Chapter Text
Jeongin trailed behind his brother, steps silent as they entered the church, his back a solid wall of safety for Jeongin to follow. He could hear people greet them, and Jeongin tried to bow in the right direction, feeling stiff, and uncomfortable in the black blazer his mother had gifted him last year for his birthday with the intention of him wearing it to church. He nodded at Father Kim, a pained smile on his face as the old man gave his Converse a sour look.
He had already had a fight about his footwear choices with his mom, so he wasn’t in the mood for the priest to scoff at him as well.
The holy water was cold as Jeongin dipped his fingers into the basin, the cross on his chest a familiar feeling as he followed his brother towards the confessional, where he ranted off his neverending list of sins seeking absolution with prayer and penance, before once more following his brother to the pews their family had long ago made theirs.
The church was quiet despite the many people. An awed hush had fallen upon the congregation as they let God fill them. Jeongin fit well into his place in the far corner, rosary already in his hands as he bent his head, praying his Hail Marys and Our Fathers to repent this week’s sins.
Even as he finished with his prayer he kept his head bent, pearls shifting through his fingers rhythmically. It was always easier to pretend to be praying than having to try and talk with the people around them, fending off questions about his studies, his hobbies - like Jeongin had any time for that - or, may the Lord have mercy, his shoe choices. Why God himself would be offended by a pair of Converse, Jeongin wasn’t sure about, but they were nice and thus he couldn’t see why God wouldn’t allow his feet comfort. He liked them, and Hyunjin had told him they looked nice the last time he wore them to Bible study.
Jeongin's stomach swooped oddly as he thought of the tall boy. He couldn’t help but lift his eyes, searching out the pews two rows up fully expecting to find the graceful neck of the familiar boy.
He frowned when he didn’t see anyone. This was the third Sunday in a row where Hyunjin hadn’t been to church. Worry twisted deep in Jeongin’s stomach. It wasn’t like the older boy to miss anything, least of all Sunday mass. Hyunjin had always been very devout, as was his family.
Hyunjin was perfect. He was the perfect student, the perfect mentor, head of one of the Bible study groups, member of the student council, top of the class, and popular with a hoard of friends and admirers that followed him wherever he went. And Jeongin understood them.
Hyunjin was beautiful.
He looked like an angel. Tall, graceful, lithe, and otherworldly. His smile could stop traffic and his laugh was like bells. Beautiful eyes, a regal nose, cheekbones so sharp, Jeongin was afraid that he would cut himself if he touched them. Not that Jeongin would ever get to touch him.
He couldn’t.
They weren’t friends. Not even close. They didn’t even belong to the same class at school, Hyunjin reigning over Class A, while Jeongin was hiding in a corner of Class B. To be honest, Hyunjin barely looked at Jeongin. They only talked if they had to, or if they happened to bump into each other in the hallways at school, or outside of the church. Sometimes, Jeongin made up silly questions to ask Hyunjin at Bible study just to hear his voice, calmly explaining the meaning of a verse. Jeongin would watch as those soft pillowy lips formed the words that he heard none of, too lost in his staring.
The love he had for Hyunjin was like a dark bruise on his heart. A forbidden sin Jeongin carried with him everywhere. Only in the dark of his room did he allow it to bloom, to fill his chest and make his blood sing. Only when he was on his own, him and God alone, did Jeongin allow himself to admit how much he loved Hyunjin.
Feeling his cheeks flush, Jeongin hurriedly looked away again, for once thankful as Father Kim started the mass, letting the familiar rituals wash over him.
It was always so much easier not to think. To not think about Hyunjin, or about how the mere thought of the other boy made Jeongin’s heart beat a mile a minute, and made his palms feel sweaty. He didn’t even dare let his thoughts drift to the few times he and Hyunjin had talked, and Jeongin had been nothing but a flustered mess.
Jeongin knew he shouldn’t feel this way. His love, no matter how pure, was a sin.
So, Jeongin didn’t think about any of it. Not a bit, because as long as he didn’t think, as long as he ignored it, he didn’t have to be a sinner. He didn’t have to be wrong. If Jeongin just remained as his mother’s good Catholic son he would still be good. Not perfect like his brother, but good.
And Jeongin so desperately wanted to be good.
He didn’t think during mass, just allowed the Father’s preaching to wash over him, singing along to the hymns and accepting communion, and finally, allowed the blessing to settle over him as it all came to an end.
It wasn’t until they were walking out to the parking lot, the cold autumn air washing away the fog the incense had left in his head, that Jeongin caught sight of Hyunjin’s parents that he once more wondered where their son was.
“Mom?” He asked, confused, as he saw old Mr. and Mrs. Kim gently walk up to Hyunjin’s parents, tears in old Mrs. Kim’s eyes as she hugged Mrs. Hwang. “Where is Hyunjin? I haven’t seen him in ages. Is he sick?” He added, dread settling in his stomach as tears welled up in his mother’s eyes.
