Chapter Text
Jiyong scrolls through the photos with a smile on his face, unconsciously grinning here and there. Youngbae sent pictures of the baby shower to his phone and Jiyong has spent ten minutes cycling through them. His favourite photo is a close-up shot of a small pair of baby shoes. He feels a pang in his heart, tracing the Velcro straps with his fingers. It will be a while before the baby can wear shoes so it’s a pointless gift, whoever gave it to them, but at the same time it’s sentimental and more than anything else in the photographs including Hyorin’s pregnancy belly, these little shoes say baby!
In the pit of Jiyong’s stomach there’s a seed of jealousy still. For fifteen years, the longest running joke between he and Youngbae was that he would be the first one married. He would be the first to have kids. More than any of them, he spoke about those things the most. Youngbae would tease him for being sentimental and too romantic and once liked a compilation video on Instagram of all the times he’d mentioned his future family in interviews. To the world, G-Dragon was desperate to find a wife. He had been talking about it in their earliest TV appearances. His younger self from 2007 proudly sat in a restaurant during Guerilla Date and talked optimistically about his future.
When he started dating Seunghyun and when things became serious, the tender feelings about marriage and kids didn’t disappear. They were just pushed aside, packed away in a sealed box in the back of his head because to have that dream meant saying goodbye to Seunghyun and he couldn’t do that. It was implicitly understood that he could have a family and children or he could have Seunghyun, but he couldn’t have both. And for a while that was okay. It had to be okay. While the rest of his friends dated and broke-up and dated and broke-up, he was happy with his life with Seunghyun. They were secure when everyone else was still figuring things out.
Of course, it started to get harder when friends started getting married, when friends became pregnant, when his social media feeds started filling up with babies and then toddlers and then emotional posts about the first day of school. Seunghyun found it equally grating and upsetting, so at some point they quietly muted the people posting pictures of their happy nuclear families. Jiyong stopped musing about kids early on in their relationship because to do anything else was too confronting. As a result, he and Seunghyun have never talked about having kids because it isn’t possible and probably never will be. Even if they were on the same page, they aren’t allowed to marry each other let alone adopt. When the laws finally change on the former, how many more years for the latter? He could be fifty by the time laws are passed to accommodate them.
So, babies have been the subject of a conversation ban in this house and all their other houses. Hyorin’s pregnancy and Youngbae’s constant updates have been a source of vicarious joy, but also pain. But Jiyong is getting better at suppressing the pain because Youngbae deserves his happiness more than anyone. They have been friends too long for him not to live vicariously through Youngbae’s joys.
Youngbae will be an amazing, attentive, loving, unfunny father. Those are facts. Jiyong feels real pride listening to him talk excitedly about the future. So, maybe he can’t ever have what Youngbae has but being there for Youngbae and his family is the next best thing. He might never be a father but thanks to Youngbae he’ll be a godparent, and he'll cherish that. He’ll be the best fucking godfather the planet has ever seen.
‘Fuck, why are baby shoes so cute?’ Seunghyun laments, looking over Jiyong’s shoulder at the photo on his phone. ‘I want to eat them’.
‘I know,’ Jiyong croons.
Seunghyun has been similarly happy for Youngbae’s impending family and has purchased the equivalent of six toy stores to prove it. For weeks, as the due date has drawn closer, he has been coming home with bags full of toys. The wine cellar is positively at breaking point, crammed with toys wall to wall. His excuse being, ‘we’ll be the best fucking uncles ever. The kid will like us more than his parents’.
Seunghyun climbs over the back of the lounge now and sits beside him. Jiyong passes his phone over and Seunghyun scrolls through the pictures himself. They only know three people at the baby shower: Hyorin, her mother and Youngbae’s mother, so there are a lot of unknown faces but it’s nice to look anyway. The soon-to-be parents have been so busy over the last few weeks, Jiyong has barely seen them. He and Seunghyun have been once or twice but things are hectic and his presence was often an impediment. Jiyong knows he’ll be more use to them after the baby is born, so he takes it in stride. He’ll see more of Youngbae afterwards than he has in months. Noone is turning down free babysitting from a trustworthy godparent.
Jiyong turns his head and rests his cheek on the back of the couch, watching Seunghyun’s involuntary smiles as he scrolls through the photos. Sometimes, he wants to have that conversation about children with him. Seunghyun has always had a special connection with his nephew; a changed man when they spend time together. He still travels to Seoul once a fortnight to spend time with his sister’s family. He obviously likes kids. But what good would it do to find out Seunghyun has dreams too that can never be fulfilled? With most things, Jiyong likes talking his problems out. He feels better after they open up to each other, but he finds he can’t do it with this one. It’s too hard.
Seunghyun’s expression slowly morphs over time as he makes it to the end of the photo reel, and he looks a little despondent. Maybe they both have that seed of misery in the pit of their stomachs after all.
‘You okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘It looks like a nice shower. Good turn-out’.
‘So what’s with the face?’
Seunghyun goes through the motions of preparing to lie and shake it off, then he changes his mind, re-makes it and changes it again until he shrugs in a quiet fit of desperation and says something glib instead.
‘I think I’m jealous’.
Jiyong’s heart quickens for a moment.
‘Of what? You want your own shower?’ he asks in jest. ‘You want a baby?’
He says it so casually, he regrets it immediately, but it doesn’t matter because Seunghyun shakes his head in the negative.
‘It’s not that,’ he says, holding the phone between them. ‘There were thirty people at this shower to celebrate,’ he explains. ‘Thirty people to share in this big moment. I’m jealous of that.’
Jiyong barely has time to wonder what Seunghyun means by that before he fills in the blanks, continuing like this is something he has held in for a long time.
‘I get lonely sometimes,’ Seunghyun confesses. ‘Not because you’re not enough but because I can’t talk about my life. Hyorin and Youngbae have their families and thirty friends on call to attend a baby shower,’ he says pointedly. ‘You have your family to call on. What do I have? I don’t have that. I can’t talk about our life together--- my life,’ he stresses, ‘with anyone but you. It’s getting harder to cope with that. Everything my parents know about me is a lie,’ he says. ‘When I talk to them, I can’t tell them anything real. Friends either. When will I have thirty people in a room to celebrate a big moment of my life with you? Or even one person?’
His words come out in a torrent and take Jiyong by surprise. A minute of silence passes before he can catch up. Moments ago, they were cooing over baby shoes. Now, Seunghyun is confessing he’s lonely?
They’ve both expressed similar sentiments before but maybe he hasn’t given enough thought to the difference between them now. Until this year, they were in the same boat, completely isolated and cut off from the people they love because of this monumental secret. Telling his family changed things. It made his side of their desert island larger while Seunghyun’s has remained the same. He knows Seunghyun and Dami text each other on a daily basis, newfound friends, but that’s not the same as talking to your own people. Seunghyun can’t talk to his family about his life at home. He can only talk about work and lie about the rest. Jiyong stammers over his words.
