sinoshijak prompt fills #1
all fics here are fills for sinoshijak, aka ikon prompt meme
fic #1: when you're gone [ original prompt]
pairing: b.i/jinhwan (binhwan)
rating: PG
genre: depressing blarghh
word count: ~1.8k
warnings: underage drinking
a/n: this is just kind of an off the cuff thing and it's past 4am (i might flesh this out later or something OTL). this is set after a modified version of m&m where all of the members were up for elimination. title and cut from avril lavigne's when you're gone.
they all knew it was a possibility, but no one ever expected it to actually happen.
as if sajangnim hasn't tortured them all enough already, they all have to wait just like the viewers to find out who the final members of ikon are - day by torturous day, kept at the edges of their seats with their eyes glued to the line chat as each member is announced throughout the week.
the first, to no one's surprise, is hanbin himself, followed by bobby. they're yg's golden boys, after all, the next gd and top or what-have-you. they share a fistbump after bobby's name and picture appear on hanbin's phone screen, but it's too early for celebration.
not when the rest of their team is still up in the air.
junhoe and yunhyeong's names are released over the next two days. bobby buys a bottle of champagne from the store down the street, since it looks like their original sextet is going to make it through.
the day after, though, is chanwoo. they all knew chanwoo was one that sajangnim favored, and was relatively popular with the viewers, but the reminder that there are three other boys vying for spots is fresh in hanbin's mind once again.
bobby buys a few bottles of soju that night, the cheap stuff that's good for knocking you for a loop, and the original trio sit in bobby and hanbin's room (junhoe relocating for the night, understanding of the bond that the three share), drinking in silence. hanbin's still a year too young, but no one will tell if he doesn't.
"what if i don't make it?" jinhwan asks, starting on his second bottle. his voice is close to tears, and his shoulders hitch. hanbin reaches out and wraps an arm around jinhwan's shoulders, trying to comfort the oldest.
"you're gonna make it," bobby says, but his voice is deep and grave.
"don't worry about it, jinhwan-hyung," hanbin says, and he swallows dryly. the alcohol's starting to get to his head. "they can't break us up."
jinhwan doesn't look convinced, but downs the rest of the bottle in silence.
the sixth name is donghyuk, and by this time all the members are starting to get nervous. jinhwan stays in his room, buried under blankets on his bed. it's so unlike him, to close himself off, and hanbin's torn between wanting to give jinhwan his space and holding him forever.
"jinhwan-hyung has to make it, right?" donghyuk asks him, a terrified whisper. "if i made it and he didn't, i'd never--"
"don't talk that way, donghyuk," hanbin says, rubbing the younger's head. "you worked hard. he'll make it."
they're all crowded around junhoe's ipad in the living room as the clock ticks closer to eleven. even jinhyeong and hongseok have made their peace with their all-but-certain elimination, instead standing as silent pillars of support for jinhwan.
"one minute," yunhyeong says, and they watch as the teasing message comes up first, one they've seen six times over. hanbin doesn't think the little thunderclouds are funny, and wonders who on earth in their company is sadistic enough to come up with such an idea.
the numbers in the corner of the tablet change, and a picture pops up.
it's jinhyeong.
hanbin feels like crying.
junhoe opens the image, swiping at it this way and that to see if there's some kind of hidden message, but the "hyeong" stays there resolute instead of "hwan," and jinhyeong's frozen smile remains on the screen.
real-life jinhyeong is frozen, too, expression halfway between relief and despair. chanwoo pats him awkwardly on the shoulder, but the dorm is silent.
"i," jinhwan chokes, "i need some air."
he bolts for the door, and hanbin moves to run after him, but bobby holds him back, giving his head a small shake.
"give him a moment. we've still gotta celebrate jinhyeongie making it," bobby says. "i didn't buy the bubbly for nothing."
the toast is dismal, voices low and demeanors somber as they clink plastic cups and drink. hanbin stares into the pale golden liquid, bubbles rising from the middle, some clinging to the sides. he wishes he could rise up as freely, but he feels stuck, with no way out.
