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The first time it happens is about two months into their sophomore year of college, more or less a month and a half since Changbin and Jaehyun broke up. It happens after approximately a month and a half of Jaehyun spotting Changbin’s car in the apartment complex parking lot every time he comes home after a shift at the café or a day of classes, and having to try very hard to resist the impulse to key the car, to bust the windows, to slash the tires. It happens after approximately a month and a half of Jaehyun having to force himself to walk past the car and leave it alone, despite his mind urging him to wreck the car as much as he can.
Well—that’s not entirely true.
He has keyed the car once before, wanting to write FUCK YOU and only managing to finish the first line of the F before he decided it wasn’t worth it. In what’s to be considered Changbin’s one redeemable action, he did not make Jaehyun pay for repairing the car. He didn’t even message him or confront him in front of the gates of the apartment complex, where, admittedly, their roads have crossed more than once in the past month. Instead, he seemed to settle on giving Jaehyun curt nods or unimpressed looks when they came within ten feet of each other.
While that’s great—mostly because Jaehyun can definitely think of better ways to spend his money than fixing his ex’s car—it also means that he doesn’t exactly get the feeling of satisfaction, of a well-carried out revenge. It’s as if him trying to key Changbin’s car barely made an impact on Changbin’s day; he probably just rolled his eyes, more annoyed about the time it’ll take to get it fixed than anything else, while Jaehyun spent the first two weeks after their break-up bummed as shit out in his bedroom, much too worn out to do anything.
What’s even worse is that it seems that Changbin’s having the time of his life. It makes Jaehyun feel shitty, makes him want to destroy Changbin’s car, vandalize Changbin’s house. He doesn’t, mostly because figuring that out would take too much time and money that he doesn’t have, but—it’s the thought that counts after all, isn’t it?
So he settles on daydreaming about it, instead—until he spots Changbin’s car propped up on a stack of bricks, missing one of its tires. It’s a great thing that he acquired the skill of object permanence at three or five or however old he was, Jaehyun decides later, because he can’t stop smiling at the thought of Changbin’s car. It persists even until the time Taeyong comes home, when the night is already falling.
“Have you seen Changbin’s car?”
“Changbin’s car?” Taeyong echoes, voice muffled from the hallway. Jaehyun pauses the movie he was watching—Clueless—and throws his arm over the back of the couch to turn and look at Taeyong. He can only catch a glimpse of him through the mirror in their hallway, but that’s enough to show him the dark marks running up and down his light jacket. Huh. “Which one even is that?”
“That one Hyundai,” Jaehyun says, “parked like, ten spots down from yours.”
Taeyong stills.
“His vanity plate says CAWK LVR.”
“Ah,” Taeyong says, resuming shrugging off his jacket. “Right, yeah. What about his car?”
“Did you see it?”
“Uh,” he pauses to hang up his jacket on their coatrack, disappearing momentarily from the view of the mirror. He comes back only for a second before he appears in front of Jaehyun, his brows knitted together in apology. “I don’t think so. Why? Did you key it again?”
“Not this time,” Jaehyun says, trying not to frown. Taeyong’s acting weird, something unsteady and forcefully casual in his voice. Maybe he’s had a long day? “Someone stole one of his tires.”
“Did they actually?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty hard to miss.”
“He probably deserved it,” Taeyong says and Jaehyun twists in his seat to be able to see him walk into the kitchen and set the water to a boil. “Actually, scratch that, there’s no chance the asshole didn’t deserve it.”
Jaehyun can’t help but agree, though the question of who stole Changbin’s tires continues to press down on his mind for the next few days, only getting worse when he sees Changbin’s car propped up on those bricks every morning and every afternoon. It only clicks in his mind after he visits Johnny under the pretext of working on one of his portraits for class and finds a tire propped up against the wall of his living room.
“How’d you get a tire?”
“How’d I get a—oh,” Johnny says, turning to follow Jaehyun’s line of sight. His eyes catch on the tire, widening in surprise, and his eyebrows twist together, almost involuntarily. “I don’t have a tire?”
Jaehyun stares at him. “It’s right there.”
“I might have a tire,” Johnny corrects himself. He stalls for time, setting the cup with paint water down on his coffee table; inevitably, he’s going to try and take a sip of it within the next twenty minutes. “It’s… a spare tire?”
“You don’t have a car,” Jaehyun points out.
“Doyoung’s spare tire,” Johnny says, before nodding decisively. “Right, yeah, it’s Doyoung’s spare tire.”
“Why would Doyoung leave you his spare tire?”
“Uh, you know,” Johnny waves his hand vaguely. Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “No space in his apartment? Or, wait, no—Donghyuck put nails in front of his tire, actually. As a treat.”
“And he did that because…?” Jaehyun asks, “you’re not making much sense.”
“Not my fault Donghyuck’s eighteen and so random,” Johnny says and admittedly, he’s got a point. Jaehyun eyes the tire, his frown deepening.
“Wait,” he says, “if Donghyuck put nails in front of his tire, why isn’t it deflated? Or you know, why doesn’t it have any holes?”
“It does, it does,” Johnny hurries to confirm. He reaches for the tire, running his hands along the sides before hauling it up. “It’s just—um, you know, I taped those suckers up. And blew in some air.” Jaehyun opens his mouth—because that makes even less sense—but Johnny hurries to add, “don’t think about it too hard. Just give me a second, let me move it to… uh, anywhere else?”
Jaehyun leans back in his seat on the couch; it’s not as if most of Johnny’s actions have a reasonable explanation to them, after all. He’s content with letting the topic go—at least until his eyes catch on something white, bright against the dark tire, and he makes out the letter F.
“Is there something written on it?”
Johnny stills before he glances at the tire, fingers slipping further down its sides to cover the visible letter.
“No,” he says.
“That’s not Doyoung’s,” Jaehyun says, “Doyoung doesn’t have shit written on his tires.”
“He does,” Johnny argues. “He got… new tires, recently. Uh, winter ones.”
“Don’t you only get winter tires in winter?” Jaehyun frowns. The answer to this should be clear, he thinks—and there is something pressing on the forefront of his mind, itching to connect this to Taeyong acting weird earlier. “We’ve barely gone into fall.”
“Doyoung’s crazy like that,” Johnny says, adjusting his grip on the tire. “That man goes insane every other week. I don’t think this is entirely out of the ordinary.”
“What’s the tire say?”
“Uh,” Johnny slips his hand off the side, glancing down at the tire, and Jaehyun follows, having to lean forward in his seat to be able to read the whole thing. “Fuck bitches, get money.”
“Doyoung willingly got that printed on his tires?”
“I think they’re stickers,” Johnny says. He picks at one with his nail and, sure enough, the corner starts to detach from the tire. “They’re stickers, yeah.”
“Stickers that he willingly bought for his tires?”
“Stickers that he—well, I guess, yeah,” Johnny shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe Taeyong—uh, haha, I mean, maybe Taeil dared him to or something. Or Yuta. Yuta’s much more likely, actually, so let’s go with that.”
“Right,” Jaehyun says, deciding not to push the topic any further. Johnny forces a grin at him before he goes to put the tire away and it slips out of Jaehyun’s mind almost entirely as the both of them get to work.
Maybe he’s not that good with object permanence, actually, because he only recalls the whole issue when he’s on his way home; more specifically, when he’s passing the apartment complex gate and spots Changbin’s car. It makes him grin initially, smile wide, before his eyes sweep over the remaining tires and FUCK BITCHES, GET MONEY stares right back at him from their sides.
fuck off you can’t be serious
you stole changbins tire??
…no?
don’t be mad bro:(
Jaehyun rolls his eyes at Johnny’s response, going a few steps back to take a photo of Changbin’s car. He sends it to Johnny immediately, watching as the typing bubble pops up and stays there for a prolonged period of time. He only gets a reply from him several minutes later, when he’s already back in his and Taeyong’s apartment.
in my defense it was not me
you have the damn tire
how was it not u
it simply was not
can’t u believe me
the bro code says you should
:(((
bro code doesn’t say shit about this
yes it does
ill send u a photo of the signed copy
just need to find it
you mean to tell me you don’t have it
framed and hung in ur living room?
or stuck to the fridge
i’m not picky
bro i promise its not what it looks like
i just moved
you’ve lived in the same apartment
for the past
how long has it been
two years???
one nd a half
that makes it better
it does not
WAIT
im getting off track
why do you have changbins tire
there’s a good explanation for this
you stole it
i did not
someone else stole it
i’m not supposed to say but
yes
who stole it???
literally who would’ve stolen it
king this ones for u to figure out
i am legally not allowed to say<3
da hell do you mean
i mean i signed an nda
laws before bros
:(((
show me da nda
its an nda
i don’t think ur allowed to see it
bros can show each other a little nda
as a treat
damn… bitches be testing me these days
Johnny sends a photo of a bright blue sticky note with something scrawled across it, a good half of it censored. Jaehyun squints at it, bringing the phone closer to his face. I, Johnny Seo, will not tell Jaehyun that—here it’s censored out—stole Changbin’s tires, reads the first line. The rest of it is covered with the exception of Johnny’s mess of a signature.
It’s written, very clearly, in Taeyong’s handwriting.
taeyong made u sign an nda???
lmao
yes
no
wait.
who said anything about taeyong? haha
why’d taeyong steal changbins tire
why’d you let him
im ride or die w taeyong bro
couldn’t just leave my man hanging
there r cameras around the complex
didn’t you think of that
????
johnnys its been twenty minutes reply
i don’t think there are actual cameras here
i was clowning
</3 babe im so sorry
GIRL
you got me fucked up wtf
love is love is love is love
anyway
are you going to tell me why
taeyong stole the tire
fuck no
:( bro…
figure it out yourself bitch
its rly not that hard i promise
also don’t tell taeyong u know
if he finds out i told you he’s going
to take my airpods</3
. okay
going to ignore that
but like.
what could taeyong have
against changbin
he liked him just fine
the few times they met
jaehyun youre being pretty cringe
you can’t be this dense king
no but literally. they don’t
know each other
do they know each other??
…
okay. let me put it this way
what connects taeyong nd changbin
um
i can only think of me
bingo
debut of genius jaehyun
i love it here!
where do we go from here doe
do you hate changbin
uh
yes? ig
because of obvious reasons
yeah
so why could taeyong hate him
and by extent want to steal his tire
to make this easier keep in mind that
he only knows changbin through you
okay
i see what you’re getting at
but thats. too petty
taeyong wouldn’t steal changbins
tire just because changbins been an
asshole to me
been an asshole to you and
made you sad
for like two weeks straight
yes thank you for reminding me
love reliving that part of my life
my point stands doe
this isn’t a taeyong thing
jaehyun you’re giving me a HEADACHE
it is a taeyong thing
its NOT
taeyong doesn’t do petty shit like this
he was against me egging his exs
house in hs
okay but that was his ex
also in hs
wait that doesn’t back me up id kill
to egg my exs house in high school
but anyway
that was his ex and this is urs
and??
what does that change
it changes nothing
taeyong doesn’t do petty shit like this
no matter the occasion
he does, for you
that’s the point
Jaehyun’s a bit too stunned to reply, leaving Johnny on read as he sets his phone down and thinks about it. Would Taeyong do it? The question’s going to eat away at him for the next few weeks, at least, because as curious as he might be, he’s not going to cost Johnny his airpods.
