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raethethey · 1 year

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Exhaustion

Member: Bang Chan x gn!reader (if i made mistakes pls let me know)

Word Count: 5128

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst

Warnings: swearing, breakdown, crying, mentions of overbearing parents, lack of sleep, talk of mental (and other) health, loss of appetite, mentions of food. (again if I missed smth pls let me know)

A/N: pls dear god i have not written anything in forever this was reread so many times but if there are mistakes, you didn't see them <3. no I am not out of my writers block but I challenged myself in the last few months to work on it just a lil at a time and I finally finished it. enjoy!! :)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

You knock quietly on the door to the studio. No answer, but that’s expected. Chan is usually hard at work with the music turned up quite loud in his favorite pair of headphones. Not wanting to disturb his flow, you open the door and step inside. As if he has some sort of radar for you, Chan turns around. Upon seeing you, he smiles, the bright expression raising his eyebrows and cheeks, dimples deepening. You can’t help but return the smile. It doesn’t quite reach your eyes like it did his; he notices this almost immediately. You sit on the couch at the back of the room. Chan turns back around to his computer to pause and minimise the file he was working on before returning his attention to you.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice is calm and exactly what you needed.

“Hey. Nothing really, just missed you.” You give him a teasing wink while lying through your teeth. He already worries too much as it is, telling him this would send him reeling.

He glances at the ground, a tell you’ve noticed when you know he wants to push the conversation, but he doesn’t want to push your boundaries.

He settles with, “Are you sure? Exams are coming up; I know you’re stressed about those, but you’ll do fine. You always do.”

“Heh, yeah finals are definitely gonna kick my ass, but really, I’m fine. Just need to relax is all.” You grin at him from across the room hoping the glimmer in your eyes is taken as exhaustion rather than trying to hold back tears.

He nods, swinging his chair back and forth a little with his feet planted on the floor, eyes never leaving yours. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

He makes it really hard to not cry when he looks at you like that. There’s no judgment in his eyes as he starts to roll his chair toward the couch you’re sitting on. He stops when he’s right in front of you, hands reaching towards yours as they fidget in your lap ever restless. He starts massaging them, sandwiching them in his own as he forces your fists flat. He rubs them together and then separates them, taking a hand in each of his own palms up. He rubs his thumb in the center of each palm for a few seconds before moving to your thumbs’ bases and then the opposite side of the palms. Another few seconds and he drops one hand, using both of his own to pull your fingers one by one just gently enough to release pressure in your joints. Again with the other hand and then he grabs both again.

He sits there holding your hands and looking at you like nothing else in the world matters at the moment. His thumbs caress the back of your hands this time, not a massage, but just a constant feeling. A reassuring touch that has you sniffling.

In just moments he has you bundled in his arms as tears stream down your face. He pulls you onto his lap, shutting down any protests with soft hushes. He whispers encouraging words, random nothings, and that he’s always here for you as he runs his hand up and down your back, squeezing your arm occasionally. ‘It’s okay to cry.’ ‘Let it all out.’ ‘It’s just me and you in here.’ ‘You’re going to be okay.’

You don’t know how much time passes until you finally calm down, the hiccups subsiding and the shaking turning from tremors to shivers. His voice is barely a whisper you have to strain your ears to hear. The last tears soak into his sweatshirt like the rest of them. Your grip loosens as well, all strength leaving your body.

He rocks his chair back and forth again like he’s cradling a baby to sleep. The soothing motion almost gets you, but you sit up. He tightens his grip on you, scared you’ll fall from the abrupt movement. His eyes are wide as he looks at you.

“You good?” His voice is small like you’re a wild animal and he doesn’t want to scare you off by being too loud.

You clear your throat prepared for it to crack when you open your mouth, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you like this. I just needed somewhere to go to let it out, but I didn't know where else to go and I thought you were going to continue working, not look at me like I’m a frail baby bird who just fell out of a tree and I couldn’t stop the flood. I was just going to cry silently and look and pictures of squirrels and shit.”

