Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jisung was raised with Catholic values.

His parents have somewhat strict rules about sex before marriage, attend church every Sunday, and always emphasize that Jisung and his brother, Jeongin, must respect them.

Jeongin has always known how to separate what he heard at home from the rest of the world. He always knew that the things learned as kids don’t dictate how they should actually live, and that the world is much bigger than that. However, it’s not the same with Jisung.

He’s not very religious; in fact, sometimes, when he feels a bit rebellious, he skips Sunday mass. His parents can’t find out, of course. He transferred to the same college as Jeongin three weeks ago and, on one Sunday, was too tired to go, so he decided to skip.

"You should come with me," Jeongin says. He changes once again from one black tank top to another black tank top. "Everyone is bugging me to meet you."

Jisung lifts his gaze from his phone and looks at Jeongin’s clothes. The chains on his pants definitely give a different touch, just like Jeongin said they would when he ordered them online. He shrugs and looks back at his phone’s notes app, pretending to be doing something important.

"Why do your friends want to meet me so badly?" Jisung feigns disinterest.

Jeongin huffs.

"Because they think I made you up."

"And how do you know you didn’t make me up?" Jisung teases.

Jeongin grabs the phone from his hand, finally making Jisung look him in the eyes. He tries to protest, but his older brother has raised eyebrows, and his thumb presses hard on the screen so that Jisung can’t pull it back.

"You’re going."

"You’re already lucky enough that I haven’t told our parents what you’ve been doing since you moved to campus."

Jeongin puts Jisung’s phone in a drawer, locks it with a small key, and puts it in his pocket.

"This must be some kind of crime... It must be!" Jisung gets up from the bed, but Jeongin blocks his way.

"Go take a shower and get ready. After all that, I’ll give it back to you when we’re going to the party."

Jisung throws himself back, making a dramatic fall onto the bed. He hates that Jeongin has been trying since day one to make him disobey every single thing he learned.

Their parents aren’t the most fervent religious people, but they like order and the appreciation of good manners. So for Jisung, the mere fact that Jeongin has some eyeliner smudged at the corner of his eyes is something he should kneel and ask forgiveness for.

And Jisung tried to make him see reason during the first two weeks, but it never worked: it just made his brother come back later and drunker to the dormitory.

Although Jisung didn’t expect Jeongin to continue following Christian values, he never imagined his brother would be a completely different person from who he was at their parents’ house. Apparently, everyone on campus knows him, and surprisingly, they seem to like him.

Jisung gets out of the shower and puts on the clothes he wants, ignoring his brother’s choices. Jeongin had left clothes similar to what he was wearing, but Jisung prefers his usual sweatshirt, taking advantage of the slightly cold night. Jeongin insists on doing a smoky eye on him too, but Jisung refuses, saying it’s something for girls and even insults Jeongin’s makeup.

“Jisung...” Jeongin says, using his tone of reprimand. “Can you please not say those things in front of my friends?”

Jisung shoves his hands into the sweatshirt pockets, already stressed.

“Why?” Jisung asks.

“Because this isn’t our parents’ house. People don’t like that shit.” Jeongin heads toward the dormitory door. “And I don’t agree with it either. Just don’t get yourself in trouble, okay?”

Jisung nods, even though he disagrees with his brother.

The walk to the frat house isn’t long. It would’ve been faster if Jisung hadn’t been walking slowly just to buy more time away from other people, who were probably already drunk. Jeongin explains a few things Jisung shouldn’t do, and it annoys him. Why is Jeongin taking him if he can’t be who he really is?

Jisung, despite being considered “closed-minded” by his brother, knows how to behave around people. His parents, on the other hand, are born judges. Any friendship that could lead them to break the three core principles of the house was banned after a second visit and erased from the boys’ lives.

Jisung isn’t like that. At least not under normal conditions.

When they turned the corner, they could already hear the music coming from the house. It was a bit muffled, but it was definitely a party. Jeongin smiled widely, and Jisung rolled his eyes, biting his own cheek. This definitely wasn’t his kind of place.

The door was open, and Jisung pulled his coat tighter as he entered behind Jeongin. The music was awful, the people were drunker than Jisung expected, and there was no shame in dragging someone into an obscene kiss with many hands in the middle of the room.

“Jeongin...” Jisung stood behind his brother. “Is this the right place?”

Jeongin nodded.

“Cool, right?” Jeongin replied, enthusiastic. “Want something to drink?”

Jisung shook his head, but his brother handed him a cup anyway. He silently mouthed “soda,” so Jisung decided to accept it just to avoid having empty hands. Everyone greeted Jeongin, and Jisung had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes every two minutes. It was annoying. Having Jeongin as his older brother had become annoying ever since he became just an extension of him.

They grew up together and used to be inseparable until Jeongin started having his own life. Jisung was like an appendix — useless. That was why he chose the farthest college he could think of that was still in Korea so he could visit his parents every weekend in Gangneung. However, he had to transfer for personal reasons.

Jeongin questions him every day, but Jisung, although he loves his brother as much as he hates him, would never say that. Their parents made him promise that subject would never leave the four walls of the dorm. Jisung takes promises very seriously.

“This is Jisung,” Jeongin said, pulling him out of his trance. “Ji, this is Changbin.”

Jisung blinks a few times, swallowing the comment about finally finding someone shorter than him, and decides to lower his head in a formal bow. Changbin does the same but has a playful smile on his lips, as if they didn’t need so many formalities.

“So you exist!” Changbin exclaims excitedly. “Man, everyone’s been wanting to meet you. Jeongin can’t stop talking about this brother who…”

Jeongin pinches Changbin’s bicep, and the man twists in pain. Jisung knows how much his pinch hurts, so he doesn’t question his reaction.

“Where’s everyone?” Jeongin asks, taking a sip of his beer.

“I don’t know... They must be scattered around, but if you’re asking about Hyunjin...” Changbin leans in, as if to tell a secret, but doesn’t whisper. “Second floor.”

Jisung notices how quickly his brother’s face flushes. He can’t figure it out. Although Jeongin talks about college with Jisung, he never goes into detail about each friend, just says he wishes they’d meet, period. So Jisung can’t tell if she is a friend — potentially something more judging by his reaction — or someone Jeongin doesn’t like.

He takes a sip of soda, and then the cup is empty. The anxiety of having nothing in his hand consumes him, and he turns to Jeongin, eyes desperate:

“I need more soda.”

Jeongin looks at the empty cup and smiles.

“Bin, can you take him to the kitchen? I have to handle something and will be right back.”

Changbin gives a crooked smile that Jisung notices way too much for his liking. He nods, and Jeongin disappears without even explaining to his brother.

“Let’s go!” Changbin says enthusiastically.

Jisung sees no other option but to follow him. With Changbin it’s the same thing: everyone greets him wherever he goes, and Jisung doesn’t exist. It’s not like Jisung wants to be seen in a place like that either, but there’s a pain there he never wanted to explore.

They enter the kitchen. Changbin opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of Coke.

“Is it okay to take it without asking the owner of the house?” Jisung asks curiously as Changbin pours the drink.

“I live here,” Changbin replies.

Jisung nods and leans against the sink. He thinks of his mom. She’d say he’s being rude, so he steps away and stands still, as if he doesn’t know what to do with his own body. Changbin hands him the cup and raises an eyebrow before saying:

“You two are different from each other.”

He’d love not to hear that again, but out of politeness, he forces a smile and asks:

“What do you mean?”

Changbin shrugs.

“You hate this place.” He spreads his arms, indicating the whole house. “So why did you come?”

Jisung takes a sip of soda and then looks back at Changbin.

“Hyung insisted. He probably just wants someone to carry him drunk to the dorm, I don’t know.”

Changbin laughs.

“I don’t think he’s going to the dorm tonight, Jisung.” Changbin’s tone is strange. It’s like everyone is laughing at the same joke, one Jisung doesn’t know, and he stands there like a fool waiting for someone to explain it to him.

Jisung is about to ask when Changbin’s phone rings. The man fumbles through his pockets until he finally finds where he left the device. He asks Jisung’s permission and leaves the kitchen. Great… alone again.

He keeps thinking about what Changbin told him as he walks around the fraternity house, deciding to explore the backyard. There’s a pool no one is using, which makes Jisung curious because even though he doesn’t know much about parties, he knows a drunk person would love to jump in there.

Jeongin probably stays at parties until dawn, and that’s why Changbin said what he did. That’s the conclusion Jisung reaches after a few minutes of pacing back and forth. He’s bored, so it’s the only thing he can think about. Maybe he should call his friend he left at the other college. Would he answer? He bets not.

But when he lies down at the edge of the pool, he searches for his name in the contact list anyway.

Jisung hears the annoying ringing sound — over and over again. His heart tightens, and this is another feeling he can’t name.

“Damn, Seungmin...” Jisung mutters, knowing he shouldn’t say things like that but thinking worse words.

Jisung is so busy grumbling at the phone he doesn’t hear someone walking toward him, crushing the grass in the yard.

“The pool is off-limits,” a stranger says, interrupting Jisung’s nervous outburst.

The shock makes him almost fall into the pool, but he feels his torso suspended in the air as his wrist is held by the stranger’s fingers. He blinks a few times, wondering if his phone fell on the grass.

The guy pulls him away, making Jisung drag himself off the edge but not really stand up. Jisung grabs his arm and looks for the phone on the grass. The call must have gone to voicemail, so he only bothers to lock the phone.

“Who said I want to jump in this filth?” Jisung says angrily, wiping his palms on his jeans.

Jisung watches the guy but decides to stay sitting cross-legged on the grass. He doesn’t want to go back to the party before necessary. Maybe he should leave without Jeongin.

“Want to walk then?” the guy suggests.

Jisung stares at him, confused. The last thing he wants is to walk around with someone he barely knows. That must have been clear to the guy, who lets out a brief laugh.

“I don’t bite.”

That’s what someone who bites would say. Jisung thinks, but the words die in his throat. He really wished Seungmin had answered, even if it was just to curse him.

“I don’t want to walk.”

“The pool really is off-limits, so you don’t have a choice,” the stranger replies.

Jisung finds the obsession with the pool strange. Who cares about a pool? Is it that important? He gets up because, despite everything, he always follows the rules, no matter how crazy they are.

However, when the guy starts walking toward the street, Jisung follows him slowly, keeping a safe distance. It really feels like he bites, and Jisung is just waiting.

