Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His breathing was shallow, eyes wide, and, no, he couldn’t actually do this.

And then he was looking for a way out, scanning for an exit but of course the only one there was the same door that they had just passed through and okay, he didn’t want this guy with his arms all decorated in bright ink to look at him weirdly but he had to. He’d get over it anyway.

So the blond haired male turned on his heel, ready to go out through the door but the man caught his wrist, brows high on his forehead.

“The chair’s this way.”

"I’m afraid of needles.” It came out as a squeak, high-pitched and mouse-like, and Yeonjun would’ve been a lot more embarrassed had the man's face not softened immediately.

"Ah, alright. So no ink today then?”

Yeonjun bit his lip because yes, he did want the tattoo but he didn’t want to be a blubbering mess by the end of it, but. “Any way you could knock me out for it?”

The guy chuckled a bit — and Yeonjun didn’t know why because he was being completely serious — running his fingers through his hair with a twisted smile. “How about I go get Soobin instead? He’s better at dealing with these than I am. You just sit in the chair, okay?”

Yeonjun nodded, even though he had no clue who this Soobin guy was or how he’d be able to make the needle hurt less. But he wasn’t going to question it, instead settling deeper into the chair, taking deep breaths and thinking of happy places.

A guy came into the room then, and immediately Yeonjun knew it was Soobin. He could just tell, with his inked sleeve and high hair and he didn’t know, he just screamed tattoo artist.

But something about his overall appearance was a lot softer — more understanding, maybe — than the other guy Yeonjun was originally paired with, who was leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“I’ve got this one, Jungkook hyung, thanks,” Soobin smiled tightly before turning to the blond and letting his grin blur into something easier, more natural. “M’ Soobin. And you’re?”

“Yeonjun,” He answered easily, gripping the sides of the chair. “But I go by Jun, and I think I’m going to faint.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Soobin said, and something about that was just so sincere, pure raw honesty that Yeonjun even believed for a second. He looked over at the sketch propped on the side table that the other guy — Jeon Jungkook — had drawn. “Your name is Yeonjun which basically means beautiful and you’re getting something beautiful on your wrist. Creative.”

Yeonjun’s first instinct was to be offended by the older man’s sarcastic tone, but then he looked up at him and he was grinning, tongue tucked behind teeth and wow, he had a nice smile.

Soobin’s eyes kind of wrinkled and his nose sort of scrunched and it was a big difference between the wings etched his chest, shown by his low shirt collar, and — he wasn’t expecting it, is all.

“Originality is my middle name.”

“Jun Originality,” The older man chuckled, before settling down, making sure the needle was sterilized and that’s when the butterflies erupted in the other's chest again.

“Soobin, I’m really going to cry. You think I’m kidding. I might even be sick.”

The ravenette grabbed his wrist, looking at the sketch again and working his lip between his teeth, and like he hadn’t even heard him. “So, tell me, how do you think I spell my name?”

And was Soobin serious? The blond was having an internal crisis and he was worried about him spelling his name?

“I don’t know,” Yeonjun gasped out, the needle awfully close to his skin now.

Soobin hummed, shaking his head. “No. Now,” He looked up at him then, and he noticed that his irises looked like coffee. “If you really think that you’re going to pass out, tell me. I don’t want you to like, convulse in the seat and then have me run the needle up your arm because that wouldn’t be a very attractive tattoo, would it?”

“M’ happy that you care more about my beauty than my well-being,” Yeonjun grumbled back, and he was preparing himself.

He shut his eyes tightly, and when he felt the first prick he couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath because it hurt, and a needle was on his skin, and a needle was on his skin, and oh god a needle was touching his skin.

Yeonjun tried to keep still for Soobin’s sake, but he couldn’t help the tremor in his heartbeat or the first tear that leaked out despite how hard he was biting my lip and clenching his palms.

Soobin noticed. “Alright, yeah?”

“I’m freaking out,” Yeonjun answered, and it was so soft and tiny that he was surprised that he heard it.

“S’ with a double o, by the way,” Soobin started, and Yeonjun was too busy trying to breathe steadily to ask him what he was even going on about. “My name, I mean. Soobin, like Moonbin, but with an S instead of the M. What’s a word that rhymes with my name?”

“Good to know,” Yeonjun gritted out because yes, okay that was interesting, but a needle was touching his skin and that was all he could focus on. That, and the rapid beating of his heart that was way too fast to be normal. “And I don’t know a word that rhymes with your name. Pain. Pain, pain, pain.”

“I can't even begin to explain how wrong you are, Yeonjun,” Soobin sighed lightly, like he was chastising a child for stealing a cookie.

“I don’t care. I’m in pain right now.”

And actually, yes it hurt, but not as much as Yeonjun expected it to. That wasn’t what was freaking him out, though. It was just the principle of it, of being so close to a needle.

“You want me to stop? You’ll only have half a word but I could stop.”

“No, no,” Yeonjun came here for a tattoo and he would get it, “I’m fine.”

And later, when the tattoo artist was done and the other had cried many tears. Soobin had offered him a soft smile and said, “See, you didn’t even pass out.”

And that was probably more consolation than anything.

“It’s over?”

“It’s over.”

“I’ve got a tattoo?”

“You’ve got a tattoo.”

Yeonjun smiled. “Great. Thank you, a lot — a million times.”

Soobin chuckled back, shaking his head. “I didn’t do anything great. S’ just my job.”

And when Yeonjun was about to leave, one foot out the door, Soobin popped up from behind the counter and asked, “Wait, do you know what the fear of needles is called?”

“Trypanophobia,” Yeonjun nodded.

“Trypanophobia.” Soobin snorted. “So you know that, but don’t know a word that rhymes with my name. Goodbye, Jun Originality.”

It made Yeonjun smile a lot more than it should’ve.

Chapter Text

“You’re back already?”

Yeonjun cleared his throat, trying to hide his grin in his jacket collar because, well, it wasn’t like he was hoping that Soobin would be here, it’s just — okay so he was kind of hoping that he would.

He meant he wasn’t going to be disappointed if Soobin happened to not be — Yeonjun didn’t know him long enough to be sad about him not showing up

It's just — Soobin was there and Yeonjun was a bit giddy over it is all, okay.

“I’m actually not back for another tattoo. It’s only been four days and I haven’t worked up the courage yet.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want you crying again, or anything,” Soobin added, ducking his chin a bit before scratching the back of his neck, shooting off this little grin that shouldn’t have been so adorable — because he shouldn’t be adorable; not with the leather jackets and the pack of smokes in his pocket, and not with the lighter he was fiddling with, flicking it on and off — but it was.

The ravenette came out from behind the counter, running his hands along his scruff, scruff that wasn’t there the last time, but the other didn’t actually mind. “So, then, why are you here, if you’re not here for a tattoo, then?”

“I, um, I found some words that kind of rhyme with your name.” And God, Yeonjun sounded so stupid, and he was really about to just turn around and walk out because what was he thinking?

He couldn’t just waltz into this guy’s work, and honestly, Soobin probably didn’t even remember saying anything about rhyming his name, and — Yeonjun was an idiot.

“Oh really?” Soobin stopped flicking his lighter for a minute, clearing his throat. “I actually got bored a few days ago and, like, looked up the name of my fears. Like, you know, aquaphobia, and —”

“You’re afraid of water?”

And okay, Yeonjun didn’t mean to blurt it out like that, but his brain short-circuited after he said that he had researched his fears, because Soobin looked as sheepish as he felt and maybe he did remember their conversation after all, and maybe he thought about it while tattooing a bird on some girl’s ankle or a skull on some man’s hip.

“I can’t swim.” Soobin was back to flicking his lighter again — it was a nervous habit, and he bit his lip.

“Loads of people can’t swim, s’ alright.”

Soobin shrugged a bit, leaning back on the counter, still staring at the flickering flame. “And then there’s nyctophobia, which is also called achluophobia — that’s the fear of the dark, and there’s also acrophobia, which is the fear of heights. And then there’s chorophobia, which is actually a real thing. Guess what it is.”

Yeonjun cleared his throat, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “I think we both know I’m not exactly the best at guessing games.”

Soobin cracked a small smile at that one. “Yeah, we’d be here all day, wouldn’t we?”

And Yeonjun started to tell him that that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing but the better half of his brain stopped him. And thank God, because he was developing a schoolboy crush on a tattoo artist that he barely knew.

And that was a problem. Like, majorly.

Reason one: Yeonjun didn’t know him.

Reason two: Soobin witnessed him turn into a blubbering mess over needles.

Reason three: There was no way that Soobin was single. Not with those looks and that smile and — no.

“Probably. So what is it?”

“It’s the, um. The fear of dancing.” Soobin ducked his head after he said it.

A boy with tattoos and a lighter in his hand shouldn’t be so endearing, but he was.

And for some reason Yeonjun found himself smiling, and before he could even think about it, he was opening his mouth and running it. “That’s actually really cute.”

Soobin's head snapped up but by then Yeonjun was shaking his head, clearing his throat and wow, when did the ceiling become so intricate and interesting?

“Those words that rhyme with Soobin. I could only think of three. Blooming. Drooping. Zooming.”

He snorted, “These are so random.”

Yeonjun shrugged, biting his lip, still looking at the ceiling because it was a lot better than having to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, I'm sorry. What was I thinking, these are so bad.”

Soobin smiled, eyes crinkling. “I think that’s actually really cute.”

And Soobin seemed to have a thing for throwing Yeonjun's words back at him, but the latter was pretty sure it wasn’t it supposed to make him feel like this.

Definitely not.

Yeonjun swallowed whatever words he was about to say, ignoring the swallowtail butterflies erupting in his stomach and his liver and his kidneys and the way they started filling his lungs. “Oh.”

“Yeah, um,” Soobin paused for a second, looking over his shoulder and back where Jungkook was tattooing some muscled guy. “I should probably get back to work, like —“

“Right, yeah, of course.” Yeonjun cleared his throat, offering him a little wave. “Bye, Soobin.”

“Good bye, Jun,” Soobin offered softly, and then the other male was backing out of the tattoo parlor, eyes wide and what was he thinking?

He wasn’t, obviously, but now?

Now all he could think was “I think that’s actually really cute” and smiles with tongue behind teeth and whatever this little crush was had to stop because it was seriously affecting his sanity.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun was pathetic.

It had only been a grand total of five days that he had known Soobin — known of Soobin's existence, to be more accurate, since he didn’t really know him at all — and he was already back.

It was only yesterday that Yeonjun was making a fool of himself by telling Soobin words that he didn’t even know the definition of, and — he'd already said he was pathetic, okay, because he wanted to see him again and he needed an excuse.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” Beomgyu whined. Yeonjun flashed a smile at Beomgyu, giving his bicep a squeeze as they walked through the doors of the parlor because there was no way that he wasn’t the best friend ever. “I’m actually permanently inking something to my skin because you have a little cru—”

“You again,” Jungkook said, looking up and cutting Beomgyu off — which Yeonjun was extremely grateful for, by the way. “Back for another tattoo or just to deliver some more interesting words?”

And god, Yeonjun was blushing because had Soobin told Jungkook that he’d come to unload some words on him or had he heard them himself?

Either way it was equally as embarrassing, because Jungkook was giving Yeonjun a smirk like he could see inside him and knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You came back here after the tattoo?” Beomgyu started, grinning wide and small dimples showing and Yeonjun kind of hated him right now, because he and Jungkook were sharing this look that he didn’t like. “What a loser.”

“Shut up, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun gritted back, and at the moment Soobin kind of appeared behind the counter.

Or more like he walked up when Beomgyu was calling him a loser, but he was too focused on being embarrassed to notice.

“Yeonjun, hi,” Soobin greeted easily, shy smile on his face before turning to Beomgyu. He eyed him up and down, raising his brows and eyes outlining his tattoos before nodding a bit, like suddenly everything made sense. “And you’re?”

“Choi Beomgyu, and you must be Soobin.” Beomgyu gave him a dazzling grin and was probably matching up Soobin's looks with the description of him that he’d forced out of him yesterday.

Yeonjun hip-checked him, because could he be any more obvious, but he only chuckled.

And yes, Yeonjun hated Choi Beomgyu.

“Um, yeah,” Soobin shot Yeonjun an uneasy look that only had him staring holes into the floor because his eyes were so pretty and intense. “Must be. So, which one of you are here for a tattoo? Or are you not?”

“He is,” Yeonjun offered, just to say something, because he’d been staring at Soobin like an idiot since he’d first arrived. “He’s getting, a, um —”

“M’ getting a something bootiful, on my elbow, here,” Beomgyu gestured loosely, “To, you know, match Yeonjun's something beautiful. Which is funny to say.”

Soobin nodded, tilting his head back to the room that Yeonjun been in just five days ago. “Well I could take you, if you’d like?”

Beomgyu nodded, grabbing Yeonjun's hand and tugging him behind himself. “Did you know that Yeonjun is afraid of needles?”

Soobin gave Yeonjun a smile, which he tried to return without hyperventilating but of course failed because he was gorgeous, before he spoke. “Yeah, it’s trypanophobia, right?”

“Right. And you have chorophobia.”

Soobin cleared his throat, ducking his head and motioning for Beomgyu to sit.

“Which you think is actually really cute.”

“Um. Right.”

Beomgyu laughed, actually laughed, as in little dimples showing and head tilted back and god, Yeonjun wished he’d shut up.

Soobin must’ve been thinking the same thing because he sent Beomgyu a glare that was not amused in the slightest, which Beomgyu ignored, of course, finally dropping Yeonjun's hand to plop in the seat. “Actually really cute. That’s rich. Cheers, Jun.”

And Yeonjun was really regretting bringing Beomgyu — meeting Beomgyu and being friends with him, even — but it got Soobin to flash a little smile that he subtly tried to cover by biting his lip.

And when did lip biting become so sensual?

Yeonjun rolled his eyes at Beomgyu at an attempt at playing it cool, and he snorted, grabbing his hand again because “In case I cry or something, you know. You’re my moral support.”

And Soobin was awfully quiet.

He wasn’t exactly talkative anyway, and maybe he didn’t talk very much because Beomgyu's mouth was always moving, but he didn’t even try to strike up a conversation at all.

Soobin barely even looked up from where he was running the ink along Beomgyu's arm.

Yeonjun was starting to get the feeling that he didn’t like Beomgyu very much, which should’ve made him upset, but it didn’t.

“And yeah, man, I know I’ve got a load of tattoos, but you have way more. Is that a full sleeve?”

Soobin gave a brief nod, which Beomgyu either didn’t notice or disregarded.

Beomgyu blew a huff of air. “Crazy. I’d never get that many, I don’t think.”

Soobin gave a little smirk, which had Yeonjun's heart fluttering ridiculously fast. “Maybe I’m just addicted to the pain.”