‘I didn’t know you felt like that’.
‘I don’t all the time,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘Most of the time, I don’t think about it but sometimes things happen and I’m reminded. It flares up,’ he says, flipping the phone in his hand. ‘I’m happy for Youngbae. I’m looking forward to being there for his family. But there are times when it reminds me of petty shit I feel about my own life’.
Seunghyun drops his head back and stares at the ceiling with a heavy sigh, suggesting he must be a terrible prick.
‘It’s okay to feel like that,’ Jiyong answers tentatively, thinking about his own thoughts. ‘Isn’t it? You can’t punish yourself for having feelings’.
‘Even bad ones?’
Seunghyun drops Jiyong’s phone on the cushion between them and pulls his own phone from his back pocket. For a minute, he types quietly to himself and Jiyong racks his brain trying to think what to say next. How to fix this. How to come up with some solution to Seunghyun’s confessed loneliness. He feels panic dragging its way up his body.
‘Nice baby shower,’ Seunghyun mutters to himself, reading the text he has just written. ‘You looked great at the shower. Fatherhood looks good on you. You seem taller. Send’.
‘Are you sending that to Youngbae? He wasn’t at the shower’.
Seunghyun passes his phone across and Jiyong sees a pixelly cropped cut of one photo. There are balloons on the ground with stickers of Youngbae’s face on them. One of them has been shoved into a onesie. It looks like a ludicrous, distorted version of him. It’s actually pretty funny. Seunghyun attached it to his text message.
‘Does this make you feel better?’ Jiyong asks.
‘A little bit,’ Seunghyun smiles.
Jiyong sniggers in spite of himself. Youngbae and Seunghyun have been sending each other increasingly stupid memes and messages to each other as Youngbae’s brain has slowly cracked from stress. They’re a bad influence on each other now.
Seunghyun stands suddenly and makes an announcement.
‘I’m going to sit in the greenhouse’.
Jiyong sighs, knowing full well that’s Seunghyun’s spot for miserable reflections. He’s just said something that’s kind of a big deal and now he wants to be alone and marinate in it instead of talking about it.
‘If you go, I’ll follow you. We need to talk about what you just said’.
‘The balloon thing?’ Seunghyun asks, faking obtuseness.
‘No, about you being miserable here’.
Seunghyun sighs and groans, frustrated, skirting the coffee table so he can head to the greenhouse.
‘That’s not what I said’.
Jiyong follows him until they are sitting side by side on the bench in Seunghyun’s greenhouse. It’s incredibly cold. The woods around them are blanketed in snow. It’s unseasonably cold. Global warming perhaps. The seasons have gone haywire. The depths of winter have come weeks too early. It’s still autumn.
‘Do you want to go home?’ Jiyong asks, burying his hands in his pockets. It’s not freezing in the greenhouse but it’s still too cold.
Seunghyun groans in answer.
‘No. This is home. I like it here. I don’t want to leave. It just feels like there’s something missing sometimes.’
Seunghyun’s childish grunts of frustration and the way he’s so easily talking about his feelings signal that he’s been drinking. A glass or two with lunch maybe. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to talk about serious things in this offhand way
‘Maybe it’s time to tell someone,’ Jiyong says simply.
‘Tell them what?’
‘About yourself. Maybe it’s time to tell your family that you’re gay’.
Seunghyun winces and then laughs. He rolls the back of his head over the greenhouse wall behind him, turning his neck so they’re facing each other.
‘I don’t think so’.
‘Why not?’ Jiyong presses. ‘If you want to talk about your life, you have to talk about your life. You have to tell someone the truth.’
They’ve never really talked about Seunghyun coming out to his family. Seunghyun talks about his parents sometimes but Jiyong knows less about them and his relationship with them than Seunghyun does about he and his. Seunghyun has never been that forthcoming about his reasons for keeping quiet all these years.
‘You were afraid to tell your parents you were into men because you were scared they wouldn’t love you anymore,’ Seunghyun says simply. ‘That’s what you told me. That things would never be the same’.
‘Yeah’.
‘You were afraid,’ Seunghyun says carefully. ‘I know that. But did you really believe it would turn out that way? Truthfully. Deep down in your gut, did you really think they wouldn’t love you anymore?’
Jiyong opens his mouth to say yes but stops himself. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe that was something he told himself to excuse his cowardice, because he was afraid of hurting them and them hurting him. Telling his mother was the worst moment of his life. The fear and uncertainty tore him to pieces. That was real. But, staring down the barrel of Seunghyun’s question, he knows that if he sincerely thought being honest would take his family away forever, he never would have told them.
‘No,’ he answers honestly. ‘Deep down, I knew they would still love me. I did think it would change things. That it would be difficult for a few years but not forever. I thought, if they gave me a chance I could make it okay for them’.
Seunghyun smiles knowingly.
‘You don’t have that feeling?’ Jiyong asks tenderly.
Seunghyun shakes his head and shrugs.
‘I don’t know,’ he says, correcting a moment later. ‘No. I mean, I think I’d be a more miserable person if I really believed they wouldn’t love me anymore.’
‘So, what’s the problem?’
Seunghyun shrugs again.
‘Maybe, I just don’t want the inconvenience. I don’t want the temporary nightmare that telling them would create. I’d rather not do it’.
‘Even if life was better in the long term?’ Jiyong asks. ‘Don’t you fantasize about telling them?’
For years, Jiyong felt comfortable with the idea of never telling his family, but he still thought about it. Gaps would open up in their conversations and he would confess in his mind, filling the silence with inner monologue he was too afraid to say aloud. At family dinners and on birthdays he would imagine an extra place at the table. He would fold his hands in his lap and imagine they were Seunghyun’s fingers on his knee. He thought about telling his family a million times over before he actually did. Thinking about those situations brought some consolation. If he could imagine them in his mind, that meant they were possible. It made coming out possible later on. Doesn’t Seunghyun have those fantasies? The prelude to?
Seunghyun shrugs in the negative.
‘I’ve really never thought about it. I’m closer to forty than thirty now. It feels like I’ve missed the boat,’ he says, flippant. ‘Maybe I’ll keep my identity a secret until everyone dies. Like Superman’.
‘Seunghyun, this is crazy. If you’re lonely and desperate for people to know you, for people to talk to that aren’t me, you have to tell someone who you are. If not your parents, then someone else’.
‘Who?’ Seunghyun asks pragmatically. ‘My parents might not want to hear it but they won’t call the press one day when they’re short of money’.
‘Some of your friends?’ Jiyong suggests. ‘Ones who live overseas and are famous in their own right and wouldn’t give a shit about the cheque dispatch would cut to expose you? Don’t you know a married gay couple? Those European artists? I know you have gay friends. Are none of those a safe option?’
