#im satisfying my murderous tendencies through this fic

[underburningstars]

The best thing about a post-apocalyptic fic is that you can kill people in the most batshit unhinged way and blame it on the aliens

[thxyx]

[thiya’s trash] 012; 2jaenetwork intro

This is late, isn’t it? Ah, I’m sorry, I just wanted to finish this fic.

Anyway, hi! My name is Thiya (you can also call me Thi) and I’m from India. I’m a huge 2jae enthusiast and I write a lot of fanfiction about them. I’m pretty shy and intimidated easily by people so if you’re up for talking do approach me because I will not no matter how badly I want to talk to you. I got into K-pop early 2016 and into GOT7 during December 2016. I was sold to 2jae that easily. I love them so much. I’m also not very good at talking about myself, can you tell? I’m going to quit the intro now - I think my writing says a lot more about me than anything else I can say.

Title: Symphony

Word Count: 4,598

Genre: Fluff, mostly. It’s very cliche stuff, jeez.

Other notes: I wanted to make it six posts but I don’t have that much patience. Also the parts are named after songs, but I accidentally referenced so many other songs and I was laughing about that. This hasn’t been proofread. Super cliche stuff.

1. Rewind

Sharing an apartment with someone who has a tendency of hopping onto your train of thought often means that that person will never leave your thoughts, and Choi Youngjae knows that better than anyone.

Work is his haven of solace, where he can focus on computing the numbers on his screen and his heart can keep itself together without melting into a gooey mess all over his rib cage. Back at his apartment, he has to face the sight of his housemate—a ridiculously beautiful sight, that much is true—, and he gladly would if it wasn't for the effect it had on his heart and his mind.

Im Jaebum is unfair to Youngjae, and he doesn't even have a clue that he is.

It's in his lazy gait, his relaxed exterior. It's in his smile that makes his eyes crinkle into crescents. It's in his bad jokes and blatancy. It's in his quiet caring manner that one can't detect very well under the tough appearance, with the ripped jeans and the multiple piercings. It's in the way that he can't pass a cat without petting it.

It's even in his faults, from his fiery temper to his firmness about right and wrong. It's in the way he's a stickler for respect. It's in the way he leaves his books all over the apartment and the sheepish way that he asks Youngjae if he's seen his fourth Harry Potter book.

It's in the small moments that they share, that they can't keep from sharing, since they're confined to the same small space for quite a significant portion of their time. The small moments that Youngjae's mind has the habit of replaying too many times over, just pulling it back and rewinding every time.

It's in the way he wakes Youngjae up, with shaking progressing from gentle to merciless, a small murmur of “Jae, wake up,” to “Choi, if you don't wake the fuck up right now, I'm eating your breakfast too.”

And this morning is no different.

“You know, I spend so much energy just waking you up every morning, it's surprising that I don't have a six pack yet,” sighs Jaebum with a shove to Youngjae's shoulder.

Youngjae, who's almost awake by now, tries to not think about that. He sleepily attempts to lash an arm out at Jaebum, but it comes off as more of a defeated flap.

“Okay, that's it, I'm done.” Youngjae doesn't realize fast enough when Jaebum slides his arms below Youngjae's knees and neck to pull him clean off the mattress.

With a yelp, Youngjae wraps his arms around Jaebum's neck, eyes snapping open at the shock of being separated from his mattress. Jaebum laughs, and Youngjae can feel the vibrations of his chest, which causes such a wave of emotions in him that he presses his face into the side of Jaebum's neck, only to take an almighty inhale of the scent of Jaebum's soap and realising that he just made his situation worse.

Jaebum's chuckling softly all the way until the living room, where he dumps Youngjae in a not-so-gentle manner on the couch, prompting an annoyed whine from the younger. “You're mean, Im Jaebum.”

Jaebum smirks, and Youngjae's heart combusts a bit inside his chest. “And you're cute, Choi Youngjae.”

Youngjae groans and covers his face with his hands, but his brain is at it again.

Pause. Rewind. Play.