And so he pushes the whole issue to the back of his mind, trying not to focus on it later that day, when Taeyong comes home and they play Mario Cart, ridiculously competitive. Neither of them are too good at it—especially not Jaehyun, despite all the years of practice he had—but losing’s practically worth it, anyway, even if only for the way Taeyong grins and laughs, loudly, and the way he brags about it for the next few days, almost coy and way too pleased.
.
It happens again a couple of months later, just after New Year's Eve. Jaehyun drags Taeyong out with him to the one art store that’s a fifteen minute drive away, half because he doesn’t feel like using public transport but mostly because he enjoys Taeyong’s company, especially on stupid errands like these.
“What do you need, again?” Taeyong asks, as he leans to look over his shoulder, hand on the back of Jaehyun’s headrest. He’s trying to parallel park and doing an admittedly bad job at it, currently on his third attempt at getting into the same parking spot.
“Clay,” Jaehyun says, tugging at the collar of his sweater. Is it just him, or has the car gotten a bit stuffier than before? “Also red paint. Also a canvas? Though Johnny did say I could take one of his old ones, so I might just fuck around and do that.”
“Couldn’t we just have gone to the art store that’s like, a five minute walk from the apartment?” The motion detector on the back of his car starts to beep, loudly, and Taeyong sighs before he shifts into first gear to try and avoid fucking up someone’s car. “A, it’s closer, and B, it might be smaller but it definitely has paint and clay.”
“What about canvases?”
“It’s an art store,” Taeyong says, “they have to have canvases.”
Jaehyun pulls on his bottom lip, silent as Taeyong straightens the car. He doesn’t really want to specify that the reason he’s started going to this art store is only because he’s met Changbin a number of times at the other one after their break-up and he’d really like to avoid that now, not really in the mood to have his day ruined. It just—it seems so trivial at the moment, definitely too stupid for him to treat it as seriously as he’s doing right now.
“I just like it more,” Jaehyun lies. Taeyong looks at him, eyes narrowed slightly; he doesn’t buy it, clearly, but instead of pressing the topic, he just shifts into reverse gear. The car doesn’t move, the engine whirring, and Taeyong sighs, again.
“God, I hate this wreck,” he says, shifting the gear into neutral position and then again into reverse. Jaehyun just grins; he likes it when Taeyong’s the one driving, if only because it’s amusing to see him struggle with it. “I’m going to steal Yuta’s car. Or Doyoung’s, actually. Doyoung’s got a banger of a car.”
“Doyoung’s car is mad ugly,” Jaehyun argues, “a mess on four wheels. You wouldn’t want to drive that shit.”
“It’s an automatic, though,” Taeyong says, wistfully, as he starts turning the steering wheel. “That’s what matters the most.”
Jaehyun hums, watching as Taeyong struggles to navigate the car into the parking spot. “I can park it.”
Almost as if on command, Taeyong’s smile drops off his lips and he frowns, jaw tightening just slightly. Jaehyun has to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from breaking out in a smile.
“I know how to park,” Taeyong says, “I’ve parked before. I’m just… testing out the limits and everything.”
“You’ve had your license for more than two years, now,” Jaehyun points out, “I think you’ve had more than enough time to test out the limits.”
“And I think you’ve had more than enough time to stop being an ass over me being unable to parallel park, yet here we are,” Taeyong bristles, though it only serves to make Jaehyun more endeared. It only takes a moment until Taeyong glances at him, his eyes near apologetic, though they harden the moment he notices the grin Jaehyun’s trying his hardest to hold back. “Jaehyun, I’m never giving you another lift anywhere, what the hell.”
“Nooo, don’t say that, you’re so sexy,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong glares at him almost immediately.
It takes Taeyong five more tries and nearly ten more minutes to park the car, finally, just barely managing not to bump into the one behind them. Jaehyun teases him about it and Taeyong just rolls his eyes, mock annoyed, though he finally cracks and laughs along when they enter the store.
“I’m just bad at parallel parking,” Taeyong whines, as if Jaehyun doesn’t know this. “I’m fine at literally all other aspects of driving.”
“What about the gear shift?”
“Admittedly, I have some problems with the gear shift as well,” he says, “but love is love. It does not matter. Besides both of these, I’m a very skilled driver.”
“I’d never say you’re not,” Jaehyun says, knocking his shoulder into Taeyong’s before linking their elbows together to pull him towards the paint aisle. “I’d go as far as to say you’re a better one than Yuta, even.”
“Not Doyoung?”
“I hate to say it, but Doyoung’s a way better driver than you,” Jaehyun muses, as they slow their pace to let him find the brand of paint he prefers. “Do you want my official ranking?”
“Only if I’m first,” Taeyong says, “otherwise it’s as good as worthless to me.”
“You’re first in my heart,” Jaehyun says, grinning at the way Taeyong rolls his eyes and ducks his head, missing the way he reddens. “On the list, though, you’re like. Third? Maybe second. Not sure.”
“Third?” Taeyong asks, voice rising in the otherwise quiet store, before unlinking their elbows. “How’re you going to give me third place? I’m a good driver. This doesn’t check out.”
“It does,” Jaehyun insists, coming to a stop. Taeyong raises his eyebrows, expectant, lifting his elbow to prop it up on Jaehyun’s shoulder—probably as a way to get back at him for doing the exact same thing whenever he gets the chance. Today’s one of the rare occasions where Taeyong’s taller, even if it’s only because he’s wearing platforms. “See, Doyoung’s number one, and this is where I’m a bit unsure, because either you’re second or I am. Or Johnny, maybe.”
“Johnny doesn’t have his license.”
“He still has the vibe of someone who drives well,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong nods his head, after a moment, unable to find a flaw in Jaehyun’s reasoning. “Okay, so it’d be—hold on.”
Jaehyun crouches, having located the red paints, and makes Taeyong lose his support and his footing, too, almost. He stumbles, grumbling, before he kicks at Jaehyun’s foot in retaliation.
“Couldn’t you have warned me?”
“That was more fun, though, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun picks up a tube of crimson paint before he turns to Taeyong, brows raised expectantly. Taeyong huffs, looking away, though in the end he hauls Jaehyun to his feet regardless. “Anyway—I think it’d be Doyoung, first, then Johnny, then you, me, and Yuta last.”
“Okay,” Taeyong narrows his eyes in thought, biting on his bottom lip. “So—you’re wrong, is the thing. The right order would be Doyoung—”
“—staying with Doyoung first?” Jaehyun asks, “I thought you wanted to be first.”
“I’m very humble, so I can admit my mistake here,” Taeyong says, following Jaehyun as he walks out of the aisle. “But, anyway, the right order would be Doyoung, then me, of course, Johnny, Yuta, and you, last.”
“Why do I have to be last?”
“Because you never drive.”
“Johnny never drives and he’s third,” Jaehyun says.
“That’s on account of him being Johnny,” Taeyong replies and Jaehyun turns to look at him, unable to hold his scowl for long, his lips twisting into a smile against his will. Before he has the chance to reply, though, his attention is caught by a couple standing behind Taeyong’s shoulders, laughing loudly about something.
It’s Changbin, Jaehyun realizes with a start. Changbin and his new boyfriend, apparently, judging by the way Changbin laughs and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips. Taeyong seems to notice his prolonged silence because he turns his head, following Jaehyun’s line of sight.
“Oh,” he says and Jaehyun blinks. His brain feels like it’s been liquidized and it takes him several seconds to make sense of the situation. “Fuck.”
If anything, it feels weird. It feels weird because if Jaehyun were in this situation two months ago, he’d be sad for the rest of the week, probably. If he was in this situation one month ago, he’d probably be bummed out about it for at least a few hours, if not the whole day.
Now, though, he finds that he doesn’t really care that much.
It’s mostly a matter of wanting what he and Changbin had back, because even when the relationship was starting to fall apart, there was still that feeling of having someone there for him, always, that he could love and kiss and look forward to spending the rest of his life with. It’s not even that, really, because Jaehyun doesn’t find himself missing much when Taeyong reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing lightly.
“Come on,” he says, pulling on Jaehyun’s hand as he starts walking forward. “What else did you need?”
The next morning, one of Changbin’s tires is gone once again, leaving the car propped up on a small stack of bricks. When Jaehyun brings it up, Taeyong shrugs, pretending he had nothing to do with it.
It’s a bit sweet, Jaehyun can’t help but think, his heart swelling in his chest for no reason.
.
A week before Valentine’s Day, it happens again: Jaehyun leaves the apartment to find Changbin’s car missing its two front wheels, this time, propped up once more on bricks. This time, though, there’s letters on the side of the bricks, spelling out FUCK and YOU.
It makes him smile, even if he can’t think of any particular reason Taeyong might have had for stealing the tires this time.
“Very creative,” Jaehyun hears and turns around to see Changbin standing on the sidewalk, watching him warily. He’s got his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, leaning back on his heels—and the insoles he’s wearing must be doing him wonders, because he looks a good five inches taller than he actually is. “Can you cut this shit out, though? This is the third time.”
“I’m not stealing your tires,” Jaehyun says. “I think you’re giving yourself too much credit if you think I’d still be so not over you to go as far as to steal your tires.”
“Who else could it be?” Changbin asks, exasperated. “You’re the only one I have history with, in this whole fucking apartment complex. No one else knows me.”
“Maybe your neighbors just hate you,” Jaehyun points out, “I wouldn’t put it past them. Or past you, I guess, to make them hate you.”
Changbin gives him a flat look. “Very funny,” he says, “but seriously, can you cut this out? It’s getting boring at this point. I didn’t say anything the first couple of times since I figured, I don’t know, that you were coping or some shit, but I’ve reached my limit.”
“I’m not stealing your tires,” Jaehyun repeats, “I have better things to do, believe me.”
“Yeah?” Changbin says, “like what?”
Jaehyun blinks at him.
Coincidentally, he doesn’t have much planned for the next week.
“Like literally anything else,” he says, adjusting the strap of his bag. “Right now, I’ve got to get to class.”
“And I’ve got to get my tires back,” Changbin takes a few steps towards him, chin held high in the air. “Where are they? At least tell me. I can go get them myself, I don’t care.”
“I don’t have them,” Jaehyun insists, “I don’t even own a car to relocate them somewhere.” That’s true, even if he uses Taeyong’s car as if it was his own, half the time. “If I was trying to move your tires, then I assure you, you’d be well aware.”
“Okay, so maybe you’re keeping them in your apartment,” Changbin argues, crossing his arms over his chest. Jaehyun feels sick remembering that he once thought this man was attractive. “I know you’re the one stealing them.”
Jaehyun sighs. “I don’t have them in my apartment.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s on you.” Jaehyun waves his hand dismissively, “look, I don’t have the time for this. Go bother someone else.”
“I’m not going to,” Changbin says, then, because he’s the most annoying person on the planet, adds, “I know you have them.”
