Chapter Text
18, 19.
Jinyoung thinks of his life in moments, memory associations, background music, soundtracks which are related to the event. He compartmentalizes it that way. Monster brings him back to when he and Daehwi fought over the last single album re-release at their local CD store. Genie (Tell Me Your Wish) pulls him way before that, to 2008 when he thought Yoona was the superstar of his life. Animals brings him back to his first college party.
House parties are the worst.
Polished since young, Jinyoung has often been invited to parties by girls who’d flutter their eyelashes at him and pass him an invitation. He’d always look at them blankly but take the invite anyway, although he never showed up.
He doesn't know why he’s at the current party, what sets it apart from those he hadn't attended. Something pulled at him to come, despite it being far from his usual scene. Maybe college.
The strong stench of alcohol hits him like a punch in the face right as he steps in, nodding past the makeshift bouncer in faux nonchalance. He involuntarily recoils at the sight of half-conscious minds detached from sweaty bodies dancing and moving against each other. It’s a burdensome sight.
Jinyoung remembers exactly why he hates parties despite this being his first one. It was just like how the movies played out - frat dudes in tank tops with coiffed hair, flirting with girls who have dark long hair. Korea, America, the party scene was the same.
He turns to leave, when a flash of bright pink catches his eye. It’s an extremely good looking guy with pink hair, a drink in his hand with his upturned lips on the rim. Jinyoung drinks in the sight for a moment and the man tilts his head at Jinyoung slightly. His eyes are piercing blue, and Jinyoung wonders why he was the one caught in the gaze. The panic gets to him after a moment of entrancement, then he high tails out of the room without looking back.
He can't help but wonder when he’ll be able to see those eyes again.
Jinyoung also hates the heat.
He’s sweating, cursing Korean summers while his fringe falls onto his forehead in a bowl cut. He lets out a laboured breath, already dreading the game his orientation group is about to play. He doesn't understand why eighteen year olds have to hold hands in the sweltering sun and play a game to ‘forge friendships’ and ‘strengthen bonds’ or whatever.
Not yet wanting to accept his fate, he warily eyes the sweat-slicked hand of the person next to him. Before the group leader can blow the whistle and he’s forced to accept his next few minutes of destiny, a boy slides into the space next to him. (It was left there deliberately to keep space from sweaty palms.) He has pink hair, and Jinyoung’s heart skips a beat.
The boy smiles, blindingly, at the group leader who looks like she’s about to ask. “Sorry I’m late!” Jinyoung swears he sees her turn into the human form of a heart-eye emoji.
Turning to Jinyoung, the boy smiles. “Hi. ‘m Park Jihoon.” Jinyoung nods dumbly, noting that Jihoon’s eyes were in fact, not blue but still equally electrifying. Jihoon continues, “I’m delighted to see you again.”
The first time Jinyoung meets Jihoon, Jihoon’s hair is pink and he doesn't love Jinyoung.
Yet.
28, 29.
Jinyoung couldn't believe he was actually thinking this, but: the novelty of flying business class had totally worn off.
Fresh graduate Bae Jinyoung would be so disappointed if he found out how quickly present-time him got tired of business class. He used to be enamoured and feel on top of the world, getting opportunities that most wouldn't have, but now he hates having to get on a plane at all. There was something that irritated him about getting out of his area, now, like a low buzzing in your ear that you can't get rid of. Daehwi sits beside him, already preparing his headphones and eye patch for the hour long flight.
His phone on his lap vibrates, and he jerks a little.
A flight attendant sees him typing a reply, but says nothing. Truly the perks of business class. He leans back of the plush seats, reminded of the leg room. Maybe flying could be bearable this time round. Maybe.
The sigh that escapes his parted lips is disappointed, and Daehwi looks up at him. “What’s up?”
“We can't stay at Seongwu’s place. His mom is coming around to stay for a week.”
“That's a letdown, but why can't we all just stay there?”
“Are you kidding? We’re not that serious.”
“You haven't met the parents?” Daehwi asks incredulously. Jinyoung sets his phone to airplane mode, shaking his head. “And here I thought you two were about to get married. Don't worry too much about it, we can just return to the original arrangement. I’m sure my friend won’t mind.”
The airplane lifts, Jinyoung blanching at the thought of leaving Busan. After graduating from university with honors, Jinyoung left for the working world, doe eyed and inexperienced. He landed a job at an entertainment company first - working long hours for nameless celebrities. He hated that job.
