Paring: Johnny x female reader, past Jaehyun x reader
Summary: With all the planning for your wedding coming up, everything feels like it is going right. Soon, you and Johnny will be happily married and all that is left to do is to wait. But what happens when Jaehyun shows up out of the blue?
Part 1
Warnings: mentions of cheating, none others that I can think of but let me know
Word count (part two): 7.8k
This is not proofread so let me know about any errors!!
“Are you sure you got the address right?” you ask.
It is the day before the wedding, and Johnny disappeared, only sending a quick text saying something came up. An hour and a half later, he sent you a text telling you and Jaehyun to come meet him at an address.
Jaehyun nods his head. “Yeah.”
“Johhny?” you call, opening the door to the room. You feel around the wall for the light switch, jumping when you’re met with a chorus of “thank yous.”
You stare in shock at the smiling faces of Johnn’s family and friends standing under a ceiling of gold and blue balloons. You smile at the colors, instantly recognizing your favorite colors. Standing in front of them is Johnny.
“What is this?”
“Let me show you,” Johnny smiles, holding his hand out to you.
You take it, letting him guide you to his mom and dad.
Paring: Johnny x female reader, past Jaehyun x reader
Summary: With all the planning for your wedding coming up, everything feels like it is going right. Soon, you and Johnny will be happily married and all that is left to do is to wait. But what happens when Jaehyun shows up out of the blue?
Part 1
Warnings: mentions of cheating, none others that I can think of but let me know
Word count (part two): 7.8k
This is not proofread so let me know about any errors!!
“Are you sure you got the address right?” you ask.
It is the day before the wedding, and Johnny disappeared, only sending a quick text saying something came up. An hour and a half later, he sent you a text telling you and Jaehyun to come meet him at an address.
Jaehyun nods his head. “Yeah.”
“Johhny?” you call, opening the door to the room. You feel around the wall for the light switch, jumping when you’re met with a chorus of “thank yous.”
You stare in shock at the smiling faces of Johnn's family and friends standing under a ceiling of gold and blue balloons. You smile at the colors, instantly recognizing your favorite colors. Standing in front of them is Johnny.
“What is this?”
“Let me show you,” Johnny smiles, holding his hand out to you.
You take it, letting him guide you to his mom and dad.
“Y/n, dear,” his mom starts, smiling at you as if you were her own child. “It has been a pleasure getting to know you. I always enjoy our lunches when you visit or we come to see you. I remember when Johnny called me, telling me he met the best girl and needed ideas for an interesting first date.”
You laugh softly, looking over to the man in question, lightly squeezing his hand.
“And after going through some ideas, we landed on a winery tour. Had I known you don’t drink, I never would have suggested it, so I am sorry about that. But I wouldn’t trade the outcome for all the money in the world. My dear, you make my son so happy. As a mother, I thank you for accompanying our son on this journey.”
Before you can say anything, your fiancé lightly pulls you to the next person.
“Hey, y/n,” Mark says. You smile widely at him; the serious look on his face feels out of place. “You wouldn’t know this, but the first time I saw you was actually by the Statue of Liberty. Hyung told me he was dating this girl who was a part-time tour guide who gave German tours of the Statue of Liberty. I asked to meet you way before I actually did, and he told me no and that it would be creepy to stalk you on one of your tours. So I asked this boy in my German class, YangYang, to come with me, and we waited until you came by with a group. I asked him what you said on your tours and how you seemed personality-wise. I remember he called me an idiot. Nevertheless, he went along with me and said you made the tour sound interesting by slipping in jokes and even singing a popular german song at some point. Anyways, long story short, thank you for making my brother so happy and for showing me the kindness of a sister.”
You bring a hand to your mouth, feeling tears well in your eyes at the sincerity in his voice. Again, before you can say anything back, Johnny pulls you to the next and last person.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
She smiles. “No, we haven’t. My name is Dylan. John and I went to the same high school; we were friends all four years. So you can imagine—randomly meeting him here in Brooklyn—it felt like fate. When I saw him, we exchanged numbers, and I asked him on a date. He turned me down because he ‘met the girl of his dreams.’ And I will admit, it is a little nerve-wracking to stand here in front of your family and friends. But when John texted me asking if I would come here to convince you you are the love of his life, I couldn’t exactly say no.”
You laugh, happy tears falling from your eyes.
“And now, it’s my turn,” Johnny whispers, moving to stand in front of you. Still holding your hand, he clears his throat dramatically. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you whisper, not trusting yourself to speak much louder.
“Now, at risk of spoiling my vows, I’m not going to say much more than what they said. I am sorry I’ve been gone so much the past week, but I did get you a few things.”
He lets go of your hand and turns to grab something behind him. “This,” he says, turning around, “is a bottle from the year we visited the winery. Now I promise not to drink it if you don’t.”
You laugh, fanning your eyes. “I promise.”
“Great!” He places the bottle on the counter behind him and grabs something else. “This is a postcard from Ellis Island, where we had our first proper conversation. I’m thinking, we frame this, and it be our first piece of art.”
You reach out to take the postcard, running your fingers over the front. “I love it.”
“And this,” he bends down on one knee, pulling out your engagement ring from his pocket, “is my gift to you. This is the start of our promise. My promise. That every day of my life will be about repaying you for all the joy you have brought me.”
You don’t know if he is done speaking when you throw yourself onto him. He laughs as he lowers you both into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you and lightly kissing your head. “Are you going to accept my proposal, or is this about to get really awkward?”
Pulling away from him, you sit between his legs, wiping your tears. “Is that even a question that needs to be said?”
He shakes his head, grabbing your left hand and gently sliding the ring back onto your finger, whispering a soft, “back where it belongs.”
“Okay, everyone,” he announces, not moving up from the floor. “I’ve made reservations for us in about an hour. Sadly, we cannot pay for everyone as we are planning a wedding. So if you don’t want to pay, that’s cool, but we would love to have dinner with you before the stress of the rehearsals. I already sent you all the address, so Suh squad, move out!”
Everyone chuckles, talking among themselves as they file out the door, leaving only you, Johnny, and Jaehyun—who you forgot was in the room—behind.
“Where are we?”
“This is the air b&b I rented for Yoonoh and me to sleep in tonight. The owner said no one was staying in it before us, so she said I could show up whenever. I took 'show up whenever' to mean spending an hour setting up and executing a surprise for my lovely fiancée. Figured it would throw you off.”
You laugh, taking a moment to commit the way he’s looking at you to memory. You want to remember this moment forever. “Consider me thrown off. You didn’t need to do this for me, by the way. Just getting married is enough repayment.”
“But I did. I was planning this before, but then you asked me if I still wanted to get married, and that only motivated me further. I wanted to show you I have no doubts about this wedding.”
“Stop, you’re going to make me cry again,” you whine, pulling him into another hug.
He chuckles. “I love you too.”
—
“Hey, y/n?”
You hum in response, not looking away from the television. Since tomorrow is the wedding, and you invited your brother over to spend the last night as unmarried siblings together.
“Johnny’s friend, Yoonoh, he looks familiar. I only saw him in passing at the rehearsal dinner, but he looks familiar. Where is he from again?”
“Korea,” you answer in what you hope is a non-suspicious tone. You hadn’t even thought about this. Of course, your family would remember him. You dated him for three years, and even if it's been years since any of you have thought of him, it’s not like they’re just going to forget him.
“Are you sure?” Your brother shifts on the couch to look at you. “Because now that I’m thinking about it, he looks like that jerk you dated in high school? It’s not just me who sees that, right?”
You lightly chew your lip, weighing your options. You can pretend you have no idea what Deven is talking about or admit the truth. Both feel like you’ve lost in some way. If you admit he is the man who cheated on you, you know your brother is going to disagree with you, leaving you with at least the slightest hint of guilt. If you choose to lie to him, then you have to deal with the guilt of not only lying to your fiancé but also your brother.
You sigh. “Okay, I’m going to tell you this, and you have to promise me not to freak out. Do you promise?”
You wait for him to nod his head.
“So, Johnny’s friend Yoonoh is the same guy I dated in high school. And I haven’t told Johnny yet because he’s really excited to have his friend back. I thought I was going to tell him, then I decided not to, and now we’re getting married tomorrow, and there’s not a lot of time left.”
He stares at you in shock, jaw slightly dropped. “So you’re telling me you’ve had the guy you’re getting married to and your ex-boyfriend sleeping under the same roof, and the only people who know are you and Jaehyun?”
He holds up a finger each time he mentions one of their names, bringing them together when he talks about them sleeping under the same roof. The whole time, you nod your head. The longer he talks, the heavier the silliness of the situation feels.
“Or is it Yoonoh?” He backtracks, separating his hands. “Because I swear his name was Jaehyun.”
“No, it was. I guess he changed it before he met Johnny. But you need to help me out. As my younger brother and the only one in our family willing to ask me about this, it is your job to help me figure out what to do.”
He huffs, picking up the remote to pause the tv. “You got two choices: tell Johnny or don’t. Choosing the don’t option would include maybe telling mom and dad, so they don’t go telling anyone.”
You groan, throwing your head back. Your parents wouldn’t intentionally go around telling people the guy who cheated on you is a groomsman at your wedding; rather, they would go down the same route Devon did. They mention that he looks a lot like the “guy you dated in high school” as a joke and unknowingly make things awkward.
“But it isn’t just my wedding, you know? He likes Jaehyun, and if he wants him there he should be allowed to have him there. It doesn’t matter that we used to date, and it doesn’t matter that I don’t like him. That’s what a relationship is: it’s a give-and-take. This is me giving.”
“Y/n, he loves you. Do you remember, as kids, how we always loved how our aunt and uncle were? You can tell they love each other. I don’t believe romantic soulmates exist. But if they did, they would be our aunt and uncle. And that’s exactly what you and Johnny have! You two are as much of soulmates as can be.”
A small smile slips onto your face. “Thanks, Deven. I’m so glad you think that. Having Jaehyun here has messed with my ... everything, and hearing you say that makes me feel warm. But I feel like that proves my point. I know we’re great together, so what does it matter that my ex-boyfriend is here so long as it makes him happy?”
“Because he cheated on you!” your brother exclaims, throwing his hands up. “Because while he may not have told me directly, I can feel that Johnny would be angry that someone hurt you as he did. I’m angry knowing he has the nerve to show his face at your wedding, let alone sleep down the hall from you! I can’t imagine how Johnny would feel. All things considered, I think he’ll be sad once he finds out.”
“Alright.” You chew your lip, bringing your attention back to the paused screen. “You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right.”
—
"So Yoonoh- can I call you that? Or do you prefer Yoonoh Hyung or something else?"
Jaehyun chuckles at Johnny's little brother's rambling, not looking away from the mirror as he and all the other groomsmen finish straightening their suits. "Yoonoh Hyung is fine."
Mark nods his head. "Hyung, what do you think of y/n? She's the best, isn't she?"
"Mark, leave him alone," Johhny says, tapping his phone to check the time.
Mark holds his hands up. "I was just starting a conversation."
"Well, that's a weird start. He barely knows her."
Jaehyun smiles, looking back at the mirror to fix his hair. He wishes he didn't have to lie to his friend. In the end, though, it's better for everyone if your secret stays just that; a secret.
"Well, he's lucky," one of Johnny's friends, Parker, says. "The same day I met her, she treated me and my wife like old friends. She's one of the warmest people I know."
Jaehyun turns to look at his friend, instantly noticing his love-struck smile. He is envious of how much you and Johnny love each other. He wishes he had someone to look at him like that.
"Shouldn't we be talking about me?" Johnny jokes, clearing his throat. "Anyways, we should go out. Deven will meet us out there and then the wedding will get started!" He shakes out his hands, rocking on his feet. "Are you guys ready to accompany me for my only wedding?"
His question is met with cheers, and with a final rock, Johnny leads the way out of the room. He leads them to a room across the hall, knocking on the door.
"Hey, Johnny," a woman greets, only cracking the door enough to poke her head out. "Ready to get this party started?"
He nods his head. "Yep. Are you girls ready?"
"Yep! We'll meet you at the end of the hall, okay? We can't risk you getting a sneak peek of your bride."
Johnny laughs, nodding his head. He guides them further down the hall, stopping in front of a set of double doors. He greets the man standing outside the doors, looking at his phone. Jaehyun tilts his head, watching Johnny exchange a quick hug with the man. He looks so familiar.
"Okay, guys," Johnny announces, drawing his attention away from the other man. "When y/n's bridesmaids come out, you'll all pair up with one of them. Parker will be with his wife, and Mark will be with her maid of honor, J.J. Other than that," Johnny looks at him and the other man, "you two choose whoever is standing closer to you. It doesn't have to be the same person from rehearsal."
"You already said this at the rehearsals, dude, chill," Parker laughs, patting him on the shoulder.
"Do you remember how nervous you were before you had to do this? I'm calm compared to you."
Parker chuckles, shaking his head dismissively, and Jaehyun smiles at the interaction. Before Parker can respond, the sound of whispers draws the group's attention to the group of women in red dresses quickly walking toward them.
"Okay, order, everybody!" Johnny announces, and everybody falls in line behind him.
Contrary to what Johnny says about not needing the same person they paired up with during rehearsals, the girl Jaehyun walked with smiles at him in greeting. He smiles back, extending his arm for her to grab.
"Ready?" she whispers.
He nods, looking forward as his friend pushes open the door. "Ready."
Despite it not being his wedding, he can't help but feel a little nervous as everyone stands up, eyes turning to look at them as they walk down the aisle. His heart skips a beat when he passes your family, focusing on looking straight at where he is going. It’s unrealistic, but he hopes they don’t see him.
When they reach the base of the stairs, he smiles at the woman on his arm before they part ways. He feels eyes burning into his back, dreading the seconds until he has to turn around again. They're looking at me—there is no way they don't remember me. And he’s right. When he turns around, your family is looking in his direction. But it's not him they are looking at.
Instead of the hot stare of hatred he expected directed at him, he sees your mom lovingly look at Johnny. She's gripping her husband's hand, saying something to him as he turns his head to look at Johnny. With all the commotion he caused by staying at your house, it never really hit him how little he actually means to your family. The realization is somehow shocking—despite him and his family feeling the same towards you, and something in him breaks at the knowledge that he barely means anything to you. Until now, a part of him thought this would all blow over after you realized how much he has changed, and things could return to how they were before you and he dated; you could be friends.
The music changes, and the room's attention is brought to the doors as everybody waits for you to appear. Watching you walk down the aisle, Jaehyun is thrust from his previous thoughts by how beautiful you are. He always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you years later—really seeing you— you are even more stunning than he remembers. He flicks his eyes to the left to look at Johnny’s face, and he smiles at the pure look of love on his friend’s face. His heart warms, and suddenly not meaning much to you doesn't seem like such a big deal. He misses you, misses how good of a person you are, but his longing is nothing compared to Johnny's happiness. While he wants a second chance, he can give it up for his friend. He can let you go again.
The rest of the ceremony passes by in a blur, and Jaehyun can't wipe the smile off his face. He hasn’t been to many weddings, but this is the first wedding he has attended to make him feel this way—that true love exists. He couldn’t wish for a better happy ending for his best friend.
At the reception, between meeting various friends of yours, Johnny and you catch his eye. All the stress the wedding put on you two forgotten as you laugh, patting Johnny’s arm as he looks away, laughing. Even toward the end of the evening, and only a few people left, the love felt at the ceremony is still in the air, painting everything in a rose tint.
“Hey,” someone taps his shoulder, drawing his attention away from your laughing figure. When he turns around, he sees the unknown groomsman from in front of the doors. His eyes widen as he realizes who it is.
“You’re Deven, right? I guess-”
Before he can finish his sentence, your brother throws his glass of wine in his face. He gasps and takes a step back in shock, wiping the liquid from his eyes.
“That’s for showing up at my sister’s wedding.”
—
“We need to tell him,” you say, pushing the door to the guestroom open. Johnny had to take a work call, so you took the opportunity to talk to his friend separately. “You’re leaving soon, and I can’t stand keeping this from him anymore. We don’t lie to each other, and now that I’m his wife, it feels even heavier.”
“If you want to of course I’m not going to stop you. But really, do you think that would be the best course of action? Things might take a turn for the worse.” He says, his face void of emotion. His lack of emotion mixed with his words lowers what little patience you have with him.
“Can I be honest?”
He nods his head.
“I don’t hate anyone. Hate and love are two very strong emotions, and it isn’t fair to throw them around randomly. So no, I don’t hate you. But you are the closest person I have to hating someone. So if you think this act here will change my mind somehow, you’re wrong. If you and Johnny stay friends after this, you are not welcome back into my home. Do you understand?”
He looks at you, eyes seemingly blank. But you know him better than you like to admit, and his trying-to-hide-emotions face hasn’t changed since high school. Something in him is hurting. “I understand.”
“I don’t.”
You and Jaehyun jump at the sound of your husband’s voice, and you stare wide-eyed as he pushes the door open.
“Why do you hate Yoonoh? And why wouldn’t we be friends?”
You feel your heart stop at his questions. Yes, you wanted to tell him, but not like this. It made you feel like he caught you cheating. Jaehyun looks expectedly to you, effectively making you feel more trapped. You hold Jaehyun's eye, wanting to cry at the expectation he is now placing on you.
“Listen,” you start slowly, looking away from the man next to you. Just looking at Johnny makes you want to curl into yourself. “It’s a long story, okay? Well, not a long story. Rather, a really hard truth to say and something I did because I thought it was right. But now, I’m not so sure.” you ramble, walking towards him. “You can be sad, mad, or anywhere in between.”
He smiles nervously, eyes flickering between you and Jaehyun. “Thanks for the permission.”
You let a silence fall between you three, and you feel the nervousness from Johnny mix with your anxiousness. You don’t know what Jaehyun feels, nor do you care. You’re too busy trying to think of how to start this.
“I’m the one who cheated on y/n.”
You quickly turn your head towards him, eyes wide at Jaehyun’s sudden confession.
Johnny laughs, the look on his face showing he doesn’t understand the comment. “What?”
“I-um, remember the guy I told you about that cheated on me in high school? Yeah, that is Jaehyun- I mean Yoonoh.”
Any trace of a smile falls off Johnny’s face, and he tears his eyes away from you to look at the other man in the room. “And that’s true? You guys are from the same area of Connecticut, and you’re the guy she dated for two and a half years before he left and had his best friend tell her you cheated on her?”
Jaehyun nods his head, eyes looking away in shame. “I can’t imagine how you feel—”
“You’re right; you can’t. Because I’m sure you think I feel angry—and believe me, I am—that you did that to my wife. But more than angry, I feel stupid. I mean, the entire time you’ve been here, you’ve been dropping hints. You knew stuff about her that you wouldn’t have known unless you were close. And yeah, your excuses made sense at the time, but now that I think about it, I never would have mentioned y/n’s second flavor of ice cream to you in Korea. And you,” he looks back at you, and you feel another wave of anxiety rush over you. “I feel so stupid that I didn’t notice how uncomfortable you were. You only gave him short answers, and I’m sure you never looked him in the eyes for longer than three seconds.”
He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “God, I feel like such an idiot. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t just my wedding; it was yours. And you wanted him there, and it shouldn’t matter my past with him.”
“Yoonoh, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Y/n told me not to. She wanted you to be happy.”
Johnny nods his head, scoffing. “So she did it for me, and what? You did it for yourself?”
Jaehyun hesitates to answer, but, to his credit, he never breaks eye contact with Johnny. “I don’t know if I would say it’s that simple.”
“No, it’s simple. You broke her heart and made her feel worthless. But she set it aside because she loves me and wanted someone I considered a friend at my wedding, despite how she feels about you. But you, you kept it from me because you were scared. You were scared of how I would react. Instead of manning up and doing one good thing for y/n, you decided to keep it to yourself.”
Your heart melts at his speech, and you reach out to grab his hand. “Johnny.”
He smiles sadly at you, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Can we talk in private?”
You nod your head, letting him pull you out of the room. Johnny leads you to the kitchen, letting go of your hand to lean against the counter. He rubs a hand over his face, and despite his conflicted emotions, you feel a little of your anxiety melt away now that you’re away from Jaehyun.
“Is that really why you didn’t tell me? You wanted me to have a friend there? It’s not because you don’t trust me or anything?”
“No, of course, I trust you,” you say, grabbing his free hand in both of yours. “I just, I don’t know, I wanted you to have everyone you wanted at our wedding. You were so excited to have him there, and I couldn’t take that away from you. It’s supposed to be the best day of your life. You deserve to have the people you love there.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. That’s so stupidly selfless, and I wish you had told me. We’re a team now. We need to tell each other these things.”
You vigorously nod your head, hoping to show him you agree. “Yes, of course. I have never lied to you about anything else. Please know I trust you unconditionally.”
He sucks in a breath, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t like the idea of unconditional anything. I want you to trust me because you love me and believe in me. Not because you feel you need to because of this or because we are married.”
You nod your head, whispering an okay. You feel like you're grasping at straws; everything you say feels wrong. Maybe it's the anxiety that has been building up in the past five minutes, but you feel like one more wrong word from you, and you'll spiral into a crying mess.
“Now,” he clears his throat. “I have to go talk to him. But when I get back, let’s go out, okay?”
You lightly chew your lip, watching as he flashes you a fleeting smile before making his way back to where Jaehyun is.
—
Jaehyun felt the air leave his chest once you and Johnny left the room. While not physically hit, the look on his friend's face felt like an emotional punch.
After you two left the room, he sat on the bed and threw his head into his hands. In hindsight, he probably should have let you tell him. Maybe Johnny wouldn’t have been as mad. Then again, Jaehyun has no idea how mad his friend is. He has a feeling that he’ll find out once he returns.
“So you really cheated on my wife, huh?”
Jaehyun chuckles, raising his head out of his hands to look at Johnny, who closed the door behind him. “I bet you never thought you’d say those words.”
“Come on. We need to have this conversation.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he sighs, pushing himself up from the bed. “What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know, so just let me talk. So when your family moved here, you moved to the same city as y/n, met, and started dating. At some point, you started cheating on her, but then moved back to Korea and had one of your then friends tell her?”
Jaehyun can’t bring himself to look Johnny in the eyes. Seeing you had kicked him in his ego. It reminded him of the person he used to be. But now, having to tell your husband about how horrible of a boyfriend he was really made him feel small.
“I didn’t ask him to do that. He just decided on doing that. Not that I blame him.”
Johnny nods his head. “I don’t need to know why—it doesn’t matter. But do you know how worthless you made her feel? Just the other day, she asked me if I still wanted to marry her because she was thinking about your relationship. She told me I deserved better. And I’m sure some of that came from keeping this secret from me, but a majority of it came from you.”
Jaehyun looks up to see if he is done. The first night he got here, and almost every night since, he thought of the things Johnny might say once he found out. He would never describe his friend as violent, so he wasn’t worried about getting hit. He would prefer being punched to the look on his friend's face.
“I invite you to my wedding,” Johnny continues, seemingly annoyed at Jaehyun’s lack of response. “And invite you to our home. When you see your ex-girlfriend open the door, instead of being a decent human and telling her you’ll stay somewhere else, you stay in our home. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that probably made her?”
“I did offer to leave, but she told me it was okay. She said she didn’t want to influence our relationship. She also said you’d pick her over me.”
Johnny sighs. “What do you expect me to say to that?”
Jaehyun shrugs. “I don’t know, but I do want to apologize. I’m sorry I put you in this position, and I’m sorry I lied to you. I never meant-I don’t know what I meant. I just know I never intended to cause a problem between you and y/n. I came and stayed because you’re my friend, and I wanted to celebrate one of the biggest days of your life.”
