Chapter Text
Jaeyoung used to joke that Minkyun was like gravity.
“You don’t see it coming,” he once said, curled beside him on the old couch in Minkyun’s cramped studio apartment, “but then, before you realize it, it’s pulling you with such strength that you can’t go anywhere else.”
Minkyun had laughed at him, lightly pushing Jaeyoung off the couch. However, a wide grin had stuck to his features, shiny eyes looking at him in a way that only made Jaeyoung more certain of his affirmation.
It was a joke, but he feared it held more truth than he dared admit. Not because Minkyun had latched onto him, or because he couldn’t get rid of the other; but because there was no other place Jaeyoung would rather be than at his side.
Outside, rain fell in gentle waves against the apartment’s big windows, muffling the usual city noises. It echoed peacefully inside the room, mixing with the soft indie music playing from the speakers. Jaeyoung’s sweatshirt was draped over the second-hand chair right beside it, on the verge of falling to the floor; and his charger was perpetually tangled with Minkyun’s own, almost a reflection of their own bodies.
The spreadsheets they had been working on were long forgotten, computer screens already asleep due to lack of activity. Finals were only a couple of weeks away, and the stress had already started infiltrating every waking moment. The looming anxiety of ‘what-ifs’, of the end of something and the start of another, of the unknown—all of it was only tolerable when they were with each other.
In a year, they had gone from mere acquaintances to Jaeyoung having his own toothbrush, towels and slippers in Minkyun’s apartment. Even his textbooks had claimed their own space, a few spread on top of Minkyun’s desk, a few others carefully tucked into a bookshelf. Study sessions had slowly shifted into talks of everything and anything, stretching into the night, turning into morning coffees. Jaeyoung would lean on Minkyun’s shoulder when he got sleepy, and Minkyun would steal his fries and smile like the world was theirs, like they could live in their little bubble of happiness forever. Their lives became a tangle of laughter, support and almosts, could-bes.
Truly, Jaeyoung couldn’t imagine a place he’d rather be. And that scared the hell out of him.
—
The train hummed beneath him, rocking gently against the tracks as his final destination loomed closer. Minkyun stared at his phone, his screen still lit with the most recent email in his inbox.
Subject: Rescheduled Interview
Dear Park Minkyun,Due to scheduling conflicts, your interview has been postponed to a later time. We’ll be expecting you tomorrow, on the 25th, at 10:00 a.m. We apologise for the inconvenience.
Best Regards,
MT Ent; RH Team.
He sighed, looking up to stare at the rolling hills and green fields through the dense glass windows. The disappointment was mild, since he would still have his interview anyway; he just wished he had gotten the email before he was already on his way to Seoul. If being petty, he could also blame it on Changyun, who had advised him to board the 8 a.m. train for an afternoon interview; “Just in case,” he’d said, “you never know if there’ll be any delays.”
Having boarded the bullet train, he was expected to arrive around noon, leaving him with nearly a full day to fill before his interview. He didn’t carry any luggage other than his backpack, in which he had fortunately packed a change of clothes. He couldn’t be more grateful to his past self for deciding to bring another outfit in case something happened during the trip to Seoul—he wouldn’t want to step into an interview with a ruined outfit, no matter how laid-back the agency he’s signing with is.
Slightly annoyed by the change of plans, he once again unlocked his phone, pulling up his best friend’s contact. Immediately after he clicked on the call button, Changyun’s face filled the screen, far too quickly and far too close to the camera for someone who was supposed to be at work.
“How’s your trip going? Are you in Seoul yet?”
“Not great and not yet,” he replied, trying to keep his voice down despite the loudness of the one coming from his earphones. “Do you really have to work all day? My interview got postponed.”
Changyun got even closer to the screen, if possible. “Postponed? To when?”
“Tomorrow morning. What am I supposed to do until then? And I’ll have to book a hotel.”
“Okay, first of all—” Changyun was looking at him like he was a living disappointment, “—you’re obviously staying at mine for the night, don’t be stupid. Second of all, I don’t know, you can just walk around Seoul for the day? Take it as an opportunity to recall memories from our uni days.”
