CHAPTER FOUR
Seunghyun had arrived at the latest of Ji’s photo shoots, coffee in hand and stood at the back of the room. Often, he would sneak in well after the shoot has started and would do his utmost to keep out of the way, stay as quiet as a church mouse. He would watch, enthralled, as Jiyong posed and pouted, posturing his lithe body like he was making love to the world beyond the lenses trained on him. Seunghyun let his eyes glide intricate paths over him, trying to capture every minute detail to commit it all to memory.
Somehow, Jiyong always seemed to know he was there like a bizarre sixth sense. It was as though he could feel the weight of his stare, each lingering gaze, but Jiyong would continue working as if he wasn’t there at all. Today, the atmosphere was different. It seemed as though Jiyong resented him being there altogether. There was something in the way Jiyong regarded him whenever he caught his eye. Agitated. Cold.
Seunghyun knew then that the jig was decidedly up.
*
After Seunghyun registered what had just happened and he was able to convince his limbs to move, he detached himself from the wall. He was tempted to check if he’d left a physical imprint behind from the force of Jiyong pinning him against it. He could still feel his physical presence against him, his memory imprinted with the image of Jiyong stalking toward him, the delirium-inducing heat radiating from him as he delivered his message. Seunghyun closed his eyes and sighed.
As a matter of course, he checked his watch. It was 5:47. Jiyong’s message demanded that he be at his apartment at 6:30 sharp. Don’t be fucking late, it said. Seunghyun smirked in spite of himself. Jiyong knew him all too well. Not 6:38, not 6:53 but 6:30 on the dot. He folded the note again and stuffed it back into his pocket and walked out into the bustling city.
Rain was on the way again. Seunghyun needed to clear his head and decided to walk the few short blocks to Jiyong’s apartment.
*
Seunghyun brought his hood up over his head; cap pulled down low, zipper pulled up as far as it could go his hands stuffed into his pockets. He kept his head down to avoid being recognised, not that it mattered. People were running to and fro to avoid the rain so paid him no mind, their own need to keep dry driving them out of the drizzle while he maintained his pace.
The rain was a blessed relief after the stifling heat of the day and he took small pleasure walking beneath the swollen grey clouds as they lazily divested themselves of their aqueous cargo. It gave him pause; time to reflect on things between himself and Jiyong as he meandered through the streets on his way to Jiyong’s.
To Jiyong, he corrected himself.
The reason he was going to Jiyong’s – We need to talk – resounded in his mind like a tolling bell. This was the one confrontation he’d been actively avoiding. Avoiding it because he didn’t know how he was going to maintain any kind of composure once Jiyong laughed in his face for being such a pathetic fucking loser and told him exactly all the ways in which he could fuck off. He could almost taste his contempt and repulsion.
Seunghyun sighed. The Sword of Damocles hung above him and Jiyong was about to cut the thread. Seunghyun felt like he needed time to work through what everything meant and how he was going to survive when the inevitable blow was dealt. That day was here and time was up.
Jiyong had made that much clear.
*
By the time Seunghyun had arrived at Jiyong’s apartment, the gentle rain had soaked him through. The route was seemingly etched into his muscle memory; he’d barely needed to look up the entire way. He checked his watch once he’d made it through all the security checks, caught the elevator to his floor and finally stood at Jiyong’s door. It was 6:23, a few minutes to spare. The thought of waiting out the extra time made his stomach lurch and set the razor-winged butterflies angrily working against his insides again. He had to face this no matter how much it was going to hurt.
Seunghyun drew in a stabilising breath, releasing it in a slow exhale as his eyes closed. His hand moved of it’s own volition; his body seemed to tacitly understand the mission he was preparing for. He knocked four times, stood back and waited. Anticipation coiled and flexed constricting his lungs with each breath.
Endless seconds passed before the door swung open. Jiyong stared at him wide-eyed. First, he was early. Seunghyun was rarely early, let alone on time to anything. Ever. Second, he was completely saturated.
“Aish, you’re soaked!”
Seunghyun cast a glance down and looked up at Jiyong from under the wet hood plastered against his cap, which dripped onto the floor in front of him.
