Work Text:
ii. OCTOBER
Hey again,
Guess maybe you’re busy? Or worse, you moved and the address and phone number I’ve got are no longer yours. If that’s the case, hello stranger, please forgive these letters and let me know where my Jaehyun went.
(My mom said you didn’t move, though- said she would’ve known about it if you had. Pretty soon, if neither of us hear from you, she’s gonna start stalking you at that shitty little cafe.)
Kevin’s still been pestering me about moving in, and I’m starting to seriously consider it (crazy, right? I think he’s said the words “making a nest” more times than I can count at this point.) because it’s way harder to make friends when you’re twenty-two and not interested in overzealous drinking than I expected. I think it’s not really about the rent for him either, at least not anymore, just that he misses Jacob and it’s starting to make him go a little insane. Luckily, Jacob’s visiting over the weekend sometime in November, so at least that’ll satiate him for a while.
You should come sometime, too. Bring Younghoon, maybe, and we can all hang out again. The people here are so fucking dry, and I keep finding myself pining for summer like I’m in middle school again. It’s only, what, two and a half hours by train? I’ll come down there and grab you if I have to, seriously. I’ll steal you away from that little private school of yours just for lunch if you won’t come up here.
It’s getting colder, but it’s pretty much the same changes we would get down there. All the leaves are turning, even the wind’s got that bite to it and I’m starting to run out of dumb scarves to wear. I can’t tell if it’s good that it’s familiar or if it just makes me miss Gwangju more. The orange in the leaves feels dimmer here, though, like winter’s closing in on the whole city faster- not that I see the leaves all that often. I’m busier than I’d like.
That probably means you are too.
Hoping to hear from you soon, or see you soon. I definitely have to come back during the winter break, so at the very latest we can talk then.
- Juyeon
“Sorry I’m late-”
Jaehyun’s voice fills out the empty cafe a bit louder than he’d like, the stone of guilt growing heavier with each footstep he takes past the unpopulated tables. The warm-toned wood they’re made of looks a bit less welcoming in the grey morning, but the rainbow of cushions on the chairs do their best to make up for it. It’s so silent that, despite his shift having begun several minutes prior, he wonders for a moment if he’s the only one there. He slides through the saloon door and peruses the counter, searching for the signs of a human presence. For the most part, it’s pristine. There are a few milk jugs out, and sat next to them two portafilters, all of which Jaehyun can only assume were not left out overnight, but as he makes his way to the door to the backroom there’s an unmistakable sound.
Footsteps near, and he straightens his posture such a miniscule amount that most people would hardly notice- this isn’t most people, though. When the door pushes open, Jaehyun’s hand grips tighter around the straps of his messenger bag. Four fingers curl around the end of the door, the shine of a narrow silver ring circling the second to last finger catching his eye as they flex and push it back into its frame. The face that’s revealed has already got its eyes glued to Jaehyun, as if he could see him through the slab of wood between them.
“Where’ve you been?”
Ji Changmin. He’s already in uniform, seemingly pristine as ever, and there’s a quirk to his brow that tells Jaehyun he’s not the happiest clam. His deep hazelnut hair is parted in the same way as it always is, some two inches off centre, and each strand bounces in harmony with every bob of his head. The interwoven ribbons of muscle pull into a tight pattern as Changmin’s neck tilts with a questioning hm?, and Jaehyun is too used to the sight to be enthralled but not enough to keep from staring.
As much as he tries to rack his brain, he can’t think of a single time he’s seen Changmin out of the cafe uniform, like he’s some poor worker who died in here ages ago and can’t exist outside of its grounds. He’s there when Jaehyun arrives, and there when Jaehyun leaves, and he’ll probably still be there when Jaehyun’s six feet under. He can only imagine that the neat bow holding Changmin’s apron in place would crumble to dust if he tried to undo it.
“Sorry, the bus was late,” Jaehyun says, but it sounds just as much like bullshit as it tasted rolling off his tongue. “Stuck in traffic.”
Changmin has the decency to only blink up at him, expression fixed in apathy, before moving on.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go change.”
Taking what mercy he can get, Jaehyun bows his head in thanks and scampers off through the door to the back. His uniform shirt catches on his watch as he tugs it over his head, maroon fabric getting stuck on the crown and pulling his arm into an unnatural bend. Wiggling his wrist, he manages to extricate all his body parts from their pretzeled positions and tucks the hem into his pants. His eyes flit over to the face of his watch to make sure everything is in order, but the split position of the hands grab his attention instead; their daggers poke at the seven and eleven, five minutes to the opening time. It sets in with a sour taste at the back of Jaehyun’s throat that he’s far from several minutes late, and that Changmin had every right to chew him out if he so desired. He pulls his apron out of his bag with a defeated sigh, and shoves his discarded shirt into the gap it left behind. There’s a powder blue envelope sticking out of one of the open front pockets, hanging a little limp after a trip through the early morning fog, and Jaehyun reaches down to smooth it against the bag and read the name scratched into the front of it for the thousandth time that morning. He rolls the corner of the envelope between his fingers, and promises he’ll wait until work’s over to read it.
It’s more important that he helps Changmin as much as he can today.
The door to the back taunts him the rest of his shift, and he avoids stepping past it the in fear that he’ll be weak with the desire to know and end up poring over the words like some military wife. Luckily, the majority of his time is spent making change, taking orders from tired mouths, and setting pastries and cakes onto dessert plates. Changmin keeps to his corner, putting together drinks and occasionally swapping roles when the cafe gets louder and the groups get bigger. A few times, Changmin invades Jaehyun’s space with a squeeze to his shoulder and takes over whatever he was working on to make sure he does it correctly, flaking chocolate over whipped cream or brushing a napkin over a smear of cheesecake on a plate. Jaehyun’s worked in this place- with Changmin, no less- for a couple months short of a year, but he still manages to feel like he’s in training most days.
He works as hard as one can on a quiet morning shift in a small cafe, trying his best to make up for leaving Changmin by himself to set everything up, and the payoff is much more satisfying than he had anticipated.