"i'm gonna take one out to jinhwan-hyung," hanbin says, and bobby hands him a cup wordlessly, taking a sip of his own drink, bangs casting a shadow over his face.
hanbin finds jinhwan sitting outside the building, his knees curled up to his chest and sobs wracking his body.
"here," hanbin says, sitting down next to jinhwan and offering him the cup, "i brought you some."
jinhwan turns to face him, eyes red and puffy, and hanbin feels decidedly useless.
he doesn't even have tissues.
"thanks," he mumbles, taking the cup and drinking the whole thing down in seconds. hanbin offers up his own up, and jinhwan downs that, too, setting the cups beside him.
"it hurts, hanbin-ah," jinhwan hiccups, "why couldn't it be me?"
hanbin can't answer that, instead wrapping his arms around jinhwan and letting the oldest cry into his shirt. he wishes he wasn't so bad with words, so that he could offer some type of support instead of awkward back pats and empty whispers that everything will be okay, because it's not.
it's not okay, and never will be.
hongseok and jinhwan move out the next morning, packing all their things into boxes and suitcases. they all cluster around again, saying their last goodbyes. hongseok is silent, shaking hands with all of them before he gets into one of the company vans. hanbin feels bad for him, just a little, because they all know that right now everyone only cares about jinhwan.
"be good, all of you," he says, voice cracking a little. "hear that, june-yah?"
junhoe scoffs, but it's weak; hanbin can see his eyes watering, their team's original youngest fighting so hard to keep it together.
"donghyuk-ah, yunhyeong-ah, you've worked so hard since we first met. i'm proud of you."
donghyuk can't bring himself to look jinhwan in the eyes, instead keeping close to yunhyeong, who helps him stay standing.
"chanwoo-yah, jinhyeong-ah, keep it up. you've already surpassed your hyung."
it's a grim joke, and no one laughs. jinhyeong looks just about ready to throw his spot away for the oldest, but they know it'll never happen. it's not a matter of their selflessness (if that were the issue, hanbin would've given up his spot in a heartbeat), but of sajangnim, who wouldn't give them a chance in hell of letting that happen.
"bobby," jinhwan says, and said man grabs him in a bone-crushing hug.
"don't go, hyung," bobby cries, ever the emotional and attached one. "don't go."
"keep him same, hanbin-ah," jinhwan stage-whispers, cracking a weak smile and patting bobby on the back.
hanbin gulps. "i'll try."
bobby releases his hold on jinhwan, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and pushing hanbin forward.
"you can do it, hanbinnie," jinhwan murmurs, as hanbin locks his arms around him. "be strong."
"how?" hanbin asks, and his voice sounds like a stranger's, even to his own ears.
"don't rely on yourself so much. you're part of a team, you know?"
it's not a team without you, hanbin thinks, but jinhwan whispers something that might be "i love you" into his ear and he snaps back, ready to ask jinhwan to repeat himself, but he's already hugging the others and getting ready to go home.
junhoe runs back inside the second the car leaves, the rest of them following soon after, sans hanbin, who sits at the front of the building alone.
he's not sure how he can go back inside when jinhwan's not there waiting for him.
he sits there for hours, lost in his memories (when they first met, when hanbin first grew taller than jinhwan, when they went to jeju together and ate at jinhwan's mom's, when they first went through win, hours and hours of practice sessions and late nights awake and all the words hanbin's always wanted to say but never did), until the wind bites at his skin and the sky darkens.
he trudges inside, shoulders slumped, heading straight for his bunk. the dorm shouldn't feel so empty with seven people, but it does.
somehow, though, hanbin feels like everything's crowding in on him until he feels like he can't breathe.
hanbin barely leaves his bunk for the next week, only getting up to use the bathroom and eat whatever bobby forcibly shoves at him and pilfer alcohol from the back of the fridge. yunhyeong's stocked the good kind of beer, probably for himself, but hanbin figures he'll let a few bottles slide.
it's a weird feeling, knowing that yunhyeong's the oldest, now.
he lies in bed and drinks and writes songs, lyrics spilling from his pen in messy hangul over his notebook, raw and painful like a slap in the face every time he tries to reread them. eventually, he just starts tearing the pages out, then he's tearing apart the entire book and junhoe walks in to a flurry of paper bits in the air.
