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I Don't Want To Put You Through Me: Part One

500 Follower Event! 🥳🥳🍾

♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡

Genre: 💕 Fluff 🫦 Suggestive ⚡️Angst 💔 Hurt 🌧️ Comfort.

Summary: Friends with Benefits. That's all you two were supposed to be. No feelings, no strings attached, just sex. But after a failed confession, a drunken movie night, and another member moving in for their shot, Chan realizes how hard it is to let go of someone who was never rightfully his to begin with.

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader x Yang Jeongin -> Multiple POVs

Warnings: swearing. fluff. hurt. comfort. suggestive. angst. implications of sex. rejection. heartache/heartbreak. jealousy. depictions of depression, depressive episodes, and mentions of weight loss. suggestive themes, but nothing too crazy. drinking alcohol. feelings of worthlessness, self-doubt, self-hatred. gaslighting. manipulative behavior. channie is kind of a meanie weenie pants in this one, srry

Note: the author has chosen to leave out some of the warnings to maintain an element of surprise for the reader. viewer discretion is advised.

** please remember to practice self-care as some of these themes may be triggering to some readers. **

Word Count: 22.9k

A/N: HI EVERYONE! oh my goodness I am so so happy that this piece is finally being posted. I never thought I'd get to 100 followers, much less 500! You guys are all amazing and I love you guys so much! Thanks for all the support. I hope you like what's in store because I put my heart and soul into this and it's honestly probably my favorite things I've ever written.

- love, hannji ♡

Story Inspired By -> Put You Through Me by Arrows In Action

Series Master List || Part One || Channie's Bonus || Part Two || Part Three

Enjoy! ♡

~ Chans POV ~

He knew the only reason you were trying to keep him in your bed was because you fell for him. It wasn’t hard to notice. You had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes with your mouth attached to his neck, marking him up as if he didn’t have a promo shoot tomorrow.

He didn’t stop you though. He would never stop you. He liked it. More than he was willing to admit. He liked the way you attached yourself to him, liked the way your body molded against his while you thanked him for the orgasms he’d given you one bite at a time. He liked the way your body reacted to him, how every moan he drew out of you was perfectly tuned for his ears only.

What he didn’t like though was the switch.

How one minute you were nothing more than bodies who used each other for pleasure, and the next, you were staring at him like he hung the stars.

He could never hang the stars for you. Not for anyone. He only made you see them while driving himself into you at neck-breaking speed, and then he’d disappear before they even began to fade from your eyes.

No strings attached. No feelings. That’s what you both agreed on. And yet, here you were, clinging to any post-coital affection he offered, which wasn’t much. A kiss here, a trailing fingertip there. It wasn’t hard to have you weak in the knees, but your heart was starting to bleed through, and it was only pushing him further away.

Usually, the two of you would clean up and he’d leave, sometimes without so much of a kiss goodbye, but lately you’ve been trying to find ways to keep him here. In your apartment. Like a boyfriend and not just a body.

And it sickened him. Because this wasn’t the shape your bodies were meant to take. This wasn’t the kind of mess he’d taught himself to survive. It wasn’t supposed to get this far, except, now it had. And he had to end it.

He wanted to. He needed to. But he couldn’t. Not now, not with the way you were dragging your tongue against his throat like this. Not with the way you moved your mouth down to his collarbone, swinging your leg over his body to straddle him like it was as natural as breathing. You bit down at the same time you ground your hips against his, skin on skin, rubbing deliciously against each other.

Chan let out a deep, breathy moan, blood rushing to his groin, hands flying to your hips. He let you continue your ministrations without resistance, loving and reveling in the tiny little noises that left your mouth every time you slid against him, already drenched. He brought one of his hands up, tangling it in your hair as he planted his soft, plush lips against yours, swallowing your moans and cries for more.

It was messy. Untamed. Teeth knocking against each other. Saliva pooling and slipping from the space where your lips worked in tandem. His hips moved, grinding up to match your pace. Nails dug into skin, teeth bit down in those areas that always got the most sensual reactions. It was pure lust, and Chan was just about to lift your hips just high enough to slip into you when you put your hands on his chest and pulled away from him.

The second you opened your eyes, he froze, like he could sense the danger on the horizon.

Your eyes were hooded, but doe-like, sparkling with such obvious adoration that seemed to be pouring straight from the heart. A nervous smile sat on your face as you reached down to toy with the chain around his neck, almost thoughtful.

“Channie,” you spoke low, breath shaky, nerves tingling at the edge of your tone, like you weren’t even sure you wanted to say what he knew you were going to.

His body tensed at the way his name left your mouth, a long, audible sigh spilling from his lips. Both of his hands jerked away from you like it burned, one moving to rest on his chest, the other behind his head.

“What?”

“Before we go any further, can we maybe talk?”

His body stiffened impossibly more at those eight words. He swallowed roughly, staring up at you, taking in your expression. Your eyes, still sparkling, were now turning hopeful. Your mouth pulled down into a questioning frown, waiting for an answer.

“We are. Right now.” He said flatly.

Your eyes sharpened and hit him with a pointed look. “I’m being serious, Chan.”

“So am I.” he shot back.

When you didn’t answer him, his hands returned to your hips, only to lift you off his body. He didn’t want to be having this conversation when you were still naked against him. It would only entice him to slide back into you, feeding you the words you wanted to hear just so he could ruin you and take advantage of what you were so clearly willing to give with these new feelings of yours.

He couldn’t do that. Not because he didn’t want to, but because you guys were friends first, and he knew doing so would only do more harm than good. And because he wasn’t a complete monster.

At least that’s what he told himself.

He sat there for a second, chest tight, lungs stubborn before he moved, reaching for his boxers. It was fast, rushed, though he tried to make it look not so. He had an image to maintain, but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t beginning to pump wildly in his chest, panicking at just the thought of having this conversation with you. Having this conversation was going to ruin everything if you even spoke those words, so he didn’t give you a chance to.

“I know what you’re about to say,” He finished as he buttoned his jeans and zipped them up. Your eyes widened a fraction, like you were hoping he didn’t find out, even though you were literally about to tell him.

“How do—”

“It’s written all over your face, y/n. You don’t have to say it out loud.” He said bluntly before he grabbed his phone, turned away from you and quickly texted Changbin.

Chan: SOS. Call me. Urgent.

He shoved his phone in his pocket before he turned back to you. A growl rumbled low in his chest when he saw you slipping his shirt over your head. Likely done to keep him here even longer. He tried to ignore the way it hung off your body, the hem meeting the soft skin of your thighs, nipples poking through the fabric. He bit his lip and tore his eyes away from you.

“What happened to no strings attached, huh? No feelings?” he asked as calmly as he could, which wasn’t very. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for you to respond.

You stayed silent for a second, your eyes turning from the hopeful sparkle they held into hurt masked poorly by anger and defiance.

“I thought that kind of went out the window these last few weeks. But I guess not.”

Chan scoffed and met your gaze again, quirking his brow at your words.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. He morphed his face into a look of indifference and impatience. Why hasn’t Changbin called yet?

“I’m talking about you!” you responded back, voice rising an octave to show off your frustration and hurt. “About the long glances you’re starting to send me when I’m visiting you guys at practice, or the soft touches you give when you brush against me trying to get by, or the small smiles you give me from across the room.”

Chan felt his mouth dry.

Had he really been doing that?

His fingers curled once at his sides, like his body already knew the answer even if he refused to say it out loud.

“You’re reading too much into things.” He said as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. It was your turn to then scoff, arms folding across your chest.

“You literally asked me to go grocery shopping with you at 2am. How could I not read into that?”

“The grocery thing didn’t mean anything. I needed an extra set of hands, and you were convenient enough to give them to me.” He argued back, trying to keep his voice level. You didn’t like shouting, and he was trying to be respectful of that, but irritation was beginning to boil and his guilty conscience was beginning to fade. This was why he didn’t want feelings involved. Because it turned into arguments like this.

He watched you swallow hard, like you were trying to hold back a mountain of tears. You took a second to look away from him, to regain composure, to keep your emotions at bay even though Chan could tell from just one glance that your heart was breaking ever so slightly.

He felt his gut tightening but pushed the feeling away, smothering it to nothing when your voice rang out again, this time hard and cold as ice.

“People who use each other just to get off don’t get to seek out company from each other so casually.”

Chan’s tongue twitched in his mouth, pushing against his cheek in what felt like an array of emotions. Guilt, annoyance, tiredness.

“Yeah, well, people who use each other just to get off don’t get to catch feelings either, yet here you are.” He shot back. His hand curled, twitching towards his pocket where his phone was to check if Changbin had even gotten his text or not. “You knew what I wanted and what this was. I’m not changing that. Now, can I have my shirt back?”

“Why not?!” your voice rose with your despair, eyes wide with utter confusion and total heartbreak.

“Because we’re friends, y/n! Nothing more!” He finally shouted. It wasn’t loud or booming or threatening, at least not to him. It was firm, authoritative, final. But you still flinched away from him all the same, and he instantly felt terrible about it. He lowered his voice back down and ended his defense with a hard sigh. “You’re imagining things that aren’t there because you want them to be real. But they’re not. They never will be. So please, just drop it.”

He watched your jaw tick, watched it set into stone while your eyes froze over with a cold iciness that he could feel prickling along his body. It was going to take more than a late-night booty call to fix this one. But he didn’t care about that right now. He was too busy waiting for whatever smart-ass response he knew you were going to shoot back at him with. He gave you the opportunity, hoping you’d finally say something that would get him out of the apartment before everything came crashing down.

“Friends, huh?” you bit, eyes sharp and dangerous. Chan noted you didn’t even acknowledge the second half of what he said, but he didn’t get a moment to say anything, because you spoke up once again. “And did you decide that while your head was buried between my legs earlier? Or was it when mine was between yours?”

There it was. The comment that he was waiting for. The one that would usually have him spanking you for being a brat. But now it was only fueling the fire in his bones, finally burning out the last remaining feelings of guilt he had.

Where the hell was Changbin?

Normally, Chan wasn’t this rude. Normally, he would leave on a peaceful note. A teasing joke here, a laugh there, a “what are you doing tomorrow?” while shoes were being slipped on. But ever since you started looking at him differently, he couldn’t afford to let it go on any longer. And being an arrogant asshole was the only way he knew how to make you back off while still maintaining the friendship you guys shared before.

Because if he was mean enough, if he brushed you and your feelings off enough, you would retreat, and so would your feelings. Once they retreated, things would go back to how they were, with late night ‘you up?’ texts and steamy car windows when time wasn’t on your side.

Chan shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, not even bothering to take the bait you laid out so clearly for him. It was just another way to keep him here longer than necessary. He was just about to open his mouth to respond when he felt his phone vibrating to life in his pocket.

Finally.

He dug his phone out and answered without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello,” he snapped.

“Chan, where are you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” Changbin spoke in a loud, rushed tone. Chan glanced at you, trying to ignore the glare you were piercing him with.

You were laser-focused on him, the coldness evaporating when you heard Changbin’s voice loud and clear, just like planned. Chan turned to stare at the ground, reciting the script he mapped out with the boys years ago to help them get out of sticky situations.

SOS wasn’t just a joke code. It never had been. And Changbin was the only one who was never allowed to ignore it.

“I’m sorry, Bin. I got caught up with… something. I’m heading out now.”

Changbin let out a loud, audible sigh. “Is everything okay? You don’t have to come. Hyune and I can figure it out on our own.”

Chan glanced over at you briefly, meeting your gaze once before looking away again. He couldn’t handle seeing this guarded, shut down version of you, but he also needed to get his earlier point across, which was what led him to his next words.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not important. I’ll be there soon.”

Without another word, he hung up and shoved his phone into his pocket before turning back to you, his hand outstretched impatiently.

“Can I have my shirt please? I have to go.”

The frown on your face turned back up into a scowl, no doubt because of what he said before ending the call. Defiance glazed over your face, annoyance now being thrown back at him.

Good, he thought to himself. It’s the exact reaction he was hoping for. But even though this was his goal, it didn’t stop the small, tiniest twinge of regret prick at his stomach at the look sketched onto your face.

“No,” you said flatly. Chan’s jaw clenched, patience wearing thinner by the second.

“I don’t have time for this, y/n, I have to go.” He held his hand out for you to give it back to him, but you didn’t budge.

Instead, you unfolded your arms, trying to act casual, but he could still see the hurt clinging to you. He glared at you, hard, eyes like razorblades, jaw tight with barely masked irritation as you slowly moved onto the bed. Chan couldn’t help but notice from his peripherals the way his shirt rode up, exposing yourself to him, but his eyes never left yours.

