Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are nights where Seeun feels like his skin is going to peel open, like if he breathes too hard or thinks just a bit too long, something underneath his skin will rip through him. He’s been trying to get better about it, to not get so angry, to not snap, to not fall into that twisted place in his gut that feels like something’s rotten inside of him. But it’s hard when everything he touches burns him with shame. 

Yechan laughs at something dumb Yujun says from across the practice room and Seeun looks away like it burns. It’s not anything special, not one of those giggles Yechan saves for inside jokes, or soft teasing. It’s loud and kind of ugly, but full of real joy. It makes Seeun want to claw his ears out. 

Because everytime Yechan smiles like that, Seeun feels his chest clench with something far too familiar. Whenever Yechan brushes his hand while passing him something, or slings an arm around his shoulders, or leans in too close, Seeun feels like he’s drowning. Because he knows what it means, he’s not fucking stupid. But he wishes he was. 

God, he wishes more than anything that he could just shut it off, just look at Yechan and feel nothing. Just laugh along with whatever jokes and mean it. Or even better- he wished he liked girls. He’s tried. He still tries. Still sometimes scrolls through social media or finds himself on random pornsites like he’s supposed to be studying for a test. Watching, rewatching, trying to convince himself that maybe this time he’ll feel something. 

But it’s nothing. Always nothing, like he’s just watching a random drama with the door locked.

And then the next morning Yechan says something a little too sweet, a little too well thought, and everything comes flooding back. SIckening and slow and so humiliating it burns in his throat. 

Back at Pledis, things were simpler, because he was just angry all the time. There was no space to talk about feelings. Not when the staff there had eyes everywhere. No room for softness, for moments where people looked at you too long or touched you too kindly. 

The trainees were too tired, too starved, too desperate to debut. Everything there was about survival, hardly any connections made. 

He’d punched a mirror once in the practice rooms, then promptly had to lie about how it broke. Said he’d accidentally fallen into it after getting dizzy. No one questioned it. Trainers called him “intense,” other trainees avoided him. Except Hunter. Hunter was friendly, just a few weeks younger, a little too flirty and outgoing. 

Seeun didn’t know what to do with that. 

Didn’t know what to do when Hunter smiled at him like he was worth something, or when his hand lingered a little bit too long on his back after practice. Or when the other trainees made jokes about how close the two of them were, his only solution was to shut them down. Lie and say he actually had a girlfriend back at home. He buried the thoughts he had, deep and choking. Let the feelings die off before they get too big. 

When they left and found each other again at KQ, they’d both changed, Hunter’s gaze never left Yujun, always carrying a soft and fond look whenever the shorter boy was around. Seeun, on the other hand, had gotten better at hiding- his anger, his feelings, his jealousy. 

His parents don’t call much anymore. They used to, back when the debut was fresh, told him they were proud, to keep working hard. That he was doing something good for himself. But the chats dried up once the rumors started. Not even real ones, just usual fan jokes that Seeun for some reason found himself playing into. Getting closer to the members, calling them pretty, or babe, looking at them a bit too long. 

Seeun never said anything to his parents about it. Of course he hadn’t, he’s too far deep in his lie. But his mom started texting less, and his dad stopped asking questions. He’s not stupid, he knows they’re drifting. They don’t even know half of it. His thoughts, his looks, his nightly activities that left him breathless and filled with vitriol towards himself. 

They’d never speak to him again. He’s sure of it. 

He was fifteen the first time he got caught, not all the way, just… Close enough to cause concern in his parents’ heads.

He thought he’d locked the door, but of course he was wrong. He was just on his bed, watching something on his phone. Something he shouldn’t have been watching. Some western show that happened to have gay leads. Not even anything graphic, just a soft kiss scene. Seeun’s chest felt tight for the whole clip, like someone had reached inside and pulled everything out, replacing it with live wires. 

And then the door opened, his mom standing in the doorway. Frozen. Just for a moment before she got a hold of herself. “Dinner’s ready.” Her voice hadn’t changed from it’s usual tone, but she didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything else. But when he woke up the next morning his phone had been moved, all his pictures erased, his password gone, history completely wiped. They never talked about it, they didn’t have to, Seeun got the hint. 

Now when he looks at Yechan, when he feels that thing crawl up his throat like it’s trying to speak, he remembers that day. The shame, the silent threat. He remembers what it taught him. 

Keep quiet. Lock your door. Look at girls only . Smile when you’re told to. Talk whenever approached. Never want anything more than you’re allowed. 

He’s been living by those rules for years now. They’re so deeply ingrained that sometimes he forgets where they came from. Just feels the recoil, the programmed reflex of denial, the way his spine straightens like a soldier every time someone steps too close.

And Yechan’s always too close.

Like now.

They’re backstage waiting for their cue, and Yechan settles beside him like he always does, too close, knees knocking against Seeun’s, and humming some song under his breath. He doesn’t even look at him, just leans his head back and closes his eyes, his shoulder brushing Seeun’s with every breath. 

It drives Seeun up a fucking wall. Not because he’s angry with Yechan, but because he doesn’t know what he’s doing to him… Or maybe he does, maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing to him. And he can’t tell if that’s worse or not. 

Seeun tenses, jaw tight, hands clenched in his lap. He should move. He should get up and walk away, put some space between them, make a joke, something.

But he doesn’t.

Because it’s been a long week, and he’s tired, and Yechan’s shoulder is warm and solid, and for just a second, it’s easier to pretend none of it means anything.

That’s the worst part, the pretending. He’s become so used to lying that sometimes it feels like the only thing he’s ever been good at.

Later, after their performance, he ends up on the dorm’s balcony, hoodie pulled around him tight, phone untouched in his lap. He doesn’t really know why he’s out there, it’s not like the fresh air helps. It doesn’t silence his thoughts, doesn’t stop the feeling of impending doom that surrounds him everywhere he goes. The air is just gross, hot, and sticky against his skin. But it’s quiet at least. 

