Work Text:
“Are you still in contact with your ex-bandmates?” The interviewer sitting in front of Hansol asks.
She tries to keep her expression neutral, composed, but Hansol can see the thinly-veiled glee written all over her face at the prospect of possibly landing the biggest scoop of the week.
Well yes, but technically no, Hansol answers in his head.
He could explain to her that no, he hadn’t spoken to his bandmates after his departure.
Though technically yes — he had bumped into Mingyu at Yugyeom’s album release party… but they hadn’t so much spoken but rather made out and subsequently slept together. Then slept together four more times since.
Then again, the answer was still technically no. Because their chats weren’t so much conversations, but rather screenshots of their schedules to see when the moon would align and they could get down and dirty again.
No talk about how Hansol had left the band, or how the remaining four members of the band had quickly repositioned and capitalised on his departure. Hansol should've seen it coming—how they penned obviously pointed and scathing lyrics to an emotional ballad that could put Adele to shame.
But also consider: yes, Hansol had spoken to his bandmates (Mingyu). Since their bodies did the talking.
Hansol grimaces internally at his own quip, then realises he had paused to think for ten awkward seconds now, time stretching to let him catch up and consider his options.
He was a free man, uncontracted and loyal to no label. He could’ve explained his and Mingyu’s entire history to the interviewer, could’ve sunk all five of their careers with a single tell-all line in a magazine article.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, after a fifteen-second stretch of silence, he settles for a simple, “No,” and leaves it at that.
-
Like most of his problems, Mingyu blames the him-and-Hansol thing on Seungkwan.
The beginning of their relationship coincides with the band's inception. They were nineteen, and Seungkwan had roped Mingyu and Hansol into forming a band with college upperclassmen Jihoon and Joshua. To this day, Mingyu doesn’t know how he convinced campus go-to music guy Jihoon to join.
The five of them recognised a spark within the group after just a few months of practising and making music — the seeds of something real taking root in Joshua’s parents’ garage.
Seungkwan had also realised that if left unregulated, Joshua and Jihoon would 100% hook up. Just out of sheer boredom and proximity.
So in an effort to “protect the friend group” — his exact words even though Mingyu knew for a fact that he had a crush on Jihoon — Seungkwan insisted on a ban on any intra-group relations.
“Nothing among any of us five. That means sex. Also hand stuff, mouth stuff, just all of it. It’s not allowed – it’ll destroy the peace,” he said, crossing his arms adamantly.
“Rule number 69,” Joshua snickered.
“Why should we suffer just because you can’t get any?” Mingyu protested.
“If you have to resort to sucking face with one of these fuckers, I don’t think you’re getting any, either,” Seungkwan replied.
So they followed rule #69 religiously for six years, which was how long the band lasted as five.
The band took off on social media after Joshua posted their jokey rock rendition of Train's Hey There Delilah on YouTube. Jihoon hated it — but it somehow got them where they needed to be.
Three days later, they were setting up their first show at the bar nearest to their college. Then an EP. Then a California tour. Then a full album and a manager. Then multiple states. Two years later they made their TV debut on Jimmy Fallon, and the rest was modern history.
Hansol left due to “creative differences” – his exact words. They all knew the truth, though, that he was just depressed by and tired of having his actions dictated by greedy label execs and helicopter publicists.
Then in a surprise move, Seungkwan (and Jihoon, more subtly) made it clear that he was leaving their lives if he left the group. Severing their ties wasn't just professional – it was personal and permanent.
Mingyu privately thought it was all bullshit for a bunch of adults. As if they weren’t all at least 25 years old.
So, once again, technically, Hansol was no longer in the friend group when he bumps into Mingyu. He didn’t even expect Hansol to receive an invite to Yugyeom’s party. Who even knew they were friends?
“You could have given me a heads up,” Mingyu complains, jerking his chin in Hansol’s general direction.
Yugyeom grins. “Watching you squirm is so much more fun.” Then, just to be a dick, “Hey, Hansol!”
