Chapter Text
The first time Youngjae meets Literal God Im Jaebum occurs approximately four hours after the first time Yugyeom insists they use their brand new fake IDs to get into a rundown, half-empty club on the bad side of town.
Well, the idea is half-Yugyeom, half-Bambam, which means Youngjae is outvoted 2-to-1, and because he's a good hyung(the other two boys only call him hyung when they want something), he agrees to go with them and make sure they all get home alive. And, after all, he would like to make sure that the surprisingly expensive piece of plastic is worth the money, before they go to the 19-and-up festival they bought them for. It's at the end of the month, and Youngjae is pretty sure the tickets cost, like, a quarter of what they spent on the IDs, but that's sort of irrelevant after the fact.
The bouncer at the door isn't at all intimidating, sort of old and grandfatherly, but he hardly glances at Youngjae's ID before waving him in. He probably could have handed him a blank index card and still gotten into the club. Yugyeom and Bambam follow quickly behind him, fist-bumping and then chest-bumping, and Youngjae rolls his eyes, not at all adoringly.
Bambam is wearing something that is probably supposed to be a crop-top, but he has some sort of shiny, thin and transparent black, long-sleeve top over it. The shirt is sort of long in the front, covering the crotch of his ripped jeans(which are more holes than fabric, but Youngjae doesn't dare criticize Bambam on his clothing, not after the incident with the sleeveless tank top last summer), which are so tight that they're probably painful. He'd tried to dress Yugyeom and Youngjae, too, but they'd both protested immediately, even though they did sit down to let him apply a little bit of eye shadow and eyeliner.
Being left to his own devices, Yugyeom went for a more subtle approach than Bambam, a simple white t-shirt with the logo from some dusty American rock band, with a lovingly-worn flannel left unbuttoned over it. His jeans are acid wash and not nearly as tight as Bambam's, tucked into his high-top converse. They're the same exact style and brand of shoe that Youngjae is wearing, but his are a snowy-blue color, where Yugyeom's are black with little skulls on the laces. (Bambam had bought the laces as a joke, but Yugyeom wore them anyways.)
Like Bambam, Youngjae is wearing black skinny jeans, but they're comfortable and in one piece. The white sweater he's wearing is a couple sizes too big, stripped horizontally with black, and it's comfy and soft and warm and Youngjae doesn't care that it's probably two washes away from falling apart. He glances down at Bambam's pointed, shiny black boots and feels only a little bit under-dressed, but not enough to care.
"Ooooh, let's do shots, Youngjae," And then Bambam is dragging him over to a bar that is lined with tired-looking fairy lights, and manned by an even more exhausted-looking bar tender.
"I'm driving home," Youngjae declines the next round of shots with that excuse, because just one to ease the nerves he felt getting through the door is, really, all he needs. And, anyways, Youngjae isn't a big drinker. He doubts that he'll get much use out of the ID other than this and the festival.
Instead, he watches Yugyeom knock back a third shot and feels a guilty pull in the bottom of his stomach, and then there's a rush of cold and he has a feeling that something is going to go wrong.
It happens, sometimes. Sometimes he'll be in class and feel the hair on his arms stand up, and then four minutes later he'll get a text from Yugyeom saying Bambam broke his wrist playing baseball, or he'll be watching Youtube on his laptop, and there will be a sudden ringing in his ears, and then he'll look out his bedroom window in time to watch his mom's minivan roll backwards into the neighbor's SUV because she forgot to put it in park. Other times, it's more mundane things, like his stomach will swoop and then his brother drops a plate in the kitchen. And, then, sometimes it is nothing at all. He'll be driving home from school and will suddenly get so sick to his stomach that he has to pull off the road and just breathe, and he'll call Yugyeom in a rush, but everything will be fine and Youngjae doesn't really understand any of it. Basically, he has a sixth sense but it's useless and doesn't work half the time.
