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taehyunsloves · 1 month ago

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╰┈➤ ❝ I need you more than I want to ❞

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x Kang Taehyun

Rating: nsfw 🔞

Wc: 3.4k

Contains/tags: rough sex in any way

Summary: After the Pepero game, Taehyun admits to himself that he’s probably down bad for his hyung — in more ways than one. OR Unapologetically diabolical Taegyu smut.

Song: Shameless - Camila Cabello

- - - - - - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - - - - - -

“Don’t think about the game, just kiss!” Yeonjun said with a grin and the members laughed. “I can’t watch this...” Kai added while turning away.

Taehyun and Beomgyu stand in front of each other, waiting for Taehyun to give the signal to start. Beomgyu already knows Taehyun is going to act all shy — a typical Taehyun move whenever something involves touching others. (Huening is the only exception.) The other members are ready for a good show — and unfortunately, these two are the first pairing playing the Pepero game. This is definitely not what Taehyun has imagined for today’s Gayo Snack Bar, but… it is what it is.

He puts the Pepero between his teeth, waiting for Beomgyu to lean in. “Oh, I’m nervous… but let’s go, Taehyunie,” Beomgyu says with a nervous smile.

Instead of taking it slow, his hyung goes all in. The Pepero shortens way too fast. Has he ever been this close to Beomgyu before? Not his face — and definitely not his lips. Lips that now hover very close to his own.

Before Taehyun lets his thoughts drift, he reminds himself: this is still a show. There are cameras. Fans. Expectations. He’s not supposed to look too into it. Not supposed to give anyone a reason to start rumors. Even if… they’d probably love it.

Now or never — he bites. The Pepero falls to the floor. The members laugh again, louder this time. Beomgyu pulls back, clearly disappointed.

“Why did you cut it off!?” he whines.

Taehyun says nothing. His mind is somewhere else. This… was strange.

Turns out their final Pepero length is only 3.4 cm — not exactly record-breaking. Usually, Taehyun is super competitive, but this time? Winning isn’t the issue. The issue is Beomgyu — still whining, still complaining that they could have won. That it would have gone better if only Taehyun had stayed calm.

“It’s just a game, Gyu. I didn’t mean to cut it off,” Taehyun says, trying to sound casual. “I was laughing… it just happened.”

He’s not really trying to explain it to Beomgyu. He’s trying to calm himself down. Trying to make it less weird — at least to the others watching.

“It’s okay, Taehyunie,” Kai says with a grin. “Soobin and I will break the high score instead. Right, hyung?”

And honestly — they almost do.

***

The group leaves the Inkigayo building after a successful but exhausting day. The other members head to the company to finish recording the last parts for their upcoming unit song, leaving Taehyun and Beomgyu alone.

“Do you want to have some ramyeon at the dorm? Soobin-hyung will be back late, and you don’t want me eating alone, do you, Taehyun-ah?” Beomgyu pouts, sounding playful.

Taehyun smiles, relieved at the company. “Sure. Otherwise, I’d probably just be bored until the others get back. I think we still have enough ramyeon at home.”

The car ride back is quiet, filled with the low hum of the engine and the sound from Beomgyu’s phone. Taehyun keeps thinking about the game. It was just a game, but there’s this strange feeling he can’t get rid off. He definitely panicked when his hyung got close—too close.

A voice inside him adds: Not close enough.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Taehyun doesn‘t think about his friends that way.

“Just kiss,” Yeonjun said before the game started. Of course, Yeonjun would say that. Taehyun has caught him and Soobin many times behind corners, talking quietly, both looking suspiciously blushed.

Sure. But Taehyun isn’t like that. He’s not the type to kiss his friends. There are limits, and this is one of them.

He glances over at Beomgyu, who’s scrolling through TikTok, eyes meeting his.

“Why are you watching me?” Beomgyu asks with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying the moment. “Missing the view of my face?” he adds.

Taehyun chuckles quietly, feeling a warmth he tries not to admit. He doesn’t reply — not because he doesn’t want to, but because some things are better left unsaid for now.

Beomgyu leans back, still smiling.

Taehyun watches the way Beomgyu’s eyes flicker between the screen and him, and a thought crosses his mind: maybe things don’t have to be so complicated. Maybe this feeling isn’t something to fight.

But he pushes the idea away before it grows. Not yet.

***

After they arrive at the dorm, the two kick off their shoes and immediately raid the storage room. “Yeonjun-hyung gonna be mad if he finds out his last two ramyeon are gone…” Taehyun warns. “Perfect,” Beomgyu replies with a mischievous grin. Of course, he’d do anything to annoy Yeonjun.

Beomgyu heads to the kitchen to boil water while Taehyun unpacks their food bags. “Sit down, hyungie, I’ll do it,” Taehyun offers, already moving to take charge. Beomgyu nods and drops onto a stool at the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on Taehyun. He notices the younger is acting strange since the game.

“Taehyun-ah,” Beomgyu says softly, breaking the silence. Taehyun turns slowly, confused by the serious tone. He braces himself for what’s coming. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird since the game,” Beomgyu says, voice low but steady.

“I…” Taehyun stutters, words failing him. There’s no easy explanation, no neat excuse. Seeing the struggle, Beomgyu takes the lead.

“Forget my question. You don’t have to explain,” Beomgyu says gently. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. It’s not like I was seriously gonna kiss you like Kai would have.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

Something shifts inside Taehyun when Beomgyu talks about it so openly. There’s no point of hiding anymore anyways. He knows Beomgyu — knows how he looks at him sometimes. Maybe it’s time to be honest with his favorite hyung.

“It’s not that…” Taehyun begins, searching for words. „I don’t know. I shouldn’t feel this way — didn’t even know I could — but I think… I just realized… I need you more than I want to, more than I’m willing to admit, Gyu.“

Beomgyu stares at him, jaw slightly open, caught off guard by Taehyun’s words. The room goes silent. Only the faint bubbling of the kettle and their breaths fill the space.

Taehyun lowers his gaze, unsure if he’s just ruined something he can’t take back. His fingers twitch slightly at his side, like he’s trying to hold something in. Beomgyu still doesn’t say anything. He’s just watching him — not shocked, not laughing it off. Just… quiet. Like he’s waiting.

And that waiting does something to Taehyun. He feels something tighten in his chest, some invisible wall falling. This is Beomgyu. The one who teases everyone but always takes care of him, the one who always sees more. And maybe… maybe he already knows. Maybe he always knew.

He takes a shaky breath. “I’ve been trying to ignore it,” Taehyun admits, almost to himself. “But I couldn’t when you got that close.” He steps closer, just slightly. Watching Beomgyu’s reaction — a small inhale, a twitch in his fingers on the countertop.

“I don’t want to regret not doing something when I could have,” Taehyun adds, his voice low, serious. Still no rejection. No backing away. Just heat and tension.

Then something clicks. Taehyun turns off the kettle with a slow, deliberate motion. He moves behind Beomgyu, body close, not touching yet.

“Don’t reject me, hyung.”

A chill runs down Beomgyu’s spine. He nods. The nod is all Taehyun needs.

When the younger’s lips touch the other’s neck, something between them shifts — as if a barrier has fallen. Still seated, Beomgyu tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his sensitive spot. The soft kisses and playful bites blur his thoughts; his breathing grows heavy.

“I didn’t expect this to happen…” he whispers.

“I know you’ve wanted me for so long,” Taehyun murmurs, and there’s something dangerous in the way he says it, something that makes Beomgyu’s knees feel weaker. The moan he lets out in response is proof enough. He is right. Taehyun has ever been his favorite maknae.

Taehyun’s voice drops lower. “You ever thought about showering with me, hyungie? Getting all wet together?“ A small pause. “That something you wanted?”

Beomgyu doesn’t answer right away. His eyes shift, not out of shame, but like he’s weighing whether it’s okay to admit it. There’s no joke in Taehyun’s tone, just a sort of curiosity. And something else. After a moment, Beomgyu nods.

“So shy all of a sudden,” Taehyun smirks. “Not the loud hyung I know… but I like this version.”

Taehyun reaches out and grabs Beomgyu’s wrist. His grip is firm, but not rough. “Come on,” he says, turning without looking back.

As soon as they enter the bathroom, Taehyun shuts the door. Not even a second later, Beomgyu finds himself pinned against the wall, trapped between strong arms. For a second, Taehyun doesn’t move. He just looks at him.

Beomgyu’s chest rises and falls faster than before, the shift from quiet teasing to this catching up to him in real time. But he doesn’t look away. Taehyun tilts his head slightly, eyes scanning Beomgyu’s face like he’s reading something.

“You’re breathing like you didn’t see this coming,” he says, voice quiet but sharp.

When lips meet it feels like time stops. At this moment, there is only Taehyun and Beomgyu — lost in breaths, whimpers, growls, and countless kisses. Their tongues twist, dancing with each other. Taehyun’s hand moves to Beomgyu’s jaw, touching it gently.

“I’ll make you feel so good. But first…” He lets Beomgyu go, stepping back to turn on the shower. Without hesitation, he pulls Beomgyu inside. Their clothes soak in seconds, clinging to their bodies. The outline of Taehyun’s muscles becomes visible through the wet fabric, and Beomgyu can’t stop staring.

“On your knees,” Taehyun says.

He pulls down the zipper, tugging the younger’s pants down and throwing them aside. In front of him: a perfectly pink, flushed dick.

His hand moves first — slow and exploring. His touch isn’t hurried. He starts at the base and glides upward, his thumb brushing just beneath the tip before trailing back down again. A teasing rhythm, not meant to satisfy. When he glances up, Taehyun’s head is tipped back against the wall, eyes half-lidded, chest rising just a bit quicker than before.

The moment Beomgyu closes his lips around the tip and moves deeper, a low groan escapes Taehyun. He looks down, seeing his cock disappearing into his hyung’s mouth. His hand finds its way to Beomgyu’s hair, fingers tightening just enough.

Jaw clenched, breath catching at the sight in front of him. “Be good for me, hyung,” he says, voice rough — not a request, but a warning.

This seems to motivate Beomgyu in his actions; he goes faster, deeper.

Every time Taehyun feels his tip hitting the older’s throat, he needs more until his patience snaps.

He grabs Beomgyu’s head, holding it in place as he starts to slowly fuck his friend’s face. Beomgyu’s gagging sounds like music, and the bittersweet tears building up in his eyes are his muse. He can feel his high coming at any second.

