Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been cold when Han Jisung went to sleep the night before. So cold that he’d pulled the hood of his favourite hoodie up, tucked his sleeve clad hands between his thighs, and curled up like a burrito in the covers. September sucked, he decided. He was trapped between his covers when he woke up with sweat making his hair feel ten times heavier. It was claustrophobic. He had to get out, which was proving to be more difficult than it should have been. Sure, if he hadn’t freaked out straight away and tried to dislodge himself from bed in a state of panic, he probably wouldn’t have somehow twisted his quilt into a knot and landed on his ass on the floor, still trapped. And sure, if he’d calmed down at that point he probably still could have rectified the situation. But he was still half asleep, uncomfortably warm, and dying for a piss. So he just kind of ended up rolling around like an idiot until he got so worked up that he realised he couldn’t actually breathe.

Feeling embarrassed first thing in the morning is, he decided, hands down the worst way to start your day.

By the time he made it to the bathroom, he was crying frustrated tears and swearing like a sailor. He went to bed the night before, convinced that he was going to be productive that day. He had made a list of things he wanted to do and brainstormed a breakfast he wanted to eat. He’d even decided that he was going to go to the gym and enjoy it. What a waste of a good plan. Already ruined before he’d even managed to brush his teeth.

He took the longest shower known to man, trying to visualise the water washing away his bad mood. It didn’t really work, but whatever. At least he’d tried. Whatever cruel divine idiot had decided to make autumnal weather so god damn bipolar deserved death by pointy lego blocks. Jisung liked the cold. He liked layering up in comfortable clothes before bed. He liked the smell of crisp wind. He hated waking up sweaty.

Not sure what weather to even dress for, he threw on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He usually dressed better, but he had no intention of leaving the house, so it’d do. If he got cold, he’d put his hoodie back on.

The worst part about waking up in a bad mood, was walking into his kitchen and seeing his roommate and best friend, Lee Felix, sunshine incarnate, humming and dancing as he tried to make breakfast. Neither of them could cook very well, but Felix wasn’t one to give up easily. Jisung loved him, truly he did, but he wanted to kill him at that moment. How dare anyone be so happy for no reason? Happy and put together. He’d tied his blond hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way while he cooked, but he still managed to look runway-ready, even with the bumps and strands of hair that he’d missed.

“Good morning, Sung,” Felix sang, turning to him with a warm smile. It cracked his whole face open, making his freckles ripple and turning his eyes into crescents. “Sleep well?”

Before Jisung could even answer, Felix was placing a wet kiss on his forehead. He groaned, swatting the boy away, before taking up residence on the counter to “supervise”. If Felix burned their apartment down, he at least wanted to be there when it happened. If only so he could laugh at him.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Jisung asked, eyeing the ingredients suspiciously. “I know it’s hard to fuck up pancakes… but it’s not impossible.”

“They’re gonna be great.”

He hadn’t realised he’d been picking at his nails until Felix placed a hand over his. His eyes were humongous when he looked up at Jisung, full of concern. “You okay, man?”

“Fine.” He snapped, before placing a smile on his face and softening his voice. “I’m fine, Lix. Just worried you’re gonna burn the place down.”

His best friend either understood he didn’t want to talk or genuinely believed him, because he placed a hand over his heart and made a noise of pain. “Get out of my kitchen, Han Jisung, before I hit you.”

With the way he picked up the spatula, holding it threateningly in front of him like it was a knife, Jisung couldn’t argue. He scrambled off of the counter and into their cramped living room.

They’d bought their couch second-hand when they were in college, years ago. It’d been ratty then, but now it was downright awful. The bright red leather had dulled to a weird orange, and it was peeling in places. Felix had placed a black throw over it to make it look better, but it was still obviously on its last legs. He’d let Jisung take charge of decorating, so it looked both like a fangirl's wet dream and a rock star's basement. Band pictures covered the walls, interrupted only by records and the odd Polaroid of their friend group. His guitar, which he hadn’t touched in months, was collecting dust in the corner beside their TV, looking more like part of the decoration than anything actually useful. Felix had added candles onto any surface he could fit them, and there were a few fake plants (because they’d murdered all of the real ones through sheer stupidity) dotted around as well. There was a beanbag, or the loosest definition of a beanbag, beside the couch. Half of the beans had been lost when they’d moved from their dorm room into the apartment two years ago, so it looked quite sad. And the rug, which had been bought to match the couch, stood out like a sore thumb. Jisung was surprised it had stayed so red even after so many years.

Both of them were maximalists, so any figurines that matched both of their interests, were shoved onto shelves around the small room. The combined efforts of their nerdiness had made the room much too full. But it was Jisung’s favourite place in the entire world.

He collapsed onto the couch with a sigh, placing his hoodie on top of his face to block out the light streaming through the window. It was too warm to actually put it on, but Jisung was sure that if he actually stepped outside, the wind would cut him in half. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, sending out mental death threats to whatever controlled the weather, but eventually Felix flopped down on top of his legs. He wiggled a plate of pancakes under Jisung’s nose.

They didn’t smell burnt. In fact, they smelt pretty good. Good enough that he extracted himself from his hoodie blindfold and sat upright, pressing his shoulder against Felix’s in a silent apology for acting like a dickhead earlier. His best friend had coated the pancakes in plenty of sugary syrup, and he’d cut up strawberries and laid them around the plate artistically.

“Looks good, Lixie.”

“Thanks.” Felix beamed, reaching around him to grab the TV remote. It’d gotten wedged between the cushions when Jisung had thrown himself onto the couch, but it wasn’t hard to find. He quickly put on an anime that they’d started watching the week before, before lying back against the arm of the couch and digging in. Jisung wasted no time in copying him.

The pancakes were… Not good. They smelt amazing, but they tasted like pure flour. Still, Jisung ate them without complaint, even when Felix scrunched up his nose and drooped his shoulders in defeat. The guy already looked like a kicked puppy, there was no way he was going to make it worse by admitting that the food sucked major ass.

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

They wasted most of the day curled up on the couch. Jisung was sure that Felix had things to do, but he’d picked up on his mood and decided to stay home to keep him company. It wasn’t often that Jisung had bad days, not anymore, not in front of people, but he still felt terrible for being such a burden. Felix held both of his hands in his all morning to stop him from picking at the skin around his nails, and pretended not to get annoyed whenever he started bouncing his legs. They both enjoyed physical contact, so it wasn’t weird for them to cuddle up beside each other, and it certainly wasn’t weird when Felix noticed that Jisung was struggling to stay present and decided to place light kisses all over his face, only stopping when they were both laughing.

Eventually, though, the need to move crept over them both. Felix pulled him up and pushed him towards his room. “We’re going on a walk. We need fresh air.”

Jisung couldn’t argue with him when he went all “mom mode”, so he just did what he was told. He pulled on the biggest hoodie he owned and hid his face with a baseball cap. He didn’t want anyone to see him, even if it was unlikely they’d run into anyone they knew. The idea of being perceived when he felt like his chest was caving in was too much to bear, though. God, he felt like he was fifteen all over again, panicking over absolutely nothing. There was no reason for anxiety to be making a home in his throat and across his shoulders. It was just a normal day. No stressful plans. No change to his routine. But nevertheless, he felt like shit. His eyes continued to burn with unshed and unnecessary tears, and his head continued to buzz with static. A walk would be good for him.

He toed on his vans while he waited at the door. A glance at his phone told him it was already four. He ignored the irritation wiggling up his throat and pulled his headphones on over his hat. He looked, he was sure, like a potato, but he didn’t have the energy to care. Not when Felix walked out, wrapped in a scarf, a jacket, and a beanie, and still managed to look beautiful. It was cruel that their friends called them twins. Felix was breathtaking, and Jisung? Well, he was just Jisung.

Felix interlocked their fingers while they walked, never once caring about the odd looks they received for it. He didn’t seem to notice Jisung shrinking further and further into himself with every subtle glare, or not-so-subtle scoff. He was in a world of his own, snapping pictures of trees and pretty birds. Jisung tried to drown out his emotions with music, and focus on the world around them, but his brain weighed a ton. He didn’t even register that they’d stopped until Felix was nudging him with an elbow.

“Huh?” He pushed his headphones back over one of his ears.

“Coffee?” Felix jerked his chin towards the cafe in front of them. Jisung's favourite. Their cheesecake was to die for.

“Yeah, man. Sure.”

There was heating inside, but Jisung refused to take his hat off, even when Felix started unwrapping his scarf and unbuttoning his jacket. The place smelled like fresh bread and coffee. It was heaven. Jisung had spent days at a time holed up at a table in the corner, working on song lyrics and living off iced coffees and desserts. It’d been a while since he’d last gone, though. He hadn’t had much to write about over the Summer.

Felix claimed a seat by the window while Jisung joined the queue. That was their routine. Jisung paid for their cafe trips, and Felix got their lunch when they were working. The place was quiet for a Saturday, though it was getting close to closing time, so he supposed that made sense. It didn’t take long for him to reach the counter. He didn’t glance up at the barista as he started listing off the order. Two iced coffees, a cookie, a slice of cheesecake. He kept his eyes firmly on the counter, mapping the lines in the wood.

“Is that everything?”

The voice was definitely not from any of the baristas he knew. It was low, calm, but definitely not soft. No, nothing about the man's voice was soft. It sounded dangerous, like he was on the verge of spitting out a threat, or declaring a plan for world domination. Or maybe it just sounded normal, and Jisung was losing his mind. Because the second the barista spoke, Jisung's eyes snapped up, and he was left staring at the most beautiful man in the world. Dark eyes and dark hair. His features were sharp, like a cat's. He was definitely not one of the baristas that Jisung knew.

“Uh… What?” He asked intelligently.

“Is that everything?” The barista asked again, blinking slowly at him like he was talking to an idiot. Which, to be fair, apparently he was. If Jisung had been able to tear his eyes away from the man's face and close his mouth, he’d have been able to answer him the first time.

“Yeah, uh. Yeah, that’s all. Thanks. Just those things. Please.”

Good job, Jisung. Mental high five for that one. Really winning at being a member of society.

The man gave him a closed-lip smile, head tilted to the side slightly, before gesturing to the card machine. He turned away to get started on the coffee, and Jisung took that opportunity to suck in a giant breath of air. He tapped his card quickly, before shuffling out of the way and off to the side to wait. It wasn’t until he’d done that that he remembered how very potato-like he looked. Well, that was just cruel. Of course, the universe would switch up his coffee routine to add a beautiful specimen of a man, while he looked like a sack. His phone buzzed, a text from Felix. Just a bunch of letters and emojis. He’d seen the new barista then.

LIXIEEEEEE:
Akjshirjfh UR FACE
I KNOW HIM
U ARE BRIGHT RED SUNGIE
DISASTER GAY

QUOKKA:
Fuck u I was just shocked to see someone new!
WAT DO YOU MEAN YOU NO HIM??????

LIXIEEEEEE:
We have the same dance buildign
EVERYONe is scared of him tho
His best friend is gorgeous tho omgggggggg

Jisung turned off his phone, shoving it into his pocket and crossing his arms while he waited. He was trying to look less “bright red”. It really was just the shock of seeing someone new in a cafe he’d decided was his. It had nothing to do with how pretty the man was, or how gay Jisung was. He was just annoyed that he’d left the house looking like shit and was constantly being put near beautiful men who were much more put together than him. It was jealousy. Not attraction. Just his bad day getting worse and worse. God, he looked like actual genuine shit. There was a stain on his sweatpants from a pizza they’d had over a week ago. Why had he agreed to leave the house? His face was puffy. His eyes were probably red from trying not to cry all day. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realise he wasn’t breathing. And he only really realised when the barista returned with his stuff.

“Are you okay?”

Great. Fabulous. On the plus side, the lack of air had made it incredibly difficult to see anything, so he wasn’t able to see the man's face this time. That was good. Good that he couldn’t see his reaction. He was probably incredibly embarrassed for Jisung. Probably exhausted from working all day, and annoyed that he now had to deal with a customer hyperventilating. Jisung turned in the general direction of where he’d last seen Felix, but he wasn’t there. Perfect time for a trip to the bathroom. Fucking great. So, like any normal person would do, he turned his wide eyes on the barista and nodded like a lunatic.

To his credit, he did make an attempt to grab the coffee, but his hands were shaking so much that the barista stopped him before he could. Probably to prevent him from spilling them and making a mess.

“Hey.” A blurry face appeared right in front of him. “Hey, are you good?”

The voice was soft now. Impossibly soft. So much so that Jisung could barely hear him.

“Fine.” Jisung choked out, making another grab for his coffee. Firm hands landed on his shoulders, then, steering him towards… somewhere? He wasn’t sure. He just went where he was being directed. Followed until he was being guided to crouch down against a wall somewhere, and that soft voice was telling him to breathe. Jisung didn’t want to think about breathing. He didn’t want to think about how he was doing a terrible job of it. Didn’t want to think about how his throat was closing and he couldn’t get any air in. His chest felt like it was caving in. All for what? Because he’s woken up a little warm? Because he’d fallen out of his bed? Was that really all it took to send him spiralling for a whole day? God, that was embarrassing. But, no. That wasn’t really the problem, was it? The problem was that something new had happened. Somebody new was in his cafe. His little bubble of safety had burst. His routine was ruined. Not that he’d even gone there in ages. But still. It was supposed to have stayed the same.

His hands were being pried from his head, he’d been gripping his hat, and placed on a firm chest. “Breathe.” The stranger instructed again, urging him to mimic his breathing patterns. To listen to his heart as it beat at a normal rhythm.

Jisung focused on the stranger's heart rate. That was easier than thinking about breathing. He focused on the warm hands holding his. He focused on the way the man smelled of vanilla and flour. He remembered the taste of Felix’s pancakes.

His phone was buzzing. Felix, probably. Wondering where he’d gone. Jisung ignored it. His vision was clearing, and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was crying and a stranger was seeing it.

“Oh. Oh my god.” Jisung’s eyes went wide again. “Oh my god. I am so s-”

“Are you okay?”

Soft, and yet firm. The barista’s dark eyes were wide with something Jisung couldn’t place, so he decided it must be pity.

Jisung scrambled to stand up, yanking his hand away from the man’s chest and backing up. They were in a storage room. “I’m sorry.”

And then, because he really was great at being a person, he turned and sprinted away.

Chapter Text

Jisung wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he hid in his room for the entirety of the next week. He had a desk, and he could get work done without leaving. Quick trips to the kitchen for ramen and sneaky bathroom runs were the only exceptions to his “rot in my room for life” mindset. Felix had tried to coax him out a few times with promises of brownies (because while he couldn't cook for shit, he sure could bake), but even that hadn’t worked. Plus, in his own humble opinion, he wrote so much better when he was isolating. Well, no. That wasn’t true. Everything he’d attempted to write over the week had been dog shit. But he was trying!

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to wake up one morning and find that Felix had called in reinforcements. It wasn’t that Jisung was even feeling anxious anymore. He had been, the first day or two. Then he’d just… gotten comfortable. Plus, if he left the apartment, then he risked seeing people. The best way to avoid feeling anxious again was to avoid absolutely anything that could trigger that. Unfortunately, that was all being ruined. The stupid, annoying, beloved, Australian idiots at the end of his bed were making sure of that.

The second that Chan realised he was awake, he launched on top of him, pressing his face into Jisung’s neck and wiggling around.

“Good morning, Jisungie.” He sang, annoyingly upbeat for whatever damn time it was.

“Hrmphhh,” Jisung grumbled, trying to free himself from the bear hug he’d ended up in. His brain wasn’t even fully awake yet. This wasn’t fair. “Crushing me, hyung.”

Felix let out a string of giggles when Chan just tightened his grip and nestled further into Jisung’s neck. Eventually, he settled into the embrace, wrapping his arms around his friend. Chan made a contented noise and loosened his arms just enough to allow the man to breathe. They stayed like that for a while, with Felix moving to perch at his head and run his hands through Jisung’s hair. It was soothing. But, like all good things, it came to an end.

“Come on, get up.”Chan’s voice was suddenly stern, all traces of teasing giggles and singing gone. “You haven’t left this room in days, bro. It smells disgusting.”

At that, Jisung made another grumbling noise, shoving at Chan’s shoulder until he relented and got off of him, giving him enough room to sit up properly. “I’m fine where I am, thanks very much.”

The other two shared a long look, one that made Jisung want to curl up on himself and hide. They’d been talking about him, then. That was fine. Great.

“I saw your lyric book, Ji.” Chan said, voice soft and dripping with ‘worried parent’ vibes. “You need to leave this apartment before you lose it.”

So, not only had they been talking about him, they’d also been snooping. His lyric book was private. He shared only as he saw fit. Every errant thought was in there. His darkest thoughts and deepest emotions.

