A major pounding noise wakes Chanyeol up, so he sits up and looks around the room confusedly, because where is the sound coming from? Where am I? Why am I so hot?

Oh. Right. He’s lying in Yixing’s living room, suffering from his first hangover. That’s right. That explains what the pounding noise is; it’s his own brain enduring a hangover induced migraine. Lovely.

He quietly sighs, because he doesn’t want to wake anyone else up at this putrid hour, and throws himself down into the cushiony-pallet he fell asleep on. As he lies there, staring at the ceiling and hearing the faint buzz of a speaker without any music playing (along with the throbbing beat going on in his brain), he recaps on last night, and well, he finds that, surprisingly, he remembers a considerable amount more than he was expecting. There was a lot of laughing, and Jongin being cute, and Zitao and Sehun being gross, and Jongin sharing his warmth, and Kris, the tall guy, coming over briefly, and Jongin’s bright eyes watching him, and Sehun puking, and now his mouth feels incredibly dry; he’s assuming that’s because of the smoking part of last night.

But, really, did last night solve anything for him? Jongin said before they smoked that he needed to relax, and he’s sure he felt relaxed before the end of the night, hell he even feels relaxed right now, even with his pulsating migraine. But, did relaxation for a day solve anything for him?

Because, now that he thinks about it, he’s just as lonely as he was after Baekhyun turned away from him and never looked back. Despite the smoking, and the drinking, and the good time he had with his new friends, the reality still remains that it’s been one day and he already misses his friends, and right now, that he’s lying on a cushioned-padded something in Yixing’s living room, he feels the undeniable beginnings of anxiety creeping through his body, and he’s praying that that “anxiety” isn’t vomit held over from last night.

Chanyeol begins breathing heavily, because with that anxiety, every repressed feeling and memory of his life is rising. Throughout his life, he has successfully repressed any memory that he isn’t fond of; he was too shy to talk to a girl who he thought was pretty in kindergarten - it was repressed until now. He fell off his skateboard at age ten and the neighborhood kids laughed at him - it was repressed until now. He wet the bed at a friend’s house - it was repressed until now. And last night, he tried to repress the feeling of abandonment from his lifelong friends through weed and alcohol - and it was repressed, until now.

Before his eyes, he sees old memories of accidentally stealing a pack of gum at the store, and then him getting yelled at for stealing it. He sees the time in eighth grade when he cried in the middle of class, for no particular reason. He sees the time he first experienced a mood swing, and then a series of every mood swing he’s ever had comes circling in and out of his vision, reminding him of the terror of not being in control of his emotions, and the desperate need to repress them.

By this point, his breathing is audible, and he’s physically shaking in terror that these mood swings are going to take over his present mood and send him into an altered state of mind where all of his composure will be ripped away and he’ll continually be reminded of every mistake he’s made, or every bad emotional experience he’s had, or every memory he’s tried to repress.

And now, he fears that the memories have won, because right before his eyes is a succession of mental pictures of all the people he’s missed, or all the people he’s missing, and he can point out the distant picture of a full family, and in the front of this collage is a picture of him, Baekhyun, and Jongdae smiling from freshman year, and beside that is a picture of his little sister-

.

“,” Chanyeol weakly yells, and he sits up so quickly he gets a sense of vertigo and nausea, leading him to believe that his earlier “anxiety” really was vomit because he may have to puke right now.

He haphazardly throws his arm around the general area, searching for his phone, and he finally finds it halfway under his pillow. Chanyeol unlocks his phone, and his eyes widen considerably, causing him to not-so-quietly yell, “.” He launches himself off of the floor, and he’s just now realizing that he’s half- and that he was previously spooning Jongin, who looks really hot who he doesn’t have time to deal with right now.

He looks around the living room for everyone else, and he sees Taemin asleep on the couch with a book on his lap (how could he read anything if he was stoned?), and Yixing appears to be passed out on his kitchen counter. He has no idea where Sehun and Zitao are, and frankly, he doesn’t want to know. He searches the area for his clothes, and with his pounding headache, rising anxiety from the multitude of missed calls, and continuing remembrance of repressed memories, it takes him way longer than he anticipated to find anything. When he finally manages to find at least someone’s shirt (at this point, he doesn’t care if it’s his or Jongin’s, or anyone’s, really) and his pair of jeans, he hurriedly puts them on and nearly trips over Jongin’s long legs on his way to the door. Realizing he’s left his phone on the floor, he quietly curses and goes back to grab it, causing him not to notice someone else’s movement to the door.

