prompt fill for ikon’s prompt meme, sinoshijak [original prompt] god this is so overdue

basically junhwan being dumb feat. bobby being dumber

The first time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, it flies right over the oldest’s head.

(It was at least six inches – Junhoe’s rather proud of that, honestly.)

Dance practice is normally one of Junhoe’s favorite times of the day.

Today, it is not.

After a heated discussion in which Hanbin yells at Junhoe for apparently doing something wrong (it’s not his fault his legs are three inches longer than Hanbin’s, really), Junhoe decides to barricade himself inside one of the recording rooms and make paper airplanes out of Hanbin’s sheet music.

This, of course, loses its appeal relatively quickly – Hanbin keeps most of his music on his computer, and Junhoe doesn’t have an imminent death wish, thank you very much. He unfolds the sheets of paper roughly, dumping them on the desk with a careless hand.

Junhoe’s cooled down from his initial anger, but he’s not yet interested in confronting the leader, nor in facing the inevitable lecture. He’s seventeen, for God’s sake, and Hanbin isn’t even a whole year older; shouldn’t there be a law against people that close in age trying to pull rank?

Now that his mind’s a little clearer, he notices that not all of the papers are sheet music – in fact, they aren’t even lyrics.

He spreads them out, sorting out the interesting ones from Hanbin’s memos to buy more snapbacks and ramen. Soon, he’s left with a fairly substantial stack of papers, and he leans back to read.

If he’d been eating or drinking anything, he would have spat it out the second he read To Bobby, I, uh, think I like you in Hanbin’s distinctive scrawl.

“Huh,” Junhoe mutters, thoroughly amazed that the unbeatable eighteen-year-old single man was actually being somewhat proactive about something instead of moping all the time and expecting pity.

(He never got any, especially from Junhoe himself, but Junhoe supposes Bobby’s got a soft spot for their leader, so maybe it’ll work.)

This, of course, brings up the topic of Junhoe’s love life (or lack thereof). Admittedly, he’s just as bad as Hanbin, only not as whiny – he’s never dated anyone, the extent of his romantic endeavors remaining firmly planted in the one-sided crush territory.

Granted, Junhoe’s never really been interested in dating, since he’d started training right around the time when most boys stop thinking girls have cooties, and he cared more about hitting notes than hitting on people.

Lately, though, he’s been feeling kind of weird – namely, due to one Kim Jinhwan.

Junhoe’s not sure exactly how it started. One moment, he was watching Jinhwan practice some choreography, and the next he was imagining him . Unfortunately (or fortunately?), due to the wonder of shared showers, Junhoe knows exactly what Jinhwan looks like, and while he’d never particularly cared before, the image of his favorite hyung dripping wet decided to insert itself into his head and he was bolting out the door.

(“Junhoe’s growing up!” Bobby had crowed after him, but Junhoe knows for a fact that Bobby’s no better – he’s had to run out of practice at least ten times in the two and a half years Junhoe’s been at YG.)

What the hell, Junhoe figures, and plucks a piece of scrap paper and a pen from off the table.

Once they’re in his hands, though, he’s got absolutely no idea what to say. He’s never been good with words, and he’s painfully blunt more often not.

“Dear Jinhwan?” No, that’s ridiculous. “Jinhwan-hyung, I want to get into your pants?” Isn’t that moving a little fast?

Eventually, he settles for a simple “I like you,” and folds up the paper into an airplane, because he’s got no idea what else to do with it.

He amuses himself by throwing the note around the room for a bit, and he’s just launched it towards the door when it opens, revealing the man of the hour. The airplane sails straight over Jinhwan’s head and lands gracefully on the floor behind him.

“So you were here,” Jinhwan chuckles to himself. “I should’ve come here first.”

Junhoe shrugs, his throat suddenly gone dry. “Well, I mean Hanbin usually comes here…”

“He went out on a walk,” Jinhwan says, “Bobby went after him to make sure he didn’t try to go to Busan again.”

“Why didn’t you go after him?” Junhoe asks. It’s no secret in the group that the three Kims are closest to each other, despite the strong overall group bond they share.

Jinhwan raises an eyebrow, still far too amused. “Would you rather Bobby come in here looking for you?”

Junhoe makes a face – as much as he likes the rest of the members, Bobby’s always reminded Junhoe of an overeager puppy that doesn’t know when to back down and shut up.

