Archive of Our Own ^beta

There’s nothing quite like mulling over all of your thoughts while cooking. Jay spreads out his ingredients for the evening then pulls a knife from the knife block and starts in on the cabbage. He thinks about his job, thinks about his parents, thinks about his friends—god, it really has been a while since they’ve all seen each other. And he reminds himself to double check that he and Sunghoon paid the bills and rent this month, though he doubts that Sunghoon would’ve forgotten. 

Jay is in the middle of julienning the carrots when Sunghoon pops his head into the kitchen, just back from work, and he tilts his head to acknowledge Sunghoon’s entrance. He feels more than hears Sunghoon approach him: his steady footfalls then the heat radiating off of him as he hovers just behind Jay.

“What’re you cooking?” Sunghoon asks, voice pitched a bit higher than usual. 

Before Jay can answer or ask if he’s okay, Sunghoon bulldozes on, “Can you come to my office holiday party as my date? Wait, not as my date because we’re just roommates. And friends. But as my fake date. What I mean is, can you come to my office party as my fake date next weekend.”

The end of Sunghoon’s sentence tapers off into silence. Jay grabs a plate to sweep the carrots onto. Really, there isn’t very much to consider. It’s not like Jay’s weekends are packed by any means, and spending time with Sunghoon isn’t exactly a hardship. And it certainly isn’t the strangest favor that Sunghoon has asked of Jay. 

“Sure. When is it? What’s the dress code?” He hefts one of the zucchinis in his hand.

“Please, Jay. I know it’s kind of weird, but I have a good reason. I’ll get on my knees and beg you. I’ll owe you a favor. And there’ll be free food . And —wait. ‘Alright sure’ as in you’re agreeing? You’re coming?”

Jay rolls his eyes and nudges Sunghoon with his hip, partly as reassurance and partly to reach for the peeler. “‘Alright sure’ as in ‘no, fuck you, I’m not coming and instead I’ll sit at home and rewatch season five of the Great British Bake Off for the second time this month, fantasizing about Mary Berry being my grandmother.’ But seriously, was there no one else to ask?”

“Well, I asked Jake, but he has a soccer match with his recreational team or whatever,” Sunghoon sighs, sidling up against the counter next to Jay, “and Ni-ki and Jungwon are still in college, so they’re basically, like, thirteen years old, and I don’t even want to pretend to date a goddamn kid. And if you had said no, I would’ve begged Sunoo or Heeseung-hyung.”

Jay snorts a small laugh before pointing the peeler at Sunghoon, mockingly accusatory. “Sunghoon-ie, I can’t believe that you would’ve picked Jake over me! Am I only your second choice? This is blasphemous. Have you seen my ass? Have you seen my taste in clothing? How was I not the first person you asked?”

The corner of Sunghoon’s mouth twitches up before he pulls it back down. He bats his eyelashes, pushes out his lower lip, and says, “Jay-ah, I might’ve asked you second, but you’re first in my heart,” then promptly retches at himself. 

“With lines that smooth, it’s a miracle you haven’t found yourself an actual date. I would’ve thought that you’d have boys lined up the block,” Jay deadpans, tossing the peeler aside, then pauses to look at how mangled the zucchini has gotten. “Okay, okay, get out of my kitchen. You’re distracting me. Look at my zucchini,” he says, brandishing the zucchini like a sword, “Don’t you dare make a dick joke.”

Cackling, Sunghoon slides out of the kitchen.

“Wait, so you told the nice old secretary that you’re gay so she’d stop trying to set you up with girls, even though you’re bi?” Jay wheezes out, trying to not choke on his rice.

Across the table, Sunghoon nods miserably, resting his forehead against his open palm and poking at the bibimbap. “And she told me that her son is also gay and said that she knew a good café we could go to, so then I panicked and told her that I already had a boyfriend, and she said that I should bring my boyfriend to the office holiday party that I wasn’t even planning on going to. Christmas is over a month away, why the hell is the company holding a party now . Anyways, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Jay echoes and tries to suppress his giggles into the rim of his cup.

They fall into a comfortable silence, as familiar as breathing. Throughout the course of dinner, Jay looks Sunghoon up and down several times. He isn’t blind. He knows that Sunghoon is stupidly attractive, purely objectively speaking. Earlier in the kitchen, he’d made a small, throwaway joke about boys lining up and down the block for Sunghoon, but it’s not like Jay was wrong. Hell, Jay himself had gone through a brief stint in college where he had a crush on Sunghoon. His feelings had faded, though, after they had gotten properly acquainted. And now they were a couple of platonic friends, a couple of bros, just a couple of roomies. 

After they finish dinner, as Sunghoon clears away the plates, Jay clears his throat. “So, do we need to practice or whatever? Come up with a story?”

“Practice what?” Sunghoon snorts incredulously, dropping the dishes into the sink. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to hold hands. It’s not like they’re going to interrogate us.” 

“Yeah, okay, but if it doesn’t turn out to be convincing, I don’t want to hear jackshit,” Jay shoots back and rubs the back of his neck. Sunghoon’s right, not that Jay would ever admit it. What were Sunghoon’s coworkers expecting? For them to make out on the hors d'oeuvres table? At worst, they’d have to kiss a little bit. On top of that, this whole thing isn’t Jay’s problem to deal with at all. He starts for the living room then hesitates at the threshold, glancing back at Sunghoon, who’s rhythmically bobbing his head as if he’s listening to music, and Jay feels nothing but fondness in his chest.

Jay conveniently forgets about the whole thing. Well, he doesn’t forget about it, per se, but he lets it drift into the dark recesses of his brain, putting it aside in favor of working himself to the bone during the day and squeezing down an empty, aching loneliness at night. The cold weather certainly doesn’t help. Jay’s not built for it. And yes, he does have his friends just an arm’s reach away—quite literally with Sunghoon—but instead, he just lays in his bed and desperately yearns for god knows what.

Sunghoon doesn’t bring it up again either until the Friday night before, when he barges into Jay’s room without knocking.

Jay, curled up on his bed, doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone. “What the fuck. What if I had been jacking off, huh?”

“Then I would’ve chugged the bottle of bleach we have under the sink. Do you know what you’re wearing tomorrow?”

“What I’m wearing tomorrow,” Jay repeats, sitting up. “ Oh , for your office party. No, but it can’t be that hard to figure out.”

As Jay pulls on his third sweater-and-button-down combination, he realizes that it is, in fact, that hard to figure out. He had forgotten how the whole dressing-up-for-work thing worked for people with stuffy office jobs. Only giving himself a single glance in the mirror, he starts wiggling out of the sweater. The black of the sweater and the polka dots on the shirt don’t match.

To Jay’s misfortune, though, the sweater gets caught around his shoulders when he’s already got it halfway off, leaving him blinded and breathing in eau de mothballs and listening to Sunghoon’s hiccuping giggles. He stops for a moment, bemoaning his luck and taking in Sunghoon’s laughter. Oh, he’ll give Sunghoon something to laugh about. He stumbles over to where Sunghoon is sitting on his bed and purposely slams into him, sending them both sprawling across Jay’s bed.

“My appendix,” Sunghoon yelps, his voice coming from somewhere to Jay’s right. 

“You got it removed from your body three years ago, shut up.” Jay’s voice is muffled until he manages to work his head out from the sweater. “Shit, I’d toss this sweater if it wasn’t made out of cashmere.” 

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, grinning up at Sunghoon, who crinkles his nose and smiles in reply. Their legs are tangled, and Jay doesn’t care quite enough to untangle them yet. His eyes sweep over Sunghoon’s face, his nose crinkle and his crooked grin and his slightly tousled hair, before they catch back onto Sunghoon’s warm eyes again. There’s a bubble expanding in Jay’s chest, just under his ribs, a light, warm glow, and he nonsensically wonders that if he looked down in this moment, whether his chest would be glowing like Iron Man’s, minus the whole chest cavity thing. Jay’s glowy light is more of an anti-cavity. Wait, maybe that would be a tumor. Whatever, the analogy doesn’t have to be perfect.

Briefly, for the barest hint of a moment, Jay thinks about letting his head drop and rest against Sunghoon’s chest. Instead, though, he props himself fully up and launches back into his closet and his search for an outfit that’s just the right amount of festive and slutty for an office holiday party. 

He paws through his meager selection of sweaters, skipping over a thick maroon monstrosity and an ugly Christmas sweater that he entertains as an option, before landing on a soft asymmetric beige piece with cables and pulls it out, spinning around to show Sunghoon. “Is asymmetry in, though? A sweater might be too cliche for a holiday party, but it also might be just the right amount of festiveness that old people will eat up.”

He squints at the sweater for a few seconds longer then glances up at Sunghoon through his lashes, trying to gauge his reaction, and he’s met with a gentle grin and bright eyes. 

“Oh my god,” Sunghoon laughs softly, imitating Jay’s limp wrist, “you’re such a stereotype, Jay.” 

