Chapter Text
They wander out by the Han river. Minho has wound a scarf around Jeongin’s throat, tucking it inside his jacket so it will ‘stay nice and tight and warm’ he proclaims, while Jeongin feels his cheeks grow pink.
“Are you going to lace my boots for me too, hyung?” Jeongin asks, sassy with it as he avoids meeting Minho’s eyes.
He also avoids thinking about why he's so endeared by the care Minho is taking of him. Nor does he give thought to how the scarf, which Minho had been wearing, surrounds him with the cosy warmth of a campfire on a chill mountain morning.
“Yah, brat. I trust you were able to tie your own boots before you came down to the lobby, but why you didn’t think to bring a scarf, I don’t know.” Minho flips the collar of his own coat up about his neck to stay warm and guides them to his car so they can drive out to the river.
Which is why they now find themselves on the pathway, the wind chill and whistling through the air as the river flows beside them, only the edges near the banks showing frost and hints of ice forming. It’s early in the day, the sun still making its way towards the zenith amidst the clouds, fluffy and grey in the morning sky. Jeongin’s cheeks are pink now, due to the cold November weather, and his hands are covered by mittens that match his hat, which Minho had insisted on pulling down until the brim covered the tips of Jeongin’s ears. His long puffer jacket keeps him warm, though he wonders if he may need to get a new one before winter is over. It’s all up to the pup at this point, he supposes, and perhaps the lasting power of the winter season.
He sighs, which draws Minho’s attention. Minho’s long woollen coat appears to be keeping him warm enough, though Jeongin worries about the lack of scarf, Jeongin knows offering him back the one now around his neck is a quick way to start an argument he has no hope of winning. Minho’s gloved hands are tucked into his pockets, which will keep them warm. Jeongin wonders if he can sneak his hand into Minho's pockets as well. They look deeper than his own, which are just large enough to hold his mittens, so long as they are not accompanied with the hands they cover.
Minho leans over to bump him with his shoulder as they continue on their walk. “That was a large sigh.”
It’s a comment, not a question, which Jeongin knows means he could choose to explain, or not. It’s an invitation, stating Minho’s willingness to listen, rather than a demand. Minho has always been respectful of Jeongin’s reticence towards discussing his emotions. Jeongin shrugs. “Just wondering if I might need to buy a new jacket before winter’s over.”
“You don’t like your jacket? Thought you were thrilled when you got it at the end of season sale last year.”
He huffs a laugh. “I’ll have to get a new one if it won’t fit me in January.”
Minho dips his head with a sheepish grin. “Oh.”
Jeongin wishes he could see Minho’s ears, but they are well covered by his hat. Jeongin suspects they’ll be reddened by a rare bashfulness, but if Minho was without the hat, Jeongin supposes the cool wind would have made them so anyway. He’ll never have a hope of knowing if the lack of forethought regarding his jacket had caught Minho off-guard in a slightly embarrassing way, hat or no hat.
“Most people don’t start showing until the fourth or fifth month,” Minho offers.
This is followed by a disgruntled exhale. “So, likely I will. How annoying.”
Minho chuckles, “I could take you shopping. Make a day of it. Treat you to lunch, then massage your poor sore feet when we get home.”
“Hmm. That sounds like it might appease me,” Jeongin says, tilting his head with a smirk as he glances at Minho.
“Might?” Minho’s expression is representative of anyone who has ever been horribly offended. Jeongin knows it for the sham it is. Minho’s eyes narrow. “What more do you think you deserve?”
Jeongin tips his nose into the air, lofty and proud. He quips, without quibble, “The world and everything in it.”
He isn’t deft enough to dodge as Minho pulls his hands from his pockets and proceeds to wrap his arms around Jeongin and begins tickling him. While Jeongin laughs, it isn’t because Minho succeeds. Jeongin really is going to regret having to replace this puffer jacket, though later in pregnancy, he imagines being tickled would be a risky endeavour. Anyone making him laugh at that point would quickly have him running off to the toilet. “I’m wearing tickle armour!” he crows with great cheer.
Minho glowers at him and lets him go with a huff. “I’ll remember this later.”
Jeongin hooks his elbow through Minho’s and brushes their shoulders with their next step. It seems the tease Minho season is open. He is going to take full advantage. “Are you saying I’m not worth all that?”
Minho peers at him from the side of his eye. “The world and everything in it is a little much, and I am just one hyung.”
“Just a little much? I guess I’m close to worth it then,” Jeongin smirks, knocking his shoulder against Minho’s again. “I’ll try harder.”
Minho stumbles, yoinking Jeongin along with him by their joined elbows. He clears his throat as he catches his balance and starts walking again. “No one’s perfect, Iyen-ah. Don’t hurt yourself with all that trying.”
That isn’t the comment he expects. He figures Minho would argue his wording, over turn it by saying something like ‘a lot much’ instead, but he didn’t prevaricate or withdraw his previous comment. He hasn’t disputed Jeongin’s comment, or suggested that he isn’t close to worth that much.
If anything, Minho indicated that he couldn’t be more perfect because perfection couldn’t be achieved?
Frowning thoughtfully, Jeongin keeps walking. Usually Minho would continue teasing, playing along with him, but not this time. He glances at him, worrying that something might be wrong.
But no, Minho seems alright, not that he is easy to read most of the time, but after years of knowing each other, there is usually some hint, some sign, if Minho isn’t doing well. He isn’t cracking his knuckles, and his face doesn’t have that loose and emotionless aspect it assumes when he doesn’t want to be read. There’s probably nothing wrong. He’ll still watch out for it, just in case.
