Work Text:
For Jun, first, it’s in the small things. It wasn't in the missed calls, those have become normal. Not in the unread messages, those too. But in the way Dylan stops trying to fill the silence.
There used to be voice notes. Random photos. A blurry picture of a coffee cup with “tastes like shit but I thought of you”. Now it’s just… nothing. Clean chat, functional mostly work-related.
“Recording moved to 6” Dylan texts.
Jun replies “Got it.”
That’s their whole conversation for the day.
They still see each other. In passing. In hallways, in studios, in dressing rooms filled with people and noise. Jun is halfway into makeup when Dylan walks in, hoodie pulled low, eyes tired. Their gazes meet for half a second, just enough to register you are alive before someone calls Jun’s name and someone hands Dylan a mic.
No kiss, no touch, not even a “did you eat?”
It’s not awkward. It’s normal.
The dorm used to feel small because of how much they were in each other’s space. Now it feels too big.
Jun leaves before sunrise most days. Dylan comes back when the sky is already pale again. Their schedules overlap just enough for traces, Jun finds Dylan’s jacket thrown on the couch, still faintly warm. Dylan finds a cup in the sink Jun must have used hours ago.
Just the proof of existence, nothing more.
One night, Jun gets back earlier than usual. past midnight but early for him. The house is dark except for the studio room light under the door.
He pauses. For a second, he almost walks past it. Almost. But something pulls him in.
Dylan is there, headphones around his neck, staring at the screen like he has been stuck on the same second of audio for hours.
He doesn’t look up when Jun enters.
“Hey” Jun says.
It sounds… unfamiliar. Like he is testing out a word he hasn’t used in a while.
Dylan hums, not even turning. “You are back early.”
“Yeah.”
Jun leans against the doorframe for a moment. Dylan clicks something on the screen, rewinds, plays, stops. Over and over.
There is a hundred things Jun could say.
Did you eat?
You look tired.
Come sleep.
I miss you.
Instead, what comes out is “You should rest.”
Dylan lets out a quiet breath, almost a laugh but not really. “Can’t.”
Jun notices the distance like a physical thing now. Something heavier, unknown that Jun doesn’t wanna name it. Or couldn’t.
“I think…” Jun starts, then stops.
Dylan finally turns his chair slowly like the movement itself takes effort. His eyes are still Dylan typa sharp but there is something dulled underneath. “What?”
Jun swallows. He didn’t plan this. There is no script. Just a feeling that if he doesn’t say it now, it will rot inside him.
“I think we already broke up.”
The words land Too softly to be true. It shouldn’t be here in the first place but it’s here, hanging like cruellest truth for them.
Dylan stares at him. He is not even shocked, not even slightly angry. Then he nods once, like Jun just said something obvious.
“Yeah” he says.
That’s it. No why. No since when. Because they both know.
Jun lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. It doesn’t feel like relief. It feels like confirming something he didn’t want to name. “We didn’t even....” Jun lets out a humorless huff. “.... fight”
Dylan shrugs, eyes dropping back to the screen. “Fighting requires time.”
Jun steps further into the room now. “Do you want to… fix it?” he asks. The way he asks, he wasn’t desperate, not even hopeful. It’s just… a question that deserves to exist.
Dylan goes still.
For a moment, Jun thinks maybe.... maybe Dylan will say something, something worth a fight. A fight to stay, to keep, to hold whatever they have been having.
But then Dylan leans back, rubbing his face. “I don’t know how” he admits. “I barely manage to sleep. I don’t even remember the last time I sat down and just…” he gestures vaguely, “talked. About anything that isn’t work.”
Jun nods slowly. “Same.”
Funny how two people who used to be everything to each other, realizing they don’t even fit into each other’s days anymore.
“So… this is it?” Jun asks, softer now.
Dylan looks at him again. There is something in his eyes this time. Not love but not nothing either. “…Yeah.” A pause. Then, almost as an afterthought “We will be okay” Dylan adds.
Jun gives a small nod. “Yeah.”
They don’t hug. That would feel too intimate. They don’t shake hands either, that would feel ridiculous.
Jun just turns. “Get some sleep” he says.
