all messed up

we're getting away with all messed up, getting away with it

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

the words echo heavily through sechan’s mind, and it takes him a few seconds to process what the boy on the other side is saying. relief washes over him as the sentences sink in and sechan wants to cry because it already feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. he shouldn’t get his hopes up so quickly considering how things went with the other few people who have called - one happened to be a prank call - but he’s too sensitive right now. the voice, albeit a bit high and clearly young, feels like is a saviour as he brings a hand up to rub at his eyes to keep them from watering.

“oh,” sechan manages to squeeze out, and he takes a deep breath before continuing to avoid coming off as unprofessional with a shaking voice. “that’s great, hi.”

"hello," sam replies automatically, feeling the conversation take a more familiar turn. he's generally good with new people, except a second ago he felt like he was walking in on a personal moment in someone's day that he wasn't welcome in and it put him in an uncomfortable spot. forcing it to slip from his mind, he takes a more casual posture and relaxes into his chair. blue is still smiling but not laughing anymore, looking at him expectantly. 

"i'm sam," he says, smiling a bit. "this is my first time uh, calling in for a job like this so i don't really know what i should prepare?" he says, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. blue doesn't do or say anything to indicate that he said the wrong thing so he keeps his composure, leaning in to the phone a little bit. "not that i don't have any experience with children," he comments, and the first thing that comes to his mind is bryan's daughter. "i look after my niece all the time. she's two already, so she's kind of going through a rebellious phase." he jokes, smiling fondly at the thought of isabelle. "that, and i'm studying pediatrics in university." he adds as an afterthought, forgetting that the fact had the most potential to actually land him the job. he won't know how to treat hyunwoo until he meets him, but he already has a generalized idea of how to deal with him in the appropriate matter.

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

“that concludes the meeting,” the newly employed teacher says, the sigh escaping her lips divulging how exhausting she found the whole event. a sudden look of uncertainty spreads on her face as parents start getting up from their seats, reaching for their briefcases and purses. sechan stays seated as he reaches for his backpack that he stashed under his chair and wonders if that really was the end. the so called fresh meat of the kindergarten department swallows and opens her mouth to stutter, “u-unless anyone has any questions? anything?”

sechan had been expecting a more dramatic question or statement after the look of mild horror on her face, but he guesses that once upon a time he could relate to her anxiety when it comes to these trivial matters. currently, he’s too tired to, so instead of taking a seat closer to her and reassuring her that she had a good first meeting on the job, he gets up from his chair. the rest of the parents smile at her and shake their heads while gathering their things to leave, mumbling out a few ‘not at the moment’ and ‘no, thank you’.

“pamela,” the teacher exclaims - sechan still can’t remember her name - and starts waving her hand in the direction of mrs. gunderson. “i-i mean mrs. gunderson. sorry, mrs. gunderson.”

mrs. gunderson raises an eyebrow at her awkwardness, and a tiny part of sechan feels for the poor woman, walking into unfamiliar territory and dealing with the properly terrifying and old fashioned pamela gunderson practically the moment she stepped into the building. sechan’s never talked to mrs. gunderson himself, but he knows she’s a mother of five and is the wife of a ceo of some large company sechan can’t remember the name of. that would’ve been harmless in itself, but one of the younger mothers - amelia - has a nose for gossip and didn’t hesitate to tell sechan when she overheard mrs. gunderson conversing with another parent how futile it is for a child to have both a mother and a father. according to amelia she went on to strengthen her statement by pointing out hyunwoo’s behaviour, calling him odd and a special case. a child not fit for the public school system.

sechan’s avoided both her and amelia ever since. mrs. gunderson out of hatred and bitterness, and amelia out of embarrassment.

“mrs. gunderson,” the teacher repeats, forcing a small smile onto her lips. “the printed schedule you asked for is on the principal’s secretary’s desk in the office. i could show you there if you’d like?”

mrs. gunderson scrunches her nose up like the idea positively disgusts her. “i can find my own way,” she says firmly, tugging her white handbag further up her arm and nodding at the teacher’s mumbled ‘have a nice day’ before exiting the room.

the new teacher exhales as she does, and so does sechan. he shrugs his backpack on after making sure it’s properly closed, feeling grateful for the warm weather since it frees him from the confines of a jacket. the classroom is close to empty by now, sechan realises as he glances across the room. a few parents are still sitting around with their phones in their hands, tapping at their screens with frowns on their faces. he’s about to walk out the door when a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks. he turns around abruptly, eyes widening as he looks down to see who it is.

“mr. kang,” the teacher says, smiling more brightly now than she had with mrs. gunderson. “it’s nice to meet you. i haven’t had the chance to properly introduce myself, so i-i’m doing that now.”

sechan returns the smile and reaches his hand forward to shake hers. after having learned that adults tend to prefer that as a greeting he tries to initiate the contact as much as he can. he guesses he’s too young or disrespectful to get why it’s necessary, but people appear to like it so he continues with it. “it’s nice to meet you too, and i’m sorry about that. i didn’t mean to be late or anything, i just couldn’t get off work in time and–”

“it’s alright, mr. kang,” the teacher reassures, quitting his excuse short, holding her hand out to grasp ahold of his. she holds it loosely, almost as if she’s afraid she’ll squeeze it too hard, and her hand is soft and warm. “i’m emma, emma davis. i’m sorry i can’t recall your first name?”

“sechan,” he says, trying to keep the smile on his face as he thinks about how he needs to leave as soon as possible if he wants to make it to work in time. “it’s sechan, but actually– i actually need to leave. i’m sorry to cut this short.”

ms. davis looks troubled to be told this, letting go of his hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “oh, that’s– that’s too bad. i needed to speak with you about your son, actually. is it okay if i take just a few minutes of your time?”

sechan’s heart skips a beat when ms. davis mentions hyunwoo. there has been a few times in the past where hyunwoo’s been involved in fights during recess, but only because the other kids pick on him from time to time. he can’t defend himself with his fists, and certainly not with his mouth, and the other kids seem to have realised that. ‘kids can be cruel,’ another mother told sechan as he for once lost his temper and demanded an explanation when they all gathered to discuss it in the principal’s office.

he had been ready to punch her into the ground, the rage slipping out of every corner of him as he’d struggled to control himself. he still had half moon shaped scars on his palms from that time, from when he pressed his nails down so hard that he started bleeding. experiencing that anger had been terrifying, and if ms. davis is about to bring up a similar situation, sechan isn’t ready to hear it.

