Chapter Text
The first person Jaebeom tells is Daehyun.
A gallery exhibit has just opened featuring some of Daehyun’s paintings, and it’s the evening of the member’s preview party. The two of them are standing in front of one of Jaebeom’s favourite paintings of Daehyun’s. It’s dark, deep blues and blacks and greys. The texture of the oil paints is jagged, leaping out of the canvas like waves, but the painting itself is of a narrow space, like an alley-way or prison cell, lined with people. Mark has gone off to grab them some champagne from the bar, and Jinyoung is running late after practice.
Jaebeom isn’t sure what possesses him to say it, but he’s been sitting on it since last night without telling anyone, and it just spills out as he looks at the painting.
“I’m getting married.”
“Oh really?” Daehyun turns his head to raise a disbelieving eyebrow at Jaebeom. “Does Jinyoung know?”
“What does Jinyoung…” Jaebeom trails off with a sigh, eyes tracing the figures in the painting. “No, I didn’t get a chance to tell him.”
“Tell who what?” Mark asks, stepping up beside Daehyun with three champagne flutes balanced between his fingers.
“Jinyoung,” Daehyun says, extracting one of the glasses. “He’s getting married.”
“Jinyoung’s getting married?” Mark squeaks, almost dropping Jaebeom’s glass as he passes it to him.
“No,” Jaebeom grumbles, snatching his champagne before it spills. “I’m getting married.”
“Ah,” Mark says with a relieved grin, before his face falls suddenly as the words sink in properly. “You’re getting married? Since when?”
“Since last night.” Jaebeom shrugs. “Jinyoung was asleep when I got home, so I didn’t get a chance to tell him.”
Mark fixes Jaebeom with a tense look, eyebrows furrowed and eyes searching. “I thought you were just going out for dinner with Nayeon’s parents and yours?”
“That’s what I thought too,” Jaebeom says under his breath, bringing his champagne glass up to his mouth and moving his gaze back to the painting, avoiding eye contact.
“Are you gonna tell Jinyoung when he gets here?” Mark asks.
“I…” Jaebeom shrugs again. He feels sick with nerves at the thought of having to tell Jinyoung. Now that he’s told someone, the urgency is gone, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else. The more people know, the realer it becomes. But it would hurt Jinyoung to leave him out, and Jaebeom can’t bear to let that happen. “Yeah, I guess.”
“And ruin the gallery opening?” Daehyun says, putting on an affronted tone. “This place is embarrassing enough for me without you two rowing in the middle of the room.”
Jaebeom frowns, finally tearing his eyes away from the huddled figures in the painting to turn back to Daehyun and Mark. “You think he’ll be upset?”
“Do I think he’ll be upset?” Daehyun scoffs like he’s about to say ‘duh’, before Mark puts a hand on his arm with a tense look.
Neatly, Mark guides them into the centre of the room to allow others to get a look at the painting, and fixes Jaebeom with a look that brooks no argument. “I think you should wait until after to tell him. Privately,” he says firmly. With a deep inhale, he turns to smile at Daehyun, raising his glass. “Anyways. This is Daehyun’s big night. Congrats, Dae.”
“Thanks,” Daehyun says with a grimace, clinking his glass against Mark’s. “I’ve finally sold out.”
The tall glass doors to the outside open, bringing a bluster of snow and Jinyoung. The three of them watch him as he deposits his wet coat in the coat-check, stuffing his scarf down the sleeve and showing his invitation. Jaebeom can’t help but smile as Jinyoung tugs nervously on his blue pullover as he searches the room for them, fussing over the exact shape of his clothes. When he spots them, Jinyoung grins broadly and hurries over.
“We’re going ahead with Sylphide,” he says excitedly instead of greeting them.
“Wow!” Mark smiles back, just as Daehyun shakes his head.
“What is with you people and overshadowing my night with your monumentally bigger news?” Daehyun complains, but he’s already grinning.
Jinyoung smile dims to an apologetic one, ruffling his wet hair off his forehead. “Sorry, I was too excited. What other news though?”
There’s a weird pause as Mark and Daehyun obviously try very hard not to look at Jaebeom.
“Me,” Mark blurts out. “My news. The museum has finally greenlit the exhibition design proposal I’ve been working on.”
“Are you serious?” Daehyun grumbles, putting a hand on his hip and narrowing his eyes at Mark.
