1 week later-
Jumin didn't want to go to the club. It meant contact with V and a painful hangover and random people hitting (and grinding) on him. He'd rather stay home and antisocially work through his mountain of paperwork. His father liked to pile it on in the autumn as they approached the holidays, preparing for his employees to take off for vacation.
Jumin also had an essay to write, but V had insisted that Jumin had come clubbing in celebration of Rika and his anniversary. Jumin didn't care how many months they had been together, but he'd bought V a present anyways, a set of ramen bowls with a cartoonish cat face etched into the pottery. He secretly wanted to keep them for himself as an excuse to come up with a ramen product suitable for cats so that he could eat with Elly, but he eventually decided against it.
V liked nightclubs. Jumin had no idea why, he thought they were awful. Who would want to be in a cesspool if sweat, smoke, and beer? Jumin certainly didn't, but the whole group was going and he knew that if he didn't join them, he'd be harped on about it for who-knows-how-long.
So here he was, in front of his mirror, trying to decide what to wear. His normal suit was not an option, what if someone threw up on him? Jumin only had two 'casual' outfits: a cashmere sweater with jeans, and a polo with khaki shorts. The latter was out of the picture because it was too cold out, and the sweater was out for the same reason as the suit. Cashmere was expensive and he didn't want to drive to the dry cleaners. Jumin would've gone out to buy another sweater, but he was tight on time and V was supposed to pick him up in 15 minutes.
As a last resort, Jumin pulled on his jeans, rubbed a bar of solid cologne on his wrists, and left the room in his white button-up, walking down the few flights of stairs to V's floor.
V answered his door almost immediately, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He grinned as best he could, holding open the door, "Hey, man," he tried to say. He was wearing a white bathrobe tied loosely at the waist and he quite literally looked like a porcelain statue, his hair slicked back, pale skin crystalline.
"Hey..." Jumin tried casually, "This is a weird question, do you have a shirt I can borrow?". V paused then nodded enthusiastically, leading the way into his dorm room which was identical to Jumin's except a lot cleaner.
It was obvious which side of the room belonged to V. His bedside table, adorned with tiny pots of aloe plants and cacti, held an old fashioned alarm clock and a photo of Rika and V together. Jumin didn't want to look at it but V's smile was so bright it hurt.
Jihyun was opening his closet and he mumbled, "Pick anything you want," past his toothbrush. Jumin nodded in appreciation as V walked back to the bathroom.
Sliding through V's closet, Jumin realized that V had a lot of button-up shirts like himself, but more casual. But V also had lots of t-shirts and cardigans and sweaters, so many pastels and colors other than Jumin's preferred grey.
Jumin settled on a baby blue long-sleeved shirt and checked to make sure V was inside the bathroom, busy, before hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He didn't want V to see him shirtless. Jumin slipped off his dress shirt, then started pulling on V's shirt. The fabric was thin and stretchy, foreign to Jumin who hardly ever wore 'regular' shirts.
Little did Jumin know, V glanced back at his best friend over his shoulder and saw Jumin's flat stomach and broad chest. He tipped his head- Jumin was usually very concealed, he wore lots of layers and didn't like to show skin, so V didn't remember the last time he'd seen his best friend like this. Turning away quietly, V pretended like he hadn't seen.
Jumin closed his eyes as he brought the shirt over his head. He was wrapped in the warm, sawdust-smell of V, like the feel of warm sand between your toes. Jumin looked at himself in the floor-length mirror propped up against the wall and shrugged. He looked okay. The shirt was a little tight because his shoulders were wider than V's, but it fit anyways.
V walked smoothly out of the bathroom, and Jumin looked away quickly. He was only wearing his boxers as he walked over to his closet. V looked at Jumin over his shoulder. "That shirt looks good on you. Keep it." Jumin wanted to shake his head, but V wasn't looking at him anymore. V's ribs peeked out from under his skin, and Jumin had never seen the muscles on his back stretch like the way they did when he reached up to the top shelf in his closet. He felt bad for looking.
V pulled on his shirt, one he knew Rika liked, and slipped on his shoes. Jumin fussed with his hair for a bit, then followed V out of the dorm to the parking lot.
...