“y-yeah,” he stutters, trying to keep a neutral expression on his face. he suppresses all of his nervous tendencies and brings a hand up to hold onto his backpack, shoving the other into the front pocket of his jeans to keep them occupied. “is there something wrong?”

ms. davis shakes her head, but something in her eyes tell him she truly thinks otherwise. “well, i’m not quite sure how to put this, but i’m concerned for your son. he isn’t participating in activities with the other kids. he doesn’t want to draw unless he’s alone. he won’t eat by the table with the rest of them either, and– and i was just wondering if you’re having any problems at home? he seems like a sweet boy, but the days i’ve spent with him has been– they’ve been challenging.”

sechan lets out a sigh of relief, because he’s had this conversation with every single one of hyunwoo’s teachers and they always go the same way. “right,” he says, pulling a hand through his hair. “right, sorry, i’ll bring his files for you, the doctor’s and the therapist’s, and you can read them if you want. the best thing is to just leave him be. if you’re thinking he should be in some school for special needs kids, then yeah, maybe that’s true. according to law though, i don’t have to transfer him so he’ll keep being challenging. in this school. i’m sure that’s to be expected when working in schools, so that shouldn’t be an issue, now should it? if you have any questions, i’m sure they’ll be answered in the files. i actually really need to go now, but i’ll bring them by on monday when i drop hyunwoo off.”

to say that ms. davis looks baffled by sechan’s vaguely rehearsed response would be an understatement. she’s at a loss for words, but sechan doesn’t have the time or energy to give her a nice and soft explanation, letting her know the ins and outs of taking care of hyunwoo at school. being sleep deprived can do that to you, he thinks as he forces a smile on his face to avoid her thinking he’s a complete asshole. “it was nice to meet you, ms. davis.”

“you too, mr. kang,” ms. davis says, appearing flustered and awkward as she brushes her hair back once more. she clasps her hands together, pressing them against her chest and takes a few steps back as if exiting out of the conversation. sechan turns away from her the second she does, already hurrying out through the door and into the long, abandoned hallway.

tears threaten to spill out of his eyes as he thinks of the minutes he wasted staying behind and how mad his supervisor will be that he’s late again. it’s the third time this week, and sechan’s starting to feel like he’s paving his way to getting fired from this much needed job. it pays the best out of all of them, but it has the worst and most inconvenient hours which is why he can’t seem to get there when he should the majority of the time. with quick steps, he makes his way to the main doors but before he can grab onto the handle his backpack starts to buzz. the melody of his ringtone follows a second after and sechan has to take a deep breath to keep himself from breaking down at the sound of it.

he doesn’t have the time to answer, but considering how he barely has any friends and he just left the school so the teachers shouldn’t be calling to complain, he realises he has to. he shrugs his backpack off his shoulders, puts it down in front of him and kneels down on the floor. the zipper is tough, hard to pull down but after a few desperate tugs he manages to get it open. spare t-shirts, old energy bar wrappers and a battered book or two make it a bit difficult for him to locate his phone, but once he has it the call is answered and his phone is pressed against his ear in seconds.

“hello?” he says, slightly breathless and majorly stressed out, sitting on the floor of his son’s school, sweating through his shirt because he’s late to work and on the verge of another breakdown. he really hopes this is good news.

sam chokes on his words and keeps still, pausing to look at blue for any indication of what the hell to do. he thought he'd hear a friendly voice on the other side, instead what came out of the receiver was a ragged 'hello' and it makes him feel like an intruder in someone's life. it's blue's fault, sam thinks as he narrows his eyes spitefully at him while the mentioned boy is looking back at him curiously and in vague annoyance that sam has the nerve to even look at him. 

sam makes unnecessary movements of covering up the transmitter with his palm to swear at blue, but only swallows it back up and presses the phone back to his ear. he fights a groan from coming out of his lips. clearing his throat, he answers. "yeah-- i'm calling about the babysitting ad?" he says, voice coming out in a higher pitch than intended. he presses his free hand against the table to get himself to focus, furrowing his eyebrows in embarrassment. "i uh, saw it online." he adds, making his voice deeper and trying to ignore blue's attempt at stifling a snort in front of him.

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

sechan curls up in his bed, shoves his face into a pillow and he weeps. the tiredness washes over him and he feels even if it was life or death, he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger. he came back from a ten hour shift around five minutes ago, and it only took him two of those to realise he had left his four year old son alone at home without a sitter for around five hours this morning. it’s disgraceful to admit it to himself that he was too tired to notice his own child, his flesh and bones, sitting by the dinner table waiting for him to make breakfast like he keeps promising that he’ll do every morning.

it’s six days into the week and sechan hasn’t touched a loaf of bread let alone the eggs he put aside to scramble on monday, boil on tuesday and fry on wednesday. he hadn’t even reached thursday in the weekly breakfast planning because he had to run to work if he wanted to make it in time, and he desperately needed to if he wanted to keep himself from getting fired.

it’s not working. sechan can clearly see that but he can’t afford a nanny and there’s no one willing to watch a small kid for more than a few hours with the kind of pay he’s able to give. there’s been times the old lady living next door has kept an eye on hyunwoo while he’s been at work or another important engagement but she’s nearing eighty and isn’t supposed to push herself according to her very concerned niece. sechan doesn’t want to be the cause of a heart attack so he’s discreetly stopped mentioning the hours he works in fear of her offering herself up as a babysitter. if she payed a little more attention, she’d quickly notice the only hours sechan doesn’t work are all in the middle of the night.

mentioning it even in his mind is difficult but he has to face the fact that part of what makes finding and keeping a sitter so incredibly hard for him is the fact that his son happens to not only be mute but also suffering from an anxiety disorder. the doctor they saw a few months ago was slightly astounded at the fact considering those illnesses usually don’t come up until later, sometimes not even until high school. letting strangers handle him is a recipe for disaster, but there’s no other way for him to get used to someone unfamiliar. even taking care of him while properly prepared and patient can be a challenge and most sitters don’t have the time or the energy to deal with that level of commitment.

the biggest issue is always the money no matter the day, week or month. sechan’s starting to imagine small scenarios that involve him getting robbed in his sleep, because it appears no matter how hard he works or how many hours he takes on from his four different jobs there’s never enough for him to ever have money left over. there was also the few therapy sessions required for hyunwoo to be eligible for the medication he needs to be able to go to school which was a chunk out of sechan’s wallet that he technically didn’t have, and that was excluding the medication in itself.

sechan stopped talking to his friends a while back because he can’t afford prepaid cards for his phone anymore - let alone a subscription - and everytime he runs into them at the store they get excited over going out for dinner and catching up over drinks. in those moments sechan’s stomach turns, flips around and threatens to spill its content when he thinks about how pathetically thin his wallet is and how hyunwoo is sitting at home hungry on the couch watching old, scratchy dvds because sechan forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday when he was supposed to and he can’t afford for them to have cable.

