Archive of Our Own

Monday
I was hoping
That kind of person is somewhere and here you are

Jeonghan’s used to people calling him kind for the lack of anything better to describe him.

Take, for an example, when he was younger, switching middle schools every few months because his father’s job demanded it; before word got out that he was smart, he was always kind, handsome Yoon Jeonghan, more of a good-looking mascot than a person. Then he came to high school and it somehow got worse. He learned that people were willing to take even his smallest kindnesses and label them as signs of a generous and sweetly magnanimous soul and never look any further. 

Every girl and boy who’s ever confessed to him said the same thing: I like you because you’re handsome and kind.

Nowadays, when he hears someone get described as kind, he scoffs.

“I’m serious,” says Nayoung, offended, swatting at his face with her hands to make him stop. “He’s really kind, don’t you get it? Otherwise why would everyone on campus be willing to date him?”

“Hm,” says Jeonghan.

He’d been spacing out so hard his palm’s basically fused to his cheek—with difficulty, he unsticks it, and gives Nayoung a condescending little tap on the nose. “I can think of a few reasons.”

She flushes, hot and irritable. “It’s not just that he’s handsome, you snot. I’m saying he’s considerate, he’s caring, and he’s fun to be around. Why wouldn’t a guy like that be popular?”

Jeonghan makes a considering noise, mostly just to appease her even though she should know better. Every year everyone gets hopeful like this, like the newest litter of just-out-of-middle-schoolers will be any different from the last, and wind up disappointed.

This time it’s no different. And it’s not just Nayoung: this is maybe the fourth time Jeonghan’s hearing about Lee Seokmin, freshman, and his tiresome-sounding dating adventures.

It’s exhausting, and frankly a little ridiculous just to think about. The rumour is, this Seokmin kid is charming and likable enough to have the whole school after him, and dates anyone who asks him out for exactly a week.  And at the end of the week, he lets them down gently, saying Sorry, I wasn’t able to fall in love with you. Let’s break up.

Jeonghan can’t imagine it—exposing himself over and over, being vulnerable to hurt, for the simple sake of making a connection.

“Sounds like a pain,” Jeonghan murmurs. Then he’s up, tipping Nayoung’s chair, grabbing Seungcheol’s wallet from his desk as he goes. “Come on, drop me off at practice, Nayoung-ah. Our Jihoonie’s probably throwing a fit, you can distract him with your feminine wiles.”

Nayoung hisses like an angry cat and catches up to him right as he’s opening the door of their classroom. She’s on time to observe a first-year wordlessly shove a pink envelope at Jeonghan’s chest and, not meeting Jeonghan’s easy greeting or indulgent smile, take off at top speed down the hallway.

“Ah, youth,” she says, waving when the first-year looks over her shoulder. The little one blushes and whips her head forward. “I miss the good old days of thinking you were a catch. She’s got a big storm coming.”

Jeonghan pockets the envelope wordlessly.

If Lee Seokmin’s famous for being a great date, then Jeonghan’s equally famous for being a terrible one; none of his ex-girlfriends have exactly hesitated to tell the rest of the school about how cold and unapproachable he is, how he forgets dates and doesn’t pick up calls, how his image is nothing close to how he really is. Being half-assed about his feelings has become a habit now.

But the new year means first-years who haven’t heard the rumors yet. Freshmen who couldn’t see past his face.

“You’re disgustingly popular, as usual,” Nayoung says.

“What’s the point of confessing if you can’t even meet their eyes,” Jeonghan says, crumpling the envelope a little. His smile hurts his teeth. “Do they even know who they’re confessing to?”

“You don’t get to judge,” Nayoung says sharply. “They’re the ones drumming up the courage to do this much. Have you ever even written a love letter?”

She’s got a point, Jeonghan acknowledges. Everyone who confessed to him, or to the version of him that they’d made up in their heads, had a kind of bravery Jeonghan didn’t.

“How does Lee Seokmin turn people down?” Jeonghan says, meaning it as an apology. He pokes Nayoung’s side. “I don’t see you complaining about the way he does it, and he must get confessed to more than I do.”

Nayoung gives him a sidelong glance, and relents. “He doesn’t,” she says.

“Doesn’t what?”

“Turn people down,” Nayoung says. “If that person is the first confession of the week, he says yes. Otherwise he just tells them he’s already dating, and everyone knows that they can try again the week after.”

He’s either a wimp, or a horndog, Jeonghan thinks and keeps it to himself. Out loud he says, “And he never asks anyone out himself?”

Nayoung shakes her head and begins to list with her fingers. “He never asks anyone out, he never touches you unless you initiate it, he never flirts with anyone else while he’s dating you.”

“Eh, that’s a lot of rules,” Jeonghan said idly. “And he never breaks them? Not even for you, Nayoung-ah?”

Nayoung’s punch catches him square in the jaw, and Jeonghan grimaces. Still a sore spot then. “Don’t make fun of things you don’t understand, you demon. It’s not like you even have the delicacy to understand your own heart.”

“I’m an angel, though?”

Nayoung narrows her eyes at him as she turns the corner, nearly running into a couple of first-years who giggle into their hands when they see them together. She pays them no mind. “You keep telling yourself that. And I’m telling you right now, the fact that I dated Lee Seokmin is off the table when you feel like blackmailing me into doing something, you demon. We broke up, sure, but that week,” and tomboyish Nayoung gets a dreamy, winsome look in her eye that alarms Jeonghan, and she’s not even looking at him when she says, “That week was like a happy dream.”

Jeonghan’s startled silent. Her smile plays on his mind even after they part ways towards their respective clubs, even after she’s jammed a fist in his ribs and uncutely told him not to think about it too much. He unravels and twists his in his mind: so even Nayoung can look like that.

He’s distracted as he turns towards the almost-empty corridor of the choir room, as he, with a sigh, reaches down to open the clubroom door and finds that—

“It’s locked,” says the broad, tall figure leaning against the wall.

He’s got a bag on his shoulder like he came here straight after coming to school. Ten points for youthful spirit, Jeonghan thinks lazily. Ah, to be young again.

The boy turns and oh, all the distant glimpses he’d had of Lee Seokmin did him no justice. Jeonghan blinks and darts his eyes away, like he’d looked directly into the sun. Every little piece of him is bright; his eyes, expressive and attention-catching; his profile, strong and broad; his lips, forming prettily around a question:

“Were you trying to join?”

“I’m Yoon Jeonghan,” says Jeonghan, doing a good job of faking nonchalance. “I’ve been in this club for three years.”

The boy twitched. He blushed like a manhwa character, starting from the neck up, and Jeonghan tracked its progress with interest as it climbed up his sharp, high cheekbones.

Ears red, he bowed so low Jeonghan was briefly startled by the patch of tanned skin at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry, Jeonghan-sunbae!” he wails, still facing low. “My name’s Lee Seokmin! Let me treat you to something to make up for my mistake!”

Jeonghan usually prides himself in reading people well, and he has no idea how he messed up this one this badly. Lee Seokmin has the looks and the rep of a heartbreaker, so what's with this—with this unaffected cuteness?

Helplessly, Jeonghan gapes at the top of Seokmin’s head.  

“It’s okay,” is all he can say.

Lee Seokmin’s shoulders stiffen. It’s fascinating to catalogue the play of emotions on his expressive face: regret chases thoughtfulness chases renewed hope. “To be honest, sunbae, I wanted to get to know you better. Everyone in school talks about how kind and funny you are. There’s a vending machine over there,” he says, looking straight at Jeonghan, pointing over his shoulder. “Let me buy you a juice, sunbae.”

“Call me hyung,” Jeonghan says reluctantly.

Lee Seokmin waits. He’s like a puppy.

“…get me strawberry,” Jeonghan adds, giving up.

Seokmin brightens. In no time at all, Jeonghan finds himself looking down at the juice box in his hands, palm still warm from where Seokmin’s fingers brushed against it.

A juice for a mistake. Good boyfriends really were different, after all, or was there more to this than Jeonghan had thought? Upon closer examination, Lee Seokmin’s cheeks were pink with some kind of nervous tension, a profound self-consciousness that made Jeonghan a little flustered in turn.

Now that he thinks about it, all of this—the juice, the invitation, the blush, the intimacy—really reminds Jeonghan of a date.

“Hey. Does this mean I’m your date for the week?”

Seokmin drops his juice box.

His eyes blown wide, he says, “Do you want to be, sunbae?”

“Depends on whether you want it or not,” Jeonghan murmured, and oh, he’s being an asshole, but there’s something about Lee Seokmin that makes him want to see him squirm. “And I told you to call me hyung.”

Seokmin turns those honest brown eyes to him, and Jeonghan feels it again—that sensation of being trapped. But something else, too, something that had always gotten Jeonghan in trouble: an unfurling sense of excitement, and with it, slow, burning-hot delight.

It had been so long since someone interesting stumbled into his life.

“I would like it very much,” Lee Seokmin says, as red as a tomato, “if you would go out with me, Yoon Jeonghan-hyung.”

Maybe he wanted to find out what the fuss was about. Maybe it was the way the air was light and fragrant, and he was scared that this was it, this was all there would be to the rest of his life.

Maybe it was a whim.

But, on the summer of the year Jeonghan turned eighteen, in the hallway outside their clubroom, Jeonghan turned to his junior and said, “It’s only for seven days, right? Sounds interesting. I’m in.”

They’re interrupted by Jihoon and the rest of the choir club shortly after that; practice was cancelled for the day. Jeonghan has time to shoot Seokmin one last, neutral smile before he’s crowded by Jisoo wanting to ask where he’d been. We’ll talk later, the smile was meant to say, and though it made sense at the time Jeonghan’s starting to have his doubts.

What was there to talk about? Jeonghan had essentially bullied Seokmin into being his boyfriend for a week, an arrangement he was sure neither of them really wanted (no matter how prettily Seokmin had asked) He wasn’t sure Seokmin even liked boys. Jeonghan really should have paid better attention to those rumors.

The morning bell rings and Jeonghan decides to put it out of his mind. The lessons quickly distract him. Lee Seokmin doesn’t cross his mind again till lunchtime when he's buying juice and he half-heartedly looks around the cafeteria for Seokmin, maybe to clarify things, maybe to make him blush some more. Instead of Seokmin, however, he runs into Soonyoung, a dongsaeng from their ill-fated and short-lived musical production last year.

“Soonyoungie,” he says warmly as Soonyoung runs up to him, vaulting a few cafeteria tables, and tackles him in a hug. “No dance practice today?”

“We’re on a break,” Soonyoung says, allowing his cheeks to get pinched. He beams up at Jeonghan. “What are you doing out here, hyung?”

“Looking for a place to nap,” Jeonghan says. It’s easier than explaining that he’s looking for a certain first-year to bully, and the whole mess of it. “How are things? You look a little tired. Anything wrong?”

Soonyoung practically purrs as Jeonghan strokes his hair back. “Budget cuts, hyung,” he says mournfully. “The student council is trying to give all our money to the athletics department. And you know what Jihoonie’s like, he’s acting like he can write songs in a cardboard box. I tried asking Nayoung-noona but she said her loyalties lie with her team, bleh.”

Jeonghan snickers. “Do you want me to talk to Cheol?”

Soonyoung lights up. “Would you really?” He tucks himself into Jeonghan’s side. “Jeonghannie-hyung, you’re so kind.”

“I am an angel, after all,” Jeonghan says blithely. It prickles something in him so he quickly shifts focus, ruffling Soonyoung’s fluffy hair. “Ah, but I’m told there’s a freshman out there stealing my thunder.”

Soonyoung’s nose crumples.

“Lee Seokmin,” Jeonghan nudges, and Soonyoung’s face lights up in recognition. “You know him?”

