Chapter Text
Jisung could feel strong but delicate hands gliding against his sides in swift upstrokes, a barely-there touch that made him sag back against the broad chest behind him and whimper at the back of his throat. The hands felt cold against his heated skin, having sneaked under his flimsy tank-top at some point without him realizing, and it just added up to the slight trembles coursing through his frame.
When plump lips brushed against the side of his neck, he rolled his head back, resting it on a firm shoulder, making space for those wonderful lips to keep on tracing wet patterns on his sensitive skin. It felt good, great, but not nearly enough, another whimper lodging in his throat.
As if sensing his restlessness, the person behind him shifted forward, pressing his long and lithe body closer to him, making his skin heat up even higher. “Jisungie, more?”
The words were whispered directly against his ear, plump lips caressing the outer shell, eliciting another whimper from Jisung. “Y-yes, yes.”
“Mmh, so eager…” The voice was low but kind of high-pitched in a way that made Jisung’s insides tingle, his mind registering that peculiar tone as familiar somewhere under the thick layer of desperation clouding all of his senses. It made his hairs stand on end.
“What do you want, Sungie?” One of the hands on his body suddenly strayed away from his flank, circling Jisung’s waist and moving towards his front, caressing his toned torso and drawing barely-there circles on his navel.
Jisung felt dizzy, his head and senses bottled up in a way that prevented him from forming coherent sentences. He wanted a lot of things, too many for his poor fried brain to process in his current state. In the end, he whispered a trembling, “Y-you”.
The person behind him hummed appreciatively, the hand resting against his waist sneaking out from under his tank-top and moving upwards to cradle Jisung’s jaw in a soft grip. “Then open your eyes, Jisung. I’m right here.”
Something deep in his gut twisted uncomfortably at the idea of opening his eyes, not even the slight caresses on his navel, too close to where Jisung hurt the most, were enough to distract him from the feeling. “C’mon Jisung, look at me.”
The voice was demanding now, hot exhales grazing his ear and the grip on his chin tightening slightly, prompting him to do as told. Jisung hesitated but, after two, three more seconds, he opened his eyes and immediately felt his breath hitch, catching on his throat painfully.
He recognized the room as soon as he opened his eyes, tall mirrors covering the wall in front of him all the way up to the ceiling: their dance studio. They were very close to them, and there was no way for Jisung to miss his own reflection, to escape the image in front of him. Strong arms circled his torso from behind, the hand under his tank-top still drawing patterns on his navel non-stop while the other was keeping his head in place, forcing him to take it all in.
The uncomfortable feeling in his gut got ten times worse when his eyes caught sight of blond, long locks brushing against his cheek. The feeling was strong enough for him to try and close his eyes once again, but the strong hand gripping his chin tightened up, startling him. “No. Look up, Jisung. C’mon.”
Jisung shuddered, mind reeling in discomfort. He didn’t want to drag his eyes up but, in the end, he gave up, feeling like the air had been punched out of him the moment he took in the whole image. Strong jaw, slanted and half-hooded eyes with a mole underneath, narrow nose, unbelievably soft-looking and plump lips. Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.
“Do you like what you see?” The boy whispered against his ear, a smirk curling his lips.
At those words, Jisung’s brain finally found a term to describe the uncomfortable feeling wrenching his gut: guilt.
Jisung woke up with a start, breath labored and heart beating at a maddening pace against his ribs. He was sweaty, he could feel the T-shirt he had slept in sticking to his back uncomfortably and the normally too-thin sheets suffocating against his shins. It had happened again, and the thought alone was enough to amplify to an unbearable level the by now familiar guiltiness clenching in his gut. Please, please not again.
With unstable legs, Jisung got out of bed in a hurry, body navigating the darkness of his room with an easiness that could only be achieved after countless nights of having to crawl into his bed without waking up his roommate at ungodly hours. Passing the hallway, a quick glance at the digital clock confirmed to him that it was 4 a.m.
