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Chan doesn’t know what first put the idea into his head; the alcohol or the monotony of his life. But somehow, the idea is in his head like an intrusive thought that won’t go away. In the corner of a loud bar with flashing lights, Chan finds himself sitting in a corner booth with two men he had just met earlier in the night. And it’s here that the idea fully roots into his head and won’t shake away.
Maybe it’s because of the way he’s pleasantly buzzed. Not too drunk to be making a fool of himself, but not sober enough to be thinking clearly. There’s a glass half-filled with alcohol held loosely in his right hand. And a lazy smile is spread across his lips as he studies the scene around him. Once he locks eyes with the two pairs of shining eyes before him, the idea has already taken control. And it’s then that he opens his mouth to utter the sentence that will seal his fate.
“Sure, let’s do it.”
Chan wakes up with a groan. His head pounding with an obvious hangover. He feels weird, more weighed down than usual, but he expects that it’s probably because of him being too drunk to take off his clothes from last night and change into pajamas. That idea is shattered though when he feels someone else move and hears a whimper and a groan. From two very different people.
It’s then that Chan starts to wonder what he did last night.
And then a phone rings.
And Chan knows that it cannot be his phone because he never has the sound on. A bit of a mistake on his part, but when he’s working in the studio he cannot deal with having the distractions of a noisy phone, and when he leaves he never remembers to turn the sound back on. So hearing a phone ring so clearly, in what he hopes is his bedroom, sends alarm bells ringing through his head.
“Can someone please answer their phone,” someone grumbles from the left of Chan.
Another person groans again before the ringing stops and Chan hears a slurred “hello.”
“Jisung!” Chan can hear faintly from the phone. “What did you do?”
“Felix?” The person, Jisung?, groans out. “What are you yelling?”
“Why am I yelling,” the person on the phone screeches out. “Maybe because there are thousands of tweets about you getting married to not one, but two complete strangers.”
And that, well that startles Chan into full awakeness. He’s already sitting up before he can stop himself, his eyes open and frantically looking around. He is right, he is in his own bedroom. But he’s also not alone. Two men he vaguely recognizes are curled up in his king-sized bed on either side of him.
The one on the phone looks at Chan with wide eyes while the other is burrowing deeper into Chan’s pillow. “I’m sorry Felix, I’m going to have to call you back,” Jisung says hurriedly.
Chan can hear the man from the phone sputter out protests, but he’s cut off once Jisung slams his finger onto the hangup button. And then it’s just Chan and Jisung staring at each other with wide eyes as they wonder what exactly happened last night.
“Why are you so loud?” The third man grumbles from where he still lays. “It was your guys’ stupid idea anyway.”
And with that statement, Chan throws himself back down onto his bed. It’s too early in the morning to try and deal with this.
Later, once the sun is at its highest peak, all three of the men decide to finally face the music and crawl out of Chan’s bed. They’re sitting around Chan’s breakfast bar eating the omelets that Chan had made for everyone and having a light conversation - which in reality is reintroducing themselves to each other.
Chan learns that the other man’s name is Changbin and he is 22-years-old. And that Jisung is the youngest at 21-years-old and last night was one of the first times that he had ever gone to a bar by himself. In turn, Chan tells them that he’s 24-years-old and that they can stay for as long as they like.
They don’t talk about the elephant in the room, or even dare to look at their phones. Chan had only glanced at his screen before turning it off. He didn’t want to deal with all the messages from his friends asking if he had checked Twitter. After Jisung’s phone call from this morning, he thinks he knows what he can expect from the app.
“Changbin, you seem like the only one with any idea of what happened last night. So do you mind sharing with the class?” Jisung says once everyone’s food is gone and the plates are in the sink.
Changbin scrunches his nose before sighing. “Well, we all met at the club/bar last night,” Changbin starts, “I don’t know how we all started talking together, but we did. And then you,” he points to Jisung, “had this crazy idea of pranking you fans by saying you were going to get married.”
That still doesn’t fully explain what happened, but Chan is able to find some of the missing puzzle pieces from his own memories.
“So we’re not actually married?” Jisung asks.
“Oh no, we took a few pictures and videos to prank the fans with, and I’m still not completely sure what you mean by fans, but then you also had the bright idea to make it official. Said it was the only way to truly trick them.”