After a last deep stroke in the older’s throat, he pulls out and shoots his load on his hyung’s face. Beomgyu looks as down for him as he had never been before. Licking the semen off wherever his tongue can reach, eyes bright as he looks up.

Taehyun’s heavy breathing doesn’t stop him from talking more filth. “You look so pretty with your eyes teary and my cum on your face.”

***

The two washed up after their make-out in the shower and headed back to the kitchen, still heated up. Before they could reach Taehyun’s room, something overcame the younger.

In the next moment, he shoves the open ramyeon packs on the kitchen counter aside and lifts Beomgyu onto it, pushing himself between his thighs, pulling his hyung close. The older bents down for a kiss. Taehyun stands on his tiptoes, holding Beomgyu close, whose hardness presses against his stomach.

“Fuck, Gyu…” he hisses. Beomgyu replies with a soft moan. “I want to spend the night with you. I don’t care if the members find out who you belong to.”

He leans in for another kiss, straying over his cheek, blowing air traces until he reaches Beomgyu’s neck. Placing kisses, sucking on his skin. A mark will be visible tomorrow, but Taehyun doesn’t care — that’s a problem for future them.

“Turn around, pretty boy,” he commands.

The older obeys and turns around, now lying on his stomach, legs hanging down from the counter. His veins are filled with adrenaline, not knowing what will come next until he feels Taehyun dragging down his boxers. With a dull thud, they land on the floor beside the counter.

Taehyun’s hands glide slowly over Beomgyu’s back, tracing the line of his spine down to rest briefly on his hips. His voice drops to a soft whisper. “So pretty… Gonna eat you out so good.”

Taehyun meets his gaze with a slow, satisfied smile. His fingers trail down Beomgyu’s hips, sliding lower until they cup the roundness of his cheeks. The warmth of his touch draws a soft, almost breathless sound from Beomgyu.

The younger parts his cheeks, appreciating the view: his hyung in front of him, ready to get ruined. “So ready…” he whispers, voice low and husky. “I’m gonna make you burn.”

The older feels his heart pound faster, his body already responding to the promise in Taehyun’s words. He wants this - so god damn bad.

Beomgyu twitches the moment Taehyun’s spit lands on his most sensitive spot, the sudden wetness sending an unexpected shiver through him. He swallows hard, breath hitching as Taehyun’s fingers follow, tracing slow, deliberate lines along the delicate skin of his fold.

Then, without warning, Taehyun’s thumb presses gently against his entrance. A hiss escapes the older, quickly swallowed by a needy moan that betrays how much he’s already craving more.

“Just relax,” Taehyun murmurs close to his ear, voice low and steady. “I’ll be careful.”

The strange, new sensation sends Beomgyu’s mind spinning — a whirl of heat and tension pooling inside him. His body responds almost instantly, aching for more, hungry for what comes next. “More, Taehyunie… more,” he begs.

After one last slow stroke with his thumb, Taehyun pulls back. The absence is brief — just long enough to make Beomgyu gasp softly at the sudden emptiness.

And then he feels it — warm, wet, and soft. Taehyun’s tongue replaces his thumb, beginning with light, teasing flicks that make Beomgyu jolt with every pass. Each movement is controlled.

Beomgyu’s hands curl against the counter edge. But Taehyun doesn’t stop. His movements get firmer. His grip tightens on Beomgyu’s hips, holding him steady as he works, relentless and focused, chasing every reaction he can get.

After some minutes of teasing and enjoying the sounds of sex, his tongue finds its way to where his thumb was before, buried as deep as possible while holding Beomgyu in place.

“You’re so good for me,” he growls.

“Tae-Taehyunie, I’m close…” Beomgyu whimpers. “No, don’t think about it, we’re not done yet,” Taehyun growls. After one more stroke with his tongue, he pulls out, replacing his tongue once again with his fingers—two this time.

He feels Beomgyu clenching around it. It makes his dick twitch; his boxers are already soaked in precum. “Do you want my cock, hyung?” - “..Ye-yes,” the older stutters.

“Then beg for it.”

“Pl-please fuck me so good, I want to feel you inside of me,” he begs.

Not a second later, Taehyun pulls off his boxers, aligning his tip at Beomgyu’s entrance. Before he enters, he spreads a mixture of precum and saliva with teasing movements. Then he finally pushes in step by step, enjoying the tight feeling of Beomgyu’s ass.

“Fuuuuck… you’re so tight, hyungie,” he growls. “So fucking tight.”

Beomgyu screams when Taehyun stretches him. It burns, but it’s a good kind of pain. His back arches. As soon as Taehyun is buried deep inside, he starts moving. First slow and careful. Then deep and intense.

The sight alone nearly undoes him. Watching his cock sink deeper into his hyung, over and over again. It’s overwhelming, the way Beomgyu takes him so well, the way his body reacts to every movement like it’s made for him.

Taehyun grips his hips tighter, fingertips digging in, desperate to hold on to something real. His mind is half-gone — driven wild by the view.

The air is thick with noise: Beomgyu’s breathy moans, Taehyun’s low growls, and the steady, raw sound of skin meeting skin — sharp and wet. It’s messy. Intense. Addictive.

And neither of them wants it to stop.

In one swift motion, Taehyun grabs a fistful of Beomgyu’s hair, yanking his head back just enough to expose the curve of his throat. The sudden pull draws a sharp gasp from Beomgyu, somewhere between a cry and a moan.

Taehyun’s movements grow rougher, rhythm losing its earlier patience. There’s no more teasing. And Beomgyu takes it all,, the sting of Taehyun’s grip grounding him. Every sound that leaves Beomgyu only fuels him more.

Every thrust hits the older’s prostate just in the right place; he is trying to hold back his high too badly. His whole body is burning, tears rolling down his cheeks from overstimulation.

As if the pace wasn’t already brutal enough, a sudden sharp slap lands on Beomgyu’s left cheek. The sting blooms instantly, heat radiating across his skin, but what surprises him most is the way it pulls a loud, unfiltered moan from deep in his throat. His breath comes out ragged. It’s too much and not enough.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought flickers: there’s no way the neighbors aren’t hearing this. The moans, the slap, the rhythmic collision of bodies — it’s impossible to hide.

But in this moment, he doesn’t care. The only thing that matters is the grip on his body, the burn in his skin, and the feeling of completely losing control.

“You like that, like the little slut you are?” Taehyun asks. “Mhm…” Beomgyu replies with a nod.

He places another strong spank on the other cheek, followed by another whimper. The red, glowing cheeks drive him insane. Pushing Beomgyu’s head down on the counter this time, thrusting at an impressive pace, getting closer to his climax. The older’s wet eyes and needy moans are too much.

With one last deep thrust, he spills his load inside. A low groan escapes his throat.

Beomgyu joins right after with high-pitched moans, clenching around Taehyun, spilling his cum on the kitchen counter. Slowly riding out their climax together.

The younger pulls out, enjoying the view of his cum leaking out. Not even a second later, he shoves it back in with two of his fingers. Beomgyu whines at the overstimulation.

“You look so hot with my cum leaking out of you,” he whispers in desire.

After a few minutes of just breathing, he lifts Beomgyu from the counter, carrying his ruined body into Taehyun’s bed. “I’ll clean up the mess and will be right back in a minute,” he says, kissing his hyung on his forehead.

***

The kitchen is a disaster. Yeonjun’s ramyeon on the ground, the counter full of sweat and cum — a little bit gross, to be honest, their boxers on the floor and stool. Oh well.

He doesn’t want to miss out on cuddling, so he cleans the worst parts, collects their briefs, and rushes back to his room.

Beomgyu lying in his bed wasn’t on today’s bucket list, nor was it to have such a great fuck with him. Taehyun crawls into his bed beside the older, taking place as big spoon.

“Sorry if I was too harsh,” he whispers. “Don’t apologize, I loved it,” Beomgyu smiles softly. “I’d be down for another round tonight.”

Taehyun laughs warmly, with a hint of warning in his tone. “Take it slow, hyungie, otherwise you can’t walk properly tomorrow.”

Beomgyu shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a good actor, I can deal with it…” He moves around, rolling on top of Taehyun, looking into a confused face. “I haven’t ridden you yet, so…”

“You want to take control? You wish, hyung, not with me,” the older replies, already hard again.

The moment Beomgyu bends down for a kiss, they hear a door clicking, a scream following right after.

“MY RAMYEON! WHO DID THAT? TAEHYUN-AH, BEOMGYU-YAH!”

The two look at each other, shocked for a moment but then burst out laughing.

They’re cooked.

#tomorrow x together #txt #fanfiction #txt smut #kang taehyun #kpop #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #taehyunsloves #taehyun hard hours #taehyun smut #choi beomgyu #txt fics #txt thoughts #txt hard hours #taegyu #taehyun x beomgyu #beomgyu x taehyun #choi Beomgyu x kang Taehyun

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studioeisa · 8 months ago

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the loser and lover both die at the end ꩜ yeonjun.

── .✦ 💌 inspired by adam silvera's they both die at the end, major character death, alternate universe: non-idol, [heavy] angst, grief/mourning, last day on earth, platonic relationships, slice of life, [possibly] unrequited love.

── .✦ 🚏 this is the last of my non-svt/skz fanfiction for now! first published on ao3... at a time where i was admittedly very obsessed with yeonjun's watermelon sugar x blow dance cover (lol). this is thematically heavy, so please look out for yourself. it's also my first ever kpop fic (whew!) and so my writing style isn't like this anymore, but it's a good time capsule of some sorts.

── .✦ 📟 wc: 12,000+

On the day that he’s supposed to die, Choi Yeonjun learns what it means to be alive.

Choi Yeonjun was in the locker room when he got the call.

It was cruel, really. Everything had been so perfect until then. The cold noodles he had for breakfast were divine. There wasn’t any traffic on the way to the dance studio. And it took him only three hours to film his dance cover of Watermelon Sugar, as opposed to his other routines that usually ate up his whole day.

He had ducked into the locker room to send the group chat a quick text about their dinner plans when his phone started ringing. It was an unregistered number, which Yeonjun wouldn’t usually have bothered to answer— but he was in such a good mood, and how could anything go wrong on a day like this?

