Chapter Text
The sound of soft clacking filled the silence. The flame of a candle on a nightstand seemed to sway to the rhythmic tapping of a keyboard. Jeongin laid underneath the comfort of a thick and fluffy duvet, working away on his laptop. He by no means considered himself to be a workaholic, but to others he very much was. Jeongin liked to call it being a ‘go-getter’, which explains why he was still up so late on a Friday night finishing up some work that could easily be saved for after the weekend. He was so engrossed in all of his work that he did not even realize just how late it had even gotten. That was, until he got a notification ding sounding from his computer that completely derailed his work flow.
An email notification.
At 12:47 a.m. in the morning.
Confused yet also intrigued, Jeongin moved his cursor over to click on the notification. Why would someone be sending him an email this late in the night? Well he was about to find out. Pulling up the email, he saw it was from someone completely unexpected. Someone he did not suspect would be reaching out to him any time soon.
Christopher Bang.
Even more confusing was the subject title of the email.
‘weeding invitation’.
He paused for a moment. His heart hammering in his chest. It raced with the quickness of an elderly lady eager to enter a bingo hall. After all, it had been a long time since they had last talked to one another, nearly 8 years to be exact. Eventually, with his heart still pumping a hundred beats a second, curiosity got the better of him and Jeongin clicked to open the email.
‘im getting maried nezt month. i want yiu to come. i miss yoi.’
Jeongin’s raging heart beat stilled. He knew at that moment that this was a message from inebriated Chan, but the implications had his mind racing. Where his heart stilled, his mind took the baton in this odd relay race that was happening inside of Jeongin. He could not help but let his mind spiral. Chan was getting married. Chan thought about him. Chan misses him. All these thoughts, all this spiraling, it caused old wounds to flare to life once more. Old, long forgotten, emotions roared anew. Memories started to surface that were once buried long ago.
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The joyfully boisterous sound of drunken yelling filled the house. Two men sat on the couch watching the thanksgiving football game as they kicked back drinking some cold beers. Every time the team the two of them were rooting for did something good, they stood to yell and cheer. When their team did something poorly, they stood to yell and complain. At the sight of the two men, Jeongin simply rolled his eyes.
Every year was the same. Every year they got just as drunk and just as excited as they watched the same game. The teams might have changed, the bets might have been different, but it was ultimately the same. They got just as excited watching grown men carry a ball across a field while tackling each other for it. Another cheer erupted as his and his friend’s dad jumped up in celebration embracing each other. Something good must have happened in the game.
Jeongin simply did not understand what all the buzz over the game was. Though that was a secret he would keep to himself.
“Hey Innie, want to break the wish bone?” There was that nickname that only one person ever called him, the nickname that never failed to make him melt on the inside. Jeongin turned to look over at the voice that called out to him.
Curly black hair framed a handsome face. Beautiful brown eyes gazed ever so fondly towards Jeongin. Big pillowy lips were pulled into a cheeky smile. He wore a tight fitting black tank top that accentuated his athletic build. Jeongin took in the sight of his best friend, having to remind himself not to let his stare linger. He had been secretly pining over for the past 22 years, each day with him felt like falling in love all over again. Though this was yet another secret to be added to his growing roster.
“Sure man,” a coy smile graced Jeongin’s face showcasing his dimples, “but if our mom’s get mad at us I’m blaming it on you.”
In response, Chan simply let out a low chuckle as he turned. Jeongin complicitly followed after, heading into the Kitchen closely behind the other. In this moment, he played true to his fox-like visuals and took the chance to appreciate Chan’s back muscles. They say that foxes are opportunistic little creatures, and that was definitely the case for this fox-like boy.
Chan grabbed the wishbone off a plate that sat next to half eaten thanksgiving dishes. It had been left out to dry so that the breaking of the bone would be easier. Chan turned around and flashed another signature smirk at Jeongin.
“May the luckiest man win.” A simple statement really, but enough to fan the competitive spirit that laid dormant within Jeongin. He did not really care all that much for wanting to win, but now? Oh that was a different story now that Chan had provoked him. Chan got so competitive over small things like this and he knew just how to rile up Jeongin as well. If he was not in such a competitive spirit now, thanks to Chan, he probably would have found the whole thing endearing.
Jeongin returned a smirk that was equally as playful and reached up to grasp the other edge of the wishbone. Their eyes met, Jeongin’s breath hitched, they shared a moment's glance before nodding. They counted down together, aiming to be the winner of this traditional wish.
“3.”
“2.”
“1!”
