of exes and in-laws
Apartment Block 17
[ADORE U PARK]
“Did you really go to the bathroom?” Junhui cornered Wonwoo as they continued to roam the festival’s crowded roads; Mingyu and Minghao were slightly ahead, arguing about the best way to cook ramen.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo said defensively, suddenly taking an interest in a store selling masks.
“Mingyu got kinda worried,” Junhui continued, “He saw some guys nearby and thought you were scared off--”
“What?” Wonwoo snapped, attention focused on his words. “What guys?”
“Not sure,” Junhui was taken aback by Wonwoo’s insistent tone. “He said he saw a guy who talked to him before. He asked about you apparently.”
“Some guy asked Mingyu about me?” Wonwoo pushed.
“Yeah. What’s going on?” Junhui narrowed his eyes. “They were a group of really loud boys, but they all went away after some other guy... I think I heard them call him ‘Sehun’? Yeah, they all went away... after that,” he used his arms to gesticulate, not knowing exactly how to explain it in Korean.
Wonwoo’s expression darkened for a split second, but he hid it so quickly Junhui wasn’t sure if his eyes were tricking him or not.
“Wonwoo, isn’t that the takoyaki store you were talking about?” Mingyu suddenly dropped back, nudging his roommate excitedly as he pointed to a homely looking stall towards the end of the road.
“Looks like it,” Wonwoo nodded and began heading towards it. “You coming, Jun?”
“Gotta go soon,” Junhui pursed his lips. “You two have fun,” he added with a wink, pulling Minghao to his side and waving at the two.
“Have fun in Japan!” Mingyu bid Junhui goodbye. “Buy me some food.”
“Me too,” Wonwoo put his hand up.
“I’ll charge you,” Junhui snapped sarcastically. “Initial cost, postage, plus a generous tip for all my trouble.”
Mingyu and Wonwoo ended up declining the offer with a synchronised roll of the eyes, and went off on their own to get takoyaki. Junhui was hungry; but he told himself he’d be able to eat all the takoyaki he wanted while in Japan.
“You don’t want takoyaki?” he asked Minghao instead, knowing the boy was probably hungrier than Junhui himself. Minghao’s insatiable appetite was surely a result of his unstoppable growth.
“They certainly won’t pay for me, and I’m not hungry enough to spend money,” Minghao grumbled. Junhui laughed at his pouty expression.
“I wish I could take you to Japan with me,” Junhui sighed, draping his arm lazily around the other as they walked aimlessly through the festival crowd.
“Don’t waste your wish on that,” Minghao smirked, “I’ll enjoy the break from you.”
Junhui let his arm drop as he bent down, scooped up as much snow as he could scrape from the ground and dumped it down the back of Minghao’s coat; which soon escalated into a full on war as they retaliated harder and harder, the scale of their little ‘snow war’ growing by the second as passersby looked on with completely judgemental stares.
“Looks like you’re having fun,” a sweet voice commented in their familiar mother tongue, its owner wearing a mildly amused expression as he watched Minghao and Junhui throwing snow at each other.
Minghao’s blood turned cold; even colder than it already was in the chilly weather; as he took in the sight of a beanie-adorned young male wearing a stylish black coat and mahogany-coloured boots, his button nose tinged red in the cold.
He took Junhui’s hand and attempted to pull him away, but Junhui wouldn’t budge.
“Hey,” Junhui greeted calmly, “We met the other day, didn’t we? Luhan, was it?”
Minghao wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this. Since when did they meet? What the heck am I missing here?
“Yeah. Nice of you to remember me, Junhui,” Luhan replied, equally as calm.
There was a weird shock of electric tension between them; Junhui was staring him down as if he were prey to be hunted, and Luhan was standing his ground with a fierce stubbornness that didn’t seem to match his delicate appearance.
”I just think you two should talk about what happened and find some closure in your relationship.”
“We need to talk,” Minghao blurted out, stepping in front of Junhui protectively.
“I was wondering when you’d finally ask that,” Luhan said, a smirk dancing across his lips.
It all happened in an instant; a brisk walk took them to a rather secluded area near the large bridge stretching from the edge of the park, across the Han River.
It had taken a rather strong glare at Junhui to quell his protective nature and get him to stay put while Minghao talked with Luhan.
