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The first time Seungmin met Changbin, he didn’t know him as Changbin. He knew him as the friend of the guy that Felix was dating. The friend of the guy that Hyunjin was obsessing over. Changbin was less Changbin and more a vaguely man-shaped shadow known as ‘friend of’. Seungmin was fine with that. He wasn’t meeting Changbin to form a lifelong bond, he was meeting Changbin so that Felix felt less awkward about meeting Chan’s friends, and so that Hyunjin didn’t look so pathetic when he was inevitably forced to sit next to Jeongin, who remained sweetly oblivious to the fact he had Hyunjin eating out of his hands.
So Seungmin met Changbin not out of interest, or eagerness, or anything other than an obligation to people that would have whined and sulked until he agreed to do it anyway. Changbin was a friend of, but so was Seungmin. He was the friend of. The only friend of that would turn up to drinks just to entertain someone he’d never met so that his friends could get rawed in a public bathroom. He wondered, briefly, as he ordered a beer, if they’d take turns. Surely neighbouring cubicles would be a little awkward, especially with how loud Felix could be. How vocal Hyunjin was. Seungmin blinked down at his beer and tried not to retch at the thought.
By the time he’d returned to the table, Changbin had arrived.
Seungmin’s first thought was, he’s short.
His second thought was, he’s fucking beefy.
His third was ten minutes later, when the obligatory conversation had begun, and Felix was giggling at whatever Chan was saying, Hyunjin staring at Jeongin like he was going to eat him whole. Seungmin was listening to Changbin talk about their mutual sacrifice – an evening of peace exchanged for happy friends.
His third thought was, he’s lovely.
Changbin’s hair was dark and curled, falling into his eyes just enough that he had to blink it away periodically. He’d arrived in a leather jacket, but removed it minutes in, already a sheen on his neck from the temperature of the bar and the complete lack of personal space. His shirt, plain cotton, was a little too tight. His biceps were a little too wide. Seungmin’s mouth was a little too dry.
Worse, unfairly so, was Changbin’s genuinely sweet personality. He listened well, laughed freely, and tried his best to relate to even the most outlandish topics. When he smiled widely his face scrunched up. His thighs were twice the size of Seungmin’s. He made music with Chan. His voice was low and steady, a little gritty when he got loud and excited about something. He had delicate fingers, wide, strong palms.
Two hours later, when Chan and Felix were using their allotted time in the bar’s bathroom, when Jeongin was trying to buy a drink at the bar and Hyunjin was insisting on paying for it, Seungmin took Changbin back to his apartment, dropped to his knees, and abused his throat so that the beautiful friend of would never forget his name.
-
The next time Seungmin saw Changbin for longer than a silent, loaded glance, it was at a wedding a year after they met. In a tux that was slightly too tight, Seungmin walked his mother down the aisle towards her new husband. At the end of the aisle, Changbin stood, ready to give his father the rings.
Another silent, loaded glance was exchanged as their parents spoke their vows.
At the reception, after they’d been formally introduced, Seungmin took himself to the open bar and drank so much that he forgot his own name, never mind the fact that his mother was now a Seo and Changbin was technically his stepbrother.
When he emptied his stomach into the toilet the following morning, he could blame it on the booze.
-
It was a whirlwind romance, apparently. Changbin nodded, listening to Seungmin’s mother describe how she’d met his father at a restaurant. She’d forgotten her purse. He’d offered to pay.
Seungmin didn’t want to ruin the wedding’s afterglow by admitting that it was a tried-and-true technique of hers, to see if a man had money and was willing to spend it on her. He stared at his eggs and wanted to place his forehead on a toilet seat, then ask someone to slam the lid down on the back of his head.
“It’s been difficult since Seungmin’s father passed,” his mother said, linking their fingers together. “He took it hard, and it was difficult raising him alone.”
He wanted to leave, but he nodded at his eggs. She hadn’t raised him alone, not really. She hadn't raised him at all.
