Kpop Fics

Grace • 2003 • Assorted Kpop groups • Guidelines For Requesting • MASTERLIST

[sparklydreamies]

Hey guys, I am very sorry I haven’t been keeping up with writing recently. School has been so hard, and I just started a new job, so it’s getting difficult to find time to write :(( I haven’t even logged into this account in so long.. But my assumption is that I will have a lot more free time in the next coming weeks, so I am planning to write more then. Thank you all for your patience with me :)

I am currently working on the next chapter of Best Shot, as well as Hyunjin’s oneshot for the Stray Kids angst series I’ve started. Thank you all for the support <33 

[sparklydreamies]

OMG 03 GANG

SJDLFKLJ 03 GANG BBY :D

[sparklydreamies]

Best Shot ~Ch 5

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 4200+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about.

Main themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

A/n: Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to update this, I had a really bad case of writers block :(( I’m not 100% happy with this chapter, but I hope that you guys can all enjoy it!! 

Chapter 5

A glimpse of jet-black hair was all Jisung needed to recognize the girl making her way down the hall. She was slightly lip-syncing to whatever song was playing from her earbuds, seemingly drifting her mind away from reality. Jisung had always known that she was pretty; she could even be classified as beautiful. Yet, as he discretely watched the way that her head slightly moved in time with beats that he couldn’t hear, he didn’t feel anything. 

Even though he knew that he was gay, he still tried to steer himself towards women. He admired how soft their skin was, and how good they smelled, and he wanted nothing more than to have feelings for a girl. He wanted to feel the same flutter towards seeing Nayeon walking down the halls as he did with seeing Minho. 

“You’re going to freak her out if you keep staring at her like that,” Felix warned, shoving a slew of loose papers into his backpack.

Jisung was taken aback. 

“I wasn’t staring at her,” Jisung leaned against the locker beside Felix’s, hoping Felix would drop it. Nayeon was still walking away from them, oblivious to the fact that she was the subject of a very awkward conversation. 

Seungmin scoffed. “I’m so tired of hearing about your girls,” he said.

“You have to admit that she’s hot.” Felix said, completely ignoring Seungmin as he closed his locker, “I still don’t understand why you won’t ask her out.” 

Seungmin also locked his locker and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Jisung’s not interested in girls, you know that Felix.” Seungmin chuckled. 

Jisung felt the air leave his lungs. Seungmin’s tone was joking, but the statement made him nervous. He didn’t trust his voice to respond, so he settled on giving a half-hearted smile as he fiddled his phone out of his pocket, desperate for a way out of the conversation. 

As if an angel on cue, Jisung heard his name being shouted from down the hall. All three boys shot their heads up towards the source of the interruption. Jisung barely registered the bright varsity jacket colour before an arm was thrown across his shoulder. 

“Hey, man!” Minho ruffled Jisung’s hair, giving a beaming smile to the other boys. “I’ve been looking for you. Can we talk? For like, a second?” he asked.

“I see that you guys are sharing secrets now,” Felix mocked annoyance, crossing his arms around his chest.

“See you later, nerd.” Seungmin pulled Felix with him towards the avalanche of people flowing into the main hallway. 

Jisung chuckled before turning towards Minho. No matter how many times Jisung saw the other boy’s bright smile, it never failed to make his heart flutter. 

“So what’s this about?” Jisung asked, warding off the unwanted tremor in his voice.

Minho didn’t seem to notice as he pulled the nervous boy behind him. “Well I wanted to talk to you about that party you’re going to throw.” 

“Party?” 

Jisung remembered the previous phone conversation with Minho. The way that Minho was slurring his words and whining to see Jisung. The event hadn’t left Jisung’s mind since it happened, and he wished to god that he could prevent the blush that rose to his cheeks and ears at the memory. 

He hadn’t forgotten about the part where Minho had asked him to throw a party, but Minho had been drunk when he called. Jisung just assumed that the alcohol in Minho’s system was what persuaded him to call Jisung, and that he would forget it even happened by morning. Obviously, he had been wrong. 

“Yeah, the party,” Minho continued, “everyone has to throw one when they join the team. It’s like... your initiation ceremony, or something like that.”

“Since when was this a thing?” Jisung had never heard of these parties before. 

Minho just laughed at him. “It’s been like this forever. Are you surprised by this? You literally never go to parties.” 

Jisung couldn’t rebuttal that. The only party he’d ever gone to was Bang Chan’s, and it didn’t exactly end well for him. 

“I can’t throw a party,” 

Jisung expected Minho to disagree and try to convince him that being in charge of dozens of drunk teenagers isn’t as difficult for someone like Jisung than he thinks. He wasn’t expecting Minho to agree with him. 

“I know, stupid,” Minho said, “you’re not gonna have to do it alone, we’ll all help,”

"That’s not so reassuring,” Jisung sighed. The idea of throwing a party that equals one of Bang Chan’s or Minho’s in his own house, where his mother and sister live, didn’t sit right with him. 

Minho just chuckled at him. “We’ll get the alcohol and everything, you don’t have to worry about that. We just need a location,” Minho said. 

It was possible that Jisung could find a time that his parents wouldn’t be home when he could have a party. His mother often had conferences and events that would require her to spend weekends out of town, usually just trusting Jisung to be responsible for himself and Chaeryeong, and Jisung’s father was usually out of the picture anyways. 

It’s not that Jisung wouldn’t be able to find an opportunity, however the idea of getting caught was what scared him the most. 

“I don’t know, there’s so much that can go wrong,” Jisung sighed as they reached the school exit, “Isn’t this peer pressure?” 

“It’s not peer pressure if your peers have good intentions,” Minho rebuttled. 

“It absolutely fucking is, and besides, what ‘good intentions’ could you possibly have for wanting to throw a party?” Jisung heard a car horn, and saw Hyunjin’s car across the street. Minho raised his hand as if to say he was coming, but still turned towards Jisung.

“Look, if you tell me right now that you don’t want to do this and that you think it’s a bad idea, I’ll respect it, but you have to seriously think. Okay?” Minho asked. 

Jisung thought about it for a moment. “Well... Yeah, I still think it’s a bad idea,” he said, smiling at the way that Hyunjin let out a frustrated sound. 

“Okay I was bluffing, you have to throw this party! Please?” Minho whined. “For your best friend?”

Jisung’s heart stopped. Minho was looking directly into his eyes with what Jisung could only describe as irresistible puppy-dog eyes. He was holding onto Jisung’s sleeve in a way that probably was not meant to be as cute as it was, and for the umpteenth time, Jisung had to try and calm the feelings that were threatening to paint his face with an exposing blush. 

“I...” he started, “Fuck, I’ll do it,” he agreed. Jisung couldn’t help but split his face into a smile at the way Minho jumped in victory.

“Yes, I knew you’d pull through!” Minho began to walk backwards towards Hyunjin’s car, yelling behind him “You won’t regret it!” 

As grateful as Jisung was then that he could make Minho happy, he wished that the boy’s last statement was true. As much as he wanted to believe that everything would be okay, he had no way of knowing what that future night would have in store for him. 

----

Private practices with Hyunjin usually went the same way every time. Jisung shows up, they talk for a little bit, go through a few warm up drills that feel like hell’s bootcamp, and then Hyunjin shows Jisung ways to practice basic basketball skills.

It wasn’t too difficult for Jisung. After a few weeks of this basketball business, Jisung had actually felt himself begin to enjoy the sport. It still wasn’t his favourite thing, and he hated playing in front of people, but he felt comfortable around Hyunjin.

The more that Jisung felt himself improve, the more that he began to like playing. His movements became quicker and more accurate, he fumbled the ball less, and he felt his own physical condition improving. He was getting used to running up and down the court, and it kept him from getting winded easily. 

Jisung shouldered the fence door open. It wasn’t unusual for him to let himself into Hyunjin’s backyard; usually the other boy was already waiting for him. 

Jisung came in just in time to see Hyunjin perfectly shoot a three-pointer shot as he dropped all of his stuff on the side of the makeshift half-court that Hyunjin’s dad had built a few years prior.

Once Hyunjin had began to show an aptitude towards the particular sport, Hyunjin’s father had pulled out all of the stops to allow Hyunjin to achieve the highest amount of success he could. Unlike Jisung’s parents who didn’t give a damn about what Jisung was to do with his life so long as it was a respectable career with a decently sized salary, Hyunjin’s parents had supported his interests, and helped him improve. 

Jisung often worried about the pressure that Hyunjin put on himself when it came to his basketball career. He knew that Hyunjin’s parents were hoping for a scholarship to come out of the endless hours and thousands of dollars that they had invested in their son’s biggest interest, even though the Hwangs were never the type of family that had to worry about how they were to pay for things like school. They weren’t like Jisung’s family, who needed to pray for a scholarship opportunity. 

As Hyunjin retrieved the ball, he shouted a quick greeting towards his student. 

Jisung noticed that something was wrong fairly quickly. The way that Hyunjin was holding himself was concerning to Jisung. It was hard for him to place what exactly was the matter, but it became quite clear as soon as Jisung saw his face clearly. 

Hyunjin’s left cheekbone was grossly discoloured. Underneath his eye, there was a large, dark purple blotch of bruised flesh. It looked like a very fresh wound. Someone had hurt him most likely within the past two days. 

Hyunjin was cowering away from his friend’s gaze, to no avail. He just continued dribbling the ball on the concrete as nonchalantly as he could with Jisung’s eyes staring daggers into his face. 

“What the fuck?” Jisung jogged up to where Hyunjin was winding himself up to shoot the ball again. Instinctively, Jisung raised a hand to hover around the injured area of flesh, but forced himself to back away when he saw Hyunjin visibly flinch. “Who did this to you?” 

“That doesn’t matter.” Hyunjin said, quite matter-of-factly. His tone was calm, and he was obviously faking the brightness that his eyes usually held. 

Jisung was thrown off guard by the answer. Of course it mattered. Someone had obviously struck his friend. “What are you talking about?” 

Hyunjin tried to feign a smile, but it did nothing to calm Jisung down. “It was a stupid fight. It doesn’t even hurt.”

Jisung felt like he knew Hyunjin better than he had known any of his other friends. They grew up together. One thing that Jisung knew for certain about his friend is that he isn’t a fighter. He didn’t get into “stupid fights”. 

Jisung settled for resting his hands on top of Hyunjin’s biceps, despite the awkward way Hyunjin tried to shove him off. 

“I know that’s not true.” Jisung saw an emotion flicker through Hyunjin’s eyes that he could barely make out. It flashed for barely a moment before Hyunjin blinked it away. It looked like fear. Fear, desperation, hopelessness. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Just drop it,” Hyunjin shook himself away from Jisung’s grip, “it doesn’t matter, and I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Jisung swallowed the feeling of pity for the boy. It had been a while since he saw any emotion come from him that wasn’t positive. 

“Hyunjin...” Jisung spoke softly, “what happened?”

“Nothing!” Jisung saw the first signs of tears threaten to slip down Hyunjin’s bruised cheek. “Go home, Sungie.”

Jisung let his hands fall from Hyunjin’s arms, who resumed his mindless dribbling of the ball. 

When Jisung and Hyunjin were young, they used to tell each other everything. Good things, bad things, ugly things. Every exciting, happy, sad or scary thing that happened to them could be shared in confidence. 

Hyunjin had never acted like this before. Jisung felt his heart crack. Someone had hurt Hyunjin to the point where he couldn’t talk about it. Hyunjin was in pain, but the scars went deeper than a bruise on his cheekbone. 

“Just tell me who did this,” he spoke softly. 

Hyunjin was silent as he shot the ball towards the net again, but he didn’t even hit the backboard. Jisung watched the pained expression on his face. The way that Hyunjin was blinking away the wetness in his eyes and softly chewing on his bottom lip. 

It almost looked like Hyunjin wanted to say something, but was stopping himself. 

“Hyunjin, I want to help you.” Jisung tried to coax out of him. It wasn’t like Hyunjin to keep things a secret from Jisung. But the more Jisung watched Hyunjin’s face, the more he realized that this wasn’t just some secret. There was something that ran deeper. Something that wasn’t easy to talk about. 

Right as Jisung noticed the first tear slide down the discoloured skin, Hyunjin shoved right past him, slamming the back door behind him as he took solitude in his house. 

----

Jisung watched Hyunjin for the next couple days. He watched as the bruise slowly started to fade from a deep, purplish colour, to a faded, yellow-green shade. 

He had heard rumors around the school about the nature of the assault on the school’s sweetheart, none of which Jisung had believed. He overheard some girls by his locker say that they heard it was because he tried to steal another man’s girlfriend. He heard some boys in his history class say it was because he ran into some trouble with a collage drug dealer. He had even overheard a group of kids speculate that Hyunjin’s father was the unknown attacker. 

All of those seemed too radical for Hyunjin. The boy was a lover, not a fighter. 

No matter how much Jisung stressed his brain, he couldn’t think of any reason that Hyunjin would have for fighting someone. And that was the toughest thing to accept. 

Jisung didn’t care about how Hyunjin didn’t trust him enough to tell him what happened. Sure, it hurt Jisung at first, but he knew that Hyunjin was obviously dealing with something. Some things were easier to deal with by oneself. 

So he waited. He remained there for Hyunjin in case the boy needed to rant. However as time progressed, it became harder to do that. Ever since that day in his backyard, Hyunjin had been avoiding and ignoring Jisung.  

Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt Hyunjin? Did he somehow do something to convince the other boy that he wasn’t a friend? No, it couldn’t be that. Hyunjin had tough skin; there was no way that Jisung could unknowingly hurt him to the point where Hyunjin would push him aside like this. 

Jisung needed a friend right now. He needed a friend that he could confide in without judgement. 

Jisung: Long week. Coffee?

The response he got was almost instantaneous. 

Mina<3: I’ll pick you up!

----

Very few people knew about how close Jisung and Mina had gotten. Even Jisung had failed to see how strong their growing friendship had gotten for a while. 

Mina had been dating someone for a few weeks now. She had been asked out by Choi Youngjae soon after Jisung had joined the basketball team and even though Jisung wasn’t close with Youngjae yet, he had to admit that they made a very cute couple. He couldn’t say that he wasn’t slightly jealous of the way that Youngjae looked at her. 

Of course, being an openly bisexual high school girl hadn’t done anything to make her relationship easier. Mina had often confided in Jisung about her biggest struggles and insecurities around her sexuality, because not a lot of other people were as understanding. Jisung had tried his best to understand her problems, but until he was out of the closet, he couldn’t relate to the constant shit that Mina deals with on a daily basis. 

She had told Jisung everything from how cruel the kids at school were when she had gotten her first girlfriend in sophomore year, to how her father hadn’t spoken to her for two whole months after she came out. 

In the short span of time that Jisung had known Mina, she had quickly became an immense emotional support to him. He was able to be honest to her about things that he couldn’t even tell his best friends. And the fact that Mina felt comfortable enough to confide in him as well was an added bonus. 

Mina had picked him up from his house shortly after he received the text. 

Jisung threw himself into a booth at the corner of the small diner that occupied a lonely street corner just outside of their town. The coffee was shit there, but he appreciated the atmosphere. Without thinking, Jisung had gave the waitress their usual order.

“So,” Mina sat down across from Jisung, “long week?”

“Fucking horrible.” Jisung sighed. 

Mina gave him a dry sort of chuckle. “Don’t be such a baby, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

Everything was wrong. Mina didn’t understand how everything was wrong, because she isn’t in Jisung’s shoes. She doesn’t know about the weight of the unidentified guilt that was sinking Jisung’s stomach through the floor. 

Hyunjin was avoiding him, and it was obvious. Every time Hyunjin makes eye contact and looks away quickly, it feels like another stone thrown at Jisung’s gut. Every time Jisung wants to talk to Hyunjin after class, the latter boy always manages to be out the door before Jisung can shove his binder in his backpack. One of Jisung’s best and only friends is avoiding him and it hurt. 

“You’re wrong,” Jisung rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes, “I swear to god, nothing is going right.” 

“Nothing ever goes right.” Mina smiled as she fiddled with the napkin container in front of her, blunt nails tapping on the metal. 

Somehow, Mina managed to find a way to be the least helpful person ever, and yet also make Jisung feel a thousand times better when he’s upset. That isn’t exactly an easy line to walk. 

Jisung groaned in frustration as he hit his head on the table. The soft thud of his head hitting the wood mixed with the clattering sound of the silverware cut through what was a fairly quiet diner. 

“Jesus, stop that.” Mina shoved Jisung’s shoulder so he would sit upright. “You’re drawing attention.” She said. 

“I don’t care.” he mumbled. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked, “who spit in your coffee this morning?” 

Jisung wanted to say that life was spitting in his goddamn coffee, but he figured that would come across as too melodramatic. The truth is, Jisung’s spitting in his own coffee. There had to be a reason as to why Hyunjin was avoiding him like a fatal disease, and whatever that reason is, it is most likely Jisung’s own fault.

“Have you seen Hyunjin lately?” Jisung blew past her question, which was most likely sort of rhetorical anyways. 

Mina’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I mean yeah, I have chemistry with him, but why?”

Jisung thanked the sweet waitress again as she set the two hot drinks down in front of them, but he made no move to grab his cup. “His face... you saw it, right?” 

“Oh, you’re talking about the shiner?” She asked as she grabbed the mug closest to her, blowing on the bitter liquid inside. “yeah, what about it? Do you know what happened?”

“No,” Jisung dismissed. He absentmindedly stirred his own drink with a spoon, despite the fact that he didn’t add anything to it. “I was kind of wondering if you knew what happened?”

That was the thing about Mina. She didn’t have very many friends, yet somehow, Jisung found that she always seemed to know everyone’s business. Jisung never really questioned how she found out half of the things she knows, or how much of it was true. All he knew was that perhaps she might know something he doesn’t. 

“No, I haven’t heard anything I really believe. I mean I’ve heard some rumors, but I don’t really know the truth,” she answered, “doesn’t it seem like just a stupid boy fight?” 

Jisung knew it wasn’t that.

“No. I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Jisung took the first sip of his coffee, somehow forgetting about how gross it tasted in favor of the comforting heat, “it just doesn’t seem like him. Also, he’s avoiding me, so that’s great.” 

“Why’s he avoiding you?” Mina asked.

“I’ll tell you once I figure it out.”

“I don’t like this,” she stated, “you two are really close, what did you do?” 

“Nothing!” Jisung’s hands flew to comb through his hair. He was positive that he didn’t do anything that could have sparked Hyunjin to cut him off like this, yet Mina’s skeptical gaze wasn’t doing much to help him. 

“I don’t really believe you,” she said slowly, “why don’t you just talk to him?”

“He’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk to me.” The steam that was radiating off of Jisung’s coffee had faded entirely.

“Just text him,” Mina said nonchalantly. The setting sun was just starting to hide behind one of the distant buildings. 

Jisung suppressed a huff. “I’ve tried, but he hasn’t been answering.” The bright, orange glow of the setting sun cast a shining light across Mina’s face so strongly, that she had to squint to see Jisung, who’s back was turned to the window. 

“I can see if I can figure anything out about it, but I think you should talk to him. I thought you guys were so close.” 

“Yeah, I thought we were too.” Jisung sighed as he drank his coffee again.

“Don’t do that,” Mina said. She was talking in a calm tone, but her expression was scolding. “I’m sure that whatever it is, it’ll be solved quickly. You just have to start a conversation.”

“I’ll try and talk to him soon.” 

“That’s my boy. Now, I’m going to order some muffins, because I think that’s what you need right now.” Mina gave him a smile that Jisung couldn’t help but reciprocate. 

“Chocolate, please.”

----

“I know you’re throwing a party.”

“Jesus Christ, Chaeryeong!” Jisung grabbed at his chest while his heart rate spiked. He took a couple breaths and saw Chaeryeong give an amused smirk. “What are you talking about?” 

Wordlessly, Chaeryeong sat down in Jisung’s desk chair and faced him. Jisung could recognize the glimmer of mischief in her eyes, which could only mean that she has some type of leverage over him. 

“You know, the basketball party thing that Lee Minho wanted you to throw?” She explained, “I know that you’re doing it, and I want to help you. What’s your plan?” 

“I’m sorry, my plan?” Jisung sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous about Chaeryeong knowing about the party, because it could go one of two ways. Either she will expose his plans to their mother and get him grounded until he’s forty, or she’ll force him to let her go to it. Jisung didn’t know which one he disliked more. 

“When are you throwing it?” she asked casually. 

“That’s none of your business,” Jisung tried to shut her down, but she was smarter. 

“So you admit you’re throwing a party!” She exclaimed. 

Jisung was backed against a wall with this one. 

He let out a frustrated sound. “Fine, I’m throwing a party, but you have to keep it hushed, okay?” he pleaded. 

The slimy grin on Chaeryeong’s face was practically chilling to Jisung. He was still in the dog house for what happened the night of Bang Chan’s party, there is no way that Jisung’s mom would take this news lightly. 

“Why? What’s in it for me?” she said innocently. 

Jisung’s mattress made a squeaking noise as he flopped back onto it, groaning in frustration. “What do you want?” he asked. 

“I want to be there.” she admitted, and Jisung scoffed. 

“No,” he said simply, “you’re not going, you’re still a freshman. There will be seniors, and drinking, and other things that I don’t want you near.” 

“I’ve upset Mother Hen,” Chaeryeong giggled.

Jisung knew that Chaeryeong wasn’t a child, but he still didn’t want her to be exposed to half of the things that he saw at Bang Chan’s party. She was young and naive. 

“I promise you I’ll be fine. I’m smart, you know.” She moved from her seat at Jisung’s desk to the bed where he was still lying. 

“I know you’re smart, but other people are dumb.” Jisung sat upright. 

“You’ll be there, so I’m sure everything will be fine.” 

Jisung couldn’t help the fond smile that he tried to fight back. He knew that Chaeryeong was probably manipulating him, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect her. 

“You can come on one condition.” Chaeryeong beside him gave a victorious little jump on the bed at Jisung’s statement. “you be safe and come to me if you have any problems, okay? And you’re not allowed to drink.” 

Chaeryeong gave a little whine of annoyance. “Two drinks.” she argued. 

“One drink.” Jisung settled, and Chaeryeong contemplated before agreeing.

“You’re the best!” She giggled as she hugged him from the side. Jisung hugged her back. 

[sparklydreamies]

Stray Kids 8 Part Series ~ (3) Seo Changbin: He Laughed

Group: Stray Kids

Member: Seo Changbin

Genre: Light angst +hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4,000+

Summary: Don’t give power to merciless people behind a screen. 

Stray Kids 8 Part Series MASTERLIST

A/N: Hi guys!! Sorry it took me so long to post again, but I’m back, and hopefully I will be able to write more frequently! This story is centered around the changes in Changbin’s appearance and confidence from debut to now. I always feel bad writing members in pain, but this is the story I came up with lol,, I guess the moral of this story is that idols are people who have valid emotions and feelings, and we as fans don’t have the right to dismiss them and treat them like dolls. So on that note, thank you all for reading!!<33

All throughout his childhood, Seo Changbin had always been skinny. There was never much of a reason for his naturally slim stature other than genetics and a fast metabolism. It always seemed as though throughout his youth, he had never experienced the usual figure changes that a lot of his friends had gone through, whether it was the gain of muscle or fat. 

No matter how much food he ate, it never seemed to show on his body. There wasn’t a single part of his body that had excess fat covering the very visible bones. He could never grab a hold of any extra flesh on his body like some of his friends could.

As a teenager, he was always told that it was because he was a “growing boy”, and that he needed a lot of calories in order to grow big and strong. It wasn’t until he was in his early twenties that his stature began to change. He slowly became more muscular, thanks to his countless hours in the gym. Not only that, but he began to notice the faint gain of fat whenever he ate a lot without burning the calories. 

In a way, Changbin had always felt like he was blessed to be naturally slim. It was especially appreciated for someone in his line of work. Even after it became easier for him to gain fat, the company had never considered him “too heavy” for an idol. Muscle mass was a different story, however as time progressed, Changbin was able to build the perfect amount of muscle to satisfy the company as well as his fans. 

In short, Changbin had always liked his body. 

“Time’s up!” Doni called. “Put your markers down.”

Changbin didn’t put his marker down. Giggling like a small child, he avoided the attempts Jisung made at stealing the black marker from his hand, only stopping when the show host called him out on it. 

“Changbin’s naughty, he keeps cheating!” Coni laughed. 

This was what Changbin loved doing. Making a fool out of himself during variety shows, cheating during games with his members, and overall acting like a child whenever he could. 

“We should stop the show right here, Changbin ruined it for everyone.” Doni joked, and Changbin felt Jisung collapse on his back in a fit of laughter, nearly knocking them both off their stools and onto the ground. 

“Okay, let’s start with Felix! Show us your drawing,” Doni called, and Felix flipped the notebook he was holding in his hands around. 

The point of this segment was for the members to draw a portrait of how they perceive another member. 

The entire group as well as Doni, Coni, and a few of the staff members had burst out in laughter at the drawing Felix made of Jeongin. 

“Felix, you forgot eyebrows!” Jeongin whined from his spot. Changbin didn’t even notice the missing eyebrows; he was more focused on the teeth that were twice the size that they should have been. 

The segment continued on like that, and Changbin felt a swell of pride when the whole group laughed at his drawing of Minho, which looked so scrappy that a five year old could do better. Changbin was having fun.

It wasn’t until it was Jisung’s turn to share his drawing that his mood took a shift. 

“And this is my drawing of my lovely Changbinnie-hyung” Jisung giggled from his spot behind his muse. 

Changbin took in the piece of art before him. The hair was scraggly, the eyes were small, and the chin looked more like a “V” than a chin. 

Changbin laughed at the representation of himself. 

“Oh the chin! The chin!” Coni laughed as he made the shape of a “V” with his hands to mock the drawing. Changbin laughed. 

“That is the most accurate drawing so far!” Doni commented as he forcefully took Changbin’s face and traced the edges of his chin with his fingers. “Wow, Han is an artist!” Doni cracked as he high-fived Jisung. Changbin laughed. 

“He captured Changbin’s face so cleverly!” Coni praised, sitting back down on his stool. Changbin faked annoyance at the hosts and at his band mate. And then, he laughed once again. 

His brothers were practically howling at the scene, their voices creating a cacophony of sound ringing in Changbin’s ears. He was happy. He was laughing. So why did it feel as though his stomach was falling through the floor?

For the first time that day, Changbin had to forcefully plaster a smile on his face. He felt the bubbling feeling of embarrassment in his chest for the rest of the filming. 

A little while back, Han Jisung had been given a nickname by his fans. Less than a nickname, it was more of a cute comparison. His cheeks had always been unusually large and soft. Whenever he would eat, he would store food inside of them, making them more accentuated than they were before. It was because of this that fans had begun calling Jisung a squirrel. 

Jisung liked the connection. Contrary to how he presents himself, he had often struggled with accepting and liking his cheeks. He didn’t like the way they made him look younger and more boyish. He wanted to be perceived in a more mature and manly way. 

That was why when fans began to compliment and praise his chubby cheeks, it helped him become more confident in his face. 

Changbin had seen the improvement of Jisung’s spirit. Praise for Jisung’s cheeks from fans had helped him improve his self image a lot, and for that, Changbin’s love for his fans had only grown.

He only wished that he could experience the same reactions to his insecurities. 

Changbin wouldn’t consider himself jealous of Jisung’s full cheeks and round face. It was stupid to compare oneself to another person based off of superficial things like looks, however it didn’t stop Changbin from appreciating the younger boy’s unique features. 

The show aired on it’s planned date with no faults. Changbin watched the program on television, and was fairly proud of the results of the editing process. He had hoped that STAYs would enjoy the hour-long show.