“You-”

“It was propped open when I came in.” The older man held his hands up in defence, and Jisung really couldn’t stay mad at him. So, instead, he opted for a different tactic.

He pushed his lips out in a dramatic pout and widened his eyes. “That’s an invasion of privacy, hyung.” He whined, really putting it on strong.

Chan was used to Jisung’s bouts of rage. He’d been an angry little shit when they’d met in college. He snapped at everyone, hit below the belt as often as he could, and pushed everyone away. But, he’d changed a lot since then, and there was no satisfaction to be found in petty insults. He had, however, learned that his friends were absolute suckers. The second they saw Jisung’s pout, they crumbled. So, the way that Chan’s face dropped immediately, and he hurried over to place gentle hands on Jisung’s shoulders, was oddly satisfying.

“I’m sorry, Jisungie. We were just worried.” Felix said, wrapping his arms around Jisung's middle in a tight embrace. He sounded like he was two steps away from crying.

Well, that backfired. Now he felt like an asshole. He twisted in Felix’s grip so he could poke his best friend’s cheek. “Aw, Lixie. Don’t cry. It’s okay! I’m not mad.”

But, Felix, wonderful and beautiful Felix, was also very skilled in employing the tactical pout when necessary. His big brown eyes stared holes through him, his lips shaking. “Come on, man, come out with us. We miss you.”

“But…” He really didn’t have an argument.

“Come to the studio! I’ll dance, and you guys can play me some of your music. It’ll be fun and useful for work!” Felix begged, wiggling so that he was swaying Jisung side to side. They used to do that all the time. Felix had fun coming up with silly choreos for their music, and the guys had fun hyping him up. It’d been a while since it was rare for the dance studio to be empty these days. Jisung couldn’t deny that it sounded fun, comforting even.

“Fine.”

He tried to ignore the way his friend’s faces lit up. Instead, he focused on collecting clothes from around the room. Trousers, clean ones with no pizza stains, a huge grey hoodie, and a beanie. Once he finished with that, he turned back to them. “Changbinnie hyung coming?”

Chan nodded, a small, satisfied smile on his face. “He’s meeting us there.”

Ignoring the insinuation that they knew he’d cave, he left for a quick shower. Chan had been right, his room did smell kind of musty. He’d been skipping out on showers because he really hadn’t wanted to leave his bed. He could allow himself that, only because it hadn’t been that long. He was entitled to a week of bed rotting, as long as he didn’t do it often. He’d needed time to collect himself and look up new cafes. He hadn’t managed to find one with nearly as good reviews on their cheesecake, but that was fine. Maybe he’d beg Felix to get some for him while he waited outside. There was no way he was ever going back.

The water soothed his muscles and washed away the last traces of his isolation. He was going to bounce back. His mission for the day was to be as energetic and happy as he usually was. Maybe then his friends would drop their concern, and they could all move past this little hiccup as if it hadn’t happened. Plus, the weather looked nice. His phone was promising him cold temperatures for the whole day. No sudden inescapable sun. Just blue skies and cold air. Bright and chilly. Exactly what he wanted.

He dressed quickly, brushed his teeth and did his skincare before shuffling out of the bathroom. First, though, he applied a hint of colour to his lips. To have a good day, he had to feel comfortable in his body. So big clothes and pretty lips were Jisung’s go-to when getting out of a slump. He smiled at himself in the mirror and nearly believed that it was real.

“Alright, let's go.” He said, popping his head back into his bedroom to see his friends lying across his bed, tapping away on their phones. “Someone owes me coffee, though.”

Thankfully, Chan could drive. One of the many blessings that came with being his friend. Felix and Jisung should never, ever, be trusted behind the wheel of a car. So, having someone around who could ferry them places was always a plus. It helped, too, that he was pretty good at setting up a queue for the aux. It made it that much easier for Jisung to settle into the back of the car and stare out the window as they drove. Every now and again, a song would come on that he loved, and he’d belt out the lyrics in the worst pitch he could manage. Only so he could see the smiles on his friends' faces, or hear the string of giggles that it pulled from Felix.

And then, as if the universe sensed his good mood, Chan pulled up outside of their usual cafe. Though he seemed to notice that Jisung’s mood took a plateau at seeing the place, because he told him to wait in the car while he went in for their drinks. It wasn’t too bad. He could see through the window that one of the regular baristas, one he knew, was working. The stranger was nowhere to be seen. Thursdays were okay then. He made a move to note that down in his calendar app, before stopping and cursing himself for being so weird.

“Alright.” Chan huffed, sliding back into the car with a tray of coffees in hand. He passed one to Felix, who’d waited in the car with him, before handing one through the seats to Jisung.

Felix had claimed the passenger seat pretty early on, and Jisung didn’t mind too much. He liked sitting in the back. That way, he had the choice of whether or not he wanted to join in on the conversation, or instead watch the world pass by through the window.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jisung said, accepting the iced americano with a big smile.

It didn’t take long to get to the studio from where they lived. It was technically within walking distance. But like, a long walking distance. Forty or so minutes. Usually, Felix would get the bus, or if he was desperate and feeling rich, he’d order a cab. It was the same amount of time in the car, though, given the traffic. Which was alright. Jisung was enjoying the music and the singing. He was grateful, though, when they arrived at the building. He hadn’t seen Changbin much over the summer. All of their group work had been done through emails or phone calls. The three of them, he, Chan, and Changbin, had been busy visiting family. So, the idea of them all being together again was exciting.

He nearly fell out of the damned car with how fast he tried to get out. He heard Chan’s shit attempt at hiding his laugh, but he ignored it. He was buzzing from the caffeine, the cold air, and being around his friends.

“Come on!” He rounded the car, tugging Felix out of his seat next. By the time he’d done that, Chan was out too. “If we’re not quick, someone else will have claimed the practice room.”

Changbin was waiting for them at the door. He clapped Chan on the back, ruffled Felix’s hair, and pulled Jisung under his arm in a headlock.

“Yah! Get off, you big brute.” Jisung prodded him in the side, deep enough to make the bigger man squirm and release him from his hold with a startled yelp.

They both laughed, then, much to Chan’s delight. The older man looked like he was about to step between them. They bickered a lot, and he was usually the one who had to break up their fights before they got heated. There never really was a threat of that, though. They just enjoyed winding each other up. They knew how far to push without crossing a line.

As they walked through the building, Changbin bumped his shoulder against Jisung’s. “How are you keeping, man?”

“Fine, got lots of work done. Let me guess, you did jack shit all summer?”

Changbin scoffed. “I’ll have you know, I have plenty of potential songs written.”

“Sure, hyung. But, are any of them actually good?”

He managed to dodge the headlock that time, skipping around him and through the doors of the practice room they usually used. It was almost always empty.

Or, at least, it used to be?

There were two very sweaty men dancing. Or, one of them was dripping with sweat, while the other looked much more composed. The sweaty one was all limbs. Tall and slender. He had long dark hair that he’d tied in a low ponytail, presumably to keep it out of his face, but it’d come loose at some point, and his black curls were stuck to his face. The other was shorter. If he were only looking at their backs, Jisung wouldn’t have spared him much of a glance if not for how amazing he seemed to be at dancing. But it was his face that caught Jisung off guard. Dark hair pushed under a beanie. Dark eyes focused and stern. Cat-like features.

They didn’t seem to notice the intrusion, clearly. Because the shorter man, the barista that Jisung had been hell bent on never seeing again, stopped mid dance move to chastise the other man for messing up. It was harsh. All sharp words and scowls. But the taller man let out a shrieking laugh that echoed off the walls.

“Oh my god, he is stunning.” Felix breathed, eyes focused solely on the taller of the two. He remained mesmerised as they started dancing again. Eyes tracking the way he moved with such intensity that Jisung felt a little sick. Though he supposed it was normal for a dancer to size up another dancer. Especially one with such skill.

They were different, Jisung decided. The taller one was fluid, like water. Every move he made was grateful. While the other one was intentional. There was power behind his steps. Jisung found that he, too, could not look away. Though he was staring at the barista, rather than his long friend. He looked powerful. God, and his thighs? Every time he bent his knees, his thighs strained against the joggers he was wearing. He could probably kill someone with those things…. Okay, Jisung needed to rein in his thoughts. He was admiring the dancing. Not the person.

Changbin and Chan had stopped behind them as well, heads tilted as they watched. They seemed much more relaxed, though. Like they weren’t about to drop dead from how amazing the two were at what they were doing.

And, maybe Jisung didn’t realise how intently he was watching. Not until he met dark eyes in the mirror, and saw the smirk on the barista’s face. He couldn’t exactly run away for a second time, so he just smiled back like it was totally normal. Like he wasn’t awestruck. Like he was just a dude, watching another dude dancing, and thinking totally normal things about it. Because he was. He was fine. This was fine. Felix wasn’t gripping his arm so tightly that he thought it’d bruise. Never. Both of them were completely normal about everything.

That was, of course, until Felix made eye contact with the taller one and let out the most dreamy sigh known to man.

Chapter Text

Jisung had to give his best friend a bit of credit; the second he realised what he’d done, he straightened up and calmed his expression. He could see how fast Felix’s heart was beating, the vein in the side of his neck ticked in time with it. It would have been funny, if Jisung’s own heart wasn’t trying to explode out of his chest. The world was cruel. Of course it would make perfect sense that if the barista wasn’t at work, he’d be at the studio. Felix had told him that he went there, after all. But, fucking hell, could the guy not just… stay at home? Or, go somewhere else? If Jisung had a day off work, he sure as shit wouldn’t spend it at the gym.

The taller of the two dancers, heaving and brushing sweat-soaked hair from his face, moved to turn off their music. They’d been dancing to a catchy pop song. The other one, the barista, turned to face Jisung’s group. He tilted his head at them, like he was deciding whether or not he wanted to engage, before smiling slightly. It was, to be fair, less of a smile and more a “showing of teeth”, but the intention was clear.

Changbin, the wonderful and talkative man that he was, broke the silence. “Hey, didn’t mean to interrupt you guys.” He stepped forward, so he wasn’t standing behind Jisung. “Didn’t realise anyone was in here. You guys are good though!”

“Oh my god, yeah, you guys are amazing. I wish I could move like that.” Felix pouted, but his voice was full of warmth.

The long one made a move to place his arms around his friend's shoulders, but was smart enough to see the quick glare that earned him as a threat, and shoved his hands in his pockets instead. “Don’t be so modest,” he scoffed. “I’ve seen you around here a few times, you’re a great dancer.”

Felix beamed at that, his fingers digging into Jisung’s arm that he still hadn’t let go of. Jisung winced, but didn’t pull away from the hold. His friend looked so excited that he was at risk of floating away like a big balloon; it was only polite to remain as a tether to the real world.

“Uhh… We can leave you guys to it, if you want?” Jisung regretted speaking immediately. Dark eyes slid to his and narrowed. He didn’t want the barista to recognise him, which was ridiculous. It was unlikely the man even remembered him. He’d probably forgotten all about their little interaction.

“Or, I mean, we could join you?” Chan said, “We were coming in to practice, too. We could do it together?”

“You dance?” And though he was answering Chan, the man's eyes didn’t leave Jisung’s.

“No, not even a little.” Chan laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Felix does, the rest of us just hang out with him while he does.”

The tall one shrugged. “Sure. Could be fun. What do you think, Minho hyung?”

The barista, Minho, shook his head. “We were actually just finishing up.”

It was hard not to overthink that, when the man hadn’t taken his eyes off Jisung once for the entire exchange. Was it his fault? That was okay. Well, no. It sucked. But it made sense. It was understandable. Why would he want to hang out with a guy who he’d had to talk down from an attack the first time they’d met? Jisung could accept that. He couldn’t even judge the man. He refused to be upset by it. If Minho wanted to avoid him, then he wouldn’t stop him. He’d been hoping to do the exact same, to be fair.

“Oh.” Felix said, and though his smile remained, his voice lost a little bit of warmth. “Okay.”

“Right, yeah. Lunch.” The long one said, eyes wide like he was shocked that he’d forgotten. “Shit. Yeah, we should get going if we want to actually get a table.”

Jisung didn’t realise he was frowning until Chan put a hand on his shoulder, his thumb circling comfortingly. He leaned into the sensation slightly, tearing his gaze away from Minho’s to smile appreciatively at his friend. He was always looking out for their little group. Always noticing when one of them needed something.

His arm was starting to go numb from Felix’s grip, and he tugged slightly to signal that he wanted freedom. The second his “twin" let him go, he interlocked their fingers. He wasn’t trying to get away from him, after all. Especially not when he looked like he could use the comfort. His brown eyes were wide, lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout as he watched the tall dancer rush to pack up his things.

“I’d invite you to come with us, of course.” Minho started, gesturing to their group. “But, I don’t want to interrupt your plans.”

That was polite. Jisung would probably never have done that. It was clear the man didn’t actually want to invite them, but he was saying it as a courtesy. Oblivious to the trap he’d stepped into.

“I could go for lunch,” Changbin said. “I missed breakfast driving here to meet these idiots.”

Jisung tried to elbow him, but Chan tightened his grip on his shoulder and grabbed his arm with his other hand. Of course, he tried to wiggle out of that, but ultimately, he was trapped. There was always the option of kicking the man, but that would be too obvious. He settled for glaring at him as menacingly as possible.

“What, Jisungie? You want me to starve?” The man's ability to screech should be studied. There was no good reason for anyone's voice to sound that whiny.

“I’ll kill you.” Jisung mouthed, but it was an empty threat. Not because he wouldn’t. He absolutely would. But he couldn’t while Chan was watching.

“Oh.” Minho blinked. “Sure.”

“Awesome!” The tall one said, clapping his hands together. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”

Quickly, the group went through introductions before filing out of the studio.

It didn’t hit Jisung until they’d reached the street that whatever was happening was incredibly weird. Sure, his Australian friends were ridiculously friendly and sure, it didn’t surprise him that Changbin had been thinking with his stomach rather than his brain. But, what the hell? They’d agreed to go to lunch with two random strangers before they’d even exchanged names. That was weird. Wasn’t it? Or, fuck, maybe it wasn’t? He hadn’t really attempted to make any new friends since college. There’d been no need. He had had enough. The three idiots he hung out with were all he needed.

He hung back as they walked to whatever place they were going to. That was weird, too. They hadn’t even asked what the plan was. Whatever. He observed the group as they interacted. Felix was a bundle of energy, bouncing around and asking tons of questions. Changbin’s reigning championship in the “world's loudest laugh” competition was being challenged by Hyunjin, who was genuinely cackling like a witch at something that Chan was saying. Minho, like Jisung, was standing slightly away from the group. Though he didn’t seem to be doing much observing. He kept his eyes down as they walked.

After a few minutes, though, he drifted over towards Jisung. “Hey.”

Jisung’s shoulders rose immediately. His voice came out stiffer than he wanted it to. “Hey, man.”
“Do you think he knows he’s alive?”

“What?” What the fuck? Jisung’s head snapped up so he could stare at the barista in confusion.

Minho simply pointed. To a pigeon. A pigeon trying to eat a rock. It was kind of pathetic and a little sad. But the little guy was going at that rock with such gusto that it was also kind of admirable. Jisung choked on a laugh before he could stop himself, his hand rising to cover his mouth immediately. Minho just looked away, looking awfully smug. It would have been easy to settle back into silence, but Jisung had promised himself that morning that he was going to put in effort to be a person.

“This is weird, right?” He asked, using his chin to gesture to their group.

He got a soft “hmm” in response to that, and for a second, that was it. Jisung didn’t really expect the other man to say anything else. He was content to fall back into the silence. It was weirdly comfortable.

“If you tell anyone this, I’ll have to kill you,” Minho whispered eventually, moving closer so that their shoulders brushed as they walked. “Hyunjin’s been looking for an excuse to spend time with your blond friend for months.”

“I’m only telling you this so that we’re even. Take this to your grave,” Jisung warned, wagging a finger in front of the man's face. “Felix has been looking for an excuse to spend time with your tall friend for months, too.”

Minho, taking advantage of the “finger wagging” situation, hooked their pinkies together rather dramatically. “I guess we’re both taking this secret to the grave. Guess I’ll have to stick around you to make sure you’re holding up your end of this pact.”

Thankfully, before Jisung could think of a suitable response to that, they arrived at their destination. The smell of food hit him like a truck, making his stomach grumble loudly. That was a little embarrassing. Though his face couldn’t possibly get redder than it already was. Changbin wasn’t the only one who’d missed out on breakfast because of the Australian idiot's plans.

“Come on, Jisungie.” Speak of the devil and he shall appear, apparently. Changbin pulled Jisung into a headlock -revenge for earlier- and dragged him into the restaurant. “Let's eat!”