“You’re a strong woman,” Changbin said. He sounded earnest. “I’m glad that dad has found someone so capable.”
“And I’m glad that my Seungmin will have a brother figure,” she said, sounding just as genuine. It was more nauseating than the white lies. “You’ll look out for him, won’t you, Changbin?”
“Are you forgetting I’m twenty-three?” Seungmin asked. The eggs didn’t reply.
Unfortunately, his mother did. “You’re still my baby, and you know I worry.”
“About what? The economy? You should worry.”
“You never tell me about your life! I worry about your safety and happiness! I worry that you’re not sleeping, that you’ve picked another rotten boyfriend that doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, that you haven’t been buying vegetables like you promised me you would every single week –“
Changbin’s father was at least half as perceptive as his son, because he took one look at whatever Seungmin’s face was doing before gently steering the conversation back to lighter topics. “I hope you leave your worries behind for the honeymoon, darling. A beautiful beach is no place to be stressed.”
She melted at the mention of the vacation. Seungmin felt sick from a combination of anger and sadness. Why was she acting like his mom now? It was a decade too late, and knowing it was an act to impress her new family made it cut deeper, because so suddenly it was clear that she knew how she should have acted over the years. She’d just decided not to do it.
He waved their cab away later that morning, en route to the airport for wherever their honeymoon was. White beaches, stress free, apparently. Seungmin didn’t even know which continent they’d be on.
“Seems a little rushed, doesn’t it?” Changbin asked from beside Seungmin’s left shoulder. “They were only engaged for two months. I didn’t even know she had kids until dad told me you’d be walking her down the aisle.”
“I give it nine months,” Seungmin replied, eyes on the retreating car.
“Did you know?” He sounded curious. Not condemning, which was maybe what Seungmin deserved. “Is that why you-“
“No, Changbin, I didn’t know.”
“Ah. Okay.”
“I’m going to raid the mini fridges for whatever alcohol I can find,” Seungmin said, turning away from the door. “See you later.”
He felt Changbin’s eyes on his back as he made his way back into the heart of the hotel. Despite his words, he returned to his own room and packed up his bag, his wrinkled suit. He saw his father’s watch on the nightstand, and wondered when he’d find the strength to wear it instead of carrying it everywhere, only for it to sit and watch as he fucked everything up again and again.
-
“So you’re brothers now?” Jisung asked. “No fair, I want Changbin to be my brother.”
“You can say that,” Seungmin replied. “You’ve always had that kind of bond with him.”
“And he’s never fucked Jisung raw,” Minho supplied unhelpfully.
“He didn’t fuck me raw," Seungmin said.
“You said he came on your face!”
“He took the condom off to do it, obviously.”
“And now he’s your brother.”
“Our parents being married for however long this lasts doesn’t mean we’re related, but I appreciate the fact that you’re trying to make me feel gross. Really, my heart is warm.”
Minho smiled in that smug, eyebrows-raised way of his. “Any time. Making you feel gross is one of my greatest passions.”
Seungmin sighed and turned back to the huge TV that dominated the wall of Jisung’s lounge. While it was usually playing cat videos on loop, they’d made an exception to watch a movie with Seungmin, though he was starting to regret accepting the invitation. Forty minutes in and he had no fucking idea what the movie was about. All he knew was that there was a photograph below the TV, at least five years old. Jisung and Changbin stared at the camera, grinning so wide that they looked a little dumb. They were young and slightly too skinny. It felt strange to know that Changbin’s eyes had always been so kind. It felt wrong to know it.
He shouldn’t have come. He knew that Jisung and Changbin went way back, but he’d thought that since Minho had moved in it would be easier to ignore. That all of Jisung’s photographs would be replaced with expensive shots of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori.
In fairness, most of them had been. Beside the photograph of Changbin and Jisung, there was an admittedly beautifully shot photograph of Dori dressed as a dinosaur. Seungmin stared at younger-Changbin and when Minho asked, “Are you yearning?”
