Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hello everybody and welcome to my Stray Kids Song Challenge!

I apologize if these aren't particularly well written, English is not my first language plus I'm dyslexic🫠

Each song (listed below, and open for requests) will have a story based on said song. Each story will be tagged appropriately, but most of these will have an OT8 poly dynamic going on unless specified otherwise, and most can be read as Oneshots unless specified otherwise

Requests can be for songs not on the list, member pairings, other characters (from other groups like: ATEEZ, NCT, SEVENTEEN, BTS, TXT, and ENHYPEN), and concepts that you'd like to see.

All of these are stories and not meant to be the real people of Stray Kids. They are characters for a story based off of the group, nothing more.

Below are all the current songs I have on my list

Falling Up

MOUNTAINS

Chk Chk Boom

Runners

MEGAVERSE

Cover Me

Hall of Fame

TOPLINE

GET LIT

Streetlight (Changbin)

I hate to admit (Bang Chan)

Up All Night (Bang Chan, Changbin, Felix, Seungmin)

Maknae on Top (I.N)

Super Board

3RACHA (Bang Chan, Changbin, Han)

Taste (Lee Know, Hyunjin, Felix)

Charmer

MANIAC

WOLFGANG

Red Lights (Bang Chan, Hyunjin)

Silent Cry

We Go (Bang Chan, Changbin, Han)

Wow (Lee Know, Hyunjin, Felix)

Easy

Chapter Text

If Jeongin could die and come back as a raindrop, he would.

Raindrops have the easiest existence.

Evaporate from the ocean or other water source, condense in the atmosphere into a cloud, wait for the cloud to get saturated enough, then travel down to the earth to do it all over again.

Raindrops are simple. Jeongin's life is not simple.

Raindrops get praised when they turn into rainbows, everybody loves them.

Jeongin gets kicked out of his house on their eighteenth birthday because he doesn't want to be called “Jia” anymore.

One would think it's a simple thing. Animals in the wild naturally change their genders and sexes all the time. Lots don't even have a defined gender or sex. But alas it can't be that easy in real life. Why would anything be easy for young Yang Jeongin?

Rain. Raindrops. Thunder. Lightning. All comforting to them on a normal day, but as they sit under his favorite cherry tree in a park of his childhood, they wish it was as easy as snapping his fingers to change the weather.

Jeongin frowns at the dampness seeping through their hoodie and jeans, picking at the fraying fabric from years of use and skating falls. The only things besides his phone and beloved skateboard left to his name. With an uncomfortable squelch from his shoes on a particularly thick pile of leaves, they sit down with a sigh, wincing at the cold, wet concrete underneath him.

You know, up until this point, Jeongin had a pretty good life.

Grades high to impress their parents, and enough spare time to hangout with friends. There wasn’t much else a sixteen year old could ask for. Maybe a job that paid better, but hey, it got them a phone and skateboard that his parents couldn't complain about them getting because it was his money that he earned. Didn’t stop the nagging, but he could live with that if it meant being allowed to skate until the sun went down.

His neighborhood in Busan was known for being against anything “rebellious” like skateboarding. However, Jeongin and their friends couldn't care less.

They weren't like the other teens smoking or drinking. They all were content learning new tricks and competing in games of SKATE against each other in the quiet park made into a skateboarder's dream after years of small additions. A few small rails, handmade concrete ramps, a tunnel that doubled as a halfpipe (albeit a modest one), and the world's smallest bowl to “drop” into made the hidden place a gem for skaters who knew where to look.

Jeongin and their friends took it upon themselves to keep the park clean and safe for anyone passing by whether it be picking up trash, fixing up some cracks or chunks of missing concrete, or making sure there was always some spare wax and hardware in a box on top of the biggest table, they always made sure anyone could skate there at any time. No matter what level, no matter how rich or poor.

The events they ran there were always free too, never paid. If somebody said they could skate and had a board (or could borrow one), they were welcome to enter.

The largest event was just after graduation, all the newly eighteen year olds went to the park to celebrate and held a game of SKATE with a first ever prize to the winners. Was the prize lollipops that happened to be on sale on the way to the competition and Jeongin originally just got them for himself? Sure, but nobody else had to know that. It was worth it to see everyone’s faces light up when he announced that anyone who entered got a lollipop, and the winners got to keep a handful of them.

Jeongin was pretty proud of his work at the time, but now, sitting by their favorite ramp by the only cherry tree nearby, all they felt was misery.

“Some birthday, huh?” Jeongin remarks to the rainfall, kicking a small rock and watching it as it lands near the first rail they installed all those years ago.

He makes a frustrated noise and his hands come up to tug on their hair. Too long for his liking yet too short for their parents liking. Not that that matters anymore.

The harsh words still ring out in his mind as if the conversation was happening again and again until it felt like their brain was going to implode.

“Unnatural”

“Wrong”

“Sinner”

“You’re not my child anymore”-

That one hurt the most.

They are fine with being “unnatural”, “wrong”, or even a “sinner”. But to be stripped of a mother and father who said they would always be there for them. Having to hear the heartbreaking wails from their younger brother as he got kicked out of the house and to the ground by his father while their mother forcibly restrained the younger boy is an image that Jeongin can’t quite get out of their head.

Birthdays are supposed to be fun, right? Supposed to be a day of happiness, celebration, and miyeokguk. Birthdays were not supposed to be filled with tears of despair and cries of agony.

Bitter bile slowly crept up his throat, Jeongin repressed the urge to empty his stomach on the ground below him. Why did he have to pick this day to come out of all the days they could have chosen? They could’ve handled another day full of “she's”, “hers”, and dead naming. What's the harm when it's been like that since they learned what trans was at twelve?

Off in the distance, Jeongin can hear the distinct sound of skateboard wheels and laughter that he could recognize anywhere.

“Yo Jia-ya!”

Jeongin glances up to see Chaewon, Eunsook, and Duri running over to him, all clad in raincoats and a handknit blanket in Eunsook’s arms.

“Why are you out here with no jacket, you'll get sick,” Eunsook pouts, a warm blanket draping over Jeongin, fruitlessly trying to keep the rain out. “We went to your house, but your parents said you weren’t there anymore,” She says softly, gently, in a tone that brings tears to Jeongin’s eyes subconsciously.

Not reading the room, Duri messes around on a few ramps, only sliding a few times before he decides that he’d rather stop skating than have to walk home in wet and muddy clothes.

He sits down next to the small, distressed boy and turns with a nonchalant expression.

“Soooo,” he drawls, “what’s up?”

The younger boy scoffs, eyes tracing patterns in the gloomy sky above.

“You won’t believe me if I told you,” he mumbled, eyes falling on Eunwook. She looks away quickly.

Picking at chipping black nail polish Jeongin weighs the pros and cons in their mind. On one hand, they could all be totally cool with him being trans… but on the other hand, they could leave him just like their parents did. Emptiness settles into the pit of their stomach like the cold wind whipping at his face.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Eunwook pipes up.

Dropping their eyes to the ground they say, “I got kicked out.”

“Kicked out, why?” Chaewon asks. “Did you not pass the tests last week?” Silence falls over the group tense enough to slice like a piece of cake.

“No…”

“Then why-”

Stealing their nerves, Jeongin stands to look at the three. “I’m trans,” he admits, the thundering of their heart echoing the pounding rain around them. In the corner of their eye, he can see Chaewon scoff. Not a good sign. “I'm not a girl… And t-they didn't take that well.” Trailing off quietly Jeongin looks down, not able to hold eye contact with any of them. It's too difficult. Too embarrassing.

“What if they react the same way my parents did? What if they hate me? What if-”

“Do you want me to pray for you?” Chaewon offers, her sharp voice snapping Jeongin back to reality. A look of pure disgust tarnishing her usually pretty features. “I’ve heard you can pray the gay out of someone, must work for trannys too. They did it for my sister.”

Bitterness flows through Jeongin like a wildfire in the summertime. She didn’t just say that…right?

“Excuse me?” They ask, making sure he’s hearing her correctly.

“I said that we could all pray for you, pray the “trans” out of you,” Chaewon repeats, slightly confused. “What else would we do, being that is a sin.”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe support your friend of eight years, ever think of that?” Jeongin snaps, laughing incredulously, “Of course you don’t, you’re just as bad as my parents!”

Taken aback, anger flashes in Chaewon’s eyes. “It’s not my fault you decided to be a sinner!” She exclaims. “Your family was right to kick you out.” What about this wasn’t Jia understanding?

“Trans?” Duri questions, trying to grasp the situation. He shoots the others a look before focusing back on his trembling friend before him. “Trans like you want a different name and body kind of trans? I agree with Chaewon. You know that's a sin, right? God doesn't think that's okay.”

A pang of hurt strikes Jeongin in the chest where his tits that don't belong to him are. A striking awareness of just how much wasn't him. This isn't happening. No, this can't be happening. Wake up Jeongin, wake up!-
Chaewon scoffs, “How many times did we have to tell you this whole “queer” thing isn't natural? I mean, I've seen you read the Bible, you should know better than this.”

“But if you actually read the Bible it doesn’t say anything about being gay or transgender being a sin-”

“What Bible are you reading? The one written by other faggots?” Duri bites.

Unshed tears roll down Jeongin's face at the onslaught of words piercing into his soul. The same ones his mother used. The same his father used before throwing them to the cold wet concrete of their doorstep with a yell to never come back accompanied by a slam of a door.

“I agree with your parents too, sorry. We can't be friends anymore. Come on guys.” Duri says, turning away with Chaewon at his heels.

Dizzy with emotion, Jeongin sits back down. He looks up at Eunsook pleadingly, “Please don't leave me, noona please,” he begs, voice shattered and filled with pain. Eunwook, equally distraught, darts her eyes between her now two groups of friends. With a heavy heart, she pulls Jeongin into a hug.

“What do you want me to call you?” She asks quietly.

Relief floods Jeongin's system. “Yang Jeongin,” they say proudly, “my name is Yang Jeongin.”

“You'll always be my little maknae, yeah?” She says voice strained, final almost.

Pulling back, Jeongin takes in Eunsook, her body language, her face twisted into sorrow, her eyes full of something akin to empathy. Panic settles easily into their skin, buzzing uncomfortably with the uncertainty.

“Always.”

Tears rolled down Eunsook’s face. “Then you'll wait for me? I'm so sorry Jeongin-ah.”