“Yeonjun speaking,” he chirped, using his free hand to sift through the mess of his locker. He was pretty sure he’d packed an extra pair of clothes somewhere. “Who’s this?”

“Hello. I’m calling from Death-cast.”

A beat.

“Could you please confirm that you are Choi Yeonjun, born September 13, 1999?” the monotone voice on the other end of the line asked.

It wasn’t until later that Yeonjun would realize how standard the entire spiel was. He’d already mentioned his name on the get-go; this stranger was just calmly reading off a script as if it weren’t the worst call of Yeonjun’s life.

“Hello, Yeonjun? Are you there?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun said quickly. Pulling away from his locker, he slumped down onto the nearest bench. “Yes, this is Choi Yeonjun.”

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 24 hours, you will be meeting an untimely death.” The caller paused, as if to let the information sink in.

“On behalf of Death-cast, we are sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest, okay?”

“Okay,” Yeonjun responded dazedly. Then, more out of habit than anything, he weakly added, “Thank you.”

The call cut without another word.

Yeonjun sat in his seat for what felt like an eternity, staring at his phone log. Three minutes. His entire conversation with the Death-cast had lasted only three minutes.

This had happened to him before. He’d be having a Good Day, but then something small would come around and trip him up.

Maybe the master CD would refuse to play. Maybe Soobin nicked the kimbap he’d been saving. There was always something.

Beomgyu jokingly called them hiccups, and Yeonjun found himself waiting for them; holding his breath for whatever might take away his day’s joy.

The Death-cast call was today’s hiccup. The worst hiccup he’d ever gotten.

His phone pinged, snapping him out of his shell-shocked state. It was Soobin.

do u still need a ride?

Ping. Another text from Soobin.

reply asap i wont hv time 2 make a uturn if u dont reply NOW

Despite himself, Yeonjun chuckled. What did Soobin know about not having time?

As he keyed in his response, he contemplated skipping out on dinner. Maybe he could just disappear. No one would ever have to know he was dying, and they’d also never know when he died.

I’ll meet you there, Yeonjun responded instead.

Ping.

suit urself!!!! dnt b late yeonttomeok ~

The stupid nickname. Yeonjun grimaced at the sight of it. Then, his expression softened, because he realized that he couldn’t do it.

Yeonjun couldn’t run from Soobin or the rest of the boys. If he was going to spend his last day with anyone, he was going to do it with them.

He left the dance studio half an hour later. He emptied out his locker first, then he walked around for a bit to take it all in. On his way out, he tacked a note on the studio’s student corkboard.

It would take a few days for anyone to notice. The grieving custodian is the one who finds it; a neon orange Post-It, hiding in plain sight among a sea of reminders and ID pictures.

Thank you, he’d written. For everything. -YJ. 09/16/21

“You should try some of my pizza,” Hueningkai said enthusiastically, shoving a slice onto everyone’s plates. “It’s to die for!”

Yeonjun choked on his drink.

On Yeonjun’s right, Beomgyu burst into peals of laughter, mimicking Yeonjun’s hacking coughs. Soobin, on the left, was tapping Yeonjun’s back sympathetically— though also visibly holding back his own grin.

As Yeonjun tried to clear the blockage in his throat, he fleetingly thought that this was it. He was going to drop dead in the booth of an American fast food chain, right before he could even tell his friends that he was on borrowed time.

But then the cola went down, and Hueningkai’s incessant apologies started sounding louder than the fears in his head, and Yeonjun quietly thanked God that his cause of death was not as lame as he thought it’d be.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Yeonjun sighed, looking around the table. A sneer for Beomgyu. A smile of reassurance for Soobin and Hueningkai. And for Taehyun…

There was an odd look on Taehyun’s face that knocked the wind out of Yeonjun.

It was almost like Taehyun knew. How could he, though?

Yeonjun held the other boy’s gaze, the two of them staring each other down intently.

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sing-songed, waving his hand in front of Yeonjun’s face.

Taehyun looked temporarily startled by the intrusion before his expression quickly shifted into something more pleasant. Despite both of them breaking into a smile, Yeonjun couldn’t help but still feel a bit unsettled.

“You’re extra sunny today,” Yeonjun sarcastically told Beomgyu. The latter smiled cheekily and shrugged.

“What can I say? I love the first Friday of each month,” the younger boy said. As he turned away from Yeonjun to shove some fries into his mouth, it occurred to Yeonjun that this would be their last first Friday.

The five of them had been close friends since 2019. It started off as a small group that enjoyed playing computer games with each other, but then Taehyun quit gaming to focus on his studies and Hueningkai decided he wanted to spend his money on collecting plush toys.

It was Soobin who insisted that they meet up even if it meant not going to internet cafes anymore. That unassuming evening marked the start of a two-year tradition of meeting up every first Friday of the month.

They still met up outside of those Fridays, of course. Soobin and Yeonjun actually moved in to be roommates half a year ago, and Beomgyu liked to still play video games with Yeonjun every now and then.

But first Fridays were sacred. No one missed out on them, come storms or break-ups. Their Fridays were the glue that kept the five of them together.

“Sorry. Give me a second.”

It didn’t immediately register to Yeonjun that Taehyun had excused himself from the table. Only when Hueningkai made an offhand comment about Taehyun taking his time, only then did the feeling of dread settle at the pit of Yeonjun’s stomach.

“I’ll check on him,” he volunteered immediately, hastily climbing over Soobin’s legs to get out of the suffocating booth.

As he speedily walked away, he could hear Beomgyu cracking a joke to the remaining two boys. Yeonjun missed out on the rest of the story as he ducked into the men’s bathroom.

The overwhelming stench of bile was the first thing that hit Yeonjun; instinctively, he covered his nose with his hand.

From a barely closed stall, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone retching. Trying his best not to gag, Yeonjun took a few tentative steps towards the source.

From where he was standing, he could recognize Taehyun’s Adidas shoes.

Yeonjun couldn’t come any closer.

Taehyun, from inside the stall, finally stopped convulsing. A brief moment passed before he flushed and stumbled out. Head bent, Taehyun mumbled apologies before stopping in his tracks at the sight of Yeonjun. For the second time that night, the two carefully regarded each other.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Taehyun made an annoyed tsk sound. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned up at the older boy.

“You too, huh?” he asked quietly.

To Yeonjun, it felt like the punch line to the world’s worst joke.

They decided to tell the rest of the boys after footing the bill.

It was unceremonious at best and merciless at worst, for Taehyun and Yeonjun to break the news outside Hueningkai’s favorite restaurant. And Beomgyu made it so easy, too, by kidding about it as they headed out.

“What are you two so nice for? Don’t tell me you’re dying,” he teased, and Taehyun and Yeonjun shared a look as if to say, Well, now that you’ve mentioned it…

Even though they talked it over in the bathroom, actually telling the rest turned out to be quite hard. At first, Beomgyu thought they were messing with him; that they’d colluded the whole plot while they were both gone.

As he screeched at Taehyun and Yeonjun that it wasn’t funny, Yeonjun pulled out his phone to show off his last received call. Taehyun did the same.

Beomgyu got dreadfully quiet after that.

Soobin, ever the soft one, burst into quiet tears. Hueningkai held on to him, looking as though he might pass out if he wasn’t clutching on to something. Taehyun approached the two and whispered words of comfort that Yeonjun caught only bits and pieces of.

“Have each other… Accepted our fate… Be okay…”

Lies, the eldest of them found himself thinking angrily. All lies.

No longer able to handle it, Yeonjun stalked over to Beomgyu. The younger boy was crouched near the sidewalk corner with no discernible expression on his face. His silence spoke volumes to Yeonjun; it was comforting to share, so much that Yeonjun felt a bit disappointed when Beomgyu spoke up.

“What now?”

“What now?” Yeonjun repeated.

“Are you just gonna lay down and die?” Beomgyu asked brazenly. Momentarily floored by Beomgyu’s audacity, Yeonjun looked at him like it was his first time seeing him.

It was a silly notion, honestly. They saw each other practically every day. Next to Soobin, Beomgyu was the one closest to him. Admittedly, though, Beomgyu was also the one who irritated him the most.

But not today.

“I’ve always loved how shameless you can be,” Yeonjun blurted out, the heat immediately rushing to his cheeks at the sudden confession. If Beomgyu was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he answered with a faint smirk. “Anyway, back to my question. What now? Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?”

“But it’s 8 PM,” Yeonjun said dumbly. Beomgyu promptly smacked him on the back of the head, making Yeonjun yell with indignation.

“You’re dying and you’re thinking about curfew?” Beomgyu bellowed. “Do you understand just how stupid that sounds?”

“I swear, you’ll be the one that kills me,” Yeonjun grumbled, rubbing the spot Beomgyu hit.

The younger boy barrelled on. “We don’t know how or when exactly you’re going to die. You and Tae can’t sit around and just wait. There’s so much that you can do in 24 hours!”

“Less than 24 hours.”

“With all due respect, Junnie—I don’t give a fuck.”

Yeonjun let out a disbelieving chuckle. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu was right. It’d be a waste to spend his last day in fearful anticipation of the inevitable.

“Do you have a marker on you?” Yeonjun asked suddenly.

Between the five of them, Beomgyu was the only one who was skilled at drawing. He sometimes carried the most random of art materials around with him and that night was no exception. “Just a blue one,” he said after sifting through his backpack. No questions asked, he passed it over to Yeonjun.

Looking around, Yeonjun zeroed in on the restaurant’s painted wall. It was in a pristine shade of white. Perfect.

“Cover for me,” he commanded Beomgyu. The latter did as he was told, shielding Yeonjun from the street’s view.

After a minute or two, Beomgyu was no longer able to contain his curiosity. “What are you doing?” he piped up, obviously trying to mask his interest.

The impatience made Yeonjun laugh.

“You can look now,” he said.

Beomgyu turned to face Yeonjun.

On the restaurant’s shop front, Yeonjun had left yet another small thing to be remembered by. Along with a doodle of a pizza and a cola was a scrawled note, a note: YJ’s last supper. 09/16/21.

If it had been any other day, Beomgyu might have commented on the abysmal state of Yeonjun’s drawings or the chicken scratch quality of his handwriting. That night, though, he wordlessly reached out for the marker.

Quickly, he sketched what seemed to be chibi versions of the two of them.

