Chapter Text
"How did I do?“
"Good!“ Taeyong can’t hide the excitement in his voice, big eyes twinkling as he holds up an okay sign at Doyoung. “Good enough to be released.”
“You wouldn’t be able to afford me, hyung,” he says, matter-of-factly, “even when I’m not an idol anymore.”
He could almost hear the older rolling his eyes so far back he might even be able to see his brain, “breaks my heart that your star disease is incurable.”
Doyoung ignores him and hangs the headset on the mic stand before exiting the recording booth, shivering only a little at the difference in temperature once he’s outside. It takes a second to adjust, but it feels really nice – comforting even, after three hours spent inside a tiny room with almost no air circulation in the middle of summer exhausting his entire respiratory system just for three minutes of usable footage.
He’d never admit this, but sometimes Doyoung does agree with Taeyong (begrudgingly though) that he’s such a pain in the ass for being so… particular , to put it nicely, about even the humidity level of the recording booth whenever he comes to help with a demo. Then again he’s been singing long enough to know what a little cold air could do to his throat, and moreover it all pays off in the end anyway – if the way Taeyong is practically vibrating in satisfaction as he replays the recording was any indication.
“You’re like, really good,” he sighs, “I’m almost pissed that only a few people would get to hear this.”
Taeyong has never been stingy with compliments, ever since the first time he had locked them both inside Vocal Room 1, played the first song he’d ever composed for Doyoung then asked him with big, twinkly eyes if Doyoung could try singing the chorus. Doyoung on the other hand has never quite learned how not to feel awkward being at the receiving end, so he always chooses the same easy way out.
“Flattery gets you nowhere. You still have to buy me dinner, Lee Tyong.”
“Was kinda worried I wouldn’t be able to afford even a demo,” his laughter echoes throughout the empty studio, and it cracks Doyoung up too, “even when you’re no longer an idol.”
Truth be told: it still amazes him every time they laugh about it, talk about it casually like it’s just another topic at dinner. Well it quite literally is a dinner topic now, though, when Doyoung manages to crack a relatively funny joke after someone came up to them at the barbecue restaurant later that evening, and promptly asked him to take a photo for her with Taeyong. It was kind of funny, he admits. His jaw hurts so much from laughing, and Taeyong’s still wiping the soju he’s spat out on their table.
(“Never beating that nugu-allegation am I.”)
That’s why his first reaction when Taeyong mentions something about a reunion, is to laugh. It takes him a good minute before realizing that he’s the only one laughing this time, and Taeyong is only looking at him with those damned big eyes of his, like Doyoung stole his lunch money or something.
“It’s our anniversary. Mark mentioned it the other day, and I was just... I don’t know,” he blinks, slowly like a cat. “I was somehow hopeful, Doyoung.”
He throws back a drink, savoring the taste of liquor on his tongue. It really has been that long, huh. So many years since they debuted as a team, and several years since they were no longer one. It’s kind of bitter, he thinks. The liquor. Doyoung takes a deep breath.
“Hyung, we can’t even mention the name of our group anymore without being sued for copyrights. All our songs have never been ours. And also it’d be really hard to match everyone’s schedules, not to even mention me.”
“Why not mention you? Aren’t you also a part of everyone?”
There’s only the sizzling sound of pork cooking on the grill platter between them, and oh, Doyoung really is too innocent to think they’d ever be able to truly just laugh about it all. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the way Taeyong’s letting out the longest sigh humanly possible as he pours more soju into his empty glass, but it’s making him a little sick with nerves, like he’s transported right back to his first ever skill evaluation as a trainee all those years ago.
“Just promise me you’d think about it.” Taeyong breaks the silence first, not being able to hide the scowl at the taste of soju after emptying his glass in one shot. In any other context Doyoung would even find it cute, how he’s still reacting to alcohol like a child to bitter medicine and turning bright red at half a sip. “And if you have to say no, do it without any excuse. Not when I already know the real reason.”
He doesn’t look at Taeyong when he finally utters a weak okay.
Your voice needs to be heard, hyung, the kid had said. You can’t just disappear like that, you can’t!
Donghyuck was furious. Like, nostrils flaring, top of his lungs screaming, slamming the table furious. Doyoung would never admit it, but he personally found the kid’s tantrum far more interesting than whatever else went down before the news about their disbandment broke out.
Because nothing ever went down. At all.
Contrary to what seemed like eight hundred conspiracy theories people had speculated about the reason behind them going separate ways, it really was never that dramatic. At some point the name ‘NCT 127’ had become not nearly big enough to house nine people's worth of ambitions, that was it. Nine people with unimaginable amounts of potential and talent. Ambitions headed in very, very different directions, none of which aligned with whatever their company had mapped out for them. Or precisely, the few members they’d offered contract renewals to. It was hardly even a discussion; it was a conclusion from the get go.
“I think I’ll leave,” Doyoung remembered saying.
“I don’t know if you missed it,” Jungwoo chuckled, “but we’re all leaving, hyung.”
“As in, this industry.”