Seunghyun shrugs.
‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘But do I want the first time I come out to be to be in broken English to a casual acquaintance?’
‘Maybe it’s easier to start small,’ Jiyong answers, ‘when the stakes aren’t so high’.
‘Maybe,’ Seunghyun answers coolly. ‘Maybe I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I just want to sit in my greenhouse alone. Is that okay?’
Jiyong moves to protest but feels a wave of frustration and changes his mind. He only returns a minute later to throw Seunghyun a coat, then he leaves him to it.
* * * *
For the rest of the day, Jiyong feels a pit of stress growing in his stomach. Things have been good lately. Things have always been good since moving here, but Seunghyun’s job has been going really well. He has picked things up faster than expected. Small changes he’s made have increased public engagement with the gallery and he’s acquired some pretty big pieces for a joint outside the city. He’s been enjoying his life here. He’s started talking about owning his own gallery in the future, like this job has put him on the right path. Like he knows what he wants to do with the rest of his life. And not just Art, but music too—because he’s been in and out of the home studio that Jiyong had left mostly alone.
Seunghyun has been working on bits and pieces as he feels like it. A few times, he has roped Jiyong into recording things too. It’s not a mixtape ready for the world, but it’s a start. They are steps in the right direction. The vacation has been slowly tapering off and they’ve been stumbling towards putting a future together.
Jiyong has been painting and selling bits and pieces at the market, as well as putting larger pieces online through an art dealership. One of his paintings was sold for an okay amount of money. That made him feel legitimate. That made him feel more open to other things, like stepping into the studio with Seunghyun. He has started writing again. Not a lot, but it feels like a natural beginning. No pressure. Nothing forced. His creativity is slowly waking up again and he feels brand new. Life has been good.
And now Seunghyun says he’s lonely.
* * * *
They don’t see each other again until it’s almost midnight. Jiyong gets into bed first and turns the light off, unsure if Seunghyun plans on joining him or not. He hasn’t seen him. Seunghyun has spent hours sitting in the greenhouse and then the cellar when it grew dark outside. He has been a man unto himself. Probably drinking.
When Seunghyun finally does come into the bedroom, he heads straight for the ensuite and takes a hot shower. Jiyong watches steam emerge from beneath the door and wonders if Seunghyun’s attitude has unthawed along with his body.
When Seunghyun does get into bed, he is naked and warm and Jiyong moves closer to him instinctively. Seunghyun rolls onto his stomach, cheek flat against the pillow.
‘I thought you were sleeping,’ he mumbles.
‘No.’
Silence grows between them until Seunghyun breaks it again, voice penitent and quiet.
‘Sorry. I didn’t know I felt those things until I blurted them out. I guess I wasn’t ready for a big conversation. I just wanted to think.’
‘Do you want to talk now?’
‘No’.
‘Alright’.
Jiyong rolls onto his side so he can lay his hand over Seunghyun’s. He doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t need to. I love you is implied. He just maintains that connection between them.
In time, Seunghyun closes some of the distance between them until they are almost on top of each other. He buries his face in Jiyong’s hand and sighs heavily at the touch, planting a gentle kiss to the side of his little finger. It’s uncharacteristically gentle and needy and it wakes Jiyong up for how unusual it is. Seunghyun is tense. He has too much bottled up inside him now, he doesn’t know how to release it. He is tired and frustrated.
‘Jiyong, can you—'
Seunghyun pulls his hand out from beneath Jiyong’s fingers and reverses them. He takes Jiyong’s hand instead, slowly dragging it down the sheets between them, guiding him to his own bare skin. This is clue enough but the rest of the pieces fall into place and Jiyong understands what Seunghyun needs. He rolls over and plants a gentle kiss on Seunghyun’s shoulder.
‘I’ve got you’.
Seunghyun releases a grateful sigh and Jiyong is happy to help if this will do it. It sometimes does. He knows how it goes. Sometimes you want to fuck because you’re happy. Sometimes you want to fuck because you’re not. Sometimes you need someone to take care of you. And that’s what he does for Seunghyun now.
He takes his time preparing him. He warms the lube in his hands before touching him. With his fingers inside, he works him slowly with ease. Seunghyun is usually impatient, but tonight he lets things happen at a leisurely pace. His body responds like a taut spring slowly unfurling.
Seunghyun likes being fucked but they don’t do it as often as Jiyong would like. He enjoys doing this for Seunghyun. He likes massaging out his stress and his knots. He likes the way Seunghyun’s body responds to him. He likes the way he feels and looks and sounds. Even tonight, when Seunghyun’s mind is a thousand miles away, Jiyong likes knowing he can bring him back.
When he enters Seunghyun slowly, he is surprised by the heat and how good it feels. It’s been a while since they’ve done this and Seunghyun groans into his pillow, probably thinking the same. Even after slow and careful prep he is tight because he’s tense but Jiyong is careful with him. He knows that’s what Seunghyun needs, so he doesn’t fuck him. He makes love to him. He is slow and attentive. He feels and hears Seunghyun’s cues and acts accordingly.
Seunghyun’s sporadic groans casually turn into sighs of relief. He seems to enjoy himself best when Jiyong is almost flat on top of him, close enough to almost kiss his shoulder blades, so Jiyong adjusts his position. He makes sure Seunghyun can feel the heat of his breath on his back and he fucks into him deep and slow, maintaining an impossible level of control. Maintaining as much physical contact as possible. It is hard not to go faster, but he knows what Seunghyun needs and it’s nice how steadily he is coming back from that negative place in his head. Seunghyun is responding well to slow and steady because he needs the attention tonight.
In time, Seunghyun’s non-verbal cues become verbal and he is more himself. He says what he wants and Jiyong obliges. He becomes aware of his own situation too, getting closer to the edge as the minutes tick by. He won’t last much longer. He tries to stave it off by thinking about other things. Baby shoes. The dying flowers in the kitchen. The coin he found behind the couch cushions yesterday. Thankfully, Seunghyun saves him in the nick of time. He breathes heavily into his pillow.
‘I’m going to cum soon’.
‘Do you want to roll over?’
‘Yeah’.
Jiyong pulls out and rests on his heels while Seunghyun wearily rolls onto his back. He enjoys laying on his stomach but Seunghyun always rolls over to cum. He can jerk off easier that way and they like seeing each other. Jiyong finds the original position easy, but it’s less personal than when he bottoms himself. He likes missionary when he bottoms. He likes that intimacy. So, he likes this part. He likes when Seunghyun turns around and he can fuck him properly, even if it’s not for long.
He scoots closer until he hits the backs of Seunghyun’s thighs. He lifts Seunghyun’s legs and re-positions himself, entering him again with less control than before because they’re both close. Seunghyun sighs and it’s unmistakably of relief. He puts one hand behind his head and the other between his legs and he touches himself. The sight of it makes Jiyong spin out. It undoes him faster. He barely lasts thirty seconds then cums inside him, wondering as he does it if he should have asked first. He grunts louder than he means to as it hits him hard. It feels fantastic.