They each quickly pulled towards themselves which caused the wishbone to break into two. Immediately they began comparing their pieces together in order to determine their winner. As they held their respective pieces together, the winner of the wish was clear as day.
“Ahh you got lucky this year Innie. Tell me what you wish for, yeah?”
“Man you know we can’t share our wishes or else they won’t come true.” A joking glare was shot toward Chan earning an apt eyeroll in response.
“Man you’re such a kid,” Chan laughed to himself, “Well hurry up and make that wish. We have to hurry up and hide the bones before our moms find out we did this before they could record it.” He was right, their parents were obsessed with getting everything on video and they had just made a huge transgression against this obsession. If they did not make a quick exit, they were sure to face punishment.
Jeongin thought to himself. There was really only one thing that he ever wished for every year. One thing he wished for on birthdays, on Christmas, whenever he won the thanksgiving wishbone wish, on shooting stars, on dandelion fluff, when he found four leaf clovers, even when blowing a fallen eyelash off his finger. There was only one wish he ever earnestly yearned for.
For dramatic flair, jeongin closed his eyes and brought the wishbone in sandwiched palms close to his face. He squeezed his hands together with all his might, hoping that the gods, the universe, someone, would hear his desperate wish.
‘I wish Chan would like me back.’
Almost as soon as he thought those words, he suddenly felt an arm pull him into a choke hold and a rough fist ruffle his hair. He opened his eyes and screamed out in protest. Chan, unreleasing Jeongin, laughed to himself bemusedly. The sound of his laugh brought heat to Jeongin’s cheeks, it was his favorite sound in the world. This beautiful moment was something he wished could last forever.
It all came to an abrupt end the second that Mrs. Bang entered the kitchen and saw the two boys fooling around. Almost immediately she clocked what the two boys had done, looking over to the wishbone plate on the counter and seeing it now empty, she shot a very pointed look at the boys. The two froze and stared back at her in terror. She called out for Mrs. Yang to come into the kitchen so they could cook up a punishment for the boys.
Before word could even be said to the boys, Chan quipped, “It was Jeongin’s Idea! I tried to tell him no but he wouldn’t listen!”
Shocked at the sudden betrayal, Jeongin turned to smack his best friend, though his hand only met empty air. After saying his peace, Chan had already bolted in an attempt to make his get away. After being friends for practically their entire lives, Chan knew Jeongin like the back of his hand. At the sight of a stammered Jeongin and a bolting Chan, the two mothers softened their gazes at their rascal sons and laughed.
Though their antics were not enough to spare the two from being placed on dish duty later that night. Chan had to spend the entire evening cleaning the kitchen with Jeongin complaining and making little quips about betrayed trust here and there. While Jeongin had to spend the entire evening cleaning the kitchen with Chan wearing nothing but some shorts and dish gloves. So the punishment was pretty fair in Jeongin’s mind, though Chan would likely disagree citing he clearly had it worse.
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Jeongin stared passively at his wall as the memory pulled to a close in his mind. The candle seemed to have stilled as if also lost in pensive thought. At this moment work was now on the furthest horizon in his mind. His heart, that was just racing moments prior, now lived at a comfortable regular rate. His mind picked up the slack that his heart set down. It was the mind’s time to run the race and take control.
He took a deep breath, shuddering at the intake of air. A sort of melancholy settled over him. The longing of something that no longer exists. The loss of a happiness that burns no more. He took the brief reprieve of memories to glance back at his computer again.
‘im getting maried nezt month. i want yiu to come. i miss yoi.”
Another pang of sadness assaulted his heart. Jeongin gripped at his chest, feeling the ache spread through his chest, the weight of sadness so profound it impacted his body. He let out a scoff of disbelief. It had been 8 whole years since he had last talked to this man. 8 whole years. Yet a mere three sentences was enough to elicit this much of a reaction from him.
He thought he had moved on. He thought wrong.
His mind began to spiral, more memories, more precious moments together, more recollections of the past sprung forth consuming him whole.
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Screams echoed into the dark night. A biting breeze blew through the crowd. It had been hours since the sun had set, yet brilliant lights shone across a field with a surrounding ocean of onlookers. There they sat in the bleachers cheering as they watched two football teams line up on one of the yard lines down below. Jeongin did not really understand anything that was happening despite having attended countless of these games. He just could not remember anything about the rules, he just loved watching the game, or well him.
Number 03.
Chan.
But as far as anyone else was concerned, Jeongin was a huge football fanatic. So much so that he would never miss a game, whether it were a home or an away game. He was there. Rain or shine. Without fail. The sole reason Jeongin even feigned having a miniscule ounce of interest in this dumb sport was just so he could come and watch 03 without arraising suspicion.
