Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dongmin was no stranger to love, not with Lee Sanghyeok in his life.

Yet he greeted the pain that came with it like an old friend, silently craving its touch whenever it was gone for too long. For Dongmin, love and hurt were two sides of the same coin—one he couldn't escape.

He was fifteen when the name first left his mouth.

"I'm Dongmin. Nice to meet you, Sanghyeok-ah!"

Suddenly, he was sixteen, breathless as he pulled away from Sanghyeok—feeling euphoric and a little dizzy after having their first kiss.

"That was… surprisingly good?"

And before he knew it, he had reached eighteen, panting heavily as he felt Sanghyeok so deeply inside him that it almost felt inhumane.

At nineteen, Dongmin was living in someplace new, desperate to get away from the ghost of his past. Yet he found himself dumbfounded on the floor of his dorm room, tasting salt in his mouth as his brain brought back unwanted memories—ones he tried so desperately to forget. Because to forget was to heal, and what would be the point of moving away if Sanghyeok was still occupying his mind?

Yet, what happened at seventeen?

"Happy birthday, Dongmin-ah!"

The boy blew out the candles on his cake, gaining cheers from loved ones surrounding him. Right next to him stood Sanghyeok, gently holding the cake he worked all day to build in his hands—smiling in a way that made Dongmin want to squeal like a little kid.

Dongmin—more than anything—wanted to drag Sanghyeok into the nearest room possible and lock them up inside, allowing him to kiss the latter until they had to get physically separated. He wanted to see every inch of Sanghyeok's body, taking his time to admire every scar, every crevice of the boy he loved more than anyone else.

But he couldn't. Not only were they celebrating his birthday in a crowded hotel room, but it would also ruin everything. Exes don't kiss, now do they?

Dongmin couldn't imagine a life without Sanghyeok, which is a funny thought to have, seeing as they've only known each other for a year. It all started on the first day of high school, when Dongmin and his new friends were hanging around in the music room. He had spotted the other boy quite quickly, as Sanghyeok made his presence known through the use of a beat-up classical guitar alongside the sound of his voice.

It was like Sanghyeok was a siren, one that had lured poor Dongmin in the moment a note escaped his lips. He was entranced, unable to take his eyes off the former. Dongmin—in his dazed state—quickly whispered to Woonhak,

"Who's the cute guy playing guitar?"

This brought out some confusion, as another guy was playing, a boy with slightly overgrown brown hair who goes by Sungho. Just as the air cleared up, Woonhak mentioned a little detail about the boy that would end up with Dongmin on his knees.

"Sanghyeok's my ex."

Guilt washed over him as he let fear overtake his thoughts, afraid to lose a new friend so quickly in his high school life. Yet Woonhak reassured him, saying that it was a long time ago and that Dongmin was free to pursue him if he wanted.

Who said anything about pursuing?

He was freshly sixteen, cramped in the corner of an empty classroom as Sanghyeok sat next to him, mindlessly talking about the book he was reading. Dongmin would love to pay attention and give meaningful responses, yet his brain was preoccupied with… other things.

Ohmygodholyshithesmellssogoodandhessoclosetomewhatthefuckdoido-

"… Dongminnie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not paying attention!"

Dongmin giggled, finding the other boy's little outburst adorable. Sanghyeok's voice was like honey to his ears, and his smile was so endearing that Dongmin couldn't help but smile whenever he did.

"Yes, I was!"

Sanghyeok lightly pushed Dongmin to the side, intending to tease. Yet it got the latter all flustered, because now they were closer in distance than ever. Dongmin held himself up with his left hand, turning to face Sanghyeok. They were inches apart at this point, being able to feel each other's breath on them. Sanghyeok adjusted himself so that they would be eye-to-eye, which proved to be useless as his eyes wouldn't leave Dongmin's lips.

One…

Two…

Thr-

"…Holy shit! What are you two doing in here?"

Dongmin would have to seek Donghyun out another day and either strangle him to death or treat him to a nice lunch for the way he just interrupted them.