He tries to ride it out and keep going, feeling over-sensitised. He manages to fuck Seunghyun for the extra minute it takes him to cum and it’s worth it to watch him unwind. To watch Seunghyun’s head thrown back and his neck taut. To watch his stomach and thighs tighten. To watch the way he trembles slightly when his orgasm hits. To hear the little sound he makes of desperation, of completely letting go. It’s weirdly beautiful when Seunghyun cums. It never seems messy or ugly. He manages to look handsome and graceful and when he finishes, he always has this beautiful relaxed smile on his face.
Jiyong leans down and kisses him.
‘I love you’.
‘I love you,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘Thank-you’.
* * * *
For a few days afterwards, they don’t talk about Seunghyun’s confession. Jiyong tries not to think about it, but it’s hard. From the moment it was released into the house, Jiyong has felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He doesn’t know how to fix things. He doesn’t know how to give them the perfect life he wants them to have. Seunghyun seems to go quickly back to normal. He goes to work in a decent mood and comes home with the same, or he spends all day in his office and they have lunch together and talk about nothing. Regular stuff.
It’s almost a week later when he comes down the stairs with a strange look on his face. He pauses at the bottom of the staircase, dazed, and Jiyong pauses with his coffee halfway to his mouth.
‘What is it?’
Seunghyun seems to snap out of his trance.
‘I just talked to Jung-jin. A friend of mine. He lives in Paris. He called me out of the blue. He wants me to go see him’.
‘What for?’
‘Art stuff’.
‘Art stuff,’ Jiyong repeats slowly. ‘Okay. Are you going to go?’
Seunghyun hesitates but when he does answer, he sounds resolute.
‘Yeah. And--- I think I’m going to tell him about me’.
Jiyong puts his coffee down on the bench abruptly, wondering if he’s misunderstood.
‘Tell him you’re gay?’
‘Yeah,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘He’s Korean but he’s spent most of his life in Europe. We have mutual friends who are gay and he has good relationships with them. He’s been my friend for ten years but not close enough that it would ruin my life if we weren’t friends anymore, you know? Maybe you were right. Maybe I need to start smaller than my family and tell someone else, with stakes that are less high. Maybe he called me today for a reason. Divine providence or something. I think he’s my test run’.
Jiyong lets out a lengthy exhale and shakes his head in disbelief.
‘Wow. Okay. I um---’
He immediately starts thinking of the reality of telling someone outside their blood about who they are. He encouraged Seunghyun to do it to mitigate his sense of loneliness, but now that he’s thinking about it, Jiyong can’t help worrying about the endless things that could go wrong.
‘Wow, I’m kind of panicking now that I think about it,’ Jiyong breathes. ‘But okay. No, this is good. Right? This is a big deal. This is … big’.
Seunghyun shrugs sympathetically.
‘Yeah’.
Jiyong tries to shake off his new worries, shoving them into an already bursting box in the back of his mind. He moves to Seunghyun and squeezes his hand in solidarity. Even if things go horribly wrong, they have to hope for the best in the meantime. He has to be optimistic. He has to believe good things will happen.
‘This is a big step,’ he tells Seunghyun. ‘If you want to do this, I’m with you. This is a good thing. A good good thing’.
‘Maybe’.
‘When does he want you?’
‘Next week’.
Jiyong smiles through his exacerbated stress and tries to think through this, to a future where Seunghyun has a friend that knows who he really is. He thinks about how necessary it is. How completely vital it is for Seunghyun’s sanity to have someone he can call who isn’t his partner and his family. This will be okay. This will be a good thing. Nothing bad will happen. He says it over and over in his mind like a mantra. He wills it into existence.
* * * *
Approximately seven hours after Seunghyun buys his plane tickets, his friend cancels. Seunghyun wanders into the kitchen where Jiyong is standing in the open fridge, his mouth full of stolen food.
‘The trip is off’.
Jiyong swallows the scoop of rice down and hurts his throat in the process.
‘What? Why?’
Seunghyun shrugs and cites a change of plans, then drops the bombshell that his friend is travelling to Seoul instead. On top of that, he doesn’t want to meet him in the city. He wants to invite him here instead, to this house they share together in the middle of nowhere.
‘I haven’t asked him yet. I wanted to talk to you first. What do you think?’
‘Why here?’
‘Because this is my home,’ Seunghyun answers uncertain. ‘This is where I feel comfortable at the moment. This is where all my work is. This is where the gallery is. It’s where you are. If something goes wrong, it would be nice to have you close by’.
Jiyong is touched by that and already running through a thousand difference scenarios in his mind. They need plans and contingencies. They need a schedule.
‘So, you’re definitely telling him?’
‘I hope so’.
‘And if you do, do you want to include me in your confession?’
Seunghyun’s brow furrows like he hadn’t considered this a separate part of his big reveal.
‘How would you feel about that?’
Jiyong lets out a shaky breath in answer, expelling some of his stress. Seunghyun has trusted him with so much. He has to do the same.
‘If that’s what you want to do, it’s okay,’ Jiyong answers. ‘If you trust him not to expose us, then you can tell him about us. It’s fine. But if you want to invite him here to our house, we need to figure something out until you do tell him. Or if you change your mind later, we need to iron out some of the kinks in this plan’.
‘Like what?’
‘Like you want him to stay in the house? If he’s going to stay here, what’s the excuse for me being here until you have the big conversation? Will you tell him this is your home? An Airbnb? Do you want me to be here or should I stay somewhere else for a few days? We’ll have to guest-proof the house and take some pictures down. When is he coming?’
‘Friday’.
‘Five days? Jesus. Okay’.
Seunghyun lays his hands on Jiyong’s shoulders and grips him tightly.
‘Relax.’
* * * *
Ultimately, it’s impossible for Jiyong to relax. Seunghyun extends the invitation to his friend and he accepts. Flights are booked, plans are made and they are put on the path of no return. Once he has made the decision in his mind, Seunghyun’s mood changes. He seems a little more carefree and optimistic. He isn’t sweating the small stuff. In his head is the one big conversation and everything else is greyed out.
This leaves Jiyong to worry for the both of them. He doesn’t want to. This is the outcome he wanted when Seunghyun confessed he was lonely. Still, he worries. He throws himself into de-coupling the house. He takes down all the pictures of himself and the two of them together. He hides mementos of their relationship. He tries to make this the house of a single man. If Seunghyun backs out and can’t tell his friend, he wants that to be okay. He needs the house to be unsuspicious so Seunghyun doesn’t feel pressured. He doesn’t want him to do anything he isn’t ready for. It’s strange. When he has divested all evidence of himself from the main parts of the house, it feels like a different place. Like not even Seunghyun lives here.
