Work Text:
Ten never really thought he’d reach that age where everyone he knew was getting married.
When he was in his early twenties attending his manager’s wedding, his sister’s wedding, his old choreographer’s wedding, he always watched them through rose-colored glasses. He loved the grandeur, the joy, the idea of being so in love with someone you would throw a huge party to commit your life to them. It was beautiful, he always thought, the smell of love and roses in the air. Family and friends crying during the vows.
Ten always kind of wanted that for himself. He would cry at the wedding of someone he hardly knew and Johnny or Kun would roll their eyes and nudge him.
Ten used to be a romantic.
It changed somewhere along the way. Somewhere after debut, somewhere after Johnny, somewhere after 30, somewhere after the first NCT wedding.
And after years of being in the industry, years spent with over 20 group members. He went to a lot of weddings.
Here he was at 37, attending Zhong Chenle’s wedding.
She was pretty. Lovely even. Ten doesn’t know much about her, only what he knows from Kun. And most of what Kun says about her is tinted with the sad, lovelorn smile—the silent regret.
But nonetheless, Ten sat unmarried at the reception table, and Kun sat with his what could have been at the head table, chatting politely with Mark and sharing little smiles with Chenle.
Ten is stuck sitting with the new kids. The ones who are in their early twenties, gawking at a beautiful wedding with those same rose-tinted glasses. Treating Ten politely, calling him sunbae. Ten barely knows their names—barely knows anything about NCT anymore.
He was never close enough to Chenle to be his groomsman. Yangyang was sitting with him before but he’s catching up with Renjun somewhere. And the rest of the old WayV members are all back promoting in China. Winwin couldn't make it because he’s in the middle of a movie shoot. Xiaojun and Hendery are busy MCing a show in Shanghai. Kun cleared his schedule for this months ago, otherwise, he would have still been holed up in his producing studio in Beijing.
Ten is kinda bitter that he’s one of the last ones still making a living in Korea. Every day he considers just moving back to Thailand.
He could do it if he really wanted. Brush up on his Thai. Visit his mom. But he would be lying if he didn’t admit something was holding him here.
Kun came by to see him earlier, but he’s Chenle’s best man and has been sticking to his side for most of the night. Of course, Mark is one of Chenle’s groomsmen. And of course, where Mark is, Johnny isn’t too far away.
Ten tells himself it’s not because of Johnny. He hasn’t spoken to him in eight years! What business does he have holding a grudge for so long? Being in the same vicinity wouldn’t kill him. Holding a conversation with him wouldn’t be the end of the world.
He just doesn’t know if he could bring himself to pretend.
It’s about time for him to leave. He just needs to pee before he has to chase Chenle around to start his goodbyes. He has to admit he does want to say goodbye to Mark, though that would be harder for him than stealing a hug from Renjun or Taeyong. Maybe he can catch him while Johnny is somewhere else.
The bathroom is empty and decorated with the same white and gold color scheme Chingyi picked out for the rest of the wedding. A centerpiece spray-painted white and sparkly gold sheds glitter all over the bathroom counter. Ten tries to get out as quickly as possible. Loose glitter only means bad things.
The bathroom is way too nice. Ten shouldn’t be surprised by the golden toilet handle or frilly accents on the mirror, he’s at Zhong Chenle’s wedding after all. The grandeur should have been expected.
He’s drying his hands with the ridiculously soft hand towels, perfectly at peace with how the night is ending when Johnny walks in.
Ten almost laughs. The man he’s been avoiding all night somehow manages to unintentionally corner him. He wishes it was actually funny.
It takes a second for Johnny to recognize him. His grin almost makes Ten nauseous.
“Hey, man,” Johnny says like they did when they were kids, still giggling in trainee dorms, laughing at nothing.
Ten can't pry his fingers from the ceramic of the sink—can’t believe this is happening. He manages a smile despite himself, examining him through the mirror. Johnny never did manage to find a hairstyle he liked better than that neat brown cut.
Everything about Johnny is so familiar, Ten can’t help but feel his chest open up. It’s been so long it’s like his body has long forgotten the hurt and fallen into muscle memory.
“Hi.”
“It’s really good to see you, Ten. It’s been so long, I was meaning to come say hi. How lucky we ran into each other,” Johnny says genuinely.
Ten turns away from the sink to face him for the first time in years. No longer an airbrushed image on a screen, or a bus ad. Just the same Johnny Suh he fell in love with. He leans against the counter, fingers still pinched around the end of the counter, and truly looks at him for the first time in 8 years.
The wrinkles on his forehead make him look even more handsome Ten thinks. He liked him when he was young, sure, but Ten thinks he looks better here. Thirty-eight. He remembers when he thought 38 was practically dead. Now, Johnny looks timeless.
