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Hyunjin didn’t mean to cry on Valentine’s Day. He actually hates the fact that he’s crying, because it’s just a confirmation of what everyone else thinks of him: he’s over dramatic and fantasizes way too much. On a second note, he’s fallen victim to a capitalist event too. Why should love matter more on the fourteenth of February? Love is all around, it’s—
A bunch of bullshit.
Hyunjin’s not over dramatic, he doesn’t fantasize way too much and he’s not a victim of stupid Valentine’s day. He deserves his boyfriend to fucking care, right?
The piano music in the restaurant stops in a series of elegant notes, followed by a general clapping that wakes Hyunjin up from his internal turmoil. He wipes his tears hastily and claps along with the other customers too, not daring to look around in case he might cross gazes with anyone around him while he’s being stood up.
It’s ten p.m and he’s still sitting alone at the table he booked for two, along with his flowers and a bottle of champagne he shouldn’t have drank on his own with just breadsticks in his stomach. In front of him lay full plates of food he couldn’t find in himself to eat in case Sungil would eventually show up, and now everything is cold and sad just like him.
He pitifully checks his phone again, even though he promised to himself he wouldn’t, and the lack of notifications mocks him. ‘See? You shouldn’t have looked!’ If that’s so, Hyunjin shouldn’t have stayed at the table after the tenth missed call of the night.
At first he got worried about Sungil’s health and checked frenetically online if there have been incidents in Seoul, and then he thought over texting one of Sungil’s snobby friends before he remembered that they don’t like him that much — Hyunjin’s a dancer, he’s wasting his life chasing a dream and blablabla. Hyunjin’s in a dancing company?? He has a job as a dance teacher and a monthly salary and he might not make the same figures as lawyers do, but why would they even care to make such a comparison?
Hyunjin’s growing frustrated again.
Now that the music has stopped, it’s definitely his cue to leave and go back home. He intercepts the first waiter that walks beside his table and asks for the bill, trying his best to not take to heart the way the waiter’s eyebrows curve into a sad expression.
The process is quick: Hyunjin gets his food to go, slides the money bills and the receipt under the empty champagne bottle and walks out with his head held high while everyone who had a table close to his does their worst in ignoring him.
“I feel so fucking stupid,” he mutters to himself as he lays his shoulders on the concrete wall outside the restaurant. When was the last time Sungil told him he loved him anyway? “Idiot.”
Idiot because he’s reaching again for his phone and opening the favorites section of his contacts list. He doubts Sungil deserves a spot between his mother and Chan, but Hyunjin dials his number anyway, because he is, in fact, an idiot.
The bleeping on the other side feels like a mockery, he shouldn’t have expected anything different from the other times he tried to reach for his boyfriend tonight. Hyunjin bites on a fingernail as he waits still.
“Yes, mom, don’t worry, the pay is good.”
The door opens next to Hyunjin, reminding him that he’s still outside the place where he just fled from. It’s only instinctual to look at his side to see who is getting out: someone in a similar position as him, phone to his ear but actually speaking to someone.
Formal clothes and wavy brown hair, the other man lays his back against the wall too, just one door separating him from Hyunjin. He sighs and tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can zip up his jacket. “No, I’m not lying to make you feel better,” he says with a little sigh at the end.
He doesn’t look like a waiter, unless he changed his clothes before leaving of course. The dress pants and fancy shoes don’t seem quite the ragged fit Hyunjin used to put on after his shift at the bar during his university days but, hey, to each its own. He could also have a date after his shift. Lucky. Hopefully he doesn’t get stood up.
“Uhm, hello?”
Hyunjin nearly drops his phone when he realizes that it’s not beeping in his ear anymore. Sungil picked up.
Hyunjin turns his head to the other side, ashamed of himself that someone else might hear him being pathetic. “Sungil-a, where are you?”
“I’m sorry, who is…” Blood freezes in Hyunjin’s veins when he realizes that he’s not listening to Sungil’s voice. “Ah, Hyunjin-a! Shit, you had plans? Sungil, ya! Turn that pc off and come over here!” Jaejin’s voice erupts into a little laugh, like Hyunjin’s boyfriend forgetting their plans is the funniest thing ever. Hyunjin has never felt more humiliated than tonight, the last thing he needed was Sungil’s best friend laughing at him. Again.
“You know what?” Hyunjin bites his tongue but it’s not enough to hold back his words. “I’m done, tell Sungil that he’s single. He can go find someone else to disappoint.”
Hyunjin hangs up without even hearing an answer, he owes a bit of pity to himself too. Hearing whatever might come out from Jaejin’s mouth would be self torture at this point, he deserves silence after finding out that his own boyfriend is out with somebody else on Valentine’s night. While they had plans.
When he looks back to his side, the other man is still there, mumbling a bunch of ‘yes’ and ‘hum’ into the line as he’s clearly holding back from saying what he actually thinks. It’s written all over his face and his sharp features: foxy eyes, high cheekbones, lips pursuing in the expression of a man that wants to hang up too but can’t and is desperately waiting for the conversation to fade on the other end.
They cross gazes, it’s quite sweet and not humiliating and pitiful at all in the way the man offers Hyunjin an awkward smile of acknowledgement. He’s cute, adorable even.
“Yes, mom, yes,” he nods again as if he could be seen by his mother, looking away. “No, I don’t have a date, I—” His cheeks turn bright pink and that’s Hyunjin’s sign to leave to not enhance his embarrassment.
Hyunjin zips up his jacket and starts heading back to his place. Thankfully he didn’t book a restaurant too far away, so he won’t have to call a cab or get on the subway — he tries to scratch out from his brain the fact that he did it in hope that Sungil would’ve spent the night at his place, cuddling under the bedsheets and talking over nothing like they used to at the start of their relationship. Ah, Hyunjin’s a fool for still holding onto a time that is now far away from the present.
“Hey.”
A hand stops on Hyunjin’s shoulder, making him turn around instinctively at the touch. It’s the guy that was on the phone before, a shy expression on his perfectly carved face.
“You’re forgetting this,” he says, lifting the paper bag that Hyunjin did in fact forget beside the door.
Hyunjin accepts it, a bit ashamed of having forgotten it. “Oh, thank you,” he says with a light bow. When his gaze comes back up, a thought comes up in his head, curiosity and champagne bubbles popping. “Did you serve my table?”
“Uh?” The man tilts his head to the side in confusion and then chuckles lightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh no, I’m the pianist,” he explains, “but I did— uhm— oh, this is inappropriate, forget about it.”
He waves his hands as if the gesture could erase the start of his unfinished sentence, fingers pretty and long and cheeks all blushy. A pianist, it fits.
“What?”
“Saw… you?”
The man answers with a slight cringe on his lips. It makes Hyunjin laugh softly instead of feeling pathetic, like the sweet sound of his voice is erasing everything sour, even the dread of being stood up on Valentine’s day by his own boyf— ex, Sungil’s now Hyunjin’s ex.
“That’s okay,” Hyunjin reassures the man before his cheeks will catch on fire. “Thank you for this,” he says, lifting the bag slightly, “can’t forget my uneaten meal.”
Foxy eyes flee away from Hyunjin’s own in a clear uncertainty whether he can laugh along with Hyunjin or not. His gaze is very different from anyone Hyunjin's ever met so far, different from Sungil.
“Have you eaten?”
The words come out of Hyunjin’s mouth before he can decide if it’s a good idea or not to propose such a thing to a stranger. He knows Chan would worry sick if he only had any idea of Hyunjin's next sentence.
Stranger danger, or something similar.
“I could use some company.”
Yang Jeongin has a very pretty name, especially when it falls off his pouty lips way too long into their walk. It’s Hyunjin’s fault, honestly, he should’ve asked earlier, or even introduced himself.
To his defense, he’s had a rough night.
To Jeongin’s defense, he’s had a rough night too.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” Hyunjin giggles back when Jeongin asks him for his name shyly. “I’m twenty fiv— oh, here we are, sorry." He was so immersed in his new night companion that he almost missed the entrance to his apartment building. He hops towards it, still high on the tipsy feeling of champagne and giggles when Jeongin has to jog to reach him.
Jeongin is a pianist, majored in music just a couple of months ago. He’s from Busan, has had the same roommates since his first day of university and his parents were always heavily against his choice in career path, hence the phone call Hyunjin had the chance to partially listen to earlier. He’s single, tired and upset – just as much as Hyunjin is.
“Okay, I think you’re safe being alone now.”
Jeongin stops on the threshold of the building, Hyunjin feels slightly betrayed. What does he mean?
Hyunjin turns to look at him. “Uhm?”
Jeongin takes a step back and shyly escapes eye contact. “I saw you drink a whole bottle on your own, I just wanted you to get home safe, that’s it. Good night, Hyunjin-ssi.”
In any other occasion it would be very sweet, and kind, and gentle, but Hyunjin’s now tipsy and upset and he’s just broken up and— fuck, he just needs a friend. Anyone.
“Okay,” he mumbles, defeated. It doesn’t matter. Jeongin’s a stranger, it doesn’t—
Oh.
Hyunjin quickly wipes the tear that falls down his cheek, he was bound to cry again at some point. God, he’s miserable.
“Wait, hey, hey.” Jeongin’s eyes widen as he takes a step closer, hands left still in the air as if he’s uncertain whether he can touch Hyunjin or not. “Don’t…”
“Ah, don’t look at me.” Hyunjin turns around, diving his face in his hands. This is definitely his worst night of the year and it’s just February. “You can go,” he mumbles.
“I— I have tissues,” Jeongin says hurriedly and with a slight panic in his voice. There’s some rustling and Hyunjin can’t help but glance back, eyes falling on Jeongin searching in his satchel bag while talking to himself. “Where are they…”
Jeongin’s ears are blushing red, poking through his dark brown hair. The light at the entrance of the building shines above him highlighting some orangey undertones, making Hyunjin wonder if it’s natural or the residue of an old hair dye. Jeongin takes out a bunch of papers out of his bag and tucks them under his arm as he keeps on searching, like it’s vital for him to find some tissues so Hyunjin can wipe his pathetic tears. A sweet angel helping a tipsy fool.
“It’s okay,” Hyunjin chuckles and wipes his tears with his sleeve. “I’m all over the place tonight, don’t worry.” He’ll cry later in the privacy of his apartment, he can’t bother a stranger any further.
Jeongin doesn’t look up, busy trying to hold way too many things in his hand. A glasses case, wired headphones, wallet, a pen, all held precariously while he keeps on searching. “Ah, wait!”
He whips his head up with a smile on his lips and dimples poking his cheeks. He looks proud of himself while holding up a packet of tissues, shining brighter than the light above him. It lasts around three seconds before he seems to remember the situation he’s in.
“Here,” he says, offering the tissues to Hyunjin.
Just as Hyunjin accepts them — he could never refuse after seeing such contagious joy — all the other things Jeongin was holding slip out of his fingers. They clash on the floor in a mild commotion of sounds along with Jeongin’s surprised gasp.
Hyunjin holds back a laugh to not put salt into a wound and crouches down to help Jeongin pick up his things. It’s quite absurd how Hyunjin's navigating through sadness and frustration and this little tingly feeling of entertainment and something more scratching his hollow chest. He glances at Jeongin and notices the makeup covering his dark circles, a faint layer that’s more visible up close. And then there’s the slight rough texture of Jeongin’s chapped lips, probably bitten way too often, and the crease between his brows. Hyunjin’s interest is oddly piqued.
“Sorry,” Jeongin apologizes for no reason as he accepts the pen and the headphones from Hyunjin. He shoves them in his bag as he straightens up and sighs.
Words stop on the tip of Hyunjin’s tongue again, because he knows that asking Jeongin to eat together once more after being refused right on his doorstep would be insistent. Somewhere else in his mind he still hears Chan’s voice telling him that this is his chance to take the safest choice of going up to his apartment and not letting a stranger in. ‘What if he’s a serial killer?’ jokes Jisung, while Minho giggles and pretends to attack him.
“What’s in that bag, exactly?”
Jeongin’s voice swats away Hyunjin’s friend’s voices from his mind.
“Steak and side dishes,” Hyunjin answers, trying to hold back the feeling of the spark lighting up in his chest. “And strawberries and whipped cream cake.”
“Ah, that’s good,” Jeongin mumbles more to himself than to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin waits patiently, he doesn’t want to put pressure on Jeongin, this is his chance to make a choice too. Ignore stranger danger or leave? He has bid goodnight to Hyunjin already, but he could always take it back.
Hyunjin really doesn’t want to be alone tonight, and he can’t disturb any of his friends from their dates.
“Okay, alright,” Jeongin says, “I love strawberries and steak.”
“Great!” Hyunjin exclaims, regaining a bit of his energy back. He’s not going to eat on his own after all.
The tissues that Jeongin gave him are quite useless as Hyunjin already wiped his face with his sleeves, but he still uses one to tap his cheeks as they enter the elevator. He’s going to reheat everything, they will chat over food and complain about their lives a bit and more in detail than they already did on their walk, and Hyunjin will go to bed with a less heavy heart. Pay Jeongin a taxi, for sure.
By his side, Jeongin fiddles with the strap of his bag as he types something on his phone. Hyunjin glances quickly, just because he’s curious but doesn’t want to be nosey. A little snort threatens to escape him when he notices that Jeongin’s sending his location to someone in chat, probably a friend — totally understandable.
Hyunjin is not informing his friends that he’s alone with a stranger only because he doesn’t want to face the ‘Sungil treated me badly again’ conversation with them just yet. It’ll be a worry for tomorrow. He’ll get a crushing hug from Changbin and that puppy kicked look Chan’s so good at and Minho and Jisung will get him food. Tonight he needs— he’s not sure, actually. Jeongin? A complete stranger?
“It’s a bit small,” Hyunjin prefaces as he lets Jeongin inside his apartment, all lights out except the one at the entrance. “It’s a studio apartment.”
“That’s fine,” Jeongin reassures him, toeing off his shoes.
He follows Hyunjin quietly to the kitchenette after leaving his bag and jacket at the entrance. The way he looks around is cute, foxy eyes scanning everything he passes by: paintings, photos, dried flowers hanging on the wall on top of Hyunjin’s desk. It’s a cramped space, but it’s Hyunjin’s, his soul sticking to every inch of the walls and pavements.
Sungil and his friends turned their noses up at Hyunjin’s place, at his will to stay here even if he could afford more. But Hyunjin doesn’t want a big impersonal apartment somewhere in Gangnam, he wants a home.
Ugh. Anyway.
“Do you think I can microwave the steak?” He asks, leaning against the counter and looking at Jeongin.
Jeongin turns to look at him too, leaving behind the wandering gaze he had while staring at Hyunjin’s painting. “Maybe just a little bit?” He guesses. He comes closer to take a look at the open food container and shrugs. “I think? I don’t cook much.”
