Chapter Text
Sparrow. Or, was it Eagle? Parrot?
To Changbin, it didn’t matter. The club, oddly named after a bird, wasn’t representative of one. It was deafening, dingy— dimly lit with neon red. The stench of mixed liquor filled any space in the air that didn’t have a sweaty body passing through. Everyone here, shirtless, or in some form of undress. Masks galore.
Gay club or not, everyone had a hidden identity it seemed. Seoul seems much more lovely when you’re on the outside looking in, Changbin found. Especially now. Sat in a secluded corner near the smoking area, the faint smell of nicotine leaking into the building keeping his mind afloat amid the couple besides him.
Making out.
This typically wasn’t his scene.
Fridays were weird.
See, the night started with Hyunjin. As it often did. The abode they’d crafted together for maximum comfort was currently being used as a makeshift art studio. During their break, Hyunjin had ordered an oversized canvas with the intent on painting something to fill the empty wall space in their hallway. That was last week, and it arrived this afternoon.
Or, yesterday afternoon. Possibly. Changbin couldn’t tell the time, but the full moon outside was an indicator of lateness.
An hour passed, and Hyunjin very kindly told him to make himself scarce. He was in the zone. Only music and his art supplies could be in the space. As comforting as he found Changbin’s breathing, there was a time and place. Changbin had rolled his eyes, noting how dramatic he was.
Hyunjin sarcastically feigned innocence to that.
It wasn’t the first time either of them had kicked the other out to concentrate, and it wouldn’t be the last. Changbin didn’t take offence, slipping on a jacket, his mask and shoes before seeing where the day would take him. Simple, at first. Window shopping for nothing in particular, lingering in a cafe over his phone and coffee that had quickly turned lukewarm.
It reached eight and Hyunjin hadn’t texted, so Changbin took the liberty of finding a quiet hole in the wall he could nestle into. Writing up lyric ideas that sprung to mind in the notes on his phone. He didn’t need permission from his manager for this.
Not like he asked for permission with anything.
It was how he met his partner for the night. Tall, lean. Handsome in a certain angle, and a certain light. His tone, mellifluous, as if put on. Rehearsed. Supported by the fact his words seemed to be intentionally placed, as if luring Changbin in intentionally. He should have been angry that it worked, he should have considered declining to join him on his venture throughout spots in Seoul’s seedy underbelly.
None of it mattered now. Not the name of the club, not how the night started, not how the butterflies in his stomach seemed to worsen at the raunchiness surrounding them. The man, his temporary companion; a person he didn’t even know the name of, returned with drinks. He stayed standing, lingering over Changbin. Before downing his drink in one shot.
Changbin reached for the drink bought for him but the man smirked, raising the drink higher.
“Ah, ah— Hold on,” he spoke, amused. He’d drank so much that Changbin was surprised he showed no signs of intoxication. Compared to his own dizziness and flushed cheeks, the man could be the picture perfect showing of sobriety. “Chin up, baby.”
Right.
That was another thing.
The man never stopped with pet names.
Changbin didn’t have any time to linger on that before the man’s hand rested against his chin, lifting his head up. Proceeding to pull down his mask, a thumb brushed against his quivering bottom lip. Changbin should have retaliated. He should have pushed him away for taking away his only protection, but—
“Open.”
Inhibitions be damned, Changbin listened.
As if this stranger opened up the sky. The liquor burned on its way down, but Changbin didn’t tremble or spill. The drink was foreign to his tastebuds, but it wasn’t as if he drank much in the first place. The occasional night out with the group, drinking being spurred on by Jisung. The occasional gift here and there, a wine he’d split with Chan gifted from F.Hero.
This was new, and Changbin couldn’t tell if he enjoyed the drink or having the man take the lead for him. Having anyone take the reigns for once.
“Good boy.”
Changbin realised it was the latter.