“Yeah, I am actually. Just this morning. Sorry.” Mark shrugs, giving Jaebeom a significant look out of the corner of his eye. As if Jaebeom needs more convincing to put off telling Jinyoung the news. It’s making him so nervous he’d rather never tell him. Never get married. Now there’s an idea.
“Mark that’s amazing! …But Daehyun is right, this is his night. First gallery show featuring his paintings!” Jinyoung glances between the glasses in their hands with a little put-upon pout. “Why don’t I have a drink?”
With a beleaguered sigh, Jaebeom hands Jinyoung his champagne flute. Jinyoung takes it, but makes a childishly displeased face. “This has been sipped on, Jaebeom.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jaebeom says, waving his hand and tugging Mark by the elbow towards the bar where fleets of champagne flutes are set up. “I’ll get you a new one.”
With a twinkle in his eye, Jinyoung gives Jaebeom a smug smile, and takes a sip of his newly acquired champagne despite his complaints, before turning to talk to Daehyun.
“Why do you think Jinyoung will be upset?” Jaebeom asks Mark as soon as they’re out of earshot of the other two.
“Why do you?”
“There’s no need for psychoanalysis,” Jaebeom grouses. “I… I don’t know how he’ll react, I’m just nervous about telling him.” An understatement, really. Worry churns Jaebeom’s stomach and constricts his heart. The worst part is he can’t quite put his finger on why. Jinyoung is his best friend, and hopefully will be his best man. In an ideal world, Jinyoung would be over the moon, and Jaebeom would be just as thrilled to tell him. Although, in an ideal world, Jaebeom probably wouldn’t be getting married to Nayeon in the first place.
“Well, you know how Jinyoung is with change,” Mark says quietly, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Break it to him slowly. Give him time to digest before you expect a happy reaction from him.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Are you… going to tell him the truth now?” Mark asks suddenly when they reach the bar. “About you and Nayeon?”
“No. Why would I tell him now? It’s one thing dating a girl just to please my father. It’s another thing marrying her just to please him,” Jaebeom scoffs, before softening his voice to a plea. “Mark, you’re the only person who knows. Please don’t… I know it’ll upset Jinyoung to think I’m being forced into this.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I… Nayeon and I get along fine,” Jaebeom says, trying to give Mark a reassuring smile. “I like her, she’s cool.”
“I’ve never heard a more passionate declaration of love,” Mark interrupts dryly.
“I’m not being forced to do anything,” Jaebeom continues firmly, shooting Mark an annoyed frown. “I’m doing what’s expected of me, yes. But I still… I still have a choice.”
Jaebeom looks down at his hands resting on the bartop, suddenly reluctant to meet Mark’s concerned gaze. Maybe this lie—of him and Nayeon being a happy couple, of him being in love with her—is what makes Jaebeom so nervous to tell Jinyoung.
All those years of Jaebeom’s father suggesting eligible young bachelorettes for him, and Jinyoung worrying and fussing about Jaebeom really being happy. Jaebeom couldn’t stand it. So he made himself happy. At least for Jinyoung. And to tell Jinyoung that this happy relationship with Nayeon has been a bit of a sham this whole time? Jaebeom wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of Jinyoung’s disappointment.
And it’s easy with Nayeon. Jaebeom doubts they’ll ever have the loving romantic relationship a husband and wife should share, but they care about each other. Nayeon is fun, lively, they’re compatible. Ever since Jinyoung introduced Jaebeom to Nayeon, one of his coworker’s friends, they had just clicked. Their parents were only too thrilled to discover they were acquainted.
Most importantly, they’re on the same page. They both understand their marriage won’t be about love, but duty. Like Jaebeom, Nayeon has stressed that her friends don’t need to know all the details. As far as everyone else knows, Jaebeom and Nayeon are a handsome young couple very much in love.
Excluding Mark, who Jaebeom spilled everything to months ago in a moment of weakness. Better him than Jinyoung, anyway.
“Just…” Mark cuts himself off with a sigh, picking up a couple champagne flutes and handing them to Jaebeom. “Just don’t do anything you’ll regret, okay, Jaebeom? Think things over. For everyone’s sake.”
“I have,” Jaebeom answers. He doesn’t linger on it long enough to examine whether it’s a lie or not.
“You’re afraid?” Mark asks, trying to get a few more words in before they reach Jinyoung and Daehyun. “Of telling Jinyoung?”
“No, I’m not afraid.” And that Jaebeom knows is a lie.