Minghao heard familiar laughter nearby in the trees, followed by scuffling in the bushes. Glancing into the dark, he saw the silhouettes of Hansol and Seungkwan, staring at a glaringly bright phone screen as they laughed to themselves.
Minghao had been worried about Seungkwan; but it seemed like he was completely fine, the two roommates whispering in hushed voices, only interrupted by their own irrepressible laughter. Minghao felt relieved that at least one of his friends was getting their life back in order.
“So, what do you want?” Luhan halted and turned to him, his boots disturbing the thin layer of ice.
“Closure,” Minghao muttered, tearing his attention away from Hansol and Seungkwan, who were now making their way back to the bright lights and rowdy noise of the festival. “We left each other on a terrible note. All your fault, of course,” he spat.
“Of course,” Luhan agreed, slightly amused at how snappy Minghao was. “You’ve changed quite a lot, haven’t you?” he commented.
“Yeah, well, a lot of things have happened,” Minghao said with an impatient tone.
Luhan chuckled. “Me included?”
Minghao scoffed. “I’m not even going to answer that. Stop acting so cocky.”
“I’m not. I’m just trying to keep this light,” Luhan said hastily.
“You should’ve done that a year ago,” Minghao retorted roughly.
Luhan sighed and buried his hands in the deep pockets of his coat. “You want closure? How exactly are we supposed to achieve that?”
“First of all; why did you transfer here of all places?” Minghao demanded.
“Relax, it’s not like I stalked you here just to make your life worse,” Luhan sighed. “I have better things to do.”
“Then why?” Minghao retaliated.
“Family issues,” Luhan bit his lip. Minghao remembered him saying he came to Korea for ‘a fresh start’, so he figured it was tied into his claimed familial problems. “I’d rather not say...”
Minghao hated himself, but he felt his senses soften slightly at Luhan’s honest tone. The boy seemed like the kind of person who would bottle up his feelings in order to keep up an easygoing appearance; but Luhan had faltered ever so slightly.
“Alright, I won’t ask,” Minghao relented. “But I want to know what’s up with your ty attitude.”
“Yeah,” Luhan exhaled, breaths short and fast as if he was laughing, but not exactly doing so at the same time, “I wonder that too.”
Minghao narrowed his eyes.
“I really was a , wasn’t I?” Luhan now broke into a humourless laugh. “Sorry about that, Minghao.”
He sounded a tad bit more sincere than his last apology through the aquarium bathroom’s doors - at least he was more agreeable and less harsh this time around.
Though they had classes together, they had been bearable for Minghao due to their focus on group and solo projects and the large number of students, meaning he didn’t have to even come close to Luhan at all.
But the nagging feeling he’d get whenever he caught sight of the brown-haired boy really pissed him off. The fact that Luhan was acting so cooperative all of a sudden rang alarm bells in Minghao’s head.
“What’s your deal?” Minghao snarled. “Don’t try to act like you’re nice all of a sudden when you were such a to me in the past. Act like a now, I don’t care; but I just want the truth. Do you really think homouals are so wrong, just because they love something different to what society says they should love? Just because they’re not normal?”
“Minghao--”
“You completely took advantage of me!” Minghao spat, angry emotions rolling off his tongue as he had longed to do ever since the whole incident occurred. “Was it fun, Luhan? To fool a completely confused teenage boy into thinking he’d found the one, when the entire thing was just some kind of ing game?”
Luhan pressed his lips into a thin line, not saying anything.
“I actually believed in you,” Minghao quieted down. “You really ing confuse me, Luhan.”
“What’s so confusing?” Luhan finally said, voice cracking slightly; whether from the cold or from how soft he was speaking, Minghao couldn’t figure out. “Were my initial words not honest enough for you, Minghao?”
“Did you really mean what you said?” Minghao asked in a small voice. “Was I really nothing to you? Just some ... ‘’ you had a fling with?”
“Minghao...” Luhan’s face swirled with so many different expressions Minghao couldn’t pinpoint a single one. “At the time, I did mean what I said.”
“At the time?” Minghao raised an eyebrow.
“I told you I came here for a fresh start,” Luhan continued hesitantly, “It took me a while, but I’m starting to get there.”
“Starting isn’t good enough,” Minghao snapped.