“Thought so. C’mon, let’s go back to the dorm. I’ll make you some food.”

The prospect of food appeals to Junhoe’s stomach immensely, which decides to make an embarrassingly loud noise.

“That settles that, then,” Junhoe mumbles, standing up and rubbing his neck to try and brush it off. Jinhwan just smiles and throws an arm around Junhoe’s waist, Junhoe’s arm naturally coming up to rest on Jinhwan’s shoulders.

“Hm?” Jinhwan squats down to pick up the airplane-note. “You threw this earlier, right?”

Junhoe’s heart starts beating double-time, and he nods, praying that Jinhwan doesn’t open it (or does he want Jinhwan to open it? He’s not really sure.)

“Don’t litter, you idiot,” Jinhwan teases, pinching Junhoe’s side and dropping the airplane in the bin.

Junhoe lets out a sigh, but if it’s out of relief or disappointment, he’s not sure.

*

The second time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he chokes on the words.

(Not Junhoe himself, but Jinhwan.)

He’s lying on the couch next to Donghyuk, who’d developed a fondness for watching cheesy dramas. Junhoe himself isn’t much of a fan, but there’s something to be said for their mind-numbing qualities.

Not for the first time, he squints at the screen after having zoned out a little too long. “Dong, what’s going on?”

“She’s gonna confess to him!” comes the excited reply, Donghyuk’s eyes glued to the screen.

Huh. Junhoe makes an effort to pay attention this time. He hasn’t tried confessing to Jinhwan after the airplane incident a week ago, but he figures that this is probably a sign from the heavens that he ought to try again. The actress presents a cupcake to her onscreen love interest, who picks up the sweet and bites into it, expression contorting from pleased to confused as he pulls it away, revealing a folded paper in the middle. He opens it, surprise crossing his features.

“Jiyeon-ah… you… like me?”

“Yes, oppa, please say you’ll accept!”

Bells start ringing in Junhoe’s head at this (granted, they could very well be alarm bells, but Junhoe isn’t paying too much attention), and he jumps up from the couch, patting Donghyuk on the shoulder in silent thanks.

“Junhoe? Where are you going? You’ll miss the best part!” Donghyuk calls after him.

Junhoe ignores him, heading straight for the kitchen. He can’t cook worth a damn and he doesn’t think any bakeries in the area are open at midnight, but he’s pretty sure Bobby’s got some kind of snack hidden away in the cupboards that he can use.

He comes away with a package containing two pieces of some kind of violently yellow snack cake with an English name, and he shrugs. This will have to do.

Tucking the snack into the pocket of his pants, he makes his way to his room, where he locates a bit of paper and a pen.

Jinhwan, I like you. Go out with me? he writes, trying to keep his handwriting as neat as possible. He folds up his declaration of love, rips open the snack package, and sticks the paper into one of the holes at the bottom of the thing.

“Jinhwan-hyung!” he calls, sticking his head out the door, “come quick!”

Jinhwan, of course, comes running. “What is it?”

“Some fans gave me some snacks,” he lies through his teeth, “there’s two in the package, and I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to split it with me?”

Jinhwan weighs the costs and benefits in his head for a few moments before shrugging. “Sure.”

Junhoe pushes the prepared snack towards Jinhwan, who looks at it cautiously before nibbling a bit at the end. Junhoe takes a bite out of the other to appear less suspicious, and he grimaces. Why does Bobby keep these around? They’re not that great.

“Hmm,” Jinhwan says, taking a larger bite. “Interesting.”

“KOO JUNHOE!” comes a sudden shout, and Jinhwan jumps about three feet in the air at the unexpected noise. “DID YOU TAKE MY TWINKIES?”

Junhoe’s about to make his grand escape (this is Bobby’s room, too, after all), when Jinhwan starts making strangled noises.

“Stuck… throat… help!”

Junhoe tries to remember how this was done in that medical drama Donghyuk was watching last month, wrapping his arms around Jinhwan’s midsection. If only this were under better circumstances, Junhoe sighs mentally, as he squeezes hard.

Jinhwan coughs, a damp ball of yellow mush landing on the floor. With some regret, Junhoe notices the scrap of paper sticking out from it, and he grabs a tissue, hastily wiping it up.

“Thanks, June-yah,” Jinhwan says, rubbing his throat. “Didn’t want to die quite yet.”

