Chapter Text
Asahi hates this.
Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. He heavily dislikes this.
The café Asahi frequents is far more lively than usual, with the addition of his mother, sisters and extended family. Booking the space upstairs for this celebration was probably one of Asahi’s greatest ideas. It saves him from invaders in his home, and he doesn’t have to clean any mess. A win-win. The occasion? His parents’ 25th anniversary. Why couldn’t they just have a little private dinner with his sisters and them? Why this big event with all these extra people?
Some random aunt claims to have wiped his bum as a baby, and while Asahi can only force an awkward chuckle, he has no clue who she is. It’s merely 5pm, and an uncle that Asahi swears he’s only met 3 times is already popping open the champagne, bragging of the high price it fetches. For the first time in a while, there’s Japanese being exchanged everywhere he turns, whether it’s admiring the art pieces that are displayed on the wall, or about their recent adventures in Seoul.
Being Japanese himself and having lived in the country for 17 years, he should be a veteran. And he is, with language being one of the few academic subjects he could boast about. But has his linguistic abilities gotten slightly rusty after not speaking it for the past 6 years?
Well…
‘Oh yeah, by the way, Asahi-kun, do you have a partner? Like a girlfriend or boyfriend?’ his cousin asks (Mashiro is her name, if Asahi can recall properly), her pig tails bouncing slightly with her animated gestures. And of course, thanks to Asahi’s fucked up hearing and the fact that this petite yet energetic 17-year-old girl is speaking in rapid-fire Hokkaido dialect, he has no clue what she says. A nosy aunt turns her head, a quirked eyebrow and quick hushing bringing more attention to him.
His hearing may be atrocious (ironic, since he’s a musical producer) but in the corner of his eye, he sees her. Expectant with an answer for a question that Asahi doesn’t even know of. His palms are sweating, and he fumbles with the button on his denim jacket. He just wants to get out of this situation.
So what’s the solution to this problem? Just smile and nod. Yes, a simple tight-lipped smile and a quick nod should do the trick.
Oh, there goes the trigger.
Mashiro has a hand over her mouth, squealing with wide eyes. Said aunt now comes to Mashiro’s side, a seemingly fond smile on her face, but Asahi can see the intention behind that look of hers.
‘Asahi-kun has a partner!’
‘Really? What’s their name?’
‘Asahi-kun, are they a he or a she?’
‘Since when did you both start dating?’
Asahi’s heart is speeding up, and a familiar warmth rushes up to his ears. His fingers find the stray pieces of thread on his jacket, and they get to work, pulling and twirling like they’re threatening to rip the garment piece by piece. A he or a she? A partner? Name? Dating?
Oh, no.
‘Sahi-chan, you never told me about this partner of yours,’ his mother pipes, resting a hand on his shoulder as he chuckles nervously. Usually it brings him comfort, but the only thing it does is fuel the gears in his brain to a whirring speed. He swears that he focuses hard enough, he can hear the faint hum of his in his head. In a matter of seconds, he’s the center of attention, 19 pairs of eyes on him.
Quick, Hamada Asahi, think of something! Anything!
‘Uh, yea, sorry, Oka-san (mom in Japanese), he’s trying to keep the relationship hush hush for now,’ he lies. A dodge.
‘Oh, oh! Sahi-kun, you should bring him over on Wednesday! For the dinner!’ Mashiro chirps, essentially buzzing. Why is she excited? Her mother gives her a gentle smack on the head as she tuts, and Mashiro winces slightly at the pain. A close call, but a dodge nonetheless.
For once, bless this auntie.
‘Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I’d like to meet this… boyfriend of yours,’ Mrs. Hamada adds, pinching his cheek. Her smile is innocent, a genuine implication, Asahi can tell, but it’s a fatal blow to his shield. As his relatives begin nodding their heads in agreement, Asahi smiles, but the wires in his brain are all snapping.
Yeah, he’s royally screwed.
🤖
‘Yoon Jaehyuk!’ Asahi barges into their apartment, dumping his tote bag on the ground. He winces when he hears the slight rattle of art supplies in them, but he pays it no mind. This is an emergency and he needs immediate assistance from—
‘Are you eating doughnuts without me?’ Asahi asks, hands on his hips. Like a puppy caught in an act, Jaehyuk peers up from their dining table, cheeks puffy and a dust of icing sugar and chocolate on his lips. The sleeves of his sweater are rolled up, and the box of 12 doughnuts is already half empty.
