please, don't hang up | nyukyu

i didn't know who else to call

silence. just the quiet shuffle of movement on either side of the phone. breathing. an occasional throat clear. no words. but it wasn't awkward.

changmin stayed like that, eyes closed, listening to the sound of someone else just being there.

at some point, he thought he heard a faint snore from chanhee's end—soft, barely audible. a twitch of a smile formed as he turned into his pillow. comforting. oddly calming. it made the empty feeling in his chest ease for the first time all day.

when he woke up, his phone had long since gone dark. the call timer said 6 hours, 17 minutes.

—

the next morning was overcast. humid. changmin grabbed a sweatshirt anyway, more out of habit than need. he was halfway through buttering toast when his phone buzzed again.

chanhee [09:52]
did we fall asleep on call or was that a dream

changmin [09:53]
both. probably.
you snore btw

chanhee [09:53]
rude. blocked.

changmin [09:54]
already? smh

chanhee [09:55]
allergic to slander

changmin laughed to himself as he shut the cabinet. his morning suddenly felt a little less gray.

—

across the city, younghoon was standing in the doorway of their shared apartment, arms crossed.

"you're coming," he said.

"i really don't want to," chanhee replied, already burrowed back into the couch cushions.

"it's just a party. not a contract."

"same thing."

"you haven't left the house for anything besides work or groceries in, like, weeks."

"i talk to people."

"a stranger on the phone doesn't count."

"he's not a stranger."

younghoon arched an eyebrow. "you haven't even met him."

chanhee paused. "...yet."

"then consider this practice."

—

the party was already too loud when they got there. someone shoved a plastic cup into chanhee's hand almost immediately.

he didn't drink from it right away, but the beat-heavy music and sea of strangers made it tempting.

he stuck close to younghoon at first, following him through the crowd, laughing politely when introduced to people he knew he wouldn't remember. eventually they got separated. chanhee leaned against the wall near the kitchen, fiddling with his phone.

"you look bored," someone said.

he looked up. a stranger—dark hair, open smile, holding a drink in each hand.

"guilty," chanhee said.

"i'm woojae." he handed him one of the cups. "this might help."

"thanks," chanhee said. he took a cautious sip.

"haven't seen you before."

"first time," he replied.

"ah. rookie." woojae grinned. "you've got that 'got dragged here by a friend' look."

chanhee laughed. "how'd you know?"

"lucky guess."

they talked. easy things at first—school, jobs, music. woojae was charming in a casual way. he made chanhee laugh, leaning in a little closer each time. and maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just nice to feel seen, but chanhee let it happen.

when woojae touched his wrist lightly, chanhee didn't pull away. their jokes got dumber. their laughs louder. when the music shifted to something older and slower, woojae held out a hand in mock-seriousness.

"care to dance?"

"you're ridiculous," chanhee said.

"i'm sincere."

they swayed stupidly in the corner of the living room, not in time with anything. it was fun. silly. oddly sweet.

"it's too hot in here," woojae said eventually. "want to go outside?"

he nodded.

they slipped out the side door into the backyard. it was quieter. the pool glowed faint blue under the string lights. the night air was cool on chanhee's skin.

woojae sat on a lounge chair and tugged chanhee down beside him. close. knees touching.

"you're cute," woojae said, voice low.

chanhee looked at him, a little shy. "you said that already."

"still true."

they kissed. slow. tipsy. hands cupping faces, lingering longer than they probably should've. it wasn't bad. it was nice. kind of dizzying.

woojae leaned in again, deeper this time. his fingers brushed down the sides of chanhee's neck, trailing to his waist. he tugged him a little closer, legs overlapping. chanhee went with it, fingertips curling into woojae's hoodie like a lifeline.

his heart was racing, but not in a bad way. for once, it felt like someone actually wanted him. like maybe, just maybe, he could let go a little.

woojae's fingers found the hem of his shirt and hovered there, teasing. 

chanhee didn't stop him. not right away. he let the moment stretch. let himself imagine the warmth, the closeness, the escape.

but it was only when a hand slipped beneath the fabric, skin to skin, that something in him jolted.

"wait," he said, quietly but firm.

woojae paused. "everything okay?"

"just—don't. not right now."

"hey. that's fine." woojae raised his hands. "we don't have to do anything."

but something in chanhee's chest was tightening fast. the space felt too small. the pressure of it all too much. his breath caught.

he stood quickly. "sorry. i just—i need to go."

"wait, are you okay?"

chanhee was already walking. then jogging. then pushing through the house like it was on fire. he barely noticed the people staring as he rushed out the front door.

he collapsed onto the curb, phone in hand, fingers trembling.

called the only person he wanted to hear.

"hello?" changmin sounded sleepy. confused.

"i—i'm sorry," chanhee's voice cracked. "i didn't know who else to—"

"hey. hey, it's okay," changmin said, instantly alert. "just breathe. where are you?"

"outside. i—I ran. i couldn't—"

"okay. you don't have to explain. just stay there, alright? i'll call you a ride."

"okay."

"send me the address," changmin added gently. "then go sit somewhere safe, okay?"

chanhee nodded, even though changmin couldn't see him. "okay."

minutes later, a new message came through.

changmin [00:31]
uber's 5 minutes out. please text me when you get home.

chanhee [00:32]
i will
thank you

but when he got home, he fell asleep, phone still in hand, screen glowing faintly against the dark.

and changmin, waiting on the other side, never stopped checking.