Seungmin replied, “I’m wondering how you got a cat into that stupid costume.”
-
“How’s life going?” Ryujin asked from Seungmin’s phone screen. She was making pasta very badly as they talked. Countries apart, and Seungmin could still tell that her meal was going to taste like shit. “Are you still avoiding that guy you were mooning over?”
“He’s my stepbrother now.”
The arm with the spatula spasmed, and a single penne went flying across Ryujin’s temporary kitchen. “Are you joking?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Seungmin, maybe you should call your therapist again.”
“Maybe I should,” he agreed. “It’s pretty fucked up.”
-
“Your face,” Changbin had said that night. “I’ve never – I think you’re the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen. Jesus.”
“Are you saying that because you just shot a load all over it?” Seungmin asked, still scrubbing with a damp washcloth.
“No,” Changbin said. He took the washcloth from Seungmin’s hands, frowning. “You’re being too rough, stop that.” He started cleaning Seungmin’s face, admittedly more gently. It was weird to see the cloth come away covered in cum and glitter that had melted down his face as Changbin had fucked him from behind, hard enough that Seungmin’s left hamstring was still cramping intermittently.
“Dude,” Seungmin said, monotone, “Looks like you have vampire come.”
Changbin peered down at the cloth, confused until he saw the glitter. Then he giggled, alarmingly cute. “Never had a grown man make a Twilight reference in my bed before.”
“On your bed,” Seungmin corrected, pointing to the sheets he was sitting atop. He was already thinking about sucking Changbin’s cock again. The noises Changbin had made were circling his head, disorienting him like a thick fog. Either that or Changbin had pulled his hair hard enough to concuss him.
Changbin laughed again, though Seungmin was sure he wasn’t actually that funny. Then, when he stopped laughing, he put the cloth to Seungmin’s face again and wiped away the remaining traces of come. Like he’d never been there at all. “Will you stay?” Changbin asked.
Seungmin wanted to. Oddly, he wanted to wriggle his way beneath the sheets, and put his ear against Changbin’s chest and listen to his heartbeat. Maybe motorboat him a little. “No,” he said.
-
He never held it against Seungmin, which was kind of the bare minimum, but in comparison to previous flings, it was still a pleasant surprise. The fact that their friendship group seemed to merge immediately after Seungmin rejected Changbin was unfortunate, but Changbin didn’t change at all.
He was still lovely. He still sat near Seungmin whenever they gathered, and he still laughed with him. Asked about his life with the tone of someone that wasn’t just trying to be polite. Didn’t give up when Seungmin’s answers were either too perplexing to make sense or too short to keep a conversation going.
It churned Seungmin up inside, making him regret things he’d done, regret the things he hadn’t done. It would have been easier if Changbin took rejection badly, if he’d become an asshole. It would have been easier if he were someone else.
“You clearly like him,” Hyunjin huffed, annoyed. His superiority complex was fresh off the back of finally getting fucked by Jeongin, who was pink around the neck at the other side of the restaurant table, nodding along to something Jisung was saying. “He clearly likes you back. I don’t see what the issue is.”
-
“You should have made a move when you had the chance,” Hyunjin said, months later. One month after the wedding. “Now it’s too late.”
“That makes it easier,” Seungmin admitted, for some unknown fucking reason.
“Makes what easier?”
Now I have a legitimate reason to be so scared of liking him, he didn’t say. “Winning.”
Hyunjin scowled. “Winning what?”
“The title of most virtuous friend.”
“Virtuous?” Hyunjin’s eyes seemed to boggle out of his head. “Just because you don’t get fucked as often doesn’t mean you’re virtuous. Jeongin told me what you used to do with that guy that had the parakeet.”
Those were secrets he didn’t want circling. Jeongin knew that. “What exactly did he tell you?” Seungmin asked. “But I guess you’re right. Murder certainly isn’t virtuous. Maybe I won’t be winning that title after all.”
