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feelbokkie · 1 day

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Sorry, I Love You | Chapter 11

pairing: Jeongin x fem reader

genre/warnings: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, friends to lovers, unrequited love, will they, won’t they dynamic, abusive relationship, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, emotional/psychological abuse

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: Swearing, Soobin mention, mention of food, drinking/alcohol (drink responsibly)

summary: Jeongin is in love with his best friend and he has been ever since he met her back in high school. He’s not sure how Y/n feels about him and in order to persevere their friendship, it’s a secret he keeps to himself. But when Y/n starts showing interest in one of their new neighbors, Jeongin starts to worry about the future of their relationship.

taglist: CLOSED

word count: 4,836

screenshot count: 19

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"Uh-huh...Seung--Seungmin-" You wedge your phone between your face and shoulder as you run around your apartment getting your things ready.

"--I just think editing-wise, we can do a whole thing with color filters for mood--" Seungmin continues on the other end of the call.

"Seungmin, that's a good idea but--"

Knock knock

"Should we do that artificially with a filter in post or should we try to mess with the lighting? Lighting might look more natural but harder to produce since a lot of the film is outdoors--"

You drop your bag on your couch and roll your eyes before heading over to your front door, praying that Seungmin isn't on the other side. You love him, you really do, but he's been pestering you nonstop since the start of winter break about the film. You didn't even mean to answer his call. You were so busy getting ready to leave that you instinctively answered the phone without checking.

"That's a really good point and question, but Seungmin I have to--"

You pull open the door to find Jeongin standing on the other side. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he's even there. You thought he went home to Busan after his last final for the semester. But here he is, standing in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his thick, black puffer jacket. A dark blue beanie sits on his head, pressing his bangs to his forehead. The bottoms of his blue jeans are soaked from walking through the snow. Or rather the slush on the floor that gives the false illusion of snow. You made the mistake of jumping into what you thought was a snow pile the other day and instead slipped into an unsuspecting ice puddle.

"Y/n? Are you listening to me? I'm trying to bounce ideas off of you and you're not throwing anything back." You can almost picture the pout sitting on Seungmin's face right now.

"Am I allowed to talk now?" You ask as you wave for Jeongin to come in.

"Who is that?" Jeongin asks, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes.

"Seungmin," You whisper back, holding the phone away from your face so he couldn't hear you. You can only imagine the rant Seungmin will go on if he thought you were ignoring him to talk to someone else.

Jeongin wastes no time yanking your phone out of your hand and putting it to his ear. "Hey, Seungmin, it's winter break. Go drink some hot chocolate and chill the hell out."

"But--" Jeongin ends the call before Seungmin can continue and hands you back your phone.

You stare at your phone for a second, waiting for Seungmin to call back before tossing it on the couch with your stuff. You take Jeongin by the hand and drag him over to the heater.

“Here, before you get hypothermia.” You mutter as you pull him to sit down.

“I’m not going to get hypothermia from the ends of my pants being wet, Y/n.” He laughs. Still, he sits on the ground to humor you.

You pull a blanket from your couch, the one that Lia made you for Christmas last year after complaining about how cold the winter is, and toss it around his shoulders. “Oh? Are you an expert on hypothermia?”

“It’s called common sense, idiot.” He smirks, lightly flicking your forehead.

“If you had any common sense, you would have rolled up your pant legs a bit to avoid this.” You crawl over to your couch and grab your phone to check the time, “I thought you went home like everyone else.”

“I decided to hang back and enjoy the quiet at the apartment. My parents don’t care as long as I’m back in time for midnight mass. Plus my brothers are annoying so staying here is a bonus.”

You swear under your breath when you realize how little time you have to get to the airport You toss your phone into your bag and triple-check that you have everything you need. "Not to be rude or anything, but you couldn't have come at a worse time, Innie."

"You have to go pick up your family from the airport, right?" You glance over at Jeongin as you slip your bag over your head. He's staring at you upside down, his head thrown backward. His round-rimmed black, lensless glasses slowly fall off his face.

"Yeah, and their flight is somehow early so I need to leave like, yesterday."

“Let’s go,” Jeongin slowly stands up and starts walking towards the front door.

“What?”

“Did you think I came here to spend time with you?” He says flatly.