In the final stretch of his shift, Changmin steps away from the espresso machine and takes a cautious glance over at Jaehyun. There’s no orders to be filled, no patrons to serve, and it’s usually moments like these when Jaehyun steps into the back for a breather, but Changmin’s eyes are back down on the floor and he’s twisting the edge of his left sleeve with the delicate lengths of his right fingers. Plus, Jaehyun’s still not sure he has the willpower to keep himself from ripping open that envelope.
Changmin takes a step closer, then two more, before he’s settling in front of Jaehyun with all the confidence of a looseleaf in an autumn breeze.
“I’m gonna go get something,” he says, finally looking up to where Jaehyun is leaning against the counter. “From the back, I mean.”
Jaehyun isn’t quite sure why Changmin’s telling him that, but he gives him a nod and an okay.
Changmin nods back, not assured in the slightest. He doesn’t move from his place in front of Jaehyun.
“Thank you,” and it comes after a moment of deliberation and big eyes flicking around the wall behind Jaehyun. “For helping so much today, I mean.”
“It’s the least I could do for not being here this morning,” Jaehyun says, a half-smile softening his body and weighing him down heavier against the polished wood countertop. Changmin doesn’t smile back, just nods again with a dip of his long neck before stepping out of Jaehyun’s view. It’s barely a moment later when another exhausted university student with a laptop under one arm and wallet already opened slinks over to the front of the cafe bar table, and Jaehyun’s prepared to take on this challenge all by himself if Changmin needs the break. He kicks off the counter and moves, with a smile, towards the register.
After a minute without any sign of Changmin coming out of the back, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to go in there and ask- the poor girl wants latte macchiato, and Jaehyun can’t for the life of him remember what the difference between that and a cafe latte is. He can safely escape, since she’s already gone to sit down at one of the many unoccupied tables and won’t be able to see him struggling to put together one of the simplest things from across the room. For some reason, he knocks before sliding his head in through the back door.
“Hey, is a latte macchiato the one with chocolate, or...”
Changmin’s eyes are shot open wide, his shoulders bunched up and tense like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t- and, in a way, he has. The pale blue envelope is out of the front pocket of his messenger bag and clutched between Changmin’s fingers instead. His ears flush red as his eyes dip back down to the item in his hand.
“I, uhm-” Changmin stutters, quickly placing it back in its place and giving it an awkwardly gentle pat before turning to Jaehyun. “No, uh, a latte macchiato’s the one where you put the milk in the cup first. I can- I can make it.”
Jaehyun can only get out an ambivalent sure before Changmin is sliding past him and back to the machines, immediately moving back into work mode and tamping freshly ground coffee with an expert hand. Jaehyun can still catch the bright red of his ears, and he swears he can hear the whistle of a kettle somewhere in the background of cafe chatter.
It’s only when his shift is officially over that he approaches Changmin again. He beats Jaehyun to words, though, the apology seeming to bubble up his throat like bile with the hasty way he spits it out.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” he starts, then falters under Jaehyun’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to go through your stuff or anything, I just saw the name and…”
He trails off there.
“Juyeon?”
Changmin nods like he’s made of rusted metal. “Yeah, I didn’t know he moved.”
“You know him?”
“I mean, he came here almost every other day to see you,” Changmin says with the gentlest hint of a chuckle. His dark, almond eyes meet Jaehyun’s with a bright sparkle, his ears still flushed. “I’ve taken his order too many times to count.”
Jaehyun can’t manage a response, watching Changmin’s face curl up in adoration at just the mention of Juyeon.
“I had been wondering why he stopped coming.”
With a glance down at his watch to tear his eyes away from Changmin, Jaehyun finally manages a response. “He moved to Seoul in August.”
“University?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
And Changmin looks like he has about a billion more questions that Jaehyun doesn’t have it in him to answer right now, so he lets the conversation tumble to the ground with a silent crash and makes his way to the back.
(He buys envelopes on his way back to his dorm, with nothing to put in them yet. Reading Juyeon’s letter doesn’t help.)
i. SEPTEMBER
Hey Jaehyun
I’ve never written a letter like this one before, or if I have I can’t remember. It’s weird, though, writing to you instead of speaking. Way too formal for my tastes. Not so sure what I should write, either, so I guess I’ll try picking out what’s important.
I’m staying in a little studio apartment here (thank god) and it’s nice, much better than having to share a bathroom and kitchen with a bunch of other freshmen. I’ve got a pretty nice desk, too, and a bookshelf for all the stupidly heavy textbooks they made me buy, most of which I’ve barely even touched. It’s the start of the semester, though, so maybe I’ll ease into the whole “studying” thing (not that I had much luck with that in high school, but this is different and even you rolling your eyes when you read this isn’t gonna stop me from trying). There’s a bulletin board too, which I’m particularly happy about because I get to hang a ton of sappy shit from it- my mom’s already sent me four letters, can you believe it? I’m sure you can, you know how she gets.
I’ve got that photostrip of us from July (or was it June?) put up on it too, which I’m sure you’re not too happy about since you barely even let me keep it in my wallet. So, ha-ha, it’s immortalised on my wall now and there’s not a single thing you can do to get me to take it down.
(Though, I think you look plenty cute. Kevin just likes to mess with you. Speaking of, he told me to say ‘hi’ to you when I wrote this, in between asking if he can move in with me to save on rent like he’s been doing since before I even settled in here. I’m still thinking it over. To be honest, I’m quite content to have a space to myself, and I wouldn’t want to have to have to trip over him like some goddamn hurdle every morning if he made his “nest” on the floor. He really called it that, Jaehyun, a nest. I am going to tell you every time he says that word to me so I don’t have to suffer alone.)
It’s weird not seeing you, or anyone else for that matter. I thought I’d miss my family a lot more, but it’s been such a whirlwind trying to settle in and I’ve talked to my mom over the phone more times than I can count. Still, I guess in that way I’m glad Kevin moved to Seoul too so I can at least have some sort of grounding familiarity.