He put up a fair fight, struggling and wiggling around, but his friend didn’t release his hold. Not until Chan sighed loudly and turned his stern face on both of them. He started a lecture about “being in public” and “acting like idiots”, but neither of them was really listening. They were too busy looking through the menus that had been handed out. When they found an empty table, Changbin made an attempt to convince his friends to eat different kinds of bland-sounding protein-filled dishes, but they all brushed him off. Jisung had no intention of wasting a lunch on something boring. No. He wanted to stuff his face with something delicious. Something he’d been missing out on all week because his favourite cafe had been ruined. Cheesecake.

“Don’t even think about it,” Felix said, his freckled face appearing right in front of Jisung. “Cheesecake is for after food.”

“How did you even know!?”

“Twin telepathy, baby, twin telepathy.”

Jisung slumped back in his chair, defeated.

“I’m getting sushi, want to share?” Minho asked, pointing to a section of the menu. “The plates are huge, so there’ll be plenty for two.”

“Wha-”

“Don’t argue, we’re bound by a pact now. You have to agree.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” If he hadn’t already slumped dramatically in his chair, he would have done it again to punctuate his point. As it was, he didn’t feel like sliding off the damn thing and onto the floor. Plus… The sushi looked nice. He hadn’t had it in ages, and he had to admit to himself that he’d been craving it for a while. “Fine. Whatever. I’m getting cheesecake after, though.”

The sushi ended up not just looking nice. It tasted fucking divine. Minho kept placing pieces on his plate for him, and Jisung wasn’t going to turn down that level of kindness. The conversation was nice too. Chan and Felix told the others what it was like growing up in Australia. Jisung told a couple of stories about his experience living in Malaysia as a kid. And Hyunjin, Minho, and Changbin chimed in with their own anecdotes. It was nice. He’d been worried that the weirdness of the situation would make things awkward, but they talked like they’d known each other their entire lives. They even ended up exchanging phone numbers when it was time to leave.

Jisung doubted that he’d ever actually text either of the dancers, but it was nice to know that he could. Making friends as an adult had always seemed like a sort of impossible task, especially if it wasn’t with a coworker or something like that. He wasn’t too upset by that, seen as he had his friends already. His people. But, he supposed, it would be kind of cool to expand that group a little.

Chapter Text

In the end, Jisung didn’t need to message either of the dancers. They took it upon themselves to reach out first. He’d gone through most of his day being rather productive. He’d woken up early for the first time in weeks, and decided to actually go into the studio/office to do work. Half of the day had flown by with him completely immersed in lyrics. If he was being honest, he felt pretty fucking good about himself. His outfit wasn’t even a hoodie/sweatpants mash up, he’d put on jeans and a nice top! Life was good. 

And then his phone buzzed.

Hyunjin:

* Picture of a squirrel *

u last night stuffing ur cheeks with sushi 

Jisung:

ha ha ha ha 

Ur so funny :/

He was glad, at least, that it wasn’t Minho. He wasn’t really sure how to talk to the man. He said weird shit and moved past it way too quickly for Jisung to keep up. Plus, the whole “panic attack in his place of work” thing still hadn’t been addressed, and it felt like a bit of a ticking bomb. 

The brief distraction for his work made every ache and pain in his body noticeable all at once. He’d been sitting like a shrimp for hours without moving. Standing up hurt like a bitch, and the groan that left him aged him at least thirty years. Chan would be lecturing him if he were there. But he’d take that over the kind of lecture he was sure Changbin would give him if he saw his half assed attempt at stretching away the aches. 

Hyunjin:

what u doing?

Jisung:

Workin

Kind of

Hyunjin:

kind of?

I’m bored. 

wanna get coffee?

God, he really could use some coffee and a break. He knew your eyes didn’t really turn square when looking at a screen or whatever, but he was also convinced that he’d be the first person ever to make it true if he sat there any longer. His brain felt like it was turning to mush.

Jisung:

go with Minho hyung

Hyunjin:

no he’s acting like a serial killer.

pls pls pls pls 

pleaaase

I’ll buy you cheesecake.

and coffee!

Jisung:

Sold.

He stretched again, letting out a loud groan as he did. Leaving without cleaning up was a tempting thought, but going off of his luck lately, it was likely that Chan would decide to come to the studio while he was away. The man was annoyingly tidy. Everything had a set place. If he showed up to Jisung’s mess, he’d probably have a heart attack. There was a half-eaten pot of ramen on his desk; he’d started eating it and then forgotten about it until that moment. Bottles of water littered the floor, and an old iced coffee was leaving a ring of condensation on the desk's dark wood. Yeah… this would kill Chan

After saving his work for the day, and then saving it again just to be safe, he got to work tidying up. It didn’t take too long as most of it was just taking out rubbish. Jisung was mature enough to admit that he sucked at keeping places tidy, but maybe Chan was right. It took just a couple of minutes to make the studio look much cleaner. But they were a boring few minutes that felt much more akin to hours than anything else. 

Cold hair hit him as soon as he stepped out of the building, making his nose burn slightly. He pulled his jacket further around him and stuffed his hands into the pockets. He’d forgotten to bring a hat with him that morning, so his hair was being blown every which way by the wind, but he didn’t mind. Cold air seemed to smell different to anything else. Like the way AC in a car smells like the air around soft serve ice cream. To Jisung, the cold smelled like peace. Like warm blankets in his apartment with Felix, and hot cocoa made with way too many marshmallows. It had a way of unravelling his nerves that nothing else seemed to be able to do. Like the icy wind was blowing away every negative thought. It made him feel lighter. Invincible.

Hyunjin had sent him the address to a cafe that was apparently equal in distance to both of them. He’d been at the dance studio, teaching classes, apparently. It was near enough to the music studio that it wasn’t hard to find a place they’d both be able to reach without difficulty. So they’d settled on a cute-looking one neither of them had tried before. The reviews looked pretty good, though. 

His mind drifted while he walked. Song ideas filled his head. Something soft, for once. A love song in Winter, maybe. He’d have to wait a few months to write that, though, so he could be in the right headspace for it. God, the year had flown. It felt like New Year's was only yesterday, but soon it would be Halloween. Oh. A silly Halloween-themed rap could be fun. He hadn’t done many silly songs in a while. He was kind of sick of writing love songs anyway. What did he know about love? The last relationship he’d been in had been in college, and it’d been purely out of convenience for both of them. There’d been no romance involved. That thought process was going somewhere he wasn’t happy to follow, so he focused back on the world. 

He arrived at the cafe before Hyunjin and pulled his phone out. Content to kill the time with mindless scrolling. Felix had texted him asking if he wanted takeaway for dinner, so he affirmed that. The two of them lived off of takeaways and packets of ramen. Probably not the healthiest. But it was safer than trying to cook. 

“Hey, have you been waiting long?”

The dancer's hair, which had probably been in neat waves when he left, was suffering the same fate as Jisung’s. The wind was pushing it to one side, obscuring half of his face. He was dressed comfortably, in a loose sweater and jeans that appeared to have been painted on. Jisung wondered if he’d done the art himself or bought them like that. A  big smile cut across the visible part of his face, showcasing deep dimples. 

“Nah, only a few minutes!” Jisung said, matching Hyunjin’s smile as best as he could. 

“That’s good. Should we go in?”

Jisung followed after him, observing the way the taller man seemed to slink around people and chairs to dodge them. Like a ferret. Jisung just kind of pulled his shoulders in and did his best to avoid knocking into anyone. The place was packed, but the reviews had been correct. It was beautiful. Plants covered the windowsills and shelves. Mismatched furniture filled the space, couches and colourful garden chairs and differently shaped tables. It was an organised sort of chaos. The walls were painted a muted yellow colour, while the counter was deep blue. It was cosy, despite the number of people filling the space.

“Grab a table,” Hyunjin said, leaning in so he could be heard over the shouting of orders. “Just tell me your order. I promised I’d pay, so.”

“Oh uh…” Jisung looked over the man's shoulder to see the blackboard behind the counter. “Hot chocolate and a slice of strawberry cheesecake. Please.”

Hyunjin nodded and headed to join the queue at the counter. It took a few seconds for Jisung to find an empty table, but eventually he spotted a couch in the back of the room that wasn’t occupied. That would do. He made his way to it, narrowly avoiding death by beheading when a man swung his arm around and nearly put his tray through Jisung’s neck. He arrived at his destination safely, though, with his head still in place. 

The couch was… amazing. The cushions were deep, and sucked him in when he sat down. It was going to take a lot to convince him to ever stand up again. God, it was more comfortable than his bed. Sure, the mismatched tartan style was kind of sickening, but that didn’t matter at all when it felt like a cloud. He sank into his corner of it, pulling his knees up beside him and leaving his feet dangling over the side. Yeah, this cafe could definitely become his favourite place in the world.

When Hyunjin returned with their orders, Jisung was nearly asleep. 

“Hyung, you have to sit down. This couch feels like a hug,” he said, before he’d even taken his order out of Hyunjin’s hands. He hurried to do so once he realised.  “Ah, thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

Hyunjin snorted, but did as he was told and sank onto the couch beside Jisung. He let out a sigh, dropping his head onto the back of the couch and sinking down until he was nearly falling off the damned thing. If Jisung thought the man was fluid when dancing, it was nothing compared to how loose-limbed he looked while relaxing. 

“Oh wow.” He said, sitting up finally. “That’s amazing. A crime against decoration. But amazing.”

It was Jisung’s turn to laugh at that. Hyunjin’s face was contorted in disgust as he ran his long fingers over the pattern of the couch. “Yeah, it's a bit ugly.”

“A bit?” Hyunjin screeched, and Jisung was reminded of Changbin. “It’s atrocious.”

He didn’t really have a response for that, so instead he tucked into the cheesecake. If the couch had felt like heaven, it was nothing compared to the divinity of the cheesecake hitting his tongue. It was the texture of mousse, and it melted in his mouth. He hummed as he ate, stuffing it into his mouth like someone was going to take it from him if he didn’t eat fast enough. He paused only to take a sip of his cocoa, and the mixture of that and the strawberry was even better than he could have imagined. So, for the small remaining bit of his cheesecake, he alternated between bites and sips to keep the flavours mixed. 

Hyunjin watched this all while trying and failing to smother a laugh. “You-” Clearly, the effort of speaking made it harder to conceal how funny it was, because he let out a loud cackle. “You really like cheesecake, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jisung grumbled around a mouthful. “Eat your stupid pastry.”

That elicited another cackle in response, but thankfully, the dancer did indeed focus on his own dessert. It was awkward for a few minutes then, because neither of them really knew what to say. Jisung was painfully aware that he’d just met the man the other day and knew nothing about him.

“So,” he said. “You teach dance?”

“Yeah! Minho Hyung and I teach a few classes to kids whenever we have the time.” Hyunjin soured quickly at the memory of Minho. “He’s a lot more patient with kids than he is with his friends.”

“Uh oh.” If he’d learnt anything from his friendship with Felix, it was that the best way to keep a rant going was to respond minimally. He was enjoying watching the way the man moved his hands, like he couldn’t portray his words properly without waving his arms about to punctuate.

“God forbid a guy doesn’t have an entire choreo perfected in a day. A day!” Hyunjin side-eyed Jisung and sighed. “Sorry, we got into an argument earlier, and I’m still annoyed. I shouldn’t dump this on you.”

“It’s okay,” Jisung said, hugging his mug to his chest. “I don’t mind.”

“What have you been up to anyway? You said you were working?” Hyunjin smoothly changed the subject, clearly not wanting to complain further. 

“Ah, yeah. I work with Chan and Changbinnie hyung. We write and produce music for artists.”

It was a simple explanation, and only half of the truth. But there was no way Jisung was revealing their embarrassing history of attempted soundcloud rapping. 

“Oh cool! Write anything I’d know?”

They talked a lot after that. Jisung told him the name of a few of the artists he’d worked with, and Hyunjin talked about the kids from his dance classes like they were the lights of his life. It wasn’t so awkward, in the end. It was almost easy. Something still nagged at the back of his mind though, and he felt terrible for thinking it. 

It wasn’t until they were splitting ways that he fucked up and revealed his worries.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to hang around me to get to Felix, right?”

That was not the best phrasing he could have used, at all. Hyunjin’s face fell, and he genuinely looked offended.

“I wasn’t.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that… I just meant-”

“I got what you meant, Jisung.” His words were clipped. “I wanted to hang out because I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you last night, and I thought you seemed cool.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not using you to get to Felix. I think he’s cool, too. That doesn’t mean I can’t want to be your friend without a motive.”

“I’m sorry, hyung. It came out wrong.”

“It’s fine, Jisung. I had fun. I’ll talk to you later.”

Ah. He was really doing great at all of his social interactions as of late. He’d have to text the man later and apologise again. God, he was such an idiot. He'd completely ruined their nice day. He did genuinely like hanging out with Hyunjin, too. And he'd know, really, that the man hadn't been using him to get to Felix. He was just... He was just an idiot.

Chapter Text

It was surprisingly hard to send an apology message. Jisung had no idea how to word it. He wasn’t sure why he’d assumed what he had, or maybe that was a lie. How could he apologise without saying too much? If he asked Felix for help, like he normally would, he’d have to explain it to him, too. He didn’t want his best friend to be mad at him. That would be too much. 

Hiding in his room wasn’t an option, so he settled for throwing himself onto the couch in their sitting room and burying his head under the cushions. If he’d gone to his room, he would have been tempted not to leave. That would have raised suspicions eventually. Maybe he could recruit Minho’s help? Hyunjin was mad at both of them after all. They could brainstorm ideas on how to earn his forgiveness. But that would require texting Minho. He really didn’t want to do that. One awkward social interaction was enough for one day. 

But if he stayed at home, rotting on the couch, Felix would find him eventually. 

He weighed his options and settled on the lesser evil.

Jisung:

Heyyyy hyung

You busy?

Every minute that passed without a response had him doubting his choices. Maybe it would have been better to face his best friend's wrath. It was stupid to message Minho. The man was probably working, or dancing, or just doing something more important than texting. Perhaps, by some miracle, the ground truly would open up this time and swallow him. He could fade away and never be seen again or remembered. No one would know he’d upset Hyunjin. No one would remember his mistakes. But… that would be kind of boring. If he faded away, he’d never get to experience the cold again. Or cheesecake. Or ramen. Or coffee. Or Felix. 

His phone, finally, lit up.

Minho Hyung:

Yes. But I can be less so.

Do you need something?

*Minho Hyung edited the chat*

Pact Boy:

Not if ur busy!

Also, Pact Boy?Really?

Minho Hyung:

I’m no longer busy.

What do you need?

Yes. Pact boy. 

That's what you are.

We have a pact. 

Pact Boy:

Are u sure ur not busy?

I know we have a pact

Dw I didnt forget

Minho Hyung:

Jisung if you don’t tell me what you want

I’m going to find you and enact unimaginable violence.

Jisung took back everything he’d thought before. Fading away wasn’t boring. It was pleasant. It would be absolutely perfect. Why had he texted Minho? 

Pact Boy:

I upset Hyunjin earlier. 

U did too.

Brainstorm solutions with me?

Minho Hyung:

His brain is the size of a pea.

He’ll forget about it soon enough.

Pact Boy:

Hyungggg I’m serious

The responses halted again. Whatever. If he wasn’t going to help, then Jisung would just have to figure it out himself. Step one: stop moping on the damned couch. He pushed himself up and walked to the kitchen. There was absolutely not a single thing to do in that room. So he ended up just pacing around with his hands on his head and sighing like a dog in need of attention. That lasted… an embarrassingly long time. He didn’t even come up with a single idea. All he could think about was the fact that he was pacing and had to step on the same tiles during each rotation or else it would throw off his rhythm. 

Whatever. If Changbin were there, he’d tell him to go to the gym. The best way to get rid of nervous energy was to work out. It killed two birds with one stone. But, as good an idea as that was, he didn’t want to go to the gym. He’d probably accidentally insult someone else if he did that. It was safer to stay where he was until he remedied the situation. So, back to pacing it was. 

His phone buzzed.

Minho Hyung:

Alright. 

Meet me at a park?

He hadn’t expected that. At all. 

Pact Boy:

What park?

Minho Hyung:

Whatever one you can get to by walking. 

I can drive.

Pact Boy:

Nobody likes a bragger.

Before he could overthink it, he sent Minho the name of a park near the apartment. It was only beginning to become evening, so hopefully he’d be back in time to get takeaway with Felix. Unless Minho was planning on killing him. The whole pact of secrecy thing would be much easier if only one of them were alive to keep it. What was that saying? Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead? Hyunjin had said the man was acting like a serial killer earlier… It would probably be fine. He was like 90% sure the man wouldn’t murder him. It’d be too risky to kill a guy in a public park. Minho seemed smarter than that.