“I don’t have them,” Jaehyun grits his teeth. His mood’s already halfway to being ruined and not even Changbin’s stolen tires are going to fix it, not at this point. “I can literally show you my apartment, where there are no tires in sight. Will that be enough for you to believe me?”
Changbin doesn’t even pretend to think about it.
“No,” he replies, his smile sleazy. “But it’d be something, at least.”
Jaehyun takes a deep breath. “This will only take five minutes, no more.”
“No promises.”
“I have to get to class,” Jaehyun says, before he repeats, enunciating it more clearly this time, “this will only take five minutes. No more.”
“Fine,” Changbin says, “five minutes. If I find the tires, you’re paying me back. For these two and the two before.”
“You won’t find them, so it won’t be a problem,” Jaehyun shakes his head, turning on his heel to walk towards his home, vaguely aware of Changbin trailing after him. When they enter the apartment, Taeyong’s already up, sitting at the kitchen table and falling asleep over his bowl of cereal.
He seems to sober up as soon as he sees Changbin walk in through the door, straightening in his chair so fast he almost knocks it down before narrowing his eyes at Changbin.
“What’s he doing here?”
“He has a name,” Changbin says, not letting Jaehyun answer. “Think you could use it, or is that too much to ask of you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Taeyong tells him, glaring at Changbin’s back, before he turns to Jaehyun. “What’s he doing here? Are you two—”
“—no, definitely not,” Jaehyun says, shaking his head, and Taeyong’s shoulders sag in relief. “He thinks I’m stealing his tires.”
Taeyong blinks at him, tilting his head in confusion before nodding slowly and watching as Changbin circles the living room like a vulture.
“Happy?” Jaehyun asks, when he finally stops. “They’re not here.”
“Could still be in the rest of the apartment,” Changbin points out and Jaehyun can’t help the sigh that spills out of his mouth. This is worth it, he reminds himself, even if only so Changbin drops this and doesn’t figure out it’s Taeyong who’s actually stealing his tires. “I’d have to check the other rooms to make sure.”
The process is fine, at least until Changbin stops in front of Taeyong’s bedroom, hand already on the handle, and Jaehyun has to press the door closed when he tries to open it.
“I have to go in here, too,” Changbin says.
“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Jaehyun tells him, “you didn’t even have to go through the whole apartment—shouldn’t have, in the first place, but I let you so you wouldn’t go fully batshit insane. Now you’re pushing it.”
Changbin scoffs, laughing in disbelief. “I’m pushing it? Please. You’re just proving my point that my tires are in this room.”
“They’re not here,” Jaehyun argues, “this isn’t even my bedroom. It’s Taeyong’s. He’s not gonna have your tires.”
“Oh, yeah, totally,” Changbin says, “as if I’m gonna believe that. If anyone would have helped you with this, it’d be Taeyong. Even when we were together, you two were always—”
“—let him in, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun turns to see Taeyong standing at the threshold of the hallway, his arms crossed, before he wanders closer to them, looking more annoyed than anything. He’s staring at Changbin dryly, before he waves his hand dismissively.
“He’s not going to find anything here,” Taeyong adds, reaching to lightly pull Jaehyun away from the door, and Jaehyun wonders whether Taeyong’s aware that he knows. “I get having poor taste in decor, but even you’ve got to know that a tire does not look good with anything.”
“You’re hilarious,” Changbin says, before he pushes open the door to Taeyong’s bedroom. Jaehyun feels his heart drop in his chest—what if the tire is there? What if Taeyong didn’t get the chance to take it to Johnny’s? What if—
“—it’s not there,” Taeyong says, tone verging on teasing as he steps closer to Jaehyun, knocking their shoulders together. Does he know? “Obviously. Could’ve warned me you were bringing him over, though.”
“Sorry,” Jaehyun says, trying not to deflate. “Believe me, I didn’t want this either.”
“Yeah, not surprised,” Taeyong reaches for his hand, fingers light on his wrist. They stay like that, side-by-side, silent, until Changbin comes out of the room, face sour. “See? Nothing here. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Whatever,” Changbin says, visibly disgruntled, before leaving the apartment with Jaehyun. He still looks absolutely convinced that it’s Jaehyun’s fault, as if he has a single idea about how to even begin taking off a tire, though it’s not like he’s too far off from the truth.
The whole thing does beg the question of what Taeyong’s doing with the tires. Is he still bringing them to Johnny’s? And if so, what comes after that? Jaehyun’s not quite sure, but he’s not going to let his curiosity stew in his stomach this time.
“What do you do with the tires?” He asks Johnny that same evening, when he’s sprawled out on his couch. Technically, he’s there for a reason—something about Johnny needing a model for his painting—but it’s not like either of them are doing much work, instead vibing around with their bro playlist playing in the background.
“Hm?” Johnny reaches to turn down the volume just as Luke starts belting out the chorus of Long Way Home, glancing over his shoulder at Jaehyun. “What’d you say?”
“What do you do with the tires?” Jaehyun repeats, “the ones Taeyong steals.”
“Taeyong’s not the only one who steals them,” Johnny scoffs. “Why do you think I have them?”
Jaehyun blinks at him, confused. “You were the one who told me he steals them,” he says, “don’t you just—help him? Or were you the one to start stealing them in the first place and just used him as a cover story?”
“Okay, fine, he’s the one that steals them,” Johnny mutters. Jaehyun can’t tell if he’s actually upset about this or not. “I just help him.”
“By help him, you mean what, exactly?”
“It mostly narrows down to housing the tires,” Johnny says, finally coming to terms with the fact that he’s not going to get anything done and dumping his brush into the mason jar of dirty paint water. He turns around fully to face Jaehyun, with a streak of smudged, bright neon green going from his left eyebrow to his hair; not much of a surprise, considering he’s always been a terribly messy painter. “The first time I helped him take them off, but since then he just shows up here with the tires in the trunk of his car.”
“And where do you go from there?” At Johnny’s confused look, he adds, “do you just—do you just keep the tires? In your apartment? Do you have four of Changbin’s tires in your apartment?”
Johnny laughs, as if the concept is ridiculous to him. “Of course not,” he says, “only the last two are here.”
“What about the other two?”
“Uh,” Johnny stammers, pausing in thought. “I think Taeyong mentioned something about an auto salvage yard? Fuck if I know what he meant, though.”
“An auto salvage yard?”
“Yeah,” he says, “though the last two are staying here; I’m thinking of doing something with them, just can’t figure out what, exactly.”
“Doesn’t Taeyong want to do something with them?”
“Taeyong’s in animation,” Johnny scoffs, and the divide between traditional and digital art communities grows that much further apart. “The fuck’s he gonna do with a tire? He’s touched a paint brush a total of ten times.”
“Maybe fifteen,” Jaehyun corrects.
“He’s touched a paint brush a total of fifteen times,” Johnny says. “I don’t see how that changes anything, considering he still wouldn’t know how to act if he had to do shit with a tire.”
Jaehyun can’t exactly disagree. He remembers just a week or two before, when he’d set up his potter’s wheel in the living room and spent the whole day making pots with Taeyong sitting on the couch, eyes open in awe as he watched him work. He’d wanted to try it, too, and so Jaehyun switched places with him, fingers gentle on Taeyong’s hands as he helped him shape the clay.
Taeyong had left soon after that, face flushed as he proclaimed that it was a bit too messy for him, already picking at the clay left behind on his skin. He’d probably have a stroke if he had to work with it the whole day, his hands coming out dry, his skin stretched uncomfortably over his bones.
“Maybe, yeah,” Jaehyun agrees, “well. Any clue what you’re going to do with the tires, then?”
“I told you that I’ve yet to figure it out,” Johnny sighs, reaching to card his fingers through his hair, “what I can do now, though, is peel off the stickers. You want to help?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Johnny grins at him and the answer’s clear. They end up sitting on his apartment floor, the tires in front of them as they pick at the stickers. Johnny’s much better at it with only ES, GET MONEY left on the tire in front of him, while Jaehyun’s lagging behind and still trying to finish taking off the FUCK.
“By the way, I wanted to ask,” Johnny starts. He doesn’t look up at Jaehyun, busy using the X-ACTO knife to pick at the sticker without cutting into the tire; something he hasn’t been very successful with so far. “Since Valentine’s is coming up, I was thinking you could join me and go to this, uh, speed dating event?”
Jaehyun looks up, blinking slowly at him. “…speed dating event?”
“It’s Valentine’s themed,” Johnny says, as if that clarifies anything. “You go around and meet different people or whatever until you click with one.” At Jaehyun’s silence, he adds, “I promise it’s better than I’m making it sound.”
“Wait, didn’t you go there last year?” Jaehyun asks, “with, um, wasn’t it Taeyong?”
“Uh, maybe, but—”
“—Taeyong said it was terrible,” Jaehyun replies, grinning under his breath when he finally manages to pull off the K. He flicks it off his fingers onto the little pile of trash they’ve gathered, moving on to the B. “Sorry, Johnny, but I trust him more than you, especially on this.”
“Stop—don’t do that. You’re supposed to hear me out, unbiased.”
“I can’t hear you out unbiased when I know the whole thing sucks,” Jaehyun says, “I know it’s just an excuse for you to get laid. Can’t you just go there alone?”
“It’s more embarrassing if I go there alone,” Johnny whines, slumping against the tire and resting his forearms on it, as if it’s not dirty as shit. “Come on, you shouldn’t be so hard to convince. Don’t you want to at least try to have a valentine this year?”
Johnny’s probably trying to help. Maybe he thinks that Jaehyun’s a bit uncomfortable with the fact that despite having a valentine last year, he doesn’t have one now—or maybe it’s the fact that Changbin’s got a valentine this year, his relationship with Jaehyun already long forgotten.
In truth, Jaehyun couldn’t care less.
Not to mention that he can definitely think of better people to spend his time with than whatever incels attend the speed dating event—and that includes Johnny.
“I don’t need a valentine,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got Taeyong.”
Johnny gapes at him, his eyebrows pulling together. “Oh, shit,” he finally says, the corners of his lips tugging up, “you guys finally figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
Johnny’s smile drops immediately.
“So you didn’t,” he says, “damn. It do be taking you a long time, though.”
“What exactly’s taking me a long time?”
“You know, uh,” Johnny glances around them before his eyes catch on the rest of the stickers on Jaehyun’s tire. “Peeling the stickers off, genius. Can’t you speed it up?”
.
Jaehyun realizes what Johnny meant the next day, when he catches Taeyong stealing another of Changbin’s tires. Well, not quite catches him—he’s awake in the living room, trying to finish a painting for his classes tomorrow (a task that seems nearly impossible, the closer the clock itches to four am), when Taeyong comes home, a dark mark smudged across the bridge of his nose.
“Long night?” Jaehyun asks when Taeyong walks into the living room, and the question makes him startle, eyes going wide and hands going slack, dropping his phone. It clatters loudly onto the floor and definitely helps Jaehyun wake up a little bit more. “Damn, shit. That tired?”
“Uh, no, I’m just,” Taeyong shakes his head, going to pick up his phone. In the meantime, Jaehyun uses his own to message Johnny, his fingers sluggish as they type the message: Taeyong drop off another tire at yours? “I’m just—I thought you were asleep.”
yeah, Jaehyun’s phone buzzes with Johnny’s reply. how’d you know?
