Archive of Our Own

Chwe Hansol has been dating Boo Seungkwan for eleven blissful months now. They’re almost at a year, and according to Soonyoung, the year mark is when they can start talking about serious things together, like raising a cat and running a bed and breakfast off the coast together. Hansol doesn’t know why Soonyoung thinks those things specifically scream year-long relationship, but he’s learned not to question him, and he sort of likes the idea of Seungkwan cheerfully greeting travelers in their hypothetical B&B, so he lets him say it anyway. 

Chwe Hansol has been dating Boo Seungkwan for eleven blissful months and he’s definitely in love and he knows Seungkwan loves him, too. Seungkwan is funny and a great listener and is interested in all the things Hansol is interested in, even when Hansol knows he isn’t really, like hyper pop music and superhero movies that are in English. 

And Hansol is not religious, but sometimes when he’s lying in bed at night, Seungkwan’s soft skin and warm body between the sheets next to him, Hansol mentally daps up god for sending Seungkwan to him, sometime a year and a half ago, all in the shape of Chan’s friend from college who was moving back to Seoul and was single and hot and everything else Hansol has ever wanted like, ever. So now they’re here, happy, and sometimes when they’re not together Hansol finds himself moping around and wishing they were, which is something he never saw himself doing when he saw a future with a significant other, but he also never thought he’d meet someone like Seungkwan, so be it. 

However, believe it or not, this story is not about Boo Seungkwan. (A pity.) Not directly about him, anyway. 

Enter: Yoon Jeonghan.

“Hansol!” 

Jeonghan answers the door with a little grin on his face, tiny, pearly whites on display, as if a bunny rabbit was synonymous with APEX predator or something. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Or a wolf in clothing three sizes too big for him, safe for the tee shirt Jeonghan’s wearing, that Hansol, unfortunately, recognizes as Joshua’s. 

“Hey, hyung,” Hansol says, giving him a tight smile, slipping into the apartment when Jeonghan opens the door wider for him, just barely. Hansol has to take a side step to get inside and the sudden close contact does not seem to bother Jeonghan in the slightest. “Seungkwanie around?”

Hansol knows he is around, he wouldn’t show up if he wasn’t. For one, Seungkwan had texted him this morning a simple come over later, I miss you, and Hansol even made sure to check his Find My Friends right before he entered Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s building, just to double check he was still here. The little blue bubble representing Seungkwan was present here just a minute ago, so unless he wiggled down their faulty fire escape—

“He’s here,” Jeonghan says, clicking the door shut behind Hansol, gesturing around as if to say make yourself at home. 

Jeonghan does a lot of wordless actions. Like when he puts an Americano on Seungkwan’s dresser for him as if to say here, good luck with that presentation at work or when he raises his eyebrows at Hansol whenever Seungkwan does something particularly attractive as if to say I know what your horny little brain is thinking, watch it. It took Hansol a bit to pick up on stuff like that. Most times, Seungkwan still has to translate for him, or on the off chance, Joshua will, but that’s only when Joshua is feeling generous because normally, he likes watching Hansol flounder and he also likes giving Jeonghan power, which is a really bad combination. 

“He’s just finishing up in the shower,” Jeonghan informs him, not bothering to wait for Hansol to kick off his shoes as he shuffles through the apartment like the ghost of a little medieval boy, the bunny slippers on his feet gliding across the floor. “Want anything? Water? Snack? Beer?”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Hansol says, picking up his speed as he finally gets his sneakers off—god, why do they have so many laces—joining Jeonghan in the living room, where the latter takes his usual seat on the couch. 

He’s watching that Japanese show he’s obsessed with, the one that Hansol can never remember the name of but Seungkwan indulges in because the lead is hot. There’s a tiny crocheted blanket, courtesy of Kim Mingyu, that he drapes over himself, and when he says nothing else, wordlessly leaning forward to press play on the TV, Hansol just joins him, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, doing his best to slow his breathing because he’s pretty sure Jeonghan can smell fear or something.

He pulls out his phone, quickly sending off two messages; one goes to Seungkwan, a suave, not at all creepy I’m in your living room, and the other to Joshua, which is just the SOS emoji, followed by the smiling devil emoji, and then a distressed looking face that he spends a painstakingly long amount of time picking out. 

Joshua’s reply is almost immediate.

josh hyung: Grow a pair, Chwe Hansol 

So much for moral support. 

“How’s your day going?” Jeonghan asks, which surprises Hansol because usually when his shows are on he does not like to be bothered. Honestly, Hansol would have rather just sat in silence, but this is good, too. 

“It’s fine,” Hansol says with a shrug. “Saturdays are my days to sleep in usually, but Shua hyung did wake me up by blasting a Maroon 5 mix this morning so that wasn’t fun.”

Jeonghan laughs, a fleeting thing that makes Hansol feel victorious. Then, “I don’t know who that is.”

“American band,” Hansol explains and Jeonghan just huffs. 

The thing is, Hansol is not afraid of Yoon Jeonghan. From what Seungkwan and Seokmin have told him, and from what he’s seen in the past two years or so with their newly blended friend group, Jeonghan is very kind. He’s a little conniving, a little overly cheeky sometimes, sure, but he seems like a good friend. Seungkwan likes him at least, which Hansol is sure is all that matters. 

But Jeonghan is scary. Not in a Halloween slasher villain sort of a way. Not even in a crotchety, old, college professor sort of way. More like an overprotective, omnipresent big brother sort of way, or maybe a mother, if someone’s mother had a Sylvanian Family collection on their bedside table next to a wooden hammer that Jeonghan sometimes carries “just in case.” He’s intimidating and for some reason that Hansol can’t compute, seems like he doesn’t like Hansol all that much, even though it’s been eleven months, and Jeonghan has never explicitly said that he does dislike Hansol nor has Hansol done anything for him to dislike, but still—the thought looms. 

Jeonghan is standoffish. A bit cold. Short with his conversation and always sort of looks at Hansol like he’s really trying to understand him, but can’t. But then he’s warm when he smiles—a real smile, not the kind he uses to cover up a lie he throws out at Seungcheol—always asks Hansol if he wants anything, asks him how he’s doing and one time even made him take an umbrella when Hansol was leaving their apartment and it was raining. 

But it’s sort of like, almost worse than your boyfriend’s parents not liking you; his best friend doesn't like you— oh, the horror. Hansol honestly thinks he’d do better if he was stuck on this couch with Seungkwan’s mother rather than Yoon Jeonghan, but he digresses. 

For now at least. 

Seungkwan appears then, all like the captivating angel he is, singing a song that Hansol only recognizes from that Girls’ Generation stage compilation Seungkwan once made him watch, which in turn makes Jeonghan pause the TV, the handsome lead Seungkwan likes caught in an unfortunate shot. He comes around the couch with a tug to Hansol’s earlobe first, because he does that for some reason, and for some reason, Hansol really likes it. 

“Hey, you,” Seungkwan greets him, flopping into the loveseat to the left of Hansol. 

Hansol wishes he’d sit in his lap or at the very least in the middle seat between him and Jeonghan, but he won’t be a baby about it. Hansol has it on good authority (read: Joshua Hong) that Jeonghan is making the little trek over to his place (“swapping roommates, how cute,” Seungkwan always coos), to spend the evening with Joshua in a much less dignified way than Seungkwan and Hansol will. Whatever. He would very much not like to know the interpersonal workings of his roommate and his boyfriend’s roommate’s friends-with-benefits agreement, but the bottom line is, that he and Seungkwan now have all night. 

“What’s up?” Hansol asks, going for smooth, even though he doesn’t have to, not towards Seungkwan, anyway. 

Seungkwan shoots him a smile and then shakes his hair out a little, tips of his bangs wet from the aforementioned shower. Hansol can smell his body wash from here; clean and sweet, but not overly so. He wants to eat him. 

“Hyung,” Seungkwan says, eyes sort of scheming, and Jeonghan looks up from where he was typing away on his phone, gives one of his all-star smoker lung coughs, and smiles. 

“Kwan-ah,” he returns, sing-song. 

“What time are you heading out?” Seungkwan asks. He sinks a little deeper into the couch, a little further into the fabric of his sweatshirt, and Hansol thinks he is so, so cute. 

“Whenever I feel like it,” Jeonghan says, just to be a pain in the ass probably, and then he presses play on the TV again. “Don’t banish me so you two can fornicate all over the place.”

“Don’t use the word fornicate,” is all Seungkwan says, although Hansol would like to argue they are not going to do that anyway. At least not all over the place. Seungkwan seems to care less about that detail, however. His eyes light up, now trained on the screen. “Oh! Did they cut his hair?”