When you curled yourself against the pillows, planting yourself there with no intention of moving, he let out a string of curse words as he shook his head and turned to grab his hoodie that had been thrown on the chair in the corner.

“Whatever, I’m leaving.” He growled. He didn’t spare you another glance before he pulled the bedroom door open and stormed out of the room. He clenched his hand into a fist, fingers curling around the fabric of his hoodie when he heard your bare feet padding after him against the wooden floor.

“Chris,” you spoke, but he ignored you as he grabbed his shoes from the mat that he threw them onto when he arrived and slipped them over his feet. “Chris, wait,”

You reached out to grab his wrist, but he pulled away from you and moved to the door. He opened it and turned back to face you. You were still in his shirt, but your arms were curled around yourself like you were trying to keep your heart from completely shattering. Your eyes were on the floor, but he still saw the way they glossed over.

“I’m sorry.” You said softly before peeling the shirt off and handing it over to him. Chan couldn’t resist the urge to glance down at your naked body as he took it in his hand, eyes drinking in the curves, the slope of your breasts, the hair that fell messily against your collarbones. It was almost enough to drive him back to the bedroom despite everything he was thinking, but the next words snapped him out of his trance. “What are you doing tomorrow?" you asked, trying to keep up the routine even through the burn of his words.

He took a deep breath and exhaled loud enough to show his annoyance.

“I’ll call you,” he lied through his teeth. He turned before he could even see your reaction and hurried down the hallway, leaving you behind. He refused to admit that a small sliver of his heart stayed behind with you. He just got into the elevator and pulled his phone out, dialing Changbin back.

“Yo,” the younger male answered. “You made it out alive.”

“Barely,” Chan shrugged his shirt and hoodie on over his naked torso before the elevator reached the first floor. “You guys actually going to the studio?”

“Yeah. Just stopped to pick up food. You want us to come get you?” Changbin asked. A long breath of relief left Chans mouth the second he stepped outside. The night air was cool, fresh, and completely relaxing. He thought for a moment, looking up and down the street. No one was out this late at night. He heard cars honking in the distance, but the street your apartment was on was dead.

“I’ll meet you at the gas station on Yeongdong.” The guys knew of his late night activities, but they didn’t need to know who they were spent with.

Usually, he wouldn’t mind walking. It would help clear his head. Help him figure out what to do about you next. The distance to the studio was a bit of a walk, though he’d walked further before. But the idea of being alone with his thoughts in the dead of night suddenly didn’t sound so pleasant to him.

It gave him plenty of time to mull over what he’d just done, plenty of time for him to regret it and turn back around. Because you were right. People who only use each other to get off weren’t supposed to want company. They weren’t supposed to catch feelings.

But he did.

He was.

Everything he had said was a lie.

And he couldn’t admit it to you.

Not because he was afraid of the public eye, or what his managers or JYP would say. He knew how to handle that stuff. Had done it a thousand times before. What he didn’t know how to handle was falling in love with someone when he didn’t even like himself. How was he supposed to let himself be everything you needed and then leave every night like it was nothing?

He couldn’t.

But he also couldn’t stay.

He didn’t want to burn you with his flaws, didn’t want you feeling responsible for fixing him. He didn’t want you to see the parts of him he could barely look at himself.

He didn’t want you to deal with the nights he hated himself, the pressure, the panic, the self doubt. He didn’t want you to deal with the days that were carved up by schedules that eat him alive, because what kind of person gives you half a phone call and a hollow smile and calls it love? You deserved someone who could give you consistency, not someone who collapses into a bed after 18-hour days without so much of a “honey, I’m home”.

He knew it wasn’t fair, but he had no other choice. He had to keep numbing himself, keep pretending everything was fine, keep holding the people he cares about at arms length.

Because if he put you through all of that, all of him, it meant you’d inevitably end up finding the cracks, the jagged shards of glass that sat so deep inside of him that he’s never been able to pry them free.

He couldn’t let you touch them.

He couldn’t let them cut you.

So, he swallowed the truth, forced a breath, and kept on walking, pretending he didn’t feel every shard shift with each step he took.

~ Y/n's POV ~

“One extra large chocolate strawberry slush with extra sugar and bubbles for my favorite girl in the world,” Jeongin smiled as he placed your order on the table before taking his seat across from you, wintermelon tea in hand.

“Thanks Innie,” you smiled gratefully at him. “You always know how to cheer a girl up.”

“Wanna tell me what’s got you so upset in the first place?” he asked before stabbing his straw through the lid of his drink and taking a long sip.

You took a moment to shake your boba around, mixing everything up before stabbing your straw through it yourself.

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?” You asked with feigned confusion before taking a drink. Jeongin hit you with a pointed look.

“You only get chocolate and extra sugar in your boba when you’re really down in the dumps. Also, you haven’t stopped frowning since the minute I picked you up.”

You fidgeted and returned his stare with one of your own, indifference and denial clear on your face.

”I do not. I just wanted chocolate.” Your voice broke on the last word and you internally cursed at your body’s poor attempt at remaining composed. Jeongin just rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, letting out a long sigh.

“Y/n, I’ve known you for over a decade now. I know when something’s wrong, and I know when you’re lost in your own head. I can tell from how bad you’re picking at the skin of your thumbnail.”

You immediately stopped doing so and brushed your palms on your jeans, straightening yourself to try and look more put together, but Jeongin saw right through it. His eyes stayed glued on you, ever observant, ever tentative.

You and Chan had been sneaking around for months now, but you and Jeongin had been friends for years. Sure, you were a couple years older than him, but it didn’t stop you guys from clicking instantly at the internet café you met at. The night was filled with delicious food, good laughs, several wins under your belt and a new best friend. You two had been stuck like glue ever since.

He had introduced you to the members of his group way before you and Chan even considered sleeping with each other, but after a drunken night and an alcohol run to the store down the street, everything changed.

You tried to occupy your hands by doing something else. Clutching your drink, rubbing at the spot between your collarbones, twiddling with the cuff of your sleeve. Unfortunately, your body betrayed you, and you inevitably went back to picking at your skin the way you had been. Jeongin just let out another worried sigh and reached across the table, his large, warm hand covering yours.

“Y/n,” he waited until you pulled your gaze off the table and met his again before continuing. “What’s going on?”

The warmth of his skin, familiar and caring, tingled against your knuckles, soothing the anxiety that had been suffocating you for the last three days. You bit your lip in contemplation for a moment, thinking back to that night with Chan and debating if you should come clean about it or not.

The way Chan had thrown you off him and left had you feeling like shit, though you didn’t really know why. You knew about the code word. Jeongin had told you about it so long ago that he probably didn’t even remember doing it. But just because you knew Chan’s convenient exit was staged, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The way he snapped at you, the way he barely spared you a glance as he got dressed. You admit, you may have acted out with a petty attitude once he said what he did, but you couldn’t help it.

It’s not important.

We’re friends. Nothing more.

You’re imagining things because you want them to be real.

But they’re not.

They never will be.

You hated the way he made you feel like you were fucking crazy, and you felt a piece of your heart crack even more just thinking back onto it now. You tried to shake away the thoughts, to focus back onto the present, to focus back on your best friend, but your vision was blurred with the image of Chan standing in your bedroom, shirtless and shouting at you like you meant nothing.

Just the way he said those things to you, so casually, so quickly, so easily, made tears pool at your waterline in the moment. Because you were friends first, fuck buddies second. And friends didn’t say that about friends. But you had held your own, slipping on his shirt at an attempt to keep him close when he was so clearly pulling away.

You had mentally scolded yourself after he left, stuck in a loop of self-doubt and insecurity. Partially for acting out and trying to seduce him back to bed, but mostly because you were planning on confessing to him. You were prepared to tell him through a soft kiss, a hushed whisper in the dark of the room that you were falling for him before he threw you off him. The action gave you whiplash and left you second guessing everything.

Because that meant it was all for nothing. All the lingering glances, knowing smiles, soft absentminded touches. All the times you asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?", and his familiar response of, “Hopefully you,” that ended with a wink.

It all made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t think was normal. It was impossible for you not to have feelings for him. You were positive he was beginning to feel the same, but after he walked out, slamming the door through a series of curse words, you weren’t so sure anymore.

You hadn’t realized you were completely checked out of your conversation with Jeongin until the warmth of his fingers left yours. His hand landed on your chin, pointer finger tilting your head back up to meet his worried gaze, while his thumb sat dangerously close to your bottom lip.

Your breath hitched at the action, but your shoulders relaxed under his touch instantly, because you knew he would never touch you with ill-intent. Ever. Though you couldn’t figure out why your body tingled under his stare, and it left you swallowing nervously at the intense look in his eyes.

“Hey,” he said as he furrowed his brows in concern. “Talk to me.”

It wasn’t until you blinked did you realize the tears had returned and were threatening to spill down your cheeks in a waterfall of emotion. You didn’t want to let it out here, in the middle of a café, but your body was having a hard time masking the heartache.

When you still didn’t answer, recognition glazed over his eyes and a sad sigh left his mouth. His shoulders sagged in defeat for you.

“Is this about the guy you’ve been seeing?” he asked. He pulled the sleeve of his hoodie around his thumb before bringing the fabric up to brush at your eye where a tear had gone astray.

You sniffled once, not bothering to lie to him as you leaned into his palm. He was too good at reading you. Like an open book written just for him. He always knew what to say, what to do. How to make you smile through your tears and laugh until your ribs hurt. He was a constant in your life that you couldn’t bear to lose. Comfortable, familiar, accepting. You wish you could tell him who you were seeing, but you knew he would freak.

“Maybe,” you mumbled. You leaned down to take a long sip of your drink, trying to enjoy the chocolatey goodness, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not when your heart felt so heavy.

He pulled his hand away from your face and curled it into a fist before resting it on the table. You looked back up at him and saw the change in his demeanor before your eyes. Where softness once touched his features there was now stone. Furrowing eyebrows, clenched jaw, sharp eyes. It wasn’t a look of anger or possessiveness, it was protective.

It made something shift inside your gut, though you didn’t have time to decipher it.

“Did he do something?” he asked through his teeth, voice low and dangerous. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you shook your head quickly, back and forth, back and forth, hands reaching out to grab his in reassurance.

“No! No, it’s nothing like that, I swear.” You rushed to explain. The tension in his shoulders loosened, but his face remained cold and hard, like a block of ice. “I promise.”

Jeongin’s eyes searched yours, trying to find any hint of a lie, and when he found none, he let out a breath of relief and squeezed the hand that was holding his.

“Then what—” he paused, gaze flittering across your face as if your freckles held all the answers he was searching for.

Your eyes, which were probably still sporting the red and puffy look they have been for the last 3 days. The dark circles under them from the hours you laid awake, doomscrolling sad TikToks instead of sleeping. Your lips and how they were peeled and chapped, like you’ve bitten them enough times to try to stop the tears from coming back, only to break skin and let them bleed.

You knew the moment he figured it out because the worried glint in his eyes morphed back into soft recognition, frown deepening, thumb rubbing reassuringly across your knuckles.

“You confessed to him.” He stated. Not in question, not in anger, just gentle.

A hiccup left your mouth, heart squeezing from just hearing him say it out loud. You felt foolish, stupid, completely humiliated for even thinking Chan felt an ounce of something for you in return. You didn’t trust yourself to respond, so you just nodded hollowly and curled your bottom lip into your mouth.

“And it didn’t go well?” he asked with a small wince. You blew out a long breath and shrugged like it wasn’t the biggest heartbreak you’d ever gone through.

“He rejected me.” Jeongin’s eyes didn’t widen in surprise like you expected them to. Not because he knew you were going to be let down, but because he always thought this “mystery person” you had been seeing was a total jackass. Because what kind of person treats you like a girlfriend but still chooses to hide you away?

If only he knew.

“He spewed some bullshit about being friends and nothing more.” You stopped for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek while debating to say the rest. “Told me I was imagining things because I wanted them to be real.”

But they’re not.

They never will be.

To your complete surprise, Jeongin shook his head and let out a laugh. It wasn’t one of those belly laughs that had you throwing your head back, or the kind that had you clutching your stomach while tears threatened to spill. It was low and dark and humorless, like he couldn’t even believe what you said.

“What a fucking loser,” he growled before taking a long drink. “Any guy would be lucky to be with you.”

You blinked a couple times, completely caught off guard by his words before you cleared your throat. “Yeah, well, tell that to him.”

“Give me his name and phone number and I will.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his again, and you froze at the seriousness and determination in his stare. He looked like he was on the verge of grabbing your phone off the table and searching for it himself, but you knew he would never. If he ever found out that the name and number was Chans, he would lose his shit. All of the members would.