In this tiny corner of Seoul, Changbin decided to forget the life he’d lived till that point. Shared kisses, lips against lips and lips against necks. Flashes of cameras, and applause for the guys dancing on the bar countertop. Hiding his reddened face in the taxi ride home; stumbling up a stairwell. The dorm was dark. The canvas in the middle of the room was covered by a tarp and Hyunjin was nowhere to be found.
That was a morning conversation. The tiniest part in the back of Changbin’s brain that was still relatively sober was grateful that this wasn’t happening now.
He needed a shower, desperately. Yet, Changbin found himself swallowed up by the comfort his bed granted him upon falling on top of it. Gyu, nestled between his pillows, staring at him. Changbin pouted, groaning into the comforter as he turned his head away.
“Don’t— Don’t look at me like that.”
Changbin managed to kick off a single shoe before exhaustion relieved him of staying awake.
He had fun, and he couldn’t say that often as of late.
By the time he woke up, rain was splattering against the windows harshly. Changbin ignored it at first— relishing in the between of consciousness and sleep. Raising his head was a chore, which only resulted in turning around on his back as he felt the throbbing against his skull. Felt the ache in his joints from the stiff position he slept in. The dryness of his throat.
Alas, the morning after. The bodily warning that attempted to guard you against nights like that. One that many ignored, and Changbin hoped the two of them didn’t become acquainted.
“How did I—,” coughing to clear his throat. “Nevermind. My phone… Where are you…”
Patting himself down did the trick, but didn’t help him any further. Dead battery. With a deep sigh, Changbin moved slowly throughout the room. Samsung charging, clothes thrown in the laundry basket, and a body forced into the shower. He never knew just how heavenly hot water could be before now. Steaming and almost scalding, Changbin couldn’t get enough.
Drying up, a towel was slung over his damp hair. Bathrobe covering his body as he slipped on a new pair of underwear.
“HYUNG! Hyung, hey—“
“Aish!” Changbin hissed, instinctively tightening the robe around himself before sitting. Hyunjin, yet again, intruding on his space. Bursting right through the door. He’d complain, but Changbin didn’t have a leg to stand on. He’s positive he’s spent more nights sleeping in Hyunjin’s bed than his own. “What if I had been naked, huh? What then?”
“Nothing we haven’t all seen before,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I heard your shower running. Do you know what time it is?”
“Wha— No, no. I don’t.”
“It is one in the afternoon. Where were you last night? I texted you like ten times before I went to bed.”
Changbin’s eyes widened. Sure, he definitely got a few hours of sleep a day. Certainly more than some members, but for this long? He shuffled to his now awakened phone to confirm what Hyunjin said. Groaning, he sat back down, hand on head.
“Hello? What time did you get in?”
“I have… No idea.”
Hyunjin laughs in response. Head falling back and eyes creasing as he always does when tickled. He really found this side of Changbin funny, as uncommon as it was. Changbin reaches to punch him in the arm, but a Hyunjin that isn’t hungover is much quicker than a Changbin that is. It’s only then that he notices that Hyunjin isn’t dressed. Or, well. Not dressed for going out that is. Opting for comfortable day clothes.
He beckons Changbin out of his room.
“Come on. I was making lunch. You can update me on your little escapade. Your adventure in the night. The reason why your breath still stinks like cheap tequila.”
“… Crap.”
“Ha! You can brush your teeth after you eat. One late day won’t kill you.”
Their living space was as untouched as last night. The canvas was still covered but Hyunjin’s supplies had been moved closer. Changbin wondered if he’d interrupted an incoming creativity surge, but Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind— lowering the volume on the smooth R&B playing in the room before returning to the kitchen. The smell of chicken suddenly hit his nostrils, some seasoning he couldn’t place his finger on. Pasta was boiling on the stove.
It was strange. In these moments with Hyunjin, he felt so at home. Whenever everyone came together, that was home. The same feeling he’d get when actually going back home. Resting in his mothers arms as his father and sister laughed in the kitchen over food.
He wanted to be truthful with Hyunjin.