Hansol turns from where he was scoping out the area, raising a hand in greeting. He doesn’t even register Mingyu’s presence until he’s done conversing with Yugyeom and directed to the bar.
He looks the same as when they were in the band together – that is to say, hot. Mingyu would be a liar if he didn’t acknowledge it. Dark eyeliner defines his piercing brown eyes, sharp cheekbones highlighted, chiseled jaw to boot. He looked like the poster boy of on the covers of the rated magazines Mingyu's stashed under his bed.
Mingyu wonders if it’s appropriate to say hi. Hansol beats him to it with a non-committal nod.
“A rum and coke?” Mingyu suggests when the bartender asks Hansol what he wants. Hansol raises an eyebrow but nods – it’s his go-to drink. Of course Mingyu remembers.
“What a gentleman,” Hansol says, sarcastic.
Silence stretches between them as the bass of Yugyeom's latest single blasts through the speakers. Mingyu sips from his Bacardi on the rocks and pretends not to notice the way Hansol gives him a once-over, eyes raking over Mingyu's body.
Hansol doesn’t leave the bar when his drink arrives, or after he finishes it. He's staring when Mingyu sneaks a glance his way, and then turns away when caught.
An undercurrent, a quiet desire thrumming in his veins. Hansol nods along to the music, but Mingyu knows it's all background fodder to a sure ending.
Maybe it’s their history. Years of actively ignoring the palpable beat of the possibility of something between them.
No longer bound by inane rules – and maybe fuelled by the chance to point a metaphorical middle finger at Seungkwan – Mingyu offers, “My place?”
Hansol takes it.
-
The night before the band made their TV debut on Jimmy Fallon, they slept over in Joshua’s parents’ house.
Mingyu had been lying in bed for hours, mind racing in anxiety. He tossed and turned, rustling in the sheets in a bid to get Seungkwan or Joshua to make conversation with him, but they were both passed out thanks to the melatonin gummies Joshua liked so much.
He headed to the living room. Jihoon was turned over on his side on the floor, breathing even. Hansol was laying on the couch with his eyes open, earphones plugged in.
Mingyu hesitated, standing at the edge of the sofa. They weren’t the closest, after all.
Then Hansol shifted to make space, a silent invitation. “Can’t sleep?”
Mingyu nodded, clambering onto the cushions, careful not to lean too much into Hansol’s space.
“Me too,” he said quietly.
Mingyu borrowed an earbud, fingers tapping the space between them. It’s not as upbeat as he expects, a quiet piano melody that he can’t quite place.
“Hold my hand,” Hansol said. His grip is firm when Mingyu intertwines their fingers together. It doesn’t shake all the anxiety, but it was soothing to have something solid – someone reliable breathing next to him.
Hansol turned to him slightly minutes later, eyes twinkling with the reflection of the lampshade in the corner. "Better?"
"Thanks to you," Mingyu replied, an easy, content smile spreading across his face.
Hansol nodded, turning back. He switched off the light with the remote and started to snore lightly.
Mingyu was still holding his hand.
Suddenly, Jihoon sat up. Mingyu jolted when he caught the move in the corner of his eye.
“What the fuck,” he whisper-yelled. “Thought you were asleep.”
He could make out Jihoon’s scowl in the dark. “Don’t fall in love with him,” Jihoon cautioned.
Mingyu only laughed.
+
Hansol knows the band is performing at the same festival that he is. He does his best to avoid them, but they inevitably pass each other backstage. Joshua offers him a tentative smile. Mingyu nods at him. Seungkwan pointedly looks in the opposite direction. Jihoon stares right past him like he’s a ghost.
He grips the neck of his acoustic guitar tighter and refuses to acknowledge the ache.
+
Soonyoung invites Mingyu to a party. He wants to ask if Hansol will be there.
Despite being Jihoon’s best friend, Soonyoung had refused to cut Hansol out of his life. But it’s obviously on the rest of the band members’ minds. Seungkwan passes on the invite – a rarity for the social butterfly. Jihoon says he’ll make an appearance, which Mingyu knows means he’ll come for five minutes, say hi to acquaintances, then dip.
