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He’s definitely drunk.
Shin Jaehyun… he’s trying his best these days. Normalcy and humanity are still an ill-fitting coat at times, awkward and tight in the shoulders, but he’s wearing it. Which is what lead him to this moment.
Wrap dinners, company dinners—whatever one calls them—are not new by any means to him. A successful idol would attend many, and VTIC are very successful idols.
(Cheongryeo typically refrains from drinking at such events, preferring not to offer any weakness either in social hierarchies or by losing any of his senses. He accepts the first glass for etiquette’s sake but usually puts it down. Tonight, though, he had thought that… well, he doesn’t have exact words for the impulse, just that he’s been trying. And that he had followed the impulse, and drank what was in the cup rather than setting it down.
The looks on everyone’s faces, the sudden tension in the room, the way one of the crew members had audibly gasped—the response had been almost amusing enough on its own to make the choice and his blooming headache worth it. But once he had begun to drink, a dam had broken in the other attendees, and the usually much tamer dinners held in check by his presence had become absolutely collegiate. Or so he assumes. He’s never really been to college.
It reminds him of Kongie with zoomies—not that he would tell them that, because comparing staff to a dog, even if she’s one of the finest creatures in the universe, would cause him PR crisis if the wrong anti caught wind of it.)
Jaehyun’s eyelids feel heavy, and his skin’s flushed. He pushes himself to his feet to move to a bench a bit more out of the way, feeling loose and wobbly like he’s been in an intense dance practice. But at least then there’s a benefit. Why do people like this? Does everyone feel as drunk as he does?
(In his peripheral vision, Chaeyul flits around the room, cheerfully making conversation and congratulating staff. Normally, Jaehyun would be right there with him, securing impressions and collecting information. Especially with the atmosphere so light, someone might say something particularly noteworthy.)
There is lively conversation and loud laughter, and it’s a half-step away from total unprofessional chaos. It’s very different from the norm at VTIC wrap dinners, and the only marked change was that first shot of soju. At times like these, Jaehyun cannot help but notice the impacts of his influence.
Intellectually, Cheongryeo knows that he has made himself indispensable, even powerful, within LeTi, and that was very much by design. But to witness the impact of it in things like this is rather striking.
Striking, that’s a good word for it. Neither good nor bad, just there.
Ugh. His head is spinning, and the too-bright LED lights in the KBBQ restaurant aren’t helping, a sharp blue-purple glare. Someone mercifully shades him from it—ah, when had his bandmate even gotten here?
"Hey, Jaehyun-hyung! Are you alright?" Chaeyul’s voice is cheerful, loud and gossipy, but underneath it is genuine concern. It’s rare, especially this long into a timeline. "Oh my god, he looks super tired…"
"He's definitely out of it. That's the face he makes when he's barely keeping it together. His collapse is imminent…"
Which… hm, is a bit unusual for Jung Woodan to say that right in front of him. Usually the others have enough wariness of him not to talk like that in real life (obviously, playful disrespect in front of TICAs is necessary for the sake of their perception of brotherly group dynamics and thus tolerated), but perhaps he’s not sober either.
"Five shots…" Jaehyun struggles to hear him, "—overboard?"
His bandmates begin to mutter among themselves, but, to be honest, he doesn’t think he cares to listen. The table under his arm is rough, and if he keeps his arm on it he’s probably going to get a splinter. That would be a nuisance, especially in the arm.
He shifts a little down the bench, which feels oddly greasy to the touch and he really hopes isn’t ruining his pants. He’s still mostly tuning out the conversation, which seem to have turned to other topics, until he catches something interesting.
"…Home… early… out cold… TeSTAR?"
The name makes him sit up straighter, and he wonders when he had allowed himself to slouch in company. Rare form, he thinks. But everything about tonight is rare.
"…Passing him off to our junior, wouldn't that be pretty irresponsible of us?"
Jaehyun has to roll the words over in his head to connect that they’re talking about a specific junior. A junior from TeSTAR. Hoobaenim. What did they want from him? It’s already bad enough how much he’s relied on someone who is his junior, whatever it is now wouldn’t be a tipping point.
"…It should be alright!" Chaeyul pauses before continuing. "We've all seen them together before. I made him promise to look after hyung!"
Eh? He could tell them himself that hoobaenim—it’s easier, he thinks, to have a nickname that makes it impossible to mistake which occupant of the name Park Moondae he’s addressing—would not show up for something like this. For whatever similarity they share as fellow regressors, Shin Jaehyun is just another person who was saved by hoobaenim collaterally. A side-effect, and it’s changing his entire life, because that is the sort of person that his hoobaenim is.