Still, he trails anxiously after the two younger boys when they head to the dance floor, because he doesn't want to ruin their night for nothing at all. And, really, it is their night: Yugyeom moves his body fluidly to the beat of whatever song comes over the speaker, like he's been dancing to it all his life. Bambam is a bit clumsier at first, a bit more self-conscious, but then Yugyeom is laughing about something and Bambam hooks a thumb through one of his belt loops and yanks him close, and then they're moving together, and Youngjae is watching awkwardly off to one side as their bodies move, so in-sync that he can't make out where Yugyeom ends and Bambam begins.
And, then, Bambam catches him staring out of the corner of his eye and throws his head back in howling laughter. The next second, he's yanking Youngjae between them, his hands on Yugyeom's shoulders, and then they're all dancing and Youngjae is lost in the moment, nasty feeling at the bar left there and forgotten.
And, really, everything is great for the next little bit. They dance with each other and sometimes the odd person that wonders over to them, and laugh and joke wildly. Youngjae pretends not to notice the way Yugyeom's smile flows when Bambam is paying attention to him, and ebbs away when the older dances with some curvy college girl. He, playing the part of a good hyung, drags him over to the bar for another shot, and then an actual drink because Bambam and that girl are still dancing.
"Gyeommie," He tries, but there's not enough wisdom in his 17 years to give him anything of substance to say next, so he just finishes lamely with, "He's drunk."
"He's still not into me when he's sober, hyung," Yugyeom whines, pursing his lips mournfully while he nurses his drink, eyes hazy and wishful. Normally, Youngjae would balk away from someone whining about an unrequited crush, not because he thinks less of them but because Youngjae never knows how to deal with things like that. He's not sure if he's supposed to offer advice or just comfort, so he usually just changes the subject as quickly as possible without being rude.
However, sober Yugyeom would never admit to his stunningly obvious crush on Bambam, and despite them all having been attached at the hip since freshman year, Youngjae has never interfered. But, watching the way Yugyeom's eyes go a little glassy(more than just from the alcohol), he suddenly feels a little guilty for avoiding the topic to save himself some awkwardness, and leaving the younger to suffer on his own. Fuck, he's supposed to be his hyung, he's supposed to take care of the other two and be there for them, and he-
Yugyeom sniffled beside it, and Youngjae rips himself out of his internal monologue to throw an arm around him.
"Hey, hey, please don't cry, Yugyeom, please don't cry," He mutters, even though it's sort-of useless, and he ends up just holding the younger tightly while he half-sobs into his sweater, and it's probably not the most interesting thing the bar tender has seen that night, if Youngjae can read anything from the way he shoves a pile of napkins across the table. It takes a couple minutes for Yugyeom to compose himself(well, sort of.. He's still very drunk, and slightly snotty, and he's never been the prettiest crier), and Youngjae listens as he talks about anything other than how much it hurts to see Bambam throwing himself all over anyone who will let him on the dance floor.
"-Let me just show you the text-messages," Yugyeom pauses half-way through a rant about how his brother had accused him of stealing his camera, and his cheeks are still red with alcohol but his eyes are starting to lose their puffiness. "Oh shit, hyung, I think I left my phone in your car and I'm sure Mom's texted me like, a million times already. Can I borrow the keys real quick?"
He's already standing up, wobbling a little, and Youngjae just laughs while he rises too. "I'll go get it, Yugyeom. Go get Bam, yeah? And then we'll clean up in the bathroom and leave, yeah? It's late."
And it is late. The cold air bites Youngjae even through his sweater, but he's glad too be out of the stuffy club, even if it's only for the couple minutes it takes him to walk to and back from his car, Yugyeom's phone in hand. He's a little tired, eyelids already heavy, and he's glad they'll be leaving soon. They'll probably go to Yugyeom's house and spend the night (day? it's almost two in the morning), where they won't be disturbed.
Youngjae is half-way back to the club when he feels someones eyes on him, heavy, and that same sinking feeling in his stomach. He snaps his head up and swivels it around, almost comically, but it's not until he turns around that he sees him.