In their last night spent together at the dorm, they’d talked about it over some drinks. Nothing too strong though, in case someone straight up passed out in the middle of a very, very serious conversation. Said conversation, however, did end with them bawling their eyes out the exact same way they did when they won the rookies award years ago anyway, so maybe alcohol percentage didn’t really matter that much. They’d cried, told each other you’ve done so well, made new promises as they looked back on old ones they’d fulfilled together. There really wasn’t anything dramatic about it.
Not before long minutes of silence and eventually, Donghyuck’s explosion, though. Doyoung had imagined, had prepared himself for a million possible ways his members would react to his decision, but it didn’t make witnessing it any easier.
“Why, hyung? Why must you? You love music so much, you love it more than any of us!”
He gathered their youngest into his arms before uttering any answer, but Doyoung heard the kid’s tiny, heartbreaking sob before it got muffled in the fabric of his hoodie anyway. His heart clenched in his chest, and every inhale felt painful.
“What about me, hyung, what would I do without you?”
Doyoung remembered crying, too, as he rubbed circles onto Donghyuck’s back, repeating It’s okay, I got you, I’m just a call away, always over and over again into the crown of his head, and feeling the warmth of a hand reaching over to wipe a stray tear off his cheek. He remembered a gentle hand ruffling his hair, remembered strong and safe arms around him, remembered soft sleeves dabbing his tears dry when he finally let Donghyuck go, not any less of a teary, snotty mess. He remembered a hand holding his tightly, and remembered resting his head on a strong shoulder, nuzzling into a familiar warmth.
Ah, they’re all here, Doyoung inhaled, my boys.
“Ew, we really are no-jam city until the end huh? How come not even one of our gatherings was fun?”
Donghyuck said after the collective sniffling had finally subsided and cracked everyone up, the way only he ever could. They looked so weird like this, eyes teary and noses red, dried tear tracks on their puffy faces, and yet they were all laughing hysterically like they’d witnessed the pinnacle of comedy or something. God, a bunch of grown men like them sobbing then laughing uncontrollably after a mere sip of alcohol was probably more news-worthy than the whole contract renewal ordeal at this point. How were they still like this after all these years?
He took a look at the boys he spent half of his life with, his boys, currently making fun of each other’s red faces and provoking each other to drink more, singing as loud as they were offkey, tickling each other and fighting over the last piece of fried chicken - and for the first time Doyoung felt like, yeah, it was all going to be okay.
It’s okay, they got him, always. Doyoung remembered thinking at that very moment.
Maybe.
It was when Jungwoo, Mark and Donghyuck started snoring loudly as they cuddled up on the couch, when Taeyong started cleaning up the dirty glasses and emptied bottles, and Taeil started getting mildly annoyed because Johnny kept trying to hug him as they snuck out the balcony for a smoke, that Doyoung felt a tug at the hem of his hoodie.
“Hyung, can we talk?” Jaehyun said, voice quiet.
In the very same fashion he used to raid Doyoung’s mini fridge back in the day, Jungwoo waltzes into his restaurant without reservation, and orders almost everything off the menu.
“Someone is coming too, it’s not all for me.” The boy sticks his tongue out at Doyoung when he tries to tell him it’s too much food for one person. “He just landed, I think. Missed Korean food so much and begged me to take him to a good place, so I had to bring him here. Wait, where are you going?”
He shrugs his arm free from Jungwoo’s grip and sticks his tongue out at the kid, “I have to relay your order, child. I kind of work here if you didn’t notice.”
“Alright,” Jungwoo lets him go then, “can’t understand why you have to help out when this is literally your restaurant.”
“It’s my parents’ restaurant, not mine.”
Technically, Jungwoo isn’t wrong.
It was one of the first things he did after retiring actually, using a part of his savings to open a small restaurant for his mom. Doyoung knew she’d always wanted to do it, only hesitated so long because running a restaurant really isn’t just about cooking and serving good food. It was just a small place with not even ten tables serving home-cooked style food, the private room was never in the plan until the boys - especially Jungwoo and Donghyuck - took their promise to come and support business a tad too seriously.
And the fact that Donghyuck is now one of the best solo artists, while Jungwoo has the entire fashion industry kneeling at his feet means a little privacy should be guaranteed everywhere they wander to. The private dining room basically exists only because of his boys.
But Doyoung does love helping around here, even on days the boys don’t visit.
His mom insists that the time he’s not spent studying should be used for sleeping and resting, though, but it’s fun, really. After all, it's very rare that anyone recognizes him anymore, and hearing people’s chatter, laughters, even drunken rants about their asshole bosses or cheating partners really proves to be surprisingly effective at relieving the insurmountable amount of academic stress Doyoung was under.
God, it really wasn’t easy when he first delved back into studying. Just thinking back of that period of time is already stressing Doyoung out, but even now when he’s made it out well and alive, he still loves to help out around here.
“Ah there he is! Look who’s here, hyung!”
