꽉 잡아줘, 날 안아줘
Can you trust me?

In his short life, yes, he considers it short, Jihoon has gone through a few pretty ty situations. What he learnt about himself is that he is not the type to let the problems pass by themselves, a quality he is pretty proud of. So when Seungcheol leaves him in the doorway, he gulps down his sobs and decides that he has to do something. Until now Seungcheol was always the one that found him after things had gone wrong, but Jihoon knows that this time is different. He really ed up and honestly, Seungcheol has no reason to come back to him. He was never the best boyfriend, unable of speaking about his feeling and always awkward. Heck, he still has no idea what the other saw in him in the first place. But he does know that he became kind of addicted to the other’s presence. So if he doesn’t want to lose him boyfriend, he has to ignore his broken heart and do something. And he has the perfect idea.

That’s why Chan finds him a few hours later at his usual table in the library, scribbling furiously on his notebook, headphones pressed almost painfully on his ears. Chuckling at his hyung’s concentrated expression, he decides to take a seat for a while. Surprisingly, Woozi doesn’t notice him for a few good minutes, even if the younger isn’t really subtle with his staring. Eventually, the short guy lifts his eyes from his notebook, almost jumping in his seat when he makes eye-contact with a grinning Chan. Sighing, he lets the headphones slide on his neck.

“Since when are you here?” he asks grumpily, eyes already back to the paper.

“Ten minutes, I think.” The younger smiles. “You seem pretty caught up. A new song?”

“Not really…” Woozi answers while cutting a line. “I composed the music a while ago, but I never had any idea for the lyrics.” Frowning, he re-reads the lyrics. For some reasons, it is harder than usual to match everything nicely.

“Sudden inspiration?” Chan questions again, smiling at his frustrated hyung. This seems to finally catch the other’s attention, as he raises his eyes for a short moment.

“I guess you can call it like that.”

“Can I listen to it?”

Normally, Jihoon would cut in with a sharp no, but he is pretty nervous about this song. Maybe a second opinion will help him.

“Fine. But you can’t see the lyrics.” He agrees, handing the younger his headphones and restarting the song. Chan grins again as he closes his eyes to properly concentrate on the music. Jihoon passes a short glance, going back to the lyrics. The song is almost over, but he still thinks the lyrics are somehow lacking, not sincere enough. And there comes the other problem: is he really going to share his deepest feeling with the whole world? Sighing again, he lets his head fall on the table. Will this really be enough?

“I like it, hyung!” Chan's enthusiast voice stops his dark thoughts once again. He turns his face slightly so he can see the other.

“Really?” he asks tiredly.

“Yeah! I liked it the last time too, but it sounds better with only the guitar.” The other answers.

“The last time?” Jihoon wonders absent-mindly.

“Yeah. You showed it to me a few days after we met. We were right here, in the library, remember?”

Of course he remembers. Back then, with all the mean whispers and hard stares, he saw the younger smile so brightly just because of his music. In spite of his situation, Jihoon finds himself smiling.

“The time has really passed quickly.”

“Yeah. Hyung, you know, you were my first friend in this school.” Chan replies softly. “But thanks to you I also met Seungkwan and Seungcheol hyung and my life here became a lot easier.”

Why do people smile when they talk about sad things? It was always a mystery for Jihoon. But maybe they smile because they succeeded in getting over them. Maybe one day he’ll smile too when he will think about his past. He really hopes so.

“Where’s Seungcheol hyung, by the way?” Chan asks. “He usually never loses the chance to stare at you when you compose.” The younger sees how the other’s smile wears off, shoulders tensing up right away.

“Did something happen?” he asks frowning at his hyung’s reactions. Jihoon just nods grabbing his pen again.

“Are you guys okay?” Chan insists. The older doesn’t raise his eyes, but his pen stops in the midair.

“We are not.” He answers, grabbing his headphones again and covering one ear to hear the instrumental again. “But I’m working on it.”

And in spite of his worry Chan smiles again and lets Woozi go back to work. It’s really nice to see Woozi actually making an effort to get closer to a human being. Unfortunately, said work is stopped again not even two minutes later when the headmaster’s voice resonates around the library, and probably through the whole school.

