Chapter Text
For all their teasing and bickering, at the end of the day Jeongin is someone who Seungmin can spend time with comfortably, without feeling exhausted or drained.
They can sit in comfortable silence in the back of the vans, close enough that their thighs almost touch, their shoulders almost brush, but not quite there. They can gaze out opposite windows and watch the scenery drag by. Maybe Jeongin will occasionally knock his knee against Seungmin’s to win his attention, to point out some funny little quirk of their surroundings: a cute dog, a couple arguing, a horde of school children gathered around a claw machine on the street.
Seungmin does it, too, but depending on how exhausted he is he’s just as likely to let it go by without pointing it out, even if his first thought is always, Jeongin might like this. Jeongin might think this is funny. Even if all he gets is a short snort of amusement or a perfunctory, Oh, yeah, hyung, he feels like he’s done well.
Seungmin knows this as a critical, crucial fact of his and Jeongin’s relationship. It’s a basis, a foundation, what’s left after everything else is whittled away, once all the bells and whistles and outside influences have been done away with.
But it’s not meant to be today because of one particularly salient truth: Jeongin looks really fucking cute tucked up in the back of the van. He has his knees drawn up, squished into the seat in front of him. His head is plunked against the glass window, and Seungmin can’t tell if he’s actually asleep or only trying to be.
He looks peaceful, and Seungmin is in the mood to disturb that peace. It’s just… satisfying to have Jeongin direct anything towards him, even if it’s annoyance. It’s like… having a little brother. Isn’t that what older brothers do, anyway? Annoy their younger siblings for the sheer satisfaction of winning a reaction?
So, even if the rest of the van is empty and it’s just them, even though there’s an entire other row of seats Seungmin could stretch across, he crawls to the back and slides in right beside Jeongin.
Jeongin cracks an eye open and shifts, readjusts so he’s not touching Seungmin, even if it means being smooshed against the cold glass of the window. “Go ‘way,” he mumbles, shutting his eyes again.
“That’s not very nice,” Seungmin chides, and punishes him by laying his full body weight against him. “I didn’t see you all day.”
It’s not exactly true—they have seen each other all day. But it has been in the presence of most of the other members, or staff, or any number of other people, so Seungmin realizes now that it really feels true. He hasn’t seen Jeongin all day, not just them, and it… he feels…
He missed Jeongin, and the fact that his silly, annoying statement actually rings true kind of strikes him straight in the chest.
It immobilizes him for long enough for Jeongin to scoff and continue his fruitless wiggle away from Seungmin. “You saw me all day, hyung.”
He recovers enough to make a teasing comment back, shoving these thoughts aside for one fleeting, precious moment. “Aish,” he protests, though he obediently scooches a little bit away from Jeongin. “You just looked so cute asleep, I couldn’t help myself.”
“God, you’re annoying,” he snipes, and makes a half-hearted shove towards Seungmin. Even though there’s not much force behind it, Seungmin allows it to shove him across the back row of seats as the van finally pulls out of the parking garage. He… just needs a moment to process what the fuck kind of revelation he just had.
He forces his eyes away from Jeongin, curled back up in the corner of the van to catch some sleep as they head back to their dorm.
And here are the facts as best Seungmin can decipher them:
- He was with Jeongin almost all day long, albeit in the presence of countless other people.
- He feels very strongly that he’d missed Jeongin, despite fact #1.
- He had realized fact #2 as he was suffering from an intense bout of cute aggression towards Jeongin, because he really did look precious, all sleepy and ruffled.
If he were a character in a drama, this would lead him to conclude that he was in love with Jeongin or something. But that’s simply ridiculous—their relationship isn’t one of love. It’s… teasing, bickering.
Jeongin is like his real little brother; they know how to push each other’s buttons and, even if he thinks that Jeongin is cute sometimes, that shouldn’t overshadow how much he teases Seungmin. Every other day he’s calling him ugly or telling him his breath stinks despite his inflexible dental hygiene routine. He steals his food and takes sips of his coffee without asking and if he steals one more hoodie out of his closet Seungmin is going to lose it.
