Weddings were boring.

As far as Jongdae was concerned, that was a fact of life. His life, anyway. After a tedious wedding ceremony (that is, if you asked Jongdae, who had fought tooth and nail to stay awake), the reception had relocated to a five star hotel in the midst of Seoul.

Schooling his features into a pleasant smile, he bowed and exchanged pleasantries with each guest that approached him. He recognised a depressingly low number of faces amongst the invitees, though it didn’t seem to go the other way. He hadn’t had a break from the strangers who came to greet him with wide smiles and sometimes kisses, fussing over how he’d grown to become such a fine young man, your parents must be so proud.

The parents that had left Jongdae to fend for himself at a wedding of mostly very distant relatives. Currently in Shanghai, his parents had given the excuse of having too much work to attend the wedding, but will you please go as a representative of our family? Because, of course, Jongdae’s older brother had also been hindered.

(Jongdae would bet his right arm that his brother was currently getting drunk somewhere with his friends, the traitor.)

Thus, Jongdae found himself as the only member of his immediate family to attend the union of two people he didn’t even know, or remember the names of. He was pretty sure, despite being the youngest son, that he was still a bit of a thorn in the side of his parents because he had chosen a different path, away from the family business, and that this was their retaliation. Regardless of how much they still loved him, they made sure he knew how much that decision bothered them. His parents would grow to support him and his choices in due time, though, he was certain.

But for now, Jongdae, needless to say, wasn’t pleased.

There was one good thing about weddings, though. Namely, the food and drinks, and Jongdae, the moment he saw his chance, seized the opportunity to escape to some table, picking out small bite-size morsels to stuff his mouth full so he had an excuse not to talk to people.

He wondered if the drinks were alcoholic. Perhaps getting drunk could make this evening slightly more bearable. And if he remembered nothing come morning, well, all the better. But before he could try, another stranger found their way to him, and he plastered a pleasant smile on his face.

Jongdae was seriously starting to hate his life. And weddings. ing weddings.

With money and grandeur came the need to keep up appearances, and he was sick of all the sugary sweet smiles that held no sincerity he had received throughout the day. People were snobbish and all they cared about was how they were perceived by their peers. If he had wanted to deal with people like this, he would have stayed in his family’s business.

Call him an ungrateful brat, but sometimes, Jongdae really wished he hadn’t been born into such an upscale family.

He needed a drink. Thus, the second he was left to his own, and before another distant uncle or aunt could get to him, he started towards the nearest table with glasses of varying alcoholic drinks settled into neat lines sorted in colour and kind. He grabbed the closest glass, sighing in relief as he raised it to his lips and swallowed at least half of its content, too done with life to sip it like all these other snobs.

And then he made the mistake of making eye contact with a woman he, to try something new, recognised. And, really, that wouldn’t have been much of a problem (believe it or not, Jongdae generally was a rather social butterfly), if only she hadn’t been the mother of Kim Junmyeon.

“Oh, God, here we go,” Jongdae muttered under his breath, downing the drink as he saw the approach. Lord knew he needed alcohol in his system to deal with Junmyeon, and a lot of it, at that. Enough to not remember anything when he woke up tomorrow at noon, hangover be damned.

But suddenly, he was overjoyed that his parents weren’t present.

Jongdae wasn’t exactly sure how his family and Junmyeon’s intersected, explained to him once when he was young and too afraid to admit all of the titles hurt his head. He just knew, technically, they weren’t blood, but related by a string of marriages that bound them together in some sort of way.

Junmyeon was everything a parent would ever want in a son, and Jongdae’s own parents were no exception. Where Jongdae had carved his own path, making a name for himself in architecture, Junmyeon had stuck to the family business, swiftly working his way up the ranks with his intellect and charm (it had been his own wish to start from scratch, stating that it was only fair he proved himself like anyone else). He was perfectly polite, well-mannered, and hardworking, traits he was widely praised for. And to make matters worse, Junmyeon had women fawning over him and his princely looks and behaviour, with a smile that could brighten up the whole room (not that Jongdae was of that particular mindset).

Jongdae had disliked Junmyeon ever since their paths first crossed, and he knew Junmyeon wasn’t particularly fond of him, either.

But his parents were, and so Junmyeon and Jongdae had to greet each other with polite smiles and bows.

