Chapter Text
HYEONJUN
It was the first time in years that Mun Hyeonjun set foot on the campus of his high school. He had been busy since his graduation, and he was not exactly the type to stay in touch by joining a lot of social activities.
The alumni gathering was to be held at the school hall in half an hour. It was a Saturday, not a school day, but the surroundings were still buzzing with energy as it was the 50th anniversary of the school. Alumni of various school years, in different walks of life, were reuniting under one roof to celebrate and visit their favourite teachers.
Invited by a classmate, Hyeonjun decided to join as he was having a holiday. His home was close to the school, so he would seize the chance to visit his family too. That was what he told himself, with the real reason pushed to the back of his mind.
As his footsteps echoed in the corridor, Hyeonjun walked down a memory lane of his high school days. Emotional events tended to leave the most vivid memories. His graduation day seemed like only yesterday when he bustled around campus, looking for his junior with unruly hair, Choi Wooje. Repeatedly interrupted by classmates and juniors who wanted to take pictures with him, the popular schoolboy became increasingly agitated, as his target was nowhere to be found.
They had been so close. Wooje was his favourite maknae, everyone knew that. So it was a surprise when the younger one did not come to find him for pictures. Or give him a graduation gift. Nothing. He simply vanished. Hyeonjun had been expecting something else, something way more. It made him edgy that it did not turn out as he expected.
He sighed and made his way to the rooftop, his favourite hangout place with Wooje. Carrying flower bouquets he received as graduation gifts, he breathed heavily after climbing the stairs to the rooftop. And when he saw the person in front of him, his heart beat even faster.
Gripping the wired fence, Wooje stood on the edge of the building, looking towards the courtyard downstairs. The afternoon was hot, but he still wore a vest and sported his trademark, squarely glasses, which made him look nerdy.
“Wooje!” When Hyeonjun called out his name, he turned around with a dazed expression. It took him a few seconds before he gave Hyeonjun his full attention. “Why are you here alone?”
“Umm, don’t know, is the graduation ceremony over already?” He sounded so clueless it was infuriating but endearing at the same time. Hyeonjun sighed and dropped to the floor next to him, fanning himself with his palm.
No one spoke for a while. A thousand thoughts ran through Hyeonjun’s mind, but he did not know how to organise them. Speak to him! His head screamed, but he did not know how. He was not even sure what he wanted exactly.
He did not think he would be the one doing the talking. After all, he was the campus sweetheart whom everyone fell for. He never had to confess to anyone. They came to him.
He thought this time would be the same, but apparently no. Despite every sign pointing to Wooje’s infatuation with him, he did not come forward. It was his last day at school and the last chance for the younger one to catch him before he left his hometown for university.
When Wooje finally finished his student-gazing and sat beside him, Hyeonjun was burning with nervous energy. Should he wait? Or should he make the first move?
“It was my last day today,” he tried, but Wooje seemed distracted and just nodded.
Don’t you have anything to say to me? He wanted to ask but decided it was too cowardly. He would soon start pacing like a pigeon if he did not get it over with once and for all. He had to get it out of his chest, the strong feeling that was about to burst.
“I… I love you, Choi Wooje!” He blurted out, which finally made Wooje look him in the eye.
That was a sight he would never forget.
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion until the meaning of the words sank in. Then he blushed furiously and blinked, looking at anywhere but him.
“I… I didn’t expect this, hyung,” he stuttered. It was so unlike him, who never bothered with honorifics around him.
“Thank you… I… You are the best person I have ever known,” he continued to stumble through words. It was a high praise, but it was not what Hyeonjun wanted to hear. His heart started sinking as an awkward silence started to creep in.
“Thank you for everything. I wish you all the best for your graduation,” Wooje concluded with a faint, sad smile as if he was about to cry. It felt like a slap to his face. A nail in the coffin. He wanted to throw up.
Hyeonjun only managed to nod in acknowledgement before turning around and fleeing down the stairs. Fuck, he had gotten everything wrong. Wooje did not like him that way. He just saw him as a good senior.
He remembered all the time they spent together, the way Wooje smiled at him, their proximity. The shattered images pierced his heart. He realised he liked the other so much more than he ever admitted as tears started streaming down his face. He wiped it furiously as the other students turned in surprise. Unable to stay another second, he ran out of the campus, not even saying a proper goodbye to many of his friends who planned a farewell dinner.
But he could not handle it. Hiding underneath blankets inside his own room, he did not even join his family for a dinner thrown together to celebrate his graduation. His sister told his angry mother, “Probably a nasty break-up?”
She was so wrong. He did not even qualify for a break-up. Why was he so devastated?
People usually define first love as their first relationship. But to Hyeonjun, he always remembered Wooje as his first love. The first person whom he loved wholeheartedly.
Looking back, Hyeonjun thought the experience traumatised him. Ever since then, he has chosen the easy path and did not go out of his way. When people confessed to him, he accepted them. People come, people go. It was safer that way.
But as time went on, he never quite felt the same intensity of emotions. Maybe it was the magic of first loves, he figured, no matter whether they bore fruit or not.
It was not a good feeling, the heartbreak. But if he was to turn back time, he would probably still do what he did. Maybe he could have done it better, he thought as he climbed the stairs to the rooftop. There was still time to spare before the gathering, so he thought he could revisit the one place with bittersweet memories.
The doors were still unlocked, just like the old times. When Hyeonjun pushed them open, he was blinded by the bright sunshine. A person was standing there against the light, with his contours glittering like a halo.
His breath caught when the person turned towards him. It was Wooje.
With the same unruly hair, maybe slightly longer than in the old days, Wooje was wearing a big oversized hoodie and jeans. He looked boyish although he was older now, probably already working somewhere.
And when he saw Hyeonjun, he looked surprised but overjoyed.
“Hyeonjun?” He dashed forward and greeted him with a big smile and crinkly eyes. It was just like the days when they were joined at the hips, as if they did not lose contact for several years.
It was redemption. Hyeonjun could not help but smile. “Wooje. Nice to see you again.”
