movie's over

At least Kyumin had that hand on his hip. It eased Hanbyul’s actions, made it seem like maybe Kyu would be okay with what he was about to do, maybe return it. God, please let him return it. He’d never sin again if only this one boy would return this one kiss. (That was how important he saw this.)

Byul was started to get worried again at his ex’s unresponsiveness, but he wouldn’t pull away. Wouldn’t dare. Because oh— oh, his lips were finally moving back against his own and it was probably the definition of bliss for the Aussie. Not like the way Kyumin’s body pressed against his didn’t help. Like always, Hanbyul would pull Kyu down to his level instead of going up, his ego too hard to swallow to rise onto his toes or lift his chin up. That didn’t mean anything less about their kiss. 

Abruptly the blissful kiss was broken in quite the rough way, Hanbyul left blinking dumbly as the other’s expression changed. He came around as his Kyutie spoke, lips curling into a crooked grin before they were claimed again. Like he’d protest. 

He protested instead was his bare back against those shiver-inducing cold tiles, his hands moving from where they’d been rubbing his shoulder to framing the other’s face. He couldn’t help but let a small smirk slip as he turned, pinning his ex up instead in an all too familiar way. 

"What was I supposed to do, idiot? It’s not like I could go and drag you back by your collar just because I needed you. But you sure as hell aren’t running away again. I’m not twenty anymore, I know what I want, and I want you." 

a faint hiss escaped his lips when he was pressed against the wall instead. of course, of course, hanbyul always liked the upper hand. maybe kyumin didn't want to make it as easy for him as it usually was. it wasn't fair, after all. plus, he was trying to be angry with him, and how the hell was he supposed to do that when he had him pinned against a wall?

nails raked down hanbyul's bare chest, and kyumin hoped that it stung at least a little. not out of spite, but— yeah, out of spite. out of spite that both their egos were too big. that hanbyul didn't run after him after all those years. that he didn't even pick up the phone to see if his number was the same. he wouldn't listen if someone said he had double standards; he'd say he was gone for a reason. he disappeared from the stretto life to figure out his own, which ended up quite pathetic after he was left alone for long enough.

"do you want a list?" he threw back, words hushed and gone unnoticed by the rest of hanbyul's spiel. oh. oh. well, that was certainly straight forward. hanbyul surely didn't expect him to deny something like that.

and he didn't, because his fingers laced back into the shorter's hair and lips crashed back together in a fury of neediness. he hoped hanbyul had needed this as much a kyumin had. honestly, he wanted it. he wanted to know that hanbyul needed him all this time; he wanted to hear it.

but he also hoped he changed in the best ways. he hoped that he wasn't actually cheating on his girlfriend, that it really was casual, or else he'd be uncertain. how can you agree to be with someone that cheated for you?

then again, no one ever said they were going to be together. he ruined that, after all.

He wondered how he saw him, now. Disliked or liked the more tanned skintone, the couple of tiny scars that were dusted here and there, the tightness of his shoulders. Not from the past ten years, but more the past ten minutes of Kyumin saying nothing. Jesus, boy. Way to make a guy nervous. Why was he so quiet? Now was no time to be quiet. There was a person willing to listen to and commit every word you said to memory, and yet you were silent. Tch. 

Then he saw it, that cute smile just out of the corner of his eye, felt the gentle brush of his fingertips across his back, and his idiotic grin was back. God, how he had missed him. If he had his way, he wouldn’t much longer. Slowly, he turned back around, grin faded to a soft smile. You were so cute. And that ability to hold anything back was crumbling by the second. So he gave in. 

Wearing a sheepish smile, Hanbyul wove his fingers into Kyumin’s hair, untying it and finger-combing it out around his shoulders. It was long. He told him that. “Did you stop cutting your hair when I left? It’s ridiculous.” There was a soft hum as he tucked the less than straight strands behind the boy’s ear, giving him an apologetic shrug as he did. 

(Sorry was definitely not one of the things he was in that moment.)

