unearthed (unwavering)

by anemoiadawn

Summary:

“So you’re just doing this for the money? You’re not in love with my pretty face?” Seungmin batted his eyelashes.

Chan’s eyes didn’t leave the road, unwavering in their heavy gaze. Everything about Chan seemed to be unwavering. He never seemed to budge.

“It pays well. And you’re low maintenance.”

The car stopped at a red light and Chan broke his concentration on the road; glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of his eye, scanning him up and down.

“You’re not my type anyway.”

By the time Seungmin finished reeling from the meanest thing anyone had ever said to him, Chan’s focus was back on the road.

aka seungmin learned how to deal with his new bodyguard, chan, and slowly grew more and more attached

Notes:

this is my baby. i've poured so much of myself into this and it means the world to me. please tell me what you think of it and feel free to reach out to me on twitter or in the comments here. thank you for choosing to read this! <3

Chapter 1: de selby (part 1)

Notes:

chapter warnings:: shitty parent(s), needles, injections, attempted kidnapping, assault, minor character death, firearm, blood

But, still, the mind, rejecting this new empty space

Fills it with something or someone

No closer could I be to God

Or why he would do what he's done

He was hot.

This had to be the worst part of the whole situation, Seungmin thought. The man who was going to follow him around for the foreseeable future was drop dead gorgeous. His hair was a rich, dark brown, styled in a way that showed just enough of his forehead for his eyebrows to be fully visible. They were furrowed, focused. The man’s deepset eyes were trained on Seungmin’s father behind his desk.

“You're to follow Seungmin everywhere. Understood?” Mr. Kim didn't bother to look up from his book. Seungmin couldn't remember the last time his father had looked him in the eye.

“Yes, sir.” Fuck . The man was Australian, too. Seungmin had always had a soft spot for accents. The mystery man’s wasn't too thick, not nearly as rough as Felix’s, but it still ignited something in Seungmin’s lower stomach. “I won’t let you down.”

His voice wasn’t high, necessarily, but it was soft— softer than any voice Seungmin had ever heard. Though he wasn’t a fan of this whole arrangement, Seungmin wasn’t too opposed to the idea of hearing this man’s voice more.

“If Seungmin proves to be too much work, don't bother to tough it out,” his father flipped a page of his book before continuing, “we can easily replace you.”

Seungmin’s father likely wished he could replace him, Seungmin thought to himself. Not a single call the last three years while he was abroad. Now he was doing everything in his power to never see Seungmin again.

“That won't be necessary,” the Aussie man cleared his throat, eyes staring deep into Seungmin’s. They were a warm brown, slightly downturned. Like a dog’s, in a way. They would likely be cute on anyone else. “I don't think he’ll put up much of a fight.” Oh . So he was an asshole, too.

Seungmin sighed, standing up to take his leave. He had heard enough. He didn't need to be in the room as his father was making up a plan to keep him pliant.

Before Seungmin could even place his hand on the door handle, he was yanked back. A pain shot through his arm from his wrist, where he looked down to see thin pale fingers wrapped around him, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 

“Don't.” The tone in the man’s voice was new (not like Seungmin had heard him speak much, anyways). Seungmin held his breath. His new bodyguard may be a couple inches shorter than him, but it didn’t help Seungmin to be any less terrified. “You don't leave my sight. Those are your father’s orders. Got it?” Seungmin blinked rapidly, trying his best not to stare at the man’s plush lips. Tried his best not to notice the light freckles dusting his cheeks. To not notice the small silver hoops in his earlobes.

“Yes. Got it.” Seungmin hissed as the grip on his wrist tightened.

“Yes, what?” The man raised his eyebrows. “Manners.” Seungmin’s knees almost buckled— from the pain in his wrist, or the man’s tone, he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, sir,” Seungmin hissed, yanking his wrist out of the man’s grip.

The man before Seungmin smiled. Fuck , his smile. He didn’t show teeth, but his lips pulled into that soft curve was brutal enough to watch. His eyes turned into crescent moons, wrinkles appearing at the edges of his eyes and deep smile lines digging into his cheeks.

Seungmin felt anger bubble up deep within him. He wouldn’t let himself grow fond of this man.

“Good. So you two seem to get along.” Mr. Kim clicked his tongue. “Leave my sight. Go show him to the guest room, Seungmin.” His father still hadn’t raised his head, or his gaze. Seungmin felt invisible.

He turned around and felt a heavy gaze on the nape of his neck. Now he wished he really was invisible. He could already see the pity in the bodyguard’s eyes. He didn’t want pity. He wanted his father dead. Or himself. Whichever was easier.

Seungmin showed him to the guest room— only two steps away from Seungmin’s. It was intentional. Seungmin’s room was always meant to be another guest room. There were plenty of real rooms meant to be bedrooms, but his parents had never wanted kids. He’d been shoved into the guest section of the estate, as far away from the master bedroom as possible. If he screamed, it wouldn’t even reach halfway. His parents didn’t care either way.

Seungmin dove into his computer, instantly queuing a solo ranked League match. If playing Teemo jungle and getting yelled at by every other person in the game didn’t provide enough of a distraction, nothing would.

At last, when all of the world is asleep

You take in the blackness of air

Chan.

That was his new bodyguard’s name. Chan wouldn't share his last name, or any other information about himself. It took a week alone of Seungmin’s pestering to get him to say his first name.

“Do you ever shut up?” Chan hissed, cranking the volume of the car radio to max. Seungmin threw a tissue from the console at Chan’s face, glaring at him. He’d been trying to make conversation for several days prior– any kind of conversation. Chan wasn’t giving him anything to work with.

Seungmin reached forward and twisted the volume dial back down. “You’re being paid to listen to me.” He crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “The least you can do is stop complaining.”

“I’m being paid to protect you,” Chan corrected, pushing the knob in, turning the radio off completely. “I can complain all I like. I’ll be paid the same handsome fee regardless.”

“So you’re just doing this for the money? You’re not in love with my pretty face?” Seungmin batted his eyelashes. Chan’s eyes didn’t leave the road, unwavering in their heavy gaze. Everything about Chan seemed to be unwavering. He never seemed to budge.

“It pays well. And you’re low maintenance.” The car stopped at a red light and Chan broke his concentration on the road; glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of his eye, scanning him up and down. “You’re not my type anyway.”

By the time Seungmin finished reeling from the meanest thing anyone had ever said to him, Chan’s focus was back on the road.

---

It took less than a month for Seungmin to lose his mind in his parents’ estate. Chan had only been his bodyguard for two weeks, and even so, Seungmin was already sick of him. Sick of his accent, sick of his face, sick of his hands, sick of his wardrobe that only consisted of black clothing, sick of it all. But Chan was way better than dealing with his parents. He’d live with fifty Chans if it meant his parents were gone from his life forever.

Seungmin settled on getting a house three hours away from his parents. He’d never have to see them again on his own accord. Never again.

Seungmin had plenty of funds on the card his father had given him— that was one upside to having loaded parents. He could spend $500,000 with a single wave of his hand and his father wouldn’t even notice. Chan had to move in too, despite Seungmin’s protests. He’d looked only for houses with two bedrooms, but he couldn’t find any place where the rooms were on the opposite sides of the house from each other. Yet again, his bedroom was two steps away from Chan’s.

Seungmin’s freshman year of college started the next week. He was a couple years behind his peers, starting college at 20, two years after he should have graduated high school. He needed his textbooks, and half of them weren’t available online, so he had to go in person— but he couldn’t leave the house without Chan. Couldn’t go anywhere without Chan, really. He didn’t even have privacy in his own bedroom.

“Alright, let’s go, then.” Chan leaned against Seungmin’s door frame, twirling his keys around his finger. Seungmin pretended like the gesture didn’t fuel the fire of hate for Chan he had burning in his chest even more.

“Fine,” Seungmin groaned, turning off his monitors and slipping on his shoes. “Do you even know where—” He froze a meter in front of Chan, his eyes flitting between Chan’s platform boots and the way he was suddenly towering over Seungmin. Chan smirked, licking his bottom lip.

“What?” Chan hummed. “Not used to being shorter than me?”

Seungmin coughed, stumbling back. Chan chuckled and turned to leave.

“You don’t have enough time to jerk off to me, so hurry up.” Chan tapped the doorframe above his head.

“Fuck you,” Seungmin hissed after Chan.

“In your dreams,” Chan sang over his shoulder.

Seungmin followed Chan out to the car with his ears burning brighter than the sun.

---

Seungmin’s classes sucked major ass. Base-level Composition, College Algebra, Intro to Sociology, American History (why American history was required, but World wasn't, was lost on him). If he could get far, far away, somewhere dumb classes weren’t required, he would. In a heartbeat.

It was only the first week, and he already had eight hours of homework over the weekend. Seungmin wanted to die. He hadn’t been in school for over three years— he’d studied those couple of months with Hyunjin’s cousin in Paris to get his GED, but that didn’t really count. He hadn’t been forced to sit in classes in so long. He hadn’t been forced to be in the same room with the same people for the same amount of time each week in several years. He hated it.

He queued up another solo game of League in his bedroom— procrastinating was what he did best. He wasn’t even a full minute into the match before his monitor went black. “What the fuck…” Seungmin tapped his monitor and heard someone clearing their throat through his headphones. He snapped his head to the left to find Chan holding a loose power cable: the wire that connected Seungmin’s computer to the wall socket. Seungmin saw red.

“You don’t get to play until you’ve finished your homework.” Chan wrapped the cord around his finger, just to let it unravel and curl it again.

“I hate you so fucking much.” Seungmin threw a pencil from his desk at him. Chan just caught it, an eyebrow raised.

“Do your work,” Chan repeated, setting the pencil down on the desk, gently. “And then you can pick dinner.” Seungmin clenched his jaw so hard he was shocked his teeth didn’t shatter.

“You’re my bodyguard; not my dad, not my guardian, not my caretaker, not my boss. Don’t fucking tell me what to do.” Seungmin stood up and yanked the cable out of Chan’s hand, bending down to plug it back in.

“Fine, be that way.” Chan chuckled. “If you don’t want to ever go outside again besides for class, keep acting up. I love staying in.”

“You are such a dick.” Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know that?”

Chan smiled. “I’ve been told I have a good one, sure,” Chan hummed, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, causing his cheek to bulge. Seungmin felt like he was going to explode.

“You’re impossible.” Seungmin sat back at his desk, pulling out his homework. “You know I’m going to get such a bad fucking penalty for going AFK, right? That was ranked.”

“The less you’re playing League, the more you’re focused on school. I see no issue.”

“Chan, I mean this sincerely, with every fiber of my being.” Seungmin stared up at Chan, making the most serious face he could muster. “As soon as humanly possible, please kill yourself.”

Chan just laughed.

---

“I’m so sorry, bro.” Felix nuzzled into Seungmin’s shoulder, hugging him tight. “He seems like such a cunt.” Seungmin laughed, and didn’t protest when Felix swung his leg over Seungmin’s lap.

“It’s alright,” Seungmin sighed out, resigned. “He doesn’t bother me too much.” Felix hummed, resting his chin on Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Still. That’s so fucking dumb. You were fine for the, what— nearly four years? That you were in Europe? Why does some bodyguard have to follow you around now that you’re back?”

Felix didn’t get it. He never really did, but Seungmin couldn’t blame him. He didn’t tell Felix about everything. He didn’t tell Felix about the four times he’d nearly been kidnapped— and the one time the men had succeeded. He’d waved the whole friend group off when they’d seen the scar across his left thigh a year later: “Fell down the stairs at home,” Seungmin had lied through his teeth. He’d gotten really good at lying to them. “You know how that one staircase is in the lobby.” They had all hummed in response, believing him without a single shred of doubt. Seungmin had no reason to lie to them.

“Yeah.” Seungmin breathed out through his nose, resting his cheek on Felix’s head. “It sucks.”

They sat in silence for another minute, Felix’s leg resting across Seungmin’s. His thigh laid atop Seungmin’s scar. It didn’t hurt, not really— it just… was an uncomfortable weight on an uncomfortable place. He wasn’t used to it.

“Did your dad, uhm…” Felix started, pressing his cheek deeper into Seungmin’s shoulder. “Did he say anything when you got back? About… Y’know…” Felix patted his own chest, then pointed to Seungmin’s.

“Not really,” Seungmin chewed the inside of his cheek, reaching down to pinch his shirt to hide the contours of his chest— something he hadn’t needed to do since the surgery. He didn’t talk to anyone about it, except Felix. He was beyond anxious about seeing everyone else after so long, to see their reactions at Seungmin’s new… everything .

“Not really in the way he usually wouldn’t talk about it?” Felix pushed deeper. “Or not really in a new way?”

Seungmin was happy he had someone to talk to, more than anything, but Felix of all people wouldn’t take his bullshitted answers. He wanted the truth.

“He hasn’t looked me in the eye since I returned.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Seungmin sat up, shrugging Felix off his shoulder. He didn’t want to talk about this. “It’s fine,” Seungmin lied, practiced and perfected. “I won’t see him unless I’m forced to. It’s fine. At least he doesn’t fuck up my name anymore.”

Felix hopped up off Seungmin’s bed with a bounce, throwing the duffel bag onto the mattress. “Still. I’m sorry. That sucks.” Seungmin held back a laugh as Felix unzipped the bag and Felix shot him a look. “What? Dissatisfied with the manner in which I’m smuggling you drugs?”

Seungmin laughed, unable to hold this one back. “No, thank you, I’m sorry. It’s just funny, that’s all.” Felix picked the bag up and pretended to walk away.

“It’s funny? Well, sorry I didn’t have any cute bag big enough for everything. You ask me for a lot, Minnie.”

“I’m sorry!” Seungmin reached out, his bottom lip jutting out. “I’m sorry. Please, Mr. Lee. Please, I need my drugs.”

Felix caved, because he could never really resist anyone asking him anything, to a fault.

“I could only get you a three month’s supply.” Felix flipped the bag over and let the individual boxes fall out, followed by a massive bag of needles, syringes, and alcohol wipes. Seungmin cringed— he did not like the injection part of the process. “They wouldn’t give me any more than that. You can only pretend you lost so much of your medication before they start to ask questions.”

“Thank you.” Seungmin stopped Felix’s hand as he started to sort everything out. “Seriously. It’s been killing me, not having it for the past month.” Felix’s smile fell, shifting their hands for their fingers to intertwine.

“I know. I know, Minnie,” Felix crawled back into bed next to Seungmin, wrapping his arms around Seungmin’s waist. “I can’t imagine. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you some quicker.”

Seungmin shook his head, burying his face in Felix’s neck. “No, I’m sorry I’m such a wuss. I just need to make an appointment and I can get it myself. It’s just…” He trailed off, his head swimming. He couldn’t go back to his pediatrician, he was nearly 21. But he’d rather die than get signed up with a new doctor. The idea of even calling a doctor’s office made his heart freeze in his chest.

“I understand.” The bass of Felix’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, Felix’s hand buried in Seungmin’s hair. “Believe me, I understand. I know it’s scary, and you’ve been gone for so long. It’s okay.” Felix pulled away, pressing his lips to Seungmin’s forehead. “I’ll get you everything you need for as long as you need it.”

“Do you need help?” Felix shook his bag, getting rid of the last few boxes hiding behind the seams. “I know you don’t like the injection part of it.” Seungmin pulled his thighs to his chest, debating.

He hadn’t done his injections in the same room as someone else in… never, now that he really thought about it. He didn’t like someone being in the room. The idea of someone’s eyes on him while he had a needle in his thigh made his skin crawl. “No,” Seungmin whispered, letting his forehead fall onto his knees. “I’d rather do it alone. Thank you, Lixie.”

“You’re so welcome, Minnie.” Felix zipped his bag up, tossing it over his shoulder. “I’ve got an… erm…” Felix’s cheeks blushed a sinful shade of pink. “ Appointment . To get to.”

Seungmin clicked his tongue. He knew what that meant. “Ah. Well. Have fun.” Seungmin masked his true feelings with disappointment about Felix’s ‘appointments’ with the truer feeling he had about it: jealousy. “Be safe, Lix.” Felix groaned, swinging his empty black bag towards Seungmin with no real malice behind it.

“I will. I promise. If they don’t use protection, I leave immediately.” Felix picked up his other bag— the smaller, pink one. Seungmin wasn’t curious about what was inside.

“Good.”

Seungmin had stopped telling Felix what to do a long time ago. If he told Felix not to do something, it just pushed Felix closer to doing it. Seungmin just made sure he had his phone on whenever Felix was with someone. If Jisung was busy, Seungmin would be the next person Felix’d call.

“Good luck with Chan.” Felix smoothed out the sheets where he’d been sitting. “Call me if you need backup in a fight with him.” Seungmin laughed. The only real damage Felix could do to anyone would be light scratches. He wasn’t a fighter.

“You’ll be the first one I call, don’t worry.” Seungmin swung his legs over the side of the bed and jumped up to hug Felix goodbye. They both melted into the hug, Seungmin burying his face in Felix’s neck.

Seungmin was so touch starved, it hurt. He would’ve happily died there in Felix’s arms. 

“Thank you, Felix,” Seungmin whispered under his breath. Any quieter, and he wouldn’t even have been able to hear himself.

“Thank you for coming home, Seungmin,” Felix responded earnestly into Seungmin’s shoulder. “We missed you.” Seungmin blinked back tears as Felix pulled away, sniffing violently. Felix held back a giggle.

“Missed you, too,” Seungmin huffed, rubbing his eyes. “Go, before I make you late for your seventh hookup of the day.” Felix scoffed, flicking Seungmin’s forehead.

“Cunt,” Felix hissed, then leaned forward to kiss Seungmin’s forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

Seungmin stared at the syringe in his hands and cursed everything. His parents, for conceiving him. God, if he was even real, for creating life. Biology, for making bodies different. Evolution, for actually forming their bodies in this manner. Society, for… everything else.

He did everything like he was used to. Took a shower, scrubbed the side of his left thigh hard enough to erase multiple layers of his skin, dried off, put on only a shirt and briefs, sat in his bed. Then took the syringe and both needles out of their plastic wraps, placed them on his nightstand, took out the vial, cleaned the top with an alcohol wipe, secured the pink needle onto the syringe, pulled in half a milliliter of air, stuck the needle into the vial, pushed the air in, pulled out a milliliter of thick liquid, threw the vial away in the box it came in, swapped the pink needle to the blue, laid his left leg out straight, pulled a tissue out just in case.

Seungmin sat frozen on his bed, sealed alcohol wipe in hand, syringe balanced on his knee, tissue tucked under his thigh. This was the worst part. It had been a month. He usually did his injections on Sundays, but Felix hadn’t gotten the vials until that day; Thursday. Seungmin would slowly inch towards Sundays again, but he couldn’t wait three more days after four weeks of torture.

He took a deep breath and ripped the packet open, rubbing the wipe in circles on the side of his thigh. He took a deep breath and slowly eased the seal off the needle, placing it beside his leg on the bed. He took a deep breath and pinched the cool skin of his thigh together, guiding the tip of the needle to the center of his raised skin. He took a deep breath and pushed the needle into his thigh.

It hurt. So fucking bad. The initial breaking of the skin hurt the worst, but the pressure as he pushed the needle in deeper was a close second. He held the syringe in place as soon as it was fully into his thigh. Right as he let go of his thigh to secure the syringe in both of his hands, his door was slowly pushed open.

“Felix, I’m kinda busy—” Seungmin hissed, holding the syringe still as he shot Felix a look.

Instead, he was met with Chan in his doorway, a coffee cup in hand. Chan’s eyes flitted between Seungmin’s pained face and the needle in his leg. The blood left Seungmin’s face in an instant.

“Seungmin…?” Chan’s face was unreadable, stepping forward as he set the cup on Seungmin’s desk. “Are you—”

“Fuck, get out, Chan,” Seungmin hissed, the pressure in his thigh spreading up to his hip. “Pl–Please,” he choked out.

“Sorry, sorry.” Chan hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Seungmin groaned, focusing his eyes back down on his thigh, slowly pushing the viscous liquid into the muscle of his leg.

It didn’t bleed, thankfully. The tissue still helped, to press against the injection site until Seungmin could cover it in a bandaid. He sighed, opening the box Felix had left behind: every single one was pink, My Melody, covered in bows and hearts.

Seungmin secured the flowery bandaid on his thigh and pulled on sweatpants, trying his best not to think about how Chan had seen him in just his underwear.

He was unsuccessful.

The likes of a darkness so deep

That God, at the start, couldn't bear

And sit unseen with only the inner upheld

Six weeks passed of Chan being his bodyguard before Seungmin realized he actually had a use. Mr. Kim dealt in shady business— that was the only way you could make that amount of money. There was no legal way to make nearly a million dollars every month.

Seungmin’s face and identity were public knowledge, despite his parents’ best efforts. He’d gone off the grid when he’d gone to Europe and nobody had known who he was anywhere he went. It had been a blessing, even though he’d missed his friends more than anything.

“I really don't care if people look at you funny when I’m there,” Chan sighed. “I need to sit in your classes to keep you safe.” He pulled into a parking spot, slowing Seungmin’s car to a halt. They'd gotten accustomed to their routine: leaving for class an hour early, just to stop by Seungmin’s favorite coffee place so he could make it through the day. Seungmin had begged and groveled for Chan to take him after the first week of classes had sapped the life out of him. Chan had given in after looking up the menu— they had pineapple juice. That seemed to be all he’d needed to be convinced.

“There's been no fucking threat, I doubt anyone even knows I’m back.” Seungmin jammed his tablet back into his backpack, zipping it closed. “You can sit outside the room and come in whenever you hear a gunshot, I guess.” Chan made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

“If there's a gunshot, I’m already too late.” Chan took the keys out of the ignition, unfastening his seatbelt and then Seungmin’s. “This isn't something you get to have a say on. You're not to leave my sight.”

“You let me piss alone,” Seungmin contested and opened his door, stepping out. “So you don't think there's a threat in the bathroom? Just my classes, where everyone is looking at me weird for sitting next to some old man?”

Chan’s gaze bore a hole in Seungmin's forehead. He steadied himself, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, before replying: “Then I’ll come in and watch you take a piss every time. Happy?” Chan didn't let Seungmin reply. “Nevermind— forgot, you don't get a fucking say.” 

Seungmin stormed off, feeling steam seep out of his ears. “I'm gonna kill him,” he whispered under his breath, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

There was still enough time before they had to get back in the car and drive to campus. Seungmin wanted to put Chan to the test. Without looking back, he slipped into the bathroom, and locked himself in a stall.

Not even five seconds later, the stall door slammed open behind him. Seungmin’s back was still to the door, and he closed his eyes in frustration. “Chan, you didn't need to–”

A hand covered Seungmin’s nose and mouth in a swift movement, tight enough he couldn't breathe in. It wasn't Chan. The hand was way too big. He’d spent enough much time looking at Chan’s hands on the wheel to know they weren't anything like the one blocking his airflow. 

He tried to scream and instantly felt a sharp jab to his back. Seungmin heaved forward into the hand on his face, nausea flooding his system. Closing his eyes, he focused on staying conscious, fighting back the bile climbing his throat. He clawed at the fingers digging into his jaw, frantically trying to get loose.

“Stop squirming, and I'll make this quick.” Unrecognizable. Seungmin knew voices well— painfully well. He'd never heard this man before. It filled his body with dread, blinking away tears as his vision started to fade. His hands fell to his sides and he slumped forward. “Just like that, shh. Stop fighting.” Seungmin’s stomach churned at the tone of the man’s voice. This was it.

He fought to keep his eyes open, but they kept closing unwillingly. Everything was fading. He couldn't make out what the man was saying anymore, but it was all in that same tone. That condescending, pitiful tone. Seungmin felt a tear fall and drip onto the man’s hand, only to feel it tighten around his face. This was it.

It all happened in a blur. One second, his knees were giving out and his vision was going black. The next, he was gasping for air on the ground, his ears ringing with a buzz in the back of his head. Seungmin started hyperventilating, needing to fill his lungs with as much air as he could get into his system. 

His head was on the ground when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Seungmin cowered, freezing at the touch on his back, and buried his face between his knees. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears, all he could see were the tiles of the bathroom under him. Tiles where the cracks between them were flooding red.

Seungmin started to look back behind him but was picked up and carried out of the room in a rush, his head still spinning. His eyes were cloudy, but he could make out a pool of red on the bathroom floor before his vision went black.

---

“–gmin? Hey, hey. Can you hear me?”

Seungmin slowly came to, his head spinning and his ears still faintly ringing. He coughed and cried out as he felt a sharp pain in his back. Tears streamed down his face at the burning ache in his lungs and the ache blooming from the middle of his spine.

“Okay, hey, lay down.” Chan’s voice. Seungmin felt hands on his shoulder, slowly guiding him to lay down. Seungmin’s head hit a pillow and blankets were pulled up over his chest.

Seungmin was in his bed. He could tell by the feel of his pillow under his head. How long had he been out? It took at least half an hour to go from his house to the coffee shop.

“I’m so sorry,” Chan whispered as Seungmin felt the bed dip beside him. A hand ran through his hair, warmth spreading from the crown of his head to his toes. “I’m so sorry, Seungmin. I should've come in with you, I'm sorry we fought, I’m sorry you had to see what you saw.”

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly to adjust to the light coming from his window. Seungmin’s gaze was met with the most remorseful look on Chan’s face he’d ever seen on anyone.

Seungmin stared up at Chan for a long time. Searching his face. Studying it. Comparing the red under his bottom line of lashes to the red at the tips of his ears blooming the longer Seungmin stared.

“Why…” Seungmin started, instantly choking on air. His lungs were shot. Chan brought a cup to his lips, tilting it back to let Seungmin drink. The cold water iced his throat, his lungs instantly feeling lighter. “Why,” Seungmin tried again, “did my ears ring? What happened?”

Chan’s face soured, setting the cup back down on Seungmin’s bedside table. “I… forgot to put my new silencer on. I burned out the old one, and never installed the new one. I'm sorry.” Chan smoothed out the blankets on top of Seungmin, his hands faintly shaking. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice softer.

“A silencer…?” Seungmin pieced everything together. “You have a gun? You shot him?” Chan met Seungmin’s gaze, his expression hardening.

“I had to. He had a knife, Seungmin. One more second and it would've pierced your skin.” Seungmin huffed, looking away from Chan, the searing pain in his back having not ceased. If that wasn't a knife that had hit him, then what was it? 

Chan had a gun. Seungmin had figured he had some way to protect him, to ward off anyone who threatened to hurt him. But he hadn’t realized he’d have a gun. It wasn’t too rare to have guns— especially in their area, deep in the South. But he didn’t realize Chan had had a gun this whole time.

Seungmin wasn’t sure what to think. He had never been a fan of them, but generally the guns he’d seen had been pointed at him. This was the first time a gun had been in his vicinity and not had the barrel aimed for his head. He wasn’t sure what to think.

“Your dad would've killed me if you got seriously hurt,” Chan whispered after a minute of silence, after letting Seungmin swim with his thoughts. Seungmin suddenly felt like he had been the one shot after hearing Chan say that.

Right. Chan didn't care. He was just being paid to keep Seungmin safe. Right.

“Leave. Now.” Seungmin turned on his side, his back to Chan. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought the whimper at the base of his throat from the ache in his back.

“Seungmin…”

“I said, leave.” He buried his face in his pillow, his eyes stinging.

Seungmin felt the bed lift behind him, then a hand gently rubbing his shoulder over the comforter. “No more classes this week.” Chan squeezed Seungmin’s shoulder, then let go. “It's not safe. You're staying home.”

Seungmin didn't respond. A tear escaped his closed eyes, melting into his pillow. He didn't know if he was crying from the pain in his back and lungs, or the pain of knowing Chan was only nice because of his dad’s money. He didn’t really want to know.

“Sleep well.” Chan’s voice was faint, distant— the door closed swiftly after.

Chan didn’t care. He was just in it for the money.

Seungmin drifted to sleep with his pillow soaked under his cheek.

Notes:

"de selby (part 1)" — hozier

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 2: de selby (part 2)

Notes:

chapter warnings:: mention of insomnia but yeah basically nothing.

I wanna run against the world that's turnin'

I'd move so fast that I'd outpace the dawn

I wanna be gone

I wanna run so far, I'd beat the mornin'

Before the dawn has come, I'd block the sun

If you want it done

Seungmin moped around the house for a week after that day and barely responded to Chan. He was glad Chan felt bad about the silencer thing— he used it to his advantage way more than should've been possible. Maybe Chan’s guilt was really that bad.

He let Seungmin choose dinner every night, didn’t force Seungmin to catch up on any of his work as he missed his classes, ran errands whenever Seungmin even slightly hinted at wanting something.

It was nice, having Chan do anything he asked. He knew it wouldn’t last long, so Seungmin was taking advantage of Chan’s guilt for as long as possible.

Seungmin didn't speak to his friends about what had happened. They knew he had a bodyguard, but nothing about what had happened at all since he and Chan had moved in together.

Seungmin had gotten back late July, classes had started the first week of August, and it had taken until the 10th of September to get the whole friend group together. It had taken a month and a half since Seungmin had arrived home for them to finally plan out a time they could all meet: a random Thursday, in the middle of the campus lawn, just after 3pm when Felix and Hyunjin got out of their dance practice.

It had been a week since the… incident in the coffee shop’s bathroom. Chan had started to ease up a bit, and had let Seungmin accompany him when he’d picked up dinner the night before. He’d given in and allowed Seungmin to meet up with his friends, as long as they stayed in public, and Chan was there.

Seungmin was dreading the moment Chan met his friends more than anything else in his life. He would’ve rather come out to his parents again than ever deal with this. He felt the years being stolen from his life as he neared the picnic table.

“Please,” Seungmin whispered under his breath. Chan waited patiently as Seungmin stood still behind the tree. “Stay here. Don’t come over. I’ll be okay. You’ll be able to see me just fine.” Chan narrowed his eyes at Seungmin, tonguing the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t think I trust you enough just yet.” Chan didn’t even try to lower the volume of his voice, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll come sit with you or you won’t sit at all. Understood?” Seungmin took a long breath in, grounding himself.

“Fine. But you don’t say a word.” Seungmin glared and walked away without letting Chan respond. He could hear a sigh behind him, but he refused to turn around.

Felix was deep in a rant by the time Seungmin sat down. “I’m just saying,” Felix sighed, pursing his lips. “If your account says verse top— be a verse top!” He cried out, slapping the table. “This is the third guy with that on his account who refused to top! Fuck am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can top them!”

“Uninstall Grindr, that’s what you’re supposed to do.” Hyunjin pointed his pencil at Felix without looking up from his sketchbook. “Meet someone in your classes like I did.”

“First of all—” Seungmin took Hyunjin’s pencil out of his hand, holding it far out of his reach. “How do we even know that your mystery man is real?” Hyunjin glared at Seungmin and stood up to yank his pencil back.

“He’s real. I’m sorry he’s closeted and I can’t introduce him, I can’t really kill his parents myself.” Hyunjin went back to sketching in his book. “But seriously. Felix. There’s more to life than hookups.”

Felix groaned, his head falling onto the table. “I’ve given up on love. There’s no point. May as well get dicked down to pass the time.”

Jisung tsked, petting Felix’s golden hair softly, making sure none of it was laying on the sticky picnic table. “I won’t tell you to uninstall,” Jisung gently soothed his hair, “but be careful, okay? It was scary picking you up from a random motel at 3am.”

Felix nodded, lifting his head. “I know. I will. I’m sorry. We don’t all have a perfect boyfriend like you do,” Felix pouted as Jisung laughed, his ears flushing red.

“Shut up.” Jisung covered his face in his hands, hiding his blooming face.

“God, I hate gay people.” Seungmin pulled out his textbook in an attempt to study. 

Hyunjin flicked Seungmin’s forehead. “Don’t look in the mirror, then.” Seungmin scoffed in fake disgust, slapping away Hyunjin’s hand.

“I’m not gay. Dicks are gross.” Seungmin shuddered.

Jisung’s head was back up, his skin back to its normal honey tone. “That’s what I thought too before I got Minho’s dick in my—” Felix smacked Jisung’s shoulder to shut him up. Jisung cried out, far louder than Felix’s slap warranted.

“Cunt. We have a guest.” Felix hissed, stealing a glance at Chan.

Seungmin was beyond grateful that Chan had listened to his wishes. Maybe Chan still felt guilty. Chan hadn’t said a word since he had taken a seat a couple seconds after Seungmin had sat down. But of course he had to sit down next to Felix. Seungmin couldn’t get out another word before Felix did what he did best.

“So, hi.” Felix beamed at Chan, tucking his hair behind his ear. “You’re Chan, right? You’re cute. I’m happy I get to meet you finally.” Seungmin cleared his throat loudly, making both of them turn their heads. “What? Can’t I have my fun?”

Seungmin glared at Felix. Playfully, of course. “Do not fuck my bodyguard, Mr. Lee.” Felix raised his hands in defeat, giggling to himself.

“Boo. He’s my type, too.” Felix pouted after stealing one more glimpse at Chan.

Seungmin didn’t want to see the look on Chan’s face. He refused to look that way. He couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest— Chan sitting next to his hottest friend, his friend who hooked up with older men every night of the week, his friend who could get anyone to fall for him. Seungmin refused to acknowledge Chan’s presence.

Was it jealousy? No. What could Seungmin possibly be jealous of? He wasn’t gay. He didn’t want to fuck Chan. He didn’t want to know what Chan looked like under his black slacks and silk button down. He didn’t want to know what Chan would sound like if Seungmin was on his knees.