When Doyoung comes back with a tray of side dishes, there’s already one more person in the private room. Sitting opposite Jungwoo, black cap covering almost half his face, oversized hoodie and gray track pants like he’d just walked out of their dance practice years ago. Like he’d just walked out from the tangled mess of something Doyoung’s tried to bury deep in a drawer of his heart he’d not dared to open for far too long.
“It’s been a while, hyung.”
He sounds sleepy, the thought flashes by Doyoung’s mind.
It takes Doyoung a little too much effort to unfreeze himself, but he manages to put the tray down before his trembling hands become too noticeable. With a little more effort, he puts on a smile that’d hopefully appear appropriate for when one encounters a former colleague one has not seen in three years. He hopes.
“Have you been well, Jaehyun-ah?”
“I’ll be better once I have some korean food in my system,” Jaehyun takes off his cap then, flashing two full dimples at Doyoung like his mere existence alone didn’t knock the last breath out of his lungs already. “But I’ve been well, I think.”
Better than well, Doyoung thinks. Anyone with eyes and ears would have heard of Jaehyun’s name at least once, have seen him on the big or even small screen at least once - after all there’s a reason why he’s been winning Best Actor of the Year two consecutive years and there was hardly any objection from the public, or critics alike.
“And you, hyung? What have you been up to?” Jaehyun takes off his cap, and smiles. Now this is just unfair, isn’t it.
Doyoung wants to bolt.
Unfortunately, Jungwoo doesn’t let him use the same reasoning of having to help out to leave this time. It’s kind of fascinating how Jungwoo can still pull the puppy eyes act to get what he wants despite being twenty-freaking-nine, but Doyoung hardly has a choice other than sitting down and in Jungwoo’s words, catch up because it’s been forever and I’m about to forget your voice! (That was a lie. Jungwoo just dragged Mark here last week.)
“Finally some kimchi jjigae that’s not watered down,” Jaehyun sighs, two spoonfuls into his freshly served pot of stew. “I could cry.”
Doyoung snorts.
Jaehyun proves he does mean it and wasn’t just trying to flatter Doyoung because it’s his mom’s cooking though - judging from the way he’s inhaling food faster than even Jungwoo. And Jungwoo is a top model who’d just survived a month of bootcamp dieting plus exercising in preparation for fashion week, so that’s definitely saying something.
Doyoung on the other hand is not so lucky, however. He can hardly taste whatever he’s chewing. Not so easy when it’s Jaehyun, in flesh and blood, sitting opposite him.
He takes a look. Carefully. When he’s sure no one’s watching.
Saying Jaehyun’s been well definitely is an understatement, if one goes by the way he looks. It’s one thing to see him on the big screen as internationally acclaimed A-list actor Jung Jaehyun, and another thing to look at Jaehyun right now, in this humble setting with messy hair, obvious dark circles from jetlag, stuffing his face and humming low everytime a bite hits the spot, and realizes that yeah, time’s definitely been treating Jaehyun more than well.
It’s a mixture of maturity where he’s all chiseled jaw and shoulders even broader than they already were, yet somehow Jaehyun doesn’t look a day older than the twenty-one year-old who called Doyoung a coward all those years ago. How funny is that?
No, go back. He chants to himself. Go back to that drawer in his heart.
Food is a good distraction, and thank God they do get to talk and catch up like Jungwoo so wished for. Doyoung only gets to answer Jaehyun’s earlier question much later though, once all the food on the table is almost wiped clean off, Jungwoo’s out to take a call, and Jaehyun repeats it again.
“What have you been up to, hyung?”
“I’ve been studying. Sometimes I teach too, but not too often. I’ve also been traveling a bit, but mostly just studying.” He almost feels embarrassed that several years of his life could easily be summarized in only so many words, especially in comparison to what Jaehyun’s achieved, but Doyoung continues regardless. “Will hopefully be done with my masters this August. Hopefully.”
Jaehyun only hums, like he’s unsatisfied with the answer he’s gotten. Doyoung could very well be wrong, though. It’s just a feeling.
“I know. I even know you’ve been composing under a pen name, giving vocal lessons to trainees of some companies, visiting Taeyong hyung’s studio to help recording demos and doing charity work twice a month. ”
Doyoung laughs, head dropping between his shoulders. It’s really not Jaehyun’s fault their group chat has never been quiet for as long as Doyoung can remember, and certain chattery birds don’t necessarily become any less chattery just because they’re older and have become significantly more successful.
“You really didn’t have to ask, did you,” Doyoung sighs, “you know everything.”
“Not everything,” Jaehyun smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. And then he asks, as he glances at his watch and puts his cap back on. “I’ll stay a few months this time, let’s hang out sometime.”
Jaehyun's gone before Jungwoo even comes back. Once he does, Jungwoo immediately goes over and wraps his arms around Doyoung.
“It’s been so long already, why are you still…” he sighs. “Oh, hyung.”
Jungwoo was always much sharper and smarter than people ever gave him credit for, but it was Johnny who put his pair of sunglasses on Doyoung and shielded him from the sea of camera lenses at the airport the morning following that day.
It was nothing dramatic, really. Looking back he might even be able to say nothing really happened.