His eyes took some time to get used to the blinding lights of the bathroom, but he made quick work of the lock, effectively closing the door against his back and taking in a deep, shaky breath. He waited for two, three heartbeats amidst the deafening silence of the room and only after making sure that no one had heard him and followed him somehow, he allowed himself to break down.
Letting his back slide down the cold surface of the door, he felt hot, salty tears tracing down his cheeks. Jisung was familiar with the pressure building in his chest, always present in some way or another when he was feeling particularly stressed out by a situation. Sometimes it happened in airports or fan-meetings, sometimes in circumstances where he was put on the spotlight when he was not in the right mindset, and, other times, he would already wake up with that oppressing feeling well-lodged in between his ribs. But the pressure always felt somehow different when it was caused because of this. More vicious, more intense, swallowing up all rational thinking.
His breaths stuttered out of his mouth in short staccatos, worsening the dizziness already clouding his head and Jisung braced himself for what felt like a full blown-out anxiety attack. He wanted to lie to himself and think that it had been a long time since he had last suffered one, but the reality was that no more than four nights ago Jisung had found himself in that exact same position: back against the bathroom door, hunched on in himself and shaking with guiltiness after having had another dream about Hyunjin.
God. Only thinking about his name was enough to make him double over, arms wrapping around his own middle in a desperate attempt to stop the guiltiness from spreading any further to every single cell in his body. The feeling was all-consuming but Jisung forced himself to feel it all, take it all in. As punishment. As a lesson.
It hurt as bad as it did all those years ago, when it all had started, but it wasn’t any easier to deal with now.
++
16
Jisung remembered the first time as clear as glass. It was November and some trainees had gathered for a dinner together since they had just survived another monthly showcase evaluation, the anxiousness and nerves still vividly burning inside their veins. Hyunjin was sitting next to him swallowed up by his long puffy coat, hands shivering from the cold autumn wind.
Jisung observed his profile from the corner of his eye, he knew that this had been one of the first evaluations for the guy but, despite that, he had undoubtedly gathered lots of attention once again. He could kind of see why; he definitely had the looks and dancing skills for it. Jisung liked to think that, after being testimony of so many trainees coming and going, he had become quite good at perceiving talent and, well, Hyunjin did have talent, albeit still in its early stages.
“I swear my hands have stopped working,” Hyunjin’s voice startled Jisung out of his reverie, effectively making him divert his gaze to the bowl of ramen in front of him. “Whose brilliant idea was it to come to this place, again?”
“Dude, it’s cheap and close to the dorms. Not our fault you decided to order cold noodles in November,” Suyeon, one of the oldest trainees at the time piped up from the end of the table.
Hyunjin rolled his eyes and murmured under his breath something akin to, “as if it would make much of a difference when it’s literally minus 15 degrees outside.” Jisung hid his smile with a mouthful of ramen.
He liked the guy; he was loud, easy-going when in a good mood and accepted crap from no one without a valid reason. And passionate, very, very passionate, which Jisung appreciated very much. They had gotten along quite well since Hyunjin first made it into JYP’s trainee body, and although he looked a bit intimidating at first glance, the boy was endearingly socially awkward most of the time. And, well, Jisung could definitely relate. Hence, as one of the trainee veterans of JYP, he had made it his duty to take Hyunjin under his wing.
“There you go,” Jisung said in a low voice. Taking advantage of the rest of trainees being distracted by a discussion on who was the hottest member of TWICE, Jisung shoved his rattled pair of gloves to the shivering boy next to him.
“Huh, really? Aren’t you cold?” Hyunjin’s eyes widened at the gesture, making Jisung avert his gaze once again.
“I can at least grab my chopsticks.”
Hyunjin scoffed at his words but ended up putting on the gloves nonetheless as fast as his numb fingers allowed him to. “My parents are going on a business trip next week and I’ll have the house for myself. I’ve invited some of the guys on Sunday so, if you want to, feel free to join.”
