Chapter Text
“Fuck!”
The stereo glitches out a jumbled mess of words, the speakers pounding with what should be the bassline of Peace Sells but instead sounding like a high-pitched squeal. Jay would equate it to the same feeling of hearing nails against a chalkboard—the type of sound that makes your ears bleed.
He growls and bangs a fist against his car stereo once more, eyes flickering between the device and the road, his other hand steady on the wheel. He fiddles with the buttons once more, the song ending and transitioning into a familiar beat he recognises. Just great. One of his favourite songs, and he can’t even listen to it properly because of his piece of shit on wheels.
Now don’t get Jay wrong. He loves this car, adores it even. A gorgeous 1963 Ford Falcon Futura that he got as a present from his parents on his sweet sixteenth birthday. Admittedly, the car wasn’t in the best of shape when he got it. The rear was dented, the paint was chipping, and the inner furnishing was practically gone from how badly it had peeled.
None of that mattered to him, though; he was adamant about getting his beauty back into good shape.
The next summer break came around, and he had gotten a part-time job at the local diner, trying his hand out in the kitchen as head chef. Apparently the old head chef had retired, and they needed someone badly. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have any professional experience—only having ever cooked in his own kitchen until that point—but he knew how to use a grill, and that was it; he had gotten the job.
Jay still works there five years later because, unfortunately, he is still just as broke as he was in high school, if not more so now. You’re being dramatic, his mother would say. After all, it was her who taught him the art of saving up, and it’s thanks to her that his savings account isn’t pathetic to look at.
His car, besides all its many—and he means many—flaws, is one of his most prized possessions. After all, that’s five years worth of hard work, money, and memories he’s built with the vehicle. The only issue is that over time his car, as any other car does, starts to experience some technical difficulties. One month his engine fails, and the next the battery dies. It’s a repeated cycle that is actually starting to really piss him off because he can’t afford to fix the stereo anytime soon.
This now means he has no other choice but to drive to and from places in his car in complete radio silence. Jay can only shudder in disgust at the mere thought.
Pulling up to the curb, he slams the door behind him, reaching into the trunk to lug out his guitar case. If Jay has two loves in his life, with one being his car, then the other one has to be his guitar.
Born to hold a guitar in one hand and a pick in the other is what his mother likes to say about him. Growing up, he always had a strong affinity for music—rock in particular. It wasn’t necessarily the words that spoke to him, but more so the vibe that rock music gave off. It was the intensity each song had, the type of music that he couldn’t help but bang his head to and drum his fingers along his thighs.
He was fourteen when he got his hands on a guitar that he could call his own, passed down from his father to him. It was a simple acoustic guitar, nothing too fancy, but it quickly became a big part of his identity. Wherever Jay went, so did the guitar.
Now his go-to guitar is a Fender Stratocaster (modelled after Eric Clapton), silky black and white colours that blend together in (almost) 40 inches of pure ecstasy. Besides the fact that Clapton is inarguably one of the best guitarists the world has ever seen, the guitar simply gets the job done—and that’s enough for Jay.
It was the first thing he bought for himself (that wasn’t a car part) after saving up, living off ramen noodles and leftovers for months. The guitar screams him, being everything he embodies as not only a musician but a person.
The garage door is wide open. The unsynchronised smashing of cymbals and the plucking of bass strings get louder as he enters, setting his case down onto the ground beside his amp.
“You’re late,” the drummer complains, twirling his drumsticks with his fingers.
“Enough.” The bassist next to him swats at his shoulder before turning towards Jay, an eyebrow crooked in questioning. “He’s right, though. Where were you?”
“Sorry, I got caught up at work. Had to train another new chef. Again,” he groans, trying to untangle the mess that he calls his guitar cords out of a big knot. Heeseung—the bassist—leans down to help, with both of their deft fingers quickly untangling the wires. Sunghoon—the drummer—looks at them from where he’s still perched on his little stool.
One of the other chefs recently quit, and it meant that they (Jay, mainly) had to quickly find a replacement. It was a shame, really, because he had grown to like Jaemin as a coworker, regardless of how peculiar the other man was. Eventually his replacement was found in a cat-eyed boy. Jungwon claims he’s nineteen and very much an adult—but then again, he somehow convinced their manager that he was fit to be a chef even though he can’t hold a knife properly, but hey, what does Jay know?
Jay stands up, fiddling with the knobs on his guitar. “My car stereo is fucked too. Kept glitching out the whole way here. I swear it was fine yesterday.”
“That thing is unpredictable. Fine one day and broken the next.”
“Hey! She is not a thing,” he huffs, glaring at Sunghoon, who quickly puts his arms up in surrender. “It’s just not a good day for her. She’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”
He slings his strap over his body, tuning his guitar for their first song for practice. It’s a new piece they (Heeseung, mainly) have been working on, and it fits perfectly in their discography. The lyrics aren’t completely solid, but a few tweaks here and there, and then maybe some minor adjustments on the arrangement, and the song will be perfectly good to perform.
That reminds him.
“Hey, where’s Dohoon?”
Heeseung looks up at him with wide, surprised eyes, hands hovering over his bass strings awkwardly. “Oh, we didn’t tell you? He quit.”
“You have got to be fucking with me right now.”
They were, in fact, not fucking with him.
His car stereo has been broken for a few days at this point. He had tried to fix it himself, but the damn thing—the thing in question being the stereo and NOT his car—didn’t want to cooperate (and honestly he was too scared that he would break it if he really tried).
With no other options left, Jay was being forced to listen to music from the speakers of his phone. The little tiny device that he got half-off on sale over a year ago, the screen with a massive crack in the top right corner, would lag if he was on it for more than five minutes at a time. Yeah, that phone.
He could get a new phone; don’t get him wrong. Jay is anything but broke (no matter how many times he jokes otherwise), and he has plenty of savings that splurging on the newest iPhone would barely make a dent in his bank account (he would hope so with how much he slaves away working every single week). It’s the fact that his current phone has been with him since high school, and hey, sue him for being a little nostalgic.
It wasn’t all that bad, though. Thank God for Sunghoon’s parents and the Spotify family plan they let him leech off of.
It’s a Tuesday, so work is uneventful. There haven’t been any big orders for almost twenty minutes, so he’s standing out the back, mindlessly scrolling through his phone while he gets some fresh air. He replies back to a few texts from his parents, assuring them that no, he didn’t need their money to fix his radio and that it was his problem.
The kid—Jungwon—was inside the kitchen by himself. He had enough training to do easier tasks himself now; you didn’t really need to be a genius to know how to refill condiment containers. Besides, he had promised Jay he would immediately come and get him if he needed help, and he trusted Jungwon would follow through on his words.