He wishes he smoked, that he had some kind of vice, some physical way to burn the feelings out of his body. A cigarette, a drink, a habit. But he doesn’t, he just has himself and his own spiraling thoughts. The same cycles again and again. 

He hears the sliding glass door behind him open. He doesn't need to turn to know it’s Yechan, because of course it is. The universe has a sick sense of humor.

“You’ve been out here a while.”

Seeun stays silent, staring ahead. His hoodie feels too warm now, but taking it off would mean moving, and he really doesn’t feel like doing that. He doesn’t really feel like doing anything. 

Yechan steps closer, just enough to lean his arms on the railing beside him. He doesn’t say anything else right away, which is somehow worse. It leaves room for Seeun’s thoughts to catch up with him again. Loud, angry, scratching at the inside of his skull like they want out.

For a while they just sit there, Yechan humming under his breath, that same song from earlier today. Seeun wants to tell him to stop, that he’s being annoying, that it’s late, he just wants silence- but the words get stuck somewhere in his throat. He should tell Yechan to go back inside, but Yechan sighs before he can, pulling his hood over his messy hair, voice small and casual. 

“Can I sleep in your room again tonight?”

Seeun turns just enough to glance at him, his heart speeding up in his chest. “Why?”

Yechan rolls his eyes, a small smirk growing across his face as he gestures vaguely over his shoulder. “Yujun and Hunter are being loud again. Not even doing anything, just… Giggling constantly. I swear, I asked them to be quiet and they just got worse on purpose.”

Seeun should say no, tell Yechan to grow up and deal with it. Should say he doesn’t want to share his bed tonight, that he needs space, that he can’t even think properly around him. Should say anything racing through his head, panicked and hot.

“Sure,” One word, just that, and he already hates himself for it. Because the smile that grows on Yechan’s face makes Seeun feel sick to his stomach. 

“Thanks man, I’m gonna head to bed then. I’ll see you in a minute?”

The sliding door clicks shut behind Yechan, the sound far too final. Seeun stays frozen, eyes fixed on the railing, though he’s not really seeing anything anymore.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there. Long enough that the sounds from inside the dorm fade into silence. Long enough that he forgets he was supposed to move.

Eventually, his back starts to ache, and the fabric of his hoodie clings uncomfortably to the curve of his spine. He peels himself off the bench and slips inside quietly, careful not to wake anyone, though he’s not sure if everyone is even asleep anyway. 

The door to his room is cracked open, he nudges it the rest of the way with his shoulder. Yechan’s already curled up on his bed, a far too familiar lump of blankets and limbs. His hoodie is pulled over his head, just like it was on the balcony, mouth slack and peaceful in his sleep. One arm is stretched out towards Seeun’s side of the bed, hand loosely curled around the pillow Seeun’s going to be using soon. 

He pauses in the doorway, something thick and ugly swelling in his chest. He turns away and heads to the bathroom instead, flips the light on low, and stares at himself in the mirror for a second too long. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles carved under them. He changes into a loose shirt and old shorts, splashes water on his face even though he knows it won’t help, then turns the light back off.

When he gets back to his room, Yechan hasn’t moved. Seeun hesitates at the edge of the bed. The mattress dips slightly under Yechan’s weight, soft and already warm. He’s facing the wall now, the long spanse of his back rising and falling with every slow breath. Seeun does his best to ignore the small sliver of skin at the base of his back from where his shirt rode up from his unconscious shifting. 

Seeun stares at the space left for him, it’s not much. Their dorm beds aren’t that big, barely even twinsized, narrow enough that two people sharing it means no matter what you do there will be limbs overlapping, warmth pressing too close. He considers turning around and leaving, sleeping on the couch instead, telling Yechan in the morning that he felt sick, but he doesn’t.

He moves carefully instead, every motion deliberate and quiet, like he’s trying not to be caught doing something he shouldn’t. He edges onto the far side of the mattress, back turned, shoulder nearly slipping off the edge of the bed. He keeps his body rigid, his long limbs curled tight into himself, trying not to shift too much. 

For a second, it’s fine. He stares at the wall in the dark and tells himself he’ll fall asleep eventually, that this is okay. But then Yechan shifts. It’s a quiet rustle of fabric and the low creak of the mattress, but it echoes around in the silent room. Yechan moves instinctively, rolling over and curling right into Seeun’s back, arm looping lazily over the taller’s waist, chin tucking near the curve of his neck. Warmth sinks through the fabric of Seeun’s shirt, his skin suddenly too hot. 

Yechan sighs, content in his sleep, like this is normal, like this is safe. Seeun’s whole body had gone stiff, every nerve ending flaring. He doesn’t move, he can’t bring himself to. 

Yechan’s breath hits the nape of his neck, slow and warm, and his fingers curl in and press against Seeun’s stomach unconsciously. The taller boy swallows hard, his heart is pounding, so frantic that he’s sure Yechan must feel it. But the boy behind him doesn’t react, just nuzzles closer, like Seeun is just a pillow or safe haven he’s used to clinging to in the night. 

He feels the familiar ache rise in his throat again, bitter and choking. It’s too much, too sweet, too good. And it makes him sick, makes him furious- with himself and the world for letting this happen, for making him feel this way. 

Because Yechan doesn’t know. He can’t.

He doesn’t know what this does to Seeun. Doesn’t know how it wrecks him, how it twists inside his chest and leaves him breathless. How being wanted like this, even just platonically, makes Seeun feel like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, daring himself to jump. 

He bites his lip hard, holding back a sob that dares to escape. Yechan shifts again, one leg tangling gently with his, his grip tightening enough to pull Seeun closer to the center of the bed. Seeun’s eyes sting, but nothing comes out. 

He stares at the wall and counts the seconds, hoping for Yechan to turn back over so he can escape the grasp the younger boy has on him. But after what must be half an hour, Yechan’s breath is still soft against the back of his neck, his hands still curled into Seeun’s stomach gently. 