That day, they’d just finished the first day of the concert in Paris, adrenaline still thrumming in their pulses despite the fatigue threatening to take over. Doyoung thought he’d pass out the moment he was done washing up and finally got to faceplant on his hotel bed, but after a full hour of tossing and turning he was still so awake he might even be able to perform another concert right away.
you awake?
Jaehyun’s text arrived just then, and oh, how well-timed it was.
yeah, you too?
duh, i’m literally texting you.
just tell me what you’re craving, idiot
how do you know i’m hungry??
anyway, i’m not really hungry, i’m just
kinda, well
i know
come over
i have kimchi too
Did Jaehyun really expect Doyoung not to realize he was craving Korean food, when he’d been sighing at every plate of pasta they were served and complaining how spicy food in Europe wasn’t nearly as spicy as he wanted? Even without all that, did he forget they’d lived together for years and it was literally no one’s secret that Jaehyun and Donghyuck had the most korean stomachs out of them all?
the hell?! how were you not held up at security?????
Doyoung rolled his eyes and hoped Jaehyun felt it through the emoji he was about to send, but he heard the knock on his door before he managed to reply.
“You’re a lifesaver, hyung!”
“Relax, I’m just boiling water for instant noodles.” He tried hard not to laugh but to no avail. It seemed like two weeks touring around the world did affect Jaehyun more greatly than he’d let on, and Doyoung found it so funny because who would have thought? It was kind of funny, though, seeing him practically tearing up at the sight of the packet of instant kimchi Doyoung stored in his mini fridge, when just hours ago Jaehyun posted an instagram story of white wine and a charcuterie board like the classy man he was.
“I knew I could always trust you,” he took the cup of noodles from Doyoung’s hand and jerked back a little at how hot it was. “Hold on, where’s yours?”
Doyoung shook his head, “I’m still full from dinner.”
“You barely ate for dinner!” Jaehyun murmured around a mouthful of food, “I sat right next to you, you know.”
Well the truth was, he’d been given a bit of a talk about how his stage outfits had been fitting tighter recently. No big deal really, they were idols, and it was just what they had to do. Doyoung didn’t really find any problem with that, he just hated it when they asked him why he’d let himself go, like what he did was not just gaining a few pounds but giving up on his career altogether.
He didn’t let shit go, and Doyoung needed to prove that.
“You should have a taste, you did smuggle it into european territory after all,” Jaehyun pointed his fork at him, and for a second Doyoung was scared the soup would splatter all over Jaehyun’s white hoodie.
“Hey, don’t make it sound illegal!” He gasped, exaggerating his expression a little. “You wouldn’t be innocent either. I packed all this for you, you know.”
“For me?”
Doyoung regretted it the moment he heard himself saying it out loud, but it was too late. He could feel the air stiffen and wow, it really had been a while since silence felt this silent between them huh. It had taken years to change that and look at him, look at what he did, stupidly blurting out a joke no one found funny and reverting everything back to square one.
It had taken years for them to be able to joke around on stage, to sit next to each other at dinner, to grab coffee together in the morning and just be in the same room like this again and yet. All it took was some mere words too close to where the lines blurred. How ironic. All it took was this.
“Please don’t look like that, hyung,” Jaehyun chuckled lightly, breaking the silence before going back to his noodles. “I’m not going to have my hopes up. I get it, I’m not special. I’m still just a younger brother to you.”
“Jaehyunie-”
“And you? Are you still a coward?”
Whether repeating those exact words Doyoung’d said to him back then was a lighthearted joke - because yeah, they were supposed to be at the stage where they could joke about it now - or a particularly low blow: it hit the target regardless. It hurt regardless.
And one whole night of crying into his pillow clearly wasn’t enough for Doyoung to nurture the open wound, so even if it was a little mean, he totally deserved the not again, you idiot Johnny gave him the next morning.
“Put these on for now, and keep staying behind me.” He sighed, voice laced with the kind of disappointment maybe similar to what parents would feel when their children told them they wouldn’t become doctors. Only it was Johnny, after listening to Doyoung reciting the whole cup noodles story over morning coffee. “I thought you two were okay, but oh well, what do I know.”
“We are okay, hyung.”
“Good to hear,” Johnny rolled his eyes, “although you might want to be a whole lot more okay than now when we arrive at the airport, if you don’t want people to catch on.”
Jaehyun texts him two days after that time in the restaurant.
Are you free in the evening? Let’s meet up :)
Doyoung wipes the sweat in his palm on his shirt, suddenly feeling like the phone in his hand is too heavy for some reason. Relax, he tells himself. It’s just two friends meeting up after not having met for a few years. Like all the times he’s met up with Johnny when he’s back from the States, or with Yuta when he’s working in Korea like right now. That’s all.
I’ll finish at 8, if that’s not too late for you
That’d be perfect actually, my press conference ends at 7.
Alright :D Text me the address later.
Just text me where you are then
I’ll pick you up!
“Hey, you okay?” Yuta’s voice startles him a little, “you’re blushing.”
