ti

22 | villain

[xdinari]

What Are We Fighting For?

word count: 17k tags: ot6 (not y/n), band!xh, found family, mostly jiseok centered(? but it's really about everyone, junhan and jooyeon second centered, jiseok x jooyeon on tthe side but it's not the main plot, mostly angst, hurt and comfort, jooseok smokers, lost dreams, insecurities, they say some mean things to each other, they are all going through it and fighting with each other, someone please give jiseok a hug, hyeongjun is the glue of the group, jooyeon desperately wants to keep this band together, gunil gets bullied (lovingly), seungmin and jungsu are constantly at each other's throats, jiseok hates himself i'm so sorry dude is really not having a good time, everyone is suffering, but they really love each other so very deeply, happy ending plot: Things have been going downhill for months...for everyone. Between break-ups, constant fights, stressed outbursts and self worth issues they really don't seem to be able to get out of the slump but for some reason they still hold on. That's until Jiseok fucks up. More than once. A story about communication, friendship, loneliness, love, fighting for what you love and hope. A story about being lost and found.

It's a chilly fall night. Another dreadful day passed and neither of them feel any better than they did a week ago. What used to be a loud and cheerful house was now filled with silence and awkward tension. 

They are still stuck together. They had no other choice, nowhere else to go, but now? Now Gunil choses to spend more time with his college buddies than share a space with Jungsu, Jooyeon locked himself in the garage they use as a practice room and Jiseok is…absent.

Usually, he was the first to ask them to hang out, excitedly running up to them to blabber about this new show he just started watching. However, nowadays, they barely saw him unless they had to practice. No one seemed to know what he was doing most times, not even Jooyeon.

It was odd. It was saddening. Jooyeon and Jiseok who were once attached to the hip, getting told off by Seungmin for making too much noise too late at night, barely were seen in the same room together and when they were, the conversation never moved past a polite ‘Have you eaten today?’.

It’s hard to pinpoint what was the exact moment where it all started to fall apart. If you were to ask, each one of them would have a different answer because unfortunately, they all blamed each other. 

FIVE MONTHS AGO: SEUNGMIN

Seungmin purses his lips with a small nod, watching the familiar figure walk away as he quickly wipes the tears off his cheeks, pathetically tapping them a few times in an attempt to erase any signs of crying.

It sucked. Everything sucked. Every single thing that could be going wrong lately has been going wrong: constant fights, they never managed to get anything better than a few bar gigs and if that wasn’t enough he now lost one of the most important people in his life. ‘You care more about them than you ever cared about me.’ are the last words he heard before being left stranded alone in the middle of the cold and lonely night. 

Jungsu isn’t sure how, but something inside him told him to go out on his terrasse. When he did, his hands gripped on the cold balustrade. “Hyeongjun?” The older one calls out to the guitarist and when he arrives with a confused expression and looks down, his eyebrows knit at the scene in front of them. 

That night started it all for Seungmin. He started resenting the guys and in retrospect, they had no fault, but still…weren’t they the reason he’s currently trying to hold back tears at every single band practice?

“Can you stop always being so stuck-up and think you know everything just because of your stupid perfect pitch?” Seungmin smacks his synth angrily, only for Jungsu to scoff with a tilt of his head, pointing to him. 

“You know what? Maybe if you put in more work and learned some fucking theory we wouldn’t have to go through the same thing all over again!” The older bites, causing the drummer to speak up.

“Can you two stop being so childish?? We have to get this over with!” Gunil hits his drums once to get their attention, the two men turning their heads towards him. “I’m so tired, I just wanna go home!” 

“Oh my GOD! Do you ALWAYS have to be all up in everyone’s business? NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU!” Jungsu widens his eyes at him after clasping his hands in disbelief. 

“Guys please, just–calm down!” Hyeongjun tries, raising his voice just enough to cut through the moment of silence but still keeping some softness in it, not wanting to make the situation worse.

At that, Jiseok laughs wholeheartedly. A full, loud, manic laugh. “Yeah guys, listen to the guy that has been spending the entire day sleeping instead of practicing his solo! How many times did you fuck up in the past thirty minnutes, huh? Was it five? Ten times?” The silver haired boy turns his body to stare at the other guitarist accusatory.

When Jooyeon notices Hyeongjun’s lips part perplexed with a small shaky breath leaving him, he calls out Jiseok. “Dude, what the fuck is your problem?” The bassist lightly pushes his best friend’s shoulder angrily. “You want to talk shit? Let’s talk about how you were almost one hour late, yeah?” 

Jiseok blinks at him, as if betrayed. “‘course you’d defend him.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek with a twitch of his lip, nodding once before angrily starting to strum at his guitar. Jooyeon gives him a glance, chewing on his bottom lip irritated before following up, and soon enough they are back to practicing. 

PRESENT DAY

Things were like this now: fight, say things you regret, go back to practicing and repeat the cycle every single day. It was a living hell and for some godforsaken reason, none of them knew how to let go of it.

Today, however, has been quiet for most part. Not because they got better, but because they figured out the perfect formula: not see each other unless it was for practice and the more they were out of the house, the better. 

No one ever thought that things would ever end up like this. They weren’t supposed to end up like this! The one reason this whole thing even started was because each one of them needed a reason to move forward, a way to let all of that pain and worry out and at the beginning, it really was beautiful. 

They used to think it was the type of bond found once in a lifetime, the kind that people read about and songs are written for. It worked out, even with small bickering because Gunil had to tell Jiseok to pick up his empty chips bag from the couch or the numerous times when Seungmin and Jooyeon would race to the bathroom to shower first.

It was a small place, the six of them crumbled together because they only had each other to rely on, but it was perfect. Even the playful fights in the mornings when Jungsu tried to brush his teeth while Gunil tried to shave, the long conversations between Seungmin and Hyeongjun on the balcony or Jooyeon and Jiseok staying in while everyone else went for a run because they much rathered play their video games.

It wasn’t the cookie-cut life any of them imagined, but it was more than they could ever ask for. There was never a dull day, and even the small disagreements were quickly resolved, either by the two involved getting a smack over their heads and getting told to get a grip, or by Hyeongjun simply frowning.

Jooyeon, especially, was the one that made sure to make things work even when they shouldn’t have. It became a habit: something seemed to start slipping through the cracks? He’d run with hot glue to quickly repair it before anyone could even start to notice.

The members saw it as kindness, but deep down, Jooyeon knew it was nothing short of selfishness: he wanted — no, he needed this to work. His entire life, he prayed for a connection like this, for a friendship like this, having people around him that were just as passionate about music as he was and that were more than willing to try to make themselves heard. 

It was desperation. If this fell apart, Jooyeon’s dreams, his entire life would fall apart. That is exactly why, when Seungmin broke Jungsu’s keyboard stand when he wasn’t home, he made sure to quickly look up a tutorial on how to fix it before the older one got home. That’s also why when Jiseok almost left the house after a heated argument with Gunil he made sure to take his best friend out for a meal and calm him down.

It worked most times. Well, it used to. Back when things were easy. Back when he didn’t blame Jiseok for the mess that’s been fogging his head. 

NINE MONTHS AGO: JOOYEON

“Ayy come onn, you cheated!” The younger man groans at the rock paper scissors lost game, throwing his head back in frustration as Jiseok makes a victory dance before helping his friend take the bass strap off his shoulder and placing it on the other one.

“And you’re a sore loser, c’mon, smile for the camera!” Jiseok chimes happily as the whine escapes Jooyeon’s lips at the odd feeling of having to hold his bass in a mirrored position. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t argue with me over the chord progression. So really, it’s your fault.” 

The bassist squints at him, sighing before sloppily trying to play the song the two of them have been practicing for hours. They all got along, but for some reason ever since the first day Jiseok’s eyes fell on Jooyeon he thought to himself ‘Ah, this is going to be my best friend.’ Ever since the younger found out about it, there’s been an ongoing joke that he’s a blessing fallen from the sky for Jiseok. 

However, although he would never admit it out loud, Jooyeon would argue that it’s the other way around. Whenever he felt like maybe music wasn’t for him, that maybe he didn’t have something as important as others to deliver, Jiseok was always the first person to snap him out of it, whether it be by letting him quietly cry on his shoulder or by cracking a lame joke like ‘Have you seen the Billboard Top100 lately? Please.’ and rolling his eyes before laughing.

It’s hard to explain, the sudden feeling that bloomed in his chest with no warning, or how it even happened. All Jooyeon knows is that while he was gloriously failing to play and Jiseok shoved the camera in his face with a teasing smile, something clicked. When his eyes met the other’s as his face was only inches away and he had that boyish grin, a terrifying thought spiraled into his head ‘What would happen If I leaned in?’. 

“Haha your look at the end, fuck!!” Jiseok cracks up, holding onto his stomach as the other mimics his amusement because really, what else can he do?

PRESENT DAY

Jooyeon became a master at pushing every single thought like that away, locking himself away in the practice room and turning his music loud enough to make his ears bleed just to ignore what he knows is a suicide mission for the group. 

Most of them learned to avoid their issues, and that’s exactly why lately, when fights happened it wasn’t just small arguments that got settled in an hour maximum. Now, the tension lasted for hours, sometimes days. Things never really got talked about all the way through. They were all scared that if a long, mature conversation were to happen, the outcome would be the one thing that they are all so desperately trying to avoid. A word that they don’t even mention out of the sheer fear of somehow making it a reality.

Getting ready for practice, it was only Jungsu and Hyeongjun at the house. Seungmin having left two hours before to take a stroll around the city, Gunil already at the practice room, probably letting his hands bleed out from how long he’s been playing for just to make sure no one can blame him if practice goes sideways followed close behind by Jooyeon. 

The two are arguably the ones that least enjoy the fights. Hyeongjun is always the one to silently observe, ignoring the headache caused by all the screaming and waiting for the opportune moment to deflate the situation.

“Tsk–can you move? Jesus Christ, hoarding the kitchen like you live alone.” The older scoffs as he tries to move past Hyeongjun to grab his water bottle, and the younger does what he does best: moves away quietly, makes himself small, and shuts up for the sake of it.

Jungsu too, is mostly a level-headed man, and he takes pride in working harder than anyone else into bettering himself. The one downside is that when he gets overwhelmed and stressed, he takes it out on the people closest to him. Not by proximity, but by how much he loves them.

It’s stupid, he knows it. He knows he should check himself and not let himself get so much into his head and let all of those insecurities about how no matter how much he improves is not enough pour onto the few people that care about him, but he can’t help it. 

FOUR MONTHS AGO: JUNGSU & GUNIL

He’s sick. His voice is terrible, he’s got a runny nose and he can barely press two keys without coughing. “Are you alright?” Gunil frowns, walking through the door after his shift and making his way to the middle of the living room. 

Jungsu was standing behind his keyboard with a frustrated look and rosy cheeks, sweat dropping down his neck as the fever was taking over. “I’m fine.” He argues, restarting the song from the beginning. 

It was one of the few days when everyone was busy or hanging out with someone and the pianist figured it was the perfect moment to practice, even though they all slept for a total of maybe four hours yesterday from the constant practice sessions.

The contest is right around the corner and unless some outworldly force postpones it or heals Jungsu, they’re astronomically fucked. He knows. They all know, but they’re too scared to say it out loud, so everyone just gives each other quiet glances when he’d mess up a note or have a voice crack and shoot a supporting smile.

“Hey, you should rest…Did you take an Ibuprofen? I can make you some tea, you should wear breathable clothes, you shouldn’t force your voice-” Gunil tries, placing the back of his hand over the younger’s forehead, only to have it harshly swatted away with an annoyed stare. 

“If I rest, who's gonna do the singing, huh? You?” Jungsu growls, trying to play again, leaving the other to blink at him taken aback. Gunil had a bad habit of always trying to fix things that weren’t his to fix: Seungmin’s heartbreak, Jiseok’s outbursts and now Jungsu’s sickness.

He always tried to take care of everyone, feeling a sense of responsibility for being the oldest and making sure to always be there for everyone, even when he felt like no one was there for him and now it was no different. 

He’s been feeling down for some time, everyone around him seems to constantly have an issue or have a hard time and for the first time in a long time, Gunil felt helpless. He didn’t know how to make it better, make it easier, let them know it will all be alright because quite frankly, he wasn’t sure it will be. 

Gunil doesn’t start a fight. He simply stares at his friend with a pained expression, before picking his backpack up again, throwing it over his shoulder and leaving the house, because the last thing he wants is to let Jungsu see him cry. So there was the pianist, staring into the distance, a small voice in the back of his head screaming at him to call after his friend, go after him, apologize for being an ass just because he’s frustrated and yet, he doesn’t. 

Jungsu stays frozen in place, eyes drifting to the hand that swatted the older’s away, before clearing his throat and starting the song again. 

PRESENT DAY

Jiseok lets his steps drag just a little slower against the concrete as he makes his way towards the practice room. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t even be going. He’s so tired of pretending like everything is alright, like they’re just some joyful kids trying to reach their dreams.

He’s tired of pretending that he’s useful. He’s trying, hell, he’s been trying. That’s all he ever did: try to be better, try harder, try to be worthy. Back in middle school, he thought he had it all figured it out when he started playing guitar. Life started making sense, it seemed brighter and the constant teasing voice inside his head that kept repeating that there’s nothing in this world he’s good at finally shut up.

Finding the guys, Jiseok thinks, was one of the best things that could have ever happened to him. Finally finding a purpose, people that cared about him and loved him for simply existing without him having to desperately put on a show just to be given an ounce of attention, made him understand that life isn’t as cruel as he thought it was.

