Torched [ikon; b.i/jinhwan]

Apr 18, 2015 20:44

Torched
b.i/jinhwan
pg-13, 6800 words
Hanbin isn’t the best with words, Jinhwan takes a while to catch up, and three years is a long time.



(happy birthday dicktouch!!! i’m sorry i’m such a terrible friend and that you basically beta-d the first 500 words of what is your birthday fic... and i’m sorry that this isn’t the jinhwan a/b/o bukkake fic you want so desperately. i’ll do better in the future ;; lots of liberties in regards to actual canon were taken. also a huge thank you to concordances for beta-ing and stopping me from just hitting hanbin with a car, you have suffered the most.)

There isn’t much Jinhwan and Hanbin keep from Bobby. Largely because Bobby is always there, either physically as an extremely loud presence, or at the back of their minds whenever Jinhwan and Hanbin do manage to get some time alone. It’s not a big deal, neither of them care. It’s not like they know any other way of existing anyway.

There’s this one thing though, that Jinhwan knows Hanbin wants to keep between the two of them. It’s nothing outlandish or particularly mortifying, but the first time Jinhwan had tried to bring it up as a funny anecdote, Hanbin had begun what was looking to be a slow transformation into a tomato, and Jinhwan had swerved the story into something else. Personally, Jinhwan doesn’t think it’s that embarrassing. But the story of your first real crush, or whatever, is either something you want to laugh about until it doesn’t feel like your own story anymore, or something you hold so close that no one else can touch it. For Hanbin, who’s been allowed little privilege in the way of fostering personal relationships, it makes sense that it’s the latter.

1.

When Jinhwan had first met him, Hanbin had been fourteen, and for the first few months, the same height as Jinhwan. Although the role of “leader” fits Hanbin like a second skin now, growing into it had been a process of much trial, error, silent tantrums, and gentle coaxing. The last bit had been mostly left up to Jinhwan. In the small space of time before Hanbin, Bobby, and Jinhwan became a co-dependent unit, not everyone was as easily resigned to the idea of taking orders from 160 centimetres of tempestuous hormones and blotchy emotions. As a result, more often than not, it was Jinhwan sitting waiting in the practice room for Hanbin to inevitably shuffle in with his head down.

“You okay?” Jinhwan asks, when Hanbin softly closes the door behind him.

He doesn’t think Hanbin really trusts him yet. He always looks like he’s halfway between offended and hesitant whenever Jinhwan implies, through words or actions, that maybe Hanbin is a little bit misguided in carrying the world on his shoulders. Still, Jinhwan knows Hanbin likes him more than he does the other boys, which is why he offers Jinhwan a nod instead of huffing and pretending he hadn't just thrown a fit and spent the last half an hour in the boys bathroom stall.

"What's the matter?" Jinhwan tries.

"Nothing, they were just teasing me about stupid things," Hanbin grumbles.

“Stupid things?” Jinhwan asks, and Hanbin nods.

Jinhwan can’t help but wonder what stupid refers to in this case, because although the blush that’s beginning to spread on Hanbin’s face is impressive, it doesn’t tell Jinhwan much at all. He doesn’t have to resort to playing any guessing games though, because Hanbin’s next question helps fill in most of the blanks all too well.

“Can you kiss me?” Hanbin blurts out. “Just so I can get my first kiss over and done with.”

Jinhwan blinks, has to try very hard not to laugh because he knows how well Hanbin will take it (that is, not at all). He doesn’t want it to come off like he thinks the notion of never having been kissed at the age of fourteen is hilarious -- but being propositioned by a fourteen-year-old who’d never been kissed is pretty hysterical. In every sense of the word.

“Look, Hanbin,” Jinhwan starts. Hanbin pushes his snapback lower over his face, the shadow of the brim obscuring his expression.

“This is stupid,” Hanbin mutters, moving to stand up. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, hyung.”

“Wait!” Jinhwan shoots his arm out to catch Hanbin by the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling him back down onto the floor. “It’s not stupid, I just…”

He could do it, Jinhwan realises. He could just kiss Hanbin. There’s really no harm in it, and Jinhwan isn’t sure why it feels like every cell inside of him is protesting.

“You should… have your first kiss with someone else,” is what Jinhwan resolves.

Hanbin stares Jinhwan down dubiously. “With someone I love,” he drawls.

Jinhwan shakes his head. “No, just someone else. Not someone you’re training to debut in a boy band with.”

Jinhwan is certain Hanbin hasn’t forgotten exactly, but from the way the way Hanbin’s cheeks flare up, he’s pretty sure the actual implications slipped his memory.

“That’s a good point,” Hanbin concedes, a little childishly, and Jinhwan grins. It doesn’t really affect him personally, but he still gets a fair amount of satisfaction watching Hanbin occasionally lapse into acting his age.