So he quit, job hunting cycle repeating until Daehwi broke the door down and recommended him for a job at the same place the younger worked at. It was a fashion company, and Jinyoung found, after what felt like three months but was actually a year, that he loved it.
Live it - that's what he decided to do. There he was now, working in Busan for smaller projects and designing clothes for A-listers and their upcoming wedding or red carpet or film premiere.
The biggest fashion event was the one he dreaded the most, though it brought the biggest names and revenue. Seoul Fashion Week was diversity at best, and mere chaos at worst. Jinyoung had experienced it while elevating his portfolio for a promotion, and detested it.
Maybe it was the Seoul air, polluted and nipping. Maybe it was the people, rushing and exuberant. Maybe it was the fashion, copied off American styling and unoriginal. Or, maybe, it was the place itself.
In any case, Jinyoung disliked Seoul in all honesty. He tolerated it for work, but that was where he drew the line. “Is my Busan accent strong?” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, sampling a few sentences for Daehwi to listen to beside him.
The younger rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’ve been bred and born a Seoulite. You were there for twenty-two years, and Busan only four. Shouldn't you have been conscious about your standard speak in Busan?”
Jinyoung pokes Daehwi. “What for? Busan doesn't judge.”
Unlike Seoul. Jinyoung thinks. The city of lies, emptiness and bare bones.
“You’ve never met Woojin, but he’s pretty popular here. Came down from Busan at eighteen and has never looked back. A true artist.”
“He won't mind us making a mess, right?”
“Real recognize real, bro. We're all artists. Heard his roommate, the other one, went solo. So he’s got a free room for us.” Daehwi smiles wryly. “His other flatmate works in the fashion business, so maybe this is connection-building for us too."
Daehwi presses the pass code in, Jinyoung panicking a little at the thought of barging into a stranger's house. How did Daehwi even know the pass code, and why didn't he call the apartment owner first? The door clicks and unlocks, Daehwi swinging the door open as if he owned the place.
“Park, is that you? I told you, freaking call me if you come home in the afternoon, we’re out of milk--" The brown haired man in front of him stills, a rag in one hand and an empty can in the other. “LEE DAEHWI!”
“No need to overreact, hyung.”
“I haven't seen you in two months, you brat. Can you respect your elders?” Woojin places his items on the adjacent table, rushing to help Daehwi with his baggage. “Not too bad a flight, I hope?” Daehwi shakes his head, toeing his shoes off with familiarity. Jinyoung wanted nothing but to ask exactly how many times Daehwi had been to this apartment.
“Oh, hullo,” Woojin addresses Jinyoung. “Your face is so small.”
He said it with a tone that was just short of reverent, and Daehwi swears he saw Woojin’s eyes sparkle. “My visual one pick,” Woojin breathes. He only snaps out of it when Daehwi nudges him.
“Hyung, you're creeping Jinyoung-hyung out.”
“Hi,” Jinyoung replies, smiling bashfully. He shrugs off the weird first encounter. “I’ll get changed first, it’s really great meeting you, Woojin-hyung. Thank you for having us.”
“It’s my happiness.” Woojin chokes out, not knowing exactly what he was saying anymore. “Food will be ready in a while.”
Once Jinyoung is out of earshot, Woojin screeches, “He’s like a manhwa character come to life! How could you not tell me he existed?” He ignores Daehwi’s eye-roll, continuing relentlessly. “Dude- I think I’m in love. That's it. Single for years just for this guy. Thank you, Hwi, for introducing us!”
Daehwi can only groan and close his eyes in surrender.
18, 19.
Jihoon jogs up to Jinyoung, waving. Jinyoung looks at him reluctantly, barely offering a half-smile. They’re behind the gym area, and it’s locked. Jinyoung always has the key though, because he’s trusted as he’s always attending classes. The good looks is a bonus, of course. Jihoon is at the gym often, but access is closed when classes are on.
“Hey, my favorite person.” Jihoon says breezily. On the other hand, the younger looks attacked by the words, ducking his head and passing the keys to Jihoon instead of giving a proper reply.
“Don’t spend too long here. If you get caught, I’ll get into trouble.”
“I would never,” Jihoon says, scandalized that Jinyoung would even suggest that. There's a stony silence, the two finding unfamiliarity in the absence of banter.
“Hey. Jinyoung-ah.” Jihoon turns to Jinyoung, resting his back on the wall behind the both of them. Their positions side by side are reminiscent of two school boys getting punished for tomfoolery together. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I wonder if you know the answer to that or if you’re just pretending not to know.”
Puzzled, Jihoon tilts his head, confused. “Sorry?”