The side of his mouth quirks down in silent disappointment. He says your name so softly, it almost has you bawling again, “I’m always worried about you. And I just get more worried when I don’t know what’s going on. You’re my best friend and I want to do what I can to help. Letting you cry on my shoulder, soaking up my sweatshirt, is one way. Listening to you rub snot into it is another, but for you, I’d bear it.”

You snort and wipe your nose with the back of your hand, now self-conscious about its running. The jab made you feel better, but only a little. Chan is good at that. Getting your mood to change like the snap of his fingers.

He holds on to your legs over his lap as he slides his chair backward rolling towards the desk. He plucks some tissues out of the tiny box next to his keyboard and hands you a few.

“Thanks,” you rasp out, “Sorry about your sweatshirt.”

“Hey, I’ve got like a million of them. No worries.” He watches as you blow your nose, a feat you think would have anyone else grossing out over. “Speaking of my sweatshirts, is that one mine?” He grabs the fabric of the sweatshirt you’re currently wearing near your stomach and rubs it between his fingers.

You look down upon the realization and sheepishly make eye contact, “No..?”

“Liar.” He tsks, no bite behind it.

A comfortable silence settles upon you as you finish cleaning your nose and wiping your face free of tears. He throws the tissues out when you’re done with them, shooting them like basketballs into a hoop that is the tin can on the other side of the room. He misses two.

“I’ll get them when we leave.” He wraps his arms around your waist, clasping his hands together, and leans his head on the back of his chair, “Takeout?”

“Yes please.”

“Chinese, tacos, burgers,-” He starts listing fast food options as he goes to grab his phone.

You interrupt already making up your mind, “Tacos.”

His mouth quirks up. “Tacos it is.” He orders quickly adding in an extra few tacos in case you’re hungrier than you thought. When the food is ordered he puts his phone face down on the desk again, “It’ll be here in 23 minutes. 27 if they don’t find the room number immediately.”

“Thank you, Channie.”

“Anytime, hun.” He pulls you in closer again, your head falling on his shoulder. Seconds tick by before you feel him take a breath and clear his throat. You can tell he needs to know what’s going on because if he doesn’t find out, it’ll bug him forever.

Before he can pose a question, you steel yourself and answer, “Nothing is going right anymore. My grades have been slipping for a few weeks, my parents are on my ass about it, work has been draining and a constant petri dish for stress, not to mention I’ve barely seen you these past few weeks because we’ve both been busy. I’m falling apart at the seams and it seems like no one is noticing. Not that I’ve been readily telling everyone the truth when they ask how I’m doing, but I just want someone to realise how badly I’m lying. Every time I say I’m tired, I’m exhausted; running on three hours of sleep. Every time I say I just need a vacation day, I really need an entire year off to recuperate. I’m sick of this constant barrage on my mental health, my physical health, even my emotional health. And the cherry on top? My only love interest said he still had feelings for his ex, so he broke off our weird talking stage thing, whatever it was we had, to try again with them. The universe hates me, Channie.” You play with your hoodie strings as you rattle off your list of problems.

You let him ponder your words. “That’s a lot. I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy as well, but even so, I always have time for you, you know that right? I don’t care if I have a project due at midnight, I’d drop it to make you feel better. I know you said you don’t want to worry me, but like I said, I always worry anyways. As for your grades, you’ll get them up, I believe in you. Your parents, as lovely as they are in front of guests can be assholes behind the scenes. Just ignore the messages that make you feel bad. Just because they’re your parents doesn’t mean they deserve your attention or success, You deserve better than a magnifying glass on your back. And screw whoever that guy is, he wasn’t good enough for you anyways.”

“Chan, he’s not a bad guy. It was just-”

“Nope. I don’t care. Guy can go step on a rake.”

You shake your head at his childish antics. “Okay fine, maybe I’d like to see that, but that doesn’t mean he deserves it. He really is a good guy. In fact, I think you know him. Who am I kidding, you know everyone? You know Jaehyun? Business major, great hair, dimples? He’s friends with that Taeyong guy that’s in the same dance class as Minho.”

