GENRE: angst

MAIN: kim hongjoong/park seonghwa | kang yeosang/park seonghwa

WARNINGS: uhhh nothing much just. post-breakup angst 

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

NOTE: this was a songfic of sorts, inspired by hongjoong's cover of so long time (his by. hongjoong #4 !!) his voice and the cover itself hurt me too much so Lo And Behold here we have this fic HAHAHAH

ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ

( i finally went out after a long time )

The evening was cold, droplets of rain hanging in the air as though stuck in a debate whether to fall upon the city or stay scattered within the atmosphere, a film of humidity that added to the drowsy, slow-moving rhythm of the streets. The sky looked barren, heavy — stirring with dark clouds that shielded the orange sunlight that often washed over the streets at this time.

It's been a while since Hongjoong last went out, and he wished he had planned to do so with regards to the shitty weather. He didn't really mind, though — the rain (or the rain that was tiptoeing the edge of falling) would help clear his mind a bit. The constant bustling atmosphere of his office and other unwanted thoughts that often invaded his head had made him feel tired, and the crisp chilliness of the current weather brought with it a way of completely rinsing Hongjoong's mind he couldn't have found anywhere else. The wind was strong, blowing back his black locks of hair and stinging his eyes, drawing tears that Hongjoong didn't really have a reason to not let loose.

Everything looked the same as it had three years back. The street, still not properly paved after upturning it to fix some issue with the sewer — the shops he'd visited over and over, restaurants he'd eaten from so often he's sure the owners have his order memorized. It hurt to look at, these all being things he'd shared with . . . him.

Seonghwa.

It made his eyes burn, the back of his head throb with something that didn't feel much like a migraine. It made him regret going out, coming onto this street — he wished he could go back home and burrow under his duvet and never get out ever again.

Everything hurt. So, so bad.

( the familiar street, the familiar restaurants 
i tried to avoid them to forget you )

In a split second, everything in the sky broke apart — a bolt of lightning broke through the clouds and the weight collapsed, rain falling so heavily that he was drenched in under seconds. He ran into the nearest bar he could find, shaking water droplets out of his hair as the door closed to the heavy rainfall outside.

A part of Hongjoong wanted to let go like that as well. Everything he'd pent up, all the thoughts, feelings, unsaid words — he wished it could pour upon him like the rain and wash away down the drain, never to be heard of again.

"Ah, Hongjoong!"

The familiar voice makes him turn around. It's Minho, the owner of the bar, and seeing him after so long stirred an emotion in Hongjoong that's rather akin to the weather then.

"Hey . . . Minho." Hongjoong smiled, sitting down on a stool. The bar was empty, given the time and weather, and the atmosphere was warm and cosy just like how he remembered it. The air smelt of lemon disinfectant and bittersweet memories that were buried deep inside Hongjoong's soul.

"How are you? It's been — it's been a while." Minho sat down across from Hongjoong, propping himself up on his elbows and leaning forward.

"I've been . . . well," Hongjoong sighed. Minho squinted at him, and Hongjoong feared the next thing he said —

"You're here alone," he noted.

Hongjoong closed his eyes. Shit.

"Yeah," he nodded, an unwanted lump rising in his throat. He felt sick to his stomach.

"We — we ended things. A while back."

"Oh," Minho's hand went to his mouth.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Hongjoong waved a hand. "I — I got over it. It's been years."

It hurts. It really hurts. It's been so long —

It's as though he can see Seonghwa sitting next to him, nose scrunched as he chose on a drink to order — smiling wide when Hongjoong ordered for him instead, the stupid amount of love shots they'd taken and the way they'd instantly reduce into a fit of giggles and red cheeks afterwards — walking home, hand in hand and slightly tipsy, counting stars as they walked down the empty streets.

I got over it, my ass.

"Can I get a beer?" Hongjoong asked suddenly, feeling his head getting too heavy in his hands.

"Of course," Minho raised an eyebrow. "With the weather and you being alone, though, are you sure you want a beer or should I brew some black tea for you?"

"A beer's fine, thanks."

"Hongjoong-ah," Seonghwa put his chopsticks down and pointed out the window, "it's raining."

"Mhm," he hummed in response. "What about it?"

"I don't know, I just felt like pointing it out. The vibes are exquisite." Seonghwa slurped up some more of his ramen and proceeded to flash Hongjoong a toothy grin.