They walked back to the hall together, but once they arrived they went to their respective group of friends in their classes. Hyeonjun felt apologetic to his classmates, but he failed to register the conversations most of the time. He was staring at Wooje, seated many rows in front of him and whose fluffy hair was easily recognizable.
The principal, teachers and alumni representatives took their turns to speak, all of them turning into background noise. Hyeonjun was just asking himself a question the whole time: should he approach Wooje after the event ended? He was divided between working up his courage and talking himself out of the stupid idea. What was in the past should stay in the past. They were different people now, all grown up. It would be cringe to reminisce on old times – it is what elderly people do, not young adults his age.
But the other part of him wanted closure. Even if the romance did not work out, Wooje had been his good friend. It was painful for him to lock up all their good memories because the ending was not what he had hoped for. It was unfair to Wooje too, having lost a friend due to something he had no control over. Now older and more mature, Hyeonjun trusted that he should be able to put grudges behind him and rectify the wrongs done by his younger self.
This part of him won over by the time the speeches ended and the socialising began. Trays of finger foods were rolled out on long tables on the two sides of the hall, and wine by glasses on the ready. He saw Wooje stuffing the small bites into his mouth, making his cheek extra puffy. It brought a smile to his face knowing that the younger one was still such a foodie.
When Wooje started to turn his head as if he was searching for someone, Hyeonjun just knew he had to act. He strolled towards the younger man with his casual grace, somehow more staged than usual, and handed him a plate full of food.
Wooje’s face lit up instantly. “The food is not bad, but the potions are a bit small,” he said.
“Well, guess we will have to go somewhere else for a proper dinner,” Hyeonjun replied and wanted to give himself a thumbs up for being smooth.
“I would like to, but I already agreed to join my classmates for dinner,” Wooje sounded regretful. But when he saw the apparent disappointment on Hyeonjun’s face, he added, “We can go drinking afterwards? Dinner is not ending too late, I assume.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Or I can leave the dinner earlier. Anything for my best hyung,” Wooje smirked. Hyeonjun swore his inner self was doing a somersault before he schooled his expression and nodded calmly.
The reunion dinners had dragged on for both of them, which was understandable as it had been ages since they met so many classmates since their graduation. Everyone was catching up with each other and gossiping about their classmates as well as teachers.
When they finally met up, it was almost midnight.
Although the atmosphere was friendly earlier when they met each other at the school, it got a bit awkward when it was just the two of them seated in a neighbourhood bar with soju in their hands. Wooje stared at his drink, looking a bit flustered as he tried to start the conversation, “How are you doing? It has been some time since we last talked.”
Hyeonjun grimaced. It was the understatement of the century. He really acted like a dickhead at that time, severing all ties after his graduation. “I am sorry,” he said, raising his bottle and downing half of it before Wooje stopped him from finishing the whole bottle.
“Hey, don’t. I just want to know what you are up to? On top of what I read from the news.”
Hyeonjun was surprised that Wooje kept his tabs on him. Maybe he should not be that shocked, given his minor celebrity status in his high school. Not many people would be able to join the professional baseball scene.
“So far, so good. Been with the same team for two seasons now, so the synergy is good but it is a bit difficult to make further breakthroughs.”
Wooje was fascinated by his accounts of professional training and competitions. He had that glow in his eyes that conveyed his genuine love for baseball when he played alongside Hyeonjun during their school days.
“I envy you so much. You are living my teenage dream,” Wooje admitted. “But really, even back in the days you stood out. Like you are on another level.”
“You were not bad either,” Hyeonjun said, and he was speaking the truth.
“I tried my very best. I practised day and night, remember? I was so uncoordinated at first, I wanna shoot myself,” he giggled.
“Yes, you were one of the clumsiest rookies I have ever seen,” Hyeonjun replied with a fond smile.
He definitely remembered the moment they first met. The rookie who wore nerdy glasses, was shorter than him and so lanky. With his mushroom hairstyle, he greeted Hyeonjun with a cheerful chant of “Hyung!” and an enthusiastic bow in a lineup of freshmen joining the school team. “How cute” was Hyeonjun’s first reaction when meeting him.
Wooje played like a complete beginner — not a baseball beginner, but a beginner of any type of sport. As a baseball fan who had watched games with his family since he was a kid, Wooje was familiar with the rules and could yap non-stop about the star athletes on both Korean and overseas teams, but the knowledge failed to help him in the physical aspect.
There were three baseball practices after school every week. Two days were dedicated to the skill side of things: pitching, catching and batting. Rookies had to learn all of the three basic skills before they were assigned to a particular position which fit them best – except for Shohei Ohtani, few could do equally well in pitching and batting. Hyeonjun was a star pitcher on his team. Known for his broad shoulders and muscular arms, he could proudly pitch at 90 miles per hour.
When he looked at the rookie, he just could not help but doubt if he could ever do it. It was not only his build but his personality – Wooje appeared to be such a mellow person, he just could not imagine him doing anything fierce. True to his imagination, Wooje threw so softly that the ball would not hurt a bird. After repeated attempts that brought no improvement, he lost his balance and fell onto the ground, hitting his knees when he landed.
The other rookies squealed as Wooje picked himself up from the ground. His trousers were covered in dirt and he hissed in obvious pain. Hyeonjun sighed as he saw it coming. He offered to bring him to the nurse, knowing full well where her room was as he was assigned to clean it regularly.
The nurse was not there when they arrived, but having spent a lot of time in the room, Hyeonjun knew where the supplies were. Settling Wooje in a seat, he rolled up his long trousers to reveal the wound, which was nastier than he thought.
“It hurts, it hurts,” Wooje wheezed and seemed ready to bat away his hand as Hyeonjun disinfected the wound with a cotton ball dipped in alcohol. He seemed like the youngest son who was well-protected by his family, Hyeonjun thought. But Wooje showed his tough side by thanking him with a smile despite the pain and insisting on returning to the practice.
Hyeonjun was ready to walk away when they rejoined their teammates. But when he saw Wooje’s pitching going nowhere after another few tries, he could not help but intervene.
“Here, you can’t throw with just your hand’s strength. You need to make use of your whole body,” Hyeonjun told the frustrated youngster as he demonstrated the motions himself. “You gotta turn your waist. It adds to the power.”