Is he? To the point even Yuta notices? Yuta, of all people?
“I’m fine. Where were we?”
“We’re in Seoul, South Korea. Now tell me who is it that makes you turn bright red? Don’t tell me… could it be…” he gasps, scandalized.
“What?” Doyoung snaps.
“Did someone send you a dick pic?”
“God, shut up!”
Great. He invited Yuta to lunch to talk over the sad, sad lyrics for a love song he’s written in Japanese, and now the man keeps mentioning a dick pic every three sentences. What a great, productive way to spend time before Doyoung could go the fuck home and pick out what to wear tonight.
He kind of wants to look okay. It’s a movie star he’s meeting. There’s no competition here, really, but well. He wants to look respectable. Presentable. There’s definitely nothing wrong with that, Doyoung tells himself.
Oh, he’s going to meet Jaehyun. He’s going to be sick. He’s already feeling sick.
“You’re spacing out again,” Yuta sighs, “okay, I changed my mind. It can’t be a hook-up. Is it finally someone serious?”
Doyoung doesn’t miss Yuta’s very deliberate emphasis on the finally. It would be kind of rude to miss it, actually, seeing how Yuta clearly wants him to notice it. So he gives him what he wants.
“What do you mean finally?”
“So you’re not denying it’s serious?”
Doyoung finally realizes that he’s walked right into Yuta’s trap, but it’s a little too late now to do anything other than regret even befriending Yuta in the first place. Except it’s also too late to do that, too, not when they’ve been friends for half of their lives and still somehow manage to become even closer after Yuta moved back to Japan.
“Well, it must be Jaehyun then.” Yuta shrugs, matter-of-factly, like what he’s just said didn’t just freak Doyoung the hell out because- “how? You want to know how I know?”
He nods.
“Oh, so you’re not denying it’s Jaehyun.” He picks up his coffee and takes a long sip, and oh, Doyoung only has himself to blame. “I was just guessing, Doyoung. Jaehyun’s back in Korea after like, what, forever? I just kinda guessed.”
They make absolutely zero progress afterwards, and if the Japanese song he’s about to record has any grammatical errors in the lyrics, let it be known that it’s entirely Yuta’s fault.
(At least Yuta gives some great suggestions on what to wear, so maybe he’ll let it slide after all.)
*
Somehow Doyoung didn’t expect Jaehyun to actually be the one driving, when he pulls up at Doyoung’s place to pick him up at exactly 8.
“Well, this is not a schedule,” Jaehyun seems to be able to read his mind and answers even before Doyoung could ask, “there’s no reason to make my manager drive me around.”
“True,” Doyoung nods, averting his eyes elsewhere after they meet Jaehyun’s in the rearview mirror. “Where are we going?”
“That Japanese restaurant with the okonomiyaki you love so much.”
Doyoung snorts.
“What? Do you not like it?”
He shakes his head, still unable to stop smiling. “No, it’s just a bit funny because I had Korean food with Yuta hyung for lunch and now Japanese with you for dinner.”
“Yeah, last time I met Yuta hyung at a film festival in LA he dragged me to Koreatown too,” Jaehyun laughs. And Doyoung doesn’t know why he’s a little relieved, but he is. “I think he’s more Korean than me.”
This brings back so many memories from the days they were touring, and they slide easily into nostalgia like it was all just yesterday they were roaming around a foreign city looking for Korean food, because homesickness sometimes hit in forms they’d not necessarily recognize until having had to live for weeks off stale pasta from room service.
It’s so easy like this. Like two friends reminiscing about old days after a long time not having met, and Doyoung feels like, yeah, they’re going to be fine.
Jaehyun teases Doyoung for being hellbent on trying McDonalds’ in every country they’d toured in. Doyoung brings back that one time Jaehyun got lost in Mexico while looking for a Korean restaurant, that their managers had to look for him for hours. Jaehyun reminds him of the time he ripped his pants in the middle of their performance. Doyoung mentions the time Jaehyun fell asleep in the middle of having his makeup done and nearly got the eyebrow pencil stabbed straight into his eyeball.
After however many remember when’s, they make it safely to the room Jaehyun reserved at the restaurant. Only after Doyoung nearly trips over the threshold though, because Jaehyun suddenly drops a whole bomb on him.
“Now that I get to see you properly, by the way,” he says, “you look great tonight, hyung.”
Doyoung can’t remember blushing so hard in his life he could physically feel the heat creeping onto his cheeks like this, he swears. Then again anyone would blush like this, if they get this kind of compliment from a movie star whose face is plastered on the front cover of probably every magazine under the sun and voted four years in a row as the most attractive man alive. This is normal, completely normal, he tells himself.
“Thanks, you… well, you must have heard this too many times already, but you look great too.”
“It’s always good coming from you. Feels better, actually.”
What is this atmosphere? Didn’t they just, you know, casually talk like friends? Making fun of each other for sleeping with their mouths open on the plane? Teasing each other for piling their clothes up so high they toppled over because they were too lazy doing laundry? What is this awkward, bordering on embarrassing atmosphere?
