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Jaebum and Mark receive a joint invitation to a celebratory dinner for Youngjae’s engagement by mail at Mark’s home address in LA, gilded and glossy burgundy, super formal and sophisticated. It’s kind of surreal to realise that merely five years ago, they would have received notification of all group activities through the group chat they were both — all seven of them — in. They had long left, not together but soon after each other, shortly after the disbandment. It was too painful. They could no longer chat freely without being reminded of what they had lost, what they had given up to pursue their separate dreams.
Over the years, wounds have more or less healed and fresh memories grew blurred. But some things, Jaebum knows, will never be forgotten.
Like the way, even though he’s already thirty, Youngjae will forever be one of their three babies, the most doted-on member of GOT7’s maknae line.
Their friendship, as well, has come far from the days when they shared a room and a bed, and Youngjae was Jaebum’s personal teenage bolster. Back then, they had no secrets from each other. They were so close that when Jaebum fell for Mark, a few years before they disbanded, Youngjae was the first one to know.
Of course, being the loyal dongsaeng he is, Youngjae made it a point to make Jaebum one of the first people he told when he started dating too. So Jaebum and Mark weren’t too surprised when the Dispatch news broke out in Korea, breaking another group of wistful ex-fangirl hearts. Now, they’re not really surprised to learn about the wedding bells too. They privately agreed among the team, long ago, that Youngjae would make one of the best husbands out of all of them. It’s just kind of unreal to think of their boy — one of the kids, as Jaebum and Jinyoung always called them fondly — becoming somebody’s fiancé.
“I guess they don’t know about us yet,” Mark remarks, tucking the invitation carefully back into the envelope after they both read it.
Jaebum shrugs. “Guess so. I mean, I didn’t tell.”
Mark doesn’t reply with the me neither Jaebum expects. He glances at the bandmate he grew up with, the man with whom he’s just decided to take a break with after six years together, and wonders how Mark’s thoughts can still be a mystery to him. Perhaps that’s why they didn’t work out, in the end.
He wonders if this means Mark told Jackson; that they’re talking. They’ve always been in touch — Jaebum with Jackson too — but since Mark flew back to the States to return to stay with his family and accompany Jaebum on his latest international solo tour stops, they’d all started contacting each other lesser.
Maybe Mark reached out to him in China after their decision, though. Jaebum wouldn’t blame him if he did. It’d been a rough choice to make, although they did it together. After all, Mark and Jaebum had been together for six years now, from Korea to California. Their relationship was the only thing that kept them from falling apart during the sorrowful and painful disbandment and subsequent parting of ways. In some ways, what they had been holding on through the last, straggling days before their breakup had more to do with the seven than two of them.
And if Mark has decided that he has been missing one of the other six of them more than anyone else, and that person is not Jaebum — well, all Jaebum can say is that he’s less heartbroken than he thought he would be.
The post-split atmosphere, much like their relationship was, is mostly silent. But where the silence in their relationship was warm and comfortable, filled with understanding, the current one is slightly more awkward and distant. They were same-age friends and brothers long before they became lovers, so they’ve been trying to shift back to their previous dynamic. Jaebum sees no reason why they shouldn’t remain — go back to being — the best friends they were pre-debut, although they’re no longer in love.
Still, it’s easier said than done and he has a feeling that after they return to Korea this time to attend this function, Mark will fly right back to Los Angeles and it will be the last Jaebum sees of him in a while. He’s guilty to be relieved.
“Do you think…” Jaebum starts as they’re waiting for the plane to take off, making small talk to fill the stilted quiet. They’re flying first class, but even the ample space between their seats suddenly doesn’t feel enough.
Mark looks up at him quizzically. Jaebum stays the question on his tongue just before he finishes it. Do you think Jackson and Jinyoung are still together? he was on the verge of asking.
It’s stupid, foolish, and would invite too many searching looks from Mark who still knows him far too well. Of course they are. It’s unnecessary for him to ask. Five years on, Jinyoung and Jackson still get along like a house on fire — even better than they did when they were in GOT7 and always playing up the fan service a notch too steamy for the cameras; each trying to outdo the other’s mischief.
Jaebum should have been perceptive enough to sense the heated flirting going on then. But maybe he was too preoccupied noticing how attractive Mark was, had always been; still is, more than ever.