Changbin, nearly a decade later with his family, wanted to be truthful with all of them. It was his biggest downfall, dealing with his entire life by himself. Installing such an impenetrable brick wall of confidence that he couldn’t let anyone past that. Sure, they had their peaks. The occasional view past the exterior, but not often.
Realistically, Changbin knew they’d be more than accepting of his sexuality. Yet, it came down to the horror of being known.
The amplified position of stardom happened to worsen that fear.
His sister knew. The sister he adored and loved. She held him and laughed on a New Years night. Saying it changed nothing, but joked that he shouldn’t look at the same guys she was interested in. His heart felt love at that moment. Changbin was positive his parents also had an inkling, but they’d never confronted him about it.
The concept of a gay idol wasn’t foreign. It just wasn’t common, either.
“Earth to Changbin? Are you in there?”
Right.
Changbin sat at the kitchen island, head in hands. Hyunjin hovering over from the opposite side, pushing a bowl in front of him.
“You’re a million miles away,” Hyunjin hummed, mouth full of food. He poked at Changbin’s hand with his fork. “Talk to me. There’s something bothering you.”
“I’m just tired. You know me.”
“Uhuh,” it was a bad lie, and Changbin knew it. Seemingly, so did Hyunjin. “If you say so. Are you going to tell me about what you got up to last night?”
“Nothing crazy. Chaeryeong and I got drinks. I was distracted talking. Y’know.”
Hyunjin squints from the other side of the island, straightening his back and picking up his bowl. Changbin can see he’s contemplating something but the continued lack of silence pushes Changbin into starting his meal. After a few minutes, Hyunjin is placing his empty bowl in the sink whilst Changbin is still eating. He turns to face him.
“You can tell me anything. You know that, right? Not just me. Chan, Jis—“
“I know, Hyunjin.”
“Okay. Just… Making sure. You mother-hen over us so much, it’s only fair we baby you too sometimes.”
Hyunjin somehow sounds disappointed, and he disappears into the dorm, leaving Changbin with his thoughts and the soft tunes of a Marvin Gaye song.
This is where the problem stemmed. Changbin was sick of allowing the fear of being known, and being rejected for being known, to control him. He craved more than anything the love he felt in the memory of his sister. Changbin could chase the temporary high in meaningless kisses from strangers, fuelling his bravery— but it simply wasn’t the same.
Changbin wanted to tell them all years ago. Tear down that wall with a sledgehammer and invite them inside, to a part of his life he wanted to be confident about. The fear grew into procrastinating, and when courage was eventually found: it felt like too late. Years would pass, and he’d laugh about their jokes of him being bad with girls. Damning himself. Changbin sighs.
His bowl join’s Hyunjin’s, and he returns to his room to find his phone buzzing incessantly on the side table.
Sure enough, the texts from Hyunjin last night are there too. Changbin smirks.
CHANGBIN + HYUNJIN
[binnie]: i’m home safe
[jinnie]: i will never stay up worried about you again
Laughing, he switches over to the group chat.
SKZ!
[chan]: Reminder! Practice tomorrow, 9:30.
[puppy]: ?
[sungie]: i forgot abt that :/ what is it for again?
[lino]: last minute check-in’s before we have next week off.
[chan]: Yup.
[puppy]: ugh
[foxface]: a week off!
[jinnie]: a week off!!!
[binnie]: a week off!!!!!!!!!!
The day was uneventful. Changbin spent it recuperating in his room, hidden between his pillows alongside Gyu and a notepad full of lyrics. Nighttime came, and so did Seungmin and Jeongin. Infiltrating their space, but that happened more often than not. Rooming arrangements meant nothing when everyone floated between each other’s places anyway.
Changbin, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin bundle up on the long couch in the living room, despite the fact there were two available armchairs. Changbin, stuffed between Hyunjin and Seungmin, idly scrolls through the television as the rest of them bicker.
Thinking about everything.