“Seoku’s my other half, hyung, of course I know him!” Soonyoung says. “He’s always been super nice. I guess people just started noticing him after he took out his braces and lost all that weight last year.”

“So it comes down to looks,” Jeonghan murmurs.

Soonyoung shakes his head vehemently. “Nuh-uh, not really, hyung. I mean, sure he’s nice to look at, but people fall in love with him for who he is, you know? He’s just an all-round good guy.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“It’s like—he’s got this aura,” Soonyoung says. “He’s so nice, he’d let you get away with anything. He’s kind of a sensitive crybaby so you know he’d rather die than hurt you. I guess that’s what got all the girls going after him. Bad boys like me just aren’t popular anymore,” he says, with a flash of pearly teeth.

Jeonghan snorts. “Bad boy, where,” he murmurs. He spots Jisoo waving at him from a table close to the door, and Nayoung too, albeit with less enthusiasm. “Want to eat with us, Soonyoungie?”

Soonyoung purses his lips and shakes his head. “I promised Seoku I’d help him water the sunflowers out back today. Tell Nayoung-noona that duty called, ‘kay hyung?”

With that he speeds off.

It’s a good five seconds after he’s left that Jeonghan mutters, “Help Seokmin do what?”

“I WILL VANQUISH YOU!” is the first thing Jeonghan hears as soon as he opens the choir room after school. He balks a bit, but no, he’s got the right place: here’s Soonyoung, hamster-cheeked and cheerful as always, waving a hand of cards at Jeonghan before getting tackled to the ground by an equally cheerful Seokmin. They’ve both got their ties knotted around their head, and once Soonyoung recovers from the fall he raises his hands and shouts, like nothing happened,

“Hey, Jeonghannie-hyung!

Seokmin’s broad back tenses. He quickly clambers to his feet, a big smile on his face, as he comes to stand in front of Jeonghan. “Jeonghan-hyung! Are you tired after classes? Would you like something to drink? Maybe to sit?”

“Hm,” Jeonghan murmurs, running his fingers up Seokmin’s uniform blazer and brushing away dust. “Only one day in and you’re already cheating on me? I’m disappointed.”

Much to his delight, Seokmin blushes all the way up to his ears.

Not witnessing this, Soonyoung pipes up from the back, “Cheating? What cheating, hyung? I won this game fair and square!”

“Oh no Soonyoungie, you see—”

A hand slams over his mouth. Big palm, slender, beautiful fingers.

Jeonghan raises his eyebrows at Seokmin, who’s still blushing. Ah, that’s right. Did the nature of this arrangement mean that it had to be a secret? Jeonghan could see the logic in that, though he couldn’t imagine that it would make Seokmin’s one-week partners very happy.

“Jeonghan-hyung and I have plans,” Seokmin babbles. “Since choir practice was cancelled he promised to spend time with me.”

Soonyoung frowns. “Jeonghannie-hyung did? Yoon Jeonghan? Wanted to go out? Instead of going home and sleeping?”

He really was the best dongsaeng Jeonghan had.

Both of them waited expectantly, to see what terrible lie Seokmin would come up with. He ended up flushing, terribly; then he stammered something so awkward and false Jeonghan found himself saying, despite himself,

“We’re going out. Then we’re going to practice.”

Soonyoung’s eyes go saucer-wide. He blabbers, “Going out? Practice?” like he doesn’t know the meaning of either of those words.

“Just for the week. And I’m telling you now, Jihoon’s written a song for Bumzu-hyung’s wedding. Pretend to be surprised when you hear it,” Jeonghan tells him, linking his arm with Seokmin’s. Seokmin immediately shifts closer and loops his fingers in Jeonghan’s beltloops, not noticing the way it makes Jeonghan blush bright red. “I, um, I heard this kid was good at singing. He’s going to help me get it right.”

“Jeonghannie-hyung has a pretty voice,” Seokmin says. “I can’t wait to hear him sing.”

Jeonghan nearly says oh out loud, but stops himself. It turns out Seokmin is the real deal: tall dark and handsome with a face that shifted in an instant from cheerful to flirtatious and an open, shameless honesty that Jeonghan couldn't even begin to fathom.

“I can’t believe the two of you are going out,” Soonyoung says. Jeonghan believes him. He’s never seen Soonyoung this surprised. “You two barely know each other.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “It came to my attention that this kid here dates anyone for one week. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“Actually, it was me that asked hyung out,” Seokmin says.

Jeonghan smiles beatifically at Soonyoung as he gapes at them. “There you have it. Now, Seokmin-ah, shall we?”

Soonyoung says, “Bye guys!” He looks forlorn at losing his duel partner, Jeonghan thinks, and feels a little bad for going along as Seokmin exits the music room, walking so close they bump shoulders.

When he mentions this to Seokmin, he laughs. “He’s got a great big crush on you, hyung, it’s not me he’s going to miss.”

Jeonghan lets Seokmin ease his bag out of his hands, bemused. It’s not like Soonyoung’s been trying to hide it; rather, he seems to take delight in being showy and flamboyant with his affection. Last year he yelled it for the whole school assembly to hear and Jeonghan still hasn’t lived it down. “That’s for laughs, though.”

“It is? But he really does like you a lot, hyung. A lot of the first-years do, too,” Seokmin admits shyly. “I can’t believe you’re not dating anyone. It’s a miracle.”

Jeonghan snorts. “Let’s see you saying the same thing at the end of this week.”

Seokmin looks surprised.

“Now that we told Soonyoung-ah, I’ll be surprised if there’s a single person in school tomorrow who doesn’t know about us,” Jeonghan goes on, sliding a measuring look from the tail of his eye at Seokmin. “Will that be a problem for you? Don’t you keep the names of your one-week partners secret?”

“Not really,” Seokmin says. “It’s just that it turns out that way a lot of the time. I’d happily shout from the rooftops that I’m going out with you, hyung.”

His smile is blindingly bright.

Jeonghan brushes this away, flustered. “No need for that. Unlike you, I have a healthy sense of shame." Seokmin keeps beaming at him, which is annoying. Doesn't he see the problem with that? He's one of those happy-go-lucky types that did as they liked, and Jeonghan bristles at the realization. So they really were opposites, then.

"Anything wrong, hyung?" 

Jeonghan looks away and clears his throat. He'd be easier to hate if he wasn't an actual puppy, he thinks grumpily. "What’s the game plan for this date of ours, then?”

The game plan is that there’s no plan. Seokmin comes up with a few rote ideas—ice cream cafes, movies—that sound like too much work, considering that Jeonghan hadn’t mentally prepared himself for having a boyfriend he would have to do things with today. Besides, he doesn’t really like the easy way Seokmin suggests them; it means that these are dates he’s gone on before, with other poor one-week girlfriends or boyfriends.

And when it came down to it, Jeonghan simply preferred to make plans on his own terms. Perhaps Seokmin senses this, because he only smiles and nods when Jeonghan declares that they’re simply going to walk home together today.

“For the record, Jihoonie really did write a song for Bumzu-hyung. We can sing it on the way,” Jeonghan tells him, as Seokmin struggles with the broken vending machine close to the exit. They had maybe killed too much time with Soonyoung, because the hallways are already near empty, and the few third-years that they pass by all look too preoccupied to pay them any mind. “That way you won’t have been lying to Soonyoung.”

“Sounds good, hyung. Shall I get you strawberry?”

“That vending machine doesn’t work, dumbo.”

“Sure it does,” Seokmin says easily. “You just have to be nice to it. Right?” he whispers conspiratorially to the machine, pretending not to notice Jeonghan snort. His eyes are the prettiest when he’s trying to hide a smile. “Baby, give us two boxes of strawberry milk. Aishiteru.”

Jeonghan laughs. “Japanese?”

“It’s the language of love,” he says, handing one of his hard-won boxes over with a waggle of eyebrows. “For you, hyung.”

“Thank you,” Jeonghan says drily.

Seokmin pouts at him till Jeonghan relents. “Thank you,” he repeats, in Japanese.

Seokmin’s smile turns blinding.

“Now, you mentioned singing?” He curls an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders, thoughtless and casual. Jeonghan hunches inward for a brief moment before he relaxes. By the time they reach the station, he's leaning into Seokmin as they sing, switching from Jihoon's song to Bumzu to a few new ballads they both like. 

Seokmin harmonizes as Jeonghan sings, awkwardly at first, then with increasing confidence, their voices slotting together like puzzle pieces as they go down the winding road towards the station. Once the singing slides to a pause –Jihoon was right, the kid was monstrously talented—they compare destinations. By some stroke of almighty luck, they happen to live in the same neighborhood.

Jeonghan watches him thoughtfully as Seokmin gets them tickets. He wasn’t a romantic by any means –he left that to the Seokmins and the Jihoons of the world—but he couldn’t help envisioning having lived here his whole life, growing up with someone like Lee Seokmin a couple of houses away.

“It’s fate,” Seokmin says, cheesy and somehow lovely as he wiggles his eyebrows together. He hands Jeonghan his ticket. “We live so close, hyung! There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

“Is this a line you use on all your dates,” Jeonghan says, squinting suspiciously. “Then you run across town to your actual house.”

Seokmin shakes his head where Jisoo would probably have made fun of him for reading too much shoujo manga. He’s so earnest and good and it’s disgustingly cute. “You can come inside and meet my family if you’d like.”

“A bit soon for that, don’t you think? We’ve only been dating for one day.”

Seokmin’s even cuter when he’s pouting. Jeonghan’s life is so unfair.

Their train arrives and they board it, ending up sitting too far apart to continue their conversation. Jeonghan takes the opportunity to check his messages, working through the bored-at-home SOS’s his sister had sent, bedridden with the ‘flu. He rolls his eyes as he reads them.

After they get out Seokmin gravitates to his side and holds his hand. Jeonghan, also a tactile person, threads their fingers together experimentally and receives a strangely shy smile in return, right before Seokmin starts blurting out things at random. 

“I was thinking, maybe you shouldn’t visit after all. My sister will like you way too much anyway. And Coco, my dog. You seem like the kind of person babies and small animals like, hyung. Do you like them too?”

Jeonghan hides a smile. Cute, Lee Seokmin was cute.  

“I like all cute things,” he says.

“Since you speak really gently, I think hyung would make a great kindergarten teacher,” Seokmin muses out loud. “Or a vet. Soonyoungie told me you’ve got great grades, so vet school should be a cinch.”

“You asked him about me?” Jeonghan finds that he doesn’t dislike the idea. “Does he know about everyone you date?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I like talking about the person I like, hyung.”

Jeonghan looks at him, surprised. “Really?”

“I just don’t particularly want to keep the person I’m dating a secret from my friends,” Seokmin swallows, and forcibly changes the subject. “But about my kindergarten idea. It’s a good one, isn’t it?”

Jeonghan lets that one slide because he doesn’t really want to get dragged down into a discussion about exes, either.  The sun is out and the air is almost choked with cherry blossoms, and everything's romantic enough that Jeonghan's slightly worried that he was getting rusty, if the conversation's already turned to such dire grounds even in such perfect weather.

“I used to think about it, before,” Jeonghan says. “But then my sister was born and I realized I didn’t have the energy for it. You’d do well.”

Seokmin ignores the jab, looking at him with almost trembling excitement. “Hyung, you have a sister too?”

“Yeah,” said Jeonghan. Seokmin had an almost magical way of making him smile. “She’s ten.”

“Oh, almost a grownup, then,” Seokmin says, laughing. His face did something funny and complicated when they turned the next street corner. “We’re almost at my place.” 

Jeonghan experiences the novel sensation of realizing the date was almost over, and regretting it; it had been so long since someone like Seokmin had been interested in him. 

He doesn’t want it to end. The warning signs were up—but he ignores them.

“There’s a really nice bakery down the street from my house, do you want to come with me to pick something up for my sister?”