After a few hours, Changbin opened Twitter so that he could get a sense of how his fans appreciated the show. Skimming through fans’ tweets, he noticed a few that stood out to him. 

Most of the comments were about Felix and Jisung’s aegyo, or Hyunjin’s random dance challenge. The deeper he scrolled, the more tweets he found about him. 

Normally, having a lot of tweets aimed at him would be an honour to Changbin. It usually meant that he was charismatic and funny enough to gain fans’ attention. That was why he didn’t understand the embarrassing feeling that came along with the jokes about his face structure. 

That’s all that they were. Jokes. People liked to joke about his chin, so why should he worry? Why did he feel shameful? 

Changbin’s stomach continued to drop with every comment he read about his face. Every time he saw that drawing of him, it was like another pin stabbing his chest. 

That night at dinner, everyone was talking about the show. The members were talking about the comments that they received, the fans reactions, and how they thought it was a really successful show. 

At one point during the meal, Jisung had shoved Changbin in the shoulder and laughed about the drawing that he made and how funny the fans thought it was. Changbin laughed. 

Changbin had always been able to hide his feelings well. Especially as an idol, hiding hardships is mandatory. Changbin was good at laughing. It was a sure fire way to make everybody think that you’re happy, when on the inside, it feels like you’ve swallowed a thousand bees. 

So that night, he laughed. He subjected himself to be the clown, even though it hurt him. Nobody needed to know about how he let his tears fall onto his pillow while they all slept. 

Changbin had thought about how he was working so hard to remain slim and skinny, and how if he were to gain just a little more weight, he could possibly make himself softer and cuter, like his brother Jisung. 

He figured that it was worth a try. Sure he might have to fight the company tooth and nail to gain the weight that he wants, but it was worth it. It was worth it to change how he looked. It was worth it to satisfy his fans. 

For the next few weeks, Changbin had let himself gain weight. He ate more and stopped trying so hard to burn it all off. He still worked out enough to remain healthy, and he was still trying to gain muscle, but whenever he stepped on the scale and saw that he was a pound or two heavier than he had previously been, he felt his heart swell. 

It was an odd thing to want to gain weight. Most idols would kill to be as skinny as Changbin had been, yet here Changbin was, trying to gain weight for the purpose of chubbier cheeks and softer edges. 

Eventually, it began to work. Changbin began to wake up in the morning to see that his face was rounder, fuller, and cuter than it had been before. The whole thing made him elated. 

It had gotten to the point where he was satisfied with his outer appearance. His chin was much less prominent. A less prominent chin meant that there was less for people to make their jokes out of. 

“Hannie, stop!” Chan shrieked just as Jisung smeared a fat glob of vanilla frosting on his cheek. 

All of the members were crowded in their living room, celebrating Bang Chan’s birthday with their fans. The energy level in the room was ecstatic. Some members were getting cake violently rubbed into their skin while others were trying to read comments and make the VLive as normal as possible. 

Changbin was in the middle of answering a question when he felt a tap on his shoulder from behind where he was sitting on the ground in front of the coffee table. Before he thought better of it, his head was turning and he was met with a face full of frosting from Minho. 

“Hey! Minho, get back here!” Changbin screamed, getting up to chase the nuisance around the room. 

Laughter filled the room and lit up Changbin’s heart. He thought that nothing could destroy his mood.

It wasn’t until the next day that Changbin had checked Twitter again. 

He scrolled through a lot of happy birthday wishes for Chan, which made him smile. He read a few of the messages, and saved the ones that he wanted to show to Chan. 

And then, he got to some posts about the live. Most of them were sweet and nice, there were some clips of various parts of the live including the moment that Changbin got his face full of cake. As he scrolled for longer and longer, he got to some comments that were less light-hearted. 

They didn’t like the weight he gained. Of course he noticed the comments from fans who had thought he looked healthier and happier, but no matter how many positive comments he saw, the posts from people calling him fat and saying that he was “letting himself go” were far stronger. The people calling him a pig and a fatass and ugly were too loud. 

Changbin didn’t understand. After everything he did to satisfy the fans, they still made negative comments about him. He once was too skinny, now he is too fat.

He knew that he shouldn’t listen to people who didn’t show their faces, yet to know that people were confidently calling him degrading names stung him deeply. He felt a hopeless feeling bloom inside of him, and it drove him mad. 

Changbin felt the first tear slip down the side of his face as the feeling of his chest collapsing took him over. His phone was thrown across his bedroom, the sound of a screen shattering as it hit the floor being the only identifiable noise in the room. 

He wanted to scream. There was no pleasing them. He hated himself. He hated the way that he looked. He hated himself when he was skinny, and he was beginning to hate himself now that he gained weight. But mostly, he hated the way that he was reacting.

This was the job, wasn’t it? None of this should be surprising to him. He had known about the malicious comments aimed at the other members for various reasons, so why was this so frustrating for him? 

Changbin fisted his hair to ground himself. He tried to count his breaths in his head, but all he heard was the comments ringing around in his ears. 

...He got fat...

...Has he stopped working out?...

Fucking breathe.

...He’s turning into a pig...

...Changbin’s face is so fat...

Letting out his first scream of frustration, Changbin shot up from his bed. If the fans wanted him to be skinnier, then fine. He would get skinnier. 

This was for the good of his career. Nobody liked an ugly idol, and if he is more attractive with a slim stature and a pointy chin, then he would work to achieve it. If he gained the weight, surely he could lose it again. 

The room was small, and it felt like it was getting smaller. 

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he threw open his bedroom door. Changbin grabbed his running shoes from the rack by the entrance, slipped them on, and took off from the dorm that felt like it was suffocating him. 

The night air was refreshing against Changbin’s burning skin as he sprinted down the street. Ten o’clock at night couldn’t be considered too late to go for a run, especially when the moon was shining so beautifully in the otherwise pitch-black sky. 

Changbin didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t care. His lungs and legs were burning with the unexpected extortion. The sweatpants and t-shirt he was wearing didn’t make for good running clothes, but that didn’t matter to him. 

For a minute, he felt okay. He could even say that he felt good. For a minute, he had forgotten all about the fans and their vendetta against his happiness.

The wind had dried the tears off of his cheeks, and he just became another faceless person in the dark. Changbin didn’t think of himself as an idol, but rather a person who’s tight chest was slowly beginning to take in enough oxygen for his head to stop pounding. 

He didn’t know how long he ran for that night. His mind had cleared completely of thoughts, and he wore himself out. He didn’t even notice the warning signs of exhaustion before he was throwing up in a patch of shrubs. 

Slowly coming back to reality, Changbin realized he needed to get home. He wasn’t too far from the dorms, so once he gathered some strength back, he began walking. 

It was hard to tell how long it took him before he was trudging up the stairs and letting himself through the front door. He tried to be as quiet as possible.

The clock on the stove read 12:24. Changbin knew that if any of the members had realized he was gone, that he would be in a world of trouble. 

He took his running shoes off at the door and made his way to his and Felix’s room, expecting to see the younger boy playing video games or getting ready for bed. What he was not expecting was to see Felix sitting on Changbin’s own bed, frowning at the phone in his hands. 

Felix’s eyes darted up like a meerkat, relief flooding his features when Changbin entered the room.

“Where the fuck have you been!” Felix sighed, jumping up from the bed to pull the older boy into a hug, “I came out of the shower to see you were gone, you weren’t answering your damn phone, I was fucking worried you asshole!” 

Changbin repressed a smile as he pushed Felix away. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

Felix scanned Changbin, his eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. “Did you go for a run?” 

“Yeah,” Changbin answered.

“In... your sweats?” Felix fingered at the pockets of Changbin’s sweatpants, and the older boy swatted his fingers away. 

Changbin nodded and flopped down onto his bed. 

“Why didn’t you take your phone with you? I’ve been trying to call you,” Felix ran a hand through his hair, “Fucking hell,” he sighed. 

“I don’t know, Lixie.” As soon as Changbin’s head hit the pillows beneath him, he felt the exhaustion from his midnight run catch up to him. “You should watch your language, by the way.” he mumbled, cracking a small grin. 

“Changbin, seriously,” Felix climbed up beside him, “You’re fucking lucky! I was two seconds away from telling Chan, I swear to god.” 

Changbin looked up and saw the lines of genuine concern stretch across the boy’s face.

Felix had always been a caring person. He was always dependable, and he was really a true friend. It didn’t matter if Changbin was older, because he knew that Felix would always be there to protect him. 

Wordlessly, Changbin grabbed Felix by the arm and pulled him to lay down beside him. A fond smile graced his face. 

“Thank you for worrying,” Changbin whispered, “but I’m fine.”

Felix sighed. There was a beat of silence where Felix closed his eyes, and Changbin had started to think he fell asleep. But then, “Are you okay?” 

Changbin was stunned and confused for a second. “Yeah... why?” 

“You don’t usually go for runs. Especially not late at night.” Felix whispered. 

Changbin snaked an arm around Felix’s torso. “I was just having a bad day.” 

Felix was fidgeting slightly. It looked like he was fighting some sort of internal battle about whether or not he should say what he wanted to say. 

Changbin smiled at the nervousness. “What?” he encouraged. 

Felix’s gaze caught Changbin’s eyes. “Was it the comments? About your weight gain?” he asked in a small voice. 

Silence. There was no sound coming from anywhere in the dorm as Changbin processed the question. The smile that rested on his face immediately slipped away. 

“I... I saw them on Twitter, and they pissed me off, so...” Felix trailed off, lowering his gaze, “I mean you haven’t even gained that much...”

“I gained the weight on purpose,” Changbin said when he zoned back in on Felix.

“Oh...” Felix’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Why? I mean, not that you don’t look good, but like... Why did you want to gain weight?” 

Changbin thought about why he wanted to gain weight. He thought about Jisung’s drawing, the “V” face comments, the constant embarrassment around his appearance, and his own insecurities. 

“It’s stupid.” Changbin dismissed, but of course, Felix kept digging. 

“It’s not stupid. It’s just me, you can tell me.” he eased. 

Changbin sighed. “You know... how people had been making jokes about my face? And my chin?” 

Felix nodded, confusion showing again. 

“I hated those comments.” he whispered. “I just got so insecure about my looks after people began to make those jokes, and I just... wanted to fix them.”

When Changbin looked at Felix, he saw that the confusion was still etched onto his features. “But...” Felix started, “you always laugh at those jokes.” 

Changbin felt like shit for unloading this onto Felix, yet he continued to explain. “I’m good at laughing.” 

The boys sat in silence for another minute. Felix seemed to be mulling over what he had been told, and Changbin watched the look of confusion melt into one of realization, and then sadness. 

“I’m so sorry,” Felix breathed, “I... I didn’t know you felt like that. I would have never made those jokes.”

Changbin felt his heart crack. Felix almost sounded heartbroken, and it killed Changbin inside. 

“But hyung...” Felix said, “you know that you don’t have to fix anything, right? You’re perfect. Don’t let them get to you.” 

Teardrops were threatening to fall from Changbin’s eyes for the second time that night, except instead of being born out of pain, these tears were brought on by the overwhelming feeling of being loved. 

“Okay...” was all Changbin could muster the strength to whisper. He didn’t trust his voice, so instead, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his best friend’s forehead. 

“You know what, hyung?” 

Changbin hummed.

“I have dealt with so much hate because of so many things,” Felix sniffled away his own tears, “first they were upset because I wasn’t fluent in Korean, then they didn’t like my freckles, then it was my voice, and I thought that there was just no winning with them.” Felix closed his eyes. 

Changbin didn’t even think about that. If any member was no stranger to criticism from online fans, it would be Felix. 

The thought was crazy to Changbin. Why would anybody go out of their way to hurt somebody as sweet and perfect as Felix? The thought of somebody actually hating Felix for his mess of pretty freckles still amazed Changbin. 

“But you know what I realized?” Felix continued, snapping Changbin out of his own thoughts, “It’s not my job to please everyone.” 

“What do you mean, Lixie?” Changbin asked. 

Felix opened his eyes again, “Like... I’m doing music for me, right? If people don’t like the way that I look or who I am, then that’s their problem, not mine. Get it?” 

Changbin was amazed. 

“How are you so young and yet more wise than half of the industry?” Changbin saw the light in Felix’s eyes, and it made him smile, too.

“I mean it still hurts sometimes, but... less now.”

Changbin agreed. He couldn’t see how reading vicious comments like that could ever end up getting easier. 

“But now that I know you get comments and stuff that hurt you too, maybe we could... help each other. When it hurts a lot, you know?” 

“Like you mean... I come to you when it hurts, and you come to me?” Changbin asked. It made him feel special to know that Felix trusted him enough to want to go to him for comfort. It made him feel like he wasn’t the only one that got happiness out of their relationship. 

“Yeah, something like that,” he answered. 

Changbin’s smile returned full force. 

Felix was like sunshine, Changbin thought. This issue that seemed so horrible and painful to Changbin, now seems less than half as terrible since Felix was there for him. Since now, Felix was there to comfort him. 

He didn’t care if it made him weak or less of a man, because he didn’t feel like he had to be strong when he was with Felix. Felix had always been comfortable in his emotions, and Changbin admired that about him. 

“If you’re happy with the way that you look right now, you should keep it this way,” Felix encouraged him, “because for the record, I think you look better like this. You look happier.” 

“I am happier,” Changbin whispered. 

Shortly after that, the two boys fell asleep in Changbin’s bed, happy to have the support of their best friend. 

Although it was hard at first, Changbin slowly became more confident in himself and his appearance to not care about how other people wanted him to look. Even when he slipped up, Felix always caught him with a hug, a smile, and a shoulder for him to rest his head. 

For a while, Changbin had to fake his happiness during videos and variety shows. No matter how much he repressed it, the worry of how his fans would react to his appearance was always dangling in the back of his mind like an itch that he couldn’t scratch. 

But it got better. Changbin found himself worrying less and less about what his fans thought, and more about what he thought. Over time, he didn’t have to fake his happiness. The fans had even noticed how Changbin’s growing confidence affected him.

And perhaps best of all, eventually began to laugh again. It wasn’t a fake laugh, or a laugh to cover his shame. It was a real laugh that honestly held his real happiness. And unlike how he laughed before, this laugh was the product of his self confidence and strength. No laugh could ever be brighter or fuller than his. 

[sparklydreamies]

Hi guys! I just wanted to let you all know that over the next few weeks, I will unfortunately be too busy to write regularly. The next fics I plan on releasing is the next chapter of Best Shot, as well at Seo Changbin’s angst story. The two of them will most likely be posted within the next month or so. Thank you all for supporting my work, and I hope to permanently be back soon!💛💛

[sparklydreamies]

Stray Kids 8 Part Series ~ (2) Lee Minho: Pride is Sinful

Group: Stray Kids

Member: Lee Minho

Genre: Light angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5,300+

Summary: Accepting help from his younger brothers is hard for Minho, but it may be necessary in the case of an injury. 

Stray Kids 8 Part Series MASTERLIST

A/n: Hi guys!! This story was kind of inspired by Minho during Stray Kids’ survival show days, and the times when he said he shouldn’t need their help since he was older ;-; It kind of gave me the idea to create a story where Minho begins feeling prideful, but ultimately realizes that he can lean on others as well! Also, LEE MINHO IS MY BIAS AND I FEEL SO BAD WRITING ABOUT HIM LIKE THIS :( 

“You have to make sure that your legs and back are straight when you land.”

Lee Minho is a dancer. Nothing in his life gave him the beautiful, euphoric feeling that he got when he moved effortlessly around the stage. Nothing was as satisfying as the feeling of the air hitting the thin layer of sweat on his face. Nothing felt more right than the feeling of his heart pounding and blood rushing through his body. 

Even as a child, Minho had never thought of himself as extraordinary in any way. Compared to his friends who were undeniably smart, funny, or good-looking, Minho had always thought he was rather average. Never nearly as good as others, let alone better. 

He was always told it was better that he thought that way. Pride was sinful, and according to his parents, an ugly trait for a young boy to have. They would tell him that being too prideful meant being arrogant and cocky. 

Maybe that was the reason he couldn’t take compliments without denying them. Never accepting any sort of praise without belittling himself. Maybe it was also the reason he was such a damn perfectionist. He never felt like he was good enough to be comfortable. 

That was, until he began dancing. 

To Minho, dancing wasn’t just his hobby. It was his lifestyle. He ate, slept and breathed dance. When he fell, he got back up. In some respect, the only time that Minho felt vaguely better than people was when he was dancing. 

It wasn’t wrong of him to want to be the best at something. This was what he was passionate about, which meant there should be no harm in wanting to improve and be special. Pride may be a sin, but ambition is the key to success. And what is ambition without acknowledgment of how far you have come and how hard you have worked? If anything, his ambition was only helping the team.

And for a while, his determination was doing nothing but pushing him to be the best he could be. That was, until it pushed him too far. 

Choreography practice had ended a few hours ago, and yet Minho told himself he was going to run through the routine a few more times. A few more times, and then he would leave. 

Minho had been exhausting every kink out of the choreography for days straight. As Minho watched the way his body contorted awkwardly in front of the mirror, he began to worry about his progress. 

Earlier that day, he had watched how Hyunjin led the team through a full practice effortlessly, the years of dancing skills shining through with the way that his body became fluid, accenting the music perfectly and hitting every beat. It was quite mesmerizing to watch. However when Minho saw himself attempt at the same routine of twists and steps, he found it was much different. 

It shouldn’t bother him that Hyunjin was catching on faster than he was; Hyunjin was the team’s dance leader after all. Of course he was going to be the best off the bat. 

But Minho was the oldest dancer in the team. He knew that it was immature and futile to feel resentment towards the other members who are working hard on their own, but his pride and ambition seemed to get the better of him. 

During the day’s practice, Hyunjin had spent his precious time teaching Minho how to safely practice the killing part in the song, which was a jump-slash-spin type move that Minho was having trouble grasping. 

The younger man had done nothing but show Minho how to practice it so that the team could benefit, however as much as Minho’s mind denied it, it felt so condescending. Minho could handle himself, why was Hyunjin acting like the hyung? Why was he acting like he was better than Minho? Hyunjin was already the visual of the group, why did he have to be the best at dancing too?

Minho had always thought that dancing was his thing. The thing that made him special. It wasn’t wrong to want to be the best. It wasn’t wrong to want to succeed. It wasn’t wrong to feel jealous. 

Minho grunted in frustration as he counted his steps again, using his emotions to push himself harder, promising himself that he would show Hyunjin how he can handle his own problems. 

The music was pounding Minho’s eardrums at a sonic volume, almost mocking how he was unable to monitor the beats well enough. The sound alone was enough to drive him mad. 

Countless tries after countless tries, Minho launched himself into the air, twisting his body and snapping his joints in seemingly the same way that he remembered Hyunjin showing him. Yet, as he carefully watched his body in the mirror, it was still too awkward and stiff. The muscles in his thighs were in excruciating pain as he willed himself to jump again and again, repeating the same mistakes. 

Why was he even a dancer? Hyunjin was a more fluid and swift dancer, Felix was more charismatic and memorable, but what was Minho? Every day that he spent exhausting himself just trying to keep up with the others was another day where he felt unworthy of his career. 

It should not be this hard to be mediocre. 

And anyways, it wasn’t as if Minho could ask anybody for help. As soon as he asks for help in the field that he was supposed to be good in, people will start questioning his abilities. Maybe the boys would spare him the judgement because he is their friend, but how could he be sure? He was supposed to be the oldest dancer that helps the younger boys learn and grow, and yet here he is, practicing the same move over and over again for hours on end. 

If anything, Minho’s moves were only deteriorating in quality as time went on. His movements were sloppier and less precise. He wasn’t paying attention to anything that Hyunjin had told him earlier. His mind kept drifting away from the task at hand, which was practically automatic at this point. Minho wasn’t focusing on his footwork and where his weight was placed. His head was pounding and he felt hot all over his body, yet he couldn’t tell if it was from the hours of dancing or the frustration. He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out, or his skin off, or scream at the top of his lungs, but he just kept jumping and twirling and twisting and leaping and spinning until he found himself falling towards the ground. 

Minho let out a loud yelp as his hands shot out to try and break his fall as best as they could. Shooting pain spiked up the bone in his forearms as he let himself fall slack on the cool studio floor.

Panic had set into Minho’s mind as he had heard it before the adrenaline in his brain had let him feel it. The sickening pop sound that had come from landing on his left ankle at a weird position. 

Minho sat up frantically and suddenly felt the god awful pain in his foot. He cried out a little bit when he tried to move it a little bit. 

Of course he had to fuck up his ankle. 

Without touching his foot, Minho worked to untie his shoelaces and stretch his sneaker out as wide as he could so he could inspect his injury. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he could already feel the muscle begin to swell. 

Minho took a deep breath and whimpered a little bit as he slowly inched his sneaker off of his injured foot, wincing at the tenderness of the ankle. 

He sighed in relief as the sneaker slid off of his foot, and he rolled his pant leg up. Minho was relieved when he saw that the visual damage was minuscule, only resulting in a bit of swelling and slight bruising. Minho’s trembling fingers moved to press down on the skin lightly, gasping at the explosion of pain. 

Timidly, Minho shifted to stand on his injured foot. His overworked muscles were trembling as he faintly transferred his weight from his right foot to his left. There was no pain for the first second, but as he slowly pressed on the tender foot, a shooting pain flared up his leg. 

Minho cried out in frustration as he sat himself back down to the ground, burying his face into his hands. Hot, unwanted tears began to escape his eyes and wet the skin of his palms. 

There was no reason for him to cry, so why was he still sniveling like a child? Minho sniffled a few times before wiping his tears onto the back of his hand. 

The clock suspended high up on the studio’s wall read 10:47. Minho swore to himself when he remembered he promised Chan to be home before 10:30. 

Minho took a shaky breath as he stretched the discarded sneaker out as much as he could, already wincing at the thought of restricting his aching foot in it. 

By the sickening mess of raw, swollen flesh that rested at the bottom of his leg, Minho figured that the injury was a sprain. Sprained limbs are not uncommon for dancers, but they could be dangerous. 

It was about 11:00 in the evening when Minho hobbled into the dorm, fully expecting the scolding he was about to endure from Chan. Surprisingly, the space seemed fairly quiet, save for the faint sounds of video games coming from Felix and Hyunjin’s shared room. The dorm still smelled like whatever Changbin had brought for supper, which seemingly lured Minho right into the kitchen. 

Minho heated up some of the take out that was left in the fridge for him, sighing as he found himself an ice pack for his ankle. 

He ate with his leg propped up on another chair, covered with ice. Although it felt uncomfortable, it also felt oddly nice. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Chan slurred as he stumbled into the kitchen. 

Minho moved his leg from the chair to underneath the table. His ice pack fell onto the floor with a soft thud, but Chan seemed to not notice it. This must have been some sort of reflex; almost like Minho’s mind rejected the idea of anybody knowing about his injury. Especially not their leader, who had an abundance of other problems and issues that he has to deal with. 

“I was practicing and lost track of time, I’m sorry.” Minho explained, returning his attention to the noodles that were starting to cool off in his bowl. Chan sighed and sat down at the table. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Chan said, “I was starting to get a little bit worried.”

Minho scoffed at the older boy. “You know I can take care of myself, you don’t have to worry.” 

Minho saw Chan smile tiredly behind his fingers. It wasn’t until Chan looked up that Minho saw the dark bags underneath the other’s eyes. Chan had lines of worry stretched across his forehead, his hair was messy and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while, and his eyes looked exhausted. 

Minho knew about Chan’s habit of putting the team’s success above his own health, and he knew about how dangerous it could be. Judging by the rough looking pile of a leader sitting across from him, he could guess that Chan hadn’t slept in a while.

“You look like a sick old man,” Minho cautiously jokes, leaning across the table to push on Chan’s shoulders. Minho winced slightly as he put some more pressure on his ankle. Luckily, the tired leader didn’t notice a thing. “You should go to sleep,”

“I can sleep when I’m dead,” Chan said, cracking a wide smile at the younger. 

Minho giggled at him. “With the way you look right now, that day will come sooner than you thought.”

Chan gave an amused huff towards Minho. He rubbed his dark eyes, and leaned forward in his seat, resting his head on his hands. “I thought you knew me, Minho,” he said with a small chuckle. 

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t overwork yourself,” Minho retorted, eating some of the noodles Changbin bought, “you look like a zombie.” 

“Changbin and I spent all last night in the studio,” Chan yawned, “I had to pull him home because he passed out at the desk,” 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Minho said. 

“By the way,” Chan shifted in his seat, “how is the choreo coming? I noticed you were having some difficulty today,”

Minho felt a weight crash on him. Chan was giving up his sleep and sanity to help the team, and Minho isn’t even able to keep up his own workload without breaking himself. 

“Uhm,” he started, shifting his gaze back down to his noodles to look unbothered, “it’s coming along. I’ve almost got it down, I think,”

“Just take care of yourself too, okay?” Chan asked, his aura becoming a little bit more serious, “we can’t have you injured right before a comeback,”

That was it. Minho felt his anxiety build at that one sentence. If Chan only knew the irony of that statement. There was literally an ice pack beneath the table to soothe an injury that might prevent Minho from making any progress with his improvements, and yet Chan didn’t know a thing. 

Minho played his dread off with a little chuckle. It felt too awkward, and he was sure that the leader knew something was up. Yet, being the tired and clueless boy that he was, Chan didn’t notice anything. 

“Well it’s kind of late, and I can barely keep my eyes focused anymore,” Chan stated, getting up from his seat, “I’m going to go to bed. Make sure you get some sleep soon, okay?”

Minho hummed a yes before Chan bid another goodnight, leaving Minho to finish his food and shower before heading to bed. 

What was he going to do? The logical thing would be to tell Chan or a manager or someone that he accidentally hurt himself, but he was too damn prideful. It would be embarrassing to admit to Hyunjin that he ignored the advice he gave him, or to let Chan down by taking a break to heal his foot. He didn’t want his company, members, or fans to think that he was fragile or weak.

If it was any other member, Minho wouldn’t hesitate to suggest time off for healing, but he couldn’t admit to needing the same thing. 

The next day, Minho woke up feeling even more soreness in his ankle than he had before. He was sure that it was a sprain, which conflicted him. He didn’t know if he should tell somebody and risk giving up practice and work until it healed. Then again, if he didn’t say anything, he risked causing an even worse injury. 

Minho made his way to the kitchen, trying to walk as normally as possible with the aching feeling spreading up his leg. If he could make it to the kitchen and snag some painkillers without anybody noticing, he might be able to soothe the pain enough to make it through the day. 

Without anybody in the kitchen, Minho limped over to the cabinet above the coffee machine, where the boys kept all of their medicine and bandages. For good measure, he pocketed the bottle just in case he felt more pain later. 

“G’morning,” Felix grunted, stumbling into the kitchen towards the coffee pot. 

“Morning, Lix.” Minho ruffled the kid’s messy bed-head before looking for something to eat. “Did you sleep well?” 

Felix gave a small nod as he poured himself a cup of completely black coffee. Felix looked very tired; Minho assumed it was probably from playing video games all night like usual. 

“You should take better care of your health, Lix.” Minho said. “Spending eight hours playing computer games is bad for your brain.” Minho sat down at the kitchen table with a granola bar in his hand. 

Felix chuckled and sat down too, “Maybe for you, but I’ve adapted myself to spending hours online.” 

Before Minho could scold him any more, he was interrupted by Hyunjin yawning as he walked through the door. He was dressed in his usual workout clothes, which surprised Minho, since they didn’t have choreography practice again until the next day. 

“Good morning,” Hyunjin said, seating himself down beside Felix.

“Morning,” Minho said, “are you going to the gym today?” 

Hyunjin shook his head. “I was thinking maybe we could go work on your move? You and I? Chan told me you didn’t get home until late last night.” 