With his heart shattering into a million more pieces, Jeongin watches Eunsook turn and walk through the park toward where Duri and Chaewon left moments earlier. The dam breaks within them, unable to repress his emotions any longer. They sit there until afternoon turns to evening and evening turns into night, the streetlight illuminating the park in an amber hue.

When there are no tears left to cry, Jeongin gets up and slinks through the rain-clad city that used to be their home. Uncomfortable and heavy from soaked clothes, they walk to the nearest train station. Despite the situation, the rain is comforting in a way. Like someone out there was feeling the same pain, like he wasn't alone. With this thought in mind, they got on the next train to Seoul and promised himself to never look back.

-

They say it’s harder than it looks, but Jeongin wasn’t expecting it to be this difficult.

Getting to Seoul was easy, the train ride had lulled his exhausted body to sleep. But when his stomach growled for the fifth time while getting jostled by preoccupied citizens crowding the streets, he wondered if this was the right decision to make. At least the corner stores were still open. Ten minutes and a bowl of buldak raman to numb the pain later, Jeongin continues his search for shelter.

Amongst the bustling bright lights of the city, a quiet, dark alley catches Jeongin’s eye. Nothing but a small sign saying “this way” and trash strewn visible to the naked eye. Curious, he follows the dim lighting.

Gravel catching under their feet, they move through the shadows with light steps and walk towards an old looking oak door indented in the walls of the alleyway.

One small lightbulb illuminates the “porch” area, if you could call it that. Timidly, Jeongin steps up on a jaggedy and crumbling step to press his ear to the rotting wood. He strains to hear anything on the other side when the door abruptly opens, toppling him to the side and into a blinding room with an “oof”, eyes struggling to adjust to lights sprung on them without warning.

The person who opened the door comes into Jeongin’s view and sheepishly extends his hand towards the ground, “Sorry about that, I didn’t hear you there.”

Hesitantly they reach out and allow the stranger to pull them to his feet. “My name is Pyongho,” he states with a smile.

Jeongin clears his throat, dusting themself off before replying, “Jeongin.”

Pyongho’s eyes turn into crescents with a smile and Jeongin thinks he’d look adorable if it weren’t for the visible pocket knife on his side and smoke smell radiating off of him.

“Cool name, you new here? Haven’t seen you before, came out here to smoke, want one?” He asks, pulling out a cigarette.

“No thank you,” Jeongin declines politely, “what is “here” exactly?”

Pyongho shrugs, putting the cigarette to his lips and lighting it, taking a deep breath in before answering. “Place where kids come when they have nowhere else to go.”

It shouldn’t be possible to find a place like this on his first try, but Jeongin is far past questioning anything. “So if you happened to get kicked out of your house and need a place to stay..?”

Pyongho chuckles, “Yes kid, you came to the right place.”

Just like that Jeongin found himself in a spacious room filled with beds and the smell of home cooked food. Taking a free bed in the corner, he decides to look around the place before settling in for the night. It is warm in here, much to Jeongin’s delight, their clothes still damp from traveling through the rain all day. He tries to be as quiet as he can, pattering their way through a few halls with sock marks following behind and walks into another room slightly smaller than the living quarters.

Meeting them with a sweet smile stood who he assumes is a cook for this place. Standing at the stove with what smells like Kimchi Jjigae, she offers him a warm smile and gestures for him to come over. “Hi there, Pyeongho told me we had someone new.”

Jeongin’s heart melts at her friendly tone, easily walking over to the sink and starts washing his hands without having to be asked. A gentle giggle makes him look over his shoulder at the woman with a puzzled expression contouring their features. Did they do something wrong?

As if the question was written clearly on his face, she answers with a, “I didn’t mean for you to help, I was going to give you some food.”

“Oh,” Jeongin mumbles, “I needed to wash my hands anyway.”

With clean hands, they relish the way the warm water soothes his near frozen fingers. He looks around for a towel, taking in wood paneling and cluttered counters. It reminds him of his house kitchen with warm tones and accents of yellow and green in the tiles and accessories, giving a homey feel without looking too out of place from the rest of the living spaces.

Without request the woman hands over her towel for Jeongin to use. Grateful, he can’t help but smile. A feeling that maybe, just maybe, this place won’t be as bad as he feared. The world wasn’t all bad, they were learning.

The woman, Seonu Hyejin, or as they call her, Seonu-nim, shows him around the place and gives them travel sized bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash along with a fresh set of pajamas to wear and shoos him off to the showers.

The bathroom is the biggest Jeongin's ever seen. Sparkling white tiles adorn the floors and wall, and as he takes a closer look you can see abstract designs in each tile.

Hands fumbling with wet clothes, Jeongin manages to crawl out of his pants and hoodie. They decide to leave their boxers on and get under the hot spray of water waiting patiently for them.

-

The warm water relaxes his tense muscles and they feel as if the water washes all the day's stress down the drain. Feeling ten times lighter than before, they make it back out to the bed area to find a small bedside table at the bed he had set down his things on earlier with a phone charger and water bottle set neatly on top. A spark of happiness burst into their heart from the kind gesture.

With a full belly, phone plugged in, and rosary sitting on top of the bedside table, Jeongin falls into bed with a content sigh.

Life fell into routine after that.

Jeongin repays Seonu-nim and the other people working there by helping with cooking, cleaning, and occasional group prayer sessions for anyone wanting to join.

Clothes and small snacks sometimes showed up on their bed. They make sure to work extra hard after days like that. Even if she never told him, Jeongin knew it was Seonu who gave him the gifts.

It was quite nice actually, hanging around the shelter. It wasn’t like how they were shown in the media where drugs and fights were happening every other day, it was peaceful and uplifting. Jeongin especially enjoys the days when new people join them, happily acting as a tour guide to give a warm welcome to those in need.

On an unassuming Tuesday Seonu calls Jeongin into the kitchen. Setting down his phone where he was researching queer friendly healthcare, he wanders into the kitchen. “Yes, Seonu-nim?” They inquire, curious as to what she may need from him. Going on errands for her was one of their favorite activities besides cooking.

Once past the threshold of the kitchen, he notices a frown poorly concealed with a quick smile when she sees them walk in. Jeongin feels his chest tighten; this can’t be good.

Sitting down across from her, he fidgets with a string hanging off their hoodie, not quite knowing what to say or do. He waits until she is ready to tell him whatever is going on.

“I need to tell you something, Jongin-ah,” she says wearily. Jeongin nods encouragingly at her, his eyes sparkling from the overhead lights.

“My doctors say I have cancer.”

I’m sorry what? This is a prank, has to be. They think to himself.

He was hearing her wrong, obviously. There was no way she had cancer, she was far too healthy and lively for that. No no, cancer is something people get when they don’t take care of their body, right? She takes perfect care of her body, goes to all checkups, eats healthy, and gets proper exercise. There’s no way she could have cancer.

Silence sits between them, the noise of chatter and low music in the background keeping Jeongin from spacing out too much. Too many questions fill their head at once, so they pick the most eloquent one.

“What?”

She gives him a sad smile, her hand resting on his as she explains.

“A few months ago I had a routine checkup. They did blood work and noticed some odd results, so they ordered a few more tests to see if they could figure out why my labs weren’t normal,” she paused to make sure Jeongin was following. Confirming, she continues, “After doing those tests they found out I have stage four breast cancer that metastasized to my bones and liver. I’m so sorry honey, they say I only have a few months left to live.”

Tears spring to Jeongin’s eyes, collapsing forward into Seonu, cries wracking through their small frame.

Uncaring of tears soaking her shirt, Seonu holds him tightly, always-cold hands soothing the best she could and gentle words said through tears of her own until Jeongin calms down enough to let go. They bring the cuff of his hoodie to his eyes trying to stop the steady flow of tears to no avail.

Again, eloquently, Jeongin asks, “W-what do you mean “months left to live”? Can’t they do treatments?” Looking into her eyes with so much vulnerability he might as well have carved out his heart and given it to her for safekeeping.

“Oh you sweet thing,” she says more to herself than him. “Once cancer metastasizes it is very hard to treat, especially in the bone. They have given me medication to ease my discomfort, but there’s not much else they can do for me at this point.”

Jeongin feels like how they felt the day his parents kicked them out. Broken, confused, and scared, but now for all different reasons. He couldn’t lose Seonu, she’s what has kept him alive these past few months, kept them safe, and showed him a new love for life they never had before. They couldn’t imagine a life in which she was no longer there to give him hugs and piles of dishes after a great meal, what else would be left? Sure, there were other people working in the shelter, but it would never be the same.

Within the few short months Jeongin has been here Seonu got promoted to something akin to a manager. The place revolves around her, built so beautifully from over ten years of dedication and passion to help those less fortunate.

That night was the first since his birthday that he cried themself to sleep.

In the days following, Jeongin spent every waking second in the same vicinity of Seonu. If love could cure cancer Jeongin is sure she would have never gotten sick.

The atmosphere of the shelter slowly shifts over the next few months. Seonu has to call out more frequently due to her symptoms and Jeongin is there every step of the way. With no living family of her own Jeongin dedicates himself to be the best “family” she’s had in her last moments. If she needed medication Jeongin was there to give it to her. Every doctor's appointment he was there right beside her and kept track of which medications to give her at what times. He takes over cooking most days and even gets other people living there to learn how to cook and use the kitchen.

Every night he prays for healing. Every night he prays for her pain to ease.

One day Jeongin knew it was different.

Seonu didn’t call out of work but also wasn’t there. Worry floods his veins. Working quickly on breakfast, they leave a newly made friend to finish it so he can search for Seonu.

Her living quarters were conveniently in the same building as the shelter.

If you went through all the halls it would lead you to a door labeled “staff only” in which she lives. It is a quaint space, just how she likes it. Not too big, but with enough space to be comfortable for herself and her cat, Muffin.

Knocking on the door, Jeongin calls out, “Seonu-nim, are you okay?” through the door.

He knows she can hear him, and would communicate through the door on days she didn’t want to be seen. But now as silence falls on Jeongin’s ears, the worry that once filled his stomach turns into dread. A stronger knock rings out in the halls. “Seonu, if you don’t respond I am coming in,” he announces, fiddling with the keys while waiting for a response. When one doesn’t come they warm her one last time before letting himself into the quiet apartment.

Making his way through the small space they notice how Muffin was nowhere to be seen, another bad sign.

Stumbling around in the dark they make their way to the bedroom and knock on the door. “Seonu-nim, please say something,” he begs, trying to keep his anxiety at bay. Again, no response.