'Sees' is used lightly, because Youngjae can just barely make out a figure leaning against an expensive-looking black sports car, dressed from toe-to-chin in all black. He's wearing a leather jacket over a turtle neck sweater than looks ten times warmer than Youngjae feels. Surprisingly, Leather Jacket(his brain supplies him with a name) isn't looking at him at all. His attention is taken by the phone in his hands, dull screen lighting up the frustrated expression on his face. He looks utterly pissed, and Youngjae quickly turns around and scurries away before Leather Jacket catches him staring.
Inside the club, he's still shaking off chills that aren't from the weather, but he doesn't feel any better when he finds Yugyeom alone at the bar, knocking back another shot out of god knows how many, full of god knows what, but the way his face twists up at the burn of alcohol has Youngjae waving the bartender off before he can pour another one.
"Yugyeom," He begins carefully, "Where's Bambam?"
"Dunno. Can I have my phone?" He slurs the second and third word together, and makes grabby hands at the object nestled in Yougnjae's palm, and usually it would be adorable but he feels a twinge of annoyance.
"Yugyeom, please," Youngjae's firmer this time, "Where's Bambam? We need to go home."
He stands on his toes and peers over at the dance floor, which is mostly empty now. He finds the curvy girl from earlier with his eyes, but she's dancing with another, taller girl, and Youngjae gets a little nervous.
"He left."
"He.. He left?" He's pretty sure he heard Yugyeom right, but it doesn't make sense because he was outside, and surely he would have seen Bambam leaving on his way back in.
"Yup," Yugyeom drags the word out and pops his lips at the end, turning his empty shot glass upside-down, and then back up, and then over again, "With some short blonde guy, in a douche-esque snap back."
"He left, with somebody we don't know, and you-you let him," Youngjae isn't mad, just panicked and a bit frustrated because the entire point of him being there was to watch over the young two, and he leaves for ten minutes and now Bambam's gone, and Yugyeom is absolutely hammered and looks like he's about to start crying again.
"What was I supposed to do?" Yugyeom whines, grabbing Youngjae's sleeve with his sweaty palm, giving him absolutely adorable puppy eyes.
Youngjae takes a couple deep breaths. Realistically, he knows Bambam drinks more than either of them do, has a higher alcohol tolerance(now, not before. He remembers Bambam from less than a year ago, and, not pretty.), and hasn't had as much to drink as Yugyeom. He's not dumb, and it isn't really a secret that Bambam takes advantage of one-night stands when they present themselves.
So, he focuses his attention on Yugyeom, on getting him out of the club and home. He'll call Bambam once they're in the car, he decides, but they only get half-way there when Yugyeom suddenly jerks out of Youngjae's grasp.
"Hyung," He groans, pitifully.
"What is it? Did we forget something?" He's trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, and it quickly turns to concern when Yugyeom melts to his knees and leans over the ditch beside them, moaning pitifully. It's all Youngjae can do to pull his hair back, and rub his back lovingly as Yugyeom hurls onto the gravel below them, ignoring the headlights passing them by every couple of minutes.
Somewhere in between the second and third round of vomiting, Yugyeom starts to cry again, and after the fourth he's still not willing to move, and Youngjae isn't a weakling but Yugyeom is taller and broader than him, and there's just no moving him if he won't help.
So, they stay like that, crouches beside the road in the dirt, in front of the mostly empty parking lot of the nightclub. Neon lights down the road advertise a drug store and an all-night dinner, and Youngjae is thinking fondly of pancakes and bacon when someone clears their throat behind them.
He snaps around so quick that Yugyeom, half-dazed, startles beside him and grabs his thigh with a muttered, "hyung," and a subconscious part of Youngjae notes that Yugyeom is much more clingy when he's drunk, and stores it away in the back of his mind.