The twitch in the corner of his mouth threatening to break into a smile gives him away. It's barely noticeable, but you know it's there. You've been friends with him long enough to be able to read him like a book. If you wait a little longer, he'll start to smile and then turn his head quickly so you don't see. His ears will turn red and he'll cover his mouth like he was trying to wipe it.

"You have nothing better to do than to drive me to pick up my family from the airport during break?" You question as you grab your apartment keys and meet him by the door.

"Didn't you know?" Jeongin leans down, placing his head on your shoulder, "I was placed on this earth to be your chauffeur. I'm fulfilling my one true purpose."

You slightly move to meet his eyes, careful to still keep your distance. You can feel the heat from his breath on your cheek. He looks at you with puppy dog eyes so soft and kind, they put a begging Kim Seungmin to shame.

"You're so fucking weird." You laugh, gently pushing him off your shoulder. His face feels warm against the palm of your hand. "This is why we need to get you a girlfriend. Someone to make you normal."

Jeongin opens the door and softly pushes you outside. You tighten the scarf around your neck as the cool air nips at your nose. "I'm normal enough around you."

"That is such a lie," You laugh again as he walks out of your apartment. You double-check that the door is locked and follow Jeongin to his car.

***

**Bold = English; Regular font = Korean**

You push in the door to your apartment and walk in first, holding the door open for your parents, brother, and Jeongin. It feels weird having your family in your apartment for the first time. In the four years you've lived in Korea, they've never been over once. Neither of your parents could take off time when you first moved and your brother was too busy moving back to his campus to help. They've seen your apartment in video calls and pictures, but having them standing in your tiny apartment is strange. For the longest time, it felt like you had two lives, one in South Korea and one back home. And now, both of those worlds are colliding. Even if it's only for a couple of weeks.

"Y/n, where do you want me to put these?" Jeongin asks, holding some of your mother's luggage.

"Just put it in my room, In. Thank you," You neatly organize everyone's shoes by the door, watching your family from the corner of your eyes. They took off their shoes when they came in, but their courtesy ends there as they now wander around the small apartment, opening doors and cabinets.

"You'd think with how much I'm paying for the place, it would be a bit bigger." Your father comments from the kitchen.

"It felt small at first, but it's just me so it's fine." You reassure him as you set your brother's things next to the couch. "You and mom are going to be in my room, by the way."

"Oh honey, you didn't have to give up your bed for us." Your mother coos, coming up behind you.

You know in the deepest crevice in your heart that, that's a lie. That if you didn't give your parents your room and instead gave them the pull-out couch that your brother is going to sleep on, she would fuss about it the entire time. Maybe even the rest of your life. Not in an obvious way, no that would be too kind. She'd make little comments about how her back hurts or how she could hardly get any sleep because she could hear the neighbors walking in the hallway. Or that the kitchen faucet kept her up all night. You love your mother, but sometimes she knows how to push all your buttons in the worst way possible.

"Y/n," Jeongin walks out of your room and makes his way over to you. "I'm going to head home now. Call me if you need anything."

"By home, you better mean Busan." You warn as you walk him to the door.

"What fun would that be? Plus, I've never experienced Seoul during Christmas." He grins at you as he pulls his shoes back on.

"And you're not going to this year. You said you're going back for midnight mass." You remind him.

"I can come back on Christmas day. I told you that we do everything on Christmas Eve since Christmas Day is Jesus' birthday. Something about greed and keeping it holy. I'm not going to miss out on anything," He stands up and readjusts his clothes.

"Yang Jeongin--"

"Oh, Y/n, is your friend leaving? Tell...what's his name again?" Your mother asks, coming up next to you.

"My name is Bob, ma'am." Jeongin stands up, extending his hand out to your mother.

"Be so fucking serious--" You glare at Jeongin before turning to your mother. "His name is Jeongin, mom."

"Jeongin, right. Tell Jeongin to stay for lunch at least. As a thank you for picking us up." Your mother places her hand on your shoulder, a large smile plastered on her face.

"Oh, it is okay. Enjoy family time." Jeongin reassures her.

"We insist. It's the least we can do. Think of it as a thank you for also taking care of my daughter."

"What are you doing?" You whisper.

"If it is okay with Y/n?"

"I'm being polite," Your mother whispers through a smile.