Luhan laughed coldly. “I never remembered you being this snarky.”
“People change,” Minghao retaliated. “And in my case, I only have Junhui to thank for that. And all of my idiotic friends, but that’s not the point--”
“Then can you believe that I’ll change?” Luhan interrupted.
Minghao opened his mouth, but no sound came out at first. “You’re gonna have to do a complete 360 to change for the better, but I’m not one to put down the infeasible.”
Luhan looked away, his expression confusing Minghao even more; who even was Luhan? One minute, he was a trash-talking, derisive, homophobic , and the next, he gave off the impression of a lost boy desperately trying to find his way in life.
Luhan seemed to contemplate his next words rather carefully. “How about I propose what I suggested a few months ago; why don’t we just agree to stay out of each other’s way and pretend we never knew each other?”
Minghao rolled his eyes. “No. I’d rather just call a truce,” he said, boldly sticking his hand out. Whatever tumbled out of his mouth next was unfiltered, but he knew it needed to be said. “As much as I hate your guts for what you did to me, you were really fun to be with in that week. But don’t misunderstand; I’m not forgiving you in any shape or form. I’m just sick of this thing we have going on, and it’s affecting my relationship with Junhui. All I want is just to move on completely, and not have this grudge hanging over my head for the rest of my life. I hate seeing you around Pledis and thinking I have to avoid you, or something.”
Luhan took his hand tentatively and looked Minghao in the eye. “I can come to terms with that,” he said, strangely agreeable. “You won’t accept my apology, so I won’t even try. I’m just... confused about myself, to be honest.”
Minghao’s stern expression faltered as he stared down at Luhan; it was strange, considering he had been the shorter one back when they were so-called ‘dating’.
“I’ll... talk to you some other time,” Luhan said, his usual snark returning slightly. His lost expression struck something in Minghao; it was an expression that mirrored every turmoil he had felt going through the acceptance that yes, he loved boys, and he was okay with that.
Whatever Luhan seemed to be going through, Minghao decided he was too tired to care anymore. They’d talked, somewhat, and though all that had come out of it was a half-assed truce and more confusion, he was satisfied.
They parted awkwardly, but not nearly with the amount of hate spitting at each other as all their previous partings.
Junhui wasn’t satisfied, though.
“From what you’re saying, you barely got any information out of him, yet alone any proper closure,” Junhui insisted. They’d met back at the gates after a brief phone call, and Minghao had told him everything that happened.
“Jun,” Minghao sighed, his tone leaning towards a whine, “We’ll never be fully alright. I’m okay with that; this is the best I’ll ever get. We’re on reasonably agreeable terms and I’m at peace.”
Junhui didn’t seem to believe him; but time was running out, as he realised he had to be at the airport in half an hour.
They pushed through the crowd and made it back to Apartment Block 17 in record time, hurrying up to their apartment to get Junhui’s bags while he pushed for information on the conversation with Luhan.
“It doesn’t add up... Why would he even pretend to date you if he’s so homophobic? Like, even as a joke?” Junhui frowned.
“Beats me. I don’t care anymore; we’ve talked about it and I never want to see him again,” Minghao asserted, shutting down the topic for good. Junhui knew better than to argue with Minghao when he spoke with that kind of forceful tone; though he certainly wasn’t contented.
But since Minghao insisted he was fine, Junhui chose to believe him and drop the topic. He was just relieved that Minghao managed to talk to Luhan about their relationship without throwing a punch like he probably wanted to.
They hurried out of the apartment block with Junhui’s luggage in tow (Minghao insisted he didn’t need that many clothes for a week-long trip, but Junhui was Junhui). Thanks to Seoul’s high-density population and demand for quick transport, they managed to hail a Fast Pace Taxi to the airport without much wait.
The ride had been reasonably pleasant, filled with light conversation that should’ve been awkward, but wasn’t, thanks to the friendly nature of their driver; a mid-20’s male named Kyungsoo, with short black hair and thick, on-fleek eyebrows. Minghao was tempted to ask him to keep in contact, but as soon as he unloaded Junhui’s luggage from the trunk, he drove off promptly.
Rushing inside the bustling airport, Junhui managed to get checked in on time despite the long line.
