Tacenda [Got7]
Title: Tacenda [Chapter 1]
Main Character: Jaebum
Warnings: -none-
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,464
Summary: This is a story about things that should not be said.
Notes: New fandom, new writing style~
It starts with a cup of roasted rice tea.
Okay, more likely it started much earlier and deeper than that, but to Jaebum that's when the pieces fall into place. Youngjae is crouched against the greenroom wall, a picture of perfect misery and has almost completely shut himself off from the rest of the world, but for what nobody has any idea. He can be so stubbornly independent at the wrong times. Jaebum would go to him even if only to ask what's wrong, except that... well, Youngjae can be really stubbornly independent when he's like this, and stubborn independence lends easily to fierce loneliness.
It's natural for the rest of the group to notice. Even Jackson's usual exuberance is toned down (although you really need to know Jackson to notice the drop in energy), Mark is shooting furtive glances at Jaebum as if quietly asking him when he's going to step into the Leader Shoes and find out what's wrong, Yugyeom is studiously watching their latest rehearsal for any last minute adjustments, and Bambam is still the same ball of alien restlessness that they can't quite figure out just yet.
They're one member short. It takes a while to notice these things.
But before Jaebum can steel himself to rouse Youngjae, the door opens and Jinyoung steps in with a cup of what smells like rice tea. Lukewarm; but that's understandable, he must have bought it from the other canteen, the one on the far side of the building.
He sits beside Youngjae and just like that they’re enclosed in a tiny bubble of privacy. Jinyoung has perfected the art of speaking quietly. Whatever he says, nobody but Youngjae hears even in a room this cramped.
Pretty soon Youngjae breathes deeply and sighs, takes the cup of tea from Jinyoung and downs it in one long shot.
And right then, when the situation seems to be over, Jaebum gets a hunch.
They have this tradition: Jaebum would drag Jinyoung to the quietest room he can find, Jinyoung would protest because people could start looking for them at any moment, Jaebum would laugh and fill the silence with pointless chatter until Jinyoung starts laughing along.
Jaebum would stand on his hands and try to hold out as long as he can, Jinyoung would time him in counts of verses from songs, then Jaebum would tire and tilt over in Jinyoung's direction. Jinyoung would protest but won't move out of the way, Jinyoung would allow himself to be knocked over. Then they'll lie there in all their awkwardness and... talk. About anything.
Sometimes they talk the night away.
"I think you're my best friend," Jinyoung says once. It was after their debut for Bounce, Jaebum has a sharp memory when he associates them with performances.
Jaebum grins lightly. "Dude, that's not something you think, that's something that just happens."
"Well, it happened." Jinyoung says it like a fact. The sky is blue. Pizza is delicious. You're my best friend. It happened. "I can be very clingy to my best friends," he cautions and Jaebum accepts the warning.
But that was then, and Jaebum thinks it isn't fair to label that moment as the point when everything started. There had been a lot of quiet laughter. A lot of nervous sharing of dreams. A lot of doubts, a lot of 'can we really do this' and 'I have no idea what's going to happen'. There'd been a strained tendon, knotted muscles that Jinyoung couldn't massage away, heartbreak that Jaebum couldn’t console.
That was then and a lot has changed. It's harder to find a quiet room now that they're living with five more guys, it's harder to find the time to breathe now that they're juggling schedules left and right.
But it happens.
One way or another, it still happens.
"You've been holding out on me," Jaebum says, panting from the strain.
"No idea what you're talking about," Jinyoung answers with a grimace from having acted as Jaebum's human crash cushion, saving their charismatic leader from an intimate meeting with the living room floor.
An executive decision was made earlier that day. Mark was put in charge of restocking their diminishing food supplies, which basically means Mark is trying to stop Jackson from spending the whole budget while Jackson is pretending to want nothing more than snacks but he's really following the grocery list in written his head. Bambam is good at disappearing in the crowd, which isn't easy for someone who glows with confidence but somehow he manages it. Yugyeom sometimes tags along.
Jaebum bets that Youngjae is asleep in the car; Jinyoung thinks he's watching football on his phone. (They both forget to check who's right.)
"You never get me drinks," Jaebum starts. Jinyoung doesn't exactly react, but the non-reaction is a clue in itself. They’ve known each other long enough. "And rice tea? That was a pretty specific thing to get him."