The intruder(well, they're outside, so... not really) towers over them, face half-hidden in the darkness, and Youngjae feels his breath catch in his throat. Before he can react, the stranger crouches down beside them, the lights from the club illuminating his figure. Much to Youngjae's surprise, it's the same stranger from earlier, the one that he thought he felt watching him. And, (again, much to his surprise) the man looks a lot softer up close. His leather jacket is worn and has a small tear in the right shoulder, and his turtle-neck sweater is stained with something greyish at the right side of the collar. There are two moles above his eye and his hair isn't gelled back like Youngjae had assumed, but brushed back gently. It falls to the side when he cocks his head curiously, and Youngjae blushes when he realizes how long he's been staring, only to realize the stranger has been staring at them for longer. What a creep.
He cover's Yugyeom's hand with his own.
"Is he alright?"
Leather Jacket leans a bit closer than Youngjae is comfortable with, even if he doesn't have any outright malicious intentions. Yugyeom lurches forward again, hacking violently but not producing any vile, and the guy beside them winces and wrinkles his nose up. It takes Youngjae back a bit, because this weirdo really doesn't have any business acting disgusted when he's the one who approached them.
"He's fine," Yugyeom is obviously not fine, but he nods anyways, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're just going home."
The other man stands when Youngjae does, and he's only a tiny bit taller than him, but not any less intimidating. The disgust has left his face, but Youngjae's still very much offended.
"I have a bottle of water, and some crackers. In my car," He offers, glancing to where Yugyeom is still crouched on the ground, holding his stomach.
"We're not going to your car."
He narrows his eyes at the man, arms crossed over his chest. Some sort of understanding seems to pass through the older's eyes, and he nods, just a slight inclination of his head, and Youngjae thinks he's about to leave. "Let me go get them, yeah?"
Of course, he's not so lucky, but when the stranger returns after a couple seconds with a still-sealed bottle of water and a pack of unsalted, generic crackers, Youngjae stops feeling threatened.
He's back on the ground with Yugyeom, who's resting his head sleepily against his shoulder. He opens his eyes a bit when the man returns, and takes the bottle of water without protest.
"Thank you," Youngjae pauses, eyes on his friend while he says it.
"Jaebum. My name's Im Jaebum."
I didn't ask, Youngjae thinks.
"Thank you, Im Jaebum-ssi," He says, trying not to feel how familiarly the name rolls out of his mouth. There's an awkward silence that only gets broken by Yugyeom popping his lips when he sets the water bottle down, and then the noise of him opening the crackers.
"Kim Yugyeom," He offers when Youngjae doesn't say anything and Jaebum doesn't leave, "And he's Choi Youngjae. Thank you for the water and crackers, Jaebum-ssi."
That's the thing about Yugyeom. He's a lot more polite to strangers, and when he's not around Bambam, is mostly respectful to Youngjae, calling him hyung without needing prompting. When Bambam is added into the equation, though, he gets a little less humble and a little more showy.
Youngjae loves him either way, but he's glad Bambam isn't there right now.
And, then he remembers that all of this is happening because Bambam decided to run off with some asshole in a snap back. Youngjae wishes he were there, so he could punch him.
"Are you alright, Yugyeom?" Jaebum repeats his question from earlier, and now Youngjae can tell that his disgusted expression is instead one of concern. His brows are drawn together in an almost cute way, and Youngjae feels himself warming up to him a bit.
"He just drank a bit too much," Youngjae supplies, smiling fondly. Jaebum smiles, too, and he swears he can feel his heart melting when the man's eyes disappear almost completely.
"Ah, I have a friend who gets like that. Doesn't know when to stop."
He's not sure how to respond to that, so he just nods, rising once again.
"Come on, Yugyeom. We really need to go home."
"Are you two calling a cab?" Jaebum lingers while Yugyeom stumbles to his feet.
"Designated driver," Youngjae sighs a bit at that, shaking his head, "He only lives a little bit away."
"Let me help you to your car?" It's a request, and Youngjae isn't sure why Jaebum, mostly a stranger, feels such a strong need to offer them help, but when Yugyeom staggers most of his weight against his shoulder, he stumbles a bit to the left and nods.
Jaebum gently pulls Yugyeom's right arm over his shoulder, and after a moment of hesitation, loops an arm around his waist. Youngjae watches this all carefully, and it reminds him of his older brother for a moment. He wonders if Jaebum has any younger siblings.