Minho felt the anxiety build in his chest. How could he say no to practice? He knows that he isn’t that good and therefore shouldn’t pass up an opportunity to improve. But on the other hand, Hyunjin had taught him how to be safe while training, and he ignored the advice. He could barely walk on his ankle properly; Hyunjin would know something was up immediately. 

“Also Felix, you have to cool it with the games, you kept me up all night with those stupid little gunshot noises.” Hyunjin complained. “So we’ll leave in twenty?” 

Maybe it was a reflex or an instinct, or maybe Minho was just used to agreeing to practice time when offered, but before he had the chance to figure out a way out of it, the older boy was agreeing to working one-on-one with Hyunjin on their day off from practice. 

A while back, Jisung had twisted his ankle badly. He was out running, and hit a crack in the pavement. It wasn’t that bad of an injury, but for good measure, he had bought himself some support socks. 

Minho excused himself away from the table, trying to walk as naturally as possible, yet feeling what felt like the eyes of a hundred people burned into the back of his head. 

Minho sifted through Jisung’s sock drawer before finally pulling out the black and silver support socks from the very back, where they had been discarded and forgotten about ever since Jisung healed from the incident. 

Wincing, he carefully pulled the stiff fabric over his foot, almost letting a noise out when it moved his ankle. Once he stood up from the bed he was perched on, he took a few test strides. He was surprised at the way that the expensive fiber backed up his muscle. 

Minho quickly changed into some fresh workout clothes, and met Hyunjin by the door. 

“Ready?” Hyunjin asked, already opening the door. 

Minho hummed a yes and followed the boy out. The two of them made their way out of the dorms and down the street towards the studio. Minho was trying to distract himself with the uncomfortable pressure on his injured foot, and contemplated telling Hyunjin about it. Yet, as they walked, he began to worry again about his progress. Isn’t it natural for an idol to push through injuries for their careers? 

“So how did practicing it on your own feel yesterday?” Hyunjin asked as they walked, Minho trying his best to look as normal as he could, thanking god that he had the socks to help. 

“Uh,” he started, “it wasn’t bad, I think I’m improving,” 

Out of the corner of Minho’s eyes, he saw Hyunjin smile. It seemed unlike a smile of amusement, but more like a smile of fondness. 

“You improve everyday, Minho.” Hyunjin said, “You’re a hard worker. I know you’re going to get it,” 

Minho scoffed at Hyunjin before he could register it and stop himself. Hyunjin bumped his shoulders as they walked. Minho winced at the pain that sprouted from his foot, but kept moving nonetheless. 

“Don’t make that noise, you’re doing fine,” Hyunjin assured. Minho hated the way that he wanted so desperately to argue with Hyunjin because he can’t take compliments well. “It seems tough because you’re not getting it right away, but that’s what I’m helping you for,” the younger boy smiled brightly as they walked.

Minho was so happy knowing that he has a team of brothers that are willing to help him whenever he needs it. As much as he knew that he was lucky to have Hyunjin, he still felt that heavy pang of unnecessary jealousy. His mind was screaming at him to resent Hyunjin for making him feel inferior. 

“Thanks,” Minho said rather quietly, wanting to change the subject or end the conversation quickly before he felt even more awkward. 

“Ah don’t be like that,” Hyunjin sighed as he opened the company door for Minho. Minho made a confused noise as he passed the younger. “Just accept my help.”

Even though Hyunjin’s words made him sound upset, he was still speaking in a rather calm and light-hearted voice. It made Minho undeniably angry. 

“I am accepting your help, that’s why I’m here,” Minho countered, “let’s just practice, okay?” Minho was walking slightly ahead of Hyunjin on their way to the dance studios, when he stumbled slightly. He must have put pressure on a weird part of his ankle, because he felt a new wave of soreness in his bone. 

“Hold on, are you limping?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Hyunjin instinctively grabbed onto the older’s arm, trying to help him regain his balance. 

Minho shook Hyunjin’s hand off of him, trying to play it off as easily as possible. “I just stepped on something,” he said, but Hyunjin was not easily fooled. 

“No it wasn’t that. You’re walking weird, Minho. Come over here,” Hyunjin gestured, leading Minho towards the practice room. 

“I swear I’m okay,” Minho awkwardly laughed. The dread of his ignorant mistake set into his chest when he realized he was found out. Hyunjin wasn’t an easy member to fool about anything. 

Hyunjin was staring at Minho with hawk-like eyes. “There’s something wrong and you’re not telling me,”

Minho avoided Hyunjin’s gaze by moving towards the bench at the side of the room, where he normally changed into his workout shoes. “I already said it’s nothing,” he sighed. He started taking the shoe off of his uninjured foot, feeling a little bit nervous to take his left one off in front of Hyunjin. 

Even after Minho thought he ended the conversation, Hyunjin still stared at him skeptically. Hyunjin knew that something was up, and Minho couldn’t hide his foolishness from him any more than he already has. 

Mentally groaning, Minho reached down to his left ankle, and untied the laces. Hyunjin sat down at the bench directly beside Minho so that he could change his shoes as well. Minho stretched the shoe out as much as he could to avoid the pulling motion on his sensitive flesh. He could not hide the way that his face contorted ever so slightly from the discomfort. 

“Mhm,” Hyunjin hummed. “Let’s take a couple laps around the room to warm up, okay?” he suggested, practically springing out from his seat, light feet bouncing him with ease. 

By now, it was a game of cat and mouse. Hyunjin was the cat trying so desperately to catch Minho, who was trying to escape the other’s claws. Hyunjin already knew what was up, yet of course, he wanted to force Minho to confess. 

Minho huffed as he rose himself from his seat, trying to give Hyunjin nothing to worry about. “You want to run?” he asked, walking away from Hyunjin, “Fine.” he said. Minho took off in a light jog down the side of the practice room. He was cringing with the amount of stress it put on his leg, yet he focused himself on remaining stone-faced. Damn all of these mirrors. 

Behind him, he heard Hyunjin take off in a jog as well, catching up to Minho fairly quickly. 

“I say we should do this every time we practice, don’t you think so, Minho?” Hyunjin teased. It made a pang of anger burst in Minho’s head.

Minho kept running and running, trying to keep up with Hyunjin’s slightly increasing pace, putting one foot in front of the other over and over and over again, until--

“Fuck!” Minho yelped after he landed himself weirdly on his left ankle. He fell to the floor with a thud, and clutched his leg to his chest. The pain of the fall mixed with the embarrassment of Hyunjin’s gaze made him so frustrated that he let out a growl like noise. 

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” Hyunjin asked, crouching so that he could examine Minho. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and full of worry. 

Minho groaned out a “Yeah,” as he moved his trembling fingers to untie his shoelaces. Stretching the material once again, he slipped it off of his foot, wincing at the pull. 

“No you’re not, oh my god,” Hyunjin’s hands were fidgeting. He wasn’t quite sure what he should do to help Minho. He watched as Minho rolled up his pant leg, exposing a ball of swollen and bruised flesh. “Is it sprained?” he asked, reaching his arm out before pulling it back, not wanting to touch what he figured was a very tender and painful limb. 

“What the fuck does it look like?” Minho growled. The hostility in his voice took Hyunjin aback. 

“Well c’mon, we’ll call someone and get it checked out,” 

“No,” Minho ran his fingers through his hair as he felt the frustration bubble in his chest. 

“What do you mean, no?” Hyunjin looked concerned, to say the least. As calm as he tried to seem on the outside, his eyes gave away his panicked state, and he was as pale as a ghost. 

“I mean I don’t need to get it checked out!” Minho said in such an exasperated tone that it made Hyunjin cower like a dog. 

Minho shifted onto his right foot to push himself up off of the ground. It felt degrading to sit like that with his younger brother crouching beside him. 

“Woah, what are you doing?” Hyunjin asked, “And... Why are you so hostile today? I think that you should have someone look at it. What if it gets worse?” he said, as he stood up as well, grabbing onto Minho’s arm to keep his balance. 

Annoyance clouded Minho when Hyunjin put that hand on his arm. In a harsh movement, he yanked away from his brother’s grip. 

“Just fuck off!” Minho yelled. 

Hyunjin was so shocked that he couldn’t think of anything to say back. He saw Minho’s eyes begin to fill with tears of frustration. 

Minho was upset beyond his control. On a normal occasion, he would never say these things to any of the members. But as Hyunjin remained calm, acting mature, Minho felt anger pile up and fog his mind.

Minho grabbed his hair, trying to ground himself. He was trying to keep himself from flying off the handle at Hyunjin. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you should figure it out before you talk to me like that,” Hyunjin said, a quiet tone contrasting to the loud outburst that the older boy created. 

Minho snapped his head around. “Will you stop treating me like that?” 

“Like what?”

“Like you’re my hyung!” Minho shouted. 

Realization dawned on Hyunjin. He chuckled dryly to himself. “I get it.” he whispered coldly. His expression was like ice, and his gaze was overwhelming to Minho. “You’re so mad because you’re too immature to take criticism. Not just that,” he said, his voice slightly rising in intensity, “but you can’t handle the fact that you can learn from someone younger than you,” he accused. 

Minho was outraged. He wanted to scream at Hyunjin and rip his hair out, but what was the point? Hyunjin was right. No matter how well he knew that, he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t let Hyunjin win. 

“You have such a goddamn age superiority complex that you can’t accept help from someone younger than you, isn’t that right?” Hyunjin asked, stepping forwards. 

Minho took a step backwards from the boy, only to cry out in pain again and fall to the ground. This time though, Hyunjin didn’t crouch down. 

“All I’ve been doing these past few days is help you because you’re my friend, and that’s what friends do,” he said. 

Minho felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he realized he was sitting while Hyunjin was towering over him. He felt that there was a power imbalance, yet he didn’t deserve to try and even it out. He was childish and petty. Minho felt guilty for everything, which only contributed to the pool of unshed tears in his eyes that refused to be blinked away. 

With a lowered head, Minho whispered “I’m sorry.” 

There was a brief beat of silence before Hyunjin finally sighed in exasperation as he crouched down again. 

“I just...” Minho sniffed and took a breath, finally feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. “I just want... to do well. And I’m jealous.” 

“You can’t be jealous of people like this, it’s not healthy,” Hyunjin said. 

“Yeah I know, but...” Minho dabbed his eyes with the hem of his shirt, not wanting his face to be all red and puffy, “I am the one who was supposed to help you. I was supposed to help you, and Felix, and Jisung, and Jeongin and everyone else, but all I’m doing is being a fucking child.” 

Hyunjin brought his hand out to rub circles into Minho’s back. Minho wanted to push him away, not deserving the comfort of his friend, but he couldn’t help the way he leaned into the touch. 

“I don’t know what’s going on inside your head to make you think that you can’t tell us when you’re injured or having a hard time, but I hope that you can find it in you to believe me when I say that...” Hyunjin paused, only starting again when Minho raised his head and they made eye contact, “you are talented, and you are special. Nobody thinks anything less than that.” 

Minho’s mind was telling him no. it was telling him that Hyunjin was lying, and that he shouldn’t believe what he said. Minho was an awful dancer and didn’t belong in the team. 

Yet, seeing the emotions in Hyunjin’s eyes, Minho felt himself beginning to believe it just a bit. 

“I’m sorry I exploded,” he murmured. 

Hyunjin gave him a gentle side hug. “Although it was shitty, I know you’re just stressed. The Lee Minho I know wouldn’t do this.”

Minho took a second to appreciate the lovely boy beside him. The boy that is more mature than his hyung. 

“I’m an awful friend, aren’t I?” Minho asked. 

Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Just a little bit,” he said, before pulling Minho’s head towards his chest. 

Minho sighed as he lolled himself towards Hyunjin. For once, it was nice to not have to be the hyung. It was kind of nice to not have to show his strong side. 

“I let my pride get the best of me,” Minho whispered. 

“I could tell that,” Hyunjin was rubbing soothing patterns on Minho’s hip, “just don’t let it happen again, okay?” 

Minho nodded against his shirt. 

“Hyunjin?” he asked, “Do you think... that you could take me to get my ankle looked at?” 

Hyunjin pressed his face against Minho’s head. Minho looked up into the mirror in front of them to see himself, red-eyed and puffy faced, curled up against Hyunjin, who had a lovely smile on his face. 

Again, it wasn’t an amused smile, but instead, it was a smile of fondness. A smile that one friend would give to another after they’ve settled a rather childish argument. 

“I was planning on taking you anyways.” 

[sparklydreamies]

Stray Kids 8 Part Series~ Mini MASTERLIST

(1) Bang Chan: Perfection

(2) Lee Minho: Pride is Sinful

(3) Seo Changbin: He Laughed

(4) Hwang Hyunjin [COMING SOON]

(5) Han Jisung [COMING SOON]

(6) Lee Felix [COMING SOON]

(7) Kim Seungmin [COMING SOON]

(8) Yang Jeongin [COMING SOON]

[sparklydreamies]

Stray Kids 8 Part Series ~ (1) Bang Chan: Perfection

Group: Stray Kids

Member: Bang Chan

Genre: Light angst + hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3,300+

Summary: Bang Chan can’t afford to take breaks in this industry. 

Stray Kids 8 Part Series MASTERLIST

A/n: This is the beginning of an 8 part Stray Kids hurt/comfort series!! I hope that you will all enjoy this a lot :) also writing this sort of theme about Chan absolutely killed me because this man deserves the entire world ;-;

TW: This story contains a descriptive anxiety attack.

Through the blurry, sleepy view his eyes gave him, Bang Chan could barely make out the small, digital clock on his desk that read 3:14. He groaned softly as he resumed his work on what was soon to be Stray Kids’ next title track. 

Normally, Chan considers himself a person who is able to work fast and diligently at the same time, which often comes in handy in an industry that demands perfection. Yet, as he sat slouched in his desk chair, fiddling with his laptop to try and create a proper bass line, he began to feel pressured. 

For a producing idol, having writer’s block was a death sentence. Nothing had the power to overwhelm Chan with the heavy feeling of anxiety like a deadline for a demo due at the end of the week which has barely been started.

It’s not that the song hasn’t been started, it’s that it has been started and restarted too many times to count after Chan deemed the previous draft unacceptable. Chan’s standards for himself might seem overkill to some people, but Chan calls it being a perfectionist. 

Everyone, including Bang Chan knows that real perfection was not possible for a man to achieve, however that didn’t stop Chan from striving for it. In a way, it was a blessing and a curse. Being a perfectionist meant that Chan was never finished with anything until he was one hundred percent proud of it. This demo was not an exception. 

As Chan listened to the basic beats he had recorded already, he began to drift out of consciousness. 

He had to finish the track. He was so tired. Maybe if he took a twenty minute nap he would feel better. No, he would just end up sleeping all night. Wake up. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep.

He was yanked out of his dreamy state by the harsh sound of his phone vibrating on his desk. He took a second to gather his surroundings before checking the text message sent to him. 

Changbinnie: Where are you?

Chan groaned. Changbin has been on his ass all week about taking care of himself as if he was made of glass. Changbin should know that this was how Chan worked. He always pushes himself to his breaking point and faces the brink of exhaustion in order to create the best music he could. There was no other way for him to make music. 

Channie: Studio

Chan cracked his back against his chair before getting back to work. It was only three in the morning, which was hardly late enough for Chan to admit defeat and give into his drooping eyelids. 

He didn’t get it. Music always came so easily to him. All of the lyrics he tried to write sounded too awkward for his liking. All of the beats were too overdone and basic. He was frustrated and tired, and far too busy to deal with Changbin’s nagging. 

Sure, Chan hasn’t been around for many meals during the past few days. Lord knows he hasn’t seen the inside of the dorm in three days straight unless it was to shower and change. Chan scoffed thinking of how he would react if it was one of the other members working to this extent. He would physically restrain them to their beds if that was necessary. He was different, though. He was the leader and the eldest. He didn’t have the time to worry about himself. He was responsible for all of their careers. He could handle a little bit of extra work. 

His hands were shaking slightly as he recorded another chord progression for the pre-chorus. At this point, Chan didn’t even know if they were shaking from exhaustion or from the sheer amount of caffeine he had coursing through his system. 

Chan let out another exasperated noise of defeat as he listened to the choppy way the verse led into the pre-chorus. He felt the frustration take right to his heart. His head was pounding, and he gripped the strands of his hair to ground himself. 

He was okay. He had pulled songs out of his ass before, he could do it now. It was going to be fine. Maybe if he added a lead-up sound into the pre-chorus, things would flow nicer. 

Why did he feel his eyes filling up with tears? He had no time to feel sorry for himself. Nothing was working out, and crying about it wouldn’t change the fact that his head was completely empty of original song ideas. 

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands before focusing again on the track in front of him. 

He hadn’t even started on the lyrics. 

The sense of panic was far too strong, and his mind was screaming for him to buck up, focus harder, create something that was acceptable. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts again by the sound of his studio door opening. 

“You’re going to kill yourself, I hope you know,” Changbin said quietly as he made his way over to his usual chair beside Chan. 

Chan tried to give a somewhat interested look to the younger rapper, but all he could manage was a slight head nod. He was still focused on the colourful lines of beats and chords on his laptop. He refrained from looking directly at the younger boy, not wanting to show any signs of the intense feelings that crushed his chest. 

“Jesus christ, you actually look like shit,” Changbin grabbed Chan’s chin gently and brought his gaze towards away from the track which was causing so much grief, “why are you doing this?” Chan’s gaze remained unfocused, looking at nothing in particular.

Chan took a second to process what he was saying. Why was he doing this? Because it was his job. Because the company, the members and the fans were all waiting for him to do his job properly. 

He wanted to say all of that, but what came out from his lips was “I have to”.

“That’s bullshit,” Changbin said, “I’ve been warning you about taking care of yourself-- Chan you’re shaking”. He moved to grab a hold of Chan’s trembling fingers. “You haven’t been eating, you haven’t been sleeping, you are a shell of yourself, and for what?” 

“For our jobs, Binnie” Chan pulled his hands away from the other boy, turning himself back towards the screen. He didn’t want the younger to see the fresh pool of salty tears threatening to fall down his cheeks without consent. 

Changbin sighed. “You’re more important than a deadline. You know that, right?” 

“What do you want me to do?” Chan asked, “I'm okay”. His voice was reduced to nothing more than a whisper. 

Chan didn’t need to look over to know that Changbin was thoroughly upset. Whether it was with him or the company, Chan didn’t know. All he knew was that when something upset Changbin, the aura of the room shifted. The air felt heavy and thick. 

“I’m worried about you,” Changbin said, placing his hand on Chan’s shoulder. The older boy involuntarily flinched at the unexpected contact. “I woke up in the middle of the night to see that you aren’t in your bed again, and I just don’t know what to do anymore,”

“Don’t”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t be worried about me,” Chan swiveled in his chair to finally meet Changbin’s gaze for the first time that night, “it’s not your issue,” He was expecting frustration, anger or fury, but he was startled when all he could read in his brother’s eyes was shock and sadness.

“You don’t...” he trailed off, “you don’t sound like yourself...” Changbin slowly raised himself out of his chair. He was avoiding Chan’s eyes. 

“All you’re doing is distracting me,” Chan accused, “I can handle myself, I don’t need you worrying about me like my mother,” 

Changbin’s entire body was stiff. He looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but couldn’t. 

Why couldn’t he see that this was what Chan needed? Why couldn’t he see that this was best? Why did he have to stick his nose in everybody’s business like he has any say in their activities? 

“You should leave now,” Chan said coldly, “I have to get back to work,” 

Changbin hesitated for a moment, seemingly mulling over what his next words should be. 

“You’re upset that you are having trouble with a song... Big deal,” Changbin said, still quietly, but with so much more bite to his tone, which shocked Chan. “We have an entire group of kids at home who need their leader. You think that they don’t feel anxious these days? We all feel stressed, Chan” 

“Bin-” 

“These children look up to you because you’re a damn good leader,” Changbin began moving anxiously around the room, “they see their... role model throwing his health away for a song, and they think that should be the standard. It is sick, and it shouldn’t have to go that far,” 

Chan felt the pressure in his head return at the words Changbin was saying. “You don’t have any right to bring them into this--”

“You know I found out Jeongin’s been skipping meals?” Changbin’s voice was steadily rising. His face was darkening with frustration that was hidden earlier.

Chan sat in stunned silence. Jeongin has been skipping meals? For how long? Why didn’t Chan realize this before? Was he sick? Did he need a councelor? Was he self conscious? 

Before Chan got a chance to ask any of these questions, Changbin continued on his rant. 

“All of the kids are stressed because that’s what happens before a comeback! I don’t give a damn if you want to ruin yourself for your music, because I get it. I do too. But I am not going to let you create a bad example for the kids. I can’t and I won’t,” 

Chan finally found the strength in his legs to stand up and look at Changbin face to face. He could see that Changbin was furious by the fire in his eyes and the red colour that was taking over his skin. 

“You have no right how to tell me to live, you don’t know what being the leader is like!” Chan snapped, shoving his finger into Changbin’s rapidly rising and falling chest, “I am doing this for the kids, okay?” 

“If you honestly cared about them,” Changbin shoved Chan back away from him, causing the leader to stumble before gaining his balance on his desk chair, “you would make sure that they knew their health always comes first. This is a dangerous game, Chan! And sooner or later you are going to lose,”

“I think you should leave,” Chan said for the second time that night. He had enough. This was all so that Stray Kids could be the best group they can be, yet Changbin is acting like Chan is a maniac for being a perfectionist. 

Changbin was stunned. “Be that way.” he mumbled before ultimately leaving the studio. Before ultimately leaving Chan alone. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind the younger boy, Chan muffled his screams of frustration with his hands. The tears that have been on edge for a while now began streaming down his face, making tracks that felt like they burned the soft skin. 

He was mad. No, mad was an understatement. He was upset. Furious. Angry. Pissed off. Hysterical. Any of those synonyms could describe the feelings that Chan felt. His head was pounding, and the pressure was back worse than ever. 

He felt guilty because Changbin was right. He didn’t even notice that Jeongin wasn’t eating. He didn’t deserve to be a leader. He should quit. He should go to the company and tell them he failed. 

Chan began pacing around the room, suddenly feeling like the walls were too small. 

His gaze fell on the small, white laptop that was causing his pain, and he felt white hot anger and frustration. With a cry of anguish, he slammed the screen shut. 

He pulled at his hair so forcefully he wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped from his scalp. His chest felt so tight. 

The laptop. He shut it so hard... What if he shattered the screen? With a whimper, he raised the screen up to see that it was still in good condition. The contents of the screen however, were not. 

Chan felt the air leave his lungs when he saw he got bounced out of the software. He felt like his world was crashing down around him. 

With shaky hands, he moved the mouse to open the software again. Chan prayed to whatever deity there was up there that he didn’t just lose all of the progress that he most definitely didn’t press save for. 

The one attempt of a song that Chan didn’t hate ended up deleting from his laptop, never to fully develop into a proper song. 

That was the final straw for Chan. 

All at once, it seemed like the Earth’s supply of oxygen vanished. His hands flew desperately to his hair in an attempt to pull himself out of the spiral he was in. 

He was full on sobbing, clutching his knees to his chest once his legs gave out from under him. He struggled for breath on his studio floor. He was so tired. He wanted to sleep so bad. 

It felt like his body was being compressed, and he didn’t know how to save himself. He felt hopeless and weak, crying over some stupid lost progress. His world was shattering. 

Your work is gone.

Changbin hates you.

Jeongin isn’t eating because of you.

The members don’t want you as their leader.

The fans know you’re a fraud.

You’re a horrible idol.

You don’t deserve to be here.

These thoughts were ringing in Chan’s ears, bouncing around his skull. Chan cried out again, burying his face into the carpet, trying to breathe. 

He needs help, but he doesn’t deserve it. He brought this on himself, and now he’s actually compelled to inconvenience another person with this. The track was gone, his members hated him, and he was broken. 

Chan’s entire forehead was slick with sweat, and he felt his body tremble. He was a weak, worthless fool. He was clawing at any part of him that he could. He felt so weak and alone, sobbing his heart out on the floor. 

He didn’t know exactly how long he spent curled up in a ball beside his desk before he was able to calm his heart rate down enough to process thoughts. He needed someone. He needed someone badly, but the weight of shame kept him seated against the wall. 

He wanted to call Changbin and apologize so badly, but with how immature and selfish he had been acting, Chan didn’t deserve the kindness and support the younger boy would inevitably give him. The guilt of how he treated the other boy began to eat away at the shame. 

With a spinning head, Chan hoisted himself upwards enough to grab his phone from the top of his desk. The time on the screen read 4:53, and Chan desperately hoped that Changbin was still awake. 

Without hesitating enough to psyche himself out, Chan pressed the “call” icon, and waited. He tried to slow down his breathing enough so that Changbin wouldn’t know he was crying. 

“What do you want?”

Chan was startled at Changbin’s greeting, almost stuttering his response. “I... I’m sorry,” was all that Chan could manage to say. 

“You should be,” 

Chan cringed at the bitterness in the other’s voice, but remained calm. “Can you come?” Chan’s voice was shaking slightly, and there was a beat of silence from the other end of the line. 

“Are you crying?” 

“No,” Chan denied, biting down on his closed fist in a sad attempt to stifle the sounds that were threatening to escape from his throat.

“Are you okay? Fuck I was almost home, but I’m coming back, okay? Just wait for me,” 

Chan felt another set of hot tears trail down his cheeks, which sucked because he thought he didn’t have any more tears left in him. He wanted Changbin to come back to him, but not because he was afraid that Chan couldn’t handle simple emotions. “Okay,” he answered, and as soon as he felt the tightness in his throat, he hung up the call. Changbin didn’t need to hear him sob. 

Chan felt himself start to slip into his spiral again, and slapped himself in the cheeks. He needed it to ground himself. 

Just breathe. 

Chan counted all of the breaths that he took until Changbin came. He tensed up once he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and a face next to his. He was expecting Changbin to be mad, however the boy keeps surprising him. 

There were faint wrinkles of worry on Changbin’s forehead as he held a serious gaze with the blubbering boy in front of him. His touch was irritating to Chan, who shrugged the hand off his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” Changbin whispered, trying to meet Chan’s eyes. 

Chan raised his eyes. “Why are you sorry?” he asked, sniffling and rubbing the tears away from his abused and stinging eyes. Changbin didn’t have anything to apologize for; it was Chan who was stupidly self-destructive. 

Changbin moved so that he was sitting beside Chan, his back against the studio wall. “I was too harsh. I should have been more patient, I know you’re stressed,” he sighed. Of course Changbin had to be an angel. 

“You... you were right,” Chan admitted. 

“Bang Chan? Admitting I’m right?” Changbin teased, “that’s a first,”

Chan playfully shoved Changbin, and then moved to rest his head on the younger’s shoulder. The atmosphere was lighter now that Changbin was there to relieve the pain. 

“I should have been a better leader,” Chan whispered, “I’m sorry,” 

Changbin surely didn’t miss the way his voice faltered at the end of his statement. Chan felt his eyes get heavier, the post-panic attack fatigue getting to him. 

“You’re a fucking amazing leader,” Changbin replied, “I’m sorry for being harsh. Although I am not sorry about telling you off for setting a bad example because I know that you can do better,”

“’S fair,” Chan slurred. 

“Look at me,” Chan gave a half-hearted, half-interested moan, “Christopher, I said look at me,” Changbin commanded, grabbing Chan’s chin and bringing it to his face, “You are perfect.” 

Chan searched Changbin’s eyes for lies, but was met with nothing but the sincerity of a best friend. 

“You are perfection. And I know that whatever you end up doing is going to be perfect,” 

Chan smiled at his friend. Even though he could be annoying and naggy, Changbin was always there to pick him up. He was always able to wipe the dirt off of your face when you fell from the high. He didn’t pass judgments. 

