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“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, your graduates of 2013.”
It’s Autumn.
The world is shedding her summer skin and gradually turning a burnt orange colour, browns and reds littering the streets in fallen leaves and dying sunlight. Junmyeon is swamped in the arms of his family, struggling to breathe in their cloying embrace as he laughs with hysterical glee.
“Your speech was wonderful,” his mother congratulates him, and he ducks his head shyly, proud that he got all of his words out without a mistake. His family eventually shoo him away—go celebrate with your friends—and so he trades their hugs and lets Yixing and Jongdae hold him instead, tries to convey how much he loves them into the press of his hands around his boyfriends’ bodies.
They go back to Junmyeon’s apartment in the interim between the graduation ceremony and their respective graduation dinners, and Junmyeon pushes Jongdae into the wall and pours all of the kisses he’s been saving up all day onto his boyfriend’s lips. Yixing laughs at their dishevelled appearances when he sees them after his shower, prodding Junmyeon in the direction of the bathroom with fond exasperation. When Junmyeon glances back at the pair, Yixing is on his knees with a predatory smirk on his face as he undoes Jongdae’s belt, and Junmyeon laughs.
***
“Did you guys even try to work things out?”
Jongdae looks at Junmyeon guiltily. He’s been wearing the same face ever since he told Junmyeon the truth about him and Yixing. The expression is enough of an answer, either way.
“Junmyeon…” Jongdae says, but Junmyeon brushes him off.
“No, you two probably didn’t even try. You’re still not trying; you’re both too proud and arrogant to get over your egos and just get over the problem—“
“It’s not about that—“
“When will you two grow up and realise that this relationship is bigger than just the two of you having some stupid little argument and letting it get to your heads?”
Jongdae’s eyebrows knit together, half-annoyed and half-apologetic. “Get off my back, god. Yixing can fucking apologize first.”
“See, this is why we’re in this mess in the first place!” Junmyeon says, his temper flaring.
Jongdae goes to say something, then thinks better of it, and just lets out a frustrated huff.
***
”You’re always with him,” Jongdae all but whines.
"Yixing is leaving in four weeks, Dae,” Junmyeon points out, Handing his boyfriend a bowl to dry up. “I thought you would be right next to me trying to make the most of the time we have left with him.”
Jongdae doesn’t take the bowl and crosses his arms instead, “Yeah, but last time I checked, there were three people in this relationship.”
Junmyeon looks at Jongdae incredulously, “What is that supposed to mean? And you’re never with us, you’re always busy and you don’t make time for us.”
Jongdae adopts a defensive stance. “Oh, so it’s like that, is it? It’s my fault?"
Junmyeon takes the tea towel from Jongdae and dries the bowl, “That’s not what I said or meant. Are you trying to say I don’t love you as much as I love Yixing? Because that’s not true.”
Jongdae sighs and leans against the counter with his eyes closed. His voice wavers with frustration, is frayed around the edges when he speaks, “I just…feel left out. I’m always in class or doing assignments or studying, and. It’s just you and Yixing don’t have anything to do right now and you have so much free time and—“
Junmyeon gathers Jongdae into his arms when his boyfriend’s voice cracks. “Jongdae…” Junmyeon soothes. “Hey, don’t cry, I’m sorry, it’s fine. It’s fine, I swear, I’m sorry.”
Junmyeon holds Jongdae and wonders where it all went wrong.
***
“How’s the study going?”
Yixing looks up, and there’s that soft smile Junmyeon loves. “Yeah, it’s really good. I’m studying with two others, but they’re in different labs, so I don’t really know what their projects are about.”
Junmyeon smiles, happy that things seem to be working out for Yixing well. “Who are the others in your lab?"
“Just my supervisor, Mi. He’s awesome, but he’s so tall, it’s ridiculous. And there’s this PhD student, Yifan, who’s also teaching me a bit, because his thesis is similar to mine. And he’s also really tall. I feel so short.”
