Archive of Our Own

A Bee

That night, Jisung returns home, takes a quick shower, and goes to bed near two a.m.

He tries not to think much of it. His body is sore, nausea rolls in his stomach, there are these bruises on his arms and small scrapes from her fingernails here and there, but he thinks he's okay. He doesn't...Feel much different than usual. Really, when he takes inventory as he rubs shampoo into his blond hair, he can't say much has changed. Jisung doesn't think he can ever look at her the same, much less wrap his arm around her shoulder and press their cheeks together. But on the inside, he just feels a little buzzing. It grows louder the more he focuses on it, so he begins to sing quietly to himself so as to not wake up his family. His voice is almost entirely drowned out by the sound of the water, but it takes his mind off the tiny buzzing and it becomes something he can ignore. Jisung supposes he can be considered sad as he steps out of the shower and texts her to never try to speak to him again before blocking her on every social media, but he's fine more than not. It's Saturday night- Well, Sunday morning, and he doesn't have plans until late so he's free to sleep until the afternoon and that's what he plans to do as he tugs on grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

Strangely, Jisung doesn't recall wearing pants to bed that often before, but he figures it's because it's winter and he's cold. He curls up under his Doraemon sheets that Changbin gifted to him last Christmas and shuts his eyes. His legs curl up and he winces a bit. Jisung's muscles pull and hurt in ways he doesn't remember them ever doing before, and he sucks on his bottom lip. It's cut in a few places from her teeth nipping too harshly, and the memory makes him shake his head a bit. Thinking about it makes that incessant buzzing harder to ignore, so he tries to think of things to put him to sleep. Good memories, like when Chan took him out to ice cream for getting the highest score in his class on an essay, and the time Hyunjin came over and they were up baking treats until his whole kitchen was full. Things like that fill him up a little, and he breathes in and out slowly.

Jisung doesn't take long to fall asleep, but waking up is a much different process.

When he wakes up, he isn't sure what's going on. He went to bed thinking that the nausea would fade, but it seems to be even worse and so is the soreness. He groans into the empty bedroom the moment he's conscious, but Jisung can't quite tug his mind out of the mud. Or maybe it's more like quicksand, because the more he struggles to wake up fully, the more he's sucked down but the previous morning he'd promised to head to Minho's to hang out for a couple of hours, maybe have dinner. He wants to wake up, because being in this in-between reminds him of when she was shamelessly on top of him despite all the ways he said no, and he doesn't like that feeling. It's too helpless. Jisung opens his mouth so he can breathe through it, make his lungs take in more cool air than they can just through his nostrils, and that seems to be enough to make his mind aware. His eyes fly open and he stares at the mirrors on his closet door. They're wide and round as they stare at their own reflection. Jisung smiles at the reflection briefly, but it quickly drops.

Even smiling hurts, and to him that's bullshit. He hopes the small cuts on his lip will heal soon as he pushes himself to sit up. His joints pop and crack and he groans again. Jisung checks his clock- It's around three in the afternoon, but Minho is picking him up in his car. He has time to take a bath instead, because not only did he wash his hair last night, but he thinks his muscles need it. Every movement hurts worse than the night before, and his throat is dry. Jisung stumbles out of bed and into his bathroom. His clothes from last night are still sitting on the floor and he kicks them into the pile with all his other laundry. With a bit of difficulty, he bends to turn the handle to a tolerably-warm temperature and leaves it to run. The blond leaves his bedroom, fingers digging into knots in his shoulders. He leans into the railing of the stairs as he drags himself down them. Jisung is still tired, and he hopes the cup of water will wake him up a little more and stop the burning sensation of his dry throat. Because of the time of day, he's home alone and that sort of sucks. The quiet lets the buzzing get louder as he fills up his glass and takes small sips- Otherwise, the nausea would get worse and he really, really doesn't want that.

Jisung sets the empty cup down and travels back upstairs. The bath is maybe a third full, so he picks up his laundry and deposits it in the basket by his bedroom door. He looks around for something, anything to do but there's nothing that catches his eye, so Jisung exhales hard enough to puff out his round cheeks and grabs his phone from the nightstand. There are only a couple of notifications- Some emails he doesn't care about, a text from his brother he ignored the day before, a reminder from his wellness app that he should get some minor exercise in-

"I think I'll have to skip that one for today, buddy," He speaks aloud as he swipes it away, and distantly he realizes it's the first time he's spoken since he was at her house. Jisung sang in the shower, sure, but speaking is a little different. He expects his voice to sound weary, shaken, but it sounds ordinary to him. He nods thoughtfully and checks a message he got from Minho while he was sleeping.

Do you wanna stay the night instead? I can drive us to school in the morning.

He considers it. His brother is out of town, his parents both work late, and Jisung doesn't like how loud that strange buzzing is when he's alone- Plus, Minho's house smells like snicker doodle cookies and he has two cats, so the answer is pretty easy for him.

Sure hyung! Buy lotsa yummy snacks~ <3

He leaves his phone on his bed and sheds his pajamas carelessly as he makes his way back into the bathroom. Just as he hopes, the warm water soothes his aching muscles, just a little bit.

"I didn't finish my stupid fucking science project," Minho announces the moment Jisung drops his backpack unceremoniously on the floor in front of the passenger's seat and climbs in, "So you can make one of two choices. Or three, I guess. One, we can pretend it doesn't exist and forget the hell that is school. We could do it together when we get to my place and then hang out afterwards- That's two. And I guess there's three which you'll only pick if you're a real asshole, Sungie- I could do it by myself while you entertain yourself. What'll it be?"

"You've had two weeks to do it, hyung," Jisung raises his brow, throwing out his palms to face up as he spreads his fingers. He inclines his head and makes the best judging expression he can, because this is Minho and Minho is anything but weak. Expectedly, the older only raises his own eyebrow in return, catching Jisung's gaze just for a moment as he turns at the corner. He rolls his eyes and lays his hands in his lap, picking at the edge of his long-sleeved shirt with a pout. He's less than interested in working on a science project, but Jisung also knows that if he doesn't help, Minho probably wouldn't fucking do it anyway, so he sighs, "I don't intend on being why you fail science, so I guess we can do it together. But you have to feed me sweets in return."

"Aww, Sungie looks so much like a squirrel when he pouts like that~" Minho teases, and as they're unfortunately at a red light, reaches over to pinch his cheek. But when he does, he frowns, and his long lashes come close together as he squints and looks closer. Jisung shifts uncomfortably under the attention, "Babe, what happened to your lip? It looks all torn up."

"Hyung, the light is green," He mumbles, and self-consciously his fingertips brush against his bottom lip. Jisung remembers vividly what it felt like when she did the same, smearing the then-fresh blood across it like it was something anyone should do. He presses his lips together in a thin line and hunches lower in the seat, but Minho glances at him. He wants an answer, but Jisung...Doesn't think he can say what happened without getting into the other aspects of last night. He runs his hand through his hair and shrugs noncommittally, grinding his teeth together. It makes the dull headache he has a little worse but it's better than letting that damned buzzing get any louder. He thinks if the volume continues to raise like this that it will drown out the real world, "I didn't drink enough water before bed last night, and lost my dumb chapstick. My lips were all cracked when I woke up."

"My poor baby," Minho says sympathetically, but overly dramatic and with a pout that draws a laugh from him. He brings his feet onto the seat but Minho doesn't complain, so Jisung leans into the door and lays his head on the glass of the window. The older seems to get the vibe that he doesn't feel too much like talking, which contrary to popular belief, isn't uncommon for Jisung. When he wants to speak, he has more than enough to say, but he enjoys just being in others' company, so his friend turns up the volume of the music and sings along cheerily to the music. He grins when Minho adds unnecessary sound effects when there's only the sound of the track playing rather than lyrics during a dance break, and he hums the song. Everything is startlingly normal to Jisung, and he's torn. Should he be glad, or does that mean what he doesn't want it to? He's certain he knows what last night constitutes as, but if he's feeling like this...Then is what he thinks even true? It worries him, and his stomach rolls again. It hasn't stopped since she took his top off last night. Jisung's breath stutters for a moment, but a quick glance at Minho confirms his friend hasn't noticed it. That's all fine and well. He just wants to have a good time, so he files that under his Maybe Next Time label and moves on.

He's glad when they arrive at Minho's house. It's smaller than his own, but it feels very much like a home. It's well-lived in, cluttered but not uncomfortably so. A worn white swing sits on the front porch and potted flowers line the sides of the foundation. It's a place he's gone to many times before, and Jisung is truly happy to be here as Minho unlocks the front door and lets him in. As expected, the scent of snicker doodles hits him and he inhales deeply, but that hurts his stupid muscles. He wonders how long he'll ache for. Hopefully not long, because he doesn't like the pain in the slightest. Minho is already in his kitchen, grabbing them drinks, but Jisung is distracted by Doongie so he misses the way his friend is staring at his phone, tapping away.

"Hey, Jisung?" He calls.

"Yeah?"

"Why is your girlfriend blowing up my phone about you ignoring her?" Jisung's throat goes dry, and his fingers pause from where they have been rubbing between Doongie's ears. The cat meows and bumps his hand impatiently, so he forces himself to breathe through his nose and continue petting the animal. He can see Minho's legs standing in front of him. Of course she'd do that. Of course. He wonders if the others have similar messages. He looks at his hyung with a wince, and the boy offers him a hand to help him up from the kneeling position. Jisung takes it and avoids his eyes as he stumbles over an answer that isn't untrue, exactly. It just happens to leave out some important information, but there's a Maybe Next Time label in his brain for a reason and that certainly goes there.

"Well, we aren't exactly...She isn't my girlfriend, anymore. I, uh, broke up with her so I guess she's..." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You broke up? Why, I thought things were going well?" The honest confusion nearly makes Jisung say everything, but he doesn't want that right now. He physically bites his tongue, unable to move his eyes from the ground. Soonie is now walking over his feet so she can rub against Minho's leg.

"It wasn't going to work out. Just, trust me on that one, hyung," Jisung's laugh is a little too breathless and brittle, "Can you just, uh, tell her I really meant it? And to not message you or any of the guys anymore? I deleted her contact and blocked her on everything, so like, I can't do it myself or I really would, hyung! I'm sorry to make you the middle man, I didn't even think she'd go and do that!"

"Of course, babe, I got it," Minho soothes, and silence falls upon them as he types something into his phone. He seems to hesitate for a moment, "I'll tell the others to not bother you about it either, yeah?"

Jisung can't force himself to speak past the lump in his throat, the ill feeling in his stomach, the buzzing inside of him- So he just nods, playing with the sleeve of his shirt and trying to forget the sound of her praising him like he was a willing participant in any of it. His tongue peeks out to lick at his lips, but for some reason he can't decipher, the action makes him uncomfortable and he clamps his mouth shut. There's tension in his jaw, and Jisung knows it's making the headache worse. He just doesn't know what to do next. His mind is scrambled, in a million places at once. Jisung feels like part of him is still there, on her bed, repeating stop even as she reassured him everything was alright. That must be why he keeps remembering parts about last night that aren't relevant to today, right? Or is he reading too much into it? Isn't it average to randomly recall pieces of yesterday when you're left to just think? He swallows the thick saliva that's filling his mouth, and Jisung knows his face is pinched. He can almost imagine the vulnerable look he's wearing, with eyes that might be a touch too damp and lips that could be trying to hold back crying. He finds the courage to look Minho in the eyes, but instead of breaking to pieces like he thinks, he finds himself warming just a bit.

"My poor Sungie," Minho's cooing again, but there's no teasing in his voice, "Let's forget about science, it's fucking dumb anyway. Do you just wanna cuddle and eat snacks instead, Sungie?"

He sighs in relief and nods immediately. That sounds much, much better, until it hits him- He's agreed to cuddling, and Minho reaches forward and grabs his hand. Jisung fully expects his body to tense, for his nerves to scream danger and reject his dear friend's touch, for him to panic and freak Minho out, yet he finds himself melting into the familiar embrace like he would any other day. The older's small hands wrap around him and hold him closely, but not too strongly that it makes his body hurt. Jisung's trembling fingers grasp onto Minho's hoodie and a rushed, heavy breath leaves him. He doesn't understand- He didn't think it was supposed to be like this. Everything he's ever heard told him that people don't like being touched, that they can hardly function and that nothing ever returns to normal yet here he is, in his hyung's embrace, living today almost like yesterday never happened. It's so confusing and it scares him. Jisung just doesn't get it, and he buries his face into Minho's neck as the older hushes him, petting his blond hair. Jisung thinks that, maybe, his fears about yesterday are right and he...He shouldn't feel like a victim at all.

When Minho is asleep that night, Jisung locks himself in the boy's bathroom and takes off his shirt. He stares in the mirror and finds everything in his reflection that looks wrong. Jisung eyes all of the bite marks and bruises from sucking that shouldn't be there. He remembers the bruises from her fingers that are on his arms, and the scratches from her nails. A lot of them have faded away, but there are some that were enough to tear the first layers of skin and still sort of sting. The pair of red lines that curve around one of his nipples makes him dizzy enough to grasp the counter for a moment. Crescents from where she dug her nails into his upper arms are still there, too- Her nails are long, so some of them bled last night. He hadn't realized until he bathed in the morning. The waistband of his sweatpants is low on his hips, so he can see the edges of bruises there too, ones that go lower and it's something that makes him shiver and scramble to put his shirt back on. Jisung is glad he decided to change into his pajamas when Minho was in the kitchen, because surely there would have been more questions.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he looks around the small space. He taps his nails against the countertop and sighs, carefully sinking to the floor. It all still fucking hurts, so he is delicate with his movements and wonders if he should find painkillers before school tomorrow. His lingering headache is a good excuse for them. Jisung presses his back against the wall and tries to breathe normally, yet the heat of his breath sort of burns and he winces. He touches his phone in his pocket, but he doesn't know if he wants to pull it out. But Jisung does it anyway, holding the device loosely, ready to drop it at a moment's notice if it burns him. There's no reason that it should logically do that, but honestly he isn't sure what is logical anymore and as he stares at his open browser, he realizes again with startling clarity...

Jisung is terrified. He's terrified he's going to search his questions and find the answers he doesn't want. If everything hurts and he said no and stop and she didn't, then the answer should be simple, right? But he looks at the keyboard on his phone and feels nothing but dread, because what if it isn't that simple? What if he's completely off base, what if he's making a big deal to himself about nothing?

After all, he's eating just fine. He's hardly cried since they were in the middle of it, the closest being just before Minho offered to cuddle earlier- And Jisung had been completely fine with cuddling him. He hadn't at all felt threatened by his friend's hands or body being so physically close. He didn't confuse him with her like everyone says happens after. Jisung's doing just fine minus the marks and the confusion and the buzzing. He hates the buzzing, though. As he sits in that cramped bathroom, he realizes it's been there since even before his shower. It hasn't stopped since she kissed his nose ever-so-tenderly and told him she loved him, drying his tears as she slipped off and curled up next to him. It was present as he stared at her pink walls, as he put his clothes back on and left her house, as he walked home all alone, it was even there as he drifted to sleep and while he struggled to wake up.

It's dull, most of the time, but when it's quiet or he's alone or he thinks about her and what they did- She did? Jisung doesn't know how the fuck to think about it- It gets loud and sometimes even dizzying. It won't leave like his nausea, but Jisung isn't the type to puke so that doesn't surprise him. He's used to going far-too-long feeling sick to his stomach, and eating through it. He's not concerned about that. He swallows again, but Jisung can't move beyond that. His thumb hovers over the screen until his timer runs out and the glow dims, and finally extinguishes itself. The light above is still on, but he doesn't think it would matter either way. He's sort of stuck in this dark feeling, but at the same time even thinking that feels overdramatic. It doesn't feel that terrible, he's just not sure what's right and wrong. Jisung wants to blame it all on her, thinks he should blame it all on her, because he shouldn't feel so uncomfortable. Jisung...He just shuts his eyes.