With Mark still radiating deep concern, they make their way back over to Daehyun and Jinyoung.
“So which one is Sylphide again?” Daehyun is asking.
Predictably, Jinyoung has already emptied Jaebeom’s glass, and waves it with a tsk. “No, no! No more talk of us. Only your paintings.”
“Please Jinyoung, I was joking. I’d love to talk about anything that isn’t this tacky,” Daehyun pauses to offer a tight-lipped smile to a bunch of people walking by, lowering his voice “...this tacky place.”
Taking the new glass from Jaebeom, Jinyoung glances at the paintings hung on the white walls around them. Not all of them are Daehyun’s, but curated to fit a certain theme that his fall into. Like any of these small galleries, the building itself has a brutalistic streak to highlight the art, bare concrete floors, ceiling a tangle of exposed pipes and lighting.
“Well…” Jinyoung turns back to Daehyun with a placating smile, “La Sylphide is the ballet with the fairies. In Scotland.”
“This was Hakyeon’s project, right? Queering the classics,” Mark asks.
“Yes, I’m- that’s why I was so excited, he’s thinking of me to play the Sylphide herself. Or himself, in this case. It’s an ideal ballet for it, really,” Jinyoung babbles on, eyes lit up, “because the Sylphide and James don’t have a lot of things like lifts in their pas de deux which might be difficult for two men to pull off. But I think Hakyeon wants the Sylphide to still be en pointe, which will be challenging enough for a man.”
“You’ve done that before though, haven’t you?” Jaebeom asks, pushing aside all thought of Nayeon and the wedding, and telling Jinyoung. All in due time.
“Of course, but only for smaller comedic roles. It’ll be quite another animal to play a role like the Sylphide.” Jinyoung takes the second glass of champagne from Jaebeom and aims a little pout around at the three of them. “Okay, I feel bad talking about myself, no matter what you say Daehyun!”
“Fine,” Daehyun groans, lolling his head back dramatically. With a put-upon sigh, he knocks back the rest of his champagne. “I’m supposed to mingle anyway. Come save me in twenty minutes.”
With that, he takes Jinyoung’s empty glass along with his and drops them off at the bar, picking up a fresh drink for himself before swanning over to a group of people. From across the room, the three of them can’t help but share a laugh at the charming smile Daehyun plasters on as he inserts himself into the strangers’ conversation.
The rest of the evening passes in a swirl of mindless chatter and painting viewing.
Although Jaebeom’s there mostly to support his friend, his father has always impressed upon him the importance of making connections. Most of the people in the gallery are small-time, not big enough for Jaebeom’s father’s company to donate any money to, but Jaebeom can always dream.
As much as he knows he’s doing good in the corporate social responsibility team, finding worthy causes in arts and science to donate money to in the company’s name, the causes have to be well-known, reliable, stable. It’s for the tax breaks and the good PR, really. But the position is a compromise Jaebeom has always been proud of. Working for his father, just as he was meant to, but as close to the arts as he can manage.
So he mingles, pulling out his own most charming smile. He likes to think he’s a little better at it than Daehyun, due to practice alone. Mark and Jinyoung are left to sip champagne and people-watch on a bench, thoroughly uninterested in talking to strangers.
They reconvene on the sidewalk outside what must be hours later, huddling in their coats against the December chill. The snow banks along the edge of the sidewalk gleam blue and yellow in the light from the moon and weak streetlamps scattered around.
“It’s fucking freezing,” Daehyun complains, shoulders up by his ears. “Yongguk’s coming to pick me up, you guys okay getting home?”
“Subway,” Jinyoung answers with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Jaebeom’s and staying there.
“I left my bike at the museum, so I’d better get going,” Mark says, gesturing over his shoulder in the direction of the museum only a few blocks away. Clapping Daehyun on the back, Mark grins. “Congratulations again, man.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Daehyun scoffs, smiling and pushing him off. “You’re biking in this weather? What’s wrong with you?”
With a wave, Mark turns and starts off down the sidewalk towards the museum. The last look he shoots Jaebeom is grave, cheerful smile slipping off his face like he’s looking upon a man headed to the gallows. Or maybe Jaebeom is just being dramatic.
Daehyun sighs, looking back into the gallery through its massive glass windows as he pulls his coat tighter around him. “Do you think I’ve sold out?”
“No,” Jinyoung says diplomatically, shrugging. “You’re getting your art to a broader audience. Who better to benefit from the messages of your art than these…” he lowers his voice as a gaggle of people exit the gallery, “vapid Yorkville socialites. It’s only selling out if you change your art to suit their tastes.”
