Moral of the Story || seongsang · 2ho

11. Stay awake

TW: non-explicit self harm.

***

As Yeosang's eyes started to flutter shut, Yunho paused the story.

"Do you want to sleep? We can do more tomorrow."

"No!" He shot up, "No, I'm fine. I'm just gonna. . .yeah, get some ice cream, to stay awake better." Yeosang swing his legs out of the bed before turning back. "Do you want anything, Yunho?"

"A glass of rosé, please?"

Yeosang nodded and ran off to the the kitchen. He started the coffee maker as well before rummaging through cabinets until finding more bowls, cups, mugs, and a spoon.

By the time he dished his ice cream and poured the wine, the espressos were finished. For himself, Yeosang did a simple shot. But for Yunho, he added microwaved water to make one of his uncle's beloved americanos.

Balancing their aids on a tray, he came back into the room.

"I made us coffee, too." Yeosang explained, laughing awkwardly. "This night is turning out much better than expected so I vote we stay up."

Yunho smiled at the words, he just hoped Yeosang would understand his story.

After the blond was snug back under the duvet, he turned to the other. "Uncle Yunho," he started hesitantly, carefully. He needed to word this right, not sure if the question would be acceptable. "This is your story, isn't it. . . .Jongho, he is your soulmate?"

And the other's heart dropped. No one else had voiced that name in years. Even when talking about him with Mingi or Byul, he was just that: him.

"Yeosang-ah," he whispered. "I'll cry if I tell you, my love, so just, listen to the story."

The younger snuggled into Yunho's arms, and he began again. . .

"Wait," Yunho looked up, "the last thing was Jongho's 19th birthday, yeah?"

Yeosang nodded, "and Yunjung," (he used air quotes) "was entering university. . . But Jongho's getting better isn't he? After apologizing to his parents?"

"Yeah," Yunho thought, "he got better, for a little bit. . .Today, the twelfth, is his birthday actually, Jongho's." Looking at the clock he added, "Well, yesterday was. It's after midnight now."

Oh, Yeosang thought. He softly smiled before speaking, "Happy birthday Uncle Jongho."

Biting his lip, Yunho held back the tears, because the story, his story, needed to be told. And Yeosang was being especially attentive.

So Yunho began again. . .

~~~

"That fall semester, Yunho wasn't around as much as usual. He was so focused on school, and Jongho spent more time alone.

When Jongho got angry, Yunho wasn't there to teach him to be calm. So when the younger didn't know how to stop, even though he desperately want to, he lashed out.

And then he got angry with himself. Angry because he hated how he was acting but felt far too weak, too cloudy, too guilty, to do anything about it.

Does weakness decrees the fault or multiply it?

Jongho, you stupid idiot! Just fucking do it already. Just do what you're supposed to do, get up. Jongho gritted his teeth.

Yet he didn't move.

He tried to cry, to have the tears cover and comfort him like a warm blanket. Yet they no longer came.