‘sorry, can’t talk, need to get home,’ are the words he spares them lately if they happen to see him in his flurry of throwing the cheapest cereal in his sparsely filled cart and debating if he can afford pop tarts this week or not. he thinks either they’ve forgotten he’s a father now or they don’t want to bring it up, because none of them ask how his son is doing.

sechan knows that if hyunwoo heard him crying he’d be in here in a heartbeat, so he’s glad that he’s left alone. it’s almost midnight and he has to get up for work in six hours, and that knowledge alone forces another sob past his lips. he’s too tired to function well these days, with work kicking his ass and his inability to be a proper parent even when he’s at home and there’s nothing to do. the guilt over the lack of attention and care hyunwoo is getting makes him feel like he’s choking, and yet he has no other option but to continue in the same manner.

the only thing that would help is a permanent sitter.

in the past sechan’s found sitters from recommendations by casual friends he’s made through the few parenting classes he went to once he first got hyunwoo. other parents at hyunwoo’s school have also been helpful from time to time but he’s too ashamed to go down that path again when he’s managed to slowly drive away every single one of them. no one has time for a father who comes back late and can’t afford to pay for the extra time, and no one has the flexible schedule to match up with other sitters during the weekend. everyone has their own lives to look after and just like sechan doesn’t have the time to bend for someone else, neither do they.

horror stories have been told to him about sitters found through online ads, but he’s beginning to realise that he might not have any other choice. there’s a clever but sweet mother from hyunwoo’s school who always attempts to give him advice when they see each other and she’s told him numerous stories about babysitters found on the internet treating children like dolls, making it clear they expected it to be an easy job and that they’re only in it for the money. he assumes she keeps telling him because of how clueless he seems during pta meetings, and the way he acts flustered whenever he’s requested to talk about his parenting experiences. he’s not the youngest parent in the group, but he is the youngest father and they’re all suspecting he’s a single parent.

the only other parent raising their child alone is a thirty-something business woman who’s determined to stay single but has craved motherhood all her life. she’s competent, knowledgeable and has been preparing for a baby for years upon years. she proudly speaks of doing everything by herself and how beautiful and smart her child is growing up to be because of her efforts. her adopted daughter elizabeth is a clear reflection of her despite only being three years old. the youngest parent is a gullible woman recently turned twenty who’s married to her four years older high school sweetheart.

“i guess i– i guess i’ll have to,” sechan mumbles to himself as he wraps the covers tighter against his body, pressing the fabric close to his mouth to keep the noise from his sobs from echoing off the walls.

he wipes the tears off his cheeks with the edge of his pillow, struggles with sitting up straight but manages with the help of his hands against the mattress. his old, beaten-up laptop is propped up on a few pillows after he sent an email to one of his managers this morning so he doesn’t have to reach far to get ahold of it. he places it on his lap once he’s opened it up, tears still running down his cheeks as he clicks his way onto google.

it takes him awhile to find a website that looks promising and not shady like most of them appear to be, so long that his tears have stopped coming and all that’s left inside him is an empty hole where some sort of feeling should reside. writing the ad is the hard part, because he doesn’t want to reveal too much to the people who will scrunch up their nose at the thought of taking care of a disabled child nor does he want to be deceitful and keep that information away from the people who won’t.

in the end, he decides the truthful approach is always better and types out a simple small letter to post on the website, hoping with all his heart that there’s a good person out there willing to give him and hyunwoo the benefit of the doubt. it feels wrong to write in a way he feels edges on begging, but he’s really desperate and it’s the least he can do for his son. soft, anxious hyunwoo who never did anything to deserve being dropped off into the arms of an incapable and irresponsible boy who hadn’t even finished college. when he clicks the blue publish button a small, additional window appears asking him if he’s sure he wants to publish. he’s not sure it’s what he really wants, but it’s what he needs so he closes his eyes and carefully presses his finger down against the mousepad. yes.

in urgent need of a babysitter in the cambridge area!

i’m a single father looking for a sitter who has enough time to regularly care for my four year old son. i work weekdays and weekends and would need someone able to pick my son up after school when i don’t have the chance to and look after him until i get out from work. i usually have long days all days of the week, so i’m understanding when it comes to not being able to make it a few days. i have other, more casual sitters at the moment but i’m looking for someone to fill up the majority of the time while they fill the smaller spaces.

my son’s name is hyunwoo and as i previously mentioned he’s recently turned four years old. i have to disclose he isn’t the easiest child to look after. since a few months back, he’s been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and isn’t comfortable with new people. it takes a while for him to get used to them, so that requires someone patient and kind who won’t get upset with him. in addition to that, he hasn’t spoken a word since his birth and it can create difficulties with communicating.

if this sounds okay to you, you might very well be the person i’m looking for. please look below for my contact information and don’t be afraid to ask if you have any questions.

he can feel blue's impatient eyes on him, gazing thoughtfully at his face and making sam feel a trickle of annoyance while he sits in front of him. "you're the last person i know who needs a job." blue deadpans, saying the word like it offended him and his entire family. not that blue has much of a family, he moved out from his mom's place years ago and as far as sam's aware he hasn't talked to her since then-- but it's in the expression. blue's face has a quality of making him feel like a total fucking idiot and even though sam would laugh in most occasions because he beckoned that on purpose, this time he's serious. he isn't being sarcastic or telling an obvious lie, he has a genuine plan and blue is looking at him like he just told him he came from space. it makes him feel immediately defensive and he scowls, leaning back on his chair to cross his leg over the other. 

"this is the last time i ask you for help." he says, indignantly looking away. even if he can't see blue rolling his eyes he can feel him doing it, and for a vague second he regrets never being serious about anything because blue is so used to his bullshit that he thinks even this is bullshit, too. it brings a grin to his lips but he fights against it, making sure blue won't crash through his facade. the truth is that he loves making people feel unsure around him, and all of the time no one is really sure if he's being serious or not. it's his favorite form of social interaction.

"why would you want a job?" that offended tone again.

"i'm seriously considering kicking you under the table," sam says, leaning in. there's no real threat to his voice, just slight irritation and impatience. "i need a job for experience. it's the summer and i can do it, so just get me something that you think can help me." he tries keeping the biting tone to a minimum, but some of it still slips out. blue doesn't seem affected, to his credit. he just keeps looking at him and sam feels his temples starting to hurt. "oh my god, i told you i'm serious." he sighs loudly, bringing his hands up to thumb over his forehead. talking to blue can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. he always wants all of the facts. sam's idea of communication is giving half of the facts and maybe some lies to fill in the gaps. truthful lies. good fiction is the truth inside the lie, stephen king said it. a good lie is the truth within the lie. he wants a job because of the experience but also because he loves children. 

"fine, i'll find something." blue sighs, bringing the plastic straw to his lips and sipping his drink. even though he said he'd help, he sure doesn't sound like he wants to. it doesn't really matter to sam, though. blue can think whatever he wants about his request. the only reason sam specifically asked for his help is because blue is good at these type of things. he has the experience that sam doesn't about being poor-- as conceited as it may sound. he respects blue even if he'd never tell him. sam was born into an extremely wealthy family and he grew up never having to worry about money. blue grew up staring at an empty fridge and wearing clothes too small for him because his mom didn't care enough to notice he had grown out of them. he's smart in a way that sam never had to learn to be. 

"thank you." sam says despite himself, even though it comes out in a tired sigh.

                                                                               ***

"--please look below for my contact information and don't be afraid to ask if you have any questions..." 

"so?" blue leans his chin on the top of his palm, raising his eyebrows expectantly at sam. leaning back from the laptop, sam keeps his face carefully blank. he's not sure about what he was expecting, but he has to hand it to the other. he seemed to know exactly what type of job sam needed, even if sam hadn't even known himself until now. the more he thinks about it the more it fits. he figured only he could find a job like this appealing for himself if he happened to come across it, and it leaves him slightly unsettled that blue hit the bulls eyes on his situation. 