"You know how to do that--ow!" You rub your arm where your arm pinched you and pout at her.

"I didn't get to meet your other boyfriend, I'm going to meet this one." She finally admits.

"He's not my boyfriend. He's just my friend." You nearly shout.

"He knows his way around your apartment." She hums, not breaking eye contact with Jeongin.

"That's because he's my best friend, he spends a lot of time here. Hell, he practically lives here."

"He does what?" Your father asks, coming back into the living room.

"Kill me," You mutter under your breath, tossing your head back.

"If you insist, I'll stay for lunch. If that's okay with Y/n." Jeongin smiles at your mom, not even looking at you. He's good with moms, you'll give him that. You've witnessed him win over every single one of your friends' moms that you've met. It's impossible not to like him, but in this instance, you wish it was.

"What are you doing?" Your head snaps back up, raising an accusing eyebrow at Jeongin.

"She invited me for lunch." Jeongin tilted his head innocently.

"She's clearly jetlagged, don't listen to her." You groan.

"You're overreacting, it's just lunch." He laughs politely.

"And the twelve disciples thought the last supper was just dinner."

"That's blasphemous,"

"You're so right. Why don't you go home before I drag you to hell with me? Better yet, go all the way to Busan."

"Lover's quarrel?" Your brother pops up out of who knows where and drops down on the couch behind you.

Five minutes. It takes your family five minutes in your apartment, a grand total of twenty-five minutes in South Korea in general, for your family to completely drive you up the wall. It all floods back, why you left in the first place. You could have attended film school back home, but you decided to move as far as you could and somewhere they wouldn't have any interest in visiting. You wouldn't have to deal with them much outside of weekly phone calls. Your family could be worse, but the constant meddling in your life is enough to drive you insane.

Annoyed, you grab Jeongin's hand and drag him off to the kitchen. His fingers are stiff in your hand, almost like he's unsure if he should wrap his fingers around your hand. "C'mon, Bob, let's go make lunch."

"I'm...I'm not allowed in the kitchen," He stammers.

"Don't worry, I'm not an idiot. You're not going to cook anything." You let go of his hand as soon as you are far enough in the kitchen. You finally turn around to face him. His ears are as red as the shirt poking out from under his jacket. "I'm just saving you from my family interrogating you."

"I wouldn't mind," He coughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You say that now," You roll your eyes as you grab the apron next to him. You grab one of your spare aprons and hand it to him. "But trust me, after like 2 minutes along with them, you'd be begging me to save you."

"It can't be that bad."

"Speaking of bad," You toss the apron on and tie the string in the back, looking him in the eyes again, "When did you get so good at English?"

"I've been practicing," He follows suit and puts his apron on.

"For?" You walk past him and begin getting ingredients from your fridge.

"...My...resume." He mutters.

"What kind of reasoning is that? You aren't even that prepared for class."

"His name is Bob?" You hear your brother asking your parents.

You let out a deep sigh as you set everything on the counter, "Idiots, both of you."

***

"Mom and dad are asleep, let's go out." Your brother says, walking back into the kitchen where you and Jeongin are talking.

Somehow, lunch turned into dinner which turned into the five you you playing card games until your parents decided to call it for the night. You're exhausted too, although, you're not sure if it's from all the translating you've been doing or just the overall energy you've been exerting for the day.

"And do what, exactly?" You question, dealing out the cards that Jeongin just shuffled.

"Isn't there a place around here that's popular for clubs and stuff?" Your brother sits down in the seat next to you. He rests his head in the palm of his hand and stares at the both of you.

"Are you talking about Hongdae?" Jeongin asks, picking up his deck.

"Yeah, yeah, Häagen-Dazs!" Your brother says happily.

"There is no way in hell you heard him and thought he said Häagen-Dazs--How are we related?" You fold your arms on the table and drop your head into them, resisting the urge to just slam your head into the table at your brother's stupidity. "Anyways, you're too old for Hongdae."

"I'm 25?" Your brother furrows your eyebrows at you.

"Exactly, you're basically geriatric here. They're not letting you in." You explain, lifting your head.

"Plus you're a foreigner. A male one at that." Jeongin adds.

"But...but you guys are young enough right? You can get me in. Plus if Y/n dresses how she did in high school, the bouncers will be too distracted and let us in."

"You're just going to pimp out your baby sister like that?"

