Chapter Text
The Lee house loomed over them like a gothic castle, and in the dark light of a September night, the shadows stretching over them, it seemed more a scene from a horror movie than it did a typical home in Westchester County, and Jeno couldn't help but wonder if that was what his life would turn into. He could probably pull off the whole "final girl" plot line, and if not he could definitely kick some ass if a psychotic murderer was after him. With that thought in mind, he knocked- once, twice, thrice- each time being as incessant and annoying as possible.
There was a low groan to his left, a clammy, sweaty forehead pressed against his forearm, and he rubbed his free hand in soothing circles on Haechan’s back as they waited.
"Jeno ,” His best friend slurred, breathing sharply through His nose, "I don' feel so good…"
"I know, Haechannie,” Jeno murmured back, bringing his hand up to knock again. He really, really hoped Mark was home, even though he hadn't spoken to him or any of his friends in how many years.
"Just hold on a little longer, okay? He'll answer."
"Who will?" Haechan asked."Mark."
"Why are we at Mark's?" he questioned, surprisingly articulate. "We hav' net spok'n to him in years…" He stopped, frowned, exhaled. "How will he 'elp?"
The more sober of the duo ran His fingers through the others's hair. "He lives the closest to where we were," he explained, and he was glad Haechan wasn't coherent enough to ask any more questions. He couldn't say why he remembered where he lived, or how he knew how to get there from Sungchan’s house.
He just… did, and a little part of him knew it was because two years ago he'd made this trek more times than he could count. Thankfully Haechan couldn't put two and two together in his current state.
Jeno lifted his hand to knock again, fist slamming against the wood in front of him in an irritating song of desperation and fear. Haechan looked like he was ready to upchuck any second and Jeno wanted to get his friend somewhere comfortable and safe before he started. It was one of the reasons he ushered him out of the football party so quickly.
In fact, his phone was still ringing: Renjun was, no doubt, wondering what became of them. Jeno just didn't have the time to explain.
"Jeno," Haechan said.
He heard it before it happened, felt Haechan's entire body shudder, and, as fate would have it, the door finally opened as the he bent his head and vomited on the WELCOME HOME mat in front of the Lee’s white door- no longer as pristine, or pretty, or white now that there were multicoloured chunks of Haechan's exciting, drunken night all over it.
Sheepishly, Jeno greeted Mark (tall, dark, and handsome): "I'll clean that up."
He considered him, considered them- Jeno , in his oversized blue t-shirt and jeans, and Haechan, in his tiny shirt and killer pair of skinny jeans- and merely drawled, "I thought you were the pizza delivery guy."
"I'm not," snapped Jeno, because his friend had thrown up this close to his pristine white sneakers, and because Mark Lee was staring at them like they were some sort of annoying insect he'd love to kill. "But when it comes, I'll pay for it. Now please don't make me beg to come in."
Mark sighed and shouldered his door open a little more, gesturing (albeit sarcastically) for them to enter. He took Haechan's deadweight from his left side, hooking an arm around him and pressing him against his side. Haechan mumbled nonsensically, shifting his weight so his head settled more comfortably on his shoulder.
"Where’d you guys go?" he asked. "The kitchen's the first door on the right and the bathroom is down the hall a little more and to the left."
Jeno kept from saying I know and nodded, rifling through his tote bag for his wallet. "Does sixty cover your food?" he asked, slapping three twenty dollar bills on the small table in the foyer. "If not, just let me know."
Mark wrinkled his nose. "You don't have to pay for-"
"I'm going to," Jeno interrupted. "I'm crashing your-" he broke off as the rest of his friends yelled at something in the other room, a video game, no doubt. "-guys night."
"It's just a normal Saturday night," Mark mumbled, nodding his head so she knew to follow him. "Where’d you guys go?"
“Sungchan’s,” he said, knowing he'd know his old friend better from his middle school nickname than anything else. Sungchan no longer breathed awkwardly, having gotten septum surgery after one too many footballs to the face, and while he was now attractive in all capacities, he was also an important member of the football team.