On any other occasion Hyunjin would’ve texted Minho or Chan, but right now his only option is his own intuition, and so microwave it is. He sets just thirty seconds on the timer and starts putting the cutlery on the table. A bottle of water, one of soju, beer. What does Jeongin drink?
“I think you should stick to water,” Jeongin says when Hyunjin sets the beer can on the table.
“I just broke up.”
“Exactly,” Jeongin chuckles, picking up the bottle and putting it down on the counter and away from Hyunjin. He gets the soju too. “A hangover will make it worse.”
Hyunjin narrows his eyes at him but it’s ineffective as Jeongin laughs before Hyunjin can come up with any good remarks or excuses. It’s a nice sound, airy and giggly, like Jeongin’s entertainment tickles all the right spots and doesn’t allow him to be even a tiny bit poised.
“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongin shakes his hands as he apologizes, “it’s so clear you have no counter argument.”
Hyunjin lets out a little gasp. “I do!”
“Yeah?”
Somehow, bantering with Jeongin is fun. It’s the glint in his eyes and the way the corner of his lips quirks up and the tilt of his head. Jeongin’s fun.
“Whatever, you wouldn’t understand,” Hyunjin dismisses him just to get a reaction. He sits at the table and Jeongin follows right after, taking the seat opposite to him.
“I got broken up with before,” Jeongin says.
It’s clear he’s waiting for Hyunjin to cut the meat, fiddling with his chopsticks. Hyunjin can’t take his eyes away from the way Jeongin’s fingers move clumsily. However, he has to lift his gaze if he wants to eat.
“And got shitfaced after?” Hyunjin asks.
To his question, Jeongin doesn’t answer. He simply sighs and gives up, leaning back against the chair and watching Hyunjin cutting the meat into slices.
“He must be a pretty stupid guy,” he says after a couple of seconds of silence. When Hyunjin looks up at him, Jeongin looks down instead, his cheeks are flushed again, or probably more than before — Hyunjin isn’t sure they’ve ever stopped blushing, actually. “He’s not worth a hangover.”
Hyunjin finds himself smiling. “Yeah, he’s not worth it.”
They chat over food, finishing bite after bite the two servings of dinner that Hyunjin has brought back home with shame. Now the feeling is gone, replaced just by disappointment and the tingly feeling of laughing with a stranger over things that would make Hyunjin cry on any other occasion. Without Jeongin he would’ve probably cried alone until falling asleep, a man who stood him up doesn’t deserve his tears.
Jeongin offers to do the dishes while Hyunjin books a cab on his phone for Jeongin to get back home. He was nice company, sweet. Hyunjin isn’t sure he wants to be alone even after having had dinner, but he’s not up to letting a stranger here all night. He might regret it tomorrow morning when he’ll wake up with the need to bathe in self pity on his couch all day while waiting for a more appropriate time to update his friends.
“Your cab is almost here,” he informs Jeongin, putting down his phone on the counter.
“Oh, thank you.”
Jeongin has an aura Hyunjin has never seen before in anyone, one that makes Hyunjin want to see him again in a happier context. He dries his hands on Hyunjin’s hand towel after having washed Hyunjin’s cutlery and Sungil should’ve been in his place, but Jeongin’s presence is more reassuring, less stressful. Maybe Hyunjin is way more angry at Sungil than he thought.
In the silence of Hyunjin’s studio apartment, the bell at the door suddenly rings. Anger or not, disappointment, sadness, they all get showered away by a contradicting wave of hope. Hyunjin’s first thought is Sungil, always. What a stupid mind he has, Hyunjin should swap his brain with a better one.
But it’s one a.m now, it can’t be anyone else, right? Maybe he’s here to apologize with a proper explanation why he was with Jaejin playing pc games rather than with his own boyfriend on Valentine’s night.
Is there an actual reason that could ease Hyunjin’s heart?
The ring turns into two, three, until they turn into knocks.
“Want me to open?” Jeongin proposes, worried.
Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, it’s okay,” he says, heading towards the door.
He swings it open like ripping a bandaid only to find himself facing Changbin.
“Hyunjin-a!” He cries out loud, wrapping his toned arms around him. He smells of whiskey and somehow also of chocolate and Hyunjin has to take a step back to not fall under his dead weight.
Hyunjin intercepts Jeongin’s gaze and pats Changbin’s wavy hair gently. “Changbin—a.” Jeongin’s tensed shoulders deflate when he doesn’t hear Sungil’s name. “Weren’t you supposed to be on a date?”
At the mention of it, Changbin hugs Hyunjin even tighter, hiding his face in his shoulder and letting out a sob. Oh dear.
“Okay, okay,” Hyunjin hushes him softly. He waves a hand at Jeongin to tell him not to worry and Jeongin stifles a little laugh into the palm of his own hand as he looks at Hyunjin with knowing eyes. ‘This would’ve been you if I’d let you drink more.’ “Let’s get you sober first.”
Changbin’s a professional boxer, strong, disciplined, confident, it’s not common to see him like this, so Hyunjin can only assume he has had a worse night than him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbles incoherently, sounds to which Hyunjin can only coo at.
“Was it Chaeyeon?” Hyunjin tries to guess from the long list of Changbin’s flings. Tonight, he kept his date a secret with a smirk on his face — who could’ve possibly brought him to drunk tears?
Changbin shakes his head in Hyunjin’s neck as a no, until a sound distracts him, making him lift his head up. Right in the kitchen, Jeongin has just bumped against the table making the glasses on it rattle, a guilty and pained grimace on his lips as his eyes meet Hyunjin's again.
“Who’s that?”
“No one,” Hyunjin frets. “A friend,” he corrects himself quickly right after, since his first answer felt rude. Jeongin isn’t a stranger anymore, and maybe not even a friend but… something close to that? If he’s ever willing to talk to Hyunjin ever again after everything.
“Yeah, hi,” Jeongin says, raising a hand to greet Changbin. “Nice to meet you.”
Changbin blinks at him, tears dripping from his wet eyelashes, and then looks up at Hyunjin. “Where’s that asshole?”
“Ah, hyung, not right now,” Hyunjin sighs, because if Changbin hates Sungil on a normal day, he can't imagine how bad it can get on Valentine’s night while drunk and sad.
Why does Hyunjin still want Changbin to like Sungil even after everything? Love is so contradicting.
“Okay, I should go,” Jeongin mumbles quickly, picking up his jacket. “My cab should be here.”
He’s flushed all over as he dances around them at the entrance to reach for the door, all rosy cheeks and a shy smile. Despite the awkwardness he still stops before leaving to greet Hyunjin goodbye and goodnight and thank him for the food and the company, as if Hyunjin shouldn’t be the one to thank him instead.
He’s soon out of sight, leaving Hyunjin staring at his door and still holding Changbin in his arms in a now weird distanced hug.
Changbin takes a step back to look at the now closed door before looking at Hyunjin again. “Seriously, Hyu, who’s that?”
→♡ɞ
Hyunjin closes his locker and heads out of the changing room into the dark corridor. All lights out, the place would usually scare him if it weren’t that Hyunjin knows these walls inch by inch.
“I’m not joking,” he chuckles with his phone still tucked between his shoulder and his ear. He struggles to zip up his jacket until a more decisive tug pulls the jammed zipper all the way up. “We made a pact.”
On the other side of the line echoes an airy sweet laugh. “To swear off men?”
“And women,” Hyunjin clarifies, “Changbinnie hyung dates women too.”
“So you’re both on a dating ban for the rest of the year?”
There’s a quip of curiosity in the question that tickles Hyunjin’s senses just right. He stalls as he locks the door of the dance studio and stores the keys safely in his bag again.
“Mhmh,” he hums, still thinking however about kisses under the covers and holding hands on night walks.
Even though Hyunjin has blocked Sungil everywhere — under Minho’s supervision so he could check that Hyunjin actually did it — not hearing from him or not seeing his face don’t erase months of feelings. In some twisted way, Hyunjin still cares, even though it’s been two weeks already since the Valentine’s day fiasco and Sungil could’ve knocked on his door the moment Hyunjin didn’t answer his calls — did he even try to call?
He wasn’t always sweet with Hyunjin, especially as time passed by it was like his love faded as quickly as it engulfed Hyunjin during the first stages of their relationship. But oh if those months were good, Hyunjin still hasn’t forgotten even a mere seconds of them, probably the reason why he kept on hoping even when things got worse and worse.
“Ten months and a half to go,” Jeongin says with a fake encouraging tone. Hyunjin can imagine him lifting his fist to cheer on him, ugh.
They’ve been chatting lately, just a couple of texts, calls on random nights, one video call when Hyunjin was painting and Jeongin was busy cleaning his room, just existing together. Hyunjin doesn’t call any of his friends this often, but he won’t dwell on that.
“I can survive that.”
“I believe in you.” Jeongin chuckles, betraying his sentence with the sound of his soft laugh.
Outside, the last winter cold is ruthless. Hyunjin raises his scarf up to his nose and heads over to the bus stop, hoping the heated bench is working. He sits on it and sighs at the contact with the warm surface. He's so thankful for technology sometimes. Otherwise he would be colder right now, or he wouldn’t be talking with Jeongin.
“What are you doing?” He asks, curious.
Wherever Jeongin is right now, it’s a noisy place filled with people. Hyunjin can hear the bass boosted coming from afar and the constant chattering in the background.
“I’m outside a club,” he answers casually, even though from his tone Hyunjin can tell it’s not a very common occurrence, a tinge of awkwardness lying under his words. “My roommate is on a non-dating ban.”
Hyunjin laughs at the lame pun and cuddles a bit more into his scarf. He feels the words sitting on his tongue and does his best to not pronounce them. Inviting Jeongin over would definitely be a mistake.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
Jeongin chuckles. “What are you doing right now?” He asks, a little ‘Wasn’t my question obvious?’ sitting in the way he sighs dramatically, like Hyunjin exhausted him just for dragging the answer further. But it’s cute coming from Jeongin, there’s no real animosity. He’s having fun instead at pulling Hyunjin’s strings just right.
Last night, Jisung told Hyunjin that maybe what he needs in this moment of his life is something casual, just mutual attraction. Then Minho slapped him in the nape and reprimanded him for putting such ideas into Hyunjin’s brain.
‘Our Hyune’s delicate,’ he said.
Is he?
Probably.
“I’m waiting at the bus stop,” Hyunjin answers. “It has a heated bench and there’s a display with the scheduled buses and all.”
“Fancy.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Going home?”
Hyunjin bites into his bottom lip. Don’t invite Jeongin over.
“Mhmh, I taught a dance class,” he answers. Simple, easy. Of course he adds more. “It was hip hop. I usually do modern dance, but my friend Minho needed someone to cover his shift at the studio and I’m very kind, you know.”
Jeongin laughs a little and hums along Hyunjin’s words. “That’s very generous of you.”
You should come pick me up.
“You should go back to your clubbing,” Hyunjin says, pushing back his first thought. It must be Jisung’s fault for sure, he put the idea into Hyunjin’s brain talking about finding someone to have a casual simple connection. Minho should’ve been faster in shutting him up.
“I’m fine here,” Jeongin says. Hyunjin can imagine the blush on his cheeks as he speaks, or that little shy expression when Jeongin bites his lip and looks away. It’s enough for him to not insist on Jeongin going back to his friends and to stay on the phone with him even as he gets on the bus.
They talk over work, over the food they’ve had today and the possibility of raining tomorrow, any topic that can come to their mind, flowing from one subject to another. It’s easy, Jeongin’s cute and fun and actually listens to Hyunjin’s words, pays attention and remembers names and places and hobbies, like Hyunjin’s words matter. Like a friend, Hyunjin has to remind himself.
“Are you home?” Jeongin asks in between a conversation about drinking and one about their favorite songs at the moment.
Hyunjin is now in front of his apartment door, half an hour into a call he can’t fathom to close, and gets in with a little energy in his steps that he usually doesn’t have so late at night. “Just got in,” he answers, slipping off his jacket. Wanna come over? “You can hang up now if you want.”
Scarf and shoes off, Hyunjin walks to his bathroom and puts his phone on speakers.
“Are you kicking me off the call?” Jeongin asks, teases instead of wavering. Well, he gets points for knowing exactly what to say to entertain Hyunjin, that’s sure.
“You can stay,” Hyunjin answers honestly. It wouldn’t be the first time he stays on the phone with Jeongin while he goes over daily tasks, he does this also with Chan sometimes since they’re always too busy to have a normal chat, so it’s casual and completely harmless. Yes. “I will go over my night routine though, enjoy the water noises.”
Just like every time Hyunjin pushes, Jeongin pulls. He huffs a chuckle and “Still better than the noise in the club,” says. Hyunjin wonders if he’s freezing outside the club or if he’s thoroughly covered to face the cold weather.
He asks him, eventually, after brushing his teeth and cleansing his face. Jeongin says yes, reassures him by listing all the layers of clothing he’s wearing like he’d win a prize for doing good, and then asks what moisturizer Hyunjin’s tapping over his skin. It’s a cozy night and a cozy conversation, it makes Hyunjin want to sink into a warm hug.
Dangerous.
Hyunjin sinks instead in his mattress and wraps himself into his bed covers. “I’m in bed.”
“I envy you,” Jeongin sighs.
“Come over then.” This time, the words slip. It must be because Hyunjin’s tired and his brain is malfunctioning and so is his common sense, or that his bed is cold and Jeongin feels warm.
Does Sungil feel cold in bed too?
Shit.
“Sorry, sorry, that was inappropriate, I— I have to go,” Hyunjin stutters fastly, suddenly feeling very guilty and aware of his words and actions — and, the worst part, his thoughts. “Good night, Jeonginnie.”
He hangs up with shaky fingers and throws his phone on the other side of the bed, heart beating fast.
→♡ɞ
Innie 🎹:
[file attachment. mov]
Does this song have potential?
Hyunjin hasn’t called or texted Jeongin in a couple of days, so seeing his name right now on his screen makes him both smile and want to curl into himself. He hugs his knees and clicks on the video, watching with attentive eyes Jeongin’s fingers floating over the keys of his piano, a beautiful melody filling his ears from the first second to the last.
Me:
i didn’t know you could sing too
Jeongin answers before Hyunjin can finish typing his second text. Hyunjin erases it and types something else instead, all in one text just to be safe in case Jeongin’s skilled fingers want to fire an answer again.
Innie 🎹:
Barely haha
Me:
don’t downplay it, you sing beautifully and the song has potential
Innie 🎹:
Alright alright
Thanks haha
I wanted the opinion of someone who likes music too
Hyunjin ponders over what to say next, a worry that has monopolized his last conversation with Jeongin too. He didn’t know what was on his mind that night, really, it must’ve been because he felt tired and lonely and Jeongin was sweet enough to keep him company again. Oh God, he’s terrible. Worse than Sungil or any of his mean friends.
