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1.
Not to be dramatic, but Yang Jeongin could easily divide his life into two neat halves:
- Before Seungmin
- After Seungmin
Before Seungmin, from the day of his conception to the few months of him being twelve, Yang Jeongin was just the kid with a stellar brain, a penchant for building complex Gundam models and robots, and a near bordering unhealthy fixation on Spongebob Squarepants. He doesn’t remember much of his early childhood. The days seemed to blur from one academic competition to another, appointments with doctors, I.Q. tests, and that one memorable occasion when his parents were informed that he could easily enter university as early as ten years old.
(“Oh, heavens no! I’d rather our Jeongin stay with his peers. Those college kids are dangerous!”
His father had only nodded silently in agreement. But both of them turned to him, and his mother bent down and asked him, gently, “But what about you, baby? Do you want to play with the kids your age or would you like to study with the grown-ups?”
Jeongin had only one concern:
“Where will I have enough time to watch Spongebob?”
And that was that. He skipped only one grade (just to save a bit of tuition money, his mother explained sheepishly), and then he met–)
“Seungmin, have you ever watched hentai?”
“What the fuck,” Seungmin deadpanned.
The two of them were lying side by side on Jeongin’s fluffy, sizable racecar bed. It was a lazy weekend; Seungmin a month’s shy away from 14, and Jeongin already 13. They were supposed to be studying. Jeongin had breezed through the Maths and the English and the Social Studies homeworks. Seungmin struggled and hemmed and hawed and tried his best to listen to Jeongin’s patient rambling. Jeongin just wanted to play, so at one point he gave up on trying to teach Seungmin and just did his homework.
(“I’m not paying you shit because I didn’t ask you to do this.”
“Just shut up and play with your dolls or whatever.”)
Jeongin repeated the question. “Have you ever watched hen–?”
“My mom says kids shouldn’t be on the internet so much. Who even taught you that?”
Jeongin frowned and scrunched his eyebrows, staring holes into the ceiling. “The big kids were talking about it. Said it was really good anime. I thought you’d know it.”
Seungmin sputtered, “Wait–what do you think is hentai?”
“Isn’t it like, a Japanese cartoon? Like the ones you watch all the time?”
“Wha–no! Jeongin, that’s–no. I don’t watch that, and it’s better that you don’t go around looking for it either.”
Jeongin turned his head and glared at his friend. “What, you think I’m too chicken?”
Seungmin groaned and put aside the manga he had been trying to finish until Jeongin, the dumbass, rudely interrupted him.
Seungmin turned on his side and scooted a little closer. Jeongin gazed at his friend’s serious face; chubby and brow furrowed. Jeongin snorted. “You’re like my dad when he’s trying to solve the crossword.”
“Shut up. Now promise me you won’t try to look up what hentai is.”
“Or what,” Jeongin challenged, turning his nose up as best he could with his cheek smushed onto the pillow.
Seungmin smirked and he inched closer ( okay, too close, too close ), “I’ll give you a big smack!”
And Seungmin lunged forward, lips puckered, and Jeongin’s heart skipped a beat.
Jeongin leaned away, shoving his friend’s shoulder, yelling, “Gross! That’s gay!”
“What, you don’t wanna be gay with me, Innie?” And Seungmin smacked his lips, mockingly trying to land a big smooch on his younger friend.
“Ew! In your dreams, dude!”
The push-and-pull quickly descended into an impromptu wrestling match, the two of them roughousing and screaming so loud, Jeongin’s mother promptly swung the door open and sternly asked, “Boys, what is going on?”
And the two of them were too lost in peals of laughter, and Jeongin could hardly remember what even made them start the whole ‘fight’.
Jeongin could only wheeze, in between bouts of giggles, “Seungmin’s being stupid!”
“No, Mrs. Yang, Jeongin–!”
Mrs. Yang felt a smile tugging at her lips, but she had to put up a stern front. “Enough horsing around! Go down and set the table. Seungmin, dear, you’re staying for dinner, right?”
Jeongin turned to him with big eyes and asked, “You will, right?”
