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Baekhyun is going to kill Jongdae.
Housewarming parties should be simple affairs: a few drinks, getting overly competitive over board games, rehashing the same old jokes and punchlines like they haven’t been told for decades. But Baekhyun had failed to factor in that Jongdae is just the nicest fucking person on earth, so of course he’d have invited Baekhyun’s ex here.
Just his luck, too. Kyungsoo comes in late with a beautiful woman’s arm looped through his, looking abashed that the attention is suddenly all on him. Baekhyun can tell their friends aren’t expecting him, either, craning their necks in poorly concealed shock from the couch. Their gazes flit from Kyungsoo to Baekhyun and back again. He tries not to look fazed, but he’s not stupid enough to believe he’s fooling anyone. No guesses as to what they’ll be gossiping about on the way home.
Jongdae greets the couple without missing a beat, taking their housewarming gifts and leading them to the kitchen. Baekhyun doesn’t bother trying to hide his interest, now, swirling the wine at the bottom of his glass for lack of anything to do with his hands. Beside him, Minseok hyung squeezes his shoulder wordlessly. Small mercies.
Their friends act like nothing’s wrong when Jongdae comes back with the two of them in tow, Kyungsoo’s eyes flickering briefly towards Baekhyun as he introduces his girlfriend, perfectly nice and polite. They find their seats as far from Baekhyun as possible. The space has already been cleared.
He catches Jongdae’s gaze across the room. Baekhyun scowls meaningfully at him, to which Jongdae only provides an apologetic shrug and a grimace. I didn’t think he’d turn up, he mouths, and Baekhyun groans under his breath, turning away from Jongdae’s guilt.
It’s not Jongdae he’s mad at. He’s not even angry, really—more embarrassed than anything else. Everyone here has seen the good, the bad, and the ugly; had followed along for all five years of Baekhyun and Kyungsoo’s doomed love story. All convinced that this was it, the little circle of friends that would grow old together.
But within that broken circle, only the two of them had drifted apart, and here Kyungsoo is with someone new while Baekhyun turned up alone. If there were winners and losers in this game, Baekhyun had completely and thoroughly lost.
He waits until the conversation has picked up enough that he can slip almost unnoticed into the patio, Jongdae’s pitying gaze burning into the back of his neck. The cool air helps; the leftover alcohol in his system doesn’t. Baekhyun takes a deep, shaky breath, leaning over the railing that overlooks the backyard.
Jongdae is right to pity him. It’s been a year, and only Kyungsoo has moved on with his life. Only Baekhyun has stayed in the same place. Hadn’t even tried to move, really, like life itself had ground to a halt the moment Kyungsoo left.
It has, in a way. He didn’t just lose Kyungsoo—he lost a lover, a friend, a home, a future. Plans upon plans uprooted. House, children, relocation, retirement. Their whole lives mapped before them, up until their ashes sat next to each other in the family columbarium. It feels far too late to start over again.
Evidently, Kyungsoo doesn’t feel the same. He should’ve known. Their differences couldn’t overcome their similarities, after all.
“Baekhyun-ah.”
It takes every muscle in his body not to turn towards the sound. The nickname is too familiar, the way Kyungsoo says it too meaningful. He tries to muster up anger, but it’s already burnt through him; all that’s left is defeat.
Baekhyun bites the inside of his cheek, eyes trained resolutely on the empty backyard. “Kyungsoo. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Would you have come if you knew I’d be here?” Kyungsoo’s voice is soft, tentative.
“I still would’ve, but at least I’d be prepared,” Baekhyun admits begrudgingly. Heat rises to the back of his neck as he recalls the furtive looks, the way everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. “You just had to bring her, huh?”
“Should I have just left her home?” Kyungsoo challenges. “I wanted to introduce her to our friends.”
“Our friends, Kyungsoo, who know everything about us,” Baekhyun answers, voice barely contained. “You knew I’d be here. Did you even think about how humiliating it would be for me?”
From the corner of his eye, Baekhyun watches Kyungsoo lean on the railing next to him. “It was going to happen eventually. Like you said, we have the same friends,” Kyungsoo explains, far too rationally for Baekhyun’s liking. “We can’t avoid each other forever.”
Baekhyun scoffs. “I can certainly try.”
Kyungsoo actually laughs at that, like he finds Baekhyun’s distress amusing. His skin prickles at the sound, at Kyungsoo’s proximity, at all the things that are now unfamiliar to him. Something Kyungsoo realizes a beat too late, his laugh fading when Baekhyun stays silent.
“You’re serious,” Kyungsoo says in disbelief.
“You’re surprised.”
Kyungsoo sighs. “I guess… I hadn’t realized you were avoiding me.”
Finally. Irritation, resentment—this is familiar to him. Easier. Baekhyun turns towards Kyungsoo with derision in the curl of his lip, but he can’t quite meet his eyes yet, gaze settling somewhere below his collar. “What reason would we have to see each other?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” Kyungsoo counters indignantly. “I just want to know if—”
“If I’m doing well?” Baekhyun finishes, the venom in his voice grating even to his own ears. But he’s not remotely interested in being nice. Neither of them deserve it. “It’s not my responsibility to make you feel better about your decisions.”
Kyungsoo purses his lips, hands curling into fists by his thighs. “You’re still mad.”
“What am I supposed to feel, then?” Baekhyun huffs. “When I wasted all that time?”