Minkyun hummed, leaning back in the train seat. The view outside had started to shift to a more urban one, indicating the growing proximity to his destination. “Maybe I could do that… Does Fuse still exist?”
Changyun leaned back for the first time since the beginning of their call, a smile pulling at the edge of his lips. “Hmm, I heard they have a new drinks menu.”
—
The outside of the shop had barely changed over the years, the dark green door still offering a big contrast to the reflective glass front and brick walls. Only after standing in front of it for a while, shifting from foot to foot, did Minkyun have the courage to push the door open.
The familiar bell chime welcomed him into the cozy establishment, reminding him of a time when he’d hear it almost daily. Everything looked the same. The walls had been repainted, but the furniture remained, mismatched, a far cry from the aesthetic coffee shops trending on social media. The record player in the corner playing slow, soft tunes, the chalkboard behind the barista with the handwritten menu, the cozy yellow lights…it was still home.
Minkyun walked up to the counter, ordering his usual yuzu americano without bothering to check the new menu Changyun had mentioned.
The barista glanced up at him, smiling. “Your face is familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Minkyun shrugged, “I used to practically live here a few years ago, though I haven't been back in a while.”
The man nodded, handing him his order. “Enjoy your drink.”
Minkyun thanked him and wandered towards the back, to the corner table he used to love, now empty. He ran his fingers over the scratched wood of the tabletop, as if absorbing old memories through his fingertips. He sat down, sipping on the comfort drink he hadn’t tasted in too long.
Lunch rush hour had passed, and only a few students stayed behind with their computers and notes, evoking a deep feeling of nostalgia in him. It was when he was starting to get lost in memories that the bell chimed again, catching him mid-sip. He looked up as if on instinct, not conscious of it until his eyes landed on the person walking up to the counter.
At first, he didn’t quite believe it.
And yet there he was—hair longer, shoulders wider—but definitely him.
Minkyun froze. He knew he was staring, but there was nothing else he could do. His limbs refused to move, stuck in place the same way his heart was still stuck on that same person. He watched as the barista handed him his drink, as he turned around to look for the perfect spot to sit down and enjoy it. And then their eyes met.
There was a breath, a flicker of disbelief, seconds in which Jaeyoung seemed to be questioning everything, just like Minkyun had. Then, he moved, walking towards him in large, slightly breathless strides, as if he couldn’t get to him fast enough.
Minkyun stood, stepping aside so there would be no obstacles, no table that could come between them. He barely registered Jaeyoung putting down his drink on the tabletop before he was engulfed in a hug, one he immediately reciprocated. It had been so long, too long. Minkyun had mistakenly thought he’d be okay with never seeing him again, as long as he knew he was doing alright. That moment, however, showed him just how foolish he was.
Jaeyoung was the first one to step back. “Minkyun, oh my god.”
“Hi,” he spoke, beaming, heart thudding a little too hard, “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Jaeyoung mirrored his smile, a little incredulous, still catching up with what was in front of him. “Neither did I. Wow, how long has it been?”
“Too long.”
They stared at each other for a moment longer before Minkyun made a move to sit back down, gesturing for Jaeyoung to do the same. “Wanna sit?”
Jaeyoung nodded, taking the seat in front of him. It felt so familiar, being together under that very roof, yet so much time had passed and so much had changed. Still, some things would always remain the same.
“You still drink that weird citrus americano?”
Minkyun lifted an eyebrow, “Still judge me for it?”
Jaeyoung laughed, the laugh Minkyun had missed like crazy, much clearer than the one echoing in his dreams from time to time. He couldn’t help but laugh back, giving way to the permanent smiles on their faces. He would have to thank the agency for rescheduling his interview.
“So,” Jaeyoung started, fingers wrapped around his cup, “what brings you here?”
Minkyun glanced down at his drink, swirling the melting ice with his straw. “An interview. For a composer position.”