It takes another ten minutes to try and talk Hanbin out of staying back and practicing until one AM, and then Jinhwan is turning off the lights and making sure nothing is left behind in the practice room. Hanbin is sulking outside when Jinhwan meets him, and he follows beside Jinhwan on the walk back to the dorms.

Jinhwan notices, with no amount of surprise, that Hanbin is taller than him now, and is in the middle of reconciling himself with this fact when Hanbin speaks again.

“Did you like the person you had your first kiss with?”

“Um,” Jinhwan ruminates over this for a second. Honestly speaking, not really. He’d gotten it over and done with during a game of spin the bottle, and after she’d laid one on him, she’d very pointedly looked towards the back of the room, where one of their older classmates stood eyeing them scornfully. Needless to say, the aftermath was more memorable than the actual kiss. Still, Hanbin is a nice kid, and Jinhwan wants his first kiss to be extra nice.

“Yes, it was. I liked her a lot.” It’s a small white lie, it can’t hurt. At the very least it’ll stop Hanbin from trying to advance to their other teammates, who Jinhwan doesn’t count on to be as empathetic. “I know you think it’s lame and dumb, but wait until you like someone. A first crush is a nicer story than a random hyung you trained with.”

Hanbin mumbles something incomprehensible, and Jinhwan stops. “Sorry?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

Hanbin shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll keep your wise words in mind, hyung,” he says, sounding a little petulant. He quickens his pace and, thanks to legs that are already longer than Jinhwan’s, is far ahead of Jinhwan before Jinhwan can even process what’s going on.

“Kids,” Jinhwan mutters, running to catch up.

2.

Rules are made to be broken, is what some of the more callous older trainees said to Jinhwan when he first joined.

Jinhwan doesn't completely agree, but he does like to weigh rules by their individual worth rather than blindly following everything a la Hanbin. For example, plagiarising music is technically illegal, and Jinhwan should probably feel more strongly against it considering his chosen career path. But right now he's not the one losing money, and it's difficult to muster the will to buy things legally when he thinks about his trainee debt. Most trainees treat the dating ban similarly. Technically they shouldn't, but honestly, who really cares?

Hanbin does, apparently, because he gives Jinhwan an intensely disapproving look when Jinhwan comes to practice the next day sporting an obvious hickey. Bobby on the other hand, whoops like Jinhwan had gotten laid for the both of them last night, and raises his hand for a high five, which Jinhwan ignores in favour of giving Hanbin a reassuring grin.

Hanbin looks apprehensive, but he returns Jinhwan's smile with a weak one of his own before turning towards the laptop to pull up a choreography video. Jinhwan turns to Bobby and mouths what, and Bobby shrugs before moving into Jinhwan's space and trying to blow over the bruise on his neck, climbing on top of Jinhwan like an overexcited labrador. Jinhwan puts up a futile attempt at resistance to appease Bobby, and it's the burst of sound from the speaker that has both of them rolling away from each other clutching their heads.

"What the fuck," Bobby swears, massaging his ears with a pinky.

"Sorry," Hanbin mutters, not looking very apologetic at all.

Jinhwan understands that Hanbin has a lot riding on debuting within YG. After all, he basically grew up here. Jinhwan's been training how to sing and dance. Hanbin's been moulded, shaped, and scolded to become Yang CEO’s new pride. It’s too much pressure for a kid to take, and sometimes misdirected anger is a thing that happens, and Jinhwan is used to accepting it in it’s rawest form. Still, there’s a limit. Jinhwan is only human too.

Hanbin stops Jinhwan for the fourth time, and he's beyond the point of being able to take the criticism graciously. He closes his eyes, thinks of Jeju, thinks of every single audition number he's been labelled with ever since he came to Seoul, thinks of the overcompensating fourteen-year-old boy he met on his first day here, and when he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding, he gives Hanbin an amiable smile and asks, "Was it my footwork again? Sorry."

Hanbin blinks, but before he can answer, Bobby interrupts. "You were fine, hyung. Hanbin, you need to get some more sleep, you're seeing things."

Jinhwan doesn't know if Bobby is just oblivious, or doing it on purpose, but it doesn't matter because Hanbin goes steely and turns away from both of them. "It's not the footwork, you don't... you don't look into it."

"Sorry," Jinhwan says incredulously.

"Your head isn't in the game hyung," Hanbin snaps, "if you aren't in it all the way, just don't bother."

Jinhwan takes a deep breath. "Can I politely disagree?" he asks.

Hanbin ignores him. "I know you're not thinking about the choreography," he says with an enormous amount of unfounded confidence, "I can tell."

