Work Text:
like many things, it begins as a series of accidents. when you’ve got seven guys living in close quarters with three guys to a room, things like clothes and accessories are bound to get accidentally stolen, mixed up and mixed in with someone else’s belongings. they’re busy, too; early morning studio sessions mean brian reaching blindly for something warm to wear—sometimes it’s one of his hoodies, but sometimes it’s jae’s.
this is a problem, at first.
“stop wearing my shit,” jae grumbles when they make it back to the dorm. brian tugs the hoodie over his head, giving jae an eye roll while he’s at it.
“here, take it back, jesus,” he says, and jae catches the hoodie when brian throws it with a huff. sungjin snaps at them and they separate, brian disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him while jae flops onto the couch with an irritable sigh.
it happens again, and again, and again, until eventually jae stops calling brian out on it and lets it go (much to sungjin’s relief). the rest of them watch with bated breath as jae and brian fall into a sort of uneasy truce, as late night arguments turn good natured, insults to jokes as night fades to morning.
sungjin doesn’t think jae and brian get any closer than the rest of them—the whole group spends practically all of their time together, everyone is close. then, he starts to notice.
the theft of clothes is a common occurrence now—no one bats an eye when they see brian wearing jae’s big pink sweatshirt that’s long enough to brush the tops of the younger’s thighs, or jae in brian’s sweats that are just a few inches too short on his legs. It’s not the clothes, but the glasses that first catch his attention.
“everyone ready?” sungjin’s got his back to their front door, watching as everyone files into the living room so they can head to their schedule for the day. wonpil yawns, leaning into dowoon who seems distracted by whatever’s happening on the phone in his hands. from the second bedroom, two blond heads emerge, brian reaching up to push jae’s glasses further up his nose. perfectly normal, except. except the glasses are on brian’s face instead of jae’s.
brian sees the look sungjin’s giving him, and cracks a wide grin. “do you like them hyung? jae hyung said i could wear them until we get there because they look good on me.”
jae scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, clearing his throat as his foot taps an uneven beat on their living room floor. “tell him he looks good so we can go,” he pleads.
“i think they look nice on you, brian hyung,” wonpil beams. “and jae hyung looks handsome without them on, too.”
“are you all done?” sungjin asks, and jae nods hurriedly. “good. the van is ready downstairs, let’s go before we’re late.”
true to his word, jae lets brian keep the glasses until they’re in the music show waiting room, long enough for fansites to snap a few pictures of it on the way in and for brian to take selfies after they get inside. sungjin sees the fan pictures on twitter, later—sees the bright smile brian has on his face as he looks behind him, just past the camera lens. (sungjin knows that’s where jae was walking behind him.)
+
sungjin has to stifle a yawn with his sleeve—it’s only just past ten p.m., but it’s been such a long day that all he wants to do is faceplant into a pillow for twelve hours. his stomach protests, though, so he forces his eyes to stay open long enough to grab something to eat from the kitchen.
on the way back to his room, sungjin has to stop to listen, tensing at the sound of muffled bickering from the other bedroom.
“always asking to use my shit,” jae grumbles. sungjin’s ready to go in there and play kindergarten teacher and force whoever is arguing to make up, but then he hears brian’s laughter.
“just cause your skin is nice, hyung.” brian’s tone is playful, and then there’s the sound of the tap running. “everyone knows your foam cleanser is the best.”
“buy your own.” sungjin’s known jae long enough to tell that he’s not actually mad, and brian knows it too because he just hums in response. the tap shuts off, and then the light in their bedroom does too.
“night hyung,” brian chirps.
“night,” jae replies. sungjin waits until the rustle of blankets fades to silence before making his way to his bedroom, a ghost of a smile on his face.
+
“you should give jae hyung one too.” brian’s grinning up at the stylist noona, a winning smile that usually gets him whatever he wants. sungjin’s prepared for there to be some bickering—the shop is rarely quiet, even this early in the morning—but jae just snorts in response. “jae hyung would look good in one, right noona?”
the stylist noona stifles a laugh before she finishes off brian’s hair with a light coat of hairspray, keeping it soft enough to fall over the bandana and into his face to drive the fans crazy. “i have something jae-ssi could wear,” she says, turning to rifle around in her bag before producing a printed sweatband.
jae doesn’t complain as she puts it on, brian watching with a proud smile while she rearranges jae’s hair to suit the accessory. “do you like it?” she asks, stepping back to allow jae to put glasses on again. sungjin watches, jae turning his head from side to side before giving a satisfied nod.
“good idea, bri,” jae says offhandedly, turning back to his phone as the stylist noona moves on to mess with sungjin’s bedhead. brian preens, the satisfied smile not leaving his face till they’re on stage.
(later, on the ride home, the two of them bickering good naturedly about who looks better in the pictures from the show. in the end they decide it’s jae because the sweatband is a novelty, for which brian takes all the credit before suggesting jae borrow his bandanas for future shows. jae doesn’t say no.)
+
“shit. does anyone have a pick?” jae asks, patting his pockets dramatically.
before sungjin even has a chance to scold his hyung for being unprepared, brian’s extending his palm, pick resting in the center. “here, hyung,” he says. jae accepts it with a nod, settling back into his seat before shoving the pick between his teeth to tune mery.
“if you’re gonna put my pick in your mouth, just keep it,” brian jokes. jae laughs, giving him a half hearted “sorry” as he begins to play.
sungjin doesn’t miss when, later, jae hands said pick back to brian, who pockets it with a smile.
(the habit is contagious—soon enough, brian’s holding his pick between his lips as he fiddles with the strings on lisa. north americans, sungjin thinks. he’ll never understand them.)
+
“i’m going out for ramen, i’ll be back soon,” jae announces, shrugging on a padded coat before heading for the door.
eyes never leaving the video game on the tv, brian calls after him. “hyung, can you get the one—”
“in the red package, i know i know,” jae cuts him off, and brian throws him a winning smile over his shoulder.
“thanks hyung,” he beams. jae just blows a puff of air in response, but sungjin sees the corners of his mouth just barely quirking up in a half smile. he watches as jae turns to leave, eyes catching on the white text printed on the back of the jacket jae’s wearing—“business school, business administration.” at this point, sungjin isn’t even surprised anymore.
+
it all culminates in the form of a single guitar. it’s jae’s fender reissue, his pride and joy, his baby; the guitar that doesn’t even have an official name yet. no one has laid a finger on the thing since jae bought it—he’s shooed them all away with talk of their “grubby fingers” and “unsophisticated playing.” which is why sungjin is floored when he opens the door to their practice room to see brian sitting cross legged on the floor, head cocked to the side as he gives said guitar a tentative strum. while sungjin wouldn’t put it past brian to play the thing while jae wasn’t looking, jae’s standing in the corner of the room playing on his phone. sungjin looks back and forth between them; jae glances up, clearly aware of brian’s trespassing, before turning back to his phone with a smirk.
sungjin says nothing—it’s not like he wants to play the damn guitar, so it’s best just to let those two be weird by themselves. however, it doesn’t make it past their youngest two members when they finally make their way into the practice room. wonpil is the one to break the silence, looking from where brian’s still playing peacefully on the floor to jae who’s now tuning toy soldier.
“jae hyung, how come brian hyung gets to play your expensive guitar?”
jae just shrugs. “brian’s my favorite.”
sungjin’s not sure how long it’s been this way, but he’s so unsurprised that he thinks maybe—maybe it’s been this way all along.