“No, they just styled it weird,” Jeonghan says passively. Hansol thinks he looks the same as he did last time he happened to be here when Jeonghan was watching. “And I will use whatever word I want. Thank you, though.” 

Seungkwan hums, still distracted. Hansol squints at the guy on the screen and contemplates what he has that Hansol does not. 

“Anyway,” Seungkwan says and then looks away, catching Hansol staring at him and grins, knowing and a little wicked. He winks. Oh, the flirt that he is. “I was only asking to see if you wanted dinner. Me and Hansolie will probably order something. Not because I’m gonna have sex in your bed.” 

“I never specified my bed,” Jeonghan says, disgusted, “so now I will be locking my room before I leave.”

“You gave me the idea.”

“Heathen,” Jeonghan admonishes, and then he stands, rolling out his shoulders and somehow popping every bone in his body as he does. “I’m good, though. I have to stop by Seokminie and Myungho’s first, so I’ll make them feed me. Myungho can never resist. He thinks I’m like a wounded baby bird.”

Seungkwan laughs. “And you’re happy to admit that?” 

Jeonghan wraps himself in the Kim Mingyu original, over his head like he’s ET or something. He shrugs. “I am about ninety percent sure Myungho treats your boyfriend the same way,” he says, jerking his blanket-covered head in Hansol’s direction, taking him by surprise. 

Hansol freezes like a deer caught in headlights or like a deer caught in Yoon Jeonghan’s line of fire. His palms are suddenly sweaty and he feels like he has to answer immediately, needs to think of something quick to shoot back, something funny and smart, but he comes up fruitless. 

It’s an unfortunate fact; Hansol cannot be trusted in a kitchen and there was a period in university when he survived by chips and instant ramen alone before he met Minghao and the latter started making double his own food to give to Hansol. 

“Hey,” he interjects weakly, but he’s not sure how he’s supposed to argue that, and oh, god, why does Jeonghan make him so nervous? “I do not—”

“Hansolie gets a pass for being cute,” Seungkwan says easily, waving his hand at Jeonghan as if to subtly say knock it off. 

Jeonghan just hums, waving his hand back, just as vaguely, and then he glides out of the room again, down the hall and then it’s just Hansol and Seungkwan and the hot lead still on the TV. Hansol lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, slumping down onto the couch as if he’s experiencing some solace for the first time since he walked in and was met with Jeonghan.

“You good?” Seungkwan asks through a small smile, confused, like he thinks he should know what’s going on but can’t quite place it. Why would he be able to place it, anyway? Why would Hansol rationally be afraid of his roommate, anyway? 

“I’m good,” Hansol says, wiping his sweaty palms on the material of his jeans. He’s not sure how believable he sounds, but Seungkwan just smiles again, coming over to Hansol’s couch, plopping himself into the space next to him. His knees knock against Hansol’s thigh and he’s so warm, makes Hansol feel instantly at ease, Yoon Jeonghan and his mildly threatening energy already forgotten. “Always good when I’m with you.”

“So corny,” Seungkwan huffs, fighting back a smile, reaching out to pinch at one of Hansol’s cheeks. He’s much closer all of a sudden, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then his voice is lower, and Hansol very much likes where this is going. “You look good.”

“So do you,” Hansol returns, not even having to think about it, because Seungkwan always looks good. Especially so when he’s all pretty and clean, cozy in a big sweatshirt and tiny pair of shorts, the smooth skin of his legs out for Hansol to feast his eyes on. “You’re so cute.”

“Oh, yeah?” Seungkwan raises a brow and then leans in to kiss Hansol again, this time on his lips, but not nearly as long or as hungry as Hansol would have liked. “Smooth talker. You just want to get in my pants.”

“Is it working?” 

“Obviously.” Seungkwan laughs a little, presses another kiss to Hansol’s lips, just a little more strength than last time, and Hansol chases him when they pull apart, practically aching for it. Seungkwan laughs again, only this time at the expense of Hansol. His voice is all airy as he continues, “Been thinking about you all day.” 

Hansol’s palms get sweaty again, but this time in the good way, the Seungkwan way, and his heartbeat speeds up, kicking through his chest like a drum. “Oh, really?” he says stupidly. 

“Uh huh,” Seungkwan nods, and now he’s just looking at Hansol’s lips, and heat picks up in Hansol’s stomach and he feels all—jittery. Giddy. Seungkwan has no idea of the power he holds over Hansol. Or maybe he does and that's why he’s acting like this. “I really want you to—”

“I’m leaving!” 

Jeonghan has suddenly materialized out of nowhere, looking marginally more awake than he previously had, and still clad in his oversized sweats, but this time with a pair of sneakers rather than his slippers. He’s standing at the edge of the rug, careful not to step any further with his shoes. Hansol knows they both hate that. 

He’s just—staring like he’s trying to send them another silent message, or like he’s trying to explode Hansol with his brain power alone. Or maybe that’s just his paranoia kicking in. 

Seungkwan puts the smallest amount of space between him and Hansol, concealing a sigh as he looks over at Jeonghan. There’s still one of Seungkwan’s hands on Hansol’s thigh and he tries to pointedly ignore it. 

“See you, hyung,” Seungkwan says, giving him a small smile. “Tell Shua I said hi.”

“I won't,” Jeonghan says, as expected, and then he turns to Hansol, and Hansol thinks he must look ridiculous and also terrified. “Hansol-ah, please return my roommate to me in one piece.”

Hansol laughs, nodding. “Will do.” Jeonghan isn’t particularly laughing but Hansol is about ninety percent positive that it was a joke, so he jokes back. “Hope you can do the same.”

Jeonghan just continues to stare. “No promises,” he finally says and then he’s gone again, and this time for good, the closing click of the door reaching Hansol and Seungkwan on the couch, and Hansol barely has any time to even exit fight or flight mode when Seungkwan mumbles a finally and then barges (welcomed, really) into his space again, kissing him once more, this time nice and slow, all his intentions for how he’d like tonight to go laid up in it. 

“He was being a pain in the ass today,” Seungkwan says, huffy, a warm, firm hand coming to rest on his neck, massaging gently at the muscles there. Seungkwan is very touchy by nature, something that Hansol had originally thought he hated, but has since grown to like very much, or at least, only when it’s Seungkwan. 

“Oh, he wasn’t—” Hansol stammers. He wasn’t a pain in the ass, just a normal amount of subtly unnerving, Hansol wants to say, but he hasn’t quite yet figured out how to bring that up to Seungkwan without offending him or something, so he just shrugs. “He was normal.”

“And for him, normal is annoying,” Seungkwan concludes. He stands then, reaching for Hansol’s hands to yank him off the couch. “Anyway. Wanna put it in? I missed you, seriously.”

“What a way with words, Boo,” Hansol jokes, letting Seungkwan tug him away from the living room, down the hall. Hansol allows himself to shamelessly check out Seungkwan’s ass because he deserves it. “You’re so chivalrous and charming.”

“I try,” Seungkwan says, voice completely serious. “Besides, you love me, anyway.”

That’s the thing. Hansol really, really does. 

* * * 

It’s funny the way it happened. Because Hansol has been dating Seungkwan for eleven months and has known him for a little over a year, but he met Jeonghan first; almost two years ago now, giving him a whole year on how long he’s known Seungkwan.

Jeonghan, who was friends with Seokmin, who was dating Minghao, who Hansol knows through Junhui, who he knows through Soonyoung. Hansol met him at Chan’s birthday party. He was introduced quickly, hyung, this is Jeonghan, he’s my friend from college and he thinks he raised me, followed by an I did, and then they exchanged greetings over the music of the club, and that was about it. 

Hansol saw him periodically after that, still keeping the hello’s polite and the conversation short, making Yoon Jeonghan a secondary character in the grand scheme of Hansol’s life. Even when he was regularly stopping by to sleep with Joshua after they had hit it off last Halloween, Hansol only saw him in bits and pieces, in blurry movements in the hallway from the bathroom to Joshua's room, and when he was feeling chatty, in the kitchen in the morning, over coffee purchased by Joshua, where Joshua carried most of the conversation, and Jeonghan and Hansol almost only chimed in to make fun of him. 

So it’s not like Hansol is so new to Jeonghan. They’ve been in each other’s lives, to some degree, for some time now. Orbiting each other, floating around in the same friend group for an extended period. And yet, Hansol still doesn’t quite understand him. Or vice versa. 

And it’s not like Hansol has to be liked by everyone. He’s not Mingyu or Seungcheol, two people he knows who would rather die a painful, torturous death than leave a bad impression on someone and not immediately be their favorite person. He’s a realist, understands that some people just don’t mix, and that’s fine because that’s life and you can’t control something as big as that. But it’s also been nearly a year and it’s starting to grind his gears. Like, really. 