“Oh, honey, I thought the school had told you,” she said, hand reaching out to tug a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Hyunjin passed away.”
Hyunjin… was dead? That couldn’t possibly be true, but his mother sounded so sincere, and her eyes reflected the pain that had fallen across Jeongin’s face.
Jeongin’s heart hadn’t been broken before. He had been lucky enough to never lose anyone he truly and genuinely loved while he was old enough to remember it. He had never felt the pain of death and grief.
In that second, it felt like his whole heart had been ripped out of his chest.
“D-dead?” Jeongin stuttered, breath leaving his lungs in short abrupt gasps. “What? How can he be dead?” He asked, hands shaking. He stuffed them in his pockets, out of sight like a secret.
“He got in an accident while he was in Seoul. His parents had him buried in their old church last week,” His mother’s eyes were kind. No doubt she thought her son was mourning a classmate. A distant friend. “It was very quick. He didn’t suffer, and the Lord has him now,” she added, hand stroking his cheek.
“Ho- How can he be dead?” Jeongin’s voice shook, his whole chest hurting. How could he not have known? How come people hadn’t talked about it at all, how… how could someone as bright and lovely as Hyunjin just be gone?
Jeongin didn’t even know he was crying, tears silently tumbling down his cheeks.
“The Lord moves in mysterious ways. He always takes his best children first,” his mother continued, eyes straying to where Mrs. Hwang was walking away, back straight and strong. “I'm sorry no one told you. I didn’t even know you were friends. Now, don’t cry, you silly child,” his mother sighed, pulling Jeongin closer.
Jeongin could only sob, the pieces of his broken heart seeping out of him and into his mother's shoulder as people gave him weary looks. He didn’t notice how his father and brother looked away, a frown on both their faces.
oOo
Forgive me, God, for I have sinned.
I can’t stop thinking of him. Even if he is with you, he still haunts my dreams.
Please release me from this trial.
I promise I won’t look at others like that again.
Please absolve me.
oOo
3 years later.
oOo
“Felix, I swear, if you’ve stolen my cardigan again I’ll hurt you,” Jeongin yelled, head halfway down his backpack. “I told you, I wanted to wear it today,” he grunted, pulling out a chemistry book and replacing it with his computer and the novel he was reading for Modern Literature.
“FU- rick,” Felix yelled, a loud noise following. “The books on the floor are mine. I'll clean up later,” Felix huffed, sounding out of breath, his head popping into Jeongin’s room. “Your cardigan was on the couch, Dummy,” He said, throwing the big red garment right at Jeongin’s face.
He caught it in the air, grimacing at Felix. “Next year, no 8 a.m. classes.”
“Agreed,” Felix said, disappearing back into the living room as he grabbed his stuff.
He and Jeongin eventually made it out the door, laughing and messing with each other as they raced down their stairs, as always, just barely out the door on time.
They ran to the bus, both enjoying the short trip to campus before they got off at the same spot - a rarity, as Jeongin usually had to go a few stops further to get to the science department. They didn’t split until Felix dragged his gym bag with him towards the dance studios and Jeongin continued towards the lecture halls.
“Lunch?” Felix called as he ran away, throwing a big grin over his shoulder. Jeongin could only laugh, smiling back as he replied affirmative, speeding up so he wasn’t late.
Every day, Jeongin thanked God for giving him Felix as his best friend. They had met on the first day of university, standing in the same group of strangers looking equally terrified. In the end, it had been the crosses hanging from both their necks that drew them close, a hesitant connection made over a shared religion.
Or almost shared.
Felix was Lutheran, and while their faith was similar, they weren’t the same. Yet, Felix understood why Jeongin was up early on a Sunday because he was too. He, too, prayed before eating, and when Jeongin sneaked out of a party because people were getting drunk, dumb, and handsy, Felix was usually right behind him his cheeks as pink as Jeongin’s.
They both took classes their parents wouldn’t like - Felix studied dance instead of political science, and Jeongin was sneaking in classes of literature and poetry between his obligatory classes for the degree in engineering that was slowly killing him. Both swore they would one day tell their parents off, and give up on their double degrees, knowing full well they would never do it, and end up with jobs they hated.
They had both lived sheltered lives with strict parents and were finally set free into the world, lost and curious. He and Felix were exactly the same.
It didn’t matter that Felix had grown up in Australia and that he always preferred pizza over jokbal. It didn’t matter that Jeongin didn’t dance, and had no idea if Felix was even any good or not. They both missed the sea of their hometown, even if they were miles apart. Both missed their siblings, both wanted to break out of their shells without truly daring to go against their upbringing.
In Felix, Jeongin found comfort and understanding.
Jeongin skipped up the steps, an odd excitement filling him as he neared his lecture hall. He had loved the book they had been assigned to read before the semester started, and he couldn’t wait to tear it apart in class. With a tug, he hid his crucifix under his shirt, shielding it away from some of the odd looks he knew would get sent his way otherwise.