“You’re not listening,” Johnny insists. “I’m not mad because you’re the guy who cheated on her. I’m mad because you didn’t say anything. I can’t say anything would be different if you had told me before, but it might have been! We could have talked it out, and you could have convinced me you changed. But now, instead of looking at you as the guy who broke her heart, I’m looking at you as the guy who also made her uncomfortable in her own home. At her wedding! How could you do that to her?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
Jaehyun sighs. He knows this is a losing conversation. Nothing he can say would make this situation better. “I guess I was being selfish. I wanted to protect my friendship with you by not telling you this. Yes, of course, I felt guilty for what I put y/n through. But she said she wanted me there for you. I felt trapped because I wanted to be there, you wanted me there, and she wanted me there for you but not herself. What was I supposed to do? Go against her and tell you?”
“Yes! Yes, you should have told me. Because she cares for me, she put me first. She decided she was less important than I am, and you are the only one to blame for that. And that is unacceptable. As my friend, you should have told me.”
“Hyung, I’m sorry.”
His friend takes a deep breath, running his left hand through his hair. The silver band on his finger catches his attention, and he feels another wave of guilt wash over him. “You know you need to leave?”
Jaehyun nods his head. He didn’t know what the outcome of this conversation was going to be, but he knew this was bound to happen.
“Good. Y/n and I are going out, so if you could be gone by the time we get back that would be best. I’ll still drive you to the airport, and maybe then we can talk about where our relationship goes from there.”
He nods his head, feeling too lost to say anything. Johnny silently leaves the room, and a few minutes later, he hears the front door close. He wishes he isn’t the one to blame. That he can blindly call you and Johnny jerks and leave with his ego intact. Now that he had that conversation, though, he knows there is no other narrative to possibly tell.
He is the villain. No longer is he the friend who came all the way from South Korea for his friend’s wedding. Now, he is the guy who cheated on his friend’s wife and had the nerve to stay in their home and attend the wedding. He chuckles, finally moving from his spot.
It’s almost funny. All this might have been avoided had he come clean in the first place. If he had just been honest, maybe he could still call Johnny his friend. But if history is any indication, Jaehyun has a problem with the truth.
—
“So where are we going?” you ask, following Johnny as he starts down the street.
He shrugs his shoulders. “I was thinking we could just walk and talk.”
You nod your head, pursing your lips as you reach out to grab his hand. You don’t know what to think.
“Y/n, I just don’t understand. When you told me someone cheated on you, I was so confused. I was both mad and sad for you. You knew what I thought about the man who cheated on you, and you still didn’t tell me it was him. I would’ve worked with you. Worked to make you comfortable.”
You sadly hum, the constant weight of the situation settling on your chest and making it hard to breathe. “I know, honey, I know. And that’s why I didn’t tell you. It’s only a big deal to me—”
He interrupts you with a laugh. “That’s false, and you know it. Don’t even give me that. You knew it would be a big deal to me, and that’s why you didn’t tell me. And yeah, Yoonoh told me that you wanted to protect my relationship with him. That because it was also my wedding, I should have whoever I wanted there. But that’s crap, and you know it.”
You squeeze his hand, looking at all the passing people. All these people passing by, and none of them have any idea about your situation. To them, you’re just another couple having an average conversation. You’re envious of their ignorance but thankful for the hope that maybe it isn't as world-shattering as it feels.
“I don’t know what to say. I understand why you’re mad. I don’t know how I’d feel if some girl who cheated on you came to the wedding. Because I hold such a high opinion of you, I would think she doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you. But he’s your best friend from an amazing time in your life, and I couldn’t be the reason you two don’t talk.”
A silence falls between you two, and to try and avoid your thoughts, you focus on the sound of cars passing by. When you were younger, you never imagined your life in New York. You love Connecticut and had every intention of moving back after finishing college. Enter Johnny.
When you first met Johnny, you paid him no mind. He was just another face in the crowd. After you met him on Ellis Island, you started noticing him more in the crowds of people you passed every day.
Apparently, he felt the same. He started smiling at you when you passed in the halls, occasionally exchanging greetings. Then, one day in psych, he deviated from his usual seat in the middle and joined you in the front.
“Can I sit here?”
You smile at him, hoping he can’t see how happy you are to see him. “Yeah, of course.”
You silently watch as he sits down, pulling out his notes. “Oh,” you start, not wanting the conversation to end just yet. “I never got to thank you for helping me with that boy the other day. It meant a lot to me.”
“It was the least I could do. You looked like you had your hands full.”
You laugh, nodding your head. “Yeah, I was. I don’t know if you noticed, but that little boy and I had a bit of a language barrier.”
He hums. “Well, I am happy to lend a helping hand when I notice a damsel in distress.”
You laugh at the remark, not missing how the comment made your heart light. You quickly shut the feeling down, choosing to focus on your notes. You haven’t seriously dated anyone since Jaehyun, and you don’t know if you’re ready. Throughout the class you tried to ignore the urge to look at him.
“Hey, so I’ll see you Friday for class?”
You smile up at him, happy he wants to see you again. “Yeah, see you Friday.”
After that, you two started talking more, and eventually, he asked you out. You were hesitant at first, still nervous after everything that happened with Jaehyun. Around your third date, you told him that. Told him that if he wanted out now, he could take it, and you wouldn’t blame him. He smiled, shaking his head softly before telling you there was nothing to worry about. From what he had seen so far, there was nothing that would make him think he needed to use that out.
“We’ll work past this, right?” you ask softly, not wanting to hear an answer. “You don’t think poorly of me?”
He squeezes your hand. “Sweetheart, do you think something like this would make me care for you any less?”
You feel the tears prickle in your eyes, and you hug his arm with your free hand. “I love you.”
—
Jaehyun heaves a nervous sigh, bouncing his leg nervously as he waits for Johnny's call. He hasn’t spoken to his friend since he was kicked from your apartment—the last conversation he shared with him has replayed in his mind for the past few days.
When Johnny's contact photo pops us—a dumb photo he took of a drunk Johnny in a party hat—he feels his heart stop. What am I going to say? How do I act normal?
He clears his throat, trying to rid his body of the nervousness. “Hey, you out front?”
“Yeah. As soon as you leave the building, I’m there.”
“Okay, see you in a second.” Jaehyun pushes himself up, hanging up the phone as he walks the few steps out of the automatic doors. His friend wasn’t kidding. As soon as he steps outside the hotel, he sees his friend’s car trunk popped open for Jaehyun to load his things.
He walks as slowly as he can without it being obvious, mentally building up the courage to sit with Johnny and have what he can imagine is the most awkward conversation he will ever have in his life.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Johnny starts, not leaving any time between the start of the drive and the start of the conversation, “and a lot of talking with y/n, and honestly, I don’t know what to do. I talked with her, and she wants me to keep you as a friend if that is what I want without thinking about her.”
“And is that what you want?” Jaehyun keeps his eyes on the outside world. He doesn’t know if he can stand to see any of the left-over disappointment.
“I don’t know what I want. Even if she says not to keep her in mind, she’ll always be in my mind when I look at you. I mean, no offense, but now when I look at you, I am reminded of the secret you guys kept from me and how I felt when I found out. I mean, I felt like you guys played me, and it was all some sick joke.” Johnny sighs, and out of the corner of his eye, Jaehyun can see him shake his head. “But that is beside the point. I asked her if she could ever forgive you for what happened.”
Jaehyun sits straighter in his seat, turning his head to face his friend. “And… and what did she say?”
“She says that when you’re with her, it feels like you revert to who you were in high school. That she can still see traces of the same man who hurt her. But when you’re with me, she sees the man I view as my best friend. She said she likes Yoonoh much better than Jaehyun and that if you can continue to be that man around me, then she can understand if we remain friends."
"I change that much?”
Johnny shrugs. “I don’t know.”
He nods his head, looking back out the window. He lets a few seconds of silence pass by as he decides if he wants to hear the answer to the question that still needs asking. “And you? What do you think about still being my friend?”
“Right into it, huh?” His friend laughs humorlessly. “I don’t know, Yoonoh. You were part of the reason I had such a good time in Korea, and without you, I don’t think I would have enjoyed my time as much. I made other friends there, but none I clicked with like you, and none that I still talk with to this day. So you matter to me. But at the same time, you cheated on my wife before we met. When she told me about this, she told me about the pain and the self-esteem issues that came with being cheated on. And then you lied to me about it. Sure, so did y/n, but she did it selflessly, and you lied for you. I don’t mean to put it so bluntly, but I don’t know anymore.”
“I don’t mean this in a joking way, but I agree. I don’t know what you should do either. I want to say you should forgive me, but I don’t know if that is the ‘right’ thing to do. What would make you feel less guilty?”
“I have been thinking about this for the past three days, and I can’t say what that would be. I tried to imagine my life without you and my life with you. I feel like I have to choose between you and my wife, and I don’t want to make that choice.”
“You know, you don’t need to make that choice now. I’m not going anywhere, and neither is y/n. You can text me whenever you have made your choice—whatever that may be. If you don’t want to talk to me, then I will respect that, and we go our separate ways. You and y/n are right—I have been selfish during this whole thing. It’s time for me to be as unselfish as I can and tell you that you can take as long as you need. Know there is no pressure on my side of this.”
Johnny sighs. “You know, saying things like that reminds me why I like you.”
Jaehyun laughs, happy to have something lighthearted in the environment. The comment gives him hope that maybe things will be okay between them. Even if it isn’t okay, he meant what he said; whatever Johnny decides, he will respect it. He wouldn’t ask his friend to do anything that might cause an issue in his marriage. Not when he found you.
—
“Talk later then?”
“Yeah, let me know when you land in Korea. Safe flight.”
Jaehyun nods his head, waving goodbye. Johnny sighs, watching his friend walk into the airport. He feels like so much happened in four days, and now, more than ever, he is ready to go on his honeymoon and have a week dedicated to just you and him.
Ten minutes into his drive back and five minutes into sitting in traffic, the loud ring of his phone causes him to jump.
“I gotta see if I can make this quieter,” he mumbles, pressing accept on the steering wheel. “Hello?”
“Hey, did I time it right?” you start, skipping the greeting. “I added an extra twenty minutes to the hour drive from when you left the hotel to make sure you had dropped him off. Not that I would mind calling you while he is still there, I just wouldn’t want to get in the way of you guys spending the rest of the time together. And now I’ve been talking for too long. You really need to learn to interrupt me.”
Johnny laughs. “I love it when you talk. Don’t worry about it, Love.”
You laugh, and he imagines you throwing your head back. “Love? That’s a new one. Anyway, I looked at the weather for when we’ll be in Italy, and it looks perfect! Low seventies, high sixties.”
He laughs, resting his head against the driver's window as he watches the cars barely inch forward. “And to think, you had your doubts about the Amalfi Coast.”
“Hey! First, we both put suggestions into the hat, and it isn’t my fault your brother picked your suggestion. Second, I never had any doubts about Italy. Don’t lie.”
“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry. The weather sounds great. I’m stuck in traffic right now; I guess there was some accident on top of the normal traffic. So I’ll be home in like one hundred years.”
“Aw, I’m sorry. Want me to pick some food up from that Greek place around the corner? A little comfort food for us?”
He smiles, knowing you mean comfort for more than just the traffic. “Yeah, that sounds great. Get me the gyro-”
“Gyro chicken mix plate. You really should change it up now and again. You’re getting too predictable.”
He laughs. “Yeah, maybe next time. Once you find the good stuff, it’s too scary to try new food.”
“Whimp.”
“Whatever you say. Mind you I am also driving. It’s not like I can check the menu. That would be unsafe.”
“Excuses, excuses.” You sigh, and Johnny can hear the shuffling of papers. “Alright, I’m going to head home now. I gotta write this substitution plan before we can leave. But I’ll get the food, and while we feast, why don’t we watch some tv?”
“Sounds like a brilliant plan. Love ya.”
“Love you too.”
---
Thank you for reading! This as been a wip forever now and it feels really good to finally put this out (even if it is a few days later than I thought). I would love to know what you thought!!
Paring: Johnny x female reader, past Jaehyun x reader
Summary: With all the planning for your wedding coming up, everything feels like it is going right. Soon, you and Johnny will be happily married and all that is left to do is to wait. But what happens when Jaehyun shows up out of the blue?
Warnings: mentions of cheating, none others that I can think of but let me know
Word count (part one): a little under 6K
Thanks to @pastelsicheng for reading the first quarter of this a billion years ago. Other than that quarter this is not proofread so let me know about any errors!!
“I like you and all, but I don’t know if I want you that close to me.”
“Where else am I supposed to sit if not next to you?”
“I don’t know. Not my problem.”
“Well, you better get used to me sitting close to you because I plan to stick around for a while.”
Johnny sighs, leaning back against the sofa. “Why do we have to do this again? Why can’t we just let them all fight for their seats?”
You laugh, turning your head dramatically to look at him. “Maybe because we decided this wedding was going to be ‘the fanciest wedding any of those suckers have ever been to.’”
“I don’t know who said that, but you really shouldn’t listen to whatever advice you hear. You can’t live your life so codependent all the time.”
You smack his arm, earning a side glare in response. “Okay, first of all, I’m not the one who bought all those cards and spent a good hour writing everyone’s name in a fancy font. Second, I was quoting you, and you know it. Don’t try and play dumb with me, Suh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, l/n.”
“Good.” You place your elbow on the table, resting your head on top of your hand as you pick the pen back up. “Now, where do you want Mark to sit?”
“At the kids’ table.”
“You’re useless,” you sigh, dropping your arm and turning your head to smile at him.
“Good thing I’m leaving to go get Yoonoh from the airport.”
“You jerk, you planned this, didn’t you? Because now I’m stuck here, trying to figure out where to put people so a fight doesn’t break out.”
He scoffs, pushing himself up. “Who is going to fight at our wedding?”
“You’re letting Mark bring Donghyuck. Intentional or not, I feel it in my bones that Hyuck will start a fight with someone.”
“Well, you have the bones of a seventy-year-old man, so excuse me for not trusting what your bones say,” he jokes, walking into the kitchen.
You laugh, leaning your head against your hand, staring at the paper with little drawn tables. “At least I’m not a six-foot giant.”
He laughs, opening the front door. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
---
“Hey, y/n, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I have to drop Yoonoh off at the house and then run over to help Mark with something.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” You set the pen down, putting your phone on speaker so you could stretch back over the couch. “Did you get the guest room set up?”
“Ah, you see, about that...”
“Johnny,” you laugh, bringing your body forward. You can imagine the smile on his face. “You were supposed to do that this morning.”
“And I was, but then I got a bit… distracted.”
“Is ‘distracted’ when you ordered a Dairy Queen cake at nine in the morning to prove to Deven that you could eat half an eight-inch by yourself?”
“Mayhaps.”
You laugh, pushing yourself up. The look on your brother’s face as he watched Johnny eat the last slice of cake that would mark half and stammering about how he didn’t understand how someone so fit could eat that much is something you’ll remember for a long time. “Don’t worry about it. How far out are you?”
“If my calculations are correct, he should be knocking on the door any minute now.”
“You jerk! You couldn’t have given me more of a heads up?”
“Oh, you’re fine. Make him help you. He’s always one to help a damsel in distress.”
You shake your head, walking to the front door to wait for Yoonoh's knock. “Are you trying to send your fiancée into the arms of another man?”
He chuckles, the sound making you smile. Four years of dating, and you still feel a sense of pride when you make him laugh.
“Oh, you know I am. I can finally be free.”
You gasp, and before you can respond, you hear a knock at the door. “Looks like it’s your lucky day. He’s here.”
“Go get ‘em, tiger.”
You laugh, softly saying a ‘bye’ before hanging up.
You open the door, a wide smile spread across your face, ready to meet Johnny’s best friend from Korea.
However, when you process the person in front of you, your smile drops.
“Oh, um,” he stammers nervously, blinking at you. He doesn’t say anything more he just looks at you. Breaking eye contact, he says, "I must have the wrong apartment. Do you happen to know where John Suh lives?"
You take a deep breath, opening the door wider to invite him in. “No, this is the right place.”
He doesn’t immediately walk in, again choosing to stare at you.
You sigh, dropping your hand from the door. “Close the door when you come in—I’m going to go make the guest bed.”
Not wanting to be around him anymore you quickly walk to the bathroom. Trying to push him out of your mind, you focus on putting yourself on autopilot as you grab two towels before heading to the guest room. Setting the towels on the bedside table, you grab the sheets from the closet.
“I can do this, y/n. You don’t need to worry about it.”
When did he come in? I didn’t even hear the door.
Keeping your back to him, you continue spreading the sheets over the bed. “You’re my guest, Jaehyun. Of course, I have to do it.”
Jaehyun. You haven’t thought about him in a while, but of course, the universe has other plans than for you to get married easily. Only, instead of a freak accident happening to your wedding cake, it comes in the shape of Jung Jaehyun.
Or Jung Yoonoh.
You hear him roll his suitcase to the far end of the room, dropping his backpack next to it. Without saying anything more, he helps you straighten the sheets.
After what feels like forever making his bed, you heave a sigh of relief.
“I’ll be in my room.” You had planned on adding the comment: “if you need anything, feel free to ask,” but frankly, the offer doesn’t apply to people like him.
Not wanting to hear his response, you turn and quickly walk towards the door, hoping to leave without any more conversation.
“Y/n,” he calls, stopping you before you can leave. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to leave? I’ll make something up to tell Johnny.”
You sigh, turning around to face him. “Yes, Jaehyun, I want you to leave. But you’re one of his best friends. And I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but I’m not going to let my feelings toward you ruin his relationship with you.”
You don’t know how well you’ll be able to follow through with that, but you’ll sure as hell try. It isn’t just your wedding, after all; Johnny is allowed to invite anyone he wants.
Even the man who broke your heart.
“Is that all you wanted to say? If so, I’m going to go take a shower.”
“Um yeah, go ahead. Just, I’m sorry to put you in this situation. I am.”
You turn around, nodding your head once before quickly rushing out the door.
Sitting on your bed, you feel your heart pound in your chest. Out of everyone Johnny could have befriended, he just had to go and pick my ex-boyfriend?
Falling back onto your bed, you sigh for what feels like the millionth time in the past twenty minutes.
You spent weeks crying over that man, hoping you’d never have to see him again. The embarrassment and pain of the situation caused you to hate not only him, but also yourself for months. Sure, you’re over him completely. By this time next weekend, you’ll be Mrs. y/n Suh. Nothing else could make you happier, but that didn’t mean seeing him doesn’t hurt; because it does— a lot.
Taking a deep breath, you push yourself up off the bed. Rushing out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror.
I can’t do this. I can’t lie to him. You prop your elbows on the counter, resting your head in your hands. I also can’t go and tell him his best friend is the “goose face of a man” I told him about.
The memory of Johnny calling Jaehyun a goose face after hearing about what he did to you stills the emotions bouncing around your head. It makes everything calmer. Nodding your head once at yourself in the mirror, you push yourself off the counter and go to turn on the water.
Johnny is worth it, you’ve decided; he’s worth the pain.
---
When you hear the front door open you feel a pang of fear. You have to look your fiancé in the eyes and pretend his best friend doesn’t make you uncomfortable. What a great way to spend the few days before my wedding.
“Yoonoh, what are you doing?” you hear Johnny ask as you open the bedroom door, quietly walking down the hall to the kitchen.
“Oh,” you hear Jaehyun reply. “I thought I’d make dinner for you guys since you’re letting me stay here. My mom’s famous japchae.”
You stand in the doorway, watching the two talk in front of the stove, backs to you.
Johnny snorts, leaning his elbow on the counter. “Your mom isn’t the best cook, no offense to her, so you definitely pulled that off the Internet. Don’t try me, Jung Yoonoh. And also, doesn’t that sauce have honey in it? Y/n’s allergic to honey.”
Jaehyun flicks his eyes over to you, finally seeing you standing in the doorway. “She saw me taking out all the ingredients and told me about the honey.”
You shift uncomfortably on your feet, looking away from the pair. You don’t know why Jaehyun remembers your allergy, but the reminder that he used to be one of the most important people in your life is unwelcome.
Pushing the unsettling feeling away, you put on a brave smile and walk over to your fiancé. “So, what did Mark want?”
He smiles down at you. “Oh, nothing. The weirdo broke the coffee machine and needed help fixing it before dad found out. I can only imagine the complaints he would make if he received a bill from the hotel about a broken coffee maker.”
You scrunch your nose, ignoring the feeling of Jaehyun’s eyes on you. “He doesn’t even like coffee. How did he break it?”
Johnny shrugs. “It’s Mark, can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Jarhyun mumbles, motioning to the stove. “But the noodles are done.”
You look at the noodles, realizing that he needs you to move to get to the sink behind you.
“You know what,” you say, stepping out of the way. “I’m going to go grade some papers. You guys stay here and catch up. Tell me when dinner’s done?”
“Oh, okay, are you sure? He actually lived in Connecticut for a few years. You both could reminisce about the good old days.”
Johnny’s smile is dazzling, and your heart melts at the innocent intention behind his words. He always makes an effort to include you in his conversations, even if it is just little hints like this.
You fight a cringe at the statement as your eyes look over to Jaehyun. You catch his eyes as he sets the pot in the sink, holding a strainer full of hot glass noodles. For a second, you find yourself wanting to scream at him. Yell about how unfair it was for him to leave without saying anything to you after three years of being together, how unfair it was that his then-best-friend had to shyly tell you he had been cheating on you for the past few months with some girl at his work. Mostly, though, you want to yell about how unfair it is for him to put you in this situation. That if he had just been a decent person in the first place, he wouldn’t be making a liar out of you.
Instead, you break your eye contact and smile as un-forcefully as you can. “It may not be a very big state, but it’s still a state, dear. I’m sure Yoonoh and I never went to the same places or anything.”
“I don’t know. I feel like the universe would have a hard time keeping two beautiful people away from each other.”
You snort, rolling your eyes. “Whatever you say. But really, I do have papers to grade. So I’ll see you both at dinner. Thank you again, Yoonoh.”
“What? Oh, yeah, no problem,” he replies awkwardly. Breaking whatever trance he was in and pouring the noodles into a mixing bowl.
With a final salute to Johnny, you turn and walk back to your bedroom.
Once safely behind closed doors, you shut your eyes and take a deep breath.
This is going to be hard.
---
“So, y/n, I assume you’re a teacher?”
“Yeah, I teach fifth grade,” you respond, forcing yourself to briefly smile at him before returning your gaze to the plate below you.
It feels like you are losing by talking to him, especially telling him about something he knew was a dream.
The image of him picking you up after your shift at the daycare on Fridays before taking you to dinner at his house or a restaurant flashes through your mind, and you suppress a bitter chuckle.
“I don’t know how she does it,” Johnny comments, unaware of your inner battle. “I could never be a teacher. I have this vivid memory of my mom telling me to never be a teacher.”
You chuckle, bringing your eyes away from the food to look at him. “Probably because of that one time you yelled at Mark for not knowing the days of the week.”
“For one, I was like eight, and he was five. How was I supposed to know he could mix up the days of the week and not look stupid? Second, you need to stop having those lunches with my mom.” He turns to look at Jaehyun. “She used to have these lunches with my mom without me, and they would talk about me. Can you believe it?”
Jaehyun chuckles, eyes flicking to you before looking back to his best friend. The news doesn’t surprise him; his mom always loved you.
“Sorry man, sucks to be you.”
