(kick back) let the universe align. [for baekhoes_garden]
For: baekhoes_garden
Title: (kick back) let the universe align.
Pairing(s)/focus: Jackson / Youngji (KARA) / JR
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~5,200w
Warning(s): polyamory
Author's notes: I can't believe I managed to finish this one, tbh, but here I am! Special thanks (a lot of thanks) to baekhoes_garden for giving me tons of wonderful prompts, I hope you like your gift fic <3 And shoutout to N for the hand-holding, R for screaming at me when circumstances made me lazier than a sloth, and A for flooding me with JackJiR; I love you guys, I wouldn't have been able to finish this if not for you. <3 Finally, thank you tons to the mod(s?) for organizing this fic exchange!
Summary: In which Jackson swallows attention like the coffee he takes every morning, Jinyoung is perturbed, and Youngji is more than happy to be with them both.
The first thing that Youngji remembers when she initially met Jackson was Lloyd Banks' "On Fire" booming off his headphones - yes, the volume was at its highest, and no, she hadn't understood a single thing from the song. He had been a transferee from Hong Kong, and was the son of former Olympic athletes back in his hometown of some sort. It didn't come off as a big deal to her, but it did to the others; Jackson got looks of awe everywhere he went, and it seemed to feed his ego. The brat.
Freshman year, she had (partially) resented him for being the resident class clown - pranks fit for a seven year-old who's pining for attention was always up his sleeve. Sophomore year, she found herself laughing at him as he constantly got into trouble with the teachers because of his boisterous behaviour. By junior high, she's laughing with him, as she found out that her sense of humour was (apparently) as impish as his.
Long before graduation loomed just around the corner, they were head-over-heels in love and were considered - for lack of better comparison - two peas in a pod.
So it goes to say that they've been high school sweethearts, puppy love becoming something more solid and stronger as the days went by, but that didn't mean they had all the love in the world - while most high school sweethearts go on the same paths, apply for the same university the summer after high school ends, Jackson and Youngji decided not to stick with the norm; Jackson attended Korea University on a scholarship as a fencing athlete, living up to his father's dream in doing so. Youngji, on the other hand, proceeded to Dongguk University.
Going separate ways meant juggling their studies and their relationship, especially with Jackson's constant team practices and Youngji's field works. Seven times during their collegiate years, they broke up and got back together, baffling everyone who knew the duo - whether they were serious with each other or not, nobody really knew. Another four years went by in a blur, another graduation ceremony (albeit separate) for them both, and their friends and families had expected for them to get married right off the bat.
"Not just yet," Youngji had laughed, hand holding Jackson's tighter as they were bombarded with questions during a party thrown by their families. "How would you expect us to live a married life when we don't even have jobs?" Jackson had stifled a chuckle and jokingly added that they could live off of their parents if they wanted to, earning a slap to the chest.
That was 6 years ago. Now, the two are happily married to - who else? - each other (and only recently, mind you), Youngji's a psychologist specializing in child trauma with countless awards under her belt, Jackson is a biosystems engineer for a large-scale company, and they live in a high-rise apartment somewhere in Seocho with no plans of adding a special bundle of joy into their lives sometime soon. Everything's perfect just the way it is.
Until Jinyoung came along.
--
"What time do you clock out later?"
Jackson rolls around in bed and yawns. "Around 6:30 in the evening, I think," he says, idly scratching at a spot just under his bellybutton. He stretches and pads over to where Youngji sits in front of her vanity, settling his hands on her shoulder and watching her as she meticulously wears her earrings. "Wouldn't afford to miss the first date we've had in forever."
Youngji laughs, that special laugh only Jackson was ever given the privilege to see, head thrown back and eyes curling up at the edges in mirth. "Stop saying that; it's not like every single moment we see each other aren't considered as dates."
"Technically, they shouldn't even be considered as dates. They don't have all those romantic stuff, like flowers and candle lights," Jackson replies, index finger up in the air as if to present his argument matter-of-factly. Really, haphazard breakfasts in their apartment (sometimes in their car) and dinners at a nearby restaurant aren't good enough to be dates. The latter serves really good jokbal and tteokbokki, though. "And waiters who pour your wine in front of you, might I add."
Youngji only shakes her head in amusement - typical Jackson. "Okay, fine. Now can you please take a bath and brush your teeth? You stink."
"Not unless I get a good morning kiss." Jackson eyes his wife and winks, right cheek sticking out in invitation. Youngji laughs again; if they were in the earlier stages of their relationship, say, back when they were still teenagers struggling with puberty and school, she would have been irked and told him off right then and there. But then again, they aren't - the two of them have gotten so close over the years, both platonically and romantically, to even care whether the other has bed hair or bad breath. The chastising only comes as a joke, nothing serious at all.
"You're not getting anything until you get out of that bathroom, all squeaky clean." Youngji retorts, standing up and brushing off the lint on her pencil skirt.
"'Squeaky clean'? That's so cute, my wife's already practicing on how to talk to our first child," Jackson coos, arms coming up to hug a Youngji who blushes profusely, despite her attempts of wriggling away. "But still, give me my morning kiss."
Youngji sighs but relents. A morning kiss, it is.
--
Being a psychologist specializing in child trauma wasn't exactly what Youngji had in mind when she was younger, initially having dreams of becoming a critically-acclaimed author who bests even the infamous 'Harry Potter' series of J.K. Rowling. But high school happened, and she realized that it's all she will never be - she could write, but only as a hobby.
She remembered her preschool years being pulled away from the bookshelves by her teacher so she could join the rest of her classmates during breaks, or being the only enthusiastic one in class when it always came to reading time. Youngji also remembered her primary years as something that revolved around writing and books; first grade saw her putting her imaginations into words and jotting it down onto paper, while second grade saw her frequent even the busiest of libraries nearby her house during the weekends. Third and fourth grade helped her develop her talent for writing, having persuaded her parents to let her enter summer writing workshops in Busan. Fifth and sixth grade saw her putting that talent into good use, joining competitions and winning, even going on to become the editor-in-chief of their school newspaper.
Middle school was more lenient; while the thirst for knowledge about writing wasn't as strong as before, her passion was still there and constantly knocking on her door. Because of her academics, she wasn't as active, only joining competitions whenever she had the chance. Pen and paper were replaced by textbooks and calculators, her imaginations stowed away into a tiny box in her brain for future reference. The times when she actually wrote down something of substance became rarer as she progressed semester by semester, and she wasn't even complaining. Writing competitions eventually became Science Olympiads and preparations for high school.