Chan was stuck in his thoughts until the realization of his reality hit him like a freight train. “Fuck,” he said as he pulled his face away. 

“What?”

“The song...” he said, grasping at his desk until he was in a standing position and opening his laptop again. 

Changbin stood up too and sighed. “I thought you were going to take it easier from now on,” he whined.

“Fuck no, Changbin,” he said, tiredness still evident in his tone, “it’s gone,”

“It’s gone?” Changbin pulled his seat beside Chan, focusing on the newly opened blank track Chan started. 

Chan just nodded as he tried to remember how the song goes. Okay, it was 120bpm tempo... What were the chords that made up the verse? What was the instrument? How did the beat go? 

Chan groaned in frustration as he racked his brain. 

“We’ve done this before,” Changbin shoved Chan so that he could get a better view of the laptop. 

“Huh?” 

“You, me and Jisung,” Changbin looked concentrated, “we’ve produced songs in hours. I’m sure we could get something done if we worked together,”

Chan smiled, probably for the first time in days. “I would like that a lot,” he said gratefully. 

It was then that Chan realized that maybe some some people could be perfect after all. 

[sparklydreamies]

Hi guys!! I’m really excited to announce that in addition to my ongoing story “Best Shot”, I am going to be starting an eight part series dedicated to Stray Kids! Each story within the series will be dedicated to one of the members, and none of them will be connected in any way. All of the stories are going to be centered around the general genre of light angst + hurt/comfort.

I hope that you guys will anticipate it and enjoy!

[sparklydreamies]

Best Shot ~Ch 4

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 6700+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about.

Main themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

MASTERLIST

a/n: I guess I’m making his parents worse than I planned, I apologize for that ddnvm,, also Hyunjin’s a big cutie and I will love him forever 

CHAPTER 4 

Surprisingly, there are some people who enjoy high school. Some people wake up every day, content in their own life and surroundings, happy to go to school to their abundance of friends, fully enjoying and taking advantage of their limited youthful years. Some people are able to live their teenage years happily, comfortable with themselves. Unsurprisingly, they were a very rare breed.

High school, for most kids, is not like they see in the movies. It isn’t filled with parties, good friends, romance or happiness, but is instead filled completely with overwhelming school work and the burden of self discovery. The feeling of comfort in one’s own skin long gone as people work to construct how they wish to be seen in the eyes of their friends. The big secret that they don’t tell you in movies is that nobody loves themselves completely. You may be happy with your personality or physical appearance, but everybody has just that one thing about themselves that they can’t help but want to conceal in a box, never to be seen by other people. 

For example, Jisung didn’t want to like boys. There was no reason that he couldn’t have been interested in girls, with their soft curves, full lips, and pretty faces. He should have been like his friend Felix, who would willingly leave Jisung stranded in some desolate, dusty desert somewhere if it meant that he could have a shot with a college girl. 

Felix was the straightest boy Jisung knew. There was no way in hell that Jisung would ever feel very comfortable telling Felix his secret; he’s too worried that Felix would think he’s abnormal or strange. Although the more Jisung thinks about it, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure Felix would be wrong. 

Jisung was used to the guilty feeling that bloomed deep in his chest when he thought about telling his family. His homophobic, conservative family. Lord knows Jisung has sat through way too many nights of hearing his father shouting slurs and making offensive comments at the television, or at his friends, who often would laugh and retort with an insult of their own. 

Thinking about how his mother would react did nothing to help cool the fire that was burning his lungs. What would she blame it on? Where would she ship him off to in the hopes of changing his views and correcting his disorder? Jisung’s mind raced as he thought of what he would have to endure, all for the sake of his mother’s reputation. Heaven forbid she ever raised a son who liked boys. 

Jisung was plagued with these thoughts, eating away at his consciousness until he felt like he was suffocating in the reality and weight of his problem. He had no outlet for his frustration. He was all alone. All alone and deformed. A blasphemy. How could he like boys of all things?

Jisung tried not to think about his problem during the days leading up to his first basketball game, which was much easier said than done. Jisung was quickly beginning to understand how Felix would feel when he was with Dahyun, or any other girl for that matter. When Jisung saw Minho walking down the halls of their school, talking and laughing with his friends, smiling and waving at Jisung, it was like he completely lost the ability to breathe. No matter how much Jisung tried to suppress it, Minho had a tight grip on his heart. 

Mina was a big help to Jisung. After their little talk on the bleachers by the track, Jisung often felt himself relying on her kindness and support. The thought of bothering her with his stupid drama and inner turmoil made him feel guilty, but he sincerely felt like there was no way he could keep this to himself. He was just too confused and upset. 

Friday came sooner than Jisung would have liked. Friday’s were the official game days for the varsity boys basketball team. 

Of course, Jisung wouldn’t actually be playing. No, Jisung still didn’t have the level of skill that it would take to be an actual player, but he was happy to be just sitting on the bench. The idea of playing was leaving a sour feeling with Jisung, and it was not very helpful to him while he tried to focus on his studies. 

Contrary to the sick feeling Jisung had, Felix and Seungmin were buzzing with excitement all day. Jisung thought it was strange how they both seemed way happier about this than he did, but judging by how much they cared about social hierarchies, it was expected. 

“Maybe you can talk to Minho and see if he’ll let you play, even for just a quarter,” Felix suggested when the boys sat down for lunch that eventful Friday. Jisung scoffed at him. The last thing he wanted was to actually play. It was astonishing how Felix still didn’t grasp that concept. 

“Felix you idiot, Jisung can’t even hold the ball properly, no way Minho will let him play,” Seungmin answered, making Felix giggle. Jisung shot him an exasperated look. 

“Not true,” Jisung denied, “Hyunjin says I’m better than I think I am. It’s not that I can’t play, it’s that I don’t want to play,”

“Because you don’t want to embarrass yourself?” Felix teased, but there was honestly nothing Jisung could counter about that question. He knew that he had basic skills, but nothing outstanding. Once he begins private practices with Hyunjin, maybe he’ll begin to improve. After all, Hyunjin obviously knows what he is doing when it comes to basketball. 

“Hey, since when are you such good friends with Hyunjin?” Seungmin asked, “Didn’t you hate him like a week ago?” 

“No, not hate him,” Jisung said in a small voice. There was a small beat of awkward silence before Seungmin changed the subject. Jisung was grateful for that. 

“Whatever. Felix did you end up figuring out the history homework, or are you going to freeload off my answers again?” Seungmin asked, and the conversation went off from there. 

Jisung was barely participating in the conversation, and he ended up completely tuning Felix out while the boy talked about why he didn’t do the assignment. Instead, Jisung’s eye was drawn to a vibrant colour he saw from across the cafeteria. Of course, it was the bright red, tell tale sign of the varsity basketball team. Jisung wanted to avert his gaze, but his eyes decided to focus themselves on the soft features of the boy who was unknowingly ruining his life. 

Jisung watched as Minho laughed at something Youngjae said, and they took a seat on the opposite corner of the room. Jisung was still zoned out, wondering what they were talking about when two fingers snapped in front of his face, drawing his attention away from the boys. 

“Ji?” Felix asked, chuckling at him, “are you good?” 

Jisung shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded a yes. He turned to look at Seungmin, who was giving him a questioning gaze. There was a small period of silence once again, before Jisung asked “what?” 

“We were asking if you’re exited about tonight, stupid,” Seungmin repeated. 

“I mean, I guess so,” Jisung coughed awkwardly, “like I said, I’m not really going to play,” 

“Well play or not, we’re still going to support you,” Seungmin said. Jisung blushed a bit out of embarrassment. 

Felix smiled, “oh yeah Ji, we might make posters too,” 

“I know you guys are joking, but please do not do that,” Jisung warned, feeling too embarrassed to even imagine the horrible sight that would be. Felix and Seungmin, sitting in the middle of a sea of high schoolers, holding homemade signs, whooping whenever Jisung took a drink of water. Absolutely the last thing Jisung needed.

“Felix, I don’t know if I have any glitter glue left at my house though, we might have to pick some more up,” Seungmin said, and all three boys started laughing. 

----

“Attention teachers. At this time, please dismiss all members of the varsity boys basketball team, as today is game day. Good luck boys, we wish you luck!”

Jisung felt his stomach tighten slightly at the announcement. He saw across the room that Hyunjin, whom he shared last period with, was packing up his books and getting ready to leave. He gave Jisung a reassuring smile. Jisung nervously began to pack up his belongings, shoving them into his backpack. 

Jisung wasn’t nervous about playing the game, as he knew he was just there as a spare in the unlikely case that two of the team members got injured and they needed their last resort extra. He wasn’t nervous about the possibility of losing the game, because it wasn’t that important to him. So what was the reason for his unwelcome feeling of anxiety? Why was he so nervous? It’s not like he’s alone, he has Hyunjin, Minho, and everyone else on the team who has grown to be friendly acquaintances with Jisung over the past week. 

He had no more time to try and untangle his thoughts, as he was being led out the classroom door by Hyunjin, who was calling a last goodbye to their teacher. 

“Are you nervous?” Hyunjin asked. Of course Jisung was nervous. It’s in his nature to be nervous about everything. Jisung felt his heartbeat in his throat.

“No, not at all,” Jisung answered, sounding surprisingly calm despite the feelings he was experiencing. 

“Liar,” Hyunjin mumbled, shoving Jisung’s shoulder as they walked. Jisung smiled. It was nice to have Hyunjin around; he always seemed to understand Jisung’s emotions, yet never judged him. It was just like their old times, when Jisung would be upset about the insignificant drama of their sixth grade class, and Hyunjin would always be there to cheer him up. 

“Shut up,” Jisung whispered as they reached the gym hallway. He took a breath before shoving the heavy door of the change room open with his shoulder. 

Once Jisung opened the door, he was met with loud music echoing off the walls, and the faint smell of sweat. He wrinkled his nose at the stench, wondering what the room would smell like after the boys played an hour of basketball. 

Hyunjin led Jisung to the back corner of the room, where they usually sit. All around them, boys were getting undressed and changed into their horribly designed uniforms. Jisung once again felt awkward and slightly self conscious changing in front of these boys. He feels awkward enough exposing his own skin to these boys, but pair that with the fact that he just realized he likes men. His doubts were eased slightly when he saw Hyunjin slip off his uniform shirt beside him. 

Jisung began to get undressed when the door swung open again. The sound of the heavy door swinging open rang throughout the already noisy room. Jeongin paused the music blaring from his speaker once the team captain walked in. Jisung was suddenly brought back to the back that not only was he shirtless and exposed in front of the other boys, but he was half naked in front of Lee Minho. 

He felt embarrassment slowly creep up on him and make his ears burn. Minho didn’t spare him a glance, yet Jisung still felt ashamed. He quickly slid on his basketball shirt, thankful that it covered his chest. 

When the boys were all ready and the last bell rang for the school day, Minho made his way to the middle of the room, clearing his throat and grabbing everyone’s attention. Jisung saw how Minho rolled up the sleeves on his jersey shirt, and he thought it made Minho look even cooler in it than he previously thought. 

“Alright boys,” Minho started, and the remaining murmurs echoing in the room ceased. “We’re off to a good start this season, but we need to keep it up.” Jisung saw some of the boys nod, and some of them clapped lightly. “Our biggest difficulty this season is our defense, which I went over lightly last practice. It’s not enough to score points, we also have to keep the other team from scoring points,” he continued. Minho suddenly pointed towards Jisung, and he felt like his heart stopped. 

“On another note, today is Jisung’s very first game!” Minho announced, and the rest of the team began to whoop at that, making Jisung’s blushing face fall into his hands. This was too much attention for him. Hyunjin smiled dumbly and shoved Jisung’s shoulder. “Let’s show him how winning feels, yeah?” Minho suggested, his voice getting louder. There was a booming chorus of agreements from the team. “Yeah?” Minho repeated, his voice very loud now. “Let’s go!” He called, opening the heavy doors and holding it for the team to pass through. 

Unlike during practices which were private for the most part, the school gymnasium was packed full with students and a few parents occupying the bleachers on the side of the court. 

The energy in the space was electric, and Jisung found himself wondering how he had never been to a basketball game before. Maybe it was due to the fact that he never saw the interest in watching sweaty boys wrestle a ball away from each other. 

A loud holler from the bleachers drew Jisung’s attention to his two best friends, cheering him on. Jisung smiled at them, but spared no more than that as he jogged over to the bench where he would be staying for the entirety of the game. 

All around him, his teammates were warming up, executing drills Jisung remembered from practice, and stretching. Jisung himself tried to get his heart rate up, but for no particular reason other than to not look like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. 

Basketball is an interesting sport, Jisung concluded by the halftime mark. It wasn’t as slow as golf or even baseball, but it wasn’t as fast as hockey. There was a noticeable grace to the players as they made their formations, utilizing plays and techniques learned from hours of practice. The way that they relied on their teammates was quite cool to Jisung. It was like they were a machine, each component with their own mission, all working together for the greater good. 

By the time halftime rolled around, Jisung’s team was losing, significantly. The tension was obviously high; Jisung could see that from the exasperated faces of his teammates, and the obvious overconfidence from the other team. 

Hyunjin didn’t even bother to pat Jisung on the shoulder, or ruffle his hair on his way to his water bottle. He looked focused, concentrating on the present game. Minho looked even worse. 

Sweat was dripping all down the side of his face and his neck, shining under the harsh lights of the gym. His hair was completely stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were serious. Jisung felt a little bit intimidated from the strange change in the other’s behavior. Jisung had never experienced Minho to be this determined and fierce. His features were sharper, and there was a fire in his expression. The sight took Jisung’s breath away. 

“Guys, what are we doing out there?” Minho ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to get it off his forehead, “We’re playing like amateurs. We are sloppy, not coordinated, and we’re playing way too rushed. We’re throwing the ball away, and it’s going right to the other team. That isn’t the way to win, right?” he asked, and there were a few agreements from the team. Jisung internally chuckled, because before, he thought the team was very much in sync. “I want to win this game just as much as you guys do. So let’s slow ourselves down, okay? Play smarter, not harder,” he concluded. 

He then led the team into a loud cheer, hyping up the home crowd. The boys made their way back onto the court, wiping their sweaty foreheads on their jerseys. Jisung didn’t miss the way that some girls swooned over them, catching some of the boys’ attention. 

After the third quarter commenced, Jisung was a bit astounded. It was almost as if Minho had flipped a switch with his words. Progress came slowly, but sure enough, they began to climb the scoreboard. Jisung felt himself grow more and more invested in the game as he watched the boys fly across the court, ball after ball into the other team’s hoop. 

Jisung watched, his heart in his throat, as Hyunjin expertly sank a three-pointer. He jumped in his seat, which caught the eye of Hyunjin himself, who was smiling ear-to-ear like an idiot. 

When the team pilled back into the change room after the game, the adrenaline was enough to choke on. Jisung was ecstatic, bumping into and high fiving his teammates after his first ever win. 

Jisung understood why people care about sports. At least, he was starting to. There was a sense of family in that change room after that game, and Jisung bathed in it. Even if he wasn’t that close with the members yet, he felt more than accepted as he was pulled into a hug from Choi Youngjae. 

“Settle down!” yelled a voice coming from the door, and Jisung turned around to see Minho standing there, proudly smiling, obviously basking in the post-victory high. 

One by one, the boys moved to their spots, and let Minho give them a final talk about how they played, and where they would rank in the standings after beating this team. Jisung didn’t catch too much, he was preoccupied by Hyunjin bumping into his side, still smiling so hard he might split his face open. 

Once they were changed, Hyunjin led Jisung out of the change room, and into the school’s main hallway. They passed a slew of people that were waiting for their player friends to change quickly so they could leave. He passed by a few dejected faces of boys from the other school. 

Jisung did not expect Hyunjin leaning towards the other players and sincerely congratulating them on their game. There wasn’t a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his voice at all, but rather there was real sincerity. 

“Why are you doing that?” Jisung whispered to him. 

“What, talking to the other guys?” Jisung nodded, still giving him questioning eyes, “Well, they played a really good game, and I know I would appreciate it if I got complimented from the other players,” Hyunjin explained, leaning away from Jisung to congratulate another young looking boy. 

Jisung shook his head. Of course Hyunjin was just about the sweetest person alive. It was no different from when they were kids. Everybody loved Hyunjin because he was nice, and didn’t make fun of people. That’s probably also the reason Jisung’s mother was so infatuated with Hyunjin. Who doesn’t want their son to be friends with such a polite and well mannered boy? 

“Hyunjin, you were great,” Jisung said, once they passed a small crowd of what looked like freshmen, “honestly, I think you won that for us,” 

Hyunjin gave a small laugh. A blush slightly painted his cheeks, which he failed to hide from Jisung. “Are you trying to steal my thing from me?” he countered, giving an offended glare. 

Jisung slapped him lightly in the arm. “No, I just think you did really well!” 

Hyunjin smiled fondly, focusing his gaze on the ground in front of them. “It was Minho all the way,” he said, “but thanks,”

Jisung was about to argue with him when something caught his eye. A slight glimmer of fluorescent lights hitting jet black hair. He turned slightly to examine, and almost choked on his breath when he saw the familiar pale skin and small stature. 

He remembered the pretty girl quite vividly; he remembered feeling her pressed against him in a dark hallway, stealing rushed kisses from him. He also remembered the awkward moment when he pushed her away, and shuddered. Jisung tried to keep his head down and walk, lest he make eye contact and relive the painful memory, but of course, life is a bitch. 

“Jisung!” someone called from that direction, however it wasn’t the soft spoken voice of the pretty little girl from the party. Instead, it was the deep and recognizable voice of Lee Felix. 

Hyunjin was the first to turn, smiling wide at the smaller boy, pushing Jisung towards that general direction. Jisung saw Felix had his arm around the waist of a gorgeous blonde girl. Of course, Jisung recognized her as Kim Dahyun. 

“Good game! Does your ass have splinters from sitting on the bench?” Seungmin called, Felix laughing with him. Typical of Seungmin. Jisung landed a fairly hard punch right on the bone in his arm, sure to leave a bruise. 

Jisung’s eyes raised to meet Nayeon’s. The girl tucked her soft hair behind her ear. 

“So I’ve been told that you two know each other,” Dahyun teased, poking her friend in the side. Nayeon blushed slightly, mumbling a small warning to drop it. 

Jisung saw the gross look in Felix’s eyes. It was the type of look that says “my friend is definitely going to get some”. Jisung wrinkled his nose and drew his attention away from his perverted friend. 

“It’s fine,” Jisung awkwardly mumbled. “Have you met Hwang Hyunjin?” he asked, changing the subject away from the girl who looked quite nervous. 

As Dahyun and Hyunjin made each other’s acquaintance, Jisung couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor girl. He didn’t want Nayeon to think that she forced herself on him, or that he had any harsh feelings towards her in any way. She still avoided his gaze. 

Jisung figured that was expected. If the tables were turned and Nayeon pushed Jisung away, he would feel absolutely ashamed of himself. 

“Anyways, I think it’s time we should go, I’m driving Jisung home,” Hyunjin said, causing Jisung to snap back into reality at the mention of his name. 

“Uh yeah, we should get going,” he agreed, “it was nice seeing you guys again,” he waved at Dahyun and Nayeon. 

The two boys stiffly made their way to the school’s main entrance, where Hyunjin’s car was parked. Hyunjin made some stupid joke about riding shotgun or something, which Jisung found hard to pretend to laugh at. 

“So,” Hyunjin started once they got into the car. Hyunjin fired up the engine, making his way slowly to the road, among all the post-game traffic. “Who was the cutie?” he asked. 

Jisung groaned at the intrusive question. Why can’t Hyunjin just not bother to care? The answer was because being nosy is a part of Hyunjin’s personality. “She’s nobody,” he answered, brushing off the question.

“That doesn’t sound convincing,” Hyunjin mumbled, pulling out of the parking lot. 

“She’s just a girl,” 

Hyunjin laughed at his friend. “Felix was looking like he was expecting you two to take your clothes off right there,” 

“Jesus, dude!” Jisung cried out, trying to hit his head against the window to the sound of Hyunjin’s giggles. “She’s just a girl that I fooled around with once, okay? Not a big deal.” he reluctantly answered. Hwang Hyunjin was a pain in the ass. 

Of course, Hyunjin began his chorus of oohs, causing Jisung to cover his face. “I think...” Hyunjin trailed off. Jisung uncovered his face to see what caused Hyunjin to stop talking. “I think you like her,” Hyunjin teased. 

Jisung almost burst out laughing. The irony of that conclusion was astounding. It was crazy how someone could be so wrong about a topic. Just imagine the shock Hyunjin would feel if he found out about Jisung’s little crush on Minho. 

“What?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung just shook his head. 

"I don’t like Nayeon,” Jisung pressed, still trying to gain control of his laughter, “please drop it,” he said. 

Hyunjin mumbled a “fine” under his breath. 

After a second of silence, Hyunjin spoke again. “Is there anybody that you do have a thing for?” he asked. 

Jisung paused his breathing. The way that Hyunjin asked that made Jisung’s mind immediately conclude that Hyunjin knew about Minho. 

How did he know? Jisung wasn’t that obvious. He didn’t tell anybody except for Mina. Did Mina tell Hyunjin? No, Mina isn’t close with Hyunjin. Did Mina tell other people, which got passed around from person to person until it hit Hyunjin? Did the whole school know?

No. They didn’t. Jisung willed himself to calm down, as he didn’t know whether or not this was even the topic Hyunjin was regarding. 

“No, not really,” Jisung said weakly, hoping that Hyunjin couldn’t see past his bullshit. 

“You never seem to be interested in anybody,” Hyunjin chuckled. Jisung felt himself loosen up as the atmosphere grew light again. “That’s a real shame, you’d make a great boyfriend,” he joked. 

Fuck Jisung’s mind for overthinking. 

----

“There you are,” Chaeryeong called from the kitchen. The smell of something cooking greeted Jisung as he walked through the front door. Chaeryeong was stirring a pot of something on the stove, making dinner like she usually is expected to. “How was the game?” she asked. 

“Fine, we won,” he answered. Chaeryeong moved around the kitchen some more, handling this and that. Jisung always admired his sister’s cooking skills; he had never been much of a chef himself. 

Jisung’s mother wasn’t around too much to cook for her children, and when she was, she was often too tired or unmotivated. As the oldest girl, the duty was passed onto Chaeryeong from a young age. Jisung never found it that fair, but Chaeryeong never complained. When Jisung would offer to share the work with her, she would just smile and say she would rather make something edible than eat whatever Jisung would make. Chaeryeong might be annoying at times, but she was a responsible and tolerant girl. 

Chaeryeong smiled and gave him a quick congratulations for his victory before the sound of a yell rang through their home. Chaeryeong froze in her spot.

Jisung’s face dropped. “Why is he here, I thought he wasn’t coming until tomorrow?” he whispered to Chaeryeong. She gave him a sort of exasperated shrug as she tried to continue her work. 

“His meetings for tomorrow got cancelled, so he decided to come back early,” Chaeryeong said, “believe me, I was just as surprised as you,”

The man that was currently occupying their living room was Jisung’s father. No doubt he was trying to yell at the soccer referees through the television. 

Jisung and Chaeryeong’s father was just about the least likable man they know of. 

Jisung’s parents had tarnished Jisung’s perception of healthy relationships from a very young age. Sure, every marriage has their ups and downs, but it wasn’t until Jisung was eleven or twelve years old that he realized not everybody’s parents dissolve into screaming matches during every conversation.

If Jisung was being honest, a lot of the worst moments from his childhood had resulted due to his father’s loud arrogance and his mother’s stubborn judgement. The only reason they haven’t gotten divorced yet is because Jisung’s mother is so occupied with thinking about what her friends would think about her. Her incapability of pleasing her husband like a good wife should. It was better for her to silently accept the hellish life she had created for herself, while simultaneously ruining her children’s childhoods all for the “greater good”.

If his parents were to get a divorce, there is no doubt in Jisung’s mind that he would rather live with his mother. Even though she could be harsh and mean, she could also be a decent mother. Jisung’s father was never much of a father. It was easy to have conversations with his mother when she was in the right mood. Sometimes however, when Jisung thinks about his mother, the bad memories are always what surface first. The memories of her calling him useless, saying he ruined her promising life, saying that he was a disappointment. 

That sort of thing can really hurt a kid. 

Jisung’s house sometimes felt like a war zone. It was almost impossible to dodge the bullets that his parents were always firing around, attempting to blame others for their own unhappiness. If he managed to avoid being shot with harsh words from his parents, surely he would make a comment, or do something that would set off a landmine of arguments and yelling throughout his house. 

Jisung had learned through many years of struggling to avoid the sharp words of his parents that when the two of them were both home together, it was the best move to be out of the house. 

“Chae,” he whispered, trying to quietly make his way into where his sister was still cooking, “let’s go out somewhere,” 

Chaeryeong nodded quickly at him, “but I have to finish their dinner, or we’ll be in deep shit,” she said, moving to take the sauce off of the stove. Jisung gave her a little pat on the shoulder as he moved to silently make his way upstairs to his room, without alerting his parents that he was home. 

Chaeryeong had it harder than Jisung, he knew. His parents rarely expected him to do anything, but they essentially forced Chaeryeong to do their cooking and cleaning. She is still young; she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a maid because her parents don’t like making their own meals. 

It was useless trying to understand the logic Jisung’s parents had when it came to raising kids. 

Jisung changed out of his school uniform and into his casual clothes before making his way back downstairs to see if Chaeryeong was ready to leave yet. He quietly made his way down the stairs, moving so expertly down the wood where he knew it wouldn’t creak. Unfortunately, it was all in vain when he heard his mother’s voice in the kitchen. 

“Call me when it’s time- oh, Jisung you’re home,” she said when Jisung walked into the kitchen, “how was your day?” 

“It was good mom,” Jisung said, but he could tell she wasn’t paying that much attention. 

“Did you say hi to your father yet?” she said, and before Jisung could object, she was calling his name, beckoning him over to greet his son. Jisung saw Chaeryeong shrug at him. Jisung dangled his car keys to signal that he still wanted to get the hell out of there, which she silently agreed with. 

Jisung didn’t have any urge to talk to his father. To his dismay, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps coming from the living room, followed by mumbles of “the game is on,” and such. 

Jisung’s dad wasn’t a bad looking man. Sometimes Jisung thinks if he had a better personality, he might even be a decent catch. His father was tall, with very dark hair and a fairly slim build. He was decent looking enough for many people to envy his mother, however those people never saw the real person that he was. The person who shamelessly bashes his family, while at the same time expects to be treated like a king. 

Jisung doesn’t care about how his father insults him, his academics, his looks or his friends, but it kills Jisung to see how he hurts Chaeryeong. Chaeryeong is a bright and happy girl, but Jisung can see the way that his father tears down her confidence. 

He breaks her down so easily with his judgments. Jisung’s skin crawls every time he thinks about his father casually bringing up her looks and her weight, saying she should eat less if she wants a husband. Jisung never fails to notice how her face drops, and her entire aura becomes sad and insecure. Jisung hates to see her like that. 

“How have you been, Jisung?” Jisung’s father asked when he entered the room, “I almost didn’t recognize you, you’ve changed,”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Jisung mumbled, and grabbed his father’s extended hand. 

“I still think you could build some muscle, it wouldn’t hurt you,” Jisung nodded at his father. It was honestly best not to interact too much with him. “You should consider playing a sport or something, lord knows you have so much free time,” 

“Well Jisung is playing on the school basketball team now,” Chaeryeong piped up from where she was cutting bread. So much for not interacting much with him. 

Jisung’s eyes widened as this sunk in. Jisung never told his mother that he was going to join the team. She barely likes him working his job while trying to study, Jisung knew that him playing basketball would make her livid. 