It’s possible Minho is being considerate. After all, with what happened with Chan and Felix, Jeongin has been feeling uncertain, and off balance. His own life plans have gone to the shredder, and the surrogacy plans are going awry as well. Is Minho letting him have this so he can feel more confident? Jeongin has seen Minho do similar things for Jisung in the past, so it isn’t completely out of his playbook.
Jeongin is probably over-thinking the whole situation, which he has a tendency to do. It probably isn’t that deep. Likely about as deep as his puffer jacket pockets, and not at all deep like Minho’s woollen jacket ones. He snorts in private amusement, which has Minho glancing at him again. “Minho-hyung, are you getting cold?”
“Hmm?” Minho cocks his head to the side, “It is cold out, but no. Why?”
“Your nose is a little red.” Jeongin’s grin is hidden by the scarf. “It's cute.”
Minho scoffs and scowls. “Definitely not.”
“Well, no, not now,” Jeongin agrees easily. “It’s all scrunched up now. Maybe if you gave me a pout instead of a glower.”
“That’s not going to work.” The disgruntled muttering causes Jeongin to giggle.
Minho’s even breathing has Jeongin glancing at him, and pulling down the scarf so Minho can see his wide smile.
“Brat,” Minho sighs, but his own lips curve into a smile. “You aren't playing fair.”
“Of course not,” Jeongin easily agrees. “My favourite hyung taught me better than that.”
“I’ll have to toss him into the air fryer at 180 degrees for twenty minutes when we get back.”
Jeongin laughs, leaning against Minho and using Minho’s steadfastness to remain standing. As he looks at Minho, he sees the snow starting to fall, delicate flakes that are perching on Minho’s hat, and the one that fell on his nose, which melts as Jeongin watches. He stops laughing, stops moving, but doesn’t pull away.
Minho looks down at where Jeongin is resting against him. He doesn’t say anything, and the longer he looks into the Jeongin’s eyes, the warmer Jeongin feels. The snow continues to fall, soft, cold and quickly melting. When a clump of flakes lands on Jeongin’s lashes, he blinks, the flakes slip and melt against his cheek, the water run down and traces the edge of his jaw.
Raising his hand to Jeongin’s cheek, Minho thumbs away the water. He pulls the scarf about Jeongin’s neck back up to cover his mouth and nose. “Let’s head home. It looks like the snow is only going to get worse.”
Jeongin almost declines, he's been enjoying this walk. The feeling in his chest right now even more so. But, alas.
So, Jeongin begins to walk again, this time back towards the car. “I can make hot chocolate when we get back. With marshmallows.”
“That instant stuff, made with hot water?” Minho’s tone is aggrieved.
“That’s the usual way to make hot chocolate,” Jeongin insists, hiding his smirk behind the scarf. His goal is just in reach. Hot milk with melted chocolate is soon to be his, covered with marshmallows.
“You can make your hot chocolate then, and I’ll make mine.” Minho looks well satisfied with that.
Jeongin pouts and whines. “Hyung…”
Minho arches his brow and nudges Jeongin with his elbow. “Did you think that was going to work for you?”
“Well, yes…”
A snort is followed by a high pitched laugh. “Fine, fine. I’ll make your hot chocolate.”
Jeongin whoops. “You’re the best hyung.”
The walk continues, the snow falling in greater sized flakes, some sticking together as they fall. They are quite covered by the time they return to the car. Minho starts it and urges Jeongin to get in while he brushes the snow off the car. “It should warm up soon, and if that doesn’t thaw you out, we’ll bundle you up in blankets and feed you hot chocolate.”
“Alright hyung.” Jeongin snuggles further into his jacket as he sits in the car, wiggling his toes in his boots trying to keep them warm. He has a thought, and doesn’t want to wait to ask, so he rolls down his window, just enough so that Minho can hear him. A little bit of snow blows in, landing in his lap. “Minho-hyung, is this the first snowfall of the season?”
“Hmm. I think so. Why?” Minho answers, before looking over and seeing the open window. “Yah, you’re letting the warm air out. Close up the window.”
Jeongin rolls up the window with a laugh. To think, the two of them are out during the first snowfall of the year. Like a typical k-drama. He starts to plot out what the story would be: a friend to lovers romance, two oblivious idiots. It would be cute, and soft. Maybe Seungmin could play the best friend who helps one of them realise the feelings they’d had all along, and record a lovestruck OST. He keeps himself occupied envisioning the drama until Minho finishes, joining him in the car, and they head back to the apartment.
“I’ve missed you,” are the words smeared against Minho’s neck as Jisung flings himself against him, expecting to be caught.
His expectations are met, and Minho hugs him tightly with a laugh. “You say that as if I don’t see you anymore.”
“Not lately. At least, not alone,” Jisung pouts cutely. Minho knows that if something was truly wrong, Jisung wouldn’t say a word while they were out in public like this, but would hesitantly talk to him about it later. Instead, he continues to be playful with his whiny tone. “You’re always attached to Jeongin. Not that you shouldn’t be. He needs you right now, but I still miss you, hyung!”
“I’ve missed you too, jagiya.” Minho pats Jisung’s ass before letting him go. “You’re doing okay though? Don’t think I didn’t catch you and Hyunjin holding hands in the theatre.”
“We’d get along better if he didn’t keep opening his mouth all the time.”
“I think there’s things that happen between you where you prefer his mouth is open,” Minho teases with a smirk, even as Jisung swats at his chest.
“Don’t. I mean, it’s true, but just no, let’s not talk about that.” Jisung’s puffy cheeks are ablaze as he ducks his head to hide behind his mid-length chestnut hair. “Obviously that’s a thing, because that’s part of the whole,” he waves his hand through the air before he continues, “situation, but maybe we just shouldn’t have?”