By the time she had started her secondary education at a prestigious high school, Youngji had long forgotten how to be that effusive young writer she once was.
But as she now looks at the young girl sitting in front of her, downcast eyes seemingly boring holes into her carpet, she thinks it's for the best.
"Hi, Hara. How has school been?" Hara's been her ward for two years now, a fourteen year-old who's had several cases of attempted suicides in the past. Right now, she's doing great, but one can never be so sure what's going on in her mind - teenagers, Youngji thinks bemusedly.
"Fine," the younger one replies, picking at her nails and then looking over at the clock behind Youngji. "How long will it be until this session ends? I want to go home."
And there it is. Youngji sighs inwardly. She got this question every single time, and it honestly has been the most monotonous thing she's ever heard her entire life. "We still have fifty minutes, because we've only just begun." She shifts on the couch she's sitting on, settling more comfortably with her notepad on her lap. "If it's okay to ask, why the rush?"
Hara's eyes widen, not expecting the question at all. "Um, there's a friend of mine," she halts, her cheeks turning pink, "waiting for me to give the details about our homework. Yeah, that's it. She was absent, you see." She clasps her hands in front of her and adjusts her floral top. Youngji thinks it's cute.
"So... this friend of yours. It's not a girl, am I right?" She presses on gently, not missing the way her patient's cheeks darken further as she squirms in her seat. "It's okay, you can tell me," Youngji leans in conspiratorially, winking at Hara. "Been there, done that; trust me."
The rest of the session passes with Hara talking about the new boy in her class, Jaebum, who she finds attractive. Youngji listens, taking down notes about how the younger seems to be really doing better these days, and that's not just about her depression; Hara proudly tells her that she got accepted to go to a workshop her school had funded, and that she's set to leave in a week.
"It's in Gangneung, and the best part is that I get extra credit for the next semester." Youngji can sense Hara's excitement even when she isn't outwardly showing it, instead laughing and helping the younger with her coat. "Don't worry! I'll be fine even if I get to miss a few sessions. I'll bring my medication with me, and I could text you to make sure I'm fine," Hara rambles on, similar to a child that's genuinely excited about something.
"Alright, I'll take you up on that; that's a promise, okay?" Youngji nods and bids her goodbye. She shuffles towards her table and checks the time - 5:30pm. Jackson did say he gets off at 6:30, so she has time to spare. Hara was the last session on her schedule, so Youngji grabs her coat and handbag, helps the receptionist close up for the day, and heads straight home.
--
Youngji and Jackson drive home from a high-class restaurant in Gangnam half past nine later that evening, the former still disagreeing with her husband with his choice for a dining place. "It's fine, I promise! It's been too long since I brought you to one on a date, anyway," Jackson had held tighter onto her hand once he noticed the slight downward slope of her eyebrows. "Besides, we couldn't let those pretty tulips and your beautiful dress - I mean, you - go out of place in just a family restaurant, right?"
Youngji had laughed at that last remark, swatting at him with the same arm that held her bouquet and ignoring the protests of hey, that hurts! And those flowers are expensive, young lady! - Jackson had surprised her with a whole bunch of yellow tulips (her favorite) once she opened the door earlier that night, complete with a kiss on the cheek and a curtsy.
Jackson. A curtsy. Just who did she marry, anyway?
The drive is relatively short, a good fifteen minutes, but somehow it felt like the time stretched on into hours. Maybe it's the traffic, Youngji muses, or it's Jackson's hand holding onto hers while he drove. He's always driven with only one hand, the other either on the gear shift, or absentmindedly tapping on his own lap. It's actually the first time he's remotely taken Youngji's smaller hand into his while driving, and it makes her heart swell with a whole lot of emotions that make her want to cry and laugh at the same time.
The drive is relatively short, a good fifteen minutes, but Youngji has it ingrained into her mind anyway, adding it to her ever-growing list aptly titled Reasons Why Jackson Wang Makes Me Fall For Him All Over Again.
--
"I'm going on a business trip," is what Jackson says first thing the next morning, the same time Youngji announces, "I'm going to write a book."
Jackson chuckles fondly. "Well, that moment definitely lacked a drum roll." He pads over to where Youngji is making coffee, and settles himself comfortably on one of the kitchen island's stools whilst wrangling with his necktie. "Write a book, huh? About what?"
Youngji hums noncommittally and makes Jackson his own coffee - one sugar, two creams. "Oh, I don't know. Romance, maybe? That has always been one of my strongest suits." Jackson knows about Youngji's talent in writing; the first one in their class who knew about it, actually. Back in high school, he had accidentally walked in on her inside the school's IT section and (may or may have not) spied on her writing about modern-day star-crossed lovers, disapproving parents and the social hierarchy of teenagers. Needless to say, he was impressed, and finally gathered the courage to tell her about it (the spying - no, the accidental walk-in).
Jackson nods, finally getting his tie into place and sipping his coffee. "Thanks," he gestures to the drink, "but don't you want to venture out? Like, incorporate some other genres? Maybe make it about your job, kind of like a fictional autobiography?"
Youngji stares at her husband as if he has said the most absurd thing in the world (granted, Jackson does say the craziest things, but that's when he's too drunk out of his mind). "You know, I have been expecting you to entirely be against this decision," she finally laughs and kisses Jackson's cheek, "but here you are, sipping morning coffee, and even suggesting what genres I can possibly work with. You never fail to surprise me, Jackson Wang."
Jackson takes another sip, and looks at Youngji mock-incredulously. "What, you think I'm not that good of a husband?" When all she gives him is a scandalized look, he amends, "Kidding. But seriously, I'm in no position to prevent you from making your own decisions. We're both grown-ups, Ji, we know how to make things work," he checks his watch, "And speaking of work, I'm about to run late. Early board meeting."
Youngji sees him to the door, helping him with his coat and scarf. "We'll talk about the details of your business trip later when you get home, alright? Bye, honey. Have fun today!" She waves goodbye from their doorstep, pulling her bathrobe tighter around herself.
Jackson looks back, an eyebrow raised and car keys in hand. "I'm going to work," he deadpans, "not to daycare."
Youngji just laughs.
