breath caught in his throat, and the sheer force of each deep, animalistic motion tore a desperate, broken moan from his lips. His nails dug into Soohyuk’s chest, scratching blindly as he clung to him for stability, unable to stop the tremors that rocked his entire frame.
The pressure that was building inside him became unbearable, and with a final, fevered cry of “Hyung!” his body convulsed, surrendering to the overwhelming rush of pleasure that surged through him, drowning everything else out.
“Fuck,” Soohyuk’s heart pounded in his chest as Doyoung’s tight, trembling walls clenched around him, sending a pulse of heat through his entire body. His vision blurred, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them, a chaotic rush of heat and sensation that consumed him whole.
Soohyuk’s grip tightened on Doyoung’s thighs, his body shaking with the effort to hold back as he neared the edge. With one last powerful thrust, he stilled, his head thrown back as a guttural moan tore from his chest.
The feeling of Doyoung’s walls tightening around him pushed him to the brink, and he couldn’t hold on any longer. He released, flooding Doyoung’s insides with a sharp, scorching heat.
Soohyuk’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body shuddering as he emptied himself completely, each pulse a wave of intense satisfaction that swept over him like an explosion. His hands gripped Doyoung tighter, desperate to anchor himself as the world spun around them, his mind consumed by the raw, overwhelming sensation of complete and utter bliss.
It took a couple minutes before the high finally subsided, Doyoung slumped forward, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps against Soohyuk’s. His skin was flushed and damp, a mess of sweat and satisfaction. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room the faint hum of the city outside and their labored breathing.
Soohyuk’s hands remained on Doyoung’s hips, his touch firm yet gentle, grounding them both. He let out a low chuckle, his voice still thick with pleasure. “I need to thank whoever pissed you off,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Doyoung’s temple. “Because I think my entire life just flashed before my eyes a minute ago.”
Doyoung groaned, sitting up and brushing his hair back. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered, the faintest smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
Soohyuk’s hands rested lightly on Doyoung’s waist, his thumbs grazing the curve of his hips in a motion that felt both absentminded and possessive. His head tilted back against the headboard as he closed his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “I can’t feel my legs.” he murmured, his voice deep and hoarse with satisfaction.
Doyoung let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he gingerly lifted himself off Soohyuk. His legs trembled, and he winced slightly, steadying himself as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know why you’re complaining when I did most of the work” he muttered, reaching for his shirt from where it had been flung across the room.
Soohyuk chuckled lowly, his eyes glinting with amusement as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Complaining?” he repeated, smirking. “I’m just catching my breath, baby. I’ll show you what it really means to do all the work next time.”
Doyoung rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that crept across his lips. He began to dress, but the process felt clumsy, his movements still unsteady. As he pulled on his pants, he winced and cursed under his breath, feeling the slow leak of Soohyuk’s seed dripping down his legs, making him momentarily self-conscious.
The sensation made his stomach churn slightly, and his body seemed to protest, aching and overstimulated from their earlier intensity. He tugged at his pants, trying to pull them up properly, but the discomfort was undeniable, and his thighs felt sticky from the remnants of their connection.
Soohyuk propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze following Doyoung’s every movement. “You don’t have to go,” Soohyuk said, his tone light but with a lingering edge of sincerity. “Stay. It’s late, and I’ve got more than enough room here.”
Doyoung froze, his fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. The suggestion hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Stay. It was a word they both knew carried weight because staying meant something, and that terrified him.
“I—” Doyoung’s voice faltered as he turned back to face Soohyuk. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his posture gave him away. “Do you want me to stay over?”
“If I said I wanted you to stay, would you?” Soohyuk said smoothly, his tone lacking any trace of pressure. He shifted to sit upright, the sheets pooling around his waist.
Doyoung's gaze flickered downward, his fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt as his mind swirled with thoughts he wasn’t ready to face. A part of him still clung to unwavering possibility of him and Jaehyun, the dream of what could have been. But the ache that came with it was all too familiar. The thought of staying away from it all, of moving on, even if just for tonight, stirred something deep within him.
But there was Soohyuk, sitting there, offering something different. Something real. Doyoung swallowed, his mouth dry as he fought the tightness in his chest. He couldn’t keep clinging to ghosts, not when someone is right in front of him. It wasn’t fair to Soohyuk, and it wasn’t fair to himself.
The silence between them stretched, filled only by the soft rustle of fabric as Doyoung finally dropped the shirt back onto the floor. He exhaled, trying to steady his thoughts, his heart pounding in his chest.
