requested by anon

You bounce on your toes as you stand in front of the door of B.A.P's dorm, pulling the hood of your jacket a little farther down on your forehead as you wait for someone to open the door. They changed the passcode for their door every other week, and Jongup had forgotten to tell you the new one, so you were stuck standing outside until someone came.

Just as you raise your hand to knock on the door again, it opens, revealing a sheepish, smiling, shirtless Jongup, hair damp and a towel around his neck.

"Sorry about that," he says, standing to the side so you could walk in and take your shoes off, "I was in the middle of showering and Youngjae-hyung," he says, shooting a playful glare at said man, "forgot that he was supposed to open the door."

"In my defense," Youngjae calls, "how was I supposed to know she wasn't a psycho fan?"

Jongup throws his towel at Youngjae, who ducks, letting the towel hit the wall and fall onto the couch. "We have a camera-viewer-thingie, stupid."

"Those have really bad image quality!" he sputters feebly, and you laugh.

"It's alright, Youngjae," you say, waving him off. "I'm here now."

"You are," he echoes, and the two of you glance at each other, meeting eyes.

There's something about Youngjae's eyes that's a little too mesmerizing for your own good, you decide, somehow unable to break away. In the light, they look almost grey, reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights in an almost charming way.

Jongup clears his throat. "Um, so. Um. Sorry to break up your little telepathy party, but I'm going on a date. With my girlfriend. So. Bye Youngjae-hyung."

“Bye, Youngjae,” you call, as Jongup tugs you by the wrist into the members’ bedroom. You’re startled by the sudden pull, but you don’t fight it, stumbling slightly as you pass through the doorway. Jongup reaches behind you and shuts the door firmly, then pulls away to rifle through his closet.

You lower yourself down on one of the bunks (Yongguk’s, if the number of Tigger plushies lying about are any indication), crossing your ankles as you wait for Jongup to get dressed, not-so-subtly admiring the way his back muscles flex as he pulls on an undershirt.

Almost as if he can feel your eyes on him, he turns his head back and chuckles, but there’s something about it that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Like the view?”

“Of course.”

He shrugs, turning back around to tug on a sweater and jeans. He walks over to his bunk and takes his favorite pair of sunglasses and a Bulls snapback from a small table next to it and puts them on.

“Ready?” you ask, standing up as he approaches you.

He hums in acknowledgement, reaching for your hand.

The two of you exit the room, and you find yourself confused at Jongup’s brisk pace, too fast to even shoot a goodbye to Youngjae, who’s still sitting on the sofa. His grip on your hand seems to tighten ever-so-slightly as you pass through the living room, but you can’t be sure.

“So, where do you want to go?” he asks as he laces up a pair of Jordans. “Movie? Coffee? The park? The mall?”

“Are there even any good movies out lately?” you muse, slipping your own shoes on.

Jongup shrugs. “I haven’t had much time to look lately.”

You nod, slowly. He’s always so busy, you forget that he doesn’t have time to keep up on normal day-to-day things half the time.

“We could just go get some snacks and sit at the park for a while?” you suggest. “I haven’t been out much lately.”

“Sure.” Jongup looks relieved—at least in the park, you can sit by yourselves, away from others. “One sec—Junhong, can you get me a big towel? Or sheet thing?”

“’Kay!” you hear the muffled reply, and a minute later a giant slides towards you, towel in hand.

“Thanks, Junhong-ah,” Jongup says, patting the maknae on the shoulder.

“No prob, hyung,” Junhong replies, “but why didn’t you ask Youngjae-hyung? He’s sort of right there.”

Jongup grins. “You need to exercise.”

“I do not!” Junhong protests hotly, to which Jongup just laughs.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

Towel tucked under Jongup’s arm, you walk hand-in-hand to the corner store, grabbing a grocery basket and filling it up with kimbap and snacks, turning a blind eye to the bags of chips that Jongup’s trying to stick in it. You figure that with all the touring and dancing and who-knows-what he’s been doing, he can spare a few calories.

When the basket is full to the point of almost overflowing, though, you draw the line.