“Lee Woozi, please come to the headmaster’s office immediately!”

Chan gives him a shocked glance. Even since he has started his dance course here he never heard the headmaster make a public announcement. The megaphones were usually used by the radio club. Jihoon however, seems unimpressed, going back to his song even when all the eyes in the library focus on him.

“Lee Woozi, now!” the headmaster voice booms 30 seconds later, like he was expecting to be ignored. Jihoon lets out a loud ‘’ and proceeds to gather his things.

“I’ll see you later.” He says to a confused Chan and exists the library. He is quite annoyed for being interrupted once again, but something really serious must have happened for the headmaster to make such a call. Maybe he talked with his son?

 He is almost there when Jisoo suddenly appears from around a corner, almost knocking him down.

“Jihoon!” he exclaims, breathe ragged and face red. Jihoon frowns. What is with everyone today?

“Are you okay, hyung?” he asks, continuing his walk towards the director’s office. Joshua follows him, struggling to take in some air.

“Have you watched the news?” it’s the first thing he asks. Jihoon stops and turns around, confusion evident on his face.

“The news? You know I don’t watch tv.” He answers. It seems to bring some relief to the other. Joshua’s face finally relaxing a little.

“Good, good.” He whispers, confusing the younger even more.

“What’s on the news hyung?” he asks, but Jisoo ignores him, dragging him forward.

“Let’s go. The headmaster waits for you.”

Jihoon struggles to break free his arm. “What’s happening?” he questions again, but with the same result.

“We’ll talk when we get there. I bet the headmaster called you with the same purpose.”

They enter without knocking, a habit Woozi developed a long time ago. The office is filled with the noise made by the huge plasma on one of the walls. When he notices them, Mr Kim brings the volume to mute, leaving his chair to quickly approach Jihoon, asking the same question as Jisoo:

“Have you seen the news?” It actually starts to irritate Jihoon.

“No, he didn’t.” Joshua answers for him.

“Mr. Hong. What are you doing here?” the headmaster brings his attention to the older male.

“I’m his friend.”

The answer ticks at Jihoon’s nerves, but he lets it slide because he is more curious about other things.

“What the hell is happening?” His voice is ruder than he intended and he waits for the usual nag from the old man in front of him. But it never comes. Mr. Kim exchanges a glance with Joshua before turning back to the television and turning the volume up. Jihoon frowns, but since his answers must be there, he decides to get closer to the device.

The first thing he registers is the ambulance sirens, combined with the police’s and his heart stops for a moment, unpleasant memories swinging in his brain. The first persons he thinks of is Seungcheol, but there’s no way something happened to him. He is still in his dorm room, isn’t he? Besides, the body that is now carried inside of the ambulance is  a woman’s.

It’s actually funny that the first thing he recognizes is not her face, but the white that fills along her dark hair. She used to complain almost daily that he’s the one making her hair go gray. By now the voice of the report finally makes some sense.

“Miss Lee, the actual president of the Lee Corporation, will be taken to Seoul National Hospital. The paramedics said that she is stable for now, but she has at least four grave injuries, including her bruised abdomen. They are now more afraid of the internal damage.”

Jihoon ears start to buzz and he almost chuckles when the ‘hit and run’ gets to his brain. It’s like he’s six all over again, secretly watching the news about his father when everyone tried to keep him away from them. A hand presses on his shoulder and he turns around to a worried Jisoo.

“I’ll take you to the hospital.” The older says. Jihoon frowns.

“Why?” he asks. His voice seems distant even to him, so little, but still confused. Joshua’s eyes widen with surprise.

“Jihoon, that’s your mother. We need to go there.” He tries to explain, like Jihoon is some kind of child. But he is not, he is not six anymore. And he doesn’t care.

“My name is not Jihoon.” He spits back, grabbing his bag and storming out of the room. He hears the headmaster calling for him, but he just walks faster, trying to get rid of the sounds of the sirens. They make him dizzy. 

