Warning: angst, cheating and emotional rollercoaster.
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Jeonghan knew he shouldn't have done it. The instant it was over, regret clung to him like a second skin, heavier with each passing moment. The warmth of another man's arms, the fleeting comfort of a stranger's touch-none of it could erase the gnawing emptiness inside him. And now, as he lay in the aftermath, tangled in sheets that were not his own, guilt weighed down on him like an anchor.
He didn't even know the man's name. The encounter had been impersonal, driven by a desperate need to feel wanted, to drown out the deafening silence that had taken root between him and Seungcheol. What had once been an effortless connection now felt strained, suffocating. Jeonghan had tried to reach out, to bridge the growing chasm between them, but Seungcheol had pulled away, leaving Jeonghan to fend for himself against the creeping loneliness.
The stranger stirred beside him, and Jeonghan quickly slipped out of bed, his movements careful and deliberate. He dressed in silence, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. The man mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, but Jeonghan didn't stick around to decipher it. He couldn't. He needed to leave before the weight of his actions became too much to bear.
The walk back to the apartment felt endless. The night air was cool against his flushed skin, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside him. Every step was a reminder of what he had done, every breath a struggle to keep from breaking down. The city's lights blurred in his vision, but Jeonghan barely noticed. All he could think about was Seungcheol-what he would say, what he would do when he found out.
But what scared Jeonghan the most wasn't Seungcheol's reaction. It was the realization that he might have just destroyed the one thing that had ever truly mattered to him.
When Jeonghan finally reached their apartment, he hesitated at the door. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound almost deafening in the quiet of the night. He fumbled with his keys, his hands trembling so badly that it took him several tries to unlock the door.
Inside, the apartment was eerily silent. The soft glow of a single lamp illuminated the living room, casting long shadows across the walls. Jeonghan's heart sank as he noticed the bracelet on the coffee table-the one he had given Seungcheol on their first anniversary. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing over him, and he struggled to keep the tears at bay.
Seungcheol was sitting on the couch, his posture rigid, his face hidden in his hands. Jeonghan's breath caught in his throat. He looked like he had been sitting there for hours, waiting. Waiting for Jeonghan to come home. Waiting for answers.
"Jeonghan." Seungcheol's voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the anger simmering beneath the surface was unmistakable. "Where were you?"
Jeonghan swallowed hard, the taste of bile rising in his throat. "I... I went out for a walk," he lied, the words burning as they left his mouth.
Seungcheol lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Jeonghan's. The pain in them was like a physical blow, and Jeonghan had to fight the urge to look away. "A walk?" Seungcheol repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
Jeonghan's pulse quickened, his mouth dry. "Seungcheol, I-"
"Don't lie to me, Jeonghan." The sharpness in Seungcheol's voice cut through the air like a blade. "I know where you were. I know what you did."
Jeonghan felt the ground slip out from beneath him. His knees went weak, and he had to grab the back of a chair to steady himself. "I..."
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Seungcheol's voice rose, the anger he had been holding back starting to see through. "Do you think I didn't notice the way you've been pulling away? The late nights, the excuses, the way you won't even look me in the eye anymore? I knew, Jeonghan. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to believe that you could betray me like this."