Regardless of whether or not he was walking to his death, he had to start walking if he wanted to get there in time. He didn’t want to leave the man waiting. Lest that annoy him into actually considering the whole “unimaginable violence” thing. This time, he made sure to grab his hat before he left, and a warmer jacket. He thought about texting Felix to tell him where he was going, so at least someone would know where to find his body. In the end, he didn’t do that. Weirdly, he didn’t want to get Minho caught. That was actually an insane thing to think, so he pulled his headphones on too. If he turned his music up loud enough, he wouldn’t be able to form a thought. Jisung was putting his brain in noise jail. It had done nothing but fail him all day.

It wasn’t too long of a walk. He’d chosen a park fairly nearby, so he didn’t have to walk home through unfamiliar streets in the dark. It was nice to get some fresh air. That, coupled with his music, was relaxing him a little. He no longer felt like he was going to buzz out of his skin, which was always a positive. 

Minho was, annoyingly, already there. He was leaning against the fence, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His hands were stuffed into a large winter jacket, he had a scarf wrapped around his neck, and a hat with a little fluffy tassel on top. The man couldn’t possibly be a murderer if he was wearing a hat like that. Even with the look of disgust on his face. His nose was wrinkled as he stared at the ground like it had personally wronged him. Jisung didn’t want to announce himself at all. He was having too much fun observing the man. His face was red, probably from the cold. His hair was sticking out of the bottom of his hat, long enough to stick to the nape of his neck. Minho looked pretty, almost. No, not almost. He did, without a doubt, look incredibly pretty.

Staring would be weird if he did it any longer.

“Hey.”

“How did you manage to upset Hyunjin?” Minho asked, shoving off the fence to walk closer. He wasn’t scowling anymore, thankfully. 

Jisung tried to ignore the fact that he’d already deviated from the script he’d imagined in his head by skipping the pleasantries. “I may have accused him of something by accident.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. He just motioned for them to start walking. The park was pretty. Trees lined the walkway, and during Spring, there would be flowers everywhere, and cherry blossoms too. At the moment, it was fairly sparse. Most of the wild flowers had died off after the Summer, and it wasn’t late enough in the year for the path to be filled with crunchy leaves. Yet it still held that potential. As if all of the beauty was still simmering under the surface like a breath waiting to be released. 

They kept walking until they reached a bench illuminated by rays of sunshine that were coming through the trees in such a way that it almost looked like ripples of water. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, Jisung. Hyunjin already told me. I was surprised that you actually told me as soon as I asked.” Minho said, sitting down and gesturing for Jisung to do the same. 

“Oh.” So much for his amazing plan. If they were talking again, that meant Minho had already been forgiven. They were not in this together. “Shit.”

He did sit. More so to steady his shaking knees than to continue the conversation. 

“I was going to tell you when you messaged me, but I thought you probably wouldn’t agree to meeting me if I did.”

“Does he hate me now?” Jisung’s voice was quiet, weak. But Minho heard him anyway.

“No, he’s not even upset.”

How could he not be upset? Was the man some sort of saint? He was putting Felix's forgiveness levels to shame. Jisung didn’t realise he’d been fidgeting until Minho put a hand on top of his, halting worried fingers that had been pulling at the skin around his nails. That startled him enough that he looked up at the other man. Minho’s eyebrows were drawn together in worry. Fabulous. 

“Why? I mean, I was a dickhead. It was completely unfair of me. He should hate me, hyung. You should, too, actually,” Jisung pulled his hand away so he could point at the man. “You’re his best friend. You should be mad on his behalf!”

Well, at least that got rid of the worried eyebrows. Now they were raised, and the man’s eyes were dancing with amusement. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not! I’m dead serious.” To emphasise that point, he prodded Minho’s chest with his finger. “You should be annoyed. I accused your best friend of using someone else to get closer to a guy.”

“I am annoyed.” He said, swatting Jisung’s hand away and rubbing at his chest in discomfort. He’d prodded a bit too aggressively, to be fair. 

“Good,” Jisung said, letting out a breath. Wow. Life was so much simpler when you knew where you stood. 

“Not-” Minho ran a hand down his face. “Not because you upset Hyunjin. I’m annoyed you thought that he was only hanging out with you because he had a motive.”

“Right!” Why did this feel like a victory? Why on earth did he want Minho to be upset with him? It made more sense than the man just being totally okay with him insulting his friend; that was for sure. But it also kind of sucked because Minho was looking at him like he was some sort of idiot. 

“Jisung, listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m annoyed because you thought so lowly of yourself.”

Oh. That wasn’t ideal. 

“Huh?”

Were the trees spinning, or was that just Jisung’s vision? This was dangerously approaching time bomb territory. The exact reason he hadn’t wanted to talk to Minho in the first place. 

“What’s confusing about what I said?” Minho’s voice was calm, level. But there was a dangerous glint in his eyes that told Jisung he’d have to think carefully about his answer. 

“It didn’t make sense.” Jisung huffed, folding his arms across his chest to stop himself from fidgeting. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you think you have to apologise when you have a panic attack.” He said, pointedly ignoring the outraged yelp that left Jisung at the reminder. “And that you don’t think you're worthy of friendship without there being a motive.”

“Okay so you know two whole things.” Jisung wasn’t sure why he was arguing with the man, but he was frustrated. He hadn’t come to the park for a therapy session. He’d only wanted some ideas on how to apologise to a guy. Yet, all of a sudden, he was being picked apart. That wasn’t fair.

“Well, I plan on learning more things.”

“Why? So you can chastise me some more?”

Huh. Okay so maybe annoying the man wasn’t any fun at all. His past decision to stop getting into unnecessary arguments had, apparently, been a good one. There was no satisfaction in seeing Minho’s face drop, only discomfort. 

“No, idiot. I’ll spell it out for you, as you clearly have a brain the size of a pea.” Minho said, placing his face closer to Jisung’s so he couldn't look away. “Aside from whatever the fuck that conversation just was, I think you’re fun. I enjoyed our chats at dinner last night. I want us to be friends.”

All of his amazing skills in both thinking and speaking left him. He was speechless. That was probably for the best, as he’d developed a knack for putting his foot in his mouth when speaking. He just kind of stared, wide-eyed, at the other man until he pulled back again. “Oh. Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Mhm.” Jisung nodded a little over enthusiastically to emphasise his agreement. Sure, the man scared the shit out of him a little bit. But he seemed nice. A little rude. But nice. And hey, if he was friends with him, that meant he hadn’t committed a complete social faux pas by freaking out in the man's place of work. 

“Just send him a message saying you’re sorry. Tell him that the next time you hang out, you’ll buy him a disgustingly sugary drink,” Minho said. He leaned back on the bench then, looking up at the trees. A clear sign that he was done speaking.

“Ah, thanks, hyung. I’ll do that.” 

He got a small “hmm” in response, and then nothing else. They sat like that for a while, listening to the trees creak and rustle. It was weirdly peaceful. Normally, Jisung found the quiet discomforting, he tried to fill the space with needless chatter. But he didn’t feel like doing that with Minho. Maybe because the other man was so clearly comfortable with silence, like it was his default. 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Jisung texted Hyunjin that night while enjoying the greasiest takeaway known to man. Felix had put on an episode of some American drama that neither of them were really invested in, as neither of them were very good at eating without a show in the background. They were having more fun criticising it than actually focusing on the plot, but that was okay. Sometimes being a hater was fun. He followed Minho’s advice when texting Hyunjin, and laced his apology with a bribe.

“Dude’s like thirty-eight. Why is he even here?” Felix shouted, pointing to the screen. “I swear, is that country just completely out of child actors?”

“How do they actually expect us to believe he’s a teenager? He’s balding!”

In between annoyed exclamations, Jisung checked his phone to find two messages. One from Hyunjin, telling him he’d already been forgiven but that he was still going to take him up on his bribe. The other was from Minho, a picture of a cat loafing with the caption “My bread baby.” He laughed at that and hearted the message. The cat was absolutely adorable, a mix of ginger and white, and on the chubbier side of things. 

Felix, of course, was being nosy. His blond hair tickling Jisung’s cheek as he snuck glances at his phone. 

“Look at you making friends with the ‘barista from hell’,” He said, prodding Jisung’s side with his fingers. He screeched at that and almost elbowed the man in the face during his attempted escape. It wouldn’t be any time soon, but when the freckled angel was least expecting it, Jisung would get payback. 

“Okay, so it turns out he’s actually nice. I was being dramatic.” Jisung huffed and folded his body back around his friend. The couch wasn’t exactly made to accommodate two grown men lying down on it. But they made do. 

“I told you so~” Felix said in a sing-songy kind of way, running his fingers through Jisung’s hair. 

“Hmm, whatever. Shut up and watch the show. The bald middle-aged man is about to ask his crush to the prom.”

Maybe nights like that were the point of life; cuddling on the couch with your unofficial twin, soaking up each other's warmth as the heavens opened up outside and released torrential rain upon the city. Greasy takeaways. Resolved arguments. Shitty shows. There was nothing else in the world that could match that. It was perfect. 

Chapter Text

The next two weeks of Jiung’s life followed a simple pattern: working in the studio until it was so late the birds had started chirping, and texting Minho. He strayed from this routine only on the days that Felix was working, so that the two could go and get lunch together on their breaks. Felix worked in a flower shop downtown, so it took a bit of travelling to get to him, but Jisung didn’t mind. His job didn’t really have set breaktimes, so it was easier for him to go to Felix than the other way around. 

Changbin and Chan had joined him for the day. They had a lot of work to catch up on after slacking for most of the Summer. Songs weren’t going to just write and produce themselves, after all. They’d all taken separate sides of the room; Chan was tweaking things on his computer, with headphones pulled over his ears, Changbin was fixing a verse in one of their potential songs, and Jisung was experimenting with chords on his guitar. He’d finally taken the thing out of the corner of their sitting room. 

It was nice, getting back into the familiar order of things. The only difference was that every now and again, Jisung paused to answer the onslaught of messages Minho had been sending. Most of them were pictures of his three cats. Some of them were of Hyunjin in the dance studio. Others were just random thoughts the man had had and decided to subject Jisung to. Jisung, for his part, had also been sending random ramblings and complaints, as well as pictures of silly shit he saw on his walks to and from work. It was kind of weird how easily they’d fallen into friendship. However, neither of them mentioned meeting up again anytime soon. As if seeing each other in person would ruin the budding friendship they’d started. 

“Ah, Jisung, what do you think of this?” Chan asked, stretching his hand over his head, offering him the headphones. 

Jisung diligently headed over to listen to what Chan had been working on. It was a lazy rap, something they’d decided would be fitting for the slow drag between Summer and Autumn. Jisung had written the lyrics back in April, a love song full of yearning and desperation. He’d long since stopped being embarrassed when sharing his lyrics, so he ignored how silly it felt to write about something he only experienced second hand through media. They’d finished singing the guide for the song yesterday, and normally it would have been sent as it had been. But Chan had polished it up as though it were already a fully finished song. As though it were their own. 

“It’s really good, hyung. Almost makes me wish we could keep it.”

Chan scratched the back of his neck in a way that Jisung had long since learnt meant that the man was nervous. “About that… Can I talk to you both for a minute?” 

Oh, there was nothing worse than that sentence. Though given the circumstances, it didn’t fill Jisung with the dread it normally would. He trusted Chan more than anyone else, whatever he had to say would be worthwhile. It wasn’t likely to cause him stress. So, he pulled his chair closer and got comfortable while he waited for Changbin to finish up and join them. He was half expecting the man to ask them if they wanted to start uploading to Soundcloud again, as he often did when they created a good song with no purpose. There wasn’t a hope in hell of that being agreed to, though, and Chan knew that too well to make it a serious conversation. 

“Okay, so,” Chan said, avoiding their eyes. “I was talking to a friend recently…”

“You have friends, hyung?” Changbin chimed, looking awfully proud of himself for that.

“Yah! I happen to have a lot of friends that you don’t know.”

Jisung hummed in agreement. “Yeah, Changbin. They go to a different school, you wouldn’t know them.”

It was rather fun to wind the older man up; his ears went red and he pursed his lips like a duck. “I age so many years when I talk to you guys.”

“Which is alarming, considering the fact that you’re already ancient.”

Chan’s glare burned a hole straight through the side of Jisung’s head, or at least it felt like it did. He mumbled a quick apology, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his wrath. The man didn’t often get angry at them, so he clearly had something important to say and was running out of his infinite well of patience. Angry Chan was a force to be reckoned with, and not one that Jisung was willing to go up against. He’d known better when he himself was an angry teenager, and he certainly knew better now.

“Anyway,” he snapped. “I was talking to my friend, who works at a bar downtown and organises all of their live music. He wanted to know if we’d be interested in performing.”

“Performing?” Changbin asked, rather intelligently. 

Jisung, for his part, was just kind of staring at his friend in shock. His mind was at war with itself. Why had the idea never occurred to them before? It was so simple and made so much sense. But also, what the fuck. They couldn’t perform! They’d never done anything more than sing into a mic in a recording booth, either as a guide or for their SoundCloud. Sure, they’d all separately attempted school talent shows, but those never went well. The last time Jisung had been on a stage, he’d been humiliated. But he wasn’t a kid anymore. He knew he was good. His vocal range had improved, and his sense of self. He wasn’t a clumsy and unwanted fifteen-year-old; he’d grown up. 

While he sorted himself out mentally, Chan waited patiently. Rushing him wasn’t going to help anything; the man knew that. He was more than happy to give him the time to come to his own conclusions.

“What would we perform?” He asked eventually. Truthfully, he was kind of excited by the idea. Even if he’d had doubts, they vanished the second he saw the way his friends' faces lit up at his question. He’d do anything to keep them that happy.

“I have a few ideas,” Chan said, turning back to his computer to scroll through his meticulously organised files. 

Yeah, he’d go to hell and back for them if it earned him a chance at seeing them light up that way again. They all loved their work. They’d bonded because of their joint passion for music. And, making music for other people was great. Truly. But the idea of making their own music? Just for themselves? It was kindling for their passion. They jumped into preparations with so much excitement that it almost felt childish. Chan went through a few of their unused songs, and a couple of songs that they’d benched for a later date. He’d been creating a collection of ones they’d all felt connected to, and hadn’t wanted to part with. 

It wasn’t that Jisung didn’t enjoy his job as it was. He really did. But he’d never had so much fun in that studio before. 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

It was weird to leave the studio while it was still bright outside, and the same day as he’d entered. But Chan had demanded that they all go home and have an actual rest. Probably so that he could sneak back in and start working on fine-tuning a plan for their performance, without being bothered. Jisung wasn’t going to complain, though. He’d simply go and find a cafe to sit in and do work on his laptop. Though he was absolutely vibrating with excited energy. So, the further the cafe was from the studio, the better. A long walk would be good for him. 

Which is how he ended up deciding to go to his favourite, and previously banned, cafe. He couldn’t avoid the place forever, after all. The place wasn’t anything spectacular. Just your usual slightly dark, filled with potted plants, cafe. But it was close to the apartment, and usually pretty quiet. Plus, he had yet to find a place with better cheesecake. Not even the one he’d had with Hyunjin could compete. 

By “usually pretty quiet” he hadn’t meant deserted, but there wasn’t a single customer in the place when he entered. This had clearly been an ongoing issue, because the two baristas behind the counter had gotten to a stage of boredom where they were climbing onto chairs and wiping dust off the ceiling. There was no bell above the door, so they didn’t hear him come in. Which was completely fine, because Jisung was rather amused watching them. They were shouting insults at each other while they cleaned, and seemed to be in the midst of a serious competition to see who could clean their section of the roof faster. 

One of them was Minho, while the other was a curly-haired man with short bangs and soft facial features. While Minho looked straight up evil when he was glaring, this guy had the energy of a younger brother cheating at card games. He looked like a menace, but not like he was menacing. Which probably didn’t make sense, but that’s what Jisung was going with. He seemed like the kind of guy to stand in your doorway and whine that he wasn’t “technically” in your room. If their bickering was anything to go off of, anyway. 

Eventually, though, they noticed him. The other man attempted to throw a wad of wet blue roll at Minho and missed. It landed on the floor in front of Jisung, and both of them nearly fell off their stools when they saw him standing there. 

Minho cut a glance back to the other and hissed, “You’re lucky. I would have shoved that in your mouth if we didn’t have a customer.”

“I owe you my life, I guess.” The other man said to Jisung before stepping down from the stool. “What can we get you?”