This time they don’t give another warning, barging through the door to the disheartening scene before him. Muffin lay curled in her lap in what would be considered normal if Seonu didn’t look like death herself. With sunken eyes and raspy breathing, no other sound fills the room.

Jeongin rushes to her side immediately, taking her hand in his.

“Jeongin, you came,” she slurs, heaving a large breath, and blank eyes falling over the boy's face. Jeongin wills his tears away, ignoring the pain in his chest, and pulls a chair to sit on by the bed.

“Yes Seonu-nim, I did, and I always will, always for you.”

She smiles, weak as it is, and an emotion Jeongin could only understand as love fills her eyes the more she looks at him.

“I don’t feel so good,” Seonu admits. Jeongin’s lips curve into a sad smile. “I know Seonu, I know. Is there anything I can get you?”

“You here is enough.”

No matter how strong Jeongin is, hearing Seonu’s voice get weaker and weaker is like a bullet to his heart.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” They know the answer when they ask.

“No, I want to be here with you, my Yang Jeongin…My son.” She smiles up at him so sweetly, unconditional love flowing through her being.

In a moment of strength, she sits herself up to give a hug to Jeongin’s fragile body, whispering reassurances as if it was him who was dying. Laying back down she says, “I love you Yang Jeongin, you never forget that okay? I love you.”

“I-I love you too eomma, love you so much.”

A pleased smile on her face was the last thing Jeongin saw before she took her last breath. Sobbing freely Jeongin stays there until there’s a knock on the door. In their rush earlier they must’ve left the front door unlocked.

Looking up he sees a blurry vision of the gentleman he first met at the shelter all those months ago, Pyeongho.

“Sh-she’s dead,” they whimper, clasping Seonu’s hands harder. “Pyeongho she’s dead.”

Pyeongho rushes forward to embrace the shattered boy, being there through the screams of agony and never ending sobs.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do to console Jeongin no matter what they tried. Once the fire department got there and peeled Muffin off of Seonu’s lifeless body, she stayed in Jeongin’s arms, refusing to leave and hissing at anyone who got near.

Back in his bed, Jeongin makes a makeshift bed for Muffin out of the blanket Eunsook made for them.

As they were about to fall asleep from the pure exhaustion in their body a loud police siren sounds. Moments later two police officers walk into the room, Pyeongho pointing to Jeongin in the back. They bow and walk towards the two.

“Hello, I am Deputy Kim and this is my partner Lee,” Kim introduces. “I want to let you know that Ms Seonu has left some things in her will for you. May we go to a more private area to talk?”

Jeongin numbly agrees, not having enough energy to spare for a reaction.

They follow the officers into the kitchen and sit down with Muffin still in their arms. The officers were trying to be nice, logically they know that. But as they start to ask him more and more questions about the day he wishes he could get up and go back to bed.

Recounting the events completed, the officers go over the will.

“To Yang Jeongin,” Officer Lee starts, “It looks like she left her cat, Muffin, and the small sum of her savings account to you.” He hands over the piece of paper.

Speechless, he accepts it with a small bow.

“There is one more thing,” Officer Kim adds, sharing a look with his partner. “Because somebody has passed in this building, we need to conduct an investigation. You have a few hours to gather your things before the detectives arrive,” he says as if he didn’t just give Jeongin life changing news.

“You mean we will be kicked out?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

-

Chapter Text

“There is one more thing,” Officer Kim adds, sharing a look with his partner. “Because somebody has passed in this building, we need to conduct an investigation. You have a few hours to gather your things before the detectives arrive,” he says as if he didn’t just give Jeongin life changing news.

“You mean we will be kicked out?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

-

That is how Jeongin finds himself back on the street, now with a cat, and nowhere that wants to house him.

At least it isn’t raining this time. The sun shines brightly, casting long shadows on the sidewalk, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside them. Jeongin can’t decide if they hate the sun for being so cheery, so indifferent to their pain, or if they wish they could fast forward time until it all ended—until the world exploded and took them with it.

Ultimately they decide it could all wait for some snacks.They shake their head, exhaling sharply. The cat meows from their pocket, bringing them back to the present.

"Alright, Muffin," they murmur, looking down at the calico peering up at them from the warmth of their hoodie. "Let’s go get you some food."

They turn a corner, slipping into the store and hoping no one notices the small cat hidden away in their hoodie pocket. A few beeps of the scanner and the soft hum of conversation fill their ears as they move through the aisles. The familiar sounds soothe him, momentarily quieting the storm in their mind.

They hum along to the store's music, making their way through the shelves, picking up cans of wet cat food, a harness (that’s definitely for a dog, but whatever), and a few bags of chips and raman for themself. They grab a bottle of water too and find a small dish for Muffin.

Once they have everything, Jeongin heads to the checkout and pays, bowing politely to the cashier before leaving with their goods.

Afterward, they find a quiet spot behind an old building, setting up a makeshift home for the night. Eunwook’s blanket pads the ground and Jeongin finds a flat rock to use as a table.

He decides to try to put on the harness before giving Muffin dinner, hoping it would help her get adjusted to it. She squirms and wriggles in his arms as they try to put it on, clearly not a fan of the strange new feeling. He fumbles with the straps, trying to get them in the right place as Muffin kicks and meows in protest, her tiny paws batting at the harness like it’s some kind of enemy.

“Come on, Muffin, just give me a second,” Jeongin mutters, adjusting the straps again, his patience wearing thin. He can feel her wriggling, trying to escape his grasp, but he holds firm.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of tugging and adjusting, the harness is on. Muffin stops squirming and sits still for a moment, blinking up at him as though she’s just realized she’s been trapped in this new contraption. Jeongin takes this moment to clip on the leash and sits back to admire his work. He laughs as she tries to figure out how to move in the harness, but she gets a hold of it pretty quickly.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he says, watching her dart off to chase a leaf blowing in the wind. After exploring a bit, she doesn’t seem to mind the harness anymore, and that’s all that matters. At least it worked. Within a few minutes she was back to playing with bugs and stray pieces of yarn sticking out from the blanket like normal.

The harness may be for a small dog, but Muffin doesn’t need to know that. The dark purple contrasts nicely with her calico fur, and the leash ensures she doesn’t wander off. Sue him if it looks silly, an escaped cat was not something they were about to endure.

The next few weeks pass in a blur of phone calls, apartment tours, and the deepening feeling of despair.

“Fuck!” Jeongin yells, slamming their phone down on the table in frustration. The sudden noise startles a flock of nearby crows, who squawk and take off, leaving Jeongin alone with their anger. They watch the birds disappear into the sky, wishing they could follow them, anywhere but here.

After being turned down by yet another apartment building, Jeongin knows it’s a waste of time. They decide to switch gears, focusing on something less maddening. The apartment search can wait until tomorrow, when their head isn’t clouded by frustration.

Money isn’t the issue, thanks to Seonu, but Jeongin quickly realizes that they need more than just money. They need an active income. It doesn’t help that they forgot to quit their last job and were fired for not showing up. If only the people at the coffee shop knew why they hadn’t come in. The memory makes them scoff, and they absentmindedly pet Muffin before she darts off to play with more leaves.

A few moments pass, and Jeongin smiles softly as they watch Muffin play. It’s a brief escape from the weight of everything. But eventually, they pick up their phone again, scrolling through their notes until their finger hovers over the number they wrote down a month ago.

Might as well call the LGBT Youth Group. What more bad news could there be?

They dial the number and wait. The phone rings a few times before a voice picks up.

"Hello, this is the Seoul Youth Group program. My name is Kim Haneul. How can I help you today?"

Jeongin takes a deep breath, nerves fluttering in their chest. "Hi, I was looking for the LGBT Youth Group. Is this the right place?"

"You sure did! Let me transfer you over to a representative who can help you. Please stay on the line."

The call holds for a few moments, and Jeongin exhales shakily. They feel a bit lighter already, but it’s hard to tell if it’s hope or just exhaustion. Either way, it’s better than nothing.

-

“Well, that went better than expected,” Jeongin says to Muffin, who purrs up at them, likely more interested in the food than in the conversation, but they’ll take it.

The group was able to get them an appointment for the next day with a doctor that could help them get the trans medical care they need at no cost. They send over the address and Jeongin saves it in their phone before reaching for the bag of snacks.

Muffin’s green eyes follow the snacks Jeongin picks up from the bag, then crawls to sit on their lap. Jeongin laughs softly as they offer her a small snack, watching her eagerly snatch it from their hand.

"I just gave you food, you don’t need any more," Jeongin chuckles, but they give in anyway, offering her a second treat. It's been a rough day for both of them, and maybe, just maybe, an extra serving of food won't hurt.

They look down at Muffin, feeling a tiny flicker of warmth in their chest. If nothing else, they had this little cat, and maybe that was enough for today.

Exhausted from the day, Jeongin goes to bed early. They move closer to a nearby building that hides his body from the public eye.

They fall asleep with a small smile, the soft purr of Muffin nestled against their chest, a comforting rhythm that lulls them into dreams of a better life. A life where the mirror reflects the person they’ve always known themselves to be.

The morning comes too quickly, but determination outweighs any lingering drowsiness. Jeongin rises early, picking up Muffin to save time and walks towards the boarding clinic they researched last night. The stop at the clinic is quick—a small detour to board Muffin for a few hours. It’s a bit of a hassle, but he was not about to bring a cat into a medical facility.

The medical building isn’t far, only a few blocks from the boarding place. On the outside the building is unassuming, just like every other building in Seoul’s high skyline.

~

They decide to take the elevator, not wanting to walk up twelve sets of stairs so early in the morning. Walking through the halls they finally find the correct door number and go inside.

A friendly receptionist greets Jeongin, checking him in and handing over a clipboard of paperwork. Settling into one of the hard plastic waiting chairs the best they can, Jeongin starts filling out the forms. His hand falters only briefly as he writes his legal name followed by the name he actually goes by. It feels strange to write both names down, but he pushes the thought aside. One step at a time, he reminds himself. The hormones come first, then they can think of getting their name legally changed.

Once the forms are complete, Jeongin sets the clipboard on the counter and returns to his seat, trying to focus on the soft hum of the air conditioning instead of the faint itch of nervousness crawling under his skin. He keeps telling himself it’s fine. Everything is fine. Soon, someone will call his name, and this part of his journey will finally begin.

Jeongin’s eyes drift across the waiting room, eventually settling on a table tucked into the corner. A TV hangs above it, playing a muted news channel, but it’s the stack of colorful flyers on the table that catches his attention. Intrigued, he stands and makes his way over, scanning the titles as he leans in for a better look.