He turns back around and walks to the door when he sees Jongin, in his shirtless glory, in front of Yixing’s door with his arms crossed and a sleepy, cute puzzled expression. “Chanyeol-ah, where are you going so early?” Jongin yawns, “What time is it?”

Chanyeol doesn’t know if he’s afraid to meet Jongin’s eyes or if he’d rather stare at his chest, but Jongin lifts Chanyeol’s chin to make him look him in the eyes when Jongin asks again, “Channie, where are you going so frantically? I almost didn’t catch you before you were gone. Bless your forgetfulness and my quick dancer reflexes.” Jongin chuckles.

Chanyeol tries to laugh, but Jongin reminding him of his forgetfulness has him checking his phone again and groaning when he sees he still has more than fifteen texts to read and twenty missed calls to go through. “I’ve just, I’ve really got to go, Jongin.”

Jongin doesn’t budge. “Where?”

Chanyeol sighs, drags a hand through his hair, and nervously adjusts his sideburns. “Home. I’ve got to go home.”

Jongin looks at him determinedly. “I’ll go with you.”

Chanyeol laughs, and his sardonic laughter eerily ades a room filled with unconscious teenagers. “You’re funny. No. Please move.”

Jongin sighs, and puffs his bottom lip while making his eyes even more cute sleepy looking. “Please Chanyeollie? What if your parents wonder where you were? I would be there to defend you and say you were with me and we forgot to call!”

Chanyeol stares at the boy expressionlessly for at least half a minute, shakes his head, and sighs. “Sure, fine whatever. Put on a shirt and some pants and we’ll leave.”

Jongin walks over to find some clothes and, feeling Chanyeol’s gaze on his lower back, he smirks and says, “Oh, but Chanyeol, I thought you were enjoying the view?” Chanyeol quickly looks awake and coughs, hoping to hide his blush. Jongin returns a few minutes later, wearing his jeans and the sweater from last night, and Chanyeol now realizes he’s wearing the tank top Jongin had on last night after the sweater. Chanyeol quietly opens the front door and the two leave the house. Chanyeol, thankfully, put his keys deep in his pocket last night, so he is able to find them rather easily, unlock his doors, and crank the car without a hassle. Jongin piles into the passenger seat, and he pulls out his phone quickly to type something, then puts it back in his pocket, telling Chanyeol that he sent Yixing and Taemin a text letting them know that they had to leave early. Chanyeol smiles at Jongin’s quick thinking and backs out of Yixing’s driveway and onto the road.

Chanyeol doesn’t live too far away from Yixing, tops twenty minutes, but that doesn’t prevent Jongin from falling asleep on the way. Chanyeol chuckles under his breath and turns down the radio, so as to not wake the other boy up. When they finally arrive at his apartment complex, Jongin is still sleeping, so Chanyeol can’t resist taking a photo of him before gently shaking him. “Jonginnie, we’re here.”

Jongin looks confused for a few seconds before he smiles and yawns. “Do you have any cologne or something in here? I don’t think your folks will want you going in there smelling like an ashtray and booze.”

Chanyeol nervously chuckles and reaches into his back seat for a bottle of febreeze. “No, I suppose not. You go first, then I’ll spray some on me.”

After Chanyeol finishes spraying his shirt and jeans, and getting Jongin to spray the back of his clothes, he locks his car and leads Jongin into the complex and then into the elevator. As the elevator rises to the eighth floor, Chanyeol looks at his phone and sees that it’s only 8:50 AM. He sighs and looks through some of his messages, six being from Luhan (one of those from Minseok who was assumingly with Luhan), four from Jongdae, two from his sister, and three from Joonmyun. After skimming through the messages, he opens his missed call log when he hears the customary ding and feels the elevator stop moving. He, with Jongin in tow, walks down the hallway and when he’s at his front door, he breathes audibly, pulls out his keys, and unlocks the door.

Chanyeol shuffles through the door and takes off his shoes, Jongin doing the same, before he walks straight through the apartment to the living room where he sees his younger sister watching TV.

She looks over at them after hearing them enter the apartment and gently smiles. “Hey, Channie. Who’s your friend?”

Chanyeol looks from his sister, to Jongin, then back to his sister. “This is Jongin, Jongin this is Haeun. Were you guys alright last night? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Jongin looks at him, at his teary eyes, confused, but Chanyeol doesn’t look at the other boy, instead focusing on his sister.

She mumbles, “Yeah, we were fine. When you didn’t answer, I called mother and she came and stayed with us.” Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide and she sighs, “Yes, I did the usual. I checked this morning, everything’s still there.”