“What did she say?” his mother asked. Only then did Chaeryeong seem to process the fact that Jisung’s mother didn’t know. “The team that Hyunjin is on? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I was going to tell you, but-” Jisung was cut off.

“My son is a basketball player?” Jisung’s dad asked, suddenly very interested in this conversation. 

Jisung’s mother didn’t have the angry or upset look in her eyes that Jisung was expecting, but rather she looked almost offended. Offended and disappointed that Jisung ignored her opinions and thoughts about focusing on things other than studies. 

“Jisung likes being on the team, right Ji?” Chaeryeong asked him, trying to make up for her previous mistake.

“I really do,” Jisung said, shifting his eyes between his mother’s exasperated ones, and his father’s curious ones. 

Jisung’s father patted him on the shoulder, “you’ve never been the athletic type. Maybe this will change that,” he said, snaking his arm around Jisung’s tense shoulders, which Jisung ultimately shrugged off. 

“I wish you would have told me,” Jisung’s mother said quietly, “I’m not worried about your school. You’re doing fine in your classes, but I don’t want you to take your foot off of the gas.” she said. 

“I know that, it’s just that this means a lot to me, and I’m having a lot of fun with the team,” he explained. 

Jisung’s mother gave a sort of small whine. Her expression was unreadable to Jisung. She ran her fingers through her dark hair, usually a sign that she was upset about something. 

“You’re having too much fun with the team,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “I’m too tired for this, I worked hard all day,” she said, and with that, she turned on her heels and headed towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. 

Jisung gave Chaeryeong a panicked look, but she just signaled to him that he should let her go and have her space. Jisung felt guilt pile up in his chest, however he could not bring himself to figure out what to do about it. He didn’t know how he could make his mother less disappointed. 

Jisung’s father, unlike Jisung and his sister, obviously was not phased by the exit of his wife.

“So what, have you had any games yet?” he asked, but Jisung gave him a cold shoulder. Silently, Jisung turned away from his father, and called Chaeryeong over. 

“Oh.. Dad, Jisung and I have something to do, we’ll be back later..” Chaeryeong called, “dinner is ready, help yourself, and please try and see if mom will eat,” 

----

Most people prefer to have a destination in their minds while driving with their baby sisters, but it didn’t matter to Jisung. He was just happy that him and Chaeryeong were able to breathe outside that house. 

And so, their evening consisted mainly of them driving around, talking about pointless things until they found a place where they could get quick food. 

“What...” Jisung asked, once him and Chaeryeong settled into a parking lot outside of the local variety store, “what did mom mean by I’m having too much fun?” Jisung asked, fiddling with the little straw in his drink. 

“Don’t act like she didn’t have to feel the embarrassment of her only son being dragged home at three in the morning by some good looking neighbor boy,” she answered, “I’m all for that lifestyle. I’d let Hyunjin drag me anywhere. But mom is different,”

Jisung refrained from gagging at the gross comment about Hyunjin, and instead focused on what Chaeryeong was saying about their mother. She didn’t want her children going out and drinking like delinquents. She valued studies and ambition. 

“Mom is just afraid of what people would think of her as a mother if you became like Hyunjin, Chan, or any other of those guys.” 

Chaeryeong was making sense. Before Jisung could agree with her, he felt a rhythmic vibration in his pocket. His heart almost exploded out of his chest at the caller ID. 

Why the hell was Lee Minho calling Jisung at quarter after nine? 

“Uh, hold- hold on,” Jisung stumbled over his words, unbuckling his seat belt and snaking his way out of his car to gain some privacy. Jisung took a small breath before clicking the green answer button. 

“Hi Minho, what’s going on?” Jisung asked, wincing at the way his voice sounds broken. 

“Jisung, Jisung,” Minho answered, words slurred slightly, “everybody shut up!”

Jisung had to hold the phone slightly away from his ear as Minho yelled at whoever was probably in the room with him. 

“Is everything okay?” Jisung asked, and Minho chuckled. 

“Everything is fucking amazing! We’re at Chan’s house with booze, will you come? Please?” Minho whined. Jisung couldn’t help but notice how cute Minho’s voice sounded when he whined like that. The boy was already adorable, but Jisung felt his heart clench when he heard the soft words. 

Still though, he had Chaeryeong with him. Not only that, but he should be going home soon before his mother beats him. Jisung thought about what his mother had said about him having too much fun with his team. He felt his heart clench again, except this was not the sweet torture of the cute brunette on the other line of the phone, but rather the guilt of what he was doing to his mother. 

“I can’t Minho, I’m so sorry,” he said, and he heard the other boy whine again. Jisung figured that Minho must be pretty drunk, because he seemed way different than this at the original party at Bang Chan’s. The original party where the roles were reversed, and Jisung was the very drunk one. 

“Why not?” Minho asked.

“Because I’m busy right now, okay? Are you okay there?” Jisung asked, and Minho laughed again, except this time it was more like a giggle than a chuckle. 

“Mhm,” he said, “oh and also before I forget,” Minho started, “it’s team tradition...” the boy trailed off. 

Jisung waited a beat before asking “tradition to what?” 

“Don’t you know? All new players have to throw a party,” Minho said, “it’s welcoming tradition,”

Jisung felt his stomach drop. There was no way that he would be able to throw a party and still have the respect of his mother. 

“I’ll have to talk to you about it when you’re sober, okay?” Jisung said, noticing that Chaeryeong was banging on the glass window, signaling that it was close to nine thirty, which is the time that their mother wants them home most nights. 

“Jisung don’t go,” Minho begged, “will you sing for me?”

Jisung waited a second before realizing that Minho was being serious. “...no” he said, “Minho, I have to go,” Jisung said, and he knew that he wasn’t going to get a proper response back when he heard the other boy begin singing loudly. 

Jisung hung up the phone and got back into the car. 

“Who was that?” Chaeryeong asked, buckling her seat belt up.

Jisung did the same as he answered “it was Minho,” 

“Minho? Like Lee Minho?” she asked. 

“The one and only,” Jisung started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, beginning their drive back to their house. 

“What did he want?” 

“He wanted me to throw a party.. apparently it’s some sort of team tradition, I don’t know,” Jisung answered, realizing how dumb the request was. No way he was going to throw a party for a bunch of dumb jock basketball players that would inevitably end up in a wreaked house and a panic attack. 

What Jisung wasn’t expecting was his baby sister to ask him “you’re going to do it though, right?” 

[sparklydreamies]

Little League

Group: BTS

Pairing: Yoongi + Hoseok

Genre: Light angst, light fluff

Word Count: 1600+

Summary: It’s been a long time since Yoongi had felt the innocent joy of childhood.

a/n: This is my first time really writing angst, I know it’s not that great haha,, this fic is inspired by the song Little League, by Conan Gray. I hope you guys enjoy!

The soothing sound of gravel crunching beneath his feet continued as Min Yoongi made his way down the streets of his old hometown.

How long had it been? Eight, maybe nine years. It had been close to a decade since he had seen the yellow grass that spread out on the front lawns of numerous homes. The sweetly-human town that was pocketed in between the hustle and bustle of larger cities used to be overflowing with a certain feeling that many people thought of as gray and grim, usually not worth their time. 

Yoongi disagreed. He had always painted the town with oranges and yellows. 

Sometimes, Yoongi thought of the place he grew up to be a beautiful, vibrant sunset colour. He saw it in the kindness of neighbors, and the warmth that came along with their love. 

Other times, Yoongi associated it with the fading yellow colour that was usually found within old, withering scrapbooks that could barely hold themselves together at their seams. The colour of memories that could only be captured in the quick, white flash of a camera. 

Yoongi thought that about his childhood. Memories and faces were faded. 

The summer sun beat down on him as he continued to haul himself down the once familiar veins of his community. The light was blatant, and caused him to squint to watch the ground in front of him. 

The town used to be somnolent and quiet. Now, the quaint, small homes that had contained as much character as their owners had, were replaced with newer, more modern and ever orthodox houses. They were crammed close together, and lacked the amount of personality the old homes had. 

Yoongi’s eyes raised for a second at a small, white house situated on the corner of the street. He remembered the tidy and warm one-story house that used to occupy the lot. He remembered the family that lived in it.

Yoongi remembered the warm, summer nights he spent crawling out of his bedroom window, jogging down the silent streets whose occupants had long since laid down for bed. The occasional buzz from mosquitoes flying around his head was the only sounds he heard at the late hours.

He remembered the cozy home on the street corner, dark and plain. Yoongi had always felt as if the house itself was asleep, not wanting to be disturbed by a young boy who wanted to stupidly rebel at ungodly hours of the morning. The house never complained when Yoongi would sneak up to it silently, his footsteps being inaudible on the dying grass of the yard. It never expressed negativity when Yoongi would rap lightly on the window attached to the bedroom of Yoongi’s best friend. Yoongi had met Jung Hoseok after cheering the sobbing child up at school. He couldn’t have even began to realize the impact that the little, snotty, weeping boy would have on his life. 

Those late nights had been the defining moments of Yoongi’s childhood. His formative years. Running towards the playground down the street with Jung Hoseok was what created the man he knew himself as. 

He remembered the way that the moonlight would make Hoseok’s skin shine with tiny specks of diamonds, and would compliment the stars already in his eyes. The softness of the boys eyelashes lightly gracing the delicate skin on his face. The boy would always look angelic, no matter what he did. 

The visits to the playground started off as a rebellious act of immature and young children who rejected rules. The boys, no younger than eight years old, would spend nights in the park, playing games and laughing. The innocence of youth manifesting into the childish activities the boys would engage in simply because they dismissed bedtimes. The young kids had always believed they would be each others soulmates.

As the years passed, they began to sneak out to run and play less and less. The two boys had, much like many young teenagers of thirteen, renounced the juvenile play, claiming that they were above acting like children. Always in a hurry to grow up. Their laughing and running morphed into talking and gossiping. The playground that supplied them with the perfect paradise for their youth uprising was used simply for the reason that there was no where else they wanted to walk. 

When time flowed on, their nighttime visits became a rarity. The boys were preoccupied with school, work, girls, other friends, life. Yoongi rarely made his journey to Hoseok’s house to rap on the familiar window. Oftentimes, he found himself sneaking out to the playground alone. The naive vision of how Yoongi’s younger self dreamed his life would be like as a teenager was haunting to him. He used the playground as a place for him to sit, smoke, stare at the sky and think. He was often inspired by the stars and the little patterns he would often find in them. They always reminded him of the friend he knew he would forever have. All of the stars in the sky twinkling as bright as the happiness and innocence Yoongi saw in Hoseok’s eyes. 

On the nights when the boys would go to the park together, they wouldn’t fill up their time with pointless childhood games. Instead, they would talk. Sometimes it would be conversations filled with shallow comments about other acquaintances from school. Other times, they would talk about things that mattered. Those nights were rare, but Yoongi thought of them as his most special and treasured memories. They would talk about their futures and their roles in each others futures. They talked about college, and how they were going to make their friendship last. They made promises about how they would never leave each other. 

Now, as Yoongi passes away from the renovated house, he thinks about that little boy with the stars in his eyes. The distant sound of children laughing fueling the nostalgia he held for the idle town he got caught in. 

When was the last time Yoongi had seen him? It was less and less frequently after they entered high school. The social current pulled them away from each other, like driftwood floating around in the ocean. No childhood promise can properly withstand the strain that being an adolescent has on it.

Yoongi reminisced about the monumental events that shaped their lives and how intertwined and connected he believed their stories were. Now that he’s older, he sees that their paths were no more than briefly crossing each others while they fought through and discovered their own identities. 

The feeling that brewed deep in Yoongi’s chest was nothing more than just the bittersweet needle of nostalgia that came along with the tour of his old town. A slightly dusty and metallic wind blew his bangs away from his face, gracing his overheated body. 

As if Yoongi’s feet had a mind of their own, they continued their trek, dragging Yoongi down the side streets like muscle memory. The old elementary school had long since been torn down and replaced with a rec center, but Yoongi still admired the space that used to occupy his days. He saw the large oak tree by the far side of the lot where the kids used to go and climb at recesses. It was still standing tall and strong, the same way it had did many years ago with numerous little children handing and swinging on it. 

His mind flashed with an abundance of old memories that he thought he had forgotten. He began to remember the faces of the kids he would laugh with, and the teachers who would scold him. He remembered having his first kiss underneath that tree with a sweet, young girl in his grade who had always worn pig tails. The reminiscences became even more vivid. 

Yoongi stopped for a third time in the middle of the street, directly outside where his old home used to stand. Sure it could never compare to these fancy, white, pillared, two-story houses that had replaced them, but the old, beaten down building was where his life laid.

He remembered the night when he was pulled from his sleep by the gentle tapping sound of a knuckle against his window. The curiosity of seeing Jung Hoseok outside his house. The sick and upset feeling that spread through his body like a fatal disease, numbing his fingers and toes as he was told the news that his childhood best friend was, in fact, leaving him. 

Almost as if the universe had it in for Yoongi all this time, the only person that he had ever truly cared about and trusted was being ripped from his cold fingers. What was the point in loving a person if they were bound to leave and break your heart in the end? The pain of the disease that was plaguing Yoongi’s mind got worse and worse. It was physically driving Yoongi insane. 

It would have been easier to have just let the younger boy cry alone by himself that day on the school yard. Then he would have spared himself the ache of being left behind in the boring, hollow town that held no more reasons for Yoongi to stay. 

After everything that they had planed, all of the promises and the intentions that they told themselves they would keep until the day they died, Hoseok still moved on. Yoongi had been forgotten completely, left in the dust as Hoseok had the opportunity to create his own life. 

Perhaps, the moral of the story is that some things just can’t work out the way they do in juvenile minds. 

It was almost as if Yoongi could still hear their small voices those nights in that playground when they were no older than eight years old.

“We’ll always be friends, right?”

“Always.”

[sparklydreamies]

Best Shot ~Ch 3

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 7900+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about.

Main themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

a/n: So much for this fic just being skz, I’m now making it skz featuring the whole JYP family lmao,, I’m so happy about this chapter, the story is finally kicking off ;) Y’all can expect a lot of internalized homophobia because who doesn’t experience that... anyways, thank you guys for taking the time to read this, I’m sorry it took so long, but I am very proud of this chapter!! :))

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3

Jisung often found it a little bit difficult to fall asleep, but for some reason, it was getting harder and harder. Countless nights that he should have spent in deep sleep were spent scrolling through Twitter and Youtube, simply because it was so hard for Jisung to find a way to shut his brain off. He didn’t know why he found his brain racing during the nighttime. He tried giving up the coffee that he normally drinks in the morning, but all that did was make him doze off during class. 

Not being able to fall asleep every single night causes a certain type of hopeless frustration in someone. Jisung felt himself getting more and more irritated with every passing day of not sleeping nearly enough for a teenage boy. 

Jisung had dozed off during his classes multiple times within the week that he couldn’t fall asleep. He often would find his eyelids getting heavier during important lectures and lessons. He couldn’t help it. 

Jisung’s class was given biology work to complete on their own one day, however Jisung found himself blacking out for seconds at a time. He kept telling himself in his head to wake up, slap yourself, open your eyes, do your work, but it was to no avail. He just kept drifting, and drifting, and drifting...

“Jisung?” Jisung snapped his head upright to the sound of his teacher, Mr. Kim’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

Jisung rubbed his eyes a little bit before straightening himself up in his chair. “Yeah, of course it is,” he said, picking up his pencil, “why?”

“Well,” Mr Kim started, “I’ve been noticing that you’ve been sort of... distant these past few days, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” 

Jisung nodded his head, “yeah I’m okay, I’ve just been having a bit of trouble sleeping is all,” 

Mr. Kim nodded his head. Jisung figured he understood that since he teaches all sorts of students in higher grades and levels. Jisung thought that almost none of them have good sleeping schedules. 

“Jisung, why don’t you take the rest of the class period to just lay down in the nurse’s office?” Mr. Kim suggested, and judging by the fact that the man was completely blurry to him, Jisung figured it was a half decent idea. That was one of the things Jisung loved about Mr. Kim. One could tell that he really cared about the students that sat in his classroom. Not like most teachers that would just scold Jisung for not sleeping when he should.

So, that is how he ended up on his way down to the school nurse’s office, dragging himself down the slightly dingy and empty hallways of his school. 

The nurse, Mrs. Lee was a nice lady. Jisung had only seen her once before, and that was when he fainted after doing suicides in gym class during his freshman year. 

Mrs. Lee was kind enough to let Jisung rest for a minute on the cot that was in the side room of her office. It was lumpy and uncomfortable, but since Jisung was practically turning into a nocturnal animal, he found it was like sleeping on a cloud. 

Jisung dozed off to the sound of Mrs. Lee scratching something down on her notepad and making quiet phone calls. 

He was woken up about half an hour later by the bell, indicating that it was lunch hour. He had half a mind to stay there and sleep some more since he was so comfortable, but he knew that Felix and Seungmin would be waiting for him. So, with heavy limbs, Jisung rose from the bed, thanked Mrs. Kim, and made his way into the crowded hallways towards his locker. 

“Jisung!” Jisung heard his name being shouted from behind him, and when he turned around, he was greeted with the bright, smiling face of Hwang Hyunjin. Jisung waited for Hyunjin to catch up to him before he continued walking to his locker. “Hey, what’s going on?” 

Jisung shrugged and chuckled a bit at him. “Nothing really, how about you?” 

“Same,” Hyunjin said. The two boys turned down the hallway where Jisung’s locker was. “You look rough today,” he said.

Jisung scoffed at him, “I look rough everyday,” he countered, giving a small giggle.

Hyunjin shoved Jisung a little bit, “you’re not supposed to agree with me,” they arrived at Jisung’s locker, and he began typing in the code to unlock it.

“Hyunjin, you look rough everyday, I just wanted to fit in with you,” Jisung mocked.

“That’s better,” the boys laughed at each other’s childish ways. Jisung thought about how it seemed like they never even had a falling out. “By the way Jisung,” Hyunjin continued, “my mom was really happy when I told her we started talking again,”

Jisung cooed at him, “you talk about me to your mom? That’s so cute,” he teased. 

“Hey, just be glad I didn’t tell her why we started talking again,” he warned. Jisung put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. Jisung really didn’t want the other boy’s mother to know that he had to get driven home from a party, blackout drunk. “Anyways, I wanted to talk to you because she wanted me to invite you guys over for dinner tonight. Are you free?” Hyunjin asked. 

“I mean my dad’s working, but yeah I think we’re free,” Jisung answered. Hyunjin gave him a smile. Jisung had missed Hyunjin’s smile. 

“Great!” he said, clapping his hands together, “I’ll see you guys at eight?” Jisung nodded his head. 

Just then, Jisung heard somebody calling Hyunjin’s name. Jisung looked over to see it was Bang Chan and Seo Changbin. They were both wearing the same red varsity jackets that Hyunjin was also wearing. 

“Hyunjin, you coming?” they called, and Hyunjin yelled a yes back to them. 

“Do you want to come get some lunch with us?” Hyunjin offered, pointing over to where his friends were standing. 

Jisung shook his head, “nah, Felix and Seungmin are probably wondering where I am,” Hyunjin nodded in understanding, “thanks though, maybe another time,” 

“Sure,” Hyunjin agreed, walking backwards towards his friends, “see you tonight!” 

Jisung gave him a little wave of his own. Not only were Felix and Seungmin waiting for him, but Jisung also was hesitant to go because he felt very awkward around most of the basketball team. To him, it was like social class distance. Of course he didn’t feel weird with Hyunjin or Minho now, but the thought of being an outcast in a social situation with boys like Chan, Changbin, Jeongin or any of the other members of the team made him feel nauseous. 

Jisung made his way to the table in the cafeteria where he, Felix and Seungmin always sat. He could see from a distance that the two boys were already there, and obviously in deep conversation. 

When Jisung got into earshot, he heard Seungmin say “Bullshit, Felix,”

“Dude no, I’m being serious!” Felix argued, leaning so far over the table that his chest was close to touching the questionably clean surface. 

“What’s happening?” Jisung asked as he sat down next to Seungmin. 

“Felix apparently got a date with Kim Dahyun,” Seungmin said, shrugging. “I’m calling bullshit,”

“It’s not bullshit!” Felix groaned, “okay so Jisung, picture this,” Felix started, “we’re in first period, right? History. Teacher pairs kids up for a critical thinking activity, and who am I paired with? Oh yeah, Kim Dahyun,” Felix said, emphasizing her name and staring intensely at Seungmin who is trying hard to keep a straight face. 

“So we’re working hard, right? And close to the end of class I tell her that I know this really nice ice cream parlor that’s run by my cousin, and I ask her if she wanted to go with me sometime, and she actually fucking says yes,” he finishes, hitting Seungmin in the side of the arm.

“Felix, Dahyun is a pretty, smart, funny girl, why the hell would she want to go out with you?” Seungmin argued, breaking into a smile closer to the end of the sentence. 

“Because I’m fucking whimsical, that’s why.” Felix answered. 

“If there’s anything I know, it’s that Felix is whimsical as hell,” Jisung agreed. Felix slammed his hand down on the table. 

“See?” he asked Seungmin. 

“Alright fine,” Seungmin gave up, “I guess I just don’t like the fact that Felix got an actual human girl to go out with him before I did, and he didn’t even have to use force,” Jisung laughed at him. Seungmin let out a yelp, “Felix stop goddamn kicking me!” he groaned, lowering himself to rub at his shin. 

“Anyways, Dahyun also told me something very interesting,” Felix said, wiggling his eyebrows at Jisung. 

Jisung waited a beat of awkward eyebrow dancing before asking “what is it, Felix?”

“She told me that her friend, Im Nayeon, got a little bit friendly with one of my good friends, Han Jisung,” he teased. Jisung felt himself blush at the comment. “Oh my god, you’re all red! How come you didn’t tell us?” Felix whined.

Seungmin turned himself a full ninety degrees and faced Jisung. “What the hell, you made out with Im Nayeon? I had a class with her last year!” he said, hitting Jisung in the chest. 

Jisung felt flustered at all of the commotion about this. He never even thought about telling them he kissed Nayeon, he was more focused on the whole situation with Minho and Hyunjin. 

“I didn’t know it was that big of a deal,” Jisung said, trying to shield himself away from Seungmin’s fists. 

“Not that big of a deal?” Felix accused. 

Jisung found it so confusing that Felix and Seungmin were this worked up about it. Jisung hadn’t even thought about the kiss since it happened. Maybe he was just too distracted to let it sink in that he made out with a girl. 

“I’m so disappointed in you,” Seungmin laughed at him. Jisung rolled his eyes. 

The bell to end lunch rang throughout the school, and the boys began to pack their things up. 

“We are not done talking about this,” Felix warned, wagging a small finger at Jisung. 

Jisung sighed. He knew they weren’t.

----

That night, Jisung told his family about what happened with Hyunjin and how they were invited for dinner. Jisung’s mom was very happy that Jisung made up with Hyunjin. She said she was happy that he was being more social, but Jisung knew she was just happy to have a charming and handsome boy like Hyunjin back in her life to fawn over. 

Chaeryeong on the other hand stared at Jisung dumbfounded for a second before racing up the stairs to get herself ready. 

“You know that it’s just casual, right?” Jisung yelled after her. 

She answered back a quick “doesn’t matter!” before closing her door on him. 

Jisung decided to shower and get changed before going over to Hyunjin’s place. He wanted to make a good impression on Hyunjin’s family again, since they haven’t really had a conversation together since Jisung and Hyunjin were freshmen. 

When 8:00 came, Jisung called out to his family members that it was time to leave. The walk over to Hyunjin’s house was filled with Jisung’s mom talking about how nice it would be to see Hyunjin again, and how she’d seen him around the town and he looked even more handsome than she remembered. Chaeryeong was agreeing with everything his mother said, especially with the part about Hyunjin being handsome. 

Hyunjin’s parents were just as welcoming as Jisung remembered them to be. Jisung had always thought of the Hwangs as his second family, and once he arrived, he felt the same level of comfort that he had always experienced when he was a kid. 

Before dinner, Hyunjin led Jisung and Chaeryeong into the living room while their parents talked and drank wine in the kitchen. Much like with Hyunjin’s car, Jisung could easily tell the Hwang family’s wealth from the way they decorate their house. The living room was spacious, with a large TV and a very modern design. Jisung enjoyed being over at the Hwangs. 

“So Chaeryeong, how’s your first year of high school?” Hyunjin asked once they got settled, and Chaeryeong gave him a massive smile. 

“Oh, it’s great,” she said, “I’m really happy that you two made up, I missed coming over here,” Chaeryeong said, and Hyunjin rubbed his neck awkwardly, looking at Jisung.

“Actually Chaeryeong, it’s not that we had a fight or anything, we technically didn’t make up...” Hyunjin trailed off, looking to Jisung for help explaining the situation. 

“Yeah, it was more like we just sort of drifted apart,” Jisung supplied. Chaeryeong nodded her head in understanding. 

“Do you guys want to go outside?” Hyunjin offered, changing the subject, “it’s boring in here,” 

Jisung and Chaeryeong agreed to going outside. The house was stuffy and warm, and it was such a nice night out anyways. 

When they got out into the backyard, Chaeryeong ran over to where she saw Hyunjin’s basketball and basketball hoop. She excitedly picked up the ball. “Hyunjin, you’re so good at basketball,” she complimented. Jisung rolled his eyes at her. “Can you teach me to shoot?” she asked, and Hyunjin smiled and agreed. 

She threw him the ball and he dribbled it on the cement of his backyard three times before raising it, bending his knees and shooting the ball straight into the hoop. Chaeryeong clapped for him. 

“You see, it’s all about balance and aim,” he said, chasing after the ball to show Chaeryeong. “Try this,” he said, and gave her the ball. He explained to her how she should stand, and how she should hold the ball. 

Jisung thought it looked like a scene out of a drama. If he was right, this would be the moment they would lock eyes and fall in love. However, in real life, the boy would let go of her hands and let her try and shoot, which Hyunjin did.

Chaeryeong released the ball, and it flew through the air, hitting the backboard of the net. It bounced back down to the ground and over to where Hyunjin was standing.

“That was really good!” He praised, “you have good aim, you just need to work on your form. There’s a certain technique that you learn over time that helps the ball get into the net instead of just hitting the backboard”.

Chaeryoung agreed with him, and tried again, this time hitting the rim of the net. She was closer this time, but still unsuccessful. 

“Jisung, why don’t you try?” Hyunjin offered, passing the ball to Jisung. 

Jisung took the ball, but was sort of hesitant to try. Jisung was not necessarily a sporty kid, and he knew he would look stupid if he didn’t even hit the backboard. 

“Come on, try it,” Hyunjin coaxed, and Jisung finally agreed to try. “You heard what I told Chaeryeong, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jisung answered, and Hyunjin told him how to stand properly. 

“Now for your hands,” Hyunjin moved Jisung’s hands so that one was supporting behind and one was supporting the side of the ball. “Perfect, that looks really good, Jisung” 

Hyunjin backed away from Jisung enough to give the boy room to shoot the ball. Jisung concentrated on watching the net, bent his knees, and jumped while releasing the ball like he saw Hyunjin do earlier. 

The ball floated through the air, hit the side of the rim, and bounced into the net. 

“You got it!” Hyunjin praised, patting Jisung in the back with the stupidest grin on his face. Jisung was also smiling. He may not be good at sports usually, but it was nice to feel like he was sometimes. 

“How the hell did Jisung do better than me?” Chaeryeong teased, jogging to go grab the ball from where it fell. 

“Hey you shoot like that, you might as well join the team,” Hyunjin joked, shaking Jisung’s shoulders. 

“Kids, dinner’s on the table!” Jisung heard Hyunjin’s mother yell from the window. Hyunjin yelled back a confirmation, and they began to head inside.