“Are these free to take?” he asks, glancing back at the receptionist.

The receptionist offers a warm smile. “Yes, they are. Help yourself to any you’d like.”

Jeongin nods, picking up a couple of flyers that stand out the most: one advertising affordable housing options, another detailing job opportunities in the area. He tucks them under his arm before returning to his seat, feeling a little more hopeful than before.

A few minutes later, a door opens to reveal a woman with a clipboard.“Yang Jeongin?” She calls, looking around the waiting room until her eyes fall on the boy she’s looking for. Jeongin rushes from his seat and over to the woman, a hurried thank you leaves his mouth when she keeps the door open for him.

She leads him down a well-lit hallway, the faint hum of activity in other rooms filling the quiet. They soon enter a small, neat room where she gestures for him to sit. “Let’s start with your vitals,” she says, setting her clipboard aside and preparing her equipment.

As she wraps the blood pressure cuff around his arm, she glances at him kindly. “So, what brings you here today?”

The question makes his nerves flare, and he hesitates, the words catching in his throat before tumbling out shakily. “I was referred here by Seoul’s LGBT Youth Group for transgender care.”

She nods and types something into her computer, her expression professional but gentle. “Got it. And what is the main reason for your visit today?”

Jeongin swallows, this was more difficult than he thought it was going to be. “I was hoping to start hormones,” he manages.

Her reassuring smile doesn’t waver. “Okay, we can definitely help you with that. Just a few more questions, and then the doctor will be right in.”

He nods, his hands resting tensely in his lap as she continues.

“I’m sorry if these next questions are triggering in any way, but I’m required to ask them,” she says, her tone laced with understanding. “Are you on birth control?”

“No,” he replies, shaking his head.

“When was the first day of your last period?”

He fidgets, discomfort crawling under his skin, but he answers honestly. “I think it was about two months ago. They’ve never been regular.”

“Any chance of being pregnant?”

“No, I am a virgin,” he answers nervously.

Her tone remains neutral as she types his responses. “Thank you for letting me know. That’s all I need for now. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

Jeongin nods again, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They weren’t kept for long, a quiet knock resounding in the room moments later. An older gentleman walks into the room, a professional smile gracing his features.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Gu, I will be your doctor today.”

-

With his thigh more sore than before and the taste of artificial cherry staining his tongue, Jeongin is thrilled with how well the appointment went. They were now on the way to pick up the needles, syringes, alcohol swabs, and bottle of testosterone prescribed by the doctor.

He showed Jeongin how to properly clean, draw up, and inject his now weekly shots.

Much to their surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as they were expecting it to. It didn’t feel good, but that was okay, anything for him to feel more like himself.

Just like at the doctor's office, all the pharmacy staff were nice and helpful. The pharmacist goes over how to do the injection one more time before sending Jeongin off to pick up Muffin and go to a new shelter they found through the flyers.

Before Jeongin even sees her, he hears Muffin’s unhappy meows echoing through the boarding clinic as soon as he opens the door. The sound pulls a small, apologetic smile onto his face. Has she been like this the whole time?

“Hello, Mr. Yang,” the receptionist greets with a friendly tone. “Here for Muffin, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Jeongin replies, his voice laced with embarrassment. “Sorry about the screaming. She’s never been away from me before.”

The receptionist chuckles, waving off his concern. “Don’t worry about it. Trust me, there are much worse things she could do. Let me grab her for you, and you’ll be on your way!”

As she disappears into the back, Jeongin busies himself with preparing the payment, tapping his debit card lightly against the counter in a steady rhythm. The noise of Muffin’s persistent meowing grows louder, but it’s quickly replaced by soft purrs as the receptionist returns, handing her back safely to his arms. He really needs to get a carrier, huh?

“There you go!” she says cheerfully, carefully handing over the squirmy cat.

“Thanks so much,” Jeongin replies, cradling the cat protectively as he steps outside. Muffin settles down as soon as they’re reunited, her purring a balm to his lingering nerves.

Next on the list is to get to the shelter. It closes its doors at nightfall, an odd thing to do Jeongin thinks, but there is already a bed saved for him there for the next month. Hopefully that will give them enough time to find a more permanent living situation.

He decides to stop by a convenience store on the way, grabbing essentials like small snacks, cat food, and body wash to replace their old one that had run out.

He wanders through the aisle leisurely, allowing a moment of reprieve for themself.

An autumnal colored bottle catches their attention high up on a shelf. They manage to just reach it and look over the bottle.

“Hmm, does this coffee body wash or my usual vanilla one sound better, Muffin?” They ask the cat, who’s hidden from other customers by his hoodie. She looks up at him through large eyes and offers a bonk of her head against their abdomen as a response.

They think for a moment before putting back the coffee body wash. “Let’s go with what I know I like,” he decides, “I can try the coffee one next time.” Muffin responds with a gentle purr, and Jeongin chuckles at her antics. Sometimes, he swears she understands every word he says.

He goes to check out, but a shelf of cat toys in the back of the store makes them turn around.

They look through a few before picking out a small mouse toy filled with catnip. Muffin’s eyes light up the moment she spots it, her tiny paw trying to swat at it eagerly through the hoodie. Jeongin smiles at her excitement, then heads to the checkout line.

With all things bought and packed carefully into their backpack, they are back on their way to the new shelter.

They spent more time in the store than expected, but it shouldn’t be a problem, according to their phone the shelter was only a twenty minute walk away. They set off, Muffin on his shoulders, proudly displaying her new toy. They get a few smiles and happy comments as they walk and it makes Jeongin’s day just a bit less lonely. Muffin seems to enjoy the extra attention too, he’s definitely going to do this more often. He’d do anything to see her happy, even if it meant him starving himself to feed her.

He follows the directions on his phone's GPS, going down streets and turning when it says to.

One of the last turns brings him onto a short stretch of road, ending in a cross road. Along the sides lay rows of trees and a small grass field, unusual for the densely packed city. It’s a stark contrast to the usual narrow streets with buildings on either side.

Jeongin’s phone dings, instructing him to make one more turn at the crossroads, leading them straight into the shelter. Following the route, their gaze is drawn to an immense building looming ahead. The crossroad brings back the familiar scenery of tightly packed buildings, much to the disappointment of Jeongin and Muffin, who had taken a liking to trying to “catch” small branches as Jeongin walked them under the trees.

The building they think is the shelter stands out against the other buildings surrounding them. It’s much wider, stocky almost, than the others.

As they approach, Jeongin takes in the area with cautious eyes. The building seems nice enough on the outside, nothing out of the ordinary-but the surrounding neighborhood makes him question if they really want to stay here. There is nothing Jeongin can pinpoint, but the atmosphere carries an unease that makes them second guess if they are in the right place.

Confirming that they are, in fact, in the correct area, Jeongin goes through the doors standing in front of him.

On the other side of the door, Jeongin steps into a medium-sized lobby. The space is decorated in a way that feels more like an office than a shelter—neutral colors, odd posters, and a couple of haphazardly placed plants lending an air of confused professionalism. He hesitates for a moment before heading to the desk where he assumes visitors sign in.

As he approaches, he startles slightly when a figure leans forward from where they had been “Sorry, dear,” the woman says with a wry smile, leaning forward from her seat. “Didn’t hear you come in. What’s your name?”

The loud snap of her chewing bubblegum punctuates her words, and Jeongin suppresses a grimace, how unprofessional was she going to be? Still, he forces himself to answer politely.

“Yang Jeongin,” he says, his voice steady yet skeptical. Maybe their gut was right about this place after all. “I called earlier, and they told me there was a bed ready for me tonight.”

The woman nods and begins flipping through a stack of files, her expression disinterested as she searches. After a moment, she finds what she’s looking for, jots a quick note onto a form, and hands it lazily across the desk to Jeongin.

“Here you go,” she says. “Take this to Mr. Shin, he’ll show you to your bunk.”

Jeongin takes the file with a polite nod to conceal their doubt. “Thank you,” he says, organizing the papers as he takes them and steps back from the desk, unease thrumming his core.

“This can’t be worse than sleeping on the streets. If it gets bad I can always leave,” he thinks to himself, walking in the direction they were told to go.

The halls are a maze, twisting and turning in ways that feel impossible to follow. Every time Jeongin thinks he’s making progress, he somehow ends up back where they started, the same walls and doors mocking his sense of direction. He wants to sit down and cry until someone finds him, but alas their pride pushes them to keep going.

By the time he finally stumbles upon the right path, they're slightly out of breath and dizzy, his chest rising and falling heavily as he tries to steady himself. He glances down at Muffin, content and purring softly in their arms, and mutters under his breath, “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

Turning another corner, Jeongin’s eyes land on a tall man standing by a set of double doors, arms crossed like a sentry. “That must be Mr. Shin,” he thinks. Though, to be honest, a security guard wouldn’t look out of place here. Maybe he is one.

The last shelter Jeongin stayed at had a security guard and Pyeongho, whose presence was more than enough to ward off wrong doers a majority of the time.

When Jeongin gets close enough, the man uncrosses his arms and steps forward, offering a hand. “Yang Jeongin, correct? Ms. Kang let me know you were here.”
His smile is bright and friendly, white teeth catching the overhead light, and his tone is much kinder than his imposing stature suggests.

“Yes, that’s me,” Jeongin replies, shifting Muffin in his arms to shake his hand.

“Just this way, please,” Mr. Shin says, gesturing toward the double doors.

With a firm push, he opens one and steps aside, motioning for Jeongin to step through. They hesitate for a moment, the weight of uncertainty washing over them. Steeling their nerves with a deep breath, they push forward, finally crossing the threshold. Behind those doors lies not just a bed for the night, but the beginning of a new phase of their life he isn’t sure they’re ready for.

-

Sitting down on his new bed, Jeongin almost wishes they were back out on the streets.

Unlike before where home cooked food and fresh laundry filled the living spaces, it smells like body odor and food that has been left out for too long. They make a mental note to never accept any food this place might try to give them. And they didn’t even want to question the odd stains on the carpets and walls.

At least on the street they knew what they were getting into, had a choice in where they slept.

In here it feels like anything could happen at any second, with no regard to what he might want or need, and Jeongin isn’t quite a fan of that. On top of that, there’s no bedside table. But at least they are in a bottom bunk. And the person above seems to be sleeping soundly. They hope it stays that way.

He sets down his backpack and lets Muffin down from his arms. She curiously explores the bed, rolling around once she finds a good spot.