That was until the contest. No one wants to say it out loud, or admit it, but Jiseok has always been too smart for his own good and he knows that deep deep down, they blame him. All of them, even Jooyeon. It’s not like they were perfect, their set had a lot of room for improvement, Jungsu was clearly sick and the sound mixing was all wrong but they still had a shot. 

Until, Jiseok fucked up. Big time. Somehow, God knows how, his pick fell out of his hand and in pure shock he was left staring down at his guitar like some sore loser before strumming away with his fingers as if nothing was wrong. It wasn’t enough, though, the judges saw. The guys saw it too: the mortified expression, the frozen hands, the way his Adam's apple moved when he gulped.

In his opinion, that was really what started this mess. Four months ago, when he made a rookie mistake during what could’ve been a once in a lifetime opportunity. Hyeongjun tried to comfort the group saying they can use this as a learning experience, but he saw the anger disguised as indifference in Seungmin’s eyes and the way Gunil turned his head when Jiseok glanced at him.

They all messed up, but Jiseok was the cherry on top, the final reason the judges needed. He knew it deep down, that he’s the reason they still didn’t make it. Some might call it dramatic, believing a small mistake, a failed contest was enough of a reason for a person to feel as guilty as he did, but it’s not.

It’s not just that. It was never just that. Ever since he was a kid, Jiseok made sure to follow rules, spend extra time studying, diligently practice so why, why has he spent the majority of his life wondering when he will finally see results? 

A feeling that never disappeared completely, but was stored somewhere in the back of his mind, was now the only recurring thought he had. He can try to brush it off with a laugh, roll his eyes with a smile when Hyeongjun argues with him about how badly he set up the tone of his guitar or flick his wrist dismissively whenever Jooyeon would ask him what’s wrong, but that doesn’t seem to make it hurt less.

He misses the person he once was. The young kid with a big smile and a bright future ahead, who found comfort the moment his fingers caressed the frets of the guitar he begged his friend to let him borrow. Back then, even if it was hard, even if he didn’t know how to improve or if he was even capable of it, it was worth it. 

Every single time he’d pick up the guitar, he’d feel like all his worries washed away and that no matter how much of a shitty day he would have, at the end of the day, there was still something to look forward to. He used to spend his days waiting impatiently to get home and find peace in the one thing that he never felt like he had to prove himself in.

Guitar, for Jiseok, used to be the one thing he didn’t have to pressure himself. The one moment in his day where he could let loose and enjoy himself, regardless of how good he was at it. You’d think that getting better at it, being in a band, getting closer to his once too far-fetched dream would only motivate him but instead? It made his chest tight. It made his hands shake in anger every time he’d get the same chord progression wrong and it would make him remember…You’ll never be as good as you want. You will forever be stuck.

He’s lost. With himself, with the guys, with music…with Jooyeon. For the past few months, they’ve all been butting heads with each other without a break and the one person he used to always side with during stupid fights was now the one he always seemed to find himself yelling at.

Whenever they try to give a reasonable explanation, they’d say it’s because they realized that they don’t have as much in common as they thought they did. However, if he allowed himself to let the truth wander around his mind for a second, he would admit that it’s because he’s scared. 

Ever since that first day, Jooyeon’s been the one person that understood him more than anyone ever has. No matter the situation, all he needed was a silent signal and he’d already not only know what’s wrong but also how to help him. 

Now, though? What could Jooyeon do? What could any of them do? No one gets it. They’re all so obsessed with keeping this up and acting as if there’s still some saving for this shit situation but he knows there’s not. It’s too late.

How could Jooyeon help when he’s the most driven person out of that group and sees music as his life? What could Jiseok possibly have in common with a person like that when every single day since that stupid contest he flinches every time he glances at his guitar and his stomach turns every time his fingers graze over the fretboard? 

It was unfair to hold resentment against his best friend over something the other didn’t even know was a problem, but Jiseok couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stand how happy music seemed to make Jooyeon, how carefree he looked when he sang, how excited he was to learn a new song even though he had a hard time or it was above his skill set. 

Jiseok hates Jooyeon. A hatred that sparked during a quiet night at the apartment while everyone was asleep and they were fighting over the blanket. 

SEVEN MONTHS AGO: JISEOK

He had no intention of letting Jooyeon see him like this, or anyone, really. However, before he could stop himself, a crack in his voice resonated through the silent room. “Joo? Are you awake?” 

That’s all Jooyeon needed. He was fast asleep. He’s been, for an hour or so and yet, somehow, his eyes pop open, instantly getting up from his bed and sitting on the edge of Jiseok’s bed. “Hey- what’s wrong?” The bassist whispers worriedly, hand firmly gripping onto his friend’s shoulder. 

When Jiseok turns his head towards him, eyes puffy and nose colored a pink shade as his tear filled eyes glistened under the moonlight, Jooyeon has to bite the inside of his cheek in order to stop himself from crying as well. Instead, his eyebrows knit slightly, scooting over next to Jiseok on the bed and wrapping his arms around the older’s shoulders instinctively, not minding the ‘Gross snot’ the guitarist kept complaining about. 

Jooyeon smiles slightly, eyes closing as well. “You’re really hard to deal with, even when you’re sad.” The younger whispers with a chuckle, hugging the other harder when Jiseok tries to mumble yet another complaint. 

After an hour or so of crying and pretending Jooyeon’s reassuring and saddening look didn’t make him even angrier, Jiseok closes his eyes and turns his body around. He’s embarrassed himself enough as it is. He doesn’t need to stretch it further. First, he cuts himself by mistake when changing his guitar strings. Then, he gets drenched in rain because he forgot to grab an umbrella and then things just kept piling up. 

Everything that could’ve gone wrong today went wrong: from spilling his coffee in the morning to messing up every single song during practice. The contest was right around the corner and Jiseok felt like he couldn’t breathe most days. This was one of the most important things he’s got going on in his life right now and the mere thought of anything going wrong made him want to vomit.

“Stop- Dude come ON! This is my bed!” The guitarist whines after a few minutes as the younger pulls on the blanket. “Why don’t you go over to your bed?? Even better! Gunil’s room! He’s visiting his parents and Jungsu can come here! You can have the whole thing to yourself!!” Jiseok grunts as he tugs on the blanket, holding back the smile that is about to tug at the corners of his lips. 

“Aye, you cry in my arms and now you want alone time?? Where are your manners Kwak Jiseok~” The younger teases cheerfully, playfully throwing his body on top of Jiseok’s back and brushing his thumb over Jiseok’s dry tears. The room was silent, the moonlight illuminating their faces. Well, Jooyeon’s face, because Jiseok’s face was currently pressed between the mattress and against initial complaints, neither of them made any effort to actually pull away.

“You’ll do well, Ji…You always do.” Jooyeon whispers into the older man's ear, arms caging his body as one hand traces deliberate circles on Jiseok’s shoulder. “And if you don’t, that’s okay too.” 

A lingering kiss on the side of his neck. It didn’t mean anything that it shouldn’t have, Jooyeon was always touchy and although the placement wasn’t something he ever did before, if it was any other day the guitarist wouldn’t even have a second thought about it. If it was any other day, he’d squirm and complain about the younger being too sappy and touchy, but not today.

Today, Jiseok’s heart stops. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. That’s how long he counts, the amount of time he held his breath before exhaling quietly. He keeps his eyes closed, mentally cursing himself because it’s a stupid thought that’s been lingering around his brain since day one and now it was finally too loud to ignore.

PRESENT DAY

Jooyeon misses Jiseok. He misses his best friend, the guy who would somehow talk more than he does, the dude that would swear up and down he’s better at videogames than he is even though they both know it’s a lie. He misses the one person in the world who somehow always made the dumbest decisions while at the same time being the smartest person in every room he walked in.

He misses the person he so desperately wishes was his lover. 

Jooyeon started resenting Jiseok for it. How could he so easily walk away? Act like nothing happened? As if he meant nothing? As if they meant nothing. The irritation was also due to the fact that the bassist had such an overwhelming amount of love and care in his heart for the other that every time their eyes locked he found himself parting his lips, trying to finally say what he’s been holding in, only for Jiseok to look the other way.

All of those messy, intense feelings soon started to translate into annoyed scoffs and snappy comments which most times turned into nasty fights, even about something as insignificant as the order of the songs on their setlist. Jiseok was no better. He fueled the fights. He lived for them, because yelling at Jooyeon was a million times easier than letting himself get carried away again and repeat the mistake of that one night when they were laying on the grass. 

SIX MONTHS AGO: JOOYEON & JISEOK

It’s hard to remember how they ended up like this. All Jooyeon can remember is that they had a really good day in months. Band practice went smoothly, somehow they managed to go a full day without any major fights (mostly because they’ve all been too busy to see each other for more than one hour) and Jiseok even got praised in the morning when he and Jooyeon went busking. 

“I really think you’re exaggerating.” Jiseok laughs embarrassed, arms behind his head as he looks up at the stars. The night was colder than usual, but the sky was clearer too, so neither of them minded laying on the ground next to the lake, knees brushing as a lame excuse of dealing with the cold by being close to each other. 

“I really don’t think I am.” Jooyeon shakes his head with a wide grin, head turning to look at Jiseok. He thought he’d get used to it by now, the way his heart does a little skip every time his eyes meet the guitarist’s, but he didn’t. It still catches him by surprise, and he’s too happy to see him have a good day after such a long and tiring month to care about pretending his eyes don’t scan his face as his smile widens. “Why don’t you ever celebrate your wins?” 

Jiseok glances at his friend, before turning his attention back to the stars, shrugging absentmindedly. “I guess I just never see them as wins.” He rasps, pursing his lips for a moment. “Nothing’s a win, but there’s failure.” 

The bassist frowns, tilting his head in disapprovement. “It’s fine if you don’t think there’s any wins. But if that’s the case, you can’t let yourself believe in failure either.” Jooyeon huffs, making the older look back at him with an amused expression, barely holding back a laugh.

“What are you? The self-consciousness police?” Jiseok asks, baffled, laughing wholeheartedly at the younger’s determined and smug nod, mentally slapping himself for letting his stomach turn at such a simple thing. 

They both spend a good few seconds laughing, making fun of the other for being more idiotic and arguing that it’s the opposite way. Jiseok suddenly feels a rush of adrenaline when watching Jooyeon’s eyes sparkle under the dimmed park lights. 

Jooyeon, on the other hand, found his eyes drifting to the other’s lips far too many times and he truly doubts that he was sneaky enough with it for Jiseok to not notice. He did notice. And when he noticed, the guitarist let his eyes linger over the younger’s features for long enough to allow Jooyeon to call him out on it, make a joke about it or look away.

They didn’t look away. They didn’t move. The laughter slowly died down, and now the once rowdy and lively atmosphere shifted into something quieter, more intimate. They weren’t strangers to moments like these. Against popular belief, both of them found comfort in the late night deep conversation and silent ambience. 

Jiseok is the first one to move. It’s subtle and barely noticeable, but it’s there. He tilts his chin so he’s now closer to the other, a small lopsided smile creeping on his face involuntarily when a soft breath escapes Jooyeon’s lips. Before they knew it, the both of them closed the distance. 

It wasn’t a mistake, it was intentional. Sure, they might have leaned in slow enough for it to be a surprise when their lips touched, but they wanted this. No, they needed this. Jiseok’s eyes kept shifting, as if searching for any sort of doubt, while Jooyeon’s hands curled into tight fists at the base of his hoodie, as if to ground himself. 

The first time their lips touch, it’s barely a brush of lips, one last chance for any of them to pull away. They don’t. Of course they don’t, they’ve been waiting for this for longer than they can remember and they’d be damned if they let anything, even the loud motorcycle passing by, take this moment away from them.

Jooyeon is the first one to make a definitive decision. He moves his hand away from his hoodie and cups Jiseok’s cheek with a shaky sigh before finally kissing him the way he’s been dreaming of. It’s not a hard kiss, but the grip on his friend’s cheek is firm, trying to memorize every inch of his face as he lets his lips move against the older’s lovingly. 

It’s strange. They never kissed before and yet, the kiss is so very familiar. Maybe it’s because they know each other too well, or maybe it’s because this is exactly how they both imagined it would feel like ever since the thought first spiraled into their head.

It isn’t too soft, but it isn’t teeth clinking and lip biting either. It’s just right. It’s them. It’s Jiseok’s ragged breath as a smile plays on his lips when he leans in closer. It’s Jooyeon’s shaky hand moving to cup the back of the older’s head in order to make sure he’s not dreaming.

None of them care about their surroundings right now. All they care about is the feeling of pure bliss overwhelming them, one of Jiseok’s hands now cupping Jooyeon’s jaw as well as the younger’s hand moves from the guitarist’s jaw to his waist to tug him closer. 

There was no one else around, and that only made the moment feel even more overwhelming. They couldn’t blame this on alcohol, on a silly joke. They couldn’t run away from it. 

It wasn’t hard, though, none of them wanted to even pretend this wasn’t exactly what they wanted to do. Jiseok keeps one hand on Jooyeon’s cheek as the other hand grabs his collar, holding it tightly in a fist, closing his eyes tighter. He doesn’t want to loosen up his grip or pull away to breathe. It’s fine, it’s whatever, he doesn’t need air. He needs to kiss Jooyeon until he passes out.

Jooyeon’s thumb caresses the back of the guitarist’s head as he lets out a ragged exhale, letting himself finally smile in the kiss. He’s never felt more relief and bliss in his life and he can’t even be bothered to think about the logistics of everything right now. What will happen once they pull away? How will this change what they have? What does this mean for the band? 

He doesn't know. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is holding Jiseok tightly as if at any moment now this will violently get ripped out of his hand.  He, unfortunately, was right. 

