learning in public

by sunyoungs

Summary:

Jaehyun signs himself up for Matchmaking Love on a complete whim, expecting a hassle-free means to an end. On paper, his match is perfect. In reality, he finds himself a little too interested in her younger brother instead.

Notes:

well... [jazz hands] here it is.

this was self-prompted because I'm both highly boring and very fickle and tend to change my mind a million times before I write anything - I hope you enjoy this self-indulgent work as much as I enjoyed writing it!

thank you to the DJF mods for a wonderful second round and a special thank you to my two cheerleaders - you know who you are. 💜

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - MAY 20

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG, 57, Matchmaker, sits with a family of four and their dog: LEE HYUN-WOO, 56, Father. SONG NA-RAE, 55, Mother. LEE JAE-EUN, 33, Older Sister. LEE JAE-HYUN, 31, Matchmake-ee. DARONG, 15, Shih Tzu. Cameras are on stand-by, introductions have been made. Everyone but Jaehyun looks fairly comfortable and ready to go. Aware of this, Matchmaker Jung turns to the parents first.]

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “What kind of match are you trying to find for Jaehyun?”

SONG NA-RAE: “Jaehyun has a lot of options, a lot of interest, but we still haven’t found a suitable match for him. Some are the wrong age, some don’t have a suitable educational background, some don’t come from compatible families. Some are too… short.” [Lee Jae-eun cackles at this, and her mother gives her a look.] “Truly, I just want my son to be happy.”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “So looks can be secondary? Money can be secondary?”

SONG NA-RAE: “Not… necessary. [She sits up. Crosses her legs.] My Jaehyun works very hard, he’s a very successful lawyer. Good-looking, too. I don’t think I would want somebody lesser than him in any way. We’re looking for the perfect match. That’s what I want for my child.”

[Matchmaker Jung hums, writes down a few notes, and turns to Hyunwoo.]

LEE HYUN-WOO: “I don’t have anything to add. My wife knows best.”

SONG NA-RAE: “Good answer.”

[They all laugh.]

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “And you, Jaehyun? What are your preferences? Do you have an ideal type?”

[CUT TO: a confessional with Lee Jaehyun, 30, Public Interest Lawyer.]

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Someone who… fits into my life?” [Pause.] “Ideally, they would fit in with my family. Get along with my parents. We’re very close, so… Yeah.” [He shrugs.] “Above all, I appreciate people who have passions; their own beliefs and values and ambitions — who have things going for them. I live a busy lifestyle and I’d prefer someone who could respect that. That’s it. Do I sound picky? I don’t think I am.”

*

Matchmaking Love is a new reality series created by Netflix Korea, slated to premiere worldwide sometime in 2028. Matchmaking Love follows Jung Eunkyung, a renown traditional matchmaker, as she brings together compatible and incompatible couples from all over Korea. Jung came to prominence through her long list of clients and killer romantic instincts. A variety show favourite, it’s said that with a single look, she can find the perfect match for you.

Does matchmaking actually work? Or is Jung Eunkyung’s services a scam? Tune in and judge for yourself.

According to industry insiders, the series will begin filming in May.

*

Jaehyun hates the evening commute to Incheon.

Where the drive into Seoul is relaxing; dedicated to going through his priorities for the day and gradually waking up through the sheer power of caffeine, the drive home is just tedious. With the traffic on the expressways molasses-slow, there’s rarely any opportunity to sit back and let muscle memory take over, and after the typical ten-hour work day… Jaehyun’s brain is begging for a chance to shut down.

In an effort to pass time — to stay alert — he tries, most days, to get some company on the phone.

That evening, Younghoon is lucky enough to be on duty.

“No, but here’s the thing,” Younghoon says, on the other end of the line. “Youngkyunie’s mother loves me, you know? Loves me. Calls me her second son and everything — but… She still scares the living shit out of me. Absolutely terrifies me. That’s how in-laws work. You can charm them all you want, but all it takes is one bad move and…” He makes an exaggerated choking noise. “It’s over. Your partner can forgive and forget, but they won’t.”

Jaehyun can’t help it, he laughs, both hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“Hey, this is serious business! You’ll regret not listening to my advice.”

“Why?” He asks, still chuckling to himself. “Did you sign a blood contract? Am I expected to sign a blood contract?”

“I mean,” Younghoon replies, after a stretch of silence. “Isn’t that what matchmaking is? The entire family is involved before the two of you even know each other, like you’re marrying them, too. That’s completely dark-sided.”

Jaehyun hums. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not that bad, he says. You’d feel differently if you could actually hold down a relationship.”

“Wow,” he says, slowly. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“It’s the truth,” Younghoon says, ignoring Jaehyun’s sarcasm entirely. “You don’t mind being set up because there’s little effort involved. No emotional investment whatsoever.”

It is the truth. Jaehyun won’t even refute that. In the past, he’s consistently had problems with the commitment aspect of a relationship. He’s never been unfaithful — not in the biblical sense, at least — but an ex-girlfriend of his once said that he was more devoted to a cause than he ever was to her.

Others (before and after her) have expressed similar concerns.

Jaehyun has even tried compromising, but to no avail. He’s accepted it for what it is: he has priorities that most might not get. The bulk of his passion is reserved for his work; his career, his ambitions and his higher purpose in life. And while in theory, a life partner is nice — it’s what’s expected of him, for one — he doesn’t plan on rearranging his entire belief system for anyone.

“Jaehyun?”

He blinks, coming back to the conversation. “Yeah, still here. A truck was passing by. You’re right, though.”

“I am?”

“The little effort is nice,” Jaehyun says, turning into the rightmost lane. “There aren’t the same expectations, going into it. I like that.”

“Maybe, but doesn’t everyone have some level of expectations?” Younghoon asks.

“Not necessarily,” Jaehyun replies. “Only desperate people turn to matchmaking. If someone is desperate enough for a matchmaker, you know they either have standards that are much too high or no standards at all. They have no leg to stand on.”

He gasps. “That’s so mean! Even for you!”

“It’s the truth,” Jaehyun says, with a grin. He passes a sign telling him that the Third Gyeongin Expressway is 500m away. “I’m including myself in that. I’m desperate to finally have the Songdo aunties off my ass.”

“Songdo’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Shut up,” he whines, taking the right exit into the upcoming expressway. “Don’t joke about the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

“Should’ve just been gay,” Younghoon sing-songs before he cackles, the sound echoing in the car. “Could you imagine? Your mom would die.”

Jaehyun frowns. “She wouldn’t,“ he says. Something in the way he says that — with such confidence — prompts an unwelcome twist in Jaehyun’s gut. “She would not die, that’s way too dramatic.”

“It was supposed to be dramatic, idiot. She totally would, though; she has your entire life planned out. A fifty year plan.”

“Not my entire life.”

“No, maybe not the whole thing — just every part that actually matters.”

“She’s my mom,” Jaehyun says, running a frustrated hand through his hair before letting it fall back onto the wheel. He doesn’t know where Younghoon is going with this, but he doesn’t like it. “She gave birth to me, raised me for over a decade. Why shouldn’t she have expectations?”

A long silence.

It’s uncomfortable, stilted, unbearably heavy — that doesn’t usually happen with them. With a friendship that’s spanned over two decades, it’s inevitable to become the expert on reading the other person, to know their every flaw and jagged edge. Younghoon is more than familiar with Jaehyun, almost in his entirety; he knows exactly where to push and prod to elicit a reaction.

He’s always made a point to tread lightly — until now.

“Okay,” Younghoon says gently. “That was… I shouldn’t have pushed.” He hesitates, then releases a slow breath. “What are you.. um, having for dinner?”

“What am I having for dinner,” Jaehyun chokes out a weak laugh. He passes through an underpass, and the car is temporarily engulfed in darkness. “Really, Younghoon?”

“You know I don’t do well under pressure.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely it,” he says, aiming for lighthearted and teasing even if he still feels a bit tense. He clears his throat, his hands clenching and unclenching around the steering wheel. “Don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me, okay?”

“But I kinda feel like an asshole—“

“Hey. Don’t. We’re above that, me and you. We’re brothers.” It always feels nice — to say that out loud. Jaehyun means it, one hundred percent, even if Younghoon did catch him off guard. “It’s tough love, y’know? It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Younghoon says again, still sounding a bit hesitant. “Can I ask about the matches you’ve had so far?”

“Within reason,” replies Jaehyun, turning into another right lane and then off of the highway. “None of them have been interesting.”

“I really don’t believe you, Mr. I’m Judgemental As Hell And Everyone Bores Me. You thought Youngkyunie was boring when you first met.” It’s a joke, but there’s also a hint of accusation in there. Years later and Younghoon has yet to let that go; he can hold a petty grudge. “And we both know he’s not, so spill. I need to hear every detail.”

Jaehyun exhales, then gets right into it.

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - MAY 27

[A confessional with LEE JAE-EUN, 33, Jaehyun’s older sister. She’s in the home office, perched on top of a desk, with her legs crossed at the ankle. The producer’s voiceover asks: “What kind of person would you match with Jaehyun?”]

LEE JAE-EUN: “Someone who’s nothing like our mother.” [Laughs] “I kid, I kid… Well. Not really. Love Mom to death, but Jaehyun has always been her little pet project. Her perfect little boy, micromanaged to have no flaws. I think he needs — no, deserves — a little chaos in his life. Someone who will drag him, kicking and screaming, out of his comfort zone. He’ll be better for it, I think.”

*

His first match is an office worker from Seoul. Kim Dahye, 29, Taurus.

The matchmaker, Jung Eunkyung, assures Jaehyun that she’s the perfect match for him.

She swears that they’re compatible in all areas; personality, aspirations, hobbies, horoscope. She opens up the file and… Kim Dahye is very pretty. She’s quite tall, Eunkyung says, as she’s passing it around, and she has the most striking eyes, doesn’t she. Her resume, because the matchmaking process is more-or-less a job search, is rather remarkable; she’s good — no, great — on paper.

Jaehyun’s mother is immediately on board. Completely sold on Kim Dahye. There’s a faraway look in her eye as she thanks Matchmaker Jung for her hard work, like she hears wedding bells in the distance.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, sees right through the biodata and flowery language. He knows that Kim Dahye is being marketed to him, talked up to be his quote-on-quote Dream Girl when he’s never as much as alluded to have an idealized person in mind — this is a business, offering a premium service, and he’s the client.

He has no reason to refuse, though, so he reluctantly agrees to set up a meeting.

Before he knows it, there’s a contact in his phone that reads: Kim Dahye (Match #1). The two of them exchange meaningless introductions and small-talk via text, agreeing to meet on a Saturday morning, initially at her family home, before going for brunch at a nearby café.

Jaehyun, ever the punctual person, knocks at exactly 10:30am.

At the door, Dahye doesn’t introduce herself. She just stares him down, and asks, very boldly, why he came empty-handed. She doesn’t smile, doesn’t try to charm him — it’s all very business-like, and Jaehyun can respect that. His curiosity has been slightly piqued. She might be interesting, he thinks to himself, might actually leave a lasting impression.

When he makes a passing joke about failing his first test, she doesn’t indulge him with a laugh, and now he’s a little more intrigued.

He’s eventually invited in. Jaehyun expects to maybe say a quick hello to her mother, to briefly and politely introduce himself before they head out. He’s completely blindsided to find her entire family — her parents, siblings, a grandmother, and one of her uncles — waiting for him in the living room. 

Safe to say, it’s what turns the meeting for the worst.

Dahye’s family members take turns interrogating the hell out of Jaehyun; he’s cross-examined about his career (“You’d make a higher salary as a Intellectual Property lawyer,” her uncle tells him. “Consider changing your practice area.”), his family (“Your older sister is still unmarried?”), his plans for having children (“You and Dahye would have pretty, tall children,” her grandma comments, at one point, with a grin. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”).

They don’t manage to escape out of the door until it’s well past noon and fifteen minutes before their reservation. 

And then, when they’re finally alone, Jaehyun learns that Dahye is chronically self-important.

The café they settled on specializes in American-style breakfasts —  pancakes, in particular, Jaehyun thought it was a safe bet — and Dahye is well-aware of this in advance. Once they’re seated, though, she’s visibly unimpressed. She stares at the menu for far too long, questions the employee taking their order on the source of the ingredients (as she is, in her own words, strictly organic), and at the end of the meal, when Jaehyun asks for the bill and thanks the staff for their wonderful service, she tells him he shouldn’t have, because the café service wasn’t adequate.

Jaehyun wonders if he should be offended that the matchmaker’s biodata was so sure of their compatibility.

They didn’t seem to connect on anything, and their conversation didn’t go anywhere, either — it was awkward, strained, even more-so than the usual first date.

(“Do you have plans for your future wedding?” She asks Jaehyun, right after they start eating. “Anything that’s a hard ’no’?” He shakes his head, and then — “Well, this might be a bit controversial, but I don’t want any children at my wedding. Not a single child. That, I really won’t compromise on.”)

So, yes — Kim Dahye does leave a lasting impression. Unfortunately, it’s of the bad sort, which makes it all the more uncomfortable when she does ask to see him again.

Later that week, Jaehyun sits down with his mother and the matchmaker. Explains — in detail — why they aren’t compatible, why it could never work.

Thankfully, Matchmaker Jung tells him that it’s fine. She tells him that the biodata can’t always be right (“It’s a learning curve,” she says, “the first match is always a bit of a gamble.”). Jaehyun makes a point not to remind her that she was very, very confident in their compatibility.

His next match is with an elementary school teacher from Busan. Jung Areum, 26, Pisces.

Areum is… darling. No other way to put it. Jaehyun likes her a lot, and unlike Dahye, they have quite a bit in common. They quickly bond over their shared love for ballads and mint chocolate ice cream.

She’s harmless, like a baby deer sent into the wild for the first time, but as the conversation continues to flow, Jaehyun realizes that he knows her type: for Areum, marriage is a means to an end, a way to finally escape from underneath her parents’ thumb. So while he appreciates how passionate she is about her job, how much she seems to glow while talking about her students, he’s not so sure she’s prepared for this.

(You know her type because you see yourself in her, a small voice in his head says. He pays it no mind.)

When Jaehyun asks a question that implies just that (“You’re only twenty-six,” he says, lightly. “What’s the hurry?”), she seems to immediately withdraw into herself. She starts responding with one-word answers, suddenly avoids all eye-contact, hides behind her cup of tea. She chews on her lower lip and by the end of the meal… almost looks deep in thought — reflective — rather than upset.

Jaehyun still regrets putting her on the spot, feels absolutely shitty about it. Apologies, too, as he’s dropping her off at the end of the evening.

(“I shouldn’t have pried,” Jaehyun says, as she makes a move to leave the car. “I just… don’t want you to look for freedom in the wrong place, you know? Parents can make it hard to breath, but do you really think adding another family member to the mix will help?” He rubs the back of his neck. “It was none of my business, though, so I apologize.”

The smile she gives him is far too kind and far more than he deserves. “You’re a good person, Lee Jaehyun. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

He cringes. “It still wasn’t my place—“

“No, but I appreciate it all the same. You saved me from what could’ve been a life-changing mistake. So, thank you.”)

Jaehyun obviously doesn’t see her again, but he also hears from Matchmaker Jung that Areum is no longer seeking her services, so really, it’s all for the best.

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - JUNE 13

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG stands in front of the Lee family home, looking less enthusiastic than usual. It’s been two weeks since she started matching Jaehyun and the search is still on. The producer’s voiceover asks: “How is it working with the Lee family?”]

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “I don’t talk about my clients behind their backs…” [Pause] “Okay, fine, you’ve convinced me. Honestly, that entirely depends on the family member. The father and older sister are pleasant enough, I don’t see much of them. The client, Jaehyun, isn’t particularly picky, which is always appreciated. Even though he hasn’t had any success with his matches thus far, there’s still no negativity on his end — he’s putting effort into the process. The mother…” [She sighs] “I deal with eager… passionate mothers all the time, but she really takes the cake. I’m going to get another earful today. Wish me luck!”

* 

“I’m not pleased,” Jaehyun’s mother says, with her lips pursed and both legs crossed, sitting between him and the matchmaker. “Two meetings within two weeks and neither of them went anywhere. Surely there’s a reasonable explanation for this?”

“Matchmaking is a process, ma’am—“

His mother scoffs. “A process that I’m paying a substantial amount for, hmm? I see.”

Jaehyun stays quiet — he knows not to tempt fate when his mother gets like this. It’s just how she is; she expects instantaneous results and is overtly disappointed when it’s not entirely possible.

“I have another potential match for Jaehyun,” Matchmaker Jung says, after a long, tense pause. “She’s a little older, but very successful. Beautiful and from a respectable family, too.” She opens her bag, rifting through it. “Overall, there’s very high mutual compatibility. I even consulted a mudung for confirmation and the spirits of both of your families’ ancestors believe it will be a very harmonious match.”

“She’s older,” Jaehyun’s mother repeats, slowly. “How much older?”

“Only by a year, ma’am. She was born in ’96.”

She hums, satisfied with her answer. “Very well, then. And her file?”

Matchmaker Jung passes a copy of the resumé to each of them. There’s a professional headshot clipped to the corner — two mischievous, gleaming eyes stare back at him. Ji Minyoung, 32, Virgo.

“A doctor,” his mother reads out loud, in her rarely-used impressed voice. “Where were you hiding this one, huh, Jung Eunkyung? She’s in a different league compared to the others.”

Jaehyun silently agrees. Her criteria is very specific.

Must have his own beliefs and not be a pushover, it reads, must have passions outside of work, must be a dog person, must not be another doctor or in the medical field.

From her file, Minyoung seems like a woman who knows exactly what she wants and won’t settle for anything less — extremely accomplished and knows it, too. She knows her worth, which isn’t commonly seen with matchmaking prospects.  Jaehyun both admires her chutzpah and feels highly intimidated by it. 

He wonders, for the very first time, what she’ll think of his own resumé — if he’ll leave a worthy impression.

“Minyoung is a new client,” the matchmaker tells them, practically preening. “If you’re interested, Jaehyun could be her first match.”

“Well,” his mother says, sitting up. “If I have anything to do with it, he’ll also be her last.”

The way she says it, like a promise, sounds... a bit too ominous — almost threatening. Jaehyun clears his throat. “Uh, what does her availability look like?”

“Oh?” Matchmaker Jung teases. “Has she caught your eye? You’re not usually this proactive.”

Jaehyun shrugs, his ears going red. It feels rude to say not particularly, but she’s clearly a step up from the others, so instead he takes a deep breath and says: “We have quite a bit in common. It’s worth a try.”

Matchmaker Jung gives him a shit-eating grin, before flipping through her notebook with purpose. She makes an aha! noise. “I have her schedule right here… Well, not so much a schedule, really. She’s only being open to meeting on Friday nights and Saturday afternoons.”

“As soon as when?” He asks, mentally going through his own schedule for the week. He’s between cases right now — a rare occurrence — and would prefer to get it over with as soon as possible. “Would it make sense to meet with her this week?”

Jaehyun’s mother nods in agreement. “That’s right, that’s right — Jaehyunie should meet with her at first opportunity. Her family, as well.”

“Well, I cannot guarantee—“

She raises both of her well-threaded eyebrows, once again looking displeased. Jaehyun cringes; this will not go over well. “And why is that?”

“Minyoung is very busy—“

“So is my Jaehyun,” his mother says, sharply, before she can finish. “See to it that it happens.”

*

JI FAMILY HOME (SEOUL) - JUNE 10

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG, 57, Matchmaker, sits with a family of 6 — 5 immediate, 1 extended — and their dog; JI SUNG-HO, 60, Father, KIM HA-YOON, 56, Mother, JI SOO-MIN, 35, Older Sister, KIM SEO-JUN, 35, Brother-In-Law, JI MIN-YOUNG, 32, Matchmake-ee, JI CHANG-MIN, 30, Younger brother, GANA, 11, Poodle. Matchmaker Jung smiles and turns to Minyoung first.]

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “Minyoung, you recently turned thirty-two. Why haven’t you settled down yet? What’s taking so long?”

JI MIN-YOUNG: [Shrugs.] “I didn’t want to.”

[A long silence, with JUNG EUN-KYUNG practically starring her down.]

JI MIN-YOUNG: “Wow. Is that not good enough? Okay, then — let’s just say I’m very career-oriented. When you’re in the ER for sixty to eighty hours a week, there’s no time to daydream about wedding bells.”

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG looks unsatisfied with Minyoung’s answer, but hums, writing down a few notes. She looks to the rest oft the family, next.]

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “In your own words, what is Minyoung’s type?”

JI SOO-MIN: “Can I say fictional?” [Laughs]  “No real man is up to her standards.”

[Across from her, JI MIN-YOUNG laughs along, nodding.]

JI MIN-YOUNG: “It’s true. I’m notoriously hard to please.”

JI SOO-MIN:  “See? She knows it, too. One of these days, she’ll have to learn to compromise.”

JI SUNG-HO:  [He interrupts the sisters] “What I think is that deep down, Minyoungie’s true desire is someone who will treat her right.”

JI CHANGMIN: [He raises an eyebrow, looking like he disagrees with his father] “No, what noona wants is a house husband. Someone who will cook and clean and raise the children while she’s out making a living. Completely house-trained, y’know? Like the combination of a live-in maid and a pet.”

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG frantically turns to look at the camera-man, as if to say, “we need to edit this part out.”]

JI CHANGMIN: “I think it’s very 21^st Century of her, actually. Very… modern.” [He looks around with a grin] “Should I not have said that? It’ll make for good ratings, though, won’t it?”

*

Unlike the previous two matches, Jaehyun has no contact with Ji Minyoung before their meeting.

Any additional information he learns before then is from a third party — namely, their shared matchmaker, and none of it is particularly reassuring. To put it simply: Jaehyun is kind of scared shitless; a ball of nerves sits in the bottom of his stomach, expanding by the hour. This is the first meeting he’s going into completely blindly, without any opportunity to feel his match out.

He doesn’t know what to expect — not from Ji Minyoung, nor her family — and it leaves him unsettled. It leaves him loitering in front of their house for close to ten minutes, arguing pros and cons in his head.

Pro: Ji Minyoung is the most compatible match he’s had thus far. Another pro: he probably won’t be the only person feeling awkward and out of his depth. Con: If he screws this up and a second meeting isn’t all but guaranteed, his mother will have his head.

Jaehyun straightens his shoulders, far too aware of the camera crew behind him, takes a long, deep breath, and finally knocks on the door of the Ji family home.

The door is opened almost immediately — like someone was waiting by it — and a heavily pregnant woman stands on the other side.

There’s a resemblance to Ji Minyoung, but this is clearly not her. A relative, Jaehyun thinks, probably a sister.

“You must be Lee Jaehyun-ssi,” the woman says, with a pleasant smile. “You’re right on time. Come in, come in.”

Jaehyun removes his shoes, before walking in. The camera crew follows. “I— Yes. Thank you.”

“My family appreciates a punctual man,” she teases lightly, grabbing Jaehyun’s shoes out of his hands. She places them on the second row of a nearby shoe rack, between a pair of heels and light blue Air Jordan 1s. “I’m Ji Soomin, Minyoung’s older sister.”

“Ah… It’s very nice to meet you,” Jaehyun bows, briefly. “I’m Lee Jaehyun,” he adds, and then frowns, realizing that she’s made it clear that she already knows.

He clears his throat, looking around the well-decorated entrance hall. “Your home is lovely.”

Soomin laughs. “I can’t take any credit for that, but thank you.” She lowers her voice, then, as if sharing a secret. “Make sure you repeat that to Mom later — you’ll have her eating out of the palm of your hand.”

She guides him across the hall and into the living room, where five pairs of eyes turn to look up at them.

By a quick process of elimination, Jaehyun can identify Ji Minyoung out of the bunch. She looks a lot like the photograph Matchmaker Jung had shown them, with a shorter, chin-length hairstyle.

She’s much prettier in person — in motion, her features are almost brought to life.

Jaehyun bows again, lower than the first time. “It’s nice to meet you all. My name is Lee Jaehyun, but please call me Jaehyun comfortably.”

“Isn’t he so cute?” Soomin gushes, clapping him on the back. “No need to be so formal with us.”

She leads Jaehyun closer to the couches, and starts introducing him to the rest of the family. “This is Kim Hayoon, our mother.” She eye-smiles at Jaehyun. “Ji Sungho, our father.” He offers Jaehyun a cordial nod, and Jaehyun nods back. “Kim Seojun, my lovely husband—“ Someone loudly gags at this and Soomin rolls her eyes. Jaehyun tries his best not to laugh. “Here we have Changmin, our only brother and a huge pest—“

“And very proud of it,” Changmin interjects.

He looks identical to Minyoung; they share the same large, twinkling eyes, mischievous smile and even the lengths of their hair. The only glaring differences seems to be the colour — natural black for Minyoung, dyed brown for Changmin — and the dimple in his right cheek. “Being the family’s youngest is a skill.”

Jaehyun wants to laugh, but he thinks that would be horribly rude of him, so he doesn’t.

Soomin pays his comments no mind. “And finally, the woman of the hour and the person you’re really here to meet. This is Minyoung, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I did, yeah,” Jaehyun says, and his lips tilt upwards. It’s his polite smile, not yet comfortable enough for the real thing. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Minyoung offers him a polite smile of her own. “Likewise.”

“Sit down, sit down,” Soomin tells Jaehyun, from where she’s now perched on the opposite couch, burrowed under her husband’s arm. “Let’s get to know each other.”

“Actually,” Minyoung says, and then moves to stand. “We’re going to head out. Reservation is at seven, so… Rain-check on the interrogation?”

“I was not going to interrogate him!”

Minyoung gives Jaehyun a wicked grin, before she replies. “I don’t know… I was starting to think he was your match, unnie. You’re a little too invested, no?”

To Jaehyun, she adds, “you think my brother-in-law should be worried?”

Soomin splutters, her cheeks reddening. Minyoung quickly grabs Jaehyun by the wrist, pulling him out of the room before he can apologize — for what reason, he doesn’t know… perhaps on her behalf? — and the sound of Minyoung’s cackles ring through the living room and into the hallway.

“That was hilarious,” she says, as her laughter settles into a full, satisfied grin. “Did you see her face?”

Jaehyun fights the urge to look amused, biting his lower lip. Instead of answering, he busies himself with his shoes, then asks: “Do you usually mess with her like that?” 

“Oh yeah, all the time. Don’t you? You have an older sister, too, right?”

He’s momentarily confused before he remembers, the biodata, right. This isn’t the usual blind date situation. It was almost starting to feel organic for a second there.

“Not really,” Jaehyun tells her, and then shrugs. “Don’t want to see her tried for attempted murder any time soon.”

“Wow,” Minyoung says, squinting. She stares at Jaehyun for a beat, and then two, like she’s looking at him for the first time. “You’re actually quite funny…. Huh. I wasn’t expecting that at all, no offence. The whole…” She gestures largely with her hands. “Attorney thing usually comes with a type.”

He tilts his head. “I like to think I don’t fall under any types.”

“I’m starting to see that,” she replies, still smiling, before she glances down to her watch. “Anyway, I really wasn’t lying about that reservation. Are you ready to head out?”

Jaehyun nods in assent, and Minyoung steps out of the door and into the muggy June evening before he can ask where they’re going.

“We’re taking my car,” Minyoung says. She leads him to a spotless, red Kia Sportage — this year’s model, if he had to guess, and unlocks it. “This is my first born, my pride and joy.”

He raises an eyebrow, following her into the car. “Not sure how I feel about being a step-father.”

“No?” Minyoung hums. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Lee Jaehyun-ssi… Unfortunately, you were a bit lacking and I don’t see us being a compatible match. I wish you all the best going forward.”

Her face is so serious, levelling him a deadpan look, and Jaehyun can’t help it — he bursts out laughing. He forgets himself for a moment, shoulders shaking with laughter, and then quickly covers his face as an after-thought, chuckling into his hands.

“So clearly that’s a dealbreaker,” Jaehyun finally manages, as he catches his breath.

She grins, shark-like. “You think I only have one? That’s cute.”

Over the next two hours, as they indulge in red wine, hanwoo and steady conversation, Jaehyun becomes familiar with many more of Minyoung’s dealbreakers.

(She makes a game of it. Walking into the restaurant, she points out a ‘No Smoking’ sign and makes Jaehyun aware of her second dealbreaker — the smell of nicotine; it repulses her, apparently, makes her think of one of her uncles. Her younger brother is also a smoker, apparently, and she doesn’t exactly approve.

Later, when the topic of texting comes up, Minyoung mentions that she cannot, under any circumstance, stand dry texters; anyone who responds with one-word answers is an immediate no. Indecisiveness, she adds afterwards, then she follows it up with a side comment about not respecting pushovers. After they eat, as she’s inspecting Jaehyun’s hands over the table, she bemoans about men and their bad nail hygiene (“That’s another no,” she says. “Obviously.”). The last dealbreaker, at least for the night, is excessive chest hair, as she points out a sleazy-looking patron seated to the left of their table, which is both completely out-of-the-blue and very understandable.)

Jaehyun isn’t bothered by her dealbreakers, surprisingly; not like he had been with his first match. Minyoung doesn’t take herself too seriously — like Dahye had — and makes a huge joke of her high standards. She constantly turns herself into the punchline without any hint of self-deprecation. She is both self-assured to a fault and absurdly self-aware.

There aren’t any initial sparks, but Ji Minyoung quickly becomes someone he can get along with — Jaehyun finds himself surprisingly comfortable around her.

“Okay, so,” she’s saying now, resting her chin in her palm, elbow digging into the table. “If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

Jaehyun makes a thoughtful noise. “If I had to narrow it down to just one, I’d probably go with ‘When Love Passes By’ by IU.”

“Talk about depressing… You want to elaborate?”

“I don’t think it’s depressing, per se,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “It got me through a few sleepless nights during law school, so I find it pretty cathartic… As weird as that may sound.”

Minyoung rolls her eyes. “You’re lying.”