He doesn’t know how he gets to his room. He just climbs on his bed and open his phone to the news channel. They are still talking about the accident, now in front of the hospital. He almost laughs at the news’ title, letting the reporter’s voice fill his room.

“The question is who will now take the lead of the Lee Corporation. Even if the surgery will be successful, Mrs Lee might not be able to work for a long time. The speculations are that her second husband, Kang Minho, will be named as the CEO, but people are also talking about the actual heir of the Lee’s.”

“.” Jihoon swears loudly, tempted to throw away the phone.

“The last public apparition of Lee Jihoon was more than five years ago. The family stated that he is studying abroad. Will he finally return home now? In the meanwhile, the police is still searching for the car that hit Mrs Lee.”

The news then moves to something related to a celebrity scandal and Jihoon wants to laugh. In the end nobody cares about the injured person. Somebody might die tonight, but they worry more about who’s going to replace her, or about who slept with who. He turns off his phone and throws it somewhere on his bed, knees coming up to support his forehead. He doesn’t care, he keeps repeating to himself. But for some reason his tears keep on falling even since he saw her gray hair. He shouldn’t care.

There are loud knocks on his door, but Jihoon doesn’t bother to move. It’s probably Jisoo, wanting to drag him to the hospital. Unfortunately, he was in such a hurry when he came in that he didn’t lock the door. He only realizes it when somebody presses on the knob. But it’s not Joshua. Heck, he expected even the headmaster more that the concerned Seungcheol that now stands in his doorway.

“What are you d-doing here?” he croaks. Damn, his voice sounds terrible when he’s crying. Why is he even crying? He wonders, roughly rubbing his tears away.

“Joshua called me.” Seungcheol answers softly, closing the door after him and approaching the bed with big steps. Jihoon didn’t even know that they have each other’s numbers. For some reason, he is angry.

“Y-You shouldn’t be here.” He mumbles under his breath as the other sits next to him, gently tugging at the smaller’s hands to reveal his crying face. “You should be angry with me.” He continues as Seungcheol starts wiping his tears gently. “You should be angry and I should make it up to you.” Jihoon starts crying some more. Seungcheol chuckles lowly and gathers his small body in a hug.

“That’s not how we work.” He murmurs in Jihoon’s hair. The shorter breathes out loudly, burying his face in Seungcheol’s shirt. It should make him feel better, but he actually starts crying harder. Why is Seungcheol so good to him? He thinks as the other starts rubbing his back. It creates circles of warmth that eventually spread in Jihoon’s whole body, helping him to finally breathe right.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Seungcheol demands when he calms a little. The image of the grayed hair fills Jihoon’s mind once again, just as new tears well up in his eyes.

“Somebody I know had a car accident.” He answers, trying to calm his sobs.

“Is she okay?” The other asks. Jihoon is too wrecked to notice his slip and Seungcheol combs his hair to distract him some more.

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” The smaller whispers. “I shouldn’t care.” Seungcheol sighs. It’s obvious how much Jihoon cares. Their thoughts are interrupted by Jihoon’s ringing phone and they both turn towards it. Jihoon tenses when he sees the caller, but he reaches his hand for it anyway. He should have expected it. He coughs twice to adjust his voice and Seungcheol tries to break the hug when he sees him taking the call. Jihoon doesn’t look at him, but he moves closer, letting his head rest on Seungcheol’s shoulder, his whole body curled up in the other’s lap.

“Hello.” He answers, grateful that his voice doesn’t betray his state.

“Jihoon, it’s grandma.” The voice on the other side doesn’t sound as good. His grandmother is also crying, he can tell. He makes a sound of acknowledgement, sinking deeper into his boyfriend’s arms, letting Seungcheol’s fingers in his hair distract him.

“Have you… have you watched the news?” Jihoon decides that he hates the sentence.

“Yeah.” He answers trying to remain calm. His grandma leaves out a long sigh, probably to hide a sob.

“Jihoonie, can… can you do something for me? Please?” she quietly asks. Jihoon closes his eyes. He knew it.