The call from Hyeongjun pulls them out of their silly fantasy world. This makes the two jolt away, pulse quickening and eyes wide. The loving and intimate moment that made them forget how things actually were now crumbled down, the both of them sitting up straight on the grass with a cough, avoiding each other’s gaze. Of course, what were they thinking? Being together in these circumstances would only make things harder for everyone, even something as simple as a kiss could ruin the band.  

“Ah sorry i-” Jiseok starts with wide eyes, looking back at his friend with labored breathing. He doesn’t know what he wants to say, what he wants to think. He’s never been more sure about how right something felt than he did two minutes ago while kissing Jooyeon and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to own up to it. 

“Yeah no, I get it me too yeah we should- we should–” The bassist starts, mind still foggy and his lips now plumped and covered in the other’s saliva and God he knows this was a mistake and that this could complicate things but the only thing he wants to do right now is tell Jiseok to have a grown up conversation, deal with it and go back to kissing.

His train of thoughts, however, quickly gets interrupted by what Jooyeon thinks is the single most painful sentence he has ever heard. “This never happened?” Jisseok’s voice is groggy, and the bassist can see the hesitation in the older’s eyes, but he knows it’s the right call.

Jooyeon doesn’t want to agree to it. He wants to grab his friends by the shoulders, shake him and yell at him for even daring to propose something as idiotic as pretending they didn’t both want this. “Yeah, this never happened.” He finds himself nodding, because even though it’s the last thing he wants, the saddened look in Jiseok’s eyes and the way his shoulders slump is clear enough of an indicator that trying to press onto the matter would do him more harm than good. After all, what type of person would Jooyeon be if he didn’t put the needs of the person he loves most far above his own?

PRESENT DAY

Ever since that day, Jiseok made it a personal mission to never let himself get that close to Jooyeon ever again (he also failed, but that’s a conversation for later). Things followed the same as usual ever since then, at least for the most part, but they both knew something shifted. Jooyeon spent days on end trying to pretend that night never happened, but it was hard to when for the longest time having Jiseok in front of him and not being able to kiss him felt physically painful.

So, here they were–all of them–playing diligently as if their life depends on it. Hyeongjun’s eyebrows knit slightly, looking up from his guitar for a split second in worry. Something’s wrong. He doesn’t know what, he can’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he can feel it. 

It might be the tense atmosphere that seemed to surround them every time they all got together, or maybe the tiredness from having practiced the same tune one too many times. He tried to brush it off, tell himself that he’s being dramatic, that it’s just some anxiety-driven response to everything that has been going on lately. 

In an alternative, perfect universe, he would be wrong about it. That unsettling feeling would remain just that: a feeling. However, life isn’t perfect, it’s far from it. So far that against all of Hyeongjun’s silent prayers that today will be different, he was right.

The sound was slightly off. No one seemed to notice it, at least not right away, and he can’t blame them. It was just a hint of note misplacement, an almost passable chord progression gone wrong that in any other setting, the combined noise of the instruments would’ve swallowed it up. Not this time, though.

Jiseok’s pick fell. 

Hyeongjun is the first one to notice it, even before the blonde. When Jiseok’s hands hit the burnt metal strings that he’s been strumming at for hours with a screeching sound, the world stops.

About five seconds of pure silence, glances shared between each other as they knew well enough what was coming: another fight, another screaming match, another heavy day. Whenever things like these happened, they all had vastly different reactions: Seungmin always looked disappointed, hands on his hips as he’d let out a small sigh, probably to hold back from saying something he’ll regret later. Gunil and Jungsu, bit their lip in annoyance as they quickly let go of their instruments just to make sure they wouldn’t angrily hit them.

Jooyeon however? A purse of his lips, as if mentally preparing himself for war, before turning his bass’ volume all the way down. Him and Jiseok were always the most confrontational ones and it always made moments like these ten times worse. 

A year ago, they’d all try to somehow deflate the situation before it got too bad but with everything that’s been happening lately, Seungmin started smacking the keys on his synth with a groan, Gunil started throwing his drumsticks on the floor, Jungsu started pushing his keyboard almost making it fall and Hyeongjun…

“YAH!” He yells annoyedly, turning off the sound of his guitar, because he was really really tired of this. It was unbearable, every day seemed longer than the last and it got to a point where even the smallest inconvenience or mistake sent him over the edge. “You haven’t been practicing lately, have you?”

Him, who was usually calm, always willing to listen and keep his mouth shut for the sake of it, was now ready to get into a screaming match, one that he’s witnessed far too many times to know how to make it worth his time.

For some reason, the way his voice resonated in the air made everyone stop in their tracks, too shocked to even react in anger this time. Now all there was is surprise, and by the way Jooyeon’s eyes glance at him, even worry. 

However, before the words could leave his mouth, Jiseok tilts his head with an annoyed expression after staring at his empty hand trying to envision the spot between his fingers where the pick was just a few moments ago.

“I’ll be right back.” It all happens in the blink of an eye. The silver haired man quietly takes the guitar strap off his shoulder and in a firm motion throws it on the couch, leaving without looking back. Everyone looks at each other, an unsettling feeling creeping up in their chests, because angry, impulsive, loud, overly stubborn Jiseok was something they’ve sadly gotten used to.

This? Jiseok keeping his mouth shut and not even acknowledging the mistake or any of the guys for that matter? This was terrifying. Out of all the times they’ve fought, screamed, cried, this was a breaking point and they knew it. 

It was clear in the way Jooyeon’s hand gripped on his bass tighter for a split moment, before taking it off and without a word, grabbing his jacket and running after Jiseok. They should be mad at him, for being childish, for running away, being dramatic and acting like it’s the end of the world but somehow, everyone knows: this might be it. 

Jooyeon rushes to him breathing heavily with a worried expression.  He knew where to find him, it was the same place the older always went to when he felt overwhelmed during practice. A spot that he believed none of the guys knew about but of course Jooyeon did. He always did.

The guitarist was looking at the scenery in front of him with an unreadable expression, sipping on his water bottle, letting the smoke of the put out cigarette from next to him hit his face. Everyone assumed Jiseok blamed himself for what happened during the contest, but no one was aware of just how much, the guitarist made sure of it. 

He hid behind small jokes and nervous laughter whenever the topic was brought up, but Jooyeon wasn’t a fool. He held Jiseok in his arms more times than he can remember because of it. Even when he wanted to pretend it didn’t bother him, the younger still made sure to give him a reassuring smile, buy him some snacks or distract him enough for the spiral to stop.

It felt odd, being here after so many months to do the thing he used to take so much pride in: take care of Jiseok. Still, a small smile tugged at his lips watching the figure in front of him. He’s not yelling at him to leave or pushing him away. Jiseok keeps quiet. A silence that in moments like these, Jooyeon knew meant only one thing ‘Even if I end up leaving, I need you to stay with me until I do.’

"I know you’re gonna yell at me for what I’m about to say,” Jooyeon starts after a while, looking up at the sky. “but it's okay.” 

Jiseok looks at him bitterly, tilting his head. "No, It's not okay Joo. It's not fucking okay. It hasn't been okay! For weeks! Fuck, it hasn't been okay for MONTHS!" He raises his voice frustrated, eyes red, making the other flinch slightly. "Wha-Why do you all keep acting like nothing's wrong?? Huh?? What type of sick fucking foreplay is this??"

"You can't- You can't drop this... Not after everything, c'mon you-" Jooyeon frowns, blood starting to boil. 

"I can't? I /can't/?" Jiseok chuckles, irritated, turning his body to him fully, taking a step closer. "Why? Cuz it's not you doing it? Cuz it's not Hyeongjun??" 

Jooyeon's lip twitches. "Why are you being so fucking dramatic?" 

At that, Jiseok scoffs. "Tsk why i-" He scowls, pointing a finger harshly on the younger's chest. "You know the answer so don't make me fucking say it. Look at us, yeah? Look at everything that's been happening. You think I'm wrong for getting sick of it? We're ALL sick of it, Jooyeon!" Jiseok starts, angrily pointing at his chest again. "The difference is that I'm the only fucker in this shit hole of a group that has the balls to say what everyone is so scared of saying out loud!"

The younger takes a small gulp, jaw clenching as his shoulders slump in resignation. “And you think this is gonna fix it?” 

“I don’t care if It’s gonna fix it.” Jiseok grits his teeth as Jooyeon pushes him lightly by the shoulders in anger, pushing back. “It’s not my fucking job.” It’s not the usual outburst, the loud, impulsive yelling the guitarist usually displayed.

He can’t even say he’s angry anymore. He’s tired. It was a small mistake, one that didn’t even have to mean anything, he could’ve just apologized and kept playing or just ignored the missing pick and plucked the strings with his fingers but…it was the last drop. 

It usually works like this: you keep trying, keep going and take way more than you can handle, until a small, insignificative incident breaks you. And when that happens, there’s no going back. There’s no fixing it, no picking yourself back up. The slump that kept getting darker and darker finally surrounded Jiseok in all of its glory without leaving any sort of light slip through the cracks.

“Yeah? You want to run away, then? Take things back again?” Jooyeon asks, tone clearly accusatory and it doesn’t take long for Jiseok to know exactly what he means by that. The older man stops in his tracks giving an irritated nod.

“I’m not running away. I’m done. Do you have any fucking idea how much I’ve been dreading life lately, huh? Do you have ANY idea how hard it’s to wake up every single day and know this all went to shit because of ME?” Jiseok raises his voice, eyes glossy with tears as he points to himself.

“No one said it was your fault!” Jooyeon cries out angrily, running his hands through his hair exasperated. “YOU keep acting like everyone fucking hates you! YOU keep exploding at every little thing someone says! IT’S ALL YOU, JISEOK!” 

“No one HAS to say it!!” The guitarist argues with a pained expression. “I see the way you all look at each other when I make a mistake! You think I don’t?? I’ve been forcing myself to keep this up for almost a year. I was already clinging onto the hope that maybe just maybe we’ll win the contest and I’ll finally prove to myself that I’m not as fucking worthless as I think I am and what did I do? I fucked up. I made all of that hard work go down the drain because my fingers got slippery.” Jiseok says in one breath, the bassist’s eyebrows frowning and a disgusted expression replacing the anger that was present just a few moments ago.

“Why do you keep doing this?? Blaming everything on yourself, acting like some evil low-life idiot? Jungsu was sick, Gunil messed up the tempo, my bass was barely heard, Hyeongjun’s guitar cable kept buzzing and Seungmin messed up the arrangement!” The younger reminds him, counting on his fingers as he steps closer. “We all fucked up, and yet, you’re the only one that plays victim.” 

The words cause Jiseok to blink once, heart dropping to his stomach. “Victim? You think I’m trying to be a victim??” The older scoffs in mock amusement, rubbing his face once before looking back at him. “I’ve been trying to convince myself for a year that sometime soon I’ll finally feel like this is what I’m supposed to do, that this is where I’m supposed to be. For what? To constantly see all of you get better while I get stuck in the same spot I was months ago? To constantly get reminded that if you tried enough even you could be better than me at playing guitar?” Jiseok argues exasperated. “No matter how much I try, no matter how much I pretend, I NEVER GET BETTER! I make the same stupid mistakes, I keep practicing and trying and praying and for what? Huh?”

Jooyeon keeps up a stoic expression, but his heart shatters more and more at each word that leaves Jiseok’s lips. Hearing a person that you hold so dearly to your heart speak so lowly of themselves and think even lower is a kind of pain no one can understand until it happens to them. The younger’s fists unclench from his side, lips parting as his friend belittles himself more and more.

“If it wasn’t for you there would be no band.” Jooyeon rasps, only to earn a displeased scoff from the other. They know it’s true, but right now, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make it better for Jiseok to think that he was the one to gather everyone and start this because if he didn’t, maybe they wouldn’t be in this sort of situation right now.

“Yeah well, that would’ve been better for everyone.” Is the last thing Jiseok says before leaving without looking back, a perplexed Jooyeon staring at the figure disappearing in front of him, breaths heavy and eyes tired. 

When he goes back into the practice room, he freezes at the doorframe, taking in the empty seats. Jooyeon turns his head so his eyes meet Hyeongjun’s, who is currently sitting on the couch with his hands clasped between his thighs while looking at the floor. “Where’s everyone?” Jooyeon’s voice cracks, panic settling in his chest. 

“They left…” Hyeongjun rasps, chewing on his bottom lip, before looking up at the younger. “For good.” The guitarist knew Jooyeon wouldn’t take it well. Out of everyone, he was the one that was most determined to keep everything together, even when it seemed impossible, and for the first time ever, he failed. 

“Well why didn’t you stop them?!” The bassist raises his voice. “Practice’s not done.” Without another word, Jooyeon makes his way to his spot, putting the bass over his shoulder and turning on the amp. The older man closes his eyes tightly for a moment, holding his breath before letting out a small exhale, glancing with a saddened expression at Jooyeon who was singing his heart out.

Two minutes passed, then five, then twenty, and Jooyeon was still diligently playing and singing as if his life depended on it. Hyeongjun could’ve left. He should’ve. After all, everyone else did, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t worried, that he didn’t mind the way Jooyeon’s fingers started bleeding all over his strings from the force he was applying on them, because he did. 

“Jooyeon, come on…It’s over…let’s go home-” The guitarist tries, voice soft and eyes filled with sorrow as he places a hand on his friend’s shoulder, only to have it jerked away. He knew it wouldn't work. He knew that all he’d get back would be a determined ‘It’s not.’ and be dismissed but he still had to try. So, he sighs before stepping outside and dialing the only person that he knew for a fact Jooyeon would listen to. The only person that could fix this, that could bring everyone back.

The phone rings a couple times, but Jiseok is far too busy being all up in his head to fully register the sound to answer. By the time he pulls the phone out of his pocket, the caller has already hung up. Jiseok stares at Hyeongjun’s name displayed on the screen, thumb hovering over the call button, before sighing and putting it back into his pocket, making his way to the convenience store near their house. 

