Chapter Text
"I try to hide this feeling that I can't control
I get carried away by this feeling that I can't control
With you being so irresistibly charming
I should have looked away, yet I'm mesmerized again"
When Changbin finishes the song, he shows it to Chan.
When he finally gets done and over with the lyrics that had been haunting him for years, he makes a topline, records a guide, and puts it all over a track that had been gathering dust on his computer. Then he waits for a day in which it’s just the two of them, and he shows it to Chan.
Chan sits cross legged on the couch at the studio and doesn’t move until he has listened to it at least three times.
And afterwards, as Chan praises him, tells him that he did a wonderful job, that they can adjust the track and the melody and even submit it to be released along with their next album, Changbin can’t help but sigh in relief. Chan doesn’t know.
He shouldn’t have underestimated Chan’s worry, however. That very night, as he lays in bed scrolling through his phone, Chan enters their shared bedroom, closes the door and sits right beside Changbin’s legs on the bottom bunk.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He caresses Changbin’s knee with one of his hands and looks into his eyes with a kind, careful expression. “I won’t pry, you don’t have to tell me who it is, but you can tell me if you’re hurting.”
Changbin takes a deep breath, sitting up. “It’s complicated.”
“I gathered, from the song and all.” Chan chuckles lightly. “Is she in the industry? Is that why it’s hard?”
Before he corrects him, Changbin already knows what Chan is doing. He has a feeling that he knows. Knows why it’s complicated, knows what type of person the song is for. Knows why it’s “forbidden”. And he’s just prompting Changbin to correct him, giving him an easy way out.
“He.” is all he says.
Chan doesn’t ask any more questions, and doesn't try to get answers out of him. He just lays down beside Changbin on the narrow bed and hugs him to his chest. They fall asleep like that.
He doesn’t show the song to Jisung until after it’s approved.
The company’s producers suggest a few changes, most of them are just small tweakings on the topline and the track. But a few are revisions to his lyrics.
They tell him to soften it up a bit, to round out the corners. Tell him that it sounds too masculine, that it’s hard to imagine the kind of girl it’s supposed to be about. That he should make the recipient a little more feminine.
Chan is upset on his behalf, but at the end of the day there’s nothing they can do. This same type of criticism has been given to them quite a few times, but none of them can come clean to the company about their more… unorthodox songs. So Chan helps him, and they revise it as minimally as they possibly can.
Even then, he only shows Jisung the newly revised version of the guide, the one with both his and Chan’s vocals.
Jisung, bless his little heart, tears up after listening to it a second time.
“It’s beautiful.” Is all he says.
He remembers that day like it was yesterday. The day he felt it for the first time.
He was seventeen years old when Chan got him and Jisung together at a vocal practice room and, with stars in his eyes, told them that they were debuting.
Jisung teared up then, too.
They spent hours and hours going over the details and fantasizing about just what the future could possibly have in store for the three of them. And as Jisung was speaking, still excited despite the late hour, Changbin looked at him in a new light for the very first time.
He had always been in love with the fire in Jisung’s eyes, his unrelenting passion and his drive to become the best of the best. Over the course of the many months they had been working and training together Jisung had become not only a close friend, but also an integral part of who Changbin himself was becoming.
He felt that brotherly companionship with Chan as well, saw 3racha as three cogs in the machine of creation. A machine that could only work seamlessly when the three of them operated it side by side.
But at that moment, he looked at Jisung and thought he was beautiful.
He had always thought Jisung was cute, with his chubby cheeks and round eyes and heart shaped smile. But as he looked at him now, that feeling exploded from within his ribcage, leaving him winded, bruised and teary eyed. Like two heavy rain clouds colliding inside his chest, the resulting thunderous boom rattling his bones and spreading electricity beneath his skin.
He couldn’t explain what it was, back then. Could only think of holding Jisung close to his chest, hoping he could hear the song his heart seemed to be singing just for him.
He would only start to understand it after many suspicious searches, half a dozen ‘Am I Gay?’ quizzes and a few sleepless nights.