"i need to read it again." sam says bleakly, not divulging anything to blue. blue purses his lips and watches him lean in again, but sam ignores him and starts over from the top. single father, kid is four years old. sam's good with four year olds. anywhere from ten to down is his preferred age range in humans. Interacting with kids is so much more fulfilling and simple than interacting with grown ups. despite the fact sam is apathetic and a realist himself, he appreciates the genuinely of kids. everything about them is so honest and for a reason above even his own comprehension he feels tidal waves of protectiveness over children. 

hyunwoo sounds like the epitome of needing protection. sam hasn't even met the kid but the fact that the father mentioned needing someone patient and kind makes sam wonder if any of his previous babysitters treated him wrongly and it makes an uncomfortable knot tie up in his chest. unconsciously, he tugs at the collar of his loose t-shirt as if trying to ease himself from the feeling. breathing out, he sits back again with his gaze still lingering on the text. "so?" blue presses again, sounding unnerved that it's taking sam some leisure time to consider it. 

"i'll take it." sam replies easily, his expression still not giving much away about whether he actually likes the job or not. it's not on purpose this time, though. this time he's too lost in thought to notice blue reach across the table for his phone and start dialing a number until he hands it back to him and with mild horror sam sees it's already ringing. "what the fuck?" he quickly reaches out to take it despite his sudden nerves, looking at blue like he just about lost his fucking mind. "well, you need to call him." blue replies as if it's the most painfully obvious thing in the world. "what do you mean, i just--" the receiver picks up and he's no longer hearing the ringing tone on the other side of the line, now he can hear the muffling of someone bringing the phone up to their ear.

"-- hello?"

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

Sechan smiles fondly at Sam as he announces his number, ignoring his request at telling him the meaning behind his words. He figures that if Sam is the type of person to not understand them in the first place, it’s better to leave it at that. The more Sechan looks at Sam now and thinks about his behaviour, facial expressions and choice of words, the smaller he seems to become. Before responding to him, he makes a mental note of keeping an eye out for Sam now that he’s seemed to have shrunk a couple of years in his mind.

“Two,” Sechan says, his voice going slightly higher as if he was speaking to a child, not an echo since Sam made a terrible attempt at speaking Spanish. “I hope you enjoy your stay, and you can stand over by the stairs. I’ll send the other number two your way.”

Nate is the next to grab a number and he does so in silence. Four is what his note says when he lifts it up to show Sechan. He absentmindedly thinks about how that means Nate will share with two other people, and how that isn’t the most ideal thing in the world. “Just stand on the rug,” he says, gesturing over at it before turning to the next person.

It’s an uneventful event, with every person taking their number at their turn and then following Sechan’s orders of standing next to their roommate. Adrian is the last, aside from Sechan, to pull out a number. Two is scribbled messily on the small piece of paper. Sechan chuckles when he realises this means the tallest and the shortest out of their members will share a room. He hopes Sam won’t mind.

Nate and Jaime are standing on the rug for room number four without their third person, so Sechan doesn’t need to grab the last note to know that he’s sharing a room with them. He sends a big smile Nate’s way because he must realise this as well. It’s funny, because they’re the last people who need to share a room considering the fact that they already live together and spend every single day with each other. Though, Sechan can’t complain. Nate’s his favourite person after all. Once Nate meets his gaze he gestures between them with his index finger as if saying, ‘You and me. Again,’ and puckers his lips up to send him a playful kiss. Sechan’s the best at showing affection through silly flirting and cheesy lines.

“Alright,” he exclaims loudly once he remembers he needs to address the rest of the group. “The person standing next to you is who you’ll be sleeping with tonight. In a completely platonic manner, of course. Okay, I’ll grab room one and two and show them where to drop their stuff and room three and Jaime can follow Nate. I’m in room four, by the way, which is the only room three people will share. Since both me and Nate will be staying there, that’s where you go if you have anything you need to talk about. If you can’t find it, you’ll probably hear my really loud voice talking all the time, so just follow that. Anyways, if Sam, Adrian, Billy and Jimin could gather up here with their shit, that’d be great. We’re going upstairs.”

“Yes sir,” Sam says as he goes off to stand by the stairs, throwing Sechan a last smile. 

After that he sits down on the second step as he watches everyone pick their number, playing with the piece of paper in his hand and waiting for someone to get two as well. When Jimin picks a number he throws a sad glance at Jaime who’s already rooming with Nate (good luck, Sam thinks.), then looks over to Sam and gives him the same expression. Sam shrugs, pouting his lips and furrowing his eyebrows upwards, sad that he and Jimin didn’t end up together. 

That still leaves hope for him and Sechan, though, and after Jimin goes to stand next to Billy, Sam looks over at Adrian who’s last to pick. He mentally crosses his fingers, hoping he won’t pick two, and after a few seconds have passed and Adrian chooses, Sam visibly deflates when he’s making his way towards him. He quickly perks up though, to not let Adrian see he was definitely hoping for Sechan, and smiles up at him as he stands up again.

“I’m really cuddly when I’m asleep,” Sam says, grinning playfully. He hates standing next to Adrian, because he really has to look up to meet his face and it makes his short stature even more obvious. He’s joking about the cuddling, he actually usually keeps still in his sleep though he doesn’t see the harm in joking about it. 

He see’s Adrian roll his eyes before looking down at him. “That’s great, you’re really small it’ll be like having a teddy bear.” He says, unamused, and Sam smiles wider, fighting not to roll his eyes at the short joke and instead laughs, looking over to Sechan as he keeps saying out directions. 

hen Sechan instructs them to, he goes over to where he left his bag, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder. Then, he walks back to the stairs where said boy is waiting for them. He grabs a hold of Jimin’s arm as he does, catching his attention. “Maybe tomorrow?” He says with a small laugh, and Jimin nods and laughs as well. “I can tell you over the wall.” He says, and Sam chuckles as he drops his hand. “Deal, I’ll be waiting.” He nods, and then turns his attention back to Sechan. 

“I can carry your bag for you,” He says with a smile, extending his arm out towards Sechan. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

Sechan stares at the other boy as his expression fades into one of confusion. He wonders if he’s truly so innocent that he didn’t understand him, or if he’s simply unfamiliar with flirting with actual words, and last but not least, Sechan guesses he could turn out to be straight even after the whole ‘You look nice when you smile’ thing, or whatever he said. Even if it would be an unfortunate discovery, given how Sechan can’t even fantasise about boys once he’s realised they’re straight, as if they have a force field around them that repels his attraction, it’d be fine.

Being asked if he’s a good singer is what does it for him. He raises his eyebrows in disbelief, a wide smile spreading on his lips before a short, very amused laugh slips past them. “Oh, kid,” he says, voice suddenly radiating the feeling that Sechan’s well aware Sam’s younger than him, and he lifts his hand up to lightly ruffle Sam’s hair in a way that matches the tone of his voice well. “Sure, let’s say that. What’s your number?”