Hyeongjun blames himself for this. Not just partially. He glances back at Jooyeon, head resting against the opened door as he replays the events of today in his head, wondering if keeping quiet the way he always has would’ve resulted in another outcome. Maybe it wouldn’t have tipped Jiseok over the edge, maybe it wouldn’t have destroyed what they worked so hard to build, maybe they’d only have yet another stupid fight, go home and hold on for another day.

FIVE MONTHS AGO: HYEONGJUN

When they first heard about the contest, they thought it would be the perfect opportunity to make their band get some recognition, maybe even bring them closer, but the only thing it did was push them further and further away from each other. They started losing sleep over it, practicing to the point of exhaustion, being jumpy and snappy at every minor inconvenience because of the stress and Hyeongjun is in a constant fight-or-flight mode, always overly weary of conversations and too tired of the fights.

Everyone seems to have a problem with everyone. He doesn’t even understand how it got to this point, it feels like just yesterday they were laughing together after collectively forgetting to bring their own gear for a gig. 

He’s trying so hard to understand how things got out of control as much as they did, but deep down he knows the answer. They all dislike burdening others, it’s one thing that they have in common. Before, that brought them closer, sharing that understanding that sometimes letting others see your pain can feel shameful. Him and Seungmin once had a long conversation about it, promising each other to let themselves be more vulnerable with the guys, but it never ended up happening.

It was hard to talk about your hardships to the person in front of you when you knew how hard they had it. It felt selfish, and unfortunately, that is one of the main reasons things got as messy as they did. When Seungmin got broken up with, instead of asking him about it, he remembers giving him a knowing glance when he came back home before quietly getting into his room.

When Gunil missed his parents, he didn’t call out for Jungsu to have a shoulder to cry on. Instead, he locked himself in his room and muffled his sobs into his pillows while listening to his favorite band. Jiseok heard him, but instead of knocking on his door, he closed his eyes tightly and walked past the door, faking ignorance. 

Each and every single one of them was a ticking bomb. Instead of relying on each other, they acted as if they were all alone, and that’s exactly how it ended up feeling. Hyeongjun no longer felt like he was part of a special thing with people he loved. He felt as if he was still here out of obligation, because of the comfort of doing what you’ve gotten used to, not because he wanted to but because you were too scared to do something else. 

Out of everyone, he might be the one that carries the least resentment for the others. After all, don’t they want the same thing? Aren’t they working towards the same goal? Aren’t they supposed to be a team? Shouldn’t they ask about each other? Trust the others to listen to their issues? Aren’t they supposed to care enough to notice when something’s wrong with one of them?

So how come that even now, when Hyeongjun stares at the email on his phone with a lump in his throat, head buzzing as he reads the words ‘You’ve been dismissed’, he’s expected once again to be there for others before he can try to handle his own problems?

Everyone, since day one, always looked in his direction whenever issues would arrive. Whether it be relationship problems or help with a song part that kept not working, Hyeongjun always seemed to be the one to have the answers. It might be because of his composed demeanor, or his ability to prioritize. Either way, he was always the person the others turned to for help and usually, he didn’t mind it. He never did, except now. 

“I kissed Jiseok! I mean- he kissed me, I mean, we both did but you know we were just laying on the grass-” Jooyeon blabbers with wide eyes and unfortunately, Hyeongjun can’t bring himself to care. He can’t. His mind is racing, trying to come up with the most time-effective solution just so he won’t have to embarrassingly admit that he just lost his job and he now needs to find a way to make money so he could still afford his side of rent, and Jooyeon? 

Jooyeon is too busy freaking out about his romantic life to care. To notice. The guitarist’s lip twitches, pulse raising as the younger explains the situation in a panicked voice, before he snaps. “I don’t care!Not right now…Please.” Hyeongjun softens his tone for the last part, eyes glued to the floor. 

The words take the bassist by surprise, making him fully stop in his tracks with his lips parted. He can tell by the way his friend’s eyes flutter shut and his body slumps that he regrets snapping, but he doesn’t leave the way Hyeongjun expected him to.

Instead, Jooyeon reaches for the other’s phone and quietly reads the e-mail, pursing his lips as an unbearable amount of guilt starts to flood his body. He was so obsessed with his own problems that he didn’t even notice the way Hyeongjun was still wearing outside clothes in the house, something that he usually only did when he was too out of it to care.

Jooyeon doesn’t apologize. Instead, he lets out a small understanding huff before walking over the fridge and grabbing two beers, sitting next to the guitarist. “We’ll figure it out.” 

It was a small gesture, but Hyeongjun nearly cried when the cold can of beer touched his hand. It was Jooyeon’s way of saying ‘I see you, I care.’ and that’s more than what he could’ve asked for. 

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, the tension from before now gone, they each ended up talking about their worries and after a long time, Hyeongjun felt at ease. 

“I don’t think anyone would have an issue with it, you know?” He notes, tilting his head to look at Jooyeon. He knew the actual reason they were scared of it, but the reassurance was still something he wanted to give Jooyeon because he would like to believe that he knows them well enough by now to be sure of the fact that they’d be nothing short of happy for them.

“It’s not the guys…” The younger frowns, looking at the ceiling with his head resting against the couch. “If it goes sideways, it’ll affect the band. Isn’t that unfair to everyone?”

Hyeongjun hums, resting his head on the couch as well, looking at the ceiling too. “But if you live like this, isn’t it unfair to you two?” 

The words hang in the air as Jooyeon tilts his head towards him, causing Hyeongjun to look back at him as well. As if on cue, the apartment's door swings open, a very frustrated and irritated Jiseok staring at the scene in front of him.

They know how it looks. They also know Jiseok, so him letting out a displeased almost betrayed chuckle didn’t come as a surprise. Jooyeon was about to get up, rush after him, explain, but as soon as he gets up from the couch he blinks.

He doesn’t have to give him an explanation. He doesn’t need to apologize for something that looks wrong. After all, it was Jiseok who started distancing himself first, so why should he be the one to fix things? So, against his initial reaction, he plops back down on the couch and turns on the tv. And Hyeongjun? He doesn’t leave his side.

PRESENT DAY

Ever since that day, things got tense between the two guitarists. Hyeongjun started rolling his eyes at Jiseok’s snarky jealousy remarks that were grounded on nothing really, and Jiseok started taking more offense whenever Hyeongjun would try to discuss technicalities with him. 

Jiseok hated how close the two got. It was supposed to be him by Jooyeon’s side. He was supposed to be the one the younger would go to when he’d have a hard time and they were supposed to be special. Yes, he started pulling away, because what else was he supposed to do? Look him in the eyes every single day and have him at arms’ length 24/7 and not kiss him? 

Ignoring him and giving Jooyeon the cold shoulder was easier. Getting mad at Hyeongjun for getting closer to his best friend than admitting this never would’ve happened if he wasn’t stupid enough to kiss him was easier too.

All of this just further proved that Jiseok was exactly who he thought he was: a mess of an incompetent asshole that always ruins everything. He can’t play guitar the way he’d like, he can’t sing the way he’d like, he can’t love Jooyeon the way he’d like and now? He can’t even keep together the group he himself was so insistent on creating in the first place. No matter what he did, Jiseok was always stuck in a limbo of negativity that seemed to follow not only him, but everyone who ever dared to get too close. So, wouldn’t it be better if he simply disappeared? If he made it easier for everyone and let go of this so they could finally be happy?

It’s too cold and too late, but the guitarist really couldn’t care less. Being in the middle of the street and drinking a can of beer while looking at the disregarded guitar on the ground sounded ten times better than going home and seeing everyone avoid looking in his direction, blaming him for the way things ended. The worst part is that most of them still had to spend some time living together until they figured out the logistics of everything.

That night, regretful and drunk, Jiseok came back to a dark and quiet apartment, noticing the suitcases waiting at the door. Gunil was the first to pack up his things, having called his parents and Seungmin followed close after. Jungsu and Hyeongjun chose to stay in the apartment, trying to hold onto some sense of normality while Jooyeon well…he never came back home that day. 

He knew he couldn’t stand the idea of watching everything fall apart in front of him, so he chose to crash over at a friend's house until the morning. Jiseok could’ve called his parents, go back home, but hasn’t he embarrassed himself enough as it is? So, he simply takes off his clothes and slumps on the bed.

The decision for everything to end was a quiet one. There was no big fight, no yelling and blaming, just a simple “It’s done.” coming from Jiseok’s mouth when he got back. To think back on it, they were cruel, especially to Jooyeon. He didn’t even have a saying in it, didn’t even get to try to make things right. 

Resent should overwhelm him, he should be angry at everyone and all them assholes but, he can’t. He’s tired. He’s tired of fighting, of trying, of hoping, so instead of desperately calling them and trying to fix it, he, for once in his life, lets things be. 

They all blame themselves for tonight, in their own way. Maybe if Jooyeon tried a bit harder to convince Jiseok and didn’t yell at him, maybe if Hyeongjun didn’t snap, maybe if Jiseok didn’t let his insecurities get the best of him, maybe if Gunil and Seungmin drove to where he was instead of going home, maybe if Jungsu simply said a “No.” and kept playing.

All those maybes and what ifs, clouding their heads. None of them really sleep that night, and in the morning, when Jiseok wakes up, groggy and with a headache, squinting at the light peaking through the window. Everything comes crashing down on him when he hears the faint sound of guitar coming from Hyeongjun’s room.

His eyes widen, snapping his head towards the corner of his room, where his guitar is usually placed, exhaling in terror as he sees the empty spot. “No, no- no, c’mon c’mon-” He jolts out of bed, frantically looking around his room. Jiseok puts his hands in his hair in panic, breaths getting more and more irregular, before checking the time and grabbing his jacket, sprinting out of the house. If he’s quick enough, he might get there before they take the trash out. 

It was odd. Something he started hating so deeply, the thing that once made his life have purpose now being the reason he barely wanted to get out of bed, something he should be glad is gone, causing him this much anxiety when it was finally gone. 

He’s thought about it, more than once, giving away his guitar, maybe even throwing it. Now, though? Now Jiseok is running for his life after the garbage truck that had the guitar mockingly staring at him. “Hold on! Wait! HEY!!” The guitarist tries desperately, holding his breath as he tries to quicken his pace.

Jooyeon didn’t want to go back to the apartment. He didn’t want to see the way something he once considered home became a painful memory. That’s exactly why he was walking around mindlessly, chewing on his bottom lip. As he waits at the crosswalk, his eyes catch sight of a familiar figure running after a garbage truck, eyes close to popping out of his head once he recognizes the man. “Wha-” He mumbles to himself in surprise, before quickly checking the road for cars and sprinting after Jiseok. 

“Hey- Hey! What are you doing?? It’s gone-” Jooyeon breathes heavily, hand resting on the back of his friend, who is now holding onto his knees, resting his head back on the cold tile of the tunnel with a pained expression.

“My guitar…” Jiseok breathes out, rubbing his face in frustration as he refuses to look at the other, causing the younger to widen his eyes more, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Why’s your guitar in there??” Jooyeon asks baffled, searching the guitarist’s eyes, and he can tell he wants to say something, apologize, cry about he was stupid and didn’t realize how much this meant to him until he had it ripped out of his hands and how he was the most ungrateful idiot for not appreciating the guitar and the band overall until it was too late, but he didn't.

Instead, Jiseok just scoffs while trying to walk away while mumbling a resigned “Forget it.” 

“Forget what? What do you mean by that?” At that, Jiseok repeats the phrase and Jooyeon lets out a displeased huff, harshly pulling the guitarist close again. “No." A simple sentence. He stares at the older, eyebrows frowned. “Why do you always do this, Jiseok? Why do you always give up without even trying??" The bassist asks in annoyance.

However, his voice still holds softness. It still holds love. Because, after all, even though the person standing in front of him has been feeling like a stranger for the past few months, when he holds his gaze, he can still see him. 

His Jiseok.

For some reason, the other's eyes get glossier, licking his lips in guilt. “You think I didn't try?" He croaks out, arm dropping on his side although Jooyeon refuses to let go of his sleeve. "I tried! Fuck I- I tried so much, man…I tried to pretend I'll be okay, I tried to pretend that I don't think I'm an embarrassment and a failure to the guys, that I'm worth something, but guess what? I can't. I- I'm not- I just-" 

At this point, Jiseok couldn't see straight, the quickening of his pulse fogging his mind, leaving him too disoriented to form a proper sentence. 

Jooyeon's eyes widen, hands now going into the other's shoulders to steady him. “He- Hey- no-" The taller shushes his friend, trying to calm him down cupping his face, eyes searching him. “Hey, look at me. You're not a disappointment. Or a failure, fuck– Jiseok you're the only reason this band exists in the first place!” 

The silver haired boy lets tears stain his face with a pained expression, shaking his head. " I fucked up. Because of me everyone– everything– is messed up, I- the band, my guitar, us-” 

The last part wasn't meant to be said out loud. Jooyeon can tell by the way his eyes widen and his lips part. He could let it slide, reassure Jiseok some more and run towards the landfill but he sees the way the older man holds his breath, as if terrified of what he just said.

“Us?" Jooyeon whispers, taking a step closer. “There's nothing messed up about us." The bassist breathes out, before pressing his lips on Jiseok's, grounding him by his shoulders and kissing him lovingly.

Jiseok stills for a moment, a small gasp leaving his lips, scared to move. It takes Jooyeon moving one of his hands into the order’s hair to tug him closer while whispering a weakened “Please…”.