He could have brushed it off as confusion, teenage hormones, allergies, too much sugar or whatever else he could possibly think of, but if anything, all that those god awful quizzes accomplished was cementing in his head the idea of holding hands with Jisung, going on dates with Jisung, giving gifts to Jisung and making him smile, kissing Jisung and calling him his.
That realization horrified him.
He couldn’t look Jisung in the eye for a while, afraid he would see right through him, would realize just what kind of perverse thoughts inhabited Changbin’s mind.
He didn’t know what outcome was the worst. Jisung calling him disgusting and refusing to debut in the same group as him, or Jisung never looking in his direction again, refusing his tainted touch.
As the weeks passed and the three of them started rounding up a few of their friends, steadily building a little group for the survival show that could make or break them, Changbin saw that he was fine being physically affectionate to the other guys.
He felt normal as he hugged Jeongin or comforted Seungmin, but he simpy could not make himself do the same to Jisung.
If he held Jisung close, he felt as if his heart would whisper to him all of his dirty secrets. He would taint the beautiful friendship Jisung wanted out of him and force his horrific feelings upon him against his will.
Almost as if Jisung would come into his vicinity and be able to hear the rattling of Changbin’s bones as thunder boomed inside his ribcage, shooting lightning straight into his heart. As if the electricity would travel through his bloodstream and shock him from beneath his fingertips at the slightest of touches.
A few days after Felix joined their group, Chan cornered him in one of the practice rooms and expressed his worry, asking if he was okay, if there was anything wrong, if he was having second thoughts and a million other inquiries in a single breath.
“I think I like boys.” was all that tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought.
“Oh.” Chan stopped and took a deep breath. Changbin could feel his heart beating in his throat, his blood rushing in his ears. It was a matter of seconds until Chan laughed in his face, or kicked him out of their makeshift team, or pretended it was okay while secretly thinking he was disgusting or-
“Me too!”
What.
So that was that.
Even as Chan slowly made him realize that being bisexual wasn’t dreadful or perverse, he still avoided Jisung like the plague. Terrified of the possibility of him catching on and throwing their companionship to the ground.
But after so many years, Changbin grew tired of pretending.
Now, as he smiles at Jisung and cradles his face in his hands, watching as he blinks the moisture out of his eyes, he thinks that it’s time to change.
The thunderstorm never stopped raging, still filling his lungs with rainwater most of the time. But after so much time putting up with it, to Changbin, it was nothing more than a constant drizzle.
Just a couple of years ago he would never have touched Jisung in such a tender way, would never have subjected him to his own disobedient feelings against his will.
But Changbin realizes his feelings don’t exist in a vacuum, and no matter how afraid he was of Jisung seeing right through him and ruining their dynamic, Jisung was never able to read his mind, and he was affected by the distance Changbin put in between them.
He lets Jisung record his own parts of the guide and, afterwards, treats him to dinner and lets him rest his body against his chest on the couch at the dorm.
Jisung falls asleep like that, and Changbin allows himself to stare at his peaceful expression. He’s still just as beautiful as he was back then.
Back then, he thought a bit of distance from Jisung would make it all go away. He had plenty of crushes on girls that went away after a month or two after all. But he hadn’t considered the fact that he was debuting with Jisung, living and working with him by his side at all times.
He certainly hadn’t expected to watch as Jisung grew into himself wonderfully, or to fall deeper in love with the person he became. Hadn’t expected that the feeling he wanted to banish to the deepest recesses of his mind would only grow exponentially, until both him and Jisung were sopping wet and drowning in it.
He didn’t want to get rid of it anymore, even if it ruined him. What is he without his love for Jisung, after all?
Three years ago, Jisung had broken Changbin’s heart into a million sharp little pieces.
Jisung had sat in front of the camera and asked Changbin why exactly he never hugged him. He had been laughing, posing the question in a lighthearted tone, and even laughed after Changbin spewed out a random excuse.
But after filming, as they waited, Jisung sat next to him and whispered “I’m serious hyung , I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”
It felt like a shot to the heart
He had been selfish. Refusing to get too close to Jisung in fear of ruining their perfect dynamic, thinking the distance could fix everything and allow them to continue being close as brothers, and nothing more.
He was so focused on keeping his undesired feelings away from Jisung’s vicinity, that he didn’t notice the wall building itself in between them.
