Tongue-Tied and Overloaded [b.a.p; daehyun/youngjae]
Tongue-Tied and Overloaded
daehyun/youngjae
pg-13, romance, 5496 words
AU. Daehyun is lead singer of five member indie band B.A.P. Youngjae is a member of nugu rookie group 3J Project. Bad decisions are made in between bouts of first world poverty.
for ruintooeasy for thebrowniebunch fic exchange!
(words cannot describe how terrible i feel for getting this out late. 9 hour road trips are the worst kind of inconvenience, if only due to the lack of internet connection ._. i'm so sorry ruintooeasy! and i hope you still like it. i meshed a few of your prompts together, so i hope that's okay!)
The novelty of being a starving artist wears off after the first two weeks. It gets tiresome after he receives his third angry letter from his landlord, threatening to rip his balls off if he ever pays rent late again. It becomes flat out irritating when his parents happily tell him they’re about to go away on a six-month cruise around the Caribbean. That is, six months of forcing Daehyun into actual financial independency like a responsible adult. A quality, Daehyun realises when he pawns away his last pieces of bling (“It’s not a fucking bracelet Jongup”), God probably forgot to bestow in favor of dashing good looks.
However, it’s only when he’s standing with his face pressed up against the glass of the Music Bank vending machine, that Daehyun really loathes ditching college to instead become lead singer for a struggling indie band. It seemed like such a good idea back then - and a perfect way to pick up chicks. Daehyun liked singing, he liked chicks. It was a win-win situation. He didn’t however, like the notion that he’d have to risk not being able to pay rent if he gave into temptation and bought one fucking candy bar.
“Hey man, do you plan on moving?” someone snaps from behind him. Daehyun doesn’t need to turn around to know whom. Instead he squeezes himself flatter against the vending machine in order to further enrage.
“Sup Youngjae?” Daehyun greets, the glass fogging up as he speaks.
“I’m on stage in five minutes,” Youngjae sniffs. “Do you really hate me so much that you can’t even let me have sustenance?”
“Are you even allowed to eat chocolate?” Daehyun retorts. “I mean, doesn’t that go against JYP Robot Inc. protocol?”
Youngjae sighs, “Can we please not do this today?”
Daehyun lifts himself off the vendor, turning to face Youngjae with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “Fine. But only because if I make you wait any longer, your balls will probably suffocate in those skinny jeans.”
“I’m not wearing any skinny jeans you stereotyping douche,” Youngjae grimaces.
“Ignore him Youngjae,” Yongguk calls from the couch, sliding his headphones down to his neck. “He’s just a bit pissed off because living alone in a grubby apartment with rent out of his league is finally starting to get to him.”
“Really?” Youngjae says, raising an eyebrow and smiling smugly at Daehyun.
“Really.” Daehyun bites back.
Youngjae never ends up getting his candy, much to his chagrin, and Daehyun’s glee. He’s performing up on stage with his bandmates Jaebum and Jinyoung, the three of them making up JYP’s 3J Project. Who, in Daehyun’s opinion, had the worst debut song in the world.
“I like it!” Jongup says, watching the monitor “I think it’s kind of funky.”
“Funky,” Daehyun enunciates. “Is a euphemism for disjointed with no direction.”
“Youngjae’s live singing has gotten heaps better,” Himchan says, just for the sake of provoking Daehyun.
Daehyun glances up at the screen and blanches. “He still sounds like shit to me. What is up with his face during that finger wag, he looks like he has a few chromosomes missing."
“Daehyun!” Yongguk smacks the back of his head. “Can we keep it PC please? I honestly don’t see why you treat him so badly all the time.” He reprimands.
“Um…” Daehyun taps a finger to his chin, pretending to take the question seriously. “Because I hate him.”
“Hate,” Himchan tries to enunciate, though it loses effect when the word has just one syllable. “Is a euphemism for ‘I want to kiss the pretty out of him’.”
“Don’t. Even.” Daehyun warns, emphasizing his words a lot better than Himchan did.
Things with him and Youngjae hadn’t always started sour, that’s for sure. Daehyun is certain there was apathy in the relationships somewhere, before it blew up into petty spite, and eventually an insatiable need to make the other feel like shit.
He can’t exactly say what about Youngjae causes the vein on his forehead to throb and threaten to burst. His tendency to interrupt Daehyun’s self-pitying soliloquies never scored him any points. The dumbass wink he’d send towards the camera during his solo in ‘Bounce’ made Daehyun want to physically gag. He was insecure to the point where it seeped through as self-absorption. Daehyun has a list titled ‘Why You Should Kick Youngjae Out Of Your Band’ lying around somewhere in his apartment, lost amongst all the bills scattered over his desk. Last he saw it, he was showing it to Jaebum and Jinyoung, who’d both laughed and made the absolutely audacious statement that maybe Daehyun just didn’t like Youngjae because Youngjae didn’t like him. It was exasperating and crossing a line, but that’s what happens when you spend way too much time in Youngjae’s presence anyway.
In summation, there was basically a new reason not to like Youngjae every week. Daehyun already has one to add to the list when he opens the fridge and finds an empty milk carton siting comfortable between the butter (expired) and bread (leftovers from a brunch Daehyun had with Yongguk).
“Goddamnit Youngjae,” he swears, lifting the milk carton and throwing it onto the tabletop like it was diseased. “I don’t get it, do you skip practice and instead walk around Seoul’s low lives looking for new ways to suck?”
Youngjae emerges from the bedroom, haggard with heavy dark circles weighing down his eyes. “What? What are we overreacting about this time?”
Daehyun points to the milk carton and shakes his head. “Why would you leave that in the fridge? That’s horrible.”
Youngjae looks at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? Is this coming from the same person who harvested maggots in their room because they left the bin un-emptied for three months.”
“Yeah, see. It’s not about hygiene.” Daehyun rolls his eyes, unjustifiably annoyed. “When you put that empty carton of milk in the fridge You are not just putting in an empty carton of milk. You’re planting false hope inside what is meant to be a sanctuary of goodness and-“
Youngjae raises a palm. “Okay, that’s getting disturbing. How about I just promise to throw it out if you stop talking.”
Daehyun purses his lips and feigns considering the proposal. “How about you throw yourself out with it.” Youngjae ignores him and throws the carton off-handedly into the trash before scouring around the fridge for anything edible.
“We really need to go grocery shopping,” Youngjae says, picking up a half-eaten sandwich from last night, “Are you getting paid soon?”
Daehyun shrugs. “I don’t know. If sales pick up, I should get paid by Thursday."
Youngjae bites into his sandwich and grimaces. “Ergh. Tuna. I used my pay for the rent, what are we going to live on for the next three days, then?” Daehyun opens his mouth. “I am not going back to the soup kitchen.”
“Youngjae,” Daehyun states, stepping forward and squeezing his shoulders. “No one cares enough about you to give anymore than a bitter laugh if you get caught.” Secretly, Daehyun is thankful. He hates the soup kitchen. The server thinks he’s a leech and he doesn’t put it past her to spit in his soup the next time he’s there. “I wasn’t even going to suggest that. I’ll swindle some money out of Himchan when he comes over this afternoon. Speaking of which, you’re going to have to skedaddle.”
Youngjae frowns, giving Daehyun a circumspect look before shaking his head. “I don’t even care if people know we’re living together. But I’ll leave willingly. You don’t have to lock me in the bathroom this time,” he mumbles lowly, pushing his way past Daehyun and towards the bedroom.
“We don’t live together,” Daehyun hollers behind his shoulder. “We are sharing common space.”