“Oh. Yeah, I do know him. I didn’t know you were talking to him?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I was. He was cute, but he’s really set on becoming this big CEO at a really young age. Like, before he actually graduates somehow. He’s not really a fun person to talk to unless he’s tipsy. And I’d rather not live my entire life talking to someone I’d only like when drunk because that’s a problem in itself.”

Chan hums in agreement. Something akin to an awkward silence fills the room. It’s an odd experience you’ve never felt around Chan until now. In all your years of friendship, never once has it been uncomfortable. The silence doesn’t last long as a knock brings you both back to the present.

“Food’s here.” He rolls to the door, you still sitting securely on his lap.

Upon opening the door, a surprised noise escapes all three parties. Taeyong stands there with the taco bags in hand. The initial shock wears off as he realises he’s here to do his job and not gawk at what is quite a surprising scene to him. He hands Chan the bags who sets them on his lap which is actually your lap because you’re still sitting there from your breakdown. Chan, only aware of the fact that one of the subjects you were just talking about is now standing at his studio door, is completely oblivious to the compromising position you’ve been put in.

You and Taeyong share a knowing, but awkward look while Chan greets him, “Hey, Lee Taeyong right?”

“Yep. That’s me. You're Bang Chan. I know ‘cuz Minho complains about you a lot after class.” He turns to look at you, “Hey, y/n.”

“Hey.”

A beat passes as Taeyong stands in the doorway. “Listen, I know it’s kinda awkward about what went down with Jae and you, but I wanted to let you know, that I still think you’re pretty cool and if we could be friends, that’d be cool too. And I’m also happy for you.”

“Happy for me? For having a guy break it off because he’s still in love with his ex?”

“Well not that part, but you bounced back pretty well. You and Chan look cute together by the way. We’ve all been wondering when that was gonna happen and I guess it took Jae to make it happen, huh? Anyways, gotta go! Bye!” Before either of you could respond to that, he bounds off to make his next delivery.

Chan gently shuts the door as Taeyong’s words flow through your minds, the vibrations and image seeming to sear themselves in your brains.

He rolls back to the desk inch by inch, but before he gets there, you spring up, taco bags in hand. It snaps him out of shock and he puts his hands out to either side of you in case he needs to stabilise you or catch the food.

“He thinks we’re dating,” Is all you say. No other way to segue into the conversation but that. “Why does he think we’re dating? I mean I know I was sitting on your lap, but he said, ‘we’ve all been wondering when that was gonna happen.’” You place the bags on the small coffee table and start pacing, “What does that mean? Does everyone think we’re dating? Does it look like we’re dating? Is that the real reason Jae broke it off? What if there is no ex? I’ve never actually seen him around with anyone, what if it was just a lie because he thought we had something going on? What if every time I’ve ever had a love interest they backed off because of you.” You point a wagging finger at him. “Every crush in high school, even middle school! What if they’ve always thought we were together.” You throw your hands up, “Chan, say something!” Unknowing of the turmoil you’re putting him through, Chan just shrugs. Unable to answer any of your questions.

He may have very well been at fault for all those potential partners backing off. It’s not like he said anything to them, but maybe he was just a bit obvious with the way he acts around you. Maybe not you because this information seems to be new to you. He thought you knew people suspected you were together. From an outsider’s view (and he’s had many tell him their point of view. See: Changbin, Jisung, Minho, etc.), it’s difficult to know the truth based on what they see.

You’re always joined at the hip, his arm around your waist or shoulder, your arms around his neck in a tight embrace, holding hands when it’s cold. It’s hard to differentiate flirting with teasing from a decade-old friendship. And not to mention he is in love with you.

“I thought you knew.” Is all he says.

You stop pacing back and forth and look at him, “What? You thought I knew what? That people seriously think we’re together? Chan, we’re just best friends.”

He flinches. He knows you didn’t mean to say it as a rejection, but it still hurts hearing it. He hates saying it himself.

“Baby, is it really that big of a deal? We’re close. It happens.” The nickname slips out.