“You’re both useless,” he says dejectedly, dramatically stuffing some noodles into his mouth.
You shake your head, smiling at his childish actions.
“Oh hey,” Johnny starts, abandoning the previous topic. “You don’t have work tomorrow, right?”
“Seeing as it’s a weekend, you are correct.”
“Then would you mind taking Yoonoh around tomorrow? I bought tickets for us to go see the Statue of Liberty, but something came up at work.”
Frowning, you ignore the instinct that tells you to immediately disagree. “Are they overworking you? Do you need me to go in there and yell at some people?”
He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Not yet, but be ready when I call.”
Crossing your arms, you lean back in your chair, attempting to appear tough. “Don’t worry, babe. I got you.”
He scrunches his face as the word ‘babe’ leaves your mouth, chuckling. You smile at him, relaxing from your tough act to laugh with him.
“Am I missing something?” Jaehyun asks, smiling at Johnny.
“Oh, so for our first date, we went to a winery-“
“It took more than an hour to get there, by the way,” you interject, smiling as the story plays out in your head.
“Yeah, I had prepared different topics we could talk about in case we ran out of things to talk about. But anyway, we went on a winery tour, right? And this one couple-”
He cuts himself off, giggles erupting from the both of you.
He takes a deep breath, trying to suppress his laughter. “And this one couple was, like, fighting? They were walking behind us the entire time and would say stuff like: ‘babe, you don’t understand how hard it’s been cleaning the apartment all by myself’ or ‘babe, you never care about me and what I want to do.’”
“The response to which was: ‘if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have bought you your favorite brand of peanut butter.’”
Johnny’s laugh rings through your ears, and you hear Jaehyun quietly laugh across from you.
“Oh my gosh, I forgot about that,” Johnny wheezes, turning to face Jaehyun. “After that, they were silent for about three minutes before the complaints about something else in their relationship started back up. Anyways, skip to when we’re doing the wine tasting, and it turns out, y/n here doesn’t drink.”
Jaehyun laughs, turning his attention to you. “Really? You went to a winery for your first date?”
You smile, too caught up in the story to realize who you are talking to. “He was so excited! I couldn’t say no.”
“I already bought the tickets, and I knew she was too nice to say no, so it was a full-proof plan for at least one date.”
“Okay, okay, enough of that. Get to the good part,” you say, waving your hand to tell Johnny to continue.
“Oh, right, so they’re handing out the wine, and y/n has to say: ‘oh no, I don’t drink.’ And the guy pouring the wine is confused because, you know, who would come to a winery tour if you don’t drink? Anyway, once he poured my glass and moved on, I’m like: ‘why didn’t you tell me you don’t drink? We didn’t have to come.’ And y/n, being the kind person she is, said it didn’t matter and that it was still a fun time. But of course, me not knowing this fact didn’t go unnoticed by the couple, and the girl turns to the guy and says: ‘Babe, I’m so glad you know me and what I like; I don’t know what I would do without you.’”
A loud laugh escapes your mouth, and you quickly cover your mouth in surprise. “You should’ve seen Johnny’s face. He felt so bad.”
“I thought I blew it with you! Of course, I was sad,” he laughs. “And all you did was laugh in my face.”
“I couldn’t help it!” you exclaim. “There you were, a six-foot man, looking sadly down at his wine because of a comment from the ‘babe couple.’ In my prior year of knowing you, I had never seen that look on your face.”
“But on the bright side, we didn’t have to worry about driving drunk.”
You hadn’t thought about that day or why you both use “babe” jokingly in a while. It had just been a thing you both laugh at with no explanation. It’s nice to relive your first date and the warm feeling you've felt for the man since.
“So, yeah,” you say, turning towards Jaehyun. You try to meet his eyes, but as soon as he meets yours, you find yourself looking anywhere but at him. “That’s why we only jokingly call each other ‘babe.’ It might not be as funny as we make it out to be, one of those you-had-to-be-there-moments.”
Jaehyun shakes his head, a small smile gracing his face. “No, I think it’s sweet. You have an inside joke with a fun story. It was nice to hear.”
You hate the sincerity in his voice, and when you look up, you see what you can only describe as love.
You know it isn’t love for you. Jaehyun has undoubtedly moved on; it’s love for his friend. That’s one thing you always admired about Jaehyun, how much he loves his friends.
You see that same quality in Johnny.
—
“You don’t have to take me,” Jaehyun says as you two walk toward the subway station.
“I told Johnny I would, so I am.”
Jaehyun nods his head, shifting his gaze away from you.
You were mad when Jaehyun left, and, unknown to you, that anger reappeared when you tried to have another relationship. Johnny helped you get over that anger. Now that he’s back, all that anger is coming back, and Johnny can’t help you. With Jaehyun sleeping in the room next to you, you have never felt so uncomfortable in your own home.
You had spent all night thinking about your situation. You love your fiancé—there is no doubt in your mind that he is the man you want to marry. Jaehyun just wasn’t supposed to come back, not when everything was going good.
“Where do I go to buy a ticket?” He asks, breaking you from your thoughts.
“Oh, I’ll swipe my card twice.” At the mention of a card you reach into your bag to grab your wallet.
Jaehyun laughs softly. “I just noticed. You’re carrying a purse now?”
You look down at the small purse hanging over your shoulder. “Yeah, I started doing it after I lost my card at the store. Johnny watched me stress for about ten minutes as I checked his car before the store gave me a call. After which, I made him drive me to the closest department store and bought this.”
He doesn’t respond, watching as you scan your card before moving out of the way for him to walk through first. You quickly scan your card again, immediately putting it back into your wallet as you walk through.
Like your allergy to honey, it bugs you that he remembers your unwillingness towards carrying a purse back in high school. Everyone around you, Jaehyun included, warned you that you would lose something one day. Now that you think of it, it had been one of Jaehyun’s favorite things to tease you about.
“You two make a good couple,” he says quietly, pulling you from your thoughts. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
You scoff at his words, seeing them as nothing but laughable. “Thanks, he’s an honest man.”
---
“We have five minutes before the ferry leaves. Do you want to stay here and look, or should we go wait at the doc?” You ask after having walked around the statue and answering all his questions.
“We can wait at the doc,” he responds, already turning to walk back. “If I’m being honest, I don’t get the excitement of tourist attractions.”
You nod your head in agreement, and as if to prove your point, a man accidentally bumps into you. “I worked here for a year, so the appeal is more than lost on me.”
“You worked here?”
You nod your head, standing on the tips of your toes to see if you can find a clear spot. Once you find one with fewer people, you lead him that way. “As you know, my mom is a German teacher, so I grew up speaking German. I took a job here as a tour guide. I met Johnny here.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, some of his relatives were visiting from Korea before going to his parents in Chicago. So, of course, they came here, and I was leading one of the tours around. But this boy from the Korean tour before me got separated from his parents. I obviously don’t know Korean, and he didn’t know very much English. So in came Johnny, the best translator, and he helped calm the boy down until his family could come back. Then we met again on the island that has the museum. I was sitting on a bench waiting for my group to come back from the self-exploring time or whatever you want to call it, and he sat next to me and said: ‘long day, huh?’ Next thing you know, we find out we go to the same university.”
Jaehyun smiles, eyes darting behind you. “Is that the ferry that takes us to the museum?”
You turn around, seeing a ferry slowly pull into the doc. Simply nodding in response, you walk closer to where the ferry pulls in. The rest of the time waiting for the ferry is thankfully silent. Your time with him hasn’t been as horrible as you thought it would be, but on a list of the things you could be doing on your day off, talking with your ex does not even make the list.
After boarding the ferry and watching the water pass by with Jaehyun by your side, a strong sense of déjà vu hits you. Before dating, you and Jaehyun took an old steamboat on the Connecticut River. You had been sitting much like you are now, minus the awkward air between you two. Except at some point after he got back from getting you both some water, his leg rested against yours. The warmth from the simple action had made you so happy. It’s still the moment you think of when you picture the beginning of your relationship. It’s the day things between the two of you shifted from friends to something more.
Now, when his leg briefly touches yours, you quickly pull your leg away. Instead of bringing happiness, the warmth brings a sick feeling to your stomach.
“When are you leaving?”
You can feel Jaehyun looking at you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. “I leave four days after the wedding.”
You nod your head, not taking your eyes away from the water.
The rest of the ride is silent.
---
“Thank you for spending yesterday with him,” Johnny says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I really appreciate you doing that for me and taking my position as best friend tour guide.”
You nod your head, shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch, pulling his arm closer around you. You truly value these moments. Moments where he would let you snuggle close against him, his arm around your shoulder, holding you close.
You normally aren’t a very touchy person, but it was times like this when you feel so lonely that you want to feel loved. Johnny figured this out only five months after you started dating.
Every time, he never pushed you into saying something you weren’t ready to share. He just listened and said sweet things.
“You-you still want to get married, right?” You pause for a second, searching for the right words. “I know that might be a stupid question. I’ve been thinking lately, and I just- I don’t know.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, instead choosing to rub your arm comfortingly.
“I don’t know what happened, and like always, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But that is the silliest question I’ve heard all week – no – in all my life. I’ve never met someone outside of my family who means more to me than you do. The day I proposed to you was the scariest day of my life. Logically, you were going to say yes. But I was so scared you would say no, and I would lose the person who has made my life the best it’s ever been.”
“Thank you, Johnny, that means a lot to me. I’m happy I haven’t chased you away yet.”
He gives you a gentle squeeze. “Believe me, if anyone is doing the chasing away around here, it’s Mark.”
“I don’t know. I think out of the two of you, he has more charm.”
He snorts. “Fair point. But back on topic, do you want to tell me what has you second-guessing things?”
“I’m not second-guessing anything on my part,” you clarify. The last thing you want him to believe is that you’re second-guessing your relationship. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my past relationship, the one where I was cheated on. I didn’t feel what I feel for you with him, but there must have been a reason he cheated on me. I’m worried you’re going to find out what that thing is and then leave me.”
“Well, I can tell you right now that you don’t have to worry about that. Seeing as I’m not a goose face, I’m not about able to see the same things as a crazy person.”
“I don’t know; your face is kind of goose-like.”
“How dare you. You take that back right now, or I’ll make you.”
As hard as you try, you can’t ignore the guilt creeping into your stomach. Here you are, talking about Jaehyun to one of his best friends while he’s asleep in the other room. You weren’t even the one in the relationship who did something “bad,” so you don’t know what guilt you owe him.
Overpowering the guilt you feel towards Jaehyun is the guilt you feel towards Johnny.
“You deserve better than me,” you whisper.
“No, I deserve you.”
---
“I am going to kill someone.”
“Calm down it isn’t that bad.”
“Isn’t that bad?” you repeat, looking over at Johnny in a mix of shock and horror. “I don’t think I can ever come back here. That is how bad this is.”
“Am I missing something?” Jaehyun asks from his spot next to Johnny.
The three of you are currently standing in front of the ice cream section in your supermarket. Johnny had noticed you were stressed over some of the last-minute planning for the wedding and decided it was time you took a break.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Her favorite ice cream just isn’t here right now,” Johnny answers.
“And you don’t see how that is a big deal? You’re the one who said I needed to take a break, and now you’re saying the disappearance of the one thing that is necessary for an authentic break isn’t a big deal?”
“Okay, take a chill pill. They got your second favorite.”
“Where? I don’t see it. Are you stalling for time before I kick your shins?”
“No, I see it right here,” Jaehyun leans forward to tap the glass in front of the container.
As you watch him tap lightly on the glass, you freeze. Is he trying to make Johnny suspicious? What the hell is he thinking? Pointing out something he should have no idea about. I didn’t know he was this stupid.
“Dude, how’d you know?” Johnny asks, looking at Jaehyun with what you can only imagine is a confused-shocked expression.
“Oh, well, for one, it’s brownie batter. I mean, who doesn’t like brownie batter? And when you were in Korea, you saw the flavor and mentioned something about how this was your girlfriend’s second favorite flavor. After cookies and cream, right?”
“Huh,” Johnny opens the door to grab the ice cream. “I don’t remember that at all.”
You like to think you’re a different person than when you and he dated. But being reminded of these things makes you think differently. It feels as if you've been taken back all those years to high school when you depended too heavily on him and weren't as sure of yourself as you'd like to think you were at the time. It makes you feel small and helpless.
“You know what,” you say quietly, and you hope Johnny doesn’t notice the distant tone in your voice. “I think I’m going to try something new. I’ve always wanted to try cherry garcia ice cream, so why not now?”
“Oh, okay,” Johnny says, letting you take the ice cream from his hand and replace it with the new flavor.
You glance one more time at Jaehyun, hoping he can feel your unhappiness at his remembrance, before turning to walk to the checkout. You hear Jaehyun ask your fiancé something in Korean, and you tune out the rest of the conversation as you mindlessly follow the directions on the screen. As if planning a wedding isn’t stressful enough, now I have to deal with Jaehyun almost ruining our ... whatever this is.
As you leave the store, Johnny stops you by lightly grabbing your elbow. “Oh hey, can you guys walk back by yourselves? I have to go pick something up for my mom.”
You look up at him, tilting your head to the side. You don’t want to be left alone with Jaehyun. “Are you sure you don’t want to walk back with us and take the car? It’s a long walk to your parents’ hotel.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “My mom said she’ll pick me up. She’s out and about doing something and said she’d pick me up on her way home. But since she doesn’t know the city that well, she wanted me to get the thing, and she’d come pick me up. Sounds crazy, I know, but that’s how she works. Also, I know this is a really weird thing, but can I borrow your ring? I want to give it to my mom; so she can look at it closely—you know, with me buying it without her knowing my plans and all—and then you’ll never have to take it off again.”
“I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I?” you ask, slowly twisting the ring off.
He chuckles. “No, of course not. I am the one who paid for it, after all.”
“Okay,” you lightly place the ring in his hand. “Do you know when you’ll be back?”
“Well, it’s 3:40 now, so maybe around 5? I’ll definitely be back for dinner. I was thinking we could go out. My treat?”
You nod your head, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Along with not wanting to be alone with his best friend, you feel like your fiancé has been gone a lot. You’re starting to miss him.
“Great,” he leans down, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll see you guys later for dinner, okay?”
Jaehyun nods his head, waving goodbye.
“You can’t do that,” you say as soon as you round the corner.
“Do what?”
“Talk about things you would only know from being in a relationship. You did it with the honey allergy, and now with the ice cream. And yeah, you came up with some good excuses, but how long until you can’t think of one? What then?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
The sarcastic tone in his voice makes you stop in your tracks, grabbing his arm so he’ll face you.
“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to me like that?”
He sighs. “Okay, I know you’re being—I don’t know what the right word is—nice? You know what I mean. You’re being nice by letting me stay in your house. But do you have to talk to me like you’re all high and mighty?”
You laugh in shock, not believing what you just heard. “I don’t know where this is coming from, but I do not appreciate it. You know what you did, so you should consider yourself lucky you’re allowed in my house-”
“It isn’t just your house. Johnny wouldn’t let me sleep in a hotel when he has a-”
“You cheated on me!” you yell, interrupting him. Taking a deep breath, you look around to see if anyone is staring. “You cheated on me, and I told Johnny about it. And you know what? He agrees with me that you were a jerk and that I shouldn’t have to ever see you again. And I’ll be honest. I don’t know if he would want to see you again. But I do know he would be uncomfortable around you. Because guess what? He loves me. And he will take my side, and he will never hurt me like you did. So yes, I am being nice by letting you sleep in our house. Because one word from me, and you’re out.”
You didn’t know you had that in you. Judging by the look in his eyes, Jaehyun wasn’t expecting it either.
“I’m sorry—”
“Nope.
---
Thank you all for reading! Part two should be out sometime next week. Have a great day/night <3
Paring: Johnny x femreader, past Jaehyun x femreader
Warnings: mentions of cheating, none others that I can think of but let me know
Summary: With 99% of your wedding planned and everything finally feeling right, all that is left is waiting for the best day of your life to come. But what happens when someone from your high school, someone you'd rather forget, shows up and reminds you about your shared past? A past that you can't be honest about with your husband-to-be.
synopsis || the best way to scare people this halloween is to make everyone afraid of their deepest secrets being revealed. that’s exactly what the anonymous gossip column is doing. every night at 23 : 59 PM, a huge secret is exposed to all, starting with the notorious bad boy, na jaemin. you can only hope you’ll get through the month safely, but halloween fast approaches, and so does jaemin.
content || female reader, reader is a virgin, mild bullying, the setting is pretty unrealistic, no smut but sexual references.
word count || 6.2k
author’s note || for @underworldnet’s halloween event — day five : midnight.
Summary: When you use Johnny and Ten’s shared computer to send an email, you see that one of the boys is researching rings. You automatically assume it is Johnny’s, but when the truth comes out, you have to tell Ten some of the insecurities you hold in the relationship.
Pairing: Ten x female asexual reader, established relationship
Genre: Angst, fluff.
Warnings: mentions of sex but not mentions of past sex (if that makes sense). Not a warning but we all deserve someone like Ten in our life
Word count: 3.9k
I wrote this and meant to get it out for asexual awareness week but I only had the idea to make it for ace week the last two days. So I’m a few days late!! Thank you to @pastelsicheng for proofreading this for me <3
“Is someone planning on proposing soon?”
Ten feels his heart stop. How did you know? Did you find the ring? He thought he had hidden it well. How was he supposed to know you would look through his safe? How did you even know about the safe?
“I don’t - what do you mean?” he stutters, placing his arm around you. He inwardly facepalms at how nervous he sounds. If you didn’t suspect anything before, you’d sure be suspicious now.
“Johnny– is he proposing to his girlfriend soon?”
He breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god you had your oblivious moments.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the other day, while I was waiting for you to get back with the food, I remembered I had to email my professor and ask him about that abroad program. And I knew if I waited, I would forget. So I asked Johnny if I could use your guys’ computer, and when I opened it, I saw the search history. He was looking at engagement rings and how to pick the right one. Has he not mentioned anything to you about this? I thought best friends, especially ones that are roommates, told each other everything.”
Screw search history and screw Johnny’s once brilliant idea of only getting one computer to share. “Oh no, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he’s just waiting until he actually has the ring?”
I really appreciated getting this view into a sex repulsed ace reader because that is very different from my own experience as an ace. The most important takeaway is that no matter the level of interest in sex or none at all, it is possible to be loved for who you are. I do hope that reader character can make peace with their orientation though. That part was heartbreaking to read.
There is humor to lighten the story and the reader’s insistence they knew something about Johnny rather than Ten was some pretty relatable obliviousness.
Just as the couple in the story are different from each other with Ten presumed to be allosexual, I can say that kind of mixed relationship can be a happy and lasting one after twenty years with my husband. Despite the reader’s worries about divorce rates, I am wishing the couple in the story as much success.
Thank you so much for the reblog and the thoughtful comment. It really means the world to me and I can’t express how happy I am that you took time out of your day to leave such a response to my work. Thank you again
Summary: When you use Johnny and Ten’s shared computer to send an email, you see that one of the boys is researching rings. You automatically assume it is Johnny’s, but when the truth comes out, you have to tell Ten some of the insecurities you hold in the relationship.
Pairing: Ten x female asexual reader, established relationship
Genre: Angst, fluff.
Warnings: mentions of sex but not mentions of past sex (if that makes sense). Not a warning but we all deserve someone like Ten in our life
Word count: 3.9k
I wrote this and meant to get it out for asexual awareness week but I only had the idea to make it for ace week the last two days. So I’m a few days late!! Thank you to @pastelsicheng for proofreading this for me <3
“Is someone planning on proposing soon?”
Ten feels his heart stop. How did you know? Did you find the ring? He thought he had hidden it well. How was he supposed to know you would look through his safe? How did you even know about the safe?
“I don’t - what do you mean?” he stutters, placing his arm around you. He inwardly facepalms at how nervous he sounds. If you didn’t suspect anything before, you’d sure be suspicious now.
“Johnny– is he proposing to his girlfriend soon?”
He breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god you had your oblivious moments.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the other day, while I was waiting for you to get back with the food, I remembered I had to email my professor and ask him about that abroad program. And I knew if I waited, I would forget. So I asked Johnny if I could use your guys’ computer, and when I opened it, I saw the search history. He was looking at engagement rings and how to pick the right one. Has he not mentioned anything to you about this? I thought best friends, especially ones that are roommates, told each other everything.”
Screw search history and screw Johnny’s once brilliant idea of only getting one computer to share. “Oh no, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he’s just waiting until he actually has the ring?”
Summary: When you use Johnny and Ten’s shared computer to send an email, you see that one of the boys is researching rings. You automatically assume it is Johnny's, but when the truth comes out, you have to tell Ten some of the insecurities you hold in the relationship.
Pairing: Ten x female asexual reader, established relationship
Genre: Angst, fluff.
Warnings: mentions of sex but not mentions of past sex (if that makes sense). Not a warning but we all deserve someone like Ten in our life
Word count: 3.9k
I wrote this and meant to get it out for asexual awareness week but I only had the idea to make it for ace week the last two days. So I’m a few days late!! Thank you to @pastelsicheng for proofreading this for me <3
“Is someone planning on proposing soon?”
Ten feels his heart stop. How did you know? Did you find the ring? He thought he had hidden it well. How was he supposed to know you would look through his safe? How did you even know about the safe?
“I don’t - what do you mean?” he stutters, placing his arm around you. He inwardly facepalms at how nervous he sounds. If you didn’t suspect anything before, you’d sure be suspicious now.
“Johnny– is he proposing to his girlfriend soon?”
He breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god you had your oblivious moments.
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the other day, while I was waiting for you to get back with the food, I remembered I had to email my professor and ask him about that abroad program. And I knew if I waited, I would forget. So I asked Johnny if I could use your guys’ computer, and when I opened it, I saw the search history. He was looking at engagement rings and how to pick the right one. Has he not mentioned anything to you about this? I thought best friends, especially ones that are roommates, told each other everything.”
Screw search history and screw Johnny’s once brilliant idea of only getting one computer to share. “Oh no, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he’s just waiting until he actually has the ring?”
“Okay, but when he does purpose, you have to secure me a position as one of the bridesmaids. As the future best man, it would be embarrassing if your girlfriend wasn’t one of the bridesmaids.”
Ten is thankful you aren’t considering the truth—that all the research was done by him to pick a ring for you.
“Yeah, of course. But there’s no guarantee I’ll be the best man.”
You laugh, lightly slapping his arm. “Don’t shut yourself down like that. Of course, you are going to be the best man. Johnny loves you.”
He snorts. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I am pretty great. Who wouldn’t want me to be their best man?”
“That’s the mindset. Now, shall we get this movie party started?”
—
“Johnny!” you call, running to catch up with him.
He smiles, stopping in his place to let you catch up. “Hey, y/n, how are you?”
“Pretty good, pretty good. So, any exciting news you want to tell your best friend-in-law?”
“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think that is a real thing. And if it were a real thing, then I think you would need to be married to Ten.”
“Ah,” you tilt your head back dramatically, bringing your hand up to point at him, hoping to convince him you had caught him in the act. “Interesting choice of word. Married.”
He scrunches his face, lightly pushing down on your hand to lower it. “Okay, weirdo, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it seems like you do. So why don’t you clue me in?”
“Look, John—”
“Johnny.”
“—John, you don’t need to play dumb with me.” You bring your left hand up to wiggle your ring finger. “I know everything.”
He laughs, grabbing your hand to pull you back into a walking pace. “I have class in like five minutes, and you’re not making any sense. So either start making sense or hit the road.”