He blinks, briefly taken aback. She clearly does not beat around the bush for the sake of courtesy. “Pardon?”

“That was the most cookie-cutter answer you’ve given me so far,” she tells him, matter-of-factly. And, well.. it kind of is, but Jaehyun doesn’t think the full answer is first-date-friendly. “Try again.”

Jaehyun stands his ground, and ignores the sudden itch under his skin. “What makes you so sure?”

Minyoung leans in, closer and then closer, looking directly into his eyes. “No one describes their favourite song as pretty cathartic.” She imitates the way he had said it, one eyebrow raised. “That’s too simplistic. I call bullshit.”

“Well,” he replies, taking a long sip of his wine. “That’s all you’re getting out of me tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Okay,” she relents after a long pause, shrugging good-naturedly as if to say I tried, and then leans back.  “I’ll let you off the hook this once! I don’t do this often — I’ll have you know that can be very stubborn, so you’ll have to answer another one of my questions completely honestly.”

She swirls the wine still left in her glass, then knocks it back in one go. “No ifs, ands or buts. No talking yourself around it or out of it, either.”

Jaehyun wonders if she can read the hesitance on his face, because she fixes him with a pointed look. “Get that scared look off of your face,” Minyoung adds, and she almost sounds amused. “You’re a grown man, aren’t you? It’s just a question.”

She gets to Jaehyun’s ego, the part of him that doesn’t back down from a challenge — hook, line and sinker.  “Ask away,” he says, with a half-hearted grimace.

“Oooh, this is exciting.” Her grin turns a little ruthless. “Give me a moment to think.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

Minyoung makes him regret it. “Why are you doing this?” She asks, straight to the point. “The whole matchmaking deal. You’re successful, from a good family, polite enough… Handsome enough, too, I guess,” she lists his favorable qualities like observations, like indisputable facts, rather than compliments. “And society doesn’t think men can be spinsters — you don’t have an expiry date, so… What gives? There has to be a catch.”

He really, really appreciates her candor. It’s probably what he would ask, in her place. And so Jaehyun answers, completely honestly, for the first time in his life. “I don’t want a romantic partner — a soulmate, or whatever — who suddenly shifts your worldview and becomes the centre of your life. That’s not for me.” 

He admits this quietly, eyes flitting around the room. “I’m looking for a companion. Someone… Someone who gets it. Someone who’s on the same page, who understands the importance of my career — and preferably feels the same about theirs.” Jaehyun licks his dry lips. “There are priorities in my life I don’t ever see myself pushing aside for a spouse, and I want to be upfront about that. Dating apps don’t leave room for full disclosure. It’s unbecoming, y’know? No one wants to hear that on the first date.”

With the unspoken finally out in the open, Jaehyun swallows down the nervous twist in his gut and peers up at Minyoung through his hair. At first glance, she doesn’t look spooked, which is a win in his book. In fact, there’s the beginnings of a smirk lurking at the corners of her mouth.

“You’re full of surprises, Lee Jaehyun,” she finally says, with a tilt to her head.

“Oh,” says Jaehyun. “A good thing, I hope?”

 “It is a good thing,” she replies, grinning so wide he can see both rows of her teeth. “I like that in a person. If this was a test, you might’ve just passed it.”

*

JI MIN-YOUNG’S APARTMENT (SEOUL) - JUNE 18

[A confessional with JI MIN-YOUNG, 32, in her own apartment. Minyoung is sitting on a leather couch, with a glass of wine in hand. The producer’s voiceover asks: “How was your first meeting with Lee Jaehyun-ssi?”]

JI MIN-YOUNG: “You know what… It was nice. Surprisingly nice. I enjoyed myself, and that shouldn’t be taken lightly.” [Laughs] “I didn’t immediately hate him, and that shouldn’t be taken lightly either.”

[Voiceover: “Would you meet him again?”]

JI MIN-YOUNG: [Long pause] “Yeah? Yeah, I would, actually. Matchmaker Jung did well — I wasn’t expecting to get along with the first person she set me up with. But here we are! I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Lee Jaehyun-ssi again.”

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONDO, INCHEON) - JUNE 18

[A confessional with LEE JAE-HYUN, 31, in the home office. Jaehyun looks a bit disheveled, wearing his work suit with the tie loosened. He’s sitting at a modest desk, laptop and papers scattered in front of him. The producer’s voiceover asks: “How was your meeting with Ji Minyoung-ssi? How does she compare to your previous matches?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Sorry for the, uh, mess. I was just assigned a new priority case that goes to court in a few days so I’m working whenever I can. Ah, you asked about the meeting with Minyoung-ssi… Right. I enjoyed myself. She’s… a bit different to my previous matches. I liked that. More my speed, y’know? Someone I can understand.”

[Voiceover: “Would you like to have a second meeting?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: “I wouldn’t say no.” [He lets out a sheepish laugh, covering his face] “Like I said, she’s someone I can see myself really getting along with. She’s definitely the best match I’ve had yet — there’s no competition there. It could be nice to get to really know her. So, uh.. Yeah. I’d like that.”

[Voiceover: “You briefly met the rest of her family, how were they?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: [Laughs] “Very different to my own. But a good different — they’re clearly all very close. Her brother, ah… What was his name, sorry?”

[Voiceover: “Ji Changmin.”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Ji Changmin… Nice name. He was funny.”

*

“So you actually liked her?” Younghoon asks, quickly downing another shot of soju.

The three of them — Jaehyun, Younghoon, and Younghoon’s husband, Youngkyun — regularly make plans to meet up for drinks. These meet-ups tend to occur in the same bar Younghoon has been frequenting since university; it’s a gay bar, but Jaehyun has tagged along so much that the detail is far past being more than just that — a detail.

(Plus, the few times he’s been prepositioned by patrons in the past, Younghoon always came to his rescue and played up the jealous boyfriend act. Most of the regulars just assume Jaehyun is their third now.)

Jaehyun furrows his brows. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, just…” He sighs, then unconsciously rubs at the redness settling into his cheeks. “Maybe — and don’t get mad at me, okay? — maybe a teeny, tiny part of me was hoping that this date would end up a huge bust. And then you’d finally realize that you’re better off meeting someone the normal way. That way, everyone would be happier — we’d all live happily ever after. The end.”

Here he goes again. Jaehyun naively thought that going out with Younghoon and his husband would manage to distract his best friend from his new favourite topic of conversation. Discussing the matchmaking thing in circles has well-passed the point of exhaustion.

“I’m not unhappy,” Jaehyun tells him, then he pauses. His fingers drag through the condensation on his cold beer glass. “Quite the opposite, actually. I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere with this.”

“Ugh, Youngkyunie do you hear what he’s saying? He sounds like he’s talking about a case — like this is work and not his love life. It’s scary! Isn’t it?!”

Youngkyun laughs, unbelievably amused like it’s the first time he’s witnessing Younghoon’s dramatics. He pats him on the back comfortingly, and Jaehyun rolls his eyes. Now that is a couple who were all but made for each other.

“I’m right here,” he says, with mock offence. “Don’t complain about me like I’m not sitting right next to you, willingly dealing with your disgusting PDA.”

Younghoon sticks his tongue out, and they all burst into chuckles.

“Not everyone marries for love,” Youngkyun points out, stroking Younghoon’s back in slow, soothing circles now. “My parents didn’t, and they’re still together. Still like each other, too. It is possible.”

He huffs. “I know it’s possible. That doesn’t mean I want it for my best friend.” He sits up again, turning to Jaehyun. “I just want to see you happy and in love — like Youngkyunie and I am. I want to make a cheesy speech at your wedding and complain about your PDA. This whole…” He makes a disgusted face. “Matchmaking thing completely ruins that.”

“Awww, you want to see me happy?” Jaehyun gives him a cheesy smile, reaching out to pat him on the cheek. “Always thinking of your best friend in the whole world, huh, ‘Hoonie?

“Fuck off,” Younghoon says, and snaps at his hand like he’s going to bite him.

Jaehyun pushes himself backwards, his chair creaking with the effort of it, but then there’s abrupt contact with something behind him. The collision suddenly halts the chair’s movement and jostles him forward, spilling a few droplets of his beer onto his lap.

“Shit,” someone behind him says, lowly. “Be more careful, yeah? You almost spilled my drink.”

Jaehyun’s face goes red in mortification. Before he can turn towards the voice and apologize profusely, Younghoon lets out a loud gasp. “No way… Changmin?!”

The name is extremely familiar, on the very tip of his tongue, but there’s no real recognition until Jaehyun turns around and is suddenly face-to-face with none other than Minyoung’s younger brother—

It is… quite the surprise, given that he accompanied his favourite couple to their favourite gay bar. And yeah, Jaehyun does know that people of all sexualities have been known to frequent them — he’s here, for one, isn’t he? — but Changmin appears to be alone and that’s much less likely of a straight man.

Which is totally fine, obviously. And also none of Jaehyun’s business.

(His brain doesn’t seem to get the memo, though, and the detail is filed away for later. For what reason, Jaehyun doesn’t entirely know — at least, not consciously.)

Changmin doesn’t seem to notice him at first, preoccupied with Younghoon, who he apparently knows really, really well. His face instantly brightens, and then he’s smiling broadly enough that Jaehyun can see the dimple in his right cheek. 

“Younghoon-hyung…? Holy shit! Long time no see! It’s been, what, seven years?”

“Just about,” Younghoon replies, nodding, before he goes in for a long hug. “I don’t think we’ve hung out since right after university. Come sit, come sit — we have the entire table.”

Changmin settles in the seat closest to him, which is coincidentally next to Jaehyun. “How have you been?”

“Good,” Younghoon says. He looks pleased, squirming in place, like the cat who got the cream. Jaehyun knows exactly what’s going to come out of his mouth next. “Happy. Married. Happily married.” 

It’s extremely cute. Younghoon is always excited to share that he’s married — regardless of whether he can specify that he’s married to Youngkyun or if he has to refer to him in gender-neutral third person. He’s always happiest when he can be totally honest, though, as evident by the glittering look in his eyes.

It brings an identical smile to Jaehyun’s face.

(They tied the knot in New York last fall, and while it still isn’t recognized in Korea, Jaehyun knows that Younghoon and Youngkyun aren’t too bothered. It’s legitimate to them, to their own friends and families, to the broader LGBT community, and that’s what ultimately matters.)

“Married…?” Changmin repeats, eyes widening, and then his gaze falls on Jaehyun. He squints, looking absolutely perplexed. There’s an instantaneous downwards curl to his lips. “Hey, I know you. You’re—“

Younghoon laughs, and then laughs, like that’s the punchline of a joke. “Not him. That’s my best friend, since we were in diapers.” He reaches out and pats Jaehyun on the head. “You know Jaehyunie?”

There’s visible tension in his shoulders. Jaehyun wonders what that’s about. The guy clearly wasn’t on edge just a second ago, so the reason definitely has to do with him. Maybe, in the dim light of the bar, he’s confusing Jaehyun for someone else

But when he nods stiffly and answers: “Yeah, we met briefly when he went on a date with my noona last week,” it’s very clear that he does remember meeting Jaehyun.

That doesn’t explain the palpable unease on his face when they made eye contact, though. If anything, it only serves to confuse him more.

Jaehyun starts to speculate, in the back of his mind, if the date actually went horribly — contrary to his own assessment — and Changmin, as Minyoung’s brother, has heard all the gory details.

He clears his throat. Tries to smile politely. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“As I was saying,” Younghoon says, looking between them with a slightly raised brow. Jaehyun knows he’ll be asking about this later. He moves to stand over Youngkyun, rubs both hands along his upper arms, and then sits down in the chair next to him. “This is my hubby — Youngkyunie, this is Ji Changmin, he was my absolute favourite junior in university.”

They exchange pleasantries. Changmin’s expression shifts again, back to the wide smile and visible dimples. “I don’t know about that… I’d bet on you liking a certain Choi Chanhee more than me.”

Younghoon lets out another gasp. “Oh my God, Chanhee… Shit, I don’t think I’ve spoken to him in just as long.” He turns to his husband, then laughs. “Baby, you know that thing you always say, about gay people being naturally drawn to each other? That was us, pretty much.”

(That answers Jaehyun’s question. He thinks he does a very good job of not reacting to the confirmation.)

“Oh yeah,” Changmin replies, with a laugh of his own. It’s a nice laugh — a literal hahaha. “We were attached by the hip.”

“Speaking of,” Younghoon says, and there’s a glint in his eye that usually means trouble. “Did you and Chanhee ever…”

The way he trails off — there’s a very clear implication. And while Jaehyun doesn’t catch it, Changmin definitely does. He’s shaking his head before Younghoon finishes his question, his eyes going even wider.

“We’ve only ever been friends.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, jokingly. “You two were always way too codependant for just friends. I was even a little jealous.”

Changmin grins. “Jealous, huh, hyung? We could tell.”

Younghoon rolls his eyes. “Anyway — you have to give me the dirt on your sister and Jaehyunie. This one,” he points an accusatory finger at Jaehyun, “refuses to share a single detail.”

“I’m being respectful,” Jaehyun says, taking a nervous sip of his beer. He makes a face — it’s no longer as cold as he’d like.

“Respectful doesn’t have to be boring!”

Younghoon turns his entire body towards Changmin then, with both hands on his cheeks and his most devastating puppy-dog stare aimed at him. “So?”

He shrugs, as if to say why not. “Noona said she had fun.”

“Oooh,” he says, nudging Jaehyun in the side. Jaehyun’s ears go bright red. “Did you hear that? She had fun. What else, what else?”

“You don’t have to—“ Jaehyun starts to say, just as Changmin replies: “That’s all you’re getting out of me, sorry.”

He doesn’t look apologetic; if anything, he looks a bit irritated, despite doing his best to conceal it. Jaehyun might not know him, but he recognizes the carefully worn mask on his face.

“Noona will kill me if she finds out I went around sharing her business. The next time you see me, I’ll be on the 9PM news with the headline: ‘Woman Brutally Murders Younger Brother in Fit of Rage, Family Says He Had It Coming’.”

They all laugh. Some, more than others.

The conversation thankfully turns to back to Younghoon and Youngkyun after that.

They give Changmin the usual rundown: when and how they met (eight years ago; Younghoon was working a miserable internship and Youngkyun worked part-time at the nearby coffee shop he was always sent to on coffee runs), what their wedding was like (very intimate; close family and friends only), and how married life is treating them (Younghoon leans over, planting a loud kiss on Youngkyun’s cheek. “I’m still on cloud nine,” he tells him. “I don’t think our honey moon phase is ever ending.”).

Jaehyun stays quiet the entire time, not really in the mood to contribute. Instead, he nurses his lukewarm beer and watches Changmin out of the corner of his eye the entire time.

He’s drinks, observes, and files relatively useless information away for later — because Jaehyun, as already established, likes figuring people out, figuring out exactly how they click.

And Ji Changmin… well, Ji Changmin seems interesting. Probably more interesting than listening to his best friend retell anecdotes he’s heard a million times.

So — for the rest of the night, he settles in to observe.

And observe.

And observe.

But for the life of him, Jaehyun can’t figure Changmin out. 

While Minyoung is not without her own complexities, she wears them proudly on her sleeve. He mostly understood her after a single meeting.

Jaehyun can’t seem to get a clear read on Changmin; he’s very much a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it experience.

His face is unbelievably expressive, but if you stare too long it starts to look ingenuine. His eyes are perpetually wide, his grin even wider, but both feels rehearsed. His laughter is musical, but sounds a bit restrained. 

He freely jokes around with Younghoon one minute, but then seems to remember the presence of near-strangers and quickly reels it all in. Changmin is cautious — cagey, but doesn’t seem to want others to know it. And as much as Jaehyun tries not to, he sees a bit of himself in his armoured exterior, in his skepticism and the conflicting friendly, public-facing mask.

In the subtly cutting looks he keeps sending Jaehyun’s way.

That’s another thing about Changmin: he doesn’t seem to like him very much. This particular observation intrigues Jaehyun. He wants to poke and prod and pry until he manages to provoke an honest reaction — something raw — for once.

He refuses to think about how juvenile that is; very reminiscent of his youth, of before; before commitments and priorities and the crushing pressures of adulthood.

The feeling is too nostalgic.

At the end of the night, as Jaehyun is enroute to his own apartment, he tries to dissect the irregular thrum of his heart, drumming against his ribs with the intensity of a jackhammer, and the surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He realizes — much later — after he crawls into bed and is staring at his bedroom ceiling, patiently waiting for sleep to take him, that it’s akin to the rush he gets after a hard-won case.

*

JI FAMILY HOME (SEOUL) - JUNE 24

[A confessional with JI CHANG-MIN, 30, Minyoung’s younger brother. He’s in the kitchen, leaning against a counter and peeling an orange. The producer’s voiceover asks: “What do you think of Lee Jaehyun-ssi?”]

JI CHANG-MIN: “No… comment?” [Silence] I plead the fifth?” [More Silence] “No? Fine. You got me; I really don’t like the guy.”

[Voiceover: “Isn’t that a bit much? You met him once… For less than ten minutes.”]

JI CHANG-MIN: “So? That’s long enough to form an opinion, isn’t it? I don’t think he’s a good fit for Minyoung-noona. He’s probably hiding some big secret.” [Even more silence, he laughs] “Trust me, okay — I know his type. 50,000 won says I’m right.”

*

It’s been over a month since Jaehyun first met with Ji Minyoung.

Their schedules haven’t aligned since — not for a lack of trying, mind you, but they’re two driven adults with an abundance of work-centric priorities and somehow, they actually understand that about each other.

Most of Jaehyun’s free time is eaten up by a new case he’s quickly pulled into, due to a colleague’s unexpected leave of absence. He spends consecutive late nights in the office, alternating between failed attempts at deciphering his co-worker’s notes and doing research he doesn’t trust his juniors with.

Minyoung, on the other hand, seems to eat, sleep, breathe ER, always covering shifts on top of her own. Jaehyun starts to consider if Matchmaker Jung purposefully matched him with the one person who is able to rival his workaholic tendencies. 

They still try to keep in touch, chat here and there…. Okay, okay, they’ve talked via text three times since, but Jaehyun doesn’t think they should be considered an entirely failed match, yet.

Contrastingly, Jaehyun has been within the same vicinity as her brother on at least three separate occasions since. Every time Younghoon convinces him to take a break from work — there he is, levelling Jaehyun with unimpressed look after unimpressed look.

Like he has an unkind opinion on every word out of Jaehyun’s mouth, but doesn’t think it’s ever worth vocalizing. It’s a little intimidating; Jaehyun can admit that’s at least partially why he has yet to directly make conversation with Changmin.

Something is distinctly different this evening, though, because Changmin turns to Jaehyun on his own accord — makes conversation with him, instead of purposefully talking around him.

Jaehyun is in the middle of explaining lawyer-client confidentiality to Youngkyun for maybe the fifth time — after being asked for details on his latest case — when Changmin, who’s nursing his third bottle of peach-flavoured Chumchurum and laying starfished on the floor, turns up from his phone. 

He blinks rapidly, as if he needs to focus his vision, and tilts his head. “You’re a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Minyoung didn’t mention?”

Changmin ignores his question, leaning in closer. “What, so you, like… defend murderers an’ shit? Is that why you have to keep it hushhush?”

“I’m not a defence attorney,” Jaehyun tells him, a teensy bit amused. Changmin’s definitely had the most to drink out of them, but he’s still holding himself well. He doesn’t think he’s past tipsy yet. “I actually work in labour and employment law… Workers rights, occupational safety and all of that.”

“He’s being humble,” Youngkyun says, nudging Jaehyun with his foot. “Jaehyun-hyung does a lot of pro-bono work, too.”

Jaehyun’s ears flush pink with embarrassment. “It’s just on the side for now, but that’s what I eventually see myself doing, so…” He shrugs.

“Wow,” Changmin says, sitting up and then chugging the rest of his soju. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Could’ve sworn you were the type who’d sell their soul for money and success. Huh… I need another bottle.”

He stands up, en-route to the kitchen, and proceeds to disappear.

Five minutes pass, and then ten, and then fifteen — by the twenty minute mark, Younghoon is up from his power nap on the couch and is blinking down blearily at them.

“Where’s Changminie?” He asks, in a mumble.

“Probably on the balcony,” his husband tells him. “That’s basically become his spot, hasn’t it?” 

Younghoon hums, content with the answer, but then proceeds to make grabby hands at him. “You, c’mere… I’m cold. Jaehyunie, you go find him.”

Jaehyun may or may not have been waiting for Younghoon to volunteer him.

The balcony in Younghoon and Youngkyun’s apartment has a stunning view during the nighttime — filled with twinkling skylines that could almost pass as a star-filled sky if you squint enough.

It’s here that he finds Changmin, half-way through a cigarette, and sitting on one of the lounge chairs with his knees pulled into his chest.

He watches from the sliding door for a moment, as Changmin takes a long, steady drag, and then exhales an impressive cloud of smoke into the night. He almost doesn’t want to interrupt the peace, but it’s a little cold for late June, and Changmin is surely feeling it in his light tanktop.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, as he slides the door open. He crosses into the balcony, into Changmin’s space, and closes it behind him. “You look comfortable.”

“I’m freezing,” he admits, but clearly has no plans to head back in.

“There’s an obvious solution to that.”

Changmin looks at him, then, and his gaze is a little too intense for someone who must be feeling the buzz of alcohol by now. “Are you here to nag me?”

Jaehyun doesn’t… He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself here, but that isn’t an entirely close-ended question. This Changmin isn’t the same from the other night; it might be the tipsiness, but he’s not nearly as guarded. He doesn’t want to take advantage of that, but… “Depends. Do you need nagging?”

“Hmm… No, my sisters do enough of that.” He takes another drag, struggling a little with this one, then continues. “If you’re staying out here, can you sit down? Things are startin’ to get a little blurry.”

Jaehyun sits, chewing on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to overstep, but—“

“Start by not saying that.”

“What?”

“Making assumptions about what I’m comfortable with,” he says, rubbing the lengths of his arms, “is already overstepping.”

Jaehyun frowns, apology on the tip of his tongue, but he never gets to it, because Changmin laughs, loud and hiccuping. “You wanna apologize so bad right now.”

Embarrassment hits him again. “You have no proof of that.”

“Whatever,” he says, still laughing. “I’ll make it even. You wanna know what’s more embarrassing than apologizing?” He wraps his arms tighter around his knees, resting his head on top. “I failed an audition today.”

If he’s feeling upset — that would explain the fourth bottle in front of him — he doesn’t show it. There’s a carefree smile on Changmin’s face that looks a little misplaced next to the defeated slouch of his shoulders.

“That’s…” Jaehyun works his next words in his mouth. “That really, really sucks. What kind of audition was it? I don’t think Minyoung’s mentioned what you do.”

Another long drag. “I dance. Contemporary mostly— well, I try to. As of late, I haven’t been very good.” 

“We all go through slumps,” he starts to say, and Changmin laughs again, much louder.

This time, there’s a distinct bitter edge to it — it’s clearly been forced out. It’s a bit overwhelming how easy to read he is, all of a sudden. Jaehyun really needs to tread lightly.

“It’s not a slump. Slumps are easy. Slumps can be overcome. I failed my audition because the doctor’s recommendation to the company was that I’m apparently not ready to dance full-time on my ankle yet, which is just plain stupid, because—”

Changmin stops himself mid-ramble. The click of his jaw is almost audible in the silence of the night.

“Never mind. You don’t care about that,” he eventually says, shivering a little.

“Try me,” Jaehyun replies, a little too earnestly.

He scoffs, but still turns his body fully towards the chair Jaehyun’s in, leaning back. “I think I’ve hit the point of being drunk,” he says, and then: “Younghoon called this last minute pity party for me, did you know that? And now I’m bearing my heart to my sister’s maybe-arranged-future-husband. That’s kind of pathetic. You should think I’m at least a little pathetic.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jaehyun tells him, in an effort to lighten the mood. “Plus, I’m sure if this was a real pity party, I wouldn’t be invited — as your sister’s maybe-arranged-future-husband, like you so eloquently put it.” Changmin sticks his tongue out at him, and he grins. “It’s at least partially Younghoon’s way of making sure I don’t kill myself under all my paperwork.”

“So we’re both pathetic. Got it.”

“Everyone’s a little pathetic sometimes,” Jaehyun says, shrugging. Unfortunately, he knows this from personal experience. “What really matters is how you’re going to move past it. Sure, this audition was a bust… but how are you going to step it up for the next one?”

Changmin purses his lips, as if in deep thought. “Gonna smoke at least 2 more cigs.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding encouragingly. “You deserve that. And then what?”

“Gonna sleep for at least twelve straight hours.”

Jaehyun reaches his leg out into the space between them and kicks Changmin’s chair. He gets a nasty scowl for his efforts. “C’mon, man, work with me here. All dance companies do themed shows in the winter, right? When are auditions for that?”

There’s another pause, as Changmin stubs out his cigarette, but then he sighs loudly. “September.”

“September,” he repeats. “There you go. Now you have a goal.”

Changmin stares at him, eyes hauntingly wide. “Huh?”

“Now you have a date to work towards. By September, aim to be better than you are right now. Enough to get cast in the big winter show—“ He shakes his head. “No, fuck that. Enough to get a lead role.”

“Thats’s…” His mouth is gaping, a bit. “You have way too much faith in a stranger.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t say anything about having faith in you. Not with that mindset. I’m better off betting on you failing, aren’t I?”

He falls for the bait — “Then you’ll look like a huge fool when you owe me money.”

“Let’s shake on it.”

Changmin scrunches up his face, then reaches out a hand to meet Jaehyun’s between their chairs. “Fine. When I get a lead role in Winterreise, you owe me a five hundred thousand won.”

 Jaehyun laughs. “Oh, it’s a when now?”

“I’ll collect my winnings in cash.” Changmin says, with a crooked grin. “No direct deposit. You can do that, can’t you, Mr. Big-shot Lawyer?”

Jaehyun has never made a habit out of counselling or comforting drunk people — not even his own friends. He usually avoids them like the plague, if he’s being honest.

He doesn’t like the feeling of not being in control of himself, and seeing others in that state tends to make him a bit uncomfortable; like he’s witnessing an openness he shouldn’t be privy to.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t feel that way with Changmin. They don’t know each other, but still, Jaehyun comes out of this conversation feeling much lighter than he went into it.

He thinks he might’ve actually helped Changmin. At least, a little bit; enough to get him past his mental block and looking forward into the future.

The whole interaction was more than a little disorienting, though.

While Jaehyun has been on the edge of Changmin’s orbit for weeks now, he was just witness to a completely new side of him; an unguarded side, one without the layers and layers and layers of defences.

That’s progress he didn’t expect; not this soon and not before Jaehyun actually put effort into wearing him down. He really hopes it’s a good sign, though, because there’s a niggling voice in the back of his head that wants to get closer to him, to see more of tonight’s vulnerability.

Jaehyun doesn’t understand the urgency, not entirely — but where’s the harm in trying? There’s a slight chance that Changmin might actually become his in-law one day. Striking up a friendship will only help. 

*

Later, when it’s a long past one o’clock in the morning and Jaehyun is on the taxi ride home, he decides to text Minyoung completely on a whim.

Hey, he writes after a long moment of contemplation. Your brother is more than a little drunk. And then, not sure when he’ll head home from Younghoon’s place, but remind him to drink a lot of water before bed. He might REALLY regret it otherwise.

He banishes all thoughts of overstepping from his mind, with Changmin’s earlier words ringing through his mind, and presses send.

*

Minyoung calls him the next morning, as he’s drinking coffee and trying to wake up.

They don’t call — they haven’t called until this point, at least, so Jaehyun is a more than a little taken aback. Regardless, he picks up immediately after the second ring.

“Hello?”

“So you and my brother have mutual friends,” Minyoung says, in lieu of a greeting. “That’s… That’s really fucking weird. Did you know that beforehand?”

“No,” Jaehyun tells her, and then feels the need to repeats himself. “No. I was out at a bar with Younghoon — the mutual friend — and his husband a while back and we bumped into him. Apparently, he and Younghoon hadn’t seen each other in years. They’ve been catching up. That’s it.”

Technically, Minyoung is not entitled to such an honest answer, but Jaehyun wants to be honest with her. If he’s going through with this matchmaking thing, he thinks she might be his best shot.

“Oh.. Well.” She’s quite for a moment. “I did get him to drink water last night, by the way. He’s still hungover as fuck this morning, but he would’ve definitely been worst off otherwise, so… Thanks.”

Jaehyun shrugs, his cheeks colouring, but then remembers that she can’t see him. “It’s what any decent person would do.”

“I don’t know about that… Lots of decent people would just let a miserable drunk person be miserable instead of burdening themselves with their problems. You didn’t.”

The blush spreads to his neck and ears. He… didn’t expect Changmin to remember all the details, even if he wasn’t too far gone. “It was hardly a burden, honestly. Does he think that? Because it wasn’t.”

Minyoung laughs. “I might’ve made that part up as an impromptu test. Congrats, Lee Jaehyun, you raise no red flags to the older sister in me. You need to start having flaws before I get suspicious.”

“I used to play League of Legends, back when I had more free time,” he says wryly. “That might be the red flag to end all red flags.”

“You and a hundred million people around the world. Hardly a red flag when there’s worse out there; like, I don’t know… Overwatch players.”

Jaehyun huffs out a laugh. “You sound a little defensive there.”

“Because I don’t like Overwatch players?”

“You sure you don’t want to get something off your chest?”

“Never.”

“Well, if it means anything… Your secret’s safe with me, noona.”

Minyoung hangs up on him without another word.

*

Jaehyun doesn’t hear from Minyoung again until she sends Jaehyun an unexpected string of messages on a Tuesday. At nine o’clock in the morning. After another week of silence, that definitely can’t be good.

Jaehyun still barely knows Minyoung and yet the thought of her being this urgent about anything — enough to octuple text while on the clock — sends a shiver down his spine.