“THAT! See that’s why people think we’re dating. Because we act like it! We hold hands, you kiss my cheek, you call me baby and hun and sweetie.” You tick each reason off on your fingers. “No one believes me when I say we aren’t. I have to tell everyone! I can’t have my future partners thinking I’m dating my best friend. I’ll get nowhere with them and then they’ll think I’m trying to cheat on you with them.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want space? So people don’t see us together. If they don’t believe we were never together, we’ll have to act like we broke up.” He can’t believe what he’s saying.

“No, I want you to be next to me when I tell people so you can back me up. This rumor has probably spilled into the next city over. I’ll tell Bin and Sung to spread it as well. If anyone asks them, I’ll have them say, ‘No they aren’t dating. Never have been. If you don’t believe me, I have orders to call them and confirm.’ Does that sound good? We can nip it in the bud faster if we cover more ground.”

He tries not to sound like a kicked puppy when he says, “Yeah, sure okay.” He turns his chair around to grab napkins and plastic plates from under his desk. He stashed them there because of all the late nights he and the rest of 3Racha have had there. He rolls to the coffee table and starts pulling the food out of the bag as you plop on the couch to begin eating.

When you’re close to finishing up, Chan wipes his face and hands with his napkin.

“Done already? You usually eat a lot more than that.” He only had three tacos, same as you.

“Yeah, don’t really have an appetite right now.” He spins his chair around and boots up his computer, “I’m gonna work a little more on my project, feel free to stay if you want. Or leave, it’s kinda late already.”

You stare at the back of his head. Ever since Taeyong left, he’s been really quiet. You ate in total silence. Usually, it’s more filled with laughter and short stories about stupid things your friends did. You glance at the clock, it’s only 9:00 pm. The studio closes at 10:00.

Maybe you overreacted about the dating news. Maybe it really isn’t that big of a deal. You like your dynamic with Chan. It’s calm, comfortable. You don’t think you could live without him by your side. The small pecks he leaves on the top of your head ground you sometimes, and he’s always a human heater in the cold, you don’t want to have to give up holding his hands. The nicknames do funky things to your brain, but you like them. It means he’s comfortable around you too. And even if you’re not dating, you know you both care so much about the other. Over ten years of friendship will do that to people.

You can see why your classmates and random people on the street would think you were in love. You also haven’t been able to prove it, but you swear you’ve caught him staring at you with a certain look countless times. You’ve tried to get your friends to see for you, but they say he’s looking at you like he always does, there’s nothing odd about it.

Still, going around making sure everyone knows you aren’t dating is the best option in your mind. It’ll help you set reality apart from your deepest desires.

You’ve been in love with Chan for as long as you can remember. Years of pining after him have created a sore spot in your heart. To hear that people think this about you when it’s all you’ve ever wanted, knowing it’ll never come true is like tearing the scab off just to have it bleed more.

You start packing up the food you didn’t eat and throw away the garbage in silence. Awkwardness once again festering in the air. When you’re done cleaning up you lay on the couch taking out your phone. You don’t know when you fell asleep but when you wake up, there’s a blanket on top of you, one from the stash he keeps under the couch. Even if he’s busy he finds some way to take care of you. Some way to make your heart flutter. It aches.

You pull the blanket up to your chin, rolling to the side. You can see the silhouette of his head over his chair, the lights turned off in the studio save for the bright computer screen. His headphones fit snuggly over his ears, blocking out any sounds.

You think about what happened tonight. Your breakdown, him holding you, seeing your not-quite-ex’s friend, your outburst. And his reaction. You recall his flinch when you said you were just friends. He flinched for god’s sake. And he looked completely torn in two for the next half hour before going back to his project.

So you definitely overreacted. In trying so hard to draw the line between what you have and what you want, you created a barrier between you and the person you care about the most. You stated what you thought should happen to keep the line to protect yourself not taking in Chan’s opinion or anything. This rumor involves you both, the decision on what to do about it probably should too.

Standing up, you pull the blanket around your shoulders like a cape and walk to stand behind him just to watch him work. His fingers slide over the keyboard with practiced ease, his right hand flitting between it and the mouse. You see the time in the bottom right-hand corner: 9:38pm. When you bend to place your hands on your knees, you hear his breath catch next to you. You glance at his face, catching his eyes on you. You hold the eye contact.

