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Hongjoong takes a deep breath as he stares at the building across the street, trying to will his feet to leave their seemingly permanent spot on the sidewalk. It would be so easy to call another Uber to take him back to the train station, to get back on the train and make the six hour trip back to his little apartment in Anyang-si, to go back to his life far away from his hometown and pretend this whole thing never happened.
Yeah. Easy. So easy.
Of course, if he does that, then he knows he’s going to have to survive seven rounds of disappointment in the form of a group chat that’s typically only active about fourteen days out of the year. And while that threat really shouldn’t be that terrifying, the sheer thought of it makes something twist in his gut and sends a cramp shooting upwards from his belly button to his chest.
He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. Shouldn’t he be happy to see the people he used to call his best friends? Shouldn’t the idea of getting back together with people he hasn’t seen in ten years be exciting? Shouldn’t the possibility of reforming those old bonds, rekindling old flames, reliving the golden days of youth be a joyful thing? Shouldn’t he want to go in there?
He watches as two girls he vaguely recognizes spot each other from a few feet down the sidewalk. They squeal and rush forward to greet each other with a hug. It reminds Hongjoong of how his brother greeted his wife and daughter when he came back from a month-long work trip. It’s the kind of hug reserved for people who were deeply loved and missed
Will he receive a welcome as warm when he finally makes his way inside? There’s a sickening doubt lingering in the back of his head.. Maybe that’s what’s making it so hard to gather the courage to step into the crosswalk. He’s somehow become a background character in his own narrative, watching everyone move on with their lives while he remains stagnant in a dead-end job, waiting for his big break, his moment to shine, to make a name for himself.
Their group chat isn’t nearly as active as it used to be, but from it, Hongjoong knows that Seonghwa and Mingi are engaged and live together near the beach in Sacheon. He knows San and Yeosang got married a few years back and just welcomed a little one of their own a few months ago. He knows Jongho is living his dream as the acting manager for his favorite baseball team, and somehow fell into a relationship with Wooyoung, the star pitcher for a completely different baseball team. And not just any different baseball team, but Jongho’s team’s bitter rival.
That last one caused a scandal. For a couple of hours, anyway.
That leaves two outliers from their little eight-some. Himself, obviously…and Yunho. By all logic, the two of them should’ve been the ones who ended up together first. In any good romance novel, they’d be the rare high school sweethearts who made it through college, got married, the whole nine.
Despite their differences, they had always balanced one another. Yunho was the loudest, funniest, warmest person in the room. He made friends easily and didn’t know the meaning of the word “stranger.” He was radiant, magnetic, and endlessly energetic. He drew in those around him effortlessly; he was a flame, and everyone around him—Hongjoong included—was a moth hypnotized by his light.
That’s not to say Hongjoong is the complete and total polar opposite. Not entirely. He shares some of those same traits, albeit in smaller, measured doses reserved for specific people. He’s charismatic and funny in the right settings. He’s kind and empathetic, and he’s the furthest thing from “cold,” but his love comes quietly and without fanfare. Where Yunho was an elaborate birthday scavenger hunt that ended in a surprise party, Hongjoong was a fresh cup of coffee on a random Tuesday when it was least expected. They worked well together. Hongjoong kept Yunho on the ground when his search for silver linings led to getting lost in the clouds. Yunho gently nudged Hongjoong out of his comfort zone so he didn’t take root there permanently.
They found comfort in the hours they spent together, whether that was time Yunho spent sitting on the floor listening to Hongjoong detail why Disintegration was the greatest album The Cure ever produced, or study sessions that inevitably ended in Hongjoong falling asleep to the dulcet tones of Yunho rage-clicking his way through a game of Valorant. And through those hours, Hongjoong found himself hopelessly head over heels for his friend. How could he not? Everyone he knew fell in love with Yunho at some point or another; it was almost a rite of passage. Have your first beer, fail your first exam, get your driver’s license, fall in love with Jeong Yunho. It’s just something you do.
Except it never went anywhere. Yunho never said anything about it, never hinted at any attraction or feelings bubbling under their ribs. And since Yunho never said anything, Hongjoong never got the courage to confess. He fell into the trap of not wanting to ruin the friendship, unwilling to risk losing the person he was closest to.