Especially after the little ‘test’ she pulled on him last time. He’s bound to fuck up eventually.

He gives the notifications on his lockscreen a good, hard look, before he decides to flip his phone face-down on the desk and ignore it until lunch.

He immediately gets back to the paperwork in front of him.

Distractions are inevitable, though, and Jaehyun can’t help wondering, idly, if the texts have anything to do with the looming second date. Too busy with work, he’s been ignoring the texts and calls from both Matchmaker Jung and the head PD of Matchmaking Love.

(After three weeks, the production team had started to get exceedingly pushy and meddlesome — offering to speak to Minyoung, and on more than one occasion, to set up the second meeting themselves.

Honestly, Jaehyun was convinced he was doing a decent job at holding them off. A week ago, they seemed to have completely given up on asking him about Minyoung.)

He wonders if they framed the narrative to their liking; perhaps, they blamed him for the delayed second date, maybe they accused him to ghosting them all for an explosive TV segment.

As Jaehyun lets these thoughts fester, curiosity eventually gets the best of him and he finds himself reaching out for his phone. Ah, fuck it, he thinks, before grabbing it off of the desk.

He stares at the screen. The eight consecutive notifications stare right back at him.

Taking a deep breath, he taps the top-most notification and lets face-recognition do its thing, automatically opening up the Kakaotalk app. His only unopened messages are the ones from Minyoung. Hey!, the first one reads, followed by a menacing Lee Jaehyun!!!, and honestly, that’s enough to raise his hackles a bit —

The phone goes right back down again, face-down and completely out of his reach. This time, it successfully stays that way until his lunch break.

Out of sight, out of mind.

*

Noon finds him quickly, though, ravenous and sitting around a table at one of the nearby restaurants with two of his juniors.

Haknyeon is the newly hired paralegal on their team and Eric is one of the firm’s summer interns — both of whom Jaehyun has quickly taken under his wing.

On most days, he prefers their company to any of the stuffy suits they work with. They can be a handful at times, but they listen to Jaehyun, respect him, and in return, he spoils them like a good senior should.

“Meal’s on me,” Jaehyun prefaces as their order is being taken, like that hasn’t been the case for every single lunch they’ve shared so far. Still, there are twin smiles on his juniors’ faces — and he likes that, being useful to those around him, if only with just his wallet.

“Hyung’s going to stop being so generous one of these days,” Eric jokes. “He’s luring us into a fake sense of security before he takes it all away.”

“Don’t worry, I have us covered,” Haknyeon says, leaning back, and his grin widens a fraction. “I have hyung’s credit card number memorized.”

They high-five each other, and Jaehyun tsks, shaking his head, but his mouth curls into the beginnings of a laugh. “Admitting to a criminal offence in advance? Amateur move.”

The employee returns with their food a few minutes later, as they’re still exchanging light banter. He sets a warm, aromatic bowl of bibimbap in front of Jaehyun, a seasonally appropriate bowl of bibim naengmyeon in front of Eric and rice and galbijjim in front of Haknyeon.

They dig in.

As they’re eating, Haknyeon and Eric start to discuss a new show on Netflix that they’re both binging. Jaehyun isn’t familiar with the horror thriller, so he zones out for a while, doing his best to center his focus on the dish in front of him, on the subtle heat and rich flavour.

With some effort, it keeps him from thinking about the weight of his phone in his pocket.

However, the complete silence from his end is uncharacteristic — especially in this company, and it doesn’t escape their notice. Haknyeon nudges his foot under the table, and Jaehyun startles, sitting up straight, before he directs him with a look of confusion.

“What’s up?”

“You’re quiet today,” Haknyeon says, a bit too seriously for someone with a hint of sauce at the corner of his mouth. “Anything on hyung’s mind?”

He shrugs, then takes another bite of rice, chewing slowly as he considers his next words. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Things,” Jaehyun says, shortly, and Haknyeon raises a brow. “Mind your business.”

There’s a clattering noise next to him, from Eric’s corner of the table, and then a subsequent gasp. “You have a girlfriend!” He announces confidently — and a bit too loudly — to a café occupied with at least seven other colleagues and even more strangers. Half of whom curiously turn to look in their direction. 

Jaehyun covers his face. It’s out of embarrassment, more than anything else, but Eric clearly takes it as an affirmative, because his expression turns gleeful. 

“You do have a girlfriend. That’s it, right, hyung? Right? What’s her name?!”

Jaehyun tries not to cringe the second time he hears it: girlfriend.

The word is too juvenile to describe… whatever it was he and Minyoung might eventually have — what they’re working towards is closer to a long-term partnership, rather than a fleeting rendezvous. It feels disrespectful to even consider calling her that.

His girlfriend.

He shivers.

“No,” Jaehyun says, forcefully. He lightly elbows Eric in the side. “Stop making those kind of assumptions, you brat.”

“But you had a really weird look on your face, like you were zoning out,” he argues, rather petulantly, and his eyebrows furrow.

“Maybe he’s constipated,” Haknyeon suggests, as he alternates between his rice and meat. He points at Jaehyun with his chopsticks. “Are you getting enough fiber, hyung?”

“My fiber intake is fine, thanks,” Jaehyun replies, dryly, and he reaches for his glass of water, taking a long sip.

He would bite the bullet and be honest with them, but firstly, he doesn’t make a habit of publicizing his private life, secondly, his title of coolest sunbae would definitely be on the line, and he can’t have that—

“Is that your phone vibrating?” Jaehyun’s phone is, in fact, vibrating in his pocket, and Eric can definitely feel it with how close they’re sitting.

There’s no way he can get away with pretending otherwise. He swallows obviously, slipping it out of his pocket, and forces another smile on his face. Waiting for him is another text from Minyoung — before he can pass it off as a spam email, Eric is leaning all the way into his space.

“Ji Minyoung,” he reads, lips parted in surprise. Jaehyun closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. There goes that. “You said you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not— That’s not what she is.”

“Prove it.”

He gently pushes Eric away from his shoulder, and frowns. He won’t be baited into anything; he’s long since grown into himself, hasn’t felt the ever-present buzz of competitiveness and the even riskier impulse to always be right in years.

“Don’t be so nosy,” he says, mildly, then quickly adds, “Finish your meals, I’m gonna go wash up.”

And with that, Jaehyun pushes back his chair, phone shoved back into his pocket, and walks away from their table, heading into the leftmost hallway and towards the bathrooms.

There’s a cluster of patrons nearby, but they’re likely on their way out, because there isn’t a line. Jaehyun lets the door close behind him, silencing the bustle of the restaurant, and leans against it, exhaling.

He crosses the room to the sink, washes his hands, then splashes water on his face repeatedly — while the water should, in theory, cool him off, heat is still lingering in his cheeks.

Pulling his phone out once again, he stares at the notification on his lockscreen.

“What’s the worse that could happen?” He murmurs to himself.

If he’s already offended Minyoung somehow, he’ll apologize and move on — that’s all there is to it. Jaehyun doesn’t understand why the thought is so unpleasant; their brief acquaintanceship ending because of the intrusion of third parties. It shouldn’t be.

Meeting Minyoung felt absurdly significant, though, momentous. Not at all artificial like the rest of the matchmaking process, as if he were catching up with an old friend instead. Jaehyun has never believed in fate, but she may actually be his one chance at normalcy. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to let go of that.

He unlocks his phone.

This is a little last minute buuuut, Minyoung wrote three hours ago, are you free this evening???

Jaehyun is hit with a quick sequence of relief, then embarrassment, then shame, and then a tiny flicker of excitement. He feels silly and dramatic, all things considered. Anxiety has been known to get the best of him, get him all the way deep in his head, but he could’ve responded to Minyoung’s texts hours ago.

I may or may not have something planned, is what she sent after that, followed by: but I won’t tell you what it is unless you’re in.  🔪🔪🔪

There are three knife emojis at the end of the second text — he scrolls up to confirm, and yeah, that’s definitely a new development, but he thinks it suits her; from his limited knowledge, it seems very Minyoung. He scrolls back down. Her next message didn’t come until thirty minutes later, it reads: Answer my texts!!!! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Lee Jaehyun! Either you’re in or you’re out.

I’m in, Jaehyun’s fingers immediately itch to type, but he reels it in to be the responsible, conscientious, completely unimpulsive adult he needs to be.

He sets his phone down on the sink, and splashes his face again.

Afterwards, he looks into the mirror and blinks a few times, considering his workload; the latest Occupational Safety case is a huge priority, but it’s still early days. So while it obviously isn’t ideal, he thinks could manage to leave the office a little earlier that evening — hell, he’s done so much overtime lately he doubts anyone will even notice.

It might even be good for his productivity; a little fun for the sake of curbing burnout.

Clearly, it doesn’t take much to convince himself to say yes — once his heart is set on something, it’s set — but Jaehyun tries not to think much of that. He tries not think at all, really, because overthinking is what got him here.

The reply he sends to Minyoung is short, to the point and much, much less enthusiastic than his thoughts: Sure, I’m in. What do you have in mind?

Her reply is almost instantaneous, like she has her phone in hand, that new marvel film that just came out…. I don’t care if you’ve already seen it, btw. you said you’re in.

And that’s that. They make plans to meet at a movie theatre that’s not too far from Jaehyun’s office in time for the 6pm screening.

A few minutes after the details are ironed out, Minyoung sends a final, but very important detail: oh, the PD and a camera crew from the show will be there too. sorry, forgot to mention that haha .

As far as second meetings go, an action-packed film seems like a safe enough bet. They won’t talk during the screening, but afterwards they’ll have something to discuss; Jaehyun will find a way to ask her about Iron Man, which always says a lot about a person’s taste.

He leaves the bathroom with a hint of a pleasure tugging relentlessly at the corners of his lips.

Later, when Jaehyun is the first member of his team to pack up his things — for the first time, like, ever probably — all ready to head out for the evening, he gets a few shocked looks.

Eric turns away from his desk, his expression unbelievably smug. “No girlfriend, huh, hyung?”

He rolls his eyes, throwing his backpack over one shoulder. “I’m not going on a date, if that’s what you’re asking. Have a good night, Eric.”

That’s not a lie, either — Jaehyun doesn’t see his meetings with Minyoung as dates — not yet, anyway, they don’t know each other well enough.

They’re simply… assessing their platonic chemistry… over a shared interest in Marvel movies.

Or something.

*

Jaehyun makes it to the theatre with thirty minute to spare. There’s a bit of a crowd in the lobby; not enough to overwhelm, but more than the usual weekday evening moviegoers. He has a bit of a difficult time spotting Minyoung — who is maybe a hundred and sixty centimetres on a good day — over anyone’s head. In the interest of time, he decides to shoot her a quick text message to let her know he’s near the entrance.

“Lee Jaehyun!” 

The exclamation comes from his right, near the hallway that leads to the auditoriums, and before Jaehyun even turns towards the voice he knows to expect Minyoung.

She’s not alone, though — this, he’s definitely not expecting. Changmin, her brother, is right on her heels, with an unreadable look on his voice. It’s not pleasant, but not exactly unpleasant either. 

(For some reason, Jaehyun feels another flicker of excitement, right in his gut. It doesn’t at all make sense that Minyoung’s brother is tagging along on what is effectively, for tv-purposes, a date, but he doesn’t mind. Instead, he wonders what Changmin thinks of Iron Man, if he’ll be able to provoke him into showing a little more honesty tonight — maybe by playing a little devil’s advocate after the film. It’s tempting.)

The aforementioned PD and camera crew are also in the theatre; they’re set up a little distance away, but Jaehyun tries his best to ignore their presence. He needs to remind himself that he’s here for the movie and for the company — nothing more, nothing less — the footage they get for the program will be most natural that way.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, with a small polite smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Minyoung grins back. Unlike Jaehyun, she doesn’t look like she came directly from work. Her outfit is casual, but well-put-together. She looks pretty. He tells her as much. Her smile widens a fraction.

“Lucky you, huh? Spending time with two good-looking Ji’s for the price of one.” Jaehyun laughs, he can’t deny her logic there;  they’re both objectively beautiful. “This one,” she adds, nudging her brother, who finally acknowledges Jaehyun’s presence. Changmin gives him a curt nod in greeting, “has been nagging me to see the newest Marvel film with him for ages.”

Jaehyun stills for a moment, his face turning hesitant. He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh,” he breathes out. “I hope… I’m not intruding?”

Changmin finally speaks, then, eyes glued to his phone. “Do you?”

Again, it’s not exactly said impolitely, there’s no malice in the tone of his voice — it’s frustratingly even, actually — reminiscent of their first proper interaction. Today, he’s dealing with the that Ji Changmin clearly doesn’t like Jaehyun, the one who he doesn’t even think he’s worth the out-right rudeness.

Jaehyun really, really, really wants to change that. Preferably over the course of the evening.

“You’re an ass,” Minyoung tells her brother, before Jaehyun can reply, but she almost sounds…. proud. They’re an interesting pair of siblings. “Jaehyun, you should really know better than to be polite around us. We don’t respond well to it. We’ll eat you alive.”

“Noted,” Jaehyun says, wryly. He tilts his head towards the ticket kiosks. “I’ll go buy my ticket.”

He turns away from the siblings and takes a step forward, but one of them reaches out to pull on his sleeve, effectively stopping him in place. As soon as Jaehyun looks back, Changmin drops his hand immediately, like he just touched scorching coal.

“We already got you a ticket,” he says.

“Changminie is treating us,” Minyoung adds helpfully, reaching out to pinch her brother’s cheek. “He takes his filial responsibilities very seriously.”

Changmin doesn’t shy away from his sister’s exaggerated cooing, like Jaehyun expects; he doesn’t look embarrassed at all. In fact, there’s a striking smile on his face now, putting his dimple in full view.

Jaehyun swallows. “Uh. Thank you, I appreciate that. Can I…” He glances at Changmin, and the intensity of his stare temporarily derails his train of thought. He swallows again, before wetting his lips, and then straightens his back. “I’d like to treat you both to dinner afterwards. Whatever you’d like.” Jaehyun looks between them, smiling a bit more confidently. “Fair’s fair, right?”

“Well,” Minyoung laughs, as she checks the time on her phone. “I definitely won’t argue with a free meal, so—” She links her right arm through Changmin’s, then pulls Jaehyun closer to her left side to do the same with his. “I’ll get the snacks. Off to the concession stands we go, boys.”

Jaehyun wonders what kind of image the three of them make to the people-watchers around the theatre — to the production team of Matchmaking Love — with how Minyoung is sandwiched between them, with how unsettlingly identical her and Changmin’s faces are, with the painfully flustered expression Jaehyun knows is still on his face even as they wait in line for their turn.

When they’re closer to the digital menu boards, Minyoung says, “Not sure what you’re in the mood for, but those churros are calling my name and I’m not sharing.”

“Half caramel—“ Changmin starts to say, just as Jaehyun sheepishly murmurs, “I don’t have my glasses, but I usually just get popcorn.”

“We can share a large? Half caramel, half regular.”

That surprises Jaehyun, actually. He tries not to let it show. “Yeah. That sounds good to me, thanks.”

Changmin wrinkles his nose. “Noona’s the one buying.”

“Damn right I am. And to drink?”

Minyoung and Jaehyun both decide on iced Americanos — another thing they have in common, Jaehyun realizes — while Changmin settles on an iced tea.

They’re called on by the cashier soon after that, and when the three of them have their food and drinks in hand, they speed-walk into the screening. Thankfully, the camera crew doesn’t follow them in; Jaehyun would hate to spend his first-watch experience unbearably conscious of them being filmed.

The theatre room is already half-full as they step in, considering there’s about five minutes before the film is set to begin, and it’s truly a test of their observation skills to find their seats in the dark. When they finally do, Changmin takes the inner-most seat without hesitation and Jaehyun realizes that he’ll have to sit next to him, and between both siblings, if they’re going to share the popcorn.

Which… Shouldn’t be as much of a problem as it clearly is. Jaehyun spent a good half hour with Changmin — another side of him, maybe — just the other night.

He can’t seem to rationalize the sirens suddenly going off in his head, nor the heaviness in his stomach, so he does what he does best and shakes it all off, shoving them into a box for later analysis.

Jaehyun takes a long, deep breath and settles into the seat next to Changmin. The smile he gives him is only mildly strained this time, so he takes that as a win.

(Maybe this can be an opportunity to observe Changmin during the movie, too. 

For some reason, Jaehyun doesn’t think his impenetrable mask will stay on in the dark; at least, not the entire time. It’s bound to slip once or twice. If the movie is good — or bad — enough, it might elicit a candid reaction from him. Might bring back hints of the Changmin from the other night.)

“These things always take too long,” Minyoung whispers, once the screen is no longer dark and is playing the first trailer of many: an American romantic comedy, from the looks of it. Jaehyun takes that as his cue to silently pull his eyeglasses case out of his jacket pocket, settling the dark wire frames on his nose bridge.

He thinks he manages to do it undetected, but Changmin huffs out a surprised laugh.

“You wear glasses?”

He sounds genuinely curious, for once. “Not always,” Jaehyun tells him, quietly. His vision isn’t too bad — he manages to get by without help most of the time — but he keeps his prescription glasses on hand for moments like these. “I’m a little near-sighted.”

“Makes you look like a real nerd,” Minyoung comments teasingly. She nudging Jaehyun’s shoulder with her own, before turning back to the trailer. There’s a different one playing now, another Minions instalment.

Changmin hums, thoughtfully. “I like them, actually.”

Jaehyun doesn’t know what to make of that — it’s a casual compliment, but still very unexpected. He can feel the tips of his ears going red. He considers saying a quick thank you, but it feels out of place.

Luckily, that’s exactly when the room plunges into total darkness, signalling the imminent start of the film, and a hush falls over the entire audience. He braves a look at Changmin, but he’s now looking forward, eyes trained on the screen. Jaehyun decides to leave it as it is. He gets comfortable in his seat.

The next two and a half hours are filled with an engrossing plot, subversive humour that’s borderline cheesy at times, and dazzling visual technology; the complete Marvel package.

He ends up enjoying the movie and the company, all things considered.

Jaehyun has always been a huge fan of the superhero genre — something about working towards a greater purpose, personal hangups be damned, really appeals to him. He finds it admirable: to not only have such dedication to a goal, but to also share it with a group of like-minded individuals, to have enough trust in the group to work towards it together. There’s a lot of sacrifice involved, a lot of personal conflict—

And, well. He has a lot to say on the topic.

“You totally have a saviour complex,” Minyoung says, slowly chewing on a fry. After the movie, they found a table at a nearby hole-in-the-wall and ordered a few trays of chicken wings and fries, with beer to drink — water for Jaehyun, since he’s driving home — and Jaehyun may or may not have been discussing superheroes the entire time. No longer caring as much about being filmed. “Doesn’t he?”

He frowns, now, confused by Minyoung’s assessment. “A saviour complex? Isn’t that a bit dramatic?”

“Nope,” says Changmin. Jaehyun thinks there may be a hint of amusement in his expression. “You’ve been talking about Marvel heroes for the past…” He glances at his watch. “Twenty minutes — it’s more than deserved. Iron Man sucks, let’s move on.”

“He doesn’t—”

“Harry Potter could totally kick his ass,” Minyoung says, gleefully. “One Avada Kedavra and he’s done for.”

“He could not,” Jaehyun argues, throat dry. He takes a long drink of water. “Harry Potter’s weak by comparison. He doesn’t have any of the high-tech equipment. Spells can be dodged.”

Changmin snorts. “Harry Potter is still alive, though, isn’t he? Can’t say the same for Tony Stark-ajusshi.”

“Low blow!” Minyoung cackles, then, curling forward with laughter. “Shit, Changmin, that was a total K.O.,” she wheezes out.

Jaehyun’s startled into a laugh, instinctively covering his face. “Fuck you both.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

“Oh wow,” Changmin says, a little condescendingly. He’s still grinning, though, so there’s that. “The esteemed Lee Jaehyun can swear like us commoners. You must be very passionate about Iron Man.”

It’s the longest sentence he’s directed at Jaehyun this evening. “He’s a good character,” Jaehyun says, with a shrug, picking up a saucy chicken wing. He’s still looking at Changmin even as he bites into it.

“But not the best,” Changmin says. “Or the strongest.”

Swallowing,  Jaehyun glares at him, albeit playfully. The look he gets back is so expressive he’s sure he can hear Changmin telling him to go fuck himself. “According to who?”

He merely raises one eyebrow slightly. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ll have you know I really, really, really am.”

Jaehyun’s not — not entirely, at least — but the back and forth is a little too fun to pass on.

“He’s dead.”

“He died honourably!”

(While they continue going at it, Minyoung watches, and watches and watches. Humming thoughtfully as she sips her beer and mindlessly scrolls through her phone. Gears in her head turning.)

“Jaehyun,” she suddenly says, interrupting their nonsense. “When’s your birthday?”

He blinks. “Uh… September 13^th. Why’d you ask?”

Minyoung doesn’t answer him. She turns right back to her phone, humming to herself.

“Oh God,” Changmin says, briefly pausing to take a large, resigned gulp of his drink. “Minyoung-noona is doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Psychoanalyzing people, but like… astrologically. She does it the Western way, too. It’s confusing and makes no sense,” he explains.

The light in Changmin’s eyes briefly dims, but then it returns in full force. “I think you kind of deserve it, though. There has to be something wrong with you.” He nudges his sister. “You’re looking at his horoscope, aren’t you, noona? What’s the verdict?”

“Shh,” Minyoung says, elbowing him back. “This is a spiritual process. Don’t rush me.”

Jaehyun looks between them, growing gradually more confused by the second. Minyoung’s expression is unbelievably focused, more-so than it should be after her third beer, and Changmin is grinning to himself, dimples present and accounted for, as he peers over her shoulder.

After a beat of silence, he points at the screen. “What’s that mean?”

She looks up at Jaehyun, then, and says, very gravely. “My condolences.” Changmin starts snickering, dropping his forehead on the table as his laughter rings through the small restaurant.

He sounds, to Jaehyun, as if he might be a tiny bit tipsy; not as much as the previous night, but definitely getting there. This is less stress-drinking and more drinking-for-the-hell-of-it, though.

Changmin is also noticeably different around his sister; somewhat softer around the edges. He’s not suddenly knowable, but he lets go enough to let that older sister-younger brother dynamic, one that Jaehyun is very familiar with, shine through.

It’s almost as if he doesn’t need as much armour with his sister by his side.

The thought brings a tiny smile to Jaehyun’s face. He can’t help it; it’s nice to see. As the night goes on, the atmosphere between the three of them is turning for the better — he’d dare to call it comfortable, even — despite the whole making-him-into-a-punchline thing; Jaehyun knows how to laugh at himself, he’ll live.

“So,” he says to Minyoung, resting his elbows against the table. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Your chart is far too compatible with Changmin’s, for one.” Changmin promptly raises his head at this, and his eyes go all owlish, startled wider than usual. Minyoung aims a smug look at him. “Uh-huh, that’s right. I don’t know why you were laughing. You have the birth chart of a serial killer.”

“Good thing I don’t believe in horoscope,” Changmin tells her, and Jaehyun huffs out a laugh.

“You definitely believed in it a second ago, but sure.”

Minyoung waves her phone. “It’s all in the stars. There are way too many virgo and scorpio placements between the two of you — I, on the other hand, am here to balance that all out. Compatibility notwithstanding, you’d probably murder each other without a single hesitation.”

Changmin levels him with a look that doesn’t deny that. Jaehyun tilts his head, intrigued. “I wouldn’t attack first,” he says, thoughtfully. “So it would be purely self-defence on my end.”

“I’d kill you and enjoy it,” Changmin says, with a sharp grin, almost like a promise, and Jaehyun spends far too long trying to gauge how sincere he is.

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - JULY 7

[An unexpected meeting with LEE JAE-HYUN, 31, Matchmaker JUNG EUN-KYUNG, and the entire ‘Matchmaking Love’ production team. The living room has been cleared out, much to the objection of Jaehyun’s mother, for the sole purpose of sharing a major proposition they have with Jaehyun. Jaehyun and Matchmaker Jung are sitting on the couch, with the production team opposite them, outside of the camera shot.]

PD KIM: “Lee Jaehyun-ssi, we apologize once again for dropping in so last minute and without giving prior notice. We wanted this to be as authentic as possible.”

LEE JAE-HYUN: [Nods] “I get it. I assume we’re discussing something important, but not necessarily bad news..? There aren’t any unforeseen problems with production or anything like that, are there?”

PD KANG: “Oh no, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that! It’s quite exciting, actually — we came up with a new direction for your storyline and wanted to run it by you and Minyoung separately. It’s completely different from the usual narratives we go with. PD Kim and I think you’ll both appreciate the opportunity to do something that’s never been done before on Matchmaking Love.”

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Great. Looking forward to hearing all about it.”

PD KIM: “So…” [Clears throat] “Long story short, we saw the edited segment with you and both Ji siblings. With the footage from the movie theatre. We absolutely fell in love with the dynamic between the three of you and want to see more.”

[Jaehyun wrinkles his nose, a confused expression appearing on his face]

PD KANG: “We know, we know, this is supposed to be a matchmaking reality — exclusively with cheesy, one on one dates. Neither of you signed up for this, nor was it in your contract, but… a great opportunity has presented itself and our execs are a little obsessed with it. You’ll not only be wooing Minyoung-ssi, but also her younger brother who doesn’t seem to be your biggest fan at the moment. It’s a great storyline.”

PD KIM: “It’s unique, fun — not only for the viewers, but for the three of you as well. By the end of your series of episodes, we expect you and Changmin-ssi to be much closer, and if you do decide to pursue a marriage with Minyoung-ssi after the show, you might even find an ally and advocate in him—”

PD KANG: “And those are very good qualities to have in a brother-in-law. Trust us.”

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Uh…” [He rubs the back of his neck, hesitating] “Have you spoken to Minyoung yet? Or even Changmin?”

PD KANG: “We spoke with them first. You seemed like…” [Pause] “You seemed like you might be more amiable to the idea, so we left you for last.”

LEE JAE-HYUN: [He’s silent for a beat, two, three, the tips of his ears flushing red] “And they’re both on board?”

PD KIM: “They’re both on board.”

PD KANG: “If you’re in agreement, we can get this show on the road.”

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Okay.” [Runs a hand through his hair, takes a deep breath] “Okay, let’s do it.”

*

Changmin does say yes, according to the text Jaehyun gets from Minyoung. He suspects foul-play; everything falls in place way too easily, and it’s not pessimistic if his concerns are rooted in realism.

*

Minyoung, who may or may nor be a mind-reader, calls for an off-record council of war.

The three of them meet at a café within walking distance of Jaehyun’s office to discuss this new direction the production team wants to take. This happens during Jaehyun’s lunch break on one of his busier days, so he doesn’t have too much time to waste, but Minyoung assures him that it won’t be long; he promises that they’ll only need a quarter of an hour to check in and ensure that they’re all on the same page.

“So,” she starts, taking a sip of her coffee. “I just wanted to quickly make sure that this was a democratic choice across the board. We can still call it off if either of you are feeling hesitant.”

Jaehyun’s eyes are fixed on his egg sandwich. “If you’re both comfortable with it, then I’m cool.”

There’s a brief silence, then — instead of interjecting with his own opinions on the matter, Changmin is noisily sucking on the straw of his drink, his face carefully blank. Considering how integral his perspective is to the collective decision they come to, Jaehyun wonders if he’s once again faking this air of apathy.

He aims a light kick to his shin.

Changmin pins him with a flat, unamused look, the straw still between his teeth. He says, “what the hell?” but it comes out garbled. Jaehyun grins, innocently.

“Not the time, boys,” says Minyoung. “We need to get this settled ASAP, so… Changminie, any objections? You’re the one with the most to lose, here — are you willing to waste so much of your free time? I thought dance was filling up your schedule again.”

“Kinda, but…” A shrug. “It’s not anything I can’t handle. Plus, this could get interesting, couldn’t it? It gives me an exclusive, front row seat to Lawyer-ssi making a huge fool out of himself.” He grins, then, wide and smug. It makes him look even more like Minyoung. “Who am I to pass on free entertainment?”

That settles it. Mostly.

True to her world, Minyoung is out of the door within twenty minutes of their arrival. It’s her day off, and as she tells them, she has errands to run and places to be and friends to meet.

Which… just leaves Jaehyun with Changmin.

“Heard from a little birdie that you don’t like me,” Jaehyun says, just as the door closes behind her, and it somehow sounds both very casual and not casual at all.

It effectively gets Changmin’s attention, though. He tilts his head, his eyes slightly widening. “Did you?”

The two words are just that — a question. There’s no accusation in his tone, like there might’ve previously been. Changmin sounds relaxed, curious, just on the right side of blasé; the closest he’s sounded to that night at Younghoon’s place, when they talked on the balcony for what seemed like hours.

Jaehyun feels encouraged — like another opportunity has presented itself — and keeps going.

“Mhm,” he adds, before biting his bottom lip in a failed attempt to hide his growing smile. “I believe the exact wording was that you aren’t my biggest fan.” He glances up at Changmin, who’s still looking at him. “Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?”

Changmin looks amused. “Those words have never come out of my mouth.”

“According to my source, they have.”

“And who’s this source?” He asks, squinting at him.

Jaehyun hums, thoughtfully. “I promised to keep their identity anonymous. Sorry, man.”

“I’d like to call my lawyer. Pretty sure that’s defamation.”

“Slander, technically,” Jaehyun corrects him. He takes a long drink from his now-lukewarm coffee. “No lawyer in Seoul would ever touch that with a ten-foot-pole. You have no case.” 

“I could be recording you right now,” Changmin says, childishly, but the sides of his mouth starts to tilt upwards. “How’s that for a case.”

He snorts. “That’s useless, I’m only relaying someone else’s words — but since you seem to be set on this defamation thing… Does that mean you don’t hate me?” 

“I didn’t say that.”