‘Sorry, Sahi-yah. I couldn’t wait any longer,’ Jaehyuk says, swallowing his chocolate doughnut. ‘I ordered these like an hour ago, and I literally couldn’t focus on anything with these sitting within arm’s reach.’ Only then does Asahi spot his laptop and a stack of books and a file shoved to the edge of the table, like if you were to kick the table only slightly, it would all topple.
Asahi plops himself in a chair and snatches an earl grey one, taking a big bite before rolling his eyes back dramatically and sinking into his seat.
Jaehyuk chuckles, shifting closer to him. ‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ He sticks the rest of it into his mouth.
Asahi nods with a sigh. He doesn’t eat many things (he doesn’t find as much joy as other people in eating), but somehow, the humble doughnut shop, the one that Jihoon and his boyfriend, Hyunsuk opened a couple years ago is able to make him excited about it again. How cute, the two are. He remembers the days of Jihoon pining for Hyunsuk with his pranks and laughter, and with the initial rejections, Hyunsuk eventually opened himself towards Jihoon, and the two have been inseparable since.
‘Oh right.’ Well, here goes. ‘Jaehyuk-ah, I have a request.’
Jaehyuk dusts the sugar off his hands into the box, and turns the chair to face Asahi, giving him his full attention. ‘Shoot.’
‘This is… Oh god, I can’t believe I’m actually asking you this, this is ridiculous,’ Asahi rambles, his hands combing through his hair.
‘Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for the upcoming New Year’s Eve celebration my family is organizing? Because I may or may not have lied about my lack of a boyfriend and now, they’re expecting me to be holding hands with someone and you’re literally one of the only people I am comfortable doing any form of skin ship with aside from Mashiho, Doyoung and Yoshi-hyung.’
There. He said it. Okay, more like spat it out in one shot.
There a silence that follows, slightly uncomfortable, with only the sound of their air-conditioning whirring in the background. Jaehyuk visibly stops breathing, and Asahi catches the slight sign of widening eyes before he recomposes himself a split second later. Asahi knows how Jaehyuk is taking this information, and he honestly relates. This isn’t a question you’d casually ask your best friend of 5 years on a Friday night. He takes a bite of his doughnut in an attempt to seem nonchalant, like he didn’t just ramble to Jaehyuk about his earth-shattering problem.
‘If you’re not comfortable,’ Asahi starts after swallowing, ‘it’s totally okay, I can ask Yoshi-hyung—’
Jaehyuk shakes his head at a comical speed, and he smiles. ‘It’s okay, I can do that. Boyfriends, yes?’
‘Yeah. Boyfriends…’ His voice trails off as he stares at the doughnut box. Maybe… never mind.
‘Pass me the caramel one.’ Asahi makes grabby hands at the little ball of custard and caramel drizzle, shoving the remaining of the earl grey one into his mouth. His arms are too short to reach across the table, and his muscles are too worn to stand up and get it himself. Jaehyuk grabs it, and as Asahi reaches out for the doughnut, Jaehyuk moves it to his own mouth.
‘Hey! That’s mine,’ Asahi says, grabbing Jaehyuk’s wrist. The latter giggles, before feeding it to him, relishing in the massive bite Asahi takes. A spot of the glaze smears on Asahi’s cheek.
Oh, how convenient.
He brings his hand up to wipe it away, but Jaehyuk stops him.
The elder gets a napkin from under the box and inches closer to Asahi, and his breath hitches. They’re so close to one another, and Asahi can pick up the orange-scented lotion on Jaehyuk’s skin. Asahi always knew that his best friend is good-looking, but under the soft moonlight from the window, he looks ethereal. His plush lips are the subtlest hue of crimson, and his palm that touches Asahi’s cheek is warm, so comforting that Asahi almost leans into it.
Jaehyuk wipes away the glaze, and for a moment, time seems to stop. There’s an instant where their eyes meet, and Asahi sees something behind those big puppy eyes, like longing, or hope, or even…
‘If we’re going to pretend to be boyfriends, we might as well get some practice,’ Jaehyuk says, pulling away with a grin. Asahi returns the gesture.
Yeah, this’ll be fine.