"What the hell," Bobby says, "how can you tell?" The hilarious thing is it's a genuine question, and Jinhwan wants to laugh to break the tension, but unfortunately he doesn't miss the way Hanbin's eyes flicker to his neck.

He drops it for now. Hanbin doesn't bother badgering Jinhwan for the rest of practice, too busy rebuffing Bobby who keeps asking Hanbin what he's thinking about every other moment. When they're done, Hanbin stays back to work out some kinks in their routine. Jinhwan is at the exit when he tells Bobby to head off without him, and he doubles back towards the practice room.

Hanbin jumps when Jinhwan slams open the door.

"Stop it," Jinhwan says, "if you have something to say, then just say it."

When it comes to practice, Hanbin takes the lead, and Jinhwan is more than happy to bow his head and listen to him. In regards to things like personal matters however, it doesn't matter how much baggage Hanbin is carrying, he's still a fifteen-year-old know-it-all, and Jinhwan doesn't appreciate the judgement.

Hanbin looks nervous, and Jinhwan feels bad for about a second, until he feels annoyed again. "Listen, the world isn't black and white. You can be fourteen and I'll still be happy to listen to you and call you leader. I can date and still be completely serious about this, okay?"

"I never said you couldn't," Hanbin retorts. His fingers tense on the armrest, and Jinhwan moves so he's blocking the entrance.

“I know you aren’t this dense,” Jinhwan accuses. “If you want to deal with things in the worst way possible, then at least own up to it.”

Jinhwan knows Hanbin well, so he doesn’t wait for an apology before he walks out the room.

He never tells Hanbin he breaks up with her. He does tell Bobby though, who throws himself back on the bed and groans. "Her friends were so fucking hot, though. This is so unfair, you were all we had, hyung. You were the last bastion."

Jinhwan snorts and throws a pillow at Bobby before walking out of the room. He runs into Hanbin in the hallway, who's about to do some complicated manoeuvre to avoid him, until Jinhwan grabs his wrist and pulls him back.

Trying to make eye contact with Hanbin is a hopeless endeavour. And it’s close to a miracle that Hanbin doesn’t fight Jinhwan’s hold, considering how the hunch of his shoulders scream that he'd rather be anywhere else.

Jinhwan wields the power to make this as painful as possible for Hanbin, and maybe one day he'll use it. Today he interlocks their fingers together and says "Want to get some ramen with me?"

Hanbin isn't good at apologising. Luckily, Jinhwan doesn't mind doing it for him.

Hanbin is silent, looking down at their hands and swinging them to the side tentatively. "Can we... can we stay in and watch a movie or something?" he asks.

Jinhwan smiles, brings Hanbin’s arm around to drape over his shoulder, moving himself into Hanbin’s space. “Sure,” he says. “But I get to choose.”

3.

Jinhwan has seen too many people come and leave to carry any particular amount of hope for the new trainees that are ushered into the practice room. The first one, Koo Junhwe, looks like he's prepared to go to war or something, and his lip curls up when Bobby claps him on the shoulder and says "Take a fucking chill pill." Jinhwan wouldn't phrase it like that, and doesn't phrase it like that when he talks to Junhwe one-on-one for the first time after practice. But Bobby does have a point.

The second one, Song Yunhyeong, sings a short, completely out of tune sample for them, and Jinhwan has to hold onto the bench to not instinctively flinch away. Hanbin is in a similar position beside him, hand over his mouth, assessing Yunhyeong carefully. Bobby doesn't bother with pretenses and goes "Can you dance at least?"

Junhwe guffaws, and alright, Jinhwan needs to talk to him about that later. Right now though, he's looking at Hanbin, who stands up a little too dramatically and claps his hands together. "Alright." He turns towards Jinhwan and Bobby. "I'm going to take Yunhyeong to the studio. Can you two show Junhwe what we have of the choreography thus far?"

“Sure,” Bobby says. He moves closer to Junhwe, who looks alarmed when Bobby looks like he might put an arm around his shoulder. Instead Bobby punches him lightly, and flops sideways onto Jinhwan’s lap, looking up at Junhwe and grinning boyishly. “I’ve always wanted an actual maknae!” he announces.

It’s maybe a little too early to tell, but Jinhwan looks at the defensive square of Junhwe’s frame, and scrawls it down as Famous Last Words.

Junhwe is kind of fascinating to watch. He reminds Jinhwan a little bit of Hanbin when he first joined. Young, desperate to prove himself, painfully trying to be something he's not yet. Jinhwan's pretty fond of the kid, and only 15% of that fondness is attributed to the amusement he feels when Junhwe regards everything Bobby does with thinly veiled disdain. Bobby’s a fairly determined guy, but he seems at loss when faced with the reality of someone not liking him on first meeting. As such, it doesn’t take long until Bobby resigns himself to simply playing ”cool teacher” instead of ”cool hyung”, and lets Jinhwan deal with the task of actually personally bonding with the “failed maknae” (as Bobby calls him in private, behind Junhwe’s back. And once to Junhwe by accident).