Though this was often to his own detriment. His father had assumed that Jeongin genuinely enjoyed watching the sport and would often make the two of them sit together and watch games. Sometimes Jeongin could talk his way out of those moments, but oftentimes that was not the case. There he would be, stuck, watching a game he did not know the first thing about, and his 03 was not even playing in it.
He really just could not wrap his head around the appeal of the sport. Why people found trying to take a ball from one side of a field to another amidst trying to avoid major bodily harm enticing was well beyond him. But this did not matter to him, not as long as jersey 03 was present on the field. When his 03 was out there on that field, it was as if everything and everyone else faded away. Jeongin only saw him. He could stare as much and as long as he liked and no one would bat an eye. Though this was yet even another secret to be kept to himself.
The teams readied into their positions as a whistle blew out. The play had started. Zeroed in on 03, Jeongin had blocked out everything else for it did not matter to him. The bitter chill in the air, the shrill screams, the sickening smell of concessions, all of it did not matter as he watched Chan grasp the football and break out into a sprint. He broke through the line and bolted as quickly as he could for the touch down.
The other team was quick to react, closing in on him as they all steadily made their way to the end zone. Seconds passed and it became immediately apparent that 03 was not going to make it, not at the current speed he was running. He was going to get tackled. Jeongin grasped his hands together and held his breath. This aspect was the one he despised most in the accursed game, the fact that Chan could get hurt while playing.
Jeongin’s breath hitched, his heart froze. Time seemed slow as his heart thumped in his chest heavily. An emotion swelled up within Jeongin, akin to a barrage of water beating against a weakened dam that was unable to hold back against such intensity. He went cold. This moment, this life-defining moment. It was crucial. Would Chan overcome and secure a victory or would Chan succumb and attain injury. As each passing second inched forward, it looked more and more like a tackle was the only ending in store for him.
With all this fear, all this chaos, all this possibility; all Jeongin could do was helplessly wait and see what would happen below. A spectator with no influence on the world around him. He felt small. Powerless. But still he hoped. Hoped that Chan would overcome. Hoped that he would power through. Hoped that even if a tackle was imminent, he would turn out unscathed.
The crowd went silent, watching with bated breaths. One of the opposing defensive linemen entered within arms reach of 03. The crowd could see he was preparing to make the tackle. Yet right as he made the jump to grapple 03, Chan seemed to get a random speed boost out of nowhere. Effortly dodging out of the way of the lineman, he sped forward with newfound vigor.
Cheers erupted from the crowd as Jeongin let out the breath he was so tensely holding upon. Maybe it was a last ditch effort by 03 with only a few more yards to go, pushing through the fatigue that has consumed him. Maybe 03 had conserved his speed in order to pull a last minute ace in the hole. Whether it was desperation, whether it was tactical planning, it had worked.
Chan crossed into the end zone, sealing his team’s victor as the fourth quarter came to an end. Cheers erupted from the crowd, Jeongin jumped up shouting as loud as he could. He knew that Chan would not hear him but that did not matter to him. He simply wanted to add his voice to the masses. Add his support to the many. Add his love to the star.
At that moment 03 and his team celebrated with a group tackle in the end zone of the field. This was an important game for them as it would qualify them for championships now that they have won this one. After the dog pile, Chan stood up, holding his helmet in his hands and sweat dripping down his face. He scanned the crowd with his eyes, seemingly searching for someone among the crowd.
His eyes landed on Jeongin’s, it did not take that long to find him since he was sitting close to the field front and center. When their eyes locked, Jeongin swore that Chan’s eyes lit up. Chan hoisted his helmet in the air and screamed out something that Jeongin was not able to catch over the celebrations and chattering of the crowd. Though deciphering what he meant was not important. Jeongin raised his fists into the air, a large smile plastered across his face, dimples on full display, and yelled out into the night.
Chan's smile mirrored Jeongin’s. It seemed that the world faded to the background and right now the two of them were the only two in existence. Only they existed in each other’s worlds. That damn beautiful smile. It was a sight that Jeongin would willingly give up anything to protect. That smile had gotten him through some dark times.
The teams eventually had to make their way to their locker rooms to freshen up before leaving. People in the stands all started to file out of the stadium, eager to try and beat traffic on their way out. Jeongin quickly made his way to his car in order to warm it up for when Chan came out. Usually for most away games, football players on Chan’s team would ride a school funded bus to and from the location. Their cars would be safely parked at the college and gas money would be saved, it was honestly quite convenient for most broke college students.