It’s kind of like something Seungmin would do.

“I know everyone... How come I don’t know you?” the stranger’s voice is drawn out, teasing Jisung’s gut.

“I don’t want to talk. We’re going to walk, that’s all.”

The stranger laughs but doesn’t argue. Jisung soon keeps pace, staying by his side this time. He puts his hands in his pockets and feels sad for not bringing his soda with him. It would be a good distraction.

The streets are lit up, quite different from what Jisung is used to in his hometown. Although he had started studying economics near Seoul, he didn’t go out at night, just stayed in his dorm talking to Kim Seungmin until bedtime.

The nights were peaceful before everything. Jisung misses that, but not more than he feels disgust. If only he could talk to his friend, maybe he could figure things out.

“I can’t believe it...” Jisung puts his hand to his mouth, shocked. “This flavor finally came back.”

The stranger raises an eyebrow and looks toward where Jisung is staring. The 24-hour convenience store light reflects on Jisung’s face.

“They’ve been out of this flavor for ages...” Jisung explains, heading for the door.

“No, actually, It’s been here for months,” the stranger retorts.

Jisung searches the freezer until he finally grabs the popsicle.

“Not where I lived.”

He heads to the checkout, but the stranger leaves the convenience store, and Jisung feels that nameless feeling in his chest again. So many emotions without names. He’s been feeling this often, and maybe it’s loneliness. Jisung has noticed that, despite isolating himself, he misses someone. A friend. Seungmin.

When he leaves the store, the stranger is sitting on the sidewalk. Jisung tries not to sigh so as not to reveal any of his emotions to the guy. He sits next to him but doesn’t turn his face at all. Jisung hasn’t stopped to analyze his face anyway — he’s not interested.

The wasabi popsicle melts on Jisung’s tongue, and he moans with the spiciness invading his muscles. The man turns to him with a smile on his lips, simple and subtle.

“You’re really having an orgasm with a wasabi popsicle?”

Jisung’s face heats up from embarrassment. He turns to the guy for the first time but didn’t expect the other to already be staring at him. Despite the playful smile on his lips, his eyes don’t seem to be mocking Jisung.

“I like this flavor.”

“I prefer strawberry.”

“Of course, you must live in the sameness of popsicles. Let me guess, your second favorite flavor is chocolate, right?” Jisung no longer tries to pretend he didn’t feel judged.

The guy laughs again.

“And then cream.”

“See?” Jisung points a finger right at the stranger’s face. “Predictable!”

Jisung keeps sucking on the popsicle but feels watched. Suddenly, having the guy watch him while doing this becomes... different. He feels strange but not uncomfortable, just embarrassed. Like he’s doing something wrong.

The guy tilts his head forward a little, looking at Jisung over his eyebrows. Jisung is sure he looks like an idiot, with the light green liquid dripping from his lips down to his chin. He’s not usually that clumsy, but having someone watch his every move makes him this way.

He never realized that sucking a popsicle while someone watches is so weird.

“Is it really that good?” the guy asks, one eyebrow raised.

Jisung nods and finishes the popsicle. They remain in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes that feel like hours.

“I think we should go back,” Jisung finally says.

For some reason, he doesn’t want to leave. Maybe he should do what Jeongin said — try to meet some people, even if they’re not of good character. He knows he needs someone at college to fill the emptiness in his chest. Hopefully, he’ll find people who think like him, who are more interested in actually graduating than the obscene college experiences.

See, despite everything, Jisung isn’t a complete puritan.

He tries not to swear too much. When he gets hurt, he can’t control himself. He doesn’t masturbate that much. He has a set day in the week ever since Kim Seungmin told him it wasn’t healthy to think of national catastrophes to get turned on, so for the sake of health, Han Jisung masturbates sometimes.

He never skips Sunday mass because those were always the most important for his parents. He tries to stay as faithful as possible to the things his parents taught him but also recognizes their exaggerations.

Jisung is good at keeping what seems most valuable to the family. Honoring father and mother is the main thing. So when his parents wanted to transfer him closer to his brother, he decided they were right, that it was the correct choice even if he didn’t understand what he had done wrong.

They’re back at the frat house, and this time Jisung leads, feeling a little more excited. This was what he needed: a walk and a wasabi popsicle. He doesn’t look back but knows the guy follows him around the house like he’s lost. Jisung even feels their hands brush, but he doesn’t actually hold it.

That’s good. Jisung hates holding hands. He always thought it was too intimate; his ex-girlfriend always complained they never held hands. I don’t like that much closeness, he explained, but she didn’t understand.

From the top of the stairs, Jisung spots his brother coming down drunk. He stumbles on some steps, but a tall guy keeps his hand on Jeongin’s waist. Jisung recognizes that touch as dangerous, strange, and approaches the two to make sure his brother is okay.

“Ji!” Jeongin shouts and opens his arms to hug Jisung, who greets him with a look of disgust. “You have to meet everyone. Now!”

They break the awkward hug, and the tall guy puts his hand back on Jeongin’s waist. Jisung wants to ask, but the guy interrupts his thoughts.

“Hi, Jisung. I’m Hyunjin!” Hyunjin says, bowing in a formal gesture. “Innie talked a lot about you. I was the only one who really believed you existed.”

Jeongin smiles foolishly at Hyunjin’s joke and then looks back at Jisung. However, Jisung is a little confused, as he has been all night.

Hyunjin is a man.

The person who was on the second floor and Jeongin went after was him. Jisung doesn’t have much time to think because the conversation continues.

“He’s pretty real,” Jeongin says, stating the obvious. “Shall we go down?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, but before he can ask, the two are walking to another corner of the house. The door leads to more stairs going down to the basement. It’s quieter there; actually, only a few people are talking. Only then does Jisung notice that the popsicle guy isn’t behind them. He doesn’t even know when he left.

He decides not to care.

Jisung scans the room, noticing posters of bands, soccer, and various mixed interests all in one place. A huge TV on the wall plays Red Hot Chili Peppers, while two couches and some poufs fill the space. The smell is strong, and Jisung can’t quite place it, but he’s smelled it before, especially when he arrives at the dorm. Jeongin seems to try to cover it up with incense that Jisung hates.

Dumped on the couches and poufs are Changbin and some other guys Jisung doesn’t know. One of them catches Jisung’s attention. He’s blonde, has long hair, and wears makeup much heavier than Jeongin’s. His stomach twists, but he says nothing because his brother asked him not to.

The other guy beside him is different. He’s not as strong as Changbin but still seems to spend a few hours a week at the gym. His hair is messy as if several hands have passed through it. He looks like the type, Jisung concludes.

“Finally showed up,” Changbin says. He sounds annoyed but has a smile on his lips. “People started thinking I joined this collective delirium about Jeongin having a little brother.”

Jisung stomps his foot and crosses his arms under his chest.

“Why does no one believe I exist?” He wouldn’t be upset if this weren’t probably the fifth time they said this tonight.

Everyone starts laughing, including Jeongin. Another joke Jisung feels excluded from. He wishes he had the courage to ask what they’re laughing about but knows it’s not worth trying to fit in with people who only mock his confusion.

“Oh, babe, it’s because Jeonginnie talks so much about your parents it was kind of hard to believe they...”

The blonde guy is interrupted by a strange sound coming from Jeongin’s throat. Jisung is still shocked a voice that deep came from someone so... small?

“Well, these are Felix and Chan...” Jeongin introduces them and points to a spot for his brother to sit. “And, guys, this is Jisung. My little brother who studies economics.”

Felix leans back on the couch. His eyes are shining with curiosity. Now closer, Jisung can see every detail Felix took his time perfecting in front of the mirror. He has a smoky eyeshadow similar to Jeongin’s, his cheeks are unnaturally flushed, and his lips are well moisturized. Jisung swallows hard at the proximity.

“Enjoying it here, Ji?” The deep voice still unsettles him a bit.

Jisung knows his answer should be no but nods anyway. He doesn’t like lies, but that’s mostly what he’s done since transferring.

“You transferred to be close to Jeonginnie?” Felix asks invasively.

The whole room falls silent. Jeongin doesn’t answer because even he doesn’t know the reason for Jisung’s transfer. Everyone watches him closely, sharing the same doubt. It’s not like his old college was bad — it was one of the best in the country despite not being in Seoul.

Before Jisung can make up an excuse, footsteps from the stairs catch his attention. He looks up and sees the same guy from the pool. This time, his face is closed off, but not frightening — just quiet, showing no discomfort.

“Minho!” Jeongin exclaims with a smile. He shakes off Hyunjin and walks up to the guy. “You owe me 5,000 won. This is Jisung, my little brother. Now, hand it over!”

Jisung is stunned when he sees Minho actually give the bills to Jeongin. He looks up and meets Jisung’s perplexed gaze. Minho shrugs and throws himself on the couch.

“So that’s why you insisted I come?” Jisung asks his brother. He holds back tears because he knows he’d look like an idiot if he cried. It’s not something he should do in front of people.

Jeongin widens his eyes, a little offended.

“Of course not!” Jeongin defends himself. “I really wanted to introduce you. You were just talking to the books... I got worried!”

Jisung rolls his eyes. Of course, Jeongin called him just not to lose a measly 5,000 won. That’s okay — he can accept that. What he can’t accept is that his brother isn’t honest. Maybe he only went to help him with that damn bet.

“Hum...” Jisung mumbles quietly, not wanting to draw attention.

In just a few minutes, Jisung decides he hates everyone.

They haven’t really done anything to him. The only thing that truly annoys him is how they always include Jisung in the conversation only when they notice he hasn’t spoken for a while. It’s automatic, like every ten minutes an alarm goes off and someone says, “What about you, Jisung?” They don’t really want to know, but Jisung can’t blame them. They’re so different. He himself isn’t interested in Chan’s stories about the girl.

Every now and then, he finds himself staring at Minho. It’s involuntary. He doesn’t want to, but he ends up watching him. Of all of them, Minho seems the quietest.

At some point during the conversation, Felix gets up from the couch and sits next to Jisung — way too close. Jisung doesn’t complain but feels his throat tighten. Felix’s perfume is sweeter than any girl’s he’s ever been around. It’s irritating. Maybe Felix is the one he hates the most.

“I also thought about studying economics,” Felix says with a sweet smile.

His parents would hate Felix.

“Really?” Jisung feigns interest.