Thinking about it is exhausting. He slips his phone back into his pocket and stands, a pained sound slipping from his lips. Jisung's hand hesitantly reaches down to his groin and brushes over the bruises through his sweats and squeezes his eyes shut. He shakes his head and immediately flips the lights off, walking quickly back to Minho's couch where they're sleeping. It's so hard but he tries to control his breathing as his trembling hands pull back the blankets. Minho shifts and his eyes are hazy with sleep when they meet. He holds an arm up and Jisung slides in, pressing his forehead to Minho's chest. The other's arm lays across the middle of his back, warm, secure. He closes his eyes again, but he's breathing too damn loud.

"Babe, you okay?" Minho mumbles. Despite the fact that Jisung's just woken him up, he still manages to sound worried.

"I'm fine, just thought I saw something. I'm still not convinced this place isn't haunted," It draws a warm laugh from Minho, one that he feels as much as he hears. He doesn't know it, but he's the only reason Jisung feels even remotely safe and God, he cherishes it. He just thought that he hasn't been crying much, but a tear clings to his lashes. He stubbornly wipes it on his sleeve and tangles their legs together.

"Don't worry baby, I've got you. Nothing will touch you when I'm here," He's saying it to protect Jisung from imaginary threats, intellectually he gets that, but the way things are right now? Jisung doesn't know whether it's comforting or makes him sad, because he doesn't know if Minho understands that sometimes saying don't touch me isn't enough. Words don't seem to mean a lot. Or maybe it's just certain words? Maybe Jisung should make a list of words and phrases that aren't enough to stop things you don't want from happening, since he didn't know them before. He's always assumed it would be enough, but now he's not sure of a hell of a lot.

On the other hand, Jisung's tired. Sure, he slept from two a.m. to three in the afternoon, but it's late and he has to get up early to go to school. And when he gets to school, he needs to face his friends after breaking up with his girlfriend. They're probably going to try to act normal but sneak sympathetic glances when they think he isn't looking, or whisper or overanalyze everything and Jisung needs to figure out how he's going to handle that. Or more, he has to get to school and learn as he goes, because he doesn't have a clue how he's going to feel when he wakes up. Will his body still hurt? Will he still want to blame her? Will the nausea still roll in waves? Will the buzzing still be there?

...Will the buzzing still be there?

School isn't much worse than hanging out with Minho, and Jisung hates that he's built it up to something big in his head. His friends truly don't treat him any differently. Seungmin still tosses an apple slice at his head as he greets 'hey loser.' Jeongin still shies away when he tries to kiss his cheek. Woojin still pats the open space next to him for Jisung to sit, but today the bruises are pulsing and he waves the spot away with a smile. Hyunjin still asks to take a peek at his math homework, only to have Changbin look over both of their sheets and pronounce them idiots for getting half of them wrong before hurriedly scribbling out the correct answers and how he got there. Chan still ruffles his hair and says good morning. Felix still rambles to him about a show he watched over the weekend in a mix of Korean and English. Minho still calls him babe and wraps his arm around his shoulder. It's all ordinary, and Jisung feels very ordinary.

Feeling very ordinary makes him more confused. He feels himself getting a little more scared. And then Chan asks about his lip.

"The dummy let his lips get all dried out," Minho answers, jostling his shoulder slightly, but something about the whole situation makes the buzzing kick up a notch and he steps away from his friend, crossing his arms.

"I can answer for myself," Jisung's words are mumbled, but defensive. He's looking at the patterns in the concrete, scratching at his wrist in a familiar habit. He feels his own injured lip pouting, and he guesses that makes any of the tension the others feel go away. Or maybe they pity him for breaking up with her. Jisung wonders if he told them what happened with her if they would still feel like that. The thing is, he still can't quite put together what happened in her bedroom, and he remembers how fucking awful it felt when he thought in terms of what 'she did,' so he can't say it like that, even to himself. Not until he sorts it all out, not until he can decide if it's her fault and if she did something wrong and he gets to be hurt like he is. Jisung craves to know if he's thinking what happened did, he needs to. That's what scares him so much. Did he break up with her over nothing? Should she have gone through his friends to try to reach him? Was it wrong for Jisung to block her? The buzzing is as loud as the nausea is strong. He shuts his eyes.

The conversation has gone on without him, which Jisung is fine with. Eight pairs of eyes feel like too many, and he's relieved when the bell for class rings. He needs to stop thinking about it, because he can't afford to go through all this. The Maybe Next Time label, he reminds himself. It exists and he can use it, and as he walks into class, he decides that's exactly what he's going to do. He decides this at the same time a girl wearing a pink bracelet passes by, so he doesn't understand why his mouth goes dry so suddenly. He wonders if he caught a cold from walking home so late at night.

Jisung manages to keep it in his Maybe Next Time label for the next few days, which he thinks is pretty impressive. On Wednesday, they have a half-day, and Chan invites him over. Something about that makes him want to hide, so Jisung figures he's already hit his social energy limit for the week which doesn't surprise him. He's been talking an awful lot during school, and has been working on a lot of group projects in class. That sort of thing is always exhausting, so he explains it to the older and receives an understand nod and hug in return. Chan walks him home and reminds him the offer is open for the rest of the day if he changes his mind. Then Jisung is left in front of his house with an empty feeling and buzzing inside of him. He feels very alone as he unlocks his front door- That makes sense, again, no one's home. He walks past the laundry room on his way to the kitchen and freezes. Inside, a blue-and-red sweater is hanging up. It looks so ordinary, yet looking at it makes Jisung feel the nausea that has mostly dissipated since Monday. It isn't that Jisung forgot about it. That's impossible, when bruises are still darkening in their colors, when brushing over bite marks still hurts and there are crescents from nails that he's taken to putting band aids over. But most everything associated with last Saturday night is packed neatly away. Looking at the sweater he was wearing then?

It makes Maybe Next Time now.

He shuts his eyes and steadies himself against the doorframe before he moves on, changing directions from the kitchen to the bathroom instead. Jisung locks the door as soon as he enters, though no one will return for hours. Just him. He takes his phone from his pocket again, and opens his browser. Why does thinking about Saturday make his body hurt that much worse? Jisung's been feeling a bit better, but the tension headache is back. He feels stiff. The cursor blinks in the search bar, waiting for him, and he decides if he can't ask the question he really wants to, he can start somewhere a little more simple. His heart slams against his chest so, so painfully as he types

what is rape

Jisung hits enter.

A type of sexual assault usually involving sexual intercourse or- Jisung stops there. He doesn't like the uncomfortable feeling at the base of his neck, and he shakes his head. Maybe it isn't the time. Or maybe he should ask someone? He's wanted to tell his friends for a while, actually, but he doesn't actually know to bring it up. It's an awkward topic, even talking about kissing her with them was awkward, so something like this...It actually might be more uncomfortable than the feeling at the base of his neck and the buzzing but he already closed the tab and figures there's no going back. Jisung stands by the sink and sighs, and he can really only think that he wants Chan. He feels very, very alone and he doesn't like that.

Jisung wants Chan.

He wants Chan even more when, on Friday, she taps on his shoulder during lunch. His back is to her as he eats a sandwich, listening to Felix tell his story about T.A.-ing for Jeongin's art class. Apparently Jeongin decided this morning that the best way to let his teacher know he hates her back was to make his painting a lovely scene depicting a boy with braces dumping a suspiciously-similar-looking woman off a wheelchair at the edge of a cliff. He nearly chokes on the bread when Jeongin defends that he was simply recreating a meme which makes it artistic expression, and everyone is so caught up in laughter that no one sees her coming. But then a long nail accompanied by the scent of sharp, expensive perfume startle him and Jisung thinks he's stopped breathing. His eyes are wide and the buzzing is nearly screaming at this point.

"Jisung-ah~" She says his name sweetly, like she has for months. This, this is what Jisung thinks victims are supposed to feel like. The paralyzing fear, the hair standing up on the back of his neck, every instinct inside of him fighting to run run run- Jisung does nothing, simply staring at the food in his hand. He isn't hungry anymore, "Jisung-ah, can we talk for a tiny bit? I promise I won't take much of your time."

His friends all stare at him, waiting for him to give an indication of how they're meant to react. Should they shoo her away, or stay quiet? Jisung gets it, he hasn't explained a damn thing about why they broke up and he really, really doesn't intend to right then and there. But her scent floating around him is like being on that soft bed again. It curls around him and makes it harder to move while she runs her hands up his body, whispering romantic things to him even though Jisung is saying that's enough. He can see her bedroom's pink walls and how far the door is. When he swallows he feels her lips on his throat, when he moves under the force of his friends' eyes he can feel her hands tugging at his shorts, and when he meets her eyes, Jisung can still see them staring almost tenderly down at him as he cries in fear, begging for her to get off of him and let him go home. Jisung remembers her telling him to be quiet and act like a man as she made those awful twin marks on his skin.

He nods anyway, and lets her lead him away by the hand to an empty courtyard.

The last thing he sees as they go is Chan's worried expression.

Jisung wants Chan.

"Jisung-ah, I thought after this long you'd get over whatever your problem is and start talking to me again. What's wrong, sweetheart?" She asks as soon as they're away from prying eyes. Jisung thinks he's going to die. His legs are shaking, struggling to keep him up. She gets closer and closer as he moves away, until Jisung's back hits a wall and Oh God, she's touching him again. The gentle fingers that he's felt do cruel things are on the same arms she bruised nearly a week ago, and his stupid fucking flight mode is failing him. She has him completely pinned against the wall, and sure, Jisung is strong enough to push her away, but all he can think of is what he thought of last Saturday night and how he's still not sure what happened or why and he just...Stands there. Lets her press their bodies together in a way he used to think felt pleasant. Now it only burns him with icy fear.

He's so fucking scared he can't breathe. He really can't.

"Talk to me, Jisung-ah. Did I do badly last time? Should I do it differently?" Jisung shakes his head more rapidly than he ever has before, and finally he grabs her arm before she can reach all the way down. It hurts still, "What then? What could you possibly be hung up on?"

"...I told you no," He says quietly. Her eyes narrow.

"Excuse me?"

"On Saturday. I told you no."

"So? You're a damn man, Jisung, you don't just say no."

That's exactly what Jisung is scared of, but it feels so wrong. It crawls underneath his skin and makes him tremble and the buzzing won't leave him alone. He lightly pushes her arm away and takes advantage of her momentary surprise to step away from the wall. The moment she's no longer crowding him, a sense of relief nearly tips him over, but then he remembers that they're still alone and she's clearly not afraid to touch him, to do it again. She isn't nearly as scared as him. Jisung must be pretty weak, then, to be terrified of her. She stares at him with an exasperated expression, and he chokes the words out, "But I did. I said no."

"And I didn't care, oh no. Really, Jisung-ah, grow up. If a girl wants to have sex with you, you shut up and enjoy it. That's your place in the bedroom, sweetheart, and I didn't exactly see your dick telling me no," But his mind repeats the words sex and bedroom and shut up and Jisung can't. He just can't. Jisung distinctly remembers what his body felt like when she rubbed her hand against him and he hates it so much, it's wrong and being near her is wrong and he runs a sweaty palm over his face. He's going to cry, or pass out, he knows it and he stumbles in the first direction he sees that's away from her, "Hey, where are you going? Jisung!"

"Don't come near me again," He manages before he turns the corner.

Jisung doesn't really participate in whatever happens for the rest of the day. He's there, physically, he smiles and laughs and answers questions but if you ask him later, he can't really remember any of it. That's just another thing that terrifies him.

Nothing is that different from before, but Jisung doesn't want to leave his bed on Saturday so he doesn't. On Sunday, he cleans his bathroom like he's been meaning to for months. Jisung skips school Monday because of a fever, and goes through the rest of the week much like he did before she talked to him. He feels rather okay again, just sad and still confused. He can't tell if he's allowed to associate her with those terms- Rape, sexual assault, he just can't figure it out for certain and that makes him sadder. A tiny buzzing is present all the while.

Jisung realizes on the second Saturday since whatever happened happened that Chan is worried about him. It comes in the form of a text from Changbin hyung, asking him to meet them at the studio. Chan's parents rent him out a small studio space, they have for years. Jisung loves the little place, it's like a second home to him. He's spent countless days and nights there, wrapped in fuzzy blankets as he scratched out lyrics and tapped his pen along to imaginary beats. He's spent so many hours just recording himself rapping and singing, and always with Changbin and Chan. That's what the three of them do, that's why they're so close, and he guesses it's a little off for him to not have gone to the studio for a while. He's been busy, he really has- It's winter, so there's a break coming up. Teachers are shoving projects and homework at the students and Jisung's so caught up in it that he's hardly had time to think. But he doesn't want to worry his friends either, so he leaves behind all of his opened textbooks and highlighted notes and walks to it.

The buzzing inside of him still won't fade after all this time.

"Jisung, you're here," Changbin sounds relieved, and he hugs Jisung as soon as he shuts the door. It feels like it's been forever since he's had the time to appreciate his hyung, and Jisung is as clingy as ever. He hugs back tightly since his muscles don't really hurt anymore. Most of the scratches and the lighter bruises are gone, and he's really thankful. Many bite marks have also faded, so he doesn't ache nearly as much as he did in the first few days. But there's still the deep bruising on his bottom half that he doesn't want to think about, and the ugly matching scratches near his nipple. Jisung hopes, hell, prays that they won't scar. Looking at them in the mirror makes his skin crawl and he just wants them to leave, too. But he shakes all of those thoughts away, ignores the buzzing, because Changbin is there and holding him and he smells like marshmallows, "It feels like it's been forever."

"We see each other at school, hyung," Jisung laughs, and they waddle over to the old black couch, still holding onto each other. He's okay with this, even as they collapse into it and Changbin ends up between his legs. It doesn't make him sick, for real. Jisung feels fine this way.

"Is that Sung I hear?" Chan pokes his head from around the corner, and he smiles enough to show his dimples before gasping in mock offense, "I'm hurt! My kids are having a cuddle party without me? That's just a fucking crime, guys. How could you?"

"It's not my fault you're too old and slow to come out here fast enough," Jisung sticks his tongue out. He's happy, he notices. Victims are not happy. Right? He thinks that much makes sense, and Jisung swallows. No one seems to notice, though, and he's glad. He just wants to be with his friends for a while, to destress and forget that night and forget school, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards. Somehow he finds his head in Chan's lap as he lays over Changbin's legs, and things are comfortable, good. He's okay, until he suddenly isn't because Chan speaks up.

"Hey, listen Jisung, we've all been kind of keeping quiet because you didn't really seem to want to share, but like..." He runs a hand through his own curls, and anxiety is slamming against Jisung's ribcage, "Why did you two break up? I don't wanna say you're exactly different since, because you're not, but you just...Seem a little distant, like it's harder to reach you."

He is silent. Jisung has a few options, he's aware of that much- He can simply say he doesn't want to talk about it, and he's sure his two closest friends will let it go. He can lie, tell them that they argued and that there's just too many differences to reconcile, and they'll understand. Or...Or Jisung can say what happened. It's a bit of a scary thought, but at the same time, he's drawn to it, like a moth a flame. Jisung wonders if he finally talks about it, will that make the damned buzzing go away? It's like a bee stuck against a window, stupidly wandering around for a bit as it tries to find the exit before it resorts to hitting the same place over and over. Then it wanders over the same area again, before it hits the window once more. The cycle doesn't stop, and he thinks maybe telling Changbin and Chan might make it stop. It bothers him so, so much but the thought of speaking what's on his mind? He doesn't know if he can really do it. He doesn't want to see their faces when they hear what he has to say, and he doesn't want to know what they'll say in return. What if they say he's wrong? That she didn't do anything that warranted breaking up with her and feeling sick in her presence? He's not sure he's equipped to deal with that. Jisung's scared.

But he wanted Chan so, so many times, to be there to comfort him, and Chan is here, waiting, and even better so is Changbin. Two of his dearest friends, waiting to listen. Jisung swallows and sits up- He doesn't want to lay on them anymore, but as he grabs one of the rolling chairs he does not miss their worried exchange of looks either. Fuck. The bruises still there are pulsing again, their ache feeling bone-deep. Jisung thinks, maybe, if he doesn't say it now then he never will, and he'll have to live with that confusion for the rest of his life. Never knowing. That- That has to be worse than whatever words they'll say to him.