Changmin says that very quickly; like he has something to lose if the denial wasn’t immediate. His eyes go even wider, and then he squints a little. Jaehyun thinks it’s supposed to be menacing, but he only finds it hilarious and incredibly charming. He finds him as nonthreatening as a chihuahua.

He messes with Changmin because he enjoys how visibly annoyed he gets. They’ve only met a handful of times, but he’s been predictably defensive every single time; it’s fun.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Jaehyun teases now. “You either hate my guts or you’re being defamed and don’t.” He perks up, then, as if an idea has just struck him. “I know, I know — you actually enjoy spending time with hyung, don’t you? Your secret’s safe with me.”

Changmin’s responding eye-roll draws a loud laugh out of him. “If you don’t change the subject within the next five seconds, I’ll seriously make sure you regret it.”

“Fine. You win.” He holds both hands up in surrender. “How’s dance treating you?”

This clearly isn’t the direction Changmin expected the conversation to go, because he pauses for a long time. When he finally speaks, it’s much more subdued, Without any hint of the previous playfulness.

“Dance is fine,” he says. His eyes flit across the room, avoiding eye contact with Jaehyun. “Thanks for, uh…” He purses his lips, grits his teeth, like it pains him to force out the words. “Thanks for the other night, I guess. For making sure I didn’t drink myself into a coma.”

“You weren’t going to do that.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know that.”

“Sure,” Jaehyun agrees, shrugging. “You still don’t have to thank me, though. I enjoyed the company.”

 His frown is disbelieving. “You enjoyed… the company of a drunk guy having a mental breakdown.” Forcing out a laugh, he shakes his head. “Makes total sense.”

“Sure,” he says again. “I really liked hearing you talk about your dancing.”

Once again, Changmin’s eyes bore into his. He looks suspicious, then cautious, and then wholly confused — but Jaehyun cannot read him beyond that. Can’t figure out the specifics of what he’s thinking.

Then he blinks, and it’s all gone. The blank expression on his face is back.

“Speaking of dance,” Changmin says, making a move to stand. “I have to go. Rehearsals in a few.”

He’s gone before Jaehyun can get another word in; all but runs out of the café. He didn’t even bother to take his half-drunk iced coffee with him, the precipitation alongside the cup melting onto the table.

Jaehyun cannot, for the life of him, figure out how bad that went, nor how the conversation managed to unravel so quickly.

It’s constantly two steps forward, one step back with Changmin; one moment, he’s back to the side of him that Jaehyun prefers — the one that’s playful and mostly unguarded — and the next moment, he’s hellbent on pushing him away. Jaehyun can take a hint; the caution tape is wrapped so tightly around Changmin, neon yellow and all, and it’s impossible to miss.

Unfortunately, it’s almost like the more prickly Minyoung’s brother becomes, the more the niggling voice at the back of Jaehyun’s mind wants him closer.

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - JULY 15

[A confessional with LEE JAE-HYUN, 31, in his home office. Jaehyun is dressed smartly, in a black turtleneck and dark jeans. He looks well-rested, for once. The producer’s voiceover asks: “How do you feel about the new addition to your outings with Minyoung-ssi? Does the presence of her brother concern you?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: [Shakes head] “Not really. Minyoung and I are only just starting to get to know each other — I don’t think the presence of a third party will change much. [He pauses, then shrugs] “I don’t know… Maybe he’ll help break the ice a bit. Everyone’s more real around their siblings, right?”

[Voiceover: “Do you think Changmin-ssi will enjoy himself?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: “I mean… As long as he doesn’t go into it with a third-wheel mentality, I think he’ll have fun. I’ll make sure of that. You know what my mom always says? You’re marrying a family, not a person. I’ll have to work hard so Changmin-ssi likes me just as much.” [Laughs] “If not more.”

 

JI MIN-YOUNG’S APARTMENT (SEOUL) - JULY 15

[A confessional with JI MIN-YOUNG, 32, and JI CHANG-MIN, 30, Minyoung’s younger brother, in the living room of her apartment. They’re both dressed casually. Minyoung is in a navy and green plaid flannel and jeans, while Changmin is wearing an opened black-and-blue stripped button-down layered over a white t-shirt and light wash jeans. The producer’s voiceover asks: “You’re both meeting Lee Jaehyun-ssi together today. How are you feeling? Any weirdness?”

JI CHANG-MIN: “You’re asking if I feel weird about being a third wheel?”

JI MIN-YOUNG: “Oh, shut up. It’s not third-wheeling if it’s planned! We’re going bowling, anyway, and Jaehyun’s great — we’ll all have fun. You should be more concerned about losing to me. Again.”

JI CHANG-MIN: [Looks directly into the camera] “Noona tends to get a little delusional before her third cup of coffee.” [He nudges her] “Hey, maybe Lawyer-ssi can comfort you when you lose.”

*

Minyoung wins the first round with a score of 210. The camera crew takes off a few minutes later, satisfied with the footage they got.

Then she beats her running streak of 4 consecutive strikes and wins the round after that. Jaehyun comes second both times, and Changmin has yet to get a score above 37. He’s noticeably frustrated about it.

Jaehyun has been honed in on him all afternoon. Changmin wasn’t in the best mood when they arrived, and has only become increasingly more exasperated as the minutes went on. They’re halfway through the third round when Jaehyun takes notice of the merciless look on his face and decides to intervene.

He’s a competitive person, too — so he knows, from experience, that mixing an unhealthy love of competition with sibling rivalry is a recipe for disaster.

“Can we take a break?” He asks, during the third frame of the round, while Minyoung is away on a quick bathroom break. “I’m kind of hungry.”

Changmin turns around to look at him from where he’s standing in front of their lane, red bowling ball in hand. “What are you, five? You can wait until we’re done.”

He spins back on his heel, swinging his arm out and backwards, and then forward to release the ball. Jaehyun doesn’t think he aimed correctly; Changmin always looks like he’s throwing the ball without a target.

He only manages to hit three pins. The look he gives Jaehyun afterwards is scorching. “You’re messing with my concentration.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. It’s his turn now. “How?”

“You just are. And you’re doing it on purpose.”

“What motive would I have to do that?”

“Probably something unbearably condescending and macho, like rigging the game so you can feel better about Minyoung-noona beating you.”

“I have no problem with Minyoung beating me,” Jaehyun says, picking up the nearest ball; a shiny silver one. To prove himself honest, he purposefully makes two consecutive gutters.

Sliding back into their booth, he grins, all teeth, and continues with: “Don’t think you can say the same, though, can you?” Changmin’s glare turns even nastier, and Jaehyun is elated. “What, can’t handle losing to your sister? Sounds unbearably condescending and very macho to me.”

“I will seriously murder you before noona gets back,” he threatens.

“Placing second by default is as good as losing,” Jaehyun retorts, leaning over the table between them.

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” Changmin tells him, looking at Jaehyun like he’s a bug he plans on squashing. He exhales, loudly. “Fine. We can go eat as soon as she’s back.”

Jaehyun’s smile widens. “It might do you a favour, y’know. Maybe you’ll bowl better after getting something in your stomach.”

“You’re really not doing yourself any favours, here.”

“Hanger is very real,” Jaehyun says, solemnly. “I’m honestly trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t get hangry… Whatever the hell that means.”

“Hey, I’m not judging! We all get a little irritable when we haven’t eaten.”

Changmin picks up his phone and makes a point to ignore Jaehyun until Minyoung is back from the bathroom a few minutes later.

She looks between them, squinting. “What happened?”

“Oh, not much,” Jaehyun replies. He shrugs. “We took our turns, threw around a a friendly threat or two… Nothing too crazy.”

“Threats I could still go through with,” Changmin says, eyes still on his phone.

He laughs. “Very true. The night is still young — oh, we also wanted to take a quick break for food once you were back. Thoughts?”

“In the middle of the round?” She asks, a hand on her hip. “Teaming up against me, huh… I see how it is. Neither of you want to lose again.”

“It’s all him. He’s a baby,” Changmin tells her, looking up at Jaehyun, and then smirks. “Kept complaining about how hungry he is.”

“I’m doing you both a favour. You don’t want to see me hungry.”

“Hanger?” Minyoung asks.

He nods, putting his hand up for a high-five. She slaps it with her own, bemused. “Exactly, I get hangry as hell. You get it. He looked at me like I was crazy.”

Changmin kicks him under the table. Jaehyun looks up, startled, but he only smiles innocently.

“You both talk way to much,” he says, putting his phone away. “Let’s go eat.”

*

The dates — they’re not dates, not really, but Jaehyun has no other way to refer to them in his head — quickly become a fixture in Jaehyun’s life (one that he looks forward to, but he’ll only admit to doing so a little bit). Every Saturday, he spends a few enjoyable hours with the Ji siblings. Afterwards, the rest of his week is a whirlwind of work, work, more work, and overthinking those few significant hours.

Regardless, he thinks it’s going pretty well. So far, they’ve gone go-karting (Changmin won), played Uno at a board-game café (Minyoung and Jaehyun tag-teamed against Changmin, who unknowingly sat between them; he lost miserably), and out to another movie (a Psychological Horror; Changmin’s choice). Each outing has been partially filmed, with the PDs asking for the location in advance and the camera crew usually waiting for them on arrival. The three of them are always left alone by the hour mark, though.

It’s a welcome change to Jaehyun’s schedule. He gets along with Minyoung and Changmin, and their dynamic is shaping up to be a fun one — both on and off camera.

(He gets along with one of them more than the other on most days, but he’s working on it.)

The next date is Jaehyun’s choice — he’s been looking forward to it, has had it entirely planned for weeks, so excited he’s buzzing with it.

He hasn’t had the chance to go paint-balling since university; a lifetime ago, really. And while he doesn’t know if Minyoung and Changmin are as enthusiastic as he is, he hasn’t met a single person who doesn’t enjoy themselves paint-balling. The teams aspect makes it interesting — competitive, and if there’s one thing the Ji siblings enjoy, it’s a good competition.

They — the three of them, plus their usual camera crew — decide to meet at the paintball facility close to the opening time; which is probably the best plan to avoid the possible weekend rush. It’s about a two hour and a half drive away from Incheon, in Inje, so Jaehyun is on the highway bright and early.

He actually feels like a morning person, for once; completely awake, responsive, and even energetic at six thirty in the morning.

The drive is a pleasant one, with very little traffic, and he’s pulling into the parking area of the facility a bit earlier than expected. It’s twenty minutes to nine o’clock now, but he isn’t expecting the siblings for at least another fifteen — he’s noticed that they tend to arrive right at the hour.

Jaehyun sends a quick text off to the group chat they created after the second date, and announces his arrival, relaxing back into his chair. He looks out of the window, surveying the parking lot. There are a few cars parked already; coming early was definitely the right move. He also notices a van that looks distinctly like the one that the show’s crew drive around, but he doesn’t make a move to go greet them just yet.

It’s always a little awkward interacting with them. Jaehyun doesn’t mind lying, but whenever they praise his chemistry with Minyoung — which is still entirely platonic — he thinks about how ingenuine it all really is; the thought unsettles him.

So, he stays away as much as he can. Avoidance hasn’t done him wrong thus far.

As expected, he doesn’t receive a text back from the group chat until it’s two minutes to nine o’clock. What Jaehyun isn’t expecting, however, is that it’s a message from Changmin, rather than Minyoung.

hey, I’m here, he sends. A few seconds later, it’s followed by: noona is gonna be a bit late. there’s a situation in the ER and they’re understaffed, so she’s doing a bit of overtime until another doctor can take over.

It’s honestly surprising that this hasn’t happened sooner. Minyoung has been working the extremely busy overnight shift on Fridays for months, but it never seemed to interfere with their outings.

Until now, that is.

He texts back: Hey, that’s cool~ We can go in and secure our spots in the meantime. Do you want to meet at the entrance? When Changmin sends back an affirmative, he fires off another message to the camera crew, coordinating for them to all meet at the front gates.

Jaehyun takes his time locking up, double and triple checking the doors, so by the time he’s finally across the parking lot and heading towards the gates, he can see Changmin and the crew in the background, appearing to be deep in conversation.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, once he’s within talking distance, waving to the three men. “Good morning.”

The cameramen, Choi-something and Kim-something, both greet him politely. Changmin gives him a nod of acknowledgement — he looks a little out of it, bleary-eyed and rumbled with sleep. It’s cute.

“Changmin-ssi was just filling us in on Minyoung-ssi’s absence,” Kim-something says. “We’re on a tight timeline, so we’re thinking of heading off. There’s no footage if she’s not here… Unless,” he tilts his head, leering. “Changmin-ssi could pass as his sister, couldn’t he? Give him a wig and he’s all set.”

“Oho,” Choi-something nudges him, with a laugh. “Careful, we have to keep this kid-friendly.”

Jaehyun thinks they’re trying to joke, but it’s definitely in very poor taste. His mouth falls into a thin line and he chances a look at Changmin. He can’t read him, but there’s obvious tension in the side of his mouth.

“Maybe we could give you a show,” Changmin says to the cameramen, with a menacing smile. “We’re past due for some kissing footage, don’t you think?”

The smile on Kim-something’s face immediately slips. “I—Uh. Maybe not today.”

“Sure,” he replies, with an eye-roll. “Are you going, then? We should probably head in and secure our spots in the first game.”

He says it so dismissively, too, turning towards the entrance as soon as the words are out of his mouth — Jaehyun has to stifle a laugh. The cameramen share a confused look, but quickly bid them farewell and start heading back towards their van.

“That was…” Jaehyun trails off. “Very uncomfortable.”

Changmin makes a noncommittal sound. He starts walking into the facility, with Jaehyun hot on his heels. “For you or for them?”

“Uh….” He wonders if this is a trick question. “Both? Maybe?”

“Was it the cross-dressing that’s uncomfortable? Or…” He side-eyes Jaehyun, but doesn’t continue.

Do you have a problem with gay people, goes unsaid. Jaehyun cringes — he did not consider the… implications of what he said. He doesn’t think he can defend, or explain, himself without coming off worse.

He tries to, anyway. “Okay… I definitely didn’t mean it that way. They were being assholes — homophobic assholes — and it was uncomfortable having to listen to their horrible excuse of a joke.”

“Ally of the year,” Changmin says, dryly, but then he laughs. “I’m just pulling your leg. We bumped into each other in a gay bar, remember?” Jaehyun tries not to think about that detail. “Speaking of… do you make a habit out of third-wheeling your best friend and his husband in a safe space that isn’t for you?”

“I—Well, I—“ Jaehyun stammers, heat climbing the back of his neck. He’s tempted to break eye contact out of embarrassment, to centre his attention on the trees surrounding them from every angle, but he can’t.

“Just joking.” Changmin’s dimples are out. “But wow, I had no idea you were this easy. All anyone has to do is imply you’re anything but the perfect gay ally and you shut right up.” He snickers, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You have no idea what kind of power you just gave me.”

“Why do you always sound like a super-villain?”

“What if I am one?”

“So you’re evil and potentially crazy,” Jaehyun says. “Good to know.”

His lips quirk. “And you’re about to play paintball with me. Completely willingly. Any last words?”

Jaehyun opens his mouth to reply, I take paintball very seriously on the tip of his tongue, but they’ve made it to the office doors and Changmin is already pushing through them, walking straight towards a desk that plainly says ‘Sign up for paintball survival experience here’.

A few minutes later, they’ve put the three of their names down for the first game of the day and are being lead towards the paintball equipment. It’s a few doors down, in another cabin, and they’re suddenly surrounded by a whole lot of camouflage and an assortment of other paintball gear.

A disgruntled employee hands him a pair of coveralls and a heavy-duty vest. Jaehyun looks around for somewhere to get changed, and spots an empty spot in the corner of the room. He nudges Changmin and tilts his head towards the corner, fully expecting him to follow.

He doesn’t. Instead, he stubbornly moves to the other side of the cabin, into a space that was occupied by a couple of girls just a moment ago. When Jaehyun looks over and catches his eye, he sticks his tongue out.

Jaehyun quickly dons his makeshift-armour for the morning; getting on the vest shouldn’t be as easy as it is, nor should it be possible to fasten the complicated buckles without help, but his long arms come in handy.

When he looks up again — Changmin, who is not as genetically blessed in the height department, is very obviously struggling with his own vest. It’s quite the sight; his neck is bent at an unnatural angle, possibly trying to get a look at his back, and he keeps spinning in little circles, like a dog chasing its own tail.

After a few seconds of observing, mostly spent laughing behind his hands, Jaehyun decides to take pity on him. “You need any help?”

“No,” Changmin says, forcefully. He scowls, but it looks more petulant than anything. Cute. “I didn’t ask you for help, did I?

He doesn’t say do I look like I need help — the rebuttal Jaehyun bets he’d usually go for — because the answer is quite obviously yes.

He feels another flurry of laughter bubble at the back of his throat. “At this rate, you’ll tire yourself out before we’re even on the field.”

“Fuck off.”

Jaehyun leans against the wall, biting his lip to conceal his amusement. “Have it your way.”

Changmin tries his luck at snapping the buckles together three more times, before he sighs, defeated, and then grumbles something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Be useful for once,” he spits out. “This thing is impossible,”

“I thought you didn’t need any help,” Jaehyun says, just to be a pest. “Which is it?”

“You’re so unbelievably irritating,” Changmin tells him. He pauses, like he’s working himself up to something, then adds: “Help me.”

Jaehyun laughs, very loudly — absolutely delighted — and moves behind him to do just that. The back of Changmin’s vest looks completely untouched, not like he’s been struggling with it for the past ten minutes.

It’s a bit funny — to Jaehyun, at least; Changmin was practically mid-fight with himself, but with two clicks, he has the vest fastened in place.

“All good to go,” he says, patting his shoulders once for effect. When Changmin turns around with a sour look on his face, silent and completely unthankful, his grin widens another fraction. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

“Eat shit and die,” Changmin tells him, pulling out his phone. He didn’t think it was possible, but his expression swiftly becomes even more pinched. “…Noona can’t make it.”

“What?” 

“She can’t—“ He pauses, then looks up from his screen. “She’s stuck in the ER for longer than expected. Won’t be off for another five hours.”

Jaehyun is not nearly as disappointed as he should be. (He’s far too excited to finally have the weight of a paintball gun in his hands again, and Changmin isn’t bad company, not even close.)

Still, he does the polite thing and frowns. “That… Really sucks,” he says. “Spending all those hours in the ER sounds brutal.”

“Eh,” Changmin replies. Jaehyun starts to wonder if he disagrees with him purely for the sake of disagreeing. “She’ll be fine. Minyoung-noona always wants to help people as much as she can. She finds it highly rewarding.”

He hums. “I was really looking forward to seeing what kind of paintball player she is, though.”

“She knows no mercy,” Changmin says. His face does that thing, where it goes from one extreme to the next — he’s grinning, now. “She’d eliminate you so fast.”

“We were planning to tag-team against you, so…” Jaehyun grins back, a little smug, as Changmin’s eyes widen slightly. “She wouldn’t have.”

“What a traitor… Maybe it’s a good thing she couldn’t make it.”

“Hey, all’s fair in paintball,” he says, still smiling. “If you’re as good as you think, you would’ve found a way to beat both of us.”

“I am good.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You’ll have to go against me on your own now, without noona’s help. Worry about that.”

Jaehyun clutches his chest in mock-hurt. “Does that mean you don’t want to be on the same team?”

“Like hell,” he replies quickly. “I can’t destroy you from the same team.”

Jaehyun’s startled into laughter, and then he’s laughing so hard tears start to form at the corners of his eyes. He has to raise his hands to cover his face. “You have a way of words. Destroy me?”

The expression on his face — both smiling and totally serious — would look unsettling on anyone else. It just makes Jaehyun laugh harder. “Don’t get so excited. They do random selection here, to even out the playing field. Unless you want to destroy me more than you want to win…?”

“Maybe I do,” Changmin says.

“Good luck with that,” he tells him, and then one of the employees — a tall, smiley man with a commanding voice — calls out for everyone’s attention.

“Hey everyone! We’ll be drawing teams outside in a few minutes. For any newbies, everyone is sorted randomly, so you might not end up with your friends—”

A few people in the crowd make it known how disappointed they are, and he laughs. “That’s makes it more fun, I promise! You’ll be thanking me afterwards.” From Jaehyun’s own experience, it is more fun that way. Competition is always more exciting when it’s between people that are familiar with each other.

The employee continues with: “In terms of logistics — I’ll be holding a bag filled with tiny pieces of paper for you to draw from, and you’ll find one of the two team names written on each of them. Make sense?”

There’s a mixed chorus of yes, that makes sense, and I understand, and the employee nods approvingly, before proceeding to usher the crowd outside.

*

The team draw goes in Jaehyun’s favour — much to Changmin’s disappointment, they do end up on the same team, along with eight other players. Each of them is given a blue armband to wear.

“So… Teammates,” Jaehyun says, huffing out a laugh. He stretches his arms over his head. “Let’s do well.”

Changmin squints at him. “Be serious about this, will you? I want to win.”

“Who says I’m not being serious?” 

“In the short time I’ve known you,” he starts to say. His gaze is assessing for a millisecond, before it switches back to indifference. “I haven’t seen you be serious about anything, so excuse me if that’s made a bit of an impression.”

Jaehyun is about to reply, the words maybe I’ll prove you wrong heavy on his tongue, but then a whistle goes off — the paintball game will begin in about five minutes, enough time for both teams to make it to their corner of the woods. They split up, walking in their teams in opposite directions.

“We need to put as much distance between us as possible,” one woman says, speed-walking ahead of them. “The forest is thicker to the west. It’s much easier to hide over there.”

As far as initial strategy goes, it makes sense. They all decide to follow her lead. Jaehyun keeps an eye on his watch the entire time; five minutes — three minute and twenty seconds, now — isn’t nearly enough time to take cover. 

Once they’re much further into the woods, engulfed by a grove of trees from every direction, there’s about thirty seconds left on the clock.

“There’s no sense in going deeper,” Jaehyun calls out. “We’re almost out of time.”

A young boy in his teens looks around, a little hesitant, before asking: “Are we staying together as a team?”

“That never works,” the woman from earlier replies. “Unless we want to give them an easy win.”

There’s a bit of chatter after that; opinions are split at first, but the group ultimately decides to disperse. He turns to Changmin, then, curious about his own plans — Jaehyun selfishly wants a front-seat to his paintball strategy, to witness how Ji Changmin plays with his own two eyes, and that’ll involve sticking together — but he’s suddenly nowhere to be found.

“Your friend is long gone,” the guy on Jaehyun’s other side tells him. As of on cue, the speakers around them blare — game on. “He ran off as soon as the discussion turned in favour of the team separating.”

Jaehyun laughs, because of course that’s what Changmin did. “Any idea what direction he went in?”

The guy points to the left, and Jaehyun gives him a quick nod of thanks before taking off in the same direction, paintball gun slapping against his back. Leaves crunch beneath his feat, and the air around him smells like grass and the potent, tell-tale odor of paint — in the distance, he thinks he can hear the sounds of paintball pellets whistling.

“Ji Changmin,” he whispers, loudly. “Either you show yourself, or I purposefully blow your cover. Your choice.” It’s a few moments before he hears it — the sound of movement above him, probably in one of the trees. “Ah, I can hear you! I know you’re up there somewhere… Don’t you want to win? Show yourself!”

“You’re so fucking irritating,” comes Changmin’s voice, a few seconds later. He’s being louder than Jaehyun was, which is both ironic and highly amusing to him. His head peaks out from between the foliage of one of the trees in front of Jaehyun. “Are you happy? You know where I am, so leave me alone.”

Jaehyun ignores him, waling closer to the tree and tilting his head upwards. “Isn’t snipering them a bit… You’re taking the coward’s way out!”

“Being sneaky isn’t cowardly!”

“It definitely is — they won’t even see you coming!”

“That’s the whole point,” Changmin grumbles, his voice is lowered into a whisper now, and he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s a valid tactic, and it’s not like it gives me clear advantage over anyone, or—“

There’s a sound of a paintball gun firing about 50 feet away. Jaehyun snaps around, shifting his own gun in his grip, and he squints for any movement, keeping alert for any approaching footfalls.

Someone is definitely headed in their direction.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun mutters. “I need to take cover — someone’s coming.”

“You only have yourself to thank for that.”

He pays Changmin’s comment no mind, eyes scanning around them for somewhere to hide. He hears a scream and then the loud thump of a body hitting the ground — the person is even closer, now, and has likely taken out one of their team members. He’s really running out of time here.

Jaehyun looks up at the tree Changmin’s in one last time. He’s perfectly hidden away again. “I’m expecting a show, Ji Changmin. Don’t disappoint me, yeah?” he says, before diving for cover behind a nearby bush. He’s crouched down, on his hands and knees, but his gun is still poised and ready to fire.

Changmin can have this one — but if he blows it, he has to be prepared.

It’s about another two minutes before someone — wearing a red armband — comes bounding around the corner of a tree only a few meters away, running full-tilt towards them. They stop in their tracks for a moment, frantically looking around themselves. “I know you’re out here!” They declare, aiming their gun from tree to tree to tree. “I could hear you, y’know, so there’s no point in hiding. I’ll find you!”

As soon as they’re done with their villain-esque monologue, a series of paintball pellets are shot right above their shoulder, bursting onto the ground — Changmin missed. Jaehyun’s grip tightens on his gun.

They curse loudly, darting for the nearest tree, but they’re not fast enough to avoid the next shot to their back, right at the base of their spine.

Changmin’s cackle rings through the forest, maniacal and booming, and it almost sounds like it’s coming from all directions. If he were anyone else, Jaehyun would be chilled to the bone. He’s just thoroughly entertained, though, stifling his own chuckles. A little charmed, even.

“Game over,” he says, once his laughter subsided. “Enjoy the rest of your morning!”

They walk off, visibly disappointed, in the direction of the starting point. When the coast is clear again, Jaehyun stands and slings his gun over his shoulder, mindful of the sporadic pop of paintballs discharging not too far away. He leans against Changmin’s tree.

“Okay… I’ll have to admit, that was a little cool.”

Jaehyun is ignored, which he really should’ve expected, so he continues with: “I bet you couldn’t do it face-to-face, though.” He knocks his fist against the tree trunk. “Could you?”

“Really thought I told you I was done discussing this,“ Changmin starts, lowly, and Jaehyun grins, wide and toothy. Over the last few outings, he’s learnt that Changmin only responds to his provoking when he can be persuaded to play along.

“C’mon, surely you won’t be in that tree for the entire game? No one’s even headed in this direction.” Which isn’t a lie — they’re too far-out for any real excitement. “We could make an actual bet of it. Person with the most kills gets gloating rights.”

He jumps out of the tree, landing directly on his feet without even stumbling. His own smile mirrors Jaehyun’s; it’s just as wide, but there’s an inherent wildness to it. “Gloating rights are for children. Hyung can put a little money on the line, can’t he?”

Jaehyun is positive this is the first time he’s used the honorific to refer to him — at least in his presence — but even the way he says it now, drawn out and enunciated, sounds like a taunt. “100,000 won good with you?”

His dimple stretches along his cheek. “You’re really serious about this.”

“Yes..?”

“Okay, well, I hope you have the money on you. I only take my winnings in cash,” Changmin tells him, and then he’s off like a shot — running towards the cries of the other players and the paint-bullets whistling in the distance.

Jaehyun tries to follow him, but Changmin is agile and dauntless, sprinting from tree to tree within seconds, and it’s barely a minute before he’s lost track of him again.

Instead, he catches a flash of movement near him; someone might’ve snuck behind him and could possibly be hiding behind the tree stump to his right. He whips around, gun-first, and rushes in the other direction to confuse them.

He decides to take the long way around — into their blind spot — and when he’s in position, whistles to get their attention. When they look up, the shot gets them directly in the chest, and they’re left with a green paint splatter right over their heart.

“Nice game,” Jaehyun says, offering them a hand.

Time stretches, and his second and third ‘kills’ go similarly; without much of a fight.

There were twenty players when the game started, but Jaehyun thinks the number has been halved by now. Most of the trees on this side of the forrest are already marked with paint stains, and he hears the sound of paintball guns being fired less and less. The players still left probably have optimal hiding spots.

Just in case, he keeps his footsteps light, scrambling for cover when he as much as hears anything.

As he continues to move closer and closer to the centre of the woods, the silence around him is eerie. It’s a been a while since he ran into anyone else, but then he hears a laugh — distinctively Changmin’s — and sees a figure that must be him, pressed against the bark of a thick tree, in the middle of what looks to be a shoot out with someone from the other team.

Jaehyun crouches down slightly, mentally counting to three, before he runs as fast as he can — no doubt coming to their attention — and takes cover behind a tree that gives him a direct view of both of them.

He can’t see Changmin too clearly, but he thinks he’s frowning, which is both hilarious and a bit confusing; did he recognize Jaehyun? Or is he threatened by the presence of a third party?

The other person makes the mistake of looking in his direction, and Jaehyun squints, raising his gun, trying to determine if he can get a shot in. It’d piss Changmin off, without a single doubt, and that almost tempts him further. He only has one chance, though, and he’s not sure if it’s worth it while they’re so alert.

So, he waits. It doesn’t take too long; it’s barely a minute before they’re turning back towards Changmin, tightening their grip on their gun. Almost immediately, a bullet stirs the grass right by their shoes, and they act quickly, leaping backwards and firing back.

There it is — Jaehyun’s golden opportunity. He silently drops a knee to the ground and aims for the sensitive spot behind their knee.

It’s a direct hit.

“Fuck,” they exclaim, reflectively reaching for the area. “Who’s back there? Is it one of your guys?” The question is directed to Changmin “Two versus one is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea who’s there,” Changmin says, walking out from behind the now-colourful tree. As expected, he doesn’t look amused. There’s a scary look in his eyes. “I didn’t ask for their help either.”

“Well, I would’ve gotten you if it wasn’t for them.” Those are their parting words, before they limp away, and Changmin is only further aggravated.

“Who’s out there?” A pause. “…Lee Jaehyun?”