Innie 🎹:
What have you been up to lately?
I played at a wedding and for school play
‘The usual’, Hyunjin should answer. He danced every day as usual, taught classes, had lunch with his friends, and reprimanded Changbin for breaking their dating ban so quickly.
Me:
i’ve made a tinder profile
He types instead, the app still open in the background. He was busy swiping left and right when Jeongin’s message popped up on top of his screen. It felt impersonal, not his style, but he can’t scratch Jisung’s suggestion from his brain no matter what, and he knows that the only way to stop thinking about it is to try and see for himself — he’s determined and curious just like that.
Innie 🎹:
The ban is going good I see haha
Found someone interesting?
Me:
bin betrayed me </3
maybe
idk if it’s for me
Innie 🎹:
How are you?
Like genuinely
Hyunjin changes position on the sofa, laying stomach down and tucking a pillow under his chest. There’s a scratch on the leather of the cushion, he feels it with the pad of his finger before answering Jeongin’s text, wondering if it was made by himself or a friend, or one who was something more in the past.
Me:
i keep thinking that there’s something wrong with me
relationship wise
Innie 🎹:
I kind of want to key your ex’s car
Me:
you’re welcome to do it i know the plate by memory
Innie 🎹:
Great send it rn
Hyunjin types in the first numbers just because the interaction is ripping a smile out of him and playing around with Jeongin is nice. Jeongin always knows which buttons to push to make Hyunjin feel lighter, and Hyunjin’s sure Jeongin is way too good and sweet to ever do something like that in real life, they’ll giggle and shit talk Sungil a bit more and that’ll be it.
The next texts come one after the other before Hyunjin can press send and share sensitive details with Jeongin.
Innie 🎹:
There’s nothing wrong with you, hyung
He was wrong for treating you badly when you cared
He should’ve cherished your feelings and break up with you if he wasn’t reciprocating anymore
It would’ve hurt less and that was shitty of him
Me:
i know
i just keep thinking
did he fall out of love because i did something wrong?
should i’ve done more?
Innie 🎹:
Sometimes people aren’t compatible enough for it to last
But there’s nothing wrong with you
Me:
you’ve known me for only three weeks
The last text is probably too direct and a bit impolite, but Hyunjin can’t help himself from not filtering his thoughts when he’s with Jeongin, like his presence even from afar is enough to stimulate every side of his being, even the ones Hyunjin usually holds back. Jeongin isn’t even pulling at anything right now, he just exists, gentle and cute in Hyunjin’s digital vicinity.
Innie 🎹:
I’ve been told I’m a very good judge of character ;)
Have you had dinner yet?
I could come over with food and rate your matches
Me:
what an honor!!
Innie 🎹:
I know!
Me:
i won’t reheat yesterday’s leftovers then
Hyunjin hugs the pillow closer to his chest and takes in a breath that feels light in contrast to the previous ones, heavy and feeling like a burden instead.
Innie 🎹:
I’m getting pizza!!
Tell me your favorite rn
Jeongin ends up calling Hyunjin in the end, listing Hyunjin all the pizzas available while he’s at the shop as if he’s the one trying to convince Hyunjin to buy and he’s selling them. He’s quite silly, it works on Hyunjin like a charm, who waits for Jeongin to arrive with a giddy feeling in his chest.
Jeongin insists on not hanging up even when he’s in the subway and he thinks it’s the most polite to stay quiet, so Hyunjin goes over his last days like he’s speaking on a podcast of one while Jeongin hums along. He tells him about the guy Changbin swears has shifted the axis of his world at a club the other night, and about the day he went to visit his parents and spent the afternoon with his dog Kkami at the park. Jeongin listens as always, and when he’s finally at the stop closest to Hyunjin’s apartment, it’s his turn to tell Hyunjin all the details he’s missed.
Hyunjin sets the kitchen table while Jeongin goes over a retelling of him almost knocking over the cake at the last wedding he played at, and between giggles and laughter Hyunjin looks down at his phone screen and reads the time. He didn’t even realize an hour has passed since his phone rang.
“I’ve got beer too,” it’s the first thing Jeongin says when Hyunjin opens the door for him.
He’s wrapped in a puffer jacket, a beanie and a scarf, only his mischievous gaze and the red tip of his nose uncovered for Hyunjin to look at. Strands of brown hair peak out of his beanie and curl at the sides prettily and it’s quite unfair how cute he can be.
Hyunjin lets him in and takes the food and drinks so Jeongin can start removing his layers inside Hyunjin’s heated up apartment. He hasn’t left these four walls all day, so the place is quite warm.
“Ah, this is nice,” Jeongin sighs as he starts hanging all his belongings at the entrance. He’s in sweatpants, a simple white shirt and a plaid shirt, fuzzy socks on. Did he really just jump out of his apartment to come meet Hyunjin?
Hyunjin sets everything on the table and glances down at the fox themed socks Jeongin’s wearing. “Those are cool.”
In an instant, the flush on Jeongin’s cheeks intensifies. “They’re a gift,” he sputters, heading to the table. “My friends and I have this joke going around about how everyone resembles an animal and all— it’s silly.”
He slumps on one of Hyunjin’s kitchen chairs and runs a hand through his hair, unknowingly unveiling his blushing ears. Hyunjin’s sure he has never met anyone who gave him this amount of cute aggression before, it’s not the first time he’s pondered about it since he has met Jeongin.
“What animal do you think I could be?” Hyunjin asks, sitting down on the chair opposite to Jeongin.
Jeongin stares him down, focused, and hums as he goes over Hyunjin’s features with attentive eyes.
“A ferret.”
“Uh?” Hyunjin utters, more shocked by Jeongin’s confidence in his answer than the comparison. “Not even an ‘I think’?”
“No,” Jeongin answers, shaking his head and aiming for the pizza box to open it. “I’ve thought about it already in the past.”
“What?” Hyunjin bursts into a laugh, surprised. He aims for a beer instead, pushing the cap open and sliding it towards Jeongin.
Jeongin thanks him quickly and waits for Hyunjin to open one for himself too before leaning his beer over for them to clink the bottles together.
“To my baptism as a ferret, I guess,” Hyunjin says with a giggle still sneaking in between his words. Jeongin winks at him before chuckling too, embarrassed and shy.
The excuse Jeongin came over for gets almost forgotten, their conversation focusing instead on the traits Jeongin and his roommates focus on before assigning an animal to someone. Hyunjin thinks it makes sense by the time he’s done with his first beer, he starts tapping his hand on the table while begging Jeongin to show him his friends when he’s done with the second.
“Okay, okay,” Jeongin gives in, leaning closer and pushing the empty pizza box aside so he can slide his phone in the space between him and Hyunjin.
He opens his phone gallery and goes straight to the favorite folder, picking a group photo of himself with his friends. They’re all sitting on a beach towel, hair damp and smiles on their faces. It’s a sweet picture, Hyunjin damns himself for eyeing Jeongin’s body for the fraction of a second.
“So, in order,” Jeongin swerves Hyunjin's attention on the main topic, thankfully, “this is Seungmin, clearly a dog.”
“Of course,” Hyunjin plays along with a laugh.
“And Felix is the blonde one, he’s a chick or a cat, depending on whether he decides if he’s tired of being blonde for a couple of days and comes back home with box dye in his bag.”
“So I could be a different one if I dye my hair?”
Jeongin looks up at Hyunjin for a second, staring. “No,” he decrees. He pockets his phone right back in his sweatpants and leans back against the chair, taking a sip of his beer.
“You really are a fox,” Hyunjin accuses him.
Jeongin just shrugs his shoulders with a smirk on his lips, insufferably cute.
The kitchen clean up involves a lot of teasing and playing around even though they don’t have much to clean if not the table and a scissor. Jeongin insists on helping, but he almost knocks over a chair while fighting Hyunjin for the cleaning rug, an action that makes Hyunjin put him in a time out on the sofa.
Hyunjin hasn’t had friends over in a while, recently he has only ever headed over to their place. Changbin and Chan both have a big apartment with a nice big couch, and Minho and Jisung offer some really good food, Hyunjin has his reasons. But seeing someone in his space somehow makes it feel warmer than usual, more than Hyunjin has ever felt in here.
He quickly wipes the table and skips over to the sofa, sitting down next to Jeongin and poking his side. Jeongin squirms and tries to slap his hand away as his airy laugh fills the room.
“Are you going to do your job now?”
Jeongin rolls up his sleeves as if he’s going to face a difficult task and nods. “Show them to me.”
“Okay.”
Hyunjin looks for his phone where he left it somewhere in between the pillows before opening the door to Jeongin. He unlocks it and clicks on the app, his fingers suddenly feeling a bit clammy.
“I’ve never done this,” he says, opening the messages he received and still didn’t answer to. “Like, what do I say? How do people keep it casual?”
“Oh,” Jeongin looks up at Hyunjin, lips parted like he wants to say something. Then, quietly, “You’re not doing this to date?” He asks.
Hyunjin feels his own cheeks heating up. He thought it was implicit, like an unspoken rule of dating apps, is it not?
“Hyung.” Jeongin bursts into a chuckle. “You should’ve gotten Grindr then.”
“What?”
“Are you joking?”
“What are you talking about,” Hyunjin says, exasperated, trying to get his phone back.
Jeongin startles and chokes on his own laugh, clumsy fingers dropping Hyunjin’s phone right on his lap. “Hyung, you want to hook up, it’s fine, say it out loud.”
“You’re so irreverent," Hyunjin sighs. He’s partially embarrassed and partially entertained, like it’s impossible for his mind and body to be mad at Jeongin.
It is a bit fun, maybe, under the layer of awkwardness and Hyunjin’s total lack of knowledge over what people do when they don’t go head over heels dreaming since day one, fantasizing and counting daisy petals and such. Does he love me or does he not? Sungil’s petal was the latter option, Hyunjin should’ve trusted his daisy.
“Are you not getting your phone anymore?” Jeongin asks.
Hyunjin looks down at where his phone fell right on top of Jeongin’s thighs, so close to his crotch, and grows even hotter. “Ah, just give it to me.”
“Here,” Jeongin giggles, giving it back to Hyunjin.
The latter safely hides it under a pillow and turns to look at Jeongin, words falling from his lips easily like they always do when they talk.
“I’ve never just hooked up with someone, so I don’t know where to start.”
Jeongin’s laugh dies down at Hyunjin’s sentence and his gaze softens. “Me neither, if it makes you feel less lonely.”
“Kind of,” Hyunjin admits. He scratches the cuticle of his thumb with his index finger and takes a little breath. “I’m scared of it being awkward.”
“Maybe you should meet someone in person first, could it help?” Jeongin tries like he always does, analyzing possibilities without judging Hyunjin and his issues. “Like go on a date the first time to see if you’re compatible?”
“But then there’ll be a date involved.”
Hyunjin isn’t ready for it, not when he still finds himself thinking about Sungil late at night.
Maybe he shouldn’t do this at all. He’s so confused.
Jeongin bites the inside of his cheek. “Or maybe you could go out to a club or something,” he proposes.
Hyunjin feels his own cheeks heating up just at the idea of approaching a stranger like that. But there’s a first to anything, right?
Noticing his hesitation, Jeongin bumps his arm playfully. “You’d be surprised by how many people are just okay with hooking up with no strings attached.”
“Would you?”
Hyunjin asks before he can regret it. He’d lie if he’d say that he doesn’t find Jeongin attractive, he’s pretty in a way only mythical creatures in old fantasy books and paintings are, the kind of beauty you don’t expect to see just outside a random restaurant. And he’s sweet, and kind, and Hyunjin feels comfortable around him. It wouldn’t be awkward, right?
Even right now Hyunjin feels comfortable, while Jeongin’s eyes widen a little as he realizes what Hyunjin’s asking. It feels different than the other night when Hyunjin asked him to come over, Hyunjin doesn’t feel out of place and Jeongin knows how he feels now. Fully. If he’s going to reject him, Hyunjin’s sure it won’t hurt and ruin their friendship.
“Now?” Jeongin simply asks. Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way his gaze falls to his lips and goes back up.
“Only if you… want to…” Hyunjin’s voice falters when Jeongin scoots closer and he feels it, a spark, a drop in his stomach. “If you feel—”
“I would.”
Their first kiss tastes of beer. Far from romantic and dreamy, yet it’s exactly what Hyunjin needed, to feel Jeongin’s soft lips pressed against his own and relax, leaving his worries aside. Hyunjin can feel everything: his own heartbeat skipping a beat, the warmth coming off Jeongin’s body and the way he takes in a breath when their lips collide. Jeongin’s essence, pure and simple and raw in his presence.
He rests his hands by the sides of Jeongin’s neck as he deepens the kiss and lets himself get dragged away by the feelings of butterflies storming in his belly. Sweet and delicious, Jeongin hums into the kiss, scooting impossibly closer, his body twisting like a sunflower turns towards its primary source of light.
“Awkward?” Jeongin checks, breath already cut short.
Hyunjin shakes his head no and “For you?” asks.
“At all.”
Hyunjin takes the chance to sneak his hands under the flannel shirt Jeongin’s wearing, and a smile spreads to his lips when Jeongin shimmies his shoulders a little as Hyunjin starts pushing the fabric down.
“Take it off,” Jeongin whispers against his lips. “Please.”
Hyunjin pecks his lips again and nods. “Of course.”
There’s no hesitation, no ‘what if i do this wrong’ in Hyunjin’s mind. Like their bodies are connected, Jeongin slides onto his lap just as Hyunjin moves his hands to feel the expanse of his thighs.
Jeongin looks down at Hyunjin with sharp foxy eyes, his lips bruised red and his cheeks flushed. “I prefer to bottom,” he says, to assess the situation. “Are you okay with that?”
Honestly, Hyunjin would’ve been up to anything.
“Yes, yes,” he answers, fingers digging into Jeongin’s sweatpants. When Jeongin grinds down instinctively, Hyunjin nearly chokes on his own breath. “More than okay.”
Sparks and bubbles pop behind Hyunjin’s eyelids when he tilts his head slightly up and Jeongin comes down to kiss him again, back arching and knees digging in the leather cushions of the sofa to find the right angle, the perfect rhythm to grind against Hyunjin’s growing erection.
“Fuck, feels nice,” Jeongin slurs over Hyunjin’s lips. His whole body feels on fire under Hyunjin’s fingertips. “I forgot how nice it felt.”
“Me too,” Hyunjin hums back. He gasps into Jeongin’s mouth when he angles himself just right to make Hyunjin feel his own length against his. Jeongin feels mind blowingly big, scalding even through the fabric of his sweats. “Can we take them off?”
It’s the only thing Hyunjin can think of.
See. He needs to—
“Yes, wait.” Jeongin starts pushing down his sweats and underwear from the hips, his fingers meeting Hyunjin's more hesitant ones to encourage him.
Jeongin’s as big as Hyunjin imagined, making him water at the mouth.