‘Wow, this house kind of sucks without you in it,’ Seunghyun observes at the end of a long day. They lay together on the couch with their feet intertwined and Seunghyun takes in the changes. All the missing pieces. All the lost warmth.
‘Yeah. I’m not crazy about it’.
‘I’ll just have to tell him on the first day,’ Seunghyun says, ‘so we can put everything back where it belongs’.
* * * *
Over the next forty-eight hours, Jiyong hardly sees Seunghyun. He wants to take a few days off when his friend arrives, so Seunghyun does as much work for the gallery as possible in advance so he doesn’t fall behind. Jiyong takes lunch into the study for him but Seunghyun rarely eats it. Sometimes, he takes a bite or two and then he’s out the door on some errand. Jiyong leaves him to it mostly, trusting that he can feed himself.
At the end of the second day, he notices snow begin to fall. Since their first conversation, it has snowed and melted and now it is snowing again. Winter is still two weeks off. It absolutely shouldn’t be snowing. Suddenly, he feels a conflicting thought. Maybe the weather will affect Seunghyun’s plans. Does he want them to? He doesn’t know. He feels such a ball of stress inside but he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t think Seunghyun’s plans are going to end in disaster. He genuinely thinks it will be okay. Opening up to this friend will be good for him in the long run. So, where is this feeling coming from? This growing panic?
Jiyong spends the morning watching the weather channel. He shovels snacks into his face while listening to meteorologists explain this bizarre weather phenomenon in terms he doesn’t understand even with graphs a toddler should understand. Basically, winter has come early because of some squiggly lines over some water somewhere. They’re predicting heavy snowfall for a few days. When Seunghyun comes home from some errands, Jiyong lets him know. Maybe the snow will affect his plans.
‘I’m sure it will be fine’.
‘Mrs. Lee told me the road down there,’ Jiyong says, gesturing vaguely North, ‘gets blocked sometimes from snowfall. Because of the little dip. Sometimes you can’t get through’.
Seunghyun purses his lips for a minute and then shrugs, cavalier as ever.
‘It will work out’.
He seems in an okay mood but he looks tired. He has overworked himself over the last few days and still has a list of things to get through.
‘You should take a nap,’ Jiyong suggests.
‘I’m fine’.
* * * *
The next day, Jiyong wakes up to a whiter world. It has snowed through the night. He can still see chunks of road but if it doesn’t let up, who knows? Seunghyun’s friend will arrive in two days. He recalls his own to-do list. If it’s going to snow for a few days, he has to make sure they have supplies. They need food and water. He has to check the gas bottles downstairs in case the power goes out. He needs to check the generator. He has to check on Mrs. Lee to make sure she has everything. He suddenly feels a flash of gratitude that he got her roof fixed weeks ago. He didn’t want to put her out too much so he hired enough people to slap a new roof on her house in two days. At the time, he set someone to work checking the rest of the house too and was consoled that the place wouldn’t fall down in a strong wind. His fears months earlier of her dying in a snow related roof collapse are unlikely to happen now. Still, he has to check in.
So, he crawls out of bed, unsurprised to find Seunghyun already gone, and he starts on his list. First, he eats. Then, he pulls the sheets off the guest bed downstairs and puts on fresh ones. He flips on the robot vacuum and dusts the fan. The least he can do is make sure Seunghyun’s friend doesn’t breathe in a metric tonne of dust. Seunghyun comes in when Jiyong is taking a break, resting on the end of the bed. Climbing on furniture to reach the ceiling has worn him out.
‘The weather warning is now severe,’ Seunghyun says.
‘What does that mean?’
‘The usual I suppose. Stay indoors, et cetera. I spoke to Jung-jin. He’ll try to drive down if he can. If he can’t, he’ll stay in a motel until the snow clears. He can’t get an earlier flight. I was going to drive to Seoul to pick him up but I don’t want to leave you here alone in case something happens’.
‘That’s sweet,’ Jiyong says, touching his heart. ‘You’ll put your friend in jeopardy instead?’
‘It’s heavy snowfall, that’s all. It might be hard to drive for a few days. I would rather get trapped here with you, than not be able to get home. Plus he’s European-ish. He ski’s. I already warned him’.
‘This feels wildly unsafe, but okay’.
Seunghyun smiles but he still looks tired. Jiyong pulls him in by the bottom of his sweater.
‘Are you okay? You look tired. When did you get up this-morning?’
‘Five?’
‘Seunghyun, give it a rest. That’s too early! I’m missing our morning cuddles too. It’s freezing. I need your body heat’.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ Jiyong answers obstinately, smiling into the kiss Seunghyun bends down to plant on his lips. ‘So stop being selfish and stay in bed with me’.
‘Right now?’ Seunghyun asks, pushing Jiyong back onto the sheets.
Jiyong crawls backwards up the mattress so they have more room. When Seunghyun lies down on top of him, Jiyong can’t help lifting his hips to meet him. He hasn’t felt Seunghyun’s body against his in a while. Not like this, not with Seunghyun on top of him. So, for a while he lets his to-do list fall to the wayside and they make out like teenagers. Their hands roam. Maybe it starts to go a little further. Maybe Seunghyun unbuttons Jiyong’s pants. Maybe Jiyong slides a few fingers beneath the waistband of Seunghyun’s briefs to grab his ass. He breaks the kiss so he can speak.
‘You want us to have sex on the bed your friend will be sleeping in?’
Seunghyun grimaces, considering the fact. He kisses Jiyong again and then props himself up on his elbows.
‘Your parents slept in here when they stayed. They probably had sex in this bed too’.
Jiyong has a knee-jerk reaction and pushes on Seunghyun’s chest in remorse.
‘No. Get off. No. No. No.’
Seunghyun rolls off and smiles as Jiyong straightens himself out. He does his pants back up and straightens his shirt and hair.
‘I have things to do anyway,’ he says, wishing he hadn’t said anything. ‘I have to go the store and buy groceries and get supplies. And I have to check in on Mrs. Lee. If there’s going to be heavy snowfall, I want to make sure she’s okay and has everything she needs. I’ll probably be gone a few hours.’
‘Okay’.
Jiyong bends over and kisses him.
‘Do you need anything?’
‘Um—you know me,’ Seunghyun answers wearily. ‘Buy all the responsible stuff and then buy us some food. Entertaining type stuff. You know what I like. Stuff for guests, and some meat. There’s enough wine and other drinks in the cellar. We just need food’.
‘Okay. I might have to go into the city to get it all. I’ll text you if I’m going to be late’.