Jinyoung sighs, knowing it’s a losing battle to resist. “Listen, hyung. I’ve just been thinking about the party last week. Kind of been stressing me out.”
“I already told you, Jinyoung-ah. They're good kids, so you shouldn't be scared. And… you’re perfect already. You don't need to impress them.”
“Suck up king.” Jinyoung rolls his eyes, punching Jihoon’s arm playfully out of embarrassment.
“You know it,” Jihoon winks.
“Are you coming for lecture later?”
“Nah. Gym skip, every fortnight. But save me a spot, yeah?”
“For your spirit? In the lecture hall?”
“Nah, in your heart!”
28, 29.
It’s no surprise to Jinyoung when Woojin joins him and Daehwi in the kitchen for a brainstorm session in a pair of pink pyjamas. Jinyoung, clad in his rabbit print pyjamas and sweatpants, claps and whoops as Woojin walks in.
“Nice get up,” Daehwi says sarcastically. He puts his hands on his hips, Rihanna’s printed face enhanced by his sass. “New style?”
“Don’t attack pink. Once the other Park and I complete our duo in the pink pyjamas, you’re done for.” Woojin sneers at Daehwi, “Oh, by the way. Your face is a disgrace to Miss Rihanna.”
Knowing Daehwi’s offended face when he sees it, Jinyoung gets up, feigning pressing bladder problems. He excuses himself, and like the wind, he’s gone.
As if on cue, a loud bang could be heard from the front door following the aggressive pressing of a passcode. The usual melodic unlocking sounded like the whistle chime of a horror movie, and Woojin and Daehwi turn towards the door.
“YAH! Park Woojin! I know it’s a stretch to try and get you to wash your feet every day, but could you at least keep your dirty shoes to one side?” The footsteps are heavy and ominous, and the grumbling is loud and clear.
“Oh shit,” Woojin says. “My roommate - I forgot to tell him you were gonna stay here. Shit shit shit, the nagging stopped. Did he die?” He stands, leaning to his side and craning his neck to see past the corner. Jinyoung comes back to the toilet, standing behind Woojin and peeking around him.
“Who?” asks Jinyoung, not knowing what he was looking for.
Woojin pushes past Jinyoung - lightly, he still wanted to make himself look as charming as possible in Jinyoung’s eyes - and goes to check up on Jihoon. He turns the corner and his lips are forcefully met with a sweaty palm, dragged by the heels into the storage room.
“I’ll give you my house, please don’t shoot me!” Woojin pleads, squeezing his eyes together. He doesn’t realize the palm was off his face and his assailant was far from him already. He opens his eyes to see Jihoon, ever the fucker, unaffectedly looking through a crack in the storage room door.
Dusting himself off, Woojin pretends he wasn’t close to pissing his pants because he thought Jihoon was an intruder. He clears his throat, Busan accent coming out due to his embarrassment. “Yo, I gotta tell you, man. You know Hwi, right? He’s here…”
“Is that my ex in the dining room?”
“...Daehwi’s your ex?” Woojin sputters out after a stretched bout of silence. “I wouldn’t even know. You don’t tell me anything, how am I supposed to know which ex?”
Alarmed, Jihoon appears next to Woojin in a flash, and demands, “Bae Jinyoung? Small face, straight out of a teenage girl’s dream?”
“And yours too, apparently.” Woojin mutters under his breath.
“This is my nightmare,” Jihoon says menacingly.
“Wait, oh my, you dated Ji--?! Actually I don’t know man, I’m bad with names.” Woojin eventually confesses, shrugging. Jihoon groans.
“I can’t, I can’t live with my ex!” Jihoon says, starting to pace in the small room. It ends up being more of a step then turn, then repeat. “Why is Bae Jinyoung-”
“I’ll do you one better. What is Bae Jinyoung?”
“And even better,” Jihoon says, jutting his chin in challenge. “How is Bae Jinyoung?”
“Yo, Wooj-hyung.” Jinyoung says, popping his head into the already cramped space. “Sorry for the mess. We don’t want to be a bother, we can leave if y’all want.
“Also, hi, hyung.” Jinyoung turns to Jihoon, giving him a weary smile. “Bae Jinyoung is fine.”
“So what you’re telling me is,” Woojin starts, gripping his head in a futile attempt to curb the impending throbbing. “That your sorry ass dated Jinyoung? What did he see in you?”
Oblivious to Jihoon’s inner turmoil, he turns to his best friend and asks, “Is he into snaggletooths? Many ladies have fallen for the fatality of my misplaced tooth. It’s my charm.”