“Tell me what you like,” Hyunjin says, hurriedly, before his brain will malfunction.
Agonizingly slow, Jeongin’s fingers wrap around Hyunjin’s wrist to guide him. He pushes Hyunjin’s fingers around his cock and squeezes until a quiet moan leaves his lips and “Like this,” he says softly.
Hyunjin’s eyes focus down on where he’s touching Jeongin and he pumps him once, twice, three times, until he loses count and Jeongin drops his forehead on Hyunjin’s shoulder and his sounds start filling the room. He squirms and humps in Hyunjin’s lap with short moans falling off his mouth at every stroke, uncontrollable. Hyunjin feels like he’s holding the world in the palm of his hand.
“Do you like it?”
“Ah— of course I do, hyu— hyung, hyung, shit.” Jeongin shakes in his lap as Hyunjin picks up his speed. Sex forgotten, Hyunjin thinks he could be satisfied just like this, hearing Jeongin’s high pitched broken moans and knowing that he’s wanted, that Jeongin didn’t waste a second to kiss him, to fall on top of his lap.
“Do I keep going?” Hyunjin still checks when he feels Jeongin starting to twitch and his abdomen contracts. It’s Jeongin’s saying after all.
Hair tickles Hyunjin’s neck as Jeongin shakes his head no. “Let’s go to the bed,” he says a bit shyly. It kind of makes Hyunjin want to peck his lips again.
Jeongin raises on his feet on wobbly legs and tucks his cock right back into his sweatpants, teeth digging in his bottom lip and dark eyes dancing all over Hyunjin. He starts walking before Hyunjin can stand up, heading to the bed and lounging on it as if he owns the place and yet still timid, energy buzzing from his body, waiting.
Hyunjin looks at him for a second or two from afar and decides he couldn’t have made a better choice. Jeongin looks dreamy laying down on his bed, resting his weight on his elbows and his cheeks red like an apple Hyunjin could bite into.
He stands up and heads to his nightstand to slide the last drawer open. Hyunjin doesn’t even remember the last time he picked a condom from it and not just his lube, but pushes all sad miserable thoughts aside to instead get a spot between Jeongin’s open thighs.
Fingers hooked again under the band of Jeongin’s underwear, this time Hyunjin pulls everything down, chuckling when Jeongin’s fuzzy socks fly to the floor by the strength of his pull. Jeongin laughs too and feels his own side with his hand, lifting his white t-shirt up his belly and letting his cock rest on his abs instead than on the cotton.
“Your turn,” he orders, looking up at Hyunjin and lightly kicking him.
Hyunjin undresses quickly under Jeongin’s hungry eyes and lays down in bed with him in such a natural way he didn’t expect he could. They climb up the bed while kissing, until Jeongin’s head is resting over the pillow and Hyunjin’s lost in the feeling of their hips glued together, tapping the bed without even looking, searching for the lube.
Jeongin chuckles into their kiss and extends a hand over the comforter too, tapping along with Hyunjin.
“Sorry,” Hyunjin laughs shyly.
“‘s okay,” Jeongin sighs, lips parting open to let out a moan at the end. He’s dripping precum all over their stomachs, wet and aching, perfectly made for Hyunjin to grind against once more.
There’s something fascinating in the way Jeongin reacts with his whole body, legs shaking, chest heaving and fingers lost in between Hyunjin’s hair scratching his scalp just right. His nipples are perked up under his t-shirt and Hyunjin can’t help but kiss them over the fabric while he finally gets a hold of the lube.
“Show me what you like again,” Hyunjin pleads, leaving the bottle in Jeongin’s hand still spread over the comforter.
“God,” Jeongin throws an arm over his eyes as he chuckles. “Okay, just don’t look me in the eyes.”
Hyunjin has to move Jeongin’s arm away, look at him one last time before accepting his request. “Why?” He asks, still curious.
“It would be too intimate.”
“Okay,” Hyunjin accepts with a peck on Jeongin’s lips. Casual, that’s exactly what they’re aiming for, no strings attached.
Jeongin settles higher on the bed, pillows behind his back and legs parted open. Even if it doesn’t feel intimate, the air around them is vulnerable, Hyunjin lying between his open legs and kissing up Jeongin’s inner thigh while Jeongin’s lubed fingers slide down to touch himself.
Hyunjin drinks in every sigh, every little twitch of Jeongin’s body and his breath getting stuck when he reaches deep inside himself or adds another finger. Jeongin’s hand is big and his fingers skilled, a pretty ring sitting on the knuckle of his index finger while he pushes in and throws his head back. Even his noises sound melodic, like Jeongin’s playing a song, sighs and moans composing a tune just for Hyunjin.
And then it stops.
Jeongin pops his fingers out of himself with the squelch of lube following along his exhale and runs his other hand through Hyunjin’s locks. When Hyunjin looks up at him, Jeongin’s eyes are dark and hooded.
“You can fuck me now.”
Hyunjin’s breath gets stuck in his lungs for a second too long at the sight and at how utterly fucked Jeongin’s voice is after being touched and working himself open for so long. He kisses up Jeongin’s hip when he remembers how to breathe like a proper being, tracing an invisible line that leads him to Jeongin’s red lips.
“What an honor,” he repeats his words from before, smiling when he feels Jeongin’s lips curve under his.
“I know.”
→♡ɞ
Chan giggles as Changbin’s food falls from his chopsticks.
“Let me get this straight,” Minho starts, pointing his own knife at Hyunjin. “You, Hwang Hyunjin, just fucked a dude.”
“Well, it was a couple of nights ago actually,” Hyunjin shrugs. He gets a mouthful of his food and ignores the way he can feel his ears burning.
He didn’t know whether to tell his friends until they’ve started talking about their latest weekends and Hyunjin’s only activity was, well, being on top of Jeongin.
Minho raises a brow at him. “And you didn’t write poetry about him or paint your feelings or stayed at the studio late at night to dance in the dark to something romantic at all?”
Well, now Hyunjin feels pinned to a microscope slide. He had no idea his habits were so well known by his friends.
When Hyunjin doesn’t answer, Minho slaps Jisung’s shoulder lightly. “This is all your fault.”
“How is it my fault?” Jisung asks, tone of his voice high, wide eyes and lips curved in a shocked expression — the full Han Jisung package. “I didn’t unzip his pants for him!”
“You put things into his head,” Minho tsks before shoving a mouthful of rice past his lips and shaking his head in disapproval.
Jisung puts down his chopsticks and rests both of his hands on the kitchen island dramatically, in the background Chan can’t stop giggling at the whole scene. “So, you think you’ve found the love of your life on a club’s dance floor after one drunk kiss,” he says, directing his attention to Changbin, “and you,” this time he turns to Hyunjin, “you hooked up with a guy and didn’t even let him stay the night.”
Well, Jeongin and Hyunjin both decided it was for the best if Jeongin didn’t sleep in the same room as him after having just had sex. Casual. Jisung should know how it works since he suggested it.
Hyunjin paid for Jeongin’s taxi and wrapped Jeongin’s scarf around his neck before letting him go, laughing when Jeongin huffed and said he didn’t need to be babied, swatting Hyunjin’s hands away.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin confirms.
“Something happened on Valentine’s night, I’m sure of it,” Jisung says, as if he’s found his new favorite conspiracy right after the podcast about aliens he listens to on his runs. “Did you bonk heads together?”
“Excuse me,” Changbin calls, trying to get their attention. “Is nobody happy that I’ve found love?”
“Sure, Bin,” Chan pats his shoulder condescendingly while Minho snorts.
When Changbin turns to look at Hyunjin to find some support, Hyunjin can’t help but laugh too.
“Do you even know his name?”
Bullseye.
→♡ɞ
Electricity dances over Hyunjin’s skin as Jeongin drags him in by the collar of his hoodie, fingers tugging, needy, as they stumble inside the apartment.
Jeongin has had a rough day, the kind you rant over the phone for hours if you’re not Yang Jeongin and like to keep it all bottled up until the lid of the pot starts to rattle. Hyunjin doesn’t blame Jeongin for not wanting to talk about his last disappointing piano gig and instead lets him come at him, kissing Hyunjin in a way that’s raw and honest. Sometimes you need to not think about your problems in order to find the right moment later to let it all out.
The door slams behind Hyunjin’s back and his shoulders come immediately into contact with it.
“Good night to you too,” he jokes as Jeongin starts unbuttoning his jacket.
It’s only the fourth time they meet up to hook up and, just like the last times, things fall together like puzzle pieces. Hyunjin never would’ve thought that he could feel such compatibility with someone who’s not his boyfriend, and yet every touch of Jeongin’s lips or fingers feels perfect.
“We have half an hour before my roommates come back,” Jeongin says, frustrated. He clumsily half hangs Hyunjin’s jacket on the coat rack at the entrance and turns all his attention to Hyunjin again.
His hair is messy and all over the place and his clothes are to a level of unironed that they would scare even the messiest person ever. And he’s pretty, so pretty Hyunjin almost forgets his comeback about Jeongin calling him for a quickie. What was he supposed to say?
“So, are you, like…” Jeongin’s voice fades, a slight pout on his lips and a crease between his brows. ‘Aren’t you going to kiss me crazy too?’
‘Of course,’ Hyunjin thinks, taking a step forward in Jeongin’s direction and leaning down those few centimeters that separate them in height to kiss Jeongin’s pout. “Where’s your room?”
Jeongin drags Hyunjin down the living room that Hyunjin has barely any time to glance at and then down a corridor. Jeongin’s room has cute fox ears drawn on them and whiskers too, he really is the cutest.
“Wow, you’re organized,” Hyunjin comments, noticing how clean Jeongin’s room is. His bed is slightly unmade, a sign that Jeongin had tried and failed to take a nap before, but the rest of his room is spotless.
“I try my best,” Jeongin shrugs. His fingers are busy playing with his unpierced lobe as he looks at Hyunjin, back resting against the now closed door of his bedroom. Behind him there’s a band poster and a pinned four cuts photo of him and his roommates.
Jeongin’s space. Personal and cozy, with comic books and music sheets piled on his shelves and cds neatly stacked and his piano keyboard pushed against the wall under his window. Hyunjin likes it.
There’s a moment of comfortable silence, just them looking at each other, before Hyunjin decides that he’s done observing. Jeongin throws his arms around his shoulders as soon as Hyunjin kisses him, leaving the moving around the room to Hyunjin who can’t bother opening his eyes, too lost in the feeling of Jeongin sighing into his mouth.
“Ah, hyung!” Jeongin gasps as he gets hauled up, his legs wrapping around Hyunjin instinctively the moment Hyunjin cups his ass and pulls him up. Hyunjin laughs into the soft skin of Jeongin’s neck before nibbling at it.
“You smell good.”
Jeongin’s head tilts back as Hyunjin litters his neck with kisses and small bites, bathing in the way Jeongin’s whole body trembles at the touch. He can barely utter a ‘thank you,’ lost in the pleasure of it all.
Jeongin’s already hard and whining, fingers tangled in Hyunjin’s hair in a way Hyunjin's starting to suspect to be a personal preference. Not that he’s complaining.
Hyunjin slowly lowers Jeongin to sit over his keyboard, the idea of doing anything to him on top of it makes his fingers hitch and his heart skip beats.
To his dismay, the most absurd sound comes out the moment Jeongin’s ass touches the keys.
“What was that?” Hyunjin bursts into a laugh as Jeongin slips from his hold and falls right back on his feet. His foxy eyes are wide open and his cheeks are quickly turning bright pink. “Why did it meow?”
“Oh my God I’m killing Felix,” Jeongin utters in one breath, running his hands through his own already messy hair.
Hyunjin can’t stop chuckling. “What?”
“He likes to play around with it, he must've— stop laughing!”
“I’m sorry!” Hyunjin raises a hand to his lips to muffle his laugh and it’s quite impossible not to be amused when Jeongin gives him a stern annoyed look.
A hand to his chest and one calculated shove and Hyunjin is bouncing down on Jeongin’s unmade bed, looking up at the man that just pushed him. He climbs into Hyunjin’s lap and cages him down the mattress.
“It has sound effects.”
“Alright, piano boy,” Hyunjin breathes out, a remark to which Jeongin rolls his eyes before sneaking his hands under Hyunjin’s sweater and undoing his belt.
Every detail about Jeongin makes him even more sweet and interesting, making Hyunjin want to poke and tug and forget how to behave like a normal human being. Not that he has to with Jeongin, Jeongin gets him, and when he doesn’t, he tries to.
Jeongin slips and throws Hyunjin’s belt away. “What did you want to do over my keyboard anyway? Freak.”
“I bet it’s sanitizable.”
“I’ll think about it,” Jeongin says, and Hyunjin knows he will actually ponder about it like the little type J he is.
Sometimes Jeongin tells Hyunjin to stop talking about mbtis, Hyunjin still made him retake the test while they were on a phone call the other day, threatening to call back when Jeongin said he was going to hang up.
Gentle fingers play tunes over Hyunjin's skin as they start lifting up his sweater and then pull down his jeans and boxers just enough for Jeongin to free his growing erection.
“Clothes on?” he checks. A request to which Hyunjin can only say a choked up ‘yes’. “Great,” Jeongin breathes out, shimming his own shorts and underwear down enough so they get stuck at his ankles, “I already opened myself up.”
Hyunjin almost meets heart failure.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, watching Jeongin leaning back to reach for his nightstand. Hyunjin rests quiet as he looks at him opening a condom and checking the right side to put it on, only letting out a soft exhale when Jeongin starts rolling it on him. “You should’ve called me while you were doing it.”
Jeongin snorts and looks away from Hyunjin. “You’re insane,” he sighs. Still, he raises his hips to line Hyunjin’s cock to his entrance. “You were on the subway, that’s like, public ind—ah— indecency.”
Hyunjin’s hands fly to hold Jeongin’s hips as he slowly sinks down, lips parted and eyes closing for a second when he’s fully seated on top of Hyunjin. Dark eyelashes flutter open when Jeongin’s eyes set on him and, once again, Hyunjin forgets any kind of remarks.
He props himself up the best he can to reach Jeongin’s lips and gets lost in the feeling of their next kiss, messy and uncoordinated as Jeongin starts riding him. Fingers slip through Hyunjin’s hair again and tug, while Hyunjin leaves his own hands where they were earlier, following Jeongin’s grinding and fingertips digging into his flesh.
Words of encouragement slip through Hyunjin’s lips easily since the night he discovered that they make Jeongin’s tummy feel funny and his head floaty. They make Jeongin lose his rhythm and make his filter fall down, moans becoming more incoherent and Hyunjin’s name a mix of sounds Jeongin struggles to utter properly.
“Were you that flustered?” Hyunjin asks, pushing a strand of damp hair behind Jeongin’s ear.