"Hot ramen and rainy weather! And the love of my life here with me too."

"You're such a dork," Hongjoong laughed, feeling his heart turn to mush with endearment for the man in front of him.

"I hope we get a rainbow," Seonghwa droned on, ignoring him. "Let's take a picture if we get one. Please?"

"Yeah, sure!"

They never did see a rainbow, Hongjoong realized. That was the last date they'd gone on. He's sure he has an album full of rainbow pictures he'd taken for Seonghwa just because he'd asked.

"Your beer," Minho set the glass down on the counter with a loud thunk and Hongjoong took it gratefully, emptying the glass before he could even relish in having a drink from the same glass he'd done three years ago.

"I needed that," Hongjoong pushed the glass back across the counter to a bewildered Minho. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it."

( has time stopped? )

"We should get a pet cat."

They're lying under the stars on the terrace of Seonghwa's apartment, sharing his baby blue blanket and keeping their bodies close for warmth.

"Hmm," Hongjoong murmured, smiling. "And I'll name it Mars."

"Okay fine, then we get two cats so I can name the other one Hong." Seonghwa pouted.

"Hey!" Hongjoong laughed, hitting Seonghwa's chest.

"It's only fair that way!" Seonghwa fought back.

They fall into another bout of comfortable silence. Hongjoong finds Seonghwa's hand and links their fingers together, squeezing them gently as though to let him know he was there.

"I want a future with you, Hwa," he whispered, moving closer to Seonghwa than he already was.

"Just us. In an apartment here in Seoul, with those two pet cats if we ever get them. I want to wake up to you next to me . . . every day."

"Ew, you romantic," Seonghwa pushed him away mockingly, only to follow after him and give him a peck on his lips.

"I want that too, Hongjoong." He smiled, and for a moment he shone brighter than the stars above them.

"I love you. So much."

"I love you more, Seonghwa."

( everything has changed. )

He found himself trudging through the rain puddles later that night, the bar and beer he'd drunk laying forgotten as he continued to walk. Everything he did felt like he was picking at a wound that had long since scabbed over, exposing sensitive skin and spots of blood to the stingy air again.

Drawing up to the locked gate of the abandoned warehouse he'd visited so often with Seonghwa, he paused for a second, looking around. The smell of the ground after it rained mingled with the strong metallic scent the rusty locks and chains gave off, all adding together to form a cold, lonely smell he never wanted to smell ever again.

He shouldn't have come. It wasn't like he was expecting anyone to be here, anyway —

"Hey, Yeosang!"

He froze.

An exhilarated gasp of laughter, followed by another scream of joy. Hongjoong scrambled towards the shadows, pressing himself against the wall of the warehouse, his heart thudding.

He could recognize that voice from anywhere.

Seonghwa . . .

. . . And someone else.

"Yeosang," it was Seonghwa's voice, breathless from laughing and running. Hearing it after so long felt like a cold, freezing wave — it sent an unintentional chill down his spine, making him recoil further into the shadows with his arms around himself. It hadn't changed much, still resonating the same soothing tones it had done years ago when he whispered hushed 'I love you's to him.

He missed Seonghwa's voice.

"Why — why this street?"

"We met here," came the reply. If it was possible to hear smiles, those words would've been it.

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the pang in his chest. He wanted to go back home. There had been several mistakes he'd made in coming here, today, at this time.

They'd met here. This street was . . . their place.

"Besides, I couldn't find the right place nor timing to do it, so I'll just do it now."

Hongjoong stepped out of the shadows a little, careful to be silent so they couldn't tell he was present. He saw Seonghwa, his face illuminated against the yellow glow of the street lamp — his hair now no longer blonde and more on the ashy grey side. His eyes shone with love and happiness as he gazed at the man in front of him — a look he'd seen so, so many times, one he'd been on the receiving end of.

"Stop being so secretive," Seonghwa said teasingly. "I'm going to combust with excitement."

Hongjoong felt weak at his knees.

"Okay, okay," the man — Yeosang — laughed.

"Will you, Park Seonghwa, do the great honours of marrying me?"

( i have nothing more to say. )

"Seonghwa, we have to talk."

Hongjoong sighed, thoughts reeling with everything he wanted to mention.

Seonghwa looked at him from where he lay on his lap, a look of confusion shooting across his face as he sat up.

"What's . . . what's wrong —?"