“Masochism,” Yeonjun blurted, because he was an idiot that didn’t have a filter, and Beomgyu's hand felt too big in his owns and he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

“Hm?” Soobin asked, glancing up at Yeonjun for the first time in what felt like hours.

Soobin bit his lip again, which he needed to stop doing unless he wanted Yeonjun to collapse on the floor from a lack of oxygen.

“Masochism — like, you know. Um. Pleasure from pain. If you, like, if you like pain, you’re a masochist, but I’m sure you were just kidding. Yeah. Masochist.”

And oh god why was sound still coming out of Yeonjun's mouth?

“Oh. Masochist. Huh.” Soobin didn’t say anything else after that, and Beomgyu was wearing this all-knowing smile, but he did, when they were leaving, tell him quietly. “I was just kidding, but — thanks. I didn’t really know that. I mean, I’ve heard it, but. Yeah.”

And then Soobin did that stupid smile and hell, maybe Yeonjun was the one into masochism after all, because he didn’t know why he kept coming back here when all Soobin did was give him pain.

And, like an idiot, Yeonjun liked it.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun went back to the tattoo parlor the next day, because he got off of work early and had no life.

Actually, part of it was Beomgyu begging him to go back with him because apparently he and Jungkook got on really well and — “it’d make more sense if you were there too and at least you’d get to see Soobin so stop frowning”.

And Yeonjun really shouldn’t have listened to Beomgyu, because here he was— freakish human giraffe with a head of dark hair next to him — pushing into the parlor just as the door swung back and —oh.

Oh.

Soobin was just about to walk out with some bloke with a slouchy beanie and an arm decorated with tattoos by his side.

The guy was smaller than Soobin, and his eyes were really blue, animated almost as he relayed something, arms flailing for dramatic effect.

Soobin noticed them before the other boy did, stopping in his tracks while his friend actually rebounded off of Yeonjun, because the blond was too dumbstruck to move out of the way.

Yeonjun's brain always seemed to move two breaths too slow when he was around Soobin and that wasn’t actually a good thing.

“Whoa, hey,” The guy called out, Soobin grabbing his elbow before he toppled over.

Yeonjun kind of took that moment to catch his breath because a) the guy had run into him and knocked the wind out of him and b) Soobin was looking especially good today.

“Yeonjun, hey, you alright?” Soobin asked him then, voice smooth and silky and damn it, why couldn’t he be as affected by Yeonjun as he was of him?

Yeonjun opened his mouth to tell him that he was fine but his friend beat him to it, whipping his head toward him with a wolfish grin and wide eyes.

“Oh, so you’re Yeonjun? Something beautiful tattoo Yeonjun? Oh so smart Yeonjun that knows really big words and has a boyfriend that’s actually really nice and has dimples and green eyes and also has a matching something bootiful tattoo Yeonjun? Nice to meet you, I’m Kang Taehyun, best friend of Choi Soobin — who happens to be this charming bloke to his left, though you know that very well by now, don’t you?”

Yeonjun blinked.

He didn’t know what to say.

This guy — Kang Taehyun — had just charged at him like a fireball and he was speechless because what was he to say?

Soobin seemed to be thinking the same thing because he was gaping at Taehyun with an open mouth and equally red cheeks, socking him in the arm.

And Yeonjun was still thinking of something to say when Beomgyu let out a deep chuckle beside him, slow and languid and everything Beomgyu before, “I’m not his boyfriend, actually.”

And — oh.

Yeonjun hadn’t even — the word boyfriend — hadn’t even registered in his brain through Taehyun's long speech because he still wasn’t over the fact that Taehyun knew of him, which meant that Soobin talked about him more than he had thought.

Not that that couldn’t mean that he talked about all of his costumers.

Telling your best friend — Taehyun — was a lot different that telling your coworker — Jungkook — and Yeonjun liked to think that he was special.

Maybe. Not saying that he was.

Yeonjun knew he wasn’t, but he liked to think that a guy as attractive and sweet and genuinely nice as Soobin actually talked about him.

“You held his hand like three times didn’t you, what was it, Bamgoo?” Taehyun paused for a second, giving Beomgyu a questioning look before, “No, wait, it was Choi Beomgyu, yeah.”

Soobin cleared his throat then, not only glaring at Taehyun but also giving Yeonjun a sheepish smile and that’s when he finally stepped out of their way because yeah, they were about to leave, weren’t they?

“Sorry, we’ve been holding you up and I didn’t even realize.”

“We were just going to lunch,” Taehyun interjected before Soobin even had a chance to, “But we could probably go pick it up and all just eat here. Jungkook would probably like that too, don’t you think, Soobin?”

Soobin nodded then, giving Taehyun a look that Yeonjun couldn’t read before shrugging. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d love salty Chinese takeaway.”

Taehyun shot him a face at that, but Soobin just gave a soft snort before shrugging again. “You can do what you want but I’m not paying for it.”

Taehyun rolled his eyes in a very overdramatic fashion, letting out a loud, audible sigh. “Of course you’re not paying for it. You didn’t pay for my gas when I drove all the way here just to see my friend on his lunch break; of course you wouldn’t pay for Jungkook’s lunch. You’re such a cheapskate, Choi, Christ. Why am I even friends with you?”

Beomgyu let out a snort at that while Soobin just scowled, shoving Taehyun before completely ignoring his outburst. “Well if you’re going to go pick up the food then I might as well just wait here.”

“Yeah, you can keep Yeonjun company because Choi Beomgyu is coming with me.”

And Beomgyu didn’t even protest as his arm was lightly grabbed so they could move ahead, sending Yeonjun a little finger wave before trotting off behind Taehyun, and then there were two.

Soobin leaned against the brick wall of the tattoo parlor, running his thumb over it before pulling out a pack of smokes from one pocket and a lighter in the other. When he lit up Yeonjun immediately turned his face away which, of course, he noticed. “Sorry. This bother you?”

Yeonjun shrugged. “I’ve just got asthma, is all. Don’t want to like, choke on the ground or anything.”

And a) Soobin made it hard enough to breathe as it was, and b) thinking about it, Yeonjun wouldn’t exactly mind him having to give him mouth to mouth.

Soobin took another long drag before stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe, and when Yeonjun sent him a questioning look all he said was — “It’s a nasty habit anyway.”

Which kind of meant a lot more to Yeonjun than it should’ve.

And later when Taehyun came back with Beomgyu and a lot more food than needed to feed five people, Taehyun handed Soobin a few crumpled bills. “You paid for it, and I also took the liberty of filling up my tank, mind you.”

All Soobin did was roll his eyes in response, fond smile threatening to break his lips and Yeonjun found it all very endearing.

There was a lot about this boy that Yeonjun found to be endearing and it was all a bit overwhelming.

It was a tidal wave of emotion and he wasn’t really prepared for that; for hot blushes and embarrassed smiles and fluttering hearts.

It was all a bit much but honestly, if Yeonjun could go back in time he wouldn’t change a thing.

Yeonjun was falling for a stupid boy with stupidly long lashes and a stupidly cute dimpled smile that had a stupid nasty habit, and oddly, he was okay with that.

Chapter Text

“I’m fucked.”

Those were the first words out of Soobin's mouth when he burst into Taehyun's apartment, so of course he, Taehyun, was a bit interested.

Who wouldn’t be?

“You’re fucked. Figuratively or literally and if so, by who?”

Soobin groaned, burying his head in a pillow and letting out a girlish squeal because of course things like this only happened to him. Of course. “I was just, there was nobody there, right, so I was just, like sketching and—”

“Wait,” Taehyun stopped him, brows raised because alright, he was lost. “You were where, exactly? And take that goddamned cushion from your mouth so I can actually understand you.”

Soobin pouted but squeezed the pillow in his lap, letting out a sigh and running his fingers through his bangs before starting over. “I was at work, and it was a slow day, and I was sketching because it was a slow day, and then Jungkook hyung comes in, yeah? And so he tells me to come take this boy because he’s scared of needles and he hates crying.”

“And then the boy was fit?”

Soobin groaned again, slumping back into the couch. "He’s more than just fit, like, okay yeah he’s bloody gorgeous but — he's like — ugh, I’m just so fucked, okay?”

Taehyun grinned to himself because he knew a thing or two about crushes and his friend was definitely nursing a grade A crush. “Are you fucked because you never get to see him again?”

“No,” Soobin groaned out again, rubbing his hands down his face. “He came back after that with these big words that I don’t know the meaning of and then I told him that I couldn’t dance and he told me that he thought it was cute and—”

“He said he thought that your weird-as-fuck fear was cute and suddenly that means that ‘you’re fucked’? I’m not following you here.”

And Taehyun loved his best friend, he did, but sometimes he just didn’t get it. Soobin just talked in circles sometimes while Taehyun liked to get straight to the point.

Soobin glared at him and folded his arms, rubbing his shoe along the carpet. “No. It’s just that he came back again today and he has a fucking boyfriend. And the guy's all tall and dark and handsome and he has green eyes and he held his hand twice and he — his name is Yeonjun, right Taehyun? And he got the word ‘beautiful’ tattooed, yeah? Well his boyfriend — Choi Beomgyu — he got a matching tattoo too and he has dimples, Taehyun, dimples. He has fucking dimples. I can’t compete with dimples.”

“You’ve got dimples too, dumbass,” Taehyun laughed, like actually laughed, and Soobin kind of hated him for that. “And you also have the smolder, which is just as great as dimples. Anyway, it sounds like this Yeonjun stops by a lot.”

“Which is exactly why I’m fucked.”

Taehyun nodded solemnly. “Yep. Completely fucked.”

“Utterly fucked.”

“Yep. And wait, this Yeonjun boy got ‘something beautiful’ tattooed on him? That’s stupid.”

Soobin frowned. “I thought it was actually really cute.”

“Choi,” Taehyun groaned, chucking a pillow at his head. “Christ.”

Chapter Text

“Jun, babe,” Beomgyu sighed through the phone, “If I have to hear about his unfairly perfect jawline one more time I think I’ll have to kill you. You’ll be fine, okay? I love you.”

“Gyu,” Yeonjun whined back into the receiver, clutching the cellphone.

“I really have to go, love,” The brunette sighed once more, and the blondie could almost see him worrying his lip and running a finger through his hair. “I’ll call you after my essay — or, no, you’ll probably call me, actually. Bring me back Japchae; love you. Say it back this time or I’ll stop making you breakfast.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Yeonjun quipped back, but he was just trying to stall and Beomgyu knew that.

The blondie really, really didn’t want to go inside because even though he wanted to see Soobin, Taehyun was also there and well.

Taehyun was Taehyun, Yeonjun had learned easily, and it’s not like Beomgyu was going to be there to protect him this time because he had some paper due tomorrow that he’d had two weeks to work on and hadn’t until now.

Yeonjun inhaled. “But I do love you too. Wish me luck.”

“Bloke’s as into you as you are to him,” Beomgyu promised, and even though he’d said that already, it was more of a best friend thing; he didn’t really mean it. “Wish me luck. I’ve still got about five pages left and it’s not happening, Jun. So not happening.”

Yeonjun chuckled, rubbing his knuckles against the brick wall of the tattoo parlor, wishing Beomgyu good luck and promises of leftover Japchae. Then he tucked his phone into his pocket, pulled at the ponytail at the top of his head, and took a deep breath. But he shouldn’t be nervous, right? It was just lunch.

Lunch with Soobin and Taehyun and Jungkook and Jungkook’s friend’s cousin. Huening Kai, or something like that.

All Yeonjun remembered was that Kai liked to hang around the tattoo parlor even though he didn’t like tattoos. Which was weird, but, Yeonjun couldn’t judge, really. Not when he was about to have a heart attack at the thought of seeing Soobin again.

And it had been three days since the blondie had last been, that last lunch with Beomgyu.

Beomgyu and Taehyun apparently got on very well — not that Yeonjun was surprised, really. Beomgyu got on well with pretty much everyone — and they had exchanged numbers.

And it was this morning that Taehyun had texted Beomgyu and offered them to come to the parlor for lunch, like last time.

Except Beomgyu was a procrastinating twat and didn’t start his assignments until the day before they were due, so it was just Yeonjun. Great. Yeonjun shook his head at himself and pushed the door open, the little bell jingling to signal his entrance.

“The Queen has arrived, Soobin,” Taehyun piped up from where he was sitting on the counter, legs dangling. “What, no boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Yeonjun sighed, shaking his head and walking deeper into the shop before collapsing into one of the chairs. He liked the parlor; it was rustic. “To answer your question, though, Beomgyu has some work to catch up on, so yeah. No him.”

“I use the term ‘boyfriend’ loosely,” Taehyun shrugged then, leaning back to peak behind the corner of the shop.

Yeonjun caught a blonde tuft of hair for a second before it was gone again, but then Taehyun was yelling — actually yelling, even though the guy was like, ten feet away, tops.

“Hyuka! Where’s Soobin? Yeonjun is here.”

“Yeonjun?” And oh, okay, this guy had an accent apparently,“Soobin’s Yeonjun?”

The blondie's cheeks kind of burned at that, Soobin's Yeonjun, like he was actually his instead of just immediately associated with him.

“Yes, Soobin’s Yeonjun. And Soobin’s Yeonjun is right next to me, so watch your filthy mouth, Kai, or else Soobin will throw your shit out the window too.”

Yeonjun couldn’t help but raise his brows because, well, too? He said it casually too, like he was talking about the weather and it was perfectly normal to toss people’s things out of windows.

“Does that happen a lot? The throwing, thing, I mean.”

Taehyun shrugged, hopping off of the counter.

Yeonjun noticed Taehyun was dressed a lot differently today. The beanie was gone, and his hair was styled into a loose, but cute, fringe. The sweats were replaced by a pair of tight black jeans and wow, okay, he was curvy. And he had a very nice bum. Yeonjun was jealous.

“When he’s super moody, which is like, 75 percent of the time, honestly. You only get to see the other twenty-five percent, so consider yourself lucky.”

Kai nodded, peering into the bag that held their lunch, once again picked up by Taehyun and probably paid for by Soobin. “He’s right. Threw my box — well Taehyun’s, ‘cause we were at his apartment — of Cheerios out the window once because I woke him up before eleven.”

Yeonjun furrowed his brows, because that should’ve seemed insane but it didn’t.

“I live on the first floor though, so it’s not like I have to travel the world to go get my stuff back. I suppose that’s why he does it.”

“That and the fact that you piss me off, you prick,” A new voice, Soobin's obviously, entered the room. Yeonjun guessed he hadn’t noticed him yet, because when he did, his eyes went wide. “Jun?”

“Yeah, I invited him and Beomgyu for lunch, except Beomgyu couldn’t come. So it’s just Yeonjun. Don’t think you mind that, though.”