Oh, it’s because they have nothing but the past to talk about. Doyoung lets silence envelope them, because the thought hurts a little.
When the false sense of security offered by nostalgia disappears, it unveils such a bitter truth, and that truth is they have so little to absolutely nothing in common to talk about anymore. No matter how frequent they keep tabs on each other via the group chat, no matter how many times Doyoung’s bought tickets to see Jaehyun’s movies and how many times he’s replayed every of Jaehyun’s interview videos, the truth is he hasn’t seen Jaehyun in three years and while it might not be a long time, it was enough for their lives to go into directions that couldn’t be further apart from one another.
He wants to ask, God, he does. So much that it aches.
He wants to ask so much and to know so much about Jaehyun now , wants to know if he’s happy doing what he does, how it compares with what they used to do, how it feels like to finally achieve what they could only dream of when they were a group. But it’s not really his place anymore, so Doyoung sips on his tea instead.
“How is it, becoming a student again?” Jaehyun asks first, however. “Do people recognize you at uni?”
Doyoung smiles, “it’s fun, but it was hard at first. Not typical for a twenty-seven year-old to take up studying again starting from the last year of highschool, so some people did look at me kind of weird. But no, they don’t recognize me as NCT Doyoung anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Liar, I saw the birthday hashtag for you trending just a few months ago.”
“Well, some fans still remember me, yes. But people forget much faster than you’d think.”
It’s true. It did take Doyoung a few lengthy instagram posts asking people to give him some privacy and even threatening to sue those who sell informations of his whereabouts around, but in the show industry where new faces appear much faster than old ones disappearing, it wasn’t so difficult for people to forget a retiring idol. It was kind of a rude awakening, really, and a tad ironic too, how painfully hard it was to get to where they were as idols, yet it was so easy to become nothing but a name no one bothers mentioning anymore.
The food is served then, taking away any chance for lingering thoughts. They loosen up a bit over some drinks, and Doyoung tells Jaehyun more about how it is to study music in depth the way he never got to when he was active as singer, to understand the underlying theories of what they were trained to do for years, and how he rediscovers the fascination of music once he didn’t have to sing for a living anymore.
“Do you ever miss it?” Jaehyun asks when they’re three courses in, and Doyoung is dangerously close to having to loosen his belt.
“Oh, more than I’d like to admit,” he laughs out loud now, and it’s refreshing to finally be able to just say it. It’s funny how so many people have asked him the same question, and yet he’s only able to say the truth now, in front of someone he hasn’t seen in years. “I crave applause whenever I finish singing a song, more than anything.”
“I can imagine,” Jaehyun looks at him over the rim of his own cup, “I miss it too.”
“And yet I was so angry when the antis called me attention seeker back in the day.” Doyoung giggles, “turns out they were onto something.”
Doyoung is more than a bit taken aback when Jaehyun doesn’t laugh. Ah, so there are some things that will never be funny, Doyoung realizes, no matter how hard he tries to turn it into a laughing stock as some sort of twisted coping mechanism. Like all the hatred directed at him especially towards the end of their career as a group, all the petitions with thousands of signs asking him to leave the group, all the community posts “exposing” him of crimes he didn’t even know he committed.
It takes Jaehyun not even a glance to see through it.
“You never deserved any of it,” he says after dessert is served. “You have to know that, hyung.”
“Yeah, I definitely don’t miss it.” Doyoung tries to focus on the delicate dessert in front of him, a mochi transparent like a raindrop with a blooming sakura in the middle. It’s almost too pretty to eat, so he takes his phone out and snaps what seems like fifty photos from every possible angle, before finally sinking his spoon in.
Jaehyun’s huff of laughter surprises him.
“What?”
“You’re still the same, hyung,” Jaehyun says, “I’ve missed you so much”
Doyoung’s heart skips a beat. Oh no, no. He scrambles for a neutral response, praying Jaehyun wouldn’t notice the way his voice trembles. “Oh, of course I miss you too! The only one I see often is Taeyong hyung, but only when he’s not promoting. Jungwoo only drops by when he wants free food, Donghyuck and Mark are too busy so I only see them on vacation, and Johnny hyung and Yuta hyung-”
“You know what I mean, hyung.” Jaehyun interrupts him, his voice firm and his eyes holding Doyoung’s gaze dead still. “I’ve always meant the same thing all these years, and I’m here to tell you again. I love you.”
Doyoung wants to bolt. But he has nowhere to hide, and even if there was, it doesn’t seem like Jaehyun would let him hide anyway. He swallows dryly, hating how his voice is still shaking from sheer nerves because why the fuck must it hurt still so much to repeat the same words he’d said to Jaehyun many times before?
“I’m sorry, Jaehyun, it’s just-” he feels suffocated, but he makes himself continue, “we can’t, I mean you are-”
“You really haven’t changed one bit,” Jaehyun sighs into his palms. “I got it. You don’t need to say anything anymore.”
The ride back is quiet. Only Doyoung can hear his heart being torn into shreds.