"What else are you good for?"

"Literally anything else," You slap his arm and roll your eyes. "Besides, I'm not sneaking you into a club so you can whore around and cheat on your girlfriend. You know, the one you've been dating for 10 years and still haven't proposed to."

Your brother hangs his head low and picks up his cards. "She left me,"

"You should have proposed," You joke, still looking at your cards.

"Don't kick me when I'm down," He groans, dropping his head to the table.

"Down bad, maybe,"

"I'm down bad? What about the time you--"

"Finish that sentence and mom and dad are going to spend Christmas fishing your body out of the Han River." You threaten.

"'Whoring around?' 'Down bad?'" Jeongin whispers to you.

"Channie after two bottles of soju and beer," You explain simply.

"Ah, a slut. Got it." He gives a firm, understanding nod and goes back to looking at his cards. "You know, we could sneak him in. He looks a little sad about his girlfriend leaving him."

"He's just being dramatic. He'll be fine," You wave him off.

You know Jeongin is right. You could just sneak him in. It might be harder with just the three of you, but you've done it before with your friend group. Back before most of you were old enough to get into clubs, you figured out how to sneak your entire friend group in. Did it set the feminist movement back a few decades? Sure, but it was worth it to spend a few hours partying with your friends.

Your eyes can't help but wander over to your brother. You chew on the corner of your bottom lip as you think about it. Sure, he's a pain in the ass, but he's still your older brother. He's taken you to places he normally wouldn't be caught dead to cheer you up growing up. Watch movies that he claims he hates and let you paint his nails and practice makeup on him more times than you can count. He did it while huffing and puffing about how much he disliked it, but he still did it.