For the first few weeks Hanbin has Yunhyeong stuck in back-to-back dance practice sessions, and the only time he lets up is when Jinhwan tells Hanbin, "He has to learn to sing you know." Yunhyeong is older, and so Jinhwan is pleasantly surprised that he seems to take Hanbin's pedanticness and penchant for being a bit of a robot in good stride. Hanbin seems to be pleasantly surprised too, because Jinhwan finds them sitting at the back of the trainee building one day, eating snacks. This might be a simple facet of a "lunch break" to other people, but with Hanbin, it's essentially an initiation into the inner circle.

“Good for Hanbin,” Bobby says. “I’m glad he’s making friends. I can’t do all the work, can I?”

Bobby, Jinhwan, and Junhwe are sitting on a small table outside a convenience store eating ramen. It’s the sad story of Jinhwan and Bobby’s life that they see this as a luxury, and also that Junhwe hadn’t looked nearly as excited when Bobby had dragged them both out of the gloomy trainee building yelling ”RAMYUN!”.

"Holy shit,” Bobby says, gaping at Junhwe, who’s already inhaled half of his bowl. “Fuck, you eat so much.”

Well, partly the reason why.

“He means it in a good way,” Jinhwan clarifies when he sees the guilt creeping up Junhwe’s face. Bobby nods brightly.

Yunhyeong and Hanbin aren’t with them for lunch, because Yunhyeong had kept running out of breath during his solo for the monthly evaluation. Hanbin had refused to leave the practice room until Yunhyeong could sing the line walking on his hands -- this was the benchmark he had set, and he wouldn’t budge. Knowing that Junhwe tends to calculate his Personal Best through relativity is what gave Bobby enough momentum to grab Jinhwan and Junhwe both, and hightail out of there before the latter resolved to make Hanbin’s overcompensation his new yardstick. Last Jinhwan had seen before Bobby dragged him out of the door, Yunhyeong was facing Hanbin asking easily where to start, and Hanbin looked surprised enough that Jinhwan couldn’t help wondering if it was a sort of test.

“It’s like he holds daily friendship evaluations,” Bobby summarises, shaking his head. “Our Hanbin is going places.”

“I see the benefit,” Junhwe chimes. “How much easier would life be if you could weed out annoying people before they become an actual problem.” Jinhwan swipes a hand down Junhwe’s face when it looks like he’s about to turn his eyes in a particular direction.

“You know what, Junhwe,” Bobby says approvingly, “you have a point.”

Jinhwan sighs.

Jinhwan is only a too long blink away from falling asleep on his feet when practice ends, and as such doesn’t manage to draw enough energy to be surprised when he finds Yunhyeong waiting for him outside. There’s nothing particularly extraordinary about the gesture in of itself, but as they’re walking next to each other making sluggish small talk over the cafeteria food, Jinhwan realises that it’s the first time he’s really been alone with Yunhyeong. Usually Yunhyeong doesn't stay back for him, either leaving at a reasonable time like Junhwe, or being forced to practice until three in the morning by Hanbin.

Jinhwan would write it off, but Yunhyeong’s next words are so obviously premeditated that Jinhwan can’t help the suspicion that curls into his expression.

“So, you’re really close with Hanbin right?”

The question is abrupt enough that it makes Jinhwan less sleepy, but leaves him confused enough to make up for it. “Well, yes? Obviously?”

Yunhyeong nods, then hums a small, actually in tune, song under his breath like they’re strolling through a park. Jinhwan eyes him cautiously. He had to go through enough tests as a trainee, and isn’t very appreciative of the one he feels like he’s taking now.

Yunhyeong notices and cocks his head to the side. “Yes?”

“I’m really close to Hanbin,” Jinhwan repeats, “so what was your question?”

Yunhyeong shrugs. “I just want to know how you feel about him. I mean, he’s pretty harsh, it couldn’t have been easy warming up to him the first time.”

“It was okay,” Jinhwan answers hesitantly, “he’s a good kid, and easy to figure out once you’re used to him.” It definitely hadn’t been Bobby and Junhwe levels of magnetic repulsion, at the very least.

“And you would say…” Yunhyeong begins. They’ve stopped walking, Jinhwan looking up at Yunhyeong with his arms crossed, and Yunhyeong leaning easily against the side of a building. “You would say you’re definitely used to him?”

“That’s what I said,” Jinhwan confirms.

“In a bad way?” Yunhyeong asks again.

“What? No? How do you get used to someone in a bad way, we aren’t dating!” Jinhwan exclaims, creasing his forehead

Yunhyeong moves forward, a bit too excited. “Why are you bringing up dating Hanbin?” he asks. “Have you thought about it before?”