“Oh, uhh…” Well, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d assumed there’d be a queue. He knew he didn’t want coffee; he had enough energy already, there was no use in amplifying that. But that didn’t really tell him what he did want. 

“We've got a fresh cheesecake, Jisungie,” Minho said, but made no move to step off the stool. He seemed to be enjoying the height advantage, because he was glaring down at his coworker like an overlord. “Go fetch it, Seungmin.”

“I’m not your dog, Lee Minho. You go fetch it.”

“That’s no way to talk to your elders. No treats for you.” He wagged a finger, baring his upper teeth in a grin. 

Jisung was still stuck on Minho, just assuming he wanted cheesecake. Which he did. The man was right. But, still. It was a weird, warm feeling to be known. Not that he was hard to decipher, or anything. 

“What kind of cheesecake?” Jisung couldn’t keep the excitement out of his tone to save his life, which just kind of proved the point that he was an easy read. 

“Matcha.” The other barista, Seungmin, said in a bored tone. “I’m surprised he didn’t text you to tell you.” 

That felt…pointed? Jisung didn’t really get a chance to think about it, though, because Minho lobbed the entire thing of blue roll at the back of Seungmin's head. “Shut up or I’ll shave your eyebrows off. Ignore him, Jisung. He’s mad because he didn’t get any puppy snaps today.”

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Jisung said. He moved towards the counter to get a closer look at the chalkboard above it. “And I’m in way too good a mood to question it.”

He caught sight of Minho tilting his head and blinking at him, but he ignored it in favour of figuring out what he wanted to drink. Hot chocolate was always good, but he wasn’t really feeling it. Ice tea could be fun, but what flavour? Mixed berry would be nice to combine with the matcha to balance out the bitterness. Yeah, he’d go with that. By the time he came to that conclusion, Minho was sliding a plate of cheesecake across the counter to him.

“Thanks, hyung. Can I get a mixed berry iced tea as well, please?”

“Only because you asked nicely.”

He was glad to learn that seeing the man in person wasn’t having a ruinous effect on their fledgling friendship. It was probably partly because of how comfortable Minho seemed to be with Seungmin. While they were bickering constantly, they didn’t seem to actually be annoyed about it. Kind of like how Jisung felt with Changbin. Though it seemed as though Minho just liked to bicker with people, he’d been exactly the same with Hyunjin. 

“Look at you actually doing work, hyung.” Seungmin lazily leaned against the counter beside them. “Usually you’re too busy texting to get anything done.”

“Consider your eyebrows shaved, dog.”

“Easy, kitty. Put the claws away before you scare our only customer off.” He held up his hands in mock surrender before disappearing into the back. 

Once Jisung had his drink, he settled down at a table near enough to the counter that he could keep chatting. “I hope you’re not getting into trouble because of me,” he said sheepishly. “I should probably message you less when you’re at work.”

“Oh, please, he’s just annoyed because it means he gets less attention. You’re fine.”

“If you’re sure…”

Minho blinked so much as a means of communication that it was startling when he just stopped doing it altogether in favour of pinning Jisung with wide, almost threatening, eyes. “I said it was fine. You doubt me so much, Jisungie. Should I be offended?”

“Alright, alright. Whatever you say.”

“Try the cheesecake, and then tell me why you’re in such a good mood today.”

Jisung did as he was told and shoved a forkful of creamy and earthy-tasting cheesecake. It was a gorgeous shade of green, but the looks had nothing on the taste. If he’d been at home with Felix, he probably would have let out an over-dramatic moan and made a joke about a foodgasm. He wasn’t going to do that in public, or in front of Minho, though. So, he just gave him a thumbs up and went back to eating. He was basically dancing in his seat by the time he put the fork back down, overjoyed by how good it tasted. 

“Do I need a reason to be in a good mood, hyung?” He asked. “Also, this is really fucking good.”

“Language. And, no, you don’t need a reason, but I imagine there is one.” Minho tried to hide the smug and satisfied look on his face at Jisung’s claim, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Did you make this?” 

Red tinted the older man’s ears as he nodded. The sight made Jisung want to tease him about it, but he decided not to, for now. 

“Whoa.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Why are you so happy?”

Jisung looked away. He didn’t want to jinx their chances of actually getting booked by the pub, but he also really wanted to tell someone about it. Chan had told him not to tell Felix until they were completely sure it would go ahead, just in case it would be a letdown. But, he hadn’t said not to tell Minho. Plus, Jisung kind of wanted to hear what the man would have to say about it, seeing as he seemed like a blunt person. 

“Channie hyung's friend works in a bar downtown and suggested that we ask about performing there some night,” Jisung said the words so quickly he wasn't sure that Minho would understand them, but he’d started talking already, so there was no use in stopping. “Which, to be honest, sounds terrifying but also like it could be great? I mean, they might not even say yes, but how cool would it be if they did? We’d have an excuse to work on music for ourselves rather than other people.”

At some point during his rambling, Minho had moved to sit down at the table with him. There was a beat before he responded, as though he was absorbing the information. Or maybe just trying to figure out what Jisung had said. 

“That’s amazing, Jisung.” His voice was devastatingly soft. “ They’d be fools if they didn’t let you perform.”

“You’ve never even heard our music.” Jisung scoffed, trying to ignore how warm his face felt. 

“Fine, show me some of your work and I’ll tell you if I still think they’d be fools.”

Right, because it was that simple. Most of the songs they’d written were being sung by somebody else, and they only had a few that were just for them. They had a few good rap songs saved, and one or two that were more on the pop-rock side of things. Picking one to show him would be difficult. Plus, what if he hated it? At least Jisung knew he’d be honest about his opinions, whether they were good or bad. Okay, whatever. Truthfully, he did have a song in mind to show the man; it was his favourite out of all of the ones they’d saved. The three of them had worked on it together, and the lyrics were personal for them. They’d all agreed that it was their best song. It was only because it was so precious to him that he was nervous. Which was kind of ridiculous, seen as so many of the songs they’d sold had contained deeply personal thoughts from all three of them. Their worries and anger twisted to sound like they could be anyone's. Maybe it was because this time, they were singing the lyrics, not someone else. Maybe it was because it was his voice telling his story. Maybe because, stupidly, he really wanted Minho to like it. 

Fuck it. 

He pulled his laptop out of his bag, getting ready to pull the song up. Minho stopped him with a small laugh. “Not right now, idiot. I finish work in an hour, you can show me then.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“Silly, Jisung,” he said, getting up from his chair. “I am excited to listen, though.”

That was a long hour. Minho and Seungmin filtered around the space, either cleaning things that were already spotless or chatting away to Jisung. They still had to look busy, though, so their conversations were short and usually only lasted long enough for one of them to tell him a joke they’d thought of. If it was painfully boring for Jisung, he couldn’t begin to imagine how they felt. At least he could mess around on his laptop. 

Finally, Minho pranced out from the back room with a shit-eating grin on his face. His apron had been discarded, and he’d pulled on a baggy t-shirt with cartoonish cats on the front of it. Seungmin watched him with a glare, as he was stuck there for another hour and a half until closing time. Minho answered that glare with an even bigger smile, and then stuck his tongue out to add insult to injury. 

“Hey, coffee wench,” he said, eyes twinkling in a way that Jisung had realised wasn’t promising danger per se, it was more like he was promising to be annoying. “Fetch me an americano, would you?”

“Sure,” Seungmin answered, a sickening smile on his face. “I’ll even add a glob of spit for free.”

“You are too kind.” Minho didn’t wait for a response or his coffee before plopping down in front of Jisung. “Alright, song boy. Show me your musical prowess.”

Jisung was struggling to hold in his laughter as he slid his headphones across the table. “You’re so weird. Nobody should be this happy after work.”

“Ah, but you see, my dear sweet fool, I have finished work and the dog hasn’t. I am taking joy from his misery.” 

“Hmm, makes sense.”

He waited until Minho had pulled on the headphones and gave him a thumbs up before hitting play. His heart was going to beat out of his chest with how nervous he was. His eyes remained glued on Minho as he waited. The man’s foot was tapping at certain parts, and his eyebrows were creased together. Sometimes, when a song was really good, Chan would pull a completely disgusted face, like he didn’t know how else to express that he found it amazing. The dancer’s complete focus reminded him of that. He’d closed his eyes, like he didn’t want any distractions, and at some point, he’d closed his hands over the ears of the headphones as if to keep them there. 

It was the longest three minutes of Jisung’s life. He was half tempted to pause the song halfway through, but he held that urge back. It felt a bit like he hadn’t been breathing by the time Minho handed him back his headphones. But, he didn’t attempt to rectify that, not while he was waiting for the man’s opinion. 

“‘Fools’  isn't a strong enough word for what they would be if they rejected you,” he breathed. “The song is beautiful, Jisung. I kind of want to steal it and use it for a dance.”

Okay, so maybe he’d promised himself he’d breathe after Minho had spoken, but he’d kind of had that ability stolen from him. And, maybe Minho noticed that, because he kept going, “The lyrics, and the way you guys sang them is so… devastating. In a good way, of course. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a brainless fool.”

“You really think so?” Jisung said at last, sucking in a deep breath, and staring wide-eyed at the dancer.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

“Thank you, hyung. That’s… I appreciate that.” 

Minho blinked at him and pursed his lips like he was considering saying something else, but didn’t know how to word it. “What inspired the lyrics? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh, uh… I guess it’s kind of our stories? From before we met each other.”

“Which part is your story?”

Jisung didn’t really think before answering. “Most of the stuff relating to school, and a little of the family stuff.”

Maybe he should have thought about it, though, because Minho winced a little at the answer. He tried to recall the exact words in the song, but he was thinking too hard and they kind of escaped his grasp. Minho had started speaking before he could backtrack, anyway. “The school stuff, I understand very well. If you ever want to talk about it, I’d be ha-”

“It’s fine!” Jisung sort of shrieked. He’d raised his voice a little too loud, and Seungmin’s head shot up, looking sort of startled. When he realised there wasn’t anything pressing happening, though, he went back to recleaning the same mugs he’d been cleaning since Minho had sat down. 

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying that to pry or because I feel sorry for you. I’m saying it because I think it would do us both some good to talk about it with someone who gets it.”

Jisung’s lips parted in an “oh” shape, and he mumbled an apology. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No! I’m sorry, that was dramatic. I think that could be nice.”

The cafe wasn’t necessarily a bad spot for a conversation, but Minho clearly didn’t want Seungmin to eavesdrop. He suggested that they take a walk and demanded that his coffee be made in a takeaway cup. Seungmin had somehow forgotten to even start making it, so switching the cup wasn’t much of a problem. 

It wasn’t as cold outside as it had been the past few days. It was just nice. There was a light breeze, but it wasn’t enough to warrant coats and hats. It was just right. They walked to the park they’d been to the last time they’d seen each other, and found themselves sitting at the same bench. The walk there was long enough that by the time they arrived, Jisung was no longer nervous. He’d successfully deluded himself into deciding that he didn’t care at all how the conversation went. He was totally and completely comfortable with the idea of discussing the worst time of his life with someone he was only beginning to know. 

“This is awkward,” he said, when they’d been sitting in silence for a few minutes. “Like we’re sitting here with the sole purpose of having a deep conversation or whatever, but where do we even start?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really talk with people like this.”

“Huh, me neither.” Awesome, so neither of them knew what they were doing. Well, that was great. “Hey, maybe we should face away from each other so it’s less awkward.”

Minho rolled his eyes and made a point of turning to face him fully. “No, idiot. That would make this weirder.”

“Oh my god, fine,” Jisung grumbled. Word diarrhoea had never been a blessing before, but he’d be damned if he didn’t use it to his advantage now. “I got bullied in school, or schools, a lot. I was always the new kid, so I never had any friends. I talked too much and I fidgeted too much, and people didn’t like that. Kids are cruel. Anyway, the part in the song is like more specifically to do with a talent show we had at one of my schools. I thought it would be a good idea to sing. Long story short, I got laughed off the stage. When I met Chan and Changbin, I refused to sing for any of our college projects; I’d only rap. I was convinced I sucked at it because I’d been told that I did. But, they got me drunk and we did karaoke, and afterwards they kept begging me to sing so I did.”

“I do not even know what part of that I want to ask questions about,” Minho said, staring at him with an open mouth. “Also, you’re singing in the song you showed me was amazing, how could they think otherwise?”

“Hey, who said anything about asking questions?” Jisung grumbled, but answered anyway. “I chose to do a cover of a song originally done by a woman, and I didn’t change the key to sound more masculine. There were a whole lot of homophobic jokes about that.”

When Minho made to comment further, Jisung shushed him. “No, hyung. It’s your turn.”

“Fine,” Mino said, mimicking the start of Jisung’s ramble. “Kids thought I was weird because I never understood their jokes or whatever it was they were trying to do. I got a lot of homophobic jokes too, which comes with the territory of being a guy who dances. But, I guess I was also a bit weird, still am. I didn’t exactly get laughed off of a stage, but I did get kicked out of the school dance team because I made the other members uncomfortable with my bluntness. Most of the time, I wasn’t really sure why I was getting bullied. At a certain point, being called weird starts to lose its meaning. I think people just thought I was an easy target, because I also didn’t have many friends, and the ones I did have were two girls in my class who were open about being in a queer relationship. Weird and queer started to kind of blend together as an insult, even if they originally started out as separate things.”

“Can I ask a question?” 

“No, absolutely not. I have said enough.”

Minho looked completely uncomfortable, which further cemented his point that he wasn’t used to sharing anything like that. So, Jisung didn’t pry. 

“Alright, fair enough. Thanks for this,” he said. “Super uncomfortable conversation, and I hope we never do this again because it was fucking odd. But it was nice. I’m glad you wanted to share that with me, and I guess also listen to my stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don’t get all sappy.”

“You are weird, by the way. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think it’s what I like about being friends with you. Makes me feel more comfortable around you.”

He failed to hold back a laugh when Minho’s face morphed into a mock glare. “I just told you not to get sappy, Jisung. That was sappy.”

His stomach hurt by the time he collected himself. The laughter kind of settled him. He felt like a weight had been lifted.

“But,” Minho said. “While I don’t think you’re nearly as weird, your oddness makes me comfortable around you, too.”

They continued talking for a little while after that, but they both had places to be, so it didn’t last long. Jisung walked home feeling much lighter than he had in weeks, maybe months. He hadn’t expected to become friends with Minho, but he was glad that he had. Even if it had led to awkward as fuck conversations in the middle of a park. He had so many questions he wanted to ask him about what he’d shared, but he also knew better than to push. So, he stored them all away for a later time. 

Maybe making friends after college wasn’t as difficult as he’d originally thought it would be. Jisung was incredibly glad that they’d walked into their dance practice by accident. If they hadn’t, he’d never have spoken to Minho again, or met Hyunjin. Though Felix probably would have eventually built up the courage to approach the tall dancer. So, maybe it was only a matter of time before they all became attached to each other.

Chapter Text

Jisung was going to have to put a lock on his bedroom door. His friends were breaking in way too often for comfort. Waking up to Felix hovering over him was not exactly the way he wanted to start his morning. Doing so at 7 am was just ridiculous. He thought about pushing the blond man away and going back to sleep, but his eyes were wide with panic. It wasn’t exactly normal for Felix to wake him up at that time, especially not by shaking his shoulders and repeating his name over and over again in a frantic tone of voice.  Weirder than that was the lack of Felix’s infamously deep morning voice. The guy had clearly been awake for a while. 

“What?” Jisung grumbled, though it sounded more like a garbled grumble than anything else. 

“I need your help!” Felix stopped shaking his shoulders and instead opted for pulling at them until he sat up. 

Jisung rubbed sleep out of his eyes and stared bleary-eyed at his friend. Felix was still in his pyjamas, a yellow striped shirt and matching trousers, and his hair was wild around his face. So, he’d been awake for long enough to be sentient, but not long enough to tidy up. Or, he’d been too distracted to worry about that. Once he’d deduced that whatever it was was serious, he sat up the rest of the way on his own. 

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Hyunjin invited me to a gallery!” Felix said, his voice coming out shrieky. 

“That’s so exciting, Lix. I’m happy for you.” He wasn’t entirely sure why that was panic-inducing. He was more surprised that it had taken this long for Hyunjin to ask him on a date. They’d been talking nonstop since that day in the studio, and as far as Jisung was aware, they were both obsessed with each other. 

“No! This is not exciting. This is not exciting at all.”

“Okay…Why?” The genuine fear on Felix’s face made Jisung scoot them around until the blond man was leaning against his shoulder. He ran his fingers through his friend's hair and looped his free arm around his back.  “You guys have been talking nonstop, Lix. I thought you liked him.”