“Which looks less stupid?” 

Seokmin is holding up two ties, which are nearly identical in Hansol’s opinion, but he’s not going to say anything about that. He points to the one on the left, which might be a slightly darker shade of blue. Wonwoo, of course, points to the one on the right. And then there’s Mingyu, always the first one to poke fun at Seokmin, who laughs at him. 

“They look the same,” he says and Seokmin lowers them, frowning.

“They do not.”

“But you do acknowledge that they both look stupid,” he goes on to add, and unfortunately, Seokmin cannot argue with that. He groans, a little too dramatically for a public place, and carefully puts the ties back, because even when irritated he is still polite, especially so to retail workers. 

“Can you have some more compassion?” Seokmin asks, somewhat exasperated. He puts his hands on his hips and looks at the three of them like he’s trying to assert some authority, right here in the middle of the department store. Wonwoo doesn’t even look up from his phone. “This is an emergency.”

“Is it, though?” Wonwoo asks, still typing away at his KakaoTalk, most likely responding to the dozen messages Soonyoung has sent him in the past four minutes. He huffs when he finally looks up again like he’s winded. Hansol can see he has only sent two messages in response and stifles a laugh. “You’ve met Myungho’s parents before.”

“Yeah, sure,” Seokmin says, seemingly giving up on ties and heading towards the collared shirts, the kind that are fitted and prim, like Hansol’s dad used to wear for business, the kind that very much do not suit Seokmin. “But that was like—a whole three years ago now. We were hardly dating then. Things weren’t that serious. I was less petrified of things like accidentally saying something offensive or—having super sweaty palms when I go to shake his dad’s hand.”

“I don’t think you can accidentally offend someone in a language you have learned only conversationally through your boyfriend,” Hansol notes, thinking out loud. Sometimes Seungkwan uses English with him to be funny, sometimes he only uses it when he swears which Hansol finds cuter than he should, but he doesn’t think Seokmin is capable of cursing Minghao’s entire bloodline so long as he sticks to what he’s been taught.

“Jun hyung has been teaching me stuff, too, though,” Seokmin says, downtrodden. “Which in hindsight, was probably a bad idea.”

At that, Wonwoo cackles, loud, and Seokmin looks less than enthused. 

“You’re gonna be fine, Seok-ah,” Mingyu assures him. He reaches out to throw an arm over his shoulder and squeezes, big muscles being used for their full effect, which Hansol is sure he’s only working out at this point for bone-crushing hugs. “But for the record, your sweaty palms are unavoidable. Also, you do have a weak handshake, so maybe we can work on that instead.” 

“Hey!”

“People love you, Seokmin-ah,” Wonwoo tells him before Seokmin and Mingyu can break out into yet another argument, and he doesn’t sound too convincing, but Hansol knows that Wonwoo is sincere. “Besides, Myungho loves you, so that should be all that matters, right?”

Seokmin hums, hanging his shoulders down as he gives up on his clothing search for now, heading in the direction of the exit. Hansol hopes they’re finally going to that cafe that has the really good Bingsu. That was the only reason he came on this shopping excursion, anyway. Unfortunately, all it ever really takes to get him out of the house is the promise of food. 

“I guess you’re right,” Seokmin settles, sounding a little more sure of himself. “It’s just so scary. Like, the idea of someone Myungho loves not loving me? That’s—oh, man. Oh, no. I think I might be sick.”

“Can you at least wait until we’re outside again if you’re going to throw up?”

“They already do love you!” Mingyu says, giving him another squeeze, which should be more impossible given the fact that they are dodging other shoppers, but he somehow makes it work. “Plus, you’re not the only one who’s ever gone through this, it happens all the time. Wonu, tell him.”

Wonwoo’s eyes get all big and he points at himself as if there’s any other Wonwoo here that Mingyu would be referring to. Mingyu rolls his eyes, gives him a look like yes, hurry up, dipshit, and then Wonwoo shrugs.

“I mean, yeah, it was kinda frightening meeting Soonyoungie’s parents for the first time?” 

Mingyu shoots him another look and Hansol stifles another laugh. 

“What?” Wonwoo groans. “I was like, sixteen when I met his parents, of course it was scary! And also way different than this circumstance.”

“High school sweethearts, we get it, we get it,” Mingyu says dismissively. “Hansolie?” 

“Uh,” Hansol stalls, thinking about it. He hasn’t met Seungkwan’s parents yet, just his sisters a few times. Jeju is a trek, or so Seungkwan always says, and he’d rather take Hansol when they have more time and get to enjoy it, rather than just a quick pop-over for some formalities. “Well. I can understand the fear of not being loved by someone who the person you love loves.”

Seokmin furrows his brows. “That was a lot of use of the word love.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu agrees. “And I am almost positive Seunkwanie’s sisters are in love with you. What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t trying to get you to lie to him, just give him some words of advice!”

Seokmin looks at Mingyu warily. “Who asked you to do any of that, by the way?” 

“What am I if not your best friend?” Mingyu tilts his head, going for some sympathy or something maybe, but instead landing somewhere among overgrown puppy, as usual. 

“I’m not talking about his sisters,” Hansol says before Seokmin can launch into something about how Wonwoo is his best friend, and then Wonwoo will launch into how Jihoon is his best friend, and then it’ll just be a never-ending cycle. 

“So what the hell are you talking about?” Wonwoo presses, raising his eyebrows at Hansol, curious. 

“Uh,” Hansol starts again. Then, stupidly, “You guys know Jeonghan?”

It’s busy around them, crowds making their way in and out of stores, children laughing, people chatting, but among the four of them, it’s dead silent. Mingyu freezes in front of the automatic doors to leave and only breaks the pose when an old woman walks in the other direction and thanks him for being such a gentleman and letting her go first. He bows and smiles because he’s a kiss ass and then they all seem to snap out of it. 

“Did you just ask if we know Jeonghanie hyung?” Seokmin looks disjointed. “Like Yoon Jeonghan? I have known him since I was like—twenty, Hansol-ah.”

“Right.” Idiot, Hansol, absolute stupid idiot. “I just mean—”

“Oh, no,” Mingyu says slowly, shaking his head in what Hansol can only pinpoint as disappointment. Sometimes Mingyu feels more like his dad than his friend. “What did you do?”

“What?” Hansol is insulted. Why would Mingyu even assume he did anything? “I did nothing.”

“But you think you might’ve,” Mingyu points out. “You think you did something and you don’t know what, but you do know that Jeonghan hyung doesn’t like you. Or so the little voice in your head is telling you so.”

Unfortunately, Mingyu is, as usual (which is also unfortunate because no one ever likes admitting Mingyu is on the nose about something) right. He has a knack for these sorts of things; figuring people out, mostly his friends, reading them like a book, and then telling it how it is before he goes into total hyung mode and tries to fix it. At least that’s what he also does for Hansol, their years of friendship have taught him that, but if you were to ask Seungcheol or something, he’d just say Mingyu is nosy. Which is also partially valid. In any case—

“It’s not that I think I did anything—”

“But?”

“But,” Hansol continues reluctantly, “he just… seems a little. Cold.”

“Cold,” Wonwoo repeats.

“One time,” Seokmin begins, “he told me he had cold blood inside his body.”

“Alright?” Hansol responds, just at the same time Wonwoo points out, “That’s not scientifically possible.”

“Jeonghan is just like that,” Mingyu says. “You really think he doesn’t like you?”

“Yes,” Hansol says, and he’s never admitted this to anyone, only Joshua, who laughed at him and told him Jeonghan was about as scary as a mouse, so it feels good getting it out now. Even if he does sound a bit absurd. “And he is not just like that. He’s nice to you guys. Calls Jun hyung his baby and is about four seconds away from swaddling Chanie in a hand-knit blanket the next time we go out and tucking him into bed. He is a warm person! Warm to everyone but me!”

“That’s…” Seokmin starts and then trails off, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as if he’s thinking. They’re outside now, sun beating down on them, which Hansol will blame for the way Seokmin then slowly slips his sunglasses on and not because he just wants to avoid eye contact. “There’s no way he hates you,” he finally says, but the silent damage has already been done. Hansol saw it all from the look on Seokmin’s face because he’s never been good at hiding anything. “He has no reason to.”

“But he doesn’t like me.”

“Why say that, though?” Wonwoo asks. He’s squinting in the sunlight, stuck with his regular framed glasses instead, which Hansol appreciates. No hiding over there, not like he’d ever really expect Wonwoo to. “Haven’t you known Jeonghanie for longer, anyway? Has he always been like that?”