Honestly, Seungmin had been wanting to catch the live broadcast of Magical Mitsuki and the Gems , but he figures he could just ask his older sister to record the episode for him.
“Yeah,” Seungmin replies, ruffling Jeongin’s hair.
“I’m staying.”
2.
“Seungmin, stay with me. Hold onto my hand.”
“Jeongin, I’m twenty-one. I think I can manage.”
But Seungmin interlocks his fingers with Jeongin’s anyway.
The Sigma Kappa Zeta frat house is packed with a myriad of students from all walks of campus; most of them jostling each other and drinking and screeching senseless obscenities. There’s smoke, and no one can tell if it’s from the fog machines or the partygoers blatantly ignoring the ‘No smoking/vaping indoors’ sign Changbin had painstakingly plastered all over the walls of the Common Room. The beat of the music thundered in Seungmin’s ears, and the bass vibrated right through his soul. The strobe lights pulsated and blinded him. Seungmin squeezed Jeongin’s hand. Jeongin held on tighter.
“Just a little more,” Jeongin yelled, barely heard over the trashy party music.
After a few more moments of them enduring being body slammed on all sides by rowdy college students, they made their way to the kitchen pantry. The music still bled in, but it was more muffled and tolerable. There were a few people hanging out by the counters, chatting. One couple was making out by the refrigerator.
“Hey! Move! There’s a couch right over there, for fuck’s sake!” Jeongin barked.
The couple broke apart, but they both rolled their eyes at Jeongin. They stomped away; clearly too impatient to get laid to give Jeongin any more trouble. Jeongin sighed and opened the refrigerator. He grinned at Seungmin and asked, “Orange juice or apple?”
“Apple!”
“Classy.”
He reached in and brought out two juice boxes. Seungmin held his hand out to grab his box, but Jeongin plucked off the straw, unwrapped it, and stuck the straw in before taking a huge sip from it.
Seungmin punched his arm. “Douchebag, get orange like you always do!”
Jeongin cackled. “What if I want apple this time, dweeb? What about my feelings?!”
“You’re so fucking dumb.”
“Am I still dumb if I give you… this?”
Jeongin reaches inside the refrigerator again and pulls out–
“WHAT THE FUCK , SPARKLING JYP ORGANIC FRESHLY PROCESSED APPLE JUICE?!”
“100% Authentic and–”
In unison:
“HARVESTED FRESH FROM THE FIELDS OF CALIFORNIA!”
(From the side, Changbin whispers furtively to Felix, “No, it’s really not.”
Jeongin gives him the middle finger from behind Seungmin’s back.)
Seungmin grabs the bottle that is way too bougie just for pure, fresh, sparkling apple juice. He beams at Jeongin. “Thanks, bro.”
“No big deal,” Jeongin shrugs.
Seungmin leans closer and kisses Jeongin on the cheek. Jeongin’s face crumples, red rapidly spreading on his cheeks down to his exposed chest (because he wore a white, loose, knitted tank top and dark jeans that hugged his ass and thighs in all the right places; not that the entire campus was checking him out or anything). Jeongin mutters, “It’s… whatever, dweeb.”
(“What the fuck is that,” the girl of the couple, who had stopped making out just to watch the whole fuckery that was Yang Jeongin in a relationship unfold, hisses.
“Dude is whipped!” the boy hollers.)
Seungmin grabs Jeongin’s hand this time, and he says, “Let’s drink this by the pool!”
Jeongin only smiles and lets himself be dragged away.
As the two of them step out of the kitchen, the partygoers left stare after them.
One guy pipes up, “So that’s why he left halfway through my blowjob.”
The others shrug and nod in agreement. “Can’t believe I got railed for his character development,” one girl muses.
Changbin comments, “That dumbass has been in love with Kim Seungmin since he was like, twelve. He was just too chicken so he fucked the pining out.”
“Damn,” the others react.
“Fuck this shit, pass the vodka.”
3.
It was senior year of high school.
Seungmin should not be there, but seriously, who still confesses on the rooftop–
“I really like you! Will you go out with me?”