Soobin glared at Taehyun but didn’t say anything, rummaging in the bag and pulling out a box. “You could’ve told me.”

Taehyun shrugged, opening up his own box of Japchae — which is what Beomgyu wanted Yeonjun to bring back to him. Taehyun had ordered that last time and Beomgyu had ended up eating half of it. But he split his fried rice, so it was even, he guessed.

“Could’ve, but I didn’t. No need crying over spilled ink, Choi.”

“That was horrible,” Kai referred to his word play on the phrase, wolfing down something pork. Or Yeonjun thought it was pork. Might’ve been chicken. Didn’t matter, because the blonde was shoving it in his mouth like it was the best thing since sliced bread. “Soobin's going to end up throwing your shit out the window, man.”

“Gonna throw you all out the window, too, if you don’t shut up,” Soobin sighed, but there was still a little smile on his face and you could tell that he didn’t mind.

“Except Yeonjun; you like Yeonjun,” Taehyun added slyly, and Soobin sent him a glare.

Yeonjun, of course, tried to hide his face in embarrassment.

“You’d never throw Yeonjun out of the window.”

“We need a word for this, like,” Kai paused to swallow, “It’s way too long to say. Throwing something out of a window.”

“Bet Jun knows a word for it.” That was Soobin who said it, but he was grinning at Yeonjun. “He always does.”

“It’s um, it’s defenestrate, actually,” Yeonjun muttered, and Soobin sent him a smile as blinding as the sun and for a second, he actually couldn’t breathe. “Like, defenestration is to throw something out of a window. Yeah.”

Soobin hummed at that, catching Yeonjun's eye with another shy smile and Taehyun cleared his throat.

“Well. If you two are quite finished, I’d like to actually finish my food without being sick.”

Soobin sent Taehyun a look and yeah, he was definitely waking up on the lawn outside of his apartment tonight.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun didn’t fully understand why he was here.

He meant, he had gotten thirteen texts in rapid succession from Taehyun, all either a form of “hyuuuunggg” or “please can you get to the shop like now” or “:(”.

Yeonjun was tempted to just return home because it was Taehyun, but coming couldn’t hurt, right?

He was planning on getting another tattoo anyway, so if what Taehyun wanted wasn’t important he’d just get it now, so the trip wouldn’t be a waste.

When Yeonjun pulled up, Taehyun was in the parking lot, sitting on the hood of what he had learned to be his car, furiously typing out another text.

Taehyun stopped when he saw Yeonjun though, blue eyes wide and mouth turned down in a frown. Which wasn’t good, because Taehyun didn’t frown often. He pouted, but didn’t frown.

“Took you long enough, don’t you think?”

“I was doing something,” Yeonjun defended, which he kind of was, actually.

If watching Mean Girls to make yourself feel better about your pathetic love life counted as something, at least.

“You were watching a movie and I know this because I texted Beomgyu to make sure you weren’t in class or at work,” The boy snapped back, before running his fingers through his shaggy hair. “Sorry, I’m just kind of — Soobin's being sort of an ass.”

“Soobin's being an ‘ass’, and so you found the need to make me come here? Honestly, Taehyun. He’s your best friend for a reason.” And Yeonjun wasn’t really mad at Taehyun, not really, but he had just snapped at him and he had been watching a movie.

“Well he won’t talk to me,” Taehyun sighed out, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him but he won’t talk to me, his best mate, so I asked you to come because I knew he’d talk to you, okay?”

And this was definitely an inappropriate time, but Yeonjun's insides warmed at the fact that Taehyun thought that even though Soobin wouldn’t talk to him, he’d talk to him, which was probably untrue.

“I doubt it.”

“Can you try though? Like, he’s being even more moody than normal. Like you can smell the brood when you walk in. It’s horrible.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes at Taehyun but nodded anyway, making sure his car was locked before entering the tattoo parlor.

Huening Kai was standing behind the counter — and he didn’t even work there — and brightened up a bit when he saw Yeonjun, leaning up from where he was perched on his elbows. “Taehyun made you come for Soobin, then?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Yeonjun asked instead, because Taehyun's description — moody and ass-like — didn’t help very much, surprise, surprise.

“He’s been —” Kai cut off, shrugging, and scrunching his brows. “I dunno. Just a bad day, I guess. Been painting the entire day, like. Told us not to mess with him unless there was nobody else to do a tattoo.”

Yeonjun frowned at that, because the Soobin he’d seen was all sunshine and smiles and nothing like what Kai and Taehyun were saying. “Well I was coming for a tattoo anyway, so it’s not like he can run.”

Huening Kai only let out a puff of air at that. “He can’t run, but he’ll try to. I’m telling you, Yeonjun, he’s not — I mean, Soobin's great. He’s a great guy and I love him to death but he’s—” He paused to scratch at the blonde fluff piled underneath a snapback. “He doesn’t like people. I mean, fuck, he likes people, okay, he just. He likes to keep to himself. He’s quiet, right?”

Yeonjun blinked. “Okay.”

“No, I mean, it’s just like this: I was hanging around here for two weeks before he said more than three words to me, you know?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Okay. I get it. Don’t expect him to talk.”

Kai nodded at that, and Yeonjun bit his lip before he was ushering him back to the very same room he was in when he got his first tattoo, leaving with promises to return with Soobin.

And he did, minutes later.

Yeonjun didn’t know what he was expecting, maybe a scowl or a frown or some type of anger that would be associated with “ass” but there was none.

Soobin's face was carefully blank, and he didn’t waste any expressions when he saw Yeonjun, giving Kai a quiet, almost silent, “I’ve got it from here, thanks.”

The blond worried his lip but turned away, but not without sparing Yeonjun a look first who only shrugged.

“So another tattoo?” Soobin asked quietly, sitting down next to Yeonjun and he frowned, because he wanted to ask him what was wrong but at the same time he didn’t because it seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Yeah. I — um, like a small book, on my ankle? Like a dictionary, you know?” And Yeonjun had thought it was clever when he was lounging on his couch but now that he was here and saying it to him it just sounded stupid.

Soobin only nodded wordlessly, and that was a bit disheartening, kind of. Yeonjun had expected at least the tiniest of smiles.

But obviously his mood was really shit.

And the blondie stayed quiet the whole time — it was such a contrast from the last time he got a tattoo.

Soobin wasn’t mindlessly talking to keep Yeonjun's mind off of the needle piercing his skin; he didn’t even open his mouth other than to tell him that it was going to hurt. About halfway through him filling in the book, Yeonjun couldn’t hold his tongue anymore.

“Alright, I know you’re having a bad day but are you actually, like, okay?”

Soobin stared at him with pursed lips for a second, liquid coffee eyes drinking him in. “Taehyun put you up to it, didn’t he?”

“Soobin,” Yeonjun frowned, “No.”

And yeah, he kind of had, but that seemed to be the wrong answer and he didn’t want to make him even more upset than he was.

Soobin put down the needle, slowly peeling his gloves off of paint-spattered fingertips, focusing on the way blue met red before kissing orange while he said. “I haven’t seen you in a week, and you just happen to show up today? Yeah, okay.”

And had it been a week since the last time Yeonjun ate lunch here? He knew that Beomgyu had stopped by a few days ago, but he’d had class then and couldn’t come. It didn’t feel like seven days but he guessed it was.

“Kai told me you paint.”

Soobin shrugged, eyes on the half-finished dictionary instead of Yeonjun's face. “Sometimes.” He drummed his fingers on the edge of the seat before letting out a breath and furrowing his brows, patting his pockets. Soobin finally pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter; ready to light one when he stopped, glancing at Yeonjun. “Asthma. Right.”

“Are you allowed to smoke in here anyway?”

He snorted. “I normally don’t. But I kind of need to now, because —” Soobin paused, fiddling with the smokes and fitting one between his lips even though he didn’t move to light it again. “My mum. She’s kind of, like, really mad at me, yeah?”

Yeonjun nodded, and he flicked his lighter, focusing on the dense orange flames instead of him.

“Like, I wasn’t exactly a good kid. Or I was,” Soobin smirked a bit to himself. “Then I met Jungwon. He’s good, though, it's just. He knows people that aren’t, and I got mixed with them. Started drinking and smoking and my mum didn’t like it, obviously. And I was smart, like,” Soobin scrunched his nose and looked at Yeonjun and smiled for the first time all day, before fiddling with the cigarette in his mouth. “Not to toot my own horn, but yeah. Thought I’d be a good Lit teacher, like at some big-shot Uni, you know?”

Yeonjun nodded, snorting a bit. “I could see it, if you had glasses, maybe.”

Soobin grinned. “I do.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so I was going to do all that, but I don’t know, I fucked up. Like, majorly, and even though I was smart I decided I didn’t want to go to Uni anymore. I thought that, like, I could stay eighteen forever and Jungwon and all his stupid friends would all still be there and we’d all do dumb things but it doesn’t work like that. And my mum hates me for not going because she says I could’ve made it.”

“I think you could’ve, too,” Yeonjun added quietly, and he probably shouldn’t have, but Soobin gave him a soft, “Thanks,” anyway.

“So she’s always been kind of mad at me, because she said what I’m doing — this painting and this job and I like to write, too, yeah? But she said it’s not good. Said it’s not what makes money and she’s disappointed in me and that stings, you know? I mean, I know it’s stupid but I don’t like to hear her talk like that about my stuff because it’s what makes me happy.”

“Soobin,” Yeonjun started helplessly, because how do he even reply to that? He was blinking down at the floor and flicking his lighter and maybe he felt worse than before, now, and the older male felt bad. “It’s not stupid, okay? Like, this might sound stupid but it’s kind of like glass, you know? Even the smallest of things can cut you wide open.”

Soobin let out a breath, then. “That’s not — that’s not it, though. Like I tried to go back a year ago and I told her I’d go to Uni but she wants me to be a lawyer because ‘that’s kind of similar to writing isn’t it? And you get the big bucks too’, but it isn’t. And so I told her no again, that I wanted to be a Lit teacher and she snapped and so I try not to visit much because I don’t want to fight her. She’s my mum, you know?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Yeah.”

“But it turns out she spent all day in town yesterday — she was five fucking minutes away — and she didn’t stop by to see me because she had my sisters with her and didn’t want to “expose” them to the same shit I’m into. And that — that’s why I’m not okay, because. That’s—” Soobin sighed. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not right,” Yeonjun added softly but really his mind was going back to Taehyun's words of “Soobin's being sort of an ass”. And he knew Taehyun didn’t know what was wrong with him, but Soobin wasn’t the one being an ass at all. “I’m sorry.”

Soobin shrugged, slipping his gloves back on before starting to fill in his tattoo again, cigarette still dangling in the corner of his mouth. “I could show you one of my paintings, sometime. If you — if you want, I mean.”

“I’d love to.”

“I might even wear my glasses; get all professional looking.”

Yeonjun grinned at him, rolling his eyes, and Soobin grinned back and well, that was that.

Later when the tattoo was finally done and Soobin’s mood had gotten a lot better as he packed away his supplies, Yeonjun’s mind went back to Taehyun's words of “Soobin's being sort of an ass”.

And he was starting to think that misunderstood was a better term.

Chapter Text

"Well aren't you looking dapper?"

"God," Yeonjun groaned looking down at his outfit — which was black jeans and a white shirt so he didn't see the problem, "Shut up, Taehyun."

"Are you always here?" Beomgyu chimed in; hand on the small of Yeonjun’s back, eyes narrowed.

Beomgyu was always a bit protective, which Yeonjun found sweet, but he was especially on guard today because he had told him how serious he really was with this infatuation with Soobin.

Beomgyu had assumed it was just a silly schoolboy crush but after Yeonjun had told him about Soobin offering to show him his paintings, he sat him down and said in his slow, steady voice — "You really like this guy, don't you? Think you could fall for him?"

And it was scary how quickly Yeonjun’s mind fell on the word absolutely. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe." He really didn't think Beomgyu bought it though.

"Actually, Bamgoo—"

"That's honestly not even my name."

Taehyun pursed his lips. "I'm here for moral support."

Yeonjun raised his brows. "Moral support?"

Taehyun nodded, crossing his arms like it all made sense. "Moral support. And what's your reason to be here, Bamgoo-not-Bamgoo?"

Just in case Yeonjun happened to pass out from swooning.

"Moral support," Beomgyu snorted, dimples flashing, and Taehyun’s entire face lit up and suddenly they were sharing some joke that Yeonjun was left out on. "Don't know how long this'll take, though. Fancy I might get another tattoo."

"Tattoos are always the answer," Taehyun answered, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes, biting his cheek. He didn't want to seem rude.

"Where's Soobin?"

"Oh, right! Yeah, just follow me, kind sir."

And then Yeonjun was trailing after the boy down a hallway he hadn't been down before, feet padding on the hardwood floor until they approached the room at the end of the hall.

"Your Prince awaits, ma chérie."

Yeonjun briefly wondered how Soobin ended up with a friend like Taehyun, but then the boy was giving him a not-so-subtle hip-check into the door, and he had no choice but to grasp the handle.

"Have fun," Taehyun grinned, all Cheshire-grins and wrinkled noses, until his eyes softened a bit and his smile lessened considerably. "Honestly, though. It takes a lot for Soobin to open up." He shrugged. "One small step for man, one giant leap for Choi-kind and all that."

And you could clearly see how much Taehyun cared for his friend even though he tried to play it off most of the time, so Yeonjun gave him a quick smile, knocking his shoulder with his own. "I'll take care of him, promise."

"I have no doubt that you will, Yeonjun," Taehyun breathed out, and the blondie wondered if he had any younger siblings because he'd be a great brother. "M’ gonna go hang out with your boyfriend though, if you or Bin need me, yeah?"

Yeonjun didn't even bother to correct him on the fact that Beomgyu wasn't his boyfriend, and judging by his teasing gaze he already knew. Instead, he took a deep breath, and opened the door.

And, well, fuck.

Soobin was shirtless.

A plethora of tattoos swirled around his chest and down his arms, the inky marks of a gun even making its way down past where his paint-splattered sweatpants were slung low on his hips, defined by a black heart and something else Yeonjun couldn't make out.

Soobin turned quickly when he heard the door open, breath hitching when he realized that it was Yeonjun and not anybody else. "Tae said you weren't coming until later — I would've, like, cleaned myself up or something. I'm sorry."

"No," Yeonjun muttered before he even realized it, "You're completely fine. We, ah — we did come a bit early. Gyu got out of class early today so—"

"Beomgyu?" Soobin asked, all scrunched nose and pouty lips, wiping his hands on his pants. "He's here?"

Yeonjun shrugged. "Yeah. So is Taehyun."