2. A

As Jaebum catches Youngjae's eye for the seventh time in ten minutes, he wonders if the younger knows that he's being that obvious.

It's frankly quite amusing to Jaebum, who is—fortunately or unfortunately—highly observant, and has thereby picked up the indications that point to a very obvious conclusion: His housemate has fallen for him.

Does Jaebum have a problem with that? Absolutely not.

For one, he is the gayest gay to ever gay, so that part of the problem is non-existent. For two, Youngjae is probably his best option, on an absolute scale, not a relative one. Jaebum thinks that he could wait ages, but would still not come across someone as crazily sweet and adorable (the adjectives ought to be in italicized, bold, triple-underlined letters, because that's the amount of emphasis that Jaebum would like to place on that), or someone who was good at advice despite being younger, or someone who was just good company. Youngjae wasn't ideal—then again, no one was—, but his positives definitely outweighed his flaws.

So yeah, Jaebum definitely doesn't mind. In fact, he might just be falling himself, a progression that's causing him to do things that emotionally infuriate Youngjae, like being unnecessarily close or touchy. There are obvious ulterior motives here, because all that is what Jaebum wants too. He likes being close to Youngjae, falling asleep on Youngjae's shoulder when whatever they're watching gets too boring, catching Youngjae's gaze and receiving a guilty smile.

Jaebum would say something himself, but he wants to give Youngjae the moment, and that's annoying him as well, because Youngjae just won't take the prompt, no matter how obvious it is.

Which is ridiculous, because even without the words, Jaebum has figured it all out. When will Youngjae stop acting like this? Unbelievable.

They're up late on a Friday night, celebrating the end of another work week, and like usual, Jaebum falls asleep after the third episode of the TV show that they're making their way through, which currently is Riverdale.

When Jaebum blinks his eyes open, he suffers through the usual sleep-induced confusion stage, registering the identifying factors of his surroundings, like the fact that Youngjae is curled up and tucked into his side, and the fact that Jaebum fell asleep with his cheek resting on Youngjae's head. The laptop has been shut down and the only noises he's hearing are the tinny noises from the game that Youngjae's playing on his phone.

“Oh shit,” swears Jaebum in a mumble that makes it seem like his mouth has been stuffed with cotton. “I fell asleep again, didn't I?”

“Yup,” deadpans Youngjae, with an undertone that suggests that Jaebum might be more than a little stupid if he can't figure that out by himself. “You didn't even stay up long enough to find out who murdered Jason Blossom.”

“Fuck.” Jaebum rubs his eye with his fist and lets the world sink back into focus. “Don't tell me, then.”

“Mhmm,” hums Youngjae absently, focused on his game. “We can watch it over tomorrow afternoon, if you're not planning to fall asleep then.” Youngjae never minded watching something over as long as it was up to his standards, so Jaebum doesn't blink before agreeing.

“Now go sleep, idiot,” chides Youngjae, tearing his eyes away from his phone as the victorious game music plays. “You've barely slept the whole week, and you're causing me to worry.”

“Wouldn't want to do that,” smiles Jaebum playfully as his heart flutters in his chest like a restless bird in reaction to the concern shown. He leans over to press his lips to Youngjae's forehead. “G’night, Jae.”

There's a slight stutter to Youngjae's voice as he returns the words, which is the reason for Jaebum's self-satisfied smile that he wears as he walks to his room.

Now it's just a matter of time.

3. Confession Song

Trust me, Youngjae, Mark had said. It may seem cliché, but it will work, Youngjae, Mark had said. Easy for Mark to say. So easy. If Youngjae had been in the music industry instead of giving up that dream for him accounting degree, he would’ve had it as easy as Mark when the older had asked his fellow producer out (Jinyoung, Youngjae recalls the name to be).

Youngjae stares at the iPod in his hand, the name of the recording (which is 'Um, you should maybe listen to this’), and he wants to die. Did he just write a song to confess to Jaebum? Well, he didn't just do it. He stayed up for three whole nights to finish the whole thing, having to recall all the things he had to do to put together a song (the last time he'd done that was in high school), and recording over and over until his voice resembled ragged ribbons ruffled by the wind.