Dylan huffs lightly. “You too.”
Jun’s hand is already on the doorknob when....
“Jun.”
It stops him instantly. Dylan doesn’t call him like that for so long.
Jun turns slow. “Yeah?”
Dylan hasn’t moved from his chair but he is not looking at the screen now. He is looking at Jun properly, like he is forcing himself to hold the moment still for once. “Are you… free tomorrow?” Dylan asks.
Jun blinks, caught off guard. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Dylan swallows, glancing away for a second before his eyes come back “Like....an hour. Maybe.”
An hour. It sounds almost absurd, after years. Like they are negotiating a meeting, not… whatever this is.
Jun lets out a small breath. “I think I can make time. Why?”
Dylan’s fingers tap once against the arm of his chair, a nervous habit Jun knows too well. Then... “We should go on a date.”
Jun just stares at him.
Dylan huffs, he knows how it sounds. “One last one” he adds “Before we… end things properly.”
Something tight pulls in Jun’s chest. A date. After everything they just said. After admitting it’s already over.
“…You are serious?” Jun asks.
Dylan nods. “Yeah.”
There is no joke in his voice, something raw and oddly calm considered how the situation is.
“We never got a proper ending” Dylan continues. “No time, remember?” A faint, almost bitter smile tugs at his lips. “At least this way it’s… intentional.”
Jun looks at him for a long second. He should say no. It would be easier, cleaner, less confusing than reopening something they just closed.
But.... “…Okay” Jun says.
Dylan’s shoulders drop, just slightly. Relief? maybe. Or just acknowledgment. “Okay” he echoes.
“What kind of date?” Jun asks after a moment, leaning lightly against the door instead of leaving.
Dylan thinks. “Nothing big” he says. “We don’t have time for big.” A pause. “Just… normal.”
Jun almost laughs at that. Normal. They don’t even remember what that looks like anymore.
“Alright” Jun says. “Text me the time.”
Dylan nods. “I will.”
Jun opens the door this time for real. But before stepping out, he hesitates. “…Dylan.”
“Yeah?”
Jun doesn’t turn back fully. Just enough so his voice doesn’t feel like it’s coming from a stranger. “Don’t work all night.”
Dylan smiles softly. “No promises.”
That almost feels familiar.
Jun leaves him there. The door clicks shut. Inside, Dylan sits there for a long time, staring at nothing. An hour. He asked for an hour like it’s all they are worth now. Like that’s all he is allowed to want.
And outside, in the hallway, Jun doesn’t move right away either. He stands there, hand still half-curled like it remembers the doorknob. A date...... One last...... It shouldn’t matter this much. But it does the most.
Dylan gets there little early.
He is not even sure why. Old habit, maybe. Back when dates meant something you prepared for, something you looked forward to. He leans against the side of his car in the parking lot, hands tucked into his jacket, eyes flicking up every time headlights sweep past.
6:40.
Their “one hour” was supposed to start at 7. He checks his phone. No messages.
7:05.
He tells himself traffic is bad. Shoots run late. It’s normal.
7:20.
He debates texting. Types where are you? …then deletes it. Types take your time… deletes that too.
He settles for nothing.
7:47.
The parking lot is quieter now. The evening rush thinning out into scattered cars and distant engines. Dylan shifts his weight, glancing at the restaurant across the street. Warm lights inside... Not so reflecting how dark inside him right now. People laughing through the glass, he wished he could too.
He had booked a table. Nothing fancy tho. Just… somewhere they used to like. Somewhere that still felt like them.
He checks the time again.
8:12.
His reservation has probably gone by now.
8:23.
A car pulls in too fast. Dylan straightens before he even realizes he is doing it.
Jun practically stumbles out of it, slamming the door, already halfway running.
“Dylan....” he has out of breath, hair a mess, makeup half-worn from the long day. “I’m so....I’m sorry, I got stuck at the shoot, they kept pushing the last scene and then...” He stops when he sees Dylan’s face.
He is not angry, nor upset.
“It’s okay” Dylan says.
Jun blinks. “No, it’s not...I’m over an hour late, I should have...my battery died ..”