Wooje stared at him with intensity as he tried to mimic it. He swung his body, stumbled and threw the ball towards a completely wrong direction, narrowly missing a teammate. Hyeonjun stood there with his jaw dropped, stunned by his clumsiness.
“Okay, let us do it together,” Hyeonjun cupped Wooje’s hand as they went through the steps one by one. As the ball flew into the air in a beautiful curve, Wooje yelled in excitement and jumped up and down, totally forgetting his injury. When the pain returned, he curled up on the ground like he was punched in the gut. Hyeonjun wanted to laugh at the pure drama, but he held it in.
The “clumsy rookie” – it was Hyeonjun’s first impression of Wooje.
In fact, star players like him seldom practised skills together with the rookies as there was too big a gap between them. But they still did some basic training together, and running laps was one of them. Besides playing baseball, Hyeonjun had been practising taekwondo when he was younger, making him one of the best in the team when it came to fitness level. As for Wooje, although he did not want to be harsh, could probably come last. When Hyeonjun ran, he could finish a circle and catch Wooje who was one whole lap behind. His whole face was flushed and he looked ready to faint any minute, with his glasses sliding off his sweaty nose. Hyeonjun did not know what possessed him, but he ended up running extra laps just to see the funny expression on Wooje’s face when he passed him yet again. The rookie looked as if he wanted to punch him but was too tired to do anything except drag his legs across the floor.
Hyeonjun half expected Wooje to call it quits, but he somehow held onto the thin thread.
Staying behind for additional practices was a norm for Hyeonjun. He did well as a student, but it was far from what he wanted to achieve. It was his dream to become a professional, and he had to be the best of the best to be scouted. He was already used to playing alone well into the night, but when he was perfecting his pitching, he could faintly hear the thud of a ball hitting the ground from a distance. He was curious about who it was, so he made his way to the other side of the training ground.
He was met with the sight of Wooje throwing the ball on his own. When the ball failed to land within the target area, the rookie shook his head and murmured to himself before going through the steps again.
“Swing, swing,” he said as he got into position, raised his arm and swung. When the ball fell within target this time, his face lit up against the warm glow of the sun, which was slowly sinking towards the horizon. The smile was short-lived as the next throw was a failure. “Threw too softly again,” Wooje said matter-of-factly and got ready for another try, again and again.
Hyeonjun watched him from afar, not wanting to break the moment. What a tough kid, he thought as he went back to his own pitching.
The sky had completely darkened when the pole lights turned on and he heard a squeal. Hyeonjun dashed to the only other person remaining on the field and was relieved to see that he was unharmed, just panicking.
“Something wrong?” He asked.
Wooje seemed surprised when he heard the question. He was unaware that Hyeonjun had stayed behind and looked a bit embarrassed that someone heard his earlier yelling.
“Oh…umm… it’s not a big deal. I just forgot to tell my mother that I’m staying behind, and it’s now dinner time. She’s gonna kill me,” he grimaced.
Hyeonjun shrugged as it sounded like a non-issue to him. His family had long given up on checking his whereabouts after he turned a deaf ear to their complaints. He casually tailed behind Wooje who started running to the changing room to get his phone.
“Hey mum, it’s me. I am still at school.”
“No, it’s not classes, just baseball practice.”
“It’s late? Urgh, yeah, a bit. But I have to practise when I am on the team! I’m not loitering outside! Why don’t you believe me?”
Hyeonjun could hear the shouting of an angry mother on the phone as Wooje paced like a duckling. He gestured to Wooje and made him hand over his phone.
“Hi, is it Wooje’s mother? I am his senior, Mun Hyeonjun. Yes he was practising with us,” he said and to his relief, the mother immediately mellowed. “Don’t worry, I will accompany him on his way back home. Sorry that the practice ran late.”
Wooje was apologetic when the call ended. “I am so sorry about the trouble. I can go back home on my own, it’s ok.”
“I promised your mom. Just hurry up and change your clothes. We are going soon.”
“Really, you don’t need to…” Wooje tried to argue. With his patience running out, Hyeonjun shouted, “Can you just do what I said?”
The junior nodded tensely and changed without further ado. When he remained silent during their travel on the bus, Hyeonjun realised belatedly that his tone was a bit harsher than he intended.
“Look, sorry if I scared you earlier. I really don’t mind getting you home. My dinner starts late,” Hyeonjun said, trying to sound reassuring. “You live quite close to school though. It is actually walkable.”
Wooje nodded again, “I walk home most of the time. But it’s quite late today so…”
“Living nearby is great. You can wake up later in the morning too,” Hyeonjun said.
“Yeah, but I stay in bed for way too long and have to run to the gate almost every morning.”
“Then why do you still suck at running? You practise every day.”
“I sprint to the gate ok? I am really good at sprinting, not running a marathon. Just watch me one day.”
“I don’t believe you. I really don’t,” Hyeonjun replied with a smirk on his face, as the earlier tension dissolved amid their bantering. Before long, they made it back to Wooje’s home, which was a house located in a small neighbourhood. His mother was chatting with a neighbour when she saw her son returning. She smacked on his head lightly.
“Tell me earlier if you're gonna go home late next time, alright? Everyone is waiting for you for dinner,” she told Wooje before turning to Hyeonjun, bowing slightly. “You should be Hyeonjun, right? I’m so sorry about the trouble. Thank you so much for taking care of him.”
Hyeonjun was quick to reassure her that it was not trouble at all, while the mother pushed Wooje through the door. It was bright and loud inside the house, which appeared to be filled by the chatting of family members. When the door closed in his face, Hyeonjun stood there for a moment, hypnotised by the buzzing energy. Then he shook his head and walked to the bus stop where he would start his long trip back home. It would be long past dinner time when he returned, but it was not something that Wooje’s mother needed to know.
It was dark inside his home when he opened the door, which came as no surprise. Several banknotes were left on the table, and a note telling his elder sister to buy dinner for the two of them. The sister was nowhere to be seen, so Hyeonjun pocketed the bill and went back out. Walking to the opposite street, he sat down at a noodle stall where the boss lady greeted him by name and served the usual dish. He strolled on his phone mindlessly as he slurped the noodles, and realised he got a message from Wooje. They exchanged numbers on the way, as Wooje said – while rolling his eyes – that his mother wanted to know Hyeonjun’s number in case she lost track of her son.