Later, after Jeonghan has gone home and soaked and dozed and been saved from drowning in the tub by his unamused little sister, his phone lights up with an obnoxious ping! sound of a notification.

Jeonghan seriously contemplates pretending he didn’t hear it.

A second later, it happens again.

With a groan, he rolls over and flings his hand out blindly till he finds his phone. He already took off his contacts, so he brings it close to his face and squints.

Unknown number (11:37): Hey Jeonghannie-hyung! Today was really fun :D

Me (11:39): who

Unknown number (11:39): It’s Seokmin! You gave me your number earlier :D

Jeonghan stares. Emojis, he thinks. Hm.

Me (11:42): its late

Intended as a subtle hint, Jeonghan’s not really surprised when the next messages follow in quick succession.

Unknown number (11:43): I know, hyung!
Unknown number (11:43): I just finished playing with Coco :D
Unknown number (11:43): And my mom really liked the hazelnut pastries!

Me (11:44): thats good

Unknown number (11:44): And I was thinking, we should have a date tomorrow as well, since practice is cancelled!

Jeonghan sighs. There it is.

Perhaps sensing his reluctance, Seokmin quickly sends:

Unknown number (11:45): I promise it won’t be strenuous!

Me (11:45): it better not be

Unknown number (11:45): Is that a yes, hyung?

Me (11:46): yes
Me (11:46): and for the record, today was fun for me too

Unknown number (11:47): :D!
Unknown number (11:47): what are you doing up so late, hyung? I thought you said you were super tired!

Me (11:47): im talking to an idiot, hes been keeping me up

Jeonghan would be asleep already it hadn’t been for the chime of his notifications, and listening for it, checking his messages repeatedly to make sure there hadn’t been a new reply that made him smile.

Unknown number (11:49): I’m not an idiot :( And besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t wish you a good night?

There is a long list of reasons why Jeonghan shouldn’t be affected by this, so he scowls when his heart skips a beat.

In his silence, another message drops in.

Unknown number (11:49): Good night, Jeonghan.

Jeonghan has the sudden vision of Seokmin, deep-voiced and unthinkably, unthinkingly sexy, murmuring in his ear. He scowled harder.

Oh, but he was in trouble.

He sends a curt good night of his own, switches his phone off and closes his eyes, determined not to let some good-looking first year mess with him any more today.

Tuesday
Before you, it was hard and I was afraid
Because the thought that I was alone scared me

The next morning, Seokmin’s waiting for him at the train station, and there’s already a gaggle of girls laughing at something he’d said. Jeonghan stifles a smile.

When he spots him, Seokmin hurries over. He’s so bright Jeonghan has to squint at him.

“Shall we get on, hyung?”

“Where’s my morning call?” Jeonghan says, poking Seokmin in the ribs once they’ve boarded. “Hm? What kind of boyfriend doesn’t call me first thing in the morning?”

Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry. “Hyung just looked like the kind of person that doesn’t appreciate being woken up,” he says, but his lower lip is trembling. Jeonghan privately considers the possibility that he’s a sadist. “But I promise I’ll do it from now on if it makes you happy.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “I’ll most probably cuss you out if you try.”

Seokmin’s eyes finally land on his, shocked.

Jeonghan snorts at his expression and turns away, feeling kind of energetic. “What if you’re not someone’s ideal boyfriend? Then this weekly thing ends, right? People won’t come to you if it gets out that you promise what you can’t deliver. What then?”

For a beat, Seokmin’s expression is hidden.

When he looks up he’s smiling so wide Jeonghan stumbles a little in surprise. “Then I’d be glad, so glad,” Seokmin says, laughing as he reaches out to steady Jeonghan. “It means that someone loved me enough to know me and expose what a disaster I am. I think that that’s what I wanted, all along.”

Jeonghan stares at him. He feels a blush blaze down from his cheeks to his neck.

“You really are an idiot,” he says.

Seokmin’s eyes widen before the crinkle into a smile. “Ah, but I’m Jeonghannie-hyung’s idiot.”

Jeonghan turns away, his heart in his throat. “Idiot,” he insists, loud enough for the group of second-year girls on the carriage with them to hear. They giggle and duck their heads, and Jeonghan decides that he’ll blame that on Seokmin, too.

They make plans for a date. "I've got it figured out this time," Seokmin says, nervous and stubborn as Jeonghan hints at visiting the bakery again. "I'll come and pick you up after school, hyung, leave it to me."

Jeonghan eyes him. "But what if I don't have fun, hm?"

Seokmin shakes his head, refusing to be teased. He takes Jeonghan's hands in his and warms his cold fingertips before he threads their fingers together. Jeonghan's shocked enough to not immediately snatch his hand away. "I promise it'll be worth your time, hyung," he says, and his eyes are dark and Jeonghan's face is burning. "I promise I'm worth your time."

With that, his face breaks into a tentative smile and he lets go of Jeonghan's hands, stepping away and taking his furnace-like heat with him as he went. 

Before Jeonghan could say anything, the morning bell rings through the school, and Seokmin shoots one last smile at him before he sprints to his own building. 

Jeonghan's blush doesn't die down for hours. 

"What kind of date is this,” Jeonghan drawls. Seokmin's brought him to the movie theater and Jeonghan's feeling ornery at the sight of all the touchy-feely couples, as well as by how unaffected Seokmin seems by Jeonghan when Jeonghan can hardly brush shoulders without going a little red. “Is this what gets the girls excited?”

Seokmin raises an eyebrow. His voice is light and curious when he asks, “Not to your tastes, then, hyung?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “If I was a thirteen-year-old girl, then sure. But as it is—”

He’s being difficult on purpose and he thinks even Lee Seokmin, good-natured idiot, must be able to tell. He wants to see Seokmin smooth away his irritation, to paste on a smile and charmingly ask where Jeonghan would prefer to go instead.

Lee Seokmin whacks him on the shoulder and Jeonghan, startled, stumbles forward.

“Don’t be mean,” Seokmin sings, laughing in Jeonghan’s bewildered face. “I’m sure there’s a thousand other scary things you want us to do, but this is nice.”

“It’s boring,” Jeonghan says, grasping.

Seokmin rolls his eyes, humor tucked in the corners of his lips. “Won’t you give it a try? For me, your cutest dongsaeng?”

Jeonghan jerks his head away but Seokmin isn’t having it, stepping around him to follow his gaze and make more ridiculous faces. “Jeonghannie-hyung,” he wheedles, mouth pushed out in a pout. “Don’t you want to play with me?”

Jeonghan sighs and covers his face with his palm, only to snatch it away when Seokmin puffs out an amused breath.

“You really have no shame, do you,” Jeonghan says.

Seokmin’s eyes crinkle. “None,” he says, and grabs his free hand and tugs him inside.

Jeonghan, still wide-eyed, follows.

The movie’s a good one. Not great, but the plot is interesting and he gets into the mystery aspect more than he’d like to admit. In the back of his mind he wonders if Seokmin planned this, but there was no way, was there? Jeonghan was overthinking it. Perhaps all the detective stuff had gone to his head.

Halfway through, Seokmin’s hand slips into his and when Jeonghan turns, bemusedly, to face him he finds Seokmin’s face bathed in light, his eyes closed tight. At every loud noise, he flinches a little and the squeezes Jeonghan's hand a little harder. 

A grin steals across Jeonghan’s face before he can stop it, and he squeezes back. He’s rewarded with a vice grip that he can’t get out of for the rest of the movie, no matter how pointedly he coaxes.

The movie ends well past dusk, and the streetlights have already been switched on. Jeonghan picks up ice cream for them to pay Seokmin back for the tickets, and Seokmin accepts without fuss, switching their cones with good humor when Jeonghan decides he likes the flavor Seokmin got better.

“The movie wasn’t even supposed to be scary,” Jeonghan tells him, pretending to be crosser than he really is while he massages feeling back into his hand. “Who freaks out over detective mysteries?”

Seokmin smiles with a pout, which was a cute combination. Jeonghan had to remind himself really hard that he wasn’t supposed to kiss Seokmin under the bright lights of the storefronts, mess up his hair a little and make him blush. He wanted Seokmin to be anticipating it for their first kiss, trembling with anticipation.

Jeonghan puts his hands in his pockets. Dangerous, dangerous.

“Serial killers are just, like, inherently scary okay,” Seokmin is mumbling, missing Jeonghan’s little moment entirely. He looks at Jeonghan, bright eyed. “That guy in Spongebob? Also scary.”

Jeonghan laughs and Seokmin looks pleased with himself. “So context doesn’t matter to you, huh. What if there was a serial killing puppy, what then.”

“Still scary,” Seokmin says gravely. His eyes flicker over Jeonghan’s shoulder and he's slipping an arm around Jeonghan’s waist before Jeonghan can react, pulling him to his side to make room on the pavement for another couple to pass.

Jeonghan's heart kicks up. He wiggles out of Seokmin's solid grip and Seokmin looks at him, eyes dark. He looks away for a moment, his throat working, and Jeonghan watches as color sweeps up his neck, up to his cheekbones, disappearing behind his clunky glasses. 

It wasn't just him, Jeonghan thinks giddily. 

He breaks away and almost skips ahead. Seokmin's cheeks are still dusted with red when he catches up to him, and Jeonghan, magnanimously, reaches out to hold his hand. Seokmin beams. 

The theater’s not far from their houses so they walk at a meandering pace. Seokmin asks questions about the movie and Jeonghan enjoys explaining.

When he reaches home, he realizes that he hadn’t stopped smiling since the movie ended.

“Oppa’s happy,” his sister observes at dinner. He schools his face into an ogre’s grimace and she giggles.

After he goes to bed, he can’t help staying up, waiting. He’ll sleep at eleven, he promises himself. That was more than enough sleep, even for him.

At eleven-fifteen, Seokmin calls him.

“It’s a school night,” Jeonghan says, though he sounds more fondly amused than he’d like. “Is it important?”

There’s a silence on the other end. Then: “I guess not,” says Seokmin, and Jeonghan doesn’t have to be observant as he is to catch the reed of hurt in his voice. “You were probably asleep. Sorry about that. Good night, hyung.”

“Good night,” Jeonghan says smugly. I’m not going to back off, he thinks gleefully. If you want to talk, then you have to bring it up yourself.

There’s a rustling on the other end. When Seokmin speaks again, it’s tireder than he sounded before, dripping with sleep: “See you tomorrow then, hyung. Sleep well.”

There’s a click.

For the first time in a long time, Jeonghan gapes at the ceiling, trying to process. As soon as the full realization that he’d actually hung up dawns, Jeonghan calls him back without thinking.

“Jeonghan?” Seokmin’s voice is raspy and groggy. “Whassamatter?”

“What do you mean, what’s the matter,” Jeonghan seethes. “You called me because you wanted to talk to me, didn’t you? You wanted me to comfort you, didn’t you? So don’t hang up just because I was being petty! You should have just brought it up! What’s wrong with you?”

“But Jeonghannie-hyung sounded tired,” Seokmin says meekly, and Jeonghan nearly explodes with indignation.

“So what! I’m always tired. If you want to talk, talk. Enough of this putting other people above you. Seriously, how do you live like this?”

“Oh,” in the tones of someone having a revelation. “Jeonghannie-hyung is worried about me.”

“I’m worried about your stupidity,” Jeonghan says. When he touches a palm to his cheek it’s warm. “So? What did you want to talk about?”

“It’s silly,” Seokmin says immediately, bashfully.

“But isn’t that a given?” Jeonghan teased, laughing at Seokmin’s aggrieved hyung!

“I’m still scared of the movie,” Seokmin admits in a tiny voice. “I keep thinking about the scary parts.”

Jeonghan’s heart seizes even as he says, “Aren’t you seventeen years old? What’s with this elementary school level mentality?”