The first time Jaehyun told him those words, Doyoung was twenty-two.
It was summer, they were in the waiting room at the backstage of a music show, barely awake because pre-recording started at seven and that meant waking up at four. Taeyong and Jungwoo were having their makeup done while the hairstylist worked on Mark, Taeil and Donghyuck were playing games on their phones together, Yuta was napping in the corner waiting for his turn, and Johnny was getting progressively crankier because their coffee hadn’t arrived yet.
Mornings like this always sucked. Even more so when their previous day practically ended this very morning, literally just a few hours ago. Did they even get to sleep for two hours? Well, not like their company cared, not like any of them even cared.
“Do you want something from the vending machine?” Jaehyun asked when Doyoung came back from the restroom, “I’m getting some juice.”
“Let me go with you,” Doyoung decided quickly and threw his jacket over himself, “I could use some cold soda.”
See, the thing was, Jaehyun was very, very good looking. Like, even for idols’ standards he was still the top three percent, no argument or reasoning needed. And the thing also was, that everyone knew vending machines in the hall of broadcasting stations were the place idols could meet and exchange numbers in secret.
To be fair it was hardly ever a secret at all, but some managers were actually humane enough to turn a blind eye and act like they didn’t just see a certain female idol handing a male idol a piece of paper together with the drink they just bought. What else would people expect to happen then, when a bunch of young, good looking people were gathered in one place? If dating bans ever worked like they should, then how boring this world would become.
So, the thing was, it wasn’t really surprising when someone finally approached Jaehyun. It had in fact happened so often Doyoung could hardly feel the twinge in his heart anymore, he was starting to get used to it even. He bent down to pick up the drinks they bought, barely paying attention to whatever was happening right behind him because why should he? It never had anything to do with him in the first place.
“Would you please take this?”
Oh, it was her. Doyoung recognized her voice immediately, because she was all the talk in town at the moment. Sang decently well, from a big company, eyes like deers’ and lips shaped like hearts, rumored to have four big named idols and even higher ups fighting for her attention. He would never have expected someone of her league to ever do this - then again, when the target we were talking about was Jaehyun then yeah, kind of understandable, Doyoung thought.
He wondered if Jaehyun would say yes this time. He wondered if this was the kind of girl Jaehyun liked, with eyes like deers and lips shaped like hearts.
“I can’t, sorry. I appreciate it, though.”
“Why?” Her voice was a whole tone higher, definitely too high pitched for someone who was trying to sneakily confess. Keyword: sneakily. “Am I not good enough?”
The dissatisfaction and something similar to competitiveness in her previously-honey dripping voice was so clear the contrast was rather dizzying to witness, and Doyoung figured she really must have never confessed before, let alone being turned down like this. Oh, she must have even felt humiliated?
“No, I just have someone I like already.”
Doyoung finally let out the laugh he was struggling to hold back once she’d stomped away far enough, earning himself a questioning quirk of Jaehyun’s eyebrows. “You’ve used that excuse for like, years already, Jaehyun-ah. Might want to start thinking up new ones.”
“What do you mean that was an excuse?”
Doyoung’s heart sank to his stomach. It wasn’t?
It was right then and there, next to a vending machine in the hall of a broadcasting station, thirty-two minutes before they had to be up on stage for pre-recording, that Jaehyun first told Doyoung: “I love you, hyung. Didn’t think I’d say it now, like this, but I haven’t slept in three days and you look kind of dumb right now, so yeah, you’re the one I like. I wasn’t using the same excuse for years, I just have liked you for years.”
*
It took Doyoung four days to give Jaehyun an answer, evenwhen Jaehyun had previously insisted that he didn’t need one.
He read the long text over and over again, making sure he’d listed all the reasons why it wouldn't work in the most logically cohesive way possible, hoping to deities he didn’t even worship that it would ring convincing enough to Jaehyun’s ears. The current momentum of their career, check. Their rising popularity, check. Consideration for other members, check. Doyoung pondered over every word choice and every comma until even he was starting to believe it, and pressed Send.
Jaehyun replied two minutes later with an okay emoji, and a single word.
Coward.
Taeyong pulls him into his arms the moment the door to his apartment closes behind them. Doyoung wipes his tears on the soft fabric of Taeyong’s pajama, making space for more to roll down his cheeks and chin, and Taeyong just lets him.
“Oh, my baby.”
He snuggles close into the crook of the older boy’s neck, feeling Taeyong jerk back a little when Doyoung’s hair tickles his bare skin. They stand there, at wee hours in the morning, on Taeyong’s dimly-lit doorstep, with Doyoung’s entire frame buried entirely into the embrace that's never failed to provide him comfort since however long it was ago.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks Doyoung once they’re finally sprawled on his big, fluffy couch, two mugs of hot chocolate on the glass table, and Doyoung is tucked safe and warm under Taeyong’s wool blanket.
It isn’t until the hot chocolate cools down enough for Doyoung to hold the mug in his hands, that he’s able to utter the first word since Jaehyun dropped him off hours ago.
“Hyung, I met him today, just the two of us.”