“All the lights are on,” Jaehyun says, as gently as he can, setting his phone down on the coffee table, holding back a yawn. “I’d turn them off if I went to sleep.”
“Not necessarily,” Taeyong points out, trailing into the kitchen to turn the coffee machine on. He leans against the counter, eyes on Jaehyun, “you don’t turn them off like, half the time.”
“Contributing to light pollution is sexy?”
“Making our light bill skyrocket isn’t,” Taeyong teases, before he shakes his head. “How’s your work going?”
Jaehyun risks a glance at his painting, which is barely half-done, and decides he’s definitely not going to be able to finish it in time. “Not great,” he admits as he gets up, stretching his hands over his head. “It’s whatever. I’ll just have to deal with getting some points deducted for turning it in late.”
“Nooo, that’s no fun,” Taeyong says. “Your class is at twelve, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you have, uh,” he takes a moment to count it on his fingers, “eight hours. And a few minutes, but you can use those to get to class.”
“Yeah, and I don’t feel like working,” Jaehyun says, sliding into his seat by the kitchen table, resting his head on his arms.
Taeyong hums in response, pouring out a cup of coffee. “I can try and help you finish?” He suggests. “Make you coffee, keep you company.”
“I’m not going to ask you to pull an all-nighter with me just so I can finish some stupid project,” Jaehyun watches as Taeyong takes out the last carton of milk from the fridge, adding some to his cup. “It’s really not worth it.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Taeyong says. He sits down in front of Jaehyun, reaching to flick his forehead, and Jaehyun smiles despite himself. “I could, uh, well. I am supposed to be working on an animation assignment, so it’s not like I wouldn’t be doing anything.”
“You’d end up watching The Fox and the Hound like, fifteen minutes in,” Jaehyun points out, “you wouldn’t get shit done.”
“Oh, we should watch that soon,” Taeyong sighs, completely ignoring the rest of what Jaehyun said. He stretches his legs out under the table, kicking at Jaehyun’s ankles, and Jaehyun can’t find it in himself to mind. “I can’t remember the last time we watched it.”
“We watched it for New Year’s,” Jaehyun says, “not even a full two months ago.”
“Yeah, but that was with all the other clowns,” Taeyong says, slumping in his seat. “I meant just the two of us. Alone.” He reddens at that, scrambling to add, “I mean, it is our movie, after all.”
Jaehyun’s mouth twists into a smile as he’s unable to disagree. It is their movie—it’s always been their movie, almost from the moment they met each other, back in middle school, and everything falls into place in his head, then.
He’s into Taeyong.
“Oh,” he can’t help but say.
“Oh, what?” Taeyong asks. He reaches across the table to grasp Jaehyun’s hand and that only serves to intensify Jaehyun’s epiphany, which is pulsing across his head dangerously. Taeyong’s thumb skips over his knuckles and Jaehyun feels moments away from going insane. “Is it—is it not our movie?”
“No, no, it is,” Jaehyun hurries to say, so Taeyong doesn’t get the wrong idea. He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “You up for a ride?”
Taeyong looks at him, gaze unreadable.
They end up in his car, less than fifteen minutes later, with Taeyong struggling to maneuver his way out of the parking spot while Jaehyun stares out the window. Sure enough, when Changbin’s car appears in his line of sight, it’s missing another tire.
“Someone stole another one of Changbin’s tires.”
“Oh,” Taeyong says. “Did they really?”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, thinking of all the tires stocked up at Johnny’s.
“You sure it wasn’t you?” Taeyong asks, voice teasing as he glances at Jaehyun for a brief moment before focusing on driving out of the parking lot. His hands are steady on the wheel and Jaehyun wonders whether they’d remain as such if he told Taeyong he knew it was him. “Changbin seemed convinced of that.”
“God, that was so annoying,” Jaehyun sinks in the car seat and Taeyong laughs, clearly entertained. “I hate that man. Can’t believe I was ever into him.”
“No one can,” Taeyong says, “or, well. I guess he had his moments.”
“Like?”
Taeyong shrugs, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “He made you happy,” he says, as if it’s that simple. “Like last Valentine’s, for example, when he went all out and planned out a whole day of whatever for you two. I think that was sweet.”
“Look how well that turned out, though.”
“Well, yeah, because he was an asshole,” Taeyong says, “I’m just saying—I don’t know. It was nice to see you so happy. Even if it was because of Changbin.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun has to bite back his smile, “but—even just taking Valentine’s into consideration, we always do something together. Or always did, I guess.”
Taeyong’s silent for a moment, the only sounds in the car the faint whirring of the engine and some song that sounds vaguely like Taylor Swift playing on a low volume. Jaehyun reaches to turn it up, recognizing it to be Dress.
“That was different, though,” Taeyong says, finally, glancing towards the radio and then towards Jaehyun, only holding his gaze for a moment as Taylor Swift sings the chorus. Maybe it’s the faintly orange headlights, but Jaehyun swears he’s blushing. “We’re not—well, you know.”
We could be, Jaehyun wants to say, the words threatening to crawl out of his lips. He wants to say it, so, so bad, but he’s got a better idea of how this could go.
“Mhm,” he hums in response.
“Speaking of,” Taeyong asks, “Johnny ask you to the speed dating thing?”
“Ugh, he did.”
Taeyong snickers at Jaehyun’s sigh.
“I think you’re the only one in our friend group who hasn’t gone with him,” he says, cocking his head in thought. “Other than, you know, the kids.”
“Even Doyoung went?”
“Johnny got both him and Yuta to tag along, his first year of college,” Taeyong says, “I went last year, obviously. And you’re to go this year—”
“—I’m not going, fuck no.”
Taeyong just barely manages to hold back his giggles. “I can’t believe you’d leave Johnny hanging.”
“I’m not about to go to some speed dating event,” Jaehyun laughs, turning to stare out the window at the passing headlights and neon signs. The sight is nice, admittedly, but so boring in comparison to Taeyong. “That sounds like the worst fucking thing.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Why’d you go, then?” Jaehyun says. “I assume Yuta and Doyoung were there to advise you against it.”
Taeyong’s silent for a moment, tapping his fingers on the wheel, before he shifts into higher gear. “I thought they might’ve been exaggerating,” he says finally, “especially Yuta. You know how dramatic he can be.”
“Doyoung tends to tell it as it is, though,” Jaehyun points out, turning to look back at Taeyong. “You didn’t at least believe him?”
“I did,” Taeyong replies, “it’s just—I mean, it’s not like I had anything better to do. I thought it might’ve been at least more interesting than, you know. I’m not gonna say it.”
“Than watching the entirety of Vanessa Hudgens’s cinematography for the twentieth time?”
“Closer to fiftieth but yeah, sort of,” Taeyong says, exchanging amused glances with Jaehyun. “It was a nightmare—though I should’ve expected that, in all honesty. It took Johnny all of twenty minutes before he left with someone.”
“And you’re surprised I don’t want to go?”
Taeyong shrugs, acting indifferent, but Jaehyun can see the way his lips are struggling not to pull into a smile, the way his eyes are shining. “It just seemed like something right up your alley, is all.”
“Did it, now?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, though it’s not like he can find it in himself to be truly annoyed, not with the way Taeyong’s grinning. “Well, can’t say I wouldn’t love a good incel goes to his first speed dating event moment.”
“Honest to god, I think it’s what the people want,” Taeyong says, “simple as that.”
“You’re not going to convince me to go,” Jaehyun deadpans, “definitely not. I’ve better things to do than everything that entails.”
“I just think everyone should go through the mini hell that’s accompanying Johnny there,” Taeyong muses, before shaking his head, “but—anyway, speaking of, I wanted to ask, um. Are you free for Valentine’s?”
“Why? You wanna ask me out?”
The car swerves, throwing Jaehyun’s shoulder to the side, Taeyong’s hands slipping downwards and pushing the steering wheel harshly to the right. They’re lucky enough that the roads are empty—it is four am, after all—and that Taeyong is a skilled enough driver to quickly regain his cool, fingers gripping the wheel tightly as he switches back to their original lane, eyes wide and skin red.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Jaehyun teases and Taeyong sends him a glare, still skittish. “You could’ve just said it, you know. Would’ve saved us—well, maybe not time, but all that.”
“I didn’t—that wasn’t because of—god, you’re unbearable,” Taeyong says, lifting his fingers to card them through his hair, doing little to hide the way his face glows with embarrassment. “Next time you ask me to drive around with you like this, I’m leaving your ass at home.”
“That’s fucked up,” Jaehyun replies, “you’re just going to drive around alone? Without me?”
Taeyong sends him a dry look.
It doesn’t have the full effect he’s trying to achieve, with Jaehyun more endeared than anything else.
“What did you want, though?” Jaehyun asks, instead of pushing the teasing any further. Taeyong raises his brows in question, evidently confused. Or not in the mood to answer. Either of those works. “Why’d you want to know if I’m free? For Valentine’s.”
“I was thinking we could hang out,” Taeyong says, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter. “You know, like we used to? Watch a movie. The Fox and the Hound, maybe, but that’s just what’s on my mind right now. Celebrate your birthday. Maybe do something else. I don’t know, haven’t thought about the logistics too hard yet.”
Jaehyun doesn’t even pretend to think about it.
“I can’t think of any better ways to spend the day,” he says.
“I just said we’d watch a movie,” Taeyong replies, though he’s smiling as he loosens his grip on the wheel, relaxing in his seat. “I’m sure there’s better things to do than that.”
Jaehyun’s inclined to disagree.
.
They end up spending Valentine’s together—no surprise there—doing nothing but vibing around on their couch and rewatching old animated movies from their childhood. Taeyong manages to surprise him with a tiny cake, one that Jaehyun has no idea how or when Taeyong made without him finding out, with two candles in the shape of a two and a one.
“I’m not turning twenty-one this year,” Jaehyun tells Taeyong when he brings out the cake. It’s decorated with frosting smeared on rather unskillfully. Jaehyun thinks he’s never had a better birthday cake. “I think you need to catch up on your Jaehyun trivia, Yong.”
“They didn’t have a candle in the shape of a zero,” Taeyong admits, near apologetic as he shuffles his feet. “We’ll just have to celebrate your twentieth birthday next year. Happy early twenty-first.”
“I don’t want to be twenty-one,” Jaehyun says. His bottom lip juts out in an exaggerated pout, hand finding the hem of Taeyong’s sweatshirt and tugging on it. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to my teenage years.”
“You’d be saying goodbye to your teen years even if I did get the right candles,” Taeyong says, tone verging on pointed, and Jaehyun’d think he was annoyed if he didn’t know him so well. “You’ll be able to drink legally now. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Twenty is less hag than twenty-one, though,” Jaehyun says, “I need a gentle introduction to my twenties, not this. Next thing I know, you’ll celebrate my twenty-second birthday in a month. I’m not ready to embrace being a hag just yet.”
“I’m twenty-two, you asshole,” Taeyong bristles, carefully balancing the cake on one hand to shove at Jaehyun’s shoulder with another. “I think you’d be just fine.”
