muted dialogue (1/2)
Title: muted dialogue
Pairing: youngjae/zelo
Rating: PG-13
Genre: slice of life
Length: ~14,000 words
Summary: they're in love but they aren't friends, and maybe that's the problem.
part one | part two
Junhong appears on his doorstep two days after Christmas, armed with nothing more than the clothes he’s wearing, a cap and probably a wallet somewhere in his pocket. Youngjae isn’t completely surprised. Junhong is a sweet kid, sure, but being nice doesn’t mean that he’s beyond running away from home.
This is all some kind of phase; a teenage rebellion thing. Junhong probably just wants an adventure or whatever. Youngjae isn’t the type to pry.
So he pauses instead, stares in disbelief for about half a second because that’s probably what he’s supposed to do, then just shrugs and opens the door wider, giving enough room for the younger boy to slip inside.
“Hyung,” Junhong says casually, like he didn’t just appear out of thin air, “Hi.”
Youngjae raises an eyebrow. Junhong grins, for some odd reason, like he was expecting the reaction.
“Should I ask, or will I just be wasting my breath?” is what he says finally, when it becomes evident that the other boy isn’t going to offer an explanation.
Junhong shrugs. It’s not really an answer, but he knows him well enough to take it as a no. He doesn’t push.
Junhong peers behind Youngjae’s back, head slightly tilted.
“Yeah, mom’s there. Cooking dinner,” he explains, unprompted, “Stay for the meal. I bet she’ll be delighted. She’s been saying we don’t appreciate her cooking enough.”
The discomfort that crosses the younger boy’s features is too evident to be missed-and that’s just confusing, really, because what did Junhong come all the way here for anyway if he wasn’t planning to stay?
“I can’t-”
“You can,” he cuts him off, because he’s really not in the mood for pointless arguments, “There’s more than enough for everyone. Don’t worry about it.”
Junhong blinks, something he always does when he’s nervous, but nods anyway. It’s a slow gesture, hesitant, but it’s there and Youngjae’s just happy that he even gets a response.
He tells his mom about their surprise guest a few minutes later, and though she definitely isn’t expecting it, she’s more than pleased at the thought of having more company. It gets worse when he informs her that Junhong is still in high school (final year, Junhong hastily adds, as if it makes a whole lot of difference), and she practically coos over him.
“Are you staying the night?” she asks, eyes bright, and Youngjae can almost imagine her stuffing Junhong half to death with desserts.
Junhong opens his mouth, denial at the very tip of his tongue, but Youngjae answers for him.
“Yeah, he is.”
He pointedly ignores the helpless looks Junhong shoots his way.
His mom is so delighted she ends up pinching Junhong’s cheeks-much to the boy’s chagrin and Youngjae’s amusement-and she leaves the two with a promise that she’ll cook something extra special.
“She loves you already,” Youngjae notes somewhat bitterly, and Junhong laughs.
They end up waiting in his bedroom, with him sprawled out on the bed and Junhong looking through the pile of junk on his desk curiously. It’s not until a little later, when Junhong self-declares that he’s entitled to rummage through Youngjae’s drawers, that he realizes it’s Junhong’s first time in his house. He wonders if he should make some sort of effort; be a good host and all that nonsense. But then Junhong decides to manically laugh at his horrible choice of underwear, so Youngjae just stops trying.
(In his defense, he only bought those floral-patterned briefs because his mom wouldn’t shut up about it.)
“If you don’t stop laughing, I swear I’ll force you to wear those tomorrow.”
Junhong gulps down a laugh. Youngjae nods, satisfied.
Then:
“I didn’t bring anything over.”
Youngjae stares at him like he thinks he’s stupid.
“I’m not blind, thank you very much.” Junhong frowns. Not for the first time, Youngjae discovers that the other boy is much dimmer than he gives him credit for. And to think that he actually thought that there’s a limit to stupidity. “The clothes might be a tight fit, but that’s your own fault for failing to stop your growth spurt.”
Junhong smiles then, but says nothing.
Youngjae thinks he hears a thank you anyways.
-
They fought over the bed using rock paper scissors and unsurprisingly, Youngjae and his rotten luck leads him to spend the night on a mattress laid out on his own bedroom floor.
It’s way past midnight. Neither of them are asleep. Junhong is lying on the bed, mindlessly flipping through one of Youngjae’s biology textbooks. Youngjae isn’t sure what he’s planning to achieve (the boy’s not even into science), but he doesn’t wreck his head thinking about it. Junhong has always been kind of odd.
Or maybe he’s just treating it as a bedtime story, in which case Youngjae has to wonder why he isn’t asleep already.
“Remember to turn the lights off after you’re done doing whatever you’re doing.”
A slight pause, then the book is closed shut as Junhong sets it aside.
“You can turn off the lights now, if you want.”
Youngjae frowns.
“You do it. You’re the reason it’s still on.”
“Don’t be a brat, hyung, you’re closer to the switch,” Junhong points out, and even though it’s true Youngjae feels like smacking his head anyways, “And besides, if I get out from the bed I’ll probably step on you.”
It’s another way of saying that his room is pitifully small. That’s another true fact, sadly, but he doesn’t appreciate the comment being given by a freeloader. He throws a pillow at Junhong’s face before going off to flip the switch, not bothering to check if it hits. The surprised yelp is a pretty good hint though, so he’s pretty much satisfied.
“Goodnight,” he hears Junhong say, and he makes a small sound from the back of his throat in reply.
Twenty minutes later, Youngjae’s still awake and he blames it all on the floor. The mattress helps, of course-it more or less lessens the discomfort-but it isn’t very thick and there’s still this sense of something hard lodged between his backbones. He tosses and turns to try to find a position that’ll give the least pain, but the only thing he manages to end up with is a choice between sacrificing his back or his hips, neither of which he’s particularly fond of.
He groans, frustrated, and that’s when Junhong flops down beside him.
“What on earth are you doing?” he says as the boy creeps under his blanket, making himself comfortable.
“Trying to sleep?” Junhong replies, and he hates how Junhong makes it sound like he just asked something completely ridiculous.
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
If it isn’t for the fact that it’s much too dark for him to see anything, much less Junhong’s head, he would have given him an incredulous stare. Not that it would make a lot of difference, because Junhong would just stare back blankly anyways.
“If you’re not going to utilise the bed, I’ll help myself.”
Youngjae sits up, thanking the stars for creating Junhong as a child who’s apparently weird enough to give comfort for god knows what, before a hand grabs his and tugs down hard enough that he’s sent toppling back to where he started.
There’s a pause as Youngjae blinks, dazed. As soon as he comes back to his senses, though, he clutches the pillow underneath his palm and sends it flying in the other boy’s direction. He sees it hit this time, but it doesn’t count because Junhong has a blanket wrapped around himself, creating a protective layer.
It doesn’t stop Youngjae from grabbing another pillow and whacking him. Repeatedly.
“You-” he fumes, scrambling for the blanket to try to get it off, “-are such a brat.”
“Ow!” the boy cries out, “Stop it, hyung, this is child abuse!”
He doesn’t know how long they spent wrapped up in their mini pillow fight before they finally collapse on the mattress in a messy heap, tired and out of breath. Junhong’s laughing, the idiot, but Youngjae has kind of lost the right to give him hell for it because he can’t quite stop his own lips from quirking upwards.
“Okay, really, what are you up to?” he asks again in between breaths, “And if you give me some cheesy answer like ‘I’m actually afraid of the dark’, I’ll throw you out of the house.”
Junhong frowns, trying to look annoyed. But this is Junhong he’s dealing with so it looks more like a pout. Youngjae tries not to laugh.
“I’m not a girl.”
“You’re acting like one.”
“I just want to sleep,” Junhong tells him, and he’s grinning again, “Honest.”
Youngjae is prepared to counter with a witty retort, he swears, but Junhong’s fingers find his own, his thumb rubbing back and forth against his palm, and the words die in his throat. Despite the intimate gesture, Junhong seems pretty intent on looking away, so Youngjae decides to stare at the ceiling, even as he fills the intervals between Junhong’s fingers.
If Junhong notices the sudden silence, he doesn’t comment on it.
They stay that way for a long while, and Junhong is half asleep when Youngjae speaks.
“This is sappy,” he remarks dryly, “We’re so awkward.”
Junhong’s tired laugh sounds like a yawn, so Youngjae smiles and squeezes his hand.
-
He hates to admit it, but Junhong doesn’t fit in his clothes. Not in the least.
They’re (ever so slightly) bigger on the waist and (just a tiny bit) shorter on the height. And Youngjae doesn’t want to care, really, but Junhong looks so evidently uncomfortable that even he feels rather remorseful about it.
“How much money do you have?” he asks later in the morning after breakfast.
Junhong looks at him, impassive, before digging into his pocket and handing him his wallet. Youngjae’s rather impressed, to say the least. He doesn’t expect Junhong to have much at all, but his wallet does appear to be on the fat side. Maybe Junhong finally learned to develop some sense of responsibility. Whatever the reason, Youngjae’s pleased to know that all the years they spent hanging out with each other amounted to something.