Felix sits cross-legged facing Jisung. He has the most delicate brown eyes Jisung has ever seen. His hair is in a long braid that falls in front of his chest. His shirt has a front cutout, and the black sleeves stretch from his wrist to just before the middle of his biceps. An interesting choice for a guy.

“Yeah, but my mom encouraged me to do what I really wanted,” Felix laughs. “I’m not talking bad about your degree, Ji, I can see you doing your job well. I just like dance so so much, that I don’t know if I’d be good at anything else.”

Jisung thinks it’s ridiculous. He’d never understand people who follow unrealistic paths. Dreams are dreams for a reason — they weren’t made to be fulfilled. When they are, people get disappointed and have to recalculate their route when they’re older and without opportunities. That’s how he sees things.

“So you dance?” Jisung decides to pretend interest a bit longer since Felix was polite enough to start a conversation.

Felix nods and takes a sip of the blue drink in his cup.

Jisung notices that since Felix sat next to him, Minho has been throwing glances that he can’t figure out. It only gets worse. Every time Felix laughs, every time he accidentally brushes his fingers against Jisung’s thigh and apologizes, saying he’s a little dizzy. And, really, Felix does seem a bit tipsy.

“Give me the cup, Felix,” Jisung orders. Felix pouts, but he takes it from his hands and puts it on the floor.

“You guys are really different, Ji,” Felix holds him by the shoulders. Jisung freezes in place.

He tries to reinforce Jeongin’s words. He wants to push Felix as far away as possible. Who does he think he is invading his space? Felix is crossing all his boundaries. He needs to make it clear to everyone there. He needs to...

“But I see you have something in common...” Felix leans close to his ear.

“What...”

“That’s enough, Lix, let’s go.” Minho pulls his friend away.

Felix is so light that Minho has no trouble pulling him off the couch. The guy stumbles and falls against Minho’s chest. Jisung watches everything without really understanding what’s going on. Minho places his hand on Felix’s lower back and whispers something to him. Felix nods.

Jisung’s heart races, and he knows it could break through his flesh and ribs at any moment. It’s so loud that Jisung wonders how no one else there is hearing it.

“Ji?” He hears Jeongin calling, but the voice sounds distant.

Minho goes up the stairs with Felix, and Jisung still seems a little confused. Was Felix flirting with him? What the hell was that? What was Felix implying? His blood is hotter than ever; he can feel it moving through his veins. It’s the first time he’s been aware of so much at once. How did he dare offer himself to him? A man? 

“Ji, are you okay?” Jeongin insists.

Jisung stands up abruptly. Jeongin gets startled, and everyone else looks at him. Jeongin calls him again, trying to understand what happened. Jisung doesn’t even turn to explain to his brother. His body stops on the stairs before climbing the steps, and then his voice comes out cold:

“I’m leaving, Jeongin.”

Chapter Text

The pen cap is being completely mistreated. Jisung, unconsciously, holds it between his teeth while staring at the notebook filled with notes he took during class. To anyone watching, he might look focused, but his thoughts are elsewhere. 

Felix flirted with him. Now he’s sure of it, because the first thing he did when he got back to the dorm was check Felix’s Instagram. There were a few things there that gave away his sexuality, one of them being a photo with the bisexual flag at a festival. You didn’t have to be very smart to figure it out.

At first, Jisung didn’t even know which sexuality it was, so he found himself opening an incognito tab on his phone to look up the different flags of the queer community. He felt bad for searching, but he was curious too.

When he found out Felix was bisexual, Jisung wanted to laugh.

He couldn’t picture someone as effeminate as Felix being with a girl. He didn’t know how things worked for him, or if it was just some label to wear around and brag about being modern. That’s how his parents called it: people giving in to sin because of modernity and the distance from religion.

That night, he went past his daily goal of Bible reading and study. Something his father always recommended whenever he felt more distant from God.

“Did the pen do something to you?” Jisung hears a familiar whisper right behind his ear.

He rolls his eyes and pulls the pen from his mouth, tossing it onto the table.

“Decided to study for once?” Jisung asks.

Jeongin shrugs and smiles. He doesn’t sit down, just stands there holding the straps of his backpack in front of him.

“As if…” Jeongin says a little louder, and the librarian shushes him. “My bad.”

Jisung closes the notebook, giving up on studying while his brother is there. It’s not like he was making any progress anyway.

“Let’s go get something at that café,” Jeongin says. “My treat.”

“It’s our parents’ card.”

“Fine, they’ll pay. But who cares, right?”

Jisung gives in, because he knows he won’t study even if Jeongin leaves. While he packs his things, Jeongin plays on his phone, letting out a few chuckles that earn him a sharp look from the librarian.

On the way there, Jeongin doesn’t stop talking. Jisung just nods at everything, not really absorbing any of it. His mind is busy drifting between thoughts of Felix, bisexuality, and why the hell his brother refuses to leave his side.

They used to be closer once, but then life happened. So Jisung has a hard time understanding Jeongin’s motives. Maybe their parents told him to make sure his brother fit in, since he’d lost the friends he made at his old college. Of course, he wouldn’t ask. It was humiliating enough to have Jeongin dragging him around like a dog.

“Do you want a cupcake too?” Jeongin asks when they’re already at the café counter, placing their orders.

Jisung shakes his head, and they wait for the tray to be ready before sitting down. Jeongin drops his backpack onto the floor, while Jisung carefully hangs his on the back of the chair. Even in that, they’re different.

“Hyung…”

“What?”

Jisung rests his forearms on the table, leaning forward.

“What are you doing?” Jisung’s tone is accusatory. That’s his intention, but Jeongin doesn’t seem bothered.

Jeongin takes a sip of coffee and only answers afterward:

“Spending time with my brother, duh.”

“Hyung…”

Jeongin smiles, knowing he’s been caught. He tilts his head to the side, pretending to be embarrassed about not hiding it better.

“They’re paying you?”

“What? No, of course not!” Jeongin looks offended. “They’re just worried, but no one wants to tell me what happened, so I’m left in the dark, Ji. Even with your stiff attitude.”

Jisung sighs and steals his brother’s cupcake, earning a disapproving sound, but he doesn’t care.

“Nothing happened… I just snapped,” Jisung says, simply.

In part, it’s true. Jisung had an episode at college — something very unusual for him. Jisung, who always listened to his parents, never skipped responsibilities, worked hard for good grades, never missed the church’s charity events in his hometown, and even made frequent donations.

So how could someone so collected have had an episode?

“People don’t just snap for nothing, Ji… Look, I know it’s hard to prioritize what you feel with all that nonsense that old man—”

“Hyung,” Jisung cuts him off. “I know you don’t believe in these things, but our house has a hierarchy. Respect our father, and the things he believes. He’s paying for the coffee you’re drinking right now.”

Jeongin laughs, but it’s dry, humorless. He looks disbelieving at what he’s hearing. His brows furrow, his expression laced with concern.

“Ji… Do you believe?”

It isn’t the first time Jeongin asks Jisung that question.

Jisung remembers the first time he questioned religion. He was seven, and Jeongin was nine. They had just lost Uncle Jun — their first real encounter with death. Before that, they had only experienced the loss of distant relatives, whose names they only knew when their parents answered the phone by the television.

“Hyung, do you think Uncle Jun will remember us in heaven?” Jisung asked, rubbing his cheeks, trying to wipe away his tears.

They were on their grandparents’ porch. Gangneung, washed by the sea, seemed even more melancholic. Everyone close had gathered there after the official funeral. The adults tried to stay calm despite the early loss of Uncle Jun at just nineteen, their mother’s youngest brother. But it was an unusual calm; they whispered, as if the children couldn’t know.

“Uncle Jun is in a jar, Ji. He’s not going anywhere,” Jeongin answered, resting his chin on his arms folded over his knees. The wind blew across his face, and Jeongin knew he would never believe in anything again.

Jisung cried the whole night, imagining Uncle Jun trapped in a jar.

And he cried for many more nights when, two years later, Jeongin explained that Uncle Jun had taken his own life.

“I do believe,” Jisung shoots back, defensive.

Jeongin raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not asking if you’re scared, I’m asking if you believe.” Jeongin’s voice is firm, shaking Jisung for half a second.

“Hyung, do you really want to go through this again?” Jisung sounds tired of the subject.

“You think I’m attacking you, Ji, but I just want to show you that following something out of fear isn’t a good reason to believe…”

Jisung grips the table so tightly that his fingertips go numb.

“Jeongin,” Jisung calls him by his name, making Jeongin tense up, his posture faltering. “Just because you have reasons to be afraid doesn’t mean I do.”

Jeongin nods, a tense line forming on his forehead.

“And I have reasons?”

The question takes Jisung by surprise. Jeongin doesn’t look sad; his curiosity is genuine. He wants Jisung to say what he thinks, to explain what would make him not belong in the same place as him and their parents. He wants to know if his brother condemns him too — and why.

Jisung bites his tongue and swallows the words. Even though he doesn’t agree with the path Jeongin took from childhood to young adulthood, Jisung loves him too much to throw him in the same place he would throw everyone else who chose to live in sin. That is his flaw, and maybe his greatest virtue.

“Don’t come home late today, okay?” Jisung stands, grabs his backpack, and swings it over his shoulders. “Every time you open the door, I wake up and can’t go back to sleep.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. He doesn’t know if Jeongin answered, and he doesn’t want to. Sometimes ignorance really is a blessing.

∘₊✧††† Miserere mei, Deus †††✧₊∘

Sunday arrives, and Jeongin still hasn’t shown up at the dorm in three days.

After mass, Jisung decides to stop by the café he went to with Jeongin to grab a coffee and bring back a cupcake as an apology. This time he’s really hopeful he’ll see his brother sprawled on the bed, scrolling on his phone.

On Sundays, the campus is completely empty. Jisung enjoys the peace of walking back to the dorm in quiet, with no chance of running into any of his brother’s friends. He’s met almost all of them, except the ones he’s been most avoiding.

Jisung has a theory. A big one.

Minho had pulled Felix away when the boy was awkwardly flirting, and dragged him off. And Jisung hated himself for thinking about it so much, because it shouldn’t occupy his mind like that. It’s bad enough knowing a man flirted with him and he did nothing about it.

But still, his thoughts drifted for a while. They’re in a relationship. That hypothesis had been rejected more than once, because he didn’t think Minho looked gay. Jisung would know, wouldn’t he? You didn’t have to be close to someone — just look at them and you’d know. He wasn’t flamboyant, didn’t have a high-pitched voice — Felix only broke the rule in one category for Jisung— he didn’t wear makeup or use gay slang. It was normal that Jisung had been mistaken, that he hadn’t realized what kind of person Minho was.