It ended up happening anyway. Time had pushed them apart, and now they’re merely two participants in a group chat that rarely sees activity, when they used to be inseparable.
Ironic.
Perhaps that’s the real reason he feels like he’s glued to the pavement, like his shoes are made of concrete, like his body is slowly experiencing rigor mortis, without the mortis. Death, it seems, would be far too kind a fate for Kim Hongjoong. Instead, his penance is to go in and face his old flame and pretend like it hasn’t been smouldering for ten years.
He takes another breath as he scans the sidewalk. More people have appeared, obviously there for the same reasons, but grouped into smaller clumps. He’s looking for one of his friends, someone he recognizes; the thought of being the first of them inside doesn’t sound appealing at all. Thankfully, he hears Mingi before he sees him, his loud cackle rising up over the sound of the cars passing by.
Well, now he doesn’t really have any more excuses… It’s getting close to the time listed on the invitation, and his stomach grumbles a little at the promise of free food and drinks. Now or never. He finally wills his feet into the crosswalk, attempting to keep an eye on Mingi the whole time.
He doesn’t really remember anything between the crosswalk and the door. Suddenly he’s standing at a row of tables, giving them his name and receiving a little magnetic name plate to stick on his shirt in exchange. He’s completely lost sight of Mingi, which should’ve been impossible, considering Mingi is almost always the tallest person in a room. He feels his heartbeat start to race again as he moves into the hall and slips out of the way, back to the wall as he looks around. There have to be fifty tables in here, easily; he has no idea how he’s going to—
Bzz-bzzt.
The vibration from his pocket is thankfully strong enough to draw him out of the impending spiral of introversion that threatens to paralyze him once more.
Park Seonghwa
The Annual Check-In Committee
Got us a table! Number 36 :)
Oh, thank God. Seonghwa saves the day again, like always.
Bzz-bzzt.
Song Mingi
The Annual Check-In Committee
It’s close to the buffet because Seonghwa loves me.
Song Mingi
The Annual Check-In Committee
Actually it’s because Seonghwa loves food
And it’s Mingi with the assist.
Finding them is incredibly simple once he locates the buffet. Seonghwa’s picked a spot to sit and Mingi is standing, counting the chairs before sitting down next to him. Hongjoong looks at the other tables and sees that there are eight, and he feels a little swell in his chest. It’s still the eight of them against the world.
He’s about five feet away from the table when Seonghwa notices him. “Joong-ah!!!” he calls with a wave, hopping up from his spot to meet him half way. “It’s so good to see you!”
“You too, hyung,” Hongjoong says with a smile as Seonghwa opens his arms to offer a hug. He accepts and steps into his friend’s embrace, and immediately feels warm when he feels his arms wrap around him. Seonghwa has always given the best hugs; they always feel like a mother welcoming her babies back home.
He’s missed things like this.
When they pull apart and sit down at the table, Hongjoong doesn’t waste any time grabbing for Seonghwa’s left hand. “Let me see.”
“Huh?”
“Your ring. I haven’t gotten to see it yet.”
“Oh!” Seonghwa beams and shows off his ring with a wiggle of his fingers. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It is,” Hongjoong agrees as he gently moves Seonghwa’s finger back and forth to see how the pink pear-shaped diamond sparkles. Three white diamonds that resemble leaves are on either side, and everything is set in a pretty rose gold band. It’s simple, but it’s gorgeous, and it’s very Seonghwa. “Mingi picked this out all on his own?”
“I did!” Mingi answers proudly. “It came with a matching wedding band, but for obvious reasons I haven’t given him that one yet.”
“Do you guys have a date set?”
“Not yet,” Seonghwa says with a shrug. “The legal aspect is a little tricky, but we’re not in a rush.”
“Speak for yourself,” jokes Mingi. “I can’t wait for that sweet, sweet tax break.”
“Damn,” says a voice to Hongjoong’s right. He looks over to see Jongho, the youngest of the eight of them, smirking with his arms crossed. “He’s only marrying you for the tax break?”
“Don’t let him say shit, Mingi,” Wooyoung interrupts from Jongho’s side. “That’s the only reason he’d marry me, too.”