Jinyoung shrugs. "He likes it." Shrugging is hard when you're pressed between a cold hard floor and a leader that's determined to talk.
"Not on a regular basis," Jaebum points out. "Not as comfort food. Or at least I didn't think so."
"Dude, seriously, get off-"
"I'm not moving~ Not until you tell me what it is about him that caught you."
Jinyoung stills completely at that. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Jinyoung, come on, I'm not going to judge." Which Jinyoung does know, Jaebum just feels like reminding him. It's not an insult to their friendship that Jinyoung doesn't want to talk about this. He'd been through some very rough times. "But you're my best friend and he's practically my younger brother. I want to know." So I can protect you both if it comes to it, but Jaebum doesn't say that.
"Will you accept it if I say I don't want to talk about it?"
Pause. "I will. Will you listen to me if I say you don't have to suffer through it alone?"
"... I will. Thanks, Jaebum."
"Hey, like I said you're my best friend. Somehow."
Everything seems to work for the most part.
Bambam tries to cook tom yum. Jackson tries to interfere, which basically ends with him sneezing a spoonful of chili powder on Bambam’s face. Yugyeom laughs along even as Bambam desperately tries to stop crying into the sink. Youngjae walks in, takes one look at the situation, and promptly walks back out.
If anyone notices that Jinyoung is starting to spend an awful lot of time outside with Mark, nobody says a word to Jaebum.
“Hyung.”
Jaebum slowly opens his eyes. “Yeah?” The day’s exhaustion is threatening to pull him under but Jaebum believes in being a good hyung.
Youngjae is staring resolutely at the ceiling. The expression is familiar; the body is tired but the mind is wide awake. “Did I do anything wrong?”
Loaded questions are so hard to deal with. “Are we talking about dance?”
“Maybe?” Youngjae hasn’t even looked at him, he’s too wrapped up in what he can see inside his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I know I do a lot of things wrong but-”
“Hey.” Jaebum pushes the fatigue away and takes Youngjae’s hand in his own. “We’re all still learning. And you’re doing your best. We know you can do it.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m not welcome?”
That statement needs a lot of calibration. Jaebum props himself on his elbow, peers at Youngjae in the weak nightlight. This is serious.
“Sometimes,” Youngjae continues, “I feel like everyone’s laughing at something that I don’t get.”
“We’re not-”
Yongjae cuts him off. “I know you’re not laughing at me, hyung, that’s not what I’m driving at.”
“You feel... left out?”
There’s a moment when Jaebum feels like Youngjae’s about to burst, like the monster that’s been eating him up has decided that there’s more prey to be had. (And that Jaebum only discovered this monster when it was already too late. Such a good leader he’s turning out to be.) But the walls hold and Youngjae exhales deeply. He pulls his blanket up to his chin and turns away. “I feel like we should just go get some sleep. Thanks for the talk, hyung. Goodnight.”
It’s hard to tell who feels more lost that night.
A leader uses his resources well.
“I thought everyone knew,” Bambam says, confused. “I mean, it was pretty obvious?”
“I had no fuckin’ idea!” Jaebum practically wails. He normally tries not to curse (he’s a perfectly groomed idol, he reminds himself) but some of the first Korean words Bambam learned were casual street curses and somehow that became a thing.
It’s just how they are. Most of it can be traced back to Jackson anyway.
“Huh.” Bambam shrugs. “It’s been going on for a while. Why bring it up now?”
“Bambam.” Jaebum’s voice echoes beautifully off the steamroom tiles. Shame that humidity plays hell with recording electronics. “You have to tell me these things!”
“It’s hard, okay! Sometimes you guys tell me to shut up, how am I supposed to know what you want me to tell you and what I should just keep quiet about?”
“Listen,” which Jaebum doesn’t really need to say because Bambam listens well. “Anything about the other members? Or about you? Or about the group? These things are important. These things you can tell me even if you think I already know, don’t assume that I already know them. Actually, it’s better to assume that I don’t know them. You guys are worth the overcommunication.”
Bambam nods enthusiastically. Beads of sweat flick everywhere. “Got it. Overcommunication about the members: check.”
“On the other hand, Jackson farting under the blanket and smothering you with it? That doesn’t count.”
“Wait, that’s also about-”
“Bambam.”
Bambam laughs, unabashed. “I get it, don’t worry.” The piece of shit. “I have one more thing to say, though.”