“That’s the problem,” Felix said, burying his face in Jisung’s neck. “I’m not sure if he likes me. Like, what if this is just a friendly hangout, and not a date? What if I’m reading too much into this? I’m not saying I wouldn’t be okay with just being his friend, but like… I don’t know where I stand. Do I flirt with him? If I do that, will it make things weird?”

“Oh, Lixie baby. He’s absolutely smitten. I’m sure it’s a date.” Jisung crooned, placing a kiss on the top of Felix’s head. 

“How do you know?” There was something devastating about how small Felix sounded. He’d never seen his friend like this. The man was full of confidence and charm. 

“He’d be stupid otherwise. Plus, you’ve shown me your texts. You’re flirting with each other all the time. It’s definitely a date.”

That seemed to calm him down; he returned Jisung’s hug by wrapping his arms around his waist. They sat like that for a while, long enough that Jisung nearly fell asleep again. But then Felix was jumping up, looking more panicked than ever.

“I have nothing to wear!” The blond said, rushing out of the room. 

Great. Jisung bid his bed goodbye and got up to follow his friend. Felix’s room was usually completely spotless, but he was pulling clothes out of his wardrobe like a lunatic and throwing them into the middle of his floor. At least he wasn’t upset anymore. Now, he was on a mission. Holding items of clothing up for inspection and chucking them away with a disgusted look. 

“How about you sit down and order us some breakfast, and I’ll pick out a few outfit options for you? What time’s your date?”

Felix turned his wide, brown eyes on him. A huge smile cracked his face open, and he skipped over to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Jisungie. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re a lifesaver. It’s at 10, so we have like three hours.”

And then he was plopping down on his bed, and pulling his phone out to sort out their breakfast situation. 

“Okay, order food, and while we’re waiting for that, you should hop in the shower.”

His friend hummed in agreement, and Jisung took that as a sign to get to work. The closet was still ridiculously full, even with so many of the clothes piled on the floor. His friend absolutely had a shopping addiction. Jisung rifled through the hangers, looking for something cute and artsy to suit the vibes of his date. He cancelled out a lot of options because of the weather. Finally, he found a top that he could work with: A grey T-shirt with a lopsided blue heart in the middle of it. He wanted to keep the outfit casual, as it was an art gallery date, but still cute. He paired them with a pair of light blue jeans and held the outfit up for Felix to inspect.

“How about this? Casual outfit but cute accessories. So it looks like you didn’t try too hard and just effortlessly look good always. Which you do, by the way,” Jisung said the last bit sternly. “We could put braids in your hair, and you could wear earrings and stuff.”

Felix observed the outfit selection and gave a pleased smile. “Perfect! Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. What did you get us for breakfast?”

“Pancakes! And iced coffee.”

“You’re a godsend, Lixie.”  Jisung plopped down on the bed beside Felix and then started attempting to kick him off of it by stretching and rolling around. “Go shower!”

Once the man was gone, Jisung shut his eyes and attempted to go back to sleep until their food arrived. An unsuccessful attempt, because he was still rolling around trying to get comfortable when Felix returned. Whatever. Instead of sleeping, he got up and shuffled to the bathroom to brush his teeth. There was no way he was going to get to go back to bed, so he might as well commit to being awake. He didn’t really have anything to do until that evening, but he figured he might as well use the hours after Felix left to be productive. Or, more likely, he was going to find himself on the couch binging TV.

They ate breakfast quickly after that. Felix had ordered bacon and syrup on the side because he really was perfect. Then, they made their way back to Felix’s room to get him ready. Jisung dried the man’s hair, while he picked out jewellery to go with his outfit. They had mastered the art of getting things done quickly, because they were terrible at timekeeping. Next, Jisung added tiny braids to the top of Felix’s hair, letting them end at the back of his head and look like pigtails. He tied them off with small white bows. 

“Oh yeah, he’s going to absolutely die when he sees you,” Jisung said, spinning Felix around so he could see him from the front. “Want me to do your makeup?”

It had been a few years since they’d had a full makeover session. The last time had probably been in college, before a night out. But Jisung remembered the basics. Once Felix had nodded, he pulled out the man’s makeup box and got to work. He added a light dusting of blush to his cheeks, but didn’t bother with anything too covering. His freckles were beautiful; it would be a crime to cover them. A dusting of red eyeshadow, a little eyeliner, and some tinted red chapstick later, and he was done. 

Jisung observed their combined efforts by having Felix stand up and spin in a circle. His friend had added a belt, a thin gold necklace, and some rings. But there was still something missing. So, Jisung riffled around for a minute before pulling out a pair of daisy-shaped earrings. 

“You look like a work of art.”

Felix giggled. “Ugh, I know I’ve said it a million times now, but thank you. You’re the best.”

“You’d better stop or my ego's going to be too big for this apartment.”

Before Felix could answer that, there was a knock at their front door. Jisung fake swooned and dropped down onto the bed again. “Oh my god, he’s picking you up at the door. He’s such a gentleman.”

“Shut up,” Felix hissed. “Wish me luck!”

“Luck!”

He couldn’t wait to hear all about their date later. They were so cute. Jisung felt like a proud mother watching Felix skip out of the room. Ugh, love was so great. He stretched out in Felix’s bed like a starfish, and despite deciding that he was going to remain awake for the rest of the day, he very quickly fell asleep. Felix’s mattress was much more comfortable than his, so it was only normal.

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

When Jisung woke up again, he had to hurriedly do his own makeover. He’d slept most of the day away and was absolutely going to be late. Himself, Changbin, and Chan were going to visit the bar they’d been talking about and ask them about performing. Thankfully, that was a lot less pressure than a date, so he didn’t have to worry too much about looking good. Plus, he’d picked out his outfit the night before. All he had to do was get dressed and tidy up his hair. As quickly as possible, he pulled on a tight, long-sleeved black top, and a pair of loose black cargos. Monochrome was way easier to work with. He added a black belt, which he left hanging down once it was tightened, and a pair of his favourite big boots to add some height. Brushing his hair while he looked for accessories would have cut down a lot of time, but he kind of wanted to curl it. Whatever, Chan could just wait. 

The problem with getting ready was that halfway through he changed his mind and decided that he did want to look good. Which was how he ended up putting messy curls in his hair, and adding chains to his cargos. And then, he found himself in the bathroom, putting on eyeliner and lip gloss. Yeah, Chan was going to kill him. The man hated being late. But, it wasn’t like they had to be at the bar at a certain time. So, it wasn’t like his lateness was going to be that much of a problem. Plus, he was only like ten minutes behind by the time he rushed out of the apartment, pulling a bomber jacket off the hanger as he left. 

His friends were parked outside, glaring at him through the car windows. He had about fifty unread messages in the group chat of them yelling at him to hurry up. Drama queens. 

“You suck major ass,” Changbin growled when Jisung slipped into the back seat. “Chan made us get here like fifteen minutes early, so my ass is numb!”

“Big baby,” Jisung teased, leaning forward to ruffle the man’s hair. 

Both of his friends were dressed in sleeveless shirts. Chan’s was just a sleeveless t-shirt, with a frat boy kind of vibe to it, whereas Changbin’s was tight-fitting and highlighted all of his muscles. All of them had gone for wearing black, which was sure to make them look a certain way when they asked about performing, which was fine. They were all rappers, after all. 

“Oh, by the way, I invited Minho,” Chan said. “He’s meeting us there. I think Hyunjin and Felix are going to swing by at some point, too.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Jisung said, staring out the window as they drove. He still planned on getting absolutely wasted, but now he was going to have to factor in the fact that he was going to be painfully embarrassed in the morning. It wasn’t a secret that he was a bit of a lightweight, which was fine around his friends because they’d all experienced it in college. Now, two new people were going to be making fun of it. Whatever. That was totally fine and cool and great.

It’d been a week since he’d last seen Minho, and even longer than that since he’d seen Hyunjin. So, he was excited that they were going to be there, even if he was a little nervous, too. Plus, this meant that he was going to get to hear all about their date soon. He really hoped it had gone well. He hadn’t received any “SOS” messages from Felix, which was always a good sign. It had been a while since he’d had a night out with his friends, so he refused to let anything sour his mood. Anxiety had no business clouding his mind; he was going to do his best to have a good time. 

They found a spot in the car park, much to Chan’s joy. They’d chosen to arrive on the earlier side of the evening for that reason specifically. It would have stressed the man to no end if he had to leave his car parked on the curb overnight. Jisung rushed out of the backseat and practically bounced through the car park on his way to the door. The others followed, laughing to themselves as they watched him. They always seemed to find his excitement amusing, which was whatever. His whimsy could not be stopped by harmless teasing. 

“First rounds on me!” Jisung declared, stepping backwards to loop his arms with his friends’ and drag them in the door. “What are we thinking? Start off slow, or go crazy and have shots first?”

“We still have to talk to people about work, Jisungie. How about we just start slow?”

Jisung sighed dramatically, but ordered them all vodka sodas to sip on while they chatted. Chan’s eyes kept scanning the bar, on the lookout for the friend he’d mentioned. He was probably desperate to prove that he did, in fact, have other friends, and hadn’t made him up. So, they chose to sit at the bar while they waited for their opportunity to talk business.

“I’m not holding your hair if you throw up on yourself tonight,” Changbin said, mock-glaring at Jisung. 

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“Oh yeah?” Jisung’s grin was devilish. “I’m not the one who broke my arm trying to prove my muscles weren’t all for show.”

Changbin geared up to lay out another insult, but as though they’d planned it, the two of them turned on Chan. “At least we didn’t run through campus stark naked.”

Chan’s head whipped around to face them, blush already colouring his ears. “You two assholes dared me to do that!”

“Oh, don’t act like it took much convincing. You were dying for that dare.”

“What does that even mean?” Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to decide if he wanted to join in on their teasing. But he was interrupted before he could come to a decision.

“Bangchan hyung!” 

All of their heads turned to the source of the voice. A younger man with deep dimples and messy hair was standing behind the bar, grinning widely. His features were weirdly fox-like, especially coupled with the reddish brown streaks colouring his dark brown hair. His eyes were crescents as he grinned.

“Jeongin! Hey!” Chan said, side eyeing his friends in an ‘I told you so’ kind of way. 

“Would you look at that, Changbin. He’s real!” Jisung whisper-shouted, elbowing the bigger man.

“Hallelujah.” 

“These are the guys I was telling you about,” Chan motioned between his two friends, pointing at them in turn as he introduced them. Jisung waved warmly, as did Changbin.

“Ah, your rapper buddies,” Jeongin turned to them. “Good to meet you, I thought the old man was making you up.”

Jisung had to bury his head in his drink to hide his laughter when Chan started stuttering out lame defences. Jeongin winked at them, and he had to admit that he already liked the younger man. Anyone who’d join them in making fun of Chan, in a friendly way, was okay by him. His laughter only got worse when Changbin joined in, high-pitched giggles leaving the bigger man’s mouth. It was always so funny how odd it seemed coming from him. Such a buff and frightening-looking man until he opened his mouth. 

“Can we just… Can we just focus on why we’re here?” Chan said, downing the rest of his vodka soda as if it would help him. 

“You guys here to ask about the music thing?” Jeongin took Chan’s empty glass and refilled it with, from Jisung’s perspective, way more vodka than what had previously been in it. Perks of befriending a bartender, or whatever. 

“Yeah, I brought them down here because we thought it would be a good idea to talk to someone about it in person?”

“Sure, well I mean I’ve heard the music you’ve written for other people… And some of your old SoundCloud stuff. It’s all pretty good,” Jeongin said. “But, have you anything more recent you could send in? I have to run it past my manager, and she’ll want that.”

Oh. That made sense. Truthfully, all three of them were idiots for not thinking of that sooner. Of course, they’d need to showcase some of their work before being offered a gig. That was how music worked, after all. For a bunch of guys making a living working in the industry, they weren’t the brightest bunch. 

“Ah, Channie hyung!” Jisung whined, pouting at the older man. “You’re supposed to be the organised one out of us! Why didn’t you bring our music with you?”

Chan sucked air through his teeth, but kept his eyes on Jeongin. “I’ll email you a file, yeah?” 

“Okay, hyung.”

When Jisung brought up shots again a few minutes later, Jeongin helped him convince the others. He was damn good at his job, that was for sure. Normally, Jisung would have gone for something sweet that didn’t actually taste like alcohol, but Chan was clearly a masochist because he demanded they had some fucked up mixture of vodka and tequila as a shot. It burned like hell going down and made Jisung’s whole body feel warm. It tasted a little like a lozenge. Despite being everything that could possibly be wrong with a drink, he enjoyed it. He wanted more. He’d wait, though, at least until Felix arrived to back him up. Jisung could convince Chan with his pout, but Felix was much better at convincing Changbin. 

They sat at the bar for nearly half an hour after that while they waited for Minho to join them. Jisung was on his second drink, not including the evil shot, at that point. The bar had started to get a lot more crowded, to the point that they were all having to shout to be heard. So, Minho squeezed in beside Jisung and didn’t even bother to say hello before leaning over him to order a drink. Jisung just kind of stared at him in shock until he finally turned around and bared his upper teeth in a grin.

“Hello, Jisungie.”

Jisung was clearly suffering from “second drink stupidity” or whatever the fuck it was called, because he couldn’t think a single thought other than “holy shit, was he always this pretty?”

He needed another shot. Or five.

Chapter Text

Jisung stared, open-mouthed at Minho for way too long before finally coming to his senses, and greeting the man. When Minho finally wiped the amused look off of his face, and turned to greet the others, he took that as an opportunity to admire the man’s outfit. He was wearing a baby pink sweater, with a white shirt underneath so that the collar poked out the top of it, and a pair of black jeans. He looked deceptively soft, but Jisung wasn’t going to be fooled by that. He’d seen the immense joy the man got from being a bit of a bitch. 

When Minho turned back to grab his drink and tilted his head at him, Jisung panicked yet again. His brain was still making a comparison between the man’s outfit and personality, so he knew there was nothing polite he would say if he tried. He caught sight of a dinosaur keyring on the man’s bag, and mentally clutched onto it like a life jacket. “Oh, stegosaurus, that’s awesome. I love those guys.”

“Uh oh,” Changbin said, leaning closer to the two so he could be heard. “Careful, Minho hyung. If he starts, he won’t stop.”

“Yah! They’re cool! It’s not my fault you’re an uncultured swine, Seo Changbin.”

Minho swatted the back of Changbin’s head with so much force that it made him yelp and flinch back towards Chan. “You are no different when it comes to the gym.”

There was no doubt in Jisung’s mind that he’d only said that because he’d seen an opportunity to tease someone. He knew better than to think it was because he had wanted to hear about the dinosaurs, or Jisung’s opinions on them. It wasn’t that the guys weren’t happy to sit and listen to an endless onslaught of random trivia he’d collected; it was just painfully obvious that they were only doing so to appease him. They didn’t have any actual desire to know the things he knew. Which was fine. He wasn’t upset by it, just aware of it. 

“Tell me about stegosauruses,” Minho said, turning his sharp gaze back to Jisung. 

“Don’t worry about it, hyung.”

“I’m not asking for your sake. I’ve had the little fucker on my bag for months, and I know nothing about them. Tell me.”

And maybe Changbin had been right, because once Jisung started talking, he didn’t really shut up. Most of it was thanks to Minho’s constant prodding; he asked question after question, even when Jisung ran out of answers. He didn’t know everything after all, just what he’d discovered while watching two-hour-long YouTube videos instead of sleeping. Jisung lost track of time for a while, too immersed in their conversation to pay attention to anything going on around them. He wanted to feel embarrassed for talking so much, but it was hard when Minho was absorbing every detail like it actually mattered. The man had his head tilted, with a soft smile playing on his lips. The drinks helped, too. They eased his tension and had him rambling words a mile a minute. 

Chan and Changbin interrupted a few times to supply information that Jisung had forgotten, but had passed on to them at some point. It was sweet that they’d remembered so much about what he’d told them, even if they sometimes acted like they didn’t want to know. And, eventually, Felix and Hyunjin arrived. Felix squeezed past Minho immediately and slotted himself between Jisung’s legs, burying his head in his neck. Minho took that as his cue to head over to Hyunjin, probably to have the same discussion that the sunshine twins were about to.

“Hi, baby,” Jisung crooned, rubbing his friend’s back. In a lower voice, he added, “How was your date?”

“It was amazing, he’s so sweet.” The man’s voice was muffled due to him pressing his full face against Jisung, but he still managed to sound like he was fighting off giggles. “He knows so much about art, too. It was really cute.”

“I want to hear every single detail,” Jisung said. He pulled back enough so that he could see Felix’s face and was delighted to see the amount of joy in the man’s eyes. He looked ecstatic. 