Soobin furrowed his brows at that but said nothing, instead taking a step back and gesturing around the room they were in. "So, welcome to my art room, I guess. Um, always wanted one of these, like, my mum would never really let me have one but I want one in my house, someday, I think."

Yeonjun nodded, letting his eyes wander around the room he had completely forgotten to look at once he saw that Soobin wasn't wearing a shirt. It was neat in a messy/artist/boy kind of way, spray cans in one corner, brushes and canvases leaning against walls, tubes of paint on shelves as well as numerous sketchbooks strewn about. A large canvas was up on one of the walls and it looked like he had been doing some graffiti maybe, earlier. It was cool.

"It's nice. I see the appeal."

Soobin smiled at Yeonjun, something that looked more grateful than anything else, before looking down at himself with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry about the whole shirtless thing; was taking off this painting that wasn't dry yet and, ah," he paused, scratching the back of his neck with blue-tinted palms. "Kind of tripped and fell on the whole thing. Ruined it and my shirt and I kind of look like a Smurf."

He held up his arms then, blue trailing from the tip of his index fingers, down his forearms until the crook of his elbows.

Yeonjun wanted to ask how that was even possible, but Soobin looked like a puppy in that moment, all wide-eyed and innocent and he couldn't do anything other than giggle. "An artsy Smurf, though."

"Yeah, artsy Smurf — oh, wait," Soobin paused for a moment, stumbling over to a desk pushed against a corner, and when he turned around he had donned a pair of glasses.

And truthfully, Yeonjun had never seen a more sinful Smurf in his entire life.

"I could see you being a teacher," he nodded casually, like he wasn't actually about to explode into flames on the inside. "Professor Choi Soobin — it's got a nice ring to it." he grinned when Soobin smiled at him; the one with tongue behind teeth and leaned up off of the wall. "All the girls would want you, no doubt."

Soobin hummed at that, scanning Yeonjun’s outfit once before meeting his eyes again. "Mind getting dirty?"

Yeonjun almost choked. "What?"

Soobin shrugged, a blush creeping up his neck as he realized how we worded his question, waving his hand out in front of the floor. "Was thinking, like —" His ears reddened next, shoving his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants and looked down. "Never mind. It's stupid anyway."

"It's not stupid," Yeonjun told him, because even though he had no clue what he wanted to say, he knew that it wasn't stupid. Soobin was never stupid. "You were saying?"

The younger shrugged. "Was thinking maybe we could paint? Like, together? But, like fingerpainting — I could put a canvas on the floor and we could fingerpaint."

And these were a pair of brand-new jeans so Yeonjun kind of didn't want to dirty them, but the look on Soobin’s face as soon as he started talking had him sold. "Yeah, that sounds cool."

Soobin grinned, already going to pull out the canvas so they could get started. It was large and surprisingly thin, just a bit more rigid than a sheet. And yeah, okay, Yeonjun was excited.

Soobin took down a few paint cans — and Yeonjun definitely wasn't staring as the muscles in his back flexed — and brought them over, laying out a few brushes as well.

"So it's not completely finger painting if you don't want to get your hands dirty. But they'll probably get dirty anyway." Soobin shrugged, and Yeonjun grinned, dipping his finger into a green that reminded him a lot of Beomgyu’s eyes.

And it was... It was fun.

Soobin and Yeonjun both kind of painted on their own sides — though it was unspoken — and it was kind of beautiful how it turned out.

Soobin’s side was intricate; all thought out and fine lines while Yeonjun’s was the opposite. Of course, there was the big smudge from where Yeonjun’s hand slipped in trying to get the orange from his side.

But it was really nice how they merged in the middle, this undefined swirl that was a little messy but a lot pretty.

"I think I see why you like this so much, you know? It's cathartic," Yeonjun said, catching the cloth he had thrown at him to wipe off his hands.

"Should I even ask what that means?" He asked in response, rubbing a hand over his nape even though it only covered it yellow.

Soobin looked like a ray of sunshine in that moment; a paint-splattered, shirtless sunshine. And Yeonjun had never wished to bask in the sunlight more.

"Cathartic?" The older asked, and when the younger nodded, he laid on the floor and continued. "Catharsis is like — it's kind of like the release of emotion, I guess. Like most people do it to convey fear or pity but," he shrugged. "You can do it to show whatever you want, I guess. Most people do it through art."

Soobin nodded at that, lying down on the floor with him and propping his arms under his head. He turned to Yeonjun then, and even though they were only one paint-stained canvas away, it seemed like an entire universe. "Can people be cathartic?"

"I guess," Yeonjun shrugged, running his finger along the edge of his painting — their painting. "I think anything can be, really. Like, I don't know if it is for you but smoking could be."

"Nah, smoking's not cathartic," Soobin gave him a quick grin, "Just addictive as hell."

"Your smiling's kind of addictive," Yeonjun told him quickly, letting the words slip out before he could take them back. He didn't want to have a chance to rethink it, even though he already was and fuck, he was so stupid. Your smiling's addictive? Really?

He could feel Soobin’s eyes searching him even though he definitely wouldn't meet his gaze, instead looking at the graffiti on the wall. "Yeah?"

Yeonjun nodded, breathing the word out on an exhale, the moment seeming a lot more intimate and fragile than it did when they were just throwing paint on a canvas. "Yeah."

"Interesting," Soobin said lowly, turning to him again even though he couldn't look at him. "I kind of think you're cathartic. If people are, I mean. You're like art, then."

"And you're like smoke." And the pounding of Yeonjun’s heart had to be visible in all shades of red, because it was bursting through his chest with each passing breath.

"My art and your smoke," Soobin said eventually, when the seams of Yeonjun’s lungs were unraveling inside his ribs. "I think I like the sound of that."

And yeah, there was definitely something addictive about his grin.

Chapter Text

"So what you're telling me is that you two were locked in a room, alone, and you didn't even remove a single article of clothing besides your own shirt," Taehyun started, carefully dodging the wet spaghetti noodle that Soobin flicked at him. "Hey, watch it. This shirt is way too expensive for that shit, Soobin. I'm just saying that that was a serious waste of time, man."

"I wasn't — I don't." Soobin frowned, twirling his fork in the spaghetti that Taehyun had made that actually wasn't half bad. "I don't just, like, want in his pants, Tae. I mean — obviously I kind of do, but. It's not just that, you know?"

Taehyun groaned aloud at that, rolling those baby blues and Soobin wondered just how effective it'd be to strangle somebody with a piece of spaghetti.

He could see it now, actually, highlighting the television while some news anchor with too-red lipstick shuffled her papers: Local Tattoo Artist Strangles Friend With Dinner of Limp Pasta.

"Don't tell me you're doing this whole 'feelings' thing. No. It's not happening. I don't do feelings."

"Clearly," Soobin snorted, but okay, he kind of hoped that the other male would be serious for once. Just for like, five minutes.

Because this whole thing with Yeonjun — he didn't really know what to classify it as besides an infatuation, maybe — was turning a lot more serious than he had thought it ever would.

He sighed then, toeing the pack of cigarettes on his coffee table closer so that he could bend forward and reach it.

So maybe Soobin had lied a little.

Smoking could be a bit cathartic, sometimes, or maybe it was more of an stress-relieving thing that kept him from murdering his ass of a best friend. Italian made him violent, he noted. Next time he was expecting a serious conversation he'd have to make, like, Chinese or something.

"Okay," Taehyun frowned, waving away the smoke when it wafted over to his face, "You're angry smoking. Why are you angry smoking? Are you mad at me? Soobin."

The raven haired shrugged, trying to keep his features neutral because his anger was a bit unjustified, okay. He knew that. "I just — I'm confused and pissed off enough as it is and you're acting all chuffed about this and it's actually not fucking helping at all, okay?"

Taehyun frowned even deeper and it looked so unnatural on his face that Soobin even felt bad for a second. Then he remembered that he was mad in the first place, and stopped.

"Well if you want a heart-to-heart then you're not getting it from—"

Soobin sighed, standing up. He didn't have time for this. If Taehyun wasn't going to help then he'd rather brood in his room because at least in there were pillows and a warm blanket. Plus, he could lock Taehyun out and, yeah, that option was looking better and better.

"Don't forget to wash your dish up before you leave."

"Okay, hey," Taehyun's voice was feather-soft when he spoke again, the same voice he used when he called home and talked to the twins over leftover pizza and socked feet on Soobin's couch.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm a bit of a dick, okay. Let's talk about it. Like actual feelings stuff. I'm all for it." Taehyun patted the spot next to him on the loveseat. "C'mon, man. I don't bite."

Soobin sighed but stubbed out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray before sliding up next to his best friend on the loveseat. "I just — I don't know. I really like him, yeah? He just — he's really — he got a dictionary tattooed on his ankle and I think it's because we, you know, we — like words."

"So you're trying to tell me that he's so into you that he tattooed one of your little 'Soobin-and-Yeonjun-things' on himself?"

"No," Soobin groaned. "Yes. No. I don't — I don't fucking know, okay, because I'm still really convinced that he's shagging that Beomgyu guy."

"Yeonjun and Beomgyu aren't—"

"I know they aren't dating but you can't tell me that they don't like each other. Mildly, at least, like."

"He doesn't—"

"Yes he does. Shut up, Tae. He completely does."

Taehyun let out a growl, shoving Soobin with his arm. "Could you shut the fuck up for like, two seconds? It's not a very effective heart-to-heart if I can't even finish a damn sentence, is it? You're going to make me start angry smoking, and I don't even smoke. Shut up."

So, naturally, Soobin shut up.

"Now, what I was saying," Taehyun paused to gather his thoughts before turning to Soobin again, and yeah, okay, there's moments when Soobin hated him but he's still awfully glad that he ended up with Taehyun as a best friend instead of anyone else. "Basically you need to pull your head out of your tattooed ass and—"

"My ass is not—"

"Completely not the point and I'm not done. You don't get to speak until I'm done."

Taehyun cracked his knuckles, as if he was trying to seem threatening, or something. And even though, when the time came, Soobin could so take him. Taehyun would deny it in front of anyone but they both know it's the truth. Soobin boxed and Taehyun played footy, but his fists beat Taehyun's kick any day.

"You do realize you're attractive, right? Like in a completely platonic way, you're gorgeous. You know that, right?"

Well it's not like Soobin ever thought he was ugly, or anything, but he really didn't see what his looks had anything to do with the fact that he was pretty sure that he was falling in love with a boy. And he didn't even know his last name.

"I guess."

"So you already have more of a chance than half of the male population that lives around here, obviously me excluded. But I'm not going to hit on him, so." Taehyun shrugged. "What I'm saying is, if you offered him a ride on your rollercoaster of life, I'm pretty sure he'd buy a premium pass."

Soobin tried not to laugh at that but it was awfully hard, and he ended up shoving Taehyun at the same time as taming a snort. "Shut up."

"I'm serious, man, like, he's gorgeous; you're gorgeous. Genetics are in your favor. Get in there before he actually does go to, like, Beomgyu or someone else."

"You killed my high."

"Yeah, well you made me all sentimental, so there's that. But seriously, Soobin," Taehyun gave him a look, "Make a move, okay?"

Soobin nodded. "Yeah, okay. I will."

And maybe he would, just, like, after he finished his spaghetti, at least.

Chapter Text

“I’m Namjoon, Taehyun’s friend, and he told me to come talk to you to make Soobin jealous.”

Yeonjun raised his brows at the guy with a warm smile and nice biceps. He’d probably be his type, actually, if he wasn’t already so smitten with Soobin.

“Namjoon. It suits you.” Yeonjun paused, eyes narrowing. “And why exactly is Taehyun trying to make Soobin jealous?”

Namjoon’s eyes widened slightly and he turned to where Taehyun was chatting up with Soobin behind the counter, although both were looking Yeonjun's way instead of at each other.

“Forget I said the last part, actually. Taehyun just told me to come talk to you…. because he said you’re nice.”

“Namjoon,” He frowned, because okay, the guy was nice and all, but he couldn’t lie for shit. And why was Taehyun trying to make Soobin jealous?

Sending a guy over to talk to Yeonjun would only make Soobin jealous if he liked him, and there was no way that he liked him because — because things like that didn’t happen to him, okay? Ordinary boys didn’t get liked by the reincarnation of Adonis. It just didn’t happen.

“I like your tattoo,” Namjoon said then, obviously trying to change the subject. He pulled back the sleeves of his shirt some, and he saw four thick, black chevrons lining his forearm. Yeonjun would ask him about them later.

“It’s a very pretty calligraphy — ‘beautiful’ — oh. Oh. Your name is Yeonjun which means beautifully linked to the cosmos, right? Taehyun said — oh, you got a tattoo of yourself. Or not of yourself. Of your name. basically. Oh.”

Yeonjun couldn’t help but laugh at his expression because Namjoon kind of reminded him of a golden retriever, in a way. He told Namjoon this, too, and when he snorted Yeonjun just shook his head.

“Sorry. That was kind of stupid.”

“No, it's just,” Namjoon grinned, “Taehyun calls me a puppy a lot. Because he’s, well he’s Taehyun, obviously, and I’d like to think I’m a lot more mannered than him. He calls me Puppy Kim. ‘Cause Kim's my last name.”

“Your last name’s Kim?” Yeonjun asked him, and when he nodded, he let out a hum. “My mom’s too! Does that make me a puppy as well?”

Namjoon let out a laugh at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. You're cute enough to be called one.”

Yeonjun opened his mouth to say something else, but then Soobin's voice was slicing through the air. “Joon hyung. Jungkook hyung can take you, you know.”

Namjoon looked up, offering him a nod, before turning back to the blondie. “Well it was nice meeting you, Yeonjun.”

“You too,” The blondie smiled back, because it was. You can’t hate a guy like Namjoon. “What’re you getting done?”

Namjoon turned his arm over, running his finger along a feather that Yeonjun hadn’t noticed. “Just some song lyrics. It probably won’t take long, like if you’re still here. You’re fun to talk to; better friend than Taehyun — but don't let him know I said that.”

“I’m definitely telling him that you said that,” Yeonjun laughed.

Namjoon shrugged, making his way to where a tuft of dark black hair had appeared. “Go ahead. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, despite what he wants you to think.”

Yeonjun grinned at Namjoon, giving him a little wave before making himself over to where Soobin's and Taehyun's chat had ceased.

“I like Namjoon,” Yeonjun told Taehyun, leaning on the counter. “He’s really nice and sweet, and reminds me of a puppy.”

“He also has a killer body, just so you know,” Taehyun added, giving him an obvious brow wiggle, and he smacked him.

“I noticed, trust me. Whoever he’s going to be ending up with is some really lucky person.”

“He boxes—”

“I box, too,” Soobin said, cutting Taehyun off and crossing his arms over his chest. He bit on his bottom lip, clearing his throat before continuing. “That’s, um, how I met him; Namjoon. Then I found out later he was Taehyun's friend too.”