"Why's it so loud?" Jumin called over the music, and V laughed musically, pulling Jumin's hand with him into the dance floor. The club was large and booming, bodies pressed together as they danced to the heavy beat. Strobe lights caught in Jumin's eyes as he followed V deeper into the crowd, pushing past others as their sweat and heavy breaths lingered on his skin. Men and women in skin-tight clothes that exposed more skin than necessary slid through the crowd with ease, carrying large trays with shots of amber liquid over their heads. Jumin grabbed one off a passing waiter; he knew he'd need it.
Finally, they arrived at their large group of friends, and Jumin's comfort level stabilized just a little. He was uneasy in a group of drunk strangers (except in the work environment when he wasn't required to dance), but maybe a group of drunk friends would be better. Everyone was there, except MC of course. Rika and Jihyun connected at once, and then Yoosung and Saeran were together as well. Saeyoung was off doing some weird dance with a group of equally weird strangers, and Zen was leaning up against a pillar not very far away. He looked drunk, but not in a bad way. Jumin regarded him slowly as he downed his shot.
As the night went on and Jumin got increasingly more and more drunk, Zen seemed to get more and more hot, his stupid grey t-shirt and weird-ass hair and pretty eyes... what the fuck, dude? Jumin didn't even want to look at V and Rika, who were laughing and kissing and being a couple... ew. Jumin didn't need that. He rolled his eyes as he took another shot. He'd show V... he was an independent person, he could get a guy no problem. And Zen was looking like a quality option.
Jumin caught Zen's eye and beckoned him over, eyes walking over his shirt that clung to his chest. Jumin had seen the movie posters, he admitted that Zen was incredibly attractive, but he'd never been this drunk, this jealous, in front of V. Zen's steps were shaky, but as soon he was close to Jumin, he stabilized, eyebrows drawn together. "What do you want, jerk?" he asked, voice husky and low. Jumin's hands shook as he leaned in close to Zen's ear, lower lip grazing Zen's earlobe.
"Why don't you... spend the night... with me?" Jumin pulled back and Zen's eyelids were lowered. He nodded slowly, and the music pushed them together, Jumin's hands on Zen's bare skin that his t-shirt, which rode up, revealed. He was incredibly pale, Jumin looked forward to leaving marks on his skin, then flinched at the thought. Zen's hands were over his chest. Jumin saw V kiss Rika over Zen's shoulder and scowled. On a whim, he pressed his lips to Zen's smooth neck and scraped his teeth over the soft skin. Zen hummed and reached his arms up around Jumin's back. His fingertips grazed Jumin's shoulderblades.
V watched Rika disappear through the crowd and turned back to Jumin, who had been standing quietly to the side before, but now Jihyun faces Zen's back with Jumin's hands on his hips, lips against his neck. V watched in confusion as Jumin kissed Zen's neck. Suddenly, the raven-haired looked up and locked eyes with V, and hesitated. V raised his eyebrows, concerned, but Jumin held the gaze as he bared his teeth and bit slightly into Zen's skin, making the younger shiver. V saw it. He turned away.
...
Jumin's roommate wasn't home. He assumed that the dude was off having sex with his girlfriend, but Jumin didn't really care. He had Zen against a wall and didn't want anything to interrupt them. He'd lock the door from the inside if he had to.
Saeyoung, the designated driver, had driven them to the dorm, along with V and Rika, in his sports car. Jumin had been pleasantly satisfied when He got to sit in the passenger seat to watch V's anxious expressions at Zen the whole ride to the university. It was refreshing.
Zen's hair was down and over his bare chest and Jumin ran his hands over it. "Almost as pretty as Elizabeth," he teased drunkenly, and Zen broke the kiss, scowling.
"Way to ruin the moment, you dick." Jumin grabbed him by his belt loops and yanked his back, smirking.
"I'm only joking," he said as he pushed Zen towards the bed.
As Zen helped him pull off his shirt, the flowery smell of V left Jumin and instead, Zen's cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol took over, filling his senses and consuming his mind.
...
Jumin woke up with the urge to sneeze. His eyelids fluttered open and, for a brief second, he was horrified. Zen's face was right below his, laying across his chest, fingers splayed over Jumin's heart. It all came rushing back with a painful, hangover-induced headache. Jumin sighed. So he'd chosen Zen, huh? Well, he's better than Saeyoung.