Jisung arrives at the dorm, but Jeongin isn’t there. He puts the cupcake in the fridge and gets ready to shower. He’s frustrated at not having received even a single text from his brother. Even mad, Jeongin should’ve been responsible enough to let him know where he was. On the phone the night before, Jisung had to lie to their father, saying Jeongin was already asleep because he was studying too much. Jisung doesn’t even know if Jeongin has opened a book since classes started again.

Jeongin’s silence weighs heavy on him. His shoulders feel burdened more than usual. Jisung knows his situation with Jeongin will pass, that it isn’t permanent, but the moment reminds him of Kim Seungmin, who hasn’t replied to him in weeks.

Jisung is surprised he hasn’t been blocked.

With a towel around his waist and another draped around his neck, Jisung leaves the bathroom after hearing noises in the room.

“About time…”

His words hang in the air when he realizes the person there isn’t his brother, but Minho. His face shows clear confusion, his body freezing in place.

“Oh, hey,” Minho says casually. “Do you know where Jeongin’s laptop charger is?”

Jisung turns his back, embarrassed. The images he’d fantasized about Felix and Minho flash through his mind uninvited. He’s sure his cheeks are red, and it’s important Minho doesn’t see him like this.

“What are you doing here?” Jisung asks sharply.

“Uh… grabbing some stuff for Jeongin?” Minho answers, sounding a little bored. “Do you know where it is?”

Jisung takes a deep breath but still keeps his back to Minho.

“And why doesn’t he come get it himself?” Jisung knows Minho isn’t to blame for his fight with his brother, but it’s still easy to unload it all on a stranger.

“I asked him that, you know? But he gave me like a thousand reasons, all of them about you being an asshole… You really messed up, huh, Ji?” Minho teases as he pulls open the desk drawers. “Found it!”

Jisung clenches his fists and turns, his cheeks burning even redder with anger.

“You have nothing to do with this,” Jisung says, trying to sound confident.

Minho laughs.

“True, but you asked, and I answered, didn’t I, your majesty?” Minho is playing with him. He doesn’t seem to take Jisung very seriously, and that only makes him more annoyed.

Jisung walks toward him, pointing a finger in his face.

“Look here, I—”

Flop.

Suddenly, Jisung feels the air grow colder, more exposed. The towel is at his feet. He doesn’t react as quickly as he’d like. His face is probably much hotter now, but honestly, Jisung can’t even feel it anymore.

“No dinner first?” Minho teases, pushing his tongue against his cheek in a smug expression.

Jisung knows he’s looking.

When he comes to his senses, he bends down and grabs the towel to cover himself again. He can’t look Minho in the eyes. He can already imagine Minho’s expression, entertained at his expense.

But he doesn’t know Jisung is focusing on national catastrophes.

“C-could you… leave, please?” Jisung says, staring at the floor.

Minho nods, but Jisung doesn’t see it — he’s too busy counting his toes over and over.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Jisung, relax,” Minho tries to reassure him while stuffing the charger into Jeongin’s backpack.

Jisung finally looks at him, lips in a pout, thinking the comment completely inappropriate. He doesn’t know if he could get any redder.

“I mean… I’ve got one too, right?” Minho adds, with an awkward laugh.

National catastrophes. Minho and Felix. Felix and Minho. Minho and Felix. National catastrophes. National catastrophes. National catastrophes. Catastrophes and Minho. Felix and Minho. National catastrophes. Minho and me.

“Get out.” Jisung clutches the towel fabric between his fingers. His hair is dripping onto the floor.

“Alright.”

Even after closing the door, Jisung can’t tell if he’d spoken harshly enough to crack Minho’s shell. He didn’t see his face, didn’t know if he understood. Not that it should matter.

That night, Jisung looks for a documentary about the animal kingdom, because he’s tired of dealing with everything else.

∘₊✧††† Miserere mei, Deus †††✧₊∘

“You’ve reached Kiminnie, but I can’t take your call right now. Please leave your message after the beep.”

Jisung feels like throwing his phone at the wall when the call goes to voicemail again. He hasn’t spoken to another human being since Minho’s visit to his dorm and feels like he’s going insane. Even though he promised his parents he wouldn’t contact Seungmin, this is one of the promises he most wishes to break.

The dorm door makes a noise, and he sits up, hopeful that it’s his brother — only to see Felix and Minho. How many people have a key to this dorm? Jisung wonders.

“Oh! Hey, Ji,” Felix greets cheerfully.

Jisung sits on the bed, straightening up, trying to ignore all the thoughts of the past few days piling up. Minho says nothing, just stands behind Felix like some kind of bodyguard.

“Hi,” he replies, with little interest.

Still, he is interested — in why Minho has the most bored expression on the planet, like talking to him is the worst thing in the world.

“Have you talked to Jeongin?” Felix asks, shyly.

Jisung holds himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Do I really need to answer that?” Jisung snaps, and that finally makes Minho react. He glares at him like he could attack just for talking to Felix that way. Disgusting fags.

“We’re worried, you know? I think he’s waiting for you to go after him,” Felix continues, trying not to be affected by the harshness. “And he seems really bad this time, Ji.”

Jisung crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow. Why is that his problem? Jeongin is an adult, perfectly capable of handling his own feelings in a mature way without vanishing from everyone’s life.

It isn’t normal for him to go this long without talking to Jisung, but eventually, he has to come back, because family is sacred. Maybe that’s the reason he’s so distant — there’s no faith.

“I don’t think that has anything to do with me, Felix,” Jisung says, unwilling to give in.

Felix is about to argue again when Minho steps out from behind him and yanks Jisung up by the collar of his shirt, lifting him. Jisung’s eyes go wide, his breath caught in his throat, and he feels a little suffocated.

“Listen here, Jisung, I don’t usually lose my patience, but this shitty attitude of yours isn’t helping at all,” Minho spits. “Your brother is a good person, and I don’t know what happened between you two, but fix this shit before I drag you to that damn fraternity myself and make you get on your knees to beg for forgiveness.”

Jisung blinks frantically, shocked by Minho’s words, by the pressure of his fingers ruining the fabric of his shirt, by the rage painted in his eyes. His lips part, but no words come out — too scared to react with his usual petulance.

“Min… You don’t nee—”

“Fine,” Jisung says, recovering from the shock. He smirks, raising a brow. “Now get your filthy hands off me.”

Minho lets go of Jisung’s shirt.

“That was easy, wasn’t it?” Minho asks. “Put your shoes on. We’re going.”

People like Minho confuse him. Judging by the bored look, the quiet way he carries himself, the short answers, Jisung expected him to simply leave — that he wouldn’t care about how Jeongin feels. As irritated as he is, he’s also impressed by the way Minho protected his brother, when not even Jisung himself cares that much.

He does love Jeongin, truly. But there’s this bitter feeling crawling under his skin whenever his values are questioned. Jeongin doesn’t believe in Jisung’s freedom of speech, because he thinks it’s fabricated. And if he refuses to respect him, Jisung won’t respect him either.

During the day, the frat house is different from what Jisung expected — bright, tidy, clean, and almost homely. One of the guys is sprawled on the couch, a cap over his face, dozing off as if it weren’t two in the afternoon. Minho leads him upstairs, strolling through the hallway calmly, not saying another word.

Felix says he’ll grab his backpack from the room because he has class soon, leaving the two alone. Minho stops in front of a door with a little sign that reads Hyunjin and knocks.

No one answers, but they hear the slow shuffle of feet dragging across the floor. When the door opens, Jeongin looks… awful. Minho’s eyes widen — clearly he didn’t expect him to be the one answering, but Hyunjin instead.

Jisung is confused. Jeongin’s hair is messy, his dark circles deep, his lips dry, and his eyelids slightly swollen — though it looks like he’s recovering.

“What are you doing here?” Jeongin asks, harsh, ignoring Minho.

Jisung looks at Minho, who just returns the stare, silent, before turning his attention back to Jeongin.

“Can we talk, hyung?” Jisung asks nervously, fiddling with his fingers, trying to distract himself from the tense conversation.

Jeongin glances over his shoulder, as if checking something. Jisung doesn’t like to snoop, but takes the chance to discreetly stand on his tiptoes and peek through the gap of the door — Hyunjin sleeps peacefully, half tangled in the sheets.

“Is your room free, hyung?” Jeongin directs the question to Minho, who nods. “Let’s talk there.”

Minho doesn’t follow them — Jeongin obviously knows where his room is. He opens the door and lets Jisung in before closing it behind them.

Jisung shouldn’t, but he gets distracted analyzing Minho’s room. It looks like him — dark walls, a few posters of games and anime, books stacked on a small black shelf in the corner, dark bedding, four pillows.

It’s a completely normal room. You wouldn’t think it belonged to someone who likes men, because it’s so… masculine. Okay, maybe that’s not the best word, but it’s definitely not what he imagines for a gay guy.

“What do you want to talk about?” Jeongin asks, pulling Jisung out of his daze. His arms are crossed, his lips pressed in a tense line.

Jisung clears his throat, resting a hand on a wooden dresser.

“I think I said something to you that I shouldn’t have,” Jisung says, staring at the floor, embarrassed.

“You think?” Jeongin asks through gritted teeth. “You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, Jisung.”

Jisung takes a deep breath, feeling trapped.

“Actually, I can’t agree with you, hyung, and I know that’s frustrating, because I feel the same way,” Jisung tries a different approach. “But I’d rather put my pride aside, apologize, and try not to hurt you again, because I don’t like it when we fight.”

“…but fix this shit before I drag you to that damn fraternity myself and put you on your knees to beg for forgiveness.” Minho’s words echo in his mind.

He wouldn’t have gone after Jeongin if he hadn’t been threatened, but standing in front of him now — so sensitive, so broken — makes him want to apologize not just for the last week, but for the last years. Maybe even for the same apologies stuck in his throat that he also owes Kim Seungmin.

As much as he’s bothered by the distance between them, Jisung allows himself to miss when they were still good brothers — when people still saw them as a pair. Now, they’re too different to be brothers, too similar to be just relatives. It’s like they’ve created a new family category: the kind where, one day, you know everything about someone… and the next, you know nothing at all.