“Always stealing my thunder,” Yeonjun jeered, though the taunt was softened significantly by the astonishment beneath his tone. Beomgyu’s rendition of them was uncanny. Finishing up, he wrote: Gyu was here too!

Beomgyu looked up at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun smiled at him in response.

An iPhone note found in Choi Yeonjun’s phone, dated September 16, 2021. Last edited: 8:34 PM.

☑ Commit vandalism

☑ Have a good meal

▢ Film and post a dance video

▢ Play Overwatch

▢ Go to a thrift shop and buy Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin better clothes

▢ Go on a date

▢ Write my last will and testament

▢ Say goodbye to mom and dad

▢ Take photos to leave for Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin

“You’re seriously going to waste time on Overwatch? On your last day ever?” Beomgyu complained.

Yeonjun angled his phone away from Beomgyu’s view. “It’s my bucket list. Not yours.”

“Stop fighting,” Soobin said. His eyes were rimmed with red from his non-stop crying. It made Yeonjun’s heart ache.

The three of them were in the back of a cab, heading to Yeonjun’s family home in Bundang. Though it was the last on his bucket list, it was the first thing he wanted off his chest.

He didn’t intend to tell his parents over the phone. He wasn’t even sure if he should even tell his parents at all.

Half an hour ago, Taehyun and Yeonjun agreed to not wallow over their impending death. They had individual businesses that they first had to deal with but they made plans to meet up after so the five of them could be complete.

Hueningkai stuck with Taehyun while Beomgyu and Soobin decided to accompany Yeonjun.

“I’m just saying, you could be spending your time a little wiser than losing to me and Soobin,” Beomgyu quipped.

Sighing dramatically, Yeonjun removed the goal from his list.

Before he could hit Beomgyu with another wisecrack, their ride came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, Soobin was strict on always wearing seatbelts; the safety device kept them from launching forward, though Beomgyu’s forehead did collide with the driver’s headrest.

Beomgyu howled with pain as the driver profusely apologized. “A stray cat bolted in front of us as I was pulling in to park,” the driver explained. “I didn’t notice.”

Yeonjun exhaled, one hand clutching his chest.

The three of them slid out of the backseat and onto the Seongnam sidewalk. “You alright?” Soobin asked quietly as Beomgyu went to pay for the ride.

The honest answer: Yeonjun was a little shaken.

Each step felt like there might be a minefield beneath his feet. He kept imagining a bunch of different scenarios on how it would happen, who would be there with him when it did. He didn’t want it to be any of the three boys, but they were insistent on keeping him and Taehyun company.

No one seemed like they were ready to let go.

Instead, what Yeonjun said: “Yeah, I’m good.”

Beomgyu returned, another unreadable expression on his face. “The driver wouldn’t let me pay,” he reported, shaking his head. “He eavesdropped on us a bit, I think, because he—” A pause.

The hard-to-read look suddenly became clear to Yeonjun. It was the same look of when Beomgyu polaroids came out all wrong, or when he miscalculated a toy’s position in a claw game. It was a mix of annoyance, and disappointment—and a little bit of sadness.

“He what?” Soobin prompted.

Beomgyu looked directly at Yeonjun, opening and closing his mouth as though considering how to tell him. Finally, he choked out the rest of his sentence.

“He sends his condolences.”

“The worst thing that could ever happen to a parent is to have their child leave this Earth before them.”

Those were the only words that Yeonjun committed to memory. The conversation he had with his parents was not so much a conversation as much as it was groveling, sobbing, cursing.

There was anger. There was sadness. There was all the love they could offer each other.

Though it broke his heart, Yeonjun begged his parents to let him go for the simple reason that he couldn’t bear the thought of passing away in their presence. He promised to call, if he could. He swore to have Beomgyu and Soobin at his side, at all times, to call them if he couldn’t.

Then his father told him about the worst thing that could happen—how it was already happening—, and he hugged Yeonjun with a finality that didn’t need any spoken goodbye, and Yeonjun damn near reconsidered throwing it all away to spend his final hours with them.

Holding on to his pride, he hugged his father back. He gave his mother a kiss on the forehead.

He asked that they both smile so his last image of them would be “not all that sad.”

And, just like that, the Chois let go of their only son.

The cab ride back to Hueningkai and Taehyun was a solemn one. Yeonjun was thankful that neither Beomgyu nor Soobin felt the need to speak. They had waited outside Yeonjun’s home while he was saying his goodbyes to his parents, and they had let him take the window seat where he could stare listlessly out at the highway. This is the last time I’ll see this strip of road, Yeonjun numbly thought to himself. It was tiring to think in lasts. It was all he could seem to do as the minutes ticked by.

Ping.

Hueningkai, whose Instagram account previously had zero photos, had just uploaded a photo of him posing with Taehyun. Lotte World all to ourselves!!!~ , the caption said.

“That’s new,” Beomgyu mumbled, looking at the post over Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“We saw each other practically every day for the past two years,” Soobin interjected, voice hollow. He was staring at Hueningkai’s post on his own phone. “Hyuka never saw the point in posting about us, because it wasn’t like we were going anywhere.”

The implication of Soobin’s words weighed heavy in the air. Now that two of us are dying, Hueningkai wants to capture whatever we have left.

“I’m just glad to finally be Instagram official,” Beomgyu blurted out.

Both Soobin and Yeonjun shook their head, but Yeonjun was secretly glad to have an excuse to laugh.

By the time they got to Lotte World, Hueningkai and Taehyun were already donning ridiculous animal headbands and sharing some honey butter chips.

“I got you guys headbands, too!” Hueningkai said. He pulled three out of his bag and proceeded to pass Beomgyu and Soobin theirs. Hueningkai asked Yeonjun to bend down so he could put it on himself.

“A fox?” Yeonjun asked, skeptically eyeing his reflection in a nearby shop mirror.

“Don’t you look like one?” Hueningkai shot back.

“How am I a bear?” Beomgyu whined, pinching the brown ears of his own headband.

Soobin quickly retorted, “Because you’re un-bear-able!”

It was a terrible pun but all the boys chuckled a bit nonetheless. Beomgyu yelled “Yah!”, reaching out to hit Soobin— who swiftly dodged, which meant Beomgyu’s slap landed on the small of Taehyun’s back. The chase that ensued had Soobin, Hueningkai, and Yeonjun doubling over in laughter.

“By the way,” Yeonjun mused out loud as they started strolling down the amusement park’s mostly empty avenues. “Why are we here after hours? Lotte World should be closed.”

Hueningkai’s face fell, and Yeonjun suddenly wished that he never asked.

“Lotte World is tied in with Death-cast,” Beomgyu answered instead. He and Taehyun had caught up to the rest, done with their chase. The latter looked a little out of breath; Yeonjun concernedly glanced over at him, to which Taehyun responded with a thumbs up and a gesture to keep listening to Beomgyu. “They allot their after-hours to people who might want to spend their last day here.”

Not wanting to dampen the mood any further, Yeonjun forced on a smirk. He threw an arm around Hueningkai’s shoulders and gave him a light shove forward

“Let’s make the most out of it then!” Yeonjun said resolutely. “Come on, Hyuka. We’ll go wherever you pick!”

That made Hueningkai light up like a Christmas tree. For the first time that night, Yeonjun felt like he’d done something right.

And go wherever Hueningkai picked they did. After around an hour or so, Soobin was already calling for something less exciting. “I don’t think my heart can take any more of this,” he cried dramatically.

“How about there?” Hueningkai said excitedly. Four pairs of eyes followed to see where he was pointing: A photobooth.

“Perfect,” Yeonjun said. “I’ve been meaning to take some photos.”

“Why don’t we go first, hyung?”

The other boys fell quiet when Taehyun addressed Yeonjun. Taehyun was smiling delicately, face flushed from the consecutive high-stakes rides. In one hand, he held a squirrel stuffed toy that Beomgyu had won him at a shooting game.

Taehyun looked so serene. So alive, Yeonjun thought in awe.

Yeonjun grinned back at his friend. “I’d like that.”

The two slid into the booth as Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin looked at costumes for themselves.

“This is part of my bucket list,” Yeonjun shared as he started loading the coins into its slot. “I wanted to give them photos of us, for them to remember.”

“That’s smart,” Taehyun responded. “We won’t have enough photos of each other to go by.”

Yeonjun swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look directly at Taehyun. Outside the booth, they could hear the sounds of Hueningkai and Soobin arguing over a plastic mustache.

If they tried really hard, they could pretend that it was just like any other day—and shouldn’t it be like that anyway, Yeonjun contemplated. He debated about asking Taehyun whether he thought this was for the best; knowing they’d pass within 24 hours.

As if sensing Yeonjun’s internal conflict, Taehyun reached out to push the last few coins into their slot. The photobooth roared to life, a woman’s voice welcoming them and instructing them on what to click next. Neither of the two tapped on anything on the screen.

But then Taehyun shrugged. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Let’s leave them with good-looking photos of us.”

Before the two could pose properly, though, Beomgyu burst through the curtains of the photo booth. “Cheese!” he screeched, throwing himself over Taehyun and Yeonjun’s legs.

“Hey!” Yeonjun protested, trying to shove Beomgyu off his lap. Meanwhile, Taehyun started giggling and making room for Beomgyu on the bench.

Click. Click. Click.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Yeonjun groaned as the photo strips printed out. In the first two photos, he and Taehyun looked fine; the remaining four were extremely chaotic with Beomgyu’s unexpected entrance.

“You look best here, don’t you think?” Beomgyu said innocently, pointing out the picture where Yeonjun was mid-yell. The older boy raised his hand as if to smack Beomgyu, who promptly ducked behind Hueningkai for protection.

“We can take more,” Taehyun assured. Despite his tousled hair and the beads of sweat trailing down his face, he shone brighter than he ever had. There was a reassuring smile on his face, one that had found comfort in an inevitable fate.

When all is said and done, that is how Yeonjun chooses to remember Taehyun; the healthy, happy Taehyun of this moment.

Yeonjun doesn’t know that yet, of course. Not while it’s happening. “I want one with our baby Hyuka,” he announced, reaching out for the youngest of their group.

“I’ll get some with Soobin and Beomgyu then,” Taehyun responded.

They took photos with each other and of each other. Taehyun and Yeonjun eventually got their own photo strip without Beomgyu interrupting. The five of them had at least seven different sets together until they’d run through each prop the booth had to offer, and they’d played with every single filter available.