Minho takes Jisung’s hand in his own. After holding Jeongin’s so frequently lately, it seems strange to not have his hand be completely surrounded, and instead, meet a palm similar in size to his own, with fingers about the same length as well. “Do you really feel that way, or is it just hard, and you wish it was easy?”
Jisung sighs, “It is hard, and I do wish it was easy. We used to fight all the time. For no real reason, or at least no cause? I mean, he’s gorgeous and I’m me, and I felt so insignificant, and I was a brat and…”
Minho interrupts, “I’m not going to let you spiral like that, Sungie. You’re cute as heck, and so talented. Yeah, you were both brats back then, comparing yourselves to the other and finding ways you were lacking and trying to bring the other down to feel better. But you don’t do that anymore. At least, I hope not.”
Jisung sighs, “No, we don’t. We fight about other things, and I still don’t think we’re talking about what really matters.”
“Same pattern, but different things to hide?” Minho tries to confirm what is going on. At Jisung’s nod, he gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “What is it you’re hiding, Sungie? What don’t you want Hyunjin to see?”
Jisung looks away and he nibbles at his lower lip. Minho gives him time, walking beside him as they stroll through the mall where they’d met to do some shopping. Jisung has agreed to help Minho find some new clothes for Jeongin. Minho doesn’t want Jeongin to struggle into his clothes until they no longer fit and he has nothing to wear, but he doesn’t trust himself to know what Jeongin might like. Hyunjin may have been a better shopping partner for that purpose, but he knows Jisung is floundering and needs him. He can give him an afternoon while Jeongin is out with Seungmin.
“I thought it would go away. I was attracted to him. I figured, sleep with him, get over it, go back to being friends,” Jisung admits, still nibbling at his lower lip. He isn’t done talking, not yet, but thinking carefully between rambled words. “But, I didn’t. Get over it, I mean. And we just keep sleeping together, and then trying to be friends after, like it doesn’t mean anything. I want it to mean something, but I’m petrified it won’t mean anything to him, and I can’t bring it up, cause what if that’s true, and then everything’s just a bigger mess.”
“You’ll just keep hiding your heart, letting it be wounded and scarred?” Minho sighs. “That’s not fair to you or to him. You won’t know how he feels until you talk to him. He could be feeling the same way. What do you do when you’re trying to hide, Jisung?”
Jisung rubs his knuckles over his cheek, “I try to distract people.”
“Mhmm.” Minho turns to look at Jisung, notes the way he is still looking down, as if he doesn’t want to be perceived. If he doesn’t want to be seen like this, then he never should have agreed to accompany Minho on this shopping excursion. Jisung has never been able to hide from him. “And you do that either through deflectring with comedic actions or words, or you fight. I think you’ve been fighting. You know what’s going to happen if you keep fighting, right?”
Jisung looks up at Minho, eyes wide with fear. “I’m going to say something that he won’t be able to forgive or forget, and then it’s really going to be over.”
Minho lets go of Jisung’s hand so he can wrap his arm around his shoulder and pulls him closer as they approach their first shopping destination. “Pretty much. Bet you’re writing lots of songs through all this though,” he grins at Jisung, trying to lighten the mood. “This conversation needs more soju and less walking.”
“Are you offering to take me out for dinner, hyung?” Jisung looks up at him, his eyes wide and pleading.
“We have dinner at home, Jisungie,” Minho smirks down at him. “Put you in the air fryer with Hyunjin.”
Jisung holds his right hand over his heart and sighs dramatically. “So much for going to you for help! At least we’ll die together!”
Minho shakes his head. “You know the plan for today. We’re shopping for Jeongin, so he’ll have things to wear without having to worry about it. I don’t want to have to deal with him being all upset one morning because he woke up and didn’t fit into his favourite hoodie anymore.”
Even if it seems that Jeongin’s favourite hoodies these days are ones which Minho had let him borrow weeks ago. He’d have asked for it back, but Jeongin looked cosy and warm when Minho last saw him all snuggled up in it, hands pulled up into the sleeves to make sweater paws, curled up on the couch.
“What’s that look on your face for?”
Minho blinks and looks down at Jisung. He’s unaware of whatever expression might be on his face, but it’s now carefully blank. “What look?”
“Thoughtful, dreamy, a hint of a smile.” Jisung peers up at him with wide longing eyes which look off into the distance while circling his finger around his own face, trying to mimic the look he described.
Scoffing, Minho bats at Jisung’s shoulder. “I did not look like that.”
“Sure hyung. Whatever you say,” Jisung singsongs.
Huh.
Is that really what his face looks like while thinking about Jeongin? It isn’t an expression Minho would have associated with himself.
He’s spent years helping Jeongin, protecting him, and acting as an older brother while Jeongin has been far from his family home in Busan. Minho doesn’t think about him that way. He doesn’t yearn after him, or long for him, or dream about him. He is fond of Jeongin, of course. Cares for him, holds him in great affection. It isn’t anything more than friendship.
But Minho doesn’t want to reclaim his hoodie either. There is something about seeing Jeongin wearing his clothes and being comfortable in them that is satisfying.
Maybe he's overthinking it, but can anyone blame him for being thrown for a loop on this one?
