Chapter Text
“You’re real, aren’t you?”
One question.
It was just one question, but it was able to flip Jiho’s life upside down. To others, it might’ve even sounded like a weird question to has ever been asked, not to mention to a complete stranger. But somehow, Jiho understood, and that—the whole concept of weirdness itself—was the whole point of their relationship.
Jiho had been at a party thrown by a junior he didn’t know the name of when Seungyoon asked him that. Jiho, with a bottle of beer in his hand that he had yet to drink, turned to the voice’s owner—he hadn’t known his name at the time. Weird, it was weird. The whole setting was weird to Jiho because he was pretty sure that the music was blasting too loud for him to hear another human’s voice and yet there he was. The boy was leaning against a wall, shoulders slouched and head tipped up slightly so he could see Jiho. He was, in fact, looking at Jiho right in the eye and Jiho had frozen for a moment, but then the boy blinked and Jiho blurted out, “Yeah.”
Jiho didn’t even know why nor understood how, but he did say that and then the boy ducked his head and covered his face with his hands. For a moment, Jiho was scared that there was nothing deep about it. That it was just a prank because Jiho had always been serious and the whole campus, the whole neighborhood, the whole town, hell, even the whole world knew it was easy to pull a prank on him. His worries thickened when he saw the boy’s shoulders shaking. He’s laughing, Jiho thought, of course it’s fucking funny. But then he heard sniffles and realized that the boy was crying.
Jiho guided him to a less crowded area—which means, outside—and sat him down on a bench. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he just patted the boy’s back while he sobbed and sobbed. After a while, when he wasn’t crying anymore, Jiho asked him what’s wrong and he shook his head, “I’m not sure. Never fucking sure anymore.”
Jiho understood. Sort of.
Somehow, after that strange night, Jiho bumped into him at campus and for a split second, Jiho wondered how he should act. If he should pretend he didn’t remember the boy just to save him from the embarrassment of crying in front of someone who was a complete stranger or—
“Oh, Jiho hyung!”
Or, well, not.
“Hey, you,” Jiho greeted, trying to be casual. “How are you?” and he didn’t mean the are you feeling okay today how are you, but the did whatever make you cry that night still makes you cry and do you need someone to be asked whether they’re real or not because people are fucking plastics, because everyone is a walking forgery and do you need me to pat your back how are you, which was answered with an “I’m fine.”
“Thank you for that night, hyung.”
Jiho swore if anyone passed by and heard those words without context, they could spread a rumor that Jiho was a cheap whore which would affect his reputation, that he’d built since he was a junior, badly. But something about those eyes made Jiho think, if he were to be destroyed, and was allowed to choose what would destroy him completely, he would choose this guy.
They talked for a good five minutes before the guy, Seungyoon, excused himself out because he had a class to attend. Just like him, Seungyoon was majoring music. He started his year late because he’d gotten into an accident during orientation, which was why Jiho had never seen him before that night.
The thing is: Seungyoon was very fun to talk to. Jiho had never felt that content talking to someone new, like he didn’t have to hold himself back because there were certain standards that people knew him for and usually, Jiho had to fulfill those standards first and went for weeks to convince someone that he really was like that before he could open up little by little—or even never.
They kept bumping into each other the next few days, until they didn’t, because Seungyoon came up to him one afternoon after Jiho had just finished his class. “Hyung, do you wanna hang out sometime?”
Why not now? Jiho wanted to ask, but Seungyoon was a little bit of a psychic because he immediately said, “Not now, I have a project to do. Can I have your number?”
He was handed Seungyoon’s phone and typed his number immediately. Seungyoon could get his number, literally, anywhere. It was probably even written on the bathroom’s wall, and yet here he was, standing before Jiho like an excited puppy waiting for his treat. Jiho pretended it wasn’t touching as he handed the phone back and Seungyoon grinned widely, and oh, cool, the sun is jobless now.
