Jeongin ran his empty knuckles over the kitchen tile below him as he sat on the counter, other happily gripping a blueberry muffin the older brought back from his grocery run a few hours prior. His feet swung back and forth, heels bumping against the cabinet doors underneath as the quiet thuds filled the silence of the high-rise. Chan was loitering nearby, wordlessly slotting the items he bought into their respective spots. Most items were healthy food. A lot were healthy food. As Jeongin frowned, he had the sneaking suspicion he was going to be forced to eat most of it.

He scanned the older's back; Noting the way he moved around the kitchen with ease, memorizing all the locations where his shirt rode up every time he reached above him, hungrily nibbling on the muffin whenever his stomach started snapping at him for not feeding it, before trailing the visible veins under Chan's skin, and repeating the process too many times to be considered healthy. At least the muffin acted as good cover before he was discovered, multiple times. If the older noticed, which it was exceedingly hard not to be cognisant of the fact eyes were followed him at every turn, then he never made a comment on it. Only, seemed perfectly content stacking away his newly bought groceries.

As Jeongin finished off the last of the muffin, promptly slugging it down with the reheated mug of warm water and honey from last night, he wiggled a bit before settling again. His hands came to rest around the warm cup as he inquired hesitantly, "Did you really not delete any contacts from my phone?"

"Told you what I was guilty of, I don't think that was one of them," Chan said as he opened up one of the shelves, carefully shoving a cereal box to hide between the other items thrown up there without much thought. He closed the door, tossing a glance to the younger but not making eye contact as he explained, "Seems a bit cruel of me to do."

"You're cruel."

"Probably deserve that."

Jeongin pressed his lips into a thin line, "How can you just take everything I say to you?"

"Because I know they're only words. Don't actually mean most of them," Chan nodded along as he backed up from the counter and went back to searching in the shopping bags. He took something up in his hands, fiddling with it for a while before tossing a wrapping to the counter and placing it down. The older reached into his pocket and brought it to his face as the sound of clicking filled the air around them. This smell, one that lingered in the older's car on off days, one that made Jeongin cringe despite the sweet but stinging undertones it carried with it.

As Chan turned to continue his work around the kitchen, messily tossing down an oddly familiar lighter to the counters, the younger trained his eyes on the obvious cigarette placed gently between the older's lips. Almost immediately, Jeongin could feel the small frown overcoming his lips. As Chan passed by, the younger grabbed a tuff of cloth from his shoulder, pulling him back to him as he ran his finger tips over the street racer's lip, taking care not to burn himself on the lit end, "Do you smoke often?"

"No, or I try not to. Haven't really recently, few of the crew members don't like the smell. Nasty habit anyway. It's not attractive, it's disgusting," Chan scowled at the kitchen top as he removed the cigarette from his mouth and held it between his fingers, hands coming to brace himself on either side of the younger's hips as his mind seemed to wander. Then, seeming to miraculously come back from wherever his thoughts briefly escape to, he explained with a quiet tone, "Only reason I keep it is because it calms me when I'm stressed. Not like I'm planning to live forever anyway."

Jeongin snatched the cigarette from his hand, "You should take better care of yourself."

"You're one to talk," Chan took it back from him, a slight snap on the edge of his tongue as he did. He stared at the cigarette for a few beats before tossing it in the sink across from them with a slight sigh and going back to the shopping bags, grabbing more of what he splurged on to put away.

"Why are you so distant?" The younger frowned at him, eyes narrowing as they trained on the street racer's back.

Chan placed the bag of broccoli down on the counter next to Jeongin, the latter barely being able to take him seriously because of the broccoli, but nonetheless ceasing his slight amusement as soon as the older let his face fall, "Why do you push me away, even when you say you need help?"

"I don't know, I just," Jeongin growled as he scratched at his temple and admitted, "It's embarrassing and kind of stupid, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Chan shook his head softly. He picked his broccoli back up from the counter, haphazardly tossing it in a bottom drawer inside his fridge before nudging the compartment closed. The street racer turned back to the nearly empty shopping bags as he told, "But we need to talk about where you want to go from here."

Jeongin pursed his lips, lightly blowing air into his cheeks as he pressed the pads of his fingertips together. He could still feel the silhouette of the other's lips engraved into his nerves, a quiet reminder of how badly he wished to have those lips back on his instead of truly talking, and a reminder to exercise a certain air of self-restraint before he found himself in an inescapable situation or even worse, find himself pouncing on the older when he was barely able to figure out his needs and wants in correlation to the uncomfortable topic of emotions. Something that had been wildly swinging from one strong feeling to the next; breaking down in one moment, then being okay in the next, on the verge of tears then laughing happily as if nothing was wrong.