“Are you okay?” It’s a whisper. One you know he can’t hear. His eyes jump to your lips and you repeat yourself, “Are you okay?”

He takes a breath, nods, and turns right back to his project.

You huff, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. So much for a plan, right? You turn to go back to the couch, but an arm stops you. You look down at the hand resting on your elbow and then at Chan. His gaze is directed at his knees. You turn to him waiting, his hand falling to your hip.

He licks his lips, you see his adam’s apple bob, his jaw clench. His hand that isn’t stopping you from leaving rubs his face for a second before resting on his chin, knuckles on his lower lip.

“Channie?” You can tell he heard you even with his headphones on when he squeezes your side. He slips his headphones off and rolls a little bit away from the desk still gripping your side like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry.” He starts.

“No, Channie, you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s all me. I think I overreacted over Taeyong’s words and that hurt you. I wasn’t thinking about your point of view. I mean truthfully I wasn’t even thinking about my own point of view. I just…” You sigh.

The next few words you say, you’ll have to think carefully. If you confess to your true feelings it may scare him off or worse, disgust him. But this is Chan you’re talking to. Your best friend in the whole world, the most precious person on earth to you. There’s no way he’d hate you, right? Maybe let you down slowly, but he wouldn’t ask you to never speak to or see him again. He couldn’t possibly be that cruel.

He takes your hands in his. You had started wringing them and twisting your fingers in what looks like uncomfortable angles. “Just what?” He asks. His eyes are on you now, completely focused on you and what you’re trying to get yourself to say. They’re soft and open. He’s quietly telling you it’s okay to be vulnerable around him. He’ll always be here for you and there’s nothing to be scared about.

That’s all you needed. “I just don’t know how to go about pretending not to know that everyone we know thinks we’re dating when we’re not and it’s all I’ve ever wanted for a while now.” Your eyes start to wander around the room. If you look at him now, you’ll never be able to finish. “I mean I don’t know when I started to see you differently, it may have been forever, but we’ve always been best friends.

“I didn’t think the way I loved you was anything other than that until I started talking to Jaehyun. And after we stopped I just had some time to really think about what I wanted and… Channie I want you. But I know I can’t have you because we are just best friends and you’ll never see me that way. Not in a million years and that just tore my heart.

“So I guess I was trying to separate reality from fantasy when I started spewing on about how we have to make sure everyone knows we aren’t together because if anyone can think there’s something between us, it’s gonna be me. And I should’ve taken your opinion into count when I started planning on how to tell people. I was just scared. I’m really, so sorry, Channie. Please forgive me.”

After your monologue, you finally look at him. There’s shock, amusement, maybe even some sadness, and something else you can’t quite place on his face. The mixed emotions are jumbled together as he just stares at you. He opens his mouth to form words, but closes it again. You left him utterly speechless. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, you don’t know. You won’t know unless he says something. Anything.

“Channie?” You start to worry your lip. It’s already raw, showing how much stress you’ve been under for quite some time. The fact that you just confessed to your best friend is only adding to the situation.

Before you can think to run away or try changing the subject, his lip twitches. And then a smile grows, larger, wider until you feel his face might split from the intensity of his grin. He still can’t form words, but he tugs on your arm just a bit, pulling you down onto his familiar lap.

Your faces are close, close enough to see the slight blush bloom across his soft features worn my exhaustion. Finally, he speaks, “I cannot explain how utterly happy I am to hear you say any of that. I may have also overreacted to your reaction and for that, I still apologise, but knowing what I know now I think my reaction was completely normal for having someone you love tell you so vehemently that you’re just best friends. To hear that and think that’s all you’ll ever be when you’ve wanted more for so long. To think that there wasn’t even a possibility of more.

But there is. We were both just terrified.”

Now it’s your turn to be gobsmacked. Your jaw hits the floor and he starts giggling. Whether it’s because you look hilariously cute shell-shocked, or because he’s filled with euphoria he doesn’t know.

“Someone you what?” Your eyes flit back and forth searching for an answer in his shining eyes.