“Yes, actually, I have,” Hansol confirms, laughing because that factor is very silly to him. “I don’t think I ever noticed if he treated me weird because we never really had to interact, safe for hello at a party and when he’d come over to bone Josh.”

Mingyu hums. “And now you’re actually talking with him and you think he’s giving you the cold shoulder.” 

“Bingo.”

They stop at a crosswalk, silently all in agreement that Wonwoo would be the one to lead them to the cafe, as he’s the only one with the directions pulled up on his phone, which he keeps switching from between more messages Soonyoung is sending him. 

“Well, maybe it’s just awkward because it’s like you’re meeting all over again,” Mingyu offers, practical. “Like you knew him before, but now you know him in a new context, and it’s strange.”

“The context hardly changed, though,” Hansol argues. The little traffic light tells them they can walk and they all start again, Wonwoo in the lead. “And it’s been eleven months!”

“Hyung is like that, though,” Seokmin says, slipping his sunglasses down his nose to peek at Hansol. “I’ve known him for a while so take it from me. He can be—fickle and a pain in the ass, but I don’t think he hates anyone. Jeonghanie is much milder than he appears. Or would like to appear. He probably just—has his guard up. Y’know?”

It makes sense. Seokmin has known Jeonghan the longest and it really probably isn’t anything personal. Jeonghan is one of the quieter members of their group, especially with new people. It took them at least six months before Jeonghan even spoke to Joshua, and now he’s over at least twice a week, and according to Joshua who shares way more than Hansol would like to know, is very strangely chatty in bed. 

So it’s probably just that. Hansol is still new despite not really being new and Jeonghan is still shy. Hansol gets it, he can be quiet, too. And has been told on multiple occasions by Joshua that he’s also awkward, which Hansol thinks is amusing solely because half the time, Joshua is the awkward one. He digresses. 

“Yeah,” Hansol says with a little sigh, as if he’s giving up, at least for now, nerves soothed by Lee Seokmin of all people. “I guess that makes sense. Thanks, guys.”

“You’re good, Chwe Hansol,” Mingyu tells him, reaching out for a little patronizing pat on his head. See? Total hyung mode. “Don’t stress.”

“But if you do,” Wonwoo adds, “just try talking to Seungkwanie. You’re dating a reasonable man. Even if his roommate is less than reasonable.”

Hansol hums. It is also possible he’s the unreasonable one. 

* * *

Before he started dating Seungkwan, Hansol honestly couldn’t care less about Thursdays. In fact, he didn’t care much about any days of the week, safe for the weekend of course, and if he’s being honest, he fucking hates Tuesdays, but that’s sort of beside the point. Days used to just be days, especially work days, and he got through them, and that was that.

Now, Thursday is very high up on Hansol’s favorite day of the week ranking. It might even top Friday, which is always hard to beat when asking anyone about the days of the week, but Hansol stands by it. 

Thursdays are when Hansol works from home and Seungkwan starts late, which means on Wednesday nights they can fuck around, literally or figuratively, and then Thursday morning, do it all again until Seungkwan’s phone buzzes with his reminder to get his ass up and off to work, literally or figuratively. 

Today, much to Hansol’s delight, they have chosen literally. 

“Fuck.” Seungkwan’s voice is hushed. He has no idea if Jeonghan ever came home last night, but Hansol honestly thinks the low volume of his voice is doing something for him, anyway. Tiny, quiet whines slipping from his lips every time he moves his hips, riding Hansol with what he can only describe as absolute skill and also probably a direct gift from god. 

“Seungkwan,” Hansol tries to conceal a moan, “I’m close. Like—oh, my god. Close. Seungkwan—“

Seungkwan shushes him with a sloppy kiss to his lips, bending his body in half to do so, and wow, the new angle is also really something else. Hansol thinks he might start seeing stars. 

“Wait just a little longer, Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan mumbles against his lips, and Hansol has no idea how he’s supposed to do that when Seungkwan sounds like that and feels like this, but he does his best anyway because he is a very good listener. If only to Seungkwan in these situations, specifically. 

“God,” Seungkwan goes on, leaning up again, pretty hands splayed across Hansol’s chest, “you’re so hot.”

“No, that’s—“

“Fuck!” Seungkwan whisper-yells, perfectly manicured nails digging into Hansol’s pecs, and then his eyes are squeezing shut, hips getting frantic. “I’m gonna come. Ok. You can— oh! You can come, too.”

Hansol does. Like, nearly immediately, but that’s only because Seungkwan gets super tight, and then his whole body freezes up and he lets out the prettiest, little moan Hansol has ever heard, so he cannot be blamed. He is but a man. A weak one, at that. 

Seungkwan collapses onto his chest, allowing Hansol to take him into a slow kiss, one that’s more tongue and languid lips than anything, but Hansol enjoys it all the same. He enjoys all types of kisses with Seungkwan. 

“You’re so dope,” Hansol tells him, which probably isn’t the most eloquent thing he could say right now, but he has just woken up twenty minutes ago and now his whole brain is all—orgasm hazy, so he’s doing his best. 

“Ditto,” is all Seungkwan says, fond, pressing a light kiss to Hansol’s forehead. “Pull out? I gotta get to work.”

Hansol groans, however obliging, because Seungkwan would probably have his head if he ever made him late for work, and Hansol likes his head very much attached to his body, thank you. 

“I hate when you leave.” He still pouts because that’s his god-given right and Seungkwan is so lovely, anyone would pout. 

“Me too,” Seungkwan concurs, sitting up once Hansol has rolled over to the other side of the bed. His hair is a mess and his skin is still flushed pink. Hansol would love nothing more than round two right now, just pull him back down and smother his whole body with kisses, but he knows that’s not on the table. “Let’s both quit our jobs and run away. Go live on a nudist beach.” 

“I like the idea of you nude, so I’m in.” Hansol hugs the pillow from Seungkwan’s side of the bed closer to him, eyes blinking slowly, sleepily. He’s definitely napping while Seungkwan showers, he just decided. “Although, I do not like the idea of other people looking at you like that.”

“Didn’t peg you for the jealous, protective type,” Seungkwan says, amused. He stretches his arms over his head, lithe wrists twisting out towards the ceiling, one of the bones popping there. Hansol is amazed. 

“I’m not usually,” Hansol admits. “I just really like you naked.”

“Alright, asshole,” Seungkwan says through laughter, reaching over to grab the pillow Hansol’s still cradling and hit him over the head with it, because that’s the kind of loving boyfriend he is. 

It isn’t until later after Seungkwan is showered and gone and already having texted him my core feels like I did a full body workout, please don't let me do that again, that Hansol finally heads out himself, just after stealing one of Seungkwan’s hoodies because he’s got so many, anyway, and Hansol prefers the way his fabric softener smells, strolling into the kitchen to be met with Jeonghan, who’s sitting at the kitchen table, holding a comically large sized cup that has a cartoon fox on it, surrounded by legos. Shit.

“Oh, hi, hyung,” Hansol greets, even giving him a little bow because he’s polite and can get through this. 

This is typically the only downside of Thursdays. (Well, this and Seungkwan leaving for work, but that goes without saying.) Sometimes Hansol times it well enough that Jeonghan is in the shower or back in his room so Hansol can just sneak out without having to see him, but today he faces no such luck. 

“Hi, Hansol-ah,” Jeonghan returns, taking a sip from his cup. Hansol thinks it’s some sort of juice. “Sleep well?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Hansol nods, tucking his hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt. “You?”

“Slept ok,” Jeonghan says. Takes another sip. He sets the cup to the side and then picks up a Lego piece, placing it onto the contraption he’s already working on. Hansol has no idea what he’s making and he’s sort of terrified to ask. Jeonghan gets a quirky little look in his eyes suddenly, and Hansol feels like he can already tell where this is going before he even opens his mouth, and no, it does not have to do with the Legos. “Would have been better. But. Thin walls, Sol-ah.”

Ah, there it is. The horrifying ordeal of dealing with your boyfriend’s roommate commenting that he could hear you two having sex.

Hansol is a big boy, though. Yoon Jeonghan is not scary and he is absolutely positive the most Jeonghan could even hear was just the squeaking of the bed, because Seungkwan has an old, faulty box spring. 

“Now you know how I feel whenever you’re… hanging out with Josh.”

Jeonghan laughs at that, loud and uncharacteristically so. He sets down a few Legos he’d been holding, like he needs to collect himself but still hasn’t responded, so Hansol is just—standing there. He laughs, too, though only barely. 

“You’re funny,” Jeonghan eventually says, like he can’t really believe it, or like he’s irked to admit it. He sets another piece in place and then takes a sip of his drink again. “That’s funny.” 