“You can’t kill him! It took me like a year to get him to fuck me, I need him alive!”
“You’re so picky. If you really cared, you’d love him either way.”
Hyunjin squawked, then smacked Seungmin with a frankly startling amount of strength compared to his typical limp-wristed fury.
-
“Your mom called me yesterday.”
“Oh?” Seungmin asked, not wanting Changbin to elaborate. They were getting pizza at Chan’s apartment. Minho and Felix were playing Mario Kart. They were both screaming. If only they were slightly louder, so that Seungmin could have pretended not to hear Changbin.
“Her car broke down, and dad’s out of the country for work. She just wanted to know if I could pick her up from her friend’s house.”
“That’s what taxis are for.”
“I was nearby. It wasn’t an issue.”
Something ugly threatened to crawl up his throat and hurt Changbin in a way he didn’t deserve to be hurt. “Don’t let her take advantage of your kindness,” Seungmin settled on saying, as evenly as possible. “If you let her, she will.”
“She said she’s lonely. I think she misses you more than she lets on.”
Seungmin stood up, rigid, suddenly so tired of the conversation. He'd had it before with multiple men, some that he'd cared about, some that he hadn't. It always grated against his skin the same. “Strange that she’d tell you that and not me,” he said. “It’s almost like she enjoys the illusion of being a good, neglected mother.”
Changbin was frowning from the couch, but it was a concerned kind of expression. “If I overstepped-“
“You didn’t,” Seungmin said. “But she will. Next time she calls, it’ll be to ask for something else. Don’t pick up.”
He wandered through to the kitchen, waiting until he was sure that Changbin had stopped staring after him. Only then did he slip out of the door and walk home.
At his small, plain apartment, the lights were off. It was cold. Seungmin’s hair smelled of pizza grease, but he still had traces of Changbin’s cologne haunting him, woodsy. Comforting.
He scrubbed himself in the shower, then bleached his bangs a startling blonde.
-
“Cute,” Changbin said, reaching over to tug gently on Seungmin's hair.
Seungmin wanted Changbin to reach over and kiss him instead. He wanted to be held. He wanted his head crushed between Changbin’s thighs. “I wish I’d shaved all of it off.”
“You’d still be cute.”
He looked away and tried not to want Changbin with his entire being. It was difficult. It was rare that he met a man that radiated security in the way Changbin did. Safety. Home.
“Are you going to the dinner next month?”
“What dinner?”
“Their six-month anniversary.”
What a way to ruin the mood. “Are you going?”
Changbin shrugged, ears pink. “I mean, my dad really wants me to, so I probably will.”
“Would it be awkward with just the three of you?”
“Probably.” With his ears still pink and his eyes still earnest, he said, “Don’t let that influence your decision though. If you don’t want to go then don’t go. You have to do what’s right for you.”
Seungmin swallowed and tried for his usual blank humour. “You’re acting like it’s a death sentence instead of a meal.”
“I don’t really understand the relationship you have with your mother,” Changbin admitted. “So I’m not going to judge you. If it’s closer to death than a meal for you, then that’s how it is. Do what you have to do.”
-
“I knew you’d come!” his mother gushed, pulling him into a hug and leaving a powder pink lipstick stain on his cheek. “Oh, I knew Changbin would be a good influence! I always wished I’d had more kids; you’ve needed that socialisation!”
The ugly thing rose into the back of his throat again. Changbin was watching him, somewhere between chagrined, pleased, and concerned. Seungmin patted his mother’s shoulder and pulled back so that he could wipe the lipstick away. “Congrats on six months.”
“Thank you!” she said, looking surprisingly, genuinely pleased.
The dinner was fine. Seungmin sat beside Changbin and tried valiantly not to look at his thighs and the way he sat with his legs slightly open.
“How does it feel having an older brother?” his mother asked, halfway through dessert.