He hugged Minghao tightly before heading through security, feeling dizzy that so much had happened in the past hour alone; and now, he was heading off to Japan to film a television drama. Life felt surreal.
“Try not to miss me too much,” Junhui smirked, vocal chords vibrating against Minghao’s neck.
“Try not to die in Japan,” Minghao snapped back. “And remember to buy me that Tokyo Banana thing everyone tells me about.”
Junhui laughed and broke apart, his eyes crinkling in a fond expression as he looked at the boy he would die for. Minghao had truly grown a lot since the two of them met; it wasn’t like he was gaining much weight, rather, he just kept shooting up like a bamboo tree. Junhui wasn’t sure how he’d feel once Minghao was taller than him; looking upwards at the person you wanted to protect the most in the world was an alien feeling to him.
“No promises,” Junhui stuck his tongue out slightly in a playful expression. With a weird saluting gesture and his trademark smirk, he readjusted his backpack and walked off to the departure hall.
“Call me when you get there!” Minghao called out impulsively.
Junhui merely grinned. “See you later, Hao.”
-------------
[HEALING HOSPITAL]
“Jisoo, your parents are here to see you,” his doctor said, poking her head through the door. It was a few days into the New Year, and Jisoo’s parents had finally managed to take leave from work to fly over for a short visit.
Jeonghan’s eyes widened and he released his grip on Jisoo’s hands immediately, clearing the bed of the takeout Seokmin had brought them earlier. He turned his body stiffly towards the door.
Jisoo’s parents were a lot shorter than Jeonghan imagined. His father was about Jisoo’s height, his greying hair still darker than his son’s dyed-brown. Jeonghan could see Jisoo’s kind and gentle nature in his father’s weathered face.
Jisoo definitely took after his mother more, appearance-wise; her doe-like eyes, a hint of cat-like sharpness pinching the edges and milky white skin were identical to that of her son’s. She looked fresh and young, as sweet as honey milk tea. She was so short and cute, almost drowning in an oversized coat that was probably her husband’s.
Jisoo greeted his parents enthusiastically; he hadn’t seen them in person since he moved to Seoul nearly four years ago. Tickets were far too expensive and they were reasonably content with a daily phone or Skype call.
Jeonghan stood up awkwardly, allowing Jisoo’s parents to approach their son, stiffly bowing and receiving a slight look of acknowledgement from them both. But for the moment, they were far more interested in greeting their son.
The room became filled with coos and exclamations at how much Jisoo had grown, how handsome he’d become, and concern over his injuries; the little things that weren’t very obvious through a screen.
“Jeonghan!” Jisoo’s mother finally turned to him, having doted on Jisoo enough for the moment. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met in person.”
Jeonghan laughed nervously and took her hand hesitantly, holding it as if it would shatter upon impact. “That’s true... it’s nice to finally meet you two,” he said as politely as he could; his voice raising up nearly an octave due to his uneasiness.
Jisoo’s father smiled warmly and slapped Jeonghan’s back. He wasn’t expecting such a greeting and nearly choked on his own spit.
“Don’t be so stiff,” Jisoo’s father said with a chuckle; a real ‘dad’ kind of chuckle. “If Jisoo loves you, then we will too. We wouldn’t to have an awkward relationship with our son-in-law.”
“S-son-in-law?” Jeonghan choked.
Jisoo started laughing at Jeonghan’s shocked expression. His parents laughed with him and Jeonghan wondered how close they were to be able to talk so comfortably like this.
“That’s a discussion for another time,” Jisoo’s mother said hurriedly, trying to quell Jeonghan’s fearful eyes which were darting across the room from Jisoo, to his parents, to the potted plant sitting innocently in the corner of the room.
“Did you hear the good news?” Jisoo said excitedly, sitting up in his bed. “You came just on time. I’m being discharged today!”
“Yes, your doctor told us,” his father smiled. “You’ve healed quite quickly; as expected of my son.”
“Healing isn’t a competition, Dad,” Jisoo laughed. “I just got lucky.”
Several minutes of comfortable conversation passed between the Hong family, having been deprived of face-to-face conversation for years. Jeonghan stood awkwardly in the corner, winding his fingers together nervously; discovering that he was likely double-jointed in the process.
The doctor soon came in and helped Jisoo out of bed and fitted him with crutches; he had fractured his lower leg and would have to deal with a cast for up to two months.
