This Night Together - Chapter Fourteen (j.yh + S.mg)

this night together - chapter fourteen (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter fourteen: what we mean to each other

chapter summary: making amends is hard, moving on is hard, but you have a home now in a way you've never had before. together, you move forward through it all.

warnings/notes: this chapter still deals with the aftermath of the attack, so all previous warnings apply, but i think you'll see we're coming out of it now and into much happier times. this is the start of an absolute fluff fest, and we'll be back to smut in the next chapter. specific warnings for: discussions of physical attack, anxiety, ptsd, consent conversations, past s*xual assault (mentioned in passing), issues with police and the legal system because lbr the cops aren't doing anything good for assault victims, and reader has a triggering moment with her neck but she works through it just fine

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 14.3k

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It’s been days. Days of staying safe behind the walls of their apartment, days of dodging calls from your friends, days of cocooned self preservation. They haven’t left you for a single minute. You spent the weekend trading off who’s lap you were cuddled on and bickering over episodes of Single’s Inferno and you’ve never needed anything more. 

Slowly though, things start to shift. 

You’re showered, for one. And Yunho and Mingi both have settled back into their routines as best they can without leaving the apartment. Video games, mindless scrolling, paging through books and cooking balanced meals instead of another day of takeout. 

On Monday, Seonghwa confirms your worst suspicions by texting you a photo of the formal letter he received via Minseok’s attorney. You expect Yunho and Mingi’s are in the mail. Every time your phone chimes you expect it to be the police or some other official legal summons. Your mind has started to turn over every detail of the event with calculated detail, and your internet history stretches long with research. 

By Tuesday, you’ve caved and finally started answering Wooyoung’s texts with more than just single word responses or emoji confirmations that you’re still alive. The moment you do, he takes the opening and runs with it just like you knew he would. 

As you wait for the hot water for your tea to boil in the kettle, you re-read his most recent text again. 

Do you want to get out of the house for a bit? We can try that new spot by the bookstore?

Your stomach feels tight at the idea of going out and you do your best to tap out a reply that you think sounds casual and relaxed - Maybe next time, let’s just catch up and relax here? 

You watch the message send and deliver and in nearly real-time it flicks over to read. Dots appear as he types. 

Sure - his message reads - I’ll be there in an hour

An hour. You shouldn’t be so nervous to see your best friend, but the idea of opening up your little sanctuary to anyone right now feels a little fraught. The kettle whistles, and you hear feet shuffling against the vinyl flooring as Yunho crosses over into the kitchen and you lock your phone and Wooyoung’s messages away so you can focus. 

“Hey,” You murmur, giving him a smile as you pull the kettle off the heat. 

“Hey,” Yunho smiles back, leaning against the opposite counter, “everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” You tell him, just a little white lie. 

“Is Woo still coming by?” He questions.  

“Yeah,” You nod, setting the kettle on a pad so it doesn’t damage the countertop, “he said around an hour,” 

Yunho nods and then slides a bit closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your back once until he settles it on your hip. “Hey,” he says again, “can we talk?”

A nervous pang strikes in your gut, but he doesn’t look upset, so you take a guess at what he wants, “Is it okay that he’s coming?” 

“Wooyoung?” His brows draw together, “Of course, that’s not what I meant,” 

“Oh,” You turn towards him more fully, leaning against the counter with him, “okay, what’s up?” 

“I want to apologize,” He says, swallowing tightly. 

“Apologize,” You blink. 

He nods. 

“Okay,” You can see how whatever he’s about to say is bothering him, the stress under the surface, but you have no idea what he’s sorry for. 

“Listen,” He reaches and takes your hand, pulling you a little closer to him, “I know you know I’m sorry, but I haven’t said it clearly and you deserve that,” 

“Oh,” You relax further into his space until you can feel your bodies brushing together, the warmth radiating off his skin. 

“The way I reacted at the studio after your last heat was wrong,” He says in a rush of air as he laces your hands together, “and I haven’t gotten the chance to really say that,” 

“It’s okay,” You shake your head, soothing him a little, “you don’t have to,” 

“No,” He insists with a squeeze of your fingers, “I do. That day, I was worried and jealous and confused, but I let my anger get the better of me and that’s not something I normally do.”

You squeeze his fingers back, letting him know you’re listening. 

His eyes flick up from your joined hands to your eyes as he continues, “It’s not something I should have ever put on you or something you should ever see,” 

“People get angry,” You start to say. 

He’s firm when he shakes his head, “People get angry, but I don’t get angry at you. Ever.” 

“Yunho,” 

“I yelled at you,” He squeezes your hands, “I cursed at you,” 

“I did the same thing right back,” You remind him. 

“It’s not the same,” He presses, brushing right past your words, “and I’m apologizing because I’m telling you, y/n, it will never happen again.” 

“You think we’ll never have a fight?” You smile, “That’s optimistic,” 

“This isn’t a joke,” He sighs, “please,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tuck closer to him, unlacing your hands so you can snake your arms around his middle, “and I appreciate you apologizing for that fight, but I was upset you were being possessive and emotional after all the cold shoulder, you yelling wasn’t really high on my list of concerns,” 

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he nods, “I’ll get to that in a second, but will you hear me on this one thing?” 

“I’m listening,” 

“I hate to bring it up again,” He grimaces a little, “but I’ve just spent four days watching you jump at every noise around the apartment and wake up every night fucking terrified,” 

Your eyes shoot down. 

“And before I apologize for all the other ways I’ve been an ass to you,” His warm hands settle on your skin, thumb brushing along your jaw, “of which I know there are many,” 

You smile at that. 

“Yelling at you like that,” He sighs, “talking to you like that has been bothering me for months. I need to apologize for it because I need you to know that you’ll never, ever hear it again. Mingi said his peace, but it’s important to me that you know you’re safe with me in every way. If we’re going to do this, I need you to know you can tell me anything, including telling me off when I make mistakes, and I won’t get angry like that again.” 

“I already know that,” You look up, meeting his firm gaze and reaching for his cheek, “and I hope you understand that I know the difference between how you were angry then and what he did and how he spoke to me.” 

“I just had to say it,” He nods, “I would hate it if anything I ever did made you afraid to be honest with me, or made you feel like you’ve been feeling the past few days, I’d never,” 

“Baby,” You cup his cheeks in both hands, holding his eyes so he hears you fully, “I forgive you, and I am not afraid or uncomfortable with you or with Mingi. Not at all.” 

“Good,” He exhales hard, his eyes a little shiny and you press forward to wrap your arms around him and hug him close, his arms closing around your back. 

“If you’re being idiots,” You kiss his chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, “I’ll tell you you’re being idiots,” 

He laughs low, the vibration running through your chest, “Good.” 

“And if I’m being an idiot,” You add, “I’m not going to freak out if you get pissed at me or yell at me,” 

“I appreciate that,” He squeezes your shoulders, “but I don’t want to be the guy that yells, that’s not really an alpha stereotype I’ve ever wanted to fit.” 

“Okay,” You nod against him. 

He clears his throat a little roughly and you’re about to pull away but he holds you steady for a moment, “There’s one more thing,” 

Your hand strokes a line down his back, as you hum softly, “Hmm?” 

“I have more to say and to apologize for,” You can feel his heart beating a little faster under your cheek and you stroke his back again, “but I’m still figuring out how to do that, and it might not be fair of me to ask, but I wanted to see if you can be patient with me for that.” 

“Yunho,” You murmur, “what’s going on?” 

“I, uh,” His fingers flex tightly against your skin, “I started seeing someone,”

“Someone?”

“Professionally,” He adds, “Mingi used to and I know it helped. I didn’t think I needed to, but I think we can both agree I am not the best at managing my own emotions here,” 

“Oh,” 

“So,” He breathes, “after our fight, when I finally cooled off and realized what we did I asked him for a referral. I’ve been meeting with her once a week and it’s been helpful, but I’m not ready to apologize to you for the rest of it until I understand why I treated you like that,” 

Emotion fills your chest like a balloon and you nod into him, “Yunho,” 

He clears his throat again, “Sorry,” he says, “this is a little uncomfortable for me to talk about, but I’m working on it,” 

You wriggle out of his arms to find his face again and press up on your tiptoes to catch his mouth, kissing him with as much surety as you can before you lean back, “That means everything to me,” you tell him, “everything. You have all the time in the world from me, okay?” 

“Yeah,” He smiles, “good, okay,” 

“Is it helping?” 

“Definitely,” He nods, “it’s almost like the professionals know what they’re talking about,” 

You smile up at him. 

“I know I mentioned it before,” He adds quickly, “and I won’t press it, but if you do feel like it would be helpful for you too, you can come to me and I can ask my therapist for some numbers for you to call. I’ll even help set up an appointment if you need that,” 

Your chest goes tight at the thought, “I’ll let you know,” 

“Okay,” He smooths a hand up and down your back, “no pressure,” 

“For sure,” You manage. 

His lip quirks up and he presses a long kiss to your forehead as he gives you one more squeeze, “I said I won’t press, don’t panic,” 

“Sorry,” You breathe. 

He makes a noise dismissing that and then steps back, “So,” his eyes are bright again, everything equalizing back to normal with his smile, “you were making tea, can I help?” 

Your shoulders relax, tension bleeding out of you in an instant, “No,” you turn back to the warm kettle, “but can I make you a cup?” 

“Sure,” He pulls two teacups down from the cupboard, “so Woo will be here in an hour?” 

“Mhm,” You tap your phone to light up the screen to check for any other texts.

“Got it,” He nods, “would you feel alright with Mingi and I stepping out for a while?” 

“Out?” 

“I need to run by the studio and check in on things,” He explains, “and we need to get some food in here. I figured we could do that while Wooyoung keeps you company,” 

“Yeah,” Your heart picks up a little at the thought, but you press that feeling down and drop a teabag in each of your cups, “I’ll be just fine,” 

“Good,” He drops another kiss to your hair, keeping his fingers lingering on your skin while you pour hot water into your cups. 

“Do you,” You almost stop the question, but you find the words bubbling out of your mouth before you can second guess, “do you need to leave right away?” 

Yunho smiles wide, taking the kettle from your hands as he shakes his head, “No,”

Your heart eases a little. 

“Let’s have these together,” He nods to the tea and picks up both cups, “we’ll go when Woo gets here,” 

You follow him out into the living room, and he sets the cups down on the table before settling himself into the corner cushions and reaching up for you. It’s easy to take his hand and to melt into the familiar position on his lap, and you let him draw you in close and cuddle you, his arms wrapped securely around you as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose. 

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest and turning your face a little to catch his mouth in a kiss. 

He hums pleasantly against your mouth, “Is it strange to say that I’ll miss you while we’re out?” 

You smile, shaking your head, “No,” 

“Will you miss us?” He pecks your lips again. 

“More than I want to admit,” 

“You know,” Yunho smooths his hands over your body to rest in their familiar homes, one on your thigh and the other curled around your waist, “I hate what happened, and I wish I could take all the bad memories away, but I’m also so glad you’re here with us,” 

“I know what you mean,” You nod. 

“The months we spent apart were terrible,” He confesses, kissing you softly. 

“We’ll have to make up for lost time,” You agree quietly. 

“A proper date,” He smiles, “or a vacation somewhere warm?” 

“Mm,” You hum, thinking of being stretched out on a beach somewhere with your boys on either side of you, “perfect,”

“I’ll think on that,” He runs a hand down your hair and relaxes back into the couch, “you deserve something nice,” 

Twisting on his lap you reach for both of your teacups before settling back into the same, comfortable position, “I think it would just be nice to come over here without having something traumatic happen beforehand,” 

He frowns a little. 

“I’m kidding,” You nudge him softly, “kind of,” 

“I know,” He nods, “still,” 

“Yeah,” You quietly agree, taking the first sip of your tea. 

Yunho takes a sip too, and then hums a short, quick laugh, “This smells like you,” 

“Like me?” 

“The tea,” He takes another sip and nods, “you smell just the same, but sweeter,” 

“Do you like it?” You find yourself asking. 

Yunho’s head cocks slightly to the side, a line between his brows, and then he says, “Have I not made it clear how much I love your scent?” 

Your cheeks heat and he smiles at the way your skin reddens. 

“Sweetheart,” He shifts, pulling you in while still being careful of the tea, pressing warm, lingering kisses over your jaw to the hollow of your ear, “if I could drink you instead, I would.” 

You swallow, heat curling in your belly. 

“Soothing tea,” He murmurs, “sweet honey,” he adds with a kiss, “and the willow is sharp and fresh. You wake me up and calm me down all at the same time,” 

Your pulse quickens, and slowly your head drops to the side, extending the column of your neck to his lips. 

He takes it slow, remembering the way you jerked back in bed a few nights before, and he’s careful not to press too firmly or give you any inclination that he’s going to touch you with anything but his lips. 

“You smell like home,” He murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your head in his wide palm, kissing just a little lower still. 

Your muscles are stiffening up at the feeling of his mouth getting lower towards your exposed gland and your fingers tighten on his shirt where you hold yourself steady. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispers, “stay with me,” 

You nod, just a little, enough to tell him not to stop, “W-what else?” 

He smiles against your throat, “Well,” he kisses again, to punctuate his words, “when you’re happy, really happy or excited, there’s lemon too,” 

Your breath feels staggered, thready, and you focus on the feeling of him and the warmth of the teacups against your thigh. 

“When you want us,” He takes a deep inhale, sighing hot against your skin, “it’s all honey, thick and syrupy. After your heat I smelled that honey here for weeks,” 

You feel a whine building a little in your throat, and you bite down on your lip to keep it buried. Your body feels like it’s fighting itself with every touch of his mouth, hot arousal knots up at his scent mingling with yours and at his words, but the isolated touch alone has you fighting little flashes of a place that isn’t here and isn’t him. 

“I’ve got you,” He repeats, “I love you,” 

The reply settles on the tip of your tongue, but then he presses one last closed-lipped kiss directly over your gland and withdrawals entirely. You blink hard, a shudder running up your spine. 

“Alright?” He checks, smoothing his hand down your hair again. 

You nod, letting your fingers unknot from his shirt while you collect yourself. 

“Hopefully that answers your question,” He clears his throat softly. 

You start to nod, but the sound of the bathroom door opening cuts through the moment and you start, tea spilling over the lip of your cup onto your fingers. 

“It’s Mingi, baby,” He assures you. 

“I know,” You have to tear your eyes off the hallway though. 

His mouth is set in a concerned little line, and you know he’s probably thinking about your conversation in the kitchen again, but he lets it lie and doesn’t push it, just like he promised. 

Mingi appears a moment later, a towel slung around his hips and his shoulders and hair wet from the shower. He smiles widely when he sees you both, “What’s going on in here?” 

Yunho raises up his cup, “Tea,” he smiles, “nothing much,” 

“Mm,” Mingi nods and stretches, “nice,” 

“Will you be ready soon?” Yunho asks, “Wooyoung will be here in a bit,” 

“Yeah, sure,” He confirms and then glances at you, “you’re good with us going out?” 