“That’s because you’re annoying,” Jongho says with a roll of his eyes. “Seonghwa-hyung is a gem.”
“I swear I’ll leave you here.”
“And go where? We came in my car.”
Hongjoong chuckles as the two of them bicker back and forth, and he finds himself feeling a little silly for being so nervous earlier. It’s been ten years since they’ve all been together like this, and yet it feels like it was only yesterday. It’s like he’s sitting in the lunch room again, taking everything in as it happens around him. Fifteen minutes later, his phone buzzes again.
Kang Yeosang
The Annual Check-In Committee
Sorry we’re late!!! Our Uber just dropped us off and we’re on the way in, promise!
Wooyoung gasps as he reads the message on his own phone. “Finally, people who actually like me are here.”
“The baby doesn’t count,” Mingi reminds him with a grin, his crooked tooth proudly on display. He dodges a swat from Wooyoung and laughs as he hurries away to refresh both his and Seonghwa’s drinks.
San and Yeosang make it to the table in about five minutes, full of apologies and, much to Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s dismay, empty of baby. San flops down into a chair and apologizes for that, too, while Yeosang explains that the poor thing has been getting over her first cold, and they desperately needed a night to themselves after two weeks of endless crying on both their parts, and their daughter’s. They both look exhausted, but happy. Hongjoong notices that Yeosang still has some pregnancy glow leftover in the form of a pretty flush across his cheeks and nose and dewy skin.
Mingi returns a little later with a round of shots for the table. “I didn’t know if you were drinking tonight, Yeo, but I brought you a shot anyway just in case.”
Yeosang smiles but shakes his head. “I’m pumping, so I’m probably out.”
“Good thing I also got a virgin one, then!”
“When did you get so prepared?” Jongho asks. “Who are you and what have you done with Mingi?”
Mingi gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me, I have always taken partying incredibly seriously.”
“But being engaged to the textbook definition of Type A certainly helps,” Wooyoung quips.
Seonghwa opens his mouth like he’s about to retort, but stops and nods. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Mingi hands out the shots, making sure to give Yeosang the one that’s non-alcoholic. He places the extra one on the table in front of the open seat that’s oh-so conveniently placed next to Hongjoong.
“Are we gonna do the shot now?” San asks as he eyes the empty seat. “Or are we waiting for Yunho?”
“Actually,” Wooyoung muses as he quickly scrolls through his phone, “do we even know if he’s coming? Has anyone heard from him?”
“He’s coming,” Mingi assures. “He said he’s running a little late.”
“True Yunho fashion, then.”
“We’ll do the shot now, then, and make him do two when he gets here.”
“To ten years?”
“To ten years!”
Hongjoong clinks his shotglass against Seonghwa’s over the center of the table, then knocks it back as quickly as he can before grabbing his water to wash away the taste. He’s never been much of a drinker, and whatever Mingi brought back is vile. Thank God it’s their turn for the buffet; Hongjoong is practically sprinting to get over there quickly so he can mask the taste of what he can only assume is kerosene and razor blades.
The long table has a lot to offer, a variety of appetizers, side dishes, and main courses, including four pans of fried chicken—“Oh my God, yes,” Yeosang practically moans upon notice—separated into legs, wings, thighs, and breasts. There are also several different kinds of salad, which Hongjoong bypasses altogether. He may be twenty-seven now, but his aversion to anything green and leafy still holds strong. He tries his best to avoid the things he doesn’t like, but resigns himself to the fact he’s going to have to do some picky eater surgery when he gets back to the table.
He’s the first one back to his seat so he takes the time before everyone else gets back to start picking the bell peppers out of his stir-fry. If there’s one thing Hongjoong hates more than leafy vegetables, it’s bell peppers, and he’s got eyes like a hawk as he’s trying to pick them out. He’s locked in. He’s laser-focused. He’s—
“Still hate peppers, huh?”
He drops his chopsticks and whips around to find Yunho standing next to him with an amused smile on his face.