“I don’t want you to agree with me, Jisung…” Jeongin massages his temples, exhaling loudly. “I just don’t want to feel like you see me as a bad person for the decisions I’ve made and for who I am.”

Jeongin couldn’t be vaguer. Still, whenever their conversations turn vague, Jisung never questions, only nods, because he doesn’t want to know more. He can’t explain — he just lets things go with an almost sincere apology.

“I’m sorry, hyung… I’ll be more careful with my words.” Jisung thinks that’s the best he can offer. He can’t promise to change what he believes, but he can control what he says.

Jeongin nods, still a little strange and distant.

“I don’t know if you get it, but you’ve always been kind of empty-headed, haven’t you, little bro?” Despite his light tone, Jeongin’s gaze is lost. “Maybe I overreacted a bit. I’m sorry, Jisungie.”

They don’t hug. Jisung just nods and smiles — an automatic, slightly forced smile. Jeongin walks past him, and Jisung knows he’s only heading to the door to leave.

“I promise I won’t be late coming back to the dorm tonight,” Jeongin says, patting Jisung’s shoulder before stepping out of the room.

Jisung only realizes he’s been holding his breath when Jeongin leaves and he finally exhales. His body feels like it could collapse at any moment. He always feels like this after cryptic conversations with his brother.

The door opens and he startles, clutching his chest, squeezing the fabric as if afraid his heart might escape.

“He left less tense than he came in…” Minho says, running a hand through Jisung’s hair, messing it up. “Good job, Sungie.”

Jisung’s eyes widen at the nickname and the sudden contact. He quickly pulls away as images of Minho and Felix flash through his mind. Minho isn’t fazed — he just smiles, pulling his hand back.

“Not so grumpy anymore?” Jisung asks, suspicious.

Minho shrugs.

“Hyunjin told me you’d only come if I was firm with you… So that’s what I did.”

“And since when does Hyunjin know me?”

“He knows your brother very well,” Minho replies, like it’s obvious. “Now you’re free to go. Or are you planning on staying in my room for my Thursday night jerk-off session?”

Jisung’s face burns red and in seconds his mind drags him to horrible places. He digs his nails into his jeans, wishing they’d pierce through the fabric to ground him — but they don’t.

“You’re so disgusting sometimes.”

Minho laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m joking, Sungie. I like teasing you.” Minho steps closer, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Jisung should leave, but his feet are glued to the floor, as if he were a tree — roots holding him in place. The air feels hotter, thick enough to knock him down.

“Why?” Jisung surprises himself for not stuttering, even though he feels so nervous he could throw up.

Minho leans in, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. His mouth nears Jisung’s ear, one hand pressing down on his shoulder, and he whispers:

“Because I like seeing how red I can make you.”

Click.

The sound comes from the door behind Jisung. He’s still trying to recover, trying to steady his breathing, when Minho tilts his head toward it.

“Bye, Jisung.” Minho dismisses him with a demonic smile on his lips.

Chapter Text

“Yes, hyung is coming with me…” Jisung lies, already planning to make Jeongin pay for it. “I made a friend in applied statistics, did I tell you about him?” He tries to change the subject while Jeongin laughs with his mouth full of Pringles.

“And is he a good influence, Jisung?” his father asks in that authoritarian tone, the only one he has.

Jisung holds back the urge to roll his eyes. Why would he tell his father if he wasn’t? Maybe he’s still a little bitter about Seungmin.

“Yes, he’s Catholic too, and his parents are, like, very well known in the church I go to here.” Jisung lies again. He’s hated that the incident at his previous college has turned him into a machine of lies.

To be honest, Jisung despises the people at the new church. Since it’s a bigger city, he can’t help but feel that everyone is there just for appearances, and it deeply annoys him. He grew up going with his parents and his brother to a small church in Gangneung: people there were honest, they didn’t gossip, they didn’t chase excessive wealth. They seemed to actually follow the teachings.

At least that’s how Jisung remembers it.

For him, church had been a refuge for a long time — he made friends, went on retreats, learned. Now, he feels that things don’t make sense anymore, and he can’t understand why. That doesn’t stop him from reading before bed, from praying, from connecting with God, but the church… it’s no longer as welcoming as it was in Gangneung with his parents.

After a few more minutes of his father’s lecture — why don’t you two come visit us next week? Is Jeongin leading you astray? Are you still going to confession? — Jisung says goodbye and hangs up.

“Wow, he just doesn’t stop talking, huh?” Jeongin jokes.

Jisung rolls his eyes.

“If you called him once in a while, I wouldn’t have to listen to the sermons meant for YOU.”

It’s interesting how, even growing up in the same house, Jisung and Jeongin couldn’t be more different now. Jeongin managed to break free from their parents’ ideas, developed a free personality, made friends who would never set foot in their parents’ house. Jisung, on the other hand, sank deeper and deeper into their parents’ ideals, even though, sometimes, none of it made sense to him.

Arguing with Jeongin had made him realize that, in some things, his brother was right. Jisung is afraid of certain things — punishment, rejection. And that applies to many aspects of his life. It’s easier to follow the rules, it hurts less.

“I don’t know if I’ll be back tonight, okay?” Jeongin jumps off the bed and digs through a drawer.

Jisung raises a suspicious eyebrow. His brother usually doesn’t warn him, and always tries to drag him to parties. Jisung has declined every single invitation, wanting to avoid Felix as much as possible — and Minho too.

“Party?” he asks, trying not to look that curious.

Jeongin turns to him holding a small box. He shakes his head but doesn’t explain, going back to rummaging through the drawer.

“So, what is it?” Jisung sits cross-legged on the bed.

He knows his own plans for the night are to keep trying to call Kim Seungmin until he falls asleep — because he knows Seungmin won’t answer. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get out of the dorm for a bit, right?

“Just a little meeting at the frat house with the guys you met,” Jeongin explains, stuffing the small box into his backpack. “See you later, Ji.”

Before Jisung can ask anything else, Jeongin slips on his shoes and leaves. For some reason, he didn’t invite Jisung along. Is he really going to the fraternity? Jisung wonders.

Maybe Jeongin just got tired of inviting him, since Jisung always declines. Still, it only makes him more curious that this time he wasn’t asked at all.

Jisung gets up to get ready. It doesn’t take long, since he’s nothing like his brother — just decent clothes are enough for him. Thanks to the last time he was there, he doesn’t need to look up the fraternity’s address.

There’s no muffled music, no open door for strangers, no drunk people staggering on the sidewalk, so Jeongin hadn’t lied about it not being a party. Jisung climbs the steps, his heart racing as he wonders if Felix and Minho will be home.

It’s irritating, because he doesn’t want to see them, not at all. Ever since he realized they had something going on, a sick feeling rises in his throat — he could throw up from the images that come to his mind. It even makes him a little angry to think about how well Minho hides it, never being explicit, making it easy for normal people to approach him, because they don’t know.

Maybe that’s what happened with Jeongin — by the time he noticed, he was already friends with people like Felix and Minho.

He knocks on the door, trying to forget everything his mind has made up. There’s muffled chatter, followed by laughter. Jisung shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling a little embarrassed to be there like a stray kid. Would they think he’s crazy for intruding?

Jisung is willing to be lightly ridiculed if it means not having to hear Seungmin’s voicemail message over and over all night.

The door opens and a strangely familiar smell hits his nose. Felix is standing there — with his bright smile, lips coated with way too much gloss, freckles hidden under makeup.

God, how Jisung hates him.

“Ji!!” Felix says, smiling as if he were his favorite person on the planet. “Jeongin didn’t say you were coming. Come in!”

Jisung only nods without saying a word. The smell grows stronger, and he notices that everyone is gathered in the living room, some sitting on the floor. Jeongin’s head is on Hyunjin’s lap as he laughs at something while… taking a drag from a cigarette?

Not a regular cigarette… a joint.

Someone pats Jeongin’s shoulder, but Jisung is too frozen to notice who it is. His eyes are locked on Jeongin breaking yet another rule. He does it so easily that Jisung can’t tell if it’s courage or stupidity.

“Ji… What are you doing here?” Jeongin shifts, sitting up on the couch. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess.

Jisung opens and closes his mouth a few times, feeling like an idiot. Everyone is watching him with guilty expressions — except Felix, who’s still smiling, and Minho, who looks serious.

“He can come whenever he wants, hyung… I invited him.” Felix runs a hand along Jisung’s back, guiding him to the couch.

He sits down next to Minho, in the only empty spot. Maybe it had been Felix’s before he got there, but it doesn’t matter. Jeongin straightens on the couch, giving his brother a strange look.

It’s not a total surprise, but he hadn’t expected to actually see it. Their parents would die if they knew — he’d be forced to confess. That’s what happened to Jisung, along with the deserved physical punishments.

“Since when…” Jisung starts, but he’s cut off.

“Want some, Jisung?” Minho asks, holding the joint between his fingers.

Every cell in Jisung’s body feels on edge. The audacity of Lee Minho to offer him weed like it was candy… He wishes he could understand how Jeongin ended up with friends like this — the kind who only drag him down, away from family and values.

God, he needs to get out of here.

“Why would I?” Jisung raises an eyebrow, offended by the offer.

Minho smiles, shrugs, but doesn’t reply. He passes it to Changbin, who’s sitting right next to Jisung.

Jeongin looks nervous. Maybe he’s scared Jisung will make a scene and humiliate him in front of his friends. If Jisung didn’t know it would embarrass himself too, he would have done it.

It becomes clearer and clearer why Jeongin has distanced himself from everyone since starting college. Of course, it hadn’t all started there, but it definitely picked up speed once Jeongin left home.

“Have you ever smoked, Ji?” Changbin asks after taking a drag, passing the joint to Felix, who’s sitting on the floor.

Jisung only realizes the question was aimed at him when Minho nudges his knee with his own, pulling him back to reality. He shakes his head, already thinking he just needs to wait a few minutes before faking an emergency and leaving.

“AH! That gives me an idea…” Felix claps his hands. “What if we played ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

“We’re not teenagers anymore, Lix,” Changbin says, laughing at his friend.

Minho gives him a reproachful look.

“Cut it out… Scared of being exposed in front of our new friend?” Minho’s expression shifts into a playful one.

New friend.

Jisung doesn’t consider himself their friend. Why would he? Most of the time he’s running away from all of them as if they were a plague. Jisung would never be friends with people like that, and he can’t understand how Jeongin ended up with a group of addicts.