Hueningkai held on to the photo strips as if they were important documents. As they went out to grab some snacks at one of the nearby food stalls, Yeonjun followed Hueningkai wandering over to a corner.

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked.

The blonde boy had laid out all the photos and was attempting to take a picture of them. “Oh, I was making a post on my Instagram account,” he admitted, sounding a bit shy of the fact.

“I saw you posted for the first time earlier.”

“Yeah, I never had a reason to use my account before. I guess I just... want to document today. I don’t want to forget anything.”

The slight quiver in his voice damn near made Yeonjun cry. Reeling in his emotions, Yeonjun moved around some of the photo strips. “Here,” he said. “I think it looks better like that.”

Smiling appreciatively, Hueningkai snapped his picture.

“What should I caption it?”

They both paused, contemplating.

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Hueningkai said excitedly, typing away at his phone. Yeonjun peered over his shoulder to check.

“‘Five forever,’” Yeonjun read out loud.

“Five forever,” Hueningkai repeated resolutely, looking straight at Yeonjun. “No matter what.”

If he had a choice, Yeonjun would have gone out dancing.

Dance was one of the few constants in his life. It was something Yeonjun whole-heartedly knew that he was good at. He meant to be an instructor, even, had the Death-cast call never happened.

His peers constantly joked that he was in the running to take over their studio’s director role. Guess they were wrong, Yeonjun bitterly thought to himself as he intently scrolled through his phone for a song.

His final dance break song.

The boys had set out after Lotte World to go clothes shopping when Yeonjun remembered one of the other to-dos on his list. Film and post a dance video. They took a detour to the nearest park and loitered a bit, and Yeonjun was reckoned with the most difficult decision of his dancing career.

All this time, he refused to upload any clips of him dancing. Sure, there were some up on the Internet; group dances from the studio, an Instagram story here and there from his friends. But Yeonjun had never uploaded one himself— never quite ready for that kind of self-exposure.

Now or never, he decided.

“You did Watermelon Sugar earlier today, didn’t you?” Soobin asked as he curiously peered over Yeonjun’s shoulder to check the song options. “The remix with Blow. Why don’t you just redo that?”

“I want to do something new. Something original,” Yeonjun responded distractedly. FEVER? Paper Hearts? “But all of these, I’ve already danced to.”

“What about one of ours?” Beomgyu offered, yawning and stretching absentmindedly.

Yeonjun stopped scrolling.

Taehyun, from a bench away, let out a groan. “You know the demos we make aren’t serious,” he complained. “And don’t you have an ounce of shame, Gyu? Those songs were kind of—”

“Don’t you dare call them bad!” Beomgyu interrupted defensively. “Our songs could have made it big if you weren’t so keen on locking them up!”

“Upload it once I’m gone, then,” Taehyun deadpanned. “Call that shit posthumous.”

As Beomgyu flinched and Hueningkai rained a few punches down Taehyun’s back, Yeonjun sped through their group chat to find the recording of their latest arrangement. They’d composed only around half of it, promising each other that they would continue the rest on their next first Friday.

The rock instrumentals of their demo LOSER=LOVER struck up and echoed across the empty park. Soobin’s singing came out loud and clear through Yeonjun’s phone speakers.

“I’m a loser, I’m a loser,” Soobin crooned along with the audio. In the background, Taehyun covered his ears and Beomgyu perked up, ready to steal Yeonjun’s parts in the song.

Had it been any other day, Yeonjun would have rolled his eyes at the younger boy, but his mind was busy putting together the pieces of a possible dance routine. Usually, it took him days to come up with one that he was content with. He didn’t have that much time tonight.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Yeonjun announced after one full listen of the unfinished track. He stood and positioned himself between the row of blooming dogwood trees, trying to shake out the lingering uneasiness.

“I can film you!” Hueningkai cried out excitedly, standing across Yeonjun as the latter did some light stretching. Yeonjun shot him an appreciative thumbs up.

Inhale. They’d all seen him dance before; he could just never fully shake his nervousness. The others seemed to pick up on this, quickly giving Yeonjun small forms of affirmation.

Beomgyu let out encouraging hoots and chanted Yeonjun’s name. Taehyun finally lowered his hands from his ears, smiling assuredly in anticipation of the routine. And Soobin pulled out his own phone, finger poised expectantly over his record button.

Exhale.

Yeonjun hit play, and immediately found himself consumed by the music.

It was like second nature to him. Every agile step, every sharp turn. He followed along to the song as if it were something he’d practiced his whole life. Each beat reverberated to his very bone, filling his chest with so much joy he felt like a balloon that just might burst.

“Here comes the good stuff!” Beomgyu squealed as Taehyun started humming along. Love you, love you, love you; no matter what I do.

“I say run, laugh like you’ve gone mad, ” Hueningkai belted out. Yeonjun almost missed a step because of how it distracted him, but he was glad to have small disturbances such as Beomgyu trying to mimic his dance moves or Taehyun finally screaming the lyrics out loud as well.

The post-chorus was his and Beomgyu’s part. It was the easiest choreography to think of, too. I’m a loser, his pre-recorded self sang, and the Yeonjun dancing threw up an L with his pointer finger and thumb. He broke out into a smile, feeling as if the world were spinning.

It’s the sensation he’ll miss the most. The heat, the soreness. Even then, he knows that his body will ache most for the rush he had come to adore.

The song ended abruptly, and Yeonjun snapped out of his trance.

The boys were all clapping and cheering. “I can’t believe you did all that in one go,” Taehyun complimented as Beomgyu and Hueningkai surged forward to envelope Yeonjun in a hug.

“I’m sweaty!” the oldest boy complained laughingly, allowing them to embrace him nonetheless.

“I have the fan cam version!” Soobin joked, holding up his phone. “Where do you want it?”

Grinning widely over Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s shoulders, Yeonjun told Soobin, “Everywhere.”

If there was anything Beomgyu and Yeonjun so intimately shared, it would be their terrific sense of fashion— something the rest of the boys were so painfully ignorant about.

So when Yeonjun had to choose someone to accompany him to the 24/7 Myeongdeong thrift shops— Taehyun complained that he was tired and wanted to go back to his dorm— the answer was as clear as day. Beomgyu and Yeonjun promised to regroup with them back at Taehyun’s within an hour.

It was a comforting shopping spree, actually. Beomgyu must have toned down his energy, only hitting Yeonjun with the occasional wisecrack compared to the typical several jokes per minute. Briefly, Yeonjun worried that he was being pitied.

“This would look good on Hyuka,” Beomgyu commented, holding up a light gray sweatshirt for Yeonjun to see. The two were in their last store. They already had eco bags crammed to the brim with clothes, but they’d decided to do a final stop before heading home.

“I was thinking about this one for Soobin,” Yeonjun said in turn, showing off a black and yellow embroidered vest.

“That one’s nice.”

“I think Hyuka would fit comfortably in that panel shirt over there, too.”

After snagging a couple more overrun Ralph Lauren pieces and three pairs of specs for Soobin, the two fell in line for checkout. “I can’t believe we didn’t do this more often,” Beomgyu hummed, rustling through the picks. “Shopping with Soobin was so boring. He only ever wanted to go to the department store.”

“I gave up on Hyuka, too,” Yeonjun laughed. He was excited to see Hueningkai’s expression; a lot of the clothes they’d picked for him were sure to fit his style. “This should be enough to last them for a little while.”

“And then they’ll go back to their plain clothes?”

“And then you’ll buy them more.”

A long pause followed Yeonjun’s words.

Though he had packaged it as a joke, they both knew the underlying message lurking under the lighthearted tone. You’ll take care of them, right? Yeonjun was asking.

Beomgyu pursed his lips together and nodded, answering the unspoken question. I will.

Yeonjun gave him an appreciative smile. I knew I could count on you.

“What else do you have on your bucket list, anyway?” Beomgyu asked in an effort to change the topic. They shuffled forward awkwardly, the line in front of them moving along rather slow.

“Just some serious stuff left, really,” Yeonjun replied vaguely. To write his last will and testament was still left unchecked. He wasn’t sure how or when he’d do it; sitting down and accepting his fate like that was a terrifying ordeal. “There is one that’s pretty tame, but I’m thinking of just crossing it out completely.”

“Which?”

“To go on a date.” Yeonjun laughed at the thought of it. It seemed so trivial now.

He’d put it down because he hadn’t really had the time to go on a proper date. Though his mother tried setting him up with her neighbors’ daughters— and even though Soobin offered a double date every now and then— Yeonjun found that he was always too busy, too disinterested, too insecure.

A small part of him wished he’d said yes to at least one of them so he could have a memory at a cafe or a cinema. But he was so caught up in thinking that he had so much more time than he actually did, and he thought his first date would be something special— only to have it not happen at all.

Nothing good comes to those who wait, he thought woefully.

Beomgyu whipped out his phone and clicked on an app. Leaning over to peek, Yeonjun saw that it was for dating. He knew that Beomgyu and Soobin had profiles. He just couldn’t be bothered to get one, too. Putting himself out there like that felt scary.

“This is a great way to find a date, even if you’re in a bit of a clutch,” Beomgyu chirped. “I’ve used it before when I needed someone to go with me to a wedding or a school fair.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know right? Anyway— we’re not here to talk about the obvious.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but Beomgyu barreled on. “Let’s make you a profile.”

“I don’t know…” Yeonjun started hesitantly. Beomgyu was quick to interject.

“What are you scared of?” he challenged. “What do you have to lose, really?”

Yesterday, Yeonjun might have answered his dignity or his pride. In the thrift shop, though, he begrudgingly had to admit that Beomgyu was right. He had nothing to lose.

“Sign me up,” Yeonjun conceded, and Beomgyu broke out into a proud grin.

After arguing over which photos of Yeonjun to choose, Beomgyu typed out a prospective bio to go on his profile. Urgent: Dying boy seeking a mind-blowing date that will let him go out with a bang.

“You make it sound so dirty,” Yeonjun groaned, grabbing the phone from Beomgyu and deleting the entire text.

As the latter protested, Yeonjun tried his hand at a bio. Less than 24 hours left and looking for love. Be my baby before burying me six feet under?

“How pessimistic!” Beomgyu cried disapprovingly, though both of them were shaking with laughter. For a short while, they took turns writing terrible descriptions.