He doesn’t remember the last time there was someone who made him feel so insignificant. But Park Moondae is just a person like that.
But let them call him, he doesn’t see the harm. Unfortunately, his mind slips elsewhere, somewhere between asleep and awake, and he doesn’t have to see the part where Park Moondae picks up the phone and tells them no. If they say anything else to or about him, he decides not to bother noticing.
✧ ✧ ✧
"And you think I'll be able to get him home like this? Hey, Shin Cheongryeo-sunbaenim, you in there? Come on, let's go home." There’s a tap on his shoulder, neither sharp nor gentle. Jaehyun turns immediately to face whoever had the sheer audacity. And it should have been obvious, right? Park Moondae, clearly wrongfooted by the sight of him drunk, meets his eyes.
"Uh…"
"Ah, hoobaenim,” he greets. Then pauses, what could he even say, in this situation? Does he apologize for the trouble?
He hadn’t thought that Park Moondae would come for something like this, but in hindsight Park Moondae is generally someone who would rather do something like this than run the risk of a bad manners scandal later. Still, unreasonably, he’s touched.
A smile curls his lips without his consent, and he lets his body follow the magnetic pull of Park Moondae just this once. He smells good, like laundry softener and skin cream. Against his weight, Park Moondae startles, but he does not move to drop him. Cheongryeo knows that it’s the witnesses, but as the junior idol manhandles him upright and onto his shoulder he lets himself wonder if this is how it would be if he’d come for him for any other reason than mitigating a possible storm.
His bandmates are happy to converse with the other idol, unaware of how little he probably wants to be here, and Jaehyun just tries to cooperate as they make their way to the car. Even if hoobaenim doesn’t want to be here, though, Jaehyun knows that he’s safe in his hands. They’ve been through enough together that he can trust him not to kill him tonight.
✧ ✧ ✧
He sits quietly in the car when a hand reaches over and his eyes turn to meet hoobaenim’s again. He’s half leaned over him, in a way that would be misleading to any paparazzo. Discomfort flashes across Park Moondae’s face, and Shin Jaehyun doesn’t know what to do in a scenario like this. He keeps his gaze, frozen in this second of time. There are many things that he could say, both greedy and foolish and ultimately destructive.
After all, if he ever were to say that he loved him, he’d say it with an apology. Jaehyun is under no illusions that hoobaenim would appreciate it. And Cheongryeo doesn’t have the right to that.
Still, he looks at Jaehyun and Jaehyun looks back at him. They’re so close, and it takes all of his industry-sharpened, alcohol-dulled impulse control not to close that gap. A smile, wry and unbidden forms on his face. It’s almost funny, how easily misunderstood this moment is with a person who doesn’t really want much to do with him at all. And of all the people who are like that, he still…
He still wants. What, exactly, he doesn’t even know anymore.
His eyes slide away from Park Moondae’s for a moment, thoughts still slow and thick. But he turns back and Park Moondae’s eyes are still locked on his face so he meets their gaze.
"Going home, huh? I haven't said this before, but I've—" he pauses, the words failing for a minute, before saying something that he’s certain a fellow regressor would understand. "…Never met anyone like you, hoobaenim."
He smiles, but it’s half a grimace, awkward and raw. Centuries alone, before this man changed him. He has lived so many lifetimes focused only on himself and his own goals, and by the end of it the people around him were only as important to him as they were useful. And then someone changes that… would they not then become the most important to him by default? A fait accompli consequence?
This is someone who has made him human again, has saved him time and again despite everything wrong that’s happened between them, and the person that has taken up a permanent residence in his mind. Who but him?
The only response is a sharp inhale of air around gritted teeth. Hoobaenim finally moves, snatching at the seatbelt that he really could have buckled himself and clicking it shut with angry finality.
Jaehyun shouldn’t have said anything. His cheeks burn but hoobaenim isn’t looking at him anymore, eyes fixed on the road, restrained rage in his posture. Jaehyun closes his eyes and hides, pretending to doze off until he does for real.
✧ ✧ ✧
He doesn’t really remember anything that leads to him waking up, but he’s in his apartment again, which he had trusted he would be. His head aches and his chest aches worse. He steps out, squinting in the darkness, as he heads towards his kitchen. And then he stops.
Ah. Kongie is lying so peacefully on the blanket. Something in his chest, bruised, makes him abandon his quest for water and bury his face in dog fur.
His dog needs a bath, he thinks, but she’s warm against him and her little chest is rising and falling as her nose stutters a snore. He curls in closer, seeking warmth. Kongie lets him, opening bleary eyes and halfheartedly licking his forehead before dozing off again, tucked against him like puzzle piece or a stuffed animal. It helps.