"I think Haechan just had too much to drink and your house is the closest to his and I couldn't take him home like this…"
"Don't go to football parties, Jen,” Mark advised, stumbling slightly when Haechan stopped helping him. He paused, just outside his den, trying to get His back on His feet.
He ignored the way he called him “Jen” (only his friends did that) and frowned. "Why not?"
"You have to be careful," he said, kicking the door open with his knee. The loud voices of his friends greeted them, shouting over some sort of fighting game- Injustice, maybe, because they were talking superheroes and villains- and Mark, over his shoulder, elaborated, "They spike their drinks."
"They do what?"
"Dude, is that the pizza?" came Yukhei, settled between an arm rest and Jaemin on his side.
"Uh, no," replied Mark, eyebrows pinched as Haechan hiccoughed, "it's-"
"Jeno," he said as he offered a small smile.
Mark transferred his best friend to Jeno’s arms, grabbed the trashcan, and had Haechan's face in it in a record-breaking ten seconds. It would have been impressive had Haechan not heaved into it. He held Jeno 's elbow in a vice-like grip, dragging him down to the ground with him.
Two heads popped over the side of the couch but Jeno was too busy pulling Haechan's hair out of his face to pay any mind.
"What are they doing here?" Na Jaemin asked flatly at the same time Yukhei wondered, "What happened?"
"They went to a football party," answered Mark instead of Jeno .
"A football party." Yukhei wrinkled his nose, dropping his controller. "Don't they- they spike their drinks, right? That's what everyone is saying?"
Mark nodded once, standing imperiously above the two boys. "I was just telling them that." He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowed his eyes at Haechan's pale, prone form. "Yukhei, can you go to my room and get an extra pair of pajamas?" He tilted his head to the side, watched Jeno hold Haechan's hair back from his face.
"Two, actually."
Jeno ignored how uncomfortable hee felt, pretended like he wasn't aware of the aggressive way in which Mark hung around them. Only Yukhei seemed interested and worried and he listened to orders, slipping and sliding in his socks to his best friend's bedroom two floors up. There was a beat of silence, the game still paused, though Jeno wasn't sure why.
They weren't at all concerned about Haechan, that much was obvious; more like they were annoyed with their presence, but Jeno was not going to call Doyoung to drive him back- Haechan would throw up in the car, and that wasn't easy to hide- and he couldn't walk halfway across their neighbourhood with Haechan in this condition. He didn't care if hhe ruined their night or if they were bothered by them, it was the best for Haechan, and Jeno would always do what was best for Haechan, even if it made him want to tear his hair out.
And want to tear his hair out he did. He couldn't help but notice the way they were all kind of just peeking at them- unless you counted Mark, who was angrily glaring and Jaemin, who was very adamantly staring at his fingers.
"What do you mean they spike their drinks?" Jeno softly asked, running his fingers gently through Haechan’s hair.
"Exactly what you think," Mark replied, his defensive pose softening slightly. "The football team is known for it… PCP, roofies, ketamine, what have you… they put whatever they can get their hands on in their punch and have the girls drink it." He licked his lips. "I'm assuming that's what Haechan did."
Jeno frowned. "…But why?"
"Because they can't get anyone on their own, that's why, Lee,” Jaemin replied snottily. He restarted his game, neon colours flooding the screen as he refused to look at Jeno. Jeno felt his stomach drop and ignored the racing of His heart. "And they think it's okay to… to what? Hinder a someone’s decision making so they'll… they'll agree to sleep with them?"
"It's not that they'll agree to sleep with them," Yukhei said, unable to take his eyes off of Haechan, who was now curled up against Jeno 's calf, using his leg as a pillow.
"It's that they… can't say no."
