Chapter Text
He was never supposed to find out. Dokyeom was never supposed to let it slip. If you ask Dokyeom he’ll blame it on the second glass of wine coursing through his body, relaxing him from his tongue to his toes. Emphasis on his tongue. If you ask Seungkwan, it’s Dokyeom conspiring with the universe to bring him down, one angst-filled night at a time. If you ask Hansol, well, he frankly doesn’t give a shit. His self-proclaimed pacifism has gone out the window, and he’s overcome with feelings he is not quite ready to explore. But he doesn’t care about anything else because the bottom line is… no one told him. Seungkwan didn’t tell him. Seungkwan wasn’t planning on ever telling him. Hansol would later find out that he seemingly was the last to find out and he feels… betrayed.
The thing is he never used to be the last to find out about things that pertained to Seungkwan. He never felt like he had to beg or sleuth his way through the Seungkwanverse. Up until about a year ago, Hansol had an all access pass to everything Seungkwan. The Jeju-lover shared everything with him. Some would say he shared too much, but Hansol loved it in his own quiet way. He kept it all in that big, beautiful folder labeled ‘Kwannie’ in his brain. He knew that if he took the SSAT (Seungkwan Scholastic Ability Test) he would ace it on the first try. Or at least he would have before. Now, apparently there’s other experts in this field.
He’s not clueless, despite what the general public and even his members seem to think. He knows when it all went to shit. It was that cursed night. A day after their tour ended. The details surrounding that one stupid conversation are hazy, but he knows the exact moment he, for lack of a better phrase, colossally fucked up. It was a long tour full of injuries, or almost injuries, so Hansol was tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. After long tours he liked to go chill, more so than usual. That probably explains his attraction to Minghao during these times.
Coming off the buzz of thousands of people screaming and staring at you every night requires someone who quietly encourages reflection through activities that allow for imperfection. Although Hansol doesn’t completely enjoy painting, which is an ironic contrast to his artist parents, he finds comfort in that environment. Watching Minghao paint has become his own personal version of watching Bob Ross videos, where he can turn off his brain and just be. Reading around Wonwoo also provides him with that same peace, but that required a little more mental gymnastics than Hansol was able to conjure up on that night.
So there he was, sitting on the floor of Minghao’s dimly lit room feeling like a bag of flesh and bones when he heard a soft, yet determined knock on the door. When Minghao reached over to open the door he saw his best friend’s high cheek bones and bright eyes peek through. It’s one of his favorite sights and he’s seen it enough times that his lack of artistic ability can’t get in the way of him being able to perfectly paint him on the walls in the dark on sleepless nights. This affection is a permanent fixture in his brain and in his heart. It’s been like that since before he could even define the word affection. But…he’s only human. He’s only Chwe Hansol. Despite his strong and sure confidence on stage, he can be awkward and anxiously impulsive to a fault, especially when it concerns a certain someone who makes him feel things he can never put into words.
His inability to properly communicate is by far his least favorite thing about himself. Give him a pen and paper and he almost has Jihoon beat for how fast he can put down his feelings, but talking? Not his strong suit. Up until that night, it had never bitten him in the ass seriously enough to carry consequences, but he should have seen it coming. He should have worked on his communication skills. He should have done many things differently. Hindsight is 20/20 huh? They say that your worst qualities come out with the people you trust most in the world. His person is Seungkwan.
As Seungkwan sat down next to him on Minghao’s velvety maroon carpet and started animatedly speaking about his day and the day before that, Hansol could see their differences clearer than water. While Hansol wanted chill, Seungkwan’s energy sometimes never fully died down. Usually, Hansol welcomed it. It was another one of his favorite things about Seungkwan, right after Seungkwan’s ass (which in Hansol’s head was a perfectly acceptable thing to have in the “my favorite things about my totally platonic best friend” list in his head). He could fall asleep to the sound of Seungkwan chattering away, but that night he wanted quiet. If he had more tact, he’d probably pull Seungkwan close in a familiar way that he knew could communicate ‘its cuddling time and talking time can be reserved for later’. Minghao wouldn’t even bat an eyelash, too used to the odd pair’s dynamic. But alas Hansol was indeed not that smooth, especially not when his brain was on 0% battery power.
So, his impulsive side gave in and all he remembers is rudely interrupting Seungkwan, who was in the middle of talking about an orange cat he made nice with in the park, and said “Is there someone else in the house you could go talk with about this?” He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he had done something. Something bad.