“Innie, it’s fine. It’s nothing. I’m practically over it,” you waved away his concern with as much nonchalance as you could muster, which wasn’t a lot. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth to stop it from trembling, hiding your hands in the sleeves of your hoodie to stop them from shaking, crossing your legs to stop them from bouncing. You tried so hard to mask all the telltale signs that you were definitely not okay, but he didn’t believe you for a second.

A part of you knew he wouldn’t, and you couldn’t deny there was a very small sliver of you that hoped he wouldn’t. Because even through all your heartache and pain, he was always the one to hold you while you healed. Every ex-boyfriend, every loss, every ounce of grief you’ve felt, he was the one who was always there, like a shelter in the storm. He was the only source of comfort you consistently had, and you didn’t know what you’d ever do without him.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore, but it’s not nothing.”

Your gaze found his again and you couldn’t help the way the corners of your mouth tilted up into the tiniest hint of a smile. He always knew what to say and when to say it. He sent you a one-hundred-watt grin in return before moving his attention to his drink. It gave you a moment to just sit and stare at him in silence like you sometimes did when you couldn’t believe how great of a friend he was to you.

Jeongin had the kind of face people never took seriously at first. Soft features, kind eyes, a smile that could flip from harmlessly cute to mischievous in half a second. He looked like someone who’d get away with things just by tilting his head the right way, and you hated to admit that he had countless times before.

His skin was unfairly smooth, even on his bad days, and his hair was worse. Always fluffy, always sitting just right, like it was styled by accident. You noticed it more than most people did. That wasn’t weird, though. You noticed a lot of things about him because you were around him all the time.

Sometimes you caught yourself staring a second too long, watching the way his hair fell into his eyes when he laughed, or the way it stuck up when he ran a hand through it absentmindedly. Sometimes you reached up to fixed it for him without thinking, fingers brushing through soft strands like it was second nature. You were the only one he’d let do that, but that was just because you were you. His grin would widen every time, eyes bright and just a little too knowing, like he was amused by something you couldn’t see.

He never demanded attention, never tried to stand out, and somehow, he was still the most noticeable person in the room. And he always stared at you like you were too.

Kind of like he was right now.

You snapped back into reality, your vision sharpening as the world faded back in around you. Jeongin was just sitting there, sporting that same amused gaze on his face, his eyebrow slightly lifted like he was waiting for you to look away. You turned your head away from him quickly, cheeks blazing hot.

“Sorry,” you shook your head like you thought the action would help clear the fog that was actively filling your brain. “Zoned out for a second.”

“I can see that,” he smirked. “But that’s okay. You’re cute when you get lost in the sauce like that.”

You sent him a playful glare, swinging your leg out to kick him in the shin. He let out a loud, warm laugh that melted some of the leftover tension away from your bones. Instead of fighting back, he just crumpled up the wrapper to his straw and flicked it at you, letting it hit you square in the face before it fell to the floor.

“You’re ridiculous,” you stated like it was a fact. His smile turned down into another smirk.

“And you’re oblivious,” he stated just as firmly.

You were about to swing your leg back to kick him again when his phone vibrated from where it sat on the table, startling both of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath as he tapped away. “Lee Know just called an emergency dance practice.”

A twinge of disappointment formed in your gut at the news. The two of you, plus Seungmin whenever he finished his vocal lessons, were supposed to head to an internet café to have lunch and put in some hours of gaming. You hadn’t done so in a while due to your schedules never lining up and you were really excited for it, but now, duty called, and who were you to try and stop the boys from doing their jobs?

Jeongin gave you a guilty look, the corners of his mouth turned down in disappointment, like he was genuinely upset that plans got ruined, no matter how much he cherished his job. He eyed you carefully.

“What are you going to do?” He asked before attempting to chug the rest of his drink. You lifted your shoulder in a half shrug, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice. After the incident with Chan you were really looking forward to being around your friends, around people who actually enjoyed being in your presence in the daylight.

“I don’t know,” you faked nonchalance. “I’ll finish up here and probably head home then. I’ve got work to catch up on, so I’ll probably do that and watch that anime you told me about.”

Jeongins frown deepened impossibly more as you shrugged your shoulders again, playing off your disappointment as indifference. He shook his head before you finished getting the sentence out.

“That’s ridiculous. You spend all your time holed up in your apartment already because of work. There’s no way I’m letting you do that on your day off.”

Before you could respond, he got up and grabbed your empty cup and moved to throw both of them in the garbage. Instead of coming back, he went to order another round of drinks for the two of you, plus one for Seungmin, before coming back to the table.

“Come on,” he said, extending his hand to you, pulling you to your feet with a mischievous smile. “Dance practice is never fun unless you’re there.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he was dragging you out the door, handing you the bag of drinks so he could text Seungmin and let him know the change of plans, saying you two would meet him there. Despite your protest, you walked easily next to him, already accepting your afternoon fate, because arguing with Jeongin was like arguing with a brick wall.

The weather was nice, the late summer sun beaming down on the two of you, the warm breeze heavy against your skin as you walked down the street, avoiding passersby and giggling about anything and everything. He told you about the upcoming album release and the top-secret plans of another world tour, and you told him about your promotion at work and the dog that lived across the hall from you who just gave birth.

Conversation came easy, as it always did. You could probably tell him you woke up with a third arm or missing a toe and he’d still think whatever you had to say was the most important thing in the world.

Even now, while you talked about the new hotpot place you wanted to take him to, he was sporting that smile reserved only for you, hand resting on your elbow to help steer you in and out of the crowd flawlessly. It wasn’t until you reached the lights across the street from the JYPE building did he bring up him again.

“So, what are you going to do about mystery man?” he asked, wincing slightly from mentioning him again, but invested in your response in case he needed to interfere. He shifted the tray of drinks he was holding from one hand to the other, trying to alleviate the strain in his muscles from carrying it for so long. You guys had stopped a few blocks back to pick up coffee for the rest of the guys per Lee Know’s request.

You shrugged your shoulders, heart deflating a little bit at his question. He only asked out of the goodness of his heart, to check in and make sure you were okay enough to face the rest of the group, and you loved him for that.

“I don’t know. There’s not much I can do. He rejected me.” You tried to act casual, like you were talking about the weather, but your voice trembled. Jeongin turned to face you and brushed a strand of hair out of your face that had been tousled by the wind. His hand lingered longer than necessary, but you ignored it. You were used to his affection.

“Are you still going to… see him?” he asked cautiously, his eyes curious but bracing for your answer. You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze and instead, focusing on the green light that was taking forever to turn red.

You didn’t want to. You felt like you never wanted to see Chan again, not in that way at least, but you couldn’t deny the want you still felt for him. The need you had, taking him however you could, even if it wasn’t in the way you wanted. Feelings like this didn’t change overnight, no matter how badly you wanted them to.

Jeongin must’ve taken your silence as all the answer he needed, because he reached down and linked your pinky with his, something you two have been doing for as long as you could remember, and smiled sadly down at you when your eyes landed back on his. “Just, be careful if you do, okay? I know feelings like that don’t just disappear, but they won’t begin to if you keep seeing him the way you are.”

His words hit differently than you thought they would. He was right. You’d forever continue feeling this way if you let yourself. If you continued to see Chan in secret, the heartbreak would hurt more. The sudden thought of seeing him in person like you were about to, surrounded by your friends in the setting of a hard-working afternoon, had struck you like a lightning bolt.

You weren’t ready to face him. And knowing you were about to made your heartbeat rise quicker than ever before.

The light turned red and the sharp beep of the crosswalk deafened your ears, eyes unfocused as Jeongin pulled you along with him. Your feet somehow managed to keep up with his long strides as you crossed the road, nearly bumping into people as you walked, eyes wide and full of rotten anticipation.

When you both had made it to safety on the other side, your feet stopped, pinky disconnecting from Jeongins so suddenly he snapped his head back to you to see if you were okay. The second he caught the look on your face his eyebrows softened into a look of guilt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up again.” He whispered, hand moving to brush more hair out of your face again. You blinked a couple times when he pulled you in for a hug, lips finding your forehead in a silent apology.

“It’s okay,” you managed as the flashbacks began to disappear from your vision once more, shoulders relaxing slightly, eyes focusing back in on the present. “But let’s just not bring him up anymore.”

“Deal,” Jeongin smiled down at you. “My lips are sealed. Now lets go.” He pulled you along with him into the JYPE building, nodding to the security and ladies working the front desk, and towards the elevator. The elevator ride felt long, allowing your nerves to bundle together in a fight between heartache and anger.

Heartache because you knew you were about to see him again for the first time since the fight and you didn’t think you’d survive it, but anger because how dare he make you feel this way. How dare he make you feel scared and insecure about seeing your friends. How dare he say these things to you without even considering how you two would continue being around each other out in the open.

Was he going to ignore you, making it blatantly obvious you two had fought, though no one would know the reason? Would he act like nothing happened and treat you the same way he had been? Would the long moments of knowing eye contact remain, or would both of you avoid each others gazes completely?

The idea of the change in dynamic didn’t even occur to you before hand, but now, just thinking about it made something twist deep in your gut. Irritation, anger, annoyance. For someone who always put the kids before himself, who always thought of their feelings and safety before his, he didn’t even consider once what this would do to the group.

Or he did and just didn’t care.

Either way, you weren’t about to let him see just how deeply his words affected you. You weren’t going to let him and his actions affect the rest of the people you both loved and cared about and surrounded yourselves with. You wouldn’t let him see how much you were breaking.

So, when Seungmin joined you in the elevator passing the third floor, taking his bubble tea and giving you a hug, you remained the same you always had been with the boys. Happy, excited, at ease. And you told yourself you would continue to do so after the three of you stepped off the elevator and into the practice room, because there was no way in hell you were going let Bang fucking Chan think the fight – or his rejection- had affected you at all.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

~ Chan's POV ~

When the door to the practice room opened, Chan felt something pinch deep within his gut. You walked in with Jeongin and Seungmin, laughing and smiling, carrying a tray of coffee for everyone, excluding the bubble tea you and the two boys still held, still full and dripping condensation from their chill. As soon as the rest of the boys saw you, they stopped mid-dance and ran to greet you in surprise.

Hyunjin grabbed desperately at the tray to get his coffee as quickly as possible while Felix pulled you into a tight hug—first Felix, then Lee Know. Then Changbin wrapped you up and twirled you around in his arms once, setting you down with only enough time to straighten yourself before Han basically tackled you to the ground, cheeky smile wide on his face.

They all spoke over each other, asking how you were, where you've been, and why you haven't been around much anymore. You answered them all with ease, the smile on your face not dropping for a second.

When the crowd of rowdiness parted, you looked at Chan through the reflection of the mirror, eyes meeting, smile remaining in place.

"Hey," you called casually, waving your hand awkwardly in his direction. "Coffee's in the tray for you."

It was like the other night's events didn't happen at all, and he felt his heart shrink. The look of heartbreak on your face that night had been plaguing him for days. He thought for sure the next time he saw you, you would be cold and distant and totally ignore him. He wasn't expecting this.

This is what you wanted, he reminded himself as he waved back nonchalantly. So you don't get to be upset now that she's doing what she's told.

Still, it irked him in a way he didn't think possible. The way you cooly sipped your drink and smiled at him. It was the way you smiled at everyone else in the room. Respectful. Friendly.

It wasn't the slow, seductive, flirty smile he was used to seeing on your face every time your eyes met in private, or the knowing and cheeky smile you'd give him in public when you knew no one else was watching.

It was friendly and calm, the way it had been back before you two started seeing each other naked.

He hated that he was getting mad about it.

His mood shifted instantly because of this, against his will. Felix was the first one to catch it, noticing Chan was still standing in the middle of the room, watching you with eyes that had grown cold.

"You okay, mate?" Felix asked as he walked Chan's coffee over to him. Chan blinked a couple of times and shook his head as if to physically shake the irritation away.

"Yeah, just a little dazed from that last run through. We should probably sit and take a break," he said as he grabbed his coffee and took a sip. It was perfect, just the way he liked it, and he knew it was your doing. Nobody else knew he liked a little bit of vanilla in his coffee with a drop of cinnamon. If the boys knew he liked to spruce up his coffee with something other than sugar, he'd never hear the end of it.

Upon Felix's question, your eyes found his in the mirror again, from where you were now sitting with Jeongin and Han on the couch. The rest of the boys lounged about on the floor around you, talking amongst themselves and scrolling through their phones while they sipped their drinks.

Again, the look on your face wasn't cold or closed-off. It wasn't worried or concerned, mad or heartbroken. Just curious.

He walked over to where the rest of you were relaxing and leaned against the mirror, trying to focus on anyone else except for you. The way your hair was loosely falling out of its braid, the small star-shaped pimple patch on your cheek, and the lack of makeup on your face. You had always been beautiful with makeup, but without it, Chan thought you looked so gorgeous it always made his heartbeat quicken.