(they spend four hours silently taping the pages back together.)
when hanbin goes back to the yg building for the first time after mix & match ended, he feels gutted. he'd left so much in the rooms there, but something (someone) won't be coming back.
hanbin's tried sending katalk messages, but they go unread for days until eventually he just stops entirely. he's tried phone calls, emails, even tried sending a couple of good old-fashioned letters, but he's got nothing.
maybe it's for the better, he muses as he whips his body around, making sure to spot himself in the mirror, that they've cut themselves out of each other's lives completely. ripped off the bandaid completely, instead of in tiny increments.
(hanbin doesn't think it actually hurts less, this way.)
the weeks pass by, and then his father is arrested, of all things, and hanbin is confused and betrayed and he retreats back into himself, only emerging when bobby and minho flip his mattress over and tell him he's performing born hater live with them, so he better haul ass out of bed right this instant.
when he's onstage the next week, looking out at the crowd, thousands of people watching him, he wonders if jinhwan is watching him too.
slowly, hanbin comes back to himself, in bits and pieces as he yells himself raw every time they perform climax at big bang's concerts and learns how to interact with the others again. they treat him like broken glass, until junhoe apologizes for wearing one of hanbin's hats and he just laughs, because junhoe never apologizes to anyone.
(except jinhwan, but he doesn't think about that.)
he never stops missing jinhwan - not when they finally start recording tracks for their debut album, not when they're practicing choreography night after night, not when jinhwan finally sends him a fighting, b.i! i'll be watching on the night of their debut showcase, but he's okay with it, now.
thanks, hyung.
love you.
love you too.
fic #2: five times junhoe confesses to jinhwan (and one time it actually works) [ original prompt]
pairing: jinhwan/junhoe (junhwan), slightly more than hinted but not really important!double b
rating: pg-13
genre: crack, semi-fluff, semi-romance
word count: ~4k
warnings: language, bobby being a cockblock
a/n: this took way longer than it should have, idek why lol. this is... really dumb, honestly. but it's cute so?? idk i love the prompt meme junhwan is love junhwan is life
The first time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, it flies right over the oldest’s head.
(It was at least six inches - Junhoe’s rather proud of that, honestly.)
Dance practice is normally one of Junhoe’s favorite times of the day.
Today, it is not.
After a heated discussion in which Hanbin yells at Junhoe for apparently doing something wrong (it’s not his fault his legs are three inches longer than Hanbin’s, really), Junhoe decides to barricade himself inside one of the recording rooms and make paper airplanes out of Hanbin’s sheet music.
This, of course, loses its appeal relatively quickly - Hanbin keeps most of his music on his computer, and Junhoe doesn’t have an imminent death wish, thank you very much. He unfolds the sheets of paper roughly, dumping them on the desk with a careless hand.
Junhoe’s cooled down from his initial anger, but he’s not yet interested in confronting the leader, nor in facing the inevitable lecture. He’s seventeen, for God’s sake, and Hanbin isn’t even a whole year older; shouldn’t there be a law against people that close in age trying to pull rank?
Now that his mind’s a little clearer, he notices that not all of the papers are sheet music - in fact, they aren’t even lyrics.
He spreads them out, sorting out the interesting ones from Hanbin’s memos to buy more snapbacks and ramen. Soon, he’s left with a fairly substantial stack of papers, and he leans back to read.
If he’d been eating or drinking anything, he would have spat it out the second he read To Bobby, I, uh, think I like you in Hanbin’s distinctive scrawl.
“Huh,” Junhoe mutters, thoroughly amazed that the unbeatable eighteen-year-old single man was actually being somewhat proactive about something instead of moping all the time and expecting pity.
