Chapter Text
"Don't ever think I fell for you, or fell over you.
I didn't fall in love, I rose in it. I saw you and made up my mind."
x x x x x
"You purchased what, now?"
If was honest with himself, Jinyoung thought he heard Jaebeom wrong altogether. He'd had a headache that pounded between his temples all morning, like the top of his head was constantly submerged in deep water. It wasn't so severe that he considered canceling the plans he made with Jaebeom a week prior — just hanging out at home, away from the public eye — but it was enough to make him second guess his own listening skills.
Jaebeom just bought a what?
"A house," said Jaebeom, staring out the large living room windows. The mid-day sunshine painted streaks of light along the line of his body. "Well, sort of. The place was foreclosed and in such bad shape that no one's attempted to purchase it ever since it went up on the market."
"A house," Jinyoung echoed back, testing the words on his tongue. It sounded foreign. People didn’t purchase single family houses in Seoul anymore; they bought semi-basement suites, condos, high-rise apartments, and penthouses. "Like, a whole house. In… Jinhae. My hometown?"
Jaebeom's lips curled into a feline smile, looking down for a moment self-consciously before his eyes darted over to Jinyoung, who sat on the sofa. The script he was reading silently while Jaebeom worked on music lay forgotten next to him.
"I mean, it's still got a roof and a foundation so I'd say it counts as a house. I didn't go see it in person—"
"—you bought it without even seeing it?" Jinyoung cut in smoothly, though the other boy just as smoothly ignored it.
"—and in the photos it looks like the floors are molding, there’s a bunch of broken windows and framing that need replacing, etcetera," Jaebeom continued, this time looking oddly proud. “A fixer-upper. Or something like that.”
Jinyoung tilted his head pensively at the older boy. Despite the small fortune they’d all made over the past decade of their careers, Jaebeom never really dabbled in real estate like Jackson and Mark did, he’d always preferred to invest in the stock market. The only thing that sounded Jaebeom-esque about the whole situation was the way he alluded to needing to fix up this so-called house.
Because he was the type to want to put in some elbow grease to improve something in his spare time — his motorcycle, a bookcase, anything. But, really? A whole house?
“What on earth would you purchase an abandoned, likely decrepit, house in Jinhae for?” asked Jinyoung, raising a thick brow at Jaebeom. He was half confused and mildly amused by the elder’s antics. “Are you having a midlife crisis?”
Jaebeom puffed out a laugh at that, turning on his heel languidly to join Jinyoung where he sat. The couch shifted under his weight as he pulled up one knee to rest beneath his chin. With fluffy hair and clear, alabaster skin, sometimes Jinyoung forgot that Jaebeom just turned twenty-seven.
“If I am, you might be joining soon right with me,” Jaebeom replied, mirth in his eyes. “But in all seriousness, it’s the view that really sold me. The house is up on this giant hill, nestled among dozens of other charming houses. It’s got these tall stone fences. On one side it overlooks the ocean, and down below on the other side — train tracks and cherry blossom trees. Like something out of an anime. You know, Makoto Shinkai style.”
“You sound like a realtor,” Jinyoung joked, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips that he couldn’t stop. There was something about the giddy way Jaebeom spoke when he was excited that made Jinyoung want to soak himself in the sound. “Why does it seem like you’re trying to sell me on it?”
Jaebeom paused, glancing down at the thick, bound stack of crisp white papers that sat next to Jinyoung. A new script he was reading over.
“Well, I wanna try to do the repairs myself. I used to help my dad with stuff like that around the farm when I was a kid,” he began, a wistful look on his face, like he was diving back into a long-ago dream. “But I do realize it’ll be quite some job to do alone. Especially with careers like ours, it’s hard to find time to do it.”
“I think that’s where professionals come in — a contractor, perhaps? A small construction company?” Jinyoung said, the teasing tone light in the air. He couldn’t help breaking into a grin when his oldest friend began to pout before him.
“Who needs a contractor? You can learn anything on YouTube these days, Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebeom dipped toward Jinyoung’s ear as if sharing a secret, and the other boy leaned forward instinctively. “What I really need is a Jinhae native who knows the city, and can also be bribed with custard buns and curry bread to help me out with the renovations.”