“You know Jisung,” Hyunjin started, “I’m not actually joking about you joining the team,”

Jisung choked on air. “You think that I could join the basketball team?” Jisung laughed at him. “Did you hit your head?”.

How on earth could Jisung play basketball? That shot was obviously beginners luck, he had no actual skill, he barely knew how to play the game.

“I’m serious! Dowoon is out for the rest of the season because he broke his leg, so there’s an open spot,” Hyunjin explained.

“Jesus, a guy from your team is out because he’s injured, and you think that would make me want to join?” Jisung said, disbelievingly. 

“It was an unrelated injury,” Jisung rolled his eyes, “I’m not kidding, it’s too late to have tryouts, and we need numbers to win the championship this year,” 

“Hyunjin, you realize I don’t know anything about basketball?” Jisung leaned against the side of the house and crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, why do you want me instead of somebody else at school that might actually know how to dribble a ball properly?”

Hyunjin sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, you don’t have to, but I want to be able to spend more time with you now that we’re friends again,” he said, “I can help you- sort of train you if you want, and I already know Minho’s going to like having you on the team,”

Jisung thought about it. For some reason, Jisung wanted to be closer to Minho. He wanted to be Minho’s friend. He also agreed with Hyunjin; he wanted to do more things together. Basketball didn’t seem like that difficult of a sport, you just had to get the ball into the net, how hard could it be? 

“Plus,” Hyunjin continued after a beat, “you don’t even really have to play that much, we really just need another body on our bench,”

Jisung couldn’t believe he was considering playing basketball. He saw the way Hyunjin’s eyes lit up when he was talking about the two of them on the team together. Jisung could see that he was happy. 

“Oh damnit,” Jisung sighed at Hyunjin, “I’ll consider it,” 

“Really?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung saw that his eyes were sparkly and bright. Jisung thought it almost gave Hyunjin an innocent glow. The positivity radiating off of Hyunjin made Jisung smile. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “Now let’s go eat, I’m hungry,”

----

That night was the first time in a week that Jisung was able to sleep for more than two hours. 

Jisung didn’t know what changed, or why he suddenly was able to shut his brain off, but he was thankful he could. He figured that with Hyunjin trying to get him to join the basketball team it would be harder to sleep, but if anything, that night was the deepest he’s slept in weeks. Maybe it was the fact that Jisung’s brain wanted to fuck him up all week, only to give him the proper rest that he needs on the Friday night, when he knows he won’t be doing anything important on the Saturday.

Jisung knew what Felix and Seungmin would say if he asked them. They would want him to join the team. Not for the thrill of playing basketball, but for the popularity and the girls. All of them knew that the boys on the basketball team could get whatever girl they wanted, but Jisung didn’t want that sort of power. 

He knew what Chaeryeong would say. She would want him to join the team so that she could be known as the girl who’s brother is on the varsity boys basketball team.

He also knew that his mother would be against it. She knows what those basketball boys do. She still vividly remembers her son coming home at three in the morning, blackout drunk. She wouldn’t want that type of lifestyle to determine her son’s future. 

Oddly enough, the fact that his mom would want him not to is what makes Jisung want to join the team the most.

And of course, he knew what joining the team would mean to Hyunjin. Quite frankly, Jisung was touched that Hyunjin would want to spend more time with him so much that he would take it upon himself to teach Jisung how to play an entire sport. Not only just to teach him, but to make him good enough that their team has a chance at winning the championship again, even if he only played a few times all season.

Jisung knew how much this championship meant to Minho, thanks to their conversation the week prior. Jisung smiled while he thought back to that day. He liked the feeling of talking to Minho. He was kind, and he was sweet, and Jisung could tell that he wasn’t the same person that people believed through their little stereotypes. 

It sounded really weird and strange to Jisung, but all he wanted to do was to get closer to Minho. 

Jisung knew that there was no harm in at least trying to fit in with the team. Right?

----

Jisung was torn. On one hand, he didn’t know a single thing about basketball, and he was so afraid to make a fool out of himself and the team if he joined. But on the other hand, he wanted the opportunity to spend more time with Hyunjin and Minho. It was a dilemma. 

The last thing Jisung wanted was to take his focus away from studying. Jisung had always lived by the idea that nothing was more important than school. He had wanted to do a lot of things over the years, but he had never really had the motivation to try. He didn’t want to go through his life without experiencing things, because he was deathly afraid of waking up in ten years to realize that his life had no value. Maybe basketball could help with that. 

Jisung had always been told that the friendships, experiences and memories that were essential to a teenage life could be created by putting yourself out there, taking risks, getting involved and trying new things, but he had never bothered. Maybe he was always just satisfied with his friendships with Felix and Seungmin that he didn’t feel the need to try new things. 

Jisung thought about why he was so hung up on it. Part of him wondered if it was because he was worried that he was missing out on the amazing teenage life that he had always expected growing up. Thinking about it, most of the cheesy high school movies he used to watch glorified the athletes and social butterflies, and called the people that don’t have a lot of friends and don’t belong to clubs the “social outcasts”. 

Minho was a social butterfly. He had girls lined up down the block for him. He never went a weekend without doing something fun. Even though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why, Jisung wanted to be his friend. He wanted to make Minho laugh. Minho was such a desirable friend. 

Jisung thought that Minho was mysterious. Like there were layers to him that nobody could understand. The image that Jisung got about Minho a few weeks ago was so different from the image he got after the party, and then again after they had that conversation after school. Jisung wanted to tear down those fake images he gets about Minho. He wanted Minho to trust him. 

Jisung snapped out of those thoughts. He still had a dilemma. Should he join the basketball team? 

Life is full of risks and opportunities that you sometimes just have to take. 

Jisung sent Hyunjin a text. 

Me: If the offer is still up, I think I’d like to join the team

Me: THAT IS, if you’ll be willing to coach me :))

----

Of course, Hyunjin was ecstatic that Jisung agreed to join the team. The boys agreed to meet up every Tuesday and Saturday, which staggered nicely with the team’s official practices. 

When Jisung told Felix and Seungmin during lunch on the following Monday, they were Hyunjin’s ecstatic times one thousand. 

“You joined the basketball team?” Felix shouted in the middle of the cafeteria, causing a number of heads to turn in confusion. Jisung hid his face in his hands. 

“Yes,” was his small response, “but I’m not really going to be playing that much, so don’t get too excited,” 

Felix scoffed at him. He was grinning from ear to ear, beaming with the new found possibilities of what having a friend on the basketball team could be. “I don’t care if you play one game all season, you are going to be on the basketball team!”

Seungmin pinched Jisung in the arm. “Maybe once you get that nice ass varsity jacket, you can properly ask out Nayeon,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously at Jisung. 

The latter choked on his lunch, “why do you assume I want to ask out Nayeon?” he asked.

Felix gave Jisung a look that was basically asking if he was the dumbest person ever, “because you sucked her face and last time I checked, you don’t have a girlfriend,” 

“That’s because I don’t want a girlfriend,” Jisung countered.

“That’s because you can’t get a girlfriend,” Seungmin teased, laughing and giving Felix a high five. Jisung just rolled his eyes. 

If there’s anything Jisung knew, it was that he could get a date solely based off his looks. He has always been asked out and adored by girls at their school, but no matter how much they tried to get his attention, it wouldn’t make him want a girlfriend any more than he already does. 

“Speaking of girlfriends,” Felix said, “I have my date with Dahyun on Friday,” 

Seungmin laughed as he ate. “Don’t screw it up,” he warned. 

As Felix was cursing out Seungmin, Jisung thought about how happy it makes him that somebody is appreciating Felix. 

The bell rang some time after that, and the boys left to get to class. 

Jisung spent the entire rest of the day worrying about what was to come after school. Hyunjin told him that he should come by and join the team for their practice after school, where Minho will hopefully agree to let Jisung join the team. 

Jisung was terrified, to say the least. He didn’t have any time to learn the basics with Hyunjin, he only knew general rules from elementary school gym classes. Now he’s kicking himself for not taking those pointless classes seriously.

When the bell rang after last period, Jisung felt a spike of anxiety. Thankfully, he had his last period class with Hyunjin, which meant he didn’t have to make his way to the gym change rooms himself. 

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin asked, packing up the last of his notes and shoving them messily into his school bag. 

Jisung was anything but ready. “Yeah,” he answered, feigning confidence. Hyunjin gave him a wide smile, and led him out the door. 

“Nervous?” Hyunjin asked over the sound of the crowded halls. 

“A little bit,” Jisung answered. Jisung grabbed onto Hyunjin’s backpack, trying to stay close to him while they walked through the school’s main hallway. It didn’t help that the walls were lined with lockers, all with students opening and loitering by them. 

“Don’t be,” Hyunjin said, once they turned down the gym hallway. “Remember one thing,” he commented as they walked down the less populated hallway, “these boys won’t bite. They aren’t here to try and push you down, I’ve talked you up really nicely, and I think they are all looking forward to you joining the team,” 

Jisung smiled at him. One of his biggest fears was that these boys would think he was a joke. Hyunjin had a nice way of making him feel calmer. Safer.

“Plus, Minho’s the only one who can make the final decision about whether or not you join, and he’s very non-judgmental,” Hyunjin added on as they arrived at a heavy door marked Changing Room 3.

Hyunjin swung open the door without a second thought, and Jisung followed him in, feeling the wave of anxiety freeze his blood and sink his stomach. 

The wooden bench along the walls of the change room were littered with boys that Jisung had seen around school often. They were all talking while stripping off their school uniforms, and replacing them with the usual basketball uniform. Jisung was surprised to find that nobody even batted an eye at the sight of a strange, skinny, new kid invading their changing space. 

Hyunjin nonchalantly took a seat in the back corner, beckoning for Jisung to follow him. Jisung took the cue, and dodged around the backpacks left on the floor to get to Hyunjin. 

"So we just,” Jisung paused, glancing quickly around the room of teenage boys, “get dressed here? In front of everyone?” he asked quietly, trying to avoid the attention of the unfamiliar boys. 

Hyunjin gave him a chuckle. “Yeah, unless you want to change in the hallway,” he answered. 

The thought of getting changed in front of these boys made Jisung blush. He took Hyunjin’s lead, and slowly tried to wiggle all of his clothes off, so he could change into the set of workout clothes he brought from home. 

“So, what do you think we’ll have to do today?”  Jisung asked Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin took a second to pull his shirt off of his head before answering “Minho is the one who runs the practices. He knows that you are coming though, so I told him not to make it too complicated today,” 

Jisung sighed in relief as he finished getting dressed by tying his running shoes. “You know Hyunjin, I am not even interested in playing that much, I really just want to be... a benchwarmer,” Jisung said. 

Hyunjin gave a little bit of a laugh. “I told him to make it simple for today, but after you begin your training with coach Hwang, I told him you’ll be improving and ready to play in no time,” 

Jisung was shocked at the other boy. “You told him what? Hyunjin, I told you that I didn’t want to really play, I just want to be a spare,”

“And you won’t really play! At least not until you develop the skills,”

Jisung was about to argue back when suddenly, the door to the changeroom swung open, and Jisung saw Lee Minho calling the team into the gym. 

“We’ll talk later,” Hyunjin promised, standing up to leave with the rest of the boys. 

Jisung hurried to catch up with him, “I thought we agreed I won’t be playing a lot! Hyunjin don’t undermine me,” he warned, following a giggling Hyunjin through the double doors and into the gym. 

All of the other boys began doing various warm-ups, stretching their muscles, and setting up the stands of basketballs. Jisung felt very out of place with them, but that was nothing unexpected. He suddenly got the thought that he didn’t belong there. He didn’t even know how to warm himself up.

He turned towards Hyunjin for reassurance, who just smiled and led him to one side of the court, where Chan and Changbin were talking amongst themselves. 

“Hey guys,” Hyunjin called, walking over to the two other boys. Hyunjin looked like he was calm and collected, whereas Jisung felt like his whole body was on fire. 

“I see you brought Dowoon’s replacement with you,” Bang Chan said, nodding at Jisung and smiling. Jisung calmed down slightly and felt the tension inside him ease when he realized Chan was joking around with him. 

Jisung gave a small, awkward wave and mumbled a small greeting. 

The four of them began talking a little bit about Jisung, filling him in on what usually happens during these practices. From what Jisung gathers, practices usually consist of a cardio warm up, a few drills, some positioning plays practice, and then finally some muscle training and a cool down. It didn’t seem too hard, except for the fact that Jisung wasn’t good at cardio, he didn’t have the majority of the skills required for the drills, he didn’t understand basketball plays and he didn’t have very much muscle. 

Nevertheless, Jisung made a vow to himself that he would do his best and try hard this practice. People always talk about how you can do anything that you work hard for, so why can’t Jisung play basketball? 

Jisung was snapped out of the conversation by a sharp whistle. He turned his head to see Lee Minho standing in the middle of the face-off circle, calling for the team to gather around him. 

Jisung and Hyunjin made their way towards the center. It was then that Jisung made eye contact with Minho, who gave him an encouraging smile. Jisung smiled back. He was happy that Minho didn’t seem like a harsh and mean leader. 

“Okay guys,” Minho called, grabbing the attention of the team, “we all know the unfortunate incident that happened with Dowoon, and though we will miss him for the remainder of the season, it still must go on,” he started, and Jisung heard some of the boys begin to whoop when Minho said that. “That means we have an open spot on this team, and since we already held try-outs this year, Hyunjin took the opportunity to invite a friend to help us. Everybody, this is Han Jisung,” Minho said, gesturing towards Jisung. 

One or two of the boys whooped for Jisung after that, which made him a little bit shy. Hyunjin bumped Jisung lightly on the shoulder. Minho gave Jisung a welcoming smile, which made Jisung’s heart flutter, for some reason. 

Practice started with running laps as a warm up, and then they moved onto skill developmental drills. Jisung fumbled the ball a few times, made some off shots, but overall he was genuinely not that bad. 

Throughout practice, Jisung got small words of encouragement from Hyunjin and Minho, as well as thumbs up from other members of the team, particularly Youngjae. Choi Youngjae was widely known to be a very nice and sweet kid, so it didn’t surprise Jisung. 

“Hey Jisung,” Minho called to him once practice finished. The rest of the boys all made their way back to the change room. 

Jisung walked over to Minho, feeling extra gross and sweaty. His hair felt like it was plastered to his forehead, and even though his body temperature is boiling, the sweat on his body gives him chills. 

“Welcome to the team,” Minho said, smiling as he extended his hand out for Jisung to shake. Jisung was very happy, and excitedly took Minho’s hand and shook it. 

Jisung never even processed how much the idea of being on the team grew on him until he heard those words coming from his new captain's mouth. 

“Are you serious?” Jisung beamed. Minho gave him a pat on the shoulder as he gave him a confirming head nod. 

“But, you’ll still have to work hard if you want playing time this year,” Minho told him, leading Jisung towards the change rooms. 

“Of course,” Jisung agreed. 

“I think this is going to be a great season, Jisung,” Minho predicted, “I’m glad you took the jump and joined the team, I know Hyunjin said you were hesitant...” he trailed off.

Jisung noticed the way that Minho’s eyes gleamed, and the sweat made his skin sparkle. It wasn’t the first time that Jisung marveled at the boy’s handsomeness, but it feels like it. Jisung could never get over how smooth and pretty Minho’s skin was, or how it looked like Minho’s dark eyes reflected the rich warmth of the sun. Jisung thought he felt warm. 

It was then that it hit Jisung. His mind was flicking from one thought to the next, and before he knew it, he was thinking about how soft Minho’s lips looked. 

He snapped out of that thought, and saw Minho give a confused look. Jisung must have jumped a little bit at the shocking thoughts about his friend. 

“Jisung, are you okay?” Minho asked, placing a comforting hand on Jisung’s bare arm. Jisung felt his skin burn where Minho touched it, and his arm muscles tensed up. 

“Yeah,” he assured as they got to the change room door, “just the chills,” he excused, pushing open the heavy door and making his way to where Hyunjin was. 

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows in expectation, and Jisung realized he was asking what Minho said. Jisung smiled at him and nodded his head. 

“Yes!” Hyunjin celebrated. Jisung really appreciated how happy Hyunjin was that they will be playing basketball together. 

Jisung tried to engage himself in conversation with Hyunjin about everybody's positions and the team’s plays they used in the games, but Jisung was still hung up on the thought of Minho. 

----

That night, Jisung had a tough time shutting his brain off. All he could think about was why he reacted so harshly when he thought about Minho’s lips. It was nothing that out of the ordinary, he was just thinking about Minho’s face. He thought about Minho’s eyes, his nose, his skin, his hair, his laugh, everything, but for some reason, he felt guilty while thinking about his lips. 

Jisung figured that thinking about another guy’s lips seemed wrong. It just seemed weird. Usually, when a guy thinks about lips, they usually think about wanting to kiss those lips. And, those lips usually belong to a girl. 

Jisung tested out a theory. He thought about Nayeon, the girl he kissed at the party. He remembered her starry eyes, smooth and pale skin, and her lips that were soft and pink, pressed against his. He remembered how it felt, and what she tasted like, and even the pressure of her body flush against his in the dark hallway, but he still felt nothing. He might as well have been thinking about his school work. 

Then, Jisung cautiously thought about Minho’s lips. He thought the same thing that he thought earlier that day. They are some of the softest and prettiest lips Jisung has seen on any boy. Immediately, he felt his cheeks heat up in a blush. He felt dizzy as he thought about Minho. He imagined how smooth his skin must be. He imagined touching it. Suddenly, without his permission, Jisung’s mind trailed to what Minho’s lips would feel like when he kissed him, and he shot up in bed. 

He didn’t know what type of emotion he was feeling, but it felt like adrenaline, guilt, excitement, and fear all wrapped up in one. He was panting hard, trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, Jisung understood what people meant in all of those love songs and romance movies he used to watch. He feels a spark; he feels dizzy; he feels drunk. 

And it is terrifying.

Jisung snapped back to reality. He was having thoughts about kissing another boy. Not a girl, but a boy. Was he gay? He couldn’t be gay. He didn’t know why, but he just knew that he wasn’t gay. 

Jisung was confused and scared at this revelation. How could he face Minho again? Minho had been so kind and welcoming to him, and Jisung repays him by imagining gross scenarios filled with subconscious, perverted thoughts. 

There has to be someone he can go to for help. Someone that can help him figure out his feelings, because he can’t deal with them on his own. Jisung could never talk to Felix or Seungmin because he was too worried that they’d think he was weird, or gross, or something like that. Obviously he couldn’t tell Minho or Hyunjin. Chaeryeong would end his entire life if she found out her brother was having homosexual thoughts. His mother would disown him if he was anything other than straight. 

Then it hit him. Myoui Mina was a girl in his grade, and she was openly bisexual. Jisung had never really thought to talk to her or try and get close to her, not because he didn’t think that it was okay for her to like girls, but just because he was never really interested in making more friends. 

Jisung had a few classes with her over the years, and from what he could tell, she was a very kind person. Jisung also knows that after she came out freshman year, she suffered all kinds of bullying. Jisung had heard about the horror stories about her locker getting the D slur written on it in permanent marker, and the rumors that she hooked up with a thirteen year old girl. Of course Jisung never believed it, but people can be outright vicious when they want to be. 

Jisung assumed that if anyone would be trustworthy and possibly helpful to him, it would be Myoui Mina. 

So, he made up his mind to talk to her the next day, and ask her for advice. What did he have to lose?

----

When the bell rang for lunch, Jisung immediately doubted his plan to ask Mina for advice. He felt himself begin to shake as he saw her across the hall from where he was, talking to a girl he doesn’t know. 

Jisung thought about the night before, how gross it felt having those thoughts about Minho, which gave him the confidence he needed to catch up to Mina. 

When Jisung got to where she was walking, she bid her friend goodbye as she stopped and opened a locker, Jisung figures it probably belongs to her. Mina’s friend kept walking down the hall, which Jisung was thankful for. 

Now or never. 

“Uhm.. Hi Mina,” he greeted, leaning against the locker beside her in an attempt to look less awkward and panicked. 

She was a little bit startled from the sudden guy beside her, but her gaze softened when she saw it was Jisung. 

“Han Jisung? What’s going on?” she asked, grabbing her bag out of her locker and leaving her school books inside.

Jisung took a breath. He was scared to tell anybody about his situation, which he thought would be understandable. He doesn’t think that coming to terms with something like this would be easy for anybody. 

“Uhm..” he starts. Suddenly, he begins to shake slightly again, finding it hard to breathe.

“Are you okay?” She asks, closing her locker and giving him a concerned look. 

“Can we talk... in private?” he asked, and she gave him a confused nod. The two of them began to walk in silence, Mina leading him outside to the bleachers on the side of the running track. Nobody ever sat there, so Jisung saw that it was a perfect spot for this conversation. 

“Not gonna lie, you’re kind of freaking me out,” Mina says, sitting down on the metal bench. Jisung joins her and stares intently at the track in front of them. He likes sitting here because he didn’t have to look at her in the eyes while he told her his biggest secret. “I know we don’t really know each other, but something’s obviously wrong,” she said. 

“Mina...” he started. The air outside was cool, which was hardly unusual for early-mid October. There was a breeze that supplied Jisung with more oxygen. He took a deep inhale of the refreshing air, and bit his lip. “When did you realize... you liked girls?” he asked in a small voice. 

Mina smiled in understanding. Jisung sat in the question for a second, waiting for her to answer. He began to feel anxious, worried that she thought he was weird for asking. He was about to backtrack and find a way to leave when-

“I was thirteen, and I watched Harry Potter,” she answered. Jisung felt a massive weight lift off of his shoulders as he listened to her response. “It was Hermione, really. I don’t know why, but I had such a big crush on her. I didn’t even realize that it was a romantic thing until I was fourteen,” she let out a small, airy laugh. “everyone has their crushes...” 

Jisung smiled and nodded. 

“I assume that’s not the only think you wanted to talk to be about though, is it?” she said, resting her arm on his shoulder, “it’s okay, I won’t judge you,” 

Jisung almost felt himself tear up. He didn’t realize it would be this hard to come to terms with himself, but here he was. “I...” he started, and then stopped. 

“Jisung, do you think you might be interested in boys?” she asked cautiously, moving her hand to his back and rubbing consoling circles over the uniform. 

Jisung couldn’t find it in him to give her a verbal answer, so he just nodded his head. Mina gave him a smile, which he didn’t see since he was so focused on the track. 

“What makes you think that?” she asked, using a calming voice. Jisung felt safe with her. He almost felt like she was giving him motherly love, and it was intoxicating. 

He took a deep breath, and willed himself to explain it. “So...” he began, “I have this friend, I’m not going to say his name, and... I don’t know, I really wanted to be his friend, and he’s always so nice to me,” he mustered up the courage to look Mina in her eyes. He saw the genuine look she had on her face, and it made him feel less scared. “Anyways, I had.. a weird thought about him yesterday,” 

“What kind of a weird thought?” she asked. Jisung felt a whole new wave of nervousness engulf him when he realized he was about to tell her that he thought about kissing another boy, and he liked the idea. 

“It was..” he trailed off, but brought himself back, “His lips.. and I wanted to kiss them,” he finished. He hung his head in shame, hoping to hide his embarrassed cheeks from her. He felt his heart pound throughout his whole body, sounding like thunder in his ears. 

“I see,” Mina whispered. Jisung waited for her response, but there was none. 

“I just.. I don’t know, am I gay?” he asked her, turning to fully face her finally. 

Mina gave him an apologetic smile. “I can’t answer that for you, Jisung,” she moved both of her hands to grab both of his, “but I can tell you that whatever you are, it’s okay,” she confirmed, “liking boys is not a bad thing, okay?” she told him. 

Jisung felt his emotions get stronger again. He realized that what he really wanted was validation. He craved somebody to tell him his feelings for Minho weren’t disgusting. He needed that to help him become at peace with it. And he got it, in the form of Myoui Mina. 

The two of them exchanged numbers so that they could talk, and Jisung could keep her updated on what happens with him. 

When Jisung was walking back to his locker, he saw Minho, Jeongin and Sungjin all walking down the hall. As much as Jisung tried not to focus on the boy in the middle, his gaze automatically landed on Minho. 

He was wearing the red varsity jacket, his hair was slightly messy, but it looked attractive on him. Jisung met his eyes, and Minho gave him a wink and a smile as he walked. Jisung felt himself freeze in place when he noticed Minho’s lips curled into the most radiant smile Jisung had ever had the privilage of seeing. He felt his breath catch in his throat as Minho turned back to the other two boys, walking right past Jisung. 

He has absolutely no idea the damage he is doing. 

[sparklydreamies]

Best Shot~ Ch 2

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5800+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about. 

Main Themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

Chapter 1

MASTERLIST

A/n: so here’s chapter two!! Thank you to everyone who takes their time to read this, it really means a lot to me <33

CHAPTER 2

Unknown: Hey, it’s Minho, I hope you don’t mind me getting your number from Hyunjin lol

Unknown: I just wanted to make sure you were doing well after last night

Unknown: Text me when you get this!

Jisung stared down at his phone for several moments. He was trying to remember why he would be getting texts from Lee Minho, when the only words he’s ever spoken to the boy was probably “Do you have an extra pencil?” 

Then it hit Jisung like a missile. Minho was the one who took care of him the night before. Jisung felt a wave of nausea again at the memory.

Oh no... I threw up... in Bang Chan’s bathroom...

Jisung felt his stomach drop down through the floor. So much for not embarrassing himself at his first big party. 

“Ji, are you okay?” he heard Chaeryeong say, “you look really sick,” 

Jisung waved her off and sat back down in his chair. It was okay. Practically nobody would have even noticed him in that state except for Minho. And Hyunjin, who apparently drove him home. This whole situation sucks. 

“Okay well I’m going to go take a shower, I’m meeting some friends today,” she announced before taking off up the stairs to the bathroom. 

Jisung thought about how he should respond to Minho. On the one hand, his chest felt warm and he felt appreciated when he thought about Minho helping him, but on the other hand, he felt embarrassed that he let himself be seen like that by any human being- especially Lee Minho. 

He opened the chat for the unknown number, and began to type. 

Me: Haha, yeah I’m alright.. thank you for helping me yesterday, I’m sorry that you had to see that 

Jisung hit send. He sighed and brushed his hair backwards, feeling the slight fever that came with his hangover. Almost immediately, he felt his phone vibrate with a response. 

Unknown: Omg no, it’s okay! I’m happy you’re feeling better :))

Jisung smiled at the message and shoved his phone back in his pocket. This was actually kind of nice. Minho has always had this reputation of a dumb jock that plays with girl’s hearts because that’s what the stories and rumors about him had people believe. Now that Jisung thinks about it, he has only heard about these things from a guy who heard it from a guy who heard it from a guy. Maybe Minho isn’t what people perceive him to be. 

Coming back to reality, Jisung knew that going to the party was a dumb move. He should have just stayed home and studied for biology, like his mom wanted. 

Jisung’s mom and dad were out working today, which didn’t surprise him. His mom barely got any time off, and when she did, she spent it doing other things that didn’t involve interacting with her children. Sometimes Jisung felt like her only purpose in his life was to nag and yell at him about his schooling. 

Jisung moved to refill his water glass, which seemed like the only saving grace from his current physical situation. He also grabbed whatever medication he could find in the cabinet above the stove in the hopes of curing his hangover. 

Just then, he remembered about the two idiots that got him into that situation in the first place. Felix and Seungmin! He had completely forgotten that he was their ride to the party, and he was supposed to be their ride home. 

He fumbled through his pocket to pull out his phone. He quickly opened Felix’s contact number and hit call.

The tone dialed and rang, and he waited for his friend to pick up. After a few moments, Jisung was sent to voicemail. Either Felix was still sleeping, or he was ignoring his calls. 