Seungmin exhales as quietly as he can. He had snuck up to the rooftop to study and pore over the stacks of worn, notated, highlighted reviewers he had practically swallowed his dignity for from asking the snooty, judgmental teaching assistants in his after school study group. He didn’t want to study in front of Jeongin who was surely bored out of his mind right now, inhaling the four-course meal his mother always packed for him in their usual spot on the bleachers by the school’s field. He didn’t want to study in front of Jeongin who had nonchalantly announced he had already been offered a full ride scholarship (in motherfucking Mechanical Engineering, of all majors) to the nation’s top university. Seungmin didn’t want to because he didn’t want to show how anxious he felt at the thought of not going to the same university as his best friend. He didnt’t want to show how much of a dumb loser he felt next to Jeongin. He didn’t want to show that he was chasing after Jeongin because he didn’t want him to go off to that stupid nerd university without him, meeting people who were probably way cooler and more interesting than him–
“What do you know about me?” a very familiar voice rings out.
“Holy shit,” Seungmin exclaims under his breath.
Seungmin can’t help it. He peeks.
Jeongin is wearing an expression that Seungmin has never seen before. His face is blank of all emotion, and he’s standing with his hands in his pockets; head tilted, staring daggers at their poor batchmate (Kim Hyerim?) who lowers the pink heart-stickered letter and clutches it close to her chest.
She’s cute, Seungmin observes idly. They were classmates, and she was nice to everyone, even willingly striking up a chat with Seungmin sometimes when they would bump into each other or end up in the same afterschool duties. Seungmin may have even had a crush on her, once upon a time; until he realized that she was probably talking to him out of pity. The crush disappeared before it even started.
But wait, what the hell was Jeongin asking?
“Um, what do you mean…?” Hyerim stutters.
Jeongin elaborates. “What do you know about me? What made you like me?”
Seungmin rolls his eyes. Is Jeongin serious? A cute girl is already serving her heart on a platter and he was fishing for compliments? Seungmin wanted to rush out there, shake his friend to his senses, and yell, “Dude, just say yes!”
But he didn’t. Because he wasn’t supposed to be there and that was Jeongin’s decision to make. So. He stays in his hiding place and anticipates Hyerim’s answer.
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. Even from his position, Seungmin can see how flushed she is. She clears her throat and begins, “I started liking you last year when you taught me how to solve the physics equations. I started to be more conscious of you then. I admire how intelligent and humble you are–”
(Seungmin barely holds back a snort.)
“--and how you excel at everything you do. I-I watched all your swimming matches, and I went to your Robotics exhibit too! And you’re on your way to Seoul National University, and you could’ve even gone to a foreign university and I just–I think you’re really smart and down-to-earth and helpful!”
Seungmin knows this confession is doomed.
Jeongin sighs. Seungmin watches as he takes a step farther from the girl and he replies, “I appreciate that you see me that way, but I can’t accept your feelings.”
Seungmin can see Hyerim’s face fall, and her shaky open mouth, ready to ask for a chance. And Seungmin’s ready to cause a diversion just to save her from the humiliation until Jeongin drops a bomb.
“Because I have feelings for someone else.”
Seungmin gasps, “What the fuck–!”
And apparently, he said that a little too loud because he barely manages to duck for cover when the two of them whip their heads in his direction. They don’t see him, thank fuck.
Also, there are more pertinent matters at hand. Hyerim asks, voice indicating that she’s near the point of tears, “Wh-who is it? Can’t I at least try?”
Seungmin is absolutely devastated for Hyerim when Jeongin answers, with full confidence and no hesitation, “You don’t stand a chance.”
Seungmin holds his breath. He hears a sob, retreating footsteps, and the door swinging closed. He doesn’t move an inch.
Jeongin heaves a huge sigh. “Where the hell is Seungmin?”
And he leaves soon after, shutting the door after him.
Seungmin peeks around the corner just to make sure the coast is clear. He lets out the breath he’s been holding when he sees that he’s truly alone now.
“So much for studying,” Seungmin mutters.
The question plagues his mind: Who does Jeongin like?
Who is this… mystery girl? Boy? That Jeongin so confidently declared he had feelings for and implied that no one could compare to? Or maybe he just said that to get Hyerim off his back? But.