---

It got dark fast. Seungmin’s textbook remained untouched and Chan started to get antsy.

Chan cleared his throat while the other three were busy scrolling through Felix’s matches. Seungmin shot him a glance, which Chan ignored. “We should go,” Chan whispered, trying his best to not be heard by the others. Seungmin appreciated the gesture, but remained stubborn.

“Why? It’s not even seven yet,” Seungmin replied at a normal volume. Felix raised his head, looking between the two.

Chan’s slight smile dropped, staring through Seungmin. “You haven’t gotten any work done,” Chan sighed. “None of you have gotten any work done.”

“Ever heard of friends?” Seungmin bit back. Felix blinked up at him in surprise, not used to seeing the bratty side of Seungmin. Felix stared at Chan, waiting for his response.

Chan met Felix’s gaze and smiled at him. A real, soft smile. One that Seungmin had never seen before. Seungmin found out at that moment that Chan had dimples and felt his heart sink in his chest.

“Home.” Chan stood, knocking on the picnic table. “Now.”

Seungmin knew better than to fight back.

The walk back to the car was silent. Seungmin followed Chan, staring down at how he buried one of his hands in his pockets, the other twirling his keys around his finger. Seungmin tried his best to pretend like it didn’t make his heart ache.

“Is Felix your type? Since you’re both Aussie?” Seungmin asked once they were on the road and Chan had no way out. He was met with silence. It took all the strength in Seungmin’s body to turn his head to look at Chan and he instantly regretted it.

Chan was smiling. The same smile from earlier. The real, soft smile that showed his deep dimples. The genuine smile Seungmin had never seen on his face before. Seungmin wanted nothing more than to live in Felix’s skin.

The closest he could get was a box of cheap bleach.

---

Chan didn’t stop Seungmin when he ran inside the house as soon as they parked. Seungmin ran straight to his room and locked the door behind him, rummaging through his bathroom cabinets. He found the bleach in the back, hidden behind his overstock of his favorite overpriced shampoo— there was a joke there, but Seungmin was too frantic to get his hair to the right tone that he didn’t stop to think.

He had never done anything to his hair before. His parents always paid for his hair appointments. The family barber would come to the house once every two months, trim Seungmin’s hair, then he wouldn’t touch his hair again until the next time. Bleach had never touched his hair before. He didn’t know a single thing about it besides helping Felix tidy up his roots.

He ignored the warning on the box to not use it at home without a professional and mixed the bleach with the developer, before slathering it all over his head.

Seungmin let the bleach sit in his hair for as long as he could stand. It burned, it felt as if it was seeping into his skull, staining his bones. He felt dizzy and nearly tripped over himself to turn on the bathroom fan, sitting on the bench along the wall to ground himself. After an hour of excruciating pins and needles on his scalp, he jumped into the shower.

He refused to look at his reflection after he dried off. It was a good thing he loved steaming hot showers, because the entire mirror was fogged up and prevented him from getting a single glimpse.

He went to bed not knowing the state of his hair— not particularly wanting to know, either. He knew it’d be a mess. But he’d rather the first person who saw it be Chan.

What was wrong with him? He’d never felt this way before. Did he hate Chan? Absolutely. Did he look forward to seeing Chan? Without a doubt. Did he hate spending even a second around Chan? More than anything.

Did he want Chan? That’s what Seungmin was trying to figure out, running a hand through his shocked strands of hair. He’d had crushes, plenty of times, but every single one of them had been— well, female, for one. Never almost twice his age. Never his own bodyguard.

He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. He just wanted… he wanted to see Chan’s dimples again. He wanted Chan to smile at Seungmin like he did at Felix. That was all.

Seungmin fell asleep quickly thinking about Chan’s lips.

---

Chan stared a little too long. Seungmin felt triumphant for the minute before Chan piped up.

“It’s not that bad.” Chan bit back a laugh and Seungmin felt his heart drop in response. Chan must’ve sensed the change in Seungmin’s demeanor, because he immediately backtracked. “I mean– It’s… It’s cute, Seungmin.”

“I didn’t bleach it for you,” Seungmin blurted out, lifting his hand to tug at the orange strands. Chan finally let out the laugh that he had been keeping in.

“I didn’t say you did, baby.”

Baby?

Seungmin turned his back to Chan, pretending like the endearment didn’t tug at his heart. He refused to give Chan the satisfaction. Never.

After half an hour of bickering, Seungmin finally let Chan drive him to the nearest salon to fix his hair. It took three hours; another layer of bleach, countless products to save his poor excuse of hair, and some sort of mousse that made his hair feel like straw. Seungmin hated any sort of product that stayed in his hair— it was a sensory nightmare. At least it was the right color.

Chan still hadn’t said a word since they had arrived at the salon. He let Seungmin take complete control over the appointment and held his tongue when Seungmin showed the stylist a photo of Felix.

“So you hate it.” Seungmin looked out of the window, facing away from Chan. Chan sighed, starting up the car to drive home.

“I thought you said you didn’t bleach it for me?” Chan’s voice had no air of malice.

“I didn’t.” Seungmin huffed, pulling down the sun visor and flipping open the mirror to examine his hair again. The sun reflected in his newly blonde locks, a golden sheen to his hair. It looked perfect. Seungmin wanted Chan to say it was perfect. Seungmin wanted Chan to like it.

Why did Seungmin suddenly care so much about what Chan thought?

“Whatever,” Seungmin hissed. He flipped the visor back up, staring out the window again.

Another minute of silence passed as they drove before Chan slowly pieced a response together. “Felix isn’t my type.”

Seungmin froze, gripping his pants hard enough to rip them. “Then what is?”

Seungmin instantly regretted asking. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to hear a description of someone he wasn’t. He didn’t want to hear a description of himself. He didn’t know what he wanted.

“Cuties in denial,” Chan started, his voice low. “Cute, touch starved, angry because they’re touch starved. Feisty little puppies that lash out because they don’t have enough control.”

The car stopped at a red light and Chan made eye contact with Seungmin.

“Happy?”

“I thought you said I wasn’t your type?” Seungmin huffed.

Chan smiled and looked back at the road. “Who said I was talking about you?” Seungmin’s face felt warm.

“I’m not in denial.” Seungmin looked straight ahead.

“Never said you were, baby.”

“Stop calling me baby.”

“Would you rather I call Felix baby?” Seungmin flinched.

“Fuck off.”

Chan just laughed and took the next turn into their neighborhood.

What you're given, what you live in

Darlin', it finds a way to live in you

And your heart, love, has such darkness

I feel it in the corners of the room

Seungmin couldn’t sleep that night. He knew better than to get on his computer— Chan had a sixth sense for when he was playing League, and he had a project due by Monday. He laid awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing.

What was he feeling? He hated Chan. He felt sick having someone around him at all times. He loved being out of his parents’ estate— but he had always imagined living with his friends, not someone paid to watch him 24/7. Chan was impossible to deal with. If Seungmin could get away with killing his parents, he would’ve done so a long time ago.

It wasn’t even 5am when he heard the bathroom door in the hallway click open. How? Seungmin hadn’t gone to bed until midnight, and he could hear Chan taking a shower and being awake for at least an hour after that. Was Chan still up? Had he not slept?

Seungmin quietly opened his door and found light spilling out of the open bathroom door. Chan’s room was also open, but no lights were on inside. Seungmin crept silently to look into the bathroom and his heart fell out of his ass.

Chan was standing in front of the mirror with only black sweatpants on, his back to Seungmin— fuck , his back. All of Seungmin’s anatomy lessons from high school came spilling back in droves as he scanned the expanse of Chan’s built back. As Chan messed around with the products obsessively sorted on the sink, his muscles tightened, stretched, loosened. Chan bent down to reach into a drawer, pulling out a small black drawstring bag. He put it off to the side, then lathered his hands in some sort of product, before bringing them up to his hair.

Oh, holy fuck . His hair.

It was curly. Chan’s head was a mess of tight black curls that perfectly fit his face, even more than his usual slick side part. He looked… cute. Seungmin felt nauseous.

He stepped forward to get a better look and the floor creaked under him. They both froze in place, Chan’s hands pushing his bangs up to look Seungmin in the eye through the mirror. His face was unreadable.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Chan asked softly after a couple moments of bated silence. Seungmin swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Seungmin whispered back. Chan chuckled, going back to lathering his hair with a leave-in conditioner.

“This is when I wake up. It takes time to straighten my hair every morning.” Seungmin chewed his bottom lip, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Chan detangle his curls with a wide–toothed comb.

“You look better with curly hair,” Seungmin muttered under his breath. Chan raised his eyebrows, making eye contact with Seungmin in the mirror.

“What was that, baby?” Chan smirked, plugging in a blowdryer. Seungmin flushed red.

“Nothing.” He stepped back, rubbing his eyes. The exhaustion was starting to hit him. He hadn’t slept in over 30 hours by that point. Chan cooed, turning to lean back against the sink.

“Go to bed. I’ll wake you up in time for your class, yeah?” Seungmin nodded, stepping back.

“Okay. Okay,” Seungmin repeated, slowly reaching to close the bathroom door.

“And thank you,” Chan whispered softly. He smiled back at Seungmin as he pulled the door closed. 

Seungmin froze. “For what?” He asked, bewildered.

What could Chan possibly be thanking him for? 

Chan just smiled and turned on the dryer, sectioning out his hair as he ran it over his scalp.

Seungmin closed the door behind him. He made his way back to bed, staring up at the ceiling. How could he sleep after that? Was Chan flirting? What was that? How was he supposed to sleep after seeing his hot older bodyguard shirtless? After learning his hair was naturally the prettiest curls Seungmin had ever seen?

Seungmin couldn’t sleep. Again.

It was noon when Chan walked into Seungmin’s bedroom, his hair slicked back. Seungmin was scrolling on his phone, then looked up as Chan approached his bed. He thanked every god that people prayed to that Chan was wearing a shirt now. And it was long sleeved— Seungmin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Class is in an hour.” Chan sat on the edge of Seungmin’s bed, patting his leg. “Get dressed, and we can pick up a drink from a new place on the way.” Seungmin groaned, picking up one of the pillows along his headboard to scream into it.

“Please, god, don’t make me go to class today,” he cried out, tossing the pillow aside. “I haven’t slept at all.” Chan made a strained noise, which made Seungmin happy his eyes were squeezed shut.

“Why?” Chan sounded wounded. “I told you to sleep after you came creeping up on me,” Chan huffed, gently caressing Seungmin’s leg over the comforter. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Seungmin affirmed, rubbing his hands all over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. “Please,” he whispered, softer this time. “Don’t make me go to class. Today is just review anyway.” Chan sighed, squeezing Seungmin’s thigh.

“How do you know it’s just review, hm?” Chan’s voice was soft. In any other tone, Seungmin would’ve thought Chan was mocking him— but he seemed like he was sorry Seungmin hadn’t gotten any sleep. It was his fault, after all.

“Looked earlier,” Seungmin hummed, slowly blinking his eyes open to unlock his phone, showing Chan the calendar for the course. “It’s just a review over the last couple of chapters. And you know I’ve read them all because you didn’t let me play a single minute of League until I did.”

Chan giggled, the sound music to Seungmin’s ears. Chan’s voice hitched every other giggle, making a high squeak.

Seungmin hadn’t made Chan laugh like that before. He wanted to do it more.

After Chan’s squeaky laughs died down, he let out a long sigh. “Okay,” Chan gave in. “Fine. But if your dad finds out I let you skip—”

“I don’t talk to him,” Seungmin cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’ll never find out.”

“Okay.” Chan stood up, smoothing out the comforter over Seungmin’s legs. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Seungmin glared up at Chan. “I shouldn’t have to thank you. I shouldn’t be prohibited from doing things without your permission.” Chan feigned hurt, gripping his shirt over his heart tightly.

“Wow. I… I thought our eyes met. I thought we had something. What happened?” Chan pouted and Seungmin huffed, laying down and pulling the covers up over his shoulders.

“We didn’t bond for shit,” Seungmin hissed, laying on his side with his back to Chan. He squeezed his eyes shut at the dull ache in the base of his spine. The bed dipped behind him and he froze.

“Sorry, sorry,” Chan whispered and placed a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder over the blanket. “Look, you can tell me if this is overstepping, but—” Chan started rubbing circles into Seungmin’s shoulder with his thumb. “I have pretty bad insomnia,” Chan continued. “Like, really bad. The only things that help me are medication, or…” He paused the movements of his hand. “Or sleeping next to someone.”

Seungmin hadn’t breathed since Chan had touched his shoulder.

“Again—” Chan took his hand away. “You can tell me if I’m overstepping. But you haven’t slept all night, and… honestly, I could use the rest, too. It’s up to you, Seungmin.”

Seungmin finally took a breath in, then started coughing. Chan patted his shoulder gently, helping him through his coughing fit.

Who the fuck was Chan pretending to be? Why was he acting so nice all of a sudden? Did he want something from Seungmin?

“Do you want something from me?” Seungmin voiced his thoughts aloud. Chan let out a shallow breath, almost a laugh.

“No. I’m sad you think that low of me.” Seungmin could hear the pout in Chan’s voice.

“I don’t know you.” Seungmin buried his face in his pillow. Chan squeezed Seungmin’s shoulder, then let go. The bed felt lighter suddenly.

“Got it. I’ll go, then.”

Seungmin shot up, hand reaching out to grab Chan’s wrist. Chan let himself be pulled back, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” Seungmin apologized, rushed, “please lay with me. I can’t sleep. It’s killing me.”

Chan nodded, lifting the covers and settling in next to Seungmin.

He laid down, pulling Seungmin in to rest his head on Chan’s shoulder. Seungmin buried his face into Chan’s sweatshirt, laying his hand on Chan’s chest.

“Thank you,” Seungmin whispered into Chan’s shoulder. Chan hummed in response, running his hand through Seungmin’s blonde hair.

“You’re welcome, baby. Wake me up if you need to get up or if I need to move.” Seungmin nodded, nuzzling deeper into Chan’s shirt under the comforter’s warmth.

Seungmin hated Chan. More than anything.

But Chan smelled so good. Chan’s shirt was so soft. Chan’s arm felt so good around Seungmin’s waist. Seungmin had never felt more comfortable in his life.

He slept twelve consecutive hours on Chan’s chest. Chan slept eight, then spent the remaining four with his face buried in Seungmin’s hair. Seungmin could’ve sworn he felt a few kisses to his scalp in his sleep— but that was probably his imagination.

Yeah. It was his imagination.

Let all time slow, let all light go

I don't need to know where we begin and end

I'd still know you, not being shown you

I only need the workin' of my hands

Notes:

"de selby (part 2)" — hozier

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 3: first time

Notes:

chapter warnings:: masturbation, in depth discussion of league of legends (sorry), descriptions of top surgery scars

Some part of me must have died

The first time that you called me ‘baby’

And some part of me came alive

The first time that you called me ‘baby’

It was just shy of two months since Seungmin had moved into the new place. He was so on edge the whole time— stressed about having no privacy anymore, worrying about classes, mad at Chan’s existence, mad at his father, mad at his mother’s silence.

For once in those two months, Chan had gone to sleep early. Seungmin knew his routine by now; Chan would take a shower and go to sleep at 1, then would wake up at 5 to straighten his hair. How he survived off four hours of sleep, Seungmin had no idea.

It was midnight, and Seungmin had never felt more pent up in his life. He thanked every god of every religion that he’d never had sex. That way, he didn’t know what he was missing. He didn’t know the feeling of a girl’s lips between his legs, he didn’t know what it’d be like to taste her, he didn’t know what it’d even feel like to make out with her.

Seungmin hadn’t gotten off in two months. He felt like if he touched himself for more than a second, he’d explode.

But he’d been in bed for over an hour, rubbing his clit in circles, dipping his finger down to get it wet, like he always did… and it wasn’t doing anything. Nothing was working. He scrolled through his bookmarks on his zero–follower private twitter account and, still, nothing was doing it for him. He clicked on his profile and went through his retweets— the perfect videos, the ones that always got him to the finish within seconds.

He still wasn’t anywhere close. He felt like crying, screaming, taking Chan’s gun and using it on himself. A fucking hour and it was starting to hurt . Seungmin felt physical tears forming in his eyes.

Seungmin was getting desperate. He opened an incognito tab and stared at the empty search bar. He was desperate.

He’d never been on a porn website, and it was beyond terrifying. The thumbnails looked— well, disgusting, to say the least. He wasn’t used to seeing videos with people’s faces, he didn’t understand the novelty of recognizing the people in the clips. 

He was too scared to click on any of them. He just scrolled and scrolled, his other hand barely ghosting across his skin. He had no idea why anyone would ever watch these. Nothing looked appealing. It was all the same. Nobody that looked like him. Nobody that looked like anyone he wanted.

His finger ghosted over his clit right as he came across a particular thumbnail— two men, one in a full suit on a chair, the other naked between his legs. Before he knew it, he was shaking. Warmth pooled between his legs, leaking out of his entrance down onto the fabric of his fitted sheet. Seungmin groaned, zeroing in on the man in the suit as he stroked himself through his orgasm.

He came for a full minute. It made sense— he hadn’t for a full two months. But that didn’t make it any less mortifiying that he had just had an orgasm to a man in a suit. Or was it the man on the ground? It didn’t matter. Either way, he’d come to a photo. Of men.

For the first time in his life, Seungmin thought he might be gay.

---

Seungmin finished his homework quickly that week. He’d finished everything by Tuesday to get his mind off it. He wouldn’t think about it. He couldn’t. It didn’t happen. He dove into League. He couldn’t think of a better way to distract himself.

“What are you doing, Seungminnie~?” Chan sang, shutting the door behind him as he entered Seungmin’s bedroom.

“Don’t call me that,” Seungmin snapped, throwing a pen from his desk in Chan’s direction. Chan laughed, catching it, then placed it back where Seungmin had picked it up.

“Oh, League?” Chan hummed, standing behind Seungmin. The queue popped, and Seungmin instantly accepted it.

“Mhm.”

“You’ve finished your work?”

“Yes, dad.”

“Good boy.”

“Fuck you.”

Chan laughed.

He left the room while Seungmin was in the pick phase, flitting between Teemo and Shaco. He was way better at Teemo, but Shaco was more fun. He lived for the complaints from his enemy team every time he invaded and popped out behind them in lane when they were already low. But it was hard to do successfully— and a small part of him wanted to impress Chan.

He locked in Teemo and ignored Chan when he came back in with a chair in hand.

“Why the fuck are you going Mosstomper for Teemo?” Chan sat behind Seungmin’s desk. Seungmin shifted his headset to the side so he could hear better as he walked into his jungle.

“Sorry, what?”

Seungmin had heard Chan loud and clear. The headset didn’t block out any amount of sound, and he had the game volume low. He just wanted to be difficult— and see if Chan would ask the same dumb question twice in a row.

“Why are you going green for Teemo?” Chan repeated, ever so patient, leaning forward. Seungmin chuckled.

“Heartsteel Teemo,” Seungmin hummed. 

Chan groaned. “Oh my god. Thank god I don’t play ranked so I won’t ever be against you.”

Seungmin was glad he’d just backed after placing a ward in the river— his head was filled with cotton.

“You… You play League?” Chan shifted his chair forward, now sitting right next to Seungmin.

“Not too much anymore, don’t have the time. Haven’t played much since the Katarina rework.” Seungmin’s head was spinning.

“You mained Katarina?”

“Mhm.”

“Mid?”

“Yeah. I play Ekko now, usually. Mid or jungle.”

“Oh.”

“I play more TFT though. League is too much.”

“Would you play with me?”

Chan went silent. Seungmin started overthinking after just one second of the hesitation and shifted the headphones back over his ears. It wouldn’t mask Chan’s voice, but Seungmin wanted an extra layer of separation between him and Chan.

He walked back into his jungle and did his clear like normal, acting like he didn’t mind the extra set of eyes boring into his monitor.

Seungmin didn’t know when something had shifted between them. It must have been before Chan had slept in his bed with him, because Chan had been acting sweet even before that. But Chan had acted like an asshole the next day: Seungmin had woken up with Chan pinching his cheek, making fun of how long he’d slept in Chan’s arms. Seungmin had flicked Chan’s forehead and pushed him away, pissed off at the way Chan had stayed firm and just laughed in response.

Maybe it was when Chan had killed that man in the bathroom. He had felt beyond guilty for a week after the fact, but he hadn’t been exactly… nice? Seungmin couldn’t put his finger on it. Chan had done anything Seungmin asked that week out of guilt, remorse, regret, for letting that happen to Seungmin and letting him see the aftermath. Chan wasn’t being nice that week. Chan hadn’t been nice by his own will until he’d helped Seungmin sleep that one afternoon.

Seungmin backed after a full clear, lost in his thoughts. He bought a Giant’s Belt, replaced his health potions with the refillable potion, and switched to the sweeper. He couldn’t manage a fight in this headspace.

Seungmin was consistently getting whiplash with the way Chan was treating him. One second he was inches away from kissing Seungmin, and the next he wouldn’t even give Seungmin the time of day.

He wasn’t sure which was worse. He’d much rather Chan pick one: either be cruel to Seungmin all of the time and make it easier to hate their whole arrangement, or be sweet to Seungmin forever and they could run away into the sunset together.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Chan whispered, snapping Seungmin out of it. Chan let his head drop onto Seungmin’s desk. “I’m never playing ranked again.”

Seungmin’s screen glared in an AFK warning. He couldn’t move his fingers.

“I won’t make you play ranked,” Seungmin managed. “I wouldn’t want your first game back to be for LP.”

“Thanks— But, besides that…” Chan laid his head to the side, looking up at Seungmin. “I’m really competitive. I don’t want to, like… I don’t know. Be upset around you. I don’t want you seeing me when I’m upset.”

Seungmin fought the burning sensation pooling in his stomach at the idea of Chan getting upset. At the game? At him? It didn’t matter. The visual of Chan clenching his jaw in frustration, closing his eyes to ground himself, fighting the urge to drive his fist into something— Seungmin held his breath.

His team spammed the chat, asking where he’d disappeared off to. The timer inched just barely over the fifteen minute mark and his teammates instantly surrendered.

Seungmin was unfazed as the screen glared in a loss. He didn’t move an inch when he got the notification that he’d lost 28 LP.

“It’s okay,” Seungmin stared straight at his monitor, watching the screen turn black, then popping up with the scoreboard. He didn’t have a single tick of damage against an enemy champion. “If you get upset, that is. It’s okay.”

“Seungmin—”

“We can just do ARAM?” He whispered, scrambling for any reason to see Chan playing the game with him. “It’s not that stressful. I’m competitive, too, but it usually doesn’t get me too upset.”

Chan groaned, burying his face back into the desk. “Fine. Okay.” Seungmin pretended like he wasn’t over the moon in excitement as he shifted his keyboard to the side to let Chan put his laptop on the empty space.

---

Chan was… insane, to put it plainly. Beyond any of Seungmin’s expectations. Seungmin had never made it out of bronze, and he was scared to check Chan’s account history. Chan didn’t die for the first twenty minutes– it was fucked . He was on Soraka, of all people. Seungmin had no idea how he managed to get most of the kills and 100% kill participation. Seungmin was on Mordekaiser and had two kills and twelve assists at the end of the forty minute game.

“I wanna die,” Seungmin’s head fell onto his keyboard, spamming the party chat once they’d finished the game. Chan laughed, resting his hand on Seungmin’s back.

“Poor baby,” Chan cooed, caressing up to Seungmin’s neck, massaging him gently. “It’s just ARAM, yeah? No need to get too upset.” Chan’s hand slipped under Seungmin’s shirt, digging his fingers into Seungmin’s taut muscles.

“Stop,” Seungmin whispered, whining into the table. “Let me die alone.”

Chan laughed, pulling Seungmin’s gaming chair closer to him, their thighs flush against one another. He ran his hands across Seungmin’s shoulders, pressing his thumbs into Seungmin’s shoulder blades. “I’m not gonna leave you. Ever.”

Seungmin made up his mind at that moment. He’d rather Chan be cruel. He’d rather Chan be mean, horrible, nasty— it would be way easier to deal with that, compared to the wet patch steadily growing in his briefs.

Why was he turned on? Because Chan was touching him? Because he was being sweet? Because he was so good at League? Because he was already dripping after Chan had gotten the first of three Pentakills?

“Hyung, please leave,” Seungmin barely choked out, snifting his legs to hide the dampness in his sweatpants. “ Please .”

“That’s new,” Chan hummed, taking his hand out from under Seungmin’s shirt. “Calling me ‘Hyung?’ Cute.”

Seungmin felt his clit throb. This was not happening.

“We’ll play some other time, yeah?” Chan ruffled Seungmin’s hair and stood up. With that, Chan left the room. Seungmin was frozen in place for another minute, making sure Chan had left before he lifted his head. He was so achingly turned on.

He sat back in his chair, staring at the scoreline of the one game they’d played. He zeroed in on Chan’s– thirty three kills, five deaths, thirteen assists. It was insane. Faker couldn’t get that K/D/A playing in an Iron lobby.

Seungmin had never felt more mortified in his life: staring at a League of Legends post-game lobby, his hand down his pants. Was he seriously about to jerk off to his bodyguard’s performance in a video game?

Yes. Yes, he was.

And the first time that you kissed me

I drank dry the River Lethe

The Liffey would have been softer on my stomach all the same

“Chan, it’s fine–”

“Stop.” Chan gently lifted Seungmin’s shirt, running his thumb over the bruise on the small of his back. “It still looks bad, Seungmin. You have to ice it, at least.” Seungmin groaned.

“It’s fine. I’ve healed from worse.” Much worse, Seungmin thought, his fingers ghosting over the raised skin of his thigh. “Don’t worry about me, Chan.”

Ignoring him completely, Chan opened the freezer and pulled out an ice pack. He made his way back over to Seungmin in the living room, hands placed on Seungmin’s waist. Chan pulled him to the edge of the couch, chuckling at the soft whine Seungmin let out. “Come on,” Chan whispered, softly letting his thumbs slip under the hem of Seungmin’s shirt. “Turn around, let me see it fully.”

Seungmin huffed, but complied. He turned around, back to Chan, and closed his eyes as Chan lifted the back of his shirt.

He didn’t know when it had happened; when Seungmin had stopped acting up as much, and started listening to Chan with minimal complaints.

The ice stung, but Chan’s fingers soothed his skin. Seungmin hadn’t seen the bruise on his back— it was in a spot that he couldn’t see in the mirror, even craning his neck the furthest he could. Chan’s tone seemed to say that it was worse than Seungmin imagined, even after almost a month.

“Seungmin,” Chan whispered after a minute of pressing the cool fabric to Seungmin’s skin. “It’s easier if you take your shirt off fully. Will you?”

Seungmin’s breath hitched at the idea of being shirtless in front of Chan, letting Chan see his body. He hadn’t ever let anyone see his body. He had been beyond dysphoric before his surgery, then self-conscious during the draining and healing process, then deathly insecure about his scars. He didn’t even let Felix see them.

“Chan…” Seungmin started, his head spinning. “I don’t… That wouldn’t…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Chan assured him, his free hand resting on Seungmin’s shoulder. “Just hold your shirt up for me, yeah? Then I can make sure the ice pack stays in the right spot.” Seungmin nodded, then reached his arm behind his back to hold his shirt up. 

He didn’t last a full minute before his arm started to burn. Seungmin hissed, jerking his arm back in front of his chest. “Ow, fuck—” Chan squeezed Seungmin’s shoulder, pulling him back against his chest.

“Are you okay?” Chan whispered, letting his hand soothe Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Hurts,” Seungmin whined, twisting his arm around to ease the ache in his joints. “Sorry. My body can lock up if I’m not careful.” He heard Chan hum behind him, massaging his shoulder.

“Take off your shirt. I won’t look anywhere else, I promise.”

Seungmin didn’t know if it was better or worse that Chan sounded so… pathetic? No, that wasn’t the right word— but Seungmin’s head had turned into mush at the first word out of Chan’s mouth in that tone.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Seungmin pulled his arm out of his shirt and pulled it off, shivering at the cold air— then wincing at the ice back on his bruise.

“Sorry, sorry,” Chan whispered, his voice gentle. “Come here,” Chan wrapped his arm around Seungmin’s waist, his other hand securing the ice pack against Seungmin’s back. “I’ll warm you up,” Chan hummed, burying his face in Seungmin’s neck.

Seungmin felt warmth blooming from the parts of his skin that were touching Chan, all the way down to every inch of his limbs. He no longer felt the ice on his back; just the overwhelming calmness in every atom of his body.

Seungmin leaned back into Chan, further and further, to a point where he was fully laying down on top of him. Chan chuckled, making sure the ice pack was trapped where it needed to be, before burying a hand in Seungmin’s hair and the other on his stomach. Seungmin’s eyes were glued shut, basking in the comfort of Chan’s touch.

Then he felt a fleeting touch on his chest. A fingertip, tracing along the scars.

Seungmin held his breath. Slowly, he opened his eyes, looking straight up at Chan.

Chan’s eyes were trained on Seungmin’s chest, following the trail of his fingers along the raised skin of Seungmin’s scar. Scars, rather. They started under his armpits, running along the middle of his chest, falling off near his sternum. Chan’s fingers traced every inch of them.

“You promised,” Seungmin choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking down to make eye contact. “You promised,” Seungmin started again, “to not look anywhere else.”

Chan’s hand froze on Seungmin’s chest, stilling in the space between the scars. “Sorry, just…” Chan fell silent, then slowly pieced his thoughts together. “Who… Who did this to you?”

Seungmin stared up at Chan for a full minute, staring straight into his eyes. Chan’s expression didn’t waver from the nervous, worried furrow of his brow.

Seungmin held back a giggle, and when Chan looked deathly serious at Seungmin’s choked chuckle, it burst out. Seungmin laughed with his whole body, ignoring the ache in his back, covering his face with his arm in embarrassment. He could feel his face heating up under his forearm and hid his reddening skin from Chan to the best of his ability.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Chan muttered, defeated. Seungmin snuck a glance up at Chan and was over the moon to find the tips of Chan’s ears cherry red.

“Have you never seen someone with top surgery before?” As Seungmin’s giggles died down, Chan’s eyes went wide in realization.

“... Oh. ” Chan whispered after a minute, his eyes shifting between Seungmin’s face and his chest, then down to his left leg. “So that’s what you were injecting that day.”

Seungmin sat upright abruptly, Chan fumbling to keep the ice pack secured on his back. “What the fuck did you think I was injecting? That was a month ago!”

Chan covered his face with his hand, rubbing at his temples. “I don’t know? I didn’t want to think about it. I figured you’d tell me if it was important.”

“You didn’t know I was trans?”

Chan parted his fingers to see between them and met Seungmin’s eyes. “No? How would I know that if you didn’t tell me?”

Seungmin looked down, messing with his fingernails. “I don’t know. I figured my dad would’ve said something. He isn’t particularly… supportive.”

The ice pack was discarded and Chan’s arms were wrapped around Seungmin’s torso, pulling him back down to his chest. Seungmin yelped, trying to scramble up out of Chan’s hold— but Chan was far too strong. Chan laughed, throwing a leg over Seungmin’s to keep him even more trapped in place.

“He barely told me anything about you,” Chan whispered into Seungmin’s hair, holding him tight. Seungmin gave up, melting into Chan’s arms. “He only used your name. He didn’t refer to you any other way.”

Seungmin sighed, turning his head to stare at the back of the couch. “Yeah. I wouldn’t respond to my deadname, so they had to use my new one. But neither my dad nor mom are good with the pronouns, so they don’t even try.”

Chan was oddly silent. His hand tightened on Seungmin’s waist and his nose dug deeper into Seungmin’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Chan whispered. Seungmin started to reply, to tell Chan he didn’t want pity, but Chan cut him off; “I know you don’t want to hear that, but you deserve an apology.” 

That shut Seungmin up. 

“You probably won’t hear it from your parents,” Chan continued, “so I’ll apologize on their behalf. I’m sorry, Seungmin.”

Rendered speechless, Seungmin shifted under Chan’s grasp, turning around. He faced Chan, burying his face in his chest. “Thank you,” Seungmin mustered, his voice muffled by Chan’s shirt.

Chan chuckled and retrieved the ice pack, placing it gently on Seungmin’s back. 

Chan didn’t respond. Seungmin was glad he didn’t.

---

Seungmin’s wardrobe was looking rough. He’d grabbed the limited clothes from his dresser at his parents’ place— all pieces he’d worn in high school. He’d had the most horrid emo phase: everything was black, ripped, mesh, baggy. Seungmin had been avoiding the most heinous parts of the closet, opting to just wear the black sweatshirts and sweatpants every day.

He needed something more. He needed clothes that were actually him . He missed the clothes he’d worn in Europe. He’d felt so free there.

But he didn’t want those expensive ass clothes from Paris. He’d be bullied relentlessly showing up in a full Burberry outfit to his intro college classes.

He needed outfits for Felix and Jisung’s birthday party, the party his parents would throw for Seungmin’s birthday, and god knows what else his friends would rope him into to celebrate his birthday themselves.

“Why don’t you just go to the mall?” Chan stroked Seungmin’s hair, cuddled around him. Seungmin pulled himself closer to Chan, resting his head on Chan’s shoulder.

Seungmin had just come home from the worst test of his life, and needed comforting more than anything. Every single one of his friends were busy, and Chan was his last resort. His only option. It was better than nothing.