“Fuck you,” Jay counters, slinging one of the stray button-downs vaguely in Sunghoon’s direction. He tries to look outraged, but his cheeks ache from how much he’s been smiling. “You literally cuff your jeans. I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

Jay’s in the middle of pulling on his boots when Sunghoon steps out of his room. Fuck, Sunghoon looks good . Jay’s crush died freshman year of college, but his libido certainly did not. Jay honestly feels a little indignant at the lack of fairness in the universe. Sunghoon had to have saved a kingdom or something in his past life to be born with those proportions. Because Jay lacks a brain-to-mouth filter, he blurts, “Shit, you look good.” 

Sunghoon looks down, briefly bewildered, then schools his expression into one of practiced arrogance: raises his eyebrow, quirks one corner of his mouth, tilts up his chin. “Of course I do. If you had my fashion sense, you’d look good too.”

Jay rolls his eyes but smiles anyways. “Uh huh, whatever you say, narcissist.”

Sunghoon takes his time putting on his dress shoes, and Jay studies himself in the mirror, rearranging the fit of the sweater and the collar of his dress shirt, fiddling with his dangly earrings, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Yes, honey, you look sufficiently gay.”

Without even looking down, Jay nudges Sunghoon with his foot. “Hurry up, or I’m leaving without you.”

“Please, be my guest.”

They arrive fifteen minutes late, sheepishly nodding at everyone they pass by, and Jay is reminded of his days of chronic tardiness throughout high school. 

“Stop looking so apologetic,” Sunghoon hisses, as they wind their way through clusters of people towards their seats near the center of the room. Jay hardly hears him, though, trying his best not to knock into people with his ass, muttering a quick “sorry” everyone they scoot past.

Despite Jay’s concerns, they make it to their seats without any major problems. He drapes his coat over the back of the seat and drops down heavily, already tired of the entire ordeal, but he forces himself to look up and smile at the people across the table from him. Sunghoon bumps Jay’s leg with his, angling his head towards a bird-like woman with her hand on a young man’s arm sitting diagonally from them. 

“Kim Minseo, the one I told you about,” explains Sunghoon in a low voice, “and her son, I think.”

Jay opens his mouth to ask whether they should introduce themselves, but Minseo beats him to it. She flutters up, pulling her son along with her, and sticks a fine-boned hand out. “Sunghoon, darling, it’s so lovely to see you. This is Jiho, the son I told you about?” She places her hand on Jiho’s shoulder and gives him a small shove. Jay watches in fascination as Jiho jolts up like a marionette and gives Sunghoon a wide, toothy grin. Apparently Jay is only worth a flit of a smile. 

Sunghoon catches Jay’s eye and tilts his head by a fraction of a degree. Are we good to go?  

Jay thinks for just a moment before snaking his arm around and resting his hand against Sunghoon’s waist. Sunghoon’s core tightens before he relaxes into Jay’s hand, and the two of them stand up smoothly. 

“Minseo-ssi, Jiho-ssi, it’s good to see you. This is Jay,” Sunghoon hesitates unconvincingly for half a beat, his eyes flicking to Jay then back to Minseo, “my boyfriend.”

Internally, Jay groans. Maybe they should have practiced or at least talked about it. He braces himself—for what, he doesn’t know—, plasters on his best pageant smile, and takes Minseo’s outstretched hand that absolutely was not intended for him. “Minseo-ssi, right? It’s nice to meet you.”

“What a delight. I’m so pleased to meet you,” Minseo replies, looking like anything but. She pulls her hand back almost immediately. Sunghoon exhales just a smidge too loud, and Jay has to bite back a shit-eating grin, giving Sunghoon’s waist a light squeeze.

All four of them sit back down, and Jay extracts his hand from Sunghoon’s waist, feeling more reluctant than he’s comfortable with.

It might’ve been the shrimp or the nerves or the company, but for whatever reason, Jay’s stomach feels like what curdled milk looks like, so he excuses himself towards the end of dinner. Sunghoon sends him off with a worried look and a pat on the back. 

He lurches down the pristine, sterile halls of the venue, one hand clutching at his stomach. Jay’s a people person, but dinner had felt suffocating under Minseo’s skeptical glare and Jiho’s overt flirting and Sunghoon’s endearingly awkward attempts to remind them that yes, he has a boyfriend and no, he doesn’t want to get coffee with Jiho at a chic little cafe owned by Minseo’s friend. And Jay would never abandon Sunghoon in a social situation, but Jay feels ready to book it. Luckily, no one had probed too far into their relationship, though that might have been more of a result of Minseo and Jiho simply pretending that he doesn’t exist.

By the time Jay arrives at the bathroom, the pain has eased considerably, so instead of dry heaving with his head between his knees, Jay splashes water on his face and combs through his hair. He pats both cheeks with wet hands, locking eyes with himself in the mirror. Get yourself together. If Minseo doesn’t cry by the end of tonight, then you haven’t done enough.

“Fuck yeah, let’s go,” Jay mutters to himself, exiting the bathroom with the confidence of a mediocre cishet man approaching a hot lesbian in a bar.

Just as Jay gets his ass back down on his seat, Sunghoon grabs his arm with the desperation of someone who has just been abandoned in a social situation, and he hauls Jay in for a kiss. 

The first thing that Jay thinks is what. The second thing he clocks is how uncomfortably the table is digging into his ribs. Finally, his two years of drama class from high school kick in, and Jay brings a hand up to cup Sunghoon’s face, tucks back a piece of hair behind his ear, and softens his mouth against Sunghoon’s. Hey ma, looks like drama class wasn’t just a waste of my time , is the last thing that Jay thinks before Sunghoon just fucking devours Jay like they’re not in public and faking a relationship. Jay hasn’t thought much about Sunghoon’s tongue since freshman year, and now he wonders why.

When Sunghoon finally breaks away, Jay’s breathless and dazed. His heartbeat sounds louder than anything else in the room. “What was that?”

“Babe, I missed you. You were gone for so long,” Sunghoon simpers, curling his fingers around Jay’s bicep. Strike what Jay had said earlier about needing to practice for this fake dating thing. Clearly, Sunghoon is a natural. He glances over Sunghoon’s shoulder at Minseo, who looks on the verge of tears, then back at Sunghoon, who looks real sheepish for someone who just had his tongue halfway down Jay’s throat. Well , Jay thinks grimly, darting a tongue out to wet his slightly-bruised lower lip, as long as it’s for the greater good .

The rest of the evening goes smoothly: the crème brûlée slaps, Minseo and Jiho ignore them for the most part, and Jay wins a little ceramic elephant during the raffle. 

“Just look at her,” Jay coos, the ceramic elephant cupped in his hands, showing it off to Sunghoon. Sunghoon rolls his eyes but strokes its head all the same. Jay beams at him, and Sunghoon’s eyes do a soft thing that Jay files away to think about later. People around them start to say their goodbyes, picking up their jackets and nabbing a few extra truffles on their way out.

“Congratulations, babe. Do you have a name for her?” Sunghoon asks dryly as he stands up, tossing his coat over his shoulder. Jay follows suit, pulling on his jacket. 

“Of course I do. She’s my firstborn after all. Her name is Yerin, so jot that down,” Jay says primly and tucks Yerin into his jacket pocket, zipping it up just in case. He stretches his arms up and unfortunately catches Minseo’s eye as she makes her way around the long table startlingly fast with Jiho scurrying behind her.

“Ah, we were just about to head out. I’ll see you in the office next week,” Sunghoon says quickly, hooking his arm through Jay’s. Before they can make a break for it, however, Jiho thrusts out a slip of paper with a series of numbers on it. Neither Jay nor Sunghoon move to take it.

“That’s Jiho’s phone number,” Minseo explains helpfully. Out of the corner of Jay’s eye, he watches Sunghoon speedrun the five stages of the-customer-is-always-right grief. When no one says anything, Minseo continues, “Go on, don’t be shy, Sunghoon, take it just in case… Well. Just in case.”

From out of nowhere, rage surges in Jay’s chest. How much common sense does someone need to lack for them to pull this shit. And no, Sunghoon and Jay aren’t actually dating, but it’s the principle of the thing! With his next breath, he blurts out, “Wow, that’s very thoughtful of you, but I don’t think that we’ll ever need it. Have a nice life.” 

Then he latches his free hand on the back of Sunghoon’s neck and reels him in for an open-mouthed kiss. Sunghoon makes a small sound of surprise but immediately readjusts his arm to wrap around Jay’s waist, and a shiver zips up Jay’s spine. Sunghoon tastes mostly like mouth, but if Jay concentrates, he can recognize a hint of the crème brûlée they had shared earlier. Minseo inhales sharply, and a solid sense of satisfaction settles in Jay’s gut. He nips at Sunghoon’s lower lip, reveling a little too much in its fullness and the small punched out sound that Sunghoon makes. 

Jay takes a step back, letting go of the grip he has in Sunghoon’s hair and drawing in a much needed breath. He sneaks one more look at Minseo and Jiho, a grin cracking at the flabbergasted looks on their faces, grabs Sunghoon’s hand and marches for the exit.

As soon as they get around the corner, Jay curls into himself and breaks into giggles. Sunghoon pulls his hand free of Jay’s grip only to sling his arm around Jay’s shoulders, shaking with laughter as well. Jay takes several slow breaths, but as soon as he catches Sunghoon’s eye, the giggles kick in again.