Yeonjun raised his brows.

Not because Soobin didn’t look sporty enough to box — he’d seen him with his shirt off, remember, he knew that there was some type of physical activity going on — but the way he was glowering at Taehyun was just weird. Soobin wasn’t normally like this. He must’ve been having a bad day again.

“You okay?” Yeonjun asked him softly, brows furrowed.

And Taehyun snickered. “He’s fine.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Yeonjun sighed back, and this time Soobin rubbed the back of his neck, pulling his lighter from his pocket and flicking it absentmindedly.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. But I was thinking, like —” Soobin paused, rubbing his hand down his face. “Like you know how we — we cured your fear of needles, right? Or at least it’s not that bad now.”

Yeonjun gave him a slight nod. He forgot, Soobin was the type of person to talk in fifty different circles before finally getting to the point.

“So I wanted to try, like, painting the sunset, right?” Soobin hung his head down, avoiding Taehyun's eyes probably because the other boy looked about three seconds from laughing right in his face. “Except, I thought it’d be cool to do it on the roof? Like, you know. It’s flat up there obviously, and — you know I’m scared of heights but I thought it’d be cool if you came too, because — you know, I was there when you stopped being so afraid of needles, so. Heights, right?”

Yeonjun raised his brows. Soobin wanted to be with him. On the roof. Alone.

So he can paint, his mind added.

“Sounds cool to me.”

“Cool, yeah, and we can, like — I’ll bring food, too. Like a picnic. But with alcohol. You drink, right?”

“Are you sure drinking while on a roof is the smartest idea?”

“I wouldn’t fall,” Soobin promised him easily, looking up from the flame in his hands for a second. “Way too scared to get close to the edge, even drunk. I’m not an idiot. But—” he smiled shyly, eyes trailing downward again, “If you decided that falling was a great idea, you know I’d catch you.”

And it’s because Yeonjun was so infatuated, he knew, but you know I’d catch you had such a double meaning to him, even though he knew Soobin didn’t mean it like that.

Yeonjun nodded. “Yeah. You’d catch me.”

“I would.” Soobin paused for a second, taking a breath. “So, like, is wine okay? I don’t know if you like beer, or—”

“Wine is fine,” The blondie told him, and when the younger opened his mouth again, he shushed him. “Of whatever kind. I don’t really mind. I’m not picky when it comes to alcohol, really Soobin.”

Soobin flushed, running his hand through his hair, and Yeonjun almost managed to forget that Taehyun was there until he snorted loudly, hopping up onto the counter.

“You know, Soob, it’d probably be a great idea if you actually let him know when to be here.”

Soobin groaned at Taehyun, swatting at him until he finally jumped back down and was standing on his feet again.

“I was — I was getting there.” Soobin turned back to Yeonjun. “Is tomorrow okay? Can you get here around like, half-five-ish so we can set up and all that?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Do I get to paint too? Or am I watching you the whole time?”

He was fine with either, really.

“You can paint too, if you want to,” Soobin smiled, and then he bit his lip. “Didn’t know you liked it.”

“It’s fun,” Yeonjun shrugged, but he knew that meant a lot to him, especially because of his mum and whatnot. “Looking forward to it.”

Soobin smiled, Yeonjun grinned back, and Taehyun let out a massive chuckle, slapping Soobin on the back. Whatever that was supposed to mean. But Yeonjun didn’t really care either, because this was kind of a date. Sort of, not really.

He didn’t know, the you know I’d catch you was still ringing in his ears and it was a little hard to think. Or breathe, or do much of anything, really.

Yeonjun took a breath.

Relax.

It’s just Soobin.

Just Soobin. And him. Alone. On a rooftop. With wine.

Beomgyu's going to have a field day when he hears this.

Chapter Text

"You came early; we, um, still have time," Soobin spoke, kicking the door to the rooftop closed. "At least another thirty minutes or so. We can eat now? If you want."

"Sure, yeah, that's fine," Yeonjun told him easily, and he nodded, putting down the picnic basket.

The picnic basket. He had actually packed a picnic basket. Yeonjun didn't know whether he wanted to scream or cry over how endearing that was.

Soobin gave him a light smile, unfolding a bright orange blanket, and wrinkled his nose when the other male raised his brows, rubbing the back of his neck. "My sister gave me this; sorry it's a bit bright."

"It's alright," Yeonjun told him, sitting down, and it was.

Soobin could've pulled out a bed of nails and Yeonjun would've easily complied because really, this was already too much. Just being here, with him, on a roof of all places while the sun went down — it was already a bit overwhelming.

"So what'd you pack?"

Soobin ducked his head, giving him a smile. "So, basically I live off of takeaway, yeah? Like, I can't cook, at all. And neither can Taehyun. And apparently neither can Huening Kai because I asked him to bake cookies and he forgot about them and, yeah, I don't think you'd like burnt cookies, right? So no cookies."

"You asked Huening Kai to bake cookies?"

It came out like a squeal, about ten octaves higher than it was supposed to and Yeonjun could feel the tips of his ears warming, but really? He'd asked Huening Kai to bake cookies — asked Taehyun to cook — for him? But this was not a date.

Soobin paused, gauging Yeonjun's reaction. "Um. I did, yeah. But he burnt them. Don't be mad. And it turns out Namjoon hyung can't cook either because—"

Yeonjun let out a sound, the rest of his sentence turning into nothing but static and white noise because he asked Namjoon to help cook.

Namjoon was probably over at the apartment anyway, but he still asked for his help for Yeonjun, and oh god, his whole body was on fire now and Soobin was still speaking.

"... And my mum always tried to teach me, but I never got it really, so yeah. So, I, um, I made sandwiches though — turkey, because I don't eat pig, but that's okay, right? Like, you don't mind turkey, do you?"

"No," Yeonjun told him, because he'd eat anything if he knew that Soobin went through the effort to make it, "Turkey's fine. I like turkey. Turkey's good."

Soobin nodded once. "Okay. Oh. I don't like mayo, so I didn't put any on there, but then I thought that maybe you liked mayo, so I made two. Two sandwiches, I mean, for you. But you don't have to eat both." He paused, eyes widening, "But, I mean, if you want to eat both, you can. I don't — I won't judge you, like if you're hungry."

Soobin was so cute, and Yeonjun couldn't help but laugh. Not at him for packing two sandwiches just in case he liked mayonnaise, but because of the way he went about it. It was just adorable, really.

"I don't like mayo either, by the way."

Soobin nodded, pulling out two containers from the picnic basket, which Yeonjun was still not over, by the way. "Cool. And since Hyuka burnt the cookies, I just bought some from the store. Chocolate chip. And I think there's fruit salad in here; I'm sorry — Taehyun packed a lot of—"

Soobin broke off abruptly, a strangled noise leaving his lips as he peeked down in the basket, followed by an 'Oh my God', a 'What in the absolute fuck', and then, finally a 'I think I'm actually going to murder him this time'.

"What'd to Taehyun do now?"

"Nothing; he did nothing."

And Yeonjun would've believed him had Soobin not been biting his lip, scooting the picnic basket away from him, and, hey, that response was way too fast to be the truth.

"I don't believe you."

The ravenette shot him a look, but the blond took a breath and lunged for the basket, which he clearly wasn't expecting because he fell backwards, and he snatched it.

"Don't," Soobin warned Yeonjun, but he didn't listen opening the basket anyway.

Why would he? If it was Taehyun, it was obviously something embarrassing. Probably a baby picture or something.

And. Oh.

Oh.

Yeonjun wasn't — he wasn't exactly expecting a box of condoms with a sticky note attached.

i noticed you didn't pack any of these so shame on you, soobin. safe sex is the best sex :) p.s. i want at least three of these gone by the time you get back. go get ’em tiger!!

love, taehyun xxxxxx

(you're probably really mad now but you'll thank me later)

"It's a joke," Soobin assured Yeonjun quickly, snatching the box and the basket back. "It's Taehyun, he does stupid things, and—"

"Three?" Yeonjun asked, because Soobin had enough embarrassment for the both of them. "Who does he take you for?"

Soobin let out a wounded sound, mouth falling open, "I could last three rounds!"

"I'll believe it when I see it," Yeonjun snorted back and, oh god.

That was the kind of thing he said to Beomgyu over reruns of old television shows or after a day of work. That wasn't — that kind of thing wasn't something he was supposed to say to Soobin, and the atmosphere changed a bit and he was chucking the box of condoms back into the basket, clearing his throat.

"There's also applesauce. Which is funny, because there's already a fruit salad."

Yeonjun nodded, biting the corner of his lip, and reached for his sandwich.

They didn't say much after that, and he ended up drinking lemonade instead of the wine Soobin had brought, just because Yeonjun knew that his painting was going to suck while he was sober, and he didn't want to make it even worse by being tipsy.

The sky started to tinge a bit pink by the time Yeonjun got to his surprisingly delicious fruit salad, and Soobin nodded his head towards where he'd set up their easels and canvases earlier.

"We should probably go start, now."

"We probably won't finish before it gets dark," Yeonjun told him, and the other grinned, shrugging as he stood up before offering him a hand.

"That's okay; unfinished art is kind of beautiful too."

Yeonjun tried to act like Soobin's fingers didn't set off fireworks beneath his skin, but he was pretty sure he did a bad job at it. "Aesthetically pleasing."

"Is that, like, appreciating the pretty things or something?"

"Pretty much," The blond boy hummed, and the ravenette smiled, squinting up at the sun while grabbing a brush.

"I actually got one right; I'm pretty proud."

Yeonjun shook his head at him, fond smile on his face, and grabbed his brush as well. They painted in silence for a while. Not an awkward silence; a calm welcoming one.

And Yeonjun's painting looked like shit. He didn't know how Soobin did it, mixing all these different colors that mirrored the sun perfectly, even though the sky was ever slowly getting darker. At some point he turned on the music of his iPhone, some unfamiliar tune blasting even though he could guess the voice.

"Justin Timberlake?" Yeonjun asked.

And Soobin nodded, a small smile on his face. "And Jay-Z later. It's pretty sick."

"What's it called?"

"Holy Grail."

Yeonjun hummed at that, and when it turned to the hook, he couldn't help swaying a bit because it was catchy, okay? He side-eyed Soobin, who was still painting, but his hips were moving to the beat and he was also singing under his breath.

"Seriously? Is there anything that you can't do?"

Soobin paused completely, hand even halting over his painting. "What?"

"You can sing, too," Yeonjun told him, "And you can paint, and you can dance."

"I'm not — that wasn't," Soobin frowned. "I wasn't dancing."

Yeonjun took a long breath. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. "C'mere."

"What?"

Yeonjun put his brush down, waving Soobin over before he lost whatever confidence he seemed to muster. "C'mon. Dance with me. Or, since you don't call that dancing, do what you were just doing."

The with me was left unsaid.

Yeonjun blamed his confidence on the alcohol for a second, but then he realized he hadn't even had any, while Soobin slowly put down his brush and paint, making his way over.

The ravenette cautiously put his arms around the blondie's waist; loosely, like he expected him to brush him off.

When Yeonjun didn't, Soobin curled his fingers a bit tighter, and then they were dancing.

It was awkward at first, because Soobin didn't really want to move, like he was embarrassed Yeonjun would call him terrible or something — which, judging by those hips, he was not.

"Relax," Yeonjun mumbled, and when the hook came on again, he hummed it, his arms tight around Soobin's torso.

Yeonjun still had paint on his fingers and he told Soobin that somewhere near the end of the song, and he scrunched his nose at him, speaking over Justin Timberlake to tell him, "If you touch me with them, I'm gonna kill you."

JT's voice kept blaring over the iPhone, and Yeonjun gave him a challenging look, his face so close that he could count his eyelashes. "Really?"

"Really."

"We'll see," Yeonjun grinned, and the hook played one more time.

One day you're here,

Yeonjun swiped one amber-covered finger across an undefined dimple making Soobin let out a whine, but that was it.

One day you're there,

Deep violet pressed into the other.

One day you care—

"You're so unfair," Soobin whispered along at the end, a slight smile in his voice, fingers skirting up Yeonjun's spine.

Yeonjun felt like fire under Soobin's fingertips, and as the song faded out, so did his confidence.

Soobin's hands slowly fell from Yeonjun's and he looked up, inkblot lashes almost dipping into the paint smeared high on his cheekbones.

And Yeonjun was frozen under Soobin's gaze, his body tingling with pinpricks where his hands had moved and he pulled his own hands from his waist when they were no longer dancing.

Some Usher track Yeonjun had heard but never memorized started up in the background, and the only thing he could say was —

"Well. The dancing fear's down too."

Soobin didn't say anything for a second before he backed up from him, running his fingers through his hair. "Kind of want some alcohol; not drunk enough."

Yeonjun nodded, licking his lips. "Yeah. Me too."

Though the only thing he really, really, wanted was for Soobin to kiss him.

And then everything was paint stains and wine glasses, and somewhere in the midst of that, Yeonjun realized he was in love.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun didn’t visit the shop for five days after that.

It wasn’t a conscious decision, honestly, he just always found some reason to not have to go there. He felt that maybe he had crossed a line of some sort when he asked Soobin to dance.

They hadn’t done anything after that — they drank and giggled themselves silly until the sky was inky black and the moon was just a sliver in the sky, and then Soobin just told him to leave everything else there and he’d get it the next day. Yeonjun gave him a brief, sheepish goodbye, and that was that.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Beomgyu.”

“You are,” His best friend insisted, rubbing his palm over the harsh bricks outside of the tattoo shop.

Beomgyu had dragged Yeonjun here today, partly because he was getting another ink, and partly because he was tired of him moping around. His words, not Yeonjun's, because he didn’t think he was moping, exactly. Not really. Okay, maybe he was. But just a little.

“You could’ve kissed him,” Beomgyu groaned out, low voice even slower. “You should’ve kissed him. Then if he freaked out or something, you could’ve blamed it on the alcohol.”

“Neither of us were drunk enough for that,” Yeonjun insisted back, pressing his back against the wall. Because, in his defense, they so totally weren’t. Tipsy, maybe. Buzzed, definitely. But not drunk. “And then it would’ve been awkward, and—”

“Who cares?” Beomgyu gave him a sharp look. “Really, Jun. You’ve got to learn to take some risks. You did that with the tattoo, and it led you to Soobin. You painted in his art room with him, and he told you that you were — what did he say — he told you that you were cathartic. You still talked to him even when you knew that he was in a bad mood and he opened up to you. Both Huening Kai and Taehyun, his best friends told you that it takes a lot for him to open up. But he opened up to you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun bit his lip.