Jinhwan blinks at Yunhyeong, mouth agape. “This conversation is a mess,” he decides, shaking his head. He turns around and strides forward briskly, leaves Yunhyeong behind to jog and try and catch up with him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Yunhyeong apologises, putting a hand on Jinhwan’s shoulder to slow him down. “I was just trying to joke around.”

Jinhwan shakes his head, still looking ahead. “I think all the long practice sessions with Hanbin have broken--” The penny finally drops, and Jinhwan pushes a palm against Yunhyeong’s chest, halting him in place.

“Did Hanbin put you up to this?” he accuses.

There’s a split second of panic that flashes across Yunhyeong’s face, before it settles into something more neutral. Yunhyeong is a good actor, but that’s futile against Jinhwan’s carefully honed bullshit detector. “No,” Yunhyeong replies.

Jinhwan scoffs, and his mouth twists into a bitter smirk. “I fucking knew it.”

Yunhyeong raises his hands. “Listen-”

“I can’t believe him,” Jinhwan spits. “I thought he got over himself a year ago. He still doesn’t trust me to know my priorities.”

“I offered first, he really likes-- wait, what?”

Jinhwan scoots into Yunhyeong’s space. “You can go tell Hanbin that if he wants to rehash this done and dusted argument, then he can do it himself, not get a minion to do it.”

Yunhyeong raises an eyebrow. “I’m… not his minion?”

“Even if I was dating,” Jinhwan continues. “Which I’m not, I would never jeapordise something we’re all working so hard for. Got that?” he punctuates the last two words with sharp jabs of his finger to Yunhyeong’s stomach.

“Got it,” Yunhyeong squeaks.

Jinhwan lets out a puff of air, and looks up at the sky. “Unbelievable,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

Yunhyeong is looking at Jinhwan with a great amount of relief. Jinhwan knows he’s scary when he’s angry, but he doesn’t want people to be scared of angering him -- it’s not productive towards healthy communication, so he puts on his trademark Reassuring Smile and pats Yunhyeong’s arm.

Yunhyeong smiles back at him tightly. “Completely unbelievable,” he agrees.

4.

The biggest mistake Jinhwan makes as the eldest during The Cycle of Pain AKA: 100 Days of Hell AKA: Fuck YG AKA: WIN: Who Is Next, is making the six of them sit down the day before they’re due to receive their final mission, and marathon all the episodes broadcasted thus far back to back.

It’s one thing to know, via script and camera cues, that you’re probably going to get more screentime than others, but it’s another thing to actually watch it on unfold, see what everyone else is seeing. Bobby looks the best out of all of them, and it’s not just because of any editing either, his real life likeability can’t be dulled by any lense. Hanbin comes across as prickly and stunted and volatile, and Jinhwan wants to tell him it isn’t true, it isn’t him -- but they all carry the evidence in the bags under their eyes, of how badly Hanbin had crumpled under the pressure.

Still, at least he exists.

Jinhwan grabs the remote to turn the screen off, and then they’re left staring back at their cold, dark reflections.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jinhwan says. He reaches down to pat Junhwe, who’s sitting in front of him, on the shoulder. “Our hard work really came through, and we performed really well.”

Junhwe shrugs his hand off. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Junhwe,” Donghyuk reprimands softly, picking at the armrest of the couch. Jinhwan thins his lips. He knows how to deal with basically the entire emotional spectrum, except for defeat. It’s useless.

“I’m being serious!” Junhwe exclaims. “You wouldn’t think so from watching that.” He glares at the television, like the weight of his stare could somehow turn back time, and-- then what? What could they do, really?

“Why are you guys so sulky?” Bobby asks, jumping up from where he was lounging on the floor and throwing himself into the middle of the group, so he’s sitting lazily on Jinhwan's lap, an arm each around Yunhyeong and Donghyuk, with his feet pressed against Junhwe’s back. “We did fucking awesome. Even with the editing we’re only like, two percent behind on audience votes. We can win this.”

Really, none of them have any choice but to believe what he says, but Bobby makes it easy. “Right,” Jinhwan pushes Bobby off him and squeezes all of their shoulders in succession. “Just focus on practicing for now. Fighting!”

“Hey, where did Hanbin go?” Yunhyeong asks, perking up from his seat.

“He left halfway through,” Bobby answers. “Whatever, just give him some time.” He says it looking at everyone, but Jinhwan can feel the request like Bobby’s voice was specifically lilting in his direction.

“I should have been the one saying that to you,” Jinhwan tells him later, when the other three have dispersed and it’s just the two of them staring at the television blankly.