“C’mon,” Sunghoon finally says, sounding as breathless as Jay feels, “let’s get out of here.”

Neither Jay nor Sunghoon bring up the kisses, but Jay thinks about the kisses enough that it’s basically like they’ve had a conversation, if a conversation only needs one person, which Jay firmly believes is the case. In fact, if it isn’t for Yerin sitting on the windowsill in their kitchen, Jay would think that he hallucinated the whole office holiday party. Instead of talking about anything that had happened that night, they just orbit around each other like nothing has changed: Jay leaves the house before Sunghoon wakes up but leaves him a plate of scrambled eggs because he knows that Sunghoon can’t be arsed to cook properly in the morning; Sunghoon barges into their apartment at 6 PM on the dot every weekday, and they swap complaints about work over dinner; on Friday nights, they sip grocery store wine on the couch while watching trashy reality TV shows.

But they don’t spend all their time together. Sunghoon spends most of his Sundays over at Jake’s whenever Jake doesn’t have a soccer game, and Jay stays late at work at least once a week. 

Lately, though, even when they’re apart (especially when they’re apart), Jay spends most of his brain cells thinking about Sunghoon. Which is a problem because Jay certainly doesn’t have enough to spare.

The point is that nothing between them has changed—except it has because every time Sunghoon leans into Jay when he’s laughing at Jay cussing out Project Runway, Jay’s heart jumps into double time; and whenever he hears the creaking of the front door opening around 6 PM, he physically cannot stop himself from perking up. He’s been Pavloved. Jay tries not to think too hard about it, instead choosing to assume that it’s just because kissing Sunghoon to piss off a lady in her fifties is the most action that Jay has gotten in a depressingly long time.

On one of the Sundays that Sunghoon is out of the apartment, Jay bundles himself up and heads out for a walk around the city because he needs to get the fuck out of the apartment to be able to think clearly. He ends up in a tucked-away boutique with a pornstached middle-aged man at the counter, who just grunts when Jay wanders in.

Jay absentmindedly brushes his fingers over the gaudy faux fur collar of one of the coats then combs through a beaded macrame skirt. Although he had originally left the apartment to properly think about why he’s been, well, thinking about Sunghoon so much, Jay lets himself get lost in the clothing. Between irritating meetings with indecisive higher-ups and hours spent compiling “market research” on what tweens are into these days, Jay sometimes forgets why he got into fashion in the first place. Now, though, he sinks himself into the flash of metallics and the unusual cuts of otherwise-plain jeans paired with leather boots.

By the time that Jay leaves, the sun has already set, and Sunghoon is the last thing on his mind. His hands itch with the need to sketch out everything in his head, and he ends up doing his best with his fingers and the notes app on his phone. It’s half a damn miracle that he gets home without causing any accidents. 

He’s practically floating and vibrating as he jams his key into the lock and wrestles open the door, eager to put pen to paper. But then he nearly runs over a body. With a yelp, Jay barely catches himself against the wall and gropes behind him for the light switch. The body turns out to be Sunghoon, who’s sitting right next to the doorway, dry heaving with his head between his knees.  As soon as the lights flood the room, Sunghoon groans and ducks even lower. He reeks of alcohol. Jay wrinkles his nose and sighs but crouches down next to Sunghoon all the same.

“C’mon, Sunghoon-ie, let’s get you to bed, okay?” Jay wraps an arm around Sunghoon’s waist and tries to bring them both up, but Sunghoon just slumps against Jay instead, his breath fanning out against Jay’s neck. Fuck’s sake, how much did he have to drink, and how the hell did he manage to get home in this state? Jay screws up his eyes and gives himself one moment to collect himself. Just one. Then he wrangles Sunghoon’s arm around his own shoulders and staggers down the hall in a poor man’s version of a three-legged race.

“Dun wanna,” Sunghoon slurs into Jay’s shoulder, “floor nice and cold.”

“Okay, but bed soft and comfy. You’ll thank me tomorrow morning, yeah? I don’t know who thought it would be a good idea to drink on a Sunday night,” Jay wheezes as he fumbles with the door to Sunghoon’s room. He hadn’t expected Sunghoon to be quite this heavy. They make the last few steps, and Sunghoon pitches onto his bed, long legs still dangling off the edge and face planted into the covers. 

Jay curses under his breath and ducks down to pull off Sunghoon’s shoes. Thankfully, he makes quick work of the laces even in the low light of the room, and Sunghoon is silent above him. He sits back to assess the situation and trudges off to get a glass of water. But Sunghoon lets out a low moan of complaint, mumbling something incomprehensible, and Jay hesitates in the doorway. “I’ll be back in just a moment, okay?”

When Jay gets back with the water and ibuprofen, Sunghoon has already propped himself up against the headboard, his fuzzy eyes locked on Jay. He sets the ibuprofen on the nightstand and gingerly sits down next to Sunghoon, raising the glass to his mouth. Sunghoon’s lips stay stubbornly pressed together.

“Sunghoon, please, can you just drink the water,” Jay begs. He’s too tired for this shit. Sunghoon takes the glass from Jay’s hand, brow wrinkled adorably. His lips part around the rim of the glass, and he throws back the entire glass in several long gulps. Jay’s own throat goes a little dry at the sight of Sunghoon’s lower lip dragging against the glass. Park Jongseong, what the fuck, your friend is drunk off his ass. Stop thinking about his mouth.

Sunghoon presses the glass into Jay’s hand, inanely pleased with himself. “I drank the water.”

“Yes, you did. Good job, buddy.” Jay busies himself with the bottle of ibuprofen. He doesn’t trust a hungover Sunghoon to be able to open the child-proof cap.

“I have a date tomorrow.”

Jay nearly drops the bottle. His head whips around, and Sunghoon is looking at him expectantly. “You have a date? Tomorrow?”

“Yeaahh, with Jake’s friend,” Sunghoon says, as if that explains anything, still watching Jay with wide eyes. Jay bites down on his tongue. Sunghoon going on dates isn’t unusual by any means, but the way something in Jay’s core shrivels up certainly is.

“Okay, cool,” Jay says after a beat, for lack of anything better to say. Sunghoon looks down at his hands, mouth set in a twist. They sit in silence, Jay staring at Sunghoon, and Sunghoon staring at his hands. Get it together, Jongseong, you can do better than this.

“Ah, Sunghoon-ie, I hope it goes well.” Jay combs a hand through Sunghoon’s sweat-matted hair and squeezes his shoulder. “Go to sleep soon, okay?” Then Jay makes his great escape.

He closes the door behind him, and it shuts with a click. Jay buries his face in his hands and exhales shakily. What the fuck. What the fuck . Well, whatever the fuck it was, it could damn well wait until tomorrow morning. He’s going to bed.

Jay knows that Sunghoon has a date today. He spent all fucking day thinking about it. His coworkers had noticed and shot him concerned looks throughout the entire day. Byungho even stopped him at lunch to ask Jay if he was okay. But it’s only when he’s plated the food for dinner that he realizes that he’s made way too much for one person. He looks mournfully from the food to the little white ceramic elephant on the windowsill. “Oh, Yerin, we’re really in it now.”

He eats on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table with an episode of the Bachelorette queued up on his laptop, and tries to not think about how empty the apartment feels.

Later that evening, in the middle of the third episode, Jay dials up Jungwon’s number. He has since migrated to the floor at the foot of his bed, phone resting on his knees. Jungwon picks up on the fourth ring with a tinny, tentative, “Jay-hyung? Are you okay?”

“What?” Jay replies, slightly bewildered. “What? Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, do you want to come over for a bit? I know you’re busy with school and everything, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and this is a bit sudden, but—”

“Hyung,” Jungwon interrupts with an amused exhale. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Jay listens intently to the sounds of papers rustling with bated breath. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

In the thirteen minutes between the phone call and Jungwon’s arrival, Jay paces his room like a caged animal. Could he leave his room? Physically yes, but then he’d be reminded of the fact that Sunghoon’s off on a date, so really, no.

At some point in the tangled mess of time, Jungwon calls to remind Jay that no, Jungwon cannot just walk into an apartment complex he doesn’t live in and pretty please, would Jay come pick him up. Jay pockets his phone and pokes his head out of his room like he’s the protagonist in a low-budget spy movie then sprints for the front door, slamming it shut behind him, as if spending less time in the living room would make the space feel less hollow. It doesn’t work, evidenced by the ache in his chest. 

He clocks Jungwon right as he jogs down the last few steps, bundled up in a puffy coat and a matching scarf and hat set. Right at that moment, Jungwon looks up from his phone and waves frantically at Jay. Jay bites down the urge to coo and squish his cheeks. 

“Jungwon-ie, hi, how are you?” Jay props the door open, wincing as a flood of cold air rushes in. No wonder Jungwon came in dressed so warmly. Good lord, if it’s this cold outside, Sunghoon must be freezing with only a flimsy jacket to block out the wind. Jay sucks in one cheek and tries to blink away thoughts of Sunghoon. Fuck me . 