At least Jinyoung and Jackson had the decency to wait till their run was over to begin any romantic relations. It’s still a sore point on Jaebum’s conscience, how he had been so head over heels he hadn’t been able to contain himself from asking Mark to be with him before they were free from idolhood. Not that they had allowed their budding relationship to interfere in any way with GOT7 or jeopardise the other five, but Jaebum still feels like the leader he hasn’t been for a long time. If anyone knows if Jackson and Jinyoung are still dating, Jaebum is sure it would be Mark. Neither the years nor oceans and continents have been able to separate Mark and Jackson’s best friendship, and although Jackson is with Jinyoung now Jaebum knows he still has a special and irreplaceable bond with his ex-boyfriend.
He’s not jealous. At least, not anymore.
Jaebum could ostensibly check Jinyoung or Jackson’s Instagram, for signs tactfully encoded enough to fly over the heads of the fans, but he as an insider would be able to decipher easily in a heartbeat. Jinyoung and Jackson haven’t come out of the closet with their relationship, per se, but they haven’t bothered to go out of their way to hide it either. They never really cared much about public opinion, especially after they no longer had to upkeep an image of flawless idols.
But Jaebum stopped keeping up with both their social media updates a few months earlier. He didn’t know why, and felt bad to be so petty about his two closest friends — but for some reason, seeing their lovey-dovey couple selcas depressed him and made him feel more lonely than ever.
He would open his chat apps to check if Jinyoung had replied his latest message — at that period, they had mostly been sombre ones about his increasingly ambiguous and frustrating feelings for Mark — and see it read but unreplied, or worse, unread. Then he would click on Jinyoung’s Instagram — which he seldom updated, but more than he did his social media during GOT7 days. But on that day, he would see an obnoxiously adorable, obviously post-coital picture of his two ex-bandmates snuggling up against each other, gazing moonily into each other’s eyes, totally in their own universe. And Jaebum would close the window as quickly as possible, shoving his phone into his pocket.
He knew it was unfair, that it was most likely not the reason why Jinyoung hadn’t replied him. He hadn’t even seen his message; probably was just too busy to check.
But Jaebum still felt horribly neglected.
Perhaps it’s some subconscious lingering rivalry leftover from their boyband days, but Jaebum doesn’t think it’s just because it’s Jackson Jinyoung is prioritising over him. Even after so long, he can’t admit that he’s still not used to being second place to someone else for Jinyoung. There was a stretch of glorious years when Jaebum hyung was the phrase that hung at the corners of Jinyoung’s lips most. Sadly, they have been over for some time.
During the flight, Jaebum sternly lectures himself not to be ridiculous and absurdly possessive. Obviously Jinyoung’s other half would be more important to him than Jaebum, who is only his best friend and ex-bandmate. The days when they lived in each other’s pockets are ancient history by now, probably remembered only by him. He would be an idiot to expect otherwise.
He resolves not to let Jinyoung see how much he minds his recent aloofness. He doesn’t want to affect Youngjae’s good news, Jinyoung’s relationship and both their high spirits. Although they didn’t talk about it, he senses a tacit agreement with Mark to conspire in hiding their relationship status from the other five, so as to avoid awkwardness in general.
But when he sees Jinyoung walking up beside Jackson, the last two guests to arrive at the gathering which turned out to be an intimate private room Youngjae has reserved just for the seven of them at a restaurant, Jaebum can’t hide the way his smile falters slightly.
He feels himself freeze up, suddenly too aware of his entire body and feeling uncomfortable in his own skin for the first time in his life. Because Jaebum has faithfully watched every single drama and movie Jinyoung has acted in like a hardcore fan, even those where he only had a cameo or bit part; tracking his progress in South Korea’s showbiz industry as one of the hottest up-and-coming young actors. But the highest definition on the biggest plasma TV screen had nothing, nothing on the way Jinyoung glows in real life, his aura devastating.
Jaebum is overreacting — he hasn’t seen Jinyoung in barely a year; but no, he hazards another look and forgets how to breathe all over again.
Jinyoung takes the empty seat between him and Youngjae and Jackson makes a beeline for the one next to Mark, lighting up when he spies him. Jinyoung smiles round the table at all of them, emanating maternal warmth, his startlingly dark eyes catching a little on Jaebum’s face but then moving on smoothly as if the nanosecond of awkwardness that stiffened his face had just been Jaebum’s imagination.