Although the starving artist image had become irritating pretty fast, it took two months for Daehyun to actually become desperate enough to do something about it. He was the only one of their five member band not still living with his parents or working a side job. Daehyun didn’t think it was much of a big deal - his apartment was cheap and he never spent that much on luxuries aside from impulse food buys. By the time they got signed, he figured the profit from album sales would be enough to reasonably sustain his modest lifestyle.
That didn’t happen.
Daehyun learned very fast and very brutally, that members of reclusive rookie indie bands hardly ever became breadwinners. They had fans - Daehyun counted five placards with his name on them - but at the end of it he was pretty much being tossed pennies. It wasn’t until he was actually threatened with the concept of homelessness that he decided he was in dire need of financial help.
Daehyun didn’t expect anybody to answer the newspaper ad: “Grimy apartment in the heart of Seoul. Fully furnished. One kitchen. One Bathroom. One bedroom with Car-themed bunk beds.” Least of all did he expect Youngjae to stand there with a knapsack in tow. “Oh,” he had said, “I thought…”
It took every fiber of self-restraint for Daehyun not to slam the door on his face. He was probably predictable because Youngjae stuck a hand out to hold the door open, pleading when he told Daehyun: “Wait! Hear me out, please!”
Youngjae’s story was very long and tragic. So long and tragic that Daehyun fell asleep halfway and was woken up by a sharp kick to his shins. Basically, it was possible to come from one of the Big 3 idol factories in the nation and still be absolutely and completely irrelevant. Jinyoung and Jaebum both had several modeling and acting endorsements to get them by. All Youngjae could do was just sing. Maybe in another lifetime Daehyun would feel sorry for him, but all he absorbed from that night was that Youngjae could afford to pay at least half the rent.
“Alright,” Daehyun agreed. “You’re suitable, if only barely. I just need you to sign the roommate contract and you can dump your bag in the bedroom.” Daehyun slid a crinkled piece of paper across the table, empty aside from a few lines of messy scrawl at the top.
ROOMMATE/RENTAL CHARTER
1. Signing this, the party agrees to take the bottom bunk and never venture beyond the fourth ring of the ladder at all times.
Signature: _______________
“Is this open to future amendments?” Youngjae asked, taking out a pen and signing it quickly.
“No. But in the unlikely even of my demise, then you are to dismantle the top bunk and bury it with my body,” Daehyun replied. “It’s in the fine print.”
Youngjae nodded and slid the paper back towards Daehyun. “Okay, so now that we’re living together…”
“If you’re about to suggest we try and get along,” Daehyun interrupted, “all I really need from you is to mind your own space and it’ll be fine.”
Youngjae thinned his lips. “I was about to say that I’m at practice or doing promotions pretty much 24/7, so I really just need this place to sleep. So you don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Cool,” Daehyun nodded. “But wait, do you snore?”
“Sometimes when it’s cold,” Youngjae admitted, “but really softly.”
Daehyun sighed. “Of course you would, Yoo Youngjae. Of course you would.”
Its been three months since then, and very little had changed from the moment Youngjae’s toothbrush found a permanent spot in the bathroom. Maybe it’s a bit anti-climatic - the absence of hilarious romantic hijinks. But Daehyun’s life isn’t a fucking drama.
Daehyun resents little more than he resents the fact every two weeks Yongguk makes them perform at mainstream music programs for the sake of “exposure”. He spends at least half the week buttering up the PDs with faux smiles and flattery, in order to get a four-minute slot at the very beginning of the program. Daehyun thinks it’s pointless. No one watches the music programs anyway, they never win anything, but Yongguk is forced to treat the production team for dinner regardless. Daehyun is pretty sure he could buy his dinky apartment outright and kick Youngjae out if he even had half the salary the PDs of the television stations had. So the anti-Robin Hood games they’re made to play in order to climb the entertainment ladder leaves a bad taste on his tongue.
“Hey Daehyun,” Jaebum greets, sliding up next to him on the couch.
“Hey,” Daehyun responds, shooting him a surreptitious glance. Jaebum made up a third of the 3J Project - Youngjae’s band, the newest rookies from JYP entertainment. Jaebum was a decently agreeable guy, miles better than certain other band mates, though occasionally he’d crawl under Daehyun’s skin with stupid statements such as-
“So, do you and Youngjae have any plans for this evening, or is okay for me to come over?” Jaebum grins.
Daehyun frowns. “Gross. And no you can’t come over, because you’re a slimy piece of crap.”
Jaebum laughs and slaps Daehyun’s thigh. “How does the apartment not explode from the sheer sexual tension?”
Daehyun groans, burying his face into his hands. This is precisely why he wanted to keep their living arrangements a secret. Youngjae however, had promised him Jaebum and Jinyoung wouldn’t really care as long as they knew Youngjae wasn’t living out on the streets. True to Youngjae’s word, neither of them did really care. They did however, think it was the most hilarious thing in the world and never wasted an opportunity to make sure Daehyun knew it too.
“Aren’t you guys due to go on soon? If not, can you get the fuck out anyway?” Daehyun suggests.
Jaebum shrugs and checks his watch. “We’re on in ten minutes. We’ve been climbing up the charts lately, so you might see us on the top ten any time soon.”
“Don’t you ever regret becoming an idol?” Daehyun asks. “I mean, how many years of your life did you devote to this, and in the end you’re making half of what you could have made if you were an engineer or something.”
“I’m hopeless at everything else though,” Jaebum says. “This is all I wanted to do. Why don’t you tell that to Youngjae? He chose this over going to Med School.”
Daehyun is pretty sure his eyes bulge out from their sockets. “Youngjae was about to go to Med School?”
Jaebum nods, staring down at the trodden tiles of the waiting room. “Yeah man, he did really well back in school. Even I couldn’t believe he let the chance slip through his fingers.”
Daehyun ruminates over it for a second. It definitely explains why Youngjae sometimes spent hours scrolling through, and graphing trends in online charts. Trying to convince himself they were getting closer. The blaring optimism just caused Daehyun to grind his teeth together, so he ended up cutting off Youngjae’s access to the Wi-Fi.
“Well. Dr. Yoo Youngjae, huh? Who would have thought…” Daehyun trails off, glancing at the back of the waiting room where Youngjae and Junhong were currently busying themselves in a game of chess.
Jaebum shakes his head. “You’ve been living with him for three months, man. Have you two ever properly talked to each other? A relationship can’t survive purely off sex-“
Daehyun throws a pillow at his face. “That’s it. Get out. This is why you’ll forever be the much less superior Im Jaebum.”
“Yongguk hyung. I’m pretty sure the PDs can buy their own food whenever they want. Can’t we leave?” Jongup whines, face planted against the armrest of the chair. The five of them were the only ones left in the waiting room - all other idol groups congregating on stage for the ending and results announcement.
Himchan rubs Jongup’s back reassuringly. “The kid has a point Yongguk. I really doubt he’d care if we just let this one go.”
Yongguk presses two fingers on his forehead. “Guys, one slip up and we lose the chance to perform on these forever. It’s dumb, but we need all we can get at the moment.”
“Urgh!” Daehyun cries. “This is such a waste of time. God, you know what I had for dinner the other night, Hyung? I had fucking leftover soup. From the fucking soup kitchen. If anyone here should be treated out for a fucking meal, then it’s us. Our name is fucking B.A.P. So where’s the actual bap when I need it? Screw those dumbshit PDs if-“
“No way!” Junhong exclaims, interrupting Daehyun’s spiel. “Check it out!” He points up to the small monitor hanging of the ceiling, playing the broadcast live. The winner of the K-Chart for the week was just announced, with confetti falling from the ceiling and some of the more senior idol groups looking jaded at the back. It’s a typical sight really, with a small exception.