“I’m good,” You confirm. 

“I’ll stay if it would make you feel better,” Mingi adds, “I can hide in the bedroom and listen to music or something if you want privacy,” 

You love them both so much in this moment you feel like your chest might crack right open on its own, and you shake your head at him with a smile, “No, I have to get comfortable at some point, it might as well be while Woo is here with me,” 

He nods, “Well, we won’t be too far, just call us and we’ll turn around.” 

“Thank you,” You reach up to take his hand and he twines his fingers with yours immediately. 

Yunho shifts, pressing his lips against your shoulder, “Are you and Woo going out anywhere?” 

He’s clearly trying to be subtle, but you hear the anxious note in his voice and it occurs to you that they might be just as nervous leaving you as you are staying here without them. 

You shake your head, “No, just staying here,” 

“That’s good,” Mingi adds a little too quickly, “if you do go out, would you let us know?” 

“I will,” You promise them, “but you don’t have to worry,” 

“It’s in our nature to worry over you,” Yunho sighs, “but I think we’re both trying not to be overbearing about this whole thing,” 

“Trying,” Mingi shrugs, “but also the idea of not knowing where you are feels like it might give me hives,” 

You laugh at the image, easing back into Yunho’s chest. 

“To be clear,” Yunho shoots Mingi a look, “that’s in a nice ‘we care about you’ way, not in a ‘controlling boyfriend’ kind of way,” 

“Relax,” You tell them both, “I get why you want to know, it’s the same reason I want to know where you are.” 

“Studio first,” Mingi offers without you asking and your chest warms, “then groceries, and then I want to swing by that cafe that has that caramel cheesecake you like, then home,” 

“Don’t say we don’t have to,” Yunho adds, “we want to,” 

You smile as he takes the words right out of your mouth. 

“Plus, I want some,” Mingi says with ease. 

You’re not used to this type of relationship yet, having alphas of your own who actually want to be with you and take care of you, who worry for you and feel for you in all the deep nervous ways you feel for them. You hush the nagging voice in your mind that tries to tell you not to show them how much you need them, the voice that doesn’t want you to jump too fast, you already know what you get by listening to that voice. 

Instead you ask them what you want to ask, “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” 

“Two hours,” Yunho offers, “maybe three at the most,” 

“Okay,” You exhale, weight dropping away from your shoulders, “that’s perfect,” 

“We’ll let you know,” Mingi adds, “and if you need anything special while we’re out, we can stop,”

You shake your head, “I’m fine,” You assure them, “a little anxious, but you know, it’s good for me.” 

Mingi smiles warmly, brushing his hand over your cheek and tilting your face up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, “We’re a phone call away,” 

“I know,” You nod. 

Yunho sighs as Mingi’s hand drops away, and he kisses your shoulder again, “It’s funny,” he says, “I really don’t want to leave you,” 

“We did just spend three months not seeing each other and in a state of constant relationship limbo,” You point out and give him a squeeze, “we really went from nothing to a whole lot of something fast,” 

“Not too fast?” Mingi checks, trying to sound casual. 

“No,” You say, “and even if it is, I don’t care,” 

“We’ve always felt right together,” Yunho adds, “we’re just letting ourselves enjoy it now,” 

He’s never said something so true. 

Mingi gets dressed and collapses onto the couch next to both, pushing closer into your space with Yunho until you’re both practically on his lap, but it works. You stay knit close together until there’s a knock on the door and then it’s fast kisses goodbye and big hugs from your best friend, and before you can really process it you’re without them for the first time in days. 

Your stomach is fluttering, a nervous quiver deep in your gut that you really don’t want Wooyoung to over-analyze. A moment later you find yourself back on the couch in the warm spot Yunho left, wrapping yourself in the blanket you had all shared the night before. You can smell them on it, earthy, warm, and sweet. 

Wooyoung watches as you start to relax, and he takes a seat right next to you to keep close, a closed smile on his lips. 

You can’t believe you miss them already. 

They must miss you too though, because Mingi only makes it a scant ten minutes before he texts you, his message lighting up your phone - Forgot to say I love you - I love you.

“What?” Wooyoung nudges you under the blanket. 

You pass your phone to him and he reads the message, his eyebrows shooting up high, “I leave you alone for a few days and you’re all saying ‘I love you’s?” 

You grab the phone back and tuck it away, “That’s the thing about life changing trauma,” you laugh, “it really accelerates the big feelings,” 

Wooyoung nods, keeping things light, but finds your hand on the back of the couch so he can hold it. 

“Also we’re not all saying it,” You confess, “they’re saying it,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean they’ve told me,” You explain, “the day after the studio we had this big talk,” 

“Don’t tell me they put all that shit on you like that,” He wraps his hand around yours, “y/n,” 

“Not like that,” You shake your head, “it’s actually hysterical, they thought that Seonghwa and I have been dating,” 

His eyes go wide, “What?” 

“It’s truly the longest story of miscommunication,” You tell him, “at this point I think someone should write a book about me and make it a romantic comedy,” 

“Erotica,” Wooyoung smirks. 

“Shut up,” You swat at him. 

“There have been too many good orgasms for a romcom,” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes, “Anyways, it turns out the whole not talking period while you were all away was just me pining but feeling like I fucked it up, and them pining but thinking I had moved on with Hwa,” 

“Damn,” 

“But when they realized that they were wrong about that,” You continue, “we just got it all out there,” 

“And they love you,” He smiles a little, “and they actually said it,” 

“Yeah,” You soften into the cushions. 

“I hate to ask the obvious,” He squeezes your hand, “but if you’re so happy about that, why haven’t you told them? You do love them?” 

“So much,” The words fly out like you’re defending something, and you run a hand through your hair as you get your real thoughts steady, “I do, Woo, so much. We’re scent matches,” 

“I know,” He nods warmly. 

“You do?” 

“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Wooyoung smiles, “well, apart from you three.” 

“Thanks,” 

He nudges your thigh with his foot under the blanket, “Honestly, though, after what happened I could see it on them. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and they kept flanking you, watching you like you might disappear,” 

A memory of the studio plays like a clip in your mind, the way they held you between them, the three of you against everything. You nod, “They’ve been doing that for days,” 

“Which…” Wooyoung trails off, trying to guess where your head is, “you’re happy about?” 

“I am,” You nod emphatically, “and I love them, I just… I can’t get the fucking words out of my mouth,” 

He sobers a little, sliding closer to you on the couch so he can draw your legs over his lap and give you exactly the kind of comfort you need, “I’m listening, babe, talk to me,” 

“I don’t know why,” You hold his hand tighter, “but every time they say it, and I think I’m going to say it back, I’m right back in that room with Minseok’s teeth on my neck and I can’t,” your chest feels tight, “I can’t get it out,” 

His eyes soften, empathetic in the way that only he can be, “Does being in love with them scare you?” 

“No!” You pull your hand back from his. 

“Babe,” He takes your hand back and holds tight, “I’m not saying they scare you, I’m saying does being in love, being vulnerable like that scare you?” 

Your shoulders drop, “A little, but,”

“But?” 

“I thought about it for three months,” You argue, “I had it rehearsed, I knew exactly what I wanted to say and the big reveal was supposed to be the ‘I love you’ part not the ‘I’m sorry’ part,” 

“Your plans on that kind of fell apart when that asshole tried to claim you,” Wooyoung pushes back a little. 

“Yeah, no shit,” A flurry of anger bubbles in your belly. 

He nods, “And now you’re off kilter,” 

“You could say that,” 

“You rarely do anything without thinking it through,” He offers, this thumb drawing a comforting line over your palm, “and your plan got fucked, and you’re emotionally vulnerable, and traumatized, and stressed. You feel like you’re out here without a life vest,” 

His words stun you silent. 

“And this thing you worked up in your mind for three months is now totally derailed,” He continues, “am I on the money?” 

You nod. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says. 

You nod again. 

Wooyoung asks this question softly, his voice quiet and gentle, “Do you want to bond with them?” 

Your heart thumps in your chest. 

“It’s just you and me,” Wooyoung soothes you, “and whether or not you bond with them is your choice, okay? But, babe, is that something you think you’ll want?” 

Suddenly you remember the feeling of your heat with them. The way you begged for them, the way it felt so right and so sure that you belonged to each other. You remember how your mind spun imaginary futures that all ended the same way. 

Silently, you nod. 

“Loving them isn’t bonding,” He murmurs, “you can just love them for now at your own pace.” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes, “What if I can never do it? They can barely touch my neck without me falling apart, what if I can never take a real claim?” 

“Oh, babe,” He pulls you towards him, crushing you to his chest, “I wish you called me earlier, you shouldn’t be thinking like this,” 

“It was so terrible,” You confess into his shoulder, “I can’t even tell you, I don’t even know how to explain,” 

“You don’t have to,” He hushes you, a hand stroking up and down your back, “and I don’t know if this is going to help or hurt, but I know right now you feel like there’s no way you’d ever be able to take a claim without it being scary and awful, but someday you might be able to without even thinking of him.”

A few hot tears escape your eyes. 

“And I know I give Yunho and Mingi shit,” He adds, “but you know that both of them would rather die than do something to hurt you or scare you,” 

“And if I can never bond?” You manage. 

“Then I’d say thank god your scent matches are two men who would never, ever push you into a bond you weren’t ready for,” He says, squeezing you tight, “and I think if you asked them, they’d tell you that they’d rather be with you unbonded and happy than bonded and in pain.” 

“You’re right,” You wipe away the wetness on your cheeks, “I know you’re right,” 

“They’re not going to try to push you into a bond just because you love each other,” He lets you lean back but he slides his hand back into yours, “especially not now,” 

“I know that,” You sigh, “rationally, I was just,” 

“I’m telling you, I get it,” He eases you, “sometimes you go through something and you think a part of you is wrecked forever, that you’ll never be able to do something again or feel normal again, but you will. I promise,” 

You know the truth of him so suddenly you can’t stop the words, “Woo,” you feel your heart beating faster, “did something happen?” 

“A long, long time ago,” He says softly, “and today’s not the day for that story, but I’m telling you it does get better and it does soften in your memory and someday your alphas are going to touch your neck and you won’t even think about it, it just won’t be there anymore.” 

Grief and relief mingle in your gut at his words, and you want to ask him more, to be there for him like he’s been there for you but you can see it in his face, today isn’t the day for that story. 

You squeeze his hand, “I love you, Woo,” 

“I love you too,” He assures you. 

Silence sits between you for a moment while you turn over his words, and though you can’t imagine the day he’s describing, you still believe him. You have to. You don’t know what happened to him or when, but you’ve never met someone as bright and open and happy as him, and you have to hold onto that truth. 

You look down at your combined hands, “Yunho offered to make an appointment with a therapist for me,” 

“Say yes,” Wooyoung replies without a thought, “I waited years and I wish I hadn’t,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Does he have a contact?” Wooyoung asks, drawing your eyes back up, “I have some options for you if not,” 

“He said he can ask his therapist for a referral,” 

“His therapist?” Wooyoung grins, “I knew I liked him,” 

“You’ve been friends for years,” You nudge him. 

“Liked him for you,” He corrects, “that’s different,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” 

“My best friend deserves an alpha who is fully therapized and capable of complex emotions,” Wooyoung says with confidence, “nothing less.” 

“Don’t mention that I told you,” You add quickly, “he told me that in confidence, it just slipped out,” 

“I wouldn’t,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “that’s private. But between you and me, I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Me too,” You sigh. 

“And as far as you going?” Wooyoung circles back to the real question at hand, “Say yes, the sooner the better. If Yunho’s offering to help set it up, let him. Making that call is hard, and if he can make it easier, just say yes.” 

“Okay,” You sigh, your shoulders dropping. 

“And tell them how you’re feeling about bonding,” He adds, “trust me.” 

“Maybe,” You say, “I know you’re right. We’re just moving so fast,” 

“So slow down,” He offers. 

“I don’t know if I want to,” You admit, warmth and nervous energy filling your chest, “it feels right like this, I just don’t know if I can handle a claim,” 

“Tell them,” He reiterates, “don’t let them stumble into that one, they might hurt you without even knowing it if they bring it up sooner than you’re ready for.” 

“Right,” You nod, “you’re right,” 

He huffs a laugh, “Usually am,”

You flick his arm, rolling your eyes, so grateful at him for helping you work through something this hard while still keeping you smiling. You should have called him earlier, he’s right about that too. 

You let silence stretch around you both for a moment, and then something occurs to you. 

“Do you know anything about the charges Minseok is filing?” You run a hand through your hair, “Not to bring up yet another pleasant subject,” 

Wooyoung snorts a little air through his nose and shrugs, “I probably know what you know, have you talked to Hwa?” 

You shake your head. 

“At all?” He seems surprised. 

“I have,” You correct, “but it was quick and we were all on the call. I haven’t been to my place to see if there’s any mail, but I’d guess Yunho and Mingi will get a summons soon.” 

Wooyoung nods, “That’s what the police said,” 

Your eyebrows raise, “You talked to the police?” 

“Seonghwa did,” He clarifies, “and he gave San and I the run down.” 

“Why is no one telling me what’s going on?” You exhale heavily. 

“Because last we heard you were having nightmares,” Wooyoung rests a hand on your folded legs, “and we don’t have a lot of information to give, and I don’t think any of us want to cause you more stress than you need.” 

“Do Yunho and Mingi know?” You press. 

“Not exactly,” Wooyoung says, “though, I guess Seonghwa might be telling them now if they stopped by the studio,” 

You wait for him to continue, but you’re a little relieved at least that your boys aren’t keeping anything from you directly. 

“Seonghwa spoke to the police who explained the charges. Minseok is alleging that the guys misunderstood what they saw and ignored his attempts to explain, and that they used unnecessary force intervening on your behalf.” He says it plainly. 

“Misunderstood?” You repeat the word. 

“I know,” Wooyoung nods, “we all know, but that’s what he’s saying. The police advised Seonghwa to get an attorney and let him know that further charges were being filed. I think we can safely assume that’s Yunho and Mingi, maybe San if he’s really going after it.” 

“Maybe me too,” You add. 

“Maybe,” He nods, “but that would be tough to prove I think,” 

“Hmm,” Your eyes feel a little unfocused. 

“Hey,” Wooyoung gets your attention with a squeeze, “we don’t know anything yet, and we thought this might happen. It doesn’t change the truth and it doesn’t mean any of them regret what they did to make sure you were safe, okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Tell me you understand,” He presses, “because I’m not letting you put this one on yourself,” 

“I do, I understand,” You nod, “it just sucks,”

“That’s fair,” He gives you a soft smile, “but it’s going to take a lot more than this to fuck us over,” 

“Yeah,” You murmur, “you’re probably right.” 

Wooyoung says something else but you hardly hear it, in the back of your mind all you can think of is that first night at the hospital. The detectives who interviewed you were kind, but bordered on dismissive, and you know Minseok and his family have deeper pockets than you do. You have to figure this out, you have to.