“I—” His voice faltered again, but this time he didn’t turn away. He didn’t have an answer ready, but he knew, deep down, what the right thing to do was. “I’ll stay.”
The words felt like a wash of relief, a choice that, despite its many uncertainty, felt like a step forward. Doyoung sat down on the edge of the bed, glancing at Soohyuk, the quiet understanding between them settling like a soft blanket. It wasn’t perfect, and maybe it wasn’t the closure he had once hoped for, but it was his choice. For the first time in a long while, Doyoung allowed himself to consider that maybe—just maybe—he could find peace with what was right in front of him.
Soohyuk's expression shifted, his eyes widening slightly in surprise before softening into a smile that was both warm and genuine. He hadn’t expected Doyoung to stay, and the sincerity of the moment made his chest tighten with an emotion he wasn’t used to showing so openly. There was a quiet joy in his gaze, a mix of relief and something else—something more tender—that made Doyoung’s heart flutter.
"C’mere," Soohyuk said, his voice low and steady, but there was a lightness to it, as if the decision to stay had filled a gap between them that hadn’t been there before. He reached out, his hand brushing against Doyoung’s arm in an almost subconscious gesture, a silent acknowledgment of the step they’d just taken.
Doyoung, caught off guard by the softness in Soohyuk’s actions, felt something shift inside him. It wasn’t an overwhelming rush like he would usually feel with Jaehyun, but a quiet understanding, a sense of contentment that settled over him. He wasn’t sure where this would lead, but he finally allowed himself to exhale, as if something had been lifted—not just the weight of his past, but the weight of wondering whether he was capable of moving forward at all.
***
The low hum of Soohyuk’s car filled the quiet morning air as it glided to a stop in front of Doyoung’s apartment complex. Sunlight filtered through the windshield, casting a golden glow on their faces. Soohyuk leaned back in the driver’s seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel as he turned to Doyoung, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“You sure you don’t want me to carry you up?” Soohyuk asked, his voice laced with playful amusement. “You’ve been wincing the entire ride.”
Doyoung shot him a sharp glance, though the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “It’s your fault I’m sore in the first place,” he retorted, adjusting the strap of his bag.
Soohyuk’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping just enough to make Doyoung’s breath hitch. “Whose idea was it to have sex first thing in the morning again?”
Doyoung rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”
Soohyuk chuckled, his laugh low and rich. “I never said I didn’t” he said, leaning closer. “In fact, I enjoyed it so much I can go for round four here in the car.”
Doyoung felt the heat rush to his cheeks and quickly turned away, fumbling with the door handle. “I’m leaving before you start getting ideas,” he mutters playfully.
Soohyuk caught his wrist gently before he could step out, pulling him back just enough for a soft, lingering kiss. When they pulled apart, Soohyuk’s thumb brushed against Doyoung’s cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay?” he promised, his voice softer now, the teasing edge replaced with something more tender.
Doyoung nodded, a warm “Okay,” slipping from his lips before stepping out of the car. He watched as Soohyuk’s sleek vehicle disappeared around the corner, leaving him alone in the tranquility of the morning.
Turning toward the building entrance, he let the quiet of the early hour settle over him. His steps echoed softly against the polished marble floor, his reflection flickering in the glass doors ahead. The lingering heat in his cheeks from Soohyuk’s parting words and teasing smirk clung to him, stubbornly refusing to fade even as the chill of the elevator enveloped him.
When the elevator dinged softly, Doyoung stepped out onto his floor, a faint ache in his thighs and lower back making him wince. As he reached his apartment door, he fished his keys out of his bag, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet hallway. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside, the familiar scent of his home greeting him. He let out a sigh, the kind that came from a mixture of exhaustion and contentment before closing the door behind him.
The apartment was still, the kind of stillness that suggested nothing out of place. Doyoung’s mind was already on autopilot—thinking of a hot shower and clean clothes—when he slipped off his shoes and padded toward the living room.
His hands reached for the hem of his sweater, tugging it up and over his head. The fabric slipped off, leaving his neck and collarbone exposed to the cool air. It wasn’t until he let out a soft exhale, the sweater falling from his hands, that his gaze flicked upward—and froze.
Jaehyun was lying on his couch, still and silent, his body tucked into the corner as if he’d been there for hours.
For a moment, Doyoung didn’t move, unsure if his tired mind was playing tricks on him. The dim light filtering through the curtains cast soft shadows across Jaehyun’s features, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. Doyoung took a hesitant step closer, his bare feet silent against the floor, and then another.
“Jaehyun?” Doyoung’s voice was a whisper, almost hesitant, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile stillness between them.
