Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The fucker was meticulous.

Jongho grudgingly came to the unwanted conclusion while stifling a yawn. He wasn't feeling particularly generous towards this mystery person, but he had to give them that.

They'd covered their tracks well.

Thumbing through the pages once more, as if something new would pop out, something he'd missed the first ten thousand times he'd poured over it, Jongho swallowed his scream of frustration.

He was no closer to finding the culprit than he had been when he'd first started. Even his phone mocked his efforts, glowing 3:45AM, highlighting the hours he'd invested in his manhunt. That didn't even cover the days he'd wasted thinking about it.

Nine days.

Nine days had passed since Jongho found the cursed notebook. Nine days since he'd had any good sleep. Nine days since paranoia took over his waking moments, pricking and prodding him so his every action was stilted and unnatural.

Dramatic? Maybe. An overreaction? Only to those whose hearts were made of stone. Healthy? Probably not. Was he going to let it go? Never. Because why the hell did they hate him?!

He needed to find out who this person was. No, he was going to find out who this person was!

/|_|\

Nine days ago...

Jongho forced himself not to splay on the floor. Every iota of concentration was firing to hold himself together. If he relaxed a single muscle in his body, he knew he was only a second away from crying.

The gruelling practice had done a number on him. The new dance was deceptively simple while being demanding on the knees. His old injury warned him through unsubtle stabs of pain that he'd stumble if he walked on it.

Not wanting to worry anyone, he pretended to review the dance video on his phone. Aiming for causal, he stated to no one in particular that he was going to practice a bit more.

Sure, he didn't like lying, but he'd been fawned over enough during his recovery, he wasn't willing to go back to that. He couldn't take it anymore.

Only Yunho threw a wrench in Jongho's plan to break apart in solitude. Being the kind and responsible dance leader he was, he offered to stay behind and help. Woodenly, Jongho declined, searching to find a plausible reason why that wasn't necessary. Guilt, pain and a healthy amount of panic made him say just about anything to dissuade his tall band mate.

It was a testament to their physical fatigue that no one called him out on the gibberish he spewed. Yunho might have given him a strange look and Hongjoong might have advised him to not push himself too hard, but they let it go without further comment. And one by one he watched his members leave.

When the pain had lessened to something bearable and he was sure there was no audience to see him fall if it didn't pan out, Jongho decided to attempt to stand. He'd just taken a deep breath and psyched himself up when he noticed the purple in his peripheral vision.

His brain, snagging on his favourite color being near, subconsciously turned his head and there, under the chair in the corner, was the purple notebook.

Curiosity, the devil, Jongho suspects both, pulled him to pick it up.

A pocket notebook. It was compact, about the size of his iphone, and would have been unassuming if not for the bold color. When Jongho opened it, discreet printed letters stated: Ateez Cat Log. The next couple pages had a mini profile for each member, only it was not their usual profiles he was used to seeing.

Hongjoong:

Nickname: Captain Fluffball
Breed: Russian blue
Age: 3 years
Background: Rescue, cautious of physical touch from both humans and cats
Current status: A real softie; still hisses at overt affection, though this seems more performative than anything

Seonghwa:

Nickname: 2IC (when being serious) / Star Quality (for any other time; Star for short)
Breed: Turkish Angora
Age: 3 years
Background: Rehomed, as previous owners moved overseas, is a little anxious because of this
Current status: Flourishing, maybe a little too much?? Though confidence does look good on him

Yunho:

Nickname: Golden Boy
Breed: Norwegian forest
Age: 2 years
Background: Unconfirmed, followed owner home; seems to think he's a dog
Current status: The most golden retriever who has ever lived <3

Yeosang:

Nickname: Angel Cake (Ace for short)
Breed: Bombay
Age: 2 years
Background: Rehomed, seems quiet and reserved, but adjusting well
Current status: Part silly, part daydreamer, 100% angel
unintentional troublemaker, but all is forgiven — look at his face! He didn't mean to!