His fist tightened around itself as he asked softly, "Is staying here still an option?"

"Mhm. Can stay here as long as you need, can take my room over. Gut it out, decorate it, do whatever you want," Chan explained as he turned his back to the younger and returned to his shopping bags, completely devoid of any items that might linger inside. He quickly balled it up, the plastic crinkling under his touch as it became a perfect sphere in his hands. Or at least from what the younger could tell, from the angle he was at.

Jeongin rounded up the last of his courage and bit his lip, "Is seeing you an option too?"

Immediately, he noticed Chan's shoulder tense. His hands stopped crinkling the plastic bag into a ball, instead a soft ruffling met the younger's ears, no doubt his grip tightening and loosening as he thought up a response. A clever one, a witty one, even one that turned him down and proclaimed that they never shared a mutual feeling, instead he fiddled with the plastic bag. At one point, Jeongin was almost able to convince himself the older didn't hear him, until Chan breathed, "Can see me fine, can't you? Don't know why you suddenly wouldn't be able to."

"I don't mean it in that way," Jeongin sighed softly. glanced down to his lap before his eyes drifted back to the stiff form of the other, "Like, what are we?"

"Humans," Chan replied. As an afterthought, he mumbled, "Hope so? Might be aliens, or robots."

"You're either really oblivious or really good at pissing me off," The younger finally snapped at him, a twinge of irritation sneaking in his tone not as well as he thought it had been. He brought his legs to cross on top of the counter, hands idly clutching at his ankles in an attempt for a comfort as he waited for the older's response.

He was still stiff, as if stone filled his veins and lead replaced his muscles, a kind of soreness that didn't exist as he continued to grip at the ball of plastic shopping bags. His grip was unyielding on it as far as Jeongin could tell, as if he was certain his fingers would slip through the fabrics of reality and his touch would be lost to a shrouded fog. Yet, Chan didn't turn around, simply told, "Not an idiot Songbird, I know what you're talking about."

Jeongin started, "Then-"

Chan swiftly cut him off, "Told you, you shouldn't. Being with me, it'll tie you down. If I'm caught, you're caught, if you want to go anywhere in life, you can't because you'll always be associated with me even after I'm gone. Hated being your parent's lap dog, it would be worse with me to no fault of either of us."

"From then on, you're the King's bitch, nothing else. There's street racers in higher places, if they know you, you'll never make it anywhere but in cars and drug deals. That's not, something you should be doing for the rest of your life," Chan continued to reason, or attempt to reason with the younger as his head continued to hang low to gape at the shopping bag ball scrunching with sharp noises st every small movement. The street racer softly uttered, "Don't throw it away for me."

"You're still insisting this?" The younger hopped off the counter, feet padding gently against the kitchen floors as he approached the older. His eyebrows furrowed, Why is he so focused on the shopping bags? Jeongin let a frown overtake his features, "After all the car rides, talks, everything, even last night, you're saying that you want to let all that go?"

Chan mumbled, voice wavering slightly in hardly noticeable areas, "Don't think you should be so obsessed with me."

"Obsessed with you?" Jeongin scoffed as he stepped back, "What do you hope will happen by saying this?"

Chan stayed quiet, but he let go of his crafted plastic bag ball he was so fond off.

"Are you hoping that I leave?" The younger placed a comforting hand on his back.

Chan lurched from the touch. It was often the younger thought of Chan's silent rage as a venom; A toxin that consumed from the inside and grew out till it couldn't be contained anymore. As his eyes darkened, not by a venom, not by an anger, they were darkened with a wrath Jeongin had never seen the older be decorated in before. Yet even then, he never raised his voice above a certain level, as dominating as it was, he never yelled. Instead, he seethed quietly, fangs coating with a poison that only let him bare his loathing towards the world, "I was hoping you'd go live a normal fucking life."

Almost as quickly as that darkness flashed on his features, Chan snapped out of it. He began muttering a string of apologies to him in which his tamber suggested he didn't expect atonement. Carefully he leaned his lower back against the counter to balance himself and his hands rubbed at his tired eyes, an exhaustion overcoming his face that told Jeongin he wasn't willing to keep fighting a losing battle. What that battle was against was anyone's guess. Even then, as Jeongin's thundering heart slowed down to a reasonable level, he silently shifted back. What was that?

Chan stared at him for a few beats, gentle eyes raking over his unsure form with a fondness that was barely present seconds prior. He combed his hair back with his fingers, constantly trying to push it from his face as his voice cracked, "I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you, just... When you came back to the shop, I knew that it was my fault. If I never dragged you into this, if I never sent Jisung after you, you would still be with your family. It is my fault. I hoped if I cut you free from us then you can go back and live like you had before. And with the police breathing down our necks right now, I was hoping you'd be safe and far away from me so we don't drag another person down with us. On top of that, the crew members are looking to me for answers and I can't give them any."