"So, y/n. Have you tried out that italian place down on Dongnam? Eum 456, I think it's called." Han asked as he hooked his arm around your shoulders and smiled fondly down at you. When you shook your head at him, he nudged you with his opposite hand. "Do you want to go sometime? We haven't been out to dinner in a while."

Chan's shoulders instantly tensed. From Han's blatant question or the arm around your neck, he wasn't sure, but a possessive growl threatened to escape his mouth. Your gaze met his briefly, eyes widening a fraction.

The two of you had ordered from there last month, sitting across from each other on the bed with the same restaurant's logo printed on the bag. Legs tucked under you, soft laughter, voices free, like the world outside your apartment no longer existed.

You cleared your throat, and the microsliver of panic that crossed your features was gone before anyone could see it. Chan saw it, though. He always saw it.

"Yeah, actually, I have. Their dishes are good," you said with a guilty smile as you took a long chug of your drink and set it on the floor by your feet.

The smile on Han's face faltered a little bit, and Chan couldn't stop the sick feeling of pride that filled his chest at that.

That's right, he thought. He was the one who got you food from there. And he was the one you ate it with.

Han's arms disappeared from your shoulders, and he pouted up at you.

"You went with Jeongin and not me?" he asked in fake disbelief. An awkward laugh left your mouth when Jeongin peered around you to look at Han with a look of innocence. His free hand came up in surrender as he took a sip of his bubble tea.

"Hey, I didn't take her. If I took y/n out somewhere fancy, you'd never hear the end of it," he defended himself. Han looked from his member to you, his facial expression growing confused.

"You didn't go with Jeongin? But you go everywhere with Jeongin," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jeongin grinned at that, unmistakably pleased. "I see my reputation precedes me."

Jeongin then leaned back into the couch, stretching his arm along the backrest, close enough that if you leaned back even an inch, you'd be touching him.

You didn't lean in, but you didn't lean away either.

Chan's fingers tightened around his cup.

"Since you didn't go with me, who did you go with?" Jeongin asked as he tilted his bubble tea towards you to share. You took a long sip of his offering before lifting your shoulders in a shrug.

"It was takeout," you said easily, though Chan could see the sudden tension in your shoulders. "Not really a 'going out' situation."

"That wasn't the question," Jeongin replied, amused. He leaned closer, lowering his voice the way he always did when he wanted the truth. "Who was it?"

Chan watched the way your face broke, just for a fraction of a second. The look of the heartache you felt flashed across your face before it was gone again.

Jeongin must've noticed it too, because his teasing expression instantly turned downwards into a worried frown, and then, unexpectedly, it turned back up again into a deep, angry scowl.

"Wait, did you go with that guy?" he asked bluntly. Chan’s shoulders tensed up at the question, his attention fully on you and the conversation now despite Changbin talking to him by his feet. Thankfully, everyone's heads whipped towards you and Jeongin, so he didn’t have to worry too much about it.

"A guy?" Han looked at you with widened eyes.

"There's a guy?" Hyunjin's voice rose an octave at the news.

"You've been seeing a guy?" Changbin then cut in, his thoughts on tomorrows practice completely gone.

Chan could see the nervousness in your shoulders, the panic in your eyes. He swallowed roughly, using every ounce of his willpower not to react, not to move.

"Funny, I always pictured you seeing a girl," Seungmin cut in with a light tone.

Nobody laughed, too focused on the news to even register his joke, though you sent him a small smile.

"Yeah," you chewed the inside of your cheek. Chan could practically see the gears in your head turn uncontrollably, and for a moment, he was worried about what you would say.

After a long second of silence, you let out a huff of laughter and pinned a smile to your face, though it didn't fully reach your eyes.

"But it doesn't matter now. It's over between us."

Another punch to the gut, another sliver of guilt, another part of his heart shrinking like it was being vacuum-sealed closed.

Lino was the one who spoke up next with surprising gentleness, which only made Chan feel all the worse.

"What did he do?"

His voice was soft, but the protectiveness in it was lethal.

You shook your head and, much to Chan's dismay, finally fell back into Jeongin's body, his arm automatically curling around your body as you carved yourself into his side. Your jaw tightened for a moment, fire glazing over your eyes just long enough for everyone to see the anger behind it.

Not heartbreak, not sadness. Just anger.

Chan's jaw clenched so hard he was surprised no one heard the grinding of teeth against teeth.

"It's not important," you stated with finality.

It's not important.

The exact words he used on you were now being thrown back at him, and he deserved every second of it. He physically flinched at your words. Thankful that everyone's attention was on you, but yours was subtly on him, staring at his torso, not willing to meet his face.

It was the reaction he had been looking for, hoping for, but now that he had it, he regretted wishing for it.

He barely registered Changbin's confused and suspicious gaze falling onto him. He just kept his eyes on you, watching your every move, every expression, like he could burn a hole right through you.

You must've felt his gaze on you, because your eyes lifted to meet his, and your expression faltered again, just for a second, and Chan felt like he had been stabbed.

"Why won't you tell us?" Felix asked, concern and hurt lacing his tone.

You shrugged your shoulders and fidgeted with a string hanging off the cuff of your hoodie.

Jeongin was the one who spoke up after, and as if Chan hadn't already been feeling shitty enough, the next words out of his maknae's mouth made him feel like the biggest piece of shit ever known to man.

"She won't tell me who he is either, but trust me, he's a fucking douche."

That alone should've made him snap, made him apologize for ever treating you the way he did, and he was about to, but then he saw the way you turned your head up to meet Jeongin's gaze, a small smile on your lips, faces inches apart, and he faltered.

He knew Jeongin liked you; he had heard him talk about it multiple times at home. He always just thought it was a stupid crush, but he could see now it wasn't.

He could see it in the way that Jeongin's attention never fully left you, and that should've tipped him off sooner. Even as the conversation shifted. When Changbin complained about practice schedules, Jeongin hummed along, fingers absently dancing across your hip. When Seungmin joked about Han's dramatic disappointment in the breakfast that Lee Know cooked for him, Jeongin smiled, but his eyes always flew back to you, checking to see if you were laughing too.

He saw it in the way Jeongin always subtly shifted closer when you looked tired. The way he always handed you his jacket without asking, draping it over you as if it had always been his job. The way he lowered his voice when he spoke to you, like the room didn’t need to hear what you two were saying.

That wasn’t flirting.

That was care.

That was love.

And Jeongin was in love with you.

Not in a loud, reckless way. Not in a way that demanded anything from you. But in the way he stayed close without crowding you. In the way he protected your silence. In the way he let you choose, even if the choice wasn’t him.

He loved you.

The right way.

A sudden rush of annoyance and anger washed through Chans veins.Because you were supposed to be his. Metaphorically speaking. Jeongin wasn't allowed to be in love with you.

He knew it was a stupid, selfish thought, but he had you first. Sure, you and Jeongin had been friends for a very long time, but Chan was the first one to kiss you, the first one to hold you, the first one to have you, and he wasn't going to let his fucking maknae take you away from him, no matter how much he loved him like a brother.

"Okay. Back to practice," he snapped, finally having enough of watching the two of you together.

All eyes turned to him, and he turned away, setting his coffee on the ground and moving to get back into position to run the choreo again. He tried to be subtle in the way he watched you in the mirror, masking his irritation into something tamer, but when Jeongin landed a quick kiss to the side of your head before standing up, his teeth ground together in a way that made his jaw begin to tingle.

It was a friendly gesture, one he's seen many times, but now it hit different. Now, he didn't have the pleasure of knowing he would end up in your bed later. Now he just had to sit with it.

You did this to yourself, idiot.

For the next two hours, they ran choreo. Again and again and again. Even after Han perfected his leg kick, after Changbin finally got his timing right, after Seungmin figured out the spacing for his centre bridge. He had them keep at it.

And he couldn't help but glance over at you every time they restarted, every time they fell back into position, every time Jeongin smiled at you during a break in the music. The concern on your face grew with each "Again," that shot out of his mouth.

Every time a member brought their shirt up to wipe at the sweat on their forehead, every time one of them would grow sluggish and half-ass their movements, every time they would glare at Chan in the mirror for his sharp, clipped demands, like a commander at war.

Your concern grew, but you didn't say a word.

He felt bad. He never liked working the boys to the point of exhaustion, but if he didn't stop, he was afraid he would break. So he kept going. And he couldn't help but notice how all his anger was directed towards Jeongin unintentionally. Or intentionally. He lost that reasoning after the twenty-third run through.

"You're stepping wrong," "You didn't put enough force into that stomp," "You need to step in at the right time, or it throws Hyunjin off of his dance break."

All of this, and more, was directed at Jeongin as if he were trying to punish the younger male for his own mistakes. And they noticed. You noticed.

"Chan, maybe we should call it for the day," Felix spoke up. His tone was soft, but his exhaustion and annoyance shone bright. "We can pick it up tomorrow after lunch."

"I want it perfected now so we don't have to come back tomorrow after lunch," Chan snapped. The usual look of hurt that would've crossed Felix's face didn't come through. Instead, Chan noted the way Felix's jaw flexed, a hard glare shot to his leader without a hint of remorse, and that's how he knew Felix wasn't backing down.

"It is perfected," the Aussie's voice was calm, but there was a hard edge to his tone. "We ran it through a hundred times with no problems; it can't get much more perfect than that."

Chan let out a long, audible exhale and scratched the back of his neck. He took a moment to move his eyes from one member to the next. They all wore faces of exhaustion, sweat dripping down their foreheads, clothes damp. When they landed on Jeongin and the way his chest was heaving, fox-eyes begging to be done, Chan knew it was time to call it.

"Fine. We're done for the day, but be back tomorrow at two."

And with that, Chan picked up his half-finished coffee, threw it into the garbage at the door and left without another word. All without looking your way.

He was halfway to the staircase, desperate to get up to the roof and get some air into his lungs before they exploded, when a door slammed, and your voice echoed down the hallway behind him.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Chan barely had time to turn around before you were approaching him, footsteps sharp, fury planted across your face. He was surprised to see you with that look. You always had such kindness in your features and in the way you held yourself. But that's what he got for treating you the way he did.

"What?" he asked, forcing his tone flat, bored, and defensive, as if he had a right to be. "What are you talking about?"

"That!" you snapped, jabbing your finger down the hall. "Whatever the hell that was back there!"

"That was work, y/n," he said stiffly, "It comes with the territory."

"No," you snapped back. "That? That was torture."

Chan's jaw tightened. He opened his mouth to shoot a reply back, but you cut him off before he could even get a word out, your anger growing with each syllable.

"Don't insult me, Chris," you continued, voice rising. "I have eyes. I saw the looks you kept throwing at me. I saw the way you were snapping at everyone, at Jeongin, like he'd done something wrong for just existing near me."

Chan exhaled sharply, rubbing at his face. "He didn't do anything. It's not my fault he wasn't getting the steps down."

You let out a sharp, humourless laugh.

"Oh, so this isn't about him?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. "It isn't about the way he let me take a sip of his drink, or because his arm was around my shoulders? Or the way he kissed the side of my head before going back to practice?"

Chan's eyes flickered, and his shoulders visibly tightened, all of which you caught.

"Because, news flash, none of that is new." You stepped closer, voice dropping but still cutting deep. "That's how we've always been. And that’s how we will continue to be."

"Y/n —"

"No," you snapped, closing the distance completely now. "You don't get to interrupt me. You don't get to punish them just because you're pissed at me."

You jabbed your nail into his chest.

"You were the one who wanted this." The words began to spill out, raw and unfiltered. "You were the one who walked out. You were the one who threw me off like I didn't matter and then left like it was just another night."

Chan could hear the way your voice began to shake, but you didn't stop.

"So don't stand there and glare at me as if I've betrayed you. Don't act territorial. Don't act jealous. You made your choice."

Chan swallowed hard, his annoyance dissipating at the hurt that was beginning to seep into your tone.

"That's not—"

"It is," you cut in again. "You don't get to come back three days later and start a silent competition with someone who doesn't even know what the hell is going on!"

Your chest rose and fell as you tried to steady yourself.

"I am not your secret," you said, quieter now as you blew out a less-than-calming breath. "I am no longer your comfort when you're lonely, or an ego boost when someone else looks at me like I matter. You don’t want me, and that was your choice."

Chan opened his mouth. And then closed it. He was at a loss for words, had no idea how to even begin to respond.

A smug feeling erupted in his chest because it was proof that you weren't as composed and put together as you tried to make yourself be. It means you still cared.

"I am never letting you into my bed again."

That landed heavily in his gut. The finality behind them had him swallowing an unexpected lump in his throat.