“Hey Daehyun!” Himchan smirks. “Your boyfriend looks like he’s about to cry.”
“Holy shit. Is this actual take-away food that’s fresh and not half-eaten?” Daehyun’s mouth falls open. He presses the warm take-out box to his cheek. “I can feel the full flavors calling out to me. Daehyuuuuun~ Daehyuuuun~”
Youngjae snorts, sitting down across Daehyun and snapping apart his chopsticks. “I bought it from this corner store across the street. Nothing too fancy.” He wraps a string of noodles around his chopsticks, chuckling at the way Daehyun was vacuuming through his own box. “I never thought I’d be celebrating my first win like this.”
“So is it all up from here? Are you going to move out to a penthouse next week?” Daehyun teases. He wants to add more, but he doesn’t want to stop eating either.
“Yeah, probably. I need somewhere to store all my groupies, y’know?”
They eat the rest of their meal in silence - progress in itself really. Youngjae packs up and disposes of the boxes whilst Daehyun rests his forehead on the cool countertop. His stomach pushes against his knees, unaccustomed to eating so much in one go. Daehyun was really losing his charm.
From the side he can see Youngjae cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, without any assistance from Daehyun as per usual. It’s something he only did because he realized Daehyun wasn’t beyond living in his own filth, and definitely had no motivation to clean around more than once a month.
“Why didn’t you go to Med School?” Daehyun slurs out, lifting his head of the bench and looking at Youngjae tiredly.
Youngjae turns around surprised. He doesn’t stiffen or clench his jaw, so Daehyun breathes a sigh of relief that he hadn’t just broached a sensitive topic.
“How did you know I got into Med School?” Youngjae asks.
“Jaebum told me.”
“Oh,” Youngjae says. It sounds hollow - like he expected something else. “Well, I just wanted to perform. My parents told me it would be hard, but didn’t oppose that much. So I just… didn’t go?”
Daehyun blinks at him. “Is that it? Well, that’s a lot less dramatic then I was expecting.”
“If I really faced that much opposition I wouldn’t try,” Youngjae replies nonchalantly.
“Well, I guess it worked out for the best. I can’t really see you as a doctor,” says Daehyun.
The quiet peace that’d fallen around them was obviously much too good to last. Youngjae narrows his eyes and points an accusing finger in Daehyun’s direction. “What’s that meant to mean?”
“That I can’t see you as a doctor? I don’t know, what other meaning can it have?” Daehyun snaps back, a lot less listless than he was just two minutes ago.
“You can’t see me as a doctor. You hate me as a singer. Is there any variation of me you might be able to tolerate?” He’s standing right beside Daehyun now, forcing him to look up and giving an illusion of power. Daehyun lifts himself off the chair to balance the playing field.
“A version of you that doesn’t antagonize me every chance they get,” Daehyun pushes Youngjae back by the chest, causing him to stumble backwards into the fridge. He reaches out and grasps Daehyun’s sleeve for support, effectively pulling him along for the fall.
“And the winner!” Leeteuk announces into the mic, pausing for dramatic effect. “Of the Oscar for Bad Decisions goes to…”
The crowd waits with baited breath as Leeteuk opens the envelope. He reads the name once, twice, before looking up and declaring.
“Jung Daehyun!”
The applause is thunderous as Daehyun walks up to the stage, dressed in khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt like the bad decision maker he was. Onew of boyband SHINee, the other favourite for the award, rests his forehead on his palms in despair.
Daehyun brings the mike closer, clearing his throat and recalling the thank you speech he’d been rehearsing for the last few days.
“I’m honoured to be bestowed this prestigious award.” Daehyun begins. “But decisions like the one I made don’t happen without external interference.” He scans the crowd for familiar faces - his band was sitting at the very back of the auditorium, beaming up proudly. “So I would like to thank my landlord, Mr. Hwang, for starting the landslide. Bang Yongguk, or else I’d probably be living semi-comfortably as a poor college student. My dear Mother, for accidentally smoking pot while she was pregnant with me. And finally, Jaebum, Himchan, and the rest of my band for fucking with my head and making my bad decision seem little like a decision at all.”
Daehyun really doesn’t want to elaborate on anything. So all he’ll say is that Youngjae tastes like satay.
Steps to Amending Awkward Situations:
1. Establish that everything is okay.
(“Hey, Youngjae! I’ll see you at Music Core today, right?” Daehyun calls just before Youngjae leaves through the door.
Youngjae turns around with a brash “Huh?” His feet however, fail to follow and he collides into the doorframe. “Motherfuck-“ he swears, clutching his head and keeling over.
“Um…” Daehyun begins, “are you okay? Do you need-“
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Youngjae assures, stumbling out of the room. “Yeah, I’ll totally see you at Music Core. I mean, not that I want to. But I probably will see you. Even though we really don’t want to see each other,” he rambles. “Um. Douche!” he yells, shutting the door behind him. Daehyun can hear the hurried footsteps make their way down the hall.)
2. Acknowledge the fact it’s really not a big deal. First to yourself, then to others.
(“Um,” Himchan begins, looking at Daehyun intently. “Did I miss the coming of the apocalypse or something? Or did I not get a memo? What’s going on?”
Daehyun looks up from his magazine. “What are you talking about?”
Himchan clears his throat. “We are in the same room as Youngjae, and there is no yelling. No pushing. No third-grade insults.”
Daehyun looks over to where Youngjae was currently getting styled. The coordi was teasing out his hair into taut spikes, something that Daehyun once laughed at and said made Youngjae look like a pineapple. Now though? Well, Youngjae still looked like a pineapple. But a pineapple with nice lips. The thought makes Daehyun’s palms sweat and he looks away, lest Youngjae catch his eye in the mirror or some other cliché shit.
“We aren’t third graders, hyung. We’ve outgrown that long ago,” Daehyun chortles.
Himchan blinks. “I-what? Did you just fucking chortle. Holy shit. I’m going to need a minute,” he shakes his head, mumbling to himself as he leaves the room in a daze.)
3. Bring it up in casual conversation to show your comfort with the non-situation.
(“So the company just had a small party for us. 2PM’s comeback is in a few weeks, so they’re being a bit prude with their money. But yeah, it was fun,” Jinyoung smiles at the memory. “I’ll probably bore you with the details. I’m sure Youngjae hyung already told you.”
“Nah,” Daehyun refutes. “He didn’t. We just had some dinner and made out for a bit. Continue?”
Jaebum and Jinyoung gape at Daehyun disbelievingly. Finally, Jaebum breaks the standstill and reaches for his water bottle. Taking a long sip and proceeding to spit it out onto Daehyun’s face.
“What the fuck?” Jinyoung shrieks.
Daehyun reaches blindly around the table for a tissue, wiping his face with it and shooting Jaebum a non-discreet glare. “Relax man. It’s not a big deal.”
“Wait, you’re being serious?” Jaebum says, raising an eyebrow. “Oh. I just thought you were finally playing along.”
“Um… get it?” Jinyoung adds weakly.)
4. Address the issue with the other awkward party.
(“Boo,” Daehyun whispers.
Youngjae jumps up violently, knocking over the bottles of products on the table, and sending his chair colliding into Daehyun’s kneecaps.
“Ouch. Good aim,” Daehyun grits out through clenched teeth.