He doesn’t remember when his eyes finally flutter shut. Maybe it’s sometime between the thirteenth and fourteenth minute of staring at the wall, or maybe when his jaw finally unclenches and the aching tension in his body gives way to something less sharp. 

The weight of Yechan over him doesn’t lift, but it stops burning. Just a little. It settles instead, becomes something heavy but bearable. It’s just there, quiet and grounding, the way lullabies must have felt when Seeun was a kid. The rhythm of Yechan’s breathing eventually folds into his own as Seeun lets himself match it. No fight. No guilt. Just breathing.

He doesn’t even notice the exact moment the ache in his chest fades enough to let sleep in.

But at some point, his fingers unclench from the sheets, his spine unfurls a little, and his forehead presses softly into the pillow. His consciousness leaves him slowly, finally falling asleep with Yechan’s warmth still wrapped around him. He realizes he’s going to wake up sick in the morning, that this feeling of helplessness will do nothing but come back tenfold when he finally has the rest to process what he’s letting himself do. 

But that thought leaves when arms tighten around him more, letting his body relax under the hold.

Chapter Text

Just as Seeun gets used to the arrangement he and Yechan built, the younger suddenly pulls away. It doesn’t hurt, not exactly, but it leaves him more confused than anything. At first it’s small things, Yechan stops drifting to his side of the practice room during breaks. No more quiet knocks on Seeun’s door past midnight, no more following Seeun to check on him when he goes out on the balcony. When Seeun wakes up to an empty bed for the fifth night in a row, he tells himself it’s fine. Maybe Yechan had finally gotten fed up with his mood swings. 

Still, when laughter bubbles up from the other room, loud and just the slightest bit annoying, Yechan’s voice mixed with Yujun and Hunter’s, it echoes in his chest painfully. He tries not to overthink it. But it’s hard not to notice how close Yechan started sitting to Hunter again, how he and Yujun can hold entire conversations with just their eyes. He tells himself he doesn’t care, that things are better this way, it’s good that Yechan doesn’t rely on him as much as before. 

He starts going out more often. At first, it’s just to walk, clear his head. That’s what he tells Junghoon when the older texts to check in on him. But over time the walks get longer, colder… lonelier. And then one night, he finds himself behind a convenience store, standing in the dim light of the back alleyway, pulling out a cigarette from a box he swore he’d never buy. Curiosity finally got him, after watching his parents smoke for years, after spending so many nights pacing the dorm hallways with his skin buzzing and nothing to do about the anger that’s slowly spilling back into him. After too many nights lying awake and thinking about things he shouldn’t be. 

The cigarette is bitter, it stings his throat and makes his eyes water, but he finishes it anyway, holding it between his fingers. After that first night, it becomes a pattern. He doesn’t do it everyday, not at first, just when the walls of the dorm feel too tight or when the laughter behind a closed door turns into something that sounds like rejection. When the members look at him too long, or when they don’t look at him at all. 

Yujun notices the change first. 

Seeun sees it in the way he hovers. His eyes flick to Seeun’s hoodie when he walks in late, linger on his sleeves, on the fingers he keeps curled into fists like he can hide the yellowed nails and faint smoke scent no matter how many times he scrubs his skin raw. But Yujun doesn’t say anything. Not directly. Just frowns a little too often, hesitates when Seeun walks by. The others pretend not to notice. Maybe they’re used to him disappearing by now. Maybe they’ve stopped expecting anything better from him. 

He’s out of the dorms even more now, walking, then pacing, then standing behind the building, lighting yet another cigarette he doesn’t even want. They taste like shit and sting his throat, but at least the smoke gives him something to blame the tears on when his eyes start watering, at least it hurts. 

What doesn’t make sense to him is the way everyone has shifted. The way Yechan stopped knocking at his door, the way Yujun and Hunter have their eyes on him constantly, how the others avoid him. Maybe they always have, maybe Seeun was just too busy pretending it didn’t bother him to notice how much it actually did. But now he does, and now he can’t stop noticing. 

And yeah, maybe Seeun deserves it. Maybe this is karma for everytime he snapped at someone who didn’t deserve it, everytime he shut Yechan out and claimed it to be for his own good. Maybe this is what he gets. What he deserves. It still doesn’t make it easier to swallow.

The guilt is constant, like a low ticking under his skin, but it doesn’t compare to the self-hatred. Because the thing is, this feeling, this awful twist in his gut when he sees Yujun with Yechan? It’s familiar. It’s the same twist he felt when he saw Yujun with Hunter all those years ago. Back when they’d just found each other again. Back when Hunter would fall asleep on Yujun’s shoulder during long bus rides and Seeun would lie awake at night, fists clenched in his blankets as he reminded himself that it meant nothing, that it didn’t matter. But now it’s Yechan, and now it’s so much worse than before. It makes him want to claw his skin off and scrub his body clean and scream until the noise in his head stops. 

The cigarette isn’t helping anymore. He still lights a second one anyways, in hopes that the noise will fade. The tip glows in the dim alley behind the dorms, smoke curling from his lips with every exhale. He doesn’t even flinch when footsteps crunch on the gravel behind him. 

“What the fuck- Seeun?”

He doesn’t turn around, he doesn’t have to. He can already imagine the look on Hunter’s face right now. Sharp, furious, his eyebrows are probably furrowed together, arms crossed in front of him. Yeah, Seeun can see it now. 

“Not in the mood, man.” Seeun mutters, drawing in another drag from his cigarette, “I’m about to be in, just go up.”

Hunter doesn’t move. Doesn’t even shift his weight.

“No,” he says, voice low and tight, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “I’m not going anywhere until you put that shit out.”

Seeun exhales smoke through his nose, slow and pointed. “Thought you didn’t care what I did anymore.”

Hunter laughs, sharp and humorless. “Is that what you think? That we don’t care?”

Seeun shrugs. “Doesn’t really look like any of you do.”

There’s a long pause. Seeun can feel it pressing down on him, thick and suffocating.

“You’re such a fucking idiot.”