The sorbet was too cold. It sat like an iceberg in the middle of the bowl. Seungmin was scared to dig his spoon into it, worried it would shoot off and hit Changbin. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Seungmin, don’t be so rude!”
Changbin laughed, a little awkward. Endearing. “Ah, don’t worry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t see Seungmin as a brother either.”
-
They shared a taxi back to Chan’s apartment, both happy to see their friends after the food. Seungmin was pathetically grateful not to be left alone.
“Can I ask? Why don’t you like her?”
“Why ask if you can ask, only to immediately ask?”
“I just want you to know that you don’t have to answer. I’m curious, but it’s not my right to know if you don’t want to tell me.”
He was funny. Nosy, but polite enough to be honest about it. “When my dad died, it really changed her.”
Changbin nodded. “I imagine it changed you too.”
“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed. He blinked, and found it odd that his eyes were stinging. “If we’d changed together, that would have been… not okay, but better. But we didn’t.”
Changbin put his hand on Seungmin’s leg. Just resting, gentle. The only time he’d ever been rough was when he was fucking into Seungmin’s mouth, or bending him over the bed and holding him up by his waist. Everything else had been so light that Seungmin could barely feel it. “What do you mean? You changed, but apart?”
“I was thirteen. My dad was gone, and suddenly she was never home either. She was working full time to support us, and I know that she was struggling, but I was too.”
“Of course,” Changbin said. “Did she not… help? Did she talk to you about it? About your dad?”
Seungmin locked his jaw. The only time he’d tried was a couple of months after the funeral, when she’d just gotten home from a ten-hour shift and was eating the toast he’d made for her. It was eleven o’clock. He’d said, “Can you tell me about what dad was like when you first met?”
She’d burst into tears, and through them had yelled, “You look just like him Seungmin, and it hurts! I can barely look at you! Don’t ask me something so selfish!”
He hadn’t asked at all after that. He did his best to stay out of the way.
“She didn’t like to talk about him,” he said to Changbin. “And I look like him, so. I guess it was hard for her to talk to me too. I guess it still is.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
Seungmin laughed and found it genuine. “You can’t call me that,” he said. “What would our parents think?”
The taxi driver looked back at them, wide-eyed.
Changbin rubbed his hands down his face and then scrubbed through his hair. His ears were flaming red.
-
At work, a shitty administrative job Seungmin shared with four other people, Jeongin said, “I didn’t mean to tell Hyunjin about the parakeet guy. We were drunk and it just slipped out.”
Seungmin had forgiven him the moment he’d found out. “It’s fine.”
“If it helps, Hyunjin just sounded impressed.”
Seungmin’s sordid love life impressing Hyunjin rather than disgusting him didn’t impact him much at all. “It does help. Thank you, Jeongin.”
Jeongin smiled, and it was a little slice of perfect happiness in a pie that had been mouldering for months.
-
He knew it would happen eventually. She hadn’t been happy since his father’s death, not really, and even this new marriage couldn’t sustain itself without her moods coming back, the trauma of losing someone dear and never addressing it.
After the third unanswered call, Seungmin finally picked up his phone and answered. “Hello?”
“Have you been drinking?”
“No.” He was on the balcony of Jisung and Minho’s apartment. Changbin and Felix were peering through the door, curious as to why he’d gone outside to answer a call instead of staying inside like he usually did. Felix’s eyes were wide and childlike, Changbin’s face was already halfway into a wince, like he suspected he knew who was on the other end of the call.
“Can you come and get me, Seungminnie? I’ve had too much wine; I don’t want to walk.”
“Call a taxi.”
She was sullen when she said, “You don’t care about me. How do you know I have that kind of money?”
“Because you live in a two-income household and you’re both working above minimum wage. Get a taxi.”
Then, with something like petulance, she said, “If you don’t come and get me I’ll call Changbin. He’ll help me.”