Jeongin melts into the touch, nodding. Hyunjin follows along to not lose the feeling of his lips for too long. “Hyung, I’m almost— Ah, here, here, you’re—” His voice breaks into a loud moan that Hyunjin barely catches, hearing going deaf as Jeongin pulls at his hair.
The burn of it is just right, his head tilting back, Jeongin following the movement to kiss him more, the action more important than riding Hyunjin as he slips out when Jeongin raises up on his knees.
They fall on the mattress, messy, hitting spots that hurt a little, but Hyunjin has just tasted what stars feel like and so it doesn’t matter. He grinds up, almost incoherent, chasing the feeling of Jeongin’s cock brushing against his own, fingers probably leaving indents in the flesh of Jeongin’s ass — Hyunjin has never felt more desperate to reach his high, to make someone reach theirs.
Jeongin cries against his lips as he cums, and it’s enough for Hyunjin to follow, that quiet uttered “Hyunjinnie,” that Jeongin’s saying for the first time tasting sweet on his tongue.
They stay quiet and still for a couple of seconds, just the sound of their breaths slowing down and their erratic heartbeats in sync, thumping against each other’s ribcages.
“What happened to you today?” Hyunjin asks, this time not teasing. He feels the line of Jeongin’s spine under his shirt, both the cotton and his skin damp.
Jeongin lets out a shaky exhale and rubs his forehead over Hyunjin’s shoulder where it was previously resting.
“My father called me right after I got scammed by the bride’s mother at a wedding,” he groans, rubbing himself over Hyunjin like a cat. He dives his nose into Hyunjin’s neck and sighs. “She paid me only half of what we established and my father is, well, you know.”
Hyunjin keeps his slow drag up and down Jeongin’s spine, relieved that it’s making Jeongin melt even more than his post orgasm. The most casual thing would be getting up and asking Jeongin something to clean the inevitable cum stains on his clothes, talking over his bad day in the bathroom while Hyunjin rubs soap on his sweater, but Hyunjin can’t find it in himself to leave their small bubble.
Honestly, it doesn’t seem like Jeongin wants to get up either.
“I know,” Hyunjin sighs.
Jeongin has zero support from his family, but nevertheless they call almost daily, trying to change his mind and make him drop his dream for something safer. Hyunjin was lucky with his parents who have been supporting him from his first day of dance classes and showing up to every important performance. He doesn’t take it for granted, especially since he has met Jeongin.
“Thank you for coming when I called.”
“Of course I did.”
Hyunjin would’ve come anyway, even without any mind blowing sex involved. He cares about Jeongin quite much.
“Was it okay?” Jeongin asks, raising his head and resting his forearms on Hyunjin's chest. His cheeks are flushed and his lips red like cherries. It would be inappropriate to kiss him again, though.
“Are you kidding me?” Hyunjin chuckles at his question, as if the answer isn’t written all over his face.
“God forbid a man wants a little praise.”
Hyunjin pats his head condescendingly, letting out a short laugh. “You did well, Innie-ya.”
Jeongin swats his hand away with a groan and rolls off Hyunjin’s body. He falls beside him on the bed and makes a quick work of pulling up his shorts and underwear in one go after slipping his stained t-shirt off.
Hyunjin tucks himself back in his underwear and jeans too after taking off the condom and takes one look down at his stained sweater. He can’t seem to feel bothered by what happened to it, though.
“You have to lend me something,” he sighs, slipping his sweater off.
“Yeah, I know,” Jeongin says with a sly grin on his lips.
When he’s not shy and embarrassed, Jeongin can manage to be quite cocky and bratty, like a coin flipping faces depending on the strength you decide to throw it. Hyunjin finds both sides quite entertaining, that’s why he just laughs and slaps Jeongin’s thigh in a sign to hurry up instead of blaming him for his desire to have sex with clothes on.
Hyunjin looks at him curiously as, chest, cheeks and tips of his ears still flushed, Jeongin paddles around his room to clean around. He blesses Hyunjin with a crewneck only once he has successfully thrown out the condom and put their dirty clothes in the hamper.
“Here’s to you, from Seoul’s Institute of Performing Arts,” he says, waving the branded item in front of Hyunjin with a smirk and looking goofy with his hair fluffed up from earlier.
“Is that your degree over there?” Hyunjin asks, nodding at the frame hanging on the wall in between photos, posters and concert tickets.
Jeongin turns his head to look at it and nods. “Mhmh, not even a year old.”
Hyunjin doesn’t know what propels him to place his hands behind Jeongin’s thighs and pull him closer to hug him, he just does it. Follows his instincts and puts thinking aside.
“You did good,” he whispers, thumbs brushing against the naked skin of Jeongin’s lower back. “It will work out with time.”
Like this, head against his belly, Hyunjin can feel Jeongin’s breathing again, this time calm and relaxed.
“Yeah,” Jeongin sighs, his tone far away from being confident.
Hyunjin wishes he could do more, so that he could ease Jeongin’s worries. A path in arts isn’t easy, he knows it, if only knowledge were enough to comfort Jeongin. He must be hearing the same sentences over and over from peers and friends.
A bit shy, Hyunjin hopes to convey his care in a simple kiss on Jeongin’s hip. It’s a peck, nothing more, but if Hyunjin’s feeling warmth all over his chest, it must transfer to Jeongin even a little bit.
Jeongin exhales a more relaxed sigh at the touch and runs his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair, pushing it back just as Hyunjin looks up. Hyunjin’s brain grows fuzzy as Jeongin doesn’t stop, raking his fingers in between black locks and combing them out of the way. It feels warmer than stars and the heat of the moment.
Hyunjin places another kiss on Jeongin’s hip and this time doesn’t look up to check, as Jeongin follows his movements with fingers still tangled in his hair, clearing out the way when Hyunjin’s bangs slip down and cover his view. With caution, Hyunjin slowly tugs down Jeongin’s shorts, enough to kiss lower where his hair is neatly trimmed and his scent intensifies. Jeongin’s short sighs only spur him on to continue, only melt more whatever matter is sitting in Hyunjin’s lower abdomen and make him ache.
“Can I?” Hyunjin checks, finally looking up at Jeongin again through his lashes. His fingers are hooked under Jeongin’s waistband with more intent, waiting.
And Jeongin, surprisingly, smiles. Soft, tender. “Yeah, you can.”
The moment breaks with a boisterous laugh echoing from afar and a door clicking closed. Jeongin’s eyes widen alike Hyunjin’s own as they both break contact and scoot away from each other.
They both float back to reality, or rather fall into it harshly. Wanting to kiss every inch of Jeongin can be casual, right? He’s just attractive, that’s all.
Hyunjin drags his palms over his jeans before grabbing Jeongin’s crewneck and putting it on. A mere excuse to hide his blushing face for a couple of seconds and think of how the hell he’s going to leave Jeongin’s place in a hurry in his disheveled state.
Jeongin gets a shirt from his closet and throws it on too, stopping by the mirror to uselessly try to fix his hair.
When their gazes meet in the reflection, Hyunjin’s tension melts.
He chuckles and gets up, heading to the corner where Jeongin is still standing. “Stop thinking about your hair and think how to sneak me out of here,” he says, leaning closer to get a good look at himself over Jeongin’s shoulder.
“Right,” Jeongin exhales. “Yeah, right.”
They both know that there’s nothing secret about their bond, Hyunjin is aware Jeongin has talked about him to his roommates before, and Jeongin knows well that Hyunjin’s friends always poke around to know more. But meeting Jeongin’s two dearest friends when they’ve clearly just fucked is not the most appropriate first encounter.
The next minutes are quite comical as Jeongin walks Hyunjin down the corridor like they’re both spies, avoiding Jeongin’s roommates going in and out of rooms. They use the chance of Felix hopping towards the kitchen and Seungmin heading to the bathroom to pass through the living room without being seen and reach the entrance.
“Wash my sweater,” Hyunjin reminds Jeongin as he quickly puts on his jacket and scarf. Because it’s easy, it’s them, it’s casual.
“Alright,” Jeongin whispers and rolls his eyes. He slaps Hyunjin’s shoulder over his puffer jacket, starting to push him away. “Leave now.”
Hyunjin muffles a laugh with his hand and nods. “Okay, okay.”
“Don’t forget to call when you get home,” is what Jeongin tells him last before closing the front door. From outside the corridor, Hyunjin can hear the voices coming from inside the previously silent apartment.
“I was wondering why you didn’t come to greet us.”
“Seungminnie hyung, please.”
“He’s hot.”
“Okay, that’s it, I’m going to shower.”
A deeper voice bursts into a laugh. “You better, you stink!”
Hyunjin thought Jeongin’s scent was inebriating.
→♡ɞ
The days leading to Hyunjin’s birthday pass by in between work, meeting with friends and Jeongin.
Hyunjin thinks there isn’t a spot of Jeongin’s body that his fingers haven’t touched both appropriately and inappropriately. He knows the location of every mole, the lines of those two almost invisible stretch marks over Jeongin’s thighs, the taste of his body lotion and of his raw skin.
And it’s a knowledge that sits right next to the facts Hyunjin has learned about Jeongin as a friend. His favorite song and how Jeongin’s voice cracks when he’s laughing, embarrassed and flushed after too much teasing, Jeongin’s favorite movies, his secret collection of Pokémon stickers and the too many pairs of shoes he owns.
“Where is it safe to sit?” Minho asks teasingly, looking down at the sofa and the old armchair in Hyunjin’s living room.
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at him. “Literally everywhere.”
Unceremoniously, Chan slumps down Hyunjin's sofa without a care in the world and sighs. “I’m so full,” he complains as if his lips aren’t spreading into a pleased smile.
Changbin falls right next to him, wrapping his arm on the back of the sofa and welcoming Chan when he scoots closer to steal a cuddle.
They’re supposed to leave soon, but Hyunjin guesses a little rest before heading to the club isn’t such a bad idea.
“Oh no, that’s terrible,” Jisung gasps as soon as his eyes fall on the three of them sitting down. “That’s a recipe for food coma, you— babe, why are you standing up like that?”
“You want us to not sit down or not?” Minho asks.
“Look,” Chan whispers in Hyunjin’s ear, “he’s going to turn red like a berry.”
“Well— it’s— stop being weird!” Jisung sputters.
“It’s my favorite show,” Changbin says along Chan’s comment with a nod. Hyunjin can only agree, Minho and Jisung are quite an entertaining duo.
Minho rests his hands on his hips and Jisung does the same, staring up at his boyfriend.
It’s the first time Hyunjin’s place is the group’s hanging out spot, but it only felt natural for Hyunjin to celebrate his birthday at his own place. As a cherry on top, Minho and Chan proposed to cook when Hyunjin said he was ordering food, so the dinner was not only cozy but extra delicious.
Hyunjin wouldn’t mind a little nap instead of heading down to the club to dance, actually. Food coma, Jisung keeps being right over everything.
“I just don’t want to sit where Hyunjinnie has had sex,” Minho annoyingly says. It’s impossible for him to hide that little hint of amusement in his voice, the satisfaction that he’s teasing all the right spots.
Hyunjin hides his face into Chan’s shoulder as he groans. “I used to have sex also before Innie.”
“Don’t even dare to mention that rat you used to date,” Minho says as he scrunches his nose in disgust. He was the head of the ‘fuck Sungil’ club, Hyunjin isn’t at all surprised by his expression.
“This new guy could be a rat too,” Chan, sweet and always kind, gives people the benefit of the doubt Chan, suggests. A clear sign that Sungil could truly be considered evil.
Not that Hyunjin isn’t aware of all the times he has been neglected, or belittled, forgotten, judged. Now that the rose tinted glasses have come off and Hyunjin doesn’t even miss the first sweet months of their relationship, he’s becoming a late member of the Sungil hating team too.
“Nah,” Changbin says, waving a hand. “He’s cute, I saw him.”
“You were pissed drunk,” Jisung points out.
“He is cute,” Hyunjin says in support of Jeongin before anyone can get a bad idea of him. Comparing him to Sungil would be like trying to mix water with oil and, moreover, Jeongin isn’t Hyunjin’s boyfriend.
Changbin backs him up immediately with a hum and a nod. “If you’d seen him you’d know, he has like,” he moves his hands in the air like to mimic sparkles, “the aura of a pastry.”
“A pastry?” Minho lifts a skeptical brow at him.
“His cheeks are soft like one,” Hyunjin says quietly to Chan, who in return whispers back an “I believe you.”
Eventually Minho sits down on the armchair, his lap immediately becoming Jisung’s spot as they catch up over life in the past days while they wait a little before going out. Hyunjin doesn’t dare tell him how he and Jeongin made out on top of it until the friction between them got so good they almost forgot to switch to the bed, he would only prove Minho right and he’s trying his best not to.
An hour passes by without them realizing it, all until Changbin starts to whine as if he wasn’t the second one to lounge on the sofa with a pleased hum. Hyunjin suspects it has to do with the fact that the club they’ve decided to go to is the same one he claims he has found his soulmate in, but he still doesn’t dare to ask.
The mid March weather is not club attire friendly, Hyunjin wraps himself in his jacket like he’s heading towards a snowstorm and, walking in the back with Chan, answers his phone call trying to hold back a smile.
“I need an excuse to escape the noise,” Jeongin says before even greeting.
There’s bass booming in the background, which makes Hyunjin’s safe to assume that Felix has dragged him and Seungmin clubbing again.
Hyunjin chuckles and shakes his head. “Stop using me as a scapegoat, your friends are going to hate me.”
By his side, Chan glances at him, curious. “Jeongin?” he mouths silently with an interested glint in his eyes. Hyunjin nods back and tries his best to ignore Chan tapping Changbin’s shoulder.
Hyunjin knows he has precedents of romantic gestures and fantasies and love sickness, but he’s aceing this casual thing, why can’t they believe him?
“They quite like you, actually,” Jeongin says with an annoyed tone.
“And you don’t like that?” Hyunjin asks. Jeongin must be teasing for sure.
There’s a beat of silence.
“They looked at your photos and said that you’re hot, it’s annoying.”
Something tickles Hyunjin’s insides, like a sixth sense kicking in. “Why?”
“They just— shouldn’t think of you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t make me say it out loud,” Jeongin huffs.
Hyunjin can imagine him, leaning against the wall outside the club, blushing ears and pout on his pretty lips. If they were alone, if Hyunjin didn’t have now four pairs of ears not so subtly tuned into his conversation, he would do his best to use this moment to tease Jeongin. But he can’t, so—
“Okay,” he says, instead of the teasing ‘Is it because I’m all yours?’ sitting on the tip of his tongue. “I’m out too tonight.”
“Really?” Jeongin asks. “We can hang up, I’ll go bother Seungmin instead.”
“That could actually make him dislike me,” Hyunjin reasons.
On the other side of the line, Jeongin laughs softly. “Good. He’s insufferable.”
Hyunjin bites on his bottom lip as he ignores the glances he keeps getting from his friends. “What does he do?”