  “Babe?” Wooyoung nudges you. 

“Yeah,” You snap up, coming back to the present moment and letting those anxieties fade into the background until you can really think them through, “sorry,” 

“It’s okay,” He soothes you. 

Your phone buzzes on your lap again and you pull it up to see the message. It’s Mingi again - Budae Jjigae for dinner, ask Wooyoung if he wants to stay? We’ll have plenty

It’s like he felt your anxiety from miles away and you can feel the tense knot of your shoulders unlocking. You send back a quick heart emoji and then look back up to your friend, “You want to stay for dinner?” 

He smiles, “Who’s cooking?” 

“Mingi,” You tell him, “he’s been on a comfort food kick for me,” 

Wooyoung smiles, “I’ll stay,” 

“Great,” You tap out a reply to Mingi letting him know and take a big sigh. 

“They make you happy,” Wooyoung says, “it’s nice to see,” 

“It’s nice to feel,” You tell him, “after all this time, and after everything,” 

“You deserve it,” He murmurs. 

You smile, a little tease at the corner of your mouth when you nudge him, “So do you, and speaking of,” 

His face lights up fast, “I wasn’t trying to bring my too-good mood over here if things weren’t going well,” he sighs, “but now that I know you’re all in love,” 

“So you and Yeosang?” You turn the conversation to something so much happier, and feel lighter the second you do. 

“It’s so good,” He gushes, head falling back against the cushions, “he’s kind of quiet, kind of hard to get to know at first, but y/n, he’s so funny,” 

“Yeah?” You smile. 

“And smart,” He adds, “and considerate, he’s always getting me coffees or refilling my water, just like, those little things,” 

“Wow, look at you,” You squeeze his hand, “serial dater of alphas, turned into a blushy mess over a funny, smart, considerate beta,” 

“He’s packing like an alpha, I’ll say that,” Wooyoung grins wolfishly. 

You smack his chest, “Woo! Literally that is too much information,” 

“Please,” He rolls his eyes, “I share a locker room with your boyfriends, I know what you’re working with,” 

You feel your face flush red. 

“Cute,” He teases. 

“So,” You divert, “does Yeosang feel as strongly?” 

His smile drops a little, “I mean,” he says, “I think so? But he’s not really an oversharer,” 

“Have you told anyone else?” You try to be casual about that question, but if you’re being honest you’re dying to know where things will land with San and Seonghwa. 

Wooyoung shakes his head though, “Not yet, but I think when everything calms down I might have him pick me up at the studio or something? I want you to meet him and I want everyone to know, I just,” 

“I get it,” You assure him, “you go at your own pace.” 

“Yeah,” He sighs. 

“Just don’t follow my lead,” You smile, “if you like him, don’t run away in a panic,” 

“Noted,” He laughs. 

He looks so happy, bright from the inside in a way that matches his sunny scent, and you think he’s not far from sharing ‘I love you’s of his own at this rate. 

You squeeze his hand again and catch his attention back, “You really look so happy,” you tell him. 

“I am,” He sighs, “he’s exactly what I needed,” 

You smile, and then push his legs to the side, “Move over, I know you have pictures, you’re holding out,” 

He laughs sharply, head falling back but letting you manhandle him a little so you can snuggle into his side. Wooyoung tugs the blanket around you both and pulls out his phone, “Fine,” 

“Like it’s a burden to show your best friend pictures of your hot new boyfriend,” You smack his chest, “come on,” 

Wooyoung drops his arm around your shoulders until you’re slotted together on the corner of the couch, but he still hasn’t lit up his phone. You’re about to nudge him again, but then you feel him press a soft kiss to your hair. 

“You know,” He says softly, “when Sannie called me and told me what happened, I just felt so sick,” 

You find his other hand under the covers and lace your fingers together, “I’m okay,” 

He nods, sighing into your skin, “I just want you to know,” he says, his voice a little tight, “you mean so much to me, and I’ll be grateful to them forever for stopping him,” 

You blink back a few tears and nod, “I am okay, though,” 

He nods again and clears his throat, “I know,” 

“I think you’re avoiding my questions about Yeosang,” You squeeze his hand tightly, an acknowledgement of his emotions and his words, while steering the conversation back to happier topics. 

“You’re right,” He laughs, “you caught me.” 

“Come on,” You nudge him again, pushing down the little swell of emotion that his words brought up. 

“He’s not really a selfie guy,” Wooyoung slides his finger across his phone screen until he finds Instagram and then navigates to his new man’s page, “but, I don’t know, I think you’ll like his vibe.” 

Your face cracks into a wide smile when you see the profile, clearly that of an artist, a photographer. The first post on his page is of Wooyoung, though you’d have to know Wooyoung well to know it. He’s walking away from camera through a dark Itaewon street, the lines of his body accented by the neon club signs. 

“Oh, Woo,” You relax against him and open that photo to see it larger, “he really likes you,” 

He snatches the phone away, a little pink in his cheeks as he rushes to downplay the truth of what you can see plain as day, and you fight to get back the phone, your cheeks starting to hurt from how much you’ve been laughing. 

You and Wooyoung stay like this for ages, warmly locked together as you swap stories and funny things on both your phones. By the time your phone chimes with another text from Mingi, at least two hours have gone by.

Almost home! His message reads. 

Your chest feels warm, your heart whole at the words. 

“They’ll be back in a minute,” You tell Wooyoung as you set your phone aside. 

“Perfect,” He grins, “so exactly how much teasing can I get away with before you get mad?” 

You fall apart again into laughter, happy tears stinging at your eyes. You don’t hear the front door open at first, but when you finally look up you see them standing frozen in the doorway with such softness in their expressions. You feel the words bubble up at the sight of them, but again they stay resting at the tip of your tongue.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes and pushes off the couch, “Alright, alright stop making heart eyes at each other and tell me what’s in the box,” 

Your eyes flick down to the large white box in Mingi’s hand, the perfect cheesecake nestled inside waiting just for you. Wooyoung takes a few grocery bags out of their hands and heads off to the kitchen, and just like that your night falls together naturally. 

You don’t think about Minseok again until later that night. For a beautiful, blissful four hours you just laughed and ate and relaxed with your best friend and your boyfriends, and he doesn’t enter your brain at all. 

It isn’t until you’re lying in bed alone with your thoughts, Yunho and Mingi deep asleep on either side of you, that you realize what you have to do. 

In the morning you wake from a dreamless sleep, and you start to put your plan in motion. You slip out of bed and leave them to their rest, light only just stretching its way through the Seoul skies outside. Seeing Wooyoung made you feel lighter in a way that you can’t explain, and within minutes you’re scrawling out a note, stealing Mingi’s key, and lacing up your sneakers. 

Out for a walk, be back in a little while, don’t worry too much x

You leave it on their kitchen counter and you hope it’s enough to keep them from looking for you. You need a little space from your own scared reflection in the mirror, and a new perspective on the plan you’ve been turning over since your head hit the pillows last night. 

The note isn’t a lie, strictly speaking, you are out for a walk, but you also know if you told them exactly where you were on a walk to, they'd worry. They wouldn’t just worry, they would have insisted on coming with you, but this is something you have to do alone. 

You take the long way to the hospital down the river path, letting the cool day calm your mind and keep you centered. You go over in your mind all the things you want to say to him when you see him, assuming you actually make it into his room. You wonder how hard it will be to convince him. You wonder if you’ll even be able to get a single word out of your mouth. 

You have to try. 

Yunho’s words from yesterday morning in the kitchen sink into you. The tenderness in his eyes when he mentioned how jumpy you’ve been around the apartment. You hadn’t even realized it, but now you feel it in your shoulders and your stomach with the sound of every opening door, every squeak of a shoe on vinyl flooring. Everytime you look up into a mirror you expect to see a face over your shoulder, to feel hands on your hips.  

Minseok had taken so many little things from you in the span of three minutes. 

You need to take something back. 

Every step leading into the hospital is heart pounding and nerve wracking, stress inducing on a level you’ve never experienced, but standing in front of reception you suddenly feel an overwhelming calm. Your mind is clear, operating on something wholly unconscious and you don’t know where you’ve mustered this feeling from, but you let it take you. 

You give over Minseok’s full name and provide the kindest smile you can to the woman behind the desk,“I’m his sister,” you tell her. The lie rolls right off your tongue, so clean and easy you surprise yourself. 

“Oh,” The nurse nods, “well visiting hours don’t start until eleven,” 

“I have work,” You counter, softening your face, “I’m sorry, but do you think you could make an exception? I’ll be very quick, I just want to see him for a few minutes before I have to run,” 

She considers it, and you know you have her the minute she checks the nurse’s station to see who else is there with her before she breaks a rule, “Alright, but just be quick, five minutes,” 

“Thank you so much,” You smile, “really, you’re so kind,” 

She waves you off, glancing around her again, “He’s in 305, the third door down on your left when I open the doors,” 

“Thank you,” 

She presses a button on the wall and the lock springs free, opening the heavy security door to your side. With one last smile and deeply grateful bow, you slip through the door and make it through into the hospital hallway where you are most definitely not supposed to be. 

Third door on the left. 

You have to be quick, not so you don’t get caught, but so you don’t chicken out. If you stand in this hallway and let yourself really think about what you’re doing, you’ll turn right around and go home. Steeling yourself, you rush forwards and find the door to 305 and with a deep breath you slip inside. 

Private rooms are expensive, that thought occurs to you as you shut the door tightly behind you. That fact, plus the reality that he’s already talking about pressing his own charges, tells you Seonghwa was right, he has some kind of family money. You hope that when you turn around and actually face the room you won’t have to contend with his mother or father or god forbid some girlfriend you know nothing about. You need him to be alone. 

Blissfully, the room is quiet, the only sounds are medical and simple. With your palms flat against the door you take a deep breath, and if Minseok is awake he says nothing, makes no sound, while you gather the nerve to do this. 

Finally, you turn. 

He is awake, studying you with a careful expression, but then your eyes flick over him. He’s more than injured, he’s completely incapacitated. You catalog it all quickly - his leg suspended in an elevating sling, ankle wrapped up tight, wrist sprained and in a brace, his face is bruised and battered and you realize in seconds that his broken jaw is wired shut. He has an oxygen cannula tucked into his bandaged nose, and you remember that his ribs are broken too. 

You wonder which of your boys delivered each piece of punishment. 

Your mouth feels dry, and your pulse is quickening, the sight of him so close is enough to induce panic but he can’t really do anything to you in this state so you have to just be brave. You push yourself off the wall and walk to the end of his hospital bed, “Hey,” 

He gestures to his jaw and shrugs to communicate that he can’t really talk. 

“I know,” You nod, “I heard.” 

It’s strange to be here with him like this when last week you were working side by side. It’s bizarre to suddenly feel this bubble of uncomfortable space and distance, and to feel the fear underneath it all. 

He gestures towards you with his bandaged hand and you know he’s asking why you’re here. 

“I heard about the counter charges,” You came here with a purpose and you have to stick to it, “and I came here to ask you to drop them.” 

He shakes his head and looks down at himself and then back up to you. 

“After what you did?” Anger curls up in your belly, “I think they took it pretty easy on you.” 

He huffs, a puff of air from his closed lips. 

“Listen,” You try, “you and I both know what you tried to do, and whatever your excuse is, it doesn’t matter. If they hadn’t gotten you off me… I guess what I’m saying is do the right thing now. You said you were sorry, just drop these charges and we can all move on.” 

His eyes harden and he shakes his head. 

You thought he was apologetic after, coming to his senses and realizing in the haze of his rut he almost broke someone’s mind, but now you’re starting to think he was just pleading for his own beating to stop. 

“You won’t consider it?” You ask, stomach clenching tightly. 

He shakes his head again and points to his injuries. Jaw, ribs, leg. 

You want to hit him yourself, so suddenly that your fingers curl tight into fists, “You tried to fucking claim me because I wouldn’t go out on a date with you, and you think you’re the victim here?” 

He seems irritated by your question, and he reaches for something on the tray table to his side. He pulls up a small whiteboard and marker, clearly given to him by hospital staff to communicate, and he wipes away the words that were there to write out his message to you. 

I’m the one in a hospital bed.

“You bastard,” The words just slip out, “why do you think? They put you here for a fucking reason, Minseok,” 

He wipes the message away and writes something else. 

Keep your alphas on a leash.

You’ve never understood the phrase ‘seeing red’ before, but now it’s meaning is crystal clear, “You should keep yourself on a leash.” 

He huffs. 

“Using tone to submit an omega is illegal, Minseok,” You round the corner of the bed, “the prison time for something like that is long. It’s not even just assault, I think that’s something like three or four years? But using tone… claiming against an omega’s will? That’s irreparable damage. I wonder how many charges they’d stack on top in court? Psychological trauma? Sexual assault?” 

His eyes darken and he wipes the board again, his marker squeaking roughly against it as he angrily writes out the next message. 

I never touched you like that.

“You would have,” You shake your head, “as soon as I was your nice obedient omega and couldn’t say no.” 

He stares daggers, but says nothing. 

“They might be able to prove intent,” You tell him, “throw a few more years on top for good measure. How old do you think you’ll be when they let you out? Do you think a dance studio would hire a forty year old man?” 

His face pales, he looks sick suddenly. 

“You’ll drop the charges,” You tell him, “and when you do, I’ll drop mine.” 

His eyes widen. 

“You’ll never set foot in the studio again, and you’ll go find another job somewhere else.” 

His eyes skim over you, trying to gauge your honesty. 

“Do you understand me?” You don’t know what’s possessing you, what’s holding you up so you can get these words out, but you’ve never felt more sure. 

He says nothing. 

You lean in closer, close enough that if he was uninjured he could easily have you back in control, but with his jaw wired shut and his lack of mobility, he can’t do a thing. Nerves flutter up your body as you lean in, and you’re sure he can smell Yunho and Mingi on you, but the guarantee that he can’t touch you is filling you with a sick sense of power, of sure joy. 

“You tried and you failed,” You tell him, and he huffs, “and that’s on you.”

His cheek twitches and you’re sure he’d be clenching his jaw if he could do it without exceptional pain. 

“You’ll do this for me, you owe me,” You hold his gaze despite the flutter of fear it brings you, “and if you don’t, I don’t care what it takes. I’ll see you in court and if that doesn’t work, I’ll make sure that you never, ever get hired again. Every studio in Korea will know what you did, and every omega in Seoul will know what you really are, and if you ever get close to me again after today I’ll break your jaw myself.” 

His eyes flick down. 

“Do you understand me?” You repeat, enunciating clearly. 

He nods once. 

“Good,” You push back from him and get some distance, “get the charges against all of them dropped by tomorrow and I’ll call and withdraw mine. Don’t ever come back to the studio, if you left stuff there consider it gone.” 

He holds your gaze, and then he writes out a question - How do I know you’ll keep your word? 