You stepped back before he could say anything, before he could reach for you, before he could try to pull you back in.

"I'm done," you said simply.

Then you turned on your heel and walked away, head held high despite the visible shaking of your hands.

You didn't look back.

And another piece of himself cracked as he watched you go.

~ Y/n's POV ~

A couple of days passed.

Two.

Then Five.

Then Nine.

Then the time started blur. Enough of it had gone by that you stopped counting because the number of days started to become unimportant to you.

The fight with Chan plagued your mind, replayed in your head on a loop. The hurt, buried beneath layers of anger, and the way his face fell when you threw it at him. The way you finally said no and told him he wasn't allowed back in your bed. The way your chest burned as you walked away, telling yourself this is it, this is where it ends.

When you had left the building that day, sucking in air desperately to relieve the pounding in your ears and the buzzing in your chest, you were proud of yourself in the way you stood your ground.

Because you did it. But just because you fixed him with a friendly smile and kind stare, it didn't mean you didn't feel sick to your stomach all the same.

You saw the way he watched you out of the corner of his eye, the way his jaw clenched when you leaned into Jeongin's side, the way he worked the guys to the bone and laid his annoyance on thick with Jeongin for the entire practice, like he had the audacity to be jealous.

But you stood up to him all the same, and you were proud of yourself. Though, unfortunately, the adrenaline and pride had quickly faded.

Because that same night, when your doorbell rang at 1:06 am, you still let him in without a word, without so much as a glance his way. You just unlocked the deadbolt and made your way towards your bedroom, not bothering to look back to see if he would follow. He always did.

You didn't talk as you led him down the hallway, past the couch where you'd cried earlier with your face buried in a pillow so the neighbours wouldn't hear, past the kitchen where dirty dishes lay untouched because you couldn't bring yourself to care once you got home.

You didn't need words.

Words were what ruined things in the first place.

In the bedroom, you let him touch you like it meant something, even though you knew it didn't. You clung to the heat of his skin, the weight of him on top of you, the familiar shape of his hands, desperate to feel anything other than the hollow ache spreading through your chest.

And for a few hours, the emptiness quieted.

He left before the sun came up, like he always did. And you didn't watch him go. You just stayed on your back, staring at the ceiling, throat tight, hatred pooling slowly and thick in your stomach. Not for him, but for yourself.

You hated how easily you folded. How your boundaries evaporated the second he showed up. How everything you'd said in the hallway dissolved the moment he knocked. You hated that some small, traitorous part of you had hoped he'd stay, despite it all.

After that, the days bled together.

You stopped replying to group chats. Stopped opening your blinds. Stopped wearing anything that wasn't soft, oversized and easy to sink into.

But you still let him in all the same.

Your apartment became a cocoon you couldn't escape, too quiet, too still, every surface reminding you of a life you weren't living properly anymore.

But, again, you still let him in all the same.

You told Jeongin you were sick. Which wasn't a lie. You were sick, but it wasn't something medicine could fix.

You: think I caught something. Gonna stay in today, sorry Innie.

The reply came almost immediately.

Jeongin: Again?

Jeongin: Want me to come by?

Your fingers hovered over the screen. You imagined him in your living room, legs spread across the couch, eyes searching your face the way they always did. He would notice the change in weight, the way your smile didn't quite reach your eyes anymore, the way your shoulders were now permanently slumped. He would ask questions you didn't know how to answer.

You: No, really, I don't want you to get sick. I'm fine. Promise.

You hated yourself a little more for sending it.

You know he didn't care about getting sick. He just cared about you.

From then on out, the lies stretched into weeks. You slept too much, ate too little, let the guilt and shame settle deep into your bones until it felt permanent. At night, when the city went quiet, your mind betrayed you, replaying the hallway, the fight, the way you told Chan you were done.

And then the way you still opened the door. That part hurt the most. Not that he kept coming back, but that you let him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock came on an early Thursday evening.

Three sharp taps against the door, and you froze.

It wasn't late, so it wasn't Chan. Though a stupid, small sliver of you hoped it was.

"Y/n," Jeongin's voice floated through the door, soft but insistent. "I know you're home."

It felt like your chest tightened and relaxed at the same time. Warmth flooded your veins at the sound of his voice, but it froze over at the sound of worry that it was tinged with.

You managed to pull yourself up from the couch where you sat, wrapped in a blanket, staring at a show you had paused an hour ago, and padded over to the door, opening it slowly. As soon as you were in view, he took one look at you, and his expression completely collapsed.

"Jesus," he breathed, fox-like eyes filling with concern. "You look awful."

You let out a weak huff of laughter, as much as you could muster, though it wasn't a lot.

"Gee, thanks."

He didn't smile. Instead, his eyes scanned you, investigating the damage like he was a detective tasked with a bloody homicide. Your hollow cheeks, the bags under your eyes, the way your hoodie swallowed you whole, the exhaustion clinging to you like second skin.

"You've been 'sick' for almost a month," he said quietly. "You stopped answering my calls."

You shrugged and picked at the raw skin on your thumb, unable to meet his gaze. "Didn't feel like talking."

"That's not normal for you." You didn't need to look up to know he was frowning down at you. You swallowed roughly, but didn't say another word as you moved aside to let him in. He went straight to your kitchen without asking, setting a grocery bag on the counter as if he'd already planned for this outcome.

"I brought soup," he said. "And ginger tea. And those crackers you seem to love so much, even though I think they're disgusting."

Your throat burned, stomach growling at the thought of a real meal that didn't consist of instant ramen and ice cubes.

"You didn't have—"

"I know," he interrupted gently. "I wanted to."

He turned to face you fully, eyes soft but serious as he placed his hands on your shoulders. You dropped your head, shame filling your gut, but he reached out and lifted your chin with his finger, the way he had done at the cafe all those weeks ago, and something in your stomach fluttered, though you were sure it was just hunger.

"You don't get to disappear on me," he said. "Not like this."

Your heart cracked the same way his voice did.

Without another word, he pulled you into the kitchen with him and set you on one of your old barstools before he got to work making you dinner. You sank onto the wood, hands twisting together in your lap as you watched him.

"You don't have to talk," he said as he plugged in your kettle and turned on the stove. "But I'm staying."

And for the first time in weeks, you didn't push him away. You just sat and stared at him while he stood there and stayed.

This quickly became routine, and Chan quickly faded into the background, almost without notice.

At some point, you stopped answering his dry, midnight texts of “you up?” with your own “doors open.” You stopped answering the door when he showed up, stopped listening to him apologize through the wood.

“I’m sorry.” “I never meant to hurt you.” “Please let me in. I need you tonight. Please, baby.”

And at some point he stopped trying.

All the while Jeongin kept doing so.

He showed up with groceries once, then twice. Then again, with takeout and no explanation other than 'You forget to eat when you're sad'.

He knew you weren't sick, though you didn't have to say it out loud. He knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew you were sad, still upset about the 'mystery guy', but he didn't force you to talk about it. He just existed in the space around you, making sure you never felt alone.

He didn't push when you brushed him off or when you went quiet halfway through a conversation. He just stayed. He slept on your couch, sat on the floor and folded your laundry without comment, turned on your lights when it got too dark and you simply just forgot. Or just didn't want to.

Sometimes he talked. About practice, about Felix stealing his hoodies, about a show he wanted to watch that he thought you'd like. Some days he didn't say anything, and some days you didn't either.

But he was there regardless.

And it was easy with him; that was the thing.

There were no expectations, no tension crackling under every touch. He never reached for you unless you leaned in first, never lingered too long, never tried to turn closeness into something it wasn't.

As the weeks dragged on, you felt some of that tightness in your chest begin to loosen. You hadn't returned to visit the guys at practice since that day, but you began to text them again. Individually, of course, not the whole group. But you still reached out and responded to them all the same.

All but him.

And slowly, almost against your will, you started to feel lighter.

Your laughs came back in pieces, your smiles stopped hurting, and your apartment started to feel lived in again.

And despite telling him to go home, Jeongin still showed up when he could. He still came, still did your laundry, still helped clean the dishes. He cooked you food and sat with you on the couch when you were stuck in silence.

Occasionally, you would catch him watching you. Not in the way that made your skin prickle, but like he was checking that you were still there. Still breathing, still smiling.

And you pretended not to notice.

Until it was impossible not to.

It started off small. Like the way he would just appear in your apartment without an invitation, the way he would drape a blanket over your shoulders without you saying a word, or how he'd pass you a snack from the counter before you even realized you were hungry.

It wasn't just convenience, it was attention.

The way he noticed when you'd be staring at the same episode of a show too long, or that your mug was half-empty and waiting to be refilled. Every little thing, done without a word, without expectation, as if he was mapping out all the ways you needed to be cared for before you even know it yourself.

He always knew.

Always.

And it made your heart skip.

You tried to push it away, tried to tell yourself you weren't seeing anything that wasn't there. You told yourself he was just being a good friend, your best friend. He was just existing. But it wasn't just the existence. It was the awareness. The attention.

He notices me in a way nobody else ever has.

And the more you noticed, the more you realized how safe it made you feel. Your heart no longer thudded heavy in your chest the way it had with Chan. With Jeongin, it was calm, warm, and steady. It wasn't frantic, not hollow, not desperate.

Eventually, it grew to a point where, somewhere between a set of folded laundry and a cup of instant ramen, the line began to blur. You were too aware of him. Of every careful glance, every tiny act of care, every quiet devotion that made your chest ache in a way you couldn't escape.

You have been trying to heal, trying to mend the hollow spaces inside you that Chan left, spent weeks holed up in your apartment, wrapped in a blanket and staring at your favourite TV show like it could replace the ache. Weeks of trying, and nothing worked, but here Jeongin was, filling them so easily it was like it was his life's purpose.

Over the weeks, it didn't even occur to you that Chan had stopped showing up. He was in your bed one day, and the next, he wasn't. And you barely paid it any attention.

You hated the relief you felt. Because if you love someone that much, you shouldn't feel that relief so easily, right? But with Jeongin by your side, existing in your space, you began to forget what loving Chan ever felt like.

Until the text came.

Felix: Hey, Sunshine! I know you haven't been feeling too well these last couple of months. Innie won’t tell us what’s going on but it doesn’t matter anymore. We just miss you. Hyune and I planned a movie night at my and Seungmin's place and we would really, really like it if you'd come. We miss you all so much, and we want to see you. Please let me know so I can bake accordingly :) <3

The text wasn't from Chan, but the implications of it still hit you like a brick all the same. It was like the last handful of weeks of calm, and dare you say happiness, you've felt were washed away in a thunderstorm disguised as a text message.

"I've been meaning to tell you about that," Jeongin said from where he sat across from you at the dining table, fork mid-way to his mouth. “Just didn’t want to scare you away with the idea.”

You stared at the text message for longer than you’d like, feeling the dull but familiar tightness wrap around your heart again.

“Don’t you guys have movie nights every Friday night?” you asked, your voice coming out surprisingly calm. “Why are they suddenly inviting me now?”

Jeongin scoffed at you and picked up another piece of meat off his plate. “Because we miss you.” he stated. “They miss you. They ask about you every day, wondering when you’re going to come around again. I told them you were sick and now you’re catching up on work, but I can’t keep lying to them, y/n. I’ve actually had to stop Han from jumping in a car and coming here on several occasions. Hyunjin too. They’re just worried about you.”

A pain of guilt and shame twisted low in your gut. You knew how important you were to them and you still pushed them away and avoided them all the same. All because of Christopher fucking Bang. God, if you would’ve known this was going to be the result of you trying to be open about your feelings to him, you wouldn’t have even tried to say anything to begin with.

You swallowed roughly and stabbed another piece of meat with your chopsticks, twirling the noodles of your ramen around absentmindedly.

Before you could even respond with a lame excuse, Jeongin spoke up again as if he thought you weren’t going to say anything in response at all.

“You know I love you, and I will sit in this apartment with you every day for the next year just to help you feel better. But, I think some social interaction from people other than me or your Coupang Eats driver is important.”

You let out a long sigh, the feeling of guilt beginning to twist uncomfortably. You knew he was right, but the thought of seeing them again, seeing him again, nearly made your heart stop beating then and there. You didn’t think you could do it and come out alive.

“You’re the only social interaction I need, Innie.” You said with as much nonchalance as you could muster before taking another big bite of your dinner to avoid saying anything else.

“While I can’t deny how incredible I am, I do think you need more than what I can offer. You know how healing Felix’s hugs are. And how ridiculous Hyunjin is when he’s being dramatic. Or how funny Han can get in general, though I’ll never admit it to his face.”