His hands shake as he places it on the kitchen counter with a pair of earphones. The iPod has been emptied of all tracks except this one, and Youngjae's heart is beating so loud that he can hear the drumming in his ears. He's two seconds away from shoving it into his pocket and disposing of it when he gets the chance, but no. He's put this off for too long.

He stares at the device again, then picks up his backpack and leaves. Jaebum's still in the shower, and Youngjae hadn't been lying completely when he had explained last night that he'd be leaving early for work this morning. He did have an early meeting—maybe not one that warranted leaving that early, but early regardless.

Youngjae spends the entire day feeling like he's walking on glass. He thanks every star of his that he forgot to take his phone with him this morning, because he'd run it down the previous night nervously playing games whenever he needed a break. Now he'd have to wait the whole day until he saw Jaebum and witnessed his reaction.

God, his neural endings feel like they’ve been set on fire, because every sound is making him jump. If Jaebum’s eventual reaction doesn’t kill him, the nerves just might.

=

Jaebum hums a small tune to himself as he takes the steps up to the apartment, a take-out bag hooked in his hand. He got to leave the office early enough today and decided to pick up dinner from Youngjae’s favorite restaurant on the way back, just because.

He’s just unlocked the door and placed the food on the dinner table when Youngjae walks in, tie hanging off his neck with the top button undone, his jet-black bangs a mess over his forehead. He looks like he’s been to hell and back. Jaebum wants to give him a huge hug and a couple forehead kisses and make him smile again.

And now Jaebum wants to punch himself in the face because when did he become so cheesy when it came to Youngjae? Jeez.

Youngjae gives him a odd look when he meets his eyes. It’s one that’s calculating, cautious. Jaebum doesn’t really understand it. “Hey, you,” he smiles. “I take it that work was as usual?”

“Mhmm, yeah,” answers Youngjae, his eyes narrowing by the tiniest fraction, as though trying to analyse Jaebum, pick some damning hint from his expression. Jaebum doesn’t get it. “Did you listen to…?”

A crease forms between Jaebum’s eyebrows. “Listen to what?” He’s confused now. What did he miss?

“I left, uh, you know what, never mind.” Youngjae pinches the bridge of his nose as though regretting all of his life decisions, and suddenly his phone starts ringing from the corner table where it's been connected to the charger.

Youngjae strides across the room to pick it up. “Hello?” Pause. “My folder? Yeah, I left it at work but I'll pick it up tomo—Oh, you have it?” Pause. “You're downstairs? You didn't have to do that!” Pause. “Okay, I'll be down in a minute.”

Jaebum raises his eyebrows, asking for a explanation as Youngjae puts his phone down. “Yugyeom has the files I left at work, and he's downstairs, so I’m going to pick them up.” Jaebum shrugs, and Youngjae walks out the door.

Jaebum wanders to the kitchen to fetch two sets of cutlery when he sees Youngjae's iPod sitting on the edge of the counter, tucked behind the sugar container and almost completely hidden from sight. Jaebum frowns. He's generally the one leaving stuff in all weird places.

He yanks the iPod out of its hiding place and a pair of earphones trails behind it. The screen lights up when Jaebum clicks the power button to see if the device is still functioning, displaying a rather oddly named song.

He stares at the screen for a couple seconds and then bursts out laughing. Youngjae did not. Youngjae did not. Jaebum can't believe him. This must've been what Youngjae had been referring to earlier.

That cheesy, cliché male. Jaebum’s smile turns a little softer as he puts the earphones in and clicks play. Youngjae's blissful singing voice filters through the earphones, and Jaebum can tell right off the bat that this is exactly what he expected. A soft, melodious backing track and lyrics that warmed him from head to toe pronounced in Youngjae's honest and emotional voice.

Jaebum buries his face in his hands because it has turned scarlet and is burning so much that he's pretty sure that he's radiating enough heat to raise the temperature of the entire apartment. The very thought of someone writing a song for him has been unfathomable his entire life and then this? God, Jaebum doesn't even have words to describe his feelings at the moment.