Sinking into his seat, Jeongin smiled, glad that he for once wouldn’t be bored in class.
oOo
Jeongin strolled up to the dance studio knowing Felix would be late. The whole class was very dedicated, and it often took the next class chasing them out before they finally stopped practicing. Not that Jeongin cared. He was in a good mood, the rushed pace from the morning long gone as he allowed himself to take in the late summer air, enjoying that he was back in Seoul and wouldn’t have to deal with his parents for a few months.
It was freeing being away from it all. To smile and laugh and not be devoted to God all the time. To just live. To be a good Christian, but still with an open heart, ready to accept people who were not like him. Like Felix, who his parents didn’t like because he was a Lutheran, or that his old TA from his first year and now friend, Chan - oddly enough also Australian - who was agnostic.
It was nice knowing people who weren’t like him.
But more than anything, Jeongin was glad to be away from Father Kim and his silent disdain. Away from the hushed judgment and the congregation’s watching eyes.
He smiled as he reached the dance studios, seeing Felix running around and gathering his things in a rush through the big window. He waved at Minho - one of the older dance majors that Felix and Jeongin often hung out with - as he rushed past him to get to his next class. The older man threw him a cat-like smile, giving him a promise of making dinner for all of them later in the week over his shoulder as he ran off.
Jeongin could only smile, pulling out his phone to text Chan and let him know to keep his Friday free. Jeongin knew that the older man would hate to miss a ‘family’ dinner.
A few more students smiled at Jeongin as they made their way past him, and Jeongin felt a warm feeling settle under his ribs. He fit in more on this part of campus than he ever had on the other side amongst the engineering and chemistry students.
He was just putting his phone back in his pocket when he heard it; A voice so familiar it made Jeongin’s heart hurt with long-forgotten mourning. A voice full of everything Jeongin had once desired and had lost before he had even allowed himself a taste of it.
The voice was of the boy he had called his first love, the voice he had grieved over alone in the darkness of his childhood room. He hadn’t heard that voice in three years.
Feeling his face pale, while a mixture of trepidation and jubilation found a home in his stomach, Jeongin turned his head, somehow fully expecting to see him standing there smiling like he usually did. Of course, Jeongin didn’t find the boy his mind had tricked him into anticipating.
His eyes flickered all over the square, eyes flickering from one person to another, but he didn’t find the familiar dark hair, nor did he see anyone looking at him with those heartbreakingly beautiful eyes that still haunted his dreams.
Only a tall man with outgrown bleached hair, and big baggy workout clothing tugged weakly at Jeongin’s memory, but even from behind Jeongin could see the earrings dangling from his ears, dark lines hinting at a tattoo peeking out from where his shirt had slipped down his shoulder. He was holding a half-eaten apple in his hand, phone pressed to his ear.
Jeongin’s foolish heart dropped. Of course, Hyunjin wasn’t here. He was dead. Had been for three long years.
“Jeongin? Jeongin!” Felix was yelling in his ears, and Jeongin jumped as he returned to the present, the tall blond man disappearing into the crowd.
Jeongin’s heart hurt.
“Hey, what’s up, you look like you’re seen a ghost,” Felix asked, his worried voice finally breaking through the fog in Jeongin’s mind. “Are you getting sick?” He fussed, hands warm against Jeongin’s forehead.
“Sorry, I just saw someone I thought I knew,” Jeongin said, shaking his head before he forced a smile. “My head jumped to conclusions,” he added with a strained smile, his chest easing with each breath.
It wasn’t the first time Jeongin had fooled himself into thinking he was still alive.
“If you’re sure,” Felix asked, the worry never quite disappearing. “Come on, let’s go eat. You look like you need it. Did you even eat breakfast?” He muttered, his tiny hand taking a hold of Jeongin’s as he pulled him along forcefully towards the closest café.
“I did,” Jeongin replied, trying not to stumble. Anyone who ever underestimated the strength of Felix’s small body was a fool. He might look delicate, but, much like Chan, he was pure muscle. “And you should know since you stole half my toast,” he added with a smile that only got bigger when Felix glared at him over his shoulder.
“I bought the bread, therefore my toast,” Felix huffed, though it was hard to miss how he was struggling not to smile.
“My toaster, my bread,” Jeongin shot back, laughing when his friend hit his shoulder.
oOo
There were few things as calming as attending Sunday mass, to have God’s light fall upon oneself, and to have received the blessing of Christ through the Eucharist. Jeongin felt like a new person every Sunday, somehow resting in the knowledge that his sins had all been forgiven and that he was clean and pure in the eyes of God.
He wished the feeling would last longer than it did every week.
He smiled as he made his way to the bus stop, keeping a sedate pace as he tried to uphold the day of rest. He jumped a little as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, surprised when he saw it was his mom calling.
“Mom. Hi. What’s up?” He answered when he picked up, confusion tinting his words. “Shouldn’t you be having lunch soon?” It was unlike his parents to do much other than eat lunch and contemplate the word on Christ on Sundays after attending mass. His dad was very particular about keeping the day of rest sacred.