Sudden panic filled his head as he remembered his flower problem. What if he'd coughed during his night with Zen? What if Zen knew?! He focused on his chest which usually aches with the constant threat of petals, but he found that, oddly, he felt better than ever. Was it Zen? ...Did having sexual contact with someone else lessen the pain?
Even if that was the case, Jumin didn't want to spend the night with Zen- or anyone else for that matter- again. Even though, physically, he felt better, emotionally he knew that he'd done it out of jealousy, a will to make Jihyun pay attention to him, see him, even if it had a negative effect, and that left a foggy, gross slick of guilt over his heart.
Jumin looked down at Zen, who looked peaceful for once, unlike his usual scowl he had on whenever he saw Jumin, and exhaled heavily through his nose. Zen was sober now. Jumin assumed that sober-Zen would be disgusted by the events of the night, and would probably end up punching Jumin and accusing him of rape... but what was Jumin supposed to do? He couldn't just leave Zen here, who knows what he'd do- probably go snooping around Jumin's belongings and end up having an allergic reaction to Elizabeth's cat hair that occasionally dusted Jumin's suits.
Zen shifted and the sheets fell away to expose his wide, muscled back with its smooth skin. Jumin absently ran his fingers through Zen's long hair (which he didn't particularly like but it was soft anyway) and waited for the young man to wake up.
20 minutes later, Zen groaned loudly and opened his eyes. "What the fuck?" was the first thing he said, followed closely by, "How drunk was I...?"
He swiftly jumped out of bed and began searching for his clothes, pausing to glare at Jumin and say, "you didn't rape me or anything, right?"
Jumin shook his head quickly, "I'm as disgusted as you are." Something about that comment made Zen flinch, but Jumin has no idea why.
"Well," Zen said as he pulled on his shirt, "I don't remember anything so I'm sure it was awful. I'm leaving now, don't you dare tell anyone about this." Jumin nodded from his place on the bed. Zen looked at him one last time before leaving the dorm and slamming the door behind him.
Jumin sighed for the thousandth time that morning and slowly stood, stretching up towards his low ceiling until his fingertips grazed the plaster. He sunk back down and headed to the bathroom, rubbing his eyes as he walked. His roommate was, thankfully, nowhere in sight and it looked like he hadn't stopped at the dorm either. Jumin would probably die of embarrassment if his strictly straight roommate walked in on him and Zen doing it.
The steam from the shower left Jumin feeling alert and less sore, waking up his aching muscles. Their night had been rough, a mix of raw passion and drunken anger and a stupid rivalry. Jumin mulled over the taste of Zen's smoke that lingered on his chapped, puffy lips while his coffee brewed, spreading a warm comfort around the dorm. Jumin sipped at it gingerly as he scrolled through his schedule of the day. He only had two classes, on in the afternoon and one at night, so he could relax now. Jumin's damp black hair fell over his eyes as he leaned forward, resting his head on the table. Party nights always left him exhausted.
...
Zen parked carefully in front of the diner before pulling on his sunglasses and the hood of his sweatshirt. He noticed a group of teenage girls giggling their way down the street and quickly tucked away into the diner's front door, breathing a sigh of relief when they passed without stopping. He left his accessories on but found his normal spot at the bar as he waited for Fiona, the manager and head waitress, to take his order. He'd been coming here for years so usually, she'd just bring him what he usually got before he sped off to the gym or dance rehearsal, but he had time this morning and was feeling pretty sore, so he told Fiona to take her time.
"'I'm as disgusted as you are'." What was that supposed to mean, Trust Fund? True, Zen didn't exactly award himself the Medal of Good Decisions for his night with Jumin, and of course, he would never admit to Jumin that he'd enjoyed it, but the son of the CEO was hot nonetheless, and the previous night had been actually pretty good for Zen. He felt more relaxed even though his mind was racing.
He couldn't possibly like Jumin, so this must be lust or some weird chemical reaction from doing something like that with someone you've previously hated. Zen was tired of fighting with Jumin, but it had become the norm now. People didn't expect them to get along together, they were poked fun at in their friend group. But honestly, Zen wanted to... share something with Jumin. He didn't care that they had fought so many times, he wanted to be close to Jumin, and he didn't care what everyone would say.