It did, of course, but it’s not like he wanted to get too ahead of himself. He didn’t want to think Soobin liked him when he was just a stress-reliever for.

“Gyu—”

“It’s not that easy, I know,” Beomgyu scoffed, rolling his eyes. He clutched onto the door of the tattoo shop, fingers curling around the handle. “I just — I expected a lot more from you, you know? You’re smart.”

And then Beomgyu disappeared inside the parlor, and Yeonjun hated himself. He hated when he felt like he was disappointing Beomgyu, because that rarely happened.

Beomgyu never really got upset; it was so hard to make him anything but lax smiles and dimples. But what did he expect from Yeonjun?

Yeonjun couldn’t just jump onto Soobin and attack him with his lips just because he felt like it. He guessed Beomgyu didn’t get it because everybody liked him, loved him, even.

Beomgyu could get away with murder with just a smile because he was just so charming.

But Yeonjun — he was not like that. And he wished he was — of course he wished he was, but he couldn’t help but take every precaution, because he didn’t want to get his heart broken, okay?

People didn’t typically like Yeonjun. People didn’t typically choose him.

Especially not somebody like Soobin; somebody so gorgeous and talented and smart.

He could have anybody, anybody that he wanted, and what Beomgyu didn’t realize was that when he did have a choice like that, there was no way that Soobin was choosing Yeonjun.

So yes, Yeonjun could’ve kissed Soobin.

He could’ve.

But for what?

Why would he risk Soobin hating him — detesting him — when he had this?

When Yeonjun was content with what they had, this friendship, or whatever you wanted to call it — why would he ruin that by kissing him when he knew that he wouldn’t kiss him back?

Yeonjun took a breath, running his fingers through his hair. Beomgyu didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it. But he needed to calm down now, because he could feel himself getting worked up, could feel the hysteria in his veins and — he needed to calm down.

Yeonjun needed something cathartic.

And how bleeding funny was it that the only thing cathartic for him right now was the source of all of this emotion himself.

Heaving a sigh, Yeonjun pushed himself from the wall, and entered the tattoo parlor.

When he first walked in, Huening Kai was there, sitting in a chair with his feet propped up on the little side table, magazine in hand.

“You and Beomgyu fought.” He said without even looking up. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.”

“He’s right, you know.”

“Kai, I don’t want to hear from you too, okay? I’m sorry but —”

“Art room,” Huening Kai said, cutting him off completely. He looked up from his magazine and his eyes were so, so blue. “Soobin's in his art room.” He twisted his mouth. “But.” He stopped. “Never mind. You’ll see. He’s in his art room. And have you seen Taehyun today?”

“I haven’t,” Yeonjun told him quickly, and then heaved another sigh before heading down the familiar hallway. When he reached the door, he knocked quickly, but there was no response.

Yeonjun knocked again, but nothing. He slowly inched open the door.

“I’m just saying — Soobin, adeul—”

“Mum.”

That was Soobin, and he was talking to the woman standing in front of him, a little shorter than him but at first glance you could tell that she had just as much, if not more, spunk and personality.

“We’ve been over this. I’m not—”

“Think about it, Soobin!” The woman, his mum, cut him off. “All I’m asking you to do is think about it!”

“I already have, Mum,” Soobin answered back lowly, and Yeonjun felt like he was intruding. He was most definitely intruding but he couldn’t find it in himself to back away.

Soobin swiped his arms across the room, motioning to the various art pieces he’d made. “You see this? This is what I like doing.”

“You can’t keep doing that for the rest of your life.”

Soobin narrowed his eyes, and Yeonjun had never seen so much anger etched onto his face before. He looked terrifying. “Watch me.”

His mum let out a string of words that Yeonjun didn’t understand but Soobin very clearly did, because his face got even more pinched, and then he was growling something back, and Yeonjun was pretty sure that they were speaking a foreign language.

After a second his mum let out a sigh and turned a bit, and oh no. Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

Yeonjun cleared his throat when Soobin spun around in surprise, pushing open the door. “I’m, um—”

“Yeonjun?”

“Yeonjun,” His mum echoed. “And you are?”

“He’s a friend, mum,” Soobin rolled his eyes, but already the tension in the room had diffused a little, and he wasn’t doing it unkindly. “Don’t attack him.”

“I’m not attacking him,” She quickly defended, and Yeonjun inched slowly into the room. “I just like to know your acquaintances, sonshine. It’s about time you’ve found a friend that’s not Huening Kai or Taehyun, or that boy with the arms…”

“Namjoon?” Yeonjun laughed out, and she nodded.

“Yes, Namjoon. He’s the one that boxes, isn’t he?”

Yeonjun nodded. “He definitely boxes.”

Soobin's mum laughed and she seemed so different from the lady that was just snapping at her son. Yeonjun didn’t have room to judge though.

“Yeah, Namjoon.” She turned back to Soobin. “It’s just nice to see you have new beautiful friends—”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Soobin sighed out at her, and she offered him a little smile.

“I just want the best for you, you know that. With everything.”

Yeonjun cleared his throat, then, even though it wasn’t his place at all to intervene. “Right, um, and about that — I couldn’t help but overhear a bit, and, um,” Yeonjun bit his lip because she was raising her brows at him, clearly interested in what he had to say, “Your son — his art is lovely.”

She gave him a little smile. “He’s quite talented, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Yeonjun nodded, then twisted his mouth, rocking on his heels. “Like, we painted sunsets and mine was horrible, but his was really good, and—” Yeonjun let out a breath. “That’s really not the point. What I wanted to say is that, I know you want the best for him, but making you happy isn’t going to make him happy. And um—”

She was staring at Yeonjun, and suddenly it felt really hot in this room.

“Doesn’t every parent just want their kids to be happy? I mean, he can have a great job and have everything that you want him to have and hate you for it — not saying that’d he’d hate you, obviously, but you know — or you could let him do what he wants and let him have what he wants and let him be happy with it. Isn’t that best thing, then?”

It was silent for a moment, and then she opened her mouth to speak. “I think I like you, Yeonjun.”

And he was dumbfounded. “You think you... like me?”

She nodded, turning a smile to Soobin.

“He’s a good one, sonshine. Now,” She waved between then, “I’m going to leave so you two friends can do what friends do, but you know I’m going to be back, right Soobin?” She paused, and turned to Yeonjun, smile gracing her lips. “Maybe not so harsh, though.”

“Yeah, I know,” Soobin shook his head lightly, sticking his hands in his pocket. “Bye Mum. Love you.”

“Love you too, as always,” She responded, patting Yeonjun on the shoulder before exiting the room.

Soobin let out a breath once she left. “She thinks we’re dating," He explained, “Hence all the suggestiveness. I really don’t have a lot of beautiful friends.”

Yeonjun nodded. “Oh.”

What else was he supposed to say?

“Beomgyu's mad at me.”

“Is that why you’re here now?” Soobin asked, but there was no smile on his face and Yeonjun really, really didn’t want to fight with him too. Not today. Not Soobin. “You’re only here because you can’t go to Beomgyu; right. Of course.”

“No,” Yeonjun told him, shaking his head with enough force that he looked to see if he was okay. “We fought right before I came in here. We were already here. We were coming anyway.”

Soobin crossed his arms. “Were you?”

“Soobin,” Yeonjun frowned. “I don’t want to fight with you. Yes, we were coming anyway.”

He sighed, walking a little bit closer to him and then stopped, like he was rethinking himself. “I’m being stupid, I’m sorry. Today just hasn’t — my mum always kind of plays with my emotions. I’m sorry, really.”

“Stop apologizing,” Yeonjun sighed to him, shaking his head. “I’m not exactly being pleasant either.”

“You got my mum off my back,” Soobin grinned. “She’ll probably be back, but, you know. Peace for now. I think I could hug you for that.”

Yeonjun held his breath, thinking about what Beomgyu said about taking risks, and spread his arms wide. “Well come on then.”

Soobin raised his brows but didn’t say anything, biting his lip before wrapping Yeonjun into a hug.

And God, he smelled really good.

Yeonjun meant, he wasn’t exactly surprised, being that it was Soobin, but he couldn’t stop himself from getting that much closer to him; breathing him in. It was like they were dancing again, only much, much closer.

“Jun?” He asked after a moment, voice not louder than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Do you—” Soobin paused, and Yeonjun didn’t even have to see his face to know that he was scrunching his nose in the way that he always did. “Never mind.”

Yeonjun pulled back a bit, back enough to look him in the face, but still close enough that if he moved just this much, their noses would be brushing. “Tell me.”

And Soobin's lips were so close.

But even with Beomgyu's advice, Yeonjun couldn’t do that yet. Not now. Not when they were hugging. Not like this.

“I was just,” Soobin bit his lip again, and they nearly touched Yeonjun's in doing so, “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“I won’t.”

Soobin moved his head back so Yeonjun wouldn’t have to see him, chin leaning down on his shoulder. “I just — do you like Namjoon?”

“Do I like Namjoon?” Yeonjun asked. “I mean, of course I do, but — oh. You mean—”

“Never mind.”

Yeonjun pulled back from him completely. He didn’t want to, but it seemed like he should, and he put his hands on Soobin's shoulders instead, forcing him to look at him. “No. Not never mind. And I don’t.”

“Oh.” Soobin stuck his hands in his pocket. “Good.”

“Good? Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason. But, hey, do you think that you and Beomgyu will be okay, or do I have to go beat him up for you?”

Yeonjun grinned at him, shoving his shoulder, and he took a few steps back, laughing. “We’re good, I think. We’re okay. Should I go beat up your mum?”

Soobin grinned at that, shaking his head. “No way. She might look small, but she packs a mean punch, trust me.”

“And you’ve had the pleasure of finding that out?”

The ravenette at least had the decency to look sheepish. “I might’ve stolen her car once. And wrecked it.”

“You stole her car?”

“It was Taehyun's’ idea!”

“Naturally.”

Soobin grinned. “Yeah. Naturally. But, um, we’re okay too, right? Like, I know I kind of went out of line, but—”

“Soobin,” Yeonjun stopped him, shaking his head. “We’re definitely okay, yeah? Don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “We’re okay.”

And they were, for now.

Chapter Text

In his following visit, three days later, Yeonjun learned something vitally important — Soobin drove a motorcycle.

He hadn’t really noticed because he’d always been at the tattoo parlor before him, but today Yeonjun was sitting in his car, trying to stuff his face with the last of his Subway sandwich, and Soobin pulled up on a motorcycle.

It was bright, a flashy red, and you could definitely tell that he took care of it.

Yeonjun had no qualms about the fact that it was Soobin's when he saw it in the first place, but the leather jacket rolled up to his elbows, plus the numerous tattoos sneaking up his sleeve was a good clue too.

It helped with his bad boy persona, he supposed, but honestly it was just really, really hot.

Yeonjun continued to finish up his sandwich, watching as Soobin straddled the bike, taking off his helmet and running his fingers through his hair before kicking his leg over and turning to head into the shop.

Soobin turned about halfway before he stopped, though, squinting in Yeonjun's direction before a grin broke out on his face and: oh God he saw me, and oh God I have ranch dressing on my face, Yeonjun panicked internally.

Yeonjun tried to discreetly grab a napkin and wipe it, but Soobin waved to him and started making his way over to his car.

How typical.

When Soobin reached the car he leaned against the hood, fingers tapping against the windshield with some sort of amused grin on his face. Yeonjun gave up all pretense of being interested in his sandwich and wrapped the rest of it up, putting it back in the bag before grabbing his keys and exiting the car.

“Hey,” Yeonjun smiled easily, and Soobin looked up, grin still in place. He was oddly happy, for whatever reason.

Soobin wrinkled his nose in this cute sort of fashion, motioning at Yeonjun's face. “You’ve got a bit of lettuce in your teeth there, Jun.”

And oh God, could this get any more embarrassing?

Not only did Soobin have the pleasure of basically seeing Yeonjun inhale the sandwich like he hadn’t eaten in a month, but now there was lettuce in his teeth. He wondered where the nearest ditch was so he could just throw himself in it. He covered his mouth with his hands, obviously, stuttering out something stupid while a blush spattered down his neck.

And just when Yeonjun was getting ready to turn his back and pick it out in shame, Soobin giggled. Like an actual, high-pitched, really cute, oh-my-God-why-am-I-so-in-love-with-you giggle.

“I’m kidding,” Soobin snorted, shaking his head. “There’s nothing there.” When Yeonjun narrowed his eyes in disbelief, the ravenette put his hands up in surrender. “I promise this time. Really, you’re fine.”

Yeonjun ran his tongue over his teeth anyway before he reluctantly let himself believe him, shooting him a glare. “Jerk.” Soobin only grinned at that, and he raised his brows at him. “What’s got you in such a good mood today anyway?”

Soobin leaned up from the hood, uncrossing his arms. Even as he straightened himself out, though, the look of pure fondness never left his face. “Hung out with my siblings all day yesterday and my mum didn’t like, mess with me about my stuff or anything. And Hana — that’s my little sister — says she wants a tattoo and my parents are actually considering letting me do it — when she’s a little older, of course. It’s great.”

And it was cute, how giddy he was.

Yeonjun knew that family meant a lot to him, and he guessed that being able to be around them all day without anybody badgering him was a big deal. “That’s cute. I’m happy for you.”

“Actually really cute,” Soobin corrected with a grin, and Yeonjun decided right then that maybe having happy-Soobin around all the time would not be beneficial to his health, because breathing became a little harder with every passing smile.

“So does she know what she wants, or….” Yeonjun trailed off when he rolled his eyes lightly.

“She wants a butterfly. She’s such a girl.”

The blondie crossed his arms, tilting his chin up in defiance. “Just because you like butterflies does not mean anything.”

Soobin snorted then, shaking his head. “Name one guy with a butterfly tattoo and—”

“Beomgyu has one on his stomach,” Yeonjun shot back, and Soobin's eyes widened before he started laughing again. “It’s huge — like, nipple-to-nipple huge, I swear.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Soobin asked lightly, shaking his head before sighing. He looked up at the parlor then. “I’m technically supposed to be working, you know.”

“Sorry. You can get to work then.”

He shook his head again, smile a bit softer this time. “Would rather be out here. You know, like, instead. Would rather talk to you.”

And just like that it was like a switch had been flicked, the atmosphere turning into something a lot more shy and careful.

“Give me something to talk about so I have a reason not to go in there. Jungkook won’t care.”

Yeonjun thought for a second, his mind suddenly going blank of anything to say. His eyes darted around the parking lot before he stopped, smiling. “You have a bike. A really nice red bike that I never noticed before.”

Soobin nodded, face lighting up again — like it so often did when he started to talk about a topic he liked, Yeonjun noticed. “I bought it myself; I got it because I was still going through that rebellious phase with my parents, really, and you know, most parents don’t exactly like motorcycles because they’re loud and ‘dangerous’. I just thought I was cool.”

