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“Bin— I fucked up.”
Chan has never been good at coping.
He’s shit at it, actually. Completely horrible. He always holds off on dealing with it until the very last moment. Until he can’t possibly go further without breaking in two.
Until he’s pissed drunk at a bar at three in the morning, calling the only number he has memorized. And maybe that’s why he came out tonight. Because he knew he’d drink enough to need to call. He knew his phone was on four percent when he left. He knew he needed to talk to the person at the other end of the only number he has memorized.
“Fucking hell, Chan. Where are you?”
He’s sitting on a bench.
Slumped over to one side, the stars drowned out by city lights. It’s been three hundred and sixty days, or something like that. Sometimes, when Chan can’t sleep, he counts through the calendar in his head. All the days since the last June eighth.
Horrible at coping. He’s horrible at it. He’s spent over three hundred days pretending that he’s not doing just that. He feels sick.
Sicker when a car pulls up to the curb. Black. Hazards blinking.
He almost can’t look. Humiliated, even this far in the hole. But Changbin’s got a magnetic quality to him. His hair is longer, wildly curly. He looks tired. His shirt stretches over the planes of his chest in the way Chan has always loved. Just black cotton over muscle. Simple things.
“Fucking hell, Chan,” he says again, this time without the static of the phone line. More disappointed. He smells like the cologne Chan bought him two birthdays ago— because he wasn’t around for the last. He must still wear the cologne Chan bought him two birthdays ago.
“Changbinnie—” he starts, and then the world shifts, and Changbin knows to move, holding him up by the shoulder as he empties his stomach onto the pavement.
He knows to wait until Chan has vomited again, because he always vomits twice, before helping him to the car. And he asks, as he turns the keys in the ignition, “Did you move?”
Chan feels like he wants to cry. He might if he wasn’t already so gone.
“No. Didn’t move.” He falls against the window. Cool glass against his forehead. Throat burning with bile, regret. “Did you move?”
Changbin sighs. He pulls away from the curb. Chan missed him so much. He’s thought about him every day, for hours. Everything. All of it.
The thing is, he missed mundane things the most. Sitting in the passenger seat while Changbin drives. The smell of his cologne. Mundane things. He’s thought about all of it. Coping.
The city is blurry. His mouth tastes bad. Changbin is so quiet now— and Chan was always the quieter of the two.
“I fucked up, Changbin,” Chan says, turning his head just enough to see Changbin from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah,” Changbin sighs again.
The doorman smiles when he sees Changbin. They shake hands, exchange a few words. Chan might be sick again.
Fed water, painkillers, and laid down, tucked in. Changbin doesn’t kiss him. Changbin hasn’t kissed him in a year. He still waits for it like it’s going to happen. The ghost of something he lost that many nights ago.
“Goodnight, Chan.”
Chan tries to reply, but it gets stuck in his throat.
He half wishes he remembered anyone else’s number. But everyone else has other people to remember their number, a second half to their whole. Changbin was his. That’s all he needed for so long. He couldn’t bring himself to remember anything more— and when he tried it didn’t stick. The numbers all jumbled up until all that was left was Changbin’s.
They swim in his head now, too. Spinning and jumbled up.
Only a man that’s horrible at coping dreams of a phone number.
Years ago, Chan never would have thought he’d wake up regretful about anything. He’s always been like that— the type of person that takes accountability for himself, no matter how poor his decisions. He does his best, and even when he fucks up he feels more ambitious to straighten things out than anything. Wallowing isn’t helpful. He’s a hard worker, an honest man.
Or, he was. He’s been a fucking wreck lately.
Head pounding, mouth dry, he swallows down the liter of water on his bedside table, body aching. There’s tylenol left, too, because Changbin is still too nice to him, all things considered. They had promised that, though. To be friends. Changbin is so good to his friends, he always has been. Even if they haven’t talked in months.
Chan stumbles when he stands, hissing out a curse. Forcing himself to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, washing his face. It only makes him feel the slightest bit better, but it’s an improvement from the place he started at. Subzero.
He thought about getting a dog, because after Changbin moved out he had never felt so alone in his life. He never got a dog, and now he’s glad, because he wouldn’t even want a dog to see him like this. Eyes red-rimmed, dark-circled. He looks like he got run over, tossed into the road and hit again.
And Changbin… Chan shouldn’t have called like that. He needed to call, but not like that. He’s just too much of a coward, and he needed a drink to do it. A drink, or five, six, he doesn’t remember.
Changbin is on his couch. Sitting, elbows on his knees, feet planted on the floor, scrolling through his phone.
He looks up, through his stupidly long hair— he never let it get that long before— his lips parted just a bit.
“You didn’t leave,” Chan says, idiotically. The stupid, hopeful part of his heart hurts, asking him to listen. Maybe he’s been torn up, too. Maybe he’s coping just as poorly as you. Maybe he knows you’ve been going to therapy, that you’ve been working on it.
Changbin stands, pockets his phone. He frowns, and Chan knows he’s better off shutting that hopeful part down, because all he sees is pity in Changbin’s eyes. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t die in your sleep. That you weren’t trying to fucking kill yourself.”
“No,” Chan shakes his head. He feels like he can’t get closer. Idling in the doorway. “No. I’m just fucking—” he chokes. Laughs awkwardly. “Stupid.”
“Yeah,” Changbin agrees. He shoves his hands into his pockets. He’s wearing jeans. Chan winces at the thought of Changbin sleeping in jeans, just to stay here for the night. “But, Chan, I don’t fucking know what I’m meant to do—”
“I didn’t tell them we broke up,” Chan cuts him off. Saying what he’s needed to for weeks. Fucking months. Before he can stop himself again.
Changbin closes his eyes. He sits back down, leaning back, pressing his palms into his eyes. “I know, Chan.”
“You— know?” Chan deflates. Stepping back towards the wall, sliding down it until he’s on the floor, knees folded up. Humiliated.
“Lix keeps leaving me voicemails asking about the trip,” Changbin moves his hands to his temples. Looks at Chan, fucking pitifully.
“Oh,” Chan says. “Did you call him back?”
“No. I didn’t— no. I didn’t call him back. I didn’t know what to fucking do,” Changbin mutters. “Fuck, Chan. I get that it’s hard. It’s been so hard for me, too, but—”
Chan swallows— it hurts going down. “I can’t fucking stand it, Bin. That’s why I didn’t tell them. Because I can’t fucking stand the way they’d look at me if they knew— not while I’m still fucked up.”
Changbin makes a conflicted noise, in the back of his throat.
Changbin, who knows him better than anyone else. Who has helped him through the crushing weight of expectation so many times before. Who knows this specific issue better than anyone else could.
“They’re worried about us, Chan. We haven’t been in the same room with everyone in damn near a year.”
“I know. I told you I fucked up. That’s why I called.”
Changbin’s laugh is sour. Bitter. “So that I could fix it for you?”
“No,” Chan flinches, squeezing his eyes shut. His teeth grit. “No. Because I need to ask you for just one weekend.”
Somehow, maybe that’s worse. Much worse than the alternative. And Chan might be a horrible person, because he knows that Changbin cares more about their friends being happy than he does about whatever is wrong between them.
“What?” Changbin squints. He’s breathing more heavily than he usually does, Chan can see it in his shoulders.
“Please,” Chan exhales. Closer to begging than he should be. “Just this weekend. Then I’ll tell them. I just want this one thing to be okay for a little bit longer.”
There’s a stilted, long, uncomfortable silence. Changbin looking at him like he’s lost his mind, failing to say anything.
Eventually, he shifts forward, says, “This isn’t fucking healthy, Chan.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Chan laughs, skull hitting the wall harder than necessary. He has such a headache. A burden it is, being the stupidest man in the world. “But we both miss them, and we both need to go. And the babies are getting bigger, and if we go separately the kids will all act like— fucking— you know how they’ll act— and it’ll ruin everything for everyone.”
Felix is horrible at hiding his distress. Seungmin masks his distress as anger. Minho will glare, and Jisung will probably cry. Jeongin will hole up, away from everyone else— and Chan will be the reason for all of it. That’s how it will go, if they’re honest. Because Chan was the one that was meant to tell them, and Changbin gave him six months. He promised Changbin that he’d do it within six months, and he didn’t.