“Oh God, are you okay?” Youngjae says, bending down to expect the damage. At the last minute he hesitates, straightening up and looking Daehyun down. “Ha! Man up, you- you- fail whale.”
“Thanks for that,” Daehyun drawls. “Why don’t you kiss it better?”
Alright, maybe Daehyun should have thought of a better segway. Youngjae flushes pink from his neck to the tip of his ears.
“I-because. You started it! Why don’t you kiss yourself better you instigator!” he all but squeaks.
Daehyun feels like he should really say something to fix whatever he’d caused. Since Youngjae looked like he was having a fit, eyes desperately darting around the room for a way out. Daehyun figures he might as well put him out of his misery.
“Have you done your final sound check yet?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Youngjae clicks his fingers. “Yes! Sound check. I mean, no, I haven’t. I should-I should leave.” He scurries away, almost bumping into Himchan on the way out who mouths a distressed ’what’s going on? in Daehyun’s direction.
“I’m warning you,” Jaebum says, adjusting his headset as he walks past Daehyun, “if you broke him then you’re buying 200 copies of our maxi-single.”
Daehyun has to try very hard to repress a shiver. He could already feel his street cred falling.)
5. Reminisce over the awkward time with each other and share a laugh.
(It’s his apartment. Sure, Youngjae was paying half the rent, but still. Daehyun had its dilapidated ass first.
Daehyun stares through the crack in the door, watching Youngjae lying face down on his mattress and clicking around on his laptop. All Daehyun has to do is burst in obnoxiously, like he always does, announce his presence loudly, and all normalcy will be restored in the world.
He just needs an icebreaker so he doesn’t scare Youngjae away like he did backstage of Music Core. They could bond over their shared love of… first world poverty or something?
Youngjae shifts and his shirt rides up his back, exposing the small arch of skin just above the belt of his pants.
“Fuck it,” Daehyun swears. He grabs his coat and leaves for Yongguk’s place.)
Yoo Youngjae. He liked long walks on the beach, sharing one bowl of ice cream, and holding hands was his favourite form of PDA. His secret turn ons included green eye shadow, nervous stammering, and people who chewed their collars in thought. Daehyun memorizes all this from his old eHarmony profile, but not before saving Youngjae’s unfortunate profile picture (with a Mohawk and everything) for future blackmail.
The awkwardness that had been plaguing them for the past two weeks due to Daehyun’s Bad Decision That Shall Never Be Elaborated On had dissipated into apathy. This was for better or worse. Because although Youngjae didn’t fidget in his presence or run away anymore, he didn’t do anything anymore. For Daehyun, someone whose mere presence should evoke joviality and liveliness, this was fast becoming vexing.
Youngjae could avoid Daehyun all he wanted in their own apartment. But in public, specifically the backstage of Inkigayo, civility was due. So Daehyun approaches Youngjae with confidence that there was going to be no skittish evasion this time around.
Youngjae looks up at him, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before making up his mind. “Um… I like the green eye shadow? Very… environmental.”
“How did rehearsals go?” Daehyun asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning back on the wall.
“They went well, I guess,” Youngjae says. “What about you? I heard one of the amplifiers went wonky.”
“Yeah, it caught us off guard. I got really n-nervous. I can’t get nervous on stage, or else I stammer all my lines,” Daehyun explains.
Jinyoung, who was previously occupied with his phone, looks up at the mention of Daehyun’s stammer and nudges Jaebum with his elbow. Daehyun ignores their incessant sniggering and looks back towards Youngjae. A bright red was beginning to broil itself onto his skin, a clear sign of foreboding arousal.
“Daehyun,” Youngjae whispers harshly, “What are you doing?”
Daehyun purses his lips. “I’m not sure. Let me think about it for a bit.” He bites down on his collar and begins chewing it between his teeth. It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and Jinyoung and Jaebum both collapse on the floor in a heap of boisterous laughter. Youngjae looks like he wants to bury himself in a hole.
“Very funny,” he snips, slapping Daehyun collar away from his mouth. “Thanks for proving we’ve progressed none, Daehyun.” He bumps Daehyun’s shoulder very purposefully as he leaves the room.
Daehyun stands there dumbstruck until Yongguk comes up behind him at taps his shoulder.
“We’re on for broadcast, little elf man,” he teases.
Steps to Amending Awkward Situations:
5.5. Explain your actions leading up to the awkward situation to show regret.
(“Jinyoung and Jaebum made that eHarmony profile when we were 17. I got twenty people interested, fifteen of whom were men above thirty who just wanted me as booty call,” Youngjae explains.
Daehyun sits cross-legged on his top bunk, his stomach churning in embarrassment. Mostly for Youngjae though, since that eHarmony prank sounded awesome. Him, Jaebum, and Jinyoung could have been best friends in another lifetime.
“To be fair on me, some of that cheesy stuff sounded totally plausible,” Daehyun says.
“I can’t believe you actually put on green eye-shadow,” Youngjae shakes his head. “Do you want the D that badly?”
It’s Daehyun’s turn to feel embarrassed. “Far from it. I just figured that you were right.”
“Right about what?” Youngjae asks, voice weary.
Daehyun hoists himself to the edge of the bunk, leaning over the bar and looking down at Youngjae. “That if we want to live together, we should probably start to get along. Get to know more about each other.”
Youngjae furrows his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you just ask?” he questions.)
Daehyun knocks before coming in. He doesn’t actually wait for a response - but it’s a beginning. Youngjae’s current state was that of a hobo. He’d been stuck in bed for three days straight, unshaven, unwashed, and there was a fly circling the crown of his head.
Daehyun clears his throat. “I checked the netizen comments.”
Youngjae screams into his pillow. “I told you not to!” He rolls around, feebly attempting to kick the laptop out of Daehyun’s hands.
Daehyun grabs his foot and pulls him off the bed, ignoring the ’Ow! when Youngjae falls onto the floor with a thud.
“The most up-voted comment was ‘This is not the Im Jaebum I was interested in!’ followed closely by, ‘Kekeke. JYP has gotten so desperate they’re actually buying back albums. I’m more embarrassed for those poor kids,' and ‘Im Jaebum, Park Jinyoung. Who is Yoo Youngjae?’”
Youngjae lifts himself off the floor. “Oh… well, that’s not so bad.”
“It’s actually really embarrassing how no one cares, but it could have been worse.” Daehyun shrugs. “Just proves, things are never as bad as you probably think they are.”
Youngjae sighs and rests his head on his knees. “That M!Countdown win meant nothing then huh? Guess the penthouse will have to wait.”
“Fortunately though, I’m doing a lot better than you,” Daehyun feels the need to add. Youngjae glowers at him from the floor. “It was an invitation!” Daehyun defends. “I’ll treat you out to a pity dinner.” He reaches a hand out to Youngjae, who eyes it suspiciously before accepting it and letting himself be hoisted up.
“Looks like you’re stuck being poor for a while Yoo Youngjae.”
If Daehyun really had to elaborate on The Bad Decision That Shall Never Be Elaborated On, then he’d probably start by saying that Youngjae had really nice eyes. Eyes that would turn crescent shaped as he glared up at Daehyun, chest heaving heavily, and mouth twisted into an angry pout.
Daehyun would also say that he was never the best at resisting temptation. And maybe he wanted to know if Youngjae kissed like a doctor or a performer.