Jisung lightened up at the idea. The majority of trainees came from outside of Seoul so it was very rare to have an opportunity like this to hang out outside of the crowded space of their tiny dorms. On top of that, he couldn’t remember the last time he had done something else apart from working on lyrics, producing tracks for showcase evaluations and practicing his rapping.
Nevertheless, he took another mouthful of ramen before answering Hyunjin, just for the sake of it. “Sounds good,” he finally replied after swallowing down. “Count me in.”
Hyunjin smiled brightly at him, eyes creasing and full lips parting to reveal a set of perfectly straight, pearly teeth. Looking back, Jisung would come to regard that exact moment as the first sign of trouble, his gut wrenching uncomfortably in a way that reminded him too much of butterflies at being on the receiving end of that blinding smile.
Hyunjin’s house had a modern, neat and clean feeling to it, neutral colors consistently present in all rooms. It smelled nice too, an almost imperceptible but familiar sweet and somehow musky scent pervading the air. Exactly like Hyunjin’s clothes, Jisung’s brain observed stupidly.
The sofa occupying the far end of the living room wasn’t spacious enough for the 5 of them to fit in, forcing Jisung and Hyunjin himself to take a seat on the floor, backs resting against it. They had been playing videogames for most of the afternoon after ordering the greasiest pizza their wallets could afford, when Park Jihoo, a guy Jisung wasn’t really acquainted with, pulled two bottles of soju out of his backpack.
“What is that?” A very young Yang Jeongin asked from his curled position against the armrest.
“Fun,” the guy simply said. “Hyunjinnie, where do your parents keep the shot glasses?” Jisung looked at Hyunjin's astonished expression, his eyes still glued to the two green bottles on the table. The room fell silent for a moment, everyone waiting to see the boy’s reaction.
Jisung could not say that he was surprised by the turn of events. In the end, he had found himself in similar situations quite often throughout his time as a JYP trainee; one could say it was both a gift and a curse of being treated as an equal by most of the oldest trainees in the company despite his age. He had been around long enough to earn the respect of almost all of them, and that frequently translated to him being invited to outings that would always end up revolving around alcohol at some point or another. Hyunjin, however…
The guy didn’t really strike Jisung as the type that would engage in that kind of behavior.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kim Seungmin finally said out loud, breaking the silence. He was talking to Jihoo but trying to make eye contact with Hyunjin instead, unsuccessfully.
Jisung knew that Hyunjin and Seungmin had become very close in a very short period of time, had seen them hanging out together almost every day at the dorms. He knew that, more frequently than not, the duo would be seen attached to the hip and doing everything together, always backing each other up. So, Jisung was naturally surprised when the taller murmured a quiet, “in the second cupboard on the left”.
Seungmin’s expression soured immediately.
Jisung did not know exactly how to feel about the whole situation in itself. In general, he was quite desensitized when it came to alcohol per se, although he hadn’t really drunk much of it himself besides for Changbin’s last birthday party. Nevertheless, the situation didn’t feel right at that moment.
After a couple of seconds, Jisung decided to step in and elbow Hyunjin, smiling at the boy in a way that he hoped seemed reassuring. Without averting his gaze, Jisung finally spoke up and addressed Jihoo. “Trying to scare away the newbies already, hyung? There’s no way I’m going to let our baby Jeongin drink that.”
He heard the latter complain about his choice of words but paid it no mind, eyes trained to Hyunjin who was now looking back at him as well. “Quite the contrary! I’m just trying to make it easier for them to fit in, Jisungie, you should know better than anyone,” Jihoo shot back from the kitchen.
“I don’t think any of us asked for that, hyung,” Seungmin’s voice was guarded, eyes reticently observing the five shot glasses being placed on the table by the oldest. “And yeah, Jeongin is not drinking that.”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your pants in a twist, Kim,” Jihoo replied nonchalantly, moving one of the glasses in front of Hyunjin instead. “Hyunjinnie here will drink it for him.”