Anger flared up, and for once he didn’t try to keep it in his throat. “Mom-“
But she hung up.
He was halfway to his car when Changbin caught up and snagged his wrist. “Seungmin? What’s wrong?”
“I have to go pick her up. Apologise to Minho when he finishes cooking, please?”
“I’ll go,” Changbin said, soft. “Listen, you stay here, I’ll – “
“She’s not your mother!” Seungmin shouted. “She’s barely mine!”
Changbin seemed to soften even further. “I’m not trying to take her from you.”
“That’s not it. That’s not it at all.” She’s not your burden to bear. “Leave it.”
“I want to help.”
“I don’t want you to help.”
“I want to help regardless,” Changbin said. His hand was still on Seungmin’s wrist, a weightless shackle.
Suddenly the exhaustion hit, and Seungmin felt the fight leave him. He wanted to be held. Ever since they’d met, he’d somehow known that Changbin’s arms were the safest place to be. “Fine,” he said. “You can come with me.”
After a moment, Changbin nodded. He called Minho while Seungmin drove them over, voice low and murmured. When they arrived, he helped Seungmin pour his mother into the back seat. When they pulled up at her house, he carried her up to the bedroom while Seungmin tried to breathe past the hurt clawing at his chest.
“I wish you loved me more,” his mother whispered as he closed the door to her bedroom.
“Yeah,” he managed, voice thick. “I wish you loved me more too.”
Changbin took the driver's seat when they returned to the car, and Seungmin didn’t argue.
“Stay with me tonight,” Changbin said, not really a question.
“Never pegged you as a guy with an incest kink,” Seungmin said, eyes closed. He knocked his head against the car’s window, the glass cool against his forehead. “Chan, on the other hand, definitely likes being called daddy.”
Changbin laughed. His hand returned to Seungmin’s leg like it belonged there. Like he knew Seungmin wanted it there, even if the words went unspoken. “Not for sex. So I know that you’ll be okay.”
Seungmin hummed. “Take me to my apartment, then. You can stay.”
Changbin hesitated. “I can’t remember where you live.”
“I’ll direct you.” Seungmin opened his eyes. “Left here. How long have they been together now?”
“Eight months, or there about.”
He nodded to himself. “I said nine months, right? I’ll stand by that.”
“You think they’re really that close to a divorce?”
“I had to get my self-sabotaging from somewhere, didn’t I?” Seungmin asked. “At the lights go left again. She’s already decided that it’s over. I can tell.”
“I see.”
Seungmin smiled. “Do you?”
“Yeah. It makes a lot of sense, actually.”
“You think so?”
“Not her way of thinking, but yours. Finishing things before they have a chance to start. Protecting yourself from the ending of it all.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He felt entirely too seen. “Has Jeongin ever told you about the parakeet guy?”
Changbin burst into loud, surprising laughter. “No, but Hyunjin mentioned him.”
“Of course he did.”
“I think you’d look very cute in a maid costume.”
“It wasn’t me in the costume.”
“Oh.”
Seungmin found himself smiling. “You have the chest for it.”
Changbin laughed, one of his silly sounding giggles, and Seungmin was painfully glad he hadn’t been left alone.
-
His sweatpants gathered at Changbin’s feet, dragging along the floor as he shuffled around Seungmin’s apartment. The borrowed shirt was too tight.
“Your apartment is nice. Neater than I remember it being.”
“If you were hoping to see dirty G-strings everywhere you’d be better off heading to Jisung’s.”
They climbed into bed together, and it was awkward, but Seungmin refused to let Changbin hurt his back by sleeping on his shitty, lumpy couch. He also refused to hurt his own back, so there they were. Sharing the bed. Sharing Seungmin’s clothes. Staring at the same ceiling.
In the dark, Changbin deepened his voice comically and said, “Little bro, if I close my eyes you’d almost feel like my sexy college girlfriend.”