“But these are Frozen-themed gummies!” Jongup begs. “I can bite Hans’ head off!”

“You are not a Titan, Jonguppie,” you laugh, pretending not to notice when he balances the bag precariously on top. “Biting off people’s heads is not okay.”

Jongup shrugs, pulling out his wallet to pay when the cashier rings up the total.

You insist on carrying at least two of the bags, despite Jongup’s proclamations that he could, indeed, juggle four bags and a towel (“if I put the towel on my head, it works great!” “Jongup, no!”) and walk back to the dorms. Since B.A.P was starting to get more popular, neither you nor Jongup particularly wanted to risk taking public transit, especially in the middle of the day.

Himchan, somehow, had been clued in on the plans, and is already waiting in the driver’s seat of their van.

“Hurry up,” he fake-whines, in typical Himchan fashion, “I haven’t got all day to wait for you kids.”

“Thanks, hyung, you’re the best,” Jongup says, slipping Himchan a pack of cookies as he sits down in the back of the car next to you.

Himchan reaches back with one hand, patting Jongup on the head before pulling the car out of its parking space. “Aw, Jonguppie, you know you’re hyung’s favorite, right? I’d do almost anything for you.”

“I thought Yongguk-hyung was your favorite,” Jongup teases, “but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Yongguk is different. He’s not a brat like you.”

Jongup sticks out his tongue, which Himchan catches in the inner rearview mirror.

“Yah, you want me to drop you off in the middle of the road? Don’t think I won’t,” Himchan threatens, but there’s no bite behind his words. “You just want to go to the park, right?”

Jongup nods, already ripping into his Frozen gummies. “Ooh, cool, Olaf is lime!” he says, pulling off one of its (his? You’ve never been quite sure how to categorize a snowman) arms with glee.

You laugh, reaching over to pull one out (orange-flavored Anna) and bite it in half.

“Aish, really, you kids,” Himchan mutters to himself, “Damn this Seoul traffic.”

“Don’t worry, hyung, it’s not that far away,” Jongup chirps. “Do you want one?” He holds out a gummy towards the elder.

“No thanks,” Himchan replies. “It’s bad enough that you got me cookies, even though Daehyun will probably eat half of them.”

“You’re not even fat, hyung,” Jongup wheedles, pouting. “Not like Youngjae-hyung.”

“Hm?” Himchan asks, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up with this sudden animosity towards Youngjae?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Jongup mutters.

Himchan shoots him a look that says that this conversation is far from over, but he lets the subject drop, chattering on about a drama he’s started lately (“the lead actress is horrible, really, I could do a better job than her.” “Hyung, why don’t you then?” “Because the lead actor is terrible, too, and I don’t want to have to play both roles!”) until you finally arrive at the park.

“Text me when you’re done, okay?” Himchan says as you and Jongup get out of the car. “No funny business, either of you!”

And with that, Himchan speeds off, leaving a metaphorical blast of wind to the face.

Jongup stares after the car for a few moments, lips pursed, before he readjusts the blanket under his arm and walks off without a word.

“Yah, Moon Jongup!” you half-yell, not wanting to draw attention, “don’t walk so fast!”

He leans back and wiggles his eyebrows over his sunglasses, gesturing at you to hurry up.

Cursing under your breath, you speed-walk next to him, punching him lightly on the bicep. “Idiot,” you say, “I have all the food, remember?”

Jongup pouts, turning to walk down the path to your preferred spot in the part under the trees. “You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?”

“Of course not,” you say, “how could I?”

But as you say those words, the image of a pair of grey-brown eyes flashes in the back of your mind, and you plaster a smile on your face.

“C’mon, I’m starving.”

*

The date passes uneventfully; you spend most of the time lying side by side, feeding each other snacks and exchanging anecdotes about how you’ve been lately (most of which are by Jongup, because you honestly don’t do a whole lot and Jongup seems quite eager to talk, so you let him).

Somewhere along the lines, Jongup falls asleep, and you chuckle softly, adjusting his cap and brushing a few strands of hair away from his face. He’s not the most graceful of sleepers, his mouth lying half-open and his limbs splayed every which way, but it’s cute in its own way.