Seungmin knows Jeongin. He would never lie, not even to get rid of someone. And the way he said it; with conviction. The way he recited a solution to a puzzle or a complex math equation. The surety with which he delivered it; as if he was making a case-by-case argument on why Seasons 1-3 of Spongebob Squarepants was the Golden Era of Comedy Cartoons in Television.
Jeongin was telling the truth, and he meant it.
That no one stood a chance.
Seungmin looks up at the sky. “Who is it?”
He wants to know, and he wants to know how serious it must be, if Jeongin’s keeping it to himself. Because that was his best friend; he’d be at the brink of death before admitting to a personal attachment to anyone that wasn’t family.
Seungmin clutches the reviewers in his hand, and he stares at it.
He plops down on the floor, takes out his notebooks, and begins to study.
(“Have you seen Seungmin?” Jeongin asks every classmate that passes by.
It’s so boring when Seungmin’s not by his side.)
They graduate. Seungmin cries himself silly when he receives the acceptance letter, and he forgets about the mystery person. He’s too damn happy, too damn relieved.
(Jeongin hides his acceptance letter to what had been Seungmin’s back-up university. He would’ve gone anywhere, would’ve followed Seungmin wherever he decided he would go. And maybe that was irresponsible of him, but if he was such a fucking genius like everyone told him he was, then it shouldn’t matter where he would go. He could do anything as long as Seungmin was with him.)
4.
Everybody wants to fuck Yang Jeongin.
His frat brothers had hooted and hollered at him, asking how he got someone as uptight as Oh Arin to be a notch in his bedpost. Jeongin had just smirked, all sly bravado, sipping the jungle juice from the red cup and retorting, “Bro, you have to be born with a dick like mine.”
And they had roared at the crudeness of it, laughing and slapping his back, exchanging bro-fives, and catcalling.
For all the ruckus, Jeongin would not stop glancing at his phone every five seconds.
Sunwoo, one of the senior brothers, yells, “Yo, if you wanna get laid, just get the hell out of here, bro!”
Eric, Sunwoo’s equally as annoying partner-in-crime, quips, “Is duty calling?!”
The guys erupt in another round of obnoxious laughter and hooting.
Jeongin ignores them as he rushes to unlock his phone the moment he sees the notification.
Dweeb Seungmin
> i don’t feel so good
“I gotta go,” Jeongin barely informs them. He puts down the cup, grabs his jacket off the back of the couch, and stands up.
More catcalls, some needling him to stay, dude! Just a couple more shots!
Jeongin waves them off, and he’s out of the frat house; running in the direction of Seungmin’s dorm.
Soon enough, he’s right in front of Seungmin’s door, and he’s slotting in the spare key entrusted to him, and rushing inside–
“Hyung! This is why I told you not to go drinking without me–!”
“Jeongin! What, did you run–?”
Jeongin whips his head around to see Seungmin, looking perfectly fine, lounging on the couch. He registers the way-too-pink and sparkly anime playing on the television. Seungmin is–
His brain short circuits.
Seungmin is wearing Jeongin’s white graphic shirt. The one that fit perfectly fine on him, but was clearly loose on Seungmin’s slimmer frame. The neckline was wide, putting the smooth, moled expanse of Seungmin’s neck and collar bones on full display. And Seungmin was wearing the Spongebob shorts; the one Jeongin had given to him as a (half-genuine) gag gift way back in high school. It would’ve been funny, had it not been for the fact that Seungmin had grown taller since then so the shorts were, well, short , ending at the upper mid of his thigh and stretched out around the meat of Seungmin’s thighs.
And lastly, the bane of Jeongin’s existence–
“Are those white knee-high socks?” he croaks.
Seungmin glances down, and looks back up at his best friend who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Uh. Yeah. It was cold, y’know.”
“Cool.” Jeongin supplies, stupidly.
It’s quiet for a few moments.
Seungmin breaks it. “I didn’t expect you’d actually come running… I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”
Jeongin nods mutely.
