Only You (YeonGyu)

Chapter 32: His Return

…had finally arrived.

But Beomgyu was no longer the same boy who loved him.

He had come back. But whether that meant he was staying — Yeonjun didn’t know yet.

+×+

The door creaked open slowly.

Huening Kai stood with his back turned, focused on restocking syrup bottles. “Soobin, can you grab more cups from—”

He paused mid-sentence when he turned around.

His hands went still.

The bottle slipped from his fingers and clattered softly against the shelf.

“…Beomgyu?” Kai breathed, as if the name itself was a ghost.

Beomgyu stood in the doorway, his mouth twitching into the smallest, uncertain smile. “Hey.”

For a second, Kai didn’t move.

Then, with a soft gasp, he rushed forward and threw his arms around him.

Beomgyu staggered slightly from the force of the hug but returned it, holding Kai tightly, his eyes stinging. Neither of them said anything for a while. There was too much to say. Too much that words couldn’t hold.

“You idiot,” Kai whispered against his shoulder. “You were just gone.”

“I know,” Beomgyu murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Kai pulled back slightly, eyes glassy. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was so mad. I thought— I thought we lost you for good.”

Beomgyu looked down. “I thought so too.”

Footsteps approached the door behind them.

“Is that really him?” came a quiet voice.

Taehyun stepped inside, stopping just a foot away. His face was unreadable, serious as always — but his eyes… his eyes were full of emotion. Slowly, he approached.

Beomgyu took a breath. “Hey, Tae.”

Taehyun looked at him for a beat longer, then pulled him into a short, tight hug.

“You look like crap,” he said dryly, his voice cracking just a little.

Beomgyu chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, well. You still talk like one.”

Taehyun snorted.

Kai let out a choked laugh and rubbed at his face. “We missed you so much, Gyu. You really just… disappeared.”

“I didn’t want to,” Beomgyu said softly, eyes lowering. “But I didn’t have a choice back then.”

Kai nodded, understanding. “We know. We figured out what really happened later.”

They all stood there for a moment — the three of them — together again. Older, weathered by time and pain, but whole. Something about the space around them felt warmer now.

“So,” Kai said with a crooked smile, trying to wipe his eyes, “are you staying?”

Beomgyu hesitated.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Taehyun gave him a look. “That better be a yes. You still owe me snacks, remember?”

Beomgyu managed a real smile this time. “I do. And I don’t forget debts.”

From outside, the low murmur of voices drifted through the café.

Beomgyu turned slightly, eyes drifting toward the door again.

“Yeonjun’s here too,” Kai said quietly, catching the glance.

“I know,” Beomgyu murmured. “I saw him.”

Taehyun exchanged a look with Kai but didn’t press.

Beomgyu looked back at them — his friends. His family. The ones who’d stayed even when they were scattered.

“I missed you guys,” he said, his voice thick.

Kai stepped forward again, hugging him once more. “We missed you more.”

+×+

The coffee in Yeonjun’s cup had long gone cold.

He sat near the window, eyes half-lidded, hands clasped tightly around the mug as if it could still give him warmth. But it was another sound that held him frozen: voices. Familiar voices. Ones he hadn't heard together in years.

It had started with a soft gasp from Huening Kai.

Then—

“…Beomgyu?”

His head shot up.

He didn’t move, but his body leaned ever so slightly toward the hallway behind the counter where the backroom door was cracked open just enough to let sound leak through.

“You idiot. You were just gone.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Beomgyu’s voice.

It felt like something slammed into Yeonjun’s chest.

Every instinct told him to stand, to run back there, to say something. Anything.

But he didn’t. He stayed rooted in place, listening like a coward.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Kai said, and Yeonjun felt the guilt twist tighter in his stomach.

He could picture it so clearly — Beomgyu, older now, maybe taller, probably thinner, probably still wearing those stupid oversized hoodies. And Taehyun too, stoic and dry, already giving Beomgyu a hard time like no time had passed.

“You look like crap.”
“Yeah, well. You still talk like one.”

The banter made Yeonjun’s chest ache. He remembered those days, the teasing, the laughter. The way Beomgyu used to call him “Junie” when no one else was around. The way Kai clung to Beomgyu like a shadow. The way Taehyun rolled his eyes, always pretending he didn’t care, even when he cared too much.

Now, Yeonjun was on the outside.

Not even a shadow in that room. Just a bystander in a life he broke.

“I missed you guys,” Beomgyu’s voice cracked.

Yeonjun swallowed hard.

His fingers tightened around his cup.

It should’ve been me, he thought. I should’ve been there. I was there.

And I threw it all away.

Soobin emerged from the kitchen quietly, drying his hands on a towel. He spotted Yeonjun still seated by the window, paused for a beat, then walked over.

“You heard them,” he said softly.

Yeonjun didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“They needed this.”

“I know,” Yeonjun replied. “So did I.”

Soobin sat down across from him, the same seat he’d taken earlier. “You could still talk to him. He didn’t come all the way back for nothing.”

Yeonjun exhaled, slow and shaky. “He came back… but not for me.”

“Maybe not,” Soobin admitted. “But maybe that’s something you can change.”

Yeonjun’s gaze shifted toward the hallway again — where laughter and muffled tears lingered just beyond his reach.

“I don’t even know if I deserve the chance.”

Soobin gave him a sad smile. “You probably don’t. But maybe that’s why you need it more.”