“No problem, hyung,” he replies. Even though Jinhwan’s the one who choked, Junhoe feels an odd lump in his throat.

“KOO JUNHOE! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Junhoe takes that as his cue to dive under his bed and push Jinhwan towards the door, before one or both of them gets murdered that night.

*

The third time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he just can’t find the words to say.

(No, really, where did his lyric sheet go?)

After Jinhwan nearly dies, Junhoe decides to go for a simpler approach – the serenade.

He spends several days poring over videos online to try and find just the right song (really, this stuff is even harder than their monthly evaluations), until he finally decides to stick with the classic With You by Chris Brown.

Unfortunately, though, he’s met with a sudden wrench in his plans. They’ve all got to go to Japan in a couple of days to open for Big Bang’s dome tour, and after that, Junhoe knows he’s not going to have a substantial amount of time since they’ll be preparing for their debut.

Well, he hopes they’ll be preparing for their debut. Big Bang’s been singing Fantastic Baby for as long as he’s been in the company, and he’d gotten sick of it after the first four months. If he has to sing Just Another Boy for all eternity, he might just quit entirely.

He prints out the lyric sheet, humming to himself as the paper inches out. He’s relatively familiar with the song, but he wants to make a few changes to make the whole thing a little more personal. If it were entirely up to him, he’d actually write a song, but his lyric-writing skills are about as good as his speaking skills (that is to say, pretty bad), his composing skills are nonexistent (he doesn’t think plonking out a few nursery rhymes on the piano counts as instrumental talent), and there’s no way in hell he’d ever ask Bobby or Hanbin for help – Bobby would make it a point to laugh at Junhoe for the rest of eternity, and Hanbin would probably insist on either making a featuring verse or sticking an entirely inappropriate trap break in.

He spends the next few hours practicing the song and rewriting some of the verses, mostly involving changing all the pronouns and attempting to turn half the song into Korean so that his tongue doesn’t get messed up in the middle. When he decides that the song’s as good as it’s gonna get, he gets up and leaves to eat some lunch (to fortify himself for the mission ahead) and find Jinhwan (because obviously the plan will fail without him.)

Luckily, he runs into Jinhwan in the kitchen, who’s making a pot of ramyun. Junhoe grabs a packet from the cabinet and pushes it up next to Jinhwan’s on the counter.

“You expect me to make you one too?” Jinhwan asks teasingly, ripping open the first package and putting the noodles in the boiling water.

Junhoe shrugs, as Jinhwan dumps in the second package, along with the seasonings. He hums to himself as he separates the noodles with a pair of chopsticks, and Junhoe’s heart suddenly feels too big for his chest.

(He really hates those cow pajamas.)

“June-yah, do you want egg in yours?” Jinhwan asks, as he opens the fridge.

“Uh,” Junhoe says, and Jinhwan just smiles, grabbing two and cracking them into the boiling pot.

Junhoe sits down at the kitchen table, feeling oddly anxious. Or maybe not oddly, because he is going to be spilling his guts out in about twenty minutes. But he ignores that in favor of thanking Jinhwan for the ramyun as the oldest brings it over, popping the egg yolk and mixing his noodles around.

“Hyung, afterwards, let’s go to my room, m’kay?” Junhoe says, slurping down some noodles.

Jinhwan quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing, merely smiling and blowing on his own.

The redness creeping up his neck is obviously the spice, Junhoe decides, as he eats the noodles as fast as he can without causing himself bodily harm. Jinhwan’s still only about halfway done, and Junhoe fights to keep himself from staring at Jinhwan’s face, instead prodding aimlessly at a couple of limp reconstituted green onions at the bottom of his bowl.

“So what was so important you wanted to show me?” Jinhwan asks, as Junhoe (in a sudden and never-to-be-mentioned show of consideration) takes both of their bowls to the sink.

“Um. Let’s go,” Junhoe says, resisting the urge to grab Jinhwan’s hand as they walk to Junhoe’s room. Jinhwan takes a seat on Hanbin’s bunk while Junhoe goes to grab his lyric sheet.

Only, it’s not there.

He could have sworn he left it on his desk, but instead he finds a neatly printed sheet with the lyrics to what is apparently Verbal Jint’s Make Up , if the title is any indication of the contents.

“Junhoe?” Jinhwan asks, and Junhoe gulps hard.