Jeongin allows her to do whatever she pleases as he sets up her food and water bowls next to the bed, trying to be respectful and not take up too much space. After everything is set up, they decide to wash up instead of taking a tour of the place, planning to dash back to their designated bed the moment they are done getting ready for bed.

He scoops Muffin up and places their various bathroom supplies in their hoodie pocket.

At least the way to the bathroom isn’t as confusing as finding the place. Jeongin tip toes down the hall, trying to be as quiet as they can so as to not awaken anybody. They manage to find the bathroom fairly quickly and head inside. He puts Muffin down and leans down to clip off her leash once the door is closed and locked. Standing up, they scan the area, eyes falling on a less than ideal scene.It makes Jeongin wrinkle his nose in disgust.

The sink is coated in an unidentifiable sticky substance, dotted with stray hairs that cling stubbornly to its surface. The toilet isn’t much better, looking as if the first, and only, time it was clean was when it got installed. Even Muffin seems to be unimpressed. She looks up to Jeongin as if to say, “This is the standard of this place?”

The showers are better, the outward cleanliness of the tiles is enough to put him slightly at ease. There is a distinct smell of mold as they get closer, clearly in the walls, but at least it is not visible.

They line a small area of the sink counter with a few paper towels then set down what he brought in. He takes off his clothes, placing them similarly to the other items, on paper towels atop the toilet seat.

A few minutes of figuring out how to use the shower later, he steps inside, letting the hot water cascade over his small frame. The water washes away any lingering worrying thoughts down the drain and he heaves a sigh of relief.

They grab the bottle of vanilla body wash he got at the convenience store and pours some onto their hands, scrubbing it over his body until it lathers up before washing it off down the drain. They try not to think about his naked body, hands avoiding his chest when possible. He is grateful for very small tits, it’s almost like God knew when he was born that breasts were not something he’d want.

Next he eases shampoo and conditioner into wet strands of hair, waiting for the conditioner to do its work before rinsing it out and doing one more small wash of his body to make sure all the products were off. He allows himself a few minutes to bask in the hot spray of water until a few restless meows and a paw swatting at the shower curtain convince them to get out.

Jeongin sighs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, Muffin, I’m coming,” he mutters, reluctantly shutting off the water and stepping out to face his impatient companion. You don’t like water, remember?” Jeongin chuckles, glancing down at Muffin as another meow of protest escapes her. Shaking his head, he reaches for a towel from a cabinet labeled “clean towels” and starts drying off.

With a towel wrapping their body and hair still damp, he steps in front of the wall-to-floor mirror to do skin and hair care, their favorite part of the nightly routine. Their products smell good as they layer each step. He starts his face, applying each product and allowing it time to dry in-between products, then moves to a whole body moisturizing lotion. Next is a few hair products, mainly to keep it healthy and easy to style in the morning.

The lotion leaves him smelling like sweet vanilla and warm, slightly smoky, amber; and the hair products give a rich undertone of tonka beans and coffee. The familiar smells envelope Jeongin, a sense of calm washing over his body as he brushes his teeth.

With dewy skin and silken hair, Jeongin puts on new underwear and sweatpants. They decide to throw on the same hoodie and collect all their products after putting the towel in the dirty hamper. Taking one last look around to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything, Jeongin throws away the paper towels and scoops Muffin back in his arms to make his way back to their bed.

They plug in their phone and quietly search for his rosary hidden within a compartment in their backpack, silently doing their nightly prayers once they find it. Rosary back away, Jeongin gets out of the bed to set up food and water bowls for Muffin. He takes a pack of wet food and places it in the food bowl, Muffin happily jumping down to scarf every morsel. Once done, she jumps back on the bed, requesting to be under the covers. A fond smile tugs on Jeongin’s lips, obliging and moving the blanket up so she could join him.

With her leash securely back on, Jeongin tries to fall asleep after such a chaotic day.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, but when they manage to fall asleep, it’s with their arms curled tightly over Muffin, her purring helps ease his body into a somewhat restful sleep.

-

Jeongin startles awake to the sharp hiss of a cat and a muffled yelp, scuffling noises flowing mutedly to his ears. Their sleep riddled brain struggles to catch up, but a loud, incredulous voice breaks through the sleepy fog enveloping them.

“Yo, what the fuck!” someone yells. “Your cat just scratched me, bro!”

Blinking blearily, Jeongin pushes himself into a sitting position, stiff muscles complaining and blinking sleep from his eyes. They focus their attention on the silhouette of a guy standing some feet away. He’s rubbing his hand and scowling down at the ground.

Jeongin’s mind is still foggy, not quite awake, but a question breaks past his half-asleep consciousness.

“What are you doing petting my cat anyway?” Jeongin asks groggily, his voice raspy with sleep. His tone isn’t accusatory, but genuinely baffled. Who pets someone’s pet they don’t know while their owner is asleep?

The guy scoffs, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated smirk that wakes Jongin a bit more. “You’re clearly new here, huh?” he quips, his voice dripping with condescension, leaving Jeongin to be both more confused and mildly frustrated with this guys’ behavior. What does that even mean?

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Jeongin stands to confront this guy, noticing how much taller this guy is than they are upon standing. They don’t back down though, holding steady eye contact with this wannabe as they reach down to scoop Muffin up.

The poor cat’s fur is still bristled, body tense with lingering adrenaline. Gently, Jeongin sets her back on the bed, belatedly noticing the lack of leash attached to her.

“And what does me being new here have to do with the fact that you messed with a cat that you don’t know?” Jeongin bites back, irritation seeping into his voice now, truly not in the mood to deal with this cocky, jock looking dude before the sun has fully risen. “Either you’ve never interacted with a cat before, or you look smarter than you actually are.” He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, ignoring how disheveled he must look.

Silence.

Just silence.

For a moment the whole room seems to hold its breath, on edge, frozen in time.

The guy goes rigid, his smirk faltering for the briefest second. Jeongin’s heart pounds in their ears.

The tick of the guys’ jaw is the only warning Jeongin gets before a fist gets thrown his way. Reflexes still sound asleep, a hard fist collides with their face, a resounding crack echoing throughout the room.

Pain blooming across Jeongin’s cheekbone and nose, the impact sends him stumbling back just far enough to avoid the next blow. Their heart rate quickens, being thrown headfirst into fight or flight, body jittery and very awake now.

“What is your DEAL dude?!” Jeongin shouts, looking around for anybody to come help him, panic creeping up to his heaving chest. To their shock there are multiple pairs of eyes watching the scene passively. Some are watching them and some look like they are carrying out morning routines like nothing out of the ordinary is going on… Why does no one seem surprised by this?

Jeongin quickly learns why.

“So he does this all the time, but doesn’t get reprimanded?” Jeongin scoffs incredulously in the staff office when this news is shared with him. Holding the ice pack, given to him by Mr. Shin, closer to his face, hoping to numb the area, Jeongin glances around the room.

The faint smell of stale coffee and disinfectant lingers in the air, doing little to distract from the ache throbbing under his eye and shooting through their head. His stomach complains with a growl, reminding him just how long it’s been since the last time they ate, forgoing dinner last night for a shower.

Muffin also seems disgruntled, her tail flicking with annoyance as the conversation with Mr. Shin and other staff members drones on. Nobody except for Mr. Shin will look into Jeongin’s eye. Could be because of the dried blood and blooming bruises, but it more feels like they are afraid of setting Jeongin off more.

“He tends to pick on people he labels as LGBT,” a wiry haired man says. His gaze flickers to Jeongin’s face and then skitters away, landing somewhere on the desk instead.

Jeongin freezes, zeroing in on the man. The throb of pain in his face and head dulls under the sharp, visceral wave of anger rising in its place.

“Your flyer says this place is queer friendly,” Jeongin snaps, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. The words come out louder than he intended, but he doesn’t care enough to apologize.

“I came here specifically,” he pauses, words deliberate now, speaking as if he were explaining something to a child, “because I was supposed to be safe here!” Each word sharper than the next, Jeongin’s voice continues to rise with their anger.

The guy flinches but doesn’t speak. He only glances at Mr. Shin, who has yet to talk.

“And now,” Jeongin continues when silence fills the tense room, “You’re telling me that staff and management are aware that there’s a guy here targeting queer people- who are, mind you, marginalized in this queerphobic country- and you do nothing about it?” His voice cracks slightly on the last word, eyes threatening to spill tears of frustration. They manage to push through by glaring at the man like he can will him into answering. “How the hell does that happen in a space that’s supposed to be a shelter?”

Mr. Shin exhales slowly, pressing his lips into a tight line. For a moment, Jeongin wonders if he’s even going to bother responding, but then he speaks, his voice quiet, undertones of tiredness bleeding through.

“It’s not that simple,” he says, though he doesn’t elaborate.

Jeongin abruptly gets up, hands slamming on the table, making a few coffee mugs click together momentarily. The movement makes his head spin with pain, but that doesn’t stop him from losing their temper on the poor staff members that may, or may not, deserve it.

“Not that simple?” he repeats, his tone mocking, incredulous. They can’t all be serious. “You don’t think it’s simple to stop someone from assaulting people? What are the police even for then? Why choose to make this place even worse for those who have nowhere else to go!” He barks.

Their words echo in the small office, but Mr. Shin doesn’t react beyond a flicker of irritation that passes too quickly to catch.

Jeongin feels the anger boiling over, his hands trembling at his sides. “What, are you all just waiting for him to go too far?” he demands, taking a step forward. “Or are you just hoping he’ll eventually leave so you don’t have to deal with it?”

“That’s enough,” Mr. Shin says suddenly, his voice firm for the first time. His tired eyes lift to meet Jeongin’s, and his gaze hardens into something akin to anger. “You think we want this?” he snaps, composure finally breaking. “You think we like knowing what he’s doing and not being able to stop it?”

Jeongin doesn’t respond, his chest heaving with the effort of trying to keep his voice steady, his own anger in check.

“What I don’t appreciate is you yelling at my team,” he says, pointedly not looking away from the young boy. “I get that you are in pain, and I get that you are frustrated. But that does not mean you can come in here and berate the people working hard to make this establishment as accommodating as they can.” Mr. Shin warns, a slight snarl tugging on his lips.

Jeongin sits down, but still doesn’t respond, only petting Muffin when she jumps on his lap, directing their attention only on the furry creature.

“We’ve tried,” Mr. Shin continues after a moment, his voice softer now, “We’ve reported him, warned him, done everything we can without putting the rest of the residents at risk. And I’m sorry that this sucks, but this isn’t some perfect utopia, Jeongin. This is life, and we don’t have enough recorded evidence that will hold up in court, which he has threatened to do if we call the police on him. So no. It’s not that simple.”