Chanyeol sighs in relief and smiles. “Good. Did she leave anything, or tell you anything before she left? What time did she leave?” He murmurs, “Oh, and, um thank you for doing something when I was too stupid; dammit, I could have called Joon-” Chanyeol groans and looks away from everyone, with all the repressed memories he fought away returning with a vengeance and reminding him that his friends aren’t his friends anymore.

His sister bites her lip and takes a deep breath before saying, “Channie, she wants you to call her. And, well, she also said some other stuff.”

He turns his head so quickly to look at her that he hears his neck pop, and he groans in slight pain. “Like what?”

She looks apprehensively from Jongin back to her brother. “Do you want me to say it in front of….”

Chanyeol, for the first time in a few minutes, looks over at Jongin and back to his sister. “Might as well; I’d rather hear it now.”

She looks away from the two of them and stares pointedly at her lap. “Sh- She said that you shouldn’t be wasting your time like you did last night, and if you do it again, she’ll….. I don’t know, it had something to do with benefits and lessening. I don’t remember, so I think that’s why you should call her.”

“Like hell I’ll call her.” Chanyeol grits out, collects his thoughts, then asks, “Is Hoon still sleeping?”

“Ya, I guess so.”

“Okay. I’m going into my room, so if you need me, knock okay?”

Haeun smiles and nods her head, returning her focus to the TV. Chanyeol turns to Jongin and ushers him into his room not far from the living room. When the two enter his bedroom, Chanyeol sighs, closes the door, and flops down onto his bed, Jongin joining him.

“Look, um, I’m sorry you had to hear all that, yeah I don’t really talk about my family too much, for good reason honestly.”

Jongin hums and turns his body so that he’s laying on his side, facing Chanyeol, who is face down in his blankets. “Chanyeol-ah, what did your sister mean by benefits?”

Chanyeol rises so quickly he nearly knocks Jongin off the bed. “Why do you want to know?”

“I-I was just cur-”

Chanyeol deeply breathes, lies back down on his side, facing Jongin, then says, “I’ll give you the abridged version if you promise not to tell anyone. I’m serious, not my friends, not our friends, not anyone.”

Jongin grabs his hand, crosses their pinkies, then interlocks their fingers with a smile. “Pinky promise.”

Chanyeol bites his lip, then says, “So, uh…. The benefits are death benefits.”

Chanyeol stops talking, and though Jongin has an idea of what Chanyeol will say, he prompts him to continue by tightening their interlocked hands and saying, “What death benefits, Channie?”

Chanyeol rolls over to stare at the ceiling and mumbles, “What do you think, Jongin? I just, I never talk about this - ever. I don’t know how to handle this.”

Jongin’s eyes look very concerned, a completely different concerned than what he’s used to seeing, a concerned that means curious to other people. “Breathe Chanyeol, that’s the first step.” He pauses and looks away from Chanyeol to the painting on Chanyeol’s ceiling. It’s a childlike painting of a few people with very large smiles and a dog in front of a house and a smiling sun in the background. Jongin’s heart clenches. “Was it…. Your dad who died?”

Chanyeol sighs loudly and uses their linked hands to cover his eyes. “Yes.”

Jongin, still staring at the painting, faintly asks, “When?”

“End of freshman year.”

“And your mother? How does she come into this story?”

“She’s weaved her way in and out of this story too many times to count,” Chanyeol sardonically laughs and moves their interlocked hands to his side in between his and Jongin’s bodies. “She left my family when I was… Dammit I don’t remember, but I was a pubescent or something, and even before then she was a rather absent mother, who in her absence was still manipulative - much like she is now. She came around pretending to give a damn about my siblings after my dad died…..  but that was all a stupid ploy to get the monthly benefits.”

Jongin stops looking at the painting and returns his confused gaze to Chanyeol. “... And, she…. Doesn’t live here?”

“She pops in from time to time ‘with love and care.’” Chanyeol rolls his eyes, but doesn’t take his focus away from the painting.

“But, should she be receiving the money if she isn’t taking care of you guys?”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes again and stares at Jongin. “Jongin, you’re rather intelligent. I’m sure the gears in your mind already have an answer to that question. I’m sure you’ve been able to read me and tell what I was about to say this whole time.”

“I- Chanyeol, sometimes it’s better to-”

“Talk about your problems?” Chanyeol laughs again, and Jongin thinks he’s never heard Chanyeol laugh this cynically, ever. “Perhaps it is, but that’s never worked for me.” He sighs. “Look, she shouldn’t receive the money, but she does. I can’t stop her because she gives me a fraction of it and I need that to take care of my siblings.” Jongin starts to interrupt him, but Chanyeol looks at him sharply before continuing, “And, before you ask, I can’t turn her in because I love my sister and brother too much to leave them, or to let us be separated which will happen if the feds realize she isn’t our caretaker. I can’t do that to them; I can’t be separated from my siblings.”