“Which is?”
Bambam leans in and hugs Jaebum tightly in one arm. “You’re doing a great job, hyung. Best leader I can ever hope to have. I’m glad to be on your team.”
Okay, so maybe Jaebum can forgive the sweaty contact just this once.
It’s only when he’s getting propped for makeup that Jaebum realizes Bambam didn’t really say anything about what Jaebum wanted to know.
“Bambam!”
Bambam escapes with a grin, leaving a bemused Yugyeom on the couch.
Youngjae outsings them all that day.
It’s not new, he’s always been a solid vocal, but he’s never left them this far behind before, never left them in the dust when it comes to sheer power and flexibility. He’s never sang these adlibs before, power belting and never going off tune, challenging the chords and leaving everyone gaping.
He’s never deliberately broken the group balance just to catch attention before.
Jaebum is going to have a hard time explaining this to the coaches. Assuming that JYP himself doesn’t hound him.
The chorus of looks that greets him in the training room is dissonant.
There’s Mark’s quiet concern, knowing that Jaebum just came from a severe verbal coaching. There’s Jackson trying to contain himself, a rare show of tact because he can’t decide whether to be proud or proactive. There’s Bambam carefully disentangled from the group, keeping to himself at a corner of the room and watching Jaebum intently. There’s Yugyeom standing motionless, easy to forget that he’s around unless there’s a reason for him to draw attention.
There’s Jinyoung looking exhausted. Which is strange but Jaebum should have expected it.
And there’s Youngjae looking at the floor defiantly. This is not the Youngjae that Jaebum knows.
Some matters are too pressing for tact. Some messages have to be reinforced. “Mark, take everyone to the gym. Flexibility exercises. Jackson, you’re on disciplinary duty.” And that’s the code for ‘some serious shit is about to go down’. Jackson takes his disciplinary duties seriously. “Youngjae, stay here.”
Four of them file out quietly.
Jaebum does not expect Jinyoung to stand between him and Youngjae, to face him and ask for understanding.
“Jae, he-”
“Jinyoung, I won’t be harsh on him.”
Jinyoung nods. Shoots one last look at Youngjae and follows the others out the door.
They wait until the footsteps fade completely. Jaebum watches Youngjae turn his defenses down one by one until he looks nothing more than tired. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Jaebum says flatly, and Youngjae flinches. “Don’t get me wrong, I am so proud of you and how much your vocal skills have grown. You’ve surpassed me completely now. I can’t do those vocal acrobatics and maintain the power and control you just displayed. But even if I could do it, I wouldn’t have. Not yet. Not when the difference between your skills and ours is still so pronounced.”
“Hyung, my voice is the only thing good about me, I have to capitalize on it-”
“If that’s what you learned after everything I taught you, then I’m not as good a mentor as I think I am.”
“Hyung-”
“We’re here as a team. We’re Got7. We aren’t competing with each other, we push each other forward and not leave anyone behind.”
Youngjae looks pained at that. But he keeps quiet.
“Jinyoung and Yugyeom can dance so much harder than they do these days, but they’re holding back because holding back for the sake of teamwork is not a bad thing. We’re a band. Do you know what you should have done?”
“I shouldn’t have kept my growth a secret.” Youngjae says it blankly. As if he’d always known but simply decided against it. “I should have offered to teach everyone. I should have been patient.”
“Yes. Yeah.” Jaebum allows himself to breathe more freely. “So many shoulds, huh?”
“I don’t know how you deal with it, hyung.”
“You’ll learn. I’m here to teach you. Remember?”
The others make it back from the gym looking completely worn out. Jaebum catches sight of them through the studio mirrors. He sees Jinyoung usher the rest off while Youngjae is busy committing the new body angles he learned to muscle memory.
The two of them arrive home when everyone else is cooling down. Jackson left them bowls of dinner on the table, Yugyeom has just started washing the dishes.
“Can you guys eat quickly, please?” Yugyeom asks them. “I really don’t fancy cleaning the sink twice.”
“I’ll wash our dishes, don’t worry,” Youngjae volunteers. Then to Jaebum, “Just eat well, hyung.”
Jinyoung, for all his innate poetry, communicates best through silence.
The way Jinyoung hugs Jaebum from the back, the former in his pajamas and the latter as he steps out of the shower, tells Jaebum that Jinyoung is so very proud of his best friend.