“Yep,” he offered rocking on the balls of his feet, an apologetic smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The roiling tension eased momentarily.
Jiyong rolled his eyes and motioned for him to come inside.
“Get in here and dry off,” he insisted, sounding every inch the exasperated leader. “Idiot!” he muttered under his breath, sighing.
Seunghyun trudged the few steps inside and Jiyong closed the door behind him. He toed off his wet shoes at the door as Jiyong disappeared down the hallway, returning with a towel. He tossed it at Seunghyun to dry himself so he wouldn’t drip all over his furniture.
Seunghyun removed the soggy hoodie and cap, which Jiyong dutifully placed in the dryer. He returned to Seunghyun standing in single layers, the towel draped over his head like an opaque shroud. The sight of him drenched through, his deep chocolate eyes conveying a silent apology for dripping water all over his floor made Jiyong’s heart ache.
Jiyong knew he had been putting this off for too long. He couldn’t fall back into the habit of denial and detachment that had been his life for so long now, he wasn’t sure he knew how else to be. He would push forward and get through this.
He steeled himself against the burning desire to reach out and hold the object of his destructive longing, instead asking Seunghyun to follow him into the kitchen. Seunghyun looked up from under the towel and dutifully followed his leader down the hallway, letting the towel slip from his dishevelled hair to sit across his shoulders. Jiyong didn’t turn to face him once they’d reached the kitchen.
“Sit,” Jiyong demanded as he pointed at a chair at the kitchen table.
Seunghyun silently did as he was asked slipping the towel over the back of the chair. Jiyong sat across from Seunghyun, hands clenched together on the table in front of him, his face unreadable; eyes stony in their appraisal of him. It made Seunghyun’s blood run cold and he swallowed hard, his fingers worrying the hem of his shirt as he waited. His anxiety increased with each passing second as the pregnant silence stretched on.
“Ji—“ he started, the deep timbre of his voice surprisingly unobtrusive in the overwrought silence. Jiyong cast Seunghyun a withering glare and merely shook his head effectively cutting him off. Seunghyun slumped back in his chair, eyes downcast, and his mouth forming a hard line.
Living in a state of fluctuating ambiguity did not sit well with Jiyong. He needed answers and he was going to get them, no matter how long it took. Seunghyun was not leaving until he knew definitively where he stood. In devastation or bliss, at least he would know. He knew if he let Seunghyun speak first, his resolve would falter and he couldn’t let that happen.
Jiyong needed to start somewhere, his latent fury finally finding its voice and the words he’d been longing to say shot out of him in an adrenalised torrent:
“Why did you kiss me in that backroom that first time, looking at me the way you did, asking me not to forget then conveniently acting like it never happened? Why have you been turning up to where I’m working for fuck sakes to observe from the sidelines and continue to act like it’s nothing?”
Jiyong pushed his chair back and began pacing in the small space in front of Seunghyun, his eyes never leaving him, before continuing.
“You started this, Seunghyun. You started something and you only wanted it when it suited you. It was only ever on your terms. Always when we were under the influence, so you wouldn’t have to face the reality of your actions. You’d have an easy out.”
Jiyong continued to pace as he laid his cards on the table, Seunghyun watching him, his eyes widening, unable to respond to Jiyong’s charges. Jiyong stopped pacing and faced him dead on, his eyes boring into him. Seunghyun merely stared back at him in mute shock.
“You poisoned me, Seunghyun. Infected me with this heartache because all I wanted after the first time was more. And there was more… until there wasn’t. You left me when I opened up to you. Walked out on me without a single, solitary fucking word!” Jiyong’s voice trembled on the last.
“You did this and you left me,” he said, all traces of malice and anger evaporated from his voice leaving quiet despair in its wake as his mute tears fell.
Seunghyun still couldn’t find the words. Jiyong was admitting something he couldn’t comprehend. He had prepared himself for the absolute worst but had never anticipated that this would be what Jiyong would say. His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly as he watched the tears stream down Jiyong’s face. He watched helplessly as the anger and pain spilled out of his beautiful leader.
Seunghyun’s heart sunk at seeing Jiyong’s tears, his own tears pricking at the back of his eyes. Jiyong’s words hit home like heat-seeking missiles, each one exploding rapid-fire against his own beleaguered heart.