“I hate the mall,” Seungmin groaned. “Too many people. It’s stressful.” Chan nuzzled his face into Seungmin’s hair, humming gently.

“I’ll take you. You’ll only have to worry about me. I’ll take all the stress off your shoulders.”

Why was he being so nice? Seungmin’s head was spinning— Chan being nice felt so unreal, so unnatural. Was Chan getting paid more to be kind? Or was this pity?

It was dumb to let his guard down like this. He didn’t know Chan. Not in a way that mattered.

But Seungmin was starting to like the attention.

“I guess so…” Seungmin pressed his face into Chan’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. He smelled of vanilla and something earthy. It was so… Chan . “Okay," Seungmin conceded. "We can go.”

“Mmm…” Chan breathed in deeply, then pulled away from Seungmin’s hair. “C’mon. You gotta get up first, I’m not strong enough to sit up with you on top of me.” Seungmin lifted his head, rolled his eyes.

“You’re much stronger than you think,” Seungmin huffed, sitting up and patting Chan’s chest. Chan held Seungmin’s wrist, trapping his hand onto his chest.

Chan looked up at him with the softest smile on his lips. Seungmin felt his heart freeze in his chest.

There he was, in bed with his bodyguard, his hand splayed out between Chan’s pecs— what the fuck was he doing? Seungmin could feel Chan’s heart under his fingers, memorizing the ridges of Chan’s muscles under his hand. Felix and Jisung were pretty fit, but Chan… Chan was something else.

Chan moved Seungmin’s hand, guiding it to lay directly over his pec. He flexed his chest, and Seungmin held his breath as he felt the taut muscle under his hand. “Ch–Chan…” Chan chuckled, biting his lip as he looked up at Seungmin.

“What? You like my muscles?” Seungmin shuddered, yanking his hand away with no resistance from Chan. He just smiled that dumb fucking grin up at Seungmin, his eyes following Seungmin as he stood up and walked across the room, locking himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck .

---

Chan hadn’t let go of Seungmin’s wrist once since they’d stepped out of the car. At least he had the decency to not hold his hand— Seungmin wouldn’t have been able to last a minute with Chan’s fingers intertwined with his. Not when he’d rubbed one out the night before to the idea of Chan.

“Hey, you two!" A woman waved them over, standing outside a sushi restaurant. Seungmin stopped, his stomach growling. She smiled, making eye contact with Chan. “We have a couple’s discount, are you interested?”

Seungmin froze, looking down at his feet. Chan chuckled, squeezing Seungmin’s wrist. “Maybe in a bit." Chan’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “We’ll circle back around later.” Seungmin felt his skin burn under the woman’s gaze.

She thought they were dating? And Chan didn’t correct her?

Chan pulled him ahead, chuckling at the blush dusting Seungmin’s cheeks. “How about in here?” Chan pulled Seungmin back, stopping him from walking ahead. He nodded towards the storefront next to them. Seungmin looked up and closed his eyes in frustration. Burberry.

“No. No, I’d be eaten alive if I got anything from there and wore it. No.” Chan laughed, pulling Seungmin in through the open doors. Seungmin groaned. “Chan, no, wait—”

“C’mon.” Chan held Seungmin’s wrist securely, pulling him to a clear jewelry case. “Choose something, anything. I’ll buy it for you.” Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“I could buy this entire store, Chan.” Seungmin raked his eyes across the bracelets. They all looked nice— a little too familiar. He looked down at Chan’s hand on his wrist, giggling as he recognized the same chain around Chan’s wrist as the one in the case in front of them. “What, are you trying to get us matching bracelets?”

Chan’s grip tightened around Seungmin’s wrist, leaning down far enough for his nose to brush against Seungmin’s ear. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t like it when I didn’t correct that lady earlier,” Chan whispered, rubbing circles into Seungmin’s wrist with his thumb. Seungmin suddenly felt warm, hot all over, like his skin was melting under his clothes. “Let me get you a bracelet,” Chan continued. “Let me buy you something. With my money.”

Seungmin groaned, covering his face with his free hand. “No. No, Chan. I’m not letting you buy me anything worth half a thousand dollars.” Chan huffed, pulling him close.

“Please?” Chan pouted, jutting his bottom lip out. If Seungmin had any less self control, he would’ve kissed him in the middle of the store. Chan held Seungmin’s wrist close to his chest, letting Seungmin feel his heartbeat. “Let me buy you something. Anything.”

Seungmin tried to pretend like there wasn’t a blooming warmth in his chest at the idea of matching anything with Chan. If he let Chan buy him a bracelet— what next? Clothes? Shoes? A necklace? A ring?

Seungmin gave in and let Chan buy him a bracelet. Chan was far more stubborn than Seungmin gave him credit for. He let Chan fasten it onto his wrist. Seungmin stared at it around his arm for a little too long in the middle of the shop, just before Chan pulled him out into the walkway of the mall.

“So.” Chan held Seungmin’s wrist again, just above where the bracelet hung. “Are you hungry? Or should we stop somewhere to actually look at clothes?”

Seungmin’s eyes were still locked on the chain around his wrist. Then on the chain around Chan’s. The matching bracelets, just inches away from one another.

Chan stopped walking and pulled Seungmin aside, out of the way of the traffic of people walking between storefronts. “Seungmin.”

“What?” Seungmin looked up, narrowing his eyes at Chan. Chan just smiled.

“Food or clothes?” Chan repeated his question in simpler terms, sickeningly patient. Chan was so sincere in everything he did, like he poured his heart into every little action and word. Unwaveringly sincere. Unwaveringly patient.

Seungmin felt like he was being talked down to. Like an owner would to their dog. Or a dad would to their kid. Seungmin pretended like imagining his dynamic with Chan in that way didn’t make his body uncomfortably warm.

“Food,” Seungmin whispered, chewing his bottom lip as he looked down at Chan’s fingers around his wrist. Chan squeezed gently, then relented. He didn’t let go, though.

“Did sushi sound good?”

“You want to go back and pretend like we’re dating for a couple bucks off already cheap sushi?”

“Why not?”

Seungmin didn’t have the energy in him to fight Chan. He gave in.

Chan refused to sit across from Seungmin, so Chan settled into the booth next to him. They got inexpensive sushi with their matching designer bracelets just inches away from one another. Seungmin didn't think about it at all.

---

Seungmin had just slipped off the sixth shirt Chan had picked out for him and accidentally saw his chest out of the corner of his eye. He generally avoided looking at it at all costs— he’d turned around every time he had to change in the stall. But suddenly, he wanted to look.

He looked at himself in the mirror and traced the raised scars of his chest with the same fleeting touch Chan had used. Seungmin’s fingers didn’t bloom the same warmth at every touch that Chan’s fingers had; but for once, he didn’t particularly hate what he was seeing. Chan had touched him there. Chan was gentle with him. Maybe he deserved that gentleness, he thought. A gentleness he never gave himself.

Seungmin threw on a black mesh shirt and narrowed his eyes at himself through the mirror. He definitely hadn’t picked this one out himself. It didn’t necessarily show his scars, but it did show off how flat his chest was. Seungmin wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Chan,” he whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over the blaring overhead speakers. “Come in?”

The stall door creaked open behind him and Chan poked in, a small smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, baby?” Seungmin glared at Chan in the mirror, then looked back at himself.

“Isn’t this too much?”

“It looks amazing," Chan whispered and stepped fully into the small room. He hugged Seungmin from behind, placing his hands on Seungmin’s hips. “Not used to showing this much skin?”

Seungmin shook his head and pretended like the skin under Chan’s hands wasn’t melting off his bones. “I don’t think I like it.”

Chan nodded, squeezing Seungmin’s hips lightly before pulling away. “It’s alright if it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to wear it. But it looks good on you, Seungmin.”

Chan left the stall and left Seungmin’s entire body blushing red. He quickly discarded the see–through shirt and put on the button-down he’d come to the mall in. But he added it to the pile of clothes to purchase— maybe it’d be a nice undershirt one day.

The rest of the outing was a blur. Seungmin got home with seven bags of clothes, half of them paid for by Chan (he’d insisted. “Since I chose these for you, I should buy them,” Chan had reasoned. Seungmin’s wrist had felt like it hadn’t been attached to his body since Chan had fastened the bracelet around it, so he’d been too preoccupied to resist).

He laid out everything he’d bought, sorting it into piles to throw into the laundry machine when it was empty. His favorite article was an oversized baby blue sweatshirt, one Chan had chosen. “It’s so… you ,” Chan had said as he picked it off of a rack, running his thumb along the inside of the sleeve. “And it’s soft. Sensory heaven for you, baby.” Seungmin had punched Chan in the shoulder, but had let a laughing Chan add it to the basket to try on.

Seungmin put it on in his bedroom. He usually hated wearing new clothes without washing them first, but this sweatshirt felt… right. He wouldn’t have picked it out for himself, it was far too— feminine wasn’t the right word. Sweet? Delicate? Tender? He knew if he wore it around Jisung, he’d probably make some comment about him looking like an omega, or something along those lines.

It was nine in the evening when they’d gotten home, and nearly midnight by the time Seungmin had sorted everything out. He was beyond exhausted— not used to going out much, especially to a place like the mall, where there were twenty people in his personal space every two steps.

Seungmin laid in bed, on his side, staring at the bracelet adorning his wrist for half an hour as his eyes grew heavier by the minute.

He fell asleep with Chan’s dimples on his mind and the taste of cheap sushi lingering on his tongue.

Notes:

”first time” — hozier (i have this song on repeat as i write this entire fic so. if you want to get into the same headspace i was when i was writing then that’s how)

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 4: francesca

Notes:

chapter warnings:: party!, alcohol use, underage drinking, panic attack, ptsd, flashbacks, angst, hurt no comfort (for now)(comfort comes later)(i promise)(please don’t be mad at me)(hold strong)

to celebrate 2kr seungchan i am posting early. please don't expect the rest of the updates to be this quick. godspeed.

My life was a storm since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end

I'd tell them, ‘Put me back in it’

Felix and Jisung’s annual party was so large this year that Seungmin knew his parents would be furious if they knew he was attending. He was shocked that Chan allowed him to go, even. He was tied to Chan’s side like a dog on a leash, and he figured his parents wouldn’t mind too much about large crowds as long as Chan was there. Still, it was baffling how Felix had managed to invite so many people. It was baffling how he even knew this many people. Seungmin couldn’t fill up the space in his bathroom if all his friends piled in together, Chan included. The two of them weren’t friends, though— not really. Seungmin just couldn’t imagine the concept of privacy anymore, so while everyone was mingling around and having fun … Seungmin was stuck to the wall with a bodyguard by his side. Super approachable.

Chan noticed Seungmin’s restlessness. It was hard to ignore, especially with the way he was fighting his own hand from snapping his cup of fruit juice in half. Many underage people were drinking at the party. Seungmin recognized Felix’s sister and her friends— all of which were 19 or younger, with full red cups in their hands. Seungmin would have one, too, if Chan wasn’t with him; if he hadn’t grabbed Seungmin’s hand when it ‘accidentally’ strayed to one of the red cups of watered–down vodka earlier.

It was stuffy and warm in Felix’s cramped living room. Chan’s shoulder was pressed against Seungmin’s shoulder, Chan’s thigh pressed against Seungmin’s thigh. Chan looked fine, unfazed; he was in a short–sleeved shirt and black cargo shorts. But Seungmin had to wear a button–up and slacks. He’d put on the mesh shirt from their shopping spree and torn pants when getting ready earlier— a lot more skin than he’d usually be comfortable with showing, but he was turning 21 in a week. Seungmin wanted to feel like an adult, to dress like one.

Chan had taken one look at his outfit, did the tongue thing that he knew drove Seungmin crazy, and with a frown he’d muttered: “Change.”

Whatever. Seungmin could get through this party. He just needed to survive a couple of hours on nothing but juice, and maybe one sip of Chan's beer later, if he asked really nicely.

“Why don’t you go have fun?” Chan leaned down to Seungmin’s ear. “You do know what that is, right?”

Seungmin wanted to punch him in the face, but the thought of blood on Chan’s mouth made his stomach feel weak, so he pushed the thought away.

“Seriously? You’re not even letting me drink. What am I supposed to be doing?”

“Talking to people? Socializing? You can do all that without alcohol.”

No, he absolutely could not. He hated socializing, hated talking, hated parties, hated all of this. He needed a way to loosen up if he wanted to even attempt to approach anyone that night. Fuck. Chan was such a dick.

“You wouldn’t let me stray even a foot away from you. I’m staying right here,” Seungmin huffed. “That’s better for you, isn’t it? No need to worry.” He felt Chan’s gaze on the side of his face. Seungmin refused to entertain him by looking back.

It wasn’t long before Felix stumbled into Seungmin, making him stumble into Chan in return. Chan was a concrete wall behind him, his stance unwavering. He placed his hands on Seungmin’s shoulders to stabilize him as Felix fumbled off of him. Seungmin shrugged off Chan’s hands with a huff.

Seungmin liked Chan’s hands on him. That, he had accepted. But he wouldn’t let himself melt in Chan’s hands in public, like he would at home. Seungmin would rather die. So he stepped away from Chan, enough to no longer be touching him in any way.

“Sorry,” Felix mumbled. He was beyond drunk. Seungmin knew what that meant and he braced himself. “Hey, Seungminnie~” Felix sang. “Come with us. We’re about to play fun games,” Felix slurred his words, turning to Chan. “You can come, too~” Felix beamed up at Chan and Seungmin felt his stomach twist into knots.

“No,” Seungmin shook his head. “We’re goo—”

“Sure,” Chan interrupted. Seungmin changed his mind from earlier— he really, really wanted to punch Chan now.

Felix grinned wide and clapped his hands twice. He stepped closer to Chan— in order to be heard easier or to spite him, Seungmin didn’t know. But he couldn’t do anything but watch, he couldn’t move. It felt like torture, the way Chan smiled at Felix with that same blinding smile from the day on the campus lawn, the way Felix put his hand on Chan’s bicep, sliding it up, resting on Chan’s shoulder dangerously close to his neck. What the fuck.

“You know…” Felix bit his lip and traced the hem of Chan’s shirt. “You can leave Minnie alone for a few minutes while he’s with us.” Felix’s voice was low. Seungmin knew that tone. “He’ll be safe, and then I can ask you something I’ve been meaning to ask—” Felix leaned into Chan’s ear, but didn’t speak any quieter. “In private.”

Chan’s smile didn’t falter. So polite, so sweet, so fucking unassuming. Seungmin’s imagination already plunged into the deep end— images of Chan taking Felix’s hand into his, the two of them going up the stairs to Felix’s room, making out against the locked door, Chan’s hands under Felix’s barely-there shirt, Chan’s tongue in Felix’s mouth. Seungmin felt like throwing up.

“No.” Chan gently picked up Felix’s hand and let it drop to his side. “I can’t let Seungmin out of my sight, nor do I ever want to.”

What? Seungmin’s heart stopped. What the fuck did that mean?

“I wouldn’t want to, anyways,” Chan continued, his voice still sweet. “Be in private with you. If there’s something you need, or anything you want to ask me, do it here.”

So Chan knew Felix’s intentions, Seungmin pieced together. He wasn’t that dense, and Felix wasn’t sober enough to attempt to be subtle. Seungmin felt relief wash over him, quickly replaced with immense confusion. Why was he relieved? Because his bodyguard didn’t want to fuck his best friend? Why did Seungmin care? He’d never cared before about Felix’s hookups. Why did it matter now?

Felix pouted, but took the hint and stepped away. “Okay. If you change your mind, the offer still stands,” he giggled with a poor attempt at a wink. Seungmin didn’t even register Felix’s hand around his wrist or being dragged away until they were already climbing the stairs. He only felt the familiar gaze on the nape of neck, the phantom feeling of Chan following behind, like always. He wondered if Chan would ever let him touch his neck like Felix had tried to. He wondered if Chan wanted to fuck Felix, but had just turned him down because he had to— but Seungmin was too afraid of the answer, so he stopped wondering at all.

Felix yanked Seungmin into his room and he was unsurprised to find Hyunjin sprawled out on Felix’s mattress, along with Jisung and Minho cuddled up on the floor at the foot of the bed. “I got Minnieeee~” Felix sang and joined Hyunjin on the bed, flopping on top of him. Hyunjin groaned, but just wrapped his arms around Felix in response.

“Hi, Minho,” Seungmin whispered, sitting against the closet door, in front of the couple. Minho beamed his bunny smile, ruffling Jisung’s hair.

“Hey, Seungmin. How are your classes?”

Minho was always so sweet. He and Seungmin didn’t talk much one–on–one— they didn’t really have a reason to. They only had one another’s contact information for Jisung’s sake, to make sure he was always taken care of. Minho was older, much older than the rest of them, but he didn’t stick out too much in the group when they were all together. He and Jisung may as well have been sewn together.

“They’re okay,” Seungmin started. “Just a little annoy–”

“Chan?” Minho interrupted, eyes wide. Seungmin followed his gaze towards his bodyguard, standing frozen in the doorframe.

He’d never seen that look on Chan’s face. The smile Chan had given Felix all those times before now seemed ingenuine— the light beaming from Chan’s face was blinding as he looked down at Minho. Seungmin couldn’t look away.

“Minho? The fuck are you doing—” Chan stopped himself, locking eyes with Jisung. “Holy shit. You’re Jisung.” Jisung stared up at Chan, his mouth opening but nothing coming out.

“You’ve literally met? You didn’t know his name?” Seungmin piped up and Chan laughed, running his hands through his hair.

“Fuck, I mean, none of you introduced yourselves that day,” Chan pieced together slowly.

“How do you know my name?” Jisung finally found his voice. Chan just nodded towards Minho.

“He doesn’t ever shut up about you. I blocked him a couple months ago because that was all he would talk about.” Minho threw a pillow at Chan. Chan just caught it.

“What the fuck! That’s why you haven’t been responding?” Chan shrugged, making his way over next to Seungmin on the ground. He hugged the pillow to his chest as his knee brushed against Seungmin’s.

“You know how to reach me if you really need me,” Chan smiled, patting Minho’s leg. Minho kicked him in response.

“Unblock me, you cunt—”

“Ah, ah,” Chan interrupted, grabbing Minho’s ankle and holding it in place. “You don’t get to say that word. Cunt.” Felix laughed, flipping Hyunjin over so he could sit up.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them!” Felix exclaimed, laying forward on his stomach, patting both Jisung and Minho’s heads. “Non–Aussies aren’t allowed to say ‘cunt,’ not if I can do anything about it.” Hyunjin joined Felix, hanging off the side of the bed, all of them circled around Jisung and Minho.

“Are you guys just going to sit around and debate if we’re allowed to curse,” Minho started, narrowing his eyes at Felix, head tilted back. “Or are we going to celebrate the birthday boys?” Jisung perked up, hugging Minho’s arm tight.

“Please, please!” Jisung grinned. “Can we play seven minutes in heaven?”

Hyunjin laughed from up above Jisung on the bed. “Are you twelve?” Hyunjin ruffled Jisung's hair. “We’re not going to play seven minutes in heaven. You’re a full–blown adult now.” Jisung pouted, looking down at his lap.

“Fine. Whatever.” Jisung whispered, resigned, letting Minho wrap his arm around his waist. Minho kissed his temple, rubbing at his waist. Jisung’s shirt had ridden up, and neither of the two bothered to pull it back down.

“You’re the birthday boy,” Minho whispered to Jisung, in their own world. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“I’m okay with it,” Felix joined in. “Seven minutes in heaven. It sounds fun.” Hyunjin groaned, burying his face in the sheets.

“Fine. Since everyone here is still in middle school, sure.” Hyunjin muttered into the mattress. Felix flicked the back of his head.

“You made us all play League for your birthday,” Felix narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin. “Let me and Jisung find another way to torture you in return.”

“How do we even decide who goes in together?” Seungmin spoke for the first time in a couple minutes. Chan’s knee brushed against his again. Felix slipped off the bed and sat next to Minho, right in front of Chan.

“A bottle, of course,” Felix picked up one of Minho’s empty beer bottles and placed it in the middle of the circle. Hyunjin plopped down between Jisung and Seungmin. “I’ll go first— since it’s my birthday today and Jisung was the focus all of yesterday.” Felix stuck his tongue out at Jisung.

Felix spun the bottle and it landed on Hyunjin.

“Yay!” Hyunjin jumped up, pouncing on Felix. “Come on, Lixie,” Hyunjin sang and yanked Felix into the closet as Minho started the timer.

“So…” Jisung crossed his legs, pouting. “What do we do while they’re in there?”

“Never have I ever?” Minho proposed, grabbing a couple beers from the 12 pack beside the bed. Seungmin winced— he hated beer. But Chan probably wouldn’t let him drink anyway.

“Seungmin will have just his juice.” Chan took a beer from Minho’s hand and thanked him. “I’m not letting him drink.”

“Probably a good thing,” Jisung mused. “His tolerance is pretty high. He’d go through all the alcohol in the house before midnight.” Chan nudged Seungmin with his knee, chuckling.

“Yeah? Is that so?” Chan smirked. Seungmin flushed red.

“I’ll go first,” Jisung giggled. “Never have I ever… made someone call me ‘Daddy’ in bed.”

“Asshole,” Minho hissed, taking a sip. Seungmin stared at the half–empty cup of juice in his hand. He suddenly felt so aware of his inexperience— the furthest he’d ever gone was a kiss that lasted half a minute. Maybe he’d like someone calling him ‘Daddy.’ But he didn’t know. He’d never had the chance.

“Ooh, interesting,” Jisung nudged Seungmin. He lifted his head to see Jisung nodding towards Chan, so Seungmin followed his gaze— Chan was drinking, and his eyes were on Seungmin. Oh .

“I guess it’s my turn,” Minho hummed, swirling his beer. “Never have I ever… kissed a girl.”

“Cunt,” Chan threw the pillow in his lap at Minho’s head. Jisung blocked it and pretended to lunge at Chan. Chan just laughed and took a sip. “That was targeted, you dick.”

Minho raised his hands in surrender. “Hey! I’m sorry for only liking dick, I guess.” Seungmin chuckled and took the tiniest sip of his juice. There wasn’t enough left to take full swigs. “Your turn, Channie~” Minho teased.

Chan groaned and stretched out against the wall. “God, what have I not done?” Seungmin’s face felt warm, and he looked back down at his lap. “Got it. Never have I ever hooked up with someone I met that same day.”

Minho picked up the empty beer bottle and raised it above his head, pretending to prepare to throw it at Chan. “It was ONE time! Will you ever let it go?” Chan laughed.

“Hmm…” Chan pretended to think. “No. You were my ride, remember? I was stranded for hours, and I thought you’d died.” Minho groaned, letting Jisung tug the empty bottle out of his hand.

“May as well have died,” Minho muttered. “His dick was so fucking small.” Minho took a long swig of his bottle. Jisung and Seungmin shared a look, then burst into giggles. Minho bottoming? They couldn’t imagine it.

“Your turn, baby,” Chan nudged Seungmin. His heart raced— really? Did Chan really have to call him that in front of Minho and Jisung?

“You two are so cute,” Minho slurred, pointing between Seungmin and Chan. “I’m glad you’re finally dating someone your type, Channie.” Seungmin froze, eyes wide as he looked up at Minho.

“We’re not dating,” Chan corrected, swirling his bottle. He seemed miles away. “I’m his bodyguard.” Minho clicked his tongue, slowly nodding.

“Got it. So you’re just fucking, then.” Seungmin choked on air, waving Jisung away when he reached forward to pat his back. Chan stifled a laugh.

“Not that, either,” Chan clarified. “Purely platonic.”

Seungmin was still struggling to breathe.

“Sure.” Minho was still doing that contentious fucking slow nod. Seungmin wanted to strangle him. “Whatever you say, man.”

Once Seungmin had started breathing normally again, all eyes were on him. He wanted to get back at Minho. He couldn’t think of a way to do so without also making Jisung drink— but sacrifices had to be made.

“Never have I ever fucked someone in this room.” Seungmin shot a toothy smile at Minho. He drank, shooting daggers at Seungmin. Jisung sipped his beer and winced— he, too, was not the biggest fan of it.

Jisung’s eyes suddenly bulged out of his head, his gaze fixed on Chan. Seungmin looked out of the corner of his eye to see Chan drinking out of his bottle, smiling at Minho. Minho was smiling back.

What the fuck .

Before anyone could say anything, the timer went off. Hyunjin and Felix stumbled out of the closet, their lips bruised and hair disheveled.

“Don’t worry, I got permission from Hyune’s mystery man to kiss him whenever I want,” Felix giggled out, stumbling back to his spot between Minho and Chan, oblivious to the look the two had just exchanged. “What’d we miss?” 

“Nothing,” Minho lied and fixed Felix’s hair as Hyunjin skipped over to sit between Jisung and Seungmin. “I reckon it’s Jisung’s turn, yeah? Since it was his idea, and his birthday.”

Jisung took the bottle and played with it, chewing his bottom lip. “How do I rig this to land on Minho?” He muttered, more to himself than as a joke for the others. Everyone laughed, anyway.

Jisung spun and it landed on Seungmin.

Seungmin stared down at the bottle as his friends cheered, Hyunjin shaking his shoulder. Seungmin was miles away.

He didn’t think this through. He wasn’t reminded of it until now.

Anything but going in that closet. God, please. He wouldn’t last three minutes. He couldn’t do it. It’d kill him. It would—

“Oh, wow, what are the chances…” Minho interrupted Seungmin’s thoughts. He came back to reality, looking down at the bottle now pointing towards Minho. Thank god .

The seven minutes of Jisung and Minho in the closet were over quickly. Seungmin stared at the ground the entire time. A couple thuds against the door, sure, and plenty of muted noises, but they joined Seungmin and the others in no time. Not without a couple new marks on the right side of Jisung’s neck.

“So,” Jisung sang, his voice a little hoarse. “It should be Seungmin’s turn now, yeah?”

No. Please, no.

“It only makes sense,” Hyunjin agreed. “Minho went in instead of Seungmin— so it’s Seungmin’s turn now.”

Seungmin’s whole body went numb. He loved everyone in the room, Chan excluded, but not nearly enough to be locked in such a tight space with any of them. He couldn’t even be locked in there alone.

Seungmin spun and it landed on Chan. Before he could register what was going on, or even protest, the closet door was shutting behind him.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

When the heart would cease

Ours never knew peace

The others were keeping track through the door, knocking as each minute ticked down.

Knock. Seven minutes left . 

“Are you okay?” Chan whispered, giving Seungmin as much space as possible. He sat on the ground, and helped Seungmin down to the floor too. There was at least enough room for that. “Seungmin. Hey.” Chan’s thumb rubbed circles into Seungmin’s knee. “Baby, are you okay?”

Seungmin tried to focus on breathing as his gut sank. Everything felt heavy— his clothes, his hair, his hands digging into one another, the air. He could only take in the shallowest of breaths. “Can’t—” Seungmin attempted to speak but his voice got caught in his throat, throwing him into a coughing fit. Chan sat closer, taking Seungmin’s hand into his.

“Shh, shh, okay, you don’t have to talk,” Chan squeezed Seungmin’s hand. Chan’s hand was impossibly soft. It was the only thing light that was currently touching Seungmin’s skin. “I’ve got you. Am I too close?” Seungmin shook his head. He needed Chan closer. He needed that weightlessness that he felt just holding Chan’s hand alone. He needed that everywhere. He needed Chan.

Knock. Six minutes left.

Seungmin didn’t need to say a word for Chan to understand what he needed. He pulled Seungmin onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Seungmin’s waist. “I’ve got you, baby.” Seungmin buried his face into Chan’s neck, breathing in his cologne. Vanilla. Mixed with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on— but it was so authentically Chan, he wanted to lick the scent off Chan’s skin. He wanted the scent to live inside of him for the rest of his life.

“Chan—” Seungmin hiccuped but Chan just petted his hair, shushing him. He ran his hand down Seungmin’s back, tracing his spine.

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” Chan whispered into Seungmin’s neck, pressing his lips to Seungmin’s skin. Not a kiss, not really. Just resting his mouth against the base of Seungmin’s neck. Like any normal bodyguard would do.

Knock. Five minutes left.

Seungmin still couldn’t breathe properly. Every inhale was shaky, and every exhale got rid of way more oxygen than he had in his lungs. Every inch of his skin was simultaneously on fire and freezing, his chest had caved in on itself.

He was back in the laundry room in his parents’ estate, curled up on the floor. How long had it been? Two— three hours? All he’d done was push aside the bowl of peas, the texture made him nauseous. But that was a heinous enough offense against his mother’s cooking: he’d be locked in the laundry room until his parents remembered he existed.

Four hours. Five hours. There was no window in the room, and though there was enough room under the doors for airflow, Seungmin could’ve sworn that the oxygen was running out in the room.

He’d had his first panic attack in that room. And his second. All the way up until his seventeenth panic attack— coincidentally on his seventeenth birthday. That was the night he’d run away to Felix’s house and stayed for a week before flying out to Europe.

Knock. Four minutes left.

Chan’s hand on the small of his back brought him back to reality. He pulled back from Chan’s neck, staring down at Chan’s chin, too scared to make eye contact or focus on Chan’s lips. But Chan tilted his head down to look into Seungmin’s eyes, and Seungmin’s gaze locked in on Chan’s mouth as he spoke. Onto his lips. Fuck.

“Hey,” Chan whispered, his pink lips pulled into a pitiful smile. “Lost you there for a second. You okay?”

Seungmin leaned forward and kissed him.

Chan immediately pulled back, tripping over his words. “Seungmin, wait, baby, let’s talk fir—” Seungmin pressed his lips back to Chan’s and relished the way Chan melted in return.

Seungmin’s entire body felt like it was floating. His body was back to its regular state: he was no longer overheating, no longer freezing, there was no longer a weight on his chest. The only thing that he could feel on his skin was Chan’s lips.

He’d kissed people, sure, but it’d never felt like this. Chan’s lips slotted perfectly between Seungmin’s, and he was beyond overjoyed to find Chan setting the rhythm. Maybe it was a lie to say he’d kissed people— it wasn’t entirely honest. Little pecks every now and then, but never this. Never a full–blown makeout session in his best friend’s closet. Never sitting on the lap of the man he’d gotten off to for the previous week.

Knock. Three minutes left.

When Chan’s tongue slipped into his mouth, he let out the most pathetic whine. Chan nibbled on Seungmin’s bottom lip before pulling back, whispering against his lips.

“Cute. Do that again,” Chan whispered. He fit his lips between Seungmin’s again, licking against Seungmin’s tongue. Seungmin buckled, collapsing into Chan’s chest, letting whine after whine be swallowed by Chan’s lips.

Chan’s hands slipped under Seungmin’s shirt, rubbing patterns into the small of his back. Chan was so gentle, so soft— Seungmin couldn’t believe this was the man he was fighting and bickering with constantly. He could’ve been doing this all along. He could’ve been making out with the hottest man he’d ever seen.

Chan pulled away, breathless, a string of saliva connecting their lips. Chan chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to Seungmin’s lips then licking both of their lips clean.

Knock. Two minutes left.

“Two minutes left, baby,” Chan whispered, cupping Seungmin’s cheek. “What do you want to do before we’re back out there?”

Seungmin’s eyes still hadn’t left Chan’s lips. “Is my face red?” Chan laughed and pinched his cheek playfully.

“You look like a cherry, little one,” Chan ran his thumb over Seungmin’s bottom lip and Seungmin whimpered under the dim light from the bulb above their heads.

“Don’t call me that.” Seungmin buried his face in Chan’s neck, gripping Chan’s shirt tightly. Chan smoothed out Seungmin’s shirt, pulling it back down to cover his skin. Chan cooed, pressing a real kiss to Seungmin’s neck. “Thank you, by the way.”

Knock. One minute left.

“For what, baby?” Chan whispered into Seungmin’s neck. “For kissing you back?” Seungmin huffed.

“Y–Yeah, I guess. But mainly… for helping me through that. I’m still…” Seungmin trailed off. “I’m still claustrophobic. I can’t be in here for much longer. But you helped me through the panic attack, so, thank you.” Chan peppered kisses all over the expanse of Seungmin’s neck— covering every inch of skin he could reach.

“I’m always here for you,” Chan whispered. “No matter what. Anything you need. I’m there.”

Seungmin pulled back to look Chan in the eye one last time and marveled at the way Chan looked up at him, the way Chan’s eyes softened. He pressed one more kiss to Chan’s lips before they stood up, smoothing out their clothes, standing as far apart as they could in the cramped closet.

Jisung slammed the door open, a wide toothy grin on his face. “Ha! Got you— Oh.” His face fell as he saw the distance between Chan and Seungmin. “So you guys didn’t fuck.” Seungmin stepped out of the closet and took a long breath in. He needed fresh air.

“No, we didn’t,” Seungmin replied, tugging at the neck of his shirt. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe next time,” Chan repeated, closing the closet door behind him. “Seungmin, need some fresh air?” Seungmin felt his heart race. Chan always knew exactly what he needed.

“Yeah. Please.”

There was a balcony outside the pool room on the second floor. Chan slid open the door to let Seungmin out. Seungmin sat on the porch swing, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. The fresh air felt so nice in his lungs. And Chan’s thigh felt so nice against his own.

Seungmin leaned his head on Chan’s shoulder as soon as Chan sat down and Seungmin closed his eyes. Chan caressed Seungmin’s knee.