(He never got any, especially from Junhoe himself, but Junhoe supposes Bobby’s got a soft spot for their leader, so maybe it’ll work.)
This, of course, brings up the topic of Junhoe’s love life (or lack thereof). Admittedly, he’s just as bad as Hanbin, only not as whiny - he’s never dated anyone, the extent of his romantic endeavors remaining firmly planted in the one-sided crush territory.
Granted, Junhoe’s never really been interested in dating, since he’d started training right around the time when most boys stop thinking girls have cooties, and he cared more about hitting notes than hitting on people.
Lately, though, he’s been feeling kind of weird - namely, due to one Kim Jinhwan.
Junhoe’s not sure exactly how it started. One moment, he was watching Jinhwan practice some choreography, and the next he was imagining him naked. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), due to the wonder of shared showers, Junhoe knows exactly what Jinhwan looks like, and while he’d never particularly cared before, the image of his favorite hyung dripping wet decided to insert itself into his head and he was bolting out the door.
(“Junhoe’s growing up!” Bobby had crowed after him, but Junhoe knows for a fact that Bobby’s no better - he’s had to run out of practice at least ten times in the two and a half years Junhoe’s been at YG.)
What the hell, Junhoe figures, and plucks a piece of scrap paper and a pen from off the table.
Once they’re in his hands, though, he’s got absolutely no idea what to say. He’s never been good with words, and he’s painfully blunt more often not.
“Dear Jinhwan?” No, that’s ridiculous. “Jinhwan-hyung, I want to get into your pants?” Isn’t that moving a little fast?
Eventually, he settles for a simple “I like you,” and folds up the paper into an airplane, because he’s got no idea what else to do with it.
He amuses himself by throwing the note around the room for a bit, and he’s just launched it towards the door when it opens, revealing the man of the hour. The airplane sails straight over Jinhwan’s head and lands gracefully on the floor behind him.
“So you were here,” Jinhwan chuckles to himself. “I should’ve come here first.”
Junhoe shrugs, his throat suddenly gone dry. “Well, I mean Hanbin usually comes here…”
“He went out on a walk,” Jinhwan says, “Bobby went after him to make sure he didn’t try to go to Busan again.”
“Why didn’t you go after him?” Junhoe asks. It’s no secret in the group that the three Kims are closest to each other, despite the strong overall group bond they share.
Jinhwan raises an eyebrow, still far too amused. “Would you rather Bobby come in here looking for you?”
Junhoe makes a face - as much as he likes the rest of the members, Bobby’s always reminded Junhoe of an overeager puppy that doesn’t know when to back down and shut up.
“Thought so. C’mon, let’s go back to the dorm. I’ll make you some food.”
The prospect of food appeals to Junhoe’s stomach immensely, which decides to make an embarrassingly loud noise.
“That settles that, then,” Junhoe mumbles, standing up and rubbing his neck to try and brush it off. Jinhwan just smiles and throws an arm around Junhoe’s waist, Junhoe’s arm naturally coming up to rest on Jinhwan’s shoulders.
“Hm?” Jinhwan squats down to pick up the airplane-note. “You threw this earlier, right?”
Junhoe’s heart starts beating double-time, and he nods, praying that Jinhwan doesn’t open it (or does he want Jinhwan to open it? He’s not really sure.)
“Don’t litter, you idiot,” Jinhwan teases, pinching Junhoe’s side and dropping the airplane in the bin.
Junhoe lets out a sigh, but if it’s out of relief or disappointment, he’s not sure.
*
The second time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he chokes on the words.
(Not Junhoe himself, but Jinhwan.)
He’s lying on the couch next to Donghyuk, who’d developed a fondness for watching cheesy dramas. Junhoe himself isn’t much of a fan, but there’s something to be said for their mind-numbing qualities.
Not for the first time, he squints at the screen after having zoned out a little too long. “Dong, what’s going on?”
“She’s gonna confess to him!” comes the excited reply, Donghyuk’s eyes glued to the screen.