“It’s okay” Dylan repeats, a little softer this time.
Jun’s words falter.
There is something in Dylan’s tone that makes apologizing feel… misplaced.
Dylan shrugs lightly, glancing past him toward the street. “Isn’t this kind of the reason?”
Jun frowns. “What?”
“This.” Dylan gestures vaguely at the parking lot, at Jun still catching his breath, at the space between them that feels both too small and too big. “No time.”
The words aren’t sharp, they don’t need to be.
Jun goes quiet.
Dylan nods toward the restaurant. “Reservation has gone anyway.”
Jun follows his gaze.
The place is still glowing, still full but it doesn’t feel like it belongs to them anymore. Like they missed their window and it quietly moved on without them.
“I can try to...” Jun starts, pulling his phone out instinctively. “Maybe they still have a... ”
“Jun.”
He stops again.
Dylan shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
Silence settles between them, thicker than last night somehow.
Jun steps closer, slower now. “You have been waiting long” statement or question depend of how the listener feel. For Jun it was more that this...more than anything.
Dylan hesitates for half a second. “…Not really.”
lie.
Jun knows it. But he doesn’t call it out. “Then let’s just go somewhere else” Jun says. “Anywhere. We still have time.”
The words hang there. We still have time.
Dylan looks at him really looks this time. There is something almost fragile in his expression now. “Do we?” he asks quietly.
Jun opens his mouth. And closes it. Because....An hour. They planned an hour. And they have already spent most of it… like this.
A car passes behind them, headlights briefly washing over everything before fading again.
Dylan exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s okay” he says again, softer now. “We tried.”
Tried.
Like it’s already past tense.
Jun steps closer anyway. Close enough now that if things were different, if this were any other time, his hand would have already found Dylan’s sleeve, his wrist, something.
But it doesn’t now. They just stand there.
“I didn’t want this to be how it goes” Jun admits, voice low.
Dylan gives a small, almost tired smile. “It isn’t.”
Jun looks at him, confused.
Dylan gestures between them. “This is exactly how it goes.”
Missed timing........ Almosts. ......Not quite enough.
For a moment, neither of them move.
Then Jun lets out a slow breath. “We can still sit somewhere” he says. “Even if it’s just the car. And talk. That was the point, right?”
Dylan considers it. “…Yeah” Dylan says after a second. “Okay.”
They don’t start the engine right away. For a while, they just sit there, doors closed, the world muted outside, both of them staring ahead like they are waiting for something to tell them what to do next.
It doesn’t come.
So Jun exhales and finally turns the key. He offers to take Dylan's car, also that he will drive.
“Pizza?” he asks, like it’s the most neutral thing he can offer.
Dylan nods. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
Just… something to fill the hour.
The drive is short. Familiar roads, familiar turns. Muscle memory more than thought. They don’t put music on. The silence isn’t awkward exactly, it’s just… full. Like every word they could say is sitting there, unsaid, pressing in from all sides you could already feel suffocated.
Jun pulls up to a small place they have been to more times than they can count. He doesn’t ask what Dylan wants. Just gets out, runs in whispering “the usual?”
Dylan stays in the car, watching the glass storefront, the blur of movement inside. He tells himself it doesn’t matter what Jun orders.
It’s just food.
Jun comes back a few minutes later, a little out of breath again, carrying a box. He settles into the driver’s seat, hands it over without much ceremony. “Careful, it’s hot.”
Dylan opens it. It’s his usual. Same toppings. Same half-and-half split they used to argue over before settling into a routine neither of them questioned anymore.
Jun doesn’t say anything about it. Just reaches for a slice.
They eat at first without any conversation. Just the quiet sounds of cardboard shifting, the soft pull of cheese, the occasional exhales filling the quietness
Halfway through his second slice, Dylan slows. His gaze drifts, not to Jun’s face but to his hands.
Jun’s eating absentmindedly, eyes somewhere else, like he is not fully in the moment.
Dylan looks back at his own slice.
Then, without thinking too hard about it, he pinches off the line of corn along the edges and leans over just slightly, placing them onto Jun’s slice.
Jun blinks looking down. For a second, he doesn’t react. Then “…You still do that?” he asks, voice quieter than before.