As if he needed anymore confirmation about his fuck up, he remembers hearing Minghao’s small gasp in the corner of the room and if the message still wasn’t clear about what an asshole he was, Seungkwan’s look was all it took for him to regret it all. Seungkwan took the shift from clingy teenager to brooding adult that Hansol experienced like a champ. He was a constant and he tried so hard all the time. Hansol should have known there is only so much Seungkwan could take. His best friend’s heart was giving, and Hansol knew he was lucky enough to be the boy’s favorite charity. But even the richest can run out of stuff to give.
So, when Seungkwan looked at him with those eyes that Hansol refuses to acknowledge became glassy, the air shifted. The ever so polite boy, with years of countless people drilling into him about how over sensitive he was, simply said, “Oh. I’m sorry. No…yeah. I’ll just go. I’m sorry Minghao hyung I didn’t mean to ruin the vibe.” He got up and left. He simply left the room, but looking back on it, he was also leaving Hansol behind. And who can blame him? Hansol certainly can’t. He caused it, and Hansol only encouraged it when he didn’t go after him or when he never took it upon himself to close the ever growing distance that Seungkwan began placing between them after that night.
The other members noticed, of course. Seungkwan became quieter and insisted on having at least 4 members in between them. He was stubborn, yes, but he was also very hurt. Hansol knew that Seungkwan’s fear of being too much weighed heavily on him. Cheol approached him one day. Even Jihoon tried to spark up a conversation about it, but he didn’t have an answer for either of them. He knew it was stupid to let his careless comment become such a giant awkward wedge, but the truth is Hansol needed that distance. Not because he didn’t need Seungkwan. Quite the opposite. He needed him too much and it was something he realized that same night after he left Minghao’s room. He was scripting an apology in his head all night as he lay in bed, because he knew after that look Seungkwan gave him he needed to have the right words. But his mind could only think about three words that scared the absolute shit out of him.
He recalls once having a conversation with Seungkwan about dating and romance. Hansol had expressed to him that when he thought of love, the words came to him in English. He imagines it’s because it’s the language he saw his parents express themselves in throughout their marriage. He found that the words I love you carried so much more weight in his heart than saranghae. Hansol threw saranghaes out like if he was Oprah. You get a saranghae, you get a saranghae! But I love you… no he never felt the need to say it, that was until that night at least. It hit him strong and fast, right in the chest. All he wanted to say to Seungkwan was I’m sorry and those three little, but not so little, words. He loved Seungkwan. He I love you d Seungkwan.
It shouldn’t have surprised him the way it did. Any outsider could have probably seen this coming a mile away, since they were small, frail boys in the practice room all those years ago. But all he felt was fear. Immense fear. Intense fear. He was an idol in love with his fellow member. What else could he feel besides fear. So, he decided to lean into his incompetency in communication and let the distance between him and his best friend grow. He let everyone speculate the distance was about the stupid comment he made and not the giant web of yearning that consumed him. He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell anyone. It would ruin it all, so he pushed down the physical pain he felt when Seungkwan would dodge his touch, stares, and words.
Seungkwan went from being one of the brightest lights in his life to something akin to a co-worker in a matter of months, but Hansol saw this as the only way. He was scared, and some would say it was cowardly, but there was too much on the line. On especially hard days when he really felt the Seungkwan shaped hole in his heart, where all he wanted was for his best friend to grab his hand or hug his side as a quiet, gentle reassurance, all he could chant in his head is this is for the best. But all that went to hell when Dokyeom had his wine-induced verbal slip up.
As Hansol walks uncharacteristically fast out the dorm, up to where he knows the Jeju boy will soon be starting his night-time routine, his impulsive side completely takes over. He’s not one for confrontation, but he needs to hear it from Seungkwan himself. He feels a slight panic in his throat as he bypasses the elevator and chooses the stairs instead. He’s in denial but something in him also knows it’s true. Dokyeom isn’t one to start rumors, especially about his members, so it has to be true. Maybe a misunderstanding? Hopefully a misunderstanding.
He reaches the other dorm in what feels like both seconds and hours. In any other situation he would never barge in to Seungkwan’s room the way he did. His mom, and frankly Seungkwan, would scold him for his lack of manners, but he could not care any less at that moment. He sees the man in question sitting at his desk and clutching his chest from what he guesses is the fear that comes with a determined hoodie clad man knocking down his door. It was funny, Hansol thought, despite the whirlwind of feelings happening inside of him and despite the years of knowing the boy and seeing him in all his states, his heart does not fail to flutter when he lays his eyes on him. Seungkwan’s frightened glare fades into guarded curiosity at Hansol standing in front of him.