Seungmin couldn’t hold back his laughter. He leant over, unable to see past his own nose, and kissed where he assumed Changbin’s cheek was. As he started to pull away Changbin reached over to cup the back of his neck, pressing their lips together. Seungmin sighed into it and let Changbin lick into his mouth, soft, always so soft. His lips were plush. He tasted like toothpaste, smelled like fresh laundry. Felt like home.
When Seungmin finally pulled away, his lips were tender and wet. “Don’t tell Jeongin,” he murmured. “If you do, everyone will know by next week.”
“It’ll be our secret,” Changbin said. “Sleep well, baby.”
Seungmin curled up and rested his head against Changbin’s chest. Tension fell away that he hadn’t been aware was holding him rigid. His sleep was deep and dreamless, and he woke the following morning with Changbin pressed against his back, their hands tangled together around his front.
It felt strange to be wanted in the way that Changbin wanted him. Solidly. Unwavering.
Changbin groaned, burrowing his face down to kiss the back of Seungmin’s neck. “Did you sleep well?”
“Your arm is heavy,” Seungmin said. “Why do you have to be so fucking buff? It feels like a tree fell on me in the middle of the night.”
Changbin laughed against his skin. Even the scrape of his stubble was gentle.
-
“Still mooning?” Ryujin asked. “You never last this long. It must be love.”
“I think it is.”
Luckily, she was just making a sandwich this time. She’d already put the knife down, so the only thing to go flying was a thin slice of lettuce. It landed back on the plate with a limp splat.
“I think your lettuce has gone bad. It doesn’t sound very fresh.”
“What do you mean you think it’s love?”
“It’s self-explanatory.”
“Nothing is self-explanatory with you, Seungmin.”
“When you’re back in the country we can talk about it properly. Bring Yeji, I’ll bring Changbin.”
She smiled to herself and began to pull all of the lettuce out of the sandwich. “It’s a date, I guess. Good luck.”
-
“I think I’m in love with Changbin.”
Minho snorted. “No shit.”
“Do you think I’m weird?”
“Obviously. Not for being in love with Changbin, but for all the other shit. Your personality, mostly.”
“Thanks.”
Minho pinched Seungmin’s cheek. His big TV was back to playing cat videos on loop. Felix was watching avidly, sprawled across the floor with his head in Jisung’s lap. Jisung was on his phone watching different cat videos.
“We support you; you know that right?” Felix said suddenly. “There’s a reason we set you up together, and it’s because we all thought you’d match well.”
“What the hell do you mean you set us up?”
Felix rolled over to stare up at him with big, guileless eyes. “You didn’t think I needed help seducing Chan, did you? Really?”
“Hyunjin –“
“Was embarrassing, sure, but Jeongin had already admitted the crush was mutual by that point. We just thought that you and Changbin should meet. We thought giving you the chance to talk alone would be a good thing.”
“You set me up with my stepbrother?”
“He wasn’t your stepbrother then, come on!”
“He probably won’t be for much longer, either,” Seungmin said. “And when we’re no longer related, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Felix pouted. “You don’t mean that.”
Seungmin didn’t.
-
“You got what you wanted,” his mother said down the phone. “I’m alone again.”
Seungmin sighed. “I’m on my way.”
Changbin caught his wrist, but Seungmin peeled his fingers away, gentle. Because Changbin deserved gentleness too. “Baby, do you need me to come?”
“No,” Seungmin said. “I think I need to talk to her on my own. You’re welcome to stay here.”
“I will. That way, I’ll know when you’re home safely.”
It was weird. Like they were dating, but not. Changbin stayed over sometimes, but always clothed. They kissed sometimes. Changbin called Seungmin baby. Seungmin let him. “Don’t you want to check on your dad?”
“I’ll give him a call, but he’s pretty resilient,” Changbin said. “If I need to go over I will, but I’ll let you know first.”
“Okay.”
“If you need me, I’ll come.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Seungmin.”