How are you, though? Do you miss your best friend? I know you do, but I still want to hear you say it. Or, write it. How’s the job going? Is that guy still as neurotic as ever? I have to wonder why someone would work as a barista if they can’t even manage to pretend to not hate their job for, what- a five-hour shift? He doesn’t get mad at you for the way you put together a cappuccino anymore, right? I’ll have to take your word that he’s nice on the inside because all I ever got from him were glares. Wishing you all the best in your third year, but I doubt it’ll be all that challenging for you considering you’ve been top of your degree for your entire university career, you asshole.
Write me, call me, whatever you want. I miss you.
- Juyeon
(ps. I just remembered I have written a few letters like this before, way back when my dad was on duty. I was a kid though, so it doesn’t really count. Now that I think about it, writing this really does make me feel like a kid again. It’s embarrassing, but I went through about three sheets of perfectly good paper trying to make this letter sound not weird, so I hope the effort didn’t go to waste.)
It’s a month after Juyeon’s swept up and out of Jaehyun’s life that the first letter finds its way to his mailbox.
A month of quiet, of work, of Jaehyun falling into the groove of university and back out of it as soon as a vision of stupidly long arms and a bright, closed-eye grin passes through his mind like a fever dream. Jaehyun’s well aware that Juyeon’s still real, even from hundreds of kilometres away, but without anything to taste and touch and see, really see, an imaginary figure seems to take the real one’s place. It’s not quite terrifying, not yet, but it makes something dark curl in tendrils around each muscle that moves in Jaehyun. The grip he’s got on his ballpoint tightens, becomes useless.
When he had first opened the box in the lobby of his dorm, expecting a pamphlet or maybe student news, the single envelope propped up so carefully in it already struck him as out of place. Even as he moved to touch it, turn it over, the glimpse of scrawling ink had caught his eye- Lee Juyeon, Seoul. He had been looking for that name, and it had found him. For weeks it had followed him on his walks home from campus, to the grocery store, to all the places it used to inhabit. It was hiding in the corners of his room like a childhood ghost that trailed after him a little too far from home. Exhilaration had coursed cold through his body upon seeing the name in the flesh for the first time that month.
But now Jaehyun’s bent over his desk like he’s at a confessional, pen in unmoving hand and a blank page beneath it. He reads through the letter again and winces when missing Juyeon tucks deeper into his flesh. That name digs in again, a needle working over the fresh edges of a tattoo that’s never going to heal. Each stroke of Juyeon’s alphabet is familiar and Jaehyun hates how the phrases that made him laugh on the first read are making his fingers balmy with sweat by the tenth.
His teeth groan as he clenches his jaw tighter.
An hour later and there’s about five pages balled up in his trash can, and Jaehyun thinks he might be getting good at this depressing origami game he’s made for himself. How long until he’s written enough words he knows he shouldn’t say to fill his whole room? He can barely get past the first ‘hey,’ or the first ‘Juyeon,’ before he’s feeling uncomfortable with the stretch of unspoken words he can see playing out on the paper. Maybe the process made Juyeon feel like a kid, but it’s got Jaehyun's brain regressing back to the dysphoria of seventeen, a baseless sense of embarrassment softening his happiness with exhaustion. Letter number six, sitting pretty and taunting him like a mirror of every rose he’s got slipping from his teeth down to his fingers, is discarded too. Each one dies with a sigh, a crumple, and then silence. Number six is no different besides the fact that it’s the last of the night.
Juyeon’s letter looks nice above his desk, if not a little awkward as the sole item clinging on to the wall’s powdery paint job with four pieces of tape. He’s got no photos of Juyeon to put up, none to match the strip he knows that Juyeon’s got on his bulletin, and a childish regret tugs his mouth down in a frown. Worse, he can’t even picture what Juyeon’s place looks like; where’s the bulletin board, and how do their faces tucked into a thin white frame look against it?
‘It was from July,’ he thinks, imagining what his wall would’ve looked like had he printed one for himself too. A little happier, maybe, a little less lonely.
The bright yellow of the telephone catches his eye as he looks over his room, and it’s an unsubtle reminder that he can call Juyeon if he wants. Juyeon made it clear in his letter that the want is reciprocated, so Jaehyun steps over and places his hand on it like he’s handling a wild creature. The thing could start ringing right under his palm, for all he knows. He thinks of Juyeon, in some room he can only conjure up an idea for, penning a letter at a desk. The sunlight’s beaming in through a window above him, even though Jaehyun’s well aware it would be night for him too, as his hands trace again the words that Jaehyun’s got written on his walls now. The thought that Juyeon’s busy, that he might not even be home, pulls Jaehyun’s hand from the phone like it bit him. He tucks his palm back into the pocket of his jeans, and takes the three steps backwards until he’s fwumped over onto his bed. The olive green sheets blur in the proximity.
Even if he was positive Juyeon was home and happy to get his call, he would still have ended up limp like a ragdoll with his cheek pressed to the bumps in his mattress. The distance has left him unpredictable, equal parts confident and confused in a chemical reaction that’s one gentle shove away from thermal runaway. He’ll write the letter tomorrow, he decides.
Sleep brushes across his body like an autumn breeze, and breaks his thoughts off their branches until they’re nothing more than gentle whispers.
iii. NOVEMBER
Hey, got some good news and some bad news for you, unfortunately.
I’m still holding out on you reading these, and just not having the time- or the sanity- to write me or call me in between a business degree and a part time job. Who knows, maybe you’ve moved on to an internship now and you’re literally just running from one place to the next and passing out during the few quiet moments in between. I wouldn’t blame you, I’m barely doing shit and I still find myself half asleep most days. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss how you’d pass out at my place instead of your shitty dorm room on the worst of your days, though. To think I used to find it annoying.
Also, aviation engineering is way less interesting than it sounds. The physics is alright, but there’s so much history that needs to be memorised that I’m just… tired of it at this point. Truth be told, those textbooks have remained almost as untouched as they were when I first got them, so feel free to say ‘I told you so’ when we finally get to talk again. I know I don’t technically need a degree to become a pilot, but most of the time they look for people with degrees so at least it’ll increase my odds of getting a pretty good job, right? I hope so.