You click your tongue, dramatically pulling your hand back. “Fine, be that way. And to think, I was starting to like you, John.”
“It’s Johnny. And I’ll see you later, crazy.”
—
“Can you believe it?” you announce, opening the door to Ten and Johnny’s apartment. Ten jumps, nervously shoving his phone into his back pocket. When he woke up this morning and decided today was the day to propose, he decided he would do it at the place you had your first date. He was just about to text you to meet him there, the ring already in his sweatshirt pocket, when you entered the apartment. “Johnny still won’t admit he’s planning on proposing.”
“Hey, great timing. I was just about to text you. How do you know this?”
“I passed him on my way here.” You speak with your back turned to him, opening a cupboard to grab a drinking glass. “I waved my ring finger in his face and everything! Why won’t he just admit it to me? I mean, I know I’m just your girlfriend to him, but I’ve known him since before you two even met. We did go to the same high school, after all. And sure, we didn’t become friends until after we started dating, but still! The fact I knew him in high school has to mean something.”
“Maybe he just wants it to be a surprise for everyone involved. I mean, what if she says no? That would be a hard thing to tell people who knew.” He manages what he thinks is a coherent reply despite still panicking from your sudden intrusion into his home. He closes his eyes, taking a quick breath to calm his nerves. Thankfully, you don’t know he is voicing his own concerns, but the stress that comes with sharing his feelings still lingers.
You nod your head, taking a thoughtful sip of your water. “Yeah, that could be it. But I clearly already know! It bugs me that he won’t just fess up.”
He shrugs. “We will never understand the mind of that man.”
You look at him, glass resting against your mouth. He tries to meet your eyes, knowing it will come off suspicious if he can’t. Try as he might, he finds his line of vision drifting to the wall behind you.
“Are you okay?” you finally ask, and he hears the clink of the glass as you set it on the counter. “You seem a bit jittery.”
“Yeah, I’m okay,”
“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me. Is it annoying that I keep bringing up this Johnny and ring thing?”
He shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just a little nervous today, I guess.”
Your eyebrows furrow and you cross your arms as you lean back against the counter. “Do you know why?”
He chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He feels the ring box, finding comfort in knowing it is still there. “Yeah, I have an idea. But can I talk to you about it?”
You nod your head, pushing yourself off the counter. “Yeah, of course.”
He motions for you to walk to the living room, following behind you slowly. He mentally throws out the plan of giving the ring to the server and having them place it on the plate for you to see. He has a new plan: propose to you in his apartment.
—
Taking a seat on the couch cross-legged, you turn your body sideways so your right shoulder rests against the back of the couch. You look up at him, patting the spot in front of you as a motion for Ten to sit—tilting your head to the side as he just stares back at you, rocking on his feet.
Ten takes a deep breath, and you watch confusedly as he lowers himself to the ground—realization and dread floods over you as he pulls out a velvet box. You shake your head, muttering a ‘no.’
“Y/n?” You can hear the hurt in his voice, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the closed box in his hand, wishing it to magically disappear.
“I- Ten, I really want to say yes, but I don’t think I should.”
He chuckles nervously, pushing himself up from the ground and setting the box on the coffee table. You follow his hand as he sets it down, eyes leaving the box only when you feel the couch dip under his weight.
“What do you mean?”
You sigh, fiddling with your hands nervously. “I mean, everything about it would fail. First, there is the fact that my parents are divorced, so the likelihood of me getting divorced jumps to like fifty percent or higher. Then there is the fact that we’re not even done with our undergrad yet. Weddings are so expensive and adding to the fact that we’re so young, that is two bad factors to start off a marriage: debt and being young. Did you know that getting married too young also increases your chances of divorce?”
“Why do you know so many facts about divorce?”
You’re thankful that despite the anxiety surrounding the situation, his usual humor is still intact. It reminds you that even when things are slightly awkward between each other, you can still be a good couple.
“I wrote a paper on divorce. But Ten, don’t those things scare you?”
“‘Y/n, we don’t need to get married tomorrow. It can happen years down the line.” He leans forward, grabbing both your hands. “All I know is I can’t imagine my life without you. And with you studying abroad next year—not that I’m worried about you leaving me—I feel like you’re going somewhere in life. I want to be there for you, and what better way than to get engaged? And if it scares you, you can call this a promise ring.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m really likely to get divorced. I love you so much, and I don’t want to get divorced from you. You matter too much to me.”
“I love you too,” he repeats, and you can feel the sincerity behind the words. “So what if the statistics say that you’re going to get divorced? I don’t want to get divorced either, but if we do, then it wasn’t meant to be. Your parents are much happier after the divorce, so you know it can be a good thing. Also, what is the other option? Not getting married? You’ll have to face these options eventually. I mean, you want to get married, right? Because if you don’t, then this is a completely different conversation.”
You shake your head, pulling away one of your hands to press it against your forehead. “No, no, I want to get married. I just, I really love the idea of not getting a divorce. I know it isn’t bad, and I know it can be good. I just want to be one of the couples who make it through to the end.”
He smiles. “Yes, and I do too. I promise that once—if—we get married, the communication will not dry up. I will work with you through every fight and every problem.”
“Yeah, but Ten, there is something else.”
He nods his head, silently letting you know to continue. You pull your other hand away and slightly move back to put some distance between you two. You notice the slight hurt that flashes across his face, and you wish you could make it better. The weight of the two words you need to say makes being so close to him too hard, and you feel guilty even touching him.
“I’m asexual.”
He gives you a few seconds to continue, but once it becomes obvious you won’t he chuckles. “Yeah, I know.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “No, I don’t think you understand. I mean, you have been really nice about this for the past two and a half years, but could you really go the rest of your life without sex? I mean, maybe I’ll get to a place where I would be okay with it, but as of right now, the idea of it is just repulsive. I don’t want you to end up hating me. Because I love you so, so much, and the idea of you leaving me because I can’t give you something you want breaks my heart, Ten.”
“Sweetheart, no. I understand what this means, and I’m okay if you never get to that point. I don’t want to have sex with you if you don’t want it, even if you say you’re comfortable with it. I’m fine with how we’ve been going these past few years, and if it means I can spend the rest of my life with you, then it is worth it.”
“But for ten years? Twenty years? Ten, I know I’m repeating myself, but I can’t lose you because of this. You know this means we wouldn’t have kids, right? I mean, we could use a surrogate, but that kid would have none of my DNA. Which I am fine with, and I have never wanted kids of my own. I always imagined myself adopting. But is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, I know that. And honestly, I never cared about how I get kids—I just know I want some. Kids are a way to give my life some meaning; whether it’s through adoption or surrogacy, it doesn’t matter. Because we will raise them together, and they will be our kids.”
You tilt your head back, fanning your eyes. “Can I say something?”
“Yeah, of course, you can.”
“I hate this part of myself,” you laugh painfully and refuse to meet his eyes, afraid of seeing pity. You’ve never voiced your opinion on your asexuality before, and it hurts more than you thought it would to say out loud. “I have tried my entire life to be normal, and then I find this out about myself, and it makes me so different. And I know this isn’t fair, and I know life isn’t fair, but I like to think I have been a very nice person. Why can’t my life be normal? I feel like I am owed that, don’t you? Because let me tell you, high school was when I realized I was ace, but coming here to college is what really wrecked me. People were finally allowed to have sex and talk about sex and have it be normal. That’s when it hit me that I’m really truly different. Sometimes I can forget about it, but it only takes one conversation, or I only have to watch a movie or an episode of TV, and I’m reminded that I am asexual. I hate it, Ten, I really hate it sometimes, and I wish nothing more than to change that about me.”
“Hey, look at me.” You feel the tears well behind your eyes, and you force yourself to look up at your boyfriend. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t change anything about you. Your asexuality—” you snort, bringing your eyes back to the couch below you, hating how it sounds coming from him “—has made you who you are. If you change your asexuality, then you risk changing everything about yourself. Now, I love you for you, and if you weren’t ace, then I don’t think I would love you.”
You look up at him, his words enough to cause the tears to fall. You quickly wipe your eyes, hoping the action will stop the tears. What you told him is true—sometimes you hate this part of your identity. Before you met Ten, you thought you would never find someone who would be okay with not having sex. With your friends talking about how much they wanted to have sex or how good it felt after, you quickly began to feel alienated from them.
During your three years at university, you have only met three other people on the asexuality spectrum; only one of them is the same as you. Even though you had them, you were never able to form a close friendship with them, leaving you back at square one and feeling increasingly lonely. One day, after a meeting with the school’s LGBTQ+ club when you were feeling particularly isolated, you bumped into Ten while losing yourself in the changing leaves.
“Oh, hey, y/n,” he greets, bending down to pick up the book he dropped.
You weakly smile at him, not in the mood to converse. “Hey, Ten.”
“How do you think you did on that test?”
You sigh, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “I think I did okay.”
He nods his head, looking down to brush off the book cover. “That’s good. Hey, do you think we could have breakfast together tomorrow before class?”
You nod your head, not thinking much of the offer. “Yeah, that sounds good. I normally sit alone since none of my friends want to wake up that early, so it would be nice to have some company.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t blame them. If I didn’t have an eight A.M. class, I wouldn’t be waking up at seven either. So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
As you groggily got ready for the day the next morning, you remembered your agreement from the night before. You don’t know why he wanted to eat with you now, halfway through the semester and having barely spoken a word to each other, but the possibility of making a new friend excited you. Becoming Ten’s friend was your goal at the beginning of the semester; the fact he actually seemed interested in the class drew you to him. As the semester dragged on, however, you realized you didn’t have the confidence to start a conversation with him—despite the fact he had started a handful with you and sat in the seat right next to you.
After that meal, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, you had breakfast together. It became an unspoken agreement that you would both show up, and with the new guaranteed routine, you found yourself looking forward to those mornings. It was refreshing to have someone who didn’t remind you that you were different and that seemed to like you for you.
When the semester break approached, and your roommate went home, leaving you all by yourself, you and Ten naturally grew closer. A week later, he asked you on your first date.
“I really love you, but I’m also really scared. I’m scared you’ll realize that I’m broken.”
“Honey, we’re all broken.” He smiles, and you want to mirror the action, but you stop yourself before you can fully commit, not feeling like you can. “I have yet to meet an unbroken person. And honestly, I think people can be perfect because they are broken. Our broken parts—which your asexuality is not—are what make us perfect. So don’t worry, y/n. I won’t leave you because you think you are broken.”
You feel the tears stream down your cheeks once again. You want to say yes, and you want to get married, but the fear that Ten will grow to hate you has too strong a grip. The anxiety surrounding past relationships unsurprisingly followed you into your relationship with Ten. But never before had they been talked about and confronted together. Before, it was always you trying to cope with the anxiety surrounding your asexuality alone. Ten’s confirmation that your sexuality is not a flaw is everything you never knew you needed.
“Hey, you don’t have to say yes if you’re not ready. If you say yes, I want it to be because you want to and not because you feel you need to in order to keep me. If you say no, we’re still going to be a couple. But y/n, sometimes we need to take risks and trust other people. I’m asking you to trust that I will not get bored of you and that I love you enough to be okay with never having sex with you. Because I know I might not get to, and I am one hundred percent okay with that.”
You look at him, hands clasped over your mouth. If you learned anything from past relationships—most of which lasted only three months before the other person realized they wanted to be with someone “less complicated”— is that sex matters to people. At the start of your relationship with Ten, you thought it was only a fleeting thing; after all, despite Ten’s patience with you, why would he be any different? You assumed, like the other people before him, he would grow impatient with you for not physically wanting to have sex with him and end up leaving you. Then before you knew it, six months had passed, and he was still with you. He would stay up with you late into the night whenever your insecurities about your relationship would come up— whether it be your asexuality or the thought that he could find someone better. Two and a half years later and he is still here. It is the love you dreamed about having ever since you were a little girl.
You reach out slowly with one hand to hold one side of his face. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”
He chuckles, leaning into your hand. “It’s the face wash you bought me when you went home. I swear that stuff is a lifesaver.”
You smile, shaking your head in disagreement. “I mean you as a whole. Yes, your face is beautiful, but I mean your personality. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, and I can’t believe you’re settling for me. I’m just so thankful I get to be in your life, Ten, I really am.”
“No, no one is settling here. I’m good for you, and you’re good for me.”
You smile, pulling your hand back into your lap. “And if you ever feel that you can’t handle my asexuality, please let me know. This is my life, but that doesn’t mean you have to put up with it.”
“Okay, but I want to repeat that because it is you, there is nothing I have to put up with. I love you, and anything that lets me stay with you is worth doing.”
You take a deep breath, shaking your hands to try and rid your body of any anxiety. “Why don’t you show me the ring, and then I’ll decide?”
He smiles widely, quickly leaning over to grab the box. Once he has it, he scoots closer so your knees touch. “Ready?”
You nod your head, looking down at the box.
He pulls open the top to reveal a simple silver band with a single round-cut diamond. Your breath hitches in your throat as you stare down at the ring. In high school, you used to look at engagement rings, imagining what it would be like for someone to pick out a ring for you and what it would feel like to be in love. Now that you’re in the moment, though, no amount of prior searching could have prepared you for the feeling of actually receiving one. For the feeling that accompanies knowing someone picked out a ring for you and the implication that they are prepared to spend the rest of their life with you.
“I told the man at the store that you’re a simple, classy girl, and he told me to go for a princess cut,” he whispers. You carefully pull the ring out of the box, turning it slowly to look at it. “But when I saw this one, I knew it would fit you way better. So, what do you say? Is the ring the tiebreaker?”
You slide the ring onto your left finger, looking up at him as more tears run down your face. You laugh happily, pulling him forward into a hug. He pulls you in tighter, burying his face into your neck.
“I love you more than I have ever loved anybody. Thank you for buying me this,” you whisper.
He laughs, pulling away. “I can’t say that’s typically the response to receiving an engagement ring, but I’ll take it.”
“I’ll assume your misty eyes are due to happiness and not because you think I’m saying no?”
He laughs, clasping one hand over his mouth. “Yes, yes, they are. So, we’re getting married?”
You bite your lip, ignoring the queasiness that arises at the words. But you push through it, Ten’s smile encouraging you. “Yes, yes, we are. Years from now, but yes.”
“Yes, years from now, we will be married.”
You gasp, muttering a sorry as he jumps at your sudden outburst. “Does this mean the ring is yours and not Johnny’s?”
“Is that a serious question?”
---
Because this is something new for me (I mean writing about asexuality) I would love to know what you guys thought about it. Happy late asexual week to any fellow aces and even to those not part of the community. If anyone wants to talk about asexuality, feel free to message me or check out this post to learn more about asexuality and what it means. I would love to talk and answer any questions you may have. I also want to say that we should not settle for anything less than a Ten (granted, all our Tens look different) and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Because happy ace relationships are possible.
So let's talk about asexuality! This is an introduction trying to cover as much as possible in a little format, so its mostly surface level stuff. You're gonna have to dig on your own :P
For more information, I recommend checking out aceweek.org or acesandaros.org ! You can also read up on ace history through the Asexual Manifesto by Lisa Orlando !
Actual links and Image description coming in a reblog ;)
Could you do first impressions of your moots please?
i'm only gonna do some ppl, not all bc i think a bunch of my moots are no longer active on here. i also cannot recall my first impression of many ppl lol, just that if i like u then i like u. if i dont then i dont follow back (so basically i liked all my moots from the start lmao)
@hyuckles-chuckles i was kinda intimidated at first bc she's a great writer (one of my favourites on here) and also a popular blog lol (back when i was a tiny blog) so when she followed me back i was like *@(&E*&^*@&*^%&^@%&@^@*!(!)&^%$#%$^&*
@daeguzen so kind and sweet!! one of the first writers i befriended on here i love them
@sunflowerhae first impression was that she is also very kind and a lovely person
@bumblebeenct ok i cant remember my first impression but i've always gotten vibes of the kind old grandma you meet at grocery stores who just starts a convo about food with u lol
@little-cold-hands , @merrycri-sis , @dreamflrt , @chicksung , @drydrops891 babies. all of them are babies.
@mxrcayong cant remember my first impression but she is now one of my bestest friends so i must have liked her a considerably large amount lol <33
@imoonstarstuff another very sweet and kind human
@ggulovebot so much positive energy from her that i loved her instantly lol
@kjmsupremacist very smart and big brain
@purpleheejin honestly i never thought she would be as insane as she is. i thought she was a nice kid on the internet but i was wrong lmao. shes my child tho so its ok <3
@neonun-au can't remember honestly but just that shes canadian. it's instinct for me to bond with any canadian on the internet lmao
@neo-shitty another big brain
@give-seconds i was kinda intimidated but thats bc im awkward af lmao
@leeyuhnotlaayah so nice and sweet!!! and also a very kind older sister
@yoonohing so supportive!!! and nice and kind blah blah (i feel like im saying the same thing for everyone ahsjsajkjksa)
@peachy-writings another big brain, and also a very nice person!!
ok yeah looking back on it im just saying the same thing for everyone but really my first impression of all my moots was that they all seem like great, kind ppl and/or produce great content. i only really follow blogs of writers i enjoy reading content from, or followers/readers that interact with my stuff often (and that i've ended up befriending eventually too). some moots just spam reblog things their interested in or memes and even tho idk anything i still enjoy looking at it haha so really i just follow based on whether i like u or not. i dont actively seek out blogs anymore (i havent in over a year) so really everyones just old moots or recent readers.
anyways lol so in conclusion we learned that i love all my moots!! <3 hope that answers ur ask lol
hello, hello! here are my recs of march! like the recs for the last two months, i’ve decided that its best to do it all on one post instead of multiple posts and having to end up spam some people in the tags😓.
again, they will be separated by aus!
** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **
"Just like the sea that embraces the sky, I will be waiting for your arrival at the horizon, only because I understand, hands holding on this tightly should never be let go of."
▪︎Summary: For two years after he left, you had believed you were totally over your friendship with Liu Yangyang. Nonetheless, he has decided to come back for the summer and, after your mom and his convince you to go on a trip together in compensation for the lost time, he only manages to make you start questioning your feelings all over again.
▪︎Warnings: mentions of food, profanity (please let me know if there's more.)
Playlist: Horizon (WayV), Ease (Troye Sivan), Sincerity is Scary (The 1975), Your Ocean (Hoppipolla), Up From Here (WayV), Coming Home (NCT U)
For @nct-writers "Coming Home" event! Also the biggest!!! thanks to @give-seconds for helping me with this last minute 🥺🧡 Please check out Olivia’s works!
Friday nights were always exciting, especially during summer. Not even working until late or family routine could ruin the fact that Fridays always had too much good energy. Actually, you couldn't complain about Fridays, even if they turned chaotic.
Running orders for 8 hours straight, attending rude customers who couldn't wait long for their food, and the people's screams when they were getting impatient couldn't bother you, not when you knew you would be free for the entire weekend after that. Plus, the pay was decent for someone who didn't have to worry about being on time for the rent or buying food for the whole month.
Having stayed in your hometown after high school while most of your friends decided to study abroad was hard at first, but the comforts of living quietly with your parents and the good friends you made at your summer job would make you forget about it pretty quickly.
You were changing out of your McDonald's uniform when you heard your name being called from downstairs. Your mom's steps up the stairs and to your room could be sensed immediately after, so you didn't even bother screaming back at her to see what she wanted.
"Today is a special day!" She said excitedly, after you told her she was good to enter your room.
"Mom, we literally have dinner at Mrs. Liu’s every Friday."
"But Yangyang is joining us tonight! He came back from college to spend the summer here."
The happiness she carried was noticeable on her face. You knew very well your mom loved Yangyang as if he were her nephew. It had always been like that. You can't deny that when you were a little kid, it made you jealous that Yangyang was your mother's favorite. But now things had changed.
"He asked if you were coming with us. Dress nicely! I think he's pretty excited to see you."
That's strange. You thought as you saw your mother leaving your room. You and Yangyang had been best friends since kindergarten, until he left for college two years ago, and you stayed in the city you both grew up in. Naturally, it made you drift apart.
Nonetheless, that wasn't the exact reason you two stopped talking and seeing each other. The thing is, Yangyang found a girlfriend during the last year of high school; she was sweet, beautiful, and very friendly to you. That last year in school, you would hang out with them as she felt close like a sister, but that was until summer came and Yangyang decided he could only dedicate his time to his girlfriend.
You weren't the jealous type, and you were convinced you didn't like Yangyang, but you surely missed the friendship of years you two had built. You would talk to him to do something or just chill in his room like you used to do, but he was always too busy with his girlfriend. When he had a little bit of free time, he wouldn't contact you. Instead, he would sit on his computer and play games for hours. When he finally agreed to hang out with you –which turned out to be rarely– he had to leave early to see his girlfriend.
At first, it made you really sad seeing that Yangyang didn't want to put any effort into your friendship. But when summer ended, and you managed to see Yangyang only once –and considering you lived next door– sadness turned into anger. You missed your best friend so much, and you grew tired of always being the one showing interest. Friendships can't be one-sided. So you decided you weren't going to beg for affection where there wasn't any for you.
Two years passed like that, barely hearing about him and his college life, because he didn't come back once he moved to the campus. You weren't sad or angry after so much time passed; you just didn't know how you felt towards Yangyang anymore. The only thing you knew was that seeing him again after so long was going to be strange. And maybe, in the deep end, you wished he didn't have to bring his girlfriend with him, so you could at least get a little of his attention.
Standing outside the door of your neighbor’s that Friday night didn't feel as warm and welcoming as usual. The nerves in your stomach told you so. You couldn't quite decipher why you were so nervous, though. Maybe it was because you had a quite stressful week and you were able to relax. Maybe, you didn’t like the smell of food after delivering so many orders at work. Or maybe, it was because you saw it would rain that night, and you hated storms while you were out of your house. And maybe, the possibility that it was from seeing Yangyang again was quite considerable.
—
The moment Yangyang gently touched your back, to seconds after strongly wrapping his arms around your body, you felt the world stop, your knees weaken and your heart accelerate its beats.
"How are you doing?!" He asked, still hugging you tightly. It was hard to believe you were actually hugging your ex-best friend after so long. It felt right. You couldn't deny you endlessly longed to feel him so close again.
"I'm- I'm really good!" Your answer came out shaky because of a nervous laugh you couldn't quite control. The situation only became more dangerous for you when Yangyang decided to rest his lips for a good few seconds on your right cheek.
Because he loved your cheeks, and he knew you loved the affection, but maybe he wasn't aware of the effect on you. An encounter that, you assume, lasted for a couple of seconds, felt like hours until the wave of feelings was too much to handle. Gently placing one hand on his jaw and another on his shoulder, you pushed him away. The air wasn't getting uncomfortable but thicker, too charged because of the friction your rollercoaster of emotions was causing.
Maybe you have liked Yangyang since middle school. The truth was, two years weren't enough to forget the feelings that had been built and maintained for much, much longer. You still loved your old best friend endlessly. But it was also true that, no matter how much you loved him, you couldn't forget all the trouble he had caused you when he left your life. Forgiving and forgetting are two different things.
"You look really good," he acknowledged looking down at you and nodding. "We really need to hang out now that I'm here. I missed you."
His hand found yours, and he held it lovingly. The feeling was nice, and the sight of your intertwined fingers was captivating. Your heart wanted to stay like that forever, hanging from his hands. But your mind kept insisting that you shouldn't go so fast, you shouldn't fall for his charms –although you had already fallen a while ago– because coming and going was something usual to Yangyang. You, on the other hand, had a little bit of a hard time adjusting to his ways of loving and maintaining friendships.