When they reach the maternity store, Minho takes a deep breath and then walks in. He hasn’t thought about shopping here before. No relationship he’s had has ever reached the point where he thought of marriage or dreamed of having a family. Minho is realistic, and not prone to letting himself drift off on tangents of things that might be, or what the future could hold. He tries to be grounded, and chooses to concern himself with what he has and what is likely, rather than what might be. It is less disappointing when he doesn’t dream. He learnt that early on. If he doesn’t expect his relationships to work out, then he isn’t heartbroken when they fall apart. He hasn’t given up and he still puts in his best effort, he just doesn’t believe in love the way he did when he was young. Love isn’t a mystical thing which you fall into and everything is perfect. Relationships are messy with expectations and a need for compromises and so far, the expectations have been such that he can’t meet them, or the compromises required more than he’s willing to accept. He’s being practical and there is nothing wrong with that.
Rather than pretend he has any idea what he’s looking for, he finds a clerk and describes what Jeongin needs: second trimester clothes for a male omega, capable of fitting for some time, and suitable for a professional environment but easy to clean and maintain. While Jeongin doesn’t have as many children who are messy or accident prone in his classes as they are older elementary school children, he himself is prone to dropping or spilling things. Clothes that are hard to clean or require dry cleaning aren’t something that Minho would consider a thoughtful gift for Jeongin.
The clerk shows him various pants, some with draw ties, others with elastic panels, some with adjustable pockets at the front which will decrease pocket space while increasing the waistline. There are also leggings, which have a great deal of elasticity to them. Minho is also shown various sweaters and shirts, all longer in the body, and have slits on the side, or have gathers or ruffles that would expand to cover a growing distance.
With Jisung’s assistance, he’s able to find colours which match, darker greens and blues to go with rust and browns. He insists the fabrics are soft and thick, so they will be comfortable, stand up to some wear, and be warm over the coming winter months.
When they approach the cash register, they bring with them three pairs of pants, five shirts, a sweater and a hoodie. Jisung nudges Minho just before he is about to pay and asks the cashier if they can have a gift receipt, in case Jeongin wants to exchange anything.
“Knew I brought you along for a reason,” Minho grins at him.
Jisung picks up two of the three bags and laughs, “That and you wanted help carrying this all back out to the car. Seriously, did you have to buy this much?”
“You don’t spend all that time in the gym to do nothing with those muscles,” Minho teases, choosing not to acknowledge the evidence of his generosity.
Jisung wiggles his eyebrows. “Hyung, I do plenty with my muscles.”
Minho groans, “I don’t want to know!”
They both laugh, walking back to the car. As they move past the stores on the other side of the mall, Minho sees the lingerie store a few shops away. He frowns thoughtfully and then decides it’s worth ducking in. “I’m going to head in there and pick something else up for Jeongin.”
“Oh.” Jisung looks at the store and stops walking. “Going to pick up something pretty, lacy, a little racy?”
Minho blinks at Jisung and bites off a quick and sharp, “No.”
It doesn’t stop him from suddenly thinking of Jeongin, his skin smooth and golden, a thin strap over his toned shoulders, an expanse of lace. He clamps his mouth shut, turns away, and feels the blaze of heat at the tips of his ears as he moves swiftly into the lingerie store.With effort, he ignores any other parts of himself which experience a similar warmth. He will not be buying anything at all like that. He wants something functional, and comfortable. A bralette that would support a male omega as they proceed through pregnancy.
When he explains this at the counter, the sales clerk remarks on how thoughtful and considerate he is, and how lucky his mate is to have him. Minho attempts to remain stoic, refusing to blush again, no matter how unsettling he finds the thought of Jeongin being his mate. He isn’t going to explain to some random stranger the evolution of events in which he finds himself. Instead, he just says thank you, accepts the recommendations the sales clerk makes and purchases a couple of the bras in neutral skin tones. Of course, requesting a gift receipt, just in case.
He fails to be as stoic as he’d hoped in the wake of the experience, as Jisung takes one look at his face when he comes out of the store and laughs uncontrollably. Minho huffs and glares down at him. “Unless you want to be dinner, let’s get out of here. And quit laughing at me.”
Jisung straightens up and grins. While no longer laughing, he seems to be incredibly delighted and amused. “What’s for dinner, hyung?”
“Sushi?” Minho suggests. With Jeongin out for the evening with Seungmin, he can indulge in something the other couldn’t eat for the duration of the pregnancy.
“Was that a question?” Jisung seems to be easily amused today. He is also determined to land himself in the air fryer if he keeps this up. Perhaps putting him in there with Hyunjin could actually help. A life or death situation might prompt a confession neither seems willing to offer.
What do they call it? Seven minutes in heaven. Or rather it would be seven minutes of hell, because of the heat.
“No,” Minho grumbles, “and over our sushi dinner, you’re telling me how you’re going to go about sorting out your situationship with Hyunjin.”
Jisung whines, but remains smiling as they load the car and head out to the restaurant.
“I’m so glad you could join us for dinner tonight, Jeongin-ah,” Changbin’s voice is a little loud, but the restaurant is busy.
It‘s fair to say Changbin doesn’t recognize an inside voice if he’s hit over the head with one, but inside voices tend to walk softly and also carry a quiet stick, so Jeongin supposes that makes sense. He grins, keeping the clever thought to himself. “It’s been a while since I spent time with the two of you. I told Minho-hyung that Seungmin was taking me to dinner, so you won’t have to worry about any awkward questions later.”
Jeongin looks pointedly between Changbin and Seungmin where they sit beside each other across the table from him. Their hands rest on the table, barely touching, with Seungmin’s ring finger curving over Changbin’s.
“You know everyone would be happy for you if you told them, right?”
Seungmin frowns. “That’s not why.” He shakes his head. “I know they’d be happy for us. But if we tell everyone, then we need to tell our families first, and we’re working up to it.”