You lie back, watching the clouds drift by, the sky slowly beginning to change color from pale blue to blue-tinged-pink, and you sigh.

You’ve been with Jongup for a little over six months, most of which have been him away. It’s exhausting, but you’re okay with it—it’s not like anyone else you know is actively trying to pursue you, and you don’t mind long-distance relationships.

Lately, though, you’ve started feeling a little bored, and you don’t know why. It feels like you and Jongup have lost the initial spark that kept the relationship fun and fresh when it first started, and while you still care for him deeply, you’re not sure if what you’re feeling towards him is actually love or something more akin to friendship.

You watch Jongup sleep for a little longer, listening to the soft puffs of breath escape his lips, and he looks so young and tired that you just want to wrap him up in a blanket and hug him tight.

But is it because you love him as man?

You’re not sure you want to know the answer to that question.

As the sun moves farther down the sky, you decide that the two of you have probably been here enough, and shoot Himchan a quick message. He shows up a half-hour later, scarf wrapped high around his face and sunglasses perched on his nose, and you want to laugh at him because he just looks so conspicuous, but instead you settle for shaking Jongup awake and helping him pack up all your stuff.

“You two look like you had fun,” Himchan says, voice muffled by the scarf as he helps still-half-asleep Jongup make his way to the car.

“We did,” you reply, and while Himchan would normally press for details, he decides that shoving Jongup into the van without being suspected of moving a dead body is more important.

The ride back to the dorms is silent – Jongup stares blearily out the window, you steal glances at him, and Himchan eyes both of you suspiciously in the rearview mirror.

“Do you wanna come in?” Jongup asks, once Himchan pulls up.

“It’s getting late,” you reply, “I should probably just go home.”

It’s a feeble lie – it’s barely six in the evening – but Jongup doesn’t comment on it, instead simply pressing a kiss to your cheek and sliding out of the car. You exit on the other side, waving as you walk to the bus stop.

He doesn’t wait with you this time, and that’s a fact not lost on you as you board the bus, eyes lingering on the dorm as you pull away.

*

The following months are touch and go – he’s still out of the country what seems like every other week, and what with your own schedule, it’s difficult to make time for just the two of you. The Kakao messages you exchange get shorter as the length of time between each reply gets longer, and sometimes you wonder if you’re even dating at all.

Sometime around the second month, though, you start getting messages from someone else.

Namely, one Yoo Youngjae.

The exchanges between the two of you seem innocuous, mostly of him sending stupid selcas or pictures of scenery, occasionally punctuated by a this reminded me of you! or something equally cheesy.

Sometimes, you wonder if Youngjae’s trying to flirt with you, but that couldn’t possibly be it, right? He knows full well you’re dating Jongup, and you love him.

(Or do you? Is an absent boyfriend still one?)

(But Youngjae’s nice, charming, and he makes your heart flutter in a way that it hasn’t in a while, and you feel so guilty but at the same time this feels so much more right than anything else has in a long time.)

(But it still feels wrong, so wrong.)

One afternoon, as you’re lying on your bed scrolling through some news feed, a little yellow square pops up in the corner of your phone.

come over?

There’s nothing more, no context, and you surprise yourself at the speed with which you get ready, throwing on some decent clothes and taking the familiar route to the dorm.

It’s Junhong who answers the door today, and he gives you a slightly puzzled look as he lets you in.

“Jonguppie-hyung wasn’t expecting you…” he says, tone halfway between talking to himself and actually directing the question to you, but he’s soon cut off.

“That’s because I invited her,” Youngjae cuts in smoothly, reaching behind him to shut the door. “That was fast.”

You shrug. “I didn’t have time to get lost.”

He chuckles at that, ruffling his hair with his hand. “I suppose that’s true.”

A sudden call of your name draws your attention, and you turn to see Jongup emerging from his room.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice more curious than anything else. “I don’t remember asking you to come over…”

“That’s because I did,” Youngjae says, his voice light but laden with something else, something that darkens Jongup’s eyes and brings him storming over, grabbing the front of Youngjae’s shirt.