“You don’t,” You shrug, “but I promise you I wouldn’t be here in this room with you at all if I wasn’t willing to drop them.” 

He turns your words over. 

“Minseok,” You sigh, “they mean more to me than watching you go to jail, please, just do the right thing.” 

He wipes his hand again across the whiteboard and then he shifts, looking back up to you to nod in agreement. 

“You’ll do it?” 

He nods again and then picks the marker back up to write something. 

“Don’t,” You stop him, “there’s nothing you can say I want to hear. Just do this and we’ll be done.” 

He looks away and without meeting your eyes again, he nods.

“Don’t make me come back,” You press him, but he doesn’t respond and that will have to be enough. You’ve done what you came to do. 

You’re out of his room in a flash, back through the security doors and quick past the front desk. You don’t spare a single glance at the nurse who broke the rules for you, you just need to get out of here before you let the reality of what you’ve done hit you sideways. You don’t let a single thing consume you until you’re out of the hospital and on the street again, and you sink down onto the first available bench. 

Your heart is pounding, hands trembling. You need to get this under control before you go home because the last thing you want is to cause Yunho and Mingi anymore stress or heartache. You give yourself some time to come back into your body, to forget the hard set of Minseok’s eyes and the way his fingers twitched when you got too close, the way you fought the curling panic in your gut to get the words out. 

When you do feel whole again, you order a taxi back. You’ve been gone a while, probably a little longer than they expected, and you hope they’re not worried.

Using Mingi’s borrowed key, you slip into the apartment and let their scents wash over you, soothing you instantly. You shut the door quietly behind you and toe off your shoes before calling out, “Is anyone home?” 

You hear movement immediately, Mingi from the kitchen and Yunho from his bedroom and it fills you with warmth. 

“Hey,” Mingi gets to the living room first, “how was your walk?” 

“Really good,” You tell him, and that’s the truth. The walk itself was nice until you cut it short with your little errand. 

“You look good,” He smiles, and Yunho appears from his side of the apartment as Mingi continues, “fresher,” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “it’s a beautiful morning out,” 

“Hey,” Yunho says, smiling at the sight of you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” You say, “I just wanted to clear my head a bit, so I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your key,” 

Mingi shakes his head as you hang his keyring up by the door. 

“We’ll have to get one made for you,” Yunho says, “if you want,” 

You let the implication of that lie and you nod, but excitement sparks in your belly.

“Is there any coffee?” You ask, moving into the apartment and heading towards the kitchen. You need to tell them where you’ve been, but you just need a breath before you can. 

“Mhm,” Mingi says, “I just made a cup,” 

“Oh,” You shake your head, “I don’t want to take yours, I’ll make my own.” 

“No, no,” He slides behind you and presses a kiss to your hair as he does, “take it, I’ll make another. Yunho, do you want one?” 

“I’m good,” He replies, coming to stand next to you at the small kitchen island. 

Mingi looks like he’s thinking about something as he finishes off your cup of coffee and throws an electric kettle back on to make another pourover, but Yunho draws your attention away. 

“Jagi,” He starts, “I don’t mean to… well, can we talk to you about something?” 

“Sure,” You angle towards him, his words making you a little nervous, “is everything okay?” 

“Absolutely,” He assures you, brushing his hand down the length of your arm, “but Mingi and I were talking while you were gone, about how to handle everything with these charges,” 

“Oh,” His timing is impeccable. 

“We just want to include you,” He says, squeezing your hand, “and make sure we’re handling things the way we should, but it might be smart to try and hire a lawyer before this goes any further,” 

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to say this. 

“We talked to Seonghwa and he agrees,” Yunho continues, “this will be the easiest way to protect all of us,”

“Yunho,” You start, “hang on,”

“If this is upsetting we can talk about it later,” Yunho adds, “but Seonghwa has some connections through his parents, he wants to make some calls.” 

Your stomach twists at the idea of Seonghwa needing to lean on a favor from his parents, and every choice you made that morning becomes perfectly validated with just that thought. You would never, ever let him do that, not after everything he’s done for you.  

“It’s not upsetting,” You assure Yunho, trying to interject, “I just don’t think that will be necessary,” 

“Getting a lawyer?” He clarifies. 

“Yeah,” You swallow hard and glance at Mingi, “I don’t think we’ll need to.” 

“I mean, having representation would be best,” Yunho says, “I know it’s stressful, but we need to be careful,” 

“Right,” You sigh, needing him to give you a breath to explain, “that’s if there’s a suit,” 

“Well sure, but,” Yunho starts but the penny drops for Mingi. 

“Tell me you didn’t,” Mingi turns to you fully and the words die on Yunho’s lips as he plays catch up. 

You stay quiet, holding his gaze, but when you let out a soft breath he sets his coffee back down. 

“y/n,” Mingi says, voice serious and leaving Yunho visibly more and more confused, “tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.” 

“I took care of it,” You settle on the most neutral words you can. 

“No,” He shakes his head, “you can’t just say that, you have to give us more than that.” 

“I was planning on it,” You push past Yunho to approach Mingi, resting your hands on his upper arms as you get closer into his space, “I swear, you just guessed it too fast,” 

“You smell like the hospital,” He explains, his nose crinkled up. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Yunho finally catches up, “why were you at the hospital?”

You just have to say it, “I talked to Minseok,” 

“Absolutely not,” Yunho pushes around the island and closer to you, “are you insane?” 

“He’s completely incapacitated,” You tell them both, “he couldn’t have touched me even if he wanted to,” 

“Yes, but you didn’t know that!” Yunho presses, his voice running high in surprise, but you can see he’s doing his best to keep level and cool. 

“Look at me,” You settle him, “do I look hurt? Upset?”

“No,” He admits with a puff of dejected air. 

“Am I myself?” You take both their hands in yours. 

“Yes,” Mingi admits. 

“Okay,” You sigh, “now stop freaking out and listen to me, because I promise you I’m perfectly fine,” 

Mingi nods once, and Yunho stays silent, which is enough for you to do what you need to do. 

“I went there to talk him out of the charges he’s filing,” You explain, “and I guess… I just wanted to understand what he did, so I wanted to talk to him.” 

“And?” Yunho prompts. 

“He’s an asshole,” You start. 

“Did he touch you?” Mingi asks, his voice a little tight and thready, “Say anything to you?” 

“No,” You promise, tugging him closer until his hands are properly on you, “come here,” 

“You can tell us if he did,” Yunho’s fingertips stroke a gentle pattern over the back of your neck, “we’re not angry, we just want to help,” 

“Speak for yourself, I still want to kill him,” Mingi says sharply. 

“Hey,” Yunho nudges him, “chill,” 

“Both of you relax,” You interject and they fall silent, “he didn’t do anything, he couldn’t even talk, his jaw is fully wired shut,” 

Yunho huffs a laugh, “Good,” 

You smile, “Honestly, he looked pretty pathetic,” 

“He is pretty pathetic,” Mingi points out. 

“Right,” You sigh, “well, aside from some choice words written out on a whiteboard, he didn’t have much to say or do. I explained that if he didn’t drop his charges things would be much worse for him in the long run… and he saw reason.” 

“He agreed to that?” Mingi’s eyes go wide. 

“Mhm,” 

“Why?” Yunho’s brows draw together, “Not out of the goodness of his heart, I assume,” 

“No,” You shake your head, “but when I tell you, I need you both to promise me you won’t be angry.” 

“That’s unfair,” Yunho says. 

“Just say it,” Mingi nods, “we won’t know until we know.” 

You chew the inside of your lip as you search for the right way to say this, and you know they’ll be upset no matter what, but they deserve honesty. You nod, “I agreed to drop my charges if he drops his,” 

They’re silent, deathly silent. 

“y/n,” Yunho swallows tightly as he gets his voice even, “why would you do that?” 

“He didn’t want to listen to me at first,” You explain, “and I thought it through on the walk. That’s the only piece of leverage we have right now,” 

“But he did something wrong, he should be held accountable,” Mingi exclaims, taking a full step away from you and running a hand through his hair. 

“You heard the questions the police asked me,” You interject, “how close was I to my next heat? Did I know Minseok was in pre-rut? Why did I stay in the room if he was making me uncomfortable? What was I wearing?” 

“But it wasn’t your fault,” Yunho insists, “he used tone, that’s fucking illegal,” 

“I said he used tone,” You counter quietly, “but he’ll say he didn’t and he’ll say I got confused or misunderstood. He’ll use our relationship against you both, and my relationship with Seonghwa to paint… a very particular kind of picture about me. We all know what he did but I’m telling you, legally? We’re on the losing side,” 

“But,” Mingi shakes his head, “that’s…” 

“I know,” You nod, “believe me, I know.” 

“You should have taken us with you,” Yunho says quietly, “we could have talked to him for you,” 

You shake your head, “No,” you need them to understand, “you got to hit him… you got to do something, I didn’t get to do anything but be fucking scared,”

His expression softens, “Oh,” 

“You protected me when I needed you,” You feel tears welling up now at the thought of it, “it’s my turn to protect you,” 

They’re so quiet, watching you carefully. 

“Nothing is taking you away from me again,” You say it, plain and clear, “nothing is taking away you or my friends, I won’t let that happen,” 

Mingi’s arms fold around you fast as he tucks you into his chest and you feel Yunho step close too, laying a warm palm on your back as he leans into you both. 

“Whatever you want, we’ll do it,” Mingi murmurs, “okay?” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you snuggle into the warmth of him. 

“And we’ll handle it together,” Yunho says, “but don’t make this decision for us, make it for you. We,” Yunho’s voice trails, but then he clears his throat and says what he wants to say anyways, “we love you. No matter what happens,” 

“I know,” You sigh, snaking an arm out of Mingi’s hold to find Yunho’s hand and tuck him a little closer too, “but I’m sure,” 

“I hate to state the obvious here,” Mingi pulls back from you so he can look at you both, “but if he’s not charged with anything, then he’s a free man.” 

That thought does make your stomach flip, but you knew that when you walked into the hospital room, “I know,” 

“It’s your choice,” Mingi reiterates, “but I still don’t know if I’m comfortable taking that kind of risk with you.” 

“I don’t even want to think about that,” Yunho says, his hands finding your shoulders as he tucks closer behind you. 

The image of Minseok’s face when you asked about his dance career flickers through your mind and you smile, “I think he got the picture,” 

“y/n,” Mingi’s voice is hesitant. 

“I told him in no uncertain terms,” You can’t get the smile off your face now, “that if he came anywhere near me again I’d break his jaw myself.” 

“You didn’t,” Yunho looks down to see your face. 

“I did,” You nod, “and before you freak out again, please remember that I’m here and totally fine in front of you,” 

Mingi gives you a truly withering look but lets you speak. 

“Honestly,” You breathe, “you should have seen him, he was lying there and could barely move, and when he didn’t want to drop the charges at first, I kind of got in his face,” 

Yunho’s hands tighten on your shoulders and Mingi scrubs a hand over his face, “Don’t tell me that,” 

“But I did,” You press your palms flat against Mingi’s chest, “I told him that if he didn’t drop his charges he would never get rid of me, I told him I’d make his life hell, and he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t touch me,” 

Mingi’s quiet, his eyes flicking up to Yunho behind you. Yunho sighs, dropping his forehead to rest against your hair and then his arms relax, wrapping around you from behind. 

“I really hate this story,” Yunho says, “but I’m also really proud of you,” 

“Me too,” Mingi’s hand closes over both of yours to give you a squeeze. 

“I just wish you had told us,” Yunho admits. 

“If I had told you I was going there you would have never let me go alone,” You point out. 

“Exactly,” Yunho’s arms tighten. 

You turn your head to press your lips to his arm where it wraps around your shoulder, and you nuzzle a little into his warm skin, “You know why I had to go though, right? You get it?” 

He nods against your head. 

Mingi smooths his hand up and down your forearm, “We do,” 

“I just hate the thought of him seeing you again,” Yunho admits, lifting his head and readjusting you in his arms, “or being close to you at all,” 

“I know,” You lean back into his embrace, “but this is the thing, he got to see me be fine after what he did,” 

“And you got to see him,” Mingi puts two and two together with ease and nods, “and he looked pathetic?” 

“More than that,” You smile, “he looked… afraid.” 

“Good,” Mingi says firmly. 

You remember the way he looked in that hospital bed, his eyes darting around the room. He shrank back when you got close, no doubt the scent of Yunho and Mingi lingering on your skin, and you smile up at them at the thought, “He was terrified my alphas were with me,”

Yunho’s lips quirk and he leans around you to meet your eyes, “He wasn’t afraid of us, sweetheart, he was afraid of you.” 

“No,” You laugh that off, but they don’t join in and Mingi makes a funny expression at your words. 

Yunho slides away, shoulder to shoulder with Mingi now as he looks down at you, “Yes, y/n,” he shakes his head, “he was vulnerable and alone and stuck in a hospital bed, and you’re…” 

“A powerful fucking omega,” Mingi supplies. 

Yunho nods, “And he knows that you could ruin the rest of his life.” 

You don’t know what to say. 

“y/n,” Mingi sighs, tugging you in until your bodies are close together, “if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll lose my mind,”

You move to lift your head and push back, to keep trying to get him to understand why this was so important for you to do alone and why you made the choices you made, but he stops you short. 

“But,” He adds, kissing the top of your head, “it was also very brave, and I love you for it.” 

“Yeah?” You nudge him. 

“Yeah,” He admits. 

“I do wish I could have seen it,” Yunho grins, “that asshole scared of you,” 

Mingi’s hands slide to your hips, tightening their grip and he swallows hard, “Our fierce little omega,” 

A ripple of something needy and unexpected passes through your belly, “Is that what I am?” 

Yunho steps closer, finding a home for his hands on your body too, “You called us your alphas,” he says softly, “isn’t that what we are?” 

Mingi’s thumbs brush a warm steady pattern into your hips and you feel yourself melting into their hands, “Yes,” 

“That makes you our omega, sweetheart,” Yunho eyes flick from yours to your lips. 

The way they say omega to you doesn’t sound cold. It doesn’t sound cruel or commanding, no undertone of ownership despite the content of their words. When they say it all you hear is love. 

“Say that again,” You murmur softly. 

Mingi smiles, lifting his eyes to watch you.  

Yunho dips closer, his lips dangerously close, “Our omega?” 

You nod a little, heat flushing your cheeks. 

“Our omega,” He repeats, pressing his lips to yours. He waits to make sure you want it, he waits to feel you twist in their arms and reach up for him, and then he lets his body follow his thoughts, lips opening and his tongue dipping into your mouth. 

Mingi’s hand shifts, spreading wide over your lower belly, his fingertips at the waistband of your pants. You’re not ready for that, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you twitched in his hands when he first adjusted his grip, but either way he makes no move to take anything further. Neither of them do. Despite Yunho’s lips on yours, and the breath between you both, his hands stay put on your back and your cheek while Mingi just holds you, patient and soft at your side. 