Jisung felt left out, neglected. Where had Changbin gone so wrong to the point where Jisung felt the need to apologize to him?
Changbin had been so absorbed in trying to keep all of his desires in check, that he didn’t notice the anguish he projected onto Jisung. Had he thought that Changbin found him undesirable? Lesser in comparison to the other guys? Undeserving of love and affection?
Jisung had complained, one time. Just before they started filming for the survival show, he had whispered to Chan and Changbin that he felt left out. Had told them that he was afraid they’d soon tire of his shortcomings and realize they preferred the shiny new members over him.
Chan had held him, then. Had comforted him and told him that he was loved, unique and irreplaceable; the cheat key of their little gang.
And throughout all that, Changbin hadn’t said anything. Had thought that if he so much as opened his mouth, Jisung would realize just what brand of irreplaceable he was in Changbin’s heart.
And in that moment he had realized that Jisung never knew what went on inside his head. All that he saw was Changbin spending time with the younger members, being affectionate to them and never to him. Probably wondering why he wasn’t good enough to receive the same treatment.
Changbin could not live in a world where Jisung thought he was lesser in his eyes.
The first thing he did after their album promotions were over was take Jisung to the cinema. It hurt to see genuine surprise in his round eyes as Changbin proposed the idea, as if he couldn’t imagine Changbin wanting to spend time with just him.
He couldn’t care less about whatever movie they watched, could only pay attention to the euphoric feeling he got from spending time with Jisung.
He made a point to do it all the time. Nothing could beat the warm feeling and the swarm of butterflies in his stomach he got when sharing precious little moments with him. Memories kept locked away only in his and Jisung’s hearts.
But even then, he couldn’t make himself hug him. Still too afraid his heart would give him away as soon as he held Jisung too close. Still afraid of the booming thunder in his chest and the electricity in his bloodstream, itching to make use of Jisung’s skin as the perfect conductive material. Still afraid of tainting their precious friendship with his feelings, of forcing them onto Jisung against his will.
Until two years later, when Jisung sat in front of a camera yet again and joked about it one more time.
He joked about it, but Changbin didn’t find it funny.
That night, at the dorm, Changbin waited until Jeongin was somewhere else and cornered Jisung in his room. Grabbed him by the waist and held him so tight he feared he would explode into a million pieces.
It felt like being electrocuted. Like the nitrogen dioxide running through his veins exploded into sparks of lightning, traveling through their embrace in invisible fractals of lichtenberg figures.
Jisung cried, and Changbin’s heart broke over and over again with every sob and shaky breath the younger boy took in his arms.
He only thinks about the song again when it’s already time to record the tracks for their upcoming album.
Nobody pays much attention to it at first, engrossed with perfecting their unit songs, practicing their parts combined with choreography for their title track and, in Chan’s case, editing existing songs to add the newly recorded vocals of a previously missing member.
The first person to go into the recording booth for Sorry, I Love You is Minho.
Changbin sits on the other side of the glass, directing the session, as is common for his most personal pieces. He’s tired and his voice is a little hoarse, courtesy of getting run to the ground by Jisung, who directed his recording session for Secret Secret not two hours ago.
Despite the grueling session, he understands Jisung’s need for perfection, knowing just how raw and personal that song is to him. He mentally apologizes to Minho in advance for possibly subjecting him to a similar fate, seeing as his song is just as personal to him as Secret Secret is to Jisung.
It’s the song his heart sings day in and day out just for Jisung to hear, after all.
As it turns out, he doesn’t need to push Minho too hard. His technique is flawless and his delivery is impeccable. Minho makes so many weird noises so often, that Changbin sometimes forgets just how beautiful of a vocal color he owns.
Minho is done so quickly, in fact, that they have a bit of time to spare before Seungmin is supposed to arrive to record his parts.
They have a couch in the studio, but Minho sits right in Changbin’s lap.
“I’m proud of you.” He says, uncharacteristically serious. “It must have been hard.”
“I’m tired of making it worse, hyung .” Changbin doesn’t look him in the eyes, fiddling with the string of Minho’s sweatpants. “I feel like I’ll die if I don't get it out.”