Affection swells in him, even as his eyes slip shut, heavy and warm.
✧ ✧ ✧
There are many ways to wake up next to someone. Jaehyun can’t say that he likes the thought of waking up to them standing over his prone body. But Park Moondae is standing by his feet, so he has to open his eyes properly.
"How's that hangover?"
Cheongryeo raises his free hand—the one that isn't stuck underneath Kongie—to cover his eyes from the sunlight, yikes. Rubbing at them blearily, he sighs.
"Not great. I haven't been hungover for a very long time." He takes stock of his body, ugh, sore. "Ugh, it seems I'd forgotten what it feels like."
Hoobaenim shakes his head, before moving to squat down behind Kongie. His eyes are on the dog as he doesn’t even look at him.
“Haah, I don't want to ask, but… why are you on the floor?"
"Kongie was here," he says. Which should be obvious. What? Was he meant to wake the dog up and make her walk to his bed to cuddle with her?
"Okay, okay. I won't question that, there's no use, I've seen weirder behaviour. This isn't surprising." Moondae facepalms as Cheongryeo sits up fully. He pets Kongie’s soft belly-fur as his dog tilts her stomach for more attention. Cute. "Do you remember what happened last night?"
What? His half-unsaid confession? How furious hoobaenim had been at his overstepping of boundaries? Park Moondae is unfailingly polite, at these times, offering him a way out. Given his tone of voice, he wants Jaehyun to take it.
"Vaguely? I don't think I'll be doing that again." He exhales, rubbing his temples, the headache only partially fake. Ugh. But hoobaenim is quick to reassure him.
"Well, there wasn't any harm done."
"So it seems." Is that so? Perhaps hoobaenim himself was so uncomfortable that he wanted to forget it. That’s the best outcome anyway. He looks over at Park Moondae’s eyes, and the gratitude on his face is partially for that, even when it mostly is for the part that he says out loud.
"Chaeyul called you, didn't he? Thank you very much for looking after me, hoobaenim."
"Yeah, it's no big deal, really. I don't have any schedules today, so I figured it would be alright." And that’s just like him, Shin Jaehyun thinks. "You were only slightly troublesome for the most part. Just how used are you to moving around half-asleep? But you had to come out here… what about the effort I put into getting you into bed? Now that was the worst, I had to clean your face for you and even get you changed…"
Hoobaenim trails off, looking at him. And it dawns on him that he’s staring. And something about it all makes him burst into laughter, some of it genuinely happy and some of it deflective. He knows he will never get much, so he’ll enjoy the scraps of tenderness he can salvage from hoobaenim’s irritation. It’s silly to be so pleased, halfway to giddy, over these things, and he laughs at himself just as much as he laughs with the giddiness. He pushes himself up to stand and talks as he stretches a stiff shoulder.
"Don't worry, thanks to Moondae-ssi's efforts, I still managed to get about four hours of sleep in a comfortable bed," he offers, his cheer and teasing pure plastic. Hoobaenim says nothing, eyes focused on Kongie, so Jaehyun just uncomfortably stands fully upright, so that he is the one standing now. It’s less vulnerability that way, considering how much of it he’s handed over last night. He’s found the limit, and he won’t overstep it again.
"Your back, will that be alright?” Ah? “Won't that be sore later, since you were on the floor?"
He almost sighs, but restrains himself. Hoobaenim is just generous like that, and that’s what makes people fall into his orbit. For all that he’s a star, as far as hoobaenim is concerned, he’s just a satellite. An unwanted one at that. And it hurts, but maybe it’s a karma he’s yet to balance, for his selfishness in his own regressions. But it’s funny in a pathetic sort of way.
He should respond before it gets awkward, so he smiles and offers a fellow schemer something for his trouble. If nothing else, for pretending last night didn’t happen.
"It's okay, our promotions just ended anyway. We won't be having another comeback until next January.”
"You're just telling me that?" Hoobaenim is frowning at him like he doesn’t understand why he’s doing it. But there’s satisfaction in being an enigma to such a person, sorehearted as he is. After saying too much, there’s at least something to cover himself with.
"Sure.”
"Huh? Okay, I really don't understand you, but it's alright. Whatever." Hoobaenim begins to turn away, trudging back into the living room, and Shin Jaehyun watches him with bittersweet humor. The other idol calls back. "Let's just go. Kongie needs a walk."
Shin Jaehyun turns away to get dressed, a huff of a chuckle slipping out. That’s just like him, isn’t it?
He’s not sure if he’s talking about hoobaenim or himself.