[next]
Main Character: Jaebum
Warnings: -none-
Rating: G
Word Count: 2,464
Summary: This is a story about things that should not be said.
Notes: New fandom, new writing style~
It starts with a cup of roasted rice tea.
Okay, more likely it started much earlier and deeper than that, but to Jaebum that's when the pieces fall into place. Youngjae is crouched against the greenroom wall, a picture of perfect misery and has almost completely shut himself off from the rest of the world, but for what nobody has any idea. He can be so stubbornly independent at the wrong times. Jaebum would go to him even if only to ask what's wrong, except that... well, Youngjae can be really stubbornly independent when he's like this, and stubborn independence lends easily to fierce loneliness.
It's natural for the rest of the group to notice. Even Jackson's usual exuberance is toned down (although you really need to know Jackson to notice the drop in energy), Mark is shooting furtive glances at Jaebum as if quietly asking him when he's going to step into the Leader Shoes and find out what's wrong, Yugyeom is studiously watching their latest rehearsal for any last minute adjustments, and Bambam is still the same ball of alien restlessness that they can't quite figure out just yet.
They're one member short. It takes a while to notice these things.
But before Jaebum can steel himself to rouse Youngjae, the door opens and Jinyoung steps in with a cup of what smells like rice tea. Lukewarm; but that's understandable, he must have bought it from the other canteen, the one on the far side of the building.
He sits beside Youngjae and just like that they’re enclosed in a tiny bubble of privacy. Jinyoung has perfected the art of speaking quietly. Whatever he says, nobody but Youngjae hears even in a room this cramped.
Pretty soon Youngjae breathes deeply and sighs, takes the cup of tea from Jinyoung and downs it in one long shot.
And right then, when the situation seems to be over, Jaebum gets a hunch.
They have this tradition: Jaebum would drag Jinyoung to the quietest room he can find, Jinyoung would protest because people could start looking for them at any moment, Jaebum would laugh and fill the silence with pointless chatter until Jinyoung starts laughing along.
Jaebum would stand on his hands and try to hold out as long as he can, Jinyoung would time him in counts of verses from songs, then Jaebum would tire and tilt over in Jinyoung's direction. Jinyoung would protest but won't move out of the way, Jinyoung would allow himself to be knocked over. Then they'll lie there in all their awkwardness and... talk. About anything.
Sometimes they talk the night away.
"I think you're my best friend," Jinyoung says once. It was after their debut for Bounce, Jaebum has a sharp memory when he associates them with performances.
Jaebum grins lightly. "Dude, that's not something you think, that's something that just happens."
"Well, it happened." Jinyoung says it like a fact. The sky is blue. Pizza is delicious. You're my best friend. It happened. "I can be very clingy to my best friends," he cautions and Jaebum accepts the warning.
But that was then, and Jaebum thinks it isn't fair to label that moment as the point when everything started. There had been a lot of quiet laughter. A lot of nervous sharing of dreams. A lot of doubts, a lot of 'can we really do this' and 'I have no idea what's going to happen'. There'd been a strained tendon, knotted muscles that Jinyoung couldn't massage away, heartbreak that Jaebum couldn’t console.
That was then and a lot has changed. It's harder to find a quiet room now that they're living with five more guys, it's harder to find the time to breathe now that they're juggling schedules left and right.
But it happens.
One way or another, it still happens.
"You've been holding out on me," Jaebum says, panting from the strain.
"No idea what you're talking about," Jinyoung answers with a grimace from having acted as Jaebum's human crash cushion, saving their charismatic leader from an intimate meeting with the living room floor.
An executive decision was made earlier that day. Mark was put in charge of restocking their diminishing food supplies, which basically means Mark is trying to stop Jackson from spending the whole budget while Jackson is pretending to want nothing more than snacks but he's really following the grocery list in written his head. Bambam is good at disappearing in the crowd, which isn't easy for someone who glows with confidence but somehow he manages it. Yugyeom sometimes tags along.
Jaebum bets that Youngjae is asleep in the car; Jinyoung thinks he's watching football on his phone. (They both forget to check who's right.)
"You never get me drinks," Jaebum starts. Jinyoung doesn't exactly react, but the non-reaction is a clue in itself. They’ve known each other long enough. "And rice tea? That was a pretty specific thing to get him."