“A little busy, but everything’s going okay. My literature class is more work than I expected it to be,” Jungwon answers, pauses, then adds, “and the heater in my apartment—ah, never mind. How are you, hyung?”

His first instinct is to pass the question off with a simple “I’m good,” but tonight, Jay already feels a little stripped bare. And frankly, tired as fuck. And confused. And lying has never been his strong suit. But before he can open his mouth to tell Jungwon anything, the door slams shut behind them, and Jay realizes that they’ve been lingering there in silence for too long and blurts out, “I’m good. Yeah, I’ve been good.”

Jungwon’s brows dip in response, but he takes Jay’s words at face value. The last time they saw each other in person was over six months ago, and this whole tentative reignition to their friendship feels a little too tender for either person to push. So Jay pretends not to know that Jungwon’s pretending not to know that Jay is, strictly speaking, not doing so hot.

They make their way up in an amiable silence, footsteps echoing around the stairwell. Every time Jay catches Jungwon in his peripheral vision, he can see Jungwon glancing at him, but no one says anything.

Jay fumbles a little with his key, flipping it over a couple of times before he manages to jam it into the lock, then he pushes the door open a little too roughly. Breathing out shakily, he stands in the doorway for a few beats then takes a couple of halting steps in and flips on the light.

“Do you, uh, want anything to drink? Are you hungry? I made too much food tonight because Sunghoon’s.” Jay swallows. “He’s on a date but I completely forgot until after I got everything on the stove. But it isn’t a big deal! More leftovers for me.”

Jay’s laughter sounds fake even to himself. He stares at the patch of wall right above Jungwon’s left shoulder. Fuck, why is vulnerability so hard.

Jungwon rests a hand on Jay’s elbow gently, and the touch makes Jay want to cry. “I could eat.”

“I kissed Sunghoon. And Sunghoon kissed me. We kissed each other,” Jay blurts just as Jungwon takes a bite of food. Jungwon’s chewing slows to a stop, and he stares at Jay with wide eyes but doesn’t say anything. 

“It was for a good reason,” Jay insists then nudges Jungwon. “Don’t stop chewing. Having partially chewed food sitting in your mouth is nasty.”

Obediently, Jungwon chews then swallows and delicately wipes his mouth with a napkin. “What was the reason?”

“Well,” Jay starts slowly, “I went as his date, his fake date, to his office holiday party because of Minseo, who’s this old secretary at their office. And there was this whole thing with her trying to set Sunghoon up with girls and, ah, never mind that part isn’t important. Anyways, so then she introduced us to her son, who wouldn’t stop hitting on Sunghoon even thought it was pretty obvious that we were together, which was honestly pretty rude, who the fuck does that.”

“So then he kissed you. And you kissed him,” Jungwon finishes for him. Jay unclenches his jaw a little and nods, studying Jungwon’s facial expression. Jungwon doesn’t look particularly surprised, but to be fair, it takes a lot to surprise him. He doesn’t seem very critical about the situation either. Jay narrows his eyes.

“Hyung, are you trying to burn a hole through me or what?” 

Ah shit. Jay quickly glances down at Jungwon’s nearly empty bowl and clears his throat. “Sorry, anyways, now I can’t stop thinking about him, and it’s made existing in the same space as him really, really hard. Like, every time I see him, I have the worst time stringing together two words.”

“And he’s out on a date right now,” Jungwon says thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything more.

Seeing Jungwon in Sunghoon’s seat is doing really weird things to Jay’s head right now. Jungwon has always been one of his favorite people, but Jay can’t stop thinking about suplexing him out of Sunghoon’s chair. He rubs at his temples. “Would you mind going back to my room after you’re done?”

Jungwon blinks confusedly at Jay.

“It’s just.” Jay grimaces. He knows that Jungwon would understand, but he would rather not burden Jungwon with all of his emotional issues tonight—aside from whatever he’s feeling about Sunghoon. He ends up just vaguely sweeping one hand around in a meaningless gesture. “The vibes.” 

Without further probing, Jungwon dips his head in agreement, lips pursed in concern.

Jungwon takes his sweet time washing his empty bowl instead of just tossing it into the sink like any normal man in his early twenties would do, and something adjacent to anxiety builds in Jay’s chest—anticipation, but he doesn’t know what for. Finally, blessedly, Jungwon turns and looks expectantly at him.

As Jay cracks open the door to his room, his eyes flick back to Jungwon. “Be honest. What’re you thinking?”

“Well,” Jungwon begins, “are you sure the fake dating thing was a good idea? I know you had that whole thing for him a while ago.”

Jay flops down on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows, and waves for Jungwon to join him. “I don’t see how it’s a bad idea. Besides, I didn’t have a thing for him. I just thought he was hot. Name me one person who doesn’t think Sunghoon is hot.”

“Well, I…” 

Before Jungwon can finish his sentence, Jay gestures wildly, desperately with one hand and says, “See? It’s a universal thing! It’s not a problem!” 

“Jay-hyung, I don’t think…,” Jungwon makes a small noise of frustration, fiddling with the rings on his fingers, “I just think that finding Sunghoon-hyung hot is different from liking him. And I think that you, well, you…” 

Jay rolls Jungwon’s words around in his mind for a moment. Sure, Jungwon’s not wrong. The kid rarely is. But Jay’s pretty sure that his whole thing for Sunghoon had burnt itself out ages ago. Besides, they’ve been living together since the latter half of college, and it’s not like anything has fundamentally changed over the past couple of weeks. Aside from the whole fake dating thing, that is, but Jay only agreed to that because he didn’t want to leave Sunghoon out to dry. Because they were friends. And. And then they had kissed twice , and now, Jay can’t stop thinking about him and his beauty marks and his messy bangs and his smile and and and . His throat clicks. 

“Jungwon,” Jay croaks but isn’t sure how to continue. Maybe he does like Sunghoon, but that’s okay. It’s fine. It’s manageable. Jay has gotten through it before. Granted, that was when he wasn’t living with Sunghoon and seeing him literally every day. 

He opens his mouth, closes it, then heaves a sigh. Jungwon doesn’t say anything, but he keeps looking at Jay with his stupid shiny eyes and scoots closer, gently manhandling Jay’s head onto one of his thighs. Jay breathes in the scent of Jungwon’s fabric softener—the bougie bitch—and tucks his face into Jungwon’s body, as Jungwon strokes his hair. 

Jay doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing, buried deep into Jungwon’s oversized t-shirt. He talks himself through it in disjointed bits and pieces, with Jungwon humming to prompt him along at times. Because, god, he likes Sunghoon so much as a person , and now he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep their friendship intact or unchanged, and the last thing that Jay wants is to mess anything up between them. Sunghoon wouldn’t be an asshole about it, of course he wouldn’t, but Jay sure as hell isn’t going to get over him without some kind of change in routine if he’s already been sitting on his feelings for weeks and they haven’t gone away. And Jay likes what they have, likes the domesticity of having dinner together, likes kicking his feet into Sunghoon’s lap when they’re watching nature documentaries, likes Sunghoon so damn much. He’d rather fuck his own ass with a cactus than lose what he has with Sunghoon.

Jungwon is both mildly amused and displeased when Jay voices that last thought out loud.

“Jay-hyung, I don’t think that’s the best—”

“Jay-ah, you’ll never guess what happened today—oh, Jungwon-ie, I didn’t know you were coming over today.” Jay immediately shoots up at the sound of Sunghoon’s voice, his head narrowly avoiding a painful collision with Jungwon’s chin, but Jungwon still squeaks in surprise and catapults himself a few feet backwards. 

“Uh, hi,” Jay offers, staring at Sunghoon with wide eyes. Sunghoon’s still dressed up from his date, which completely makes sense because he just got home and hasn’t had time to change , but something in Jay’s stomach still sours. And it feels even worse now that Jay can put a word to it. “I didn’t think you’d be coming back so early.”

Sunghoon touches the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that he had picked up from Jay, and jerks a thumb towards his own room and says, “Yeah, sorry? About, yeah. I’ll, uh, be there. It was good to see you, Jungwon-ie,” before making a miraculously fast escape.

Jay looks back at Jungwon, who now has a furrow between his eyebrows. “That was weird, right? It isn’t just me overthinking?”

Jungwon nods tentatively, and the furrow deepens. “Yeah, it was a little weird. Hey, hyung, I should probably head out now. I’m sorry, and I wish I could stay, but I promised I would help Ni-ki with his essay tonight.” He scoots off Jay’s bed, squishes Jay’s face between his hands, and firmly says, “Hyung, I hope you figure things out. I really hate it when you aren’t doing well, and I’m a little worried about you, and I wish I could do something to help you.” His bottom lip begins to wobble precariously, and Jay knows he has to say something before Jungwon, the over-empathetic dumbass, empathizes himself into crying over Jay’s problem.

“Jungwon-ie, I’m not unhappy, I promise. And I will figure out my stuff, so don’t you worry your little almond head and just concentrate on passing your last year of classes, yeah?” He pats one of Jungwon’s hands and stands to wrap him in a warm hug. “Thank you for everything, really. I just thought I was losing my mind a little, but it’s good that I put a word to what I’m feeling, I think.” 