…

One month until Dongmin's seventeenth, and he was currently in Sanghyeok's embrace—both equally tired after two back-to-back exams today. Sanghyeok's left hand gently caressed Dongmin's hair, his right hand intertwined with the latter's hand, both unwilling to let go.

It had been a long week for the couple, as exams spare no one. Yet Dongmin thought it was all worth it, being able to feel so safe and at home in the arms of the boy he loved most. Dongmin had struggled with the concept of love all his life, unable to differentiate between platonic and romantic. But with Sanghyeok, it was like the fog in his mind had cleared up the moment he learnt of the boy's name.

He loved Sanghyeok.

If anyone asked why, he probably wouldn't answer. He wanted to be selfish when it came to the boy, guarding the true nature of their relationship and his feelings in a locked box that only the two of them know the password to. Away from the rest of the world, Dongmin wanted to stay in Sanghyeok's arms for as long as possible—because there's no place like home, am I right?

Dongmin wasn't perfect; he knew that. He had struggled quite a lot in his life, leading him to become someone often called "cold" and "unfriendly." Yet behind it all was a wounded child, one who had managed to make it into high school without properly growing up. Dongmin rarely showed this side to anyone, fearing that the ugly would scare people away. Enter Sanghyeok, someone who passed through every wall built, his comforting presence allowing him easy access to Dongmin's true self.

Surprisingly, Dongmin didn't mind. Maybe he was a little crazy to let someone in so easily—especially after years of pain caused by 'loved ones'—but that was simply the effect Sanghyeok had.

Wonderful, easy-to-love, effortlessly kind Sanghyeok. Dongmin had fallen, and he had fallen deep. He was practically hanging on by a thread, one that Sanghyeok had every control over. Constantly depending on the boy under the guise of love, unable to see the negative consequences it brought to their relationship. As Sanghyeok was equally blind, letting his feelings for Dongmin walk all over his self-respect.

Sooner or later, they had grown a sense of codependency on each other, seemingly only able to breathe when they're together, while simultaneously suffocating each other. It was a strange first relationship, Dongmin thought. Not knowing any better, he stayed believing that Sanghyeok was all he needed in this cruel world.

Relying on Sanghyeok under the guise of love was easy for him, as the boy happily indulged—equally as blind. To Dongmin, loving someone so much felt thrilling. But thrill was a double-edged sword, one that Dongmin had yet to discover.

…

"We can't keep doing this, Dongminnie."

"Doing what?"

"You know what I'm talking about. This. Us. You can't treat me like some therapist who magically appeared in your life to make you better! I'm your boyfriend, for fucks sake."

Call Dongmin a fool, but he had anticipated this quite some time ago. He knew that sooner or later, Sanghyeok would grow sick of the bitter reality that was Han Dongmin. His thoughts would be too loud, his actions not enough. At the end of the day, it was Dongmin who was at fault. Just as it had always been. Whether it be in the school halls that Dongmin would soon come to hate at thirteen or his first real relationship three years later, it was always him.

Having predicted this sort of outcome, Dongmin was able to shut Sanghyeok out as quickly as he let him in. Suddenly, Dongmin was all alone again.

"Okay then, let's break up."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

So Sanghyeok walked away, leaving Dongmin to process the events of the last ten minutes.

…

Hey, I know it got kind of heated, but I do believe we should take a break. Explore ourselves outside each other again. Maybe someday we'll both grow enough to be together again, yet better than what we had before. Don't wait on me, as I won't do the same. If it's meant to be, it'll happen.

-Sanghyeok

What was Dongmin supposed to do now?

Dongmin was no longer counting down the days until he turned seventeen. He was quite enthusiastic about it at the start, especially with Sanghyeok by his side. But after losing his best-friend-slash-lover, he felt lost. Almost as if he forgot what it felt like to live without the other boy.

It wasn't like they stopped talking. Being friends before you start dating each other had its benefits, but they were currently reaping the negative consequences that came with it. The group hung out almost every day, yet the distance between Dongmin and Sanghyeok hung in the air so heavily that the others carried the brunt of it all.