He definitely can’t do this.

“Uh… never mind, hyung.”

*

The fourth time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he trips over himself in his haste.

(He may also have pulled a groin muscle.)

No one can resist this body, Junhoe tells himself as he examines himself in the training room mirror, fixing the tips of his bangs from under the brim of his snapback so that they’re angled just so. He’s decided to fall back on his original talent, and spent the last day and a half planning to choreograph a dance to Crush’s I Fancy You.

For once, Bobby’d proven himself useful – or perhaps just forgetful, but it didn’t matter much to Junhoe.

Junhoe’d been having issues choosing a song, so he decided to listen to his iPod in the hopes of finding something that he could work with, only to find that it wasn’t his, but Bobby’s. After the initial rage of Bobby jacking his stuff again subsided, he realized that he might actually have come across something he could work with. He isn’t well acquainted with the artist (he figures it’s one of the Illionare acquaintances that Bobby had made after Show Me the Money), but that song had been queued up, and he’d actually liked it a good deal. It’s got a good beat, and although it’s a little suggestive, Junhoe figures that could appeal to Jinhwan.

If this works out, he might actually thank Bobby.

Might.

(Probably not.)

Admittedly, the dance is mostly body waving, pointing, and running his hands down his body, but he’s working under time constraints – they leave for Japan tomorrow, so he’d had roughly half a day to choreograph this – and he’s pretty sure he’ll get his message across, anyways.

He’s contemplating the finishing touches on his ending position (On one knee? Standing? Lying down? Should he rip his shirt off?) when the door opens suddenly, Jinhwan’s head poking in.

“Hello? Is someone in here?”

The music’s still playing full blast, and Junhoe jumps, all but sprinting over to the iPod dock to change the song. He can’t have his surprise spoiled, after all.

Unfortunately, he seems to have overestimated the length of his legs, a searing pain shooting up his inner thigh as he slams his hand down on the skip track button.

Also unfortunately, Bobby would put his own song on his damned iPod, and the dreadfully familiar beats to Put Your Guard Up and Bounce come on.

As if on cue, Bobby pushes past Jinhwan and skids into the room, somehow simultaneously managing to rip his shirt off and swagdance at the same time. If Junhoe weren’t pissed off and in pain, he would have found it incredibly amusing – as it stands now, all he want is for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He pumps his own arms weakly in an attempt to divert the oldest’s attention, shooting Jinhwan an awkward half-smile.

“If you wanted to have a dance party by yourself, you could have just said something,” Jinhwan laughs, closing the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Junhoe limps over and shuts the speaker off. “Really, hyung? Really?”

Bobby just looks at him. “Huh?”

Junhoe throws his snapback at him.

*

The fifth time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he ends up scaring his pants off.

(He’s certain it was Bobby that did the deed.)

For some reason, Junhoe finds himself at a Japanese amusement park once again – this time, they’re going to a haunted house. Junhoe himself is no fan, but he figures they’re not too bad.

He’s not like Jinhwan, at least, who’s shivering visibly as he stares at the formidable building. It’s an ugly thing, painted in various dark shades of paint, with boards hanging off and the like.

Junhoe knows a prime opportunity when he sees one – a scared Jinhwan means near-certain skinship, which means he’ll have a chance to display his manly powers, which will lead to Jinhwan realizing what a catch he is and accepting his confession of love.

(Clearly, this plan has more than a few kinks in it, but Junhoe figures at this point he may as well just roll with it, since everything else he’s tried has failed.)

“You can hold my hand if you’re scared, hyung,” he whispers into Jinhwan’s ear, and the oldest flinches, but grips onto Junhoe’s sleeve.

Junhoe decides he can get used to this, Jinhwan’s body heat radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt as the seven of them enter the haunted house. He can hear Bobby making ridiculous spooky sounds next to Hanbin, who he imagines is probably rolling his eyes in response.

(He’s honestly confused as to why Hanbin – or anyone, for that matter, would ever have a thing for Bobby, but to each their own, he supposes. As long as that means the leader is staying far away from Jinhwan.)

Jinhwan gets closer with every passing minute they spend inside the house until he might as well be clinging onto Junhoe like a koala. Junhoe would be enjoying this immensely – if not for the fact that he seems to have grossly overestimated his tolerance for the frightening. The beginning was relatively tame, just a few skulls placed in corners and fog, but somewhere around the middle the lights faded to near nonexistence, and Junhoe’s heart rate has probably tripled from the combination of things jumping out at them and Jinhwan jumping on his body.