The sound must have stirred Jaehyun, because his lashes fluttered, and his eyes opened slowly, their unfocused gaze adjusting to the figure in front of him. His breath caught when he registered the state Doyoung is in right now.
Standing in front of him was Doyoung with sleep-ruffled hair, neck and collarbone marked with faint bruises that stood out against his pale skin.
Jaehyun didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered briefly to Doyoung’s neck—and the marks. Hickeys, faintly bruised and scattered like a constellation across his pale skin.
Something in Jaehyun cracked, but it wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet, an internal shattering he didn’t let show. His expression remained composed, his lips pressed into a faint line, but his hands tightened ever so slightly, his knuckles white against the couch’s fabric.
“I—” Doyoung started, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer.
“Sorry,” Jaehyun cut him off, his voice soft but strained. He straightened, forcing a small, almost imperceptible smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t mean to stay this long. I just—I wanted to talk to you.”
Doyoung blinked, his confusion evident. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Jaehyun’s gaze dropped, lingering on the floor for a moment before returning to Doyoung. “I didn’t think you’d answer,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of his regret. “Not after last night.”
Doyoung stepped closer, his sweater slipping from his hand to the floor. “Jaehyun—”
“It’s fine,” Jaehyun interrupted again, standing up abruptly. The motion was controlled but quick, as if he couldn’t bear to stay seated any longer. He brushed past Doyoung, careful not to let their shoulders touch, and grabbed his phone from the table. “I’m just going to go.”
“Wait,” Doyoung turned to follow him, his chest tightening at the sight of Jaehyun’s retreating figure. “You said you wanted to talk—”
Jaehyun paused at the door, his back to Doyoung. His hand lingered on the doorknob, his shoulders tense. For a moment, it looked like he might say something, but instead, he shook his head.
“Not anymore,” Jaehyun said softly, his voice nearly breaking on the last word.
Once door clicked shut behind him, leaving Doyoung alone in the apartment, Jaehyun did not stop. His feet moved on autopilot, carrying him down the hallway with brisk, unsteady steps. His mind was a blur, the edges of his vision narrowing as a singular thought consumed him—get out.
He needed to put as much space between him and Doyoung as possible.
The air felt suffocating, heavy with everything he couldn’t say, and the distance between him and the elevator suddenly felt like an eternity. He reached the elevator with trembling fingers, stabbing at the button harder than necessary.
The elevator doors opening quickly was a relief he didn’t deserve, and he stepped inside without a second glance. His reflection in the mirrored walls looked as disheveled as he felt, but he didn’t care.
The elevator doors closed with a soft hum, enclosing Jaehyun in a sterile, quiet space. He leaned heavily against the wall, his head tipping back as he struggled to catch his breath. The image of Doyoung—his flushed skin, the faint bruises trailing his neck—was burned into his mind.
His jaw clenched, the ache in his chest spreading like wildfire. He had waited all night, rehearsing the words he wanted to say, only to be confronted with the unmistakable truth. Someone else had touched Doyoung. Someone else had kissed him, left marks on him—marks that Jaehyun had no right to erase.
His hands curled into fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms as the elevator descended floor by floor. The moment the doors slid open, he stepped out quickly, his feet carrying him outside before he even realized it.
Jaehyun barely made it to the side of the building before the emotions he’d been holding back erupted. With a sharp, guttural exhale, he slammed his fist against the brick wall, the impact reverberating up his arm. Pain flared instantly, but it did nothing to dull the searing ache in his chest.
He punched the wall again, harder this time, a ragged sound tearing from his throat. His breaths came fast and uneven, his vision blurring as tears he could no longer suppress began to fall.
Sliding down against the wall, Jaehyun buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as silent sobs wracked his body. The weight of everything—his mistakes, his jealousy, his helplessness—pressed down on him until he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t anger that consumed him now; it was sorrow. Deep, unrelenting sorrow.
He hated himself for letting things get to this point, for waiting too long to tell Doyoung how he felt. He hated that his apology, the one he’d spent hours rehearsing, felt meaningless now.
As his tears fell freely, Jaehyun reached for his phone with trembling fingers. He unlocked it, his thumb hovering over his contacts. His vision was too blurred to read the names properly, but he didn’t need to.
He typed a message quickly, his fingers shaking as he hit send.
Staring at the sent message, Jaehyun let out a bitter laugh that turned into a choked sob. This wasn’t moving on. This wasn’t fixing anything. But he didn’t know what else to do.
Do you have Sung Hanbin’s number?