“Your son’s a lucky one,” the doctor said as they made their way down to the reception, Jisoo struggling initially with his crutches but getting the hang of it rather quickly. Jeonghan offered an arm, but Jisoo stubbornly insisted he would be fine, likely not wanting to trouble anyone. “Aside from his leg, he got away with minor bruising around his chest, neck and head. A week of bed rest and he’ll be fine; the cast should come off in two months as well.”
“Thank you so much,” Jisoo’s mother thanked the doctor profusely, his father also nodding in gratefulness.
“Your son’s in good hands, too,” the doctor said, looking rather shyly at Jeonghan, having experienced first-hand how intimate their relationship was.
With his captivating, other-worldly beauty; his most notable feature being his long, luscious hair; there was no doubt the doctor was lowkey infatuated with surface-level Jeonghan.
But of course, not many could truly handle Jeonghan on a deeper level; Seungcheol had been first, having known him since middle school, and Jisoo had come right after, worming his way into Jeonghan’s heart with his incredibly irresistible smile and ridiculously stupid jokes and acrostic poems. But then came Soonyoung, Jihoon, and then Junhui and Wonwoo, and many others in the short space of the past few months, proving that there really were other people out there you could come to understand and love.
So Jeonghan felt that the doctor’s statement was void; 1. he wasn’t nearly as angelic as he may have appeared on a surface level, and 2. Jisoo’s wellbeing was in no way dependant on him. If anything, it was Jeonghan who was in good hands.
Jeonghan didn’t know what his life would be without Jisoo. While he had always been surrounded by supportive family and friends, no one understood him better than the boy with doe-like eyes and a smile so gentle yet so dangerous Jeonghan fell under its spell every time.
The four of them decided to go out for late dinner at a place Jeonghan and Jisoo often frequented— a walk-in restaurant with a soft ambience, pastel wallpaper, vintage decor and fairy lights blending together in what could only be described as ‘tumblr aesthetic’. Back when Jisoo had been obsessed with Tumblr; the reason he met Jeonghan in the first place; his blog had revolved around the very aesthetics this restaurant seemed to embody on a physical level.
Jeonghan still remembered the first time he worked up the courage to send Jisoo a Tumblr message; a flurry of fanboy screeches, filled with unnecessary capitalisation and typos galore. That was back when Jeonghan didn’t even know his name; all he knew was that the pastel blog with the URL aestheticsoo was owned by an incredibly charismatic individual with a great taste in music.
It was almost a ‘senpai noticed me’ moment when Jisoo replied in an equally excitable fashion; replying to every one of Jeonghan’s comments and adding a superfluous amount of emojis that made Jeonghan unsure if he was flirting or just being friendly.
Jeonghan liked to believe that Jisoo was flirting from the start. (As of yet, he had never found the right moment to ask).
Jisoo began speaking to his parents in English, leaving Jeonghan at a loss. He caught his name a couple of times and nudged Jisoo curiously.
“What’s happening?” Jeonghan asked quietly when Jisoo turned to him.
“They were asking if you could invite your parents,” Jisoo said lowly. “Uh--,” he coughed, “My mum wants to meet your parents.”
Jeonghan blanched and laughed nervously; he loved his parents, but they could be extremely embarrassing.
But seeing the eager faces of Jisoo’s parents, he couldn’t refuse their request.
-------------
After signing papers for Jisoo’s medical bill, Jisoo’s parents drove them all to the restaurant with help from Google Maps and a car they had rented upon arriving in Seoul. They managed to get seats in the already crowded establishment; Jisoo’s parents asking for a table for six and insisting that it was their treat.
“My parents should be free now,” Jeonghan said, taking out his phone, “I’m sure they’ll be able to come over.”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Jisoo’s mother smiled, “We’re not in Seoul for long, so it would be a good opportunity to meet them while we can.”
Jeonghan’s parents ended up showing up just as their food arrived; he was surprised to see a familiar, slim girl following behind meekly as they approached the table.
“Mum, Dad... Tzuyu!” Jeonghan stood up, greeting his parents and embracing his younger sister, who he hadn’t seen in months since she took up a modelling gig in Taiwan last year. “I didn’t know you were in Seoul!”