Huh. Junhoe makes an effort to pay attention this time. He hasn’t tried confessing to Jinhwan after the airplane incident a week ago, but he figures that this is probably a sign from the heavens that he ought to try again. The actress presents a cupcake to her onscreen love interest, who picks up the sweet and bites into it, expression contorting from pleased to confused as he pulls it away, revealing a folded paper in the middle. He opens it, surprise crossing his features.
“Jiyeon-ah… you… like me?”
“Yes, oppa, please say you’ll accept!”
Bells start ringing in Junhoe’s head at this (granted, they could very well be alarm bells, but Junhoe isn’t paying too much attention), and he jumps up from the couch, patting Donghyuk on the shoulder in silent thanks.
“Junhoe? Where are you going? You’ll miss the best part!” Donghyuk calls after him.
Junhoe ignores him, heading straight for the kitchen. He can’t cook worth a damn and he doesn’t think any bakeries in the area are open at midnight, but he’s pretty sure Bobby’s got some kind of snack hidden away in the cupboards that he can use.
He comes away with a package containing two pieces of some kind of violently yellow snack cake with an English name, and he shrugs. This will have to do.
Tucking the snack into the pocket of his pants, he makes his way to his room, where he locates a bit of paper and a pen.
Jinhwan, I like you. Go out with me? he writes, trying to keep his handwriting as neat as possible. He folds up his declaration of love, rips open the snack package, and sticks the paper into one of the holes at the bottom of the thing.
“Jinhwan-hyung!” he calls, sticking his head out the door, “come quick!”
Jinhwan, of course, comes running. “What is it?”
“Some fans gave me some snacks,” he lies through his teeth, “there’s two in the package, and I, uh, was wondering if you wanted to split it with me?”
Jinhwan weighs the costs and benefits in his head for a few moments before shrugging. “Sure.”
Junhoe pushes the prepared snack towards Jinhwan, who looks at it cautiously before nibbling a bit at the end. Junhoe takes a bite out of the other to appear less suspicious, and he grimaces. Why does Bobby keep these around? They’re not that great.
“Hmm,” Jinhwan says, taking a larger bite. “Interesting.”
“KOO JUNHOE!” comes a sudden shout, and Jinhwan jumps about three feet in the air at the unexpected noise. “DID YOU TAKE MY TWINKIES?”
Junhoe’s about to make his grand escape (this is Bobby’s room, too, after all), when Jinhwan starts making strangled noises.
“Stuck… throat… help!”
Junhoe tries to remember how this was done in that medical drama Donghyuk was watching last month, wrapping his arms around Jinhwan’s midsection. If only this were under better circumstances, Junhoe sighs mentally, as he squeezes hard.
Jinhwan coughs, a damp ball of yellow mush landing on the floor. With some regret, Junhoe notices the scrap of paper sticking out from it, and he grabs a tissue, hastily wiping it up.
“Thanks, June-yah,” Jinhwan says, rubbing his throat. “Didn’t want to die quite yet.”
“No problem, hyung,” he replies. Even though Jinhwan’s the one who choked, Junhoe feels an odd lump in his throat.
“KOO JUNHOE! WHERE ARE YOU?”
Junhoe takes that as his cue to dive under his bed and push Jinhwan towards the door, before one or both of them gets murdered that night.
*
The third time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he just can’t find the words to say.
(No, really, where did his lyric sheet go?)
After Jinhwan nearly dies, Junhoe decides to go for a simpler approach - the serenade.
He spends several days poring over videos online to try and find just the right song (really, this stuff is even harder than their monthly evaluations), until he finally decides to stick with the classic With You by Chris Brown.
Unfortunately, though, he’s met with a sudden wrench in his plans. They’ve all got to go to Japan in a couple of days to open for Big Bang’s dome tour, and after that, Junhoe knows he’s not going to have a substantial amount of time since they’ll be preparing for their debut.
Well, he hopes they’ll be preparing for their debut. Big Bang’s been singing Fantastic Baby for as long as he’s been in the company, and he’d gotten sick of it after the first four months. If he has to sing Just Another Boy for all eternity, he might just quit entirely.