Oh, fuck—he’s in love with Jeongin.
Not because of these things, certainly not (even if the last time Jeongin had stolen his hoodie it had kind of made his heart thump against his ribcage). No, he loves Jeongin despite all the fucking shit he puts up with, which is so frustrating. Jeongin gets a free pass because his eyes are sparkly and his laugh is infectious and his smile is so breathtaking that it makes Seungmin’s knees weak?
Ah, life’s unfair.
Jeongin is arguably the member he’s closest with out of everyone; he’s certainly the member he spends the most time with. They’re both vocalists, they’re around the same age, and their personalities mesh well. Seungmin might have a claim to being the member who knows him the best.
But despite that, Jeongin is pretty guarded or—maybe reserved is a better word. Guarded implies that he has something to hide, and he’s never given any indication of that, either.
And what he’s also never given any indication of is his sexuality. He’s a blank slate, in that regard. There hasn’t even been a moment of “Oh, wow, that actress is really pretty” or “I think I like tough guys like that.”
Still, Seungmin is forced to lean towards heterosexuality, even though he can already hear Chan’s preachy lecture about heteronormativity and the damage that assuming sexuality either direction can do. After all, he tends to buck all of their affection more often than not, whether there are cameras around or not. The one time Jeongin had fallen asleep on Seungmin’s shoulder he’d treated him like a sleeping cat, glowering at any member who came near lest they wake him up and he would move away.
And, anyway, even if he did like men, who’s to say he’d like Seungmin? He’s gangly and awkward and has a mouth full of braces, still. Jeongin is younger than him and had already gotten his removed, just a few months ago now. If he were going to pick anyone from their group (and who’s to say he would, when there’s an entire world of people to choose from?), it probably wouldn’t be Seungmin. He dotes on Felix a lot. He and Hyunjin get along well. Minho seems to baby him a lot.
It’s not Seungmin; it would never be Seungmin.
He comes to this realization quietly, watching the world blur before his eyes as he gazes out the window. It doesn’t crush him, or anything. He isn’t flung to the deepest pit of despair. He’s not going to go home and wallow, to cry into his pillow or punch the wall or eat the spiciest noodles in their cupboard just to feel something. He’ll be okay, he thinks—this is temporary.
And isn’t it natural? Jeongin’s the youngest, so of course he feels some sort of weird protective fondness for him. Maybe it’s not love! No, definitely not. This is the first time he’s recognized or acknowledged any of these feelings; it’s only natural that he makes them out to be more than they are.
As it stands now, he can bear it. Annoying or not, he likes the relationship he has with Jeongin now, and confessing the feelings he doesn’t even understand will only mess it up. And, he has Chan’s annoyingly fatherly voice in his head: “If there are any problems in the group, work it out among yourselves, or feel free to come to me to mediate!” During that awkward, long talk, he had heavily implied that this included crushes or other messy feelings, not that it has stopped Felix from ogling Changbin at every chance he gets.
They’re rookies, still, and they have to be careful about these kinds of things. Still, Seungmin thinks that it’s not so dire that he needs to go to Chan about it. How fucking awkward would that be? No, whatever fluttery feelings he has about their youngest will recede into the background. He’s young, and he can’t really pretend like he’s well-versed in the world of romance. It’s something that still makes him feel wildly uncertain, even scared.
He forces down the stupid little voice that says Maybe figuring it out with Jeongin wouldn’t be so bad.
No, honestly, he’ll probably go home and crash on the couch with Felix and Jisung and join whatever movie they’re watching. Jeongin will go collapse on his bed to sleep and dodge Changbin’s attempts to coo at him. And he’ll forget about it, just like that.
After all, he’d apparently fallen in love with Jeongin easily, and without even realizing. Falling out of love is probably more or less the same thing, right?