Dylan shrugs, like it’s nothing. “You like them.”
Jun stares at the corn for a moment longer than necessary. Then takes a bite. Jun chews slowly, then glances at Dylan. “You remembered” he says.
Dylan huffs faintly. “It’s not hard. I remember a lot of things,” he adds.
Jun looks away first. Out the windshield, where the night stretches. “Yeah” he murmurs. “Me too.”
And that’s the problem, isn’t it? They remember everything. What the other likes. What they hate. How they take their coffee, what they order without asking, the small habits that built themselves over years. All the details are still there. Perfectly intact.
Just… not the time.
They keep eating. Every now and then, their hands brush when reaching into the box. Neither of them pulls away quickly. Neither of them lingers, either.
There is too much to say.
Why didn’t we try harder?
When did it start slipping?
Did you miss me?
And at the same time, nothing that wouldn’t circle back to the same answer.
Jun closes the box when they are done, even though there is still a slice left.
Neither of them reaches for it. As letting it rest there will buy them more time.
“Thanks” Dylan says after a while.
Jun nods. “Yeah.”
The car feels smaller now. Or maybe it’s just that the hour is almost gone.
Dylan leans back, head resting against the seat, eyes half-lidded. “This was nice” he says.
It shouldn’t sound like goodbye. But it does.
Jun grips the steering wheel lightly, thumb tracing the worn edge. “…Yeah” he agrees. “It was.”
During the drive back, the pizza box sits between them, a faint warmth still trapped inside. Jun drives slower than usual, like stretching the road might stretch the time too.
Dylan doesn’t rush him. He just leans his head against the window, watching the blur of streetlights pass, one after another, like something counting down neither of them says out loud.
By the time they reach the house, it’s late. Most of the lights are off. The place feels still, almost unfamiliar in its quiet.
Jun parks and turns off the engine.
For a second, neither of them moves.
Then Dylan exhales, pushing the door open. “Well” he says, voice light in that practiced way, “that was the date.”
Jun’s chest tightens at how easily he says it.
Dylan steps out, stretches a little like he is shaking off the night, then adds, almost casually, “Guess that’s the end.”
Like it’s just a schedule wrapping up. Like it doesn’t carry years inside it.
Jun follows him out. Watches as Dylan heads toward the door, already slipping back into routine, into something familiar…..Distance.
Inside, Dylan toes off his shoes, barely glancing back. “I will be in the studio” he says, like he always does. Like nothing about tonight changes that.
He is already halfway down the hall when “Dylan.”
Jun’s voice stops him.
Dylan turns slightly. “Yeah?”
Jun’s standing near the entrance still, keys loose in his hand, expression unreadable for a moment.
“Don’t” Jun says.
Dylan frowns. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t go work.”
Dylan lets out a small breath, almost a reflex. “Jun, I have…”
“Come to bed.”
That stops him completely because of how Jun says.
Dylan turns fully now, searching Jun’s face like he is trying to understand what this is.
“We just…” he gestures faintly between them, “ended things.”
“I know.”
“And you want me to just… what? Sleep like nothing happened?”
Jun shakes his head, stepping a little closer. “No. I want you to not go sit in that room alone tonight.”
Dylan looks away for a second, jaw tightening. “I’m used to it.”
“I know” Jun says. “That’s the problem.”
“You don’t have to” Jun adds, quieter now. “I’m not…..” he exhales, searching for the right words, “I’m not trying to undo anything.”
Dylan’s gaze flicks back to him. “Then what are you doing?”
Jun hesitates. Then answers honestly. “…I don’t want tonight to end with you walking away from me like that.”
Dylan’s throat works slightly. Because that’s exactly what he was about to do. What he has been doing for months, without even thinking about it.
“It’s just sleep” Jun says, almost like he is reassuring both of them. “That’s all.”
Dylan still says no. “I will sleep after I finish this track.”
Jun is standing in that place “Dylan. I’m serious. Go sleep.” Jun stares at him for a long second.
Dylan doesn’t show interest anymore “You don’t get to suddenly care what time I sleep because we had pizza.”