He prints out the lyric sheet, humming to himself as the paper inches out. He’s relatively familiar with the song, but he wants to make a few changes to make the whole thing a little more personal. If it were entirely up to him, he’d actually write a song, but his lyric-writing skills are about as good as his speaking skills (that is to say, pretty bad), his composing skills are nonexistent (he doesn’t think plonking out a few nursery rhymes on the piano counts as instrumental talent), and there’s no way in hell he’d ever ask Bobby or Hanbin for help - Bobby would make it a point to laugh at Junhoe for the rest of eternity, and Hanbin would probably insist on either making a featuring verse or sticking an entirely inappropriate trap break in.
He spends the next few hours practicing the song and rewriting some of the verses, mostly involving changing all the pronouns and attempting to turn half the song into Korean so that his tongue doesn’t get messed up in the middle. When he decides that the song’s as good as it’s gonna get, he gets up and leaves to eat some lunch (to fortify himself for the mission ahead) and find Jinhwan (because obviously the plan will fail without him.)
Luckily, he runs into Jinhwan in the kitchen, who’s making a pot of ramyun. Junhoe grabs a packet from the cabinet and pushes it up next to Jinhwan’s on the counter.
“You expect me to make you one too?” Jinhwan asks teasingly, ripping open the first package and putting the noodles in the boiling water.
Junhoe shrugs, as Jinhwan dumps in the second package, along with the seasonings. He hums to himself as he separates the noodles with a pair of chopsticks, and Junhoe’s heart suddenly feels too big for his chest.
(He really hates those cow pajamas.)
“June-yah, do you want egg in yours?” Jinhwan asks, as he opens the fridge.
“Uh,” Junhoe says, and Jinhwan just smiles, grabbing two and cracking them into the boiling pot.
Junhoe sits down at the kitchen table, feeling oddly anxious. Or maybe not oddly, because he is going to be spilling his guts out in about twenty minutes. But he ignores that in favor of thanking Jinhwan for the ramyun as the oldest brings it over, popping the egg yolk and mixing his noodles around.
“Hyung, afterwards, let’s go to my room, m’kay?” Junhoe says, slurping down some noodles.
Jinhwan quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing, merely smiling and blowing on his own.
The redness creeping up his neck is obviously the spice, Junhoe decides, as he eats the noodles as fast as he can without causing himself bodily harm. Jinhwan’s still only about halfway done, and Junhoe fights to keep himself from staring at Jinhwan’s face, instead prodding aimlessly at a couple of limp reconstituted green onions at the bottom of his bowl.
“So what was so important you wanted to show me?” Jinhwan asks, as Junhoe (in a sudden and never-to-be-mentioned show of consideration) takes both of their bowls to the sink.
“Um. Let’s go,” Junhoe says, resisting the urge to grab Jinhwan’s hand as they walk to Junhoe’s room. Jinhwan takes a seat on Hanbin’s bunk while Junhoe goes to grab his lyric sheet.
Only, it’s not there.
He could have sworn he left it on his desk, but instead he finds a neatly printed sheet with the lyrics to what is apparently Verbal Jint’s Make Up Sex, if the title is any indication of the contents.
“Junhoe?” Jinhwan asks, and Junhoe gulps hard.
He definitely can’t do this.
“Uh… never mind, hyung.”
*
The fourth time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he trips over himself in his haste.
(He may also have pulled a groin muscle.)
No one can resist this body, Junhoe tells himself as he examines himself in the training room mirror, fixing the tips of his bangs from under the brim of his snapback so that they’re angled just so. He’s decided to fall back on his original talent, and spent the last day and a half planning to choreograph a dance to Crush’s I Fancy You.
For once, Bobby’d proven himself useful - or perhaps just forgetful, but it didn’t matter much to Junhoe.