Yixing laughs, and Junmyeon’s heart squeezes with pained affection, missing his boyfriend and his gentle warmth. Junmyeon doesn’t voice his thoughts, however, and lets Yixing continue to tell him about his experiences so far now that he’s back in China.
“Love you, Junma,” Yixing tells him before he ends the call, and Junmyeon forces a smile.
He tells Yixing he loves him back and he doesn’t say please come back home.
***
Junmyeon smiles weakly, “Call me, yeah? And text me, and Jongdae—“
At Yixing’s twisted expression, Junmyeon abandons that tangent of conversation, albeit hesitantly. His hand twitches at his side, wanting to pull Yixing close and kiss him until his lungs are burning, but he can’t, not in the middle of the airport.
Yixing looks so adorable, bundled up in his coat with a thick scarf swallowing his neck. Interestingly enough, it’s the scarf Jongdae bought him for his birthday. Junmyeon isn’t completely sure what to think of the gesture.
“Whenever you want to videochat, let me know, okay?” Junmyeon can’t resist reaching up in a feigned attempt to adjust Yixing’s scarf, merely looking for any excuse to touch him.
Yixing folds a hand over Junmyeon’s gently, halting his movements, and when Junmyeon looks at him, Yixing’s eyes are dark. Junmyeon’s smile falters, and before he knows it, Yixing’s dragging him to the nearest bathroom. The press of Yixing’s mouth, so warm over his, shocks a moan out of Junmyeon. Yixing’s hands grasp Junmyeon’s waist possessively, lips hot and heavy and desperate, and Junmyeon clings to him and tries to keep up.
***
It’s awkward.
Junmyeon, though reluctant to admit, guilt-trips Jongdae into going a videocall with Yixing.
“I’m calling an ultimatum,” Junmyeon announces to break the awkward silence that meets him. Both of his boyfriends turn to him in interest, so Junmyeon launches ahead, “You two get over yourselves and fix your issues with each other, or I’m breaking up with both of you.”
“You can’t be serious,” Yixing says immediately, then he narrows his gaze at Jongdae. “Did you put him up to this?”
“Excuse me?” Jongdae says, affronted. “No, did you?”
“No, this is something you would do,” Yixing says venomously, and Junmyeon sighs.
“Do I have to stay here and mediate this conversation, or are you two going to act like the grown men you are and sort this out in a mature fashion?”
Yixing and Jongdae fall silent, and Junmyeon feels irritated at himself for sounding like an overbearing parent. This conversation has started off pleasantly already. Junmyeon figuratively straps himself in for a long ride.
***
Jongdae hardly visits anymore, too caught up in assessments to spend more than an hour or two at Junmyeon’s apartment each day. Junmyeon tries to optimise the short durations, making lunch or dinner for the two of them.
The majority of his days are spent revising for when he starts graduate law school, or working, both keeping him busy. Neither occupation detracts from the discomfort he feels about the state of his relationship, however. Jongdae and Yixing still aren’t talking, and
“Why do you hate each other?” Junmyeon asks Jongdae, confused.
“Want you,” Jongdae mumbles, ignoring him to focus on unbuttoning Junmyeon’s shirt instead.
“Answer me,” Junmyeon says as Jongdae tugs at clothes.
Something must be different in the tone he uses, because Jongdae halts in his movements and looks up at Junmyeon. He sits up and frowns, “Yixing?”
Junmyeon sits up as well, opting to stay silent and wait for him to explain. Jongdae ducks his head and toys with one of Junmyeon’s buttons, teeth worrying his lower lip. The movement reminds Junmyeon of Yixing’s habit of biting his lips to stop himself from laughing when Jongdae blows raspberries on his stomach.
“We—“ Jongdae grimaces and looks away. “We just.”