“Real shit?”
“Real shit,” Taeyong’s unable to keep up the act of being annoyed, a smile pulling the corners of his lips up. “Now come on, make your wish and blow out your candles before all the wax melts onto the frosting.”
“You’re not allowed to hurry me up,” Jaehyun says, twisting in his seat and patting the empty spot on the couch in front of him. Taeyong rolls his eyes though he obliges anyway, sitting down with his legs tucked under him and his back straight, making him tower over Jaehyun. “You’re supposed to give me time for this.”
“Jaehyuuuun,” Taeyong whines, wiggling in his place for effect as the entirety of what Jaehyun said flies over his head. “You’re gonna end up with wax on your cake. Is that really what you want?”
“I don’t know. Would you recommend it?”
Taeyong gives him a dry look. “I’m never making you a birthday cake again if you keep this up,” he says; they both know it’s an empty threat but Jaehyun plays along anyway, reaching out and resting his fingers gently on Taeyong’s wrists. His thumbs skip along the soft skin, managing to catch the vibration of Taeyong’s pulse for just a quick second before it’s gone.
“Give me a moment to think about it,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong huffs, though there’s no real annoyance in the gesture. Jaehyun stares at the candlelight—and there’s only one thing running through his mind.
Taeyong.
He closes his eyes for a moment, playing back every night spent together in the comfort of their apartment, watching shitty reality tv or animated movies or pretending to work on their assignments together. Every car trip, whether it be to the art store fifteen minutes away or one of their longer ones, lasting a day or two or three. Every morning Taeyong pulled him out to get coffee or some sort of breakfast food at an overpriced café and every morning he found Taeyong in the kitchen, standing over the stove with pancake batter mixed and ready to go to his side. Every evening he dragged Taeyong along with him to some terrible poetry night or stand-up show or some obscure theater play which neither of them could understand. Every time he and Taeyong burst into giggles for no reason and couldn’t stop, their stomachs aching from too much laughter, every time they tried to cook together and made an absolute mess of everything, every time Taeyong held his hand, every time he brushed away his hair and kissed his forehead whenever Jaehyun felt terrible. Playing back every moment he can remember with Taeyong, from the start of their friendship till now, after they’ve come this far.
Playing back everything he wants so much more of.
Jaehyun opens his eyes, wasting no time in blowing out the candles. Taeyong erupts in raucous cheers and they’re barely able to save the cake from slipping off the plate as both of them burst into laughter.
“Happy birthday,” Taeyong tells him after they’ve both calmed down, after they’ve shared almost half of the cake and settled back into the couch to watch The Incredibles. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Jaehyun’s barely paying any attention to it, his eyelids feeling heavy and fatigue clouding his mind.
“You’ve already told me that,” Jaehyun says, reaching for Taeyong’s hand. He’s got his head resting on Taeyong’s shoulder, a warm and fuzzy feeling burning through his chest as Taeyong rubs his back. “More than once, I might add.”
“And you’d prefer for me not to say it at all?”
“Of course not,” Jaehyun mutters, dragging his fingers along the lines of Taeyong’s palm, along the veins on the back of his hand. Taeyong flicks the side of his head lightly and Jaehyun doesn’t have to turn back to know that he’s smiling softly.
“Happy Valentine’s, too,” Taeyong adds. “Sorry you got kicked back into the incel crowd for this year, though. Bummer.”
“It could be worse,” Jaehyun says, “like if Johnny managed to convince me to go to the speed dating event with him, for example. I think this has a pretty good chance of making it to my top three Valentine’s-slash-Birthdays, honestly.”
“What’re the other two in your top three, then? Assuming this one makes it.”
“Second would be… hm,” Jaehyun says; there’s a whole list to choose from and his brain really isn’t working well enough for that right now, so he shakes his head. “Never mind that. Just know that first is the one from my senior year of high school.”
Taeyong had already gone to university at that point and Jaehyun had thought he’d have to spend his birthday without his best friend—until he opened his front door to find Taeyong on the porch, huddled in his coat and trying very hard not to freeze. He remembers how happy he’d been, how his smile was etched almost permanently on his face as they hugged, hands struggling to hold on to Taeyong as hard as he could, how Taeyong laughed into the early morning as he dragged him to the car, how they held hands over the center console before they had to let go on accord of Taeyong struggling to change gear.
“Not the one with Changbin?”
“Changbin didn’t make me skip school just to get into a car accident,” Jaehyun smiles at the way Taeyong’s body shakes with silent laughter, “I don’t think it even comes close to that.”
“To be fair, the car accident was not part of the plan,” Taeyong says, “I was so mad, it fucked up all of my plans. We were supposed to go to New York City and not end up in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
“That made it nicer, though,” Jaehyun twists in his seat to look up at Taeyong, trying not to pay too much attention to how close they are. “I mean, it still would’ve been nice if it’d worked out, but something about being stuck at the side of the road for hours really made it what it was.”
“Which is?”
“One of my favorite memories,” Jaehyun says. The car accident they got into that day was minor—nothing serious, though it still swiped Taeyong’s car out of commission for nearly a week. They ended up stranded for a couple of hours as they waited for road service before they hitchhiked their way to the nearest town—Jaehyun doesn’t even remember the name now, though he remembers perfectly how almost separated from civilization it was. He remembers how bright the stars were in the sky that night, too, and how low Taeyong’s voice was as he pointed out each constellation he could recognize.
“Compared to that, this year’s pretty bland in comparison,” Taeyong points out. “Pretty tame, if you will.”
“We’re spending it together,” Jaehyun says before he can think better of it, “that’s all that matters. I couldn’t care less about what we do, in all honesty.”
Taeyong’s silent, his hand stilling on Jaehyun’s back, before he hums in response. Jaehyun rests his head back on Taeyong’s shoulder, pressing his cheek to the soft material of his sweatshirt. The lull of the movie in the background only serves to make him more sleepy, his eyes struggling to stay open.
It’s only then that Taeyong speaks, his voice so low Jaehyun’s almost unable to make out the words.
“Me, too,” he says, right before Jaehyun loses his grip on consciousness entirely. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything else.”
.
Jaehyun does not know how to take tires off a car.
This much is clear to him, at least after he struggles for a good hour, not even managing to understand one part of the wikihow article. The pictures included only serve to confuse him further and he knows, in the back of his mind, that he’s not going to be able to do it.
That doesn’t mean he’s not going to try, though; especially not when there’s one more lifeline he can use.
bro
how do you take off someones tires
asking for a friend<3
taeyong you know how to steal tires
ur so much better at it than i am
damn
this is jaehyun doe
:(
wh
sorry im half awake
its 2 pm
ok and?
whose tires r u taking off
i told you its for a friend<3
jaehyun..
dw about it
i just need a quick step-by-step guide
that will let me take off four tires
in like fifteen minutes
or like. two will do
okay uh
that’s not a real wikihow article
ugh
hold on
just don’t put it back on or smth
i already tried that genius
the article i mean
i need like. a real person to
explain it to me
and you think that’s gonna be me?
damn
try taeyong
he’s better at this than me anyway
i can’t
????
just can’t
pls help me
try doyoung then
doyoungs going to need like. answers
before he helps me
also isn’t he at work rn
maybe
also i need answers too tf
so you CAN help me
please help me Johnny<3
ill do anything for you<3
by which i mean not rat you out
to changbin for stealing his tires
and using them in your exhibit
okay now that’s going too far
nd you’d have to rat out taeyong too
you ready to make that sacrifice?
id simply throw u under the bus<3
that settles it im going back to sleep
NOO
pls don’t go:(
im serious i rly need ur help
..
whose tires do you want to steal
is this rly important
can we get to this AFTER taking off
the tires
tell me or im not helping you at all
this is my final offer… take it or leave it
fine
god
taeyongs
pleasure doing business w u good sir<3
wait
taeyongs??!?!?!?!?
why are you taking taeyongs tires off
bc love wins?
. okay
omg on valentines too…
maybe love DOES win
that’s what I’m saying bro
its been a week since valentines doe
u good???
but wtv
love won’t win doe unless you help me
don’t rope me into this…
please help me
i have like. twenty minutes left now
before taeyong comes back
:(
johnny please
hold up
why do you even want to steal his tires
don’t laugh but
i want to *** *** ***
.
jaehyun im gay
and practically illiterate
how the hell am i supposed
to decipher that
UHGHFJ
do you rly want me to say it
????
yes???
how else am i supposed
to know what you mean
FINE
i want to
um
take ur time
asshole
just don’t laugh okay i know
this is kind of stupid
i want to ask him out
:(
omg
r u serious???
no im just pulling an epic prank
on you as per usual
YES im serious damn
GOD..
i think this is ur first win
love IS real
exactly
now help me steal his tires so my plan
works out perfectly
wait
let me see if I’m understanding
this correctly..
u want to ask him out
by . stealing his tires?
yup yup
its romantic
or smth
it makes sense don’t think too hard
about it
god… i knew it was too
good to be true
jaehyun genius… still waiting
for your debut king
stop wasting time nd give me directions
ok
what do i get out of this
uh
????
don’t you want love to win
…yes…
DAMN scamming me because
I’m a hopeless romantic… i see how it is
okay im going to facetime u
nd give u step by step instructions
that i will be reading from wikihow
JOHNNY…
how da hell am i supposed to just
know how to steal a tire
idk but you’ve been helping
taeyong steal changbins so ??
don’t u have at least some knowledge
its all muscle memory baby
.
fine god
my help consisted of handing taeyong
the tools
you’re joking
i don’t even have a car idk why
either of you think im gonna be
proficient at this shit
why do you think taeyong only
needed my help once
idk i thought he
i thought that
uh
i did not question it so maybe
that’s on me
its okay king we all have our faults
this is yours
god what a nightmare doe
on second hand maybe ill ask doyoung
NO
i mean
please don’t ill help
do u even know what a tire looks like
yes
…mostly
thank u for da help johnny but I’m
suddenly busy now
i said ill help you don’t take this
away from me now
i want to contribute to world peace
i think u are insane
you’re the one asking someone out
by stealing tires
check your brain king
..okay
okay come on now ur wasting time
Johnny, as Jaehyun should’ve predicted, is not very helpful.
Part of why is, admittedly, Jaehyun’s fault; he should’ve probably at least familiarized himself with the tools needed for this so he wouldn’t have to waste time holding them up to his phone’s camera and having Johnny struggle to see if they were the right ones. Still, it’s not like he’s going to waste a perfectly good chance to blame Johnny for all his problems—definitely not.
“Okay, so, remove the, uh, the hubcap?” Johnny reads from the wikihow article he’s got opened on his laptop, sending Jaehyun a confused look through the screen. It’s been maybe fifteen minutes and they’ve just managed to figure out how to place the jack under the car without breaking anything.
“The fuck is a hubcap?”
“It’s the, uh—when you have the wheel, right, there’s that metal part?” Jaehyun nods, a vague idea of what Johnny’s talking about in his mind, “the middle of it—that’s the hubcap.”
“Okay,” he says, slowly, “I can see why you’re not a writer. That was the shittiest description I’ve ever heard.”