A light frown forms on the guitarist's face, before he grabs onto Jooyeon's collar and kisses him back harder, rawer, needier, as if clinging onto him and kissing him was the only thing keeping him alive in this very moment…and maybe it was. 

Jooyeon feels as if the earth has been swept from under his legs, cupping the older’s cheeks desperately, not minding the way the kiss gets messier by the second. He doesn’t care about all of the fights, about the way they haven’t had a proper conversation in months, about anything other than this. The feeling of Jiseok’s lips against his. Deliberate this time, sure of himself, not as a stupid mistake done at eleven at night under the stars. “You’re shaking.” Jiseok whispers between kisses with a barely there smile as he holds onto tighter.

That earns him a breathy chuckle from the younger, who is now smiling with teeth, only making the kiss sloppier. “Yeah, you too.” Jooyeon whispers back teasingly as their noses brush together and God he’s so in love it hurts.

Jiseok finds himself laughing in the kiss as his tears get wiped away by the same thumbs that have done so for the past few years. “Shit, stop-” He tries to mumble something about his runny nose, although he does little to no effort in pulling away.

The taller one pulls away just enough to rest his forehead on the guitarist’s, opening his eyes with a chuckle, wiping Jiseok’s nose with his sleeve. He spends a few seconds simply smiling down at his friend, before widening his eyes. “THE GUITAR, FUCK!” Jooyeon screeches, grabbing Jiseok’s hand and rushing after the long gone truck. 

Somehow, even now, when everything felt lost and Jiseok felt like the biggest failure known to man kind, no hopes of even trying to get his guitar back, Jooyeon still managed to put a smile on his face and make him let out a wholehearted laugh while running with him, because of course he did. 

Seungmin chews on his bottom lip, playing with his finger as he looks at Gunil putting the drumset from the garage in his truck. “Hey…Do you really think we won’t ever see each other again?” 

The memories from last night are still fresh in their heads, the sound of drumsticks hitting the ground before the older one picks them up triggering the last words shared between each other. 

LAST NIGHT

Jiseok swings the door open, only to find Seungmin and Jungsu argue yet again about how the other’s pacing was off, Gunil lecturing Hyeongjun for yelling at Jiseok, and he just snaps. “It’s done. We’re done.” 

The others blink at him, silence evolving the room for a few seconds before Seungmin laughs hysterically. “Ah, that’s it?? We try to make this work against everything and you fuck up once night and decide it’s done?” 

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Jungsu turns his head to face the other, before looking back at Jiseok. “And you? You think this is okay? Jiseok, how many times have any of us gotten yelled at by you, huh? How many times did we have to suck it up and move on? Now Hyeongjun calls you out on your bullshit and you just want to leave?”

Hyeongjun, on the other hand, was frozen in place. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do, what to think. The one time it’s more important than ever for him to speak up, to take control of the conversation, to remind everyone that they shouldn’t act on impulse and throw all of their hard work out the window…he stays quiet. All he can do is watch as everything around him falls apart, starting with Gunil throwing his drumsticks on the floor before getting up angrily and reaching for his backpack. 

“Gunil, man-” Seungmin tries, only for the older to let out a bitter chuckle, tilting his head towards the synth player. 

“I’m so tired of you. Of all of you and– especially of you.” The drummer points to Jiseok’s chest with barely contained anger. “You’re an ungrateful bastard. We’ve all been moving hell and earth just to keep this god forsaken band afloat and you throw it all away because you’re in a bad mood.” He starts, walking towards the door and glancing one last time at the guys. “And you know what? Neither of you are any better. All you ever do is pick fights and act like stupid kids. Grow up.” 

Jiseok scoffs annoyedly at the door closing behind him, putting his guitar in its case as Jungsu and Seungmin still argue in the background. Hyeongjun wanted to cry, to scream, but all he could do was watch. 

“What the hell is your problem dude? Do you think you’re the only person who got broken up with? Ever since that day you started acting like a whiny little bitch oh my GOD get over it already!!" Jungsu complains exasperated, Seungmin’s head twitching in disbelief. 

“Course!! It’s so easy for you to say it!! You’re the whole fucking reason it happened in the first place!” The younger yells, Hyeongjun’s hand still pathetically glued around his guitar, lump in his throat getting bigger and bigger. “If it wasn’t for you getting us a gig the day of my fucking anniversary it would’ve never happened!” 

Jungsu rolls his eyes, grabbing his jacket with a scoff. “That relationship was long dead, I did you a favor.” The pianist bites, turning his head to Jiseok. “And you? You can go fuck yourself, yeah? Look at the mess you made. Are you happy with yourself, Jiseok? Huh? Are you fucking satisfied?? All because your stupid pick fell?” 

“Guys please let’s just- calm down…” The guitarist tries in a wary tone, placing his instrument on the couch, the loud thud of Jiseok slamming the door behind him echoing in the room. 

It doesn’t take long for the other two to follow close behind, leaving Hyeongjun alone, surrounded by instruments and the ghosts of the people he once considered his brothers. 

PRESENT DAY

Gunil looks at his worn out drumsticks, lips pursed at the memories rushing through his head. “Who knows…” The man exhales, lazily throwing his drumsticks in the back of his car. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again sometime.” He gives a small smile, before closing the door to his truck, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he saw Jooyeon’s  figure sprinting from the other side of the street. 

Seungmin seems to have the same impression, because his eyebrows knit together as he takes a few steps forward. “That’s so weird I could swear I just saw-”

Back at their house, Jungsu and Hyeongjun each tried to distract themselves from the current events the best they could: sitting on the cold floor with covers of the songs they once recorded blasting through the headphones and playing on guitar the songs they were working on but never got to release.

Jungsu could still hear the faint sound of Hyeongjun’s guitar resonating through the walls, so when the familiar tune suddenly stops, the pianist gets pulled out of his trance, making his way towards the younger’s room. 

The guitarist stares at the phone ringing from the table with uncertainty, blinking in surprise when Jungsu answers. Hyeongjun has to stop himself from smiling, because it doesn’t mean anything. He doesn’t want to let himself get his hopes up and dream about this being just another stupid fight that they will eventually make up from, but he can’t help it.

He can’t help it because even though they close to punched each other last night and could barely spend more than five minutes alone in a room without arguing, Jungsu still picked up when the other called. “Jiseok needs help.” Seungmin’s hurried voice comes through the speakers, causing the other two to quickly put on shoes. “Gunil and I are driving to the landmill, it’s his guitar-” At that, the two instantly widen their eyes, rushing out of the house. 

It sounds silly, to get this fanatic over a guitar. Especially when it comes to the guitar of the guy that chose to give up on them and the same guy that has been nothing but a ticking bomb lately. But, how could they not care? How could they let Jiseok– impulsive, ungrateful, unaware of how important he is Jiseok, lose one of the most precious things in his life?

They know it’s not about the guitar itself. It’s just a piece of polished wood with some metal strings and he can easily buy another one, but he can’t ever buy this specific one again. Even if he gets the most expensive, exclusive guitar, it won’t be the guitar with which he learned his first song, the guitar that he hugged tightly in relief after getting its broken saddle fixed or hell, even the guitar that he held the first time he fucked up on stage.

No matter how much money he’d spend or how many replacements he could buy, nothing will ever fill the void of losing the one thing that started it all. It was with that guitar that he decided to make the band, and the one he dreaded so much seeing for the past few months. 

Jiseok used to pray that one day he’d wake up and his guitar would be gone, so he’d finally have a good enough excuse to give up and let himself prove to everyone just how much he doesn’t care. Yet, here he is, rain pouring down on him as he stares blankly at the container in front of him burning brightly.

No one dares to speak. All they can do is look at the scene in front of them with heavy breaths and pained expressions, barely bringing themselves to look in Jiseok’s direction. This time, Hyeongjun isn’t  frozen in place. This time, he acts. He’s the first one to move, hand carefully reaching for the other’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It hurt more than Jiseok ever thought it would. It felt as if his heart was being ripped open from his chest and stomped on every time a moment even remotely tied to the guitar passed through his head. The man lets his head fall back, looking at the dark sky in resentment, not sure if towards life or his own idiocy, and does the one thing he’s been avoiding ever since he first met: he cried in front of them. 

Jiseok has always been a vulnerable and emotional person, and everyone around him knows it, but he liked to pretend he was way more carefree than he actually was. The only one out of everyone here that’s seen him cry multiple times was Jooyeon, so when everyone else notices the red glossy eyes and the tears mixing with the raindrops, the bassist wastes no time in pulling Jiseok into a hug.

To comfort him, to hide him, because he knows the older. No matter how heartbroken and helpless he feels, he is still too embarrassed to let himself break down in front of everyone. So, Jooyeon holds him tightly with a pained expression, closing his eyes when he hears a broken “It’s gone-” as Jiseok’s lips brush against his neck. 

Jooyeon hugs the guitarist tighter, everyone sharing a knowing look. Seungmin’s lips press tightly to keep it together and Jungsu holds back his own tears at the sight of one of the strongest people he knows clinging onto Jooyeon as if his entire world crumbled in front of him, when his eyes shift towards Gunil.

It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but he knows that look. Jungsu, who always yelled at him for being overbearing, for always being all up in everyone’s business and for always trying to help even when they didn’t ask for it, needed him. He needed the person he so often took for granted to guide them, to show them what now.

Gunil takes in the scene in front of him for a brief moment, tilting his head towards Jiseok’s direction, before walking up to him and pulling him into a hug as well. Soon enough, everyone followed him and in no time, Jiseok was now surrounded by the people he so selfishly pushed away because of his own fears.

The same guys that yelled at him for being a bastard and an asshole just a few hours ago were now holding him tightly, because even though they fought and yelled at each other, they were still the best thing in each other’s lives. 

Jungsu and Seungmin who just yesterday were going at each other’s throats were now tapping their heads together with a small smile, as if quietly calling the other stupid and Hyeongjun, who yesterday was stuck in his own anxiety, spoke up. “We should grab dinner.” 

At that, everyone erupts in a fit of laughter, even Jiseok who now pulled his head out of Jooyeon’s neck to look at him with a baffled frown as the bassist caresses his hair. “Are you paying?” 

“Fuck no, Gunil is.” Hyeongjun shakes his head, earning yet another laugh from everyone and the drummer rolls his eyes to pretend his heart isn’t more full than it has ever been. 

They still have a lot to talk about, to apologize for, to fix, but one thing was clear: they do want to fix it, they have to. “You know, we never blamed you for what happened at the contest.” Seungmin speaks up while chewing, making the guitarist stop in his tracks, clearing his throat. 

“How’d you-” Jiseok tries, making Jungsu chuckle from the other side of the table. Of course, he was stupid to believe they didn’t notice. They might have kept it to themselves, chose to not talk about it and pretend they didn’t see, but at the end of the day, they know each other better than they know themselves. 

“Why’d you never talk to us?” Gunil frowns, opening a bottle of soju for the younger and placing it in front of him. 

It felt weird, having everyone be so open about their feelings and worries and actually talk things out. It feels as if for the first time in months, they can all finally breathe. Things are still not perfect, obviously. They still need to figure out why the concert took such a bad toll on everyone, if they really are as bad of a match as they seemed to be lately, but finally, after what felt like an eternity, they feel like them again. 

Hearing Jiseok talk about how much he’s been struggling with music lately, how bad things got and how he didn’t want to burden anyone with his problems since he already fucked up enough, only resulted in Seungmin smacking Jiseok’s head. “What the hell is wrong with you, man? What the fuck do you mean you suck ass at guitar? Jungsu sucks ass at guitar, not you!” 

“HEY!” Jungsu calls out offended, the others letting out an amused snicker at the familiar banter. “Gunil sucks ass more than I do!” 

“This is about Jiseok?! How am I still the butt of the joke??” Gunil widens his eyes, scandalized as if his lips aren’t curled into a smile, the unbearable tension that they got so used to somehow completely disappearing before they even realized. 

The conversation goes on for hours on end and although they know it’s not as if things can suddenly be perfect and that they’ll most likely still have stupid fights and hate each other from time to time, they suddenly remember why they were here in the first place.

Come to think of it, Jooyeon finds it poetic: the band started because of Jiseok, it ended because of Jiseok and now, against all odds, it was back because of Jiseok. His eyes shift between the guys, a small soft smile plastered on his face as Jiseok and Hyeongjun get into a compliment competition just to prove a point of who’s a better guitarist, and he realizes he finally belongs somewhere. 

“I’m gonna go for a smoke.” Jiseok announces after a while, grabbing his jacket, having the other guitarist instantly get up with a quick ‘I’m coming with.’. At that, the silver haired man shoots him a questioning look. “You don’t even smoke.” 

“Yeah well, someone’s gotta make sure you come back.” Hyeongjun argues playfully, leaving Jiseok staring at the guys with a dumbfounded expression, mouth wide in shock as they laugh at the exchange, before following the guitarist outside. 

Jiseok leans his back against the wall, lighting up his cigarette, playfully offering Hyeongjun  a puff, chuckling at the taller giving him a nasty stare. A few seconds of silence pass, before he exhales the smoke, looking at Hyeongjun. “‘m sorry y’know…I know I gave you a harder time than with the other guys.” 

The guitarist lets his lips curl into a small smile, watching the ashes fall from the cigarette before looking at his friend, leaning against the wall as well. “It’s okay, if I were you I’d be worried about me and Jooyeon too.” He teases in a small cocky voice, enjoying the way Jiseok stops in his tracks, cigarette between his fingers as it almost falls out of his mouth in shock. “You think I don’t know? With the way you two look at each other, I’d be more surprised if no one else figured it out.” 

Jiseok frowns, mind racing with a joke, an excuse, a lie, but nothing comes out. Nothing except a dumbfounded “How-”.