"And they like that?" Jeno spat out, tucking some of Haechan's hair behind His ear. "You know, like… basically forcing someone into doing something he wouldn't even want to do, isn't that- isn't that technically-"
"I haven't heard it actually ever working," Mark said, dropping to the floor beside his. His legs were long but he crossed them, pretzel-style. "The football team is full of assholes anyway, Jen. You shouldn't go to their parties regardless."
"And what parties should we go to, then?" Jeno snorted. "Yours? As if."
Mark smirked. "You're in my house, are you not?"
"Like I said," Jeno shot back easily, "your house is the closest. I couldn't bring Haechan home like this-"
"-aren't his parents hardly home?" he retorted. "What would be so wrong about taking him there and doing exactly what you're doing now? Nothing, right? We're not friends, we'll never be friends- at least that's what you told all of us at one point- so what are you doing here?”
"You let me in," he reminded him weakly.
"True," Mark agreed, "but I could have easily slammed the door in your face. I'd like to remind you that I'm not a terrible person, even though you seem to think I am." He reached a hand out to stroke Jeno’s cheek in some power move. Jeno wriggled out of his reach. "Don't skirt the question."
Haechan moaned, breath hitching, and pushing himself up. "Jeno."
"Yes?” Jeno asked softly.
"Did Mark ever open the door?"
Jeno shot the boy in question a scathing look, but the words out of his mouth were gentle. "Yeah, Haechannie, he did."
"That’s nice of him." Somewhat aware of his surroundings, Haechan leaned over and patted Mark's foot. "I think I’m dying."
Mark lightly placed his hand over his, meeting his glassy-eyed, bloodshot gaze. If Jeno wasn't exhausted and sort of tipsy, he might have noticed the tender way in which he regarded Haechan.
"What'd you drink, Haechan?”
He shrugged, shaking Mark's hand away from him and flopping on the floor.
"What'd he drink?" The question was to Jeno now.
"What he normally drinks?" Jeno replied, more question-like than an answer. "How am I supposed to know? I don't, like, watch his every move."
"Maybe you should," he murmured, grabbing Haechan's foot and tugging it closer, swiftly untying the laces of his black sneakers, “Did he like these shoes?"
"I don't know," said Jeno , watching him.
He shimmied his foot out of one and Haechan giggled something like that tickles.
Mark got to work on the other shoe, carefully avoiding the vomit stain right by his big toe, and said something like we can probably clean these and Jeno ignored the vibrating of His phone.
From the corner of his eye he saw Jaemin stare at him. Jaemin had grown his hair out since shaving it all off last winter. It was thick and wavy, a bit of a mess now, at, like, twelve in the morning, but nice as a whole. His cheekbones were sharp, angular. Squinting, Jeno could see the fading of a bruise on his jawline; she surprised Hisself by wondering what had happened.
He swallowed the discomfort in his stomach, Jaemin was almost a stranger now.
……………..
Haechan tied Mark's oversized sweatshirt shirt at his waist, doing his best to fix the mess that was his hair, and frowned at Jeno. "I can't believe you brought me here.”
Me either, Jeno thought.
"It was either this or drag you all the way across town," he said, rubbing his finger over his teeth in some half-assed attempt to clean them. "And I'd rather not humiliate you in front of all of everyone-"
"Oh, but you'd humiliate me in front of them?"
"Yep," Jeno replied cheerfully. "My first thought when you started vomiting was hmm, you know what will be fun, embarrassing Haechan in front of two boys we don't hang out with anymore and my piece of shit ex! I decided that was an excellent plan so all one hundred and twenty pounds of me pulled you, a dead weight of, like, three hundred, four blocks and an entire neighbourhood over so I could do just that." He rolled his eyes.
"Really, Haechan? I don't want to be here any more than you do-“
Jaemin’s here after all, Jeno thought and felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes.
A flush spread over Haechan’s cheeks. "Sorry," hhe mumbled. "It's just… I don't really know what happened last night and I'd hate to…" he shook his head, pieces of his hair falling into his face.
"Thanks for taking care of me."
"Of course." Jeno flung his arm around Haechan in a tight hug, the anytime you need me went unspoken.