“I’ve got nothing to hide, man!” Changbin crosses his arms over his chest, lips pouting.

Jeongin is quiet. Too quiet. Maybe because he has too much to hide, and that pushes Jisung to want to play, because he needs to know what other lies his brother is keeping from their family.

“I want to play,” Jisung says, raising his hand, “but I don’t drink.”

Felix’s smile grows as fast as Jeongin’s face falls. Jisung knows he’s wearing a smug expression, and his brother is the only one who notices.

“You can stay on soda!” Felix jumps up and rushes to the kitchen. He comes back with a can of Sprite and a bottle of tequila.

Jisung knows he’ll win easily — the people here don’t know him.

He’s never liked this kind of game, because usually the questions are disgusting, but he knows how to play. His classmates used to love using the game to find things out about each other, and he’s always thought it was ridiculous.

“Can I sit this one out?” Jeongin asks without looking at his brother.

Felix shakes his head, completely oblivious to the tension.

“You’ve played before… Why are you chickening out now?” Felix asks curiously. Hyunjin clears his throat and jerks his chin toward Jisung, not discreet at all. “Got it! But Ji is so chill. Don’t worry, since he’s here, we’ll play the light version tonight.”

Jeongin doesn’t look too convinced, but nods. Minho doesn’t say a word — he just observes, the way he usually does.

Jisung wonders if Minho doesn’t mind just watching people, because he himself would die if he couldn’t voice his opinions. His parents had grounded him plenty of times precisely because he never kept his thoughts to himself.

“I’ll start.” Felix raises his hand. “Never have I ever… peed in public.”

Changbin laughs, grabs his tequila shot, and downs it. Hyunjin does the same. Jisung stares at his brother, but Jeongin doesn’t move. Minho doesn’t either.

“Does camping count?” Jisung asks, looking at his soda can.

Felix shakes his head, and Jisung doesn’t drink.

“Never have I ever hooked up with a friend’s crush,” Changbin says, looking straight at Minho with a mischievous grin.

Minho rolls his eyes and takes his shot. Jisung’s heart races. Who had Minho kissed that made him drink? Does that mean there’s someone else like him and Felix in this group? Maybe another friend who isn’t here?

It had been naïve of Jisung to think a place with two homosexuals would stop there. Maybe all of them… All except Jeongin. He wouldn’t.

“Never have I ever failed an elective class,” Jeongin says with a timid smile. Hyunjin shakes his head but takes a shot anyway.

Changbin joins him, making everyone in the room — except Jisung — widen their eyes.

“What? Botany sucks. Why is it even an elective?” He looks annoyed just remembering the subject.

Biting his lower lip, Jisung tries not to laugh. He can’t blend in too much with this kind of crowd. He would leave if he could, but his curiosity about Jeongin’s life is stronger. What is his brother hiding? Would he reveal it in a stupid game for immature people?

Jeongin is so good at lying that Jisung knows he could get away with anything if he needed to.

“Never have I ever broken a bone,” Chan says, sounding uninterested. His eyes are on Hyunjin, who drinks without hesitation.

Jisung drinks for the first time, attracting a few looks. Jeongin drinks too, but unlike Jisung, he grimaces when the tequila burns down his throat.

When he was six years old, Jisung was in a car accident that left him with an open fracture in his femur and a scar on his left thigh. Jeongin didn’t escape unscathed either: he broke one of his arms.

They don’t talk about it much — Jisung doesn’t remember much, and Jeongin refuses to speak of it. It’s one of the house’s forbidden topics.

“What did you guys break?” Chan asks curiously.

“Leg,” Jisung says, raising his left leg, “and him, the arm.”

Everyone makes a sound of surprise, but no one digs deeper, because Jeongin already looks uncomfortable enough.

Then it’s Minho’s turn, and Jisung takes a deep breath as he notices him straightening on the couch. He’s holding his shot glass, shaking it without spilling a single drop. The smile on his face is the kind Jisung hates most — though he can’t explain why.

“Never have I ever…” He looks right into Jisung’s eyes, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Eaten a wasabi popsicle.”

Jisung, whose heart had been pounding, relaxes his shoulders. Minho’s smile looks like he knows his secret, but isn’t willing to reveal it yet. And Jisung is the biggest fool — Minho doesn’t even know him, so what is it he’s so afraid of?

No one seems to understand when only Jisung takes a sip from his soda. Jeongin raises a brow, probably questioning Minho’s strange closeness to his brother.

Everyone looks at Jisung, waiting for his turn. He presses his fingers against the can, trying to forget the nerves of having all eyes on him. His gaze meets Jeongin’s. His brother’s expression is anxious, worried, almost begging him not to say anything.

Jisung can’t tell if Jeongin realizes it’s all intentional, that he wants to uncover what he’s been hiding. It’s only fair that he knows, isn’t it? After all, nothing could possibly be worse than his imagination.

“Never have I ever used drugs other than weed,” Jisung says, and Jeongin exhales, looking relieved.

But then he takes his shot. Everyone does — except Jisung. He turns to Minho, disappointed by the empty glass in front of him. Jisung doesn’t even know why he feels disappointed, since he doesn’t even know Minho.

Some of them suppress their laughter, and Jisung feels ridiculous for a moment. What’s so wrong with not being a fucking addict?

The questions go around, none of them invasive — just an excuse to get drunk.

When it’s Jisung’s turn again, he exhales. Maybe he should ask something that would tell him more about Felix and Minho. What should he ask to clear his doubts? Does he even really want to know?

Blame Jisung’s curiosity — he’s always been like that. His father hates his questioning side. Whenever Jisung asks too many questions, the answers get shorter, harsher, careless.

He thinks of the perfect question, one that leaves no room for doubt.

“Never have I ever kissed someone in this room,” Jisung says, his attention fixed on Felix, too nervous to look at Minho sitting right next to him.

Felix downs his shot easily, looking like he’s enjoying the turn the game is taking. Hyunjin drinks too, pulling a surprised sound out of Jisung’s throat. Chan and Changbin don’t touch their glasses, and Jisung breathes a little easier, relieved he’s not alone with…

Minho suddenly gets up, grabs the trembling glass from Jeongin’s hand, and drinks — both his shot and Jeongin’s.

“One for each of the two I hooked up with.” He winks at Hyunjin and Felix, confirming Jisung’s suspicions.

He thought he’d be satisfied to find out what kind of person Minho was, but instead, he feels like throwing up. Jisung has to concentrate to keep his soda down.

Not just Felix, but Hyunjin too. How many men had Minho already slept with? “What a waste,” his mother would say. “There’s nothing worse in this world,” his father would say.

“Disgusting,” Jisung would say.

“What?” Minho leans forward, one eyebrow raised.

His muscles ache. He realizes his pants are wet from the soda, the can no longer in his hands. He had crushed it and dropped it without noticing. His lips sting, as if the word had slipped out through the cracks.

Jeongin’s friends watch in silence. They don’t look shocked, but hurt. Changbin stands up and places a hand on Minho’s chest, trying to calm him.

“What did you say? I didn’t hear you, Ji… Care to repeat it so everyone can hear?” Minho lays his hand gently on Changbin’s forearm, pushing it aside.

Despite Changbin’s attempt to soothe him, Minho doesn’t look upset. Not at all — he wears a challenging smile, as if he knows everything about Jisung, as if he’s better than him.

“This game sucks.” Jisung stands, kicking the crushed can away. “Hyung, you’re sleeping here, right? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jisung leaves, his thigh stinging where the spilled soda had pooled.

That night, Jisung feels an ache in his chest. Why hadn’t Minho looked angry? He finally understands what that look meant. It’s not always there — sometimes it’s lazy, sometimes amused. But in specific moments, Minho’s gaze feels like a challenge.

When he drank Jeongin’s shot, he laughed, victorious, like it was a contest. Like it was a game only the two of them were playing. Who would give in first? Jisung wishes he knew the answer, but he isn’t even sure what they’re competing for — or what the prize might be.

Minho had been challenging him from the very first moment.

Why?

Unknown number

hey, do you want to talk

about what happened? [10:32 pm]

Chapter Text

Jisung bites into a piece of his sandwich while staring at the text. Who could have sent that? Could it be Kim Seungmin trying to reach out to him? Wouldn’t it be a bit too much to change his phone number? I mean, it’s not like his parents were tracking the boy’s phone, right?

Right?

Okay, Jisung doesn’t live in a movie, so that theory is off the table.

Still, no one besides Kim Seungmin would send such a text. Jisung doesn’t have any friends — he used to have one, but had to transfer colleges to get away from him — so there aren’t many people left besides Seungmin who could have sent it.

What should he reply? Should he ask if Kim Seungmin is okay? If he doesn’t think it’s an exaggeration to change his number? Jisung doesn’t know what to say.

"Ji, you’re here!" Felix’s deep voice is unmistakable. "Can we sit with you?"

Jisung turns around and finds himself face-to-face with all of his brother’s friends, as if it had been planned. Well, almost all of them, since Jeongin and Hyunjin are missing.

Ever since the incident at the frat house, Jisung has felt a growing discomfort around his brother’s friends, so he’s made a point of ignoring them on campus, pretending to be blind, wearing his glasses less often to have an excuse.

"Go ahead," Jisung says, noticing that Minho is staring at him without looking away. Yet another one of his pointless challenges.

The boys sit down and start chatting as if they were only there for the table and not to keep Jisung company. He goes back to staring at the message, shutting out the world around him, and furrows his brows.

"We missed you, Ji," Felix says, worried. "You know what would be cool? If you came to my dance performance this Sunday night. I can get you in for free, because I’m friends with the event organizer."

"And by ‘friends’ you mean you dated him for five months," Chan corrects, and Felix sticks out his tongue. "Come on, Ji. It’s going to be really fun!"

Jisung locks his phone and presses his palms against his thighs through his jeans, trying to push all his stress into his fingertips.

"I already have plans," Jisung says, locking eyes with Minho again.

Felix blinks a few times, a little disappointed with the answer. Still, he prefers to insist. "What’s on Sunday night? A date?" Felix asks, curious.

Jisung shakes his head.

"Church."

Changbin lets out a muffled laugh and Chan elbows him, though he’s smiling too.

"A date with God, then," Changbin comments, and Chan elbows him again, still smiling.

Felix rolls his eyes. Minho stays silent.