“You’ll be happy to know that I actually have undergone some personal growth,” Bobby says proudly, puffing up his chest. “I’m not all just good looks.”

Jinhwan laughs, because he would under normal circumstances, and he wants to make somebody feel better.

Jinhwan takes Bobby’s advice for approximately three hours until the niggling weight at the back of his mind starts feeling more like a truck, and then he grabs his hat and keys, making haste for the trainee building.

He expects to find Hanbin in the studio, but the computer is off, though still warm. If Hanbin had successfully managed to funnel his self-blame into actual progress then there’d be scattered sheets of lyrics around the room, but there's just a post-it note stuck onto the monitor, signifying that little more than staring at the screen had been done.

Jinhwan checks the cafeteria, the boy’s bathroom, all the practice rooms, and then gives up. He finally walks back to their usual practice room, plants himself down, and prepares to wait.

Hanbin comes in half an hour later, but instead of entering sheepish and guilty like he usually does during one of his silent tantrums, he looks dejected. Something jumps in Jinhwan’s chest. “What’s wrong?” he asks, looking up from where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Hanbin sits down right in front of him, and although personal space is something Jinhwan forgot he had a right to, it feels too close.

“Sorry,” Hanbin apologises flatly.

“It’s fine,” Jinhwan says automatically. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I had it all wrong,” Hanbin groans, burying his face into his hands. There’s something stopping Jinhwan from moving in for a hug, like they’re on opposite sides of a glass window, and he has a feeling that all Hanbin wants from him right now is to listen.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Hanbin says, “There’s no point in working hard if nobody likes you.”

Jinhwan shakes his head. “Don’t be silly, we all like you, Sajangnim loves you, you’re set for life.”

Hanbin snorts. “Too bad you guys aren’t the ones voting, huh?”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, and I’m not just saying that to make you feel better,” Jinhwan says. “You acted a little high strung in front of the cameras, it happened, we can’t do anything about that now. The other team wasn’t any better -- they just had better editing. There’s no point sulking about it. We’re this close to the end, and what we need is you being high strung so that Yunhyeong’s voice doesn’t break on stage.”

It takes a lot of pride for Hanbin to take anyone’s advice without extraneous force, and so the tiny movement of his head that he does in acknowledgement feels like a small victory. Jinhwan grins and reaches over to rub Hanbin’s knee.

“You’re a good kid,” he says, moving to stand up. “Let’s go back, the others are worried about you.”

Hanbin hums. “Do you like me, hyung?”

Jinhwan fixes his hat. “Of course,” he assures absently, grabbing his keys off the floor. “You know that.”

Hanbin coughs. “No, I mean, do you like me?”

Jinhwan fumbles with the keys in his grip. “Sorry?”

Hanbin looks accepting, but it’s so painfully obvious how hard he’s trying to keep up that facade, that Jinhwan wants to grab his face and force it back into a frown.

“Never mind,” Hanbin says, “stupid question.” He gets up, dusting off his knees, and Jinhwan can’t do anything but stare at him in shock.

“No wait,” Jinhwan says, “Hanbin.” It must come out sterner than he meant it to, because Hanbin stiffens and looks rightly scolded when he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Hanbin,” Jinhwan tries again, more softly. “Do you like me?”

“Well, obviously,” Hanbin says, looking determinedly away from Jinhwan.

“Obviously?” Jinhwan emphasises.

“Yes, hyung, obviously,” Hanbin affirms. “To anyone who wants to see it, at least.”

Jinhwan bites his lip. “That’s unfair.”

“It’s not,” Hanbin defends. “I don’t- I don’t blame you hyung, or anything. I just, it’s driving me crazy not having you know. You don’t see it, but it was as clear as day to me just from watching myself on broadcast. I’m going to regret this so much tomorrow, but there’s too much inside me, and.” Hanbin swallows. Jinhwan waits for him to continue, but Hanbin’s apparently given up on words altogether.

“And don't worry about it,” Jinhwan picks up for him. “I mean- I can’t, do or return anything, or change the way I feel but, anything for you. Anything to make things easier for you. Just don’t worry, I'm glad you got it off your chest. It’ll be the same, you don’t have to think about it anymore after this. It's over.”

If Jinhwan had thought Hanbin looked despondent before, then he’s not prepared for how his face completely shuts down now.

“I’m sorry, Hanbin,” Jinhwan says. He doesn’t know why it feels like he’s the one that’s just been sucker punched in the gut. “That’s not what you wanted to hear.”

Hanbin half shrugs. “It’s what I expected.”

Jinhwan feels numb and empty, like there’s no blood flowing through his veins, just a faint buzzing inside of him instead of a heartbeat. “Do you want me to leave first, or?”

“No,” Hanbin answers. “I’ll go, I’ve been MIA long enough.”