Silence fills the air, giving Jongin time to look around Chanyeol’s room. Besides the painting on the ceiling, Chanyeol has other forms of art along his walls, on his dresser, on his nightstand. He sees a few more childlike creations on the wall beside his closet, most of them involving the same people and dog that were in the painting on Chanyeol’s ceiling. Some of the other art pieces look much more sophisticated, like an older artist made them. Most of these are sketches and watercolor, but nevertheless, the pieces are incredible.

On his mirror above the dresser, Jongin sees many taped pictures of Chanyeol and his friends, most notably Baekhyun and Jongdae. Some of them appear to be from middle school or even earlier. On his dresser and his nightstand are professional-looking photographs of his siblings, of Chanyeol with an older man that Jongin assumes is his father, Baekhyun and Jongdae, the rest of his friends at what appears to be homecoming, and a few of nature.

Jongin was expecting Chanyeol to be a bit of slob when it came to keeping his room clean, so he’s rather surprised at how well kept it actually is, with hardly any clothes in the floor and no dishes in the room. Chanyeol even keeps a row of sticky notes on his door as reminders of what to do.

After he finishes looking around Chanyeol’s room, Jongin asks, “How old is Haeun?”

“Twelve.”

“And Hoon?”

“Ten.”

Silence returns for a few seconds until Jongin blurts out, “Chanyeol, I’m sorry I let Yixing talk you into last night because you obviously had other things on your mind and responsibilities and and-” He cuts himself off at Chanyeol’s laughter, and for once today, it isn’t remotely sardonic.

“You know, you’re a week late on that?” Chanyeol chuckles.

“What are you talking about?” Jongin slowly smiles.

“When we went to the park, you said you’d have a ‘full drawn out plan’ for me by the end of the week on how to not grow up.” Chanyeol smirks.

“Channie, that’s not what I meant-”

“But it worked,” Chanyeol wistfully smiles, “Last night, and well this morning, reminded me that I’m still a seventeen year old, and I’m going to make mistakes, and I’m allowed to do that? I don’t know, maybe I’m not, but what I’m trying to say here is don’t feel guilty about last night. If I wasn’t willing to do it, then I would have said no. So, it’s alright, Jongin.”

“About last night,” Jongin tentatively begins, “I know you haven’t forgotten all that happened. Weed doesn’t make you black out. You didn’t drink enough to make you not remember, but for the sake of memory, here you go.” Jongin leans forward and gently takes Chanyeol’s lips in a chaste kiss before smiling and moving away.

“I’m not forcing you into anything, just, uh, don’t forget I’m here? If you need me? As a friend, as...” Jongin sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “As, well whatever, I’m here?”

“Thanks.” Chanyeol mumbles, and Jongin sighs before quickly kissing him again, then he stands up and says, “I think Taemin wanted to have practice today so I should probably get going. I’ll see you, Yeollie.”

Chanyeol rises from the bed as well. “This early? Do you need me to drive you?”

Jongin smiles and shakes his head. “No, I’ll catch a bus. Thanks, though. Oh, and Chanyeol, if you need me, for anything at all, don’t be afraid to call or text me. Okay?”

Chanyeol looks at the floor when he faintly murmurs, “Okay, but that’s the worst thing about this whole mess: I’m missing everybody, but I feel like I don’t need anybody, and I don’t know if I want to change that.”

Jongin looks at him strangely until he lifts Chanyeol’s chin and smiles. “You should change it for me, or make me the lucky exception.” Jongin presses his lips against Chanyeol’s one last time, tenderly on his bottom lip before he chuckles into the kiss and move away with a grin.

“See you Monday, Yeollie. Don’t forget to text me if you need anything.” Jongin moves to leave, but Chanyeol follows after him, saying he’ll him out.

Jongin passes by the living room and says, “See you next time Haeun!” and the girl grins broadly in response, prompting Jongin to say, “Wow, she smiles just like you Channie!”

Once they’re at the front door, Jongin looks like he’s going to speak again when Chanyeol leans in and kisses him on the lips, then on his cheek. “Yes, I’ll text you if I need anything. Thanks for coming and keeping me sane.”

“Of course, Chanyeol. See you Monday!”

“Monday,” and Chanyeol closes the door.

-

I don't know how a system like death benefits works in Korea (or even where I'm from, tbh), so yeah I hope it made sense even if it doesn't exist lolol.