However.
Since Jeongin, without fail, made every game, Chan would hitch a riddle home with him. It was a part of their away game rituals. He did not need to ride home with Jeongin, but he chose to. He chose Jeongin. Whenever Jeongin thought of it from this perspective, his cheeks would flush and his heart would stammer. He hated how easy his affections showed on his face. Though by some miracle, whether it be luck or fate, Chan had still yet to notice. Something he would quite like to maintain.
While waiting for Chan to saunter out of the stadium, Jeongin had the heaters turned up making sure the car was nice and toasty for him. He gave it about 15 more minutes before Chan would be out on his way over which was plenty of time to get the car heated up. To pass the time, Jeongin opened up a video from his favorite mukbang creator and envisioned that he was right there next to the mukbanger tasting all that delicious looking food.
Having gotten so engrossed in the video, he didn’t even notice when Chan hopped into the passenger seat and bucked up. It was not until the little sneak grabbed his phone that Jeongin screeched out frightfully jumping in his seat. He flailed his arms out in defense but quickly huffed out in annoyance at seeing it was just his Chan.
“Shit Chan, you scared the fuck out of me,” Jeongin placed his hand over his chest where he coud feel his heart pounding and it was definitely not because the object of his affections sat beside him. No it was because said object had decided to be a little asshole and scare him in a moment of sacred peace. You do not mess with a man who is watching beautifully delicious food being thoroughly enjoyed. You just don’t. That sacred peace was carelessly tainted by someone wanting the cheap thrill of a cheap scare.
Jeongin glowered at Chan in pure unadulterated rage, yet all he got was a careless chuckle in response. It took a few deep breaths for Jeongin to recollect himself over this nearly irredeemable transgression. He shot a couple more glares at the cackling meat bag seated next to him before snatching his phone back from him.
“Are you ready to head out, Mr. Muscle Head?”
Chan, bemused by the entire situation, laughed once more, “Yeah I’m ready. I’m starved though so let’s grab burgers on the way home, yeah?” Not bothering to respond, Jeongin simply hummed to himself as he started the car. Navigating it toward a diner in their town that they often frequented together, especially on game days.
“What’d you think of the game Innie?” Chan sat scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat as he posed the question. Once again that damn nickname. His heart melted every time he used that damn nickname. Jeongin often felt silly being so oddly fixated on small details like this. But it was a special name, a name only Chan called him.
Some people called him Jeonginnie but most called him Jeongin. Chan was the only one to call him Innie, and even though he loved it, he also hated it. Hated how easy it affected it. Hated how much it affected him. Hated how quickly it made him greedy for more. At every use of the name, he could not help but let his thoughts and feelings run rampant. You see, if there was such a concept as the ‘easiest thing’ on this god forsaken planet, it was getting Jeongin’s mind to start spiraling and overthinking.
“You did well, I definitely thought at the end there that you were a goner.”
“Oh yeah? ‘I totally thought’ I was a goner too,” Chan’s sarcastic mimicking of him did not escape him, but he chose to rather ignore that in favor of keeping the peace.
“You’re such an asshole,” Jeongin mumbled, earning another fit of laughter from the other, “Where did that speed boost at the end even come from anyways? Did you plan that?” A moment of silence met Jeongin’s question as Chan thought to himself. He tapped the side of his phone as he considered back to that moment.
“I dunno honestly, I just kinda thought that if I got tackled you’d be worried for like at least a month, so I just sorta booked it.” A deep blush washed over Jeongin’s ears and neck at these words.
He knew, obviously, that Chan did not mean that statement in any particular way but that did not stop Jeongin from being affected by it nonetheless. That was the funny thing about love, it was illogical and affected people in odd unassuming ways. Like trying to find hope in the darkest of spaces, trying to find a paper clip in a sea of sewing needles, or trying to swim across the Atlantic. Love could manifest dangerously, ridiculously, and idiotically. That was just how it worked.
The revelation that Chan had narrowly missed being tackled and potentially injured purely because he did not want Jeongin to worry and probably also partly because he did not want the endless nagging that would follow in suit, was world shattering to Jeongin. Chan gained strength because of him. Chan won, because of him. Maybe, just maybe, he could let himself be hopeful that Chan was just as affected by these weird complex emotions as he was.
Though, having known Chan for as long as he had, he knew deep down that the man was not being serious. Instead he was taking the opportunity to tease Jeongin for being a worrywart. Yet despite knowing this as truth, Jeongin’s body betrayed him by flaming a bright scarlet color. It was honestly a blessing for him that it was so late at night, his blush was concealed away by the darkness never to be discovered.