Jay huffs a small laugh and continues, “I honestly don’t know how I didn’t figure it out.” 

“Don’t worry about it, hyung. It’s always hard to figure these kinds of things out,” Jungwon replies, muffled into Jay’s shirt

Eventually, Jungwon untangles himself from Jay and looks him directly in the eye. “You know we can talk whenever, right? There doesn’t have to be a crisis for us to talk. I’ve missed you, Jay-hyung.”

Jay swallows the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you too, Jungwon-ie.” 

“Hey, about last night. Jungwon and I aren’t.” Jay wrings his hands as soon as Sunghoon steps into the kitchen. “I was just going through a rough patch, and Jungwon was helping.” 

Sunghoon looks at Jay with sad eyes that make Jay feel like he just shot Bambi’s mother and sits down across from Jay at the table for dinner. “You know that I’m here if you need help, right? I know we don’t do a lot of the whole talking-about-our-feelings thing, but I’ll always be here for you, Jay.”

“I know, but with your whole date and everything…,” Jay swallows and looks down at his noodles, well, your whole date was what was giving me a hard time, then glances back up at Sunghoon. “I just didn’t want to stress you out or anything.”

“It really wasn’t that important.” Sunghoon looks down at his lap and messes with his bangs. “I would’ve stood him up for you.”

Jay’s heart skips in his chest, the traitorous thing. Logically, though, he knows that’s not what Sunghoon meant. Sunghoon is just being a good friend. He forces out a quick “thank you” before slamming his chopsticks down next to his bowl and chugging down the rest of the noodle broth to avoid going further down this line of conversation. 

Then because Jay hates himself, he sets the empty bowl back on the table and asks, “So, how did your date go?”

Sunghoon tilts his head back with a tired smile, swallowing. Jay does his best not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs. “Yeah, the date. There was a reason I got home early.”

Jay hums, and they leave it at that. He wishes that he wasn't so pleased.

The thing is that Jay is bad at not saying whatever’s on his mind. For the majority of his life, his philosophy has been along the lines of “fuck it, what’s the worst that could possibly happen,” which is an appropriate philosophy for eating week-old spring rolls or skipping school or double texting people. But when there’s so much that he could fuck up just by saying what’s on his mind, Jay keeps his mouth shut. 

Despite whatever limbo Jay is stuck in with the Sunghoon situation, everything else feels less heavy. He sees Jungwon—and Niki by extension—on a regular basis, the three of them usually lounging around Jay’s apartment on Sunday afternoons. Or rather, Jay lounges, and Jungwon and Niki study and procrastinate and beg Jay for help with Media in the 20th Century, which he knows fuck all about. 

Jay’s halfway through proofreading Niki’s essay about—well, actually Jay isn’t entirely sure what it’s about, which is probably a problem, but he thinks it’s about Disney, though he just passed a sentence about SHINEE’s Taemin—when Niki closes the lid of the laptop and plops down on the couch next to him. “Hyung, were you listening to anything we just said?”

“I’ve been reading your essay, you brat.” Jay reaches up and tousles Niki’s hair. Niki swats his hand away impatiently.

“We should get everyone together for Christmas or New Years or something else. I feel like I haven’t seen everyone in so long,” Niki says, dragging out the ‘o’ in ‘long.’ Jay glances over at Jungwon, who sets down his own laptop and says, “You don’t have to come, hyung, but it would be nice if you could.” 

Jay’s never been good at saying no to anyone, especially not the kids, though he supposes they aren’t quite kids anymore. He pats Niki’s head fondly. “I’ll be at my parents’ for Christmas, but I’d be up for New Years.” 

Niki lets out a whoop and pulls out his phone. “I’ll find the old group chat. Or make a new one.”

Jay’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he unlocks it to read the text that Niki sent: we’re meeting up for new yrs! be there or be [square emoji] . He snorts and scrolls up a bit further. The last few messages were from three months ago: a call that lasted 13 seconds and a text from Heeseung that says sry i buttdialed!

“I’m excited to see everyone again,” Jay remarks, cracking a smile at Sunoo’s reply: ????? okay but where??

“Me too, hyung,” Jungwon says as he makes his way over to where Niki and Jay are piled on the couch, squeezing himself between the armrest and Jay. Jay hooks his chin over Jungwon’s shoulder, watching him type in the group chat.

          Sunoo (✿◡‿◡)

          ????? okay but where??

Jungwon-ie!!!!!         

at Jay-hyung’s apartment ofc         

he’s LOADED loaded         

“Hey,” Jay protests but falls silent when he sees Sunghoon typing. 

          Sunghoon

          i live there too?? 

Jungwon-ie!!!!!         

ok hyunggg you don’t need to brag about ur sugar daddy :))         

          Sunghoon

          I LITERALLY PAY HALF THE RENT???

“Yang Jungwon, I swear to—” Jay groans just as Jungwon hits send. “I’m confiscating your phone! Get back to work.” 

He makes for Jungwon’s phone, but Jungwon dodges out of the way, curling into the armrest. Jay grapples him, accidentally jostling Niki, who yelps a loud complaint. And the whole thing devolves into a tickling fight. Jay winds up never properly reading over Niki’s essay, but by the time that Niki and Jungwon leave, his stomach hurts from laughing so hard, and he feels lighter than he has in months. 

Just as things start looking up, Jay’s life takes a sharp nosedive. Everything had been going so well . Jay had nailed down a weekly schedule with Niki and Jungwon, regularly kept in touch with everyone else, started actually leaving his apartment to explore the city (though he was always pulled back towards that small boutique, where he had actually gotten to know the owner fairly well), and even started to get a handle on his feelings for Sunghoon. And like most good things, none of it lasts. 

As Christmas creeps closer, Jay’s workload gets heavier. He works overtime almost every day of the week and also weekends, getting home well past 9 PM, where he mindlessly eats whatever dinner Sunghoon managed to scrounge up, beats his meat for a meager hit of dopamine, then passes out on his bed, only to drag himself up at the ungodly hour of 6 AM to rinse and repeat. It’s been a few weeks since he last saw Niki and Jungwon, and even though he lives with Sunghoon, it feels like it’s been forever since they last got to properly see each other. 

It’s only until Christmas , he reminds himself one morning, sluggishly trying to stick his legs through the right holes of his pants. He grabs the last granola bar on his way out of the door, speaking of which, he should probably get around to grocery shopping soon, but as soon as he makes a mental note about it, Jay has already forgotten. 

It only gets worse at work. He gets through two virtual meetings with overseas production factories, who still can’t quite get the pattern right despite the planned launch date being only a week away, then gets called up to a team meeting with his supervisor, who looks like she’s been sleeping perfectly fine, about needing to “really step it up these next few weeks.” By lunch time, Jay is ready to grab his chair and throw it at the window. Instead, he chews at his fingernails while reviewing the final lineup of pieces that they have to confirm this afternoon. Jay is not at all satisfied with the designs, but there’s not a whole lot he can do at this point, so he sends it off as it is and does his best to put it out of his mind. If the client doesn’t like it, then, well, Jay can deal with that when he’s not running on five hours of sleep and two cups of Niki’s patented drink: Red Bull mixed with a shot of espresso and a dash blue Gatorade for flavor. 

He manages to completely empty his email inbox before heading out for the night, waving goodbye to the madmen who are staying behind. To add onto his already shitty day, the subway is delayed, and Jay gets out one stop early and walks the rest of the way home through the blueblack cold. 

As expected, the lights of their apartment are on, and Jay tosses his bag onto the couch on his way to the kitchen. All he wants is to crash on his bed, but he has just enough common sense to cajole his body into eating something. 

Jay’s already bone-tired when sees Sunghoon’s socks left in the kitchen, and an illogical, burning anger fills him.

“Sunghoon,” he hollers down the hallway. “Why the fuck are your socks in the kitchen?”

Sunghoon rounds the corner into the kitchen, dressed in a ratty sweatshirt and pajama pants, rubbing at his eyes. “What are you yelling about?”

“Your socks ,” Jay snaps, pointing at said socks. Sunghoon squints at him, gaze flickering between the offending socks and Jay, and the rage in his chest recedes a little to make room for embarrassment.

“My socks?” Sunghoon repeats, as if he can’t quite believe what Jay just said. “My socks . Okay. What the fuck has been going on with you?”

“You know that I’ve been busy with work,” Jay shoots back. “The least you could do is not to make a mess of the apartment when I’m gone.”

“They’re just a pair of socks, Jay, oh my god . Besides, it’s not like you even have to work. You could survive off of your parents’ savings. Your children could survive off of your parents’ savings. What’s the point?”

Jay bristles. He knows that his parents’ wealth has helped him get to where he is, and normally he doesn’t care about his friends joking about how he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. But tonight, Sunghoon’s words get under his skin. The rational part of his brain tells him to apologize for yelling at Sunghoon about socks of all things and go the fuck to bed. Jay takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out evenly. “It’s what I love.”

“Doesn’t fucking seem like it,” Sunghoon mutters under his breath. 