They’re due to go on stage about any minute now and Jeongin is nowhere to be found. This fact has been overlooked by most of the other members and staff. The staff is busy, naturally, and so are the members—last-minute vocal runs (that are a bit show-offy, Jisung) or last-minute pushups (that are a bit show-offy, Chan).
That’s fine; Seungmin is responsible. He can go find Jeongin on his own. He’s not in their dressing room, but there are only so many places he could have gone.
He slips out into the hallway, bowing politely towards senior idols as he slips towards the bathroom. It’s the most likely place for him to be; probably he doesn’t know how close they are to having to be on stage.
So he slips into the men’s room. It’s empty; none of the locks on the stalls show them as being occupied and the area by the sinks is abandoned. Nonetheless, he tries a weak, “Jeonginnie?” and is met with silence.
Huh. Well, there are still other places he could be. Milling about, probably. Maybe he went to take a walk and lost track of time. It’s not really Jeongin, but stranger things have happened.
He heads down the hallway, trying to look nonchalant and like he’s not searching for a missing group member. He’s more or less ignored; everyone here is busy, running around and trying to fix outfits and last-minute perfect choreo.
He rounds a corner, wondering if he should just report back and tell their manager he can’t find Jeongin at all, when he smacks straight into him. Like, literally, their foreheads conk together and Seungmin almost ends up on the floor and everyone pauses their busy, busy work to stare at them.
“Come on,” Seungmin mutters, grabbing Jeongin by the arm and dragging him down the hallways towards their dressing room. He doesn’t want all these people staring at him while he has stars bursting across his vision and the beginnings of a headache. “Where were you, Jeong—Hey.”
He cuts himself off as he glances over his shoulder to address Jeongin. His eyes are shiny and puffy, his bottom lip jutted out and quivering.
Fuck it, the dressing room can wait a second. What are they going to do, go on without two of their vocalists?
He tugs Jeongin around a corner that, while not entirely secluded, is at least private. And no one pays them any mind, anyway, flurrying around the two of them. Seungmin gathers each of Jeongin’s hands in his own.
He hasn’t done this for a while, sure. He’s been trying to give Jeongin space for both of their sakes—Jeongin doesn’t seem to like casual touch and Seungmin fears he’ll make the undeniable feelings he has for Jeongin worse.
But even before, when he had tried to put an arm around Jeongin’s shoulder or snuggle against his shoulder, Jeongin had pulled away. But not now—he allows his hands to stay in Seungmin’s, although he’s gazing resolutely at the floor, not daring to look up.
“What’s wrong, In?” he asks, stepping closer because this might be a conversation that shouldn’t be overheard.
He sniffles and rubs his sleeve under his nose. His lips are chapped and bitten to hell. “It’s nothing, hyung,” he says, though he still doesn’t meet his eye.
Seungmin has the cliché thought of tilting Jeongin’s face up to his with his fingers under his chin, and immediately chastises himself. He’s watched too many romance movies with Hyunjin and Felix, probably, and that would be so fucking unhelpful in a situation like this. Jeongin would feel strange, weird, uncomfortable. His sorrow is not a stepping stone for any romantic feelings on Seungmin’s part.
“It’s clearly not,” he says, squeezing his hands.
Jeongin shakes his head, taking a deep, grounding breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he says, resolutely. He sounds remarkably less pitiful than he had, and he finally drags his eyes up to meet Seungmin’s. They’re red and bloodshot but also fiery with determination, like he’s going to do whatever it takes to get over whatever had had him down.
He’s… grown up, Seungmin realizes. Maybe the old Jeongin would have cried and felt bad for himself, relying on one of the hyungs to boost his mood. But no, this Jeongin can self-regulate. He can cry and feel bad for himself, but at the end of it all, he can pick himself up, dust himself off, and make a plan to address all his negative feelings.
He’s grown up, and Seungmin has scarcely even realized. He doesn’t feel much like he’s grown up himself, maybe. Has he outgrown Seungmin? Outpaced him?
He’s stuck there, staring into Jeongin’s eyes in a busy hallway. Jeongin’s staring him right back down, but then backs down, clears his throat.