Lately, Jisung has noticed that he feels a little more embarrassed talking about his faith with people. And, to be honest, he wouldn’t even go to church if his father weren’t so insistent on knowing more about his life. Jisung isn’t as good at lying as his brother is, so he just prefers to follow the rules.

He decided that maybe, by changing the time he attended, he would feel more comfortable at church. He searched for the same comfort he once felt when his grandparents greeted him at the door with a smile, when his parents dressed him the way they wanted, when Father Kim listened to his confession.

At times, when he was a child, Jisung didn’t understand why Jeongin didn’t share the same opinion as him about the priest. Jisung was always excited when his parents invited the priest for dinner, but Jeongin hated it. Usually, his defiance earned him a night in his room without dinner — their father's orders — but every now and then, he was forced to sit at the table even if he didn’t say a word.

Once, Jisung asked his brother why Jeongin hated a man of such faith.

"He’s bad, Jisung, the worst of the worst," Jeongin grumbled.

He was thirteen, and his temper was far worse than Jisung expected from puberty.

"He’s nice to me," Jisung said, crossing his arms.

Jeongin stopped packing his backpack for camp and looked at his brother. He stepped closer, his brows furrowed. "What’s the most ‘The Lord's Prayer’ and ‘Hail Mary’ prayers he’s ever made you pray?" Jeongin asked.

Jisung had to stop and think. His penances were usually quick, and his knees didn’t swell or turn red like his brother’s.

"Two of each," Jisung replied, trying to understand Jeongin’s point.

Jeongin laughed loudly, shoving the rest of his clothes into his backpack. He seemed incredulous.

"And you, hyung?" Jisung dared to ask.

The movements stopped again, and a chill ran down Jisung’s spine. It was a strange sensation, like he already knew Jeongin was about to say something he would never forget.

"Thirty-seven. Each."

"Guys, it’s not funny!" Felix scolds everyone loudly. "Ji, if you can’t make it, that’s fine, but I’ll leave the invitation anyway."

Jisung nods, wishing he could hurry back to his dorm to take a hot shower and wash all the bad thoughts out of his head.

Not long after, Jeongin arrives at the table, but, contrary to what Jisung expected, he’s alone — which is strange, considering he seems to be with Hyunjin all the time.

"Oh, you’re here too, Ji?" It’s a rhetorical question, but Jisung nods anyway. "Sorry I’m late, guys."

Chan laughs. "We’re used to it. Did you send Hyunjin to class safe and sound?" Chan asks, with a sly grin.

Jisung looks at his brother with a questioning gaze but doesn’t say anything. Jeongin’s cheeks are flushed, and his blush deepens at Chan’s comment. This time, Changbin elbows him.

"We were just talking to Ji about Sunday’s performance," Felix says once Jeongin finally sits down.

Jeongin nods. Jisung suspects that, from his lack of comment, his brother already guesses what the answer had been.

"He’s got church," Changbin says, resting his elbows on the table.

Jisung looks at Minho again, unsettled by his lack of reaction. Not that Minho is talkative, but the constant observation is starting to bother him.

"Maybe that’s for the best… I don’t think it’s really Ji’s thing," Jeongin says.

As much as Jisung wants to disagree with his brother, it’s completely true. He imagines even Felix’s dance would seem pretty feminine, and, to be honest, he’d rather throw up than watch something like that.

His parents would reject him. Father Kim would make him kneel for a long time and recite as many ‘The Lord's Prayer’ and ‘Hail Mary’ prayers as needed to cleanse his body.

"Do you guys want to grab something to eat after the performance? Felix is always starving when it’s over," Minho says, speaking for the first time since they arrived.

Jisung looks at Minho, a little surprised that he finally decided to let him hear his voice. Is Minho going too? Even though Jisung knows Minho and Felix are in a relationship, it’s still surprising that he would put himself in situations that could compromise him in front of others.

You see, when Jisung thinks about it, Minho is actually very masculine, with good posture, a strong body, sharp facial features. He believes being seen with Felix would be bad for his reputation. Apparently, Minho is trying to pretend to be someone else to distract people from the fact that he’s a homosexual.

If Minho were proud of the things he did, it would be completely different.

"There’s that diner at the end of the street. I love their burgers!" Changbin says excitedly.

Felix nods, wrapping his arm around Changbin’s bicep. Jisung immediately searches for Minho’s reaction, but he’s relaxed, as if he doesn’t feel jealous of his own boyfriend.

"Felix loves it too." Minho smiles at Jisung, but his eyes don’t follow with the same playful expression. "If you leave church hungry, Jisung, you can meet us there. It's so good I could eat it all up."

Jisung has to look away, because he doesn’t know what he’s feeling when he notices the way Minho ends the sentence, clicking his tongue. Is it strange that his heart is beating as fast as if he had just run a marathon?

Is this another one of Minho’s challenges?

"I think I’ll pass, Minho, but thanks," Jisung says, staring at the table.

Minho nods.

"A shame, but that’s fine." Minho shifts in his chair. He’s still smiling. "I always feel like eating something hot after those things."

Crack.

That’s the sound of Jisung’s ribs — in his imagination — breaking from the intensity of his heartbeat.

Jisung definitely doesn’t need to go to the performance.

∘₊✧††† Miserere mei, Deus †††✧₊∘

Unknown Number
hi, do you want to talk
about what happened? [10:32 pm]

Han Jisung
Seungmin?
did you change your number?
actually, can I call you? [5:23 pm]

Jisung stares at the texts he sent for the tenth time, but they remain unanswered. He wonders if he took too long to reply and now Seungmin decided he doesn’t want to be in contact with him anymore.

It’s Sunday, and Jisung really wishes he had gone to church, but he caught himself lying to his father once again. That morning, thinking about the possibility of Seungmin calling, Jisung went to Mass so he wouldn’t feel as guilty if he skipped the evening.

He tried calling the number once, but gave up after the first ring. Maybe he was afraid Seungmin would actually pick up. What would he say? Ask if they could be friends again? Ask if they could keep the friendship a secret until things calmed down?

Jisung knows the whole situation with Seungmin was a huge overreaction from his parents. He doesn’t remember it as clearly as he’d like, but Seungmin had been his friend, the only person who truly understood him in this world, the only one who didn’t judge him for his choices — whether they aligned with religion or not.

Losing his best friend hurt. It hurt more than his knees pressed against beans, more than his throat raw from praying, more than his parents’ stares as he spoke the words, more than the disappointment in Father Kim’s eyes.

Seungmin is his delicate subject. His regret. He wishes he could remember those days better so he could apologize more sincerely, explain to his parents that they had been too hasty.

His phone vibrates against his chest and Jisung quickly unlocks it to check the notification. It’s an address.

Unknown Number
[Street xxxxxx, nº xx]
Lix here
hope you don’t mind, Ji
I got your number from Jeonginnie
I sent the address in case you decide to show up [7:12 pm]

Jisung locks his phone and huffs. Of course it had to be the unbearable Felix. Jisung wonders what Minho thinks about Felix’s persistence, because he doesn’t seem like a very worried boyfriend.

Well, his father always explained to him that homosexuals are promiscuous, so maybe Minho enjoys watching Felix throw himself at other men. Maybe they share sexual fantasies.

"My God, what am I even thinking?" Jisung squeezes his eyes shut.

His stomach growls, and he thinks about the burger. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to get something to eat — or go to the diner. At this point, Jisung really doubts that Seungmin will call.

Jisung stares at the address and pretends to figure out if the place is far from campus. Would he really do this? He’s not interested in watching Felix dance. Maybe it’s better to wait for his brother outside. Why does Jeongin even want to see Felix dance? Is it really that important for him to keep a friendship with these people?

Soon, Jisung is ready to leave and catch his Uber. He tries not to spend too much time on it, just picking an outfit slightly younger than usual, fixing his curls, and even wearing contact lenses.

The place is a large auditorium, different from what Jisung imagined. He stops in front, watching some people smoking outside and a small line for the latecomers. Jisung fidgets, hearing the music echo outside, wondering how long it will take because his stomach is growling.

When Felix invited him, he mentioned that Jisung’s entry would be free. Not that he wants to watch — far from it — but in a few minutes, he gets bored waiting outside. It’s also a cold night, even though he’s wearing a hoodie.

Before he realizes it, Jisung is in line, waiting for his turn to talk to the security guard.

"Invitation?" the man says, without even a greeting.

Jisung clears his throat, a little embarrassed.

"So… I was invited, but I don’t have one with me right now," Jisung tries to explain, already regretting leaving home.

The guard doesn’t seem sympathetic.

"Name?" he asks anyway.

"Han Jisung," he replies immediately.

The man flips through the list in his hands but doesn’t seem to find anything. Jisung feels his stomach churn at his terrible choice.

"There’s no Han Jisung here," the guard says at last. "Next."

"Are you sure?" Jisung tries to peek at the list, but the man shields it against his chest. "Because I’m friends with one of the performers and—"

"Look, it won’t work on me," the man interrupts. "Next!"

Jisung is about to give up when he notices one of Jeongin’s friends walking right behind with a bottle of water.

"Hyunjin!!!" Jisung shouts, not even knowing why he insists so much on getting in.

Hyunjin turns, surprised for a second. His expression relaxes when he sees it’s Jisung. He walks toward the door, staying just behind the guard.

"You came!" Hyunjin says, surprised. He doesn’t look happy, but he’s not displeased either, and that’s enough for Jisung. "Does Jeongin know?"

"Man, you’re holding up the line," a guy says behind him, but Jisung ignores it.

"Hyunjin, tell this guy I was invited, please," Jisung insists.

Hyunjin places a hand on the guard’s shoulder.

"He’s with Felix," Hyunjin whispers in the guard’s ear, and immediately the man stiffens, a little embarrassed.

"Why didn’t you say so before?" the guard scolds, but the blush on his face deepens. "You can go!"

Jisung watches the scene with furrowed brows but doesn’t comment. He follows Hyunjin without saying a word. He also notices that Hyunjin is drenched in sweat and wearing extravagant clothes.

"I’ll take you to where everyone is. Felix saved a seat for you," Hyunjin says, a mischievous smile on his lips.

Jisung forces himself not to make a face of disgust.

"Alright."

When they reach the row of seats, Hyunjin explains that Jisung should go alone because he has to go back backstage to help the other dancers. Jisung nods and passes in front of some spectators watching the show.

When he reaches Jeongin and his friends, Jisung notices that Minho isn’t there, and there’s no seat left for him.

Minho didn’t come to the performance.