“A composer?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I know it sounds out of nowhere. I was in marketing for a while, but I’ve been writing music on the side for years now. I decided it was time to actually try, you know? Take the leap.”
“That’s amazing, Minkyun.” Jaeyoung’s smile softened. “I’m really glad. You were always passionate about music.”
“You remember that?”
“Of course I do.”
Minkyun leaned forward a little. “What about you? What are you doing here?”
Jaeyoung lightly shrugged. “I still come here often, actually. It helps that it’s near my school. I teach primary now.”
“Teacher Jaeyoung.” Minkyun tested the words, letting them roll off his tongue with a fond lilt. “They must love you.”
“They do. I think,” he said, leaning back as shyness caught up to him. “I get new drawings every week, so I must be doing something right.”
Minkyun felt his chest grow with fondness too big to hold. Having Jaeyoung in front of him still felt surreal, as if everything was just a dream he dreaded waking up from. Years before, he’d never allowed himself to properly address his own feelings, too scared of drowning in thoughts that would leave him defenseless, that would challenge the friendship he cherished most. But now, maybe because he had nothing to lose, or maybe because it was just time doing what time does, peeling back layers and leaving only truth behind—he wanted to let himself simply feel.
“Of course they love you, who wouldn’t?”
Jaeyoung’s eyes joined his smile then, laughter dancing in them. There was a pause, a look that lingered between them a little too long before he replied, “You haven’t changed at all. Except maybe your hair is a bit cooler now.”
“Maybe?” Minkyun feigned offense. “This is at least a level three glow up.”
Jaeyoung snorted into his drink, eyes crinkling, shoulders shaking. The sight sent Minkyun tumbling back to their university days, to long evenings at that very coffee shop where study sessions turned into joking around, laughter so loud it echoed across the nearly-empty place. Minkyun would make some dumb joke, fully aware of how unfunny it was, and Jaeyoung would try to stay serious, only to lose it and break into laughter anyway.
“You’re the same too,” Minkyun added, a fond smile pulling at his lips. “Still laugh like that. Still look unfairly cool.”
Jaeyoung lifted an eyebrow, amusement written across his face. “Is that a compliment, or are you trying to make me blush?”
Minkyun tilted his head. “Can’t it be both?”
Jaeyoung didn’t answer, instead taking a sip of his coffee, smiling against the rim of the cup. They fell into a peaceful, easy silence, still as comfortable as Minkyun remembered. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting shadows across the room as strangers walked by outside, rushing towards their destination.
Minkyun allowed himself a moment of indulgence, a moment to trace the contours of Jaeyoung’s smile, to consider the way his eyes lingered on him just a beat too long, to admire the warmth that seemed to fill the space between them. Was it foolish of him to think of it as a sign that whatever he still felt could be reciprocated?
The light had dimmed by the time Jaeyoung glanced down at his watch, a small frown tugging at his lips. Time had passed too quickly, from early to late afternoon, both of them too distracted to realize it. “I have to go. I have a meeting in half an hour.”
Minkyun nodded. “Don’t let me keep you.” Then, more softly, dimples following his smile, “I’m really glad I got to see you today.”
Jaeyoung stood slowly, reluctantly gathering his things. His expression betrayed him, letting it be known that he didn’t want to leave. “Me too. Thank you for today.”
Just as Minkyun thought he was about to turn and go, Jaeyoung hesitated. His eyes flicked from the floor to his face and back again, like he was weighing something fragile in his hands.
“You know…” he started, “There’s a really good barbecue place downtown.”
Minkyun tilted his head, curious. Jaeyoung’s tone had shifted, hesitant, cautious. It was as if he was afraid Minkyun would tell him he was just a figment of his imagination, that them meeting again had been nothing but a dream.
“I was wondering…if you don’t have plans, of course, if you do that’s okay—”
“I’d love to.” Minkyun cut him off, trying to control the beam spreading across his face, but failing spectacularly. He reached for his phone and pushed it across the table. “Do you mind if I get your number again? I don’t know if I still have the right one.”