It’s written so clearly you’re surprised you hadn’t seen it before. “Love. Someone I love, y/n.”

“How long?”

“Years. Possibly since I met you.”

“Channie we were children. Diapers and binkies while our moms had tea and talked shit about our neighbors.”

He smirks, “Then, yeah, definitely since we met. But I only realised it a few years ago; in highschool. It was that super cliche teenage rom-com scene when you walked into prom looking like a fairytale and I thought I shit myself and then imploded.” He shoves his hands together imitating a can being crushed.

Your hands fly to your hair, carding through it. “Holy fuck. Holy cow. I can’t believe it. You let me date the worst people when I could’ve been dating you, you bastard!”

“Hey! Like we’ve established I was fucking terrified of losing my best friend, okay? And you were too! Also, all those people were solely your choice, I did nothing but try to befriend them for you.” He grabs your finger that jabbed at his chest and turns it back toward you.

“You should’ve punched them in the face and whisked me away.” Slipping the rest of your fingers into his grasp, you clasp his hand and squeeze.

He squeezes right back.

Cocking your head to the side, you sigh. “Now what? We’re here now. Both in the know, mutually agreeing.”

“Now? Now we tell Hannie he owes Binnie $20 because you confessed first.”

You furrow your brow, “They bet on us? Actually, you know what, that is entirely unsurprising. But no, I mean what’s next? What are we?”

He smiles that same smile you fell in love with all that time ago, dimples and all. “We’re Channie and y/n as we’ve always been. Best friends who love each other; who would go to the ends of the earth for one another. We cuddle, hold hands, call each other pet names, and now we go on dates. Kiss? More?” He blushes again, the tips of his ears redder than a tomato.

You take his flushed face into your hands feeling the heat roll off them. Whispering, you lean in closer, “I like the idea of that. But not right now. You’re exhausted and we need sleep. We should probably get out of here soon to make that happen.”

He pouts.

“Oh, stop that. If we’re quick enough we can probably catch the bus back to my place. Then we can kiss as much as you want.”

He exaggerates his pout even more looking like a kicked puppy.

You can’t help but fawn over him silently. Rolling your eyes playfully, you swoop in and peck him on the lips. It’s short, not even a second long, but it has him chasing for more when you pull away. You’re tempted to give him what he wants now, but it’s been a long day and you’d rather not have your first real kiss in a public recording room that smells like tacos and feet. You tell him as much when you stand up and start gathering your items to leave.

He acquiesces, saving his project and logging out. When you’re both ready to leave, he snatches up your hand and kisses the back of it as you walk out of the room.

The bus ride seems longer than usual or you’re just anxious to get back home. Chan has stayed over plenty of times, cuddling all throughout the night, but this time it’s different. Tomorrow promises new adventures with the man beside you and you can’t wait to start them.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Bonus:

“I promise it’s not just the exhaustion talking, but you look absolutely radiant right now.”

“Baby, I’m wearing elf-on-the-shelf pjs with a toy story t-shirt that I’ve had since I was 10.”

“As I said, radiant.”

“Love you too, Channie.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

#bang chan #bang chan fluff #stray kids #stray kids chan #stray kids fluff #skz bang chan #skz fluff #skz chan #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers #<5k #Exhaustion

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287aus · 1 year

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#yeonbin ੈ♡‬༉ ・ jealousy, love confessions (1.6k)

yeonjun isn’t giving soobin the reaction he wants. he wants to be chased after. wants an ounce of his attention. but what yeonjun says leaves soobin more confused than ever.

or: where yeonjun says, “like i care, do whatever you want. go out all you want. at the end of the day, you’ll come back to me. and when you do, i’ll make sure you never forget why it’s me. always me in the very end.”

# semi toxic, semi idiots in love, semi crack

There’s an eerie silence between them, an unsettling thickness that makes Yeonjun feel lightyears away. Soobin always has doubts—not anything to do with Yeonjun directly, but himself. If he makes one wrong move with Yeonjun, that could be it. It’s not long until he’s bound to do something that will make them grow sour towards each other. They’re long past the phase of getting to know each other, but they aren’t exclusive either. It seems easy for Yeonjun to leave without reason. It is what Soobin fears for most.