“Two glasses?” Hyunjin asked, finally looking away from Jisung.
“Yeah, two glasses. Take it as a congratulatory gift for how well you did on Monday during the showcase evaluation,” Jihoo smiled sweetly at the younger and plopped down onto the floor next to Jisung, handing out one of the glasses to Seungmin. “Let's toast to attract luck and end up making our debut once and for all!”
And toast they did. The liquid burnt Jisung’s throat on its way down his stomach and the flavor was definitely not pleasant at all, but he chugged it down nonetheless. He found his eyes attracted back to Hyunjin once again, eyes looking at his Adam’s apple bob as the taller boy forced himself to finish his second shot.
After that, it didn’t take much more persuasion from Jihoo to convince them to have another shot and, before any of them realized, the two bottles were emptied. Objectively speaking, it wasn’t even that much alcohol considering that the bottles barely contained 33cl each, but the amount was enough to make Jisung feel warm and what he guessed could be labeled as ‘tipsy’.
And as stupid teenagers in stupid Hollywood movies, they ended up playing truth or dare on a whim. Jisung was having fun, laughing freely for the first time in very long, and he was definitely too distracted by Jeongin's interpretation of Gagnam Style in trot style to notice the way Jihoo was looking at him and Hyunjin. At some point, the taller boy had leaned against Jisung’s side, head resting on the rapper’s shoulder, and he hadn’t moved from that position ever since. It didn’t bother Jisung in the slightest, it actually made him feel even warmer in a pleasant way. But that contentment was short-lived.
“I dare you to kiss Jisung,” said Jihoo when it was Hyunjin’s turn to make a fool of himself.
It took Jisung a heartbeat to process Jihoo’s words before he spluttered out loud. “What the fuck, hyung? Why would you even dare him to do that?”
The older boy shrugged, the look on his face made Jisung feel uneasy. “Why not? I’m asking him to kiss you, not marry you. Besides, it’s Hyunjin’s dare so he’s the one that has to decide whether he chickens out or not.”
The boy in question had frozen in place, head still resting on Jisung’s shoulder, and the rapper was suddenly very uncomfortable with the proximity. “You couldn't have chosen a more clichéd challenge even if you tried, hyung. Pretty pathetic in my opinion,” he found himself saying defensively. Somehow, the taller boy’s silence was making it all worse; why wasn’t he complaining and refusing straight away? Hyunjin was usually very vocal when he didn’t want to do something.
“Oh, relax Jisung, it’s just a damn kiss, I’m not asking you guys to make out. Well, unless… you actually want to–” Jisung silently thanked Seungmin when the other threw a pillow at Jihoo, effectively shutting him up.
That seemed to startle Hyunjin out from whatever reverie his mind was caught up in, making the boy finally move away from Jisung’s shoulder and giving the rapper some much needed space to breathe. “And well Hyunjinnie, do you accept the challenge or are you going to chicken out like a loser? Remember that the penalty is having Jeongin call Chan to explain him that you have forced him to drink against his will.”
Jisung gulped at the older’s words. It was not true, Jeongin hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol that night, but it still was a heck of a penalty, to say the least. Bang Chan was usually a pretty chill guy, hyper-focused on training and producing, but very nice overall. They both had become very close after starting their sub-unit project with Changbin called 3RACHA, but that didn’t mean that Jisung was up to provoking his friend’s ire. He had seen Chan mad before and he didn’t want Hyunjin to experience it first-hand. It was downright terrifying.
Checking out Hyunjin’s expression, he soon realized that the boy was at a loss of words and didn’t know what to do. And, well, if Jisung was kind of bold in a good day, imagine how bold he could get after having four shots of soju.
Getting up on his knees, he twisted his body to the right in order to face Hyunjin, making eye contact with the other. “C’mon, let’s get this done with. I want to play another round of Mario Kart.”