“Thank you today, hyung!” Wooje wrote, adding a sticker of a bowing Psyduck.
It brought a smile to his face. He could not tell why, but the pokemon duck looked similar to Wooje and he wondered if it was why the teen used it.
“That duck looks like you,” he somehow wrote what was on his mind without any filters.
Wooje replied with another sticker, a nodding duck.
“It looks…clumsy,” Hyeonjun wanted to say stupid but backtracked a bit. He was not that close with Wooje yet.
“Hey!” Wooje added another sticker, but a crying duck this time. It made Hyeonjun laugh out loud. He finished the noodles and went back home.
The late evening practices went on. For Hyeonjun, he had always practised late into the night alone. With Wooje staying behind, it did not make a big difference initially as they each did routines on their own. But Hyeonjun was curious somehow and peeked at how Wooje was doing. When he saw the youngster pitching with wrong postures again, it physically pained him — so much that he had to make his appearance.
He found out the hard way that Wooje was one odd, stubborn kid. Instead of just doing what he said, Wooje kept asking questions in a way that could be considered impolite when talking to seniors. Hyeonjun knew that he was genuinely inquisitive, but sometimes, he also felt like pulling his hair.
He questioned himself why he did not just leave the teenager alone for his own sanity. But it was satisfying to see him make progress, albeit little and slow. Hyeonjun felt like a teacher and as someone who did not have good academic results, it was refreshing.
“Hyeonjun hyung, can I help you practise too?” Wooje asked one time.
Hyeonjun pondered the question and shook his head. However, Wooje was relentless.
“Why? I’m sure I can be of use somehow. Please?”
Call him a weak person but he could not say no to those bright, innocent eyes. Hyeonjun knew he was inviting more trouble because on top of pitching he had to teach Wooje catching too, just so he could “help” with his practice.
When he finished going through the basics and proceeded to throw him a ball, he felt like a proud mother when Wooje caught the ball in his glove. They played throw and catch some more, but Wooje did not seem happy.
“It was not how you pitch, hyung. You are treating me like a child,” he pouted.
“It doesn’t make sense to throw at full speed. You just started.”
“But I’m supposed to help you, not the other way round, right? You don’t need to babysit me.”
Hell yeah, he was babysitting alright, handling not just Wooje’s techniques, but also his pride or sense of responsibility. Hyeonjun sighed and went into the storeroom to fetch the full gear, including the helmet and other protectors, as an excited Wooje shot him more questions about how they should be used.
When Wooje settled into the standby position, he looked confident. But when the fastball thrown by Hyeonjun zoomed by his side, his face lost colour. He even closed his eyes, which looked hilarious.
“I’m not even aiming at you,” Hyeonjun shrugged.
“You should!” Wooje yelled.
Hyeonjun felt like sighing due to his stubbornness. He aimed another throw straight at Wooje, who instinctively shielded his face with his hands – which made no sense as it was already covered by the facial protector.
“Oi, what are you doing?” It was worse than what Hyeonjun expected when Wooje could not even keep his eyes open.
“Ahhh I can’t help it. Again?” Wooje waved his gloves animatedly, asking for another throw.
With the third throw, Wooje did manage to step up – he stayed grounded and did not dodge, although he still failed to catch the ball. Hyeonjun felt bad when the ball hit Wooje. It was as if he was beating the junior up. The guilt made Hyeonjun give himself a new challenge: he had to aim his throw so accurately that even if the rookie did not move an inch, he would still be able to catch it.
When the ball landed right into Wooje’s glove, the junior let out a loud cheer and rushed towards him for a high five. Hyeonjun had to blink twice because he swore he could see a duckling waddling over, thanks to the stickers that Wooje had been sending him. He roared with laughter and was grateful for a second that the other person could not read his mind.
Teammates were quick to realise Wooje’s improvement. They almost thought he was a genius, not knowing how much time he spent practising on his own and with Hyeonjun. The two never discussed it, but neither mentioned to the others that they spent extra time together. Wooje did not go out of his way to approach him during team practice, and he just treated him as yet another junior.
In the meantime, accompanying Wooje home had become a routine. Most often they took buses, but when the weather was particularly good and they had the time to spare, they made the way back on foot. Wooje was the quieter type, but when he started talking about his hobbies, he was unstoppable. It was fun listening to him babble about baseball, football and computer games when they strolled along the river bank in the sunset. He wondered if it was what it felt like to have a younger sibling, but threw the idea out of the window almost immediately. After all, he did not think his sister ever had the urge to coddle him. It gave him goosebumps to imagine himself walking with her in silence, with nothing to tell each other.
Wooje never asked questions that he would not want to answer, like why he continued bringing him home, regardless of whether it was early or late. It was another story for Wooje’s mother, who would not let him off the hook that easily. On a night when they forgot about time and stayed later than usual, the mother was concerned if it would make Hyeonjun late for dinner.
He could have been diplomatic with his answer, but at that moment he just blurted out that he seldom had family dinners. She appeared surprised and sympathetic, not something that he particularly wanted to see but he just did not feel like sugarcoating for his own parents when he was the neglected one.
The exchange did not stick in his head, and a few days later Wooje paid him a surprise visit during lunchtime. The junior poked his head inside his classroom shortly after the bell rang, looking lost and nervous. He was panting and could have run up to his floor.
Hyeonjun was just about to head out with his friends when Wooje stopped him at the door. His friends watched them with curiosity as Wooje stuttered, so Hyeonjun waved them away.
“Umm, can I have lunch with you?” Wooje looked embarrassed.
“Sure, but why all of a sudden?”
Wooje took out a huge rectangular box, “I don’t know what’s wrong with my mum. She cooked so much food this morning and I got a lunchbox double the size as normal. There’s no way I can finish it on my own.”