Jeongin stares at him, the words settling over him like a lead blanket, unable to move even if they wanted to. He wants to yell again, to demand better answers, better actions, but something deep in the pit of his stomach knows it won’t do them any good.

-

With Muffin in tow, Jeongin trudges back into the sleeping area, disappointment and pain acting like shackles making each step harder than the last. He does well to not look anyone in the eye. It is very clear they don’t care about him, so why spare the extra energy?

They take a “Jeongin’s world fastest record” shower before heading outside, Muffin happily on his shoulders.

Jeongin retraces his steps to head to the open field they passed yesterday, needing to be anywhere but in that joke of a shelter for a few hours to regulate himself. With their skateboard tucked under their arm securely, fond memories of their old life flood their mind, and for just a moment he pauses and thinks about messaging Eunsook. She said to wait for her, but it’s been over six months already and not one call, not one text has come through from her.

Sensing Jeongin’s sudden discomfort, Muffin bats playfully at his ear, breaking his thoughts enough to push aside the deep rooted ache for connection with a friend again. He chuckles and adjusts Muffin a bit on his shoulders.

“You ready, Muffin? We’re gonna go fast, you have to hold onto me.”

The moment he drops the board and lets it hit the ground with a satisfying clack, the sound of its wheels rolling over the pavement reaches his ears. It’s immediate, that sense of calm, like the noise drowns out everything else. His board will never leave him, that’s the only guarantee they will ever have in their life.

It’s been a while since he’s been on their board, everything moving too quickly to allot time for it. But as the wind cards through their hair and time seems to slow down, Jeongin is sure this is the best decision he’s made today. Muffin seems to be enjoying it too, even if she was a bit startled at first.

As they go faster the world blurs softly at the edges and for the first time in a while, Jeongin genuinely smiles. A small feeling that spreads warmth through their chest and to their limbs, the feeling growing each time they push off the concrete below.

Each roll of the wheels against the ground matches the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the chaos in his mind fading with every kick in the way only skating can bring them. He weaves around cracks in the road, feet and body moving on hard earned muscle memory, and for the first time today he feels like they can finally breathe. Each shift of their weight across the board makes them forget more and more of the pain and pent up anger, and soon enough they find themself at the field he set out to find again with a clear head and warm heart.

The open field, much bigger than it looks at first glance, stretches wide and empty around Jeongin and Muffin, like time has frozen for just them both to enjoy together, like the world knew what they needed and was holding still just for them.

Muffin easily jumps off of Jeongin’s shoulders when he stops to take in the clear sky and clean air filling their lungs. She wanders around and finds some leaves to play with before hunting mice living in the tall grass. Jeongin chuckles lovingly at her, getting off his board to tie her leash around a poll in the ground by the grass.

With Muffin safely secure, Jeongin takes a running leap onto his board, morning wind a sharp attack of their face. They move instinctively, muscle memory guiding their every motion as they drop into a freestyle flow. Without having to think, his legs guide him into ollies and pop shuvits as easily as breathing comes to their lungs.

The longer they skate the more difficult the tricks get. Once ollies get turned to heel flips, and pop shuvits get turned to varial flips. They make good use of the open space, carving wide arcs across the pavement before daring a series of flips and spins that leave them breathless and giggling with satisfaction.

Jeongin doesn’t like to flaunt their skills much, opting to be the quiet one who surprises anyone who dares to question his knowledge or skills. The reactions people make when they land three lazer flips in a row with the ease of doing ollies over cracks is something Jeongin thrives off of, savoring every last bit of the shock or embarrassment from daring to doubt him.

It wasn’t a bad idea to try to be a skating instructor, he was more than qualified for the job.

The only skills they don’t have as much practice with is vert, something he desperately wants to be able to do more of.

The familiar ache of reaching his limit creeps up his legs, making their landings more wobbly, less controlled. It’s a reminder of how long it’s been since they last did any of this, of how long since he’s pushed his body like this. But they don’t stop, determined to thoroughly exhaust his body before cruising his way back to the “shelter”. The thrill of skating gets them high in a way that his body doesn’t want to let go of, will do anything to keep it going, even just for a moment longer.

He lands their last run shakily, body running out of steam, and lazily rolls over to where Muffin was passively watching him- or the grass, they couldn’t tell which.

She is much more interested in a leaf picked up by the chilly wind than she is by anything he just did. “Well you’re hard to impress,” they joke, wiping sweat from their brow.

His legs ache, their chest heaving up and down in quick movements, and his heart feels lighter than it has in days. For the first time in what feels like forever, Jeongin lets themselves savor the exhaustion, the sore muscles, and the calm that comes after pushing their limits.

If he takes a short nap in the grass shaded by a large tree with Muffin curling into his side, that’s nobody’s business but his.

Awaking hours later with the sun hanging lower in the sky, casting a yellow glow to the world, Jeongin feels well rested. Yawning and stretching a tiny paw out, Muffin purrs at Jeongin’s pets.

He forces his torso off the ground and stands up with a huff of effort.

Cruising to a market, Jeongin picks up a quick meal before heading back to the hell they have to call their home for the next month.

-

Jeongin keeps his head down. He slips quietly through the building and doesn't talk to anyone except for Mr. Shin when they need to.

Every time something happens, Jeongin is grateful for the teachings and skills he got from the previous shelter.

The washer and dryer stop working? No problem, Seonu taught him how to hand wash and dry their clothes.

A fight breaks out in the middle of the night? Nothing to worry about, Pyeongho taught them how to fight or flee to stay safe.

The rest of the shelter is in shambles because they got food poisoning from the cafetera? Not an issue, Seonu taught him how to cook so they never once had to eat there.

The only thing that nothing could ever prepare them for was Iseul.

Isuel only continued to get worse from the day he and Jeongin fought. He took a liking to making Jeongin's life hell on earth after that, doing anything just barely below the line of being illegal.

~

Slurs follow them through the halls, some of the other residents joining in once they realize Iseul isn't getting reprimanded.

If they didn't take their backpack with him, by the time they were back to their bed it would take them an hour or more to find where Iseul hid it and the contents (separately, usually) around the shelter.

He even went as far to report Jeongin for “leaving her stuff everywhere” to Mr. Shin.

Jeongin's saving grace was that earlier in the day they had told Mr. Shin they were going out to a doctor's appointment and left early in the morning.

But still he pushed on.

~

Jeongin never gave Iseul the satisfaction of a response. If their stuff went missing, they would quietly retrieve it, their face betraying no hint of frustration, and continue on with their day. No comments, no confrontations, just a deliberate refusal to acknowledge the bait.

When Iseul got in their face, shouting slurs with a voice loud enough to turn heads, Jeongin would simply stand there, their expression blank, unreadable. They’d wait, unflinching and uncaring, a wall of indifference until Iseul was done. Then, with little more than a raised eyebrow, they’d turn on their heel and walk away without a single word. The silence seemed to infuriate Iseul more than any comeback ever could.

But the day Jeongin returned to the shelter after a long, peaceful skate and saw Iseul holding their bottle of testosterone, casually dangling it between two fingers like it was some cheap trinket, the facade cracked.

Iseul stood in the middle of the common area, his shit-eating grin stretching wide across his sharp features. He tosses the bottle into the air lazily, catching it with one hand and then flipping it to the other, like he was playing with a kids toy. “Yo, Jeongin!” he calls out mockingly, his voice echoing in the room. “This yours? Kinda looks important. Maybe you shouldn’t just leave it lying around, huh?”

The sight of the bottle made Jeongin’s heart rate quicken. That wasn’t just some random thing he could quietly reclaim and brush off. This was different. This was his medication. A medication that was very hard to get. And a medication that they needed to do today.

Jeongin strides forward, their steps deliberate, eyes fixed on Iseul. “Ay yo, put that down,” he says firmly, their voice steady and strong, cutting through the room like a blade. There is no anger in their tone, only a quiet, controlled intensity that makes Iseul falter for half a second before his grin widens.

“What, this?” Iseul asks, holding the bottle higher, just out of reach from the shorter boy. “Nah, I think I’ll hang onto it for a bit. Looks like it’s worth something to you.”

Jeongin stops a few feet away, forcing themselves to breathe slowly, evenly. Losing their cool now wouldn’t help. “It is,” they respond, meeting Iseul’s gaze with unflinching resolve. “That’s why I’m telling you to give it to me. Now.”

The quiet authority in Jeongin’s voice made the room feel heavier. A few people stop what they are doing to watch, their gazes flicking between the two of them. It was normal for Iseul to taunt others. It was not usual, especially for Jeongin, for there to be a confrontation back.

For a moment, Iseul just stares at Jeongin, his smirk faltering slightly as if he was waiting for them to raise their voice, to lash out, to give him the reaction he’s been searching for since that first day. But Jeongin doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away.

“C’mon, man,” Jeongin pressed after a moment, their tone calm but unyielding. “This doesn’t have to go any further. Just hand it over, and we’re done here.”

Iseul’s grin returns, but there's an edge to it now, his ego masking the frustration creeping into his expression. He twirls the bottle one last time, then holds it up, as though deciding whether to give in or escalate.

Jeongin takes this moment to snatch the bottle from Iseul’s unsuspecting grip.

The older boy yelps like a puppy who’s just been injured, a surprised fury replacing his smirk from moments ago. He tries to lunge at Jeongin, but gets a calculated kick to his chest instead, toppling over backwards and to the ground. He blinks up at Jeongin, clutching his chest, with wide eyes and a furious expression.

“I told you to give it back,” Jeongin points out, breathless from the whirlwind of emotions flowing through him. “Consider us even.”

“Not my fault you are a freak of nature!” Iseul retaliates from the ground. “You’re not meant to be here and you know it!”

Jeongin blinks down at the bully, hurt and confusion a swirling storm in their head. Quietly, he picks up his belongings, puts them in his backpack, scoops Muffin up and puts her on their shoulders, then without looking back makes their way to the front desk.

“I’d like to check out please,” Jeongin says and hands over the paperwork. “Permanently,” he adds.

-

Back out on the streets for what seems like the hundredth time, Jeongin goes back to the field to think.

It’s quiet in the field, only them and the mice Muffin loves catching so much. He thinks about Iseul. He thinks about the shelter as a whole. And he thinks about those last few comments that made him leave the place without second thought.