He’s glad he wasn’t hasty enough to say the words out loud, though, because Junhong still is a stupid, scamming idiot.
The only reason why his wallet is so heavy is because he collects foreign coins, of all things, and as if that’s not bad enough, coins are the only thing he keeps. There isn’t a single banknote in sight.
Youngjae sighs. He doesn’t even know why he built his hopes up.
“Do you even have Korean money in there?”
“I do!” Junhong says, slightly offended at Youngjae’s (lack of) surprise.
“Really?” Youngjae looks at him, dubious, “How much?”
“… 5000 won?”
“Helpful.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re doing any better.”
Youngjae gives him a look. Junhong shrugs and shuts up.
It’s rather embarrassing to admit, but even after enrolling into university, Youngjae is still dependant on the parent-given monthly allowance as his only source of income. Most of his friends are taking up part time jobs left and right-Daehyun even mentioned an opening at his workplace if Youngjae is ever interested; the pay there is supposedly quite good-but since he’s never really felt a pressing need for extra cash, Youngjae doesn’t bother.
He sure can use some now, though. After splurging on a bundle of unnecessary R&B albums last week, the only thing he has left is his emergency money. And no matter what Junhong claims, the sight of him walking around looking like a total clown doesn’t amount to an emergency.
“Fine,” Junhong grumbles, tugging his cap-probably the only thing Youngjae owns that fits him well-lower to cover his eyes. Moping, most likely. “Leave me to rot in your sorry excuse for clothes.”
“Don’t blame it on me. You’re the baby giant,” Youngjae accuses, hands crossed against his chest, “And you didn’t even think about getting new clothes until I mentioned it! This is what I get for being nice.”
“Nice? If you hadn’t brought it up, I wouldn’t have hoped. So yeah, this is all completely your fault.”
Brat. Junhong is such a brat. Youngjae doesn’t know why he tries.
At times like these, having a dependable older brother figure is a lifesaver.
“You need money for what?”
“I told you, it’s for Junhong,” Youngjae explains into the mouth of the receiver, “The kid’s a freaking mutant. If he grows some more he won’t even be able to walk through doors without crouching.”
On the other end of the line, he hears Yongguk sigh.
There are a million ways in which Youngjae knows Yongguk, and nearly all of them involve Junhong in one manner or another. Yongguk is Junhong’s childhood friend, for example. He’s also Junhong’s self-appointed caretaker, his rapping partner, his ‘older brother’, his confidante… The kid practically idolises the guy, and for good reason. Yongguk is one of the most reliable guys around.
(Now that he thinks about it, Junhong probably would have been way better off seeking shelter under Yongguk than running off to him.)
“Junhong’s with you?” Yongguk asks. He sounds both relieved and tired all at the same time.
“Yeah. Popped out of nowhere.”
“Can you tell him to check his phone? What’s the point of having one if he doesn’t use it?”
“Give me a second,” Youngjae covers the receiver with the palm of his hand before turning his attention to Junhong sitting on the living room couch, eyes completely focused on the soccer match showing on television. “Yongguk-hyung wants to know what happened to your phone.”
“Out of battery,” Junhong replies easily.
“Charge it, you idiot.”
“Yeah sure, later. Don’t think I brought the charger though.”
Youngjae goes back to the phone.
“Just assume his phone is permanently off. That’s what I do.” Another sigh. Youngjae hesitates. “Did anyone contact you?”
“His mom cried her eyes out while on the phone with me, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“A fight?”
Yongguk doesn’t answer straight away. The silence is oddly disconcerting.
“You should talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to talk.”
“Did you try asking?”
“Not directly.”
“Maybe you should.”
As if on reflex, Youngjae turns to gaze at Junhong, who in turn peers at him curiously. He smiles and shakes his head. Junhong frowns, confused, but doesn’t seem to think much of it as he looks at the television again.
Junhong is very much like him when it comes to this: neither of them are the type to pry.
“Maybe.”
Maybe not.
-
The amount of money Yongguk transfers to Youngjae’s account several minutes later is enough to keep Junhong fed for a few months-a year even, if Junhong decides to be particular about his spending habits.
Junhong feels bothered enough to snatch Youngjae’s phone away and use it to call the man again. Youngjae doesn’t particularly care, too busy staring at his online account balance in disbelief.
“I don’t need it, hyung,” he hears Junhong saying from behind the door. (What’s the use of retreating to the toilet for a ‘private’ conversation anyway when the walls aren’t even soundproof?)
Whatever Yongguk’s reply was, it obviously wasn’t satisfying enough because Junhong comes back with an expression darker than the one he wore before, mouth clamped shut and brows furrowed.
“Keep it,” Junhong tells him when he asks how much cash the younger wants to keep on hand, “Give it back or whatever. I don’t care.”
Youngjae is as curious as hell, but at the rate Junhong’s mood is falling he’ll probably have a better time prying answers out of Yongguk. (And that’s saying a lot, because Yongguk has always been an advocate of privacy and effective communication. Definitely not the type that would easily spill.)
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re at least taking some for your clothes,” Youngjae retorts lightly, “That was the whole point of the call.”
Junhong doesn’t look like he’s all too keen on the idea, but he says nothing as Youngjae drags him from the house all the way to Seoul’s busy shopping districts.
They spend more time bickering over what to buy than doing the actual buying, but four walk ins and a thousand arguments later they’re armed with two shopping bags and two subway tickets back home. Junhong is more or less back to normal now-or at least that’s what Youngjae presumes when the younger seemingly has no qualms over using Yongguk’s money to fund for their outrageous lunch bill.
He probably thinks that spending recklessly out of spite is a good form of revenge. It's overwhelmingly childish, but Youngjae isn't about to say anything, especially not when he's benefiting from the whole scenario.
Junhong stops by a convenience store on their way back home from the station and comes back out with several packets of instant noodles.
”Where’d you get the money?” Youngjae asks, because he’s the one holding to all the cash and Junhong definitely didn’t ask him for any.
The younger boy blinks.
“I still have some on me, remember?”
Oh. The 5000 won.
Youngjae pulls a face.
“You’re leeching off my mom’s cooking and you’re still buying that?”
Junhong looks at the bag in his hand and shrugs.
Once they’re back and Junhong is in the shower, though, Youngjae finds the packets of ramyeon again on his study table, neatly tied together with a piece of fancy red ribbon this time, with a card that says in Junhong’s messy handwriting: Happy belated Christmas, hyung.
(And Happy New Year too is added in a hurried scribble, like a delayed afterthought.)
Youngjae can’t decide whether he should laugh or be insulted, so instead he leaves the wrapped up R&B albums on the bed and writes back (on a piece of used paper that he used to doodle the molecular structure of water): Happy belated Christmas to you too. And I wouldn’t have spent so much on you if I knew you were going to give me something cheap, idiot.
Junhong comes back, notices the gift, rips it open but says absolutely nothing, so Youngjae doesn’t either.
Still, later that night, as Youngjae is slurping through his midnight snack while doing some studying, Junhong turns to him and asks, “Do you have a CD player?”
Youngjae hands it over wordlessly, and Junhong ends up listening to the tracks until his eyes finally droops closed and Youngjae has to go and turn the player off for him.
-
“Is Junhong there?” is what Daehyun greets him with before he can even attempt to muster a ‘hello’, and Youngjae contemplates cutting him off just to prove a point.
“Yeah, nice to hear from you too.”
Daehyun’s cheerful voice fills his ears as the other boy laughs. Youngjae hates to admit it, but Daehyun is unfortunately his annoying best friend and it’s ridiculously hard not to miss the boy’s steady presence when he’s not around.
They were roommates back in their first year of uni; would have continued being apartment mates too if it weren’t for the fact that Daehyun values comfort above all other conveniences and, being an early riser, doesn’t mind the fact that the space he’s renting is nearly an hour away from school. Youngjae, unfortunately, wasn't born with the gift of being a morning positivist, so after rejecting Daehyun's offer for a 'continued companionship', he finds a private room in campus. It's way smaller than the space a rented apartment would have provided him with, but at least he makes it to all the lectures.
Last he heard, Daehyun is still searching for Youngjae's replacement. Youngjae isn't surprised: no sane person would be willing to commute that far every single day.
But the two of them still hang out a lot, and Daehyun crashes his place more often than he should when deadlines are nearing because he’s just an irresponsible bastard that way.
“Hello!” Daehyun hollers. Youngjae pulls the receiver away from his ear and cringes. “So, is he there?”
“I’m not his keeper,” Youngjae grumbles under his breath, but it’s apparently loud enough for Daehyun to hear, because the other boy laughs again.
“Say whatever you want, but you’re practically the only method of reaching him right now.”
“Because he’s stupid enough to leave his charger at home,” Youngjae jabs, but his tone lacks bite. “How’d you find out he’s here anyway?”
“Himchan-hyung.”
“Ah.”
