Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jeongin’s problems start when his debit card gets declined at the neighborhood superette for a purchase of ₩19,000—though in some ways, they started long before that. It feels easier to blame the cereal, shampoo, and overpriced coffee than to blame himself, even though there’s no doubt with whom the fault really lies. The cashier hands his card back with a pained expression, awkwardly explaining the error message, and Jeongin stumbles through an apology as he leaves his items on the counter and books it out of the store.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. Eventually, the balance in his account was going to hit zero. That’s what happens when you spend money without making any—and Jeongin sure hasn’t been making any money this summer!

He graduated in February, with honors, with a bright outlook on the future and a resolve to get a high-paying job in his field before the summer was through. It’s now August. His BA in Music Theory is gathering dust on his dresser, unframed and unused. He’s spent the past six months staring at the diploma, willing himself to at least look for job openings, let alone submit a few applications. He hasn’t wanted to admit it, but the truth seems unavoidable now: he’s come down with a critical case of what the kids call burnout.

He lets himself into his building, trudging up the stairs to the third floor walkup he shares with his college roommates. Please don’t be home, Jeongin thinks to himself, as he unlocks the door to their apartment and pushes it open.

They’re home. Felix and Seungmin are on the couch—or rather, Seungmin is on the couch and Felix is in his lap. The TV is on—some new anime Jeongin doesn’t recognize. Neither of them seems to be watching. Felix’s arms are wound loosely around Seungmin’s neck, Seungmin’s wrapped securely around his waist, and they’re trading deep, languid kisses as Jeongin walks in the door.

Jeongin clears his throat, loudly and intentionally. They pull apart, but not far.

“Oh,” Felix says, giving Jeongin a sunny smile. “Hi Jeonginnie.”

“Hi,” Jeongin mutters.

“Hi,” Seungmin says. He tilts his head around Felix so he can get a better view. “Thought you were going to the store?”

“Yeah, about that.” Jeongin bends down to untie his shoes, and hears Felix’s low, rumbling laugh. When he stands back up, he catches Seungmin pressing another kiss to the corner of Felix’s mouth. 

“Jeonginnie,” Felix sing-songs. “Wanna watch TV with us?”

Jeongin stares at Felix’s hands, slowly caressing the nape of Seungmin’s neck. “Yeah, no, I’ve got some stuff to do,” he says.

“Suit yourself,” Seungmin says, as Jeongin hurries past them and into the safety of his bedroom. He hears Seungmin murmur something, hears Felix laugh again like it was the funniest thing in the world. He can’t get his door closed fast enough.

Jeongin loves his roommates—that’s the worst part. He and Seungmin met in an intro-level composition class their sophomore year, having been randomly assigned partners for a group project. Seungmin was quiet and introspective, but not timid. His kind, friendly demeanor cut through Jeongin’s initial shyness, but it was his musical aptitude that blew Jeongin away. Study sessions turned to lunches together, and before Jeongin knew it, they were fast friends. A singer and songwriter like himself—though a much, much more talented one—Seungmin made the farsighted, practical decision to only minor in Music while pursuing an Engineering degree, and he has a very impressive, very well-compensated job to show for it—the kind Jeongin assures his mother he’s working on getting every time she calls to hound him about it.

The first time Jeongin came over to Seungmin’s dorm, Seungmin warned him about his roommate. “He’s the best,” Seungmin said, “but he’s a lot.” That first meeting, bright, bubbly Felix swept Jeongin into a hug, thanked him for taking such good care of “his Minnie,” and effusively complimented his shoulders. An international student from Sydney, he speaks Korean with the cutest Australian accent, and is probably the only reason Jeongin passed his required English language classes. Felix is another CompSci and Engineering disciple, a coding whiz who built his own gaming PC and has already turned down contracts from two major companies because their offers weren’t high enough. (Jeongin is pretty sure he comes from money.)

Naturally, the three of them became inseparable. They’ve lived together for two years, the most fun of Jeongin’s life. They play video games, they get drunk, they bicker over the dishes and borrow each other’s clothes. Jeongin grew up with two brothers, but they’ve never been close. He imagines that if they were, it would feel something like this. 

After a few tough weeks of all-nighters, the three of them managed to pass their final exams and graduate together, with plans to continue their easy living arrangement into the foreseeable future. Since then, Seungmin has been working, Felix has been volunteering while he waits for the right job to come around—(he gives his evenings to a hunger bank feeding low-income families, because of course he does)—and Jeongin has been… kind of dicking around. He’s been recovering from his last semester. He’s been thinking about applying to jobs. He’s been laughing his ass off with his two best friends, letting them distract him from the crushing dread he feels every time he spies his dusty diploma. And it was all going perfectly fine—until last month.