That makes Seeun turn around. Slowly. He locks eyes with Hunter, cigarette still burning between his fingers.

“Excuse me?”

Hunter’s jaw clenches. “You heard me.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Seeun bites back, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, you don’t?” Hunter steps closer, not yelling, but his voice cuts like a blade, “Y’know- I told Yujun to be patient with you, that you were dealing with shit. I told him that you’d come around eventually, that you’re better than you used to be.” Hunter’s voice is sharp, there’s something behind it that Seeun just can’t pick apart. “But now I get it, Seeun- you never got better. You’re worse. ”

Seeun scoffs, the cigarette trembling slightly between his fingers. “Spare me the fucking lecture.”

Hunter doesn’t stop, just glare. “You’re still that angry little kid who thinks pushing people away makes you strong. Still lashing out at anyone who tries to get close. Still blaming the world like you haven’t spent every day grieving what you think you should’ve been.”

“Shut up,” Seeun warns, low.

“No. I won’t. Because I’m done tiptoeing around you. We’re not fucking kids anymore, Seeun. You think you’re the only one who's been through shit? You think you’re the only one who has ever hated himself for the cards he’s been dealt?” Hunter’s voice cracks slightly, and Seeun feels the dread slowly sinking further into his chest. “At least the rest of us try. You don’t even fucking bother.”

“I am trying!” 

“Are you?” Hunter shouts back, “Snapping at people who care? Smoking cigarettes? Running away from yourself? That’s you trying?” Seeun flinches, but Hunter’s not done. “You think nobody notices the way you flinch when people get too close to you? The way you stare at Yechan like it’s some fucking betrayal that he’s not sitting around waiting for you to love him like he actually deserves?”

“I don’t-” 

“Don’t even start with that ‘I don’t care’ bullshit, not even you believe it. You care so much it’s actually fucking pathetic to watch. You care so much it makes you cruel,” Hunter spits, and it cuts into Seeun deep. “You think you’re protecting yourself by acting like this, but all you're doing is enabling yourself to get worse. You want everyone to leave you so you act like you don’t need them, that you don’t care. Congratulations, Seeun, it’s fucking working.” 

Seeun stares at him, heart hammering like it wants to crack his ribs apart. His hands shake now, not from the cold, not from the cigarette. 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” he says, voice low, trembling.

Hunter steps forward again, fearless. “No? Why not? Because I used to matter to you?”

That hits harder than it should. Seeun’s face twists. “You think I gave a shit about you?”

“I know you did.”

“Then you know why I don’t now.”

Hunter laughs, “Yeah, because Yujun happened. And now, you’re caught up on Yechan , and you can’t handle that he actually likes you back.”

“Fuck off, Hunter.”

“You hated it when I picked Yujun,” Hunter says, his voice is softer now, but it lands just as hard in Seeun’s guts. “Don’t even try to lie to me.”

Seeun’s voice breaks through his lie, bitter tasting on his tongue. “I didn’t give a shit about you and I don’t give a shit about him. In ten years, we’ll all go separate ways, and I’ll forget about all of you, like you were never here. Just like I did with Pledis.”

“Bullshit. You think I don’t see right through you? Like you’re not the easiest person to fucking read here? Like you can pretend that we’ve never mattered to you?”

Seeun’s teeth grit so hard his jaw aches. “You don’t know anything.”

Hunter’s eyes flare. “Y’know- I know exactly where you learned to act like that. All that anger? I know where it comes from, Seeun. You think it’s a personality trait? It’s not, you learned that, you inherited this hatred. You watched your parents talk about people like you for years and you just soaked it right up. Everytime you snap, all the shame, all the anger. It’s their thoughts, not yours.”

“Don’t talk about my parents like that-”

“You hate yourself because they taught you to, you think being soft means you’re weak because that’s what they taught you. You think being gay makes you a freak, because you saw it on their faces every time the topic got brought up.”

“ Hunter-”

“You can’t even say it, can you?” Hunter cuts in, “Go on. Say it. I know you are, I know what you’re hiding Park Seeun. But can you even admit it to yourself ? Have you even said it in your head yet? Or do you dance around it up there too? Say it, Seeun. You like boys, you’ve never liked girls, you never had a girlfriend despite what you told all of us at Pledis.”

“You want me to say it just so you can get under my skin.”

“No I want you to say it so maybe, just maybe, you’ll stop thinking it’s going to kill you.”

Seeun’s throat burns, and for the first time in weeks it’s not from the smoke. “I’m not-” His voice cracks, he can’t even lie anymore. “I didn’t want this.”

“That’s the thing, no one does.” Hunter says, a little softer now, like he knows he’s broken Seeun down finally. “But that doesn’t mean you get to kill yourself over it, you’re not just a fucking statistic Seeun.” 

Seeun stiffens, “I’m not-” He stammers, “I’m not doing that. Don’t say shit like that.”

“You think I don’t see it? The way you’re hiding in on yourself? You think cigarettes are what I’m talking about?” He gestures, frustrated, like he’s trying to point out every self-destructive habit of Seeun’s. “You’re neglecting yourself- you don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you hide away from social interaction. Seeun, I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen you healthy. You’ve always been bone thin, sleep deprived, and sick.” 

“You’re shutting down right in front of us and pretending that because you’re still showing up to practice, it means you’re fine. But you’re not. I told Yujun we wouldn’t have to keep an eye on you, and you somehow, without knowing, made me a liar.”

Seeun’s chest rises and falls too fast, he doesn’t say anything- because what could he say? That he knows? That he’s been counting the bruises on his body from overworking himself at practice for years now? That he’s staying out increasingly late because he knows he won’t fall asleep when he gets home anyways? 

“We’re not stupid, Seeun. We all see it. Yechan sees it. And maybe that’s why he stopped coming around. Because watching you deteriorate like this is fucking torture to all of us. You think he stopped coming to your room because he doesn’t care? No, he stopped because he could feel the way you flinched every time he touched you, he stopped because it was hurting him to watch you joke around and flirt- only to turn around and hide away when you felt like you crossed a line.”