When your lips break from Yunho, settling back down your heels after pushing up on tiptoe, Mingi uses his grip on you to spin you to face him, his mouth finding yours with ease. 

You hum pleasantly against his mouth, your hands gripping his broad shoulders for balance. 

“Ours,” Mingi murmurs between kisses, and then his hands spread to your backside, maneuvering you up into his arms in one quick motion, “you’re ours,” 

You wrap your legs around his middle and sink into the kiss, “I’m yours,” 

“Fuck, I missed you,” He mumbles between kisses, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. 

You nod against him, stealing one more kiss before you lean back, still perched comfortably with your legs around his waist. You smooth a hand over Mingi’s cheek and then reach for your other lover to bring him close, drawing him in by the hand until he’s nestled against both of your sides. Yunho’s hand reaches around to cup under your thigh and you settle your own hand on the back of Yunho’s neck, fingers stroking the shaggy bottom of his dark hair.

“This is nice,” Mingi smiles a little, eyes flicking between you and Yunho. 

Yunho nods, his free hand settling on Mingi’s back. 

“I can’t believe I convinced myself that we weren’t scent sympathetic,” You sigh a small, unfunny laugh, “this just feels so right,” 

“Knowing it and knowing it are two different things,” Mingi says, emphasizing the word. 

“I guess so,” 

“And it’s not like all scent matches work out,” Yunho adds, “we still have to work at it,” 

You nod, relaxing into their hold, “I want that,” 

“We do too,” Mingi squeezes your thigh a little with his wide hand. 

It’s funny how different it all feels now than months ago during your first panicked heat here, how settled you are with everything. You glance between them and ask the obvious, “When we go back to work, what are we this time?” 

“Pack,” Mingi says easily and your head snaps to his, eyebrows high. 

“Mingi,” You blink at him, surprised at his easy reference to such a permanent state of being. Scent matches and compatibility is one thing, but pack is something so much more. All of it flickers in your mind - claims, bonds, tying you together permanently. 

“Someday,” Yunho interjects smoothly, giving you a soft, reassuring kiss to the head, “far in the future, if you’ll have us.” 

“Someday,” The word slips out of you like an agreement, and despite all the fears shared with Wooyoung earlier, you do want them like that. You want to someday be able to give each other that.  

“Then we’re pack,” Mingi lights up at your words, “officially, unofficially, I don’t care. You’re with us, we’re with you.” 

Your body fills with warmth, but you can feel your heart rate picking up. 

Yunho smiles, “What did they used to call that back in the day?” 

“Courting,” You fill in the blank for him, and the word feels strangely old fashioned considering the fact that you’ve already spent a heat with them. When packs were more common, groups of alphas would court compatible omegas until it was sure they were a good match in more ways than just scent. The implication then was something more akin to a modern engagement and you can’t believe after everything you’ve been through with these two men, this is the conversation you’re having suddenly so casually in their kitchen. 

“Well,” Yunho laughs, “we don’t have to call it that,” 

“We’re,” You trail off, trying to find the words, “dating?” 

“Partners?” Yunho offers a slightly less casual word. 

“Together,” Mingi cuts in, “that’s what we are. We’re your alphas, we belong to you, and you,” he draws you closer in his arms to press a soft kiss on your lips, “are our omega.” 

“And at work?” You trail off. 

“We’ll be ourselves,” Yunho suggests, “people probably already know after last week anyways,” 

Mingi nods, dipping forward and pressing a kiss to your lips, “No more pretending we don’t mean something to each other,” 

“No more pretending,” You shift in his arms, wrapping your arms properly around his shoulders so that you’re hugging each other tightly. 

Mingi hums appreciatively, his breath warm against your hair and then he chuckles a little as he readjusts you in his arms, “Is it too fast if I start calling you yeobo, though? I feel like it suits you,” 

You pull back from the hug, “We’re not married, Mingi,” you remind him, “and I didn’t hear a proposal,” 

“You want to get proposed to, baby?” He teases and you shove his chest. 

“Knock it off,” Yunho smacks the back of Mingi’s head, “our relationship doesn’t have to break the sound barrier,” 

“I’m kidding,” Mingi squeezes you, shifting to take a few steps and deposit you on the kitchen counter before stepping back with a quick peck on your lips. 

“Hmm,” Yunho rolls his eyes and slumps back against the counter next to you, one wide hand smoothing over your thigh, “we just got you back, I’d like to avoid scaring you off,” 

“I’m not scared,” You shake your head, and as you say it, you realize it’s true. Six months ago you would have balked at Mingi’s veiled promise of his intentions, you would have told them all their hormones were mixed up and confused. You would have told yourself the same. It feels strange to feel completely at peace with the idea of a real someday with them. 

Yunho’s eyebrow quirks up in a question at your words and Mingi grins, a little self satisfied. 

“Actually,” You exhale heavily and straighten up, “I talked to Wooyoung yesterday and he helped me figure some things out,” 

“Things?” Mingi asks. 

“Um,” Your pounds in your chest, “yeah,” 

Yunho gives you an encouraging squeeze to keep going. 

You meet his eyes and take the leap, “Can you make that call? For me to talk with someone?” 

He softens and nods, “I’ll do it first thing,” 

“Okay,” You say, taking another deep breath, “then there’s one more thing to tell you,” 

Mingi doesn’t say anything, but he steps back closer to you, resting his hand on your opposite thigh. 

“It’s my turn to ask you to be patient,” You give them both an anxious, close lipped smile. 

“We’re listening,” Mingi soothes you. 

“Okay,” You take both their hands in yours, “here goes. The idea of bonding with you both is kind of sending me into a tailspin right now, and I’m terrified that it’s something I’m never going to get over. Wooyoung told me to talk to someone to work through that and I want to. I thought about it all day, and the truth is that I want to be with you both for as long as you’ll have me. You feel like you’re mine, now more than ever, and I’m scared, but I’m also scared of not trying,” 

“And if I can be yours like this for now,” You continue, “without bonds like you said, pack even if it’s unofficial, then maybe I can work through this and make it official someday. I’m just scared your definition of ‘far in the future’ and my definition are different though, and I,” 

“Fuck bonds,” Mingi interrupts, moving to cup both your cheeks and draw your eyes to his, “that shit doesn’t matter to me at all. We’re together by choice, not by claim. If you want my bite someday, I’ll give it to you, but you won’t ever hear me ask, alright? Never.” 

“Me too,” Yunho’s hand brushes down your hair, coming to rest on the back of your neck, “as far as I’m concerned it’s secondary, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’d sooner leave you than push you into a bond you aren’t ready for,” 

You jolt forwards, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders and nearly slipping off the counter when you do, but they hold you steady as you pull them in. 

“We just want you,” Mingi’s rough, low voice murmurs, “just this.” 

You feel their warmth, the steady thrum of each of their heartbeats, their scents curling around you like a safe, easy memory. The words find themselves right on the tip of your tongue again, only this time, this time they come. 

“I love you,” You take in a sharp, emotional breath as you get yourself together, overwhelmed by their words, “I love you both so much,” 

Yunho dips back to find your mouth, locking his lips on yours and sighing a breath of true relief against your mouth, “I love you too, sweetheart,”

Mingi redirects your gaze with his fingers on your jaw the moment Yunho starts to lean back and he kisses you hard, leaving you gripping his shirt for balance, “I love you,”

“God,” You smile, every part of your body alight with joy, “I think we might be crazy, but I don’t care,” 

“Good,” Yunho glances between you both, “because I think I’m having a crazy idea,” 

“What idea?” 

“Move in,” He blurts out, and he can’t stop smiling, “fuck giving you a key, fuck calling you our girlfriend. Move in properly, be ours. If we’re together, let’s be together, we’ve lost enough time,” 

“Who’s moving fast now?” Mingi says, but he’s smiling too. 

Everything in your body feels right, feels safe. You’ve been calling this home for days, and you’ve been calling them yours in your head for so much longer. 

You’re nodding before your mouth can catch up with your brain, “Okay, okay, yes, let’s do it,” 

Yunho pulls you up into his arms and holds you close, peppering kisses across your temple, “We’ll figure everything else out later, but at least we’ll be together,” 

“Thank God,” You melt into his embrace, meeting Mingi’s eyes over Yunho’s shoulder, “because I really didn’t want to leave,” 

“No leaving this time,” Mingi smiles softly as Yunho nods his head against yours. 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head, agreeing with his words. 

“We’ll get everything from your place as soon as we can, make it official,” Mingi adds. 

You nod, and then a thought occurs to you, “Is there even enough room for me here?” 

Yunho unwraps himself from around you and nods, “We’ll need a bigger bed,”

“For a start,” Mingi nods, “and you need a nest,” 

“Yeah?” Your very own nest, a real one. 

“Oh, babe,” Mingi finds your hand, tugging you in, “you’re about to get fucking spoiled, anything you want, we’ll figure it out.” 

“You don’t have to, I just want to be here,” You tell them. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Yunho says, “we’ve waited for you for so long,” 

“Too long,” Mingi wraps his arms around you both, “way too long,” 

It doesn’t matter anymore what pushed you into their arms, what kind of day you’ve had, everything you’ve had to get through. Not a thing in the world matters but this choice, the safe home of their arms, three of you against the world like it was always meant to be. 

vivrant thing (jwy) | one.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—WORD COUNT: 6.7k

—CHAPTER WARNINGS: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, mentions of a small car accident due to texting & driving (pls do not ever do this), lots of sibling bickering (i promise they love each other ok), alcohol consumption and intoxication, mentions of toxic relationships (not oc), mentions of sickness and death in immediate family

"Are you actually fucking kidding me?!" Jiwoo yells as she heads outside to meet her brother. "Wooyoung, you had one job!"

"And I got the job done, didn't I?" Wooyoung holds the grocery bag up. "Just got into a little accident, that's all." He points to the dent on the front of her car. 

"A little?! It's a huge dent! What did you do?! Mom!" Jiwoo yells as she heads back into the house. "I told you I didn't want Wooyoung driving my car!"

"Your car was already out in the driveway." Wooyoung adds, rolling his eyes as he leaves the grocery bag on the counter.

"Yeah, so ask me to move next time!"

"Stop yelling, your voice is giving me a headache. It's annoying."

"Mom! Dad!"

"Jiwoo, stop yelling." Their mom comes from out of the room, followed by their father. "You don't need to yell—"

"I do, because Wooyoung took my car and dented it!"

"What happened?" Their father asks, his hands on his hips.

"It was an accident—"

"You haven't even said sorry!"

"And I won't if you keep cutting me off and yelling." Wooyoung glares at her. "Yeah, fucking keep it up—"

"Hey!" Their father chimes in, cutting Wooyoung off. "The both of you, be quiet! I'm not going to ask again. What happened to your sister's car?"

"It was an accident." Jiwoo crosses her arms as Wooyoung repeats. "I just didn't brake in time so I gave the car in front of me a 'lil love tap."

"You were texting and driving, weren't you?"

"For the record, I responded to one text."

"Ugh." Jiwoo groans loudly. "I literally just got the car, Wooyoung!"

"Say sorry to your sister."

"Now, is that necessary? Cause I'll—"

"Jung Wooyoung." Their mother sternly calls for him, making Wooyoung let out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry." He looks at Jiwoo.

"You make sure that car gets fixed, Wooyoung. And take care of the costs. Your sister needs her car."

"What am I supposed to drive in the meantime?! Wooyoung's car?" Jiwoo smirks at him.

"Hell no!" Wooyoung spits. "You'll probably try and crash it into a tree the first chance you get."

"You can drive our SUV until it gets fixed."

"No!" Jiwoo looks at Wooyoung. "Wooyoung can just drive me around."

"I have shit to do that isn't on your time. Take the SUV." Jiwoo groans and rolls her eyes, brushing past her brother to get ready for the party.

"You're unbelievable. Seriously, what kind of brother are you?"

"Enough! Can we finally get ready for the bbq, please? People are going to be over soon. Can't get one moment of peace in this house when you two are home." Their mom checks the time, walking off to the kitchen with a loud sigh. "I hope you got everything from the list, Wooyoung." She yells just as she's about to dig into the bag.

"Wooyoung."

"What?"

"Be a little nicer to your sister."

"She's the one always jumping to conclusions and getting all mad. I didn't purposely try to get her car wrecked. At least I'm fine and not hurt, right?" Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"I know, and yes, thank god. But, still. All you two do is butt heads, jeez. Can't you both try and get along sometimes?" 

"Whatever." Wooyoung heads up to his room, already annoyed by the fact that he has to be here with his family all up on his case about the accident. He can admit, maybe he should've paid better attention on the road. But, it's the way none of them even asked if he was okay— Jiwoo constantly whining and yelling at him, his parents getting on his ass and backing her up. His little sister was definitely the favorite, being the top student and all. Golden child. Was in band and the church choir, never really rebelled. While Wooyoung skipped a class [or the whole day], talked back to his parents, stayed out late and just.. enjoyed having fun. He had his good days, but he also had his bad days. He wasn't necessarily cold, but he wasn't going to sugarcoat shit either.

He's a stark contrast to his little sister.

So, he shouldn't be surprised that his parents are taking her side. He shouldn't be surprised they'd come to her rescue first. He shouldn't be surprised at all. He can't wait to get the fuck up outta here when the bbq is over. He'll be out as soon as the morning hits, before any of them can wake up and pester him about anything else.

You gather your hair back and secure it with a claw clip, running your cherry-flavored chapstick across your lips before pressing them together to spread it out. You check yourself in the mirror once more, not entirely crazy about your outfit for Jiwoo's family bbq today.

But, it'll do.

You had known Jiwoo since elementary school, meeting her in the 2nd grade when you sat for lunch alone and the boisterous girl joined you. She was the new girl, but she surely didn't act like it and you admired that about her. Since then, she never left your side despite your shy nature— not engaging in much in the conversation, only humming a few words or sounds in response when she ran through list of never-ending questions. 

Even though her and Wooyoung were 2 years apart and very different, you felt like they were alike in many ways [which they'd deny until the very end].

That's how Jiwoo became your bestfriend. Because throughout all of life's changes, through your losses, she was your constant. She stayed, never wavered. Was your biggest support system alongside of your grandpa. Without her, you're not sure where you'd be. You owe alot of the push you've done in life to her.

yeosang: i'm downstairs!

you: cooooool, be down in a sec

*yeosang liked your message*

You check your outfit in the mirror once more, smoothing down the fabric before spraying a bit of perfume on your wrists. You press them together and rub it down your neck, down your clothes— a simple yellow floral tube top, white distressed jeans and your tore up chucks. It seemed fitting for a summer bbq; not one to wear dresses, shorts or mini skirts like that.

"Yo." Yeosang quickly scans your outfit just as you plop into the passenger seat and greet him. "You look nice."