Junmyeon presses forward, soothes a hand over Jongdae’s shoulder. “This isn’t like you two. It’s been…almost a wholemonth. And you two are still fighting. Just tell me, please—it can’t be that bad that you two stop talking to each other forever, really—”
“We broke up,” Jongdae blurts out, the words slapping Junmyeon across the face.
“You what?”
***
“Wasn’t I enough?” Junmyeon blurts out. “I thought…I thought you would stay. It’s selfish, but I thought you…maybe you’d change your mind and stay in Korea.”
Yixing is silent for a long time, no doubt wearing an expression that is a mixture of sorrow and pity. Junmyeon is sad and tired and drunk. Jongdae is currently unreachable, presumably stuck on campus somewhere studying. Maybe even passed out on his notes from exhaustion, given his current lack of a sleep schedule.
Junmyeon tries not to think ill of his boyfriend, because it’s a busy time for Jongdae, and he doesn’t want to use up time that could be better spent cramming for exams. Either way, the food has grown stone cold, and it will be absolute hell to clean the dishes if he doesn’t deal with them right now, but he’s too depressed to think of anything apart from how long it will take him to reach the bottom of the wine bottle. He’ll just do the dishes in the morning when he’s sober, even if he is incredibly hungover.
“Junmyeon…” Yixing says finally. “I was always going. You knew that from Day One.”
“I know,” Junmyeon says dejectedly. “I’m sorry, I’m just drunk.”
“Go to sleep, babe,” Yixing sighs.
Junmyeon swallows, grips the phone tighter. He doesn’t want to say goodbye yet, because this is the first time he’s been able to contact Yixing all week, the other spending all his time with Yifan doing experiments. “I miss you,” Junmyeon whispers before he can stop himself.
“I miss you too, Junma,” Yixing replies, just as subdued.
“Do you?” Junmyeon says. “Do you miss me like I miss you? Your hands in mine, your warmth against my back, your smile. I miss touching you. I hate having to see you through a camera, I want the real thing.”
“Me too.”
Junmyeon scruffs a hand through his hair. “I miss you. I miss your hands in my hair, and I miss your skin. I’m so fucking celibate, Xing, I haven’t had sex in weeks, I’m—so frustrated, and you’re not here, you’re not to here to help me, fuck—“
Junmyeon fumbles with his fly with one hand and gets his pants open, proud that he still has some semblance of coordination, despite the fact that he is incredibly inebriated. When he voices a soft sound of pleasure, Yixing inhales sharply, “Junma? What are you doing?”
“Thinking of you,” Junmyeon whispers. “Of your hands on my cock, or you sucking me off—oh—“
“Junma,” Yixing says, voice breathy. “Seriously, what are you doing—“
“What do you think?” Junmyeon almost snaps, but he’s too distracted by the tentative movements of his hand to add any conviction to what he says, because it’s been so long.”If you were here…god, as soon as you come back, I’m going to give you the best blowjob of your life—ugh—“
Yixing answers with a gentle moan, and Junmyeon feels a frisson of excitement knowing Yixing has opted to join in rather than hang up or try and talk him out of phone sex. Junmyeon lets his eyes fall shut as another groan falls from his lips and lets Yixing take charge, dictate his movements, lets Yixing tell him about all the dirty things he wants to do to him.
“I want you on your back, arms tied above your head as I ride you, use you, use your cock to get me off as you lie there, helpless, and when you’re close, I’ll slow it right down and start all over again, turn you into an absolute mess—“
“Yixing—“ Junmyeon gasps, grips the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm that crept up on him without warning.
“Don’t you dare come yet—“ Yixing growls, and Junmyeon’s gut melts with arousal at his tone. “Suck on your fingers, Junma, like how you would suck me as I sit on your shoulders.”
Junmyeon whimpers, but follows Yixing’s orders, stretches his lips over three fingers and slowly starts stroking himself when Yixing prompts him. It continues like this, Yixing listening for when Junmyeon’s breathing quickens and telling him to slow down, telling him to let his impending orgasm melt away, and the frustration builds and builds and builds.
