Chapter Text
Safe Space
The chime of the doorbell woke him with a start — the TV was still playing whatever channel he’d fallen asleep to earlier in the evening, momentarily blinding him as he tried to fumble for the remote to turn it off.
“San, you literally have a key,” he groaned and pulled himself up from the couch, not appreciating the rude awakening.
It was close to midnight, too late for a casual visit from anyone else and the only person he was expecting was his partner. Either that or one of their friends was coming to rope him into going out with them. He paused, waiting for a second chime. By Wooyoung’s logic, if whoever it was really needed him to open the door, they’d ring the bell a second time. When it came, he approached the door.
He prepared his rant for whichever son of a bitch he called his friend had decided to drop by without a text beforehand to wake him up from his precious nap on his day off. His hand hovered over the knob for a second, then he swung it open.
Standing there, looking like a ghost of himself, was Minjun.
“Hey,” Wooyoung’s mouth dropped open, caught off guard by the sight of his nephew. His eyes swept over Minjun — clothes wrinkled, hair a mess, face pale and streaked with dried tears. “What are you doing here?”
Minjun’s eyes were puffy and red, his shoulders sagging like he was carrying something too heavy for one person to bear. His lips trembled, and before he could get a word out, tears spilled over, trailing down his cheeks with only a few sharp sobs able to pass his lips.
Wooyoung’s heart shattered at the sight. Without a second thought, he pulled Minjun into a hug, wrapping his arms around the younger and holding him tightly. Minjun collapsed against him, his body shaking with quiet sobs, and Wooyoung could feel the fear and tension radiating off him with each sniffle.
“Come in,” Wooyoung whispered, guiding him gently inside. He shut the door behind them and manoeuvred Minjun to the couch he’d been occupying minutes ago.
Minjun let out a shaky breath as he sat down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. Wooyoung settled beside him, unsure what to say, rubbing slow, comforting circles on his nephew’s back.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, masking his shock at how the fourteen year old had made his way here alone. “You’re safe here.”
For a long while, neither of them spoke. Wooyoung could hear Minjun’s ragged breathing, trying to calm down, but it was clear he was barely holding himself together. Wooyoung didn’t push. Sometimes just sitting in silence was enough.
After a few minutes, Wooyoung quietly slipped away to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. He handed it to Minjun, who took it without looking up, his hands trembling as he brought it to his lips. He drank slowly, as if focusing on the simple act of drinking water took up all the energy he had left within him.
When the glass was nearly empty, Minjun set it down on the coffee table. His fingers drummed nervously against the surface for a few moments before he finally spoke, his voice small, barely above a whisper.
“I... I think I’m bi.”
Wooyoung froze, the words hitting him like a truck from his own past. He had known something was going on — he’d seen Minjun withdraw more and more over the past few months — but Wooyoung couldn’t have guessed this was why. His nephew, the boy he’d seen grow up, was sitting here, breaking down right in front of him just as he’d done to his best friend years ago.
Minjun’s voice cracked as he continued, finally getting more than a whisper out. “I don’t know what to do, Woo. I- I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Hey…” Wooyoung shifted closer, placing a hand on Minjun’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me,” he said softly, smiling genuinely. He’d be a liar to say he didn’t feel beyond honoured to be the one Minjun felt safe enough to reveal this to. “It means a lot to me that you’d come here.”
Minjun’s lips trembled, his eyes filling up with tears once more. “I’m so scared,” he sobbed again. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve been pretending for so long, but I can’t anymore. I thought if I just kept ignoring it, it would go away... but I can’t.”
Wooyoung squeezed his shoulder gently. “I know,” his voice filled with quiet reassurance. “I know it feels like everything’s caving in right now, like you’re entirely alone. But you’re not alone. You have me, and we’re going to figure this out. Together.”
Minjun wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to hold back more tears. The room felt heavy with unspoken fears, the weight of everything he had carried on his own for so long. Wooyoung knew that feeling all too well — he’d lived it.
“I don’t want to be different,” Minjun said, his voice cracking. “I don’t want them to look at me like I’m broken. I don’t want dad to hate me…”
Wooyoung’s chest tightened. He remembered those exact words echoing in his own mind all those years ago, when he was Minjun’s age, grappling with the same fears and unsolved emotions. He had spent so long thinking something was wrong with him, that his family would disown him for not following the status quo.
How desperately lonely it was.
“You’re not broken,” Wooyoung turned to him with a firmer tone this time. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Minjun. Being bi doesn’t make you any less worthy of love or respect.”
Minjun looked away, his shoulders slumping further. How small he looked. His poor, beloved nephew who had only ever been full of joyful smiles. Wooyoung wished he could fight the insecurities for him, but unfortunately these demons were something he’d have to let Minjun fight himself.
Minjun’s voice was even quieter when he spoke again. “What if they don’t accept me?”