Jinyoung shrugs. "He likes it." Shrugging is hard when you're pressed between a cold hard floor and a leader that's determined to talk.
"Not on a regular basis," Jaebum points out. "Not as comfort food. Or at least I didn't think so."
"Dude, seriously, get off-"
"I'm not moving~ Not until you tell me what it is about him that caught you."
Jinyoung stills completely at that. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Jinyoung, come on, I'm not going to judge." Which Jinyoung does know, Jaebum just feels like reminding him. It's not an insult to their friendship that Jinyoung doesn't want to talk about this. He'd been through some very rough times. "But you're my best friend and he's practically my younger brother. I want to know." So I can protect you both if it comes to it, but Jaebum doesn't say that.
"Will you accept it if I say I don't want to talk about it?"
Pause. "I will. Will you listen to me if I say you don't have to suffer through it alone?"
"... I will. Thanks, Jaebum."
"Hey, like I said you're my best friend. Somehow."
Everything seems to work for the most part.
Bambam tries to cook tom yum. Jackson tries to interfere, which basically ends with him sneezing a spoonful of chili powder on Bambam’s face. Yugyeom laughs along even as Bambam desperately tries to stop crying into the sink. Youngjae walks in, takes one look at the situation, and promptly walks back out.
If anyone notices that Jinyoung is starting to spend an awful lot of time outside with Mark, nobody says a word to Jaebum.
“Hyung.”
Jaebum slowly opens his eyes. “Yeah?” The day’s exhaustion is threatening to pull him under but Jaebum believes in being a good hyung.
Youngjae is staring resolutely at the ceiling. The expression is familiar; the body is tired but the mind is wide awake. “Did I do anything wrong?”
Loaded questions are so hard to deal with. “Are we talking about dance?”
“Maybe?” Youngjae hasn’t even looked at him, he’s too wrapped up in what he can see inside his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I know I do a lot of things wrong but-”
“Hey.” Jaebum pushes the fatigue away and takes Youngjae’s hand in his own. “We’re all still learning. And you’re doing your best. We know you can do it.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m not welcome?”
That statement needs a lot of calibration. Jaebum props himself on his elbow, peers at Youngjae in the weak nightlight. This is serious.
“Sometimes,” Youngjae continues, “I feel like everyone’s laughing at something that I don’t get.”
“We’re not-”
Yongjae cuts him off. “I know you’re not laughing at me, hyung, that’s not what I’m driving at.”
“You feel... left out?”
There’s a moment when Jaebum feels like Youngjae’s about to burst, like the monster that’s been eating him up has decided that there’s more prey to be had. (And that Jaebum only discovered this monster when it was already too late. Such a good leader he’s turning out to be.) But the walls hold and Youngjae exhales deeply. He pulls his blanket up to his chin and turns away. “I feel like we should just go get some sleep. Thanks for the talk, hyung. Goodnight.”
It’s hard to tell who feels more lost that night.
A leader uses his resources well.
“I thought everyone knew,” Bambam says, confused. “I mean, it was pretty obvious?”
“I had no fuckin’ idea!” Jaebum practically wails. He normally tries not to curse (he’s a perfectly groomed idol, he reminds himself) but some of the first Korean words Bambam learned were casual street curses and somehow that became a thing.
It’s just how they are. Most of it can be traced back to Jackson anyway.
“Huh.” Bambam shrugs. “It’s been going on for a while. Why bring it up now?”
“Bambam.” Jaebum’s voice echoes beautifully off the steamroom tiles. Shame that humidity plays hell with recording electronics. “You have to tell me these things!”
“It’s hard, okay! Sometimes you guys tell me to shut up, how am I supposed to know what you want me to tell you and what I should just keep quiet about?”
“Listen,” which Jaebum doesn’t really need to say because Bambam listens well. “Anything about the other members? Or about you? Or about the group? These things are important. These things you can tell me even if you think I already know, don’t assume that I already know them. Actually, it’s better to assume that I don’t know them. You guys are worth the overcommunication.”
Bambam nods enthusiastically. Beads of sweat flick everywhere. “Got it. Overcommunication about the members: check.”
“On the other hand, Jackson farting under the blanket and smothering you with it? That doesn’t count.”
“Wait, that’s also about-”
“Bambam.”
Bambam laughs, unabashed. “I get it, don’t worry.” The piece of shit. “I have one more thing to say, though.”
“Which is?”