Yugyeom, still very drunk despite having emptied his stomach completely, thumps the side of Youngjae's head with his water bottle while they walk him to the car.
"What."
"Call Bam," He whines, high pitched and slightly annoying. "Make sure he's okay."
"I will later," Youngjae glances at Jaebum, whose face is curious, even if he doesn't look at them. His eyes are somewhere off to the other side, and there's something else there; He's worried about something and Youngjae wonders briefly if he was busy before he stopped to help two kids sitting beside the road.
"But, hyung, what if snap-back asshole is a serial killer, or, like.. I just mean, he had his last name on his hat. What kind of normal person does that?"
"He wouldn't be a very good serial killer if he had his last name on his hat," Youngjae tries to reason, but at the same moment, Jaebum says, "Was it Wang? In silver?"
It was, because Yugyeom had told him that much, but he's not sure why Jaebum wants to clarify that the letters where in silver. He wonders how many people have a snap back that says WANG on it, and how many variations of color they exist in.
"Yes?" Yugyeom sounds confused and Youngjae is, too. They're at his car now, and Jaebum has let go of the younger, but he's not leaving. He runs a hand through his hair(which, somehow stays perfect and Youngjae wants to touch it because he's sure it would be soft under his fingers, and now he's going to stop that train of thought because whatthefuckyoungjae), and pulls out his phone.
"This guy? I mean, the one on the left?" Jaebum presses the screen close to Yugyeom's face after a couple seconds. When he pulls it back enough for them to see, Youngjae leans closer, too, curious.
It's a picture of three men, probably pulled from Instagram, judging by the filter over the picture. The one on the left is wearing a white snap back backwards, and Youngjae can just make out dark brown roots under his dyed-blonde hair. The guy in the middle is a bit softer, half-smiling with his arm around Mr. Snap-back (who, Youngjae is guessing is also Snap-back asshole). The guy on the right has dark black hair, and he's tilting his chin up a bit, not smiling but not frowning- His lips are incredibly round and Youngjae feels more than a little gay.
"Yes," Yugyeom says again, and it's more certain than last time. He's glaring at the picture with his lips drawn into a pout.
Jaebum is dialing a number in the next breath, and he steps away but holds a hand out to them, motioning for them to stay. Youngjae has more questions than answers, so he doesn't argue, propping his hip against his car's door. It's a small, two door beetle, mint blue. He's the fourth owner; there were two before his brother bought it, and then it was handed down to him, but the paint job is new and it's cute and it hasn't broken down more than a handful of times.
He watches Jaebum, who stands picturesquely under a streetlight, one hand shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket. Youngjae's been tense this whole night, first with the worry of getting caught with their fake IDs, then struggling to comfort Yugyeom, and later learning that Bambam had run off. After that, when Yugyeom was throwing up and they were approached by a complete stranger, he'd been at the end of his rope, nerves too frazzled to be polite.
But now, looking at Jaebum, he has to admit that the other man is.. Well, in unsophisticated words, fucking hot. He has a jawline to kill, hair such a dark, inky black that Youngjae easily gets lost in it. The sides are shaved short, but the top is getting a bit long, and he can tell that the older gets a little frustrated every time it falls out of his eyes. He's continuously brushing it back, a nervous habit.
Yugyeom clears his throat beside him and Youngjae snaps his eyes away. He'd been staring, again.
"-Found him," The older is still close enough that they can hear him, "He was at a club downtown, Jinyoung... No, he left before I could go in," There's a pause and he looks over at Youngjae, and shit he was staring again. "He left with someone. No, I don't know who.. If he felt well enough to drive, I'm sure he's not drunk enough to do that. Give Mark the phone, I'm not going to talk to you when you're like this."
And, then, Youngjae stops listening because the conversation turns a little personal. Instead, he gets Yugyeom into the backseat of the car, where the younger leans his head against the far window, looking more than ready to clock out. Youngjae, although a bit jealous, doesn't blame him. It has been a long night.