The question hung in the air like rotten meat, weighing down the atmosphere further. Wooyoung took a deep breath, knowing Minjun wasn’t asking for sugar-coated reassurances. He needed the truth, even if it wasn’t easy to hear.
“They might not,” Wooyoung admitted softly. “I wish I could promise that they will, but I can’t. Coming out is scary because you don’t know how people will react… but listen to me, Minjun. No matter what happens, do not change who you are for the sake of those who cannot accept your true self. You have people who love you, people who will accept you exactly as you are. That starts with me.”
Minjun glanced at him with a hopeful gaze. Wooyoung returned the eye contact without flinching, holding it steady with a soft smile.
“You don’t have to go through this alone,” Wooyoung continued. “You’ve got me, and I promise, we’ll get through this. The fear doesn’t last forever.”
Tears slipped down Minjun’s face again, but this time, he didn’t try to hide them. Wooyoung stayed quiet, returning to drawing soft circles on the younger’s back, letting the moment stretch between them. He didn’t need to say anything more.
After a while, Wooyoung glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight, and the exhaustion in Minjun was beyond evident despite the younger’s attempts to keep his eyes open.
“You should get some sleep,” Wooyoung suggested gently. “You can stay here as long as you need to. You don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”
Minjun nodded but didn’t move right away. He still looked hesitant, like there was something he wanted to ask but didn’t know how. Wooyoung figured there were a lot of questions to come, the confusion of how you’re supposed to live your life after finally emerging from that suffocating closet would forever remain in his memory. He waited a moment more, sensing the unspoken question lingering on his nephew’s lips.
“Does it ever stop feeling so heavy?” Minjun asked finally, his voice barely a whisper.
Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, wanting to give him an honest answer. He sighed softly, leaning forward. “It gets easier,” he said slowly. “The fear doesn’t go away overnight just because you’ve said it out loud, but it does get lighter over time. Freeing, even. Especially when you have people like you who understand, people you can lean on. It won’t feel this way forever.”
Minjun stared down at his hands, nodding slightly, though Wooyoung could tell he wasn’t fully convinced yet. It wasn’t something you could blindly believe because your uncle told you so. You had to live it.
Wooyoung stood up from the couch and pulled him into another hug, holding him tightly. “I’m glad you came to me,” he whispered. “You’ll always have a place here. Always.”
Minjun nodded against his shoulder, and Wooyoung felt some of the tension melt away from him.
A few minutes later, Minjun disappeared into the guest room, closing the door softly behind him. Wooyoung stood there for a moment, staring at the door, a wave of relief washing over him. Minjun had come to him, trusted him. It was a start.
He padded back into the living room, letting out a long breath. Walking over to the window, Wooyoung looked out at the still occupied streets below. The world outside was still moving, still spinning, just as it always does.
Although the panic and confusion had eased, replaced by a sense of quiet calm, a fear rose in him as he realised there was someone else who needed to know where Minjun was. His father.
Wooyoung sat on the edge of the couch, phone in hand, staring at the screen. The missed calls from his brother, Minjun’s father, glared back at him. He knew this conversation had to happen sooner or later, but he’d been putting it off. The last few hours had been all about making sure Minjun was okay, giving him space to breathe and steady himself.
But now, the time had come.
With a heavy sigh, Wooyoung dialled the number and waited as the phone rang. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind already bracing for the inevitable tension. He hadn’t spoken to his brother in a while.
“Wooyoung,” his brother’s voice came through, sharp and anxious. “Finally! We can’t find Minjun anywhere. Have you spoken with him?”
Wooyoung swallowed, trying to steady himself. “He’s with me. He’s okay.”
There was a pause, and Wooyoung could practically feel the frustration brewing on the other end of the line. “Why didn’t you tell us? He’s been missing for days, and we’ve been worried sick.”
“He only came here a few hours ago,” Wooyoung replied, his voice soft but firm. “He’s going through a lot right now, I don’t think it’s a good time for him to talk.”
“He’s our son, Wooyoung,” his brother snapped, his voice rising. “You don’t get to decide when we talk to him. We’ve been going out of our minds trying to find out where he is.”
“I get that, but Minjun needed space. He came to me because he didn’t feel safe enough to talk to anyone else. I have to respect that.”
There was a long, tense silence before his brother spoke again, his voice quieter but no less angry. “Why didn’t he feel safe? We’ve always tried to do what’s best for him, he knows this.”
Wooyoung sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew this was the hard part, where he had to explain something his brother might not want to hear. What parent wants to hear that their son doesn’t feel safe enough to confide in them?
“Look, I’m not saying you and your wife don’t care about Minjun, but there are things that he’s been dealing with, things he’s scared to talk to you about. That’s why he came to me.”
“What are you talking about?” A defensiveness rose in his tone. Wooyoung had been expecting it.
“Minjun’s been struggling with who he is, his sexuality. I wouldn’t usually think it’s my place to tell you but I would rather you know now than risk pressuring him into it… He’s bi,” Wooyoung said bluntly, not wanting to drag this out any longer for Minjun’s sake.