Of course. Himchan, that one naggy friend that everyone has who also happens to be the person that Yongguk, for whatever reason, trusts with all his problems. Himchan’s not a blabbermouth-not in the general sense-but he does have a tendency to try and ‘fix’ things, and his attempts of making everything better includes enlisting other people to help… which in this case means Daehyun.
And that’s what Junhong’s status seems to have elevated to: a problem. There’s no other way of explaining the two hour nagging session Himchan had greeted Junhong with this morning. Courtesy of Youngjae’s phone, no less.
Not that it seemed to work on Junhong in any way. Junhong, who had yawned and half slept though the entire session until Himchan’s high-pitched shriek finally jolted him out of his slumber.
(Youngjae’s only glad that Himchan’s the one who’s footing the bill.)
Youngjae makes a small sound under his breath to get Junhong’s attention before flinging the phone towards him. Junhong catches the device, looks at the caller ID, then pulls a face. Youngjae understands. He loves their circle of friends to death, but being told off by all of them one after another in rapid succession can’t be a very pleasant experience.
He doubts that’s what Daehyun’s going to do, though. The guy barely has grips on his own life (if the mountainloads of assignments and the multitudes of missed meals mean anything), let alone Junhong’s.
And true enough, Junhong is off the phone five minutes later after a bunch of yeahs and okays. He looks no different than he did before taking the call.
“What did he say?” Youngjae asks, because he can’t help but be a little curious.
“Daehyun-hyung? He told me to go home.”
Youngjae blinks, unable to believe what he’s hearing.
“Daehyun lectured you?”
“Yes. No. Not really,” Junhong fumbles around, flustered. “He did. In his own way, I guess. But it was just a sentence or two. Said Himchan-hyung had probably talked on behalf of everyone already. He mostly just said nonsense. It doesn’t really matter.”
Youngjae’s eyes find Junhong’s, and the latter quickly looks away, opting to stare at the floor. Youngjae sighs.
“You’d tell me if it’s important?”
Junhong relaxes, his lips breaking into a small, hesitant grin.
“Don’t I always?”
It’s meant to be assuring, but the sentence is anything but.
Because no, he doesn’t. Junhong never really tells him anything at all.
-
The thing about them is that there was no sudden moment of realisation or even the mildest hint of attraction. They just… happened, one way or another, which is rather funny because when they first met Youngjae remembers them not getting along.
Not getting along isn’t the best way to describe it: they were just downright oblivious towards each other. Junhong was nothing more than Yongguk’s kid friend who happened to visit every now and then during the latter's song-writing tutoring sessions, while Youngjae is just that one geeky guy who’s way too passionate about atoms and molecules, but oddly takes music as a sub-unit.
The one time Youngjae remembers acknowledging the kid is when Yongguk reveals that Junhong is from Mokpo, and is staying at the dorms of one of the most prestigious music school in Seoul under a scholarship.
Kid must be a genius, he thought, And pretty darn resilient.
Because he knows how nasty the competition can get in the school, knows because he might have considered attending it before at one point in his life before realising that he can only really devote his life wholeheartedly to one of his interests and gave it all up.
But that was the extent of the ‘interaction’ he had with Junhong, if it can even be called that. They still saw each other sometimes whenever Youngjae went over to Yongguk’s, but they had never really exchanged anything beyond a few polite nods.
Then one day, after being left in the room with Junhong for an extended period of time and somehow still managing to go through the whole ordeal without a single word leaving his mouth, Himchan stared at the two of them long and hard and announced:
“You two are so damn awkward with each other.”
Which would have meant nothing on its own, but then Daehyun suddenly started cackling and Jongup, Junhong’s friend from school, smiled that small knowing smile of his. Even Yongguk couldn’t stop the amusement from crossing his face as he grinned, gums and all.
Junhong, at least, seemed as shocked as Youngjae was. They exchanged glances that meant something along the lines of are we, really? because honestly, neither of them had ever really thought about it.
“Have you ever even spoken to each other?” Himchan asked again, tone accusing, “Directly.”
No, he realized, and from the look of Junhong’s face he knew the kid only just noticed it too.
“See?” Himchan says, clearly disapproving. Daehyun’s laughter turned more manic.
The conversation ended with Youngjae declaring that he’d no longer help Daehyun with his last minute preparations for… well, pretty much everything, causing the other boy to choke on his own spit.
Youngjae tried harder from then on, though. Partly because he’s the older one and thus should rightfully be the one taking the initiative, but mostly due to the fact that he was finding himself stuck with Junhong alone in Yongguk’s place more and more often, and he had a strong feeling that it had everything to do with Himchan.
It was, for a lack of better word, awkward.
“Yongguk-hyung talks a lot about you. Says you’re doing really well in what you do,” Youngjae mentioned offhandedly, when it became apparent that their four very dear friends’ ‘quick’ trip to convenience store was going to take a long while, “Do you sing?”
“No, not really,” Junhong replied, eyes downcast. It almost seemed like he was speaking to the floor. “I rap. And dance a little. Jongup-hyung sings.”
“Oh.”
Youngjae doesn’t much care for rapping, and he might have danced a little back in high school for fun but it’s definitely not something he’d do as a pastime. He was pretty fond of singing-still is, if all those concerts he had in the shower count, though admittedly what had once been a pretty serious hobby is now nothing more than the occasional guilty pleasures dosed with whips of nostalgia.
Of course, the only thing he can talk about without potentially straying off to the Land of Gibberish ended up to be the one aspect of music that Junhong was (relatively) disinterested in. Vocals are important, sure, but it wasn't something Junhong was in charge of. (Nor did he want to be, if the stricken expression Youngjae received when he asked about it was of any indication.)
Honestly, God must think his irony-filled life is one big fat joke.
Still, he didn’t think he would have fared much better even if they did have similar interests, because Junhong had a habit off steering the subject away from himself. Yongguk-hyung raps too, he’d say, or Jongup-hyung is a much better dancer and Daehyun-hyung’s beat boxing isn’t half bad.
“What about you?” Youngjae asked. It was funny how nothing ever seemed to be about the boy.
Junhong brought his cap low enough to cover his eyes. Youngjae later discovered that it’s something he always does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable.
“I’m okay.”
And that was that.
They somehow ended up exchanging CDs after, creating a topic of interest where there was none before. Junhong wasn’t so bad if you carefully direct him to talk about his musical inspirations. He also was far more talkative if Youngjae treated him to food.
But nothing really started until Youngjae casually mentioned, several weeks later, that Junhong was welcomed to crash at his and Daehyun’s place whenever he decided not to go back home for the weekends or the short holidays.
“The train fare to Mokpo is pretty expensive, right? Just drag your ass over to ours.”
They weren’t that close just yet, but apparently close enough for Junhong to look at him teasingly and joke, “So you can’t get a girl and now you’re inviting me over?”
The good old days when Junhong would at least attempt to be cute when hurling him with insults.
“Haha,” Youngjae deadpanned. “This is me being nice.”
Junhong shrugged, but appeared later that weekend anyways.
Something must have happened in between. Youngjae wasn’t the type to invite people he wasn’t comfortable with, and even if he could perhaps take a step back and blame the invitation on study-related stress-info overload can sometimes cause people to act mildly drunk, as Youngjae has experienced firsthand with Daehyun-Junhong at least wouldn’t ever dream of inviting himself unannounced to a place of someone he doesn’t think of as a friend.
And, well, if they weren’t at least friends, they probably wouldn’t have ended up on the couch in the living room, the television turned on and ignored, their lips an inch apart from each other’s, excited, flustered and confused all at the same time.
Youngjae would have said something practical like you’re only sixteen, Junhong, we should stop instead of ending up a fumbling mess, scrambling at words that wouldn’t come and heart pounding so loudly he could barely hear anything else.
(But he still could, of course. Stupid things like the hitch of his own breath, or Junhong’s shaky exhale.)
And Junhong wouldn’t have smiled-looking more confident than Youngjae, for once, even when neither of them knew what the hell they were supposed to do-wouldn’t have told him it’s okay, hyung, wouldn’t have pulled him down to link their lips together.
Something must have happened, but for the life of him Youngjae can’t remember what.
-
On the night after Daehyun’s call, Junhong decides to go home.
“Now?” Youngjae asks, maybe just a little bit stunned.
Running away from home also means the absence of packing, and Junhong only needs to toss the things he bought in a single plastic bag for him to be ready. He pauses, though, fingers tracing the outline of the bag, and the hesitance he shows brushes off the guilt that Youngjae would get from holding him back.
“You don’t have to,” is what he tells him, the closest thing to stay he can ever get without directly shirking his responsibilities as an older brother figure and therefore not encouraging any attempts towards reconciliation, “Maybe wait until you’re a bit more comfortable with the idea?”
People often forget, because Youngjae is not the baby of the group and he definitely doesn’t go out of his way to act like one. But the truth is, though Youngjae might constantly remind Junhong that he’s a hyung to assert some form of authority over the latter, he’s only just two years older. And experience-wise, that’s not a lot at all. He acts on his whims more than he quashes them, chooses to think of the aftermath only when it’s staring at him right in the face: things foolish youngsters do, the thing that Junhong is probably doing to his parents.
