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Changbin doesn’t know why he does this to himself.
Call it masochism, call it self-loathing—call it whatever you want.
It’s a well-known fact that he has a soft spot for the younger members of the group. He spent the better part of their early years mediating their arguments, serving as the necessary voice of reason. Or at least as someone willing to listen when the boys were too wary to approach Chan or Minho.
And of those younger members, Changbin has known Han Jisung the longest.
Jisung has a unique air about him, a natural charisma, that draws people in like moths to a flame. When he was younger, fellow trainees avoided him because of his ego, which Changbin understood. He also found it difficult to adjust to, considering how similarly stubborn and hard-headed he could be. He and Jisung butted heads from the get-go. But, as Jisung matured, he settled down—they both did.
Well, okay, Jisung is still wild, still Jisung, but in the best way possible, retaining all the qualities that made him irresistible. That made a person want to protect and care for him. He’s fun and exciting and keeps Changbin on his toes. He’s the sharp-witted lyricist that their group—and, in turn, Changbin—never knew they needed until he was dropped in their laps.
As luck would have it, though, Changbin craves Jisung’s companionship more and more as the years fly by.
It’s weird how these things happen, how they work. At the start, Changbin wouldn’t be caught dead outwardly showing Jisung affection. Not because he didn't care about Jisung! It was simply his way of keeping Jisung's ego in check and from letting his head inflate to gargantuan proportions. Plus, it helped Changbin maintain a healthy amount of distance, knowing he could grow very attached, very easily, if he allowed himself.
So, all-in-all, Changbin may be a masochist after all.
They’re in the studio on a Monday night. The lingering scent of a rushed ramen dinner hangs in the air, warm and savory, along with an undercurrent of coffee and their combined cologne. Although Changbin and Jisung can be loud and boisterous with or without Chan, they’ve unspokenly opted for a calmer atmosphere this evening. Which can mostly be attributed to Jisung, who has barely said a word since their brainstorming session began.
After Jisung’s fourth random sigh, Changbin decides he’s had enough. He can’t help but wonder if Jisung is acting out of sorts because of a certain… video that was uploaded on their channel today. So, Changbin leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, well-aware that it paints an intimidating picture, even if Jisung has taken to the same daily weight training as him.
“Okay, spill,” Changbin says. “I can’t handle this tension anymore, man.”
Jisung pauses with the tip of his pen pressed to the page and peers up through his lashes at Changbin. “Huh?”
“I wasn’t born yesterday. I can tell something’s bothering you.”
“No, I'm—What? I’m fine.”
Changbin rolls his eyes. So, this is how Jisung wants to play it?
“Alright, let’s pretend I believe you,” Changbin replies, gesturing at the hastily scribbled lines, surrounded by aimless doodles, on Jisung’s page. “You’re clearly struggling with lyrics right now. That doesn’t just happen out of the blue.”
Jisung finally looks up but remains hunched over his notebook. “It’s nothing important, okay?”
Well, ‘nothing important’ is a step up from ‘I’m fine.' At least Jisung’s admitting that something’s wrong.
“Nope, no such thing,” Changbin huffs. “If it’s blocking your brain from writing lyrics then it’s ‘important’ enough. And I’m here to talk about it.”
“I’m—"
“Unless it’s needing romantic advice.” Changbin snickers. “Then, I can’t be of much help.”
Changbin has made similar comments in the past. Often before launching into deep discussions and often enough that the disclaimer feels second-nature. In his eyes, it’s only fair. His love life is nonexistent and fraught with useless pining and sexuality crises. No need to sugarcoat it.
But to tell Jisung, who he may or may not—emphasis on the 'not,' he swears—have feelings for, is a majorly awful decision. To make matters worse, Jisung’s eyes widen and cheeks flush like Changbin just hit the nail on the head.
Ah.
As much as it hurts to admit, Changbin bets it’s related to Minho and Hyunjin, who he’s convinced Jisung has a collective ‘Thing’ for. He figured something like this might happen, even before watching the final edited version of Minho and Hyunjin’s ‘2 Kids Room’ episode himself.
“Oh, shit, sorry,” Changbin blurts. He reaches out and squeezes Jisung’s knee, hoping to communicate some level of reassurance. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s okay. I understand not wanting to talk about relationships with me.”