"Now let's go downstairs. Yukhei bought us food."
Haechan groaned. "I cannot go down there," he replied vehemently even though he was following Jeno 's lead. "This is the worst. Can we just skip the breakfast and go?"
"Absolutely not. You need to eat something and I spent sixty dollars on pizza last night, so I deserve this."
"You did what?"
Jeno ignored the overwhelming feeling of dread washing over him. It was one thing to arrive, unannounced, with a sick and drunken friend, but it was entirely another to barge into the aftermath of a sleepover- did boys call it that?- and eat breakfast. Even if the breakfast was for them.
He hoped, making a quick left at the foot of the stairs, that they were all gone by now; it was nearing ten-thirty on a Sunday morning, surely they had soccer practice or something.
But then he heard the quiet murmuring of voices and knew he was wrong.
He never lost a step, though, and he balled up all the courage he could find.
"Look who's finally up," Mark spoke lazily, hands wrapped around a coffee mug. He was completely dressed, baseball hat backwards on his head, and Jeno felt a twinge of discomfort in the fact that he was still in borrowed pajamas.
"Good morning." Haechan brushed the hair out of His face, hopping onto a stool as gracefully as he could. “Where’s Jaemin?”
"Have a seat, Jen,” Mark offered, nodding towards the table. “Jaemin has brunch with his grandparents.”
Haechan nodded, ripping apart the paper wrapped around his food. From the look on hs face, Jeno could tell he was taken aback by the order. It was clear Yukhei still remembered Haechan only ate poppy seed bagels with cranberry cream cheese.
“He left super early, though," Yukhei replied as Jeno took a chair on his left. "Didn't bother to say goodbye”
Jeno swallowed a dry laugh, Jaemin had never been one to bother with goodbyes.
He turned his eyes to Haechan, gently pressing his fingers against the other’s forehead.
“How're you feeling?"
"Okay," Haechan whispered. "Less like I want to die, but not so much that I can…" he gestured with his chin to the bread in front of him, which he was just crumbling into tiny pieces.
"You should probably try though."
"The only thing I really want to do is go back to sleep."
"Feel free," Mark said, putting his empty mug in the sink. "Yukhei and I have no plans today."
On his other side, Yukhei shot Mark a look, cheeks reddening, but Jeno was too busy sharing a significant glance with Haechan to notice.
We're not friends, His eyes seemed to say, so why is he offering up his home?
Jeno blinked back. I don't know.
"Um, I really shouldn't," Haechan protested, "my mother has no idea I'm not at Jeno 's, and that's where I said I'd be-"
"As if Doyoung can't cover for you?"
“He doesn’t know where we are, either,” he said quickly. “He’s probably worried and-"
“He’ll cover for you anyway," Mark interrupted.
Twenty minutes after the movie ended and luckily before Haechan could drop an entire thing of wonton soup on the living room floor, Mark ushered them into his Jeep, dropped Yukhei off at his sister's dance recital, letting Haechan play the same song seven consecutive times, and then all but shoved him out of the passenger seat when they made it to the Lee house.
"Thanks for today," Haechan said, arms full of outfit and shoes.
"Anytime Haechan,” Mark replied, uncharacteristically kind, "you know that."
Haechan smiled, this bright thing against his tanned face, mascara smudges under his waterline and twenty-four hour concealer still stuck to his face,
"We're not friends," he replied fondly, following Jeno up the walkway.
"Nope, not at all," Mark called after them, backing out of the long driveway. "And I'll want my clothes back!"
"We'll see," Haechan shouted back, lifting a hand to see him off.
……………..
.
The next week at school, to the fascination of the entire student body, Mark and Yukhei slid into the empty seats at their lunch table.
"Not friends, remember?" Haechan reminded them, scooting over to make more room for Mark and his gigantic tray of food.
He plucked a grape tomato off His plate, popped it in his mouth, and grinned. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'm not very good at listening."