He has to cover a hand over his mouth, lest he laugh and blow his spot. Changmin does know it was him, then. Damn. He was kind of hoping to draw it out a bit — toy with him a little more.

He really needs to get out of here before Ji Changmin makes good on his promise and actually kills him.

Jaehyun moves to stand and make a run for it, but then something crunches underneath his feet.

Rather loudly, at that.

He cringes — well, there goes his horribly thought-out plan for escaping unseen. Changmin finds him within thirty seconds flat. “Um… Surprise?”

Both of his eyebrows are raised. “We meet again.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun chuckles, a bit nervously. “What a coincidence, huh? I was on my way east and heard your voice. Your laugh, actually, Minyoung was right, y’know, you do sound kind of scary—“

“Shut up,” Changmin interrupts, and Jaehyun falls shut almost instantly, taking a large step backwards. Which isn’t the best idea, because it brings his back right against a tree.

He tempts fate, then, and says: “What are—“

“I said,” Changmin says, lightly kicking the toe of Jaehyun’s left shoe with his own, as he walks closer and closer. Jaehyun isn’t necessarily cornered by any means — he’s taller and bigger than Changmin. Broader, too. It wouldn’t take much effort to shove him out of the way. Jaehyun doesn’t shove him away, though, doesn’t even attempt to do so. Instead, he stands there, blinking in rapid succession. 

When Changmin continues, his words come out softer: “I said. Shut up, Lee Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun mimics zipping his mouth shut.

Silence falls between them. He’s being observed, and he’s painfully curious to see where Changmin is going with this, so he watches him back — very closely.

He watches as Changmin raises his paintball gun at tortuously slow pace, as the muzzle touches the bare, vulnerable skin where his mask meets his chin. He watches, as Changmin taps it against his chin, once, twice, three times, and hums thoughtfully.

He watches, as Changmin tilts his head, and says. “I could just end this right here, couldn’t I? It would be so easy, too. Wouldn’t even take a second.”

Jaehyun is confident that he’s bluffing, but in that moment, Changmin look like he’s seriously considering it. He’s not blinking at all, for one, and he doesn’t lower his gun either. Combine that with his comically wide, humourless dark eyes and sharp, toothy smile — the wild, gleeful look on his face — and it becomes rather believable; Jaehyun wants to believe he could pull the trigger at any moment, but that could be the sudden spike of adrenaline speaking.

(He finds Changmin both slightly terrifying and absurdly captivating. He cannot, for the life of him, look away.)

He refuses to admit it to himself, but he’s almost disappointing when — not even thirty second later — a round of consecutive paintball pellets splatter on the tree he’s backed up against, about a centimetre away from his shoulder.

Changmin is jumping backwards and into combat mode right away. Jaehyun’s own brain takes a moment to reorient itself, and he only manages to avoid the second round of shots by a tiny fraction.

“Where the hell are they shooting from?!”

“Make yourself useful and check if there’s anyone behind me,” Changmin tells him, a hint of frustration in his tone. They end up back-to-back, moving in circles and covering each others blind spots as they scan the area around them.

Minutes pass, and neither of them have any luck spotting the sniper.

The final moments of the game are fast approaching; it’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop and there’s no visible movement around them — at least, it appears that way at first. When Jaehyun is about to give up, gently lowering his gun, he sees a barrel peeking out between the leaves of a tree in the corner of his vision.

Whoever was shooting at them took a book out of Changmin’s strategy, it seems.

Jaehyun nudges him with a persistent elbow. In a hushed whisper, only loud enough for Changmin to hear, he hisses: “Don’t look now, but I see the enemy. They’re high up in one of the trees directly in front of me.”

He does exactly what Jaehyun advised him not to do, and spins around to look.

“Crazy bastard,” Changmin says, as the shooting starts up again. They both dart for the nearest tree to shield them from the onslaught of paintballs. This time, their assailant shows them no mercy — soon enough, the intense smell of paint fumes permeates the air around them.

He lightly punches Changmin in the arm. “I told you not to look!”

“You can’t say don’t look and expect someone not to look,” he retorts, before adding: “Anyway, listen — I have a plan. One of us distracts them, while the other gets them from behind.”

Jaehyun pauses, pretending to think it through. “It’s much in terms of strategy, but…” At Changmin’s glare, he grins. “It’ll probably work. Which of us is the bait?”

Changmin stares, silently, until Jaehyun gets the picture.

“Ah… I see.” He wipes the palms of his hands on his coveralls, before lifting his gun to chest-level. “If I don’t make it out alive, tell my family I went out honourably.”

“I’ll make sure to leave in the part where you pissed yourself.”

Jaehyun’s cackles follow him into the open grass. Over the next few minutes, he experiences nothing but pure, unadulterated fun, dodging paint-filled bullet after bullet as Changmin slowly makes his way around the surrounding trees.

The sniper fires consecutive rounds without stopping, as if they have an unlimited supply of pellets, but eventually, after Jaehyun sidesteps the third sequence of ammunition, the gunfire seems to decrease in frequency.

He peers into the distance — Changmin is only four trees away, now, so it’s only a matter of time before it’s game over for who Jaehyun hopes is the last red team member standing.

Three trees… Two trees… One tree—

Then he sees the sniper clearly. They’re finally moving out of the tree’s shadows, but unexpectedly— they pivot to aim their next round at Changmin. Who is, at this point, completely none-the-wiser.

Jaehyun runs.

Faster than he has all day. Faster than he has ever, probably, which he needs to unpack at a later date. For some reason, it doesn’t seem entirely fair — doesn’t make any sense — for Changmin to be the casualty of the two of them. In less than thirty seconds, he’s two hundred feet away from where he started.

From his new position, he’s at the halfway point between the sniper and Changmin. Neither have yet to notice him, which only comes to his advantage.

When Changmin starts sprinting towards the final tree, Jaehyun runs in his direction, effectively tackling him onto the ground. Just as he does, there’s the unmistakable sound of a paintball gun being fired.

Jaehyun doesn’t feel the hit at first, distracted by the loud sound of his heartbeat in his ears. He briefly wonders if they got lucky and the shot missed.

Changmin grunts underneath him. “Get the fuck off me,” he says, but there’s a lack of heat behind it. “Seriously. What the hell is wrong with you—“ He cuts himself off, then, as he reaches a hand around to grip Jaehyun’s waist, probably in an effort to push him off. His hand comes back orange. “Oh fuck, they got you.”

“Looks like I didn’t make it out alive after all,” Jaehyun tells him, wryly. “But we can still win, so here’s what we’re going to do now…”

His plan involves using him as a walking human shield — literally.

(Changmin tries to protest it at first, claiming that he doesn’t need protection, let alone from Jaehyun, but he ends up conceding rather quickly — almost as if it was… a little performative.)

As soon as he gets a verbal okay, Jaehyun puts an arm under Changmin’s thighs and another behind his back, lifting him into a bridal carry. He’s lighter than Jaehyun expects; like he has bird bones — it’s easy for Jaehyun to maneuver him into place.

As they walk, very slowly, Jaehyun covers Changmin the entire time; he’s very careful to shift himself in a way that doesn’t give the sniper an opening. And when they get closer to the tree, his protection only proves more useful.

The sniper keeps shooting, but doesn’t manage to land any that matter — Jaehyun is entirely in the way. They go from having a huge advantage over the two of them to being a sitting duck, unable to defend themselves against the only round of paintball pellets Changmin directly aims at them.

And then, it’s basically game over.

The speakers around the forrest blare once again, signalling the end of their two hour session. When they finally get back to the starting point, blue team is officially declared the winner — with five players left, while red team ends up with only two uneliminated players remaining.

It feels nice, to be on the winning team. Jaehyun turns to Changmin and tells him as much.

“Hyung still lost,” says Changmin, smiling pulling at the corner of his mouth. The honorific sounds different this time, less like he’s making fun of him.

“I died defending you,” he replies, running a wet-wipe across his face. How paint and grim got through the heavy-duty mask, he’ll never know. “That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

Changmin gives him a look — unlike any of the others Jaehyun has seen thus far. He takes off his coveralls in three moves, before straightening once again. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” he repeats, shrugging. He leans against a nearby wall. “I haven’t killed you yet, have I? What does that say to you?”

Jaehyun removes his own coveralls, then jokes: “I think it says that you finally respect me as a hyung.”

Changmin makes an incorrect sound-effect. “Wrong. Keep your fantasies to yourself. Noona isn’t into delusional men.” The mention of Minyoung makes Jaehyun give pause, if only for a brief millisecond. He almost — almost — forgot that the outing wasn’t planned to go this way.

“Shit,” he says, licking his lips and then forcing a grin. “Minyoung really missed out on a fun morning.”

Changmin makes a neutral hm sound and walks over to the counter to return his gear. They don’t talk much after that — the walk to the parking lot is a quiet one, and once they’re back at the entrance and about to go their separate ways, they both hesitate; neither of them can figure out how to address the other.

In the end, Changmin tries to go for a casual wave and Jaehyun reaches out to grab his wrist, pulling him in for the quickest and most awkward hug of his life.

He pats Changmin’s back twice in quick succession and then lets him go, turning around almost immediately. “Have a safe trip home,” is thrown over his shoulder, his cheeks turning ruddy from embarrassment.

Jaehyun doesn’t pay attention to what Changmin says back — or if he even replies. His mind is an endless loop of that hug, over and over and over.

It’s all he can think about on the drive back home, through dinner with his parents, and even as he’s waiting to fall asleep at the end of the night.

Jaehyun isn’t convinced he’s discipled enough to stop torturing himself with it.

(He isn’t.)

Which cannot, under any circumstances, mean anything good.

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - AUGUST 16

[The producer’s voiceover: “You and Changmin-ssi are getting along much better now. You went paint-balling together last week, how was that?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: [He blinks, clears his throat] “How do you know that?”

[Voiceover: “The cameramen might’ve said they left, but… We already had cameras spread around the facility. Cameras that were running. So. Did you have fun?”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: “…Yeah, I guess. I love paint-ball. It’s always a fun time.”

[Voiceover: “You both looked like you enjoyed yourselves. Changmin-ssi might become a fan of you yet.”]

LEE JAE-HYUN: [Squirms in place] “I don’t know about that… Changmin-ssi can’t be so easily influenced.”

JI CHANGMIN’S APARTMENT (SEOUL) - AUGUST 16

[The producer’s voiceover: “You seem to be getting really close with Lee Jaehyun-ssi. Your bromance is fun to watch.”]

JI CHANG-MIN: “Our bromance… Is that what this is — a ‘bromance’?”

[Voiceover: “Your sister sure seems to think so. Minyoung-ssi wasn’t actually working an extra shift in the ER last week, did you know that?”]

(CUT! INTERVIEW FOOTAGE END HERE.)

JI CHANGMIN’S APARTMENT (SEOUL) - AUGUST 16 [DELETED FOOTAGE]

[JI CHANG-MIN speed-walks into the kitchen, mostly concealed behind a cabinet. He’s talking to someone — perhaps on his phone.]

JI CHANG-MIN: “You weren’t on shift on Saturday? What the hell, noona?”

[Silence as the other person — possibly his older sister, Minyoung — responds to him]

JI CHANG-MIN: “Like hell I’m going to say good morning. Fuck off with that. I want an explanation.”

[…]

JI CHANG-MIN: “That makes no fucking sense. Like, at all. Seriously. You’re clearly seeing things that aren’t there. Let me repeat myself, in case you didn’t hear me: things that aren’t there and never will be.”

[He sighs, pacing back and forth as he listens to the voice on the other side of the line]

JI CHANG-MIN: “First of all, he’s as straight as they come — your gaydar is shit. Second of all, how the fuck would you even “see” anything there, are you forgetting how this started? You’re the one who was matched with him. You. If you’re not ready to commit, fine, but don’t… Don’t pull me into your mess.”

[…]

JI CHANG-MIN: “I’m serious, Minyoung-noona, what do you want—“ […] “You want me to prove it? Prove what—“ […] “You’re fucking insane.“ […] “You are.”

[The audio sounds obstructed as he argues back and forth with his sister for a few minutes and when it returns, he sighs once more, albeit louder]

JI CHANG-MIN: “Is that what it’ll take to get you off my back? You want me to spend time with the guy to prove what we all know?” […] “That he’s a straight man who’s only interested in you and that you’re wrong and just have commitment issues? Fine, whatever.” […] “Why do we have to pretend to be fighting? That makes no sense.” […] “No, I’m not chickening out. Your plan just makes no sense, but I’ll still do it and prove you wrong. You’re clearly the crazier sibling, though.” […] “No, you’re the fucking worse.” […] “Yeah. Love you, bye.”

*

Something… shifts, after they go paint-balling. It’s very subtle, very slight, but somehow, there’s still a noticeable enough difference in Changmin’s demeanour.

Like there’s a new, third side to him; one that is, for some absurd reason, finding Jaehyun — Lee Jaehyun — more tolerable than his own sister.

He’s directly addressing Jaehyun in the group chat, for one, and doing strange things like going out of his way to inquire about his day and asking if he’s ate yet, which is just plain unsettling.

Briefly, Jaehyun wonders if it’s him; if he’s done something to warrant the sudden civility, or if Changmin suddenly decided to try his hand at being a serial killer and finds Jaehyun to be the perfect first victim.

His question is answered for him soon enough, when Minyoung starts to get the you’re-the-scum-beneath-my-shoe treatment that seemed to be, until this point, exclusively reserved for him. 

He’s clearly out of the loop here. Jaehyun concludes that sometime after last Saturday, conflict must’ve bubbled up between the two siblings.

(So, maybe it’s not a byproduct of something shifting as much as it is another mask. Another step backwards. Another performance. Another defence mechanism.)

Unlike the one-sided tension between himself and Changmin, though, this is more of an outright war. She gives as good as she gets; his silent treatment is met with even more silence, his sly digs are met with cutting remarks that have Jaehyun wincing despite not being directed to him at all.

Changmin has… Well, Changmin has clearly met his maker, and Jaehyun finds himself stuck in the middle of the the sibling squabble of the century. 

Fuck no, there’s no way I’m going to a gallery, Minyoung texts the group chat one afternoon, on day three of their argument. Or wasting my time hiking… since when do you have the bland interests of a White American expat? Do I look like a tourist??? Let’s just skip to the part where we go with one of my suggestions already. This is boring. I’m getting bored.

She and Changmin have been going back and forth in regards to their next outing for hours. Anything Minyoung suggests, Changmin seems to have a problem with — and vice versa.

When Jaehyun tries to mediate once or twice, his every attempt to compromise is met with a shut up, Jaehyun or a this is family business. stay out of it if you know what’s good for you or once, the more colourful: I’ll cut off every single one of your fingers and make you eat them if you play lawyer one more time.

Jaehyun stays silent after that last one.

However, staying silent and minding his business only works for so long. 

By the fifth day, the Ji siblings have yet to come to an agreement, and instead of listening to him and coming to somewhat of a compromise, they demand that Jaehyun should take a side. That he should tell them what he prefers.

He becomes a bargaining chip, one that each sibling assumes they have in their own possession. And while he doubts that Changmin has come to suddenly like him overnight — he definitely doesn’t care for Jaehyun’s opinion; Changmin is just being petty, he knows this — but still, he doesn’t want to take a side.

Jaehyun wants to stay neutral, even though he shouldn’t. Even though he probably owes Minyoung his support by factor of being matchmaking buddies or whatever. He’s much too greedy, though, and a little too much of a coward, a little too much of an opportunist who hasn’t been using his full brain capacity lately.

So he comes up with what may or may not be the worst suggestion he’s ever had in his adult life.

Maybe I can go out with both of you, Jaehyun types, before he can think it through, but then Minyoung is quickly replying with: Noooo I have a better idea. you try both of our ideas and whoever plans the better outing gets permanent privileges???, and then before Jaehyun can answer her with but that’s not the point, Changmin sends winner takes all. I like that, I’m in.

It kind of spirals out of control. As two very competitive siblings, they absolutely jump at the change to one-up each other.

As two very competitive, very stubborn siblings, his every diplomatic attempt to choose a winner results in yet another long-winded debate that has no conclusion. Every outing ends the same way; with a promise for one last round — two dates turns into best out of three which turns into best out of five.

This is how Jaehyun ends up spending much, much more one-on-one time with Ji Changmin than he ever expected.

*

Minyoung is leading, as of right now, with a score of two wins, one draw, and one loss. She’s been pretty smug about it, to which Changmin always reminds her — without fail — that there’s at least one more round to go, that the victory can be stolen away from right under her nose.

They aren’t as antagonistic as before, but the producers seem to be eating it all up. Something about a romance vs bromance narrative. Jaehyun doesn’t get it, at all, but he can’t really complain.

Because the Changmin he spends time with alone — mostly sober and without a hint of performative kindness in sight — is Jaehyun’s favourite side yet.

Changmin has genuinely conversations with him, is the thing. He gives Jaehyun his full attention, which he hasn’t been on the receiving end of since they were relatively strangers. He takes him to the art gallery he mentioned — Gallery Hyundai, with wall to wall contemporary paintings and exhibitions featuring both Korean and international artists. He walks Jaehyun through what feels like the entire gallery — every single nook and cranny, stopping at his favourite pieces and providing personal commentary.

They talk — actually talk, without the usual ribs or banter. They just.. talk. Jaehyun isn’t a huge art person, but he asks questions, soaking up every nugget Changmin tosses his way. Some of his answers are half-hearted, a lot of them are thinly-veiled deflections, but in between all of that, Jaehyun finds authenticity. 

Truthfully, now that he has more; more of Changmin, more of who he is, more of how he thinks—

Jaehyun has absolutely no idea what to do with it.

*

It’s five minutes to noon. Jaehyun has been staring at his monitor for the past hour, genuinely considering whether or not he should risk taking the first half-day of his career.

(This is something he would have never done — before Minyoung and Changmin and the sudden influx of priorities in his life that aren’t related to casework or his family.)

“We’re thinking about getting Thai for lunch today,” Eric says, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Jaehyun doesn’t make eye-contact. “Ah, I’ll have to pass on that today. I might take a half-day.”

“Hyung is leaving early? On a Friday?" Eric asks loudly, in clear disbelief, turning in his desk chair to face him. If he was aiming for the attention of everyone on their floor, he definitely got it.

Haknyeon, who was on the opposite side of the room a mere second ago, appears in front of him at the mere sound of gossip. “Jaehyun-hyung sure has been distracted lately,” he says, with a smug look on his face. “You haven’t had a social life for as long as I’ve known you, but that’s not the case anymore, is it?”

“Maybe that has something to do with Ji Minyoung-ssi.”

“That’s right!” Haknyeon nods. “Ji Minyoung-ssi, who’s apparently not hyung’s girlfriend.”

“If hyung’s going to cancel on us for lunch, the least he can do is invite us to the wedding,” Eric adds, teasingly.

“Hey…” Jaehyun warns. “I still sign off on both of your payrolls. It’s best you remember that.”

Haknyeon raises his hands in surrender, but the grin doesn’t leave his face. “I didn’t hear any denial there.”

“Well,” he finally turns to face them, crossing his arms against his chest. “You’re wrong. I’m not leaving work to meet with Minyoung—“

“See,” Eric nudges Haknyeon. “No honorifics. Hyung is definitely getting some.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, kicking the side of Eric’s chair. “I’m not ‘getting some’. Stop being disrespectful, you brats.”

“You’re not supposed to admit that,” Eric says, shaking his head. Jaehyun may or may not be a few seconds away with strangling him. Out of both irritation and fondness. “Now you just look pathetic in front of your beloved juniors.”

“My juniors need to mind their damn business.”

“C’mon, hyung,” Haknyeon tells him. “Where’s the fun in that? Live a little.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Jaehyun says, sarcastically, before he boots down his computer. He stands up, shoving his things into his backpack. “I’ll be living a little by taking the rest of the afternoon off, while you two finish off the research for the Park workplace injury case. I expect something in my inbox by Monday morning.”

“Fuck, no fair!” Eric whines, leaning back against his chair in frustration. “I had plans tonight, hyung. Great plans! With my PS4 and best friends from back home. That’s arguably just as important as your date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“A date, an outing with your very special woman friend,” Eric says, with an eye-roll of his own. “Whatever you old people call it. Same shit.”

Jaehyun looks to his right, for some back up against the old allegations, maybe, but Haknyeon is… decidedly no longer near them. Or within the immediate vicinity. He tends to do that; entirely disappear — poof — when he thinks he can get out of delegated work.

It works, usually.

He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket. “I’m going out with Minyoung’s brother, actually.” Jaehyun says this offhandedly, scrolling through his notifications, and doesn’t realize anything’s amiss until Eric falls into complete silence. Eric doesn’t exactly do silent, but when he looks up, he’s not expecting the shocked expression on his face. “What’s up with your face?”

“Hyung, are you dating Minyoung-ssi’s brother?” Jaehyun freezes, his thought process blue screening for a moment. “Have we been, like… enforcing heteronormativity on you this entire time? ‘Cause that’s, like, not cool at all. Fuck. We have, haven’t we?” Eric stands up, suddenly, and bows at the waist. In a perfect ninety degree angle. “We’re such assholes. The worst. I’m sorry! Please accept this apology.”

Jaehyun has to blink a few times, but his brain eventually reboots and starts functioning again. “What?”

“Dude. Hyung. Bro,” Eric sounds genuinely distraught, slipping into English for a moment. “I’m so sorry. Really. Have the best time with your… Uh, boyfriend? Haknyeonie and I will have that research sent to you by the end of the night. Matter of fact, I’m going to go find him now. Bye.”

Eric practically runs off, tail between his legs.

Jaehyun leaves the office, a few minutes later, still a little disoriented; weighed down by the word boyfriend.

*

Driving has never been one of Jaehyun’s pastimes. There’s nothing relaxing about it. In fact, half the time he’s torn between falling asleep at the wheel and working himself into an aneurysm — he hates it.

Today, Jaehyun comes to learn that the one thing worse than his usual driving experience is having to drive when his thoughts are racing a million miles per hour and refuse to slow down.

It’s torture: having to stay attentive while the traffic sign in his head is flashing red, red, red, where are the fucking brakes on this thing?

Jaehyun’s, well… It’s not like no one has ever taken a single look at him assumed that Jaehyun plays for the other team. People have. People have met him and thought yeah, I can see him having a boyfriend. Hell, some people — gay people, who he trusts to know these things — have seen him with Younghoon and Youngkyun at their usual bar and assumed he had multiple boyfriends. It’s not that. It’s really, really not.

Really, it’s a mix of a lot of different realizations. All of which have hit him in the face simultaneously.

The most pressing of the bunch relates to how much time he’s been spending with Changmin lately. When he called him Minyoung’s brother earlier, the identifier didn’t really fall off the tip of his tongue as naturally as it would’ve a few weeks ago.

He wanted to call him Changmin. Just Changmin.

He wants to allow himself that; a connection with Changmin that’s not entirely dependent on his — whatever… relationship with Minyoung. He can have that, can he? He can allow himself that. But…

But.

At the same time, why would Jaehyun want that? Why does that matter? He signed up for this matchmaking show to make the whole ordeal easier for himself; his parents expect him to get married at some point and Minyoung is someone who has similar aspirations. Who is on the same page as him. In every sense of the word.

So, why isn’t he prioritizing that connection? Why is he so… eager to spend as much time with her brother as he does with her? A relationship with Minyoung would be a means to an end; Jaehyun doesn’t care for marriage, but it’s expected of him. He could get the opportunity to finally close the door on that expectation.

Jaehyun likes Minyoung. He likes her just fine. More than just fine, honestly; she’s quickly become one of his favourite people. He can actually see himself in a long-lasting, healthy partnership with her, if it ever came to that. And in its essence, that’s exactly what a good marriage is, isn’t it — at least where he comes from.

He likes Minyoung, but for some reason he’s not as fixated on getting to know her as he is with Changmin.

And he doesn’t want to unpack that — not right now, as he’s navigating the road via his maps app, between one traffic light and the next.

On his fucking way to pick Changmin up for the final round of whatever the hell he’s been pulled into.

Seven minutes away, his phone says. So Jaehyun spends the next seven minutes compartmentalizing every single thought he’s had since walking out of his office building. He boxes them all away, with scotch tape and neon yellow labels — to unpack later, to unpack in five years, danger: do not open under any circumstance.

By the time Jaehyun finally pulls up to the front of Changmin’s apartment building, his mind has been carefully made blank. He’s completely zen. Without a single worry. Ready to spend a few hours with Changmin — to be very, very casual about it — and to not overthink any fucking thing.

Hello, Jaehyun types, then backspaces. Hey, I’m downstairs, he tries, a little more informally, before backspacing again. He goes back and forth for a few more seconds, alternating between punctuation usage and emojis, hunched over the steering wheel — not overthinking, though, never that. Before he can settle on a message to Changmin, there’s an unexpected knock on his window.

It’s Changmin, in the flesh, with a hand raised and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Jaehyun takes a final deep breath, and presses the button to open the front seat door, rolling down the window almost immediately. “Hey,” he says, with his polite smile. “Door’s open.” 

Changmin is quick to get into the car, shoving his bag between his feet and fastening his seatbelt simultaneously. When he’s done orienting himself, he settles backwards into the seat with an audible sigh, but otherwise stays quiet.

“How have…” Jaehyun licks his dry bottom lip, flexing his hands on the wheel. “How have you been?”

He tilts his head towards him and stares silently. His eyes bore into Jaehyun’s in that examining, soul-searching way, and Jaehyun, while not exactly a stranger to this look of his, is experiencing it in a very new way. He feels x-rayed, all of a sudden, flayed to the very bone. Like every compartmentalized thought is now out in the open, left without any defence to speak of — simply Changmin’s for the taking.

“We’re above small talk by now,” Changmin finally says, blinking away from Jaehyun and taking his overwhelming gaze with him. “Did you come straight from work?”

That’s also small talk, Jaehyun wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods an affirmative. “You said twelve thirty, so I took a half day and drove straight over.”

“A half day,” Changmin repeats, and there’s that eye contact again. Jaehyun needs to get a grip.

“Yeah?”

“You,” Changmin says, scrunching up his face. “Lee Jaehyun. Mr. Workaholic Lawyer. You clocked out before you had to… And on a Friday. You feeling okay?”

He says that like he knows Jaehyun, like he knows knows him well enough to be very confident in Jaehyun’s work habits and any predictabilities he might be guilty of. The casual familiarity of the gesture — of his genuine surprise — is strange, yet somehow it also doesn’t feel strange at all.

Jaehyun frowns, a little confused. “Why is that so surprising? You set the time.”

“I don’t know,” he replies, frowning back at him. “I fully expected you to only show up for your lunch break. Then you’d run back to your case files and demanding clients before the clock struck two.” He wriggles his hands. “Or else you’d turn into a pumpkin or something.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jaehyun says, but the smile at the edge of his lips betrays him. “And no offence to Cinderella-ssi, but I would never be in her shoes. Stepmother wouldn’t make it through the first night.”

“You think you’re better than Cinderella? That’s definitely a red flag.”

“For you or for Minyoung?”

“Why would my red flags matter?” Changmin asks, slowly, and Jaehyun’s heart lodges itself in his throat. Thankfully, before Jaehyun could backtrack and make things worse, he shakes his head and continues. “Anyway. I was originally going to be a bit of an asshole and take advantage of you and your car because I needed a ride to work, but….” He clears his throat, leaning back against the headrest, effectively ending their eye-contact. “How do you feel about… coming with me? The dance class is only an hour long, so…”

Jaehyun blinks, once, twice. “You teach dance?”

“Oh, yeah. Twice a week, at a nearby studio. It’s just for kids, ages eight to eleven, so it’s not much, but… the kids are…. there’s so much potential, you know? Honestly more than I ever had at their age.”

Jaehyun swallows, eyes flitting around the dashboard. More information to box away. “That’s… Great. Really great. You sound like you really enjoy it.”

Changmin looks at him again, with a raised brow. “I can’t fucking stand those brats.” Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, but he shushes him. “Whatever. Are you in?”

Jaehyun should be embarrassed by how quickly he says yes. He says it much more fervently than probably should. Much more than he’d like. But as the weight of a single word widens Changmin’s eyes, lifts the corners of his mouth — dimples on full display — he can’t find it in himself to cower away in shame.

“Cool,” Changmin says, nodding. Jaehyun has yet to learn to fully read him, but his smile looks pleased. Subtly, but it’s undeniable there. “The class starts at one, but it’s good to be there a little earlier to set up. Here’s the address — it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Traffic is kind to them, so it takes closer to five minutes to pull into the studio’s parking lot. It’s a nice building, modern and sleek; more of a proper dance school than a small, independent studio.

To say that Jaehyun’s excited would be a huge understatement. He’s absolutely buzzing with it, a constant hum just underneath his skin. He knows next to nothing about dance as a discipline, but the prospect of learning, of learning from Changmin who clearly knows so much, of getting to see him in his element…

Well.

Jaehyun feels like he’s being given a once in a lifetime opportunity — something… valuable to hold onto. The feeling is instantly packed away, thrown into the danger: do not open under any circumstance pile.

There are already a few kids loitering the hallway, talking amongst themselves right outside of the classroom as Changmin busies himself with unlocking the door.

“Hi, teacher,” one of them says to Changmin, a small girl that couldn’t be a day over ten. It’s said quietly, right under her breath, almost like she fears that he won’t acknowledge her hello.

“Jiwoo,” Changmin greets her, as he starts to usher the students into the room. His smile is wider than Jaehyun has ever seen it. “You ready for class today?”

She nods very seriously, clearly meaning business. “Always, teacher! I’ve been practicing my chassés!”

“That’s excellent! You’ve been improving quickly. You might be ready for a more advanced class soon.”

“But…” Jiwoo shakes her head, suddenly looking a bit distressed. “Teacher Changmin doesn’t teach that class…” There’s a growing pout on her face, as she thinks the scenario through. “Right? You don’t?”