“You’re allowed to love, It’s not your fault. I’m sorry that I can’t make the pain stop.” At this, Minho holds Changbin close to his chest, resting his chin on top of his head. “So Whose teeth do I need to pull out and boil as punishment for breaking your heart, Changbin-ah?”
He doesn’t dignify Minho with a response, still busy laughing at the egregious threat when Seungmin comes into the studio with Starbucks, ready to belt out some sick notes.
Minho had been the second person he came out to. When he was still grappling with the realization, wishing he could bury it so deep in the recesses of his mind that he forgot it had ever even been there.
Back then, he really did think that he would have to keep it locked away forever. Afraid that he wasn’t allowed to ever breathe a word of it to any living being, forbidden from letting anyone so much as entertain the idea. Constantly beating himself up for confiding in Chan, despite his delight and undying support.
Even as Chan reassured him that he knew people from the industry, from their company, that were just like them, Changbin couldn’t bear the idea of putting himself out there and talking to these people. Feeling almost as if as soon as he realized, a target materialized itself on his forehead.
By the time the survival show was done airing, he had relaxed a little bit. Too preoccupied with the whole debuting debacle to truly keep both his newfound sexuality and his love for Jisung at the forefront of his mind.
When the time came for them to move into their permanent dorms, however, Changbin stumbled across a few of Minho’s belongings.
In Minho’s shared room, there was a backpack. It was light green, almost blue and looked old and well loved, different from the one he usually took to the company, with a few badges pinned to the fabric. The one that caught Changbin’s attention was a round and shiny badge, with the motif of a pride flag.
He only saw it once; Minho was quick to organize his side of the room and put it away. But ever since then, Changbin kept a curious eye on him, suddenly noticing the various assorted rainbow themed everyday items he seemed to own.
Just thinking of Minho waltzing around with these items that could give him away at any moment was enough to get Changbin’s heart in his throat. He had been worried about his most minuscule of mannerisms, afraid someone would clock him as soon as they looked at him. He couldn’t imagine walking around with items that practically advertised it to anyone who knew just a little bit about pride apparel.
Minho noticed his furtive glances. A few weeks before they were set to actually make their debut, he signaled for Changbin to follow him into his room.
“Is something wrong?” He asked innocently enough, but his face betrayed his confusion. He wasn’t asking if Changbin was okay, but rather if something was amiss in between them.
“ Hyung, are you … ” He decided to bite the bullet and get it over with. “Are you gay?”
Minho opened and closed his mouth, balling his hands into loose fists and clenching his jaw. In that moment Changbin saw himself in him; he looked afraid.
“Would that be a problem?” He knew what Minho was getting at, probably assuming this was a hostile confrontation.
“No! Of course not! It’s just… I noticed your things.” At this, Minho seemed to relax a little, crossing his arms in front of his body and taking a step towards Changbin.
“So you haven’t been staring holes into the back of my head because you think I’m a freak?” His tone was still sharp and guarded, but Changbin noticed that what was visible of his hands trembled the slightest bit
“I just don’t know how you do it.” He blurted out. Minho raised a single eyebrow, prompting him to elaborate. “walking around and showing it off.”
Minho took a sharp breath in. When he looked back up Changbin saw the tears gathered in his eyes, ready to fall. He had fucked up big time.
He was new to this kind of thing, assuming he would need to protect the secret with his life. No wonder his terrible job at vocalizing his thoughts on the matter would sound, to Minho, like he was implying he should be ashamed of being gay.
Minho sniffled, much to Changbin’s horror, blinking quickly to try and get rid of the tears before they fell.
“I feel like I would die if anyone ever found out.” He desperately said in a quick breath. “Like people will just look at me, know what I am and push me away.”
“Oh.” Was all that Minho breathed out in response.
“Every time I do anything I’m afraid that somehow, someone will notice. I can’t imagine being able to show it off.”
Minho grasped his arm and guided him until they were both sitting side by side on his bed. “I do it because I want people to know.”
“Why?” He asked immediately, completely flabbergasted. Minho chucked.
“It’s not something bad that needs to be kept as a dirty little secret.” He looked straight into Changbin’s eyes before continuing. “It’s something good and beautiful that you need to be proud of.”