Junmyeon’s voice is muffled by the fingers in his mouth, ears attuned to the slick yet faint noises of Yixing jerking himself off on the other side. Yixing utters a low fuck and Junmyeon’s voice is high and reedy when he comes in a blinding rush.
***
“You two break up and not tell me?” Junmyeon snaps as soon as Yixing picks up.
Yixing sighs, voice tinny, “Junma…”
“No, something this big happens and neither of you two own up? How did this even happen? And what does that mean for me—where do I fit into the picture, huh?”
Another sigh echoes down the line. “I’m sorry.”
“’Sorry’? ‘Sorry’ doesn’t fix this,” Junmyeon seethes, unable to believe his two boyfriends mutually broke up with each other without telling him. “What were you two thinking? I don’t get a say in any of this?”
“Junma, I don’t know, okay?” Yixing huffs. “It just. It happened, okay, and that’s it.”
Junmyeon laughs in disbelief, “What, so you two think you can forget the other exists and everything will be swell? That you two can, what, keep dating me, and that I’ll be okay with it?”
“Well you’ve been fine with it so far,” Yixing snaps.
“Well I didn’t know the whole story!” Junmyeon scrubs a weary hand over his face.
Yixing says sadly, “I’m sorry.”
“What—why—how did you two even manage to get to the point of breaking up?” Junmyeon sighs heavily, finding everything too difficult to process, and braces himself for the worst when Yixing answers.
***
Things fall apart. Junmyeon barely sees Jongdae, and hardly hears from Yixing. He starts law school finds himself swept up in full-time study again, and there’s no time to fix the relationship, no time left to repair it.
He tries, he really tries to reach out and spend quality time with Jongdae, but it’s hard. They hardly touch each other, because Jongdae’s already out of the apartment by the time Junmyeon wakes up, and that’s if he stays over at all. More often than not, Yixing’s phone goes to voicemail. on the rare occasions that Junmyeon catches him, he’s so tired that he falls asleep twenty minutes into the conversation.
Junmyeon and Jongdae don’t sleep together. Junmyeon finds it hard to initiate physical contact with Jongdae, feeling guilty for giving physical affection to Jongdae when he can’t do the same for Yixing. Being such an advocate for equality has him in a sticky situation, because he doesn’t want Jongdae to feel neglected, but then again, the idea of sex with Jongdae is so strange given Yixing is nowhere near them to join in.
Jongdae eventually calls the shots, finding Junmyeon in his laundry searching for a missing sock.
“Jun? Let's take a break,” he says, catching him off guard.
Junmyeon turns, frowns. We’ve kind of already been taking a break for the past two months, his brain unhelpfully supplies. “…Um. Why?”
Jongdae's holding his university bag, and it’s brimming with clothes. Junmyeon’s frown deepens at the sight. Jongdae shrugs uncomfortably. “Just a week, maybe. I just need some time to think. So I'll just stay at my place for a bit.”
“You…you’re taking all of your stuff?” Junmyeon gestures to Jongdae’s bag helplessly.
A slight flash of irritation passes over Jongdae’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “Yeah. Most of it. It’s not like you really need it.”
Junmyeon nods blankly and feels a lot like a crumpled ball of paper, “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Jongdae says, unsure. He looks like he’s ready to bolt.
“I guess I’ll. See you, then.” Junmyeon has one hand raised in a half-hearted farewell, throat tight and ribcage pounding forlornly.
Jongdae swallows, pulls at his bag strap uncomfortably, then spins on his heel and leaves without another word. Junmyeon forgets about the sock and flops on the couch forlornly. It feels like a breakup, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
He tries calling Yixing later on that night, but he only gets Yixing’s voicemail. Junmyeon sighs, not knowing what he really expected anyway, left hanging by both of the people he cherishes most.