Without thinking, Jay blurts, “Like you’d know anything about pursuing what you love. Finance, huh?” And as soon as the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could swallow them back then pitch himself out of the window. Ice skating has always been a touchy subject after Sunghoon’s injury, and Jay feels like the world's biggest asshole. “Sunghoon, fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Something shutters in Sunghoon’s face, and he pivots and storms back into his room. 

Jay closes his eyes. God, what’s wrong with him. He paces around the living room then slinks up to Sunghoon’s door, tentatively giving it a gentle knock. “I’m really sorry, Sunghoon. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, and I shouldn’t have said it. Can we talk tomorrow?”

Sunghoon doesn’t answer, and Jay goes to bed feeling even worse than he did when he first got home.

Next morning, Jay emails his supervisor to let her know that he’s getting to work late, research reports and fabric decisions be damned. Some other poor sucker can cover for him. Instead, he scrambles four eggs and paces around the kitchen, waiting for Sunghoon to wake up. Jay sits down in his chair, immediately stands up, then walks into the living room just to circle back into the kitchen and plop back down on the chair, rehearsing his apology. Hello, Jay here. I’m really sorry I was a complete fucking asshole to you yesterday, and you’ve been super understanding despite how shitty I’ve been acting over the past week. What I said was really messed up, and you have every right to be angry at me.

“Jay? What’re you still doing at home?” Sunghoon croaks. Jay shoots up, chair skittering out behind him. 

“Sunghoon, hi,” Jay starts. He forgets everything that he had gone over just 30 seconds before, and he just ends up staring at Sunghoon blankly. 

“Uh?” Sunghoon asks, glancing between Jay and the scrambled eggs on the table, and Jay’s soul snaps back into his body.

“I’m really sorry about last night. I said some really shitty things and,” Jay takes a deep breath and forces himself to look Sunghoon in the eye. “And you have every right to be upset. Also the scrambled eggs are for you.”

Sunghoon’s still looking at him like he’s sprouted horns, and Jay swallows thickly. “Sunghoon?”

“Right, yes. Thanks?” Sunghoon touches the back of his neck, and as he walks towards the table, Jay’s heart rate picks up like he’s a 7th grade boy whose crush just asked to borrow a pencil from him. Ah shit, not this again. Sunghoon sits across the table from Jay and pulls the eggs towards himself. Jay deflates, sitting back down.

“The eggs are good,” Sunghoon offers before a sticky silence falls over them once more. What does that even mean ? Did he mean it literally, or was it meant to be some metaphor about him accepting Jay’s apology? Sunghoon’s about halfway through the eggs when Jay can’t take it anymore and makes for the front door. 

“Jay, wait.”

He swivels around to find Sunghoon fiddling with his fork.

“There’s. We’re, my workplace that is, we’re doing something after New Year’s. Would you…”

Jay readjusts the strap of the bag over his shoulder, trying to look casual. “Sure, I can show up as your fake date again. No big deal, yeah?” Then he marches through the front door, praying that Sunghoon can’t hear his heartbeat. No big deal, yeah? Way to sound like a loser, Jongseong.

“Jay-ah, can we talk?” Sunghoon asks as soon as Jay gets through the door, which is one hell of a way to get greeted. Jay scans Sunghoon’s face, trying to search for any hint of resentment, but Sunghoon mostly looks like he’s dreading something. He angles his head to the couch and jokes, “Do you need help burying a body or something? I’ll buy you a round of drinks if the body is Minseo’s.”

Sunghoon’s mouth quirks up, and his shoulders loosen a little, and he follows Jay to the couch. Jay settles down with one foot tucked under the opposite thigh, mind racing through all of the possible reasons Sunghoon might want to sit and talk. For a brief, hysterical moment, Jay wonders if Sunghoon is about to confess his undying love for Jay. 

“This morning,” Sunghoon starts then stops, working his jaw. 

Jay winces. “Yeah, I’m sorry about what I said. It was totally out of line, and—”

“That’s not it,” Sunghoon interrupts quickly, flapping his hands as if to wave off whatever additional apologies were about to come out of Jay’s mouth. “I actually wanted to, ah never mind. Are you—are you doing okay?”

Taken-aback at the sudden change of topic, Jay just blurts the simplest version of the truth. “No, but I think I will be.”

“Oh. That’s good. Well, it’s not good that you’re not doing okay, but it’s good that it’s a short term thing.” Sunghoon grimaces, opens his mouth, closes it, grits his teeth, and reopens his mouth. “You should. Take better care of yourself.”

The words sound stilted, as if he’s reading from a script, and Jay can’t help but crack a smile. “Yeah, is that what Jake told you to tell me?”

“I’m trying my best.” Sunghoon complains, throwing his feet onto Jay’s lap. Jay’s hands automatically fly down, and he mindlessly rubs at Sunghoon’s ankles with his thumbs. “We’ve never done this,” Sunghoon gestures between them, “kind of thing before.”

“You’re doing a great job, sweetheart.” 

“Thanks, fuck you.”

A beat.

“But seriously, Jay. You really should take better care of yourself. I know the holiday season is always a little hectic for you at work, but that fucking concoction that Niki came up with is not it.”

Since Jay’s conversation with Sunghoon, things between them have felt more relaxed. Jay’s crush, for lack of a better word, hasn’t necessarily faded, but rather than his cheeks warming every time that Sunghoon is within vision, it’s more of an overwhelming feeling of affection whenever Sunghoon does literally anything. For fuck’s sake, Sunghoon yawned the other day, and Jay’s first thought was how much he wanted to kiss him and live out the rest of their lives together in a quaint little cottage in Norway. Less blushing and tripping over his words but more gay yearning: a wash at the end of the day. 

Things at work haven’t necessary gotten better, per se, but Jay has definitely gotten better at giving less of a fuck, and frankly, it’s doing wonders for his hairline. He still stays late on days he has to, both for his own work and for whoever needs help because while he’s not officially project leader, they sure as hell aren’t going to get anything done if he doesn’t take the lead. And despite all of Jay’s earlier panic and stress, everything turns out okay. They research what they need to research and deliver what they need to deliver. On their last Friday in the office before their weeklong break, they throw a cute little party with lots of booze, and Jay gets sufficiently drunk enough that he’s forgotten how much work has made him want to cry over the past two weeks. 

By the end of the party, Jay is just sober enough to recognize that he’ll be a safety hazard if he tries to get home by himself in the dark, so he sits himself down on the sidewalk right outside the office building and dials Jungwon because Jungwon will know what to do. He breathes out and watches his breath travel up and dissipate among the glow of streetlights.

“Jungwoooon-ie, it’s your favorite hyung,” Jay calls as soon as Jungwon picks up. 

“Jay-ah, I hate to break it to you, but I’m neither Jungwon nor are you my hyung,” a warm voice floats over the phone.

“Heeseung-hyung,” Jay shouts excitedly into the receiver then frowns. “Wait, did I dial the wrong number then?”

“Nah, Jungwon-ie is just a little preoccupied right now, but he’s coming now. Why’re you calling?” 

Jay picks at the laces of his shoes. “I’m druuunk.”

“Uh, okay, give me a second.” Then mumbling. “Okay, Jay-ah. Can you stay put? We’ll get you home, alright?”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Jay informs him patiently. Heeseung and Jungwon stay on the phone with Jay, chattering about Christmas plans, and ah shit, Jay still needs to buy Christmas gifts. Some time during the call, white, fat flakes of snow begin to fall around Jay, and he leans back to catch one with his mouth.

“There you are.” 

Jay stands and turns around to find Sunghoon standing behind him, wrapped in a peacoat and a hat jammed messily on his head.

“You aren’t Heeseung-hyung,” he says dumbly. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” Sunghoon throws an arm over Jay’s shoulders, and Jay leans into him easily. 

“I’m not disappointed. You’re very pretty,” Jay tells Sunghoon because he is . Standing under the glow of the streetlights and decorated by picture-perfect snowflakes, Sunghoon looks fucking ethereal.

“Thanks, I know. Wow, when Heeseung-hyung said you were drunk, I didn’t think he’d mean—”

“White-girl wasted?” Jay interjects helpfully. Sunghoon smiles softly at Jay, and god, it would be so easy to lean in just a bit further and kiss him, but by some miracle, the one sober brain cell occupying Jay head yanks him back like a dog on a leash. Instead, he settles with the weight of Sunghoon’s arm over his shoulders and the campfire-warmth in his chest.

Within a few whirlwind days, Jay has bought all of his Christmas gifts and packed lightly to visit his parents. He hands Jungwon and Niki their gifts on the last Sunday before Christmas: the highest-rated duvet he could get his hands on for Jungwon since the heater in his apartment broke (he didn’t tell Jay for weeks , that fucker) and tickets to a SHINee concert for Niki. Both of them protest furiously, but Jay refuses to take the gifts back. He has the money—why not spend it on his friends? 

The morning that Jay is set to leave, he wraps Sunghoon’s gift to leave under their three-foot-tall makeshift Christmas tree and writes a short note to go along with it. 