"Shit," You mutter under your breath, "Okay, give me twenty minutes."

~~~

The hard beat of whatever music is being played too loudly over the speakers booms through your body. You can barely see two feet in front of you, with how poorly lit the club is. It's hot, which was a nice contrast from the cold outside when you first walked in, but it's become increasingly uncomfortable, nearly unbearable, in a short amount of time. The Irish coffee he had ordered for you when you first came in was a good idea in theory, something that would keep you awake and still let you share a drink with your brother. But now it's too hot to drink coffee with whisky in it. You had to steal a few ice cubes from Jeongin's water to cool it down enough so you drink it without feeling hot yourself.

"He's having fun," Jeongin points to your brother in the mass of sweaty bodies dancing in front of you. He has his tongue down the throat of some girl whose name you're certain he can't pronounce.

"I'm going to be sick," You groan, leaning further into the seat of the booth you're in. The red plastic leather peels off your skin, nearly glued to you from how long you've sat there. You're glad he's having fun, you just wish he wouldn't do it in your line of sight.

Jeongin laughs and pats your hand, trying to reassure you. His head softly bounces in tune to the music being played. You take a sip of your drink before leaning back again, the bitterness from both the coffee and the whisky hit your tongue in a way that makes you pull a slight face. The whisky burns your throat as it goes down. You feel all warm and fuzzy like you're being hugged from the inside. Except, it's one of those uncomfortable hugs that go on too long and make you feel too hot. There's not much you could do, you already took off your jacket after a few minutes of being in the club.

"Hey," A guy who looks to be around your age, maybe a little older, says, sliding into the booth next to you. "you look bored, do you want to come home with me to eat ramen?"

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before turning your head in his direction. You're entirely too tired, hot, and tipsy to deal with any of his bullshit. "Fuck off,"

"What did you say?" His tone is sharp. You're not sure if he's taken aback by the fact that you can speak Korean or how disrespectful you're being towards him, but you can feel the change of energy radiating off of him.

You feel an unexpected weight on your shoulders. Your eyes flick down and see Jeongin's hand hanging off your shoulder, carefully making sure not to touch you inappropriately. He leans in close, pulling you away from the guy and staring at him in the eyes. "She said 'fuck off.' Now go,"

The man looks between the two of you before letting out an exaggerated scoff and getting up from the table. The two of you watch as he walks over to another table, this one filled with a few girls who are definitely a little too drunk.

"Thanks," You say simply, resting your head back. Jeongin doesn't remove his arm, allowing you to use him as a cushion. You think for a moment, something about this situation is familiar. Not an exact match, but a similar one. You can't help but let out a low chuckle when you realize why.

"What's so funny," Jeongin's other hand brushes against your cheek, moving a stray piece of hair that you weren't aware of that was stuck to your cheek.

"Nothing," You slightly shake your head.

"You're laughing, how is that nothing?"

"It's sad, not funny" You sit up slightly, taking another sip of your drink. "The last time I was in Hongdae, that was pretty much happening a lot. Soobin and I were already bickering the entire night so we got into a fight about it. He was so mad that he made me walk home. Alone. It was pouring rain too,"

“Is that where that cold you had around my birthday came from?”

You let out a low hum and slightly nod your head. Your eyes flutter shut, the warmth in your body leaving slowly. Or maybe you're finally getting used to the heat. Your body feels like it's floating above the table you and Jeongin are sitting at. You know you have a higher alcohol tolerance, but maybe the exhaustion is making you more susceptible to the whiskey in your drink.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He whispers, his voice is soft and warm like honey against your ear.

“It was around 3 am. Didn’t wanna bother you,”

For a second, you're no longer floating but falling. No, not falling, you're being dragged down. Only for a second. You open your eyes slowly. The crowd in front of you is now slightly tilted like you're suddenly in the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It takes you a second to realize that your head is resting on Jeongin's chest.

Badum

You're not sure if your heart is beating in tune with the music or trying to keep up with the thumping coming from Jeongin's chest. The thumping in his chest doesn't match up with the music. It's louder and faster than the song that's currently playing. Your left-hand snakes up and presses on his chest, trying to settle his heartbeat, the fabric of his red cotton shirt soft and nearly silky underneath your fingertips.

“Idiot,” He murmurs. He pulls you in a little closer, making the beating of his heart louder in your ear. “You don’t bother me. Stop thinking you're a burden on others when you're not. I'll pick up anytime you call so don't do that again. Okay?”

“Hmm,” You hum in agreement, your eyes fluttering shut again. The beating in his chest slowly settles into a calm, soothing rhythm. You can't even hear the music anymore, only his heartbeat. The smell of his cologne, which somehow managed to last the entire day, finds its way into your nose giving you some sense of security and familiarity. Somehow, it smells more like home than your parents did when you hugged them. Your hand lightly grips the fabric of his shirt as you just lay there.

“C’mon, let’s go dance,” He says, tapping your forehead with his free hand.

“Dance?” You mumble, cracking one eye open.