“Thanks,” Hansol says, although he’s sure that part doesn’t warrant a response. Then, in a moment of curiosity and an attempt to make conversation, “What are you, uh, working on?”

“Oh.” Jeonghan looks surprised. Like he didn’t think Hansol would ask. As if he’s not a grown man indulging in Legos at nine in the morning. “It’s a… thing.”

“Nice.” Hansol snorts out a laugh. “Really painted a picture.”

“Don’t you have to get to work?”

“Don’t you?” 

This is probably the most Hansol has ever convened with Jeonghan, maybe ever, but definitely in the morning. He’s not necessarily sure if it’s a good thing or not. He’s trying. Taking his friends' advice from the other day and hoping they were right. 

“Nope. I’m working an overnight later,” Jeonghan says primly. Hansol forgets his schedule is all over the place. He’s a nurse—or some sort of medical professional at least—which is both admirable and also mildly troubling, considering Hansol has seen Jeonghan give Seokmin a rash on his arm just by twisting it a specific way that time Seokmin accused Jeonghan of cheating during game night. “So I am enjoying some leisure time until then. Or at least, trying.”

Trying. Oh. That’s probably a dig at Hansol, because Hansol is here, bothering Jeonghan with stupid questions about his Legos and accusing him of fucking his friend too loudly. Oh, good. Hansol feels his mouth go dry, tense, and he straightens up. Just when he thought they were making progress, too. 

“Right, wow.” Hansol starts heading towards the door, inching around the table at a respectful distance. Like Hansol is trapped in an enclosure with some sort of carnivorous beast and is trying to stay as far away as possible. “I’ll just be heading out then. I hope, uh—you have a great shift, hyung.”

“It will be average, most likely,” Jeonghan says, and the only indication that he doesn’t mean it as harshly as it comes out is the tiny quirk of his lips on one side, the faintest beginnings of a smile. Or at the very least, a smirk. Then he adds, “Have a wonderful day, Chwe Hansol.” 

“Thank you,” Hansol says, now just entirely unsure if that was genuine, or if Jeonghan was being sarcastic and simultaneously trying to put a hex on the rest of his week. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”

“Yup,” Jeonghan confirms, going back to his Legos, adding another piece to whatever the structure is, “I guess you will.”

The unspoken, implied unfortunately does not go unnoticed by Hansol. 

* * *

The next time Hansol sees Jeonghan, he is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with a beer in his hand at the bar by Seungcheol’s apartment. 

They’re all here, so Hansol was able to avoid any severely awkward conversation, simply giving his usual, courteous wave and smile, which Jeonghan returned dutifully before he attached himself to Jihoon like a backpack in an annoying display of affection. 

There’s enough of them that Hansol feels comfortable, letting his anxiety over whether or not Yoon Jeonghan wants him dead or not take a backseat tonight. Instead, he focuses on the outlandish story Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sharing about the latest, petty woe of their relationship, because despite being together for nearly ten years, they seem to have a lot of silly disagreements, most of the time involving Soonyoung being unreasonable and Wonwoo being emotionally unavailable. Still, they’re together and happy, which Junhui likes to say is mainly because of him, because he treats these stories on Saturday nights at the bar like this is couples counseling and he is their therapist. 

“And then—!” They’re getting to the part in Soonyoung’s tale where he finally reaches the conflict even though he’s been talking for five whole minutes now, because Soonyoung is nothing if not dramatic, and he loves setting a scene. Half the group has sort of zoned out, breaking off into their side conversations in the meanwhile. “Then, Wonwoo tells me ‘oh, yeah, I told my dad we’d watch Solie.’ Right after I confirm with my sister that we’ll watch her cat. So now—a cat and a dog in our tiny apartment, which is basically a death wish!” 

“Oh, wow,” Junhui marvels. He nods very solemnly. “And how did Wonu react to that when you told him?”

“I am sitting right here and you do not have a psychology degree,” Wonwoo says, short. He frowns at Junhui, who apparently sees no truth in any of that, and simply rolls his eyes. “And for the record, it wasn't even an issue in the end. They got along just fine!” 

“It’s the principle of it, babe,” Soonyoung tells him with a wave of his hand, and he leans closer to Junhui, his voice hushed, but just hardly so, because it’s Soonyoung and he’s sort of incapable of being quiet. “He definitely made up for it, though, if you know what I mean.”

“Yah, Soonyoung!” Wonwoo interjects, which results in a fit of laughter from Junhui and Soonyoung cooing at him, trying to squeeze his cheeks in that way that Wonwoo very much hates. 

“You two are one of life’s biggest mysteries,” Seungkwan says, honestly fondly, but Wonwoo just frowns even harder, personally offended. 

Soonyoung, however, smiles. “Thank you. I’m sorry we can’t all be perfect like you and Hansolie.”

“That’s just because they’re still in the honeymoon phase,” Junhui says, sour. 

“And how would you know?” Hansol huffs. He thinks he could never get mad at Seungkwan, like, ever. It’s what makes arguing with him over why movies are actually objective and not subjective so hard. He just always wants to agree with him, even if he’s wrong. “You haven’t dated anyone like—ever.”

“That is not true,” Junhui argues. He’s laughing again. “I dated that one guy with the perm, for like, a little while.”

“Until he broke up with you because you were, and I quote,” Seungcheol now rejoins the conversation, because there is nothing he likes more than poking fun at an unsuspecting victim, “‘too obsessed with Jihoonie.’”

“I have told you all countless times that I would like to be excluded from this narrative,” Jihoon says, pretending his face does not turn the slightest shade of red. Hansol resists the urge to poke any more fun if only because Jihoon is a little intimidating. “Countless!”

“I am not even obsessed with Jihoonie,” Junhui says, not at all convincing, because everyone knows Junhui has been not so silently pining after Jihoon for years now, but to no avail. Something about complicating their friendship because they are also roommates and have known each other for a disgusting amount of time and blah, blah, blah. “He just had a stick up his ass. He always said Jihoon treated him funny when he came over.”

“But our Jihoon hyung is so welcoming and kind,” Chan says, using that voice that means he’s being a pain in the ass, and Jihoon flips him off. 

“All of you are on thin ice,” Jihoon says. And then he adds, “Except maybe Seokminie, just because he bought me a drink.”

Seokmin beams. “I love you, hyung.”

“I think Junie’s ex was just being a little bitch,” Jeonghan chimes in, and oh, lovely, just who Hansol wanted to weigh in on this topic. His life is a comedy. “I mean—thinking your boyfriend’s roommate is treating you funny? That’s just a useless persecution complex.” 

Hansol feels all—weirdly skittish and nauseous all of a sudden. Like, Jeonghan is talking directly to him, or more accurately, indirectly. Mingyu shoots him a look from where he’s hooked his chin over Joshua’s shoulder, making his eyes all big. Hansol does not need him to point out the obvious. He already knows he is ridiculous for being in the same situation, thank you very much.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Joshua concurs solely because he is a son of a bitch and very much already aware of Hansol’s situation, and Mingyu laughs over his shoulder, traitorous. “That just seems silly.”

Hansol squints at Joshua, mentally trying to tell him he’s positively evil, or like, pants him. Neither of those things happens, though, and instead, Seungkwan speaks up because Hansol’s life just keeps getting better. 

“True,” he says, and no, actually, it just keeps getting worse. “I mean, imagine if Hansolie was always—irregular and cagey just because of Jeonghan hyung? That’d be crazy.” 

“Right,” Hansol says, shifting on his feet, scrambling for his glass of beer that’s all lukewarm and weird tasting now just so doesn’t feel so awkward standing there with his hands in his pockets. Jeonghan is just staring at him, expression unreadable, as always. “Crazy.” 

“Luckily, Hansolie is normal,” Minghao says, absolutely sure of himself, which makes Hansol think Seokmin didn’t brief his boyfriend about his breakdown the other day. Or, Minghao is just a better actor than they all give him credit for. Either is possible, really. “And Jeonghan hyung is—relatively normal.”

Hansol laughs at that, he can’t help it, but he doesn’t even get an indistinct look from Jeonghan like he expects, and Hansol feels odd about it. Maybe Jeonghan knows how Hansol truly feels. Maybe he’s been trying to actually make Hansol feel like this and is now realizing he has a real success rate. Maybe he is just as evil as the negative, oversuspicious thoughts looming in Hansol’s subconscious.  

He’s shy, Hansol tries to remind himself, reinforcing Seokmin’s assurance from the other day, he’s shy, and quiet, and does not hate you, and you are being a neurotic baby. 