Changbin claims Seungmin’s hand, covering it with his own. “You’ve worked hard to keep our secret, Jeongin-ah. Can you keep it a little longer?”
Jeongin knows they’re worried about disclosing their relationship to their families. There’s expectations on both sides that there will be grandchildren. He remembers how frustrated Seungmin had been after telling his parents he was bisexual. They had accepted him quickly, only to follow up by stating they were still expecting he’d eventually settle down and mate with someone able to provide a pup.
He sighs, “I can, and I will. I wouldn’t do that to you. I just want to see you be able to show how happy you make each other. And secrets are hard to keep! I almost slip up all the time.”
“I know. You’ve never been able to keep anything from me,” Seungmin proclaims, looking smug. “As for slipping, you’re still clumsy all the time!”
There are things Jeongin hasn’t told him, but they aren’t really secrets, just things Seungmin hasn’t encountered yet. He wonders if this is because he can’t keep things to himself, or because Seungmin is wise and smart enough to figure things out and he asks in such a way that Jeongin can’t avoid telling the truth, or if it’s just the depth of their friendship. Though, he suspects the first two reasons may be the cause of the third. Which comes first, the lack of secrets or the bonds of friendship?
He and Seungmin have been friends since joining the choir their first year of university. While they were both in the music program, Seungmin was concentrating on musical theatre, while Jeongin was doing a double major with music and education. Jeongin’s voice had cracked during practice, and rather than laughing, or pitying him, Seungmin had been kind, and brought him some tea with lemon and honey during break, expressing his hope that Jeongin would feel better soon. At the time, Jeongin had thought Seungmin must have been wearing scent blockers, but the steady and calm scent of bergamot and old books merged with that of the tea and the music folios in the small choir chamber.Being around Seungmin always reminds him of their evenings spent practising music.
Changbin had chosen a small Italian restaurant for dinner that night. They start with bruschetta, The fresh tomato and basil tastes tangy and fragrant, mixed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, though Jeongin’s unsure of how well the garlic will sit in his stomach. He’s finding some foods he enjoyed in the past aren’t as pleasant while digesting now. Though Jeongin’s tempted to order the aglio e olio, if the garlic in the appetiser leaves his future digestion questionable, the pasta will be overkill. As a kindness to himself, he orders a polenta dish with grilled mushrooms and zucchini. It should be easier on his stomach.
Their conversation so far has surrounded work. Changbin talks about his endeavours to find words, and top lines that will match beats that Chan’s put together and revising lyrics with Jisung. Seungmin’s agent is already forwarding over new scripts for him to review for upcoming projects. With his last film having done so well, he’s not even sure when he’ll have time to read through them all. To Jeongin, his own additions to the conversation seem small. He has a few promising students in his music classes, and a couple parents have already asked if he’ll be willing to take on their children for private piano lessons. He’s always careful with which students he chooses to teach outside of class, talking to the students to ensure they want to learn. So many parents push their children into extracurricular activities the child doesn’t have enthusiasm for, even if they are talented.
Once their server has made the obligatory pass by their table to ask how the food is while they all have full mouths, Seungmin directs the conversation to a subject that Jeongin hasn’t actively avoided, but hasn’t encouraged either.
“It’s been a while since we’ve really had a chance to sit down and talk, just us,” Seungmin states, as a prelude to his question. “All I’ve heard is that you broke things off with Daehyun. Do you want to talk about it?”
Jeongin stares intently at his dish while he stirs the polenta and vegetables together with his spoon. The easy smile slips into a frown and he grumbles, “Not really.”
“Do you think you should talk about it, Jeongin-ah?” Changbin asks softly.
When he looks up, Changbin’s eyes are full of compassion, his smile warm and understanding. Seungmin looks curious, but also sympathetic. With a sigh, Jeongin lets his spoon rest at the side of his dish. “Probably. I mean, it seems like I just broke things off, and then decided on a whim to carry a pup for Chan and Felix, right?”
“I don’t think that at all, Innie,” Seungmin quickly reassures him. “It might seem like that to someone who doesn’t know you, but I feel you’ve been wanting to do something to help them for a while, and with things not working out, it was an opportunity to do so.”
Jeongin nods. It’s reassuring to feel known by a friend in such a way. As much as he’s tried to set what happened with Daehyun behind him, it still hurts. “We’d been getting more serious. I had asked him to share my next heat, which I’ve never asked anyone to do before.”
Changbin whistles on an inhaled breath. “That’s a big step.”
Seungmin reaches over and takes Jeongin’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “What happened?”
Jeongin doesn’t want to make light of what happened, but he doesn’t want to dwell on it either. It’s in the past, he never wants to talk to Daehyun again, and he likely won’t ever need to. He’d thought that having known him for almost a year, that he could be trusted. He takes a deep breath. May as well get it over with. “I overheard him talking to his cousin. I’d gone to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and they were outside, standing by the open window. Daehyun was boasting that at long last, he was finally going to share a heat with me, and be able to ‘accidentally’ get me pregnant. He knows how religious I am, and was banking on me being eager to mate afterwards.”
The rumble of Changbin’s growl has Jeongin pause before he presses forward, his tone bitter. “It’s better I found out then, Changbin-hyung. I’m glad I overheard him, even if eavesdropping isn’t something a good omega’s meant to do.”
