No one is quite sure what to expect from Jeonghan. In fact, Jihoon is surprised Seungkwan didn't toss another shoe. Probably because he actually values his life.

After an awkward shuffle away from the door, an ice pack for Seungcheol's head and some insincere pleasantries, everyone is gathered in a strange assembley. Jihoon is sandwiched between Hansol and Soonyoung on the couch, Seungkwan standing (read: forcibly being held back by Seokmin) in the doorway due to the newly established safe distance between him and Seungcheol, who is now awake and groaning into a throw pillow. Next to him is Jeonghan, grimacing slightly at his frien- no, boyfriend's behaviour. No one is quite sure what to say, and even when the basketball captain lifts his head to reveal a red Nike shaped imprint Jihoon can't find it in himself to muster up a laugh.

Jeonghan, oddly enough, is the one to break the silence.

"So," he begins, sitting rather stiffly on the beanbag opposite Jihoon, "I think it's about time we talked this through. Properly." He adds when Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest. Turning to Seungcheol, Jeonghan nudges the boy's shoulder. "This idiot owes you an explanation." Seungcheol makes a whine in protest but it goes ignored as Jeonghan sighs and heaves himself onto his feet.

"It'd be better if I wasn't here for this. I only came to make sure he didn't chicken out of coming here and, well-" He glanced at Seungkwan. "I didn't take certain other factors into account.” He gives Jihoon a small smile before leaving, and the younger boy isn’t entirely sure whether or not it’s malicious. With Jeonghan it’s impossible to tell.

All eyes turn to Seungcheol and naturally Seungkwan is the first to turn accusatory. Jihoon can just say he beat him to it later.

“So? We’re all standing around here like it’s a damn funeral, so hurry up and explain yourself you lying piece of-“ A hand muffles the rest of Seungkwan’s words as Seokmin chuckles nervously. Jihoon just sighs as he looks at the boy across from him. After all the heartache he’s been through, he’s ready for all of this to be over already. Seungcheol is sprawled across Soonyoung’s frayed old beanbag, hair askew and throw pillow hugged to his chest. He looks forlorn, guilty almost, but Jihoon doesn’t really feel like forgiveness right now. He’s had enough.

“Do me a favour, Seungcheol, and just tell me one thing.”

“Why is everyone still talking about Mingyu’s party