“Tsk, You people really don’t know how to keep your mouths shut around me, that’s how.” Hyeongjun smirks, putting his hands in his pockets with a snicker. He tilts his head amused, scanning over the other’s face, before his expression gets more serious. “I felt like that too, about guitar I mean.” The man sighs, looking at the sky as he talks. “There will always be someone better than you, Jiseok, no matter how much you push yourself.”

“I don’t want to be the best, though.” The older rasps, looking at the sky as well. “Just wanna feel enough, know I’m not a failure…” His voice drifts away, exhaling the smoke as his fingers brush his bottom lip. “Maybe I’m just not supposed to keep doing this, maybe I should just- find something else.”

At that, Hyeongjun laughs softly, beaming at the older. “You just had a breakdown because you saw your guitar burst into flames and you want me to believe this isn’t it for you?” The younger argues, earning a resigned chuckle from Jiseok, whose heart felt just a tiny bit lighter. “We don’t have to sell out stadiums or have world tours, y’know?” Hyeongjun continues, a small smile present on his face. “We can just have fun and play in the sketchy bars Jungsu somehow keeps finding and if along the way we make some money that’s great, but I thought you started this because you needed an escape. Why would you let it turn into the reason you feel like you need to escape?” 

“But what if the reason we don’t make it big it’s because I’m here? Like if instead of me there was someone else-” Jiseok starts, immediately being interrupted by the other.

“If instead of you there was someone else, there wouldn’t be a band to begin with, Jiseok.” Hyeongjun reminds him, as if offended. “I can’t make your worries go away, neither of us can, but you can’t let yourself fuck up something good because of them. I’m not going to let you.” The younger frowns determined, voice sterner but still soft. “I look up to you, you can’t drop it like it’s nothing.” 

The sentence takes the other guitarist by surprise, staring at his friend for a few moments, before laughing lightly. “Yeah, right.” He shakes his head, taking another puff of his cigarette, before blinking. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious!” Hyeongjun exclaims, exasperated. “Joining this band is the sole reason I didn’t give up guitar back then!” He admits, and it’s as if Jiseok gets to look at him, really look at him, for the first time. 

Hyeongjun was probably the most impressive guitarist he’s ever seen and overall one of the most unique people he’s met, and sometimes, because of how good he is at what he does, it’s easy to forget that really, he’s one of the youngest ones in the group. 

Yet, at this moment, when his eyes meet Hyeongjun’s wide ones, pout present on his lips, he feels like he’s back to that day. The day when a nervous, quiet, low ponytail Hyeongjun showed up with a guitar over his shoulder for the band audition because his case broke. “Why didn’t I know that?” is all Jiseok manages to rasp out.

“Pft, as if you need even more of an ego boost than you already have…” The younger mumbles, biting back a smile when he finds himself being pulled into a side hug with an emotional Jiseok looking at him. That’s when the door to the restaurant opens, Jooyeon looking at them with a raised eyebrow. “I’m gonna go talk about the next band practice with the guys…” Hyeongjun clears his throat knowingly, biting the inside of his cheek as he pulls away.

“What band??” Jiseok calls out, making the other turn around to stare at him unimpressed.

“The band that’s sitting at table five! That band!!” He echoes before closing the door behind him, earning an amused snicker from the bassist. 

Jiseok shakes his head, the corners of his lips curled up as he rests his back on the wall again. “He’s really gonna force me back into the band, huh?” The guitarist hums impressed, looking at the streetlight in front of him.

A small chuckle comes out of Jooyeon who stands next to the older, making sure their shoulders brush. “You were already back in the band the moment we had a romantic group hug in the rain while surrounded by trash~” The bassist jokes, grinning when Jiseok stares at him threateningly for bringing up the vulnerable moment. 

They enjoy comfortable quietness for a bit, and yet, Jiseok can’t help but avoid the other’s gaze. Even if he’d like to focus on the way the smoke dissolves into the air, or the wet cement, all he can do is be hyperaware of how close Jooyeon is. All he can think about is how earlier today their lips were pressed against each other and how he can still feel the faint tingle of his friend’s lips against his. “We have to talk.” Jooyeon whispers, bumping his shoulder against the other’s, making him wake up from his trance.

“Do we really have to?” Jiseok grimaces as the bassist chuckles. He doesn't want to talk. Hell, he doesn’t even want to acknowledge it, because that means owing up to his shit, and that’s the last thing the guitarist knows how to do. It doesn’t help that Jooyeon is suffocatingly close and he can smell the cologne that brings him more comfort than anything else, and how his heart skips every time their shoulders brush.

“I mean, would you rather we talk back home, in your bed, with the door locked so you can’t run away? ‘cuz we can do that too.” Jooyeon rasps smugly in the other’s ear, laughing softly when Jiseok pushes him away with a groan. The younger looks down at the guitarist with a loving smile, eyes scanning over his face. He doesn’t care about pretending anymore, or holding back. The small yet intense moment they shared earlier today has been replaying in his head for the past few hours and he’d be damned if he lets it be a one time thing only. 

Jiseok glances at him putting the cigarette out on the ground, and braces himself, closing his eyes tightly. The taller’s lips twitch in endearment, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Open your eyes, Jiseok.” He instructs, and when the other does, Jooyeon’s heart falls to his stomach. Admiring the guitarist has always been part of his default mode but right now, under the dim street lights, after everything that happened, somehow, his heart felt even fuller of love than before. 

They know each other like the back of their hands, and that also means Jooyeon being painfully aware that having this type of talk in front of a restaurant with people constantly passing by isn’t something Jiseok would want. “You’re starting to make me think you’re embarrassed of me.” Jooyeon teases with a small smile.

The guitarist sneers, resting his head against the wall and looking up at the other. “Do you want some romantic confession or something? ‘cuz you’re not gonna get it.” He holds back a smile, taking another cigarette out of the pack and lighting it.

Jooyeon takes the cigarette out of Jiseok’s lips before he gets to inhale the smoke, moving to a single-leg wall lean one foot raised as he takes a puff, exhaling the air upwards. “Nah, I already got it.” He argues smugly, making the older turn his head to look at him with a questioning stare. “You kissed back.” The bassist whispers into Jiseok’s ear, a shiver running down the guitarist’s spine.

It’s a simple answer. It’s not an over the top sentimental declaration or an emotional tear-filled confession, but it's them. Jiseok glances down, failing to bite back a smile and feeling incredibly embarrassed of the heat he can feel spreading on his cheeks. 

Admittedly, Jooyeon is putting up a pretty nice front, he could even blame the blush on his cheeks on the cold air. He thought he had the upper hand, until “It wasn’t a mistake.” Jiseok confesses, to which the bassist stops in his tracks, cigarette halfway to his lips. “Back then either.” He finishes, and Dammit it’s annoying how easy it is for Jiseok to get the upper hand. 

So, here he is, stupidly staring at Jiseok, lips slightly parted as the ash falls on his boot and his heart is stuck in his throat. He knew. Well, he assumed, but still…hearing it from him, so clearly, so confidently, like it was ridiculous he even had to clarify it, leaves him speechless.

Jiseok raises his head to look at his friend again, a small laugh escaping. “You look so stupid right now.” He tries, but his eyes give it away. They hold the type of spark Jooyeon’s only ever seen from him when he talked about guitar. 

“And I really want to kiss you.” Jooyeon blurts out, not minding Jiseok taking the cigarette out of his mouth and putting it in his, taking a puff before handing it back with a quiet ‘There’. The younger raises his eyebrows as he takes a puff as well but doesn’t retort anything back. Instead, he simply switches the hand with which he holds his cigarette so he can wrap his arm around Jiseok’s shoulders to hold him close.

For a second, the older stills, but he quickly lets his shoulders relax, sighing while looking down at their feet. “‘m sorry. For everything…” 

“You’ve been saying a lot of sorrys for the past few hours, y’know? We made a bet on how many times you’ll say it by the end of the night.” Jooyeon chimes playfully, grunting when the guitarist elbows his side.

“I’m trying to be mature and shit, can’t you people appreciate it?” Jiseok mumbles with a scoff, but he still lets out a laugh. It’s funny to think about it: they’ve all been at each other’s throats for almost a year and yet one random night after everything fell apart, here they are, back to being them.

“Ay~I know.” The bassist hums, caressing Jiseok’s hair gently then speaking into his ear. “I bet like fifty bucks with Jungsu you’ll say it twenty six times though, so if they ask…” He tries, apologizing with a grin when the other shoots him another death stare. And because he likes to see Jiseok’s dimples show whenever he tries to press his lips together just to not smile because he thinks Jooyeon is annoying even though he so obviously wants to, he blows air once into his ear.

After a few attempts of pulling away just to get pulled closer and have his head rest on Jooyeon’s shoulder, Jiseok puts his hands in his jacket in surrender. “It’s okay, really. It’s not like I was any better.” Jooyeon admits, fixing the older’s hair. “I missed you.” 

The silver haired man looks up at his friend for a few seconds, before pulling away, walking towards the entrance. Jooyeon stares at him dumbfounded, heart dropping just a little as insecurity starts creeping up in his chest. He clears his throat, putting his cigarette down and decides to plaster a smile on his face, although he knows Jiseok is going to see right through it. “We still need to talk, though? You didn’t even say you missed me too!”

At that, Jiseok gives him a lopsided smile before turning his attention back to the door. “You said we can talk in my room.” The older rasps suggestively, glancing at him one last time before opening the door. “And I’d rather show you than tell you.”

The words take a few moments to fully register in Jooyeon’s brain, standing in the middle of the entrance with his mouth agape as his friend makes his way to the table. The bassist gets bumped by a couple entering the restaurant. “In your room, right. Show. Yes. I-” He clears his throat getting pulled out of his trance before making his way to the table.

Everyone knew, and if they had any doubts, the way Jooyeon’s face was a shade of hot red and Jiseok avoided everyone’s eyes was more than enough proof. They pretend they don’t see though, that they don’t notice the way they sit slightly closer so their knees brush. When they’re ready, they’ll say it. 

Besides, there’s more pressing matters right now, such as “I say we try it next year.” Gunil offers, taking a sip from his drink, Jiseok’s eyes widening. “Okay look- I know the contest really took a toll on us this year but, if we can do it again and do it better this time, won’t it feel rewarding?” 

“And what if we just go back to screaming matches and constant depression?” Seungmin frowns, not convinced by the drummer’s idea. “This guy pretty much told all of us to go fuck ourselves YESTERDAY.” 

Jiseok raises his hand in defence as the younger squints at him, holding the half filled glass in the other. “Hey I did NOT say that!” The guitarist scoffs, shoulders slumping. “I still feel like…I don’t know…That maybe this isn’t for me.” 

Jungsu purses his lips at the saddened look on the younger’s face, before speaking softly. “You might never get out of that, though. Isn’t it better to at least try to have some fun and make it more bearable?” 

“Yeah, that’s why I said it too.” Gunil nods with wide eyes, searching for Jiseok’s eyes. “Back then we got into the contest to win, that’s why we ended up like this. Look, if the time comes and we don’t feel like it, we don’t go, but we can at least try.” 

A small smile appears on Hyeongjun’s face at the familiar atmosphere he so painfully missed, nodding as well. “And if you still think you suck, we’ll just make Gunil play guitar to you for a bit.”

Everyone erupts into a fit of laughter, even Gunil whose complaints get muffled by the sound of his own laugh. “GUYS COME ON????” 

Things aren’t fixed. Far from it. Jiseok still has his own worries, they still don’t know if they can truly and fully go back to the way they were, but they are so ready to try. No matter how many times they need to break and put themselves together, they know one thing: when one of them falls, there’s five people willing to bend their backs backwards to help in any way possible and if even that doesn’t work, they’ll still be there.

At the end of the day, this is what they’re fighting for. Them. The bond of six guys that are too different to agree on which movie to watch together but that at the same time, all have too much to say through music to let it go to waste.

THE END

@nineooooo @onedumbho3 @nomatterjoo (this is not edited and proof read so apologies for that maybe some day i will get to it but pls be understanding it's like 32 pages kasjakd)

[odeiluv]

this deserves like 1000 notes idc

[xdinari]

Jiseok's House Party

headcanons / drafts / scenarios (idk how to call it) but small scenes because the idea of drunk menace Jiseok and stressed out xdiz trying to take care of him is so entertaining to me

Jiseok deciding to throw a big party for his birthday deciding he'll get shit-face drunk because he deserves it

All of them do this because Jiseok's been having a shit year and REALLY needs this and he's usually always the one to take care of their drunk ass after the club so it's like repaying him but "HE'S LIKE A FUCKING KID JISEOK GET OFF THE TABLETOP???" Seungmin screeches because he's trying TO BACKFLIP

You see Jiseok being super loud and hype and “I swear he’s normal…most days.” Seungmin defends himself but his argument quickly gets obliterated when you see Jiseok head down, being held by his legs by Jooyeon as he chugs down a bottle of beer. “Actually, to be honest, this isn’t that different from him when he’s sober…”

Everyone bets on how many drinks it'll take for him to pass out or end up in the ER but they don't know that dude has a plan and makes himself puke MULTIPLE TIMES just to get the alcohol out of his system so he can make room for more

He challenges Jooyeon to beer pong and loses ON PURPOSE just so he can drink more

Someone gives him aderall and he's all annoyed like "Man this is ass they don't do shit..." (that's how they find out he has ADHD) and Seungmin is like "Yo where can we get more of this shit…"

And then he throws up on the grass and on Jungsu's boots and he gags like "CMON I JUST BOUGHT THEM DUDE...." and next thing you know Jiseok grabs the nearest can of beer and chugs it al like "WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK!! A SOLDIER NEVER GIVES UP!" and Junhan leans closer to Seungmin talking in a small voice like "You think we can find the dealer?"

