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Heeseung scrubs his hands across his face, hard and casts another glance over his shoulder, praying that he hasn’t been noticed.
Jaehyuk. Stupid Jaehyuk. Stupid, attractive, delightful, heartbreaker Jaehyuk. The said man glances around at the other bar-goers before his face lights up and he begins walking towards a table. His hair is pulled back into a small ponytail – a man bun, brushed back to keep it fully out of his eyes, but Heeseung can see where a few strands have escaped. God, he misses running his fingers through those black locks.
The thought makes Heeseung chew at his lip. He knew he wasn’t over Jaehyuk, but this is a bit ridiculous. The latter is settling at a table, a pretty girl on his left. They must be on a date from the way she leans into him, laughing and nodding along to whatever he’s saying. He reclines back, checking his phone here and there and occasionally glancing at the door. They’re probably meeting someone else.
Heeseung sighs and finishes off his drink. It’s going to be a long night. Another glance over his shoulder tells him that Jaehyuk hasn’t noticed him, which only slightly calms his nerves. He orders another drink and slides off the stool onto surprisingly steady feet, making his way over to a table behind the object of his desires.
“I can’t believe it’s been so long!” says the girl, tracing her fingers along the rim of her glass.
Jaehyuk laughs and nods, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah… Like I said, there were some flings in school, but it was never that serious.”
Heeseung’s grip on his glass tightens, and he snaps his gaze up to the pair. Not that serious? They dated for the vast majority of college; spent practically every moment together, even moved into an off-campus apartment. They’d been talking about getting a cat; fuck, Heeseung had been planning on bringing Jaehyuk to his parents' house for the holidays that year.
He was devastated by the breakup.
Heeseung had done everything in his power to appease Jaehyuk at the time, had done everything he could to stay friends with him. It didn’t work. They’d stayed in some vague form of contact for a decent amount of time until one day, Heeseung’s “how are you” text had bounced. He accepted the fact that he had lost the love of his life and began to do his best to move on.
And now he’s here. Sure, he’s unaware of Heseung’s presence and almost completely unattainable, but he’s still here. Still just as lovely and funny as Heeseung remembers.
Heeseung misses what the girl is saying because he is too preoccupied with watching her hands slide up to Jaehyuk’s bicep and squeeze it. She’s completely smitten. He can’t blame her, Jaehyuk is the ideal potential partner.
Suddenly, Jaehyuk stands up, waving to catch the attention of someone near the door. Heeseung’s heart sinks when he recognizes the pair.
Jay and Jungwon. Of course, it’s them, because this is Hell and Heeseung is forced to watch his ex-boyfriend and ex-best friends go on a cute little double date while he drowns his sorrows in overpriced beer and shitty bar peanuts.
He wanted to stay friends with them after the breakup. Even after he’d given up on Jaehyuk, he knew he could text Jay or Jungwon and still get a response. His conversations with Jay had been short, but always friendly; often consisting of them shooting the shit for an hour or so until one of them had to go. Heeseung had ruined it when, drunk and depressed, he called Jay and told him he was jealous of how stable he and Jungwon were, had begged and pleaded that he talk to Jaehyuk on his behalf.
Despite Jay claiming that he wasn’t upset or angry, Heeseung had taken it upon himself to cut all contact with him and pretend it never happened. Jungwon had reached out, done his best to bring his friend back to the light. Heeseung, still enraged, depressed and deeply hurt, had lashed out. And as forgiving as Jungwon had been, Heeseungn was far too embarrassed by his actions to attempt to close the gap again.
Jay casts a glance over, causing Heeseung to jolt and look away, praying he was able to hide his face in time to avoid being recognized.
He feels like shit. He’s hunched over, nursing a beer he doesn’t even like while listening to people he once considered family talk about their lives. Jaehyuk has returned to school to study writing. Jay and Jungwon have bought a house together and are preparing to move in, and Heeseung can’t deny the ache in his heart because he can’t help them.
This is unhealthy, right? It has to be.
Heeseung sits there, his gaze darting between the men who were once so dear to him. They look so happy together, so comfortable. It makes him tear up, remembering the nights when they would all do this exact thing, how happy it made him to spend hours and hours squished into a booth in some restaurant, laughing until he felt lightheaded.