Jaeyoung blinked, clearly not expecting such an easy, certain answer. Gone was the hesitation of mere seconds ago, replaced by a smile, wide and genuine. “Of course.”
—
Jaeyoung couldn’t fathom there would be any universe where he and Minkyun wouldn’t be friends.
Their relationship wasn’t perfect, there had been plenty of awkwardness in the beginning, countless fights, and moments when they couldn't even stand each other. And yet, Jaeyoung was certain that every single version of himself would always be irrevocably drawn to Minkyun. Like a moth drawn to a flame.
Jaeyoung remembered the last night before he left as clearly as water.
He had sat cross-legged on the floor next to Minkyun’s bed, silently watching him as he finished packing any leftover belongings. It was late, well past midnight. The place had felt too empty, too void of life despite the two men inside and the tv playing in the background. Shelves were naked of the books that had once filled them, floors bare without the rugs that had covered them, and drawers sat open, emptied of the trinkets and clutter that had gathered over the years. Picture frames, of them, of Minkyun’s family, were still on top of the dresser, as if packing them would make it too real.
“You’ll do great,” he ended up saying, unable to ignore the way anxiety clung to Minkyun’s every movement. “It’s a great opportunity.”
Minkyun dropped the coat he’d been trying to fold into his luggage, a loud sigh filling the room. “I know. Everyone says that.” He then turned towards Jaeyoung, looking smaller, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen him. “But what if I don’t? What if it doesn’t work out and I’m stuck on the other side of the country, away from my loved ones…away from the person who always has my back?”
Jaeyoung didn’t reply right away. Instead, he opened up his arms in silent invitation.
Minkyun didn’t hesitate; He slumped down to the floor, throwing himself into the embrace, seeking comfort. It was slightly awkward, Jaeyoung’s broad frame tucked into the corner between the bed and the wall, while Minkyun’s long limbs tangled around him like a clingy cat.
“I’ll always have your back,” he said softly. “ I’ll go to Busan if you ever need me to.”
Minkyun rolled his eyes, though he didn’t pull away. “Don’t just say that to make me feel better. You’ll be very busy too.”
“So I’m not allowed to visit you?”
“Maybe someday,” he replied, quieter then. “But we should learn to live without each other too; Even if it hurts.”
Jaeyoung tightened his hold, pressing his cheek against Minkyun’s hair. “Why do we have to?”
Minkyun didn’t answer.
Silence filled the space around them, not heavy, but hollow—like the apartment itself. It was as if they could still see the memories they had lived in there, though they shimmered faintly, reflections on glass that glowed softly, yet were out of reach.
Without a word, Minkyun shifted slightly, relaxing further into the embrace, as if giving up the last bit of tension he’d been holding.
Jaeyoung didn’t press him for more. He held on, anchoring himself in the way Minkyun’s arms wrapped around him, the way his cheek pressed against his chest, the warmth between them that he feared would disappear without warning. He tried to memorise it, to memorise him.
“This is not a goodbye, right?”
He could feel Minkyun lightly shake his head. “It’s not. I promise.”
And maybe he meant it. Maybe they both did.
—
The barbecue place was hidden between two buildings, its flickering neon sign buzzing quietly above the entrance. Minkyun had first spotted it due to the red plastic stools lining the streetside, a few patrons already enjoying a nice dinner under the night breeze.
The smell hit him once he got closer, charcoal smoke curling into the night air as it escaped through the open entryway. It was quite small, even for a barbecue spot in the middle of Seoul, with only a few tables inside, a few others standing in that middle ground between the inside and the outside of the restaurant. Despite the humble size of it, it was filled with all kinds of patrons, huddling close together in order to enjoy the delicious meal.
His eyes looked for Jaeyoung as soon as he got close enough, finding him seated at a low table near the back. His focus was on the waiter, and Minkyun took that opportunity to properly look at him, even if from a distance. Despite the few years they hadn’t seen each other, the shape of him was the same—broad shoulders hunched forward as he leaned to talk to the waiter, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, one hand casually resting on the edge of the table, a couple of rings shining in the artificial light.