Perhaps that’s what hurts most. That in the ensuing fight after they’d left that night, Daehyun had tried to blame it all on Jeongin. It made Jeongin feel like he shouldn’t have bothered to be polite for the rest of the evening, acting as if nothing was wrong until they could talk about it privately. He’d hoped that Daehyun would apologise. It wouldn’t have changed the outcome; Jeongin was still going to break things off, but Daehyun had doubled down, talking about all the ways in which Jeongin was a bad omega. Too opinionated, too concerned with his career, and not eager enough to settle down and have a family. The vitriol in which Daehyun’s parting remarks had been made still resound in Jeongin’s memory, ‘It’s a shame you’re so pretty, but you can’t manage to be demure and obedient like a well bred omega should be.’
Jeongin refuses to settle. Perhaps that’s the problem. That no alpha out there is willing to stand by him, support him, and share his dream. He wants to teach, he wants to be in love, he wants a mate and children and he doesn’t want to give up any of those things to have the others. He wants it all.
It’s only as Changbin takes his other hand that Jeongin shudders a deep breath and the growing miasma of mouldy bread which surrounds him is pierced by cedar, smoke and leather, entwining in harmony with Seungmin’s old books and bergamot. The comfort and care of his friends provide the warm welcome Jeongin expects of a book filled study with a lit fireplace.
“Did he hurt you, Jeongin-ah?” Changbin’s voice is as gentle as the hand holding his.
Jeongin shakes his head. “No, he hurt my pride, lost my trust and respect. He broke my heart.” His lips twist wryly, as he tries for some levity in their conversation. “I wish he’d broken a bone instead. At least I have 206 of those.”
Seungmin blinks at Jeongin, as if he can’t believe what Jeongin had said. “You’ve been spending too much time with Minho-hyung.”
“Only Minho-hyung would find that funny,” Changbin agrees, rolling his eyes, ”Shall we have gelato for dessert?”
Maybe the comment did share more of Minho’s usual, but weird, sense of humour than Jeongin’s own irreverence.
Have they been spending too much time together? Dr. Park had indicated that pregnant omegas needed to be near their partners, and Minho is fulfilling that role for him, with things being as they are. So, Jeongin would say that they’re spending the right amount of time together. He can’t argue that they’ve grown more in tune with each other, and they are seeing each other more frequently than they did before. He frowns slightly at the thought, but the expression grows deeper as he sets aside the uneasy contemplation of spending less time with Minho and thinks through Changbin’s question. “I can’t. Gelato has uncooked eggs.”
“Sorry Jeongin-ah,” Changbin sounds rueful as he turns his eyes to the desert menu once more. “Tiramisu?”
“Hyung,” Seungmin protests, “too much caffeine isn’t good for pups.”
“Panna cotta with fresh fruit? That’s safe, right?”
Seungmin laughs. “Should be. It’s just fresh cooked cream with some gelatin.”
Jeongin gently squeezes his hyungs’ hands before he lets them go in favour of finishing his meal. “Panna cotta it is.”
As much as Jeongin had bemoaned his frustration about picking something to wear for their evening out, he’s ready to go when Minho knocks at his door. They could have met in the lobby, but this way, Minho can ensure that Jeongin has a scarf, and a hat, and his mittens, and hasn’t decided that fashion is more important than function. God help Minho if Jeongin wore some flimsy but fancy jacket rather than keeping himself warm.
Luck is with him, for when Jeongin opens the door, top to bottom, he’s decked out in winter apparel. Serviceable warm boots adorn his feet, and his long puffer jacket looks tighter about his waist, but Minho won’t be mentioning that. Jeongin’s knitted hat matches the mittens still in his pockets, as his hands are busy wrapping the scarf Minho had offered to him during their walk around his neck. Jeongin grabs his prized Alexander McQueen bag, a present from Yongbok who had pilfered it from a photoshoot, before closing the door behind him. He turns the knob to ensure it’s locked. “Ready to go, hyung?”
Minho steps closer to pull the mittens from Jeongin’s pockets and offers them to him. “Put these on, baby boy. It’s cold out there.”
Jeongin takes the mittens with a frown. “We’ve still got an elevator ride before we get outside. I’ll put them on before we leave the building.”
Is Minho fussing too much? Has he implied that Jeongin doesn’t know how to take care of himself? Has he overstepped? Minho glances at Jeongin as they walk towards the elevator and peers at his features, trying to discern how Jeongin might be feeling. He’s no longer frowning and his mittens are stuffed back into his pocket. Minho already makes the choice not to mention the mittens again. If Jeongin looks like he might be cold, then he’ll just take Jeongin’s hand and shove both their hands in his own pocket.
Descending in the elevator, Minho leans towards Jeongin so their shoulders can rub together. He hasn’t seen him since the night before, when they’d been sprawled out on the couch with cats curled up in their laps and watched anime after dinner. Minho spent the day running errands between playing taxi driver conveying Jeongin to and from work. It doesn’t really count as spending time together, too distracted by traffic and paying attention to the road to have a good conversation.
They were both already tired, but Jeongin had been excited about seeing this performance tonight. It was the largest venue 3RACHA had booked yet, and there were rumours of important figures in the music scene attending. This could be their breakthrough, and neither he, nor Jeongin, had wanted to miss such a pivotal moment for their friends.
“How are you feeling, Iyen-ah?”
“Tired. I wanted to take a nap earlier, but lunch didn’t sit well, so…” Jeongin’s voice trails off and he finishes off the thought with a shrug.
Minho frowns as he thinks of what he’d packed for Jeongin’s lunch. Had the tteokbokki been too spicy? Jeongin usually enjoys spicy food as much as he does, but with the pup, that could certainly change things. “We’ve got some time, so I’ll take the scenic route to the venue. You can pick some music, maybe get some rest on the way there?”
“I’ll try.”