Jaehyuk and the girl are both standing and picking up their jackets. Are they leaving? Oh fuck, they’re leaving together! Heeseung is on his feet before he realizes. Jay and Jungwon join them a moment later, sharing a gentle kiss before gathering their belongings. Alright, maybe they’re all leaving together, then.
He follows them outside, keeping his head down and fiddling with his phone. He tries to keep his distance to avoid being noticed, eventually leaning against the wall a few meters away.
The group huddles together, talking and laughing with each other. Jaehyuk pulls out his phone and says something to the girl before handing it over to her so she can type something in. Heeseung’s heart drops into his stomach. They’re definitely leaving together.
He sighs and slumps against the wall, slamming his head against the rough stone. He just wants to watch them until they leave, then walk home and pretend this night never happened. He’s such an embarrassment, even to himself.
Heeseung watches in silence as Jaehyuk opens the door of the taxi for his date. Will he ever not be charming? She laughs and pulls him close so she can place a delicate, barely-there kiss on his lips and whisper something to him before she slides into the car. Even from his spot against the wall, Heeseung can see Jaehyuk’s cheeks flush as he takes a step back. He misses being able to do that.
Jaehyuk, Jay, and Jungwon stay together for a bit, finishing their conversation while waiting for another car to arrive. Finally, the two men are gone, and Jaehyuk stands there in the night air, watching them drive away. He smiles to himself and releases a slow breath, before walking back towards the bar. He pauses to reach into his pocket and pull out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Heeseung tilts his head, When did he pick that up?
He knocks one out of the pack with a practiced tap of his fingers on its bottom and puts it between his lips. Jaehyuk’s shoulders droop, dejected, and he glances at a few of the other patrons who are still loitering around. Suddenly, he goes still, his dark brown eyes widening.
“Heeseung?”
He tenses, face becomes hot as he realizes he’s been spotted. He pushes down the urge to run away and straightens up, “Good to see you again, Jaehyuk.”
“Shit, I, uh… How are you?” Jaehyuk stumbles over his words before he remembers what he was doing and quickly pulls the cigarette from between his lips.
Heeseung shrugs, digging a lighter from his jacket pocket and holding it out. “Could be better. Who’s your lady-friend?”
Jaehyuk accepts the offer, cupping a large hand around the flame before automatically tucking the lighter into his pocket. Smoke curls out from between his lips, drifting up and into the night air. “Friend of Jungwon’s. He and Jay have been trying to set me up with someone for a while now.”
So he’s single. “And? Hasn’t been going well?”
He scoffs, another puff of smoke escaping his mouth, “Not even slightly. Everyone’s been nice, but it’s just not right.” It seems to register who he’s talking to, and Jaehyuk coughs quietly, “Why are we even talking about this? We haven’t talked in, what, a year?”
“Almost two.” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, trying not to look as tired and angry as he feels, “you changed your number.”
Jaehyuk goes rigid, “I had to. I needed a new phone and they wouldn’t let me out of the contract with the old one.”
“And what, you just forgot to reach out?”
“I-- We broke up, Heeseung. We are no longer together.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, “It’s weird for us to even be talking right now.”
Every well-planned, scathing remark vanished, not the mere footprint of one remained in his head. Instead, Heeseung reaches a hand out and plucks the cigarette from between Jaehyuk’s lips, bringing it to his own and takes a deep drag. It’s a way too brazen of a move, and he expects the latter to be annoyed or disgusted, but instead, it has its desired effect; a light blush settles on Jaehyuk’s cheeks. Good.
“When did this start?” Heeseung holds up the cigarette.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Jaehyuk huffs and crosses his arms, “Not long after… you know.”
Heeseung nods, taking another drag before handing it back, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to talk you out of it.”
Jaehyuk laughs through his nose, “You probably wouldn’t have been able to. All things considered, smoking is the least destructive habit I could’ve picked up.”
“And your knee?”
The younger man sighs, reaching up to rub at his neck, “I mean… What do you expect? It ruined my career. Healed or not, I can’t exactly get my life back.”
Heeseung nods, his gaze falling to the ground. Images swirl in his memory: Jaehyuk in the hospital bed, high out of his mind on painkillers, giggling at everything. Jaehyuk in that same hospital bed, fighting back tears as he was told he’d need surgery. In hindsight, that’s really when their relationship started to fall apart.