Bringing a lunch box was an alien concept to Hyeonjun, whose working mother never had the time to prepare it. He pondered if they could eat it at the canteen, but it would be troublesome to explain to his friends about Wooje and the lunchbox. Instead, he decided to head to the rooftop, which he discovered to be unlocked recently.
When he pushed open the door, he was met with the view of the cloudless blue sky. After spending hours inside the classroom, it was liberating to finally breathe the autumn fresh air. The weather was a bit chilly, but it felt just right as Hyeonjun spread his legs under the afternoon sun while Wooje unpacked the multilayered lunchbox diligently, as if going on a picnic.
There were colourful kimbap rolls with beef, carrot, eggs and vegetables, freshly made with crisp seaweed sheets and smelling of sesame oil. Cheese sausages were fancily cut in the shape of octopuses. Wooje cheered when he saw fried drumsticks, his favourite food. Hyeonjun was amazed that there was even seaweed soup kept in another bowl. He was clueless about how a mother could cook this much food intended for one, but the amount of work put into it showed how much of a spoiled child Wooje was.
But Wooje was already used to it and did not even bat an eye. They did not have spare utensils, so they ate with the same bowl and chopsticks. It was a feast, making Hyeonjun so full that he started feeling sleepy.
As if telepathic, Wooje yawned at the same time, “Can I sleep a bit? I can’t believe I ate so much.” Hyeonjun nodded in agreement as he slid onto the floor, using his jacket as a pillow for a quick nap.
It was one of the things that he liked about Wooje. The youngster could be talkative at times, but he was quiet by nature and was comfortable with silence. He was different from Hyeonjun’s classmates who were loud and picked on each other almost non-stop. It was difficult to explain, yet Wooje seemed to be able to pick up on his mood easily. They could banter at times, but Wooje would tone it down when Hyeonjun felt under the weather.
Since then, napping was the official answer he gave his friends when he opted out of lunch with them. In reality, he would be sharing a lunchbox with Wooje, whose mother was insistent on cooking dramatically big meals to help his son grow taller. Hyeonjun was unsure if Wooje could catch up on his height, but he sure was growing bigger. His cheeks, in particular, were getting so rounded that they were inviting for a squeeze. Going along with the impulse, he pinched them. Wooje batted away his hand in annoyance, like a cat which was ruffled the wrong way.
“Is it boring to eat with me alone? Do you wanna meet my friends?” Hyeonjun asked, secretly hoping Wooje would say no although he was not sure why.
“No?” It came as a relief when Wooje did not hesitate in answering. “I mean… I guess we can eat together if you want? But you know I am so introverted. I don’t know what to talk about with seniors.”
“But I am a senior too.”
“Well, you are different.” Hyeonjun’s heart almost skipped a beat before he heard what came next. “You are the friendliest lamb.”
“Lamb? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oi, oi, no offence. Just saying you are a gentle senior.”
“Choi Wooje, don’t overdo it you little rat.”
“I’m not a rat. I am at most a hamster,” Wooje puffed his cheeks and Hyeonjun broke down in laughter instantly. It was as if Wooje had a switch on him or something, he thought helplessly.
Months flew by in the blink of an eye as autumn turned into winter. Tension ran high as their baseball team would face a tough opponent in the inter-school tournament, and the win rates were pretty even in previous facedowns. As a rookie, Wooje would be a substitute player although he had made improvements. Hyeonjun would be the closer, the pitcher bestowed with the important task of pitching the final inning when his team had a narrow lead. The key person to lead the team to victory.
Although it was not snowing, Korea was freezing cold during winter. Hyeonjun juggled his feet to keep himself warm and also to let out some of his nervous energy before facing Wangho, nicknamed Peanut, the star batter of the other team. Peanut was a celebrity student player set to be scouted, according to hearsays circulating among school coaches.
His restlessness became so obvious that Wooje came jogging over and asked jokingly, “Do you wanna hold my hand?” Hyeonjun swore and waved him away. Actually he did want to hold it, shake it or swing it, if not for the dozen pairs of eyes on them.
Whatever must happen ultimately should happen. The match was as close as expected, and his team had a small lead which he must die to defend. The opponent team was occupying all three bases, and the only mission Hyeonjun must accomplish was to strike out Peanut.
The first ball he pitched was swung by Peanut out of bounds. He tried to throw a curveball on the second try, and this time Peanut narrowly missed it. Hyeonjun could feel the rush of blood in his body. His heartbeat was almost erratic as he got ready for a fastball.
The instant he threw it, he knew it was a disaster. The ball went straight at Peanut who swung his bat in a beautiful curve. The ball flew high and went over the fence, a clear homerun. Cheers erupted on the field as all the baserunners reached the home base.
“Peanut! Peanut!” They chanted their captain’s name repeatedly, but Hyeonjun could no longer hear the white noise. He did not remember how he went on to line up with his teammates and greet the winning team. He was on autopilot, putting on a brave face and consoling the other teammates, saying they played well and they would win next time.
After the teammates left and he was alone in the changing room, the delayed sense of doom crashed over him. He was supposed to carry the team, but it was his vital mistake which cost them the game. He just did not deserve to be called a star player if all he did was to let people down.
Tears welled up as guilt overwhelmed Hyeonjun, but he tried to hold it back as he heard approaching footsteps. A familiar figure sat down next to him on the bench and hesitantly put a hand over his.
Wooje did not speak, and Hyeonjun let his tears fall.
As his sobbing grew louder, Wooje pulled him into a loose embrace and patted his back. It was chaotic as both of them had no tissues on hand, leaving Hyeonjun with no choice but to wipe away his tears with his sleeves. It felt like a century until he got the tears under control, took a few deep breaths and looked up.
Wooje looked worried. He showed Hyeonjun a timid smile as he loosened the hug and gave his hand a little squeeze.
Hyeonjun felt a heartache unbeknownst to him before. He also had a sudden urge to lean in and kiss the boy who acted like an angel when he was at his lowest.
The thought shocked him and he was taken aback. He quickly turned his back to Wooje and wiped his face messily with his jacket.
“God, I am a mess, ain’t I?” He wanted to crack a joke and realised his voice was hoarse from the crying.