Changmin frowns. “No, but…”

“I don’t think I want to,” she says, in a rush. She shakes her head again, aggressively this time. “Sorry.”

Before Changmin can get another word in, Jiwoo is running towards the back of the room, lining up next to the other students. He sighs, running a quick hand through his hair.

(Changmin’s hair has been on the longer side since they’ve met, but it’s even longer now, curling along the nape of his neck. He pulls it back with the headband wrapped around his wrist. The niggling voice inside Jaehyun’s head, irritating and persistent, returns in full force; it really hopes he’s not due for a haircut any time soon. The longer hair suits him very much. Almost tragically so. Frames his face shape perfectly.)

“She’s shy,” he explains to Jaehyun, as he moves towards the sound system. Jaehyun follows. “I’ll need to ease her into it, I guess.”

“She’s your favourite,” Jaehyun decides to say, rather than asking, with a teasing lit to his voice. He’s pretty confident in his observation. Changmin looks up from the Melon app on his phone and raises a single eyebrow. “C’mon… You can’t deny that. You really like the kid.”

“She’s alright,” he says, and makes to stand up, dusting off his pants. More specifically, his yoga pants, a piece of clothing Jaehyun wasn’t aware they made for men. He’s oddly fascinated by them, but doesn’t want to be caught looking for... reasons. So he doesn’t — look, exactly, but there are a few glances. To observe.

He shakes his head, focusing himself. “Do you need my help with anything?”

“You don’t dance.”

“No?”

He gives Jaehyun a look that says exactly my point. “Why would I need your help, then?”

“Uh, well…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s true. I’m not exactly dressed for it either, so… I’ll go take a seat in a corner somewhere and observe.” He points towards the far-left side of the room. “Break a leg, Teacher Changmin. That’s what you say, right? Break a leg?”

Changmin rolls his eyes instead of answering. Jaehyun grins and directs himself to his corner, away from the sight line of the children.

“Right!” Changmin calls out, a beat later, clapping his hands. He switches to teacher mode right in front of Jaehyun’s eyes. “Hello, everyone! I don’t see any new faces, so welcome back. Please stand in your usual places. We’ll be warming up soon.”

There’s an artist Jaehyun doesn’t recognize playing from the speakers now. It’s a pop song with a slow, melodic instrumental. They’re clearly singing in English, but he can’t exactly make out the words. He makes a mental note to ask Changmin about his playlist after the class.

And then, sixty seconds later, Changmin and his class of fifteen start warming up.

The next hour passes by with the blink of an eye. Jaehyun is so immersed in the elegant routine, in the ebb and flow of Changmin’s voice as he goes through the choreography — in the way Changmin moves — that it almost feels like hearing the music fade into the children’s loud, excited chatter brings him back to Earth.

“You did well today,” Changmin is telling them as they start packing up, with that pleased smile again. Jaehyun finally stands up and stretches out his leg, shaking his head one last time for good measure. “I’ll see you all next week, okay? Enjoy your weekends! Don’t forget to practice your ball-change-cross!”

Ball-change-cross, Jaehyun mouths to himself. He wonders which move that was.

“Jiwoo. One minute,” Changmin calls out, once again, before the young girl can walk out of the classroom. There’s a hesitant look on her face as she approaches him. “How did you like today’s class?”

“I loved it!” She tells him, any reluctance quickly fading away from her expression. “It was really fun.”

He nods. “Great.” For someone who finds the kid alright, his smile almost looks fond. “Hey, I know you don’t like the idea of the advanced class. I get it. Being in a new class, with unfamiliar people, can be scary, but… You like dance, don’t you, Jiwoo?” She nods. “You wanna be a better dancer?” She nods again, more confidently. “You’ll learn new moves in the advanced class, and so many fun routines I can’t teach here.”

Jiwoo looks like she’s about to refuse again, but Changmin shoves a flyer in her hands. “Think about it over the weekend,” he tells her. “I see a lot of potential in you, Jiwoo, and this is a great opportunity to grow.” He shrugs. “That’s all I got. See you next week.”

“See you,” Jiwoo says, meekly, clutching the flyer tightly. She’s out of the door within an instant.

“Well,” Jaehyun says, when they’re alone and he no longer has to pretend that he wasn’t eavesdropping. “She’s alright, you say. Smells a lot like favouritism to me.” Changmin directs him with one of his blank looks, and he laughs. “It was very cute, don’t worry. Almost like you have your own little protégé.”

Changmin doesn’t immediately reply. There’s silence — surprisingly comfortable silence — between them as they leave the studio and head back to the parking lot. Neither of them says a word until they’re settled in their seats, with their seatbelts secured and Jaehyun’s key in the ignition.

“She reminds me of myself,” Changmin shares, slowly, almost as if he wants to sound casual but makes the mistake of trying a bit too hard. It’s not a casual admission, not to Jaehyun and definitely not to him.

He looks out the window, then, like those five words weren’t enough to make Jaehyun pause, to make him readjust his perception of Changmin by a few more millimetres. “I was just as quiet when I was younger. Very shy. Always hesitating. It took me years to take initiative and own my talent.”

“And you want to help little Jiwoo because of that,” Jaehyun adds, cocking his head. “You see your younger self in her and want to help her flourish. That’s…” He bites his lower lip, contemplating his next words. “That’s really admirable, Changmin.”

He scoffs. “Not really. From where I see it, it’s pretty fucking selfish. She might not even want that.”

“But you’re giving her that option,” Jaehyun counters, lightly. “If she does want to take it, she’ll know it’s there, within her reach.” He might be pushing it, actually overstepping this time, but he crosses his fingers and continues. “No one gave you that push, did they? Little Changmin didn’t know he could have that option, so you want to make sure the kids you teach do. That’s admirable.”

“You think you have me all figured out,” Changmin says, not unkindly, but decidedly… withdrawn. He finally looks back at him, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Maybe Jaehyun did overstep.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “The opposite. I don’t think you can be figured out, Ji Changmin. Not entirely.”

“Hmm.” He leans back in his chair. Satisfied with his answer, maybe. ”I like that. Being unknowable.”

“You put so much effort into that — being unknowable. Why?”

“No particular reason. You’re really nosy.”

Jaehyun stifles a chuckle. “Call me hyung again and maybe I’ll start minding my business.”

Changmin’s lips curl upwards, halfway to a smile. “I don’t recall agreeing to that. Since when do we speak so familiarly?”

“Lee Jaehyun-ssi, then,” he says, raising his brows. “I could work with that.”

“No, thank you.”

Jaehyun laughs again. “You know, you’re much more easygoing when the cameras are rolling.”

His eyes narrow, and he turns towards Jaehyun, folding a leg underneath him. “Is that what you want? I really don’t think that’s what you want. Is it, hyung?”

Jaehyun blinks rapidly, once and then a few more times.

“You like it when I’m honest,” he continues. “Even when I’m a little mean about it. Especially when I’m a little mean about it. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh,” Jaehyun clears his throat. His grip on the steering wheel tightens. He has no idea where this is going. “I mean— Yeah. I do appreciate it when you’re honest. You’re usually hard to read, so…” He shrugs, helplessly.

“And as previously established, you want to be able to read me,” Changmin says. He sounds faraway, almost. Thoughtful. “Even if it can be difficult.”

There’s a long pause. Instead of immediately answering, Jaehyun turns the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life. He puts the car in reverse, and then grits his teeth. His reply is quiet, almost inaudible under the loud purring of the engine. “Maybe.”

Somehow, Changmin still hears him under the noise. “Hmm,” he says, neutrally, and then leaves it at that, turning back to his window.

The drive back to Changmin’s building isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but there’s a weird sort of tension between them now. Jaehyun’s eyes stay glued on the road in front of him, not daring to sneak more than a single glance at Changmin. Changmin, on the other hand, doesn’t look away from the window, as if captivated by a view he must see regularly — he practically has his face pressed up against it.

When they finally arrive, Jaehyun quickly puts the car into park, and decides to just… wait for Changmin to take notice. He doesn’t for a few seconds, which is so unbelievably amusing that it surprises a laugh out of Jaehyun.

Changmin looks up, startled, like he was dozing off. “Oh. We’re here.” He blinks at the window, and then at Jaehyun, and the sheer absurdity of the softness in his gaze breaks the tense atmosphere.

“We’re here,” Jaehyun confirms after a beat, still smiling. “Thanks for letting me tag along today, Changmin. I had fun.”

Straightening up in the seat, Changmin narrows his eyes, regarding him suspiciously. “You had fun at a dance class for preteens.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jaehyun asks, genuinely curious.

“You didn’t even participate.”

He shrugs. “No, but I was watching. That was fun. You’re an amazing dancer.”

“Again,” Changmin says, widening his eyes. “Dance class for preteens. That’s hardly what it’s like to actually watch me dance.” He sounds a little baffled — and almost… offended.

“Is that an invitation?”

“No,” he answers, bluntly. He takes a deep breath. “You might think I’m hard to figure out,” Changmin starts, with one hand on the door handle, “but I can’t understand you at all. All this time spent in your company and still… nothing. Nothing you do or say makes sense to me. What’s your agenda?”

Jaehyun swallows, and wonders how to respond, circling through multiple answers. He wants to be honest, but he fears that his total honesty would only come off as suspicious and inauthentic — too much. He can’t just say I really want to get to know you to someone like Changmin. He needs to ease into it.

“Anything I say, I mean,” he finally says, swallowing around the heartbeat in his throat. “I wouldn’t call myself an open book, but I think I’m close enough.”

Changmin does not look convinced. “An open book. Right. Well, there’s a pack of cigarettes calling my name, so… I’m gonna head out.” He opens the door, moves to get out, but pauses with one foot on the ground. He clears his throat. “Thanks, by the way. For the ride.” The door closes behind him before Jaehyun can say you’re welcome.

Jaehyun keeps his mind carefully blank for the long drive back to Incheon. Doesn’t think of anything but slow traffic and lane changes. Once he’s back in the comfort of his bedroom, freshly showered and out of his work suit, he lies back on his bed, folds his hands behind his head, and stares up at the ceiling.

He opens a single box; the one he labelled with to unpack later, and thinks of all the little details that make up Ji Changmin. His scepticism. His nastiness. His subtle care for others. His intensity and passion.

He closes his eyes and sees flashes of his single deep dimple, his dark, fierce eyes.

He fixates on the words: You like it when I’m honest. Even when I’m a little mean about it. Especially when I’m a little mean about it. They repeat in his head, over and over, and each time it’s in Changmin’s voice.

*

Minyoung puts a lot of effort into her planning; they go on a tour of different pet cafés. Changmin still wins the round by a landslide.

*

JI FAMILY HOME (SEOUL) - SEPTEMBER 17 [DELETED FOOTAGE]

[JI CHANG-MIN, 30, Minyoung’s younger brother. He’s sitting at a table in the kitchen of his family home, scrolling through his phone. The producer’s voiceover asks: “Now that you’ve spent more time with Lee Jaehyun-ssi, has your opinion changed at all?”]

JI CHANG-MIN: [Looks up, frowns] “What?”

[Producer: “Do you feel any differently about Lee Jaehyun-ssi now?”]

JI CHANG-MIN: “He’s fine, I guess, but I don’t see how that’s important.”

[Producer: “He might become your future brother-in-law…. The viewers will be curious. Humour us.”]

JI CHANG-MIN: “Respectfully, PD-nim, why does that matter? I already have one brother-in-law and my very neutral relationship with him is irrelevant. If Jaehyun-ssi does marry anyone in this family, it’ll be my sister — that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Not sure where exactly I fit into the equation here.”

[Producer: “So, you’re not enjoying yourself..? I’m sure it’s been a bit awkward. Do you still have concerns?”]

JI CHANG-MIN: “Again, that doesn’t matter. At all. What’s your—“ [Takes a deep breath] “What’s with all these questions, huh? And why is the camera running— shouldn’t you ask for explicit consent before filming me? I don’t have any other answers for you.”

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - SEPTEMBER 22

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG, Matchmaker, sits with SONG NA-RAE in the living room of her family’s home. There is half-drunken tea and a plate of dasik biscuits between them. DARONG, the family Shih Tzu, is napping on Narae’s lap while the two women talk amongst themselves.]

SONG NA-RAE: “Matchmaker Jung, it’s been a while. I assume you’ve corresponded with Ji Minyoung-ssi since we’ve last spoken? Has she expressed her interests in marriage?”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “Ah, yes. We spoke very recently. She’s been busy with work, but has assured me that she’s still interested in pursuing the match with Jaehyun. They’ve been meeting regularly—”

SONG NA-RAE: [Interrupts] “Is she thinking about marriage?”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “Yes, but perhaps not in the near future—“

SONG NA-RAE: [Interrupts her again] “So, she’s unwilling to put aside her other commitments. Her… work is more important to her, at least for the short-term. Do I understand correctly?”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “I think so, but…”

SONG NA-RAE: [Scoffs] “She’s not prioritizing my son, then, nor any relationship they might develop. That alone speaks volumes. Marriage is about compromise. Clearly, Miss Ji is unwilling to do that at all.”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “I thought Jaehyun was happy with the match…? Has he changed his mind?”

SONG NA-RAE: “No, but they’ve only been meeting casually. He can’t be too attached already, can he?” [She laughs in disbelief] “My Jaehyun is very logical, he’ll appreciate the insight from his mother. He always does. In the meantime, I’d like to invite the Ji family to dinner. It’s about time I met Minyoung-ssi. Could you put me in contact with her mother?”

*

Naturally, after an exhausting, never-ending week at work, Jaehyun’s mother and Matchmaker Jung decide to stage an intervention of sorts for him. The living room has a direct view of the entrance, so Jaehyun is all but accosted at the door — right as he walks in. He doesn’t have a moment to exchange his dress shoes for house slippers, nor can he even consider hiding from what is clearly Trouble with a capital T.

“Jaehyun,” his mother calls out, artificially saccharine. “Don’t forget your manners, we have a guest. Come greet Matchmaker Jung.”

He curses under his breath, then takes a few seconds to let his annoyance simmer down. By the time he makes it to the living room, his signature polite smile is present, straining against the corners of his mouth. He sees the usual cameramen set up in the corner of the room and tries not to think about this conversation possibly being broadcasted.

“Hello,” Jaehyun says. He bows, briefly, half-heartedly. “How are you doing?”

“Very well,” Matchmaker Jung replies, with a tilt to her head. “Your mom tells me that you’ve been busy with work?”

He nods, once. “Oh, yes—“ He starts to say, hands behind his back, before he’s interrupted by his mother.

“Why are you still standing? Take a seat,” she tells him, aiming him with one of her intimidating looks until Jaehyun complies, taking the empty armchair opposite them. “Matchmaker Jung has a question to ask you.”

Matchmaker Jung only repeats herself. “I hear you’ve been busy with work?”

“I’m always busy with work,” Jaehyun says honestly. He tries not to squirm with the need to get out of his suit. “Law is fulfilling, but demands a lot of dedication.”

His mother gives him another look, this one tells Jaehyun that she knows he’s avoiding the conversation — knowing her, his attempt is futile. She’s probably shared his business with Matchmaker Jung already.

“I hear it’s been busier than usual lately, though?”

Just like he thought — his mother is always a step ahead. He clears his throat. “Yeah. I’m working on a big case — all confidential stuff, you’ll have to understand, but it’s going well so far.”

“You’re very hardworking,” Matchmaker Jung says, with a very fake smile. She looks like she’s going somewhere with this. “Minyoung-ssi is, too, isn’t she? Do you like that about her?”

“Uh…” He looks between them, a bit cautious. “What’s this really about?”

“Your mother has… concerns,” Matchmaker Jung says.

His mother takes a sip from her teacup, savouring it. It takes her a few seconds to respond. “We’re both concerned about this match between you and Miss Ji. It seemed wise at first, but… She’s busy, you’re busy… That’s not ideal, wouldn't you agree?”

He frowns. “We’re not too busy for each other, though. We’ve been filming for the show,” he looks at Matchmaker Jung. “On a weekly basis. You know this.”

“That’s true,” she says. The smile plastered on her face makes Jaehyun’s skin crawl. “And how are the dates going? You’ve grown closer, I hope?”

“Very close,” Jaehyun says between his teeth.

His mother purses her lips, clearly displeased. “Wonderful. I’m sure you’ll be excited to hear that I’ve invited the entire Ji family for dinner tomorrow night. With you and Minyoung-ssi growing so close, it’s about time I meet her, don’t you think?”

Dread sinks to the bottom of Jaehyun’s gut. He did not plan for his mother meeting Minyoung so soon. Nor does he have any time to prepare for the level of chaos that will inevitably ensue.

He’s fucked.

*

The next morning, Jaehyun wakes up to the obnoxious ringing of his alarm, and doesn’t immediately get out of bed — for once, he’s completely unprepared to face the day. He blinks blearily at the sunlight filtering through his curtains and feels like an empty shell of a person.

Apprehension sits heavy in the pit of his stomach.

It follows him through the day; as he rolls out of bed an hour after, as he showers and gets dressed, as he sneaks out of the house for a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, carefully avoiding any and all contact with his mother, as he takes a deep breath and finally turns his phone back on, expecting an influx of new text messages from the group chat.

As he watches notification after notification quickly pop up on his lockscreen.

Yah, Lee Jaehyun!!!, the first message from Minyoung reads, Your mother invited my entire family over for dinner? What’s the catch? And why didn’t you give me a heads up??? Two hours later, she sends, Ugh, my mom is actually excited for this… This is HORRIBLE!! I might actually have to play good future daughter-in-law for a few hours. There’s no getting out of it now. Be a good dongsaeng and make sure there’s wine on the menu, okay? I’ll need it.

He scrolls all the way up. There isn’t a single text from Changmin; he hasn’t heard from him at all since that day at the dance studio. Jaehyun tries to pay that no mind. Instead, he makes a short trip to the nearest grocery store on his way home and grabs a bottle of Cabernet — Minyoung’s favourite.

*

Dinner is a strictly formal affair. 

Which is honestly to be expected, at least as far as Jaehyun’s mother is concerned.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to have mentioned that to the Ji family, — both parents, the eldest sister the brother-in-law, Changmin and Minyoung — who unknowingly arrive at a Song Narae dinner party not looking the part. They’re all dressed more on the casual side but Minyoung, coming directly from her shift at the hospital. Still in her blue scrubs, she sticks out like a sore thumb.

Contrastingly, his mother is in a new black dress and pearls, while Jaehyun and his father were forced into suits. She definitely left out her heavily enforced dress code on purpose, he thinks. Definitely as some sort of power move; a cheapshot, a reminder of whose home they’re in.

His guts are all tied up in knots. This will not go well.

“Hello. It’s nice to see you all again,” Jaehyun says, his most polite smile in place. He bows to each of them, slightly bending at the waist, and returns handshakes from Minyoung’s father and brother-in-law.

When he tries to make eye-contact with Minyoung over her parents’ heads to communicate something — his total panic, maybe — he finds himself meeting Changmin’s eyes instead. His face is blank, his eyes comically wide; he looks as wary as ever, but even that… Even that is familiar, if not a bit comforting. Jaehyun rolls his shoulders back. “Let me show you the living room.”

After they all settle in the living room, Ji Soomin turns to him with a huge smile, patting the open seat on the other side of her. When Jaehyun sits down, back straight and hands in his lap, she pats his forearm. “Aren’t you the perfect host,” she says, teasingly. “Call me noona, okay? We’re practically family already.”

Jaehyun can’t fight the flush that crawls up his neck, the tips of his ears quickly going red.

“And feel free to tell her off if you’re not comfortable,” Minyoung adds, from her seat on the sofa opposite them. “Unnie tends to get a little too familiar.”

“I do not," Soomin answers. "I’m being friendly, a trait neither of you are familiar with.”

Changmin’s eyebrow twitches. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun says, with a quick nod at Minyoung, and then looks back at Soomin, smiling shyly. “And thanks… Soomin-noona, Mom is very excited to have you over for dinner. She’s in the kitchen now, but she should be out very shortly.”

Minyoung’s mother starts to stand up. “Oh… Would she like any help? I could—“

“No,” comes out of his mouth, a little too abruptly and much too forcefully, and he tries to soothe it with a larger smile. “Please don’t worry about it — you’re guests. She’s just about done, anyway.”

Except… Jaehyun’s mother isn’t just about done. She makes them wait for another twenty minutes before she finally graces Jaehyun and their guests with her presence, his father in tow.

“Good evening,” she says, from the entryway, keeping her distance. There’s a pursed not-quite-smile on her face. Jaehyun unconsciously holds his breath. “Welcome to our home. You’re all well, I hope?”

Minyoung is the first to stand, offering his mother a bow. “Mrs. Song, Mr. Lee, it’s very nice to finally meet you both. My name is Ji Minyoung. Jaehyun and I have been getting to know each other for the past few months.”

“Likewise,” says his father, pleasantly. “We’ve heard a lot.”

His mother nods in agreement but leaves it at that, not really acknowledging anything Minyoung said. The room falls into a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence.

When Minyoung finally sits back down, a slightly irritated look on her face already, the rest of her family follows suit. They greet his mother and father, standing to introduce themselves one by one — starting with her parents, then her sister and brother-in-law, and then Changmin.

And so, the next few minutes are filled with formal, stilted introductions.

Jaehyun feels clumsy, aware of Minyoung’s displeasure yet standing there in silence as the rest of them slowly get acquainted. Unlike the courtesy the Ji family gave him, his parents don’t encourage any kind of informalities; the entire process is unnecessarily proper and stiff.

He’s ready to excuse himself to the bathroom, but then his mother finally says the words, “Let’s move to the dining room, shall we?” And Jaehyun finds some of the tension in his shoulders depleting.

He sags a little in relief. If the introductions were this stressful, he’s not sure he’ll be able to survive an entire full-course meal.

Someone clears their throat behind him, and there’s a hand at his elbow, holding him back as everyone else filters out of the room — Changmin. “Hey,” he says, under his breath. “You good?”

Jaehyun nods, not looking at him. “Yeah. I’m..” He trails off for a second, shakes his head. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Right.” Changmin clearly doesn’t believe him, but still doesn’t make a move to remove his hand. “Well, if you want out, just say the word and I’ll… I don’t know, fake a bad case of diarrhea and ask you to drive me home.”

“And abandon Minyoung?” Jaehyun asks, a hint of amusement at the corners of his lips, and Changmin shrugs, as if to say she’s on her own. “Wow, you’re colder than I thought.”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I’d prefer not to tarnish your reputation in front of my parents, but…” Jaehyun smiles at him. ”Thanks.”

When they finally join the others in the dining room, there are two empty chairs waiting for them. The first is towards the far right, near one of the heads of the table and between his mother and Minyoung — this seat was definitely left with Jaehyun in mind — while the second is across from Minyoung’s chair, between their brother-in-law and Darong, who is napping in his designated chair.

They both take their seats without direction, and Jaehyun’s mother gives him a look as he’s sitting down.

A look he cannot read; probably not a negative one, as he’s very familiar with every single one of her displeased looks, but it’s still a look nonetheless.

It’s highly unsettling — Jaehyun is unsettled to the point of distraction.

He’s distracted all through dinner; he’s distracted as there’s a polite chorus of I will eat well across the table, as he slowly works through his bowls of rice and gamjatang and the various other side dishes laid out in front of them, as Minyoung repeatedly nudges him once he’s seemingly done with his meal.

It takes a light kick in the shin — courtesy of Minyoung — for him to finally clear the fog in his head. When he flinches back, and then looks up, he realizes that he has the attention of the entire table.

“You’ve been unusually quiet. A penny for your thoughts?” His mother asks, from the other side of him. Jaehyun doesn’t want to reply, but he clearly has no choice in front of an audience.

Jaehyun forces a smile. “Sorry — I’m a little in my head today. Work stuff.”

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me all week?”

Minyoung phrases it like a joke, it’s clearly a joke, but that’s really all his mother needs to latch onto.

“He’s been ignoring you?”

Minyoung laughs, awkwardly. “Okay, maybe not ignoring, I didn’t exactly reach out, but Jaehyun usually sends me the cutest morning texts,” Jaehyun does not, in fact, send her morning texts, “and I missed them this week. That’s all.”

“That’s so cute,” Soomin coos, smacking her husband in the arm. “Why don’t you text me good morning?”

“Honey, we live together," her husband answers.

She frowns, chopsticks halfway to her mouth. “That’s irrelevant.”

When Jaehyun turns back to look at his mother, she’s staring right at him, eyebrows furrowed, but then he blinks and she has a polite smile on her face. “How have you adjusted to filming? Well, I hope?” She asks Minyoung.

Minyoung is mid-drink and quickly swallows down the rest of her wine, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, before she replies. “It’s been an interesting experience, for sure. Jaehyun and I are usually on the same page, regarding, like… what we’re comfortable with them getting on camera and what not, so we’ve been making the most of it.” She pauses and then hums, thoughtfully. “I think I’ll miss it, actually.” She laughs then, but it sounds more fake than genuine. “Does that make me crazy? I feel crazy.”

“Maybe a little,” Jaehyun says, teasingly.

“And did it help you grow closer?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Minyoung looks at Changmin with a smirk, and Jaehyun freezes. “Changminie, you’ve played third wheel enough to know. What do you think?”

He takes a sip from his glass, slowly lowering it. “No comment.”

Minyoung laughs again, before threading an arm between one of Jaehyun’s. “Excuse my brother’s manners. We have grown closer, though, and much quicker than I expected.”

She makes a noise of acknowledgement and the conversation quickly turns to the mutual friends their fathers have, and then Jaehyun’s father realizes that he also knows Soomin’s husband’s parents, and very soon that dominates the conversation; Minyoung and Jaehyun are swiftly forgotten.

Jaehyun’s mother mostly minds her business after that, too. She’s quiet for the rest of the meal; there are no more attempts to cross-examine Minyoung, and so Jaehyun instinctively lowers his defences.

That clearly wasn’t the best course of action, though — a huge misread on his part — because once everyone starts moving back into the sitting room for dessert, she specifically asks for Jaehyun’s help with bringing out the bowls of bingsu. His mother doesn’t ask for help, and she’s definitely also the pull someone aside for a talking to type, so Jaehyun is completely braced for her to instantly turns on him as soon as he follows her into the kitchen.

“What was that?” She demands, and Jaehyun’s beats like a drum in his chest.

“…What was what?” He asks, hesitantly.

His mother rolls his eyes, not a single hair out of place. “Minyoung-ssi spoke for you. Constantly. She kept referring to the two of you as a unit.” Her gaze is steady, not leaving Jaehyun’s face. “You’re not a unit, at least not yet, not until the marriage papers have been signed. I did not like that.”

“Mom—“

“I didn’t mention this yesterday,” she says, delicately, like she’s taking a great deal not to hurt his feelings. “Because I wanted to give her a chance. For you. But my feelings haven’t changed. She’s not right for you.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, and then opens it again. “You’ve barely talked to her.”

“She doesn’t seem like the type to compromise,” she adds, ignoring him. “She expected you to message her every morning, without any effort from her end. That’s not ideal, can’t you see that?”

Jaehyun frowns. “I haven’t compromised either.”

“You’re working on a highly important case, Jaehyun,” his mother tells him, brushing him off once again. “You shouldn’t have to compromise.”

His frown only deepens. He knows this isn’t about compromise, not really. “Minyoung’s job is arguably even more important, isn’t it? She works in the ER — at SNUH. I’m just in the middle of a lot of paperwork.”

“Her job shouldn’t be important,” his mother tells him, a little sharper. “She came here in her scrubs, for God’s sake. What kind of impression did she expect to make?” She shakes her head. “As a wife, her biggest priorities shouldn’t be outside of her home. She’s expected to prioritize her husband, her family.”

“We’re not even married yet…” Jaehyun mutters, mostly under his breath, but his mother still hears him and scoffs. She turns to pour a cup of team for herself, and then takes her time sipping from it, making him anxiously wait for her to explain.

“Miss Ji’s actions are representative of her character. Representative of the kind of wife and daughter-in-law she’ll be in the future.” 

He cringes. He hates it when she gets into these tirades about tradition — it’s why his sister, as single as she is at thirty-three, only seems to be home when she has to be. “Mom, you haven’t—“

She shakes her head. “And then there’s the matter of you not taking the seon seriously. I’ve gone out of my way to hire Matchmaker Jung for help — and she’s put time and effort into matching you with a number of compatible young women. A lot of work has been put into the process, wouldn’t you agree?”

When Jaehyun nods, his mother continues. “Then why haven’t you committed yourself? Your behaviour has disappointed me greatly, Jaehyun.” His stomach churns at this. I only did this because you expected it from me, he wants to say, I don’t see the purpose in committing. Instead, he stays quiet. “Effort is needed from all parties involved. You’ll need to work just as hard as Matchmaker Jung — no, no, you should be working even harder. This is for your future, is it not? Carelessness is unbecoming. I raised you better than that.”

Jaehyun’s shoulders slump, and he leans back against the nearest counter, weary from mental and physical exhaustion. He wants to respond — he’s expected to respond, to nod and say yes, mother, I understand, especially after such an angry berating from his mother — but he struggles to speak around the lump in his throat.

“I’ll commit myself to it,” he finally manages, strangled words forcing their way out. “And I’ll put more effort into the match, going forward.“

The truth is, Jaehyun is convinced that if Minyoung is written off as an incompatible match, any women Matchmaker Jung was to put in front of him going forward would be pre-assessed and hand-picked by his mother. He does love his mom — unconditionally, all things considered — but he also knows exactly what she’s like; there’s no way she would ever pick a suitable life-partner for Jaehyun.

That’s not her priority — her priority is the ideal daughter-in-law for herself.

“Then I’ll continue to consider the match,” his mother says, after a long pause. “But you need to be committed. I want to see genuine commitment from the both of you, no ifs, ands or buts. And if the process does go well… I expect an engagement before the end of the year.”