"I missed you as well," you told the truth, with a smile inevitably taking over your face.
"Are we ready for dinner?" Mrs. Liu's voice was present, directing you to take a seat at a table where plates, cutlery and glasses were delicately placed to receive her favorite son with his favorite dinner: ravioli with pesto and so much cheese on top that it was difficult to see the pasta under it. You had always thought it was an awful combination, but your old friend was weird.
Yangyang's mom and yours got close since you moved next to their house that she almost felt like an aunt to you. For that reason, as soon as you sat on the table and intended to start digging after a tiring shift from work, the questions started. 'y/n, how is that cute coworker of you doing?’ ‘Have you made him your boyfriend yet?' And you would answer the same thing every time: 'no, Mrs. Liu, Shotaro and I are just good friends' putting the effort into bringing a polite smile on your face. But your mom surely felt the same towards Yangyang—reminding you every Friday after the Liu's how much she missed her little nephew. In that order, it didn't take long for the questions to reach your ex-best friend.
"You didn't bring your girlfriend this time?" Your mom spoke to him from across the table. It was true that the questions would get annoying when asked to you, but in that precise moment, you thanked your mom for letting you get the information you were too afraid to get on your own.
"I didn't," he replied calmly, mouth full of pasta; it was an old habit of his. "Actually, we broke up months ago."
The sided smile on his face and his calm tone made you suppose they either ended it on good terms or that he was pretty over it at that point. You observed Yangyang's mom silently nodding, hearing his son talking about the breakup of a relationship of almost three years. "I think we reached a point where we were together out of habit, and it was kinda draining me."
"It was the best thing to do. You fought a lot during the end," his mother continued. "But she was a good girl," she ran his eyes from his son to your mom and then back to you to reassure you, "we only have good memories of her."
It wasn't news to you, though, because they already fought a lot back when you were still in high school. Yangyang and you were still good friends, and he would always come to you to clear his head and help him think straight.
During their second year of dating and Yangyang's first year of college, they broke up and got together two times. You knew because he contacted you seeking solace, and you talked for hours on the phone trying to convince him to fix his relationship. These were the only two times you talked to your best friend that year. A little happy new year's text exchange, and nothing else after that.
"Yeah, yeah. It's cool now. We're totally cool," the boy finished before resuming his eating. Nonetheless, you didn't miss the little glances and smiles he sent you as his mother continued to talk about him and his relationship with the girl.
You really didn't know how to feel about the whole situation. Yangyang's behavior was strange, but what felt out of place was that you were kind of happy and relieved knowing he was no longer with someone. It's not that you didn't like the girl; you just had really missed your best friend. Even though you liked to believe you were way past your old friendship with him, no longer hurt or angry at his absence, a minuscule part of you still waited for him to come knock on your door to spend the days together, like you used to do back in school.
Mrs. Liu's living room was still full of pictures of the both of you in their backyard. Pictures of the summer afternoons at the pool where Yangyang taught you how to swim, pictures of your last trip together in the snow, your last vacation at the cabin in the woods, and pictures of the two of you dancing together at your graduation.
But you were adults now. You had a job five days a week, nice co-workers, a career to still take care of, and you had Shotaro, your best friend you met two summers ago.
In the two years you didn't see each other, Yangyang had got to look more mature, so you thought maybe he had stopped playing so many computer games and finally focused on a different thing. He definitely looked taller and more athletic than in high school, which made you wonder if maybe he was spending some of his time at the gym or if he decided to chase his dream of becoming a professional basketball player at college.
Things were different, and no matter how much you missed those old times, you needed to accept you weren't the kids who would spend all afternoon messing around with the ball in his yard anymore.
Mrs. Liu's voice, once again, snapped you out of your state, eyes no longer lost in the memories the pictures displayed all over the house held. "I asked you how work was today?"
"Oh! Uhm, it was pretty good. Busy with teens and families with their little kids, kinda annoying," you had to recognize, "But I got paid today, so I might use the money to go out for the weekend."
"Huh, where are you going?" Yangyang inquired.
"Uh, it's been a while since I've been to the island. I might go for the weekend," you explained to the boy in front of you. "Relax at a nice hotel, you know. Some self-care time."
"That's such a coincidence, isn't it, Yangyang?" Her mother asked him, confusion taking over the boy's features, "Didn't you say you wanted to go to the island too, with your friends?"
"Oh, yeah! Uh-"
"You could go together!" It was your mom's turn to speak, excitedly suggesting that you should make your weekend trip together.
Excellent time to bring such an idea, mom, really. After two years without seeing each other, seriously?
"I mean…" Yangyang tried to speak without being interrupted, his narrowed eyes jumped from your mom, to his, and finally softly landed on you, "That actually sounds like a great idea."
A smile was plastered on his face while looking for any sign of agreement or at least enthusiasm on your side. It was already weird enough having dinner together that night; how could you ever manage a trip together after so long?
But you seemed to be the only hesitant one, as your mom was quick to agree for you. "That's the best idea! Oh, my little kids are going on vacation together again, but this time alone!"
You saw her reach for Mrs. Liu's hand over the table and give it a little squeeze, adoration planted in both their faces looking at you.
"I knew this day would eventually come, but I'm not sure I was ready for it."
"Mom, we'll be gone for only two days," Yangyang said, a little irritated at the two old ladies.
"So we will be going? Like, already confirmed?" The surprise couldn't leave your tone, and you watched Yangyang shrug and smile brightly at you one more time.
If he smiled one more time like that, you thought you could easily agree to whatever he proposed.
"It doesn't sound that bad? Like, I'd really enjoy going with you, and I owe you some time together. You're my best friend."
His words threw you off, and it made you feel guilty that, while he still consider you his best friend, you had dropped that title from him a long ago.
"I'll book the hotel and everything, leave it to me." He already had pulled out his phone from his back pocket, and you assumed he was looking for accommodations at the small island close to the city but with crystalline waters from the ocean.
"Uhm, but… like, I wanted something very specific."
Yangyang looked at you from above his phone screen as you talked.
"Like… a place close to the beach, but it also has to have a pool, and breakfast included, maybe room service, and a spa would be great…"
"Hey, I got it," he flashed that damn smile again, "You trust me, right?"
"Not really."
He only chuckled at you, getting up from the table without saying a word and coming back with a tube of ice cream and two spoons. Cookies and cream ice cream was, firstly, Yangyang's ultimate favorite food; he would go crazy and buy dozens of tubes at the store until one day he got really sick, so his mother didn't let him have it more than one time a week. And secondly, your favorite flavor to share together since you had memory. It was an exclusive Yangyang-and-you thing.
—
"I'm leaving like, right now."
You struggled to get the suitcase down the stairs, phone dangerously stuck in between your shoulder and ear as you spoke to Shotaro.
"This is so crazy. Are you gonna tell me everything that happens? None of that 'what happens in x place stays in x place," you heard your friend's voice through the speaker.
"Taro, nothing's gonna happen. I'm gonna spend all day switching locations from the spa to the restaurant and vice-versa."
"Sure, honey." You knew he was rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone. "You're going on a trip with your lifelong love! All the plans you have right now, would be ruined as soon as you get there together."
"I know," you sighed, looking at your suitcase, now waiting down in the house entry. "Taro, this is so fucked up."
"Yeah… you are so fucked up," you heard him agree while laughing. "But like, are you sleeping in the same bed?"
"Fuck no. Separate beds, I made that clear."
"Good… You could still sneak in, though."
"Shotaro," you warned him, "I promise absolutely nothing will change after this ridiculous trip. I like, really even doubt we are gonna spend much time together."
"Yeah," you heard him sigh on the line, not believing a word coming out of you, "just wait until you tell me about it when you come back."
He wished you luck dealing with your ex-best friend, you exchanged goodbyes and that was pretty much it, leaving a laughing Shotaro at the end of the call.
Yangyang insisted he would pick you up even if you lived next to each other. You were already waiting outside your door, suitcase in hand, when you saw him show off his ability, moving back his car five meters to stop in front of you. Wearing sunglasses, a backwards cap smoothing his long brown hair, and a smirk on his face. It was typical Yangyang behavior.
He rolled down the passenger side window and leaned until you could see his huge smile. It was the same smile he wore the first day of preschool, the same smile that never failed to brighten your high school mornings up, and the same smile that more than once had already made you question your heart.
There were things about Liu Yangyang that, no matter how much time passed or how much you wanted to deny it, would always make you feel the same about him. Like that first day of preschool when you decided you wanted to see that beautiful smile for the rest of your days. That you coincidentally lived next door only made it easier for you to fall for his charms over time.
"Hey, shawty!" He called and motioned you to get in the car. "Get in here for once!"
"You are so extra," you told him once you were sitting in the passenger seat. "You really didn't have to do all that. I could've just walked to your car."
"But I'm good at driving backwards, aren't I?" He lowered his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose to slightly watch you over them, brows going up and down and wearing a smirk, suggesting that you better agree he's the best driver in town for going five meters on reverse.
"Alright, Schumacher. Where are we going?"
"Liberty Island, duh," he replied,an obvious tone in his voice, starting to leave the city.
"You're so funny," yet, your face didn't reflect any fun. "I mean, which hotel did you book?"
"Oh," you saw a smirk coming to light again, "It's a very good one, it has all you want, and it will take only an hour to get there. I don't know how to get there, though."
"You're kidding."
Since the moment he assured you he had "everything under control" when you started planning the trip, things felt a little odd. Trusting your gut always meant doubting Yangyang's decisions, just like right now, when neither of you knew how to get to Liberty Island. You couldn't blame him, though, because you weren't any better. The trips to the land were always made with your parents or the school. Not that you paid much attention to the way all those times, let alone Yangyang, who was always immersed in his mobile games every chance he got.
Luckily for the two of you, devices these days could get you anywhere. So after arguing for a little just for the fun of frustrating each other, a road trip playlist you had made the night before was blowing through the speakers, sometimes interrupted by the GPS lady giving indications.
In contrast to the prior night storm, during that early morning, the sky was clear blue, and the sun shined just the right amount to touch your skin and leave it warm. A summer breeze was felt running as it entered through the driver's opened window, constantly messing with Yangyang's hair while he sang to the entire music selection.
"Stop staring, creep," the glance he gave you was quick to regain focus on the road.
You made sure you had stopped daydreaming and probably smiling like a fool while watching your friend drive. But his smile was too contagious.
"I'm sorry," he continued, "I know I've been a shitty friend."
"It's okay," and it truly was okay after so long. There was no point in faking it for him or for yourself. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
It wasn't hard to feel at ease with him again, it was easy to recall all the good times you've spent together, and that's why it had always been so easy to just love him. Platonically or not, he made love feel so boundless and timeless; it was just right to be there with him.
"Should we play a game, and the loser has to pay for the rest of the hotel stay?" You heard him propose after a while.
A confused look took over your face. Again, trusting Yangyang to take care of everything should have never been an option. "But I thought you said you were going to take care of it?"
"Technically, I only paid for the reservations. Rock, paper, scissors, and the loser pays."
You should've seen this coming seventy-five kilometers earlier.
"Hell no, I hate rock, paper, scissors. If we do this, we better play word-chain."
"That's even better," he said, a mischievous smile showing. "You start, and don't go easy on me just 'cuz I'm a foreigner."
"Don't get too excited. You're gonna lose all that confidence in a few minutes, and I'm not paying for a thing," you stated before thinking hard on the first word. "Car."
"Reunion."
"Uhhh, nap."
"Nap?" Yangyang asked, chuckling. "You tired?"
A smile inevitably formed on your lips hearing his laugh. "Yeah, kinda."
"Alright, so P?" He asked, turning his head to you momentarily, and you quickly nodded in response. "Alright, so, P… pretty."
"Dude," a protest came out of you along with a sigh, "that's such a hard letter… yesterday," you followed after a few seconds.
"Y again… yummy."
"Yummy?"
"Justin's song! That's a thing!"
You sighed one more time, not sure if it was because of your companion's questionable music taste or because you had to think of another word starting with y. Again. The morning sun had started to hit a while ago, and it was warming you as much as it was making you sleepy. Leaving with an empty stomach did not make the situation any better. You missed the breakfast your mom prepared for you because you woke up late.
"Yolk?" The next word finally presented, a big yawn escaping you in the process.
The sun coming through the car windshield kissed your skin, giving it an additional glow and reddening to your cheeks. And as he observed you getting sleepy like a baby on a morning trip, it was getting harder and harder for Yangyang to think of another thing to say besides compliments for you.
"Cute."
"That starts with C, not with K, dumbass," you told him while keeping your eyes closed, ready to go to sleep on the passenger seat.
"No, you look cute," he clarified, laughing again. "And your face is getting all red."
"It's because the eleven a.m. sun is starting to hit, and you wouldn't turn the goddamn air con on."
You got up from your seat to get to action and get the inside of the car a little bit more chilly. Yes, it was starting to feel like hell inside the vehicle. But inside your head, the blood was rushing and accumulating, raising your cheeks' temperature even more because of Yangyang's comment. But you could never admit it out loud—not after two years of not seeing each other.
"Are you sure it's not because I called you pretty and cute?"
"You ever get red from excitement because you won a game over spending a considerable amount of money?" You asked, head still resting on the car window with your eyes closed.
"You didn't win, game's not over yet."
"Yang, you know the rules. You said the wrong word, so you pay for the hotel."
A combination of whines, curses and attempts to keep fighting the fact that you already had decided he was going to pay for the hotel left Yangyang's mouth. It didn't stop you from isolating and managing to sleep for what felt like a good couple of minutes before he had to bother you again.
"Would you caress my arm?"
The question immediately brought you back to the trip you had with your class during the last year of school. Yangyang already had his girlfriend back then, but that wasn't an impediment from spending some friendly, good quality time together. It made you feel bad, but when she wasn't around, he was very different towards you. And maybe he acted differently in a platonic way; you would've never tried to cross the friendship boundaries while he was in a relationship, no matter how much you loved and wanted to be with your best friend all the time. But the week you two spent together during that trip felt really good.
He had asked you the exact same question back there. On a loud bus, busy with people too excited to be able to sleep, you still managed to find the tranquility beside him. The seats weren't the most comfortable and the interior of the old bus at night got pretty cold, but it didn't matter at all with Yangyang by your side. His big puffer jacket found place over the two of you, keeping you warm, allowing you to fall asleep holding hands under it.
It was one of the best weeks of your adolescence. The most memorable parts being the burgers after coming back from the club at three in the morning, accidentally napping together after an exhausting excursion, or that morning you broke a plate when you arrived too sleepy for breakfast, and Yangyang decided to cover you so you wouldn't have to pay for the damage.
"You're going to fall asleep."
"I won't, I swear. It's only twenty minutes until we get there," he asked once again, extending his right arm to you even more, expectantly waiting for your delicate fingers to start brushing his skin.
–
Arriving at the hotel, driving down the cobblestone streets, trees as old as the ruins of the island's first habitants adorned the roadsides. The calm and peaceful feeling came with the soft and warm summer breeze and ruffled your and Yangyang's hair, still sitting inside the car, absorbing the beauty of the place no matter how many times you have already visited it as children.
Car parked in front of an old but remodeled building, Yangyang awaited you with the passenger door open and bags in hand for you to get out. The hotel really seemed to have everything you wanted for this weekend. Bikes parked on the driveway pavement ready to explore the surrounding countryside, a nice pool peeking out from behind the building, and access to the beach. An old, covered pier by the sea awaits the residents of the ranch to create more moments in it, with its old promises of love and friendship engraved on the worn wood.
Checked in and key in hand, you followed your old friend up the wooden, thick stairs to your shared room. You always used to have sleepovers when you were kids, so you didn't understand why the idea of sleeping in the same room as Yangyang suddenly felt so weird.
However, everything became officially weird the moment Yangyang put the key in the lock to open the door and, walking down the small hallway, the first thing you saw was a king-sized bed waiting for the both of you. No sight of any single beds, nothing in the middle of that large mattress that would indicate that it was actually two small individual beds joined together.
"Yangyang," an exasperated sigh left you, eyes closed, holding the bridge of your nose, "there's seriously only one bed?"
"Dude, don't complain. I'm paying for all this."
You watched him enter the room ahead of you. There wasn't a single trace of discomfort in his voice or demeanor. Were you the only one feeling so weird about sleeping on the same bed again? Was it because, maybe, you realized you liked him way more than before?
You followed him inside to start accommodating your bags. "But there weren't, like, single beds?"
"There weren't," the look you gave him must have made him think that he should have given a better excuse than that, so he added, "single beds for single rooms. And there were rooms with like, three beds. But that's more expensive, y/n. One room with a double bed was cheaper than two singles."
You looked at him, perplexed, before closing your arms and simply stating, "that's bullshit."
"It's not!"
"You had one job, Yangyang. I knew I couldn't trust you to book the hotel."
—
After settling down and deciding on which side of the bed (separated by a good amount of pillows in the middle) you were going to get, the two of you decided to go outside and explore a little bit of the surroundings. That was when you found an old but still functioning basketball court. Yangyang was quick to grab a ball and drag you into a game of baskets.
Ever since he was little, Yangyang had been passionately playing ball. So, after a few minutes of playing holeshot, it was no surprise when the tally both of you had on the game indicated that Yangyang was outscoring you by about fifteen points.
At some point, it became a game of who was best at blocking the other from getting the ball into the basket. Laughter could be heard more than the hitting of the ball against the ground. You would weakly try and wrap your arms around Yangyang's torso to stop him from moving and getting more points. Anything, to win at least one round, even if you had to play dirty.
"You know," you stared as the ball left Yangyang's hands and went in and out the basket one more time, giving him another point, "I think I just brought the wrong shoes."
Yangyang's only response was bursting out laughing at your silly excuse. "You're just bad at this. You've always been."
He stopped his movements and got closer to you, bangs sticking to his forehead thanks to the sweat from all the playing under the midday sun. You were sure your skin would be bright red tomorrow, yet you didn't care. It felt like going back to your childhood days in Yangyang's backyard, where you would play every day under the sun, leaving you with your skin burnt by the end of the summer. The irregular tan marks you got because of constantly playing with different tops always made your mom a little mad.
Exhaustion took over the both of you, so you didn't need much words to agree that Yangyang had indisputably won the game and that you needed a deserved break after working out for the first time in months.
A small and light lunch was prepared under the shade of the old and worn dock. Some fruit Sandos, a couple of caprese sandwiches, some sodas, and a bag of chips –because your friend couldn't live without these– that Yangyang had previously packed in his house were arranged on a cute little blanket. You sat facing each other, calmly coming down from the excitement of the game and quietly enjoying each other's company. The sound of the waves was the only companion to fill a silence that wasn't uncomfortable at all.
The digestion of the food was spent between random chats catching up with your lives and a lot of laughter, remembering old times you had spent together. Towards the middle of the afternoon, after having collected the remains of the small picnic, you found yourself playing in the waves with Yangyang.
Not once did he let go of your hand, scared that the force of the troubled water would take you too far from him. And not once was the brightness of the sun as strong as the smile of the boy who stayed all the time by your side until you had to get out because its temperature was descending.
You watched the sunset together, wrapped up in your hoodies and a shared blanket. The warm tones of the sunset painted the entire landscape, along with your skin, and shined directly in your friend's eyes. The same eyes that once held the promise he would always be with you. As well as the horizon that held the promise that a big shiny star would come back to meet the sea every day.
"Stop staring, creep."
His soft yet playful tone snapped you out of your trance, making you hide your face from the embarrassment of being caught, admiring your friend's beauty under the light of the remaining rays.
"Sorry, it's that you're ugly," you tried to play it cool, but the blush in your cheeks betrayed you, even under the intense orange light hitting your skin.
That didn't go unnoticed by Yangyang, who only took the opportunity to make you blush even more. It was his favorite thing to do, giving you compliments and its after-effects. "Well, I think you're really pretty."
—
Later that night, after the two of you had a fancy dinner in beach clothes at the hotel restaurant, you went up to the room ready to sleep. All of this aside, it was almost impossible to actually get in the room because of the big elephant waiting for your friend and you.
The truth was those feelings that you had had throughout high school and towards Yangyang had managed to flourish and intensify through the day. Or maybe they had never died in the first place.
On the other hand, it was undeniable that Yangyang had been flirting with you ever since you got into his car that morning. If you were a little skeptical, you could say since you sat across the table from him the night before.
The thought alone that Yangyang possibly liked you back made you foolishly smile in the middle of your brushing of teeth. Through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, you observed him standing by your side, the corners of his lips turning up at the sight of your dreamy smile. It was a new image that you longed to get used to in your everyday life, along with all the little and domestic moments that reminded you of when you basically lived together. The lunch, the games, the endless talks about nothing and everything. If he didn't spend all day in your house, you would do it at his place.
By the time you were done with your night routine and out of the bathroom, Yangyang was already laying on top of the bed and in the middle of his essential night routine. He wore the same pajamas with his cats' faces imprinted on them that he kept since the last time you had a sleepover together. Multiple sounds and voices were coming out from his mobile, indicating that he was in the middle of a game battle. Probably a match of League of Losers with the rest of the game addicts. That was, the rest of your high school friends.
Hesitantly, you tucked yourself on the bed by his side, still leaving a good portion of space between you and him. Unconsciously, you spent all afternoon preparing yourself for that moment. You didn't want anything to feel weird, as it didn't feel the same to you sleeping in the same bed with Yangyang after realizing you still liked him. The long to be physically closer, to caress his beautiful features, or to hold him against you for a long time only grew more every minute you spent with him.
You had been handling it all just fine. Until a different reality– the one of not sleeping in the comfort and security of your room– hit you.
"Oh shit."
Yangyang briefly looked at you, sheets covering you up to your neck ready to drift out, so he closed the game and left the phone on the nightstand next to the bed, joining you under the cloth. The action surprising you. "What's wrong?"
"Uhh," you tried to think of a way to make your words not sound stupid or immature, knowing that Yangyang could use the following information to tease you forever, "you didn't bring a plushie with you or something like that, right?"
"I didn't. Why do you need a plushie, anyway?"
"The last couple of months I can't… really… I don't know why but I can't sleep alone, you know," the confession finally came out of you at the same time you dared to look in his eyes. "So I hug my cat or a plushie."
You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to comfort yourself, already feeling like it would be a long night just trying to fall asleep for hours. It had been a long time since your thoughts would do nothing but invade your head at night and cause you some irrational fears. You had discovered that hugging your cat or one of the big stuffed animals you had bought just for that, while some movie played in the background and filled the silence, helped you fall asleep faster.
"Dude," your friend called for you, a smirk appearing on his lips, and he said, "I'm literally right here if you wanna hug someone to sleep."
The thought had crossed your head you couldn't deny. Yet, you would never want to cross those kinds of lines after so long without sharing a sleeping space with him. On the other hand, it seemed like all the flirting and the sudden physical closeness didn't affect Yangyang at all. He had always been a natural flirt anyway. Which made you question, one more time, if you were the only one with the feelings on the surface in that room.
"We could like, hold hands or something?" You proposed, as your voice only got smaller and smaller. "I'm sure that should be enough."
It wasn't, though, but you think Yangyang sensed it as he got closer to you under the sheets and held your left hand tightly. Without letting go of him, you turned on your side to face him, and closed your eyes as some movie kept playing and illuminating your friend's profile. You could feel the warmth that radiated off him, and as the two of you were exhausted from playing all day under the sun, it didn't take much time for you to let yourself fall in Morpheus' arms.