At some point he tries to skate on the living room table and Jungsu has to physically push him away before he crashes head first into the glass and die

Everyone is SO STRESSED because you'd think after five hours things would calm down but there goes Jiseok's drunk ass getting on the rooftop about to jump into the pool only to be held back by a stressed out Seungmin like "DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH???"

When he's been crushing you for a while so when he hears you'll be at a party he looks at Gunil saying "C'mon try to punch me. I'll duck and punch you instead, she'll be seduced, TRUST ME." and he's so ????

He kisses some random girl not knowing she has a boyfriend and when the guy almost punches him he grabs the dude and kisses him too and Jungsu has to drag Jiseok out of the room just to make sure he doesn't get a broken nose

Junhan is meant to watch him for a while for the others to try to enjoy the party and he takes his attention off him for THIRTY SECONDS to clean up some beer he spilled by accident on the floor and Jungsu comes up to him like "Wait where's Jiseok?" and Junhan is like "He's right her---" he says as he points behind him and raises his head looking back seeing he's not there screaming "SHIT SHIT SHIT" and gets up running to where Jiseok is only to see him playing baseball with a fucking alcohol bottle

Seungmin searching for his phone while Jiseok is playing catch with it with Jooyeon because he's just as gone and Junhan points to the scene, Jungsu having to hold Seungmin back from fucking beating Jiseok up like "THAT'S A FUCKING IPHONE 16 YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FCCK IS WRONG WITH YOU???" while Gunil gets between those two trying to somehow catch it

Jiseok is like "USE IT AS AN EXCUSE TO BUY A NEWER ONE!! THE SCREEN IS CRACKED ANYWAYS!!" and Seungmin screeches legs flying in the air and everything trying to get to him as Jungsu hugs him from behind "WHAT MONE-WAIT WHAT??? THE SCREEN WASN'T CRACKED YOU FUCKING-"

At some point they all relax and Jooyeon decides to say "It's not going that bad...." and everyone else turns their heads to him: Jungsu with puke on his boots, Junhan with messy hair from running, Seungmin with sweat from almost fighting Jiseok, Gunil with his shirt ripped because Jiseok didn't want to drink some water

Their eyes twitching since Jooyeon has been everywhere and doing everything BUT taking care of him like he actually was the one getting drunk too and Junhan stares at him for a solid second before getting up, running after him and threatening him while holding a can of soda in his hand

Everyone taking a small break at some point and after a moment of silence Gunil goes "Guys...when's the last time you heard or saw Jiseok..." and they all curse and get up running and Jungsu yells all stressed out panicking "SEUNGMIN YOU TAKE THE KITCHEN. GUNIL GO FOR THE POOL. ME AND HYEONGJUN WILL TAKE THE LIVINGROOM AND JOOYEON, FOR FUCKS SAKE, MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL AND CHECK THE BATHROOM!"

Jungsu tries to make out with some girl and suddenly Junhan runs to him exasperated "BRO HE'S TRYING TO INJECT THE SYRINGE PUNCH INTO HIS EYES TO MAKE THE ALCOHOL GET IN FASTER" and he groans apologizing before running off like "YOU COULDN'T GET ANYONE ELSE???" and Junhan can barely speak as he runs with him "ITS THE FOUR OF US AGAINST HIM AND HE'S SOMEHOW WINNING"

They find him snorting something white off the table and they're all absolutely mortified thinking it's coke only for Seungmin to taste it and see it's flour while everyone looks at him judgingly because dude could've easily tasted coke unknowingly and he just shrugs tiredly like "Honestly it wouldn't have been worse than babysitting that headache"

[odeiluv]

reblogging because this is so funny to me at 11:19pm i’m so tired

[odeiluv]

ᝰ The Tab

- Oh Seungmin (O.de)

pairing: oh seungmin x protagonist

- (written in the first person, the protagonist’s gender isn’t mentioned nor is a name used)

genre/tags: friends to lovers, a slice of life, fluff, comfort, slight angst, mini slow-burn, one shot, confessions, can tab trend (read inspo)

warnings: swearing, feelings of anxiety, brief mention of suffocation?

wc: 4.9k

summary: during an evening of games and snacks within a blanket fort, a single comment changes everything between two friends.

a/n: this is the first time i’ve ever tried writing a fic as i have the ideas but not the skill to execute them well. this is proof-read, however, some things may have been missed so i apologise if there’s any repetition, tense changes or warnings that have been missed.

inspo: i had an original idea for this fic but most of it came together as i wrote and ended up with loose connections to the ‘trend’ that can tabs have meanings based on how they break off and can be given to someone in confession. semi-circle = hug. rainbow = hook up. rainbow with a hole beneath = kiss. it’s not directly mentioned but hinted at.

ᝰ read under the cut - enjoy!

The furniture is pressed towards the centre of the living room. A large, deep blue throw drapes over the TV, which sits on the unit. It extends over the sofa opposite, the armchair to the left and the clothes airer to the right, pulled tight to create the base of the fort. A few small blankets are flung over here and there to stop any light from getting in, the fort lit by only the glow of the TV, and the one singular artificial tea light candle Seungmin insisted would be the ‘perfect decoration’.

Inside, Seungmin’s duvet is spread out over the floor, his pillows and a few sofa cushions dotted around. We sit crossed-legged in the centre of it all, Nintendo Switch controllers in our hands, playing our fourth race of Mario Kart in a row. I am also currently winning my fourth race in a row, which has Seungmin throwing a string of laughable insults at me.

Gunil peeks in at the allocated entrance beside the clothes airer sometime during the second race, asking if we want any snacks, and returns with a couple of cans of Dr Pepper, Pepero, and some Pringles. Then, also asking if we want some extra blankets, as ‘it will be cold sleeping out here’, which we accept appreciatively.

The rest of Seungmin’s bandmates have turned in for the evening already, each of them loving their beds and sleep as much as the next. So when Gunil bids us goodnight and heads off to his room, which he shares with Jungsu, it’s just the two of us. Something I’ve come to love more and more as of late.

Even right now, as he screams at me in frustration for sending a Red Shell back at him, I couldn’t be more content.

As the tournament finishes and I inevitably win, we decide to take a quick break. Cracking open our cans and digging into the snacks Gunil generously brought us. Seungmin animatedly tells me a story about his trip out with Hyeongjun this morning, and I really am trying to listen, but my brain won’t allow space as it focuses on soaking in his appearance across from me.

Red and black plaid pyjama pants and a black graphic hoodie, one I recognise as the one he let me borrow when we last hung out alone on a visit to Han River. His face is bare, and his hair, dyed blonde from Xdinary Heroes’ latest comeback, peeks out from underneath his hood. The TV's glow illuminates his face, highlighting his cheekbones whenever his mouth curves into a smile. His dark eyes appear lighter, crinkling in amusement as he lets out a hearty laugh.

God, I love his laugh.

I lift my can to my lips to conceal a smile, taking a long sip.

I’m not entirely sure when I started to see Seungmin this way. We had met through some mutual friends a few years back, and even the very first time in his presence, I knew I wanted him to be a part of my everyday. I was simply fond of him; It was just the way he was able to make an entire room erupt in laughter, and the way he cared for people - like how he instantly jumped up to get me some tissues when I spilt my drink over myself on that very first day, despite having only shared a handful of words beforehand.

Going forward, there had been countless texts, then calls; More group hangouts and eventually ones on our own. And along the way, things must have been gradually building, leading up to just a few weeks ago, when I realised just how much I missed him. With his band having had the final preparations needed for their album, contact was limited. I found myself eagerly checking every notification, hoping it was him. Desperate to hear his voice and to see his face.

And then one night, after a short FaceTime, I laid back in bed, cheeks hurting from smiling. My chest rising and falling heavily due to the rapid pace of my heart, I realised, without an ounce of room for denial;

I really, really like Oh Seungmin.

His story ends with a reminiscing laugh as he pulls his hoodie over his head, leaving his hair slightly dishevelled and revealing a grey tank top underneath, which rises partially in the process.

I avert my eyes quickly, grabbing a Pepero stick, unable to trust myself not to stare.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he pulls it back down, “But anyway, what were you up to this morning?”

I take a bite of my snack, humming as I try to remember anything past the sight of his toned stomach.

But then a door creaks open and foot steps thud into the living room as though being dragged sleepily. They pause momentarily as the light switch is flicked on, light creeping under the ‘walls’ of the fort. There are a few seconds of silence before they continue towards us. All of a sudden, the blanket at the entrance is being pulled aside, and the light floods in, revealing Jooyeon crouched with tired eyes, yet a playful grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” he taunts in usual fashion.

I can already see where this is going to go- the same way it always does. Seungmin clearly does too, as he shoots me a comedic look with an exaggerated sigh as though to say, ‘here we go again.’

“When did you build this?” he continues, not caring for the exchange; in fact, it only spurs him on.

“When you went to bed,” Seungmin replies, before adding teasingly, “so you couldn’t ruin it.”

Jooyeon lets out an elongated, ‘whattt?’ of defence before mumbling a ‘rude’. Then, he invites himself in, clearly being extra careful as though not to prove Seungmin right. He doesn’t get far though, due to the lack of room, settling on his knees just in front of Seungmin, who leans back to rest on his hands, triceps flexing appealingly in the process.

“It’s quite cosy in here, isn’t it?” he looks around, nodding as though assessing the construction work, “Pretty romantic.”

His light teasing usually doesn’t affect me, and I’d normally counter him with a dig of some sort; But now, I find myself too busy holding back a smirk at each comment that classifies me and Seungmin as anything more than friends.

Instead, Seungmin grabs a pillow from somewhere beside him, chucking it straight at Jooyeon. It hits him right in the head before falling to the floor. I laugh at the excessive offence he feigns on his face, and he shoots me an equally excessive glare. He picks up the pillow himself, raising his hand as though to throw it at me, but pauses as he notices what’s in my hand.

“Is that my Pepero?”

I shrug, obviously unaware, yet still pop the last of it in my mouth. Grabbing the packet off the floor, I show it to him.

He takes in a sharp breath, over the top once again, snatching them from my grasp, “That is my Pepero. I literally just came out to get those.”

“Blame Gunil,” Seungmin responds coolly.

Jooyeon says something about having words with him tomorrow, and that he can buy him another pack.

“Right, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone since you don’t want me here,” he sighs as though feeling sorry for himself, clutching his Pepero sticks to his chest. But he still doesn’t move, instead lowering a hand to his pocket to pull out his phone, “Wait.”

He raises it, and I raise an eyebrow in turn.

“Smile!”

He doesn’t wait for a reaction, snapping a candid photo of the two of us in the fort. I blink a few times, temporarily blinded from the flash. He sighs whimsically as he zooms to observe his photography.

“How cute,” then, excitedly, “Jiseok is going to love this.”

I snort as Seungmin extends a leg to kick Jooyeon with limited pressure, “Get out, you weirdo.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay.”

Jooyeon shoves his phone in his pocket again and backs out of the fort clumsily with the last of his Pepero sticks, knocking over the can of Pringles on the way. I feel a sense of relief momentarily as he stands, the blanket covering the entrance falling back into place. Until I hear his voice call out again from across the room,

“Don’t kiss in there!”

For fuck’s sake.

A sharp exhale shoots from my nose in embarrassed amusement as I let my head fall, trying to hide the pink blush tinting my cheeks as the thought flashes through my mind.

“We’ll try!”

And now it’s not so funny.

Elbows resting on my knees, I raise my hands to my cheeks that I can feel are now burning hotter than before, hoping that Seungmin can’t see how red my face has become.

Did he seriously just say that?

Jooyeon lets out a boisterous laugh followed by an exaggerated gag at his friend’s witty response, before the door clicks shut on his return to his bedroom.

I lift my head, dropping my hands back into my lap, trying to compose myself so that I don’t look as affected as I feel - but I can’t look him in the eye.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” I mutter to ease the one-sided tension, with a laugh behind it that’s almost painful as I force it out. My hands reach for the controller on the ground in front of me, and I begin to flick through the character selector aimlessly to occupy my hands.

A quiet chuckle comes in response as Seungmin’s own head drops for a moment, before he leans forward to place the Pringles tube back upright. He then shuffles all the way back until he is resting against the sofa and stretches out his legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. The rest of him is out of my peripheral vision, and I’m unable to see his face.

“He’s funny,” the boy breathes airily.

I simply hum in response, attempting to keep my demeanour calm, yet my heart feels as though it’s going to burst through my ribcage at any moment.

We start another tournament. I try to concentrate on keeping my streak - but winning doesn’t feel so important right now. Seungmin’s words spin through my head at a dizzying speed.

We’ll try. We’ll try. We’ll try.

And I start to wonder why he said it. What it meant. How he come out with it so quickly. What he’s thinking right now. Part of me is hopeful. Hopeful that he really is trying not to. Saying it so quickly because it’s been on his mind.

But then what if it meant nothing, and it was just to get a reaction out of Jooyeon? A harmless jab.

Still, despite there being no ill intent, I feel myself growing irritated at the thought. Growing infuriated by him out of nowhere for being so careless. For being blissfully unaware of how I feel, and for how a comment he made without a second thought is eating me alive.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath as my character is hit by a Blue Shell. Seungmin lets out a provoking ‘Ha Ha’ as his own character speeds past mine, which is spinning out. But I don’t really care. And I don’t shoot back at him with a usual competitive remark. Continuing to play subconsciously as I begin to construct a list of excuses to leave once this game is finished. So I can go home and throw myself onto my bed and cry.