So the heaviness? Maybe it’s just all in his head. He hasn’t done anything wrong—not that he knows of. It must truly mean there is nothing wrong. And yet…he feels it. Still feels it. It’s not in his head is it?

“Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun hums but the glow of his phone screen still reflects on his entire face. He doesn’t spare any of his attention towards Soobin.

Soobin decides to shift, giving them room on the couch until he’s bumping against the arm rest.

“Do you not want to spend time with me?” he says when Yeonjun doesn’t acknowledge their distance.

With a small sigh, Yeonjun pockets his phone into his lap and finally gives Soobin the eye contact he’s been longing for since he first stepped foot into the apartment. Yes. Yeonjun did not spare a glance at Soobin the entire visit. He simply kissed Soobin’s cheek and gestured him in before closing the door. Soobin became a host for himself, grabbed his own glass of water and invited himself onto the couch and tuned into whatever Yeonjun was already watching.

“What are you talking about?” Yeonjun huffs, one leg crossing over the other as he seems to shift uncomfortably.

“I don’t—you…I don’t really understand what we’re doing anymore.” It’s Soobin’s fears speaking for him. He’s been walking on eggshells for weeks. In the middle of the dozens of street vendors, under the moon and stars, Soobin found him. Truly realized that he wanted Yeonjun more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire life. Maybe since then, he’s been more vulnerable, voicing out his truths and worries around Yeonjun, more clingy, kissing every inch of Yeonjun’s face—just so fucking in love. Yeonjun must know, must want to break it to him easily. That he doesn’t feel the same way.

“Well what do you want to do, Soobin?” Yeonjun says, in a way that’s cold and snarky, like he wants this conversation to die out already.

Soobin ignores one question for another, “Why are you so busy these days?”

“Hardly busy.”

“Are you seeing other people?”

“Do you think I am? What if I am?”

It’s like he can hear it. The way his heart stops beating, followed with thorns in his throat. “Are you?”

“Am I?”

Soobin clenches his fists, simultaneously with the way he squints his eyes, refusing to let the prickles in his eyes turn into full grown tears. “Why can’t you answer normally? Stop beating around all of this. I’m already trying to talk to you clearly.”

“And if I said I am?”

“Then I’m going out,” Soobin argues while getting up, already pulling his jean jacket from the edge of the couch, flinging it over his shoulders as he punches his hands into the arm holes.

“Where could you possibly be going on a Friday night, at what…midnight?”

“Where would I go? Where do you think we met at this hour?” Soobin retorts snarkily. He doesn’t know what compels him to state such vile words—to spit lies. He hardly wants to be anywhere tonight but in Yeonjun’s arms. He does not want to go to their favorite vibrant bar where he met Yeonjun, without Yeonjun. He definitely does not want to hook up with anybody else. And somehow he still utters, “See someone else. Right?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even look at him, scoffs at his lap, “Like I care, do whatever you want.”

“Really,” Soobin says with a ginormous gulp. If it wasn’t clear to him earlier, now there’s nothing in between them. Soobin sees Yeonjun for all he is. He never meant anything to Yeonjun and it’s always been crystal clear.

Yeonjun finally gets up, circling the couch and stands before Soobin. Everything around them is drowned out, a thousand times more than moments ago. It’s just static noise and the dimness from the television. Yeonjun’s pointed eyebrow looks fierce as his nostrils flair with irritation. Soobin’s hands are clammy and he just wants to escape this darkness in exchange for an intimate crying session in his car.

“Yeah, go out all you want, you’ll come back to me. And when you do, I’ll make sure you never forget why it's me. Always me in the very end.”

Soobin takes a step back when Yeonjun advances a step. His hand invades the space in between Soobin’s nape and shoulder, palm resting firmly on his collarbone as the fingers pry into his back. “Go then.”