He shoves his phone back into his pocket when it starts to lag, freezing on a TikTok of two cats play-fighting. It’s nearing late afternoon, with the sun not shining as brightly as it had in the morning, but the heat is still making him sweat along the edges of his hairline. Just as he’s about to head back inside, the door to his left swings open and Jungwon pokes his head out, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Busy?” Jay asks, ushering the two of them back through the door. He tightens up the strings of his apron and washes his hands in a nearby sink.
Jungwon shakes his head and glances towards the kitchen door that leads into the main area of the diner. “No, someone is here to see you. I think he said his name was Ni-ki?”
Sitting at the counter, with his long legs awkwardly bent off the stool, is the Ni-ki in question. When Riki—who is now in this weird teenage phase of wanting to be called Ni-ki—first moved to South Korea at the age of nine, it was Jay and his parents who made the trek across the street and welcomed them to the neighbourhood with baked treats and open arms. Ever since then, he’s treated the other boy as a little brother, the two practically inseparable.
That didn’t mean that Ni-ki wasn’t a pain in the ass, though.
“What do you want?” Jay asks with narrowed eyes.
Ni-ki looks up from his milkshake with a grin, and then proceeds to stand up and immediately tower over him. “Jay-hyung!”
He watched this kid grow up. Ni-ki practically used to follow him around like a lost puppy, wanting to be around his cool hyung and his even cooler hyung friends. They practically ate the same things growing up, and Ni-ki used to never drink his cup of warm milk before bed—so why on god’s green earth was he now standing at 183 cm? It doesn’t help his (totally nonexistent) height complex that both Heeseung and Sunghoon are taller than him too. The only other person who seems to be around his level is Jungwon, but he’s just a kid, so who knows if he’ll suddenly have a growth spurt and tower over Jay too.
That’s besides the point here, though.
“I’m working, Riki. What is so important that you couldn’t wait till my shift finished, or, I don’t know, that couldn’t be covered over text?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyways, you know how you’ve been looking for another guitarist since that guy left.”
“Since Dohoon left. He has a name, y’know?”
“Ok, sure. That guy. Anyways, I have the perfect replacement for you.”
Jay looks at him with a raised eyebrow in question, curiosity unfortunately piqued.
Their band started out as a little hobby between the three of them—him, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. They all grew up together, with Jay and Heeseung having been friends since birth and both meeting Sunghoon in elementary school.
Everyone knew Jay adored his guitar, and his two friends wanted to share that same connection with him. Heeseung was naturally gifted at everything he touched, and Sunghoon was quick to pick up on things, so it didn’t take very long for them to become a makeshift band.
Three people made an awful band, though. Jay knew that. So, in his first year of university, he made a bunch of flyers and stuck them up everywhere, letting other students know they had an opening for their band. He didn’t really have much hope at the time, what with their band having never done any real ‘band activities.’ They had spent most of the time playing as just the three of them; the only existences in the world having heard their music were their parents, the neighbours, and the walls of Heeseung’s garage.
They had a few applicants for the band, but none of them ended up fitting in the group. That was until they met Dohoon, who was actually the little brother of one of the applicants. For someone his age, he played the guitar extremely well, and he had great stage presence. It helped that he was a friendly kid, too. The only issue is that he lived in the next town over, and he was still in high school.
Somehow they made it work.
Well, that was until Dohoon left the band. Turns out he quit because he’s moving to study abroad for university. Not to mention, apparently he left almost a month ago, and nobody decided to tell him. What the fuck. Heeseung and Sunghoon are genuinely the worst bandmates in the entire world (said with as much love that Jay can afford to give them).
“You were so busy with work, dude. Also, you never answer your texts anyway! Was I supposed to telepathically break the news to you? You think too highly of me, Jongseong,” is what Sunghoon had said when he confronted them about Dohoon's departure. Heeseung had just silently stood at the side and focused on tuning his bass, like it was the most important thing in the world at that moment.
Ok, so Ni-ki knows a guy. That’s great.
“Trust me, hyung. You’ll love him.” Ni-ki says, sounding fully confident in his personal recruitment abilities.
Jay is a little scared, to be honest.
That’s how he meets Jake.
Ni-ki never elaborates on how or where he met Jake, just that he was the perfect fit for the group. In fact, he never even mentions a name, just that this guy is the missing puzzle piece for the band. You’ll see what I mean.
It’s Sunday now. Jay is leaning against Heeseung’s dingy couch with his guitar, strumming the strings absentmindedly. Heeseung and Sunghoon went out to pick up some lunch. He thinks they’re getting burgers, but he wasn’t really listening before they left, too focused on trying to block out the loud noises in his head.
Ni-ki is supposed to be introducing their potential bandmate today, and to say he’s nervous is an understatement. Jay is shy, and if he can help it, he likes to keep to himself. Growing up, he only ever hung around the same three people because he couldn’t be bothered to socialise with every person he ever met.
His phone reads 1:19 PM, the time flickering underneath the crack on his screen. A car pulls up to the curb outside, and he looks up in hopes that it’s just his two friends with their lunch, but it’s not the dark blue sedan he knows Heeseung owns. No, it’s an off-white pickup truck. More specifically, it’s Ni-ki’s truck.
He stands up straight, grip tight around the neck of his guitar, palms suddenly starting to sweat. Of course he has to meet the new guy by himself. Just perfect.
Turning around, Jay tries to quickly occupy himself with something, picking up his amp cord in an act of looking busy. The sounds of footsteps get louder, and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Ni-ki walk into his garage.
“Jay-hyung!” His boisterous voice echoes around the walls, and he pulls Jay into a side hug. “Where are Heeseung and Sunghoon?”
“They’re out getting lunch. You know they’re going to get mad when they hear you talking about them without honorifics, right?”
Ni-ki waves him off, a smirk on his face. “It’s just like you said; they’re out. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“Anyways,” He pauses and takes a step back, gesturing to the person behind him. “This is Jake. Jake, this is Jay.”
Jay looks at the person behind Ni-ki and—
Ok, so he’s no longer the shortest in the band. Thank God.
Jake is short, possibly shorter than Jungwon, and he’s small too. Narrow shoulders, a slim face, even his wrists look dainty. He’s grinning—at Jay; and his smile is so big, teeth so perfect, that Jay has to quickly look away.
This guy—Jake—was too good-looking.
“Hi!” Oh, Jake is speaking now. Even his voice is lovely. Is that an accent? “It’s so great to finally meet you. Ni-ki—san has told me so much about you.”
He glances at Ni-ki from the corner of his eye, mouth tight. Ni-ki—san? Really? The boy in question shrugs and hides his chuckles behind his hand, pretending to be interested in Sunghoon’s drum set.
Jay politely shakes Jake’s hand with an awkward smile. “It’s good to meet you too. All good things, I hope. Riki here can be a nuisance, so I hope he hasn’t caused you too much trouble.”
The youngest grumbles a Hey! from behind him, but he chooses to ignore it. Instead, he helps Jake settle in, plugging his guitar into a spare amp. It’s a beautiful Gretsch branded in the colour Burnt Orchid, not the most costly but still sounds wonderful. That is, if the person playing knows what they’re doing.