“Have you been to church?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. Jeongin frowned, looking back to where the big church tower of the cathedral hovered over the city, magnificent and threatening in its grandeur.
“Of course,” Jeongin replied. “I just finished. Why?”
“You only just finished mass?” She asked disapprovingly. “Why so late? We always attend mass early in the morning. Don’t tell me you’ve grown lazy with age.”
“I wanted to participate in the Latin mass today,” Jeongin defended himself. Sure, there was mass at ten, but he usually went for the later one at eleven-thirty. One, because it was an hour later, and he had to travel quite a bit to reach it, and two, he liked the Latin part. It also puts his forcefully learned Latin to the test. “You know I prefer the Latin mass. What is this even about?” He asked, leaning back against a pole as he kept watch for his bus. The sun was shining brightly, still, a good chunk of summer left.
“It… Father Kim mentioned something to me today, and I was worried,” his mother muttered, clearly trying to send remorse for doubting him. Except she wasn’t really succeeding. “And you know young people these days. They can’t wait to get away from their parents to sin.”
“Mom, I’m behaving according to the scriptures,” Jeongin said, trying to keep his voice respectful. He didn’t want to sin just after having been absolved. “You raised me well. I’m not abandoning my religion just because I moved to Seoul for a few years.”
“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t study in Busan like your brother,” his mother said, voice tight. Jeongin wanted to curse. The calm from the mass was long gone and he was left with only annoyance.
“Because this is one of the best universities in the whole of South Korea. It’s very hard to get in, Mom. You should be proud,” he said, trying hard to keep his voice even. Everyone else had been so impressed when he got into this university, but his parents remained firm in their displeasure. Busan was better than everywhere else. The closer he was to home, the further he was from sin.
“Of course, I’m proud,” his mother said in that voice that she used when she thought Jeongin was an attention-seeking little kid. “But Busan is good. You could live at home. Come with us to church. You'd be safe.”
“Mom, I'm perfectly safe here. I don’t know what Father Kim said, but I'm doing well here. I'm learning and growing. And going to church and attending Bible study every week,” Jeongin said, spotting the outline of his bus at the end of the long street. “Seoul is good to me. And I can’t live with you and dad forever. Even Jeonghwan moved out last year. I'm going to be fine.”
“You'd be better here,” his mother scoffed, the ‘ where I can see you ’ not as silent as she perhaps had hoped.
“I won’t stay here forever,” Jeongin said, words feeling like a lie as he said them. “Anyways, I have to go, the bus is here soon and I have to go to my friend’s place for lunch.”
“You’re going out? On a Sunday?” His mom questioned, voice getting loud enough that Jeongin could hear his father slam his Bible shut in the other room.
“I'm just having lunch, mom, sitting still while he cooks for me. I’d be working less than if I was at home. He just wanted to thank me for helping him with his project last week. I’ll be home early,” Jeongin tried to defend himself, knowing full well he couldn't save it. His parents were really odd about Sundays.
Jeongin had once been told off for laughing on a Sunday.
“You really should come home,” his mother said, voice tight before she said her goodbyes, barely giving Jeongin a chance to return them before she hung up, disappointment heavy in her words.
oOo
Dear God,
Please forgive my sins and lead me to salvation
I’ll try to make my parents happy
Just guide me and grant them patience
I know I am a sinful son
oOo
Jeongin groaned as he slumped over his books, feeling more helpless than usual. His whole head hurt and the numbers on the page were beginning to jump around like ants. His eyes drifted to the novel he was reading, a deep sigh of longing escaping him.
He was in a terrible mood.
“You sure you can’t just switch classes?” Jisung asked innocently, looking up from his stack of notes. They were scattered on Minho’s living room floor, some of them having traveled as far as over to Felix, who was asleep on top of his sociology book, while only Seungmin - also stuck with some of Jisung’s stray notes - actually looked like he was enjoying himself.
“My father will kill me,” Jeongin groaned into his book. “He’s already disappointed that I’m not going to the same school my brother did and that I haven’t become a doctor,”
“Isn’t your brother a lawyer?” Minho asked as he dropped down onto the floor next to Jeongin, gently tugging the book away from Felix so he was lying a bit more comfortable.
“He is,” Jeongin muttered into his book. “I was supposed to be a doctor and my little brother an engineer. I’ve messed up his grand plan by getting queasy at the sight of blood,” he sighed finally getting up from the floor, having already made his back ache from slouching over his book on the floor.
“Parents are weird,” Jisung said, shaking his head as he looked down at his own messy scrawl. “Like, I was blessed that my dad was in a rock band and accepted that I wanted to do music, but Channie’s parents almost disowned him when he traveled here.”
“Wasn’t just the choice of study material,” Chan interrupted as he walked into the room, stretching. A few joints popped and a sliver of his belly peaked out, forcing Jeongin to look away. Chan squeezed in next to Felix, his whole face softening when Felix sleepily nuzzled into him.