“How are you okay with dating my ex? My best friend and my ex. A nightmare.” Jihoon says. He shudders.
“Whatever, if you’re weird with it then you don’t have to be my best friend. If you’re not gonna marry Bae Jinyoung, I sure will!” This time, Woojin notices how Jihoon freezes at the words and how his skin turns a sickly pale. He stops in his tracks. “Ddung-shi, are you okay? I didn’t overstep my banter, did I?”
Jihoon gets up and rushes off, lurching forward as if he was going to throw up. Woojin waits and hears the opening of Jihoon’s door instead of the toilet, so he picks up his phone and searches up Jinyoung’s profile on Facebook. By the time Jihoon returns, Woojin has found that Jinyoung, in fact, does not have Facebook, but he does have a public Twitter profile. Which has been untouched since 2020.
Jihoon carries a journal, which is busting at the seams. When he sits and opens it, physical copies of photographs spill out, sliding off where it was pressed between the journal pages and falling onto the couch and Jihoon’s lap. What catches Woojin’s eyes isn’t the number of photos, or the fact that he has pictures printed, but how happy Jihoon looked in the photos. Distracted, Jihoon starts vigorously yet gently flipping the pages of the journal, as Woojin silently picks the photos up.
The latter turns the pieces to look at the dates marked on the back. There are little notes written with flowery language that makes Woojin’s stomach churn. One look at the two pictured, Jihoon’s smile and Jinyoung’s relaxed stature despite them standing far apart, made only one word come to mind.
“Lovers,” Woojin whispers, the awe in his voice seeping through.
“Look at this,” Jihoon says, passing the younger a piece of paper. Woojin lifts it to his face, and catches a whiff of lavender.
“Oh god, it’s scented. It has borders and signatures,” Woojin says, skimming through the format. “How serious is this paper? Oh. Oh no.” His eyes reach the end of the paper, and suddenly he understands Jihoon’s heart-in-mouth expression.
“Fuck. I know,” Jihoon wails. Woojin rereads, trying to figure out whether this was an elaborate prank or not.
Pact between Jihoon Park and Jinyoung Bae
This document legalizes JIHOON PARK and JINYOUNG BAE’s marriage at the age of thirty given three conditions (see Annex B). This document cannot be void unless any one or more of the conditions are fulfilled. This document is overseen by legal officer YONGGUK BANG, and is agreed to by the two parties concerned for reasons…
“Houston, we have a problem.” Woojin says, and it’s the most serious Jihoon has ever seen him since the latter came out as gay. Jihoon refuses to get told off by his least cultured friend (in his own opinion), immediately crossing his arm in defense.
“It’s not a big deal,” Jihoon protests, changing his stand. “Like, seriously. I can live with Jinyoung. Don’t need to fall in love. I’m not even entertaining that thought."
“Yeah, you shouldn’t, anyway. Jinyoung’s already got a boyfriend.”
“What?” Jihoon’s tone shouldn’t be as incredulous or interested as he is, and he lets on. “I mean. I don’t care that much. Pfft, whatever.” He blows a raspberry, and Woojin stares. “I mean! I don’t care. Like at all. If you think I care, you’re mistaken.”
“I didn’t say a single word,” Woojin says evenly. “Also, your spit is all over the table. Clean it up and pack all your pictures into the journal. I’m going to sleep.”
“Woojin…” Jihoon whines. He looks down at the table, seeing that indeed, his saliva had travelled much. And his photos were scattered all over the leather couch. “Oh, you were right. I’m a mess. Goodnight, babe,” Jihoon says sweetly.
Saying nothing, Woojin raises both middle fingers in response. He’s always let on far less than he’s been plotting, though.
The next morning is civil enough.
Obviously, Jinyoung and Jihoon wouldn’t discuss their dirty laundry over McBreakfast. That would be uncalled for. The silence is awkward though, much more than Daehwi would like to admit. When Woojin and Daehwi make eye-contact from across the table and feel strange, Woojin decides enough is enough.
Interestingly enough, the older’s first instinct is to bring up Minhyun. “So. Heard you’re finally getting some moves on Hwang Minhyun,” Woojin comments casually. Daehwi makes an intrigued ooooh! sound. Jihoon yelps and from the corner of his eye, he sees Jinyoung raising his eyebrows, starting to become absorbed in the conversation.
“Yeah. He goes to the same workplace as Jihoon and he’s had the longest crush on Minhyun. I think even while Jihoon was interning.” Woojin explains, all while looking at Jihoon smugly.