There was, of course, the problem of his fans. As much as he loved them, there'd be an outcry if they knew that he was bi, not to mention if he started dating Jumin. And that was another problem, Jumin was the son of a CEO of a major business company, a scandal like the two of them would be broadcasted everywhere, especially when combined with Zen's fame. There's no way it would work but even still, Zen kept on thinking back to that half-asleep half-awake state he had been in when he'd felt Jumin's soft hands on his skin.
...
When MC woke up, he was alone. The hospital room was empty, and his mother's purse was not on his bedside table. He glanced at his clock. 8:26. That was strange, Saeran usually came in and said hello before school, but MC guessed he shouldn't be surprised that his best friend didn't show up, he hadn't for the past week, only called over the phone to chat for brief intervals. MC was growing pretty lonely because of it and he wondered if it might've been something he did, but it didn't matter anyway: he was getting discharged today.
He was up and walking the halls with his mom when she was here, and his chest had been healing well. The long line of stitches would leave a scar, but it would look pretty cool, if MC thought about it. He untangled himself from his IV and got up, stretching carefully. True, his muscles were weak from so much bedrest, but he'd be back in school soon, a fucking legend after his lung resection or whatever Saeran had called it. Anyhow, he was ready to come out of the hospital, no matter how much rest his mother said he still needed.
He texted his mom, who, by now, would be at work, and told her he was going home, to which she replied with a few worried 'be careful's and 'call a cab's. The paperwork was a freaking mountain, and he had to take several bottles of pain meds with him, but he eventually got out of the hospital, deeply inhaling the fresh air like he'd been starved of oxygen. He called the cab company and sat down on one of the benches in front of the main entrance, leaning against the backrest.
The sound of an old, cranky engine jolted MC from his stupor, and when he looked up at the old blue car in front of him, he saw Saeran leaning over the center console to call, "You need a ride?" MC stood up so suddenly he nearly toppled over, but quickly regained his balance and swung into the passenger seat. He barely managed to put on his seatbelt before Saeran stomped on the gas and they sped out of the hospital parking lot, MC clumsily texting 'CANCEL' to the cab company as they pulled onto the main road.
As much as MC wanted to talk to Saeran, his best friend had cranked up the radio to old rock, and the electric guitar would've drowned out his words. Saeran's messy appearance suggested that he'd just woken up, his hair sticking up at odd angles and wearing sweatpants and one of Yoosung's shirt. It was tight on him. MC wondered if maybe they'd slept together. They ran a stop sign and Saeran didn't even acknowledge it. No police officers in sight, MC assumed they'd be okay. Saeran knew the shortcut to MC's house, through the alley behind the sports bar, then left and left again until he pulled into MC's driveway.
Saeran turned off the car, leaving the two of them in stunning silence as the rock anthem stopped abruptly. "Thanks for the ride," MC said meekly, still a bit shaken up by the sudden ride. Saeran waved him off and started searching in the console for a pack of gum. "By the way... I know I might be reading into it too much, but have you been avoiding me?" Saeran looked up with eyes that were lazy just seconds ago, now wide and alert.
"Why would I be avoiding you?" he asked, concerned. MC sighed and looked out the windshield.
"You just used to make a really big deal out of visiting me every morning, but you've been weird lately, it's kind of unsettling." Saeran turned onto his hip to face MC, whose breath was stale and whose hair smelled like baby shampoo. Saeran didn't even think, he just raised his hand to MC's cheek and forced him to turn his head. MC's huge brown eyes were innocent and framed by thick black lashes and he leaned into Saeran's hand, a curious smile tugging at one side of his lips. Saeran tried to imagine kissing him like this, before MC's surgery when he was still normal.
MC was like a porcelain doll, with fragile feelings that could shatter too easily. Saeran should have known he'd get too attached, he should have known that MC was susceptible to affection. Saeran was the stupid one here, for not realizing. And now it was too late, and MC was a softer, more patient, more polite version of himself. Saeran looked into his giant eyes and wondered where he'd gone wrong. Was it his fault that he didn't love MC back? If he fell for him now, would things go back to normal? Or was that the point, the pain and loss came from the unrequited love.