Now onto the news:
- The bad news is that I won’t be able to come for the winter break, which is really… disappointing, if I’m being honest. They basically have it set up so anyone who wants practical experience needs to be present in Seoul for the last week of December and the first week of January, so maybe I could make a day trip at one point? But it seems pretty rigorous and I’m not really wanting to fuck up my chances by skipping out on the opportunity. The offer still stands for you to come here, though. I’ve got space.
- The good news is that I got to see Jacob- and, more importantly, Kevin got to see Jacob. We had been expecting to be the ones showing him around, but apparently he had spent half a year here when he first moved, which I somehow had no idea about. Did you? So, really, it was more like him showing us around. We even took a bunch of pictures around the city together. Turns out there’s a lot of cool shit we probably never would’ve seen had it not been for him, and it made me think that over the summer we should just all spend a week or two together up here. It would be really fun.
(And don’t you want to see where I live now? How I live? I’d love to show you all my favourite places, Jaehyun. I think you’d really, really, really like it here.)
Anyways, I just hope you’re doing well and kicking university’s ass without overworking yourself. If I find out you haven’t been taking care of yourself, I’m hopping on the first train to Gwangju and seeing to it myself.
- Juyeon
Jaehyun watches the stream of water from the espresso machine shiver, sputter, and dwindle into just a steady drip. Once it’s finished, he wipes a damp cloth over the reflective metal front of it until it shines with tapwater and he can see his own distorted reflection cut up in the grates. Behind him, he hears the flip of a switch and the blue light of the display fridge cuts out, leaving the two of them in only the muddy yellow light from above the seating area. Changmin reaches for the cleaning spray by Jaehyun, and starts giving the counter space a hefty coating of it.
It’s the third time this week that Jaehyun’s stayed in the cafe past his late shift, helping Changmin clean up and close up shop. The thing is, it’s the easiest way he’s gotten Changmin talking to him since October, since Juyeon’s second letter, since Jaehyun realised he’d been spending his shifts much too focused on the way Changmin moved his body so gracefully behind the counter that it could almost be called dancing.
“How’s Juyeon?”
Jaehyun’s ears perk up. That tends to be among the first few questions that Changmin asks, though it’s shifted further down the list with each conversation they’ve had. Even the few hanging plants know they’ve spent a bit too much time dancing around it now, especially since Jaehyun saw Changmin eyeing the blue envelope (opened, this time) in his bag again.
“He’s fine,” Jaehyun chuckles. The sound of cloth to squeaky counter stops, and Jaehyun doesn’t have to look to know that Changmin’s ears are heating up again and he’s got his hands curled around the base of them in embarrassment. His words might belie him, but his hands always seem to give away exactly how he’s feeling. “He can’t come for the winter break, though.”
“Oh,” and it sounds like a guitar string pulled just a centimetre too far.
“It’s okay, though. We’ll see each other soon.”
Whether it’s a lie or not, Jaehyun isn’t sure. All he knows is that telling Changmin he hasn’t even written Juyeon back, and that he’s still not sure why, is not something he wants to do. He wants to see Juyeon soon, but every ‘soon’ he’s given feels too abrupt. The strokes of Changmin’s cloth resumes, and Jaehyun can breathe a bit better again.
It’s a short-lived victory, though, because Changmin says, “Are you gonna go see him in Seoul, then? Instead of him coming here, I guess.”
“Nah, he’s gonna be busy,” Jaehyun grabs the last few clean milk jugs and hangs them up by their handles, “he has practical work to do.”
Changmin doesn’t reply, just rinses out the cloth and moves into the open backroom to drape it over the radiator. Jaehyun, seeing nothing left to do, steps forward and rests against the doorframe.
“Maybe you could, I don’t know-” and it stumbles out of Changmin’s mouth and falls into a heap at his feet. He takes a moment to breathe, tuck his arms behind himself, and with a tug the back of his apron falls undone. It hangs limp from his neck before he pulls it over his head. “Maybe we could meet up sometime during the break, if you’re gonna be here.”
By the time Changmin has folded his apron and is stuffing it into his bag, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, Jaehyun realises none of the thoughts have made it off of his heavy tongue. He straightens himself, and tries not to think about the fact that he’d typically be home by this point in the night.
“Yeah, no, for sure, I mean-” and he stops when it hits him that he’s been out of uniform for the past half hour and Changmin just took off his apron and oh god, yeah, he’s probably waiting for me to step out of the doorway and give him privacy.
So he does, leaving the door ajar and standing behind it so Changmin’s voice can still make it through the opening. “If you want to, I’d be totally down.”
There’s the brush of fabric against skin, followed by the sound of rummaging, and Jaehyun feels all sorts of weird listening to him change through the door. The situation itself barely qualifies as scandalous, only crowned with that nature because of Jaehyun’s placement and the fact that he’s actively listening- for words, he thinks, for words! Eventually, there are footsteps and the light inside the backroom clicks off, so Jaehyun steps away from the door and lets Changmin pass. He doesn’t seem nearly as frazzled by the situation, just decorated with new fabrics that Jaehyun’s only heard tell of. He’s got a striped polo shirt on under the beige twill coat Jaehyun’s seen hanging in the back most of the colder days, and always just assumed it was Changmin’s. There are oversized white buttons lining the length of it, white highlights sewn into the beige patterns. He looks-
“I should probably give you my number then.”
Cute.
Not that he doesn’t normally, because Jaehyun can and will appreciate a man in an apron, but he’s drowning in that coat and smiling up at him with those big, curious eyes of his and it’s just a touch more than Jaehyun can take.
He pulls a pen out of his bag, and says, “probably, huh?”
“Yep, probably,” Changmin adds, but the probably is a definitely when he takes the pen from Jaehyun’s outstretched hand and tugs a scrap piece of paper out of a compartment in the cash register.
(As soon as Jaehyun gets home, he pulls the letter and the polaroid out of the envelope, taping them both up alongside the first two letters. He runs a finger across the edges of the photo, maps out Juyeon’s smile pressed in between Jacob’s and Kevin’s own grins, and wishes for something he doesn’t have a name for. Security, maybe. A place always and forever by Juyeon’s side. He hasn’t emptied out the trash can in his room yet, still filled with crumpled paper balls full of secrets he’s so desperate to let go of.