“We should talk. Right?” Chan squeezed Seungmin’s thigh. Seungmin chewed on his bottom lip.

“About what?” Seungmin acted dumb.

“You’re not dumb, Seungmin.” Chan lifted Seungmin’s chin to look him in the eye. “We kissed. We need to talk about it.”

“I don’t wanna,” Seungmin pouted, burying his face into Chan’s shoulder. Chan sighed.

“Look,” Chan started, slowly piecing his thoughts together. “We shouldn’t have done that.” Seungmin’s heart dropped. 

Chan may as well have stuck his hand in Seungmin’s chest and ripped out his heart. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear.

“You’re basically my employer, my boss.” Chan’s hand was still on Seungmin’s knee. “That was unprofessional. Not to mention I’m way too old for you, Minnie. I shouldn’t have kissed back. We shouldn’t have kissed. It’s not right. I’m glad I could help you through the attack, but I shouldn’t have let you kiss me for so long. I shouldn’t have let it happen at all.”

Seungmin had heard enough. He shrugged Chan’s hand off his knee and stood up, walking back inside. Chan didn’t follow.

Seungmin ran into Felix’s room immediately, praying they were still there. The conversation inside stopped as soon as Felix saw Seungmin’s face. “Minnie? What’s wrong?” Felix instantly ran over to cup Seungmin’s face as the tears started falling.

“I’m fine,” Seungmin lied, tears streaming down his face. “I’m fine,” he repeated, this time to try to convince himself. Felix wrapped his arms around Seungmin tightly, rocking back and forth.

“Was it Chan?” Minho was already at his side, running a hand through Seungmin’s hair. Seungmin’s sob at the mention of Chan’s name was enough of an answer. Minho left the room.

Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung all piled on the bed around Seungmin, cuddling him and soothing his tears.

Seungmin was beside himself. He’d never felt this before: it wasn’t a meltdown, it wasn’t a panic attack, it wasn’t a flashback, it wasn’t anything he’d ever experienced. His skin was aching to the touch, and though it was nice to know his friends were there for him, it hurt. They weren’t Chan. They didn’t heal him like Chan did. It hurt when they touched him.

He stared up at the ceiling in Felix’s bed with his head on Hyunjin’s shoulder, Jisung spooning him from behind, and Felix sprawled out on top of the other three. Every inch of Seungmin’s skin burned.

---

Chan came into the bedroom long after the party downstairs had died down. Minho followed him in.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Seungmin stirred to the sound of Chan’s voice. He was trapped under his friends, so he couldn’t move to look at Chan— he was forced to cope with just hearing his voice. Maybe it was better that way. He didn’t think he could handle seeing Chan’s face.

“He’s been through a lot,” Minho replied. “I’m sure you know some of it by now, but, yeah. He hasn’t had a great home life.”

“Fuck,” Chan hissed. “I made it all worse, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, probably.” Minho wasn’t one to sugarcoat. Seungmin appreciated that.

“What do I do?” Seungmin heard something heavy fall to the floor.

“Apologize? Start there. And tell him how you really feel.”

“I can’t tell him. I feel like shit, but I wasn’t wrong. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

“He kissed you , Chan. He clearly wants you. Why are you pretending like you don’t want him, too?” Seungmin held his breath.

“I can’t want him.” Oh. “I won’t allow myself to want him. I can’t…” Chan’s voice cracked. “I can’t lose him.”

Minho and Chan didn’t say another word. They left the room and left Seungmin reeling. He lifted his head to look at the others, only to find out he was the only one awake. He dropped his head back down to Hyunjin’s chest and closed his eyes.

Seungmin decided then and there that he hadn’t heard the conversation. He fell asleep with every part of his body aching for Chan.

It was too soon

When that part of you was ripped away

A grip taking hold

Like a cancer that grows

Each piece of your body that it takes

Notes:

”francesca” — hozier

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 5: i, carrion (icarian)

Notes:

warnings:: hurt/comfort (i’m so sorry)(i promise there’s comfort), angst, testosterone injection mention, blood, self harm mentions, suicidal ideation, meltdown, autism! mention, mentions of sex but nothing happens, this is the payoff i'm so sorry for everything before

And though I burn, how could I fall

When I am lifted by every word you say to me?

The day after Felix and Jisung’s party was a Sunday. Seungmin was beyond grateful he’d have at least one more day to rot away in his bedroom to try to forget that Chan existed.

Seungmin said his goodbyes to everyone, and Minho held him a little longer than the rest. “He’s sorry,” Minho whispered as he held Seungmin to his chest. When Seungmin’s body turned rigid, Minho continued: “Talk to him. He’s a lot more sensitive than he looks.”

“I don’t care,” Seungmin whispered through clenched teeth. “I don’t care, Minho.”

Minho sighed and let go, soothing Seungmin’s bedhead. “We both know that’s a lie, Minnie.”

Seungmin pushed away from him and walked out to Chan’s car. He pretended he didn’t see the red under Chan’s eyes. He pretended like he didn’t hear the scratchiness in Chan’s voice when he asked if Seungmin was ready to leave. He looked out the window and didn’t respond. Chan drove them home in absolute silence.

Seungmin locked himself in his room as soon as they got back. He knew Chan had a way to get in anyway, but this way it’d be harder. This way, Chan would have to know he was crossing Seungmin’s boundaries in order to open the door.

He wanted Chan to hurt. He wanted Chan to beg and grovel for forgiveness. He wanted to hurt Chan himself. He wanted revenge. He wanted to tell Chan everything was okay, only to break his heart the same way Chan had broken his without a second thought. He wanted revenge.

He wanted revenge but his body felt like it weighed ten tons. He could barely move his hand up to his face to wipe his tears. He felt superglued to his bed, every inch of his skin sticking to the sheets. He could barely manage to breathe.

Seungmin stared at the clock above his desk and watched the hours tick away. They’d gotten home at noon— it was six in the evening before he had the energy to roll onto his side. He stared out the window, watching the sun set. 

He closed his eyes and felt his energy leave him completely. He’d never been so tired before. He’d never felt pain like this, and the wound in his thigh had needed seventeen stitches.

He begrudgingly got up to do his testosterone shot. It took twice as long as normal, even though he didn’t take a shower to clean himself off— he didn’t have the energy to stand for that long.

It bled. A drop of blood seeped out of the injection site down onto the tissue he had tucked under his thigh, in case of that exact event happening again. He watched more and more blood stream down his leg and was in no rush to clean it up, to cover it with a bandaid, to stop the bleeding.

Once the tissue was soaked enough to stick to his skin, he finally put the bandaid on.

Seungmin fell asleep at some point. He fluttered awake as the bed dipped beside him, and he shot up abruptly but instantly regretted it. His head spun and he felt his chest tighten at the sudden movement, every muscle in his body aching. Soft hands cradled his body, one on his shoulder, another other on his hip. He was slowly guided back down, his head burrowing into his pillow.

“Shh, shh,” Chan cooed, pulling the blankets up over Seungmin’s shoulders, tucking him in.

Seungmin felt sick to his stomach. He shifted to lay on his back, quelling the aching heartburn in his chest. Chan wrapped an arm around Seungmin’s waist, his other hand buried in Seungmin’s hair, as he laid his head on Seungmin’s shoulder.

Seungmin fell back asleep with Chan’s hand stroking his hair. It felt like heaven.

---

Seungmin woke up with the birds to Chan asleep next to him. He curled up into Chan’s side, caressing Chan’s chest. Chan was so soft. Chan was so warm. Chan was everything Seungmin had ever wanted.

But Seungmin could never have him.

He snuck out of bed and into his restroom. He stared at himself in the reflection and didn’t recognize himself. That wasn’t him. He looked hollow. 

He was hollow.

Seungmin had never self-harmed. At least not in the conventional ways. He’d never taken a razor blade to his skin, never attempted, never done anything more than maybe hitting his own head during a meltdown. He had promised himself, and his friends too, that he’d never hurt himself that way. He’d never open that door.

But standing alone in that bathroom, Chan fast asleep in his bed, he needed to do something extreme. He needed to feel something— anything other than the ache in his chest and the numbness under his skin.

Kissing Chan had felt so good, so natural. It had healed wounds Seungmin didn’t know were there. He wasn’t ever going to be able to do it again. He wasn’t ever going to feel Chan’s lips like that again. He couldn’t. Chan had said it: he couldn’t want Seungmin. So Seungmin couldn’t want Chan, either.

Seungmin dropped to the ground and opened the cabinets under the sink. The box of bleach stared back at him. Seungmin picked it up. 

‘POISON! DANGER! CAUSES SEVERE EYE AND SKIN IRRITATION OR BURNS. STRONG OXIDIZER — CONTACT WITH OTHER MATERIAL MAY CAUSE FIRE. HARMFUL IF SWALLOWED,’ the label on the box warned.

Seungmin didn’t want to die that badly. He threw the box away just in case. He didn’t trust himself to feel the same after even one more day of this torture.

He picked up the electric razor and ran his pointer finger across the teeth. He didn’t want to hurt himself. But he needed to do something drastic.

He took the razor without a guard and gave himself an eyebrow slit. Then another on the other eyebrow. Then he took the razor with the lowest guard and ran it down the middle of his scalp.

It took him less than five minutes to shave his entire head. His hair had grown out enough that all the blonde was gone— only a couple centimeters of his golden brown hair left.

He hopped in the shower to wash off the stray pieces of hair and dried off in the tub. There was a knock at the door as soon as Seungmin had put his shirt on.

“What?” Seungmin snapped, wiping the steam off the mirror to check himself out. He looked at least five years older. Maybe this way Chan would want him enough to ignore their problematic dynamic. Seungmin would fuck himself. He looked good. Maybe Chan would fuck him now.

“You okay?” Chan whispered through the door. Seungmin clenched his hand into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut. How fucking dare Chan use that tone with him— the sweet tone he’d use to lull Seungmin to sleep, the tone he’d used in Felix’s closet.

“Just peachy,” Seungmin bit back, opening the door abruptly. Chan almost fell forward onto Seungmin with how heavily he was leaning on the door, but he caught himself before any part of him touched any part of Seungmin. Chan’s mouth fell open as soon as he saw Seungmin’s eyebrows and hair, his eyes going wide. “What?” Seungmin barked and copied the tongue thing Chan always did.

Chan swallowed the lump in his throat. “Wow. You— You look good, Minnie, it—”

“Don’t call me that.” Seungmin brushed past Chan, crawling back into bed. “And I didn’t do it for your praise. Fuck off.” He curled up under the sheet for not even five seconds before Chan pulled the comforter up over Seungmin’s shoulders.

“Okay,” Chan whispered, petting Seungmin’s shaved head. “Class is in an hour.” Deja vu. “Get dressed, and we can pick up a drink on the way.” Didn’t he say that last time?

“Not going,” Seungmin muttered into his pillow. Chan sighed.

“You’re going,” Chan’s voice hardened and Seungmin shivered. He hadn’t heard that tone in weeks— months, maybe. He’d heard it for the first time when he’d first met Chan, in his father’s office. Then, infrequently, for the first month or so when he had been convinced Chan had hated him. “You have an exam today. You’re going.”

“You’re going to make me go to class after you ripped my heart out and threw it off a skyscraper?” Seungmin laughed. “Wonderful.” Chan made a clicking noise with his tongue behind Seungmin.

“Seungmin.” Chan’s voice could cut through steel. “Please. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Well, tough fucking luck, we’re fighting.” Seungmin pulled the comforter over him as far as it could go. “Should’ve thought about that before you kissed me back.”

The bed dipped behind Seungmin and he flinched as Chan rested his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Okay? What more do you want me to say?”

“Just fucking leave me alone. Stop pretending like you care about me.”

“Seungmin, I do care, I’m not pretending—”

“Leave me alone. I’m not listening to you anymore. I should’ve never listened in the first place.”

“So you’re not going to your exam? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to rot away in my bed and die here.”

“Yeah, you’re not fighting me about this.” Chan yanked the blankets off the bed and ignored Seungmin’s yelp. The bed lifted as Chan stood up behind him. “Up. Now. No coffee on the way, not when you’re acting like a child.”

Seungmin felt like crying. He was crying. He buried his face in his pillow as his body shook. “Chan—” His voice cracked.

“Stop.” Chan muttered through gritted teeth. “Stop making me feel like this. This is for the best. Get the fuck up.”

Chan left the room and left Seungmin trembling on the bed.

If I should fall on that day

I only pray, don't fall away from me

Seungmin was scared. Terrified, even. He hadn’t known Chan had that anger in him. Chan had warned him, that day they’d played League— but Seungmin hadn’t realized it could be this bad. It was worse knowing how strong Chan was, too. Knowing Chan was exponentially stronger than everyone who hurt him. Stronger than the man responsible for the scar on his thigh. Stronger than the man in the coffee shop three months ago.

He got out of bed eventually. He expected Chan to show any remorse— maybe to have Seungmin’s iced Americano in the cup holder as soon as he sat in the passenger seat, or at least give him a smile.

When Seungmin opened the car door, Chan didn’t look up from his phone. When Seungmin sat down, Chan didn’t make a sound. When Seungmin closed the door behind him and looked at Chan out of the corner of his eye, Chan set his phone down with a sharp exhale through his nose.

“So nice of you to join me,” Chan hissed, pulling out of the driveway. “Only ten minutes before your class.”

Seungmin froze. He didn’t like this. He really, really didn’t like this.

He’d decided a month ago that he’d rather have Chan be cruel again— but this was too much. He was too scared to move. He was too scared to speak. He was too scared to not do anything, because he could feel the air sour in the car the longer he stayed silent.

Seungmin was beyond grateful he’d chosen a house so close to campus. Chan pulled into the parking lot before he could get another snarky comment in. Seungmin unbuckled his seatbelt and shot out of the car, leaving Chan behind as he walked straight to his class.

Chan came into the lecture hall a minute after Seungmin had settled in and started on his exam. Chan took his seat at the front of the room, his eyes trained on Seungmin for the entire time he struggled with the test in his hands.

Seungmin most definitely failed his exam. But it didn’t matter— nothing mattered anymore. Seungmin couldn’t seem to care about anything.

After watching Seungmin blink through tears for two hours in the classroom, Chan’s glare eased up. When Seungmin turned in the paper, Chan was immediately at his side. He hovered close to Seungmin as he walked back to the car. Seungmin sat in the passenger seat without a word to Chan.

“Seungmin…” Chan whispered once they were both buckled in, before Chan started the car. “Honey, look at m—”

“Don’t act like we’re on good terms.” Seungmin stared down at his hands, picking at his fingernails. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t call me sweet things. Cut it out.”

Twisting the key in the ignition, Chan let out a long sigh, and pulled out of the parking lot. Seungmin watched the trees fly by out the window as they drove through the city.

Once I had wondered what was holdin' up the ground

But I can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down

“Stop acting nice,” Seungmin picked at his food. Chan had made his favorite ramen, a couple extra eggs just to appease him. “Stop acting like you care.”

Chan sat across the island from him, laying his head on the table. “Baby, you know I care.”

“Don’t call me baby,” Seungmin hissed, dropping his chopsticks. He had no appetite.

“Seungmin,” Chan started, making his way over to sit next to Seungmin. “Please, let’s talk.”

“Sure. Let’s talk.” Seungmin pushed his bowl away, looking Chan in the eye. “Why do you care? Because you actually like me? Or because my dad’s paying you?”

Chan looked Seungmin in the eye. “Yeah. ‘Cuz I’m being paid to keep you alive. That’s it.”

Seungmin froze.

What the fuck.

He stood up and threw his chopsticks at Chan, turning to leave immediately.

What the fuck.

“Wait, Seungmin, I obviously didn’t mean—” Chan came after him, reaching for Seungmin’s hand. 

“Leave me alone, asshole.” Seungmin slapped Chan’s hand away. “You’ve made it clear you don’t give a shit about me.”

“Seungmin, that’s not—”

Seungmin stopped in the hallway in front of Chan’s room and looked inside. It was nearly empty. Chan hadn’t brought much when he had moved in. Seungmin saw nothing new in the room since the day they’d arrived. “Leave. Pack your stuff, leave, I never want to see you again. I’ll tell my dad you came onto me, and he’ll get rid of you. You never have to see me again.”

“Seungmin, stop—”

“You stop!” Seungmin shouted, a tear escaping. He was glad his back was to Chan because he knew Chan would make a fuss about it, would coo over him, cup his cheeks and wipe his tears. The thought made Seungmin sick. “What the fuck am I to you?”

“Baby…”

“Do I mean nothing to you? That you can just ignore what we did in that closet? That you can be so rude to me? That you can say all I am to you is a steady income?” Seungmin was babbling, but Chan just took it. “I heard you talking to Minho that night. I know you want me. But apparently nowhere close to how much I want you. So maybe it is better if you leave forever.”

Chan stepped forward, taking Seungmin’s hand into his. Seungmin tried to take his hand away, but Chan just pulled him closer. He was too strong. “Seungmin.” That fucking tone. That sickeningly sweet tone. Seungmin hated that the tone was genuine, that Chan meant it.

“Chan…” Seungmin whispered, staring down at their intertwined hands.

“I love you.”

Seungmin’s face soured. He tried to pull his hand out of Chan’s grasp, but Chan didn’t budge.

“Don’t just walk away,” Chan’s voice cracked. “Don’t leave after I’ve said that, Seungmin.”

“If you don’t let go of my hand, I will never talk to you again,” Seungmin’s voice wavered, his hand trembling in Chan’s grasp. Chan immediately let go, letting Seungmin slip away, back into his bedroom.

Seungmin locked the door behind him. It didn’t do much, considering Chan could easily unlock it— Seungmin wasn’t sure if he had a key, or was just good at lockpicking, but either way, he could get into Seungmin’s room whenever he wanted to. But again, by locking the door, Chan would know he was doing something wrong if he came into Seungmin’s room.

---

It happened before he even knew what was happening.

Every other inch of his skin was on fire, and the other half was freezing. The muscles under his skin tensed and his bones felt like they were going to snap under the pressure of them tightening. The tears streaming down his left cheek burned his skin, and the tears down his right cheek felt like they were made of ice.

Chan had told Seungmin that he loved him. He couldn’t mean it. Maybe it was even worse if he did mean it.

Yeah, it was way worse if Chan meant it. Because Seungmin still had no idea how he wanted Chan to treat him— he had no idea what he felt about Chan to begin with. He’d never had someone love him like that. He didn’t know how to be loved.

It had never been this bad. His headache had turned into a migraine, his arms were burning from him punching his mattress, his throat ached from sobbing and screaming into the pillow, his ears were ringing from the overwhelming pressure in his head.

He kept an eye on the clock as his body shut down. Two hours since he’d locked the door. Two hours of absolute torture. It was nine in the evening.

Seungmin let out a loud cry as a sharp pain shot through his head and he fell face first into his pillows. He sobbed, balling his hand into a fist and hitting the back of his head— over, and over, and over, and over. Surely one of these hits would make it stop. Surely one of these hits would stop the pain.

Right as he was about to hit himself for what felt like the hundredth time, his hand was held back. His wrist burned under the firm grasp on his skin and he sobbed harder into his pillow.

“Seungmin, sweetheart,” Chan’s voice cut through the ringing in Seungmin’s ears, a calm in the storm. Chan guided Seungmin to lay on his back, soothing his forehead.

“Chan—” Seungmin started, his voice scratchy and weak.

Chan pressed his lips to Seungmin’s forehead and, instantly, the migraine eased. It didn’t go away, not fully— but Seungmin could finally open his eyes. He opened them to find Chan hovering over him, Chan’s eyes red, his skin splotchy under his eyelashes. Seungmin’s heart ached for a moment before Chan pressed his lips to both of Seungmin’s cheeks.

Chan cupped Seungmin’s face and wiped his tears away, fighting back his own. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel this way.”

Every touch of Chan’s fingers on his face healed wounds he hadn’t even known were there.

“I’m so sorry,” Chan continued. “For everything. For being a dick from day one, and then saying that on the balcony, and then being so rude today. You don’t deserve that. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby, you have no idea.”

Seungmin hiccuped, pulling on Chan’s shirt hard enough to tear the fabric. Chan let himself be pulled down. “Why come in here now? Why wait two hours?”

Chan buried his face in Seungmin’s shoulder and held him tight. “You locked your door and I figured you wanted time alone. I didn’t want to overstep or bother you. Then… It’d been an hour, and you were still crying, and I could tell it was worse than before.”

Chan paused, as if to figure out if he should say more– if he was allowed to say more. “And…?” Seungmin whispered.

“And I called Minho,” Chan breathed out, lifting up to look Seungmin in the eye. “He told me. That you, um,” he trailed off, scanning Seungmin’s face, studying it. “That you’re…”

“Autistic?” Seungmin finished his thought. “That it was probably a meltdown?”

Chan nodded, cradling Seungmin’s cheek with his hand. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know. It took like half an hour for me to convince Minho to tell me— he really didn’t want to be the one to tell me, when you hadn’t yet.”

“It’s okay,” Seungmin whispered. “I don’t mind. I kinda thought you knew—” he stopped himself, then laughed. “Actually, no. You didn’t know I was trans until you saw physical proof, so I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Chan laughed and pinched Seungmin’s cheek. “Brat.”

“I hate you,” Seungmin huffed. Chan nodded, kissing Seungmin’s neck.

“I know. You’re allowed to.” Chan pulled out of Seungmin’s neck and cupped his face, wiping the few tears that escaped.

“I hate you so much,” Seungmin let out a shaky breath as his tears stopped.

“I know, baby.”

“I hate yo—”

Chan pressed his lips to Seungmin’s and they both melted into the kiss. The second Seungmin felt Chan’s lips on his, the tears started flowing again. Chan pulled away enough to kiss away Seungmin’s tears, rubbing circles into his cheeks.

“I love you so much,” Chan whispered. “Do you have any idea how scared I was? How scared I still am? I’ve never loved anyone this much. I’m so scared of your dad, and even you, a little. I’ve never felt this before. I’m so scared of losing you.”

“Chan…” Seungmin sobbed, tears streaming down Chan’s fingers. “I…” Seungmin couldn’t say it— ‘love.’ He couldn’t. He didn’t know what that was. He’d never been loved like that. He didn’t know if he was capable of loving someone like that. “I need you.” 

“I need you, too, Minnie,” Chan kissed Seungmin again. 

Seungmin gasped for air after a minute. “I’m sorry.” Chan’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry I can’t say it back,” Seungmin clarified, chewing his bottom lip as he stared down Chan’s mouth. Chan’s lips curled into a smile.

“It’s okay.” Chan kissed Seungmin’s nose. “I understand. Please don’t force yourself to say it, I don’t mind, okay?” Seungmin nodded, staring up into Chan’s eyes.

“I’m scared,” Seungmin whispered, eyes falling to Chan’s lips. “I’m scared I’m not… enough?” Chan’s eyebrows furrowed.

“No, baby, you’re more than enoug—”

“You don’t get it, Chan,” Seungmin interrupted. “I’m so much younger than you. I don’t know how to do most things. I don’t even know how to drive. I barely know how to cook anything. I can’t even drink yet. I’m nothing like Minho.”

Chan nodded slowly, cupping Seungmin’s chin between his hand and his thumb to tilt it up. “Baby, you want me to be honest?”

Seungmin nodded.

“I don’t want you to be like Minho,” Chan started, pressing his lips to Seungmin’s in a chaste kiss. “I’d hate that, actually. It didn’t work between us, it was just the one night. He’d had a bad breakup and needed someone to fuck him into the mattress, and I was the only one available.”

Seungmin laughed, his face burning red. “Ew, gross,” Seungmin swatted Chan away as he tried to kiss Seungmin again.

“I’m not done, pup,” Chan whispered against Seungmin’s cheek, playfully biting it. Seungmin’s stomach fluttered at the pet name. “Look, he’s not my type. Nobody’s ever been my type, really, and that’s why it hasn’t worked with anyone before. That’s why I’m thirty–six and have no prospects for marriage.”

Seungmin’s eyes bulged out of his head as Chan pulled away. “You’re— you’re thirty–fucking–six?!”

Chan beamed down at Seungmin, ruffling his hair. “Mhm. What, is my skincare routine working?”

Seungmin felt like he was going to explode with how fast his heart was beating. “You’re lying. You’ve got to be lying.” He struggled to sit up with Chan on top of him, but Chan let up so Seungmin could sit upright. “I thought you were Minho’s age? He’s like twenty… eight? I think?”

Chan smiled, his dimples appearing. “I’m Minho’s hyung too, baby,” he cooed, sitting closer to Seungmin. “I’m quite a bit older than him, too.”

Seungmin bit his bottom lip, sitting closer, nearly on top of Chan. “Then you’re, what… somewhere between sixteen and fifteen years older than me?”

Chan placed his hands on Seungmin’s hips and pulled him onto his lap, smiling up at him. “Mm, around that range. Why? Does that get your panties soaked?”

Seungmin groaned, hitting Chan’s chest weakly. “Gross, yuck, don’t say that,” he protested, pressing his fist into the space between Chan’s pecs. “I thought you were only a couple years older. Not almost twice my age.” Chan rolled his eyes and pulled Seungmin closer, their chests almost fully flush against one another.

“Don’t say I’m twice your age. I’m far from it.” Chan looked up at Seungmin, lifting his hand to trace Seungmin’s lips. “But you don’t mind it? Or at least, it doesn’t bother you too much?”

Seungmin shook his head, letting his lips fall open under Chan’s thumb. “No. In fact, I’d prefer if you were even older. My dad’s age, maybe. Then you could be my real dadd—”

Chan pressed his hand up under Seungmin’s jaw to shut him up. “Behave. And don’t say that.”

Seungmin pouted. Once Chan eased up, he argued back: “Why? I thought you liked being called daddy?” Chan pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, narrowing his eyes up at Seungmin.

“Don’t call me that. Not yet, at least. Okay?”

“Fine,” Seungmin gave up, leaning down to press his lips to Chan’s, just for a moment. Chan flipped them over, pressing Seungmin into the bed, slipping his tongue into Seungmin’s mouth. “Chan—”

“Shh,” Chan whispered into the kiss, licking Seungmin’s tongue, making him moan into Chan’s mouth.

Seungmin had never felt anything like it. Just minutes ago, he’d been having the worst meltdown of his life, now he had the hottest man in the world’s tongue in his mouth. What the hell was his life?

He let Chan lick all around the inside of his mouth, letting his lips fall open. He closed his eyes and let himself feel it all— Chan’s tongue in his mouth, Chan’s hand on his cheek, Chan’s hand on his hip, Chan’s thighs on either side of his body, Chan’s chest against his own. He’d never felt so warm in his life, and for once, he liked it. He liked the feeling of being too warm in his own skin, because it was Chan’s warmth. It was Chan.

“Chan,” Seungmin whispered at the first opportunity, when Chan pulled away to breathe. “Need you, please, need your coc—”

“Patience, baby,” Chan whispered, nibbling on Seungmin’s bottom lip. “I’m not fucking you.” Seungmin whined.

“Why not? Please? I want it so bad.” Seungmin pouted up at Chan. He felt helpless under Chan’s body like that.

“I won’t.” Chan hovered over him, then sat up to give Seungmin room. “I’m not going to fuck you now. Especially when it’d be your first time.” Seungmin froze.

“How… How do you know it’d be my first time?” Chan rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere other than Seungmin’s eyes.

“Minho told me. He told me a lot about you. He wanted me to be careful with you.” Seungmin sat up, staring down at the mattress, his mind racing.

Seungmin lifted his head and nuzzled his nose against Chan’s. “I forgive you.” 

Chan visibly melted. “You really shouldn’t,” Chan sighed. “I was a cunt to you.” Seungmin kissed Chan’s nose.

“ My cunt.” Chan laughed, scrunching up his nose.

“Seriously, though.” Chan kissed Seungmin’s lips softly again, letting his own lips linger a little too long. “I’ve got to make it up to you first. Don’t say you forgive me yet, yeah? Take advantage of my guilt.”

Seungmin hummed, nuzzling his face into Chan’s chest. “If you feel so guilty, fuck me to make up for it.” Chan groaned, pinching Seungmin’s ear.

“No,” Chan scolded. “Baby steps.” Seungmin whined.

“So you wouldn’t let me suck your dick right now.”

Chan froze. Seungmin's hand on Chan’s chest felt his heart simultaneously stopping and also running in a Formula One race.

“N–No.” Chan lied.

“Your loss,” Seungmin whispered and pulled Chan down next to him. He wrapped his body around Chan, his leg draped over Chan’s stomach, his head on Chan’s shoulder.

“Get some rest, yeah?” Chan whispered, pressing a kiss to Seungmin’s forehead. “We’ll talk more in the morning.” Seungmin nodded, burying his face in Chan’s neck.

Chan rubbed his buzzed head and Seungmin fell asleep faster than he’d ever slept in his life.

And though I burn, how could I fall

When I am lifted by every word you say to me?

Notes:

”i, carrion” — hozier

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 6: eat your young

Notes:

chapter warnings:: none! ehe (at least i don’t think.) fluffy fluff

I'm starvin', darlin', let me put my lips to somethin'

Let me wrap my teeth around the world

“It’s a horrible idea.” Seungmin pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. “I’m not going.”

“Come on, Minnie~” Felix sang, resting his head on Seungmin’s shoulder. “You’ll enjoy it, I prommy.” 

Hyunjin laid his head on Seungmin’s other shoulder. “Please?” Hyunjin pleaded, patting Seungmin’s knee. “We’ll be there the whole time.”

Seungmin groaned, leaning his head forward to rest on his knees. “That’s not the problem,” Seungmin whispered, just loud enough for only the boys on the couch to hear. “I don’t want to go to a club.” Hyunjin and Felix cuddled into Seungmin at the same time— like their minds were one.

They were one when convincing Seungmin to do things he’d rather die than do.

“Minho knows the bartender.” Hyunjin ruffled Seungmin’s hair. “Free drinks all night.”

“He does?” Felix lifted his head. “How old is he? Is he cute? Is he single? Does he like men?” 

Hyunjin laughed, reaching behind Seungmin to flick Felix’s forehead. “He’s 28, I think?” Hyunjin hummed, nuzzling back into Seungmin’s shoulder. “Minho’s age? He’s pretty cute, more of a gym rat than anything. Very single. And I hope he likes men, he’s the bartender at a gay club.”

“A gay club?” Seungmin’s voice hitched. “Absolutely not.”

They didn’t know. They couldn’t know, right? Hyunjin and Felix couldn’t know. Seungmin hadn’t told a soul about him and Chan yet— about whatever the two of them were. His ears felt like they were on fire.

“It could be fun, Minnie,” Chan said. He didn’t look up from his laptop, sitting across from the three on the recliner he had bought with his own money. He had refused to use Seungmin’s card (or, Seungmin’s dad’s)— Seungmin’s jaw had dropped when he had looked up the chair online. He had never seen so many zeroes, and that was saying a lot . “Going to a club, I mean. Could loosen you up.”

Seungmin lifted his head and glared at Chan. Seungmin wanted to kill him. Seungmin wanted to die. He wanted all of the above— and not to go to a club. He didn’t want to be ogled by random gay men. Just Chan.

“I’m not gay.” Seungmin let his head fall back onto his knees. He could see Chan’s smirk without having to lift his head.

He was only lying to Felix and Hyunjin; no longer to himself. He didn’t need to lie to them, not really. They were both gay. They’d understand. But Seungmin was so used to being the token straight friend— he didn’t want to give up the fun dynamic they’d established. It had worked for so many years. Seungmin wasn’t going to be the one to end things.

“You don’t have to be gay to go to a gay club.” Felix poked Seungmin’s cheek. “If you dress like you always dress, nobody will approach you anyways.” Seungmin’s head shot up, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey!” Seungmin scoffed. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hyunjin poked his other cheek and Seungmin snapped his head to the side, pretending to bite his finger. “Stop. It’s my birthday today. Don’t be mean to me.”

“Don’t be mean to him,” Chan echoed, eyes still focused on his laptop.

“We’re not being mean…” Hyunjin trailed off, nuzzling into Seungmin’s shoulder. “We’ll give you a makeover for the club, Minnie. It’ll be fun.”

Seungmin chewed his lip and glanced up at Chan. Chan was looking back with the softest smile. “Maybe,” Seungmin mused, sat with the idea, stared at Chan’s smile. Chan would have to go with him. He wouldn’t let anyone hit on Seungmin. It could be nice. He could cling as close to Chan as he wanted and nobody would look twice.

He’d have to tell Hyunjin and Felix first, of course. Then Jisung and Minho later on. He wasn’t dating Chan, but they had… they had kissed. They had cuddled. Chan had confessed his undying love to Seungmin. Seungmin had sat in Chan’s lap more times in the past week than he’d ever sat in anyone’s lap in his life.

He should probably tell them before things got more serious. He knew Felix would probably kill him if he waited to tell him anything until Chan fucked him. Hyunjin would do something extreme if Seungmin had his first time with a man without mentioning he liked men. He didn’t even want to imagine how Minho and Jisung would respond. Seungmin didn’t want to line Minho’s pockets any more than he already had with all the bets he had made at Seungmin’s expense.

“Minnie.” Chan’s voice brought Seungmin back to reality. “Come with me for a second.” Chan closed his laptop and set it on his chair as he stood up. He held his hand out to Seungmin and waited for Hyunjin and Felix to move away to pull Seungmin up to his feet once he was free.