Chan is a horrible person, and Changbin knows he’s right.
“I gave you a year, Chan. I kept my mouth shut because you told me that you’d handle this one thing,” Changbin’s voice is strained, finger smashing into the surface of the coffee table.
“I know. And I didn’t do it. But I will, as soon as this weekend is over. I promise.”
Changbin looks at him the exact same way he did when he left. Deep, unflinching disappointment. Tongue pushing into his cheek, eyes drifting to the window, like maybe he’ll find an answer there.
“Chan... Fuck, Channie,” Changbin’s forehead creases, brows pinched like he’s in pain.
“I’ll leave you alone afterwards. I won’t keep inconveniencing you, I promise. I’m sorry it got this far— I’m— bad at coping.”
“I never—” Changbin’s hands close into frustrated fists. He takes a steadying breath. “I never wanted you to leave me alone, Chan. That’s not— that was never— fuck. Forget it.” He throws his hands in the air. “If you don’t tell them after this weekend, I will. I’m serious this time. I fucking mean it.”
Chan nods, head on a string. His heart hopes— and he shuts it down. “Anything— yes— yeah, I will. I won’t make you do it. I will.”
“Okay,” Changbin doesn’t look at him when he stands. He goes for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way. “I’ll text you. Don’t call me before I do. I can’t handle it, Chan.” He looks back once, disappointed. “And drink some fucking water, you look like shit.”
“I will,” Chan keeps nodding. His palms are sweating, maybe his body is finally giving out. “I will.”
Changbin leaves, just like he did a year ago, without a second look, slamming the door behind him.
⚘
Seo Changbin
Be outside by five on Saturday morning.
Me
Okay.
Thank you.
[read at 7:41 pm]
⚘
It’s awkward in a way Chan assumed nothing would ever be with Changbin.
Toe curling, sweat inducing, fucking nauseating.
Chan was on the curb at five. He was on the curb at four forty five, actually. Changbin pulled up precisely on time, hair still long, still curly, in a beige linen set, unbuttoned to his sternum. It makes him look incredible. Not that Chan has any business thinking so.
He said something anyway, “You look good, Bin.”
Changbin nodded, kept his eyes forward. And the fucking nauseating, sweat inducing, toe curling awkwardness began.
Tapping his foot on the floor, his fingers on the door, for half an hour. Complete silence. Until he’s sure he’ll have to ask Changbin to pull over so he can throw up if he doesn’t speak.
“Changbin, I—”
“I’m doing this for the kids, not you,” Changbin doesn’t let him finish. Fair enough. He shouldn’t. Chan deserves everything he’s handed. Even if he can tell Changbin is soft around the edges, putting up a bit of a front to protect himself.
“I know. I’d never ask for anything else.”
Because this isn’t for them, it’s for the kids. Their friends. Which, seems a bit backwards now that their kids have kids of their own. But it’s always been like that.
The friend group are their kids— and the kids call them dads in return. And that’s how it was.
Changbin and Chan took care of each of them, all through university, into the real world. Their apartment was the hub of it all— where they’d gather, be when there was nowhere else to go, a home when anyone was between houses. Jeongin had his first kiss on their couch. Minho proposed in the middle of their kitchen. Jisung said yes. Felix helped Seungmin study for his law school admissions exam on the coffee table. Chan and Changbin became Chan and Changbin in that apartment.
When they moved out it was a big deal. But it was time. Grown ups eventually— all of them.
Maybe part of the pressure of making it work was for everyone else. At least, Chan knows that’s why he hasn’t been able to tell anyone for that reason.
It’s been easier to ignore everyone, or to only show up half the time, because everyone’s busy with their own shit. A stop by at a birthday party, a phone call, showing up to one of the twins tee ball games. The ones Changbin didn’t go to.
“So, uh,” Chan clears his throat. “How’ve you been?”
Changbin snorts. He smiles in that stupid way of his where the corner of his mouth lifts— like he’s trying not to smile. “Fine. I’m just— doing whatever I always do. You know.”
“Nothing… crazy I should know about…” Chan trails off, picking at his cuticles. A year ago, Changbin would have reached over and stopped him. Brought his hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. But now he just glances over, and looks back at the road.
“Nope. I’m sure if there was, you'd know about it.”
He would. Because their lives are twisted up like that, and nearly impossible to unwind.
⚘
The day they ended things is stuck in Chan’s head on a sick loop lately.
“I can’t do it anymore, Channie. You can’t bring yourself to let go for anyone— not even me. I’m the only one that’s been trying, so desperately, to break through, and you fucking shut down every time.”
It’s Chan’s fault. It was a last straw. Things kept piling up, and instead of dealing with them, Chan withdrew. He turned off his feeling, and started working more, and came home later, and when Changbin tried to fix it he shut down. They needed some sort of change. They were at a standstill— Chan just wishes he hadn’t pushed it to what it became. That he went to therapy on his own volition, and swallowed his pride and admitted that he was struggling, and that he didn’t know what to do. Changbin would have helped him, he’s positive. But instead he let it sit until it all blew up.
They were planning for the future. They were going to get married, and they were looking into options for starting a family, and Chan fucked it up.
He’s stupid, but it’s too late to go back on it now.
“Just chill, okay?” Changbin mutters, laying his hand on Chan’s back. “It’s just me, Chan. It’s just us. We’re friends, and we always were. It’s not a big deal.”
Chan nods. Leave it to Changbin to read the discontent simmering low under his skin. Friends— they always were! They never even had a conversation about what they were, they just fell into more one day, started kissing while they watched movies in their living room, holding hands in public, going on dates that they never called dates. Said I love you a while later. It was a comfortable evolution of their closeness.
The Kim’s beach house is baby blue, sitting on top of a grassy, sandy hill. It’s got stilts to hold it up, and clapboard siding with white window frames. Perfectly quaint, and larger than it needs to be. A rich people thing, surely. It looks exactly the same every year— a small comfort.
Changbin keeps his hand lingering between Chan’s shoulder blades as they trek to the front porch. He only drops it to open the door— left unlocked for them.
“Hello!” he calls into the house, both of them taking off their shoes at the mat.
“In the kitchen!” Felix’s sweet lilt carries from the depths of the house.
Chan and Changbin know the drill by now. The room that they always stay in is off the main entrance. It’s separated a bit from the other rooms— a necessity now that their friends have kids.
They drop their bags there, and Changbin refuses to meet his eye, setting his things on his assigned side of the bed. The side he always sleeps on. Or, slept on.
Changbin is already on his way out before Chan processes that they’ll be sharing a bed again. Because of course they will be— that’s the whole thing. Their friends think they’ve been together for twelve years.
The floorboards creak under Chan’s feet, slowly trailing Changbin into the house. He sucks in an anticipatory breath before turning the corner, leans against the doorway with his arms crossed.
Felix and Seungmin are in the kitchen, having their morning coffee. Chaewon sits on Seungmin’s hip, chewing on her chubby little fist.
“Where’s my perfect girl?” Changbin bellows, arms already extended. Chaewon shrieks, babbling some rendition of Changbin’s name and lighting up immediately, smacking her dad in the process. Her hair is tied into two little pigtails on top of her head, and she’s wearing the cutest little pink frilly dress. It’s endlessly endearing how soft Seungmin has gone since having a daughter. He picks out her outfits like it’s his full time job.
Seungmin rolls his eyes as he passes off the baby. “Good morning, so nice to see you two after your year of rest and relaxation— so glad to know you still care about my child more than me.”
“Your daddy is crazy,” Changbin baby talks, bringing Chaewon right up to his face before lifting her into the air. She peels with laughter. “Isn’t your daddy crazy, Wonnie? He’s crazy!”
Chan breathes out. His chest hurts. Changbin loves kids. Chan loves watching Changbin with kids. A knife twisting into his gut. A reminder of what he could have had if he didn’t fuck everything up.
“Channie!” Felix chirps, breaking Chan’s shame spiral. He prances over, gathering Chan into a hug. “It’s been so long. I missed you guys.”
“Missed you too, Lix,” Chan breathes in the smell of Felix’s shampoo, the same as it’s always been. “Everyone’s been busy this year, I think.” Chan hasn’t. He’s just been pretending to be. His only constant booking is his therapy sessions on Wednesday nights after work.