His heart skips a little in his chest, then he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks. He tries to play it off like he’s embarrassed he got caught, but in all actuality it’s because Yunho has only gotten more attractive since he saw him last. He looks the same, but…different. Older, obviously. More mature. His jaw is stronger now, and it looks like he finally fixed his nose after the time he smashed it on the train when he was younger. Hongjoong finds himself wondering if Yunho still snores like he used to, or if that ended when they corrected the fractured cartilage.
“You alright?” Yunho asks, and Hongjoong suddenly realizes he’s just been staring at Yunho wordlessly for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“Yeah,” he says finally, trying to will his heart to settle back down in his chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Yunho laughs and Hongjoong can feel his heart hammering against his ribs again. At this point, the organ is going to give out and he’s going to die right there. “Sorry,” Yunho says sheepishly, “I thought you heard me come up.”
“I was really focused on the peppers,” Hongjoong admits. “And I didn’t expect you so soon.” He gestures to the shotglass on the table. “That’s for you. They’re gonna make you take it as soon as you’re settled in. It tastes like rocket fuel.”
“Oh, that’s my favorite kind!” Yunho quickly grabs the glass off the table and swallows it like it’s nothing, quickly shaking it off. “Oh, that’s foul.”
“Mingi’s banned from getting alcohol for the table for the rest of the night.”
“Good.” Yunho looks over at the buffet and sees the others nearing the end of the line. “I’m gonna go get some food so you guys aren’t waiting any longer for me.”
“Sure, yeah. There’s a lot of chicken up there.”
Yunho smiles and pumps his fist close to his chest in victory. “Score.” He takes a step toward the food, but stops and turns back to Hongjoong. “Hey, hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s good to see you. I’m glad you came.”
Hongjoong suddenly feels like his mouth is full of sand. “I—y-yeah,” he manages, reaching for his glass of water. “You too.”
Yunho smiles softly. “Save my seat?”
“W-well, you got here super late, so…it’s the only one left.”
“The best for last, then. I’ll be right back!”
Hongjoong watches as Yunho walks away to fix himself a plate, then quickly hurries to the bar. He needs a drink like nobody’s business.
The official reunion is beginning to wrap up. The eight of them have spent the last three or four hours catching up and reminiscing between mouthfuls of food and second—third, if your name is Seonghwa—trips for more. They’ve taken turns running for rounds of drinks for the table, alternating between alcoholic and non-alcoholic at San’s suggestion.
Mingi boos him, but by round six he’s thankful to have a lemonade instead of a lemon drop.
The bartender just announced last call and the buffet had been packed up an hour ago. Most people have already said their goodbyes and left with promises to keep in touch that will inevitably be broken in a few months. Others have figured out somewhere to hold an unofficial afterparty, like the bars they frequented in their youth.
Hongjoong isn’t ready to say goodbye yet. Which is funny, he thinks, considering just a few hours ago he was trying to figure out how he could get out of being here. He feels silly now that he thinks about it; nothing has changed with his friends. They all still love each other as much as—no, more than—they did back then. It makes Hongjoong’s heart swell in his chest. He’s missed this feeling of closeness, this kinship. He hadn’t realized before this just how lonely he was. And now that he’s got it again, he doesn’t want to let it go.
“I think people are starting to call it a night,” he says quietly as he looks around. “Should we head out, too?” He’s testing the waters, trying to see if anyone else feels the same way he does.
Yunho catches on quickly. Of course he does; he’s always been in tune with Hongjoong and it’s only made him love him more. “We should find something to do together,” he suggests. “I mean, it’s a Friday night; I don’t think any of us really have anything going on tomorrow, right? I’m having a lot of fun with you guys.”
Relief washes over Hongjoong like a wave as his friends agree. He wishes this night didn’t have to end at all.
“Wait, oh my god,” Wooyoung says suddenly, dropping the straw he’d been idly chewing on. “It’s Friday.”
“Guys, great news! Wooyoung has finally learned his days of the week!” Yeosang cheers, clapping his hands.
“Fuck you,” Wooyoung bites with a snap of his teeth. “What I mean is, it’s Friday. Remember our Friday night ritual? When Mingi and Yunho always managed to score us a case of beer and we’d just hang out on the roof of the parking garage?”
“Oh yeah!” San chimes in. “The one by the sports complex, right? The one that’s technically for the shopping center?”