“And you just went along with it,” Jisung screeches.
Changbin grumbles again before looking away. “I obviously was not in my right state of mind last night. So yes, we all went along with it. You said that you knew a person who was ordained and could get you the marriage license. And then you called them up and paid them a lot of money to get us married,” he finishes. “And considering you said that this was very serious, I’m sure they already put in the marriage license this morning.”
This causes Jisung to scramble for his phone. He swipes through the notifications on his lock screen before letting out a screech and throwing it lightly onto the counter. “You’re right. They just sent me the confirmation.”
Chan knows he should be more worried about this, but honestly, all he can think about is if they changed their names. Is he about to have to go through a bunch of paperwork to keep all of his things in order?
It’s only then that it hits him that this is real and serious. Chan actually got married to two people he didn’t know. “Well, now I’m just mad that you went through all this and didn’t actually buy us rings,” is what Chan ends up saying though.
He thinks it’s worth it when he can hear Changbin laughing as Jisung screeches into his hands again.
“Minnie, thank you for the 300 bits,” Jisung says brightly into his camera.
He’s sitting in his chair in front of his dual monitors having just started his stream. The chat is an endless stream of faceless comments, almost all of them asking the question Jisung refuses to acknowledge. He’s already imagining the many messages from his stream moderator, Felix.
“Is your Twitter status true?” The robotic text-to-speech voice calls out monotonously.
Jisung curses himself for ever setting up text-to-speech for his donations. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the chat picking up its pace frantically. He stops setting up the game he had been working on to stare directly at the camera. He knows that they deserve an answer, but he’s still not ready to speak any of this into existence from his own mouth. Still, he takes a breath, plasters a smile on his face, and answers as calmly as he can.
“Yes. It’s true.”
The chat goes wild.
It goes like this; Jisung silently screaming into his folded arms as he rests his head against Chan’s breakfast bar. Changbin lounging on the black, cloth, couch staring out the large bay window to his left. And Chan, standing between the two of them with a concerned look on his face.
No one speaks for several long agonizing minutes. And then Jisung decides that enough has to be enough. At the end of the day, he started this fire and it was his job to put it out before he started an unstoppable forest fire.
“What’s the plan?” Changbin asks in that same apathetic voice he’s used all day.
Jisung wonders how he isn’t freaking out more. How his voice does not waver in emotions or how he does not scream in frustration. How does he not care?
“We could just play along,” Chan suggests.
Jisung watches the way the oldest fidgets with his phone. He is not able to meet the other’s eyes. The dark orbs are staring pointedly at his phone - even though the screen is dark.
“Play along?” Changbin asks.
“I mean, what’s the worst that can happen if we just stay married,” Chan asks lightly as he shrugs his shoulders.
A lot , Jisung thinks to himself.
But when he glances at his own phone - turned off from the incessant buzzing of notifications - he knows what the worst thing that can happen is.
“What do you have in mind?” Jisung still allows himself to ask.
And Chan lays out a plan that Jisung can’t fight.
Changbin drops a cardboard box labeled “Streaming Setup” in bold block letters. He’s pretty sure that when he caught a glimpse inside because of the flaps not being shut correctly it was a few figurines of vaguely familiar video game characters and some folded up posters. So he doesn’t know why it’s been labeled that way. But who was he to judge how Jisung packed his things. Maybe they’re actually important to his streaming setup.
Talking about Jisung, he can see the other red-faced and sweating, panting over his own boxes he had brought up. They decided that Chan’s place would be the best place to move into if they wanted to keep up the facade of being married. Chan’s apartment was the biggest, and he had enough rooms to keep his at home studio and for Jisung to have a streaming room.
Changbin was just happy they could sleep on the same bed at least. He could work from anywhere. Especially since his job was just performing at bars and uploading his music to Soundcloud and YouTube hoping that people would like it.
Not many people have heard of him or started listening to him.
He still has hope.
“How about you guys finish the unpacking of boxes here, and I’ll bring up the rest,” Chan suggests.
He was mostly inside, organizing the boxes and putting them in their respective rooms. He’s smiling, but Changbin can tell he’s wary about this. He wonders how long it’s been since Chan has had other people living with him. Wonders how far they can push until Chan finally snaps.