Swallowing down the bitter taste in his mouth, Jeongin attempted to muster up as sarcastic a tone as he could and replied, “Oh geez, thank you so much for the consideration,” this simply earned a snicker in response.
The rest of the car ride to the diner was filled with aimless mindless chatter between the two. There was a sense of comfort and familiarity between the two of them that was rare, even among the closest of friends. It was an atmosphere that could only arise from those you felt truly comfortable with. Even though Jeongin was battling some bitter emotions internally, he chose to let those feelings drift away and just enjoy the present moment with his ‘friend’.
That night was not special by any particular means. After all, it was a common occurrence during their high school and university days. After every game, win or lose, the two would be out spending the evening together. Whether it was getting food, going on a cruise around town, chilling at either of their homes, or even just sitting in the car parked somewhere talking for hours on end. It was their ritual. Their tradition. Their solace. They found peace in one another and that was that.
That was exactly why Jeongin bothered pretending to care about football in the first place. For moments like this that came after. For moments like this with jersey 03. For moments like this with Chan. So even while this particular night may not have been any more or less memorable than any other spent with Chan, this night was still incredibly precious nonetheless.
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It was precious. But ‘was’ had long been not sufficient enough anymore. No longer were the days where Jeongin lay hung up on every word he spoke. No longer were the days where every small action and gesture would be over-thought and over-analysed. No longer were the days where Jeongin spent every waking moment pining after a man who had not even a morsel of interest in him. Those days of young fervent adoration were long gone. He has grown up now.
He had moved on.
The candle on the nightstand had long since gone out somewhere in the midst of the second memory playing out in Jeongin’s mind. Though the lingering scent of cinnamon and nutmeg still danced and swirled about the room. The warm scent somehow seemed to remind him that those memories were just that, memories. They were nothing more, and honestly they could be less. He was still frustrated at how easily that single email with those three sentences could derail his entire evening.
Now enshrouded in darkness, with the only light left to illuminate the room being that of his computer. His computer that he had just been working on a little while ago. Behind the small window with Chan’s email pulled up, he could see the work document he had previously been working on. Still in the process of being edited, as if to mirror the unfinished business he had left in his relationship with Chan.
A deep heavy feeling of sorrow and loss slowly crept its way onto his shoulders. Slowly it became harder and harder to breathe with every breath he took. This emotion clung to him, suffocating him. He gasped out, fist reaching toward his chest.
He couldn’t think.
He couldn’t breathe.
Something was wrong.
Something was horrendously wrong.
His other hand grasped the soft duvet that blanketed over him.
Tears began to stream down his face as his heart began to race.
He started panting for air.
No matter how quickly he tried to breathe in air, it seemed as if it were never quite enough.
He couldn’t think.
He couldn’t breathe.
Something was wrong.
Something was horrendously wrong.
He first started to lose sensation in his nose.
It slowly spread outward.
His head.
His neck.
His fingers.
His body tingled like that of television static.
He felt tingly all over.
His vision started to fade.
He felt light headed.
He couldn’t think.
He couldn’t breathe.
Something was wrong.
Something was horrendously wrong.
Then he got a notification ding.
Another email.
At 2:43 a.m. in the morning.
This seemed to shock him out of whatever spiral he had just entered. With shaky breaths, he slowly reached his hands up to wipe the tears pouring down from his cheeks. This was not how he had envisioned his evening to go.
He thought he would finish drafting up the proposal for the merger acquisition at work and then get some nice sleep. He thought he would spend the weekend at home with his family, he had not seen them in a long time. He thought he might spend some time playing with his niece. He thought he would eat his mom’s cooking. He thought he would catch up with his dad. He thought he would chit chat with his brothers. He thought that for the first time in a while, he would catch a break.
He never thought he would be laying here at this unholy hour, shaking and crying like a child from simply recollecting memories of his first love. He never thought that after 8 years of being no contact with Chan, he would still be so swayed by him. He never thought that he would still love him.
Yet somehow a small piece of him felt sickly happy that even after all these years, thoughts of him still crossed Chan’s mind. That clearly had to be the case. Or maybe Chan was just reaching out to be nice, after all they were childhood friends. Though maybe he only reached out because his parents asked about him. But then why did Chan invite him in the middle of the night?
Once he centered himself, he moved his mouse cursor to click on the new email he had just gotten. It was from Chan again but this one did not have a subject title this time.
“i miss ypu innie”