Seungyoon called him a week and three days after that. Jiho had been worried, what if he’d put the wrong number, that somehow his thumb slipped and he didn’t notice there was one incorrect number and he didn’t know how to fix it because the world conspired they never met at school in that period of time. But Seungyoon called, and that’s what mattered.
They met up in a playground near Seungyoon’s house, Jiho bought ice creams for them as they sat on the swings, talking about nothing and everything. Seungyoon apologized for not calling sooner because he had a big project to finish and Jiho felt weights lifted from his shoulders, since it was only a project, since it wasn’t someone that could’ve been having Seungyoon’s attention. And honestly, it only occurred to him that he had been having such thought at that moment, he tried to shoo it away because he didn’t want that.
After that, they hung out way too often. Half of the time Jiho even crashed at Seungyoon’s place, that even his mother begun to prepare three plates on the table for mealtime. Some nights when one of them had to stay up to finish a task or just couldn’t sleep, they would sit on Seungyoon’s bed and talked about their childhoods; Jiho’s spent wearing expensive suits and ties that felt more like a noose while Seungyoon’s went with him hiding from every fear in his head. Some other time, they would fall asleep next to each other; Seungyoon after he demanded Jiho—“You’re real, aren’t you?” which Jiho would reply with a squeeze on Seungyoon’s hand and a whispered yes I am, Seungyoon, yes I am—and Jiho after he decided that it was creepy to watch Seungyoon sleeping.
Time passed by, Jiho and Seungyoon were still Jiho and Seungyoon. Jiho had never felt anything like the way he felt whenever he was with Seungyoon before. It’s not like he didn’t know what was going on, it’s just that he wished he didn’t because he thought it’s hard to change the direction of their relationship after all this time—and especially after Seungyoon had so many times declared them as friends.
Of course he knew he could try, he even talked about it with his friend.
(“What if they’re scared to kiss you?” Minho asked, and Jiho snorted because Kang Seungyoon wasn’t that type of person. He was the risk it all or nothing at all type, but whatever, it’s not like Minho would know. Which was kind of his fault because he didn’t even use any specific pronoun—Jiho just didn’t want Minho to know Seungyoon, ever. “What if it’s in the back of their mind too, that they’re scared to ruin the friendship they insisted?”
Jiho thought, maybe. Maybe.
But he didn’t hold on to it.)
Some time after Jiho graduated, they became quite distant. Seungyoon had gotten busier with his study and Jiho was trying to settle into a job, there had been occasional texts but never a meet up, Jiho was quite stressed. Which was why he smiled way too wide when he saw Seungyoon on his doorstep, bringing a huge bag of food from his mother.
“Wow, you should’ve not bothered,” Jiho mumbled when he peeked into the bag and opened the door wider for Seungyoon to walk in. Seungyoon shrugged and paused as he looked down, “Are you with someone?”
Jiho glanced to where Seungyoon was looking at, a pair of shoes that didn’t belong to him. “Yeah, I have a friend over. It’s okay, we’re not doing anything important, so you’re not interrupting anything.”
Seungyoon nodded and took his coat off as Jiho brought the bag inside. “Anyhow, you both are here so, Seungyoon this is—”
“Song Minho?”
“Kang Seungyoon?”
Yeah, that, Jiho thought, but he didn’t say anything and only blinked at the two in confusion. Minho laughed as he shook Seungyoon’s hand, then turned to Jiho, “He tutored Danah for a while, she wanted to learn guitar and Jinwoo hyung said Seungyoon was looking for a temporary job.”
“Ah,” Jiho said and nodded. For a moment he watched as Minho and Seungyoon interacted—Seungyoon asked how Danah was doing and how he missed Minho’s cat, Minho joked about Seungyoon not missing him, which resulted in him receiving a playful punch on his chest. Something about their interactions that day hurt Jiho’s head and everytime Minho made Seungyoon laugh, he thought: oh no, oh no.