Seungmin let himself be pulled into the kitchen— just far enough that Hyunjin and Felix couldn’t hear. He held Chan’s wrist, letting Chan push him up against the kitchen island. Chan smiled, picking Seungmin up effortlessly. Seungmin held back a yelp as Chan stood between his thighs, hands on Seungmin’s hips.

“I’ll make you a deal, yeah?” Chan let his fingers dance under Seungmin’s shirt, ghosting over the waistband of his briefs. Seungmin’s head turned to mush at the feeling of Chan’s hands on his skin. “First. Do you really not want to go to the club?”

Seungmin just blinked in response, staring down at Chan. His mind was blank. “I want to,” he responded, finally piecing together a sentence. “You… you’d come, right?” Chan smiled, leaning in close to kiss Seungmin’s cheek. Seungmin’s eyes shot open wide, glancing Hyunjin and Felix’s way, making sure their backs were still to the kitchen. Once he decided the coast was clear, he turned back to Chan right as he was responding.

“Of course.” Chan pressed a kiss to Seungmin’s lips, then whispered against them: “I’m never leaving your side, little one.” 

Seungmin flushed, burying his face in Chan’s neck. “So what’s the deal?” Seungmin whispered into Chan’s shoulder, locking his arms around Chan’s torso.

“If you let your friends doll you up, go to the club, and have the time of your life…” Chan nuzzled his nose into the side of Seungmin’s head, lips ghosting his ear. “I’ll let you get me off when we get back.”

Seungmin felt his body ignite from between his legs. “Are you joking?” Seungmin’s voice hitched. Chan chuckled into Seungmin’s ear, kissing his earlobe.

“I’m not joking.” Chan pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to Seungmin’s lips. “So? Good deal or not?”

“I’m wet, you asshole,” Seungmin groaned, letting his face fall into Chan’s shoulder. Chan moved his hands to Seungmin’s back, under his shirt, tracing the waistband of his underwear.

“Need daddy to help you?” Chan let his thumb slip under Seungmin’s briefs, only slightly.

Seungmin’s breath hitched. “I hate you.”

“You’re the one who started dripping at the idea of getting me off, sweetheart,” Chan whispered and pressed a kiss to Seungmin’s nose. “So? Club tonight?”

Seungmin glared at Chan, their noses bumping against one another’s. All Seungmin could see was Chan’s eyes. Those beautiful, deep, brown eyes. “Fine,” Seungmin gave in. “Are you really going to leave me alone after teasing me like that?” he whispered in the most whiny voice he could muster. Chan pressed his lips to Seungmin’s and pulled back, smoothing Seungmin’s shirt back down.

“Yep,” Chan patted Seungmin’s thigh, dangerously close to where he desperately needed Chan’s hand. “Good luck, pup.”

---

Felix and Hyunjin were beyond ecstatic when Seungmin returned and told them that he’d go to the club with them— but on one condition: that Chan would have a say in his outfit.

“You’re seriously going to let him choose what you wear?” Hyunjin huffed, sorting out his makeup on Seungmin’s bed. “He’s just your bodyguard. He doesn’t control you.”

“I know, I know.” Seungmin nodded and sat against his headboard. “It’s just… He helped me pick out some new clothes a while ago. I think he had an idea of what pieces went with each other. And you guys know I’m not too good with fashion myself.”

Felix giggled under his breath, taking out a stick of eyeliner. “That is not news to us, nope.” Seungmin reached forward and flicked Felix’s forehead; Felix jumped forward and tackled Seungmin into the bed. He laughed and pretended to fight back, but just let Felix tickle away at his sides. Seungmin wasn’t too ticklish, but he liked to indulge Felix whenever he could.

“Okay, alright, get off Minnie so we can get to work,” Hyunjin hissed. “We need to be at the club in like two hours.” Felix groaned and fell onto the bed next to Seungmin, glaring up at Hyunjin.

“Why so early? It’s not even seven yet,” Felix complained. He sat up, though— rummaging through Hyunjin’s pile. “We shouldn’t pick out makeup before we know what he’s going to wear.”

“Good point,” Hyunjin agreed. “Seungmin, go get Chan, ‘kay?”

Seungmin tried his best to contain his excitement as he got out of bed to go find Chan. It hadn’t been too long since the three of them had retreated to Seungmin’s bedroom, but he wasn’t used to going even five minutes without Chan.

He found Chan in the kitchen. Chan was making coffee: letting the water drip through the filter, pouring more around it as the muddied water went through fully. Seungmin’s steps slowed as he reached the room.

“Why are you making coffee?” Seungmin asked, confused. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“Why do you think?” Chan answered without looking up. “For you. For tomorrow morning.”

Seungmin pretended like that wasn’t one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him, and chose to tease Chan instead: “Oh, you want to fuck me so bad, it makes you look silly.”

Chan smirked up at Seungmin, his head still tilted down to watch the coffee pour. He looked up at Seungmin through his eyelashes. “I try to contain the desire, but I think you see right through me, don’t you?”

Seungmin’s heart jumped and skipped a couple beats. Once his breathing started up again at a steady pace, he cleared his throat. Chan was too much of a tease sometimes. “Anyway,” Seungmin muttered. “You need to come pick out an outfit for me. They said they can’t do my makeup without knowing what I’m wearing first.”

Chan set the water pitcher down and crossed the kitchen to stand in front of Seungmin. “Okay, pup.” He placed his hands on Seungmin’s waist and leaned down, kissing his forehead. “I’ll meet you in there, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Seungmin whispered. Looked down into Chan’s eyes. Leaned forward and kissed Chan’s lips.

Chan melted into the kiss. He was always so confident, so strong, so unwavering. But with Seungmin’s lips on his, he turned to mush. His hands on Seungmin’s hips wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Chan’s tongue ran across Seungmin’s bottom lip, dipping inside his mouth to tease at Seungmin’s tongue.

He pulled away too soon. Seungmin chased after his lips and Chan pressed his palm to Seungmin’s mouth. “Go.” There was a weight in Chan’s voice that Seungmin didn’t hear often.

Chan was flustered. If they kissed any longer, there was no telling when they’d be able to break apart again.

Seungmin pouted, but complied. He kissed Chan’s palm and slipped out of his hold, making his way back to his bedroom.

“Is he coming?” Hyunjin asked as soon as Seungmin stepped back into the room. Felix and Hyunjin had set aside some of the clothes from his closet, their choices for Chan to pick from.

“Yeah, he’ll be here in a second, I think,” Seungmin responded. He opened his closet and rummaged through the clothes, many of which he hadn’t worn before. Seungmin pulled out the mesh shirt he had tried to wear to Felix and Jisung’s party, when Chan had scolded him and had told him to wear something else. Chan had been the one to pick the shirt out for Seungmin— why Chan had told Seungmin he couldn’t wear it was a mystery to him.

“Ooh, slutty,” Felix hummed, appearing behind him. Seungmin nearly jumped out of his own skin as Felix took the shirt into his own hands. “My god, this would look good with your scars. Please wear this.”

Seungmin flushed. He had never shown his scars in public. Had never let them be visible outside of his own home. But he had purposefully skipped a good portion of the scar care— because he loved the way they looked. He wasn’t insecure about being trans and knew he’d be safe if he wore it; Chan would be there.

“Oh, damn,” Hyunjin squeezed between Seungmin and Felix, ogling the shirt. “I have a skirt that would work perfectly with this. I can run home real quick.”

Seungmin chewed his lip. “I… I don’t know. I don’t think I’d want to wear a skirt.”

“Shit, sorry,” Hyunjin apologized and hugged Seungmin from the side. “My bad.”

Seungmin squeezed Hyunjin back. “It’s okay. I just think it will take some time for me to feel comfortable wearing anything that femme.” Hyunjin nodded, pressed his lips to Seungmin’s temple.

“Take all the time you need.”

Felix slipped away from them and went through the makeup. When Chan stepped into the room, Hyunjin’s arms were still around Seungmin, his lips to Seungmin’s forehead. Chan cleared his throat.

“Hi?” Chan smiled, leaning against the doorframe.

Seungmin shot out of Hyunjin’s hold immediately— Hyunjin whined, complaining: “Hey… rude.” Hyunjin ruffled Seungmin’s hair and joined Felix at his pile of makeup. Seungmin slowly met Chan’s gaze, shy. Chan had his head tilted down, looking through his eyelashes, his eyes focused on Seungmin’s.

“Should I come back?” Chan raised an eyebrow, nodding his head towards Hyunjin. “Do you guys need to make out for a bit?”

“Shut up,” Seungmin hissed. Chan raised both of his eyebrows, mouthed ‘make me,’ and smiled wide when Seungmin visibly shuddered.

Chan made his way over to the bed, picking through the articles of clothing. Seungmin stood between him and Felix/Hyunjin— held his breath as Chan wrapped his arm around his waist. “This one is cute,” Chan pinched the fabric of the mesh shirt between his fingers. “Would you feel comfortable wearing this, baby?”

Seungmin felt like he was going to die. He could feel Hyunjin and Felix’s eyes boring holes into him without even having to look that way. Was Chan doing this on purpose? “Y–Yeah. I can wear that.”

Chan squeezed Seungmin’s hip, then pulled away. “Just find some shorts to go with it, not too short. I trust you.”

Seungmin was left reeling, head light and heart heavy. Fuck. He didn’t make it two seconds after Chan closed the door behind him before Felix and Hyunjin were all over him.

“What the fuck was that?” Hyunjin’s jaw dropped as far as it could.

“Seungmin, do you have something to tell us?” Felix turned Seungmin to face them, shook him by the shoulders. “Seungmin, are you fucking your bodyguard?” Seungmin’s face flushed, burning red.

“Holy shit. Seungmin’s fucking his bodyguard.” Hyunjin cackled. “Good job. He’s so hot.”

“I know, fuck, I want him,” Felix complained. “Guess we’ll have to share now, Minnie.”

“I’m not sharing.” Seungmin glared. “And I’m not fucking him. Well,” Seungmin paused. “Not yet.”

“How old is he?” Felix hummed, shaking Seungmin by his shoulders again. “Please. I gotta know.”

“He’s, uhm,” Seungmin hesitated again. “Thirty–six? I think?”

Felix groaned. It was just barely a moan. “Fuck. Are you sure you won’t share with me?”

“I’m sure!” Seungmin exclaimed, pushing away from Felix’s hands. “You can get anyone you want. Let me have him.”

“So you have him?” Hyunjin sat on the bed, reeling. “What is he to you?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin confessed. “I… I don’t know what we are. I’m too scared to ask.”

Felix and Hyunjin shared a look. Seungmin had never felt so self-conscious in his life as Felix pulled away. Felix pushed Hyunjin’s makeup out of the way and sat next to him. “Seungmin. Sit down.”

Seungmin pulled his desk chair out and sat in front of his friends. It was probably a good thing that Minho and Jisung weren’t there. Minho had seemed overjoyed that night in Felix’s room at the idea of him dating Chan, and Seungmin did not want to hear more about how he was supposedly Chan’s ideal type. Or maybe he did. Seungmin still couldn’t make up his mind about that.

And Jisung— god, Jisung. Seungmin would never hear the end of it if Jisung found out about him and Chan. He was sure Minho had spoken to Jisung about Chan plenty. The other night, when Seungmin had had his meltdown, and Chan had called Minho— Seungmin was confident Minho had been with Jisung.

He didn’t want to hear any of the “I told you so”–s from any of them, any of the “I figured”–s, any remarks at all. He didn’t want any of his friends' reactions to him coming out. He wanted them to all be indifferent.

“Are you gay, Seungmin?” Hyunjin asked from the edge of the bed. Felix hit the back of his head.

“Bro, shut up,” Felix hissed. He turned to Seungmin and reached out his hand to hold Seungmin’s knee. Seungmin’s leg stiffened under Felix’s touch. “Minnie, look at me.”

Seungmin forced himself to look up at Felix. His heart ached at the sight of his friend’s worried expression. The last thing he wanted was to worry anyone.

“Does he treat you well?” Felix asked, voice quiet. “Because, you know,” Felix paused. “The last time you spoke to me about him was when I brought your T. And you did not seem fond of him.”

“Things have changed,” Seungmin clarified. “A lot. I really like him. And he’s so sweet, always.”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at him. “Seungmin…” Hyunjin spoke slowly. “Are you sure he’s sweet out of the goodness of his own heart? Or does he want something from you?”

Seungmin couldn’t respond. Not because what Hyunjin said was true— not by any means. He knew Chan loved him. He knew that for a fact. Chan wouldn’t lie to him. And even if Chan did lie, his eyes would tell the truth. And Chan’s eyes only made Seungmin feel loved.

“I hate that you guys don’t trust me,” was what Seungmin finally managed to respond with. His eyes were trained on the space between his friends. He couldn’t look them in the eye. “Do you not believe me? Do you think I don’t look out for myself? Do you think I can’t tell when people want to do me harm?”

“Minnie,” Hyunjin sighed, “that’s not—”

“No,” Seungmin interrupted. “I’m serious. I’ve had enough.” Hyunjin shut up. Felix chewed on his bottom lip and waited for Seungmin to continue. “I’m not a kid anymore. You guys don’t need to look after me like you used to.”

“Minnie,” Felix started and squeezed Seungmin’s knee. He had forgotten Felix’s hand was there. “I trust you. I know you can look after yourself. If you say he’s good to you, I trust you. It was just quick, that’s all.”

Chan was so good to him. Chan loved him more than anyone ever had. It wasn’t like Seungmin had really dated anyone— but he had Felix. He had Hyunjin. He had Jisung and Minho. They all loved him.

But even with all of their love combined, it wouldn’t come close to the look Seungmin had seen in Chan’s eyes even just fifteen minutes prior.

“He told me he loved me,” Seungmin blurted out.

He watched in real time as a flurry of emotions ran across his friends’ faces. Shock, doubt, confusion, bewilderment— slowly, yet surely, they both smiled.

Hyunjin recovered first. “Oh,” Hyunjin coughed out. He ran a hand through his hair, blinking hard. “So he’s serious, then. About you.”

“He is,” Seungmin confirmed.

Felix fell back onto the bed, groaning into his hands over his mouth. “I’m so fucking jealous!” He screamed, voice muffled by his hands. “I want a boyfriend!”

“You’ll have one one day, Lixie, I promise,” Hyunjin cooed as he patted Felix’s stomach. “You’re next.”

Seungmin laughed and brought his knees up to his chest, hugging them. He was beyond grateful that Felix and Hyunjin didn’t dwell too long— that they didn’t take Seungmin’s arguing to heart.

He watched his friends bicker and play-fight on his bed and realized that his feelings for Chan were far greater than he had imagined. He’d never liked anyone like this. He’d never fought Felix, or Hyunjin, or anyone , over someone like this.

It couldn’t be love. Seungmin hadn’t known Chan for long enough for it to be love. He didn’t love easily, or often. He only loved Felix, Hyunjin, Jisung— Minho, too, if he was pushing it. He didn’t love Chan. Not yet, at least. He figured he would eventually. He’d know when he did love Chan, surely.

Hyunjin and Felix finished whatever argument they were having and turned to Seungmin, eyes glittering. Seungmin sighed. He knew what that meant.

He let them fuss over him and doll him up, but they didn’t let Seungmin see any of it. He hadn’t had his makeup done often; maybe once, when he was way younger, when he hadn’t known who he was yet— but he’d blocked most of his life from before he’d transitioned out. Seungmin was confident his friends were going to make him look way better than he’d looked then.

“Hyune,” Felix whispered behind him. Hyunjin was busy styling Seungmin’s slightly-grown buzzcut. Seungmin wondered if there was even enough length to work with.

“Yeah, Lixie?” Hyunjin hummed, smoothing over Seungmin’s eyebrow. Hyunjin narrowed his eyes slightly. “I need to touch up your eyebrow slits. Is that okay?” Seungmin nodded. He’d been planning to touch them up himself, anyways. He’d gladly let Hyunjin do it for him.

“Hyune!” Felix hissed. Hyunjin snapped his head towards him, nodding, to tell him to continue. Seungmin couldn’t see Felix, but he could hear the smile on Felix’s face as he spoke: “Should we let Chan see before we show Minnie?”

Seungmin froze. Oh . He’d forgotten Chan was going to see him like this.

Looking down, Seungmin flushed red. They had put him in the mesh shirt and Seungmin’s most comfortable shorts. He was going to feel uncomfortable wearing the web of fabric over his chest, so he chose to at least be comfortable from his waist down. But even the comfort of his shorts didn’t ease the anxiety of the concept of being perceived like this. He didn’t even know what his face looked like. 

“Absolutely.” Hyunjin placed his hands on Seungmin’s cheeks. Seungmin worried for a moment that Hyunjin’s hands would smudge his makeup, but quickly shook off the concern— Hyunjin knew best. He wore makeup so often. He’d know the limits of the makeup on Seungmin’s skin. “Let’s go get Chan, Lixie.”

“No—!” Seungmin exclaimed, stepping back. Hyunjin pulled his hands back and crossed his arms over his chest as Felix hugged him from behind.

“Why not?” Felix asked, resting his chin on Seungmin’s shoulder. “He’s gonna see you anyways.”

“I know, I know,” Seungmin sighed. “But I don’t want him to see me like this for the first time in a room with both of you. I don’t trust him to not say something weird.”

“Ooooooh,” Hyunjin hummed. “Now I so want to hear what he has to say.”

“Absolutely not.” Seungmin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Please. Trust me on this.”

“Nah, majority rule.” Felix squeezed Seungmin’s waist. “I wanna hear too. Hyune, go get him.”

Hyunjin saluted. “On it!”

Seungmin tried to step out of Felix’s grasp to stop Hyunjin, but Hyunjin was too fast, and Felix’s hold on him was too tight. “Guys…” Seungmin groaned, giving up. “Listen to me…”

Felix rocked Seungmin side to side and hugged him tighter. “Are you actually upset?” Felix asked softly— asking genuinely. “I can go stop Hyunjin if you’re serious.”

Seungmin chewed on his bottom lip and stared out his open bedroom door, across the hallway, directly at Chan’s door. He couldn’t even respond before he watched in thinly veiled horror as Hyunjin slipped back into his bedroom, Chan only steps behind.

When Chan saw Seungmin, he froze. Seungmin stayed sitting on the edge of his bed, staring up at Chan, studying Chan’s face like it was life–or–death. Chan’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, lips parted to let out a shaky breath.

“Oh,” Chan could barely get out. “Seungmin. You look…” Chan seemed to get stuck, unable to find the words to continue.

Hyunjin giggled, tugging Felix by his sleeve. “C’mon, Lixie, let’s give them a minute.”

“Ah—” Felix hissed and let Hyunjin tug him away. “Good thinking.”

They closed the door behind them and left Seungmin alone with Chan, staring up at him with a growing fear in his chest.

“Does it look that bad?” Seungmin asked softly, gently touching his own face. “I haven’t seen it. Did they mess up? I’m sure it’d be easy to take it off—”

“No!” Chan stepped forward and nearly tripped over air. He caught himself and rushed to Seungmin’s side, kneeling down next to him, wrapping an arm around Seungmin’s waist. “Oh, puppy,” Chan cooed. Seungmin held back a whine at the endearment.

“It looks okay?” he asked, insecurity bubbling in his throat.

“Minnie, baby,” Chan whispered, tilting Seungmin’s chin down to see him better. “You look incredible. I don’t know what I’m—” Chan pursed his lips. “I don’t know how to control myself right now. Puppy, you look incredible.”

Seungmin pouted. He cupped Chan’s face with both of his hands and lifted it. Seungmin’s smile grew as Chan melted into his hands and let himself be pulled up. Chan closed his eyes as Seungmin pulled him closer. “Chan,” Seungmin squeezed Chan’s cheeks together. “Open your eyes.”

“Can’t.” Chan squeezed his eyes tighter closed. “Can’t look at you this close right now.”

“Why, da—” Seungmin caught himself. He didn’t want to open that door. Not yet. Calling him ‘daddy’ when he was already this bothered probably wouldn’t end well. “Why, Channie?”

Chan hummed. Nuzzling deeper into Seungmin’s hands, he muttered, “Told you, Minnie. Can’t control myself when you look like this.”

“Look at me.” Seungmin let go of Chan’s face. Chan’s head fell as he wrapped his arms around Seungmin’s waist, resting his chin on his thigh.

“Minnie…” Chan whined into Seungmin’s leg.

He’d never seen Chan like this. Pathetic would be too mean. Eager, maybe. Needy; so, so needy. Seungmin liked it. A little too much, he thought.

“Please look at me, Chan,” Seungmin said, soft.

Chan blinked his eyes open and slowly lifted his head. When Chan’s eyes met his, Seungmin could have sworn he could see Chan holding back tears. Seungmin started to reach out to cup Chan’s face, but Chan immediately stood up and pushed him back onto the bed.

“Chan!” Seungmin cried out in shock. His hands were pinned above his head, wrists crossed. Chan held them both with one hand, face inches away from Seungmin’s.

“I warned you, pup,” Chan whispered. His breath fanned over Seungmin’s lips. “I told you I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Seungmin keened under the attention. He’d kissed Chan plenty, cuddled even more, flirted exponentially more. But this felt different. Chan pushed his knee in between Seungmin’s legs, spreading them, pushing deeper between them. Oh . This was different.

“Fuck,” Seungmin moaned. Chan’s knee dug into him. Seungmin felt himself throb against Chan’s thigh. “Chan—”

“Shh,” Chan whispered, pressing his lips to Seungmin’s to swallow his moans. “Don’t want them walking in, now do we?” he breathed against Seungmin’s open, waiting mouth.

“Don’t tease,” Seungmin whimpered, “if you won’t follow through.”

Chan pressed one last kiss to Seungmin’s lips before fully retreating. He smoothed out his pants, flattening the creases around his knee. “Good point,” Chan hummed. “We’ll continue this later, yeah, puppy?”

Seungmin propped himself up by his elbows on the bed and stared. Chan stared back. “I hate you,” Seungmin groaned and sat up fully. “You keep fucking with me like this. I hate it.”

Chan laughed. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. Remember our deal?”

Oh, did he remember. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. “Yeah,” his voice shook on the exhale. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then just wait.” Chan smiled and ruffled Seungmin’s hair. “I promise I’ll hold up my end of the deal.”

“You better,” Seungmin huffed, shaking his head to make Chan take back his hand. “I’ll be mad if you don’t.”

“I know, pup.” Chan leaned down and kissed Seungmin’s cheek. “I know.”

“Are y’all done?!” Hyunjin shouted through the door, banging onto it. “Jisung and Minho are going to be here any minute!”

“One second!” Seungmin shouted back. He stood up and smoothed out his own shorts, grimacing at the gross wetness underneath them from not even a minute of Chan’s touch. “Fuck.”

“What?” Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, concerned. Seungmin shook his head and made his way to his dresser, fishing out another pair of briefs.

“I have to change because of you, asshole,” Seungmin bit back. Chan stifled a laugh. “Don’t laugh!” Seungmin whined. “It’s your fault!”

Chan raised his hands in defeat and stepped back to give Seungmin space to continue his search. “Sorry! I didn’t think I could get you so turned on so quickly. I’m sorry, puppy.”

Seungmin sighed and stuffed the new pair of underwear into his pocket. “You know how easily you can get to me, Chan,” he said, voice quiet, as he made his way to his bathroom.

“Still,” Chan continued, “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Whatever.” Seungmin glared at Chan— playfully, of course— as he locked the bathroom door behind him.

He cleaned himself up and changed into the new briefs, throwing the soiled pair into the trash can. It was beyond repair.

Seungmin had forgotten about the whole reason why Chan had come into the room in the first place. He remembered when he looked up while washing his hands when a stranger stared back at him through the mirror.

Dark, nearly black eyeliner extending the creases of his eyes. A pale brown eyeshadow on his eyelids, lighter in the middle, darker near the edges. A blinding white highlight in the inner corners of his eyes and on the tip of his nose. Blush all over, stretching from ear to ear across his cheeks and nose. A deep red shade lining his lips, and pink gloss covering every inch of them.

Then there were the gems. Two white jewels, underneath each of his eyes. Seungmin moved his head back and forth and watched them sparkle. Likely costume jewelry. Not actual gems. But still, they glittered just as bright.

Seungmin held back tears. He wasn’t about to ruin the makeup that Hyunjin and Felix had so painstakingly put onto him. But he hadn’t known he could look like this. He hadn’t known it was possible. He didn’t necessarily want it again— to look like this, to wear makeup, to look that pretty. It was a little too much for him; he wasn’t really seeing himself in the mirror. He looked like someone else. But he liked it. He really, really liked it.

He grounded himself and dabbed away the stray tear that had escaped before walking back out into his bedroom. Chan was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching Seungmin as he stepped into view.

“See?” Chan smiled, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t you look incredible?”

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. It looks really good.”

“ You look really good, puppy,” Chan corrected, narrowing his eyes. “It’s all you. You don’t look too different with makeup on. It just highlights your beauty.”

Seungmin laughed. “I look way different!”

“No, you really don’t.” Chan made his way over, putting his hands on Seungmin’s hips, smiling up at him. “You look like you, Seungmin.”

Seungmin stared down at Chan, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re just saying that.”

Chan stood up on his toes and kissed Seungmin’s cheek. “I don’t lie to you, Seungmin. Never.”

Seungmin chased his lips and kissed him, wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders. Chan let him. Chan kissed back, softly, reverently, hands still holding Seungmin’s waist. “I—” Seungmin whispered between kisses, lost in Chan’s lips. Chan pulled back to let him talk, nuzzling his nose against Seungmin’s. “I really like you, Chan.”

Chan chuckled and kissed Seungmin’s nose. “I’m glad. I’d be sad if you still hated me.”

“I don’t think I ever hated you,” Seungmin confessed. Chan pulled away and raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, yes, you did,” Chan contested. “You absolutely did. You hated my guts.”

Seungmin huffed. “Well. To be fair. You got on my nerves purposefully.”

“True,” Chan laughed. “To be fair. I was scared to be nice to you because I already liked you too much.”

Seungmin blinked down at Chan in shock. “W–What?”

Chan blushed— his ears turned bright red, his cheeks flushed. He pulled Seungmin close and buried his face in his neck. “I’ve had a crush on you since the first time I saw you. I thought I had to be mean, to make you hate me. Then maybe my feelings would fade if you were mean back to me. But it just made me like you more when you fought back.”

Seungmin hugged Chan tight, squeezing him in his arms. “So you like when I fight back?” Seungmin joked. Chan groaned into his neck.

“No.” Chan’s voice could cut steel. “No, I like when you’re good for me. You’re just cute when you argue or get mad. Like a puppy barking just to make noise.”

Seungmin sighed. He wasn’t sure when the dog— or, puppy— thing had started. Had it been when Chan had said his ideal type? Seungmin couldn’t remember the exact wording. Something about him being feisty. But Chan hadn’t started calling him ‘puppy’ until way later. He wasn’t complaining, though. As long as Chan didn’t make Seungmin call him ‘master’ or something equally as gross.

He wanted to respond, to fight back, to bark just to make noise if that was what Chan liked so much— but the door swung open right as he opened his mouth. Seungmin jumped out of Chan’s arms in shock. He heard a laugh coming from the hallway.

“No need for that now, right?” Felix giggled. “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seungmin groaned and stepped away from Chan. Chan just smiled and let him back up. “What is it, Felix?”

“Minho and Jisung are here~” Felix sang. “Let’s go!”

With that, he disappeared down the hall. Seungmin looked back to Chan and pulled his lips into a tight line. “Let’s go?” he asked with less than a percent of Felix’s enthusiasm.

Chan breathed out a chuckle and took Seungmin’s hand into his.

“Let’s go.”

Notes:

”eat your young” — hozier

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Chapter 7: damage gets done

Notes:

chapter warnings:: gay bar. drunk people, alcohol use, gross bathroom, attempted assault, yeah we get nsfw with seungmin’s thoughts what about it, drunk people (pt.2), hangover, a whole lot of daddy kink and puppy kink.

All I needed was someone

When the whole wide world felt young

Jisung didn’t say a word. He just stared from the couch— eyes wide, jaw dropped. Seungmin felt like he was going to suffocate. But Minho jumped to the rescue as he nearly sprinted across the room and grabbed Seungmin’s face.

“Oh, holy fuck,” Minho gasped. “You look so good, Minnie, fuck.”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head to shake off Minho’s hands. “Stop, stop. Don’t mess it up.” Minho took his hands back and clapped.

“I’m guessing I have Hyunjin to thank for this?” Minho smiled at Hyunjin, Felix, and Jisung, all sitting on the couch. “Good work, Hyune.”

“I helped too!” Felix pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “The lip gloss is mine.”

“Thank you too, then, Lix,” Minho corrected. He turned back to Seungmin, then shot a smile at Chan. “You’re probably loving this, aren’t you, hyung?”

Seungmin heard Chan chuckle behind him, then felt an arm snake around his waist. He let himself be pulled backwards into Chan’s chest. “He looks good all the time. I love every moment I get with him.”

Everyone, without fail, groaned. Seungmin included. He jabbed his elbow back into Chan’s chest and was met with what felt like a brick wall. Seungmin fought hard to keep his expression neutral as his body ignited from within at the feeling of Chan’s chest against his arm.

“Can you two stop rubbing it in my face? God,” Felix groaned. “I don’t need the constant reminder that I’m the only single one here.” Felix’s head fell back against the couch. “When is it my turn?”

“You’ll find someone at the club, I’m sure of it,” Hyunjin reassured him.

Jisung still hadn’t said a word. His eyes had gone wider when Chan had pulled Seungmin close, and his jaw had snapped shut at Chan’s comment. He stared up at Seungmin with an expression on his face that Seungmin couldn’t read.

He wriggled his way out of Chan’s arms and sat next to Jisung as Hyunjin and Felix bickered. Seungmin nudged his knee against Jisung’s and laughed at how Jisung’s entire body shook at the movement. “Sungie, you okay?”

Jisung was still staring ahead. This time at Chan as Minho pulled him aside. Seungmin watched, too.

They spoke with hushed voices, so quiet that Seungmin couldn’t hear despite being only a couple of feet away. He couldn’t see Minho’s face, but he could see Chan’s. Chan was smiling so, so wide, eyes crinkled into cute little half–moons. His eyes darted to Seungmin for a second, barely there, then away again, before settling on Seungmin for longer. Chan’s smile softened as he made eye contact with Seungmin and winked. Seungmin laughed and looked away.

“When did that happen?” Jisung asked, voice small. Seungmin rested his head on Jisung’s shoulder.

“I kissed him in the closet at your party,” Seungmin started. “Then we fought. You remember. And we fought more when we got home. Then—”

“And you’re just going to forgive him?” Jisung pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them. “After he made you feel like that?”

Seungmin closed his eyes and didn’t move his head from Jisung’s shoulder. “It really fucking sucked. But he just… he was scared. He said he always wanted me. But he was scared the whole time, and even more scared when he realized that I wanted him, too.”

Jisung still hadn’t moved. His biceps bulged as he held his legs closer to his chest. “He made you feel like shit for so long. You were always fighting with him. You were always complaining about him. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a single nice thing about him.”

“I know,” Seungmin said through gritted teeth. “Look, I know. But you don’t know what it’s been like with him. I haven’t shared a lot of the stuff because it’s personal, or I felt embarrassed to let you guys know that I was weak and needed Chan there.”

“Seungmin, you’re not weak, that’s—”

“Hyunjin and Felix already scolded me about this, Jisung.” Seungmin sighed. “I’ve already had to explain myself to them. So I’ll repeat what I said earlier: Do you not trust me? Do you think that I can’t look out for myself?”

Jisung let his legs drop down and he turned on the couch to face Seungmin. “I trust you. I know you know what’s best for you. I just don’t want him to hurt you, Seungmin.”

“He won’t.” Seungmin stared back, trying his very best not to get upset— or at the very least, to not show that he was upset. “You don’t know Chan like I do. He won’t hurt me.”

Jisung stared back, unblinking. “Okay,” he conceded. “I trust you.”

Seungmin hugged him. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like even slightly arguing with his friends. Jisung hugged back and nuzzled his face into the crook of Seungmin’s neck. “I know you’re just looking out for me,” Seungmin whispered into the hug. “And I appreciate that. Thank you. But I promise Chan’s looking out for me, too.”

Jisung tightened his arms around Seungmin’s waist. “I know. I’ll just have to get to know him better, I guess.”

Seungmin pulled away and smiled. “Yeah. I’m sure you can ask Minho about him. I think they’ve known each other way longer than we’ve known each other.”

“What about me?” Minho asked— suddenly standing right in front of them, pulling Seungmin and Jisung apart by their ears. “Are you guys shit–talking me?”

“No!” Seungmin exclaimed, swatting away Minho’s hand. Chan cleared his throat from across the room. Minho let go.

“Minnie’s just saying that you need to tell us more about Chan.” Jisung smiled up at Minho. Minho let go of Jisung’s ear and pinched Jisung’s nose instead.

“Sure,” Minho said. “I’ll tell you and Hyune more in the car on the way.”

“Felix, you’re with me and Seungmin,” Chan piped up. “We won’t all fit in one car.”

Seungmin pouted and turned to the others on the couch. Hyunjin, Felix, and Jisung were all pouting back. “Fine,” Seungmin sighed. “I guess I’ll see you guys there…”

“I guess…” Hyunjin sighed back, getting up. “It feels weird for Seungmin to be the most dolled up of us.”