San:

Nickname: Musclehead (previously, before beefing up: Sweet Bean)
Breed: Bengal
Age: 2 years
Background: Unconfirmed, followed Yunho home; hates to be called Sweet Bean despite being a sweet bean; is the most cat-est cat ever
Current status: Cat

Mingi:

Nickname: Princess
Breed: Ragdoll
Age: 2 years
Background: Rescue, wary of strangers, however likes and sticks to Yunho
Current status: A giant cinnamon roll; still sticks to Yunho every chance he gets

Wooyoung:

Nickname: Gremlin
Breed: Siamese
Age: 2 years
Background: Rehomed, previous owner was the same as Yeosang's, cat wouldn't settle without his friend; please note: he is a biter
Current status: He is still a biter, warning stands

Jongho:

Nickname: Youngest on top (Yotty for short)
Breed: Maine coon
Age: 20 months
Background: Rehomed, potential bad start in formative stages, as is very standoffish/prickly towards affection despite wanting it (coping mechanism??)
Current status: He tries to act like a grizzly bear, is a teddy bear; but don't be fooled by his smile, he is mischief incarnate

Any pain from his old injury or squeamishness over the morality of going through someone else's belongings flew out the window.

Jongho was gobsmacked. Like what the hell was this? Why specifically cats? Ateez already had animal alternatives in the Aniteez, wouldn't it have been easier to stick with those animal representatives?

He didn't get it.

Was it a joke? Was he being pranked? Was Mingi going to come bounding into the room like we got you? Because if so, it was a creative, if an un-funny, joke.

So many questions Jongho had, but no answers and when no one jumped out with a ha-ha to explain away the thing, Jongho kept reading. He kept reading and reading, his confusion morphing into more confusion, until it landed on hurt.

Dated entries of their daily lives, rewritten as if they were cats, filled the pages. But that wasn't what really caught Jongho's attention. What caught and held his attention was the little boxes on the top right corner of each entry that held a grade corresponding to the member the entry was about.

One entry of 'Captain Fluffball' read:

Captain Fluff was busy sorting his toys again, he forgot to play with the other cats.
The other cats seemed to miss him :( .
He did, however, end up giving the others each a toy he thought they'd enjoy. He seemed content to watch them play.

Jongho recognised it as an allusion to Hongjoong's workaholic tendencies.

In the right corner, there was an 'A' in the box.

Another entry for 'Ace' read:

Ace is never allowed to leave home again. At least, not alone.
He followed a stranger home because they offered soft toys?? There's toys at home!
The stranger danger lecture went in one ear and out the other. He'll do it again, I just know it!!

This was clearly about Yeosang following that lady he'd just met to her house to meet her pets.

In the right corner, there was a 'B' in the box.

Similar entries of all members, some of them cute, some of them disparaging, but the grades remained relatively the same. They were either an 'A' or 'B', the lowest was a 'C' awarded to 'Gremlin' for hissing at strangers.

Except for Jongho's.

Every single entry that was about him / Yotty, whether good or bad, was awarded a 'F'.

Every.

Single.

One.

Did the owner of the journal not like him?

That night Jongho couldn't sleep. The 'F' sat heavy on his mind, burning him with the knowledge that one of his members — people he considered family, who he'd thought felt the same — didn't actually like him.

So the next day, Jongho did something he hated doing. He milked his injury.

Willingly risking getting scolded for overdoing it or being subjected to their excessive fawning, which really meant one and the same for some of his members, Jongho messaged their manager that his knee had flared up and he wasn't going to be able to make that day's dance practice or the vocal lessons he'd booked.

He'd waited until Wooyoung and Hongjoong had left before sending his message out, so they wouldn't be notified until they got to the company. He didn't want to answer questions about whether he was okay and if he needed anything. Especially when one of them could be the author of the cat logs.

He didn't know who to trust anymore.

Last night while reading through the logs again, Jongho had deduced the notebook did not belong to one of the managers or another KQ staff member, because some of the stories in the book only the members knew. It belonged to one of them. To the people he trusted most.

Staring at the bin under his desk, Jongho contemplated throwing it away. He should just bin the damn thing and be done with it! Who cares what this person thought? If they didn't like him, he couldn't force them.

But this was about his hyungs.

Over the seven years they'd known each other, they'd shared laughter, tears, sleepless nights, they'd even shared underwear.

Sure, there'd been some disagreements, it was bound to happen with eight distinct personalities. But Jongho had always thought it had made them closer. That they'd learned to navigate each other's boundaries better because of it and had come to a deeper understanding of one another.

The notebook ripped that belief in two.

And had the nerve to come in his favourite color, as an insult on top of the injury!

Jongho hated it.

He hated himself more for being affected.

He wanted to hate the person, who'd written it, for making him feel this way. But it was hard when he loved his members too much. He couldn't imagine himself hating one of them, whoever it was, even in the hypothetical sense.

Tired and heartbroken, Jongho flopped back onto his bed and passed the time listlessly, thinking about who it could have been, what he could have done to them and when it had started or if this person had just been faking it this whole time and had hated him from the start.