"I, uh. Well, we sort of..." The words don't want to come out, but the weight is so heavy on his tongue. Just as heavy as she was on top of him. He flinches when he remembers the way her hair fell into her face, but of course they don't know what he's flinching over. It probably worries them more. Jisung's not sure how to describe the expression Changbin is making, yet it's hard to look at, "She wanted to have sex."

A pause. A long one. Slowly, Chan says,

"Okay. And...?"

"I didn't," He lets it sit there for a moment, but that's not enough, Jisung knows that doesn't at all cover what he's trying to say. The buzzing is so intense and it's like there's an earthquake but he's completely still where he's curled up on the rolling chair and so is the world around him, "But...We did. But I, I didn't want to? And she knew that. So yeah."

He bites his lip so, so hard. Jisung can't look at them, he can't fucking look at them ever again actually. It's even more uncomfortable than he imagined, each word choppy and half-mumbled. Jisung's cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he tries to swallow but he just can't manage it. He has no idea how long they're there before Changbin speaks up, it could have been a couple of seconds, or it could have been minutes. Hell, maybe an hour has passed or this is all some terrible dream, but his hyung's voice is so raw with emotion when he talks.

"Sung. You had sex but you didn't want to?" Jisung nods, a quick jerk of his head, but that's really all he can manage. Oh God, the nausea is back, and he feels unwell. It's mortifying, embarrassing doesn't even cover it. He hates this, "When you say she knew, do you mean like...You told her no? But she made you do it anyway?"

"I- Yeah, I said no. I said it a lot, actually, but she-" He cuts himself off, shuts his eyes, and buries them in his knees. Jisung can't fathom why he told them. He wishes more than anything he kept his dumb mouth shut. It's already too much to bear. They're sitting and looking at him and he just...He can't fucking do that. Jisung literally wants to disappear. Even as he's curled up there, he recalls the wet feeling of her open mouth against the skin of his chest, painting him in the remnants of lipstick and the marks of her teeth. Jisung shivers. It's so wrong, he feels so bad. Bad can't start to describe it, but that's what he thinks of. It all feels bad. God, it's a childish word. He hates it. He hates the silence that won't cover up the buzzing, "Sorry, hyungs. I'm sorry, it's stupid, I shouldn't have said anything. Sorry."

"Jisung," Chan says seriously, and he reaches towards him. His hand stutters in the air though, and Jisung winces. Whatever the older sees in that action, he doesn't know, but the hand just stays in the air. It's not like Chan needs it anyway, he already has Jisung's attention, "You know that's rape, right? That's not just sex."

Jisung starts to cry. It sounds ugly, and loud, and not at all like him but he knows it is. Every muscle in his body is tense, he hurts all over again and the tears are so, so hot when they drip down his cheeks in long tracks. He's not sobbing so much as whining, and he wraps his arms tighter around his knees. But then Chan is there, hesitating for just a moment before he runs his fingers through Jisung's bangs. They're already wet from his sweat and tears, but Chan hyung doesn't seem to care in the slightest. He says things that Jisung can't hear over the buzzing, and he tries to blink the tears away long enough to look at Changbin's face. The expression is so pulled, so twisted and agonized that he wishes he hadn't looked in the first place. It's almost as lost as Jisung feels, but that makes him panic because what if they don't believe him? What if they are like her? Sure, Chan hyung just said...He said rape, he said it is what Jisung's been thinking it is, but what if that's not what he meant? What is he's misheard, mixed it all up in his head? Jisung's always confused now anyway, so that wouldn't be a surprise. He's terrified they don't really believe him, so he makes himself keep speaking.

"I, I said no after she took off my shirt. I said that was enough, right? Making out, that's normal. That's whatever. But- But she kept going," God, Changbin looks so horrified but he can't shut up, "I said no. I said stop, and to not touch me. I swear, I said it so many times hyung. I really did."

"Jisung," Chan's voice cracks when he says his name.

"I said it when she put her hands all over my chest, and when she rubbed herself all over me, and when she undid my pants and when she fucking touched me," His words lose any of their anxious strength at that point, the last two hardly whispers. Jisung cannot control his body's trembling at all. He's saying all of this but he's still crying like a fool, and his own words are making him curl up more. Telling them is pretty much as horrifying as he's imagined the past while, "I said no, I promise. I promise."

"We believe you," Chan soothes. His voice is suddenly steadier than before, and it shocks Jisung, "We believe you Sung, don't think that we don't."

"It wasn't your fault," Changbin blurts out, speaking for the first time in what feels like too long. Hearing that phrase hits Jisung like a bullet, and he cries a little louder, harder but just barely so. He thinks that's what he wants to hear, but he just doesn't know which alternative is better anymore. He wishes it hadn't happened in the first place, so he doesn't have to be so damn confused. But Changbin hyung makes it sound so simple, and Jisung uncurls from his place on the chair just so he can launch himself into the space beside the older, grasping onto his sleeve tightly enough to strain his wrist uncomfortably. He presses his forehead against the arm, and it reminds him of being at Minho's house the night after. It's a violent whiplash, and he gasps. He really, truly hates the confusion and embarrassment. Nothing feels right. But then he realizes that Changbin is trying to formulate a cohesive thought, and he clings to the words, "Can we- Is it okay, to touch you? Is that fine?"

And Jisung nods, because that's about the only thing that feels even close to fine right about then. Chan's strong voice quietly announces that he's going to sit right behind him, and tells him again when he's going to reach over Jisung. He's giving Jisung the time and opportunity to tell him no, that he isn't comfortable, even in this state he can see that much- Fuck, he doesn't even know how to respond to that. He's caught somewhere between grateful and mortified and he just keeps crying. He can't stop, nor can he think of anything else he can do at a time like this. The buzzing is so loud until he finds himself being held on both sides, one by Chan and the other Changbin. His hyungs are there, protecting him, a shield for the time being. They let him cry and repeat it hurt, it hurt until they're both crying with him, Changbin hiding it in Jisung's shoulder and Chan just gnawing on his bottom lip. His face feels so sticky and gross with sweat and snot and tears, and that's just another terrible reminder of two weeks ago.

"It...It has to be her fault, right?" His voice doesn't sound like his own. It's too hoarse and exhausted and horrible to be Jisung's, but somehow it's his? He wishes he knew how to fix it, "It's supposed to be simple. But we were dating, so was I allowed to say no?"

"You are always allowed to say no," Chan says. His nose sounds stuffy from crying, and Jisung wants to hand him a tissue but they're so far away from this warm embrace. He's not willing to leave it, "Consent isn't just...There for someone to have, even if you're together. You need to give it, but you expressly took it away. That's when good people who respect you stop, Sung. When they don't, it's their fault."

So many arguments are on the tip of his tongue, but he can't manage to word a single one of them. Chan hyung looks so damn sure of himself and Changbin is agreeing and Jisung's tired, and he tells them that.

"Sleep, Sung, we'll be here when you wake up. We love you, so much, okay?" That's what Chan says.

And they are there when Jisung wakes up. He recognizes Chan's calloused fingers as they brush against his cheek and hair, he recognizes the sound of Changbin speaking even if he can't quite make out the words. Jisung's so comfortable, more comfortable than he's been in days probably. This is familiar to him, they've slept on this couch together before, especially on weekends. It's pleasant, and he snuggles his face closer into Changbin's arm. The older laughs and leans his head down so it rests atop Jisung's. He smiles when he hears Chan coo at them, and for that moment he feels good. What happened before he fell asleep isn't on Jisung's mind, he just sort of assumes they fell asleep working on music together again until there's something that bothers him. He frowns for just a moment, moving his feet a little as he tries to figure out what's wrong. And then-

Deep inside him, there's buzzing, and he snaps to reality.

Jisung told them. He really, honest-to-God, told his two friends what happened. Well, sort of- He told them bits and pieces of his side, which in the grand scheme of things doesn't actually seem that important. People, people say there's three sides to every story, right? "His side, her side, and the truth." He knows he's heard that before, many times. So to Jisung, he was scared and hurt and said no and cried and stuff, but like...That probably looked different to her, right? So then there was whatever she saw, and then there was the truth. Jisung still can't find the truth, even though he's trying really hard to. He breathes deeply, hoping that the hyungs won't catch onto the fact that he's upsetting himself over nothing. He's okay, most of the time. Victims aren't supposed to be okay, so he can't be one even if Chan said so. Because Chan doesn't know the full story. He lacks facts, he only has the shame-coated words Jisung managed to spit out. He wants to think she did something wrong, but he worries that's insulting to people who have actually been hurt in such a way.

But there's the large part of him that's insisting that what happened in her pink bedroom was bad, and should never have happened. Chan hyung and Changbin hyng said he took away his consent. That makes it rape. Yet the older two don't know about him just laying there and not doing a thing about it, and they don't know that he doesn't act like people are supposed to after. When he told them, Jisung did it hoping that it would make things clearer for him, that the confusion and fear would go away. It's actually worse, a much more present thought than before.

"Jisung," Chan starts quietly, with a serious tone that puts him on edge. He can't handle any more layers to this right now, but he can't force himself to cut the other off either, "We need to ask some important questions, okay?"

"If they're too uncomfortable, you don't have to answer," Changbin reassures and clears his throat. It occurs to him that they probably talked about him the whole time he was sleeping, and that feels terrible. He doesn't like knowing that they probably did all sorts of research and thought a whole bunch of things about him. It makes Jisung shiver, but he nods anyway, because these are his lifelong friends. He...He trusts them, the same as always. He trusts them because even though he trusted the person who made those marks and said terrible things to him, Jisung knows they're different. Changbin and Chan will listen. They always have, so he's confident in that at least. So he swallows, and he waits for someone to say something.

"Did you tell anyone else?" Chan asks.

"No- God no," It seems absurd that he even asked, but then Jisung remembers going to Minho's house the next day and nearly telling him everything, and he realizes that maybe, at the very start, he was more forgiving to himself than he is now. He remembers being certain that she did wrong, instead of trying to justify things. Jisung doesn't know what to think of that, so he just doesn't.

"Is there anyone else you want to tell? You don't have to, it can be just between us three, Sung," Changbin is chewing on his lip, and Jisung looks away, "But you can tell an adult, like your parents, if you wanted to- If you thought it would help. Or the others. Even just some of the others, but it can just be us. It's entirely up to you, Sung, we'll support whatever you decide. But before you decide, uh, you should think, about how telling us made you feel."

How did telling them make Jisung feel? Instinctively, he wants to answer awful. He wants to say that it was a mistake and that he should never have done it, and part of him thinks that for sure. But at the same time, the buzzing is quieter. It's easier to push to the side again, it doesn't hurt him like it did back when she took him to the courtyard. That's what he wanted out of telling his hyungs, that and to decide what to call that Saturday night. Jisung thinks of when he grasped Minho's small hand, looked into his unaware but oh-so-comforting eyes, and how much the words pressed against his teeth and lips so they would come out. He considers when he was at Felix's place for a project and it almost slipped off his tongue when Felix asked why he was making such a pained face (Laying face-down hurts more than he cares to admit). Jisung bites his bottom lip- That's healed at this point, but when he does it, his fingers clench and he stops almost as soon as he started. What does Jisung want to do? Does he really want all of his friends to know? His parents- That can never happen, he'd sooner die. His family isn't even an option. But his friends, he's wanted to tell them. He knows that they're always there for him, and this feels very much like a time when he needs that.

"Later," Jisung decides, and the one word makes so much tenseness dissipate, "I, I wanna tell the others but not like, right now."

"Of course, Sung. It's all on your timeline," Chan tries to smile but his face is still swollen from crying earlier and his curls are even crazier than normal. Jisung had no idea telling them would affect them so badly, and he wonders briefly if he's selfish. Changbin is so much quieter than usual, and he seems unsure of what to do. He lacks the confidence and naturally bright aura that Jisung knows. Chan is doing that thing he always does, where he acts like the stronghold, as though he can tuck them away and provide a defense all on his own. Like he knows what he's doing even if he's just as scattered as everyone else. Jisung takes the older's hand and entwines their fingers together, squeezing them reassuringly. It earns him a watery look, but Chan hyung takes a deep breath, "Were you hurt? Like, did you need to see a doctor...?"

All he can see are the twin red lines near his nipple and he shivers. They're ugly to look at, "No doctor. There were just...Scratches, and bruises, and they're mostly gone by now. I'm fine."

Chan almost seems to want to argue, but he doesn't and God does that make Jisung grateful. He can't even imagine going to an adult of any kind with this, it just seems crazy to even try. Because Jisung is a teenage boy, and sex is expected of him. Even if he's never really had much more than a passing interest in it, the suggestion's always been that he's supposed to want it and be pleased with it. Even she said that to him. But Jisung did not want to do it and he is anything but pleased with it, and that almost feels shameful to him? He sighs, breath all shaky and warm, and buries himself further into the couch.

Changbin doesn't seem okay, Jisung realizes. He almost looks ill, and it makes him worried. The truth is, Jisung is much more concerned for his friends than himself at the moment- He's been trying to work through and deal with this for weeks, but this is entirely new territory for them as far as he knows. It feels selfish. He didn't ask them if they were willing to be the first people he told, he didn't ask them if they were okay with hearing more, he only shoved it on them in his panicked search for some sense of relief. The guilt is overwhelming and Jisung makes himself smaller. He holds on tighter to Chan's hand and just tries to exist for a moment, but the buzzing...It won't let him.

The internet tells him he should consider himself a survivor, but Jisung doesn't think he's survived through anything. He's gone through something, yeah, but he still can't decide what that something is and surviving sounds so...Dramatic. Jisung's life wasn't threatened once, he was never in danger. Right? He supposes that depends on what you define "danger" as, actually. But how could Jisung possibly have been in danger when he fully had the ability to take control of the situation whenever he wished? She's not large or threatening at all, he could easily have put a stop to it. Every time he thinks back to that time, he finds so many things that could have gone differently. Strangely, none of them involve her changing her actions and listening to him. But Jisung doesn't share these thoughts with Chan hyung and Changbin hyung, and he doesn't really dwell on it for very long at one time. It's all passing thoughts, like when he's daydreaming in class or about to go to bed. Nothing particularly bothersome- Like before, he feels okay.

It takes a few days before Jisung can bring himself to open up to them again. It's easier to act like he never said anything, especially since they don't press him. They just let Jisung go on how he has been, though they don't know this means staring at his naked body in the mirror and waiting for more marks to fade even though he hears that strange buzzing when he sees them. It sounds morbid, but he's sort of addicted to seeing the injuries disappear- Any injuries, really. He's always carefully watched any cuts and bruises heal over time. Because even though he can't actually see them once they're gone, he can still remember exactly where they were and what they looked like. He's lightly scratching his fingernail against a barely-pink line on his stomach when he decides he wants Minho and Woojin to know next. Jisung's wanted to talk to Minho about it probably longer than he has anyone else, and Woojin is the oldest of all of them. Everyone goes to him for help, and it just feels right to let him know. He thinks they might be able to offer wider perspectives on Saturday night's events than Chan and Changbin can, but he also doesn't think he can say the words to them himself.

He values them, he admires them. Jisung is too anxious to seem like a lost puppy when talking about something so mature, so when he and Chan and Changbin are in the studio he asks for their help. It's nerve wracking when he does it, his foot tapping anxiously because bouncing his whole leg would bother the worst, most stubborn bruises. His mouth goes dry and he remembers when she whispered You're so good for me in his ear. Jisung doesn't know why, when he tries to talk about it, the most sickening memories come to him. It isn't like he doesn't think about what happened when he's alone, but thinking about it near other people is so much worse somehow. Alone, he's free to react however he wants- Though truthfully he doesn't react much beyond a wave of nausea. By himself, Jisung still doesn't feel that different.

Jisung still just feels sad, he thinks.

But he asks for his hyungs help, and they come up with some sort of compromise because really, he just asks them to tell the other two for him. When he did that, Chan's expression faltered and Changbin chewed on his lip anxiously, and after some time Chan explained he didn't feel right sharing such personal information without Jisung present to tell him if he was saying too much or too little. But when Jisung thinks about being next to Chan as he's being talked about, he feels gross. Icky. Jisung doesn't like it, and somehow Changbin creates the solution- He'll invite the two over to his house. His bedroom is right next to the living room, so while Chan explains the bare minimum of Saturday night (Or really, his understanding of it, Jisung thinks. Chan is convinced it's rape, but when Jisung looks up how to tell your friends you were raped, all of the sites speak as if he's a girl and it worries and confuses him more. There's so many reasons he thinks that it might not have been rape, and that's one of them), Changbin and Jisung can sit in the former's bedroom and listen. If at any time Jisung wants Chan to stop talking, he can tell Changbin and hyung will leave and tell him so. It makes sense.