“It’s good to see you too, hyung.”
Ten thinks it’s funny how easy it is for them to slip into the way it was. He thinks it’s funny they still speak in English. He thinks it’s funny Johnny still makes his stomach churn. He thinks it’s funny how different their lives are now. If he blinks they’re just clueless kids again.
“I feel like every time I come to one of these, I see another person I haven’t seen in 10 years,” Johnny jokes, turning towards the sink.
Johnny is living in America now. He moved away not too long ago. Ten read the headlines.
“Yeah, it’s like a time machine seeing some of these people again. I can’t believe the kids are getting married. I about shit myself when I got the invitation for Mark’s wedding.”
Johnny laughs while he washes his hands. Ten knows he understands more than anyone how strange it is to stomach Mark Lee getting married.
Johnny shuts off the water and towels his hands dry, dropping it on the floor accidentally.
He groans as he bends down to pick up the towel. It’s one of the fancy cloth ones.
Straightening out his dress shirt, Johnny sighs, looking off towards the ceiling like he’s reminiscing the days when youth was on his side.
“Yeah, God, it feels like everyone is getting married. Soon it will just be you left.”
The smile drops off his face like quicksand.
“Wow, fuck you, John. We were actually having a good conversation.”
Ten tries to make a break for the door. All Johnny has ever done is get his hopes up and then disappoint him again and again. He doesn’t know why he thought this time would be different.
Johnny grimaces and catches him by the arm. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Rage bubbles under Ten’s skin. Johnny’s fingers sear into his forearm. Ten hates that he has to look up at him.
“What the fuck did you mean then? You know why I’m not married, asshole. You really did not need to say that.”
Johnny loses his fight just as quickly as he found it, breaking eye contact and licking his lips nervously.
“You’re right, sorry. I wasn’t trying to be a dick.”
Ten looks at him for a long moment—unsure of why he’s still here—why he lets Johnny continue to hold his arm like he’ll lose him. Maybe he hopes this time he won’t let go.
“I don’t know why I said that. Really. I was just trying to make small talk.”
Ten clicks his tongue. “I’m not sure why. You haven’t talked to me in 8 years. Why change things now?”
Johnny looks at the ground, his jaw working. Ashamed maybe. Ten’s heart throbs with both satisfaction and regret.
“Ten, I don’t know when things got so fucked up, but I really have no ill will towards you.”
“Well,” Ten says calmly. “Good for you.”
“Do you hate me?”
“Maybe. I think I deserve that.”
Ten removes his arm from Johnny’s grasp finally. Crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Johnny seems to remember his hand was there in the first place.
Johnny opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but Ten beats him to it. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Irritation bleeds onto Johnny’s face.
“Is it because of what—“
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
If Johnny thinks this is about her—about eight years ago—then he doesn’t want to talk.
“I thought we could move on from this, man. We were friends, really good friends before everything else. I don’t see why we can’t just be mature and discuss this.”
“John, this is me being mature, asking to no longer have this conversation.”
“Why ? Ignoring this is clearly not helping anyone.”
“It will just dig up old wounds,” Ten sighs, too tired to argue.
“Okay? Dig them up. I’m giving you the shovel, let’s talk about this.”
Ten almost rolls his eyes at Johnny’s dramatics. “No.”
“Why ?”
“Because you’re next .”
Ten breathes out all the air in his lungs. Johnny seems to stop breathing. The world spins slowly as Ten stares at the wrinkle between Johnny’s brow.
“I’m what?”
Ten swallows the lump in his throat.
“You’re next in line for whatever fucked up lineup for ex-NCT member marriages and I’m dead last. I always will be,” Ten snaps. His chest heaves with it.
“Even after all these new kids they’ve hired, I’ll still be here, attending these weddings by myself. So, yeah. We could talk about it. But what good does it do? You’re happy. You have a long-term girlfriend living with you in another fucking country and you’ll probably marry her one day. Your life is good. So why the fuck would we talk about the shit that happened between us decades ago. Why would we talk about your affair in a fucking public bathroom, John? If you want that go ahead. But we might as well just accept the fact that you’re going to live the life everyone wants for you and I’m going to be stuck tiptoeing around this open secret that I’m gay.”
“Ten, that’s so unfair,” Johnny says, scrubbing a hand down his face.
Ten’s mouth twists. Life is unfair.
Johnny sighs, hands on his hips lifting his blazer. “Look, I’m sorry the industry is so fucked up, but I’m not the reason you’re forced to stay in the closet.”
Ten laughs humorously. “No, you’re right. That’s not what this is about.”
The shine of the marble sink distracts Ten as a thought occurs to him.
“Maybe I just want to blame you because you’re here with Seolhyun instead of me.”
“Whoa …Ten.”