Seungmin sighs, and he rubs his eyes. A nervous habit. Jeongin resolves to get his shit together. He walks over and plops himself on the other end of Seungmin’s couch. “What’s up,” he asks.
Seungmin sighs, again, deeper. “I went home earlier because I wasn’t really feeling it. They were all super nice, but… I just felt tired. Not that I wasn’t having fun. I was! But, yeah. You know.”
His best friend fiddles with his fingers. Jeongin huffs and places Seungmin’s feet on his lap. To make him feel at ease. Not to, like, ogle his legs or anything. Absolutely not. (Jeongin sneaks a once-over on his best friend’s knee high clad legs. Yep. Not hot. At all.)
Jeongin assures him, “That’s okay. It can get tiring, being around a lot of people all at once.”
Seungmin groans and he falls back on his end of the couch, head resting on the pillow. Jeongin tries not to stare at the way his neck is bared, unmarked skin on full display–
“I wish I was as adaptable as you. You’re younger than me, but it’s like middle school and high school never happened to you.”
Jokingly, Seungmin kicks Jeongin’s thigh. He teases, “How’d you go from huge dork to huge douchebag in one night?”
Jeongin is losing his shit. But he shifts, rolls his eyes, and bites back, “You’ve always been the bigger dweeb between the two of us. That’s why I sat with you back then, remember?”
Seungmin kicks him again, harder. Jeongin bites his tongue so he won’t moan out loud.
Oh god, is this his karma for calling Oh Arin a notch in his bedpost?
“Go fuck yourself, Innie.” Seungmin’s voice is dripping with condescension.
The two of them stare at the images on the screen. It’s comfortable and familiar, and they both fall into the ease that comes with years of friendship. The same scenario throughout the years, just in different places, different positions. Always together.
Jeongin feels himself dozing off when he hears Seungmin ask, “You gonna sleep over?”
He looks just as sleepy as Jeongin feels. And so, so fluffy. His face was a little swollen, and he was lying down and craning his neck to meet Jeongin’s eyes, forming a double chin that should have been unflattering but instead looked like the most adorable sight to Jeongin. Because it is adorable. Seungmin is adorable. Always, all the time. He almost tells Seungmin what’s he’s thinking but his brain is awake enough to catch him. He answers the question, “Yeah. Do you mind?”
“I do. Because you eat breakfast like a fucking pig–”
And if Jeongin takes that as his cue to pinch Seungmin’s thigh with all the force he can muster, it’s because it’s good old bro-to-bro roughhousing.
Not, you know. An excuse to feel Seungmin’s thigh, the fat of it giving way beneath his fingers.
Seungmin kicks him in retaliation, and Jeongin’s cackling.
“Sleep on the floor, see if I fucking care.”
“No, you won’t~ You wouldn’t do that to me, right?”
Seungmin scoffs. “I’d sell your soul to Satan for a corn chip. Now fuck off, I have to brush my teeth.”
To Jeongin’s disappointment, Seungmin swings his sock-clad feet off of Jeongin’s lap. He throws the pillow at Jeongin’s head before he turns his back and pads off towards the bathroom.
Jeongin is a weak, weak man who shamelessly checks his best friend’s ass out as he walks away.
“Fuck,” Jeongin hisses.
Everybody wants to fuck Yang Jeongin.
But Jeongin wants only one person. Just one.
And that person isn’t even trying.
5.
“What do you like about me?” Seungmin whispers.
It’s early in the morning, and they’re both barely awake.
Seungmin would never have asked if his mind was truly awake. It’s the time when dreams blur into reality, and you’re not quite sure if you’re conscious or if you’re in the remnants of a fading dream.
Jeongin replies, “Too many to count.”
And it wakes Seungmin up.
Because he knows Jeongin, and he says it with the same certainty, with more conviction, still no hesitation. It reminds him of senior year. Of a confession he shouldn’t have heard. He remembers–
“Oh,” Seungmin exhales.
Jeongin smiles at him, and it’s not a dream, but it feels like it is. Jeongin’s eyes are clear when he tells him, “The reasons are countless. There’s no math to it.”
Seungmin somehow always knew. But in that moment, he admits,
He’s been in love all this time too.