“Changbin-hyung, what do you think?” It’s Seungmin’s voice, and Changbin realises he tuned them out minutes before. “Who has the better break plans?”
He blinks. Between who? What plans are there? Should he just come up with something on the spot?
“You weren’t paying attention, were you?”
Busted.
“Ugh,” Seungmin groans, receiving his answer clearly through Changbin’s silence and the flustered blush invading his cheeks. “I’m spending the break doing nothing. Jeongin wants to spend a week travelling to different countries in Asia to try watermelon—“
“You don’t see the vision,” and that’s Jeongin interrupting, followed by Hyunjin giggling on Changbin’s side. He looks over to see that Hyunjin isn’t even listening, he’s laughing at his phone whilst leaning on Jeongin.
“You can try watermelon here!”
“It might be different in say, Japan or India or Tha—“
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“I say go for it,” Changbin shrugs, finally latching onto the conversation. “Can’t be any worse than his energy drinks live.”
“Hey!” Jeongin scolds, leaning over Hyunjin to slap at Changbin’s thigh. “That was a good idea. At the time.”
“Sure.”
“Fine, what are you doing, Changbin-hyung?”
What was he going to do? Changbin had no idea himself. Catch up with his family during the week. Spending time with Hyunjin, likely being dragged to a celebratory dinner by Chan and Jisung with everyone. Rest, recuperate, mentally prepare for everything that’ll happen after their break. Nothing worth noting.
Definitely not thinking about meeting another man.
“Nothing interesting. Relaxing,” Changbin pouted, shrugging. He could practically feel the way Jeongin rolled his eyes. Seungmin nodded, clearly understanding, and obviously agreeing. “That’s all.”
Changbin almost gets whiplash at the way Seungmin softly rests into his side, head on his shoulder, whilst harshly snatching away the television remote from him. He smirks, thinking nothing of it as the younger finds the first horror movie available, not checking what it is.
“Hey. Stray Kids is trending,” Hyunjin says, minutes later. Jeongin snorts. “I bet it’s the video announcements, right?”
“Phone down, hyung!”
The rain hadn’t stopped.
Changbin had run from the company car towards the building with an umbrella and still had to dry himself with a towel when he reached the dance studio. The Kids were buzzing around, especially Jeongin. Changbin couldn’t believe he had this much energy after keeping them up to watch a comedy the night prior, since the horror movie was too scary to fall asleep to afterwards.
“You’ll thank me when you don’t have nightmares tonight,” he’d said, and Seungmin had scoffed.
Since arriving, Felix had been attached to his hip. Changbin didn’t complain, even if the younger man was preventing him from moving from the couches. Head on his shoulder, legs resting on his lap.
Changbin was not a strong man when it came to anyone in his group.
Felix had shoved a bottle of water into his hands, knowing well that Changbin had forgotten his own. Felix was right, but Changbin wasn’t going to admit that anytime soon. Accepting graciously with a quick swig to hide the redness of his cheeks.
“Where are you heading after this, hyung?”
He himself has no idea, so he hopes Felix is satisfied with a shrug of the shoulders.
“Hm.”
Felix is not satisfied with a shrug of the shoulders.
“Minho and I are going to a café afterwards,” Felix continues. The mention of Minho’s name lures the man towards them. “You should join us.”
Changbin’s face must betray his want to be alone as Minho speaks up. “You will join us.”
“Ah!” Changbin whines, a little too loudly. Felix is smirking. “I don’t even get a choice?”
He’s met with a resounding no. Minho joins in lounging against him on the couch, idly scrolling through his phone. Changbin is suddenly vastly aware of his existence. He’s back in that club, limbs that don’t belong to him hanging over him and leaning into him. The music is blasting from the speakers as Hyunjin and Seungmin practice a move together, and Changbin recalls something catchy and poppy as lips caress his.
Felix’s camera flashes to snap the moment between the two dancers, capturing the moment in time. To be stored away as a physical memory forever. Changbin feels dread in his stomach and is unsure why.