He’s not someone to judge people based on appearances, but Jake doesn’t look like your typical rockstar. If anything, he looks like he’d be a rockstar’s groupie with that pretty face of his.
Oh, right.
“The other two will be back in a bit. They’ll want to talk to you, get to know you personally. We’re just going to have to see what you can do. Did you prepare any songs?”
“Actually, Ni-ki sent me some of your originals, and I practiced a few. They’re really good. Decelis is such a cool band name, too. First time I’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, ok. Sounds great,” Jay nods his head, eyes suspiciously flickering from Jake to Ni-ki. It seems like he has extensively planned for Jake’s audition to go well.
While Jake tunes his guitar with a pout—those massive, full lips of his on display, which Jay totally wasn’t staring at, by the way—he heads towards Ni-ki, the latter messing around with a pair of drumsticks, headbanging to an imaginary beat.
“Riki,” he hisses quietly, swatting him on the back of his head. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What does it look like, hyung? I’m Ringo Starr.”
Ringo Starr? Now that was just offensive.
“No, you idiot. I’m talking about Jake! You played him our songs?”
“Duh. Isn’t it better if he auditions with your songs?” Ni-ki says, not even bothering to look up at him, still messing around with the drums. He steps on the bass drum pedal a few times, awkwardly clashing the cymbals.
Well… He’s right.
Jay sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. This kid. “Yes, but we don’t even know him! What’s the point of him knowing how to play the songs if he’s not a good fit for the team?
He glances towards Jake, who has now moved to the couch, and watches as he looks around, inspecting the garage while he clicks the heels of his shoes together. Jake can’t stop licking and biting his bottom lip, hands picking at stray fabric from his jeans.
Jay feels slightly guilty for being so awkward, unable to make decent conversation with the other man. Now they both have to suffer.
“Also,” he starts, turning back to face Ni-ki, “You better get off that before Sunghoon comes back.”
“Fine, but only because I have somewhere to be,” Ni-ki groans dramatically and slides off the stool, drumsticks clattering on top of the floor tom. He walks towards Jake, who perks his head up and mutters something to him with his hands waving around.
“Wait, but you drove me here. How am I supposed to get home?” Jake asks. He looks up, still sitting down, and he’s completely dwarfed next to Ni-ki who stands at full height.
“Jay can drive you home. Right, hyung?” Ni-ki smirks, looking over his shoulder at Jay.
Jay’s eyes widen in shock at suddenly being offered up, and he can see Ni-ki trying to subtly wink at him out of Jake’s view. Jake looks at him with big, sparkly eyes, and Jay finds it hard to say no.
He coughs and rubs the nape of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Uh, sure, whatever. I can do that.”
Ni-ki soon leaves, and then it’s just the two of them. The silence in the room is so palpable that it feels suffocating. Where the hell were Heeseung and Sunghoon?
“So,” Jay mumbles, trying to make conversation. He shuffles closer to sit on the other end of the couch, glancing over at Jake.
Jake looks startled at the sound of his voice, hands tucking some stray hairs behind his ears. He’s so pretty like this, Jay can’t help but stare a little. “How’d you meet Riki?” He blurts out.
A smile immediately blooms on Jake’s face. “I met him through our mutual friend, Sunoo. I recently just transferred here from Australia, so Ni-ki has been helping me get adjusted.”
That explains the accent he’s been hearing.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said he mentions you a lot,” he continues, and Jay looks at him in curiosity. “Ni-ki talks about you all the time. He says you’re like the older brother he never had. It’s cute.”
He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head, a grin forming on his face. “I’ve known him since we were kids, and we grew up together. So yeah, I guess he is like my little brother. Even though he’s a pain in my ass.”
The sound of a car pulling up makes him look away from Jake, and this time it happens to be a dark blue sedan. Sunghoon stumbles out with a massive bag of food, Heeseung following him with two trays of drinks. No wonder they took so long; they were buying out the entire store.
“Honey, I’m home!” Sunghoon calls. His glasses slip down the line of his nose as he tries to avoid tripping on wires. He dumps the bag onto the rickety coffee table and turns to Jake, eyes glancing over him up and down. “Whoa, who’s the babe?”
“Babe?” Heeseung asks, attention immediately caught, and he gently—thank god, because a liquid spill around their amp cords would be the last thing they needed—places the drinks down. He looks down at the ‘babe’ in question and nods his head in approval. “Nice one, dude.”
Jake looks between the three of them in confusion, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed together, his lips falling into a pout.
“What the fuck, guys? This is Jake. He’s here to audition, y’know, for the band,” Jay splutters and quickly stands up.
Sunghoon looks at Jay in silence, then turns to glance at Jake for a few seconds before gazing back up at Jay with a cheeky grin. “So, he’s fair game then?”
Jay is going to kill his bandmates one of these days.
They have Jake run through the demos he’s practiced, filling the space that belonged to their ex-guitarist. It all sounds the same, but it also sounds different, and Jake is good. He obviously has experience, and he can keep up with Sunghoon’s intense tempo.
Every guitarist has their own flavour, per se, and Jake’s is radiating with happiness. In the same way a vocalist can sing like their heart is being ripped from their chest, Jake plays like he’s walking on air, his shoulders free of any earthly burdens.
It’s a drastic contrast to Jay’s style—long, drawn-out notes that vibrate with intensity and a sound that mirrors what you would find from death metal. They're the complete opposite of each other, but they don’t say that opposites attract for nothing. Right?
“He’s perfect,” Heeseung mumbles under his breath, and Jay can only nod in agreement.
“You’re really good,” Sunghoon says, just loud enough for Jake to hear.
Jake bows low, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “Thank you. It’s easy because your songs are good.”
Heeseung smirks, looking up at Jake with lidded eyes. “Oh? It seems like your mouth is just as good as your hands.”
This only makes Jake blush deeper, and suddenly Jay feels annoyed. “How long have you been playing?” He asks.
Jake adjusts his guitar strap, fiddling with his pick. “Not long. Since high school, I guess.”
“You guess?” Jay questions, looking over at him.
He watches as Jake squirms on the spot, fists gripping onto his guitar tighter. Heeseung glances over at him, eyes narrowed. “Cut it out, Jay.”
“What?”
Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Don’t what me. Play me the piece you’ve been working on.”
Jake moves to the couch, sitting at the other end besides Sunghoon. He glances over at Jay, but immediately looks away when their eyes meet. Jay can’t gauge his thoughts from his face, so he decides to give up and ponder it another time.
He’s been working on a song, and so far he only has the guitar chords down, but he has a few ideas in mind. Jay stands up and grabs his guitar and then takes a deep breath as he starts playing.