Jinhwan looks down, watches himself spin his key around a finger casually as if his hands aren’t shaking, waiting intently for the practice room door to close. When Jinhwan hears the soft click he takes his snapback off and drops it to the floor.

He rubs his temples, it takes a few seconds to find the right word. “Fuck.”

5.

They’re so busy with practice, and over the years Hanbin has learnt how to effectively separate B.I from Kim Hanbin, and so it’s near impossible for Jinhwan to asses how bad the situation is with the endless hours of practice they’re putting in for the final match. Practice, practice, practice, and wedge in some time to eat and sleep if you can’t practice anymore. Once upon a time Jinhwan would be able to tell if Hanbin was miffed at him through passive aggressive jabs to his dancing, but now B.I stands in front of the large mirror, the way his eyes don’t linger any longer on Jinhwan than they have to the only indication that Kim Hanbin had had his heart stomped on by Jinhwan just a few days ago.

Jinhwan makes a T with his hands halfway through rehearsing 'Shake the World', and doesn’t wait for Hanbin’s approval before leaving the room and finding the nearest stairwell to collapse on. He peels his shirt off his skin, grimacing at the sweat, and flaps it to cool himself down. Someone takes a seat next to him, and then there’s cold water sliding down his back. It feels great, but Jinhwan is obliged to say “Don’t wet the stairs.”

Bobby laughs. “Did Mummy and Daddy have a fight?”

Jinhwan grimaces. “Please don’t.”

“I’m really asking!” Bobby insists. “Did you?”

“Kind of, but not really,” Jinhwan answers. “Either way, I promised I wouldn’t let it change the way I act around him, but evidently I’m doing a shitty job.”

Bobby barks out a laugh, throws an arm around Jinhwan’s shoulder to pull him close, and even though sweaty skin against sweaty skin is still a feeling Jinhwan hasn’t learnt to like, he takes it for the consolation that it is.

“You can’t take that on by yourself,” Bobby says, rubbing the crown of Jinhwan’s head with his knuckle. “You let people get away with too much.”

“Clearly,” Jinhwan grumbles, freeing himself from Bobby’s obnoxious comfort.

“You’re too nice to Hanbin,” Bobby continues. “You make the rest of us feel bad. Why won’t you love me as much?”

Of all things, that manages to lift Jinhwan’s mood. He snorts. “It’s all relative,” he explains. “The rest of you don’t need me to be as nice to you. If you treat everyone the same way then you end up with a relationship like yours and Junhwe’s.”

“You mean the Love Story of the Century?” Bobby nods in understanding.

Jinhwan grins. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“So if Hanbin was like, hey I’m going to ditch the team and become a nudist, you’d be like ’I will take on the burden of leading this band, I hope you find happiness with your new lifestyle.’?”

Jinhwan bursts out laughing. “What? No, that’s ridiculous. I’d talk to him and see why he feels the way he does. Try and talk him out of it, and you know if he still feels that way… I mean, what can I do? I could probably manage to force him to stay, but all I ever want is to make him happy and not miserable.”

“Alright,” Bobby says, leaning back on the stairs and looking up at Jinhwan challengingly. “What if he was like 'hyung, I’m in love with you, please accept my heart for I am forsaken by your existence.”

Jinhwan goes rigid. “What the hell is that?”

Bobby laughs, looking overly gleeful and oblivious at how Jinhwan’s insides are beginning to shrivel up. “I’m serious, what would you do?”

Jinhwan is ready to use his unimpressed glower to get Bobby to calm down the fuck down, until he starts to really think about it. Contemplates it long term, beyond the four walls of the practice room, beyond the cameras always trained on them, beyond anything tangible and into a vacuum where they’re just two insignificant kids and all Jinhwan knows is that Hanbin means a hell of a lot to him.

“I would…” Jinhwan inhales, looking forward towards the stretch of the hallway. Listens to the sound of Hanbin yelling at Donghyuk for messing up a move. “I haven’t really thought about it properly before…”

Bobby claps him roughly on the back, and Jinhwan almost chokes.

"I was just kidding, don’t think about Hanbin too much that way,” Bobby says, scrunching his nose. “It’ll just hurt your brain.”

Jinhwan smiles, lifts up his hands to ruffle Bobby’s hair affectionately. “Trust me, you have no idea.”

+1.

The thing is, B.I may be a product made through YG’s methodical trainee system at it’s best and most ruthless, but Hanbin as he is today is all Jinhwan’s own doing. It’s probably giving Jinhwan more credit than he really deserves, but he can’t help it. The amount of thought, consideration, and sacrifice he gives towards Hanbin is so immense, that it’s hard for Jinhwan to imagine anybody else trumping it. This is even though objectively he's aware that, Bobby and Hanbin are ride and die until the bitter end; that Yunhyeong thinks about Hanbin’s well being all the time while others forget Hanbin is even human; that Donghyuk thinks Hanbin not only hung the moon, but also the stars and sun, and probably moulded the Earth with his bare hands; that at the core of it, even if Junhwe likes Jinhwan more, he probably relates most to Hanbin out of everyone in the band.