“What are you doing, hyung?” he asks, his voice taking on a similar color.

Youngjae seems remarkably calm, given the situation at hand. “Just inviting a friend over. I can do that, can’t I?”

“Bull.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard Jongup swear, and you gasp, a similar sound echoed by Junhong behind you. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him angry, honestly, but his anger seems to have sparked another fire in Youngjae’s eyes.

“Perhaps you might want to take this somewhere a bit more… private?” Youngjae asks, eyes flicking over to you and Junhong in turn.

Jongup’s eyes narrow. “They can stay. Unless they’d rather leave.”

Junhong’s departing footsteps are quick, and you wonder if he’s left to go get one of the older members (probably Yongguk, but who knows, really?).

Part of you wants to leave, but that part doesn’t seem to be the one keeping your feet glued to the floor.

You never wanted this to happen, never wanted anyone to fight over you – and from the looks of things, this is going to turn into an actual fight.

“Jongup-ah,” you say, voice shaking, “calm down—”

“Calm down?” he asks, his expression unchanging but his grip slackening enough for Youngjae to right himself. “How can I calm down, knowing that you’re going behind my back like this?”

“Jongup-ah, stop. You’re angry, you don’t mean this!”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t need!”

You flinch, and Jongup steps back, eyes widening as he realizes that he’s just snapped at you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t.” Your voice is a whisper, and you don’t trust yourself to speak louder, afraid that your voice will break. “I know you didn’t, Jongup, but this… it needs to stop.”

“But I did stop?”

You shake your head. “No, Jongup, the-the everything,” you say, gesturing wildly to make up for the words you don’t know how to put into being.

“You… do you want to break up?”

Jongup’s face has never been a particularly emotive one – either he’s smiling, dark, or passive – but anyone could tell that he’s completely and utterly hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “but I just… lately, things haven’t been the best between us. I still love you, Jongup, but I’m not in love with you. And that sounds stupid, but that’s the only way I can describe it.”

Jongup’s eyes close, and his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing.

A touch on your shoulder startles you, and you look to see that Youngjae’s moved over and has wrapped an arm around you. In any other situation, you might appreciate it, but now it only serves to remind you that you and Jongup are no longer together and that Youngjae was a fairly large cause of it.

Jongup’s eyes open again. “Is it because of him?”

You don’t say anything, but he sighs nonetheless.

“I guess… I guess I can’t stop you, if that’s what you want. But… I can’t be happy for you. Not now.”

You bite your lip, nod slowly – what else can you do, when you know exactly what you’ve just done?

“I… I’m going back into my room,” he mutters, eyes closed. “I think it’s best if we don’t see each other for a while.”

His voice cracks on the last syllable and you can see the tightness in his shoulders as he walks away.

You’re sorry for him, because you hurt him, and you can’t stand to see him hurting.

But at the same time, you’re relieved, because now you know you’re not lying to the both of you.

“Youngjae…” you say, turning to him at last. “I won’t deny that I might have feelings for you. But I can’t, not now.”

Youngjae seems to have expected this, at least, and he nods.

“I’m sorry for asking you to come.”

“Don’t apologize. If not now, we would have broken up sometime else.”

You’re putting on a brave front, but you can feel it starting to crack, and you turn away, heading for the door.

“Do you want me to—”

“No, thanks. I would rather be alone right now.”

The door closing behind you seems so final, and you brush aside tears as you walk past the bus stop, instead choosing to take the long way to try and clear your head.

Even though you know it was for the better, it still hurts, especially since it had to end like this.

The tears finally spill, hot in the corners of your eyes as you wipe them off with the cuff of your shirtsleeve, the long walk ahead only serving to remind you how alone you are now.

But it’ll be over, soon, once you figure out how to work it out.

wow I really did not like this fic but I don't think I could make it any better tbh. definitely no sequel for this, it was draining enough as it was OTL

...and it is with great sadness that I mark this complete.

c'mon guys, shoot me some bap requests plZ IM BEGGING YOU they're my #1 but everyone's requesting exo lol

or if member pairings are more your thing, send me some of those too ^^;;