Simultaneously, the two boys pulled away from each other; Jaebeom with that shy, adorable expression that he rarely showed anyone, and Jinyoung, a slight exasperation.
“So… me. I’m the Jinhae native,” Jinyoung deadpanned, leaning back against the cushions to survey the other boy’s face.
Jaebeom grinned. “Well — yes. Yes, you are.”
Something beat hard inside Jinyoung’s chest as he stared back at Jaebeom. Ten minutes ago they were spending time in companionable silence, the first time they were able to hang out in several weeks. The idea of fixing up an old house with Jaebeom would’ve seemed ludicrous at best. But the hopeful look on Jaebeom’s face made Jinyoung think otherwise, as it usually did.
Like when, once upon a time, Jaebeom promised they’d debut together again. When he told him they’d win a daesang, and when he assured Jinyoung that his acting career would flourish. Jaebeom always had a way to make Jinyoung believe — in himself, in their team, in their futures.
Jinyoung was very suddenly, and sorely, reminded of all the years they spent together. Then he could imagine it easily: quiet days spent working together on a rickety-old house, far from any cameras and chaos. The image was paired with the picture-perfect memory of his hometown that was tucked safely away in his heart ever since the day he left.
It was everything Seoul wasn’t. Seoul was all neon lights and concrete skyscrapers. Seoul was JYPE and years of literal blood, sweat and tears.
Jinhae, though — Jinhae was pine covered mountains which hugged the Masan Bay. It was the scent of salt water in the air and a sky swirling with cherry blossom petals. Jinhae was peace and nostalgia and happy childhood memories.
It might’ve been a rare bout of homesickness which suddenly came about that made Jinyoung chuckle gently, more to himself than anything. But to the older boy, it was a clear sign that he conceded. Jaebeom’s ears perked up at the sound and he kept his eyes trained on the man in front of him.
“When were you thinking of going?” Jinyoung asked simply. Jaebeom’s face melted into an excited grin — he should’ve known that Jinyoung would go with him anywhere if he asked.
His whole face brightened. “I know you’re busy filming for the next while,” Jaebeom said. “There’s no rush. It would be hard to do renovations with winter coming soon anyway. I was thinking in Spring. Before the trees bloom.”
Glancing out the window, Jinyoung noted the overcast sky and faraway rows of gold and pumpkin-orange trees that partly made up the skyline. He couldn’t recall the specifics of next year’s schedule but he was sure there were a few weeks hidden somewhere in the springtime that he could use to get away with Jaebeom and work on this unusual home renovation project.
“Okay, hyung,” Jinyoung said. His head felt lighter, the migraine somehow gone away. “My grandparents will be happy to see us. In the spring… we’ll go to Jinhae.”
x x x x x x x x
Jinyoung shifted his duffle bag across his chest so that he could zip his jacket further up his neck. Although the season had changed and snow was long gone, night time still proved to be pretty brisk. He tucked the lower half of his face into the collar of his fuzzy, teddy-bear brown jacket, looking dolefully at the automated ticket kiosk in front of him. Before he could find his desired destination on the brightly-lit screen, an arm reached past his ear, clicking the options displayed.
“This one, right?” Jaebeom asked, stepping forward to just barely brush against Jinyoung’s back. His fingers hovered over the monitor, waiting for a response.
Jinyoung checked over the names listed of stations in the southern part of the country. The proximity of Jaebeom’s body momentarily blocked the wind, and a barely-there warmth emanated from the older boy’s chest. “Yeah, there first. Then a taxi from the station won’t be too far from my grandparent’s house.”
From behind him, Jaebeom clicked his tongue. “I feel bad that we’re gonna arrive at such a late — or like, early, hour,” he said, pressing in the last couple of options to get a pair of tickets for them. With each movement of his fingers, his elbow brushed softly against Jinyoung‘s ear.
Jinyoung hummed in acquiescence, watching as the machine spit out their tickets. It was well after midnight, meaning they would probably arrive in Jinhae around five in the morning via the overnight train.