It makes sense, and Jisung feels okay with it. He's even okay when he lays his head on Changbin's shoulder and they watch videos on Youtube while sharing a piece of cheesecake while the oldest three of their friend group talk in the living room. He hardly tenses up at all when Chan says Guys, listen. Jisung asked me to help him tell you something. It's pretty serious, so just let me finish talking before you say anything, okay?, and the buzzing isn't bothering him too much. He feels so ordinary. He isn't meant to feel ordinary. But still, his hand is laying under Changbin's as they balance the slice of cheesecake and the older's phone on their knees. Jisung clumsily manages to get a bite of the treat with his left hand and hardly listens to the conversation outside of the door. He feels his heart beating a little fast, but that doesn't mean anything. He laughs and smiles at the clips he and Changbin watch, and then there's a knock. Changbin silently pauses the video, slides the plate into Jisung's lap, and pads over to his bedroom door. He peeks his head through and talks to whoever is outside, and then looks at Jisung with a solemn face.

"Woojin hyung and Minho hyung want to come in, if that's okay."

"It's your bedroom, dude," Jisung shrugs, his fork crushing part of the dessert. He watches how the filling pushes through the prongs, staying upright for a moment before the three separate sections topple over each other. As he does this, Jisung can smell the snicker doodle scent Minho carries from home every day settle itself beside him. His eyes are focused on the plate, but in his peripheral vision he recognizes Chan and Changbin settling off to the side. Woojin sits crisscrossed with his back against the door, and everything is quiet. It's quiet enough that his buzzing kicks up again, to the point that his mouth almost tastes metallic instead of tangy from the cream cheese in his favorite dessert. He doesn't know if they're exchanging looks or if everyone is just glancing around uncomfortably, but he feels very uncomfortable. It's so different from the way he just broke down to the other two. This was planned and executed and now they're here, at the part none of the three of them discussed because no one knew what would happen. His feet are covered in black socks, and he rubs them together in an attempt to distract himself.

"You know," Minho starts suddenly. His voice reminds Jisung of the way a jewel glitters. It's very pretty, subtle but strong, "I love you very much, Han Jisung, and nothing will ever change that."

"Are you confessing to me because I don't have a girlfriend anymore?" Jisung jokes, even though it's probably in bad taste. He sees Changbin wince out of the corner of his eye, but Minho laughs like a child chasing a ball that's being pushed away by the wind. He feels his lips curl up at the edges, and he looks at his hyung. Minho has his knees drawn to his chest, and he's resting his cheek on them so he can look at Jisung.

"You wish, Sungie, I'm a whole damn catch. But no, you're always gonna be my little babe from childhood, that's just how it is," He feels good when he hears that. It's like there's a little fireplace just warming up his heart, and Minho fearlessly takes his hand and draws little circles onto his palm. For a moment, he almost forgets why everyone is here, looking at him. He just feels content and full. It's nice, to soak in those feelings for a bit, but then he moves his legs and it makes bruises flare up and then he hisses under his breath and he can't forget. The mood shifts a little the moment he expresses even the smallest bit of discomfort, and Jisung tries to look up with a smile. He meets Woojin's eyes, and they're very reminiscent of moonlight-colored water. He can imagine the stone that drops in the middle, and the ripples that ring out. It's encompassing, but soft and forgiving.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Jisung, but I'm glad you told us. I'm here if you ever need someone to listen, and I'll support whatever choices you make," The words I'm sorry seem so small, insignificant considering Woojin is talking to him about his probable-sexual assault, but in fact he clings to them. He's sorry that it happened, too, though he's more sorry that it's making him impose on his friends and rely on them to figure out what's going on. Jisung doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing and scoots closer to Minho. The oldest hums thoughtfully, and offers him a kind smile. It doesn't feel patronizing in the slightest. Woojin really doesn't seem to pity Jisung, none of them do.

"There's like, more I want to say about it, because I haven't said much," Jisung's words are slow and unsure. He doesn't know quite how to word this, "But I want to talk to some of the others about it first, if that doesn't bother you guys?"

"It's all up to you," Woojin gives him some time to continue, but when he doesn't the oldest stretches his arms back with a yawn, "Do you want to talk about something else?"

Jisung nods and they spend the rest of the afternoon watching Youtube and eating reheated pasta since Changbin's parents aren't home from work until late.

Jisung wakes up and stares at his ceiling. For a moment, he swears he can smell hints of a sharp, expensive perfume but it fades just as quickly as it hit him and he narrows his eyes. Shaking arms push him up and support his body weight for a few moments as he observes his bedroom. Jisung's eyes catch on the pale light of his alarm clock- It's about two a.m., and for a brief moment his heart speeds up with panic. He doesn't want to be up too early before school, but the worries are immediately soothed as somewhere in his muddled mind he pulls out the fact that it's still the weekend. His pure cotton Doraemon sheets are clenched in his fists and tries to think about what it was that had woken him up. His arms are still shaking even as he places his hands in his lap and hunches over it. The bedroom is dark, and Jisung sighs. The only clue he has about his dream is the scent of her perfume that lingered on his nose for a moment, but that doesn't mean much. He has a lot of memories of her, mostly good, so for all he knows he was dreaming of their first date.

It's not like he feels particularly fearful at the moment. In fact, he feels rather...Empty? But not quite, it's sort of like he's been hollowed out like a pumpkin to carve but there's still insides clinging, hanging around but still there all the same. Jisung can tell he's feeling things, but he thinks he's too tired to properly identify them. Though tired doesn't seen right either. His body certainly is, but his mind is alive with so many thoughts it's hard to distinguish them. Jisung's mind sometimes gets cluttered like that, and he knows it will be impossible to go back to sleep now. Instead, he slips from his bed and takes short, stumbling steps to the desk pressed against his wall. It's covered in haphazardly-thrown comic books, school papers, accessories- Jisung slides into his rolling chair and flips on his lamp, looking at the mess.

Sitting in the center of his desk is his little daily planner. He went out with Seungmin right before the start of the school year, and the boy had insisted on buying matching ones. He promised it would help Jisung stay organized through all of their classes, and he had actually been right. While Jisung hasn't written down everything the way Seungmin does, he keeps track of his bigger projects in it. For school and 3RACHA both, actually, when they aren't too busy and set deadlines for new lyrics to be done. He drags his fingers down the colorful, smiling sun and can't help but smile back at it. The edges are a little beaten and worn from being thrown in his schoolbag and taken everywhere, but Jisung thinks that's just a sign that the planner is well-loved. He strokes those worn sides for a few moments, and feels very much at peace. It's nice, actually, to sit here with only his desk lamp and the sound of his breathing. He's always been the type to enjoy moments like it.

He leans back in his chair and sighs. His eyes burn when they close, and he knows he's really tired. School has been kicking his ass and he doesn't sleep enough thanks to it, but when his head is filled with so many thoughts it's impossible to quiet down. Then, of course, there's the whole issue with what happened on that Saturday and so he's even more distracted. Honestly, Jisung is still more than confused about a few things. Sometimes, thinking about Saturday makes him feel horrified, scared, but other times he thinks about it and just...Feels like it was something that happened. Like he can look at it without seeming to feel much? Jisung doesn't know what to make of that, the same way he doesn't know what to make of his changing perception on the whole ordeal. He specifically recalls feeling like she wronged him, through the whole night and as he dragged himself home and even the next few days. But every time he looked at one of his friends over the weeks and didn't speak up, he started doubting himself more and more. Even spilling it to his hyungs hasn't made him feel certainty.

Jisung wants to tell the others, too- Well, that's not entirely true, he thinks. He isn't sure he can bear to tell Jeongin. That...That is a whole different ball game, but the rest of his two-thousand friends? He feels like he'll be able to say it more easily to them than his hyungs, and then maybe he can finally confess his fears that it wasn't rape, or sexual assault, or anything like that. Because as much as he wants to talk to the hyungs, he can't help but feel like they might just say whatever will make him feel the best, if making one a victim or survivor or whatever is "the best." He worries they'll just think about his feelings and not the facts.

"Emotions are really stupid," Jisung says to himself, and grabs a packet off of his purple hoodie, because he has a book report due on Monday and he hasn't even started.

Since he does want to tell the two-thousand line, he brings it up when they're all over at Hyunjin's house playing games. It's even easier than he thought, compared to the nerves he felt at the thought of telling Minho and Woojin. Hyunjin and Felix are beating each other with pillows on the former's bed while Seungmin cheers them on from his place on the floor (Jisung finds the way he throws random bits of Hyunjin's laundry at them a little too funny), and he's a ways away from the bed and allowing the disaster to happen. He's smiling and laughing and having a generally good time, but he isn't sure when they're next going to get together and Seungmin's mom is known to come by to pick him up suddenly, so he wants to say it while he has the chance. Felix has the pillow raised above his head, ready to slam it onto a cowering Hyunjin.

"Guys, I think I was raped," The room freezes the instant the words leave his mouth, because they aren't the kind of people to joke about that. He can think of more than a few occasions where all of them, Seungmin in particular, criticized their classmates for making rape jokes. Felix's wide smile drops and yeah, Jisung feels a little guilty about that as the teen sinks back down to the bed. Hyunjin looks absolutely frozen, and Seungmin has his head tilted. He swallows and draws little patterns into the carpeted floor. It's comfortable by the desk, "I told the hyungs already, but I wanted to talk to you. Since, I think you might be more honest with me than them. I know at least Seungminnie won't mince any words."

"This sounds way worse than I want it to," Seungmin frowns, "Because it's not that I don't believe you. But why would you think that?"

"What happened, Sungie?" Felix whispers, sliding off the bed. Hyunjin is laying on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. Jisung can see that the boy's eyes are wet, like he's trying not to cry already and it pulls an affectionate giggle from him as he reaches up to grab the box of tissues he knows resides there. He tosses them to Felix, who already knows to pull one out and reach up for Hyunjin to take.

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, so I'm not gonna say a lot. It's, like, awkward to talk about for me," Seungmin nods encouragingly, and they wait. Again, this feels different from telling the rest of 3RACHA, and different from telling Woojin and Minho. The atmosphere just doesn't compare, he isn't rushed and panicked to convince anyone, he isn't nervous about looking dumb in front of people he values, these are his same-aged friends who are at the exact same point in life as him. He still is really fucking awkward talking about it, because- Jisung wasn't ready for sex, he wasn't comfortable with the idea at all and that is why he told her no. If you can't even talk honestly about it, then you probably shouldn't be participating in it. That's what he was taught growing up, so in his head it makes so much sense to him. But mix that with all his other thoughts and it gets much, much more complicated, "You know I broke up with my girlfriend."

Felix nods.

"That was because- She, uh, we were, you know. Doing stuff, I guess," Jisung tugs at his collar, and finds he can no longer look at his friends. The two scratches are pulsing with heat, and he notices the buzzing inside him again, but the two marks are almost gone so he's pretty sure it's in his head, like that buzzing. Talking about Saturday still fills him with shame, but Jisung can't decide the full reason why, "She, like, took off my shirt. I didn't...Like that. It made me uncomfortable, you know? Her parents were home and I just- I didn't go over to her house for that, yeah? So I told her to stop, maybe later, but I didn't wanna do it at all. But she just told me to be quiet and that she was going to do what she wanted. I kept saying no, but that didn't really matter to her. And then...We had sex. So like, that sounds like rape, right? So I broke up with her."

"Jisung, I think you should breathe a little," Seungmin suggests and he realizes that his breathing has in fact sped up quite a bit while he was talking. Which wasn't in the plans. He rubs his lips together anxiously, and glances up at his friends in worry when he hears Hyunjin sniffle. He's wiping at his eyes with the tissue, and a gnawing starts to eat away at Jisung's insides. He shifts forward, crawling towards the edge of the bed where his friend is. He smiles, and he's glad because it doesn't hurt like it did the day after everything happened. Jisung is more confident than he was when Minho picked him up that day, too. He knows he's not scared of being touched, he knows his ex-girlfriend isn't obsessively texting his friends, he knows he can ignore the buzzing most of the time, he knows he can talk about it even if it's hard. Jisung's learned a lot since then, yet somehow still doesn't have the answers he's looking for. But still, he hugs Hyunjin's upper half and savors the feeling of his friend's warmth. Just like Seungmin suggested, he takes a deep breath in, though Jisung's definitely surprised when it stutters.

Maybe he isn't as calm as he thought.

"Mate, that doesn't just sound like rape to me," Felix speaks unsurely, and his fingers linger on his pulse for a moment before his hand drops back the floor. Jisung's seen him doing the same thing since they first met years ago.

"I just- She, uh, told me later that I don't get to say no? That boys are supposed to shut up and enjoy when a girl wants to sleep with them, and especially since we were dating, you know? But Chan hyung and Changbin hyung already told me that I have to give my consent so like, I get that," Jisung knows his words are a little muffled by Hyunjin's shoulder, but he doesn't have the energy to move. Why is talking about Saturday so damn exhausting? His body is heavy, "But everything...It tells me that rape victims get quieter. Their lives fall apart, they cry all the time and they can't be touched. I mean, I cried while she was doing it and a few times after, but that's all. I'm not quieter than usual I don't think? And I spent the whole next day cuddling Minho hyung, and my life hasn't fallen apart at all. I don't even think about it that much. How can I say it's rape if I'm not acting like it?"

"Fuck what she says, first off," Hyunjin's loud in his ear and Jisung winces, "And second off, you're allowed to feel whatever you're feeling, Jisung. No one gets to tell you otherwise."

"Hyunjin," Seungmin's voice is sharp but softens with the next sentence, "Though I think he needs to take a breath too, Jinnie's right, Sungie. There isn't a textbook way you have to react to anything. Everyone's brains are different. You said you told her no, more than once even. That's more than enough to constitute as rape."

Not according to the law, Jisung finds out, and he finds himself at square one. He's at the park with his back pressed against the rough bark of a tree. The leaves are gone and the branches seem very empty without them, but pretty all the same. It took him a little while, but Jisung realized that being home and near his family is almost unbearable. He feels like they would treat him differently if they knew, but he had never even told them he had a girlfriend in the first place. They probably wouldn't hear anything beyond him having sex with her, and would blame it on him, yet as he sits under the bare tree and shivers and tries to figure things out, Jisung makes the discovery of what Korean law defines as rape, and it certainly isn't what he experienced.

According to law, rape only happens to girls, and reading that makes his long-forgotten nausea return. He pulls his knees up and rests his head on them as he forces himself to take long, measured breaths. Being so wishy-washy is so fucking frustrating to him. Jisung wants to make up his mind, but he doesn't know how to. Every time he finally accepts that, yes, she did something wrong and none of it is his fault, something tells him otherwise. The truth is, being told that he is wrong reminds him of what happened all over again. It smothers him like her purple microfiber sheets did. Jisung is compliant under forceful words the same way he is under forceful hands and just as terrified. He wants nothing more than to make this go away. The others try to act like they don't know, like he hasn't confessed about Saturday. But Minho is the only one who touches him in the same open way, even though he said he was okay with being touched.

He knows that they're just scared of hurting or upsetting him. But Jisung's stupid mind says it's because they blame him the same way he does, even though he's trying so hard not to. It doesn't feel as natural to be with them now, and that really sucks. Because Jisung needs his friends, but when they say they're there for him when and if he wants to talk or needs anything, he can't bring himself to believe it. If it were up to him, he would just cuddle his friends on Jeongin's stupidly comfy floor for the rest of his life, so no one could bother him again. He could just be with the people he loved most, rather than feel sick at the sight of a certain shade of pink or get scared when he sees flashes of her in the school hallways, and it would definitely make the dull buzzing go away.

Jisung is certain of that much, even though it hasn't left once yet. If he could just be shut away from the world and be kept safe and warm by his friends, surely it would let him rest. It wouldn't slam against the window like a bee any longer.