This made an unexpected laugh bubble up your throat, past the lump that seemed to be lodged there and out between your lips. The corner of Jeongins lips tilted upwards in a hopeful grin. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back at him, no matter how much you tried not to. But then his next words hit you and the smile nearly dropped.

“Channie has been asking about you too,”

And just like that, it felt like he poured a bucket of frigid ice water down your spine. You let out a cough, trying to mask the shock, and unfortunately, the tiny sliver of hope that still there despite sitting dormant for months.

“Oh? He has? Why?” you asked cooly, taking a sip of water to cool the burn that felt like it was taking over your face. Jeongin just gave you a confused look.

“Because he’s concerned. They all are. And I can tell them a thousand times that you’re okay, but you know they’re not going to believe me unless they see you for themselves.”

He was right about that too. The boys may have been a wild bunch, but they loved hard. And they worried harder.

The pain of regret twisted deeper. The two of you fell silent, you moving your food around your bowl restlessly, no longer feeling hungry enough to eat, while Jeongin just sat patiently and waited for your response. That was the great thing about him. He didn’t push, he didn’t nag, he didn’t try to guilt you into doing things. He just stated the facts, gave his opinion, good or bad, and waited.

His words felt heavy in your chest, as they should’ve, pressing against your ribs until it felt like it hurt to breathe. You imagined how they would’ve been these last few months without you. How many inside jokes you’ve missed, how many laughs were shared that you weren’t apart of, how many Friday nights Felix’s typed and erased the invite.

You hated that you made them worry. You hated that you disappeared without an explanation. Not that you could give them a reasonable one.

I should go, you thought to yourself, but it was quickly replaced with, I can’t see him.

The idea alone made your stomach knot, not with guilt now, but with fear and anger and heartache. You were just beginning to stand up right again, finally stringing days together without breaking down and one wrong look, one familiar smile or hearty laugh, could undo months of rebuilding yourself completely.

And they didn’t know. That was the worst part. The others didn’t know how deep it went, how much it still ached. They don’t know that seeing Chan again would feel like pressing down on a bruise that never managed to heal right.

You swallowed hard, throat tightening.

If I go, I’ll ruin myself.

If I don’t, then I already have.

The metal of your chopsticks clinked against the plate, too loud in the small kitchen, and Jeongin glanced up from his food. When his eyes meet yours, he gave you a small, reassuring smile and went back to eating like he had all the time in the world. And that somehow made it harder.

Because he’s been here. Jeongin had been here, staying over, learning the differences between your silence and your exhaustion, helping with chores, cleaning your apartment, letting you lay your head in his lap and running his fingers through your hair as if it could calm the storm in your mind. Because he’s never once made you feel like healing had a deadline.

You felt the guilt rise up again. He deserved a night off from your moping. You owed him that much. It was the least you could do given how long and how well he’s taken care of you the last few months. He’d show up to the apartment after a 14 hour day, exhausted and barely keeping his eyes open, and plop on your couch like it was the most natural thing in the world, ready to take care of you. He deserved a break.

I don’t think I’ll survive it.

But maybe I don’t have to stay.

You finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding and set your chopsticks down, moving to grab your phone. Jeongin looked up through his eyebrows briefly before going back to his food.

Maybe I can just show up and that’ll be enough for them.

Your fingers finally began to move. You didn’t type right away, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as the screen glowed against your face. You typed, and then deleted it, and then typed again. Your heart hammered in your chest as you hit send before you could overthink it.

You: I might come. I can’t promise I’ll stay long though.

The reply from Felix came back almost instantly, but you didn't open it right away. Your shoulders loosened a fraction, and Jeongin looked up without even checking his phone when it dinged with responses.

He didn’t say anything, he just gave you a small smile.

“I said maybe,” you murmured, like you needed to justify it

You watched as his smile grew wider, his eyes shining with pride, dimples on full display.

And just then, something shifted.

You weren’t sure what it was, but for a brief moment, sitting there under his soft gaze, you felt your heart tilt unexpectedly. Something warm and fuzzy formed in your stomach, a small flutter of nerves. And you realized then that the comfort he always wore like second skin for no one else but you was starting to look and feel like something a little more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t one for purposely trying to make someone jealous. Not out of spite, not out of anger, not out of sadness or retribution. You were too kind to do so. But when you walked into the SeungLix household that Friday night with your pinky locked with Jeongins, your other hand swinging a large bag of snacks, you couldn’t resist. Not after seeing the look of annoyance and, dare you say, hurt clear on Chans face.

He was sitting on the couch with Seungmin with a beer in his hand, talking and laughing with him, but when you stepped through the front door, everything stopped. It was like for a moment, time slowed. His eyes found yours, then they trailed down to where your and Jeongin’s pinkies were still entwined, and then back to yours. A hard glare set his face in stone, his jaw ticked in annoyance, his hand physically tightened around the can of beer hard enough for it to crinkle.

You swallowed roughly, forcing yourself to break eye contact with him, allowing time to unfreeze. You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head when you turned to greet Seungmin, who had rushed to you with a smile.

“Y/n!” He yelled happily, his arms coming up to wrap you in a hug. “You made it!”

At that, Felix, Han and Hyunjin spilled from the kitchen in a heap of curiosity. A scream of excitement left one of their mouths, though you couldn’t tell who, and before you could take another breath, you were swept up into the most chaotic version of a group hug you’ve ever been apart of.

You were still laughing when the group hug broke apart, feeling a little breathless and overwhelmed. Your bag of snacks was then stolen out of your hands, and the room filled with laughter and excitement while everyone shuffled towards the kitchen, Chan and Seungmin included. But Felix and you remained in place. He wrapped his arms around you again, the softest hug you’d ever come to know, and a sigh of relief left your mouth.

Jeongin was right. His hugs were healing.

“We missed you,” he said softly, thumbs rubbing tiny circles across your back in reassurance. “I’m really, really, glad you came.”

“Me too.” You said, though you didn’t realize how true the words were until you said them out loud.

Yeah, Chan had given you the stink eye when you first walked in, but being surrounded by your friends again after spending so much time in the dark was refreshing. And for a brief moment, you thought, ‘maybe things will be okay’. It was a fleeting thought, but it still showed up nonetheless.

The two of you stayed like that for another moment before a loud retching sound came from the kitchen, a symphony of laughter coming afterwards. You and Felix made eye contact, a knowing glint shining between the two of you at whatever antics the boys were getting into in the next room. You both rolled your eyes and pulled apart.

“Guess we should go see what that’s about,” you murmured, a hint of a smile ghosting on your lips. Felix just laughed and grabbed your hand and walked with you to the kitchen.

“It’s the sound of Han taking another shot of whiskey. Poor dude has had three so far, and his reactions just keep getting worse.” He laughed. That stopped you in your tracks, causing Felix to turn and look at you in concern.

“Wait, we’re drinking?” you asked skeptically, eyeing the kitchen archway where the noise was coming from. “I thought we were just watching movies.”

Felix let out a sly grin.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a couple of drinks before a movie. Besides, we’re on our break right now, so we’re probably going to be up late afterwards playing games and just vibing.”

He must’ve noticed the look of apprehension on your face, because he quickly continued with, “Don’t feel pressured to drink or anything. Or stay after the movie. I figured I’d just throw the invite out there. It’d be nice to hang out.”

Your apprehension melted away with his reassurance, and you gave him a small nod and smile before following him into the kitchen. Everyone was crowded near the kitchen island, laughing at Hyunjin’s face as it twisted up into a look of pure disgust after shooting back a shot of god knows what.

As soon as your entered, everyone turned to look at you.

“You joining us for a shot?” Lee Know asked, already navigating himself around the kitchen to grab a glass for you. The boys made a space for you to join them at the counter, but you waved off the invitation and stayed planted in the doorway.

“I think I’m okay.” Lee Know and Changbin frowned at your decline.

“But,” Changbins bottom lip pouted out adorably. “You always have a shot with us. It’s house rules.”

Jeongin elbowed him roughly in the ribcage, sending him a warning glare on your behalf before turning back to you.

“You don’t have to drink. Don’t listen to him.”

Changbin smacked Jeongin in the back of the head in retaliation before they turned back to the counter, where Lee Know was setting up the shot glasses again while Chan filled all of them to the rim. You retreated to one of the barstools across from them and watched in amusement as they all counted down from three and emptied their glasses.

Han and Hyunjin’s faces once again turned up into a look of disgusted horror before the coughing fits started. Seungmin and Lee Know were completed unphased, looking like they were already ready for another, and Jeongin, Felix, Chan, and Changbin all let out full-body shudders at the same time as the liquid poured down their throats.

It was comical in a way that made a full-hearted laugh escape your throat before you could stop it, and everyone joined in. For a moment, everything felt normal. Everything felt like it used to, when you would all gather at one dorm for a movie and game night, drinking and snacking and just having a good time. The boys didn’t get it often, so when they did, they always went hard. And a familiar feeling sparked in your chest, one you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joy.

Even with Chan here. He was seemingly relaxed regardless of the lingering tension between you two, and you were glad to see it. Fighting or not, feelings or not, friends or not, he still deserved a break, and you were a little happy to see him have one. But when Jeongin came to your side and bent his head to whisper in your ear, you noticed the ticking in Chans jaw instantly return. He wasn’t as relaxed as he was pretending to be.

“You doing okay?” Jeongin asked, his hand resting on the small of your back. The smell of whiskey danced across his breath, mixing with the sandalwood and pine of his cologne, and you didn’t want to admit how intoxicating it was. It made your head feel light, even though you hadn’t had anything to drink, and it had you blushing like a school girl for no reason.

“Yeah, I think I’m okay.” You nodded. You could feel Chans glare like it was a physical thing on the side of your face when you turned up to smile at Jeongin for his concern.

So his problem now wasn’t with you, it was with Jeongin.

Specifically, when Jeongin was with you.

The thought sent a shot of annoyance through your body. Jeongin had no clue what was going on between you and Chan. He had nothing to do with his, but Chan still had the audacity to be mad at someone who was like a brother instead of the person he was actually fighting with. His insistence on glaring at Jeongin anytime the guy was within one foot of you was beginning to piss you off.

“You know what,” you said, turning to look at Lee Know. “I think I’ll take that shot now.” You smiled. Your stomach twisted at the thought, knowing that nothing good ever came from drinking, but you were too irritated to care. If Chan wanted to be angry, he could be angry at you, not Jeongin. And you were going to make sure his attention was redirected.

“Lets goooooooooo!” Changbin hollered as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured everyone another shot. He slid yours over to you the same time Jeongin slid his and you were left with two shots sitting in front of you instead of one.

You looked up at Jeongin with a raised eyebrow, but he just shrugged his shoulders and smiled down at you. “You take it. I have to drive you home, so one is enough for me.”

Before you could shake your head and insist he took one more, Felix piped up from the end of the table. “Have another shot, Innie. You can just crash here. We’ve got plenty of space for everyone.”

Jeogin glared playfully at Felix for a moment, his fox-like eyes turned upward in the corners with his smile. It didn’t take him long to cave against Felix’s pout.

“Fine. But hangover food is on you.”

“Deal.”

And with that, everyone counted down from three and threw their heads back, gulping the liquid down. It burned your throat, a smile coming to your face from the sensation.

“Alright, alright. I think that’s enough for now.” Chan said as he took the bottle away from Changbin, who was ready to take another one. “If Han has anymore his face is going to end up in the toilet for the rest of the night. Everyone grab a bottle of water and lets go watch a movie.” Chan directed, handing out bottles of water from the fridge and herding the boys out of the kitchen like a farmer herding his sheep, dad mode activated.

Everyone left the kitchen in a heap of noise, fighting over spots to sit, snacks to eat, and what movie to watch, but you hung back with Jeongin and Chan, who was waiting in the doorway watching you two. He tried to look nonchalant, taking a drink of his water like he was waiting for you guys and not glaring, but you could see the tension in his shoulders with no problem.

“You say the word and we leave, okay?” Jeongin was there in his usual gentle reassurance, his grin soft, his hand warm on your back.

“Thanks Innie.” You reached up and planted a kiss on his cheek, though you weren’t entirely sure why. You didn’t know if the urge to do so was because he had been actively taking care of you all these months without complaint, or because Chan was standing right there staring at you guys with irritation in his eyes.

A part of you was scared to admit it was both.

“I just need another round or two of liquid courage and then I’ll be good to go.” You smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The living room looked like a girls slumber party had suddenly exploded all over it. You could’ve sworn it was empty when you and Jeongin arrived, but now it was a complete mess.

Han and Hyunjin staked claim on the floor, dragging pillows and blankets into a tangled nest around themselves like it was instinct. Chan and Changbin were in the process of moving one of the couches to face the TV better, arguing about whether it was too crooked or not. Lee Know and Seungmin disappeared into the two plush armchairs, already cocooning themselves like they were planning to hibernate there for the winter, and Felix was already waiting for you guys on the other couch.