"you don't like it?" he asked absently, focusing on how his hand moved when hanbyul turned, placing itself on his hip instead. god, it was almost too much that he was shirtless. his skin felt so warm and so real underneath the palm of his hand, his fingers curling against his hipbone and urging him to move closer. he could see where this was going; he wasn't going to stop it.

it was a miracle to him that hanbyul kissed him first. well, not really, maybe. he was always good at initiating things, after all. kyumin, not as much. but that was okay, he knew when he should make his own move.

but that wasn't really on his mind because, oh my god, hanbyul's fingers were in his hair and oh my god, his lips were against his again. half of him wanted to pull away and pinch himself to see if he was dreaming this, but he wouldn't dare wake up now if it was. it was too good of a dream if it was, and he would gladly be stuck in it if he could.

the way his body pressed up against hanbyul's was an instinct of his. even after ten years, his body reacted the same as it always would. one hand on his hip and the other on the side of his face, never wanting him to let go of him now.

but he did. even if just for a minute there, he pushed hanbyul off of him and against the wall closest by, his expression completely changed. he looked huffy again and pissed with hanbyul.

"I can't believe you let me leave like that years ago, you idiot!" and his lips were back on hanbyul's, rougher and needier, like he'd been waiting nine long years for this again.

Not like he wouldn’t have taken his shirt off in front of everyone under different circumstances. His resolutions for five straight years hadn’t been ‘Work out more’ for nothing.  

By the time they were actually inside, tile under their feet and a chill to the air that really made Hanbyul not want to take his leather jacket off, he noticed that the lighting was actually better and he could see his ex better. The forming laugh lines that hadn’t been there before, difference in his haircut and even his slimmer face. 

But there were similarities, too. The cupid’s bow of his lips, the way he held himself, his height that Byul still couldn’t get over. It was ridiculous how much this kid grew when he hit his growth spurt. It relaxed him, though. This was the Kyu that pushed him around and joked with him and allowed him to slip kisses every once in awhile. 

"Be nice, alright? It was a rash decision when I thought tattoos looked manly and I could pull it off." 

he was a little disappointed that hanbyul's hand couldn't have just sneakily slipped into his own as they left for the bathroom. he wanted to do that himself, but he wouldn't be the one to crack here. well, not that he expected either of them to break, but— it was a hope in the back of his mind. swimming around like a blowfish, puffing up and becoming annoying noticeable at some points.

"no judging here," was his reply, hoping his eagerness didn't leak through with his words. his hands were behind his back now— probably to hide the fact that his fingers were curling around each other and knotting nervously. man, was he ever this nervous before? he shouldn't be now. snap out of it, kyumin, this man's got a girlfriend now, after all.

but fuck his girlfriend, honestly. it was casual, after all, right? he was lee kyumin and he was going all out at tis goddamn reunion and no one could stop him unless necessary.

kyumin found his courage again when hanbyul lets the tattoo show, and wow, he missed seeing him like that. that used to be his to look at. it was those thoughts that blowfish'd in his head and caused him to reach out and run his fingers over hanbyul's lower back, slow and curious. admittedly, a tattoo suited hanbyul. he had always wondered when the other would end up inking himself. he was just the reckless type to do it without thought, and that's what made kyumin smile, his hand tracing the lines of the tattoo.

he hadn't said much now; he was silent in all the glory that was jason jang hanbyul. always rendering him speechless, that idiot. his eyes were cast downwards but his smile was obvious. hanbyul missed his shy smile, right? he wouldn't need to, for much longer. all he needed to do was turn around— all kyumin wanted him to do was turn around and have his hand under his chin again and tilt his head up so he can see the smile again and then kiss him like that.

Denying this when Kyumin was right in front of him, so close and accessible so unlike he’d been the past ten years, was becoming much too hard to do any more.  

"Good. Fine, I guess, hardly the best relationship I’ve been in, though."

He rubbed his arm, taking his turn staring at the floor again. God, to say anything, anything besides what he was thinking, that’d be fantastic. Was it hot in here? Yes. It was definitely too hot, too hot and too public for his tastes. (Not like he had a reputation to uphold anymore. Everyone knew the hopeless romantic he was.)

but replying saying 'good' would just be too rude for him to do. so he just pulled a sorry smile, one that wasn't really all that sorry. it was a good thing, he thought again, that this girl isn't here. he would probably feel on top of the world if she were here and hanbyul said that to him. that was something he wouldn't forget.

hanbyul's question made him blink once or twice, but he couldn't help but hold back a snide reply. as usual. "'cause you are a tramp," he snorted, although he is interested. he wondered how much hanbyul's changed, physically. hm. maybe he's more fit, maybe he's gained a little weight.

he'd still be gorgeous either way.

but hey, woah, slow down there, kyumin, your fake boyfriend might get a little jealous.