The honk of a car horn interrupts Jinyoung before he can say anything else, and the three of them turn to see Yongguk’s car by the curb. They walk Daehyun over, helping him scramble over the snow bank onto the road.
“Hey,” Jinyoung says, leaning in as Yongguk rolls the window down to greet them. “Couldn’t make it to the opening?”
“Oh no, I’m banned,” Yongguk replies with an easy smile. “I think he’s embarrassed of me.”
“Don’t worry, from the amount of complaining he did, it’s definitely this place he’s embarrassed of, not you,” Jinyoung laughs, and Jaebeom can’t help but grin too. Daehyun shoots them both a sour look as he gets into the car.
“Well, I’d better get our local up-and-coming artist home before he’s mobbed by fans wanting autographs,” Yongguk says, still grinning even as Daehyun smacks his arm. “You two sure you don’t want a ride?”
“We’re fine, thanks.” Jaebeom waves, stepping away from the car and tugging the belt of Jinyoung’s coat to make him follow.
They wave until Yongguk’s car is out of sight, and turn to head towards the subway.
“So what happens in Sylphide again?” Jaebeom asks as they walk, jostling their shoulders together for warmth as he drops his hand away from Jinyoung’s back. “She dies right? And like… saves her boyfriend from dying when she’s a ghost?”
Jinyoung frowns in confusion, before smiling teasingly at Jaebeom, cheeks already rosy from the cold. “You’re probably thinking of Giselle. No, it’s about this fairy, the Sylphide, and she falls in love with a mortal man.”
As Jinyoung continues the story, Jaebeom watches his face carefully, finally feeling calm after an evening of talking and smiling politely and being on. The news he has to share with Jinyoung still pulls at Jaebeom’s heart painfully, but it’s easier to ignore when Jinyoung smiles dreamily and speaks low and private, to not disturb the nightlife of the city.
“The man is James, and he’s engaged to be married to Effie, a mortal woman. The first act is all about the preparations for their wedding, in his family’s house. A witch called Madge intrudes upon the celebrations, and though James wants to throw her out of the house, Effie convinces him to let her stay. She tells the fortunes of all the young ladies. When she gets to Effie, she reveals that Effie’s future lies not with James, but with Gurn, another man who loves her. That’s when James throws Madge out.”
“What about the Sylphide?” Jaebeom asks, taking advantage of the pause as they each beep their passes to get on the subway.
“She visits James while he’s sleeping. It’s clear she loves him, and she even wraps herself in Effie’s shawl, as if she could take her place. It’s after the engagement party that James wakes to see the Sylphide. She reveals to him that she loves him, has for a long time, and has been watching over him, protecting him. The first act ends when the Sylphide steals the ring James is meant to give to Effie. James runs off, following her into the forest.
“The second act is all in the forest, the domain of the witches and the fairies. The witch from earlier, Madge, wants to get revenge on James for his earlier impertinence. The Sylphide introduces James to the other Sylphs, and the world of the forest. As they dance, she always seems to be dancing away from him, and he can’t catch her.” As if a switch is flipped, Jinyoung looks up at Jaebeom and says matter-of-factly, “Which is why there’s no issues with lifts and such.”
“Anyway, James is desperate to find a way to make the Sylphide his, and Madge finds him then. She offers him a scarf or shawl, and tells him that he must wrap it around the Sylphide. It will make her wings fall off, making her mortal, and then they can be together. What Madge doesn’t tell him is that if the Sylphide’s wings fall off, she will die almost immediately. James and the Sylphide dance again, and he finally manages to catch her and wrap her in the scarf. Of course, just as Madge said, her wings fall off. She is devastated, weakens quickly, and then dies. The other Sylphs carry her away, and James collapses. Madge crows in victory over his body, and in the distance, Effie and Gurn’s marriage procession is going by. And that’s the end.”
Jaebeom nods solemnly, but he’s interrupted by the train pulling into the station before he can say anything. When they’re finally seated inside, shoulders leaning against each other, he nods again. “Cheery. It’s one of your favourites, though, right? Some of these things sound familiar. Like she’s in a big poofy skirt in the window, he’s kneeling before her in a kilt?”