“Binnie,” Minho’s voice interrupts. Changbin looks down, blinking. “Your leg is bouncing.”
Then, Felix. “Are you alright, hyung?”
“Yeah,” he responds, a little too quick, a little too panicked. “Just ready to get started.”
An easily surpassable lie. Changbin doesn’t miss the way that Felix and Minho eye one another but it puts the conversation to rest. Soon enough, they’re all up on their feet. Following instructions to a routine they’d already perfected. Frustration was present in the air. The only thing stopping them from complaining was the time off after this. Especially Seungmin, as Changbin could see the man’s face gradually fall as time passed.
The clock struck eleven and training was interrupted by the presence of a neatly dressed woman at the door.
“Seo-ssi, come with me,” the woman spoke, motioning with her hand as the music was switched off. She looks towards Chan. “You too.”
Changbin nearly flinches at the coldness in her tone, immediately looking towards Chan for comfort. The older is holding back a glare, but the frown invading his features is obvious to everyone in the room. Changbin only begins to move when Chan does, as the woman in the doorway is obnoxiously tapping her foot in their direction. As if she had anything and everything to do.
Before he can turn and tell him to stay, Jisung is already following the pair of them. Regardless of an invite. Changbin found he didn’t mind. Jisung’s hand on his arm was a small comfort as Chan walked ahead, trying to question the woman with them.
“What is this about?” Jisung is whispering, and Changbin isn’t sure why but entertains him with an equally quiet voice.
“I have no idea.”
Chan isn’t worried about the loudness of his voice.
“What is this about? You’re interrupting our practice time,” he shouts, repeating Jisung’s question, garnering the attention of JYP workers in the hall. “Could this not have waited?”
There’s nothing more that Changbin appreciates in that moment than Chan and Jisung. He feels like a child back in school. Called to the teachers office for whatever reason. Not that Changbin was ever in trouble, the shining definition of a star student. The dread hadn’t left his stomach and he was forced to live with it as the woman guided them into an office room.
Multiple men and women surrounded the end of a conference table, hushed whispers as fingers pointed to a laptop screen and paper that he couldn’t see properly. An underpaid intern was fiddling with a separate computer linking to the television screen centered in the middle of the room. Their manager was in the middle of them all, seemingly frustrated with an older man to his left. His eyes portrayed something that wasn’t quite fear, but something akin to it.
Changbin wasn’t sure his manager had ever looked at him with so much sympathy before.
“You three can sit down,” the older man called, not even offering a glance towards them as workers continued to whisper in his ears. He absentmindedly points to their manager amid the talks. “You can go.”
Jisung drags him to two seats as Chan contemplates on what to do next. Ultimately, their leader follows and sits to Changbin’s left as Jisung sits to his right. At least between them, he felt a sense of security. Their manager leans down in his ear before leaving.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Chan and Jisung both hear it and stare before Changbin even has time to process. The chaos of the room is stressful enough — an unexpected apology is only adding to it. It was as if the world was a blur. Worry was clouding his brain and blinding him to the movement around him. Minutes passed before they were even referred to and Changbin felt the presence of Jisung’s hand on his thigh, preventing his leg from bouncing as it was. Jisung was far too knowledgeable on that, and Changbin mumbled an apology.
Jisung shook his head, looking back at the man.
“The past thirty hours have been a social media storm for you, and it brings into question whether you still have the best intentions regarding the image of this company at hand,” it was almost mindless drivel that Changbin would ignore had the man not been staring at him. Not Chan, not Jisung. Him. It was a fear tactic. Cleverly chosen words to scare him through reprimanding. He’d been here before. He just wasn’t sure why he was here now. “This has surpassed Korea. Articles are being published worldwide through your stupid decision. America, Australia, Ca—“
“This is becoming rude,” Chan countered. “What is this about?”
The woman from before was lingering at the man’s side. With a click of a remote, the television came to life.
Changbin’s stomach dropped.