“Oh god, oh god,” he hears Jinhwan mutter to himself after a particularly loud goblin had sprung out at them, and he breathes deeply, trying to keep himself calm.

Suddenly, he hears something move behind him, and he’s about to turn around and look when he suddenly feels something very breezy around his nether regions and he trips, shouting as he takes someone down with him.

A bright light pierces Junhoe’s field of vision, revealing Yunhyeong with a flashlight (seriously, couldn’t he have cracked that out earlier?), a scandalized Chanwoo with Hanbin attempting to cover the maknae’s eyes, a bemused Donghyuk, and a cackling Bobby.

“Damn, Junhoe, never knew you wanted to get it on that badly!”

Heart suddenly stopping, Junhoe looks down, to find – who else, really – Jinhwan trapped underneath him. Heat rushes to his face and he jumps to his feet, yanking his pants back up before extending a hand to Jinhwan.

“I—uh—sorry, hyung, I—” Junhoe stammers. What exactly is he supposed to say? “Sorry, I think someone pantsed me, and I mean I do want to do stuff but not like that, but maybe like that?”

Jinhwan pats him on the shoulder in forgiveness, his face ashen.

Junhoe hears Bobby still snickering behind him, and vows to hide his Pooh on the highest shelf once they get back to the hotel.

*

The one time Junhoe actually does manage to confess to Jinhwan, it’s a piece of cake.

(They’re really eating ddeokbokki, but details, details.)

Seeing as how Junhoe has somehow managed to up five confessions, he figures that this time, he might as well just come out with it – blunt and simple.

They’re sitting at the kitchen table, eating some snacks that Hanbin had made Chanwoo bring back, when Junhoe finally decides to steel himself and just go for it.

“Jinhwan-hyung,” Junhoe says conversationally, as he chews on a piece of rice cake, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Hm?” Jinhwan looks up from his glass of water. “What?”

“I, uh,” Junhoe says, running a hand through his hair so he can attempt to look cool instead of awkwardly nervous, “kinda, uh, like you. Hyung. A lot.”

“I know.”

“And I mean I know you probably like Hanbin or some—what?”

Junhoe blinks at Jinhwan owlishly, who does that stupid eye-smile of his as he reaches across the table to skewer a piece of fish cake. “I said I know.”

“You—uh—really?”

Jinhwan chews slowly, deliberately. Junhoe can feel sweat starting to drip down the back of neck.

“Yup.”

“How—uh—”

“You weren’t exactly subtle,” Jinhwan says, “also, Bobby showed me your Chris Brown lyric sheet with your notes on it.”

“That bastard,” Junhoe hisses lowly, and Jinhwan pokes him in the head.

“That’s your hyung, be nice to him,” he reprimands, but his words are without bite.

“I’ll be nice to him when he stops making it his life mission to make my life as painfully awkward as possible,” Junhoe grumbles, shoving a piece of rice cake in his mouth and chomps viciously.

“He’s just looking out for you?” Jinhwan suggests, shrugging as he sets his skewer down. “I think.”

Junhoe rolls his eyes, putting his own skewer down as well. “Whatever.”

They’re silent for a bit, and it itches at Junhoe, because everything feels so unfinished, but at the same time, he’s got no idea what to do next. Admittedly, he never did figure out what he was supposed to do after the actual act of confession.

“June-yah, you’re too cute,” Jinhwan says, reaching over to ruffle Junhoe’s bangs. “I knew I picked a good one.”

“You—what?”

Jinhwan gets up, and before Junhoe can register what’s actually happening, Jinhwan’s pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead and tugging at his hand.

“Come on, we have practice.”

“Hyung, what?”

Junhoe stumbles after him in a daze, only barely registering Bobby and Hanbin’s whoops enough to give them the finger.

 “Couldn’t you leave them well enough alone?” Jinhwan teases, “they are your hyungs, after all.”

“Nope.”

“That’s my favorite maknae,” Jinhwan murmurs, standing on his tiptoes to press another kiss to Junhoe’s cheek. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

(The one time Jinhwan confesses to Junhoe, he’s floating on cloud nine.)

(Well, he’s standing on hardwood floor, but he might as well be flying.)