“What?” He asks and closes his eyes when Sechan ruffles his hair, smiling but still confused. “What do you mean?” His tone is slightly whine-y, like he is the kid Sechan’s treating him like right now. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know what else his voice is good for, if not for singing or announcing. Is he good at impressions? Whatever, Sam’s not gonna say something else that’s obviously not it.

He grips a piece of paper and pulls his hand out, looking down at it after suddenly going quiet. After unfolding it he takes a look inside before raising it up towards Sechan. “Numero dos,” he says with a bad accent, still smiling. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

“Mm, you did just now,” Sechan responds absentmindedly, smile small and playful as he looks down at the other. He has to look down quite a bit because Sam really is very petite especially considering the sport they’re playing. You don’t have to be the most muscular player to get by, but height is never going to stop being greatly valued. Though, Sechan appreciates the effort it takes to do something for yourself that your body isn’t necessarily ideal for.

As the rest of the boys take the place in the line in front of him, Sechan tilts his head to the side a little. He bites down on his bottom lip - something he frequently does while flirting even it’s not a conscious action - and lowers his voice as he says, “You know, that’s not the only thing it’s good for.”

He keeps looking at him the same way as he holds the bag of numbered papers up in front of him, shaking it a little to show that Sam can begin the sorting process by pulling his number.

He keeps looking up at Sechan with the same smile, thinking (not for the first time) that he’s even more appealing up close. Not that he's got anything particular in mind, Sechan's just good looking. Anyone would call Sam's train of thought one of logic. He doesn't have any ulterior motives besides getting Sechan to notice him, since he is one of the co-captains and it's obviously important. 

When he tilts his head to the side Sam follows the action, mimicking him and putting on a practiced expression that consists of 50% careful nonchalance, 20% innocence, 25% flirtatiousness and 5% low key 'I know what i'm doing.' Though when Sechan talks again with a lower voice he has to take a moment, realizing he has no idea what he just said. His expression mirrors his feelings with confusion apparent, and he thinks it over again only to find out he really doesn't know what it means.

He lowers his eyes to the bag when Sechan gently shakes it, raising his hand slowly to reach inside it as he looks back up at Sechan, still confused. "Are you a good singer, or something?" He asks with a small smile, breathing out a laugh that's mostly just a vague 'ha' as he brings his hand inside the bag.

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

Sechan opens the door for everyone, leaves it wide open despite the cold so that everyone can walk in without accidentally shoving another member as they do so. Sneaking a look inside, he can tell the place hasn’t changed since he last visited. A huge pot of green flowers Sechan doesn’t recognise, plenty of space to put shoes and hang coats, a long dark red carpet shoved up against the wall of the hallway and last but not least, a large photo framed on the wall of Sechan and his family on his mother’s side. He was a bit younger back then, his cheeks fuller but his body still shaped the way he wants it to, so it’s only vaguely embarrassing.

He stands on the porch, switching between leaning his weight on the right foot and the left foot as he impatiently waits for the final boy to step into the warm and cosy building, and when he has Sechan follows after the group. Everyone’s started taking their jackets and coats off, throwing their bags on the floor and quietly talking amongst themselves. Sechan closes the door behind them, and suddenly it feels more real than it had earlier this week. They’re a team now. Sechan’s finally got a team.

“Okay,” he says loudly, in his usual happy announcer voice. The room goes quiet as the other boys turn to look at him, some looking more displeased than others. Sechan digs a hand into his pocket and after a few seconds he pulls out a moderately big white sack. Shaking it a little so they can hear the slight rattle inside, he makes sure to look at each of them as he keeps talking, “This bag contains nine equally sized notes. Each note has a number on it: this number is the number of the room you’ll be staying in this first night. This means the person with the same number as you is your new roommate. Changing with someone is so illegal, you have no idea. To make sure you don’t, why don’t we have all of you line up in front of me? You’ll pull a note and you’ll show me the number. I’ve got a great memory so don’t even try to pretend you got another number. As I said earlier: if you don’t want to bond then get off the team. So, if no one’s got questions, you can start lining up?”

Sam listens as Sechan talks, nodding along to what he's saying with half of an attentive expression, the other half tired. However when Sechan first tells them to line up in front of them Sam perks up, smiling as he goes to stand in front of him before he's even done talking. He likes being first and making impressions, and he catches Nate throw a confused glare at him when he takes what they both assumed to be Nates spot, but shrugs it off with a smile as the ladder goes to stand behind him. 

Standing in front of Sechan with a smile and his hands laced in front of him, he looks up at the taller boy. "Has anyone ever told you you have a good announcer voice?" He asks lightly, tilting his head slightly as the rest of the boys start lining up behind them.

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

Sechan’s stuck around with Nate throughout the walk, carefully separating himself from the new members to give them a chance to get familiar with one another. Both he and Nate will have plenty of space to do that later on, what with them being co-captains and everything, so he thinks leaving them to it for a few moments during the weekend will do them all good. There are a few of them he’s more concerned with, for example Jaime who doesn’t seem to be interested in social interaction or facial expressions, and Adrian who’s constantly making underhanded jokes that aren’t always appreciated by the person hearing it.

Other than those two, Sechan thinks they have a good group of people to start out with.

His aunt’s house isn’t the most spectacular thing in the world, but it’s large enough to give room to a group of college boys looking to get closer with each other. In fact, Sechan’s very happy about it in general given the multiple number of bedrooms his aunt has invested in despite her living alone. Though, it’s slightly sad thinking about the reason as to why there are so many places to sleep. His aunt, who’s definitely not a bad woman, had obviously hoped for more of her relatives to visit her. Knowing his mother loathes her sister, Sechan feels a tug of sympathy for her.

Sechan starts to slow down as they approach the front yard, and the group start to match his pace once they notice. They fall silent as he turns towards them, arms high in the air as he gestures over to the house. “Here it is,” he exclaims as positively as his tired mind can muster. “If everyone can just make their way inside we can start the whole thing off by drawing lots to see who’s rooming with who for the first day. We’ll be switching tomorrow so everyone gets a chance to spend more time with someone they’re unfamiliar with.”

Jimin looks over at Jaime when Sechan says they’re drawing lots instead of deciding themselves, and Sam also throws a glance over at him and sees him furrow his eyebrows slightly while shrugging at Jimin. He doesn’t look particularly happy about that, he notes. Sam, on the other hand, finds himself fine with the idea. He only shrugs and smiles apologetically when Jimin looks over to him, their dream of rooming together probably crushed unless they happen to end up together, which Sam doubts. 

“Maybe we’ll still end up in the same room. Or you and Jaime.” Sam quietly chuckles, tugging lightly on Jimin’s arm. The boy just nods and smiles, not looking too bothered by having to room with someone he doesn’t know that well. At least not as much as Jaime. 

They start walking inside and Sam figures that he doesn’t mind ending up with anyone, really. There’s a few he’d prefer over others, but overall he doesn’t know anyone well enough to really judge. Once inside, Sam puts down his bag and rubs his aching shoulder, looking over to find Sechan and wait for instructions. 