Everyone is in boisterous cheer because this is the first time they’ve managed to find the opportunity to meet up together in years, and Jaebum feels bad as a leader for not participating in the conversation but he can’t concentrate. He keeps fidgeting restlessly, burning to steal curious glances at Jinyoung but not daring to, feeling shaken and all over the place for no apparent reason.
To keep his eyes from straying, he focuses them straight ahead, barely registering Jackson and Mark right in front of him huddling far closer together than necessary into each other’s personal space; or the fact that Mark is wearing a face-splitting grin Jaebum hasn’t seen in forever.
Jaebum shifts in his seat, gulping down increasingly long drags of red wine so he won’t blurt out anything stupid. Someone keeps refilling his glass and it takes him a moment to realise it’s himself. He might be getting a tad bit tipsy.
He is studiedly not looking at Jinyoung but still Jaebum can’t help the way every nerve ending in his body vibrates with Jinyoung’s ridiculously deep voice, his senses saturated with Jinyoung’s expensive cologne. He feels like he’s in the pits of hell and heaven simultaneously.
Even when he’s looking at other people, he can’t stop thinking of Jinyoung. He wants to ask Jackson if he only flew back to Korea for Youngjae’s wedding or if he is based here now. If he’s still living with Jinyoung. He almost forgets that he doesn’t need to ask because he already knows. Right. Stupid, stupid.
At some point, he notices a small podium at one wall of the room they are eating in. Youngjae probably got it set up so they could sing each other their latest releases live with a decent sound system, as is their tradition whenever they meet up as a complete group.
Jaebum had prepared his Dream Knight OST to serenade Youngjae, and besides they haven’t even finished eating; but he finds himself scraping his chair back and standing up. The chatter thins out as the others notice his approach to the stage.
Jaebum positions himself before the microphone stand and adjusts the mic clumsily. There’s some screeching feedback and he winces, face growing hot. Everyone has turned in their seats by now and are staring at him as one expectant body. Jaebum catches a mixture of apprehension and open curiosity on Jinyoung’s face, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He’s finally looking straight at Jaebum for the first time since he entered the room and Jaebum feels chillingly stone-cold sober.
Without any introduction, he clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and apropos of nothing launches right into the opening line of the runaway hit b-side on his latest album, titled Litmus. Defying all expectations, it had climbed to top five on Melon and most other charts and spent a full week sitting snugly in the top ten.
He had written and composed it for Jinyoung, about Jinyoung.
Jaebum never intended to sing it live to Jinyoung. He wondered if Jinyoung would know when he heard it, right away, that it was dedicated to him. It’s not the first song he’s written for Jinyoung — a lifetime ago, there had been that birthday version of Hooked, and then the album of Verse 2 they meticulously worked on together. There was Maeil, Can’t, and all the other songs they had penned but never admitted were for each other. But it’s the first song Jaebum has ever poured all his feelings, his heart and soul for Jinyoung into, put their history into words and music in a way that is obvious, incriminating, undeniable. He didn’t doubt that Jinyoung would get it, with his intelligence and sensitivity.
Jaebum feels stripped, naked, his heart laid bare on his sleeve as he sings every painstakingly composed note. Admittedly, it’s a rather pretentious song, comparing a person to litmus paper used to test a solution for acidity or alkalinity; how if this person were a colour he would be the red the blue litmus turns, because he’s never basic but always complex, ever-changing, chameleon-like.
Halfway through the first minute he realises he’s singing acapella without the instrumental or backing track and it’s too late for Youngjae to cue it for him. He squeezes his eyes shut in abject mortification, but doesn’t stop singing.
One more minute into the song, Jaebum finally dares to squint his eyes open and look at his audience. He lets his gaze wander as he continues singing the chorus. He now has the excuse to covertly observe Jinyoung from the stage and his chest clenches to see Jinyoung’s face falling with something that looks like dismay. For some reason Jaebum cannot decipher, Jinyoung appears pained, his features tightening. Jaebum is confused and worried, not knowing how to interpret the enigmatic expression.
Is Jinyoung… disappointed in him? The lyrics? The melody? Or his voice? Jaebum thought that his singing skills have improved in the past few years, but now he feels doubtful and self-conscious. His stomach swoops and sinks, bitterly disappointed by Jinyoung’s response and disappointed in himself too.
His heart aches at Jinyoung’s expression, somehow guarded and defenceless at the same time and his panic builds. He had just assumed Jinyoung would like all his work, been overly confident and presumptuous, but… doesn’t Jinyoung like the song?
