Chapter Text
It’s only when they’re all neatly tucked into bed that Seungkwan starts wondering about the oddly convenient timing of this whole situation, and he realizes—“How did you know?”
“After your birthday party, when you told me you were still in love with Hansol,” Soonyoung says with a wicked grin. “We went to go talk to him because we knew you wouldn’t.”
“It was very educational,” Seokmin adds. “He broke really easily.” And fuck, Seungkwan never should’ve trusted Hansol, the coward.
“Don’t blame him too much,” Soonyoung says. “Without him, it probably would’ve taken us significantly longer to figure you out. Also, we threatened him not to tell you we knew.”
Soonyoung has a point, and Seungkwan sets aside his plotting of Hansol’s demise. That information actually puts a few strange things into perspective, and Hansol had tried to warn him in his own subtle and ineffective way. “He said you guys had a belated birthday present for me.”
Seokmin hums, rolling over and snuggling closer, eyes curved cutely as he grins. “Surprise.”
-
Hansol’s a pretty laid-back guy, easy to understand and easier to please. And all he really wants out of this day is a nice date with his boyfriend of six months, an enjoyable coffee break at the library café before they get back to studying.
But apparently today is not going to be that easy, as he hears a bright “Hansol!” and turns his head to spot Seokmin and Soonyoung homing in on him with excessive haste.
“Hansol, hi,” Seokmin says sweetly, his usual sunny smile a little wider than usual. “We need to talk.”
Hansol blinks, but he nods dumbly as Seokmin and Soonyoung drag two chairs to their table.
“So,” Seokmin continues. “We wanted to know if you’ve talked to Seungkwan recently.”
“Um,” he says. “Well, Seungkwan’s my roommate, so—”
“Not like that,” Soonyoung interrupts, impatiently waving a hand. “We meant, if you’ve discussed anything personal recently.”
He has no idea what Seungkwan’s roped him into this time, but it’s quickly starting to become incredibly uncomfortable. “No?”
Seokmin places a hand over Soonyoung’s, like he’s trying to soothe a wild animal. “Nothing about your relationship?”
“Uh.” Hansol looks over at Chan, who is watching him with one eyebrow raised, a silent what the fuck? “No, definitely not. Also, uh. This is my boyfriend, Chan, I don’t know if you’ve met—”
“He’s still in love with you, and if you don’t feel the same way back, we’d be very happy if you'd let him down gently but firmly,” Soonyoung barrels on, snatching his hand away from Seokmin like this is some bizarre parody of good cop, bad cop. “So he can finally move on.”
“Um.” What the fuck has Seungkwan done this time? Hansol can only wonder. He doesn’t dare look at Chan now. “You’re sure he said my name?”
“He specifically said he was in love with his best friend, and he only has a few of those,” Soonyoung says bluntly, looking over at Seokmin’s pained expression and shrugging. “It’s true.”
Hansol sits there awkwardly, unsure what to do with the weird staring contest Seokmin and Soonyoung are having in front of him. “Are you sure he said best friend?”
Soonyoung frowns. “Of course I’m sure. I’m stupid, not deaf.”
“Ah.” Hansol coughs and sneaks another look at Chan, who just seems bemused by this whole debacle. “I mean, are you sure he said best friend, like, singular?” He apologizes to Seungkwan in his head, but that idiot should’ve thought things through before exposing himself like this and forcing Hansol to try and cover for him. Seungkwan knows he caves under pressure really easily. “Or did he say best friends, plural?”
Seokmin and Soonyoung whip their heads around, and now that he has the force of both their stares on him, Hansol would really like to disappear.
“Plural,” Seokmin says, voice oddly high-pitched, like he’s dipping into falsetto.
“He did,” Soonyoung says faintly, and thank god, they turn to focus on each other again.
“Yeah, um, so.” Hansol laughs awkwardly, looking over again at Chan, who still hasn’t moved or said anything this whole time. “Do you mind if I get back to my date. With my boyfriend.”
Seokmin absently raises a hand to ruffle Hansol’s hair, completely ruining the half-hour Hansol spent artfully styling it to look messy. He doesn’t say anything, though, and neither does Soonyoung. Instead, he throws a few bills on the table and then they both leave. They don’t look back.
Chan’s finally moved his head, but it’s mostly to look down and stare at the ten thousand won notes now decorating the center of their table. “What the fuck?”
“So that was Seokmin and Soonyoung,” he says, wondering if it’s even possible to save this date. “They’re usually nice, but—”
“I know them both,” Chan says. “Soonyoung’s my dance captain, we’ve talked about this before.” He shakes his head. “What I mean is—Hansol, what the fuck just happened?”
“The beginning of the end.” Hansol laughs, uncomfortable and hollow. “Also, um. It’s possible Seungkwan will try to murder me the next time he sees me, so can I stay with you for a couple of weeks?”