His fingers fly across the fretboard, punching out a series of chords. The sound he’s aiming for is fierce, like a warrior's cry at the peak of war. He’s basically playing a guitar solo, but he can already imagine the drum beats and the bass line following along in his head.
The song isn’t perfect. It’s incredibly flawed; Jay can tell even while he plays it, but that’s precisely why he’s playing it for the band. Sunghoon will help fill the empty spaces, Heeseung will work with him on the lyrics, and Jake—well, they’ll figure that out later.
He looks up as he strums out the last note, an eyebrow quirked up. “So?”
“Show off,” Sunghoon says snarkily, but he’s got a massive grin on his face. He wraps an arm around Jay’s shoulder and pushes their sides together. “You’re a fucking genius, y’know that?”
Jake nods in agreement, “That was amazing. You’re amazing.” He’s looking at Jay with wide eyes filled with something that Jay can’t decipher. His gaze is intense, though, and it’s so electrifying that Jay has to look away when goosebumps start to form across his arms.
His heart is pumping hard against his ribcage, but he can’t tell if it’s because of the song or Jake’s stare.
Today 9:14 am
Sunghoon added 010-1515-7458 to the conversation.
Sunghoon
jakey jakey
welcome to the gc
Heeseung
yo
whats up jaeyun
010-1515-7458
hiiii
who is who
Heeseung
im heeseung
Sunghoon
yknow who i am
where’s jongseong @ ?
Jay
I’m at work
Stop blowing up my phone
Sunghoon
mute the gc
anyways
hang out at heeseung’s tonight ?
Jay
What time
Heeseung
im not home until 4
so anytime after that
010-1515-7458
should i bring smth with me?
Sunghoon
just your pretty face
010-1515-7458
lolol
ok :)
Jay
ill bring beer
Vb?
Heeseung
yes sirrrr
Sunghoon
jay im going to suck you off
Jay
Bye
He’s in the kitchen with a knife in hand while Jungwon chats with him a few steps away, somehow able to multitask while he has slabs of meat on the grill.
The ticket machine whirls to life for the hundredth time that hour. Probably another order for the house burger.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” One of the other chefs—Gyuvin—groans, his eyes scanning over the ticket. “Another burger? I swear that after this I’m never touching another burger for the rest of my life.”
“You wanna bet on that?” Jay snorts, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.
“...Yeah, no thanks.”
Jungwon hands him a tray with two freshly cooked, medium-rare Porterhouses, burger patties already replacing them on the grill. He rings the bell as soon as both steaks are plated up, and a few seconds later Minji walks in to collect them before rushing back out, throwing a "Thanks, chef" over her shoulder.
“Cheffy,” Another voice calls for him. It’s Hyein with her head peeking through the crack of the open kitchen door, an apologetic smile on her face. “One of my tables has a few alteration requests.”
Jay immediately retorts with, “No.” He has no patience to entertain customers and their (frankly, wacky) requests today.
Hyein cracks out big, puppy dog eyes and dramatically flops against one of the counters, like her life is being sucked straight out from her body. “C’mon, Cheffy! You haven’t even heard me out yet.”
“Fine,” he relents, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed. Hyein perks up, grabbing her notepad from her apron pocket. “What do they want?”
“Ok, so, you know how the steak comes with a side salad? They’re wondering if they could have boiled vegetables instead.”
From somewhere behind him is the sound of Jungwon’s cackles, and even Jay can't help the smile that forms on his face in amusement. “Boiled vegetables? You can’t be serious.”
The look on her face tells him that the request is dead serious, though, and he goes back to the cutting board with a roll of his eyes. Hyein scuffs her shoes against the floor with a grimace, her notepad already stuffed back into the pocket of her apron. “So, is that a no?”
“What do you think?”
Hyein nods and sends him one last awkward smile before she heads out, the kitchen door swinging closed after her. Jay sets his knife down onto the cutting board and runs a hand through his hair, looking at his other two chefs in disbelief. “Boiled vegetables?”
“That’s something you order from a place where the food is worth more than our paycheck,” Gyuvin says, tossing some fries into a bowl and salting them, but then he suddenly stops, and Jay can physically see the cogs in his brain turning. “Wait, do diners with Michelin stars even exist? Would we be the first?”
Jungwon side-eyes him with one hand on his hip, waving a tong in the air with his other. “We sell fifteen-dollar burgers here. In what world would we qualify for a Michelin star?”
“Hey!” Jay exclaims, head whipping around from where he’s at the sink, his own hands covered in soap bubbles. “Our burgers are Michelin star worthy, thank you very much.”
At that exact moment, the kitchen door abruptly smacks open, and all three chefs jerk back in shock. It’s one of their new hires, Ricky—not to be confused with his Riki—who skids into the kitchen with wide eyes.
“How many times have I told you guys not to run—”
“Chef!” Ricky squeaks, quickly interrupting Jay’s mini rant. “Minji told me to tell you that the ‘devil’s are in the house’... Whatever that means.”
Jay peeks out the open kitchen door with furrowed eyebrows, mouth agape. “Seriously? I told those two they were banned from this place. Forever.”
“Who? Your boyfriend's?" Jungwon asks, curiously peeking over his shoulder to get a good look, and Jay flicks him on the forehead for being nosy.
“Just a pair of idiots that won’t leave me alone.”
He turns back to Ricky and pats him on the shoulder before spinning him around and shoving him back out the kitchen door. “Tell thing one and thing two they’re going to have to wait until close.”
A few hours later and the kitchen has been completely scrubbed down. All the machines are fully deep cleaned, and Jungwon and Gyuvin have already clocked out. He chats with Minji about service, mostly to discuss how many covers they had and if any problems occurred.
He walks to one of the tables and knocks on it twice, gaining the attention of the people sitting there. “What part of ‘you’re banned’ do you not understand?”
“The part where we’re banned,” Sunghoon says slyly, fingers drumming on the table.
Heeseung snorts and leans back into his chair, looking up at him with a shrug. “Also the part where you don’t make the rules but for some reason think you do.”
“It’s late, and we don’t have band practice tonight, so why are you here?” Jay groans and runs a hand down his face, exhaustion clear in his voice.
“What kind of friends would we be if we left you alone on a night like this?” Sunghoon stands up and wraps an arm around his shoulder, steering him to the front door of the diner while Heeseung lazily follows from behind with Jay’s bag on his arm.
“It’s Wednesday…” Jay glances between his two friends in puzzlement. What the hell were they on about?
“Exactly,” Sunghoon nods, like somehow that’s the point he’s making.
No, but seriously, what?
He’s shoved into the backseat of Heeseung’s car while Sunghoon calls shotgun, already buckling himself into the passenger seat. They’re pulling out of the parking lot when he leans his head out the open window, eyes wide in panic. “Wait, my car! I can’t just leave it here.”
“Don’t worry, Jay-ah,” Heeseung looks at him through the rearview mirror with a smile. “Nobody wants to steal that piece of junk anyways.”