“Jeonghan!” she smiled. Jisoo had only met Jeonghan’s younger sister a few times, and he never failed to be entranced by her beauty. Her doll-like features were so similar to Jeonghan’s that it creeped Jisoo out at first; whenever they smiled, their teeth would bare wide, eyes scrunching up cutely and eyebrows raising, and side-by-side, they could’ve easily been mistaken as twins.
“I’ve got a couple of jobs here, so I’ll be in Korea for a while,” she continued, releasing her brother’s embrace as they were drawing unwanted attention from others in the restaurant. “Sorry I forgot to tell you,” she laughed bashfully, “I only got back a few days ago.”
A flurry of introductions and awkward half-bows followed, as the parents-in-law greeted each other warmly after the Yoon siblings’ reunion.
They managed to squeeze Tzuyu onto the end of the table, discreetly dragging a chair over from a vacant neighbouring one. Jisoo’s parents gushed over how tall and pretty she was; Jisoo always felt like his parents had wanted a girl in the family, though they always insisted he was all they ever needed.
The newly arrived Yoon family ordered their food after a short discussion on what was good, and though Jeonghan’s food had already arrived, he was halted by Jisoo who proceeded to take 500 different photos of his meal at every angle possible.
Jeonghan sighed. He wished Jisoo’s passion for a good Instagram shot wouldn’t always interrupt his meal; but watching the boy grinning happily as he slid through filter after filter made up for the hungry wait.
The atmosphere soon fell into casual conversation; Jeonghan asking Jisoo’s parents about America, Jisoo teaching them all some random English phrases, Tzuyu talking about the people she met in Taiwan and Jeonghan’s parents relaying some long-buried-and-forgotten tales about baby Jeonghan.
Jeonghan wasn’t sure how Jisoo maintained his composure around his parents and their embarrassing questions; especially when in their relationship, Jisoo was the one who was more easily flustered and embarrassed.
Jeonghan hurriedly finished his meal before his parents could find his baby photos in their phones. As a result, he was the first one done; his parents and sister, who had only just gotten their meals were only just cutting into their slabs of steak.
“Well, that was a fun reunion, but I think Jisoo would want to be getting back home to rest,” Jeonghan smiled politely, a warning sign in his eyes as he willed his parents to drop the baby anecdotes.
“Of course,” Jeonghan’s mother smiled, patting Jisoo on the back. “But at least stay until we finish so we can help you get home. We can drive you.”
“That’s fine,” Jisoo’s father insisted; the four parents had already become closely acquainted, somehow managing to bond over childhood stories and their mutual love for classical music. “We drove here from the hospital, so we’ll be able to bring Jisoo and Jeonghan home safely.”
Since Jeonghan’s parents were born, raised, and still resided in Seoul, they often came to visit their son and Jisoo, sometimes more than five times a month. Though their visits were short since their jobs were quite demanding, they still managed to build up a bond with Jisoo over the years.
Jeonghan hoped he would become that close with Jisoo’s parents; especially after they proposed moving to from Los Angeles to Seoul so they could be closer to their son (and ‘to-be husband’, an innocent comment resulting in a flustered Jeonghan and a giggling Tzuyu).
As a thank you gift, the restaurant would give you gorgeous, Tumblresque flower crowns to wear and take an optional polaroid as you left.
Jeonghan felt a rush of nostalgia as a waitress placed a crown laced with pale white and pink flowers on Jisoo’s fluffy hair; reminiscent of Jisoo’s selca days on his Tumblr.
The first time Jeonghan saw Jisoo’s face was when he stalked the aestheticsoo about me section. At first, all he saw was a pretty Tumblr boy, smiling cutely with flowers threaded through his pitch black hair, a faded pastel filter complementing the lighting of the shot perfectly.
Scrolling further, he had caught sight of more stylish shots, all earth-coloured coats and pink lips, coupled with muted backdrops and vintage memorabilia. Jisoo was the definition of aesthetic; it only took approximately 4.54 photos for Jeonghan to fall in love.
Not to mention, the boy could play guitar and had honey-soft vocals to top it all off. Jeonghan had listened to aestheticsoo’s rearrangement of ‘Later Later’ at least 150 times, finding something new to appreciate with each listen.