“You’re dating someone?” Hansol blurts out before he loses his courage as he’s pierced down by those eyes and engulfed in the sweet smell that bounces off the smaller man’s room.
All hope that he had for this simply being a rumor was gone the moment he saw the slight flash of panic in Seungkwan’s eyes. Those eyes he could read in seconds. It was a skill he had almost perfected. Seungkwan stills for what feels like forever. Hansol doesn’t know whether he would prefer if Seungkwan lied to him or not.
But Seungkwan didn’t leave him much time to ponder over that because in a small but strong voice he says, “Yes.” The tension in the room was suffocating. Hansol knew he had no right to demand answers, but his curiosity took over.
“How long?”
“About 2 months.” Hansol had no right to feel any type of way. But he did. Boy, did he.
“Who is it?”
“I can’t tell you.” That struck a nerve in Hansol. He knew he was being irrational. If this is something he was supposed to know about, he wouldn’t have had to ask. But all he could think about was that Seungkwan was slipping further away from him if that was even possible. He should think before speaking. He knows all of this.
“You can’t or you won’t?” That lit a fire in Seungkwan’s eyes that let him know he should really consider shutting up, and soon.
“I can’t.” Seungkwan said with finality. “I can’t just out him.”
“Do I...know him?” Again, Seunkgwan’s beautiful, stupid eyes gave him away.
At that moment, every single guy Hansol had met in the last 10 years came flooding in to his brain. From idols, actors, and everyone in between. No one was safe in the chaos that was his brain. He knew it wasn’t his own members at least. I mean they couldn’t... right?
“Is it a member?” Hansol tried to hide the panic in his voice, but he knows he failed.
“God, Hansol! No!” At least that provided him with relief. Imagine the awkward staring he would have to do from across the practice rooms?
“Are you being careful?” Hansol asks, but he doesn’t exactly know what he’s asking. Careful of being found out? Careful with his heart? Careful in...other...ways... nope. No. Hansol will not go there, he has no right to go there, and frankly, he doesn’t think he could stomach the image of this faceless man with his hands on Seungkwan.
“Why do you care?” If his every nerve wasn’t so responsive to Seungkwan’s voice, he probably wouldn’t have heard it from how the question was whispered. But he heard it. And that was it. Any last composure he had was gone. He didn’t raise his voice. Especially not at Seungkwan. He knew how much he hated it. But this was too much. He can take pretty much anything but his love for his best friend being questioned. Especially by said best friend.
“Why do I care?!” Seungkwan’s face went through hundreds of emotions in seconds. “Maybe I care because we both know how you act when someone shows any little bit of affection towards you and how it clouds your brain and I might just not be here to clean up the emotional mess you’ll become when he breaks your heart!”
Wow he was being an asshole. A raging asshole. He’s talking out of his ass and he knows it, but judging by the hurt look on Seungkwan’s face, some of that resonated with him. He needs to apologize. He didn’t do it a year ago, but he needs to do it now. He needs to take a walk and not come back until he straightens out what the fuck he’s feeling.
He knows it’s not just that Seungkwan was keeping a secret from him. He knows it’s about those three little words he’s avoided thinking about in relation to Seungkwan. But he can’t start thinking about them now. It’ll just create a bigger mess. So, he’ll start off with sorry and go from there...
“Get out.”
“Wh-what?”
“Get out of my room. Get out of my life for all I care. Just get out.”
“Kwannie-“
“And don’t call me that. Only friends get to call me that.” The venom in his voice was something that had never been aimed at him. Before today being referred to as ‘friend’ by Seungkwan would have probably made him shrink in to himself, but now apparently he wasn’t even that.
“Seungkwan. Please. I’m sorry. Let’s just breathe-“
“Fuck Vernon! Get out please!” And with his tail between his legs he knew he had to leave. He had never hated the name Vernon more than he did at this moment. He barely remembers walking out, let alone reaching his room. He threw himself on his bed, not even considering doing his skincare routine for the night (which was mostly instilled in him by he who must not be named at the moment). It wasn’t until he was under the covers, trying to make his racing heart and thoughts stop, that he realized what he felt.
He was jealous.
He could barely admit it, but he knew that he had to. It was the beginning of him getting his shit together before he lost Seungkwan from his life completely.
He was a jealous, indecisive prick. Fuck.