"Oh." 

He echoed, voice hollowing out more and posture growing better with every passing word. He didn’t want to believe it, he really didn’t, but jealousy did that to you. Made you think irrational things and do things you shouldn’t and say things you shouldn’t and believe things you otherwise wouldn’t have. 

"Oh, yeah, I know. You always did have a thing about being all coupley in public." It wasn’t a direct assertion, really, but it could have been, and was probably perceived as one. Oops. Hanbyul shifted again, looking around nervously for someone else. They all seemed to be preoccupied with something that they had been too distracted to notice. Not a surprise. The next thing out of Hanbyul’s mouth he had little to no control over, as it just kind of… Happened. It came out fast, the only thing that really mattered if Kyumin was honest about this whole non-exclusive absent boyfriend thing. 

well, that was a lie.

he would've laughed lightly when hanbyul pointed out how he hated public affection, but he was too busy watching his reactions. he could tell he believed him. whether he wanted to or not, he couldn't tell, though. whatever. he didn't care. he didn't want to care.

his defenses were lowered a little when he heard the question. his expression softened momentarily. he still cares about that? it was a bit of a surprise to kyumin, to hear him ask that. hanbyul still cared for his well being. it's been ten years, and he does. kyumin wondered if hanbyul ever laid down at night and thought about whether or not he had been in the hospital that year or if he was asleep or what time it was where ever the other was.

kyumin did.

"Ahh. I— Well, I couldn’t bring hi-er. I couldn’t bring her. Plane sick real easy, y’know. Shame, I really wanted to introduce her…" 

He didn’t know why he did it, why he so blatantly lied about his status, maybe it was just to finally have something over Kyu and his history of witty remarks and admittedly funny comments. Maybe it was to make him jealous, but did it really matter any more? No. Yet the asshat did it anyways.

"Even though it’s still pretty casual. Not, y’know, exclusive or anything." Those y’knows would be the death of him. They’d give him away, then he’d look like a bumbling idiot. Which was the thing he probably wanted to do least. He stuck his fingers into his pockets, another familiar habit, as to keep himself from touching him again. A brush across the cheek, tap to the nose, tuck behind his ear, anything. It simply couldn’t happen because he wouldn’t let it happen because if it did happen there’d be no stopping it from going places it didn’t need to be. 

that wasn't disappointment in his voice. that wasn't a bitter look on his face. that wasn't his arms folding over his chest unhappily. he was still a child. still a protective child; he didn't want anyone else to have hanbyul. no.

he was glad that this girl wasn't here, honestly. he probably would have been petty and ignored her and possibly spilled something on her 'by accident' if she kissed hanbyul in public or something. that's gross. kyumin didn't do that. he rarely did when they dated. public things weren't his thing.

"well, i mean, he's not here with me, but he wanted to be. he wasn't a stretto, so he didn't think he should come here," he replied after a few moments of stupid jealousy. he wasn't going to let him have that over him. he wasn't going to be the pathetic single one here. he was gonna fake it 'til he made it, a forced, sickly sweet smile on his face.

Enough of his worrywart self. This was fun. Fun, fun, fun. Kyu had probably been fine. He’d better have been, or he’d have somebody’s head on a platter. 

"I’ve been pretty good. I opened up my own candy shop, back home. Hah, guess you can’t really escape the lifestyle can you?"

God, did his voice really sound as strained as it felt? Probably not. Probably just really foreign. He probably had a really bad accent again. …Accents were still hot, right? He hoped so. As he was rubbing the nape of his neck his gaze left Kyumin’s face, not wanting to stare, and slowly drifted back. He bet he was still a good kisser. Probably better. His husband was lucky. But he probably already knew that.

his own candy shop. that doesn't really surprise him, honestly. he did really well at the candy shop in stretto, it's only likely for him to do the same after leaving. sadly, he couldn't really hold a job for very long, himself. he cringed at the thought of it. jobs weren't his thing.

but he's glad that hanbyul managed something. it was obvious that he was back in australia doing his thing. he could tell from the way his accent slipped into his korean. it was cute, he liked it. 