“Yeah,” Jinyoung says with a broad smile, like he’s happy Jaebeom remembers. The way he’s pressing excitedly against him makes Jaebeom realize that the glasses of champagne must be getting to Jinyoung. “It’s a very visually striking piece. It takes place in Scotland, so all the mortals are in tartan. I don’t know what ideas Hakyeon has been giving the costume department for ours, but. I know he’s a bit torn over the costuming for the Sylphs. He said he doesn’t want to put me in a big poofy skirt, but it will be more difficult to achieve that airy quality of the fairies if I’m just in tights.”
“I’m sure you could do it,” Jaebeom offers absently. “You think you’ve definitely got it then? The part?”
“Hakyeon says unless the company wants to pull me for a bigger production, yeah!” Jinyoung fiddles with his scarf shyly, lowering his voice again. “Honestly, I really want to do it, rather than another big production right after coming off Nutcracker.”
“Come on.” Jaebeom nudges Jinyoung with a grin. “You love doing The Nutcracker. You’ve only been in it a thousand times.”
“Everyone loves doing The Nutcracker,” Jinyoung replies in a teasing tone, rolling his eyes playfully as he matches Jaebeom’s grin, nudging him back. “It would just be nice to be a part of something like this. Small scale, sort of. Small scale for us, anyway. It would just be the one dancer per role.”
“Has anyone else been cast?”
“Hakyeon’s already got the okay for Mina Myoui as Effie,” Jinyoung says. “She’s my Clara this year for Nutcracker.”
“Oh, yeah, she was great. Nayeon’s friend?” Jaebeom leans his head back against the subway window, eyes on Jinyoung.
He’s already seen Jinyoung’s Nutcracker twice this season. As much as Jaebeom loves supporting Jinyoung and seeing him onstage, he’ll admit The Nutcracker gets a bit old when you see it every year. But this year was quite refreshing. Jaebeom found himself entranced by the image of Jinyoung in his white tights and vibrant red jacket whirling his partner around a snowy forest, her long brown hair and pale nightgown billowing as they move. Not that Jaebeom’s biased or anything, but he rarely finds Jinyoung’s partner on the same level as Jinyoung himself, never quite as captivating. Every time Jaebeom sees Jinyoung dance his chest swells with pride and admiration.
Jinyoung is nodding, lips tight as he fiddles with his scarf again. “That’s right, Nayeon’s friend. Hakyeon says he’s having trouble with James, because of height requirements. I’m hardly tall, but in pointe shoes… He wants us to look properly proportioned. There’s also the issue of the corps, the other Sylphs. Typically they all look very uniform but I think Hakyeon’s not gonna go for that.”
With a tired little sigh, Jinyoung turns to Jaebeom, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy.
“Anyway.” Jinyoung pauses to smile brightly at Jaebeom, eyes squeezing into his whiskers. “How was your day?”
“Oh, you know,” Jaebeom shrugs, facing Jinyoung’s smile with a soft one of his own, “went to some meetings, signed some papers, answered some emails.”
“Nothing too exciting then,” Jinyoung mumbles, moving to lean his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder. “Mm, wake me up when we’re home.”
“If you think I’m carrying your heavy ass home from the subway station-”
“Heavy ass?” Jinyoung’s head whips up, fixing Jaebeom with an offended pout. “My ass is… just the right weight, thank you very much.”
“Just-” Jaebeom can’t help interrupting himself with a laugh at Jinyoung’s serious face, like he just said something terribly sensible. He reaches up to ruffle Jinyoung’s hair, pulling his head back down onto his shoulder. “Just rest until our stop.”
“Ugh, so rough,” Jinyoung complains sleepily, wiggling to find a comfortable position and wrapping his arms around Jaebeom’s at his side.
In the lull of conversation that follows, Jaebeom’s thoughts return. He tries to focus on the squeal and clatter of the train against the tracks, the low chatter of nearby clusters of people. Clear his head. It won’t help to make himself sick with anticipation, but Mark was right. Jaebeom is afraid. Not just of telling Jinyoung. It feels like his future is rushing towards him like a force of nature. A tornado spinning closer until it steals Jaebeom’s breath and tears him out this life. A colossal wave arcing above Jaebeom’s head, threatening to crash down and wash him away.
Perhaps it’s childish to want to cling to the known and the familiar. But Jaebeom feels so safe, secure with Jinyoung tucked up close to his side like this. The solid weight of him, the feeling of Jinyoung’s hair brushing his neck, the smell of him. Maybe it’s selfish, but Jaebeom values the comfort of having Jinyoung close more than anything.