--
In retrospect, maybe writing a book is too much of a good thing. When Youngji had called her parents to inform them about her decision, her father had insisted that he oversee her progress (even though he's absolutely got less proficiency than she has) and her mother had cried over the phone, telling her how thankful she was that Youngji finally had the time to make something for herself; Youngji honestly did not know where that sentiment came from, but she thanked them, nonetheless - of course, with the assurance that they get a special mention in the book (she meant it as a joke, but she isn't so sure now).
Next, her older brothers - Joon, Seho and Dongwook had (loudly) cried out "Our baby sister is all grown up!" in perfect chorus the moment she told them (she shouldn't have used a conference call, damn it), that even if she had to pull her phone away from her ear and held it at arm's length, she could still hear them blubbering about how mature she has been these past few years. "I have been mature ever since we were kids, you just refuse to acknowledge that because I'm your pretty little dongsaeng," Youngji giggles.
She doesn't miss the sputtered protests of her brothers spew out: "Don't refer to yourself as little, because what does that make me?" (Seho), "Pretty? Don't make me laugh!" (Dongwook), and "You nasty girl!" (Joon). Of course.
Even her friends from university were ecstatic upon finding out. "I didn't know that you took those GE classes with Ms. Bae seriously," Nana laughed at her as she stirred the sugar into her coffee. Beside her, Gookju and Sunny nod in tandem. "I mean, we all pegged you to be this smart science girl who loves facts rather than fiction."
"Nah, the sciences actually weren't my forte, to be honest," Youngji laughs. "I guess I just want to give it a try, after all these years."
"Then who's stopping you?"
--
Jackson can't believe what he's seeing. He just can't.
"JR?" Said man looks up from where he's sitting, pen in hand poised over a stack of papers on the table. He tilts his head in confusion, before opening his mouth to form a small 'o'. "Jackson?"
Park JR (real name Jinyoung) was one of Jackson and Youngji's regular classmates since they entered high school. Slicked back hair, crooked grin, plump lips; those were just some of the terms used when one was to describe JR. The nickname came from one of their teachers, Park Jinyoung, who also served as the student council adviser; JR was a popular guy not because he's the leader of their high school's well-loved dance crew, but also because he served as the student council's treasurer. While Jackson was popular because he was the resident school jock, JR was popular because he was the all-around guy.
"JR, my man! How have you been?" Jackson laughs and moves forward to envelope him into a bear hug. "It's been so long, dude!" He pulls back and looks at the other from top to bottom. "What happened to the cool guy facade, huh?"
"Cool guy me decided to stop being cool and chose to major in Literature during university," the man chuckles and makes to adjust his glasses atop the bridge of his nose. "And I go by Jinyoung now, by the way."
"Jinyoung, huh? Like Park Jinyoung of 'History and Government of Korea' way back in high school? JR senior?" Jackson guffaws as JR - Jinyoung - makes a face similar to someone who wants to sock him square in the face. "I'm kidding! Mind if I join you?"
"Nah." Jinyoung gestures to the seat across him. "Go ahead."
--
"He's an editor for a publishing company now. Would you believe that?" Jackson tells Youngji over dinner that night. Youngji only nods absentmindedly, toying with her pasta. "Youngji, babe, what's wrong?"
"Ah, yeah, I'm good," Youngji smiles, but it dissolves into a sigh and she slumps down on her seat as Jackson gives her his Don't You Lie To Me look. "I know I'm not the only one who's excited about this book, but what I'm worrying about right now is that I don't have a publisher. And I need someone to proofread my work, too! This is taking so much time."
Jackson laughs. "Weren't you listening to what I was saying earlier?" When all Youngji gives him is a confused look, he laughs. "JR from high school is now an editor. I took the liberty of introducing him to your idea and he's all game. Wait a sec," he says, and all but runs to their room. When he emerges, he's carrying a call card; he tosses the small paper into Youngji's waiting hands (thankfully, it didn't go anywhere near the food). "That's his number; he says he's ready to talk to you anytime you want."
Jackson doesn't get much of a reprieve, because suddenly Youngji is over him, peppering him with kisses and crushing him into a hug and saying thank you thank you thank you like a mantra. She smells distinctly like her body wash and pesto (Jackson inwardly cringes at the last one), but he allows it anyway.
--
It's all smooth-sailing after that. Youngji and Jinyoung (who insists that they stop calling him by his high school moniker) meet up regularly at their apartment on Monday, Thursday, and Friday nights; although Jinyoung was a bit hesitant to be stepping into personal space - of a married couple at that ("You guys actually married each other?" "Yeah, what's wrong?" "I'm honestly more impressed with Youngji that she's managed to put up with you for so long." "Hey!") - Jackson and Youngji had profusely assured him that it was fine, he was an old friend, he was welcome anytime.
Anytime it is. The first time Jinyoung had slept in was when Jackson let out a stream of curses the moment he stepped into the apartment. "Shit, I'm pretty sure those are rocks pelting down outside. Stay the night, dude, I don't think this'll let up anytime soon." He was given Jackson's extra clothes to change into, and the guest bedroom all his (for the night, that is). And although Jinyoung honestly didn't plan it to be that way, waking up to the smell of coffee and eggs wafting up into his room and hearing the couple's childish banter as soon as he steps into the kitchen certainly beats waking up to cold sheets and the smell of his dog's poop in the hallway. JInyoung had hoped it was only a one-time thing.
It wasn't.
By now, he has lost track of how many times he had slept at the tandem's apartment; Jinyoung's pretty sure himself that the toothbrush he's been using in the bathroom is the exact same one he had haphazardly bought from the downstairs convenience store (Seocho apartments have everything, he muses) the first night, albeit with only a covering for the head now, probably to keep bacteria away. It's always the same red towel they give to him for whenever he stays, dry-cleaned and smelling a lot like lavender and lemons. And he finds it odd how Jackson always takes his coffee black (Youngji drinks decaf), yet they have powdered cream stashed in their cupboards.
Youngji's also taken a habit of baking muffins for him and Jackson every Wednesday; lemon poppyseed, his favorite, and mint chocolate, Jackson's. He also notices how she affectionately pats his head in between manuscript discussions, or how Jackson sends the most ridiculous Snapchat photos even when he's in the middle of work; how Jackson stops by at his office and leaves blonde roast coffee (Starbucks, at that, and his favorite; how did he know?) at the reception. It's also been an unspoken agreement between the two men to help Youngji in any way possible; Jinyoung's in charge of the Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule, and Jackson's in charge of the rest. It's become a regular occurrence for Jinyoung to open his email and find out that youngji's done with chptr 26, youngji's done this again, youngji is sleeping over her manuscript right now wht do i do. Jinyoung's afraid, afraid he's hovering over dangerous territory, that he's about to cross forbidden lines.