"Thank you." You smile. "And thanks for picking me up." He reciprocates the smile, waiting for you to buckle up before driving off to Jiwoo's parents' house. From your tiny studio, it's about 25 minutes of a drive. Yeosang doesn't have to take the highway or anything, but he does have to navigate through the busy streets of the city before reaching their neighborhood. Jiwoo's parents celebrate their birthdays a day apart from each other, but it fell during the work week this year. So, they decided to throw a bbq with family and close friends on the weekend in order to be with everyone.

"What'd you do today?"

"I just went to get some groceries and bought a little gift for Jiwoo's parents. What about you?"

"Uh yeah, I just got their gift right before I picked you up." Yeosang chuckles. "Otherwise, I slept in a bit too much and by the time I knew it, half of my day was gone." You laugh.

"Yeo." You laugh. "You should really try waking up early. It's nice to get the most out of your day."

"It is, but you know what's also nice? Being under my covers." You laugh and shake your head, eyes fixed on the view through your window. The rest of the ride is comfortably silent with Yeosang's music playing in the background, especially since it isn't much of a drive. He does chime in here and there when he's reminded of random things he has to do or thinks about. Besides that, Yeosang is good at leaving you to your peace. When he pulls up to the street, he's having to park across from the house— Jiwoo's family and their close family friends already filling the spaces nearby.

"Oh! Y/N, Yeosang!" Jiwoo's mom sees you first, pulling you both into a hug before gesturing towards the kitchen. "Jiwoo is in here!" You both greet her happy birthday before following her into the chaotic scene that is the kitchen, Wooyoung quickly brushing past with a huge bowl of marinated beef in his hands and almost bumping into Jiwoo as she holds a huge pitcher filled with juice in her own.

"Wooyoung, move!" Jiwoo nudges him away and he glares at her.

"Stop! You'll make me drop this."

"What about me, butterfingers?"

"What about me, butterfingers?" He mocks her with a look before rolling his eyes and heading out to the backyard to meet his dad by the grill.

"I swear to God." She groans, before finally shifting her attention to you and Yeosang.

"Hi." You smile at her and you expect her mood to be lifted, but she continues to pout.

"Y/N, Yeo. Finally. Get me out of here. Please, let's just slip through the front door, no one will notice."

"Where's Joong? He has to come on our escape plan, too." You playfully go along with it.

"He's not here yet." She sighs.

"What's wrong?" Yeosang asks with a small chuckle. You look at Jiwoo with a slight head tilt, reading into the frustration in her eyes.

"Today is just so messy." She whines a bit, setting the pitcher down onto the main dining table. "Wooyoung's dumbass used my car and got into a little accident earlier."

"Oh, is he okay?"

"Yeah, look at him! He's the fucking same. But, you know what isn't? My car! The bumper is all dented and everything. You didn't see it walking into the house?" She lets out another frustrated groan and shakes her head. "Whatever, anyway, he's gonna make sure it gets fixed. He better."

"Was it his fault?"

"Yes." She sighs. "Texting and driving. Like an idiot."

"It'll be fine, Jiwoo. It's unfortunate, but I'm glad he's okay. I'm sure your brother will make sure it gets fixed in time." You add.

"He's so frustrating sometimes. Can't trust him with anything." You both follow her out to the backyard that is already filled with familiar faces. 

"It's okay, it'll get fixed." You give her a small smile and squeeze her arm. "Let's just enjoy today, okay?" She gives you a small smile and throws her arm around you, bringing you over to one of the free couches near the back corner of the yard. Some of her family members are playing badminton on the other side of the backyard, while another cousin is playing music and has Wooyoung and his friends hovering around, conveniently close to the grill.

"Oh, Y/N. I wish I could be like you, sometimes. So much patience and grace. Things I need to be successfully related to Wooyoung."

"You have it. Just.. needs more practice." Yeosang responds, making you chuckle. You finally find her dad and greet him happy birthday before greeting the rest of her family members. You, Jiwoo and Yeosang hang around the backyard for a bit, talking about work and the upcoming summer party. You don't chime in much, nor do you want to being that it'll be your third year not attending. Luckily, at this point, Jiwoo's boyfriend, Hongjoong, walks into the backyard and starts greeting everyone before he plops himself right next to Jiwoo.

"Yo! Sorry I'm a little late." He looks at you and Yeosang. "Friends! I missed you, guys. It's nice to see your faces." You laugh.

"Hi Joong."

"Where were you? I was texting and calling you!" She pouts. "We had an escape plan ready."

"Escape plan?" Joong cocks a brow up.

"Yes, so I can get away from this mess named Wooyoung and cry to myself in peace." 

"Baby, I'm sorry. I was caught up with my dad, he needed help with a few errands. The car will get fixed, okay? Glad no one was badly hurt." You smile to yourself as he kisses her on the temple. Hongjoong is a really good guy. He's perfect for Jiwoo and has a lot of patience for her. He cares for her a lot, and it's so clear you wouldn't ever second guess his feelings for her. He's selfless and would do anything for his lady without question.

You wonder what it'd be like to experience genuine true love like that. You've been in a relationship before but you couldn't exactly say it was love. Not a genuine, raw form of love, not a deep connection. Just a relationship where you learned about your partner and they learned about you, but that was far as it went. You don't remember feeling like the relationship was special, or like it was meant for you. It was more so another experience, another lesson in your book.

How does it feel to be completely, utterly, disgustingly in love and smitten with someone?

"I'll be back, I'm gonna get a drink." You mutter mid-conversation, getting up from the seat to head back into the kitchen. To your surprise, Wooyoung is there, sorting through some of the drinks set out.

"Oh, hey." Wooyoung gives you a small smile while you silently wait for him to move away from the counter where all the drinks are sitting— soda, juice and hard alcohol bottles spread across the surface. "Want me to make you something to drink?"

"Um." You softly respond. "It's alright, I was just gonna grab some juice." You point at the pitcher.

"You sure? You aren't driving anyway, right?" He points to Yeosang who is now talking to one of their cousins near the wading pool. 

"Mmyeah, I came here with Yeo."

"Alright then." He smirks. "I'll make it pretty light, hm?"

"Okay." You smile sweetly at him. You've always had the sweetest smile and Wooyoung does enjoy seeing it, he won't lie. "Thank you, Wooyoung."

"Course." You twiddle with your fingers as you watch Wooyoung make a pretty concoction in a cocktail shaker, pouring in peach schnapps and cranberry juice with a dash of vodka. He transfers the drink into a fresh cup, handing it over with a smile on his face. "Wanna taste it before you go?" You sip on the drink, eyes lighting up at how good it tasted. You weren't exactly a fan of cocktails [or alcohol in general], though you wouldn't turn down a drink or two on some occasions.

"Mm, it's good!" He chuckles.

"Yeah? Kinda pulled the measurements out of my ass but I didn't put too much vodka."

"What're you doing?" Jiwoo walks into the kitchen.

"Listening to Y/N tell me how good my drink is." She looks at you with a brow cocked up.

"You don't have to lie to him." You giggle.

"It's actually good." You hand her your cup to taste the drink. She takes a good sip and nods in approval, shifting her attention to her brother.

"She wouldn't lie to me." Wooyoung winks at you.

"Can you make me one?"

"Nah. Bar's closed now. See what all that doubting does?" Wooyoung puts the lid back onto the vodka bottle before turning on his heel to walk away.

"You're a dick."

"Love you too." He says as he walks outside and returns to his bestfriend, San.

"You okay?" You ask her as she pours some juice into her cup.

"Yeah, I just came in here wondering why it was taking you so long to get juice." You laugh as you follow her back out into the backyard and to Yeosang and Hongjoong.

"Caught your bartending brother before he closed."

"Bartending brother?" Yeosang and Hongjoong both ask.

"Mm, Wooyoung made Y/N a drink and didn't even make me one." They laugh.

"Of course."

"Anyway, do you guys wanna sit at the wading pool? Dip our feet in and watch my family act a fool?"

"Sure. That sounds fun." Yeosang shrugs.

Throughout the rest of the bbq, you, Jiwoo, Hongjoong and Yeosang engage in a few other activities with her cousins besides hanging around the wading pool with her baby cousins— karaoke, some rounds of badminton, watching Jiwoo go head to head with her brother and older cousins in beer pong. From time to time, you catch Wooyoung looking over at you, giving off tiny smiles to be friendly. It isn't entirely uncommon, Wooyoung was always nice to you despite the distance. You don't talk much, but he doesn't necessarily treat you like a stranger especially after all these years.

It's a nice thing about him, their family— they're there for you.

They're there for you so much that Jiwoo comes up with the most incredible [in her terms] idea while she catches you cheering for Wooyoung during the very last round of beer pong against their cousins. It gets rowdier and rowdier, Wooyoung and his cousins yelling back and forth; their voices echoing into the sky. You try to sink behind Yeosang, jumping at the sudden cheers and random banging.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a little loud." You scrunch your nose, Yeosang throwing his arm around you to provide some kind of comfort during the round. When evening officially hits, the partying doesn't stop. If anything, it gets a little more rowdy with alcohol running through everyone's system. 

"Oh, fuck!" Wooyoung says, the beer tipping out of his cup when his cousin rams into him and spilling onto your jeans. 

"Jung Wooyoung!" You hear his mom yell while his dad laughs alongside of her, nudging her to let it go.

"Oh shit, Y/N. I'm so sorry." He looks at you before glaring at his cousin. "You dipshit, look at what you did!"

"Wooyoung!" Jiwoo yells, dabbing a napkin to the wet spot on your jeans.

"It's okay, Jiwoo—" You try to chime in, but your response gets drowned within the ruckus.

"It's Sebeom's fault, not mine! Why is everyone calling my name!"

"You both are idiots!" She groans, taking another napkin to your leg.

"The hell is the napkin gonna do, Jiwoo?" Wooyoung sets his cup down before gently grabbing your wrist. "Let's go dab some water on that." You silently follow behind, letting Wooyoung politely drag you into the kitchen. He's clearly drunk, fighting with the paper towel roll before he successfully peels off a few sheets and runs it under the water.

"Wooyoung, it's okay. I can always throw it in the wash."

"Still, it'll get sticky and smell like beer in the meantime." He says, crouching down and dabbing the wet towel to the spilled beer on your jeans. "I'm sorry, Y/N. You know how my family gets."

"It's alright." You watch as he pinches the edge of your jeans and tugs it outwards, widening the surface area as he continues to wipe away. 

"It might look worse at first, but the water will help." He clicks his teeth. "Did it get anywhere else on you?" 

"Just my left arm but it's fine—" He stands, albeit a bit wobbly at first, taking another end of the napkin to dab away at the small wet spots on your arm.

"Okay." He says, tossing the tissue away. "Better." He gives you a toothless smile. "Won't do it again."

"Thank you, Wooyoung. It's fine, it's not a big deal. Really."

"As long as I did a better job than Jiwoo." He says, leading you back out to the backyard.

"You made it worse!" Jiwoo yells.

"It gets worse before it gets better! Plus, the beer smell won't be lingering." Wooyoung scoffs. "At least Y/N is grateful for it." As soon as you've settled next to your friends, everyone begins to sing happy birthday to Wooyoung and Jiwoo's parents before digging in for more food and sharing the ginormous cake Jiwoo ordered from a mutual friend. Wooyoung brushes Jiwoo off to the side, determining that he has the best cake-cutting skills between the both of them.

"Here, Y/N. For you." Wooyoung hands you a hefty slice of cake, eyes still glazed over from the alcohol he had been drinking. You watch as he licks the icing from his thumb, shaking his head in ironic approval. "The cake is so good. Thank god Jiwoo got it right for once—"

"Wooyoung, shut up!" 

"Don't start again!" Their mom yells from the other end of the table, yet the two continue to bicker. You, Hongjoong and Yeosang stay out of it and eat away at the cake, continuing to mingle with their family members for the rest of the night until Yeosang feels his social battery dying.

"You ready? We could stay if you want, though." You shake your head.

"I'm good. Let's go say bye to Jiwoo and her parents." He nods. You find Jiwoo first, talking to one of her aunts off to the side. You squeeze her wrist as a signal that you and Yeo are getting ready to leave, her eyes widening. Bottom lip poking out. Whines ready to leave her lips.

"Nooo, you're leaving me? Please take me with you." You laugh and rub her back as you pull away from the hug.

"You'll see me tomorrow. I'll be expecting you to come over."

"First thing in the morning. Leave some room in your bed." Yeosang shakes his head and turns to Hongjoong to bid him farewell.

"Make sure you bring her girlfriend home safely." Hongjoong says seriously, patting Yeosang on the back. 

"Will do." He nods. You follow Yeosang out towards the front door, clinging onto his sleeve as you navigate the busy house. You almost slip out successfully until Wooyoung pauses in his steps, doing a double-take when he catches you on his way back to the backyard.

"You're leaving?" You nod, chuckling to yourself when you see him drunk-whining just like his sister. "It's early!" He whines a bit. "Were you not gonna say bye to me? I thought we were cool, Y/N."

"Bye Wooyoung." You wrap your arms around his waist as he pulls you into a rough, but tight bear hug. "Bye San." You wave at San, in which he responds with a tiny smile and wave.

"Drive safely!" He calls out before leaving. You finally get out of the house, Yeosang waiting for you by the front door. You're not even gonna lie, you are pretty exhausted already, and you're excited to get washed up to lay in bed and pick up your current read. Jiwoo's family was always fun, so lively and full of energy. They fit so well together, like they were all perfectly molded and crafted as one. They've become like your second family, and you wished you had your own you could be the same with. But, that also goes to say, their parties always leave you exhausted.

When Yeosang gets you home, you thank him for the ride and give him a hug once he's dropped you off at the door. You slowly waddle into the studio, a smile on your face when you see your bed, your nightlight— the smell of incense still lingering in the room. You quickly hop in the shower and get ready for bed, looking at the big, bright 10:27pm in white on your nightstand clock. You slip into bed, getting cozy under your sheets before grabbing your book. Jiwoo is texting you and Yeosang pictures from today, including ones of her cousins getting crazy during beer pong.

Today was fun. It's over, and it was fun.

Today is not over for Jiwoo, though.

A few of their family members linger around while Jiwoo and her mom continue to clean around the house. She orders her lazy ass brother to haul out the bags of trash to the garbage can and to clean up the remaining mess from the beer pong game out in the backyard. Once all of the cleaning as finished, Jiwoo rushes to the bathroom to beat her brother for a shower. She feels like she can finally relax, finally settle down, finally set her plan in motion—

"I need you to do me a favor." Jiwoo leans against the doorframe of Wooyoung's old room as he folds his clothes neatly into his duffle bag, grabbing a new pair of clothes to change into once he's showered.

"Depends." He mutters, not taking his eyes off of his bag.

"No, you at least owe me this." He scoffs.

"Nevermind, I need to shower. Come back to me in 3-5 business days—"

"You didn't even make me a drink earlier!

"Not my fault you doubted my bartending skills." He furrows his brows. "Plus, I already told you I was getting your car fixed."

"Great, then you can do one more favor for me." Wooyoung sighs as he turns to look at her.