“But, but,” Seokmin says sadly. “It really was terrible.”

Jeonghan sighs. “I guess it’s kind of my fault you’re like this,” he says. “Since I’m in a lenient mood, I’ll do whatever you like to make you fall asleep.”

“Sing me something,” Seokmin says instantly. “I love Jeonghan-hyung’s voice.”

“Whatever you like, except that,” Jeonghan hedges.

“Ah, alright then.”

“Seokmin,” Jeonghan says, gritting his teeth. “Stop letting people take advantage of you!”

Before Seokmin could reply, Jeonghan barreled on loudly: “Before that, what are your plans for Thursday?”

Seokmin makes a soft noise of curiosity. “Nothing, hyung.”

“Good,” Jeonghan says loudly. “It's short notice, but you should come to Bumzu-hyung’s wedding with me. If you want.”

Seokmin takes in a sharp breath.

“Soonyoung’s coming too,” Jeonghan adds uncertainly.

Seokmin half-laughs. “Hyung. I’d go anywhere you asked.”

“No need to go overboard,” Jeonghan grumbles, his cheeks warm. “Now, are you tucked in? I know idiots don’t catch colds.”

“Hyung, my song?”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Jeonghan mumbles. “If it’s bad but you can’t complain, alright?”

“I could never—”

Jeonghan’s singing cuts off whatever cheesy thing he was about to say. In no time at all, he hears the soft, nasal regularity of Seokmin’s breathing.

He actually fell asleep. Jeonghan stares at his phone in amazement.

Wednesday
I used to be cold
But now I worry about you all the time

At the beginning of the year, their shared wariness of assuming authority led Jeonghan to toss a coin with Jihoon over who had to be president of the choir club after Bumzu-hyung left, a battle of luck and fate that Jeonghan naturally won. And while he doesn’t regret yielding the spotlight, he does have a niggling sense of guilt whenever he sees more responsibility piling on top of Jihoon’s tiny overworked shoulders.

Guilt that leads him to making stupid offers, every once in a while.

“I’ll close up,” he tells Jihoon after practice. He already regrets everything about this, but he can’t take it back after seeing the look of sheer relief that passes Jihoon’s little face. “You go ahead and do your weird musical genius thing. Seokmin-ah will help me. Or not,” he amends, when he sees Jihoon go tiny thundercloud again. He waves Seokmin off.

“I’ll wait outside then?” Seokmin mumbles.

Jeonghan shrugs. “If you’d like.”

As soon as the door has slid shut behind him, Jihoon says, “Before you start, hyung, I have nothing against our maknae. It’s just that he’s,” Jihoon winces, “loud.”

Jeonghan relates on a spiritual level, but feels defensive nonetheless.

“Sometimes it’s nice to have someone that energetic around. Think about it, Jihoonie. Choir club is just you, me and Shua. Having someone upbeat can’t hurt.”

“I’m surprised you’re saying that, after all the trouble you went through to make sure Soonyoung didn’t join.” Jihoon taps his chin and it’s a good thing he’s cute, because Jeonghan can vaguely see the direction this is heading and he doesn’t like it one bit. “Are the rumors true then? You, Seokmin and Soonyoung have some kind of unholy love triangle going on?”

“Far be it from me to deprive you of your gossip, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan says drily, and Jihoon has the grace to blush. “For what it’s worth, Seokmin and I are dating. For the week. Soonyoung is just being Soonyoung.”

Jihoon’s eyebrows disappear behind his dyed-pink bangs. He looks like a dismayed strawberry. “Hyung, you’re Seokmin’s partner of the week? You? But you’re—you.” He gestures, indicating Jeonghan’s Jeonghan-ness. “You can date anyone you wanted.”

Jeonghan is flattered by this seemingly universal misconception that he’s a catch, but doesn’t show it. “Yeah, well, I wanted to date a happy-go-lucky idiot. And a lot of people told me he was nice. I wanted to see what a genuinely good guy was like.”

Jihoon shifts in his seat, like the socially awkward bean he is. “I hope it works out for you,” he says, and it sounds sincere. “Been on any dates?”

“Yeah, and we’re going on one later,” Jeonghan says suspiciously.

“That’s nice,” Jihoon hums.

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, and silence descends. Jihoon squirms for a full minute before he comes out and blurts:

“You should invite him to the wedding!”

“I will do no such thing,” Jeonghan says, on reflex. Then he gapes, “Why do you care, Jihoon-ah?”

“Because Bumzu-hyung’s been badgering me nonstop for details of your love life,” Jihoon admits miserably and Jeonghan thinks, so that’s what’s going on. He should have known Kye Bumzu was behind this. “You know how he is when he’s in Hyung of the Year mode, he’s afraid you’re lonely.”

Knowing Bumzu, he probably said something along the lines of gotta make sure Jeonghannie doesn’t die a crotchety old virgin. The way Jihoon is avoiding eye contact all but confirms this.

“You devious little strawberry,” Jeonghan says affectionately. “Is that the real reason you sent Seokmin-ah out? You adore that kid.”

Jihoon pouts. For someone who claims to be completely dead inside, he has bucketfuls of aegyo, and Jeonghan is nothing if not a sucker for cute things.

“Fine, you can report back to Bumzu-hyung that I’m bringing a date because I already invited him. No need to go into detail, he can meet him at the wedding.” And isn’t that a terrifying prospect, the immovable object of Kye Bumzu meeting the unstoppable force of Lee Seokmin. If Bumzu hadn’t been the closest thing he had to a real brother Jeonghan would have seriously considered uninviting himself.

Jihoon sighs. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Any more questions, or am I done for the day?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You’re so dramatic, hyung, I swear Seokmin-ah’s perfect for you. Thanks for clearing up, see you tomorrow.”

“So cold,” Jeonghan whines as Jihoon unsubtly begins to nudge him out. “Are you chasing me out so you can write more puppy love poems to Nayoung in peace?”

“Out,” Jihoon insists. Jeonghan gives one last, affectionate squeeze to his red ears before he leaves.

Out in the hallway, he looks around for Seokmin without even realizing what he’s doing. He’s in front of the (supposedly closed) dance practice room when he hears a familiar voice and a spark of Pavlovian excitement zings through his brain.

“Take care on your way home, Jisoo-hyung.”

Seokmin sounds cheerful for someone who got kicked out of his clubroom for being noisy. Jeonghan has a brief dilemma: does he decide to check in on the dance club on a whim, or linger out here in the hallway?

Or he could just stop being stupid and call out to his boyfriend.

Thankfully, Jisoo appears from the room before Jeonghan can do anything dumb. His smile grows more cat-like than ever when he spots Jeonghan hovering outside the door and Jeonghan regrets the day he ever befriended this demon.

“Ah, Jeonghan,” Jisoo says, very loudly. “Fancy meeting you here. Were you looking for someone?”

“Not particularly.” Jeonghan curses himself when Joshua’s eyes crinkle even further. He was unbearable enough without Jeonghan playing right into his hands.

“Is that right? Not even your boyfriend?”

“Oh? Seokmin-ah’s in there? I wasn’t aware.”

“But I don’t remember you having a habit of standing outside random doors.”

“You must remember wrong, then. Hey, Seokmin-ah,” Jeonghan says. “Are we ready to head home?”

Seokmin nods enthusiastically. “How about you, Shua-hyung?”

“I think I’ll head home too,” Jisoo says, with a dramatic sigh. “I’ve already seen everything I needed.”

Jeonghan shoos him away. “Ignore him,” he tells Seokmin. “Do you want to stop by the bakery again today?”

Seokmin nods again. He’s ridiculously easy to please, Jeonghan thinks as their hands find each other naturally. It’s cute.

“Do you come here a lot?” Seokmin says, looking around. There’s a good amount of people, but the bakery’s big enough to make it feel cozy instead of crowded, and they have their customary window seat that Jeonghan will bear any amount of jostling for. “Because I’ve lived here my whole life, but I haven’t seen this bakery till you brought me here.”

“Because you’re an airhead,” Jeonghan says. “And I come here with my mom and my sister a lot.”

He reaches forward to give Seokmin a bite of his pastry.

“It’s such a great place,” Seokmin says. “Ah, this is delicious.”

Jeonghan wonders why he sounds so wistful, before he realizes: “You can come here after next week, no matter how things turn out between us, you know. I don’t own this place. And even if I did, I wouldn’t want you to go without eating these pastries. Slob,” he adds affectionately, leaning over to swipe some chocolate syrup off the corner of Seokmin’s mouth with his thumb.

Seokmin gives him a bright, fierce grin.

Jeonghan returns to sipping his half-finished milkshake and flipping through the dessert menu, absent-mindedly popping his thumb into his mouth to lick the chocolate sauce off. He glances up to see Seokmin blinking at him.

“What?” he asks.

Seokmin shakes his head. His cheeks are a little pink. “Nothing,” he says, and buries his head back in his own plate.

“Jihoon-ah wanted you to come to the wedding tomorrow,” Jeonghan says, remembering. “You are coming, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, hyung!”

“Right, right,” Jeonghan says, laughing. “The thing is, Jihoonie wouldn’t have asked me if Bumzu-hyung hadn’t asked him. So be prepared. Bumzu-hyung can be…a lot.”

Seokmin blinked at him, curious.

“You’ll see for yourself tomorrow.”

Seokmin sighs. “How can I be prepared if I don’t know what to prepare myself for, hyung,” he whines, playacting. Jeonghan feeds him more pastry to appease him, and he says, gently curious, “Are you and Bumzu-hyung close, Jeonghannie-hyung?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan says. “I would have quit the club if it wasn’t for him. He was a good president, and a good friend. In a way, he was the one who helped me fit in here the most when I was just an awkward little worm in my first year.”

If Seokmin’s surprised by any of this, he doesn’t show it. “Like me now.”

“Not really,” Jeonghan says, honestly. “You’re closer to how Bumzu-hyung is than how I used to be. Both of you are a lot alike.”

Comfortable in their own skin, he means. Easygoing and bright, in a way that made people want to draw closer like they were the sun.

“If I do aegyo, will you give me the rest of that choco-pie,” Seokmin says abruptly.

Jeonghan looks down at his plate to hide his expression. No use showing Seokmin exactly how happy he made him right now.

“Depends,” he says, and leans forward, cupping his face on one cheek, settling in. There was no place else he’d rather be. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Thursday
There are still so many things
I ended up not being able to tell you

The entire choir lineup from last year had been invited, as well as Bumzu-hyung’s favorite Soonyoung. The wedding was in a part of the district none of them knew well, and so Jeonghan was stuck on navigation duty on the passenger seat of Seungcheol’s dad’s SUV as the kids rap battled in the backseat. Jeonghan had brought Seokmin as his plus-one, Jisoo had brought Seungcheol (what was going on there, Jeonghan wondered). Jihoon had brought no one.

The wedding was due to start at six-thirty, and they all bundled out of the vehicle at six-fifteen, an endless clown car procession of Soonyoung and Seokmin, Jisoo, then Jihoon with his guitar. Jeonghan almost felt sorry for the couple as the riot of noisy boys descended into the tranquil outdoor peace of Bumzu’s picturesque wedding. He and Seungcheol exchanged grim looks, and headed for the main sources of disturbance: Seokmin and Soonyoung, whose diss-off was still in full swing.

“Seokmin-ah, your clothes are a mess,” he says, approaching Seokmin who goes nervously still when Jeonghan grabs his tie. He's a mess, but an attractive one: his rumpled jet black hair matches his suit, and he’s all sharp angles and molten-dark eyes behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.

“I like it when Jeonghannie-hyung’s bossing me around,” he confesses in a low voice.

He’s handsome, and Jeonghan has to resist the urge to touch his face. He can feel the beginnings of a blush warming his cheeks.