“Heeseung, I--” Jaehyuk takes a breath, “I owe you an apology. A real one. I was so caught up in my own shit that I forgot you also had stuff going on, and I just… I’m sorry.”
“Bit too late, isn’t it?”
“I know, but it’s the least I can do. I don’t want you to hate me.”
A bitter laugh escapes Heeseung’s lips, “That’s it, then? You don’t want me to hate you? What, do you also want my blessing so you can go and fuck whatever slut-of-the-week Jungwon and Jay set you up with?” He’s being unnecessarily cruel, but he can’t stop the venom-drenched words from spilling forth. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you since we broke up, and it had to be the night you were on some fucking blind date.”
“Heeseung--”
“Did you even fucking notice how she was touching you? She was acting as if you’re the last man on the planet, hanging onto every stupid word you said. God, it’s a miracle she didn’t try to drag you to the restroom so she can get your dick in her.”
Jaehyuk snaps, “Why do you care?! We’re not together anymore, Heeseung, it’s not your job to decide who I sleep with or not!”
He’s well aware that he’s in the wrong. It’s obvious he’s in the wrong; even with his alcohol-addled mind, Heeseung knows he’s being a jealous asshole. But god, he wants this to hurt. He wants to twist the knife that much deeper and sever that little connection he’s been hanging onto for dear life. Let him plummet to Hell, it’s only fair at this point.
“I kept an eye on you two. The way she was holding onto you as if you’re already hers. And the way she kissed you before she left?”
Jaehyuk goes still, eyes wide with rage and sorrow and something deeper, “Is that your problem, Heeseung? That she kissed me? This whole fucking blow-out is because of some stupid kiss?!”
Heeseung glances around. The patrons on the patio have fallen silent as they watch the two men spit insults at each other. The bouncer, too, seems to be interested in their squabble, stepping out of the door frame in case he needs to intervene. If they keep this going, they’ll be kicked out for sure.
Before he can say anything, Jaehyuk grabs his wrist and pulls him down the sidewalk and away from prying eyes. They duck into an alcove just off the street.
“Jaehyuk, we--”
Heeseung doesn’t get the sentence out before his back collides with bricks and Jaehyuk’s lips are on his. It’s harsh, almost painful, with the amount of force behind it.
Jaehyuk breaks away, panting. “Is this what you wanted, hee? Is this what you were missing?” His voice is downright menacing, “or was it this?”
Teeth sink into the pale skin of Heeseung’s throat, and the lean man moans. His eyes roll back in his head and he weaves his finger through Jaehyuk’s hair, completely ruining that cute little bun he’d been admiring earlier.
“Jae-- Jaehyuk--” he pants out, doing his best to angle his head to nip at the said man’s earlobe. “Take me home. Please, fuck, I want you.”
Jaehyuk nods in agreement, hoisting Heeseung up just a little higher. Jaehyuk begins walking down the sidewalk, seemingly with a destination in mind, which perplexes the latter. He wants to ask but instead opts to lick a rapidly cooling trail across Jaehyuk’s throat.
With hunger in his eyes, Jaehyuk slams Heeseung to the wall again, “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right now,” he growls. Heeseung has to fight everything in his heart begging to let Jaehyuk do just that.
Jaehyuk keeps going, hands squeezing the backs of Heeseung’s thighs hard enough to leave bruises. Finally, he turns a corner and sets the smaller man down. He’s not even out of breath as he rummages through his pocket for his keys.
And that’s when Heeseung realizes they’re only a few blocks away from the bar. Dear God, has he really been this close the whole time? How many nights had Heeseung been to that exact place, unknowingly so close to the man he’s wanted for so long.
Before he can think about anything else, Jaehyuk pushes open the door and grabs Heeseung by the collar. It’s almost frightening, the strength behind his movements. Feels good. He follows Jaehyuk around the apartment, unable to take in more than a few cursory glances of his surroundings.
Jaehyuk wraps an arm around Heeseung’s waist and tosses him onto the bed. He crawls over the smaller man, darkening his mark from earlier and leaving a menagerie of new ones. “Remember this, Heeseung?” Teeth scrape over his jugular, “remember how fucking good you always were for me?” More dark marks are sucked into his skin. Each bite sends a jolt of electricity through Heeseung’s muddled brain. His hands find their way under Jaehyuk’s shirt, nails scraping over skin.