Seunghyun couldn’t look at Jiyong, hot tears stinging his eyes as he spoke, his voice steady and calm.
“Ji, I never wanted to leave you. I wanted you more than you could possibly know. I didn’t believe it was real. Couldn’t believe that you would ever want me. Not you. Not like that, never in the way I needed you most. That would be too much to hope for.”
Jiyong was incredulous. He couldn’t be hearing this right. Couldn’t be. His beloved Seunghyun could not be telling him—? He needed to be sure.
“The night you left me in Kangnam. You remember? That night… you walked out on me. No words, not so much as a backward glance. What the fuck was that, Seunghyun?” Jiyong felt the acrid sting of bile rising along with the bitter memory. He choked back a sob as the hurt resurfaced, the way it always did.
“Of course I remember, Ji. I thought you were playing with me. Playing with me the way you do with everyone.”
It was true that Jiyong was a notorious flirt, but he would never do that to him. Not Seunghyun. Jiyong covered his mouth with his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. It hurt more knowing that Seunghyun thought he was merely playing him, that he believed his words that night were anything but sincere.
Seunghyun continued, his expression quiet, eyes still downcast.
“Kangnam was another level of heartbreak. I wanted you so badly and I knew you had to be fucking with me when you said you needed me. It was the cruellest twist of the knife and it fucking destroyed me, so of course I left. I wasn’t going to wait around for the other shoe to drop.”
Seunghyun’s words were like a physical blow to Jiyong. Christ. Jiyong choked out a quiet “No-no-no-no-no-no,” he felt sick at what he was hearing, he squeezed his eyes closed to hold back the dam that was threatening to burst out of him. How could he have been so blind?
“And I started this because I—“ Seunghyun swallowed hard and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him, training his eyes on the floor in front of him. He closed his eyes and his brimming tears spilled over. He cleared his throat before starting again.
“I waited until we were stoned or drunk or effected by some substance or other because it was the only way I could build up the courage to touch you, to draw you near, to hold you. And that first time, the very first time,” a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the bitter sweet memory of the first time he kissed Jiyong washing over him.
He drew in a shaky breath before continuing: “That first time, when you didn’t push me away or treat me like a freak for kissing you, I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t talk to you about it because it still didn’t seem real, it was a fevered dream, I don’t know. The truth is, I was so scared, Jiyong. Fucking terrified to the core that you’d think I was ridiculous for reading too much into it. So I backed off, played it off like it was nothing because I believed that’s what you wanted. You could never have wanted any of this,” he sighed heavily, breath catching, as though the weight of his words were too much to bear.
“I pushed you away so I wouldn’t have to deal with you rejecting me.”
Seunghyun’s voice was almost an inaudible whisper, his eyes downcast as tears tracked down his face silently. Jiyong felt like his jackhammering heart was going to burst through his ribcage. All of his pent up frustration bled out of him at Seunghyun’s quiet, heartbreaking confession.
He didn’t know. Neither of them did. They’d borne the burden of shared and separate sorrow, each with their own cross to bear, each pulling in opposite directions.
“That… and the fact that you kept disappearing. You wouldn’t come back to the dorms, wouldn’t face me. You’d avoid being in the same room alone with me. Most times you wouldn’t even look at me, Ji. What was I supposed to think?”
When Seunghyun had finished, Jiyong’s hand still covered his mouth as he stood staring at Seunghyun. He was still in denial and shock at what Seunghyun was telling him. He closed his eyes, wiping at them with the back of his hands and exhaled long and slow.
“Fuck. How did you not get it? How did you not understand?” Jiyong’s voice was quiet and resigned not accusatory. He was angry with himself, how did he not see it?
Jiyong breathed a quiet “Fuck this” as he moved in pushing Seunghyun back in his chair. Seunghyun’s eyes widened as Jiyong straddled his lap, eyes searching his as he cupped Seunghyun’s face. Jiyong pressed his forehead against Seunghyun’s, huffing out a breath against his cheek before spoke again.
“My sweet Seunghyun, you beautiful idiot. How did you not understand this?”
