Junmyeon comes home late drunk again, but this time he’s alone—

And crying.

Jongdae sits on the counter scrolling through his Twitter feed with one hand while munching on a slice of watermelon held by the other when Junmyeon rounds the corner of the entryway. Jongdae only spares a glance of acknowledgment, thus missing the sight of his roommate with tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes, before he focuses back on his phone.

“Where’s Bora?” Jongdae asks, nonchalantly. He was used to the two stumbling home drunk together.

Junmyeon keeps his head low and doesn’t answer. He leans against the pillar as he tries to take his shoes off without capsizing over. When he finally accomplishes the nearly impossible-whilst-intoxicated feat., he leaves them upside down and crumpling the others which Jongdae will have to straighten out later on. Again .

“I don’t know if you ate while you were out, but if you’re still hungry, I left a plate in the fridge. I can heat it up if you want. Just let me know.”

Anger boils inside of Junmyeon.

“Am I not worth at least a little eye contact when you speak to me?”

Jongdae looks up from his phone slowly and sets the fruit down. “What?”

Junmyeon must really be drunk because he can smell the liquor from across the room. Hard liquor. The cheap stuff.

“Junmyeon, you should go shower and go to bed, man, you look like you got beat up in a booze bar. Why the hell did you drink so much? And on a weekday?” The weekend’s right around the corner-”

“Shut up! Nobody asked you!”

Junmyeon throws his suitcase across the room and it bursts like a pinata when it connects with the balcony window. Papers and pens fly out instead of candy. Jongdae jumps down.

“What the hell, Junmyeon? Are you out of your mind?”

Junmyeon lurches forward and grabbing Jongdae by the collar. Jongdae winces, expecting a blow to a face, but it never comes. When he peaks one eye open, he finds Junmyeon breaking down and using his shirt as kleenex. Jongdae is lost.

“Um… hey, buddy, are you good?”

Junmyeon continues to sob on him. Loud . His drunken weight sends them stumbling back some, and the counter’s edge jabs Jongdae in the back. It takes a little bit of maneuvering (and a whole lot of strength) for Jongade to pry Junmyeon’s fingers off himself and lead him back towards the rooms. He pushes Junmyeon (perhaps with a bit too much strength) on his bed and exhales when he can finally breathe unrestricted again.

“She doesn’t- she can’t-”

Junmyeon rolls back and forth on the bed, shaking his head, whining, and mumbling about a conversation only he can hear. As he undresses him, Jongdae’s nodding, agreements, and reassurances to the problem he has zero information on is convincing.

“You’re gonna be alright, Junmyeon.”

After pulling off the last article of clothing he’s willing to touch on Junmyeon’s body (he doesn’t touch his trousers), he gathers all the clothes up into a ball. He turns to leave the room when a pair of arms slip their way around his navel.

“No, don’t go, I’m sorry! I can do better. I can be a better man. I won’t let you down, anymore. I’ll work harder! Please, don’t leave me. I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”

Jongdae wants to scream, but he holds it in… until Junmyeon starts kissing his neck! Gross!

“Let me go, Junmyeon!” Jongdae shoves his elbow back and Junmyeon nearly doubles over, but his embrace tightens.

“No, I’m not letting you go. You’re mine! I love you!”

Jongdae converts the remaining watermelon nutrients in his stomach into energy and powers up. He breaks out of Junmyeon’s embrace and pushes him again, but Junmyeon clings onto his arm. Junmyeon reaches in his pocket quickly, and before Jongdae can connect two and two, Junmyeon slides a ring onto his finger.

“W-what are you doing, Junmyeon? Stop being weird!”

Junmyeon grabs his face and plays with his cheeks like dough. “I’m sorry I waited so long, but I just wanted to make sure I loved you. And now I know—I do love you.”

Jongdae swats his hands away, but Junmyeon brings them back.

“This ring means you accept my love. It means you can’t refuse me anymore,” Junmyeon says, before smashing their lips together. Jongdae short-circuits until his brain reboots seconds later, and he finally pulls away.

He slaps Junmyeon, apparently hard because the momentum is enough to send him stumbling back. He falls against the bed again, and Jongdae keeps his throbbing hand raised, ready to deliver another blow in case the drunkard makes another move. Thankfully, he doesn’t.

“What the-” Jongdae tries prying the ring off, but it won’t budge. It feels like his finger will pop off before it does, so he gives up. “You ,” Jongdae grumbles before leaving the man writhing in his sheets.

***

Junmyeon’s alarm is the danger alert siren his hangover brain really needs at ten in the morning . Another notification sounds and Junmyeon reaches around lazily for his phone until he finds it. It’s a text from Jongdae that reads, ’ Get the hell up. Don’t oversleep for work. . ’

Junmyeon frowns, wondering where the hostility came from.