Junhong looks up to face him and smiles.
“You shouldn’t be saying that,” he chides, and Youngjae hates him for it. He’s not sure whether it’s because Junhong can be sharp when he least expects him to be, or just the fact that Junhong can always see right through him.
He doesn’t know how to tell Junhong that he apparently likes him enough to not want him to leave either, not without the whole speech descending into something cringeworthy. So Youngjae kisses him instead-the first time he does after Junhong appears at his door; or rather, the first time he does in a long while-except it’s not nearly as romantic as it sounds. Slamming one’s lips against another’s might sound exciting in fiction, but in real life Youngjae only succeeds in uncomfortably knocking their teeth together. The grunt that escapes Junhong when his back hits the door with a loud bang can’t be described to be anything other than pained, and contrary to popular belief it’s not easy to multitask when you’re all over each other, something that Youngjae finds out as Junhong softly pushes him away for a few seconds in favour of locking the door.
They’re an endless bundle of awkward, but that’s nothing new. And he gets the message across, at the very least.
They tend to end up this way at the most unlikely of places-the living room of his and Daehyun’s shared apartment, for instance, or if he wants the best example of horribly executed cliches, his parents are probably downstairs right now-but it’s never been about the thrill. Junhong is everything he appears to be during their first meeting two years back: shy, soft, and tender. He prefers light touches more than grips of passion, the slow stroking of his hair more than the tugging. His moves are calm and measured, his eyes stay open for as long they can-like he’s taking in the moments and relishing every single one-and he smiles smiles smiles in a way that makes Youngjae’s chest clench.
“Sorry,” he whispers, loud enough for Junhong to hear.
He's tempted to offer excuses, but blaming it all on his assignments and how he’s just so busy lately seems cheap somehow. He skims helplessly through his brain for another liable explanation, grasping at empty words with his brows furrowed, but the tightened grip around his wrist halts him in the process. Junhong's eyes are locked on his as the younger shakes his head and shrugs: he's never needed an explanation before, he definitely isn't going to start now.
There's that feeling again, like his heartstrings are being tugged and he's falling a little too hard. Youngjae quells it, quickly presses another kiss onto Junhong's welcoming lips and holds him deep into the night, lulled by nothing but the sound of their breathing. It feels like hours before they speak again, but when they do Youngjae's words are hushed, almost as if he's afraid of breaking something profound, and Junhong lets out a soft, amused chuckle that earns him a painful slap on his arm.
“How's school?” Junhong asks, eyes bright and curious, like he hasn't just spent the last two months at the bottom of Youngjae's priorities.
“Like hell, but I'm surviving.” Youngjae tries not to think, because any topic even briefly connected to the idea of his studies always brings him back to the assignment that he's left untouched for days-something that he promised Daehyun would remain untouched, at least until he's finished healing his abused eyes and rids off the hideous bags forming under them. “What about you?”
Junhong has these things... Periodic Check Ups, Youngjae thinks they're called, but it's really just another name for surprise evaluations. They usually consist of people dropping by the school and giving a mandatory lecture or two, but sometimes there are special dates and events; mini-concerts where sponsors would all attend in droves to check on the results of their investments.
He remembers Junhong whining about it a year back, when extra practice sessions led to him being stuck in the dorms for the weekend. Juniors didn't actually need to put in that much effort, but it was also Jongup's graduation performance and Junhong had volunteered to help out as his dance partner to ensure that everything ran smoothly. It was a nice gesture, honestly, but it didn't stop Youngjae from spending the whole night annoying Junhong by texting wishes of mock grief for the younger boy's plight. The joy ended up being short-lived, because Himchan turned up a day later and demanded that everyone be with their two dongsaengs throughout practice as a show of moral support, which led to them holding up embarrassing homemade banners for a beaming Jongup and a flustered Junhong in the morning and squeezing into the two's unfortunately small shared bedroom at night.
With Junhong's graduation right around the corner, these things become major. One strong performance and a few sweet words from the instructor could mean that he's well on his way to being signed on to a major company. Youngjae's not entirely sure how the whole process works, but if Yongguk's praises are anything to go by, Junhong is a crowd favorite, and there will definitely be a lot of eyes on him during his end of term act.
Youngjae doesn't know how he manages, because if it was him he'd definitely have cracked under all the pressure by now. But this is Junhong they're talking about and the kid is a lot tougher than he looks, so he just shrugs lightly and says, “Everything's fine.”
The answer is expected, but Youngjae pokes anyway, searching for cracks in Junhong's armor of self confidence. “Are you scared?”
Junhong blinks before his eyes dart off to find Youngjae's, and he stares for so long that Youngjae actually begins to suspect that he's going to break down. He doesn't though, only responds with another shrug and a curious smile.
“A little, I guess,” he answers honestly, “But there are scarier things.”
Youngjae would ask, but Junhong pulls him in before he could.
-
As it turns out, Youngjae's sudden dose of affection only manages to hold Junhong back for another night. The next morning finds Junhong packing again, and Youngjae watches as the former steals one of his many backpacks and stuffs his things in. They don't talk about it until late in the afternoon when Junhong gently puts a hand on Youngjae's shoulder while one of his textbooks threatens to curse him to sleep, and Youngjae looks up and sees Junhong signaling to the door.
“I should leave,” Junhong begins, “Before it gets too late.”
“Oh,” is all Youngjae can respond with before he stands up and walks him to the front door.
Junhong apparently doesn't know what to do with himself either, because he loiters uselessly outside the door, looking torn between wordlessly walking away or offering some lame words of parting. It doesn't usually work that way when there's school, because both him and Youngjae have classes in the morning and they'll be too busy trying to make it to class on time to really bother with each other. “Um.” He tries lamely.
“Here.” Youngjae slips something into his pocket, cutting him off in his speech before he can start babbling. Junhong fingers the notes, frowning at first in confusion, then in annoyance.
“I don't-”
“It's not Yongguk-hyung's.” Youngjae assures, though he purposely avoids mentioning that he sneaked those into one of the bag's compartments when Junhong isn't looking. If Junhong is unhappy about it, he can take it to the man himself. “It's mine.”
The frown doesn't ease. “But you don't have-”
“Emergency money. I have emergency money,” Youngjae reminds him. “I don't know about you, but sending a kid off knowing that he doesn't have enough cash to make it home sounds like an emergency to me.”
“You don't have to, hyung.” Junhong doesn't act annoyed at being referred to as a kid like Youngjae expects him to, seemingly more concerned over the notes he's gripping in his hand. But he seems to know better than to try and return it, much to Youngjae's pleasure. “Thanks.” He breathes, biting his bottom lip hesitantly.
“Go home and fix whatever it is that needs fixing.” Youngjae says, scratches the back of his head. He doesn't have any qualms about giving advice, but not when he's not privy to all sides of an argument. “I'm not sure what happened, but apologize to your parents, okay? I get that they're not the most agreeable people to have around most of the time--” He peers behind him cautiously as the words leave his mouth, making sure that his mom is not around to eavesdrop. “-but they usually mean well, and keeping yourself in their good graces make things a whole lot easier.”
Junhong smiles gratefully, and Youngjae's glad someone is thankful because he has no idea what he's saying.
“And-”
Youngjae shouldn't, he really shouldn't. It'll make things harder on him, it'll make things harder on Junhong, and as if those aren't bad enough he'll also completely ruin any effect his (not so) wise advice procured. But he says it anyway. Youngjae might pride himself on being a rational-minded person, but even he has to admit that he's never actually been good at relying on reason when it comes to Junhong.
“If you change your mind or if things don't work out, you can always come back.”
Junhong's smile widens ever so slowly, but he still shakes his head. “Tomorrow's New Year's Eve. I wouldn't want to intrude on your family time.”
And Youngjae thinks of all the times he spends the holidays in the library, drowned in the mountains of book he's stuck on reading for research, thinks of all the times Junhong sits beside him without a word of complaint even when Youngjae knows he's being too much of a workaholic, thinks of the moments where Junhong cancels a rare trip home because Youngjae's exams are approaching and he really doesn't want to go back even if that means the campus will be empty because he just can't concentrate as well at home.
Youngjae can't help it. He snorts. “Junhong, please. We spent weeks stuck with each other's company before and I didn't kick you out. What makes you think I'm going to start now?”
You're family enough, aren't you? is what he doesn't say, but it doesn't matter because it's what both of them hears. Junhong looks away so quickly that if Youngjae doesn't know any better, he'll think that the younger boy disagrees. He doesn't though. It's something that Junhong hates to admit, but Youngjae knows that he tears up pretty easily in these sorts of situations.
“Charge your stupid phone.” Youngjae says. A reprieve, more likely; he doesn't think Junhong wants to talk. He still has his pride, after all.
Junhong makes a sound to show that he hears. He still has his face turned away. It makes Youngjae smile.
-
It's frustrating how Junhong seems so intent on keeping his phone dead.
Youngjae tosses the device to the bed and hangs up a new calendar on his wall.