Junhoe’d been having issues choosing a song, so he decided to listen to his iPod in the hopes of finding something that he could work with, only to find that it wasn’t his, but Bobby’s. After the initial rage of Bobby jacking his stuff again subsided, he realized that he might actually have come across something he could work with. He isn’t well acquainted with the artist (he figures it’s one of the Illionare acquaintances that Bobby had made after Show Me the Money), but that song had been queued up, and he’d actually liked it a good deal. It’s got a good beat, and although it’s a little suggestive, Junhoe figures that could appeal to Jinhwan.
If this works out, he might actually thank Bobby.
Might.
(Probably not.)
Admittedly, the dance is mostly body waving, pointing, and running his hands down his body, but he’s working under time constraints - they leave for Japan tomorrow, so he’d had roughly half a day to choreograph this - and he’s pretty sure he’ll get his message across, anyways.
He’s contemplating the finishing touches on his ending position (On one knee? Standing? Lying down? Should he rip his shirt off?) when the door opens suddenly, Jinhwan’s head poking in.
“Hello? Is someone in here?”
The music’s still playing full blast, and Junhoe jumps, all but sprinting over to the iPod dock to change the song. He can’t have his surprise spoiled, after all.
Unfortunately, he seems to have overestimated the length of his legs, a searing pain shooting up his inner thigh as he slams his hand down on the skip track button.
Also unfortunately, Bobby would put his own song on his damned iPod, and the dreadfully familiar beats to Put Your Guard Up and Bounce come on.
As if on cue, Bobby pushes past Jinhwan and skids into the room, somehow simultaneously managing to rip his shirt off and swagdance at the same time. If Junhoe weren’t pissed off and in pain, he would have found it incredibly amusing - as it stands now, all he want is for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He pumps his own arms weakly in an attempt to divert the oldest’s attention, shooting Jinhwan an awkward half-smile.
“If you wanted to have a dance party by yourself, you could have just said something,” Jinhwan laughs, closing the door.
As soon as he’s gone, Junhoe limps over and shuts the speaker off. “Really, hyung? Really?”
Bobby just looks at him. “Huh?”
Junhoe throws his snapback at him.
*
The fifth time Junhoe tries to confess to Jinhwan, he ends up scaring his pants off.
(He’s certain it was Bobby that did the deed.)
For some reason, Junhoe finds himself at a Japanese amusement park once again - this time, they’re going to a haunted house. Junhoe himself is no fan, but he figures they’re not too bad.
He’s not like Jinhwan, at least, who’s shivering visibly as he stares at the formidable building. It’s an ugly thing, painted in various dark shades of paint, with boards hanging off and the like.
Junhoe knows a prime opportunity when he sees one - a scared Jinhwan means near-certain skinship, which means he’ll have a chance to display his manly powers, which will lead to Jinhwan realizing what a catch he is and accepting his confession of love.
(Clearly, this plan has more than a few kinks in it, but Junhoe figures at this point he may as well just roll with it, since everything else he’s tried has failed.)
“You can hold my hand if you’re scared, hyung,” he whispers into Jinhwan’s ear, and the oldest flinches, but grips onto Junhoe’s sleeve.
Junhoe decides he can get used to this, Jinhwan’s body heat radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt as the seven of them enter the haunted house. He can hear Bobby making ridiculous spooky sounds next to Hanbin, who he imagines is probably rolling his eyes in response.
(He’s honestly confused as to why Hanbin - or anyone, for that matter, would ever have a thing for Bobby, but to each their own, he supposes. As long as that means the leader is staying far away from Jinhwan.)
Jinhwan gets closer with every passing minute they spend inside the house until he might as well be clinging onto Junhoe like a koala. Junhoe would be enjoying this immensely - if not for the fact that he seems to have grossly overestimated his tolerance for the frightening. The beginning was relatively tame, just a few skulls placed in corners and fog, but somewhere around the middle the lights faded to near nonexistence, and Junhoe’s heart rate has probably tripled from the combination of things jumping out at them and Jinhwan jumping on his body.
“Oh god, oh god,” he hears Jinhwan mutter to himself after a particularly loud goblin had sprung out at them, and he breathes deeply, trying to keep himself calm.