Seeun exhales the last of the smoke and lets the cigarette drop, grinding it out beneath his heel. His shoulders are rigid, like he’s trying to hold something in.

“I didn’t want him to see me like this,” he mutters.

Hunter doesn’t flinch. “You think he hasn’t already?”

Seeun shakes his head, sharp and fast. “Not like this. Fuck- Hunter, I just- I can’t do this.”

Hunter doesn’t move. “You think you’re the only one who’s had to unlearn what their parents taught them?” His voice is gentle, but it lands solid. “I grew up thinking love made you weak. That affection had strings attached. That love only came when you earned it.”

Seeun doesn’t answer. He just stares off at the empty pavement under him.

Hunter continues. “I had to rip that out of myself, piece by piece. You have to unlearn it, you aren’t your parents, Seeun.”

“I haven’t even heard from them since our first comeback,” he says suddenly. “This is just me, Hunter. Not them anymore.” 

Hunter blinks, caught off guard. “Your parents? But we just got back from a break- Where did you go?”

“Doesn’t matter. My parents just stopped texting. No fight, no big argument. Nothing. I kept trying for a few weeks- I sent them anything I thought would impress them, pictures, articles, performances. I gave up after a few weeks, figured if they ever saw something they cared about, that they’d check.” Seeun swallows softly, “They didn’t. They haven’t since.” 

There’s a long silence. Seeun’s hands are shaking where he’s wringing them in front of him. “I just wanted them to be proud of me, y’know?” His voice cracks at the end. He squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears start falling anyway. “They never were after they figured it out. Not when I got into the company, not when we debuted.” His breath hitches, and he pulls his sleeves over his hands nervously. “It’s like… The second I became a trainee, they saw it as an easy way out, no more having to deal with the freak… I thought it’d change when we debuted but… I think it just made it easier for them to stop pretending they care.”

He laughs, but it’s wet, and almost sickly sounding to Hunter’s ears. “And when they noticed something was different… That it seemed like I’d forgotten why things were like this… They dropped me. Just like that.” Seeun wipes at his face, but it’s no use- the tears keep staining his face. “They didn’t even ask if I was okay. They just- disappeared. Like they were waiting for me to slip up again.”

“I spent years fucking killing myself to be someone they could brag about,” Seeun mumbles, anger cutting through his grief. “I worked myself sick, I made myself so… Small, so careful. I never asked them for more than needed, I just… I thought if I did better and kept it under wraps… They’d finally like me again.”

Hunter’s silent for a minute, taking in everything. He lets out a breath and leans back against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “Your parents… Are pieces of shit, no offense.”

Seeun flinches at the words, arms tightening around himself. He shakes his head, still stubborn despite the tear tracks still fresh on his cheeks. “They’re not… They’re just old, it’s how they were raised too.” He mutters, voice brittle. “They didn’t mean to hurt me, they don’t know any better.”

Hunter’s eyes narrow, not with anger, but something sharper. “No,” he says firmly. “Don’t do that.”

Seeun blinks, startled. “Do what?”

“Make excuses for them,” Hunter says, stepping forward again. “You think you’re being kind by saying that, but all you’re doing is giving them a pass they don’t deserve. They did hurt you, Seeun. Over and over again. And you know they did.”

“They just don’t understand-” Seeun tries again, voice rising slightly, desperate to make it sound reasonable, to make it make sense.

“That’s not an excuse,” Hunter cuts in, unrelenting. “They weren’t just confused or awkward or struggling with old values. They chose to ignore you. They chose to abandon you. And that’s not something you explain away with ‘they’re old.’ That’s neglect, Seeun.”

“I’m not neglected,” Seeun says quietly, but the words sound uncertain even to him.

Hunter gestures at him, his whole body vibrating with emotion now. “Yes, you were. You are . They neglected you for years , and now they’ve ghosted you completely. You were a kid , Seeun. You were already dealing with things that most people don’t face their entire lives, and they just left you to figure it out alone.” 

“I wasn’t alone,” Seeun insists, eyes darting away. “I had… training, I had the company.”

“The company didn’t raise you,” Hunter says, biting. “The company worked you to the bone. They didn’t teach you to be okay with yourself. They didn’t teach you love or safety or self-worth. That was supposed to be them. And instead, they taught you to be afraid of who you are. They made you believe being loved meant being good or palatable. That you had to earn it.”

Hunter exhales hard, like it’s physically painful to say. “Seeun, you’re not a bad person. You don’t hate us for being gay, you still love us. If there’s anything I know about you, Seeun, it’s that you’re so, so full of love. Despite everything your parents put you through, you still defend them because if you don't, then you have to admit that they didn’t love you right. And I know that’s killing you.”

Seeun’s breath catches in his throat, the words settle into him, deep and slow, but aching all the same. He’s staring at Hunter, like he wants to argue, wants to deny it, but there’s no point anymore. He has no fight left in him tonight. Not after this. His voice is soft, barely heard across the small space between them. “My parents couldn’t even love me back, Hunter. They saw me everyday, they knew the real me. I’m not worth the effort it takes to love me right.” 

Hunter’s face breaks, devastation taking over his features. He hadn’t meant to hurt Seeun this badly. “Don’t say that, don’t do that to yourself. Don’t twist their absence into your fault.”

“I was a hard kid- I was angry, I didn’t talk much. I didn’t make things easy for anyone. I still don’t.”

“You were a kid. ” Hunter says again, firmer this time. “You were allowed to be hard. You were allowed to be angry. That doesn’t make you any less deserving of love.”

“But it does-” His voice is hoarse now, thick with tears that he doesn’t want to let out again. “B-Because I could’ve been different, I could still- I can still fix it, I don’t… They don’t have to know I’m still like that. If I don’t say it outloud, it’s not… Real.”

“You wouldn’t be you,” Hunter interrupts, stepping closer into Seeun’s space. “And I love you. Maybe not the way you wanted me to back then, I don’t think I could. And I don’t think you want me to anymore. But we all love you, and you have someone who does love you like that.”