“I know she wasn’t the best mother to you. She was a bad daughter too…” by now the woman gave up hiding her cries, sobs mixing along her tear muffled voice. “But she is still my daughter. I can’t... Jihoonie, I can’t just watch her die.”

A loud sob escapes Jihoon’s lips and he quickly covers them with his free hand. Under him, Seungcheol becomes rigid.

“She needs a blood transplant.” His grandmother keeps explaining. Jihoon wants to hang up and throw away his phone. But it’s his grandma, the person who helped him the most, the only constant presence in his life. He already knows he would do anything she’ll ask him for. “The surgery went well, but s-she lost a lot of blood and you k-know how hard is to find her type.”

Of course he knows. Jihoon was lucky enough to inherit his mother’s  type. He has always been told to avoid losing blood at any costs since there are barely any donators out there.

“I’ll be there.” He whispers, the only way he trusts his voice not to crack, and ends the call.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asks quietly, tipping Jihoon’s chin up with his fingers. Jihoon is not, but his only answer is a deep sigh. Seungcheol’s eyes study his face with worry before leaning down to give him a short peck. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but it lets Jihoon know that he is not alone and right now that’s all he needs.

“Can you take me to the hospital?”

Seungcheol gives him a small smile. “Of course.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Seungcheol asks for the third time in front of the hospital. Jihoon tries to give him a genuine smile as he refuses once again. Seungcheol frowns, but moves to engulf the boy in a hug.

“Take care. Call me when you finish.” He whispers in the pink hair.

“They are only going to take some blood.” Jihoon chuckles at the other’s concern. “But, thank you.” Seungcheol’s shirt muffles his voice, but he knows the taller heard him by the soft kiss near his ear. Jihoon really means it. He doesn’t deserve someone as Seungcheol. Right now, the other should be angry, he shouldn’t even want to see Jihoon, but here he is, worrying about Jihoon and comforting him.

“I’ll explain everything when this is over.” He promises as he breaks the hug. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise, but a small smile makes its way on his face. It makes Jihoon want to be selfish, leave all this mess behind and go home with Seungcheol. Right now, the adoration is Seungcheol's eyes seems the only thing he needs.

“I’ll like that.” Seungcheol laughs softly, hand caressing the side of Jihoon’s face. “I’ll wait then.” He places another kiss on Jihoon’s forehead before letting him go. “Go in now. Call me after, okay?”

Jihoon nods, the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

The nurse at the front-desk asks him for his name and ID, indicating him to go to the fourth floor for blood donation. The doctor that greets him there looks on the edge of passing out.

“Please tell me you have O type.” She asks breathlessly, not even bothering to wonder who he is. Jihoon nods silently. “I’m here to donate.” It seems like the best news she heard in a while, a long puff of air leaving her trembling lips, hand gripping the knob of a near door tightly, almost smashing it as she opens it.

“Good. Very good. Let’s go inside, there are a few questions I have to ask before.”

It’s quite an easy procedure, only testing his blood, taking his temperature and pulse, before inserting a needle in his arm and asking him to relax for a few minutes.

“We really need this.” The doctor points to the recipient that is slowly filled with Jihoon’s blood.

“I know.” He answers weakly. It may be the anxiety of being in a hospital, or the fact that he hasn’t eaten anything today, but he feels his energy drain out of his body just like his blood. The doctor seems to notice this, handing him a glass of water.

“How did you know?” she asks, checking his pulse again.

“I’m… a relative of one of the patients here.” The boy answers vaguely. If he plays his cards well, he can get out of the hospital without meeting anyone… familiar.

“Normally, we should run some more tests on you before the donation.” The doctors explain with a sigh. “But we are in such a hurry, we don’t have time for that. Remember to drink lots of water after this and, judging by your condition, some food and sleep won’t hurt either.”

Jihoon nods mechanically, thinking that the doctor should follow her own advice.

“Done.” She says, getting the needle out without notice and pressing a piece of cotton instead. Jihoon takes the job to rub at the now sore spot with it.

“I shall take this to room 517. Hopefully it will be enough.” The doctor talks, more to herself than to Jihoon. “You can visit Miss Lee now that she is stable.”