“Do you want chocolate?” Wooje dug into his pocket and produced a piece. Who would have chocolates always on the ready? He was really a kid, Hyeonjun thought as he put it into his mouth. It was white chocolate, which tasted very sweet and magically made him feel better.
The loss resulted in even harsher training for Hyeonjun (self-imposed). Wooje was pushing equally hard, with no other choice if he wanted to survive catching practice with a mad pitcher (him). They had good momentum going and despite room for improvement in Wooje’s technical aspects, they communicated flawlessly. There were times when Hyeonjun wondered if he could play with Wooje instead of his regular catcher during matches. He would die for an opportunity for Wooje to show his worth in front of the others.
A more troublesome side effect of the loss was his budding feelings for Wooje. All of a sudden he found Wooje’s smile to be that much sweeter, and his clumsiness endearing. What he would call chubby in the past now became unbearably cute. The unexplainable shift made him want to bang his head against a wall, crack it open and see what had changed inside. It also made him practise even harder to exhaust himself to the point that he had no strength remaining to try anything weird.
It did not help that he was seeing Wooje less often than before, at least in a one-on-one setting. So long, farewell for their duo lunch sessions as winter made it too cold for them to stay on the rooftop. Wooje joined, for a few times, Hyeonjun’s group of friends who called him the “mushroom kid”. But it left a sour taste in his mouth when the bunch joked about them sharing a lunchbox like a couple. They were obviously trying to get a laugh by making Wooje shy, but Hyeonjun had become very sensitive towards anything that would upset the friendship between them. He donned a thunderous expression throughout lunch, so intimidating that his friends apologised to him after.
It could be a bit embarrassing for Wooje to see them fight and he ended up joining them less during lunch. On some days, Hyeonjun thought it was a relief to go back to his “normal”, chilling with his friends instead of Wooje. On other days, he wanted to slap himself for not daring to make a move. His mind was in a perpetual state of conflict over whether he wanted to see or not to see Wooje and what he should do with him.
His mind might be in turmoil, but baseball practices remained a constant and he continued with taking Wooje home. The sub-zero temperature was unforgiving, but – Hyeonjun admitted that his brain had short-circuited – they ended up walking instead of busing back home. Hyeonjun deep down wanted to make the trip as long as possible, and Wooje somehow just went along with his crazy antics. It was so cold that their breaths turned into white mist, and Wooje kept blowing warm air into his hands, which was of little help.
Hyeonjun took off his thick scarf and wrapped it around Wooje several times, almost shielding his face completely. Feeling courageous, he grabbed Wooje’s hand and put it into the pocket of his down jacket.
“I have warm hands, don’t I?” He said out loud as if reasoning with himself. He could not even look Wooje in the face, as he feared he could be blushing.
Wooje did not pull away, that was all he needed to know. They ended up running half the way back, giggling in the freezing air and leaving pairs of footprints in the snow.
It was memorable but did not end well. Wooje fell sick the next day, having caught a cold and developed a fever. Hyeonjun blamed himself for pulling the reckless act when he should have known better. He was used to running in sub-zero temperatures, but obviously not Wooje.
His rational side told him it was just a cold, no big deal. His stupidly infatuated side just wanted to see how Wooje was doing, no matter what. The burning desire overcame his cowardice and made him head to the lower form classroom, where he got the assignments for Wooje from his classmates. They were surprised to see him there, but his campus celebrity status helped things. He was a renowned player on the baseball team after all and few questions were asked when he collected Wooje’s assignments.
When he finally arrived in front of Wooje’s home, he hesitated again. Wooje did not respond to his texts and was probably asleep. He did not know the others in his family though, and it seemed impolite to just ring the doorbell without prior notice of his visit. As he loitered at the front door, Wooje’s mother spotted him after coming back from the market.
“Hyeonjun? Come on in quickly! It is cold,” she waved him inside.
Hyeonjun seldom spoke to her without Wooje’s presence, but she was welcoming and cheerful.
“He’s such a weakling. He falls sick every winter,” she said with her hands on her hips. “Thanks so much for bringing his homework! Can you take them upstairs for me? I still have to sort out the groceries.”
It was how Hyeonjun ended up entering Wooje’s room for the first time. He took a look around and saw posters of baseball stars pinned on the wall. Some manga volumes were stacked on the table, with stationery and books scattered around and a photo frame amid the mess. He edged closer and realised it was a group photo of their baseball team. He was standing with the seniors, while Wooje was squating on the front row with the fellow rookies.
Wooje seemed to be restless in his sleep. His face was red with the fever, and he was sweating under the blanket. Hyeonjun touched his forehead to check the temperature, and it felt hot. His palm was cool and Wooje, acting with animal instinct, nuzzled his face into it.
Hyeonjun froze as if he was struck by lightning. He just stared when Wooje turned his head and moved his lips incredibly close to the centre of his palm, just moments from kissing it.
Knocking on the door broke the moment and Hyeonjun snatched his hand back. He quickly dropped the homework onto the desk along with a bar of chocolate that Wooje seemed to like before making his retreat.
Later that night he received a message from Wooje.
“Mom told me you visited. Sorry I wasn’t awake. Why is there chocolate though”
“Don’t you like this brand? You said chocolates cheer you up”
“Who would bring chocolate to a patient? You really don’t know anything, Hyeonjun hyung”
“Shut up. Eat it when you recover. Rest well ok?”
“Hehe, I will go back to sleep now”
Wooje recovered soon enough. Even then, he did not return his scarf. Hyeonjun felt giddy when he saw Wooje wearing it, so he never asked for its return. Sometimes he wondered what Wooje thought about him and he kept trying to push the limits of their acceptable boundaries. Or he just ran with whatever he could get.
Ruffling his hair seemed allowed. Wrapping his hand around his shoulders and waist, usually ok. Holding hands? Depending on the context. Never had he ever loved winter so much, as long as he had the excuse to entwine their fingers oh-so-platonically.
Hyeonjun did not want to sound full of himself, but he had been the centre of admiration. He had received more than a fair share of adoring gazes, be it from girls or guys who idolised him. He seemed to see the same glint of light in Wooje’s eyes. He liked him, that was for sure, but to what extent?