Then he remembers Thursday morning, and how short Jeonghan was with him, how he basically told Hansol that he was annoying and that he wanted to be left alone, which is fine, his sister calls him annoying all the time, but—

“Jeonghanie hyung is great,” Hansol forces out, mostly to reduce the demons he’s currently battling, but also because there’s a beat of silence and they’re all just looking between the two of them, maybe for some sort of confirmation, and Seungkwan’s eyes are all wide and hopeful and pretty and Hansol is panicking. “We’re both—great.” 

“Right,” Jeonghan says, the corners of his mouth upturned in one of his usual, tiny smirks, and oh, why does it feel like he’s mocking Hansol? Why can’t he just read him? “Great.” 

“Yeah, well,” Junhui says dismissively, completely unaware of the newfound tension, or maybe that’s only Hansol who’s aware of it. “We can’t all be perfect. Who wants to buy me a drink to make up for you guys making me relive a failed relationship?” 

Mingyu frowns at him. “Hyung, you didn’t even really like that guy.”

“Oh, screw you, Kim Mingyu.” Junhui tsks, popping up from his seat. “I’ll have another beer, thank you.”

Mingyu huffs, however, trudging in the direction of the bar because he’s a good friend, a few of them following to freeload. Jeonghan stays hanging by Joshua, beady little eyes still watching Hansol as he turns around with Seungkwan, separating themselves from where Chan and Soonyoung have just launched into a heated debate on some celebrity gossip a majority of them are unfamiliar with.

“Want anything?” Seungkwan asks, poking at Hansol’s side. Hansol catches his hand, slipping it into his own because he likes being corny like that. Seungkwan turns a distant shade of pink and then continues, “You look a little—flushed.”

“Flushed?” Hansol repeats, a little incredulous, like the idea is silly. He laughs, which comes out all strangled when he was going for casual and cool. “No, I’m good.”

Seungkwan looks like he doesn’t believe him, but smiles nonetheless. “Ok,” he says, a bit cautiously. He looks Hansol up and down, but not in the sexy way, just in the way that he’s—considering Hansol. Inquisitive. Hansol wishes it were the latter. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He squeezes Hansol’s hand, gives him a warm look that Hansol knows well; I love you, you’re good, that’s what it says. Hansol squeezes back. He will be normal about this. 

“I know.” Hansol nods, pulling Seungkwan a little closer. “That’s why you’re the best.” 

“Well, so are you,” Seungkwan returns, winks at him, and it makes Hansol’s heart flutter. “And the best deserves the best back, y’know?”

“I know,” Hansol repeats because he does know.

That’s why Hansol keeps pretending he is totally ok with Yoon Jeonghan and his dreadful indifference towards him. 

* * *

The worst part about all this is that Jeonghan is everywhere.

He’s there when Hansol is over with Seungkwan, sure, that’s a given, but then he’s at dinner with Mingyu and Seungcheol when Hansol is invited, and then he’s at Junhui’s apartment when Hansol goes over to borrow some sugar on behalf of Joshua, and Joshua —Johua fucking Hong, is just as bad as everyone else, or if not, worse, because he invites Jeonghan over at least a few times a week, so Hansol can’t even find relief in the comfort of his own home. It’s like, screw Joshua and his never yielding libido. 

Hansol’s hiding in his room— so what, sue him —waiting for Jeonghan to finally head home. It was one of the rare nights when Hansol was stuck home instead of heading to Seungkwan’s for a classic roommate swap, because Seungkwan had been summoned to help his sister shop for a birthday gift for their mom, which was very serious business, and so Hansol had been left home. 

Which is fine. Hansol saw Jeonghan when he came in, gave him a wave, and then promptly headed outside for as long as he possibly could because there are few things in this life worse than being subjected to—whatever Jeonghan and Joshua do behind closed doors. When he came back, the apartment was unmoving, silent, safe for the distant running of the shower, so Hansol had felt it was safe enough to scurry back to his room and strap on the noise-canceling headphones, just in case. 

And now he’s here.

When he takes off his headphones he can hear the shower stopped and there’s a low mumbling in the hallway, which Hansol assumes are goodbyes, but Jeonghan has also apparently given Joshua critiques when they’ve finished in the bedroom, so he may be gracing him with another scorecard right now instead. 

(Hansol has no idea how Joshua does it; he either has some sort of kink for it or he is weirder than Hansol gives him credit for.)

He hears the door open, some more mumbling, and then it clicks shut, and Hansol lets out the breath he had been holding. Always such a rush. It’s a little after midnight and Hansol is starving. He thinks there are some cupcakes Mingyu left here still in the kitchen and he plans on finishing all of them. 

When Hansol finally braves the outside again, Joshua is there, standing in front of the fridge with a water bottle, halfway to finishing it already. He’s got the hood of his sweatshirt flicked up over his head but his bangs are hanging in front of his eyes, wet from the shower. He looks tired. Ew.

“Yo,” Hansol greets him, immediately zoning in on the cupcakes, sitting on the counter, and absolutely calling Hansol’s name. Thank you, Kim Mingyu. 

“He’s out of hiding,” Joshua says, same annoying smirk on his lips as always. “You are so brave, Chwe Hansol.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Hansol swears, going icing first on the cupcake because it's been a long night and he deserves it. “I had to be sure you two were finished. I do not need to hear any part of your below-average sex life.”

“First of all, it’s not even below average. I got tens across the board tonight, so watch your mouth. I am taking the constructive criticism and applying it.”

“More than I needed or wanted to know.” Hansol frowns. “You two are bizarre.” 

“You prompted it.” Joshua finishes his water bottle and then crushes the plastic in his hands just because he’s irritating. “And you just hate everything Jeonghanie does. I am sure if Seungkwan came to you with a report card—-” 

“Do not finish that sentence, please,” Hansol nearly begs before he slumps against the counter, shoving the rest of the cupcake into his mouth. He’s still chewing as he goes on to defend himself with, “And I do not hate everything Jeonghan hyung does.”

Joshua eyes him, the same way he does when he knows Seokmin is lying about not starting an argument with Mingyu or when Soonyoung tells him he left his wallet at home and needs Joshua to buy all his drinks at the bar. 

“You’re not a good liar,” Joshua says, mumbling more like, as he rounds the kitchen to take a seat at the table. He flicks his gaze to the other chair as if silently telling Hansol to sit. He does not, because he does not want this to turn into an intervention, and instead grabs another cupcake. “You’re still doing that thing where you think Jeonghanie hates you, huh?” 

“Don’t be a dick,” Hansol warns him with an accusing point of his finger, but Joshua just smiles, the polite and charming smile he does when he like, meets a middle-aged lady at the grocery store. “You know he acts weird around me. You’ve seen it!”

“Actually, I think he acts weird around everybody,” Joshua counters. Hansol thinks there’s a literal bite mark at his collarbones, which only increases his fear of Yoon Jeonghan twofold. “Last week I watched him tell Seungcheolie the color of his shirt was ‘off putting’ and then proceeded to not look at him the rest of the time we hung out. He likes annoying people on purpose.”

“Annoying someone on purpose is different than giving them the cold shoulder every time they come around,” Hansol points out. 

“True,” Joshua says with a shrug. “But Jeonghanie also likes to play favorites. We can’t all be Chan and Junie.”

Hansol scowls. His life would probably be so much easier if he was Junhui. No worries, no Yoon Jeonghan-shaped monsters under the bed, just stray cats following you home from work and getting free stuff wherever you go because you’re super handsome. 

“Who’s side are you on?” Hansol asks, because Joshua has always loved playing devil’s advocate, but right now, it’s starting to really piss him off. 

“The one that’s less stupid,” Joshua says easily. He laughs a little and then he switches to English because he likes to keep Hansol on his toes or something. “And right now, that’s Jeonghan’s, bro.” 

“Well, bro,” that part is in English, but then Hansol doesn’t care enough to keep it up so he doesn’t, “I think you’re just being plain mean. And that Yoon Jeonghan has hypnotized you with his—whatever you guys do when you’re boning—”

“We just have sex like regular people, but go on—”

“—and he’s turned you evil. And soon, you’re gonna start treating me all funky, too, and then I’ll have nobody left.” 

“Let’s not get dramatic,” Joshua says and rolls his eyes. “It just feels like you should deal with this. Before it gets too late.” 

“There is no reason you have to be that ominous.”

“There’s no reason you have to be this stupid.”

“Stop calling me stupid.” If Hansol is pouting, well, that is not Joshua Hong’s business right now. “In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that important. I mean, it hasn’t even been a year yet. Maybe Jeonghan hyung just needs to get used to me.”

“Get used to you?” Joshua laughs. “You’re acting like Jeonghan is a child of divorce and you’re his dad’s new, much younger girlfriend. Or like, you’re a squatter who just won’t go away.”