“But you’re perfect, Chan,” Jeongin sighed, sourly scowling at his physics homework. “You’re good at everything,” he added, deciding to just close the book.
“I doubt my parents will agree to that,” he said with a grin. “Thanks for letting me crash, Minho,” he added, smiling softly at the older boy.
“You know I like having you in my bed,” Minho leered, earning him a smack on the shoulder from Jeongin and a squeak from Jisung. Seungmin even gifted him a sharp look from over the top of his book.
Chan’s cheeks flushed pink.
“Anyways,” Chan said with a quick unsure look at Jeongin who was busy trying to escape Minho’s tickle retaliation attack. “Minho, would you mind if Bin brought one of our classmates from Music Composition on Friday?”
Minho looked up, intrigued.
“Has the Iron Bin been swooned by someone?” He asked with a smile, leaving Jeongin gasping on the floor. “Has someone finally broken through that dark icy heart of his? Will one of our children finally find love?” He added with a laugh, sticking his tongue out when Jisung bounced a ball of paper off his head.
“Sadly, no,” Chan says, eyes flickering to Felix who just looked back at him with a sharp look. Jisung smirked. “Jinnie’s just a friend. He doesn't really have a lot of friends and family, and well…”
“You’re planning to adopt him if he gets along with the rest of your kids,” Seungmin said calmly as if stating a fact, closing his book. He glanced up, looking every part like the professor in political science he was slowly becoming. “Does the poor guy know he’s auditioning as a kid?”
“I’m not adopting him,” Chan said defensively, pointing at Seungmin. “Binnie is,”
“Wait, Hyunjin?” Jisung asked, nose scrunching at the name. “Hyunjin from my class?”
Jeongin, who had just put away his physics book in his backpack, lost his balance and crashed back to the floor.
That name was haunting him.
“Innie?” Chan yelped, jumping up, making the half-awake Felix bounce as he rushed off the couch. “What happened?” Chan asked worriedly as both he and Minho began to fuss.
“Slipped on some paper,” Jeongin muttered, his ears feeling warm. He shook his head, gently pushing Minho and Chan off him. “Stop fussing, you mother hens,” he huffed, pouting as Minho messed with his hair. Seungmin just looked on in amusement, doing nothing to stop the two oldest from fussing over their youngest.
“But yeah, it’s that Hyunjin,” Chan said, looking back up at Jisung as he finally answered him. “That won’t be a problem, will it?” He added, voice a little tight. Jeongin looked at Jisung curiously as the other man hurried to look away.
“I suppose his singing has improved,” Jisung muttered sullenly, very interested in his notes again. “And the beat Binnie was talking about was pretty neat,” he said, pointedly not looking up at Chan’s grin.
“I assume this is the Grade A, pretty as fuck asshole who can’t rap to save his life?” Minho asked dryly, smiling when Jisung’s ears started to get red. “Or as you used to call him, the gorgeous asshat.”
“I take it you two didn’t get along?” Jeongin asked with a smile, finally shaking the last of his shock off. He needed to get over hearing that name. He was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
His Hyunjin had long since left this world, and Hyunjin was a pretty name so of course, others would be called that as well.
“Well, excuse me for not falling for his arrogant shit,” Jisung huffed, looking mildly offended. The red tinge to his cheeks revealed his embarrassment. “I just tried to help and Mr. Pretty Boy went sideways. Not my fault he pissed me off.”
“And the option of just leaving him alone wasn’t there, I take it,” Chan said with a smile.
“Anyways, Hyunjin has a crazy family. Heard a few things and… he’s got it bad… once you get over him looking like motherfucking Adonis. And, like, the man knows he’s pretty, okay. Don’t come for me getting mad when uses his charms to get out of not doing his parts on time,” Jisung said, looking a little like the words were forcefully pulled out of him. “He’s definitely gotten better. Terrible sense of humor, though,” he added under his breath.
“What’s up with his family?” Minho asked with a curious look.
“A bunch of assholes with no sense of reality. Apparently, they decided to kick him out because he wanted to do music and art, or some shit,” Jisung sighed, frowning a little. “He wrote some lyrics… the teacher showed us without Hyunjin quite agreeing to it, and like, if just half that shits true, then he deserves to be an asshole.”
Minho reached over the table to gently pat Jisung’s hand.
“That’s why he kept handing things in late,” Jisung muttered so quietly it was barely audible. “Because he had to work his ass off to support himself while studying. Kinda makes it difficult to stay mad.”
Chan sighed and Jeongin felt something odd at the mention of parents. His eyes found the tabletop, a dent pressed into the wood taking up all his focus.
“Well, good thing Binnie is making sure Chan adopts him then,” Minho said with a sigh. His free hand settled on Jeongin’s shoulders, pulling him close to his side. “What would you like to eat on Friday, my little Innie?” Minho asked, leaning into Jeongin’s side.