Once the song has ended, there's a pause, like a microphone is being adjusted, then a tentative voice speaks. “Uh, hyung? I'm pretty sure you understand the context of all of that. I am rather obvious, am I not?” A small guilty laugh, and Jaebum grins like an idiot. “But anyway, all of this is a hundred percent really, and I guess that scares me in a way.” A pause. “Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It's just—jeez, I like you so much, okay? I had to say it. If you don't feel the same way, just wrap the earphones around the iPod and leave it where you found it. I'll understand, and you can just forget about all of this. I don't think I'd be able to handle the conversation. Alright.” A beep, and the recording ends.

Jaebum places the iPod back on the counter, contemplating on what reaction to exhibit once Youngjae came back upstairs. Yugyeom tends to talk a lot, so Jaebum knows he still has a couple minutes. He picks up two sets of cutlery and sets them next to the containers of food, sifting through scenarios in his head.

The front door slams just as Jaebum has come up with an elaborate plan to feign ignorance at first, and then drop a reference a little later to fluster Youngjae and successfully let the cat out of the bag.

However, that plan goes to shit as soon as he meets Youngjae's eyes, and a smile ripples across his face—an unbridled force of nature, emotion-heavy and resistant to any attempt to suppress it.

Youngjae narrows his eyes. “What are you smiling for?”

Jaebum presses his lips together, wanting the huge bubble of feelings in his chest to stop trying to come up his throat. “Nothing,” he attempts to shrug nonchalantly.

“You're turning red,” points out Youngjae slowly. He digs his fingernails into his palm. “Are you sick? That's one of two explanations I can think of. Did you listen to—?”

“No,” lies Jaebum, before a waterfall of giggles begins spilling out of his mouth.

“You're a really bad liar,” comments Youngjae with an embarrassed laugh, as Jaebum walks over to him.

“I am, am I not?” grins Jaebum, stopping a couple inches in front of Youngjae.

“Totally,” says Youngjae, placing his hands on either side of Jaebum's smiling face. “Holy fuck, your entire face has gone crimson.” His hands slide down Jaebum's face and neck to finally rest on his chest, Youngjae staring at the fabric of the shirt instead of Jaebum's face.

“Your doing, I believe,” teases Jaebum, wrapping his arms around Youngjae's waist and pulling him closer. “That song was insane. In the best way. Didn't expect you to do that.”

A small embarrassed laugh escapes Youngjae's mouth. “Didn't expect myself to do that either.” His breath catches just the slightest, but then he lets out a relieved sigh, which Jaebum can feel because they are in proximity that close.

And Jaebum can't resist the urge to tease Youngjae a bit. “Honestly, I thought you'd never say anything. I was on the verge of giving up hope and confessing myself.”

“Shut up. I'm an obvious procrastinator, I know,” grumbles Youngjae, a small smile on his lips.

“Oh, you don't say. So obvious that—” Jaebum's words are cut off when Youngjae presses his lips to his in a sharp, sudden kiss, a short one that Jaebum doesn't even properly register until it's over.

“Kindly cease your harping on that,” grins Youngjae, evidently proud of himself.

“I thought I'd have to take first turn,” says Jaebum, looking a little shell-shocked, but very, very pleased.

“You can be the second. And third. And so on and so forth,” says Youngjae, a smidge of shyness creeping into his words.

Jaebum laughs and leans his forehead against Youngjae's. He doesn't say it, but he wants to be Youngjae's last.

4. It Hurts

Nothing is perfect. No task, no option, no situation, no relationship. There is a relative scale of imperfection, from a slight misalignment to survivable to seriously, we can't fix this. The ranking of anything on this scale depended on how the subjects concerned treated it. No more, no less.

Disagreements also have a scale. There's bickering. Then there's plain disagreeing. Then there's arguing. Then there's fighting. Then there are the full-blown fights that rattle the infrastructure of the very relationship, the fight version of an earthquake, negating the surity of the future of the relationship.