Seungmin laughed. He looked down at himself, then compared his outfit to the others. Everyone else was wearing their casual clothes: Minho in a gray button–down and slacks, Chan in a tight black t–shirt and jeans, Jisung in a blue long–sleeved shirt and white pants, Felix in full denim and a white shirt under his jacket, Hyunjin in a white striped button–down and black jeans— versus Seungmin in his black mesh t–shirt and black shorts that hung below his knees. He felt simultaneously overdressed and underdressed, with how much skin he was showing.

At least he wasn’t the only one wearing makeup. Felix and Hyunjin were, too— they’d let Seungmin help out with their makeup after they had finished his.

“He looks incredible. But he always does,” Chan said, voice dripping with fondness. Seungmin’s cheeks burned as he smiled, avoiding eye contact from everyone in the room.

“Oh my god, ew…” Felix whined. “Is Chan going to be all cutesy forever now?”

“Let him be, Lixie.” Minho ruffled Felix’s hair. “He hasn’t ever been this in love. It’s nice to see him like this.”

Chan pushed Minho towards the door, herding everyone out. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Chan groaned. “Go. I’ll meet you there.”

“Fine,” Minho huffed. “But I’m telling the kids in my car all about your sex life. They’ll know how much you like to be—” Chan slapped his hand over Minho’s mouth. Seungmin didn’t need to see his face to know that he was glaring.

“I’m going to kill you, I swear,” Chan growled. There was no actual anger in his voice, so Seungmin wasn’t scared by it; if anything, the tone of it ignited a flame deep inside of him. Seungmin took note of it. Wrote it on a piece of paper in his head and locked it away for another time.

Minho must have done something to Chan’s hand with his mouth, because Chan yanked his hand away with a disgusted scoff. “See you there, hyung!” Minho sang, blowing Chan a kiss, and headed out the door with Jisung and Hyunjin close behind.

Chan sighed as he turned back to Seungmin and Felix. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched. If they’d been alone, Seungmin would have jumped him then and there. But Felix was inches away, also watching Chan quell his frustration from across the room. So Seungmin buried his desire deep, deep down; told himself that he’d have the chance later that night, when Chan followed up on his promise. The promise that Seungmin would finally get Chan off for the first time.

“Your boyfriend is so fucking hot, Seungmin,” Felix whispered. Seungmin laughed and made sure Chan wasn’t listening. After he was certain he and Felix were out of earshot, he linked his arm around Felix’s.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Seungmin whispered. “At least not yet. I’m waiting for him to ask me.”

Felix rested his head on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezed his arm. “You can ask him, y’know.”

Seungmin watched as Chan seemed to regain his composure; Chan rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath, and checked his pockets. When he pulled out his keys, he gave Seungmin a smile.

“I can’t,” Seungmin whispered to Felix under his breath. “He’ll say yes without thinking. I need him to think about it and ask me first.”

Chan narrowed his eyes and Seungmin’s heart dropped. Had Chan heard him? Seungmin had said that as quietly as he could. Did Chan have some crazy super–hearing? Seungmin wouldn’t be surprised, in all honesty—

“What are you two scheming about?” Chan played with his keychain.

“Mmm, nothing,” Felix giggled. “Minnie’s just saying how much he wants to fuck you.”

“Hey!” Seungmin unlinked his arm from Felix’s and jabbed his elbow into his side instead.

Chan laughed and walked closer, pinching Seungmin’s cheek. “He doesn’t need to whisper about that. I know already.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Seungmin swatted Chan’s hand away. He ignored the way something between his thighs throbbed. Suddenly, he was beyond glad that he was wearing such dark shorts.

Chan pressed a kiss to Seungmin’s forehead and smiled against it, pressing another kiss before completely pulling away. He reached down to take Seungmin’s hand and squeezed it. “C’mon. We should head out so the others don’t get there too long before us.”

“Do you know where it is?” Felix asked, following them out. “Minho didn’t give you an address or anything.”

“Yeah, I do.” Chan locked the door behind them, then unlocked the car. “The bartender is a good friend. I visit sometimes just for him.”

“Ooh, the cute, gym rat, possibly gay guy?” Felix almost tripped as he ran to open the door of the car.

“Yeah, him,” Chan laughed. “I’m sure you’ll like him, Felix. And he’ll like you too, as long as you compliment him enough.”

Seungmin slid into the back seat with Felix, sitting on the passenger side so he still had a good view of Chan. Chan looked back at him through the rearview mirror as he adjusted it, small smiles spreading on both of their faces. Chan winked. Seungmin rolled his eyes and looked back at Felix.

“Maybe you’ll have a boyfriend after tonight, Lixie,” Seungmin whispered, nudging Felix’s knee with his.

Felix sighed, closed his eyes, smiled. “God, I hope so. Chan, is he a good guy?”

Chan rested his arm around the passenger seat and looked back as he reversed out of the driveway. “He’s the best guy I know. You’ll love him. Promise.”

---

As soon as they stepped into the club, Seungmin immediately felt out of place. Loud, booming music, the bass vibrating his bones. He hung back by Chan as he watched Felix run off to find the others. Chan wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

Chan leaned in close to speak into Seungmin’s ear— not fully shouting, but still raised enough to be heard over the speakers. “You okay?”

Nodding, Seungmin melted into Chan’s grasp. “I’m okay,” Seungmin shouted back. “Just don’t leave my side.”

Chan nodded and pressed a kiss to Seungmin’s head. With his arm still wrapped around Seungmin’s waist, they slowly made their way to the end of the bar, where they found Felix already flirting away with a half–naked man behind the counter. Felix’s face lit up as Seungmin took a seat next to him.

“This is Changbin!!” Felix shouted, pointing at the bartender. “Isn’t he cute?!”

Seungmin looked at the man behind the bar. He was shirtless. Well, technically speaking, at least. He had cowprint suspenders across his chest— his giant fucking chest — and was wearing a sparkly pink cowboy hat. Seungmin couldn’t see what kind of pants or shorts or whatever he was wearing attached to the suspenders, but he figured it was just as silly as the rest of his outfit.

Chan hadn’t stopped laughing since they’d sat down. Changbin crossed his arms over his chest and Seungmin didn’t miss the way Felix almost fell off the barstool at how Changbin’s biceps bulged. Seungmin couldn’t judge— he just helped Felix recover his balance.

“Bro,” Chan barely managed through laughs. It was the kind of laugh that made him squeak every now and then, and Seungmin’s heart jumped every single time. “Bro, bro, come on.” Chan started to contain himself, covering his mouth with his hand as he giggled.

“Save it, hyung,” Changbin scoffed as he took Felix’s empty glass. His voice sounded practiced; perfected for the setting. The ideal volume to be heard over the music with a sweet edge to the tone of it, like he was letting them know that he’d dealt with worse.

Seungmin could feel Felix vibrating at the speed of light next to him with how badly he wanted Changbin. Seungmin couldn’t blame him.

“Bro, the fuck are you wearing?” Chan shouted over the music, giggling again.

Changbin rolled his eyes and poured another drink, handing it to someone down the bar. “Lost a bet,” Changbin explained. He didn’t elaborate.

“Yeehaw, I guess,” Chan laughed. “I forget we’re in fucking Texas now sometimes.”

“Tell me about it.” Changbin gave Chan a look, then turned to Felix and Seungmin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar, pointing between them. “You kids want anything?” Changbin pointed directly at Seungmin, smiling. “Birthday boy, I presume?”

Seungmin nodded, shy. “I don’t know what I like. I’ve never had anything decent.”

“He’s only had, like, shitty vodka,” Felix chimed in. “Which he hated.”

Changbin nodded, pursing his lips, looking at Chan. “Want me to give him your usual?”

“Ooh,” Chan hummed. “Yeah. Worth a shot. If he doesn’t like it, I’ll gladly finish it.”

“I got you, man.” Changbin winked and turned around, reaching for god–knows–what to make the drink.

“Chan,” Felix whisper–shouted across the bar. “Chan, Chan, Ch—”

“Yes, Felix, what is it?” Chan smiled, sickeningly patient. He squeezed Seungmin’s thigh as he leaned closer to Felix.

Felix motioned towards Changbin, whose back was still turned. “He’s single, right?” he whisper–shouted again.

Chan laughed and nodded. “Pretty sure. Go for it, you have my blessing.”

“Oh, thank god,” Felix breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’ve never needed anyone more.”

Felix didn’t leave the bar all night. Seungmin kept close by, just in case— though he trusted Changbin because Chan trusted him, he still wanted to keep Felix safe. From the rest of the people in the bar, mostly. He’d heard nightmare stories about other times Felix had gone out, and he was going to do anything to prevent them from happening again.

He sipped on the drink Changbin had handed him, so slowly that it had become increasingly watered down. It was so, so sweet. He really hadn’t thought Chan would be the type to drink such sweet alcohol. But, then again, he’d seen Chan drink more pineapple juice than water.

But he hadn’t considered the ramifications of drinking. He had to piss. So badly. But the idea of going into the bathroom alone scared the life out of him.

Chan must have sensed his anxiety, because his hand on Seungmin’s hip pulled him closer. “Sweetheart,” Chan whispered, his nose bumping against Seungmin’s ear. The feeling made Seungmin shiver, and he leaned deeper into Chan’s touch. “You okay, baby?”

Seungmin whined, pulling Chan down by his shirt. “Need— restroom. Really bad.”

Chan nodded, tightening his grip around Seungmin’s waist, and led them towards the back of the venue. “Need me to come in?” Chan asked, standing in front of Seungmin, both hands on Seungmin’s hips.

Seungmin shook his head. “No, it’s okay, I’ll be okay.”

Chan frowned. “Are you sure, pup?”

Seungmin’s face burned at the endearment. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. I’m sure.”

Chan stepped forward and kissed Seungmin’s cheek. “Okay. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Seungmin kissed Chan’s cheek back before slipping out of his grasp and into the restroom behind him. Miraculously, a stall was open at the far end of the room. He slipped into it and locked the door behind him.

Men’s restrooms were beyond gross. Seungmin dreaded going into them every time. He’d much rather wait until he got home— but he felt like he was about to explode, and nobody else looked like they were ready to leave yet.

So he put down the toilet seat cover— gross, gross, gross— and hovered inches above it, just for good measure. He did not trust the hygiene of the men coming through there. He ignored the hole in the wall of the stall next to him. He didn’t think about it.

Seungmin finished his business and got out of the stall as quickly as possible. Held his breath as he headed to the sinks to wash his hands. He needed out, now, as soon as possible.

“Oh, cutie, what are you doing here alone?” A man with a voice shot from what sounded like decades of smoking called out to him. Seungmin stepped away and yanked far too many paper towels out of the box on the wall. The man pouted and stepped closer, tilting his head to the side. Seungmin felt his stomach churn. Why had he been having such horrible luck in restrooms since meeting Chan? Why had he told Chan that he could go in alone? Why had he thought he could do this?

“I’m not interested, sorry,” Seungmin muttered, eyes downcast. He backed up more, until he was against the wall, as he watched the man’s feet creep closer and closer.

“I promise I’ll make it worth your while,” the man drawled, his voice gravelly.

Before the man could take another step, he was flung back against the wall of urinals. Seungmin looked up in shock to see Chan’s hand bunching up the man’s shirt and holding him against the wall. The man tried to speak, but Chan just slammed him against the wall again. He coughed and groaned, his face crumpled in a grimace.

“What?” The man managed, smiling up at Chan. “He your boyfriend or something?”

“Yes,” Chan responded instantly. “Back the fuck off before I break something that won’t heal.”

Seungmin stepped forward and tugged on Chan’s free hand. “Hyung, it’s okay, stop.” At this angle, so much closer, he could see Chan’s expression. He’d never seen Chan’s face like that before. It was hard to decipher, somewhere between fiery hot anger and pure terror. Was Chan really that shaken up about someone coming onto Seungmin like that?

Chan let go and stepped back. The man collapsed against one of the urinals and struggled to catch his breath. Chan gripped Seungmin’s hand, tight, and tugged him outside. Outside outside.

“Chan, wait,” Seungmin huffed, looking behind them as they got further and further from the bar. “Everyone’s still there.”

“They’ll be fine. Minho can drive them home. He didn’t drink.” Chan’s voice lacked any emotion. Seungmin was scared.

“Hyung…” Seungmin whispered, following Chan deeper into the parking lot. “Are you mad at me?”

Chan stopped walking and turned around, cupping Seungmin’s face with both of his hands. Chan was frowning, eyebrows furrowed from worry, eyes glossy. “No, baby, never. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

Seungmin sniffed and closed his eyes. “I want to go back. To be with everyone else. To celebrate.” He felt Chan’s thumbs caress his cheeks, immeasurably soft.

“Were you really having fun, Seungmin?” Chan asked quietly. “I know all you were doing was just looking out for Felix. And, trust me, Changbin can do that really well.”

Seungmin squeezed his eyes closed harder, forcing the tears to stay back. He’d never been one to cry often. But the tears flowed so easily with Chan. “I wasn’t really having fun, no,” Seungmin confessed. “But I don’t want to leave and—”

“Hey, hey,” Chan shushed him, kissing both of his cheeks. “Today is about you. How about we go home and celebrate, just the two of us?”

Seungmin slowly blinked his eyes open. He was embarrassed at how a few tears rolled down his face, but Chan wiped them away without a word. “Okay. Let’s go home.”

Chan led him the rest of the way to the car and helped him in, buckling his seatbelt, then shut the passenger door behind him ever so softly. Seungmin had started to like being taken care of like that. When Chan took his own seat on the driver’s side, he sighed. “Sorry. About earlier. And how I said we were dating. It was just easier to say yes, I guess.”

Seungmin chewed on his bottom lip and played with his thumbs in his lap. “It’s okay,” he whispered back. “I didn’t mind you saying that, anyway.”

The car ride was silent for the rest of the way home.

I heard once, it's the comforts that make us feel numb

We'd go out with no way to get home

And we'd sleep on somebody's floor and wake up feelin' like a millionaire

Seungmin was upset. Or, at least— trying his very, very best to look upset. He hoped he was doing well. He hoped it was working.

It seemed to be working. Chan wouldn’t look at him for more than a few seconds at a time. “Honey, don’t give me that look,” Chan sighed, getting up off the couch.

Seungmin let out a pathetic whine— the saddest noise he could muster. He saw Chan visibly stiffen as he tugged Chan back down by his hand. “Hyung…” he whined. “Come on.”

Chan looked down at him, his lips pulled into a tight line. “I don’t know, baby.”

Seungmin tugged again. Chan sighed and sat down, pulling him into his lap effortlessly. Seungmin smiled and wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck. “Please? I promise to be good.”

Chan kissed Seungmin’s temple and scratched his scalp. It felt like heaven on earth. “It’s not you I’m worried about, little one,” Chan whispered. “I just can’t drink, too.”

Seungmin pouted as he pulled back, looking down at Chan. “But I want you to drink with me. That’s the whole point.”

Chan looked up at him, face contorted in concern. “I don’t want to be drunk or tipsy or even buzzed when it’s your first time being drunk. I won’t be able to properly take care of you, honey.”

“I’ve drank before,” Seungmin huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never been drunk , Minnie. Believe me, it’s different. And you need someone to take care of you.”

“You don’t need to take care of me all the time.”

“Hm?” Chan tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his face. “Are you saying you don’t want me to take care of you anymore?”

Seungmin panicked. “No! No, I want you to. No,” he stammered, moving his hands to hold Chan’s face. “I’m sorry. Take care of me. Please.”

Chan smiled, so wide that Seungmin’s hands moved with his cheeks. “I will. But I’m not drinking, okay? I’m too much of a lightweight to keep up with what I’ve heard your tolerance is like.”

Seungmin pouted, but nodded. “Okay. Fine. Deal.”

Chan pressed forward and kissed him. Seungmin’s eyes fluttered shut as he kissed back.

They’d kissed too many times to count. Even so, every time felt a million times better than the last. For some reason, a reason Seungmin couldn’t put his finger on, this time felt a little different. Chan’s hands on his hips, Seungmin sitting fully on Chan’s thighs, Chan’s eyelashes brushing against Seungmin’s cheeks as Chan tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Chan’s tongue slipped into Seungmin’s mouth and Seungmin almost started crying. Chan immediately pulled back. “Seungmin?” Chan whispered, concerned. “You okay?”

Seungmin nodded, sniffing. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes, a little shocked to not find any tears. “I don’t know. I felt weird for a second.”

“Bad weird?” Chan asked, his thumbs rubbing circles into Seungmin’s hips. Seungmin shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” Seungmin sniffed again, smiled, leaned in again. “I’m sorry for ruining it.”

Chan chuckled and brought a hand up to cup Seungmin’s cheek. “You could never ruin anything with me. I promise.”

Seungmin kissed him again. Chan kissed him back.

---

Chan left to get drinks, since they didn’t have a single drop of alcohol in the house. They had sat together on the couch, looking up nearby liquor stores, shocked at the sheer amount within a mile radius. Chan had picked the closest one; it had good enough reviews.

Seungmin waited for him on the couch and realized after a minute or two that he’d never been left alone in the house. He’d quite literally been with Chan everywhere since even before the semester had started— about a month and a half ago. Chan became his bodyguard two months ago.

Two months. It had felt like two years to Seungmin. Two months, and his life had changed this much. Two months, and someone who was a stranger before, was now the person who meant the most to Seungmin.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them. Was this love? It felt different, so different from anything he’d ever felt before. He knew he loved Felix, and Hyunjin, and Jisung. The love he felt for them was undeniable. He felt like he belonged with them.

But he felt like he belonged with Chan, too. In a different way— but still. That sense of belonging was still there. Even if it was in a way where he felt like Chan’s cock belonged deep inside of him— while the belonging with his friends was far , far more tame.

The idea of being drunk around Chan started to scare Seungmin a little. What if he accidentally confessed? He wasn’t sure if it was love yet— he didn’t want to slip up and say that he loved Chan without knowing it for certain. And, god, the idea of spilling all of the things that he’d thought about when getting off— Seungmin wanted to die at the idea of Chan knowing any of it. At how badly he wanted to get on his knees for Chan. At how badly he wanted Chan to eat him out. At how badly he wanted Chan’s cock inside of him, at how he wondered if Chan would be rough or soft. At how badly he wanted to know.

He needed to stop thinking about it. He was scared that he’d blurt it out while he was drunk if it was still even a sliver of a thought in the back of his mind. Seungmin got up and walked to the bathroom in the hallway to splash water on his face. Surely that’d help.

But when he walked in, he was met with the overwhelming smell of every one of Chan’s soaps at the same time. He felt himself clench around nothing. He stepped back slowly and closed the door. Fuck .

“Honey, I’m home~” Chan sang from the entryway. Fuck .

“H–Hey, Chan,” Seungmin managed, making his way to the kitchen. “What’d you find?”

Chan appeared around the corner with a giant cardboard box in his hands. He smiled, wide and mischievous. “Guess.”

“Did you buy the whole fucking store?” Seungmin gawked, meeting Chan at the kitchen island. He tried to help Chan lift the box onto the table, but Chan waved him away with a flick of his finger.

“Too heavy for you, pup,” Chan cooed. “Let daddy do it.”

“Fuck you,” Seungmin laughed, but complied. He stepped back and watched Chan’s biceps tighten as he lifted the box onto the table. He ignored how his body clenched around nothing again. He was not going to think about it.

Chan carefully took out every item from the box and set it out, explaining what every drink tasted like, the alcohol content, how easily each one would get him fucked up. Seungmin learned very quickly that Chan knew a lot about what he was talking about.

“What, were you a bartender at some point?” he asked as Chan collapsed the empty box, setting it aside. Chan smiled up at him and winked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes and tried not to gag. He was so fond of Chan. So endlessly fond. “Seriously though. Answer my question.”

Chan shrugged as he started putting everything in the fridge. “Spent a lot of time with Changbin, I guess. He’d just rant about different drinks sometimes.”

Seungmin sat at the counter and watched Chan. He tried not to look at Chan’s arms for too long. Or his back. Or his chest. Or his face. Or his hair. He tried not to look at Chan at all. “Why hadn’t I heard about Changbin before?”

Chan shrugged again, his back turned to Seungmin. “Don’t know, love. Never came up? And I don’t talk much about myself unless prompted.”

“I’m prompting you now, then.” Seungmin reached for a bottle; a weird little ball, brown liquid inside. “Tell me more about yourself,” he said as he read the label. BuzzBallz. Cocktail. CHOC TEASE. Seungmin stifled a laugh as he put it back with the other weird–shaped drinks.

“Not how it works, puppy,” Chan chuckled. He turned around and put the rest of the alcohol into the fridge. “I’ll try to talk more about myself, yeah?”

“Okay,” Seungmin sighed. “I’ll take it.”

Chan shot him a smile and pulled him over. “C’mon, sweetheart. Come choose something to drink first. Then we’ll talk.”

Seungmin stared into the open fridge with Chan hugging him from behind, rocking back and forth, shifting his weight from left to right. He looked through the disgusting amount of alcohol Chan had purchased; through the small cocktails, through the wine bottles, through the cans of beer. He leaned back into Chan’s arms; Chan hugged him tight and pressed a kiss to the back of his ear. Seungmin closed his eyes and reached forward, taking out whatever his hand landed on.

He pulled out one of the Choc Tease BuzzBallz and, for the first time in his life, got drunk.

---

It didn't take as long as they had expected. Chan had bought way too much alcohol. Seungmin got drunk after only three of the BuzzBallz. He learned quickly that he liked chocolate–flavored alcoholic drinks.

“Hyungie, nooo,” Seungmin whined as Chan picked him up. Seungmin’s body went limp in Chan’s arms. “Wanna drink more~”

Chan chuckled and kissed Seungmin’s forehead. “You’re drunk, sweetheart. You’ve had enough.”

“But—” Seungmin hiccuped, clinging onto Chan as he was carried to the bedroom. “But hyung…”

“Shh, shh, I know,” Chan cooed. “Another time. I promise to let you drink another time, but maybe not all the way drunk.”

Seungmin hummed. He nuzzled his face into Chan’s neck and breathed in. Fuck . Chan smelled so good. He wanted to soak a washcloth with Chan’s scent and suck the flavor out with his mouth.

“Here we go, sweet boy,” Chan whispered, slowly easing Seungmin down onto the bed. “There, there.”

“Hyung—” Seungmin reached out, head spinning, chest tightening. Chan slipped into bed next to him, pulling Seungmin into his chest, holding him close.

“You okay, honey?” Chan asked, tracing patterns into Seungmin’s head. Seungmin hummed into Chan’s chest and slowly pieced his words together.

“Feels— weird,” Seungmin mumbled. Chan kissed Seungmin’s head, left his lips there.

“I know, honey,” Chan cooed. “Get some sleep, okay?”

“But, hyungie, but,” Seungmin whined. “You said I could get you off. Wanna get you off. Please, please, hyungie, please—”

“Shh, I know.” Chan moved his hand down to hold Seungmin’s waist, to pull him closer. “Not now. You’re drunk. Some other time, I promise, okay?”

“You promise?” Seungmin lifted his head— then regretted it, instantly. Chan cradled him close and he collapsed back into his chest. “Ow.”

“Poor puppy,” Chan sighed. “I promise. You can get me off another time. Sleep, baby.”

Seungmin bunched up Chan’s shirt in his hand and fell asleep with his head still spinning.

You and I had nothing to show (we didn't know anything)

But the best of the world in the palm of our hands

Seungmin woke up with a throbbing headache. His hand was still holding onto Chan’s shirt, clenched almost tight enough to rip the fabric. He slowly let go, blinking to adjust to the sun creeping in through the curtains.

“Morning, Minnie,” Chan whispered. His voice sounded shot. Seungmin slowly, carefully lifted his head to look Chan in the eye. He was met with a sleepy smile from Chan, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Did you not sleep?” Seungmin asked, worried. Chan closed his eyes and nodded. “Chan…” Seungmin sighed.

“Didn’t want to be asleep if you needed me,” Chan said, slow. It looked like it took all his strength to speak. “I had a horrible time when I got drunk for the first time. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“I’m not alone, Chan,” Seungmin whispered, pressing a kiss to Chan’s cheek. He ignored the ache in his head. Chan was more important. “You’re here, Chan. I’m okay.”

“I needed to stay awake to keep an eye on you,” Chan explained. His eyes were still closed. He tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips. Seungmin chuckled and peppered kiss after kiss to Chan’s lips. “Needed to— make sure— you didn’t— struggle like— I did,” he whispered between kisses.

“What happened?” Seungmin asked, resting his head on Chan’s shoulder. Chan hummed.

“I’ll tell you another time, sweetheart,” Chan said. He sounded like he was seconds away from falling asleep. Seungmin tried to raise his head again to kiss Chan, but his head throbbed. He groaned into Chan’s shirt.

“Hyung…” he whined. Chan’s arm around his waist pulled him closer, humming in response. “My head hurts so bad.”

“Let me get you some painkillers, then,” Chan whispered. He squeezed Seungmin’s hip, then slowly sat up.

“Wait— Hyung, no,” Seungmin panicked, trying to push Chan back down. Despite how tired Chan must have been, Seungmin still couldn’t budge him.

“It’s okay, Minnie, I’ll be fine,” Chan promised. He slowly blinked his eyes open, giving Seungmin a genuine smile. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Seungmin sat against the headboard of his bed and watched Chan slowly leave the room, Chan’s head tilted down to watch his step. He didn’t think he could ever change Chan, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t even move Chan an inch physically. He couldn’t stop Chan from doing anything. He couldn’t stop Chan from taking care of him.

For the first time in his life, he was content that he couldn’t change someone. He’d wanted his parents to change for so long— for them to be more supportive, less abusive, less… everything, really. He’d wanted to change old friends, who’d never once addressed him correctly. He’d wanted to change Felix, even— to stop Felix from all the hookups, to keep him safe. But he knew that he couldn’t. He knew that he couldn’t change anyone, no matter how hard he wanted to— or tried.

But he was happy that he couldn’t change Chan. He was happy that he couldn’t stop Chan from taking care of him. He was happy that he couldn’t stop Chan from loving him. He trusted Chan. He knew Chan only wanted good things for him.

Chan returned with a bottle of water and a tiny ramekin. He looked a little more awake. “Does it still hurt really bad?” he asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Seungmin hadn’t paid much attention to his headache since Chan had left the room. He had been too deep in his thoughts. But, reminded of it, the ache slowly crept back to the forefront of his mind. “Hurts. Bad,” was all he could manage.

Chan helped him take the pills, tipping the bottle back to let Seungmin drink slowly. “Good puppy,” he praised. Seungmin almost choked on the water; Chan laughed. “Sorry. Shouldn’t praise you when your mouth is full, huh?”

Seungmin’s mind instantly went south. “Fuck off,” he groaned, hitting Chan’s chest with his fist. Chan laughed again, pressing a kiss to Seungmin’s forehead. Seungmin’s head still throbbed. He closed his eyes and grimaced. “Ow,” he hissed.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Chan cooed. He peppered kisses all over Seungmin’s face and held him close. It barely eased the pain. “Take a hot shower, okay? It’ll help.”

Seungmin whined. “Don’t know if I can stand for long, hyung.”

“Then I’ll come hold you up.”

Seungmin’s face burned. He shook his head. “No, no,” he stammered. “No. Don’t want you to see me like that yet.”

Chan sighed. “Okay. I’m just worried you’ll fall or something, honey.”

He opened his eyes to see Chan looking at him, worried sick. Seungmin frowned. “You can stand close outside,” he conceded. “You’re allowed to come in if I fall.”

“Good.” Chan leaned forward, pressing a long kiss to Seungmin’s forehead. He helped Seungmin up, helped him walk, helped him to his bathroom. “You sure I can’t stay in with you?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” Seungmin confirmed. “Thank you, Chan. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Seungmin closed the door behind him and took in a deep breath. The room wasn’t spinning like it had been the night before, but it was still hard to find his footing.

The hot water of the shower started to get to him after a couple of minutes. He leaned against the wall, heavy, taking deep breaths.

“—innie?” Seungmin could barely hear Chan’s voice over the sound of the water pouring down. “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” Seungmin called out. He stepped back into the water and finished showering as quickly as he could while still staying careful.

Turning off the water, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Slowly, carefully, warily, he stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat. The damp, hot air in the room filled his lungs and made him dizzy.

He stepped forward and tripped over the edge of the mat. The door swung open. Before he could even begin to fall, Chan caught him, holding him up. “Careful, careful, baby,” Chan whispered, helping him sit on the bench along the wall. “I’ve got you.”

Seungmin was too sick from the heat to worry about the one layer keeping Chan from seeing his entire body, bare. He leaned back against the wall and focused on breathing in and out.

Chan turned on the overhead fan and opened the door wide to let the air out. He grabbed a dry towel and started slowly drying Seungmin off, starting by running the towel across his buzzcut. “My poor baby,” Chan cooed, wiping Seungmin’s chest dry. “You needed me, huh?”

“Always need you, Chan,” Seungmin whispered back, loopy. Chan chuckled.

“I know you do, baby,” Chan hummed. “Sweetheart, need you to take off the towel, okay?”

Seungmin nodded, slowly standing up to let Chan slip it off. Chan kneeled down and softly dried his legs, his hips— with an insane amount of care, then patted away the dampness between Seungmin’s legs. Seungmin closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, trying his best not to think about it, trying his best to not add to the dampness right as Chan was inches away.

“Good boy,” Chan praised as he finished drying Seungmin’s body off. He stood up and kissed Seungmin’s nose. “Let’s go get you dressed, okay?”

Seungmin nodded. He leaned forward as Chan gently picked him up and carried him bridal–style out to the bed. “Thank you,” he whispered, laying back on the bed, taking deep breaths. The air was so cold. He loved it— up until when he started to shiver.

“Here, baby,” Chan cooed. Seungmin blinked his eyes open to see Chan holding out one of Chan’s hoodies, along with a pair of Seungmin’s briefs and shorts. “Need me to dress you?”

Seungmin huffed, slowly sitting up, reaching out for the clothes. “You’re not my dad. I can dress myself.”

Chan chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Mm,” he hummed, placing the clothes between them. “But you’d like it if I was your dad, wouldn’t you?”

Seungmin slapped Chan’s shoulder as hard as he could and ignored Chan’s pained whine. “Don’t say that to me while I’m fucking naked, Chan.”

Chan laughed, rubbing his shoulder where Seungmin had just hit. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized. “I’ll shut up.”

Seungmin slipped on his clothes and felt warmth creep back into his body as soon as he put on the hoodie. He climbed under the covers, reaching out for Chan. “C’mon,” he pouted. “You haven’t slept. Sleep with me.”

Chan smirked, pulling back the sheets to join him. “You want me to sleep with you?” Chan giggled, laying down on his side, smiling up at Seungmin. “At least take me to dinner first, jeez.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You know what I meant.”

Chan pulled him down into his chest, squeezing him tight, kissing all over his head. “I know. You know I just love to tease, baby boy.”

Seungmin cuddled closer to him, burying his face in Chan’s chest, breathing in deep. “I know. And I—” love you for it , was what he had been about to say. He sighed in relief that he’d caught himself in time. Still, he wasn’t sure if love was what he was feeling. He didn’t want to say it if he wasn’t sure. “And it’s fine by me, hyung,” he finished.

Chan hummed. His nose was buried in the short length of Seungmin’s hair. “Thank you for forcing me to sleep,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Seungmin forced his body not to stiffen. He nodded into Chan’s chest and wrapped his arm around Chan’s waist. “I like you too, Chan.”

“I’ll take it,” Chan chuckled.

Seungmin heard Chan start snoring within what felt like seconds. He cuddled Chan closer, followed him as he rolled over onto his back, rested his head on Chan’s chest.

He couldn’t sleep. It was hard for him to sleep so soon after waking up. He’d tried many times before— but it had never worked. He tried, again, on Chan’s chest. But it didn’t work.

Chan seemed to think he’d been asleep, though. He woke up seven hours later (almost exactly; Seungmin had watched the clock tick as he listened to Chan’s snores and decided then and there that the sound of Chan sleeping was his favorite song) and almost immediately started playing with Seungmin’s hair.

“My baby’s so cute,” Chan whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. Seungmin could tell that Chan definitely didn’t intend for Seungmin to hear him. Chan was speaking to him like he would to a dog. “Prettiest boy in the world. How did I get so lucky?”

Seungmin tried to control his breathing, to slow his heart rate. He swore he could hear his heart thudding in his chest. He didn’t know why it felt different to hear Chan say sweet things in that moment. He’d heard much sappier things come out of Chan’s mouth— but maybe it was because those endearments weren’t for Seungmin’s ears; maybe they were just Chan’s thoughts, just his feelings, so overwhelming that he couldn’t keep them to himself.

Seungmin could feel his chest physically move with how fast his heart was beating. Chan seemed to feel it, too, because he instantly started shaking Seungmin’s shoulders ever so gently. “Puppy, hey,” Chan cooed. “Wake up, Minnie.”

“Mmm,” Seungmin hummed. “I’m awake.”

“You okay?” Chan squeezes Seungmin’s shoulder. “Nightmare? Your heart was beating really fast.” Seungmin felt his heart soar. God, Chan was dense. It was so fucking cute.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah,” he lied. “Nightmare.”

Chan made a sad noise. “Poor puppy,” he whispered as he pulled Seungmin up to kiss his forehead. “Come cuddle more. Daddy’ll take care of you.”