“Adds to that whole bad boy thing you’ve got going on there,” Yeonjun added, and the other male snorted.

“For the longest time,” Soobin ducked his head then, “Taehyun actually called me the Bad Boy Bunny. He’s so embarrassing.”

“Taehyun likes nicknames then,” Yeonjun noted, and he raised his brows. “Namjoon is Puppy Kim?”

Soobin let out a noise of recognition, nodding. “Yeah. He likes nicknames, I guess. Huening Kai's just That Ratatouille Twat. He’s very affectionate — Taehyun.”

“Serious when he wants to be, though,” Yeonjun added with a nod, and Soobin's face did that soft thing again where you could see the endearment spilled across his face.

“Yeah. He’s really the best friend I could’ve ever asked for. He’s a proper dick, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders, you know?”

Yeonjun nodded, because he’d noticed that about Taehyun. He loved him about as much as he hated him, most of the time. “I get it, yeah.”

Taehyun was a peculiar character of sorts. He was very petite and curvy, all tight jeans and nice smiles and preppy shirts, but at the same time he was loose sweats with tank-tops; slouchy beanies and tattoos littered on his skin. He was so what Beomgyu would consider “pop punk” but at the same time completely not. Yeonjun thought about that.

“Taehyun’s like a giant juxtapose, isn’t he?”

Soobin groaned. “Another vocab word, okay. Lay it on me; what’s it mean?”

Yeonjun grinned, “Juxtaposition is like contrasting two things that are really different. Like Angel and the Devil. Or night and day, if you’re not into that.”

Soobin nodded, “Makes sense, I guess. You mean, like, how he’s all sarcastic and then sweet, right? Like a Sour Patch Kid?”

Yeonjun laughed, nodding, even though he was thinking more about the way he dressed than about his personality. “I guess so, yeah.” He thought for a second. “Do you let Taehyun ride your bike?”

Soobin gave him a long eye-roll, shaking his head. “Hell no. No way. I’ve barely let him touch it. He’d ruin it in like, five minutes.”

Yeonjun hummed at that; that was the answer he expected. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle. Seems cool though.”

“Another one of your fears?” Soobin asked, and the other shook his head.

“Just never had the opportunity, really.”

Soobin paused for a second, glancing at the key ring wrapped around his finger before glancing at his bike and back at Yeonjun. “You want to, then?”

The blondie's doe eyes widened. “Do I want to?”

“I mean, you know, I’d be on there with you,” Soobin assured quickly, clearing his throat. “Just, like. If you wanted to, because you’ve never ridden one.”

“You’re letting me on your bike?”

“I’m not letting you drive it,” Soobin clarified quickly. “I’m letting you ride. If you want to, because, like, it keeps me from having to go inside and you wanted to, anyway, so—”

Yeonjun crossed his arms. “And what if we crash?”

“We won’t crash.”

“But what if we do?”

He gave him an exasperated look. “Then we crash. But we won’t — here. We’ll drive around the parking lot, yeah? All nice and slow for you. How about that?”

Yeonjun nodded, narrowing his eyes. Soobin seemed genuine enough and he doubted that he’d drag him out on the street when he knew he didn’t want to. And Yeonjun found that, even if he was afraid of crashing, he wouldn’t mind if Soobin did, if that’s what he wanted to do.

“Okay. Fine. Around the parking lot.”

Soobin hummed, leading him back over to his bike. “It is a fear of yours, then. Knew it.”

Yeonjun crossed his arms, walking after him. “I’m not afraid of the bike. I’m afraid of crashing.”

“Well I’m not afraid of heights then,” Soobin called over his shoulder, grabbing his helmet from the handlebars. “I’m afraid of falling.”

Before Yeonjun could say anything to that, he handed him the helmet.

“Here. I only have one and, unlike you, I know we won’t crash.”

Yeonjun briefly stuck his tongue at him before securing the helmet, which was, like his bike, a bright red. Red looked good on him. Well anything looked good on him, honestly. “Thanks. So do I just hop on, or—?”

Soobin nodded at that, waiting for the other male to totter onto the back of the motorcycle before climbing on himself. Yeonjun wrapped his arms around Soobin's waist before he could feel any ounce of embarrassment, and he revved the engine in a very show-off way before he kicked the stand up.

“How mad would you be if I, like, ran us out onto the street?”

“Not mad, just anxious, probably.”

Soobin nodded at that, then chuckled. “Yeah, okay, I’m doing that then. Just, like, the block around here though; nothing too far. Promise.”

Yeonjun hummed a response, grabbing onto him a bit tighter before he slowly backed out of the parking space, turning around so that way they were headed out of the lot.

And it was fun.

It was scary, yeah, and when they turned the corner Yeonjun swore they were going to fall — and he feared for Soobin's safety more than his owns, because he wasn’t wearing a helmet — but it was fun.

They didn’t crash, just like he told him they wouldn’t, and they rode around for about five minutes or so before his phone rang.

Soobin pulled over to the side of the road and it turns out that it was Jungkook calling, because a group of people had come into the shop, and even though he really didn’t mind Soobin riding off when nobody was there, he needed to come in now.

Soobin apologized but it wasn’t really a problem being as Yeonjun was actually keeping him from his work, and he rode them back into the lot, parking it in the same space as before.

When they climbed off, Yeonjun handed him back the helmet, and Soobin grinned at him slowly until the corners of his eyes were crinkled.

“Okay Jun,” Soobin started, “when I tell you this, you have to promise not to smack me or anything, yeah?”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. Okay.”

“There really is a piece of lettuce in your teeth.”

And then Soobin ran off before Yeonjun could hit him.

Idiot.

Chapter Text

“I bet Soobin does,” Yeonjun huffed at Beomgyu, and he rolled his eyes at him, taking his hands off the steering wheel.

“Do you have to relate everything back to him?”

“Maybe. I bet he does, is the point.”

“So,” Beomgyu drummed his fingers on the center console, raising his brows. “If Soobin happened to jump off of a cliff—”

“You are not about to make that analogy, Choi Beomgyu,” Yeonjun chastised him, crossing his eyes and unclipping his seatbelt. “What are you, a mother?”

“Unfortunately,” His best friend drawled, all lax smiles and bright green eyes, following his lead and letting himself out of the car, “I don’t think I’ve got the right genitals for that position.”

Yeonjun scoffed at him and Beomgyu laughed, like he’d just made the world’s greatest joke, swinging his arm around his shoulder and pulling him to his body. They’d made up a day after the incident had occurred.It’s not like Beomgyu was mad at Yeonjun, exactly, he was just really frustrated that he wouldn’t make a move on Soobin.

Well, he had his reasons.

Eventually, Yeonjun broke down and told him everything, and while he sat there with pursed lips and a wrinkled brow, as soon as he was done, Beomgyu pulled him in tightly for a hug, wrapping his entire being around him and cocooning him in like a butterfly.

Beomgyu started by dotting kisses all around Yeonjun forehead, a mantra of “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful” following it.

And then he was telling him, “I didn’t know you felt like that; that you aren’t good enough for somebody like him. Because you are, okay? You definitely are so don’t ever feel like that again.”

And Yeonjun didn’t know exactly when he started crying, or why — because it felt so good to know that, even though Beomgyu was his best friend and was obligated to say this, he still thought he was great — but soon enough he was grabbing the seams of Beomgyu shirt, head buried into his chest and these ugly, wracking sobs leaving his body.

They sat like that for a while, Yeonjun crying and Beomgyu rubbing a hand on his back, telling him just how much he meant to him. When Yeonjun had eventually run out of tears, he pulled back, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Beomgyu frowned, pulling at his wrists.

“You look like shit,” He started, and then slowly his lips curled into a smile, “But guess what? You’re still beautiful enough and smart enough and even though you look like you’ve just crawled from the depths of hell, Soobin would still want to kiss you.”

And Yeonjun really loved Choi Beomgyu.

Now, Beomgyu pulled the door open for him, doing some dramatic gesture for a bow and letting him enter into the shop.

He grabbed at Yeonjun's wrist, legs longer than his, and dragged him along to where Huening Kai, Taehyun and Soobin were all gathered around the counter, this huge scrapbook in front of them.

“What’s that?” Beomgyu asked as they pattered to a stop, letting Yeonjun go to squeeze into the space between Huening Kai and Taehyun. Yeonjun went between Taehyun and Soobin, of course.

“Tattoo designs,” Huening Kai told them, “Taehyun thinks he wants a new one but he’s not sure what.”

Beomgyu's eyes lit up, pointing an accusing finger dangerously close to Yeonjun's face. “Ha! Aha! What did I tell you, Jun?”

He was talking about the conversation that they’d had in the car, and Yeonjun crossed his arms, rocking on his heels. Taehyun was impulsive.

“Taehyun doesn’t count.”

“Taehyun does count, thank you very much,” Taehyun defended himself, before actually looking up from the book. “Count for what?”

“Fine,” Beomgyu said evenly with a tilted chin, completely ignoring the other three boys who had absolutely no clue in what they were talking about, “Ask Soobin, then.”

“Fine,” Yeonjun shot back. He turned to his right to ask Soobin a question, but he didn’t realize that his face was so close. He could count the flecks of gold and honey in his eyes, and he blinked, frozen for a second. “Oh. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Soobin grinned back, and if Yeonjun just leaned in a little bit, if he just tilted his head — no. God no, what was he even thinking?

“Do your tattoos have any meaning, or do you just get them on the spot, like that?” Yeonjun asked instead, ducking his head and trying to put a little distance between them.

Distance was good.

Distance allowed him to catch his breath.

Instead of Soobin answering, though, it was Taehyun's voice that rang out next. “Oh God, he could write an entire novel about each of his tattoos. It’s ridiculous.”

Yeonjun crossed his arms, turning to Beomgyu. “See?”

“Soobin doesn’t count,” Beomgyu mocked him easily, smirk high on his lips, and Yeonjun stuck his tongue out at him.

“Shut up.”

“Why are we asking?” Soobin asked, leaning against the counter on his elbows.

And elbows weren’t supposed to be attractive.

And they weren’t.

They so totally weren’t.

Not even on Soobin.

Right.

They weren’t.

“I found this sketch of a bird that’d make a sick tattoo on Jun but he won’t get it because he said it doesn’t have meaning,” Beomgyu explained lightly, shooting Yeonjun a look like he was the Devil himself. “So we were arguing over whether tattoos had to have meaning or not.”

“Well I think they should,” Huening Kai shrugged, “Which is why I don’t have any. Nothing special enough to ink on my body forever, you know?” He then turned to Taehyun with a wrinkled nose. “Because I’m not going to ink a stickman on my arm, or anything.”

“Was that a jab at me, Huening?” Taehyun gasped, mock-offended, throwing a hand over his heart. “You’re a dick.”

“Oh I’m the dick? How about—”

“Hey,” Soobin whispered lightly to Yeonjun, knocking his shoulder into his while Huening Kai continued to yell at Taehyun, “I’m going for a smoke break. I know you’re, like, asthma, or whatever, but just wanted to tell you before I left you in this warzone.”

“I’ll come,” Yeonjun mumbled back, pushing off from the counter at the same time as he did, “Just, like, blow it in the opposite direction?”

“I can do that,” Soobin assured, patting his pocket to make sure he had what he needed. He nodded his head toward the exit, then, and the other trailed after him.

Beomgyu raised his brows with a knowing look, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes.

When they made it outside, Soobin leaned against the brick wall, looking the epitome of both badass and cool, already lighting up his cigarette by the time Yeonjun swung the door closed.

“Hi,” Soobin grinned, like he hadn’t just greeted him half-a-minute ago, and Yeonjun leaned against the wall as well.

“Hi yourself.”

“If this gets to be too much, tell me,” The ravennette told him, carefully blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

Yeonjun had never found smoking attractive before, and the habit itself wasn’t, but he couldn’t help but admit that it looked good on Soobin. Christ, for once, could something look bad on him?

“I was mostly coming out here to get away from those idiots,” Soobin informed him, “But I needed an excuse so, here we are. But I don’t mind putting it out.”

And Yeonjun could smell the smoke, and it wasn’t exactly appealing, but it wasn’t like he was dying, either. “I’m fine.”

Soobin nodded, looking up at the sky. “So, like, the whole tattoo thing?”

“Beomgyu wanted me to get a tattoo of a bird. It was pretty, but,” Yeonjun shrugged. “I didn’t have a reason for getting it. I wanted to have a reason.”

He nodded, eyes burning into where his dictionary tattoo sat. “So you have a reason for them, then?”

“Try to,” Yeonjun shrugged. “Yeah. And you do too, right?”

“Yeah,” Soobin balanced the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, motioning at his arms. “Ask me about any of them. Go ahead.”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes, running them along the ink on his arms. Before he could stop himself and say why it was such a bad idea to do this, he grabbed Soobin's arms, turning them over. There were a lot of them, and Yeonjun didn’t know which to pick. It didn’t help that his forearms were burning a hole in his palms, and he was probably blushing, which was sad.

Yeonjun couldn’t even touch Soobin without blushing. How did Beomgyu expect him to kiss him?

“That one,” Yeonjun mumbled out, finally just pointing to the giant zap! on his arm.

He groaned. “Of course that one. Basically I’m just a huge nerd, okay?”

Soobin sounded sheepish when he said it, and Yeonjun raised his brows. “What?”

“It’s like — I like comic books a lot, you know. Zap? Get it? It’s like a—”

“Oh,” Yeonjun nodded, “I got it.”

But he kept talking.

“When I was little I always wanted to be a superhero. Or a Power Ranger. Something — I just wanted to, like, save the world, you know?” Soobin let out a puff of smoke, and Yeonjun realized that he was still holding his arms.

Yeonjun dropped them quickly, and Soobin didn’t meet his gaze, running his hands down his face. “God. You probably think I’m an idiot.”

And Yeonjun thought they’d already established that Soobin could never look like an idiot in front of him. “No way. Zapman.”

“Oh my God.”

“Zapman,” Yeonjun repeated again, and he shook his head, obviously embarrassed.

“Please stop.”

“Zapman; saving the world, one poor, un-inked person at a time.”

Soobin snorted, knocking his side into Yeonjun's. “You’re ridiculous. Stop.”

“I thought it was cute. I could see you as a superhero.”

Soobin rolled his eyes lightly, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of his shoe before turning to Yeonjun. “You could also see me as a Lit teacher. You can see me as anything.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Soobin shrugged. “Guess not.” Nodding his head back toward the door, he started towards the shop. “You ready?”

“Do you change into Zapman at night?” Yeonjun asked him instead, trailing behind him.

Soobin grinned, “Shut up, Yeonjun.”

“You get like, a special costume? Spandex? All superheroes wear spandex.”