Now, if Jay were just a little bit crazier and had a death wish, he would’ve grabbed the steering wheel and swerved them all into incoming traffic—but fortunately for them, he isn’t going to.
Not tonight, at least.
They pull up to one of the town’s most popular bars, which is somehow seeing good service even on a Wednesday night. Sunghoon goes straight to the bar to get them some shots while Heeseung leads him to a random table. He can’t help but glance around and take in the atmosphere, noticing that nobody is particularly dressed up, so he feels less self-conscious about his outfit. You look fine, is what Sunghoon had said when he complained about going out in his work attire.
Jay turns to Heeseung once they’re sat down, “What’s the special occasion?”
“Who says there is one?” Sunghoon appears from his right, setting four shot glasses down in front of them. Wait, four?
“It’s to officially celebrate Jake joining our band,” Heeseung explains, immediately downing his own shot, to which Sunghoon grumbles about under his breath.
Adding Jake to the band wasn’t a hard decision for any of them. He fit perfectly within the dynamic of their group, and he was phenomenal on the guitar (“You’re way better than me, Jay-ah!” Jake had gushed). Not to mention the sooner they found a new member, the better. They were trying to take the band further this year, after all. Nothing against three-membered bands, but they would be perfect with four. They are perfect with four.
Jake had gotten close with Sunghoon, in particular, and maybe Jay would have gotten jealous of this newfound friendship if Sunghoon hadn’t declared Jake his ‘platonic soulmate’—which is weird because aren’t he and Heeseung his platonic soulmates? Scrap that thought—Jay had zero reason to be jealous. And why would he? Jake is just another member of their band. No biggie. Nothing special.
Jay eyes his shot and chugs his down too (much to Sunghoon’s dismay, who gawks at both of them in disbelief before storming off to buy two more shots).
Ok. So, maybe he has some… feelings for Jake. He doesn’t know how to describe them, and frankly, he’d rather not have to. It’s just that every time he sees Jake, he feels physically sick, like he’s moments away from sinking down into a pile of his own goop…
Don’t imagine that.
“Please, I’m begging you guys to leave these shots alone. We’re still waiting for Jake,” Sunghoon grunts, putting down the two new shots and out of reach.
“Wait,” Jay looks up from the shots, his heart rate spiking. “Jake is coming?”
“Duh. Why would we celebrate someone joining the band and not invite him?” Heeseung says, looking at Jay like he’s stupid. Which he isn’t, by the way.
The wait doesn’t last long, with Jake walking through the entrance a few minutes later. He looks around curiously, blonde hair falling over his eyes until he spots their table, where Sunghoon is eagerly waving him over.
“Hi, guys. Sorry I’m late,” Jake pouts, sitting down and getting pulled into a side hug by Sunghoon.
Heeseung waves him off with a grin, cheeks mushed up, and then he grabs a shot glass. “It’s all good, Jaeyunie. But you can make it up to us by taking a shot.”
Jake takes the shot, glancing over the rim at the three of them before gulping it down, eyes squeezing shut at the flavour, and Sunghoon cheers, throwing his back as well. They talk for a bit, getting into the mood for the night, and then things get messy.
Round after round of shots keeps arriving at their table, and it’s not long before Heeseung is wasted (being the lightweight that he is), which spurs Sunghoon to get drunk as well. Jake falls prey to his charms and is quickly downing drink after drink too, and then he’s using his puppy eyes on Jay—and Jay is nothing if not a weak man.
He’s laughing at something Sunghoon is saying, sipping at his Jack and Coke. He’s not as blacked out as Heeseung or as drunk as Sunghoon, but he’s had enough alcohol to get him just a little more than tipsy.
Jake is apparently the same, because he leans over into Jay’s space with a dopey smile, constant giggles leaving his mouth. “Hi.”
“Hi, Jakey.” Jay can’t help but smile back, the alcohol dimming his nerves.
“Jakey?”
“Uh,” Jay pauses, taking a large gulp of his drink. “I heard Sunghoon call you that… It’s cool if you don’t want me to use it, though.”
Jake shakes his head, hair flopping around, and Jay almost has the urge to reach out and touch it, to feel how soft it is. Almost being the keyword, because he doesn’t, but he does watch as Jake scoots his chair closer until he’s no longer on his side of the table and their thighs are pressed together. “That’s not it. I was just surprised, is all. I didn’t think you would use a nickname.”
Jay looks at him with a raised eyebrow.
Jake visibly squirms in his seat, eyes darting between him and the other two at the table (who are in their own world), before he fully faces Jay with red cheeks.
“It’s just—I don’t know. I thought you hated me, to be honest,” he mumbles.
“What?” Jay replies, stunned.
“We never really talk, y’know, and when we do, it feels like you’re forcing yourself. You also never look at me. It’s like you’re—” Jake pauses in thought. “Ignoring? Avoiding me? Something like that… I just assumed it’s because you didn’t want me in the band.”
He looks at Jake in silence, trying to process his words, and then sits up straight, eyes wide. This was not on his list of things he expected to hear tonight. He thinks back to all his interactions with Jake, and fuck—Jake is right; he did act like that. It was never intentional, though. Of course not. Jay just happens to be the type of guy that can’t act normal around pretty boys; sue him.
Jay flounders around for a minute, mouth open with no words coming out, before groaning and collapsing back into his chair.
“I’m so sorry, Jake. That was never my intention. I’m just…” He pauses and then shakes his head, looking down at the liquid in his glass. “Never mind. Anyway, I’m sorry. But trust me, regardless of what I’ve made you think, I do want you in the band.”
“Oh. Well, I forgive you. I’m just glad you don’t hate me... I think you’re pretty cool, to be honest." Jake grins at him, knocking their shoulders together, and Jay feels a chill go down his spine.
He quickly chugs down the rest of his drink, cheeks flushed a simmering pink, and Jake soon follows by finishing his own. Maybe Jake won’t think too much about just how quick Jay is turning red; perhaps he’ll even chalk it up to alcohol. He can only hope—because Jay might just positively die if Jake finds out that he blushes so easily from a simple, harmless compliment.
They sit in silence afterwards, with Jake scrolling on his phone and Jay resting his chin on the palm of his hand, observing the two from across the table. Heeseung is giggling with a small grin, nodding his head as he listens to whatever Sunghoon is rambling about. Their bodies are pressed together, with Sunghoon leaning fully over into Heeseung's personal space.
Those two have some weird situationship (if you can even call it that) going on that neither wants to address. Jay has had to watch as they skirted around each other for months—scratch that, years. But they continue to play oblivious, and Jay is—frankly speaking, if he can be honest—sick and tired of having to play third wheel in whatever game they’ve got going on.
“Are Heeseung-hyung and Sunghoon dating?” Jake asks, hands brushing over Jay’s shoulders as he leans in, speaking softly into his ears.
“No,” Jay replies after a few short moments.