After five more minutes of snooze, he reluctantly gets up and trudges to the bathroom. When he’s finally all dressed and ready-to-go nearly thirty minutes later, he trips over a tiny, black box. He picks it up and after opening it, his heart nearly stops.

“My ring!”

He looks everywhere for it. He turns his bed upside down, tears through his medicine cabinets in his bathroom, lifts up the couches in his living room twice, to no avail.

“Where is it?” Junmyeon growls. He calls Jongdae, but he doesn’t pick up. He’s probably still in class, Junmyeon figures. He calls into work citing an emergency and heads out to retrace his steps from the day before.

***

Jongdae forgets all about the ring between washing and drying Junmyeon’s clothes, fixing Junmyeon’s shoes, picking up and reorganizing Junmyeon’s scattered papers, waking up late, rushing to get ready, and almost missing his bus to university. On top of that, his professor is actually on time for once and kicks off class on the dot. He can’t catch a break until his professor dismisses classes early.

Jongdae’s friend, Baekhyun, plops down in the seat next to him as he packs up. Usually, they sit together in the front whenever they have class, but Jongdae had been running so late that morning he had to settle for a seat in the back.

“You’re almost never this chaotic, my precious Virgo. Wild night?” Baekhyun suggests with a wink.

Jongdae covers his face and sighs. “I don’t even want to think about last night, it was so-”

“Oh my God, is that a ring? Oh my God, did you get engaged?!”

Baekhyun’s exclamation is heard by pretty much the entire lecture hall, and it seems like everyone must have been taking their sweet time to leave today since there are more than a dozen or so pairs of eyes staring at them! Jongdae wants to disappear.

“Shut up , Baekhyun. You’re too loud,” Jongdae says through gritted teeth. He smiles at the girls who shout congratulations to him and whisper amongst their friends just how cute and lucky he is .

Before Baekhyun and his big mouth can say anything else, Jongdae drags them outside.

“I didn’t even know you were dating anybody,” Baekhyun starts back up as soon as the sky is above them. “Who’s the lucky dude?”

“There is no dude.”

“Dudette?”

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae stops walking and Baekhyun mimics the action, albeit hesitant.

“Uh… is there another-”

“I’m not engaged, Baekhyun. This isn’t my ring!”

Baekhyun’s face is blank as he takes in the statement. “Ah, I see...” After a moment of silence and resuming their walk, he continues. “Then why are you wearing it?”

“I didn’t put it on, Junmyeon did, and-”

“Junmyeon, as in your roommate--”

“--yeah, my roommate, and I can’t take it off because it’s stuck! See?”

Jongdae tugs on the ring again. It comes right off.

He looks to Baekhyun like a child who’s just broken something and is checking to see if he was caught. Baekhyun’s smile is pretty and hides his skepticism well.

“Look’s like it’s off now, right?” he says with a small, patronizing chuckle.

“But I-” Jongdae examines the ring and his finger like a wild specimen. “I tried taking it off all night; I thought my finger was going to break off! How-”

“Who knows! Fingers are weird,” Baekhyun interrupts with a shrug. “What I want to know is why did your roommate slip an engagement ring on your finger? I mean, I knew you guys were close, but I didn’t know you two were that close.”

The insinuation doesn’t go over Jongade’s head, though he chooses not to address it to save the headache.

“He was drunk last night and thought I was his girlfriend,” Jongdae explains, though there’s a hint of disbelief even in his own voice. “Like, I guess his girlfriend broke up with him or something. He was angry at me, then crying on me, then holding onto me, and telling me not to leave him. Then he slipped the ring on and even ki-”

Jongdae finishes the rest quickly. “-And yeah, he was just basically really all over the place last night.”

“And he even what ?” Baekhyun, sly as ever, never misses a thing. “ Kicked you? We know he didn’t kill you? Kidnap doesn’t seem to be the right word either. Perhaps, kiss- ”

“Okay, he kissed me, too! He even kissed me! There it is, out there in the open! I’m not ashamed whatsoever! ”

Baekhyun looks like he’s in a competition to see who laughs last and he’s watching that video with the vibrating pineapple seed dancing along with that girl group APRIL. Before Jongdae gets a chance to ask him what the hell is so funny, he hears a familiar voice.

“Who kissed you?”

Jongdae whips around and sees Junmyeon, dressed to the nines, leaning against his black Lamborghini. The sight of the luxury car on campus is responsible for most of the aghast mouths from passersby, but Junmyeon’s appearance in and of itself is what has Jongade’s mouth gaping.

“W-what are you doing here, Junmyeon?”

(Jongdae finally hears Baekhyun laughing behind him.)

Junmyeon scoffs at the question as if the answer were obvious. “I’m here to pick you up, what else? Your class is over right?”

Jongdae’s mind was too occupied by other things to answer, such as why a group of college kids had gathered around them. They were making this a scene ! Did they not have any other classes or jobs or social events that needed rushing to? Apparently not.

(“Is that his fiance?”)