"anyone you can meet?" he repeated absently. oh, he meant did he have someone? no, of course not, you idiot, i still love you. that's what he wanted to say. he wanted to grumble it like he would always grumble these sort of things at him.

Suddenly things got blurry and it scared her for a second, only to feel tears dance down her cheeks. She sniffles and wipes at her eyes, but they keep coming. She says it again — the “Yah, Lee Kyumin!” — but in a much softer, hushed, and whimpering one of relief, sadness, and happiness all merged into one. 

She takes a step forward and wraps her arms easily around him. “I missed you, you butt.” She sniffles again, pulling back and reaches up to fix his hair like how she usually would. Smiling despite her tears, she gave a happy little squeak and hugged Kyumin once more. 

the hug put him to ease, and wrapping his arms around her was a good feeling. he misses the older sister way that she acted with him. it was something he didn't get when he was younger and man, he missed it.

"i missed you too, noona," he replies with a widening smile. this feels comfortable. he's comfortable. he's not upset or worried, he's happy. shinyeong is here and it's like normal again, because she's fixing his hair and asking a million questions and worrying over him just as he was used to, once upon a time.

his eyes lit up, hearing all the words rush out of your mouth. he's so glad to have you here again. he's glad he can tell someone about everything. "i've been out. i was in hong kong for most of the time. it's different there, it's nice. everything's been alright, yeah." not a complete lie, but he can't manage to think about the bad things right now.

How cute.

"Was that another old joke? I take that as an insult, Kyu, I think I’ve aged well.” He reached forward, chucking the boy gently under the chin. Now isn’t the time to be handsy, maybe his husband is here. 

Oh god. Maybe his husband was here. How stupid would he look, still in love with his ex, but they were off and married. That’s how it’d been, really, Byul was always the more loving one, had vied for the elusive boy for over a month before actually snagging him, but oddly he still didn’t care. He’d kind of liked it. Yeah, he’d dated since his time as a candymaker, but none of it was really the same. No one insulted him or saved their affections until they were out of the public eye, and that never settled well with him. What did a guy have to do to get insulted every once in awhile? 

Hanbyul shifted, head tossing habitually in the way he’d never really stopped doing as he flicked at his dark locks. 

there was still a part of him saying get the fuck out of there, he's probably taken now. that thought would break him if he lingered on it. and there was no way he was going to linger on it, because he came here to see everyone again and he wasn't going to have a fucking breakdown right there in front of his ex.

he probably hadn't dated as much as hanbyul had; no one really liked putting up with his attitude. not like hanbyul did, at least. he missed it. missed it a lot.

and he was a little sad that the hand didn't stay on his chin for very long. he could easily see it turning into a kiss like back in the day, when the only time hanbyul put his fingers under kyumin's chin was to coax him in for his lips.

wow, he needed to stop remembering these things.

"i've been--"

lonely. quiet. detached. missing you. tired.

What else could you do when you were meeting the people who’d been the only thing on your mind for ten years?

The one person he didn’t see was his ex. Almost thankfully. It was a truly nerve-wracking thing, knowing a single evening could take so many twists or go completely smoothly. (Which would he had preferred? Good question.) That was, until he saw the boy right in front of him. His round face and flop of a fringe that made Hanbyul subconsciously reach up to fix his. 

He’d reached to say something, anything to fill the space and get Kyumin’s damn head up. Was it really such a crime to want to see his eyes again and make sure they were still as he remember them? 

They were. And his smile was just as perfect as he’d always known it to be, unfortunately. 

but he can't, because he already is thinking hard. he wanted this to go well, god does he ever. he doesn't want hanbyul to remember him as the bitter ex that never got over him. because he hadn't. he hadn't in ten years and probably wouldn't in another ten.

