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Love isn’t forever.
“Wonwoo! Yah!”
“That’s hyung for you, Gyu.” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes, ears, every cell of his being trained on the screen, thumbs smashing the keys of his controller as he plays his 15th round of mortal kombat.
It’s his new infatuation. Hobby. Or, sub -hobby, he supposes.
Like most things people claim they love, you’d expect him to say he’ll never stop playing. He’s been playing it for two months straight! Not a day missed. Every free minute of his time outside of work, obligatory socializing, sleeping and eating and shitting—he just plays this old-school game most only have nostalgia for.
And yea, maybe for the next week, or few weeks, or even a few months, the love will feel infinite. Till it just…falls apart.
“You’ve got mail .” Mingyu smacks Wonwoo’s head with a thick envelope, causing him to flinch and miss the timing for the final attack.
The screen flashes defeat and Wonwoo melts with it, huffing off his headset to tiredly glare at a blank Mingyu. He’s regretting this roommate engagement.
“12 years, Gyu. And you still don’t learn that you can’t be sneaking up on me when I’m gaming.”
“You game more than you breathe, you freak.” Mingyu lightly flicks Wonwoo’s forehead, cackling at his winced scowl as he flops down on the carpet right beside him.
“Starting to regret ever knowing you.” Wonwoo grits, shoving Mingyu away to no avail since the giant doesn’t budge.
“Yeah, well, get all your sorrows out while you can.” Mingyu says, the words coming out lighthearted yet his eyes setting deep and heavy on his face tells another story.
He’s aged , Wonwoo thinks. Taking in the sunken cheeks, the pronounced eyebags. I’ve aged too , he notes with a sharp pang in his lower back.
Wonwoo’s eyes drift to the envelope Mingyu is holding up in the air between them. It’s a classy, floral pattern, off white with golden leaves. It could be one of two things—a friend is getting married, or some bullshit high-society function. Neither of those options would get Mingyu looking like he pities Wonwoo, though.
Wonwoo stares at the envelope, then flicks up to stare at Mingyu. He stares some more till Mingyu looks about a second away from rupturing a vein before tugging the envelope out of his hands.
He gets a feel of the card beneath his fingertips, the freshness of the paper giving it life. He turns it around, reads the little address note.
Love, Wonwoo had realized a long time ago, fades. It’s nothing necessarily gradual. Or maybe it is. It’s just that, one day, you don’t feel like logging in to the game for the daily chest anymore. One day turns to two, and then a week, and then before long, this unchallenged routine of yours that you’ve upheld for half a decade just falls away like nothing. And you think you’ll feel bad, that it’ll all feel like a waste. But it doesn’t. It becomes a memory, a part of you, immortalized in your veins perhaps. It’s quite bittersweet, sometimes a lot less sweet than bitter, sometimes the other way round.
Wonwoo repeats the name out loud unknowingly, feeling a gush of embarrassment when he realizes his best friend is still in front of him, facing him. He looks up, finds the pity he’d seen in Mingyu’s eyes was just concern. Understanding.
Mingyu flashes him a small smile and nods.
Wonwoo nods back, an action more of a reflex than anything meaningful, though he supposes he knows what he has to do regardless.
He carefully tears open the wax seal, fingers shaking a little. Sees the same names in a large, beautiful font on the front of the plain black card.
You are invited to the
wedding of
Choi Seungcheol
&
Park Jihyo
His lips quirk into a little grin as he traces the letters of his name with his fingertip.
Love isn’t forever, Wonwoo knows.
Love takes…effort. He knows that too.
When you suddenly log back into that game you haven’t touched for three years, it’s easy to fall back into that routine, that infatuation, that thrill and exhilaration you felt when you first fell.
Love isn’t forever, it isn’t constant either. But it never fades. It’s just, when it starts to wane, you need to put in double the effort and time to nurture it, to keep it alive.
Wonwoo knows that now, but it’s just too late.
“So.” Mingyu cracks the silence. Wonwoo looks up at him, a lot more defeated than his K.O.
“So.” Wonwoo parrots.
“Cheol-hyung’s getting married.” Mingyu says the words slowly, carefully, as if he were treading on eggshells, as if he said them any louder it’d shatter Wonwoo into irreparable fragments.
“Mhmm.”
“You’re gonna go?”
Wonwoo takes a moment to consider his words, fidgeting with the paper in his hands, before flashing his friend a smile.
“Be my plus-one?”
Mingyu’s eyes widen a fraction, and he makes a sound like a dying bird, somewhere between surprise at Wonwoo’s agreement and denial. But he suddenly stops himself, clears his throat and looks at Wonwoo with a flaming conviction which has laughter bubbling in Wonwoo’s chest.
“Sure, Won.”
“What about Junnie?” Wonwoo arcs a teasing eyebrow.
Mingyu huffs a laugh.
“He’s my plus-one in life, I'm sure he can handle you stealing me away for an evening.”
Love, Wonwoo thinks as he looks at the way Mingyu lights up with every spoken word about Jun, is such a pretty, pretty thing.