“Kids tend to do that,” Felix laughs, moving to give Changbin a wet kiss on his cheek before tucking himself under Seungmin’s arm. “The number of activities this child is in, you’d think she’s sixteen years instead of months.”
“She goes to this daddy daughter music class on the weekends, and I mean— incredible on a drum, if you can believe it,” Seungmin adds. He quickly brings his coffee to his mouth afterwards, like he’s embarrassed about gushing. Felix looks up at him so sweetly it hurts Chan’s teeth.
“A musician, just like Uncle Chan, huh?” Changbin raises his eyebrows, propping Chaewon on his hip, turning her towards Chan.
“She’s probably better than me,” Chan reaches out to poke Chaewon’s cheek, her tiny teeth poking out when she smiles. “Should I see if we’re hiring?”
“We won’t make her pay rent until she turns eighteen, so she should be good for now,” Seungmin says, earning a smack and a scowl from his husband.
The sound of the door opening again is accompanied by incomprehensible screaming, the quick pound of footsteps down the hallway, Jisung’s weary voice shouting, “Hey! Take your shoes off, you demons!”
Footsteps pause, retreat, and then start again shortly afterwards. Chan barely has time to brace for impact before he’s being barreled into by two tiny bodies, wrapping around his legs and trying to take him out.
Matching wild heads of hair and striped t-shirts over jean shorts, Chan has to peel one of the twins off before he can tell them apart. They look strikingly alike for being fraternal when they’ve not had their hair brushed yet, even with Gyuvin pulling ahead in height.
“Kyujinnie,” Chan pulls the wiggling child away from him.
“Rah!” she screams, like she’s a some sort of rabid monster rather than a feral child. Gyuvin wails, taking off through the door, Kyujin forcing her way out of Chan’s grasp to chase after him. “I’m going to eat you!”
“Those two are going to be actors, not musicians,” Changbin snorts.
Jisung drags himself into the kitchen with his brightest smile, despite his evident exhaustion. “Good morning!” he says, giving out one armed hugs. “Minho is behind me somewhere. I think maybe Gyuvin knocked him over in the driveway, I didn’t check.”
“Gyuvin knocked me over in the driveway,” Minho announces. He still looks pretty, even with his hair all messed up and dirt on his cheek. He makes his rounds, smacking Changbin on the back, then Chan. “Hi. It’s so good to see you. Both of you— and Felix— Seungmin I saw last week, it was uneventful and uninteresting.”
Seungmin throws Minho a middle finger behind his daughter’s back.
“And Chaewonnie! You little angel,” Minho coos, wiggling a finger into the baby’s belly. “You’re so perfect, you never scream or put bugs in your daddy's hair as a science experiment, do you?”
“She would never,” Changbin grins at her. He’s so handsome, it hits Chan like a truck every time he smiles.
“Jeonginnie will be in tonight with his new boyfriend,” Felix oohs and ahhs. “And then we will have successfully gathered our little family once more! Hurrah!”
“Hurrah,” Chan echoes, with just a twinge of sadness attached.
Felix looks at him with the slightest hint of worry, but he looks away when Chan does. Not lingering.
Chan needs to remember that he’s meant to be having fun. That this is always the best time of the year. The most fun. All of his kids in one place, everyone free of burdens. It’s fine. He’s going to have a good time.
⚘
Changbin keeps a good distance from him for most of the day.
Chan doesn’t blame him— and with the commotion of everyone settling in, and catching up, it’s understandable. It’s not out of the ordinary, and no one will question them if Chan is on the porch, and Changbin is on the beach with the twins. If Changbin won’t meet Chan’s eye, and Chan nearly flinches every time Changbin brushes past him. That’s just between them.
It’s good to catch up with the kids, though. Minho’s got the twins in dance, and Seungmin is about to make partner in his firm. Jisung is Jisung, perfectly loveable, and Felix is just the same.
There’s a shame in lying to them, but there’s worse shame in the alternative. In being the reason they’re all trying to hold it together all weekend, acting like nothing is wrong.
The back porch overlooks the ocean, standing on stilts over the beach. Chan can see Gyuvin covering Changbin’s legs in sand, Kyujin talking his ear off while she pulls on his fingers. It’s cute. He can’t look too long or he hurts, right in the center of his chest.
Just as the sun starts dipping below the horizon, and Minho starts pulling out food for the grill, Jisung leans over the railing to yell, “Kids! Time to wash up before dinner!”
Feet pounding up stairs, screaming, the twins following Jisung inside, Minho smacking Seungmin’s hand away from the peppers he chopped up, Changbin stepping back onto the deck, staying a polite distance from Chan— and then the back door opens again.
Jeongin has arrived, fingers laced with a strikingly gorgeous man.
“Innie!” Felix cheers, the baby on his lap keeping him from descending on Jeongin’s cheeks to pinch them silly.
“Hi everyone,” Jeongin sports a subtle blush. He pulls his boyfriend out further— long black hair tucked behind his ears, naturally plush, pouty lips, a beauty mark beneath his eye. The man could be a model. “I’d like you to meet Hyunjin.”
A wave of enthusiastic hellos moves around the group of them— notably stopping when Hyunjin’s eyes meet Changbin, all the way to the far left.
The man gasps, shaking himself free of Jeongin’s hand to scurry over. “Oh my god, Seo Changbin! As I live and breathe!”
“Hwang,” Changbin breaks into a smile, dazzling. He opens his arms to welcome Hyunjin’s hug. “It’s been a while.”
Chan never had problems with jealousy, because he and Changbin were rock solid. They trusted each other implicitly, and neither of them would ever do anything. They loved each other more than anything else.
But Jeongin’s boyfriend lays his hand on Changbin’s cheek, and he looks at him in this profoundly intimate way— like he knows him on a level that only Chan is meant to.
“Changbin, how the hell do you two know each other?” Seungmin speaks up for him, always the outwardly nosy one. His nose all scrunched up. “Jeongin has been keeping all of us miles away.”
Changbin laughs, he pats Hyunjin on the back, and Chan isn’t at the right angle to see if his hand lingers or not. “We’re old friends. Used to be coworkers, but he moved on a few months ago.”
“Six months,” Hyunjin corrects, falling back into Jeongin’s side. “Which is why I never knew that his Binnie is my Changbin,” Hyunjin lays a delicate, long finger on Jeongin’s chest, and then his own.
“This is great!” Jeongin grins, wide and pretty. He looks at Hyunjin like he’s the only person that exists. The only one that’s ever existed. “I told him he just has to win over my dads, and then we can get married— so, you’re off to a fantastic start, baby.”
Hyunjin smiles sweetly as Jeongin drops a kiss on his cheekbone. He’s eyeing Changbin mysteriously. Like he knows something. “Changbin and I have so much to catch up on, too.”
Changbin’s smile goes just a bit tight for a second too long. Something only Chan would notice.
It’s jealousy then— hot and true down his windpipe, settling in the pit of his stomach. There’s nothing else to call it. Six months ago, when he and Changbin were nothing, and Changbin had, apparently, been close friends with his beautiful coworker. Someone that knows him well enough to touch, and to think of him fondly.
“And you must be Chan?”
Chan’s brain wakes up again, very abruptly. He extends his hand to Hyunjin, who is now right in front of him. “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Yep. That’s me.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Hyunjin says, achingly sincere. Chan doesn’t know in which way. His stomach turns.
Maybe it was pillow talk. My ex was never this good. Chan is his name. He fucked it all up for us, but I’m glad.
A strong hand closes around the back of Chan’s neck, thumb rubbing at the base of his skull, teasing his hair. “Sorry, he doesn’t do well in the sun,” Changbin excuses. He leans his hip on Chan’s chair, lingering.
“No worries, we have time this weekend,” Hyunjin nods, eyes glued to where Changbin’s hand meets Chan’s neck.
They have all weekend!
Chan wishes they didn’t.
⚘
Over dinner, Chan finds himself near tears.
Not because of Changbin, or because of the sick, horrible feeling of jealousy Hyunjin’s arrival brought him— but because everything he loves is in one place.