Then, his telephone rings. It shakes him even though he knows it’s probably Changmin, maybe even his mom- Juyeon hasn’t called him in a month, as far as he can tell. He picks it up with a nervous palm, if only to stop the ringing, and presses the receiver to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Changmin’s voice rings out from the other end.)
v. JANUARY
Hi again
Winter break wasn’t much fun, but it was better than the usual lectures and readings and whatnot. We didn’t get to do anything super cool but we still got to hang around planes and look at flight controls, so at least something. Not a good enough consolation prize for not seeing you, though.
I did meet some people over the break kinda unexpectedly- everyone doing the practical stuff with me were the same quiet few from my classes, but since I took more time to explore the city during the evenings I ended up talking to some other university students at this, like, udon place? It was super out of the blue. One of them works there, and his two friends had sat down near me and were making a bet for who would pay and asked me to make a guess at who I thought would win, like it was seriously out of nowhere. But they were super nice, the guy who worked there (Sangyeon, an absolute sweetheart) actually ended up paying for both of them, and I’ve hung out with them a few times since.
You know how I had hung up those pictures of us? They started getting sunbleached, so I had to take them down and keep them stored in my desk drawer. I panicked so much when I first noticed, and it made me realise we barely have any pictures like that together. I have, like, four pictures of you, maybe. That’s not nearly enough. I am politely requesting that you provide me with more, either when one of us finally hauls our ass to the other side of the country or when you finally send me a letter.
Oh, I completely forgot to mention- Kevin moved in after the winter break. It’s only been for two weeks, but I’ve gotten so used to it already that I can’t really remember what it’s like to not have him here. He sleeps on the couch, which is a little fun to remind him of whenever we get into stupid arguments, but other than that it just feels normal. The guy can talk, though, even in his sleep. I knew he had a mouth on him, but I’d always assumed he’d be a little more introverted outside of like… friend hang-out situations? Nope, he isn’t, because even when we aren’t talking I can hear the snarky comments he makes to himself.
Younghoon tells me you’re busy, that the only time he’s seen you is at that cafe. I’d tell you to quit your job. I would, I want to tell you to do that, but I know you can’t. Did you take on more shifts? I really hope you didn’t, you really need some rest. Even just hanging out with Younghoon, or Jacob. Even Changmin, if you’re already spending so much time in that goddamn place, right? Might as well make friends.
I am wishing you all the best from lonely Seoul, waiting for the day I get to talk to you again.
- Juyeon
“Are you seriously asking me about Juyeon again?”
“What,” Changmin starts, “do you not want to talk about him?”
Jaehyun sets his drink down on the bar table, shifting on the seat of his stool to face Changmin. It’s only his second beer of the night but the alcohol’s already made its way to his cheeks, and soon it’ll be in his brain too.
“I didn’t say that, I just-” but maybe he was saying that, in his own way. The beer he’s drinking must have been spiked with confidence, or something like it at least (maybe the fucking alcohol?), because he feels like spilling his guts to Changmin- not in a vomit way, though, he’s still a way’s away from that point. Changmin looks over at him, head tilted down and eyes peering up through his lashes. His finger trails slow, but not quite gentle, around the edge of his own glass. It’s hypnotising.
“I just haven’t heard much from him, is all.”
At that, Changmin wraps his fingers around the stem of his martini glass and tips the clear liquid into the back of his throat like it’s for fucking show, and Jaehyun tries his best to mirror the precise movements. He can’t imagine he succeeds with even half the grace.
“Really? Doesn’t he write you a bunch,” Changmin asks, setting the empty glass down on the table with a clink. His cheeks are blotchy with a rose-hued watercolour. “And don’t you guys, like, call?”
Jaehyun tries to put more beer in his mouth before he lets it slip out, but he’s a little too slow. “I actually haven’t really… contacted him, since he left.”
The bartender passes by just as Changmin lets out a too-loud huh?, and promptly steps right past them.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
Changmin’s eyes are wide and glued to Jaehyun’s profile, unflinching. What’s left of the foam floating atop Jaehyun’s beer pops bit by bit, and he stares at that instead of looking up to see if Changmin looks disappointed. The sound of people and glasses being set down on wooden tables fades back in, the piercing siren of anxiety gets muffled by more alcohol.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he says with a weak laugh, hoping to move on from this part of their conversation.
“Huh? Oh, no, I’m not-” Changmin tries, before his words topple over onto each other like the end of a game of jenga. “I’m just curious as to why, is all.”
Jaehyun finishes off the last of his beer in a gulp, before setting the glass down and sliding it away with the tips of his fingers. Looking back up at Changmin, he’s met with tight lips and eyes full of sympathy.
“I guess I’ve got some unresolved issues,” and it’s the only explanation Jaehyun can really give in the time he’s been afforded to think. September through December was a blur of digging deep graves for emotions he didn’t want to understand, his own letters piling up ten times faster than the ones Juyeon sent. Unresolved is the most apt description he can come up with.
“Really?”
Jaehyun stays silent.
“Huh, that’s kind of… surprising,” Changmin says, leaning his elbow on the bar and tucking his cheek against his palm.
“Is it?”
Changmin nods, and on the upwards movement his peach-tinted cheeks catch the light and Jaehyun notices a freckle on the side of his face he’s not sure he’s ever noticed before.
“Yeah, it is,” and it comes out soft, like Changmin wants his voice to be a blanket even when his words are a goddamn hammer. It’s fine, though, Jaehyun’s been hiding from this shit for far too long.
“Obviously you’d know better than me, but I just,” Changmin giggles, the hand he was resting on moving to cover his mouth, “I just can’t imagine not falling in love with Juyeon, but maybe that’s silly.”
Ah.
Jaehyun was definitely aware of how Changmin felt about Juyeon, if the blush in his ears and the high lilt of his voice whenever he talked about him was anything to go by, but having such indisputable proof soothed Jaehyun’s own feelings.
“Who said I didn’t?”
And that catches Changmin off guard, his laughter catching in the back of his throat and his pupils fixed directly on Jaehyun’s. “What?”