He recognised the scene. The decaying plush seating of a club. The couple making out as if their lives depended on it. The walls filled with old stickers and posters advertising queer nights for dates long passed. Cigarette smoke mixing with party lighting blurred the camera, but clear as day in the middle of it all was Changbin. It was him.
This was the stupid decision he had made.
It wasn’t just the one photo. The slideshow flickered. Revealing the presence of his partner for that night with his hand on Changbin’s chin, pulling his mask down. Another photo showing the drink being tilted into his mouth, and another of the man’s lips against his own. Against his flustered cheeks, against his neck.
Laid out on the big screen for everyone to see. Something he was genuinely planning to take to the grave if it meant his career.
The bile threatening his throat burned, and the uncomfortable dread in his stomach was almost painful. The words of everyone in the room became inaudible. Changbin couldn’t look away until he felt the eyes of Chan and Jisung on him. It only forced him to stare at his own lap in a pathetic form of retreat. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere else. At home with his mother. Stealing Hyunjin’s bed. Dinner with Chaeryeong or Wooyoung or Yeonjun.
Something nice.
Something that wasn’t a moment he could choke on.
The one aspect of life that Changbin thought he had privacy with was up for discussion with the room. Not just the room, but the world — and it terrified him.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Changbin knew it was his fault. Stupidly going along with the night as if he wasn’t an idol, even if it granted him normalcy. Even for one night. He regretted it now, more than anything. The minutes of silence in his head felt like an eternity as the conversation about him happened without him. He wanted to kick and scream, but he wanted to cry and break down. The rapidly switching emotions haunting his mind were making this difficult. Then, he felt a surge of anger.
His chest heaved, and Changbin gripped the rich mahogany of the table as he tuned into the argument between Chan and the man before them.
“This isn’t an image we’re trying to promote—“
Changbin has never been compliant with them. Nor was he planning to start today, even if horror and embarrassment had an iron grip around him.
“Why can’t it be?” The eyes of everyone in the room on him. The eyes of the men he loves, has travelled the world with, made music with. The men he never told. Changbin never told anyone about that aspect of his life, but suddenly he felt. Brave. Defiant. Because now they knew, and this was why. “What? You want me to write up an apology I don’t mean for social media? Do you want me to regret it? Because—“
“There are more people at risk here than you.” The words of the man are bitter. Hissing at him. Reminding him, not just of his place, but of those around him. “This isn’t just you.”
“So— What? You want me to leave?”
“No.” That isn’t the voice of the men in front of him, and Changbin’s head swirls around to meet Jisung. “No. You’re my best friend. You’re not leaving.”
Jisung isn’t looking at him. Equally rebellious, staring down the men and women at the end of the table.
“Jisung—“
“No, hyung,” and now he looks at Changbin. He isn’t upset like Changbin thought he would be. Unable to decipher the emotion behind the eyes of the man he’d known for years. “Drop it. You’re not going. How— How is this even a controversy? Because, because, what? You kissed someone at a club on your day off?”
“Club hopping. Gogo boys. He kissed a ma—“
“Enough.” That was Chan, and Changbin didn’t dare turn around to face him. Aside from Jisung, he didn’t have the courage to face anyone else in the room. Especially after not plucking up the courage to even tell his Stray Kids all these years later. “This is going nowhere. We’ll return to it when we’ve spoken.”
Not directed at Changbin, no. He could see in the corner of his peripheral that the man across the table was biting his tongue. He switches the television screen off, and stands up.
“You have three days. I suggest you make the most of them.”
Defiance didn’t feel so comforting anymore, replaced by a sickness Changbin could not place.
Changbin didn’t want to hear anything else that was said. His body was moving before his mind could catch up, abandoning the seat in favour of speed walking out of the room and towards the exit of the building.
In retrospect, running home in the rain with only a hoodie as protection wasn’t a good idea.
Changbin wanted his sister.
He wanted the fireworks of the New Year.