"You've been ignoring me these past few days," Hongjoong said coldly, "I have no idea what you're up to or what you've been hiding, but I don't like it."

"Hongjoong, what —" Seonghwa uttered, puzzled. "If this is about me forgetting about Junghwan's birthday and not going out with you to buy gifts because of that, I'm sorry. I really am. I'll get him something —"

"You've never forgotten his birthday before." Hongjoong cut through. "Nor have you cancelled out on so many dates within the span of weeks."

"Well, I'm sorry, but if you let me explain —"

"Nah," Hongjoong put a hand up. "You have a pretty face. That's enough potential for you to . . . do whatever you did behind my back."

Seonghwa froze, eyes going wide at realizing Hongjoong's accusation.

"What the fuck." He let out a shaky laugh of disbelief, a hand running through his hair as he scooted further down the bench.

"Did you really think I'd stoop that fucking low? When I have you ?"

"If you thought you could get away with it, you were wrong, Seonghwa," Hongjoong shot back, "God knows what you've been up to behind my back all those days."

"Fuck you, Hongjoong." Seonghwa stood up from where he was sitting, tears brimming his eyes. "Nearly two years together and it seems like you still can't trust me."

"Then what the fuck was that behaviour? Turning down my requests to go out? Changing the password to your phone? What the fuck am I supposed to draw —"

"I don't know, Hongjoong, maybe I was trying to be nice and plan something really fucking special for our two year anniversary," Seonghwa yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes set alight with anger and hurt.

Hongjoong fell silent.

"Yeah, fuck you," he sobbed. "Maybe talk to me again when you learn how to trust the love of your life or something."

He walked off, wiping at his eyes as he did so, leaving Hongjoong sitting on the bench suddenly feeling really fucking cold. He could sense people staring at him, the awkward silence too loud in his ears, but something in him broke as he gazed at the disappearing back of Seonghwa's pink sweater.

Seonghwa . . . left.

God, he'd fucked up.

Bad.

Two days later, he opened his front door upon hearing several knocks, only to see two silver rings lying on the doormat — glinting in the sunshine, spelling the marriage that was never meant to be.

( so i pretend to be okay, 
but it's not easy )

All he could think was, that's supposed to be me.

He watched, a lump rising in his throat, as Seonghwa broke down in tears and replied with the most ecstatic 'yes, yes, a thousand times yes' — he watched as the two of them kissed under the yellow glow of the streetlamp, his heart stuttering, vision blurring with tears.

It was in that split second he felt as though his hope of ever gaining Seonghwa back had dissipated, turned into steam and flown way beyond his reach.

When he thought Seonghwa had left, he didn't think he'd lose him like this.

He saw Yeosang put the ring on Seonghwa's finger, and then kiss him again right after, his arms around Seonghwa's neck. Hongjoong felt as though someone had stabbed him in the gut and twisted the knife around — he wanted to cry out loud, but he couldn't, not when he was there, clearly so happy at his boyfriend's proposal. His mind drifted back to the silver rings lying in the dusty, paper-filled confines of his drawer back at home — something he'd kept as one last memory of Seonghwa, of their two years together; something like a sliver of hope for him and Seonghwa to ever get back together again.

All of it — shattered to pieces, right in front of Hongjoong's eyes.

Covering his face with his hands, he stepped out of the shadows and ran past the couple before they could register his presence or identity.

Something in him that had been teetering between cracking and staying whole had completely broken, the pain reaching his heart and stomach and everything because at one time, all of him had belonged to Seonghwa . The loss was soul-consuming, bringing out of him sobs that had been bottled away for God knew how long. Tears streamed down his face as he ran, soles of his shoes slapping against the rain puddles. Somewhere, he could hear thunder rumble again, the weather going from bad to worse while leaving Hongjoong to listen to the heart-wrenching songs the storm played for him.

Everything hurt, because his everything was connected to Seonghwa in one way or the other.

His everything had been Seonghwa.

His heart ached and his mind was blank, no longer singing along to the happy tune of the memories he cherished so dearly, all of it bleak and dreary with the knowledge that Seonghwa had better people to love. All he heard was an echo of who he used to be — what they used to have together.

( if this is what you'd call a fool
i guess i'm one )

Paining and torn apart, Hongjoong walked back down the same path he'd come, recollecting their memories and blowing them away in the stormy wind.