“Jongdae!” Junmyeon’s mother cooed, patting his cheek with a soft hand. “My, how you’ve grown! You’ve gotten so handsome since I last saw you. When was it? Two years ago?”

“Three, Mother,” Junmyeon corrected, standing straight and tall (small, Jongdae thought smugly, noting that he still seemed to have a centimetre or two on the older) by his mother’s side. “It was for Uncle’s niece’s graduation from med school.”

Graduations were right up there with weddings on things Jongdae hated to attend, especially when Junmyeon had been seated next to him. Surely, the uncle must have had it out for him, to put them in such close proximity for a two hour ceremony.

“Oh, that’s right!” she exclaimed, before turning back to Jongdae with a bright smile. Junmyeon must have gotten it from her, Jongdae mused. “Are you here alone, dear? Did your parents not accompany you?”

Jongdae shook his head. “They are in Shanghai, overseeing some new project.”

“I see,” she nodded. “That’s a shame.”

Not really.

“But they must be so proud of you,” the woman continued.

“We hear your company is doing well,” Junmyeon’s father joined, nodding to himself. “It is remarkable, what you are doing. Expanding the family business, taking it to a new level.”

It was ironic, Jongdae thought dryly, how Junmyeon’s parents praised him to the clouds, whilst his own parents degraded his choice of work, lamenting that he wasn’t more like Junmyeon. Junmyeon is taking over the family business. Why can’t you be as loyal? they would complain. He is always so kind and polite, and he has grown to become such a fine young man. The woman he decides to marry in the future will be so lucky, to be blessed with such a man like Junmyeon.

Jongdae was so very tired of being compared to Junmyeon. They were not the same, never would be.

As Junmyeon’s parents inquired Jongdae about work, how he was faring, what about his brother, Junmyeon mostly stayed quiet, only joining the conversation once in a while when prompted (“Jongdae’s work is so complex and impressive, do you not agree, Junmyeon?”). Jongdae glanced at him now and then, noticing how he looked down or around, shifted his weight, pursed his lips, fiddled with his sleeves. Overall, he appeared every bit as uncomfortable as Jongdae felt.

“Why don’t you boys stay here and chat for a bit while we go congratulate the Parks on their new project?” Junmyeon’s mother eventually said, and dread settled in Jongdae’s gut. Stay with Junmyeon? Alone? “You are both young; have some fun!”

Junmyeon smile was weak around the edges, but he nodded all the same. “Yes, Mother.”

Thus, the two of them were left to their own, awkwardly standing around and avoiding each other’s eyes. Junmyeon had tensed, Jongdae noticed with a purse of his lips, obviously cursing his circumstances. Jongdae wasn’t happy at the prospect of being with the older, either.

Jongdae needed another drink. And Junmyeon, apparently, thought the same.

Each with a glass of some clear alcoholic drink and, in Jongdae’s case, chewing on one of those bite-sized morsels put on the table on small dishes, the silence between them was heavier than ever, though neither man made an effort to break it.

As always, Junmyeon was dressed to a ten in a tailored suit that showed off his slim form perfectly. Black slacks and a vest with a white buttoned up shirt beneath, the black tie around his neck meticulously tied. Jongdae, however, had shrugged off his own vest a long time ago because it had been too hot, his tie stuffed into his pocket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons in his shirt undone. He felt more comfortable that way, but around ever perfect Junmyeon, he couldn’t help but feel less. Perhaps his parents’ comments were getting to him.

It was Junmyeon who eventually broke the silence between them, having possibly grown tired of fiddling with the now-empty glass in his hands.

“Well, I think you look rather like yourself.”

Jongdae arched a brow and glanced at the older, who had turned to watch the guests. He snorted. “You mean hot? y?”

“Dishevelled.”

Jongdae huffed. “Comfortable, I believe is the word you’re looking for. Dishevelled is what you look like during and after really good .”

“Or after you just roll out of bed, which, knowing your personality, is the more likely of the two,” Junmyeon countered easily.

Narrowing his eyes, Jongdae glared at Junmyeon’s neck, wishing he had the ability to zap him with lightning. Just enough to shock him into the next decade. Jongdae asked for no more. “You might want to take those words back. I started my own company. You stayed in the nest.”

The older huffed, glancing back over his shoulder to pin Jongdae with an unimpressed stare. “I didn’t stay in the nest; I built onto it. My family’s company has never been better, thanks to my ideas.”