Beomgyu typed out Let’s kill this love, to which Yeonjun added ‘Till (my) death do we part.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Beomgyu concluded as he gasped for air. “Come on, we’re not even in the actual app yet.”

The next screen asked for Yeonjun’s dating preference.

Beomgyu tapped on the ‘Women’ button, showing it to Yeonjun for approval.

Riding on their shared joy and his newfound confidence, Yeonjun mindlessly blurted out, “Can you actually choose ‘Both’?”

In our life, we often experience “oh” moments. Modest points in time where so many things can shift in a split second. For both Beomgyu and Yeonjun— in that thrift shop line, with their sore arms carrying more clothes that either of them could ever need— that was one of those junctures for the two of them.

“Oh,” Beomgyu said, and it occurred to Yeonjun, suddenly. What he’d asked for.

Fear went off in Yeonjun’s brain like a screeching, bright red fire alarm. He wanted to take it back. He could say it was a joke.

But there was something in Beomgyu’s face— an expression that wasn’t of judgment or disgust. There was a gentle hopefulness to the way he looked at Yeonjun then. He looked so painfully reassuring, so ready to accept whatever Yeonjun wanted to do, wanted to be.

So how could Yeonjun lie to him?

“Yeah,” Yeonjun choked out, clenching his jaw nervously.

“I never knew,” Beomgyu mumbled before switching the options. Then, quickly, he added: “Me, too. I mean—I chose ‘Both’, too. I’m… I am, too.”

It was Yeonjun’s turn to say “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu chuckled. “I guess you never know, huh?”

Yeonjun nodded wordlessly, hoping that Beomgyu wouldn’t prod any further. Thankfully, the cashier finally called them to the front.

As Yeonjun unloaded the clothes they’d shopped, Beomgyu gestured that he’d do it. He shoved his phone at Yeonjun and pushed him to one side.

“If you want a date, you should get busy swiping,” Beomgyu said, beaming with amusement as he geared up for his punch line. “Let them know you’re dead serious.”

Hueningkai, Soobin, and Taehyun were watching something on Netflix by the time Beomgyu and Yeonjun got back.

The three were settled comfortably on the couch, sharing several opened bags of junk food and two bottles of cider. “Is that Squid Game? You’re watching without me?!” Beomgyu whined, trying to grab the remote from Soobin.

“I’m dying. I think I deserve to know what happens in episode six,” Taehyun said blankly before popping a chip in his mouth. Beomgyu pretended not to hear him, still scuffling with an indignant Soobin who was trying hard not to tear his gaze away from the screen. Meanwhile, Hueningkai greeted Yeonjun and helped him carry the bags into the room.

“Oh, this is so soft!” Hueningkai cried, zeroing out on the sweatshirt from earlier.

“Beomgyu picked that out for you,” Yeonjun said proudly.

“Thank you, Gyu!”

With Beomgyu successfully pausing the show, Soobin leaned over to inspect the pile of clothes that Hueningkai had toppled over. “This is a lot,” he said in awe.

“Please, this is barely half of what Yeonjun and I have,” Beomgyu scoffed.

As Taehyun ducked out to go to the bathroom, the boys sorted through the articles of clothing. Hueningkai and Soobin were incredibly enthusiastic, building each other’s pile of new clothes; mixing and matching some on the spot. While Beomgyu was criticizing their pairings, Yeonjun once again noticed a gap in their group.

A space that was left unfilled.

Yeonjun excused himself and stumbled over the clothes, towards the bathroom. It was unlocked. He peeked inside and found it empty. Something in his stomach sank at the sight of minuscule blood droplets on the toilet lid. How had no one noticed Taehyun slipping away?

Suddenly hyperaware, Yeonjun heard the distant, muted click of the front door closing.

Why was Taehyun trying to slip away?

Telling the rest that they were going on a quick 7-Eleven run— and swearing to the other boys that they’d both come back in one piece—Yeonjun grabbed his windbreaker and rushed out to follow Taehyun. It didn’t take much to find him. He was hanging out at the bus stop nearest his dorm, a city map in his hands.

Taehyun didn’t look surprised to see Yeonjun jogging up to him.

“Of course you’d notice,” Taehyun said once Yeonjun had reached him. “Do the others know?”

“We’re at 7-Eleven,” Yeonjun responded stiffly. The other boy cocked his head to one side as if assessing the lie.

“Believable. You should grab some bread for Soobin on your way back.”

“On our way back.”

“I’m not going back there, and you know it.”

Cold, callous, and calculating. Those were the typical words one would use to describe Taehyun. In their group, Taehyun was the most stable and reliable; he managed Beomgyu’s erratic moods and always looked out for Hueningkai.

It was easy to forget that he was on the younger end, considering how mature he always presented himself to be.

None of that maturity seemed to shine through in that very bus stop. Yeonjun saw Taehyun for what he was: A teenage boy counting his minutes left.

“Why not?” Yeonjun asked. He was firmly rooted to his spot. As much as Taehyun looked like he wanted to be alone, Yeonjun just couldn’t cut him some slack. “Come on, Taehyun. Come home with me.”

“I’m sick, hyung. I’ve been for a while now,” Taehyun said with a sad, sad. “You’ve noticed, right?”

Yeonjun had noticed. He’d taken trips to the drug store to buy Taehyun some painkillers. He’d cooked him soup for comfort. He’d even insisted that they should go to the hospital and check it out, but Taehyun was dead set on riding out what they thought to be a run-of-the-mill flu.

“I finally got it checked this morning. My sister brought me. No one could figure out a proper diagnosis, but right after our appointment—” Taehyun faltered. He met Yeonjun’s eyes. “The damn Death-cast call is so scripted, isn’t it?”

Yeonjun slumped down onto the vacant seat next to Taehyun.

“Anyway, I told my family over lunch,” Taehyun went on. “I wasn’t planning on letting the boys know—I just wanted to have a nice dinner and call it a day—but you…”

“How did you know before I told you? You looked like you already had a feeling.”

“I’ve always been the smartest one,” Taehyun retorted. Yeonjun wouldn’t have contested him either way.

Humoring Yeonjun, Taehyun folded his hands over his lap and smirked ever so slightly. “We both balked at Hueningkai saying that the pizza was ‘to die for’,” he said. “I don’t think you would have reacted that way were it any other day. For you to react to something as offhanded as that, you must be worried about dying.”

“Why aren’t you saying goodbye?” Yeonjun asked abruptly, the words tumbling over each other as his curiosity got the best of him. Taehyun winced in the slightest.

Taehyun didn’t owe Yeonjun an explanation, but Yeonjun couldn’t think straight. If he could, he would keep Taehyun by his side for the rest of their 24 hours. It was cruel to admit that Yeonjun didn’t want to be the one left living.

“I want to die alone,” Taehyun said decisively after a pause.

“Where no one I love will have to find me. My family thinks I’m with you. And you,” he looked straight at Yeonjun. “Will let the boys think that I’m with my family.”

Yeonjun recoiled as if he’d been punched. “You want me to lie to them?”

“Consider it my dying wish.”

“Taehyun!”

“Yeonjun.” The missing honorific made them both falter a bit. Taehyun took the edge out of his tone for his next words.

“I won’t be in the middle of nowhere. There’s a wing at the Seoul National Hospital for people who have been called. They make the funeral preparations and when you— when you’re— they let your legal guardian know. My sister knows, so she’s ready to pick me up.”

“I don’t want any of you to see me lose any more of my strength than I already have,” Taehyun went on steadily. “Let them remember the Taehyun who went to Lotte World with them. The Taehyun who tried his best not to spoil Squid Game. Let that be who I am. Not the Taeyun who’s coughing up blood.” For added effect, Taehyun reached out to clasp Yeonjun’s hands. He clung tightly, even as Yeonjun tried to pull away. “You’ll do that for me. Won’t you, hyung?” Taehyun pleaded, voice cracking. “You’ll let me have this.”

“You are cruel, Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun responded through gritted teeth. “You are heartless and insensitive, and I will never forgive you.”

In turn, Taehyun gave him a gentle smile. The bus was rolling up to the stop. There’s no one here for you, Yeonjun wanted to yell at the driver. You’re not going to take him from me.

“There are letters on the bedside table,” he said. “I’ve left my phone at home, too, because when they start calling, I’ll want to answer— and it will take everything in me not to.”

Taehyun released his grip on Yeonjun. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll never be sorry enough.”

“If you’re really sorry, you wouldn’t be leaving,” Yeonjun seethed. He knew that he sounded hopeless and whiny, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he was hurting.

Taehyun flinched at his words; Yeonjun didn’t take them back. He trusted that Taehyun knew the depth of his distress and why this was so difficult for him.

It was a sorrow so deep that Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to hug Taehyun back as the latter mumbled his goodbyes.

At his own death, Yeonjun will think of that moment. It will be his one regret.

Taehyun boarded the night bus that would shuttle him to Seoul National Hospital. Contrary to Yeonjun’s belief, Taehyun was oblivious to Yeonjun’s pain of mourning someone who was still alive.

The younger boy sat with his heavy heart, wondering if he was making the smart— no, the right— choice.

The bus pulled away from the stop and Taehyun glanced at Yeonjun through the window’s reflection. Slumped in defeat, his friend remained motionless before standing. Taehyun expected Yeonjun to head back to his dorm.

But then Yeonjun hit the ground running.

He darted down the sidewalk, following the bus’s route. Taehyun sat up. Palm against the window, he watched Yeonjun sprint past pedestrians and haphazardly slide down the pavement.

“That boy’s crazy,” the bus driver commented offhandedly.

It was a scene straight out of a television drama, and it made Taehyun laugh in spite of himself. Thankfully, Yeonjun’s chase was cut short as the bus stopped at a red light. To Taehyun’s absolute horror, the older boy started banging his fists against the bus’s sliding doors.

“Hey, stop that!” the bus driver yelled. “I’ll call the police on you, you psycho!”

Yeonjun kept knocking, demanding entry. “I just need one minute! Please, just give me one minute!”

“Get the fuck away from this bus right now, kid!”

Unnerved, Yeonjun took a step back and did a quick scan of the bus until his eyes met Taehyun’s.

Without missing a beat, the older boy hollered loud enough that Taehyun could hear his sincerity through the glass: “I forgive you, Kang Taehyun! I forgive you!”