* * * *
It takes Jiyong hours longer than he expected. He is gone for most of the day. He tried buying a few things in town and then gave up as things were out of stock thanks to people panic buying supplies. He eventually gives up and drives to Seoul. It takes an hour longer than usual because of the snow in Inje. He drives slower than he normally would. So, he gets home almost nine hours after he left with gas bottles, a cooking stove just in case, a bunch of other random supplies in case of an emergency greater than snow. And enough food for twenty people. He took an extra thirty minutes to drop in on Mrs. Lee. He bought her some gas bottles too, and some other things on her list.
When Jiyong gets back, all the lights in the house are off. He dumps everything in the kitchen and moves to head upstairs to check if Seunghyun is in bed, but he sees his legs out of the corner of his eye through an open door. He is still in the spare bedroom.
Jiyong flicks the light on, surprised to find Seunghyun exactly as he left him hours ago. He hasn’t even rolled over. He doesn’t wake when the lights turn on. Jiyong nudges him until he rouses.
‘Have you been here since I left?’
Seunghyun groans a little.
‘I’m tired’.
Jiyong sweeps the hair off Seunghyun’s forehead and lays his palm flat across it.
‘Do you feel alright? You’re a little warm’.
‘I’m fine. I sleep hot’.
And that’s true enough, but Jiyong doesn’t believe him now.
* * * *
The next morning, his suspicions are all but confirmed. When he gets up at 9 to put yesterdays supplies in their appropriate place, Seunghyun is still asleep. When he comes back to check on him at 10, he is still in bed.
‘You never stay in bed this late,’ Jiyong tells him.
Seunghyun groans and grimaces like he has the body of an octogenarian.
‘I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, I’m so tired’.
‘You’re sick’.
‘No, I’m not’.
Jiyong sits on the bed beside him and lays a palm on his forehead again.
‘Seunghyun, you are sick. You’re really warm. Seriously. I felt it in bed last night. I could barely touch you, you were making the whole bed hot.’
‘I’m fine,’ Seunghyun enunciates unconvincingly. ‘It’s the weather. It makes me want to sleep’.
Jiyong looks out the glass doors and sees the snow falling heavier. Seunghyun’s friend is supposed to arrive tomorrow. He might not make it and maybe it’s for the best now.
‘I know you want to see your friend, but maybe you should cancel. You need to rest’.
Seunghyun rouses himself, pretending to be well. He sits up and puts on a show of wellness. He hasn’t seen himself in a mirror so he can’t see how comical it is.
‘I’m fine! It’s fine!’
Jiyong sighs.
* * * *
Seunghyun’s new illness has one benefit, in that Jiyong’s throbbing mound of anxiety takes a step back, replaced by a more benign anxiety that forces him to trail behind Seunghyun the entire day, watching him pitifully pretend he isn’t sick. He forces him to take cold & flu tablets. He makes him eat soup for lunch. He makes him put on a second sweater. He sneaks up behind him and puts hand warmers in his pockets. Seunghyun is being strangely obstinate about being sick so Jiyong tries to help him discretely.
He understands. Seunghyun obviously has things he’s struggling with, some of which he hasn’t fully understood yet. Telling his friend he’s gay--- telling somebody that he’s gay for the first time in his life is a huge thing. He has finally made this choice after thirty-five years and now that he’s done that, his body is betraying him. To have to postpone this important moment in his life will feel like a huge step backwards. It could change everything. Maybe, he’ll change his mind. So, Jiyong understands Seunghyun’s childish denial when he starts coughing towards the end of the day.
When his throat begins to hurt, Seunghyun seems to lose the will and energy to pretend and Jiyong mercifully gets him into bed early.
While Seunghyun sleeps, Jiyong does one final check around the house to make sure all evidence of their cohabitation has been divested. All of their mementos are now crammed into the wardrobes in their bedroom.
For good measure, Jiyong drags a suitcase into the second spare room and ruffles the sheets so it looks like he’s been sleeping there. If Seunghyun’s friend turns up tomorrow and Seunghyun gives him the tour, he’ll see that Jiyong has been sleeping elsewhere. As he does it, he is tempted to sleep in there earnestly. He doesn’t want to get sick. But guilt drags him back into bed with Seunghyun. He lays a hand on Seunghyun’s back and flinches at the heat.
At midnight, he wakes him up to take some ibuprofen to try and bring his fever down.
* * * *
The next morning, Jiyong leaves Seunghyun in bed and checks the driveway. He stumbles his freezing ass into the road to try and see down the street. He can barely see gravel now, snow falling thick and fast. There’s a good chance Seunghyun’s friend won’t make it and Jiyong is glad.
He should get to the pharmacy today or see if a house doctor can get to them. Seunghyun spent half the night murmuring and tossing and turning, uncomfortable the entire night. He knows Seunghyun won’t drop dead, that he just has the flu or a virus, but he worries anyway. Seunghyun doesn’t get sick very often. He says the wine he drinks is a natural virus repellent. Clearly not.
When he comes back inside, Seunghyun is sitting near the bottom step with his head in his hands. He looks up when Jiyong approaches.
‘I don’t feel that good’.
‘Seunghyun, call your friend. He can’t come’.
‘I tried,’ he says, putting his phone on the step beside him. ‘No reception’.
Jiyong pulls Seunghyun’s phone off the stairs and he’s right. There are no bars. He quickly checks his own phone and finds the same. He feels a different kind of panic in the back of his head now. The reception in the hills is pretty bad on a good day but they can still make calls. Not being able to use the phone while Seunghyun is sick is a bad thing. He can’t call a house doctor if he can’t call anyone. If the road closes, they’ll be stuck here. The landline phone is buried somewhere in the cellar, torn out of the wall after the 80th telemarketer. He wouldn't know where to begin looking for it.
‘Fuck! It must be the storm coming in. Maybe your friend won’t get through,’ he says, moving to the window. ‘Hardly any of the road is still visible. It won’t be long until the road closes. Which means I should try and get out now.’
Seunghyun lifts his weary head.
‘What?’
‘Seunghyun, you’re seriously sick. I need to go to the pharmacy’.
‘For what?’ he shrugs. ‘It’s a virus or something. Nothing for it’.
Jiyong protests but Seunghyun grimaces and asks him nicely not to go and Jiyong folds because Seunghyun looks pitiful and he makes a good point besides.
‘What if the road closes and you can’t get home? It’s not safe. I need you here’.
* * * *
An hour later, a car pulls into the driveway. Jiyong is looking out the window when it does, and he sees the car skid precariously as it brakes. In his gut he knows, not only has Seunghyun’s friend made it through--- he can’t get back out. It’s not safe to turn him away.
Seunghyun appears at the top of the stairs, freshly showered with his hair brushed and a set of warm clothes on. He looks halfway alive.
‘I’ll be okay,’ Seunghyun anticipates him. ‘I’ll wrap myself in a blanket, take drugs and stay on the couch. I’ll just talk to him. This will be a very boring couple of days.’