Jun’s expression flickers, wounded for half a second before he smooth it over. “You think this is sudden?”
Dylan sighs, rubbing his temples. “Jun…”
“I’m tired too” Jun cuts in. “So I’m going to bed before I say something stupid.”
Dylan finally glances at him.
Jun looks wrecked, messy, dark circles visible now that his makeup is gone, shoulders slumped from the endless shoot.
Dylan’s irritation softens despite himself. “Then go sleep” he says, gentler.
Jun holds his gaze for another second. Then nods once. And leaves.
The bedroom feels too big. Jun lies on his side of the bed staring at the ceiling. The sheets are cold. The muffled sound of music leaking from under the studio door down the hall.
He closes his eyes, opens them again, checks the clock.
Twelve minutes. Then nineteen. Then twenty-seven.
Jun sits up abruptly. “Fuck this.”
Dylan is still exactly where Jun always finds him. Hunched over his desk, headphones half-on, clicking through tracks with tired eyes.
He startles when the studio door slams open. “What the… ”
Jun marches straight in without any warning. He reaches down, grabs Dylan by the wrist and pulls.
“Jun…”
“Get up.”
Dylan stumbles out of the chair. “What are you doing?”
“You are coming to bed.”
Dylan stares at him like Jun has fully lost his mind. “I told you I’m working.”
“And I told you to come sleep.”
“You don’t get to order me arou….”
The rest of the sentence cuts off into a shocked noise when Jun abruptly bends, hooks an arm behind Dylan’s knees and another around his back… and lifts him clean off the ground.
“JUN…”
Dylan flails instantly. “What the hell… put me down.”
Jun throws him over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. Dylan’s world tips sideways. His desk chair spins slightly from where he got yanked out of it. “Are you insane?” Dylan yelps, pounding uselessly against Jun’s back.
“Yes.” Jun sounds deeply unimpressed.
“Jun”
“You have had plenty of chances to walk to bed yourself.”
“This is humiliating”
“No one is awake.”
“That’s not the point”
Jun adjusts his grip on Dylan’s legs and keeps walking down the hallway like this is perfectly normal behavior.
Dylan is half mortified, half furious. And embarrassingly….half trying not to laugh. “Put me down before I kick you in the face.”
“You can try.”
“Jun”
Jun shoulders open the bedroom door and drops Dylan onto the mattress, with enough dramatic flair that Dylan bounces once.
Dylan glares up at him. “I hate you.”
Jun climbs onto the bed just long enough to box Dylan in before he can escape. “No, you don’t.”
Dylan opens his mouth. Closes it. Because annoyingly….he really doesn’t.
Jun’s breathing is heavier now, not from effort, that man takes a good care of his body to be exhausted by Dylan's weight but emotion. His eyes look glassy with exhaustion. And something else. “You keep running back to that studio like it will save you from feeling anything” Jun says quietly.
Dylan’s expression shifts.
Jun continues before he can interrupt. “And maybe work is why we fell apart. But I’m so tired of watching you choose it every single time.”
Dylan goes still. “That’s not fair.”
“I know.”
Jun’s voice cracks slightly. “But neither is this.”
That steals all the fight out of Dylan instantly.
Jun looks away first. Suddenly seeming embarrassed by his own outburst. “…Just sleep here tonight” he murmurs. “Please.”
No longer a demand but a plea. Raw and exhausted coming out of Jun's throat as throns slitting his tongue still he wanna say it. “Tomorrow you can go back to pretending this doesn’t hurt.”
Dylan’s chest tightens painfully. “Jun…”
“But tonight” Jun whispers, “I don’t want to wake up and realize that was our last night.”
Dylan’s anger dissolves so fast it leaves him dizzy. Because beneath all Jun’s stubbornness that’s what this really was… Fear.
Dylan lies flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. Jun is beside him, one arm thrown over his eyes like he regrets every impulsive decision that brought them here.
Dylan speaks first this time “You cannot just throw people over your shoulder when you lose arguments.”
Jun doesn’t move. “You were being unreasonable.”
“I was working.”
“You are always working.”
Dylan turns his head. “Excuse me?”