But as for right now, just like he did two weeks ago, he pushes those thoughts to the back of his head and nods. “Yeah, I think if Jisung has to carry any more boxes he might actually pass out.”
Both Chan and Changbin turn to look at the youngest who is now laying on the floor spread out like a starfish. “I’m ok,” Jisung pants out.
The two oldest share a look. “Yeah, I’ll finish bring up the boxes. You guys can stay here and unpack.”
Changbin watches him weave through the maze of cardboard boxes and slip out of the door. He stays in his spot for just a moment longer before making his way to the kitchen. It’s also full of boxes, some opened and others unpacked. Changbin ignores them all and heads to the cabinet where he knows the glasses are. It looks like Jisung will need a glass of water. The most he can do is try to help him out.
Everything is only going to get weirder from here. It’s best to make a good impression.
It goes like this; the three of them spread out across Chan’s living room floor. It’s covered in lime green sticky notes - the only paper Chan had available. They’re stained with dark in, random facts are written hastily as if that will allow them to memorize every detail better.
Chan is from Australia . The one next to Chang’s elbow reads. Jisung is a Twitch streamer. The one by his fingers states. Changbin is swimming in so many words and sticky notes that it almost feels impersonal to him, having all these facts written out for the world to see.
It reminds Changbin of studying in high school. All of his notes scattered around the room, sticky notes high lighting the most important parts. But Changbin isn’t in high school. He isn’t studying for a test where all the answers were listed out nicely. He’s lying to the world, staying married to two virtual strangers.
But as he catches the concentrated gaze on Chan’s face and the furrowed brow of Jisung, all he can think is that he wants to know them. Not just their favorite foods and colors, but everything the sticky notes don’t say.
Do you miss Australia?
What’s your favorite memory from a stream?
What’s a fear you’ve never told anyone?
Why did you marry us? Me?
What happens next?
Having roommates is… strange. Chan is no longer used to sharing his space with anyone anymore. He’s not used to the noise, the clutter, or the presence of people. He tries to get used to it. Tries to be accommodating, welcoming. But he won’t lie and say he doesn’t spend more time in his studio.
Nothing has changed here. There are no strangers, no extra things littered around. Just Chan and everything he’s used to.
“You can’t just move into your studio, Channie,” an amused voice says from his left.
Chan gives a light-hearted glare. “I’m not moving into my studio, Minho,” he says.
Minho has a smile on his face that just looks like he’s trying his best to not laugh. “You keep telling yourself that.”
Chan decides to ignore him. In fact, he regrets the day he walked up to the new dance instructor and said anything. Minho has always been a voice of reason, but Chan’s trying to ignore that.
“They’re going to think you hate them. And that’s only gonna make everything hurt in the long run,” Minho tells him.
“Maybe I can go home for dinner,” Chan says.
Minho smiles. “Good.”
And Chan does go home for diner. And it’s a mess as soon as he steps inside. The living room is covered in blankets and pillows. He’s about to investigate when he hears Jisung and Changbin screeching in the kitchen.
A part of him wants to walk outside the door, but a bigger part of him needs to see what’s happening. He won’t be able to deal if someone is hurt. Or if someone broke his kitchen.
“What is… happening,” Chan trails off when he sees the state of his kitchen and the occupants inside.
There’s a camera set up on the bar and another in the corner pointing at Jisung and Changbin. There’s flour covering the counters, and most of his the other two. Something is boiling on his stove, and the sink is filled with dishes. The only clean spot is a laptop connected to the cameras.
Must be a Twitch thing, Chan thinks.
“Chan!” Jisung shouts.
He has a smile on his face, but something in his eyes seems worried. Chan thinks about Minho’s words.
“Hi, Jisung,” he says softly. “You guys having fun?”
Jisung nods. “The chat wanted to meet you guys, but I said no. And a cooking stream for a subgoal was already in the works, so we compromised. And then Changbin said he wanted to join, so he did. But we got sidetracked,” he rambles.
Chan can’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “Guess it’s good I came home then. I can keep you guys in line.”
Jisung's smile is a mix of joy and hope. Changbin’s gaze is warm. And for the first time since they all moved in together, Chan feels like he’s at home again.
Even if he’s stepping in front of a camera and acting like he’s known Changbin and Jisung for years, everything feels like it could be ok.
“You seem happier,” Felix says on discord one night.