“Galbi gui,” Jeongin said, pretending to struggle in Minho’s hold as he leaned closer. “Kongnamul and gyeran-mari.”
“And Kimchi Jjigae,” Seungmin added with an air of finality. Minho huffed, muttering about why no other soups were allowed.
Jeongin allowed the others to yell and goof around, Chan launching back on the couch with Felix pressed to his side. He looked over them, feeling something soft flutter in his chest. He wondered if this was how other people felt with their family, or if Jeongin just wasn’t perfect enough to fit in with his own, because he had never felt more at home than he did now, sitting on the floor of an old apartment, noise, and chaos all around him.
Perhaps Jeongin should break his mother’s heart and get a job in Seoul. Actually move away from Busan and settle here with his litter of strays. Finally get away from the congregation and the memories.
Finally get away from the ghost of his Hyunjin.
Jeongin leaned back, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. He had to stop thinking of the dead boy. He really had to. They had barely known each other, and Jeongin hated how the loss of the boy felt like a piece of himself had been lost as well.
Ever since the other day the dreams had been back.
He guessed he owed Hyunjin a lot. Whenever Jeongin’s faith wavered, whenever his eyes would drift to places he shouldn’t look when boys made his cheeks pink and his heart sped up, he would think of the boy, and no one, not a single soul, was as beautiful as Hyunjin had been.
Their eyes weren’t as charming, their smiles not nearly as alluring, their voice rough and raspy compared to his calm melodious one. They might have made Jeongin’s heart beat faster but they never made it race like Hyunjin had. They never made him feel so much like Icarus aiming straight for the sky.
It was so much easier to ignore. So much easier to hide that dark stain on him because if it wasn’t Hyunjin, then it wasn’t worth damnation.
For Jeongin it had never been this easy to forget his sinful side because the only one truly able to take him away from the righteous path of God had been Hyunjin. Jeongin could never let go of the love he had for the dead boy. He clung to it, held it pressed tightly against his heart.
If Jeongin loved a dead boy with pure affection, then he couldn’t taint someone alive with his sinful desire.
oOo
Forgive me, Father
I dreamt of him again.
I try not to…
I miss him. I don't know if that’s a sin
I’ll try and do better
Please, just let me forget him
Let him have peace from my impure love
oOo
Jeongin slipped into the seat of his physics lecture, a headache already building. He hated physics, but to become an engineer he kind of needed it at an advanced level. It wasn’t that Jeongin was bad at it. The hard course material his mother had forced on him at a young age had taught him that everything was a challenge, and even if things didn’t come easily, there were few things Jeongin couldn’t teach himself. Starting in high school, after having been homeschooled his whole life, had also shown him that he was more than just a little clever. Entering university had been a relief because suddenly things were at the level he was used to reading.
He still hated how much time he had to spend making this course understandable though. It took time away from his novels. He sighed, looking up, and upon seeing the professor wasn’t there he reached into his bag and pulled out the latest novel he was in the middle of reading.
Within seconds he was lost in the words on the pages, swept into the life of the protagonist who was nothing like Jeongin, free and untroubled as he drifted through life. Jeongin so desperately longed to feel the same kind of freedom, a taste of impertinence he himself would never get to experience.
A pencil making its way between his ribs made Jeongin jump, startled to see the professor beginning to start his lecture. He looked to the side, catching sight of Yedam, a fellow engineering student, smirking knowingly.
When their eyes met, Yedam’s smirk shifted to a smile as he winked in a friendly way, before turning his head to look at the PowerPoint the lecturer was starting to rant about. With a quiet sigh, Jeongin closed his book, feeling his cheeks flush - and not just from embarrassment.
His eyes strayed to where Yedam’s elegant hands were hovering over his keyboard, long fingers picking at the keys like a musician. Feeling his cheeks blush even more, Jeongin forced his eyes away, shame licking at him like the fire from hell.
Sinner , his head hissed at him, and in redemption, Jeongin buried his head in his physics book, his hands flying like a bird over the pages as he added notes. If he just worked hard enough all the thoughts would go away.
Jeongin wouldn’t fall into temptation.
oOo
Jeongin heaved a sigh of relief as he finally escaped his physics lecture. The fresh air was like a gentle hand on his aching head as he hurried down the steps of the building, thinking of one thing only; Coffee.
Jeongin wasn’t allowed to drink coffee. His mother found it a terrible habit, and the fear of any of her kids becoming addicted to anything, but good Christian faith, irked her endlessly. Thankfully, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and as she knew nothing of Jisung, she most certainly didn’t need to know how he had gotten Jeongin hooked on coffee.
Unlike Jisung, Jeongin did prefer to sweeten up his coffee a little and would usually have them add milk.
The only good thing about Jeongin’s physics lecture was that it was right next to the music department, meaning Jeongin could go just a little further and enjoy his coffee in the artsier - and in his opinion, much better - café Jisung himself frequented. It was like a breath of fresh air as Jeongin pushed the door open, a barista with a wild haircut smiling at him as soon as she saw him.