The stoplight turned green and the bus quickly pulled away from the intersection, leaving Yeonjun standing dejected on the street. As the bus driver cursed him and the other commuters whispered among themselves, Taehyun buried his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his face.

He was stupidly relieved to finally be alone. Later, when they give him a room to pass away in, he will assure the attending nurse that he has made peace with his fate. But in the bus where there are nothing but strangers, where no one knows who Taehyun is, he allows himself the grace of fearing death.

And for the first time in a long time— for the last time in his young life— Kang Taehyun let himself cry.

As Yeonjun expected, the boys weren’t happy with the lie of Taehyun heading back home.

They weren’t angry. None of them could seem to be mad at the dying boy.

Hueningkai was upset, constantly ringing Taehyun’s cell; Yeonjun itched to tell him that it was futile. Soobin buried his head in his hands, the forgotten episode of Squid Game playing on in the background.

“The last thing I said to him was that I hated him for watching without me,” Beomgyu said. His empty gaze was trained towards the television. “I’m never going to be able to take that back.”

“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it,” Yeonjun said. He thought of his last image of Taehyun; hand to the window, jaw slack with shock. “This is what he wanted.”

Hueningkai collapsed onto the couch after his nth phone call went unanswered. No one could look at each other, so they quietly sat through the duration of the show’s episode.

The sounds of Soobin’s sniffles echoed in the small room, overlapping with Taehyun’s voicemail recording.

Hello, this is Kang Taehyun. I can’t answer your call right now. Leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

“He left letters,” Yeonjun announced as Squid Game ’s credits rolled. “They’re in his room.”

No one responded. It was as if Yeonjun hadn’t spoken at all.

“I’m going to go read mine. You can come with me if you want.”

Neither Beomgyu, Hueningkai, nor Soobin moved an inch.

Standing so suddenly that he knocked into the coffee table, Yeonjun let out a hiss before glancing at his remaining friends. They refused to meet his eyes. He wished he could do something for them, but he was honestly just as broken and betrayed.

“Suit yourself,” he said wretchedly, not meaning to have so much venom in his tone. He stalked into Taehyun’s room and made it a point to slam the door close behind him.

It took Yeonjun a moment to realize that Taehyun had prepared for this. Most of the room was bare, save for a few cardboard boxes in one corner.

When Yeonjun took a peek, he realized that Taehyun had packed away everything; his camera, his posters, his clothes. All that was left was his mattress, where four envelopes were neatly laid out in a row.

“You’re not actually going to read your letter.”

Yeonjun didn’t jump at the sudden intrusion. Beomgyu wasn’t asking a question, either; he was stating a fact.

“No, I’m not,” Yeonjun admitted, staring at the precise handwriting that lined the outside of the named letters. “Not yet.”

“Okay. Well, I will.”

To Yeonjun’s shock, Beomgyu stepped past him and snatched the paper that had his name. He ripped open the envelope and got to reading. Cautiously, Yeonjun watched Beomgyu.

Slowly, Beomgyu’s shoulders dropped. When he bent his head, Yeonjun realized what was happening.

Beomgyu’s sobs were quiet— unassuming and wounded. The grief washed over the two of them like waves. Yeonjun did not know how to keep his head above the water.

“He loved us, right?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, turning to face Yeonjun. “Even if he left. He loved us.”

“He did.”

“And he knows I never hated him. He had to have known that.”

“He did.”

With the back of his fist, Beomgyu forcefully wiped the tears out of his eyes. Yeonjun is struck by how young he looks; by how young they all are, to have to deal with all this.

“I should have been nicer to him,” Beomgyu said. He glanced down at the letter before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Then maybe... “

“It wouldn’t have changed his mind,” Yeonjun said quietly. Then, because he didn’t know what else to say, he simply repeated himself from earlier that night: “This is what he wanted.”

Beomgyu didn’t point it out, anyway. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes, seemingly letting the worst of the news hit him. Yeonjun knew he ought to have done something then— maybe reached out and hugged the younger boy— but he was too lost in his own misery to realize that Beomgyu’s heartbreak ran deeper, if only because Taehyun’s affections for him were different. The letter gave away as much.

Like a switch that had been flipped, Beomgyu forced himself to speak in a lighter tone. “You’ve still got a few things on your bucket list, right? Why don’t we get them done?”

“I hardly think that a date is appropriate right no—”

“‘This is what he wanted,’” Beomgyu parroted, mimicking even Yeonjun’s intonation. “I’m sure Taehyun would hate to see you moping.”

Yeonjun shook his head, too tired to argue. “I haven’t matched with anyone on the app. And besides, I can’t imagine going out with a stranger who will have no idea what I’m going through.”

“Then go out with me.”

The shocked silence that followed stretched between the two of them, filling every corner of the room.

Yeonjun was taken back to the compliment he paid Beomgyu earlier that night. I’ve always loved how shameless you can be. The thin line between brashness and bravery blurred at that moment as Yeonjun gawked at Beomgyu, who refused to falter.

“I won’t ask why you seem sad or what your thoughts are on death,” Beomgyu insisted. “We’ll grab a coffee. Share a bingsu. And I’ll pretend not to know much about you so I can ask you what your blood type is, then I’ll lie that we’re compatible.”

“That’s a thing?” Yeonjun asked dumbly.

Beomgyu gave the older boy a watery smile. “Anything for a second date. But since we can only have one, I promise to cram in everything you’ve been missing out on. I’ll even fight for the bill.”

“Why?”

“Why would I fight for the bill?”

“No, no. Why are you— Why are you doing this?”

Beomgyu’s hesitation was fleeting. Yeonjun caught it nonetheless. If he had only been a little more observant, he might have noticed the blush tinging Beomgyu’s ear or the tremor in his twitching fingers.

“Because it’s on your bucket list,” Beomgyu said. “Taehyun finished his. You should get to clear yours, too.”

There was no way for Yeonjun to know if Beomgyu was lying. Taehyun had kept his bucket list mostly a secret, though he had assured Yeonjun at some point that it was ‘short and sweet’. It was likely that he had divulged in Beomgyu, and Yeonjun wasn’t in the business of doubting such a simple fact.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a little more to Beomgyu’s offer. Yeonjun reflected if the proposition would have still come up had their thrift shop conversation not happened.

But Beomgyu was never insincere, and Yeonjun wanted to give him a tender memory that only the two of them shared.

And so Yeonjun said yes. When Beomgyu tried his hardest not to smile too widely, the older boy forced himself to quiet the fluttering in his chest.

This was not part of the plan. Vaguely, he felt like he was making a mistake.

How could he be, though, he thought, as Beomgyu beamed and blabbered about where they should go?

How could such a good thing be wrong?

It happened like this.

The two agreed on a nearby breakfast cafe. Yeonjun had avoided counting down, but it was difficult to miss the fact that the sun had already risen. That meant he had only a few more hours before his 24 were up.

Yeonjun got to the cafe first because Beomgyu said he’d stop by somewhere with Hueningkai. Soobin was initially reluctant, finally letting them go and succumbing to the fact that he was emotionally spent. When Yeonjun left Taehyun’s dorm, Soobin was napping on the couch.

Yeonjun made it a point to tuck a blanket around him.

Bored out of his mind, Yeonjun was carving Taehyun’s initials into the wooden table when it happened.

And it happened so fast.

He heard Beomgyu calling his name. He looked up to see the younger boy holding a bouquet of tulips.

There was a sweet smile on his face and a spring in his step as he locked eyes with Yeonjun and skipped down the pedestrian lane. It touched Yeonjun, that Beomgyu had gone out of his way to buy him blue and purple tulips; his favorite flowers in his favorite color.

A grin was tugging at Yeonjun’s lips when the speeding car slammed mercilessly into Beomgyu’s frame.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re dying. Yeonjun had always wanted to know what his highlight reel would look like. He had never thought that you could imagine someone else’s life while they were dying.

Vision blurring with panic as he rushed to Beomgyu’s side, Yeonjun found himself flooded with flashbulb moments of Beomgyu.

The first time he’d lost a game to him. Their arguments over mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beomgyu coining the term ‘hiccup’ for the trip-ups on Yeonjun’s Good Days, after Hueningkai had accidentally cleaned out his hard drive while downloading anime.

This was the worst hiccup that could possibly happen, Yeonjun thought as he dropped to his knees.

Beomgyu looked dazed, lying motionless on the pavement. As Yeonjun scooped him up, the younger boy looked up at him with a bleary expression, seeming more confused than hurt.

“Hey,” Beomgyu croaked. “I think I got hit.”

“Hey,” Yeonjun responded, trying his best not to sound too hysterical lest he scare Beomgyu. “You’re fine, though. You’re fine.”

The driver of the car stepped out of his vehicle, looking horrified. One side of Yeonjun filled with a searing, murderous rage. He was about to stand and swing at the stranger until Beomgyu started coughing vigorously.

“Call a hospital! Now!” Yeonjun bellowed at the driver. His voice cracked with desperation. “He’s not supposed to die today. He’s not supposed to die!”

“Hyung—” Beomgyu tried to say, failing to finish his sentence as he spat up more blood.

Cradling Beomgyu’s head in his lap, Yeonjun clung onto his friend tightly. “I don’t understand,” he stuttered. “I don’t—I can’t—”

Beomgyu was mumbling something incoherent. Yeonjun leaned in closer, catching Beomgyu’s repeating words: “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, idiot?” Yeonjun whimpered. “You can’t die. You’re not going to die. You haven’t been called yet, Beomgyu.”

It’s in that earth-shattering moment— as Beomgyu wasted his breath apologizing, struggling to keep his eyes open but trying his best to look straight at Yeonjun anyway— it’s then that it dawned on Yeonjun.

Beomgyu had known about Lotte World and Death-cast. Beomgyu had tried his best to squeeze into all of Taehyun and Yeonjun’s photos. And Beomgyu at the restaurant fronting had echoed the script Yeonjun heard in the studio’s locker room.

Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?

“You haven’t been called yet,” Yeonjun repeated. He knew he was in denial at this point, but this was the worst possible thing that could happen to him. “Come on. Tell me you haven’t been called.”

Instead of doing as he was asked, Beomgyu reached out to hold Yeonjun’s face.

The slightest movement seemed to take so much of his remaining energy, yet he persisted despite Yeonjun’s protests. Delicately, Beomgyu cupped Yeonjun’s cheek with one of his hands.