Minho holds the door as they exit the building and Jeongin’s pulling on his mittens as he steps outside and heads towards the car. Minho flashes him a smile, glad that Jeongin will stay warm. He wishes his car had an automatic starter, so the car would be warm when they got to it, or had heated seats. Something he’ll have to consider when he buys his next car.
“Relax and try to get some rest, baby boy. Chan-hyung’s put us on the guest list, so we won’t have to wait to get inside, and there’s a VIP space waiting for us.” Minho had spoken with Chan about the venue when Jeongin had said he still wanted to go. Chan had agreed that they shouldn’t wait in the cold, and when he’d been informed of Jeongin’s sensitivity to scents since he’d started carrying a pup, Chan had worked with the venue to ensure the VIP space would section of a seated area for their use. Maybe he is fussing, but he wouldn’t say it’s too much.
“Alright.” Jeongin adjusts his seat so it leans back, and then closes his eyes with his arms laying over his stomach.
Ultimately, Minho doesn’t know if Jeongin was able to catch a nap during the trip. Glancing at him while waiting at red lights hadn’t provided any insight. Jeongin wasn’t snoring, but his eyes had remained closed. Hopefully, even if he wasn’t sleeping, it was a restful time for him.
Jeongin stirs as Minho parks the car. He sits up, then stretches, his hands forming fists within his mittens, and he yawns, not covering his mouth and then glances at Minho. “Sorry hyung.”
“For what? Did you not get some rest?”
“I didn’t plan on falling asleep. I’m a poor passenger, not keeping you company.”
Minho laughs and looks at him fondly, “I wanted you to sleep, baby boy.”
As he watches, Jeongin’s cheeks redden. “Oh, well, mission accomplished then.”
Minho is careful as they make their way to the venue. It’s been cold at night lately, and that can leave the roads and sidewalks icy. Having just woken up, Jeongin’s likely not to be as coordinated as usual, and even then, he’s often a little clumsy.
The line outside is long down the sidewalk, curving around the venue as they approach. When they offer their invitations, they’re quickly escorted inside. After checking their coats, Minho finds Jeongin’s wearing one of the new pants he’d recently purchased on the shopping trip with Jisung. A deep brown colour, and long enough in the leg to fit Jeongin. The colour matches well with the faded band t-shirt Jeongin’s wearing. Minho wonders if it will be warm enough, but with all the people waiting to get inside, it should be. If not, Jisung will probably have a hoodie Jeongin can borrow back in the green room.
Yongbok and Seungmin are already sitting in the VIP area when they arrive. They both pass when Minho offers to go get a round of drinks, but when he offers to get a ginger ale for Jeongin, he agrees. If Jeongin’s stomach is still not sitting right, then the ginger should help.
When he sets the glass on the table for Jeongin, Yongbok’s catching them up on how Chan, Changbin and Jisung just finished the sound check before they arrived. General admission will have the doors open in ten minutes, with the show starting twenty minutes later.
Shortly after the doors open, Hyunjin joins them in the VIP section, along with a date. Either Jisung hasn’t talked to Hyunjin since Minho last saw him, or that conversation went poorly and Jisung didn’t want to let Minho know.
While Hyunjin quickly introduces the petite woman, a few seconds later, Minho couldn’t recall what her name is if quizzed. It’s probably rude of him, but he’ll make sure to remember it should he be introduced to her a second time. At this point, Hyunjin rarely brings the same date to a second function.
This one, apparently, is someone Hyunjin met at a recent art exhibit. She’s classy, in an understated way, Her outfit is tailored and it fits her well, the skirt flowing with a nice drape. Her makeup subtly refines her features, a pert nose and rounded cheeks which resemble another friend of theirs who Minho will not be mentioning.
Of course, Yongbok is kind enough to be polite, trying to get to know her when they’ll likely never see her again. Which is why they’re now being regaled with stories about the artists, the art, and all the celebrities who chose to attend the opening. Hyunjin has ordered her a drink, and is filling in details here and there as she talks about the night they met, with his arm draped over the back of her chair, his fingers curved about her shoulder.
Looking across the table, Minho catches Jeongin’s gaze, and Jeongin’s lips twitch in amusement as he glances over at Hyunjin’s date and then shrugs. Minho, trying not to laugh, hides behind his glass of cola before taking a sip. If he’s not careful, Jeongin’s going to get him in trouble with Hyunjin.
The table jolts, and only swift action on Minho’s part to steady Jeongin’s glass saves them from a spill of ginger ale over the table. Jeongin’s slowly turning red as he stands next to the table, his hands moving about as if he doesn’t know if he should reach to try to catch something, or hold himself back because he’ll make things worse.
Minho lets go of the glass and reaches out to touch the back of Jeongin’s hand, “Something wrong, Jeongin?”
“No, I just meant to go to the washroom before the set started.”
Looking around the club, Minho can see how crowded it has become. He starts to rise from his chair as he makes his offer, “Did you want me to help you make your way there?”
Jeongin shakes his head, waving his hand in the direction opposite to where Minho’s noticed the washrooms. “It’s alright. VIP has its own. I’ll be fine.”
Minho settles back into the chair. He’d been worried about how Jeongin would fare throughout the evening as more people arrived and mingled, but the VIP section is everything Chan had claimed it would be. There was nothing to be concerned about, and they’d both be able to enjoy the evening.
Jeongin makes it back to the table as the lights are dimmed and Chan, Changbin and Jisung make their way on stage. Knowing how clumsy Jeongin can be, and the struggles of walking around in the dark, Minho gets up and pulls Jeongin’s chair out from the table for him so he can sit back down comfortably.
“Perfect timing, Jeongin-ah. They’re just about to get started.” Yongbok leans over to reassure him.