He had taken over the middle, but after you and Jeongin approached, he decided the armrest was comfier and moved to let you squish between them. You fell into Jeongins side, his arm already stretching along the back of the couch, his fingers dancing softly on your shoulder like they always did.

For someone who wasn’t interested in physical affection with his members, or anyone else for that matter, he sure had a hard time leaving you alone. You weren’t complaining though. You liked being his only exception.

Before you knew it, the movie had started, though you weren’t sure what was chosen. Some action movie with some guy you’ve never heard of before. It didn’t matter though. Everyone was buzzing with the effects of the alcohol, and snacks started circulating like offerings. Two bowls of popcorn, three bowls of chips, brownies, candy, chocolate, gummies. It was like the boys thought of everything this time around; usually movie nights only included popcorn and candy, but you guessed they prepared more in the event that you would show up.

You tucked your legs to your chest and twisted into Jeongins side, letting your knees rest on his thigh as you accepted a bowl of popcorn from him. His arm moved down from the back of the couch to wrap around your waist, the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric of your shirt like there was nothing there. Something in your stomach flipped.

You two had always been like this, always sat like this. So much so that none of the guys believed you were just friends when you first met them. It never crossed your mind as anything more than two friends curled up next to each other on the couch, but the way something fluttered in your stomach just now made something tick in the back of your mind.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but it was starting to make your heartbeat quicken, your stomach fluttering like a horde of butterflies were taking over. Enough to make you blush, and you were thankful the lights were out, or someone definitely would’ve noticed.

Chan noticed though. From just a few seats over, his head faced the TV, but his eyes kept finding their way to you, and the way you were snuggled into your best friends side. You knew he was watching, could practically feel his gaze washing across your skin like a cold breeze, but you didn’t dare look back.

You just untucked your legs and hooked them over Jeongins thigh, getting impossibly closer to him, trying to ignore the heat of his body against yours as he instinctively pulled you in tighter. His cheek landed on the top of your head, his eyes glued to the screen, and when he moved slightly to place a kiss into your hair, you couldn’t deny the sick feeling of pride that slithered over you when you finally caught Chans eye.

He was glaring not-so-subtly, but nobody noticed, too focused on the explosions happening on the flat screen TV. His jaw was set in a permanent clench, eyes sharp, fingers crinkling around the bag of sour candy he held.

You looked away quickly, trying to fight the smirk off your face. But it was no use. The look of jealousy in Chans expression was clear as day, and as long as he kept his eyes, his annoyance, trained on you, then Jeongin would be fine.

A small, barely audible snort left your mouth, just loud enough for Jeongin to hear. He twisted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his face.

“What got you laughing down here, hmm?”

You let out another huff of laughter and returned your eyes to the screen.

“Nothing.” You whispered back. You could still feel the ice of Chans glare on your skin, but there was a burning warmth that followed close behind it when you registered that Jeongin was still looking down at you and not the movie.

His breath was hot against your ear, showing his proximity, and it caused you to turn your face back up to his. Your faces were close, too close, and you watched the way his eyes flickered down, latching onto your mouth for merely a millisecond before finding your eyes again. Your body froze and you let out a shaky exhale.

“What?” you asked around a nervous smile. “I’m not allowed to laugh?” you teased, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart. Jeongin raised his eyebrow slightly, eyes glancing towards the screen briefly before bringing them back to you.

“The main female lead just died. Either you’re lost in your own world down there, or you’re just a sadist.” He joked. This made another snort leave your mouth, louder this time, and several heads whipped around to look at you. You were sure the heat on your cheeks could be seen clearly now, even in the dark.

“Jesus,” Han groaned from his spot on the ground. “Get a room, you two.” He joked, grabbing some popcorn and throwing it at you guys. Felix let out a laugh from beside you, reaching over to flick Jeongins hand that was still wrapped around your waist.

“Do you guys want me to move, or should I start charging rent for this spot?”

Hyunjin threw one of his gummies at him before letting out his own laugh.

“Relax. That’s just how they are.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin piped in from the armchair across the room. “If they weren’t glued together I’d be more concerned.”

Your face flushed harder when Jeongin’s fingers pressed into your side.

“We are not glued together,” you protested, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Lee Know finally pulled his gaze off the movie and looked over at you and Jeongin just long enough to say, “You guys looked like you were literally about to kiss,” before he turned back to the screen.

If your face was flushed before, it definitely felt like it was on fire now. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. Jeongins laugh from beside you was barely audible as he squeezed you tighter against him, calling out Lee Know for whatever shit was spewing from his mouth now. You couldn’t focus on the words, you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to even care.

Did we really look that way?

Everyone knows that we’re just friends, don’t they?

But if we’re just friends, why did you feel this way?

Why did it feel so…right?

There was only one explanation as to what the hell you were feeling inside, and it was coiled so tight in your body you felt like you were going to explode at the seams, but you refused to try to acknowledge it. You refused to bring attention to it, refused to even let it take up space in your brain, because when you let yourself feel that way, you’re bound to get hurt.

Your body hung onto that thought as you glanced over at Chan. The rest of the boys were laughing and joking, the movie temporarily forgotten despite Changbin yelling at all of them to shut up, but nobody paid any mind to the way you and Chan were staring at each other.

Because if you let yourself feel that way, you’re bound to get hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The movie ended not long after a snack fight started, but no one was paying attention to it anymore anyways. They were all too busy planning what to do now that it was done. You watched in silence as the ending credits played across the screen while everyone talked over each other about what do to next.

Seungmin, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin wanted to play co-op games on the Nintendo switch that Felix had set up on the tv stand. Lee Know, Hyunjin and Chan wanted to watch the sequel to the movie but make it a drinking game where every time someone said the words “Jugeullae?” everyone had to drink, and Han just wanted to go to bed, which was valid.

You?

You didn’t really care what you guys did. A part of you wanted to go home, your social battery feeling drained already from the few hours you’d been here for. But another part of you couldn’t deny the feeling of joy that was still sitting in your chest at just being around people again, socializing and laughing and existing in another space other than your own dreary apartment.

And it was that tiny little sliver of light that kept you planted on the couch, still wrapped under Jeongins’ arm while he argued with the others, laughter spilling from your chest in a way you hadn’t felt in an eternity.

Eventually, everyone decided on drinking and taking turns playing Mario Party, but after consuming one too many beers, the console was turned off before Changbin pummelled Seungmin to death for stealing one of his stars.

So that’s how you all ended up here, splayed out across the room, all sporting drinks, all feeling the tipsy effects of them. Most of the guys ended up on the floor, backs against pieces of furniture as they all formed a circle in the middle of the living room.

Changbin was sprawled across the other couch with Seungmin sitting on the floor just next to him. You had found your way over to the armchair Seungmin had left behind, and Jeongin sat on the floor between your legs, his chin rested on your knee. Hyunjin was laying across the floor next to Jeongin, Felix’s head on his stomach, while Lee Know, Chan, and Han sat together on the floor in front of the TV.

“I don’t know. The cheesecake was good, but I don’t think I could ever go out with them again,” Han was telling everyone about the result of this latest attempt at a date. “They were super nice, and extremely cute, but I don’t know, being an idol makes this shit too hard.”

Everyone hummed in mutual agreement before Han directed the same question Felix asked him to Jeongin.

“What about you Innie? You had a date with the girl from Daegu, didn’t you? How did it go?”

A loud groan left Jeongins mouth before Han could even finish his question.

“God, don’t remind me.” He dragged a hand down his face in embarrassment. Something pinched in your gut at the thought of Jeongin going on a date with someone, even if it did sound like he didn’t have a good time.

“What happened this time?” Lee Know asked before taking a drink, a smirk on his lips. This wasn’t the first time Jeongin went on a failed date and the boys loved to tease him about it.

“Her boyfriend happened,” he explained around a wince. “He showed up to the restaurant looking for a fight, so I just left. Wished them luck and walked out. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life, especially with our line of work.”

The boys let out a chorus of laughter, reaching out to give him fake pats of sympathy on the shoulder, to which he rolled his eyes at and leaned backwards into your space.

“That’s the sixth girl you’ve gone out with this year. Your luck is starting to match Hans,” Seungmin commented, moving out of the way just fast enough to avoid the pillow Han threw at his face.

Jeongin just shrugged. “Yeah, well, sometimes the heart’s just not in it.” His hand found it’s way the back of your foot, and he rubbed the spot just beneath the ankle bone absentmindedly, sending tingles up your leg. “I guess I’m just waiting for the right person to come around.”

Another unfamiliar pinch in your gut.

You were about to open your mouth to make a joke or a snarky remark, anything to make the feeling go away, but Jeongin beat you to it.

“What about you, Channie? How are things with that girl you told us about?”

The question hit you like cold water.

He talked about you? To them?

Not you you, but you all the same.

The words landed harder than they should have. Your fingers tightened around the glass you were holding as your mind stumbled over them. It shouldn’t have matter anyways, but it did. Because you no longer were just a secret, you were a story, and that made everything come flying back.

You took a deep breath, trying to remain composed, but when Chan replied, his eyes briefly founds yours and you felt yourself crack.

“Things were good. But I had to end it.” A few of the boys nodded like it made sense. “One day she decided she wanted something more. Caught feelings. You know how that goes.”

He shrugged like it was all beneath him. But it didn’t line up. Not with the way he’d been watching you all night. Not with the way his gaze kept snapping to you and Jeongin like he had the right to be upset every time he saw you together. Not with the way he kept showing up at your door at two in the morning, even after you told him not to, begging to be let in again and again before it all ended.

“I was clear about what it was. But some people hear what they want to hear.” Your chest felt tight and you couldn’t tell if it was anger or something worse. “So I ended it before it turned into something it was never supposed to be.”

His jaw clenched for half a second, betraying the calm he was trying to show. Then, a smirk spread across his face, mean and condescending.

You turned your gaze down to look at your drink, trying to make sense of the total contradiction of his words. He sat there, talking like a man untouched then looked at you like he was anything but. Like he was jealous and hurt and refused to admit either.

And somehow, that made it all the harder to ignore. So much so that it almost made you laugh. But fine, if he wanted to pretend, you could too.

Then the question was directed at you, Hyunjin nudging your foot with his as he did so. “What about you? You still seeing that guy you’re not telling us about?”

You didn’t hesitate to respond.

“No,” you scoffed, lifting your glass to hide a smirk of your own. “He’s a dick. Told him I was done, but that didn’t stop him from showing up at my doorstep every night begging to be let in.” you quipped. You purposefully didn’t mention how you continuously let him in each time. They didn’t need to know that.

Jeongin’s thumb found the spot on your ankle again as he leaned his head back into your lap to look at you upside down. A couple of the guys let out laughs, shaking their heads in surprise, but before they could say anything else, you kept going, unable to stop yourself now.

“He called me crazy. Told me I was imagining things that I wanted to be real.” The dull ache from his words came back in that moment, sitting under your ribs like a shard of glass. “That was after taking me grocery shopping with him of all things. Real romantic, huh?”

You watched the way something clicked in Changbin’s stare from across the room, like there was a puzzle he was trying to figure out, but you didn’t acknowledge it. You didn’t even feel a sliver of panic about him connecting the dots. You were too drunk and bitter to bring yourself to care.

“Grocery shopping?” Han echoed in disbelief, eyes wide in surprise. “That’s brutal.”

You shrugged as cooly as you could, eyeing Chan over the rim of your glass again as you took another long swig of your drink. “Guess I missed the memo that buying cereal together doesn’t mean anything except an extra set of hands that was convenient enough to join.”

You watched the blaze come to life in Chans eyes. His brows furrowed in full fledged irritation, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, showing he was pissed.

Good, you thought. He deserved this.

“So,” you leaned forward, arms coming down around Jeongins torso to pull him into an awkward backhug, your chin resting on his head. “I did myself a favor and stopped wasting my time.”

Jeongin leaned back into you, tilting his head back enough to rest on your shoulder, a proud smile on his face.

“Besides,” you added, nudging him lightly. “I clearly have better company now. This one comes over and folds my laundry for me. Huge upgrade.” You joked.

Seungmin made an exaggerated gagging noise, while Felix let out a laugh, giving the two of you a smile like there was some inner joke you weren’t apart of. Lee Know took a piece of candy and it threw it you before everyone let out a laugh at how ridiculous the situation was.

Because it was ridiculous.

But Chan? He didn’t laugh. He just stared down at his drink, much like you had done, like it personally offended him. His shoulders were tight, expression locked somewhere between annoyed and something he very clearly refused to name.

You pressed your triumphant smile into the top of Jeongin’s head.