Seeun shakes his head again, but he’s crying too hard now to speak.

“I know it hurts to hear,” Hunter says softly, “But you don’t have to sit and wait for them to come back. You don’t have to keep convincing yourself that you’re unlovable just because your parents couldn’t do it right.” His hand moves to fix some of Seeun’s hair, “You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for not being the son they wanted. You are your own person.”

Seeun makes a small, broken noise, his knees giving out before he even realizes it, folding into himself on the pavement, shoulders trembling violently. Hunter’s on the ground beside him in seconds, he doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around Seeun and holds him close. Seeun cries harder, his breath stutters, caught between hiccups and gasps. “I was so scared to turn into them- Hunter… I ended up exactly like they wanted me to.”

Hunter holds him tighter, one hand pressing gently to the back of Seeun’s head, the other curled protectively around his shoulders. He doesn’t tell him to calm down. He doesn’t say “you’re okay.” Because Seeun isn’t okay . 

“You didn’t,” Hunter whispers, his voice low but steady, grounding. “You didn’t turn into them, Seeun. You know what you did was wrong, and you’re going to fix it. I know you will, you’re not this hateful person you tried to be.” 

 There was nothing else to say, really. Not anything that wouldn’t sound hollow. “Let’s go inside,” Hunter said quietly, when it became clear Seeun wasn’t going to speak again. “You’re freezing.”

Seeun didn’t argue. He felt wrung out, body hollow and trembling as he pulled himself up with Hunter’s help. He followed him back into the dorm, he barely noticed the sting in his throat anymore, or the way his eyes ached from crying. He just moved on autopilot, numbly passing through the warmth of the dorm entrance, his body too worn out to register anything more than the contrast between outside and in. 

At the hallway Hunter stopped and glanced up. “I don’t want you alone tonight, not that I don’t trust you, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” His voice was soft, “You should go to Yechan, he’ll want you.”

Seeun hummed softly but nodded, barely a movement. He felt a hand touch his shoulder before he looked up, “I’m sorry about tonight, this isn’t at all how I wanted this conversation to go.”

Seeun swallowed thickly, running his tongue over his teeth. “It’s okay, I think I needed to hear it… If it means anything, I’m sorry too.” 

Hunter laughed softly, tilting his head to look into Seeun’s eyes who was still trying to avoid his. “It means a lot, but I’m not the only one who needs to hear it.” Hunter leaned in and hugged him, “I love you, Seeun. Now, go to bed.”

The older nodded and slowly pulled away from the hug, mumbling it back to him. He made a stop in the bathroom first, shutting the door quietly behind him and flicking the light on. The harshness of the fluorescent glow made his red, puffy eyes look even worse. He didn’t really care.

He peeled off his clothes and stepped into the shower. Turned the knob as far as it would go until the water was nearly scalding.

The smoke clung to him still. It wasn’t thick anymore, not like earlier, but it was there. In his hair, in the crook of his elbow, the collar of his shirt. Beneath his fingernails. It was in the air when he exhaled, like he’d swallowed it.

He grabbed the washcloth and scrubbed hard. Too hard. Red welts rose on his arms. He didn’t care. He kept going, dragging it over his chest, his neck, his face, again and again. He needed it gone. He needed it out .

But even when the water turned cold and his hands began to ache, the smell was still there. Faint, but stubborn.

When he stepped out of the shower, the mirror was completely fogged over. He didn’t bother wiping it down. He dried himself with slow, deliberate movements, pulled on one of his worn shirts and a pair of sweatpants, then stood in the middle of the bathroom, just breathing.

He didn’t look at himself. Didn’t want to. His hands hesitated on the door for a moment, then finally, he turned the knob and stepped into the hall. 

Yechan’s room was still, the light of his lamp casting a warm halo over the edge of the bed, illuminating the soft shape of the younger under the blankets. Seeun stood in the doorway for a long moment before he slowly crossed the room and pulled the covers back. Yechan was lying on his side, back to the door, breathing evenly. Seeun hesitated agin, unsure of his place, even after the long conversation with Hunter. But something in him finally gave away, probably the exhaustion of the past few years hitting him finally. 

He laid down behind Yechan, close enough to feel the heat of the other. A moment passed, then another. Then- without thinking, Seeun found himself shifting closer, pressing his forehead against the space between Yechan’s shoulder blades. It still wasn’t enough. He moved again, hesitating only for a second before slipping an arm around Yechan’s waist and curling into him. Despite his size, he felt small. And Yechan felt so warm and safe. 

The younger stirred slightly, not startled by the touch, just aware. He didn’t say anything, just let his hand drift down to curl around Seeun’s arm. He sat silent for a minute before slowly turning over until Seeun’s forehead met his chest and Seeun’s long frame was curled up in a tight bundle against him. 

Yechan wrapped both arms around him without a word, and Seeun, who had cried so much he didn’t think he had anything left, let out the smallest, most broken sound Yechan had ever heard. He didn’t let go, didn’t ask any questions or pull away, even when Seeun’s damp hair brushed against his neck, or even when the faint smell of smoke rushed his senses. 

Eventually, Seeun’s breath began to even out, his muscles going slack in Yechan’s arms. Sleep claimed him faster than ever, too exhausted to resist it any longer. He was asleep before Yechan even opened his eyes. 

The younger had woken up the moment the door opened, knowing instinctively that it was Seeun. Now, in the dim light, Yechan looked down at him. Seeun’s face was wrecked, eyes swollen, lashes clumped together, cheeks blotchy and raw. His lips were dry and cracked in the corners. He looked so tired. 

And even now, after the shower and the change of clothes, the faint scent of smoke lingered on him. It made Yechan’s chest tighten. He didn’t know the full story. Didn’t need to. But he’d seen the way Seeun had left earlier, tight in the shoulders and quick in the steps, Hunter trailing after him with a worry that didn’t need explaining. 