When Seunghyun’s friend gets out of the car, Jiyong can barely see his face through the falling snow but it’s enough to make his heart pound in his chest. His old anxiety comes alive again. Even knowing things will be okay, the what-if rears its head again. This man could ruin him. This man he has never met will know something that could tear apart his life. This man will know something that his closest friends don’t know yet. Is it right for this man to know before Youngbae? Joo Star? All of them?
Seunghyun comes to stand beside him and he sees the tired but genuine smile on Seunghyun’s face. His excited anticipation to see his friend, or maybe to unburden himself of this big secret. Either way, Seunghyun is calm and eager so Jiyong forces his panic back down and puts a smile on his face too. Before the guy reaches the front door, Jiyong reminds himself: This is not my home. I am a guest in this house. I am Seunghyun’s friend. There is nothing between us.
* * * *
When he gets settled in, Jung-jin seems like a decent guy. He speaks Korean with a strange European lean and sometimes slips into French when he gets excited. Jiyong can’t follow those parts. The extent of his French is a few crude references to sex and some swear words. Merde, salaud, stuff like that. Seunghyun seems not to notice when it happens. He laughs at stories about mutual friends that Jiyong doesn’t know, and they reminisce about old times.
Jiyong spends his time split between monitoring Seunghyun’s health and wondering how Seunghyun has pulled off lasting relationships with friends Jiyong has never met. He’s been with Seunghyun for thirteen years at least. It’s a good thing though. It makes him happy to hear stories he’s never heard. He is glad that they’re not so co-dependent that they’ve never led their own lives. Inje is the first time they’ve ever been in each other’s pockets for such a long time. It’s good that they can exist in both worlds.
Jung-jin asks about him and Jiyong answers as best he can. He tries to be interesting and entertaining but it doesn’t fully come through. He gets the feeling Jung-jin sees him as an oddity, a once famous person from Seunghyun’s past still clinging on. But he’s genuinely nice enough. He doesn’t talk about himself too much, or too much about Seunghyun. He isn’t overbearing or insipid. He just seems like a normal guy with money. It turns out he wants Seunghyun’s help nabbing a particular art piece he hasn’t been able to get his hands on. He thinks Seunghyun’s connections will help the wheels turn faster. He listens with genuine interest when Seunghyun talks about the little gallery in town.
When it’s time to eat, Jiyong offers to get dinner ready. He goes to do it automatically and then remembers he’s supposed to be a guest. He makes an excuse about needing to get up anyway, I’ll get dinner tonight. Don’t worry about it. The story is that he’s been staying here for a few days already, so he knows his way around. It’s simple enough and Jung-jin asks no questions. So, Jiyong makes dinner but he keeps it simple. Meat and more meat basically. Jung-jin eats enough for four people and Seunghyun doesn’t eat anything. He apologises. He says his throat hurts too much to eat. Jiyong makes him a cup of broth instead and he pretends to drink that but doesn’t.
As the evening wears on, Jiyong’s panic begins to dissipate. This is such an uneventful gathering. He finds himself growing bored of conversations that can’t include him. He finds himself growing tired and when he first nods off in his chair, Jung-jin’s laughter wakes him up. They take pity on him and call it a night. Jung-jin is tired from his flight and the drive down.
Jiyong is careful when sneaking into the bedroom. In bed, Seunghyun melts back into a puddle of sickness. Faking pseudo wellness downstairs, his voice becomes hoarse the moment he closes the bedroom door behind him. Sweat starts dotting his forehead. He barely has the energy to take his clothes off. Jiyong gives him some more medicine, probes him about his throat and his cough and lets Seunghyun bury his face in the pillow.
‘No problem,’ Seunghyun murmurs. ‘See? Will tell him tomorrow. All on track,’ he says.
‘Seunghyun, you don’t have to tell him this week if you don’t feel like it. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to get too stressed or excited’.
‘It’s not the 1800’s,’ Seunghyun slurs from tiredness but laughs it off. ‘I don’t have Tuberculosis. You think I’ll die if I get too animated? Relax,’ he says. ‘Go to sleep’.
Jiyong is surprisingly tired so he relents.
* * * *
When he wakes the next morning, Seunghyun is incredibly unwell. He is sweating so much, the sheets beneath him are wet. His breath is a little laboured. When he coughs, it sounds wet and harsh.
Jiyong is careful not to wake him up when he slinks out of bed and closes the bedroom door behind him. Downstairs, he finds Jung-jin in the kitchen helping himself to some leftovers from the fridge. Jiyong says nothing about the fact he’s eating from a shared bowl with his fingers, licking them and then putting them back in the bowl.
‘Good-morning!’
Jiyong grimaces at the cheeriness of this hello. Jung-jin has an obscene amount of energy for someone who went to bed jetlagged.
‘Hey,’ Jiyong replies, his usual tired self in the mornings. ‘Listen, I caught Seunghyun a minute ago and he’s really unwell. I don’t think he’ll be getting out of bed today. He needs a lie-in’.
Jung-jin’s eyebrows rise then Jiyong watches the disappointment descend, immediately followed by resignation, acceptance and equanimity. It’s an impressive feat. He shrugs good-naturedly and says, ‘That sucks. But I’ll be here a couple of days, it’s okay. We’ll talk later. Should we do something for him? Should we call a doctor?’
Jiyong checks his phone and grimaces.
‘No. There’s no reception right now’.
‘Shit. He really moved to the boondocks, huh’.
‘Yes, he did,’ Jiyong sighs.
* * * *
Three hours later, he is sprawled on the couch with a DVD playing through the projector on the far wall. Jung-jin is similarly sprawled on a second chair. They are officially snowed in with nothing to do. They have made impressive small talk but said nothing of real interest to each other, apart from a few pointed stories about Seunghyun that made each other laugh.
At key points in the film, Jiyong lets his eyes rest on Seunghyun’s friend. How will he respond when Seunghyun tells him this huge secret about himself? What will he say? What will his face look like when answers?
The characters in the film enter a museum and Jiyong makes more small talk to fill the silence born from neither of them fully watching the movie in the first place. He asks about the artwork Jung-jin wants Seunghyun to help him find. He replies animatedly and talks about this sculpture he saw in a studio in Paris last year. He tosses his phone over and Jiyong zooms in on the head-sized metal sculpture of – he doesn’t know what. He hands the phone back and Jung-jin tells the overlong saga of his search thus far. He saw it in a studio one day and was enthralled. This hunk of metal spoke to him. But he was working at the time and couldn’t ask about it. When he went back the next day, it was gone and he’s been following it around Europe ever since. He mentions the artists name but Jiyong doesn’t recognise it. Jung-jin tosses him his phone again.
‘That’s a better picture’.
Jiyong looks uninterestedly but starts at the photo when he pays attention. The artist is holding the sculpture in this photo and Jiyong recognises her. He laughs abruptly.
‘Oh shit. I know this woman’.
