92: The Call

Stephen woke up angry. His phone had no business ringing at 5 AM, and as he snatched it off his nightstand, he had no intention to answer. He was mentally cursing himself for not silencing it for the night when the name on the screen made him freeze.

With an unsteady hand he swiped to accept, then cleared his sleep-hoarse throat. “Inho?” He couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.

Inho’s reply was small in his ear, he could hear him take a steadying breath before he spoke, “Hey Stephen, it’s me… it’s Inho.”

“I know who it is,” Stephen sat up in his bed, nervous energy thrilling through his limbs, “Why are you calling me so late? Wait. Why are you calling me at all?”

Inho didn't answer and Stephen could almost see him chewing his lips through the phone. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, “It’s fine… just... Tell me what’s going on. Is everything okay?” The wait for his answer was eternal.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have waited til morning.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Another silence.

“I’m sorry I didn't call you sooner… I’m just… sorry.”

“It’s okay.” (It wasn’t okay.)

“I wanted to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. And, there’s some things I need to tell you.”

Stephen took a deep calming breath. His hand ached already from where it was clenched on the sheets. He loosened his grip.

“Do you have some time?” Inho continued, “Can um, can I talk to you?”

Stephen had an extremely important meeting in two hours, and if he missed it, everything he’d been working for recently would go up in smoke. He hesitated, then, “Can you wait a bit? Now’s not a good time.”

“Oh.” Inho’s voice trembled slightly, “Yeah, of course. Sorry for bothering you.”

“I’ll contact you soon.”

Inho agreed, then promptly disconnected. Stephen fell back in his pillows, and covered his face with his hands. This… this could work.

*****

8000 kilometres away, Inho’s heart raced as if Stephen were in the room with him. The call obviously hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, but at least Stephen had answered. And he’d said they could talk later…Hopefully he meant it. Like the last time they’d been separated, just hearing Stephen’s voice after time apart impacted Inho on a visceral level, sending heat radiating from his middle like hot slow honey.

He got in the shower to wash up before bed. His cheeks burned as he scrubbed his hair. He should have checked the time zones before calling. He hoped Stephen, who hated getting woken up early, wasn’t annoyed about it. Was he really going to call back? He’d said he would but… Inho stepped out of the shower and shook his hair hard, dislodging the thought with a spray of water droplets. He’d said he’d call back.

The important thing was that a line of communication was open now. He’d been hesitant, but Inho was nothing if not reactive, and Min had given him a lot to think about. He had even left Juneso at the bar early so he could work through it. Of course, doubts about Stephen lingered, but after confronting Min’s feelings, Inho was painfully aware that his heart had not let go of Stephen yet.

So, apologizing seemed like as good a place to start as any. Min was right about the ghosting, and another thing Min had said was sitting front and center in Inho’s mind: “I think you need to re-evaluate what it means to love someone.” Min had complained, drunk but somehow as well-spoken as ever, “You’re not a kid anymore. A meaningful relationship isn’t about winning against your partner, it’s about being on the same team, even when you’re hurt.”

Inho scrubbed himself with a towel, tossed it aside, and crawled into bed. What did that mean? Not that he should forgive anything, Min would never suggest that… but… that you should trust your partner? That they’re allowed to fuck up and still be loved? That hmm… you faced problems together even when it felt bad? Even when it made you vulnerable? That sounded right… But, how worthy would a person have to be to warrant that kind of partnership?

He fell asleep mulling over the concept and at his afternoon shift covering Junseo the next day, Inho was still distracted. Someone had left a little bag of chocolate kisses on the front desk, and he munched them while he thought. It was quiet in the gym, and he had plenty of time to himself.

Does Stephen deserve the kind of loyalty that Min was talking about? He ate another kiss, and a thought occurred to him that stopped his jaw in its tracks. Do I deserve it?

Min himself practiced what he preached, even if they weren’t dating. For his friend, Min had stuck around to talk through Inho’s problems… That must have cost him something too. When was the last time I risked my own comfort for someone else? Inho hadn’t even apologized to Jasmine yet. Hadn’t tried to comfort his dad since he’d called crying, hadn’t checked in on Jamie since she was fired, hadn’t read Stephen’s texts…

His stomach squeezed unpleasantly.

What if... I’m the problem…?