Hyunjin seemed surprised at Jisung being willing to do it and he could see Seugmin’s and Jeongin’s shocked expressions from the corner of his eye as well. Not only was he okay with having Hyunjin kissing him, but he was the one initiating the whole ordeal.
“Umm, are you sure? Chan-hyung doesn’t seem that bad, I’m sure it will be okay,” Hyunjin said, still looking taken aback by Jisung’s willingness after his initial outburst.
Jihoo laughed at Hyunjin’s words and Seungmin and Jeongin cringed slightly; they had all been in the company longer than the boy and knew how incorrect that statement could turn out to be. “Oh, believe me, you don’t want to see hyung mad,” Jisung shrugged. And, just because he felt like he needed to specify why he was willing to be kissed, he added a, “I don’t want to get caught up in this mess, hyung will know I was here too and be mad at me as well.”
Hyunjin finally seemed to make up his mind and nodded minutely at Jisung, getting on his knees as well. The boy was slightly taller than the rapper, towering a couple of centimeters over him, but if that caused a strange tingling sensation to spread out in his stomach, Jisung did his best to ignore it.
“1 minute!” Jihoo suddenly piped up.
“You said just a kiss,” Hyunjin complained, hands clenched in fists on his lap.
“Yeah hyung, we don’t want to traumatize pure Jeongin over there,” Jisung added, ignoring, once again, the youngest’s complains at his choice of words.
“Okay, okay… You guys are no fun,” Jihoo said, putting his hands up defensively at Hyunjin’s glare. “30 seconds then, I said a kiss not a peck. Also, we need to set some time limitation in case you guys have too much fun!”
Jisung rolled his eyes at the older’s words but paid him no mind, looking back at Hyunjin. “Okay, 30 seconds then. No big deal.” He felt proud of himself when his voice came out way more stable than he felt internally.
The rapper startled slightly when Hyunjin grabbed his left shoulder all of a sudden, leaning in just a little bit. “Okay… I’m doing it,” the guy murmured, low enough that Jisung was sure he was the only one that had heard it. He didn’t know if Hyunjin was warning him beforehand or if he was trying to hype himself up but, nevertheless, Jisung found the gesture annoyingly endearing. What the fuck?
He didn't have time to worry about his strange feelings any further when Hyunjin finally bowed down and connected their lips.
Jisung would like to say that he was unaffected by it all: that he didn’t feel the tingly, warm sensation in his belly flare up the moment their lips touched; that he wasn’t surprised at the pleasant feeling of Hyunjin’s plump lips brushing against his thinner ones; that he didn’t copy Hyunjin’s movements and tilted his head to the right in order to slot his lips against the other’s more comfortably. Jisung wished he didn’t notice the sweet but slightly musky scent he had originally perceived when stepping into the house intensifying with how close they were now. And above anything else, Jisung really, really wished he could erase the feeling of disappointment rising in his gut when the 30 seconds were up.
When Hyunjin moved away, Jisung’s eyes immediately zeroed in on his lips, now red and shiny in a way that made it nearly impossible for him to avert his gaze. It wasn’t until he heard Jihoo hollering and Jeongin’s exaggerated fake-gagging in the background that Jisung finally snapped out of it, making eye contact with a very flushed and confused-looking Hyunjin. He immediately looked away, flustered himself, only to end up making eye contact with Seungmin instead. The look on the singer’s face made him feel as if the other could read all the thoughts going through Jisung’s mind and hear the fast-paced thumping of his heart loud and clear.
With a speed that gave him whiplash, the tingly and warm feeling in his belly quickly turned into a mush of knots that made him want to throw up all of his insides, pizza and soju included.
In retrospect, going through that childish dare and willingly having Hyunjin kiss him had definitely been one of the stupidest mistakes he had made when it came down to the other boy; it was probably the one that had kick-started a series of events that would ultimately end up evolving into a huge mess.