“Is that what you thought I was?” Kyungsoo asks coldly. “A waste of your time?”
“No,” Baekhyun admits. “But all those years… all for nothing.”
“Look me in the eyes when you say it, then I’ll believe you.”
He can’t, because Kyungsoo will know. Not the truth of his words, but the depth of his feelings; if he looks into Kyungsoo’s eyes again, it will undo him, because he won’t find what he wants. Already in those last few months together Kyungsoo looked at him differently, dispassionately—what more after a year?
Baekhyun turns away from him, breathing deeply. His own cowardice stings, but how is he supposed to face Kyungsoo like this?
“The last five years weren’t for nothing,” Kyungsoo continues, almost gently. “I don’t regret them at all.”
“Good for you, then,” Baekhyun says hollowly. Easy for Kyungsoo to say—he’s already moved on, learned his lesson. Baekhyun still doesn’t know what the point of it all was. “I still think it would be easier if we were just strangers.”
“Would it?”
Baekhyun sighs, defeated. “Having to run into you like this, it’s so much worse.”
“But I don’t want to be strangers,” Kyungsoo protests.
Baekhyun knows that it’s possible, but he’s not the kind of person for it. He’s selfish like that. He’d keep hoping for nothing.
“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Look at me.”
A hand settles on Baekhyun’s shoulder, and he flinches, brushing it off and whirling on Kyungsoo in shock. Even through the tears in his eyes he can see Kyungsoo step away from him, surprised, like Baekhyun caught him off guard. Like he was fully expecting Baekhyun to let him touch him.
“I don’t understand what you want from me,” Baekhyun says tremulously. “We’re over, Kyungsoo. You made that very clear.”
“Baekhyun—”
“Do me a favor, Kyungsoo. Act as if I never existed,” Baekhyun pleads, taking a deep breath. “Forget about me, and I’ll forget about you. If you happen to pass me by, just ignore me as if I wasn’t there.”
“No,” Kyungsoo answers, frowning.
“Please.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You promised me. That I wouldn’t get hurt anymore.”
“What about me?” Kyungsoo asks accusingly. “Do you want to hurt me, then?”
“Do you think we can be friends? Do you really believe that?” Baekhyun counters.
“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo admits feebly. “But I don’t want to just… erase you from my life completely.”
Baekhyun shakes his head, wiping the wetness from his eyes. Kyungsoo’s hand twitches by his side, but it stays there, remembering how he was rebuked.
“Those last few months, I… all I ever seemed to do was make you cry. But didn’t I make you happy, once?” The tinge of desperation in Kyungsoo’s voice is unheard of. It was always Baekhyun reaching out, begging for scraps. “You can’t force me to let go of those memories. I want to remember you like that.”
But Baekhyun doesn’t want to be remembered. He wants to be experienced, the entirety of him, from start to finish. Again—too fucking late. Where was this Kyungsoo when they were breaking up? When Baekhyun needed him most? When Baekhyun still wanted him?
He’s just… tired. Tired of how his friends try to set him up with other people, how they drag him into the weekend with the hopes of getting him to smile again. Tired of himself, for letting a breakup define him for a year.
“I’m not asking you to let go of your memories. I’m asking you to let go of me now.” There’s little satisfaction in watching Kyungsoo’s face fall, but Baekhyun takes what he can. “Know when to give up, Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo shakes his head. “On you, of all people.”
Baekhyun can only laugh. There's just no winning, is there? Avoiding Kyungsoo means there's something to be avoided. Letting Kyungsoo back in means there’s something to be salvaged.
“You’re right,” Baekhyun agrees mildly. “I can’t force you to do anything, just like I couldn’t force you to stay. You always get your way—even when we’re no longer together.”
Kyungsoo has nothing to say for once.
Sighing, Baekhyun turns his gaze back towards the empty garden. “You should get back. If I were her, I wouldn’t want you out here alone with me.”
“What about you, then?” Kyungsoo steps away from the railing. “Not going back?”
Baekhyun shakes his head. “Jongdae won’t mind. I’m staying behind to help clean up, anyway.”
“You’re a good friend,” Kyungsoo says softly.
Baekhyun cracks a smile. “Yeah, well. I didn’t date Jongdae.”
“Lucky him,” Kyungsoo chuckles. At least he still finds Baekhyun funny, even if he feels like the butt of the joke. “I wish you’d see things differently.”
Kyungsoo’s voice is so low, Baekhyun almost doesn’t catch it; knowing the trap for what it is, Baekhyun still looks up into Kyungsoo’s eyes, a bit braver if not more foolish than before. “You always said I drove you crazy.”
“Still do,” Kyungsoo answers with a strained smile of his own. It wanes as quickly as it spreads, though the melancholy in his eyes still remains. “I’m sorry, Baekhyun-ie.”
Kyungsoo says he’s sorry like he’s saying goodbye. It’s what Baekhyun wanted all this time, he tells himself. The finality of it, even though Kyungsoo has already said goodbye before; even though Baekhyun now knows they’ll find their way back to one another again somehow, as different people, in different circumstances. The world is only so large.
Maybe this was the lesson all along—the futility of delaying the inevitable. Avoiding Kyungsoo had cost him that. Maybe the next time they meet, there’ll be something else to gain, some higher understanding that wasn’t afforded to him in those five long years.
“I’m sorry, too,” Baekhyun says quietly. He wonders what Kyungsoo hears.