"because it's been, like, fifty decades?" was the only reply he could think of. yeah, go you, kyumin, you're still sarcastic and mean to him after all this time.

he shouldn't be; hanbyul deserves everything from him. he deserves all the smiles and sweet words he can manage to say. but instead, they're all lashes and mumbled half hearted insults. of course, none of them were meant seriously. 

after all, hanbyul wasn't actually smelly. he smelled amazing. kyumin wondered if he still did. that was not something to think about right now, fuck, kyumin--

from a lot of people.

he chuckles and holds sehun to make sure it's not just 'a quick hug', because god knows he doesn't just want to hug him fast and have it be over with. "see, i knew you missed me," he coos, finally letting the other go. 

So after gathering her daughter back from outside, Shinyeong let the six-year-old Yoonmi run ahead as she spotted her father from the door. “Appa!” rang through Fleurs, blending perfectly with the other calls the rest of the children were making to their parents. Shinyeong smiled as Sehun looked up to see her, before gesturing to the person he had been talking to all this time. Spotting Jiwook over on the other side playing with the other children, she was at ease to finally talk.

Making sure she looked presentable, Sehun moved away just before she came to him. Giving him a confused look, he simply smiled and winked, mouthing ‘Talk to him.’ before leading their daughter off to play with Jiwook and the other kids. 

Shinyeong pouted a little, but continued to walk forward to the other. Something didn’t feel right — but at the same time it did. Quietly clearing her throat, she raised her hand and tapped the other’s shoulder.

"Hello, it’s nice to see you again — bab…y… bro…ther…”

Blink, blink, blink. Pause. Blink, blink, blink. Pause.

Somewhere in the distance, Sehun counted down from three… two… one—

he didn't get the chance to ask who shared parenthood with him, but he would soon find out with a tap on his shoulder. the words made him squint and he took a few moments to turn around and meet the face.

his mouth opened in an 'o', staring at shinyeong. oh my god. it had been so long. he didn't even know how to form words to greet his noona, mouth opening and closing like a beached fish.

the yell made him wince, looking around quickly to see if anyone else had heard it. probably, but no one really cared. lots of people were yelling, but after all, this was the stretto gang, of course people would be yelling.

maybe, just maybe his best friend decided to show up. kyumin, who hadn’t bothered to say a word after 10 whole years. was he still with hanbyul? probably not? was he totally changed or was he the same person from before?

somehow, he finds someone that looks like him. and that probably pisses him off more when he realizes that it’s kyumin who really hasn’t looked like he’s changed at all. walking up, he sees that he finally caught up to him in terms of height, feeling a bit of pride at that.

and despite being called an asshole, he turns around with a wide grin on his face. just as he thought, his best friend, mr oh sehun, was standing right there. he had definitely grown a bit. basically the same height now, which was amazing.

"Sure," he says, because he’s used to it—and because the wonder in her eyes far bettered the pity he garnered from others. Children are so easy to please, he thinks idly as the girl clambers onto his lap. He amuses her a bit by giving it a few spins; although his legs don’t quite work like they used to, he isn’t completely invalid. It’s easy enough to push himself around the room a bit, and soon enough the rest of the children crowd him, following along like a choo-choo train. Taemin is thirty years old and the ringleader of a group of children. 

The quiet ‘hey’ hadn’t gone past him, though. 

He glances up, the kid still in his lap, and blinks several times. 

Was that Kyumin? Ten years certainly changed a man, but he could recognize Kyumin when he saw him. A smile tugs at Taemin’s lips before he can stop it. 

he might have a little hunch now, his height not really helping him. but he was still recognizable. that was a plus.

the question pulls a quick, uncertain laugh from his lips. it sounds a little choked, really. the whole reunion made him feel a little choked. but it's better to go along with it rather than pull out some bad memory that taemin might have with the injury-- yeah?

"your couch is the only couch for me, y'know," he finally manages to answer, eyes lighting up a little with his smile. the second part made his smile falter the slightest, but he wouldn't comment on it.

it just seemed.. so sad? not pathetically sad, but just.. sad. taemin was the same age as kyumin and they both seemed to be two of the few who were single and without kids at this party. but obviously kyumin had it better. it was sad just comparing it, really.