Jaehyun freezes in place, his blood going cold. She doesn’t seem to notice and continues to speak, but he doesn’t hear a single word — it’s all white noise, ear-splitting sirens going off in his head.

It’s only fitting that this is the exact moment someone walks into the kitchen, effectively interrupting his mother’s tirade.

“Shit, this isn’t the bathroom,” Changmin says, completely unapologetically. Jaehyun’s cheeks redden in shame. He doesn’t want to consider just how much of that Changmin overheard. “Do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

His mother doesn’t acknowledge his presence. She smooths down the skirt of her dress, grabs the tray of bingsu bowls, and then stalks out of the kitchen.

“I guess that’s a no from her,” he adds. When he looks up at Jaehyun, his face is twisted into something unfamiliar. “I have horrible indigestion. Take me on a walk around the neighbourhood.”

Jaehyun finds himself involuntarily smiling. “That’s somehow even worse than the diarrhea excuse.”

Changmin narrows his eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s all I got. Take it or leave it.”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong. I’m taking it. Happily.” He kicks a pair of slippers towards him. “Put those on. We can take the backdoor.”

*

Jaehyun isn’t planning to give Changmin a full tour of their neighbourhood, but it kind of just… happens. They’re wandering for at least thirty minutes, ignoring the frequent buzz of their phones, before they decide to stop at a nearby park. Changmin sits down at the first bench he sees and then proceeds to rob Jaehyun’s wrist, yanking him down next to him.

And then, they just start talking.

At first, they talk about nothing that actually matters; it starts with a comment about the neighbourhood and how different it is to Changmin’s own, which turns into how long Jaehyun has lived in the area, which then turns to the park they’re in and how Jaehyun frequents it with Darong, which leads to Jaehyun asking about Changmin’s family dog Gana, who he is absolutely dying to meet.

It’s almost like Changmin is trying to distract Jaehyun — he’s never seen him put so much effort into useless conversation. And while he is enjoying it, shamelessly so, he feels a great need to address the huge elephant in the room.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Uh. Just… how much of that did you hear?”

Changmin’s eyes aren’t pitying, like he’s expecting. “Enough to know that I wasn’t entirely wrong about you,” he says, with this all-knowing look, and Jaehyun’s stomach drops out.

“What do you mean?”

“You never wanted to go through with this,” he tells Jaehyun, confidently. “Not out of our own will.” Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, anything — denial, maybe — but Changmin clamps a hand over his mouth. “Shut up and let me speak.”

He doesn’t remove his hand from Jaehyun’s mouth. “You sounded desperate. Like you have no choice but to follow through and this is your best bet at some semblance of happiness. Like…”

Dark, wide eyes roam over his face, and Jaehyun feels a familiar surge of heat scaling up the side of his neck. “Like you’ve lived your entire life assuming that certain things are expected of you — like marriage, like marriage to a woman your mother wholly approves on. You’ve never considered having a choice in the matter. But now that it’s here, now that the grim reaper is knocking on your door… You’re desperate.”

The look he gives Jaehyun, then, is defiant. He slowly moves his hand. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I—“

“This is a yes or no question, Lee Jaehyun.” Jaehyun starts to look off to the side, just a bit, and Changmin is back in his space again, grabbing his chin and forcing eye contact. “Yes or no. Am I wrong?”

He licks his lips, exhaling harshly. “No.”

“No, what?”

“You’re not wrong,” he says, quietly, and momentarily closes his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking, signing up for the show.” Jaehyun disguises his discomfort with a chuckle, and shrugs. “It almost felt like… Almost like I was cheating the system, y’know? Little effort needed on my end. I just had to go through the motions.”

Changmin hums. “And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Not to make you sound like a total dumbass, but…” Jaehyun huffs out a breath of air. “Your logic is seriously flawed. Wouldn’t the end-goal of a matchmaking show be, I don’t know… A committed relationship? One that could realistically end in marriage?”

He pinches Changmin’s side. “Okay, okay, I get it. No need to rub it in. Yes, I didn’t think any of it through. Yes, at the back of my mind, I was trying to stall and avoid what I thought was inevitable. Yes, it clearly blew up in my face.” When he chances a look back at Changmin, he’s smiling — like it amuses him to see Jaehyun under such duress. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jaehyun repeats, mocking him. “Bullshit. You saw right through me and ruined everything.”

“I work with dancers,” he says, evenly. “They’re all pathological liars. Including me.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth lift. “So seeing past the whole…” He waves a hand in Jaehyun’s general direction. “Earnest-and-desperate-to-please thing you had going on was a little too easy.”

“Well,” says Jaehyun, refusing to even acknowledge the words desperate to please. “Anyway. That’s enough of my problems. Your audition was this week, right? How’d that go?”

Changmin pins Jaehyun with an unexpectedly intense stare. It’s like he shifts, from one moment to the next — from teasing and lighthearted to… fierce, dangerous, like his existence has weight to it. It makes Jaehyun’s stomach clench in anticipation, twists his gut into knots.

He doesn’t know what to expect, and that’s just it — isn’t it, he never knows what to expect with Changmin. Everything about him is uncharted territory; one unpredictability to the next.

“I…” Changmin swallows, but his stare doesn’t let up, turning suspicious. “You remembered that?”

Tilting his head, curiously, he starts to say, “yeah, ‘course—“ but then Changmin is pulling him close by the collar of his shirt, and then he’s kissing him, kissing him, swallowing the words right out of his mouth.

Jaehyun doesn’t really register what’s happening for a good few seconds. He goes completely offline, overwhelmed by warmth, by chapped lips catching his own, by the feeling of hot breath against his cheek and lava in his belly. It isn’t until Changmin flinches slightly, and then starts to pull away, separating their lips, that Jaehyun scrambles to feel his way to the small of his back, resting one hand firmly against it, pulling him close again.

They’re barely a breath apart, for the briefest of moments, and then Jaehyun absolutely needs to kiss him again, so he does, sliding their mouths together, slipping his fingers into Changmin’s hair. Changmin makes a startled noise, but then he’s leaning in even closer, hands pressed against Jaehyun’s chest, kissing him back, sucking Jaehyun’s lower lip into his mouth for a moment before letting it pop free.

The second kiss lasts much longer than the first, unconsciously leading way to the third and then the fourth.  Less of a simple touch of lips — much more… relentless, overwhelming. They kiss until he’s dizzy with it.

He’s surrounded by the taste of Changmin, by the touch of him, by the smell of him.

When they finally break apart, forced to catch their breath, Jaehyun takes a moment to memorize the expression on Changmin’s face. He’s breathing harshly, his eyes shut closed, and there’s a furrow between his brows. He’s hit by another urge — this time, to reach out and smooth out the most prominent wrinkle. 

Before he can contemplate either suppressing or acting on the impulse, though, Changmin’s eyes are flying open, and not even a second later, just as he meets Jaehyun’s gaze, his expression instantly crumbles.

Changmin jumps off of the bench. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fuck. Fuck!”

Like a switch is flipped, Changmin’s eyes go cold. “You weren’t supposed to kiss back,” he mutters, lowly, pacing back and forth as Jaehyun watches helplessly, with the lingering taste of salt and cigarettes in his mouth.

He’d been so caught up in feeling that the full scope of what had happened, just a mere moment ago, feels like it had been an out-of-body experience — almost like he wasn’t an active participant, like his body had a mind of its own.

Jaehyun doesn’t know where to start; Changmin kissed him — kissed him first — but he definitely kissed back, and initiated more than one other kiss. And now Changmin is completely freaked out, staring at Jaehyun like he’s grown three other heads and killed his dog.

“Hey,” he says, slowly, not entirely sure where he’s going with this. He’s confused and emotionally overloaded and already on the verge of thinking himself into a black hole. 

Changmin shakes his head, and his eyes, for once, betray him. He looks terrified — terrified and confused and hurt. He points in the opposite direction of where they came from. “I’m… gonna go.”

It doesn’t take long for him to be a blimp in the distance, moving further and further away.

Perhaps, this distance might not only be physical.

Eventually, after Jaehyun has had his fill of staring into the night and experiencing dread, he returns home. They ask about Changmin. He tells them that he wasn’t feeling well and called it an early night.

Jaehyun makes his own excuses to avoid company and hurries up into his room.

He doesn’t fall asleep until well after midnight.

*

His entire life, thirty one whole years of existence, and Lee Jaehyun has never — not once — considered his identity to be anything but what society had already assumed of him. He never stopped to seriously consider what it would mean for him if those assumptions didn’t fit.

He existed within the confinement of four walls and never, ever took the initiative to look beyond them. 

Here he is now, thirty one years later, finally forced to confront an unfamiliar aspect of himself; one that could’ve existed the entire time, lying dormant just underneath the surface.

All because of one moment — one moment with one very particular person, to be more specific.

Ji Changmin came into Lee Jaehyun’s world, threw his carefully maintained, orderly life into utter chaos, and didn’t even realize he was doing it. He threw every element of Jaehyun’s existence into disarray, and wasn’t even trying.

It developed slowly, subtly; the transformations he influenced did not come overnight, but with all this change happening right under Jaehyun’s nose, it might as well have been.

He hasn’t been the same person for months; since July, maybe, if not even earlier, and he’s only just noticing. Only did notice because Changmin bit the bullet and decided, on a complete whim, to kiss him.

And kiss they did.

That first press of Changmin’s mouth against his, dry and tentative, is still playing in his mind, rewinding over and over like a broken cassette tape he can’t bear to turn off. It wasn’t even a particularly good first kiss — objectively, he’s had much better — but the memory associated with this one; the soft fluttering of Changmin’s eyelashes, the very faint stubble on his chin and cheeks, the tension in his body as he pulled back from that first kiss, will probably stay with Jaehyun forever.

He doesn’t know what to do with all of this… all of these sudden, unexplainable feelings.

All these thoughts that are simultaneously very new and very not. All of the factors that need to be considered before he can even begin to understand where he should go from here.

Jaehyun is stuck in the middle of the ocean, all alone, with an instructional handbook he cannot read and a faraway island he’s desperate to reach.

So, he does what any sensible person who just realized they’ve been living a lie would do and effectively gets in his head about it.

The day after the dinner with the Ji family is spent almost exclusively in his room, under the covers, ruminating his entire existence with added context. He takes a few bathroom breaks, makes sure to regularly hydrate, eats a granola bar or two, and tries to think through his own observations impartially.

He kissed Changmin — another man — and enjoyed it more than any kiss he’s previously had in his life. 

He’s unbelievably interested in Changmin — drawn to Changmin — and much more than he’s ever been with any of his ex-partners. Being matched with Minyoung did nothing to curb that interest; if anything, having Changmin so close and accessible only added to it. He likes spending time with him. He is increasingly curious about his interests, his passions, what makes him tick. He likes him.

Jaehyun likes him, he likes Changmin, Lee Jaehyun likes Ji Changmin — this is conclusive, incontestable, undeniable. A definitive fact that’s all but proven. However, he still doesn’t know how to move forward.

He signed a contract, for one.

His mother made it clear that she’s expecting an engagement by November, for two.

He genuinely likes Minyoung as a person, and as a friend, and does not want to betray her trust, for—

His spiralling thoughts are interrupted by the insistent buzz of his cellphone. He tries to ignore it the first time, and the second, and the third, and then he decides that ignoring his phone is doing more harm than good. He reaches blindly for it, patting around the surface of his bed until he finds it underneath the covers, on the verge of falling off the edge.

Jaehyun squints at the screen. The source of the buzzing is a series of text messages from a number he doesn’t recognize. He click the notification out of curiosity, and only finds himself more convinced.

you’re an asshole, the first text reads. Well, he’s assuming that’s what it says. There are quite a few typos. The next message says: and I know where you live so be carefulllllll, and is quickly followed by: sleep with your eyes closed. I mean open kkkkk. but really sleep with your eyes open cause I’m gonna get ya when you least expect it. I own pepp=er spray. More typos — typos galore. Whoever this is, they’re either totally out of it or own an extremely large pair of hands and can’t work a phone keyboard.

He could really use the distraction, so he decides to reply.

< Are you drunk?

> nooooope nice try kkk that’s none of your business

Jaehyun blinks. The reply is instantaneous, but it still doesn’t give him much to work with. This has to be a wrong number — right? He doesn’t recall giving his number to anyone new recently, let alone someone who would have it out for him.

< It’s 2pm. On a Sunday.

> yuuuuuup

> and Sundays are for margaritas  🍸🍋

> but that’s none of your business either

> so fuck off

< See.. I would, but you texted me first and now I have a few questions…

< Let’s start off simple. Who are you??

> he was right you’re really nosy

> I’m karma

> coming to get you veryyyyy very soon (*˘︶˘*). ｡ * ♡

> this is you and me

 A__A     ✨🎂✨     A__A

( • ⩊ •)   _______   (• ⩊ • ) 

(> 🍰 >)   |    |   (< 🔪 <)    

< Who is ‘he’? Did he give you my number? Do you even know who you’re texting?

At this point, Jaehyun is more confused by this person’s overly cutesy talk of vengeance than he is by the mess of tangled emotions in his chest. He was looking for a distraction and clearly, his prayers have been answers — here it is, staring him directly in the face and begging for his attention.

The person behind the messages sounds more and more like they do know Jaehyun; this can’t be a wrong number situation he can spin and retell as a funny anecdote. This person sounds very, very serious. They use the word karma and refer to a ‘he’; perhaps, the person they think he wronged. For a brief moment, Jaehyun wonders if this could be a resentful defendant trying to mess with him — God knows he’s dealt with a few of those — but then he gets a series of new texts… and it instantly clicks into place.

> I know you but you don’t know meeeee

> Lee Jaehyun hehehe you’re an asshole

> and now you’re going to get what you deserve!

> byeeeee we just ordered more drinks

> enjoy your very terrible day without any margaritas  ◡̈

< Wait.

< Wait!!! Come back

< This has to be about Changmin… Is he

< Fuck that sent too fast

< Is he okay?

> shitshitshit you were not supposed to figure it out

> delete these texts nowwwwww

> seriously deletethemorelse. blocking you now. bye  ◡̈

Jaehyun doesn’t bother texting back. If the last few minutes have taught him anything, it’s that this person does not seem like the bluffing type. No message he sends will be received.

He groans, loudly, throwing himself backwards onto his mattress, letting the phone drop onto the floor.

So… that happened. His mystery texter is definitely a friend of Changmin’s — and not just any friend. They’re a close friend of Changmin’s; close enough for Changmin to confide in them, close enough for the two of them to be out day-drinking together on a Sunday morning. 

He’s not only a close friend who knows what happened, but also one that sees Jaehyun in a very negative light. Which… says a lot, honestly; about Changmin’s thoughts, about where his head is at after the night before. Jaehyun deserves the hostility. Probably. Even if Changmin was the one to make the first move.

Jaehyun clearly didn’t help by kissing back, nor by initiating the second one, and now…

Now he’s back at square one, unable to make any sort of sense out of the million and seven thoughts whirling through his mind.

After a few more minutes of counterproductive contemplation, Jaehyun gives up and defaults to his usual go-to for any sort of vulnerability or sadness. He rolls over and takes a nap.

*

Waking up is a slow affair.

Awareness creeps into his body in stages. First, Jaehyun notices the warmth he’s surrounded by; he’s beginning to sweat, but doesn’t remember putting a blanket over himself. Secondly, he smells something earthy and woody — familiar, but distance enough that he can’t exactly pinpoint its familiarity. And then, finally, as he starts to blink himself into full consciousness, he registers that someone’s hair is in his mouth.

That same someone is lying on top of Jaehyun, head on his chest, dead to the world and snoring away.

It’s Younghoon, whose presence Jaehyun wasn’t exactly expecting but isn’t disappointed by — if there’s a single person he’d want to confide in post-whatever, it’s Younghoon. 

He lets himself settle back into his pillow, careful not to disrupt his best friend.

He almost wonders if Changmin — if Changmin…. He can’t think past that: if Changmin. If Changmin happened to tell Younghoon anything — before or after the kiss. If Changmin ever brought up the subject of Jaehyun with him. If Changmin was, at any point, totally honest with Younghoon; or if Changmin only ever shared the shallow parts, what was on the a surface level, if he ever said I don’t like your best friend, and left it at that.

If Changmin did like him in that sense — romantically — would Younghoon even know?

If Changmin, for some reason, had a thing for ruining the lives of self-perceived straight men, ruining them for anyone else… would Younghoon know to warn him?

Jaehyun inhales a harsh breath. Younghoon’s head, resting on his sternum, slightly moves with it.

It doesn’t take much for him to wake. He must’ve been dozing, rather than experiencing deep slumber. Unlike Jaehyun, he’s sitting up all at once, aggressively rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I see you’ve made yourself welcome,” Jaehyun says, with a fond smile.

Younghoon frowns. “What happened to ‘what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours’? As far as I know, our third grade wedding vows are still holding up.”

In retrospect, his closeness with Younghoon could’ve been the earliest sign of his… He shuts his eyes, and then opens them a second later. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to acknowledge this past what he may possibly feel for Changmin. Anything that has been internalized needs to be addressed at a later date.

Younghoon’s staring. He’s definitely noticed something. Jaehyun clears his throat, sitting up a little and leaning his weight on his elbow. “And what does your husband think of that, Mr. Kim-Kim?”

“My husband is a good spouse and knows when to mind his own business,” he says offhandedly, but his eyes are telling a different story. With over two decades of friendship between them, it doesn’t take long for him to find a loose thread to pull. He raises a brow. “When I came in, Auntie said you haven’t left your room all day. And you were napping when I walked in — you’re clearly going through some kind of crisis.”

“It’s been a long week—“

“Bullshit. Your answer to work-induced stress is more work-induced stress. This is different.”

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Jaehyun tries to maintain eye-contact, but still doesn’t answer. Younghoon reaches out to tweak his ear. “Do I need to force it out of you? Because you know I will. Plus,“ he frowns, thinking through his next words. “I kind of already know, so… Spill.” 

Jaehyun’s stomach bottoms out. He feels like he can’t breathe, all of a sudden, like I kind of already know wraps itself around his throat and squeezes. “You already know?” His voice comes out a little too high.

“We’re not doing this,” Younghoon tells him, repositioning itself to sit up on his knees.

This is the most serious he’s ever seen his best friend look. Jaehyun’s not sure that’s comforting.

“I don’t…” He mirrors Younghoon, but pulls his own knees up to his chest. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Talk about… Talk things through? I don’t know.”

Younghoon rests a hand on his foot, the weight of it meant to reassure him. “You always talk things through with me, don’t you? Whenever I… Y’know, have ever needed advice on something — anything at all — you broke down every single possible scenario for me. That’s talking things through.”

“This is different.”

“In what way?” Younghoon asks, softly. “Because you’re the subject? Because it involves feelings? Because you’re experiencing your first sexuality crisis in your thirties despite having a very gay best friend by your side all through puberty?”

“Uh…” Jaehyun chokes on his own breath. “All of the above? Not sure about the sexuality crisis, though.”

He raises both brows this time. “So you didn’t kiss Changmin?”

Jaehyun pinks, hiding his face in his arms. “Well… Yeah—”

“That’s what I thought.”

He exhales, heavily, and digs his teeth into his lower lip. His next words are low, mumbled against the skin of his forearms, barely audible. His ears are turning crimson. “I’m just… not completely sure if it’s a sexuality thing as much as it is a Changmin thing.”

Younghoon does something he’s not expecting — he laughs, loudly, and doesn’t stop. He goes on and on, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, and Jaehyun just… lets him, burning with shame and embarrassment and the shame of being embarrassed.

By the time Younghoon finally composes himself, pulling Jaehyun into a tight hug, he has embarrassingly thought himself into five different worst-case-scenarios.

“Man, that was, like, the most cliché thing you could’ve said to me,” he says, running a soothing hand down Jaehyun’s back. “As your best friend, I’ll support you through this process however you need me to, but maybe don’t use those exact words in anyone else’s presence.”

Jaehyun cringes. “Was that… Please tell me I didn’t sound like a total stereotype just then.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Younghoon agrees, easily. “But I will tell you that calling it a… Changmin thing could be your way of simplifying something that’s— I’ll give it to you straight, it’s anything but simple. It’s a learning curve; and no two people experience it the same way. It might help you to compartmentalize your attraction, centre it on one guy for now, but..” He fits his head into the space where Jaehyun’s neck meets his shoulder, tightens his arms around his waist. “Like I said, it doesn’t work that way with everyone. You might offend someone without meaning to.”

He hums. “I get that.” And he does — he understands that it’s a lived experience, and with that comes far too many complexities, but Jaehyun doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. He expresses just that. “I still don’t feel like I’m ready to fall face-forward into something I’m so unfamiliar with. I…” He swallows again, despite his dry throat. “I like Changmin, but it’s just so… so complicated, so muddy. I don’t know.”

“You like Changmin,” he repeats, teasingly. “What does that even mean to you, exactly?”

“What do you think it means,” Jaehyun elbow his side, hard. “Stop being such a nuisance, you bastard, especially in my moment of need.”

“I’m being serious,” he says, peering up at him. “This is me asking as a friend of Changmin’s. When he first started asking about you, I was convinced you were, like…” He snorts. “Unknowingly leading him on.”

“He asked about me?”

A painful flick to Jaehyun’s earlobe. “That’s not the point, but yes.” Jaehyun feels an abrupt clench in his gut. “Anyway — answer the question. Those few times we hung out together… He was a bit prickly with you, but that’s Changmin, y’know, he can get that way around people he doesn’t know or trust. Weeks later, he’s suddenly… I don’t know, asking me why you seem so interested in him? If it’s something you — and I’m quoting him directly, here — are being genuine about or if it’s some game you’re playing."

“I don’t play games. At least, I don’t think…”

“That’s exactly what I said. He clearly didn’t believe me, but then he also started getting this weird look on his face whenever I mentioned you. I’d say something harmless, like— oh, Jaehyunie got Bori that hat for her birthday — and it was almost like he totally shut down. His face would go blank, but blank-blank, not a visible emotion or thought on his face.” Jaehyun has become very familiar with this look over the past few months. He continues, “I mean, it makes sense now, but it was so weird in the moment, y’know? Chanhee couldn’t even tell what was going on with him.”

He recognizes the name of Changmin’s best friend, he’s about to ask Younghoon to elaborate, when he — without any warning — lightly bites at Jaehyun’s cheek. Jaehyun instinctively raises a hand to soothe it. “Hey. What the hell—“

“Answer my question, already. So you like Changmin, what does that mean to you?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “What it’s always meant, I guess. I like him; I really enjoy spending time with him. I think he’s… very cool and uniquely funny and unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

He fakes a loud yawn and an accompanying snore. “You sound like you’re writing a review. You can do better than that — why do you like him?”

“He’s…” Jaehyun sighs. “He’s helped me rediscover things… about myself. Some that I willingly sacrificed and let go of, and others that I unconsciously let myself forget.” He closes his eyes, inhaling through his nose. “He’s so passionate about his dancing that it’s contagious. I find myself — pretty constantly, actually, it’s embarrassing — wanting to be within his vicinity just to listen to him talk about dance. To listen to him talk about anything, honestly. From the first moment I talked to him, properly talked to him, in the balcony of your apartment,” Younghoon raises his head at this, intrigued, “I knew we connected, at least on some level. So I started pushing.” Jaehyun clears his throat, a sheepish look on his face. “There was a lot of push-back. I’m talking a lot, but… Little by little, I somehow annoyed my way through the layers and layers of his defences. He gave me a chance, and I saw someone — really saw someone. A guy, who hides behind an easygoing mask, but constantly gives and gives and gives; to his family, to the students that look up to him, to his craft and aspirations, and never asks for anything back. He gives everything his all, leaves his entire heart out to dry, and that… I don’t know.”

Jaehyun forces out a laugh, rubbing a hand across his face. “That pulled me in, I guess. I was desperate to experience that — to be given Changmin’s all; the force of his full attention, the intensity of his unadulterated interest.”

“Damn,” Younghoon whistles, and Jaehyun squirms a little into the mattress, completely wrung out, peeled open. “You’ve never spoken about anyone like that. Ever. Can we acknowledge that?”

There are goosebumps rising along on the backs of his arms. “Yeah. It’s, uh… It’s a lot.”

Younghoon makes a noise of consideration. “I bet… And on top of all of that, you get all hot and bothered when he’s mean to you.”

“Younghoon,” Jaehyun gapes at him for a second, before he genuinely laughs at how unbothered Younghoon looks, covering his face with both hands. His following words are whispered between them, but his best friend hears him loud and clear: “And I may or may not like it when he’s mean to me.”

*

Jaehyun mulls over Younghoon’s advice for the rest of the week.

He convinces himself that he deserves a moment — well, many moments — to consider his words and think everything through; to reflect on them on his own time.

Between Jaehyun’s busy workload and his huge effort to avoid thinking about anything but his latest case… It’s not a surprise that none of that reflection gets done. He works nine to ten hours every day, commutes for another hour and a half and then gets home ready to knock the fuck out.

It’s cowardly, is what it is. Jaehyun knows. He knows that he isn’t taking this well, but how else should he react to his world being turned completely on its axis?

It’s much easier to simply go on with his life — at least, for as long as he can.

He has other commitments that will not wait for him to finish having an identity crisis. Other obligations that are more important than Jaehyun’s feelings; feelings that probably aren’t reciprocated if Changmin’s exit is anything to go off of. He needs to shut off that side of his brain to focus on what really matters.

Younghoon might be disappointed in him, but he can live with that, and so Jaehyun’s self-preservation skills end up working overtime over the next few days.

He only really comes back to the thoughts of feelings during the idle in-betweens — when the chatter dies down during meals with his co-workers, or as he’s stuck in traffic driving to and from work — but a good, aggressive shake of the head always does the trick; gets him back on track.

It isn’t until Thursday afternoon, with twenty minutes left of his break, that all of his carefully constructed self-restraint becomes entirely useless.

Jaehyun’s made a habit of leaving his phone on his desk during lunch, and he comes back to a missed call from Minyoung — which is not totally unforeseen; they’ve chatted on the phone a couple of times over the last few weeks, usually about very trivial matters. This call, too, could very well be about nothing.

That doesn’t stop him from freaking out a little, though.

Eventually, after another minute of weighing the pros and cons of calling her back while he’s still at work, Jaehyun decides that it might tip her off if he doesn’t. He’s probably better off talking to her and faking it till he makes it.

So he tells his co-workers he’s going to walk the meal off and calls her as soon as he’s out of the office building, chewing on his lower lip.

Minyoung is picking up before the first ring even ends.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite ghost,” she greets him, sarcasm heavy on her tongue.

“Hey. Sorry, I’m kind of… Walking outside? I didn’t want to call you from the office.”

“I mean.. unless you want bystanders to overhear your side of the conversation, it might be a good idea to find somewhere and sit down. Do you want random aunties in your business? I can wait.”

Jaehyun listens to her, like he always does, and soon finds himself at a park within walking distance. He sits down at a secluded bench and refuses to let himself experience any kind of déjà vu, even if it is a little unsettling, even if it is identical to the very one he shared with Changmin.

“Okay, I’m sitting down. No aunties in sight.”

“Now that I don’t have to worry about nosy eavesdroppers… There’s something up with Changmin.” Jaehyun’s stomach turns, suddenly unhappy with the japchae he had at lunch. “Don’t bother bullshitting me because I know you know. You two disappeared for God knows how long, then you come back, alone, clearly freaked out about something, and then Changmin goes ahead and ignores me for the whole week.”

Jaehyun cringes, rubbing at the side of his face. He’s never heard Minyoung sound so… serious before. Like she means business. She clearly cares a great deal for her brother, which cannot bode well for him.

“I know my brother, Jaehyun. Changminie might be a bit temperamental at times, but he doesn’t just disappear like that. He seriously made me go to voicemail. Like… ten times in a row! I had to drive over to his apartment after a twelve hour shift to confirm he wasn’t dead…”

Minyoung trails off, then, and Jaehyun has to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “He wasn’t, by the way, obviously, but wow was he in a mood. Like, I’m talking worse than the mood he was in after being told he needed to rest his ankle for a few more months. So!” She says, and her voice is still loud through the phone. “Let me reiterate. There’s something up with Changmin and I know you know what it is. Tell me. Now. Before I really get impatient and track you down, too.” She pauses for a second, and then adds: “I know where you live now. Just keep that in mind.”

Jaehyun lets out a deep exhale.

“Well, that doesn’t sound promising.”

“Uh, yeah. Don’t think it will be, sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair, and his next words leave a sour aftertaste on his tongue. “I think he’s upset with me, actually, but I’m not exactly sure if it’s appropriate to share why.”

“Appropriate?” Minyoung says.

“Yes?”

“Seriously, Jaehyun? Appropriate. You’re talking appropriateness with a person who grew up with him and watched him repeatedly wet the bed.”

“I don’t want to break his trust,” he says, lowly, a little embarrassed. “I kind of respect him too much to do that, so…”

The line goes quiet for a moment, but then he hears “Oh, fuck,” coming from Minyoung’s end of the line, and then again: “Oh, fuck, tell me you didn’t.”

“…What?”

“You like him,” Minyoung says, confidently. “You like him and one of you made a move on Saturday and now you’re both being fucking weird about it. Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t believe either of you.”

Jaehyun flinches and then freezes, going completely still as his insides turn to ice.

He has no idea how she figured it out so easily. Minyoung’s assumption is too on the nose, but she was clearly unsuccessful with Changmin, so how…?

“You’re quiet,” she says, and her voice sounds steady, almost soft. “That means I’m right. Aren’t I?”

He doesn’t answer. They’re both quiet for a long while, but then Minyoung continues, “I can hear you breathing, so I’m just going to assume you’re still listening to me. I’m also going to assume I’m right, and in that case… Would it be insensitive to say that I expected this to happen? Like, c’mon, Jaehyun… You were too obvious.”

The tips of his ears go red. She chuckles, like she sees him blushing through the phone.