“I’m not gonna keep helping you if you’re gonna be this mean to me,” Johnny replies—and Jaehyun’d think he was serious, if not for the smile on his face and the laughter following his words. “I’m doing you a favor, you clown.”
“You’re a big boy, you can handle a little bullying,” Jaehyun says. “What’s the hubcap, again? But explain it in like, normal terms.”
“I explained it in normal terms!” Johnny says. “When you have the central portion of the wheel—the metal one, that’s like, grey. Or silver, I guess. Do you see that?”
Jaehyun looks at the wheel unsurely. “…the—the thing that’s not the tire?”
“The—sure, yeah, the thing that’s not the tire,” Johnny sighs. “Exactly in the middle of it, there’s this circle. Show me the wheel,” Jaehyun does as instructed, switching to his back camera on the facetime call and Johnny adds, “see that outline around the center?”
“Yes?”
“That’s the hubcap. You should just… be able to remove it? I don’t know, hold on, the gif wikihow has for this section is mad confusing.” Johnny’s quiet for a prolonged period of time, taking turns typing on his laptop and then comically twisting his face in confusion. Jaehyun really should’ve just called Doyoung—or even Yuta, because they at least have the minimal knowledge about cars required to do this.
Johnny’s a lost cause, just like Jaehyun.
“Okay, okay, so I was wrong,” Johnny says, finally, “the hubcap is the whole silver thing, while the disc in the middle is just a cover for the lug nuts. Remove the cover.”
“And how exactly do I remove it?”
“By taking it off, genius,” Johnny tells him and Jaehyun sighs, loudly, as he sets his phone down on the spare bricks, “it’s not that hard.”
“It’s not exactly budging,” Jaehyun whines, after trying to take off the cover. His fingers keep slipping off of it and trying to pick at the edges is definitely not working. “Does it say how to take it off?”
“Uh,” Johnny stammers. “You’re supposed to use a screwdriver to pry it off.”
Jaehyun looks down at the tools scattered on the asphalt besides his knees. “I don’t have a screwdriver. Think the wrench will do?”
“I think there’s no way you can use a wrench to pry it off,” Johnny says, “if you do, you're going to scratch up Taeyong’s wheels and shit. Can’t you just try and pry it off with your nails or something?”
“It’s not working.”
“Scissors, then? They’re probably your best bet.”
“I also don’t have scissors.”
“Your apartment is literally twenty meters away," Johnny points out. Jaehyun slumps his shoulders, really not into getting up, and Johnny gives him a look through the screen. “Just go get scissors—or a screwdriver, honestly, since that's what you need in the first place.”
“I don’t think we have a screwdriver,” Jaehyun says, switching back to the front camera on the call just in time for Johnny to watch him struggle with getting up, his knees cracking loudly. “Or scissors, actually.”
“You have scissors,” Johnny replies, exasperated, as if he was talking to a child. “Every household has scissors. You’ve got to have scissors.”
“Taeyong broke our kitchen ones a few weeks ago and I’m almost certain neither of us has gone out to buy a replacement pair,” Jaehyun says, only half-lying, but it’s not like Johnny needs to know he was the one to break them, anyway. “And the rest we donated to your, uh, scissors-based project a few weeks ago.”
“Right, right,” Johnny nods, “forgot about that one.”
“How’d that work out for you, by the way? Did you just scam people out of their scissors and not do anything with them?”
“Of course not,” Johnny says, sending Jaehyun a look. It has none of the desired effect—half because Johnny’s face is made up of about eight pixels on Jaehyun’s phone, and half because Johnny’s just about the furthest from an authoritative figure one can get. “I’m still working on it. You’re not going to get the scissors back, though. Sorry.”
“Figured.”
“I thought you’d gotten some to replace them, though,” Johnny says before he backtracks, shaking his head, “or that you didn’t give me all your scissors. Did you really give me all your scissors? How did neither of you veto that idea?”
“To be fair, we had the kitchen ones then, still,” Jaehyun points out. “It seemed reasonable at the time.”
“God, who let you and Taeyong move in together? You’re both the most incompetent people I’ve met, especially when you’re left alone.”
“Hey, we’re making do,” Jaehyun counters, “we’re not that bad. We’re at least a bit competent, I’d say.”
“You’re the most incompetent kind of competent people I’ve ever met. That better?”
“Yes,” Jaehyun mock preens, grinning wide and pretending to act coy, Johnny’s protests of it not being a compliment flying over his head. “Not that this hasn’t been lovely, but Taeyong’s probably on his way so I should go get the screwdriver—oh, or a knife, maybe? We’ll see. Give me a moment and I’ll be right back.”
“No, Jaehyun, don’t leave the—don’t leave the fucking phone here—”
Johnny’s words fall deaf to Jaehyun’s ears as he wastes no time getting back to the apartment, his phone left behind on the hood of the car. He’s got—well. He’s got no clue how much time’s left before Taeyong comes back but it’s certainly not much, maybe not enough for him to even finish taking off the tires. If that’s the case, he’s definitely not going to be able to work up the courage to ask Taeyong out normally.
Not much sense thinking about that now, he decides, focusing on shuffling through the cupboards in search of a screwdriver. It’s got to be here somewhere—either here or in the hallway. Maybe the living room?
In all fairness, it could be anywhere.
“It’s in the next drawer,” Jaehyun hears and, without thinking about it, pulls the drawer open. As promised, the screwdriver’s there, under a handful of things like probably unimportant documents and their broken pair of kitchen scissors. He takes it out of the drawer, holding it up triumphantly, and spins around to find Taeyong looking at him amused. “You left your phone by the car.”
“I… might have,” Jaehyun says, narrowing his eyes, watching as Taeyong slides his phone onto the kitchen table. “Did Johnny hang up?”
“Yeah, right after he asked me whether I got the screwdriver,” he says, “or—he might have mentioned something about scissors? I don’t know, but as soon as he realized it was me, he hung up immediately.”
“I’ll help you clear his searches on twitter.” Taeyong rolls his eyes, though Jaehyun catches the way his lips quirk up in a smile for a second. “Johnny asshole, Johnny incel, Johnny—”
“—actually Johnny angel, because he texted me an apology immediately afterwards.”
“You mean he sent you a moderately funny tiktok?”
“I—yeah,” Taeyong admits, shaking his head. “Well, probably moderately funny. Have yet to watch it. But—anyway, what do you even need a screwdriver for? I thought we had plans to just chill and watch Let It Shine.”
“Who said I needed a screwdriver?”
Taeyong gives him a dry look, eyes swerving to the screwdriver Jaehyun’s still holding up. Jaehyun lowers his hand slowly, trying to figure out how he can get out of this. He’s not that good a liar but Taeyong does tend to be rather gullible sometimes, so maybe—
“—I wanted to steal your tires,” he blurts out before he can think better of it, “or like—well, not steal them, just take them off for a bit.”
“You wanted to—okay,” Taeyong says, slowly, “and you needed the screwdriver for that because…?”
“To remove the hubcap?”
Taeyong blinks at him. “With a screwdriver?”
“What else would you do it with?”
“A—a wrench?” Taeyong says, still looking very confused. “You use it to—like, take off the cover, and then you can just loosen the nuts and it slips right off.”
“Huh,” Jaehyun says, making a mental note to never ask Johnny for help with anything ever again. “For real?”
“You want to check?” Taeyong asks, sounding all too proud as he holds out his hand, not having to wait a second before Jaehyun takes it. He rattles off the steps to taking off a tire as he pulls him outside, fully prepared to demonstrate how taking off the hubcap should work. They reach the car and Taeyong drops to his knees on the asphalt, before coming to a rather surprising conclusion:
He does not know how to take off the hubcap.
“So maybe I lied,” he says after they’ve crouched down by the tire and have stared at it for a few minutes, trying to piece the wrench to the hubcap. Taeyong reaches out, running his fingers over the cover, nails catching on its edges. “Maybe you do pull it off with a screwdriver, actually?”
“Shouldn’t you know this?” Jaehyun asks, “I feel like you should know this.”
“I know how to change a tire,” Taeyong scoffs. He pulls his keys out of his pockets and Jaehyun watches as he brings them up to the cover, moments away from damaging his hubcap. “I just didn’t—I’m better at taking off other types of hubcaps. Not my fault my car is shitty and has a cover over its lug nuts.”
“How do you even know how to take off those hubcaps?” Jaehyun presses, despite knowing the reason perfectly. “It’s not like you’ve ever had a car with them.”
Taeyong eyes him before turning back to the hubcap. “The process is pretty self-explanatory,” he says, “you just… take off the nuts. That’s it.”
“Still,” Jaehyun insists. Taeyong finally presses the keys down to the hubcap cover, still careful, wiggling them towards the edge. “You seem awfully confident in something you’ve got no practice in.”
Taeyong pops the hubcap cover off.
“I’ve got no practice in this, either, and look how great it’s going,” he tosses the hubcap cover away—before immediately regretting it, it seems, because he reaches for it and gently sets it aside, dusting it off with a quick blow. It’s more endearing than it has any right to be. “See, now’s the easy part—or like, moderately easy, depending on how hard the nuts are screwed in.”
“Right,” Jaehyun says as neither of them move to pick up the wrench. “You want me to do that?”
“You’re the one who wanted to do this in the first place,” Taeyong points out and he’s not really wrong, is he? “I’m not doing physical labor for this, no thanks. Now, come on, we don’t have all day.”
“I’m like, pretty certain we do,” Jaehyun says, “unless you got some hot date I don’t know about?”
“Hate to break it to you, but no,” Taeyong presses a hand to his heart in mock apology, his head just slightly cocked to the right. “Unfortunately, I am staying with you all day.”
“God really gives her hardest battles to her strongest soldiers, huh.”
“You can take the tire off alone if you’re such a comedian, you know.”
“I present you my sincerest apologies,” Jaehyun says, finally deciding to make the sacrifice and pick up the wrench. He slips it over the nut—it rattles, just a bit, and something Johnny read from the wikihow article earlier that day flashes in his head. “It’s not the right size.”
“Hm?”
“It’s not the right size,” he repeats, “the wrench, I mean. It shouldn’t rattle over the nut like this.”
“And when did you become such an expert on cars?”
“Johnny read me like, five wikihow articles today on changing tires and everything involved with that,” Jaehyun says, leaning closer to the tire to examine the wrench as it hangs over the nut. He can’t figure out any way to change the size or adjust it somehow, so he just looks to Taeyong helplessly. “Do you have another one of these?”
“It should work,” Taeyong sighs as he moves to try and unscrew the bolts himself. The wrench rattles over them, not making them budge at all. “Why isn’t it working?”
“I’m telling you, it’s the wrong size.”
“It’s not,” Taeyong insists. He tries again, his frown deepening. “I’ve used this to take off the nuts before, so I don’t see why—”
“—that was on a different car, though, wasn’t it?” Jaehyun asks and Taeyong stills immediately. His movements resume after a prolonged pause, but they’re a bit too stiff, and Jaehyun bites back a smile. “Wasn’t it?”