—
The constant dripping of rain against the windows and against the floor of the room's balcony brought you out of your sleep. Waking up to a rainy day on the weekends could make you feel many different ways. Generally, you would spend them alone, with the only company of music and nostalgia, not being able to be outside distracting yourself.
Yet, the atmosphere as the water droplets kept falling and resonating in the ceiling felt very soothing. At some point of the night, your body had entangled and found refuge in your friend's arms. And the pillows and the hotel's mattress were the best quality, but you discovered that nothing compared to the comfort of Yangyang's chest under the side of your head.
You didn't dare to move or change your position even long after you woke up, as the urgent need to be in his arms hadn't ceased, but it had calmed. You knew right away that you were afraid of getting used to that sense of home –the one that was Yangyang– too quickly.
The arm under your side started to move, and the soft tips of his fingers caressed your back affectionately. At the same time, his morning voice came out to leave goosebumps on your skin in contact with his touch. "We should've checked the weather before we came."
Still drunk on sleep and his touches, only a soft laugh and a nod of your head could come out as a response.
It didn't feel unfamiliar, and it didn't feel out of place. It was just right and lovely to wake up in Yangyang's arms. The kiss he left on top of your head after you tightened your grip around him only added to that warm feeling of being home.
"We could have some breakfast."
You turned your head and rested your chin on his chest, and with his arms still holding you in his embrace, your gaze searched for him when he was already looking at you. His messy hair spread out on the pillow and the raspy voice that came out of him only indicated a good night's sleep.
You nodded once again, returning to your initial position, a cheek pressed against the old but still soft cat pajamas. You could already hear your stomach growling and demanding to be fed.
"You think it would be weird if we kissed?"
Now, that question made you start doubting reality. Waking up wrapped in Yangyang's arms already felt a little unreal. The sense of peace and calm was so strong you would have believed it was all a dream and that you never woke up from the night before in the first place.
But as you slightly sat up on the bed to see if he was being serious, and after making sure there wasn't any expression that indicated he was joking, you only could think of:
"It could turn out weird."
He was your best friend, for goodness sake. He was the same boy who lost his swimming shorts at that same island when you were thirteen, so he had to borrow one of your floral ones and wear it until you came back from the school trip. The same boy, who once tried to fill the class' water dispenser with cola, but you ended up drinking tasteless brown colored water for weeks. And also, the one who gets confused and ends up eating cat food instead of cereal.
"But some friends kiss each other."
"Yeah, but," you tried to think of an excuse, "I have morning breath."
It's not that you never thought of kissing him, as you had the biggest crush on your best friend since you were in middle school. But somehow, something was stopping you from doing it. Maybe it was too soon, and you had too little time to process a lot of emotions. Or, maybe, it was because boys who obsessed over computer games totally turned you off.
"I don't really care," he insisted with a shrug, "I want to kiss you."
You sighed. But you could try and give it a chance?
"Not sure if this is gonna work out-"
Yet, Yangyang was determined to have a good morning kiss. "Why? You don't like me?" He inquired after interrupting you.
"No– It's definitely not tha-"
"Is it because you've never kissed someone before?" He pressed.
"What? No, it's just-"
"You gotta know," he reached for your hand and started to caress the back of it, "you don't have to be embarrassed about never being kissed before." He looked at you dead serious.
"Yangyang, I've kissed others before," your tone now carried a note of annoyance.
"So you just don't want to kiss me."
"I'll kiss you if you stop being so fucking annoying."
You saw him smirk. "Okay."
It went by pretty fast. You could feel the softness of his lips on yours and the tip of your noses touching, but it was a quick, short, dry kiss. Just the mere contact of his thin lips for a few seconds. No movement, just a lot of tension.
It felt, indeed, really weird. Maybe it was because you've spent too much time as friends, you thought. Perhaps, as much as you wanted to grow closer and closer to Yangyang and share much more with him, it wasn't what destiny had planned for you. Perhaps, not all friends could casually kiss.
"Maybe we just have to grow accustomed to it," his voice took you away from your thoughts.
"Do you… want to try again?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion while looking at him.
He took both your hands in his to bring you closer to him, the two of you still sitting in the middle of the king-sized bed. Outside it was still raining, but the subtle sun rays were sneaking through the curtains and illuminating the features of the boy in front of you. His eyes held sincerity and remained fixed on yours. There was a promise hidden there that, in reality–he hoped–, wasn't necessary to say out loud for you to know how much he actually loved you.
"y/n, I love yous between you and me don't feel friendly anymore," he confessed, "at least for me. And I want to try to kiss you again right now."
He came a little closer and took your face in his hands, to gently caress your cheekbones and then outline your lips with his thumb. His gaze couldn't stop drifting from between them and your own eyes.
"I want to be able to keep kissing you from now on, not as just friends."
He finished the sentence in a whisper that hit your lips and got entangled with your own breath before you crashed your mouth against his, this time sharing a real kiss. None of you needed many more words. After a weekend of reunion and tension, flirty comments, gazes full of adoration, and your feelings blooming all over again, your passionate kiss was enough to give him the permission to keep doing that for as long as he pleased. The smile that he couldn't suppress in between kisses and the way he held onto you reassured you of his previous confession. Indeed, I love yous between the two of you weren't just friendly anymore.
The rest of the day was spent cuddling and eating breakfast in bed, then crashing at a pillow and blankets fort and watching movies cozied up together as the afternoon arrived.
"I missed you a lot," you turned your head to look at him squished on your side as your second movie choice came to an end. "Please, don't leave me again."
The sun was setting once again, painting the sky in lilacs and pinks, coloring the room with its light and indicating that more rain was to come later in the night. Rain could empower reunions and hasten goodbyes, so it was still a bit difficult to get rid of that uncertainty installed in your chest.
"It's inevitable that I'll have to go again, and you will stay here," he said, putting you in a hug for the millionth time that day, "but we will see each other, I promise. You can come visit anytime, seriously, and I'll also come back to you."
Through the balcony window, you could see far into the distance how the sun returned to the sea in the horizon. There was something melancholy about sunsets, but there was also a promise in them, just like in the eyes of your best friend when he was looking directly at you and the evening lights reflected in them.
"When you miss me, and I'm not here, go to the beach and look for the horizon. Know I'll be thinking about you every time I see the sky and the ocean touch each other, and hopefully, you won't feel so lonely. Even on rainy days when we can't go out, I know the raindrops connecting the sky and the sea will remind me of you."
He finished with a gentle kiss on your cheek, and drying a single tear that had escaped after hearing him talk.
"Why does this feel like it's the end of summer?" You asked in a whisper, no longer sad or doubtful but finding some calm and comfort in the promise of the horizon.
"I know, right?" He laughed softly. "But I came back for you, so I'm staying with you."
And what you loved the most about the feeling that an ending was near, is that, in fact, you knew you still had a lot of time to stay in each other's arms, to watch countless sunsets together and to keep chasing for the promise of coming back to one another no matter what.
Summary: You and Mark are all each other have, he’s easily the most important person to you. But something happens and you both are slowly separated, so you work your hardest to be accepted into a college in Korea so you can find your way back to a home with him again.
Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Warning: mention and a brief description of an anxiety attack
---Part 14
Today is the day; today is the day Mark is coming. The only thing that could make the day better would be if Donghyuck isn’t being so weird.
You first noticed it this morning when he gave you a half-smile on his way to the bathroom before disappearing for an hour. You chalked it up to him starting the morning off on the wrong foot, but when he announced he was going on a run, you knew something was wrong. In all your time knowing Donghyuck, you had never seen him go on a morning run.
You distracted yourself by asking Jimin and Daeun to teach you some Jeju dialect. But no matter how hard you tried, the nagging thought that he is avoiding you persists. You find yourself looking around the room, hoping he would both walk through the door while also hoping he wouldn’t. You hate confrontation, but you can't stay in his house if he is avoiding you. It feels too much like intruding.
You excuse yourself to use the bathroom, sighing as you close the door behind you. You need Mark. He'll know what to do.
---
Mark can hardly contain his excitement. He had been too excited to sleep, the idea of getting to spend the holiday with you and Donghyuck causing him to wake up earlier than normal. When you two were kids, holidays had always been weird. When he lived with your dad—and yes, he knows he’s not supposed to think about that time like that—you had obviously never celebrated the Korean holidays. The only holidays you celebrated were Christmas (and one year Hanukkah, one year Kwanzaa, and cycling through different December holidays) and easter.
He pushes himself out of bed, feeling too much energy to lay around. He chuckles to himself, wishing every morning would be like this.
Pulling his door open, he stops at the sound of his mom’s voice. He’s not sure what makes him stop, but instead of walking into the kitchen as he planned, he leans his forehead against his cracked door to listen to the conversation.
“I think we should do something to stop him from going.”
“You know we can’t do that.” His dad responds. “This is something he’s really excited about. We can’t take that away from him.”
His mother sighs. “You can’t expect me to just let him go! I mean, it’s her. What if she tries to, I don’t know, take him again?”
Mark closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He can feel tears forming in his eyes. He knows his mom dislikes you, and he thought he had come to terms with that. But sometimes, it was hard for him to live with that fact. He hates knowing there is someone who dislikes you for being yourself.
His dad sighs. “Eu-In, you know she had nothing to do with what happened, don’t you? She was practically a victim as well.”
“Are you taking her side?” His mom scoffs, sounding offended. Something else
“No, I’m not—”
“You can’t be serious. You’re picking her over your own son?”
“Of course I’m not picking her over Minhyung. How could you ever say something like that?”
“Good.” Mark cringes at his mother’s tone. He would never say he is afraid of her, but when she uses that tone, and she convinces you she’s already won, he would never think of defying her. “Because you can’t trust her. I’m sure whatever is wrong with her father is wrong with her. She’s a psycho, just like her dad. And once she breaks, I don’t want Minhyung anywhere near her.”
That is all he needs to hear. He quietly closes his door, jumping back into bed and pulling the blankets over his head. Curling into a ball, he squeezes his eyes shut. He tries to keep his breathing under control. He knows what is coming, and he doesn't want it. He isn’t ready to have another anxiety attack; he thought he had outgrown them.
He hates feeling like this. Helpless. It brought him back to when he was younger and couldn’t help you. He thought now that he is in college and older, he can protect you—like a proper big brother should.
But he isn’t the big brother who can protect you from anything. Instead, he’s a coward who is having some kind of anxiety attack. He pulls the blanket away from his head, wrapping it closer around himself as he struggles to breathe.
He just wants everything to be okay. He wants to be able to be around you without feeling guilty. He wants to be able to live without the constant feeling he is doing something wrong just by being himself. The moment since you and he were rescued, people have been telling him that it’ll be “okay.”
No one ever explained to him what “okay” meant. He just assumed, one day, he’d wake up and just know what okay meant. He thought he had found that sort of peace when you first found him in Korea. He went to bed feeling deliriously happy and ready to start the day off as a new person. And then he woke up.
He realized nothing had changed. He is still supposed to look down on you because you are a Quinn. He has to be against you, or there is something wrong with him. Some days, he could handle it. But right now, the image of his mom’s pitying eyes felt like too much.
He gives up trying to get his breathing under control and lets out a muffled sob into the blanket. He can’t get out of here fast enough.
---
Donghyuck knew saying he was going on a run was a bad excuse, but he needed to clear his head. And what better place to clear his head than the park where he and Haknyeon spent hours talking and playing?
“Hey, I thought I saw you pass by.”
He smiles up at Haknyeon, patting the space next to him. “Good morning Hyung, how are you?”
“Seeing as it’s only ten in the morning,” he starts, taking a seat next to him, “and I only got ready once I saw you pass by, I’d say pretty good. So what brings you out here?”
Donghyuck sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’ve found myself in a kind of pickle.”
Haknyeon snorts, smiling fondly at him. “Ah, Hyuckie, I’ve missed you. Now tell me about this pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“It’s stupid, really. I shouldn’t even be involved.”
“But?”
“But I don’t know. Minhyung and y/n have this deep relationship? I don’t know how to describe it, they have been friends since childhood. The only thing is, I’ve never heard my friend talk about her until she came here. And now they’re all buddy-buddy.”
“Do you feel jealous? Are you worried that you might lose your friend?”
Donghyuck sighs again, leaning back against the bench. “No, I don’t think I am. What I think it is, is that I think they’re not telling me the full truth. And I know it isn’t my place, but I can’t help but feel like I need to know more.”
“What makes you think they’re hiding something from you?”
“It’s like I said, he never mentioned her until she showed up. And when I asked them about it, they said it was because his mom hates her. And when I asked her why she thought that, she said because her dad overstepped his boundaries when it came to him or something like that. She didn’t say anything more, but what does that mean? And I know it isn’t my place to push, but I just— I don’t know.”
“Oh my dear Hyuck, I’m afraid I don’t understand your curiosity.”
“I think it’s because you don’t know them like I do. There is just something in the way they talk about their childhood—like they’re tiptoeing around something. And I guess I want to know why they don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
“Oh,” Haknyeon chuckles, “you’re afraid of being left out.”
“No no, that isn’t it.”
“I think it is. I’ll be real with you. Friend groups of three almost never work out. Even if they do, someone is bound to feel left out. Now, y/n seems like a lovely girl, so if you just talk to her and tell her how you’re feeling, I’m sure you guys could have a good conversation.”
“But I did talk to her! She said she didn’t know how much she could say or something like that. If she was willing to have an honest conversation with me, she would’ve told me then.”
“Hm, Minhyung then?” Haknyeon purposes, tilting his head.
“I also talked to him. He said he didn’t know how much y/n was comfortable with him saying. Again, they don’t trust me enough to tell me everything.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Haknyeon says, and Donghyuck turns to look at him in confusion, “But I think I can’t give you the advice you want.”
“What do you mean?”
His friend shrugs. “I think you want me to say something about how they trust you or something. And I don’t doubt that they do. But I think they just have their secrets. You have some, Minhyung has some, and y/n has some. One of their secrets just so happens to be between the two of them. It’s nothing against you.”
Donghyuck sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I know. And I don’t know what kind of advice I was looking for, so don’t worry about disappointing me. I have this ugly feeling of jealousy and insecurity because they won’t tell me the full truth. I don’t know how to not let it affect my relationship with them. I mean, I may be kinda avoiding y/n because Minhyung Hyung is coming today, and I feel like I need to stay away from them.”
“Did you tell them that last bit?”
“No.”
“Well, you should. Nothing is going to be solved by avoiding it.”
Donghyuck nods his head in silent agreement. He knows Haknyeon is right, but he doesn’t know if he wants to have that kind of conversation. Maybe he just needs to give it some more time or spend the day with you two, and he’d feel better. He’d be able to laugh and call himself crazy for ever feeling like this.
When you two go to pick Mark up at the airport, and the first thing he does is give you the biggest hug, Donghyuck knows he is wrong. The way Mark holds you close, he can tell something is wrong with his friend. And the fact he isn’t the first person his hyung goes to is the final nail in the coffin. His feelings of needing to escape increases the longer he looks at you two.
When Mark gives him a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, Donghyuck returns the same tired smile. Something in Mark's eyes changes, and Donghyuck knows he notices Donghyuck's hesitance. They're drawn out of their trance when you mumble a soft "let's go." You grab Mark's hand and send a quick look Donghyuck's way before walking towards the exit.
Donghyuck falls behind a few steps, watching as you two walk with interconnected hands. For a fleeting second, Donghyuck imagines a life where you two get together and leave him behind. He quickly dismisses the thought, knowing even if you two got together you wouldn't leave him completely.
So he stuffs his insecurity down, saving it for later.
---
I’m back! I’m sorry it took me so long to update, school and such got a lot. But I promise to dedicate more time to writing. I would love to know what you thought and have a great day/night!
Summary: Three years ago, Yuta broke your heart. He decided he was done with you and left. So you picked up the pieces and moved on. You were going to show him you didn’t need him. But what happens when he shows up one day seeking forgiveness?
Paring: soccer player!Yuta X gender neutral reader
Word count: 12.7K words
Genre: angst, fluff; exfriends to friends to future lovers
Warnings: mentions of slightly neglectful parents
This is for the Coming Home collab held by @nct-writers! Thank you to @pastelsicheng for reading some of this for me on such a short notice. That being said, a lot of this is only proof read by me. So please let me know if there are any major issues. I would love to know what you think!
“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you know Nakamoto Yuta?” your roommate, Emika, asks as soon as you walk into the room.
You laugh, closing the door behind you. “Hi. My day was good. Almost lost my wallet on the subway, so that was pretty cool. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Now tell me why I am just finding out you know the one and only Yuta?”
Summary: Three years ago, Yuta broke your heart. He decided he was done with you and left. So you picked up the pieces and moved on. You were going to show him you didn't need him. But what happens when he shows up one day seeking forgiveness?
Paring: soccer player!Yuta X gender neutral reader
Word count: 12.7K words
Genre: angst, fluff; exfriends to friends to future lovers
Warnings: mentions of slightly neglectful parents
This is for the Coming Home collab held by @nct-writers! Thank you to @pastelsicheng for reading some of this for me on such a short notice. That being said, a lot of this is only proof read by me. So please let me know if there are any major issues. I would love to know what you think!
“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you know Nakamoto Yuta?” your roommate, Emika, asks as soon as you walk into the room.
You laugh, closing the door behind you. “Hi. My day was good. Almost lost my wallet on the subway, so that was pretty cool. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Now tell me why I am just finding out you know the one and only Yuta?”
You sigh, taking a seat on the couch next to her. That’s what you love about her, her directness. You were never one for social norms, so when you met her, you were thankful to finally meet someone who didn’t engage in beating around the bush. “How did you even find out?”
She shrugs. “So I got home and was excited to show you this surprise I have for you, which you will get once you tell me what I want to know. And when I unlocked the door, I saw this piece of paper on the ground that had your name on the front. Fearing for your safety, I opened it, and it was your mom saying that Yuta wanted to talk to you—and don’t worry, I didn’t read the rest of the letter. But that paired with how weird you get when I mention him. I made a calculated guess.”
You physically recoil at his name. Yuta hasn’t talked to you in three years. What could he possibly want now?
“Wait, I’m sorry, what? Where is the note?”
She blinks at you before reaching forward and grabbing a piece of folded paper off the coffee table. You squint at your name written on the front in handwriting you don’t recognize. When you unfold it, you see a sticky note with your mom’s handwriting stuck on top of a letter with the handwriting from the front.
Hello dear, this is a letter that Yuta dropped by today. He’s back in town and wants to see you.
You pull the sticky note off, setting it on the table in front of you. You choose to ignore your friend’s eyes as she follows your every move.
Hey y/n,
I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but I have been doing a lot of thinking the past few years, and I want to talk to you about some things. I’m going to be staying in town for the next few weeks, and I was hoping we could meet up and talk? Or if you don’t want to see me, maybe we could just text? My number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. Please call.
You scoff, rolling your eyes and crumpling the paper. Honestly, screw him. He hasn’t been a part of your life for three years, and when he decides he wants to talk to you again, you’re supposed to bend to him? No. It may be childish, but he isn’t calling the shots in this relationship. If he wants to talk to you, he is going to have to do better than some letter dropped on your parents’ doorstep.
“Wait, why are you doing that?” your friend asks, looking at you like you just crumpled the most important thing in the universe.
“Because he says he wants to meet up. That, or he wants me to call him. Neither of which I have any interest in doing.”
“So it really is my idol Yuta?”
“Oh my god, stop,” you drop the paper on the ground, throwing your face into your hands in embarrassment. “Yes, okay, it is him. But don’t tell anyone. I don’t want anyone to know. It’s embarrassing.”
It isn’t often you tell people you know Yuta. If anything, you are embarrassed to say you did. Thankfully, not many people assume you know one of Japan’s most popular soccer players; hell, you only remember you know him when you see his advertisements or Emika puts a game on. Each time, Emika would comment how talented he was or how beautiful his smile is. Both are things you can’t deny. But every time you look at him, all you see is the sad high school boy who meant the world to you.
You first met a month after he moved into your apartment building. You both happened to be running late for the first day of high school, and as you were running down the stairs, you tripped over the last step. Luckily for you, you had something, well, someone, to cushion your fall. You were mortified. You, the tripper, were unharmed, while he, the tripped, had a bloody nose. But, like everything, he handled it with grace. He had laughed, nose pinched, head tipped backward, as you embarrassingly rambled apologies.
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, reaching out with his free hand for the paper towels you brought him. “Accidents happen.”
You took a seat next to him, looking awkwardly at the ground. You were certain you had met the exception to the rule “nobody’s perfect.” As you got to know him, you noticed he always knew what to say, and he never had anything bad to say about anyone. Your parents adored him, and your mom was always pushing for you to ask him out.
When he left, it killed you. You spent your high school and first two years of college thinking you two were meant to be together forever; then he left. You spent more time than you’d like to admit thinking about how you thought he was perfect. Then one day, you realized how he managed to hold onto that air of perfection. He kept everyone at arm’s length, never letting them get too close. You were the closest to him, and even you didn’t know the real him.
“Embarrassing?” your friend exclaims, jarring you from your thoughts. “He is one of the best soccer players on the national team, and he has the best smile. If I were you, I would be bragging to the whole world. Plus, he wants to see you! You have the opportunity of a lifetime presented to you. Why aren’t you taking it?”
You smile at your friend, trying your best not to feel annoyed. It isn’t her fault she is blinded by her admiration for him, which you don’t want to take away by telling her that when he got drafted, his first move was to tell you he no longer needed you.
“I have my reasons. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m done talking about this. What is your surprise?”
She nods her head, biting her lip. “Well, now that I know this little bit of information, I don’t think you’re going to like it very much. But for my birthday, my dad got me two tickets to the Japan vs Saudi Arabia round in the AFC, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? Please y/n, I know you don’t like soccer, but a) you’re my best friend, and b) you are the only one of my friends who is cool with my soccer addiction.”
You smile at her, taking a second to admire the way her eyes light up when talking about her gift. “Yeah, of course, I’ll go with you. It’s not like he’ll see me or anything.”
She squeals excitedly and hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much y/n! This is going to be the best birthday ever.”
You smile, hugging her back. It’ll be fine; what are the chances he’ll see us in the crowd?
—
“Alright, sweetie, we’ll see you when we get back,” your mom says as she and your dad pull their shoes on.
“Okay, see you then,” you respond from the couch, waving goodbye.
It was Thursday night, so your parents had their normal meeting to go to. From now until nine pm, you would have the house to yourself. It was also around the time Yuta’s dad would be getting home, which means the arguing would start soon.
When the apartment was as quiet as it is every Thursday, you could hear them arguing. You would try not to listen, which wasn’t hard considering it was mostly just loud muffled noises, but sometimes you would find yourself getting lost in the noise. You stared up at the ceiling, wishing them to stop for their son’s sake.
You hear three knocks at the door, and when you open it, it’s Yuta.
“Right on time,” you smile, opening the door for him to come in. “I was thinking miso soup tonight; I’m not feeling very fancy.”
“Sounds amazing,” he smiles, making his way to the kitchen counter to start on his homework.
You quickly turn on the study playlist you two had made, not wanting him to hear the muffled version of what he was trying to escape. You two fall into your normal silence as he does his homework and you prep the meal. You look up at him, watching as he looks between his textbook and the homework sheet in front of him.
He meets your eye, setting down his pencil. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he does something cuts him off.
You slowly open your eyes, grabbing your phone to check the time. It takes you a few seconds to remember your dream, and when you do, you feel disappointed in yourself.
You don’t know if that was a memory or just your brain creating a situation based on a thousand memories like that. You sigh, rubbing your face with your hands.
