“Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen Jongdae here in a long time,” Mrs Oh exclaims out of the blue. Sehun chokes on his water. “We should invite him over for dinner, don’t you think?”

“Uh. Well. I don’t know if he’ll want to?”

“What do you mean he won’t want to? You and Jongdae have been friends for-” Mrs Oh narrows her eyes at Sehun. “Did you two have a fight?”

Sehun fidgets under her knowing gaze, and with a sigh, decides to explain. There’s no way he could keep this hidden from her and it feels nice to let it all out anyway, although he’s careful to keep quiet about his wild habits.

“Oh, honey,” Mrs Oh says, disappointment clear in her eyes.

“I know, I know,” Sehun sighs, “I was stupid. I am stupid. But Mom, I really want him to be my best friend again.”

His mother purses her lips. “Well, if you’re serious about repairing your relationship with him, then you should break ties with Jongin and his friends. That’s the first step to ending this, isn’t it? And I will be speaking to Jongdae’s parents about this treatment, poor thing.”

“But Mom,” Sehun says quietly, “you know how they feel about Jongdae. They’re not gonna care.”

Mrs Oh’s eyes harden. “It’s time they do. They’ve been slacking off too much based on silly excuses. In fact,” she sniffs, turning to the sink and beginning to scrub at the dishes, “they don’t even deserve to be called parents. I saw Jongdae at the supermarket last week picking up groceries and he was so skinny, with these huge eyebags. That boy’s always been full of life, and this is the first time I’ve seen him look so small…”

The sound of running water picks up from where Mrs Oh trails off and Sehun catches his reflection in a washed kettle. His solemn eyes stare back at him accusingly and with a jolt Sehun realizes that they are empty, empty like the hearts of Jongin and Lay and Donghae, empty like the kids he’s always made fun of.

He has turned himself into a monster.

Sehun has turned himself into the one person he hates the most.

Muffled words can be heard from behind the door to the backroom and Jongdae, arriving to the store for his shift, arches an eyebrow at Luhan’s crouched figure.

“Really hyung? Eavesdropping?”

Luhan brings a slender finger to his lips. “Baekhyun and Kyungsoo have been in there for five minutes and I want to hear if they’re making out or Baekhyun’s hurting him again.”

“That’s none of your business,” Jongdae argues. “You should let them have some moments for themselves.”

Luhan directs the finger to Jongdae’s soft cheek.

“You, sir, are one to talk,” he declares. “Always secretive about your days at school and never opening up to us anymore.” His eyes soften as he says, “Don’t think we haven’t noticed your cuts and wincing, Jongdae. Why do you keep lying to us?”

Jongdae is saved from replying when a loud moan floats through the door and Luhan smirks.

“Yep, making out.”

It’s quiet in his house. The walls are white and the only sound heard in the place at all is the hum of the heating whooshing from the vents and circulating throughout the house.

And soon, even that sound will be gone. The snow is melting, the March sun brightening with every passing day, and heating won’t be needed anymore.

Jongdae sits at his small desk, pushing on his toes to spin him from side to side in his swivel chair. Homework is killing him and the latest bruise on his throbbing arm isn’t doing anything to help.

After tirelessly working on his essay, Jongdae can no longer ignore the growling in his stomach and glances at the time. 7 PM. Why didn’t his mother call him for dinner?

Ah. Yes. His parents do their best to pretend he isn’t there.

Jongdae wills his tears away. He should be used to this treatment by now, and besides, he’s cried too much lately.

The doorbell rings and since no one seems to care enough to open the door, Jongdae himself goes downstairs.

“Hi.”

He’s about to slam the door shut but Sehun slips in.

“What do you want,” Jongdae sighs.

“My mom was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner,” Sehun says. “I would really like it if you came. She’s really worried about you.”

“That’s one person,” Jongdae shrugs, and Sehun’s heart stings a bit. “Tell her thank you, but no.”

Sehun nods and makes to leave but he turns and bites his lip, making eye contact with Jongdae. “I- Please. I know you hate me, hyung. But she’s worried about you. We both are. I want to make sure you’re eating right,” he mumbles.

I could never hate you.

Jongdae grits his teeth, angry at the fact that Sehun still manages to seep into all of his cracks no matter how much Jongdae has to push through.

“Alright.”

Sehun’s bright smile lights up Jongdae’s dark corner but he’s not sure if it’s safe to leave his pain.