Jisung could not stop thinking about the kiss afterwards and it made things go awkward very quickly between them. He knew now that Hyunjin was not at fault for his full blown-out identity crisis back then, but 16-year-old Jisung took all of his frustrations and insecurities on him.
Hyunjin didn’t even try to approach him when the rapper halted all interactions with him, didn’t question why Jisung had suddenly stopped being nice around him and had become completely indifferent towards him instead. In the beginning, Jisung could feel questioning looks from the other trainees at the abrupt change in their relationship, Chan going as far as trying to interrogate him about the whole situation even. But, in the end, people had just accepted it and moved on. Eventually, it became a well-known fact among trainees that Han Jisung and Hwang Hyunjin simply didn’t get along.
No one knew the reason why. When asked about it, Jisung would say that the other was too full of himself and had made it into JYP because of his looks only; Hyunjin, on the other hand, would say the rapper was downright obnoxious and annoying on a good day. And those who had the knowledge to connect the dots that would explain their sudden animosity, never said anything about it: Park Jihoo didn’t pass the following showcase evaluation and enrolled into the military instead, and Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the whole ordeal afterwards.
So, just like that, Hyunjin and Jisung stopped being friends.
++
Knock, knock, knock.
“Hey, anyone in there?” Chan’s tired voice startled Jisung out of his troubled thoughts, making him hurriedly stand up and dry his tear-streaked cheeks with a hand towel. The leader’s fucked-up sleeping schedule had completely flown over his head and Jisung cursed internally at himself.
When he saw his own reflection in the mirror, red, puffy eyes looking back at him, he knew damn well that he wasn’t getting away with it this time. With a resigned sigh, he murmured a, “yeah hyung, give me a minute.” The rapper cringed when his voice came out scratchy and hoarse.
When he finally unlocked the door, Chan’s face was already a mixture of anxiousness and worry, having recognized the younger’s despair in his tone. “Oh, Jisungie, what happened?” He said with an urgency in his voice that Jisung hadn’t heard directed at him in a very long time.
Just at hearing the older’s worry, seeing those caring, tired eyes looking into his in search of answers he didn’t have, Jisung broke down again, sobbing hard against Chan’s firm chest when he hurried forward to hug him. He could feel pure worry filtering through Chan’s shaky hands stroking down his back, attempting to make him feel better. Jisung knew that he was scaring the shit out of their leader, since he had never truly broken down like this in front of any of the members besides Minho years ago, but he couldn’t find it in himself to stop the tears.
After what felt like hours in Jisung’s head, the sobs, tears and tremors coursing through his body finally came to a stop, leaving only ugly hiccups and swollen eyes as proof of his breakdown. However, Jisung still didn’t feel ready to face Chan so, the moment the older pushed him back softly to look at his face, he avoided all eye contact with him.
He heard the leader sigh. “Come with me to bed, let’s cuddle,” Chan said with a resigned voice instead. The rapper knew that Chan obviously wanted to ask what had triggered such a reaction in him, but he was eternally grateful of the leader’s deep knowledge of each members’ in-and-outs and of his capability of sensing when he wasn’t going to get anywhere with his prodding. Jisung knew that that didn’t mean he was safe from an interrogation that would definitely come sooner than later, but he was happy to escape from it even if it was just for a short while.
Chan grabbed his wrist in a gentle grip and moved silently through the dark hallway. Like Jisung, he was more than experienced in making his way through the dorms without switching on the lights and risking waking up the others. The rapper was extremely relieved when the leader guided him to his shared room with Changbin instead of his own, opening the door silently and stepping around Jisung’s and Changbin’s mess scattered on the floor.
When he finally allowed himself to sink into the other’s embrace, back against the leader’s strong chest and face hidden from any potential onlookers by facing the wall, Jisung felt the pressure in his chest finally easing up, enough for him to breathe normally again. Chan wrapped his left arm firmly around Jisung’s middle and the younger finally closed his eyes.