“Could you see me in spandex, too?”

Yeonjun could definitely see him in spandex.

“Maybe. I don’t think you have the ass for it.”

And it — it was so easy, bantering with Soobin like this, and Yeonjun hadn’t even realized that they were back with the others until Taehyun raised his voice. “Why are we talking about Soobin's ass? Did I miss something?”

“Nah,” Yeonjun grinned, shooting the ravenette a look.

Soobin smiled back, even though his arms were crossed and he was rolling his eyes. And maybe it was as easy as Beomgyu said it was. Maybe it was.

A lot easier than saving the world, at least.

Chapter Text

From: Taehyun.

is beomgyu busy? not answering my texts. also, is the twat at the shop? he’s not answering either.

To: Taehyun

he’s at class… and no, HUENING KAI (he has a name) is not here. maybe he’s avoiding you because you’re an asshole.

From: Taehyun

i’m appalled by that response, jun. and to think that i liked you.

Before Yeonjun could reply to Taehyun once more, he looked up at the pair of coffee eyes that had been peeking over his shoulder for the past two minutes. “Hi, Soobin.”

He didn’t answer for a second, brows folded with a thin frown on his face. Right as Yeonjun went to ask him what was wrong, his lips parted (even though he was pouting now, which was admittedly cute).

“Taehyun has your number?”

“Um,” Yeonjun faltered for a second. Was it bad that he had his number? Was he mad at him for giving Taehyun his number? “Yes?”

Soobin pouted again, crossing his arms over his chest like a child being told that they couldn’t eat the last cookie. “How come he has your number?”

“Because he asked for it?” It came out more like a question than a statement, and Yeonjun tugged down at the end of his sleeve. “Sorry? Should I not have, or—”

“No, no,” Soobin waved him off, leaning against the counter with a look on his face that he couldn’t place. “There’s nothing — like, I didn’t mean — he just asked you for it? Like, he just asked and you gave it to him?”

Yeonjun sent him a cautious look. “Are you mad?”

“No!” Soobin shot up then, shaking his head. “No, I’m not mad, just — if Taehyun has your number, I think that I should — can I have your number, basically?” He shot a smile then — well it was more a grimace really, and let out a sigh. “Sorry. Today’s not my day.”

“Not mine either,” Yeonjun shrugged easily, pointing his head in the direction of the window where the rain was steadily falling. “Beomgyu's stolen — and lost — both of my umbrellas. Well, lost one and kept the other.”

Didn’t matter either way, because he still had to result to pulling his hoodie over his head tightly, hustling toward the entry of the shop early. Cold November rain was not fun, he had learned.

Soobin let out some comment at that, clearing his throat before rattling off a set of numbers to him. When Yeonjun gave him a clearly confused look, he shot him a smile. “Sorry, it's my number. Just didn’t want to forget to give it to you.”

“Oh. Right. Say it again?”

Soobin repeated it to him and this time he managed to save it as a new contact before opening up a blank text.

To: Zapman

hi :)

Soobin looked at his phone briefly and let out a disbelieving groan.

From: Zapman

change my contact name. now

To: Zapman

okay

To: No Ass

better?

From: No Ass

ha. ha.

To: Mr. Spandex

now?

From: Mr. Spandex

jun.

To: Soobin

fine. no fun, you are :(

“I’m plenty fun, thank you very much,” Soobin responded easily, tucking his phone away in his pocket. “I’m loads of fun.”

“Really, are you?” Yeonjun made a mental note to change his contact name again once he got home, but he wouldn’t bother with it now.

“I am,” He nodded, eyes scanning around the room briefly, before they lit up. “Hey. Come on, follow me.”

And of course Yeonjun would follow him in a heartbeat, but that didn’t stop him from hesitating, giving him a long glance. “Where are we going?”

Soobin sighed, rolling his eyes lightly with a grin. “Surprises are all a part of the fun, Jun. Come on.”

He pursed his lips but didn’t ask him for anything more, because he knew that he wasn’t going to tell him. Instead, he followed him until he swung open the front door of the shop before shaking his head.

“Soobin. No. We’re not going outside.”

“Why not?” He asked, sounding all like a puppy.

Yeonjun shook his head. There was no way that he was giving in, even if Soobin continued to flutter his lashes like that, which was seriously unfair, by the way. “Because — this isn’t like a movie or something, Soobin. You could get sick — you could get hypothermia and die, did you know that? And this isn’t even fun.”

Soobin paused, one hand still holding the door open while the other was outstretched, catching raindrops on his fingertips. “You worry a lot. Have you noticed that?”

“I just don’t want to die.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “How many times do I have to promise you that I’ll keep you safe before you’ll believe me?”

“Soobin—” Yeonjun paused, before just biting his lip and sighing. “Fine. I’ll go along with this stupid, masochistic plan of yours. And when I die I’m coming back a ghost and killing you.”

The ravenette snorted at that, and the blondie hated him.

Yeonjun hated him because even though he hated this crazy idea — because he knew that it would only result in cold, wet clothes, two stuffy noses, and a hell of a lot of soup — he was still going along with it. He hated that he was so in love with him, really.

“You think everything’s going to kill you,” Soobin sighed softly, shaking his head before smiling — this beaming, blinding sort of smile. “But no need to fear. Zapman is here!”

“You’re an idiot.”

He shrugged. “I try.” Then, pushing the door back a bit wider he looked at the other male again. “So? Joining me or not?”

Of course Yeonjun was joining him. He knew that he was joining him the moment Soobin walked over to the door. “I guess so. If I have to. But I still don’t see what’s so fun about it.”

“Use your creativity,” Soobin answered, and he huffed at him, tentatively taking the final steps until he was outside.

Yeonjun was still covered a bit by, well, not the roof, but the roof apron, he supposed, so he wasn’t getting wet, but Soobin had already wandered all the way out, looking the definition of a soaked kitten.

His hair had immediately flattened in a soppy, inky mess around his forehead, and he swiped his fingers through it, shooting him a grin. “See, lots of fun. Join me.”

Yeonjun shook his head firmly, pressing his back against the semi-moist bricks of the shop and eyeing the rain that was falling in steady, thick ropes. “Like I said, Soobin, this isn’t a movie. Rainbows aren’t going to shoot out of the sky if I walk out there.”

“When you walk out here,” Soobin corrected easily, and then crossed his arms. “And at least we’d be sick together.”

“I’m not getting sick for you.”

Soobin sighed, moving back to where Yeonjun was, and shook his hair out of his eyes again, clothes completely soaked and hanging onto his limbs. “You ruined that for me. That was supposed to be fun, Jun. I thought you liked that.”

“No,” Yeonjun corrected, “Girls in movies like that. Because they never get sick after, like you’re going to.”

“I’m not going to be sick,” Soobin frowned, and then a second later he sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. “Okay, I’m probably going to be sick. And it’s cold as fuck out here, and that wasn’t really fun at all, and you were right and I hate you. Now can we get inside so I can change my clothes?”

Yeonjun pretended to think about it for a second, grinning at him and shaking his head. “No way. This is fun.”

“Jun.” Soobin tried to reach around him to grab at the door, but he blocked it with his body easily.

“But running out in the rain is sooo fun, Soobin.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Jun. I’m dripping.”

Yeonjun laughed at him, before moving from the door, opening it and halting him in his steps. “Jungkook's going to kill you when he gets back if you drip all over his floors. Stay here for a minute.”

“He won’t be back for a week,” Soobin whined, and the other shot him a look before turning on his heel.

“Do you guys have, like, towels somewhere? Like big towels?”

Soobin frowned, leaning his forehead against the glass door of the shop, pouting. “In my art room. I hate this.”

“It’s your own fault.”

Soobin sighed and Yeonjun continued back into his art room, and after a minute or so of searching he came back with two large, fluffy towels. At this point, he was still leaning against the door and the other took a second to just take him in.

Soobin was wearing a while Henley, and Yeonjun thanked God for whoever invented those in the first place because god. One boy should not possess that much attractiveness. If Yeonjun ever met his mother again, he’d have to profusely thank him.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Soobin called and he blinked, stepping forward and pulling open the door slightly, just enough to hand him a towel. He accepted it graciously, toweling off his hair before patting himself down and taking the other one from Yeonjun, wrapping it around himself.

Yeonjun had once heard that you should stay away from boys that looked good with wet hair, and if that was true, then he needed to run for the hills.

“I need to change,” Soobin groaned once he was finally inside, kicking off his shoes. There was nobody here but them — Jungkook was on vacation, and nobody really wanted to come get a tattoo while it was raining. “I’ve got, like, spare clothes in the back, so I’m going to, just. Yeah.”

Yeonjun nodded at him. “And not to say I told you so, but that wasn’t very fun for me.”

Soobin bared his teeth at him, pulling the towel closer. “I hate you. I hate everything.” He stopped for a second when he saw his face light up. “There’s a word for that, isn’t there?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Misanthropy. Well, it’s hating everyone, but close enough. A misanthropist superhero. How about that.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, and Yeonjun grinned. “Going to tie your towel around your neck as a cape?”

“I don’t have Spandex.”

“You don’t need Spandex. That shirt is tight enough.”

Soobin raised his brows at that, and Yeonjun realized how it sounded, but it’s not like he could take it back.

“Yeah, changing,” The ravenette said instead, and the blondie was grateful that he didn’t delve into that too much. “I should change.”

“You should,” Yeonjun nodded, and cleared his throat. “And I bet you a tenner that you’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“You’re on,” Soobin nodded, and then grinned at Yeonjun before heading down the hallway. Moments later his head poked out from behind the door of his art room, hair still criminally tousled and bare up to his waist. “I hope you’re ready to pay up, though.”

“Why?”

Soobin grinned. “Superheroes don’t get sick.”

Chapter Text

“It's not funny, man, leave me alone,” Soobin grunted, kicking at Huening Kai's legs with his foot.

Huening Kai continued to laugh at him, dodging the kicks and plopping down next to Taehyun on the couch.

“It’s fucking hilarious is what it is, dude,” He snorted, covering his mouth when Soobin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “C’mon. Think about it. You’re sick, he was right, and you owe him money.”

“It’s not—” Soobin sneezed, thankfully grabbing a tissue and letting out a groan, “—funny. My throat hurts and I can’t breathe out of my nose and it’s too warm in here and, added to that, Taehyun can’t even make soup right.”

“You eat it, don’t you?” Taehyun piped up then, turning his head slightly from where he was in an intense FIFA game with Namjoon, sending a sharp glare before looking at the screen again. “Don’t blame me because you thought it’d be fun to dawdle in the rain.”

“Did you just say dawdle?”

Before Taehyun could answer Huening Kai's question, Soobin interrupted.

“But that’s the point. I didn’t think it was fun. Why the hell would standing out in the freezing rain be fun?”

“Not following you anymore, Bin,” Namjoon responded lightly, in a very Namjoon, gentle way that really meant what are you even saying.

Soobin groaned, sneezing once more before toeing at the god-awful soup Taehyun had made and picking it up from the coffee table. “I was going to kiss him.”

“Sorry,” Taehyun promptly paused the game, making a complete ninety degree turn to face him. “Come again? I thought I just heard you say that you were going to grow a pair of balls.”

Soobin glared at him, taking a sip of his soup and tried not to grimace at the taste. “I said I was going to kiss him. In the rain. Because people like that stuff.”

“Except he didn’t like that, and wouldn’t go out in the rain with you,” Huening Kai added, like it all made sense.

“Yeah. And it was, like, the perfect time because nobody else was there so if he rejected me—”

“He wouldn’t,” Namjoon said.

“—if he did, nobody would be around to see.” Soobin continued.

“You really planned this out, didn’t you?” Taehyun teased him lightly, shit-eating grin on his face. “Except he completely ruined it. Shame.”

“And so now you’re sick and you didn’t even get to kiss him.”

“Yes, Huening Kai, thank you for restating the obvious.”

“Hey,” the blond shrugged easily, “Not my fault you can’t get any.”

“Are you going to try again?” Namjoon asked, interjecting into what was probably going to turn into an argument. “Like, are you going to try to kiss him again?”

“No,” Soobin answered flatly, because he wasn’t. Obviously the universe was sending him a sign; two big, red flags of CAUTION: HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU BACK. YEONJUN DOES NOT. LIKE YOU. BACK.

“Soobin.”

“What?” He snapped, clearing his throat when it felt all scratchy and dry.

Taehyun pursed his lips, staring at Soobin before grabbing his remote again and unpausing his game. “Nothing, you dick.”

And Soobin hated to make Taehyun angry.

See, with Namjoon it was simple; he never really got angry, just upset in a way that made you feel so, so bad until you were apologizing a thousand times.

Huening Kai was simple too. When he was mad at you, it was over pretty quickly. He was the kind of guy that cried when he was frustrated, so he’d just yell and scream and curse at you until his cheeks were red, his chest was heaving, and tears were streaming down his face. Then he’d pull you into a hug and tell you how much he fucking loves you even though you’re a goddamn prick.

But Taehyun... he was different.

It wasn’t particularly difficult or easy to make him mad; different things set him off. But he was different. He was like a cold, desolate winter when he got mad and Soobin hated it so, so much.

“Why are you mad at me?”

When Taehyun didn’t answer, Soobin snuck up behind where he was sitting on the carpet, rubbing his head against his cheek.

Taehyun moved his head but didn’t swat him away, so that meant something.

“Hyunnie.”

“Not mad,” Taehyun mumbled, eyes on the telly, “Just want the best for you and you make it so fucking hard.”

“M’sorry.”

“No you’re not,” He sighed, easily scoring past Namjoon's goalie. He ran his fingers through Soobin's hair briefly. “But I love you anyway. Now get away before you get me sick. I’m too pretty for that.”

“Pretty sure I'm the prettiest one here,” Huening Kai added helpfully, glancing up from his phone. “But Taehyun's right, man.”

“Of course you think he's right. You think Taehyun hung the goddamn moon, or something.”

“Namjoon also thinks I’m right,” Taehyun chimed in then, shoving the boy with his elbow. “Don’t you, Kim?”

“I do.”

“The hell, Joon?” Soobin frowned, because he was always on his side, even when he was wrong. “C’mon.”

“Well he’s right.”

“Namjoon.”

“What?”

Soobin sighed, shuffling back over to the couch and blowing his nose. “I hate all of you. That's why I’m a misanthropist, I guess.”

“A what?”

“Jun taught me it. Means I hate everyone.”

“You think Yeonjun hung the moon,” Huening Kai snorted, throwing his words back at him and shaking his head in this fond sort of way. “And the sun too.”

Soobin only flipped him off, reaching over on the sofa to claw his phone closer, opening up a new text.

To: Jun Originality

turns out superheroes can get sick after all :(