Seungmin’s arm over the back of Felix’s chair as Felix feeds Chaewon peas. Minho whispering in Jisung’s ear, smirk hanging on his lips, Jisung smacking him playfully. Gyuvin and Kyujin taking turns telling Changbin jokes, a competition, no doubt. And Jeongin on the other end of the table, one of his hands never leaving Hyunjin, whether it be on his leg, or his arm, or buried in his hair. Brighter than Chan has seen him in a long time.
And Changbin keeps looking at him like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. On the edge of worried— if Chan didn’t know better.
He leans in at some point, asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Chan feigns a smile, nods.
Changbin’s looks don’t let up.
They excuse themselves to bed early, because they got up before four in the morning, and they both so badly need to shower.
Chan lets Changbin go first. He stares at the ceiling until it’s his turn in the bathroom. He ignores the still curious look Changbin gives him when they brush past each other in the doorway.
Changbin brought his shampoo from home, even though the Kim’s keep every room well stocked. The smell of it almost sends Chan over the edge, tears threatening to fall.
He’s selfish, sure. But he uses it anyway. A small spot of greed for a much larger sense of comfort. He can almost pretend that everything’s normal. That he’s buried his nose in the nape of Changbin’s neck, inhaling him— the one sure thing that helps him sleep.
He's been sleeping horribly since Changbin left.
“Get it together,” Chan hisses to himself in the mirror, hair wild around his head from being toweled dry. “You’re stupid, this is why he left you.”
The words fall between him and the wall, landing somewhere in the sink. Useless.
Changbin is on the bed, sitting up. He looks beautiful before bed— curly hair clean and untamed, soft, his skin tinged red. He puts down his phone when Chan appears, brows knitting together.
“You have to stop looking at me like I’m going to die,” Chan tries to joke, tone falling flat. “The kids are going to think I’m sick.”
Changbin’s frown grows. He crosses his arms, waiting until Chan is settled on the edge of the bed before he speaks. “Are you okay, Channie?”
“I’m fine,” Chan breathes. He can see Changbin’s fingers twitch from the corner of his eye.
“I know you’re not fine. I thought we were closer than that.”
“We were,” Chan runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “But then you spent the past year avoiding me, and I spent the past year avoiding you, and I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Chan,” Changbin’s voice is weak. Sad.
“Bin.”
“That’s not fair.”
Chan gives. He looks up, meets Changbin’s eye, both of them desperate. “I know. I know it’s not. Sorry.”
“Channie— I—” Changbin pauses, his throat bobs when he swallows. Chan knows every tick of his being, every second. “I missed you. Every day. I’ve missed having you in my life. It fucking sucks, being without my best friend.”
Chan doesn’t know if he can ever get over him. If he’ll ever be in a place where he and Changbin can just be friends without him wishing there were more. Or if it even matters. He can keep that to himself, if Changbin is willing to be around. He’s stupid, helpless, fucking torn apart and left with a hole in his chest.
“That’s what’s wrong,” Chan admits. He blinks back frustrated tears, tips his face towards the ceiling. “It just— sucks. It hurts. I think about you all the time, and I miss you so badly. I have a drawer of your shit that I haven’t thrown away, because I can’t stand it.” It’s too much, probably. As close to a sordid confession as he can get.
“I know it’s been hard, Channie,” Changbin reaches for him, and Chan doesn’t have the heart to pull away. He lets their fingers brush, idly.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist. It’s been helpful.” One of the things Changbin always pushed for. That he said would help. Chan always said I don’t have time. He was scared then, too.
“Good,” Changbin curls his hand around Chan’s fingers. “That’s good.”
Chan stares holes into where their skin touches. Warm and smooth— too nice a feeling. He shouldn’t be allowed. “You were right. I’m sorry I never listened. I’m stubborn.”
“I know,” Changbin smiles, just slightly. “I know you are.”
“It’s just hard, being here with everyone. And I need a second to adjust. And tomorrow will be better. I promise.” Chan will make it better if it kills him. He has to.
“Okay,” Changbin nods. The tension in his forehead loosens a bit, but there's still some lingering. Changbin is like that, though. And Chan knows that he probably wants to ask if Chan wants a hug, but Chan doesn’t. He can’t.
“I’m going to go brush my teeth, and then I’ll be ready for bed.”
“Okay,” Changbin releases his hand. Chan can feel his eyes on his back the entire way to the bathroom.
And they don’t say anything else, besides soft little goodnights. Chan wishes he could kiss Changbin, just once more. He doesn’t even remember the last time, because it was so normal before. He took it for granted.
He buries his nose into the pillow, and smells Changbin’s shampoo on his hair. Both of them have their backs to one another, stubborn.
Changbin isn’t asleep. Chan can tell by the way he’s breathing— even though it’s been half an hour since the lights shut off.
And it’s nagging. An ugly, jealous worm in the pit of his stomach. He wants to know. He needs to know— “Have you been with anyone since we broke up?”
“What?” Changbin doesn’t move. Not even a shuffle under the sheets.
“Have you seen anyone since we broke up?”
“I— yeah. Not seriously. But, one or two,” Changbin’s voice is low. He almost sounds guilty. Chan can see Hyunjin’s face, lighting up when he saw Changbin— clear as day in his head. Changbin coughs lightly. Asks, “What about you?”
“No. No one.”
Because it’s always been Changbin, and he thinks it always will be.
⚘
“My god, to think, I jizz in a cup and they come out just like their father— Kyujin! Do not put a worm in your brother’s hair!”
“He wants it there!” Kyujin howls back, worm dangling precariously over Gyuvin’s head.
“Yeah! I want it there!” Gyuvin agrees.
“Christ almighty,” Jisung mutters under his breath.
The kids stare at him for a long five seconds, waiting for him to come down on them, but he just brings a hand to his eyes. The worm falls into Gyuvin’s hair, and Kyujin squeals in delight.
Jisung reaches over to grab Chan’s bicep and shake it, his eyes wide in horror. “Channie, they love bugs, and they love breaking the law. What am I going to do? They bring bugs inside just so the cats can eat them!”
“Are you sure Minho didn’t, like, switch the jizz cups? He’d do that. He does love to break the law too.”
“No,” Jisung shakes his head, uncrossing and recrossing his legs. “It’s all in the cheeks. They both have my cheeks. But I think maybe he was doing some subliminal messaging while they were babies, slowly drawing them to his side.”
Chan snorts. “Would you have it any other way, Jisungie?”
“God,” Jisung sighs. “Absolutely not.”
When Chan woke up he was in a better mood. Changbin was already out of bed, sitting at the breakfast table with Chaewon in his lap. Chan kissed them both on the head as he walked by, out of habit. Changbin didn’t flinch, and he didn’t act like anything was wrong, but Chan was making the air sour just by stewing in his own embarrassment.
So when Jisung came out, backpack flung over his shoulder, children running around his legs, and said, “I’m taking the kids for a walk to the park, please, I beg of someone to come with me.” Chan hopped up.
If he kissed both of them on the head again on his way out, that’s no one’s business but his.
“It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? That everyones all—” Jisung waves his hands around in the air, searching for the words. “Grown up?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, we’re all fucking— adults now, that have settled down, and are set for life in the family department, you know?” Jisung always lowers his tone to a whisper when he swears. Chan doesn’t have the heart to tell him it makes the words even more noticeable. “Like, look at this— Minho and I have a house, and fucking, kids, and Seungmin and Felix too. Jeongin is going to marry that Hyunjin guy— I guarantee it, because he’s never brought anyone home before. And you and Changbin are you and Changbin! We’re all grown up! And in love! Isn’t that crazy?”
Chan gets a sinking feeling in his gut. He smiles when Kyujin runs up to present him with a flower she plucked out of the ground. He’s sure there’s a bug on it, the way she runs away laughing like a maniac, but he doesn’t really care.
“We did well, Jisungie, didn’t we?”
“You did well. All of us would be lost without you and Bin, I swear,” Jisung bumps their shoulders together.
“It’s the other way around, Sung, really.”
“Whatever,” Jisung shakes his head, glowing from the inside out. “By the way, that flower definitely has bug eggs on it or something, so don’t put it in your hair.”
Chan wonders how long things will stay like this. Once he tells everyone that they’re broken up. If they’ll be able to do family vacations and maintain this air of finality— that they’ve got it all together, and everything is perfect.
He hopes so, but he just doesn’t know.