[punkcrew-blog]

Sam's walking behind the flock with his phone pressed against his ear and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He see's the others talking among themselves as they walk, being far enough to hear their voices but unable to distinguish what they're saying. He's on the phone with a friend from class, vaguely understanding what she's saying into the receiver while being too busy paying attention to the backs of his maybe teammates. Not that he's checking anyone out, not Jimin and especially not Sechan, but he does admit they both look nice from back here. 

"Okay, yeah, I'll email you the PDF if I have time this weekend and if not then on Sunday night." He says, focusing back on the call. His friend agrees and thanks him, and after a mumbled goodbye Sam hangs up the phone, glad to be done listening to an annoyingly controlling classmate and pocketing his phone as he jogs up besides Jimin.

"And he didn't notice even after he went to the bathroom, where there was a huge mirror." Jimin's telling a story as a few others listen along, and Sam smiles as he reaches to link their arms while the boy is laughing at the memory. "That sounded like a fun story, tell it to me later?" Sam asks in a light tone, looking at him with the same friendly grin. Jimin looks at him like he's surprised he wants to listen to the whole story, and doesn't seem fazed at all that their arms are linked. "Of course!" He nods just as they're walking up to the front yard of the house Sechan's aunt let them borrow for the weekend, unaware that they’re already there. "You should room with me and Jaime!" He adds and Sam's smile widens at how excited he seems. 

“Yeah, sure.” He nods, secretly wishing he could room with both Jimin and Sechan. Not that he doesn’t like Jaime, he seems fine, but he’s just not his type. Okay, well, Sam should probably remind himself that he’s not here to find people to make out with, so he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of flirting even though that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s kind of been flirting the whole time, though, right from the get go with Sechan and his smile and the stolen glances and Jimin and the constant touching. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

Adrian’s desperately trying to control his breathing, taking slow and subtle but deep breaths to keep himself from appearing overly exhausted. He is - there’s no doubt about that - and he’s slightly annoyed with their captains for going this hard on them during what is not even a real practice. It makes him curious, a bit terrified and regretful that he decided to do this when he wonders if it’ll be worse than this the coming times. Performance wise he’s sure he did well, but compared to their more experienced captain he’s lacking in some areas. He can’t help but watch him to see what he’s doing wrong, even though he hates looking down on himself because he knows he can do better, and be better in all areas when he puts effort into something.

He’s wiping off the sweat clinging onto his jawline with the edge of his t-shirt arm, glancing up at the two co-captains and their awkward manager who are talking rather vividly amongst themselves. The tall one, Sechan, appears even more tired now than he was before they started working out but strangely Adrian gets the feeling it’s not a physical thing. Sky is still putting down notes in her little book, and Nate carries the same expression all through the conversation. They’re most likely discussing how they did and seeing if they fit the position they claimed was their best at the start of this whole thing. Something hurts inside him as he very accidentally imagines them talking badly of him, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to shove the thought away.

Everyone is still cooling off, stretching out their sore muscles and some are talking happily with each other like what they really came here for was making friends. Adrian stands alone when the captains turn back towards them, his eyebrows furrowed up in thought. Nate calls out for them, but it’s Sechan that launches into the big speech, making it very clear he’s always going to be the talker out of the two.

“Listen up,” Sechan says, eyes lighting up in a way that almost seems practiced. “So, we’ve talked it through and we’ll continue to do so throughout the rest of the week, but we’ve decided the position for most of you already. We won’t be telling you now but instead we’ll break it down for everyone this weekend. Like, the thing about this weekend is that we’ve decided we’re going to hold an obligatory sort of “get to know each other” sleepover. It’s required. That means you all have to be there, for those who didn’t get it. If you don’t show up, you won’t get a position. It’s mandatory. Compulsory. Everyone has to be there no matter if they think it’s stupid.”

Adrian scoffs, because he does think it’s stupid, but the look Sechan sends him as he does immediately makes him shut up. He’s not about to piss off the person in charge so much that he’ll get a grudge against him. He’s here for a starting line position, he’s going to be one of the ones on top, and Sechan is half of the team that can put him there.

“As I was saying,” Sechan continues, his eyes narrowing in on Adrian in a way he wants to avoid, “everyone has to be there, or they’ll get cut from the team. If you can’t be there because you’re sick or whatever, I expect a damn doctor’s note. I’m serious. This is an important part of building the team. If you’re not into trust exercises or interacting with your team to become stronger, this isn’t gonna be the team for you. Trust and knowledge is what we’re lacking - it’s what all the other teams already have - and it’s completely necessary to winning. Like, if it was up to me you’d all be living and eating together. Breathing in each other’s faces. These teams have years on us, and right now we’re not a team: we’re individuals. I’m here to change that. Any questions? Opinions? Objections?”

His expression brightens the moment Sechan mentions a sleepover, and though he was feeling elevated before it's even more so now. Jimin basically lives for sleepovers, he loves them. Back home he didn't get many chances to sleep over at his friends' house, mostly because his parents never let him and Jaime didn't seem to like being in his own house even though he spent most of his time there. That means Jimin has been to around five or six sleepovers since his birth, so if you ask him he's definitely deprived. 

He notices Adrian's scoff and the look Sechan shoots his way, daring him to complain about it. In fact, he's daring everyone to complain about it and Jimin's glad he was born with this tremendous attraction of sleeping over at places besides his regular sleeping space. 

"I'm excited!" Jimin finds himself saying, expression telling everyone that he is, indeed, excited. His ears go red at his inability to think before speaking, but it's not like he said a lie so he doesn't see the harm in it, he's mostly just embarrassed at the attention. 

"Me too, I love bonding." Sam adds beside him as he leans almost all of his weight on Jimin and throws a wink around the circle. Jimin's too preoccupied thinking about the weekend to really register the fact Sam's leaning on him so casually, and it doesn't seem to strike him as odd since he usually welcomes touch and it actually makes him feel like they're closer so he makes sure not to loose his balance so neither of them topple over. "Right?" Sam asks towards Adrian, looking up at him with a grin and raising his hand for a high-five.

[punkcrew-blog]

"You can't use your powers in the hall!" Tequila is halfway through a wall when she turns back at the monitor, raising her middle finger at the annoying kid who's definitely gonna write her up later.  As all of her 'fuck it' moments go though, she might as well. "Fuck off you snitch!" She yells behind her right before passing into the hallway on the other side of the wall, scaring a kid into tearing off the metal door of his locker when she pops up in front of him. "Oops, sorry!" She smiles, walking through him and throwing him into even more confusion as she solidifies herself behind him. 

She knows she's cranky when she hasn't gotten any sleep, so she decided to nap in her dorm until it was time for the whole tour thing to start. She should've probably remembered to set an alarm, though. It's not her fault she also happens to be terrible with punctuality, 'happens' because the universe continuously puts things in her path that make her always be late. Like right now.

     "Okay, okay, I'm here!" She rushes in, nearly bumping right into Jw. "I know we said to meet like, an hour ago, for the assembly and all... but some things came up." She breathes out, flipping her hair away from her face and breathless from all of the running around. "Thanks for taking care of the whole, group arrangement thing." She smiles, pretending to bump Jw's shoulder with her knuckle. "Just so you know I had to run all the way here from the dorms so I got what I deserved." She nods, like that was enough to convince her fellow tour guide not to be pissed at her. "I'll buy ya lunch later?" She smiles innocently, feigning to bump his shoulder again.