“Yeah, that one. I wonder if it’s still free to use.”
“Y’know, in hindsight, we’re really lucky that security never busted us for drinking,” Seonghwa adds with a laugh and a fond glance at Mingi. “We were just talking about that, actually. It was really nice outside a couple weeks ago and I mentioned to Mingi how much I kind of miss doing that.”
“Who says we can’t?” Yunho asks.
“We’d probably get arrested at our big ages.”
“For what? Loitering? No one gets arrested for loitering, they just tell you to leave. So again, who says we can’t?”
The table is quiet for a moment. They all glance at each other, and it’s like a silent understanding has fallen over them. They’re just waiting to see who’s going to make the first move.
Mingi looks at Yunho with a grin. “Beer run?”
Yunho is already out of his chair, keys in hand. “Hell yeah.”
The plan is simple: Jongho drives himself, Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang to the parking garage; Yunho drives himself, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Mingi to the liquor store and then to the parking garage.
Hongjoong feels like he’s sixteen again as he calls shotgun and runs to Yunho’s car. When he slides into the front passenger seat, Yunho hands him the aux cord. “You gotta play some good music, alright? This is gonna be the soundtrack of our wild and crazy night out.”
He scoffs and plugs the adapter into his phone. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
“The guy who went on an eight hour deep dive about The Cure?”
“You loved my eight hour deep dive about The Cure.”
“Sure did.” The way he doesn’t deny it makes Hongjoong’s heart skip a beat. If this keeps up, he’s going to have to see a doctor for arrhythmia. “But The Cure isn’t wild and crazy night out music.”
Hongjoong rolls his eyes and elbows him as he finds suitable music. Once Yunho is happy with his selection he lets out an excited yelp and peels out of the parking lot with the volume turned up on max.
Mingi and Yunho are seasoned professionals at this point. Yunho navigates to the liquor store like he just did it this morning, then the two of them leave the car running, jump out of the car, and race in to get their spoils. Hongjoong and Seonghwa both realize in the moment that they never witnessed the terror twins at work, and they laugh as the two of them come sprinting out of the liquor store like they’ve committed some kind of major heist. Mingi throws the alcohol into the trunk and slides into the backseat as Yunho revs the engine.
“Drive! Drive! Drive!” Mingi hollers, and Yunho steps on the gas like he’s running from the law.
“You didn’t actually steal the beer, right?” Seonghwa asks. They’re far too committed to the bit for his comfort.
“Of course we didn’t,” Mingi promises. “But it’s more fun to pretend we did.”
The drive to the garage isn’t a long one, but Yunho makes it count for old times’ sake. The city lights blur by around them as they make their way down a few city blocks, singing along to music they remember from their adolescence. Hongjoong almost wishes they could just drive until they ran out of road, but that’s not part of the Friday night ritual.
The parking garage is, by some miracle, still standing after a decade. It’s also surprisingly still free to use, and Yunho expertly handles the car up the twisting roadway that leads all the way to the top. Unsurprisingly, Jongho’s car is already there when they arrive, and Wooyoung is looking at his invisible watch while tapping his foot as they park.
“Took you long enough,” he teases as he rounds the back to be the first to dig into the beer. “We were dying of thirst out here. I can’t believe you left us like this.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Yunho tuts with manufactured sympathy. “It must’ve been so hard for you.”
“It was. We genuinely thought we were gonna die.”
“Dramatic."
Wooyoung winks. “And you love me for it.”
Yunho rolls his eyes as he unlocks the trunk and produces a bottle for everyone, including a zero-proof bottle for Yeosang. He grabs the cheap bottle opener he picked up in the liquor store and readies it on the lip of the cap.
“To reconnecting with old friends,” he says as he pops the cap and passes the opener to Mingi.
“To resurrecting the Friday night ritual,” Mingi adds as he does the same and passes it to Seonghwa.
“To one decade down and many more to come.”
The bottle opener makes its way to each of them, and they each offer a toast. To health. To happiness. To families of both blood and choice. To fulfilled dreams and lifelong success.