Bambam leans in and hugs Jaebum tightly in one arm. “You’re doing a great job, hyung. Best leader I can ever hope to have. I’m glad to be on your team.”
Okay, so maybe Jaebum can forgive the sweaty contact just this once.
It’s only when he’s getting propped for makeup that Jaebum realizes Bambam didn’t really say anything about what Jaebum wanted to know.
“Bambam!”
Bambam escapes with a grin, leaving a bemused Yugyeom on the couch.
Youngjae outsings them all that day.
It’s not new, he’s always been a solid vocal, but he’s never left them this far behind before, never left them in the dust when it comes to sheer power and flexibility. He’s never sang these adlibs before, power belting and never going off tune, challenging the chords and leaving everyone gaping.
He’s never deliberately broken the group balance just to catch attention before.
Jaebum is going to have a hard time explaining this to the coaches. Assuming that JYP himself doesn’t hound him.
The chorus of looks that greets him in the training room is dissonant.
There’s Mark’s quiet concern, knowing that Jaebum just came from a severe verbal coaching. There’s Jackson trying to contain himself, a rare show of tact because he can’t decide whether to be proud or proactive. There’s Bambam carefully disentangled from the group, keeping to himself at a corner of the room and watching Jaebum intently. There’s Yugyeom standing motionless, easy to forget that he’s around unless there’s a reason for him to draw attention.
There’s Jinyoung looking exhausted. Which is strange but Jaebum should have expected it.
And there’s Youngjae looking at the floor defiantly. This is not the Youngjae that Jaebum knows.
Some matters are too pressing for tact. Some messages have to be reinforced. “Mark, take everyone to the gym. Flexibility exercises. Jackson, you’re on disciplinary duty.” And that’s the code for ‘some serious shit is about to go down’. Jackson takes his disciplinary duties seriously. “Youngjae, stay here.”
Four of them file out quietly.
Jaebum does not expect Jinyoung to stand between him and Youngjae, to face him and ask for understanding.
“Jae, he-”
“Jinyoung, I won’t be harsh on him.”
Jinyoung nods. Shoots one last look at Youngjae and follows the others out the door.
They wait until the footsteps fade completely. Jaebum watches Youngjae turn his defenses down one by one until he looks nothing more than tired. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Jaebum says flatly, and Youngjae flinches. “Don’t get me wrong, I am so proud of you and how much your vocal skills have grown. You’ve surpassed me completely now. I can’t do those vocal acrobatics and maintain the power and control you just displayed. But even if I could do it, I wouldn’t have. Not yet. Not when the difference between your skills and ours is still so pronounced.”
“Hyung, my voice is the only thing good about me, I have to capitalize on it-”
“If that’s what you learned after everything I taught you, then I’m not as good a mentor as I think I am.”
“Hyung-”
“We’re here as a team. We’re Got7. We aren’t competing with each other, we push each other forward and not leave anyone behind.”
Youngjae looks pained at that. But he keeps quiet.
“Jinyoung and Yugyeom can dance so much harder than they do these days, but they’re holding back because holding back for the sake of teamwork is not a bad thing. We’re a band. Do you know what you should have done?”
“I shouldn’t have kept my growth a secret.” Youngjae says it blankly. As if he’d always known but simply decided against it. “I should have offered to teach everyone. I should have been patient.”
“Yes. Yeah.” Jaebum allows himself to breathe more freely. “So many shoulds, huh?”
“I don’t know how you deal with it, hyung.”
“You’ll learn. I’m here to teach you. Remember?”
The others make it back from the gym looking completely worn out. Jaebum catches sight of them through the studio mirrors. He sees Jinyoung usher the rest off while Youngjae is busy committing the new body angles he learned to muscle memory.
The two of them arrive home when everyone else is cooling down. Jackson left them bowls of dinner on the table, Yugyeom has just started washing the dishes.
“Can you guys eat quickly, please?” Yugyeom asks them. “I really don’t fancy cleaning the sink twice.”
“I’ll wash our dishes, don’t worry,” Youngjae volunteers. Then to Jaebum, “Just eat well, hyung.”
Jinyoung, for all his innate poetry, communicates best through silence.
The way Jinyoung hugs Jaebum from the back, the former in his pajamas and the latter as he steps out of the shower, tells Jaebum that Jinyoung is so very proud of his best friend.
[next]