Jinyoung’s not really asleep, but he groans and mumbles when they reach their stop, leaning on Jaebeom heavily. For a moment, Jaebeom is fooled, until he catches the mischievous curl of Jinyoung’s lips hidden in his scarf. They stumble home together from the station, pressed together like it’s much later and they’ve had much more to drink.
Jaebeom focuses on Jinyoung, and not falling over, and leads them home.
“I bought one of Daehyun’s paintings,” Jaebeom says when they get into their apartment, taking their shoes and coats off in the hall.
“That one you like? The blue one?” Jinyoung snorts a laugh before saying in a haughty voice, “From his blue period.”
“Yeah,” Jaebeom replies with a grin, grabbing the mail and bending down to greet Nora with his free hand. Fussily, she pushes her head into his hand that holds the mail, opening her mouth to nibble a corner of an envelope with a rasping noise.
Jinyoung heads straight to the kitchen, turning lights on as he goes, and comes out into the living room again with two bags of frozen mango slices. “Well it’s going to have to go in the spare room, because there’s nowhere for it in here.”
With a huff, Jinyoung sits down on the sofa and stretches his legs out, plonking a bag on each knee. After a moment he wrestles off his pullover, mussing up his hair in the process, before tossing it to the other end of the sofa. Jaebeom watches for a moment as tension practically seeps from Jinyoung’s body as he relaxes into the sofa, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.
Suddenly full of nervous energy, Jaebeom doesn’t sit down, wandering around the living room as he shuffles through mail. Besides, it’s alright for Jinyoung, who’s been dancing and exercising all day. Jaebeom’s just been sitting at his desk or in meetings. And the news he has to share with Jinyoung makes his heart flutter unsteadily like a bird in a cage.
“We could take down that thing,” Jaebeom says waving the mail at an old piece of his in the living room. “It’s about the same size.”
It’s all smudged dark conté with some terracotta colour here and there, back when Jaebeom had enough time and passion to get his hands messy for art. It’s old, maybe from the first year of university, not that Jaebeom’s gotten any better since then. The picture is of a man curled in a window reading, with just enough smudging and minor changes to be able to claim it’s not of Jinyoung. In his first year of university Jaebeom had been desperately trying to find time for his art, and missing Jinyoung terribly.
Cracking one eye open, Jinyoung frowns. “I happen to like that thing.”
Jaebeom sighs, shrugging as he drops the junk mail in the recycling. On autopilot, he moves into the kitchen to fill Nora’s food dish for dinner and refresh her water. Then he leans against the counter, trying to steady himself. From there Jaebeom can see into the living room and he watches Nora jump up on the sofa to nose curiously at the frozen mangos on Jinyoung’s knees, whiskers twitching. Absentmindedly, Jinyoung brings a hand up to pet her, closing his eyes again.
It hits Jaebeom then that his life with Jinyoung has an expiry date now. Standing in their kitchen watching Nora curl up with Jinyoung as he ices his knees after practice or a performance. Waking up to a smoothie in the fridge and a little note from Jinyoung on the white board telling Jaebeom to have a nice day. Sneaking photos and sketches of Jinyoung on the rare shared day off lounging around their apartment.
Jaebeom’s getting married, and that means he’ll be moving out. It doesn’t matter where they put Daehyun’s painting. Soon this won’t be Jaebeom’s home at all.
Before the worry can begin to churn his stomach, Jaebeom tries to brush the thoughts aside. This is the right thing to do. It’s like Mark said, change is difficult. Jinyoung isn’t the only one who has trouble with it. No matter how much it hurts, Jaebeom knows getting married is the right thing to do, for everyone.
It’s with this conviction that he steps into the living room and makes his way over to sit on the footstool in front of Jinyoung. Blinking, Jinyoung lifts his head to fix Jaebeom with a mildly curious look.
“Jinyoung, I’m…” Jaebeom takes the plunge, blurting the rest out quickly, “I’m getting married.”
Like he’s frozen, Jinyoung’s expression doesn’t change, eyes wide. After a few moments, he blinks, and his eyes shake as if he wants to break eye contact, but can’t.
“When?” Jinyoung asks in a small voice. He still hasn’t taken in a breath since Jaebeom told him. There’s a crunch as Jinyoung’s hands tighten to grip the frozen mangos resting on his legs.
“April.”
“April?” Jinyoung cries, aghast, pulling his legs off the footstool like he means to get up.