“Aren’t you scared?” He whispered, avoiding Minho’s gaze.
“Only for my safety. Unfortunately I can’t exactly yell it out in the open, but it still feels good to not really keep it a secret.” He lightly touched Changbin’s knee as a reassurance. “If the wrong people ask, I can just deny.”
“So why did you tell me the truth? If you thought I was the type to… hurt you?” Minho only sighed, straightening out his back and getting Changbin to face him again.
It was serious to him.
“I wouldn’t be happy pretending to be someone I’m not. Not in a place that is supposed to feel like home.”
And Changbin took it to heart, internalizing it more seriously than any of Chan’s previous reassurances. Not to say they were ever shallow, but something about Minho struck a chord in him; the way he was about to cry while still standing strong to defend his right to be the most genuine version of himself.
Changbin had thought long and hard about only ever disclosing his attraction to women while keeping his other side enshrouded in secrecy, but while Chan was the same as him, something about knowing Minho didn’t have that option, that to him, pretending was much more than just omission, opened his eyes.
Maybe he didn’t want to pretend.
Jisung’s recording for Sorry, I Love You is, for all intents and purposes, done in a single take.
Changbin still stalls and makes him go over the verses a few times, all while knowing they will be making use of most of the vocals from the very first take.
To him, Jisung’s voice is perfect. Any line he sings, even the throwaway out of tune verses, can make Changbin’s heart soar.
He might not be aware, but this song is his. For him, about him and no one else. Could never be for anybody in this world if not him, for Han Jisung is the only person perfect enough to stoke the fire of his adoration; the singular puzzle piece that keeps Changbin’s spirit complete.
Any way he chooses to interpret the lines given to him will be better than anything Changbin could have ever thought to create. This is his song, and no one could do it better than him.
When he comes out of the recording booth, Changbin compliments him. All he gets in response is a sad little smile that, as always, takes his breath away.
When their album is released and Changbin goes over the song one more time, he notes that Jisung was able to embody his pain and anguish in a way that he doesn’t even think himself capable of. Singing the lines given to him in the exact rhythm of the heavy raindrops slamming against the inside of his ribcage.
After their comeback is all done and over with, Changbin feels as if most of the weight in his chest has finally lifted. Almost as if completing the song was the last milestone he needed to cross. He wouldn’t pretend anymore, wouldn’t hide.
He doesn’t confess to Jisung, however. After so many years, he now knows that Jisung would never scorn him, would never look down on him or judge him. Jisung is just like him, in fact. Just like him and Chan. And Minho. And even Felix.
But he’s still Changbin’s groupmate. And if there’s one thing he has learned in the industry, it’s that he needs to be absolutely insane to ever consider falling in love with a member of his own group. How are they supposed to represent the epitome of brotherhood if he wants one of his so-called brothers to kiss him passionately on the mouth? Maybe even marry him, move into a house in the countryside and adopt two dogs with him. Or something.
How would a relationship between group members translate into their on-camera personas? Or even worse: How would a rejection affect their group dynamic?
Changbin hasn’t ever even dated within the industry. He knows Jisung hasn’t either, not apart from the occasional friend with benefits. And even then, not like Minho and Felix, who collect pretty men like they’re Pokémon.
Regardless, he suspects Jisung knows.
After the song is released, he lets go of his constraints and indulges in his proximity to Jisung to the fullest. Holding him and spending time with him to his heart's content. Drenching him in the running waters of his adoration. And if anyone notices the change in his mannerisms, they don’t comment on it.
During the increasing time they spend together, Jisung keeps giving him this look. A little pout that morphs into a sad little smile, the same one from the day they finished recording for the song.
Changbin suspects Jisung figured it out. Suspects that, as he sang the lyrics that came so deep from Changbin’s entrails, he put the pieces together and figured out that they were meant for him. He suspects that the smile, so utterly melancholic, might be pity.
He has long known that if he confessed, and Jisung were to reject him, he would never be mean about it. Jisung would never treat Changbin with anything but respect. He suspects that the smile is Jisung’s form of understanding. Knowing Jisung, maybe even regret that he can’t reciprocate.