He reaches up and plucks Seokmin’s glasses off his face instead.

“So you’re some kind of masochist, is that it,” he says, cleaning the lenses with his shirt. He returns them to Seokmin, setting them carefully on his nose.

Seokmin appears to give this serious thought. “I think I just like the idea of Jeonghannie-hyung caring about me,” he says, “but maybe I am. Oh, are those crab sticks? Yummy.”

He wanders off, leaving Jeonghan frozen where he stands.

“I’ve never seen Jeonghannie-hyung so flustered,” Soonyoung says, a full minute later as he passes by. There’s no guile in his tone, and Jeonghan relaxes. “Seokminnie’s giving you a hard time?”

“Whoever said that he’s perfect owes me a drink,” Jeonghan says.  “That kid’s a mess.”

“That must be why you get along so well then,” Soonyoung says slyly. “Jeonghannie-hyung does love taking care of people.”

Jeonghan has no interest in pursuing that line of conversation. “Tell that to Kim Mingyu,” he says. “Is he still trying to spread that rumor that I’m the son of Satan?”

“Worse,” Soonyoung says sympathetically. “He’s a big fan of Seokmin’s, he'll never forgive you for corrupting him. Hyung, look, the people over there are waving at you.”

“Oh, that’s Bumzu-hyung’s parents,” Jeonghan says, flustered all over again. “How’s my tie?”

Jeonghan proceeds to greet nearly all the guests. Bumzu’s cousins flock to him, Raina’s sisters, an endless line of their mutual university friends that Jeonghan had met over the past year, visiting Bumzu and Raina's loud, joyful apartment. Seokmin’s eyes widen when Jeonghan finally staggers back to his side at the designated choir club table, curling under the arm Seokmin readily puts around his shoulders and quietly beginning to recharge.

“Our Jeonghannie’s the reason Bumzu-hyung and Raina-noona are still together,” Seungcheol is telling his flock of first and second years. “Everyone could see they were completely in love, but they had a fight in their third year so bad that everyone thought they'd break up for sure. It was Jeonghannie here that plotted and talked and tricked them into stopping their dumbassery and getting back together. It took him months.”

“Jeonghannie’s scary when he gets into something,” Jisoo says. Jeonghan, from under Seokmin’s arm, glares at him.

“Jeonghannie-hyung’s amazing,” Soonyoung corrects.

Jeonghan turns his head up to look at Seokmin. “And what do you think?”

Seokmin smiles and presses his thumb to the corner of Jeonghan's lips. His eyes are full of heat, a low, steady simmer that makes Jeonghan's stomach squirm comfortably.

“I think I’m very lucky to be your date today, hyung.”

Bumzu and Raina both cry as they exchange vows—as does Seokmin, Jeonghan notes with amusement. He tries not to laugh too loud and slips his hand into Seokmin’s, because it really is a lovely wedding.

He’s almost stopped crying when last year’s choir club –Jeonghan, Jisoo and Jihoon, all three of them avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone—shuffle up on stage for their song, at which point he sets off again.

Jeonghan, for his part, is relieved when the song’s over because this was Bumzu’s idea, his stupid sentimentality that Jeonghan’s quashed and quashed but still stupidly always went along with. Bumzu’s beaming at the end of it; Jeonghan ignores him, pointedly.

And then Jisoo’s stepping to the front, and Jeonghan experiences a premature chill running down his back.

“That song was written by our Jihoonie, and the lyrics were from someone who’s always meddled in his friends’ lives. I think most of us here know that without Jeonghannie here this wedding wouldn’t be happening.” Jisoo doesn’t so much as flinch when Jeonghan steps on his foot. “So in honor of last year’s president and vice president of our club, we’ve made a short video. We hope you all like it.”

When Jeonghan joined the choir club on a whim in high school, it was the first time he’d been out of his depth in years. He’d had the brains and the athleticism to coast through elementary and middle school as a star student. Jeonghan was an old hand at pretending he was in his element no matter what he did; it was this tendency to never let his struggles show that almost made him quit the club before Bumzu found him. It was the visions he had of eventually becoming someone who fought for things that mattered that made him stay. 

Dating Seokmin is the same. Unfamiliar ground that Jeonghan treads because he likes the softer parts of himself that Seokmin draws out, that make him feel like he really is kind and smart and handsome, the perfect prince he’s supposed to be.

The video they’ve made in his honor is long, embarrassing, it’s humiliating. He wasn’t the smoothest in his first or second years in high school and Bumzu seems to have miraculously documented everything—from his awkward self-introductions to his uncertain dancing in last year’s trainwreck of a musical. He gives a few embarrassed chuckles to show his tablemates that it was okay to laugh, and they do, Jisoo perhaps more loudly than others—the asshole. Jeonghan’s leaning over to pinch his thigh under the table when he feels a weight on his side.

Seokmin is laughing so hard he’s fallen over, tears streaming down his eyes. He meets Jeonghan’s eyes and takes his hands. Jeonghan feels like he’s staring into the sun.

Oh, he thinks. This isn’t so bad.

He’s still embarrassed, but with Seokmin’s hand in his, it’s easier to see his past self blundering, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. He feels the ghost of it in him still, sometimes; the longing to be someone happy and carefree, trusting that the world would be kind to him if he was kind to other people.

That, Jeonghan thought, looking at Seokmin, was a truly admirable sort of person to be.

“Jeonghannie,” says Bumzu, in the middle of his circuit greeting the guests. He clasps Jeonghan’s hands and Raina kisses him on both cheeks and they both beam at him with a fondness that makes Jeonghan itchy around the neck. “Are you mad about the video?”

“No,” Jeonghan says, meaning it. “I’m happy you guys think I helped. I’m happy you guys are having such a great wedding.”

Bumzu’s eyes widen for a split second. Jeonghan supposes that sincerity isn’t his M.O.—he usually left that to fools with wide smiles and big hearts, but some things needed to be said out loud and it didn’t hurt to try, he was learning.

“Jeonghan-ah,” Bumzu says. “You’re a great kid, and I think you forget that sometimes. Of course we love you.”

Okay, so maybe this was going too far.

“Hyung, have you met Seokmin?” Jeonghan says abruptly, nudging him forward. “He’s a first year at the club. He’s, uh, my boyfriend.”

He turned to find Seokmin standing ramrod straight. He rolled his eyes at the kid’s oddness and clasped his hand, only to find his palms sweaty. Jeonghan grimaced.

“Nice to meet you, hyung, noona,” Seokmin said, his voice dropping into a lower register that took Jeonghan aback a little. “I’m really happy for you guys. Jeonghan-hyung talks about you a lot.”

“He does, does he.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes again. “I mention you in passing, don’t get excited.”

“Ah, but Jeonghannie-hyung was telling me the other day that you two are the perfect—” Seokmin keeps talking against the palm Jeonghan slaps against his mouth, his eyes curved into crescents, the little shithead.

“Perfect couple, huh,” Bumzu says contemplatively. He’s smiling, too. “Didn’t know Jeonghan was such a romantic. Makes sense though.”

“I'm so happy for you, Jeonghannie,” Raina says, calm and sweet as Jeonghan splutters. She touches his face briefly, cool against his warm skin before she turns to Seokmin and smiles. “It was really nice to meet you, Seokmin-ah.”

Seokmin looks starstruck. He doesn’t speak again till the newlyweds have moved on to the next table, at which point he turns and says, “They're both so...” he looks at Jeonghan, swallows. "It makes sense that Jeonghannie-hyung's friends are as special as he is."

“Fool,” Jeonghan laughs. “And I’ve had enough of people for now. I’m gonna go sit in the verandah. You can come if you want.”

Seokmin smiles, a fool, a baby, the perfect man. Jeonghan’s heart gives a resigned thump.

“I’d love to, hyung.”

Seungkwan is Bumzu’s fifteen-year old brother, fast-talking and precocious, and he and Seokmin become friends so fast it's a little alarming. He finds them on the verandah and they rope Jeonghan into their schemes, loud, nonsense games they make up on the spot that have no rules but Jeonghan cheats at anyway, out of principle. Though they're similar, Jeonghan finds it easier to make sense of Seungkwan, maybe because he's bolder and more aware of his surroundings than Seokmin is. Watching him go head to head with Jihoon would probably be fascinating.

“Ah, our Jihoonie will be a third-year by then,” Jeonghan muses out loud, after Seungkwan’s parents have come to drag him off to meet their friends, who Jeonghan could see cooing over his baby cheeks. He hides a smirk.

Seokmin hums and turns toward him, face soft with curiosity. “When’s that?”

“Next year, obviously,” Jeonghan says, deciding to keep the mental image of Jihoon karate chopping Seungkwan on the head to himself for now. “And you won’t be an idiot of a first-year anymore.”

“I know I won’t be such a reliable sunbae as Jeonghannie-hyung, but I’ll be okay,” Seokmin mumbles through a pout. “Besides, I can call you at your smarty-pants university and ask for tips!”

Seokmin’s ridiculous, and being around him draws out Jeonghan’s own ridiculousness. Jeonghan likes it. He’s always known he was too serious for his own good, but no one else has been as fun as Seokmin to tease and play around with, so he never must have bothered. It’s a lack in his life that he hadn’t been aware of before, and couldn’t ignore now.

He's changed, he thinks. In his own clumsy, earnest way, Seokmin had pulled him toward the sun. He would...he wouldn't forget this feeling. No matter what happened. 

A happy dream, Nayoung had said. To him it was like finding something that had always been lost. 

He brushes his thumb over Seokmin’s lips. It’s heady and overheated in his head. He thinks his eyes might be closed. “Whose fool are you,” he murmurs.

Seokmin swallows. “Jeonghannie-hyung’s fool,” he says, and his lips nudge against his. The initial sensation is raw and electric little like galaxies crashing together, gravity realigning under their very feet. After that dies down Jeonghan is left with an echo in his ears and Seokmin pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, more enthusiasm than finesse. Jeonghan doesn’t mind. He hasn’t kissed very many people, either.

After a melting handful of seconds, a buzzing noise reaches Jeonghan's ears.

“Oh,” Seokmin says, pulling away.

“What is it,” Jeonghan says, hazy. He can't stop watching Seokmin's mouth.

Seokmin fishes out his ringing phone from his pocket and groans.

“Don’t answer that," Jeonghan says, a little more alert now. Seokmin's hand is still cupped around his neck and he leans into it, enjoying the contact. "Make your Yu Gi Oh plans with Soonyoung some other time.”

“It’s not Soonyoung,” Seokmin says. He shows Jeonghan the screen. “See, it’s an unknown number. I’m not going to answer it.”

“Why not?”

Seokmin grimaces. “I don’t really feel like it.”

Ah, this kid is overacting, Jeonghan thinks, affectionate and mad at himself for it. Like any bad liar, this is one of Seokmin’s tells, and it doesn’t take a lot to figure out what he’s lying about.

“Is it an ex?” Jeonghan says. “One of your seven day friends?”

“I don’t know,” Seokmin says rigidly. His hands retract to his sides mechanically, robbing Jeonghan of the last of that lazy heat curling in the pit of his stomach as they go. “I don’t keep their numbers.”

Even though he'd suspected as much, Jeonghan fights not to react. “Seems awfully cold.”

In a few more days that’ll be him. Two at most, three if he’s lucky. Before they’d started dating he’d laughed at the idea of someone being desirable enough to have the whole school willing to fight for a week of his time; now he knows what it’s like to stand in the sun, can imagine himself swallowing his pride and picking up the phone next week, and the week after, and the week after that.

And Seokmin wouldn’t pick up. He wouldn't even know it was Jeonghan.

Jeonghan yanks away. The taste of their first kiss still lingers in his mouth, tooth-rottingly sweet.

“How will you call me at university then?”