"Jisung?" He startles, and looks up to find Felix standing a bit away from him. His younger sister is holding onto his arm, but Felix urges her on ahead when their eyes meet. Jisung figures he probably looks pretty terrible or something, he hasn't slept well and it's cold out and he's not dressed quite right. Plus he's all sorts of upset over what he read. So Felix's sister leaves them and his friend sits cross-legged across from him and tugs off his gloves. Jisung scrambles to catch them when they're tossed at his face, and Felix laughs at his glare, "Your hands look frozen, mate. Put 'em on. What's up?"

"Thanks," Jisung murmurs as he tugs them on. His eyes dart up nervously, and he notices that he's shaking. Unfortunately, he's pretty sure it's not just the cold and he wants to just die or something. He shouldn't be afraid to talk to Felix about anything, "'Lix, can I like, ask you something?"

"Duh."

"Do you think it can happen to boys?" The weight in his stomach astounds him, actually. It feels like he's swallowed stones, and they're resting at the bottom. Jisung kinda worries they're going to hurt him. It's painful, and his skin feels heavy too. He's just glad that the boy understands him, because he doesn't seem confused in the slightest. Instead, he rubs his now-uncovered hands together and shoves them in his pockets. Felix scoots across the dirt to rest against the tree right by Jisung's side. It's pretty nice to have him there. Felix is an interesting person, because he can be loud and laugh too much and joke around when he should probably be serious, yet at the same time he seems to know what people need. He's still a kid that's afraid of the dark, and gets nervous when people call his name. But he can also be the most compassionate person you've ever met. Jisung loves every side of Felix, he thinks they're all quite worth getting to know, and so he leans his head on Felix's shoulder and sighs, waiting for a reply. He wonders what his friend is going to say.

"It can happen to anybody. Since some people don't understand or don't care about boundaries, respect, consent, all of that- They can do it to anyone. Your gender, or sex, or whatever doesn't have anything to do with it," He tilts his head back, and Jisung presses his forehead into Felix's neck. The skin contact helps soothe the pain in his stomach, and the sounds of rustling fabric catch Jisung's attention more than the stupid buzzing does, "I'm not gonna lie and say I'm an expert here, mate, but I think it's pretty normal to not really...I dunno, believe that it happened? But I'm worried that you're blaming yourself more than trying to believe nothing actually happened."

Felix has a talent of digging straight into the most tender points of a topic. Jisung flinches, and then whimpers a bit as he squeezes his eyes shut, "I didn't...It's not like that. I'm just confused, 'Lix. Everyone and everything is telling me something different. But even by law it's not-"

He cuts himself off. Saying it out loud feels too raw. Jisung can't do that to himself. There are just some things he isn't willing to do, and saying if he tried to get her in trouble for what happened on Saturday that nothing would happen is just too much. She'd probably try to do something bad to him in return, he'd read countless news articles in the past about women trying to bring legal action against their aggressors and being sued for defamation or whatever in return. Women. It was always girls, and that was burned in his mind. He's afraid of what will happen if he tries to place blame on her just as much as he's afraid of taking the blame himself. This is exactly why Jisung prefers to not dwell on it. If he doesn't linger on the topic, he doesn't feel that sense of fear. He knows that the past is supposed to stay in the past, so why does he stubbornly cling to something that hurt him so badly? He's tired of thinking about it, he just keeps going in the same damn circles.

"The law isn't always right. It's the law that sends child abusers to prison for only a couple of months, but the hungry and homeless who stole to survive for a year. It deals with legal definitions that make things easier for courts, it doesn't consider the people using them. If you're looking for answers, you're sure not going to find them in a legal textbook, mate," He lays it out simply like that, so simply Jisung can see why people would believe it. He wants to, to make this his rationale, but at the same time he wonders if he's too damn caught up in it. What does it matter? Jisung was hurt, nothing is going to change that. But...

"Is it wrong to look for validation?" He whispers, "I just want to know it wasn't my fault, but even that sounds terrifying Felix. I hate this. I hate it so much."

"I don't think you're doing anything wrong Jisung. I can't pretend to say I know what it feels like, but I can say that even if we don't get it, we're here, to talk, like this. Don't isolate yourself, we can do this together if you'll let us. It's probably something more like a journey than an instance, I think," When Jisung doesn't reply, Felix offers for him to join him and his sister in collecting pine cones, and he accepts. He doesn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Hey babe!" Minho grins, setting a paper travel cup on the table across from him. Jisung can't help the smile that tugs at his lips as he grabs the drink- Peppermint tea, all a boy could ever need for this time of year. Minho has dyed his hair since they saw each other yesterday- It's now an orange-ish color, and it suits him. It makes his eyes stand out, and as Jisung takes a deep drink of the tea he points to his own hair and gives a thumbs up. The older seems pleased at the reaction, and places a full tray of drinks on the wooden table as well, "You got here so early~ The others should be here soon. Glad we're finally on break?"

"School was fucking killing me," He cheerily responds, thumbing the edge of the plastic lid. He's careful to not slice his finger, a mistake he's made countless times, "Did you pay for all the drinks yourself?"

"Nah, actually, Woojin hyung paid for half. He was weak and had to pee, though, so I left him at the coffee shop. He'll probably be here any minute," Minho seems entirely unconcerned that he's abandoned their friend at a coffee place but honestly, that doesn't shock Jisung in the slightest. If anything, the older seems rather pleased with himself as he sips on his own drink, tilting his head from side-to-side as though he is playing music inside of it. Jisung shakes his head.

"You're such a chaotic gay hyung," The remark earns him a peace sign as Jeongin slides onto the bench next to Minho. The youngest is all smiles as he grabs the cup marked white chocolate mocha and tips it to the two of them before downing his first drink. Jeongin has the habit of showing up out of literally nowhere, to the point where Jisung and Felix sometimes theorize he's either a ghost or a mass-hallucination, so he's quite unconcerned. He watches as Minho's fingers come up to rub the ends of Jeongin's hair between his fingertips, and the atmosphere is comfortable. This area of the town is always quiet. It's like a little courtyard just out of the way, barely-green grass frosted with could-be snow and couple of wooden picnic tables. Jisung's never seen anyone but them here before, and Chan had declared it their district back when they first brought Felix there. It's as familiar to him as the studio, and his own bedroom. Really, it's another home so he doesn't mind that no one speaks. It's not the silence that makes the buzzing inside him louder, it's full of company and companionship.

"You're an asshole and I demand that you give me your firstborn as payment for abandoning me," Is how Woojin announces his presence, and Jisung chokes on his tea. Minho snorts.

"Jeongin is all yours, honeybear," He pets Jeongin's hair when the boy begins to protest, "Just don't expect Channie hyung and I to pay child support."

"Bitch isn't taking my daughter, Minho!" Chan shouts as he sprints across the grass. Jisung notes with amusement that he's out of breath while Changbin hyung and Felix follow him at a leisure pace. The former sits on Jisung's right side and passes Felix his drink. At this point, everyone knows whose is whose. After being friends for so long, you just sort of learn everyone's favorites and that's why they take turns buying drinks for the group if they're not directly gathering at a drinks shop. The system hasn't failed them yet, Jisung thinks happily to himself. He swings his legs underneath the picnic table, wincing when he accidentally kicks Jeongin. However, the teen is much too absorbed in arguing to really notice.

"Yeah, he's taking your fucking son," His bottom lip sticks out in a pout, reaching an arm out for Woojin, "I knew I liked Woojin hyung better. He's a better parent than you two ever were, and that's based on the pure badassery of demanding Minho hyung's firstborn as reparations."

"Bold of you to assume Minho hyung is het enough to have a firstborn?" Felix raises his brow.

"He and Chan hyung had Jeongin already though, 'Lix," Jisung reminds, peering over Changbin to see the teen. He looks pretty cozy and is even wearing a cute flannel hat, which, goals, "The biggest love affair of twenty-gayteen?"

"I'm friends with a bunch of fucking idiots," Changbin says, looking hopelessly at the sky. He covers his smile with his hand as the older continues, "Is no one else concerned that, one, Jeongin just cursed and Woojin hyung hasn't had a heart attack, and two, the rest of the two-thousands aren't here yet?"

"That sounds like you want me to have a heart attack, Changbinnie," Woojin's voice is mild. The boy's words do call Jisung's attention to the lack of Seungmin's and Hyunjin's presence though, and he pouts. Immediately, he twists his body around to check for any signs of the two obnoxiously-tall teenagers, but no matter the direction he looks it's empty. It's not that it worries Jisung, exactly. Those two often are the last to show, because Seungmin's mom is...Well, if Jisung wants to put it kindly she's protective and invested in her son's success. If he's being honest she's possessive and borderline abusive with her controlling nature and pressure. Since Seungmin is always left to the mercy of her will, Hyunjin often waits it out for him. So yeah, Jisung isn't worried, just sad and a little angry but then Woojin's massaging his shoulder comfortingly and he melts into it. Woojin hyung always seems to know when he's stressing himself out too much over things he can't control.

"Hyunjin hyung says they'll be here in five," Jeongin offers, setting his phone down. His words respark the conversation about Woojin gaining full custody of him, and Jisung just lets it flow around him. It's so nice when they're together, he thinks. Nothing makes him happier or safer- But it's that very thought that makes him frown. Since when was safety such an issue for him? Jisung knows the answer, and heat rises on his neck. Thankfully, his scarf covers both that and his surely-deep frown. He shuts his eyes, which feel a little wetter than he wants, and lets the bright smell of his peppermint tea fill his nose. If nothing else, he can blame the stinging tears in his eyes on that. He's being so stupid, she doesn't matter right now, his friends matter right now. Jisung's happy and she and that don't get to ruin it. Jisung takes a deep breath at the same time someone pokes him, and he turns around to find Hyunjin's bright smile.

"I made it!" He claps his hands together.

"You act like that's a big achievement," Seungmin rolls his eyes, nodding hello at everyone. Hyunjin just smiles in that affectionate way, and no one comments on it because they all know that he's doing this for Seungmin's sake and they aren't gonna ruin that. Jisung is glad for their arrival, because it distracts him from, well, that stupid distraction. Besides, he very much misses them- Seven just isn't enough people. If there isn't all nine of them here, Jisung feels like they're missing something. It's sort of like losing a limb, he supposes, "So why is Jeongin suddenly a daughter and since when did Woojin become his dad?"

"Minho just took our kid away from me!" Chan wails dramatically. He very much ignores Minho's pointed glare, and Jisung exchanges amused looks with Hyunjin, "I always knew I should have married Felix instead, he'd have been a better dad to Jeonginnie."

"I was a great father," Minho says reminiscently, eyes glossy, "Sometimes my chaotic gay tendencies just got too out of hand. I had to pay my price."

"I hate these people," Seungmin deadpans and Changbin, for once, taps their paper cups in agreement. Jisung can still find a buzzing in him if he tries, but he finds that he's much more inclined to live in this moment. There's no reason not to.

She talks shit at school, Jisung notices. It started soon after he rejects her in the courtyard. He hears things floating about but he doesn't really pay attention to them, much too preoccupied with his schoolwork and trying to deal with himself. Jisung never had the time to listen in on school rumors and stuff, and his friends generally tried to keep him away from it all. But after coming back from break he starts to hear them. They aren't even really rumors, a lot of them, and they're not all just about about him. It's things like spreading around the fact that he's bisexual, that he's legitimately afraid of something as small as puppets, basically just a bunch of personal stuff he trusted her with with sucks, but whatever. Then it gets worse- Jisung hears things like he's now dating Chan based on the fact that the older is pansexual, which evolves into he was cheating on her through their whole relationship with him. He even learns from a guy in his math class that she suggested he, Chan, and Minho were all messing around and he can't help but laugh at that one. It's not his style nor would Minho ever see him as anything other than his babe.

It doesn't affect him much though, because no one treats him differently based on those things. School is the same, just a few more looks here and there. Jisung doesn't worry about it, he can't afford to. But then it's the day that he's walking with Jeongin from their one shared class to lunch. And Jisung doesn't notice her near him because the hallway is crowded as hell. He clings onto Jeongin's sleeve so they don't get separated and stumbles forward when her voice reaches him.

"...didn't want to sleep with me because he'd rather take it in, y'know," Her voice is loud but her tone is so deceptively conspiratorial and light, like she's telling them just the most shocking thing. Jisung freezes in his spot and even though his gaze is stuck on the floor, he feels how Jeongin's all tensed up. Sure, he doesn't know what she did but the younger does know that they broke up and she's been saying shit and Jisung is ready to cry and vomit all at once. The edges of his vision are tinged with the purple of her microfiber sheets and the scents of expensive perfume and sweat are choking him and he wants to run but he's fucking terrified. He's not sure he's breathing normally.

"Hey," Jeongin's voice is sharp, "Why don't you fucking remind them who you bragged about making out with last year before talking all this homophobic shit? A breakup is a breakup, so grow up and stop already. It's really pathetic and makes you look worse than it does hyung."

He doesn't offer her any more words, not that Jisung really heard what he said. The buzzing is too loud, everything is too in his face, but Jeongin's not smiling and that in itself is enough to drive people away. His arm is an anchor as he quietly coaxes Jisung away, and God does he cling to it. He needs reassurance that he's not trapped in those pink walls and purple sheets, that no one is biting and scratching and moaning and fucking shit, Jisung really is gonna be sick. His head is spinning and he can't even tell where they're going, everything in his body is made up of violent black scribbles and that's painful. One of his hands reaches up and grasps Jeongin's wrist where it rests around his shoulder. Jisung needs this proof, he isn't alone with her. He's with Yang Jeongin, one of his closest friends, that beautiful kid with braces and dimples and stupidly defined cheekbones that are pretty much the opposite of Jisung's own rounded face. He never knew whether to be jealous of that or not. Jisung swallows past the lump in his throat. That, that is a victory if nothing else.

Then his mind registers that he and Jeongin are alone. He's sitting at a table in the eating area in the back of the East wing. No one shows up there because half of the time the school staff decides it's off-limits. A strangled laugh pulls from his lips when he thinks that Jeongin can probably charm them out of any trouble they might get in for being there. The younger boy is sitting right next to him, silent. He feels a thumb stroking his shoulder, and when he blinks, tears slip from his eyes. Jisung doesn't want to cry at school, but at least no one is looking at him do it. It's just the two of them. Before, he didn't want to let Jeongin down, to seem like less of a hyung and less of someone to look up to, but now he feels like if he doesn't say it that he never will. And it's hard when only one of them doesn't know, because he can see and feel the uncertainty of the others when they're worried about him when Jeongin's around. Mostly, Jisung is tired of keeping the secret from someone that makes him feel loved. It's not worth it, so he tries to speak.

"I'm sorry, I know I, I, well-" Jisung presses his knuckles against his closed eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong finally?" He stiffens, but the youngest continues, "It's alright if you don't want to. I know something's been up, but I also sort of got the sense that the hyungs all knew and were taking care of you so I tried not to worry too much. We're all really obvious when we're worrying about each other, you know? But I trusted them, and I do, so it's alright if you can't say it. I'm here anyway, whether I get what's going on or not."

"I want to tell you," He grits out. His teeth hurt. He's clenching them too tightly again, "It's hard, be-because I don't want...Fuck, Jeongin, I, shit, broke up with her, yeah? But it wasn't like a normal breakup. Telling you seems so bad, Innie."

"Take your time, hyung, or give me hints. I'm not dumb, I'm sure I can piece it together," Jeongin's voice itself is soothing. It's like being enveloped in warm bath water. Everything in him can start to loosen up, he can start to unfreeze. He isn't stuck in that Saturday like his mind wants to convince him. That buzzing sound is nothing more than something in his head, Jisung thinks. He likes how blunt Jeongin is with them. It's like Seungmin but a bit more charming. He savors the other's body heat and makes his mouth work again, because he isn't willing to delay this forever. Jisung just can't do that, class will start again soon and their friends will notice their absence at lunch. They might even hear about what happened in the hallway. Oh God, he's not looking forward to that at all, but it also gives him an idea of how he can make himself tell Jeongin without fully saying it.