Ten realizes what he’s said—what he’s implied—only after it’s too late. Dread floods his stomach. Embarrassment.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that.” Ten drags a hand over his forehead. Is he sweating?
Johnny looks at him long and hard and Ten shifts in his gaze. He feels guilty. But not enough. Not guilty enough.
“Ten, are you okay?” Johnny asks softly.
“Yes, clearly,” Ten says, brushing him off.
“What happened to you? You used to be so positive about the future. You used to accept everything for how it was and took it in stride.” Johnny searches for Ten’s eyes, like somehow that will make it better.
Ten finally meets Johnny’s gaze with a sharp and unforgiving glare, acid on his tongue. He was hopeful at 22—at 26. He’s 37 now.
“Maybe I guessed things would change.”
The square of Johnny’s shoulders slump slightly and a dull pain sparks in his chest. After years, Ten still can’t decide how he really feels about Johnny. He blames him for everything. But sometimes he questions if there was ever anyone truly at fault.
“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. Guilt travels up Ten’s throat and eats at him like acid. He said so many mean things to Johnny when he knows Johnny shares his hurt.
“Johnny, I’m sorry. About a lot of things. I’m sorry about all the things I’ve said and—the things we did—“
“That was equally my fault.”
Ten draws in a breath.
“I just never got closure, John. You were my best friend and you kept—coming back and maybe you were able to move on but I couldn’t even stand being in the same room as you sometimes. Sometimes it would be so good. And then all of a sudden the rug would be pulled out from underneath my feet. And then…the cheating…God. Do you not realize that was hard on me too? It took me years to shake that guilt. And—I couldn’t even convince myself that if you came to me again I would say no.”
Johnny’s jaw works under his burning gaze. Ten’s eyes sting and his chest feels like it's collapsing. Johnny makes him hurt more than anyone in the world. And yet.
“I’m still so in love with you, Johnny. And that is a hard thing to realize. That even after years of nothing but pain, I still want you.”
“Ten…”
He doesn’t know why he does it. But he never really needed a reason when it came to Johnny.
Ten drifts into Johnny’s orbit, placing his hands on his shoulders, looking up at him to find his gaze—to beg for his hands to encircle his waist once again. Begging him to give in like he always used to. Begging Johnny to give him what he wants.
“I will never stop wanting you,” Ten whispers.
“Ten.”
Johnny’s brow is furrowed. Ten sweeps a thumb over his forehead to relax the muscles.
“What?” Ten whispers, voice weak from fear—from deep sadness.
“We can’t,” he whispers back. His eyes dart around every feature of Ten’s face. His eyes, his nose, his brows, his lips. Ten licks his lips and hopes.
“Why?”
“We can’t do this again. Not to Seolhyun.” Johnny shakes his head, begging with his eyes.
“You didn’t have any problem when it was Sojeong.” Ten cards his fingers through Johnny’s hair and scratches at his scalp. Johnny looks at him like he’s kicking his puppy.
“Ten. ”
“Is that why you moved back home? To avoid me? To protect Seolhyun from me ?”
“We have a life. We want to get married and have kids.”
Johnny’s eyes plead with Ten. Ten’s tell him he could leave if he really wanted to.
“Do you love her?” Ten asks softly, petting the nape of his neck.
“Of course I do.” With the softest touch, Ten strokes the sides of his face, tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s grown out a bit on the sides.
Ten bumps his nose against Johnny’s, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck so their bodies press together. Johnny’s hands encircle his waist like he knew they would.
They breathe each other’s air for a while—hot and thick. Ribs expanding into each other’s, fingers dancing across familiar skin.
“Do you love me?” Ten breathes against his cheek, rubbing his thigh up against Johnny’s crotch, his hands tightening around his flank.
Johnny draws in a sharp breath at the friction. Ten can't tell if he’s going to moan or cry. Or both.
A long moment of remembering. Gazing into each other’s eyes and remembering all of the moments they spent like this. Close enough to breathe the same air—to speak words without speaking.
“I’ll always love you, Ten,” Johnny whispers like it’s a secret.
It is a secret.
Ten swallows down the lump in his throat and kisses Johnny on the mouth as soft as the first time. Teenagers who didn’t know what they were doing. Now they’re just adults.
“Then that’s all that matters.”
Johnny takes his mouth and Ten moans like they’re 19 again. Like they’re 22. Like they’re 29. Like they are now, entangled in each other’s web of shame and lust.
Johnny’s hand presses into the small of Ten’s back like he’s trying to fuse them at the hips—no more space. Ten bites his lip and listens to him sigh in response.
Their hips kick at each other and Ten feels every inch of skin 8 years older than the last time he touched it.