Suddenly, he hears something move behind him, and he’s about to turn around and look when he suddenly feels something very breezy around his nether regions and he trips, shouting as he takes someone down with him.
A bright light pierces Junhoe’s field of vision, revealing Yunhyeong with a flashlight (seriously, couldn’t he have cracked that out earlier?), a scandalized Chanwoo with Hanbin attempting to cover the maknae’s eyes, a bemused Donghyuk, and a cackling Bobby.
“Damn, Junhoe, never knew you wanted to get it on that badly!”
Heart suddenly stopping, Junhoe looks down, to find - who else, really - Jinhwan trapped underneath him. Heat rushes to his face and he jumps to his feet, yanking his pants back up before extending a hand to Jinhwan.
“I-uh-sorry, hyung, I-” Junhoe stammers. What exactly is he supposed to say? “Sorry, I think someone pantsed me, and I mean I do want to do stuff but not like that, but maybe like that?”
Jinhwan pats him on the shoulder in forgiveness, his face ashen.
Junhoe hears Bobby still snickering behind him, and vows to hide his Pooh on the highest shelf once they get back to the hotel.
*
The one time Junhoe actually does manage to confess to Jinhwan, it’s a piece of cake.
(They’re really eating ddeokbokki, but details, details.)
Seeing as how Junhoe has somehow managed to fuck up five confessions, he figures that this time, he might as well just come out with it - blunt and simple.
They’re sitting at the kitchen table, eating some snacks that Hanbin had made Chanwoo bring back, when Junhoe finally decides to steel himself and just go for it.
“Jinhwan-hyung,” Junhoe says conversationally, as he chews on a piece of rice cake, “I have something I need to tell you.”
“Hm?” Jinhwan looks up from his glass of water. “What?”
“I, uh,” Junhoe says, running a hand through his hair so he can attempt to look cool instead of awkwardly nervous, “kinda, uh, like you. Hyung. A lot.”
“I know.”
“And I mean I know you probably like Hanbin or some-what?”
Junhoe blinks at Jinhwan owlishly, who does that stupid eye-smile of his as he reaches across the table to skewer a piece of fish cake. “I said I know.”
“You-uh-really?”
Jinhwan chews slowly, deliberately. Junhoe can feel sweat starting to drip down the back of neck.
“Yup.”
“How-uh-”
“You weren’t exactly subtle,” Jinhwan says, “also, Bobby showed me your Chris Brown lyric sheet with your notes on it.”
“That bastard,” Junhoe hisses lowly, and Jinhwan pokes him in the head.
“That’s your hyung, be nice to him,” he reprimands, but his words are without bite.
“I’ll be nice to him when he stops making it his life mission to make my life as painfully awkward as possible,” Junhoe grumbles, shoving a piece of rice cake in his mouth and chomps viciously.
“He’s just looking out for you?” Jinhwan suggests, shrugging as he sets his skewer down. “I think.”
Junhoe rolls his eyes, putting his own skewer down as well. “Whatever.”
They’re silent for a bit, and it itches at Junhoe, because everything feels so unfinished, but at the same time, he’s got no idea what to do next. Admittedly, he never did figure out what he was supposed to do after the actual act of confession.
“June-yah, you’re too cute,” Jinhwan says, reaching over to ruffle Junhoe’s bangs. “I knew I picked a good one.”
“You-what?”
Jinhwan gets up, and before Junhoe can register what’s actually happening, Jinhwan’s pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead and tugging at his hand.
“Come on, we have practice.”
“Hyung, what?”
Junhoe stumbles after him in a daze, only barely registering Bobby and Hanbin’s whoops enough to give them the finger.
“Couldn’t you leave them well enough alone?” Jinhwan teases, “they are your hyungs, after all.”
“Nope.”
“That’s my favorite maknae,” Jinhwan murmurs, standing on his tiptoes to press another kiss to Junhoe’s cheek. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
(The one time Jinhwan confesses to Junhoe, he’s floating on cloud nine.)
(Well, he’s standing on hardwood floor, but he might as well be flying.)