One progresses to the other, when neither party manages to call a ceasefire, or makes any attempt at all to stop the snowballing.

Jaebum is a stubborn person. Youngjae, not so much, but the characteristic is simply exhibited to a lesser degree in him, not really non-existent. Fights are inevitable—they always have been—and mostly they find their way around them. But there happens to be one sore topic that they simply cannot see eye to eye on, and that causes all their problems—the future.

Jaebum is always one to plan way ahead, jumping decades ahead to decide outcomes for then. Everything is a long term problem with him. That's just the way he is.

Youngjae, on the other hand, is not that kind of person. Living in the moment is more his thing. Simply living, making decisions in the moment, without worrying about the consequences.

Which is why Jaebum reacts that much when Youngjae can't give him a straight answer on how serious it is, what they have. Is Youngjae a part of his future plans? Because that's what Jaebum wants, though he won't say that out loud because he's not sure of what Youngjae thinks. Whenever he voices the question, Youngjae will tell him to stop overthinking, give him a soft kiss, and tell him to just enjoy what they have in this very moment.

But that's difficult, isn't it? Because what if Jaebum makes all his plans around this boy, only to figure out that what they had was nothing but a fling? Fleeting. Ephemeral. No forever. So he persists, calculating his timing and phrasing, but it all goes to shit every time.

It'll start off with a comment from Jaebum, accidental or otherwise. Youngjae will make his comeback, because when it comes to this he simply cannot resist. Thus begins the downward spiral into a fight, until one of them says that they're tired of it, and they simply stop talking about it, no attempt of resolution made.

Shoving a problem under the carpet is the worst possible way to handle it, so it's no surprise when one day the metaphorical carpet is ripped away and the problem makes its presence known in the ugliest of forms, resulting in one extremely large fight where every negative mental receipt kept comes up, when they stray so far that they forgot where they started.

Jaebum shuts himself in his room—the one he hasn't slept in for ages—and Youngjae goes to his, throwing a set of clothes into his backpack along with his laptop and files from his latest client, and texts Mark once he slams the apartment door behind him, informing the older that he's staying the night with him, because he really needs a break right now.

Then out of spite, with fury burning through his veins, he switches texts to send another few texts.

Jaebum <3

[ last seen one hour ago ]

you believe you asked for an answer<<

here it is<<

we're over<<

He stares at his screen for a few seconds more, until the words blur into ambiguity. He's about to put his phone back into his pocket when it buzzes once.

Jaebum <3

[ online ]

>>best news i've ever heard.

>>have a great life, youngjae.

Jaebum stares at his phone as the ticks next to his message change color to confirm that they have been read, tear after tear trailing down his cheeks.

He got his answer. Now he thinks he could've gone the rest of his life not knowing.

5. Sign

They say the words uttered in anger are the ones you most regret.

They're right, because if there's one thing that Youngjae has been feeling nonstop for the last one week, it's pure, unadulterated regret.

He's been staying with Mark since the fight, and Mark had been nothing but accomodating, and Youngjae tries to repay him the best he can. Mark's boyfriend is sweet as well, babying Youngjae by making him eat second helpings and making sure he doesn't stay up working too late and tire himself of—Youngjae feels like he's found a second mom in Jinyoung. The ache of familiarity that fills his chest when Mark looks at Jinyoung with absolute fondness makes Youngjae realize that it'll take him more than a while to get over Jaebum.

The night of the fight, Youngjae had sat up talking to Mark until three in the morning, verbally contemplating at length about how big a mistake he made and the fact that this is all his fault. Mark is one of the best listeners, and he doesn't have much advice to give, the only thing he had to say being “Well, it all comes down to what will make you happy. It's just that simple.”

What makes him happy? The answer is simple, and he can feel it in his bones, his nerves, his muscles,every time that he goes back to the apartment to fetch something or the other of his, when he knows Jaebum is at work. His subconscious murmurs that he keeps making excuses just to go back there, and he has nothing to say to contradict that.

He misses his home, with its walls painted in pastels, with its sense of disorderly order, like order was attempted to be maintained, emphasis on attempted. He misses his home with Jaebum in it. He misses Jaebum.