“I’m not—It’s not like I have a ‘romantic’ relationship to speak of.”
“Oh. Oh.” Jisung jerks his head in a nod. “I didn’t… know that.”
“Wait, what?”
“I mean, your lyrics are a little…”
“Dude, the second I started dating someone, you guys would know. Would probably be the first ones I'd tell, honestly.” Changbin searches Jisung’s face. “You know that, right?”
Something suspiciously akin to pain glimmers in Jisung’s eyes. “Oh, I mean—Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Did Jisung really think Changbin would keep his romantic relationships—or lack thereof—a secret from him? Hell, Changbin can’t stomach the thought of keeping it from anyone in their group. Let alone Jisung.
“Yeah, I’m hilariously, tragically single.” A chuckle. “For obvious reasons.”
Jisung remains quiet.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have shot you down right out of the gate,” Changbin rushes to add. “If you want to talk about being madly in love with someone, I should let you. That’s what a good hyung would do.”
Jisung groans and buries his face in his hands. “Hyung.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
Changbin takes a second to study Jisung’s appearance. Tousled hair pokes out from beneath his black bucket hat, the familiar teddy one. His irises are a rich brown color, heart-shaped mouth curved into a pout. But Changbin is more concerned with the faint dark circles carved into the smooth skin under his eyes.
What was it that Changbin said during the recording for today's episode?
Other than Jisung's constant fidgeting, the set had been comfortable that day. A table of food off to the side with finger foods and snacks, cold bottles of water, a relatively small film crew. Changbin had forgotten how much he enjoyed these recordings until they began filming them.
“But there’s this about you,” Changbin had said, motioning at Jisung. “You make people want to look after you.”
And Jisung, looking devastatingly soft in his blue sweater and fluffy slippers, hadn’t hesitated to respond, fixing those doe eyes on Changbin. “Me? Would you like to do that?”
Of fucking course Changbin would. If only Jisung knew.
Changbin would look after Jisung until their hair turned gray and their skin wrinkled, chuckling over fond memories and crying when their discussions became too nostalgic. Jisung only had to say the word.
When present Changbin finally answers, the volume, his inflection—it’s strictly reserved for Jisung. Specifically during vulnerable moments like this. “You can tell me anything, you know?”
Jisung stiffens but lifts his head, lowering his voice to match Changbin’s. “Are… Are you sure?”
“Completely positive.” Changbin slaps on a smile. “Swear on Channie-hyung’s laptop.”
Jisung snorts. “Wow. I’ll tell him you said that.”
“Stop stalling!” Changbin jokingly smacks Jisung’s thigh. “I’m not getting any younger.”
For a moment, Jisung looks mischievous, like he’s prepared a joke related to Changbin’s age (which he almost definitely has). But then he deflates, his expression morphing into something far more serious.
“Well… there is someone that I…” Jisung hesitates, making a tiny gagging noise. “Like, I guess.
Oh. He’s serious. Changbin’s heart plummets, sinking to the bottom of his ribcage like an anchor dropped at sea.
“And, see, the thing is,” Jisung rambles, “I can’t figure out how they feel about me. Like, I can’t tell at all.”
“Have you… have you tried talking to them?”
Jisung aggressively shakes his head. “No. Nope, absolutely not.”
“Wh—” Changbin laughs. “What’s with that reaction? Why not?”
Jisung’s face cycles through a myriad of emotions. Shock, guilt, a touch of fear. His stare intensifies, too, like he’s peering into Changbin’s soul, making Changbin squirm.
“Because,” Jisung says, “I don’t think it would go well.”
Changbin can’t imagine anyone rejecting Jisung, especially Hyunjin and Minho. Regardless of their notoriously rough start, Jisung and Hyunjin have grown quite close. And Minho, well, he’s always been whipped for Jisung, much like Changbin is.
“Seriously? I gotta be honest, I can’t imagine someone saying ‘no’ to you.”
Jisung mutters something unintelligible under his breath, and Changbin’s brows crawl up his forehead. “Huh?”
“Nothing,” Jisung sighs. “But I really don’t think it would end well, hyung. Romance is complicated enough for us, for idols, as it is. I can’t imagine it working out between…”
Here, he hesitates the longest. Changbin waits, patient like he prides himself on being, but becomes antsy when it seems like Jisung won’t ever finish.