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

“Kinda cute?” Yoongi echoes, voice edging on sceptical, and absentmindedly pushes his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose. If he was a braver person, a person more used to speaking his thoughts, Yoongi would tell the boy he’s kind of cute. He can tell he is, even in the subtle darkness, and if he was the one who was lost Yoongi’s sure he’d describe him as that. The other has pretty, droopy eyes and nice cheeks.

“That’s subjective, isn’t it?” he answers once he remembers he’s not alone and that Jimin is only here to get an answer out of him. “Either way, I haven’t seen anyone. I’ve just been reading. No one tends to come over here unless they’re going to the store. Have you looked there?”

Jimin starts looking stubborn again, glancing away and pursing his lips in a slight manner. “Well, I guess it is...” He mumbles, shrugging slightly. He’s sure anyone would say Jungkook’s a cute kid though, because he is.

When the other mentions the store Jimin’s face lights up again, not having thought about it before. Of course, how could he forget the store? If he were Jungkook and he were lost he’d probably want to stay where there’s a least a little bit of civilization, even if that’s just a small corner store in seemingly the middle of nowhere with a kind old man running it. “Right!” He says, nodding. He turns around to yell about this discovery to his group but is terrified to find Taehyung running at him at full speed. 

“Jiminnie, they found Kookie and Hyunnie!” He yells loudly right before nearly tackling him to the ground. Jimin struggles to keep standing, and only registers the meaning of Taehyung’s words after said boy is keeping him still with both hands firmly on his shoulders and grinning right in front of his face. “Oh my god, really?” Jimin says, voice loud as well. They start jumping and holding each other excitedly before Jimin remembers the boy sitting on the porch and moves away from Taehyung’s hold, his laughter fading. “Oh, uh... thanks for trying to help.” He says, and Taehyung gasps and steps back beside him. “Holy fish sticks, I hadn’t noticed you there,” he breathes out shakily, and Jimin giggles at how similar his reaction was. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

Albeit a bit slowly, they all get up from their positions and move to stand in a half circle around the two captains. Their manager hasn’t said a word to them, simply sitting back and sneaking glances at them as she takes notes in one of her books. Adrian can’t for the life of him see what she’d need to write down when they’re literally just stretching, but maybe she’s a part of the decision making as well. Adrian doesn’t want to get cut because he couldn’t stretch properly, nor does he think he will get cut. At first glance, he could already tell he’s the tallest out of the bunch.

He isn’t confident at all parts of volleyball, but he knows he can play the position he wants well. That’s the important part and he’ll know that if their captains are the least bit smart they’ll see that. Height makes hard things easier in volleyball, which is why Adrian is especially glad he isn’t going into this with 165 cm to his name.

He snaps his attention back to the words of the shorter, more aggressive looking one as he goes through how they’ll be challenged. Stimulating a realistic game with frequent switching of positions. Adrian thinks he can handle that beautifully even with some of his more obvious weaknesses. As they split them up across the court, calling out their positions and whatnot, Adrian thinks that at least he won’t have to prove that he can jump his way to being 20 cm taller than he is.

Breathing heavily, Jimin stands bent over with his hands on his knees and sweat rolling down the sides of his face. Just because it was a simulation of a real game didn't mean it was any less tiring, he quickly learned. They changed positions so many times so there'd be a full rotation that he doesn't remember exactly how many it was, all he knows is that he gave it his best.  

He doesn't really consider himself to be good at volleyball. Sure, he spikes well, but that's about it. He simply just has the strength to send the ball slamming down but not the technique. 

That's probably because he's never actually been in a volleyball team-- unless elementary school counts-- so it's not like he expects himself to succeed in everything. He's only ever helped Jaime practice and sometimes stood in for one of the team members who couldn't make it to practice in their old high school's volleyball team. The only thing he's sure of is spiking, because Jaime thinks he's good at it and it feels like he did well in that position. Other than that, though, he definitely needs some work on. Serving especially isn't his strong suit, and he proved that when he nearly served the ball straight into the back of Sam's head and if it wasn't for the other having scarily good reflexes he would've definitely hit him. 

The thought brings him to glance around at the others, finding said boy sitting on the gym floor after the last game. He isn't in a much better state than Jimin, breathing heavily with sweat glazing his face. During the games he noticed that Sam kept going for the ball even when he wasn't playing libero, and though he knows they're supposed to do that, he always did it faster than the person actually playing in that position which almost caused a few head butts. Other than that his receives were the most solid he's seen, and the only part Jimin notices he's lacking in is when he played middle blocker but that was sort of a given. 

Next, he looks over at Jaime who's standing wiping sweat from his forehead with the inside of his t-shirt, so his face is covered. It was probably obvious to everyone that Jaime's the best at playing setter, Jimin thinks. He was considered the ace in his old team because of how well he connected with the players during games. He spent time learning and analyzing what timing worked best for the spikers and at what height he'd set the ball from person to person. Jimin noticed his performance seemed messier than usual, but he assumed it was because he wasn't used to playing with anyone but Jimin.

"Alright, gather 'round." Nate calls over from the other side of the net, tiredly motioning for them. Jimin is impressed by him more than anyone, and that's probably because he's also a spiker. He seems to have not only the strength but the technique that Jimin is lacking and it makes him see him in a new light. He realized how much he wanted to be here and learn from him when they were playing, because Jimin can't deny that being able to slam past blocks is cool as hell. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

It’s the first time Yoongi’s ever spoken to one of the campers. No one’s ever walked up to his porch before, so he hasn’t had any reason to. It makes his heart thump uncomfortably faster, because he knows if Dohee was here he’d be shoved inside while she handled whatever the boy needed. She’s never explicitly told him he can’t talk to the campers, but he assumes she sees it as an unspoken rule. It’s something Yoongi has always just known.

But Dohee isn’t around right now, so Yoongi lays the book down beside him, bookmark nicely tucked in between the pages. He tilts his head to the side, eyes not leaving the other. “Yeah…” he replies slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re one of the campers?”

“Yeah! I’ve been coming here for three summers.” Jimin replies, nodding a few times. He remembers his friends waiting down the road and Jungkook’s face flashes in his head. He realizes he’s not here to chat no matter how curious he may be about the other. Taking a look around to see if he can spot the pair, he takes a few steps to glance over the side of the house. Then, he steps back to where he stood before. 

“By the way, have you seen two boys around here? Both have black hair, one of them is about this tall,” Jimin moves his hand out and puts it in front of him at his head’s height. “Big eyes, little bit of acne, kinda cute?” He adds, dropping his hand and looking at the stranger with a hopeful expression. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

He slaps himself, mentally, because he can tell how royally he’ll fuck this whole thing up. In fact, Yoongi shouldn’t have been trusted with this responsibility in the first place, even if it is his apartment. Namjoon should’ve done it in his place, treating the stranger with the perfect amount of respect and throwing in just enough charm. Yoongi is a mess, all over the place, splattered paint on a white wall. He can’t help but indulge in ways he shouldn’t, and frequenting spaces he’s not allowed to be in.