“Ah,” Jongdae mused, “I see your inflated ego hasn’t improved since last time. How absolutely wonderful.”

The sputter that left the otherwise so composed Junmyeon sent a thrill through Jongdae, and a smug sense of satisfaction. “You insufferable little –”

“Actually, I believe you’re the little one here,” said Jongdae offhandedly.

Junmyeon twisted around to openly gape at him, before he seemed to remember where he was and composed himself, mouth forming a smirk. “Little? Like your company? That is an insult.”

Pursing his lips, Jongdae threw the other a slight glare. “At least my company can grow.”

A scoff left Junmyeon. “Yes, like your parents’ disappointment.”

Jongdae tightened his hold on his empty glass, mouth forming a flat line as he lowered his eyes. That stung more than he cared to admit, especially to Junmyeon. Wetting his lips, he said quietly, “I never heard your parents praise you earlier, either. You might as well not have been there.”

Junmyeon tensed, and Jongdae glanced up in time to see him look away, a frown marring his face. He hesitated, before sighing, the fight seemingly ebbing out of him with his next words, “Yeah, well, they’d probably prefer that.”

He straightened his back, shaking his head absently, before he offered a topic change. “Still didn’t get me out of this wedding.”

Jongdae took it. “I do not even remember the names of the newlyweds,” he said with a sigh.

He caught the dry smile that lit up Junmyeon’s face for the briefest of moments. “Neither do I. I hardly know any of the guests, either.”

Setting his empty glass on the table, Jongdae reached for a new one as he muttered, “The fakeness of it all makes me sick.”

Junmyeon came to stand beside him, reaching for a glass himself. “Though with as grand as this is, they should have gotten us stronger liquor.”

Jongdae snorted, half-surprised that such words would come from Junmyeon of all people. “I suspect they watered the drinks down. Honestly, with all the splendour, they should at least have made sure you could get drunk enough to enjoy this tedious affair they call party.”

“That’d require more liquor than they could buy,” Junmyeon mused, smiling softly.

“If it’s this water, then yes, it –” Jongdae started, only to be cut off by a scream from one of the women to their left. Jongdae twisted around to look for the cause, Junmyeon already moving and crouching by an elderly man’s side.

“Grandfather?” Jongdae heard him ask as he approached, kneeling beside Junmyeon as a horde of guests came to stand around them. The old man remained unresponsive, and Junmyeon cursed softly before he glanced up at Jongdae, the worry clear in his eyes even as he tried to remain calm. “Do you have a phone on you?” he asked as he felt around for a pulse.

“I’ll call the hospital,” Jongdae said with a nod, fishing his phone out of his pocket and typing in the number as he heard Junmyeon speak to the man in a soft voice, trying to coax him back to consciousness.

The old man’s pulse was steady, according to Junmyeon, which Jongdae relayed to the operator, along with the hotel’s name and his own contact information.

“They’ll be here in five,” Jongdae told Junmyeon, and the older man nodded quietly, keeping his eyes on the unconscious man.  

“Then we’ll wait.”

~

Jongdae found himself sitting outside a hospital room an hour later, alone, pondering the life choices that led him to this point.

The old man had regained consciousness a few minutes before the paramedics came to take him to hospital. He had complained about chest pains, and a woman in the crowd, a niece, had explained that he had a history of low blood pressure and that that might be the reason behind him collapsing. It was amazing that out of all of the highly educated guests at this party, there wasn’t a doctor. Jongdae found that funny, in an ironic kind of way.

By the time the paramedics arrived, the grandfather had asked the crowd to scatter, assuring everyone he was fine and telling them to enjoy the party. He had asked Jongdae and Junmyeon to accompany him, persistently rejecting anyone else who said they’d be glad to come with him. They were the fastest to react, after all, and they were the only ones who seemed to be doing anything about an old man collapsing. So Jongdae found himself roped into the trip with Junmyeon, under the grandfather’s request.

Jongdae hadn’t minded much. He respected his elders, and would never complain when asked to accompany someone to the hospital. The fact that it gave him a reason to leave the party was just an added bonus. But Junmyeon had come along, and that, that, he wasn’t okay with.