Dear Sunghoon, Hey Bestie, Sunghoon-ie, 

Merry Christmas! I hope you’ve had a good couple of days without me. I’ll keep this short because I have a train to catch. Tell your sister and parents and Gaeul that I say hi. Thank you for everything :) and I hope you like the gift!

Love, Sincerely, Your Friend,  

Jay

Jay rereads the card for the third time. It’s not terribly heartfelt but at least he isn’t outright revealing his feelings. Just the right amount of polite neutrality. He slides it into an envelope and drops the wrapped gift off under the tree. He had bought Sunghoon a necklace from the boutique down the street, one with a delicate silver chain and a compass pendant that had caught Jay’s eye. Then he had spent the following days thinking about Sunghoon wearing nothing but the necklace, so he feels a little weird giving it to him now, but the necklace was expensive, and Jay doesn’t like wasting money.

Sunghoon’s still asleep right now, so Jay shoots him a text telling him that he’s leaving then heads out with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Jay enjoys living with Sunghoon in the small apartment they’ve made a home out of, but there’s nothing quite like being back at his parents’ house. His mother dotes on him, and his father carves time out of his day so they can go on walks together. He can never get enough of his parents’ cooking, and he doesn’t have to mess with the stovetops to get them to work, and everything feels simpler.

But as much as Jay loves spending time with his parents, he still spends an embarrassing amount of time staring out the window like a divorcee and wondering what Sunghoon is doing. 

And yes, he could just call Sunghoon to ask, but every time Jay swipes open his phone to Sunghoon’s contact, he sets it back down and goes for a walk. They aren’t big on texting either. Since Jay left, they’ve only exchanged a handful of messages: Sunghoon thanking Jay for the necklace and wishing him an early merry Christmas, to which Jay had responded with a short you’re welcome!! that he spent way too long on.

Even though he’s only at his parents’ for a couple of days, he misses his friends enough to video call Jungwon the morning of Christmas Eve.

“How’s Sunghoon?” Jungwon asks after they’ve exchanged the usual pleasantries, propping his chin against his palm.

“Sunghoon or the fact that I’m in love with him?” Jay asks wryly. It isn’t until Jungwon inhales a little louder than usual that Jay realizes exactly what he said.

“Fuck,” he says with feeling.

“I’m glad you figured it out?” Jungwon offers. Jay groans into his hands.

“Why is it that you’re always around when I have life-shattering realizations?” he bemoans.

“Ah, hyung, being your shoulder angel is hard work. I’m doing my best.”

Jay rests his chin on his folded arms, giving Jungwon a full view of his forehead, and sighs. “I think I knew. Something shifted at some point,” he says thoughtfully, “but I just never put words to it.”

Jungwon hums in agreement. 

Jay sits back up properly. “How are you, Jungwon-ie? Are you doing well? How’s Niki?”

“Niki’s good. He hasn’t shut up about SHINee in days, so thanks for that.” Jungwon pauses, gathering his thoughts. “And I’m… about the same as always.” Jungwon stops, but he looks like he has more to say, so Jay folds his hands and waits. 

“I don’t know what I want to do after I graduate,” Jungwon confesses, tucking his knees to his chest, “and I’m graduating in less than six months. I spent so long thinking that I wanted to be a doctor, but I don’t . Hyung, I don’t know what to do.”

Jay’s heart aches. Jungwon has never sounded so young. “Oh, Jungwon-ie.” He pauses, searching his brain for the best thing to say. While Jay feels sympathetic, he can’t empathize and doesn’t have any practical advice, so he settles for, “You don’t need to figure it out right now, okay? You’ve got time, and if you need to take a year or two off, that’s completely okay. And for what it’s worth, I think you’d do great in whatever you end up choosing.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Jungwon puffs out his cheeks, slowly releases the air, and smiles weakly. “Can we talk about something else?”

Christmas is a small ordeal. They don’t have extended family living in the area, so Jay and his parents spend it just the three of them. Around noon on Christmas Day, Jay wanders into the kitchen, where his mom is slicing the rib-eye steak to make bulgogi, and offers to help. His mom pats his cheek and hands him a bowl to make the marinade. 

Jay gratefully takes the bowl. He’s been itching for something to do. As his hands fly around, slicing green onions and grating ginger, Jay tries to figure out how to bring up the topic of work with his mom. He knows he loves fashion and designing clothes, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything, but what happened in the few weeks leading up to Christmas did a number on Jay’s mental health. Jay is the type to pursue his dreams whole-heartedly without a glance back, and if that means he needs to get up at 6 AM every day for the rest of his life, he’s willing to do it. But his conversations with Sunghoon constantly lurk in the back of his mind, both the argument and everything that followed. “Take care of yourself,” Sunghoon had said. Jay would love to, but he doesn’t know how . 

“Mom?” Jay asks after they’ve been working side-by-side in silence for a while. He sets down the pear he’s been peeling and turns to her, apprehension building in his gut. They’ve always been close, but that doesn’t mean she’s always approved of Jay’s choices. She raises an eyebrow, and Jay takes that as permission to continue. 

“I love designing clothes, you know that. But remember how I didn’t call you and dad at all the past two weeks?” Jay picks up the pear again. His mom hums in acknowledgement, and Jay tells her everything about those two weeks: the bad, the ugly, and the uglier. By the time he’s finished, the pear has been coarsely grated, as per the recipe directions, and Jay needs to take a sip of water. 

Silently, his mom sets aside the sliced beef, washes her hands, and reaches for Jay’s hands. With Jay’s hands firmly held in hers, she says, “Jay-ah, look at me.” Jay jerks his head up and away from where he’d been examining her hands. Her eyes are warm and creased from decades of smiling. “You aren’t going to be happy all of the time, and you definitely will not love your job all of the time. As long as what you do is fulfilling to you, and I think fashion designing is for you, I will support you and whatever you choose to do. However.” She squeezes Jay’s hands. “However, if you feel like what you need to sacrifice at work makes you into a worse version of yourself, I would rather you live off of our money for the rest of your life.”

Jay ducks his head. “Ah, ma, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” He pulls his hands back, and she releases them easily, still watching him with her ever-warm eyes. “But thank you.” There’s so much that Jay is leaving unsaid, and a simple thank you isn’t even close to enough, but his mom hands him the container of gochujang like she knows exactly what he’s trying to say.

Jay gets back the morning of New Year’s Eve, just in time for their little get-together ( 8 pm at jay-hyung’s!!! Jungwon reminds everyone several times), and Sunghoon is still asleep in his room.

Around noon, he checks their cabinets for liquor and finds the bottles despairing empty. He’s not planning on drinking too much after his killer hangover last time, but it’s always good to have some on hand. There’ll be at least one person who will want to drink themself blind. Jay’s putting his money on Sunoo: the first year out of college is always a little rough.

“I’m going out to buy booze,” Jay calls to Sunghoon, as he laces up his boots by the door. He hears a clatter from Sunghoon’s room and a loud “shit.”

“Wait for me, I’m coming,” Sunghoon hollers back. Jay bites the inside of his cheek. This is fine . It’s just a short run to the convenience store around the block. And maybe, hopefully, not seeing Sunghoon for the past few days will have dampened Jay’s clusterfuck of feelings. To Jay’s incredible misfortune, the age-old adage of “absence makes the heart grow fonder” proves tragically accurate. Sunghoon steps out of his room, sleep-mussed hair and all, and Jay wants to press him against the door and kiss the drowsiness right out of him then browse tourist destinations in Paris together while they fuck. He swallows dryly and tries to get a handle on his thoughts. 

The walk turns out to be both mercifully uneventful and short. Jay blabbers on about how his parents are doing, eccentric people he’s seen on the subway, and god knows what else. But he clearly doesn’t say anything too strange because Sunghoon doesn’t shoot him any concerned looks. Before Jay can ask Sunghoon about how he’s been, they’re already entering the store. It’s a small but neat place that Jay and Sunghoon frequent enough that the owner recognizes them. 

Jay fully expects them to divide and conquer the liquor section, but instead, Sunghoon sticks closely to him, and they work their way down the aisle together. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Sunghoon frown at a bottle of vodka. 

“Why would anyone want their vodka to taste like marshmallows?” he demands, showing Jay the bottle. Jay tears his gaze away from Sunghoon’s mouth and swallows down a marriage proposal.

“Jay, hey, Jay,” Sunghoon says not a minute later, holding out two bottles. “Raspberry or pineapple? I kinda want to try both, but we’ve already got three bottles.”

Jay hesitates for a moment. He doesn’t particularly want either, but Sunghoon looks at him expectantly, so he grabs both of them and heads for the counter. “Both. Love wins.”

“Not day drinking, I hope,” the owner jokes as she rings up their five bottles of assorted cheap liquor, and Jay laughs awkwardly along with her.

People start to filter in around 8 PM, with Jungwon and Niki being the first two, followed by Sunoo, then Jake, with Heeseung rounding out the group at a timely 8:15 PM. Jay and Sunghoon’s apartment isn’t tiny by any means, but it’s definitely not built for seven fully-grown adults. Sunoo, Heeseung, and Niki have claimed the couch, and everyone else is sprawled out on the floor. Like Jay had expected, Sunoo downs several shots within minutes of being here and is now buried into Niki’s armpit. 