That’s what he doesn’t understand: Minyoung doesn’t sound upset, not at all like she should be. She should be furious with Jaehyun. She should feel betrayed, deceived — taken advantage of, even, but she doesn’t. Instead, she only sounds amused by the whole ordeal, like there’s a punchline Jaehyun is missing.

He gets a little in his head there, but she’s still talking: “The production team might’ve called whatever you two have going on a ‘bromance’,” she laughs again, even louder, “but I know chemistry when I see it. You were on dates with me, but paid more attention to him. A little too much attention at times, but y’know, semantics.” There’s a little interference though the line, like she’s moving around, and her next words sound a little muffled. “Changminie was no better, though. He claimed to not like you, but never shut up about it, and never once tried to back out of hanging out together. He clearly enjoyed spending time you and none of it was adding up.” 

She hums. “I guess it does now, though.”

“Noona doesn’t… sound upset about any of this,” Jaehyun says, slowly, trying to make sense of the thoughts in his head. “I’m a bit confused, to be honest.”

“Wait,” Minyoung says. “Wait, wait, wait… You expected me to be hurt, is that it? Awww, Jaehyunie, you’re really too cute for your own good.” Jaehyun’s ears burn with embarrassment. “Was I giving off the wrong signals? I could’ve sworn we were doing the whole platonic thing.”

“We were,” he wheezes out, covering his face. “It was completely platonic, but…”

“But you didn’t know if I still wanted to follow through with getting married. Y’know. As bros.”

“It happens all the time,” Jaehyun says, defensively.

Minyoung snorts. “I know what a lavender marriage is, Jaehyun. I’m a lesbian in her thirties. I signed up for a matchmaking show. That’s kind of the whole point.”

The gears in his head speed up. “You’re…”

“You didn’t know,” she says, softly, almost phrased like a question. “Fuck, no wonder you were being so weird about everything." Jaehyun is on the verge of laughter. He cannot believe… “I really thought that was why we clicked, though? Like… we saw the closeted gay in each other or whatever — solidarity in action.”

He clears his throat. “That wouldn’t have been possible, since I wasn’t exactly closeted at the time. Nor gay, nor into men… at least, not to my knowledge.”

“Oh shit. This is all new to you? Even the thing with Changmin?”

Jaehyun makes a noise and hopes she can decipher it. “Yeah, okay, you’re in some deep shit. We need to fix this. I say we, but I really mean ‘me’, because you’re both useless little boys with no emotional intelligence to speak of.”

“Hey…” He starts to say, but she shushes him.

“You’re seriously in no position to disagree right now. Maybe I’ll reconsider it after you talk to my stupid brother.”

“I wasn’t going to disagree.”

“Good for you. I still don’t believe you.”

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips. He releases a long, shaky breath. “I did have a question, though.”

“Shoot.”

“We only have one segment left to film… Do we go ahead as planned? Or…”

“What, you don’t want to fake being interested in me anymore?”

He shakes his head, like she can see him. “I didn’t say that,” Jaehyun replies, quickly, straightening out his legs. “It’s just… For some reason, my mom got it in her head that we’d be engaged by November. I don’t want to give her false hope…”

“You don’t want to get engaged to me by November?!” She bursts into giggles. “I’m done, I promise. It’s so fun to mess with you — but we don’t have to have to go through with filming if you don’t want to. I say we do, though, and make it obvious that we work better as friends and can’t see our relationship developing beyond that.” She hums thoughtfully. “This is honestly really funny. You’re technically breaking up with me over phone.”

“Yeah, right,” Jaehyun replies. “If anyone’s getting dumped here, it’s me.”

“You kissed my younger brother, you whore. You deserve it.”

He bites his lip to hold in his laugh. “Who said anything about kissing?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Minyoung says, jokingly. “Seriously, though, isn’t your lunch break almost over?”

Jaehyun pulls the phone away from his ear and checks the time — his break ended five minutes ago. He isn’t particularly in a rush to get back, though. “I can stay for a few more minutes,” he says.

“Lying to get out of work?” She gasps, dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done with Lee Jaehyun?”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll head back. I didn’t want to talk to you, anyway.”

“No, wait—“ Minyoung is saying, just as Jaehyun hits the button to hang up. He laughs — loud, bewildered, overwhelmed — into the afternoon air. Jaehyun might still be unsure of what’s to come, but now he’s much less afraid to confront it.

He walks back into the office with a beaming smile on his face. He doesn’t notice until someone points it out.

*

Hours later, just as he’s about to leave the office, he gets a text from Minyoung — it’s an address.

In his gut, Jaehyun knows exactly where it leads to.

*

Jaehyun finds himself in front of Changmin’s apartment before he can think too much of it.

He has… somewhat of a plan in mind, though, the very bare bones of one.

Unfortunately, the first step is to actually knock, which he’s been having a bit of trouble with, loitering in front of the door for the past two minutes.

Each second that passes creates more opportunity for second-guessing; it’s one thing to show up at Changmin’s apartment on a complete whim, but it’s another to come face-to-face with him. To be wholly, truly honest and have a frank conversation like the grown adults they are. To be upfront about these feelings Jaehyun doesn’t even entirely understand yet. To offer himself up — mind, body and soul — without the guarantee that Changmin even wants that.

If Jaehyun is completely honest with himself, he has no idea if Changmin does.

Outside of the kiss, there really isn’t any concrete evidence that works his favour. He and Changmin have mostly been interacting with the looming knowledge that Jaehyun and Minyoung were a compatible match, going on date after date for a matchmaking show. They were a match that could have potentially been serious about their prospects together. And thus, there hasn't been any opportunity to explore their dynamic from a lens that wasn’t entirely platonic — no opportunity to flirt and tease without that preestablished distance. 

Jaehyun wants to have that opportunity. Very, very much so. The underlying problem is that Jaehyun is even more desperate to hear what Changmin wants.

Still deep in his thoughts, Jaehyun hears the sound of the door opening and instantly stiffens, his spine going ramrod straight. He hurries to put on a pleasant enough expression — something approachable, rather than the concentrated frown he’s wearing.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see Changmin on the other side, but his breath catches, just a little. Changmin’s beautiful. And not in the simple, casually observant, he’s pretty , kind of way. In a way that’s much more physical, present — consequential . Looking at Changmin is an experience, with features that are sharp, almost cutting — his cheekbones, jawline, smile … — but also soft and warm to the touch. His hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are puffy with sleep, and— Changmin’s beautiful.

Beautiful and clearly not too happy to see Jaehyun. His eyes widen in shock, before they quickly narrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, voice raw. “How are you?”

Changmin leans against the doorway, crossing his arms. He gives Jaehyun a slow, judgmental once-over. “You did not come here directly from work to ask me how I am.”

“That was an honest question.”

“Cut the shit,” he says, gruffly. “I really don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing today, but I’ll ask one more time… What are you doing here?”

“To see you,” Jaehyun blurts out, too fast, way too earnest, and Changmin raises both brows at him. “Honestly.”

His lips draw into a thin, irritated line. “You’ve seen me, so…” He widens his stance, so that he’s almost barricading himself in front of the door. “You might as well leave, unless… there’s anything else?”

Changmin’s defences are on full alert, doing all in his power to keep him out. Jaehyun needs to find a way in, a tiny nook to prod into. “Changmin,” he tries, and the intensity of his gaze threatens to turn him into cinders. He licks his lips. “Can we talk? Inside? Where I can be sure none of your neighbours are listening in?”

“Are you going to make it worth my while?” He asks, face still expressionless.

“Set a time limit,” Jaehyun says, playing into his hands. “Whatever you like. Just hear me out. If you still feel… negatively about me afterwards, I’ll go and won’t bother you again.”

The expression Jaehyun sees on Changmin’s face borders on physical pain, but then he opens his mouth to say. “Ten minutes,” and he’s quickly moving from the doorway to let Jaehyun in, and— 

This feels like a chance.

They end up awkwardly standing around Changmin’s tiny living room, both of them waiting for the other to crack, to speak first and fill the tense silence.

“I—“ Jaehyun starts, eyes trained on the bookshelf directly over Changmin’s shoulder.

In that same exact moment, Changmin puts his hands in his pockets, tilts his head, and says. “You have my full attention. Your ten minutes start now.”

“Last Saturday,” he says, refusing to beat around the bush. “You kissed me. You pulled me closer, put your hands on my face, leaned in and kissed me.”

“Objection. I didn’t touch your face.”

Jaehyun blinks. “What?”

“You’re misremembering details. I didn’t touch your face.”

You’re remembering details way too vividly not to care ,  Jaehyun wants to throw back at him. In an effort to not rock the boat, he doesn’t — he’s smiling very smugly, though, just internally.

“Okay,” he says. “You didn’t touch my face. But you did kiss me, and honestly… at first, it felt a bit out of nowhere— I don’t think it was entirely unprompted, anymore, but that’s beyond the point. The point is that you, Ji Changmin, kissed me, Lee Jaehyun, and I’d really like to know why.”

Changmin just stares at him.

“Please?” Jaehyun adds, lightheartedly, letting himself smile a little.

“You were giving me ‘kiss me’ eyes,” replies Changmin, evenly, and if he’s joking, his face doesn’t show it.

“‘Kiss me’ eyes,” he echoes, and he raises an eyebrow at him. “What does that entail, exactly?”

Changmin seems to carefully consider his words for a moment. “You were giving me mixed signals — have been giving me mixed signals, that was not the first time. You’ve been confusing me for months. That night, something in me just… I don’t know. Snapped. I had to do something.”

Jaehyun gapes at him, looking very unappealing for a moment, before he covers his face with both hands. That both answers a lot of the questions he had and brings him all the way back to the starting point.

He lowers his hands, chews on his lower lip, and then says: “I know this sounds very stupid, but… That means you wanted to kiss me. It wasn’t just some unexplainable spur of the moment thing. Right?”

“It was an unexplainable spur of the moment thing.”

Disappointment tastes foul and thick on Jaehyun’s tongue, but then Changmin continues. “It definitely wasn’t planned, but… Like I said, the mixed signals were constant.” He clears his throat. “I may have thought about it once or twice before.”

A flush blooms across Jaehyun’s neck. “That says something, doesn’t it.”

“No..?” Changmin scrunches his nose.

“You thought about kissing me more than once — then actually went through with it… That doesn’t say anything to you?”

“No,” he repeats, pushing his hair back. He’s starting to sound frustrated again. “It’s just a kiss.”

Jaehyun swallows down the sudden twist in his gut. “Right. It was just a kiss. Which explains why you completely disappeared on Minyoung and refused to explain yourself.”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” Changmin says, and then: “Is that what this is about? Noona being worried? She can fight her own battles.”

“I’m not here for Minyoung,” he replies, lowly. “I’m here to talk to you. About—”

“About the kiss on Saturday.”

“Yes, about the kiss, and not at all about Minyoung. Who I like very much, but only as a friend.”

A long, heavy pause.

Changmin’s face is doing… a lot of things — interesting things.

Jaehyun steps closer to him, then, slowly closing the distance between them, breaking the heavy silence. “Have we cleared that up?”

“Have you spoken to Minyoung-noona?” He asks, suddenly, and Jaehyun tilts his head at the urgency in his voice. “You don’t have feelings for her, but you’re still… what, leading her on for the show?

“You think I’m leading Minyoung on.”

Changmin stares at him for a few moments, eyes narrowed. “Does she know or not?”

“That we’ve kissed?”

“That you’re not interested in her,” he says, clenching his jaw. “Romantically.” 

Laughter threatens to erupt out of Jaehyun’s chest, and he has to quickly dig his nails into his palms to curb the urge. He doesn’t understand how he once found Changmin to be so difficult to read — it’s all in his face, now; every single one of his tells.

“I’ve been completely transparent with Minyoung,” Jaehyun says, softly, keeping his gaze locked on Changmin. “It’s all mutual. There are no hard feelings between us.”

Changmin doesn’t look all that convinced. “Really.”

Jaehyun gently knocks his shoe against Changmin’s. “Feel free to ask her yourself.” He grins, a little lopsided. “She gave me her blessing and everything.”

“Her blessing to do what, exactly?”

 “Hmmm,” he says coyly, and then shrugs. “I don’t know… Maybe you aren’t as much of a closed book as you think and she knew you wanted to kiss me.”

Changmin scoffs, but doesn’t break eye contact. “Stop projecting.”

A thoughtful hum, as Jaehyun moves even closer to Changmin, until they stand toe to toe. “So if I were to do that… To kiss you again. Since it’s all projection from my end, you wouldn’t kiss back. Do I have that right?”

“Why would you do that?” He asks, flatly.

“Why not?”

“We don’t need a repeat. It was just a kiss. A single moment of confusion.”

“Consider this an experiment, then. For very scientific reasons,” Jaehyun says, reaching out to rest a hand on his neck. He gently taps a thumb against Changmin’s Adam’s apple and watches intently as his pulse immediately jolts — Changmin’s heart is racing. 

Jaehyun grins, self-satisfied, but doesn’t bring attention to it. “I’d like to kiss you. Yes or no?”

“Less than two minutes left on the clock,” Changmin says, even as he suspiciously leans closer, even as he has a handful of Jaehyun’s dress shirt in his grasp. He weighs his next words for a few seconds, looking between Jaehyun’s eyes, but then— “I… Yes. Okay. Whatever—”

Jaehyun can’t help but press a quick kiss to the corner of his plush mouth. “Very enthusiastic,” he says, with a mocking grin, as he’s pulling back.

Changmin gives him his most exasperated, nastiest look yet, but then he’s dragging Jaehyun down to seal their mouths together properly.

After that, he loses track of how long he kisses Changmin for. Every kiss is deep and slow and lingering — thorough. He finds himself lost in the warm heat of Changmin’s mouth, in the devastating sounds he’s able to drag from his throat, in the way he bites, not particularly gently, at Jaehyun’s lower lip — in the way that this is, in its essence, as much of a confrontation as anything and everything with Changmin can be.

“We should— we should stop,” Changmin pants against Jaehyun’s cheek, one of his hands still clenched in Jaehyun’s hair. “I think you’ve made your point.”

“Alright,” Jaehyun says, putting a respectful amount of distance between them. He pauses, and then says. “You’re very intense, has anyone ever told you that?”

Changmin perches himself on the arm of the sofa. His hair is even worse off now, flyaways everywhere. “Okay,” he says, running his hands over his face. Instead of answering Jaehyun, he tells him: “I’m going to be very candid with you right now. Refrain from commenting until I’m done.”

“Sure,” replies Jaehyun, following Changmin’s lead and sitting on the other side of the sofa. “I’m all ears.”

He’s not really expecting the worst until Changmin’s mouth presses into a thin line. “This,” he stresses, waving a hand between them. “Cannot happen. Not for a while.”

Jaehyun cannot stand the sudden apprehension bubbling in his gut. He feels sick with it, but carefully schools his face into something much more neutral — unaffected.

“It’s just—“ He stops and shakes his head. “This is just way too… new for you. You’re still figuring things out.” He’s resolutely staring in front of him, hands clenching and unclenching against his knees. Jaehyun can't make out his expression from this angle, and he hates it. “You’ll need time and patience… And well — I’ll need space. A lot of it. I won’t exactly be pleasant company in the next few months. Winterreise rehearsals start soon and I’m prone to being a nightmare when I’m stressed. You won’t like me stressed—”

He’s rambling now, a mile a minute, burrowing himself deep inside a mental hole; somewhere Jaehyun cannot follow. “It’s not a total no,” Changmin says, much quieter. “It’s not. If it was, I would’ve told you that — probably at the door, right before I slammed it in your face.” He shakes his head again and smiles, a little self-deprecatingly. “Just… Give me six months.”

“Six months,” Jaehyun echoes, as evenly as he can, but his mouth still curls down into a frustrated frown. “That would bring us to March of next year.”

Changmin nods, so much tension in his neck and back. “You can get all of your shit together and I’ll get my shit together, and then…” He trails off, flicking his gaze back to Jaehyun. “And then, in March, we can have another conversation. Decide where we go from there.“ 

When Changmin has come to a decision, there’s really no deterring him. And Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s wrong, not necessarily, he’s just having a hard time processing. One minute, he was being kissed senseless — and the next, Changmin was reciting a two thousand word essay on why they wouldn’t work out.

It’s… a lot to deal with, especially when Jaehyun still feels the ghost of Changmin pressing up against him, sucking Jaehyun’s upper lip into his mouth, fingers digging into Jaehyun’s neck, nails biting into his scalp.

He’s so winded from the emotional whiplash — too disoriented to string two words together, too distracted by the frantic pounding of his heart. Even as Jaehyun’s being ushered out of Changmin’s apartment — kicked out, more like — he can’t manage to say anything to him.

Perhaps, this is how people feel when they’re unexpectedly dumped.

*

LEE FAMILY HOME (SONGDO, INCHEON) - DECEMBER 20

[JUNG EUN-KYUNG, 57, Matchmaker, sits with LEE JAE-HYUN, 31, Matched with Ji Minyoung.It’s been seven months since they’ve first met. This time, Jaehyun looks unbelievably comfortable in front of the camera.]

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “It’s been over six months since you first met Minyoung-ssi. Three months since we’ve last spoken. Catch us up. How is the match holding up?”

LEE JAE-HYUN: “Minyoung and I have never been closer. We’ve come to a lot of realizations, these couple of months, and I think we’re both better for it.”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: [Smiles] “Sounds like she was the perfect match.”

LEE JAE-HYUN: [Nods] “She was, yeah. That’s why it was very easy to come to the conclusion we did.”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “Oh? Don’t keep us waiting!”

LEE JAE-HYUN: “We’re much better off as friends.” [Matchmaker Jung’s eyes widen] “Which is good. Seriously. I’m very satisfied. I’ve gained a friend for life in Minyoung. A trusted companion. We might not fit romantically, but we’re just as compatible as you promised me.”

JUNG EUN-KYUNG: “That’s not the point.” [She sits straight, composes herself] “The show is called ‘Matchmaking Love’…”

LEE JAE-HYUN: “And I do love her. Just not romantically. Why shouldn’t that be a success story?”

*

The past three months of Jaehyun’s life have been extremely eventful.

Full of change, full of growth, full of learning — full of potential. Jaehyun wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was difficult, at first; taking a step back from Changmin when he was finally close enough to touch, like unexpectedly coming across your favourite dessert after years of searching, just to immediately be forced on a necessary strict diet and have to abstain.

In retrospect, though, he’s come to fully understand Changmin’s decision.

Three months ago, Jaehyun was in no place to throw himself face-first into a relationship — let alone one that would feel unfamiliar in so many ways. He needed that time to work on himself; to finally put himself and his own situation first, to finally prioritize the one person he’s been neglecting for so long.

It’s been.. well. It’s been very, very nice.

He’s had a few more candid conversations with Younghoon and Minyoung — who see the gay experience very differently from the other, but he appreciates their insight all the same.

Jaehyun is learning a lot. He doesn’t think his attraction to women was… ever entirely there, for one. Through the years, a number of his ex-girlfriends have complained about his lack of interest in them — Jaehyun has always been confused by this, considering that he thought he liked them well enough.

Now, he knows that well enough was just code for not romantically, and so much starts to fall into place.

To put it simply, it’s been quite the reflection period for him, and not only identity-wise. Jaehyun also takes vacation time for the first time in years — it’s only a week, but this is his first step to cultivating a more healthy balance between his personal and professional life.

Jaehyun wants to work less gruelling hours of overtime and volunteer his skills and expertise to the public interest cases he cares about, and realistically, this is how he needs to go about it.

By far, though, the most significant change is moving out of his parents house — which definitely was long overdue. It takes a few weeks for Jaehyun to convince himself it isn’t unfilial to put some boundaries between them, but the process moves fairly quickly after that.

(When he broke the news to his parents, they took it much better than he expected. His mother expressed some concerns — when did she not? — but ultimately thought it made sense for him to relocate closer to work. In her eyes, less commutes meant more productivity, and more productivity meant that Jaehyun could make partner much faster than she had initially anticipated.)

Less than a week later, Jaehyun finds a modest two bedroom apartment within a short drive of his office. Two weeks after that, he’s moving in with the help of a group of loved ones that should not, under any circumstances, coexist, but it’s expensive to hire movers and Jaehyun honestly has no room to complain — he can use all the help he can get.

He’s joined by his older sister Jae-eun, Minyoung, Younghoon and Youngkyun, and his work juniors, Haknyeon and Eric. Between the seven of them and their four cars, they get all of Jaehyun’s belongings over to the new apartment within a single trip.

“I think that was the last of it,” Eric says, with a satisfied stretch.

“There’s nothing left in our car either,” Younghoon adds.

Jaehyun leans against the barren living room wall. “We got everything over much faster than I was expecting,” he tells them, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I really owe you guys big time.” 

“I was promised pizza, so you can start there,” Minyoung says, throwing herself on top of the sofa — one of the few pieces of furniture in the apartment. “I say we stay safe and go for Domino’s. I’m really craving a slice of Super Supreme. Any objections?”

There aren’t any, and Minyoung claps her hands together, gleefully.

Soon, everyone is yelling out their own topping preferences and they settle on ordering a large Super Supreme, large Hawaiian, large pepperoni and honey garlic chicken wings via delivery. And because Jaehyun’s fridge is just as empty as the rest of the apartment, he’s democratically chosen — guilt-tripped — to take initiative as host and head on over to the nearby convenience store for drinks.

“You’re all ganging up on me,” Jaehyun says, accusingly, slipping his shoes back on. He’s mostly joking, though, and leaves the apartment without any other complaints.

The trip to the convenience store barely takes fifteen minutes — Jaehyun walks in, goes directly for the alcohol aisle, grabs a mix of everyone’s preferred beer and soju, adds a few soft drinks to his basket, and then checks out with a young cashier who looks like they’ve had better shifts.

It’s the short journey back to his apartment building that doesn’t go… exactly as planned.

There’s a Ji Changmin — the Ji Changmin — wandering just outside the door. The very same Ji Changmin Jaehyun hasn’t seen for about three months and wasn’t expecting to see for a little while longer.

That night, Changmin had said to give him six months.

Mouth dry, Jaehyun slowly walks up to him, careful not to get too close. “Changmin?”

He physically startles, not even having heard him approach. “Shit… Hi.”

“Not to sound like I’m not happy to see you,” Jaehyun bites the inside of his lip. “Because I think I’ve made my intentions clear months ago, but… What are you doing here?”

“Uh,” Changmin says, pushing his hair back. “Minyoung might’ve mentioned that you were moving in today.” Of course she did. Jaehyun wants to laugh, but he knows it’ll come out hysterical. “I wanted to… I don’t know— Wanted to see if you needed any help?”

“We’re actually just finished bringing up the last of the boxes—“

“Oh,” Changmin breathes out, interrupting him. Jaehyun doesn’t want to delude himself, but he almost sounds… really fucking disappointed, actually.

“But we’re just about to have dinner and there’s room for one more,” Jaehyun adds, smiling reassuringly. “You wanna come up?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to—”

Jaehyun kicks the side of his shoe. He’s acting strange, like Jaehyun is a stranger he needs to be unbearably polite to. Hell, Changmin was less polite when they were strangers. “C’mon… Really? You came all the way down here and you’re just going to leave?”

“I mean…” He finally looks up at Jaehyun, then, and the hesitance in his face is as clear as day, like he could ever burden Jaehyun with his presence. “I could hang out for a bit… If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, shrugging. “We ordered pizza — you still like Hawaiian, right?”

Changmin nods, a little helplessly, and Jaehyun smiles wider.

“Great. Let’s head up, then. You know a few of the others, but I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

The trip on the elevator is quiet — tense, filled with so much that’s unsaid between them. Jaehyun can’t even begin to unpack any of it with an audience, though. He has to find a way to keep Changmin around for a little longer; he has to stick around, even as everyone else calls it a night.

Before they walk up to the door, Jaehyun pulls on the sleeve of Changmin’s jacket, stopping him in place.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, very softly. “Let’s… Let’s talk, after. Don’t run off at the first opportunity.”

Changmin looks at him for a moment, his stare much steadier than it had been downstairs. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning now. “You sure you’re not mentally five years old?” — there he is.

Jaehyun hasn’t seen that dimple in three months. The force of wanting sloshes around in his stomach.

*

Introductions go as well as Jaehyun expects.

Changmin fits right in, like he’s been hauling boxes with them all day, and it’s very clear that anyone who is meeting him for the first time takes a quick liking to him. At one point, Jaehyun’s sister ambushes him en-route to the bathroom to tell him — in detail, she might be a little tipsy — just how much she likes Changmin. Complete with multiple winks and nudges.

All in all, it’s a great night; filled with drinking and greasy pizza and flowing conversation with close friends.

But instead of fully enjoying their company, Jaehyun’s eyes unconsciously trail after Changmin the entire time. He can’t help it. Changmin fills every corner and crevice of his mind. It was different, with such significant distance between them, but now… with him so close…

Jaehyun is so honed in on him and doesn’t want to look away. 

He’s taking his fill while he can — he wants to be so full of Changmin, to the point of drowning in him.

Sometime around the third hour mark, Changmin starts to slowly loosen up, the tension in his neck easing away. He’s barely drinking tonight, but his demeanour almost reminds Jaehyun of the times he has seen him a little inebriated.

It’s also around this time that Jaehyun’s other guests start to trickle out.

A very clingy, sleepy Younghoon and Youngkyun head home first, followed by both Haknyeon and Eric about twenty minutes afterwards. Minyoung sticks around until she has to leave for her overnight shift, and before Jaehyun knows it, he’s suddenly alone with Changmin and his sister, who has been napping on the sofa for the past hour and is a very deep sleeper.

He turns away from locking the door after Minyoung’s departure, and Changmin is right in front of him.

“Shit,” Jaehyun says, clutching his chest. “Where did you come from?”

“Your worst nightmare,” he replies, then quirks his lips into a teasing smile. He makes a grab for Jaehyun’s wrist, pulling him past the living room, where Jae-eun is still fast asleep, and into the adjacent balcony. 

Jaehyun doesn’t own any lounge chairs yet, so they end up leaning against the railing.

“Mind if I smoke?” Changmin asks,” already reaching a hand towards his pocket.

“What, do you need nicotine to survive a conversation with me?”

Changmin rolls his eyes. His hand is already back on the railing. “Have it your way.”

Jaehyun nudges him lightly, his upper arm against Changmin’s shoulder. “I was only joking, y’know.” Changmin makes a noise of acknowledgement, and then Jaehyun breathes out, staring into the Seoul skyline. “Why did you actually show up today?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I mean…” Jaehyun laughs, and it sounds strangled. “You remember the conversation we had. You said — and I quote — I need a little space.”

Changmin cringes, closes his eyes. “Yeah…”

“I’m getting mixed signals here,” he says, very softly, on the verge of being inaudible. “You didn’t want to jump into anything, especially with everything I had going on at the time, and I respect that, but…” Jaehyun swallows around the unexpected tightness in his throat. “It’s a little hard being around you and knowing.”

“Knowing what?” Changmin asks, just as quietly.

Jaehyun looks right at him, then. He looks Changmin in those dark, wild, blazing eyes and answers him, completely honestly; everything on the table. “Knowing that you feel something for me,” he admits, before swallowing again. “Knowing that you wanted to give it six months, but you’re here anyway, barely three months later. Knowing that I can finally read your every micro-expression — like right now, you look fucking terrified—“ He laughs, a little winded. “But you’re still trying so hard to shut me out.”

Changmin furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not—“

“I like how cagey you are,” Jaehyun says, turning his body towards Changmin. “I like that you get so defensive about the most unnecessary shit,” he moves a hand right next to Changmin’s, side by side on the railing. “But I want you to adjust to me. The same way I woke up one day completely adjusted to you.”

Changmin gives him a tired, miserable look. “You’ll get tired of me.”

“It’s been three months. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Are you?”

Jaehyun makes a confused face. “Am I, what?”

“Still here,” he says, blush colouring the side of his neck a bright pink. “Still interested.”

“Changmin,” Jaehyun says, slowly and deliberately. He resists the urge to laugh— Changmin is so… silly. Instead, he takes a chance and links their pinky fingers, just barely. “You’ve clearly been ignoring me for the past few minutes— Yes, what the hell— Yes. Feel free to ask me in another three months and my answer won’t change.”

Changmin avoids looking at Jaehyun, tightening their pinkies. “Maybe I changed my mind, then.”

He hums, and smiles, a little bashfully, at how their fingers curl together. “That sounds promising.”

“We don’t have to wait six months,” he tells Jaehyun, and his next exhale is harsh. “That was a stupid fucking idea, actually, and I have no idea why I thought of it.”

“You were scared,” Jaehyun teases.

Changmin gives him a terrifying look. He’s trying not to smile, but Jaehyun can see the corners of his mouth wobbling. It makes him grin. “I was not, but you definitely will be when I’m done with you.”

Jaehyun grabs ahold of his hoodie zipper, pulling him closer. “Scare me all you want, but save it for later, okay?” To say Jaehyun whines would be a huge disservice. He doesn’t whine, he complains — respectfully. “Right now, you need to kiss me before I combust and cease to exist.”

Changmin rolls his eyes again, but leans in closer, using their connected hands to tug Jaehyun in closer as well. His other hand falls to rest on Jaehyun’s hip. Changmin catches Jaehyun’s gaze again, and before Jaehyun knows it, he’s darting in close, close, close, pressing a quick kiss to his nose — on the mole Jaehyun knows is right on the bridge of it.

He pulls back almost immediately, but only enough to raise a cocky eyebrow. “Satisfied?”

“Nope,” Jaehyun replies, his heart in his throat, full to bursting. He lets himself be greedy, because he may very well be halfway in love with Changmin already. “Never.”

“You’ll need to earn it,” Changmin says, grinning at Jaehyun, lopsided and pretty. “Don’t expect any handouts from me.”

Jaehyun needs to write Matchmaker Jung a killer testimonial.

*

Notes:

sometimes you binge trashy reality tv over one night and it inspires 46k of nonsense... thank you for reading!