Seungmin buried his face into the crook of Chan’s neck and threw his leg over Chan’s legs. Chan kissed his forehead again and again. Seungmin could feel the smile on Chan’s face with the way Chan’s lips felt against his skin. “Thank you, daddy,” Seungmin teased.

Chan pressed one more kiss to his forehead before he turned his head to rest against Seungmin’s. “You’re welcome, little one. Anything for you.”

But I know bein' reckless and young

Is not how the damage gets done

Notes:

”damage gets done” — hozier (love this song so much highly recommend please listen)

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 8: who we are

Notes:

chapter warnings:: a teeny tiny bit of sex talk, a Lot of choking, misgendering

thank you to @wannirei for writing part of this chapter! i love your addition <3 (and happy birthday!!) check out his work here ! && thank you to mj for helping me brainstorm other scenes to add to this chapter!!

posting early for ^'s birthday and karma release. i am in love with 0801 i'm never going to stop listening to it.

You only feel it when it's lost

Gettin' through still has a cost

Seungmin woke up to kisses being peppered all over his face; Chan’s lips pressed to every inch of his skin. Seungmin giggled, turning his face back and forth— only for Chan to follow, pressing kisses all over.

“Hyung…” Seungmin whined. Chan pulled back, pouting.

“What? You don’t like me kissing you?” He sounded wounded.

Seungmin glanced behind Chan, looking up at the clock: 11:55 am. Just a few minutes before noon; around eight hours after Seungmin had last checked the clock. He looked back to Chan and smiled.

“I love you kissing me,” Seungmin whispered. “But I’d much rather you kiss my lips, hyung.”

Chan smiled. “That can be arranged.”

As soon as Chan kissed his lips, Seungmin’s heart started thudding in his chest so hard he swore he could hear it. Chan hovered on top of him, laying his body fully onto Seungmin’s, cupping Seungmin’s face with his hands. He tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, thumbs tracing circles into Seungmin’s cheeks.

Seungmin lost himself in Chan’s lips. The kiss wasn’t needy, or sloppy, or even wet— it was exceedingly soft; gentle, passionate; reverent. Just Chan’s lips against his. Just the slow and patient rhythm of Chan kissing his bottom lip, ever so slightly sucking on it, just to pepper more and more soft kisses to it.

They shifted back and forth; Chan’s top lip between Seungmin’s, then Seungmin’s top lip between Chan’s, soft and slow. One of Chan’s hands trailed up Seungmin’s face and buried itself in his slightly grown-out mess of hair. Seungmin desperately needed a haircut if he wanted to keep it looking decent. But it felt good to have Chan able to get his fingers stuck in his hair; to feel the slight tugs as Chan scratched his scalp. Maybe he’d let it grow out more.

Before Seungmin knew what was happening, Chan’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Seungmin moaned around it and Chan just licked deeper inside with how wide Seungmin’s mouth opened. “Fuck,” Seungmin whimpered. Chan smiled against his lips, licking the underside of Seungmin’s tongue.

Seungmin wrapped his lips around Chan’s tongue and sucked. Chan whined into the kiss, pulling away, a string of saliva connecting their mouths. “Where’d you learn to do that, puppy?” Chan pressed a kiss to the corner of Seungmin’s mouth.

“Just wanted to do it, daddy,” Seungmin hummed. Chan made a noise halfway between a growl and a groan, then sunk his teeth into Seungmin’s bottom lip. A sob wrecked Seungmin’s body at the slight sting.

“You’re not allowed to call me that yet,” Chan whispered into Seungmin’s open and waiting mouth. “Not genuinely. Not sincerely. Not yet, little one.”

Seungmin whined. “I want to, hyung.” He pouted. “Please?”

Chan forced Seungmin’s mouth closed by pushing his jaw up. He pressed his lips to Seungmin’s, plush and soft. “I’ll tell you when you’re allowed to, okay?” He let go of Seungmin’s jaw and licked into his mouth again.

Seungmin hummed in response and kissed back, panting, tongue chasing Chan’s. Again, Chan’s hands cupped Seungmin’s face, tracing patterns into his cheeks. This time, though, the kiss was wet; needy, hungry, sloppy. Seungmin could feel Chan getting more and more heated, more desperate. Chan was laying on top of him, but at an angle where his hips weren’t pressed against Seungmin’s. Seungmin tilted his head to the side to break away— Chan pulled away to give him space.

“Chan,” he gasped, catching his breath. Chan hummed, squeezing Seungmin’s cheeks softly. “Can I touch you?” he asked tentatively.

Chan smiled down at him, petting his cheeks. “Touch me how, little one? Use your words.”

Seungmin whimpered. At Chan’s words, at the tone of his voice, at the implication. He felt something throb between his thighs. “You know what I mean,” he huffed.

Chan tsked and shook his head. “Come on. I won’t give you an answer unless you ask me outright.”

“Chan…” he whined. Chan narrowed his eyes and said nothing; waiting. Seungmin frowned and tried to muster the confidence. “Can I… fuck,” he sighed. “Can I touch your— your dick , Chan?” Seungmin whispered quietly, squeezing his eyes shut from embarrassment.

Chan chuckled. Seungmin felt Chan kiss the tip of his nose, then all of Chan’s weight lifted off of him. Seungmin opened his eyes to find Chan standing at the foot of the bed, stretching his arms out, smiling down at him.

“Maybe some other time, pup.” Chan cracked his knuckles, tilting his head to the sides as far as it could go. “Up. Out of bed. Let’s take advantage of the weekend and have some fun.”

Seungmin let an angry breath out through his nose and sat up. “We can have fun in bed, Chan.”

Chan laughed. “We’ve been making out in bed for like two hours. I think we can take a break.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “It hasn’t been two hours—” he started, but looking at the clock, he bit his tongue. The minute hand had just crossed over the six; the hour hand was almost exactly between the two and three. It was 2:30pm. Over two hours since he’d last looked at the time. “Holy shit,” he breathed out.

“Yeah.” Chan chuckled under his breath. “Come on.” He patted Seungmin’s thigh over the blankets. “Up and at ‘em.”

“Ew.” Seungmin shivered. “You sound like my dad.”

Chan hummed. “I am your dad, so that checks out.”

Seungmin threw his pillow at Chan— Chan just caught it. “I’m gonna fucking punch you.”

Chan set the pillow down on the foot of the bed and smiled. “I’d like to see you try.”

He left the room; left Seungmin sitting in bed, a growing dampness between his thighs. Seungmin grimaced as he stood up and felt his briefs sticking to his skin. Nobody had ever had such an effect on him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Fishing out another pair of underwear from his dresser, he decided he definitely wasn’t upset about it. Having to do laundry a little more often was a good trade–off to have Chan as his— well, whatever they were to each other. Seungmin wasn’t upset. He’d be happy with less.

---

Chan wanted to make cookies. He wouldn’t say why. Seungmin, wanting to do anything and everything that Chan wanted to do, gave in without any pushback.

He knew Felix had a really good cookie recipe that every single one of their friends loved more than anything. So as he reached out to Felix, Chan set out the butter to soften and any other ingredients he was sure he’d need. he called Felix, told him the situation, and Felix sent a photo of a messily scribbled recipe on a torn piece of lined paper— i’ve never written it down, Felix had texted along with it. but i know it by heart. hope it’s legible<3

Seungmin placed his phone on the kitchen island and tilted it so that Chan could see the screen. Chan retrieved each of the ingredients after preheating the oven, slapping Seungmin’s hand away when he tried to help.

“Hyunggg,” Seungmin whined. “Let me do something, please.”

“No.” Chan set everything out in order of how it was listed in the recipe, labels pointing towards him, all placed the same distance away from one another. “I’m doing everything. You just watch and look pretty.”

“Come on!” Seungmin protested and watched as Chan got out two different bowls. “I’ve baked before. I’m competent.”

“I’m sure you are, little one. I’m not saying you’re not.” Chan started to measure out each ingredient, gently dumping them into their correct bowls. “I want to do this for you and I want you to keep me company. That’s it.”

Seungmin groaned. He held back, though; wanting to be good. Needing to be good for Chan. “Can I do anything ?”

“Nope.” Chan smiled at him as he mixed the sugar and egg in with the softened butter and other wet ingredients. “Just sit back and be a good puppy.”

Seungmin kicked Chan’s leg, huffing. Chan just laughed; he didn’t budge in the slightest. “Hate you,” Seungmin whispered. He started to pretend to punch Chan’s side, weak jabs just hitting air.

“You hate me? Awh,” Chan cooed, slowly adding the other bowl’s contents to the bowl of wet ingredients. “Now you have two dads that you hate.”

“Chan!” Seungmin slapped Chan’s shoulder. Seungmin’s hand stung with how tight Chan’s shoulder was. He ignored the way it made him feel. “Don’t say shit like that!”

Chan laughed. “Why? Don’t you like it? Don’t you like when daddy teases you?”

Seungmin closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck off. You’re so annoying. I hate you. You piss me off.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chan waved Seungmin off, started rolling the dough into balls, set them on the non–stick baking sheet. “You lie to me so much. I wish you would be more honest with me, puppy.”

“You know what I mean even when I do lie, Chan.” Seungmin gently drove his fists into Chan’s side properly this time, again and again; not fully punching, not putting any power behind it, just teasing.

“I do,” Chan confirmed. He ignored Seungmin hitting him. He looked completely unfazed. “It’s easy to tell when you lie to me.”

“Really?” Seungmin asked. He still kept hitting Chan, though his arms started to get tired. He hadn’t worked out seriously in a while. But he kept pretending to punch; it felt like it would be a surrender to stop now.

“Mhm,” Chan hummed. He finished shaping the batch of dough and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. Seungmin followed, now driving his weak hits into Chan’s other side. Chan still hadn’t acknowledged it at all. “I know you, Seungmin. I don’t think you can ever successfully lie to me.”

Seungmin huffed. He jabbed one of his fists a little harder right as Chan turned to face him; his knuckles ached as they directly hit Chan’s abs. He masked his facial expression as a dull pain spread through his hand.

Chan dried his hands with a towel and chuckled. “Are you going to stop hitting me any time soon, little one?”

“No.” Seungmin didn’t stop, even though one of his hands started to feel numb. Chan grabbed both of his fists and held them; softly, but firmly.

“Let me put the baking sheet in the oven, then you can keep going, okay?” Chan smiled up at him. Seungmin nodded, biting back his pout.

Chan let go and opened the oven, gently placed the sheet onto the middle rack. Seungmin stood off to the side and waited; patient, but needy. He needed more of Chan. He didn’t like just watching Chan do things. He wanted his hands on Chan, or vice versa.

As soon as Chan closed the oven door and set a timer, Seungmin attached himself to Chan’s side again. Chan chuckled and turned around, put his hands on Seungmin’s hips, and lifted. Seungmin yelped as Chan effortlessly picked him up and set him on the counter.

“You done hitting me?” Chan hummed, thumbs dug into Seungmin’s hips.

“Maybe,” Seungmin whispered. He was too shaken up from Chan picking him up out of nowhere, Chan’s hands pressed into his waist.

Chan lifted his hand and took hold of Seungmin’s chin. “You wanna kiss while we wait for the cookies to bake?”

“Yes,” Seungmin replied instantly. “Please.”

When Chan kissed him again, after maybe an hour of not feeling Chan’s lips on his, Seungmin melted. He wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck, pulled him in, kissed him deeper. Chan tilted his head to the side and deepened it; he ran his tongue across Seungmin’s bottom lip and swallowed Seungmin’s whines.

Seungmin lost track of time in Chan’s lips, too focused on memorizing the taste of Chan’s tongue. It took maybe ten minutes for either of them to speak.

“I like when you fight back,” Chan whispered into the kiss. “It’s cute.”

Seungmin pouted and stopped kissing back. Chan pulled away and held Seungmin’s face with one of his hands, eyebrows furrowed. “But…” Seungmin jutted his bottom lip out. Chan cooed, petting Seungmin’s face. “I don’t like fighting back usually. I like being good for daddy.”

Chan’s thumb stopped moving across his cheek; Chan’s eyes visibly darkened, his face grew hard, serious. Seungmin’s heart thudded harder in his chest. “You shouldn’t say that, Seungmin.” Chan’s voice sent chills through his body.

Seungmin shook off the feeling, shook off how flustered he was. He stuck out his tongue. “Too bad. I can say whatever I want.”

The hand on Seungmin’s face dropped down to his neck and wrapped around it. Before Seungmin could protest, Chan’s hand was applying pressure to the sides of his neck. He couldn’t fight the moan that struggled its way out of his throat.

It felt so fucking good.

The timer went off on the oven and Chan didn’t move an inch. He stayed standing between Seungmin’s spread legs, hand tightening around Seungmin’s neck as time went on, face so close to Seungmin’s that it was all Seungmin could see. The fire behind Chan’s eyes, the clench of Chan’s jaw, the thin line of Chan’s lips.

“Behave,” Chan growled. Seungmin whimpered, lifting his hand up to claw at Chan’s hand, trying to pry it away. Chan squeezed tighter and narrowed his eyes. “I know you like this, Seungmin. I know you like my hand on your neck. But this is all you’re gonna get, puppy.”

Seungmin stopped fighting back and chewed on his bottom lip, focused on breathing through his nose.

“If you behave, maybe I’ll reward you, yeah?” Chan’s hand loosened to let Seungmin reply. “Sound like a plan?”

“Yes, sir,” Seungmin whispered. “I promise to be good.”

Chan let go of his neck and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Good boy.”

Seungmin gasped for air, rubbing at the aching sides of his neck. He watched Chan step away, slipping a pair of oven mitts on, taking out the baking sheet. Chan placed the hot tray on the cooling rack on the island next to Seungmin and fanned the cookies off.

“Wanna try one, puppy?” Chan’s voice was back to normal. Seungmin didn’t comment on it; he needed to be good.

He slipped off the island and stood next to Chan. “Yes, please, Chan.”

Chan made sure the cookies were cool enough, then used a spatula to ease one into a plate for him. “Here you go, honey. Careful, it’s still really hot.”

Seungmin tentatively took a bite as it started to crumble apart in his hand. As soon as the cookie hit his tongue, he had to fight his expression. It tasted horrible . It tasted more of salt than chocolate. Seungmin forced himself to swallow it, then looked to Chan. Chan was watching him, waiting for Seungmin’s reaction, eyes softened.

He wasn’t sure if he should be honest or mess around. Half of him wanted Chan’s hand around his neck again. But the other half wanted to be good for Chan— wanted more, wanted that reward.

The desire to be a brat and tease his ‘daddy’ took over the desire to be good.

“It’s so good, Chan, oh my god,” Seungmin lied through his teeth. He prayed that Chan couldn’t see through this lie like he’d been able to before. “You need to try it.” He held out the rest of the cookie and masked his expression when he realized he hadn’t even eaten a tenth of it.

“Yeah?” Chan smiled, eyebrows raised. “Should I eat it all?”

Seungmin swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah.”

Chan took the cookie out of Seungmin’s hand and, with the cookie just inches away from his mouth, paused to smile. “You sure, Seungmin? The whole thing?”

Fuck. He knew. He most definitely knew. But Seungmin had already pushed this far. “Yeah. The whole thing.”

Chan narrowed his eyes, nodded. Then ate it all in one bite.

Seungmin couldn’t hold back his giggles as he watched Chan’s face crumple into disgust. Chan chewed it completely, swallowing after the longest minute of Seungmin’s life.

“Brat,” Chan hissed, downing an entire glass of water. “You’re so lucky I love you because I would’ve fucking killed you if you were anyone else.”

Seungmin giggled and wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck, peppering kisses all over Chan’s face. “I’m sorry, hyung.” Seungmin pressed a kiss to Chan’s forehead, then his nose, then his lips. Chan cupped Seungmin’s face in his hands and kissed back. “I’ll behave,” Seungmin whispered. “I just wanted to tease.”

“I know, puppy.” Chan smiled into the kiss. “I knew you were lying. I wanted to see if you’d crack.”

“Why’d you still eat it, then?” Seungmin pouted.

Chan shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t be too bad. And I’d do anything you asked of me, anyways.”

Seungmin kissed him, pulling Chan flush against his body. Chan wrapped an arm around his waist and deepened the kiss. “Sorry again,” Seungmin whispered between kisses. “Don’t hate me.”

Chan chuckled against Seungmin’s lips. “I could never hate you.” He kissed Seungmin’s cheek. “It’s okay. This way, we just have an excuse to bake more together, yeah?”

Seungmin kissed Chan again and smiled against Chan’s lips. “Yeah. Just let me help next time.”

Chan pulled away enough to narrow his eyes at Seungmin. “We’ll talk. Okay?”

Seungmin sighed, then smiled and pressed a kiss to Chan’s cheek. “Okay. I’ll take it.”

Chan pressed him up against the counter and kissed him, the cooling cookies just inches away long forgotten.

Quietly, it slips through your fingers, love

Falling from you drop by drop

For probably the millionth time in his life, Seungmin wanted his parents dead.

It wasn’t enough to be under constant surveillance, no; they needed to interrogate him, too. At least they usually did it around people, with an audience, so they couldn’t kill Seungmin and get away with it. But Seungmin hated the parties they threw. The company was never to his liking.

The mirror next to Seungmin’s desk was full length, making him feel just that much shorter. His father was 6’4” and made him feel less of a man every time they stood in front of one another at the gatherings. He wasn’t allowed platforms or insoles— no, they were ‘tacky.’ They made him look too ‘cheap.’

Seungmin threaded the tie through his collar as he imagined the look on his mother’s face if he told her about how he’d been with Chan. The way she’d clutch her necklace, maybe some blood would even seep out of her closed fist. Seungmin smiled.

Chan leaned against the doorframe, amused. Seungmin looked his way for a fraction of a second, just enough time to ogle at Chan’s exposed forearms. He wore that t–shirt on purpose. He knew what it did to Seungmin. Seungmin scoffed and looked away. Why did Chan have to look so good all the fucking time?

“You alright over there?” Chan called out. Seungmin could hear Chan’s shit-eating grin.

“Yes,” Seungmin lied. “I’m so alright.”

A pause. Seungmin didn’t look, but he knew Chan was doing that thing with his tongue in his cheek. “You’ve never tied one before, have you?” Chan chuckled and Seungmin felt his heart rate speed up. That always seemed to happen when Chan did anything around him, really.

“Of course I have. I just forgot.” Seungmin heard slow steps approaching him, Chan’s combat boots landing heavy on the floor. Seungmin couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t lie to Chan’s face.

“Poor baby,” Chan cooed. Seungmin felt his ears burning. “Need daddy’s help?”

“No,” Seungmin choked out.

“Turn around,” Chan hummed.

Seungmin wasn’t sure when he’d started following Chan’s orders without hesitation. It felt good— knowing that he was the one to make Chan smile, that he made Chan proud. It had started to feel better than disobeying. So Seungmin turned around.

Chan was smiling; of course he was. Seungmin looked away, because even after everything that had happened between them, he still couldn’t handle being so close to Chan. “I’ll teach you properly next time.” Chan took the tie into his hands, untying the horrid knot Seungmin had managed to get tangled up thrice. “When we’re not running late.”

Seungmin winced. He knew that was Chan’s way of scolding him. “Sorry.”

He blinked once, and Chan was already smoothing out his tie. Seungmin wished he could’ve watched Chan do it, but he didn’t have the courage to look down at Chan’s hands.

Seungmin took a deep breath in and looked Chan in the eye. “Thank yo—” He gasped before he could finish the sentence, his air cut off suddenly as the fabric around his neck tightened. His hands flew up to claw at Chan’s fingers on his tie, eyes wide, a whimper escaping his lips against his will. “Cha—”

“Ah, ah,” Chan tsked, yanking the tie to pull Seungmin closer. Seungmin tripped over his feet, falling into Chan’s chest. Chan smiled, caressing the black silk still constricting Seungmin’s airflow. “You’re cute like this,” he hummed, relishing in Seungmin’s pathetic whines and attempts to pry Chan’s hands away from the tie. “Awh, baby’s too weak.” Seungmin’s knees buckled.

“S–Stop—” Seungmin managed to choke out, his face going numb.

“My bad.” Chan smiled sweetly, letting go. His thumb rubbed at Seungmin’s neck. Gentle. “My hand slipped.”

Seungmin wanted to tell Chan to go fuck himself. He wanted Chan to wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze until he passed out. He wanted Chan to apologize and grovel for a week to make up for choking him out. He wanted Chan to do it again and for it to leave a mark.

He couldn’t say anything in the end. He just coughed as Chan kept his sickeningly sweet smile on his lips, stepping away. “I’ll be waiting in the car. If you take too long, I’m coming back.”

Seungmin only began breathing normally again once Chan had left the room. He sat on his desk to stabilize himself and touched his neck, fingers wrapping around the tie the way Chan had held it. He pulled.

He ignored his dress pants suddenly becoming exponentially more damp.

Darling, we sacrificed

We gave our time to something undefined

This phantom life sharpens like an image

But it sharpens like a knife

These events were the bane of Seungmin’s existence. He hated every second of them. Not being able to be too close to Chan just made it so much worse. He knew that they couldn’t really touch— couldn’t hold hands, couldn’t hug, couldn’t sit too close. Seungmin hoped that the night would be over quickly.

The second Seungmin stepped into the venue, his heart stopped. Pink. Everywhere. Streamers, balloons, flowers, banners. Every single decoration adorning the walls and ceilings of the ballroom in his parents’ estate was a horrid shade of pink.

He liked pink. Even the disgusting neon pink that everything was in that room. He wasn’t against it. It wasn’t his favorite color, but still. He liked pink.

What made his heart sink into his stomach was what he knew the reasoning behind it was. Every party his parents had thrown for him since he’d come out as a guy had been like this. Pink everywhere. Flowers everywhere. Girly. Feminine. Like his parents had done for every birthday since he had come out as trans.

Seungmin looked forward, to the middle of the room; his parents stared back, champagne glasses in their hands. They both raised their glasses. Seungmin turned away and speed–walked along the side of the room, as far away as he could get from them.

Nobody stopped him. He recognized nearly everyone in the room. Men who worked with his dad, aunties that went to brunches with his mom, people from his school years, even old friends. None of them even looked at him. None of them recognized him.

Seungmin took a seat in the back corner of the room, in a position where he could see everyone. Nobody else was sitting at the table; they were all busy socializing. Chan pulled out a chair and sat next to him. He nudged his knee against Seungmin’s. Seungmin didn’t move an inch.

“Honey,” Chan whispered. “You okay?”

Seungmin was too in his own head to worry about anyone hearing Chan call him that, for anyone hearing the immeasurably sweet tone of Chan’s voice. “I’m fine,” Seungmin sighed. “I should’ve expected this.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Chan placed his hand on Seungmin’s thigh under the table. Seungmin tensed up and held his breath. “Minnie, I’m so sorry. We can leave, okay? We don’t have to stick around.”

“They’ll kill me if I leave, Chan. You don’t understand.” Seungmin placed his hand over Chan’s, played with it, traced the veins that were visible on the back of Chan’s hand. “I can’t leave until they allow me to.”

“I’ll be right next to you every second of the night, then.” Chan squeezed Seungmin’s thigh. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It didn’t last long— avoiding his parents. Because not even five minutes after he’d sat down, one of his father’s men herded Seungmin to the table in the middle of the room. Begrudgingly, he went. Chan stayed so close behind him that Seungmin could still smell his cologne.

Ms. Kim tapped her glass with a spoon as soon as Seungmin sat down; the room fell silent. Mr. Kim cleared his throat.

“Happy birthday to my daughter, Seungmin.” His father looked down at him, not a single ounce of admiration behind his eyes. “We’re so glad you’re home.”

Seungmin felt every single person in the room looking at him. People slowly realizing who he was. Slowly recognizing him. Slowly understanding the situation.

He felt sick. He felt seconds away from crying. He felt like his heart was going to stop.

Chan’s hand found its place back on Seungmin’s thigh. His thumb rubbed patterns into it, figure–eights. Seungmin put his hand over it. Chan flipped his hand over and interlaced his fingers with Seungmin’s.

Chan squeezed three times. Seungmin squeezed back once.

Seungmin dissociated throughout the entire dinner. He picked at his food; steak, cooked too long to be to his liking. He could hear Chan make conversation with his parents (or, just his father, really— his mother was a woman of very few words). Bits and pieces of their discussion slipped through the cracks. Something about how Seungmin’s classes were going. Something about how he’d spent time with friends. Something about how he hadn’t been too much of a hassle for Chan to manage. He stifled a laugh.

He did notice, though, when the conversation seemed to fizzle out— because once dessert had been finished and all the plates were cleared, his father looked him directly in the eye. Seungmin couldn’t look back.

“Seungmin.” His father’s voice sounded the same as always; nails on a chalkboard. “Go talk to the other kids.” Mr. Kim pointed a few tables away. “Let the adults talk.”

Seungmin’s breathing turned shallow. He turned to look at Chan, hoping, begging , that Chan would provide some way out for him. He didn’t want to be away from Chan for even a second.

Chan gave him a gentle smile, a pat on the head. “Go on. You’ll be okay.” Seungmin frowned and shook his head, glancing his father’s way for a moment, before settling back on Chan.

“Chan, no,” Seungmin whispered under his breath. “I don’t want to be apart from you.”

Chan leaned in close, but not close enough to be misinterpreted; they were still only feet away from Seungmin’s parents. “You won’t be too far. I promise nothing bad will happen. And, if something does happen, I’ll make it up to you.” Chan pulled away and smiled. “Trust me.”

Seungmin swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. Reluctantly, he stood up and pushed his chair in, not without missing the kiss Chan blew him as his father turned away. Seungmin had to fight the blush creeping into his cheeks and walked away as quickly as he could.

He approached the table of ‘kids’ (likely just other young adults; none of them looked even a year younger than him) and took a seat at an angle at which he could still see Chan. Chan looked so serious, so collected, so mature. Seungmin swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth at how incredibly attractive Chan looked.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Seungmin almost jumped out of his own skin at someone suddenly speaking to him. A boy laughed next to him and nudged his shoulder.

“Sorry,” the boy giggled. “Should’ve brought you back to reality before I talked to you, huh?”

Seungmin breathed out through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut for a second before turning to face the boy. He was smiling, so wide there were deep dimples dug into both of his cheeks— his eyes resembled Chan’s when he smiled; small slanted crescents with the visible slivers of his irises sparkling. His ginger hair was perfectly curled; Seungmin could tell it wasn’t natural, that this boy had meticulously curled it himself. He was cute. Something about him reminded Seungmin of a fox.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Seungmin clarified. He turned back to look at Chan. Chan was nodding, lips pursed, listening intently to whatever his father was saying. He looked so serious. “He’s my bodyguard,” Seungmin explained.

“Damn.” Seungmin watched as the boy (who he’d named ‘Fennec’ in his head) leaned back in his chair, face falling. Suddenly, Fennec looked so serious— his face looked like it could turn someone to stone. “I wish my bodyguard was that hot,” Fennec sighed.

Seungmin chuckled. “We can’t all be that blessed.”

Fennec smiled again, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. That’s my bodyguard.” He pointed back behind him. Seungmin looked that way— the only person standing where Fennec had pointed was an elderly man leaning against the wall, arms crossed, so skinny that Seungmin could see his bones.

Seungmin turned back to Fennec, jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious,” he laughed. “Can he even walk without support?”

Fennec stared him in the eye and his face fell deathly serious. “He’s a black belt. He once took out sixty–three men single–handedly. He’s beyond competent.”

Embarrassed, Seungmin’s eyes flitted back to the bodyguard. The man didn’t look the type to be able to do much. But something within Seungmin trusted Fennec, even if it didn’t make logical sense.

Fennec started laughing. He reached forward and tapped Seungmin on the back. “I’m joking. Sorry.”

“Man…” Seungmin sighed, leaning back in his chair, smiling. “I actually believed you.”

“You’re way too trusting, then,” Fennec smiled. “But, yeah—” He pointed back at his bodyguard. “He looks way older than he is. But he’s not really a fighter, anyways. He’s just a family friend looking out for me.”

Seungmin pursed his lips, glanced Chan’s way for a moment. Chan still had that same serious look on his face, nodding along to whatever his father was saying. “Your bodyguard doesn’t need to fight?”

He looked back just in time to see Fennec shrug. “My parents are actors. Nobody’s really out to kill me or anything.”

Seungmin felt something ugly grow inside of him. Something akin to jealousy. He was disgusted by it. That he was jealous at, what— someone else being safer than him? Someone else’s bodyguard not needing to kill people? Someone else having parents that weren’t deep in shady business?

He pushed the feeling down. He was disgusted at himself for feeling that way. He should have been happy that Fennec was safe. He should have been happy that Fennec had a better life than him. He should have been happy that his parents were the way they were— because it meant he’d needed a bodyguard; because it meant he’d met Chan. He should have been happy. He had Chan.

“Lucky,” Seungmin managed. “My bodyguard has had to kill someone for me.”

“Oh, no shit?” Fennec gasped. He nudged Seungmin over so he could get a good look at Chan. “Oooh, yeah. I see it. Those hands could definitely kill.”

Seungmin felt his neck warm. Remembering how Chan’s hand had felt around it in the kitchen; how the tie had felt when Chan had pulled on it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and rubbed at the front of it.

“He killed the guy with a gun, I think,” Seungmin whispered. He was sure it would be a problem if some random person listened in and heard that someone in that room had killed someone. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he could kill with his bare hands.”

“He definitely can.” Fennec slowly nodded. Then he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I should stop ogling your bodyguard. I’m dating someone.”

“Oh?” Seungmin leaned forward, nudging Fennec’s knee with his. “What’s her name?”

Fennec narrowed his eyes at Seungmin. “Why do you assume they’re a girl when you’re also drooling over your bodyguard?”

Seungmin’s cheeks flushed red. “Well— hey. I’m not dating him or anything.”

“Suuure,” Fennec grinned. “Whatever you say…” He tilted his head to the side, confusion spreading across his face. “Wait, I didn’t get your name.”

“Seungmin. It’s Seungmin.”

“Nice to meet you, Seungmin.” Fennec held out his hand. Seungmin took it and Fennec shook his hand gently. “I’m Jeongin.”

Finally . A name to the face. Seungmin had started to feel weird calling him ‘Fennec’ in his head. “Nice to meet you too, Jeongin.”

Seungmin felt something against his other knee; he turned to find Chan sitting next to him, smiling. “Miss me?” Chan sang.

“Never.” Seungmin rolled his eyes. Chan laughed.

Jeongin reached his hand out towards Chan, smiling. “Hi, I’m Jeongin.”

Chan took his hand and shook it firmly. Seungmin watched and felt his throat grow tight at how the veins in Chan’s hand bulged. He looked away. “Hi,” Chan said. Seungmin didn’t need to see his face to know that he was smiling. “I’m Chan.”

Seungmin cleared his throat as the two pulled their hands apart. He turned to Jeongin, pretending to ignore Chan. “Anyway. Tell me about your partner.”

Jeongin blushed. “He’s so pretty. And such a good artist. He keeps saying he wants to draw me but I—” He paused, pursing his lips. “I don’t get to spend much time with him. I’d rather be cuddling with him when we can be together instead of having him paint or draw me.”

“I totally get that.” Seungmin nodded. “I’d feel the same.”

“Thank you!” Jeongin exclaimed. “I wish you could tell him that. Maybe then he’d drop it and stop bringing it up. He can use a photo or something if he wants to draw me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

“Minnie,” Chan whispered. He nudged Seungmin’s knee with his. Seungmin pushed back, still turned away from him. Chan sighed. “Minnie, seriously. C’mere.”

Seungmin looked at him, narrowed his eyes. Chan narrowed his eyes back. “What?”

Chan leaned in close and his breath fanned over Seungmin’s ear. “Jeongin’s boyfriend sounds oddly familiar. Ask what his name is, puppy.”

Seungmin slapped Chan’s shoulder as he pulled away. “Don’t call me that in public, Chan,” he hissed. Chan laughed.

“Sorry, sorry,” Chan apologized. Seungmin huffed and looked back at Jeongin.

Jeongin was smiling, watching the two of them interact. “Y’all are cute,” he keened. “Not dating, my ass.”

“I promise we’re not dating,” Seungmin sighed. “He just likes me too much.”

“Sure.” Jeongin chuckled. “I’ll believe you for now.”

Chan nudged Seungmin’s knee again. Seungmin shot him a look, then gave in: “Jeongin, I have a question.”

“Yeah. Shoot. Anything.”

“Your boyfriend— what’s his name?”

Jeongin smiled. “Hyunjin. His name is Hyunjin.”

So much of our lives

Is just carving through the dark

To get so far

And the hardest part

Is who we are

It's who we are

Notes:

"who we are” — hozier

i'm so sorry for the wait!!! i was so stressed getting chapters out on time and got really behind. i'm better now and have a bigger backlog of chapters ready<3 i will try to update every other week from now on!

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

please leave a comment if you have the time! i like to receive confirmation that there are real people reading this and interested in what i write. if there was a part you liked in particular, or you have a theory on how the story will continue, please share! i'd love to read what you have to say, and it means the world to know that you've taken time out of your day to read what i've written and leave a comment. i will update as often as i can so please be patient with me and subscribe to the fic to get notifications when i post new chapters! :heart:

Chapter 9: son of nyx

Notes:

chapter warnings:: misgendering, deadnaming, a single slur mentioned in seungmin’s inner dialogue

See how it shines

“Hyunjin,” Jeongin said, smiling wide. “His name is Hyunjin.”