Maybe they just put up with him because it was for work. Which, in the grand scheme of things, was nice. They were co-workers at the end of the day. No one wanted a workplace that was rife with personal drama.

But why go to the trouble of fostering a close relationship? Why not just be civil and honest? Why had they made him love them when they obviously couldn't stand him?

The chime of his phone disturbed his swirling thoughts. Jongho picked it up and found text messages from Seonghwa.

The letters swam together, as tears welled in Jongho’s eyes. The idea that Seonghwa might be faking his concern made him sick to his stomach.

Flashing through his mind, he remembered silent comfort, vocal affirmations and shared meals with his members. The possibility it had only been special to him, that one person had hid their dislike of him all this time, had actually hid it so well that Jongho was doubting everyone and all his interactions with his band mates, Jongho couldn't handle it.

Jongho saw Hongjoong's fond smile, accepting his bursque ways; saw San's hand reaching for him, because they all knew Jongho secretly craved their attention no matter how much he said otherwise. He saw Seonghwa's eyes flicker from kind to mischievous as the eldest grabbed him for a kiss he never followed through on, because as much as the older man liked to see his reaction to skinship, he’d never willingly cross the line of what Jongho was comfortable with. And Jongho saw Wooyoung's teasing grin, heard his laugh ring in his ears as they fell over each other because of something stupid.

Many other moments stabbed Jongho, as he clutched his phone in his hands. Yunho doing something strange and random and looking his way to see if he'd caught it, the eye contact always making Jongho laugh, even as he affectionately questioned what was wrong with his tallest hyung. And the safety of Yeosang's presence that quietened his racing thoughts, the many times he'd sought out the pretty man for his calm. And he saw Mingi groaning as he saw Jongho coming with a jug of beer while simultaneously pushing his glass towards the younger, accepting his fate, settling in for the same conversations they'd had many nights before, that one could only do with someone they'd known for so long and so well.

Brushing the tears aside, Jongho chastened himself for taking this so hard. If the notebook had belonged to anyone else, Jongho would have accepted it as incompatibility between him and this other person and let it go. But this wasn’t just anyone else.

How was he meant to accept this? How was he meant to accept any of his hyungs hating him when they'd all been really good to him?

You are difficult to get along with.

The venomous thought pierced Jongho. He was the one in the group who found it the hardest to show affection, to be vulnerable, often deflecting with a joke or faux disgust. Sometimes ignoring it completely when one of his hyungs said or did something he needed time to process alone.

Thinking about that, Jongho thought maybe he'd brought this on himself. Maybe he was the problem and needed to be the one who had to fix it.

It wasn’t the first time Jongho had wondered about his place within his members’ lives. About whether they genuinely cared for him or if it was just for show, for work.

And it wasn’t the first time he’d considered that he didn’t make it any easier for them to accept him on a personal level. His shyness and fear of rejection always meant they had to be the ones to bridge the gap.

It must be exhausting being the one to reach out, even just thinking about it exhausted Jongho.

When he’d thought like that in the past, he'd generally been able to talk himself out of it. He’d tell himself he was overthinking. But this notebook was confirming all his fears.

He was the problem.

And he had to be the solution.

The resolve settling in the spaces of his ribcage, holding the ache in place so he wasn't overtaken with it, Jongho determined that he was going to change, so he'd have no reason to be disliked.

Because he wasn't ready to lose any one of his hyungs.

/|_|\

Jongho's first action after coming to his decision was to study the notebook. He needed to know his opponent's likes and dislikes if he was to win them over.

Sitting at the desk, he rummaged around for an old notepad with free space and a working pen to record any clues.

The first read had been through an emotional lense, because he'd been hurt. All he'd seen was the failure in his friendships, but now with the resolve to fix whatever was wrong, Jongho was able to look past the loud 'F's' and read what was actually on the page.

He re-read his profile; the background info was most likely in reference to the hard time Jongho had had at his previous company and how it'd affected his behavior when he'd first entered KQ. But that wasn't what he zeroed in on, it was the current status:

He tries to act like a grizzly bear, is a teddy bear; but don't be fooled by his smile, he is mischief incarnate

No one talked about someone they hated like that. So, at some point, the owner of the notebook had liked him. Their relationship had begun genuinely; knowing that eased a bit of Jongho's worries. But it still meant, some time after the profiles had been written the notebook owner's feelings had changed.

The second thing Jongho noted was that the notebook owner had taken the time to type out each entry, print it, cut it out and glue it into the pages, so Jongho was unable to identify them by handwriting.