Jung-jin sits up and leans eagerly closer.
‘What? How?’
Jiyong shrugs and hands the phone back. He met this woman at a party once. He knows someone who knows her. He doesn’t recognise the name Jung-jin gave, but maybe she has two names. A lot of Korean artists working overseas have their home name and their foreign name. He gave this woman tickets to a concert once, for her niece or nephew? Someone.
‘She owes me a favour,’ Jiyong says. ‘Maybe I can find her number when I’ve got bars again. I might be able to help you.’
Jung-jin theatrically raises his hands to the ceiling.
‘I could kiss you! You’re a god among men! Thank-you!’
* * * *
Thirty minutes later, the credits roll on the movie and Jiyong can’t remember a single thing about it. Jung-jin has a glassy look in his eyes like he’s in the same boat. Seunghyun interrupts their soul-crushing boredom and awkwardness by coming down the stairs looking like a moderately alive human being. He is fully dressed and his hair is brushed. Jiyong would think he was on the mend if he hadn’t seen him a few hours ago with one foot in the grave.
He stands and meets Seunghyun in the hallway, whispering under his breath for Seunghyun to get the fuck back into bed and Seunghyun replies in the same hushed tone.
‘Jiyong please. I’m okay. I’ll take it easy’.
‘Go to bed. I’m serious. Go to bed’.
Hesitation flickers on Seunghyun’s face but Jung-jin seals his fate, joining them near the kitchen with a slap across Seunghyun’s back. He applauds Seunghyun’s defiance in the face of bacteria and cajoles Seunghyun into an animated conversation on the couch. Jiyong has to wait a minute before joining them because he feels such a swell of anger and frustration, it takes time to wipe it off his face.
Reluctantly, he joins them in lounge room. He has no choice. Seunghyun is sicker than he wants to admit and Jung-jin seems to think Seunghyun is a grown man who knows his own limits. Jiyong knows better than that, so he has to sit close by and watch him.
An hour goes by and Jiyong’s mind drifts. He wonders if Seunghyun really is going to reveal the biggest secret of his life this week. Will he do it here in the lounge-room, while they talk boring shit across a coffee table? Will it be that banal? What a far cry from his own coming-out. He briefly remembers his mother’s tears and her back as she walked away from him. What a nightmare. He is so wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost doesn’t notice Seunghyun getting off the lounge. Seunghyun waves him off with his hand, it’s fine.
‘I’m just getting a glass of water’.
‘I’ll get it for you’.
‘I’m not an invalid,’ Seunghyun replies.
Jiyong feels a swell of anger puff out his chest again, and Jung-jin laughs.
‘I wish I had an attentive friend like this. How much do you charge?’ he asks Jiyong. ‘I’ll double what Seunghyun pays you.’
It’s such an obscene and shitty joke, Jiyong is about to say something rude—then he hears a sound behind him that makes him spin around. A little sound in the back of Seunghyun’s throat. He is standing stock still between the lounge and the kitchen and Jiyong stands up.
‘Seunghyun—’
Seunghyun turns around with a frail look on his face and they make eye contact. It makes his heart skip a beat because he recognises the signs. Jiyong jumps over the back of the couch and reaches Seunghyun in time to catch his head as he falls. Seunghyun simply drops. He passes out and Jiyong has to dive to cushion his head before he hits the ground, and even then, it’s such a forceful hit that he hurts his knuckles in the process.
He slides his hands out from under Seunghyun’s head and checks the pulse in his neck like an idiot. He has to make sure he isn’t dead. That he isn’t one of the 20,000 young people who die of cardiac arrest each year without warning. He feels it. Seunghyun has a pulse. Jiyong lets out a shaky breath of relief before slapping his cheek gently.
‘Seunghyun’.
Jung-jin materialises beside him.
‘Shit, what happened?’
‘Fuck,’ Jiyong whispers. ‘Fuck’.
Seunghyun is burning hot and his skin clammy. The colour has drained from his face. Unconscious on the ground, he looks so much worse than he did earlier in bed. Jiyong chides himself for not staying upstairs with him. If Seunghyun’s friend wasn’t here, he wouldn’t have left his side. This is his fault. He should have taken care of him better. He should have been more forceful.
‘Should I call an ambulance?’ Jung-jin asks.
Jiyong laughs abruptly, feeling borderline hysterical. Panic rises in his throat and the worry in his stomach balloons until he can hardly breathe. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. He just needs three seconds. He just needs three seconds to calm down and to think. Seunghyun will be okay. He’ll be okay.
‘There’s no reception,’ Jiyong says quietly, reigning in his stress, ‘and the roads are blocked. But it doesn’t matter,’ he says, trying to think rationally. ‘He isn’t going to die, he’s just sick. We need to take him upstairs. Help me get him upstairs, okay?’
He turns to face him as he says the last part and Jung-jin nods in agreement.
‘Sure. Whatever you say. I’ll grab his head’.
‘Thanks’.
Jiyong stands and finds his knees buckle unexpectedly. He’s shaking all over from the sudden stress and it takes work to settle himself down. He lifts Seunghyun’s feet and tries not to look at his face. It upsets him. Seunghyun is moving a little, not fully unconscious, but he isn’t meant to see Seunghyun on the ground. He isn’t meant to see him like this. It makes him feel sick.
Jung-jin takes Seunghyun’s shoulders and on the count of three, they lift him. Jiyong directs them upstairs. It’s awkward but they manage to carry Seunghyun into the bedroom.
‘Just here’.
They lay him on the bed and Seunghyun grimaces, murmuring to himself. He looks uncomfortable and pained and Jiyong forgets about the other guy entirely. His world narrows to a point. There is only room in his head for Seunghyun and what he can do for him. He doesn’t know—he’s not a doctor. Stress threatens to bubble over again and Jiyong takes another three seconds to calm down.
He ducks into the bathroom, pulls the first aid bag out of the bottom drawer and finds the thermometer. He holds it over Seunghyun’s forehead until it beeps. Jung-jin looks at the read-out over his shoulder and comments.
‘That’s bad but it could be worse.’
He isn’t wrong. Seunghyun’s fever is too high but it isn’t life-threatening. It’s a small consolation. Jiyong can try and bring it down. Back in the bathroom, he pulls a washer out and runs it under cold water before wringing out the excess. When it touches Seunghyun’s forehead, Jiyong sees the little change in his face—the temporary relief the coldness brings him. It calms his nerves. Jiyong leaves it there, already thinking about the next step.
‘Why did he collapse?’ Jung-jin asks. ‘The fever?’
‘That and I don’t think he’s eaten anything in days. That’s probably why.’ Jiyong snaps his fingers and points to Seunghyun’s bedside table. ‘There should be some ibuprofen in the drawer there. I’m going to get a glass of water for him’.
Jiyong heads downstairs and his mind goes blank. He moves on autopilot.