He had been there enough for most of the staff to recognize him, which wasn’t a wonder because he went there with Jisung, Chan, and Changbin often, and, well, it was hard going anywhere with any of them and not be noticed. Changbin was a little loud… and Jisung was a terrible enabler.
“A double shot latte, as big as it can get,” Jeongin ordered with a pained smile. The girl gave him a kind and pitiful look as she accepted his payment, pointing to the waiting area at the other end of the counter.
Jeongin made his way over, trying to be as quiet and invisible as he could. Now that he didn’t have the others with him, he felt a little out of place in his plain jeans and tucked-in polo. He couldn’t help but look at the others around them, taking in the colorful and fashionable attire most of them wore.
Jeongin sighed in jealousy. Even if he wanted to dress differently, he knew he would look like a moron if he tried to wear one of Changbin’s leather jackets. He was too plain to even try something outside of his ordinary style.
Leaning against the counter, Jeongin followed the girl with his eyes as she accepted another order, his cup waiting patiently for its turn to be filled. He allowed his eyes to travel around the room a bit, briefly lingering on the bright red apples in the fruit bowl before moving on, his gaze eventually landed on a guy sitting at the table next to him.
His back was turned, a big pair of earphones covering most of his head as his fingers flew over his keys, a clicking of on and off that got more and more frustrated. A big apple was next to his computer, matching the ones from the fruit bowl.
Jeoungin blinked, hands getting a little warm as he continued to stare at the guy mindlessly. His hair was dyed blond, but it has grown out a bit leaving him stranded somewhere halfway between the two colors. Sometimes the man would tilt his head, the little ponytail he had messily pulled his hair into bouncing happily along.
Jeongin wanted to touch it, to feel the blond strands. To know if they were soft.
A leather jacket hung over the back of the chair, leaving a pair of pale arms sticking out from a worn paint spotted t-shirt that looked like it was more distressed from wear than fashion. The light cast shadows on the soft skin, highlighting the toned muscles that went taut and relaxed with every movement.
Jeongin’s fingers twitched, both with the need to touch and the unquenchable need to write.
This man, even from the back, was deserving of sonnets and novels, of whole worlds built around him, of empires and silent forests, of reckless love and deep, and never-ending devotion.
Jeongin’s heart beat fast in his chest, breath stuttering out of him. He took a step, drawn in like a moth to a flame. A silent hi , an excuse of his jacket having fallen or anything was forming in his head. Because somehow, Jeongin just knew he had to speak to this man. Jeongin needed to see his face, see his eyes and hear his voice.
Millions of fictional scenarios rushed through Jeongin’s head, hopes and dreams, a deep-seated desire to reach out, and -
“A large latte, double shot,” the barista’s voice cut through Jeongin’s thoughts like a knife. He jumped, startled eyes finding the cup pushed gently towards him. He blinked, looking up to meet the eyes of the girl with the artfully messy hair. Her eyes flickered to the boy with the blond hair, a knowing smile growing on her face as she winked at Jeongin.
Shame filled him like poison.
“Thank you,” Jeongin forced out, feeling his face pale as his whole body grew cold. He had originally thought about drinking most of his coffee at the café and then taking the other half with him to the library to study, but suddenly he couldn’t stand being there a second longer.
With a last look at the girl, he fled out the door, almost getting his bag trapped in the door. He didn’t see the blond guy looking up, his confused eyes following Jeongin’s running shape until he turned around a building.
oOo
Dear God,
Please make it stop
Please set me free and protect me from sin
I didn’t mean it… I really didn’t
He was…He was just pretty
I’ll be good, please, I promise I’ll be good
oOo
Jeongin rushed up the stairs, the air rushing in and out of his lungs so fast he could barely keep up. He skipped up the steps, silently regretting that his legs weren’t longer. It was a sin to curse at people, but if Jeongin could, he would curse the leader of the Bible study at his church.
They had agreed to be done before 4 p.m.
Spoiler alert, they hadn’t been.
No, because as usual Hangyeol just had to sit down and start one of his ‘discussions’ which meant a long monologue about the temptations of the world, why women were slowly being tempted into satanism through the modern workforce, and whatever nonsense he had come up with.
Jeongin had given up listening to him ages ago.
Once he was finally done spouting nonsense, Seojin, the pretty girl who had started in the bible study group along with Jeongin, had asked him to follow her to the bus. It had only taken a look at Hangyeol moving closer to make him offer his arm to the poor girl.
He knew Hangyeol wanted to court Seojin, they all did. And really, letting an innocent girl fall into that man’s hands would be close to a cardinal sin. And so, Jeongin was even more delayed.
As it was, thankfully he and Seojin had to go to the same bus stop and he had talked with her happily until she had to get on. Jeongin couldn’t help but stare at her as she got off the bus, a sick feeling filling him. He knew he should like her more than he did. She would be perfect, his dad would accept her, his mom would adore her, and his brothers would be appropriately jealous… but Jeongin just wanted to run away.