Maybe, somewhere deep down, he feels bad for Seolhyun. Maybe he feels bad for Sojeong. But sometimes when he relives the countless times Johnny drew him in, only to throw him away again, all he wants to do is ruin his life. Maybe none of it meant anything to Johnny, but it meant everything to Ten.
He hopes when Johnny looks at Seolhyun he sees him—grinding against his thigh in a wedding reception bathroom.
Johnny groans when Ten cups him through his slacks. He looks up at him through his lashes as he strokes him.
Am I prettier? He wants to ask.
Johnny gets a hand around his jaw and thumbs open his mouth. Nudging the front ridges of his teeth and testing the warmth of his mouth.
Ten hates it. But he wraps his lips around his thumb and likes it. Revels in the attention only Johnny can give him.
“You’re gorgeous,” Johnny answers.
Ten unbuttons both of their pants, sliding the fabric of their boxers together almost hastily. He hisses along with Johnny.
Ten feels Johnny through his whole body. Like they might just be one person separated by flesh.
Johnny kisses down his neck and Ten feels his exhale shake his whole body.
He yanks down Johnny's boxers to stroke him. Desperate for it. He’s so warm and real there. The only part of him that always wants him.
Johnny licks into his mouth again as Ten strokes him slowly. Muted moans passed between lips.
“God, I missed you,” Johnny whispers, holding his head like he’s a treasure.
Ten smiles. He doesn’t respond.
Johnny pulls farther away like he’s trying to really look at him. Ten strokes faster—eager to see him break down.
They stare. They stare down their regrets and Johnny gets closer and closer.
Am I better than her? Ten wants to ask.
Johnny takes his lips again and comes in his fist.
He knocks their foreheads together, still cupping both sides of his face in his hands. Breathing so hard all he can smell is champagne.
They breathe for a long time.
“You’re so good,” Johnny answers.
“Yeah, God. It feels like everyone is getting married,” Johnny says, shaking his head and smiling.
There’s a bathroom towel on the floor. It’s one of the fancy cloth ones. Johnny groans as he picks it up.
Ten’s eyes linger on the polished white tile. The pointed tips of Johnny’s dress shoes dark against the blinding marble.
“Ten?” Johnny calls.
He looks up to find Johnny again. His soft eyes and crow's feet bowing with concern. Not a hair out of place.
Ten sniffs and glances at the tile once more before returning Johnny’s gaze.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Ten asks softly. His heart thumps heavily and he doesn’t know why.
Johnny smiles, amused by Ten’s distraction. “I said it feels like everyone is getting married.” His tone has gotten softer, matching Ten’s calm.
At this, Ten smiles too, though weaker. He holds his tongue against everything he really wants to say.
Ten stands in the bathroom with all their past and realizes exactly what Johnny means by that.
He can’t help but smile. It’s sweet.
“Are you going to marry Seolhyun?”
Unconsciously, Johnny smiles the widest he has all night and Ten’s heart throbs.
“Yeah, I have a ring picked out. I just gotta stop being a pussy and just propose. I know she won’t care about the logistics—I just…want to make it perfect.”
Ten smiles again.
“I’m happy for you, John.”
Johnny’s grin softens and something inside Ten wilts a little bit.
He truly is happy for him. No matter how much pain their relationship caused him—no matter how many times he’s imagined flying to America and telling Seolhyun what a piece of shit he is or telling all his fans that he’s a heartless cheater.
He wouldn’t actually do it.
Sleeping with Johnny eight years ago didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel good to be a homewrecker. It didn’t feel good seeing the articles about their breakup.
Sleeping with Johnny was only ever temporary bliss.
Maybe it felt good to be wanted by the man he loved for a little while—but like most of his revenge plots or romanticizations, they never worked out like he imagined.
At the end of the day, nothing makes Ten more content than seeing Johnny genuinely happy.
“Thank you, Ten. Really.”
Ten nods curtly. Polite.
“I’m sorry it couldn’t have been you.”
Oh.
Yeah. Me too.
Ten finally feels tears rise from within him and he nods again to hide it.
“Well,” Ten grimaces, wobbly. “Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to.”
Johnny nods. He pats Ten on the shoulder twice. Looking at him so strangely, almost like Ten can see the pity tangible and blinking in his eyes.
A tear falls down Ten’s cheek and Johnny pulls him in for a hug. Reaches into his soul and squeezes his bruised heart and it beats in response.
Ten hates Johnny.
But he will always love him.
Ten stands at the doorway of the reception hall.
Ten watches Chenle and Chingyi look into each other’s eyes lovingly, grins from ear to ear.
After all these years, Ten still loves love. He finds so much beauty in how much power it has over people.
Johnny finds his eyes across the room and smiles one last time.
Some things are good for a while—until they’re not.
Ten thinks there’s beauty in that too.
That night, Ten books a one-way flight to Thailand and begins again.