He would like to ask himself the same question, but the answer arrived before he was ready for it.
Wooje invited him for a sleepover on a weekend, which was basically a night of watching football and playing video games. It started with a dinner prepared by a too-enthusiastic Wooje mother who filled the whole table with different dishes, as if they were celebrating a festival. Any worry that Hyeonjun may be the sore thumb sitting among the family members was unwarranted as Wooje’s talkative elder brother kept the conversation going. His father, also a baseball fan, was keen to learn about their team activities. He felt at ease and was again reminded of how much Wooje was loved by his family, something he craved in his bones.
They played a few rounds of computer games after dinner, and Hyeonjun was surprised to find out that Wooje was quite combative in-game, as opposed to how he shied away from confrontations in real life. He was confident when playing games, bossy and sometimes, sassy, Hyeonjun shuddered at his own thoughts. He also wondered if it was how Wooje let out his aggression, which was what he did sometimes in the middle of the night when he was trapped at home.
It would take long before they could watch their favourite football team play in the UEFA Champions League, which would start in the wee hours due to the time difference. Wooje suggested watching something on Netflix to spend the time, and they relocated to his bed and switched on the laptop. Wooje looked sleepy when they started the Japanese drama, and a few episodes in he already dozed off on Hyeonjun’s shoulder.
When the drama leads embraced and shared a passionate kiss in the winter snow, Hyeonjun blushed. He could feel the weight on his shoulder, the proximity of Wooje and his faint breathing. He turned to his side and with hammering heartbeats that threatened to escape his chest, kissed the top of his head gently.
He did not understand why he would fall for the nerdy boy wearing thick-frame plastic glasses, but it was his new kind of aesthetics now. He would do anything to prolong the moment when their bodies and limbs brushed against each other accidentally, as he tried his best to maintain the delicate balance of friendship despite his feelings that grew day by day. He found it surreal that he was sharing a blanket with his asleep crush, who was so trusting of him to let him into his world, into his home.
“Wooje ah, what should I do with you?” Hyeonjun murmured to himself as the person on his shoulder jolted awake as if hearing his question. He slid down, found a new pillow in Hyeonjun’s knees, and returned to his slumber in no time. Having long abandoned the drama, Hyeonjun stared at Wooje’s asleep face, which was even softer than usual without his harmless bantering. In repeating circles, he traced the eyes, nose and lips with his fingertips ghosting above them, barely touching. It was as if he entered a trance.
Hyeonjun hyung. He heard his name being called.
Spread beautifully on the bed, Wooje looked up to him with half-lidded eyes and parted lips, a fatal attraction that drew Hyeonjun in. He sighed in satisfaction as Hyeonjun kissed him, which started chaste but became heated soon, like wildfire. Fingers were entwined, as Hyeonjun held on tight and pressed Wooje further into the sheets. The boy stuttered his name in broken notes, which sounded greater than music to his ears.
Hyeonjun. Hyeonjun…
Hyeonjun hyung!
This time it was loud and high-pitched. Snapped out of the haze, Hyeonjun found himself lying on top of Wooje, with his mouth inches away from the other’s plum lips. Wooje looked panicked, which alarmed him to some extent but not as much as the realisation that he was pressing his very awake body part against the other. The shock sent him rolling down the bed and he landed awkwardly on the floor, hitting his head.
“Are you alright?” Wooje asked, his face turning from panicked to worried.
No, he was definitely not alright. He needed thunder to strike and kill him on the spot. But as it was unlikely to happen, he took the second-best option and escaped to the toilet.
The sheer horror of waking up from a wet dream to see the person in your fantasy lying underneath you. Involuntarily. If sheer embarrassment and guilt could kill a person, he would have died a dozen times.
Call him old-fashioned, but Hyeonjun did not fantasise about his crushes, at least not out of his own will. He could not control his sub-consciousness and that fucked him up big time. What a perfect place and time to dream about making out with an underage junior with his brother sleeping next door and right after his mother cooked him a feast as a token of thanks for “taking care” of her son.
Things did not magically turn better after he returned from his hiding. He could not face Wooje at all and although he felt like apologising, he did know how to do it in a way without embarrassing himself again. So he made up a lame excuse of having to return home early for some chores so that he would not stay to have breakfast together.
Wooje looked disappointed and not at all convinced. He wanted to say something, but his guest had already left in a hurry.
To make matters worse, Hyeonjun ran into his own mother who was about to set out for work when he returned home.
“What were you thinking? Not returning home the whole night? Not even a word?” She roared.
“As if you would care,” Hyeonjun whispered, but she still picked it up.
“Are you blaming me now? Why am I working two jobs if I don’t care? I do it for you and your sister, and for what? For you to just waste your last high school year away playing all the time?”
If Hyeonjun was not angry before, he was now shouting in his top voice, “I am not fooling around! I am playing baseball, that’s what I’m doing!”
“What can you do with baseball in your life? Be serious, my son. You have to go to university and find a proper job, not dreaming about playing sports for a living.”
Hyeonjun was frustrated because conversations with his mother never went anywhere, “Why are you always like this? Why can’t you even listen to me?”
His mother, however, was already looking at her watch, “I don’t have time for this. You are going to the tutorial school next week. I already paid for it. You can’t waste that money.”
“Mom!” Hyeonjun yelled, but she was out the door. He punched the wall so hard that it bruised his knuckles. “Fuck! Fuck this. Fuck everything.”
Although he was beyond upset about the arrangement, he still went to the tutor classes. It left him with no choice but to cut down his baseball hours. He tried his best to attend regular training, but could not help but skip a day or two every week. Spending extra training time on his own and with Wooje was just impossible. That matched his agenda somehow, as he had been avoiding the rookie since the stayover. Wooje did not deserve such cold treatment, but whenever Hyeonjun saw him, his mind kept rewinding to the embarrassing incident. He had yet to come to terms with Wooje’s new status in his sub-consciousness and was disgusted with himself. It was as if he had to stop himself from approaching the boy in order not to bring him harm.
Going to tutorial school was horrible. He did not hate the people, but he was always angry there thinking he was forced into it. He was scrolling his phone during class when he received a message from the person who had quickly grown almost distant to him, due to his self-inflicted choice.