They’re playing CS: Go off stream. They were playing together on stream before, but nothing important was said. Jisung says a lot, he absolutely loves sharing things with his fans, but there are things he refuses to talk about. And Felix knows. It’s the only reason he’s bringing it up now.
“Do I?” Jisung muses.
“Yeah,” Felix says.
Gunshots ring out from the game. Jisung barely registers the sound. After a few hours of playing the game and hearing the sounds, he’s grown used to it. Instead, he’s more focused on Felix and their conversation. He doesn’t even register anything that is happening.
“I was worried,” Felix says. “But they seem pretty cool. I do actually want to meet them still.”
Jisung softly laughs. “Maybe,” he teases.
Ever since the cooking stream a week ago, Chan and Changbin are no longer strangers to his streams. Changbin likes to sit in Jisung’s room and write. Jisung doesn’t know what he writes, but he’s also too scared to ask and find out the answer.
Chan is still busy, he’s in the middle of helping some up-and-coming singer write an album, but there are times when he’ll bring Jisung food. He’ll stop and chat for a little bit, which is nice. Other times, especially when he’s tired, he’ll sit on the floor and try his best to cuddle into Jisung’s legs.
Jisung can’t resist petting his hair when this happens. Chat loves it.
But not much is said. Jisung said he wanted to respect their privacy, and most of his chat and fans agreed to do the same. The ones who don’t follow his rules get banned from his chat or blocked on Twitter.
Still, Jisung does feel happier. Chan seems more welcoming, less stressed about all the change. Changbin is still quiet, but he and Jisung talk more. Hushed 2 am conversations about hopes and dreams.
It’s new and strange. But it’s nice.
He’s worried about the other shoe dropping.
“You’re a mess,” Seungmin tells Cahngbin plainly. “How are you such a mess?”
Seungmin is sitting in a small, rent for a few hours studio next to Changbin. They’re working on a song together. Something new to release since people seemed to like their last song. But Seungmin is more intent on talking instead of working. “Seungmin, can we please just work?”
“You’ve been staring at the same spot of this song for the last five minutes. You need a break,” Seungmin deadpans.
Changbin growls. “We need to get this done.”
“Can’t you just ask your husband for help? Isn’t he a record producer?”
Changbin has thought of that before, but honestly… Chan looks so tired whenever he does get home that the words always die in his throat.
“He’s busy,” Changbin says, “he’s helping produce a new album for some kid named Jeongin.”
“We works with Jeongin?” Seungmin says in disbelief. “That’s so cool. Jeongin has so much talent for being so young.”
Changbin rolls his eyes as Seungmin keeps rambling. He should’ve just stayed quiet.
“Umm… Chan?” Changbin asks quietly.
Chan looks away from his computer to look at Changbin. “What’s up Binnie?”
Changbin shuffles his feet. “I know you’re probably busy, but I was wondering if I could bother you for a second. There’s a project I’m working on and was hoping for your help.”
Chan’s smile turns soft. “Absolutely what do you need?”
Changbin smiles, relieved. “Ok, so there’s this song…”
“Whatcha doing?” Jeongin asks.
They’re taking a break in Chan’s studio. Jeongin is listening to his own tracks to see if he likes how they have turned out, but he noticed Chan was doing something else. There’s another song pulled up on his monitor that he’s working on dutifully.
“My husband asked me for some help on a song. It’s good, there are just a few things that needed to be done.”
“Wait, you getting married wasn’t a joke?” Jeongin screeches.
Chan laughs.
“Here, listen. I think I got it figured out,” Chan says, shoving a flash drive at Changbin as soon as he walks into their apartment.
Jisung and Changbin are curled around each other on the couch. Chan wonders, briefly, if he could force his way into the cuddles. But he’s reminded of his task on hand just a few seconds later. Ne needs Changbin to listen to the song right now.
Changbin raises a brow but untangles himself from Jisung, who immediately starts to whine. Changbin ignores him and instead grabs the offered object from Chan’s fingers. “Ok, let’s listen,” he says with a laugh.
He’s only able to get up to get a laptop when he promises Jisung he’ll be back. Chan is quick to please Jisung by curling up into the younger. He makes sure that there is room for Changbin to cuddle them when he comes back.
Changbin smiles when he comes back to see his husbands cuddled together. He’s quick to join in on the cuddle pile, but only after he places the unlocked laptop on the coffee table in front of them.