Doesn’t Jinyoung like him?
But he tries not to let it show in his face. He continues singing, like his life depends on it, because he doesn’t know what else to do. His voice has always been his only channel of expressing his feelings and emotions; he isn’t like Jinyoung or Jackson who is good with speaking. He continues singing because he wants to finish the song, to deliver his message to Jinyoung, no matter the outcome.
Jaebum raises his voice as Jinyoung’s face grows more and more inscrutable. He belts out the lyrics he wrote with the passion and intensity he composed them with.
He finishes the song rather anticlimactically with his voice cracking embarrassingly on the last word. Scattered but supportive applause rings out from the other five, who look slightly flabbergasted by his impromptu and impassioned rendition. Jaebum hopes he doesn’t look like a ripe tomato, although he feels like one.
He stumbles off the small stage on leaden, wobbly legs. Jaebum feels like he just made the biggest fool of himself, even more than all the times he made mistakes and slipped and fell onstage, on broadcast. He wants to hide in a cave for the next fifty years and never see any of them again.
“I can’t stand this anymore!” Jackson bursts out suddenly, making them all jump and spin to look at him. Jaebum finds himself shrivelling under Jackson’s formidable glare. “Wasn’t the past few months of bombarding Jinyoung’s inbox with all your angsting over Mark enough? With all due respect, Jaebum hyung, how could you go up there and shamelessly sing the song you wrote for Mark hyung in front of me — I mean, in front of Jinyoungie? Jinyoungie who has been working on a script with you as the main actor for a year, planning to cast you in his directorial debut, designing the character specially and lovingly to fit you? Jinyoungie who has been hung up on you since fucking eighteen?”
When Jackson finally comes to a panting halt, Jaebum blinks owlishly at the torrent of indignant words, as bowled over as all of them. He sputters, mind stuck on Jinyoung being hung up on him since eighteen and angsting over Mark because what?
There is an astonished, pregnant pause as they all process Jackson’s tirade, before Jaebum croaks pathetically, voice still hoarse, “Wh-what?”
“Idiot!” Jinyoung is on his feet, his voice like a foghorn and his eyes misty as through threatening to spill over. Jaebum is shocked to see tears standing in his eyes as he fiercely glares through them at Jackson in a decidedly un-loverlike way. “Why the hell would you expose that, Wang Jackson?!”
In the next moment, three things happen simultaneously.
Jaebum looks at Jinyoung trembling like a leaf, his perfect composure undone, looking so vulnerable as he fights back tears, and unconsciously steps forward with something like pure instinct, something like reflex and muscle memory. He takes Jinyoung into his arms without even thinking about it.
Mark drawls with calm relief, “Took you long enough, Jinyoungie.”
When Jinyoung stiffens in his embrace, trying to pull away, Jaebum shouts with unnecessary loudness in his still-raspy voice, “I WROTE LITMUS FOR YOU, PARK JINYOUNG!”
*
It’s three minutes and one momentous revelation later and everything, everything has changed. The room is blanketed by a grave and respectful silence which grows increasingly awkward. Jinyoung is stock-still in his arms, staring up at him with comprehension slowly dawning in his thunderstruck eyes. Jaebum tears his gaze away from Jinyoung’s soulful eyes blazing with disbelief and finally opens his mouth to shatter the tension of the life-changing moment.
“And I thought you were the more perceptive one between us.”
He curses at the snarky words that slip from his lips out of nervousness, ruining the moment. But the flood of relief and happiness surging through him that Jinyoung loves him; Jinyoung loves him; Jinyoung loves him makes it kind of hard to think straight or speak cleverly. The little left of his coherence is effectively destroyed by the brilliance of Jinyoung’s shaky, dazzling smile.
At least his voice doesn’t break again. He doesn’t know what it is about Jinyoung that always brought out the bratty, juvenile teenage boy in him at sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one and still does at thirty-two. “Couldn’t you recognise yourself in the lyrics? In the song?”
He regrets his provocativeness instantly when Jinyoung stops shaking in his arms and starts bristling, his hackles rising. He steps neatly out of Jaebum’s grasp, to his great woe.
Jinyoung’s eyes flash with a familiar insolence, mellowed but still as playful and competitive. But his voice is disconcertingly soft as he retorts, “Well, you probably don’t know, but I used to, all the time. Before I realised how stupid I was being.”