Granted, Junmyeon had grown up since last time they saw each other (Jongdae, admittedly, probably had also matured). Three years ago, during whatever occasion Junmyeon had said it had been again, they had been respectively twenty and twenty-two years old, adults in their parents’ and everyone else’s eyes, and yet they had bickered like children, much like earlier that evening.

He wasn’t particularly proud of his younger self, nor his hour-younger self. Jongdae’s parents had always loved Junmyeon, and had never let Jongdae forget this, but, in turn, Junmyeon parents seemed to love Jongdae and, perhaps, they always let Junmyeon know that, as well. They shouldn’t stoop so low as to hurt each other on purpose when they were in the same boat.

Footsteps alerted him of Junmyeon’s return, and he lifted his eyes from the floor. He blinked. Sometime between him leaving to the cafeteria and coming back, the older man had shed his vest, now dressed much like Jongdae with the top two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. He still wore the tie, though, which amused Jongdae.

Clearing his throat, and pulling Jongdae from his thoughts, Junmyeon held out a to-go cup of something. “I brought you a coffee,” he said quietly.

Jongdae accepted the cup and moved to give Junmyeon space to sit down next to him. He held the warm cup between his hands, inwardly cringing. He didn’t particularly enjoy coffee, but…

Sipping the drink, he sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. Junmyeon was quiet by his side, but Jongdae didn’t know how to start a conversation between them. He had never felt the need, or want, to talk with the older man, though he now hated the silence between them. They were being childish.

“Don’t you like coffee?” Junmyeon asked, and Jongdae blinked, turning to face the other.

“Huh?” How did he know?

“You’re grimacing after each sip,” Junmyeon explained with a hesitant smile, before lowering his eyes to his own coffee. “If I’d known you didn’t like coffee, I’d have brought you something else.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Jongdae was quick to assure, shaking his head even if Junmyeon weren’t looking at him. “It’s not that bad. It’s fine.”

Junmyeon snorted when Jongdae swallow a big mouthful to prove his point, only to visibly shudder. Okay, so, maybe he really didn’t like coffee.

“How about we find some tea?” Junmyeon offered, trying to hide his laughter.

Jongdae sighed in relief, dropping the cup in the trashcan beside the bench. “Gladly.”

They took off down the hall, Junmyeon leading the way as he remembered in which direction the cafeteria was. Silence stretched between them once more, only broken by their feet falling on the tiled floor, and it bothered Jongdae, who found himself really wishing it weren’t so awkward between them. It was a funny feeling.

The cafeteria was almost empty, so it took no time to get a tea for Jongdae and something to snack on for both of them. Then they sat at one of the tables, figuring the testing would last for a while yet.

“When I imagined escaping from the party, this wasn’t what I had envisioned,” Jongdae mumbled around a bite of cake, the light laugh from Junmyeon sending a flood of warmth through the younger.

“No,” he mused, eyes glinting with mirth, the corners of his mouth still tugged upwards in a smile, “neither did I. But, alas, here we are. And, honestly, I’m not complaining. The coffee is good, and the cake, and no one here expects us to act a certain way.”

“It’s a relief,” Jongdae agreed.

“To be fair,” Junmyeon said softly, “I admit to thinking it’s impressive that you built your own company, small as it is for now, instead of following the path already carved for you.”

Jongdae shifted in his seat, lifting his gaze to watch the other man closely. “And I think it’s impressive that you worked your way up instead of starting out as CEO, though I’m certain no one would’ve cared much. You are good enough to start at a higher position.”

Junmyeon snorted, though a smile was playing on his lips. “You sure you’re not just saying that because you feel obligated?”

Jongdae stuck out his tongue at the other. “I’m saying it because I mean it. Shut up and take the compliment for what it is.”

With a chuckle, Junmyeon took a bite of his chocolate cake. “Thank you.” He tilted his head, watching Jongdae as he sipped his coffee. “You know, you’re not so bad, Jongdae.”

“You’re not so terrible yourself, either,” Jongdae grinned. “What a surprise.”

Junmyeon snorted, draining the last of his coffee. Jongdae had yet to touch his own tea, so he reached for it.

“Nor are you as stuck-up as I had first thought,” Jongdae continued after a sip, winking at Junmyeon when he pulled a frown.

“And you aren’t as messy, or lazy,” Junmyeon countered.