That sentiment only solidifies when he enters the apartment on a Friday night and finds Jackson lounging on the couch, wearing his shirt. Jinyoung's shirt. Since when did I even leave my things around here?
The real question is: why aren't they complaining?
--
"She's almost done! Just a few more revisions and she's good to go," JInyoung claps in glee and proceeds to stretch his body after four long hours of editing and coercing Youngji into writing the final chapter. Jackson looks up from where he's sitting at the kitchen island, chuckling as the other winces when he strains his right shoulder muscle a bit too much. He stands and heads over to the coffee maker, helping himself to another mug.
Jinyoung isn't prepared for the mug to be placed beside him, and for warm calloused hands to massage the part where he's feeling a lot more stiffness than he normally does. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you a massage, of course."
"No, I mean - just - stop!" Jinyoung scrambles away, suddenly feeling like his heart's being constricted inside his chest. He hovers over the sink, opening the tap and running shaking hands under the cold water. Jinyoung splashes some onto his face for good measure. "Just - please stop, whatever this is you guys are doing."
"What exactly are we doing, Jinyoung?" Youngji appears by the doorway, toweling her wet hair dry.
He doesn't know what made him do it, but JInyoung lashes out, full force. "This! This eerily domestic setting! Why are you guys including me into this? You," he points at Jackson, "make it seem so easy to just bring me coffee every single day, or make it look completely normal when you wear my clothes in your apartment! And you," he looks at Youngji, "why are you so affectionate with me? Why include me into the party when you bake? Why make sure I get home safe and sound?"
"This has to stop. Please. I'm just your editor, your high school friend, nothing more, nothing less. I'm not about to become a homewrecker, okay? So please, just stop this," Jinyoung gestures wildly in the air, "whatever this is." He slumps down on a nearby chair and cradles his face in his hands, making a valiant attempt to not break down.
He misses the look that Jackson and Youngji exchange.
"Did it ever occur to you," Youngji says, "that we were doing this because we loved you?"
"What." There he goes, being all articulate. Wait, back up - they love him? How is that even possible?
Jinyoung hears Jackson sigh, and it sounds so sad and distant, so unlike Jackson, that he has to look up. He isn't prepared for the both of them to be looking at him with somber expressions. "We haven't really, um, done this before," Jackson starts, and Jinyoung notices him wringing his hands in an unsure way, a habit he has when he's nervous (since when did he even notice that?), "this whole polyamory thing."
"Youngji and I, we've been together for so long; I trust you know that. We've known each other for so long that we don't care whether the other has bad breath in the morning, or if someone takes the toilet paper from the dispenser, or if someone misplaces the remote control. We're perfectly normal, as a couple and partnership-wise." Youngji comes over and brushes hands over Jackson's, and Jinyoung's heart unexpectedly swells at the sight. "Until you came along."
Indignance surges up, and Jinyoung finds himself almost baring his teeth at the two. "Now what? It's my fault now?"
"He didn't mean that," Youngji interjects, but Jackson squeezes her hand, as if telling her to calm down.
"Like Youngji said, I didn't mean it that way. What I meant was, you come waltzing into our lives when we least expected it, and we unconsciously bent ourselves to accommodate you. Like you were meant to be here in the first place. At first, I thought it was perfectly normal, our lives trying to incorporate a new friend into us. I'm not saying this as a bad thing," he repeats again when he sees Jinyoung's shoulders tense. "But then Youngji fell in love with you."
Jinyoung's jaw drops open, and his gaze snaps from Jackson to Youngji, who's smiling at him and nodding bashfully. "What?" He manages to croak out (probably the only one he will in a long time).
"And I honestly thought I'd get mad, or even jealous, that my wife managed to fall in love with someone else other than me even though we were married," Jackson looks at him straight in the eyes. "But I can't. Rather, my heart wouldn't allow me to do so."
"But with Youngji and I married, and Youngji loving you, and I know you've felt attracted to her even just once, this equation is broken. And I can't force you into this, Jinyoung, but what we're trying to say is: we come in a set. You don't take her unless you take me too. And I know it's going to be awkward, being guys, but I want to take care of you, too. I want us to take care of Youngji, help her and support her with whatever decision she makes." Jackson pauses, taking a deep breath, "We're technically not married, the three of us - and I doubt anyone would allow that - but I think we could make this work, if only we do this together."
"The question is, Jinyoung," Youngji pipes up; Jinyoung's almost forgotten that she's also here. "Do you love us back?"
Jinyoung shrugs. "Maybe?"
"There are no halfsies in this, Jinyoung. It's a yes or a no."
It takes him time, but Jinyoung finally gets the strength to stand up. "And I'm not exactly saying that I hate you guys, nor am I saying I love you back yet, but just. Give me time, please?" He smiles wanly at them, and that's what he is, tired and processing too many things inside his head that he feels it's gonna implode anytime soon. "I - deep inside, I guess - I want this to work out, too."
Jinyoung doesn't think the smiles on Jackson and Youngji's faces can get any brighter.
--
It takes work, Jinyoung warming up to them and Jackson and Youngji trying to fit him in, but they think it's worth it.
Jinyoung's long since moved into the apartment at Jackson's insistence, hauling even his ancient typewriter into the guest room ("I tell you, it's not a guest room anymore; I guess our friends will be sleeping on the couch when they come visit, then?") and subtly placing in some of his things permanently: slippers and shoes in the foyer, an abstract painting on one of the bare walls in the living room, his microwaveable ware inside the kitchen cabinets.
They go back to their usual routines, and also add new ones: leaving for work at 7:30 in the morning, take turns in paying for the groceries, splitting the bill when they eat out - but this time, Youngji is allowed to crowd the both of them into the kitchen counter as they eat breakfast, her spoon taking turns in hitting their foreheads so they fully wake up; Jackson and Jinyoung find it a lot easier to just share suits and work clothes, since they're of the same size, and what's there to complain about?
They're not sure where this setup will lead them, but all they know now is that they have to enjoy each other's company. And while Jinyoung's guest room is abandoned for cuddling with the both of them in their king-sized bed (how they fit it in the room, he had no idea), Jackson's light snoring and Youngji's breath fanning over his bare arm as he's squeezed in the middle, Jinyoung thinks it's high time he say those four words that have been itching to be let known.
I love you both.