Your plan worked, but maybe a little too well.

The room kept laughing and for a few minutes you feel like you’ve won, like you’ve proven your point, like you’ve drawn a clean line between then and now.

But then Chan spoke again, and his words turned into a vice that squeezed around your heart despite your resistance.

“Guess that’s what happens when you mistake attention for something deeper.”

He said it casually, but everyone immediately stopped talking and turned to look at him with looks of utter shock. You could swear in those three seconds you could hear crickets chirping somewhere in the distance.

“Jesus, Channie, harsh much?” Felix let out an awkward laugh, kicking him a little too roughly in the shin.

And that was all it took.

You vaguely heard Chan’s laughter seep through the feeling of water suddenly filling your ears. “Relax, she knows I’m kidding.”

You didn’t though. Because he wasn’t. His was aiming to pack a final blow and he did it quite successfully.

Suddenly, your chest started to feel wrong. Not tight anymore, but just off. Like your lungs couldn’t quite decide how much they wanted to expand. With each breath you took, it felt like the air stopped halfway down. The noise in the room sounded like it was getting louder, though it could’ve been the pulse in your ears that made it seem so, thudding too fast and way too hard. You weren’t sure.

You told yourself to relax as the conversation moved on, to turn your head away and laugh with the rest of them, but you couldn’t. It felt like your mind stopped cooperating.

As you looked at Chan, your thoughts started looping, images of you and him playing out like a bad video montage. The nights you molded against each other, laughing and teasing one another the way people who were more-than-friends do. The bags of takeout shared across hotel beds, knowing looks across crowded rooms, the feeling of love felt so strong that quickly turned into nights in your apartment, alone and heartbroken, crying into your pillow before Jeongin started showing up.

Then, the little things started stacking on top of each other until they began to feel heavier than you should’ve let them. The insecurity, the self-doubt, the nights you laid awake, staring at the black screen of your tv. The dull ache of “Why wasn’t I good enough?” “Why can’t he love me?” “Where the hell did I go wrong?” taking up way too much space in your heart.

You tore your eyes away from him to find whoever was talking. You couldn’t tell who it was, your vision clouded with the past, too blurry to make out anything around you. You couldn’t focus on what they were saying exactly, but you pretended to listen anyways.

You tried to breathe, to not jostle too much, to not alert any of the men who were still laughing and drinking and throwing food, but it didn’t help. You pressed your lips together to try and ground yourself in the warmth of Jeongin in your arms. You tightened your grip just slightly, and it helped for about three seconds before the tightness returned.

Jeongin’s hand came up to hold your forearm in a comforting gesture, his eyes still glue to someone else, but it didn’t help. Your jaw begun to hurt from how hard you were clenching it, throat feeling thick, like something was lodged in there just begging to get out.

Then, suddenly you were too aware of everything all at once. Every sound of someone crunching down on a chip, every movement in the room when another piece of candy was thrown, every vibration that rumbled through you when Jeongin laughed. It was too much.

Your eyes flicked back to Chan again, seemingly on their own, and your stomach dropped. Not sharp, not fast, not in a way that came as a sudden surprise. It was slow, like the beginning of a long, plummeting fall.

Your heart continued racing out of control, beating too hard, too insistently, reminding you of everything you were trying not to think about. Sweat soaked sheets, sweet nothings whispered in ears, tongues dancing across skin, a confession sitting on your lips. And then, the shattering of something so fragile, so precious, that it didn’t stand a chance against even the smallest change in the breeze.

You started to pinch at the skin of your thumb, right beside the nailbed, the one that hadn’t been touched and picked at in months, and you flinched slightly at the familiar pain.

Jeongin noticed. Of course he noticed. It was like his body was wired to detect even the smallest changes in your mood. And his hand moved from your forearm to your thumb, stopping you midway through.

“You okay?” he asked gently, pulling his head back to rest on your shoulder so could look up at you again.

The pressure behind your ribs continued to build, your thoughts growing messier. The urge to escape, even just for a moment to breathe, started to feel less like a want and more like a need.

You leaned forward before you realized what you were doing, already halfway standing.

“I just need some air,” you barely choke out. And then you were up, moving towards the front door, the noise buzzing loudly behind you as your chest tightened even more, desperate for space.

The hallway felt too narrow, too bright, too loud, and you slammed the door shut harder than you meant to. You could hear Jeongin call for you a second before the sound of it echoed down the hallway like a gunshot.

By the time you reached outside, your breathing was coming in short, shallow breaths. You fumbled for your phone, your hair tie, anything to ground you, anything to do with your hands, but they wouldn’t stop shaking.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps slapping against the sidewalk behind you as you walked barefoot to god knows where. Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

“Hey, Y/n wait!”

You didn’t want to turn around, because if you did you were pretty sure you’d either scream or cry, loud enough for the neighbourhood to call the cops to report a crime, and both options felt humiliating.

Chan’s footsteps slowed down as he got closer, like he realized how close you were to tipping over and falling apart. “Y/n, look at me for a second.” He spoke gently.

You shook your head, staring at the concrete instead, arms wrapped around your body as if you were trying to hold yourself together.

“I can’t. I’m fine. I just… I just need a minute.”

Your chest was still heaving, breathing shallow, small hiccups coming out around every inhale. You blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, but it was no use. Once they started, they never stopped.

“Okay,” he said, softer this time. “That’s fine. Just breathe with me, yeah?”

Despite your state, you almost laughed. You almost snapped. But he was already doing it. The slow, exaggerated inhales, steady exhales, like he was trying to remind you how your body was supposed to work.

“Leave me alone,” you snapped at him, moving to step away, but his hand wrapped itself around your wrist, and you tried to pry yourself free, but his grip was tight. It wasn’t painful, just secure, like he had no intention of letting go.

“Stop,” He was close enough now for you to feel the heat of his body, to hear the shakiness of his breath, to note the emotion in his voice. Not anger, just worry, concern, and maybe a small amount of guilt. “You’re not okay.”

You spun around on him then, not caring what you looked like. Not caring that your eyes were probably red and puffy, or that your hair was a mess from the way you nearly yanked it out of your head on the way outside, or that you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in the dead of night not wearing any shoes.

“Wow, great observation. You wanna’ announce it to the whole neighbourhood?”

He had the audacity to flinch at your words, and it was enough for you to pull your wrist free from his grip and step away from him. He squinted his eyes at you like he was the one in disbelief. It was almost comical.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t—"

“Don’t what?” You cut in, voice sharp despite your breathing. “Break down? Embarrass myself? Ruin your night the way you’ve been so hellbent on ruining mine?”

“That’s not what I meant to do!” he snapped in response, reaching out for you again. You flinched away from him, taking another step back, letting out a scoff at the hurt on his face. Like he had the right to be!

“Then what did you mean, Chan?” your hands were still shaking violently, but you were finally, finally able to take a deep enough breath, your lungs expanding with air like it was their first time doing so. “Because you don’t get to sit there, making comments like that, glaring at Innie like that, and then act concerned when I finally leave.”

“I wasn’t glaring at him.” He ground out, hand still outstretched for you but not moving any closer. You laughed in his face, sharp and humorless, taking in another gulp of air to calm your racing heart.

“You have been shooting daggers into the side of his head all night! If you want to be pissed off at somebody, be pissed off at me, not him. He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Chan threw his hands up in the air, his frustration quickly beginning to boil over. “Oh my god, this isn’t about him!” he practically shouted.

“Then who is it about?!” You shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re mad that I didn’t sit around waiting for you to decide I was worth more than a hookup. You’re mad that I stopped opening the door for you because I have someone in my life who can actually bear to look at me in the daylight!”

“That isn’t what happened!” his voice rose another octave along with his frustration, his chest heaving like yours was but for an entirely different reason.

‘Then explain it!” you yelled back. “Explain why you called me crazy for thinking any of what we had was real!”

His jaw clenched and he ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands hard enough you were surprised he didn’t rip any out. “Because you were getting attached!”

You felt a familiar bubble of mixed emotions pop in your chest, and you felt like you were going to be sick.

Anger.

Irritation.

Heartbreak.

That one hit the hardest. Because even after all this time, after all these months of finding comfort in Jeongin, after all the months of crying and asking yourself ‘why’ , after all those months of healing, those five words were enough to break you. Enough to undo all of your progress.

Your heart ached in the deepest way possible, tiny shards of glass puncturing you like shrapnel.

“And you weren’t?” you fired back, voice stooping low as you clenched your fists, trying to keep yourself from completely falling apart all over again. “You’re seriously going to stand there and act like you don’t feel a thing?”

“I don’t fe—”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” You growled, stepping closer to him. “You don’t get to say you don’t feel anything for me after you just spent the last four hours treating me like I was the one who hurt you. Don’t you dare tell me you don’t feel that way for me when you’re the one who kept pulling me back in, even when I told you I was done!”

“You’re the one who disappeared!” he shouted. His face was growing red, but you weren’t sure what it was from. Anger, probably, though with the way his eyes looked like they were glassing over, you couldn’t quite tell. “You shut me out! You stopped answering the door, stopped showing up to group hang outs, stopped talking to me! Then you showed up here with Jeongin, holding hands, acting as if nothing happened. What the hell was I supposed to do! “

The sound echoed through the night air before you realized what had happened. Chan’s head had snapped to the side, his cheek red from where you had slapped him. Your palm tingled, teeth grinding so hard they could break. The silence that rang out afterwards was deadly. The both of you were breathing heavy, the tension high. You took another deep breath, trying to control the emotions, the tears that were threatening to pool down your cheeks again.

“Maybe you should try being honest with yourself for once in your life.” Your voice cracked before hardening again. “Jeongin is my best friend. He only wants what’s best for me, and right now, as my best friend, he is it. You only wanted me for one thing and that was my body.”

Chan turned his head back to look at you, the shape of your hand molded against his skin in an ugly bright red. His jaw was still clenched hard, but his brows had relaxed, tilting down into a look of complete devastation.

“That’s not fair,” he breathed.

“It’s exactly fair,” you cut him off against, the words spilling from your mouth before you could even stop to process what you were saying. “You don’t get to act like you care now when you treated me like I was nothing but temporary.”

The silence hit again for half a second, thick and ugly, before a low, bitter tone escaped Chan’s mouth.

“You were the one catching feelings.”

Your stomach twisted. “And you’re the one still punishing me for it.”

You watched the way his eyes flashed, a spark of frustration once again passing through them in the span of a second before it was gone.

“I’m not trying to punish y—”

“Oh, no. Of course you’re not. You’re just making me feel fucking crazy for the fun of it, right?” Your voice cracked as a tear escaped against your will, like it had a mind of its own and was determined to make itself known to him. Then, “Why do you look at me like that? If you don’t care, if this was all nothing, then why can’t you stop glaring at me, at him, like we betrayed you?”

“Because you make it impossible not to!” the pitch in his tone reached an all time high, causing some lights to turn on in the buildings surrounding you two. “You walk in there with him like you’re fine. Like I don’t exist. And I’m just supposed to what, smile? We’re supposed to be friends Y/n. Above all else. And now you can’t even look at me like I am one.”

You ground your teeth together. “New flash Chan, we aren’t friends! We haven’t been for a long time now. I was nothing but a body to you. You gave up that right, so you don’t get to act jealous now.”

A long, deep sigh left his mouth. “You aren’t just a body, Y/n.” he said, tone low, voice suddenly soft, and it almost felt a confession. His shoulders sagged like he was facing defeat. Like he’d lost. The words felt like a punch to the stomach, but you swallowed around the lump in your throat.

“Then say it.”

He didn’t.

You two just stood there in the silence, staring at each other, unfinished sentences and unresolved issues hanging between you two like a physical entity.

Then, you both moved at the same time. Anger, hurt, history crashing together. His hand caught your arm, not to stop you, but like he needed something to hold onto. You shoved at his chest, desperate to keep him away for the sake of your heart, but then he kissed you and all attempts at fleeing were futile.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was all teeth and breath and frustration, like you were trying to prove something to each other instead of feel it.

And for one, stupid, reckless second, everything went quiet again. Your mouths moved in tandem, lips molding against each other, tongues battling for power. Your hands moved up to tangle in the long, blonde strands of hair, while his moved to wrap around your waist, holding you against him like he couldn’t survive without you.

A whimper left his mouth, setting your nerve-endings on fire. He was everywhere all at once. His tongue in your mouth, his scent in your nose, the sound of his groans in your ears. It was too much, too devastating, too familiar to like it had been before, and you felt your heart falling back into the pit it’s just spent months climbing out of.

You couldn’t help it. It was no use. You both knew this was a mistake, but neither of you pulled away.

|| Channie's Bonus || Part Two || Part Three ||

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