“So, Hwang Minhyun? His username is optimushwang? Tacky, but he’s handsome as hell. Yes, I am quoting Taylor Swift. Off my case, Bae.” Daehwi raises his phone up for confirmation from Woojin, and his raises his hand to stop the jab from Jinyoung that he knows is coming.
“I didn’t say a single thing.” Jinyoung defends himself.
Jihoon is slightly in awe of how easily Jinyoung had taken the news of Jihoon being romantically involved with a new man. Then it hits him - it’s been nine years since Jinyoung and Jihoon broke up. Jinyoung is presumably getting married to the mysterious man (who Jihoon is still skeptical about) he’s currently dating. They don’t owe each other anything.
At least, Jinyoung doesn’t owe Jihoon anything. Jihoon should let Jinyoung be happy. He owes Jinyoung that much.
The tips of Jihoon’s ears burn red, and despite his protests, which fall onto deaf ears, all Woojin said was true. Jihoon has had his eyes set on Minhyun for a long time. The remaining three giggle over Minhyun’s profile, consisting of mostly movie reviews, short song covers - “Hot damn, he’s good. Where did you all even find this guy?” - and surprisingly, Jinyoung is the first to offer Jihoon a comment.
“Go for it, hyung. He’s really good looking, talented and seems like a great guy.” It should seem like a challenge, in every other post-break up situation. Jinyoung’s eyes are anything but jealous, though, and there’s a genuine quality to his voice.
It’s Jinyoung’s blessing, but Jihoon swallows, uneasy. He should be happy. He should be, so he pushes away the ache that presses at his heart.
The ache comes and goes, and Jihoon attributes it to his lack of exercise and diet management. “Yeah man. You don’t have a jaw,” Woojin points out. He says this as he stuffs a few chips into his mouth, and Jihoon shoots him a dirty glare as they wait for food a few weeks later. “Get Jinyoung. Daehwi says he’s downstairs with the food already. I’ll help him.”
About to whine and tell Woojin to switch roles, Jihoon is silenced by Woojin’s frown. “Okay, fine.” He walks as Woojin leaves the apartment. He shouldn’t be nervous, all it is is calling Jinyoung down for dinner. As he raises his fist to the door, he notices that it’s left open slightly. Jihoon remembers that his old apartment-mate, Samuel, had been complaining about the lock.
He peers into the room and finds Jinyoung, with his back facing Jihoon, skyping with a man. The man’s face is sharp and angled, with a defined jaw and a radiant smile. It could be anyone that Jinyoung is talking to, but as Jinyoung laughs at something the man on screen says, Jihoon knows. He knows that that is the laugh of someone in love.
Don’t believe Jihoon? “I’ll see you in five working days,” the man says. “I love you.” Jihoon doesn’t stay long enough to hear Jinyoung’s reply.
Later, Woojin finds Jihoon seated on his bed. His phone lays idly on his hand, and as Woojin swings the door open, Jihoon scrambles to swipe the screen. He knows what Woojin is about to ask before it even comes, so he beats him to it.
“Oh, Minhyun called.” Jihoon extends an smile, and hopes his smile is convincing enough and betrays not the pounding of his own heart.
Jihoon’s call log remains empty.
18, 19.
"Hey.” It’s a cool evening in Autumn when Jinyoung makes the decision that Jihoon would inevitably have to take responsibility for. The one that would change the course of their relationship - then friendship - altogether. Jinyoung has a serious expression on his face, but the yellow beanie makes him look so soft that Jihoon can’t help the grin that forms on his face. “Spice up my life. Make college the most unforgettable moments."
"You sure?" Jihoon raises his eyebrows. He’s always toyed with the idea of Jinyoung coming with him to the parties Jihoon frequents. He places his hands on the table, trying not to show how badly he’s shaking. "It's gonna cost you a lot of sleep--"
Jinyoung rolls his eyes. He says, "As if I'm getting eight hours of sleep right now. If I can finish my thesis in one day, I can basically do everything."
"--Aaaand you'll have to talk to people." Jihoon continues, knowing Jinyoung nature which takes him awhile to warm up to people. Jihoon, of course, is an exception.
"I can work around that," he replies with uncertainty. "Just that... what if they don't like me?"
"What are you talking about?" Jihoon asks. "Everyone is gonna love you. And if not..." His lips lift, and says, "Then I will. Love you."
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Have I let you down yet?”
Jinyoung’s beaming smile is answer enough.
19, 20.
Jihoon breaks Jinyoung’s heart.