[readers, don't forget to leave a comment! anonymous is on if you're shy.]
Title: (kick back) let the universe align.
Pairing(s)/focus: Jackson / Youngji (KARA) / JR
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~5,200w
Warning(s): polyamory
Author's notes: I can't believe I managed to finish this one, tbh, but here I am! Special thanks (a lot of thanks) to baekhoes_garden for giving me tons of wonderful prompts, I hope you like your gift fic <3 And shoutout to N for the hand-holding, R for screaming at me when circumstances made me lazier than a sloth, and A for flooding me with JackJiR; I love you guys, I wouldn't have been able to finish this if not for you. <3 Finally, thank you tons to the mod(s?) for organizing this fic exchange!
Summary: In which Jackson swallows attention like the coffee he takes every morning, Jinyoung is perturbed, and Youngji is more than happy to be with them both.
The first thing that Youngji remembers when she initially met Jackson was Lloyd Banks' "On Fire" booming off his headphones - yes, the volume was at its highest, and no, she hadn't understood a single thing from the song. He had been a transferee from Hong Kong, and was the son of former Olympic athletes back in his hometown of some sort. It didn't come off as a big deal to her, but it did to the others; Jackson got looks of awe everywhere he went, and it seemed to feed his ego. The brat.
Freshman year, she had (partially) resented him for being the resident class clown - pranks fit for a seven year-old who's pining for attention was always up his sleeve. Sophomore year, she found herself laughing at him as he constantly got into trouble with the teachers because of his boisterous behaviour. By junior high, she's laughing with him, as she found out that her sense of humour was (apparently) as impish as his.
Long before graduation loomed just around the corner, they were head-over-heels in love and were considered - for lack of better comparison - two peas in a pod.
So it goes to say that they've been high school sweethearts, puppy love becoming something more solid and stronger as the days went by, but that didn't mean they had all the love in the world - while most high school sweethearts go on the same paths, apply for the same university the summer after high school ends, Jackson and Youngji decided not to stick with the norm; Jackson attended Korea University on a scholarship as a fencing athlete, living up to his father's dream in doing so. Youngji, on the other hand, proceeded to Dongguk University.
Going separate ways meant juggling their studies and their relationship, especially with Jackson's constant team practices and Youngji's field works. Seven times during their collegiate years, they broke up and got back together, baffling everyone who knew the duo - whether they were serious with each other or not, nobody really knew. Another four years went by in a blur, another graduation ceremony (albeit separate) for them both, and their friends and families had expected for them to get married right off the bat.
"Not just yet," Youngji had laughed, hand holding Jackson's tighter as they were bombarded with questions during a party thrown by their families. "How would you expect us to live a married life when we don't even have jobs?" Jackson had stifled a chuckle and jokingly added that they could live off of their parents if they wanted to, earning a slap to the chest.
That was 6 years ago. Now, the two are happily married to - who else? - each other (and only recently, mind you), Youngji's a psychologist specializing in child trauma with countless awards under her belt, Jackson is a biosystems engineer for a large-scale company, and they live in a high-rise apartment somewhere in Seocho with no plans of adding a special bundle of joy into their lives sometime soon. Everything's perfect just the way it is.
Until Jinyoung came along.
--
"What time do you clock out later?"
Jackson rolls around in bed and yawns. "Around 6:30 in the evening, I think," he says, idly scratching at a spot just under his bellybutton. He stretches and pads over to where Youngji sits in front of her vanity, settling his hands on her shoulder and watching her as she meticulously wears her earrings. "Wouldn't afford to miss the first date we've had in forever."
Youngji laughs, that special laugh only Jackson was ever given the privilege to see, head thrown back and eyes curling up at the edges in mirth. "Stop saying that; it's not like every single moment we see each other aren't considered as dates."
"Technically, they shouldn't even be considered as dates. They don't have all those romantic stuff, like flowers and candle lights," Jackson replies, index finger up in the air as if to present his argument matter-of-factly. Really, haphazard breakfasts in their apartment (sometimes in their car) and dinners at a nearby restaurant aren't good enough to be dates. The latter serves really good jokbal and tteokbokki, though. "And waiters who pour your wine in front of you, might I add."
Youngji only shakes her head in amusement - typical Jackson. "Okay, fine. Now can you please take a bath and brush your teeth? You stink."
"Not unless I get a good morning kiss." Jackson eyes his wife and winks, right cheek sticking out in invitation. Youngji laughs again; if they were in the earlier stages of their relationship, say, back when they were still teenagers struggling with puberty and school, she would have been irked and told him off right then and there. But then again, they aren't - the two of them have gotten so close over the years, both platonically and romantically, to even care whether the other has bed hair or bad breath. The chastising only comes as a joke, nothing serious at all.
"You're not getting anything until you get out of that bathroom, all squeaky clean." Youngji retorts, standing up and brushing off the lint on her pencil skirt.
"'Squeaky clean'? That's so cute, my wife's already practicing on how to talk to our first child," Jackson coos, arms coming up to hug a Youngji who blushes profusely, despite her attempts of wriggling away. "But still, give me my morning kiss."
Youngji sighs but relents. A morning kiss, it is.
--
Being a psychologist specializing in child trauma wasn't exactly what Youngji had in mind when she was younger, initially having dreams of becoming a critically-acclaimed author who bests even the infamous 'Harry Potter' series of J.K. Rowling. But high school happened, and she realized that it's all she will never be - she could write, but only as a hobby.
She remembered her preschool years being pulled away from the bookshelves by her teacher so she could join the rest of her classmates during breaks, or being the only enthusiastic one in class when it always came to reading time. Youngji also remembered her primary years as something that revolved around writing and books; first grade saw her putting her imaginations into words and jotting it down onto paper, while second grade saw her frequent even the busiest of libraries nearby her house during the weekends. Third and fourth grade helped her develop her talent for writing, having persuaded her parents to let her enter summer writing workshops in Busan. Fifth and sixth grade saw her putting that talent into good use, joining competitions and winning, even going on to become the editor-in-chief of their school newspaper.
Middle school was more lenient; while the thirst for knowledge about writing wasn't as strong as before, her passion was still there and constantly knocking on her door. Because of her academics, she wasn't as active, only joining competitions whenever she had the chance. Pen and paper were replaced by textbooks and calculators, her imaginations stowed away into a tiny box in her brain for future reference. The times when she actually wrote down something of substance became rarer as she progressed semester by semester, and she wasn't even complaining. Writing competitions eventually became Science Olympiads and preparations for high school.