"What she said, i-in the hallway? It wa-sn't untrue, but that's not why I didn't wanna, Innie," He clings to the younger's uniform, "But she made me. I- Did you know that don't touch me doesn't always make people stop?"

Jeongin is silent. Then, quietly,

"Yeah, actually. I think I learned that a little bit once."

And like that, all of Jisung's friends know. Jeongin promises to tell him when he, too, realized words don't mean a lot to people sometimes, but only if he doesn't tell the others that anything ever happened to the younger teen. It only takes the brief thought of Jeongin telling someone about Jisung's experience even after being asked not to for him to agree to that. The boy is pretty vague, honestly, only saying it didn't get far before someone stopped it. Jeongin says he'll go into more detail later, when he's more comfortable sharing but it's already enough to make Jisung's veins burn in fury and mind run in circles as he tries to figure out how he could have missed that. Then it hits him that, maybe, this is a taste of how the others felt when he spilled to them. He doesn't like it.

He also doesn't like that everyone is just...Under the assumption he did nothing wrong. Jisung knows that's his fault for not being completely honest with them. They have no idea what he did and didn't do in that bedroom, other than say no. It's like, in his head he knows he's been raped, or sexually assaulted, or however the fuck law is willing to let him define it. He really fucking gets that, but then there's that stubborn part that's been clinging since that Saturday. That part of him won't shut up and stop telling him that he needs to stop making himself a victim. That he's just embarrassing himself for crying over it and being so fucking dramatic. But Jisung can't stop the physical recoil every time he sees a flash of her in the hallway, the nausea at certain shades of pink, the buzzing that won't go silent-

Jisung's shower is heating up, and again he finds himself unclothed in front of his mirror. It's a lot different than before, he thinks, because there aren't any marks and his body isn't sore. All physical evidence of Saturday night has gone away, but he can still see it if he closes his eyes and remembers. When he remembers those first few days, Jisung wonders if maybe he was in some state of shock, because excluding a few moments he can only recall really feeling an empty sadness. That sadness has given way to his confusion and fear. Well, no- It's still there, laying beneath his skin. It simply isn't as prominent. Honestly, Jisung still thinks his life is pretty much the same. He still wakes up in the mornings to go to school, he still hangs out with his friends, he still does his homework, he still writes music. He wishes there were more dramatic changes, because then he could point and say this is why it wasn't okay. Deep inside, he knows it wasn't okay. He's just stuck in the same thought pattern of blaming himself because that is much easier than admitting someone you trusted hurt you. Jisung lays his hand on the mirror and sighs.

Felix is probably right. It's more of a journey than an instance. The thought is anything but comforting.

At some point, he realizes he wants to lay it all out. Jisung realizes that he's ready to detail what happened, because keeping it inside isn't helping him. He would like to think that speaking in vague terms and generally beating around the bush every time he talks to his friends about it is super helpful, but it's not enough. Jisung's made a lot of progress by opening up to them about why he's confused and unsure, but he's not sure how much that's actually helping him process what actually happened. Hyunjin said that the fact that he even realized that is a step forward in itself. Jisung supposes that's true, but nonetheless he needs to lay it all out, since otherwise he feels...Trapped. Lonely, despite the people on his side. He knows that no matter what, unless something terrible happens that Jeongin will be the only one able to even remotely understand what this experience is like. His whole life isn't over, nor does it feel like it, but something is just wrong now. Jisung hopes that if he tells them, the world will look a bit less crooked. Sort of like fixing a painting that's hung wrong. He also hopes that it'll make him more open to listening to what they have to say.

But it's not fair for him to just go and say things that they might not be willing to hear, so when he invites them over to his place he makes sure to say that he wants to talk more honestly about Saturday night while they're there- Jisung isn't selfish enough to make them uncomfortable by forcing them to listen. It's not pleasant, obviously, and he expects at least a few of them to say they can't make it when he says that. Instead, Seungmin says he's coming whether his mom tells him yes or not, and none of them others hesitate to say they're gonna be there either. That show of support in itself was enough to bring Jisung to tears as he sat on the edge of his bed, but now it's Friday and everyone's going to start showing up and he's nervous.

Jisung doesn't remember everything that happened, exactly. There's a bit that isn't too clear, probably because of the repetitiveness of it. Other parts are blurry because things were moving too fast for him to keep up with. Jisung hasn't tried to recall everything in order before, it's just been moments so he hopes when he tells it that his story is straight.

Hyunjin and Seungmin surprise him by showing up first, with the gift of chips and bubble tea.

"My mom was bitching so I just sort of walked out," Seungmin says with a shrug as he takes off his shoes, "Jinnie was on his way to buy snacks so I met up with him. Do you have any idea if anyone else is bringing anything?"

He walks into the kitchen with the food, and Jisung exchanges glances with Hyunjin- The teenager's expression has dropped from it's cheerful, greeting smile to something much more fearful, full of worry and and terror, and Jisung grasps his arm just above his elbow comfortingly as they follow the younger to his kitchen. They both know Seungmin will pay dearly for that action later, though Jisung isn't sure just how. He wonders how the boy even managed to do that, because he's always just shut up and listened before. He has no idea what was enough to make him finally stand up for himself, but there's still a flare of pride as warm as a fireplace through the concern, and that's what gets him to stumble over a reply before he's silent for a suspiciously long time.

"No, uh, no idea actually but I've got plenty of stuff here. Can I have the pink straw?" He asks, smiling as cutely as possible. Seungmin snorts.

"That was for Binnie hyung but feel free, what he doesn't know won't hurt him I guess. Where's your family?" His friend slides him a banana milk tea with strawberry popping pearls, and Jisung doesn't hesitate for a moment before unwrapping his straw and stabbing through the plastic film. Hyunjin is staring at him affectionately, and he hardly has time to brace himself before he finds himself smothered in a hug. Mindlessly, his hand comes up to stroke his hair.

"Hyung is on some sort of study trip and my parents went on vacation for just the two of them. That's why I asked you guys to come over, I was gonna get lonely," Jisung sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, playing with the brightly-colored straw. He feels anxiety in his chest, pushing to be freed. It's obvious they're all trying to play everything cool, push off the inevitable conversation, but it's not like Jisung wants to make their time together awkward or uncomfortable. Like, he sincerely wants his friends here so he's not all alone in this big house again while his family is away. It not exactly a rare occurrence, Jisung just also happens to have another thing to talk about while his closest friends are gathered. He wishes everyone would show up so he could get it over with and they could all watch a Disney movie or something. That sounds much more preferable than this waiting game. A sigh breaks from his lips and Hyunjin pulls out of their hug, looking him over for a moment.

"Did you even sleep last night? Your eye bags have been crazy today, dude."

"...I may or may not have stayed up until four a.m. rewatching the first season of Pokémon."

"What the fuck?" Seungmin's expression drips with incredulity, "Where did you even find that? Actually, no- Just go nap for a while, you definitely need it."

"But the others-"

"We can let them in," Hyunjin reassures, "Seriously, you look like a dead man walking. Nap, for us?"

Jisung's too weak to say no to Hyunjin's and Seungmin's puppy dog eyes combined.

"Stop touching his feet, I told you you're gonna wake him up dumbass," Jisung wakes up to Changbin's annoyed tone at the bottom of his bed. For a moment, he's insanely confused until he feels a back press against his, well, feet. Which isn't what he expects but he's tired and his face is buried in a pillow, no one's really seen he's awake, so he thinks that maybe he can just slip back into sleep. Whoever is laying on the end of his bed is really of no concern to him when he could be napping more.

"Babe, I know you're awake," Minho's voice is rich with amusement and pretty close to his head, and Jisung groans, opening one eye just a little bit so he can glare at his friend. The older is entirely unapologetic at having ruined his chances of getting to nap more, and instead he reaches forward to pat Jisung's head. His hand is uncomfortably sweaty and Jisung groans, shifting in his bed. This is completely unfair, and his mattress dares to squeak as he moves. It's no wonder his body is achey half the time, when it sleeps on something this old, but also Jisung is pretty sure he's just trying to find something to complain about. Minho pokes his cheek, "Careful, Felix is at your feet even though Changbin told him not too and hasn't stopped bitching since. But I'm pretty sure he's just jealous Felix prefers your feet over his lap."

"I'm rejecting all of Changbin hyung's affection after he threw away my history paper," Felix mumbles. His voice is muffled by blankets.

"It was an accident!" He whines, and Jisung sits up just in time for him to weakly hit Felix's calf. It brings a smile to his lips, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. Nervous eyes flit around the room- Everyone's there and the sun has already set. Chan is furiously smashing buttons on his old DS like there's no tomorrow, and Jeongin is technically doing the same but with a lot more composure. Jisung's not sure what game they're playing, but he's pretty certain the youngest is winning. Seungmin is peering over his shoulder, probably whispering advice, while Woojin and Hyunjin do some sort of homework together by his bedroom door. It's ordinary and like any other day, but Jisung's aware he's gonna make it a not-so-much normal day. He doesn't want to make his friends sad, that honestly feels like the worst part to him. Because they love him, and he was hurt, and that hurts them. He thinks if it would just hurt him, then it wouldn't be so sad, but the fact that it affects the people he loves too...He hates that. But Jisung shoves it to the side for just a moment so he can hug Felix and pretend like he's not scared. The other doesn't react, just continues his squabbling with Changbin, and he's thankful. He really can't stand to wait for much longer, the anticipation and anxiety are killing him, but he doesn't want to interrupt the game the other two are playing. Fortunately, he quickly hears Jeongin's cheers after winning the game and speaks up.

"Guys? Can I, uh, get this over with so we can order dinner and watch movies?" He's surprised at how strong and normal his voice is, but certainly not at how the buzzing inside of him seems to get louder again. His heart beats loudly enough to compete with it though, and it hurts him a little. Any of the positive energy in his bedroom dies in that moment, but immediately Woojin and Hyunjin begin to shuffle and move their papers, Chan and Jeongin set aside their games and even as Jisung slides off his bed, the nine of them form their little circle they always do when they're talking about something serious. He holds a pillow in his lap, picking at loose threads so he doesn't have to look anyone in the eyes. He has no idea how this is going to go. Jisung isn't even sure he can do this now. He thought he could, but now that he's here it feels a lot fucking scarier. He doesn't know if he can really, physically force himself to speak the words he wants to. His mouth is dry.

"It's all on your time, Sung," Chan reminds.

"I don't know where to fucking start," Jisung confesses, pulling his knees up so the pillow is pressed closely to his abdomen. One hand is pressing against his jaw, pulling his face strangely so that way it doesn't frown. He thinks he'll dissolve into frustrated tears if he can't manage to do this.

"You could start with when you went over to her house?" He looks at Woojin, but the older's gaze is fixed on the ground as he pushes at it. Jisung figures he's anxious, too, "Or when things started moving in an uncomfortable direction for you? It's really whatever you think is best."

"When I went to her house...I think I can do that," No one else offers any words, and Jisung's eyes slip shut. God, this is really it. He's honestly going to sit here and tell his friends every detail he can manage about the single worst experience of his life, the time where he felt absolutely terrified and alone and so, so hurt. The thing that's made this buzzing like a bee go on inside of him for so long. It sounds awful, but he wants this more than anything so Jisung opens his mouth and speaks.

When she opens her door, it's like Jisung is in another world. He doesn't have the smallest house, no, but it's also not in the best condition and he knows where his family stands financially. She's worlds ahead of him, but welcomes him with a smile and a house that smells like lemon wood polish. He smiles when he sees her, and leans against the frame of her front door, "What, you're not gonna invite me in?"

"Do I even have to anymore?" She rolls her eyes and steps to the side, "By all means, Han Jisung, I welcome you to my humble abode. Please, make yourself at home while I prepare some tea."

"Was today that bad?" Rather than being hurt, Jisung's actually pretty worried- She's never so sarcastic unless something is stressing her out, so when he steps in he grasps her hand and rubs comforting circles into it. Her smile in return is worth it, bright and pretty and the reason he ever noticed her in the first place. It's the kind that steals the room's attention and breath. She leans into him, smelling of sharp expensive perfume that drowns out the fake lemon. Jisung runs his fingers through her hair for a moment as they stand just inside the entrance. He knows he isn't the biggest person around, but she still somehow fits almost perfectly in his arms and Jisung really likes it. He likes being with her. He likes hearing her laugh and seeing her expression when she's concentrating, and a bunch of other stupidly-romantic things like that. He can't help it, she just makes him feel like that and he's not gonna complain, no matter how much material it gives his friends to tease him with. It's totally worth it, he thinks, as he pulls back to give her a questioning look in hopes of getting an answer.

"You don't even know, Jisung-ah. I really hate, ugh, everyone, you know?" Well, Jisung generally likes everyone so not really but he sticks his lower lip out in an over exaggerated pout, clinging onto her shoulder.

"Even me?" He asks. She shakes her head and breathes out an amused sigh, pecking his lips quickly before inclining her head.

"Of course not, dummy. Come on, my parents wanted to say hi to you when you got here," She walks ahead of him and he can't help but admire how stunning her appearance is no matter where he looks at her from. She just makes his heart race and his insides mushy and he can hardly stand it. When Jisung spends time with her, he feels...Pleasant. His mind dizzies a bit and the world looks a little brighter. His fingers tug at the hem of his red-and-blue sweater when she turns around, a laugh on her lips. She waves her hand, "Come on Jisung-ah! It's not like it's the first time. Let's get it over with so we can hang out."

They do say hello to her parents, and they do just hang out for quite a while. It's fun, to cuddle on her couch and watch sappy romance movies, to be invited and go out with her parents to get something for dinner- They even pick a place that Jisung would go to again, which doesn't happen often because his taste in food doesn't match her family's at all. Normally that's something they laugh over, but her parents had been so excited to show him this restaurant, and it didn't disappoint. It's fun when they return home and she asks him to bake cupcakes with her and they do that until late, playing music and dancing in the kitchen while they're in the oven. It's fun to complain about homework and talk about what they've been doing with their friends, and it's fun when she swipes frosting onto Jisung's cheek and when he flicks powdered sugar at her in return. It's stereotypical, he thinks with a blush, but he really really likes it all the same. Even when the cupcakes are abandoned half-frosted on the counter as she grabs him by his shirt and presses their lips together.

The kiss is more on the sensual side from the start, bodies pressed closely to each other. He wraps his arms around her and lets her bury her hands in his hair, and Jisung hardly notices that she's moving them away from the kitchen and to her bedroom until they reach the stairs. She parts from him with a mischievous smile, lacing their fingers together and pulling him up the stairs. It's not his first time in her room, not even at this time of night, so Jisung doesn't hesitate to follow. She shuts the door quietly behind them while he walks further into the room, looking at the clean floors and pink walls he knows well. Her sheets are a nice shade of purple, though he distinctly remembers her complaining that they were microfiber and wanting to buy different ones soon. That could make a good present, he's musing when she lightly pushes his shoulder in the direction of the bed. Jisung's heart beats a little fast when they sit on it and she kisses him again.

It's messy, the kind he thinks one would expect from teenagers with open mouths and clashing tongues. Her hands slip under his shirt and are cold against his heated skin, and his own wander up her back and skim over her arms. Jisung is drowning in everything that's her, from her long nails to her expensive perfume and body that fits against his, and he's getting uncomfortably warm in his sweater but he can't care because she's straddling his lap and clinging to him like no one else exists. Jisung doesn't think much of her hands when they rest on his hips for a moment, but it catches his attention when she starts to pull at the hem of his sweater. His heart stutters in a bit less pleasant way and he moves back a little, their lips making a sound when he interrupts their kiss.

"I, uh-" She shushes him lightly, mirth dancing in her eyes and Jisung's shoulders tense a bit as she pushes it up higher, but really, who is he to stop her? His top is raised higher until he takes weight off his arms, allowing her to finish taking it off. Her eyes roam across his bare torso for a few moments and Jisung feels his cheeks flush- He's not unfit, but he's also not boasting rock-hard abs. His muscle is lean and his body thin, but she doesn't seem to mind when she bites her bottom lip and reaches behind her to undo the button on the back of her shirt. Her gaze is strong even though she removes her thin, sheer shirt with a soft grace. Soon it's out of the way and she's left in her white lace bra. Jisung swallows but she doesn't hesitate to lean forward again and approach him with another opened-mouthed kiss. The feeling in the pit of his stomach becomes increasingly less pleasant, and he can't help but disconnect their lips, "I, I really think that's enough. I'm sorry, I just-"

"Hush, Jisung-ah, I'm doing you a favor," She laughs, running a hand through his hair. A lump is forming in his throat though, and Jisung shakes his head.