What if Changbin finds someone else, and brings them around, and Chan is still too fucked up about it all to ever fall in love with anyone else, ever again? He feels like that will be the case.
Changbin is the love of his life. The great one. He found him too early, and he lost him too soon, and everything else is going to have to go according to that, because he’s the dumbass that fucked it up.
He’s much too lame to be the cool uncle. He doesn’t like to travel alone, and he doesn’t have gadgets in his apartment. He puts his money in savings, and keeps his apartment free of clutter. Changbin brought all the good to their two halves of the whole. Without Changbin, Chan is just some guy.
But what’s that saying— it’s better to have loved and lost. Chan would agree with that. Even if it hurts now. Because he got to have the most wonderful man in the universe for so many years. He tasted heaven, and he’ll get to hold on to that, at the very least.
⚘
“Are you and Bin fighting?” Minho’s knife slices cleanly through the watermelon, smacking down onto the cutting board with a loud thwack that makes Chan flinch.
“No,” Chan blinks, looks down at where he’s supposed to be stacking the cut pieces onto a tray. “Why would you say that?”
Minho raises one eyebrow condescendingly. He’s evil. He loves to commit crimes. “Because you’re staring at him like he’s pissed you off.”
Well. Maybe he was. He was staring at Changbin and Hyunjin, indiscriminately, because they’re sitting on the couch together engaged in what looks to be a serious, hushed conversation. Jeongin is outside with the kids, and Chan is in the kitchen, and their ‘partners’ are cozying up. Catching up.
Chan has a horrible feeling that Hyunjin is one of the people Changbin has been with since they broke up. He just— feels like it.
“I’m not staring at him like he’s pissed me off, I’m just zoning out,” Chan argues. His fingers are sticky with fruit juice, the watermelon perfectly ripe, rind perfectly green. “Your husband pissed me off this morning. He kept calling me old.”
“You are old,” Minho points his knife towards Chan’s fingers ominously.
“I’m one year older than you, Min.”
“Old. All I hear from that sentence is blah blah blah, old, blah blah blah.”
Chan carefully directs the knife away from him, guiding Minho to continue chopping.
“Also, you guys should really switch rooms with Jeongin and Hyunjin, because they were going at it all night long. Absolutely no shame, either— I knocked on the door and Jeongin answered completely naked. Told me to fuck off.”
“No thanks,” Chan grimaces. “I think we’ll pass. We have seniority.”
He wonders if Jeongin knows, that his boyfriend was with Changbin in the past. He can’t. He couldn’t. He’d be sulking, kicking rocks down on the beach all day. He’d know that Chan and Changbin have broken up, and he’d be making it everyone’s problem, Chan included.
Chan glances towards the windows overlooking the back porch. Jeongin is watching the twins very seriously as each of them paint his fingernails. Gyuvin using a neon pink, Kyujin a neon green. They’re cute.
When he turns back towards the couch, Changbin and Hyunjin are looking at him, they quickly look away when he notices, foreheads tipped together. Chan scoffs, busies himself with arranging the watermelon.
“Beach day, beach day, beach day!” Felix marches into the kitchen with Chaewon on his shoulders, their matching freckles darkened in the summer sun. Felix raises each of the baby’s fists on each syllable, uncontained giggles tumbling out of her. She has a tiny sunhat on, a striped little bathing suit.
“The princess has spoken!” Changbin announces, finally standing up from the couch. He moves around everyone naturally, finding Chan, hand dragging down his back. “Need any help?”
“No, we’re good,” Chan says, trying not to sound too bitter.
“Okay,” Changbin leans in and catches a kiss on Chan’s cheek, probably for Minho’s benefit.
“Pack water, Seungmin always forgets,” Minho orders, once again swinging his knife around to point to the fridge.
“I do not,” Seungmin pops his head in the doorway. “Jisung does.”
“Liar!” Minho bellows, pointing at Seungmin next. “Judge, take him away! Perjury!”
“That’s not how perjury works,” Seungmin rolls his eyes. “And it’s also blatantly false, considering I’m telling the truth and you’re the one that’s lying—”
“Chaewon! Your daddy is a liar!” Minho interjects. “Can you say li-ar?”
Chaewon blinks at him with her big, shiny eyes. “Li-ar,” she mimics.
“She’s a genius!” Minho exclaims, knife lifted to the sky. “A genius, I say!”
Changbin claps, cooler bag packed full of water over his shoulder. “Alright! Let’s go! Beach day!”
“Beach day! Woo!” Felix grins, pumping one of Chaewon’s fists.
Beach days are fine. Chan likes anything well enough if his friends are around.
He’s always taking on the dad role— or maybe it’s the mom role, holding down the fort while the kids play in the water. Entertaining whoever comes back to sit under the umbrellas for a rest, feeding them snacks and water.
Right now he’s watching over Chaewon sitting between Seungmin’s legs, eating a slice of watermelon, juice running down her little chin as Seungmin attempts to reapply her sunscreen. Felix is sitting in a beach chair reading one of his raunchy romance novels.
Minho and Jisung went off with Changbin and the twins to buy ice cream down the beach. Hyunjin and Jeongin are sharing a lounger, despite how hot it is. Hyunjin between Jeongin’s thighs, laying back on his chest, Jeongin drawing lazy patterns on Hyunjin’s stomach with his fingers. They look too good together. It’s eerie. Chan wonders if Jeongin has a jealousy problem.
“So what do you do for work, Hyunjin?” Seungmin asks, moving on to retying Chaewon’s pigtails, making sure they’re perfect.
“I’m a creative director for an entertainment company,” Hyunjin smiles. His sunglasses are big and fashionable.
“He’s an artist,” Jeongin adds.
“Be quiet,” Hyunjin giggles, smacking him playfully. “I’m not. I do all sorts of things.”
“And how did you two meet? Was it love at first sight?” Felix puts his book down for this, the oiled up man on the cover staring at Chan. Like he can see right through him.
“Hyunne’s company is in the same plaza as mine— we ran into each other on his very first day of work, actually,” Jeongin smiles, tucking Hyunjin’s hair behind his ear for him. They move in tandem very easily. Like they’re meant to exist as one instead of two. Chan used to think he and Changbin were like that. “He ran into me, really. Dropped all his things, tried to run away. But I knew the second I saw him I couldn’t just let him go.”
“I was embarrassed!” Hyunjin pouts. “He was wearing a suit, and he looked so handsome.”
“So I said, You’ll meet me here for lunch, won’t you? What time is your break?”
Felix wolf whistles, clapping wildly. Chaewon joins in, excited on principal.
“And that worked?” Seungmin scowls.
“Yes,” Hyunjin’s face goes pink, even though he doesn’t seem all that flustered. “Have you seen him?”
“Many, many times, unfortunately,” Seungmin deadpans.
Jeongin sticks his tongue out petulantly. “I’d kick you so hard if your child wasn’t sitting here.”
“Are they always like this?” Hyunjin asks, tangling his fingers with Jeongin’s over his stomach, completely content.
“Always,” Chan sighs. “You try so hard to raise kids, and they just end up bickering like children as adults.”
“Nah, you did a good job with us, Channie,” Felix clucks his tongue.
In the distance the rest of the group is coming back, the twins running ahead of the adults. Kyujin arrives first, plopping on her knees next to Chaewon, talking to her like they’re in the middle of a full on conversation. Gyuvin goes for Jeongin— his favorite uncle— clinging to his neck from around the back of his chair.
“Yo, Chan— Bin needs more sunscreen, his shoulders are getting too pink and he’s being stubborn,” Jisung smacks Changbin’s bare back to make his point, Changbin yelping on contact.
Chan sighs, already reaching for his sunscreen. He scotches back on his chair, legs parted around either side, making room for Changbin to sit on the end. It’s unfair how good Changbin looks without clothes on. He always frequented the gym, but it seems like he’s only gotten more defined. His chest— always Chan’s favorite part— has certainly bulked up. Chan has spent more time than he’d like to admit laying prayers over Changbin’s skin. Worshiping him. They both like it.
“Still got the hots for me, Bang?” Changbin smirks, tapping the bottom of Chan’s chin amidst his open ogling. He sits down, lays one hand on Chan’s thigh, casually.
“After all this time,” Chan manages, his brain glitching for a full ten seconds before coming back to life. He thought Changbin was referencing their breakup for everyone to hear.