“Let’s start over,” Jongdae decided, holding out his hand. Junmyeon cocked a brow, watching him with confusion, and Jongdae rolled his eyes. “Shake my hand, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon did as told, finally seeming to understand where Jongdae was heading. “Nice to meet you. I am Kim Junmyeon. My apartment is a mess, and on Sundays I tend to walk around the whole day in pyjamas.”

Jongdae squeezed his hand, laughing. “Kim Jongdae. My secretary will probably kill me one day because of my pranks, and I tend to wear nothing to sleep.”

Junmyeon pulled back with a startled laugh to cover his mouth with his hand, at the same time trying to hide his flushed cheeks. Jongdae snickered, finding Junmyeon’s reaction amusing.

Embarrassing Junmyeon to the point of reddening cheeks and laughter was much better than fighting with him and seeing the hurt on his face at a particularly harsh jab.

“You’re insufferable,” Junmyeon whined, actually whined, and Jongdae’s smile widened.

“Funny. That’s exactly what my secretary tells me daily.”

They returned to the room in which the grandfather was resting later, their mindless chatter coming to a halt when they saw the doctor standing outside the door, writing things down on his notepad. He saw them approach and straightened.

“Kim Jongdae ssi and Kim Junmyeon ssi, I suppose?” At their nod, he smiled. “Kim ssi is as healthy as a horse. The tests showed nothing out of the usual. We have decided to keep Kim ssi overnight, though, for further observations and on his persistence, but he is free to have visitors now. Do you have any questions?”

Jongdae and Junmyeon both shook their heads, so the doctor continued, “If you need anything, you may ask the nurse, and she will page me. Have a good evening.”

The doctor left, and Jongdae knocked on the door, listening for the affirmative before stepping inside. The grandfather was resting in a hospital bed, smiling at them the moment the door was closed behind them.

“How are you?” Junmyeon asked, moving to grab two chairs to place beside the bed. He gestured for Jongdae to sit down before seating himself.

“Oh, never felt better,” the grandfather assured, eyes moving between them curiously. “The party was terribly tedious, was it not? And the guests, I grow so tired of them all, fake smiles and fake faces. The least they could have done was have an open bar for this over-the-top affair, but of course not. Horrible people.”

“Grandfather,” said Junmyeon hesitantly, pursing his lips in disapproval. The grandfather merely grinned back at him.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport, Junmyeon. You appreciate me getting you out there as well, don’t you?”

“Wait,” Jongdae deadpanned, narrowing his eyes, about to continue, but Junmyeon was quicker.

“You did not,” Junmyeon said, aghast. Their reactions only seemed to entertain the old man.

“In my age, you ought to enjoy what you have left of life, and I did not enjoy that poor excuse for a party,” he said. “I was perfectly fine then, and I am perfectly fine now.”

“Did you stage the whole thing?” Jongdae asked in disbelief, throwing Junmyeon a stare when the old man nodded smugly. Junmyeon just blinked back, looking as taken aback as Jongdae felt.

“But do my old eyes deceive me, or am I seeing the two of you getting along?” He laughed. “I knew it! You two make quite the pair. Now, chop chop, I’m getting old. If the two of you were to wed each other, I am certain the party would be one worth attending.”

“What?”

Jongdae and Junmyeon stared at each other, Junmyeon with that red tint to his cheeks (Jongdae suspected he himself might also be a bit more flushed than normally) that Jongdae really liked on him. Clearing his throat, Junmyeon averted his eyes, shifting his weight and wringing his hands.

And Jongdae found himself thinking that, maybe, his mother wouldn’t mind him marrying Junmyeon someday. Maybe.

Besides, Junmyeon’s smile really was brilliant.

... I cannot believe I had to copy the fic from AO3 for it to work here.

Anyway, thanks a bunch for reading! I hope it was to your liking!

Huuuuuge thanks to MegLee06, my beloved beta and nightingale, for helping me with this! I owe her the remaining pieces of my heart <3

If you have questions, ask away and I’ll answer. Also, if you catch any typos neither Meg nor I have caught, or have other forms of constructive critique, please let me know so I can edit and improve my writing! English is not my first language. Also, I really, really love comments <3

I think that's it for this fic. (Shameless self-advertisement: I have a Krisyeol in a vampire setting written and just waiting for the last edits, so if you fancy that pairing and au, be on the lookout!)

Until whenever, lovely readers!