Seokmin looks like he was hit. His lips part, and Jeonghan can see him struggle to speak. “Even if we don’t fall in love,” he says in a low voice, “I’d like to stay as your friend.”

“But do you do that to the others?”

Seokmin shakes his head.

Something chilly and unforgiving hardens in Jeonghan’s chest. “Then I don’t want you to treat me any different. This Sunday, I want you to delete my number like you did to all the rest.”

Seokmin's mouth is a jagged line of hurt. "Is that what you really want?”

“Don’t try those tricks on me, I taught you those,” he says flippantly, eyes already watering. “You’ve already learned to put people on the spot. Guess you aren’t so hopeless anymore, hm? Now I’ve got to go, I see Jisoo trying to talk to me.”

Joshua is doing no such thing, and seems bemused when Jeonghan latches on to his side, white-faced. He adapts gracefully, though, making room at his side and offering Jeonghan his champagne. Jeonghan chugs it down gratefully.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Don’t talk to me,” Jeonghan says.

Three years of friendship have numbed Jisoo to Jeonghan’s mood swings better than almost anyone else. He shrugs in a suit yourself kind of way and turns back to his contemplation of his cheesecake, crumbling it to pieces and half-heartedly bringing forkfuls to his mouth. His abject misery only seems to grow as Jeonghan's cools a little, enough for the surface of the pain to slough off. 

Several minutes of this and Jeonghan breaks. “What’s your problem.”

“Nothing,” Jisoo says. “No problem.”

“Hm.”

“It’s just,” Joshua says, in a quick, rushed way, “weddings, you know. Who doesn’t hate ‘em.”

Jeonghan follows the line of his gaze and almost groans when he finds Seungcheol slow dancing with Nayoung. It’s so cliché and terrible-awful that he could die, but also enough of a shock to send him reeling. Did Jisoo look like that when Seungcheol was going out with Jeonghan? All this time, had he—

Jeonghan leans back with a sigh, putting his arm casually around Jisoo and pulling his skinny frame to his side. “Being in love sucks.”

Joshua looks at him sharply, but then his eyes soften. “It really does, Jeonghan-ah.” He digs his pointy chin on Jeonghan's shoulder for a beat, laughing a little, before his eyes go over Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Speaking of which. Incoming.”

“Jeonghannie-hyung, is it okay if we—can we talk?”

Jeonghan looks up at Seokmin, beautifully polite. “Isn’t it getting late, Seokmin-ah? Your parents will worry.”

“Hyung-”

“And let’s not meet tomorrow. Jisoo told me he wanted to go out,” Jeonghan continues pleasantly. “It doesn’t do to destroy all my relationships now that I have a boyfriend, does it? Especially since they’ll be the ones comforting me once you’re done with me.”

“Hyung, that’s not-”

“Goodnight, Seokmin.”

Seokmin bites his lip hard, like he’s fighting tears. Jeonghan feels sick like he does in his nightmares of being in a car that’s out of control, careening towards destruction. Every reaction he gets from Seokmin is a victory. It’s proof he will be remembered, later, when Seokmin is going through the motions like this with someone else.

“How will you get home?”

He really is kind, thinks Jeonghan for the thousandth time and hating himself for it. Now was the time to raise his defenses, not lower them even further.

“Gonna spend the night at Shua’s,” Jeonghan says, forcing an extra layer of cheer into his tone. He can only imagine Joshua’s reaction to this spontaneous plan; their shared hatred of surprises was one of the things that made them friends. Still, better Jisoo’s wrath than having anything to do with Seokmin.

He had forgotten that Joshua was sitting right next to him. To his surprise, he says, “That’s right,” much more graciously than Jeonghan expected. There was something dangerously akin to pity in his eyes. “Jeonghannie, it’s getting late. Wanna get out of here?” Without waiting for his reply, Jisoo says good night to Seokmin in a cool, distant tone and begins towing his best friend away.

When Jeonghan looks back, Seokmin’s still standing where they left him. He looks like someone who's had his house blown away.

“Ah, I even prepared myself mentally to meet his parents,” Jeonghan says, later, forcing himself to sound nonchalant. He’d even been looking forward to it, sort of: the people who raised Seokmin to be cheerful and gentle the way only the most well-loved kids could be. “What a waste.”

Joshua rolls over in his bed and peers down at Jeonghan, making drops of water from his freshly-showered hair drip on his spare mattress that Jeonghan’s sprawled across. Jeonghan crinkles his nose.

“Ever heard of towels,” he says, the same time that Jisoo says, “You could call.”

“Call who?”

“You know who.”

“I have to call Lord Voldemort?” Jeonghan says, flinching as Jisoo flicks his forehead.

“Only Lee Seokmin thinks you’re funny, god,” Jisoo says. “Which is why you should call him. At least make sure he got home okay.”

“I made sure we stayed till he got in his car with his parents, what more do you want from me,” Jeonghan grumbles.

He ignores the way Jisoo’s looking at him. “Sometimes I forget you actually have a heart.”

Jeonghan flips him off lethargically. He’s tireder than he ought to be: he thought his stamina for weddings was much higher than this. 

Then he remembers Seokmin, his bowed shoulders and trembling mouth as Jisoo dragged him away, and feels his fists clench around nothing. 

“You need to decide, Jeonghannie,” Jisoo says, softly. “If you’re serious about this or not.”

“I have. I am.”

“So why does it look to me like you’re half-assing it as usual? You say it’s serious, but the second he does something that hurts you, you pretend you were only messing around. You need to stop pretending, whichever way it is.”

It’s strange to hear Jeonghan’s greatest flaws laid out like that, by Jisoo no less, Jisoo who knows what a fragile, glass-spun thing Jeonghan’s faith in his own goodness is. Jisoo knows how hard Jeonghan falls for people, and all the awful dickish things Jeonghan does to keep from getting close enough with anyone to fall in love.

They’re both cautious sort of people, so Jeonghan understands what Joshua’s saying: that sometimes you didn’t choose who you let into your heart.

“Since when were you an expert on this stuff?” Jeonghan says, because there’s too much to wrap his head around. And he hates when Jisoo’s right. “Last I checked, you were as hopeless as I am.”

Jisoo snorts. “Please, Jeonghan. I don’t have the guy I like trying his best to win me over.”

“I didn’t know you had a guy you liked at all.”

“Yeah, well,” Jisoo shifts. The glare he sends Jeonghan is defensive, almost a little nervous. “You get why it’d be hard to tell you, right?”

Jeonghan's trying his best to be careful, but there's some things they couldn't just tiptoe around. “Because I used to date Cheol?”

Jisoo nods. He looks sadder than Jeonghan's ever seen him, more affected. Because that's how they both were: cool and unapproachable, until that last line was crossed.

“Because you used to date Cheol," he agrees, mouth a downturned line. 

They don't open up to each other like this very often. Jeonghan would have lived happily the rest of his life just hinting around all his problems, but since recently he’s been feeling proactive, like maybe his feelings aren’t just there to be felt, like maybe he was supposed to do something about them. Weird.

“I can hear you plotting something,” Jisoo says suspiciously. “Leave things be, Jeonghan.”

“Hm,” says Jeonghan.

“I’m serious.”

Jeonghan lets out a loud, fake yawn. “Good night, Shua.”

Him and Jisoo both, they’ve been ponds collecting water, reflecting the sun; they’d been stagnating for long enough. It was time they shook things up a little.

Friday
Even if you get lost
And it takes you a while
Come round and round back to me

“You are such a meddler,” Nayoung says affectionately, after Jeonghan outlines his plan to her the next day. He’s commandeered the music room as their headquarters; he thinks Jihoon would die of frustration if he finds out, so he doesn’t tell him. “Tell me again why we can’t just let Cheol and Jisoo work this out for themselves?”

“Because if they could, they would have by now,” Jeonghan says.  Soonyoung’s just texted him Jisoo’s coordinates, and they’re almost in position. He stands up and shepherds Nayoung out.

“So what, now that you have your hashtag goals relationship with Lee Seokmin, you think everyone else needs to be paired up too? That is such a classic meddler way to behave.”

“Seokmin and I aren’t goals,” Jeonghan points out. “We practically broke up last night.”

That shuts her up till they reach their destination, the back of the gym. Jeonghan chose it specifically for its reputation as a spot for confessions. He must have spent half his high school career back here.

He shuffles around for a hiding spot, making sure not to be spotted by Joshua who, as planned, seems to have no idea of what’s coming. Soonyoung had done his job well.

Jeonghan’s just shot off a status update to the group chat (yes he made a group chat, Jisoo would strangle him and then die laughing if he ever finds out) when Nayoung finally unzips her mouth again.

“Oh, now I see what’s going on. I knew you were acting off,” she hisses, from the row of bushes she’s hiding behind. Jeonghan raises his eyebrows. “Seokmin’s a simple guy, Jeonghannie! You don’t have to come up with these convoluted fucking plans to apologize to him. Just say sorry.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Jeonghan hisses back, though if he thinks about it, maybe he kind of is. “I just thought it would be fun. He’s such a bleeding heart, isn’t this the kind of thing he’s into? Helping two lonely souls and all that?”

“Yeah, but this is such a Jeonghan way of doing it.”

“Occupational hazard,” Jeonghan says. “Seungcheol approaching from the right.”

Seokmin is following Seungcheol, doing a bad job of being surreptitious. He looks around and his whole being glows when he spots Jeonghan, and Jeonghan’s heart seizes.

“Oh my god,” Nayoung grumbles softly. “He’s so pretty.”

Jeonghan pretends not to hear, shuffling to the side to make room for Seokmin while keeping an eye on the developments: all seems well so far, since Seungcheol’s making a beeline for Jisoo. Maybe this would work.

A moment later, “It’s not gonna work,” Jeonghan realizes, dismayed. “They’re just talking normally! Who does that? They don’t even look awkward!”

“Maybe we should have signed Shua-hyung’s name?” Seokmin suggests.

“You didn’t put his name?” Nayoung hisses, furious. She starts hitting Jeonghan’s shoulder with her bony fists. “What kind of useless mastermind are you, Yoon Jeonghan? Where do you even get these ideas?”

“Shoujo manga,” Jeonghan says, unashamed. “Look, I overestimated them, okay? Shua’s standing exactly where the note said Cheol’s admirer would be standing, so I assumed that idiot would at least suspect.”

“I actually thought this might happen, since I’m not as smart as Jeonghannie-hyung,” Seokmin says. Jeonghan covers Nayoung’s mouth before she can say anything and gestures at him to carry on. “So I put his initials in English, so Cheollie-hyung would have a hint.”

Jeonghan’s smiling “You did good, Seokminnie,” is drowned by Nayoung’s frustrated “So why are they still acting like normal?”

“Oh,” says Seokmin, frowning. “I don’t know.”

A thought strikes Jeonghan. “Seokmin-ah,” he says, knowing the answer already, “What did you put his initials down as?”

Seokmin turns to him, confused. “Well, Jisoo-hyung always signs in the American way, so JH, for Joshua Hong.”

Jeonghan sighs. After a beat of confused blinking, so does Seokmin.

Nayoung looks between both of them. “What?”

“JH, for Joshua Hong,” Jeonghan says heavily, “or for Jeonghan.”

Comprehension dawns across her face. “You fucked up,” she tells him, blandly.

“I know,” Seokmin moans.

“I can’t believe you-- They’re leaving! Come on, do something, Mastermind-nim, you gotta fix this!”

With that, he’s shoved unceremoniously out of the bushes.

Jeonghan bristles like a cat when his two best friends turn their attention to him, surprised by his sudden appearance. If they didn’t notice them after all the racket Seokmin and Nayoung made, then they really were into each other.

Jeonghan cleared his throat. He was terrible at this stuff; he’d much rather go home and sleep.