And the third, the notebook only contained incidents that all of the members should be aware of, so Jongho couldn't identify them based on the fact that only so and so should know this. Any solo observations were just that — observations of the members' character, not specific incidents that Jongho could use to narrow the suspect down.

Leaning back in his chair, Jongho rubbed at his tired eyes. He could tell that this person cared about his personal relationships. The care they'd taken to put together their lives within the pages, it was a labour of love. And the insights they revealed blithely were both heartrending and beautiful in their simple honesty, the owner of the notebook knew them, saw them, loved them.

Well, they loved everyone besides Jongho.

No, Jongho, now's not the time to get dejected, he scolded himself.

And as if the universe agreed with him, a knock sounded and Jongho found the bag containing his porridge sitting outside their dorm door.

Grabbing a spoon from the kitchen, Jongho took his food back to his room and tucked into the hearty meal, feeling it warm him and give him the strength and comfort he'd needed.

It'll all turn out alright, it seemed to promise him. Feeling his eyes start to droop now his stomach was full, Jongho reasoned that a nap was not a bad idea. He had barely made it to his bed when the lack of sleep caught up to him. This time when his eyes closed, his failings didn't swim behind them, only the warm feeling of being cared for lingered in his mind.

/|_|\

"It must be bad if he mentioned it to the managers. So why didn't he tell one of us?"

"Shhh, you're going to wake him!"

Jongho slid deeper under his covers, the 'it's kinda too late for that' hiding alongside him.

His roommates, Hongjoong and Wooyoung, had gotten home a few minutes earlier. The scuffling of them removing their shoes and dropping bags had woken Jongho. But when his door had creaked opened, he had feigned sleep. Whoever had opened it had closed it after checking on him and now he was listening to Hongjoong shush Wooyoung.

Jongho was ashamed. His earlier conviction to fix things had faltered as soon as the people he needed to face turned up. He was pathetic.

"He seemed to have eaten, that's a good thing."

"Seonghwa said he had something delivered through ubereats."

"Well, we have the jacket shoot tomorrow, I wonder if he'll be alright."

Their voices moved further away until Jongho couldn't hear them anymore. But even if they'd stayed, Jongho wouldn't have heard anything more. Blood was rushing and roaring in his ears. The jacket photoshoot. He'd forgotten about it. That was something he couldn't put off without disrupting their schedule and burdening everyone, his members, the staff.

He couldn't avoid it. He couldn't avoid them.

Another sleepless night claimed Jongho, so when he trudged down the stairs to the car the next morning, he didn't have to think about how to act when he saw any of his band mates. His sleep deprived brain could only focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Yunho, Wooyoung and Hongjoong, who rode the same car, must have understood that, as they left him alone.

Once there, Jongho found it was pretty easy to avoid the complicated feelings. He single mindedly focussed on work and with staff all around, it made any real conversations difficult. He could easily field questions about his health with a half hearted 'I'm feeling better now.' It was all going well, a little too well.

It happened during Seonghwa and San's unit shoot. Jongho was resting in the waiting area, he'd picked the chair furthest from the rest, his head in his phone, exaggerating his busyness to prevent being approached. He should have known that could only work for so long.

A shadow passed over him three times, unsure of its welcome, before it gathered its courage and settled over Jongho fully.

Debating whether to ignore them or not, Jongho wasn't given a choice.

"Jongho-yah," Hongjoong said in a slight sing-song. "Your photos seemed to have turned out well."

Jongho knew forced cheer when he heard it. He also knew hedging when he saw it.

Their captain was never one to stand straight, always in moving lines or curves, his body refusing to conform to stereotypical masculinity.

Hongjoong's extra flair was actually one of Jongho's favourite things about him. Jongho recognised it for the rebellion it was. It took a lot of strength to be yourself in a world that rewarded following the norm and punished those who dared to be different.

But right then, Hongjoong's moving lines didn't fill Jongho with the courage to be himself, instead it made Jongho want to cave into his chest until he imploded and ceased to exist. Because it wasn't the confident flair of a rebel in front of him, but rather a nervous electricity. One of Hongjoong's hands rubbed at his opposite arm in a self hug/soothe that didn't seem to be helping, based on his tight smile. The smaller man's body was also angled away from Jongho, as if he was ready to run at any moment.

Jongho hated being the reason for his band mate's nervous energy, but he was also doing his best. So forcing his own polite smile, he said a quick thanks and went back to his phone.

A few beats of silence passed before Hongjoong muttered a quiet, "Okay," and did an about face to leave.