“What?” Jihoon’s brain is still a little slow at processing things.

“Your relative must be Lee Jihye. You can go see her now, even if she is still unconscious. You must be pretty close if you came to donate blood even when you are not in the best shape.” She speaks while bussing herself around the room. If he wouldn’t be so tired, Jihoon would snap at her for being nosy. But he is, so he lets it pass while trying to stand straight without his legs giving up under him.

“Can I go now?” he tries to sound polite, but at this point he wonders if it really matters. The woman, even more tired than him, doesn’t seem to care anyway.

“Yeah.” She stops for a moment to stare at him. “I suggest you call somebody to drive you home.”

With another nod the boy makes his way to the door, still rubbing his arm. I actually started to ache, a dull pain that seems to spread up his arm and to his whole body. He considers calling Seungcheol to come back after him, but dismisses the idea. Seungcheol has already done enough for him today. Checking his pockets for his wallet he decides to take a taxi to the dorm.

“Jihoon?” the voice is almost a whisper, but hospitals were always too quiet to miss it. The boy raises his head involuntary. There’s a man a few meters ahead of him. Jihoon wishes he wouldn’t recognize him. He wishes the beard, or the fact that the man has lost a lot of weight would stop him from remembering. He knows that he has no chance though.

“It is you.” The man says as a confirmation to himself. Jihoon gulps down his anxiety and proceeds to walk past him.

“Lee Jihoon!” the man calls again, but Jihoon doesn’t spare him a glance. ‘Ignore it and it’ll go away’ they say. He really wishes it could be that easy. The man grips his arm, successfully stopping him in place. The awful day and the blood donation have weakened Jihoon so much that when he tries to free his arm he barely feels the effort.

“It really is you, Jihoon.” The man, his step father says again.

“My name is not Jihoon, Sir.” The boy spits back. “Now please let go of my arm.” His request is of course, ignored.

“You think I wouldn’t recognize you?” the man asks, hand tightening around Jihoon’s arm. For a split of second the strong grip reminds him of the past, but he blinks it away. “Are you here to see your mother?”

Jihoon tenses. “No. As I said, I don’t know you. Let go before I announce the authorities.” His voice is steel cold, just like the glare he fixes the man with. It seems to surprise his father, eyes filling with uncertainty. It gives Jihoon the time to tug his arm out of the grip. The man looks tired, the same as the doctor who took Jihoon’s blood, dark bags almost reaching his dropping cheekbones, age showing mercifully in wrinkles and white hair. He looks more like a shadow of the man Jihoon remembers, his confidence and power gone within the years.

“Look, I know I don’t have the right to ask anything from you, but can we at least talk?” even his voice seemed to have aged.

“You are right, you don’t have the right.” Jihoon replies sharply, trying to get away from him. His father follows him, though, long legs easily catching up with Jihoon’s faltering steps.

“Can you at least go see your mother?” he asks. Jihoon ignores him, walking faster towards the elevator.   

“She’s your mother, Jihoon. And the doctors say she is in danger. You may not have this chance again.”

“She’ll survive. They have the blood now.” The elevator is at the 12^th floor, and no matter how hard Jihoon presses on the down button, he still has to wait more than he wants.

“How do you know?” his father asks beside him, calmer now that Jihoon can’t run anymore. The boy contemplates taking the stairs, but he is way too exhausted for that.

“I donate it.” He answers truthfully. It silences the man, for a few seconds.

“Thank you.” It’s small, almost as the first time he called for Jihoon, but it still echoes around the empty walls.

“I did it for grandma.” Jihoon's eyes watch the number change into a 6 almost hypnotically.

“Still, thank you.”

The doors finally open and Jihoon almost stumbles inside. He reaches to close the door before the man could follow him, but he notices that he doesn’t even intend to. His father remains in the same spot, eyes trained on his shoes. He looks pathetic in Jihoon’s eyes. An old man who lost even his dignity.

“Please come visit her sometime. She’s been looking for you for years.”

Jihoon closes the door before he can hear anything else and presses for the ground floor.