“Who said I didn’t fall in love with him?”
Maybe he should’ve known he was after writing it down in a hundred unsent letters, but this is the first time it’s felt real. There’s that soft little oh again, but Changmin doesn’t break eye contact this time- his expression shifts into something a bit sadder as a mutual, unspoken you too? passes between them. Jaehyun nods, and lets a bittersweet smile crawl its way onto his lips.
“But that’s not what I’m here for,” he says, and Changmin’s staring at him like a cat does the fluttering wings of a moth. His eyes follow every minute movement Jaehyun makes. “Juyeon, I mean. That’s not what I’m here for.”
“Then what are you here for?”
Jaehyun’s face brightens with the chuckle that bubbles up his throat, he can feel it. “You, of course.”
“Me?” And it’s such a silly question to ask that Jaehyun feels a second wave of laughter pull out of him.
It also brings something new, though, something he’s been missing for a long time now- clarity. He and Changmin are both pining for a man they feel they can’t have, and Jaehyun wants nothing more than to make his intentions with Changmin clear. Affection is not a non-renewable resource, a limiting factor in this equation, and he needs to make sure Changmin knows that.
“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, “I was meaning for this to be a date, if that’s alright with you.”
He’s never seen Changmin smile quite as bright as he does after that. It pushes his eyes up into happy crescents, pulling a dimple into his cheek as his lips curl up over his teeth. He giggles again, slumping over and leaning against the bar for support.
“You really mean that?”
“Yeah, I really, really do.”
iv. DECEMBER
I’m worried you aren’t getting these. Maybe they’re getting lost in the post somehow, or I’m a dumbass and I’ve been writing your address wrong this entire time. Maybe you’ve got a new line, which is why none of my calls got picked up, but my number’s the same one I gave you so I wish you’d call.
I asked Younghoon (don’t be mad, I normally wouldn’t pry but I’m worried you’re working yourself to the bone) and he said you haven’t moved out of your place, that you’re still working at that cafe. He also said he sees less and less of you all the time. Are you okay? If it weren’t for him keeping me relatively posted and the fact that you’d kick my ass if you knew I was worrying this much, I’d just head down there unannounced. Like, fuck school at this point, right? I still might just.
But real life’s different than that, I guess. I shouldn’t invade your space just because I haven’t gotten a letter back or something silly like that, it’s… what’s that word you always use? You used to piss us all off so bad whenever you used it, like you were better than us (which you might be right about, but still), and I’m sure you still piss plenty of people off with it to this day.
Then, scrawled in a different ink along the margins:
(unbecoming. I don’t want to tell you how long it took me to remember.)
Am I talking to you like it’s been years? I feel like maybe I am, like these letters are getting messier and messier because it’s like I’m just writing them to myself at this point- and I’m so sick of hearing about myself, you don’t even know. I want to hear about you, Jaehyun. Or anything you want to talk about, just not me. It’s like I’m stuck with me all day, in this fucking room. I think maybe it’s time I let Kevin finally move in. What do you think?
This letter is a mess. I kinda hope you aren’t getting these, just so this one can slip through the cracks and cease to exist in any living memory. If you do get it, though, I’m sorry that it reads like my seventh grade diary entries. It’s just starting to feel more like a place to consolidate my emotions than to talk, since you can’t really have a conversation without a second party.
I’m gonna try and put myself out there more, maybe. Find more friends.
- Juyeon
Jaehyun’s not sure what’s wrong with him anymore.
Maybe it’s the weather, he reasons. It’s been cold and dry and heavy for most of the time Juyeon’s been gone, like a storm’s been encroaching for months and it just refuses to break. He’s sat down to write a letter at least once a week in hopes that it’ll come to him like some sort of divine inspiration, but every time he tries all that he gets out are a pathetic string of I miss you, I love you, over and over again like there’s no other words he knows.
But some things are best left unsaid, so he scraps his latest attempt and pulls out another blank sheet.
This one stays empty for a good half hour before he manages to write a wooden paragraph that fails to acknowledge the fact that he’s completely ignored Juyeon for three months outside of a ha-ha, yeah, I was busy. It’s pathetic, really, and exhausting more than anything else. When he tries again, it comes out like a big pity party full of excuses and outright lies and not a single word of care- as if he can’t balance his feelings whatsoever, as if he’s scared any sort of care will devolve into another stream of bright pink I love you’s. He doesn’t try a fourth time.
The lunch plans he made with Changmin today are soon, so he sits back down on his bed and waits for the clock to strike twelve instead.
vi. FEBRUARY
What’s it been now, five months? It feels way longer than that.
Five months of not even getting to read letters in your voice, the one I’ve still got permanently embedded in my brain, that’s been there since we were kids. Five months of staring at the four (I finally counted) pictures of you that I’ve got, like I’m stranded on some deserted island. I don’t even try to hide it around Kevin anymore, I miss you like nothing else. Where did you go? Is this what growing up is? Do we all just get busier and further from each other until we’ve got no choice but to meet new people? I don’t think so. I stopped checking my post box every day, though, and not because I’m worried it’ll be empty- no, it’s because I get so damn excited every time there’s a letter in there, and it’s never from you.
And that’s okay,
(“I don’t need you,” but it’s scratched out. Jaehyun makes it out through the pen tracks on the opposite side of the paper.)
you’ve always been the busiest person I know. I’m sure even your degree itself is enough to keep you occupied, especially with the amount of time you spend actually studying. Maybe I’ve just got too much time on my hands, thinking about you the way I do. If I’m being honest, there were a few days I was thinking of coming, but if you’re this busy I know it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyways. Most of the time, I spent those days just laying in bed or hanging out with Kevin or with the udon shop guy and his friends. I almost went last Saturday, too, but I ended up exploring Bukhansan a bit instead.
There’s a bookstore I think you’d like here, it’s got a little cafe in it and everything. I think you’d like Sangyeon, too, even if his friends are a little more extroverted than either of us are used to (especially Eric- but he’s basically American, so I guess that’s to be expected). There’s so many things I wanna show you when I finally get the chance.