It’s just, Jinhwan always thinks back to the fourteen year old Hanbin who'd look at Jinhwan guardedly from beneath his snapback, and has trouble believing anyone else holds Hanbin as dearly as Jinhwan does. In retrospect, maybe that should have been Jinhwan’s first clue.

Still, the band comes first, and even with the bitter practice room memory usurped, Hanbin manages to get them through perfecting all three sets of their final stage with minimal fuss. God knows how hard it must be for Hanbin to successfully compartmentalise things, Jinhwan doesn’t need to go in and throw a wrench into the tremulous jenga tower that is Hanbin's emotional stability.

It’s the night of the finale, and they’ve just finished performing 'Just Another Boy'. It’s simultaneously the worst and best possible time for Jinhwan to do what he’s about to do. The worst, because the cocktail of emotions in his stomach is both sickly sweet and bitingly sour, and any more stress on top of that and Jinhwan might just hurl. The best, because the thrill of the performance is still running through his veins, and he’s basically getting through the entire night, the knowledge that this is their last chance, through sheer momentum. And on top of courage, what Jinhwan needs right now is momentum unobstructed.

They're due to perform 'Climax' in about fifteen minutes, and Jinhwan finds Hanbin at the back where all the monitor screens are located. Hanbin isn’t looking towards them though, he’s pacing in a circle and when he finally notices Jinhwan, awkwardly stops in the middle of the floor.

“Hyung,” he says. “Um, tell them I’ll be there in two minutes I just need… some time for myself.”

“They know,” Jinhwan says, walking forward carefully. Hanbin looks good in a suit, has a nice frame that’s lost under all the low, loose shorts, and baggy hoodies he likes wearing.

Hanbin rubs his hands down his pants. “Oh,” he looks around inconspicuously for an escape, and Jinhwan rolls his eyes. He strolls right into Hanbin’s space with a confidence he doesn’t feel, until he bumps chests with him.

“Hyung?” Hanbin asks, slightly fearful.

Jinhwan looks up at him, lets the fondness overtake his nerves for the moment. “Why do you always have to cause me so much stress?” he asks, before reaching up to place a hand on the back of Hanbin’s head and pulling him down for a kiss.

Hanbin’s lips are sticky with lipgloss, and his hair is hardened with gel. Jinhwan can feel him thinking too much and slips his tongue out to lick lightly at Hanbin’s bottom lip to get him to relax. It isn’t perfect, Hanbin is so endearingly inexperienced, and his hands move from Jinhwan’s waist, to the back of his neck, to his waist again, before deciding to just stay hovering over Jinhwan’s shoulders. Still, Jinhwan wouldn’t want it, didn’t imagine it, any other way except for awkward and embarrassingly sincere.

When he pulls back his ears are ringing, and Hanbin is flushed a fantastic maroon. Jinhwan licks his lip, watches Hanbin track the movement with his eyes.

“That was…” Hanbin trails off, voice cracking.

Jinhwan places a hand over Hanbin’s mouth to stop any potential verbal vomit. “We might not win today,” he says truthfully, “and it’ll be devastating if we don't. But just know that if we don’t… I’m always here, I’ll do anything. As long as I’m with you, it won't ever be you that's losing.”

Hanbin breathes out against Jinhwan’s palm, pries his hand off of his mouth and squeezes it almost tentatively.

“That was gross,” he says.

Jinhwan raises an eyebrow. “The kiss or?”

“No! No, what you said, and even then it was the good kind of gross. The kiss- the kiss was perfect,” Hanbin amends, before realisation dawns upon him and he promptly backtracks. “I mean it was okay, I liked it but- It was… No, it was… It was the perfect first kiss.”

Jinhwan has to laugh at how mortified and out of his depth Hanbin is currently, and moves to stand next to him and wrap an arm around his waist. “Was it worth waiting for?” he teases, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve been waiting for it for almost three years,” Hanbin admits, ducking his head and scratching the back of his neck. “And it's you. Of course it was.”

a/n: 6. and then bobby joined them and sparkles polyamory golden trio.

happy birthday qtpie! ilu, and i’m sorry this is so late (should have emailed you for an extension, heh), and i’m the worst friend. jinhwan is so hard to write, please sit me down with a powerpoint presentation about him one day. i hope you enjoyed what is basically "4 and a half times hanbin pined and the one and a half time something else sort of happened".

fandom: ikon, pairing: b.i/jinhwan, rating: pg-13

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