"But you hurt yourself, and it was even worse because when Changbin called because I knew I couldn't do anything to help you. I just knew you deserved more than this, and you deserve more than what I can give you. I don't want you to settle for someone like me," Chan dropped his gaze to his boots, hands coming to brace on the counter behind him as he did so. He finalized, "I hoped you'd be mad and forget about me."

Jeongin narrowed his eyes at Chan. Without hesitation, he stepped closer to the older, nearly squeezing their chests together as he took his face up in gentle hands and met his eyes. They weren't watery, or beginning to melt into the anguish that red devoted to the days of tears, yet there was a glimmer of something in there. Behind the teasing and provoking conversations, days observing and gauging personalities, the tempo of a king flickering, a dangerous taunting for more, there was an incredible sadness. Not one that he presented willingly, but one that was masked behind layers and layers of complexity in a labyrinth the older built up to hide away his monsters till it was forgotten. Whoever tried to conquer it, fell victim to the secrets it held and were scattered. While he was lost in that maze, Jeongin suddenly realized; I know nothing about you.

Gently, he let his forehead fall against Chan's and his hands threaded together on the nape of the older's neck. Jeongin listening to the gentle throbbing of his heart in his ears, soft yet exhausted puffing on his neck, the gentle tickling of eyelashes fluttering and leaving kisses on his skin, that slight cigarette smell hiding between them. When Chan didn't move, Jeongin barely spotting the war of should he or should he not in his features, he dropped his head to the older's damaged ear he would forever remain guilt of and barely whispered, "You can touch me if you want to."

Slowly, two hands found their way to his waist before resting comfortably around his body, pulling the younger into an excuse of a hug. For a while they stood there in that uncomfortable concoction of a hug with the younger's face buried into Chan's shoulder with his elbows scrunched up and the older held him close.

Eventually, Jeongin nuzzled into the older's neck, arms finally stretching out past Chan's shoulders as he deflated against him, "We're both messed up, aren't we?"

"Probably," Chan nodded. Jeongin felt the reverberations of his voice echoing through his throat and to his eardrums, the low tremor sending him into a lighter state of being. Feeling as if he was traversing cloud nine when in reality he was just tired and falling asleep against the person he trusted the most and the least simultaneously.

"Emotions are dumb. It would be easier if we hated each other and got this over with," Jeongin agreed with a slight groan, the comment earning a slight puff of amusement from Chan. He let the content swell in his chest turn the corner of his lips up into a smile, "But you make me feel good. I don't think that's hate."

"Not hate," Chan shook his head, a tiny bit of amusement returning to his voice. The same kind of tone a child uses when they know something that you didn't, and wanted to tease you about it. Before Jeongin could argue back, Chan readjusted his grip on the younger; His hand came to thread through the red strands of hair to hold him closer. He hummed lowly, once again sending a miniature earthquake through Jeongin's skull that relaxed his mind from it's tenseness, "We can start looking for professional help for you too. A therapist, or we can try to find what would work for you. Don't worry about cost."

Jeongin nodded, breathed deeper than he had in a long time, and settled more against the older. If not for the buffer he used, the buffer of Chan's foot, and the grip that was kept on him he was sure he would have fallen over at that point. After a tiring week of breakdowns, strong emotions no longer satisfied being contained, longing, yearning, and most of all heartache, this was enough. Simply a hug to tell each other that everything will be alright, everything will work out.

Another low shake was sent through to his brain, "Songbird."

Jeongin hummed a light acknowledge, already feeling the onset of lack of sleep sending him into a nap when it was paired with the comforting touch and low vibrations to his head. Again, a warmth in his chest. It felt amazing.

"Never mind. Not important."

"I want you to make a promise for me," The younger completed for him. Being lulled to sleep without much effort, he slurred again, "Guide me, but don't make decisions for me. Help me, but don't control me. Please. I don't need to be told what to do, I just need to know what I'm doing is right."

A hand pressed flat to into the small of his back, "What you want, I want for you. I do. I promise." 

"And," Jeongin pulled away from the embrace, coming to brace himself against the older's arms as he was held. He locked their eyes, telling the deep labyrinth inside the other's eyes as he promised to them both, "I'm going to communicate with you more, I mean, I'll communicate with everyone. I'm not... I'm not going to push anyone away anymore. I'm going to try to be better."

Chan breathed for a moment

He pulled the younger back into his embrace, arms wrapping tight around the frame. His head buried into the younger's neck. 

✘