Jongho was going to let him go, let the awkward air seep into their skin until it stained, but the words from the notebook he'd read over and over, to the point he feared he could recite it back to front, drifted through his mind's eye.

Captain Fluffball is the designated leader of the cat ring. They look to him for guidance and stability, but sometimes when they're not watching, Captain Fluff's paws shake with the responsibility. As if he struggles with their expectations and doubts he can live up to them. I give him head pats and tell him he's doing a great job, even the cats assure him of his capabilities in their own way, but I don't think he believes it.

The dejection in Hongjoong's retreating frame and the tremor in his hands that Jongho wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking for it, forced the younger man out of his seat. Latching onto the older man's arm, he pulled him to a stop. Wide eyes swung around to face him, and seeing him, they widened even further with confusion.

Jongho dropped Hongjoong’s arm like a hot potato, his face glowing red with embarrassment at his rash behavior. Why did he do that? Only he couldn’t take it back, he had to continue, there was no backing down now.

"Thanks."

Hongjoong frowned. "You already said that."

"No, thank you for checking on me. I—" The words felt unnatural and hard, but they clamoured against his teeth, wanting to get out, no matter how painful it was. "Actually I was having a really shit time, thinking I was causing everyone trouble, so I appreciate you coming... to talk to me, to make sure I was okay."

Hongjoong's eyes couldn't have gotten any bigger. The pregnant pause that ensued almost had Jongho snatching his words back, regretting his impulsiveness

Now you've done it. You've just made this worse, idiot. Hongjoong's uncomfortable.

Before Jongho could free fall into the oncoming spiral, Hongjoong's mouth curved into a smile. It was fragile and cautious, but no longer strained. It was warm.

"You didn't put anyone out. If anything, we felt bad for not looking after you more."

Normally, Jongho would have brushed it aside, he could even feel himself start to, the familiar 'I'm fine' on the tip of his tongue, but he clamped down on his body's go to response. Instead, he listened to what wasn't being said and heard the self-censure and blame their captain wove into his easy tone.

Jongho's body again moved as if it had a mind of its own, reacting to Hongjoong. Grabbing the older's hand, Jongho held tight, willing his sincerity through his fingertips to the other.

"That wasn't on you. I was being stubborn, you couldn't have known."

The sudden skinship shocked Hongjoong, probably as he was aware of how rare it was for Jongho to initiate it. Jongho guessed it was also the shock that kept the older man, who was adverse to skinship like himself, from pulling away. "As the leader I should have—"

"As the leader you do your best, and your best is enough. More than enough. I couldn't imagine doing what you do, heck, I couldn't imagine any one of us being able to carry our team forward the way you have."

"Right."

The strained smile made a return and Hongjoong's fingers went slack in Jongho's. He was pulling away. Jongho couldn't say why, but it felt like if he let him, Hongjoong was going to drift away, so he held on tighter to him. "You're doing a great job, I hope you know that."

"I—" Whatever Hongjoong was going to say was interrupted by a staff member calling for him. "I've got to go."

Jongho urgently squeezed his hand. "Only if you tell me you know."

A wild look flashed in Hongjoong's eyes, as if he was being hunted.

"Hongjoong."

"Fine, fine, I understand, okay?"

Only then did Jongho release him. "Good."

Their Captain couldn't get away fast enough, but Jongho felt like he'd been heard. That must count as a win.

/|_|\

It was not a win.

Jongho realised it when Hongjoong scrambled to get into the other van once the shoot was done, so he wouldn't have to share the one he was on.

And when he got home and it was only him and Wooyoung, Hongjoong's shoes missing from their shoe rack, Jongho knew he'd made a mistake. A huge one. He shouldn't have done something so out of character. He wasn't the pushy, touchy feely type. Of course, Hongjoong was disgusted. Being reassured by someone like Jongho? Who'd want that? That was something Seonghwa or San did for the team, not him. He'd ruined everything.

Jongho had reached his bedroom, his hand on the handle, a plan formulating in his mind to curl up on the floor in the dark until the ground swallowed him up when Wooyoung's hesitant voice held him back.

"Hey, you okay?"

Jongho didn't turn around. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you."

The unease and carefulness in his roommate's voice was reminiscent of Hongjoong's from earlier that day. An itch to respond to the worry niggled at Jongho, the same way it had before. But look how acting on it had turned out for him? Jongho ignored it.

"Of course. Thanks."

Turning the knob, Jongho closed the door on whatever Wooyoung might have said next. And that night, same as the previous nights, Jongho couldn't sleep well. His doubts and his self-recriminations wouldn't let him.

/|_|\