He heads to Soonyoung’s San Fernando Valley mansion with Joshua in tow. He socialises, helplessly watches out for Hansol, and drinks. Jihoon waves at him when he makes his scheduled attendance, and starts to speak but hesitates – Mingyu wonders if he wants to ask if he’d seen Hansol.
There are a lot of men in leather jackets. Mingyu doesn't need to squint to know they’re not Hansol. The gait, silhouette, everything is wrong. He knows.
The alcohol is an distraction. Plus Jun ropes him, Soonyoung, and Joshua into a beer pong game, a shot roulette, and drunk jenga, all of which he and Joshua win. Which is how he finds himself near sober when the clock hits 4am.
The party dies down at five after most of the guests vacate the home in search of real food, including Joshua and Jun, who promise to bring back McDonalds.
Mingyu showers, raids Soonyoung’s closet for his baggiest and most expensive clothes, then heads downstairs for a snack to tide him through the wait.
The state of Soonyoung’s fridge is abysmal for the level of success he’s achieved, so Mingyu settles on some white bread that he prays hasn't expired yet.
He spots someone lying on an oversized popsicle-shaped inflatable floatie in the pool. He knows it’s Hansol before he even heads over.
“Hey,” Mingyu greets, dipping his toes in as he sits on the edge of the pool.
Hansol doesn’t startle, expression impassive as usual. He looks peaceful, arms spread slightly by his side. He cracks an eye open and raises a brow, then closes his eyes again. “Thought you weren’t to be seen talking with me.”
“They’re not here,” Mingyu answers. He cringes at himself. Coward.
“I was thinking of telling him,” he amends. “Don’t you think it’s time we do that?”
Hansol considers this for a second. Then, “Why are you asking me that? It’s not like I’m still friends with them.”
“What about me?” Mingyu kicks his legs, making tiny ripples in the water that make Hansol’s floatie sway.
“What about you?”
“Am I still your friend?”
Hansol only hums.
+
They duck out of the house before Joshua arrives. Hansol knows Joshua is friendly and holds no hard feelings even though he’s left the band. But he can’t take the dissonance between the familiar person – one of his closest, oldest friends – and the inevitable distance that now exists between them.
Maybe it’s easier with Mingyu because they weren’t that close before, relationship already riddled with caution, Hansol contemplates. Or maybe it’s easier just because it’s Mingyu.
-
Mingyu was hot on Hansol's heels after he announced his departure from the band. Joshua must've seen it from a mile away, because he crossed his arms and wished Hansol the best of luck. Jihoon refused to look at Hansol, and Seungkwan had voiced his disappointment, loud and unforgiving.
But Mingyu had to do something, had to try —
"That's it?" He pleaded. Hansol paused in his tracks. "You're just going to leave?"
"You heard him. It's over," Hansol sighed, voice laboured. He had spent so long pondering the choice, if it was okay to do this to the band he's loved so much. But he needed to take a leap, and he couldn't afford to second-guess. "What else is there to say?"
Hansol waited for more. For Mingyu to stop him.
But Mingyu could see how the band had worn Hansol out. If push came to shove, Mingyu knew he could be strong-armed into compliance. But if he wasn't happy, then what was the point of keeping him there?
Countless words to close the end echoed in Mingyu's head: I haven't told you I love you yet, in more ways than just the one; truth is I still need you in my life; can't we still be friends?
Then door to the meeting room opened, and the rest of the band joined him in the hallway.
All his words and resolve dissolved in his throat, and Hansol walked away.
+
“Would you have dated Hansol if Seungkwan hadn’t created rule 69?”
Mingyu almost chokes on his drink when Jihoon asks the question. It’s a bolt out of the blue, but Jihoon was always more relaxed, personal in smaller settings.
It’s just the two of them with beers on the table at a quiet bar the band frequented. Jihoon had finished mixing a new song and called Mingyu out for a drink.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Mingyu says, looking away. He doesn’t trust himself to look Jihoon in the eye and be able to lie convincingly. “I would ask you about you-know-who, but I already know the answer,” he deflects.