Soobin is frozen in place. Despite Yeonjun’s demands, he can’t utter a single action. Yeonjun always had this way about being unclear. He was never great at expressing himself, but it was the many reasons Soobin easily fell for him. It felt as if Yeonjun was a constant challenge that Soobin was working so hard to solve. Little by little, Soobin revealed Yeonjun’s interests, struggles, passions and stories. Soobin lived for unraveling Yeonjun this way. Sometimes it’s too much, but that’s what makes loving Yeonjun so, so worth it. What does he mean right now? Soobin still wants to find out. He is afraid he will always hurt himself by discovering parts of Yeonjun that he doesn’t need to know.

“So you want me to go?” Soobin breaths out quietly.

Yeonjun shrugs. “If you’re going to find someone that’s gone spend time with you, fine, goodluck. I doubt you’ll find anyone half as interesting as me. Probably wouldn’t fill you up the way I do.”

“Yeonjun—“

“He won’t know your body the way I do. Won’t touch you the way you need. Won’t know how you like it, how you deeply need it, baby. Not long until you come running back to me afterwards.”

“And if I don’t?”

Yeonjun tilts his head, eyes filled with concern despite the sick, mocking grin.

“What if this time…I don’t come back?”

“Then I was wrong. You aren’t meant to be mine.”

It’s different. He says it with sorrow. All the arrogance vanished, leaving Soobin to stare at a man with the same sullen eyes, minus his wicked smirk.

Soobin shoves Yeonjun’s hand off his body, stomping away because he doesn’t want to be anywhere near Yeonjun—one who keeps giving Soobin mixed signals. “Yeonjun for once, can you please, please tell me what you are feeling?”

“How do I make you stay, Soobin? I’m not sure.”

“Tonight? Just hold me…talk to me. I just want—“

“No. Forever. Always. What do I have to do to keep you?” Yeonjun is fixated on the ground, as if the carpet is more amusing than having an entire conversation with Soobin.

“I love you, Yeonjun but you’re always pulling back.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s started replying slower, canceling our dates, talking to other people. It’s best I keep my distance too, right? To see what I mean to you. I need to understand what I am to you.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do!” Soobin snaps, raising an accusatory hand, finger digging into Yeonjun’s chest. “I’ve been pulling away to see if you’d come after me. But you’re going off telling me to just fuck somebody else until I realize they aren’t you? What the fuck is that?”

Yeonjun laces his fingers around Soobin’s and gently brings it down. Soobin doesn’t try to pry away but he doesn’t link their fingers together either.

“Soobin…can you say that again?”

“What? Say what again, you’re—ugh!”

“Soobin, you love me?”

Soobin stares in complete confusion. “Yes. Yeah, I’m making a fool out of myself, aha. Yeah, I love you so much. But I suppose you want me to say that to a stranger’s face then expect me to come back and come on yours.”

“No, no…” Yeonjun near-cries. “Soobin, I seriously love you. I mean, I love you, too. I love you back! I’ve been dying here trying to figure out why or how we’ve grown apart.”

Soobin’s stomach erupts with this whirlwind of happiness, but he can’t help but remain frustrated at their stubbornness. “I shouldn’t play games with you. I see that. But you shouldn’t voluntarily pull away either.”

“Says the one who also tried to pull away as a test.”

“Says the one who told me to fuck someone else, even though they loved me, as a response to my test.”

Yeonjun looks cute again. Eyebrows furrowed and lips pouty in confusion. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“You don’t either. I am always trying to decode you. I keep spending many of my days just trying to understand you. It’s infuriating. But somehow, it makes me love you so, so much.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Forgive me?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I confessed first. I really wouldn’t have come back, Yeonjun,” Soobin expresses deeply.

Yeonjun releases a heavy sigh before planting a tender kiss on Soobin's cheek. “Mine?”

“Of course, idiot. Now…will you do something to really make me stay?”

“Strip, then bend over the couch armrest,” Yeonjun says with a spank to Soobin’s ass. “Better be ready by the time I come back with some lube and a condom.”

“Make up sex, yay!”

“How about we pretend it’s still angry sex?”

Soobin perks up at, beyond eager to undress. “Yes!”

#<5k #yeonbin #txt #ekzxo #287aus #angt #fics #just under an hour phew!!!

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