Present day Jisoo was even more exquisite, his already pretty features gradually evolving into something so much more as he aged; a sight Jeonghan could sketch blindfolded, yet never fail to find something new to cherish in every moment his eyes roamed, pupils dilating as he took in as much of Jisoo as he possibly could.
“Jeonghan?” Jisoo stared at his zoned-out boyfriend with a quizzical expression. Jeonghan felt something tickle his forehead. Jisoo reached around his neck, gathering his long locks and bringing them over his shoulder, his hands positioned over Jeonghan’s chest as if he were tying a tie. Jeonghan loved it when Jisoo played with his hair.
“Let’s take a picture,” Jisoo smiled, gently Jeonghan’s hair into place one last time before turning towards the waitress holding a pink polaroid camera.
Jeonghan was an artist; and definitely knew how to appreciate the work of art that was Hong Jisoo.
With every moment, he felt himself falling deeper for the boy with an irresistible smile and terrible jokes and wondered how he ever got lucky enough to stumble upon his Tumblr blog.
“Say cheese!”
Click. +1 to memories with Hong Jisoo.
------------
The car ride back as far louder than the ride to the restaurant, Jeonghan confidently arguing with Jisoo’s parents that kimchi was a necessity to life;
“I personally hate the smell of kimchi,” Jisoo’s father admitted as he nearly ran a red light, braking just in time, inertia causing Jisoo and Jeonghan to collide with the front seats.
Jeonghan’s family had bid their goodbyes after dinner, Tzuyu rushing off to meet a friend and his parents returning home with full bellies. Jeonghan had never seen such a ruckus over who would pay for the food; they ended up splitting it half-half amongst the two families (Jeonghan himself was just glad that his meal was paid for by someone else).
He was back in bed now, his favourite place in the world, with Jisoo, his favourite person in the world, wrapped around his waist. Jisoo’s parents had gone back to their hotel following a short apartment tour;
”This place is bigger than it looked over Skype! I’m glad you’re getting what you pay for,” Jisoo’s mother gushed, trailing her hand along the smooth marble-top counter.
“Honey, let’s move into this apartment block if we come to Seoul,” his father gave Jisoo a sideways look that Jeonghan could only describe as a smirk.
“There aren’t any vacant apartments,” Jisoo protested, mortified. Apartment Block 17 was inhabited primarily by teenage students, though some university graduates also resided in the upper floors. But Jeonghan had never seen parent-age adults around the building.
“Just joking,” Jisoo’s father ruffled his hair and laughed at Jisoo’s look of exasperation. “We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your happy time.”
Jeonghan shuddered as he remembered what had happened directly after; Jisoo’s parents had pulled him aside as Jisoo showered (insisting he could handle the cast himself) and given him ‘the talk’;
”Jeonghan,” Jisoo’s mother smiled, her expression homely and motherly. But the playful glint in her eyes and the grip of her hand on his shoulder alarmed him. He could see where Jisoo got his hidden intimidating nature from.
Jisoo really was the only person who could see right past Jeonghan’s physical body and pick apart everything he was made of, both spiritually and mentally. In a sense, it gave him a dominant role at times; and Jeonghan, who was a rather competitive person, wasn’t sure why he liked it so much.
Seungcheol came a close second, having been Jeonghan’s friend since youth and Jisoo’s friend since he moved in; but Seungcheol was Seungcheol, and Jeonghan had him wrapped around his finger, though the two of them jokingly argued often (with Jisoo being forced to play mediator more often than he liked).
“We want to trust you with our son,” Jisoo’s mother continued, sitting down on the couch slowly next to her husband and gesturing for Jeonghan to do the same. It was his apartment though, so it felt really weird. “It’s hard for us to live so far away from him, but you make him happy, so we’re okay with that.”
“Thanks,” Jeonghan smiled reassuringly, glad that Jisoo’s parents seemed to approve of him.
“But, uh--” Jisoo’s father coughed slightly, “We just want to make sure that if you two are doing certain things...”
Jeonghan could feel the room temperature rise ten degrees, the air hanging awkwardly and choking up his trachea.
“We’re just concerned about whether you know what you’re doing--” Jisoo’s mother said hurriedly.
“And if you’re using the right protection--” Jisoo’s father interjected.