He doesn’t let himself feel bad about it, knowing that his fantasies were never possible. They could never come to fruition. Impossible. Forbidden. And so, he lets himself have Jisung in the only way he’s allowed.
He wakes up still half tangled in between the warm covers and another person’s limbs. He remembers falling asleep with Jisung curled around his side, his head laying on Changbin’s chest, but as he slowly blinks his eyes open, he realizes Jisung sat up against the headboard, and Changbin’s head is the one resting on top of his thighs instead.
It has become a habit. Ever since they moved into the new dorms, Jisung will get home late, shower and go into Changbin’s room instead of his own, curling up against him on the bed regardless of if Changbin is still awake or already asleep. Sometimes, Changbin won’t even notice him until he wakes up in the morning, their bodies pressed so close together they might as well fuse with one another.
The first few times, Jisung had awkwardly stood in Changbin’s doorway, whispering “ Hyung ” until Changbin noticed him, almost like a little kid announcing to their parents that they peed on their bed late at night. He whined and hid his face in Changbin’s chest out of embarrassment when he pointed it out.
It reminded him of their early debut days, when Jisung would fall sick and stand in the same way at the doorway of Changbin’s shared bedroom, waiting for Chan to notice and take care of him.
He grew out of that habit, but Changbin is sure that Chan would still get up in the middle of the night to care for Jisung, even if he’s a grown adult.
He stretches, lightly rubbing the side of his face against Jisung’s thigh. “G’mornin’”
“Good morning, hyung. ” He sounds a little choked up. Changbin sits up worriedly, noticing that indeed, Jisung looks upset. Almost as if he was fighting tears.
"Hey, What's wrong?” Jisung pouts at him, lowering his phone face down on his lap.
“Minho- hyung told me some things I needed to hear.” He whispers, looking down and playing with his hands.
“Why would you be upset if you wanted to hear it?”
“No, it’s- hyung- I didn’t want to hear it. But I guess he’s right.” He sighs, dropping his head back and hitting it on the headboard with a soft bang.
“I’m sorry Jisungie. Do you want to talk about it?” But Jisung only shakes his head, laying back down and closing his eyes.
Changbin lays back down farther away from him, assuming he needs his space, but Jisung scoots to where he’s pressed against the wall and clings to him, hiding his face on the crook of Changbin’s neck.
He wonders if what Minho had to say has anything to do with Jisung’s new… extracurricular activities.
Jisung is sneaky enough about it, for the most part. Changbin is not sure he would have noticed if not for outside influences.
Like Changbin, Jisung was never one to sleep around very often, having one or two “good friends” he would go to every once in a while. But ever since they moved into the new dorms, Jisung disappears at least three times a week, if not more, out with other boys at their dorms or hotel rooms.
Only Minho and Changbin seem to be aware of this sudden change in behavior. Weirdly enough, Changbin suspects Jeongin also knows, with the way he has always covered for Jisung without a fault, ever since they still shared a room.
Jeongin and Jisung have always been good at keeping secrets between just the two of them, probably whispered to each other in the darkness of the room they shared for so many years. Half of the few things Jisung deems too personal to tell Minho, he tells Jeongin.
(The other half is buried in the bowels of his hard drive, in songs that will never see the big screens of the studio or the light of day, but that Chan and Changbin see some glimpses of sometimes, after they’ve marinated in the dark for a while.)
Changbin only notices anything out of the ordinary about Jisung’s frequent “late nights at the studio” not because of Minho or Jeongin, or even because of Jisung himself but, hysterically, because of Ju Haknyeon.
It’s hilarious in a sort of hysterical way. Changbin gets a text message from Haknyeon, saying something about Jisung spending the night at their dorm. The wording is a little funny, but Changbin doesn’t question it. He knows Jisung is friends with Eric, and has been spending a lot of time talking to Sunwoo as of late. Mutual love for anime or whatever it is that he said.
But it doesn’t end there. He gets not one, but two other texts from industry friends, members of other groups, with that same odd wording. And it finally clicks for him.