“Where you guys headed?” he asks, high-pitched and off-key.

“Probably for ice cream? We can go with something else if you want to come, Jeonghannie.”

“No!” yells Jeonghan. “No,” he repeats, at a normal volume. “Aren’t you supposed to be waiting for someone, Cheol-ah?”

Seungcheol squints at him and Jeonghan prays for patience. “I just thought, you know, since this is kind of a common spot for confessions.”

Seungcheol’s whole body seems to go through a whole flux of emotions, bewilderment to realization to suspicion, before he settles on something like guilt as he stares at Jeonghan, who forestalls any nightmare-inducing misunderstandings by clarifying, “I’m sure Joshua Hong-ssi would like to say a few things to you.”

“Why are you saying my name like that,” Jisoo says, a moment before Seungcheol blurts,

“Shua, you like me?”

And Jisoo -Jeonghan’s cool kid, charming American best friend—blushes.

“Wh-what, no, why,” Joshua stammers unconvincingly.

“Do you?” Seungcheol presses. He takes a step closer. “Because I didn’t let myself hope that—I told myself no way it was you.”

“What are you talking about,” Joshua says in a flustered voice. “I—Cheol?”

“I’m so happy,” Seungcheol says, gravely. “I like you too.”

Joshua melts like butter. Jeonghan watches in horrified amusement as he malfunctions into a stuttering, blushy-blushy mess.

“Time to go,” Nayoung says, tapping Jeonghan’s shoulder. “I’m not letting you get this amount of blackmail material against them, you demon.”

“I’m an angel, though.”

“Yeah, and a terrible actor. What a waste of your face, you suck.” Nayoung sighs, and ruffles his hair a little. “But you did good, Jeonghan. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and complain to Eunwoo about boys. See you around!”

She slips away. Jeonghan can’t help feeling as if he’s been expertly led, especially when he finds Seokmin waiting for him by the side of the building, holding both their bags.

He looks up when Jeonghan clears his throat. His eyes are impossibly warm.

“Let’s walk home together, hyung,” he says.

Jeonghan’s throat is dry. “Okay.”

The bakery is a familiar stop on the way home by now. It’s routine, and Jeonghan’s a sucker for routine. After five days, he’s already associating it with dates with Seokmin; he means to quell that habit with a vengeance once all of this is over, but for now, well. It’s nice to have a place that automatically makes him smile.

Seokmin places their order and waddles to his seat across Jeonghan. Their table near the window is open even though the place is busy: this, too, Jeonghan counts as a miracle engineered by the gods that favored Seokmin. Despite all his stern rules about not getting used to this, Jeonghan already has, but now that he’s determined not to half-ass it, it seems more like a comfort than a burden.

“I ordered you the strawberry one, so you have to give me a bite,” Seokmin says as he sits. “Please?” he wheedles, as Jeonghan pretends to consider. “I’ll do as much aegyo as you want.”

Jeonghan smiles immediately. “Sounds like a good deal, Lee Seokmin-ssi. Maybe throw in a few bites of whatever you got, and maybe I’ll say yes.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Yoon Jeonghan-ssi. Is this counting or not counting the bites you’ll steal anyway?” Seokmin, too, is grinning. It’s so easy with him, so easy to want him, to want to lean over and kiss his smiling mouth. Jeonghan has never wanted anyone like this before.

“Not including,” he says, crossing his arms under the table so he won’t do anything stupid. “Don’t I deserve it for doing all the hard work I did today?”

Seokmin softens visibly. “Of course you do, hyung,” he says, beaming. “What you did was so cool. You really are an angel.”

“Yeah, well,” Jeonghan says. He plays off his discomfort with a smile. “Guess even a fool like you knows that.”

“If it were me I’d be too nervous to do it,” Seokmin says. Jeonghan really wishes he’d drop it. “But hyung did everything perfectly.”

“You would have done it for your friends too,” Jeonghan says. “Besides, I didn’t even notice they liked each other. It was the least I could do to apologize to Jisoo.”

“Because you dated Coups-hyung?” Seokmin asks.

Jeonghan nods.

He doesn’t ask who told him, because all odds are that it was Nayoung. He keeps being surprised by how close they are before he remembers that they used to date. Seven days were long enough to reveal your darkest secrets to a person. Seven days were long enough for a lot of things.

Jeonghan’s seven days were almost over. He felt like he had barely met Seokmin.

“Seven days is such a short time,” Seokmin says.

Jeonghan stills.

“But I feel like I’ve known you forever, hyung, I feel like—like we were meant to meet.” Seokmin’s dark eyes leave no room to run, no room to even breathe.

“I didn’t need seven days to decide,” Seokmin says. “You’re so pretty, and kind, and smart, hyung. There’s no way I would want to end this.”

“Why,” Jeonghan breathes.

“Why?”

“Why do you—like me.”

“Like I said,” Seokmin says, smiling in that big, puppyish way. “You’re the kindest, smartest, prettiest person I know, hyung. Why wouldn’t I like you?”

For a moment there, Jeonghan had thought—he’d really thought—

“That’s the best you can do, then,” Jeonghan says. He feels vindicated, a little, when the big grin slides off Seokmin’s face, because his own heart hurts more than he can comfortably breathe around. “It’s really no wonder you’ve been having to do this for so long, if that’s as far as it goes.”

Seokmin’s expression contorts. Jeonghan can’t believe he’s still trying to smile, after Jeonghan called him out like that.

“Pretty is good,” Jeonghan says, quietly. “Pretty is nice. But people don’t fall in love with pretty.”

And there it is: the shimmer across Seokmin’s eyes, just like Jeonghan predicted. He barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. He really should have known better, known a lost cause when he saw it. Seokmin will break up with him now, and he’ll see him holding hands with a girl who giggled at him constantly from next Monday on.

Jeonghan clenches his fists. At least he didn’t say that stupid apology, he reminds himself. If Lee Seokmin said his famous I couldn’t fall in love with you, let’s break up line to him Jeonghan doesn’t know what he’d do. If there was anyone that would make him want to get out of this meaningless arrangement earlier than usual, it would be Jeonghan.

“We made it till Friday,” he says, light and airy so Seokmin won’t notice the tremble in his hands. “Not bad. I think your routine needs a little work to get through to contrary assholes like me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Seokmin looks at him, eyes big and searching.

When he speaks again, his voice is soft, with a firmness Jeonghan wasn’t expecting. “Hyung, when I said it’s never been like this before—I meant it. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t mean it.”

Jeonghan feels his smile spread wider. The anxiety has a chokehold on his heart. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He waits for Seokmin’s expression to grow bland and distant. For him to decide he’s not worth the trouble. Tears, maybe, to accompany the inevitable Jeonghan, let’s break up.

What he gets instead is a squared jaw. “If Jeonghannie-hyung doesn’t believe me, that means I have to work harder till he does.”

“What—no—” Jeonghan says, alarmed, but he gets cut off, again, by Seokmin.

“Let me try again.”

As Jeonghan’s brain struggles, Seokmin’s chin juts up. “Hyung, I have two more days left. Let me try again.”

Jeonghan laughs in his face, mostly out of confusion. “What if I want to break up today? That’s not against your rules, is it?”

“Forget about the rules,” Seokmin snaps, and he only seems to realize he’s leaned directly into Jeonghan's space when Jeonghan reflexively leans back. He stops, but his eyes flash.

Jeonghan thinks, oh.

He was serious about this.

It’s all he can do to stop the a mindless grin from breaking out across his face.

“Please, hyung,” Seokmin says, low-voiced like he'd been just before he'd kissed him. “Let me fix this.”

Saturday
Without anyone knowing, I’ve changed
I’m all mixed up in you

Seungcheol and Jisoo are on a date on Saturday morning, and don’t take kindly to Jeonghan’s gracious offer to tag along, especially after they recognized the writing on Seungcheol’s love letter. He sleeps the morning away and has a late brunch of leftovers, scrolling idly through his phone, when it chimes with a notification.

His heart still races double-speed by habit.

It’s only Nayoung: Shua and Cheol tell me ur being a pain in the neck, she says. Come down to the courts.

Jeonghan tries to muster the motivation and fails. Before he can type his regretful declination, Nayoung says: Seokmin thinks athletes are cool. He’s not here now, but you don’t want to get out of practice, do u?

Marveling at how predictable he’s become, he tells her: ill be there in 20

“He said let me,” Jeonghan tells Nayoung later, sitting across from her on the hot asphalt of the basketball court as she wolfs down her gross-flavored yoghurt of the day.

She snorts, her spoon halfway to her mouth.

Jeonghan’s just glad she’s too worn out for more judgement, because he’s too worn out for anything except this semi-involuntary confession that he just blurted out. Another downside of this rollercoaster week: he’s become unable to keep his mouth shut about anything.

“And we all know how much of a slut Yoon Jeonghan is for the illusion of choice,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He’s a dumb kid, Jeonghannie. I don’t know why you’re expecting so much out of him.”

Jeonghan gives her a look.

When Nayoung returns to her yoghurt, it’s with a grumble. “All this time, that’s all it took to melt you down?”

“It’s more than that,” Jeonghan grumbles back. “It felt like he really meant it, you know. Like he wasn’t just going through the motions.”

Nayoung’s whole face twists into complete incredulity. “Yoon Jeonghan, nothing he’s done for you so far has been him going through the motions.”

Jeonghan squints at her. “But you said that he makes everyone feel special. Explain.”

“Listen, you unbelievable dumbass. When I said that, I meant he literally makes them feel that way. He listens to our opinions and remembers our tastes, but he doesn’t engage. He doesn’t, say, bribe us with aegyo into doing stuff for him. It’s always a one-way street. And he never, ever asks anyone out, or kisses them. This is basic stuff, Jeonghan-ah. I can’t believe you forgot.”

“He was serious about you from the very beginning,” Nayoung says, smiling at the look on his face. “You were just too much of a fool to notice.”

Sunday
Let’s not believe that first love never comes true

When Jeonghan comes to their meetup spot near the river, he finds Seokmin on his phone, looking as if he’s quietly debating texting him. He’s wearing one of his oversized blue shirts, nice jeans and bright orange sports shoes that hurt Jeonghan’s eyes, and he shouldn’t look as beautiful as he does—but Jeonghan’s getting used to always, always finding Seokmin utterly captivating, and him dressing up for the date Jeonghan asked for only makes him more enchanting.

Jeonghan clears his throat as he approaches the bench.

“Thanks for coming. You, um. You look nice.”

Seokmin looks up and gives him an uncertain smile. Predictably, Jeonghan’s heart twists, weak as he is. “You too, hyung. Want to walk?”

Despite his passionate opinion that sitting is always better than walking, Jeonghan just smiles back and nods. He had a lot of nervous energy to burn, today.

Trying not to sound too rushed, he says, “Do you want anything from the convenience store before we go?” He plucks Seokmin’s glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them on his shirt, trying to hide the tremble in his hands.

When he puts them back on, Seokmin’s eyes dart to his lips, and then quickly away. Jeonghan will never get tired of making him blush like that.

“N-no,” Seokmin says, swallowing.

“Maybe ramen, later. My treat. I’m the one wanted this date, after all.”

He says date casually, flippantly; he’d be whistling if he could. Out of the corner of his eye he spots Seokmin duck his head to hide a big grin at the word and his own heart seizes up with relief. He’d been offering Seokmin an out—a chance to say they truly weren’t dating anymore—but he’s immensely grateful Seokmin didn’t take it.

“Sounds good,” says Seokmin. “Now tell me how much aegyo you want.”

Jeonghan looks up at him, flustered. “I don’t—it’s okay, Seokmin-ah, you don’t need to—”

“It’s fun,” Seokmin says. “All of Jeonghannie-hyung’s games are fun. Ah, but,” he adds ruefully, “some people may not like it, I think.”