“Play it!” Jisung encourages loudly.
Changbin takes a breath and presses play.
And well, it goes like this; Jisung cheering loudly when the song ends. He won’t stop praising “his two talented husbands”. chan smiling brightly, laughing at Jisungs praises even has his ears turn red.
And Changbin watching them with wide eyes and warm cheeks. It’s instinct, honestly, when he leans over and kisses Chan.
But no one minds. Kissing just becomes a part of their routine.
“Thank you Zinksy for the $20 donation,” Jisung says brightly.
“What song is this?” the text-to-speech reads out monotonously.
Jisung beams. “It’s my husband's song! Isn’t it great? You should check out Changbin more, he’s on Soundcloud under Spear B! I’m trying to get him to put his songs on Spotify though. He just keeps fighting me on every front.”
The chat flies by and Jisung couldn’t be happier.
“Why are we awake?” Changbin grumbles. It comes out muffled, his face pressed into Jisung’s shoulder.
“The new game I’ve been dying to play comes out tonight! And I want to play it with you guys,” Jisung says excitedly.
Changbin groans, but Jisung ignores him. They’ll have fun, he knows it. Even if Changbin isn’t actually good at games.
Look around their apartment, Chan can’t even remember what it used to look like. Notebook paper is thrown around the living room, Changbin’s messy writing just visible. Random video game memorabilia is scattered on every surface. Mario figurines, key blade replicas, and even Minecraft figures are hidden. Chan can see a stuffed Minecraft sheep resting on the arm of the couch.
His TV stand is filled with video game cases. Once upon a time, they were nicely sorted, but Jisung must’ve gone on a video game binge last night if the way they’re strewn about is any indication. There’s also almost every video game console known to man sitting on the empty shelves of the stand. Chan even sees a Wii hidden in the shadows.
Jisung really made himself at home. And Changbin, but Chan can’t find it in himself to complain.
“Chan!” The youngest shouts.
Chan smiles, giving the younger a kiss. “Hi, handsome,” he says with a laugh.
“Come on, Changbin is almost done with dinner. Felix said he and Hyunjin will be here soon,” Jisung says brightly.
Chan allows himself to be dragged behind the younger. Sure, his apartment may have changed, but Chan doesn’t think he would ever want it to go back to the way it was. Not when looking around, he knows the apartment is not just his anymore. It’s theirs.
Which is why it goes like this: three husbands happy and hopeful. They’re laying on the king-sized bed, Changbin in the middle, Jisung curled up on his right and Chan on his left. They’re talking in hushed whispers, giving away more pieces of themselves than they ever could have thought of on those lime green sticky notes they wrote all those months ago.
Jisung has started a YouTube channel where he can give reviews on video games, but also where he can just talk about his husbands. The fans love it when they show up in the videos, and the chat always starts screaming whenever one of them walks into the room during his streams.
Changbin finally relented and put his music on Spotify. Jisung plays his songs almost every stream, and his listener count has only gotten higher. Chan keeps trying to get him to sign to the agency he works for, but Changbin is content to be independent for a little while longer.
And Chan, well Chan is just happy to not be coming home to empty apartments and that he didn’t make a mistake all those months ago when he agreed to get married.
“You know I love you guys right?” Chan whispers into the soft atmosphere they’ve created.
“Yeah, and we love you too,” Jisung answers.
And Changbin thinks back to those lime green sticky notes and how impersonal it felt to look at all those facts. He thinks about wanting to know more about the two men he ended up entwining his life with.
“I think I’ve liked you since the night we met,” Changbin confesses. “I’ve been wanting to know you since the moment I met you.”
The other two smile. They’ve always known that Changbin was more secure with this arrangement than they were. He was always prepared to do whatever it took. Always willing to cuddle before it was the norm, and willing to just be with them.
“Fate is a weird thing,” Jisung muses.
Because what else could this be than fate. Three strangers meeting at a bar and slowly falling in love one Twitch stream, song, and video game at a time.
“It is, but I’m happy it brought me you,” Chan whispers always the sap with the three of them.
Outside the moon is high in the sky. Its light just barely glinting off the silver bands across the three men’s ring fingers. Their fingers are all tangled together, a mockery of holding hands. And this is how they fall asleep.