“Gramps said it’s fine,” Jinyoung turned back to the other boy, trying to placate his worries. “He gets up around five to go flirt with the ladies at the morning fish market anyhow.”
Jaebeom offered him a lopsided, sleepy grin. He’d stayed up late waiting for Jinyoung to finish filming and then meet him at the station. Even though technically they’d waited for Jinyoung to wrap up, they both knew it was just better anyway to leave under the cloak of darkness instead of possibly being mobbed by fans.
They simultaneously shoved their hands in the pockets of their respective jackets and began walking in the direction of the platform. From his peripheral vision, Jinyoung could tell Jaebeom was glancing at him every so often as if he wanted to say something.
“What is it, hyung?” Jinyoung found himself asking. They’d walked leisurely past an open coffee shop and the smell of roasting beans pleasantly filled his senses. “Why do you keep looking at me?”
This time Jaebeom craned his neck to the side completely, looking at Jinyoung as they continued forward. “Nothing. You’re tired,” the older boy replied. “So I feel sorry that I dragged you on this little trip.”
Jinyoung halted his feet, causing Jaebeom to stop a couple steps away and look back curiously.
“Don’t be. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to.” It came out more curtly than he meant it to, and the guilty expression on Jaebeom's face remained.
“It’s basically a vacation,” Jinyoung added, softer this time.
Jaebeom raised a brow at the younger man before he turned again to walk. The escalator to their platform was near, and in the background Jinyoung vaguely made out the automated voice warning of standing too near the platform’s edge.
“Except we’ll probably be busy doing renovations the whole time,” Jaebeom countered, shuffling onto the escalator. Jinyoung followed, standing on the step above him as they traveled downwards. “You might need another vacation after this vacation. But instead, you’ll be right back to work in a few weeks from now.”
With a quiet sigh, Jinyoung raised both hands to rest on the shoulders of the boy standing below him. He dipped forward, sliding his chin gently atop Jaebeom’s dark, clean hair.
Jaebeom wasn’t wrong — Jinyoung was tired. So tired.
It was like in the months since they made these plans, his exhaustion only accumulated. Jinyoung loved his job. But with an often monotonous, eighteen-hours-a-day schedule, constantly invaded privacy and the hundreds of people on set that poked and prodded him whenever they felt like it, Jinyoung was often left feeling sad and tired and strangely alone.
“I’m just a little out of it, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to come. I would’ve been mad if you went without me,” Jinyoung mumbled tiredly. He sagged momentarily against Jaebeom, who remained tall and sturdy despite the added weight. “I haven’t really gotten to see anyone lately — not you, or the kids, even my sisters — so yeah, this is a vacation.”
Jinyoung felt the breath Jaebeom was holding leave his chest.
“When we get there, maybe you should rest for a couple of days first. Catch up with your grandparents and old school friends,” Jaebeom said. The escalator flattened out as they reached the bottom, prompting Jinyoung to straighten up and follow Jaebeom onto the deserted platform.
“Yeah. We’ll see,” Jinyoung half-heartedly agreed, shuffling through the train doors. “The damage might be more than you thought, hyung. Three weeks isn’t a ton of time, especially for two amateurs with a couple of hammers.”
Jaebeom snorted. “You have so little faith in me. I’ve been studying up! Just wait, we’ll be installing drywall, reshingling the roof and replacing hardwood floors like pros in no time.”
Stifling a laugh, he let Jaebeom take the lead to find their upgraded reserved seats in a car that was almost entirely empty. It was purely by instinct that Jinyoung tossed his bag with Jaebeom’s on one side of the empty cabin and slid into the seat next to the older boy rather than across.
Jinyoung sighed contentedly as he settled down. The seats in the first-class cabin were soft and comfortable — well worth the upgrade. He stretched his neck, reclining against the cushions.
Jaebeom pulled out a novel from his bag just as the bright fluorescent lights on the train switched to a warm, dim glow. The neon city they were leaving behind flashed reds and blues and greens against a velvet sky, shining painfully in Jinyoung’s tired eyes.
“Here we go,” Jaebeom said under his breath as the train began to pull away. The older boy pulled the privacy curtains halfway closed, darkness spreading pleasantly behind Jinyoung’s heavy eyelids.