“We’re about to go on, huh?” he asks. “That’s why you were wandering around, right? Looking for me?”
“Y-yeah,” Seungmin says, blinking and trying to return to normal. It’s hard, when he doesn’t think he’s been capable of normalcy around Jeongin since that stupid revelation. It hadn’t faded or gone away like he’d hoped, so instead he just… pretends.
“Then let’s go,” he says, pulling his hands out of Seungmin’s, already turning to go back to their dressing room. He glances over his shoulder where Seungmin is frozen, stock still, and adds, “I’ll be fine, okay?”
Seungmin follows, but he can’t help but think that Jeongin has given away his lie too easily. It had been it’s fine, I’m fine before—so why is it now I will be fine?
On reflection, it’s more or less the attitude Seungmin has adopted vis-à-vis his messy feelings for Jeongin. It’s not fine now, but one day it probably will be, and it’s what Seungmin grasps onto fully, the one day of it all.
It’s not normal and can’t be normal when Minho barges into the entrance of their dorm, calls, “Beefcake dorm! Five minutes!” and promptly stomps back out. The bag he’d been holding clinks suspiciously, and he hadn’t even taken his shoes off. Merely popped his head in and yelled at them to move their asses.
Seungmin is on the couch with Felix and they glance at each other, confused. Jeongin had been rooting through the fridge, searching for a snack, and had bonked his head on a shelf in fright when Minho had come out of nowhere.
“What if we don’t go?” Seungmin asks, because it’s surely going to be an event, and he’s already showered and done his skincare and everything.
“Minho hyung will drag you there kicking and screaming whether you want to go or not, it sounds like,” Felix says, stretching as he gets off the couch. “Hope he bought tequila.”
Jeongin shuffles over to the living room, scowling and rubbing at the back of his sore head. “How’s your head?” Seungmin asks in sympathy, and Felix barely restrains laughter.
When Seungmin and Jeongin turn to him, confused, he just grins wildly. “Sorry, you two are too innocent for such jokes, I forgot,” he says, and pats Seungmin on the head like a dog. As he scampers back to his room, he presses his lips to Jeongin’s head, right where his ouchie is. “Gimme three minutes!” he requests, before they hear his door slam shut.
Jeongin shrugs. “It’ll be fine, hyung. Once Minho gets drunk enough, we can slip out.”
There’s a little thrill that runs through him at the sound of we. He and Jeongin, as a unit, an us. It’s exhilarating.
“Yeah,” Seungmin agrees. “Yeah, perfect.”
He’s not going to drink a lot, if at all. He’d gotten a bit too starry-eyed the last time he’d drunk with Jeongin present and came too close to making a fool of himself. He’d admired him in the way he usually pushes deep, deep down. He’d watched him laugh and goof off with Jisung and Hyunjin, watched him grimace at Chan and Felix’s jokes. He watched him shamelessly for once, enough that Changbin had noticed and said, in his unfortunately loud voice, “Yah! You got a crush or something?”
To be fair, Changbin had been trying to get his attention, but Seungmin had stammered back a half-baked defense and everyone had been drunk enough to just let it go. When he’d fallen onto their couch at the end of the night with Changbin as a babysitter, he’d patted Seungmin on the head gently and said, “I’m sorry, Seungmo. Didn’t mean to embarrass you earlier.”
“You didn’t,” Seungmin lied, like a liar. “You just talk too loud.”
Because Seungmin couldn’t be embarrassed about it if it wasn’t true. He doesn’t have a crush on Jeongin, so why would he be embarrassed by Changbin yelling that he did?
All the same, it had been a sobering experience, and he’s not keen to give himself away, his disgusting obsession with Jeongin.
Felix skids back out into the common area and they all tramp up, bare-faced and in hoodies and sweatpants. They open the door to the so-called Beefcake Dorm (nobody calls it that except Minho and occasionally Jisung) and kick their shoes off as they hear two familiar voices, arguing.