Though the real reason was that at the time, leaning in to kiss Yoo Youngjae seemed like the best decision in the world.
a/n: the most non-plot thing ever written by me. i hope you like it regardless ruintooeasy!! i love daejae, and i loved your prompt! and i had lots of fun writing this, even though i'm not sure it shows.
daehyun/youngjae
pg-13, romance, 5496 words
AU. Daehyun is lead singer of five member indie band B.A.P. Youngjae is a member of nugu rookie group 3J Project. Bad decisions are made in between bouts of first world poverty.
for ruintooeasy for thebrowniebunch fic exchange!
(words cannot describe how terrible i feel for getting this out late. 9 hour road trips are the worst kind of inconvenience, if only due to the lack of internet connection ._. i'm so sorry ruintooeasy! and i hope you still like it. i meshed a few of your prompts together, so i hope that's okay!)
The novelty of being a starving artist wears off after the first two weeks. It gets tiresome after he receives his third angry letter from his landlord, threatening to rip his balls off if he ever pays rent late again. It becomes flat out irritating when his parents happily tell him they’re about to go away on a six-month cruise around the Caribbean. That is, six months of forcing Daehyun into actual financial independency like a responsible adult. A quality, Daehyun realises when he pawns away his last pieces of bling (“It’s not a fucking bracelet Jongup”), God probably forgot to bestow in favor of dashing good looks.
However, it’s only when he’s standing with his face pressed up against the glass of the Music Bank vending machine, that Daehyun really loathes ditching college to instead become lead singer for a struggling indie band. It seemed like such a good idea back then - and a perfect way to pick up chicks. Daehyun liked singing, he liked chicks. It was a win-win situation. He didn’t however, like the notion that he’d have to risk not being able to pay rent if he gave into temptation and bought one fucking candy bar.
“Hey man, do you plan on moving?” someone snaps from behind him. Daehyun doesn’t need to turn around to know whom. Instead he squeezes himself flatter against the vending machine in order to further enrage.
“Sup Youngjae?” Daehyun greets, the glass fogging up as he speaks.
“I’m on stage in five minutes,” Youngjae sniffs. “Do you really hate me so much that you can’t even let me have sustenance?”
“Are you even allowed to eat chocolate?” Daehyun retorts. “I mean, doesn’t that go against JYP Robot Inc. protocol?”
Youngjae sighs, “Can we please not do this today?”
Daehyun lifts himself off the vendor, turning to face Youngjae with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. “Fine. But only because if I make you wait any longer, your balls will probably suffocate in those skinny jeans.”
“I’m not wearing any skinny jeans you stereotyping douche,” Youngjae grimaces.
“Ignore him Youngjae,” Yongguk calls from the couch, sliding his headphones down to his neck. “He’s just a bit pissed off because living alone in a grubby apartment with rent out of his league is finally starting to get to him.”
“Really?” Youngjae says, raising an eyebrow and smiling smugly at Daehyun.
“Really.” Daehyun bites back.
Youngjae never ends up getting his candy, much to his chagrin, and Daehyun’s glee. He’s performing up on stage with his bandmates Jaebum and Jinyoung, the three of them making up JYP’s 3J Project. Who, in Daehyun’s opinion, had the worst debut song in the world.
“I like it!” Jongup says, watching the monitor “I think it’s kind of funky.”
“Funky,” Daehyun enunciates. “Is a euphemism for disjointed with no direction.”
“Youngjae’s live singing has gotten heaps better,” Himchan says, just for the sake of provoking Daehyun.
Daehyun glances up at the screen and blanches. “He still sounds like shit to me. What is up with his face during that finger wag, he looks like he has a few chromosomes missing."
“Daehyun!” Yongguk smacks the back of his head. “Can we keep it PC please? I honestly don’t see why you treat him so badly all the time.” He reprimands.
“Um…” Daehyun taps a finger to his chin, pretending to take the question seriously. “Because I hate him.”
“Hate,” Himchan tries to enunciate, though it loses effect when the word has just one syllable. “Is a euphemism for ‘I want to kiss the pretty out of him’.”
“Don’t. Even.” Daehyun warns, emphasizing his words a lot better than Himchan did.
Things with him and Youngjae hadn’t always started sour, that’s for sure. Daehyun is certain there was apathy in the relationships somewhere, before it blew up into petty spite, and eventually an insatiable need to make the other feel like shit.
He can’t exactly say what about Youngjae causes the vein on his forehead to throb and threaten to burst. His tendency to interrupt Daehyun’s self-pitying soliloquies never scored him any points. The dumbass wink he’d send towards the camera during his solo in ‘Bounce’ made Daehyun want to physically gag. He was insecure to the point where it seeped through as self-absorption. Daehyun has a list titled ‘Why You Should Kick Youngjae Out Of Your Band’ lying around somewhere in his apartment, lost amongst all the bills scattered over his desk. Last he saw it, he was showing it to Jaebum and Jinyoung, who’d both laughed and made the absolutely audacious statement that maybe Daehyun just didn’t like Youngjae because Youngjae didn’t like him. It was exasperating and crossing a line, but that’s what happens when you spend way too much time in Youngjae’s presence anyway.
In summation, there was basically a new reason not to like Youngjae every week. Daehyun already has one to add to the list when he opens the fridge and finds an empty milk carton siting comfortable between the butter (expired) and bread (leftovers from a brunch Daehyun had with Yongguk).
“Goddamnit Youngjae,” he swears, lifting the milk carton and throwing it onto the tabletop like it was diseased. “I don’t get it, do you skip practice and instead walk around Seoul’s low lives looking for new ways to suck?”
Youngjae emerges from the bedroom, haggard with heavy dark circles weighing down his eyes. “What? What are we overreacting about this time?”
Daehyun points to the milk carton and shakes his head. “Why would you leave that in the fridge? That’s horrible.”
Youngjae looks at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? Is this coming from the same person who harvested maggots in their room because they left the bin un-emptied for three months.”
“Yeah, see. It’s not about hygiene.” Daehyun rolls his eyes, unjustifiably annoyed. “When you put that empty carton of milk in the fridge You are not just putting in an empty carton of milk. You’re planting false hope inside what is meant to be a sanctuary of goodness and-“
Youngjae raises a palm. “Okay, that’s getting disturbing. How about I just promise to throw it out if you stop talking.”
Daehyun purses his lips and feigns considering the proposal. “How about you throw yourself out with it.” Youngjae ignores him and throws the carton off-handedly into the trash before scouring around the fridge for anything edible.
“We really need to go grocery shopping,” Youngjae says, picking up a half-eaten sandwich from last night, “Are you getting paid soon?”
Daehyun shrugs. “I don’t know. If sales pick up, I should get paid by Thursday."
Youngjae bites into his sandwich and grimaces. “Ergh. Tuna. I used my pay for the rent, what are we going to live on for the next three days, then?” Daehyun opens his mouth. “I am not going back to the soup kitchen.”
“Youngjae,” Daehyun states, stepping forward and squeezing his shoulders. “No one cares enough about you to give anymore than a bitter laugh if you get caught.” Secretly, Daehyun is thankful. He hates the soup kitchen. The server thinks he’s a leech and he doesn’t put it past her to spit in his soup the next time he’s there. “I wasn’t even going to suggest that. I’ll swindle some money out of Himchan when he comes over this afternoon. Speaking of which, you’re going to have to skedaddle.”
Youngjae frowns, giving Daehyun a circumspect look before shaking his head. “I don’t even care if people know we’re living together. But I’ll leave willingly. You don’t have to lock me in the bathroom this time,” he mumbles lowly, pushing his way past Daehyun and towards the bedroom.
“We don’t live together,” Daehyun hollers behind his shoulder. “We are sharing common space.”