“It’s too early for this,” you groan.
Of course, the first time you think about him in months—the first time you see him in years—is the night you dream about him. You knew going to that soccer game would come with repercussions.
Throwing your blanket off, you pride yourself in coming to that decision. With the rose-colored glasses you used to see Yuta through no longer there, it is easy to treat him like you would anyone else.
However, as the day wore one, you found yourself thinking back to your high school years with him. Your best memories are cheering him on at soccer games and walking home together—stopping for french fries because neither of you had food waiting for you at home. While, for you, it is because you and your family had never done traditional sit-down dinners, and once you got old enough to cook, you all just ate whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. Sometimes you would eat the leftovers from your brother and sometimes you had to cook. You loved it.
Yuta, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky. His mom and dad were so consumed in their relationship that they forgot to cook if he wasn’t there. Since he had soccer every day after school, that was every weekday. It wasn’t that they didn’t love him—his dad is one of the most caring people you have ever met. You only had a few passing conversations with the man, but with how he spoke about Yuta, you knew he was proud of his son. His mom, though, you were never able to get a good feeling about the kind of person she was. When you did talk to her, she seemed distant and superficial. You don’t know if she was like that all the time; you hoped she wasn’t.
You never did find out what they argued about. The first time Yuta showed up at your door, it was under the ruse of not understanding a homework question. You realized pretty quickly that he knew more than you did. After that, he slowly started showing up every day.
You lightly slap your cheeks, pushing yourself up from your bed.
“Now is not the time, y/n,” you whisper to yourself. You’re not letting him distract you any more than he already has.
—
You were sitting in your dorm, ignoring the notes you had to take in favor of searching through the different resources your counselor had given you about the study abroad programs when you heard a series of fast knocks at your door.
“Coming,” you call, closing your laptop and moving to open the door.
“Y/n, I have with me the most important piece of information I will ever receive,” Yuta says in lieu of a greeting, not waiting for you to invite him in.
You tilt your head to the side, closing the door after him. He nervously paces, tapping a sealed envelope against his other hand.
“And what is that information?”
“If I am one of the finishing 23 members of the national soccer team.”
Your heart stops, and you stare at him with wide eyes. He stops pacing to meet your gaze, nodding his head as if to say: yeah, I know, right?
“You mean that envelope there,” you point to the one in his hands, “tells us if you made it?”
He nods his head vigorously. “I debated on ignoring it for at least a day, but considering the match is in two weeks, I can’t really wait that long.”
“Then what are you doing!”
“I don’t want to open it,” he whines, throwing his hands dramatically. “What if they tell me no, and then I have to go about my daily life knowing I was so close?”
You smile. “Well, then it says that. But to even be considered is an incredible honor. So yeah, you won’t be on the national team, but you will be thousands of years ahead of someone like me. So don’t think too bad about yourself, okay?”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
You clap your hands excitedly before clasping them in front of your mouth, watching him open the envelope. You feel your heart pound in your chest, wishing more than anything that his letter will include the word “congratulations”.
His eyes quickly scan the letter before he suddenly drops it, a wide smile spread across his face. “I made it. Guess who is going to be playing for the Japanese 2018 national soccer team!”
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” you cheer, jumping in place.
“I did it,” he laughs, running a hand through his hair, disbelief spread across his face. “I actually did it.”
“You did it,” you mirror, pulling him into a hug.
“I did it.” He holds you tight.
At that moment, you feel so loved.
—
“Y/n?”
You shake your head, blinking a few times before focusing on your coworker, Yoshi, standing in front of your desk. “Yeah?”
“We're going out for drinks after work. Would you like to come with us?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you rub the back of your neck, spinning your head left and right to stretch your neck. “I haven’t been sleeping that well lately, and I’m kind of tired.”
It wasn’t that you haven’t been sleeping well—it’s more that your dreams have been off-putting. Before your first Yuta dream, you never had dreams. In the three days since then, your dreams have been filled with memories with Yuta. They leave you feeling uncomfortable and exhausted—especially the one last night.
That had been the last good memory with Yuta. After that conversation, you didn’t see him a lot. You thought nothing of it, as you had been busy with your school work and he was training. The day before he went off with his team was the last time you saw him.
“Are you ready for your debut?” you asked, smiling as you took a seat at the picnic table across from him.
“Yeah.”
You tilted your head, the smile frozen on your face. His face showed no emotions of any kind. You reach out to grab his folded hands, quickly retracting as he removes his hands from the table. “Are you alright?”
He nods his head. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, okay. Go ahead.”
“I don’t need you anymore.”
You blinked in surprise, the statement physically shocking you. “I- what?”
He sighs, seemingly annoyed that he has to explain any further. “I’m moving on to bigger and better things. I don’t need you anymore.”
“How could you say that to me?” you ask, willing the hurt to go away so you could think.
“Because it is the truth. You’ll only slow me down.”
You scoff, looking at his still blank face. You wanted to say something, to tell him: how dare you. Instead, all you do is look at him with watery eyes. How could he feel nothing while saying this to you?
He looks at you a second longer before pushing himself up. He gives you one last cold look before walking away. The next time you see him would be through the screen.
“Oh, come on,” Yoshi whines, dragging you from your thoughts. “You’re always the life of the party.”
You laugh, choosing to think about the memory another day. “We both know that title should belong to Ko. You don’t need me tonight; I would just sit in the back. Trust me, Yosh, I wouldn’t be any fun.”
His eyes soften. “Are you okay?”
You smile at him. “Like I said, I just haven’t been sleeping well. Next time, I promise.”
He nods his head. “Well, just know I’m here if you want to talk.” He gives you one last smile before turning and returning to his desk. You watch as he goes, smile still lingering. You’re lucky to have coworkers like Yoshi who care. He—along with Ko, Miki, and Takahito—is your work family. You, Miki, Takahito, and Yoshi all started at the same time, gravitating towards each other throughout the week. The week after that, Ko somehow inserted himself into your lives. You don’t remember how it happened, but there was just a point where he was always with you guys at lunch breaks.
You rest your head on your hand, staring in the direction of Yoshi’s desk. Maybe it’s because you’ve been thinking about Yuta for the past few days, but you’re feeling sentimental. You met them a year after returning from abroad and two years after Yuta left. They made you feel loved again.
---
“Okay y/n, we’re leaving. Last chance to join us,” Ko says, leaning on your desk.
You smile up at your friends. “Sorry, but I’m tired. Next time, I promise.”
Miki pouts, shifting her bag on her shoulder. “It won’t be the same without you. Know that I’ll be missing you and your calming presence.”
“Hey,” Yoshi says, lightly elbowing her. “I am plenty calm.”
“So am I,” Takahito chimes in.
Miki rolls her eyes, giving you a knowing look. “I guess I was wrong then.” She puts her hand to her mouth, blocking the guys from seeing as she mouths: no, I’m not.
You smile at her, taking a deep breath as you look between your friends. “I’m so thankful to have you guys in my life, thank you.”
"Aw y/n, why are you being so sentimental all of a sudden. We're happy to be in the same social circle as someone like you," Takahito smiles.
Your other friends voice their agreement, and with one last curious look from Yoshi, they make their way to elevators. You smile as you watch them leave, feeling grateful once again to have them in your life.
You wait for a few minutes before packing up and leaving. You’ve gotten good at blocking out the rest of the world as you walk home. So when you see someone across the street from your office, hood pulled over his face and a mask covering the bottom half, you don’t care.
That is, however, until you hear the stranger call your name. You pause for a second before pushing forward at a slightly faster pace, not wanting to deal with this now. As soon as you turn the corner, you start running. Please, please, please.
“Y/n! Wait!”
You flinch as he places a hand on your shoulder, spinning around to face him. He quickly retracts his hand to hold them up in surrender. Stupid! Of course, you couldn’t outrun a soccer player.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you heard me.”
You scoff, crossing your arms across your chest. “Oh, I heard you.”
Yuta laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, of course, you did.”
“How did you find me?”
“I looked you up online. I checked every y/n l/n until I found this place.” He gestures vaguely to the building behind you.
“When did you have the time to do that? Creep.” You hope your tone comes across as annoyed rather than convey the anxiety slowly building in your stomach.
You decide its mission accomplished as he looks slightly taken aback by your question.
“A little here, a little there. Can we go somewhere to talk? I have a few things I need to say.”
You shake your head. “No, I don’t think I want to. Good luck with the rest of your matches.” With that, you turn around and continue in the direction of your home.
“Wait, y/n, please,” he starts, jogging so he’s standing in front of you. Once he sees you’re not going to stop, he resorts to walking backward. “Did you get the note I sent?”
“Yep. I threw it out. Also, while we’re on the topic, you look ridiculous. You’re not as big of a hotshot as you’d like to think you are.”
He laughs, averting his eyes but does nothing to remove the mask. Instead, he swings around to walk next to you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“Nope.”
Normally, you would feel bad using this tone of voice. But frankly, you don’t have the energy to be nice to him. As you told Yoshi, you are tired. You haven’t been able to sleep—all because of the man walking next to you, and seeing him is making you angry along with tired.
“Then I’ll talk to you until you get to where you’re going,” he says, nodding his head as he decided.
“No,” you state firmly, stopping in place. He stops a few steps in front of you, turning to face you. “I don’t care what you have to say, Yuta. Because if you were a rookie when you told me you didn’t need me, I would hate to know what you think now with your face plastered on signs.”
“Look-”
“I don’t want to look. I want you to leave me alone. And if there is one thing you should’ve learned about me over the home cooked meals I made for you, I'm good at staying angry at people who deserve it.” You poke your finger into his chest, hoping to drive home the point he messed up your relationship. This is on him, not you.
You jab him one more time in the chest before continuing down the street. Part of you feels extremely nervous. Over the years, you have spent hours thinking of how you would speak your mind to him, and imagined countless scenarios about your first meeting. This went something along the lines of your favorite scenario, the one where he has nothing important to say.
“I’m trying to apologize!” he exclaims, still not moving from his spot.
You simply wave a hand goodbye, turning another corner. Thankfully, that is the last you see of Nakomoto Yuta for the night.
—
The next time you see him is three days later. You know he is busy with soccer matches; you hear Emika scream from the living room during their games. He is waiting for you in the same place with the same ridiculous outfit on. As soon as you see him, you turn around to try to retreat into your office.
“I saw you already,” he calls, and you inwardly sigh.
“I forgot something in my office,” you inform him, not turning back around to see if he heard you. You can only hope he would take the door closing as a “go away.”
“Let me come with you then.”
Guess not, then.
“No, sorry. Office staff only,” you turn around to flash him a synthetic smile.
“Good thing I know someone who can sneak me in,” he replies jokingly.
You stare at him in disbelief. With one sentence, he has transported you to your early college years. Back when you two were perfect. When you would give anything for him to achieve his goals and he would repay you simply with his company. Something in his eyes changes, and you know he feels it too.
It leaves an awkward silence between you two. How dare he walk in here and pretend everything is okay. Who does he think he is walking into your office and making jokes about your relationship?
Just as you’re about to let him know what you think, how angry that one comment has made you, the elevator dings and out walks Ko.
“Y/n? I thought you left already.”
You turn around to face him, forcing a smile on your face. “Yeah, I was interrupted.”
Ko’s eyes shift to look at Yuta before looking back at you. He walks toward you, grabbing you lightly by the elbow and leaning in to whisper, “Are you okay?”
You laugh loudly, shocking Ko. “Yeah, I’m fine. This is someone I used to know. He hurt me pretty badly, so the look on my face isn’t fear,” you take a half step to the side to look Yuta in the eyes, “it’s anger.”
After you finish speaking, you do feel a pang of guilt. Not for Yuta, though, for Ko. Who is now left to stand awkwardly as you and Yuta have a staring contest. Once you feel Yuta has received the message, you turn back around to face your coworker.
“I’m sorry, this is weird. Let’s go?”
He simply nods his head, mindlessly following you as you walk past Yuta. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ko actively avoid looking at Yuta, and you send him a silent apology.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Yuta calls as you push open the door.
“No, thank you.”
—
“Knock knock,” Ko greets, knocking on your desk.
You look up at him, slouching in your chair. “Is it time to go?”
He nods his head, and you throw your head back in defeat. Ko, thankfully, had been extremely understanding about being thrown into your interaction with Yuta. Being the kind-hearted man he is, he offered to buy you dinner. He went a step further, and over the next three days, he walked out with you as a form of moral support.
“I don’t want to go,” you announce, dramatically flinging yourself over your desk. “I know he’s down there today. I can feel it. I’m worried he’s going to wear me down. I’m not ready to have an honest conversation with him.”
He laughs. “You’ve said that every day for the past three days, and it's only been true one of those days. Now come on, I want to go home.”
You lift your head to glare at him. “Do you hate me?”
“Nope, I just think you’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” you mock as you push yourself up and grab your coat. “Come one, let’s just get this over with.”
You walk to the elevator in silence, and as it dings open, you take a deep breath to try and calm your nerves. This is one more thing to dislike about Yuta. He has made leaving your work terrifying.
“But if I can say,” Ko starts, as the doors close shut. “I think you should talk to him. Because if you don’t, he’s just going to keep showing up. Face your fears, right?”
“No, not right. I’m a coward. Coward.”
He laughs. “Okay, never said you needed to. Just my advice.”
“Well, your advice sucks.”
When the elevator doors open, Ko grabs your arm to drag you out of the elevator. You cross your fingers on your left hand, hoping that for once in your life, someone is looking out for you. Once you make it around the corner with no signs of Yuta, you throw your hands up in celebration.
"I did it!"
"You did nothing. You just got lucky."
—
As soon as you open your eyes, you know today is going to be hard. You had yet another Yuta dream last night, and despite it not being worse than the previous dreams, this one seemed to bug you more than normal. You spent thirty minutes in bed mindlessly scrolling through your phone, pushing any thoughts of the soccer player from your mind.
The only thing that breaks your spell is Emika shouting a goodbye. Once you hear the door close, you sigh before pushing yourself to sit up. You rub your face with your hands, deciding a change of scenery is what you need to improve your mood.
You set out to the kitchen, intending to cook something to try and get yourself motivated. After staring into your fridge and seeing the different ingredients, you decide to change your plans and settle for cereal.
After two hours of mindless tv watching, and your brain still hasn’t recovered, you try again to be productive. You opt to do the dishes that had accumulated since yesterday. That should be an easy enough task.
Five dishes in, and the realization that today isn't your day comes in the form of knocking a cup onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, you throw the sponge into the sink before placing your hands on the sides of the sink and leaning over it. You feel hot tears flow from your eyes, and you squeeze them shut to try and stop more tears from escaping.
Your legs give out from under you, and you find yourself kneeling next to the broken cup. This is all Yuta’s fault. First, he breaks your heart by basically comparing you to dirt, and now he is making your life hell by showing up randomly at your work.
You turn to lean against the cupboard, head buried in your knees. Every time you saw him and exchanged harsh words, it reminded you what he thought of you. That to him, you are nothing.
You hear a knock at the door, and you throw your head back, accidentally hitting the cupboard behind you. You laugh in defeat, grabbing your head and willing the person behind the door to leave.
Another series of knocks rips the fantasy from you, and you shove yourself up. When you open it, you see none other than Yuta standing before you. When he sees your face, messy with tears, his eyes widen.
“Y/n-”
“Okay, okay, you win,” you cry, not trying to stop the tears running down your face. “Let’s have a conversation.”
You turn on your heel and walk back into your apartment, only turning around once you hear the door close behind you. You watch as Yuta takes off his mask, eyes roaming around the apartment.
“Say what you want to say.”
“Are you okay?” He asks slowly, untying his shoes and stepping further into your apartment.
You laugh, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “Am I okay? Gosh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I have someone from my past who told me I was nothing—”
“No, I didn’t—”
“—following me around.”
Feeling too anxious to stand still and talk to him, you start pacing in place, weaving your hands around as you talk. “I mean, did you even stop to consider how that might make me feel? And then there are the dreams. Ever since my mom gave me that stupid letter you wrote, I have been having dreams about you. They’re not bad dreams. No, they’re all our good times together. Which then reminds me that the reason seeing you hurts is because I used to care for you. Your pain was mine, and this is how you repay me?”
After your speech, the apartment is deafly silent. You stop pacing, starring blankly at him. Yes, you don’t look as composed as you imagined you would, but you hope your words still hurt. Right now, you want him to hurt as you do.
“Say something!” you yell after seconds pass, and he just stares at you, eyes slightly glossed over.
“I don’t know!” he exclaims before taking a deep breath and repeating in a softer voice. “I don’t know. I just know I wanted to come to talk to you, to apologize. But now this whole thing has really gotten away from me, and I don’t know anymore.”
“So you come here, somehow track down my home, and don’t even have anything to say? God, Yuta, I am just- just so tired.” You close your eyes, feeling the sting in your eyes from crying.
“You’re right,” he sighs, ruffling his hair. “And I’m sorry. I came here with set points I wanted to tell you, but they all seem so stupid now.”
“Well, if you’re going to show up at my house, I suggest you do better than that.”
He sighs, looking over to your couch. “Want to sit?”
You shake your head. “Sitting makes me anxious, and right now, that’s not really something I want to feel.”
He nods his head, clasping and unclasping his hands. “Okay then, I guess I’ll just talk. Obviously, I need to start with that I am so sorry for what I said and how I left things.”
You scoff, refraining yourself from replying with some kind of sarcastic remark. If he notices your destain for the comment, he ignores it.
“There is no good excuse, but the best I can give you is that I was scared. I can’t explain it, but I was so scared of letting you in. Well, more than I already had,” he laughs awkwardly. “So I lashed out. I thought if you, I don’t know, if you hated me or something, then I wouldn’t be scared anymore.”
“What were you scared of?”
“I-” he shuffles awkwardly. “I’m going to say something, okay? And this might be inappropriate, and I didn’t intend to tell you this today, so just know that, okay?”
You tilt your head, a little nervous about what he has to say. Hesitantly, you nod your head.
He sighs, rocking back on his heels a few times. “One day, sometime before I got my acceptance letter, I woke up and realized I maybe didn’t think of you as just a friend.”
Your eyes widen. “You’re joking ri—”
“Please let me finish,” he interrupts, holding his hand out. “This is hard and embarrassing enough to say, so I need to say it all at once before I chicken out. Anyway, I woke up and realized you meant more to me than I ever intended. And I got scared. I was so scared, y/n you don’t even know. All I could think about was my parents and how unhappy their marriage was. I couldn’t go through that.”
You take a step back in surprise, bringing your hand to lightly chew on your nail. You’re torn. Yes, you are still mad at him. His words still ring in your mind, and you don’t think you’ll ever forget them. But hearing him, hearing the sadness in his voice, breaks your heart.
“And I know that isn’t an acceptable reason for me saying the things I said to you. What I said...” He takes a deep breath. “What I said was horrible, and I want you to know I didn’t mean any of it. I took all the doubts I had about myself and transformed them into something ugly. Just know that I am so so sorry, y/n, I truly am.”
You nod your head. “So when you told me you were moving on to bigger things and that you didn’t need me, what kind of doubt was that? Because I can’t think of one.”
“I, uh, I’ll be honest. I don’t remember why I said that specific thing. I just know I was worried you would leave me or end up hating me. Which, I guess, mission accomplished.” He groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Let me revise that. I was worried you would spend time with me and come to naturally hate me. So I decided if I made you hate me, I would save myself the hurt.”
You nod your head, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I am having a really bad day. I don’t know what’s wrong, and my head really hurts from crying and hitting it earlier. So you, I don’t know Yuta.”
He nods his head, a sad smile gracing his face. “I understand. Well, you have my number, and if not, I can give it to you again. Or not if you never want to talk to me again. And um, I’ll stop showing up at your work. You’re right. I never stopped to consider how me showing up might make you feel. I’m going to be in Japan for a long time, so take as long as you need to reach out.”
He gives a finalizing nod before turning his back and walking towards the door, bending down to tie on his shoes.
“I- I thought you said you were only here for a few weeks,” you ask weakly, worried if you speak too loud, you’d disrupt the mood.
He opens the door, smiling. “I lied.”
—-
It took you two days to tell Emika what happened between you and Yuta on your day off. Once she had gotten over the fact her idol was in her apartment, she asked you the hard-hitting questions like “how do you feel?” and “what now?”
You didn’t need her to help you figure out how you felt. You did that a long time ago; hurt and angry.
You did, however, need her help deciding what to do now. You have a vivid memory of one night in South Africa a week after you arrived. You felt so alone—and it had nothing to do with being “alone” in a new country. Your roommate was extremely warm and welcoming, and you knew you had someone on your side.
It was when you thought about Japan and your home university that the feelings of loneliness became overwhelming. You spent your nights replaying your last conversation with him, wondering what caused him to lash out. You tried to talk to him; you really did. He blocked you, and before you knew it, he was off to represent the nation.
Then one night, at one a.m., you decided you were never going to forgive him. He made his move, and now you’ll make yours. For the last time in your life, you were going to follow his lead. If he never wants to talk to you again, fine, have it his way. The least you can do is grant him his last wish as a friend.
After that decision, it became easier to sleep. Sure, sometimes you had relapses where you blamed yourself or thought you hated him. After about the fourth time doubting yourself, you and your roommate came to your second conclusion: Yuta is a coward.
He is a coward who had something to say but couldn’t, so he decided to lash out. He was scared of something, so he was mean. Mean is easier than scared; it's a false sense of control.
Now though, these two core beliefs that you’ve held for three years are being questioned. Now, you have the re-think your decisions because maybe, just maybe, you might be able to start over.
“I don’t think you understand,” you whine, throwing your head into your hands dramatically.
Emika laughs. “You’re right. I don’t. I can’t say anyone has ever insulted me then come back to apologize. Explain to me why you made these ‘decisions,’ as you put it.”
“Because if it wasn’t him, then it was me, and obviously, it wasn’t me. And it isn’t like I was wrong! It was him.”
“Yeah, okay, but stay on topic. Why did you make those decisions?”
You sigh, leaning back on the couch. “Because I was struggling to make sense of what happened. And those were my lifelines, you know? The first thing I did was decide I wasn’t going to forgive him. That’s how I didn’t let his words hurt me. You know I tried to talk to him after he lashed out, and he wouldn’t see me. He blocked my phone, and I assume changed his number ”
She sighs. “Yeah, okay. But look, he came here and apologized. That has to count for something, right?”
“I was just angry for so long. I,” you shrug, shaking your head. “I don’t know what to do if I’m not angry. If I forgive him, I don’t think I’ll ever get his words out of my head. I mean, he basically said I wasn’t popular enough to be associated with. Do you know how much that hurt to hear from someone who had almost the same life as me until a stupid piece of paper said otherwise? If I didn’t make up something, if I didn’t tell myself it was him, do you know what a blow that would be to my self-confidence? And like I said, if I forgive him, wouldn’t part of me always worry he’d turn his back on me again?”
She hums, joining you in leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “You might have to talk to him about that. Or just figure it out yourself. But ask yourself this: do you miss him? Because if you don’t, then it isn’t worth the risk.”
Do I miss him?
“I mean, sure, there was a time in South Africa where I felt so alone that I did miss him. I didn’t have a lot of friends back home, and a lot of the friends I did have were also his friends. I felt too ashamed to see them again, so I used studying abroad as my way of starting over. After I got back, I looked for new friends and met you. But by then, I already had my decision, and I didn’t need him.”
"I think if there is a part of you that missed him at any point in time, then it would be worth hearing him out. It might give you some closure."