"No, I really don't want to do anything else, I'm sorry," He repeats, but she rolls her eyes and goes for his lips again. Her hands are splayed against his pecks and uncomfortably close to his nipples and Jisung's mind is in panic mode. Her parents are home, he knows that, and he really just doesn't want to go any further. He didn't come to her house to do anything adult, he just came to hang out and his heart is racing in a very, very bad way, "Seriously, no, that's enough. Maybe l-later, or something?"

"Oh, quiet sweetheart, or you'll ruin the mood," Her tone is annoyed, but he can't understand why she's annoyed with him. He really wants to stop, "I'm going to do what I want. I'll take care of you so just be patient, okay?"

Jisung doesn't know how the hell to reply to that, but the next thing he knows he's been pushed to lay on the bed, her purple microfiber sheets lining his vision. His breath is stuck in his throat while her fingernails scratch down his abdomen and her mouth lines his jaw. It feels sort of nice but at the same time Jisung is not willing to do this, and he lightly places his hands on her shoulders, pushing, "Please, stop touching me. I really don't want to do any more right now- Shit-"

Her thumbs sweep lightly over his nipples and she hums against his jaw, "Don't want to do anything alright. Seriously, shut up already and just enjoy it."

He realizes how nauseous he is then, and shakes his head. He doesn't like this. Jisung takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts while she touches every bit of bare skin and whispers things that normally make him blush, duck his head with a shy smile. They just feel wrong, they hurt his ears and he shifts a little bit but he really...Can't move, a lot. She's still straddling Jisung, and her bed feels like it's swallowing him, and the heaviness in his chest is like an impossible weight. He whispers no again but she swallows it with a kiss, this time biting harshly on his bottom lip. It hurts badly enough that he gasps, and the iron taste of blood blossoms on his tongue. His stomach rolls but she does something with her hips that makes him feel good for just a moment before something sharp pierces through it. Jisung hates to say it, but he's pretty sure it's fear. There's no reason he should be afraid of her, but he really thinks he is. Expensive perfume burns his nose and his breathing is all sorts of unstable.

"Please stop, no," Jisung whispers. He doesn't want to be loud, for her parents to walk in on them, but he needs this to stop. Jisung wants to go back to fucking finishing their cupcakes, not this. Forget unstable breathing, he can't breathe at all but he also can't make his arms move from where she left them at his sides. His skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat and Jisung knows he's trembling. But she doesn't answer, she just keeps licking and biting and sucking wherever she sees fit and he lays there. Jisung doesn't know what the hell to do. He hates this, so much.

Hope hits him when she sits up and moves back a little, but it's crushed by the way she leans back down to kiss his hip bone and tug at his shorts. Jisung flinches.

"Fuck, stop, seriously-" He wonders why he's bothering speaking because she clearly isn't interested in listening. His mouth tastes like blood and the tart saliva that fills it right before you vomit, though he's not particularly knowledgeable in that experience. Jisung hopes he's not about to do that, though, because he doesn't think he has the ability to turn and not choke on it right then. He doesn't know how it gets to this point, exactly, but his shorts are missing and his jaw is clenched so tightly he feels his head pulse with an ache. She's still just saying all these nice things to him but he can hardly hear them over the blood rushing in his ears. Jisung's hand finally fucking moves, lays itself on her arm but she moves so it slips off and brushes her breast and he yanks it back quickly. No, moving seems to be a very bad idea he decides, even in the rare moments he finds himself able to do it, "Stop t-touching me."

"Jisung-ah is so pretty," She says it in this grossly breathy voice, one that sends shivers through him.

Then she's unclothed entirely and her fingers are hooked in the waistband of his boxers, "No. N-no, stop, that's en-ough, I said enough-"

Jisung is surprised he still has any voice at all, as squeaky and broken as it is with fear. It feels like when you almost slip off a step- His insides? That painful rush of adrenaline for just a moment, that leaves you gasping for air and your eyes so wide they hurt, too. He feels that but it's not going away, unlike his boxers that she's stripped from his unmoving legs. Jisung's really not fucking struggling, and he feels so stupid for it but he can't do it. He feels completely helpless, there's so many reasons he can't do anything right now. He always thought "paralyzed with fear" could never apply to him, he always has a fight or flight response, he's never been a freeze, but here he is in the most terrifying moment of his life. They're both naked, she's completely taken away everything Jisung's had to protect him, and he whimpers. It sounds so pathetic. He tries to move a hand to cover his groin but she scoffs and grabs it, holding it against the bed.

"You really are that much of a virgin, aren't you? Just chill the fuck out, I already told you I'm going to do what I want but it'll be good for you," He's pretty sure that's supposed to be reassuring, but embarrassingly it just makes the tears he didn't notice building spill from his eyes. They burn almost as much as the scratches all over his body do, but Jisung doesn't actually sob until she brushes her thumb against his stinging bottom lip at the same time she slides the lower half of her body against his. The blood on his lip smears and his heart fucking stops, Jisung really thinks he's going to be sick but she moans and at the same time, he feels sort of physically fulfilled by it as well. He hates how his skin is hot, how somehow her touch is burning in the most disgusting way possible but still, still manages to feel good beneath that. He doesn't understand.

"Stop stop stop stop," Jisung just keeps repeating it because he doesn't know what else he can do when her fingers trail down his stomach and lower. He just doesn't know anymore, because she moves her hand in this way that makes him squirm and tears out these groans between sobs like he enjoys this. Jisung doesn't, he swears. It feels gross and wrong and violating and he's bleeding and that's bad. It's bad. It's bad bad bad bad bad when she decides that she's ready to move on, and Jisung thinks something inside of him breaks when she does. Her nails dig into his arms and she's breathing heavily but he still can't breathe, he's choking on the lump in his throat and on the tears that wet his cheeks. Jisung can't understand why his body is so sensitive to every move she makes, but it also hurts so badly. She isn't careful at all, she's rough and terrifying and their bodies are making these gross noises together.

It's crazy to him that just a while ago, they were baking cupcakes and dancing together in the kitchen. He can't even equate these two people, it seems too unrealistic and yet here he is, living it.

"Pl-please get o-off me, oh my God," It's not the first time he's said that, he doesn't think. It's kinda blurry, "I want t-to go home, l-let me go home-"

"Christ, be quiet and act like a man, Jisung-ah," Her voice is low as she speaks, and a bright pain lights his mind when two of her long nails scratch around his nipple and down his chest. Jisung's eyes lock on her bedroom door. He's acutely aware of how far away it is. It's not like he can just slip away to it and she won't notice, they're touching each other in too many places, he's literally inside of her as much as the thought crawls beneath his skin and burrows into him. Jisung would have to push her off and away, hope he doesn't hurt himself in the process, and then what? Her parents are home, if she makes a big deal they'll walk in and see them and assume very, very wrong things. But he also wouldn't have the time to redress and bolt out of the room, and he can't do it naked. There's so many problems he comes across as he wracks his mind for an escape, but there's one more prominent than any other-

Jisung doesn't want to hurt her. God, he knows he's strong enough to put a stop to this right here and now. He's not weak by any means, he could easily grab her or push her off, but he just fucking can't. He can't imagine doing anything that could possibly hurt her. That feels wrong on so many levels he can't even describe it. So he just lays there, crying, begging for it to end and to go home. His body is feeling so many different things until one overwhelms him, and her lips are back on his in that instant. Jisung's pretty sure she doesn't want her parents to hear. She bites his bottom lip hard enough to split the skin again before she leaves his lips behind and keeps moving.

It feels even worse now, shame just another fucking emotion to add to this mess, not to mention how alive his nerves are. Jisung truly cannot decide how long he lays there, his body hurting in a million different ways, his voice cracking and being ignored, praises he wants no part of filling up his ears, but then she kisses his nose softly and the hands that have been so rough gently pat away his tears. It feels so sweet and something is off inside of his head but he latches onto her voice instead, "You're so good to me, Jisung-ah. I love you."

And then she slips off him, leaving a mess on him as she moves to snuggle into Jisung's side. She fits almost perfectly, and her thumb raises one more time to wipe at his tears before she yawns and her eyes slide shut.

Jisung stares at her pink walls, and stares some more, and just keeps staring because nothing makes sense to him. Time passes but he doesn't know how much. She's tucked into his side and sleeping, face as innocent as an angel but when Jisung dares to glance at her it makes his stomach roll over again and he just can't. He really can't, but somehow he finds the strength in those long-forgotten muscles to slowly, carefully pick himself up, mindful of every ache and burn and stretch- God, it's going to be so bad tomorrow, he knows it. Jisung doesn't even want to think about tomorrow, actually, and instead tries to find his clothes on the ground. He's going entirely off of the moonlight streaming through her open curtains, but her floor is clean and it's enough. Putting his clothes back on without making enough noise to wake her is harder than it should be, and Jisung thinks if he hadn't just cried so much he'd burst into tears. But he manages, and he manages to leave her bedroom and go back down the stairs without waking any of the occupants of the house. Jisung finds his phone from where he abandoned it in the kitchen, steps into his shoes, and walks home without even checking the time.

"I-I know some of th-that probably doesn't make sense, I-" Jisung presses his fist against his lips, "I just don't remember all of it."

"That's okay," Minho chokes out, "You told us more than enough, babe. You did well."

Jisung doesn't think he'd call it that. His bedroom really sounds more like a funeral hall or something, Hyunjin is crying loud enough that he worries he's going to lose his voice. The boy is clinging to Changbin, who has a much quieter way of sobbing, a series of choked-off sounds and sniffles as he hides his face in the younger's chest. Pretty much everyone is crying to some extent or another, though you could argue that Seungmin's tears are completely silent and that Minho, Jeongin, and Woojin are simply teary-eyed. Jisung knows that Woojin was definitely crying earlier though, but he won't call him out on it. Felix is holding onto Chan's hand for dear life, pressing them to his mouth while the older buries his face in his free hand. His shoulders are shaking, and Jisung feels guilty. He's the reason for all of this, all these tears because he decided to go and dump it all on his friends. He wishes he knew when to quit.

"Thank you for telling us," Woojin manages, though each word is carefully measured, "I'm really proud of you, Jisung."

"Seriously," Chan sniffles, rubbing at his face. He gives Jisung a watery grin, "You're so fucking strong Jisung, in ways I can't even imagine. You didn't have to tell us, but I'm so glad you trust us enough to, you know? I'm not gonna lie, it's fucking hard to hear, but thank you."

"Y-you're amazing, mate," Felix adds. He can't help but laugh at that, but at the same time, it's still bothering him. The buzzing. It hasn't gone away, and he pulls at his carpet. He doesn't want to make this even worse, Jisung's so exhausted, so drained, but shouldn't he just do it while they're all here? While the focus is on him and the topic so serious? He doesn't think he'll have the courage to bring it up again after this.

"There's something else," Jisung starts carefully, "It's not, like...It doesn't really hurt, but since then something has been bothering me. I, there's this buzzing, almost like a bee. It doesn't leave, ever. Most of the time, I can ignore it but it's still there. It's always there, and when I'm alone or think about what happened, it just gets worse. Sometimes, it gets so loud it almost hurts. But most of the time, it's like...Like I said, a bee. I know it's just inside me, but it bothers me. I don't know what to do."

"That sounds terrible," Seungmin looks horrified, "All this time, that's been happening?"

"...All this time."

Silence fills the room again, and Jisung wonders if now they think he needs to be locked in a mental ward or something, but Jeongin speaks up, "Hyung, I can't say I get that. But I can say that now that we know, we're gonna help you find out how to make it stop. I promise I'll do my best."

The agreements fill the room before Jisung can even react, and he wonders how he ended up with such amazing friends.

He feels more liberated, but Jisung doesn't fool himself into thinking everything is magically alright because he detailed his experience. He still can point out so many places that make the incident his fault, he still can't fool himself into believing it's all her fault, it just doesn't work. He feels pretty exposed, too, because while he wanted to tell them, now his friends know sort of everything and he can't help but wonder what they feel inside when they look at him now. Do they imagine what happened when they see him? Do they imagine his tears and recreate his pleas in their heads? Do they feel shame for him, or disgust towards him? The simple thing for Jisung to do is just ask, but he has a problem with simplicity. So he's in this weird place already, but worst of all, after explaining he realizes something-

"I haven't said her name once," Jisung says to Jeongin as he picks at his salad, "Like, I don't think I've even thought it. She's just...Pronouns to me. That's sort of fucked up, isn't it?"

"I don't think so," Jeongin taps at his cheek as he thinks. They're sitting inside a classroom for lunch, because half their friends are home sick and the rest sort of have lunch detention after freeing the pet turtle from the biology classroom- That was Jeongin's idea, actually, but no one is gonna rat out the youngest and Jisung had bolted fast enough to not get caught. Jeongin didn't want to be out in the sun, so they got their teacher's permission to stay in her class for the period, and so they sat all alone. Jisung's phone is playing a mix of pop songs and showtunes thanks to the number of musicals Woojin forced him to watch clips of on Youtube, and he feels rather calm, if not annoyed with himself again. But Jeongin's presence keeps the buzzing dull and the boy himself is just nice to be around. Jisung hates that he understands a bit of what it's like, but it's also comforting that he isn't entirely alone in it. Perhaps that's why he's most inclined to listen to him above anyone else. He doesn't really know, "Like, I think her name gives her more human qualities. You have positive associations with her, her name is attached to a person with thoughts, feelings, values, all that, right? But if she's just she and her, then you don't have to think of all the good things you experienced with her."

"You're literally too wise for your age Innie, Felix and I must be right, you're a mass hallucination," Jisung sighs, stabbing a carrot with his fork, "Or maybe you're some sort of celestial being that was beamed to Earth to influence all of us to simultaneously make stupid decisions like free biology classroom turtles and then give us really good advice."

"Or I don't believe in skirting around topics. Take your pick, hyung, but thanks for the compliment," His grin is full of braces and Jisung can't help but feel happier despite the obvious dig his words hold. Jeongin is too precious, too meaningful and Jisung pulls him into a hug and kisses his cheek loudly, even though the younger playfully whines. He laughs, full and bright and he thinks to himself that friendship really is the most important thing he has on this planet. But then Jeongin speaks again, "While it's just the two of us, do you want me to tell you what happened to me? It's not that hard for me to talk about, since it was a while back and not...I mean it was traumatizing but it coulda been worse. I'm okay with telling you but if you think it'll, like, trigger you then I won't."

"I don't- I don't panic or anything when people talk about sex so like? I'm not super sensitive or anything, Jeongin," Jisung can't help the hurt that colors his voice. Is that how he comes off to his friends, then? Weak, can't even handle an honest conversation?

"Didn't say you were, hyung. It's just that hearing about others' experiences can be sort of like reliving your own- Take it from me, I listened to you, right? That reminded me a lot of what happened to me. Just tell me if it gets too uncomfortable, okay?" His cheeks burn, and he can't help but wonder if maybe he is super sensitive or if the thought of something laying their hands on Jeongin against his will just puts him on edge that badly, "Okay, so remember that Day6 concert Seungmin hyung and I went to two years back for his birthday? He really, really wanted to go and I got the tickets and for whatever reason, his mom actually let him. It was before the show started and I had to pee, so I told him I'd be right back. I shouldn't have gone alone, that was stupid, but I went alone anyway even though hyung told me he'd come. So I found the bathrooms, went pee, walked out. All good, right? But then there was this lady, and she grabbed my arm. She asked me something, but it was too loud so I like, leaned closer to hear her and then she...I guess sorta pushed me against the wall? I started feeling like something was off but there were a lot of people and maybe she just got me out of someone's way. I dunno, I tried to rationalize it, I guess."