Normally, Jay would be at the center of the conversation, but today, he lets the conversation flow over him, resting his head against Heeseung’s knee. At some point, Jake suggests playing strip poker, to which Jungwon says, “No thanks. I, for one, do not want to see any of you guys naked,” then slants Jay a sly smile, that fucker.

Niki, also a few shots in, sits up suddenly and jostles Sunoo in the process. “I want to play a game!”

“Truth or dare,” Sunoo slurs from the couch. It sounds like a trap, but no one protests. 

The game progresses quickly, and Jay’s trying to pay attention, he really is, but Heeseung’s hand stroking his hair makes him sleepy. 

“Jay, truth or dare?” Sunoo prompts, and Jay drowsily raises his head up and asks for a dare. Worst case scenario, he’ll just have to take a shot.

“I dare you to…” Sunoo taps his chin with one finger, and a sense of dread creeps up in Jay. 

“Kiss someone in this room on the mouth,” Sunoo finishes with relish, dropping his head back onto Niki’s shoulder. Suddenly, Jay no longer feels sleepy. His eyes immediately flicker over to Sunghoon, whose face is completely blank, and he turns desperately to Jungwon, who slams a hand over his mouth and says, “Sorry, hyung, but you’re on your own.”

Jay desperately scans the room, trying his best not to look at Sunghoon. Maybe he should just take a shot.

“I would kiss any and all my homies,” Jake announces, about as sober as Sunoo at this point, which is to say not at all. “C’mon, Jay, lay one on me.”

Jay steals another glance at Sunghoon, whose mouth twists.

Jay must be more tipsy than he thought because, against his better judgment, he shrugs and says, “sure, why the hell not,” before leaning over and planting one on Jake. It’s a quick, dry ordeal, and Jay pulls away as soon as their lips touch. 

“Huh. I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Jake says off-handedly. Before Jay can ask him what he’s talking about, Jake turns to Niki and dares him to open Instagram and like every single one of Yeonjun-nim's posts from the last six months.

“I have to see him at dance practice in three days,” Niki groans but unlocks his phone all the same.

After a couple of rounds, they lose interest in Truth or Dare, and Jay throws on the Great British Bake Off. He, Sunghoon, and Jake have all migrated to the couch, and they’re so tangled up that Jay isn’t sure whose limbs are whose. He finishes off his shot and reaches for the vodka bottle only to find it empty. He holds the empty bottle in his hands and despairs.

Someone’s hand plucks the bottle from Jay’s hands, and he looks up to find Sunghoon trying to extract his limbs from their cuddle pile. “I’ll go get the last bottle.”

“Whipped,” Jake calls as Sunghoon rounds the corner. Sunghoon sticks his hand back to flip him off.

Jay blinks. “What?”

Jake turns to him, grinning, and repeats, “Whipped.”

“We’re just friends,” Jay blurts as a defense mechanism. Jake’s grin grows wider.

“I never said you weren’t.” Then he mutters, “Just friends, huh,” in a tone that Jay doesn’t have the time to read into because Niki is insisting to Sunoo that he can bottle flip with one of the half-finished bottles of vodka, and Jay needs to cut them off before they do any permanent damage to the apartment.

It isn’t until well past midnight when Jay and Sunghoon manage to herd everyone out, making sure that everyone has a plan to get home safely. On Jake’s way out, he pats Sunghoon on the arm and says, “You know I didn’t mean anything by it, yeah?”

Then he’s out the door, and Sunghoon’s flushing, and Jay is left to decode Jake’s cryptic message by himself.

He shuts the door behind Sunoo and Heeseung, the last two to leave, and slumps against the wall, smiling wearily at Sunghoon. “Happy New Year, Sunghoon-ie.”

Sunghoon returns the smile, small but entirely genuine. “Happy New Year, Jay-ah.” 

The morning after, Jay wakes up with a massive hangover and doesn’t drag himself from bed until noon. He putters about the apartment in his pajamas, collecting the glasses and empty liquor bottles. Sunghoon emerges from his room not long after Jay, looking similarly disheveled, and they have a simple brunch in a comfortable silence. Even Jay’s pounding headache can’t deter him from obsessing over the way that Sunghoon’s hand holds a fork. Fuck, he’s in so deep, and not in the way he wants to be.

As they clear away their plates, Sunghoon reminds Jay about the office party tonight, and Jay almost regrets having agreed to go, and his horrid, horrid brain pipes up and says, maybe you’ll get to kiss him again .

An hour before they leave, Jay shuts himself in his room to figure out what he’s wearing. He ends up tossing on a generic suit that he hasn’t worn in god knows how long and fastens his watch on his wrist grimly before exiting. He feels like he’s going off to war.

Sunghoon’s already dressed, shoes and everything, and he’s typing away on his phone. The blazer that Sunghoon has on makes his shoulders look so broad , and Jay desperately wants to be fucked against the wall. He gives himself a couple of seconds to get his libido somewhat back in check. Hey bestie, please don’t do this to me right now , he begs his brain then approaches Sunghoon. At the sound of Jay’s arrival, Sunghoon looks up and pockets his phone. The movement shifts his blazer to reveal a necklace—the necklace that Jay had given him for Christmas—sitting against his collarbones. Jay’s mind goes blank. 

“I’m in love with you,” Jay blurts then slams a hand over his mouth. Haha what the fuck. The adrenaline in his body fades quickly, leaving only dread. Sunghoon freezes in the middle of pocketing his phone. They stare at each other, and Jay hysterically thinks of the two Spidermans meme. Then he wonders if his parents would mind if he just showed up at their house and asked to live with them for the rest of his life.

“What?” Sunghoon breathes, melting out of the pose he had been stuck in for however many seconds. Jay just stares helplessly at him. Sunghoon stalks towards him. Oh shit, is he going to kill me ? But instead of sticking a knife through Jay’s ribs as soon as he’s in range, Sunghoon hooks a finger around one of Jay’s belt loops and reels him in. 

“What’d you say?” Sunghoon asks more insistently, and Jay feels bare under his searching gaze. Well, whatever, he’s already dug own grave. Might as well just step in. He takes a breath, possibly his last one ever.

“I’m in love—” 

Jay gets cut off by the press of Sunghoon’s lips against his. In contrast to their previous two kisses, this one is softer, quieter, chaste: a confession and a revelation all in one. Jay sinks into Sunghoon’s touch, bringing his own hands to Sunghoon’s warm waist, and he allows Sunghoon to back him against the wall. They part by a fraction, their faces centimeters apart, and Jay deliriously pulls him in for another kiss. Jay doesn’t know how much time passes by, and he sure as fuck does not care. Finally, Sunghoon breaks away, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. 

“I love you, in case that wasn’t clear. And we should, uh, we should talk. Properly.” His voice is shot to hell. Jay’s dick twitches.

“Probably,” Jay agrees hesitantly, “but I’ve got a semi, so I don’t know if—”

Halfway through his sentence, Sunghoon presses against him once more, mouth working at Jay’s neck, and Jay’s sentence ends with a high-pitched whine. He suspects that they aren’t making it to the company party.

“Sunghoon,” Jay hollers while pawing through his bag, "have you seen my keys?” Where the fuck are they? He could’ve sworn he had put them in the ceramic key dish they had by the door, but apparently not because they aren’t in there .

“You left them in the bathroom.” 

Sunghoon saunters up, swinging the keys around his finger. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jay reaches for them, but Sunghoon grins and pulls them just out of his reach. He leers at Jay. “Wanna move in with me?”

Jay fondly rolls his eyes and murmurs, “you fucking dork,” before pulling him in by the lapels of his jacket for a kiss. Sunghoon’s hands immediately fly to his ass, and Jay breaks away after a second, hissing, “We can’t fuck right now. I’ve got to leave. Jungwon’s going to be upset if I’m late to lunch.” 

Sunghoon plants his face into Jay’s neck and grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I put the keys in your back pocket.” He pats Jay’s ass again for emphasis.

Reluctantly, Jay extracts himself, presses one last kiss to Sunghoon’s forehead for good measure, and heads out. 

In the six months since the start of their relationship, a lot has changed, but at the same time, it feels like nothing has changed. They still spend their Friday nights on the couch working through all of the episodes of The Real Housewives of Atlanta , though with a lot more kissing and groping than before, and Jay still makes two servings of scrambled eggs in the morning, though he tries his best to leave a little later for work and Sunghoon wakes up a little earlier so they can have breakfast together. And as for work, Jay’s still biting off more than he can chew sometimes, but he’s gotten better at compartmentalizing, which might not be a great long term plan, but hey, it’s working for him right now.

He pulls out his phone to check the time, and ah, it looks like he’s going to be a little bit late after all, but for all of Jungwon’s complaining, Jay knows he won’t mind too much. Plus, Jay’s paying today as a congratulations for his internship at a nearby art museum, which wow, that came out of left field, but like Jay said during their conversation all those months ago, he’ll support whatever Jungwon wants to do. 

Jay rests his head against the grimy subway window, watching the lights in the tunnel zip by, utterly smitten with the feeling of being alive.