3RACHA dominates the venue’s small stage. Their opening piece is full of punchy and percussive lyrics, over a drill beat that Minho knows Chan worked hard to produce as the driving force of this track. Changbin’s raspy verse is followed by a smoother toned, but still as impactful, verse from Jisung. When Chan lays out the last verse, his rap is slower, but still spitting facts about the achievements and ambitions they have as a trio. The crowd is eating it up, energetically joining in on the chorus.
The next few songs have the same driving velocity to the lyrics. The crowd screams and yells, and the backing track is hard to hear, but Minho’s heard these songs before. He knows the lyrics as well as the rabid fans who chant along with Jisung as he kneels near the edge of the stage, or Chan as he spins or Changbin as he raises his hands encouraging the audience to get louder.
After the first ment, Chan wraps up greeting the crowd before they start off with some slower songs, letting the atmosphere in the club chill. 3RACHA does an upbeat song to get the audience swaying and moving again before Chan announces the first intermission and the house lights come back on.
The crowd packed around the stage disperses as people head off to get more drinks, go to the washroom, exit the venue to have a smoke or get some fresh air while the club’s usual music plays in the background.
Minho knows it’s been a long day for Jeongin. He’d driven them both to work that morning around seven. He’s also caught Jeongin attempting to hide a yawn here and there during the set, which mostly works, given his large hands.
Leaning closer so Jeongin can hear him over the music, Minho offers, “We can leave early if you want. Chan-hyung will understand if you’re feeling tired.”
Jeongin turns his head to look at him, and the tips of their noses almost brush. “I’m okay hyung. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll just sleep in.”
Minho blinks at him slowly. “You say that because I’m doing all the grocery shopping and you don’t have to run any errands.”
He tries to keep his expression neutral and blank as Jeongin nods but once and then smiles, full blast, eyes narrow and dimples forming deep indents into his cheeks. “You saw my note about bananas and ice cream?”
“Yes, hyung saw your note. And you’ll get your just barely still green bananas and cookies and cream ice cream.” Minho reaches out to rub Jeongin’s back. “You need anything now? Another ginger ale?”
“That’d be great. I’m thinking I should also go pee again while they’re on break.” Jeongin scrunches his nose. “So annoying.”
Minho laughs, “Alright. I’ll meet you back here with your drink.”
If he’d had to make his way into the club proper, waiting for the ginger ale likely would have consumed all the intermission, if not beyond it, but the VIP lounge makes it easy. They really need to insist that 3RACHA perform at more places with VIP seating. He’s back at the table, placing the ginger ale on a coaster well before Jeongin makes it back. Minho doesn’t bother to sit, knowing he’ll want to pull Jeongin’s seat out for him, helping him to get comfortable again.
As Jeongin’s sipping his ginger ale, Hyunjin’s date leans over the table to smile at them. Is her name Chaewon? Chaeyeon? Chaeryeong? Minho can’t remember and no one’s said it recently. His thoughts are derailed as she starts talking, “You’re so lucky, Jeongin-ssi. I wish I could meet an alpha that would take such good care of me. How long have you been together?”
Hyunjin starts laughing. Minho’s rushing to stabilise Jeongin’s glass to prevent the ginger ale from making the surface of the table a sticky mess. Jeongin’s eyes are wide as he looks at her, his face mottled, as if it can’t decide if he should be going pale or blushing. Minho can feel his ears going red, the edges warm with embarrassment.
“They’re not dating. Just good friends and neighbours.” Thank Yongbok for calmly setting things to rights. Seungmin uselessly joined Hyunjin in laughing.
Chaeyeon, Minho decides is her name, stumbles through an apology, “I’m so sorry. You mentioned a shopping list, and Minho-ssi has been so kind to order your drinks and help you get seated.”
Jeongin waves one hand to dismiss the apology while holding his other over his face shyly. “It’s alright Hyewon-ssi. I’m the maknae, so all the hyungs dote on me. It’s easy to misunderstand.”
Ah, that’s her name! At least Minho hadn't fumbled it. He’s feeling pretty good about that, but he doesn’t like the way Seungmin is looking at him across the table now, as if there’s some weight and meaning to Hyewon’s assessment. He decides to focus on Hyewon and Jeongin’s conversation instead.
Hyunjin has stopped laughing at least, and Minho’s wondering if he’ll pick up on Hyewon’s cues about offering to get her a drink, and being more attentive. Once the performance started, Hyunjin had all but ignored her. Things are looking hopeful as Hyunjin stands up, but then Minho notices that he’s pulling his chair out so Jisung can sit down because 3RACHA have come for a brief visit.
As he watches those at the table interact, he sees Hyewon’s eyes grow flinty as Hyunjin offers to get Jisung, and only Jisung, a drink. There is no way that Jisung spoke with Hyunjin. If he had, and it had gone poorly, they would be avoiding each other..
While Hyunjin’s off at the bar obtaining a glass of water, Hyewon rises from the table, apologises again to Minho and Jeongin, and states her intention to use the washroom during intermission. Minho notices she takes her purse with her, and while originally walking towards the VIP bathrooms, she swerves and leaves the venue.
Damn it. He’d just learnt her name.
It’s not until 3RACHA are running off for the next set and Hyunjin reclaims his own set, that he looks around the table and notices his date’s absence, “Where’s Chaewon?”
Jeongin does not look at all impressed with Hyunjin as he glares at him. “Hyewon-ssi,” he corrects Hyunjin, “likely went home because you ignored her the moment Jisung-hyung showed up, and you gave him all your attention instead.”
Hyunjin at least has the courtesy to look ashamed of himself. “Oh…”