>>
Pairing: youngjae/zelo
Rating: PG-13
Genre: slice of life
Length: ~14,000 words
Summary: they're in love but they aren't friends, and maybe that's the problem.
part one | part two
Junhong appears on his doorstep two days after Christmas, armed with nothing more than the clothes he’s wearing, a cap and probably a wallet somewhere in his pocket. Youngjae isn’t completely surprised. Junhong is a sweet kid, sure, but being nice doesn’t mean that he’s beyond running away from home.
This is all some kind of phase; a teenage rebellion thing. Junhong probably just wants an adventure or whatever. Youngjae isn’t the type to pry.
So he pauses instead, stares in disbelief for about half a second because that’s probably what he’s supposed to do, then just shrugs and opens the door wider, giving enough room for the younger boy to slip inside.
“Hyung,” Junhong says casually, like he didn’t just appear out of thin air, “Hi.”
Youngjae raises an eyebrow. Junhong grins, for some odd reason, like he was expecting the reaction.
“Should I ask, or will I just be wasting my breath?” is what he says finally, when it becomes evident that the other boy isn’t going to offer an explanation.
Junhong shrugs. It’s not really an answer, but he knows him well enough to take it as a no. He doesn’t push.
Junhong peers behind Youngjae’s back, head slightly tilted.
“Yeah, mom’s there. Cooking dinner,” he explains, unprompted, “Stay for the meal. I bet she’ll be delighted. She’s been saying we don’t appreciate her cooking enough.”
The discomfort that crosses the younger boy’s features is too evident to be missed-and that’s just confusing, really, because what did Junhong come all the way here for anyway if he wasn’t planning to stay?
“I can’t-”
“You can,” he cuts him off, because he’s really not in the mood for pointless arguments, “There’s more than enough for everyone. Don’t worry about it.”
Junhong blinks, something he always does when he’s nervous, but nods anyway. It’s a slow gesture, hesitant, but it’s there and Youngjae’s just happy that he even gets a response.
He tells his mom about their surprise guest a few minutes later, and though she definitely isn’t expecting it, she’s more than pleased at the thought of having more company. It gets worse when he informs her that Junhong is still in high school (final year, Junhong hastily adds, as if it makes a whole lot of difference), and she practically coos over him.
“Are you staying the night?” she asks, eyes bright, and Youngjae can almost imagine her stuffing Junhong half to death with desserts.
Junhong opens his mouth, denial at the very tip of his tongue, but Youngjae answers for him.
“Yeah, he is.”
He pointedly ignores the helpless looks Junhong shoots his way.
His mom is so delighted she ends up pinching Junhong’s cheeks-much to the boy’s chagrin and Youngjae’s amusement-and she leaves the two with a promise that she’ll cook something extra special.
“She loves you already,” Youngjae notes somewhat bitterly, and Junhong laughs.
They end up waiting in his bedroom, with him sprawled out on the bed and Junhong looking through the pile of junk on his desk curiously. It’s not until a little later, when Junhong self-declares that he’s entitled to rummage through Youngjae’s drawers, that he realizes it’s Junhong’s first time in his house. He wonders if he should make some sort of effort; be a good host and all that nonsense. But then Junhong decides to manically laugh at his horrible choice of underwear, so Youngjae just stops trying.
(In his defense, he only bought those floral-patterned briefs because his mom wouldn’t shut up about it.)
“If you don’t stop laughing, I swear I’ll force you to wear those tomorrow.”
Junhong gulps down a laugh. Youngjae nods, satisfied.
Then:
“I didn’t bring anything over.”
Youngjae stares at him like he thinks he’s stupid.
“I’m not blind, thank you very much.” Junhong frowns. Not for the first time, Youngjae discovers that the other boy is much dimmer than he gives him credit for. And to think that he actually thought that there’s a limit to stupidity. “The clothes might be a tight fit, but that’s your own fault for failing to stop your growth spurt.”
Junhong smiles then, but says nothing.
Youngjae thinks he hears a thank you anyways.
-
They fought over the bed using rock paper scissors and unsurprisingly, Youngjae and his rotten luck leads him to spend the night on a mattress laid out on his own bedroom floor.
It’s way past midnight. Neither of them are asleep. Junhong is lying on the bed, mindlessly flipping through one of Youngjae’s biology textbooks. Youngjae isn’t sure what he’s planning to achieve (the boy’s not even into science), but he doesn’t wreck his head thinking about it. Junhong has always been kind of odd.
Or maybe he’s just treating it as a bedtime story, in which case Youngjae has to wonder why he isn’t asleep already.
“Remember to turn the lights off after you’re done doing whatever you’re doing.”
A slight pause, then the book is closed shut as Junhong sets it aside.
“You can turn off the lights now, if you want.”
Youngjae frowns.
“You do it. You’re the reason it’s still on.”
“Don’t be a brat, hyung, you’re closer to the switch,” Junhong points out, and even though it’s true Youngjae feels like smacking his head anyways, “And besides, if I get out from the bed I’ll probably step on you.”
It’s another way of saying that his room is pitifully small. That’s another true fact, sadly, but he doesn’t appreciate the comment being given by a freeloader. He throws a pillow at Junhong’s face before going off to flip the switch, not bothering to check if it hits. The surprised yelp is a pretty good hint though, so he’s pretty much satisfied.
“Goodnight,” he hears Junhong say, and he makes a small sound from the back of his throat in reply.
Twenty minutes later, Youngjae’s still awake and he blames it all on the floor. The mattress helps, of course-it more or less lessens the discomfort-but it isn’t very thick and there’s still this sense of something hard lodged between his backbones. He tosses and turns to try to find a position that’ll give the least pain, but the only thing he manages to end up with is a choice between sacrificing his back or his hips, neither of which he’s particularly fond of.
He groans, frustrated, and that’s when Junhong flops down beside him.
“What on earth are you doing?” he says as the boy creeps under his blanket, making himself comfortable.
“Trying to sleep?” Junhong replies, and he hates how Junhong makes it sound like he just asked something completely ridiculous.
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
If it isn’t for the fact that it’s much too dark for him to see anything, much less Junhong’s head, he would have given him an incredulous stare. Not that it would make a lot of difference, because Junhong would just stare back blankly anyways.
“If you’re not going to utilise the bed, I’ll help myself.”
Youngjae sits up, thanking the stars for creating Junhong as a child who’s apparently weird enough to give comfort for god knows what, before a hand grabs his and tugs down hard enough that he’s sent toppling back to where he started.
There’s a pause as Youngjae blinks, dazed. As soon as he comes back to his senses, though, he clutches the pillow underneath his palm and sends it flying in the other boy’s direction. He sees it hit this time, but it doesn’t count because Junhong has a blanket wrapped around himself, creating a protective layer.
It doesn’t stop Youngjae from grabbing another pillow and whacking him. Repeatedly.
“You-” he fumes, scrambling for the blanket to try to get it off, “-are such a brat.”
“Ow!” the boy cries out, “Stop it, hyung, this is child abuse!”
He doesn’t know how long they spent wrapped up in their mini pillow fight before they finally collapse on the mattress in a messy heap, tired and out of breath. Junhong’s laughing, the idiot, but Youngjae has kind of lost the right to give him hell for it because he can’t quite stop his own lips from quirking upwards.
“Okay, really, what are you up to?” he asks again in between breaths, “And if you give me some cheesy answer like ‘I’m actually afraid of the dark’, I’ll throw you out of the house.”
Junhong frowns, trying to look annoyed. But this is Junhong he’s dealing with so it looks more like a pout. Youngjae tries not to laugh.
“I’m not a girl.”
“You’re acting like one.”
“I just want to sleep,” Junhong tells him, and he’s grinning again, “Honest.”
Youngjae is prepared to counter with a witty retort, he swears, but Junhong’s fingers find his own, his thumb rubbing back and forth against his palm, and the words die in his throat. Despite the intimate gesture, Junhong seems pretty intent on looking away, so Youngjae decides to stare at the ceiling, even as he fills the intervals between Junhong’s fingers.
If Junhong notices the sudden silence, he doesn’t comment on it.
They stay that way for a long while, and Junhong is half asleep when Youngjae speaks.
“This is sappy,” he remarks dryly, “We’re so awkward.”
Junhong’s tired laugh sounds like a yawn, so Youngjae smiles and squeezes his hand.
-
He hates to admit it, but Junhong doesn’t fit in his clothes. Not in the least.
They’re (ever so slightly) bigger on the waist and (just a tiny bit) shorter on the height. And Youngjae doesn’t want to care, really, but Junhong looks so evidently uncomfortable that even he feels rather remorseful about it.
“How much money do you have?” he asks later in the morning after breakfast.
Junhong looks at him, impassive, before digging into his pocket and handing him his wallet. Youngjae’s rather impressed, to say the least. He doesn’t expect Junhong to have much at all, but his wallet does appear to be on the fat side. Maybe Junhong finally learned to develop some sense of responsibility. Whatever the reason, Youngjae’s pleased to know that all the years they spent hanging out with each other amounted to something.