Seungmin kissed him. “I know.”
-
She was curled up in bed when he arrived. Changbin’s father had already taken most of his things. When she caught sight of the watch on Seungmin’s wrist, she laughed. It was a self-pitying sound. “You’ve always wanted me to be alone, ever since he died. You never wanted me to move on.”
“I wanted you to be happy, however it was you found that happiness,” Seungmin said, perching on the side of the bed. She looked older than she ever had. Fragile. “I wanted you to be happy, but I also wanted you to be my mother. You proved early on that you couldn’t manage both of those things.”
“I was grieving. I was a single mother working a full-time job to support you.”
Seungmin nodded. Swallowed. “I know that,” he said. “But I was a child. I was grieving too. You told me you couldn’t look at me.”
“I was – “
“You’ve never apologised.”
“Seungmin –“
“I was grieving too. I lost dad, and then I lost you too.”
“You didn’t lose me!”
“I did,” he said. “And I think you lost yourself too.”
She dissolved into tears. “Are you happy now?”
“Not at this moment, but generally, I suppose I am,” he admitted. “I hope you get to this point too, someday, but I can’t do it for you. You didn’t do it for me.”
And then, because sadness made her nasty, she moved her hands away from her face and said, “Changbin was like a real son to me. More than you ever were.”
It hurt. It did, but not as much as he’d expected. “Your sadness made you selfish,” he said, standing. “He helped you because he wanted to ease things for me. He wanted to help me. And I let him. You’ll never know how weird that is for me. How grateful I am to him.” He brushed imaginary dirt from his jeans. “I hope you find that one day, but you need to be honest first, about your own needs and failures. I hope we can be close again too, when we’re ready.”
She sniffed. “But not now? Seungmin, I need you.”
“I needed you too,” he said. “But now I need me more. I can’t help myself if I’m too busy helping you. It didn’t work the first time, and it won’t work now. You need to figure this one out for yourself.”
-
He fell into Changbin’s arms and lay his head on his chest.
“How was it?”
“Not fun.”
Changbin hummed. It vibrated against Seungmin’s ear. “I’m proud of you.”
“Aw. I made my big bro proud?”
Changbin laughed, and the force of it almost bounced Seungmin’s head off of his chest.
-
When the divorce was finalised, Changbin and Seungmin went out for dinner with Changbin’s father. He was holding up well, all things considering.
“By the way,” Changbin said. “Now that this isn’t legally kind of grey, I can tell you that I’m in a relationship with Seungmin.”
Changbin’s dad didn’t stop eating. When the silence dragged, he finally paused. “What, were you expecting me to act surprised?”
“It would have been polite to at least pretend.”
“Oh my God! I’m so surprised and happy for you both! Congratulations on your new relationship!”
Changbin snorted. “Thanks, dad. It means a lot.”
Changbin’s dad nodded. To Seungmin, he said, “I never would have married your mother if I’d realised that the man my son was in love with was her son. Sorry about that.”
“It’s not like you did it on purpose.”
“Or did I?” he asked. At Changbin’s disgust, he laughed. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy embarrassing you again. It’s been a long time since the sandals and socks came out together.”
“Dad,” Changbin whined. His ears were red. “You already know Seungmin, come on.”
“I do. I’m already comfortable with him, which is going to make things much worse for you.”
Seungmin squeezed Changbin’s thigh under the table. It was more for his own sake than Changbin’s.
The look Changbin sent him said that he knew that all too well.
-
“How’s your mother?”
It was almost whispered while Changbin walked ahead, trying to find the car in the too-big parking lot.
Seungmin stared at Changbin’s ass when he answered. “I saw her last week. She’s moving in with her new boyfriend soon, but she’s also started counseling. There’s some progress.”
“And how are you, Seungmin?”
Changbin made a weird noise when he found the car, arms in the air in a victory stance. “Found it!”
“Lucky,” Seungmin said, staring at him.