Jun sits up now, frustration surfacing again. “You heard me.”
“That’s rich coming from someone who practically lives on film sets.”
Jun laughs once “At least I try to come home.”
“Oh, please.” Dylan sits up too. “Try? You stumble in at two in the morning half dead and call that trying?”
“I still came back.”
“And then leave before I wake up”
“Because I have work”
“So do I”
Their voices bounce off the walls. Years of swallowed irritation finally finding oxygen.
Jun throws his hands up. “You think I didn’t notice? Every single time I had one free night, you were locked in that stupid studio.”
Dylan’s eyes flash. “Because if I don’t finish songs on time, people lose money”
“And if I reject schedules, people replace me”
There is anger in their voice and beneath it .....grief.
Dylan laughs bitterly. “Look at us.”
Jun looks away.
“This is probably the longest conversation we have had in months” Dylan mutters.
That completely kills the momentum. Because he is right and that’s pathetic.
Jun’s shoulders slump. “There were so many times I wanted to fight with you.”
Dylan looks at him.
Jun’s voice gets quieter. “That day three months ago.”
Dylan frowns. “What day?”
“You forgot.” Jun laughs softly at Dylan’s expression. “Exactly.” Jun rubs his face. “I had gotten my schedule cleared early. For once. I bought food. Your favorite noodles from that place you like.”
Jun continues staring at the sheets. “I was gonna surprise you.”
Dylan remembers now. The container he found in the fridge the next morning. He thought it belonged to someone else.
“I waited for hours” Jun says. "You texted at 3 a.m. saying you had to stay at the studio.”
Dylan’s chest tightens.
Jun swallows. “I was so angry.”
His jaw clenches. “I drove there fully prepared to scream at you.”
Dylan stares. “You drove there?”
Jun nods once. “I had an entire speech ready.”
Despite everything, Dylan almost smiles. “That sounds terrifying.”
Jun huffs weakly. “It was really dramatic.” Then his expression falls. “When I got there…” His voice thinning “You were asleep at your desk.” Jun looks at him now. Eyes are glassy in the dark. “You looked horrible.”
Dylan’s face crumples slightly.
Jun continues. “There were energy drinks everywhere. Your neck looked like it hurt. You still had your headphones on.” He laughs shakily. “And I just…” His voice breaks. “I couldn’t wake you up to fight.”
Dylan feels sick. “What did you do?”
Jun shrugs. “Put a blanket over you.”
Dylan’s eyes burn.
Jun looks down. “Then I sat there for twenty minutes trying to remember why I was angry.”........“I couldn’t.”
Dylan presses a hand over his mouth. Because he remembers waking up and confused with a blanket he swore wasn’t his. He remembers wondering if one of the members covered him. He never asked.
“There were times too” Dylan whispers.
Jun looks at him.
Dylan laughs wiping moisture from his nose “God, there were so many.” He wipes his face angrily. “That one award show?”
Jun frowns. “What about it?”
“You looked so exhausted backstage.” Dylan shakes his head. “You were smiling for cameras but you looked like you were gonna collapse.”
Jun remembers......barely.
“I wanted to pull you into a room and scream at you for overworking yourself.” Dylan laughs through tears. “Then you fell asleep sitting upright while getting your makeup touched up.”
Jun blinks. “What?”
“You were literally asleep.”
Despite everything, Jun lets out a startled laugh.
Dylan starts crying harder because hearing that laugh feels cruelly familiar. “I just stood there like an idiot” Dylan whispers. “And all I could think was…” His voice cracks. “you looked so tired.”
They stare at each other through tears now. Both realizing the same awful truth. It was never lack of love. It was misplaced mercy. They kept sparing each other difficult conversations because the other looked exhausted. And in doing that they let everything rot quietly.
Dylan’s voice trembles. “So why did we talk about becoming exes instead?”
Jun breaks. “Because I walked into that room tonight ready to ask if you still wanted me." Jun laughs bitterly through tears. “And then you looked exhausted.”....“And I thought… maybe loving you means letting you go rest.”
Jun starts crying hard, his smooth voice turned devastated. “Dylan…”
Dylan shakes his head violently. “I didn’t want to break up.”