“You’re falling asleep or passing out from being tipsy. Either way, it’s not going to look good for either one of us if I have to carry you out of here. So let’s dance,” He pulls you upright just as smoothly as he pulled you onto his chest.

You turn to look at him, both of your eyes open now. His face is red, almost like he's been drinking something other than water alongside you this entire time. You reach out and place your hand against his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, his skin hot against it yet again. “Careful, Yang Jeongin, someone might think you're in love with me.”

He slowly sucks in his lower lip, his eyes dance across your face. Like you're a book and he's trying to decipher your words. Or maybe he's trying to find his own and the answer lies in your eyes. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand off his face before sliding his hand up, taking your hand in his. He gently leans forward, next to your ear. His breath makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. "Would that be so bad?"

You pull away from him, leaving your hand in his, and narrow your eyes at him, trying to read him. You're not sure if he's serious or if the alcohol that's quickly leaving your system is making you misunderstand what's happening. Your eyes scan his face for answers and, unlike him, you're unsuccessful. His face is redder than it was before. It's almost like he's absorbing all the alcohol in your system through your hand.

“In—”

Thump

Someone bumps into your table, causing your drink to topple over and spill onto both of your laps.

"Shit," Jeongin mutters as he drops your hand and scrambles to grab whatever napkins are on the table. He gives some to you and helps you clean up the now ice-cold drink that's dripping down to your feet, his own pants being neglected.

"I'll be right back," He says quickly before leaving you at the table and disappearing in the direction of the bathrooms.

Before you can even process what happened, your brother slides into the booth next to you. "People here are weird. I was making out with that girl and all of a sudden she's talking to me about ramen."

You quickly shake your head and focus your attention on your brother. You pick up the now empty cup that used to hold your cocktail and go back to trying to clean your jeans. "You're going to be so upset you said 'no' later."

"Was ramen code for something?" He turns his full body to face you. You glance at him before going back to clean up your mess. There's a small red mark at the base of his neck and dark pink lipstick smeared across his mouth. You can only imagine how much trouble he was about to get himself into.

"I'll tell you later," You wad up the dirty napkins and put them in your cup.

Your brother looks around, realizing that something is missing, "Where's your boyfriend?"

You freeze at the word boyfriend. You're used to people assuming that you're dating Jeongin, but somehow, this time feels different. Before, it always sounded accusatory. Like the two of you couldn't be just friends. That you were using the term "friends" as a veil to hide illicit-esque behavior. But now...

"Would that be so bad?"

Your brain replays that phrase in your head over. Surely, he was taking advantage of your intoxicated state to tease you like he usually does. That, had you not been interrupted by cold whiskey and coffee pouring into your lap, he would have let out a loud laugh and left his mouth hang so widely open that you wouldn't be able to see past the dark-lined half-moons where his eyes should be as you stammered out a response. Something that he would tease you about for the rest of your lives.

"He's not my boyfriend, dumbass. We're just friends." You sigh, thumping your brother on the back of his head.

Your brother rolls his eyes as he rubs the back of his head, a smile that would make the Cheshire cat envious spreads across his face. "Look, I'm saying this as both your older brother and as a guy, you may be 'just friends' with him, but he’s definitely not 'just friends' with you,”

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @marked-unknown @veedoesntknaur @nuronhe

*the rest of the taglist is in the comments*

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kangaracha · 2 days

Text

head above water | chapter 1

also written by @keepswingin

---

pairing chan x reader, jeongin x reader

genre love triangle, coming of age, angst, sickfic, friends with benefits, college au

summary Homework, a small business, overbearing parents, a boyfriend that isn't a boyfriend. And then there's whatever is going on with her best friend, who seems to want something...more than a friendship, if he ever gets around to asking her about it- life is complicated, and far too busy for Y/N to be bothered with being stressed, or sick, or whatever it is that's making it hard to eat and sleep and focus on her work-

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

masterlist | next

---

You're slumped across Chan's lap when Minho finally comes through the door, one arm full of groceries, the other holding his duffel bag from dance practice. He's not at all surprised to see you as he kicks the door shut with a foot, though he does roll his eyes and make a big show of tossing off his shoes before sauntering over to the kitchen and slinging his bags on the closest empty counter.

"Of course all of you heathens are here," he grouses as he starts pulling things out of one of the shopping bags and stacking the various items beside it. "Do any of you ever leave the house?"

"Depends on the weather," Changbin chimes from beside you, flipping lazily through television channels.

"The weather's fine," Minho mutters, making a face as he shoves things over to make more room for what he's currently unloading. You watch in amusement as the current victim seems to be Chan's laptop and discarded charger. "My wallet isn't, on the other hand." He catches your eye as he turns, tugging the fridge open. "What are you doing here?" he asks, as if you're not welcome, even though you've slept over more often than you should and the key to his apartment sits on your keychain like an unattainable trophy.