Jeongin doesn’t know how he missed it. He thought they were all friends, and nothing more. Sure, Seungmin and Felix would cuddle an awful lot, but Felix is physically affectionate with everybody—he and Jeongin even kissed once, drunk and dizzy on the dance floor of their favorite gay club, and Jeongin definitely didn’t hate it, but he assumed it was like, a friendly kiss. Just like he assumed Seungmin and Felix’s cuddles were friendly cuddles. 

They weren’t. One miserably hungover morning last month, Jeongin stumbled into Seungmin’s room to wake him up, only to find them both in his bed—half-asleep and half-naked, their bony limbs tangled together. A drunken hook-up, Jeongin assumed—until he caught them making out in the kitchen that afternoon. “I don’t even know how it happened,” Felix said, dreamily, walking hand in hand with Jeongin as he caught him up to speed. “It doesn’t feel real. He told me he loves me. Can you believe it?”

“I didn’t even know you liked him that way,” Jeongin said, trying not to let his bewilderment come off as negativity. If it did, Felix was immune to it. “It’s Minnie,” he said, like that was explanation enough—and in some ways, it was. Anyone would fall in love with Seungmin.

The change in the group dynamic has been an… adjustment, to put it mildly. Felix and Seungmin can’t keep their hands off each other, and unfortunately for Jeongin, they don’t seem to care whether or not he’s in the room to witness their public displays of affection. It’s constant—the flirting, the kissing, the nuzzling and giggling and possessive hip-stroking—and it’s weird, to be this up close and personal with his best friends’ love lives. Seungmin, always so modest and private when it comes to dating, has taken to slipping his hand into Felix’s back pocket and giving him a cute little puppy whine whenever he wants a kiss. Felix can’t seem to say Seungmin’s name anymore without throwing “sexy” in the sentence—including, mortifyingly: “Jeongin, doesn’t Seungmin look sexy today?” Neither of them have any regard for volume when they retreat to one of their rooms at night, and despite two doors and a decent pair of headphones, Jeongin has heard plenty of things he wishes he could unhear. It’s all very, very uncomfortable for him.

He knows he’s being a baby about it. Obviously, he wants the two of them to be happy, and he knows if he voiced his complaints out loud, he would sound like a bitter, heartless troll. He wishes he had literally anyone else he could vent to about it, but Seungmin and Felix, unfortunately, are his only two real friends.

What Jeongin really needs is to move out. The situation wouldn’t be nearly as bad if he weren’t painfully third-wheeling whenever he’s at home—which is an awful lot, given that he’s unemployed. But moving requires money, and Jeongin has been doing his best not to think about money this summer. He’s been telling himself it’s not that bad. He can handle a little PDA. He can handle his best friends coupling up, probably starting their big adult life together soon and leaving Jeongin in the dust behind them, a fading memory of a college friendship that they look back fondly on whenever they remember he exists.

And then his card gets declined.

Jeongin sprawls out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Divine intervention is what he needs. He doesn’t think God usually gets people jobs, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. He should go to church with his mom the next time he visits home. She’ll have to buy my train ticket, he thinks, sullenly.

He digs his phone out of his pocket and opens Instagram, ready to lock in for a few hours of mindless scrolling. He has a few DM notifications, and goes to check them. Two reels from Felix—he’ll watch in a minute—and…

That’s weird. He has a message from Hwang Hyunjin, someone he doesn’t think he’s interacted with—on social media or otherwise—in at least five years. He opens the chat to read the message.

hi jeonginnie 🫶 hope you’re doing well. i know it’s been a while. i hope this isn’t weird, but i have a job for you if you’re still looking. big payday. let me know. also, congrats on graduating.

Jeongin stares at the message in utter bewilderment. Does this hacker think he’s stupid? An old friend DMing out of the blue, saying he has some big job opportunity and providing zero details? He’s sure their next message will explain how easy it’ll be to get hired, as soon as he sends over his bank information and routing number. Jeongin almost wants to do it for the bit, just to picture their face when they actually see his account balance. Maybe they could buy themselves some McDonalds.