Jinyoung’s tone is edged with bitterness, but there’s a soft, luminous hope that is entirely sweet in his eyes.
“You’re not stupid,” Jaebum says roughly, aware from the avid gazes and open mouths of the peanut gallery that he is showing more of his innermost sides to them in all the years they’ve known each other, but beyond caring. “You are my muse. You’ve always been.”
He thinks he hears a muttered corny, someone cringing audibly, but he doesn’t even bother to break eye contact with Jinyoung to see who it is. The world seems to fall away as he gazes deeply into Jinyoung’s intense eyes across the distance between them, searching their murky and darkened depths, trying not to let his gaze stray to the pretty, pretty blush staining Jinyoung’s milky skin red.
It’s his turn for twenty questions now. Jaebum pins Jinyoung with his eyes, and tries to find his voice, something that has never happened to him in all his years as a singer. Stage fright has never been his thing. But now, Jaebum is floored to find himself dumbfounded and cold sweating before an audience of one — Jinyoung, his most important and priceless fan, the person who has been listening to Jaebum sing, since even before he knew how to sing.
Jaebum struggles not to dissolve into emotion — another thing that never happens to him. He’s not surprised — after all, even before they realised how much they meant to each other, Jinyoung had been picking up all his firsts as if he was plucking cherry blossoms off a tree.
“I thought you and Jackson were still together,” is what he comes up with, in the end. He slaps his forehead inwardly for being so lame, but Jinyoung has snapped his head up, expressive eyes turning stricken.
“Why would you think that?” He sounds incredulous. “I’ve done everything short of announcing our breakup publicly on all my social media. Jackson too.”
Jaebum hears a snort he doesn’t need to turn around to identify. “Yeah, when you didn’t get the first five hints I figured I should be a gentleman and offer a parting gift of helping Jinyoung get the news out to the blockhead he’d been pining after since forever.”
Jaebum blinks. “You… you did?”
“Hyung,” Yugyeom cuts in knowingly, with an impressive grasp of the situation, “When did you last check Jinyoung hyung’s social media?”
“Uhh…” Jaebum lowers his eyes to study the ground shiftily. His mind is racing.
“Aren’t you following me?” Jinyoung shrills accusingly. He looks outraged, as if he’s about to whip out his phone on the spot and double-check if Jaebum is among his gazillion followers.
As if he’s done it countless times before.
“Of course he is,” Mark pipes up in his familiar placating tone and for a moment, they’re back in 2017 again — their lucky year, the year they had really blown up and reached superstardom, promising the fans tearily to stay together for the next seven years. And they kept their word, in a way, Jaebum thinks, looking around at all seven of them gathered together, as if not one day has passed.
As he used to, Jinyoung softens immediately and looks appropriately mollified, shooting a chastened and apologetic glance at Mark as if he’s still the oldest hyung in their group. It’s amusing and Jaebum wants to laugh; wants to cry at Jinyoung standing before him, looking immortally gorgeous and like he hasn’t aged a day since fifteen, eighteen, twenty-one. He was beautiful at all of those ages, but Jaebum never noticed. He never noticed anything until much later on, after everybody else. But Jinyoung adored him all the same.
“It was my fault,” he hastens to blurt out, not expecting Jinyoung to echo the exact same words at the exact same time. They both widen their eyes at each other in comical synchronicity.
“Dude!” Jackson whines, above Bambam and Yugyeom’s howls of laughter. “Why weren’t you guys this in sync when we practiced choreography, huh?”
Mark’s hilariously squeaky laugh breaks the ice.
“Jackson’s right. I’m a blockhead,” Jaebum concedes gallantly, but Jinyoung beats him to the punch.
“No, I shouldn’t have acted so dumb and petty and tried to make you jealous by acting happy; shouldn’t have ignored your messages and played hard to get when I could just have confessed to you honestly.”
“No need to argue, you’re both idiots,” Bambam says bluntly, settling their first lover’s tiff unceremoniously.
“Yeah, we know you’re like, almost forty, but haven’t you guys heard of this thing called communication?” Yugyeom rolls his eyes impudently.
When Jinyoung and Jaebum whirl on them to glower as one, scandalised as parents, Bambam shrugs nonchalantly. “What? You’re no longer GOT7’s mom and dad.”
“We’re still your hyungs!” Jinyoung shrieks dangerously. Jaebum covers his mouth and swallows a giggle, trying to look stern.