Soon. It’ll be soon, for sure. I hope things get easier for you, and when you figure out how to organise your life a little better get back to me. The only constant in my life right now is this room and these letters.
- Juyeon
Changmin sits on Jaehyun’s bed like it’s his, and Jaehyun hasn’t ever loved a sight more than that.
“You almost done?”
Jaehyun takes a moment to look back at him from his desk again, and delights in the way Changmin’s got both hands set down on the sheet in front of his crossed legs like an eager cat.
“Don’t rush me,” but the words pull out of an involuntary smirk, giving Changmin permission to do whatever he so pleases. Changmin rolls his eyes, falling back against Jaehyun’s pillow and rearranging his legs as he lies down.
He sets his eyes back on the half-written letter in front of him, and gets to work.
(The I miss you, I love you still comes pouring out of him like water from an open tap, but it doesn’t feel like a tearing sort of truth anymore. He lets it out willingly, and watches as the words fit themselves into the letter like they were meant to be there, and relief washes down his back like the first rain of spring. The soft sound of pages turning fills in the white noise, Changmin quietly thumbing through one of Jaehyun’s magazines on the bed.)
Jaehyun noses into the peaceful silence when he asks, “do you have those polaroids with you?”
“Yeah, why?”
He turns, slinging his arm over the back of his desk chair. “Can I have them?”
Changmin laughs, still keeping his eyes locked on the bright ink of the pages in his hand. “They’re mine.”
“For Juyeon,” Jaehyun says, and that must win Changmin over because he rolls to the edge of the bed on wrinkled sheets to reach into his bag. He pulls a little book out, navy blue and decorated with holographic stickers, and tosses it to Jaehyun.
“Only a few, yeah? They’re my favourites.”
Jaehyun smiles with an of course, and finishes up his letter.
On the way to the post office, Changmin stuffs his hand into Jaehyun’s jacket pocket and wraps his freezing fingers around the warm hand already occupying the space.
Hey
It’s been… way too fucking long, and I’m really sorry about that.
If I’m being honest with you, I’ve been trying to write you back since the very first letter you wrote, and being busy was definitely part of the reason why it took me five whole months to get my shit together. But there were also a lot of weird things going on here that all popped up as soon as you left that made it almost impossible for me to even get a sentence down, stuff that’s really hard to explain in a letter. Maybe once we actually see each other in person I can try? For now, though, just be content knowing that I’ve figured things out somewhat- or at least began the process of figuring things out.
School’s been hard for sure. It’s, like, all reading at this point, and I’m so tired of just getting home from classes and having to get ready for my shift and then as soon as I finish that I have to get home and work on assignments and all that goddamn reading. I’m beginning to wonder if I even want to keep on the track I’m going, because I’m losing interest fast and I think I jumped into all of this way too quickly and soon three years will have passed and- yeah. It’s just a lot. The winter break was really good for me in that way since it gave me time to think about things and try to map out all the things that are actually important.
Also, how are you managing to live with Kevin? Tell me everything, I’m so curious to hear what it’s like to spend long periods of time exposed to him. You’re not turning into a theatre kid on me now, are you?
It’s super weird without you here and I think that kind of stunted me for a bit, too. Each letter you sent just made me miss you more, but I was so confused about almost every aspect of my life that I just ended up putting it off and writing about a hundred letters that never made it to you. It was stupid of me to do that, I really should’ve just called you and told you that I was getting your letters. Better late than never though, right? It feels more natural to be sending a letter in response first anyways. I’ve been avoiding my telephone for the most part since you left.
(Again, it would be easier to explain in person.)
I started hanging out with Changmin more, so that’s new. He kept me company during the winter break and has been hanging around me ever since; it’s good, it really is, because without you around and with all the other shit going on, I started to feel the seasons changing down to my fucking bones. It was good to have someone with fresh eyes not be asking me if I was okay all the time, if I’m being honest. Not that I’m not happy that you guys all care about me, it truly means the whole world to me, but sometimes I just wanted to not have to think about anything and he wasn’t bothered to ask me about university or work or my mental well-being. It was nice.
So, let me know what days work for you, and I can head on over there. Maybe even for a weekend, if that’s cool with you?
I miss you, I love you, and I’ll see you soon, Juyeon. Take care.
- Jaehyun
(ps- Enclosed are four more polaroids with mostly me in them. Use them wisely.)
vii. MARCH
“Come back soon, yeah?”
Sunwoo’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, his dark, round eyes fixed on Jaehyun’s.
“Please, it’s so much more fun with you here,” Chanhee says, popping up from behind Sunwoo’s form, and Sunwoo’s brows furrow before he starts up on an incredulous are you saying I’m not fun? until he’s cut off. “You’re the one who’s always saying we’re boring even though you asked us to move in with you.”
“Oh my god, save your bickering for after we leave, christ,” Changmin groans, pulling on his coat and stepping past the two arguing bodies in the doorway.
“Wait, you’re going too?”
At Sunwoo’s question, Changmin looks up at Jaehyun as if to push the job of answering onto him. Jaehyun takes it in stride, responding with, “yeah, we’re just gonna hang out a while longer, as long as you don’t mind me taking him off your hands?”
Chanhee’s face drops, and he turns to Changmin. “Seriously, Changmi? You’re leaving me alone with Sunwoo for longer?”
“Yep, deal with it,” Changmin says, a devilish tone aided by his tight-lipped smirk.
“But I don’t want to deal with it.”
Sunwoo flicks Chanhee’s forearm, and his mouth keeps shut after that.
The exchange of goodbyes is quick after that, the morose farewell that slips from Chanhee’s mouth barely audible over the door shutting closed. Jaehyun doesn’t even have time to be perplexed, because he’s being pulled down the hallway of the apartment complex by Changmin’s tight grip.
“Are they always like that?”
“You get used to it,” Changmin says, turning to glance up at Jaehyun as he takes the first step down the stairs. “It was about time you met my friends, anyways.”
Jaehyun tries his best to keep up with Changmin’s quick, practiced pace down the flights of stairs. The walls are a dull off-white colour, but the early evening sun pierces through the square windows with a bright yellow that makes the whole place look just a bit more inviting. “And you live with them?”