Although the starving artist image had become irritating pretty fast, it took two months for Daehyun to actually become desperate enough to do something about it. He was the only one of their five member band not still living with his parents or working a side job. Daehyun didn’t think it was much of a big deal - his apartment was cheap and he never spent that much on luxuries aside from impulse food buys. By the time they got signed, he figured the profit from album sales would be enough to reasonably sustain his modest lifestyle.
That didn’t happen.
Daehyun learned very fast and very brutally, that members of reclusive rookie indie bands hardly ever became breadwinners. They had fans - Daehyun counted five placards with his name on them - but at the end of it he was pretty much being tossed pennies. It wasn’t until he was actually threatened with the concept of homelessness that he decided he was in dire need of financial help.
Daehyun didn’t expect anybody to answer the newspaper ad: “Grimy apartment in the heart of Seoul. Fully furnished. One kitchen. One Bathroom. One bedroom with Car-themed bunk beds.” Least of all did he expect Youngjae to stand there with a knapsack in tow. “Oh,” he had said, “I thought…”
It took every fiber of self-restraint for Daehyun not to slam the door on his face. He was probably predictable because Youngjae stuck a hand out to hold the door open, pleading when he told Daehyun: “Wait! Hear me out, please!”
Youngjae’s story was very long and tragic. So long and tragic that Daehyun fell asleep halfway and was woken up by a sharp kick to his shins. Basically, it was possible to come from one of the Big 3 idol factories in the nation and still be absolutely and completely irrelevant. Jinyoung and Jaebum both had several modeling and acting endorsements to get them by. All Youngjae could do was just sing. Maybe in another lifetime Daehyun would feel sorry for him, but all he absorbed from that night was that Youngjae could afford to pay at least half the rent.
“Alright,” Daehyun agreed. “You’re suitable, if only barely. I just need you to sign the roommate contract and you can dump your bag in the bedroom.” Daehyun slid a crinkled piece of paper across the table, empty aside from a few lines of messy scrawl at the top.
ROOMMATE/RENTAL CHARTER
1. Signing this, the party agrees to take the bottom bunk and never venture beyond the fourth ring of the ladder at all times.
Signature: _______________
“Is this open to future amendments?” Youngjae asked, taking out a pen and signing it quickly.
“No. But in the unlikely even of my demise, then you are to dismantle the top bunk and bury it with my body,” Daehyun replied. “It’s in the fine print.”
Youngjae nodded and slid the paper back towards Daehyun. “Okay, so now that we’re living together…”
“If you’re about to suggest we try and get along,” Daehyun interrupted, “all I really need from you is to mind your own space and it’ll be fine.”
Youngjae thinned his lips. “I was about to say that I’m at practice or doing promotions pretty much 24/7, so I really just need this place to sleep. So you don’t have to worry about anything.”
“Cool,” Daehyun nodded. “But wait, do you snore?”
“Sometimes when it’s cold,” Youngjae admitted, “but really softly.”
Daehyun sighed. “Of course you would, Yoo Youngjae. Of course you would.”
Its been three months since then, and very little had changed from the moment Youngjae’s toothbrush found a permanent spot in the bathroom. Maybe it’s a bit anti-climatic - the absence of hilarious romantic hijinks. But Daehyun’s life isn’t a fucking drama.
Daehyun resents little more than he resents the fact every two weeks Yongguk makes them perform at mainstream music programs for the sake of “exposure”. He spends at least half the week buttering up the PDs with faux smiles and flattery, in order to get a four-minute slot at the very beginning of the program. Daehyun thinks it’s pointless. No one watches the music programs anyway, they never win anything, but Yongguk is forced to treat the production team for dinner regardless. Daehyun is pretty sure he could buy his dinky apartment outright and kick Youngjae out if he even had half the salary the PDs of the television stations had. So the anti-Robin Hood games they’re made to play in order to climb the entertainment ladder leaves a bad taste on his tongue.
“Hey Daehyun,” Jaebum greets, sliding up next to him on the couch.
“Hey,” Daehyun responds, shooting him a surreptitious glance. Jaebum made up a third of the 3J Project - Youngjae’s band, the newest rookies from JYP entertainment. Jaebum was a decently agreeable guy, miles better than certain other band mates, though occasionally he’d crawl under Daehyun’s skin with stupid statements such as-
“So, do you and Youngjae have any plans for this evening, or is okay for me to come over?” Jaebum grins.
Daehyun frowns. “Gross. And no you can’t come over, because you’re a slimy piece of crap.”
Jaebum laughs and slaps Daehyun’s thigh. “How does the apartment not explode from the sheer sexual tension?”
Daehyun groans, burying his face into his hands. This is precisely why he wanted to keep their living arrangements a secret. Youngjae however, had promised him Jaebum and Jinyoung wouldn’t really care as long as they knew Youngjae wasn’t living out on the streets. True to Youngjae’s word, neither of them did really care. They did however, think it was the most hilarious thing in the world and never wasted an opportunity to make sure Daehyun knew it too.
“Aren’t you guys due to go on soon? If not, can you get the fuck out anyway?” Daehyun suggests.
Jaebum shrugs and checks his watch. “We’re on in ten minutes. We’ve been climbing up the charts lately, so you might see us on the top ten any time soon.”
“Don’t you ever regret becoming an idol?” Daehyun asks. “I mean, how many years of your life did you devote to this, and in the end you’re making half of what you could have made if you were an engineer or something.”
“I’m hopeless at everything else though,” Jaebum says. “This is all I wanted to do. Why don’t you tell that to Youngjae? He chose this over going to Med School.”
Daehyun is pretty sure his eyes bulge out from their sockets. “Youngjae was about to go to Med School?”
Jaebum nods, staring down at the trodden tiles of the waiting room. “Yeah man, he did really well back in school. Even I couldn’t believe he let the chance slip through his fingers.”
Daehyun ruminates over it for a second. It definitely explains why Youngjae sometimes spent hours scrolling through, and graphing trends in online charts. Trying to convince himself they were getting closer. The blaring optimism just caused Daehyun to grind his teeth together, so he ended up cutting off Youngjae’s access to the Wi-Fi.
“Well. Dr. Yoo Youngjae, huh? Who would have thought…” Daehyun trails off, glancing at the back of the waiting room where Youngjae and Junhong were currently busying themselves in a game of chess.
Jaebum shakes his head. “You’ve been living with him for three months, man. Have you two ever properly talked to each other? A relationship can’t survive purely off sex-“
Daehyun throws a pillow at his face. “That’s it. Get out. This is why you’ll forever be the much less superior Im Jaebum.”
“Yongguk hyung. I’m pretty sure the PDs can buy their own food whenever they want. Can’t we leave?” Jongup whines, face planted against the armrest of the chair. The five of them were the only ones left in the waiting room - all other idol groups congregating on stage for the ending and results announcement.
Himchan rubs Jongup’s back reassuringly. “The kid has a point Yongguk. I really doubt he’d care if we just let this one go.”
Yongguk presses two fingers on his forehead. “Guys, one slip up and we lose the chance to perform on these forever. It’s dumb, but we need all we can get at the moment.”
“Urgh!” Daehyun cries. “This is such a waste of time. God, you know what I had for dinner the other night, Hyung? I had fucking leftover soup. From the fucking soup kitchen. If anyone here should be treated out for a fucking meal, then it’s us. Our name is fucking B.A.P. So where’s the actual bap when I need it? Screw those dumbshit PDs if-“
“No way!” Junhong exclaims, interrupting Daehyun’s spiel. “Check it out!” He points up to the small monitor hanging of the ceiling, playing the broadcast live. The winner of the K-Chart for the week was just announced, with confetti falling from the ceiling and some of the more senior idol groups looking jaded at the back. It’s a typical sight really, with a small exception.