By the time she had started her secondary education at a prestigious high school, Youngji had long forgotten how to be that effusive young writer she once was.
But as she now looks at the young girl sitting in front of her, downcast eyes seemingly boring holes into her carpet, she thinks it's for the best.
"Hi, Hara. How has school been?" Hara's been her ward for two years now, a fourteen year-old who's had several cases of attempted suicides in the past. Right now, she's doing great, but one can never be so sure what's going on in her mind - teenagers, Youngji thinks bemusedly.
"Fine," the younger one replies, picking at her nails and then looking over at the clock behind Youngji. "How long will it be until this session ends? I want to go home."
And there it is. Youngji sighs inwardly. She got this question every single time, and it honestly has been the most monotonous thing she's ever heard her entire life. "We still have fifty minutes, because we've only just begun." She shifts on the couch she's sitting on, settling more comfortably with her notepad on her lap. "If it's okay to ask, why the rush?"
Hara's eyes widen, not expecting the question at all. "Um, there's a friend of mine," she halts, her cheeks turning pink, "waiting for me to give the details about our homework. Yeah, that's it. She was absent, you see." She clasps her hands in front of her and adjusts her floral top. Youngji thinks it's cute.
"So... this friend of yours. It's not a girl, am I right?" She presses on gently, not missing the way her patient's cheeks darken further as she squirms in her seat. "It's okay, you can tell me," Youngji leans in conspiratorially, winking at Hara. "Been there, done that; trust me."
The rest of the session passes with Hara talking about the new boy in her class, Jaebum, who she finds attractive. Youngji listens, taking down notes about how the younger seems to be really doing better these days, and that's not just about her depression; Hara proudly tells her that she got accepted to go to a workshop her school had funded, and that she's set to leave in a week.
"It's in Gangneung, and the best part is that I get extra credit for the next semester." Youngji can sense Hara's excitement even when she isn't outwardly showing it, instead laughing and helping the younger with her coat. "Don't worry! I'll be fine even if I get to miss a few sessions. I'll bring my medication with me, and I could text you to make sure I'm fine," Hara rambles on, similar to a child that's genuinely excited about something.
"Alright, I'll take you up on that; that's a promise, okay?" Youngji nods and bids her goodbye. She shuffles towards her table and checks the time - 5:30pm. Jackson did say he gets off at 6:30, so she has time to spare. Hara was the last session on her schedule, so Youngji grabs her coat and handbag, helps the receptionist close up for the day, and heads straight home.
--
Youngji and Jackson drive home from a high-class restaurant in Gangnam half past nine later that evening, the former still disagreeing with her husband with his choice for a dining place. "It's fine, I promise! It's been too long since I brought you to one on a date, anyway," Jackson had held tighter onto her hand once he noticed the slight downward slope of her eyebrows. "Besides, we couldn't let those pretty tulips and your beautiful dress - I mean, you - go out of place in just a family restaurant, right?"
Youngji had laughed at that last remark, swatting at him with the same arm that held her bouquet and ignoring the protests of hey, that hurts! And those flowers are expensive, young lady! - Jackson had surprised her with a whole bunch of yellow tulips (her favorite) once she opened the door earlier that night, complete with a kiss on the cheek and a curtsy.
Jackson. A curtsy. Just who did she marry, anyway?
The drive is relatively short, a good fifteen minutes, but somehow it felt like the time stretched on into hours. Maybe it's the traffic, Youngji muses, or it's Jackson's hand holding onto hers while he drove. He's always driven with only one hand, the other either on the gear shift, or absentmindedly tapping on his own lap. It's actually the first time he's remotely taken Youngji's smaller hand into his while driving, and it makes her heart swell with a whole lot of emotions that make her want to cry and laugh at the same time.
The drive is relatively short, a good fifteen minutes, but Youngji has it ingrained into her mind anyway, adding it to her ever-growing list aptly titled Reasons Why Jackson Wang Makes Me Fall For Him All Over Again.
--
"I'm going on a business trip," is what Jackson says first thing the next morning, the same time Youngji announces, "I'm going to write a book."
Jackson chuckles fondly. "Well, that moment definitely lacked a drum roll." He pads over to where Youngji is making coffee, and settles himself comfortably on one of the kitchen island's stools whilst wrangling with his necktie. "Write a book, huh? About what?"
Youngji hums noncommittally and makes Jackson his own coffee - one sugar, two creams. "Oh, I don't know. Romance, maybe? That has always been one of my strongest suits." Jackson knows about Youngji's talent in writing; the first one in their class who knew about it, actually. Back in high school, he had accidentally walked in on her inside the school's IT section and (may or may have not) spied on her writing about modern-day star-crossed lovers, disapproving parents and the social hierarchy of teenagers. Needless to say, he was impressed, and finally gathered the courage to tell her about it (the spying - no, the accidental walk-in).
Jackson nods, finally getting his tie into place and sipping his coffee. "Thanks," he gestures to the drink, "but don't you want to venture out? Like, incorporate some other genres? Maybe make it about your job, kind of like a fictional autobiography?"
Youngji stares at her husband as if he has said the most absurd thing in the world (granted, Jackson does say the craziest things, but that's when he's too drunk out of his mind). "You know, I have been expecting you to entirely be against this decision," she finally laughs and kisses Jackson's cheek, "but here you are, sipping morning coffee, and even suggesting what genres I can possibly work with. You never fail to surprise me, Jackson Wang."
Jackson takes another sip, and looks at Youngji mock-incredulously. "What, you think I'm not that good of a husband?" When all she gives him is a scandalized look, he amends, "Kidding. But seriously, I'm in no position to prevent you from making your own decisions. We're both grown-ups, Ji, we know how to make things work," he checks his watch, "And speaking of work, I'm about to run late. Early board meeting."
Youngji sees him to the door, helping him with his coat and scarf. "We'll talk about the details of your business trip later when you get home, alright? Bye, honey. Have fun today!" She waves goodbye from their doorstep, pulling her bathrobe tighter around herself.
Jackson looks back, an eyebrow raised and car keys in hand. "I'm going to work," he deadpans, "not to daycare."
Youngji just laughs.
--
In retrospect, maybe writing a book is too much of a good thing. When Youngji had called her parents to inform them about her decision, her father had insisted that he oversee her progress (even though he's absolutely got less proficiency than she has) and her mother had cried over the phone, telling her how thankful she was that Youngji finally had the time to make something for herself; Youngji honestly did not know where that sentiment came from, but she thanked them, nonetheless - of course, with the assurance that they get a special mention in the book (she meant it as a joke, but she isn't so sure now).