Until one day at Sanghyeok's house, he had made a lighthearted joke to Dongmin—the way they used to—and the latter responded so naturally that it felt like nothing had even happened between them. The other four boys mentally sighed in relief, as the group was now as normal as it could be. What they didn't know was that Dongmin ended up being the last one to go home, having spent a couple of extra hours of 'quality time' with Sanghyeok.

What they did while they were supposedly 'broken up' stayed between them and the four walls of Sanghyeok's room, both never muttering out a single word of that day.

So when Sanghyeok showed up to Dongmin's birthday celebration not even a week later, a homemade chocolate cake—his favorite flavor—in hand, Dongmin knew he had no one to blame but himself.

Which is why amid a crowded hotel room, the two had managed to sneak out to the pool downstairs, walking hand-in-hand as they made their way to the nearby bench.

They didn't say much, choosing to let the silence take over as they leaned against each other—hands seemingly stuck together with glue.

"Hey, where'd birthday boy go?"

Damn you, Kim Donghyun.

Sometime between Dongmin and Sanghyeok's birthdays, they had gotten back together. Neither was sure when it happened exactly, as they denied 'getting back together' allegations from their nosy friends tooth and nail.

By Sanghyeok's birthday, Dongmin was the first one to greet him, gift bag in one hand and cake in the other, as he walked in with the former's parents, slowly waking the boy up at midnight on the dot.

"Happy birthday, Sanghyeok-ah."

It seemed that in the two-month gap of their relationship, Dongmin had truly worked on himself. He convinced himself he was better, which showed as he no longer relied on Sanghyeok as much as he used to. He was a little calmer, his walls gradually lowering for people who weren't his boyfriend. He smiled more, having learnt to control such overwhelming thoughts.

But Sanghyeok?

He had always been more carefully guarded than the other, a fact that both boys were unaware of. Despite being someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, Sanghyeok was more closed off than he believed himself to be. Ever since he had known Dongmin, he had always felt the same sense of safety that the latter got whenever they spent time together. Sanghyeok loved Dongmin so much that he didn't know what to do, subconsciously closing himself off in the process.

Dongmin trusted Sanghyeok with his all, and did everything he could for the feeling to be mutual. Yet no matter how much Sanghyeok gave, it never seemed to be enough. Sanghyeok never relied on Dongmin, always choosing to hide away and solve his problems on his own. Despite Dongmin's countless reminders that it was okay to open up and to trust him, the message never quite got drilled into Sanghyeok's brain.

To Dongmin, Sanghyeok was the person he could trust the most in the world. Sanghyeok was his boyfriend, but also his best friend. Sanghyeok was someone who felt like home, always welcoming him with open arms.

To Sanghyeok, Dongmin was like the evening breeze. With him, Sanghyeok felt all his worries go away in the calm gusts of wind. Dongmin was the only person that Sanghyeok could be one hundred percent comfortable around, without worrying too much about the rest of the world.

Yet Sanghyeok's worries were still there, returning the moment Dongmin's presence was no longer around. It lingered like glitter, always reminding you of its presence when you least expect it. Sanghyeok didn't know what to do with them, yet he never allowed Dongmin access the way the latter did.

Maybe if Sanghyeok had allowed Dongmin to see more of him, they wouldn't have drifted apart.

Or maybe not. Who knows?

"It's not working."

"Seriously? After everything we've been through?"

Dongmin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Talk about bad timing!

Less than an hour ago, Dongmin was sobbing in Sanghyeok's arms—growing tired of the constant obstacles that life threw at him. Sanghyeok gently peppered the boy's head with kisses, words of reassurance escaping his mouth in an attempt to comfort.

But somehow they managed to end up here, talking about breaking up once again.

This time, Dongmin felt a weird sensation in his gut. Did he expect this to happen—again—sooner or later? Of course! Did he expect it to happen so… soon? Obviously not.

Dongmin cursed internally, as he thought he was able to milk out at least another six months from the relationship. He had noticed the shift quite some time ago, as growing content with each other may not always be something to celebrate.

Sanghyeok felt more distant, emotionally. He stopped fulfilling Dongmin's needs and wants in a relationship, despite the latter's never-ending effort to give all he could. It wasn't that Sanghyeok stopped loving Dongmin; he just wasn't loving him the way he wanted to.