“Hey Daehyun!” Himchan smirks. “Your boyfriend looks like he’s about to cry.”
“Holy shit. Is this actual take-away food that’s fresh and not half-eaten?” Daehyun’s mouth falls open. He presses the warm take-out box to his cheek. “I can feel the full flavors calling out to me. Daehyuuuuun~ Daehyuuuun~”
Youngjae snorts, sitting down across Daehyun and snapping apart his chopsticks. “I bought it from this corner store across the street. Nothing too fancy.” He wraps a string of noodles around his chopsticks, chuckling at the way Daehyun was vacuuming through his own box. “I never thought I’d be celebrating my first win like this.”
“So is it all up from here? Are you going to move out to a penthouse next week?” Daehyun teases. He wants to add more, but he doesn’t want to stop eating either.
“Yeah, probably. I need somewhere to store all my groupies, y’know?”
They eat the rest of their meal in silence - progress in itself really. Youngjae packs up and disposes of the boxes whilst Daehyun rests his forehead on the cool countertop. His stomach pushes against his knees, unaccustomed to eating so much in one go. Daehyun was really losing his charm.
From the side he can see Youngjae cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, without any assistance from Daehyun as per usual. It’s something he only did because he realized Daehyun wasn’t beyond living in his own filth, and definitely had no motivation to clean around more than once a month.
“Why didn’t you go to Med School?” Daehyun slurs out, lifting his head of the bench and looking at Youngjae tiredly.
Youngjae turns around surprised. He doesn’t stiffen or clench his jaw, so Daehyun breathes a sigh of relief that he hadn’t just broached a sensitive topic.
“How did you know I got into Med School?” Youngjae asks.
“Jaebum told me.”
“Oh,” Youngjae says. It sounds hollow - like he expected something else. “Well, I just wanted to perform. My parents told me it would be hard, but didn’t oppose that much. So I just… didn’t go?”
Daehyun blinks at him. “Is that it? Well, that’s a lot less dramatic then I was expecting.”
“If I really faced that much opposition I wouldn’t try,” Youngjae replies nonchalantly.
“Well, I guess it worked out for the best. I can’t really see you as a doctor,” says Daehyun.
The quiet peace that’d fallen around them was obviously much too good to last. Youngjae narrows his eyes and points an accusing finger in Daehyun’s direction. “What’s that meant to mean?”
“That I can’t see you as a doctor? I don’t know, what other meaning can it have?” Daehyun snaps back, a lot less listless than he was just two minutes ago.
“You can’t see me as a doctor. You hate me as a singer. Is there any variation of me you might be able to tolerate?” He’s standing right beside Daehyun now, forcing him to look up and giving an illusion of power. Daehyun lifts himself off the chair to balance the playing field.
“A version of you that doesn’t antagonize me every chance they get,” Daehyun pushes Youngjae back by the chest, causing him to stumble backwards into the fridge. He reaches out and grasps Daehyun’s sleeve for support, effectively pulling him along for the fall.
“And the winner!” Leeteuk announces into the mic, pausing for dramatic effect. “Of the Oscar for Bad Decisions goes to…”
The crowd waits with baited breath as Leeteuk opens the envelope. He reads the name once, twice, before looking up and declaring.
“Jung Daehyun!”
The applause is thunderous as Daehyun walks up to the stage, dressed in khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt like the bad decision maker he was. Onew of boyband SHINee, the other favourite for the award, rests his forehead on his palms in despair.
Daehyun brings the mike closer, clearing his throat and recalling the thank you speech he’d been rehearsing for the last few days.
“I’m honoured to be bestowed this prestigious award.” Daehyun begins. “But decisions like the one I made don’t happen without external interference.” He scans the crowd for familiar faces - his band was sitting at the very back of the auditorium, beaming up proudly. “So I would like to thank my landlord, Mr. Hwang, for starting the landslide. Bang Yongguk, or else I’d probably be living semi-comfortably as a poor college student. My dear Mother, for accidentally smoking pot while she was pregnant with me. And finally, Jaebum, Himchan, and the rest of my band for fucking with my head and making my bad decision seem little like a decision at all.”
Daehyun really doesn’t want to elaborate on anything. So all he’ll say is that Youngjae tastes like satay.
Steps to Amending Awkward Situations:
1. Establish that everything is okay.
(“Hey, Youngjae! I’ll see you at Music Core today, right?” Daehyun calls just before Youngjae leaves through the door.
Youngjae turns around with a brash “Huh?” His feet however, fail to follow and he collides into the doorframe. “Motherfuck-“ he swears, clutching his head and keeling over.
“Um…” Daehyun begins, “are you okay? Do you need-“
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Youngjae assures, stumbling out of the room. “Yeah, I’ll totally see you at Music Core. I mean, not that I want to. But I probably will see you. Even though we really don’t want to see each other,” he rambles. “Um. Douche!” he yells, shutting the door behind him. Daehyun can hear the hurried footsteps make their way down the hall.)
2. Acknowledge the fact it’s really not a big deal. First to yourself, then to others.
(“Um,” Himchan begins, looking at Daehyun intently. “Did I miss the coming of the apocalypse or something? Or did I not get a memo? What’s going on?”
Daehyun looks up from his magazine. “What are you talking about?”
Himchan clears his throat. “We are in the same room as Youngjae, and there is no yelling. No pushing. No third-grade insults.”
Daehyun looks over to where Youngjae was currently getting styled. The coordi was teasing out his hair into taut spikes, something that Daehyun once laughed at and said made Youngjae look like a pineapple. Now though? Well, Youngjae still looked like a pineapple. But a pineapple with nice lips. The thought makes Daehyun’s palms sweat and he looks away, lest Youngjae catch his eye in the mirror or some other cliché shit.
“We aren’t third graders, hyung. We’ve outgrown that long ago,” Daehyun chortles.
Himchan blinks. “I-what? Did you just fucking chortle. Holy shit. I’m going to need a minute,” he shakes his head, mumbling to himself as he leaves the room in a daze.)
3. Bring it up in casual conversation to show your comfort with the non-situation.
(“So the company just had a small party for us. 2PM’s comeback is in a few weeks, so they’re being a bit prude with their money. But yeah, it was fun,” Jinyoung smiles at the memory. “I’ll probably bore you with the details. I’m sure Youngjae hyung already told you.”
“Nah,” Daehyun refutes. “He didn’t. We just had some dinner and made out for a bit. Continue?”
Jaebum and Jinyoung gape at Daehyun disbelievingly. Finally, Jaebum breaks the standstill and reaches for his water bottle. Taking a long sip and proceeding to spit it out onto Daehyun’s face.
“What the fuck?” Jinyoung shrieks.
Daehyun reaches blindly around the table for a tissue, wiping his face with it and shooting Jaebum a non-discreet glare. “Relax man. It’s not a big deal.”
“Wait, you’re being serious?” Jaebum says, raising an eyebrow. “Oh. I just thought you were finally playing along.”
“Um… get it?” Jinyoung adds weakly.)
4. Address the issue with the other awkward party.
(“Boo,” Daehyun whispers.
Youngjae jumps up violently, knocking over the bottles of products on the table, and sending his chair colliding into Daehyun’s kneecaps.
“Ouch. Good aim,” Daehyun grits out through clenched teeth.