Next, her older brothers - Joon, Seho and Dongwook had (loudly) cried out "Our baby sister is all grown up!" in perfect chorus the moment she told them (she shouldn't have used a conference call, damn it), that even if she had to pull her phone away from her ear and held it at arm's length, she could still hear them blubbering about how mature she has been these past few years. "I have been mature ever since we were kids, you just refuse to acknowledge that because I'm your pretty little dongsaeng," Youngji giggles.
She doesn't miss the sputtered protests of her brothers spew out: "Don't refer to yourself as little, because what does that make me?" (Seho), "Pretty? Don't make me laugh!" (Dongwook), and "You nasty girl!" (Joon). Of course.
Even her friends from university were ecstatic upon finding out. "I didn't know that you took those GE classes with Ms. Bae seriously," Nana laughed at her as she stirred the sugar into her coffee. Beside her, Gookju and Sunny nod in tandem. "I mean, we all pegged you to be this smart science girl who loves facts rather than fiction."
"Nah, the sciences actually weren't my forte, to be honest," Youngji laughs. "I guess I just want to give it a try, after all these years."
"Then who's stopping you?"
--
Jackson can't believe what he's seeing. He just can't.
"JR?" Said man looks up from where he's sitting, pen in hand poised over a stack of papers on the table. He tilts his head in confusion, before opening his mouth to form a small 'o'. "Jackson?"
Park JR (real name Jinyoung) was one of Jackson and Youngji's regular classmates since they entered high school. Slicked back hair, crooked grin, plump lips; those were just some of the terms used when one was to describe JR. The nickname came from one of their teachers, Park Jinyoung, who also served as the student council adviser; JR was a popular guy not because he's the leader of their high school's well-loved dance crew, but also because he served as the student council's treasurer. While Jackson was popular because he was the resident school jock, JR was popular because he was the all-around guy.
"JR, my man! How have you been?" Jackson laughs and moves forward to envelope him into a bear hug. "It's been so long, dude!" He pulls back and looks at the other from top to bottom. "What happened to the cool guy facade, huh?"
"Cool guy me decided to stop being cool and chose to major in Literature during university," the man chuckles and makes to adjust his glasses atop the bridge of his nose. "And I go by Jinyoung now, by the way."
"Jinyoung, huh? Like Park Jinyoung of 'History and Government of Korea' way back in high school? JR senior?" Jackson guffaws as JR - Jinyoung - makes a face similar to someone who wants to sock him square in the face. "I'm kidding! Mind if I join you?"
"Nah." Jinyoung gestures to the seat across him. "Go ahead."
--
"He's an editor for a publishing company now. Would you believe that?" Jackson tells Youngji over dinner that night. Youngji only nods absentmindedly, toying with her pasta. "Youngji, babe, what's wrong?"
"Ah, yeah, I'm good," Youngji smiles, but it dissolves into a sigh and she slumps down on her seat as Jackson gives her his Don't You Lie To Me look. "I know I'm not the only one who's excited about this book, but what I'm worrying about right now is that I don't have a publisher. And I need someone to proofread my work, too! This is taking so much time."
Jackson laughs. "Weren't you listening to what I was saying earlier?" When all Youngji gives him is a confused look, he laughs. "JR from high school is now an editor. I took the liberty of introducing him to your idea and he's all game. Wait a sec," he says, and all but runs to their room. When he emerges, he's carrying a call card; he tosses the small paper into Youngji's waiting hands (thankfully, it didn't go anywhere near the food). "That's his number; he says he's ready to talk to you anytime you want."
Jackson doesn't get much of a reprieve, because suddenly Youngji is over him, peppering him with kisses and crushing him into a hug and saying thank you thank you thank you like a mantra. She smells distinctly like her body wash and pesto (Jackson inwardly cringes at the last one), but he allows it anyway.
--
It's all smooth-sailing after that. Youngji and Jinyoung (who insists that they stop calling him by his high school moniker) meet up regularly at their apartment on Monday, Thursday, and Friday nights; although Jinyoung was a bit hesitant to be stepping into personal space - of a married couple at that ("You guys actually married each other?" "Yeah, what's wrong?" "I'm honestly more impressed with Youngji that she's managed to put up with you for so long." "Hey!") - Jackson and Youngji had profusely assured him that it was fine, he was an old friend, he was welcome anytime.
Anytime it is. The first time Jinyoung had slept in was when Jackson let out a stream of curses the moment he stepped into the apartment. "Shit, I'm pretty sure those are rocks pelting down outside. Stay the night, dude, I don't think this'll let up anytime soon." He was given Jackson's extra clothes to change into, and the guest bedroom all his (for the night, that is). And although Jinyoung honestly didn't plan it to be that way, waking up to the smell of coffee and eggs wafting up into his room and hearing the couple's childish banter as soon as he steps into the kitchen certainly beats waking up to cold sheets and the smell of his dog's poop in the hallway. JInyoung had hoped it was only a one-time thing.
It wasn't.
By now, he has lost track of how many times he had slept at the tandem's apartment; Jinyoung's pretty sure himself that the toothbrush he's been using in the bathroom is the exact same one he had haphazardly bought from the downstairs convenience store (Seocho apartments have everything, he muses) the first night, albeit with only a covering for the head now, probably to keep bacteria away. It's always the same red towel they give to him for whenever he stays, dry-cleaned and smelling a lot like lavender and lemons. And he finds it odd how Jackson always takes his coffee black (Youngji drinks decaf), yet they have powdered cream stashed in their cupboards.
Youngji's also taken a habit of baking muffins for him and Jackson every Wednesday; lemon poppyseed, his favorite, and mint chocolate, Jackson's. He also notices how she affectionately pats his head in between manuscript discussions, or how Jackson sends the most ridiculous Snapchat photos even when he's in the middle of work; how Jackson stops by at his office and leaves blonde roast coffee (Starbucks, at that, and his favorite; how did he know?) at the reception. It's also been an unspoken agreement between the two men to help Youngji in any way possible; Jinyoung's in charge of the Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule, and Jackson's in charge of the rest. It's become a regular occurrence for Jinyoung to open his email and find out that youngji's done with chptr 26, youngji's done this again, youngji is sleeping over her manuscript right now wht do i do. Jinyoung's afraid, afraid he's hovering over dangerous territory, that he's about to cross forbidden lines.