-.-.-
“Seungcheol-hyung.” Wonwoo stretches a hand out for a handshake before Seungcheol can even think to pull him in for a hug.
Maybe Seungcheol wasn’t thinking anything at the moment. He looks on the verge of paralysis from shock at Wonwoo’s appearance at his wedding which he invited him to.
Wonwoo won’t be harsh, though. He’d be surprised if the roles were reversed. Their breakup wasn’t ugly, nor is it fresh. It’s been a long, arduous 5 years, and the breakup was amiable. Mutual. Those ones hurt the most. The breakups that happen after a heartfelt, all your thoughts and emotions and fears laid out on the table conversation, are the ones that never stop aching.
Wonwoo feels a little infatuated already.
Seungcheol’s gotten older, more mature, healthier. He looks happy. Happier? That might be Wonwoo’s insecurities speaking. He can’t deny they were happy together. They just didn’t know how to keep it going. Maybe they were too young, too naive, too scared.
Love, for Wonwoo, is his heart thumping up to his throat. He can hear it in his eardrums, in his slight lightheadedness. He can feel it in the automatic stretch of his lips he can’t control as he feels the firm warmth of Seungcheol’s grip on his hand.
“Thanks for showing up, Wonwoo-yah.”
They stare at each other for a few seconds, smiles high on their cheekbones, until Mingyu interrupts with a feigned cough.
“Hello? I’m here too? Your beloved dongsaeng? Your greatest friend?”
Seungcheol barks out a laugh, hand disentangling from Wonwoo’s. Wonwoo feels the heat linger, clenches his hand into a fist a couple times to keep it in. He watches his friend’s exchange with muted amusement until they’re both led to a large table right next to the bride and groom’s.
All the familiar faces, ones he’s never really stopped seeing or hearing yet it’s been so long since they’ve all been under one roof like this, are gathered here with huge grins and boisterous chatter. It feels like a college reunion all of a sudden, but Wonwoo feels good.
It hurts, a little, as he watches Seungcheol bring his wife around for a round of introductions and jokes and teasing.
He meets Joshua’s eyes from across the table, one amongst their extensive friend group since college. Wonwoo’s not super close with Joshua. They’ve mostly hung out in groups, never really alone. But they like each other enough to call each other a friend. There’s care there, and there’s certainly a lot of care in the way Joshua sends him a reassuring smile, seemingly noticing the battle of emotions swirling inside Wonwoo as he observes Seungcheol through flickering glances.
Wonwoo smiles back, folds in on himself a little bit, a little shy from being caught but not embarrassed.
The ceremony, the speeches, the toast, dinner—everything kind of flashes by. It happens, and Wonwoo’s in the moment, he’s grounded yet simultaneously not quite there. He almost cries at their vows, and it’s less from a place of grief and more from a place of joy for Seungcheol.
Love isn’t ugly for Wonwoo, and for that he’s thankful. He doesn’t think he could ever feel something ugly for a man like Seungcheol.
Wonwoo still feels a lot infatuated by the end of the ordeal, by the fifth round of champagne, by the time the guests are dwindling and all that’s left is close family and even closer friends.
Wonwoo’s gathered in a cozy circle with the rest of his friends, chairs all displaced, suits and dresses a mess from wear, everyone’s words a bit more carefree and playful and less masqueraded.
Joshua’s on his right, quietly observing the others with a soft smile, not unlike what Wonwoo himself is doing. Mingyu’s on his left, play-fighting with his boyfriend, Jun, both of them past the edge of tipsy. Wonwoo’s focused on Seungcheol on the opposite end, him and his beautiful spouse leaning against each other in a way that doesn’t seem thought out.
It isn’t, Wonwoo knows. He used to be the one on the other side of Seungcheol. Now all he can do is look at him from the outside, be an observer of happiness rather than creator.
It’s a little sad. But it’s love. And Wonwoo’s okay with that.
“Hey.”
Wonwoo looks to his right from where Joshua nudged him, a little surprised by how close he is but not bothered by the proximity. He smiles, a silent question laced in the curve.
“Always such a starer, aren’t you, Wonu-yah.” Joshua says. It’s playful, not really mean. They’ve known each other far too long for stepping into that territory anyways.
Wonwoo chuckles, notes the amusement painted on Joshua’s flushed face. He’s definitely a little drunk. Joshua always got red whenever he drank.
“Hmm…am I, hyung?”
He doesn’t know why he says it, where he’s going with it. Maybe he just wants to hear Joshua speak more.
“Yeah. A lot.”
“At…”
Joshua rolls his eyes good naturedly. “You know .”
“Is the answer you ?”
Joshua’s face scrunches up in laughter at his lame joke and Wonwoo can’t help but mirror it.
Wonwoo doesn’t notice Seungcheol for that moment. It’s Joshua’s warmth that envelops him. It’s Joshua’s breath that wafts against his skin with his giggles. And it’s Joshua’s voice that whispers into his ear, “Wanna come over for a drink?”
Wonwoo pulls back slightly, enough to catch that hopeful glint in Joshua’s doe-eyes.
“Yeah, hyung. I’ll come.”