He has to take a break for a good twenty five minutes. Even considers crying in the shower out of embarrassment at the realization that multiple of his idol friends have been texting him with what is basically code for “your dongsaeng is fucking my groupmate so often that i feel like it’s something I need to tell you.”
Changbin has never smoked a day in his life, but he feels like he needs a cigarette.
Jisung doesn’t even actually “spend the night” as they say, seeing as the times he “stays late at the studio” are the very nights where he comes back home, snuggles up to Changbin and sleeps as if he’s the epitome of innocence and not someone who just got his back blown out for the third time that week.
And Changbin isn’t made of steel. He is a very bisexual man who is very in love with his best friend. He already thinks Jisung is the hottest man to walk the earth, but knowing just what it is that he has been doing just a few hours before shedding most of his clothes and getting all close to Changbin in his bed, makes him want a cigarette for a whole other reason.
If he jerks off and cries in the shower about it, he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.
As soon as they start the first leg of their tour, Changbin is sure Jisung is forced to relax a little bit on the whole getting laid thing.
That is until Chan comes into his hotel room and he can’t stop himself from laughing in his face as he worriedly asks Changbin if he noticed Jisung sneaking off with their singular male makeup artist in Tokyo, or that one venue employee in Newark, or this random french guy from their hotel in Chicago.
He does get seriously worried about just what happened to Jisung’s libido that got him so desperate to the point where he’s willing to fraternize with the French, but he digresses.
Chan seems pretty worried, both for Jisung’s safety and for the possibility of getting caught, but Changbin has already gone through the five stages of grief about the whole debacle over the last few months, and reassures him that it’ll be fine. Jisung, although admittedly acting odd, is twenty one years old and knows what he's doing.
The whole French thing ends up being no more than just a rumor.
Changbin is inclined to believe the incredulous lilt to Jisung’s voice after the sixteenth time Seungmin whispers “ oui ” at him, and he feels the need to let the empty venue and all the staff know that he “has never been in the vicinity of a french person without all of his clothes on”.
It’s funny until it’s not. Hyunjin hasn’t mentioned croissants in at least two days when Jisung swipes their manager’s keycard on Changbin’s door instead of his own and climbs into his hotel bed with him.
“Dude, does your medication affect your libido?” Changbin asks, closing his browser with the third article Chan has sent him this week on the ‘correlation between anxiety medication and changes in libido’.
Changbin told him not to worry too much, and yet he keeps worriedly scouring the internet for those articles, even as they both know Jisung hasn’t had a change in prescription in well over a year.
“Huh?” Jisung stares at him, sitting up straighter on the bed. “No, I don’t think it does.”
“So that’s not why you’re going around sleeping with everything that moves?” He regrets his crude wording as soon as he says it, seeing as Jisung’s entire face, and what is visible of his chest get so red, so fast, that it seems like he’ll explode.
“ Oh my god. ” He doesn’t explode, but it’s a near thing. He grabs one of Changbin’s pillows and buries his face into it. Changbin can’t help but laugh until his sides hurt.
“Chan- hyung is super worried about you. He thinks your meds are fucking you up or something.” Jisung groans in response, lowering the pillow from his still very red face and shoving it in Changbin’s chest when he starts silently laughing again.
“I swear to god, I already told you I didn’t sleep with french people. Felix hallucinated the whole thing.”
Changbin believes him, he really does, but he also can’t stop himself from gasping for air from how hard he’s laughing. Jisung groans, still embarrassed, and scoots closer to hide his face on Changbin’s shoulder.
A few minutes are spent in silence after they both calm down.
“But seriously. Is something wrong?” It’s not unlike Jisung to find weird coping mechanisms to deal with issues he is too afraid to ask for help with.
Changbin thinks he won’t talk, but Jisung sighs and removes his face from the crook of his neck, looking at his face for a split second and promptly averting his gaze yet again.
“I needed to take my mind off of something.” He says, uncharacteristically morose. “It’s not serious or anything, just annoying. I swear I’m okay.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He grabs Jisung’s hand and interlocks their fingers. “I wouldn’t even tell anyone if you admitted that you slept with the french guy. Did you touch his baguette?”
“You’re horrible.” Jisung lets go of his hand, slapping his shoulder halfheartedly.