Minkyun stepped in, ducking slightly beneath the low doorframe. It was then that Jaeyoung noticed him, smile growing as he called him over with a wave.
“Did you get here alright?”
Minkyun nodded as he sat down, getting closer to the table to avoid hitting their neighboring customers. “Didn’t think it’d be this close to our uni.”
Jaeyoung grinned. “I found it randomly once while walking around. I’m glad I have the opportunity to bring you here.”
Minkyun tilted his head, a teasing smirk growing on his lips. “What, to finally prove your grilling skills?”
“Excuse you, I’ve always been a good cook. You’re the one who almost set your apartment on fire.”
Minkyun chuckled, “You never complained when I cooked back then.”
“That’s because—” Jaeyoung hesitated, words dying down in his throat and heat flowing up his cheeks. He sighed, putting the meat he’d ordered in advance on the grill.
Minkyun watched him, curious about the words he’d been about to say, but too happy to be there to bother questioning him on it. Instead, he changed the subject, asking about Jaeyoung’s job, about the part of his life he’d missed while being away.
Jaeyoung, clearly grateful for the redirection, leaned into the new topic with a fond smile. “To be honest, it’s exhausting,” he admitted, flipping the meat on the grill. “But I love it. Turns out being a fun teacher is actually a real full-time job.”
Minkyun grinned. “I’m happy to know you’re doing what you love, really. You deserve it more than anyone.”
“What about you? Why give up on your marketing career to be a full-time composer?”
“You know it, I dream too big to stay put. I sold a song that did better than expected. Figured…why not take the risk? If I get the job tomorrow it can bring me closer to my family. To Changyun. To…”
“Me?”
Minkyun sighed, thoughtful. “I should’ve called more often.”
Jaeyoung picked up a few pieces of meat from the grill and placed them on Minkyun’s plate first. “You were busy. So was I,” his tone was calm, warm. “I never held it against you, Minkyun.”
“I know. But maybe if I had…maybe I would’ve known when you started teaching. And maybe you would’ve been the first to hear the songs I compose.”
Jaeyoung paused, tongs hovering over the grill. His expression softened, the corners of his mouth tilting up.
“I would’ve liked that, hearing your music before anyone else.”
The sizzling of the meat filled the momentary silence, coupled with the chattering noise of the neighboring patrons. Minkyun took that opportunity to make a lettuce wrap, humming in delight as the flavors burst in his mouth.
Jaeyoung chuckled. “Good, right?”
Minkyun leaned forward after chewing, propping his chin in his hand, eyes trained on Jaeyoung. “You were always the first person I wanted to share things with,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to adapt. Everytime we called made missing you unbearable.”
“I missed you too,” Jaeyoung confessed. His tone then changed into a teasing one. “Maybe more than you missed me, taking it as you didn’t call much and didn’t pick up my calls.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
Jaeyoung smiled without looking up from the grill. “I’ll have to make you pay for the wasted time.”
Minkyun gasped, feigning offense. “I thought you said you didn’t hold it against me!”
“I lied.”
“Wow,” Minkyun chuckled. He grabbed a piece of meat from the grill, placing it on Jaeyoung’s bowl. “You did change.”
“I’ve always been like this. You loved it.”
Minkyun snorted. “I loved everything about you.”
He spoke before he could stop himself, feeling himself drown in regret a mere second after. His eyes widened as he realised what he'd said, reaching for his drink to try and hide his burning cheeks.
Jaeyoung blinked. He didn’t look away, didn’t joke or deflect. Instead, he reached across the table and mirrored his earlier gesture, placing a piece of grilled meat on Minkyun’s plate.
“Me too. I think I still do.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, shy smiles being passed in between bites. Minkyun tried not to think about the future, about the possibility of them doing this more often if he moved there. He didn't want to create too many expectations.
The barbecue place emptied out slowly around them, the clatter of dishes and quiet laughter dwindling until they were one of the last pairs still seated. The grill had long since gone cold, leaving only a few stray bits of char and the lingering scent of smoke clinging to their clothes.