“I prefer the younger girlfriend analogy rather than a squatter.”

Joshua hums. “No, I think I like the squatter, to be honest.”

“If you’re just going to keep making fun of me—”

Joshua rolls his eyes, huffing out a breath. Like he is so exasperated and Hansol is the entire cause. Which can’t possibly be true. 

“Can you sit down?” He asks, bringing his hands to his head and massaging at his temples. He is nothing if not dramatic, but Hansol does, anyway, if only because he’s actually sort of sick of standing there and also finished all the cupcakes. 

“Ok,” Joshua says once Hansol is seated, directly across from him like this is some kind of fucked up interview. And what do you think you can bring to the table besides manic thoughts and your fear of Yoon Jeonghan, Hansol-ssi? “You wanna know what I think?”

Uh oh.

“No, not really,” Hansol admits. He folds his hands, nervously playing with the dry skin on his thumb that Seungkwan is always scolding him about.

“Great,” Joshua says and continues anyway because that’s just the kind of person he is, “I think you just like Seungkwanie so much that you’re taking out your internal fear on Jeonghan. Because it’s easier to point a finger at someone so big and scary—something that is not true, by the way, because Jeonghan is about as threatening as Toad from Super Mario—rather than yourself.”

Hansol hums, honestly a little peeved because he hates it when Joshua is right. (Even about the Toad thing, because that was a scarily accurate comparison.) That’s the annoying thing about Joshua—besides his need to offer unsolicited advice 24/7—is that his unsolicited advice is usually very useful. Joshua has a stupid talent for reading people, silently, of course, taking little bits and pieces of their personalities and habits and saving them for a rainy day when they need a horrifyingly accurate analysis and then their ass handed to them. Like Hansol is right now. He's like Mingyu and his need to fix everything, if Mingyu was from LA and liked making Hansol miserable.

“That is so—”

“True?” Joshua offers. “Accurate, correct, errorless, perfect. I could keep going, Hansol-ah, just let me know when I got the right word.”

“Please do not,” Hansol appeals. “I already want to hit your stupid face.”

“And that would be a true disservice to the public and all others who come in contact with my face.” Hansol groans, slumping further down into the chair and Joshua takes that as his cue to keep going. “Look, I just think you need to take a step back for a second and see the big picture. It’s no secret this is your most serious relationship. So that’s probably why you’re so aware of everything that you do. And that includes Jeonghanie just wanting to do Legos in peace and you taking it the wrong way.”

Hansol’s ears perk up. The Great Lego Incident (which he dubbed in his head, but really only means last Thursday) was only between Jeonghan and him. In fact, Hansol made it a point not to bring it up to Joshua because he was just going to make fun of him again, and Hansol was certainly not in the mood that day. So how Joshua knows about it now, well, that could only mean—

“Did Jeonghan say something to you?”

Joshua just blinks. He has a vacant stare in his eyes like he’s trying to seem supremely uninterested. Hansol sees right through him. The son of a bitch.  

“No,” Joshua says flatly. “Jeonghanie and I don’t talk. We’re just… fucking. Purely a carnal need going on over there. You've seen the guy. Terrible conversationalist he is. We have nothing in common.”

“Alright, let’s not take it too far now,” Hansol says, crossing his arms over his chest. Sometimes Joshua feels like his real, actual, older brother, and it makes Hansol act very immaturely. He can’t help it, though; Joshua is a dick and is good at pushing his buttons. “You guys are totally braiding hair and exchanging secrets after you finish defiling each other. You pinned his conversation in messages. You let him read your birth chart! Hyung, come on.”

“First of all, I hate every part of that hypothetical scenario. Second of all, I pin people at random. I had your mom’s contact pinned for a little, too. Just like to see who I have in my phone,” Joshua says, which is an absolute lie, but Hansol doesn’t have time to call him out on that, too, right now. “Also, I let him read my chart so Minghao could stop blaming my ‘Taurus moon’ for everything. Which I still don’t understand.”

“That screams romance and connecting on a new level.”

“Do not!” Joshua threatens him, but there’s no real malice in his voice because, at the end of the day, it’s still Joshua. “And like, fine. We occasionally speak. But it’s not all about you, Chwe Hansol. Don’t get a big head, it’d be a terrible look for you.”

“Hyung—”

“Jeonghanie might have mentioned you,” Joshua says finally, not before he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as well, as if to mirror Hansol. He adds, “Once or twice.”

“And you never thought this would be of use to mention to me?”

“No,” Joshua says, airly. “I thought you could be a real, functioning, adult human and deal with it without me having to interrogate the dude I fuck. But—” 

“I was dealing with it!”

“You were spiraling, Hansol-ah,” Joshua tells him regrettably. He straightens up a little then, heaving out a sigh. “What you need to do is talk to Jeonghan, and assure him you don’t hate him. Because honestly? I am very sick of being in the middle of this.”

“The middle of—” Hansol stops. “What are we in the middle of?!” 

Joshua stands then, tugging the hood of his sweatshirt down even further. He’s like a ghost. “I am officially staying out of it. Make your own big-boy decisions, Sol-ah.”

“Hyung!” Hansol calls after him helplessly, watching as Joshua disappears down the hallway, into his room, locking the door behind him. 

Selfishly, Hansol wishes Joshua was not right. 

* * *

Realistically, Hansol knows Joshua is right. If he’s being rational and smart, he knows he does need to talk to Jeonghan, even if that very idea alone doesn’t nearly threaten to put him in a premature grave. 

But Hansol is also very into Seungkwan, knows this definitely is his most serious relationship, and if he wants to be comfortable in it, wants everyone comfortable in it, then he knows he has to face the music and the Yoon Jeonghan and just rip the bandaid off. 

And so, he puts on his bravest face and most comforting sweatshirt and heads to Jeonghan and Seungkwan’s place, two coffees in hand—iced americano for Seungkwan and a regular iced coffee with one pump of vanilla flavoring for Jeonghan—and a mature, practiced confession in his brain. He can do this, or so he at least tries to remind himself as he knocks on their front door, the realization that he didn’t even text Seungkwan if he was around today dawning on him only when—

“Hansol-ah?” 

“Hyung.”

It’s Jeonghan. 

He looks confused. Hansol guesses he should be; normally, Hansol never stops by unannounced and he knows for a fact that Seungkwan alerts Jeonghan of all of Hansol’s drop-ins. So this—well, he should be confused. 

“What are you—” Jeonghan stops. He steps to the side all of a sudden, giving Hansol a lopsided smile as he makes a gesture for him to enter. “Come in.”

“Oh, thanks,” Hansol says, doing the usual, awkward sidestep into the apartment, feeling particularly stupid with the two coffees he’s holding. “Is Seungkwanie… around?”

“No,” Jeonghan says, flat. He clicks the door shut and when he turns around to face Hansol, Hansol comes face to face with a giant, cartoon cookie on Jeonghan’s sweatshirt. Its smile looks corrupt. “Well, I mean, yeah—he’s not here right now. He went for a run. But he should be back soon if you wanna wait for him.”

“Ok, cool,” Hansol says, feeling very inelegant, like he’s an absolute stranger here even though they’ve done this dozens of times. It’s the nerves, most likely. Focus, Hansol. “I, uh, brought you guys coffee.”

“Oh.” Jeonghan looks surprised now. He reaches out for the coffee, sweater paw getting in the way. Distantly, Hansol can hear his Japanese show playing in the living room. “That’s nice of you, Hansolie. Trying to butter me up or something? Are you going to say you wanna move in? Are you asking for my blessing to raise a succulent with Seungkwanie?”

Hansol laughs, louder than he probably wanted, but Jeonghan makes him nervous (something they’ve established) and he always likes to make it known that he finds Jeonghan’s jokes funny.

“Actually,” Hansol says, gently setting Seungkwan’s coffee on the table, right over one of the coasters they have there because Hansol knows how much Seungkwan hates rings left from condensation. “I did come here to sort of talk to you. I guess.”

“You guess,” Jeonghan huffs out a laugh. It’s more like an exhale of laugh, but Hansol has known him long enough to know that he found it mildly amusing. “Lucky me, then. What do you want, Hansol-ah?”

Oh, god. He’s terrifying. The cartoon cookie stares a little more, mocking him. 

“Ok, I’m just gonna come right out and say it—” Rip the bandaid off. Make the big-boy decisions. “I think you hate me.”

Oh, that’s not what he—

“What?” Jeonghan raises a brow, frowning. He sort of looks offended, not like Hansol has even seen him offended because Jeonghan is very good at not letting things bother him, which that Hansol has seen firsthand. He takes a sip of his coffee. “Why would you say that?”