“I tried making a song, but for that I had to keep thinking about it, and all I wanted was to hide and pretend it never happened.” He sighs again, suddenly embodying his own exhaustion. “Maybe it’s time to make a song about it and flush it out of my system.”
“I think that might be a healthier option, yeah.” Changbin adjusts their position so that Jisung is leaning against his side on the bed. “Do you want to tell hyung what’s bothering you?”
Jisung shakes his head, unwilling to open up. Changbin can’t help but bitterly wonder if Jisung would tell Minho or Jeongin about whatever it is that he’s so unwilling to tell him.
“I like the sex because it makes me feel desired, I guess.”
Changbin can’t open his mouth or else he fears he might end up disclosing just how much Jisung is desired right now, at this very moment. Just how much Changbin wishes he was the one Jisung would sneak around with. The one to touch him and brand his love onto his body.
For the next few weeks, he keeps a closer eye on Jisung. True to his word, he stops giving Chan gray hairs and starts working on lyrics.
It’s then that Changbin realizes something that makes him wish the ground would open up beneath his feet and swallow him whole.
The way Jisung looks at Minho.
As it turns out, he and Jisung might have more in common than he originally thought.
Jisung and Minho clicked together perfectly from day one. From holding hands for emotional support to regarding each other as soulmates, the fans speculate about their relationship to hell and back. And yet they would always laugh it off whenever another conspiracy thread made its rounds on twitter or yet another analysis video made its way to their recommended page.
No one in the group thinks too hard about the thousands of crazy analysis videos, save from Hyunjin, who will occasionally fall down a rabbit hole and surprise an unfortunate member with a “what are we” text at four in the morning.
But all in all, Jisung and Minho had always been the epitome of brotherhood and nothing more. Surely they were not insane enough to land themselves in the same unfortunate situation as the one Changbin found himself falling face first into.
But now, as he watches the stars in Jisung’s eyes as he whispers something in Minho’s ear, Changbin is not so sure anymore.
He watches as Jisung ramps up the intensity of their jokes about him and Minho and wonders if he finally figured out what had been wrong with Jisung ever since their second to last comeback.
Minho has never been shy about his sexuality, flirting around and giving a call to most cute male idols who get ahold of his number. Maybe Jisung was sleeping around to try and replicate that, trying his hardest to forget his own feelings, he had said he wanted to “hide and pretend it never happened” after all.
Had he wanted to feel desired by all of those guys because Minho, the one he wanted it from, couldn’t give it to him?
His breath hitches when Jisung leaves his lyrics notebook open at the studio while leaving for a bathroom break. He doesn’t mean to peek, but can’t help his curiosity when just the slight turn of his head makes it possible for him to read half of a verse.
The lyrics are perfect, as always. Jisung is a genius lyricist and manages to pry his heart open into the paper, his raw and unfiltered love bleeding into the lines.
Changbin hopes he doesn’t betray the storm behind his eyes when Jisung comes back and he immediately gets up, ruffling his hair and proclaiming that he needs a break. He slips into a dance practice room and closes the door.
Love at a temperature that can melt when touched. The perfect love song for Minho.
He can’t fight the tears. The wind picks up speed in his chest cavity and the rainwater finally floods over. Bitterly thinking that, while all he wants is for them to be happy, if Minho and Jisung persevere against the odds and try something out despite everything, Changbin doesn’t know what will become of him. If the constant rain will rot the foundations of his skeleton and crumble into a puddle of bitter love and regret.
The door opens and the last person he wants to see makes his way to Changbin’s curled up form against the couch.
“Why, why? What’s wrong?” Minho says in his gentlest voice, crouching down in front of him and cupping his wet cheeks in his small palms.
“I’m so- sorry hyung. ” Minho’s eyebrows scrunch in concern, sitting properly on the ground and guiding Changbin’s body against his chest. Firmly wrapping his arms around his shaking shoulders and gently caressing the back of his head.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Despite everything crashing down inside his head, Changbin loves Minho with everything he has, and he lets himself hide his face against his hyung ’s chest and cry until his throat hurts and he physically can’t produce tears anymore. “ Hyung ’s got you. Let it all out.”
There is no relief, all that remains is regret.