Jisung filed through his contacts again to find Seungmin’s number. Hitting call again, he waited through the ringing. 

“What’s happening?” he heard Seungmin answer on the other end. 

“Oh man thank you for answering, Felix didn’t,” Jisung told him, slightly relieved that he knew Seungmin was good. 

“Let me put you on speaker,” Seungmin said, “Felix is here too,”

“Jisung, I dropped my phone in Chan’s pool last night,” Felix admitted. Of course he did. 

“Felix, that’s like the third phone you’ve broken this year,” Jisung nagged. 

“Don’t scold me, it wasn’t my fault,” Felix defended, “and besides, I’m not the one who should be disciplined here! Where the hell were you last night? Seungmin and I were looking around for like half an hour to find you!” 

“It’s true, we were worried sick,” Seungmin said. Jisung sighed and apologized to the other boys. 

“I don’t even remember coming home last night,” he admitted, “I was a little drunk. But how did you guys get home?”

Felix laughed a bit. “You know that girl I was talking to?” he asked.

“No I don’t, because you ditched me,” 

Felix scoffed. “You would have ditched you too,” Seungmin laughed at that. “Anyways that’s not the point. She is a college student, and she drove Seungmin and I home,” Felix said, in a teasing, flirty type of voice, implying that driving them home wasn’t the only thing that college girl did. 

“Oh is that right?” Jisung asked, “and?” 

“And-”

“And...” Seungmin cut Felix off before he could answer with any details, “when she was driving us home, Felix stumbled over his words and instead of saying ‘do you want my number’ or ‘thanks for the ride’, he said ‘do you want ride’, which she took in a very weird way, leading her to kick us out of her car three blocks from Felix’s house where we got rained on at four in the morning,” Seungmin finished, and Jisung could hear Felix punching the other boy in the arm over the phone while Seungmin laughed at him. 

Jisung was also laughing. Even though he felt guilty for leaving his friends at the party alone, he was relieved that they made it safely back to Felix’s. 

“Moving on,” Felix insisted, “how did you get home Jisung?” Felix asked, and Jisung scoffed. 

“Hwang Hyunjin apparently drove me home after I passed out in Bang Chan’s bathroom”. Maybe it was the thought of Jisung passed out in a basketball player’s bathroom, maybe it was the thought of him being driven home by his ex friend, maybe it was still because of Felix’s thing, but the other two boys were laughing so hard. 

“Wait, does that mean that your car is still at Chan’s place?” Seungmin asked once he stopped laughing. 

Fuck.

“Shit, I guess it is..” Jisung mumbled. How the hell was he supposed to go pick it up? Both of his parents were at work, and neither of his friends could drive him. “Ah, this day can’t get any worse,”

“Don’t you watch movies?” Felix warned, “when the protagonist says that, the day always gets worse,” 

Jisung scoffed at him. “I’m honored that you think of me as the protagonist.”

“Why can’t Hyunjin drive you there?” Seungmin suggested. Jisung thought about it. Nobody else he knew had a car and could drive him back to Bang Chan’s. Plus, Hyunjin only lives about four houses down from Jisung. This would involve asking a favour from his old ex friend, and a really long and awkward car ride. 

Jisung groaned audibly. “Seungmin, I don’t think Jisung likes that idea,” Felix stated. 

“Fine.” Jisung said, and when the boys started laughing again, he hung up the phone. Would you look at that, Jisung’s day managed to get even worse!

Felix and Seungmin knew about how Jisung felt about Hyunjin. When two people who were so close drift apart because of high school social status, things get awkward. Jisung never really blamed Hyunjin for it, he knew how things worked. If anything, he blamed himself for not getting involved in things like sports. 

Jisung dragged himself back up the stairs and into his bedroom. Would Hyunjin even be home? Would he want to help Jisung out? There’s no way Jisung should be asking this of Hyunjin after he drove Jisung’s blacked-out ass home from Chan’s yesterday. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Jisung could actually have a conversation with Hyunjin and they could become friends again. Ah, but that’s so unlikely. Jisung imagines that Hyunjin probably changed a lot during high school, he seems different than he used to be. 

But then Jisung thought about Minho again. Minho wasn’t what he seemed to be at all, so why should he believe Hyunjin is either? 

Jisung made up his mind to ask the boy for help. It was only one car ride. So, with a heavy body, Jisung dragged himself to his closet and grabbed some clean clothes. When Chaeryeong got out of the shower, Jisung took his turn to wash up and brush his teeth before getting dressed and heading out towards Hyunjin’s house. 

The air outside was surprisingly warm for October weather, which Jisung didn’t mind since he was only in a t-shirt. The sun was also unusually bright, which Jisung didn’t like as much, seeing as he was still battling a major hangover. He passed by a couple people on the street, which makes sense because it was a beautiful day. 

When Jisung got to Hyunjin’s house, he hesitated. He didn’t know if asking for Hyunjin’s help was a mistake or not, but it didn’t matter at this point. He knocked thrice on the door. 

Jisung heard the familiar bark of Hyunjin’s dog, Kkami as he waited on the front doorstep. The door opened, and Jisung saw the little dog being held back by Hwang Hyunjin. 

“Go on, go away,” Hyunjin talked to the dog, and finally settled on scooping him up in his arms. 

Jisung always loved that dog. Back when Jisung and Hyunjin were still friends, they used to take Kkami on walks together and use that time to talk about people in their class, and girls, and things that young boys normally talk about. 

Hyunjin raised his eyes to see Jisung standing there awkwardly, a nervous smile on his face. Hyunjin was surprised at this, but smiled back anyways. 

“Jisung,” Hyunjin greeted, and Jisung gave a small bow to the other one. 

Why are you so awkward he asked himself. 

“What’s going on?” Hyunjin asked. Jisung brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Oh, well um..” Jisung started, “I wanted to thank you for driving me home last night...” Hyunjin chuckled a little bit at Jisung, “I know it was probably a burden for you,”

“No, it was alright,” he assured. Jisung felt a small weight lift off his shoulders, “but how’s your mom? She seemed pretty upset when I brought you home, I hope everything’s okay,” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about that,” Jisung waved off. There was a beat of awkward silence between the two boys before Jisung realized Hyunjin was waiting for him to explain why he was standing on his doorstep. “Yeah, oh well... I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing me a small favour,” Jisung asked, and Hyunjin nodded his head. “You see, I left my car at Bang Chan’s place yesterday, and I sort of need it back, but I don’t have anybody that could drive me to get it...”

“You want me to drop you off at Chan’s?” Hyunjin supplied, and once Jisung saw the genuine look on Hyunjin’s face, he gave a relieved smile. 

“I mean, if you don’t mind.. it’s okay if you can’t, though,” Jisung was tiptoeing around what he wanted to do. 

“You have to ask me properly,” Hyunjin teased. If there was one thing about Hyunjin that Jisung remembered from when they were younger, it was that he was always big on teasing. 

Jisung laughed a little bit because even though Hyunjin was playing with him, it reminded him of how they used to act with each other when they were younger. 

“Fine, Hyunjin will you please drive me over to Bang Chan’s house so that I can pick up my car?” Jisung replied, leaving Hyunjin looking satisfied. 

“That’s much better,” Jisung rolled his eyes at the taller boy, “let me just go grab my keys”. Hyunjin turned around and closed his front door behind him, leaving Jisung on the doorstep. 

Why had Jisung been so nervous to talk to Hyunjin? He hadn’t changed at all. This whole high school social status thing is so overrated. Hyunjin still had the ability to make Jisung laugh, even after months of being separated. Jisung felt happy for the first time that day. Maybe the day wasn’t so bad after all. 

Suddenly, the door opened again, and Hyunjin was backing out of it, talking to his dog. “No... no... stay there... good boy!” Hyunjin praised, closing the door and separating himself from Kkami. “Ready?” he asked, and Jisung nodded, making his way over to Hyunjin’s car. 

Hyunjin’s family was pretty well off, financially. Hyunjin didn’t have to worry about how he was going to pay for college like the majority of kids their age did. He didn’t even have a job. Not to say that he was necessarily “daddies money” or anything like that, but being the son of a lawyer definitely had its perks. For example, this beautiful car that Hyunjin’s dad bought him when he was sixteen. Of course Jisung was a little bit jealous, Hyunjin was definitely more popular with the kids at school because of it. 

That being said, if someone from the outside were to have a normal conversation with Hwang Hyunjin, they would see that though he was very financially secure, his personality didn’t show it. Jisung always assumed that it was the fact that Hyunjin’s mother grew up in a poorer neighborhood without much to live by. When Jisung used to go over to Hyunjin’s house, occasionally she would tell the boys stories about how she used to live with only her mother and brother, each child working at least two jobs by the time they were thirteen. She would use these lessons to remind the children about how fortunate they were, and how not everybody is able to have the opportunity to live a comfortable life like them. 

Jisung opened the passenger side door and slid into the car. Jisung had never actually stepped foot inside Hyunjin’s car, he had only seen it from afar. It was every bit of cool on the inside as it was on the outside. There were even leather seats that could be heated in the winter, and cooled in the summer. Jisung thought he was experiencing what living in the lap of luxury would be like. 

“Buckle,” Hyunjin reminded before he started the car, and Jisung complied, pulling the strap across his chest and clipping it in place. The car started with a gentle hum. Much nicer than Jisung’s car, that started with uneven sputters and coughs, if it even started at all. 

The boys pulled out of Hyunjin’s driveway and down the street towards Chan’s place. 

“This car is insane,” Jisung complimented, and Hyunjin chuckled a little bit. 

“Thanks I guess,” Hyunjin said awkwardly. For a few moments, the boys drove in silence. Jisung felt the nervousness and stiffness creep back into his system, and he knew that he had to start a conversation to keep himself from being weird. 

It seemed like Hyunjin had the same thought because just then, Hyunjin said “So I guess you had fun last night, huh?” 

Please, anything but this.

“Uh.. yeah, I guess for a bit..” Jisung blushed a little bit when he remembered he was probably being propped up into this very seat he was in last night, except he was passed out drunk. On second thought, they probably just shoved him into the backseat, which was somehow even worse. 

“Someone said they saw you with Im Nayeon, is that true?” Hyunjin asked, taking a right. Jisung remembered the pretty girl from last night with the sparkly eyes. 

“People are talking about that?” he asked.

“I knew it was true!” Hyunjin exclaimed, smiling like an idiot. “Good for you, Jisung! She’s so hot,” 

Jisung was trying desperately to change the subject. “Do you have a girlfriend, Hyunjin?” Hyunjin smiled a little bit. 

“No, not right now, but there are some girls trying,” Jisung didn’t doubt that one, “but I don’t know if I am interested in any of them,”

“Oh, a man with standards,” Jisung teased. Hyunjin laughed and nodded. 

“You don’t have a girlfriend, Jisung?” Jisung shook his head. “What about Chaeryeong? Who is she with?”

Jisung felt his heart stop out of surprise “not you, so don’t even try,” he warned, stifling an awkward laugh. 

“What? No I didn’t- no I swear I didn’t mean that for me!” Hyunjin spoke in an obviously panicked tone, and Jisung laughed at him. Hyunjin really hadn’t changed. 

“Whatever man,” Jisung shrugged. There was no way he was going to tell Chaeryeong about what Hyunjin asked, it would make her think she should pursue him further, 

“I don’t know why we don’t hang out anymore, Jisung.” Hyunjin admitted. “I missed talking with you,”

Jisung knew exactly why he and Hyunjin drifted apart, but he wasn’t about to spoil the good mood by bringing the politics of high school status into the topic. 

“Yeah I don’t know either,” there was another beat of silence. 

“So where are you thinking about applying to next year?” Hyunjin asked. The conversation from there was pretty average for teenage boys. They talked about school, they talked about Hyunjin’s basketball and how he’s hoping to get a scholarship, they even talked about television shows, which seems like pointless small talk, but it isn’t when Jisung could see Hyunjin was clearly very obsessed with Stranger Things. Jisung had only bothered to watch a couple episodes of it, but he still participated in the conversation because he enjoyed seeing Hyunjin so excited. 

When they turned onto Bang Chan’s street, Jisung saw that his car was still parked on the curb where he had left it. 

“That’s it right there,” Jisung said. Hyunjin pulled into the driveway next to the car, and Jisung unclipped his seatbelt. “Thank you for the ride again, Hyunjin”. 

“It was nothing, I was happy to help,” Hyunjin said with a warm smile. Jisung returned the smile, and said goodbye. “I’ll see you at school on Monday!” Hyunjin called out before Jisung closed his door. Maybe he might just be able to rekindle an old friendship. 

----

Jisung knew he was fucked when he turned onto his street and saw his mother’s car in the driveway. He forgot that she gets off early afternoons on Saturdays. 

Jisung pulled into the driveway beside his mom’s car. He turned the car off, and sat for a moment. Should he even bother going inside? Maybe it would be easier to take off again and hide at Felix’s place so that he didn’t have to face her. 

Don’t misunderstand, Jisung loved his mom. Jisung knew that she only scolded him because she wanted him to be a good person, but sometimes it was too much. She was never satisfied with him. And he knew that a mistake like last night’s would be hands down the worst thing that he has done in his seventeen years of living. 

Jisung didn’t know how long he sat in the driveway, debating his options before he got a text from Chaeryeong.

Chae: Jisung I know you’re in the driveway, get your ass inside before mom takes her anger out on me!!!!

Jisung sighed and hit his head against his steering wheel. That helped make up his mind that he had to face his mother. So, with a heavy body, he stepped out of the car and made his way inside. 

The house was quiet when Jisung walked in. Jisung gently walked into the kitchen where he knew his mom was likely to be sitting, drinking coffee or tea and reading a book. 

Sure enough, there she was: still in her nursing scrubs, graying hair disheveled as it had most likely just been pulled out of a ponytail, and a tired expression on her once lively and bright, now worried and exasperated face. 

Jisung felt himself cower away from her like a dog when his owner yelled at him, and he made eye contact with his sister, who was washing dishes by the sink. She gave him a shrug, but her eyes were sorry. 

“Jisung, sit.” his mother commanded. Jisung obeyed, and sat across the table from her. “I work all day. I come home tired every day. You want to give up your academics for a stupid party, and when I say yes, you come home at three in the morning, unconscious, waking everybody up, making your sister and myself worry, and making me lose sleep before I have to go back and work another hard shift at the hospital, is that right?” Jisung felt his head pounding and his chest tight with regret. He slowly nodded his head. “And then, when I come home, you aren’t even here to take my lesson like a man, is that right?” 

Jisung wanted to tell her that he was just going to pick up his car from Chan’s, but he knew that it was no use trying to redeem himself. So he nodded again. 

“Jisung wasn’t avoiding you mom, he went to get his car because he didn’t drive home,” Chaeryeong defended, and Jisung knew she shouldn’t have bothered. 

“Was I asking you to speak, Chaeryeong?” his mom asked, and Chaeryeong opened her mouth to protest again, but was cut short. “Go start a load of laundry. This is between me and Jisung.” Chaeryeong sulked as she walked out of the living room to do the laundry. 

Jisung felt his cheeks burn up. 

“I mean seriously Jisung, I am trying my best to raise you right, but this kind of behavior makes me feel like it’s all in vain,” she complained, and Jisung laid his eyes on the floor. How could he look up? “I am not trying to make you upset, I just don’t think that you are making good life choices, and I will not raise a son that throws caution to the wind and doesn’t give a care in the world about his future or his family. Think about how your father and I feel about this.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung said, knowing it’s the only thing out of his mouth that his mom would want him to hear. 

“What if someone had seen you? What if friends of your father and I saw that our only son was spending his prime academic, adolescent years drinking and disappointing us like this? Your actions reflect badly not only on yourself, but on your father and I.” she finished, “Now. Go study.” She returned her attention back to her book. 

Jisung stood up from his seat and moved to walk away. He saw the worried lines on his mother’s face, and the disappointment in her features. Jisung wanted nothing more than to be a proud son, but it was impossible to be both a good child to his parents, and a person that is in control of his own life. 

Jisung had pondered the idea of going to school in America or Canada multiple times. He was good at English he thought, and he could be far away from his mother, but it was expensive. 

Jisung sat down on the edge of his bed when he entered his room. 

“What if some friends of your father and I saw that our only son was spending his prime academic, adolescent years drinking and disappointing us like this?”

That was what bothered him most. Hearing his mother call him a disappointment hurt more than any insult any bully had ever given him. Maybe if he was more proper and friendly like Hyunjin, or more athletic and charming like Minho instead of being anxious and quiet like himself, who's barely able to spend over half an hour at a time studying. 

Jisung believes firmly that his mother is only treating him the way that mothers are supposed to treat their sons if they want to motivate them into living good lives. 

this situation wasn’t even worth worrying over. Jisung will just get over it the same way he normally gets over things. By outliving the stress. 

----

Monday came quickly to Jisung, and before he knew it, he was walking through the pull doors and into the over crowded hallways of his high school. 

The sound of people talking was somewhat deafening for Jisung, who hated being in crowds of people with a passion. So, he put in his earbuds and listened to whatever music played on his playlist first. 

Jisung’s classes were all the same. Nothing new ever happened at school, no matter how badly the antsy teenagers wished for a little bit of excitement. Jisung never really liked change, but he couldn’t help but want something around him to, just so that he could make sure he wasn’t living in a loop. 

His moment came directly to him on that day. 

Jisung had convinced Felix and Seungmin to find another ride home from school that Monday, since Jisung had promised his mom he would stay late to practice biology. He was okay with this plan, because that gave him time to talk to his favourite bio teacher. 

Everybody has their own form of emotional support high school teacher. Some people enjoy ranting to their English teachers, some people make jokes with their history teachers, some people just use that teacher’s class as an escape from the rest of the hellish existence known as high school. 

Jisung had Mr. Kim for science in grade 9, biology in grade 11, and biology again senior year. Even though Jisung hates to admit it, even to himself, he sometimes subconsciously thinks of Mr. Kim as the parent figure he has always yearned for in his life. 

Mr. Kim knew Jisung as the “quiet kid” when he came to the school in grade 9. He was seated close to the teachers bench, so every day before class, Mr. Kim would start conversations with Jisung. Jisung appreciated it greatly, since he didn’t really have anybody else to talk to before the bell. 

Slowly, Jisung began looking forward to that class everyday. Some people didn’t like Mr. Kim for whatever reason, but he was funny and always listened to what Jisung had to say. 

On that Monday, Jisung went to the extra help room and took the desk that he usually occupies whenever he goes for extra help. Jisung enjoys the subject of biology a lot, and he has even considered pursuing a career in that field. His mother would be very happy if her son ended up being a doctor or a biologist. Or maybe he could go into teaching and be like Mr. Kim. 

Jisung opened his biology books and began to answer some of the practice questions Mr. Kim had assigned, but before Jisung knew it, it was already 5:00 and he had to head home. So, he politely gave Mr. Kim a thanks and a bow. He still wasn’t confident that he could get over 80%, but what was he supposed to do about it now? 

Jisung made his way back to his locker to grab a textbook when in an instant, his high school life earned that interesting change that Jisung had been silently yearning for. 

Jisung opened his locker and grabbed his books. All of the sudden, he heard loud voices and the sound of a basketball being dribbled on the freshly cleaned hallway floors. Jisung remembered about how the basketball team had after school practices every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. 

Jisung cringed at the thought of facing Minho after what had happened the Friday before.

Jisung closed his locker and began walking away from the sound, hoping to god it was somebody other than Minho. He would rather talk to Hyunjin. Actually, he would like talking to Hyunjin. 

It seemed a lot like the universe was out to get him because once he heard the boys come around the corner and begin down the hallway he was on, he heard his name being called out. 

“Jisung!” Jisung winced. It was certainly the confident voice of Lee Minho. “I’ll catch up with you guys later, tell Hyunjin I’ll be a second.”

Jisung turned around to see that Minho was walking with Bang Chan and Seo Changbin, who nodded at him and kept walking away. They never stopped dribbling the basketball between them. 

“Jisung, wait up,” Minho called, jogging slightly to catch Jisung. It was obvious that Minho had just come from practice. His hair was slightly sweaty, his usually fair cheeks were tinted soft pink, and he was wearing the ugly school basketball uniform, which somehow made Minho look more handsome than Jisung thought it should. “Hey man, how’s it going?” he asked once he got within earshot of Jisung. 

“Hey Minho,” Jisung greeted, “I’m fine. Did you just have practice?” he asked. Maybe he could steer the direction of the conversation away from their encounter on Friday night. 

“Yeah, but Jisung, I mean... how were you after Friday? I wanted to check up on you again, but I got distracted,” Minho confessed. Why the hell was he so worried about Jisung? It’s not like he ended up in the hospital. 

“Oh that, yeah don’t worry I’m fine,” Jisung said, “Saturday kind of sucked for a while, but other than that...” Jisung trailed off. Minho laughed a little bit at that. Jisung noticed a few things about Minho at that moment. 

The first thing was that Lee Minho had a beautiful laugh. Jisung had never really thought about people having nice laughs, but Minho’s was just so light and bubbly that it made Jisung smile. Secondly, Jisung realized that Minho was very pretty. Not that Jisung was attracted to him, but he noticed that Minho had very sparkly eyes, and very nice skin. Minho was pretty like a girl, Jisung thought. 

Jisung snapped himself out of his own head. “I wanted,” Jisung started, “I wanted to thank you, for taking care of me on Friday.. It was really nice of you, and you didn’t have to do that,” Jisung said, suddenly feeling embarrassed and shifting his gaze away from the other.

Minho smiled at him. “You know you don’t have to thank me,” he said, “you would have done the same,”

Jisung nodded his head. “I’m about to head out,” he said, and Minho answered.

“Oh, well I’ll walk with you” 

The two boys began walking away towards the school parking lot. “So how is your team doing this year?” Jisung asked. Maybe if he were to make conversation, he wouldn’t feel so stiff next to Minho. 

“Well, we’ve won three games and tied one, but there’s a long way to go until championships,” Minho answered.

“Well winning three games right at the beginning of the season seems pretty good to me,” Jisung said, and Minho nodded. “Then again, what do I know about sports,”

They turned the corner and opened the glass doors that led to the student parking lot. “Yeah, I guess so. You don’t play any sports, Jisung?” Jisung audibly laughed at that. “What, what’s funny?” Minho asked.

“I haven’t played any sort of sport since t-ball when I was seven,” Jisung admitted. “I guess I’m not really the athletic type,” 

“I bet you could do it if you tried,” Minho said. Jisung blushed a little bit at that. Why did he blush? Jisung felt happy when the other boy praised him. Maybe it was just nice to be encouraged by someone. 

The two boys arrived at Jisung’s car, but neither of them ended their conversation. Jisung leaned up against the driver side door while he talked to Minho.

“Ah even if I wanted to, I’m sure that I couldn’t handle both school and a sport. How do you juggle your studies and being the team captain?” Jisung asked, “it can’t be easy,”

Minho smiled, but he looked a little bit sad. Jisung was confused. They weren’t talking about a sad topic, so why was Minho sad? “I love basketball,” Minho admitted, “It wasn’t my choice to be captain. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate it, but...” Minho trailed off and sighed. “you see, I don’t know if you know this, but our school has won the board championships six years in a row. The boys voted me captain this year, and I’m actually pretty scared that I’ll end up letting them down. I don’t want to be known as that captain that broke the six year winning streak, you know?” Minho began to actually look sad now. His handsome face had very faint lines of worry, much like Jisung sees in his mother. 

Jisung understood the other boy’s feelings. That was the moment that he began to truly understand these people. These jocks that have their reputations to uphold, the kids that nobody really knows, but everybody thinks they know. Jisung felt a little bit sorry for Minho. 

“Anyway.. I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” Minho started to brighten up again, like he just flipped a switch inside his brain. Jisung thought that being able to switch from being sad to being happy like that must be a skill. He also wondered how often Minho might actually be sad underneath the charming and confident exterior he always wears. “I guess you’re just very easy to talk to,”

Jisung smiled. “I like talking to you too, Minho,” 

Just then, there was a loud honking noise, and both of the boys turned their attention towards the nice, white car that Jisung knew belonged to Hwang Hyunjin. 

“Shit, I guess they’re waiting for me,” Minho said, “Jisung, maybe we could do something some time? Would you want to?” 

Jisung was a little bit shocked that Minho wanted to spend more time with him, he didn’t get why the other boy would bother. Still, Jisung liked talking to Minho. So, he nodded a yes, and Minho smiled at him. 

“Great! I have your number, I’ll text you!” 

“Okay,” Jisung agreed, and Minho made his way over to Hyunjin’s car, where Jisung saw about six other boys were crowded in. Jisung thought that the car must smell like sweat and feet with those boys in it. 

Once Hyunjin drove the other boys away, Jisung got into his own car. It was then that he felt the way his heart was beating so fast. He felt really weird after that conversation with Minho, it was hard for him to describe. All he knew was that he loved the feeling, and he wanted to be Minho’s friend really badly.

Jisung couldn’t stop smiling the entire car ride home, or for the rest of the night. He couldn’t even figure out why. 

[sparklydreamies]

Love best shit! Keep going!! 💙

Aww thank you so much, it means a lot!! I’m working on the next chapter now :))

[sparklydreamies]

Best Shot

Group: Stray Kids

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4500+

Summary: Han Jisung, certified quiet boy, has never really understood the hype about love and romance. That is until he has to step out of his comfort zone and onto the basketball court to impress that one person he can’t stop thinking about

Main Themes: highschool!AU, basketball!AU, internalized homophobia, friends-to-lovers

a/n: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a slow burn, multi chapter fic! I worked very hard on this and I am proud of the results. I will try and upload more chapters regularly :) Enjoy!!

CHAPTER 1

From the outside, Han Jisung would seem to be the average high school senior. He goes to school, comes home, does his average two or three hours of homework, maybe picks up a shift at the bakery he works at, and tries his best to maintain his barely existent social life.

Jisung always has had a way of emitting this friendly air that all desirable friends have. There aren’t many people who have had a conversation with him that can honestly say that they dislike him. He would not be considered overly popular, or overly smart, or overly artistic; however, nobody could deny his good looks.

He had the type of face that many actors would kill for. Of course he knew this, but he tried hard to not define himself by it. He was used to getting the occasional side glace from his female classmates, or opening his locker to a love letter or two from some hopeful freshman that believed she had a chance with him.

The truth about Jisung was, perhaps he wasn’t as average as many would have suspected. Sure nobody really knew about it, but he wasn’t interested in those girls.

He's dated girls, he's kissed girls, but he has never once felt the spark from them that high school dramas and romance movies have trained him to expect. He walks around the school as the center of attention to some of these girls, and he can’t even seem to figure out why.

Maybe the whole thing is just overrated. Maybe movies and dramas have over exaggerated the entire concept of teenage romance. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right girl yet. Maybe it’s worth holding himself out for the girl that would change his experience with romance.

Then again, he is just young. He doesn’t have a good enough understanding of the whole idea to make that kind of judgement. The easiest thing for him to do is to focus on school and live his teenage years right, so he won’t regret it.

Other than the fact that he saw his friends and his favourite biology teacher everyday, school was a nightmare. Jisung shouldn’t complain about it though; school was awful for everyone his age. It was only one more year before he could leave the last four of them behind. Not only did Jisung have to deal with the pressures of school from his teachers and peers during the day, but he had to come home every night to a family that had one goal and one goal for him only- to get into one of the world’s top 100 universities.

He knows that he shouldn’t complain about his parents; he knows that they only want the best for him, but he still can’t shake the stress of it all. Sometimes it seems like his academics are all they care about.

Nevertheless, Jisung deals with it. The same way he deals with everything in his life.

-------

“Jisung, did you hear about the basketball teams party?”