If home is where the heart is, then Jaebum is Youngjae's home. Youngjae already knows that he's not going to be moving on anytime soon, that the possibility of him doing that is next to zero, because he doesn't even want to do that. He wishes he could tell Jaebum that, ask for another chance, but he's afraid that Jaebum's pride will prevent him from taking Youngjae back.

Until ten days after the fight, when Youngjae goes back to get a USB drive of his, and he finds a piece of paper taped to his bedroom door.

Jae, I know you've been dropping by. When my books are suddenly straightened and my jacket is not draped over the couch, I know that's your doing. Either that or some other neat freak has been sneaking into my house and I need better security. I'm hoping it isn't the latter.

Anyway, we were stupid to fight, and I can't go on like this. I was so focused on the future to realize what I did have. I'm leaving work early today. Come back home in time for dinner, okay? I miss you.

Youngjae stares at the note and lets the words sink in, smiling as he reads them over a second time. That's all the cue he needs.

6. Never Ever

Youngjae swears at the traffic in front of him. Then he swears at the thought of his boss, who thought it was okay to keep Youngjae late on the one day that be wanted to get out early.

He pauses in front of the apartment door, key frozen next to the lock. He takes a second to smooth down his hair, knowing that he looks like a mess. He just wanted to get that fast enough, and the sensible side of him reminds him that Jaebum anyway does not care how he looks.

He inserts the key into the lock and twists, letting himself in. Jaebum, looking freshly showered in a large hoodie, is by the island countertop of the joint kitchen, emptying a bag of chips into a bowl, an act he pauses once he notices Youngjae.

The air between them hums with a nameless energy, neither good nor bad. It's laced with the slightest bit of acceptance, because they both figured they'd end up back here.

“So I know I fucked up,” starts Jaebum, words slow and disjoint. Huh, just like him to blame things on himself. “And we have issues to discuss.”

“But please, none of that now,” interrupts Youngjae with a soft sigh. Just seeing Jaebum again has triggered in him so many emotions that he can't even begin to separate and analyse each one. “I'm just so tired.”

Tired from working so many nights, just to prevent myself from thinking about you. Tired of running. Tired of being angry. Tired of being away from you.

Jaebum understands that, so he simply holds his arms open so that Youngjae can walk into them. Burying his head into the hollow of Jaebum's neck, Youngjae lets out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. Jaebum smells like cherry soap and minty cologne. He smells familiar and welcoming.

A feeling of relief washes over Youngjae. It feels like he's come home.

“I missed you, Jae,” whispers Jaebum, leaving a kiss on Youngjae crown. “So much.”

“I love you,” blurts out Youngjae suddenly. It's a thought that he'd been meaning to mention for a while—ten days to be exact. Only living without Jaebum made him realize how much he actually cared for Jaebum.

A pause. “You mean that?” The words are laced with suppressed emotion, uncertainty, a plea, a hope.

“Of course I do,” smiles Youngjae, giving Jaebum a little squeeze for emphasis. “And I am going to love you the same in the future.”

“Oh.” Youngjae can hear the smile in Jaebum's voice, in that one syllable. And all their arguments, they’re all solved right there. It’s an admission of defeat, but not a sad one. One that feels more like a treaty, a peace offering. Something that makes both sides happy. “Okay then.”

“That's it?” asks Youngjae, feigning offence. “I tell you all that, and that's how you reply?!”

“A bit… overwhelmed,” admits Jaebum, a little relieved laugh escaping his lips. “But I’m glad I don’t have to let you go. Ever.”

“Never ever?” asks Youngjae.

“Never ever ever,” adds Jaebum, beginning to giggle. It’s contagious, so Youngjae also starts laughing.

“Never ever ever ever?” asks Youngjae between wheezy chuckles. God, he’s so drunk on the feeling of contentment. “This chain is never going to end, is it?”

“It doesn’t have to,” obliges Jaebum, ruffling Youngjae’s hair. “We’ve got all eternity.”

=