“There’s no way I’ll tell you, perv.”
Hyunjin laughs at Jeongin’s annoyance, clearly mixed with affection. He’d pay to look at him right now, spot all the places where his blush blooms and pinch all the spots necessary to make him puff.
“Oh, we’re here,” Changbin says loudly with excitement.
The club is just one of the many on the busy street, a neon sign on top of the entrance and a bumper checking IDs with shoulders wide as a closet. But Hyunjin's attention gets quickly stolen by someone else leaning on the wall just by the entrance, phone raised to his ear and foxy brown eyes settling on him.
Jeongin is wearing a simple flowy button up, the collar undone and a thin silver choker around the base of his neck. His hair is styled in a messy yet obviously crafted way and there’s eyeliner, thin and dark, enhancing his gaze.
Fuck.
Hyunjin’s throat feels dry.
Before he can utter a greeting or Jeongin’s name, Jeongin gets engulfed in a tight hug by someone Hyunjin can easily identify as Felix: blonde long hair, freckles, a smile emitting the energy of a thousand watts.
“Ayenii, come dance, it’s boring without you!”
“Huh, ah— yeah,” Jeongin mumbles, “just give me a second.”
Cat-like eyes and stars in them, Felix follows Jeongin’s gaze with interest, stopping on Hyunjin before drifting away to someone else. His lips part in a small ‘o’ and “Gym guy!” he exclaims with an even brighter smile than before.
Changbin stutters over his own words. “Uh— ah— hi? Hi, yes.” It’s impossible not to notice the blush that creeps up his cheeks and ears in an instant, and, suddenly, Hyunjin realizes.
Felix is Changbin’s self proclaimed love of his life.
What were the odds.
“Oh my God,” Felix says, hopping closer. “I washed my jeans with your number in it, can you believe it?”
Changbin’s clearly malfunctioning, eyes blinking rapidly and lips struggling to form a coherent sentence. He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, which is also, by the way, bright red.
“Oh, like, really? That’s— uh— a shame.”
Felix answers to his barely uttered words. “And you’re friends with Ayeni’s friend, that’s so cool,” he says briefly glancing at Hyunjin, “it’s like fate.”
In an instant all eyes fall on Jeongin, who does his best not to cringe and raises a hand as a shy greeting. Definitely not how Hyunjin thought of introducing Jeongin to his own friends, but there isn’t much he can do now.
“We’re here for Hyunjinnie’s birthday,” Minho says casually while also keeping a suspiciously louder tone than usual.
Hyunjin watches Jeongin tilt his head to the side before his whole attention gets stolen by Felix. “Really?” Felix asks. “I’ll offer you a drink, we know the bartender, right Yeni?”
There’s quick introductions led by Felix and surprisingly Minho — it must be their cat genes for sure, some mischievous nature that’s making them click over the stupor of meeting Hyunjin and Jeongin on the same night. Now Minho can tease Hyunjin fully and Hyunjin suspects Felix will do the same with Jeongin.
“He looks sweet,” Chan whispers to Hyunjin as they skip the line thanks to Felix, the bumper just giving them a positive nod and letting them in after pressing a black ink stamp on their hands.
“Who?” Hyunjin asks. He’s probably a masochist.
“Your Innie,” Chan answers with a grin.
And Hyunjin can’t even fight him back because it is true, Jeongin looks particularly sweet tonight.
Felix guides them through the crowd towards the bar, greeting people like the evident social butterfly that he is and tugging at Changbin’s sleeve. Does he know how much he’s attempting at his heart?
Probably, Hyunjin supposes.
“Seungmin—a!” He shouts, wide grin and waving a hand.
The guy on the nearest stool looks up, puppy eyes widening and dark eyebrows rising. “I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he reprimands himself, looking around the group. Hyunjin catches the spark of knowledge in his gaze when Seungmin's eyes set on him.
In some twisted way Hyunjin can’t decipher right now, with the music too loud and under stroboscopic lights, the idea of Jeongin showing his photos to his roommates makes him feel something in his chest.
“This is Changbin-ssi!” Felix says, trying his best to be heard over the music. “The boxer! And Hyunjin-ssi too!”
Seungmin chuckles at his friend’s shouting. “Cool!” he says with a smile, dropping any type of concern over Felix showing up to him with a bunch of people.
Hyunjin leans against the counter as he waits for their shots to arrive and pretends not to notice the way Jeongin slowly makes his way to him, or how the gradient gloss on his lips makes them look extremely kissable.
He leans against the counter right by Hyunjin and rests his hands on it. “You should’ve told me it was your birthday,” he says, leaning in to speak closer to Hyunjin’s ear. “I would’ve gotten you a gift.”
“I’ve been busy all day with my parents and the guys,” Hyunjin says, leaning into Jeongin’s space too. “I’m sorry.”
Hyunjin didn’t exactly know whether to tell Jeongin, the topic of birthdays hasn’t come up in the past month, and starting their call with a ‘It’s my birthday today!’ felt self centered. Before Hyunjin could think more about it, he got distracted by the way Jeongin’s voice sounded over the phone — a bit of a skill issue there, he has to admit.
“It’s okay,” Jeongin chuckles. “That just means you’ll have to wait extra time to receive my gift, too bad for you.”
Hyunjin snorts as he leans away. “How will I survive?”
Jeongin shrugs, a bit goofy and quite adorable in the way he curves his lips downward. “That’s for you to find out.”
The club’s air is hot and suffocating, the dance floor packed. Hyunjin is in the middle of it only because it was impossible to say no to a giggly and tipsy Minho nagging him about how he has only one hour left of his birthday to enjoy.
So Hyunjin’s dancing, ignoring the way Felix and Changbin are eating each other’s faces two people away from him or Jeongin’s laughing as Chan is shouting something in his ear over the loud edm music. It’s like Hyunjin’s two worlds are colliding, and he’s not sure if it’s the origin of the funny feeling in his stomach or the soju shots he got offered by his friends.
But Hyunjin isn’t drunk, no, his vision is clear and his mind sharp. Could it be the too sugary cake from earlier? Was one of the ingredients spoiled?
An arm bumps into Hyunjin’s, something he usually wouldn’t mind as he’s willingly in a packed club, not until he hears his name.
“Hwang Hyunjin!”
When Hyunjin glances to the side, his blood runs cold.
“Kim Jaejin,” he says, too quiet to be heard, but Jaejin catches the way Hyunjin’s lips move and his obvious shock and smirks.
“Ya!” He wraps his arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders like they’ve ever been actual friends, like he hasn’t thrown jab after jab at Hyunjin for all the nine months of his relationship with Sungil. “I haven’t heard from you in a month!”
More than a month, but whatever.
“That was quite dramatic of you, you know?”
Hyunjin quickly scrolls him off his side and he knows he can handle this, that he can tell Jaejin to fuck off on his own, but a little relieved breath leaves his lips when Minho stands by his side anyway.
“Hey,” Minho simply says, loud enough, a polite smirk on his lips and yet tension in his jawline. “Do we know you?” The question is meant to be annoying, as Minho and Jaejin do quite know each other.
Jaejin tongues his cheek and then lets out an incredulous laugh. “Why is one of them always attached to your hip?” He asks, leaning closer to Hyunjin to be heard.
To be honest, Hyunjin is quite tired of it all, even more than he was on Valentine’s night when Jaejin’s laugh echoed loud and clear in his ear through the speakers of his phone. He just wants a quiet comfortable life, one where he doesn’t have to beg to be understood, where he doesn’t cry at night because he feels out of place.
“Can you lea—”
Hyunjin’s tongue ties on its own as the crowd parts behind Jaejin when someone else pushes through it to reach them. And what a terribly uncomfortable night it has just become.
“Hyunjin-a,” Sungil holds his hand and leans to his ear so quickly that Hyunjin can barely think of slapping his touch away. “Let’s talk.”
Minho’s hand wraps around Sungil’s own, squeezing both his and Hyunjin’s hand. “Hyunjinnie.”
“Hyung, it’s okay,” Hyunjin reassures him. He wiggles his hand out of both of their holds and offers Minho a reassuring smile and a look, then he turns to Sungil. “Let’s go.”
Cutting ties was never Hyunjin’s best choice, he knew it. It didn’t align with his personality, with his need to finish reading a chapter before moving to the next one — that intricate need to know what the last words on the last page are, to add his own too.
So he turns his back to Sungil, sure that for once he will follow without him needing to check, and starts making his way through the sweaty bodies on the dance floor.
He doesn’t stop by the guardrobe to get his jacket before passing the threshold of the exit, he won’t be out for long to suffer the cold. He won’t beg as he used to. Because his heart doesn’t do a summersault anymore in crossing eyes with him as Sungil watches him carefully outside on the curb, the neon light of the club shining above them.
“You know it’s my birthday tonight?” Hyunjin asks, leaning his back against the cold wall.
There’s not a single tear picking his eyes. If Sungil will say that he has forgotten, Hyunjin will cuss him, if he does remember, he won’t be flattered. Disappointment is all he feels right now.
“I do.”
“So you know how impolite it is for you to bother me tonight.”
Sungil’s eyes widen a little before he looks away, glancing at the line outside the club. He fishes for something in the back pocket of his jeans and lights up a cigarette, still not looking into Hyunjin’s eyes.
“I’m sorry about Valentine’s night.”
Took him long enough.
“Okay,” Hyunjin breathes out. “What else?” This is so underwhelming, why did he spend weeks hoping for Sungil to knock on his door or ring any of his friends' numbers asking for him?
Would’ve Sungil ever apologized for forgetting about him if they would’ve never crossed paths casually again?
Hyunjin looks at him taking another drag and scrolling the ashes off the top of his cigarette. “I know it might not seem like it, but I care about you, Hyunjin-a.”
“Okay,” Hyunjin repeats. He feels spent.
This, makes Sungil finally look at him.
“Just ‘okay’?” He raises a brow, puzzled and taken aback. It makes Hyunjin almost let out a laugh, for once he didn’t get what he wanted, Hyunjin isn’t asking what he has done wrong, what he can do better.
In the end, Hyunjin laughs. Maybe he’s not as detached as he thought, maybe his disappointment hides more than he was sensing.
Sungil watches him like he’s a mad man and “What do you want me to say? Realistically,” Hyunjin asks. “You forget about dates and important things and always let your friends belittle me and my job and my friends. What do you even like about me? And don’t you dare say that I look beautiful while I’m mad.”
“You do, though.”
“You always do this,” Hyunjin points out. He has lost count of how many times Sungil has not answered his worries and questions, always trying to aim at Hyunjin’s most vulnerable side — the one that yearns to be loved back. But Hyunjin doesn’t love Sungil anymore. “Did you even try to contact me in any way after one day? Give me one reason to forgive you.”
Sungil hesitates, silence stretching between them and the cigarette in his fingers burning, and it’s enough for Hyunjin to know that he didn’t.
“I miss you.”
“Okay,” Hyunjin sighs for the third time of the night. A bewildered chuckle slips out of his lips and he’s never felt more hopeless. Detached? Hyunjin’s livid. He takes a step closer to Sungil and rests a hand on his shoulder. “Find someone you really like and stop messing with me.”
Sungil looks up at him in a way that’s new, but Hyunjin knows well the person in front of him. Even though he’s tried to deny it blinded by love, he’s not influenced by it anymore, and what he sees looking down it’s just someone who’s not right for him and never will be.
Hyunjin doesn’t wait for Sungil’s next words that will never come and walks away instead, heading back to the front door and quickly showing his stamp to the bumper to enter. The music hits his eardrums immediately as he steps in and under the dimmed lights, his eyes fall on Jeongin. He’s laying his shoulder right against the edge of the curtain of the guardrobe, nervously playing with his earlobe and with red bitten lips. When he sees Hyunjin, he sports the sweetest awkward smile ever.
“Are you…”
“I’m fine,” Hyunjin lies. He is more upset than he’d like to admit to anyone, or himself. Jeongin however looks at him like he knows and can see right through him.
“Okay,” Jeongin says, way softer than Hyunjin when he repeated himself earlier, like his words want to caress Hyunjin’s skin — not a gesture of letting go. “Follow me.”
In a not so swift move, libs getting tangled in the curtain and giggles bubbling up their chests in embarrassment, Jeongin drags Hyunjin inside the currently unguarded guardrobe. He tugs at Hyunjin’s wrist until they’re snuck in between two rows of jackets and coats and rests Hyunjin’s back against the wall, gently.
“We’re going to get accused of stealing,” Hyunjin hisses before Jeongin can shut him up with a hand. It feels warm and smells of lemon, salt and tequila.
“Then they can check our pockets later,” Jeongin reasons easily. “Or we can spend the night at the police station, anything’s better than hearing Lixie and your friend going at it all night.”
“Oh my God,” Hyunjin groans right into Jeongin’s hand, bursting into a laugh. Jeongin frees him at the right moment, laughing along with him.
It’s a short moment that fades out slowly, tenderly. Hyunjin doesn’t feel angry, that’s all in the past. He looks at Jeongin, eyes squinted shut, dimples and now slightly disheveled hair and feels at peace. He’s gained more than he has lost.
“So, why are we here?” Hyunjin asks, poking Jeongin’s side playfully.
Jeongin squirms to the other side but not away, still effectively caging Hyunjin without actually doing it. “Because— Hey—” He slaps Hyunjin’s hand away when he tries to poke him again. “Because,” he repeats with a short chuckle disturbing his speech when he has to swat Hyunjin one more time, “I thought you might’ve needed a private place after your talk.”
Something warm melts right at the centre of Hyunjin’s heart. How can someone know you for so little yet so well?
Suddenly, Hyunjin feels the true weight of his emotions fall on him fully, the build up of disappointment and sadness, the knot in his throat and the tears stinging his eyes.
Maybe it is the alcohol. Maybe the cake was spoiled?
“Is it pathetic if I cry?”
When Jeongin says no, quietly, gently, like it’s the normalest thing, the dams break. Hyunjin’s tears fall slowly, not requiring any energy from him but rather like they were waiting patiently to be let out after more than a month. He cries mostly for himself, for how much hope he had and for the hope that died with time, for every moment he could’ve enjoyed and spent obsessing over himself, pondering, wondering what was wrong. And Jeongin dries every tear with gentle touches, even though Hyunjin hangs his head low to hide his face, even though his fingers are getting wet.
Hyunjin sniffles weakly when he’s done, taking in a deep breath. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed. “That’s it,” he says, bashful.
Jeongin tucks strands of hair away for him and runs his thumbs under Hyunjin’s eyes with an attentive gaze in his dark brown irises.
“That was the quietest weeping I’ve ever seen,” he jokes lightly, succeeding in making Hyunjin laugh. Hyunjin can spot the pride in his expression, a little ‘I made it’ painted over his lips that curl up in a mischievous smile.