“For the record,” he quickly says to take the heat of Jinyoung’s wrath, which looks real, off a shrinking Bambam. “All my songs are for you. They’ve always been.”
The simple words have a greater impact than he expected on Jinyoung. His eyes are shiny, Bambam forgotten, as he turns back to Jaebum and asks with equal simplicity, “Really?”
Jinyoung is looking at him with such awe and worship, such tenderness, that Jaebum can do nothing but nod.
It’s only as he does that he realises the words are not just romantic but utterly true. Sure, it would be a stretch to say that all his solo songs were about Jinyoung — some were about his life, his thoughts and feelings; and yes, a few about Mark — but Jaebum realises that every song he sang, he has been thinking about Jinyoung. He has been singing them for Jinyoung. Somehow, even when he was singing about totally unrelated topics, midway through the songs, a certain lyric, a certain twang of guitar strings or lilting instrumental, a certain indefinable something about the music would make Jinyoung surface, unbidden, in his thoughts. It would be for such a brief moment that Jaebum had already forgotten it before it was over, and thought nothing of it after the song ended. But the journey of every song led in some roundabout way to Jinyoung, just like the foggy and twisting path of his life has led him back to the same boy he started out with in the end.
“Uh, hate to break up the love fest,” Youngjae deadpans from where he’s been forgotten for the past quarter of an hour. “But I thought this was my night.”
Although he sounds less grouchy than amused, Jinyoung immediately abandons Jaebum to turn all his attentions on the poor neglected groom. They all apologise contritely to him for getting carried away like a bunch of gossipy schoolgirl matchmakers.
“It’s alright,” Youngjae sighs magnanimously. “I expected nothing less from our embarrassing parents who always steal the show.” The other four hoot with appreciative laughter at his joke and Youngjae beams, all innocence, but Jaebum feels an ominous premonition at the mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“Then, as the star of the evening, I would like to show off how much my voice has improved since you all last saw me,” he announces proudly with ceremony.
They all applaud with genuine enthusiasm, leaning forward in their seats as Youngjae takes the stage with aplomb. Youngjae’s voice has always been a thing of beauty, even at eighteen when they were still struggling to be noticed. The lead vocal of their group was their greatest pride, someone who couldn’t not be noticed if he tried.
Jaebum shifts in his chair next to Jinyoung, learning back and waiting to be amazed. And he is.
Instead of any of the songs from his numerous solo albums Jaebum knows by heart, Youngjae launches into an unfamiliar English ballad Jaebum had no idea he even knows. And yet, the moment he hears the lyrics in Youngjae’s haunting dulcet, he agrees with Youngjae that it’s the most appropriate song he could ever dedicate to Jaebum and Jinyoung.
While everyone else is mesmerised by the sheer breathtaking beauty of Youngjae’s thirty-year-old voice, Jaebum reaches out under the table to fumble for Jinyoung’s hand in his lap like a teenager. His own heart is beating through his fingertips.
Jinyoung’s hand is soft and unbelievably familiar, the grooves like a map etched on Jaebum’s own. He knows these lifelines and lovelines by heart, the way he knows everything about Jinyoung as if the knowledge is tattooed on his very being. From the time they met at fifteen, through the decades, there’s nothing Jinyoung hasn’t seen or accepted about him.
Jinyoung turns and meets his eyes shyly. Jaebum sees the same pride in Jinyoung’s sparkling eyes he feels bursting for Youngjae, both their favourite singer in the world. He also sees that he doesn’t have to say anything at all right now, just stay quiet and enjoy the song. Because without a word, Jinyoung already understands everything.
*
(“How can parents kiss in front of their children?” Bambam squawks bitterly in complaint just before their lips touch.
Jaebum sniggers, “You’re not a child anymore.”
Jinyoung looks annoyed at the interruption, grabbing both sides of Jaebum’s face with his hands to keep him still. “Didn’t you already disown us?” he throws to Bambam over his shoulder gleefully, making the centuries-old meat grudge resurface in Jaebum’s memory. Jinyoung moves in with intention and plants a satisfying smooch on Jaebum’s lips.)
((“Aww, Bammie, are you jealous everyone has someone to kiss except you? You can kiss me!”
They dimly hear Yugyeom’s voice in the background, but don’t bother to break their lengthy and passionate lip-lock to tell their kids not to kiss each other. Even parents deserve a day off on their honeymoon, after all.))