Jeonghan sat forward on the couch and waved his hands frantically. “Y-yeah, it’s all fine!” he spouted. “Uh... Jisoo... knows what he’s doing...”
“I know what?” Jisoo hobbled out, struggling with one crutch under his right armpit while his left hand attempted to dry his wet hair with a towel.
Jeonghan stood up hastily and helped him walk to the couch, his parents looking away sheepishly, thus ending the conversation.
“You okay?” Jisoo laughed, observing Jeonghan’s disgusted expression.
“Bad memories,” Jeonghan cringed comically. Jisoo gave him a quizzical look, his eyebrows and hair all fluffy and mussed up it was unfair, and buried himself back into Jeonghan’s chest.
In the stillness that followed, Jeonghan decided to reminisce and ask the questions he never found the time to ask throughout the years they’d known each other.
“Jisoo,” he said softly, voice muffled by Jisoo’s hair. Jisoo hummed in response.
“Can I ask you something?” Jeonghan continued, threading his hand through Jisoo’s soft, fluffy locks.
“You just did,” Jisoo said with a weak laugh, already anticipating the chest slap from Jeonghan.
“What was your first impression of me when you read my message on Tumblr?” Jeonghan blurted out before he could overthink the question.
Jisoo’s cheeks was instantly dusted in a soft pink as blood rushed to his face; he didn’t expect such a randomly abrupt question. His reply sounded rather hesitant as a result; “I thought you were really cute.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “Go on.”
Jisoo contemplated flattering Jeonghan into dropping the subject, but figured he might as well reply honestly to minimise any possible damage that would be inflicted on him if Jeonghan caught out his lie.
“I... thought you were a girl at first,” Jisoo admitted quietly. “Even before I saw your face!” he added hurriedly, not letting Jeonghan get a word in, “Most of the people who talked to me on Tumblr were teenage girls, so I kind of assumed--”
Jeonghan started laughing. “So what, were you straight?”
“I-I guess?” Jisoo stuttered, “Not that I ever had a preference...”
“Did I make you realise how much of a raging homoual you are?” Jeonghan teased, poking Jisoo’s stomach.
“It sounds weird if you put it that way...” Jisoo protested, but gave up struggling in favour of relaxing in Jeonghan’s cushiony arms.
Silence fell upon them, the only sounds being their slow, deep breaths and Jeonghan scratching his leg under the blanket.
After a comfortable while of quiet, during which Jisoo nearly fell asleep, Jeonghan continued his interrogation with a soft, but curious voice; “Did you flirt with me from the start?”
“Yeah,” Jisoo laughed gently, “It’s not everyday someone tells me they’ve made a shrine in honour of my Tumblr blog. You intrigued me.”
“Your blog was that good, okay?” Jeonghan sighed, sinking further down into the covers and forcing Jisoo to reposition himself. “As an aspiring artist, people like you motivated me.”
“Maybe I’ll get back to it one day,” Jisoo smiled, “Just for you.”
“Nah,” Jeonghan breathed out heavily, tickling Jisoo’s neck. “I don’t want anyone else to be able to appreciate your beauty.”
“But I just reblogged stuff half the time,” Jisoo pointed out, tilting his head closer to Jeonghan in an attempt to get more comfortable.
“Your beauty shines through with every reblog,” Jeonghan made a weird gesturing motion with his arm, as if his movements captured the aesthetics of Hong Jisoo.
Jisoo felt himself falling, yet again, as he did in every single second he was with Yoon Jeonghan.
“But you’re far more beautiful.”
[a/n]
so .. the lowkey luhan plotline isn’t over so don’t forget about it just yet lol
(i felt so lost writing that part; i have no idea what i did and ill probably change it later -- but i’ll resolve it completely in the next few chapters;)
an idea that started off as ‘jeonghan meets jisoo’s parents’ ended up being a 3000 word rant on how beautiful hong jisoo is [ft. an equally beautiful yoon jeonghan]
sorry not sorry (--STAN JISOO--)
anyway hope u have a great day and thank you for reading!! :D
hmu on snapchat --@wingyis ;)
also; question !!
which female idols do you ship seungcheol with?? xD
(its not gonna be a romance storyline but it’s... something... so pls help me^^)
next time: finally meanie performs the play o m g (this is long overdue im sorry lmao)
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