Hongjoong is the last to receive the bottle opener, and he thinks for a while about what he wants to toast to. “To…love, without condition.” He tries not to make it obvious that he glances at Yunho before he pops off his bottle cap. They all tap the necks of their bottles together and drink to their toasts, and the wish for many more Friday nights to come.
“It’s hot,” Wooyoung states matter-of-factly after his third beer. “Let’s go swimming.”
“Where?” San questions.
“The sports complex, duh. How much do you wanna bet they never fixed that messed up door?”
Hongjoong can’t deny that a swim sounds nice. Even with the open air on the garage roof, it’s still hot and a little humid. And the alcohol definitely isn’t helping keep them cool.
It’s not like it would be hard to get to the pool at the sports complex. The building is rather old; it certainly doesn’t have state-of-the-art locks. And while it’s still maintained and taken care of, it’s no secret that fixing the door in question is extremely low on the owners’ list of things to do, and has been for the last decade.
None of them have appropriate swim attire, but who cares? It’s not the first time they’ve taken a dip fully-clothed.
“Last one there has to foot the bill for the alcohol!” Wooyoung announces as he takes off running.
“Hell no!” Mingi shouts as he takes off after him. “Wooyoung, you still owe from the last one!”
And they’re off, chasing after each other down the spiral ramp and trying to do everything possible to hold Wooyoung accountable for this long overdue debt.
Hongjoong kicks off his shoes as he runs and plunges himself feet-first into the water. It’s warmer than he expected, but it’s still incredibly refreshing when he resurfaces. The sounds of water splashing and joyful voices reverberating off the walls of the natatorium fade over time into a moment of quiet reflection and peace, a moment to just…be.
Hongjoong lifts himself out of the water and sits on the edge of the pool, looking around at his friends. Yeosang had to excuse himself so he could pump, and San went with him just because. Mingi and Seonghwa sit along the far edge of the pool, wrapped up in one another. And Wooyoung and Jongho are enjoying a rare moment of being publicly infatuated with each other.
Yunho has opted to sit next to him, long legs idly moving around in the water. The silence isn’t…uncomfortable between them, but there’s definitely something there, something unsaid.
Hongjoong thinks maybe now’s the time. What does he have to lose? If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. There’s nothing riding on it this time, so why not take the metaphorical plunge? He takes a breath. He’s just gonna say it; he’s—
“Hyung…?”
Damn it.
“Hm?” Hongjoong hums as he looks over at Yunho. “What’s up?”
“Do you think maybe…now that we’ve done this silly reunion…we can go back to being friends?”
“Weren’t we always?”
“Is that what this is?”
No. Not really, he supposes. Over the years they’ve sadly become mere acquaintances and it’s enough to break his heart. “I…guess not, no…”
“I just… I miss you. Or I guess I missed you, since you’re right here and all… But I missed you.”
“You did?”
“I miss what we were…whatever that was. Cause of course we were friends, right, but…”
The next thing Hongjoong does is a blur. He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe it’s the chlorine fumes. Maybe it’s the rush of breaking into the sports complex. It’s probably the beer—Hongjoong has never held his liquor well. Whatever it is, it makes him quickly close the small gap between them and finally, finally, he kisses Yunho. Kisses him like it could somehow assuage the pain caused by the chasm of regret that’s built in his stomach over the last decade.
He waits for the rejection, waits for the push, readies an apology for misreading the situation…but it never comes. Instead, Yunho pulls him closer, kisses him back like it’s all he’s been waiting for and more, and Hongjoong’s brain short circuits.
They pull away after a moment, both equally shocked at what just happened.
“You…” Hongjoong starts, but he has no idea what his next words were going to be.
“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Yunho confesses with an awkward laugh.
“You have…?” Hongjoong questions, almost bewildered.
“Yeah.”
“Wh-why didn’t you?”
“You’re gonna laugh, but I was afraid of ruining our friendship.”
“You know what’s funnier?” Hongjoong asks. “So did I, and I was afraid of ruining our friendship, too.”
Yunho can’t hold in his chuckle. “You mean to tell me we could’ve been doing this this whole time?”
“Seems like it.”
“Then…I guess we got a lot of time to make up for, don’t we?”
“We do.”
Yunho grins and pulls Hongjoong into his lap. “Guess we better get started then, huh?”