Mrs Oh is still the same warm woman she’s always been. She fusses over Jongdae, heaping  more food on his plate, and constantly reaching over the table to fix his hair or pat his cheek. Jongdae doesn’t mind, though. He’s never minded. These fleeting touches are the closest he has to a mother’s love and if he has to go over to his (ex?) best friend’s house to receive them, then he will.

“My my, Jongdae, you’ve gotten so skinny,” Mrs Oh frets, mushing his face in her hands. “What have you been eating? Sticks?”

“Food,” Jongdae manages from her grip on his cheeks.

She removes her hands and tsks at him. “You need someone to take more care of you, honey.”

“I have friends at my workplace who do just that, Mrs Oh.”

She frowns at the traces of powder on her fingers and gasps slightly when she looks at where her hands had covered earlier.

“Oh, Jongdae.”

Terror flits across Jongdae’s face and he bolts to the bathroom. His makeup has smeared and contusions, even the cut on his neck, are in plain view.

“Thank you for the dinner,” he says hurriedly, “but I really think I should go.” Bowing once, Jongdae opens the front door and flees.

Sehun is staring down at his plate when Mrs Oh breaks the silence. “I expect you to confront Jongin about this and report him and his friends to the school. From what I can see, this has been going on far too long.” She gathers the dishes and heads to the kitchen.

Sehun wonders what he has to lose.

“Yo, Sehun. We’re gonna hit up Shot tonight. Be at my house by ten.”

“Actually, Jongin,” Sehun says, gritting his teeth, “I’m not going.”

Jongin and Yixing blink at each other.

“What?”

“In fact, I’m not spending time with you ever. You guys never really cared about me. All you did was give me rides to clubs and hurt Jongdae. All I got out of this was lies and free drinks.” Sehun spits at Tao’s feet. “You guys are disgusting. As much as I’ve ed up, I’m at least trying to clean myself up now. My advice is for you is to do the same and to leave me and Jongdae the alone.”

No one speaks. Sehun is about to walk away when Jongin splutters, “What the , man.”

“I could say the same to you, dickhead,” Sehun says brusquely.

Jongin, silent with shock, spins on his heels and stalks away. Tao and Yixing follow, glancing at Sehun uneasily.

Although he feels great, Sehun knows this won’t last. Jongin won’t leave this alone. And he’ll have to prepare for that.

A thump catches his attention and Sehun turns to see a red-faced Jongdae scrambling to pick up his textbook.

“...hyung?”

Jongdae clears his throat and looks down at his shoes.

“How long were you…”

“Enough,” the older boy replies.

He slowly steps forward, biting his lip. “You did that for me?” he whispers.

Sehun nods.

Jongdae whimpers and throws down his supplies to wrap his arms around Sehun.

“Sehun,” he cries, “Sehun, I-” love you. So much. I love you so much that it hurts more than any scar Jongin has ever given me. I love you I love you I love you I love you

“Sehun, I… I missed you.”

The arms of his oblivious best friend rest gently on his back and Jongdae has never wanted anything so much.

The next few months are a nightmare.

Strict teachers wanting to shape them into a college mold, the ridicules of Jongin’s crew, and the constant alarm in Sehun’s head that rings every time he’s with Jongdae makes him feel tired as hell.

They’re back to normal now, but something… something isn’t right.

Jongdae is jittery and nervous around him. He spends more time at the music store than he does with Sehun, and it feels just like sophomore year again, when Jongdae avoided him like the plague.

Sehun hates this uncertainty and he hates not knowing what to do.

A month before graduation, as Jongdae washes the dishes to thank Mrs Oh for the dinner, Sehun sidles up next to him to help dry the utensils. Instantly, Jongdae’s body goes rigid, and Sehun frowns.

“Do you need something?” the older boy asks as he hands the last plate to Sehun.

“Yeah, actually,” Sehun replies. “I want to know why you’re ignoring me?”

Jongdae looks like he’s about to bolt so Sehun stands directly in front of him. Somehow Jongdae seems even more terrified.

“Yes, I noticed,” Sehun says softly. “Jongdae, I know you, and I care about you. Just tell me why.”

The feeling of warm lips on his own sends an electric zing through Sehun’s whole body. Jongdae pulls away, shaking.

“That’s why,” he murmurs. “That’s the way it’s been for four years.”

The plate slips out of Sehun’s slackened grip and shatters into twenty pieces.

“I’m sorry, Sehun. I’m- I’m sorry, but- I love you.”

jongdae: *taeyang voice* im so sorry but i love u

me: *tablo voice* dont hate me please love me