“Don’t worry, he looks at you the same way,” Felix tosses out, like it’s supposed to make Chan feel better. It’s certainly not meant to make his heart flip over in his chest, or his ribs close in.
Chan focuses very hard on squirting sunscreen into his hands, working it over the planes of Changbin’s back. It’s very technical— nothing more. Not that Changbin’s skin is smooth, and perfect, and so deliciously easy to mark up.
“I think that spot is good, baby,” Changbin mutters, tapping Chan’s thigh. Chan jerks, moving on to another still chalky, white spot.
“Just doing my due diligence,” Chan says.
“Mhm,” Changbin’s smile carries in his tone. Even through a hum.
⚘
“When you and uncle Binnie get married, can I be a flower girl, and Gyuvin be a flower boy?” Kyujin skips along the sand in her little pink crocs, holding onto Chan’s hand for dear life to propel her leaps higher.
She very specifically asked for Chan to accompany her back to the house to use the bathroom, and Chan felt special, but now he’s understanding that she has ulterior motives.
“Because daddy says that the only chance for me to be a flower girl is if one of uncles get married— and for Guyvinnie, too.”
“Well,” Chan laughs. He doesn’t want to lie to the kid. She’s five. Not that she’d remember, but, still. He’d know— and he’d feel guilty about it. “You know uncle Jeongin might get married soon, too.”
“But I already asked him, and he said yes, so I was asking you too.”
“You want as much flower girl time as you can get, huh?”
Kyujin nods happily.
“Smart kid. Ok. If we get married, you’re it.”
“Yay!” Kyujin begins vibrating with excitement. She’s so cute. Chan wonders if the kids will be confused when they find out. If they’ll be mad at him. “Just so you know, Gyuvinnie just pees in the ocean, but I don’t believe in that. It’s not sanitary.”
Chan shakes his head. Kyujin is repeating, nearly line for line, something Jisung always says. “And your father tells me that you’re all Minho…”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chan sighs. “Take your shoes off before going inside.”
The ocean is wide, and vast, and mysterious. Chan thought about joining the navy instead of going to school. Then he realized he’s not about that, like, politically… but being on the ocean seemed nice.
Waves are always more powerful than they appear, and there’s a multitude of things that could kill him just under the surface.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Changbin whispers, right over his shoulder.
Chan sucks in a sharp breath, eyes falling shut, and relaxes right away. Changbin has that effect on people. Calming. Warm.
“Did you— and Hyunjin sleep together?”
The waves crash around them, standing waist deep. Back on the sand the kids scream.
Changbin stares at him, openly. “Excuse me?”
“Was Hyunjin the guy you slept with after we broke up?”
“Not that it’s any of your business—” Changbin laughs. He laughs so loudly that it overtakes anything the ocean could ever be. “But, god, no. What the hell gave you that impression?”
Chan should fall backwards, let the sea take him away. It would be better. “You two seem… close.”
“We’re friends, Channie.” Changbin wades a bit closer. Closer still. He winds his arms around Chan’s stomach, sets his chin on Chan’s shoulder. “The guy I saw, it meant nothing. I didn’t even get his name. It’s hard to care about someone else when you’re still not over what you had before.”
“How long ago was it?” The wave that comes next would have knocked him off balance if Changbin wasn’t holding them up. Always the steady one. “I know I shouldn’t— I’m sorry—”
“It was about a month ago,” Changbin says, plainly. He takes a deep breath, and removes himself from Chan’s back. He holds his hand out for Chan to take, anyway. “C’mon, it’s almost time to go home.”
Chan takes what he’s offered, and he doesn’t let go until he has to.
He’ll make sure he’s not the one to let go this time.
⚘
Jisung cannot hold his liquor.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” he shouts, smacking a spoon on his glass, Minho egging him on from his side.
The kids are long asleep, and the adults are celebrating. Seungmin’s promotion, or Jeongin’s luck in love, or just anything that allows the lot of them an excuse to get drunk without feeling guilty about how bad their hangovers will be in the morning.
“Come on, kiss!” Minho bangs his fist on the table.
This is a game that they’ve played since before Chan and Changbin were official. When the rest of their friends thought they were playing matchmaker, even though Chan and Changbin had been sleeping together for long before this started, in secret. Every time they get drunk, their friends start cheering and telling them to kiss, and they won’t quit it until they do.
It’s not a big deal.
Chan is three drinks in, and he’s flushed in the face and loose. Changbin is only one behind him, smiling more, arm thrown around the back of Chan’s chair.
“Alright!” Changbin says, putting his hand up. He reaches for Chan’s face, fingers slotting against his jaw like they’re meant to be there. His thumb swipes a gentle path over Chan’s cheek. “Alright?” he repeats, only for Chan.
“Kiss me, Binnie.”
And Changbin does. For the first time in a year.
Chan’s hands land on Changbin’s knees, because they’re digging into the side of his thigh. His fingers curl, and his eyes close, and Changbin tastes like that shitty beer he loves so much. His lips are still soft, and he still takes the lead, and it’s impossibly easy for him to urge Chan’s mouth apart, their tongues sliding together for only a moment.
The room breaks into raucous disgusted noises— always part two of the game. A disgusted reaction at seeing their dads kiss. It’s fun.
When Changbin pulls away his lips are pink, and slightly wet. He smiles, softly, and squeezes Chan’s cheek with his thumb.
“There you go,” Changbin says, looking back at the table at large. “You win again!”
Chan only looks away when Jeongin pokes his shoulder, asking to top off his glass. And he slides it over without a word, still stunned, lips tingling.
Coping, or something more— whatever he and Changbin are doing.
I missed you. Every day. I’ve missed having you in my life.
But Chan can’t get his hopes up, even as Changbin’s arm settles around his shoulders again, fingers idly toying with the hem of his sleeve. Because he doesn’t deserve to be hopeful, after everything that happened.
A year is a long time, and he’s been working so hard to make sure he never does what he did before again. That he’s secure enough in himself that he wouldn’t ever need to, and that no one else has to hurt because of him. And if Changbin would take him back… well— there’s no question. None. But he doesn’t know. He can’t tell if he’s just so bad at coping that he’s seeing what he wants to see in the glint in Changbin’s eye.
They’ll all go home tomorrow, and everything will go back to the same. Maybe he and Changbin can see each other as friends. But Chan will have to admit to the rest of them that that’s all it is.
It’s just so easy to pretend for now. Finishing off his next drink, and leaning into Changbin’s side, because he’s just sleepy enough to excuse it.
“When Minnie and I got married, Chan cried more than anyone else,” Felix grins, speaking vaguely to Hyunjin, though Chan is sure he’s just wanting to bring it up. “I remember my mom grabbing me by the arm and asking, Is he okay?”
“Shut up,” Chan complains. Changbin laughs, pulling him closer, hand rubbing at his hip.
“He cried so much at ours too,” Jisung adds, words slurring together. “I think our guest book has tear stains in it.”
“I just love you guys so much,” Chan argues, scowl settling on his face.
Jeongin fills up his glass again, laughing. “That’s okay, Channie. But if you don’t cry even harder at ours, I’ll be really offended and feel really left out, just so you know.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem, Jeongin,” Changbin stage whispers over Chan’s head, pretending to shield him from the gossip.
Chan gasps, smacking Changbin on the chest. His heart skips when Changbin catches his hand, kisses it, like it’s second nature, and then lets their fingers wind together.
“I’m serious, he shows off pictures of the babies like they’re our actual grandkids. And of you all too,” Changbin continues, glancing down at Chan incredibly fondly. He puts on a poor impression of Chan’s voice, “Mrs. Park, have I told you that Minho bought his own studio? And look at this new picture of Chaewonnie, she looks just like her dad, doesn’t she? Those freckles!”
Felix’s bottom lip pushes out, completely dramatic and impossibly genuine. “Awww, Channie,” his voice wobbles. He gets up and leans over the table to capture Chan in a sloppy, stretched hug. All the bottles on the surface shake precariously until Seungmin steadies it with his hands.
“We love you so much too,” Jisung flings a finger in Chan’s direction. “You’re so cool, and so strong. You’re the best dad ever.”