(“OMG, his fiance is cute! Wow, he’s so lucky!”)

(“AND he’s rich? Who’d he save in his past life to score this jackpot?”)

Jongdae hears the chatter. No doubt Baekhyun hears it if his obnoxious laughter were anything to go by. So, certainly (and most of all, unfortunately) Junmyeon must hear the chatter, too.

“Why do they think I’m your fiance, Jongdae?”

Junmyeon says it quietly, but the words are drenched in an indisputable coating.

“Junmyeon, I-”

“Have you seen my engagement ring, Jongdae?”

Jongdae holds out his arm. He opens his palm slowly. The engagement ring reflects a tiny beam of light right into his eye.

Junmyeon’s face remains neutral to the people onlooking, but to Jongdae his expression is a few shades darker.

“Get in the car.”

Jongdae turns to Baekhyun who’s stopped laughing. He gives Jongdae two thumbs up and a shaky smile that only means one thing to Jongdae:

If you need help, call the police, not me!

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “Bye, Baekhyun.”

The car ride home is painfully quiet, even more so because Junmyeon is religiously against the commercialized radio so there’s no background filler to this tension. Just Junmyeon’s controlled breathing and the beating of his fingertips against his pants leg.

Junmyeon waits until they’ve entered the house to lose his cool.

He tosses his suit jacket on a bar stool and rolls up his sleeves. Jongdae has the faintest fear that Junmyeon’s going to beat him up despite knowing the older man can barely kill a spider without passing out. He rests against the same counter he had pushed Jongdae’s back into the last night while Jongdae stands awkwardly in the entryway, feeling like an unwanted guest in his own home.

“Do you need money, Jongdae?” Junmyeon starts. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Jongdae frowns. “No?”

“If you liked it, why didn't you tell me? I could have given it to you. I could have bought fifty of them and given them to you. Since we’ve lived together--no--since we’ve come to the agreement that you would live here in exchange for working for me, have I ever treated you poorly? Have I ever paid you late? Have I ever missed any payments? Was the pay not generous enough? Did I not cover your tuition free-of-charge, out of the kindness of my heart? I just don’t understand why you would--”

“--But I didn’t--”

“--There are more valuable things in the house, Jongdae! Why don’t you take them? Oh, are they too big? Can’t carry them out by yourself without being noticed? I think I… I misjudged you. Sure, last night was a moment of weakness, but I never imagined I would be taken advantage of--”

“--You know what, you!”

Jongdae takes the ring he had been playing with from his pocket and throws it. It ricochets off of Junmyeon’s chest and skips across the floor somewhere.

“I’m not about to let you make me out to be some underhanded, ungrateful, greedy thief. I didn’t steal your ing ring, you put it on me last night!”

“Why would I--”

“Because you were drunk, ! You got dumped by your girlfriend--I think, actually, I’m not really sure, but that’s beside the point--and came home wasted out of your mind. You were all over me because you thought I was your girlfriend and then you shoved that damn ring on my finger. I couldn’t even take it off until today! And you know what,” Jongdae says, moving closer so he can jab Junmyeon with his finger, “you ing kissed me! You . Kissed . Me .”

Junmyeon doesn’t know which detail he should tackle first.

“Jongdae, I didn’t know--”

“And I didn’t know what was going on, either , but I still gave you the benefit of the doubt. Why? I don’t know, maybe because that’s what you do to people you’re friends with. But I guess I’m nothing to you besides a ing butler or something. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself before you started saying all this stupid , but I definitely see how you feel about me now. I’m nothing more to you than a money-gurgling, gold-digging , huh.”

“I never called you a money-gurgling, gold-digging , Jongdae.”

“Well, I read between the lines, and that’s what I heard.”

After a beat of silence, Jongdae moves towards the closet.

“What- what are you doing?”

Jongdae, after throwing out a bunch of coats and shoes behind him, pulls out a giant suitcase.

“I’m leaving,” Jongdae says. He starts for the rooms but Junmyeon grabs his arm.

“What do you mean? You can’t just leave--”

“Why the hell can’t I?” Jongdae asks, challenging him with his glare.

Junmyeon wavers. “B-because. You haven’t cleaned up the house today. I won’t pay you if--”

Jongdae laughs, and it’s painful for both of them, but for different reasons.

“Are you kidding me?” Jongdae asks, his pitch so high his voice almost comes out softly. “I quit , Junmyeon. your money.”

Jongdae breaks free out of his grip, but Junmyeon grabs the suitcase handle instead.

“I paid for this suitcase.”

Junmyeon isn’t looking at Jongdae’s face when he says it. He’s looking at the hand on the suitcase he now faintly remembers slipping a ring over.

Jongdae huffs and as he looks at his distorted image in the marble ceilings, he wonders how he could have ever thought that this place was ever his , how he could have called this place home .

Jongdae grabs the backpack he came up with and leaves without another word.