Jun reaches for him instantly. “Then why did you say yes?”
“Because you sounded so tired.”
That shatters whatever restraint Jun had left. He grabs Dylan and pulls him into him so hard they nearly fall off the bed. They cling to each other like drowning men, both furious and heartbroken. Both realizing they almost lost everything because they loved each other gently at the wrong times.
They cling to each other so tightly it almost hurts but neither cares.
Jun’s face is buried against Dylan’s neck, breathing broken and hot against his skin. Dylan’s fingers are twisted in Jun’s shirt so hard the fabric strains.
They are both crying too hard to look remotely composed. This mess of tears and accusations and desperate holding is somehow the most honest they have been in a long time.
“I hate you” Dylan chokes out.
Jun lets out a wet laugh that sounds wrecked. “You literally just said you didn’t want to break up.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you hate me?”
Dylan pulls back just enough to glare at him through blurry eyes. “For carrying me like a sack of rice.”
Jun stares. Then laughs, an actual laugh this time.
Dylan starts laughing too.
It lasts maybe five seconds before both of them start crying again.
Jun presses his forehead against Dylan’s. “So what now?”
Dylan sniffles. “I don’t know.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“Well excuse me, I didn’t expect our breakup date to end with being kidnapped into bed.”
Jun groans. “I said I was sorry.”
“You did not.”
“I’m saying it now.”
Jun wipes under Dylan’s eyes with his thumb. Then Dylan does the same for him.
“We can’t keep doing this” Jun whispers.
Dylan nods immediately. “I know.”
“No more pretending everything is okay because the other person looks tired.”
“Agreed.”
“No more disappearing into work until we become strangers.”
Dylan hesitates. “That one might be harder.”
Jun gives him a flat look.
Dylan sighs. “Okay. Fine. Agreed.”
Jun studies his face carefully. “Do you still want to break up?”
The question makes Dylan’s chest tighten all over again. He answers immediately. “No.”
Jun’s eyes shut in visible relief. “…I don’t either.”
Dylan exhales shakily.
That should fix everything. It doesn’t. Because the problems are still real. Schedules still exist. Work still matters. Life won’t magically slow down because they cried in bed.
They both know that.
Dylan voices it first. “What if we just end up here again?”
Jun goes quiet before speaking clear “Then we fight sooner.”
Dylan blinks.
Jun shrugs weakly. “I’m serious.” He brushes hair out of Dylan’s face. “If I miss you, I say it. If I’m angry, I say it. if I think you are overworking yourself, I annoy you until you listen.”
Dylan snorts softly. “That sounds threatening.”
“It is.”
Dylan’s mouth trembles into a smile. “And what if you are overworking yourself?”
Jun sighs dramatically. “Then you can drag me home.”
Dylan raises an eyebrow. “Over your shoulder?”
Jun groans. “Please never bring that up again.”
“No, I absolutely will.”
Jun's expression softens. “There is one more thing.”
Dylan tenses slightly. “What?”
Jun looks almost embarrassed. “When you said tonight was the end…”
“Yeah?”
“I genuinely thought I was going to throw up.”
Dylan stares at him. Then bursts into helpless laughter. “You are unbelievable.”
“I’m serious.”
“That’s so dramatic.”
Jun points at him accusingly. “You asked for a breakup date.”
“That was romantic in a tragic way.”
“That was insane.”
Dylan laughs so hard he has to hide his face in Jun’s shoulder.
Jun smiles into his hair. Gosh…. He missed this. Their ridiculous conversations at impossible hours. The way Dylan laughs with his whole body when he really means it. The warmth of him. The certainty.
“Stay tomorrow?” Jun murmurs eventually.
Dylan tilts his head. “I live here.”
“You know what I mean.”
Dylan looks at him and nods.
“Yeah.”
Jun visibly relaxes.
Right before sleep finally drags him under, Dylan murmurs against Jun’s chest “We really almost broke up because we were too considerate.”
Jun huffs sleepily. “That’s deeply embarrassing.”
Dylan smiles into the dark. “Don’t tell the others.”
Jun tightens his arms around him. “Taking that to my grave.”