Yechan brushed his fingers through Seeun’s damp hair once, lightly, just to keep it from sticking to his forehead. Then he pressed the softest kiss to his temple and let his head rest there, their breathing now in sync.

The smoke clung to him still, but Yechan didn’t mind. Because after weeks of Yechan pulling away out of fear, Seeun came to find him again. Just like Yujun said he would. And while he’s worried about the other, he can’t help but be grateful for him being back.

Chapter Text

Seeun woke up to his head pounding, his body aches, his eyes are burning and still swollen from the night before. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, and while that would usually make Seeun excited to get up, it only fueled the pounding in his head today. He stayed still, barely breathing, hoping the pain would leave if he didn’t move. 

Yechan was already awake, hands running gently through Seeun’s hair as he sat quietly. He didn’t say anything until the older shifted slightly and let out a soft groan.

“Headache?”

“Yeah.” Seeun muttered, voice scratchy. Nothing else was really said after that. 

They hardly left the room all day, the sun had already fallen again, leaving the only light to come from Yechan’s lamp beside them. Neither of them had moved much, Seeun had only left a few times to step out and smoke another cigarette. Each time he came back he was met with Yechan scrunching his nose slightly in distaste before quietly asking what they’d do next like he hadn’t noticed anything. Seeun likes that about Yechan, he knows when to keep his silence.  

It was a cycle that lasted all day. Until it didn’t.

“Seeunie?”

The older didn’t glance up from his phone, just let out a quiet hum to show he was listening. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Seeun’s head rose slowly, eyes scanning at Yechan’s face, scrunched up and slightly nervous looking. “Sure.”

“When did… Uh-” Yechan hesitated, picking at a loose thread on the edge of the blanket. “When did you start smoking?”

Seeun blinked, caught off guard. His mouth opened a little like he was about to deny it, but nothing came out. 

“I just noticed recently- I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others in case they hadn’t.”

Silence fell between them for a moment. Seeun glanced away, and when he spoke, his voice was rough around the edges, but still too soft to be sharp. “Few months ago. Hunter found out last night, Yujun probably knows by now too, if I had to guess.” 

Yechan shifted a little, still fidgeting with the loose thread, though his eyes stayed on Seeun now. He hesitated again before speaking, voice just above a whisper.

“Is that… why you came to my room last night? Because Hunter found out?”

Seeun’s jaw clenched slightly. He let out a breath through his nose, thumb flicking aimlessly across the screen of his phone before he locked it and set it aside.

“It was more than just that,” he admitted. “Hunter finding out was just one part. We kind of had a… a fight, I guess.”

Yechan’s eyes widened just a bit. “You and Hunter fought?”

“Yeah,” Seeun said softly. “Not for long. But he wasn’t happy about a lot of things… I haven’t really… Been the best friend lately, I’ve hid a lot from you guys. Yujun and Hunter were just… The ones who picked up on it, I guess.” He rubbed at one of his eyes, itchy from new tears irritating his already swollen eyes. “But it’s okay, he said stuff I needed to hear. We both apologized when we came inside, we’re chill now… I think. Haven’t been out of the room enough to know for sure.”

Yechan hummed softly, processing everything Seeun had said. His fingers finally settled against the blanket, lips pressed together as he thought of what to say.

“If it’s not too much… Why did you start?”

Seeun didn’t look at him right away. His gaze stayed on the blanket in front of him, eyes glassy and distant. His throat burned as he swallowed, fingers tightening around the sleeve of his hoodie. He gave a small shrug, barely more than a twitch.

“Stress,” he answered quietly.

Yechan tilted his head, brows gently knit in concern. “Because of the group?”

That made Seeun pause. He looked down again, arms slowly wrapping around his legs, pulling his knees to his chest like he was trying to make himself smaller.

“…No,” he said eventually. “It wasn’t that. Not mainly at least.” Seeun let it stay in the air for a moment, remembering back to the conversation with Hunter. How he should probably talk about these things, “I uh…” Seeun paused again, his throat felt like it was closing in as panic clawed up it. “God- this is hard to talk about…” 

“You can talk about it, I won’t judge you.”

Seeun inhaled sharply, “I know- I just don’t know how to start. It’s a lot.”

“I don’t mind. If it makes you feel better, just let it all out.”

The older boy sat for a minute, silence stretching across the room uncomfortably. “Do you want the full reason, or why I just happened to start now?”

Yechan, oblivious to what he was getting himself into, snorted slightly. Not that it was funny, because it wasn’t , but because of the emotionally stunted way Seeun was going about this. So different from what he was used to from the taller boy, who’d been so good at masking how he’d felt for so long. “Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”

Seeun hums softly, he’s silent for a bit more, gathering up his thoughts. “My parents never liked me.” He started, voice oddly even despite the topic. Like he wasn’t fully there. He swallows hard, eyes staring blankly at the blanket in front of him as if the threads were more interesting than what he was about to say. 

“It makes me so angry to think about it. And I don’t even know why-” He swallowed hard, but his mind drifted, sliding away from what he was really talking about. Into that other mindset where everything was numb and void, where his thoughts felt like a shadow in his mind. His words became a distant echo to his own ears. 

“I’m angry- all the time. And then I get scared because I don’t understand where the anger comes from- I have no clue. It’s just there, and it’s all I feel most days.” His eyes were slightly unfocused, and he rubbed at them, trying to piece himself back together. 

“It’s fucking freaky because, it’s either I’m angry- or I’m just completely fucking void of any emotion. And I don’t remember a lot of my childhood either… So it’s not like I really have an answer to why I’m like this, in my head it’s just all I remember being-

“I don’t remember a lot, but some things are still in there. Like- before Seyul was born… Things were mainly fine, I guess. Couple of days where my parents didn’t really take care of me much, but that was it for the most part… But when she was born… I was just- forgotten.”

He shrugs lightly, “When they did remember my existence they weren’t kind to me, kicking, screaming… It was always something. And it just got worse the older I got.” Seeun muttered, voice fraying at the edges. “They never said it outloud, but I could tell- They knew what I was before I did. I’d get these looks sometimes, like I was dirty, or wrong for even existing.” 