When he stands back up and fixes his passenger seat, Jaebum is closer than he expected, (read: right. Freaking. Behind. Him.) and he turns and finds his face less than half a foot away from the other's. Youngjae lets out a little shriek and falls into the passenger seat clumsily, a hand clutched over his heart while he breathes. He doesn't feel sleepy anymore, and Jaebum is staring at him like he's lost his mind.
So, Youngjae tips his head back and laughs. At everything, because he's been holding it in all night. At him falling, at Yugyeom's pining, at the situation that he's gotten himself into, and the older just stares until Youngjae is breathless and trying to stop.
"Sorry, sorry," He apologizes, but doesn't move out of the passenger seat, "It's been a long night." He's had to play the responsible hyung the whole time, and it's taken everything out of him.
"It's alright. Uhm... Can you, uh, call your friend? The one Jackson left with?" There's a pause.
"Jackson is snap-back asshole," Youngjae clarifies, and then slaps his own hand over his mouth a second later, but Jaebum just snorts a laugh and nods.
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I can, but if they're... You know," And here, Youngjae has to physically refrain from making a fist with one hand and pushing the index finger of his other in it, and instead clears his throat and blushes a little, "Having sex, I doubt he'll answer."
"I doubt they're having sex."
"How would you know?" Youngjae is curious now, because Jaebum sounds so sure.
"Jackson has.. A boyfriend," He supplies, and there's more there but that's all Jaebum says, other than to add, "He doesn't have it in him."
Youngjae arches an eyebrow, once again left with more questions than answers, but he takes his phone out and pulls up Bambam's contact anyways. Yugyeom is snoring behind them, and he's glad.
He hits call.
And, sure enough, after a couple rings, Bambam is answering the phone, sounding half asleep.
"Hello?"
"Bammie, where are you?" Youngjae forgets, for the moment, how mad he is at the younger.
"Oh, shit."
Jaebum looks at him for an answer, so he puts it on speaker and asks again when Bambam doesn't say anything else.
"One second," There's sheets rustling on the other side of the phone, and then a quiet conversation, "We're at a hotel, CenterMark? It's in the city."
"I know the one" Jaebum nods and then he sighs, sounding pained. "Can you ask him to give the phone to Jackson, please?"
"Youngjae, who're you with?" Bambam still sounds sleepy, but he's curious now.
"Your bed-buddy's friend."
"We didn't-"
"I don't want to hear about what you did and didn't do, Bambam," Youngjae lets a little of his annoyance creep into his voice, but not much. "Can you give the phone to him, please? Jaebum-ssi wants to talk to him."
Bambam sighs, annoyed, but there's another muffled conversation on the other side of the phone, and then, "He said no."
"Put the phone on speaker," Jaebum holds his hand out after Bambam say's it's done, and when Youngjae (reluctantly) hands him his cellphone, Jaebum takes it and talks directly into the microphone, voice authoritative and final.
"Jackson Wang," He starts and Youngjae is momentarily worried that this is going to be a long an passionate speech, too personal for him to hear, but all Jaebum says is, "Pack your shit. I'm going to be there in twenty minutes and then you're going home."
He hangs up, and hands Youngjae his phone back. His expression is angry again, the one he was wearing when Youngjae first saw him, but then it's gone and he's offering the other a kind smile.
"Do you want to come with me? I have to go get him, and you probably need to get your friend, what was his name, Bambam?"
"Yeah," Youngjae glances over his shoulder again, "But Yugyeom isn't moving anytime soon, so..."
He hesitates. Jaebum looks tired, like him. He's not sure what all the other has on his plate, but Youngjae wants to get Bambam and go home. "Let's take my car, yeah? And then I can bring you two back around and drop you off here. We live on the other side of town, anyways."
"Works for me," Jaebum nods, and when Youngjae slides over to the drivers seat, the passenger door shuts with a click that brings the swooping, heavy feeling back to his stomach.
Youngjae starts the car.