Could I love you? Saeran asked MC in his head as he watched his best friend stare back at him. He wondered what MC saw in his eyes. He wondered what the difference of sight was between pre- and post-surgery MC. It was cause and effect, Saeran realized as he traced the thin skin beneath MC's eye with his thumb. Their hookups caused MC to fall in love, Saeran's relationship caused MC to develop the flowers, the flowers caused MC to almost die, which caused the surgery. It was all because of Saeran. He pulled away and MC was stupidly indifferent. If Saeran had held his face like that before, his round cheeks would flush with rose and he'd forget how to be skillful with words for a few moments. Saeran rubbed his eyes, recognizing how blissfully oblivious he had been before Jumin had told him what the truth was.
And that was yet another question, how the fuck did Jumin know? Was he... in love with someone too? No, that couldn't be possible, cold-hearted, emotionless corporate heir, Jumin Han, suffering from someone not loving him? But didn't business people worship the ground he walked on, just like teenage girls with Zen? Couldn't he virtually have anyone he wanted? With that kind of money at least... Saeran closed his eyes, averting his mind from the thought of Jumin with a significant other. An old gossip magazine floated into his subconscious and he almost snorted aloud when he remembered the title, 'Does Jumin Han is Gay?'. What a thought, Jumin being gay...
"Saeran?" MC's light voice broke Saeran out of his deep-thinking state, and he snapped to attention. What had MC been asking again...? Oh, right, Saeran not visiting.
Saeran put on his best, convincing grin and looked at MC, "I promise, I've just been busy, I haven't been avoiding you at all. I'm sorry if it came off as that way..." MC seemed pleased with the answer and nodded happily. He said that he was glad to hear it before lingering only a few seconds, then saying goodbye, thank you, see you soon, and stepping out of the car. He closed the door firmly before jogging to his front door and disappearing inside. As Saeran sped off, uncertainty began growing in his stomach, and he tried to swallow his fear for his best friend.
...
It was late and Jumin had classes the next day, but he felt so light and comfortable, he thought that even though the guilt was heavy, he could stand to go out and get his mind off things. So where was his destination? It was the wine outlet first, and then to the club, where he surreptitiously poured a copious amount of wine into a large flask he had found in one of his bags. He was looking for a distraction, a distraction from Zen, V, Saeran, MC, and everyone else. Unfortunately, this was also the workplace of two of his least favorite people, Saeyoung and his boss, Vanderwood. This would be a long night if Jumin didn't get in and out without being spotted by the two.
As Jumin walked into the shady-looking building, he whisked airily past the line and guard- his new tux smelled like cash, and that's what this club was about. It was different from the club he had been at the previous night, this one was for the rich and well-off. Women paraded around in expensive (and extremely short) dresses and tall heels, carrying platters of various equally expensive alcoholic concoctions. Well, that is, most of them were women. Only a few minutes after Jumin walked in the doors, he was found by none other than 'Ms. Choi'.
"Jumin, dahling, what are you doing here? You know this is where I work. Or... did you come to accept my offer about Elly? You also know that she loves me most, the precious diamond." The waitress batted her eyelashes, flicking her waist-length, straight red hair over the puffy shoulder of her maid outfit.
"Saeyoung, you exhaust me. Find me a table, will you?" Saeyoung adjusted his lacey choker and rolled his eyes. Jumin thought his cross-dressing "hobby" was a bit too much, even for someone as extravagant as Saeyoung. He wore a mini maid dress with tule puffing out the skirt, long black stockings, and mile-high Stilletos that matched his hair. His gold eyes shimmered with eyeshadow and were lined with charcoal-black.
"Fine," he huffed, and flounced off, winking at a man in a similar tuxedo to Jumin's. Jumin looked over to the bar where he knew Vanderwood was, and to his dismay but not surprise, the man was bending over the bar, smiling flirtily with a man twice his age, pushing a shot of something amber-colored at him before moving onto the next customer.
Jumin felt uncomfortable here. It was for people with money they had nothing to buy with, so they used it for guilty pleasures while their neat, oblivious family sat at home, thinking that their dad (or mom) was at some late-night meeting instead of slinking around, buying drinks, and checking out scantily-clad women (and one scantily-clad man). Jumin thought it was disgusting, but he needed some sort of distraction for the night and he knew the deep-bass jazz and his secretive wine would dull his guilt-ridden conscious of his night with Zen.
...
hey guys! im so so so sorry this took so long to write, it's a bit longer than the others and ive also been struggling on the storyline. im also approaching finals week so studying had been a major block... anyways, i hope youve enjoyed this chapter, i will try my best to update this weekend or by next weekend :) love you guys!