"What, Jiwoo?"

"Can you be Y/N's date to our company's summer party?"

"What?" Wooyoung furrows his brows and lets out a pathetic chuckle. "You're kidding, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean? She's my bestfriend."

"Yeah, clearly. Why can't she find someone else to go with her? Like that guy you two are close with, Yeosang?"

"Um, that's weird." She furrows her brows. "That won't do. If she wanted to go with him, she would've done it a long time ago. You know her. She hasn't gone the past two years, I'm not gonna let her pass up on this one."

"So then go ask your man if he has a friend he can spare?"

"She's not gonna wanna go with any of his friends!"

"Too damn bad."

"You cleaned up her jeans like a saint earlier!" 

"Because it was the right thing to do! What does that even have to do with this?!"

"Wooyoung." She whines, almost stomping her foot. Wooyoung pauses to look back up at her.

"Even if I agreed, you do know how awkward this might be, right? Not only for me, but for her, too." Wooyoung shrugs. "I know she's been your bestfriend for years but we aren't exactly close like that. We're two very different people. We can't exactly spend a whole evening together. Alone."

"I'll be there with Hongjoong."

"That's what I said. We'd be alone." Jiwoo groans.

"She'd definitely be more comfortable with you than someone else!"

"Doubt that. She's quiet and shy. Very much the opposite of me?"

"Yeah, big ass mouth."

"That can be useful." He smirks, making Jiwoo wince in disgust.

"You're so disgusting, Wooyoung. Maybe I should take this back."

"You really think she'd play along with this?"

"Yes!" Wooyoung squints his eyes.

"You didn't even tell her about this plan, did you?"

"She'll go along with it. Please. I just want her to go and have fun for once."

"Hm." He hums, deep in thought. "Nah."

"Just one night!" Wooyoung sighs.

"No."

"Wooyoung!" She pouts.

"Jiwoo, seriously. Quit."

"You owe me! I've had your back so many times, and I've never asked you for anything else out of the ordinary." He looks at Jiwoo and he actually feels a bit bad about the car situation. And it's true, even though they don't always get along, Jiwoo has always had his back and covered for him when she didn't entirely need to. She's always had his back even when he didn't really deserve it. He subtly nibbles on the inside of his cheek, letting out a deep sigh before shaking his head.

"Whatever. Tell me the details." She squeals and he quickly turns. "And by the way, this is your idea. Not mine. I'm only doing you a favor so you can stop hounding me about the car. It's one night and that's it. If she gets mad, that's all on you."

"Fine. Consider your debt paid." She gives him a small smile. "Thank you."

"What are you talking about, Jiwoo?"

"I want you to go to the party and have fun." She pouts a bit, brushing your hair away from your face. You furrow your brows at her, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

"But, parties aren't really my thing." You shrug. "And besides, I don't really have anyone to go with. I hate to say it, but I don't wanna show up alone. Everyone has dates they can bring. You have Hongjoong." You look over Jiwoo's shoulder and catch Yeosang talking to his team members at the far end of the room. He catches you looking over, flashing you a small smile before returning his attention to his coworker.

Yeosang was great, no lie. He was a good guy, everyone could see that from miles away. He was smart, diligent, kind, and the biggest team player. He started at the same time as your cohort of new hires, Jiwoo starting a couple of months beforehand. When you saw him in person, you did find him attractive. He was at a good height and well-built, black flowy hair framing his chiseled face. At first, you thought Yeosang was just being nice to you. But, slowly, he'd accompany you to the break room for coffee breaks. Bring you coffee and pastries from another shop on random mornings. Occasional outings to lunch. Until finally, he'd accompany you to casual dinners where it felt a little too serious to be considered casual— you just didn't wanna dwell on it. Too shy to say anything or bring it up because your brain goes on overdrive and makes you think you're reading into this more than you should.

He was just your friend, being your friend. So you'd like to think.

You weren't really sure what you wanted out of this, but at this moment in time, you felt like Yeosang was good enough as that. If people found out you weren't entirely into him, they'd probably think you're crazy. And you probably are, but as much as you appreciate Yeosang's company and his kindness, you fear you'd be forcing yourself into something with him.

That's not what you think Yeosang deserves.

If anything were to develop, you'd like it to develop naturally. It hasn't yet, so maybe this was a sign that you two were actually better off as friends? You're not good at this whole dating thing, reading into signs and signals.

"I know you don't really wanna go with him either."

"It's not that. I just feel like it'd be awkward and I'd ruin our friendship. It'd feel way too forced for me."

"Y/N, you're gonna have to tell him sooner or later." You shake your head. "Then?"

"Then, I don't know. I just don't know about him. That's why I'm perfectly fine staying home and being away from all of that."

"What if my brother goes with you?" Your eyes widen.

"W-Wooyoung?" She nods. "No, Jiwoo. Is this what this is all about?"

"Look, don't get mad, okay? Just hear me out." You cross your arms as she lets out a breath. "I asked my brother to accompany you to the party and he agreed to go."

"What?!" You say a bit louder than expected. "Is it because he feels bad for me?"

"No! Shh!" Jiwoo furrows her brows at you. "I mean, he also owes me, but—" 

"Jiwoo, I'm not a charity case!" You harshly whisper.

"I know, I know! You aren't. I just really want you to go." Truthfully, if this were any other person or circumstance, you'd probably feel a little hurt [even with good intentions]. You'd certainly feel like a charity case, and you'd feel sorry for yourself; especially for having to be set up in this way.

But, you're surprisingly not all that hurt by it.

Again, you know Jiwoo has good intentions and she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. She does have a point— you haven't really gone to any of the big summer parties. You didn't mind it, but now that you think about it, you feel like you can't hide forever. The feeling of missing out settles in the pit of your stomach, and it's awful.

You're probably the only person who ducks out on these things. You're the one to blame for choosing not to be involved and for shielding yourself away from people, any inconvenience, etc. Shielding yourself away from fun, happiness. Life doing its thing.

"Mm yeah." You look at her. "I'm not close to your bother like that, though." It's true despite how he can be in person. Although you and Jiwoo were glued to the hip growing up, Wooyoung had his own group of friends and didn't pay much attention to you and his little sister. You both knew the basics about each other, have gone on trips together, tagged along with Wooyoung when he was the only means of transportation for you and Jiwoo. Why would he be worried about you, anyway? You two were busy fangirling over B2K, young Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You and Sean Patrick Thomas in Save the Last Dance, screaming at the top of your lungs whenever your favorite songs came on and shopping for hours at the same mall almost every weekend.

Not exactly Wooyoung's cup of tea.

Wooyoung was always rough-housing with his friends or going on casual 'dates' with different girls, blasting his 90s music in his room [like Vivrant Thing by Q-Tip, it's his fave] that'd shake Jiwoo's walls and drive her crazy. He had a few relationships that always ended up crazy toxic and you've seen the girls crying over him on their doorstep or throwing shit at his window to grab his attention after days of no communication. Despite that, he's not entirely a bad brother. He did his best to support Jiwoo throughout all her milestones in life, never missing an important event or being there for her when she needed her brother more than anyone else. They bicker and fight. A lot. But, they'd be there for each other in a heartbeat if needed. No question.

"You are, enough! You know he's full of himself and gross." You give her a look.

"Okay, really? That's supposed to make this better?"

"Sorry, kidding. Just my defense mechanism as his sister." She crosses her arms and sighs. "But, Wooyoung isn't exactly a stranger. And knowing my brother, he'd lead the entire time. Just let him accompany you to the party and call it a night! At least you'll be there with me and we can have fun together."

"You're gonna be busy with Hongjoong." You slowly walk back to your desk.

"I'm not. At least not entirely." 

"Jiwoo." You look at her.

"I won't be too busy with him! I promise." Jiwoo looks at the date on your computer. "It's up to you, Wooyoung already agreed. But, today's the last day to RSVP."

"I feel bad, I told Yeosang I wasn't going."

"This isn't entirely how I'd go about things but hey, he'll see you with my brother. Maybe that'll initiate a talk, and you can tell him you don't want to ruin your friendship."

"Mm." You hum and pull up the email with the RSVP button, not really trying to think about the whole thing too deeply. "I don't have anything to wear."

"It's fine, we'll go shopping soon! We have some time before the party." She softly squeals as she watches you type away and send off your RSVP.

"Jiwoo, I don't know how to get ready for these things. I can't even do my hair and makeup properly."

"Babe. I will help you get this sorted out. Don't even worry. We're gonna have fun! It'll be good. I'm just happy you're finally coming." You give her a small smile.

"I hope it'll be good." Your bottom lip slightly pokes out. "Am I supposed to text your brother and thank him?"

"No. Don't worry about him."

"He's accompanying me to the party, of course—"

"Seriously, don't. It'll be fine. I promise."

"Papa?" You gently open the door and walk in, setting your shoes aside.

"Is that my girl?" Your grandfather comes from around the kitchen, holding two small bowls of rice in his hand. "You made it in time for dinner!"

"I can never miss dinner with you." You giggle, stepping out of your shoes and placing your things down before taking your place at the table. "How was your day today, papa?"

"Good." He sits in front of you with a smile.

"Did you exercise like you promised?"

"Yes." He gives you a look, making you chuckle. Your grandfather was 77 years old and still active, still healthy as can be. When you moved out, you made him promise he'd continue his exercise regimen and that he'd continue to keep himself healthy with wholesome foods. Reading. Going out and exploring the town. After all these years, he's the only one who has taken care of you well— having lost your mom and dad at an early age due to illnesses, same thing with your grandma. Despite the adversity, your grandpa made sure to put you first even if he was hurting, if he was tired, if he was stressed. He never took that out on you. He never made you feel like you were a burden, or like there was love lacking under his roof.

It was time for you to do the same.

"Good." 

"How was the bbq?"

"Good! It was fun. Loud. Chaotic. Per usual at the Jung household." He laughs.

"Sounds like you had a good time." You nod. "How about work?"

"It was okay. It was pretty busy at first, but eventually settled." You avoid contact, digging into your rice when you grab a piece of samgyeopsal sitting in front of you. He watches you closely, seeing how you've gotten quieter in the last few minutes, signaling you were hiding something.

"Did else happen today that's making you watch the rice in your bowl?" You give off a tiny laugh and shake your head.

"Mm, well. Jiwoo convinced me to go to the summer party."

"You're going?" He smiles from ear to ear, happy to hear that you're finally going to enjoy yourself at the summer party you always avoided. He never forced you to do things outside of your comfort zone, but he did wish you'd go and enjoy yourself from time to time. Be happy. Have fun. "Good, I'm happy you're going! Is Jiwoo going with Hongjoong?"

"Mhm!"

"Then.." Papa looks at you with a small smirk. "Are you going with Yeosang?" You shake your head.

"N-no."

"No?" He looks at you, surprised. You've definitely talked to your grandfather about Yeosang and how you were feeling about everything. Even then, he was still surprised you weren't going together as friends.

"I'm going with Wooyoung."

"Jiwoo's brother?" You nod.

"Papa, it's kinda stupid. The way everything happened and how I ended up going."

"Nothing is stupid. Try me. How did you end up with Wooyoung as your date?"

"Well, now I'm gonna sound like a charity case."

"You are not." You give your grandpa a look before stuffing your face with more rice and pork.

"Wooyoung got into a little accident while using Jiwoo's car."

"Is he alright?" You nod.

"Yes, he's okay. Jiwoo is having him cover the car.. but also slipped in another favor." You shyly look up as you continue to nibble on your food, and your grandpa laughs.

"Ah, and that favor is the party, I'm assuming."

"Yeah. It's silly."

"It's not. She's coming from a good place and just wants you there. The whole car thing is unfortunate but for her, seems to be the right stroke of luck to get her bestfriend at the summer party." You giggle.

"I guess you could say that." You sigh. "I'm just worried about Yeosang. I told him I wasn't going and I'm not sure I will."

"You'll just show up with Wooyoung?" You shrug.

"I don't know how to do these things, Papa. I don't wanna hurt him, but I really can't see myself being his date or taking this further. I don't know what to say or how to say it yet."

"Eventually, you're gonna have to, you know that, right? For the sake of your friendship. He seems like a great guy, and I'm sure he'll understand whatever the case is, Y/N."

"I know." You shake your head. "I will. But, not now." Papa nods quietly before eating another spoonful.

"It'll turn out fine, okay? Don't worry about it too much."

"Thank you." You softly smile.

"Anyways, back to Wooyoung—" He pauses to eat some more. "It's not the most common way to find a date. But, weirdly, I'm glad it happened this way. I want you to go and have fun." You silently look at him. "Life doesn't slow down, you don't get any younger. Take the opportunities no matter how silly it may sound at first. Make more memories."

"I know. I'm just.. I feel awful that Wooyoung even has to go with me. He's probably going to have the worst time."

"Don't say that. He's going with you and the both of you will have fun. Let yourself have fun. Plus, it's Wooyoung. You know him. I'm sure he'll do what he can to make sure you are comfortable."

"I guess so."

"Enjoy, and have fun. Don't worry about anything, promise me that?"

"I'll try."

"That's all I can ask for." Because all he wanted was to see you happy. Genuinely happy in your own skin. Enjoying yourself. Having fun. 

All he wanted was to see you smile over life again.

—PERMANENT TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙡𝙭𝙫𝙞𝙞. 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙮

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© August 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

How is one supposed to feel after their first therapy session?

A question you should have posed to your new therapist, perhaps, but in keeping with her advice— “sit with your feelings, try to understand them”—you take to the window seat of a quiet coffee shop nearby the clinic. Can’t quite face going home just yet.

Predominantly, there is relief. Doctor Kindelle— ‘can’t spell Kindelle without kind!’, a cheery poster on her wall had declared—was as attentive as her hourly rate suggested she ought to be, gently prompting when you faltered, which when discussing the extreme range of your sexual and emotional proclivities happened more than once. Credit to her; she didn’t so much as flinch. Not even when you tried to explain how the knowledge of your friends all over each other sparked in you something so visceral and hedonistic it threatened all your relationships and your ability to function like an adult. To even put it into words, despite your practice with Jisung, was the strongest test of fortitude you’d ever taken.

So gross. “Let’s not use words like that. We are primal beings at our core, all of us.”

So shameful. “This is a safe space. You’re safe here.”

So regressive. “Regression is part of acceptance. To grow, we must regress. It empowers us.”

Work on self-acceptance, she’d said. Self-love. Don’t punish yourself when your thoughts wander. Just examine them— as though they are but passing clouds through your calm, pellucid sky. What brought them on? What are you feeling right now? If you’re feeling bad, what can you do to feel better about their presence? Understand why you feel the things you do instead of battling them only to violently cave when your control slips, for none of us are built to withstand such constant and exhausting wars. You'll be happier for it, apparently. To be mindful is to be present; to be present is to be far from anxious thoughts of the future that not one of us can control.

“It’ll be a long road. We’ll walk it together.”