The fact of the matter is that there’s barely a label in existence that could name whatever Heeseung and Sunghoon have with each other. Sometimes they’re the two closest people in the world, and other times it’s almost like they barely know each other. They’re weird.
“They’re always like this.”
“Huh,” is all Jake says in response.
Not long after they decide to call it a night, Jay is standing up and paying off the bill. Heeseung stumbles into his arms when he pulls him up, and Jay practically has to drag him out the door with how much dead weight is on him. Jake follows closely behind with Sunghoon, who is able to walk on his own two feet but still dangles over Jake’s shoulders anyway.
It’s chilly outside, and Heeseung snuggles into his neck with a huff. Heeseung’s car is parked in the tiny car park besides the building, but with the amount of alcohol running through their bodies, it’ll have to stay there overnight. If Jay’s car has to sleep besides his cheap place of employment, then Heeseung’s car can rest outside a dingy bar. It’s only fair.
“Did you drive?” Jay asks, looking at Jake from over his shoulder.
Jake shakes his head with a smile, his back pressed into Sunghoon’s chest. They’re huddled together closely, sharing Sunghoon’s coat to deter the cold. “I took an Uber here. I assumed we would be drinking, so…”
“Smart. Whenever we go out, those two always end up wasted,” Jay laughs, peering down the road at approaching car headlights. He rubs his hands together, blowing warm air into his palms because all of a sudden he’s freezing.
He shoves Heeseung’s half-dead figure into the back of his Uber before turning back to Jake and Sunghoon, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Will you guys be ok? I can try and wait until your ride is here.”
He feels awkward standing across from them, watching how close they’ve managed to get in such a short amount of time. Meanwhile, Jay can’t even look Jake in the eye for more than a few minutes without starting to sweat.
“It’s all good, Jay. You still need to take care of Heeseung-hyung after all,” Jake is quick to assure him, with Sunghoon waving his hand and telling him to ‘shoo’.
Soon enough their bodies get smaller and smaller until they completely disappear into the distance. It’s only when he can no longer see the lights of the bar that Jay finally lets his head flop back against the headrest, groaning softly in anguish.
Jay needed to get a hold of himself and fast. With the way things were going, it wouldn’t be long before he did something stupid—like accidentally confessing to Jake, all because he lost control. Which would be weird because he doesn’t like Jake.
He needed to focus on what was important, the band being the biggest example. They couldn’t lose a member that they just recruited all because he got his feelings hurt. No, Jay wouldn’t let that happen.
Today 2:37 pm
Heeseung
rmb practice at my house 2nite
Sunghoon
yeah no thanks
we had practice yesterday and my arms are still sore
Heeseung
if you dont show up im going to kick your ass
Sunghoon
oh ?
because you’d be into that
Jay
im actually begging the both of you to stfu
Heeseung
that was all hoon
im innocent
hows work?
Jay
its work
im going to drive off a cliff
Sunghoon
In reply to Heeseung: INNOCENT?
In reply to Jay: someones a little bit dramatic today
not very chill guy of you
Jay
youre one to talk
also wtf does that mean
Heeseung
its a meme
only real chill guys would get it
who wants to play lol tho
Jake
In reply to Jay: dont kys jay
gta 6 isnt out yet
also can someone drive me today please
Sunghoon
ill drive you jakey
Jake
Fr?
Sunghoon
no
ㅋㅋㅋ
Jay
dont be weird sunghoon
its not a good look
In reply to Jake: ill drive you jake
Jake
thank youuuu jay !!!!
youre the best <3
Sunghoon
????
i always look good tho wtf
Heeseung
damn…
In reply to Heeseung: so no league ?
They’ve been putting a lot of work into the band lately, nitpicking and tweaking every little thing to make sure they perform perfectly. It’s always awkward with a new member initially, because it takes time (a lot of time) to get everyone into the same groove. Nobody was expecting Jake to nail their songs straight off the bat, after all.
Sure, individually each person is talented. Sunghoon is a beast on the drums who can ace even the most complicated beats, and Jake (which Jay only just recently found out) can shred the fuck out of his guitar. If Jay didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was the second coming of Eddie Van Halen.
Heeseung managed to snag them a time slot at the Cherry bar; to say that Jay was excited would be an understatement. It felt like forever since Decelis got to rock away on stage, with the band practically being on hiatus for most of the year. Cherry was known for its live rock music, and word on the street was that there were scouts who loved to camp those grounds for potential talent.
He was feeling pretty good.
Practice is about to start, and so Jay fiddles with his guitar, shifting from simple strumming to a scale run-up. His fingers are stiff, and he’s worried they’re going to cramp if he doesn’t force them to be moving constantly.
He can hear Sunghoon ask, “How was the ride?” and Jake answering with something about muffled speakers. Then a presence enters his space, and Jay doesn’t even have to look to know who it is.
“I’m nervous.”
He looks up with an eyebrow raised in question, “What?”
“I said I’m nervous,” Jake sighs, fingernails tapping on the skin of his guitar.
“What for? Is this about our gig on Saturday?”
“Yeah. I haven’t played live in ages.”
“You’ve played live before?” Jay asks, interest piqued.
Jake snorts and rolls his eyes jokingly. “Of course. The last bar I played at was in Cheonan, but like I said, it’s been a while. I’m worried I’ll mess up or something.”
“You’ll be fine, Jake. You’re going to kill it. I believe in you,” Jay says confidently, gently patting his shoulder.
He has full faith that Jake will pull their performance off. Jay has seen how he plays, after all, and he absolutely kills it on the guitar. Jake immediately lights up from his comment, a grin tugging at his lips. His hands are still tapping nervously against his guitar, but before Jay can even think of what to say next, Heeseung is at his mic signalling for Jake to get into position.
Sunghoon leads them into the song with his sticks—a strong clack, clack, clack—and the garage thrums to life. It’s almost instantaneous the way Jake relaxes, his fingers moving over the fretboard easily, and Jay can’t help but think about how elegant he looks. It’s hard not to look at Jake, especially when he plays so beautifully, it almost physically pains Jay to look away.
It gets to a point that Jay can barely hear the sound of instruments over the pounding of his heart, little tingles of electricity shooting through his veins.
The bangs of the drums are intense, so fierce that Jay momentarily (just for a split second) worries that Sunghoon might snap his sticks mid-song, which would make that his second pair just this month. If Jay was even just a smidge less competent at the guitar, he’d be playing catch-up with the pace Sunghoon has set. But that’s what makes Sunghoon an amazing drummer—his ability to control the rhythm so easily, and the fact that he makes or breaks the song.
Heeseung is a whole other conversation. Already an ace at everything he does, it wasn’t really a surprise that he would have immense prowess as a singer too. Beautiful voice aside, it’s Heeseung’s mannerism and charisma that made him shine, and he was a sight to see on stage when he was in that headspace. He was the perfect lead vocalist that their band needed, and it definitely helped that he could multitask on the bass.