Taeyong’s silent, not sparing him any response as he tries to unscrew the lug nut one last time. It doesn’t budge and he sits back, holding the wrench in his lap. He hits his thighs with it lightly as he stalls, stilling it with his free hand when he finally speaks.
“No,” he says, finally, brows pulling together. “Obviously not.”
“You know what I think?” He asks and, when Taeyong doesn’t respond, continues, “I think that if we went to check right now, Changbin’s car would have the—the hubcap you know how to remove.”
“Do you even know which hubcap I know how to remove?”
Jaehyun skips over that entirely—not because he does not know what hubcap Taeyong knows how to remove. Definitely not. “I bet the wrench would fit the nuts on his tire, too.”
“So what if it does?” Taeyong asks, looking up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze finally. “I bet it’d fit a lot of nuts found on different cars. Don’t really see what’s so special about Changbin’s.”
“I think you do,” Jaehyun says, “come on, you know what I’m getting at.”
“I really don’t.” Taeyong pushes himself up, fishing for his car keys in his jacket pocket. “Doesn’t matter, though,” he unlocks the car, walking over and propping open the trunk with practiced ease, “I should have a wrench that works, uh, somewhere here, anyway.”
“You don’t have to look for it.”
“You’re not going to manage to get the hubcap off without it,” Taeyong says. His tone is serious but his eyes are shining and the glances he’s sending Jaehyun are—coy, almost, and make something twist in Jaehyun’s chest. “And you’re not gonna get the tire off without getting the hubcap off. Well—I guess you could, probably, but then you’d also fuck up my tire.”
“I don’t actually have to take the tire off.”
“You wanted to, though,” Taeyong’s voice becomes slightly muffled as he leans further to look through his trunk, and Jaehyun gets up, accepting that they’re not really going to be able to continue the conversation otherwise. “And it’s really not such a bad skill to learn, I guess, in case you ever get a flat tire or some shit.”
“Uh, sure, I guess,” Jaehyun says, walking over to lean against the back of the car as Taeyong searches for the matching wrench. It’s not going too well—probably because Taeyong’s not even trying, he realizes with a smile. “That’s not really the point of the whole thing, though.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s the point, then, if you’d be so kind as to enlighten me?”
“It’s—well, it’s more symbolic than anything else.”
“Symbolic of what, exactly?”
“I think you know,” Jaehyun says. He watches as Taeyong half-heartedly smooths his hands along the bottom of the trunk, not even bothering to lift the cover to reveal the hidden compartment. “It’s rather simple, really.”
“Is it?” Taeyong asks, “I don’t think I get what you’re trying to say.”
“I wanted to take off your tires,” Jaehyun starts, trying not to let the way his nerves pulse under his skin overtake him, “since you’ve been stealing Changbin’s.”
Taeyong’s lips quiver as he struggles to keep a serious expression, as he pats the bottom of the trunk one last time before straightening in his place. His hand reaches to rub the back of his neck almost subconsciously as he turns to face Jaehyun, eyes the slightest bit unsteady.
Figures.
“Even if that’s true, you’re still not making much sense,” he says, reaching up to close the trunk. “What’s one got to do with the other?”
“I swear it makes at least a little bit of sense,” Jaehyun says and Taeyong breaks, finally, the corners of his lips twisting up. “I’m not saying you did, but hypothetically, if you did steal Changbin’s tires—”
“—you are saying I did, though,” Taeyong points out, “you accused me of it like, thirty seconds ago.”
“I didn’t accuse you of it!”
“You just said I’ve been stealing them,” Taeyong argues, crossing his arms over his chest and moving closer to kick at Jaehyun’s feet. “I think that amounts to accusing me of it, no?”
“It’s not—it’s not accusing you of it,” Jaehyun says. “That makes it sound like I’m condemning it or something. Which I’m not.”
“Right.”
“That’s not the point, though,” he says, “okay—so, uh, anyway. If you were the one stealing Changbin’s tires, why would you have done it?”
“I didn’t do it, though.”
“Say you did,” Jaehyun says, half on the verge of begging him to play along with it. “Just say you did, okay? It’s a simple question.”
Taeyong takes a deep breath, staring at the ground as he shuffles his feet. “If I did steal Changbin’s tires—and I’m not saying I did—I would’ve done it for, uh, well, a number of reasons, I guess.”
“Which are…?”
“At first, it would’ve been mostly to just get back at Changbin, probably,” Taeyong says. He uncrosses his arms, his hands twisting together as he starts to fidget with the hem of his jacket before he thinks better of it, stuffing them into the pockets of his pants. “If I had done it. He’s not—I don’t know. He wasn’t great to you at the end of your relationship, not at all, and the way he broke it off wasn’t… well. I don’t have to tell you, do I?” Jaehyun shakes his head slowly, though it’s not like Taeyong sees it, eyes still stuck on his shoes. “And I know it wasn’t my place—wouldn’t have been my place, I mean, but it’s—god, this might sound stupid, but remember how you were kinda fucked over him being happy?”
“That makes me sound like an asshole.” Taeyong looks up, immediately ready to argue, yet before he has the chance to, Jaehyun adds, “but it is true. I was kinda—yeah. I didn’t tell you about it, though? I don’t think?”
“You didn’t say it,” Taeyong tells him, “you didn’t say it, but it wasn’t too hard to miss, you know.”
“So no acting career in my future?”
“It wasn’t that,” he says, “it’s… I don’t know, you were always bummed after we’d run into Changbin here or whatever. Plus—when you tried to key his car and he didn’t do anything—you did complain about that, which is what pushed me over the edge, figuratively speaking.”
“Which would’ve pushed you over the edge,” Jaehyun corrects, his voice teasing, and Taeyong rolls his eyes.
“Getting a bit too much into this imagine, that’s on me,” he says. He stays silent for a moment, turning to look over his shoulder at Changbin’s car, and Jaehyun follows his line of sight. Changbin’s managed to get the latest tires Taeyong stole replaced, brand new ones, already dirtied with mud, on full display. “I likely would’ve figured that this would be… a way to get back at him, for that, too, but mostly a way to make you more satisfied? And feel a bit better, too, since Changbin would at least have that to deal with.”
“It was nice to see him only manage to get new tires after almost two weeks,” Jaehyun muses, smiling at the memory of how exciting it was to walk out of the apartment every morning and see that the car was still propped up on bricks. “Are those all the reasons you would’ve had?”
“There is one more,” Taeyong turns back to face Jaehyun, face unsure as he bites the inside of his cheek. “The first time it happened, it made you—it made you really happy.”
Jaehyun’s lips part on their own accord as he struggles to think of something to say, his heart threatening to break his ribs with how hard it’s beating in his chest. Taeyong’s voice has slipped lower, has become quieter, more vulnerable, almost, and Jaehyun is moments away from losing his mind.
“I—yeah,” he manages to say, “it did.”
“I’d seen you smile more in the first week after it happened than you had in the month and a half prior,” Taeyong says, “you’d keep bringing it up, too, whenever we’d pass Changbin’s car. Which was a lot, considering we passed it practically every morning. It was nice, seeing you like that, over something so—not so insignificant, maybe, but something so small. It seemed to make your day every other time it happened, too, so—if I was the one to steal his tires—that would’ve become my main motivation for it, I think.”
Jaehyun clears his throat. “Oh.”
“Right? That’d be mad embarrassing,” Taeyong says, nervous laughter slipping past his mouth. “Luckily, I wasn’t the one to do it, so I think it’s safe to say we’ve dodged a pretty big bullet with that one.”
“It’s not embarrassing,” Jaehyun says. He steps towards Taeyong, gentle fingers landing on his wrist, intertwining with Taeyong’s when he slips his hand out of his pocket. “It’s not… it’s sweet.”
“Would’ve been sweet,” Taeyong corrects gently, squeezing Jaehyun’s hand. “I don’t get what this has to do with explaining your, uh, analogy or whatever.”
“It’s—it seems kind of stupid now, I think.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“It kind of is.” Taeyong squeezes his hand again, a show of silent comfort, and Jaehyun figures he’s got nothing to lose, anyway. “The point is—and this kind of makes it seem less meaningful, but I promise that’s not what I mean, but the point is, um, you stole his tires for me. And it’s… my thinking was that I could quote unquote steal your tires—or try to, I guess—for you. I realize as I’m saying this that I’m not making much sense, but uh, you’re just gonna have to deal with that, I guess.”
“What does trying to steal my tires for me entail, exactly?” Taeyong says, “giving me some more practice in changing tires?”
“Do you really need me to say it?”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t get what you mean, otherwise,” Taeyong teases. “Haven’t learned telepathy just yet.”
“You’re being hard about this on purpose,” Jaehyun whines, tugging on his hand. “I’m not—god, okay. I was hoping to get across everything I feel for you.”
“Which is?”
“If you won’t even admit you’re the one stealing his tires, I’m not saying this, either,” Jaehyun tells him and Taeyong laughs. Jaehyun tugs on his hand again, making him move closer, so close that he can map out all the small imperfections on his face, can point out the scar by his eye. So close that he could kiss him if he wanted to, barely even having to move. “Come on, Yong.”
“I’m not—I’m not admitting to something I haven’t done,” he says and Jaehyun’s almost about to start worrying that he’s gotten it all wrong, that Taeyong hasn’t actually been the one stealing Changbin’s tires, when Taeyong laughs, again, giggles breaking through his serious façade. “That’d be like lying in court and shit.”
“I think that’d just count as lying,” Jaehyun points out, “but you wouldn’t be lying, because—you know.”
“I just think it’s a little unfair, is all,” Taeyong says, finally. He takes Jaehyun’s second hand, playing with both of them in the small space between him and Jaehyun. “I’m supposed to tell you something you supposedly already know and I’ve got no clue what you want to say.”
“You’ve got a clue,” Jaehyun argues, immediately. “It’s not—I know you’re not as oblivious as you’re trying to make yourself seem.”
“I might be, though.”
“You’re not,” Jaehyun says and, before he can think better of it, adds, “even if you are, you’d have to be mad oblivious to not figure out I’m into you.” It takes him a few moments to realize what he’s said, but the damage is already done; Taeyong’s met his eyes already, his lips parted in near surprise. “Wait—god, no, this is my confession, isn’t it? That was shit, um. Fuck.”
“If you want to redo it, you can,” Taeyong says, “though I think it’s fine.”
“It’s fine?” Jaehyun asks, incredulous. “That’s all the response you’re gonna give me?”
“I mean—do you want me to respond? I thought you might want to redo.”
“I—ugh, maybe,” he sighs, looking up at the sky if only so he can escape Taeyong’s gaze and gather his thoughts. “I love you, Taeyong.”
“That’s a relief, considering we’ve been friends for the past—uh, decade, almost,” Taeyong says, his smile coming through in his tone, and though he’s purposely misinterpreting his words, Jaehyun can’t find it in himself to be annoyed. “Would be kind of worried if you came out and said you hated me.”
“At least let me finish before you start making fun of me.”
“No promises,” Taeyong tugs on his hands, only stopping when Jaehyun looks at him. He’s smiling, cheeks blooming pink, eyes sparkling in the sun. “You ready for take two?”