“I didn’t want anyone worrying over me,” he admitted softly. It broke Yeonjun, how uncharacteristically frail Beomgyu sounded. “I thought death would be a little easier on me.”

Yeonjun wailed, doubling over to bury his face in Beomgyu’s shoulder. The sharp smell of smoke and blood hit him hard. “Damn you, Beomgyu. We wasted all your time doing things that Taehyun wanted— that I wanted—”

Beomgyu laughed and winced immediately right after.

“All I ever wanted to do was to be with you four,” Beomgyu said, and Yeonjun started crying so hard that he was sure this would be the cause of his own death— the way the sobs wracked his frame, the pure fear that struck his heart.

Beomgyu’s voice was barely above a whisper as he went on. “I’m sorry you never got to go on your date, hyung,” he mumbled, gesturing weakly at the bouquet he had been carrying.

Save for a petal or two, the tulips had miraculously survived the impact. Red spots stained the kraft wrapping paper. “I like to think I would have been a good one,” Beomgyu breathed.

“You would have been the best,” Yeonjun said fiercely. Beomgyu smiled contentedly.

“I know you’re just saying that, but I’ll take it,” he responded. His eyes fluttered to a close and the pained expression on his face softened. For a heartbeat, Yeonjun was scared that he’d lost him.

Thankfully, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, his unfocused gaze trying to find Yeonjun’s own.

“Hey, don’t give up on me now,” Yeonjun begged. He closed his fingers around Beomgyu’s shoulder, pulling the younger boy closer to his chest.

They could both hear the distant sounds of an ambulance siren. “We’ve still got a lot to do. Hyuka and Soobin are still waiting for you.”

“Hyuka and Soobin…” Beomgyu repeated slowly. “Tell them I love them, won’t you?”

“Tell them yourself.”

“I’m sorry I can’t buy them more clothes.”

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.”

“And I’m sorry to be leaving you, hyung.”

Yeonjun let out a broken sob. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t,” he said. “Stop apologizing, because we’re going to get you to a hospital and patch you up, and we’re going to go on the best date, and you’re going to live many happy years—”

“Do you want to hear something selfish?” Beomgyu interrupted. The ambulance was rounding the corner. “This whole time, I prayed to go before you.”

“Why?” Yeonjun asked wretchedly.

The ambulance parked and the driver ran to meet them. “I can’t imagine a world without you, Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said with bated breath. Yeonjun wondered why he’d never noticed it before; the devotion in Beomgyu’s tone, the star-like shine in his eyes. “And I’m glad that I won’t have to.”

As the paramedics rolled out a stretcher— as Yeonjun kept insisting that he could still be saved— Beomgyu thought nothing of the blinding hurt ripping through his body. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in the fact that he was in the arms of someone he loved. Not everyone could say they were half as lucky, he decided.

Throughout the night, he was curious what his last words would be; if he would have a choice at all. He had wanted it to be something cool, something awesome. But as he clung to Yeonjun, he knew that there was only one last thing to say.

Grinning, he wiped away some tears from Yeonjun’s panicked expression.

The paramedics were already swooping in and grabbing his ruptured body away from Yeonjun, but the older boy was still hanging on to him as if his own life depended on it. Beomgyu tried to commit the scene to memory.

Yeonjun, with his wild expression and tousled hair; his lips quivering, his eyes full of fear. It pained Beomgyu to leave him like this. Greedily, it relieved him that he would be the one going first.

“Take all the time you need,” Beomgyu assured, giving Yeonjun’s hand a final squeeze.

Beomgyu managed the ghost of a smile. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” he said.

Then he shut his eyes— and nothing much was left after that.

It turned out that Choi Beomgyu did get to choose his last words after all.

Yeonjun was the one who made the calls. He let Beomgyu’s parents know, then his brothers.

He called Soobin, who didn’t answer; he called Hueningkai, who picked up on the first ring.

Hueningkai and Soobin made it to the hospital within ten minutes of the call ending.

Disoriented, they all listened to a doctor rattle on about comas and chances. “This means he’ll get better, right?” Hueningkai asked no one in particular once the discussion was over. “He hasn’t been called, so he’ll wake up soon enough.”

The two older boys shared a look. Yeonjun shook his head, and Soobin squeezed his eyes shut. Hueningkai watched the brief interaction unfold, stumped by what he was missing out on.

“Beomgyu didn’t get called by Death-cast,” Hueningkai repeated louder, as if his first statement was simply too quiet to be true. “He’s going to wake up from his coma.”

At a loss for words, Yeonjun reached out to hug Hueningkai. Soobin followed in suit. The youngest tried to squirm of their grip, not wanting to accept the implications of their remorse. “Let go of me. Don’t act like— don’t make me think that he— you’re both being—”

Eventually, Hueningkai stopped fighting.

For a moment, he stayed completely still as Soobin and Yeonjun held on to him. The trio stood there in the middle of the hospital hallway, huddled together while bawling over a betrayal that only they could share.

For Yeonjun, it felt like the world was closing in on him. He was spared by the harsh comfort of Hueningkai and Soobin feeling the same emptying loss.

After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled over to one of the waiting room benches so they could regain some strength.

“Did you know?” Soobin asked, voice hollow.

Yeonjun shook his head. His throat felt raw from all the crying. He couldn’t imagine speaking without wavering.

Instead, he turned to Hueningkai, who was staring at a photograph. It was his latest Instagram post from an hour or so ago— a shot of the flower shop he and Beomgyu had visited. The bouquet Beomgyu had bought lay a few seats away from the trio.

“You should make a post here, too,” Yeonjun said suddenly. Hueningkai looked up at him skeptically. He had a right to be dubious; updating one’s Instagram didn’t seem like it ought to be a priority.

But Yeonjun wanted to honor Beomgyu somehow, wanted to immortalize him somewhere.

“You have to remember,” Yeonjun insisted. “Even the bad things.”

The rest of the sentence lingered between the two of them. Because soon enough, I won’t be around to remember any of it.

“Even the bad things,” Hueningkai repeated.

He took a picture of the hallway. As he typed a caption with shaky fingers, Yeonjun rested his head on his shoulder, and Soobin held Yeonjun’s hand.

They drew from each other what little strength they could share.

They had no other choice.

Heading back to Taehyun’s dorm was too painful, so they made for Soobin and Yeonjun’s apartment.

They tried to fall into some sense of normalcy by playing a round of a computer game and putting on some bad Netflix film, but it was difficult to will away their loss and pretend that they weren’t waiting to lose a little bit more.

So they talked about Taehyun until there were no more stories to share.

They shared their favorite memories of Beomgyu, laughing so hard at some of the anecdotes that by the end of it, Yeonjun’s sides were in stitches.

They took photos for Hueningkai’s Instagram. They gave Yeonjun time to write his ‘will’.

Hueningkai asked him if he was scared of dying.

Yeonjun lied and said he wasn’t.

Soobin asked if he was lying.

Yeonjun let his silence speak for him.

At one point, Yeonjun glanced at the clock, did the math, and realized he had survived 22 hours. Was it possible to cheat Death-cast? Yeonjun wondered, foolishly amused.

He didn’t have the energy to dwell on the thought. He didn’t have any energy at all, really.

He was so drained that he didn’t even remember dozing off while snuggling with Soobin. He jolted only at the sound of Hueningkai’s loud snore.

The couch was cramped, so Yeonjun dragged himself to his bed. Half-awake, he typed out a text to his parents that meant to let them know that he was okay and that he’d call them after he napped. He was too tired to even know if he hit send. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell right back to sleep.

He was dreaming of tulips and brown-eyed boys when the cardiac arrest happened.

Choi Yeonjun could not cheat death after all.

Hueningkai found it nearly impossible to live in the aftermath.

It was made particularly difficult by how much the city reminded him of the past. Like how the dance studio had renamed to YJ Entertainment, honoring their star student by using the script on his final note as their logo. Like how the breakfast cafe never threw out the table with Taehyun's carved initials. Hueningkai once sat at it, only to be dragged under at the sight of KT etched into one corner.

Soobin was an immense pillar of support. The two remaining boys clung to each other in the first few years, doing everything they could to work around their complex emotions.

Eventually, they realized that the grief would never really go away. All they could do was grow around it.

Their frequent meetings trickled down to weekly occurrences until they decided to stick to first Fridays— it lasted a few months, but it brought the both of them too much pain. They decided not to force it. They went their separate ways and learned how to live with the mourning.

And they did, really. Hueningkai kept up with Soobin through social media. They never lost touch. They just took some time to heal separately.

It had been a while since they last saw each other. Their last conversation was about how Yeonjun's dance break trended, and how Hueningkai's father was encouraging them to copyright the song.

The posthumous success that Taehyun joked about, Soobin had said laughingly. Hueningkai found some comfort in the fact that he was not the only one left remembering.

He never went back to the restaurant they last ate at, though it was hard for him to miss out on the snowball Beomgyu and Yeonjun had unintentionally started.

Unbeknownst to Hueningkai, the two had left a doodle that night; he would only see it spreading on social media a few months later, after the restaurant recognized a tradition that was happening to its patrons.

"This is pretty cool, isn't it?"

Hueningkai nodded, staring at the scrawled last words scaling up the restaurant wall. Soobin stood at his side, the two having agreed to meet-up for lunch.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun's little act of vandalism inspired a chain reaction of some sort. Now, those who were called by Death-cast could visit the restaurant for their final meal and, on their way out, leave a small part of themselves behind on the storefront.

"I think Beomgyu would be happy to see this," Hueningkai chuckled. "He'd be excited to be so famous."

"Yeah, he really would."

The two made their way into the restaurant, making small talk and catching each other up as they waited for the waitress to stop by their booth. When she finally stopped by, Soobin looked up directly at Hueningkai as he spoke.

"I heard the food here is to die for," Soobin said casually.

Hueningkai stared back, momentarily thrown off.

And then he smiled— finding peace in the fact that he and Soobin could share one last thing.

hueningkai's instagram account: @hyukatheloser.

#txt angst #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt ff #txt imagines #txt oneshots #yeonjun angst #beomgyu angst #taehyun angst #beomjun #taegyu #yeonjun imagines #( revisiting this for archiving purposes was Harrowing. ngl )#(🥡) notebook

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