Everyone knows that bassists are the backbones of their bands.
They’re finishing out their seventh song just as Heeseung calls for a break, and everyone collectively sighs in relief. Jay lets himself flop onto the couch, guitar propped up to the side. He hasn’t gone that hard on the guitar in a long time, and the energy of the band was on a whole other level from before, so it’s no surprise that he’s sweating from every pore of his body and his hands are clammy.
“Water?” Sunghoon asks, his body leaning against the door of the rusty, old fridge in the corner of the garage. Heeseung’s dad snagged it at a low price from a garage sale back in high school, but his mum didn’t want it anywhere near their newer, modern fridge. The garage ended up being its permanent home.
Jay used to be jealous that Heeseung basically had his own fridge to store food and drinks, and that he could access it whenever he wanted. Since the garage was never used for cars, it had long been their hangout place, and having a fridge only made Heeseung look ten times cooler than he actually was. Heeseung—as great as he is—is a loser.
Everyone knows this.
“Chuck me one,” Heeseung says, eyes focused on the papers littered across the small coffee table at his feet. He’s organising their set list, adjusting what songs they’ll play and in what order to best suit their performance. Their upcoming gig is supposed to go for 45 minutes, but sometimes they have to account for setups and takedowns, so they keep about seven tracks on the set list with one to spare if there’s time.
The set list is good, really good. It has a few of their originals (including the new song they’ve been working on) and a sweet cover of Silverchair’s Freak. You can never go wrong with a cover of a classic. They initially had debated between Freak and The Trooper by Iron Maiden but decided on the former because it was more ‘fun’, as Jake had put it. Apparently, Jake’s word was law because everyone unanimously agreed.
“Jay.”
“Hmm?” Jay hums in response, looking up at the ceiling in a daze.
Jake scoots closer, until their arms are pressed right against each other, and flops back onto the couch with his eyes looking up. Jay barely reacts when a shoe knocks against his, and he doesn’t say anything when it happens again, but the third time it happens, he decides to gently swing his foot to the side. They make it into a game of sorts, their own version of footsie, and from where he can see Sunghoon looking at him with curiosity, it probably looks as weird as it feels.
He squeezes at the bottle in his hands, the condensation dripping down his fingers and onto the couch. It’s so hot. A drop of sweat rolls down the corner of his jaw, and just as Jay is about to reach up and swipe it with the back of his hand, a tissue is being pressed onto his face.
“Don’t touch your face with your hands,” Jake shakes the tissue in his hand and then helps to wipe at his forehead. Jay can only sit there and stare up as Jake strokes his face, the material of the tissue soft against his skin. “You sweat a lot.”
“You don’t?” Jay asks instead.
The thought of delving into his sweat habits feels more like a third date topic than whatever they have going on. Are they friends? Does Jake even see him as anything more than a coworker? He honestly isn’t sure he even wants to find out.
“I do. Not a lot, but the normal amount… Whatever that is,” Jake laughs and then falls back onto the couch. He wriggles around for a bit, and then he’s laying his head on Jay’s shoulder with a sigh. Jay almost stiffens up the moment it happens—almost, because he doesn't, but his muscles awkwardly lock together anyway.
“It’s hot,” Jay croaks out.
“Yeah. It’s almost summer,” Jake says.
Jay groans. “I hate summer. Gets way too hot.”
“Hm, I don’t mind summer. I like getting hot,” Jake shrugs, and Jay physically has to stop his eyes from popping out of their sockets because what?
“Thanks for driving me, by the way. I swear I’m gonna get a car soon,” Jake turns his head over, eyes trained on the side of his face.
Jay looks at him from the corner of his eye and gulps. They’re so close now, with only inches apart between them. Jake is so pretty, with his sparkling eyes and his pink, plump lips. Jay wonders how he tastes—he guesses sweet because it fits Jake perfectly.
“It’s no problem, Jake. I’ll drive you whenever you want,” Jay smiles—it’s small, but it’s a smile nonetheless—and then glances back at the ceiling.
Just as Jay is settling down and finally getting comfortable with Jake, Heeseung claps his hands and picks his bass up. “C’mon, up. I want to finish before I sweat my balls off. Take a look at what I’ve got, Jay.”
Jay tries not to be disappointed when Jake sits up, but he does grumble when he has to move from his place on the couch. He’s hot and tired, and the garage is stuffy and smells oddly like musk. The sun is already starting to set, and it’s getting dark out. It definitely doesn't help that he desperately needs to clear his head.
He would love to do nothing more than go home and stand under freezing cold water while he tries not to think about the possibility of getting booed off-stage or the fact that he’s chubbing up in his pants all because of Jake.
“Jay?” Jake looks over at him with a raised eyebrow. Heeseung and Sunghoon are giving him their own strange look, and Jay quickly saunters over despite the ache between his legs.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get practice over and done with.”
The diner was dead, save for a few regulars scattered about. Jay hadn’t needed to touch a single piece of food in the last half an hour, and the last thing he did cook was a bowl of fries for himself.
He’s scribbling notes onto a pad, little etches of music notes and words littered across the page. Jay wasn’t unfamiliar with making music; it came with being in the band. He didn’t tend to write as much as Heeseung or Sunghoon did, but Jay loved to create chords and beats that he could shove into the middle of their songs.
“Hyung,” Jungwon calls.
“What’s up?” Jay looks over at him, giving him his full attention. He found that Jungwon tended to sulk if he didn’t concentrate on him when they were talking, and it made him look like a sad cat. Jay loves cats.
“What does all—” Jungwon swivels his index finger around the paper, “this mean?”
“It’s like parts of music. Melodies, chords, the lot. Whatever comes to my head,” Jay explains.
Jungwon nods, “So this is how you make your songs…”
“Why, you interested?” Jay teases, tapping his pen against the pad.
Jungwon rolls his eyes and takes a step back. “Hell no. It looks waaay too hard. You know I’m a business major, right?”
“You say that like you’re stupid,” Jay snorts.
“Who’s stupid?”
Jay stands up straight, pen falling from his grasp and rolling against the countertop. “What the fuck, Riki? How many times do I have to tell you not to come back here?”
“You know I have a bad memory, Jay-hyung. Maybe if you repeat it another hundred times, I’ll finally remember,” Ni-ki says with a smirk.
Just as Jay is about to lunge over and tackle Ni-ki out of his kitchen, a head pops up over his shoulder. He can’t see anything more than blonde hair waving around and what looks mysteriously like invisible puppy ears. Jay already knows exactly who it is.
“Jake?” He asks, and his question is soon answered when Jake’s head pops from the side. He waves at Jay excitedly, eyes glancing around the kitchen curiously. “Hi Jay! Nice kitchen you got here.”
“Uh, thanks,” he says, straightening out his apron. His heart starts to race, and he silently hopes the workday hasn’t messed up his hair. “So… What are you doing here?”