He’s glad he wasn’t hasty enough to say the words out loud, though, because Junhong still is a stupid, scamming idiot.
The only reason why his wallet is so heavy is because he collects foreign coins, of all things, and as if that’s not bad enough, coins are the only thing he keeps. There isn’t a single banknote in sight.
Youngjae sighs. He doesn’t even know why he built his hopes up.
“Do you even have Korean money in there?”
“I do!” Junhong says, slightly offended at Youngjae’s (lack of) surprise.
“Really?” Youngjae looks at him, dubious, “How much?”
“… 5000 won?”
“Helpful.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re doing any better.”
Youngjae gives him a look. Junhong shrugs and shuts up.
It’s rather embarrassing to admit, but even after enrolling into university, Youngjae is still dependant on the parent-given monthly allowance as his only source of income. Most of his friends are taking up part time jobs left and right-Daehyun even mentioned an opening at his workplace if Youngjae is ever interested; the pay there is supposedly quite good-but since he’s never really felt a pressing need for extra cash, Youngjae doesn’t bother.
He sure can use some now, though. After splurging on a bundle of unnecessary R&B albums last week, the only thing he has left is his emergency money. And no matter what Junhong claims, the sight of him walking around looking like a total clown doesn’t amount to an emergency.
“Fine,” Junhong grumbles, tugging his cap-probably the only thing Youngjae owns that fits him well-lower to cover his eyes. Moping, most likely. “Leave me to rot in your sorry excuse for clothes.”
“Don’t blame it on me. You’re the baby giant,” Youngjae accuses, hands crossed against his chest, “And you didn’t even think about getting new clothes until I mentioned it! This is what I get for being nice.”
“Nice? If you hadn’t brought it up, I wouldn’t have hoped. So yeah, this is all completely your fault.”
Brat. Junhong is such a brat. Youngjae doesn’t know why he tries.
At times like these, having a dependable older brother figure is a lifesaver.
“You need money for what?”
“I told you, it’s for Junhong,” Youngjae explains into the mouth of the receiver, “The kid’s a freaking mutant. If he grows some more he won’t even be able to walk through doors without crouching.”
On the other end of the line, he hears Yongguk sigh.
There are a million ways in which Youngjae knows Yongguk, and nearly all of them involve Junhong in one manner or another. Yongguk is Junhong’s childhood friend, for example. He’s also Junhong’s self-appointed caretaker, his rapping partner, his ‘older brother’, his confidante… The kid practically idolises the guy, and for good reason. Yongguk is one of the most reliable guys around.
(Now that he thinks about it, Junhong probably would have been way better off seeking shelter under Yongguk than running off to him.)
“Junhong’s with you?” Yongguk asks. He sounds both relieved and tired all at the same time.
“Yeah. Popped out of nowhere.”
“Can you tell him to check his phone? What’s the point of having one if he doesn’t use it?”
“Give me a second,” Youngjae covers the receiver with the palm of his hand before turning his attention to Junhong sitting on the living room couch, eyes completely focused on the soccer match showing on television. “Yongguk-hyung wants to know what happened to your phone.”
“Out of battery,” Junhong replies easily.
“Charge it, you idiot.”
“Yeah sure, later. Don’t think I brought the charger though.”
Youngjae goes back to the phone.
“Just assume his phone is permanently off. That’s what I do.” Another sigh. Youngjae hesitates. “Did anyone contact you?”
“His mom cried her eyes out while on the phone with me, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“A fight?”
Yongguk doesn’t answer straight away. The silence is oddly disconcerting.
“You should talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to talk.”
“Did you try asking?”
“Not directly.”
“Maybe you should.”
As if on reflex, Youngjae turns to gaze at Junhong, who in turn peers at him curiously. He smiles and shakes his head. Junhong frowns, confused, but doesn’t seem to think much of it as he looks at the television again.
Junhong is very much like him when it comes to this: neither of them are the type to pry.
“Maybe.”
Maybe not.
-
The amount of money Yongguk transfers to Youngjae’s account several minutes later is enough to keep Junhong fed for a few months-a year even, if Junhong decides to be particular about his spending habits.
Junhong feels bothered enough to snatch Youngjae’s phone away and use it to call the man again. Youngjae doesn’t particularly care, too busy staring at his online account balance in disbelief.
“I don’t need it, hyung,” he hears Junhong saying from behind the door. (What’s the use of retreating to the toilet for a ‘private’ conversation anyway when the walls aren’t even soundproof?)
Whatever Yongguk’s reply was, it obviously wasn’t satisfying enough because Junhong comes back with an expression darker than the one he wore before, mouth clamped shut and brows furrowed.
“Keep it,” Junhong tells him when he asks how much cash the younger wants to keep on hand, “Give it back or whatever. I don’t care.”
Youngjae is as curious as hell, but at the rate Junhong’s mood is falling he’ll probably have a better time prying answers out of Yongguk. (And that’s saying a lot, because Yongguk has always been an advocate of privacy and effective communication. Definitely not the type that would easily spill.)
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re at least taking some for your clothes,” Youngjae retorts lightly, “That was the whole point of the call.”
Junhong doesn’t look like he’s all too keen on the idea, but he says nothing as Youngjae drags him from the house all the way to Seoul’s busy shopping districts.
They spend more time bickering over what to buy than doing the actual buying, but four walk ins and a thousand arguments later they’re armed with two shopping bags and two subway tickets back home. Junhong is more or less back to normal now-or at least that’s what Youngjae presumes when the younger seemingly has no qualms over using Yongguk’s money to fund for their outrageous lunch bill.
He probably thinks that spending recklessly out of spite is a good form of revenge. It's overwhelmingly childish, but Youngjae isn't about to say anything, especially not when he's benefiting from the whole scenario.
Junhong stops by a convenience store on their way back home from the station and comes back out with several packets of instant noodles.
”Where’d you get the money?” Youngjae asks, because he’s the one holding to all the cash and Junhong definitely didn’t ask him for any.
The younger boy blinks.
“I still have some on me, remember?”
Oh. The 5000 won.
Youngjae pulls a face.
“You’re leeching off my mom’s cooking and you’re still buying that?”
Junhong looks at the bag in his hand and shrugs.
Once they’re back and Junhong is in the shower, though, Youngjae finds the packets of ramyeon again on his study table, neatly tied together with a piece of fancy red ribbon this time, with a card that says in Junhong’s messy handwriting: Happy belated Christmas, hyung.
(And Happy New Year too is added in a hurried scribble, like a delayed afterthought.)
Youngjae can’t decide whether he should laugh or be insulted, so instead he leaves the wrapped up R&B albums on the bed and writes back (on a piece of used paper that he used to doodle the molecular structure of water): Happy belated Christmas to you too. And I wouldn’t have spent so much on you if I knew you were going to give me something cheap, idiot.
Junhong comes back, notices the gift, rips it open but says absolutely nothing, so Youngjae doesn’t either.
Still, later that night, as Youngjae is slurping through his midnight snack while doing some studying, Junhong turns to him and asks, “Do you have a CD player?”
Youngjae hands it over wordlessly, and Junhong ends up listening to the tracks until his eyes finally droops closed and Youngjae has to go and turn the player off for him.
-
“Is Junhong there?” is what Daehyun greets him with before he can even attempt to muster a ‘hello’, and Youngjae contemplates cutting him off just to prove a point.
“Yeah, nice to hear from you too.”
Daehyun’s cheerful voice fills his ears as the other boy laughs. Youngjae hates to admit it, but Daehyun is unfortunately his annoying best friend and it’s ridiculously hard not to miss the boy’s steady presence when he’s not around.
They were roommates back in their first year of uni; would have continued being apartment mates too if it weren’t for the fact that Daehyun values comfort above all other conveniences and, being an early riser, doesn’t mind the fact that the space he’s renting is nearly an hour away from school. Youngjae, unfortunately, wasn't born with the gift of being a morning positivist, so after rejecting Daehyun's offer for a 'continued companionship', he finds a private room in campus. It's way smaller than the space a rented apartment would have provided him with, but at least he makes it to all the lectures.
Last he heard, Daehyun is still searching for Youngjae's replacement. Youngjae isn't surprised: no sane person would be willing to commute that far every single day.
But the two of them still hang out a lot, and Daehyun crashes his place more often than he should when deadlines are nearing because he’s just an irresponsible bastard that way.
“Hello!” Daehyun hollers. Youngjae pulls the receiver away from his ear and cringes. “So, is he there?”
“I’m not his keeper,” Youngjae grumbles under his breath, but it’s apparently loud enough for Daehyun to hear, because the other boy laughs again.
“Say whatever you want, but you’re practically the only method of reaching him right now.”
“Because he’s stupid enough to leave his charger at home,” Youngjae jabs, but his tone lacks bite. “How’d you find out he’s here anyway?”
“Himchan-hyung.”
“Ah.”