A trophy you deserved, anyway - you're more than sure your key is Changbin's replacement key. He had lost it sometime ago, and Minho hadn't bothered to make him a new one. You watch as Minho tosses something from the open fridge with Changbin's writing on the top of it.

"Sorry," you say, the word clumsily as it tumbles from your mouth. You're not usually like this, but you feel embarrassed for some reason, being so close to Chan, leaning on him like he's nothing more than a pillow. Minho wouldn't judge, not ever, but there is something in his gaze that makes you doubt, your stomach twisting. "I wasn't feeling good after class, and my apartment is farther than yours."

Minho hums at your answer, seemingly satisfied. The tightness in your chest doesn't loosen.

You wish it would, after a day like today.

Instead, you exhale, and move to sit up, stretching your arms above your head. You tilt your head to either side to crack your neck, and feel Chan shift in return, cold fingers attempting to slip around your wrist. You pull away before he can keep you there, and avoid the glance of concern he gives you as you stand up.

His care is too much, sometimes. He keeps you grounded in ways you've never been able to understand and yet sometimes you worry that he'll look at you too closely and unravel every secret you've never told. It's easy to nearly fall asleep pressed against him. It's always been hard to escape his gaze.

You make your way over to the kitchen just as Minho throws something else away. You barely catch the hastily scribbled label on that one, but you're pretty sure it was Chan's handwriting.

"Do you need help?"

Minho doesn't give a direct answer, moving something over inside the fridge to make room, but he doesn't have to. He was easy to read once you knew him.

You start handing him things one at a time - a package of fresh chicken, sliced cheese and shredded ham for Han's sandwiches. You can't help but glance over your shoulder at the thought of the third body in the room; Han's slumped in the armchair on the other side of the television, eyes closed and forehead hidden behind the hood of his sweatshirt, though you can't tell if he's asleep or not. He might've been snoring earlier, but you had nearly fallen asleep yourself, lost in thought about far too many things and conformable against Chan -

"Are you hungry?"

Minho sounds tired. You shrug, not wanting him to go out of his way. Your stomach's been feeling weird all day anyway, so you aren't sure if you want to test your luck just yet. "I don't know, I've been feeling off all day."

"Are you sick?" he asks, finally closing the fridge with a loud thump.

"Unnecessary!" Chan calls loudly as he tries to reach over and grab the remote from Changbin. "Go back!"

Thankfully, you're saved from answering by Chan's stunned tone as Minho and you turn towards the living room to see what's going on.

"Get your own TV," Changin grumbles in return, opting to skip the overly dramatic movie he lands on next. "I told you I'm not watching that dumb show."

"It's not even your TV," Minho interjects sourly. "Stop fighting over my stuff."

"I helped pay for half of it!" Changbin argues easily, turning his head to shoot Minho a scathing look. "It was my idea to upgrade anyway, not yours!"

You grimace at the increase in noise, your head beginning to throb. Another headache, you realize with a soft sigh. God, what was with you today?

"Someone wake up Hannie," Minho interrupts, reaching for a pot. "I need help with dinner."

And that, for some reason, is what stops Chan and Changbin's bickering. "It's only four," Changbin immediately complains, slumping against the back of the couch and finally allowing Chan access to the remote. "I had a late lunch, what, are you trying to make sure I starve later?"

"I don't care," Minho throws back as he flicks on a burner. "I'm hungry now."

You decide to walk back into the living room, gently giving Han a squeeze to his knee as you pass, startling him awake. He blinks owlishly in your direction as you collapse back on the cushion in between Chan and Changbin, your head falling on Chan's shoulder.

Minho calls Han to the kitchen once he sees that he's awake, and with a gentle tone he would never use with anyone else. You smile when you notice, tucking closer to Chan.

Han is sluggish in getting to his feet and making his way over, but then you watch as he trudges to Minho's side and reaches for a knife, only for the older to slap his hand away and push him over to the boiling pot instead.

Changbin resorts to his phone on your left, scrolling endlessly on what you hope isn't Twitter, shooting bitter glances at the television every now and again while you sit pressed against someone who you trust more than life as he chuckles softly at a cheesy joke on the television.

It's so easy to want to fall back into the fun parts of a relationship, but it's the hard parts that keep you from giving in. Things with Chan were always somewhere in the middle, and it's that thought that keeps you from being the one to start things back up again, especially with college, and juggling what remains of your business on top of dealing with your mother's incessance that you're taking too long with the degree you never should have gotten in the first place -

"Hey," Chan whispers, leaning close to your ear. "You okay?"

His arm is slung around your shoulders, fingers brushing the exposed skin of your arm. You didn't even notice him move, but you're grateful for his presence all the same. It's only easy for you to break his mannerisms down the way that you do because you've known him since high school, and the two of you have been on and off since his first year of college.

Chan wasn't much older than you, but the truth was that you never intended to go to college, until your parents insisted, even though you've been making a good amount of money through art commissions in a supportive community. But, of course, to them that didn't mean much, so here you were, battling through your last year of college for an art degree just to spite them some more.