Suddenly, there’s a hand waving in front of my face, and I blink rapidly. The screen in front of me is paused, and Seungmin is saying my name. My head snaps towards him. He has scooted back beside me again, controller discarded on the floor somewhere behind him. His eyebrows are furrowed heavily in genuine concern, and the corners of his lips are slightly downturned. But I try not to look at them as he speaks, his presence almost unbearable all of a sudden.

“You’re not even paying attention. You’re in ninth place. Are you okay?”

The question averts my eyes. I shake my head as I reply with a white lie, “I’m just tired.”

“You always say that,” he drags, and he’s probably rolling his eyes at me.

“No, I really am. I’ll probably just head home.”

I scramble to my knees, putting some distance between us in the process, as I scan the fort for any of my belongings that I might have brought in with me.

“But you’re supposed to be staying over…” Seungmin says in a voice quieter than usual, a hint of disappointment underlying it that makes me feel incredibly guilty. A lump forms in my throat, overwhelmed by all the emotions swirling around my chest. Hating myself for having the audacity to be mad at him when he has absolutely no clue what he’s done. I barely mumble a quick apology as I pick up the only things I can find, my phone and my almost empty can of Dr Pepper, and turn ready to awkwardly clamber out of the fort.

But Seungmin shuffles over, blocking my exit, the look of concern still plastered on his face as he turns his whole body to face me, legs still crossed. His eyes skim over my face as I kneel just in front of him, trying to read my expression, which I pray is stoic in my attempts, as I force myself to look him in the eye.

The silence is painful, and it feels like an hour, though probably only a couple of seconds before he speaks.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Great.

That was the last thing I needed.

My ears grow hot as I shake my head. I hate lying to Seungmin. It’s something I hardly ever have to do - but as I try to protect myself, it comes out in an instant.

“No, of course not.”

But that doesn’t mean he has to believe it.

He sighs my name like a disappointed dad, eyes falling shut as he swallows hard. When he opens them again, they narrow slightly, boring into me.

“What?” My voice heightens defensively.

“Just tell me the truth”

“I am telling you the truth”

“Promise me?”

I hesitate, opening my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. So I shut it again. Panic settles in.

We never, ever break promises. And I can’t force myself to do that even now. I lower my knelt posture to sit back on my feet as my face darkens in shame. My expression falters, and I drop my gaze to my phone and can, noticing how tight my grip has become, the can crushing ever so slightly.

My lack of response tells him enough.

His voice is barely above a whisper, “What did I do?”

I drop my phone into my lap slowly as I attempt to use both hands to pop out the dent, trying to think of how I could possibly answer that question now. At the very top of my sight I can see him wringing his hands in his own lap nervously before he pleads, “Please look at me.”

A small crack in his voice causes me to immediately freeze, and I lift my head slightly to risk a glance, yet instantly regret it as I notice his eyes are vaguely glassed over. Guilt washes over me again as I realise I’ve upset him, something I’ve never done before. And I can’t find it in me to be angry anymore.

I’m a fucking idiot.

I sigh as I clumsily drag my aching legs from under me with only one hand for support, can still clutched in the other, and phone slipping from my lap to the floor. Mimicking the position of the boy across from me, I allow myself to raise my head fully to look at him. My eyes sting at the sight of Seungmin, who’s now also chewing the inside of his cheek anxiously.

Another painful silence. One that I feel like I have to fill myself this time, yet I struggle to find the right words.

“You really didn’t do anything wrong… It’s just that-” I pause, frowning out of frustration, eyes flickering to the blanket wall behind him, “It’s just me overthinking.”

Something he knows I do a lot, and he usually doesn’t pry, but I can’t blame him this time.

“Overthinking what?” he questions, voice still quiet. Hands still fidgeting, eyes still glassy.

As I imagine myself admitting it out loud, I groan out of embarrassment, my free hand rising to my face, thumb and middle finger pressing to the outer corners of my eyes.

“This is so fucking stupid,” I breathe out, a short, awkward laugh following, lowering my head just enough for my elbow to rest on my knee.

I peek up at Seungmin from behind my hand, just in time to see him relax slightly - shoulders dropping their tension and tilting his head to the side to catch my eyes, now more confused than anything else. He blinks a couple of times as his eyes clear, asking hesitantly, “What is it?”

Inhaling deeply, I remove my hand from my face to sit up straight. Then I down the last of my drink to buy myself more time on how to explain myself. I can feel my hands shaking subtly, conscious of how Seungmin watches my every move. Lowering the can, I fiddle with the tab as I begin to speak.

“So basically- wait, can you not look at me, I’m going to laugh,” I interrupt myself as I notice Seungmin staring at me with such a serious expression as he listens attentively - one I’ve never had directed at myself.

Luckily, he snorts at this with a chorus of muffled apologies as he drops his head into his hands.

What an absolute mess.

After another deep breath, I continue, “You know when Jooyeon came in and said… what he said...”

“What part? He said a lot of things,” Seungmin mumbles, poking fun at Jooyeon’s talkative manner, hands still covering his face. I snigger.

Continuing to dance around the subject, I say, “Just when he left.”

Seungmin nods slowly in an exaggerated manner against his hands so that I can catch it. And I can’t tell entirely due to the dim lights, and with his short hair falling over them, but I can almost swear I see the tips of his ears redden.

“About us kissing?”

I wish I could see his face as he says this, yet I am more grateful that he cannot see mine as hearing “us” and “kissing” come out of his mouth in the same sentence, once again, has my cheeks burning.

“Errrr… yeah,” I reply awkwardly, causing me to scrunch up my face, cringing at the sound of my own voice. I look up so the ‘ceiling’ of the fort, mouthing ‘fuck’. Condemning myself.

“What about it?” Seungmin counters after a moment, and my eyes fall back onto him. A speck of agitation creeping back in at the seemingly nonchalant response.

I hadn’t really thought this far ahead and don’t really know what to say next - a moment or two passes and I notice Seungmin raise his head ever so slightly to peek at me through his fingers, as though to check I haven’t disappeared. I frown at him playfully, and he mutters another apology before dipping his head again.

Sighing, I force myself to pursue, but of course, it comes out as more of a ramble.

“He obviously says stuff like that all the time and… it’s funny, obviously, because it’s Jooyeon. And I know he’s just teasing, of course, but-”

This is followed by a long, filler ‘errrr’ of some sort as I have second thoughts about continuing. But I know I’m going to end up having to say it anyway.

It comes out slow, and more like a question, “It’s just. What… you said… after?”

Seungmin doesn’t say anything at first. I’m not sure if he’s trying to recall the moment or what. But then he lifts his head again, hands slowly dragging down his face, fingertips coming to rest against his jaw. No clear expression yet his face is slightly red; I can’t tell if it’s out of embarrassment or simply from the heat of his palms.

My eyes fall back to my hands as I twist the tab of the can forward and backwards again, finally weakened enough for it to snap off. I fiddle with it between my fingers, self-conscious.

“Why are you so bothered?”

I daren’t look at him and am unsure from the tone of his voice whether the question is lighthearted, and to meet him with a teasing ‘shut up’ - or if he’s expecting a straight, honest answer.

But I can’t give him an honest answer, because I’m scared of how he’ll react. So I settle for a half-truth.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect it, that’s all,” I excuse myself, “Caught me off guard a bit, I guess.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” His voice is soft.

Anything but.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I quickly reassure, shaking my head, but still not looking up “, Not at all.”

“Then what is it?”

I place the empty can down just in front of me, both hands now on the tab, and my voice is unnaturally quiet as I admit, “I just want to know why you said it.”

The tension in the air becomes palpable. And every moment of quiet that follows only causes it to intensify. I’m unsure of how to read it, his lack of words with endless possibilities of cause. But my heart feels as though it’s climbing up my throat nonetheless, to the point where it’s making me feel sick. And I’d just wish he’d speak - say anything at this point - as the feeling slowly becomes unbearable.

“I didn’t say it to be weird or anything,” Seungmin finally starts. Then, “I was just teasing you.”

I feel myself deflate.

‘I was just teasing you.’

“Okay,” I say simply, nodding slowly. I look up at him for a second to give him a tight smile as though to say, ‘That’s it then. It’s fine. Problem solved.’ But I honestly wish the ground would swallow me up, or the blankets from the fort would fall right now and suffocate me - not just even out of embarrassment, but disappointment.

Everything hurts. Because it didn’t mean anything to him. Whilst the stupid, rash comment meant everything to me. It was never just the thought of him wanting to kiss me, but everything else that could have meant. That he could possibly feel even a fraction of what I feel for him.

I need to get out.

I grab my phone, “I’m still going to go, though, because I-”

“I’m not finished.”

Oh.

Phone back on the floor, I catch the way Seungmin rubs his hands together before wiping his palms on his thighs. His head is down, but I can tell his eyebrows are pinched together tightly.

His hands still, but he won’t look at me. He clears his throat.

“I just wanted to see your reaction,” he continues, “but then you wouldn’t even look at me and I couldn’t tell if I made things awkward between us or-”

My nerves spike again, and I flip the tab between my fingers repeatedly.

He swallows hard, “I don’t know.”

I go to question him, but then he begins to ramble, hands clasped together, gesturing with even point he makes, “but then you wouldn’t even talk to me either, and then you wanted to leave, and I thought I definitely fucked up. But you just said it didn’t make you uncomfortable and were just caught off guard and…”

He keeps going, but I’m barely listening, still stuck on the first part.

I shift my focus to the tab in my hand, as my mind attempts to skip over every possible reason why he’d want to see my reaction - not allowing myself to jump to conclusions. Deciding to let him finish to get a definitive answer, I let my thumb graze over the idents at the base of the tab, a rainbow with a small hole beneath it.

“-but yeah,” he concludes, letting out a shaky breath.

Barely a second passes before I ask, tilting my head at him curiously, “Why did you want to see my reaction?” I pause, narrowing my eyes, before pushing further, “How did you want me to react?”

He looks up at me momentarily through his lashes before letting out a low, awkward laugh. “Umm…” he hums, and his hands begin wringing again. I glance down at the tab before extending it out to him with one hand in an attempt to calm him. He blinks at it a couple of times before taking it appreciatively, instinctively grazing his own thumb against it.

“I think,” he starts, a coy smile audible through his voice “, because I wanted to see if you’d get all shy and flustered.”

His words grow quieter towards the end out of embarrassment - the unusual behaviour incredibly endearing. I chew on my bottom lip to suppress a smile as part of me is pleased at the idea he’d want to have that effect on me, but then again, he could want that effect on anyone.

“Why?” I question shortly, needing confirmation before I can allow the exhilaration to overcome me. He raises his head faintly.

The look he gives me is pointed, yet amusingly so. Eyebrows furrowed in mock annoyance, one slightly raised - but his face is beautifully flushed and the corner of his lip twitches slightly as he tries not to smile. It’s a look that says, ‘What do you think, idiot?’

Oh my god.

I laugh genuinely, first at the face; But then, as the silent confession sinks in, I can’t wipe the grin from my face, nor silence the giddy giggles that bubble up from my chest. Seungmin watches me with bright eyes, chuckling softly at the sight as I fall back against the duvet, hands concealing my face bashfully as I try to compose myself.

“Oi, get up,” Seungmin orders me between his own laughs, tapping on my knees with the palm of his hands. I move my hands from my face so I can lean up on my elbows to look at him. He shifts his stare to the floor immediately, ears red as he drags the tab across the duvet with his fingers.

Feeling smug at the sudden shift in power, my grin grows somewhat cocky. I tease, “I want to hear you say it.”

He lets out a pleading groan, lifting his arms to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes, lightly dragging out a ‘Whyyy?’

“Come on,” I drag back, plainly enjoying the head-to-head, “We’re both adults here.”

He promptly removes his hands to give me another pointed look, this time as though to say, ‘you can’t talk.’ There’s a stare-down for a short time.

He then wordlessly extends the tab out to me, scooting himself forward so I can reach, knees against my own. I lean up and retrieve the item between my fingers, but just before I can drop back again, he grabs my wrist and pulls me back up.

The action catches me by surprise, and I yelp. I’m ready to scold him, but my complaints halt as the boy’s hand slips from my wrist to hold my hand. His thumb brushes over my fingers, and I shiver, the sudden shift in dynamic giving me whiplash. Wordlessly, his free hand raises to cup my chin, thumb on one cheek, fingers on the other, squishing them ever so slightly.

“I like you,” a playful tone, yet the genuine smile that follows, paired with the tender look in his eyes, hold so much meaning, “a lot.”

And it’s like the rest of the world disappears.

My eyes dart around his face, wishing to capture every detail of him in this moment so I can remember it this clearly forever. The warmth in his gaze is familiar, as though I’ve witnessed a thousand times before, but now with his confession, everything seems to make sense. My next words come easily, having been sat on the tip of my tongue, begging to spill.

“I like you too, Seungmin,” my voice comes out in a whisper, as my eyes fall to his mouth, “so much.”

He catches this, the corners of his lips twitching as his hand moves to cup my left cheek. The other loosens from my hand gently as brings it up to the right. Holding my face as though it’s the most precious thing in the world. The volume of his voice drops to match my own,

“Can I kiss you?”

Please.

I nod without hesitation, my hands reaching forward to grasp the hem of his tank top instinctively, anticipation engulfing every inch of my being. And he leans in, eyes fluttering closed as he tilts his face to capture my lips in a singular, delicate kiss.

My fingers curl under the fabric, just enough to feel the bare skin of his waist against my fingertips. Just enough to confirm to myself that he’s really there. That I’m kissing Seungmin. That this is real - It only lasts a few seconds, but I swear I experience true euphoria for the first time in my life.

And when he pulls back, his eyes glisten with a youthful excitement; his smile mischievous as though a child doing something in secret that he knows he shouldn’t. The thrill of not getting caught, and with his partner in crime.

“We didn’t even try.”