Of course. Himchan, that one naggy friend that everyone has who also happens to be the person that Yongguk, for whatever reason, trusts with all his problems. Himchan’s not a blabbermouth-not in the general sense-but he does have a tendency to try and ‘fix’ things, and his attempts of making everything better includes enlisting other people to help… which in this case means Daehyun.
And that’s what Junhong’s status seems to have elevated to: a problem. There’s no other way of explaining the two hour nagging session Himchan had greeted Junhong with this morning. Courtesy of Youngjae’s phone, no less.
Not that it seemed to work on Junhong in any way. Junhong, who had yawned and half slept though the entire session until Himchan’s high-pitched shriek finally jolted him out of his slumber.
(Youngjae’s only glad that Himchan’s the one who’s footing the bill.)
Youngjae makes a small sound under his breath to get Junhong’s attention before flinging the phone towards him. Junhong catches the device, looks at the caller ID, then pulls a face. Youngjae understands. He loves their circle of friends to death, but being told off by all of them one after another in rapid succession can’t be a very pleasant experience.
He doubts that’s what Daehyun’s going to do, though. The guy barely has grips on his own life (if the mountainloads of assignments and the multitudes of missed meals mean anything), let alone Junhong’s.
And true enough, Junhong is off the phone five minutes later after a bunch of yeahs and okays. He looks no different than he did before taking the call.
“What did he say?” Youngjae asks, because he can’t help but be a little curious.
“Daehyun-hyung? He told me to go home.”
Youngjae blinks, unable to believe what he’s hearing.
“Daehyun lectured you?”
“Yes. No. Not really,” Junhong fumbles around, flustered. “He did. In his own way, I guess. But it was just a sentence or two. Said Himchan-hyung had probably talked on behalf of everyone already. He mostly just said nonsense. It doesn’t really matter.”
Youngjae’s eyes find Junhong’s, and the latter quickly looks away, opting to stare at the floor. Youngjae sighs.
“You’d tell me if it’s important?”
Junhong relaxes, his lips breaking into a small, hesitant grin.
“Don’t I always?”
It’s meant to be assuring, but the sentence is anything but.
Because no, he doesn’t. Junhong never really tells him anything at all.
-
The thing about them is that there was no sudden moment of realisation or even the mildest hint of attraction. They just… happened, one way or another, which is rather funny because when they first met Youngjae remembers them not getting along.
Not getting along isn’t the best way to describe it: they were just downright oblivious towards each other. Junhong was nothing more than Yongguk’s kid friend who happened to visit every now and then during the latter's song-writing tutoring sessions, while Youngjae is just that one geeky guy who’s way too passionate about atoms and molecules, but oddly takes music as a sub-unit.
The one time Youngjae remembers acknowledging the kid is when Yongguk reveals that Junhong is from Mokpo, and is staying at the dorms of one of the most prestigious music school in Seoul under a scholarship.
Kid must be a genius, he thought, And pretty darn resilient.
Because he knows how nasty the competition can get in the school, knows because he might have considered attending it before at one point in his life before realising that he can only really devote his life wholeheartedly to one of his interests and gave it all up.
But that was the extent of the ‘interaction’ he had with Junhong, if it can even be called that. They still saw each other sometimes whenever Youngjae went over to Yongguk’s, but they had never really exchanged anything beyond a few polite nods.
Then one day, after being left in the room with Junhong for an extended period of time and somehow still managing to go through the whole ordeal without a single word leaving his mouth, Himchan stared at the two of them long and hard and announced:
“You two are so damn awkward with each other.”
Which would have meant nothing on its own, but then Daehyun suddenly started cackling and Jongup, Junhong’s friend from school, smiled that small knowing smile of his. Even Yongguk couldn’t stop the amusement from crossing his face as he grinned, gums and all.
Junhong, at least, seemed as shocked as Youngjae was. They exchanged glances that meant something along the lines of are we, really? because honestly, neither of them had ever really thought about it.
“Have you ever even spoken to each other?” Himchan asked again, tone accusing, “Directly.”
No, he realized, and from the look of Junhong’s face he knew the kid only just noticed it too.
“See?” Himchan says, clearly disapproving. Daehyun’s laughter turned more manic.
The conversation ended with Youngjae declaring that he’d no longer help Daehyun with his last minute preparations for… well, pretty much everything, causing the other boy to choke on his own spit.
Youngjae tried harder from then on, though. Partly because he’s the older one and thus should rightfully be the one taking the initiative, but mostly due to the fact that he was finding himself stuck with Junhong alone in Yongguk’s place more and more often, and he had a strong feeling that it had everything to do with Himchan.
It was, for a lack of better word, awkward.
“Yongguk-hyung talks a lot about you. Says you’re doing really well in what you do,” Youngjae mentioned offhandedly, when it became apparent that their four very dear friends’ ‘quick’ trip to convenience store was going to take a long while, “Do you sing?”
“No, not really,” Junhong replied, eyes downcast. It almost seemed like he was speaking to the floor. “I rap. And dance a little. Jongup-hyung sings.”
“Oh.”
Youngjae doesn’t much care for rapping, and he might have danced a little back in high school for fun but it’s definitely not something he’d do as a pastime. He was pretty fond of singing-still is, if all those concerts he had in the shower count, though admittedly what had once been a pretty serious hobby is now nothing more than the occasional guilty pleasures dosed with whips of nostalgia.
Of course, the only thing he can talk about without potentially straying off to the Land of Gibberish ended up to be the one aspect of music that Junhong was (relatively) disinterested in. Vocals are important, sure, but it wasn't something Junhong was in charge of. (Nor did he want to be, if the stricken expression Youngjae received when he asked about it was of any indication.)
Honestly, God must think his irony-filled life is one big fat joke.
Still, he didn’t think he would have fared much better even if they did have similar interests, because Junhong had a habit off steering the subject away from himself. Yongguk-hyung raps too, he’d say, or Jongup-hyung is a much better dancer and Daehyun-hyung’s beat boxing isn’t half bad.
“What about you?” Youngjae asked. It was funny how nothing ever seemed to be about the boy.
Junhong brought his cap low enough to cover his eyes. Youngjae later discovered that it’s something he always does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable.
“I’m okay.”
And that was that.
They somehow ended up exchanging CDs after, creating a topic of interest where there was none before. Junhong wasn’t so bad if you carefully direct him to talk about his musical inspirations. He also was far more talkative if Youngjae treated him to food.
But nothing really started until Youngjae casually mentioned, several weeks later, that Junhong was welcomed to crash at his and Daehyun’s place whenever he decided not to go back home for the weekends or the short holidays.
“The train fare to Mokpo is pretty expensive, right? Just drag your ass over to ours.”
They weren’t that close just yet, but apparently close enough for Junhong to look at him teasingly and joke, “So you can’t get a girl and now you’re inviting me over?”
The good old days when Junhong would at least attempt to be cute when hurling him with insults.
“Haha,” Youngjae deadpanned. “This is me being nice.”
Junhong shrugged, but appeared later that weekend anyways.
Something must have happened in between. Youngjae wasn’t the type to invite people he wasn’t comfortable with, and even if he could perhaps take a step back and blame the invitation on study-related stress-info overload can sometimes cause people to act mildly drunk, as Youngjae has experienced firsthand with Daehyun-Junhong at least wouldn’t ever dream of inviting himself unannounced to a place of someone he doesn’t think of as a friend.
And, well, if they weren’t at least friends, they probably wouldn’t have ended up on the couch in the living room, the television turned on and ignored, their lips an inch apart from each other’s, excited, flustered and confused all at the same time.
Youngjae would have said something practical like you’re only sixteen, Junhong, we should stop instead of ending up a fumbling mess, scrambling at words that wouldn’t come and heart pounding so loudly he could barely hear anything else.
(But he still could, of course. Stupid things like the hitch of his own breath, or Junhong’s shaky exhale.)
And Junhong wouldn’t have smiled-looking more confident than Youngjae, for once, even when neither of them knew what the hell they were supposed to do-wouldn’t have told him it’s okay, hyung, wouldn’t have pulled him down to link their lips together.
Something must have happened, but for the life of him Youngjae can’t remember what.
-
On the night after Daehyun’s call, Junhong decides to go home.
“Now?” Youngjae asks, maybe just a little bit stunned.
Running away from home also means the absence of packing, and Junhong only needs to toss the things he bought in a single plastic bag for him to be ready. He pauses, though, fingers tracing the outline of the bag, and the hesitance he shows brushes off the guilt that Youngjae would get from holding him back.
“You don’t have to,” is what he tells him, the closest thing to stay he can ever get without directly shirking his responsibilities as an older brother figure and therefore not encouraging any attempts towards reconciliation, “Maybe wait until you’re a bit more comfortable with the idea?”
People often forget, because Youngjae is not the baby of the group and he definitely doesn’t go out of his way to act like one. But the truth is, though Youngjae might constantly remind Junhong that he’s a hyung to assert some form of authority over the latter, he’s only just two years older. And experience-wise, that’s not a lot at all. He acts on his whims more than he quashes them, chooses to think of the aftermath only when it’s staring at him right in the face: things foolish youngsters do, the thing that Junhong is probably doing to his parents.