“He took me to lunch in the most amazing restaurant, Ji. All of the walls were covered in paintings, but it wasn’t like…uncomfortably fancy. And, oh my god, he drew on my nails.” Felix held his hands up, showing off the rose designs that Hyunjin had drawn for him. “We talked a bunch, too, and we have so much in common. I really like him.”

“Gah, I’m so happy for you, Lixie. That’s so cute.”

“I’m still kind of confused, though,” Felix pouted. “I mean, we had such a great date, but like… He didn’t even try to kiss me or anything.”

“Maybe he was nervous?”

“Or he just doesn’t like me…”

“Lee Felix,” Jisung said, cupping the man’s face in his hands, and turning his head towards Hyunjin and Minho. “Look at how happy he looks. What do you think they’re talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Your date, obviously! He’s over there gushing about the day he spent with you. He likes you.”

Jeongin spoke up from behind them, nearly making the two fall over in fright. “Not to like break bartender code or anything, but I did overhear them. It’s kind of disgusting how much the two of you like each other.”

“Jesus fuck,” Jisung cursed, clutching his chest dramatically as if he was on the verge of a heart attack. “Don’t just sneak up on a guy like that!”

The bartender grinned wickedly and held up his hands as though he were innocent. “I’ve been here for ages, not my fault you didn’t notice.”

“What did he say?” Felix half screeched, slapping his hand over his mouth with so much force it could be heard even in the busy bar. 

“Oh, I’m not telling you that. I’ve said too much already.”

That was probably the first time Jisung ever saw somebody resist Felix’s wide, almost teary-eyed pout. But Jeongin did not falter; he just shook his head, refilled Jisung's drink, and walked off. Impressive. 

“See, Lix? Like I said, he was probably just nervous!”

Felix hummed and plucked Jisung’s vodka soda off the bar, downing it in one fluid motion. The asshole. “What? Don’t look at me like that. If he gets to be the nervous one, then I get to steal your liquid courage.”

“Do you wanna do shots?” Jisung asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Of course I do.”

Reality and time became blurry, abstract things after that. One moment, Jisung was sitting at the bar with Felix, and the next, he was in the smoking area with Chan. By the time his mind had caught up to that change, he was armwrestling Changbin in a booth they’d managed to secure. He wouldn’t have been able to remember who had won if Minho hadn’t squeezed Jisung’s bicep while laughing at Changbin for having “big showy muscles but no real strength.” He lost sight of Felix for a while, but found him again in the middle of the dance floor, trying to teach Chan how to “white girl dance.”

It was surprisingly fun not to have a grasp on the world. His thoughts were both empty and full, and he couldn’t stop talking to save his life. Moving was fun too. Dancing or just walking around. His head felt like it might float away, which was weird because from his shoulders down, he felt rather heavy. On the plus side, the others didn’t seem to be doing much better in terms of sobriety, so he wasn’t the only one making a fool out of himself. 

Jisung was absolutely convinced he was a dancing prodigy on that dance floor. His body was fluid; he was one with the music. In reality, he looked like one of those inflatable tubes swaying in the wind. Reality didn’t have a place in his mind that night, though, so he was happy to believe he looked awesome. 

He collapsed back into their booth, landing entirely on top of Chan, and tried to catch his breath. 

That’s when he had a stroke of absolute genius. 

“I want an eyebrow piercing. Right now.”

“Duuuude,” Hyunjin said. “You’d look amazing with an eyebrow piercing. I want to get my bridge pierced.”

“Ugh, guys,” Felix whined. “That’s so fun, we’re like so on the same wavelength. I want to get my lip pierced.”

Jisung lifted his head from Chan’s lap and grinned at who he had just then decided were his two most favourite people in the world. “I have an idea.”

“Uh oh.”

“Shut up, Changbin,” Hyunjin swatted the man in the chest, and then flattened his hand to map out the muscles there. Felix looked like he wasn’t sure what to do for a second before joining him in groping their friend’s muscles. Jisung, not wanting to be left out, climbed entirely into Chan’s lap so that he could reach across the table and squeeze Changbin’s arms. Minho and Chan watched this with amused expressions for almost two whole minutes before rescuing Changbin from the attack. Not that the man looked like he needed rescuing. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Anyway, my idea was that we should go right now and get piercings. It’ll be super bonding! Best friends getting piercings together. Oh my god, guys. We’re like best friends now. All of us. Even you,” Jisung went to poke Minho in the cheek, and would have fallen across the table if Chan didn’t have such a firm grip on his legs. “Even you, grumpy kitten.”

And, Minho blushed. All the way from the tips of his ears, to underneath the collar of his sweater. Jisung made a mental note to bully him about that later.

“Oh, Jisungie. You’re so right! Let’s go get best friend piercings.”

Normally, Chan would have been a voice of reason. He would have told them it was stupid to get permanent jewellery stabbed into their skin while drunk. But, he didn’t do any of those things. He just stood up, with Jisung still straddling him, and twisted the man so that he was giving him a piggyback. “We’re going to come with you to supervise.”

He might have sounded more serious, if not for the fact that he hiccuped in the middle of the word "Supervise" and then proceeded to stutter over it for several attempts until he broke off in a fit of giggles. Jisung shrieked and wrapped his arms tighter around Chan’s neck, scared that he was going to be dropped. Chan winced and coughed a little as he scrambled to pull Jisung’s arms away before he was suffocated. 

“Here,” Minho said, standing up and turning his back to Jisung and Chan. “I’ll carry him, you and Changbin try to keep the other two from falling over themselves.”

 “This is great,” Jisung said, allowing himself to be passed off. “I feel like a backpack.”

Minho turned his head so he could see the smirk on his face. “Backpacks aren’t meant to talk.”

“Sorry, kitten.”

There it was again, the deepest blush that Jisung had ever seen. Such a weird thing to be embarrassed by. Everyone already thought he resembled a cat. Seungmin had even called him out on his cat-like behaviour in the cafe. So, why was he so flustered by Jisung calling him one? He didn’t have enough of a grip on his brain to really think about that, though, so he settled his chin on Minho’s shoulder and attempted to kick him with his heels like a horse. That didn’t work so well because Minho grabbed his calves and held him still. Oh well. 

Felix whined about wanting to be carried like a princess, too, and Hyunjin took it upon himself to offer his back. That was probably not going to end well, but it was nice seeing Felix’s face light up as he scrambled onto him. Chan and Changbin took up posts on either side of them, so that they could at least cushion any fall that might happen. 

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment that Jisung’s brain turned to mush, but he knew it had something to do with Minho’s hands travelling up his legs to get a more secure grip around his thighs. Which, logically, he knew was just to keep him from falling off his back, or having to strangle the poor man as a means to keep a hold on him. But he wasn’t thinking very logically. He was thinking about the warmth of Minho’s hands wrapped around his thighs. He was thinking about how, every so often, he moved his thumb in a circle, almost absentmindedly. He wasn’t really thinking about anything at all. His brain was soup. 

Needless to say, it took him by surprise when they reached the piercing place that Hyunjin was leading them to. It was a lot less dingy than he was expecting, given that it was open at whatever god awful time it was. In fact, the place was really cool. It had the kind of dim lighting you’d expect in a tattoo parlour, but with LED lights set up above the seats ready to be used if needed. Art and tattoo designs covered the walls, and fake vines hung between shelves of supplies. The man behind the counter was covered in tattoos and piercings, but his dimpled smile made it so that he wasn’t in the least bit intimidating. 

Jisung didn’t really listen to any of what Hyunjin said to the man. It was clear that they knew each other, but other than that, he didn’t notice much else. He was way too content flopping his body weight onto Minho’s back, and letting his arms dangle loosely over his shoulders. At some point, Minho had started swaying them side to side, and Jisung was having trouble holding in the laughter bubbling up his throat. 

“Okay, down you get.” Minho patted his thigh once before letting go of him completely. There was a brief moment where Jisung was convinced that he was going to land on his ass in the middle of the room, but Minho caught him in time to set him on his feet. Which also meant that the man had an up close view of Jisung’s answering pout and dramatic whine. “Don’t be a baby, you can’t stay on my back while you get a piercing.”

Yeah, that only resulted in more whining.

“I’ll carry you home afterwards,” Minho said, sticking out his pinky. “Only because we have a pact of secrecy and all that. I can’t let you fall into a gutter and leave me to keep the secret all by myself.”

“I don’t have the brain power to know what you mean…” Jisung said, but hooked their pinkies together anyway.

The piercer led Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix towards the seats and flicked on one of the lights above their heads. The sudden harsh white light made his eyes sting for a second, but he adjusted to it quickly enough. Felix held Hyunjin’s hand, even when the piercer was only at the disinfecting stage of the process. Though, Jisung couldn’t bully the man for it, because he did the same thing for him when it was Jisung’s turn to get stabbed. Hyunjin barely flinched when the needle went through, but he did wince when it came to screwing on the jewellery.

Whoever had told him that piercings didn’t hurt was a bitch and a liar. It wasn’t the worst pain ever, more of a brief pinch than anything. But it was still painful! Which, yeah, that made sense. He was literally getting stabbed in the face. But, he’d never claimed to be smart. Especially not while drunk. So, it took him by surprise when his eyes welled up the second the needle went through his eyebrow. Which was probably a normal reaction, given how close the skin was to his eyes. Changbin snickered at the sight, but shut up the second that Chan turned to glare at him. 

Felix took it like a champ. He got a labret piercing, which suited his face perfectly. Jisung was ninety per cent sure he told his friend so, but the entire night was starting to feel like a fever dream, and he was half convinced he was going to blink and be back in the bar. 

Thankfully, that didn’t happen. He blinked, and they were paying for their piercings. He blinked again, and Minho was crouching to let him onto his back again. He blinked again, and they were waving goodbye to Chan and Changbin, who lived so far across town that they were opting for a taxi. He was pretty sure that Hyunjin and Felix were still with them when they got home, but he couldn’t be sure. The last time he remembered blinking, Minho was setting him down on his bed and laughing at him. 

“Come on, Jisungie. You have to let me go.”

“No… It’s too dark outside. You have to stay because it’s dangerous to walk home by yourself,” Jisung complained, gripping the man’s arm. “We have a perfectly good couch. Oh. No, we don’t actually. Our couch sucks. Just stay in here. We’ll have a best friend sleepover. As long as you don’t snore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m so serious right now, hyung.”

Minho complained a bit more, but eventually relented. Delighted by his victory, Jisung leapt off the bed to find them both something to wear to bed. He threw a pair of sweatpants, clean ones without stains, at Minho, and a graphic t-shirt. Jisung wore much the same, though he also pulled on a hoodie to keep out the chill of the night. 

It wasn’t until they were lying in the bed, and Jisung was almost asleep, that Minho mumbled, “I don’t snore, by the way.”

It wouldn’t matter if he did. When Jisung closed his eyes, he slept like a rock. Nothing could have woken him up. The man could have been opera singing in his sleep for all Jisung knew, and it wouldn’t have mattered.

Chapter Text

The world was alive with chaos when Jisung woke up. Which, ordinarily, might have been fine, but the sharp pain in his head and nausea in his stomach meant that everything was too much. His phone was ringing somewhere in the room, and he could hear shouting echoing down the hall. It felt as though there was a team of sadistic fuckers hammering nails into the walls of his brain.

Peeling his face from his pillow was a whole new issue. His eyebrow and the pillowcase had attached themselves to each other with dried blood. Right. He’d decided to get a piercing while drunk. Awesome. Next on his list of things to sort out was the noise. A quick and blind scramble towards the first noise told him that he had no intention of dealing with that phone call any time soon. His father didn’t often feel the need to speak to him, so seeing his name lighting up his phone screen wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight. As for the other noise? Well, he’d rather deal with that than the former. 

The nausea in his stomach grew tenfold as he padded down the hallway, his eyes open just enough to see where he was going. Why would his father be ringing him? What had happened? Who had he pissed off in a past life to have to deal with emotions and a hangover all at once? 

“Why the fuck are you yelling?” He grumbled, his bleary eyes struggled to take in the scene in front of him. Minho was gesturing wildly at their empty kitchen cabinets, while Felix sat on the counter looking like a wounded puppy. Hyunjin was just kind of standing off to the side, observing this all with a pained look on his face. Good. At least Jisung wasn’t the only one with a hangover. 

“You have no fucking food. At all. Nothing but ramen. How do you have nothing in your press? Ramen and all of the fucking spices anyone could possibly need. No real food though!” Minho shouted. “How are you two still alive?”

“Inside voices, hyung. Please,” Hyunjin said, rubbing at his temples.

Jisung had forgotten that the two dancers had spent the night. He had basically demanded that Minho stay over. God. That was embarrassing. The man's first time in their apartment, and he’d been denied an exit. The sharp noise of Jisung’s ringtone halted that train of thought. He considered putting his phone in the sink, or maybe going and flushing it down the toilet? Throwing it out the window was another solid idea. Instead, he just switched off the ringer, placed it in the empty cabinet that Minho was holding open, and slammed the doors shut. 

“You’re hungry? Let's go out to eat. That’s how we’re still alive, hyung.”

The man gave him a strange look, like he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or concerned by his tone. Jisung wasn’t going to stick around and wait for him to make up his mind. He needed to get dressed. More importantly, he needed to get out of whatever room Felix was in, because his best friend was staring at him like he knew exactly where his mood had come from. That wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Not when he’d promised himself that he was going to be in a good mood for the foreseeable future. 

The last thing he’d wanted was for Felix to follow him back to his room. He stood in the doorway while Jisung changed, hands on his hips and a concerned look on his face. Jisung tried to ignore him, he really did, but eventually he got tired of feeling the weight of the other man’s eyes on his back. 

“What?” He snapped.

“Last time you put your phone in cupboard, your family was trying to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.”

Felix held his hands up, his eyes wider than what should have been possible. “I just… I’m here for you, okay?”

Jisung deflated like a balloon that someone had failed to tie shut. His mood wasn’t Felix's fault or problem. He had no right to be shitty with him. He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Felix’s waist, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. “Sorry, Lix. Shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jisungie. I get it.”

And that was a nice idea, but it wasn’t really the truth. Felix was his best friend. His twin. Most of the time, he did get it. Most of the time, he could understand. But when it came to Jisung’s family drama, Felix would never know what it was like to grow up the way Jisung did. Which was a good thing. He was glad that his best friend couldn’t understand. He really was. But, a really selfish part of him wanted somebody to know what it was like. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like such a freak all of the time. A truly awful part of him hated Felix a little bit for it. His friend had grown up with home-cooked dinners and family movie nights. Jisung had grown up with his neighbours’ pity dinners and a bile in his throat when he heard the word “family”. When Felix had an argument with his dad, the worst they did was raise their voices at each other. When Jisung fought with his dad… But none of that mattered. Because that was only a small, awful part of him. The bigger parts of Jisung knew that it didn’t matter that Felix couldn’t understand his upbringing. The man had made sure that Jisung never felt alone again. He’d taught Jisung the meaning of the word “home". He’d helped him build his own makeshift family. Jisung was grateful that Felix would never know the loneliness that he did.

“Yeah, man. Come on, let's go eat before our guests cannibalise each other.”

Felix laughed before untangling himself from Jisung’s hold and disappearing down the hall and into his own bedroom. Likely to get changed. Seeing that, he was reminded of the fact that Minho didn’t have a change of clothes, and was standing in their kitchen wearing yesterday's jeans and the t-shirt Jisung had given him to sleep in. The jeans would probably be fine, but he’d be a terrible host if he didn’t at least give the man a jumper. So, before he went back to the kitchen, he grabbed an oversized black hoodie to give him. He was sure that Felix would find something to give Hyunjin, because while it would be hard for the Australian to find anything long enough to fit the taller man, it would be impossible for Jisung. 

There were three steaming mugs on the counter when he made it back to the kitchen. Minho, baring his upper teeth in his usual half smile, traded Jisung a mug of hot water for the hoodie. 

“There’s sea salt in it, for your piercing. I still can’t believe you guys have sea salt but no actual food.”

Normally, it might have amused him how quickly Minho covered up his kindness with an insult. As it was, he didn’t really have it in him to laugh at the man’s obvious discomfort, so he just thanked him and used the water and a cotton swab to clean his eyebrow. When he was done with that, Hyunjin opened the cabinet and passed his phone back to him. 

“No, thanks.”

“You don’t want to bring it with you?”

“No, thanks,” Jisung repeated, stuffing his phone into one of the kitchen drawers instead. “I’ve decided to go cold turkey on the whole thing.”

“You’re quitting…Having a phone?” Hyunjin tilted his head in confusion. “How will you talk to people?”

“By speaking to them. In person. Like we’re doing right now.”