“Not my fault you are a freak of nature. You shouldn’t be here and you know it.”

Jeongin brings his hand up to the cross necklace around his neck and considers all the possibilities. What if God was punishing him for being transgender? Would his life be like this forever, trapped in this confusion and torment, until he could rid himself of the sin? Was being trans a choice like his friends said? Was he even allowed to be who he was?

The weight of these questions pulls at his chest, and he feels the tightness of fear around his heart. Was he breaking some divine law just by existing as he did? Was there something wrong with him?

His thoughts spiral, sinking deeper into doubt until Muffin's sharp “meow” breaks through the haze. The cat swats at his leg, pulling him out of the darkness for a moment.

"I’m being stupid, aren’t I?" Jeongin murmurs, his voice trembling as if the answer would change everything. “The doctor says this is normal, that I’m normal, so it must be, right?”

Muffin tilts her head to the side and chirps, as though offering some silent reassurance. Jeongin lets out a shaky laugh, wiping his eyes.

“There’s one more place I can try,” he says, looking down at Muffin. They rise from where he was sitting on their skateboard, dizziness flooding their mind and body.

A quiet but steady determination pushes its way through the storm of his thoughts. No more second-guessing. No more spiraling. With a deep breath, he starts walking towards where he knew to be a Church, his resolve solidifying like a wall around his doubt. There had to be more than just uncertainty.

With the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows across the ground, Jeongin walks toward the imposing oak door of the Church. His feet are heavy, but there's a sense of purpose in his steps. If no one else could offer him solace, surely the Church, with all its teachings about compassion, would help him… right?

He stands before the door, the cool wood cold beneath his fingertips as he raises his hand. The knock comes out stronger than he expected, a resounding echo in the quiet evening. It’s as if his body is making the decision for him, pushing away all the lingering doubts with that single knock.

Jeongin waits, his heart pounding erratically in his chest, each beat loud enough to echo in his ears. His vision wavers, edges blurred and uneven, like all the thoughts in his mind are manifesting as physical symptoms. His breath comes in short, shallow bursts as uncertainty coils tightly in his stomach.

And then, two things happen at once.

The doors swing open with a soft creak, light spilling out from inside, and Jeongin sways.

His knees buckle under his weight, the ground lurching up to meet him as darkness clouds his vision.

The pastor, who had opened the door, reacts instinctively. His eyes widen in shock as Jeongin collapses forward, and he lunges just in time to catch the boy. Strong arms cradle Jeongin’s weight, holding him gently but securely as the pastor lowers him to the ground.

And Jeongin, cradled in unfamiliar arms, hovers somewhere between wakefulness and oblivion, his heart finally slowing as the darkness swallows him whole, pulling him under and into a sea of the void.

-

Groaning, Jeongin opens their eyes, vision blurry. His head pounds, feeling as if two elephants are squeezing his brain, using it as a ball to play catch with. Everything feels wrong. Too silent, yet deafeningly loud. Too dark, yet impossibly bright. So real, yet dreamlike, as if he’s caught between two worlds.

Two figures come into Jeongin’s view, but he can’t make out their features, eyes rapidly blinking to try to focus. The only familiar feeling is a purring close to their chest, grounding, tethering them to the world that threatens to sweep away from them again.

“Jeongin?” someone says—or maybe they don’t. He can’t tell. The syllables dissolve into the pounding in his head, leaving him grasping for any information they can cling onto. Anything to make sense of the situation. Anything to tell him why he can’t see, hear, or move.

A low whine slips from his throat before he can stop it. The effort of focusing is too much. The world tilts, edges fading into shadow, but Muffin’s purring remains. Grounding. Comforting. Unmoving.

And Jeongin clings to it, desperate not to slip under again.

Struggle as they might, the world slowly comes back into view like the fog in the early morning sun. Muffin stays through it all, coaxing her owner to stay in the conscious realm.

The gentle murmur of prayers flows to Jeongin’s ears, filling his soul with hope as he wakes up bit by bit.

By the time the prayers are done, Jeongin is sitting up and more coherent than before.

“Did someone say my name?” Jeongin asks, slurring his words a bit. “I thought I heard someone say it.”

A woman, crouched to his left, responds, a fond smile adorning her face. “Your cat has your name on her collar, darling.” Jeongin’s face contorts in realization, he had forgotten he did that when Muffin got handed over to him.

The three of them continue the conversation as Jeongin gets his footing on the world again.

He learns that the pastor has a husband, which is why there are pride flags and queer events held there sometimes. But he says that even if he weren’t gay, his goal was to always have a safe space anybody could come to. Jeongin also learns that the pastor and the woman are related, brother and sister. She helps out with a few things around the Church, namely printing and cutting out all the handouts the Church offers.

The pastor offers Jeongin a job within the Church, things that he can’t do as well anymore due to his older age. Jeongin spends his days sweeping floors, dusting pews, and tidying up the nooks and crannies of the old church. It’s quiet work, the kind that doesn’t demand much thought, and for that, he’s grateful. It gives them time to think about the future, what they want, where they want to be, what life will look for them down the line.

Beyond cleaning, the pastor often has them help prepare for sermons and events. Jeongin sets out hymnals, arranges chairs, and sometimes helps polish the altar until it gleams. There’s a quiet rhythm to the tasks, a sense of purpose in doing something tangible, no matter how small. It’s not glamorous, but it feels good to be able to help out.

Despite Jeongin trying to refuse, the pastor insists on paying Jeongin for their help. It’s not much, but plenty for the generous pastor to let him stay in an unused room for free.

The months pass quickly, and before Jeongin knows they are signing the lease for a small apartment near the Church and legally changing their name to “Yang Jeongin”. The pastor, his sister, and his husband offer unwavering support though it all. They even go to some walkthroughs of apartments to give their advice on what may be good or not.

Keys jingling, Jeongin opens the door to his apartment for the first time and a wave of emotion overcomes him. Never did they think this day would come when he got kicked out a year and a half ago. The road here wasn’t easy, and they knew this was only the beginning, but as he looks around the place he feels like it was all worth it.

-

A bowl of raman and hours of moving boxes around later, Jeongin sits on his bed in the middle of the room with Muffin contently purring in their lap. Music from their phone plays softly in the background, a few candles lit on the coffee table the pastor generously donated as a “first apartment gift” as he called it.

He signs contently, savoring the calm stillness of finally having a space to call theirs.
Outside the window were some trees and a path that leads to a nearby grocery store, corner store, and club. With the window open, cool evening air flows into the small space, cool grey bouncing off the walls. Jeongin opted to leave the lights off, candles the only source of light from inside the apartment.

Jeongin continues to work at the Church, muffin trailing along when she feels like it. Most days she stays home lounging on a cat tree Jeongin got, the first piece of furniture they bought for the place. The pastor's husband laughed at him when they bought it, saying that most people would’ve gotten chairs or a couch first. He didn’t care though, Muffin deserves the best, so the best she will get.

They both settle into living alone rather quickly, Jeongin just happy they have more privacy now. Not that they didn’t before, however, his testerone shots were giving him some side effects they felt weird about doing anything about in a place somebody could walk in.

It’s because of this that Jeongin finds himself in the nearby club one night after finishing up their duties at the Church.

His voice getting lower and hair growing in places they never knew could grow hair were easy enough to deal with. It is the excessive need that is driving him a bit insane.

No matter what toys or things they used, Jeongin could not satisfy the craving running deep in their core.

So here he is, in the middle of a club that is truly too loud for their liking, hoping to find someone that could maybe help. They get a “drink” (soda water and lime) and look to the dance floor in the middle of the place, trying to build up the courage to do something, anything but standing awkwardly on the side lines.

Unknown to them, they catch the attention of a guy sitting by the bar. He downs the rest of his drink and walks over to where Jeongin is standing, coming into Jeongin’s view before speaking.
“Hey there pretty, you waiting for somebody?” He leans against the wall, dimples showing in the low light when he smiles.

Jeongin’s heart skips a beat at his voice, raspy yet smooth. They shake their head, not trusting his voice to not crack or say something stupid like holy fuck you’re so hot.

But maybe his face gives it away because when he only shakes his head the guy chuckles at him. “May I have the pleasure of dancing with you?” He gestures to the dance floor, less busy than before. Jeongin thinks about it, eyes flicking between chocolate eyes boring into his and the bustle of bodies in front of them. His core twinges at the way he raises an eyebrow at them, encouraging a response.

If he wasn’t the most attractive guy Jeongin’s seen in his life, maybe he would’ve said no. But, how could anyone say no to those eyes? Pleading, gorgeous, and hinting at an air of arousal.

“I’m not a great dancer,” Jeongin replies, giving in.

The guy leans close to their ear, warm breath ticking it as he says, “Don’t worry, I’m not either.” He looks Jeongin up and down, eyes taking in the outfit they flung together earlier on a whim. It was a simple grey crop top paired with a black skirt, fishnets and boots clinging to their legs. With a few accessories and a bit of makeup, Jeongin feels the hottest he has. And if it caught the attention of this guy, it was all worth it. “A pretty thing like you doesn’t deserve to be on the sidelines,” he says, winking at Jeongin’s flustered face.

Without a moment more of hesitation, Jeongin agrees, allowing themself to be dragged onto the dancefloor.

If “dancing” was practically dry humping each other, Jeongin thinks they’re doing great.

It starts out innocent enough, the guy swaying them back and forth pulling their bodies close when the next song brings more people back to the dancefloor. They fall into a rhythm of pushing and pulling, tangling limbs around each other until they are so close it’s hard to focus.

“What’s your name?” Jeongin blurts out, needing to know who this heavenly individual was.

“Chan. What about you, pretty?” Chan whisper shouts into Jeongin’s ear, the music making it almost impossible to hear each other.

“Jeongin,” he replies.

“Well, Jeongin,” Chan says, eyes holding steady with them, “I’m having a really hard time holding myself back right now, but I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to do.”

Jeongin cocks their head to the side, confusion flickering across their features as they try to process the moment. Chan doesn’t explain with words. Instead, his hands find Jeongin’s hips, firm yet gentle, guiding them closer until their bodies align.

The movement is deliberate, and Jeongin’s breath catches as something hard presses against their stomach. The realization sends a spark of electricity straight to their core, igniting a warmth that spreads through their entire body.

“Kiss me,” Jeongin whispers, their voice soft but full of intent.

Chan’s eyes darken instantly, his pupils dilating as he locks onto Jeongin’s lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one fluid motion, his lips crash against Jeongin’s, the kiss heated and consuming from the very start.