After many long minutes of Jaehyuk leaving violet bruises, the men strip their clothes and toss them to the floor. Both are painfully hard. Heeseung despises himself for taking pleasure in this. Enjoying the touch of the man who had caused him so much pain.
You can leave whenever, Heeseung reminds himself. And yet, he does nothing to pull away.
“Make yourself useful and fuck me, already.” Sharp memories make for sharper words. Heeseung almost feels regret for snipping at his partner. Almost.
Jaehyuk takes it in stride, though.
Heeseung manages to keep himself from begging. He has enough control for that, at least. But still, he wants more, so much more. He reaches up, finding a fistful of Jaehyuk’s hair, and yanks the man closer. Jaehyuk obliges his obvious want and kisses him deeply, teeth snagging his bottom lip hard enough to break skin.
He nips at Heeseung’s jaw, ear, any place he knows will get a breathy little moan. Finally, Heeseung can take no more of the brutally slow pace. He yanks Jaehyuk’s head back by the hair, “Fuck me like you mean it, jae.”
Jaehyuk glares at him as Heeseung drops his head back. He can’t stop the little smirk that crawls onto his lips, “You got it, kitten.”
The shift is instant. With one hand, Jaehyuk pins Heeseung’s wrists above his head, while the other finds the smaller man’s throat. He squeezes the sides of Heeseung’s neck, not hard enough to actually choke him, but enough for the young man to squeak at the sensation. He picks up the pace, thrusting his hips hard and fast.
The older man is panting, moaning, wrists twisting so he can grip onto the sheets with all his strength. He finally feels complete again, whole. For almost two years, he’s felt like he’s been cobbled together, held together by only spite and will alone, and now, Jaehyuk is there to catch him again, even if it’s just for a brief moment. It’s not healthy to put so much of oneself into a one-night-stand with an ex, but god, it feels so damn good.
Heeseung is close, he can feel himself getting closer and closer to his end. Jaehyuk releases Heeseung’s hands and throat, looping his arms around the older man’s thighs to pull him back into every thrust. Jaehyuk gives him a long, slow, tight-gripped stroke from base to tip.
“Jaehyuk, I’m clo--”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish speaking before Jaehyuk clamps his teeth down into his throat, spilling deep inside of him. Between the warmth deep in his stomach, the pressure of the man over him, the teeth in his throat, he feels like he’s losing himself. It’s all too much, too much. And then he’s gone.
/////
The pair break apart, breathing heavily. Jaehyuk slowly pulls out, hissing at how sensitive he is before collapsing on the bed. He rakes a hand through his hair and moves a little closer to Heeseung, gently running his long fingers over the other man’s arm. Some things never change.
As much as he wants to stay, wants to lie there and cuddle up with Jaehyuk to enjoy the afterglow, he just can’t. His hurt is still swirling around his head and clawing at his heart. Instead, he gets out of bed on wobbly legs and begins searching for his clothes.
“Hey,” Jaehyuk sits up on his elbows, a relaxed smile on his lips, “come sit for a minute.”
Everything hurts, then. The memories of this exact scenario from so many times before. Heeseung shakes his head as if he can somehow shake the memories of them cooking breakfast together after a lazy Sunday morning fuck in the golden air of their shared apartment. “I’ve got to go.”
“Please, hee” his voice has that soft little air to it that has always made his heart melt. “Maybe we can talk for a bit? I--”
“No.” Heeseung snaps, sinching his belt.
There’s silence for a long moment before a quiet sniffle reaches Heeseung’s ear. He has to fight to keep from looking. He knows that if he sees Jaehyuk cry, he’ll break.
No. No, he has to move on. He has moved on, is what he keeps telling himself, knowing full-well it’s a lie. He slips on his shoes, not bothering to tie them, and walks across the room. He turns to shut the door, taking one last longing look at the shape of the young man on the bed, doing his best to ignore the quiet sniffles that are coming more frequently.
The door shuts with a click.
He can walk away whenever, this proves it. He’s over it. Over the hurt, over them. He’s fine. Right?