“Uh-huh,” and Changmin’s words are punched with each heavy step he takes, “They’re great, swear on my life, they just take some… taste-acquiring.”
“I just can’t imagine all three of you living in that tiny apartment and not gouging each other’s eyes out.”
“Trust me, if you had told me three years ago that we could live in the same room without killing each other,” Changmin starts, spinning on his heels and pressing his back into the crash bar of the front door in one smooth motion. “I would’ve called you a filthy liar.”
The door opens in a burst of sunlight, and it’s a little out of place in early March. He steps out past Changmin, squinting into the glow of the low sun as he scans the sky.
“Are those…” Jaehyun begins, too fixated on the sky to finish his question.
Changmin looks up too, following the finger Jaehyun lifts into the sky- there’s a blanket of dark clouds looming overhead, not yet blocking out the sun when it’s so close to the horizon.
“Rain clouds?”
Jaehyun nods.
“I guess so, but-” Changmin looks over at him, cocks his head. “They look massive. Isn’t that a little weird for March, or at least this early?”
Jaehyun nods again, and a rumble of thunder in the distance shocks both of them into stunned silence, passing messages to each other through their wide eyes. “We should probably get to walking,” Jaehyun says.
Ten minutes later, with another ten left until they reach Jaehyun’s dorm, the rain kicks in. They don’t find a place to hide out, though, they run through it like their lives depended on it, laughing like kids as the water seeps past their light coats and into their skin. The rain’s cold, holding the last breath of winter in each drop and decorating their skin with goosebumps, but they keep moving all the same.
(Their bodies are heavy with waterlogged clothing as they walk up the stairs of Jaehyun’s dorm, but it’s the best weight Jaehyun’s felt in months.)
“Christ,” Changmin breathes, chest still heaving with laughter and exertion. He pulls off his coat and tosses it over the open door of Jaehyun’s bathroom to dry, but his shirt’s soaked through about the same.
“Guess you’re staying here tonight, huh?”
And it’s only half a joke, because it would be Jaehyun’s honour to share his room with Changmin for any amount of time, he just doesn’t want to force anything. The rain seems unpredictable at best, though, and he’s not sure how Changmin will get home if it keeps up for much longer.
Changmin looks down in thought, his wet hair dripping onto his face. “Can I actually?”
“If you want to,” Jaehyun says, stepping into Changmin’s space as he lets his own coat slip from his arms. “Anything, if you want to.”
He watches as Changmin’s eyes shift down to his lips, before looking back up and meeting his stare again. “I want to.”
Jaehyun smiles.
(Their lips are slippery with rainwater when they press together, but Jaehyun’s hands are too busy finding Changmin’s skin to notice the mess. A powder blue envelope sits, unopened, on his desk.)
Jaehyun.
Jaehyun.
It’s ironic, but it turns out I had this envelope sitting on my desk for about a week before I realised it was from you. I had gotten into the nasty habit of not looking through my mail to keep my hopes in the gutter, and of course the one time that I really stick with that it turns out you’d written to me. I’ve never been lucky, so I should’ve guessed.
Part of me wants to be a little pissed, but I can’t even manage to be irritated with how happy I am. The fact that it’s you, that you’re still there, that I might even get to see you soon- now I really feel like a kid again, but it’s fucking incredible. However, if you do start ignoring me again (I say that with all the affection I can muster, which is a hell of a lot), I’m going to actually be pissed. Feel free to tell me you’re busy, but don’t leave me in the dark with Younghoon as my only reconnaissance and Kevin as my sole human companion.
I’m free on the weekend of the twelfth, if that works for you. What do you want to do? I have so much I want to show you, and two days isn’t nearly enough for all of it, so I’ll try and slice it down into easy-to-digest bits. I definitely want to take you to meet Sangyeon and co. though, and to that bookstore.
Your new pictures are up on my bulletin board (thank you), but I still want us to take more when you’re here. I can easily swipe Kevin’s polaroid camera, though I’m sure he’d want to tag along either way.
(That’s Changmin in the one picture you sent, right? Take him with you, if you want. I’d be happy to meet him properly, as your friend this time rather than as your squirrelly coworker.)
Anyways, call me. Let me know if that works for you, I can even pay for your ticket(s!) up to Seoul if you want. I don’t wanna be missing you for much longer, so come quick, alright?
- Juyeon
(ps. It’s raining as I write this. Isn’t that kinda weird? For early march, at least. Maybe that’s just Seoul. It’s really nice, actually, because the sun’s coming through a break in the clouds and lighting up the rain, so it’s making everything look glittery- okay, not the best description, but it’s hard to put into words. Trust me. I’m gonna try and get a picture of it with Kevin’s camera, and I’m sure by now you’ll be aware of how successful I was because I’m definitely going to send it to you if it looks good. Right out my window, I can see the beam and the way the sunlight hits all the droplets. It looks intentional, like it was done by hand, if that makes any sense. Is that a silly thing to say? Maybe. I don’t know. I just wish you were here to see it.)
The next day, a new photo joins the wall of letters, taped up with the utmost care. It’s strange, how similar Juyeon’s sky looks to theirs, but it just makes Jaehyun feel that bit closer to him even with the distance. Staring at the overexposed polaroid, bright white in some places, he clutches the receiver a bit tighter in his hand and focuses on the gentle sound of the shower running in the background. He punches in a sequence of numbers, one he’s never used before but knows by heart- he kept it on a piece of paper in his wallet, scribbled underneath Juyeon’s name and his new Seoul address. As the dial tones play out, his heart pounds and his breath gets caught in his throat, but he keeps waiting even when it begins to feel unbearable.
And then, a click.
“Hello?”
Jaehyun inhales, exhales, and tries:
“Hey, Juyeon.”
“Jaehyun?”
Juyeon’s voice is distorted through the phone, but even with all the crackling and the electrical hum, it’s still so distinctly Juyeon that Jaehyun feels his heart swell with affection.
“Yeah,” he says, and hopes his voice doesn’t sound nearly so shaky on Juyeon’s end.
“It’s me.”