Jeongin gasps into it, the intensity making their knees weak. Chan’s hands tighten their hold, keeping Jeongin steady as their mouths move together in perfect sync. It’s overwhelming in the best way, every nerve in Jeongin’s body alight with sensation.

If Jeongin wasn’t desperate when they arrived here, they certainly are now. Their fingers curl into Chan’s shirt, clinging to him as if afraid to let go. It quickly becomes obvious that this—just this—won’t be enough for either of them.

“Fuck,” Chan curses, grinding up against the plush skin of Jeongin’s exposed stomach. “You wanna get out of here?”

Nodding, Jeongin takes hold of Chan’s hand and leads them out of the club. Maybe it was dangerous to take home some guy you barely knew, but Jeongin was not thinking about that right now.

On the street, Chan turns to him, about to say something when Jeongin cuts him off.

“My apartment is close by, we can walk there.”

“You sure?” Chan says, not skeptical, but hesitant. Jeongin nods fervently. Anything to get Chan into a private space. Don’t blame him, blame his shots for making them this desperate.

-

On the walk there Jeongin learns that Chan is older than him by a couple years, a fact that makes Chan very happy when he learns. Not that it matters, but it was clear to Jeongin that he likes being the eldest after learning he was also the oldest in his polycule.

Chan doesn’t even look at the apartment when they get there. The moment Jeongin locks the door, Chan pushes them against the wall, caging their body with his.

“You have no idea how much self restraint it took to not fuck you on that dance floor,” Chan growls, taking Jeongin’s lips in his before he has a chance to respond.

Jeongin whimpers at the feeling, arms scrambling to find purchase so as to not melt into a puddle right then and there.

Things escalate naturally, movements becoming more fluid as Jeongin starts to roll his hips against Chan’s. The friction pulls a soft groan from Chan, who rewards him with a few slow, deliberate thrusts and murmured praises between their shared kisses.

“Doing so good for me, baby,” Chan whispers against Jeongin’s lips, his voice low and breathless. The pet name does something to Jeongin’s core, subconsciously clenching and rutting forward into the olders’ hips.

The thought that he should tell Chan he’s a virgin crosses their mind once or twice, but is overshadowed by the blinding pleasure Chan is providing them. The pleasure they’ve been seeking for weeks.

Chan pulls away breathless. “Where do you want to do this?”

“My bed,” Jeongin responds, just as breathless. They pull Chan to the bed, climbing on top of him and attaching their lips back together. Chan easily goes, his large hands splaying across Jeongin’s hips and back to keep him steady.

Pulling away from the kiss, Chan adjusts himself to be seated more comfortably, back resting against the headboard, legs out in front of him. Jeongin takes this as an opportunity to grind down, the friction feeling so much better from this angle. Chan lets out a curse, hips bucking upwards of their own accord, chasing the feeling.

Jeongin starts rolling his hips faster, losing himself in the white hot pleasure, and Chan rewards them with a few thrusts and praises through the kiss. The pleasure feels so good, too good. It sneaks up on Jeongin, and before he realizes what’s happening, the feeling crashes over them like a wave.

“C-Chan hyung, I-” Jeongin stutters, his movements faltering, hips stuttering as the heat overtakes him entirely.

“Did you just cum baby?” Chan asks, breathless and helplessly turned on. “Just from grinding against me?” His voice is more in awe than anything else.

Jeongin freezes, the weight of what just happened sinking in. Embarrassment floods him, hot and overwhelming, and he quickly hides his face in his hands. His chest feels tight, the sting of tears welling up behind his eyes.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Chan soothes, his hands coming up to gently pry Jeongin’s hands from their face. “Hyung’s got you, I’m not upset.”

When words fail to soothe, Chan adjusts Jeongin in his lap, pulling the trembling boy close to his chest. His arms wrap around him, strong and steady, as if shielding him from the world. Jeongin clings to the fabric of Chan’s shirt, his breaths uneven and shaky.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jeongin whimpers, his voice barely audible.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Chan says immediately, his tone gentle but firm. He tilts his head, resting his chin lightly atop Jeongin’s hair.

Jeongin hesitates before pulling back just enough to meet Chan’s gaze. His eyes are red and puffy, tears still clinging to his lashes. He takes a deep, trembling breath, hands clutching tightly at Chan’s. “I’m trans,” he admits shakily, the words tumbling out. “And I… I haven’t slept with someone before.”

The silence that follows feels deafening to Jeongin, his heart pounding as he waits for a reaction—any reaction. But none comes. Chan doesn’t flinch, doesn’t recoil. He simply sits there, his hands steady and warm as they hold Jeongin’s trembling ones. His expression remains soft, understanding, his dark eyes locked on Jeongin’s.

“Thank you for telling me,” Chan says quietly, his voice calming. “We don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want to.” His tone is firm, trying to make it clear to Jeongin he’s done nothing wrong. “I’d be perfectly happy to stop here, watch a movie together, and just calm down.”

They agree to watch a movie, Jeongin bringing snacks over to the bed, and Chan pulling up some choices on his phone.

Jeongin tries, he really tries to focus on the movie. But the throbbing arousal coursing through them makes it hard to think of anything but Chan. He manages to get halfway through the movie before Chan makes a comment.

“You okay?” He’s so sweet, so gentle, and not at all what Jeongin was expecting from what was supposed to be a hookup.

“I can’t focus on the movie.” Jeongin hopes Chan will understand what he means. When it’s clear he doesn’t -or doesn’t want to assume- they continue. “I know we agreed to watch a movie, but…” He looks away from Chan, too embarrassed to admit this and look at him. “I really need to cum, and you’re so hot it’s driving me crazy. I think I’d die if I never got to feel you inside me.”

Chan offers a smile to Jeongin, like he was proud of them for telling him what he needs. “I would love to.” Chan presses a tender kiss to Jeongin’s lips. “But let’s talk about it first, yeah?”

~

Two things Jeongin was not expecting to happen that night. One; be brought to three mind numbing orgasms in a row from a guy he just met. And two; be asked out by said guy who gave him said orgasms.

Of course Jeongin said yes, sue him for being weak to Chan and his stupidly hot face.

It maybe wasn’t their best idea, but they’ve made worse decisions and turned out okay. All they know is that the spark kindling in their chest feels way more than just some one night stand, and with this spark they will run with it until it turns into a roaring bonfire.

As it happens, Chan came into their life at an opportune time. When their lease was up some months later and they didn’t know what to do, Chan offers a spare bedroom he has in the house he lives in with the rest of his polycule.

Jeongin was nervous at first, not knowing how anything like that worked, but Chan, being the ever sweet hyung he is, helped them through everything.

On the day they moved in they couldn’t believe just how nice everyone was, adopting Jeongin into their space like it’s always been theirs to share.

-

Before he knows it, Jeongin finds himself in the middle of his living room surrounded by a comforting chaos they’ve grown to love.

He sits down on the couch by the fire, mug of hot chocolate cradled in his hands, and they look around fondly at the scene around them.

Chan and Felix are decorating the Christmas tree sitting in the corner of the living room next to the fireplace, laughing and singing along to whatever song is playing in the background. This year it was up to Jisung and Minho to make the playlist, and let’s just say that there are a few unconventional choices on it, but that’s the only way they’d all want it. Unconventional. Chaos. Fun.

There’s a box of decorations and ornaments they are sorting through, picking what should go up and what should be left out this year. Felix bursts out laughing when Chan pulls out a gag gift Chanbin got him last year, an ornament with “Alpha’s Favorite” engraved on the side. It’s a running joke, and kink, within the partners that Chan is like the Alpha of the group, and overtime it stuck.

Felix takes it from Chan and places it front and center on the tree for everyone to see. Jeongin chuckles and makes a mental reminder to take it off before the pastor and his family come to visit on Christmas.

Jisung, Hyunjin, and Seungmin are loudly playing cards, Jisung yelling something about how he was totally going to win if Hyunjin didn’t put down that card. Seungmin mentions that if Jisung would play his cards better, maybe he’d have a chance. Jisung sends an appalled look his way, smacking the younger on the shoulder. Hyunjin quickly starts another game to end the brewing counter attack Seungmin is clearly thinking up.

Over in the kitchen Minho shoos Changbin away for the third time, who keeps trying to help with the meal Minho is preparing for everyone. Minho crosses his arms at the younger’s exaggerated aegyo when he’s told to find something else to do. Jeongin chuckles, not blaming his second eldest hyung. The last time Chanbin tried to help with cooking ended in the fire alarm going off and eating instant noodles instead of bibimbap that night.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eunsook asks, sitting down on the couch next to her best friend.

He turns to her, not able to hide the smile tugging at his lips. He watches Muffin chase Dori, leaping over the box of decorations and ornaments and threading between Chan and Felix’s legs, who are “in the way” of their game of chase. Lounging up top one of the cat trees, Soonie and Doongie cuddle together and watch the younger cats tear through the house.

Jeongin sighs, shaking his head when no words come to his lips. It takes him a few sips of hot chocolate and the laughing of all his partners when Changbin promptly gets flung out of the kitchen again and slips on a Santa hat he refused to wear earlier. After laughing his ass off, Minho makes sure Changbin isn’t hurt, pulls him up to give him a kiss, and gives him the job of cutting up veggies for the stew.

“I’m just happy,” he says simply, eyes softening when they land back to his best friend, a warmth filling up his chest. He’s known for a while, but today, just a few days from Christmas, it solidified in his mind that family doesn’t have to be defined by blood. Sometimes the best family are the people you find and surround yourself with.

Never did Jeongin think he would be in a house with seven partners, four cats, and a best friend who visits them frequently.

If eighteen year old Jeongin was told that this would be their life just a few years later, they would have laughed. But now, almost twenty four, Jeongin has a life they are genuinely happy with. Something they enjoy. Something that makes them excited for what the future brings. Because no matter what happens, Jeongin knows he has people to rely on, people who love and see them for who he is, and people that will love them unconditionally, the same way he loves them unconditionally.

Jeongin is happy, more than happy. They are living for the first time in their life. And maybe, just maybe, being kicked out wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Hiii, you might've noticed the lack of updates...and that's because A I have the flu, and B because I have the flu I passed out while walking down my stairs and broke my arm😅

Soooo, not entirely sure when I'll be able to write more again since I can't move my fingers on one hand. M'kay, words are not wording rn so imma stop before I cringe when I read this back when I'm not sick and wonder why someone didn't take my phone from me lol

Stay safe all my stays and pls drink water♡