You send Jisung a quick text:

<< first session done. she was great. thank you again. i owe you so much x

In the next moment, your phone rings. Certain of the caller and so not bothering to check the ID, you answer immediately:

“Hey. You were so right, Ji. I really needed that. Thank you.”

Silence.

“Hello? Jisung? You there?”

“It’s me.”

Your heart lurches as though thrown through a speeding vehicle’s windshield.

“Chan...?”

“Yeah. Hi.” He clears his throat. “Is this a good time? I figured you’d be done at the clinic by now...”

“Y—Yeah. Yes. I just left.”

“Cool.”

Silence creeps in, your mind begins to race. Your last conversation with him so far from cordial, so much so it escalated to the physical, you can’t fathom the reason for his contacting you beyond wanting a second round, and in your current state, you’d rather not. Something about throwing hands after a therapy session feels counterproductive.

“Was there something you needed?”

“I, uh... wondered if you could make some time to meet with me.”

“Why?”

“I... have some things to say to you.”

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say, Chan.”

There’s a huff of exasperation. “Right. Touché.”

But it’s not half as vindicating to give him a spoonful of his own medicine as it should be.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says. “I know that. I also know I’m very lucky you didn’t immediately hang up on me.”

“Chan—”

“Please meet with me. An hour is all I need. Just... give me one hour, and after that you’ll never have to hear from or see me again. I promise.”

Your stomach twists on his insistence. You’d rather shit in your hands and applaud his confidence than spend any time alone with him. Minho would certainly warn you off it, plucking the red flags from the ground to make pom-poms and cheer dance out the letters ‘f’ ‘u’ ‘c’ ‘k’ ‘n’ ‘o’. And he wouldn’t be wrong for it. To be fooled once, and so on. You wonder what Jisung would say— if he’d encourage this. If Changbin would.

Regardless; you know a desperate man when you hear one, and Chan’s desperation is the most intriguing thing you’ve encountered in a while.

Sorry, Doc.

“Fine. Where?”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

---

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙡𝙭𝙞𝙞𝙞. 𝙤𝙝, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© July 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

Next day, Jisung beams at him as he has always done. Chan’s not sure if that’s a good thing.

He supposed there might be a conversation to be had, although he’s not sure what that would even sound like. He’s never had to talk to a bro about something like what happened between them— as if anything even happened at all, because it didn’t, not really. They were just… together. Still. It reminded him of nights when Jia had her period; when they couldn’t do much more than cuddle. He liked those nights. How close they were. How quiet. How good they felt. With Jisung, it was still all those things. Close. Quiet. Felt good. More than good.

God.

When the rapping duo show up at his room with foil-wrapped burgers and a collection of M-rated DVDs, he breathes a sigh of relief. Right. Because nothing happened.

“Figured we’d camp here for the night, hyung,” Changbin says. “It’s a pain to go back to the dorms.”

Chan doesn’t protest. He’s starting to hate being alone.

The television is rolled to the threadbare corner sofa, the blinds drawn to the overcast evening. Chan sits between the two, and the first of several movies plays out its introductory credits.

As burgers are issued, Changbin calls to Jisung, “Yo, pass me that,” pointing at his end of the sofa where a plastic bag rests. Jisung does so, a one-handed toss narrowly missing Chan.

“You’re putting more sauce on it?” He grimaces. “It’s already got mustard and ketchup, hyung.”

“Did I ask for your opinion on my sauce preferences?” Changbin pulls a bright red-orange bottle from the bag. “No? Thought not.”

“Heathen.”

Changbin chuckles and happily lifts the bun as he squeezes a generous dollop of sriracha to the patty. “Hell yeah, my spicy baby. Come to daddy.”

The movie is terrible, made bearable by the impromptu riffing that Chan is sure will give him indigestion. Jisung’s comedic timing is divine. By the mid-point, he’s done; his ribs ache from laughing, stringy cheese lives down his chin.

“Okay, alright.” He reaches over Changbin for the remote. “White flag. We eat in peace.”

“Agreed,” Changbin says. “We’ll have wicked stomach-ache if we keep this up.”

Jisung, still laughing, has only crumbs left. “I’m doomed anyway. Let it play,” he sighs, and makes a move for the remote. Chan snatches it away, holds it well out of reach.

“Down, boy,” he giggles.

Jisung pokes his tongue out. “Mean.”

“You love it.”

“What if I do?”

“Get a room you two. Damn,” Changbin chuckles.

Chan’s chest lurches for the door. Jisung startles like he’s been prodded.

“I, uh—” Chan clears his throat. “Bathroom.”

In the pokey bathroom he tries to centre himself. Doesn’t really understand what’s happening. His heart pounds and his hands tremble. The last time he felt like this was— Fuck. Can’t be that. He splashes cold water on his face, holds his wrists under the faucet. It helps. Steadies his breathing.

Okay.

When he exits to the bedroom, Changbin calls to him.

“Hyung, we were just saying; we need a group name.”

“Group name?”

“Haven’t you seen the way our hits have blown up?”

Chan shrugs; he’s been too busy wallowing to think of checking the Soundcloud.

“Man,” Changbin rolls his eyes, points at the laptop. “Give me that.”

Chan grabs it, hands it over and sits back between the two. Jisung cranes over to watch Changbin pull up their account uploads. He angles the laptop towards them, and Chan reads the figure on their song once. Then again. And again. What the—

“Four hundred thousand?”

Changbin beams at him, sauce on his lips.

“That can’t be right,” Chan mumbles, pokes the screen.

“Not only is it right, but we’re getting demands for more. Look at all these.” He clicks to the message board, an endless stream of comments that praise and declare loyalty and disbelieve the quality and rage at not having discovered them sooner—

“Cool, huh?” Changbin grins.

“We were hoping you’d want to keep making tracks together, hyung,” Jisung says. “I know you don’t really care about the success, but, like; this feels good, doesn’t it? To have our talent recognised for once?”

“Yeah. Shit. It does.”

“As a group we’d be unstoppable,” Changbin smarms. "We might not even need the company!"

Chan nods. “Right. Yeah.”

“What is it?” Jisung prods him carefully.

“Nothing.”

“Hyung—”

“I just— I was in a good place when we made that track. I’m... not now.”

Changbin scoffs. “I’ve heard the stuff you’ve put together recently, man. Don’t even pretend it’s not hot.”

“Alright. I’m just saying... I don’t know if I’m up to it right now.”

“There’s no pressure, hyung,” Jisung says. “If you don’t want to—”

“I do want to, though. Really. Making music is all I've ever wanted to do, and doing it with you guys is, like—” He doesn’t want to say ‘the dream’. Doesn’t have any of those left. “I don’t want to be an obstacle.”

The two share a look; Changbin bites his lip, chest rumbling with laughter that Jisung joins in on. The younger throws his arms around Chan, hugs him tight. He smells so good.

“Hyung, please. You really have to stop being so cute.”

Chan’s face flames. Changbin pats his knee affectionately. “What are we going to do with you, for real?”

Jisung releases him. “Do you want to be a in group and make music with us, or not?”

“Y— Yeah. Yes.”

Changbin claps. “Then we need a name!” He looks around the room, then pouts. “Any ideas?”

“We can’t just keep using our rap names?” Chan asks.

“Individually, sure. It’s a pain to put them all on a single track, though. A group name is snappier, cleaner. Especially if make an album.”

Album? As if.

“Let’s just think on it,” Jisung suggests. “It’ll come when we least expect it. There’s no rush, right?”

Changbin hums. “Guess not.”

Jisung slides his arm through Chan’s, tucks into his side. Changbin picks up the remote, carelessly knocks the plastic bottle of sriracha over.

“Want to sack this off and make some fucking music?”

Chan grins.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

---

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙡𝙫𝙞𝙞𝙞. 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© June 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

“Fuck her, man.”

“Hyung—”

“No. That shit is so out of order. After two years she can't even break up with you properly? Who does this chick think she is?”

Colourful things, Changbin’s tirades.

Meanwhile, a brass band marches through Chan’s head. He doesn’t really hear what’s being said. Just knows that he’s glad of Jisung’s arm around his shoulders. It stops him from floating away. Changbin paces the pokey studio, sleeves rolled to his shoulders, skinny arms on display as he gesticulates like a hysterical ferret.

“How do they know their debut is a sure thing? That’s not how this works.”

“Maybe they got an inside tip,” Jisung says.

“Nah, no way. She had to be lying. That’s not how this works.”

“Hyung, with respect, you keep saying that’s not how this works, but you don’t actually know. You’ve never done a showcase.”

“That’s not how this is supposed to work,” Changbin huffs. “If debuts are decided on before the showcases even happen, what’s the fucking point of them? Why do we practice our asses off? What are all the monthly tests for? You’re telling me it’s all just for appearances? It’s all rigged? No way I can believe that.”

“It doesn’t even matter right now, hyung. That’s not what’s important,” Jisung says, with a pointed glance at Chan that’s not half as subtle as he probably thinks it is.

Changbin turns to them, his shoulders sagging with a sigh on what Chan knows is a miserable fucking sight. They must think he’s pathetic. A regular loser destined for fuck all and worth even less.

“Right. Sorry.” He sits at Chan’s other side, puts a comforting hand on his knee. “Last thing you need is me ranting right now.”

Chan shakes his head. “It’s actually kind of nice.”

“Yeah? I have, like, three other things I could bitch about right now in that case.”

“Spare us, please,” Jisung whines. “I still think you should talk to Jia, hyung. You can’t just take Fei at her word. She might not have a clue what she’s talking about. This might be one huge misunderstanding.”

“I tried. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“You don’t know that—”

“I know what my gut tells me.”

“No. I can’t accept that. You shouldn’t accept that. You love her, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then fight for her, hyung,” Jisung urges. “Get your girlfriend back, pull her out from under all this company bullshit and remind her where she really belongs.”

Changbin is notably silent, his jaw firmly set.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I tried everything to get to her. What else is left?” Chan mumbles.

Jisung purses his lips. “When did you say the showcase was?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“You’re going, right?”

He’d rather set fire to his happy trail, honestly.

“I don’t know if I—”

“You have to.” Jisung nudges him. “We’re coming with you.”

“What?”

“You thought we were going to let you go alone?” He smiles. “Assuming what Fei says is true, the showcase might be your best chance to see Jia in person before she debuts. She’ll be untouchable afterwards.”

“I don't like it, but he’s right,” Changbin says. “For better or worse, you need closure.”

“We’ll be your moral support. Or your physical! Whatever you need. I’m sure I have my pom-poms somewhere at the dorm.”

Chan huffs a laugh. Jisung grins.

“Just... catch her while you can and tell her everything that’s on your mind,” he adds quietly.

Sounds like a recipe for a total fucking train wreck. But what has he left to lose?

“Okay.”

Jisung squeezes his shoulders. “It’ll all work out, hyung. You’ll see.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 - 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚! 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙢𝙚 ♡ >

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙡𝙭. 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥, 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© June 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

Sasaeng. Fucking sasaeng?

It’s one word.

How can one little word do so much? Weigh so much? Mean so much?

Sasaeng.

They didn’t have enough evidence to lodge a charge. Nothing tangible, the officer said, after sixteen hours of marinating in a piss-soaked holding cell with nothing but his spiral for company. They released him with a warning that suggested far more than legal trouble should authorities ever discover him within ten feet of a female idol again.

Sasaeng.

The walk home was long. Quiet. He skimmed through puddles left by the freak summer shower and felt nothing much at all.

Sasaeng.

In his dorm, he sits and stares at the whitewashed wall. He likes how blank it is.

Sasaeng.

Something’s rotting. It stinks. Could be him. Whatever. He doesn’t even want to take his headphones off to investigate. Just grimaces and ignores it, cranks the volume of the track until his skull vibrates and his teeth ache. Music is good. Safe. And this is some of the best stuff he’s ever produced, by no coincidence. So raw and dark. The kind of melody that reaches into your guts and squeezes the gooey stuff out. Gives him chills and makes him feel sick. Doesn’t matter that nobody else will hear it. He doesn’t want them to anyway. Fuck anyone else. It’s his. Just for him.

Sasaeng.

He turns the track up again. Full volume. There’s nothing but noise, and it’s peaceful.

He doesn’t hear the knock on his door. How could he? When his headphones are torn abruptly from his head, he screams a decibel he thought himself incapable of reaching.

“What the fuck!?”

He rises too quicky— his head spins. He falters, grips the desk. Feels nauseous with it all, and even more so when the bout clears and he sees how Jisung and Changbin are looking at him. Though he can’t make them out properly; not really. His vision blurs at the edges. But they’re not smiling, and that’s enough.

Jisung clutches the headphones tightly. “We’re done being ignored, hyung. This is a home invasion.”

Chan lunges for the headphones. Needs them. He misjudges the distance, stumbles several steps with view to hit the floor until Changbin catches him, slight but strong arms on his. He doesn’t have the strength to snatch away.

“Stop,” Changbin says softly. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Let me go.”

“We let you go for three weeks, man. This hermit shit ends here.”

“Changbin, I swear to—”

“Sit down, hyung,” Jisung pleads, frantically clearing a space on the bed of dirty boxers, shirts and sweats. “Please, just— Here.”

Changbin’s guiding him into it before he can even move. He’s not sure he could do it by himself, anyway. Jisung starts picking up the bomb site that was once his room. He can’t watch.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Changbin says.

Chan closes his eyes. Everything aches. “I— I don’t know.”

The rapper pulls his phone out of his pocket. “If there’s nothing in particular you want I'll get you pasta. Carbs.”

“Not hungry.”

“Yeah, no shit. You’re malnourished to hell. Stomach’s the size of a pea right now. You need to eat, hyung, and I don’t even want to hear another word about it.”

Jisung’s holding the trash can, three-quarters full of— Chan dreads to think. “Can we open the window, hyung?” he asks. “It’s a little ripe in here.”

Chan shrugs. Jisung cranes over the desk, cracks the window latch, throws it open. Warm summer air filters through. Makes the smell worse before it gets better. Chan's stomach churns.

“Please, leave.”

Changbin scoffs. “Not happening. I told you.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Tough shit.”

“Get the fuck out of my dorm!” Chan yells, a pulsing throb spiking his temples to settle behind his eyes, hot and painful. His chest flutters and stomach clenches; he sways dangerously. Jisung drops the trash, rushes to Chan’s side, wraps his arms around the elder’s neck.

“I’m so sorry, hyung.”

Fuck.

Why did they have to show up for him? Why couldn’t they have just left him to rot? He was well on the way. Could have faded. Would have been so easy. Now he has to face that his heart is so utterly fucking broken the jagged edges pierce his lungs and fill them with blood. He can’t fucking breathe. Just cries. Sobs like he hasn’t since he was a child. Jisung holds him tightly.

“She—” He chokes. “She said I was a—”

“Don’t, hyung. It’s okay.”

Changbin watches, expression sombre.

“We’re here now,” he says. “We’re never going anywhere.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 - 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚! 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙢𝙚 ♡ >

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

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