He scrolls through his phone contacts, seeing if he still has Hyunjin’s number in there somewhere—and he does. Maybe he’ll have changed it since they last talked, but it’s worth a shot.

jeongin
uhhh hey, idk if this is still your number but i think your insta got hacked

He hesitates a moment before adding:

(this is jeongin)

Hyunjin’s response is almost instantaneous, which is a surprise—if Jeongin remembers correctly, he used to be a terrible texter.

hyunjin
?

jeongin
[Screenshot: IMG_7063]
lol

hyunjin
that was me!

Oh. Jeongin is more confused than ever. He and Hyunjin are definitely not friends anymore. They used to be—best friends, in fact. They lived next door to each other for most of middle and high school, and would always take the early morning train together, bickering like sleep-deprived siblings. After school, Jeongin was always at Hyunjin’s house—it was quieter, with no other siblings around, and he had the cutest family dog. 

Hyunjin was older by a few years, and even then was already such a beauty that people would stop them on the street to ask if he had representation. He went off to college when Jeongin was fifteen, and despite his promises to visit, he almost never came home, even for the holidays. His messages became fewer and farther between, until Jeongin stopped hearing from him entirely. It makes sense—he's a big-shot model now, the last Jeongin heard. Some luxury European brand. Hyunjin posts the photoshoot spreads on Instagram, and Jeongin used to dutifully like every picture, until he realized how cringe that probably was. It isn't like Hyunjin wanted to talk to him—he never messaged or anything. Clearly, he outgrew the little hometown kid he used to hang out with after school.

hyunjin
sorry, i know it’s random.
are you still looking?

jeongin
how do you know i need a job

hyunjin
our moms talked…

Of course they did. No longer neighbors, their mothers are still friends. Jeongin is sure his shameful lack of employment is the talk of the concerned-mother-grapevine.

jeongin
perfect

hyunjin
so, are you?

jeongin
i mean yeah

hyunjin
you should take this job. you still like kids, right?

Jeongin studies the text with furrowed brows. He doesn't know how Hyunjin would know this about him. He only recently started toying with the idea of working with kids—as in, post-graduation recently. He hasn’t even told his roommates yet.

jeongin
it’s a teaching job…?

hyunjin
nannying!

Ah. Jeongin knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Nannying is tough work—long, draining hours for little pay, and he doesn’t have a drop of experience. Sure, he looked after his younger brother and his aunt’s kids growing up, but nothing you could tack onto a resume. He would be severely out of his element, overworked, and barely making anything to show for it.

jeongin
idk if that’s what i’m looking for.
i have a degree you know

Hyunjin waits a minute before he starts typing again.

hyunjin
if i offended you jeongin, i’m truly very sorry! i only suggested it because i thought it’d be a good job. the guy is really great, apparently, and i have it on good faith that his daughters are angels. and did i mention he’s loaded? he’ll pay well. 
i think it’s short term. just some after-school care for a few months, something with the mom’s schedule. i didn’t get that many details, but i can get more if you want them.

Multiple daughters? Jeongin’s cousins are all boys. He doesn’t even know what looking after girls would entail. And why does Hyunjin care this much about getting him a job? He feels awkward now, though, like he’s made things uncomfortable for no reason. Hearing Hyunjin out is probably the least he can do. And… okay. He is curious.

jeongin
who even is this guy
does he not know how to make a job posting

hyunjin
you’re the first to know about it! 
he’s a producer, i know that much. the way my friend talks about him, he’s a saint.

jeongin
your friend?

It takes Hyunjin another minute to respond.

hyunjin
well, a guy i kind of know
but i don’t see why he wouldn’t be honest

jeongin
a guy you kind of know

hyunjin
he’s good friends with the dad. they work together. do you want me to tell him you’re interested?

Jeongin doesn’t know what to say. This is not exactly the type of job to write home about. And the whole situation seems weird—this guy is a friend of some friend-or-possibly-not-friend of Hyunjin’s, who Jeongin barely even knows anymore. Who’s to say he’s really a saint? What if he’s an asshole, or a creep? What if there is no job, and this is all just some big prank they’re playing on Jeongin together?

If divine intervention exists though—this would be it, right? Is this not exactly what he wanted, for something to fall into his lap to circumvent his apparently pathological inability to get his life started on his own?

Something clatters to the floor in the living room—to Jeongin’s ears, maybe a mug getting knocked off the coffee table. He hears hushed voices, another soft thump. Felix’s low laugh. He pictures the rest of his evening holed up in here, his headphones’ volume up loud enough to do permanent damage to his hearing.

Fuck it. He responds before he can think better of it. 

jeongin
sure. tell him i want the job