“I love you,” he repeats after taking a deep breath. Taeyong’s thumbs skip over his skin and Jaehyun responds by giving his hands a light squeeze, “so much. So much that I don’t know what to do with everything I feel for you, sometimes, and, uh,” he swallows, his throat dry, “lately, I’ve begun to realize that it’s not just… that it goes beyond platonic love. I’ve begun to realize that I’m in love with you, that I’ve been in love with you for quite some time, probably. And—if you feel the same way, I think it’d be worth, uh, trying this out. If not, that’ll be okay, too, obviously, and we’ll just… you know. We’ll be fine.”
Taeyong stays silent. He lets go of Jaehyun’s hands, making his heart drop in his chest—there’s no way that isn’t rejection, Jaehyun thinks, until Taeyong reaches to smooth his hair out of his face and cup his cheek.
“You’re genuinely still unsure?”
“I think I’d have to be insane to be completely sure,” Jaehyun says, even as Taeyong’s fingers keep brushing his skin, even as he reaches his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, making Jaehyun’s hands fall to rest at his sides almost involuntarily. “Or, well. Maybe it’d be nice to have it—you know, uh, confirmed. Nice to hear it, maybe, from the—the person in question.”
“Would it?” Taeyong asks. His hand skims the back of Jaehyun’s neck, fingers cold.
“It would, promise,” Jaehyun slips his thumb through Taeyong’s belt loop, tugging on it slightly, and Taeyong’s smile impossibly widens. “Come on, Yong. Put me out of my misery.”
Taeyong huffs, his low laughter filling the space between them. “Ever so romantic,” he mutters, voice so quiet Jaehyun has to strain to hear him. He pulls on his bottom lip, taps his fingers on Jaehyun’s skin, before he continues speaking. “Not that we both don’t already know this, but,” he sighs, closing his eyes for a moment, “I’m in love with you, too, Jaehyun. Happy?”
“You really could’ve just left it at the being in love with me part,” Jaehyun says, though he’s unable to hold back his smile. His mind is moments away from short-circuiting; his only consolation is that it doesn’t seem like he’s alone in the matter, not with the way Taeyong’s grinning right back at him, his skin flustered and his hands stagnant on Jaehyun. “I think that would’ve done just fine.”
“If you keep being this annoying, I’m not going to kiss you.”
“You want to kiss me?”
Taeyong gapes at him. “That’s what you focus on?”
“I think it’s at least kind of important,” Jaehyun says, “do you? Want to kiss me, I mean.”
“I—maybe,” Taeyong says, his skin growing redder by the second, “can I?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” and Taeyong rises ever so slightly on his toes, steadied by Jaehyun’s hands on his sides, and kisses him. Neither of them are able to hold their cool for long, breaking into smiles, and Jaehyun feels lightheaded, maybe a bit delirious.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.
.
They do end up watching Let It Shine later that day. It’s split into twenty-six four minute youtube videos and each one takes an extremely long time to load on their shitty internet, but neither of them can find it in themselves to care; they’re much too busy giggling on the couch as they belt out the lyrics to their favorite songs from the movie.
It’s late when they finally manage to finish it, the only light in the living room coming from Taeyong’s laptop screen. Jaehyun’s much too emotionally spent to even think about getting up, but the least he can do is close the laptop and struggle with moving it onto the coffee table before either of them accidentally knock it down onto the floor.
It’s not like that hasn’t happened before, after all.
With the laptop safe on the coffee table with only part of it hanging off, Jaehyun settles back against a fast-asleep Taeyong. He picks up his phone from the side of the couch where it had been buzzing for the duration of the movie and idly scrolls through his notifications. Most of them are from Johnny, a variation of twenty different emojis and question marks, sometimes interjected with coherent sentences, across five different apps.
Jaehyun unlocks his phone, sending him a quick message—you good?—and ignoring the typing bubble which pops up almost immediately. He instead focuses on taking a selfie, angling his phone so that both he and Taeyong are in the frame. Unable to stop the smile that pulls on his mouth, he draws on a few hearts with shaky fingers through the Messenger editor, feeling only a little insane.
His heart practically stops in his chest when he feels Taeyong’s hand snake around his chest to poke at his phone and almost push it out of his hands.
“You asshole,” Jaehyun says, pressing his phone to his chest self-consciously, ignoring the way he can feel his whole face heating up. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Were you going to send that to Johnny?” Taeyong asks, the self-satisfied grin that he’s sporting coming through in his tone. “Hearts and all?”
Jaehyun chews on the inside of his cheek. “I was just… fucking around.”
He was completely serious.
“Nooo, it’s sweet,” Taeyong’s fingers reach to dig into the soft fabric of his sweater, to poke at his sides until Jaehyun twists in his seat to face him. He’s smiling, teasingly so, even though his own cheeks are dusted with bright pink. “Just make sure to send me the photo? All I ask.”
“What do you need the photo for?”
“What did you need it for?”
“To send to Johnny, I thought that much was clear,” Jaehyun says. Almost as if on command, Taeyong rolls his eyes, and Jaehyun does his best to placate him by leaning forward and kissing the corner of his lips. “He’s been blowing up my phone since—you know, earlier. Since you came home. I figured he deserved at least some explanation.”
“This is Johnny we’re talking about,” Taeyong says, “Johnny. You send him that picture and I promise you, he’s not going to have a clue what’s going on.”
“No, come on, have some faith in him.” He hesitates before continuing, narrowing his eyes for a moment and sucking in his cheeks, “he did help me try and steal your tires.”
“You didn’t even take off the hubcap.”
“…he helped me set up the jack under your car without breaking anything?”
“I’ll give him that,” Taeyong muses. He reaches to push Jaehyun’s hair out of his face, unable to stop himself from ruffling it lightly, before resting his elbow on the arm of the couch, “and he did help me with the whole… stealing Changbin’s tires thing.”
Jaehyun sits up, Taeyong’s hand dropping from his side at the sudden movement.
“So you admit it,” he says triumphantly, “you did steal Changbin’s tires.”
Taeyong blinks at him. His eyebrows pull together and he opens his mouth, clearly ready to protest, before what he said seems to register in his mind.
“I figure now would probably be a good time to admit that I did steal his tires, yeah,” he says after a few moments. Even though Jaehyun knows this—even though he has known this for the past months, it’s a bit different to hear it from Taeyong. “With Johnny’s help.”
“Mhm,” Jaehyun hums. “Doesn’t it feel good to come clean?”
All he gets in response is a dry look from Taeyong—or as much of a dry look as he can manage, with a smile pushing at the sides of his mouth and coming through in his eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, he can feel Taeyong’s hand settle on his side again and slip under the hem of his sweater, can feel Taeyong’s thumb rub small patterns into his skin.
“Never felt anything better,” Taeyong says and it doesn’t feel like he’s replying to Jaehyun’s question. “I did want to ask, though—how’d you figure out it was me?”
“Who said I figured anything out? Maybe I was just guessing you did it.”
“You’ve known,” Taeyong argues. He drums his fingers on the armrest, keeping his eyes steady on Jaehyun, “since at least… uh, not the last time, but the one before that. I’m like, ninety percent sure of that.”
“If you were so sure, why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” Jaehyun asks, “we could’ve been—we could’ve got all this sorted out much earlier, maybe.”
“I wasn’t completely certain,” Taeyong points out, lip unconsciously jutting out in a pout. “Besides—if you knew, why didn’t you confront me about it?”
“Now you’re just pushing the blame onto me.”
Taeyong grins. “Maybe,” he admits, “how’d you figure it out, anyway?”
“Johnny showed me the post-it you made him sign,” and Taeyong groans, resting his head on Jaehyun’s shoulder in exasperation. “It was a pretty good idea, though. Making him sign it and all. If only your handwriting wasn’t so characteristic, I’m sure you’d have gotten away with it and I would’ve been as clueless as ever.”
“I’ll make sure to print it out next time,” Taeyong mutters, breath hot on Jaehyun’s neck, “so we can test out your detective skills a bit better.”
“I hope there won’t be another ex you’ll have to steal tires from,” Jaehyun says, fingers light on the hairs on the back of Taeyong’s neck before he realizes what exactly he’s implying. “Or—well. You know.”
“‘Course,” Taeyong says, muffling his giggles against Jaehyun’s skin. “I’ll just keep bothering Changbin.”
“Mad sexy, but also, uh,” Jaehyun stammers, trying to think of a good reason to not steal Changbin’s tires. It proves to be a little harder than expected, what with Taeyong so close. “It might be best to leave him alone? I mean, you’ve already stolen, uh, how many was it?”
“Five,” Taeyong provides helpfully.
“You’ve already stolen five of his tires,” he continues, “and it’s not—I’m not condemning it or anything, obviously, but. He’s already tried to play detective. I think it’d be best to let it go for now. Not just for now. Forever.”
“That’s no fun, though,” Taeyong whines, sounding almost like a child. He lifts his head off Jaehyun’s shoulder and rests it instead on the back of the couch, if only so he can make eye contact with Jaehyun. “I thought you didn’t mind the bad boy arc.”
“I don’t,” Jaehyun says, maybe a bit too quickly, judging by the way Taeyong’s lips quirk up. “I don’t,” he repeats, “it’s just—you know. I don’t want you to get in trouble for me.”
Taeyong’s quiet for a moment, lips pressing into a thin line. He slips his hand out from under Jaehyun’s sweater (Jaehyun tells himself he doesn’t miss the physical contact whatsoever) and flicks Jaehyun’s forehead lightly.
“I wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, finally, “though I see where you’re coming from, I guess.”
“So you’re going to stop?”
“Not entirely,” Taeyong says, flicking Jaehyun’s forehead again when he makes a face. “I have something else in mind.”
“You want to bust his windows?”
“I—no,” Taeyong says, his brows knotting together as he tilts his head to the side in thought, and Jaehyun regrets giving him the idea. “Maybe one day,” he says, “it sounds like something to revisit.” He shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch in one smooth move, and Jaehyun tries not to feel too bummed out about the end to their cuddling. “For now, though, I’m fine with just stealing another one of his tires.”
“Huh?”
“I just think it’d be a nice first date, is all,” Taeyong holds his hand out and Jaehyun just blinks. “Come on, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
“You want to steal Changbin’s tires,” he says, slowly, “for… for our first date?”
“Yes,” Taeyong says, wiggling his fingers at Jaehyun, “it’ll be fun, I promise. We can go get fries afterwards, too. Or pancakes. I’ve been kind of craving those. First the tire, though.”
Jaehyun stares at him. Taeyong raises his eyebrows expectantly and Jaehyun only makes it a few more seconds before he sighs in defeat.
“First the tire,” he says, taking Taeyong’s hand, letting him haul him off the couch, trying desperately not to preen at the way Taeyong’s smile widens and his entire face brightens. He doesn’t do a very good job of it, especially not as Taeyong intertwines their fingers and pulls him into a short kiss.
If two of Changbin’s tires end up gone the next morning, they’re definitely not at Johnny’s house, staining his living room wall. And if they keep disappearing after that, every so often—well. It’s not Taeyong’s and Jaehyun’s fault, surely.
They’ve got better things to do, after all.