Chan’s hand on Seungmin’s thigh tightened as Seungmin’s jaw dropped.

“Oh,” Seungmin whispered. “Oh fuck. You’re him.”

Jeongin blinked at him, confused. “I’m who?”

“You’re Hyunjin’s secret man!” Seungmin exclaimed, giddily leaning forward. “He won’t tell us shit about you. I’m so happy I know you’re real now.”

Jeongin laughed. “I’m real, I promise.” His eyes crinkled into crescents, but Seungmin could still see them shift from him to Chan. “So you’re both friends of Hyunjin’s?”

“Well,” Chan mused. “Moreso just Seungmin. But I’ve been around when Hyunjin’s been around lately.”

Jeongin clicked his tongue, nodded. “Hold on. Yeah. You’re Chan and Seungmin. Hyunjin’s told me about you.”

Seungmin’s ears burned. Why was he embarrassed at one of his closest friends talking to his boyfriend about him? About Chan?

“You’re a lot hotter than Hyune said you were, Chan.” Seungmin’s embarrassment was quickly replaced with emotions he felt with overwhelming shame— jealousy, envy, resentment. He watched as Jeongin looked Chan up and down; he held his breath as Chan’s hand on his knee stopped tracing patterns over his dress pants.

“Thank you,” Chan replied, sincere. Seungmin held back the scoff bubbling up in the back of his throat. “But I think Seungmin here would be upset if you kept complimenting me, so maybe cut back, yeah?”

Seungmin felt Chan’s hand squeeze his knee and, finally, he was allowed to breathe again. Seungmin looked out of the corner of his eye to see Chan looking back; an endlessly soft smile, eyes with a sheen of understanding boring a hole into his skull. Seungmin blushed and looked at the ground.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongin chuckled. “He did get a little mad, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” Seungmin muttered, eyes still trained on his feet under the table; shoes an inch too big, borrowed from Chan, because he didn’t have proper dress shoes that still fit. “Wouldn’t you be possessive too?” he whispered, glancing up at Jeongin, still too shy to hint at what exactly he and Chan were. Not like he himself knew, regardless.

“I don’t blame you; I’m possessive over Hyunjin, too.” Jeongin let out a content sigh, before confessing: “I miss him.”

“I’m sure he misses you, too.” Seungmin slowly regained his composure, swallowed the lump in his throat, and made eye contact. It was uncomfortable to look people in the eye the majority of the time— but something about Jeongin made it comfortable; something about Jeongin put Seungmin at ease. “He won’t tell us anything about you but, at the same time, never shuts up about you.”

Jeongin laughed, deep dimples dug into his reddening cheeks. Seungmin felt a sudden wave of something he couldn’t place his finger on— but, all of a sudden, he felt like it was his job from then on to protect Jeongin from all harm. Seungmin wondered if he could be a bodyguard while he still had one of his own. Or maybe Chan could guard both him and Jeongin. He wondered if Chan could share in that capacity (not that Seungmin could share Chan, anyway).

“I feel bad sometimes,” Jeongin started, lips pulled into a thin line. “That we have to keep it a secret for the most part. We can’t go on dates and stuff, because every time I go outside, someone snaps a picture and ties it back to my parents.”

“Oh.” Seungmin made a pained noise. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to understand how that feels.”

Chan squeezed his leg, a little harder than usual. Seungmin looked at him out of the corner of his eye, to find Chan looking right right at him, unimpressed. As if to say, Yes you do. As if to say, You understand how that feels. Seungmin looked away.

“But it’s okay.” Jeongin put on a smile. Seungmin wasn’t sure if it was real or not. He didn’t know Jeongin well enough yet to tell. He hoped it was sincere. “I’m happy with any moment I get to spend with him. Even if we can’t be official and public and everything.”

“Yeah.” Seungmin smiled sincerely. He understood. He placed his hand over Chan’s, the one still on his thigh. Chan squeezed, soft. Seungmin squeezed back.

“I have a question, if you don’t mind,” Jeongin started, pointing at Seungmin. “About this whole party here.”

“Sure.” Seungmin decided then and there that he’d do anything Jeongin asked of him. “What’s your question?”

“Why’s everything pink? Is it some sort of humiliation ritual?”

Seungmin laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.”

Jeongin sighed. “I’m sorry. My parents suck, too, but— god. I can’t imagine.”

Pity wasn’t something Seungmin liked to receive. It made him uncomfortable; made his skin itch and his head ache.

Thankfully, Jeongin had another question to snap him out of it, a question that replaced the discomfort with bewilderment. “Why did they call you their daughter, though?”

Seungmin tilted his head to the side, scanned Jeongin’s face for any hint of insincerity. “Because… I used to be?” he slowly pieced together. Jeongin still looked confused. “My parents don’t think being trans is real.”

“Oh.” Jeongin’s eyes looked everywhere; up to the neon pink streamers above their heads, over to Seungmin’s parents at the middle of the room, back to flitting between Seungmin and Chan. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Seungmin let a long, shaky breath out.

“I had no idea you were trans.”

“Re-Really?” Seungmin choked out. He didn’t believe Jeongin for even a second.

“Not a clue. How would I know?”

Seungmin looked down at himself. He really didn’t look too different compared to how he had looked before testosterone, before top surgery, before everything— he didn’t see how he could look masculine enough to a stranger for them to see him as male at first glance.

“Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Seungmin asked, still examining his own body.

“Why would he?” Jeongin chuckled softly; no air of malice to it. “It never came up, and it’s not my business, anyway.”

“You didn’t assume from, like…” Seungmin motioned all around them. “All of this?”

Jeongin laughed, shook his head, waved Seungmin off. “I didn’t even consider it to be an option. You’re so, like—” Jeongin hissed; tried to find the right word. “You’re so boy. It never crossed my mind that you were ever not a boy.”

For the first time in his life, at the hands of someone who was not Chan— Seungmin blushed. He’d never felt such intense gender euphoria, and it was all thanks to Jeongin.

Chan’s hand on his thigh inched towards his knee, squeezed. “Minnie.”

With his face still burning, Seungmin looked Chan’s way. “What?” he hissed, just for Chan to smile in response.

Chan leaned in, closer and closer, to whisper in his ear. “Are you really blushing at another man’s words?”

Seungmin’s body went weak. He slapped Chan’s hand away, hitting Chan’s knee with his. “Shut the fuck up, Chan,” he muttered.

Laughing, Chan put his hand back on Seungmin’s thigh to squeeze, tight. “Brat.”

Jeongin sighed loudly. “I wish I could flirt with my boyfriend, too. But alas.”

“He’s not—” Seungmin made a pained noise, somewhere between a sigh and groan. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Mmm, so you’ve said.” Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “But you’d like him to be, wouldn’t you?”

Something about that hit Seungmin hard. He shook his head, said something nonsensical, waved Jeongin off. He stopped paying much attention to the conversation and felt an immense amount of gratitude when Chan took over for him, talking to Jeongin as if nothing had happened.

Did he want Chan to be his boyfriend? It would be fucked up. Chan was still being paid to be Seungmin’s bodyguard. Not to mention the, what— fifteen year age difference? How would he explain that to people? What if they got married down the road? What if they spent the rest of their lives together? Even if they both lived to the same age, that would be fifteen years Seungmin would have to live after Chan died. Could he do that? Could Seungmin live even a day without Chan, having known how it felt to be loved by him?

He brushed the idea away. If he spent another second thinking about a world without Chan, he’d break down in the middle of the room. So he pushed it down, locked it away for another time. Today was not the day.

But he found himself drifting back to one of the questions plaguing his mind; how would he explain that to people? His parents, more specifically? What would he even say?

Hey, dad. Hey, mom. You know the bodyguard you hired to keep me safe from all the people who want to kill you? Well, I know what the inside of his mouth feels like. I’m going to suck his dick as soon as he’ll allow me to. Hope that’s okay with you.

His parents would be beside themselves. They’d be beyond upset— Seungmin smiled at the idea of it. Maybe they’d disown him. Seungmin hoped for that. Maybe then, he’d be free.

A little voice in the back of his head was telling him something different, though. A little voice was telling him that his parents would be happy.

Seungmin had never really dated anyone before. But, before realizing he was a guy, he’d had many ‘girlfriends.’ At first, his parents had been happy about the change, about how he’d finally gotten over the ‘phase’ of all of his friends being male; that he’d stopped playing basketball with the boys from his classes over the weekends, and instead spent the days off from school at the girls’ houses.

He could still remember his mother’s face that day. When she’d walked into Sara’s room and found her tongue deep inside Seungmin’s mouth. The way his mom had turned ghostly white and had stood there, unmoving. The way she had said nothing at all; the way she had just stepped inside, picked up Seungmin’s bag, and left.

Seungmin had scrambled to follow her; begging forgiveness, making excuses, lying as best as he could. Still, she hadn’t said a word the entire drive home.

The silence from his mother was arguably worse than the explicit abuse from his father. The silent disappointment always cut deeper than the slew of hate from his father's mouth. He had always known how his father had felt about him. The hatred from his dad was an always food. His father’s words were cuts he knew how to treat; he always had enough bandages for them. But the indifference from his mother— that was a poison that seeped into his bones that no bandage could even begin to tend.

Every time she refused to look at him as he was sent to the laundry room, every dinner where she wouldn’t defend him from his father’s assault of questions, every text that was left on read— it all built up to a chronic pain deep inside that was far more painful than any of his father’s shouting could ever be.

He knew where he stood with his dad. He knew his father hated him. But, with his mother, with how little he had ever heard her speak— he had no idea how she felt. He had no idea how she felt about him, about his father, about the way his father treated him. He didn’t know if he was allowed to hate her or not.

Seungmin could fight back against his father’s words, heal from them, overcome them— but how could he possibly defend himself against silence?

She didn’t speak to him for three months after that day. His father had grounded him for those months; he had gone so far as to ground him from school. Someone who worked for his dad had brought Seungmin’s homework every day. Seungmin hadn’t been allowed to leave his room, with the exception of being allowed in the dining room for dinner. He hadn’t been allowed breakfast. His lunch for three months had consisted of whatever half-assed sandwich one of his father’s maids could remember to put together.

So a little voice in the back of his head was telling him that his parents would be overjoyed at the idea of Seungmin and Chan dating. That, finally, their daughter had seen the light— was dating a man, instead of fooling around with girls from Pre-Calc. That they’d be glad Chan was his bodyguard, too; so a big, strong man could protect Seungmin.

Seungmin looked down to see Chan’s hand still on his thigh. He hadn’t been conscious of it. He hadn’t noticed the way Chan was moving his hand in a rhythm: moving his thumb in circles— one, two, three times— then his entire hand squeezing Seungmin’s thigh. Again, moving this thumb thrice, and squeezing.

Seungmin wrapped his hand around Chan’s wrist and moved it away. He ignored the sad whine Chan let out that sounded like he’d been punched. His eyes stayed trained on his leg, where he started to feel an overwhelming emptiness in the space where Chan’s hand had laid. Seungmin tried his best to ignore it. His thigh only burned hotter every second that passed without Chan’s touch.

An offbeat rhythm of heels against the tiled floor approached the table. Seungmin didn’t look up.

“Hi,” Chan said. Seungmin could hear the fake smile in his bodyguard’s voice. “What can we do for you?”

“I’m here to congratulate the birthday girl!” The woman’s voice sounded like a knife being scraped against fine china. It made Seungmin shiver.

“There’s no birthday girl here,” Jeongin responded, without missing a beat. “You must be mistaken.”

Seungmin gave Jeongin a weak smile and hoped his eyes would be enough to convey how appreciative he felt. He didn’t trust his voice.

“I know I’m not mistaken, boy,” the woman snapped. Seungmin’s head snapped up and he shot her a look, narrowing his eyes, challenging her to continue. He promised himself that he’d do much worse for Jeongin than what he’d seen Chan do for him. She looked him in the eye and smiled, a look of recognition in her eyes. He hadn’t seen this woman in his life.

“It’s so nice to see you!” The woman clasped her hands together in glee. “I barely recognized you. I guess I haven’t seen you in person since you were a baby. You’ve grown into a very attractive young woman, (REDACTED).”

The name. The name he hadn’t heard in years. The name that still made his heart sink into his stomach, even when not directed towards himself. The name that had caused him a lifetime of pain. The name that, even still, years and years later, held so much power over him.

He felt sick. He was sick. He was seconds away from throwing up. His head throbbed instantly; he’d never had a headache form this quickly— definitely not one of this caliber.

Now Chan knew his deadname. Jeongin, too. They both knew. They knew who he was before, they knew the easiest way to get him to crumple and collapse and cave in on himself. They knew Seungmin’s best guarded secret. They knew Seungmin’s greatest weakness.

“His name is Seungmin,” Chan growled.

Seungmin’s eyes finally tore away from the woman to look beside him. Chan was standing up, hand clenched around the firearm on his hip. Seungmin held his breath.

“You will refer to him correctly or you won’t refer to him at all. Got it?”

The woman’s expression turned sour. “Her name is (REDACTED). You don’t know her like I do.”

In a split second, Chan unclasped the holder and pulled the gun out by an inch. She stepped back. “Get the fuck away from him,” Chan snarled. “Before I do something I won’t regret.”

The woman instantly disappeared back into the crowd of people behind her. As quickly as Chan had been ready to shoot, he dropped to his knees at Seungmin’s side.

“Minnie, are you okay?” Chan whispered, held Seungmin’s hands, caressed them. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”

Seungmin’s bottom lip trembled. He didn’t want to cry. Not here. He didn’t want to give his parents the satisfaction. “I—” he choked out. “I want to go home.”

Chan squeezed his hands and helped him up, wrapped an arm around his waist, and held him close. “I’ve got you, sweetie. Hold onto me. Bye, Jeongin.”

“Bye, Chan, Seungmin.” Jeongin’s voice was uneasy. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Chan assured him. “Thank you for standing up for him, too.”

Seungmin wrapped his arm around Chan’s waist and let himself be led away.

There was only one way out of the room, and they had to walk past his parents’ table. Seungmin tried to cower, cover his face, hide himself from their view. But his father had the eyes of a hawk; he called out Chan’s name, and Chan stopped in his tracks.

“Honey, I have to,” Chan whispered, apologetic. “Real quick. Then we’ll leave.”

Seungmin nodded, tightened his grip on Chan’s shirt. “Okay.”

“Am I allowed to chew him out for all of this?” Chan asked as they slowly approached the table.

“No, no,” Seungmin protested. “You can’t. You might lose your job. Then we’ll…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

As Chan and Seungmin tried to make their leave and say their goodbyes to Seungmin’s parents, Chan's arm was still protectively laying on Seungmin's waist. Seungmin prayed his parents wouldn’t notice it. Chan’s voice remained steady, unwavering— although Seungmin could feel the tension in Chan’s grip, the barely contained anger simmering beneath Chan’s composed exterior. Seungmin didn’t pay much attention to what Chan said; some excuse about having to leave early, classes the next day, an exam— he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that his mother stayed silent, to which his father sighed.

His father looked him in the eye. He paid attention and immediately regretted it. “You need to grow out of… whatever this is, Seungmin. You’re an adult now. Grow out your hair, for christ’s sake.”

Seungmin choked back whatever was building in the back of his throat. “O-kay.”

Chan pulled him away as quickly as he could. Chan’s hand dug into Seungmin’s waist. Usually, Seungmin would complain, say Chan was being too rough, that it hurt; but something about the pain was grounding. Comforting. He wanted more of it.

He missed Chan’s hands on him as soon as Chan opened the car door for him and helped him sit down. He watched, head tilted up, as Chan looked around, clearing the coast. Then, Chan leaned down and kissed each of Seungmin’s cheeks.

“What do you need, little one?” Chan asked, soft and sweet, one hand on Seungmin’s cheek and the other on his thigh.

“I need you.” Seungmin was shocked he was able to speak without breaking out into sobs. He stayed strong and held back his tears. “I need you, Chan.”

Chan’s face crumpled into worry; despair. He pressed a kiss to Seungmin’s lips, softer than he ever had before. Seungmin had had no idea Chan could be so gentle.

“We’ll be home soon, okay?” Chan whispered against Seungmin’s lips. “Can you wait? Or do we need to stop somewhere?”

Seungmin shook his head. “Home. I can wait.”

“Okay.” Chan pressed his lips to Seungmin’s forehead. With one last squeeze of Seungmin’s thigh, Chan pulled away and closed the car door.

As soon as Chan got his phone connected to the car, he played Seungmin’s favorite song: Rollercoaster by David Choi. He appreciated it— but it didn’t help much. Chan started the car and sped out of the open gates of the estate.

Seungmin felt sick. He felt like was going to throw up. But he didn’t want to cry. He wouldn’t give his parents that gratification; that they could still affect him this way. Even if they weren’t there to see it.

He’d never seen Chan drive so fast. Chan was still being careful— signaling, waiting for lights, etcetera. But he was easily going twenty miles over the speed limit on every road the entire way home.

The drive home, the short walk inside, the distance to Seungmin’s room— it was all a blur. Before Seungmin knew what was happening, he was buried under every blanket in his room, cradled in Chan’s arms.

“My baby,” Chan cooed. He stroked Seungmin’s head, peppering kisses to Seungmin’s forehead, his other hand tracing patterns into Seungmin’s back. “I’m so sorry about today, sweetheart.”

“Mmm. ‘S not your fault.” Seungmin buried his face into Chan’s chest. Found the skin of his face not against the bare skin of Chan’s pecs, but his shirt instead. He didn’t remember the last time he’d seen Chan wear a shirt to bed. “Chan…”

“Yeah?” Chan whispered, scratching Seungmin’s scalp. “What’s wrong, little one?”

“Why’re you wearing a shirt, hyung?” he hummed into Chan’s chest.

Chan chuckled, soft and enamored. “Needed to hold you as quickly as possible. Didn’t have time to take off my clothes, Minnie.”

“Take ‘em off, hyung,” Seungmin whined. “Please?”

Chan just squeezed Seungmin closer to his chest and pressed a long, long kiss to Seungmin’s forehead. “What if I’m comfy like this, baby?”

Seungmin sniffed, nuzzled his face deeper between Chan’s pecs. “You won’t do what I want? Even after the horrible day I’ve had? I can’t believe you hate me so much.”

Chan instantly ripped himself himself out of Seungmin’s arms and Seungmin heard a loud tear. He blinked his eyes open just in time to see Chan throwing a tattered mess of black fabric across the room.

“Anything for my baby.” Chan smiled, laid back down, pressed Seungmin’s face to his bare chest again. “Sorry, little one. Sorry I messed with you.”

“It’s okay.” Seungmin wrapped an arm and a leg around Chan, breathed in Chan’s scent; let it fill his lungs, wanting even more and more.

Seungmin was still completely dressed in his suit, from head to toe. At least Chan had let him take off his shoes— but nearly every inch of his body was still covered in the slightly over-sized dress clothes. But he still felt comfortable, in Chan’s arms like that— even if it felt weird to be fully dressed up with Chan’s half-naked body holding his.

“Why didn’t you wear a suit today?” Seungmin whispered into Chan’s chest, a hint of a whine to his voice. Chan just chuckled and played with Seungmin’s hair.

“I think you’d like that a little too much, yeah?” Chan said against his forehead. Seungmin could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” Seungmin conceded. He couldn’t lie to Chan. “That’s why I want you to wear one.”

“Ah, I see.” Chan hummed. “It’s alright. You’ll see me in a suit when we get married, my love.”

Seungmin forced a laugh. He hoped it sounded convincing. Chan couldn’t seem to tell anything was wrong; he just held Seungmin close to his chest and pressed his lips to Seungmin’s scalp.

Would his parents ever allow him to marry Chan? Would they deny it outright? Or— worse— would they like it? Would they like that Seungmin would be marrying a man? That Seungmin would be being a good daughter by marrying a man that could provide like Chan could?

He wasn’t even aware he was crying until Chan pulled him even closer and caressed his back over his suit jacket. “I’m here, baby. Always, okay?”

Seungmin nodded, sniffed, tried to hold back subsequent tears; to no avail.

He cried into Chan’s chest and tried his best to melt into Chan’s body. If his body morphed into Chan’s, maybe then he’d be free. His parents seemed to like Chan much more than him. Maybe they’d finally respect him enough to listen to him if he became Chan.

Chan didn’t ask what was wrong— he just held Seungmin close, leaving a soft kiss to his forehead every now and then.

Seungmin wasn’t sure what happened first, his tears stopping or him falling asleep. It must have happened all at once, because he drifted off with Chan being the only thought in his mind.

---

They slept in immeasurably late. Seungmin couldn’t bear to get out of bed and Chan just continued to hold him for hours and hours, even though Chan couldn’t go back to sleep himself. Seungmin fell asleep again and again, waking up every time in a different position; but still in Chan’s arms.

The clock hit 5 in the evening and Chan seemed to decide he’d had enough. He refused to let Seungmin go back to sleep and got up. “I’m going to make us some dinner, okay?” Chan ran his hand through Seungmin’s hair. “Take your time to wake up. But don’t go back to sleep.”

“Fine,” Seungmin huffed. He blinked his eyes open slowly, adjusted to the light, and took his phone from the charger as Chan left the room.

He had three missed messages. Another one came in as he read the first ones.

hyunnie minnie omg

hyunnie minnie did u meet my boyfriend yesterday

hyunnie minnie

hyunnie KIM SEUNGMIN I SEE YOU ONLINE ANSWER ME

seungmo brother i JUST woke up give me a second

seungmo yeah i met him he’s cute

hyunnie i’m coming over

seungmo ?

seungmo and i agreed to this when ?

Hyunjin showed up at Seungmin’s place not even thirty minutes later. Thankfully, Seungmin had had just enough time to throw aside his suit and hop in the shower and clean himself off from a long day of… whatever the day before had been.

As Seungmin slipped into the clothes Chan had set out for him (one of Chan’s softest shirts, Seungmin’s favorite pair of sweatpants, a pair of briefs that he wasn’t sure who owned), he heard a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” Seungmin called out, running the towel across his scalp one last time. It was really growing out fast. He needed a haircut soon to make it look decent.

“Hyunjin’s here? For some reason?” Chan chuckled on the other side of the door. Seungmin had forgotten to update him on Hyunjin coming over. Oops. “Should I let him in your room?”

“Yeah.” Seungmin set the towel on the drying rack and opened the door, smiling down at Chan. He hoped it looked convincing. “Give me and him a while alone, okay?”

Chan’s smile looked strained. “Okay. Call for me if you need me, yeah?”

Seungmin swallowed the lump that had formed the second he had opened the door. “Yeah. I will. I promise.”

Chan hesitated; he faltered between stepping closer to Seungmin, and stepping further away to open the door. Seungmin made the choice for him— he made his way deeper into his room and sat against the headboard of his bed. He couldn’t watch Chan for another second. Something deep within him burned every time he saw Chan smile like that. He couldn’t look again.

He heard Hyunjin before he saw him.

“I can’t BELIEVE you met Jeongin before I even told you his name, I’m so mad.” Hyunjin huffed, slammed the door behind him, and flung himself onto the foot of Seungmin’s bed. Seungmin just laughed and watched and listened. “Isn’t he so so cute, though?” Hyunjin laid on his side and peeked over at Seungmin with one eye squeezed shut.

“He is so so cute, yes,” Seungmin agreed. “Chan liked him too.”

“Fuck! Chan got to meet him?!” Hyunjin sighed, exasperated, closing his eyes in a loud groan. “I’m so mad. I’ve never been so mad. I should’ve been there.”

“Judging based off what he said about the two of you…” Seungmin held back a laugh. “I’m not sure that would’ve been a great idea.”

Hyunjin shot up and glared. “What did he say? Oh my god, you have to tell me. Tell me everything.”

Seungmin tried his best to retell everything as accurately as possible, but his mind spiraled and spiraled. Hyunjin and Jeongin seemed like they were so happy, so in love. Hyunjin became increasingly giddy with every new piece of information Seungmin shared from the night before— how Jeongin had instantly clocked Seungmin and Chan, how Jeongin had had no clue that Seungmin was trans, on and on and on.

Maybe it would be okay for Seungmin to date Chan officially. Then he’d feel the overwhelming happiness that Hyunjin felt when talking about Jeongin, rather than the ache in his chest at the uncertainty of his relationship with Chan.

It was all Seungmin could think about. Thankfully, Hyunjin took the reins of the conversation at some point, and started gushing about Jeongin. But all that Seungmin could think about was Chan.

Hyunjin wouldn’t understand the situation. He wasn’t trans. He wouldn’t understand how embarrassing it was for Seungmin to talk about his experiences with someone who didn’t also go through the same hardships.

Seungmin didn’t want anyone to be sorry for him. He didn’t want to see the pitiful expression Hyunjin would surely give him if he talked about what he was worrying about. He hated living in this weird space where his parents still thought he was a girl while everyone else, for the most part, saw him for him.

He wished he could be a cis boy. To wear a skirt without being scared of being misgendered. For makeup to look pretty on him like it did on Hyunjin. Hyunjin had shown up that day in full glam— he was going to some party and stopped by Seungmin’s place just to gush about Jeongin on the way. The bold eyeliner and blush looked devastatingly beautiful on him. Seungmin could never pull it off.

Seungmin wished he could like pink without thinking of that neon shade of it from the ballroom the night before. He wished he could like pink without associating it with everything his parents wanted him to be.

Seungmin wished he could date whoever he wanted to without having to worry about his parents. If he dated a girl, his dad would just call him a ‘dyke’ again. If he dated a boy, his dad would say that he was a good daughter. There was no winning no matter what he did.

He didn’t even know he was crying until he realized Hyunjin had stopped talking and was frantically searching for a tissue. Seungmin sniffed and wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Tissue box is on my desk,” Seungmin breathed out. Hyunjin retrieved the box and patted away at Seungmin’s cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin’s voice was small. Seungmin took in a deep breath; the exhale shaky.

“Can I have a hug?”

Hyunjin instantly wrapped his arms around Seungmin and held him tight. They ended up against the headboard of the bed, Hyunjin nearly in Seungmin’s lap, one of his hands petting Seungmin’s growing out buzz-cut. At that angle, Seungmin was able to see the clock over Hyunjin’s shoulder; he watched the seconds tick past as fifteen minutes of silence passed in one another’s arms. Seungmin couldn’t put into words how much it meant to him.

Hyunjin wouldn’t— couldn’t— understand what Seungmin was going through. Seungmin knew if he tried to explain, Hyunjin would do his very best to put himself in Seungmin’s shoes; but Seungmin didn’t have the energy to explain the intricacy of the trans experience. And he definitely didn’t want to put that burden of knowledge onto Hyunjin. This was Seungmin’s problem and Seungmin’s problem alone.

A knock sounded on the door after maybe half an hour of the silence. Hyunjin pulled away slowly and, without even checking with Seungmin first, spoke up.

“Come in, please,” Hyunjin called out.

With tears still stinging his eyes, Seungmin watched as the door slowly creaked open and Chan looked inside. He saw Chan deflate, worry etching his face, his hands clenching and relaxing as if he wanted to pull Seungmin into them. Seungmin looked away and pulled Hyunjin to his chest again.

“Go away, Chan,” Seungmin muttered into Hyunjin’s shirt. He heard a heavy breath from across the room.

“Okay, Seungmin. If that’s what you need.”

The door closed and Seungmin’s heart sank. It had been days, weeks probably, since Chan had called him by his full name and not some nickname or petname, especially in that emotionless tone. Had he upset Chan? Fuck. That was the last thing he wanted.

He pulled away from Hyunjin and wiped his face with his sleeves. He was grateful that Hyunjin didn’t comment on it.

“Don’t you need to go to that party?” Seungmin sniffed.

“I’d rather be fashionably late.” Hyunjin tossed his hair over his shoulder, sassy, smiling. A laugh fought its way out of Seungmin’s throat. Hyunjin smiled wider.

They sat in comfortable silence for another long while; Seungmin pulled out his laptop and worked on an essay for one of his classes and Hyunjin pulled out his sketchbook and sketched away.

Seungmin glanced over Hyunjin’s shoulder at some point, bored out of his mind. Both pages of Hyunjin’s open sketchbook were filled with nearly photorealistic drawings of Jeongin. He looked beautiful.

Seungmin looked away as tears filled his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry again.

Hyunjin seemed to also get bored and he pulled out his phone to check the time. “Ah,” he hissed, packing away his sketchbook. “I should head out. If I hang out for a while longer, I won’t get there until the party’s over.”

Seungmin chuckled and shut his laptop. “Yeah. You should go. Thanks for spending time with me.”

“Of course. Anytime, okay?” Hyunjin pulled Seungmin up out of bed and hugged him tight. “I’m always here,” he whispered.

Seungmin hugged back. “I know. Thank you.”

Only then did they leave Seungmin’s room, after hours of talking then hugging then silence. As soon as Hyunjin opened the door and stepped out, an overwhelming scent nearly knocked Seungmin to his feet.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies filled his nose— and he knew that exact scent, he knew that exact recipe. It was Felix’s.

They found Chan in the kitchen, his back turned, lifting a full cookie sheet out of the oven. Hyunjin swooned and instantly appeared at Chan’s side.

“Oh, they smell so good, can I have some?” Hyunjin stood at a safe distance, but was nearly jumping in place.

Chan chuckled. He turned around, set the hot tray on the cooling rack, and made eye contact with Seungmin. Seungmin instantly broke it and looked down; down to the soft pink apron Chan had on, “Kiss The Cook” written on it.

It was silly how easily Seungmin had cried so many times that day. And how he started tearing up at something just for the sake of its color. Chan probably hadn’t thought twice about how the apron was pink. He probably hadn’t thought once about being in the kitchen and baking and how that was the role of a woman; or, at least, that was what Seungmin’s father had ingrained into him.

“You can absolutely have some, Hyunjin.” Seungmin wiped his eyes as he watched Chan reach for a sealed Tupperware and handed it to Hyunjin. “I already made a batch for you.”

“Thank you!” Hyunjin took it and hugged Chan tight. Chan barely reciprocated the hug, just patting Hyunjin on the back.

“You’re welcome,” Chan hummed and stepped away. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”

“Yes, yes, okay, thank you.” Hyunjin took his box of cookies and waved goodbye to Seungmin. “Thank you too, Minnie. Call me, okay?”

Seungmin nodded and fought back the lump in his throat. “Okay. Bye, Hyune.”

He watched as Hyunjin left, opened the door, and shut it behind him. He didn’t stop looking at the door until Chan cleared his throat. Then, slowly, he trailed his eyes across the room and settled on the cookies on the counter.

There were dozens and dozens of picture-perfect cookies on several pans, cooling; a plate of three cookies was pushed across the kitchen island towards him.

“They’re better now.” Chan’s voice was soft, gentle. Like if he raised his voice even slightly, Seungmin would bolt. Like Seungmin was a deer caught in Chan’s headlights. “I think I used salt instead of sugar last time,” Chan whispered, a slight chuckle. “I promise I didn’t this time.”

Seungmin struggled to choke back the sob climbing his throat at an alarmingly fast pace. He tore his eyes away from the cookies and left the room as quickly as he could.

It was futile to lock the door behind him, but he did it anyway. He knew Chan would slip in later that night. But he locked the door behind him regardless.

And it was futile to try to sleep alone. Tossing and turning and forcing himself to lay on his back to stare up at the ceiling. It was useless to try to sleep without Chan’s arms around him.

He didn’t even flinch when he felt the bed dip beside him, he didn’t blink as Chan’s arms found their place wrapped around his waist.

“I lock the door for a reason, Chan.”

“I know.” Chan rested his head on Seungmin’s shoulder. “But I also know you need me even when you pretend you don’t.”

Seungmin didn’t respond. He stayed as still as possible. Chan traced patterns into his skin, hands just barely under Seungmin’s shirt. He focused on his breathing, slowed it down, and closed his eyes.

Years ago, before he’d left for Europe, Felix had told him once that he had a weird habit right before falling asleep. That in the moment as he slipped unconscious, his body would tremble, and then he’d start snoring ever so slightly. That was how Felix would know he was asleep for sure.

So Seungmin tried to copy it. He shivered very, very slightly; then opened his mouth to breathe out a little heavier. Chan’s hands instantly stopped moving under his shirt. They pulled Seungmin’s shirt down to cover his stomach before pulling him closer, securely to Chan’s chest.

It worked.

Seungmin prayed his heart beating a million miles a minute didn’t give his consciousness away. Chan kissed the side of Seungmin’s neck and nudged his nose against the underside of Seungmin’s chin.

“I love you,” Chan whispered. “I love you more than anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll do anything for you, you know that, right? You’re my baby. My one and only.”

A tear rolled down Seungmin’s cheek— he had to hold back the sigh of relief that it was the cheek Chan couldn’t see. He shifted to rub it against the pillow, to wipe it away. He felt Chan hold his breath. Fuck.

He pretended to snore again and Chan started to breathe again.

“I’m worried about you, puppy.” Chan’s hand on Seungmin’s waist clenched, his shirt grew tight as Chan pulled on it. The pillow grew increasingly damp underneath Seungmin’s cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong when you’re ready, okay?”

Seungmin wasn’t sure if Chan knew he was faking it or not.

Seungmin wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Why do we never run

Before our chance was gone?

Notes:

"son of nyx”— hozier

thank you as always to @myshipshurtme for being my dedicated beta reader and catching all the mistakes my eyes gloss over !! i don't know what i'd do without you 💗💚 check out her work here !

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