They sat close, shoulders touching. Even from behind shuttered lids, Jinyoung could imagine the man beside him with his legs crossed and a peaceful expression on his face as his dark eyes roved slowly over each line on the pages inside his book. He could feel the minuscule movements when Jaebeom turned a page, hear the quiet flick of paper against paper, and feel his deep, even breaths like a lullaby.
“Go to sleep, Park Jinyoung,” Jaebeom murmured softly, the last thing Jinyoung remembered hearing before he drifted off to sleep.
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Jaebeom was snoring softly in Jinyoung's ear when he awoke some hours later. The sound was familiar to him, even if they hadn't slept beside each other for years. The older boy was a soft snorer, like white noise in the background. At some point during the trip, they must've both fallen asleep — Jaebeom's novel laid loosely in his slackened grip, his head tipped towards the crown of Jinyoung's head. Jinyoung was unusually comfy, head laid on the broad line of the other boy's shoulder.
A bright moon filled the sky. Jinyoung blinked the sleepiness from his eyes slowly to be greeted by starlight entering through the half-drawn blinds. Though it was still nighttime, he could tell they were far from the city now, the terrain decidedly much more mountainous. Off in the distance, past the bit of the window Jaebeom hadn't earlier covered, he could see the ocean.
Something like excitement and nerves fluttered in his stomach. He couldn’t wait to see his grandparents, enjoy the charm of the small, traditional home that they’d refused to let Jinyoung upgrade for them. He wanted to walk down the old, cracked sidewalks, under cherry trees that rustled in the salty breeze.
Jinyoung exhaled shakily. It wasn't like he'd never been back to Jinhae or the southern part of the country since he left when he was fifteen. It's just that it had been so long.
And he'd never come back with just Jaebeom.
With a start, Jinyoung realized the emotion creeping up his throat was a bittersweet longing buried deep inside his heart.
For his home, for peace, and…
Jinyoung felt warmth rise to his cheeks, heart thudding at the make-believe implication. And he tried hard to slow his pulse, lest it wake up the man beside him.
He tilted his head ever so slightly from his spot against Jaebeom’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of him. When Jaebeom groaned softly, Jinyoung froze — he let the other man readjust and nuzzle further against Jinyoung’s head. He let out the breath he was holding when Jaebeom stilled again, seemingly asleep.
His heart continued to beat erratically. Jinyoung couldn’t explain it. Looking down, his eyes trailed along their thighs, pressed together on the seat. Jaebeom was wearing distressed jeans, the pale skin of his leg peeking through. Absently, Jinyoung let his fingers skirt across the dark blue denim, stopping to fiddle with the threads. Quiet, quiet, quiet, he tried telling himself.
Whenever Jinyoung was around Jaebeom and their friends, it was natural to fall into the role of ‘hunter’ — when certain feelings bubbled up in his chest, and that limitless affection he had for the other man sometimes felt like too much — it was easy to deflect with sarcasm or snarkiness. But here, together, in the dark and quiet of the train, Jinyoung could only hear Jaebeom breathing softly beside him, and his own heart pounding loudly in his ears.
Fingering the distressed holes of Jaebeom’s pants seemed to help calm his fast-beating heart. Some minutes and deep breaths later, he was again in well-practiced nonchalance.
Jinyoung glanced up. Across the cabin was the other side of the booth seats, their bags piled neatly on top. The wall behind it was dark and glossy — he could make out their reflections in it.
The distorted image of Jinyoung nestled against Jaebeom stared back. He really was very broad, Jinyoung thought, eyeing the wide expanse of shoulder he laid on. Sometimes he forgot how much.
He didn’t know why he felt so comfy like that when there was barely any height difference between them. Jinyoung was slumped over so deeply in his seat that his head somehow fell naturally against the elder. With calm breaths, he didn’t dare to move. The boy in the reflection looked like there was no place else he belonged. Belatedly, Jinyoung realized that he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. Alone, away from the hundreds of faces and voices that plagued his day-to-day, Jinyoung allowed himself to soak in a rare, tiny moment of tenderness with Jaebeom.