Chan and Minho are in one corner. It sounds like Chan thinks that this is all a bit much out of the blue and Minho thinks they should have fun; he uses the term team bonding more than once. Felix immediately rushes over to help, and once he and Minho tag-team Chan with puppy dog eyes, it’s over.
These kinds of get-togethers, usually organized by Minho but occasionally by Jisung or Felix or a combination as well, are not infrequent. It is kind of like team bonding, Seungmin guesses, and these things usually end in raucous laughter or teary confessions. At one of their first of such events, Minho had snuck Jisung down to their dorm and Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin had all huddled in Seungmin’s room for comfort, playing games to drown out the noise.
Now, Minho produces a large bottle of liquor from a nondescript brown paper bag and calls for everyone to gather around the kitchen table. “Everyone’s doing a shot!” he announces, slamming a hand down. His eyes meander cautiously over to Chan. “For the purposes of team bonding.”
“You’re on thin ice, Min,” Chan says cautiously, but doesn’t further attempt to ruin their fun.
Nobody among them likes doing shots, so Seungmin doesn’t know why Minho always insists. He’s a sadist, or something, enjoying everybody’s strong reactions to the liquor.
Seungmin doesn’t give him the satisfaction this time, downing it and immediately turning away to grimace in private, to fight back a retch. “Wasn’t that bad,” comes Jeongin’s voice behind him, looking down at his empty shot glass in wonder. When Seungmin turns, he shoots him a toothy grin. “Maybe I’m growing up, huh?”
“Into an alcoholic?” Seungmin asks dryly—but he’s pretty sure he’s done. He’s drunk as much as he’s going to tonight—his mind is a minefield, and if the liquor loosens him up too much, it could be disastrous.
Jeongin didn’t get the fucking memo, apparently, or his feelings for Seungmin are so nondescript and normal that he has nothing to lose by getting absolutely plastered.
Seungmin, for once, runs interference. He forces people to drink water, pries drinks from hands when they’re a bit too gone. When Hyunjin drops onto the couch, exhausted, he obediently makes sure he’s not laying on his back, like an idiot (he had been, and yes, Seungmin is going to take credit for saving his life after flopping him onto his side).
Seungmin is humoring Changbin, who insists he can bench press their coffee table with Seungmin atop it, when Jeongin sidles over, obviously drunk but no longer having a good time. “Hyung,” he says, and there’s a small sniffle.
“What?” respond both Changbin and Seungmin, but Seungmin is pleased to see that Jeongin’s gaze is fixed only on him.
But then Jeongin clams up, wobbling on the spot and clutching a beer bottle tightly in both hands. “Hey,” Seungmin says, rolling off of the coffee table and going to him. “Maybe you should stop, okay?” When he tugs at the bottle, Jeongin releases it easily, looking up at Seungmin in mild bewilderment. “What, In?” he asks.
“Nothing!” he insists forcefully, scowling. “I just—god, I’m drunk.”
“Let’s get you back to our dorm, then,” Seungmin says. He wraps an arm around Jeongin and promptly performs an Irish goodbye—everyone is too drunk, really, to notice, anyway. Jisung and Minho have Chan cornered on one side of the room, probably tormenting him. Hyunjin is still asleep on the couch, and Changbin is trying to convince Felix to get on the coffee table to bench-press.
It’s quiet in the hall, and a little chilly. Jeongin’s face is flushed, though Seungmin is sure it’s from the alcohol, not the cold.
“Sorry,” Jeongin mumbles, grabbing tightly at Seungmin’s arm. “‘m just…”
“Let’s just get you in bed, Innie,” Seungmin suggests, ushering him for the elevator.
“And brush my teeth,” he adds, his head drooping—it droops straight towards Seungmin’s shoulder, skimming it.
Seungmin gets clumsy Jeongin back into their dorm without incident. He’s clinging really hard onto Seungmin, which makes it hard, but it’s simplified by the fact that he’s already in pajamas, skincare done—all Seungmin has to do is tuck him into bed.