“Thank you, you’re invited to the next one aswell.”
“What an honor.”
Hyunjin laughs, his wet vision dancing between Jeongin’s blushing cheeks and his dimples. There’s little lines just by the outer corner of his eyes, Hyunjin likes how they crinkle whenever Jeongin smiles, whether it’s out of happiness or something sly and mischievous.
“Now you’re stealing my lines,” Hyunjin sighs, rolling his eyes to add a dramatic effect to it all.
Jeongin thumbs at the corners of Hyunjin’s eyes one last time before wiping his hands on his pants. “Yeah, sorry, I’m trying my best as your jester.”
“Hey.”
Jeongin looks up at the sound of Hyunjin’s voice, pretty eyelashes fluttering.
“Thank you.”
For a second, Hyunjin thinks of kissing him. He blames the cake.
→♡ɞ
Innie 🎹💗:
Hey are you still at dance practice?
I got sexiled
Hyunjin chuckles around the tip of his water bottle and decides to leave it on the floor for the moment. He slumps more against the wall of the practice room and pushes his sweaty hair off his forehead.
Me:
binnie hyung is at your place again?
Innie 🎹💗:
It’s the fourth weekend in a row >:(
Me:
spring is the season of love ;)
Innie 🎹💗:
He should pay rent
Not that I don’t like him
Sorry :(
He’s a fun hyung really
Hyunjin snorts to himself and quickly writes an answer before Jeongin can spiral.
Me:
don’t worry innie ahah
i understand
where are you and seungminnie going this time?
The other dancers are starting to stretch again, Hyunjin should quickly get up from the floor and remove his hoodie for the rest of their practice. However he still sits on the floor, biting on his lip.
Innie 🎹💗:
So…
Actually
Can I come?
Please
Me:
i have an hour left
you should come pick me up
Innie 🎹💗:
I’m on my way!!
We still have to take the bus though ahah
“Hyunjin-a!” Yeji’s voice echoes in the room. She looks at him through the mirror’s reflection, motioning him to get up.
Me:
that’s okay :)
It’s later at night when Jeongin leaves his duffel bag and backpack by the end of Hyunjin’s bed. Hyunjin’s still in his dance practice clothes, beanie pulled over his head to save him from the spring breeze and protect him from a possible cold since he has left the dance studio. He’s busy clearing some space over his dresser in the corner in case Jeongin needs it — he keeps saying he doesn’t, Hyunjin knows he’s doing it just to be polite — before jumping into the shower.
Since the night of his birthday, Felix and Changbin have entered a honeymoon phase. They’re all the other talks about and it’s very sweet from Hyunjin’s perspective, a little less from Seungmin and Jeongin’s who have been making up plans for the past three weekends to not hear ‘private’ sounds at night. Or early in the morning. Or in the afternoons.
Last weekend, Jeongin organized a little trip to Busan to visit his parents and Seungmin coincidentally ended up on the same train as him. Each weekend their escapes have become more and more evident, honestly they’re lucky Felix’s head is currently too Changbin-focused to notice.
“He’s the love of my life,” Felix told Hyunjin after seeing Changbin only a second time since that fateful night they’d first met, freckles enhanced by the blush on his cheeks and stars in his eyes.
Seungmin laughed and pointed the straw of his coffee first at Felix and then at Jeongin. “Did you bonk heads together and swapped?” Then he leaned into Hyunjin’s side and quietly said, “You know, Ayeni is usually the hopeless romantic one.”
Hyunjin looks down at the right side of the top of his dresser, successfully clear of things, and nods to himself. Even though he was quick and efficient in his task, he feels something is missing and ponders over whether he should free a drawer too for Jeongin, so he won’t have to reach for his duffel bag for three days.
“Hey,” he calls, another thought popping up in his mind, Jeongin acknowledges him with a simple hum. “Why do your friends call you ‘Ayeni’?”
“Ah, there’s this game we play,” Jeongin says sitting down on Hyunjin’s bed, “it’s kind of like League of Legends and my nickname is I.N.”
“Nerdy,” Hyunjin comments as he starts moving a couple of sweaters from the first to the second drawer. He pushes them so they can fit.
Jeongin kicks him playfully on the shin, or at least tries for what he can reach from his seating position. “Hey.”
The touch makes Hyunjin turn to look at him fully. “What is it, Ayeni?” he teases, stepping closer. The way Jeongin’s legs open to make him some space makes Hyunjin feel dizzy.
He’s cute today, all pouty and comfortable clothes at least two sizes bigger than him, his hair wavy. Hyunjin’s priorities get pushed aside as he cups one of Jeongin’s cheeks with his hand and tilts his head slightly higher.
“Are you…” Jeongin’s voice is quiet and falters at the end, checking.
“I actually need a shower,” Hyunjin realizes. He still doesn’t move though, looking down at Jeongin and feeling the skin close to the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “I danced for hours.”
Jeongin’s knees close at the side of Hyunjin’s legs, not tight enough to stop him if he’d ever want to step back but enough to tell a silent ‘stay.’
“You should show me sometimes.”
“Me dancing?”
“Mh,” Jeongin hums positively, “it’s unfair you’ve seen me playing and I don’t know what you look like when you dance.”
Hyunjin feels a fond chuckle tickle his throat, yet he doesn’t laugh, just smirks and finally reaches for Jeongin’s bottom lip with his thumb. When Jeongin wraps his lips around it, cheeks flushed and eyes never leaving Hyunjin’s own, the gates of heaven open.
“I really have to shower,” Hyunjin groans.
Jeongin leans back on the covers, hands pushing down the pillowy comforter that Hyunjin should switch for a lighter one. Is it really already a new season? And then nods at Hyunjin. “Go.”
It takes every fiber of Hyunjin’s being to take a step back and head towards his bathroom, to not lean down and just kiss Jeongin and let go, not care about anything. He takes a quick shower, discarding the idea of drying his hair if not by rubbing a towel on them for a couple of seconds and walks out his bathroom in just a towel.
Jeongin’s still there, jacket now off, scrolling down his phone casually — merely a show, Hyunjin can see the way his posture shifts when the bathroom door opens, the tips of his ears a shade of burning red.
He looks up only when Hyunjin’s a step away from him and drops his phone on the bed, looking up.
“You were fast.”
Hyunjin doesn’t waste a second in kissing him. They climb up the bed with their lips locked, Jeongin’s hands tugging at the towel that Hyunjin tucked maybe a bit too good, groaning when he can’t remove it in one swift motion, Hyunjin laughing against his lips. They fall into their rhythm easily, clumsily as always with Jeongin’s hands dropping the lube by mistake, naturally in the way Hyunjin wants to lean for another kiss repeatedly.
Jeongin’s fingers tangle in Hyunjin’s hair while Hyunjin draws imaginary lines over his chest with his lips, following each goosebumps, feeling every sharp breath that Jeongin takes in when Hyunjin pushes another finger inside of him.
“You should’ve come here the other weekends too,” Hyunjin whispers over his skin.
Jeongin cries out at the stretch, pretty lips parting and eyes closing. “Fuck, hyung— Hyunjinnie.” His hold tightens in Hyunjin’s damp hair and Hyunjin knows he’s hit a spot.
“Here?” He curls his fingers again, curious. The sighs that drop from Jeongin’s lips sound like poetry to him, even though they’re incoherent, even though they're barely pronounced words. “Can you come just like this?”
Jeongin shakes his head helplessly, leg falling from where it was hiked up and a sob choking him as Hyunjin hits the spot over and over.
“Do I stop?” Hyunjin checks, scooting up the bed to look at Jeongin closely.
Wet eyelashes and parted lips, Jeongin tilts his chin to ask for a kiss, silently and shyly. He reaches down with his hand as their lips touch, pushing Hyunjin’s hand and his fingers deeper inside himself. “Please,” he breathes out. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Hyunjin asks even though he knows the answer.
Jeongin doesn’t have room to chuckle, he sobs instead, shy and flushed all over. By his little cry Hyunjin knows Jeongin’s struggling to speak, and so he kisses his temple and taps the tip of his nose on it.
“Don’t stop,” Jeongin sighs, eyes screw shut and hands still tight around Hyunjin — one in his hair, one on his wrist. “Keep going, hyung, please— Pl—”
His voice breaks in a choked up moan as his hips chase Hyunjin’s fingers when he drags them out and then thrusts inside him again. Pretty beautiful lips, soft damp eyelashes and his simple cotton scent that Hyunjin can never get enough of, Jeongin’s the perfect piece of art in Hyunjin’s studio apartment. Hyunjin traces the curve of his neck with his lips as words fall from them without any filter, asking Jeongin to let go, telling him how good he is being for him — always. Never bad. Not even once.
Jeongin doesn’t forget meetups, cinema tickets or the places Hyunjin suggests for a meal out. He answers texts and calls at least within a couple of hours from the last one when he couldn’t answer, he remembers to call back, always a soft ‘Hyung’ leaving his lips when Hyunjin picks up the phone. Jeongin’s never hurt his feelings and Hyunjin hopes, as he presses a kiss at the base of Jeongin’s jawline, that he’ll never hurt Jeongin’s.
“Are you there, baby?”
“Come here.”
It’s a simple tug, yet Hyunjin feels like his whole being is being pulled along with his hair as Jeongin drags him into a final kiss.
→♡ɞ
It might be spring, but the weather still likes to surprise sometimes. The thunderstorm going on outside is loud and strong, rain and wind hitting the windows in the dark of the night. Hyunjin has raised the temperature on the thermostat after pushing his laundry in the drier, trying to trick his mind into thinking that the weather is finally stable and warmer.
On his coffee table there’s an array of papers, a small portable keyboard and two long forgotten cups of tea that have gone cold. Hyunjin reminds himself to pick them up later and sits down on the sofa, looking from afar at Jeongin sitting on the opposite end, laptop on his thighs and fingers torturing his earlobe as he reads something.
“What is it?” He asks, poking Jeongin’s naked thigh to get his attention. He looks so focused.
“Huh?” Jeongin startles. Cute. “Ah, it’s nothing,” he dismisses, picking up his laptop to leave it on top of the coffee table, a little bit to the side enough to not fall and not crumple his music sheets. “A job offer.”
Hyunjin scoots closer but not too much, leaving Jeongin room in case he doesn’t want Hyunjin to see. To his surprise, Jeongin picks up the laptop again and turns it to Hyunjin the moment he notices his interest.
It’s an e-mail, simple formatting, a lot of words that compliment Jeongin’s talent on his graduation performance and how they saved all his contact in case a position in their small orchestra freed. Now that it did, they want him, if he’s willing to take the opportunity into consideration of course.
“This is— great, wow,” Hyunjin says after reading until the last greetings. “Are you going to the meeting?”
Next Tuesday, five p.m. He should go, it’s a great opportunity, but Hyunjin holds back his words to not put pressure on him.
“I could,” Jeongin says, timid. He bites on his bottom lip and “I don’t know,” he mutters.
Hyunjin looks at him as he closes the laptop and puts it aside.
“What is it?”
“I’m shitting myself.”
“That’s quite impossible,” Hyunjin chuckles, fixing the blanket so it covers Jeongin’s legs properly. He’s still in his boxers and a baggy t-shirt, kind of delicious but that’s not the current most important issue. He could get cold. “You douched in my bathroom like an hour ago.”
Jeongin groans and emits a loud fake disgusted noise, bursting into a laugh right after. “Never joke like this again.”
Hyunjin giggles as he leans in and runs a hand through Jeongin’s messy hair. “They want you,” he reminds him. “They’ve been keeping an eye on you for months, and asked the institute for your contacts after your final exam. That’s big.”
Jeongin accepts the touch as if it annoys him before leaning into it, feeling Hyunjin’s fingers fixing a strand of hair that didn’t need fixing at all. Hyunjin’s just incredibly fond of Jeongin, that’s it, an undeniable truth.
“They travel through the whole country. Abroad too.”
“Isn’t that great?” Hyunjin checks. He can see the insecurity in Jeongin’s eyes and the wavering of his pupils. They make him wonder about what he’s thinking and what his fears and worries are.
“Hyung.”
“Should I stop? We can drop it if you—”
“No, no, just—” Jeongin hesitates for a second like he’s going to utter something monumental, but, “Thank you,” he just says, with a tone so fragile Hyunjin’s never heard before.
“I’m not doing anything,” Hyunjin says back, quietly. It doesn’t feel like the right moment to speak over a certain volume, as if he fears any louder sound could break Jeongin. “It’s all you.”
The storm is still going outside, loud thunders and lightnings filtering through the thin curtains in front of Hyunjin’s windows. Their presence however doesn’t feel as impactful as Jeongin’s arms wrapping around Hyunjin and holding him tightly while he hides his face in the crook of his neck. Jeongin breathes in like he hasn’t breathed in a couple of minutes, warm air hitting Hyunjin’s skin.
Hyunjin holds him close. The blanket is bunching up in between their bodies and the positions of their knees is uncomfortable, but he cherishes the moment in his heart and forgets all the rest.
“I still hate hugs,” Jeongin sulks into his neck.
“Of course,” Hyunjin chuckles, patting his back.
None of them addresses how Jeongin never really moves too much from his position for the rest of the night, cuddled to Hyunjin’s side until his head falls on Hyunjin’s shoulder and the storm has stopped. Hyunjin looks down at their intertwined hands and decides that it’s better not to think, to not think of looking for a daisy tomorrow just to rip its petals, and closes his eyes too.
→♡ɞ
“You need an intervention,” Minho says, the hint of a cheeky growing smirk at the corners of his lips.
Changbin trashes a bit on the sofa as he groans. “I do not!” Next to him, Chan looks at them as if it’s the most entertaining scene he’s ever witnessed.
Hyunjin bites onto a chip and chews before supporting Minho. “You kind of do,” he nods, a giggle escaping him when Minho looks at him with complicity.
The living room in Chan’s apartment has a very cozy new setup, the carpet soft and comfortable under them as they sit around his coffee table. Jisung is too busy diving into the chicken to add something to the conversation, or maybe he’s giving Minho space to check his teasing Changbin task that has been left undone for weeks — Changbin has been quite difficult to catch recently, honeymoon phase and all. Hyunjin’s the one who has seen Changbin more often, gravitating around Felix as if he was the earth revolving around the sun.
And Hyunjin, well, has been gravitating in Jeongin’s space quite often.
“Whatever,” Changbin sulks, picking up his beer to take a sip. “You should know what this stage of love feels like.”
While Minho giggles, cheeks turning a tender shade of pink, Jisung chokes on the food he was swallowing down. The memory of their first year of dating is still clear in everyone’s minds as they made it everyone’s problem — Jisung yapping into their ears whenever he had a chance about what Minho did and Minho said and a lot of ‘Oh, did you see Minho hyung today?’ while Minho was having love-related mental breakdowns in Chan and Changbin’s old shared apartment. Very sweet.