Chan can feel tears welling in his eyes. He looks to Changbin for support, but Changbin just shrugs in agreement, thumb drawing soothing patterns over Chan’s hipbone. “He’s right,” Changbin says. And he leans forward to kiss Chan’s nose. Right on the tip. Chan’s chest explodes into a million pieces. Stars and butterflies.
“This is so gay, we need to play a game or something,” Seungmin interjects, always one to shy away from vulnerable emotions. That’s why it took him and Felix so long to make it official. Chan knows everything about these people, and he never wants to stop. He wants to know all about them forever and ever.
“A game!” Felix nods emphatically. “Mario Kart!”
“Mario Kart!” Jisung and Jeongin echo, much too excited.
The group of them, piled up on couches, drinking and playing video games— it’s nostalgic.
Even with Hyunjin here now, giggly and pretty as Jeongin peppers kisses all over his cheeks whenever he can, and with everything that’s not like it was before, it’s still the same. Changbin at his side, always touching him. Minho cheating to help Jisung win. Felix in his own world, staring only at Seungmin.
Chan feels warm, and happy. He’s drunk. He’s getting drunker. Changbin is so close, and he’s being so sweet, and Chan is really, horribly in love with him.
He was stupid to ever think he’d get over it. There’s nothing to get over. Changbin is his person, and he’ll love him forever.
Because even now, when they’re not how they were, and it’s been so long, they still fit. Everything fits back into place, no matter how much time they spent apart. They’re like that— he and Changbin. Best friends, more than anything else.
Changbin still helps him back to their room when it’s time for bed, and laughs with Chan when they trip in the hall. And he brings Chan to the bathroom when he can read the nausea on Chan’s face. Changbin is so beautiful.
Knees on cold tile, Chan’s stomach turns. Changbin is running his fingers through his hair, dragging all his hair up, away from his face, trying to keep it clear. Chan looks up at him, and he swears Changbin is probably an angel.
“Why did we break up? Changbinnie— be honest, did you want to break up?”
Changbin’s forehead creases. He looks so sad. Always Chan’s fault. “No, you know I didn’t want to, babe.”
“I still love you. I think I’ll love you until the day I die, Bin.” And then he empties his stomach into the toilet.
June eighth, Chan remembers exactly how it went, and exactly why it went;
Chan, burying himself in work, coming home late, shoving off touches, and becoming emotionally unavailable.
Changbin, trying so hard for so long to make it work. Months.
“I can’t do it anymore, Channie. You can’t bring yourself to let go for anyone— not even me. I’m the only one that’s been trying, so desperately, to break through, and you fucking shut down every time.”
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“I think we need to take some time apart. To figure some shit out.”
“Fine. If that’s really what you want.”
Chan was the one to let go. Because he was too stupid to give a damn about anything.
⚘
Chan wakes up warm. Warmer than he should be, or has been in a long time.
Changbin pressed to his back, warm, breath blowing lightly against his neck, one arm locked around Chan’s waist.
They drank too much last night. Or, Chan did. His head hurts, and everything hits him at once. What he did. What he said. He should know better at his big age— alcohol makes him emotional. It digs up all the worst parts of his feelings that he so desperately tries to hide the rest of the time.
His stomach lurches again. Regret. Longing. He doesn’t know.
Changbin is a heavy sleeper. Chan is able to remove his arm, slowly. Roll out from in front of him.
He throws up again. Brushes his teeth. He takes one look at Changbin, sleeping so peacefully in their bed, before running away. Because he’s a coward, and he’s scared.
To where, he doesn’t know. Down by the ocean, maybe. Minho sits at the breakfast table, ghastly dark circles beneath his eyes, nodding along as the twins yap at him. He doesn’t even have the energy to acknowledge Chan. Chan just goes, pushes through the back door and hurries down the stairs to the beach.
He just needs a second to breathe.
The beach is empty, and the waves are strong, and in the middle of the expanse of sand, Hyunjin is sitting with his back to Chan, hair braided, staring out at the ocean.
Chan can’t decide. He freezes. Before he moves, Hyunjin turns around, sees him, and the decision is made for him.
“Good morning,” Chan croaks, setting himself into the sand next to Hyunjin. He looks so put together, even after how drunk he was last night. His skin is glowy, and he’s already dressed.
“Hello,” Hyunjin smiles. “You feel okay this morning?”
“Eh,” Chan shrugs. He didn’t realize how dry his mouth was until Hyunjin hands him a still sealed water bottle. Tells him to drink. “I’ve been better.”
Hyunjin nods. He looks back out at the ocean, taking it all in.
Chan digs his feet into the sand. He didn’t put on shoes. Minho always says that skipping shoes is a good way to connect with the earth.
“You know, don’t you?” Chan clears his throat. He doesn’t look at Hyunjin.
“Yeah. I know. And I’ll be honest with you, Chan, I can’t keep it from Jeonginnie for much longer. If he doesn’t already know.”
“I know,” Chan nods. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I’m going to— figure it out, once we get home.”
Hyunjin hums, a bit of question seeping into his tone. Chan glances over, but Hyunjin looks just as calm. Completely composed. Blank faced.
The waves crash, and crash. Seagulls shout.
“Changbin loves you a lot, Chan,” Hyunjin says. “I’ll be real and tell you that I thought he was crazy. When he told me about everything. I thought— how could someone want to go back to that? But I just— didn’t get it, at the time.”
Chan’s throat hurts. The bile in his stomach is still unsettled. Churning. “What do you mean?”
Hyunjin’s head tips to the side, he takes a long, deep breath. Like he’s thinking before speaking. Chan appreciates it.
“Well, that was a while ago. Before I met Jeongin. I had been in bad relationships before, and never anything long term. I don’t think I understood the depths of emotion that love can bring,” Hyunjin pauses. “And I didn’t understand, first of all, how anyone could be with someone so long in the first place. I didn’t understand how complex it could be, or why someone would fight for it.”
“And now you do?”
“Now I do,” Hyunjin agrees. “I didn’t realize that anyone could love someone enough to want to be with them forever, I always gave up when things got hard. But now I get it.”
Chan is happy for Jeongin. Really, truly. He’s sure he’ll cry at his wedding, harder than ever before.
“And I know that Changbin loves you, so much. And I don’t think he’d ever agree to this weekend if he didn’t. Really,” Hyunjin sighs. “If he didn’t think something was still there. Or could be. He was always so hopeful that you two would be able to fix it, if you started working on yourself.”
A tear falls from Chan’s eye. He wipes it away, ignores the way his chest blooms from the inside out.
“I love him too. I’ve been working so hard to be someone that deserves him again, even if I didn’t know if I’d have a chance.”
Hyunjin smiles, he squints closed one eye in the sun, and lays a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “You always have a chance with Bin. You two built a family together. That shit is unshakable.”
Chan nods, he mirrors Hyunjin’s smile as well as he can through his fragile state. “Thank you, Hyunjin. I hope you were actually ready for the dads approval, or do you want me to tell Jeongin I don’t approve, so he can hold off on the ring?”
Head thrown back in a laugh, Hyunjin glows. “No, please. I'd be honored to be stuck with all of you forever. And I know Jeongin is the love of my life.”
“Well, I hope you’re ok with the flower girl and boy being set, because Kyujin’s been working hard to secure some contracts.”
“God,” Hyunjin shakes his head, amused. “She’s just as evil as Minho.”
“I know. I fucking know.”
⚘
The last lunch of the summer trip is always bittersweet. Everyone is tired, and a little sad that they have to go back to work soon, and that everyone likely won’t be in the same place at the same time for a while.
Changbin got up late, and he showered, and when Chan and Hyunjin came inside, he lit up, dragged Chan into his side like he was waiting for him.
Chan hasn’t had the guts to ask if he remembers last night. He’s soaking up the last bits of this that he can.
Wiping the corners of Gyuvin’s mouth where he’s eating messily, and letting Chaewon squeeze his finger and babble at him. Changbin’s hand floats between his thigh and his back, almost always touching him. Bittersweet.
They don’t talk while they pack, and when they hug everyone goodbye.
But then when Changbin goes to carry their bags to the car, Felix holds Chan behind. He grabs his elbow, and his face goes very serious, and very worried, and he says, “I hope you and Binnie figure out whatever is causing you trouble. We love you both so much, okay?”