Minkyun stepped outside first, holding the door for Jaeyoung as the cool night air wrapped around them. The pavement glistened faintly under the streetlights, orange and yellow hues casting shadows as they walked.
They didn’t speak at first, falling into step with the familiar ease both were used to, of two people who had walked those streets together years ago. The weather wasn’t too cold despite the late hour, as if offering them an opportunity to extend the night none of them wanted to end.
“Changyun’s place isn’t far, right?” Jaeyoung asked, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
“Five minutes,” Minkyun replied. “Less if we don’t get distracted.”
“So, twenty minutes.”
Minkyun snorted. “Yeah, probably.”
On cue, an orange cat sauntered over to the middle of the street, looking at them with curiosity. Minkyun beamed, crouching down to call the cat over. “I wish I had treats to give her.”
Jaeyoung smiled fondly, crouching down to his level as the cat walked closer. He watched the feline rub against Minkyun’s legs, purring as he reached out to pet her. “I don’t think she minds.”
“She reminds me of that cat who used to hang around the bakery near school. The one with the melon bread.”
“God, that melon bread. Kind of dry, but it was a lifesaver on busy days.”
Minkyun nodded, chuckling as the cat rolled over on the pavement. “She was always lounging on the windowsill. I remember playing with her while you got your bread.”
The cat meowed as if in agreement, tail flicking lazily as she circled once more around Minkyun’s shoes before trotting off toward the curb, uninterested now that the attention was waning.
Minkyun stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Guess she’s got other appointments.”
“Probably a hot date,” Jaeyoung replied, stretching his arms behind his back. “You know how it is.”
They resumed their walk, pace a little bit slower now. Minkyun glanced at Jaeyoung, watching the way the streetlights shone on his face. They walked side by side, so close he could reach out and hold his hand if he had the courage to.
“What will you do if you get the job?”
Minkyun was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realised Jaeyoung was looking back at him with a soft smile.
“Move here. Maybe share an apartment with Changyun before I manage to get my own?”
“So you’ll move here permanently?”
Minkyun smiled to himself. “I want to.”
Jaeyoung slowed down his pace, reaching out to the space between their bodies, gently touching Minkyun’s hand. Minkyun didn’t hesitate to reciprocate the gesture, allowing for their hands to tangle together, swinging between them.
“You know,” Minkyun started, “I thought running into you today was pure luck. But then I thought it over.”
Jaeyoung tilted his head. “Yes?”
“You said you often go to Fuse, right? Who knows that?”
Jaeyoung paused, stopping in his step. “Yuto? Some of my students? Why?”
“Bingo,” Minkyun let out a loud laugh, matching the pieces together. “Changyun suggested I take an earlier train, and when my interview was cancelled he said I should ‘take the opportunity to recall memories from our uni days’. Of course he’d plan for us to meet.”
“You’re telling me—” Jaeyoung began.
“That this wasn’t a coincidence?” Minkyun finished.
“God, they’re worse than I thought.” Jaeyoung shook his head, grinning. “And here I was thinking the universe was finally throwing me a bone.”
“We both did.”
“Are you mad?” Jaeyoung asked.
“No,” Minkyun admitted, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “Kind of grateful, actually.”
Jaeyoung nodded, a softness settling behind his smile. “Me too.”
They finished the walk in silence, a quiet kind of peace hanging between them as they reached Changyun’s apartment. The lights were on in one of the windows.
Minkyun lingered at the front steps, turning to Jaeyoung one last time. They looked at each other, really looked, fondness filling the night air. Jaeyoung was the first one to break the peaceful silence.
“Are you free after the interview tomorrow?”
“Definitely.”
“Let’s meet up again,” Jaeyoung stepped forward, shortening the distance between them. “And maybe you can let me hear one of your songs.”
This time, when they hugged, Minkyun wrapping his arms around Jaeyoung’s neck, feeling his bigger hands wrap around his waist, it didn’t feel like goodbye. It felt like coming home.