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It’s not that Jaehyuk is a liar exactly, but he does lie; frequently, at that.
Over coffee, when Yoshi asks, Jaehyuk waves off his bruised lip with an easy I was drunk last night, I couldn’t tell you who I kissed, before he takes a sip from a mug filled to the brim with coffee that Jihoon made.
You remembered the sugar this time, Jaehyuk then muses to Jihoon, before taking another sip and dumping the rest into the sink when he thinks that Jihoon isn’t looking.
When Jihoon slides another mug of coffee over to Jaehyuk to replace his first, Jaehyuk accepts the mug without looking at Jihoon, before smiling too bright and shrugging away any teasing from Mashiho over a hickey that’s high above his collar.
(Jihoon remembers kissing the bruise right into Jaehyuk’s skin the night before.
Even after they’d stumbled home—not quite sober, but enough to make it all the way to their apartment without any hiccups—Jihoon remembers settling into Jaehyuk’s bed. He remembers leaning back against the headboard and patting his thigh and shifting as Jaehyuk pulled him closer, knees bracketing Jihoon’s hips, face buried into the crook of Jihoon’s throat and hands fisted into Jihoon's hair—
Of course Jihoon remembers, but it seems that Jaehyuk doesn’t care to.)
Sometimes, it’s just easier to let Jaehyuk lie his way through their evenings.
Jihoon holds his tongue—if only to see Jaehyuk relax and smile more, or laugh, or lean heavily against Jihoon’s shoulder as he gossips, voice fitted with volume and confidence and feigned enthusiasm; to hear Jaehyuk speak so fondly of things and people Jihoon has never met and who Jihoon will never meet.
So Jihoon hoists himself up on the counter—twisting his wrist up a bit funny as he does so, but the twinge is easy enough to ignore—and settles in to listen to Jaehyuk go on about a party that Jihoon knows Jaehyuk never actually attended.
Jihoon might be a little in love with Jaehyuk, but he won’t ever tell Jaehyuk that.
Only, he lets it slip one night when they’re trading a dented can of beer outside on the roof of their building, with cold air rushing into Jihoon’s chest and making him wince a bit each time he moves.
Jaehyuk doesn’t seem to notice, because his hands aren’t far from the hemline of Jihoon’s shirt, warm and calloused where he’s holding onto it.
Jaehyuk’s lips are moving fast enough that Jihoon can’t parse out his words through the rush of wind, but Jaehyuk only continues to mumble something almost incoherent, words slipping past them every once in a while and getting jumbled up into one another. There’s sweat glistening on Jaehyuk’s forehead and his cheeks are flushed pink as his knees knock together to keep balance.
Jihoon tries his best to follow along, but his concentration is fleeting and his head swims, alcohol making the edges of his vision blur.
The world feels a bit less clear than it should, and it's why Jihoon’s mouth decides to run itself hoarse with the truth.
“I think I like you,” Jihoon says, finally managing to choke out some version of the truth.
He swallows roughly around the lump in his throat, watching as Jaehyuk blinks at him slowly, a slight crease between his brows—Jaehyuk's eyes are bright even in the half-light of dusk.
Then Jaehyuk smiles. His lips curve upwards into a small, pleased sort-of grin.
“I kind of figured,” Jaehyuk says, kind of cruelly, except it’s not so cruel because Jihoon knows that Jaehyuk can’t help himself.
When Jaehyuk smiles, his dimples poke into his cheeks, turning his features soft.
There’s silence for a moment as Jihoon processes what Jaehyuk’s actually said, and then Jihoon takes another moment to laugh, even though nothing is funny in the slightest. The sound catches in his chest, and he has to cough a few times before he manages to get it back down again.
But then Jaehyuk starts laughing along with him, and it’s somehow worse that there’s nothing malicious behind it.
When Jaehyuk laughs, the flush of his neck turns even darker, his knuckles vice-gripping Jihoon's sleeve—and Jihoon wants to kiss Jaehyuk, but he’s afraid of what might happen if he does; so, with an awkward cough, Jihoon takes Jaehyuk by the arm instead, tugging him away from the ledge of the roof before Jaehyuk can drink anymore and risk further ruining his already stained shirt.
Jaehyuk’s laugh doesn’t stop bubbling all the way back down to their apartment—coming out all warm and light, floating down their hallway.