“My mouth tastes bad,” Jeongin pouts, and Seungmin obediently steers him for the bathroom. He has to hand him his toothbrush, his toothpaste, and then Jeongin’s eyes evidently struggle to focus on the instruments in front of him. Seungmin should have kept a better eye on him—he’s drunk way too much.
“Here,” Seungmin says softly, snatching the toothbrush and toothpaste from him and putting an appropriate amount onto his toothbrush.
Jeongin sways, still trying to focus on the toothbrush. Then, ultimately, he lets his mouth fall open with an, “Ahhhhh.”
“I’m not brushing your teeth for you, brat,” Seungmin bucks immediately, actually backing away.
“Mahh tahhh bahhh,” Jeongin responds without actually shutting his mouth. Mouth tastes bad, Seungmin deciphers.
He heaves a sigh. This is his fault, somehow, letting Jeongin drink this much. “Fine,” Seungmin relents, and he gently grips Jeongin’s jaw with his left hand, using the toothbrush with the right.
It’s strange, brushing someone else’s teeth. It’s intimate and quiet—Seungmin is trying to focus on the task at hand. Not too rough, or Jeongin might choke. There’s a line of toothpaste foam at his lower lip that threatens to dribble down his chin, but even in his drunken state, he manages to keep it under control.
He scrubs his tongue (gently), then steps to the side and instructs, “Spit.” Jeongin does, bending over the sink, and when he stands back up, Seungmin asks, “Better?”
“Nee wadder,” he tries, his mouth still full of toothpaste foam.
Seungmin sighs, and reaches under the sink for their supply of plastic cups. He obediently fills it, lets Jeongin swish, and spit into the sink. “Thanks, hyung,” he mumbles, his eyelids closing. “You take good care of me.”
It sends another surge of feelings through him. Jeongin in this vulnerable state, Seungmin literally brushing his teeth for him because he’s too drunk to do it on his own.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Seungmin says softly, warily, and ushers Jeongin across the hall. His room is dark but mostly neat—some clothes and accessories scattered here and there, a few half-empty water bottles, but it’s not the worst of their rooms by a long shot.
He hadn’t made his bed, and seems content to just nestle down into his rumpled covers. “Hyung—” Jeongin starts, but Seungmin cuts him off, rolls him to his side.
“Sleep on your side,” he insists. “I won’t be responsible for you drowning in your own puke.”
“Hyung—”
“Yeah, I’ll get you a glass of water, geez,” Seungmin says, already getting up to go to the kitchen. “Painkillers, too, for the morning.”
“Hyung,” Jeongin reiterates, disobediently rolling to his back to blink up at Seungmin. “Thank you. Sorry I got all—drunk.”
“It’s fine, Innie,” Seungmin says dismissively. “It happens.”
“You took good care of me.”
That annoying heart thump again, and Seungmin tries to play it cool. “Any of the hyungs would have done it for you, Innie,” he insists in a mutter. “We’d hardly leave you to pass out in the bathroom.”
“But you took care of me,” Jeongin reiterates. “So thank you.”
“It isn’t something I need to be thanked for, In,” Seungmin insists again.
“You make me so angry,” Jeongin mumbles, letting his eyes close. “You’re really fucking annoying.”
Seungmin bites back the No, you—he’s been trying really hard to not annoy Jeongin. To keep him from rolling his eyes and huffing and whining. The other members can do that, but he doesn’t want Jeongin to associate him with a pest. He just wants—he wants Jeongin. Even like this, hopelessly drunk in bed and pouting like a child. He wants him, so deeply it aches.
So he softens, pats Jeongin’s hair indulgently, and apologizes. “Sorry about that, Innie,” he says, and at last gets up to fetch a glass of water and a couple of painkillers.
When he returns, it seems Jeongin has fallen asleep, his breathing easy across his pillow. He leaves the water, the pills, and allows himself one more indulgent stroke of Jeongin’s head. He looks soft like this, peaceful, and Seungmin has to actually tear himself away, force himself to go to his own bed.
He wants Jeongin so deeply it’s almost irrational.