Doyoung doesn’t need to specify who him is, because it’s Taeyong he’s saying all this to. It’s not like there wasn’t any occasion for him and Jaehyun to meet in the past few years, and Taeyong more than anyone would know this by a fact because he’s always been the one organizing meet-ups for the boys when all, or at least most of them, are free of schedules. And yet somehow, in between Doyoung’s hectic class schedules and Jaehyun’s months-long shootings that mostly take place overseas, there wasn’t a single gathering where they both showed up.
It was so easy for them not to cross paths. Maybe it’s the way it should be.
“He told me he missed me, hyung, and that he still…” Taeyong’s hand feels warm on his back, urging him to go on. So he does, hard as it is. “He still loves me.”
Taeyong sighs. He guides Doyoung’s head to rest on his shoulder and murmurs countless it’s okay, I’m here, take your time until whenever Doyoung's ready to talk again. Taeyong has always been like that, so gentle and loving no matter how unkind the world always is to him, so willing to lick Doyoung’s wounds and hide him in the safest corner of the earth until they turn into scars and no longer hurt. He’s so much stronger than anyone could ever imagine, enough to hold all of Doyoung’s broken pieces together so he was able to stand on stage and sing for as long as he could.
When a lie is repeated many enough times, you kind of just start thinking it’s the truth.
Taeyong was the first, and for a very long time also the only one, to notice the precise moment Doyoung started believing all the vile words people had commented on his Instagram, mailed to their company, sent to their dorms and even to his parents’ house. Taeyong was the one holding his trembling hands until they were no longer cold, telling him how pretty his voice was, how beautiful his eyes were, and reminding him everyday how loved he was.
He had protected Doyoung in ways even Doyoung wasn’t aware of, letting Doyoung confide in him on days life wasn't treating him nicely, like a lighthouse Doyoung could always find his way back to no matter how stormy the seas were.
But Taeyong can be brutally frank when that’s what Doyoung needs.
“Doyoung, you’re being very unfair to him,” Taeyong says then, voice gentle as ever.
“Why? I turned him down each and every time, I never led him on.”
Taeyong nods, running his hand through Doyoung’s hair the way one would pet a cat. “Have you ever figured out why he called you a coward?”
He shakes his head.
“Oh, I’ve raised an idiot,” Taeyong deadpans, mirth coloring his tone. It somehow makes the weight pressing against Doyoung’s heart feel a lot lighter, magically. “What do you do when you don’t know something, Doyoung?”
Taeyong puts him out of his misery in the end, because he’s always soft for Doyoung like that, but he makes sure to flick Doyoung hard on his forehead first.
“You ask, Doyoung. If you don’t know something, you ask.”
“I love you, hyung.”
Jaehyun said once they were alone in Doyoung’s room. Well, not exactly. From tomorrow onwards it would not be his room anymore, and this place would no longer be the dorm they’d called home for years anymore.
“I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, hyung.”
When Jaehyun asked if they could talk, Doyoung already had an idea where it might be headed. And yet hearing those words again from Jaehyun’s lips so many years after the first time he’d heard it, so many years of trying to staying away from where the ice was thin, pretending they could just go back to being bandmates who share the stage and a dream, oh, how could it still hurt the same? Yet it did, it hurt as much if not even more than the four days he spent looking for every reason to justify a single, simple, plain no.
Jaehyun walks into his space right then, too close to be appropriate for two soon-to-be former colleagues and no, no, he can’t let this happen. It had taken so long for them to finally be where they were now, years worth of tiptoeing around each other to the point fans started questioning why they were never seen together and their company actively editing out even the tiniest, most trivial of their interactions to avoid rumors, it had taken so long until they were fine again.
“Hyung, I love you, and I want to be with you. We’re no longer bound by contracts, and I…” Jaehyun was so close Doyoung could feel the warmth of his breath fanning on his skin with every word he spoke, “I just want to be with you so bad, hyung.”
Doyoung turned away just in time, and Jaehyun’s lips landed on his cheek. He took a step back and placed both hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders, feeling his blood run cold, because it was taking him every bit of restraint not to give in.
God, he wanted so bad he felt disgusted with himself for how much he wanted. Jaehyun didn’t deserve any of it.
But: “Jaehyun-ah, listen to me,” Doyoung tried to find his voice again. “It might not have been what you think. Maybe it was hero worship, I don’t know, I’m not that great but we’d practically lived in each other’s pocket and maybe you just haven’t had so many chances to find the right person.”
“Hyung, I’m not a child. And I’m also not dumb.”
“That’s not what I meant! I just…” Doyoung continued, each word felt like it was covered in thorns as it came out of his mouth. “There’s so much ahead of you, Jaehyun. Unlike me, you’re still on this path and you will soon realize that I would just be holding you back.”
Jaehyun brushed his hands off his shoulders, and started laughing out loud.
“That’s a lot of words for no,” he says, still laughing, but his eyes were sad. Doyoung didn’t dare to take a second look. “Alright, I guess this is it then.”
And just like that, Jaehyun was gone.