"Closure," you muse.
You had never thought about getting closure before. You only thought about telling him your side of the story and leaving it at that. Maybe closure would be a better option.
—--
“Thank you for reaching out to me. I can’t explain to you how much this chance means to me,” Yuta greets as soon as you sit across from him after ordering.
You smile softly. “So you are going to wear that stupid disguise the whole time, or are you worried that as soon as you take off your mask, you’ll be mobbed by crazed fans?”
He pauses, and for a second, you worry you’ve overstepped some invisible boundary. You don’t know why, but something about seeing him dress like that—like he’s the nation’s top celebrity—rubs you the wrong way. At least he doesn’t have his hood pulled up like the first day he came to my work.
Slowly, he takes off his mask, looking left and right. You roll your eyes at the action, thinking it to be ridiculous.
“See, not so bad, now is it?”
He chuckles, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I am a little paranoid. It’s not like I’m an idol or anything. I’m just a soccer player. I don’t know when that stupid habit kicked in. I just know one day I felt nervous to leave the house without a mask on.”
You hum. “So now that my mind isn’t foggy from crying let’s have a conversation. I have some things I need to tell you, so let me do that, and then we can go from there, yeah?”
He eagerly nods his head, and you try not to let the hopeful look in his eyes spread to you.
“I thought about what you said, how you said you acted out of a place of fear, and I want to tell you that I already knew that. When you left, I made two decisions: one of which was that you are a coward. So that wasn’t new to me. I just never knew why. I mean, to me, you were always this perfect man. You always knew what to say, knew how to make me feel better. I mean, everyone loved you.” You pause, shaking your head. You need to stay on track. “Anyway, um, I just don’t know how to feel now that I know why you acted the way you did. I mean, yeah, if I were in your place, I don’t think I would have acted the way you did, but I can understand it. So where does that leave me now?”
A silence settles between you two, only breaking when the waitress sets the drinks down.
“You’re wrong,” he sighs, turning the cup in its place; inspecting it. “I don’t always know what to say. I know what I want to say, but it probably isn’t what I should say.”
“And what do you want to say?”
“I want to say all you’re left with is forgiveness. That you put aside any doubts you have about me, and we start over. But that’s selfish. You have every right to still be cautious? Is that the right word? Never mind, you still have a right to be anxious or whatever about trusting me. I would too. And I know this is hard, but believe me, I regret it. I regretted it as soon as the world cup was done, and I actually had the time to think. But I convinced myself it was for the best. That I was helping you in the long run.”
You nod your head, not knowing what to do with the new information. “Okay, I’m going to say something. And I don’t know what I hope to accomplish by saying this—frankly, I wouldn’t normally say something like this. But I already have a low opinion of you, so it’s not like it can get any worse right?”
He snorts, nodding his head. He doesn’t look hurt by your words, which does offer you some relief.
“Okay. I want to forgive you. There is some part of me that misses you and wants to see the boy I was proud to call my friend. Because now, I’m embarrassed to say I know you. I mean, I only told my best friend about you when you left that dumb note. But if I let you back into my life, what then? Yuta, I can’t take you backstabbing me again. And now that you’re an established soccer player, what is stopping you from changing your mind again? You thought you were too good for me before your success. I can’t imagine what you think of me now that I’m just a normal office worker. My question to you, what is stopping you from turning on me again?”
“As cliche as it sounds, I’ve changed. I never thought I was too good for you, not even when I said I was.” He pauses, taking a deep breath and averting his eyes. “I hate the me who said that to you. I don’t like to think of that time. It was supposed to be the best time of my life, and I hate it because you weren’t there. My best friend, the one who helped me when my parents couldn’t seem to put me first, wasn’t there because of me. You were meant to be there whenever we won because, without you, I know I wouldn’t have made it this far. I never said this to you y/n, and I should have said it a long time ago, but thank you. You kept me going in high school, kept me grounded. Soccer was always my dream not because I loved it like other players. Don’t get me wrong, I love the spot, and I love what I do. But I’m here,” he makes a vague gesture with his hands, “because I needed a way out. Soccer was my out. But then you gave me that bloody nose, and suddenly I didn’t need that out as much as I used to. I was able to love the sport again because you gave me something else to live for. I was miserable, and then there was you.”
He takes a deep breath, stopping to take a drink. You take this moment to study his face, his speech distracting you from actually looking at him. When you look at him, you’re reminded of the boy you met in high school. Things had changed when you got to college—he had perfected the art of being perfect. But right now, he is the same sad boy you met that morning while running late for school.
“And when I got that letter, I thought everything was going to change. Our lives were changed forever. I mean, I had my out. I didn’t need my mom and dad, and I could be my own person. I had received my chance to start over.” he smiles sadly, letting a few seconds of silence pass. “All that was left was you. You were the last reminder of who I used to be. The last reminder of the pathetic little boy who was stuck. But you were also the person I came to care the most about. I mean, I loved you. Part of me always will.”
The words suck the air out of you. When he came to your apartment, he told you he liked you. Once you had been able to process that, you had spent five minutes curled in a ball on the couch in shock. It had seemed impossible.
Now he was saying he loved you?
“You’re joking, right? Because I swear to god Yuta if this is just some sick joke-”
“It’s not,” he responds sternly. “You matter more to me than anyone I have ever met, and it’s about time I told you. But back on track. I looked at you, and I was struck with fear that all you would ever see me as was the sad boy who had nothing. And as much as I cared for you, that fear was too overwhelming. So I lashed out and told you whatever I needed to get you to leave. I was being selfish and, like you said, a coward. Long story short, you don’t have to worry about me backstabbing you because I’ve realized how much I missed you.”
You lock your eyes onto your cup. He spoke so surely about loving you it made you uneasy. In all your time knowing him, he had never spoken like this to you. The only thing that came close was when he first told you about becoming a soccer player. He had said so with such confidence like it was an obvious fact.
This is a different kind of confidence. It isn’t confidence that comes from being right, but confidence in himself. He sounded so sure of himself.
“Do you expect me to believe you?” you whisper.
His sad smile graces his face once again. “No.”
You clear your throat, leaning on the table. “I need some time, okay? I’ve thought about this conversion many times. And every time, I never expected you to still be perfect. I thought maybe you’d be angry, repeat the same things you said last time, or some mix. But you’ve proved me wrong, and I need time to adjust.”
He nods his head, the hopeful look returning to his eyes.
----
That night, you went against your better judgment and decided to eat the last of Emika’s ice cream. She would kill you tomorrow. Or whenever she found out, but you figured it is worth it. To put it simply, you are stressed.
Ever since you got home from meeting Yuta five hours ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about what he had told you. When you decided to never forgive him, it had been because you thought his cowardness steamed from a place of selfishness. Now though, he is telling you his cowardness stemmed from a place of genuine fear.
You couldn’t—and you don’t—fault him for that. You’re lucky to have two parents who showered you and your brother with love. You had seen other parents, ones that didn’t put their children first, through tv and movie portrayals, but you never thought they existed around you.
Until you met Yuta, you never thought about what it would be like to belong to parents like that. One night, sometime during your sophomore year, tried to imagine what it would be like to have one or both of your parents not devote themselves to you.
As you mindlessly spoon ice cream into your mouth, you try to think back to that feeling. You’ve never had the best imagination, but even with what you imagined for yourself that night, it had been lonely. It left you feeling hollow, and the first thing you did when you woke up was to hug your mom and dad. You couldn’t imagine growing up like that, something hollow feeling always lurking around the corner.
Sighing, you drop your spoon into the now empty container, reaching forward to grab your phone off the coffee table. You open your phone icon, scrolling until you find your brother’s contact. You check the time before pressing the call button, placing it on speaker as you move to lay across the couch.
“Hello?”
“Hey Hiromu, you’re off work, yeah?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I’m having a bit of a dilemma and was hoping you could give me some advice?”
You hear him let out a soft oof, and you imagine he just fell onto his couch. “I’m all ears.”
“Remember Yuta?”
He snorts. “The jerk who left you once he made it to the big leagues? Yeah, what about him?”
You smile at your brother’s words, finding some comfort in them. “He left a note for me at mom and dad’s, and when I didn’t answer, he started showing up at my office. Then he even managed to find my apartment.”
“What does he want?”
“He said he wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize! Did you tell him he’s about, what, three years too late?”
You chuckle. “No, but, eventually, I did hear him out. He said he was scared of ending up like his parents.”
“Why was that even something he was worried about?”
You groan, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. “Don’t make me say it. Tell me you’re smarter than that, Hiro.”
“I don’t know, man. I’m pretty dumb.”
“Fine, fine, but don’t make fun of me, okay? He said he liked me back then and was scared of turning into his parents, so he tried to push me away.”
“Why would I make fun of you for that?”
“I don’t know,” you cry. “Because you’re a bully? Now stop distracting me! But you remember how his parents were?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, and the line goes silent for a second before he clears his throat. “Yeah, I remember. Practically all your freshman year he ate dinner at our house because his parents were either arguing or ignoring each other to make him dinner. Mom told me that lasted the three years after I left. I can’t imagine what it was like to live like that. But that doesn’t excuse what he said to you, y/n. What he said was horrible.”
“And I know,” you agree, nodding your head in agreement. You sigh, picking up your phone to absent-mindedly check how long the call had been going for. “But doesn’t that count for something? And you should have heard him, Hiro. He sounded so sincere. Even when we were younger, I had never heard him talk like that. I think he really has changed. And the more I think about it, the more I don’t know how set I was on my whole ‘never forgiving’ him thing. I think- I think I was just really hurt that my best friend wanted to leave me.”
Again, the line falls silent. For a second, you’re worried you’ve said something to make him disappointed. When you told your brother what had happened, he had been just as upset as you. You looked out for each other, and him disliking Yuta was him looking out for you.
“As your brother, I don’t know how much unbiased advice I can give you. Frankly, I think you should never talk to him again because he doesn’t deserve you. But if this were one of my friends, I would say listen to what you want without being foolish. If you want to forgive him, but he hasn’t done anything to earn that forgiveness, then don’t do it. But if he has done enough to be forgiven, then you should. Do you think he has done enough to earn your forgiveness?”
You staring up at the ceiling. Has he done enough? “I don’t know. I mean, he sounded so sincere when he was talking to me. He was never pushy he even said he doesn’t expect me to forgive him. That means he means it, right? Plus, it’s not like he gains anything by apologizing to me. I would’ve been perfectly fine pretending I never knew him.”
He chuckles. “You know you’re doing the thing where you asked for my advice, but you secretly have an answer you want me to say.“
“I’m not doing that! There are plenty of reasons why I should never talk to him again.”
“Then how did you know I was talking about forgiving him?”
“Do you think you just did something cool don’t you?” You huff.
“But I am right, aren’t I?”
“No, no, you’re not. Because yes, I like the idea of forgiving him, but I feel like I shouldn’t. Feel like I’m making a fool of myself.”
He sighs. “As much as I dislike the guy, forgiving him won’t be making a fool of yourself. If anything, it would show that you’re better than him. More mature. But of course, you shouldn’t force yourself to forgive him. “
“You’re so unhelpful.”
“See! You wanted me to say you should forgive him!”
You let him continue bragging as his words sink in. Was that really why you called him? You had asked Emika earlier, and she more or less came to the same conclusion as your brother. That if he had done enough to apologize and you felt okay about it, you should forgive him.
“Ro,” you whine, rubbing your face with your hands. This is taking more effort out of you than you wanted to. “Yes, I want you to say I should forgive him, but I don’t know how that answer makes me feel. Because yeah, you can say it makes me more mature, but that doesn’t stop the fact that I feel like I’m betraying myself. I feel like if I forgive him, then I’m just telling him it’s okay for him to speak to me like that. But at the same time, I miss my friend. I miss the guy I spent countless nights with just talking. He made me feel, I don’t know, important.”
“I’ve already told you everything you need to know. If you think he has done enough, then you should apologize. You can even tell him that if he does anything to break that trust then you’re done. Do whatever makes you comfortable y/n. I trust your judgment. You’re smart.”
You smile softly. “Why do I feel like you’re making fun of me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re stupid?”
“Why did I even call you? I can think of a dozen other people who would talk nicer to me than you are right now.”
He laughs, and you smile at the sound. It’s been a long time since you’ve heard his laugh.
“Oh, I miss you, kid. Promise you’ll call again soon?”
You nod your head. “Only if you promise to visit sometime. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”
“You got yourself a deal. Good night y/n, everything will work out, I promise.”
“Night, Hiromu.”
You smile to yourself, holding your phone to look at your brother’s contact. You truly have the best family anyone could ask for.
Your moment is cut short when you hear the front door open. You look towards the empty ice cream container, and as you hear Emika’s footsteps get closer, you feel your heart stop.
“What the hell is that?”
—
The first time you call, Yuta doesn’t answer. You leave a voice mail, mentally banging your head at how awkward you sound. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling this was all a big trick. To get you to forgive him and then never talk to you again. Turn you into a laughing stock.
You spent the next hour bouncing between your puzzle and checking your phone. You would never admit it, but when the phone did finally ring, you practically jump to answer it.
“Hello?” You ask, despite knowing exactly who it was.
“Hey y/n, it’s Yuta. Sorry about that, there was a team meeting. You said you had something you wanted to say?”
You nervously bite your lip, suddenly second-guessing your choice. “Um yeah. Yeah, I do. Did you mean what you said to me in the coffee shop?”
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “All of it. And if you’re here to tell me that you don’t want to forgive me, then I respect your decision. Just know I wish you the best.”
“And- and if I say I want to forgive you, where do we go from there?”
After your question, your breath catches in your throat. Stupid! There are a thousand better wats you could have worded that and you chose-
“Well, and of course, we would go as fast or as slow as you want, but I’m thinking we meet up when we’re both in Japan? Which I will be for a long time, so there’s that. And maybe do what we used to do? Oh, but I guess that might be hard since we don’t live so close anymore. I don’t know, but I’ll do anything to make this work. I promise you won’t regret this y/n. I promise we can be happy.”
Something about the way he spoke made you feel fuzzy. Fuzzy feeling or not, you promised yourself you would lay down some ground rules. “Okay, okay, just wait. Because a lot has changed in these three years, so just hear me out.”
You wait for him to give you some sign of hearing you, in his case a small hum, before continuing.
“I still feel like I’m making a mistake by doing this. I mean, maybe this is just a reaction to the stress I’ve been under the past two weeks, and tomorrow I’ll wake up and kick myself for this. But I’m going to pretend that won’t happen and assume this won't backfire. Anyway, the point of saying that was so you know I'm still iffy about this and one wrong move on your part, and we're done for good. You got that?"
"Yeah, totally. Thank you again for giving me a second chance. This means more to me than you will ever know."
You hum, not sure how to respond. "So, is there something specific you think we should do? I mean, there is a lot to catch up on."
"Oh, I know! I have two tickets to the final match in like two weeks. Would you and a friend like to come? After you can come over to my place, and we can catch up."
"You guys made it to the finals?" You feel bad about the amount of shock in your voice, but you can't help it. With your newly fixed bond, it feels surreal to say you know a world cup finalist.
"Yes!" he laughs. "Do you really not pay attention to these kinds of things?"
"No, my roommate normally tells me about it, though, so I'm not sure why this is news to me. Maybe she forgot? Anyways, congratulations! You must be excited."
"Oh, I am. And knowing you're going to be there is even better. I-"
A voice in the background cuts him off, and you take the opportunity to get up and check your fridge. You don't make it far before Yuta is talking to you again.
"Hey, I have to go, but I'll text you? Let me know if I'm moving too fast or something. I'm just really excited to have you back."
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your body. "Okay, have a nice day."
"You too."
---
“Have I mentioned how much I love your new friend?” Emika asks, shaking your arm excitedly before hugging it and sighing dreamily.
You laugh, prying her off your arm. “Yes, yes, you have. And you only like him because you got to see the match for free.”
“No, not just that. Have you seen him? He brightens the place up! You could do with some brightness.”
"Hey! I have plenty of bright in my life. Have you met Ko?"
"Yes, yes, I have met him. But you know what I mean."
You smile at her, shaking your head. "I'll see you when I get home?"
She nods her head. "Have fun! Tell him congratulations from me. Don't feel bad leaving if you get uncomfortable."
You nod your head, waving goodbye as you turn down a different street than your roommate. Looking down at your phone, you see that you'll be at his house in one train ride and a five-minute walk.
The time seemed too short. All that stands between you and the person you spent days avoiding are these two things? Just yesterday, you had been excited to see him again. Now, the excitement is split with anxiety. Anxiety about seeing him for an extended period of time, anxiety about running out of conversation, and anxiety about not meeting his expectations.
Before you know it, you're knocking on his apartment door. As soon as the door opens, Yuta pulls you into a tight hug, smiling widely.
“This has been the best day of my life. Thank you so much.”
You laugh, giving him a soft squeeze. The anxious feeling in your chest lessons, and you find it easier to breathe. “Yeah, world champs. Not too shabby of a day.”
He laughs. “I know, right! It’s everything I ever wanted. Thank you for being there today. It felt right winning with you there. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
You smile awkwardly, not knowing what to do with all his attention on you. “Come on. You did all the work. Don’t sell yourself so short. Anyway, are you going to let me in?”
He laughs, taking a step back to let you in.
“So, how did you get those tickets so last minute?” you ask, pulling off your shoes.
“Every player gets some for family. Since I only have my parents listed, I only got the two.”
“Oh. Did your parents not want to come?”
His smile changes to a sad one, and you feel your heart drop. You just made up with the guy, and you’re asking about his parents? You open your mouth, filtering through different possibilities that could make it okay.
“No,” he clears his throat. “I don’t think they even know I get tickets for free. I just don’t want them there. Makes me feel sluggish.”
He talks about it in such a nonchalant way that your heart breaks. Thinking back to all his high school games, you can only think of a handful of times you saw both his parents there and a few occasions of just his dad.
“Yuta,” you start but quickly swallow the words as he waves a hand to dismiss it.
“It’s fine. They chose this a long time ago. I’d rather you and your friend be there.”
“Oh, believe me, she loves you for that. She says congratulations by the way,” you say, changing the topic. He visibly relaxes by the topic change and leads you to the couch.
“Yesterday, she gave me a crash course on all the players on your team. This morning, she even woke me up at five am! Five! Can you believe that? The match didn’t start until two pm,” you shake your head, ignoring his laughs.
“What did she say about me?”
“To be honest, it all went in one ear and out the other, but I do remember her saying you’re resilient. Did you really play with a mild concussion?”
He averts his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, that was something.”
“Are you dumb! That is serious. You shouldn’t do that.”
He laughs, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “I lived, so it’s okay. I took a break from practice and did nothing for two days. Perfectly fine now, see?”
He lightly knocks his fist against his head, and you lunge forward to grab his hand.
“Two days is not enough time to recover. What is wrong with you?” You throw his hand back at him.
“It’s been a year! I think my head is fine.”
“I don’t know. Heads are a big deal.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. A silence falls between you two, and you lean back into the couch, looking around the room.
“This is a nice place you got here, Yuta.”
“Oh!” You jump from the sudden outburst, and he jumps up from the couch. “I got something even better. Close your eyes.”
You give him a questioning look before closing your eyes. You hear him walk somewhere into his apartment accompanied by some other noises, one of which you identify as a drawer opening.
“Ta-da!”
You open your eyes, looking up at him, before clasping your hands to your mouth. In his hands, he held a tub of green tea ice cream and two spoons.
“Dude.”
He nods his head before taking his place back on the couch. “I know, right.”
“I haven’t had this in so long.”
“Me either,” he says, handing you a spoon before pulling off the lid and plastic covering.
“Is this,” you hesitate, turning the spoon around in your hands nervously. “Is this your first time eating it since the last time we were together.”
“Duh,” he says, holding out the bucket to you.
You laugh, dipping your spoon into the ice cream.
Before you met Yuta, you had never tried the flavor of ice cream. When you told him this, he had been horrified. He declared it was his favorite flavor of ice cream, and you needed to try some. So he dragged you to the nearest convenience store and bought you a pint.
After that, you kept a tub of it in your freezer for him. It became part of the routine; every Sunday night, you two would sit down and eat the ice cream while watching a movie. When you guys left for college and realized you wouldn’t be around each other as much, you made a pact that you couldn't eat green tea ice cream without the other. Even when he left, you kept to that promise. You tried once, thought it would help you get over the loss of a friend. In the end, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.
“Me too.”
"So tell me about South Africa."
You look at him, your spoon frozen in midair. "How did you know?"
"You talked about it all the time. Did you end up going somewhere else?"
His answer paired with the genuine way he looked at you caught you off guard. You had come here with the expectation of starting over, of having to inform each other of the events missed. You even thought you would have the advantage given his major accomplishments were a simple web search away.
"Um, no, I went," you answer, still not over the surprise. "It was beautiful."
You spend the next few hours trading stories and reminiscing about your high school years. You learned about his teammates and the weird things they did between matches to pass the time. In turn, you told him about your work family and the crazy things Yoshi and Takahito would do if left alone for extended periods of time unchecked.
"Are you hungry?" Yuta asks, changing the topic for the hundredth time.
"Yeah, sure. Do you want to get take out?"
He sakes his head. "No, I have another surprise for you."
"Oh," you smile, pushing yourself up from the couch and following him to the kitchen. He gestures for you to take a seat at the small dining table as he walks over to the fridge. You smile as you see he already set out the chopsticks.
"You're not ready for this," Yuat says, opening the fridge and pulling out two soup bowls and two smaller bowls.
"I'll be the judge of that," you joke, watching as he first brings over the smaller bowls, placing one in front of you.
"It's hiyashi chuka!" He exclaims, placing one of the soup bowls in front of you.
"You made this?" you ask, looking up at him.
"Yep," he beams proudly, taking the seat across from you. "It's way overdue."
You stare down at the food, taking in how neatly the toppings are arranged on the noodles. Slowly, you grab the smaller bowl with the sauce and pour it over the contents.
"Do you not like hiyashi chuka anymore?" he questions softly.
"No, not at all. I'm just so happy."
He smiles, lightly clapping his hands. "Let's eat."
The dinner, like the previous hours, was spent with comfortable conversation. All the anxiety from before has completely disappeared, and you find yourself wishing for the night to never end.
Sadly, the night is over before you know it, and if you don't want Emika yelling at you for "breaking curfew," you have to leave.
"Well, Yuta, this has been really great. We have to do this again soon," you say, pulling your coat on.
“Definitely! I really can’t thank you enough for coming today. Do you want me to walk you home?”
You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”
“Alright. Well, text me when you get back, so I know you’re safe.”
You smile, taking one last minute to take in the moment. Every part of you wants to stay and talk to him all night. With a heavy sigh, you say your goodbye and turn to open the door.
Before you're able to leave, Yuta grabs your wrist. You blink at him a few times instead of voicing your confusion.
“Thank you.”
You smile at the sincerity in his voice. “I should be saying that to you! You cooked me a lovely meal.”
“Not for that,” he laughs, dropping your wrist. “Well, yes for that, but because you forgave me. I have big plans for us.”
You fail to stifle the wide smile that spreads across your face, feeling the same warmth as before spread through you. “I was hesitant at first, but I’m glad we’re talking too. This day has been the best thing to happen to me in a long time.”
He looks at you a moment longer; a soft smile spreads across his face.
"I promise you I'll work to be someone you're proud of."
You pull him into a hug, putting as much love into it as possible. "I'm already proud."
He pulls you in tighter, softly nuzzling his head into your neck. "Not as proud as me."