"I'm okay," you whisper back, reaching over and tugging playfully at his arm. "Thanks for being the world's greatest pillow." His chest rumbles with a soft chuckle. Your stomach flips in that way that makes it hard to tell what exactly you feel.

"I'm just glad you're feeling better," he replies easily, tugging you closer. "I'm sorry that you felt bad at all, I know all it does is make the day feel even longer than it usually does."

"It wasn't all bad," you supply, idly watching the characters onscreen poke and prod at each other until one can't take anymore. "Jeongin helped me out during class, and Felix walked me over."

Chan hums and the both of you lapse into a comfortable silence. Not that you could even really call it silence with the force known as Minho and Han in the kitchen, but it's close enough. He's the one to break it a few minutes later, fingers drumming softly against your skin.

"Jeongin is..." he pauses, thinking. "The one in your math class, right?"

"No, that's Seungmin, the one Minho threatened to boil alive."

That makes him laugh, and Changbin grumble from the noise, shifting away. "Oh right, I remember that." He stifles another bout of laughter, and you can't help but turn and look at him, your own lips tugging into a smile at the sight. He glances at you and can't contain himself, and then you both collapse into laughter that rings through the living room.

"Jeongin is the one she spends the most time with," Changbin interrupts from behind his phone, eyeing Chan carefully. "He's in nearly all her classes."

"Oh right, right," Chan says as soon as the two of you are able to contain your laughter, nodding his head as you settle back against him again. "He was sweet."

"Felix was the sweetheart," Changbin corrects, finally putting his phone down. "Hyunjin was artsy," he continues, unbidden as he sits up, "and Jeongin was...something else."

"Something else?" you question, turning to Changbin. "What does that mean?"

Changbin looks back at you like he knows something you don't, which doesn't make any sense, considering he was usually the last to know about a lot of things. Your key to Minho's apartment, for example. How could it be something he lost when you knew for a fact that it was Chan who had stolen it and snuck it on your keychain. But the way he looks at you now isn't something you're used to, and as the seconds tick by, you're not quite sure if you want to know what exactly he's talking about or not.

"I thought the day went well," you pivot, turning back to Chan. "None of you ended up hating each other, and that's all I needed to know."

"Jeongin was nice," Chan tacks on, though his eyes flit between you and the television like he's unsure where exactly he should look. You ignore him in favor of glaring at Changbin, just because you can. Changbin withers under your gaze and takes it as his cue to stand up and barrel into the kitchen, inserting himself between Han and the knife he's somehow gotten ahold of in the meantime.

"Weirdo," you mumble after he's out of earshot.

Chan hums softly in agreement.

Your headache starts to fade after a while, but the out of place feeling in your chest lingers, and though whatever Minho's cooking smells amazing, your stomach just cannot seem to handle the smell. You exhale and sit up, deciding to leave before you become anymore of a burden, not that Minho ever has time to say such a thing when moving out of college landed him with three party crashers at all times to distract him from your presence.

Chan, Changbin and Han had graduated together, eager to get their start in music producing or sound engineering, but the future never worked out how you thought it would, and now Changbin was working nights as bouncer at a club, Chan was pinballing between odd jobs, and Han was torn between going back to college for a 'better degree' or moving back in with his parents.

You had talked him out of the latter, thankfully, but you knew it was hard for him, with the anxiety that curled so easily around his insides the same as your own did.

It was luck that Minho had just so happened to graduate with a degree that allowed him to get paid enough to live on, and that he also just so happened to be Han's roommate during college. Chan and Changbin had followed Minho around like ducklings as soon as Han introduced them, and the rest was history. Or couch surfing. Or a friendship that would last a lifetime.

"I should get going," you tell Chan as you stand, casting a glance towards the kitchen. You left your things by the door so you really have no reason to go that way, but you figure that the least you could do was thank Minho for not kicking you out or threatening to boil you alongside the chicken.

"Will you be okay getting home?" Chan asks, muting the television. "I can walk you."

"I'll be fine," you drone with a poorly hidden smile, heading over to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go, Minho," you say, Changbin scooting himself to the other side of the kitchen island to avoid your path. "Thank you for having me."

Minho scoffs, shaking his head but not bothering to turn towards you as he swats Han away again. "You're always welcome here," he replies, tone dry. "Stop acting like I won't let you in."

"Maybe one of these times you won't," you chime, making your way over to the door and slipping on your shoes. "For all I know, I could be using up all my free visits."

"Aish," he tsks, and you catch his gaze over the curve in the wall, the playful tug of the corner of his lips. "Get out then," he tells you, and you can't help but laugh as you sling your bag over your shoulder and open the door.

taglist

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @rylea08 @jenniferlr @enzos-shit @sxnset-angel @amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @thatonedemigodfromseoul

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