“Ni-ki told me you were working today, and I got curious. Thought I’d drop by and pay a visit. You’re cool with that, right?” Jake looks up at him with round, puppy-dog eyes—is he batting his eyelashes at him?—and Jay finds it impossible to say no to him (not that he was going to do that anyways).
“What? Yeah, of course. You can come whenever you want,” Jay says, trying to play it cool.
The simultaneous snort both Ni-ki and Jungwon let out after his answer has him glaring at the two of them instead. He thinks he hears Ni-ki cough out a “whipped” from under his breath, but he’ll deal with that brat later.
“Anyways, you guys really can’t be back here. Employees only, y’know.”
“You’re not even working, though,” Ni-ki says, pointing at his open pad still on the metal countertop.
Jay huffs and slams his pad shut, narrowing his eyes at him. “Now I’m working. Get out.”
“Fine,” Ni-ki groans, rolling his eyes childishly. “We’re going. Just a heads up, I’m inviting our friend to the show.”
Jake smiles at Jay, waving to him as he walks out. Jay waves back and tries not to look on longingly as he leaves.
As soon as they’re gone, Jungwon turns to Jay. “Hyung, you’ve got a show coming up?”
“Yeah. We’ve got a gig at this place called Cherry on the weekend. It’s out of town, though.”
“That’s sooo cool. Y’know, I just so happen to be free… Can I come with?” Jungwon asks, hands clasped together. He looks eerily similar to a cat begging for treats, with his beady feline eyes and little paws. Jay sighs in reluctance but ultimately says yes and has Jungwon clinging onto his arm with a cheshire-like grin across his face.
It’s at that moment that the ticket machine whirls to life with multiple different orders sent through, one of them being for a table of six.
Jay tries not to slam his head open on the kitchen bench.
His car is completely silent on the way home. Jake is sitting in the passenger seat with his head lolled to the side, and Jay can’t tell if he’s sleeping without having to crane his neck, but he decides to keep the music playing on low anyway.
They just finished another session of band practice, the last one before their gig, and their game was on a completely different level than before. He could tell everyone was getting psyched up from how close it was. It was going to be their first performance with this new lineup after all; everything had changed ever since Jake joined.
The drive to Jake’s house isn’t long; it’s actually closer than Jay’s house is, but it feels as if the journey takes years. His hands are clammy against the steering wheel, and he’s had to wipe it down on his pants several times now.
He can see Jake’s house just down the street, and he flicks on his turn signal as he pulls up towards the driveway.
“Jay-ah.”
Jay whips his head over in shock, heart racing from the sudden scare, and he accidentally puts his foot on the brakes. Jake sits up with a jolt, mouth agape as he stares back at Jay. Now it’s dead silent, quiet enough that Jay can hear muffled ringing in his ears.
“Are you ok?” Jake asks. It makes Jay feel bad because he should be the one making sure Jake’s fine.
“I’m fine. You just surprised me is all,” Jay groans, wiping his shaky hands over his pants.
“Sorry,” Jake whispers, still looking over at Jay.
“Don’t apologise, it’s cool. I should be the one apologising, though. We could’ve died.”
Jake quickly shakes his head and reaches over to grab one of Jay’s hands with both of his. “It would’ve been my fault because I startled you. I didn’t think you’d react like that.”
“I thought you were sleeping,” Jay says, watching as Jake strokes over his knuckles. Can he feel how clammy Jay’s hands feel? He hopes not; the thought has him wanting to rip his hand from Jake’s embrace.
“Nah, I was just thinking.”
“Can I ask what about? It’s cool if you don’t want to.”
“It’s fine,” Jake shrugs, glancing up at Jay from under his lashes. “I was thinking about you, to be honest.”
“Me?” Jay says in disbelief.
Jake hums, looking away shyly. He plays around with Jay’s hand, tracing the thick muscle and prominent veins. “You’re cool. Cooler than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
Jay sucks in a breath, cheeks starting to burn a rosy red. “I am?”
“Yeah. I like you, Jay.”
“You—” Jay stammers.
Jake doesn’t let him finish; instead, he continues. “I know you said you didn’t hate me, but it honestly felt like you did. Until today, that is. I get it now, y’know, why everyone loves you. It makes sense. You’re really cool, Jay.”
He stares at Jake in surprise, and the ringing in his ears is gone. Now all he can hear is the sound of Jake’s voice and his soft breaths. The only thing in his sight is Jake, as if the entire world has blurred around them.
Jay has received countless compliments over the years. From random members of his extended family to his classmates at school, he’s heard it all. But there’s something different about the way Jake says things; his words are filled with so much genuineness that you can’t help but believe him.
If he says Jay is cool, then it must be true.
“I think you’re really cool too, Jake. I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” Jay says. His voice comes out quiet and breathy, but it's still loud enough for Jake to hear.
“No more apologies, ok? I think we’ve said sorry to each other enough times to last a lifetime,” Jake laughs, and Jay can’t stop the smile that grows on his face.
There’s another bout of silence before Jake is sighing and gently letting go of his hand. “I should probably go.”
Jay nods silently. Jake climbs out of the car and grabs his case from the back, but he doesn’t immediately head for his house. Instead, he walks around to the driver's side, bending over to look at Jay through the rolled-down window, “Thanks.”
“I told you it’s fine. I’ll drive you home whenever,” Jay says, waving him off. It’s really not such a big deal to him, and it’s practically on the way to his house. Sorta. If he’s inconveniencing himself every time he drives Jake to and from practice since it means he has to take the long way home, then nobody besides him has to know.
“Well, that too, but that’s not what I mean,” Jake leans against his car, the moon peeking up from the clouds behind him. It casts a gentle halo over him, making him look like an angel on earth personified that Jay already thought he was.
“I actually wanted to thank you for letting me join Decelis.”
Jay quirks an eyebrow in surprise. “Huh? You really don’t have to thank me for that.”
“Sure,” Jake says, “But I want to. I appreciate it, y’know? Heeseung-hyung and Sunghoon obviously take your opinion seriously, so it means a lot to me that you’ve accepted me as well.”
“I’d be stupid not to accept you. You’re a perfect fit for the band. We need you.”
“What about you?” Jake asks.
Jay looks up at him in confusion. “What about me?”
“You said the band needs me, but do you need me?”
“What do you mean?” Jay asks desperately.
Jake sighs and steps back, his pretty lips pulled into a frown. Jay can’t decipher what he’s thinking—he’s never really been good at reading faces—but Jake obviously isn’t happy with his answer.
He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, so of course he doesn’t know how to fix it, and his brain decides to do what it does best. His mind goes completely blank. This only makes Jake look disappointed.
“Think about it,” Jake says, tapping the hood of Jay’s car twice, and then he’s gone, leaving Jay parked by his driveway with a thousand thoughts running through his head.