“No, but like, how will you text people?”

Felix, because he really was an angel, came back into the room at that point. He made a show of stuffing his own phone into the drawer beside Jisung’s. “A detox day sounds fun.”

Hyunjin looked between them like they’d each grown an extra head. He was holding his phone in a vice grip like he was afraid someone might take it from him. To express his horror, he made a show of drawing his eyebrows together, which only served to smush the skin up against his fresh bridge piercing. The man let out a rather dramatic yelp, and started shaking his hands around like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. Which, okay, that was fair. Jisung probably would have just slapped his hand over the piercing on autopilot and made it worse. 

“Idiot,” Minho said, his voice was an angry hiss, but his face was soft and amused. “Serves you right for making impulsive decisions while drunk.”

“Shut up, asshole.” Fear immediately flashed over Hyunjin’s face as the words tumbled out, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. I’m sorry, hyung.”

But Minho looked like he was enjoying the man’s fear. He stepped closer to him, tilting his head and blinking. It was kind of insane how he managed to make blinking look scary. Faster than anything, he swiped the kitchen roll off the counter and ripped off a sheet. “You need to wash your mouth out, Hwang Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin clasped his mouth shut as tight as possible and held his hands out in front of him like he was seriously considering pushing Minho away. Jisung, or even Felix, probably could have stepped in to help him out. But both of them were too busy watching the show. Minho stepped closer, and Hyunjin backed up. They continued like that for a while, until Minho lunged forward, taking Hyunjin by surprise enough that he opened his mouth. The kitchen roll was immediately shoved past his lips.

That was enough to make a hungover Jisung gag. The thought of dry kitchen paper in an already dry mouth was quite possibly the worst thing ever. Clearly, Hyunjin was thinking the same because he doubled over, looking like he might throw up right in the middle of the kitchen. Minho skipped away, giggling like a menace. 

It took them longer than Jisung would have preferred to collect themselves and finally leave to get food. It wasn’t that he was hungry, just that he knew they would be leaving and he didn’t want to wait. It was ridiculously hard to relax or have fun if there was a task looming over him. Truthfully, though, breakfast wasn’t the thing causing anxiety to bloom in his chest and weave across his shoulders. At some point, he would have to ring his father back. If he didn’t, it was likely that the man would show up at their apartment. He’d never set foot in their space before, and Jisung wanted to keep it that way. 

Minho bumped shoulders with him as they walked, and Jisung didn’t have to turn his head to see that the man was trying to catch his eye. The longer he ignored him, the more Minho bumped into him. It was tempting to just pretend he didn’t notice the man’s attempts, but it was also starting to become annoying.

“What?”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, hyung.”

He made it about halfway through breakfast before he had to excuse himself. He didn’t even particularly remember reaching the cafe or ordering. But he did remember pushing the plate of pancakes towards Felix, and telling everyone as politely as possible that he had to leave. It was absolutely ridiculous that he was twenty-five years old and still freaking out over something as simple as a phone call with his father. Jisung was absolutely fed up. He was going to harness that annoyance and use it as confidence instead. If he was annoyed, he wasn’t scared. 

The walk back to his apartment was a blur. He was too lost in his thoughts to take anything in. He’d joked about it with Chan in college, they’d both suffered from dissociative episodes, and decided to start calling it “fast travel”. Jisung didn’t remember closing the apartment door behind himself, but he knew he had. He didn’t remember taking his phone out of the drawer, but it was in his hand. Twelve missed calls, but not a single text message. Of course. His father didn’t feel a need to explain himself, so why would he have texted him?

Jisung shook his hands out and pressed the call button. Their kitchen wasn’t the ideal size for pacing, but he’d make do. In typical asshole fashion, his father didn’t answer until the very last ring. 

“How nice of you to spare a moment of your precious time to call me back, son.” The man’s voice wasn’t anything special. He sounded like a regular, gruff, middle-aged man. Yet, the sound of it sent a wave of fear down Jisung’s back.

“Sorry, Father. I was with…” Lying wasn’t recommended when it came to Jisung’s father, but introducing new names into the mix would be worse. Was it really lying if he was just leaving details out? “Felix. I left my phone at home. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm,” His father said. “You know I don’t like that boy. Every moment you spend with him, and his faggot lifestyle, is you taking a step away from God.”

This was a fight that Jisung would never win. He had been willing, for the most part, to let his father believe that he hung out with Felix as a way to convince the boy to leave the path of sin. It was clear that all Jisung had really been doing was encouraging Felix to sin more. Not that his father would ever know that. He’d made the mistake of calling a boy pretty when he was thirteen, and his father had whipped him so hard with the belt that he still had scars from it. 

“I know, Father. I’m sorry. Why was it that you were ringing me? Did something happen?”

He heard the apartment door click open, but ignored it. Felix knew why he had left, so he’d probably go hang out in his own room until Jisung gave him the all clear. Plus, he didn’t really have the mental energy to spend on wondering why he’d returned so soon. 

“Do I need a reason to call my son?”

“Of course not, Father.”

“When are you coming home? Your mother misses you.”

His mother had told him he wasn’t welcome to return. Not that he ever wanted to. But, she’d caught him kissing Felix once (God forbid best friends have their first kiss together), and told him that if he left and didn’t come back, she’d keep it a secret from his father. Not an act of kindness. She’d never wanted a son. Especially not one as pathetic as Jisung.  

“Work has been busy. I don’t know when I’ll get time off.”

“Sitting in a studio playing around with music isn’t a job, Jisung,” his father said, his voice patronising. “I had hoped you’d grow out of that foolishness.”

Another reason he’d been happy to take his mother up on her offer. “It pays the bills.”

“You wouldn’t have bills to pay if you’d stayed here, where you’re needed. A good child of God would have stayed to help at home.”

This was not an argument he wanted to have again. “I’m sorry, Father. I can’t get home at the moment. As I said, work is busy this time of the year.”

Footsteps echoed down the hall, but halted soon enough that Jisung figured that Felix was probably in the sitting room. 

“I do not care. You are needed at home. Your family is more important than a job.”

Deep breaths. He needed to remember to take deep breaths. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly. Pacing wasn’t helping, so he opted for sitting cross-legged on the cold kitchen tiles. “Why am I needed?”

“Because it is your duty!” His father’s voice rose. Not quite a yell, but verging on one. “You are a selfish brat, and I have put up with it for the past few years, but enough is enough. You will come home, Jisung. Even if I have to drag you back. Your mother is sick. She can’t do all the jobs alone. Grow up and stop acting like a pathetic child.”

“Have you considered helping her with the chores yourself?” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

The yell completely left his father’s voice. It became cold and low. “No. You will help her. Since you want to act like a woman, going around and kissing men. You can, at the very least, do women's jobs too. Or is that too much hard work for a faggot like you?”

Oh.

His mother had told him.

Chapter Text

“W-what?” 

Jisung made the split second decision to act stupid. If he pretended that he had no idea what his father was on about, maybe he could get out of the conversation. Though mostly he was acting stupid because his vision had started to swim, and the cold kitchen tiles under him weren’t helping to ground him anymore. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, boy. Pack your bags. Your mother and I will be there to pick you up tomorrow morning.”

Where? Did the man really expect Jisung to tell him where he lived? Probably. It’s not like he’d ever disobeyed his father outright before, except for the kissing boys part. He’d definitely broken that rule. A few times. Too many times. Not that he intended to admit to that.

“I really don’t-” Jisung hiccuped. Awkward. “I don't think that’s necessary.”

“I don’t care what you think,” his father said, the icy tone remaining in his voice. God. Jisung wished he’d at least yell. The calm facade really made him worse. “This is what is best for you. You will come home. You will repent.”

The realisation that he felt like a child put the air back in his lungs. Because he wasn’t a child, he was a grown ass adult. His father couldn’t order him around anymore. And he certainly couldn’t stop him if he wanted to press the lovely red hang-up button. What was he going to do? Call back? Keep calling back? So what? It’s not like Jisung was ever going to be dumb enough to pick up the phone again.

Oh God, he’d actually pressed it. 

He’d hung up on his father. 

Was that a bigger sin than kissing a boy? Probably not. In his father’s eyes, it definitely was, though. That was great. He had the shovel anyway; he might as well keep digging. His phone screen lit up again, an incoming call. Just keep digging. He blocked his father’s number. Jisung started laughing. It was a little hysterical-sounding. Loud giggles broken up by the occasional hiccup or “oh my God”. It was kind of therapeutic, though. So, he just kept laughing. Up until the kitchen door clicked open, and a very long man stuck his head through the door. 

Hyunjin’s face was contorted in both worry and amusement. Like he wasn’t sure whether or not to laugh at Jisung, who was curled up in a ball and giggling like a hyena, or to be concerned for him. To be fair, Jisung was also a little torn. The rational part of his mind had recognised that Hyunjin had walked in and was begging him to stop laughing. The part of his mind that had taken over, though, really didn’t give a fuck. Because he’d just hung up on his father. His fucking father. He was absolutely going to die. His birthday was just around the corner, but he wasn’t going to survive until then, because his father was going to hunt him down and bury him alive. 

“Jisung?” Hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, and from Jisung’s position on the floor, he looked ridiculously tall. Though once he got as far as him, the man crouched down. “What happened?”

“I hung up on him!” There was definitely a manic edge to his voice, but he wasn’t going to worry about that. “Aren’t you supposed to be having breakfast with the others?”

“I forgot my power bank, my phone was going to die,” Hyunjin said. “Your dad?”

“My father.” Not a necessary correction, given that the two things really did have the same meaning. But calling the man his dad felt…wrong somehow. 

“Right.” A simple word, but the way Hyunjin said it, and the pinched expression on his face, said that he understood how much that correction meant. “Look, Jisung. I know we don’t really have the kind of dynamic where we talk about serious shit, maybe because we don’t know each other well enough. Or maybe that’s just not the kind of friendship we’ll have. But in this situation, you have to know that I’ll listen. I might even understand. Even if we never talk about anything heavy ever again. Because you’re clearly not doing so great about whatever just happened. But, if you don't want to talk, that’s fine too.”

“I don’t think I can talk about it,” Jisung said, and the laughter creeping up his chest had stopped. A bubble, or a rock, had wedged itself in his throat at the idea of even thinking about it anymore, never mind talking about it. “Not because I don’t trust you. It’s just… I just can’t right now."

“Cool. That’s fine.” Hyunjin stood up and offered him a hand. “Put your shoes back on, we’re going out.”

“What? No-”

“Oh no, no arguments. We’re going somewhere and that’s final.”

“Whe-”

“It’s a surprise. Come on.”

Maybe he should have just fucking talked to the guy. Then he wouldn’t have to shove his shoes on, and go outside into the public with bloodshot eyes and the shakiest hands in the world. Hyunjin was evil, he decided. Actually evil. Not like Minho and his mask, who’s really just a menace. No, Hyunjin had taken the crown and become king of all of their evilish friends. The cherry on top was that he wouldn’t tell Jisung where they were going. He hated surprises. Well, no. Sometimes they were fun. Correction: he hated not knowing things that he wanted to know. He hated knowing that there was going to be a surprise. 

Hyunjin made him walk all the way back to the pub they’d been at the previous night so that he could collect his car. He very well could have left Jisung in the house and come back once he’d done that part. But whatever. The fresh air was making him feel a little more human. Distracted by the smell of the breeze and the burn of the cold air on his face, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Hyunjin spoke up.

“Are you angry?” He asked. At Jisung’s confused expression, he clarified. “At your father?”

Oh. Was he? Jisung hadn’t really thought about that. He felt… Small. Exhausted. Scared. But when he focused on those emotions, he was angry. Really angry. The kind of rage he hadn’t felt since his first taste of freedom from his father: college. It was different now, though. When he’d felt it then, he’d wanted to take it out on the world. He’d bitten everyone and everything that got near because he was scared that any sort of vulnerability would become another cage to be stuck in. Now, though, his rage was for himself. Internal. Simmering. Like a bomb waiting to go off, that would affect nobody but him. It was itchy. Ill-fitting. Not a reflection of his father’s anger. Not anymore. This anger was his and his alone. He’d wielded his father’s hand-me-down rage like a weapon. But, this felt more like armour. 

“Yes.”

Hyunjin turned his head slightly so that he could look at Jisung. At the fists he was clenching and unclenching. The quick breaths he was pulling through his nose. The tightness of his shoulders. “Good. You should be.”

That felt wrong, but Jisung wasn’t going to correct him. Anger had never felt like a good emotion. It had definitely never felt like a safe emotion. He didn’t want to be a raging fire burning everyone who got close. He didn’t want to feel off kilter. He wanted to feel normal. Happy. He wanted to feel like the Jisung he’d promised himself he would be. “Okay,” he said instead of voicing his thoughts. 

“I don’t know what happened. But if you’re angry, that means you know you didn’t deserve it. That’s good.”

It was Jisung’s turn to eye Hyunjin at that. He looked like he always did. The top of his hair had been put into little pigtails (probably done by Felix), he hadn’t removed his eyeliner from last night (but that just made it look cooler), and his face was a calm mask. But his eyes were fierce. He was angry too, just better at hiding it. Jisung realised that he didn’t know much about Hyunjin, aside from the fact that he was a dancer and enjoyed overly sweet coffee. They’d hung out, but Jisung had never really asked questions; he’d just enjoyed being in his company. He made a mental note to do better at the whole making friends thing. 

They were silent for the rest of the walk and most of the drive. Though it was entirely possible that it had only been a small portion of the drive. Jisung had no idea how far away they were going, he was just hoping it was somewhere within the city limits. He asked where they were going multiple times, and eventually Hyunjin got so annoyed that he turned the radio up full blast. Not that that was going to stop Jisung. If the man didn’t want to tell him what was happening, then he was going to make sure to be as much of an annoyance as possible. He was right, though; they were staying within city limits. Just not a part of the city Jisung had ever been to before. 

The car turned into a sparse part of town, with a few factories scattered about. Ah, Hyunjin had brought him here to kill him. That was definitely a surprise. Eventually, they pulled up outside of a large square building. Relatively factory-looking, given that it was mostly steel and concrete. There was a splash of something bright green painted on the wall, but he couldn’t read it from where they parked.

“Minho brought me here a few years ago. I thought it might be good for you, too.”

So, probably not his intended murder site. Though Minho seemed like the kind of guy who, if he were a killer, he’d bring his victims out and show them in advance where they were going to die. Just to really scare them. Maybe Hyunjin had learned a thing or two from him. 

“Where are we?”

Hyunjin’s grin was wicked. He slipped out of the car without a word and strode straight for the building. Not even waiting to see if Jisung was following. Cocky asshole.

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

A rage room. Hyunjin had brought him to a rage room. He was a beautiful genius, and drunk Jisung had been right for deciding they were now best friends the night before. The weight of the ear defenders was soothing, grounding. But the hammer in his hands was a different story. He felt absolutely untouchable, and also very much like he was allowed, no, encouraged, to feel all of the anger inside of him. The old TV was his first victim; he imagined his father’s response to catching him watching TV as a kid (that’s how the devil gets into your brain) and slammed the hammer into the glass, the sides, the shards, until it was a dented mess. The desk got it next; his arms burned with the force he was using to obliterate the thing, but it felt good. It felt purifying. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Hyunjin was there too. Going ham on a bunch of glass bottles on the other side of the room. But he was too focused on destruction. Every item he targeted was a specific memory of his father that had haunted him. Plates that he’d thrown at Jisung were now plates that Jisung threw against the wall. The chair he’d made him sit on for seventeen straight hours in the basement to repent for burning dinner was now a mangled scrap of wood. 

He was panting by the time they ran out of time, and things to break. His arms felt useless. His legs wobbled beneath him. His jaw hurt from how hard he’d been clenching it shut. He had never felt better. Hyunjin clapped him on the back as they left, before winding an arm around his shoulders. The dancer was equally as dishevelled. One of his pigtails had fallen out, and his hair was a tousled mess. But the grin and glee in his eyes matched Jisung’s perfectly. They had clearly both needed that. 

“Alright, one last stop before I bring you home,” Hyunjin said, his grin softening into a real smile. One that reached his eyes and carved dimples into his face. “I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

“Is this a surprise, too?”

“Nah, I’ve tortured you enough. We’re making a stop for cheesecake.”

“Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man. I would pledge my life to you if Minho hadn’t already bound me to  a life pact or something along those lines?”

Hyunjin made a weird face, like he knew something that Jisung didn’t, but he didn’t get time to question it before they were back in the car with the music up so high it was making the whole thing shake. That was fine. For once, Jisung didn’t want to know. He was way too relaxed after decimating a whole bunch of furniture and plates. Plus, he was getting cheesecake soon. So, life really couldn’t get better.