That sentiment only solidifies when he enters the apartment on a Friday night and finds Jackson lounging on the couch, wearing his shirt. Jinyoung's shirt. Since when did I even leave my things around here?
The real question is: why aren't they complaining?
--
"She's almost done! Just a few more revisions and she's good to go," JInyoung claps in glee and proceeds to stretch his body after four long hours of editing and coercing Youngji into writing the final chapter. Jackson looks up from where he's sitting at the kitchen island, chuckling as the other winces when he strains his right shoulder muscle a bit too much. He stands and heads over to the coffee maker, helping himself to another mug.
Jinyoung isn't prepared for the mug to be placed beside him, and for warm calloused hands to massage the part where he's feeling a lot more stiffness than he normally does. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you a massage, of course."
"No, I mean - just - stop!" Jinyoung scrambles away, suddenly feeling like his heart's being constricted inside his chest. He hovers over the sink, opening the tap and running shaking hands under the cold water. Jinyoung splashes some onto his face for good measure. "Just - please stop, whatever this is you guys are doing."
"What exactly are we doing, Jinyoung?" Youngji appears by the doorway, toweling her wet hair dry.
He doesn't know what made him do it, but JInyoung lashes out, full force. "This! This eerily domestic setting! Why are you guys including me into this? You," he points at Jackson, "make it seem so easy to just bring me coffee every single day, or make it look completely normal when you wear my clothes in your apartment! And you," he looks at Youngji, "why are you so affectionate with me? Why include me into the party when you bake? Why make sure I get home safe and sound?"
"This has to stop. Please. I'm just your editor, your high school friend, nothing more, nothing less. I'm not about to become a homewrecker, okay? So please, just stop this," Jinyoung gestures wildly in the air, "whatever this is." He slumps down on a nearby chair and cradles his face in his hands, making a valiant attempt to not break down.
He misses the look that Jackson and Youngji exchange.
"Did it ever occur to you," Youngji says, "that we were doing this because we loved you?"
"What." There he goes, being all articulate. Wait, back up - they love him? How is that even possible?
Jinyoung hears Jackson sigh, and it sounds so sad and distant, so unlike Jackson, that he has to look up. He isn't prepared for the both of them to be looking at him with somber expressions. "We haven't really, um, done this before," Jackson starts, and Jinyoung notices him wringing his hands in an unsure way, a habit he has when he's nervous (since when did he even notice that?), "this whole polyamory thing."
"Youngji and I, we've been together for so long; I trust you know that. We've known each other for so long that we don't care whether the other has bad breath in the morning, or if someone takes the toilet paper from the dispenser, or if someone misplaces the remote control. We're perfectly normal, as a couple and partnership-wise." Youngji comes over and brushes hands over Jackson's, and Jinyoung's heart unexpectedly swells at the sight. "Until you came along."
Indignance surges up, and Jinyoung finds himself almost baring his teeth at the two. "Now what? It's my fault now?"
"He didn't mean that," Youngji interjects, but Jackson squeezes her hand, as if telling her to calm down.
"Like Youngji said, I didn't mean it that way. What I meant was, you come waltzing into our lives when we least expected it, and we unconsciously bent ourselves to accommodate you. Like you were meant to be here in the first place. At first, I thought it was perfectly normal, our lives trying to incorporate a new friend into us. I'm not saying this as a bad thing," he repeats again when he sees Jinyoung's shoulders tense. "But then Youngji fell in love with you."
Jinyoung's jaw drops open, and his gaze snaps from Jackson to Youngji, who's smiling at him and nodding bashfully. "What?" He manages to croak out (probably the only one he will in a long time).
"And I honestly thought I'd get mad, or even jealous, that my wife managed to fall in love with someone else other than me even though we were married," Jackson looks at him straight in the eyes. "But I can't. Rather, my heart wouldn't allow me to do so."
"But with Youngji and I married, and Youngji loving you, and I know you've felt attracted to her even just once, this equation is broken. And I can't force you into this, Jinyoung, but what we're trying to say is: we come in a set. You don't take her unless you take me too. And I know it's going to be awkward, being guys, but I want to take care of you, too. I want us to take care of Youngji, help her and support her with whatever decision she makes." Jackson pauses, taking a deep breath, "We're technically not married, the three of us - and I doubt anyone would allow that - but I think we could make this work, if only we do this together."
"The question is, Jinyoung," Youngji pipes up; Jinyoung's almost forgotten that she's also here. "Do you love us back?"
Jinyoung shrugs. "Maybe?"
"There are no halfsies in this, Jinyoung. It's a yes or a no."
It takes him time, but Jinyoung finally gets the strength to stand up. "And I'm not exactly saying that I hate you guys, nor am I saying I love you back yet, but just. Give me time, please?" He smiles wanly at them, and that's what he is, tired and processing too many things inside his head that he feels it's gonna implode anytime soon. "I - deep inside, I guess - I want this to work out, too."
Jinyoung doesn't think the smiles on Jackson and Youngji's faces can get any brighter.
--
It takes work, Jinyoung warming up to them and Jackson and Youngji trying to fit him in, but they think it's worth it.
Jinyoung's long since moved into the apartment at Jackson's insistence, hauling even his ancient typewriter into the guest room ("I tell you, it's not a guest room anymore; I guess our friends will be sleeping on the couch when they come visit, then?") and subtly placing in some of his things permanently: slippers and shoes in the foyer, an abstract painting on one of the bare walls in the living room, his microwaveable ware inside the kitchen cabinets.
They go back to their usual routines, and also add new ones: leaving for work at 7:30 in the morning, take turns in paying for the groceries, splitting the bill when they eat out - but this time, Youngji is allowed to crowd the both of them into the kitchen counter as they eat breakfast, her spoon taking turns in hitting their foreheads so they fully wake up; Jackson and Jinyoung find it a lot easier to just share suits and work clothes, since they're of the same size, and what's there to complain about?
They're not sure where this setup will lead them, but all they know now is that they have to enjoy each other's company. And while Jinyoung's guest room is abandoned for cuddling with the both of them in their king-sized bed (how they fit it in the room, he had no idea), Jackson's light snoring and Youngji's breath fanning over his bare arm as he's squeezed in the middle, Jinyoung thinks it's high time he say those four words that have been itching to be let known.
I love you both.
[readers, don't forget to leave a comment! anonymous is on if you're shy.]