The tips of Jihoon’s ears go red, but he doesn’t look embarrassed. “Yeah, my crush on Shua was pretty obvious. But so was Seungkwannie’s. Maybe we could have had something, or likely we would've flamed out like Seungkwan predicted.
“We'll never know, though, right? Sacrifice – that’s the name of the game, and keeping the peace was more important,” Jihoon says.
Mingyu doesn’t correct him to say that Seungkwan actually had a crush on Jihoon. He also doesn't point out that if Jihoon had expressed his steadfast commitment to the band and its peace, maybe Seungkwan wouldn't have been petty and create the goddamned rule in the first place.
But Jihoon doesn’t sound defeated. He says it so matter-of-factly that Mingyu thinks to be brave for a moment.
Their song Comedown fades out on the radio, and Hansol’s new song starts immediately after. Black Eye – Mingyu recalls. He smiles despite himself at hearing Hansol’s voice. It was finally what Hansol wanted to do.
Mingyu tries to school his face back into indifference after Jihoon gives him a pointed look. He takes a sip of his beer, buying time.
“I would have asked Hansol out proper,” he confesses quietly after a moment. He can’t help the anguish that seeps through his voice. So close, yet so far, a melody never fully realised. He can’t resist the thought that he and Hansol would have had something real if things were easier. Less complicated, less history, less uncontrollable variables between them.
"Soonyoung told me you guys left together after his party," Jihoon starts carefully.
Mingyu nods, Jihoon's echo of don't fall in love with him ping-ponging in his head.
“Well, Hansol isn’t in the band anymore,” Jihoon points out, swirling the last of the beer in his glass. Mingyu expected a bite to the words. After all, he had implied he’d cut ties with Hansol over his decision.
But his voice is gentle, understanding, wistful. He smiles knowingly. “So what are you waiting for?”
+
The next time Mingyu comes around, it’s because Hansol invites him over to listen to new music as he pivots to a more emo-rock sound. Then Mingyu begins to stop by whenever he’s bored.
The weather in California is awful. Through storms, droughts, a wildfire – Mingyu makes the trip every time. He complains like crazy, and sometimes he’s late, but he always makes it.
Later, they make new songs together, and it brings them both relief. They don’t acknowledge how much they’ve missed it, how music was the thing that bound them together in the first place, but now with three people less. Something just for themselves.
Hansol mixes the song, and sends it over.
Mingyu's heart leaps when his message arrives: Lowkey perfect together.
+
“Is there anyone you’d like to collaborate with?” The interviewer in front of Mingyu asks. Her smile is polite, but it’s clear she wants the chat to be over and done with. The conversation has been dry, the band giving PR-friendly answers that could be taken from any other magazine spread they’ve done.
It’s the first time they’re on the cover of this publication without Hansol, and Mingyu keeps thinking about the memory.
Hansol had asked him to fix his collar the last time they were here. Mingyu’s breath hitched as his fingers brushed Hansol’s nape. Cue Hansol’s smile, brilliant and real.
He has been bouncing his leg out of boredom for the past 10 minutes. Joshua had placed a hand on his knee twice in a bid to get him to stop, but he can’t shake the restlessness.
Joshua answers the interviewer’s question with a joke about Sunday Morning. Seungkwan says Harry Styles, then it’s his turn.
Mingyu could keep the peace – but it’s fake. Late at night in the studio, he hears Seungkwan mourn the loss of Hansol in his life through lyrics he never shows anyone else. Joshua left his door open, and Jihoon doesn’t hold a grudge anymore.
So fuck the peace. Mingyu’s ready to tell the story, needs it to move forward.
“There’s this up-and-coming songwriter whose music I really like. Actually, I’m really into him personally, too.” Mingyu spills the information without thinking too hard, mouth a motor ahead of his brain. “Hansol – I’d really love to release another song with him.”
Jihoon grins.