Of course he had. Everybody had. And just like always, Jisung has no interest in going.

“Felix, why do you always care so much about those stupid parties?” Jisung answered.

Lee Felix was one of Jisung’s two best friends. They had known each other since primary school, when Jisung accidentally tripped Felix during a game of capture the flag. The two had been inseparable all throughout their school years.

Felix had a dumbfounded look on his face as he processed what Jisung said.

“Why do I care? Because I should!” he whined, “Jisung, we’re seniors and we have been to what, like two parties?” Jisung could tell Felix wanted to go.

“Actually no,” Kim Seungmin said, dropping his bag down beside the table where the other two were eating lunch and sitting down, “Felix has been to like two parties, and Jisung hasn’t been to any.”

Felix gave a sort of I told you so gesture to Jisung, which the latter waved off. “It’s so overrated,” Jisung explained, “a bunch of drunk, horny teenagers... rubbing together or something.. I don’t know, it just sounds gross.”

“Give Felix a drink, and you’ll have yourself a drunk, horny teenager,” Seungmin commented, and Felix punched him in the arm.

“Jisung, think about it?” Felix begged, and Jisung sighed.

“I’m sorry dude, did you even get invited?”

The only thing worse than going to a high school party was going to a high school party that they weren’t invited to.

Felix scoffed at him, “it’s open invite, it’s always open invite. You know that.”

The bell rang throughout the cafeteria, and all around them kids began packing up to get to their next class.

“I’ll think about it.” Jisung reluctantly said. There was no way he was going to go.

----

“Attention teachers. At this time, please dismiss all students on the varsity boys basketball team for their away game today against Eastmile High. Students, wish our boys luck!”

The announcements blared throughout the school, just in case anybody didn’t already know about what kings the boys on the basketball team were. They always had a near full turnout at all of their games, they had girls lining up out the door for their numbers, and of course, they had the street credit of those amazing parties they always throw.

Jisungs eyes flicked towards a boy rise from his seat on the other side of the room. Of course it was Hwang Hyunjin.

“Yeah, just go. Good luck Mr. Hwang,” Jisung’s math teacher said, and Hyunjin mumbled a quick thanks, packed up his books, and headed for the door for another inevitable win.

Hyunjin and Jisung used to be very close in primary school, mainly due to the fact that they lived about four houses down from each other. When they got old enough for their parents to trust them, they used to walk to school together.

Things change, that’s just the way it was. During their first year of high school, Jisung was immediately tagged as the “quiet kid”, whereas Hyunjin made it on the basketball team and the soccer team, making him a double threat jock. Jisung was fine with that for a while, they still hung out on weekends every so often, and they’d be invited to each other’s birthday celebrations. Eventually, Hyunjin began to drift apart from Jisung more and more. Soon, he stopped saying hi to him in the halls. By the time senior year came around, Hyunjin and Jisung were strangers.

But that’s fine. Everybody loses their primary school friends when they go to high school, it’s just how it is.

Jisung continued on his practice problems, even though there was only five minutes left until the bell rang and he could leave. Jisung never felt he was that good in math, but he has no choice but improve if he wants to make it into a good school.

The bell rang shortly after that, and Jisung packed up his books, hastily shoving them in his bag.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend, Mr. Han?” Jisung’s teacher asked, and this was one of those times that Jisung mentally cursed that the seating plan has him in front of the teacher’s desk.

“Uh, no actually, not really.” He answered dryly, hoping that his teacher would just leave it at that. Ah, but he was a dreamer.

“What?” his teacher asked, “but you’re a high school senior and it’s Friday night!”

Jisung scoffed a little bit in his head. So? he wanted to ask.

“Yeah I don’t know yet, maybe I’ll do something with my friends,” Jisung wished this guy would see how he doesn’t want to talk anymore, and thankfully, the man was distracted by a small girl from the back row.

“Sir, can I ask a question about the homework?” she asked, and Jisung took this opportunity to leave with the wave of other students filing out of the classrooms into the overly crowded halls.

Jisung made his way over to Felix’s locker, which is conveniently near Seungmin’s locker. It was the next hall over from his math class, and when he turned the corner, he saw that the two of them were already there, talking and packing their bags.

“What’s going on?” Jisung asked, leaning up against the locker beside Felix’s. Felix bent down to zip up his back pack,

“We’re talking about the party tonight,” Seungmin answered nonchalantly. Of course they were.

“My mom’s gonna drive us since I can’t drive and Seungmin’s keys are confiscated,” Felix added. Jisung knew there was more. “That is, unless a friendly little introvert would mind helping us out, and experiencing this great thing I’m always hearing about, what is it called again Seungmin?”

“I believe you’re looking for the word fun, Felix.”

Felix snapped his fingers, “That’s it! Fun!” Felix smiled sickeningly at Jisung. There it was.

Jisung groaned, but finally agreed to give the boys a ride to the party. Jisung got his licence over the summer, and he saved up all of his tips from his job at the bakery, plus his birthday and Christmas money to afford a car. Of course, not only his parents are abusing the fact that they have a son who can drive, but Jisung’s friends are also begging and bribing him all the time for rides places.

“This is going to be so much fun, you won’t regret it!” Felix shouted.

The three of them walked over to Jisung’s locker so that he could get packed up, and then made their way outside to Jisung’s car, where Jisung would drive them home from school. Jisung’s car was not the prettiest or the most functional, but it was good enough to get from point A to point B.

When Jisung dropped Felix off at his place, Felix reminded him to be ready and to pick them up at 8:00 so that they can make it to the party at 8:30. Jisung nodded him off and drove himself back home.

----

Jisung’s mom wasn’t happy about him going to a party that night. She was concerned because he had a biology test on the following Tuesday. Even though that was the class Jisung was most confident with, she still wanted him to spend as long as he can studying. She finally agreed to let him go when he told her that he would go to see his teacher at lunch and after school on Monday for extra study time.

Jisung knew he was done for when Chaeryeong found out he was actually going to a real high school senior party.

Chaeryeong was Jisung’s little sister, who was a good three years younger than him. She was a freshman at his school, and never ceased to butt into his life, even though socially, her’s was much better.

“Please take me with you,” she begged him after she found out about his plans during dinner, “I just want to know what it’s like,”

Chaeryeong, just like a good number of freshmen, still had a large group of friends from her primary school, as well as many new people that she had just met this year. Even though she was only about one month into her high school career, she already had the numbers of more people than Jisung got in his four years of going to that school.

Jisung would be one to call Chaeryeong popular.

“I told you before, you aren’t old enough to go to parties like these, mom is barely letting me go,” Jisung argued. Chaeryeong obviously only wanted to go to this party so that she could brag to her friends that she went to a senior party hosted by the varsity basketball team. The last thing Jisung wanted for his sister is for her to be exposed to all those perverted teenage boys.

“I am so old enough, and besides you owe me one!” Jisung rolled his eyes as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

“I don’t owe you shit, now please leave me alone.”

“But Hyunjin will be there!” she whined as she followed him up the stairs. Jisung felt his stomach drop when he remembered about the fact that Hyunjin would be there. Maybe he won’t show? No, this is a basketball team party, of course he’ll be there. Jisung might just have to try and avoid that awkward encounter with his old friend.

Jisung knew about Chaeryeong’s big fat crush on Hyunjin, and it sickened him. Sure, Jisung knew that Hyunjin was attractive for girls like Chaeryeong, but that didn’t give her the right to drool over his childhood best friend.

Jisung stopped outside his door and looked Chaeryeong in her eyes. “Please stay away from him, he won’t even be interested in you anyways,” she pouted at Jisung.

“You don’t know that,” She mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Jisung sighed. As annoying as she could be sometimes, he had to admit that he hated to see her upset. She began picking at her freshly painted nails.

“Chae, I can’t take you with me, okay?” she sighed at him and nodded her head. “Maybe another time.”

Jisung turned away from his sulky little sister into his bedroom, and locked the door behind him. His room was messy, but not too messy that he couldn’t focus in it. It would be better to call it disorganized.

Jisung dressed himself in just some black jeans and a hoodie. There was no need to go all fancy for this party, especially when he could already tell he wouldn’t be there long.

----

8:00 came faster than he thought it would.

Jisung had a weird feeling in his stomach while he grabbed his car keys and yelled goodbye to his mom. He didn’t know if it was nerves, or excitement, or anxiety. Maybe it was all three. He hoped to God that this party would go over well because if he did something embarrassing, it would further marginalize him from the rest of his classmates. He also hoped that this party wouldn’t get as crazy as he sees in movies.

Felix and Seungmin were more than ecstatic to be going to another basketball team party. They spent the whole car ride filling Jisung in on what great things happened at the other parties the other two went to, as well as speculating what might happen tonight. Jisung was amazed at how excited the other boys seemed because for him, all of these recounts seemed like horror stories. Jisung felt that weird feeling in his chest again when Felix told him they were close to Bang Chan’s house, where the party was.

“Who knows,” Felix started, “maybe we’ll even meet some girls tonight.”

Jisung supposed that was true. Maybe making out with a cute girl would make this night a little less awful.

“Felix, remember last time when those three girls took their tops off?” Seungmin said, excitedly hitting Felix in the arm. Felix giggled as he remembered the incident. Maybe this party would be okay if something like that were to happen again.

“You guys are such pervs,” Jisung chuckled, expecting nothing less than that from his friends. Jisung was happy that he had such light-hearted friends though, it made for funny conversations.

“Shit, we’re here” Seungmin commented, and Jisung’s eyes laid on the house at the end of the street. Cars were lined up down the road, people were dancing on the grass, and music was blaring from the house loud enough that Jisung could feel a slight vibration all the way over in his car. Great.

“Holy fuck, it looks awesome!” Felix was practically buzzing from the passenger seat, itching to get out and pour himself a cup of whatever the hell was in there. Jisung managed to find a spot that wasn’t already taken, and parked his car.

The three boys left their car, and made their way over the grass on the front lawn. The house was crowded with people, and the music was already starting the give Jisung a headache. At least he was smart enough not to drag Chaeryeong into this mess.

The three of them grabbed beers from one of the coolers in the living room, and made their way around the house.

“Oh my god, this is so cool!” Felix yelled, just loud enough that Jisung could hear it over the music. “Do you like it?” He asked Jisung.

“Uh,” Jisung started. He wanted to say no, that he wanted to go home, that he didn’t want to risk seeing his old primary school friends, but he also didn’t want to spoil the mood for Felix, who obviously loved these things so much. “Yeah, it’s much better than I thought it would be!” he yelled back, and Felix gave him a satisfied grin.

All around them, people were dancing, drinking, groping, and sucking each others faces. There was also one girl crying, but Jisung couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or sad tears. Seungmin had noticed a pretty girl staring at him, so he ended up ditching Felix and Jisung. That was fine; Jisung still had Felix.

Felix and Jisung were both probably a bit too many beers in, and slowly, Jisung found himself to be enjoying the foreign experience more and more. He had drank alcohol before, but he had never been fully drunk. He didn’t even know if he was drunk now. All he knew was that he loved parties. He loved all of the music they played, he loved spending time with Felix, he loved watching drunk people do stupid things.

Jisung left to go to the bathroom, which he has to do very often when he drinks, and found the stairs where Jisung and Felix were sitting to be empty. Felix ditched him.

Sober Jisung would have been pissed, but drunk Jisung noticed a girl looking at him, which made him happier.

She was cute, with long dark hair and a pretty face. Her eyes were all sparkly, Jisung noticed. She was standing with two other girls, but her attention was on Jisung. Boldly, Jisung began to approach her. The girl got the message, and walked towards him, too.

“Hi,” Jisung started. The girl giggled at him.

“Hi,” she said back, “I’m Nayeon”

Jisung told her his name. The girl, Nayeon, took his hand and led him to a hallway. Jisung thought she was enchanting. Her smile was beautiful, her hands were delicate, her skin was smooth and pale. All at once, she pressed her lips against his.

Jisung panicked a little bit. Things were moving very fast for him at that time, and he didn’t know what he should do. What should he do with his hands? Was she expecting him to do something? His mind was racing.

He thought that he would feel that spark that he was waiting for, but it never happened. Jisung was nervous and anxious while kissing Nayeon. She seemed confident enough, and Jisung knew that Felix would kill to be in his position, but it just made him uncomfortable.

Nayeon wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, licking at his bottom lip. He gasped a little bit, which she used to dip her tongue in his mouth. That was the line for Jisung.

Jisung pushed Nayeon off of him, which startled her.

“Stop,” he gasped. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and struggled to catch his breath. He felt his face heat up. His head was spinning.

When he looked up, Nayeon looked absolutely terrified.

“I’m so sorry,” she quickly said, “I-I just assumed, I though you wanted-”

“I thought I did too,” he assured. He was so confused. “’Scuse me, I have to find my friends,” he slurred, and took off down the hallway.

The music was making his head foggy and he felt dazed. He was dizzy, and he felt extremely nauseous. He knew what was about to happen, so he quickly raced himself through the crowds of people that smell like sweat and cheap liquor. As soon as he reached the bathroom, he threw up.

Jisung felt gross and sick, and he kept throwing up in Bang Chan’s bathroom. Once he finished throwing up all of his internal organs, he just sat there. He sat on the bathroom floor, and waited for the world to stop spinning.

Maybe he shouldn’t have sat there for so long because all of the sudden, Jisung heard the door open. He turned his head around to see Lee Minho standing in the door frame. Perfect.

Lee Minho was the captain of the varsity basketball team. If all cool and popular teenagers had a leader, it would be Lee Minho. He was handsome as all hell, which Jisung noticed upon his arrival. Jisung always overhears girls talking about him in the hallways. They talk about everything from how good of a kisser they think he is, to what their names would be if they were married, to how good they think his thighs looked in the school uniform.

Lee Minho wasn’t particularly that smart, but it was okay because he was charming and pretty. Jisung has heard all the rumors about the girls he pulls, and Jisung believes every single one of them.

Jisung snapped back into reality when he realized the predicament he was in. Jisung was sitting on the bathroom floor with a face as pale as the moon, and eyes as sunken in as a skeletons. Jisung couldn’t make himself stand up, so he just sat there, eyes on the boy in front of him.

Minho looked startled when he walked in, but his face transformed into one of concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, crouching down so he could be face to face with the sickly boy. “You look like shit,” he added on. Jisung chuckled a little bit at that.

Jisung stared at the lines of worry across Minho’s face. He still felt so nauseous.

“You’re Jisung, right?” Minho asked. Jisung slowly nodded his head. How did Minho even know who he was? “I know that because of Hyunjin. You look very out of it,” Jisung smiled at Minho. “I’ll be right back”.

Minho stood up to leave, and much to Jisung’s embarrassment, he heard himself whine a little bit. Minho left the bathroom, and Jisung closed his eyes.

Jisung heard the door open again, and he saw Minho with a bottle of water in his hands.

“Drink this, it will make your head less dizzy,” he advised, and Jisung drank from the bottle. “Have you been drinking water tonight?”

Almost instantly after he took a sip, he felt his head begin to clear up. “I’ve been drinking...” Jisung started, wincing at how his voice sounds, “...but it hasn’t been water,” he finished. Minho chuckled at him.

“Jisung, don’t you know that when you drink, you need to have water with it? or else you’ll end up-” Minho paused and examined Jisung’s face, “-like this”.

Jisung smiled and took another sip. He shrugged at the statement.

“First time,” he mumbled. Minho tsked at him.

The older boy stood up and grabbed a washcloth from Chan’s sink drawer. He wet it with cold water, and sat back down by Jisung, who was focused on quickly finishing the water.

“Is it okay if I touch your face?” Minho asked, and Jisung smiled sweetly, nodding his head. Minho gently placed his hand on Jisungs chin and dabbed at his forehead with the washcloth. “You need to be careful when you drink,” Minho said, “did you drive here?” Jisung nodded. “Well you won’t be driving home,”

Jisung closed his eyes as the other boy made his way down his face with the washcloth, dabbing lightly over his eyes, across his cheeks, and even gently on his neck.

“You’re good at this,” Jisung mumbled, and Minho grinned at him.

“I have experience,” he answered.

That was one of the last things Jisung remembered about that night.

----

Jisung woke up with a searing headache. It felt like he was weighed down to the bed, and his brain was being split open. Then, it occurred to Jisung that he didn’t know exactly where he was or what happened at the end of last night.

Slowly, he pried his eyes open just enough to see the similar pattern of his bedspread. He was in his bed, safe and sound.

After a few minutes of questioning his life’s choices, he had decided that he was going to kill Lee Felix and Kim Seungmin for convincing him to go to that party. Cautiously, Jisung sat up in his bed, and saw from the clock on his wall that it was about noon. He groaned and made his way downstairs to get some water.

Once he drank a sufficient amount, he sat down at the kitchen table. His head was pounding, and he felt like he was going to explode. He sat there, trying to regain his strength, sanity, and memory.

How did he get home?

Maybe Seungmin drove him home with his car. He does have his licence after all.

“Han Jisung!” a shrill voice screamed, and Jisung stood up, giving himself a worse headache.

“Ahh! What is it Chaeryeong?” he groaned. His sister giggled and sat down on the table swinging her legs.

“How was your party?” she asked sweetly, as if she didn’t just rip his brain out of his head.

“It was fine,” Jisung answered, sitting back down in his seat. He knew that she wanted to say something. After a moment, he looked up and met her eyes. “What?” he asked.

“Mom’s pretty pissed off that you came home blackout drunk at 3:00 in the morning,” she answered. Jisung was caught off guard.

“Chae, how exactly did I get home? I didn’t drive, did I?” he asked, and she shook her head. Immediately, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Chaeryeong punched him in the arm, “but thanks for the heads up, asshole,”

Jisung groaned and rubbed his arm, which stung like a bitch. “What the hell? What heads up?”

“The heads up about Hyunjin dropping you off! I answered the door for him in my pajamas! He looked absolutely beautiful, and I was in my pajamas!” she whined, and Jisung felt his stomach drop again.

“Hyunjin drove me home?” he asked.

“Jesus, how much did you have to drink anyway? Yeah, he dropped you off.” Chaeryeong stood back up. “I think you should go back over there and thank him, and you should take me with you,” she winked at Jisung. Jisung moaned and stood up.

Just then, he felt his phone vibrate in his pants, which he never ended up taking off from last night. It was a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey, it’s Minho, I hope you don’t mind me getting your number from Hyunjin lol

Unknown: I just wanted to make sure you were doing well after last night

Unknown: Text me when you get this!

Why did Jisung’s heart get warm when he saw that?

[sparklydreamies]

Pastel Smudges

Group: NCT (Dream)

Pairing: Jaemin + Jeno

Genre: Fluff, platonic relationship

Summary: Jeno just can’t seem to paint the second hand right.

Word Count: 1,746

“Jesus Jeno, don’t put your nail polish remover so close to your laptop, you’re gonna knock it over.”

Today was NCT Dream’s first day off from practicing and promoting for over a month, but of course they couldn’t enjoy it properly due to all of the rain pouring down outside the comfort of the dorms. Most of the members decided that they were going to sleep in and watch movies all day. Jeno wanted to spend the day doing something he had been wanting to do for ages, but never had the time for. 

He was sitting on the floor of the living room, in between the coffee table and the couch. His laptop was open on the table, playing a nail tutorial video he saved a few weeks back. 

“Jaemin, you worry too much.” Jeno murmured, just loud enough for the other boy to hear. He hit play on the video as he twisted the top off of the pastel pink paint. 

“That laptop cost so much money, so when you ruin it, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Jaemin nagged, leaving to go take a shower. 

Jeno silently mocked the boy as he left, but quickly swiveled around to make sure Jaemin didn’t see it. Say what you want about Na Jaemin, but Jeno knows the dangers of not going along with his badgering. So, he moved the remover liquid from the coffee table to the side table beside the couch. 

The video did a good job with instructing him on how to apply the polish. Jeno never had much of an artistic flare when it came to things like makeup and nails, but he wanted to try hard to gain it. He always found things like this really beautiful, and wanted to show that boys could be beautiful just like girls can.

Jeno wiped off the slight bit of polish that got on the skin around his fingers, which ended up smudging the sides of his nails. he had to pause the video multiple times, since his amateur hands were not as nimble and accurate as the lady’s in the video. 

Jaemin always took long showers, so Jeno was surprised when he saw the boy walk into the kitchen. Jeno checked the time to see that he had been working on his nails for the past half hour. 

“Oh Jae...” he moaned, closing his polish again. “This is so hard, my back hurts from sitting here so long.”

Jaemin chuckled a little bit as he walked over to the couch, sitting beside where Jeno was on the floor. “That’s the price of beauty,” Jaemin sing-songed, making Jeno scoff. “Can I see them though?” Jaemin asked, holding out his hand.

“They’re not finished yet,” Jeno said, “but fine, take a look.” Jeno placed his unfinished hand into Jaemins for inspection. “They’re not done,”

“They’re not bad, Jen,” Jaemin admitted, and Jeno scoffed for the second time. 

“You don’t have to sound so surprised, Jae,” Jeno mumbled. Jaemin released Jeno’s hand and stood up from the couch, patting the other on the head. 

He began to walk back to the kitchen before he said “I didn’t think your sausage fingers were capable of making art!” Jeno tried to punch his legs as he walked away, but Jaemin jumped out of swinging range. 

Jaemin sat at the kitchen table and began scrolling through twitter mindlessly, trying to pass time. 

Jeno continued to work on his nails, sighing and groaning every now and then when he made a mistake. He ended up having to take all of the nail polish off of his pinky finger because the smudge he made was too noticeable. 

“Ah shit!” he hissed after he ruined his thumb polish by testing to see if it was dry or not. Jaemin giggled at his frustration from the kitchen, asking if he wanted help. “Shut up, Jae. I’m doing fine.” 

Not even five minutes after that, Jaemin heard his name being called from the living room. He closed his phone and made his way back to his previous position on the couch, next to Jeno who was obviously frustrated. 

“Are you finished yet?” Jaemin asked him, once again holding out his hand for the boy to take.

“One hand, yeah,” Jeno gave his finished left hand to Jaemin. 

“Really? You’ve been working on this for about an hour, and you’re only done one hand?” Jaemin teased, making Jeno even more frustrated than he was. Jaemin turned his hand over, eyeing the finished product of Jeno’s labour. “Oh wow, Jen it’s actually pretty good,” he admitted, and Jeno felt his ego boost a little bit by that. “I hope it stays on for a long time, or else that’s precious time down the drain for you.” Jeno nodded in agreement. The last thing he wants is for this polish to last for three days and then peel off. 

“So what about your second hand?” Jaemin asked, reaching for his other hand. He ran his thumb over his right hand nails, and he saw that there was just a little bit of pink polish staining the skin around them. 

“I mean I tried, but I’m right handed so it’s pretty hard to do,” he admitted sadly, which made Jaemin sad. Jaemin had been joking around about his nail polish, but it seemed to make Jeno happy. Jaemin wanted to protect anything that made Jeno happy. Plus it looked so pretty on his nails.

Jeno pouted slightly and looked up at Jaemin. “Jaemin,” he asked, “will you please help me put the nail polish on my other hand?” 

Jaemin sighed a bit. It’s not like he wanted to spend an hour putting pink nail polish on his friend, but Jaemin found it very impossible to say no to Jeno when he pouted like that. It was like a magic spell. Or maybe, more like a curse.

“Please, Jaemin?” Jeno begged, “I can’t put it on myself, and it will look weird if I walk around with only one hand painted.” 

Jaemin frowned at Jeno. “Fine. I’ll help, but you are buying me dinner tonight to make it up.” Jeno’s eyes lit up and he quickly agreed with the deal. “So.. what do I do?” Jaemin asked, shifting down to sit with Jeno on the floor. He reached over the other’s arm to grab the pink polish. 

“Okay, I’ll play the video back for you, and I’ll pause it when you need me to,” Jeno offered, but Jaemin nodded him off. “Why not?” 

“I think I’ll understand better if you explain it to me,” Jaemin countered.

“But I suck at explaining things,” Jeno said, but Jaeming tsked him off. 

“Just try your best,” Jaemin told him, “after all, you can tell me if you like yourself. She can’t even see your nails. You’re a better judge of this.” 

Jeno nodded his head, and instructed Jaemin on how to start. Jaemin held his breath as he applied the first layer of pink on Jeno’s nails. 

“Jae, you got more on my skin than you got on my nails,” Jeno complained, but Jaemin shook his head. 

“I’ll get it after.” 

They went on like that, Jaemin trying his best to make the coats even and smooth, and Jeno calling him out on everything he misses. When Jaemin was done, he moved to stand up. 

“No no no,” Jeno said, “we have to let it dry, and then you have to put another coat on it.”

Jaemin groaned at him, asking why. Jeno simply shrugged and said “That’s how it is.”

“Why do they make nail polish that is so thin it needs more than one coat? Why not just make it thicker? I don’t understand this!” he said, and sat back down on the ground. 

“It will dry faster if you blow on it.” Jeno offered. Jaemin looked at him in disbelief. 

“Blow on it yourself, Jen!” Jeno frowned at him, giving him the same exact pout that roped Jaemin into this in the first place. His eyes were bounding him in. “Goddamn it, fine.” Jaemin gave up trying to keep his dignity. 

He began to blow lightly on the fingers, making Jeno smile a bit and comment on how much it tickles. 

Finally, Jeno deemed the paint dry enough for a second coat. Jaemin was fairly careful with the first coat, wanting it to look nice and make Jeno happy, whereas with the second coat, Jaemin just wanted to be done. 

“Jaemin, you’re getting it on the skin again!” 

“Sorry, Jeno!” Jaemin took a paper towel and tried to rub it off carefully. 

“Who had the sausage fingers now, huh?” Jeno commented, making Jaemin pretend to hit him. 

Jaemin sighed at him. “You’re such a brat, Lee Jeno.” 

“But you love me a lot, right?” Jaemin stayed silent, picking up the tiny brush again. “Right?” Jeno repeated.

“Right..” Jaemin agreed, smiling slightly at the other boy’s nails. If Jeno wasn’t so cute, there was no way Jaemin would have stuck around to help him this long. 

“I love you too, Jae,” Jeno said, and Jaemin warned him not to be cheesy.

They moved on for a little while longer. Jaemin was getting used to the little instrument, and was moving faster by the end. His brush strokes were more accurate, and he began hearing more encouragements than complaints from his “client”. 

“I think I’m done,” Jaemin announced. Jeno inspected his nails, and smiled at all of the tiny smudges and light pink stains on his skin. Somehow, Jaemin even got pink nail polish on Jeno’s wrist. “Is it satisfactory?” Jaemin asked, hoping that Jeno would say yes, not only because he wanted to be done, but also slightly because he wanted Jeno to be happy with it. 

“Well,” Jeno started, “Mine is much better-”

“-well we already knew that-”

“-but, I think since it has your love in it, it's good enough.” Jaemin pretended to punch him in the arm, and stood up from his spot. 

“You know what, this was actually kind of fun.” Jaemin admitted. “You were annoying, but it was a good way to pass time.”

“I wasn’t annoying, you just weren’t doing it right, Jae,” Jeno tried to justify, making Jaemin scoff down at him. 

“Whatever.” Jaemin began to make his way back to his and Jeno’s shared room. “Anyways, I’m just glad you liked it,” he said.

“Jaemin?”

“Yeah?”

“You forgot the clear coat...”

“Screw off, Jen”

[sparklydreamies]

MASTERLIST

Genres:

☀ - Fluff

✧ - Smut

☾ - Angst

NCT

☀ Pastel Smudges - Jeno + Jaemin

Stray Kids

☀ Best Shot - ch. (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) [Unfinished Series]

☾ Stray Kids 8 Part Angst + Hurt/Comfort Series

BTS

☀ ☾  Little League- Yoongi + Hoseok