“Can I grab a bite with you? I am nearby,” The ad hoc message said.
It would be mean for him to refuse such a small request. Not that he looked forward to going back home anyway, so it would be great to get dinner covered.
When he entered the fast food chain, Wooje, already seated, gave him a little wave.
“Why are you in the area?” He asked after they got themselves burgers and fries.
“I… umm… I came here after practice? We haven’t hung out for a while,” Wooje hesitated before answering, as if he was called out.
That meant he came directly from school specifically to meet him, which surprised Hyeonjun. It also sent a warm feeling to his chest.
I miss you too . I miss you a lot, he wanted to say but did not. Instead, he asked about the latest of everyone on the team and also how Wooje had been progressing. It was not a good feeling that he was slowly falling out of touch with his teammates. It would not be long before he was no longer needed, forgotten.
Strangely, Wooje could sense his mood, “Everyone misses you, you know? We can’t win without our ace! Can you come back more often?”
Ace or not, his mother did not care Hyeonjun thought, “It’s not that simple, Wooje. It’s very difficult to go pro. If I am not scouted, I am screwed if I don’t have a backup plan.”
“You only live once. You should do what you love to do,” Wooje said. “You are so good at it too. Screw anyone who said otherwise.”
Hyeonjun still wanted to argue that he was too naive, that he could say that only because he had always got the backing from his family, but what he said was true. He could only give it his all if he truly loved it, not when the others told him to do so because it was safe .
If he wanted to realise his dream, there was no time to linger on a back-up plan. It had always been all-or-nothing. He just refused to face reality.
“I will think about it, I promise. Thank you for telling me this.” The mood was getting a bit too solemn for his taste, so he ruffled Wooje’s hair.
He did not like to gamble, it was just not his personality. But sometimes, there was only one shot in life. Once the chance was gone, there was no going back.
Days later, when he walked into the baseball field proclaiming “Screw exams! I will enter uni by playing baseball!”, he received thunderous cheering and whistling.
“Moon Hyeonjun!”
“Go pro!”
“Moon Hyeonjun!”
“Go pro!”
His teammates chanted in turns and buried him in a group hug. Their genuine trust in him brought tears to his eyes. It was going to be a long torturous road, and he needed all the support he could get.
In the following months, he did not skip all the tutor classes. Instead, he looked into the admission criteria for outstanding athletes and studied with the aim of achieving the minimum score required through special admission. He knew that it would be his best chance based on his abilities. There were times when his tutor came to grab him back to classes, but she gave him leeway to practise first most of the time.
He no longer avoided Wooje. The rookie already convinced his mother that he would be fine going back home on his own, but Hyeonjun would, on a rare occasion or two, accompany him home. It served as a prize for himself – if he did well in mock exams or in practice, he allowed himself the privilege. Wooje was kept in the dark about this rationale running in his mind, but he welcomed the company. Winter was over, with the endless white snow melted away and replaced by fresh greenery. The rapid change of scenes reminded him of how little time he had left in high school and in Wooje’s company.
It was as if Wooje sensed it too. In the past, he would enter his home after a quick goodbye. But these days, the two would linger on the doorstep and chat some more until Wooje’s mother shouted from indoors, asking him to hurry up and not to let the dinner dishes go cold.
It was bittersweet. While he had a growing conviction that he had a special position in the boy’s heart, their time together had entered a countdown. If his plan succeeded, he would have to leave his hometown for Seoul. There was not much time for him to dwell on the thought, as he had to try his hardest to make the miracle happen.
He had exhausted all his brain cells and strength to play his heart out in every inter-school game, as university scouts could be there anytime. When he got an invitation from a university after they won a game, everyone was euphoric and threw him up in the air. He was laughing so much as teammates took turns to slap his back or give him a big hug.
Then he saw Wooje standing at a slight distance away, smiling from ear to ear. He weaved through the crowd of teammates and went straight to him for a bone-crushing embrace. He wanted to hold on forever, to tell him how a single sentence he uttered led him to make the biggest decision in his life. He was his life changer. His special one.
But there were people all around them, and Hyeonjun let go reluctantly.
Looking back, he thought the euphoria led him to a wrong judgement. He had overcome the biggest difficulty thus far in his life, and he felt invincible. Because of the crucial role Wooje played in his life, he was convinced – perhaps without any basis – that he was equally important to Wooje.
On the day of his graduation, the urge to confess to Wooje became unbearable. It was the last piece of puzzle that he had to solve in his high school era, and he thought he just had to do it no matter what. In reality, he did not think over what he wanted to achieve with the confession. He just wanted to make his feelings known.
It backfired terribly. He had never imagined how painful it would be when Wooje did not return his feelings, so much that he simply could not accept it like a gentleman and let things go back to normal.
His hasty decision had cost him his best friend. After graduation, he no longer contacted Wooje, and they fell out of touch.
Years passed before they ran into each other in a reunion event and ended up drinking into the late night, reminiscing on school days. Hyeonjun knew he should have stuck to the safe topics, but after more than a few drinks, his rationality was shut down. It was hard not to mention the biggest regret of his school life.
“I shouldn’t have done what I did on graduation day, then we would have stayed in touch. I’m such an idiot,” he said, mocking his own stupidity.
Wooje blinked. He clearly understood what he was referring to.
His gaze became crystal clear when he replied, “Don’t say that. It was a precious moment in my life.”
Hyeonjun was taken aback. He had expected a laugh at best, and a frown at worst before Wooje brushed the topic aside. But Wooje responded to it head-on without any indication of repulsion.
Precious . He could not understand him at all.
“We can meet more often now. I work in Seoul too, by the way,” Wooje added.
Hyeonjun took the invitation with a grain of salt. Everybody says that after a gathering, but seldom acts on it. So he was honestly surprised when he later received a message from Wooje which contained an address.
Hyeonjun thought that chapter of his life had closed, but apparently not. The gears have started turning again.
“Come find me if you have time!” Wooje wrote.
“Sure, I will,” he replied.
- TBC -
Next chapter: Wooje POV