“Ok, I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” Hansol says slowly. “Can I try again? And also sit down? I think I might pass out.”

Jeonghan nods, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table, shoving Hansol into it. 

“Do you need water or something?” He tilts his head before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of gummies. “Maybe you have low blood sugar. You should eat a worm.”

“You just—carry those with you all the time?”

Jeonghan nods, tearing the packet open and taking one of the gummy worms into his mouth. “They’re for emergencies,” he says.

“Wow,” Hansol marvels, and then shakes his head, because he did come here for a reason, and it's dire. “Ok, no. What I meant was that I was sorry if I’ve been acting weird. Because I think I have been. Because I thought you… weren’t a massive fan of me.”

“What?” Jeonghan says again. “Why the hell would you think that? Did I do something?”

“No,” Hansol says quickly. Then, “That’s the… that’s kinda the problem. You just were always a little. You know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Jeonghan says warily. His expression softens. “Is this about the Legos?”

“It’s not not about the Legos.” Hansol shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “You didn’t have to go to Shua hyung of all people for that, by the way.”

“Shua is chronically nosy and wouldn’t let me in his bed until I told him what was bothering me,” Jeonghan says, and Hansol would rather not know all that, but he’s not going to argue with it now. “And it wasn’t anything personal, Thursdays just used to be my allotted Lego time and—wait. This isn’t even just about the Legos.” 

“No, hyung,” Hansol admits sadly, throwing in the towel, waving the white flag, and also reaching out for a gummy worm while he’s at it, “it’s not.”

He chews, takes his time, and really smacks his lips because wow, these seriously are chewy, all while Jeonghan just considers him, eyes flicking him up and down, pensive. Hansol wishes Seungkwan would come home already. Last time he ever comes over without checking his location. He was hoping for a good-luck blowjob before he had to face Jeonghan. Or a kiss at the very least. 

“I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to, especially small talk,” Hansol says, trying to collect all his thoughts so he doesn’t accidentally insult Jeonghan in the process, “but I really, really, really like Seungkwanie, and if you don’t like me, I feel like that fucks up everything. Because Seungkwan is like—obsessed with you. It’d be like if Bookeu didn’t like me.”

“Are you comparing me to his family dog?”

“No,” Hansol says. Then, “Or yes. I don’t know. I’m just—sorry for being off-putting and lousy. I guess all I’m asking is how I can… fix it?” 

Jeonghan is glowering now, a real serious look, with his bottom lip stuck out a little and his eyebrows furrowed. The kind of frown Hansol has seen him do when there’s something he doesn’t like too much on his Japanese show. Like last season's finale. 

“Oh no,” is all he says. He sounds a little torn up, or as torn up as Hansol thinks he could see him, going to take his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s silent after that. More thinking. Hansol has no idea if he should be saying anything else. He thinks he already has made his point, unfortunately; even if the point did have to do with comparing Jeonghan to Seungkwan’s Maltese. 

Finally, he lets out a sigh, tentatively reaching out to pat Hansol on the head. His touch is gentle but unsure. It’s not much different than when someone like Soonyoung finds Hansol cute and patronizes him, but it’s—out of character for Jeonghan so it makes Hansol feel awkward. He speaks. 

“I always do this.”

“Always… pat your roommate’s boyfriends on the head?”

“No.” Jeonghan pulls his hand away, tucking it back into the oversized sleeve of his sweater. “That part was me comforting you.”

“Oh, ok,” Hansol sits up a little. A silent offering of his head for more pats. Jeonghan does not take it. “Sorry.”

“No, I should be sorry,” Jeonghan explains. “Of course I don’t hate you, Hansol-ah. I’ve known you for like, ever now. You laugh at my jokes and share Joshua’s deepest, darkest secrets with me.”

“Is that all it takes to be your friend?”

“Sometimes.” Jeonghan waves a hand, pulling up the other chair at the kitchen table, and sits. They’re a weird distance apart now, but Hansol guesses it’s better than Jeonghan standing there with the possibility of patting his head again, so. “Look, you’re fine to be around, Hansol, seriously. But I’m kinda insufferable—or at least, that’s what Seungcheolie says, but he’s not always right, so take it with a grain of salt.”

“Oh,” Hansol says, “that—”

“See, even that,” Jeonghan interrupts. “I was like, partially kidding.”

“Oh.”

“Partially,” Jeonghan reminds him and then gives him another half smile and Hansol briefly feels like he is talking to some sort of little troll guarding a bridge, who is making Hansol solve a riddle to get past him. “I think I assumed you knew I already liked you. I mean—we’re sort of more similar than you originally might think, you know? I thought you—sort of got me. Maybe?”

Hansol thinks about it. They both value the core joys in life—sleeping and having a little snack, and not only that, but Hansol also thinks they definitely could be considered the most thoughtful of their little group. Keeping track of the people around them and what they like and dislike for later, like how Jeonghan always buys Seungkwan’s favorite nondairy milk from the grocery store because otherwise, Seungkwan will forget, and how Hansol remembers both their coffee orders, like now, because a treat when you’re least expecting it is one of the few joys in your adult life. They’re both quiet, yes, because peace and quiet above all, and then above that, occasionally being a little shit, because sometimes it's fun to piss their friends off. 

They both have a sister. They both grew up in Seoul. They both prefer the convenience store by Jihoon and Junhui’s place rather than the other because the guy that works there always gives them at least one thing for free. Cats like them. Seungkwan likes them.

Seungkwan likes them, which is probably the most important factor of all this, and Hansol, silly, paranoid Hansol, let Yoon Jeonghan’s eccentric hobbies and love of his occasional alone time get in the way of it. Come to think of it, Hansol would get kind of pissy, too, if he had to see himself at all hours of the day in an apartment that did not belong to him. Hansol is notorious for eating everybody’s food and leaving absolutely nothing left. He is working on it. 

“Oh.” 

Hansol. Silly, paranoid Hansol.  

“I didn’t—oh, my god. I was so stupid. Why was I so stupid? You were—hyung, I was so scared of you. Am? Was.”

“I thought you were just holding a grudge because I made a joke about you and Seungkwanie being too, uh, loud last week,” Jeonghan admits shyly. “Because you sort of have been acting extra weird since then. I didn’t know this was a whole—thing. I would've said something if I knew you thought I didn't like you, Hansol.”

“No,” Hansol says with a shake of his head. “That wasn’t—it wasn’t because of that. I thought Thursday was actually you mentally tallying on more reasons to hate me.”

Jeonghan clicks his tongue. “Never hated you, Sol-ah,” he reminds him again. “And also, for the record, you guys fuck eerily quietly. I’ve never even heard anything.”

“Thank you?”

“Sure thing.” 

Jeonghan reaches between them for another gummy worm, chewing slowly. He’s just staring at Hansol again and the cookie is still there on his shirt, mirroring his gaze. It’s less threatening now. 

“Sorry for accusing you of hating me,” Hansol says shamefully, fidgeting with the hem of his tee shirt. “I actually think you’re cool, hyung. I like your jokes and sharing Joshua’s secrets with you, seriously.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jeonghan pats his head again and this time it feels more like actual comfort rather than a robotic, forced motion. “We’re cool, Hansol-ah.”

Hansol guesses they are. That was surprisingly easier than Hansol had anticipated. He didn’t even get to give Jeonghan the monologue about how he admires him and is willing to side with him every trivia night even though he is absolutely always cheating. He’ll save it for a rainy day.

“Hey,” Jeonghan continues, “wanna watch my show with me ‘til Seungkwanie gets back? I can get more worms. Do you like the worms?”

“Sure,” Hansol agrees, standing up much lighter than he had sat down, a weird, Jeonghan-shaped weight lifted from his shoulders. Wow. He really does hate when Joshua is right, like even more than he hates when Mingyu is right, but talking to Jeonghan is seriously all it took. “I like the worms.”

They watch the show, in complete silence, worms abundant, until Seungkwan gets back. He’s pleasantly surprised when Hansol is there, looks beautiful, too, even though he's sweaty, and tells him he’ll be back after a shower, and Hansol doesn’t even fret when Seungkwan leaves again. Just him, Jeonghan, and the protagonist with the weird haircut. 

Hansol pulls out his phone and shoots Joshua a victory text.

hansolie: yo me and jeonghan are actually so tight now. he shared his worms

josh hyung: I don’t like the sound of that, please keep them away from me

josh hyung: But congrats Chwe Hansol, you finally grew a pair

Next to him, Jeonghan scoffs, rolling his eyes. He points at the screen, the apparent hot and sexy lead that Seungkwan likes on screen.

“Honestly?” Jeonghan says, “I loathe this guy.”

Silly, paranoid Hansol. They’ll get along just fine.