Yechan didn’t say anything, just let his fingers brush gently over the back of Seeun’s hand, letting him get everything out. 

“I always told myself if I did everything they wanted… If I could make myself smaller, or quieter, or more like they wanted- they’d stop.” His voice cracked and he paused, trying to breathe through it. “But I just could never be good enough for them. They wanted a little girl- I’m a fucking 180 centimeter guy. My anger makes me loud and explosive. And I- No matter how hard I tried…

“No matter how many bullshit corny straight porn videos I watched, no matter how many girls I tried to like, no matter how many times I hurt myself for looking at a boy incorrectly- I couldn’t even be a proper man .” That part came out like poison in his mouth, shame curling in his stomach. He looked away, like just being seen after saying it made his skin crawl. 

“They put me into training as a way to get me out of the house- and don’t get me wrong, I love our job. I love our group. I love you guys. But I can’t help but feel resentment towards the fact that I’m only here because my parents didn’t want to deal with me anymore.” He laughed once, quiet and bitter. 

“They were nice for a minute. But- after our first comeback, when they noticed how I acted now… Like I was finally comfortable… They cut me off completely. No text, no call. Just nothing. Like I don’t exist anymore.” His lips trembled slightly, but he continued, even as his voice started to quiver. 

“Last holiday… I didn’t tell anyone, but I just booked a motel in a shady part of the city and stayed there. It was freezing, the heating barely worked, and the sheets smelled like mildew and sweat. But I figured it was better than telling you guys I had nowhere to go.” 

“I really hurt myself that time… Not just the stupid shit I used to do in my days back at Pledis. I didn’t just go around punching mirrors or bruising my knuckles in that dodgy motel.” 

Yechan’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers paused, still resting lightly over Seeun’s, and he suddenly felt like he’d throw up. Seeun didn’t seem to notice the tension in Yechan’s shoulders. Maybe he did, but was too far in to back out now. If he was going to talk, he was going to get everything out. 

“No- it was so much worse. It wasn’t the first time I tried either, but it was the first time I took it seriously. Not just to feel something, or out of rage, or to scare myself.” Seeun laughed softly, his voice dropped, barely audible. “I was actually gonna go through with it. I don’t even remember what triggered it. I think it was just… Remembering something and I snapped.”

Yechan’s eyes were watery and Seeun couldn’t stand to look at them anymore. He turned his head, not able to breathe for a moment. Cold fingers wrapped around his wrist and he ignored it, just like he ignored the pain in his chest at the sight of tears in the other’s eyes. 

He inhaled slowly, gnawing at his lip. “I don’t know what stopped me that night,” he admitted. “I was just lying there, staring at the ceiling. I had… hurt myself a few minutes before, and I was planning on continuing… I kept thinking I’d feel relief, or peace, or even fear of fucking up. But it was just dread, like despite everything I was too scared to die.” Seeun’s voice cracked halfway through, barely above a whisper. He didn’t bother wiping his eyes now, instead, running his finger along the inside of his jacket sleeve.

“And when we came back- you guys were so happy. And you… You were always there. You were always smiling- and you came into my room and just bothered me. You slept in my bed for weeks . I couldn’t escape you.” 

Seeun laughed, and this time it wasn’t as pained as before. “You didn’t even know and yet you still found a way to make things just a little better. That night on the balcony I was thinking about doing it again. And it was like you knew- and you came out there and just… I don’t even know how to explain it. I was so mad at the time, you were humming that stupid fucking song all day and it just pissed me off so much,” he laughed again, sniffling through it. 

“I just remember cussing you out in my head… I could never do it out loud. I don’t know why I can’t with you.” He shook his head softly, “It’s like with Yujun, no matter how angry I am at you two, I can’t bring myself to be mean to you.”

Yechan gave a tiny, watery chuckle through his nose, thumb brushing over Seeun’s knuckles now. He remembered the night well.

“I thought if I could just get you to think about something else, you might come back to me,” he said softly. “You looked so… gone.”

Seeun went quiet for a moment, jaw tightening again. “That was the last night you asked to sleep in my room.”

Yechan’s expression shifted, his eyes dropping. “Yeah…”

“Why?”

Yechan was silent for a moment, his head bowed slightly in embarrassment. “I thought you were just humoring me. I talked to Yujun and Hunter a couple days after and… None of us really knew what was going through your head, so we just… Came to the wrong conclusion.” He mumbled, “Yujun said if you were really serious you’d find your way back to me… And I just- I listened to him.”

Seeun didn’t answer right away. His breathing was quiet, almost too still, and the tear tracks on his cheeks were lit faintly by the lamp’s soft orange glow. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Seeun said finally, voice hoarse. “I couldn’t even tell you what was going through my head back then. It probably did seem like I was just playing with you.”

Yechan couldn’t shake the awful feeling in his stomach, “Do you still think about it?”

Seeun flicked his tongue across his teeth, “Yeah,” he admitted. “A little more often than I’d like to admit, but since I’ve already said this much, I might as well tell you.” He shrugged lightly, too exhausted to even cry at this point. God, talking about your feelings really takes it out of you. 

“I’m not planning to do anything right now,” he added, slower this time. “I know that’s what you’re scared of. I think talking about it all helped. That and- Hunter really tore into me last night.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen him so angry before.”

Yechan gave a small smile, eyes wrinkling at the edges. “I can’t imagine. He’s gotten mad at me a few times, but I can’t imagine how bad he got you with how you’ve never fought before, must’ve been a lot of pent up anger.”

Seeun snorted slightly, “We both had a lot pent up. Dude pointed out every insecurity of mine he could find, I’m scared of his observation skills.”

“He doesn’t let anyone off easy,” Yechan laughed. “It’s good he said something though, I’m scared of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.” His voice grows softer. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

Seeun’s gaze dropped to the bedding, voice quiet. “I really wish I could say the same.”