He felt nothing but fear and despair when thinking about marriage… and girls.
Jeongin shook his head, forcing himself to focus as he finally reached Minho’s door. He barely had to knock before Felix tore the door open, smiling brightly as he dragged Jeongin into the living room. Jeongin somehow managed to kick off his shoes, before he ended up being presented in front of the crowd assembled inside the cozy room.
“Look, he survived yet another church meeting, my friends,” he grinned, shoving Jeongin down onto the dingy couch.
“I'm sorry I’m late,” Jeongin wheezed out, collapsing completely into the mismatched pillows. Seungmin handed him a glass of water before he sat down elegantly next to Felix, smiling kindly at Jeongin.
“It’s fine,” Minho said from inside his kitchen, voice filled with a cheeky smile. Jeongin tried to smile gratefully at Seungmin over the rim of his glass as he drained it in one go, leaving it empty on the table.
He gave the wine glass belonging to Seungmin a curious look. Jeongin wasn’t allowed to drink, so his curiosity would have to remain just that.
“Our musical idiots have forgotten time as well, so you’re far from the last one to show up,” Seungmin said with a huff. Jeongin pulled out his phone, frowning as he looked at the clock. They had planned to meet up at five… it was currently a little past six.
“Oh,” Jeongin blinked, looking up at the others who just shrugged.
“You know how they are,” Felix said cheerfully as always. Jeongin had to nod in agreement. The three music students did have a bad habit of losing time when they were in the studio.
“I don’t expect to see them before seven,” Minho said, walking in and putting a few bags of snacks on the table. He dropped unceremoniously into the seat next to Jeongin, his arm wrapping around his shoulder. “We’re like the abandoned wives club.”
“And who am I married to?” Seungmin asked with a lifted eyebrow. His eyes strayed to Jeongin who just smiled at him, rolling his eyes at Minho’s antics. Thankfully Jeongin wasn't in love with any of his friends.
He at least got to live without that cliché.
“Jisung,” Felix answered with a laugh when Seungmin almost choked on air at his words. “Chan is obviously Minho’s. He basically lives here.”
“And you take Binnie,” Minho asked, voice dripping with sweetness. Felix’s cheeks got all pink and Jeongin couldn’t help but look at his friend a little confused. “You’re perfect for each other.”
“We are not,” Felix muttered, eyes flickering away as he buried himself in Seungmin’s side.
“And I'm the sad single friend?” Jeongin asked with playfully affronted, lips pursing into an exaggerated pout. “How mean.”
“You can have Jisung,” Seungmin said with his usual calm, a devilish glimmer in his eyes. “Or even better-”
“- the new guy,” Minho finished for him, a smile matching the evil glint in Seungmin’s eyes spreading on his face. “We are four perfect couples. It must be fate.”
In the narrow hallway, the door banged open just as Felix was about to say something. Chan jumped in on one leg, as he tried to take his shoes off without falling. “We’re so fucking late, sorry,” he said, tumbling into the room. Minho couldn’t hold back his laughter and neither could Seungmin.
“Did we miss anything?” Jisung asked as his head poked through the door, followed by Changbin.
“We were just talking about how you, our dear husbands, had abandoned us,” Minho grinned. Chan fell to the floor, looking up at Minho with huge eyes. “Felix was just about to suggest that he and Seungmin eloped since neither you nor Changbin was here,” he said to Jisung.
“My Lix would never leave me,” Changbin said, catching up to Minho’s joke faster than the others and made a kissy face at Felix who got completely red-faced. “Though I understand Seungmin. If I was married to Jisung, I’d run too,” he added with a grin, jumping away before Jisung could get ahold of him.
“Hmm, luckily for Chan he’s too handsome to leave,” Minho smirked, eyes settling on Chan who looked like he was choking. Jeongin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Sometimes Chan made it too easy for Minho to tease him.
“You left Innie single,” Chan said with a cough. He settled on the floor, clearly pretending he had always intended to sit there.
“No, we married him off to the new guy,” Seungmin said with a wink at Jeongin.
“Changbin,” a soft velvety voice said from the door. “You could have mentioned you had already arranged my marriage.”
Jeongin’s heart stopped in his chest at the sound.
“I would have dressed better if I knew I was meeting my husband-to-be,” the newcomer said as he stepped through the door.
The stranger was tall, with long lithe limbs stretching on forever, perfect to wrap someone up in a tight hug. He was dressed in a paint-splattered black t-shirt and black jeans distressed to the point of indecency. His mesmerizing eyes were drawn up with eyeliner, making them even more strikingly lethal as he leaned against the door frame, a hand drifting through his shoulder-length blonde hair.
His nails were black, and a tattoo peeked out from the collar of his shirt. His plump red-painted lips were stretched out in a sinful smile.
Jeongin’s world stopped, his heart skipping several beats as he just stared.
“Everyone,” Changbin said, his voice sounding far away in Jeongin’s ears. “Meet Hyunjin.”