Seungcheol is tired. Sitting on a bench next to the hospital’s doors with a lukewarm coffee between his hands and another cup next to him, he can't stop his thoughts any longer. This day seems to never end and he is so damn tired of it. Sighing, he gulps another mouthful of coffee as he waits for his boyfriend to get out of the hospital. He could have gone home, like Jihoon told him to, but for some reason he decided to stay. He shouldn’t even be here, he chuckles to himself. Jihoon was right, he should be angry. But why isn’t he? Is he too tired to manifest such a powerful emotion? He should have stayed away, this will only cause him more pain. Is he too tired for pain too? Or does his pain not matter when he knows someone is hurting more?

Because he knows Jihoon has been in pain for a long time. Whatever he is hiding it hurts him constantly. After the incident with Mingyu this morning, Seungcheol knows that it doesn’t hurt Jihoon only, that maybe his boyfriend has hurt others too, but he can’t force himself to be truly angry. When he saw the news about the accident, he knew the smaller will crack. And knowing Jihoon, he won’t let anyone near him when that happens. Anyone, but Seungcheol.

So he swallows his anguish along with the coffee and keeps on waiting. Somehow, that’s what he always ends up doing, waiting for Jihoon. He chuckles. At least this time he has hope. The smaller promised him an explanation. That’s what he wanted all along, but why is he anxious about it? The fact that he won’t like these answers is certain, if not, why would Jihoon hide it from him? But how much harm can cause? Seungcheol feels like before a huge exam filled with trap questions. All the possibilities are wrong, but he still has to choose one.

His thoughts are interrupted by the doors sliding open, Jihoon shaky figure getting out of the building. He sees him struggling with his phone and hears his whispered swears when his trembling hands fail to unlock it. Sighing again, Seungcheol takes the other coffee cup and walks to the smaller, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Jihoon notices him when he is two meters away and cancels the call.

“I thought you went home.” He says. Seungcheol frowns at his tired voice. He looks even worse than when he went in, eyes puffy and barely open.

“Coffee?” he asks instead. The smaller’s eyes open a little in surprise at his favourite drink. He looks up at Seungcheol, lips parted slightly and a new spark in his orbs. And then he closes the little distance before them and wraps his arms around Seungcheol’s waist, face buried in his chest. Seungcheol is left with his arms widely opened, each hand holding a paper cup, and shock slowly transfiguring his face. He doesn’t remember when Jihoon initiated skin-ship in public, let alone a hug. He should be happy, but feeling the other trembling against him tugs the corner of his lips downer.

“Let's go home.” He whispers in Jihoon’s hair, placing a kiss on top of it. The smaller gives him a small nod, before breaking the hug and reaching for his coffee. Seungcheol uses his now free hand to take the smaller’s. He rubs his thumb along his Jihoon’s beautiful fingers before raising it to press his lips on it.

“I’ll be alright. I’m here.” He whispers, before dragging the boy to the first taxi he sees.

When they reach Jihoon’s door, Seungcheol offers to stay the night, but the shorter refuses, claiming that he needs some time alone to think. Seungcheol just gives him a smile and another kiss on the forehead.

“Let’s go for coffee tomorrow morning.” Jihoon suggests, eyes trained on his shoes. Seungcheol knows what he really means. They are going to talk tomorrow.

“I’ll come pick you up.” He replies quietly, fingers tapping the other’s chin up for another kiss this time on the lips.

“Good night.” Seungcheol whispers closes to his mouth and Jihoon smiles, a genuine one.

“Night.”

When he gets into his room, he ignores the bed that waits for him and grabs his guitar and notebook. The lyrics he couldn’t work out this afternoon are now clearly graved into his mind. At three in the morning he fights with the description of the song, the first time he actually writes something in that box, before he presses upload. He passes out with a smile stretching his lips even if he knows he has barely three more hours until Seungcheol will knock on his door.

A/N

Ooook.. another chapter.. There are only a few left.(I don't know how many tho...)

How is everything so far? Please comment ;)

Love you guys!!! See you next time~