“Between two men,” Jisung concludes like the admission has been punched right out of him.
Although it’s what Changbin suspected, he can’t deny that he started to second-guess himself. And he hates the way a few simple words have his mind in shambles, caught between hope and the suffering that comes with impending rejection.
Jisung may not seem rejectable, but Changbin? He’s been rejected before.
Unfortunately for him, his silence only serves to make Jisung panic, turning him into a potentially bigger mess than Changbin.
“Oh, fuck,” Jisung blurts, “I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up. I mean, I thought all of us were, you know, bisexual or gay or, shit, shit—”
Changbin reaches out to Jisung, returning both hands to those bony knees. They’re wobbling, anxiety rolling off his body in monstrous waves, but Changbin keeps his grip firm—reassuring. Or at least that’s his aim. He’s been on the other side of this conversation before, in Jisung’s shoes, and he recalls how absolutely fucking terrifying it can be. Especially the first time.
Changbin easily recalls the jitters, his sister’s expectant stare, the bone-crushing weight of the truth.
Has Jisung told anyone else?
“Hey, calm down.” Changbin drops the volume of his voice to a soft rasp. “You’re totally right. I’m—I’m gay, if that makes you feel any better.”
It’s Jisung’s turn to stare at Changbin in wide-eyed wonderment. “Oh. Oh, okay, I—I thought so.”
Changbin smirks. “What are you trying to say, Jisungie?”
Luckily, the comment has the intended effect. Jisung scoffs in disbelief, placing his small hands over Changbin’s, perched on his kneecaps. He squeezes Changbin’s hands, igniting flames from the point of contact, blazing a path up Changbin’s arms.
“I get it, you know,” Changbin continues. He figures it will help Jisung feel more comfortable if he hears Changbin lay his own heart on the line. Even if he is conveniently leaving out an important tidbit of information. “Falling in love with another guy.”
Jisung goes silent, but Changbin notes the way his shoulders sag, his legs no longer shaking.
“And…” Changbin pauses. He can’t tell Jisung it’s someone else in the group. Process of elimination will only end up crushing his hopes and dreams. “Anyway, I understand because I’ve had feelings for… a friend before. It’s scary.”
At least that part isn’t a lie, whether or not Changbin includes Jisung in his list. When Changbin was a young trainee, there was a boy he grew close to. They practiced choreographies together, visited each other’s homes, and Changbin went so far as to help him with his rapping. But when Changbin let it slip that he might have a crush on him, his ‘friend’ no longer wanted anything to do with him.
Thank god Chan and the rest of Stray Kids swept into his life shortly thereafter.
“Even if you’re not ready right now, I think you should talk to them. Sooner rather than later. And if they’re a true friend, they’ll try to work things out even if they don’t feel the same.”
Jisung nods, holding Changbin’s gaze. A little too intently for Changbin’s liking.
“But what if they don’t want to work things out? What if they don’t want to be friends anymore? Or… or don’t even want to see me again?”
“Then, fuck ‘em,” Changbin replies bluntly. “But obviously not in the literal sense.”
“God.” Jisung chuckles. “When did you get so bold, Changbinnie-hyung?”
Changbin savors the change in Jisung’s demeanor. He hates to see Jisung upset. More than anyone else, maybe.
After all, when Jisung’s world crumbles, Changbin’s does, too.
“Not bold. Just right.” Changbin pats his chest. “Any man with principles knows that shitty people can’t handle their friend having a crush on them.”
A hesitant smile tugs at the corners of Jisung’s lips. Changbin can’t help the way he zeroes in on it, entranced by that cute chocolate chip mole on Jisung’s cheek. What he wouldn’t give to confess and prove to Jisung how lovable he is. How willing Changbin is to look after him—to be that person for him.
“Now that you mention it,” Jisung says, “I think I am ready.”
“Really? That’s a big step, man. That’s awesome.”
“Yeah… hopefully.”
Changbin narrows his eyes at Jisung. He’s about to remove his hands, to spout more comforting words, but Jisung beats him to the punch, trapping Changbin’s hands in place.
“Hyung.” Jisung brushes his thumb across Changbin’s knuckles. “I… I think I need to tell you something.”