“He’s been terrified of how you’d react. That’s why he left. He didn’t feel like he could be honest with you.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Silence followed, long and heavy, as Wooyoung’s brother processed the words. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, as if holding back emotions he didn’t know how to handle.
“Bi? As in… bisexual? He’s attracted to both…?”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung confirmed with a nod his brother couldn’t see. “He’s been panicking, it’s been really hard for him. He’s scared, and he didn’t feel like he could turn to you.”
His brother’s voice cracked when he spoke again, a mix of anger and confusion. “Why wouldn’t he come to us? We’ve always been there for him!”
Wooyoung felt a hint of sympathy for his brother. He knew this was hard and knew that, in his own way, Minjun’s father loved him deeply. However, there was a gap, an unspoken barrier between them that had left Minjun feeling like he couldn’t be honest. Wooyoung had always known this but it had never been as obvious as now.
“I’m not saying you didn’t try,” Wooyoung said carefully, hoping his brother would hear him out before demanding his son be returned home. “But Minjun was scared of disappointing you. He’s going through what all kids do when they come out.”
Another silence fell, this one more broken, more fragile. Wooyoung could hear his brother’s breathing on the other end, could feel the struggle he was going through to understand this new reality.
“I never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t come to me,” his brother said quietly, the anger slipping away and leaving only raw vulnerability in its place. Wooyoung had seen it many times over the years when they were growing up. His brother had never been a harsh man, he would never truly be angry at Minjun. “I didn’t know he was dealing with this. If I had known…”
“You wouldn’t have,” Wooyoung interrupted. “You can’t always know what someone’s going through unless they tell you. Minjun wasn’t ready to do that yet. That’s why he came to me. I’m… I’m the only one in the family he knows for sure will understand.”
There was a shift in his brother’s tone, a hint of realisation. “Because you’re… gay.”
“You don’t have to say it like that, you know the theory of it being a mental disease is defunct, despite what those conservative types say,” there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. After all this time his brother still can’t speak the word without pause. “But yeah, he knew I’d get it. I’ve been where he is — scared of how people I love would react. Scared of not being accepted.”
Dongyoung never expressed any dislike towards Wooyoung’s sexuality. If anything, he was one of the most supportive family members after his own parents. Though he never quite understood it in the way Wooyoung never understood what his brother saw in any of the girls he dated. Despite the support his brother had shown him, Wooyoung understands that it will always be different when it’s your own child coming out, for some reason.
His brother let out a long breath, and for the first time, Wooyoung heard the shame beneath the anger. “I never wanted him to feel like he had to hide from us. I didn’t know…”
“I know,” Wooyoung cut in. “But you have to understand, this is something he’s been carrying for a while. He’s still figuring it out, and he’s scared. He’s afraid of losing the people he loves most, just like I was.”
“I wouldn’t… we wouldn’t turn our backs on him,” his brother reiterated, but there was hesitation there, as if he was still trying to convince himself but wanting to believe his own words.
Wooyoung’s tone softened further, trying to bridge the gap. “You just have to realise, Minjun doesn’t know that yet. You’re going to have to show him. And that’s going to take time. When he is ready to let you.”
There was another pause, the weight of the conversation pressing down on them both. Wooyoung knew his brother was grappling with this new reality, and part of him wanted to make it easier for him, but he also knew this wasn’t about making anyone else comfortable — it was about Minjun, about giving him the space and support he needed.
“Can we see him?” his brother asked after a long silence. “I want to talk to him. I want him to know we love him.”
Wooyoung felt a small flicker of hope at those words. “That’s up to Minjun. I’ll talk to him, see when he’s ready, but you need to give him space to come to you when he feels safe. Don’t push him and don’t get mad if he says no.”
“I won’t,” his brother promised, and Wooyoung was certain this time that he meant the words entirely. “I just want him to know that we’re here for him, no matter what.”
Wooyoung sighed, relieved that the conversation hadn’t spiralled into anger or defensiveness like he had feared. “I’ll tell him. But give him time, okay? Things are chaotic for him right now, I’ll do my best to help him”
“I will,” his brother said quietly, the fight drained from his voice. “I just… I just want him to come home and be happy again.”
Wooyoung felt a pain in his chest at those words, knowing the longing behind them. “He’ll come home… but he’s got a home here with me too. He’s safe, I won’t let anything happen to him.”
There was a long pause before his brother spoke again, his voice softer now, almost resigned. “Thank you… for looking out for him.”
Wooyoung nodded, even though his brother couldn’t see it. “Of course. He’s family. We all need to look out for each other. I’ll talk to you later, Dongyoungie”
As they hung up, Wooyoung leaned back against the couch, letting out a long sigh. One of a mixture of relief and a new weight washing over him. The conversation had been tough, but it hadn’t gone as badly as he had feared. His brother might not fully understand everything yet, but at least he was willing to try. And for now, that was enough.