“It isn’t even that bad,” Changbin shrugs.
“Seungmin slept on my couch the past two weekends,” Chan points out.
There’s a cacophony of sounds, gasps and ‘huhs’ uttered too loudly in shock. Chan looks around the table with surprised eyes and Hyunjin isn’t sure who he wants to fool with that innocent I did nothing expression, as Chan’s blush is way out of control.
“What? He just needed a place to stay.”
“He has parents in Seoul,” Minho points out, cat eyes setting on him.
“And I have a huge new couch,” Chan reasons as if it makes sense. “Sometimes visiting your parents isn’t the preferred weekend plan, that’s it.”
The last sentence leaves something unspoken that all of them seem to understand not to poke at. There are several ways in which Chan sets walls, and right now it’s the one where he tries to not make it a big deal but it clearly is — a warning sign not to trespass.
Hyunjin thinks of asking Jeongin, to understand whether the wall is being raised to protect Chan or Seungmin, and if there’s something to worry about or Chan is just being his reserved self.
“Where has Jeongin been staying?” Jisung asks casually, switching topic just a little.
“Oh, at mine,” Hyunjin answers just as casually. Because he is casual, casual Hyunjin, the improved version. He doesn’t even know what Jeongin is up to right now, casual.
Surprisingly, nobody teases him about it, and the conversation shifts to other topics from work to new music and movies and that new bowling alley that opened last month and they yet haven’t found the time to go all together. Changbin suggests that Felix and his friends could come over too and everyone nods along, Hyunjin with a little something bubbling in his chest, Chan following last to the agreement.
It’s way later, one horror movie after, that Hyunjin finds himself sitting on top of the toilet seat cover in Chan’s bathroom, phone in his hands.
Me:
what are you up to right now?
He looks down at his screen, biting onto his bottom lip over and over.
Innie 🎹💗:
I’m walking back home from practice
The team’s great :)
Me:
that’s nice! i’m glad you’re liking the job!!
Innie 🎹💗:
You?
Me:
i’m at channie hyung’s place
we watched a horror movie ㅠㅠ
did you know seungmin has been staying here the past weekends?
Innie 🎹💗:
Yes
It’s a bit complicated haha
Me:
are we not? |
Hyunjin furiously clicks on the backspace before pressing send, deleting his original text. What is wrong with him?
Me:
yeah i sensed it
For a moment Hyunjin thinks of kissing Jeongin on his kitchen counter while drinking coffee in the morning, of Jeongin teaching him how to read the latest sheet of music he has been scribbling on the whole afternoon guiding his fingers on the keys, of hugs at sunset with the warm light hitting the corner of the bed they’re cuddled on. Him and Jeongin have stopped sharing just nights way too long ago.
Is it actually casual?
Has it ever been?
Innie 🎹💗:
Was the movie scary?
Should I come pick you up? :P
Hyunjin takes in a breath and stands up, walking around Chan’s bathroom with a knot weighting on his chest.
He stops by the bathtub and sits down again on its edge. He doesn’t feel a single spark of the tingling sensation flirting and teasing with Jeongin always gives him, only strong nausea.
Tonight, he hasn’t eaten any cake and a beer is too little to blame his sudden anxiety to it.
Me:
it’s okay changbinnie hyung will drive me home
Jeongin’s text bubble appears and disappears a couple of times.
Innie 🎹💗:
Okay ^^
Have a good night hyung <3
Me:
you too |
Hyunjin fingers linger on the screen.
Me:
you too innie <3
sleep well
→♡ɞ
Jeongin bites on his nail as he tries to control his breathing. There’s something wrong with their meeting today, he can feel it, he has been feeling it for a while. No, not things being wrong, but too good to be true.
Hyunjin who has the likes of an angel and the laugh that’s the expression of pure joy and who was crying silently on Valentine’s night and Jeongin glanced at maybe a bit too many times. Hyunjin who he can talk to about everything, even the parts of his life that Jeongin would rather hide from the world, who listens and cares. Hyunjin who is so—
Late.
The clock on the wall signs the passage of another minute, fifteen in total now, and Hyunjin still hasn’t entered the cafe they were supposed to meet at. He was the one to schedule their hangout too, and Jeongin should’ve noticed the first anomaly at it being in the middle of the day rather than at night. He and Hyunjin meet only at night.
Or used to. Before Jeongin started staying the weekends, before he started learning how to use Hyunjin’s espresso machine and how Hyunjin’s lips feel against his at sunrise. The softness of a kiss, the warm feeling spreading in his chest that Jeongin tries his best to ignore every time they’re standing too close.
“I told you it was a bad idea, you’re a romantic at heart,” Seungmin told him two weeks ago when Jeongin couldn’t keep everything in anymore. He’s still not sure what made him crash right in front of his friends — he knew Seungmin's pointed answer would’ve come and would’ve annoyed him.
Felix slapped his arm lightly to reprimand him. “Seungminnie, be kind,” he hissed.
Seungmin shrugged his shoulders. “I’m being just honest.”
“No, you’re being too blunt.”
“It’s okay,” Jeongin sighed, annoyed because “You were right,” he had to say to Seungmin right after.
Jeongin stops biting on his nail when the bell on top of the front door chimes. His heart skips a beat and he does his best to not turn around. It could not be Hyunjin and it could hurt him to not see him yet, or it could be and he could look too eager, freak Hyunjin out.
A bag drops on the seat in front of him.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Hyunjin heaves, hair messy and already quickly taking off his jacket. He looks like he has run from his disheveled look and his blushing cheeks. Not that Hyunjin could ever look bad, that’s quite impossible. “The bus driver started arguing with someone at a bus stop and I— Hi. Sorry.” He smiles, embarrassment flushing his skin.
He hangs his bag to the back of the chair and sits down, taking a look at Jeongin. The wake of his gaze makes Jeongin feel goosebumps on his skin.
“It’s fine,” Jeongin reassures him. “I’ve waited for you to order.”
“Oh, cool,” Hyunjin exhales. “We’re— Where’s the waiter?” He turns to look around and there’s something almost… frenzy about him, like he’s holding a hundred volt of electricity under his skin.
Jeongin worries if they’re meeting because something bad has happened to him or if he’s overwhelmed with stress from his new dance studio schedule and all his other friends are busy when he needs a distraction. Not that he doesn’t usually call Jeongin to talk, to vent or tell him about his day and update him on small things like the puppy he saw at the park or the fact he bought apples instead of strawberries. Hyunjin and Jeongin talk a lot about everything, anything, so seeing Hyunjin like this right now makes Jeongin feel tight in his own skin.
He’d like to do something, but Hyunjin is already telling his order to the waitress that came to their table and Jeongin’s turn is quite right now. Shit.
“An iced americano,” he mumbles quickly. “And a… uhm… slice of cake?” His stomach feels tied into a double knot, however not ordering anything would be odd since they’re out on a— hangout?
The waitress lists the cakes to Jeongin, doing a perfect job, while Jeongin’s head is so stuck on wondering what is going on that he can’t remember a thing once she’s done. So, “The last one,” he says, trying to sound confident and not out of place.
He hopes he didn’t sound weird.
“I didn’t know you liked carrot cake,” Hyunjin says as he plays with the tissue holder on top of the table. He glances up at Jeongin and then back down, like locking eyes for too long is prohibited.
Jeongin didn’t even know what he was ordering, but if he knew he definitely wouldn’t have ordered that kind of cake. Hyunjin doesn’t like it, so they can’t share.
“Ah, I was…” Jeongin’s voice falters as an uncomfortable awkward chuckle escapes him. He’s never been good with hiding things. “I’m sorry, hyung, are you okay?”
Hyunjin startles at the question, missing his hold on the tissue holder and making it fall on its side. “Me?” He asks, tone oddly higher than usual, fingers frenetically trying to put everything in place. “I’m fine.”
And Jeongin isn’t stupid, he looks, memorizes, files every little detail of what he finds interesting and Hyunjin has been interesting since his eyes have fallen on him while he was busy playing the piano and Hyunjin was wiping his silent tears on Valentine’s night. So he knows the way Hyunjin’s eyebrows twitch lightly when he lies, or that he doesn’t avoid eye contact this much, ever.
Hyunjin’s deep brown eyes were the reason why Jeongin avoided eye contact the first time they shared a bed, too warm, too sweet in the gentle way they land on something — or someone. Not being looked at right now is killing him.
“Hyung,” he tries again, this time with a less shy tone. Listen to me. Look at me.
“Jeonginnie,” Hyunjin exhales in a soft, almost broken voice, “I’m going to say something.” The silence between them is deafening, all the background noise vanishes when Hyunjin looks up, finally, and keeps his eyes on Jeongin. “I think we should stop.”
They should… stop?
Jeongin’s afraid of his next question.
“Why?”
Asking ‘what’ would’ve been playing dumb.
“Because we—” Hyunjin’s lips close shut, his pupils tremble. “This isn’t casual anymore, isn’t it?”
Jeongin feels like he’s just been charged with a crime. He knows he is. He knows he likes kissing Hyunjin way past the sexual undertone of it. He likes holding him in his sleep, feeling the softness of his hair, kissing the tip of his nose when he feels particularly vulnerable and safe to let out his affection.
Affection Jeongin shouldn’t have.
He was waiting for the right moment to process all these feelings and think what to do or say, he was planning on it because Jeongin is a planner. He is a J, Hyunjin always reminds him with a little laugh that tickles Jeongin’s insides every time.
Silence stretches as Jeongin feels frozen, all lights on him.
“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin suddenly says. “I’m—” He drops his head down into his hands and then looks up after a breath, running his fingers through his already messy hair. “Sorry,” he apologizes again.
“Hyunjinnie,” Jeongin exhales, trying to stop him from apologizing.
Hyunjin startles at the sound of his name. There’s a thin line of wetness in the rim of his eyes and Jeongin feels… hurt, but differently than before. He hurts for Hyunjin.
What is going on? Is the weight of someone else’s feelings so painful for him? Jeongin thinks of keying Sungil’s car for real.
“Why are you crying?”
Hyunjin diverts his gaze and runs his fingers under his eyes quickly. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, mumbling. He shakes his head and looks out the window. “I didn’t mean to.”
“To what?”
Jeongin sees that look in Hyunjin’s eyes, the one he has when he’s on the line between wanting to close down and keep things to himself and wanting to speak. And as always Jeongin doesn’t press when he sees Hyunjin so vulnerable, as he himself knows how difficult it is to speak out your own worries.
“We can stop,” Jeongin reassures him softly, “there’s no need to apologize.” Even though his heart cracks at letting Hyunjin go.
He just wants Hyunjin to feel comfortable and safe.
“No, I…” Hyunjin shakes his head again and lets out a long sigh. “I’m…”
Around them, people from the nearby tables have started looking, curious about their conversation.
The only one who isn’t looking at Jeongin is Hyunjin himself.
“Hyunjinnie.”
“Ah, stop that,” Hyunjin sighs. “You can’t call me like that, it’s cruel.”
“Cruel..?”
Jeongin’s chest feels hollow. He can hear his own voice crack and it makes him cringe.
“It makes me think you like me and I feel pathetic,” Hyunjin blurts out. “I thought I could be casual and I tried, I really tried, but I can’t. I catch feelings and I plugged the petals of a daisy yesterday, that’s who I am. I'm not casual.”
Suddenly, Jeongin starts breathing properly again. The cracks in his heart mend themselves and the urgency under his skin settles into something more warm, sweet, comfortable.
“What did the last petal say?”
Hyunjin looks up, eyebrows scrunched in a frown and eyes squaring on him. “That you liked me back,” he says, almost offended that Jeongin has dared to ask.
Jeongin isn’t the type to show affection in public, he’s shy and reserved and it makes his skin burn and embarrassed chuckles bubbling up his throat but right now he really wishes he could get up and round the table to kiss Hyunjin.
“It was right.”
The expression on Hyunjin’s face falls, eyelids rapidly blinking at him. “Oh,” he breathes out, blush creeping up on his cheeks. “You—”
“Here’s your coffees,” a cup gets gently placed on the table in front of Hyunjin by a waiter, startling them both. Jeongin quickly blurts out a ‘thank you’ as his coffee gets placed in front of him too. “And cake,” the waiter adds with a smile.
A quiet silence falls between them as the waiter walks back to the counter with his empty tray, Jeongin and Hyunjin both looking down at their order.
Then, in almost a whisper, Hyunjin talks.
“I can’t believe you got carrot cake,” he says.
“Ah?” Jeongin looks up, surprised. “I wasn't really listening when I got it.”
Hyunjin, pretty and still with watery eyes, stifles his laugh into the palm of his hand, looking away as he does so. A beautiful symphony that Jeongin ponders how to put down in notes on a music sheet.
All the tension in Hyunjin’s body unknots right in front of him as Jeongin watches him wipe the corners of his eyes with his sleeve and sigh at the end of his giggling. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, “it’s inconsiderate of me to laugh. Sorry.”
“Oh no, please, keep going,” Jeongin says, amused, inviting him with the gesture of a hand.
Hyunjin smiles, lighting up the whole room. “So the daisy was right?”
“You should start trusting them more, since you plug their petals off,” Jeongin teases as he bumps the tip of his shoe against Hyunjin’s own under the table. “You owe them that.”
On top of the surface, Hyunjin extends his hand searching for Jeongin’s own, wiggling his fingers. It’s a cute simple gesture that makes Jeongin’s heart race out of happiness.
“You’re right.”
“I always am,” Jeongin jokes freely, dancing on the feeling of reaching out for Hyunjin’s hand.
Hyunjin chuckles. “Except when you ordered this cake.”
“Oh God,” Jeongin groans, looking away. His cheeks feel on fire. Actually, his whole body does. “I was worried about you, I couldn’t think.”
“Thank you,” Hyunjin says softly, the nth cupid’s arrow to Jeongin’s heart. Jeongin’s about to tell him that he shouldn’t be thanked at all, but Hyunjin talks first. “For caring so much, always.”
Jeongin feels the smooth surface of the ring on Hyunjin’s index finger with his thumb. “Of course I do. It’s normal, hyung.” How deeply cracked is Hyunjin’s heart? Jeongin’s own feels a sudden punch.
“I know,” Hyunjin says. “Just let me thank you once,” he insists as he gently pinches Jeongin’s hand to reprimand him playfully.
“Okay,” Jeongin chuckles.
Comfortable silence, the warmth of their feeling dancing between them, it seems like spring has finally settled in.
Hyunjin glances down again and Jeongin holds back a laugh. “We’re getting another one, stop trying to erase it with your eyes.”
An even deeper blush settles on Hyunjin’s already rosy cheeks. “With strawberries,” he still demands, only a bit bashful.
“Of course, Hyunjinnie,” Jeongin says teasingly, pushing through his usual public shyness to reach a specific aim. The smile on Hyunjin’s lips is worth it.