Jaebeom nods reluctantly, finding that he’s the one desperate to break eye contact, gaze drifting away only to snap back to Jinyoung’s face guiltily.
“That’s hardly four months away!” Jinyoung continues, barely pausing. “Wedding dresses should be considered five to eight months in advance! Never mind everything else! Wouldn’t it be too rushed?”
Okay, not exactly what Jaebeom was expecting Jinyoung to focus on. “Uhh… I don’t know? It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal?”
Jinyoung’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “Getting married?!”
“No, I mean, I figure Nayeon and her mother know… you know, enough about these things? To know it won’t be rushed to have it in April.”
“Hold on… you proposed at dinner with your parents last night?”
“Uh, yeah, sort of.” Jaebeom shrugs. It had been more like Nayeon’s mother and his father proposing the idea to them, and a hurried discussion between the two of them in the hall to the bathrooms. But Jinyoung doesn’t need to know that.
“She didn’t feel pressured into it, did she? With the audience?”
“No, we discussed it before. This was just for our parents’ benefit.” Jaebeom leans back with a frown. Something about Jinyoung’s questioning is rubbing him the wrong way, making him feel cornered and defensive. “What’s with the third degree? You congratulated Mark for a design proposal, but I’m getting married and it’s twenty questions?”
“...Mark…?” Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “He knew. You told Daehyun and Mark, that’s why they were talking about big news and being all weird?”
Finally back in familiar territory, Jaebeom reaches over to put a hand on Jinyoung’s knee. Or rather, on the bag of frozen mangos on his knee. “I wanted to tell you first Jinyoung, but we missed each other last night and this morning. I just had to tell someone. Daehyun got so bent out of shape about it though, I thought it would be best to leave it until we got home to tell you.”
“Okay.” Jinyoung nods, eyes on Jaebeom’s hand. With a little gasp, his gaze snaps back up to Jaebeom’s face. “You even went and bought her a ring without my help?”
Smiling softly, Jaebeom laughs. “Jinyoung, no offence, but you’ve never willingly worn a piece of jewellery in your life,” he says in a teasing tone. “I haven’t gotten her a ring yet, but if I’d take anyone, it would probably be Bambam, not you.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Jinyoung says with a sniff, letting his gaze drift away sullenly, pout still on his lips.
Jaebeom moves to take Jinyoung’s hand in his. The tips of their fingers are cold from leaving them on the thawing mangos on Jinyoung’s knee.
“I’d like you to be my best man though,” he offers solemnly, shaking Jinyoung’s hand lightly to try to make him meet Jaebeom’s eye.
Nodding, Jinyoung only tilts his head down further away from Jaebeom’s gaze, practically curled down around his knees now. “Yeah,” he replies thickly, before straightening up and evening out his tone into a detached sort of curious. “What kind of wedding are you thinking?”
“What kind…?” Jaebeom leans away in confusion, but doesn’t pull his hand back. “Uh, all I know is they want an outdoor wedding. Nayeon and her mother, I mean.”
“Outdoor? Jaebeom!” Jinyoung frowns at Jaebeom like he’s a misbehaving child. “April really is the worst month, think of the rain!”
“Isn’t rain on a wedding day supposed to be good luck?” Jaebeom replies, exasperated.
“People just say that to make the bride and groom feel better that their wedding is ruined!” Jinyoung bites back.
Jaebeom shakes his head, feeling annoyance creep up again. Are they really arguing over this? Why is Jinyoung doing this? “Is this really all you have to say right now Jinyoung?”
With a funny little frown, Jinyoung winces, before surging forward and hugging Jaebeom suddenly, hooking his chin over his shoulder and knocking their hands apart. For a moment, Jinyoung doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Jaebeom, hands linked like a knot at the top of Jaebeom’s spine. The bags of mangos slip to the floor as Jinyoung angles himself closer.
“Sorry,” Jinyoung says unsteadily, not pulling away. “Of course I’ll be your best man, Hyung, I’m honoured. I didn’t mean to nit-pick. Congratulations, I’m… Are you happy?”
“Yeah,” Jaebeom answers automatically, bringing his arms up around Jinyoung’s waist, pulling him closer. He doesn’t think about the wedding coming up, or Jinyoung’s reaction. Just about how he feels right now. Grounded, secure. “Yeah, I’m happy.”
Jinyoung tilts his head into Jaebeom’s neck, squeezing him again, gently this time. “Then I’m happy.”