The train continued hurtling towards Jinhae, and the pitch-black sky slowly melted into navy, signs that dawn was breaking. Jinyoung closed his eyes again, warm against Jaebeom’s side. He left his pinky and ring finger curled into the loose threads of Jaebeom’s pants as he careened back into slumber.
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Something patted Jinyoung’s leg gently, easing him awake. He opened his eyes to Jaebeom’s hand squeezing his thigh, the silver rings on his fingers reflecting the morning light with each movement.
“We’re here, Jinyoung,” said the elder, clear and light as if he’d been awake for a while.
“R’we?” Jinyoung groaned sleepily, lifting his head from Jaebeom’s shoulder and stretching his stiff limbs. It took him a moment to blink the sleep from his eyes before he finally saw a sprawling pink sky, the view completely unobstructed by the usual unending rows of skyscrapers.
“The sky is so pretty,” Jaebeom remarked. It was like he could read Jinyoung’s mind. “Without any towers in the way, it looks gigantic. Like it goes on and on forever.”
“Yeah…” Jinyoung mumbled in agreement. Moving slowly, the two boys rose and began to gather their bags, knocked on their sides on the seats in front of them. “I almost forgot about that part.”
Jaebeom chuckled, waiting for Jinyoung at the door to their car. “I think we’ve spent too much time in the city lately.” he said, touching Jinyoung’s lower back gently, ushering him through the door first.
A warm gust of wind pushed Jinyoung’s hair back as he stepped onto the above-ground platform. It was breezy out, though not unexpected for the southern part of the country. There were a few other sleepy passengers slowly disembarking, the sounds of luggage wheels rolling along the concrete.
He closed his eyes, inhaling quietly. Jinyoung felt different immediately, smelling the ocean air. Lighter. Like he’d just shed a million pounds.
Jinyoung smiled, turning to Jaebeom. “It’s so much warmer here than—“ he began, until he recognized the camera in Jaebeom’s hands pointed at him. It was the same one he’d taken on their last world tour. “What are you—?”
The other man snickered, sliding the camera back into his bag. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so peaceful. And with the train as the backdrop, too.”
Jinyoung frowned, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. His skin must’ve looked sallow after sleeping on the train, and knowing his own body, facial hair was already probably growing in. Before he could respond, Jaebeom reached around him, touching a palm between his shoulder blades, stroking his thumb absently.
“I’ll show you the photos later. You look handsome, don’t worry,” Jaebeom reassured with a tiny, almost incredulous laugh. “You always do.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jinyoung grumbled. Together, they headed in the direction of the main station where early morning travelers were purchasing tickets and bento stores were opening up for the day. It was different from Seoul and the tired, weary faces that shuffled by. Even though day was only just breaking in Jinhae, Jinyoung spotted a certain contentment on the faces of passersby.
“I haven’t seen that kind of expression on your face in a while,” Jaebeom said thoughtfully. He naturally fell a step behind Jinyoung, to let him lead the way. This was his hometown, after all.
Jinyoung paused, glancing up at the different exits in the station to find the taxi loading zone. It looked slightly different than times when he'd been there before. “And what look is that, hyung?” he asked, leading them past a group of elderly tourists.
“Relieved.”
He stopped then, turning back to the other man with a raised eyebrow. Jaebeom stared back, feigning innocence.
A tiny smirk pulled at the corner of Jinyoung’s lips. “Is it that obvious?”
"Not really," Jaebeom shrugged, puffing out a tiny laugh. He walked past the other boy, playfully knocking a shoulder against his, toward the one taxi waiting for them along the empty streets. "Only to me, Jinyoung-ah!" he called over his shoulder.
Jinyoung stared incredulously at Jaebeom's retreating figure, shrinking in the distance the further he walked away. He watched as Jaebeom waved to the neon-orange cab. It was jarring to the eye against a backdrop of thousand-year-old trees, dense green foliage and cracked, concrete buildings under a burning pink sky. Jinyoung shook his head, breaking into a light jog after the other boy. Something pulled inside his chest, making him wonder if he only imagined the change in direction of the salt-water wind.
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