Jeonghan snorts. “Did Kim Mingyu tell you I was Satan yet?”

“He doesn’t mean it, probably,” Seokmin says, as Jeonghan makes doubtful faces. “Anyway, it doesn’t really make a difference what Mingyu-yah thinks of you. He’s not the one dating you, I am.”

Jeonghan, who had been about to point out that his and Mingyu’s rivalry was mostly for show, clams up immediately and searches Seokmin for evidence of him having made a mistake. Dating instead of dated is a big difference and he needs to know which one he meant.

He marvels at himself, a little. One week ago he never would have believed he would have been this affected by anything.

“I’m a mess,” he laughs, shaking his head at himself. “What did you do yesterday?”

“Mostly I just moped at Soonyoung’s,” Seokmin says. Jeonghan laughs and earns a pout. “What?”

“It’s hard to imagine you moping, that’s all.”

“Hey, I can mope with the best of them! You don’t know me, I’m—ugh,” as he’s interrupted by his phone. Jeonghan doesn’t even try not be flattered when Seokmin fishes out his vibrating phone with obvious reluctance, his eyes quickly running across the screen.

“Mingyu really doesn’t like you, hyung.”

 Jeonghan is a little peeved. “Is that him? What’s he saying?”

“Not a lot, nothing serious.”

Jeonghan holds his hand out, silently asking for the phone, not really expecting anything. Something shakes apart in his heart when, without hesitation, Seokmin passes it over with the chat in question already opened.

Tell Jeonghan I’ll hit him if he breaks ur heart!!!

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and begins to type.

“What are you telling him,” Seokmin asks apprehensively.

“Just reminding him how our arm wrestling scores stand,” Jeonghan says. “If he wants to hit me he’s going to need to work on his arm strength.”

Seokmin yelps and tries to snatch his phone back; Jeonghan, deadly arm wrestling champion of the high school circuit, anticipates this move and moves to block him, digging his fingers under his ribs and tickling him until Seokmin’s breathless with laughing and wriggling away.

“Give it back,” Seokmin giggles, twisting both towards and away from Jeonghan. “If you don’t, I’ll—I’ll—I’ll tell Jisoo-hyung that you cried during the movie!”

“You devious little demon,” Jeonghan says. “I can’t believe you learned all my tricks in just a few days. You’ll be asking me for aegyo next. For that, I’m going to send Mingyu a string of winky faces.”

“Hyung, no!” Seokmin laughs.

“I’m – going to—hit—him—too—wink wink,” Jeonghan reads aloud as he types.

“Don’t send that!” Seokmin says. He puts his hand over Jeonghan’s, the warmth of his hand searing through his skin. “Please?”

Jeonghan huffs, and hands his phone back. His hand feels like it got burned.

How serious are you about this, Jisoo had said, like the answer would be simple. Like it ever could be simple, with Jeonghan being Jeonghan and Seokmin being Seokmin. Sometimes he thought they were sides of the same coin, and maybe they were, maybe all these irreconcilable differences were all made up inside Jeonghan’s head.

But the fact was: handsome as he was, smart as he was, kind as he (maybe) was, there was a reason Jeonghan didn’t date.

“I miss being me,” Jeonghan murmurs. “If you make me care about something that’s about fifty per cent of my personality gone, and then I’m just—someone ordinary. That’s why I'm like this, and only a fool would just crash through me like you did.”

Jeonghan claps a palm over his mouth, eyes wide, to stop himself from blabbering. “I didn’t mean that.”

To his surprise, a ghost of a smile is grazing Seokmin’s lips. “You’re unexpectedly clumsy, Jeonghan-hyung.”

Jeonghan nods. His mouth tastes bitter.

“You speak without thinking and you say hurtful things. Plus your personality’s kind of twisted. You hate to show others that you’re working hard. You try to be kind, even when it’s exhausting. It kind of doesn’t match my image of you.”

“So?” Jeonghan says. He feels it, bitter and heavy on his gut; ah, so he noticed. With every flaw Seokmin found, his spine tenses and tenses, till he felt brittle and ready to snap and splinter. “Disappointed yet?”

“Rather than disappointed,” Seokmin ducks his head in a smile, “I think that’s what made me fall in love with you.”

He looks up to check Jeonghan’s reaction, which is a mixture of shock and frozen panic. Jeonghan realizes that he’s panicking, and Seokmin’s panicking that he’s panicking, and he forces himself to laugh. It only makes things worse. Seokmin’s whole body spasms like he’s physically fighting the urge to run away.

Jeonghan launches on to his feet like a marionette. “I think you’re the first person who’s said that to me.”

Seokmin makes a choked noise.

“I think you’re the first person who’s said that to me, and meant it,” Jeonghan amends, a little saner. “Even the first time. You knew what you were talking about. I was the idiot that didn’t.”

“So?” Seokmin sounds so close, so soft, within reaching distance. His tone is gentle, like he’s afraid he might overstep some hidden line in the sand again. “Do you accept, hyung?”

Last night, Jeonghan realized that he felt like he’d spent all his life being passively confessed to. He'd always known it was nice to be loved, but maybe loving someone was even better. The realization was what ultimately made him text Seokmin, despite knowing Seokmin was patient enough to chase him till Jeonghan finally was brave enough to be honest.

For Seokmin, he would go a step further. He’d be brave enough to throw his pride away, for once, and do this right.  

“Seven days is such a long time, Seokmin-ah,” Jeonghan says. “I never realized. But our seven days are over.”

He turns around. Cherry blossoms catch in his hair; far off, someone’s playing a piano, and snatches of song catch in Jeonghan’s ears: we had barely met when dawn’s first light appeared.

Seokmin is standing very still, his hands held rigidly at his sides. Jeonghan's favorite smiling dongsaeng, always ready with a laugh or a joke, looks like he's fighting to be strong. His eyes say please. His eyes say whatever you want, hyung. 

“For seven more days, or even more than that,” Jeonghan says, “for as long as you can bear to, will you go out with me?”

Seokmin nods. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t believe it, even when Jeonghan gathers his still hands in his. 

“Come on,” Jeonghan says, begging as gently as he could. “We already have a ramen date planned, and then we’ll have a date after that, and another after that. Till you get sick of me.”

He takes one step closer, then another, till he was standing right in front of him.

Seokmin finally shudders, breaking his awful stillness. Hot tears start spilling down his cheeks. “Falling in love’s nothing like I thought,” he says, voice torn and stuttering. “It’s scary and painful and confusing, and it makes me hate myself.”

“That’s not love,” Jeonghan says, his own heart breaking. “That’s me.”

Seokmin swipes at his cheeks and shakes his head. “I’ve chased this feeling long enough to know, hyung. I’ve been trying all this time to find someone who makes me feel the way you do.” He shakes his head and laughs softly. “Maybe you’re right, I am a masochist.”

“You idiot,” Jeonghan says helplessly.

“You make me feel so special, hyung,” Seokmin says. “I was already grateful to you for giving me a week. Now you’re offering more than I could have ever dared to ask for, so how could I say no?”

“I’ll do things that make you mad to make you pay attention to me,” Jeonghan warns in a whisper.

Seokmin nods fiercely. His thumb brushes at the line of Jeonghan’s lashes. "Just try and catch me not paying attention to you."

“I’m serious. And I’ll get jealous every time you’re kind to someone.”

“I’ll just have to be kinder to Jeonghannie-hyung then, won’t I?”

“And you can’t blame me when I act mean to people who’re in love with you.”

“Never,” Seokmin vows on the tail-end of a breath. “Can I kiss you now?”

Monday
I will confess what’s been on the tip of my tongue tomorrow:
you are pretty

“It’s just a party, hyung,” Seokmin wheedles. He toes Jeonghan till he rolls over on the floor, and god, Jeonghan really should have seen this coming when he asked out the biggest social butterfly of their school, but he’d been convinced the pros outweighed the cons. And they do, ninety-nine per cent of the time. It’s just that one per cent where Seokmin’s waving nice shirts at him and trying to get him to interact willingly with the likes of Kim Mingyu.

“There’ll be other people there, hyung, you don’t have to talk to Mingyu,” Seokmin says when Jeonghan voices this. Is he rolling his eyes? Jeonghan was gonna kill the little shithead. As soon as he got up.

“Then it’ll look like I’m running away,” Jeonghan’s words are muffled against the cushions. “No, if I’m going, I’m going to tease him the whole night.”

“One day you’re going to tell me what it is with you and him,” Seokmin mutters. Then, he switches tack, saying “You know the whole choir club will be there. Soonyoung said he’ll be bringing Jihoonie-hyung.”

“Better call him and ask him for his hogtie and blindfold when he’s done with them, then.”

Seokmin groans and collapses. Silence descends, but Jeonghan knows better than to let his guard down. Seokmin rarely gave up that easy.

When he does attack, it comes from an entirely unexpected direction.

“I don’t want to be too clingy, hyung, and I’m trying. It’s just.” Seokmin keeps his eyes trained on Jeonghan’s knee. He's gone quiet in a way that Jeonghan's heart always aches to see. “I want you with me all the time. No matter what I’m doing, I want you to be there doing it with me. I know it’s selfish, and I’ve been trying to stop, but.” His voice drops to a whisper. “It’s never been this hard before.”

“Seokmin-ah, it’s not selfish,” Jeonghan says, sitting upright. His hands hover uncertainly above Seokmin’s face for a moment before he touches him, tracing abstract patterns on his jaw. “I feel that way too, it’s just that—I’m no good with big crowds, you know? And they’ll be talking, and then you’ll realize—”

Seokmin looks up at him as Jeonghan trails off. His eyes are very dark, endlessly deep.

“Realize what?”

“It’s just that,” Jeonghan murmurs against his lips, “you’re so far out of my league that it’s crazy. And they might make you see that.”

Seokmin’s face spasms. Jeonghan knows better than to think he’ll lose his temper, but he’s braced for disappointment, puppy eyes- a lot of things, except for the way Seokmin’s suddenly bursts out laughing.

“Hyung, you really are an idiot.”

“Watch who you’re calling an idiot, idiot—” Jeonghan’s words are cut off by a pair of lips crashing into his, while clever fingers deftly tip his face up, closer. “Ah, Seokmin,” Jeonghan hisses as Seokmin continues to bite kisses along his jawline while digging his hands in Jeonghan’s sweater to pull him closer.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, hyung,” Seokmin breathes into the curve of Jeonghan’s neck as Jeonghan shudders. “But really? I’m just taking you with me to show you off.”

Jeonghan sighs, defeated as Seokmin’s lips moved to the shell of his ear to nibble gently. “It’s me everyone’s going to wish they were. I bet they’ll all try to use the Shadow Clone Jutsu—”

“Go away, you fool,” Jeonghan said, letting out a bark of laughter as he pulls Seokmin closer.

“Jeonghannie-hyung is handsome, and smart, and kind, so you’ll be popular,” Seokmin says, as he kisses him deeper, filthier, his hands slotted in the divots of Jeonghan’s hips. Jeonghan makes a shy, embarrassed sound against his lips. “People there won’t know that you’re a dork. Only I will.”

“Are you complaining?” Jeonghan says, half-teasing.

Seokmin looks down at him with dark, dark eyes. “Never.”

And to hell with it, Jeonghan figures, as Seokmin continues his spiel about how he would fend off an army of ninjas to court Jeonghan. He had made his shortcomings clear, and his intentions clearer: he wasn’t giving Seokmin up anytime soon, and Seokmin had agreed to his terms.  Enthusiastically, even. So maybe he didn’t have to feel like he was getting away with something preposterous every time he basked in the warm and intense glow of Seokmin’s attention.

Jeonghan did things fast, or not at all: he was confident he would learn this, too, the way he learned to love in seven days.