The last word was a barely spoken murmur as Jiyong fused his lips to Seunghyun’s and he melted into Jiyong’s kiss. Their lips began moving slowly against each others, taking in the bottom lip, then the top, then back again, their mouths melding and reforming with each subtle, unhurried movement.
The kiss was undemanding and deliberate as Seunghyun slid his arms in around Jiyong’s waist to pull him in closer, his hands tracing delicate patterns along his spine as their tongues tentatively searched out the others. Small whimpers broke from each of them, the languorous pace an amends for the heartache and sorrow unintentionally inflicted against the other.
I’m sorry.
Please forgive me.
I need you.
Jiyong broke the kiss and spoke against Seunghyun’s lips: “Do you understand now, hyung?” Seunghyun offered a small, almost imperceptible nod as he flicked his tongue against his lips. Jiyong moved back to gaze into his liquid eyes, hands cupping his face again. Both men’s eyes were red-rimmed and shining with the tears they had shed. Jiyong traced his thumbs along Seunghyun’s cheekbones.
“I love you, Seunghyun. I’ve always loved you, unreservedly and without exception. Please say you understand. I don’t think my heart could take it if you didn’t,” Jiyong pleaded softly, tears continuing their silent path down his face as he leant in to gently brush his mouth against Seunghyun’s again.
Seunghyun gently pulled back from Jiyong and looked up into his honey-brown eyes. He ran a finger along his brow; much like he had the first time he kissed Jiyong. He gently wiped at the wet trails on his cheeks with his thumbs, the sight of his beautiful tear-stained love made his overflowing heart clench. A small smile spread across Seunghyun’s lips, lighting his eyes.
“Yes. Say it again,” Seunghyun’s raspy voice sent pulses of electricity skating across the surface of Jiyong’s skin.
“Good,” Jiyong replied as he leant down to kiss Seunghyun again smiling against him.
“Iloveyou-iloveyou-iloveyou-iloveyou-iloveyou,” Jiyong punctuated his words with rapid, petal-soft kisses between each repetition.
Seunghyun smiled against him, something wild and unfathomable bloomed in his ribcage sending pulsating shockwaves coursing through him, his pulse fluttering each time Jiyong told him he loved him.
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing you say that,” breathless, he swallowed before looking up into Jiyong’s eyes again.
“I love you so much, Ji.” Seunghyun stroked the side of his face as he spoke making Jiyong feel as though was made of the most delicate porcelain.
Jiyong felt like he was going to explode with unbridled joy. He claimed his lips again unable to contain the overwhelming emotion swirling through him. Seunghyun loved him and it was more than he could ever need.
They kissed until their jaws ached, their lips were tender and kiss-swollen, their breath coming in laboured gasps burning in their lungs and neither could remember which way was up, what time meant.
Jiyong stood on unsteady legs, clasping Seunghyun’s hands and Seunghyun immediately missed his slight heft against him.
“So, what happens now?” Seunghyun asked, breathing slightly laboured.
“We’ve already lost too much time not seeing what was right in front of us. Besides,” Jiyong swooped in and flicked his tongue teasingly against Seunghyun’s mouth, his hands resting on Seunghyun’s knees, eyes level; “I hope you weren’t planning on being anywhere that isn’t my bed for at least the next few weeks.” Jiyong sucked his bottom lip in behind his teeth, eyes wide and innocent playing up his coquettishness.
“Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you,” Seunghyun offered nonchalantly and smirked, earning him a hard slap against his thigh for his efforts. He pulled Jiyong down into his lap again, kissing him more intensely, tongue laying claim to Jiyong’s mouth as he drew him in igniting his passion. Jiyong ground his hips down against Seunghyun and whimpered into his mouth knowing full well that it would get a reaction.
Seunghyun stood, holding Jiyong in place gripping his waist as he wrapped his legs around him; lips still fused with Jiyong’s, neither willing to relinquish the others. Seunghyun took a few steps before stopping, pulling back and looking askance at Jiyong.
“Which way to the bedroom again?” he husked before delicately trailing kisses along the soft flesh of his throat. A wanton moan broke from Jiyong before he stretched an arm behind him pointing the way.
RantyPants! 