Chan doesn’t know what to say to that. He just kisses Felix on the cheek and thanks him.
It’s just Changbin. It’s Changbin. But Chan has never been more antsy during a car ride in his life. He doesn’t want to speak up, in case he breaks whatever careful little thing they have. And he doesn’t want Changbin to stop casually touching him, like nothing is wrong at all.
Hoping, maybe. Maybe it’s worth it. That maybe tomorrow, Changbin will call him, and they’ll figure it out.
Maybe Chan will call first. Or, he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know. And they talk about everything, but nothing at all on the way home. About Changbin’s work, and his family, and how things have been going. Chan’s work, and Chan’s family. They laugh, when Chan talks about that guy at the grocery store they both hate, who’s just gotten pissier since Changbin has moved.
And then, before Chan can ask, Changbin says, “I’ll help you bring your things upstairs.”
“Okay.”
The apartment that was once theirs, and is now just Chan’s. That still has the couch arranged how Changbin likes it, and the art they picked out together on the walls.
Changbin touches the frame of one of the paintings, and Chan stares, trying to find the right words.
“Channie,” Changbin starts, just as Chan says, “Bin, I—”
“You go first,” Chan concedes, heart pounding in his chest.
Changbin sighs. He crosses his arms, steps a bit closer to Chan. “I need you to tell me what you want. Very honestly. And I need you to say all of it, so I know that you’ve really been working on… this.”
“Yeah,” Chan nods. He blinks too hard. “I— Well— first of all, I’m sorry. For everything. For a year ago, and for not calling, and not trying harder to keep you when I had you, and I’m sorry for not telling the kids, and for calling you last week, begging for help. I’m sorry for all of that.”
“Okay,” Changbin gets closer still. Within arms reach.
“And I meant what I said last night, even though I was drunk. I love you, I never stopped. I’ll love you forever and then some. It’s the only thing I’m one hundred percent sure of,” Chan refuses to look away from Changbin’s eyes. He needs Changbin to know how serious he is. “And I’ve been working on myself— not for you, but for me. Because I know that you might not give me another chance, and even if you don’t, I still need to do it for me. But at the same time, I want to be someone that deserves you, if you were ever willing to give it another try. And if not, that’s okay, I’m still going to be better. And I understand, but—”
“Channie,” Changbin cuts him off, he steps right into his space, arms winding around Chan’s neck.
Chan’s hands settle on his hips, where they belong. “Let me finish,” he whispers. “I just need you to know that I’m not working on it just for the purpose of winning you back. I’m doing it because I know you were right, and I need to be a better man for myself. And if I’m lucky enough for you to love me again, then I’ll never, ever let it go.”
“Channie,” Changbin’s eyes fall shut, his forehead meeting Chan’s. “I never stopped loving you, you idiot. You’re the love of my life. I was just waiting for you to realize that you deserve as much love as you give.”
“I understand. All of it. A lot better now. Even if I’m still dumb a lot of the time. I understand what I lost, and I understand that I’d do anything to get it back,” Chan’s fingers tighten on Changbin’s hips. “Say the word, Bin. Anything you want, I’ll do it for you.”
“Kiss me.”
So, Chan does.
He lets his hands drift back, pulling Changbin in by his waist, and Changbin’s fingers twist into his hair, and they meet in the middle. Desperate, and familiar, and so hungry for something they haven’t been able to have.
There’s nothing else but Changbin— and the way he takes the lead, begs access to Chan’s mouth, pulling him impossibly closer. Chan must be in heaven. He’s so in love.
“We can go,” Chan gasps, Changbin’s lips making their way down his jaw. “As slow as you want. I just— I don’t want to fuck anything up.”
“Channie,” Changbin nips the spot below his jaw that makes him go crazy. “I’ve been without you for a year. We can make the big decisions later. Right now I just want you.”
Chan nods, out of his head. “Yeah, okay.”
And Changbin is leading him to their bedroom, and their clothes are coming off in between. Pushing Chan onto the bed, towering over him, eyes dark with need.
“Do you know how hard it is to sleep next to you and not have you? You’re so beautiful, Chan. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”
Chan understands. More than Changbin could know. He’s the type to get addicted, or maybe he’s just a hopeless romantic. But, being with Changbin has always felt more like making love rather than fucking. Even since they were doing it just as friends, when they started.
It’s in the way Changbin touches him. Gently. And the way he kisses him. Slowly. Carefully. Like he’s savoring it instead of just simply enjoying it.
His hands traverse Chan’s stomach, and then drag down his thighs, pulling clothes away with them. Chan shivers. He sucks in a breath, reaching out to touch.
He never wants to stop touching Changbin. Not now that he’s started again.
“I love you. I’m sorry, Binnie. I’m sorry.”
“Hush,” Changbin murmurs, kissing him into the mattress, slow and careful— savoring. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Okay,” Chan nods, he’s already floating. In heaven. Just from Changbin looking at him— touching him.
It's been a while. Changbin knows. Chan told him so, but he would be able to tell anyway. The way Chan shudders, eyes rolling back in his head as he’s opened up. So, so gently. At just the right pace to get him acquainted again.
Still, Chan says it again, holding Changbin’s face in his hands, as he’s hovering over him, ready to sink home.
“It’s been a while.”
“I know, baby,” Changbin kisses the heel of his palm. “That’s okay. Just enjoy. I’ve got you.”
Chan trusts him, implicitly. More than anyone else.
And, in a way, it feels like everything falling back into place when Changbin moves, and they become one. Like the past year has been a silly mistake— a spinning top kicked off course for a moment before finding its balance.
Breath stolen from his lungs, and a heat, the slightest twist of pain, slowly consumed by the fire in his blood. It’s all there, and it’s all right.
Chan doesn’t know how he went without this, or how he thought he could do it forever. Heavy breaths and sweat, and their hands are tangled, pinned to either side of Chan’s head. And just before the peak, Changbin lays his lips on the underside of Chan’s jaw and says, “I love you, Channie.”
The very first time they had sex, Changbin rolled over afterwards, unstoppable grin on his face, and he said, “Wow,” in the most awe inspired way. Dizzy and euphoric, Chan repeated the same.
“Wow.”
“You taste like heaven,” Changbin returns, right onto his tongue. “Feel like it too.”
Starlight, clouds, sunshine, everything good and every mistake forgiven. They’ll figure it out. They will. They’re Chan and Changbin, or Changbin and Chan, and it’s just them at the end of the line.
Chan will do his best, because he knows what it’s like to be missing a piece of himself. That’s enough. It’s alright.
After he cleans them up, Changbin lays a kiss right over Chan’s steadily beating heart.
He says, “My lease is up soon.”
And Chan replies, with an unstoppable grin, “Stay the night.”
⚘
They tell the kids later on. Manage to get all of them on one phone call.
“Wow, you guys haven’t been together for the past year?” Minho’s tone is completely sarcastic.
“Well,” Chan looks at Changbin, nervously. “Yeah.”
“This is fucking stupid, guys,” Seungmin butts in. “Yeah, we all knew that. We’re not idiots. All of us knew, we just knew that it was temporary so we didn’t say anything.”
Chan gapes. “You—”
“Yes,” Seungmin interrupts again. “Every one of us. We know you both too well. But we’re glad you worked it out. Can we go now? Chaewon has a music class.”
“Seungmin!” Felix’s voice comes muffled over their end of the phone. Seungmin returning a, “What? I don’t care to sit around while they explain their failed divorce to us! I already did that with my own parents!”
“Okay, well,” Changbin clears his throat. “Uh. I guess. Thanks for believing in us?”
“Never doubted you!” Jisung chirps happily.
“Hey, is everyone going to come to our engagement party next month?” Jeongin jumps in. “It’s on the eighth, so, like, I’ll be offended if the answer is no.”
A chorus of shrieks and surprised screams rings out from the phone, attention successfully stolen from Chan and Changbin’s drama. Jeongin has always been the type to steal the show.
“He gets that from you,” Chan mutters to Changbin, knocking their feet together.
“He does not,” Changbin scoffs. “You’re the dramatic one of the two of us.”
“Dads?” Jeongin’s voice comes louder again. “What about you two? Will you come?”
“We wouldn’t miss it, Jeonginnie,” Chan and Changbin say at once. Completely in sync, just like they’re meant to be.