Junhong looks up to face him and smiles.
“You shouldn’t be saying that,” he chides, and Youngjae hates him for it. He’s not sure whether it’s because Junhong can be sharp when he least expects him to be, or just the fact that Junhong can always see right through him.
He doesn’t know how to tell Junhong that he apparently likes him enough to not want him to leave either, not without the whole speech descending into something cringeworthy. So Youngjae kisses him instead-the first time he does after Junhong appears at his door; or rather, the first time he does in a long while-except it’s not nearly as romantic as it sounds. Slamming one’s lips against another’s might sound exciting in fiction, but in real life Youngjae only succeeds in uncomfortably knocking their teeth together. The grunt that escapes Junhong when his back hits the door with a loud bang can’t be described to be anything other than pained, and contrary to popular belief it’s not easy to multitask when you’re all over each other, something that Youngjae finds out as Junhong softly pushes him away for a few seconds in favour of locking the door.
They’re an endless bundle of awkward, but that’s nothing new. And he gets the message across, at the very least.
They tend to end up this way at the most unlikely of places-the living room of his and Daehyun’s shared apartment, for instance, or if he wants the best example of horribly executed cliches, his parents are probably downstairs right now-but it’s never been about the thrill. Junhong is everything he appears to be during their first meeting two years back: shy, soft, and tender. He prefers light touches more than grips of passion, the slow stroking of his hair more than the tugging. His moves are calm and measured, his eyes stay open for as long they can-like he’s taking in the moments and relishing every single one-and he smiles smiles smiles in a way that makes Youngjae’s chest clench.
“Sorry,” he whispers, loud enough for Junhong to hear.
He's tempted to offer excuses, but blaming it all on his assignments and how he’s just so busy lately seems cheap somehow. He skims helplessly through his brain for another liable explanation, grasping at empty words with his brows furrowed, but the tightened grip around his wrist halts him in the process. Junhong's eyes are locked on his as the younger shakes his head and shrugs: he's never needed an explanation before, he definitely isn't going to start now.
There's that feeling again, like his heartstrings are being tugged and he's falling a little too hard. Youngjae quells it, quickly presses another kiss onto Junhong's welcoming lips and holds him deep into the night, lulled by nothing but the sound of their breathing. It feels like hours before they speak again, but when they do Youngjae's words are hushed, almost as if he's afraid of breaking something profound, and Junhong lets out a soft, amused chuckle that earns him a painful slap on his arm.
“How's school?” Junhong asks, eyes bright and curious, like he hasn't just spent the last two months at the bottom of Youngjae's priorities.
“Like hell, but I'm surviving.” Youngjae tries not to think, because any topic even briefly connected to the idea of his studies always brings him back to the assignment that he's left untouched for days-something that he promised Daehyun would remain untouched, at least until he's finished healing his abused eyes and rids off the hideous bags forming under them. “What about you?”
Junhong has these things... Periodic Check Ups, Youngjae thinks they're called, but it's really just another name for surprise evaluations. They usually consist of people dropping by the school and giving a mandatory lecture or two, but sometimes there are special dates and events; mini-concerts where sponsors would all attend in droves to check on the results of their investments.
He remembers Junhong whining about it a year back, when extra practice sessions led to him being stuck in the dorms for the weekend. Juniors didn't actually need to put in that much effort, but it was also Jongup's graduation performance and Junhong had volunteered to help out as his dance partner to ensure that everything ran smoothly. It was a nice gesture, honestly, but it didn't stop Youngjae from spending the whole night annoying Junhong by texting wishes of mock grief for the younger boy's plight. The joy ended up being short-lived, because Himchan turned up a day later and demanded that everyone be with their two dongsaengs throughout practice as a show of moral support, which led to them holding up embarrassing homemade banners for a beaming Jongup and a flustered Junhong in the morning and squeezing into the two's unfortunately small shared bedroom at night.
With Junhong's graduation right around the corner, these things become major. One strong performance and a few sweet words from the instructor could mean that he's well on his way to being signed on to a major company. Youngjae's not entirely sure how the whole process works, but if Yongguk's praises are anything to go by, Junhong is a crowd favorite, and there will definitely be a lot of eyes on him during his end of term act.
Youngjae doesn't know how he manages, because if it was him he'd definitely have cracked under all the pressure by now. But this is Junhong they're talking about and the kid is a lot tougher than he looks, so he just shrugs lightly and says, “Everything's fine.”
The answer is expected, but Youngjae pokes anyway, searching for cracks in Junhong's armor of self confidence. “Are you scared?”
Junhong blinks before his eyes dart off to find Youngjae's, and he stares for so long that Youngjae actually begins to suspect that he's going to break down. He doesn't though, only responds with another shrug and a curious smile.
“A little, I guess,” he answers honestly, “But there are scarier things.”
Youngjae would ask, but Junhong pulls him in before he could.
-
As it turns out, Youngjae's sudden dose of affection only manages to hold Junhong back for another night. The next morning finds Junhong packing again, and Youngjae watches as the former steals one of his many backpacks and stuffs his things in. They don't talk about it until late in the afternoon when Junhong gently puts a hand on Youngjae's shoulder while one of his textbooks threatens to curse him to sleep, and Youngjae looks up and sees Junhong signaling to the door.
“I should leave,” Junhong begins, “Before it gets too late.”
“Oh,” is all Youngjae can respond with before he stands up and walks him to the front door.
Junhong apparently doesn't know what to do with himself either, because he loiters uselessly outside the door, looking torn between wordlessly walking away or offering some lame words of parting. It doesn't usually work that way when there's school, because both him and Youngjae have classes in the morning and they'll be too busy trying to make it to class on time to really bother with each other. “Um.” He tries lamely.
“Here.” Youngjae slips something into his pocket, cutting him off in his speech before he can start babbling. Junhong fingers the notes, frowning at first in confusion, then in annoyance.
“I don't-”
“It's not Yongguk-hyung's.” Youngjae assures, though he purposely avoids mentioning that he sneaked those into one of the bag's compartments when Junhong isn't looking. If Junhong is unhappy about it, he can take it to the man himself. “It's mine.”
The frown doesn't ease. “But you don't have-”
“Emergency money. I have emergency money,” Youngjae reminds him. “I don't know about you, but sending a kid off knowing that he doesn't have enough cash to make it home sounds like an emergency to me.”
“You don't have to, hyung.” Junhong doesn't act annoyed at being referred to as a kid like Youngjae expects him to, seemingly more concerned over the notes he's gripping in his hand. But he seems to know better than to try and return it, much to Youngjae's pleasure. “Thanks.” He breathes, biting his bottom lip hesitantly.
“Go home and fix whatever it is that needs fixing.” Youngjae says, scratches the back of his head. He doesn't have any qualms about giving advice, but not when he's not privy to all sides of an argument. “I'm not sure what happened, but apologize to your parents, okay? I get that they're not the most agreeable people to have around most of the time--” He peers behind him cautiously as the words leave his mouth, making sure that his mom is not around to eavesdrop. “-but they usually mean well, and keeping yourself in their good graces make things a whole lot easier.”
Junhong smiles gratefully, and Youngjae's glad someone is thankful because he has no idea what he's saying.
“And-”
Youngjae shouldn't, he really shouldn't. It'll make things harder on him, it'll make things harder on Junhong, and as if those aren't bad enough he'll also completely ruin any effect his (not so) wise advice procured. But he says it anyway. Youngjae might pride himself on being a rational-minded person, but even he has to admit that he's never actually been good at relying on reason when it comes to Junhong.
“If you change your mind or if things don't work out, you can always come back.”
Junhong's smile widens ever so slowly, but he still shakes his head. “Tomorrow's New Year's Eve. I wouldn't want to intrude on your family time.”
And Youngjae thinks of all the times he spends the holidays in the library, drowned in the mountains of book he's stuck on reading for research, thinks of all the times Junhong sits beside him without a word of complaint even when Youngjae knows he's being too much of a workaholic, thinks of the moments where Junhong cancels a rare trip home because Youngjae's exams are approaching and he really doesn't want to go back even if that means the campus will be empty because he just can't concentrate as well at home.
Youngjae can't help it. He snorts. “Junhong, please. We spent weeks stuck with each other's company before and I didn't kick you out. What makes you think I'm going to start now?”
You're family enough, aren't you? is what he doesn't say, but it doesn't matter because it's what both of them hears. Junhong looks away so quickly that if Youngjae doesn't know any better, he'll think that the younger boy disagrees. He doesn't though. It's something that Junhong hates to admit, but Youngjae knows that he tears up pretty easily in these sorts of situations.
“Charge your stupid phone.” Youngjae says. A reprieve, more likely; he doesn't think Junhong wants to talk. He still has his pride, after all.
Junhong makes a sound to show that he hears. He still has his face turned away. It makes Youngjae smile.
-
It's frustrating how Junhong seems so intent on keeping his phone dead.
Youngjae tosses the device to the bed and hangs up a new calendar on his wall.
>>