To keep himself grounded - and to keep himself from spitting out some bullshit to make himself look cool - Yoongi reminds himself that he needs to stay professional. If he can’t even hold one interview for a boy that’s giving a pleasant enough first impression, then how the hell is he going to get a roommate. He can’t afford this place on his own, and it’s a really lovely place without many faults that Yoongi worked his ass off to find. He might’ve even sabotaged the chances for other people who wanted it by trash talking them - tastefully - with the landlord. He’s not about to give it up.

He takes a deep breath.

“Cool,” he says, casually, and pushes the door open further. He gestures into the apartment, a clear indication that Jimin should step inside. “This is the place, uh, just take your shoes off before you get inside. I like it clean.”

Jimin curiously glances inside when Yoongi opens the door to let him in, looking at all of his immediate surroundings as he steps inside. “Uh, sure.” He says distractedly, leaning down to remove his left shoe and balancing on his right foot as his eyes keep scanning the area. It’s an overall nice looking place, Jimin thinks as he steps out of his other shoe. It’s clearly clean, and sorta spacey in a comfortable way. 

He likes that Yoongi’s not messy like his current roommate. He’s never said anything about not wearing shoes inside the dorm because the carpet is that thin, rough office type. However it still annoys him to the point of distress that his roommate never bothers to vacuum after he leaves crumbs of food behind or other small mysterious pieces of scrap that somehow always litter the floor. 

“It’s nice,” Jimin comments offhandedly, taking a last glance before he looks back at Yoongi. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

When he had been told - along with the others - to spend the time they were waiting for their co-captains to change stretching and preparing, Adrian had been fine. He put in the work he knew he had to without complaining, because it’s what he signed up for. Stretching is vital, and he gets that Sechan and Nate just came out of class and didn’t have the time to fix everything in advance. It’s a reasonable request, but what isn’t is taking a fuck load of time to do it.

“I’m gonna fucking commit,” Adrian mutters under his breath as he sits down on the floor to reach for his feet for the 20th time. There’s only so many stretching techniques to fill the time.

Just as he’s talked himself into that this is shit and that he should get out before he’s made this an obligation, their devoted, trusted co-captains throw the door open and step inside, now dressed appropriately for working out. Adrian practically sinks into the floor with how deep he’s sighing.

“Sorry, that took time,” the taller out of the two says, excusing them in a rather numb manner. His face looks flushed and his eyes are slightly bloodshot. Has he been crying?

Jimin sat in front of Jaime, reaching for his toes and feeling the pull on the backs of his knees and lower back. He’s flexible enough to go past his feet but he’s been doing that for the past fifteen minutes and it’s starting to get exhausting. He wonders where the captains are and if the club’s room is far from the gym, frowning slightly as he moves into a different stretching position. 

“Want me to help you stretch again?” He asks Jaime, completely out of boredom. Jaime’s sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees and his cheeks in his hands, and he glances up at Jimin when he speaks. “You’ve already helped me like five times.” He deadpans, and Jimin can hear the light boredom mixed with annoyance in his voice. He doesn’t take it personally, because he knows how easily irritated his friend gets and he’s grown used to it by now.

“I’m bored,” Jimin sighs with a small pout, and finds himself looking at the other boys in the gym. The shortest one-- Sam-- is glancing at Adrian from his stretching position after the ladder mutters something he can’t hear from where he sits. They both look nice enough and Jimin plans to befriend them if they all end up on the team. 

Just as he’s moving into yet another position, the door opens and the captains step inside. Jimin sits up in attention, glad the waiting's finally over. The first captain who introduced himself looks off, Jimin notes, but isn’t given enough time to contemplate it before the second one with all of the tattoos steps forward after closing the door. “Gather round and we’ll explain what’s next.” He calls out, motioning lazily for them. 

[punkcrew-blog]

rockcrew:

It’s soundless now; Sechan’s tears running down his cheeks. Redness has bloomed on his face, and his eyes are about as bloodshot as they can get. He sniffles, pulls his jacket over his hand and starts patting the wet parts of his face. He needs to calm down, collect himself, and move on even if he can’t improve anything for himself at the moment. He tells himself he will improve, even if it needs to take time, and he feels silly for making such a big deal out of everything.

He realises what Nate is saying, and while it might will the noise of his ugly crying away it doesn’t make him feel much better. Sucking it up and pushing through hell has been what Sechan’s been doing everyday for quite a while now, despite it not being the same kind of hell Nate’s gone through. Nate bringing up his past has always had a silencing effect on him, because none of his problems will ever reach that point. No matter how bad he feels, thinking about what Nate’s been through makes him feel stupid for even thinking about complaining.

So, he doesn’t feel much better. It doesn’t make him feel good. What does make him feel better is the reassurance that he means something and Nate trying and putting himself through things for him will always make him feel cared for, even if he wishes it didn’t have to be like that.

“It had been easier if you had just wanted me,” Sechan says quietly, and immediately regrets opening his mouth, because he’s never told Nate how much hurt he went through back then. He never showed it. He never expressed what he felt in any way aside from the same playful flirting he does with most people. This confession doesn’t explicitly reveal Sechan’s emotions, but prodding at it and asking what he means might since he’s never been one to be able to keep his mouth shut. “I-I mean, nevermind. I’ll– I won’t give up, so don’t give up on me.”

Nate doesn't say anything to Sechan's confession, and instead stays quiet as he looks at him with a carefully blank expression. Maybe it could've been easier if Nate just decided to be Sechan's boyfriend, but he knows himself well enough that it would've been shit somehow. He would've fucked up. Sechan wanted too much attention and affection that Nate wouldn't be able to give him. Even if Sechan wouldn't say it himself, he knew. He knew Sechan held himself back with him but he never said anything because it was comfortable for him. The relationship wouldn't work simply because of what they both demanded. Sechan was warm and physical in a way that Nate wasn't. His definition of physical affection was playful shoves and hair pulling and the occasional arm around the shoulder. He wasn't even the type to enjoy holding hands.

He got moody and distant when big assignments started rolling in and he honestly thinks he wouldn't treat Sechan any differently if they were dating to how he treats him now. He'd still be rough and occasionally cold but just with added kisses. He already gave Sechan the energy he had for him and he could tell it wasn't enough. Even if Sechan told him he was willing to settle Nate wasn't, somewhere at the back of his mind he'd always be annoyed with him simply because he knew Sechan wanted more. 

He decided that he wasn't going to make that their relationship and somewhere along the line fully convinced himself that they'd never be together. It would've just been shit for Sechan. He didn't deserve someone who'd be annoyed with him because he wanted what most people gave each other. Nate wasn't ready for any commitment, either. He didn't have the time or space for a relationship.

"Okay," He said finally, after Sechan was done. He was glad he could make him see he was being stupid and opted out what he said about him wanting him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and began turning around again. "Let's fucking go then, i'm freezing my ass off."