Jisung feels uncomfortable, for sure. His salad tastes like nothing and his stomach flip-flops and his hands tremble but he doesn't stop Jeongin. It just reminds him of when she pushed him down on the bed. He sort of feels like the crowd at the concert swallowed Jeongin the same way her purple sheets swallowed him. For the younger's part, he seems rather unaffected by his own story. He just talks with this neutral expression, corners of his lips lifting occasionally. Jisung wonders if the day will ever come that he can talk about Saturday as freely as this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"I asked her if there was something I could help her with, and she said a lot and that confused me. Then she started saying stuff about how pretty and young I was? It was so creepy hyung, like she has me pinned against this wall next to a bathroom in this whole sea of people, and no one's noticing or noticing enough to care. And she's saying the weirdest stuff and I'm like, I need to get out of here but there was nowhere to go. I asked her to let go of me but that's when she started to put her hands everywhere. It felt so gross and I, you know, told her to stop touching me, to let me go, I even tried pushing her away but I was pretty much a baby of a teenager and she was a grown woman," Jeongin swallows the rest of his water bottle, "Thankfully, a guy who was walking by stepped in and got her off of me. She yelled about him ruining her fun and that it was totally consensual, but as soon as he threatened to call the police, she booked it. Loser. The guy asked me if there was someone I wanted to call but I just said I wanted to get back to Seungmin hyung. He was so excited, you know? I didn't want to ruin it, so I let him walk me to our section, said thanks, and just sat down again. Seungmin hyung had such a good time, and he was so thankful that I got the tickets, so I couldn't say anything. He deserves the happiness of that memory. I couldn't and still can't ruin it."

He wants to say he can't believe someone would do that. Jisung wants to talk about how it's shocking, the types of people out there. But Jisung's lived that fucking life since that Saturday, and saying something like that would be a lie. So he doesn't say it and instead chokes down another bite of tasteless salad. But something in Jeongin's explanation bothers him, and he can't help but speak up, "You said you were stupid for going to the bathroom alone, but like...That's not your fault, Innie. You shouldn't have to worry about something like that when you're just trying to pee before a stupid concert. That's not right. So you can't blame yourself, you know?"

Jeongin tilts his head, a strange expression on his face, "You shouldn't have to worry about your girlfriend not respecting your boundaries and wishes either, Jisung hyung. That can't be your fault."

Jisung feels like Jeongin may have just played him a bit, but at the same time, he doesn't hate what the other boy suggests, either.

He's not the only one who suggests that, either. He never was, but Jisung is slowly opening his mind to the ideas his friends present. Before, he's always heard them but let it all pass over, because they don't know everything. But now they do, and they're still saying these things to him and Jisung's pretty sure they mean it all, too. It's a relief, a comfort, to have their support. He doesn't know where he'd be without it, because sure his life isn't that different but he bets it would be if they weren't there. Now Jisung is less afraid of bringing up specific concerns, of actually talking through his feelings. It's not magical. It's not in an instant. He realizes the ability builds up over time and conversations, and that makes sense. Everything has a learning curve, he supposes.

Jisung is in the studio with Changbin when he brings up something that bothers him a lot, "I still felt good, even though I was scared as hell. I even, y'know, and that like...I don't know if it makes me feel more gross or angry but it does. I hate that so much hyung. It's not fair that she just...It was like she had complete control of my body. It wasn't mine. I-it makes, I just-"

He doesn't know how to articulate those emotions, as much as he wants to. Some things are beyond Jisung's vocabulary, even if he does write lyrics in his free time. They're confusing and heavy, and when he focuses on them the buzzing becomes so loud that it's frustrating. His skin is flushed with heat, and he lays his head on the desk, releasing a shaky breath. His fingertips tap on the surface in a lazy rhythm to bring a sort of center to his thoughts. If he can focus on that rather than the anxious beating of his heart, rather than the sweat that drips down the back of his neck, he thinks he can feel calmer. Jisung doesn't want to keep feeling so negative. That's no way to live.

"I hope you know that's not your fault though, Sung. Bodies are made to respond to that, you know? Think about every time you felt anxious. You didn't want your heart to race, but it did it anyway. When you're sad, you don't want to cry but the tears come on along anyway. When you're anticipating something, your foot taps before you even realize it. Sometimes we can't be in control, and that's generally one of those things. Not being able to stop...Not being able to stop the feeling of pleasure doesn't make you lesser. Sometimes I get turned on by things that don't even make sense. Besides, you aren't the only one that's felt good things in that type of experience, we've read those forums together," That's something that he, Changbin, and Chan do together because Jisung's too afraid to do it on his own. They'll squish together on the couch in the studio with Chan's laptop and they scroll through posts on forums made specifically for males who have been hurt like him. Most of the sites are in English, but there are a few Korean. Learning about other people helps, but sometimes it's overwhelming and he needs his friends to tell him when they think he's torturing himself more than helping.

"I know hyung. But that doesn't make the feelings go away."

"I wish I could make it better for you, Sung," Changbin's voice is heavy, "I can't. But you and I both know you belong to yourself, and yourself only. You have every right to be angry with her, but please don't be angry with yourself. I don't...I don't know how to help and it drives me crazy."

"That's not your fault," His hyung gives him a pointed look, and a smile quirks at his lips, "But just talking helps, Changbin hyung. Thank you."

"He's too fucking nice," Jisung hears Hyunjin cry to Woojin one night when they're having a sleepover while doing a group study thing. Seungmin hasn't been allowed to join since he walked out on his mom to go to Jisung's house, so everyone is at Jeongin's but him. At first, he thinks that's who they're talking about when he hears them talking from outside a partially-opened door that leads to the youngest's study. But as he lingers just out of sight, the conversation takes a turn he doesn't expect, "He didn't push her away. Who does that? Woojin hyung, who does that?"

His heart drops lower than he thinks should be possible.

"Hyunjin, you can't say that. That's the same as blaming Jisung for it," Woojin's voice is calm, and Jisung thinks it would be soothing except that he feels like one of his worst fears is coming true right in front of him. His fingers hold onto the corner, desperate for something to ground him because if he doesn't find that center that Minho always tells him about, he thinks he'll crumble. They're really just talking about him behind his back like this, and like- Jisung knows they talk about him when he's not around. That just makes sense. This doesn't just affect him, they probably need support from each other just like he needs it from them, but he doesn't like to dwell on that. He's scared of just what they could be talking about, and now he knows he should be because Hyunjin is just like him. He may not say it to Jisung's face but he thinks it was incredibly weak of him to not push her away. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"I-I'm not though! I'm not ev-even mad at him, it just makes me so fucking sad," Hyunjin weeps, and when Jisung peers over he can see him clinging to Woojin's sweatshirt, "He's too good, h-hyung, he's too good for a-all of this. He didn't want to hurt her when s-she was hurting him. I love Jisung and that makes me so sad, he's too good."

"Jisung, what are you doing?" Chan asks from behind, and Jisung whirls around and hopes his face isn't as miserable as he feels. It seems like it is, though, and the older goes to ask before tilting his head at the sound of Woojin's voice and Jisung knows he's listening in on the conversation. His face burns as he watches Chan's harden for a brief moment, but it softens just as quickly and he sighs. It takes everything in him to not shy away from the hand that comes to run through his hair, because he literally just got caught spying and that's, well, not good. But his friend doesn't seem angry, and his voice is very gentle when he speaks, "Sorry you had to hear that, Sung. You can just head back to Jeongin's bedroom, I'll talk to them and we'll be back in a sec. Okay? Take a couple deep breaths on the way, I promise everything is alright."

Yeah, it really doesn't feel like it because Jisung's hands are fisted in his clothes and his throat is so tight, but he nods jerkily and stumbles back the way he came. His entrance into the youngest's room is bumbling and obvious, he knows he isn't hiding anything but the buzzing, the buzzing is so fucking loud and he ignores the way Felix says his name as he drags himself to his stuff. He can't look up, at any of them, he doesn't even know what they're saying because he can't hear beyond the buzzing. Jisung swallows thickly, shaking hands shoving his papers into folders and forcing those folders into his backpack, but he can't seem to keep a steady grip. Hyunjin thinks it's his fault. He doesn't even know how to process that. Hyunjin thinks it's his fault. Jisung wants to puke. Hyunjin thinks it's his fault. Pens tumble from his hands, into the shadow of someone in front of him. He doesn't raise his gaze, he literally just can't even consider it. It's so loud. The buzzing was never this loud before. He needs to leave. Go. He has to.

"Jisung," Minho's voice breaks through the haze, just a bit, "Jisung. Babe."

He finally drags his eyes up, and they meet the older's. They're steady, they make warmth flood through him and-

"Fuck school. Do you want to cuddle instead?" This is painfully familiar, but Jisung can't help but nod and Minho kneels down, wrapping his arms around his trembling body. He clings to the boy's hoodie, melting into the embrace, "My poor Sungie, hyung's got you, everything is okay."

The door opens again, and his eyes dart to it. Chan's expression is bad again, the scary stern face he makes when he's upset with people, but he sees Jisung and again, he does that thing where he smiles and shows a dimple and he feels a rush of reassurance. He fully enters the room, but that means Woojin and Hyunjin follow after and it physically pains Jisung to see the latter's swollen eyes and the way he plays with the edge of his striped shirt. His grip on Minho tightens, and his friend glances back to see what's going on. It's clear he's confused when he sees the other three, and then Hyunjin sniffles and rubs a hand over his face and then his expression shatters like it's made of glass. Woojin rubs a hand on the boy's back, but he's a sorry sight as well. Felix apparently decides he's going to bite the bullet, because his voice rings through the room.

"Mates, what the fuck?"

"I'm sorry Jisung," Hyunjin bursts out. He's crying again, "I'm sorry, that m-must have sounded so ba-bad, but I promise you did nothing wrong. S-Sungie, I'm sorry-"

"I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry for not doing any- Ngh, anything, a-and making you all so s-sad," Jisung counters, because that's what's fucking hurting him the most. Above all, he just can't quietly accept the fact that his friends have cried and agonized for him. They don't deserve that, all because he didn't push her off of him and leave. All because he didn't make her stop. Minho's fingers are massaging into his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, but it's not like Jisung is crying. He doesn't need to cry, he needs to just fucking apologize for every terrible thing he's made his friends feel by forcing them to go through this ordeal with him. They're dealing with this on top of the stress of family and school, not to mention Seungmin is always at the front of their minds because they hardly see him anymore and he seems so tired. God, thinking of Seungmin makes it even worse because when they do see each other in school the younger is always more concerned about Jisung and that's not fair. He's taken up too much of the attention and worries that should be dedicated to him instead.

"No Jisung hyung, wait," Jeongin pipes up, "We talked about this. Not your fault."

"Hyunjin didn't mean it in a bad way," Woojin tries to explain. He sounds and looks exhausted, "He just hates to see you hurt. I'm sorry, we should never have talked behind your back like that. That's on us."

"Wait, hold on-" Changbin interrupts, "Jisung, you don't make us sad. Dude, no."

"I dragged you into all of this," Jisung says mournfully. He feels Minho's body stiffen in their embrace, and he shuts his eyes. When he admits all of this, his friends are going to realize why they shouldn't even bother trying to help him deal with things. They'll probably leave him and never bother with him again, and he's going to have to live with that. He'll...He'll manage. Sure, that means the buzzing inside will probably always be loud, but Jisung's friends have given him enough tools to keep going by himself. He has forums to read and post on if he needs to, he has the journal Seungmin gifted him where he tries to describe why certain things make him feel unsettled, Jisung generally doesn't struggle much so he thinks he'll be okay. He'll be lonely, but they'll be happier and he'll be okay, "I told you things that made you cry and made you upset, none of that would have happened if I kept my mouth shut. I'm sorry."

"Jisung," Chan sighs, "Buddy, listen. You don't make me sad. You never have. You make me so, so happy. I'm lucky to have a friend like you, you know that? What does make me sad is that something bad happened to you, and that I couldn't have done anything to stop it. But you know what? I know that stopping it was never something I could do. I know that's not possible, and I have to accept that. What I can do is be here for you though, no matter what, and you know why I can do that? Because you opened up to me, Sung. I'm proud and grateful that you did. I'm happy that you're giving me the chance to be the kind of friend I want to be. It doesn't make me sad that you told me. It makes me happy, it makes me feel loved and trusted and like you value me."

"You're not a burden or anything, babe," Minho whispers, "I know you can't just make yourself feel a certain way, but seriously. We love you Sungie, nothing will change that."

"I'm really, really sorry," Hyunjin repeats, "Sungie, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. You're just so precious to me, and that's why I'll go through anything for you. You're one of my closest friends- The people in this room, and Seungmin? You all are worth anything. I promise, I don't blame you for anything. Ever."

"Thank you for letting us help you," Felix's deep voice washes over him like a gentle wave, but instead of dragging him away it carries him towards land, and suddenly Jisung realizes he can breathe.

It's something more like a journey than an instance, Jisung is confident. He knows Felix said it a while back, but he's really figured that one out. He has a lot of good days, those are the standard in fact. The rarity is the bad day, when a certain shade of pink still makes him flinch, and an expensive perfume he never knew the name of makes his stomach roll. Jisung still feels like he's a bad influence on his friends, but when Seungmin finds that out he's immediately hit with a lecture of sorts- The younger asks if the situation with his mom ever made Jisung regret knowing him, if he ever felt like Seungmin was a burden. Naturally, the answer is no, and then Seungmin raises his brow and Jisung closes his mouth and they hug for a good five minutes while the others stare at them because the teenager admitted that his mom was a problem for the first time, like, ever.

It turns out Jisung isn't the only one making progress.

Life moves on, as expected. It's more school, and schoolwork, and making music, and hanging out with his friends. There's writing in journals and browsing through forums and honest talks about how Jisung is doing. He, truthfully, is making it through this. Jisung doesn't think that he's ready for another girlfriend, or boyfriend, any time soon. He hates to say it, but maybe ever. There's no way to make up for the implicit trust that was shattered in just a few moments, in just a couple of actions. Woojin says maybe if the right person comes along, but that he shouldn't feel pressured. You don't need to be dating someone to be happy, and the nine of them are proof of that. They're like a family, one that Jisung doesn't think could ever be replaced. They're simply precious and unique. He seriously loves them.

The truth is, Jisung still struggles with the fact that she just gets to keep existing in her own little world. The one where she did nothing wrong and like she hasn't caused him so much pain and heartache. She'll never get in trouble, and she'll probably never know the weight of the meanings of the words consent and no. He just hopes that she never finds herself in a situation where her own consent is completely disregarded, because he doesn't wish that on anyone. It's too terrible a thing to want to have happen to other people.

As it is, after a particularly long night of studying with all his friends at his place until they passed out, Jisung wakes up with a sore body and a hazy mind. He can't tug it out of the mud, or quicksand really, because the more he struggles the more he's pulled down. But then he feels a warm breath flutter on his face and opens his eyes to find Changbin sleeping right next to him. He looks so peaceful, and Jisung carefully moves himself into a sitting position, looking around. His Doraemon sheets are all over the place, messily covering the nine of them in some facet or another. Jeongin's only got a single calf covered, but he also stole Chan's hoodie before sleeping so Jisung isn't worried. He's laying on the end of the bed, with Seungmin cuddled towards his back. Somewhere between Changbin's feet and Seungmin's body, Hyunjin has squished himself into a little ball with only the lower half of his face peeking through the blankets. He finds himself impressed the boy didn't suffocate all night. To his other side, Woojin and Chan are hugging in their sleep, which is fairly typical. Just as typical is the way Felix is clinging to Woojin's back, and Minho has taken up the most space by becoming a starfish off to Felix's side. A laugh huffs through his nose, and everything just feels...Peaceful. Their things are littered all over Jisung's room, it's gonna be a mess to clean up before everyone goes home, but that's when he notices-

For just those few moments, the buzzing inside of him is completely silent. Almost as quickly as Jisung makes his revelation, it kicks back up again, but it was gone. Just for a little bit of time, the bee had gone silent and Jisung can't help but smile as he settles back down into his old, lumpy mattress.

Sure, he's still scared of certain shades of pink and perfumes and sure, sometimes he has nightmares and sees her in the hallways and wishes to disappear, but there's hope. There's tomorrow. And as terrifying as the things life can throw at him are, Jisung knows he'll make it through. The only way things will end is if he chooses to let them.

Jisung isn't going to let them.