In a relationship, there will always be give and take. An ideal one would mean that the two are equally balanced, both sides having their needs and wants fulfilled. However, a realistic one would mean there is always one who gives too much and one too little. This causes an imbalance, potentially causing dissatisfaction from either side of the relationship.

Dongmin and Sanghyeok used to have a more ideal relationship, both content with each other. But as people grow, their needs and wants fluctuate to what they believe they deserve, and what they allow themselves to want. This is what happened to Dongmin, as he soon realized that Sanghyeok was only barely meeting his standards for a boyfriend.

This didn't mean he was a bad boyfriend, just not the one for him. This revelation made by Dongmin quite early into their relationship (part two) was something he refused to acknowledge, settling for whatever Sanghyeok could give instead. Because who is he to ask for more than what Sanghyeok was capable of giving?

So Dongmin endured it all, because he loved Sanghyeok—regardless of what he was missing in Dongmin's eyes. He stayed because he wanted to be with Sanghyeok more than anything. Did he need to? Most likely, no. They were growing more incompatible by the day, something that both sides had realized sooner or later but refused to acknowledge.

In a not-so-ideal relationship, there are cases where they would prioritize their wants more than anything, ultimately neglecting their needs in a relationship. Being in a relationship is to be content and fulfilled with the addition of a special someone in your life. It is not, however, to complete someone else. In order to work properly, anyone in a relationship must have an identity outside of the relationship—something Sanghyeok and Dongmin struggled with at first.

But as they gave their love a second chance, it proved that people were able to change.

Yet that change was more prominent in Dongmin than in Sanghyeok.

Dongmin had become such a different person to the point where his brain no longer recognizes Sanghyeok as someone who can fulfill his life, but his heart screamed at him to stay, because who else is supposed to love him if not Sanghyeok?

Which is why he overstayed his welcome in Sanghyeok's life, refusing to let go of something so special.

What about Sanghyeok?

He doesn't know when it started, but his brain, on the other hand, had decided that he no longer wanted Dongmin's presence in his life. He loved Dongmin more than anything, but no longer craved his touch the way sixteen-year-old Sanghyeok did. He still needed Dongmin in his life, but decided that he wasn't worthy of what he believed to be the once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.

So he let Dongmin go, believing that the boy was destined for far greater things—things that didn't include Sanghyeok in his life.

…

Everyone knows that too much candy is unhealthy, especially for little kids. Getting a taste of it the first time can be addictive, causing them to ask for more and more. Soon enough, cavities will form, causing them to flinch each time they take a bite. Yet kids are always so stubborn, refusing to stop because the candy was simply that tasty.

They may grow out of the candy addiction as they get older, but the feeling of being addicted to something that only exists to cause pain seems to never stop.

Dongmin was seventeen when he discovered a new addiction, with it being none other than Sanghyeok's love. No matter how many times he left, no matter the amount of unsaid promises being broken and action not being taken, Dongmin will always love Sanghyeok. It doesn't matter if Sanghyeok stops, because Dongmin had already gone all in. He showed Sanghyeok every part of himself—emotionally and physically—in ways no one had ever seen him do.

Dongmin knows that to love Sanghyeok means to hurt himself. Yet he persisted, because to stop loving Sanghyeok would be to hurt himself beyond repair, something Dongmin wasn't ready to do just yet.

…

"Goodbye, Dongmin."

Two years later, and Dongmin sat on the cold, hard floor of his dorm room—a notebook open in his hand. It was his old journal, one that he had mistakenly brought along when he moved across the globe. He had meant to bring the newer one, and fell to the floor in surprise as he was greeted with photographs of him and Sanghyeok the moment he opened the book up.

So here he was, freshly nineteen as he skimmed through the diary entries and little letters and notes that he had stuck onto the journal, all reminding him of a love that he hadn't quite gotten over.

…

What he hadn't expected, however, was to bump into the object of his recurring dreams in line for lunch at the local food court, in a country that only Dongmin's family knew he was studying in.

"Dongminnie?"