“Oh God, are you okay?” Youngjae says, bending down to expect the damage. At the last minute he hesitates, straightening up and looking Daehyun down. “Ha! Man up, you- you- fail whale.”
“Thanks for that,” Daehyun drawls. “Why don’t you kiss it better?”
Alright, maybe Daehyun should have thought of a better segway. Youngjae flushes pink from his neck to the tip of his ears.
“I-because. You started it! Why don’t you kiss yourself better you instigator!” he all but squeaks.
Daehyun feels like he should really say something to fix whatever he’d caused. Since Youngjae looked like he was having a fit, eyes desperately darting around the room for a way out. Daehyun figures he might as well put him out of his misery.
“Have you done your final sound check yet?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Youngjae clicks his fingers. “Yes! Sound check. I mean, no, I haven’t. I should-I should leave.” He scurries away, almost bumping into Himchan on the way out who mouths a distressed ’what’s going on? in Daehyun’s direction.
“I’m warning you,” Jaebum says, adjusting his headset as he walks past Daehyun, “if you broke him then you’re buying 200 copies of our maxi-single.”
Daehyun has to try very hard to repress a shiver. He could already feel his street cred falling.)
5. Reminisce over the awkward time with each other and share a laugh.
(It’s his apartment. Sure, Youngjae was paying half the rent, but still. Daehyun had its dilapidated ass first.
Daehyun stares through the crack in the door, watching Youngjae lying face down on his mattress and clicking around on his laptop. All Daehyun has to do is burst in obnoxiously, like he always does, announce his presence loudly, and all normalcy will be restored in the world.
He just needs an icebreaker so he doesn’t scare Youngjae away like he did backstage of Music Core. They could bond over their shared love of… first world poverty or something?
Youngjae shifts and his shirt rides up his back, exposing the small arch of skin just above the belt of his pants.
“Fuck it,” Daehyun swears. He grabs his coat and leaves for Yongguk’s place.)
Yoo Youngjae. He liked long walks on the beach, sharing one bowl of ice cream, and holding hands was his favourite form of PDA. His secret turn ons included green eye shadow, nervous stammering, and people who chewed their collars in thought. Daehyun memorizes all this from his old eHarmony profile, but not before saving Youngjae’s unfortunate profile picture (with a Mohawk and everything) for future blackmail.
The awkwardness that had been plaguing them for the past two weeks due to Daehyun’s Bad Decision That Shall Never Be Elaborated On had dissipated into apathy. This was for better or worse. Because although Youngjae didn’t fidget in his presence or run away anymore, he didn’t do anything anymore. For Daehyun, someone whose mere presence should evoke joviality and liveliness, this was fast becoming vexing.
Youngjae could avoid Daehyun all he wanted in their own apartment. But in public, specifically the backstage of Inkigayo, civility was due. So Daehyun approaches Youngjae with confidence that there was going to be no skittish evasion this time around.
Youngjae looks up at him, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before making up his mind. “Um… I like the green eye shadow? Very… environmental.”
“How did rehearsals go?” Daehyun asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning back on the wall.
“They went well, I guess,” Youngjae says. “What about you? I heard one of the amplifiers went wonky.”
“Yeah, it caught us off guard. I got really n-nervous. I can’t get nervous on stage, or else I stammer all my lines,” Daehyun explains.
Jinyoung, who was previously occupied with his phone, looks up at the mention of Daehyun’s stammer and nudges Jaebum with his elbow. Daehyun ignores their incessant sniggering and looks back towards Youngjae. A bright red was beginning to broil itself onto his skin, a clear sign of foreboding arousal.
“Daehyun,” Youngjae whispers harshly, “What are you doing?”
Daehyun purses his lips. “I’m not sure. Let me think about it for a bit.” He bites down on his collar and begins chewing it between his teeth. It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and Jinyoung and Jaebum both collapse on the floor in a heap of boisterous laughter. Youngjae looks like he wants to bury himself in a hole.
“Very funny,” he snips, slapping Daehyun collar away from his mouth. “Thanks for proving we’ve progressed none, Daehyun.” He bumps Daehyun’s shoulder very purposefully as he leaves the room.
Daehyun stands there dumbstruck until Yongguk comes up behind him at taps his shoulder.
“We’re on for broadcast, little elf man,” he teases.
Steps to Amending Awkward Situations:
5.5. Explain your actions leading up to the awkward situation to show regret.
(“Jinyoung and Jaebum made that eHarmony profile when we were 17. I got twenty people interested, fifteen of whom were men above thirty who just wanted me as booty call,” Youngjae explains.
Daehyun sits cross-legged on his top bunk, his stomach churning in embarrassment. Mostly for Youngjae though, since that eHarmony prank sounded awesome. Him, Jaebum, and Jinyoung could have been best friends in another lifetime.
“To be fair on me, some of that cheesy stuff sounded totally plausible,” Daehyun says.
“I can’t believe you actually put on green eye-shadow,” Youngjae shakes his head. “Do you want the D that badly?”
It’s Daehyun’s turn to feel embarrassed. “Far from it. I just figured that you were right.”
“Right about what?” Youngjae asks, voice weary.
Daehyun hoists himself to the edge of the bunk, leaning over the bar and looking down at Youngjae. “That if we want to live together, we should probably start to get along. Get to know more about each other.”
Youngjae furrows his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you just ask?” he questions.)
Daehyun knocks before coming in. He doesn’t actually wait for a response - but it’s a beginning. Youngjae’s current state was that of a hobo. He’d been stuck in bed for three days straight, unshaven, unwashed, and there was a fly circling the crown of his head.
Daehyun clears his throat. “I checked the netizen comments.”
Youngjae screams into his pillow. “I told you not to!” He rolls around, feebly attempting to kick the laptop out of Daehyun’s hands.
Daehyun grabs his foot and pulls him off the bed, ignoring the ’Ow! when Youngjae falls onto the floor with a thud.
“The most up-voted comment was ‘This is not the Im Jaebum I was interested in!’ followed closely by, ‘Kekeke. JYP has gotten so desperate they’re actually buying back albums. I’m more embarrassed for those poor kids,' and ‘Im Jaebum, Park Jinyoung. Who is Yoo Youngjae?’”
Youngjae lifts himself off the floor. “Oh… well, that’s not so bad.”
“It’s actually really embarrassing how no one cares, but it could have been worse.” Daehyun shrugs. “Just proves, things are never as bad as you probably think they are.”
Youngjae sighs and rests his head on his knees. “That M!Countdown win meant nothing then huh? Guess the penthouse will have to wait.”
“Fortunately though, I’m doing a lot better than you,” Daehyun feels the need to add. Youngjae glowers at him from the floor. “It was an invitation!” Daehyun defends. “I’ll treat you out to a pity dinner.” He reaches a hand out to Youngjae, who eyes it suspiciously before accepting it and letting himself be hoisted up.
“Looks like you’re stuck being poor for a while Yoo Youngjae.”
If Daehyun really had to elaborate on The Bad Decision That Shall Never Be Elaborated On, then he’d probably start by saying that Youngjae had really nice eyes. Eyes that would turn crescent shaped as he glared up at Daehyun, chest heaving heavily, and mouth twisted into an angry pout.
Daehyun would also say that he was never the best at resisting temptation. And maybe he wanted to know if Youngjae kissed like a doctor or a performer.
Though the real reason was that at the time, leaning in to kiss Yoo Youngjae seemed like the best decision in the world.
a/n: the most non-plot thing ever written by me. i hope you like it regardless ruintooeasy!! i love daejae, and i loved your prompt! and i had lots of fun writing this, even though i'm not sure it shows.