Jeongin’s eyes widen as Jisung sits beside him without saying a word. Chan and Changbin make some comment, but Jisung isn’t sure it’s worth listening to.

"What are you doing here?" Jeongin whispers, irritated.

Jisung is offended.

"What’s up, hyung? I was invited too," Jisung retorts.

"Jisung… you don’t like these things."

"I was hungry."

"So you decided to come watch a bunch of people half-naked dancing?"

"What?"

The lights go out again, and Jeongin stops speaking out of respect — and because the girl shushes them.

As if by fate, the next performer is Felix. He steps onto the stage with his hair styled in a long braid — definitely a hair extension — and a white button-up shirt. His legs are bare: Felix isn’t wearing pants, exposing his tanned skin under the stage lights.

It’s a solo performance, but there’s a marble sculpture on stage.

Jisung watches Felix move as if the sculpture were his dance partner, and everything seems so sensual and sad. He doesn’t understand much about dance — nothing about it, actually — but everything Felix does on stage seems complicated, perfectly aligned, and well rehearsed.

At one point, Felix opens all the buttons of his shirt, exposing his entire torso. The audience reacts with surprise, and Jisung notices his heart racing — not because of Felix’s bare skin, but because of the sheer shock, of course.

Jisung glances to the side to catch Jeongin and his friends’ expressions. They all look enchanted but not surprised — as if they knew Felix’s capabilities. Jisung thinks about how Minho touches Felix’s body when they’re alone and how promiscuous they are together. 

He wonders if Minho likes Felix because he’s more feminine, if that’s his type of man. Jisung also wonders why Minho chooses a man when he clearly seems attracted to the feminine figure Felix presents.

When the performance ends, Felix’s braid is almost completely undone, strands slipping over his chest, and he’s breathing heavily, letting sweat drip down. Everyone applauds as if it weren’t an unnecessary display.

Who does Felix think he is, inviting him to something like this?

"So, Ji? Did you like it?" Chan asks as the lights come back on.

"I just came for the burger…" Jisung replies, noticing that Jeongin is nervous about the whole situation.

"But this is way better than the burger," Changbin says, laughing.

"I thought Minho was excited to watch this," Jisung can’t help the bitterness in his words.

The boys look confused. They exchange glances but don’t seem to know what to say. "Jisung, Minho is…"

The lights go out again, cutting Chan’s sentence in half. Jisung turns his head back to the stage, wondering why they’re still here, now that Felix has already performed.

A woman steps onto the stage. She wears a long black dress, the fabric semi-transparent, revealing her bra and panties. Jisung feels his heart race again, knowing he shouldn’t be there, breaking everything he believes in an environment so full of lust. His father would be furious. Father Kim would make him pay.

She positions herself in the center of the stage, legs apart, waiting for something. Seconds stretch like hours. Her long hair drags on the floor as she tosses her head back. The music starts, and Jisung looks to the side, searching for his brother’s expression.

Jeongin has a smile on his face, but there’s no malice in it. For a second, Jisung thinks his brother has even forgotten he’s there beside him.

A male figure steps onto the stage, wearing a white suit with a cropped, open jacket and no shirt underneath, revealing part of his chest and his entire abdomen. Jisung takes a moment to realize that the man is Minho.

He swallows hard. Minho is going to dance with a woman?

Minho positions his head on the woman’s thigh. She strokes his hair, and finally, they start moving to the music. Jisung grips the chair’s arms, leaning slightly forward.

When Minho pulls slightly away from her and they both rise to dance, Jisung notices blood now dripping from Minho’s mouth, staining his chin, chest, and parts of the white suit. The inside of the woman’s thighs and the area below her navel are also stained with blood.

What the hell is this?

Minho’s arms wrap around the woman’s waist, and they move across the stage as if sharing the same body. The blood smears even more across Minho’s abdomen.

Jisung swallows hard every time they make a more suggestive movement. The woman grips Minho’s pants, pulling him closer, and the music intensifies. They spin across the stage, and Jisung is certain it’s sex. Sex displayed for almost a hundred people.

It’s wrong, animalistic, and impure.

The whole blood thing makes the atmosphere even more… demonic. Jisung is sure the weight on his chest isn’t coming from a good place.

Minho turns the woman’s back to the stage, drags his nose along her neck, and bites. For a second, Jisung is sure Minho is staring at him — but that’s impossible, right? He doesn’t even know Jisung is here. Jisung wonders if it’s part of the performance or if Minho just felt like showing everyone his promiscuity as if it were natural. Jisung presses his lips together, trying not to show more of his discomfort.

The woman straddles him, but Minho pushes her, and the words of the song start repeating like a spell. His hair is messy, the blood spreading over more parts of his face, and he lays his head in the woman’s lap as if for redemption, finally.

They disappear from the stage without waiting for the lights to come on. Jisung notices something is different, that something happened.

Jeongin and his friends are applauding vigorously and making positive comments, while Jisung tries to figure out what actually happened.

"Jisung, that was the last one. Shall we go backstage to get the others?" Chan says.

Jisung shifts his legs, pressing one against the other before standing, when he finally realizes what’s strange: he’s hard.

His eyes widen, and he pulls his hoodie lower to hide it from Jeongin’s friends. When did this happen? Was it from letting his guard down and not thinking about natural catastrophes? Was it because of the half-naked woman on stage?

Shit, Jisung mentally curses again. He needs to get home immediately, needs to confess, needs to ask for forgiveness. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped Sunday church at night.

"Come on, Jisung. Minho must be starving!" Changbin says, pulling him by the arm.

Minho.

Jisung immediately knows who to direct his anger at. Minho is the main culprit for what’s happening, because he decided it was a good idea to have sex disguised as dance in front of everyone.

They reach the dressing room easily, since everyone seems to know them. Felix is already dressed in casual clothes and without the hair extension, but still wearing makeup. His eyes light up when he sees Jisung is here too. He runs to hug the friends but stops in front of Jisung, scratching his elbow, slightly embarrassed.

"You came, Ji," Felix says, and Jisung can’t tell if the flush on his face is from the makeup or natural. "So… what did you think?"

Jisung is still nervous about his pants situation. Realizing he was aroused made the erection even more painful.

"You dance well, Felix," Jisung replies, glancing over the boy’s shoulder, noticing Minho has his back turned, changing clothes.

Felix smiles, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"Really?" he asks shyly.

Jisung doesn’t respond, busy staring at Minho’s back. It’s like he wasn’t being promiscuous less than ten minutes ago. How can he walk around like this calmly?

"Minho, can you hurry up? I’m starving," Chan yells, interrupting the interaction.

Minho turns, one eyebrow raised, his chest completely exposed and stained with fake blood.

"I’m starving too. This blood is annoying to clean!" For the first time, Jisung notices a more expressive side of Minho. Hunger seems to transform him.

Minho’s eyes fall on Jisung as he tries to clean the dried blood with a damp cloth. He wipes across his abdomen, and Jisung notices the scar below his chest.

Minho’s abs have a certain definition Jisung didn’t expect. With little tummy, but so well distributed that Jisung questions his workout routine.

Jisung feels uncomfortable with Minho’s suggestive look, because he senses the boy somehow knows he’s hiding an erection under his hoodie.

"Lix, is Wooyoung still here?" Changbin asks.

Felix nods.

"Wanna talk to him?" he asks.

"Yeah. He still owes me a favor. I’m gonna make him make my hunger for me!" Changbin says with a sly grin, and Jisung doesn’t understand a single word.

Felix takes Chan and Changbin to another part of the dressing room, and only then does Jisung realize his brother isn’t beside him, leaving him alone with Minho.

Minho tries to rub the blood off, but it only makes his pale skin redder and none of the blood comes off.

"This isn’t coming off like that," Jisung says, crossing his arms.

Minho lifts his face, slightly surprised by Jisung’s voice. His expression quickly changes to something playful.

"Wanna teach me, then?" Minho asks, stretching the cloth toward Jisung, even though he’s on the other side of the dressing room.

Jisung bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if this is a good idea. But before he knows it, his feet are already taking him toward Minho. Jisung grabs the cloth and wets it at the nearby sink, squeezing out the excess. He presses it against Minho’s abdomen and starts rubbing with a certain firmness.

"You liked it?" Minho asks.

It’s funny because, unlike Felix, Minho doesn’t sound insecure with his question. He seems like he just wants to reaffirm himself.

Jisung doesn’t look at him, continuing to rub his abdomen, but replies "Way too much unnecessary exposure."

"Oh, really?" Minho asks, amused. "That was the point, so I guess I achieved my goal."

Jisung moves the cloth to Minho’s scar, cleaning it. "What’s this?" he asks, curious.

Minho laughs. "I had surgery as a baby. There’s no intense or sad story behind it," Minho responds.

"Surgery on a baby sounds like a sad story to me."

"It must be, but I don’t remember," Minho says, taking Jisung’s wrist and sliding his hand down below his navel. "Up here, there’s no more blood."

Jisung finally looks at him, eyes slightly wide, lips parted. Minho’s fingers press on his wrist, but Jisung doesn’t feel like pulling away. He doesn’t know what’s happening to his body. Every cell in him screams to move back, but he can’t.

Minho’s eyes are lazy but shine in a different way. His face is still slightly stained with blood, but Jisung knows that just water wouldn’t have removed it.

"Now tell me what you really thought. Forget your values for a minute," Minho insists. "What did you feel watching me on stage?"

Jisung can’t look away.

"I already said. And, honestly, I just came to have something to eat after this. I wasn’t really interested."

"I bet you were surprised," Minho says, ignoring Jisung’s words. "Was that the first time you’ve seen someone being… eaten out?"

The words hit Jisung’s pants, and he has no idea what the national catastrophes will do for him at this point.

"That’s not what happened," Jisung says.

"It’s implied, but you know it," Minho starts dragging Jisung’s hand across his abs when he notices the boy has forgotten why he’s so close. "I just wanted to clear a doubt with you."

Jisung presses his lips together and swallows hard for the twentieth time tonight.

"What?"

Minho stops moving Jisung’s hand. "You wanted to be in her place, right?"

The dressing room door opens, and Jisung shoves Minho away. His heart is pounding so hard he’s afraid he might have a heart attack.

"Where’s everyone?" Jeongin asks, arriving with Hyunjin, who’s also in casual clothes. "Let’s eat!"

Jisung does his best to control his breathing, avoiding Minho’s eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have come.