STARTING LINE

[bambam vc] he can break his neck hey everyone it’s miya again back with... jin haseok [booing ensues] anyways literally absolutely not a single bit has changed about haseok except now he sadly has 2 npc sibs...! :( his father is now just a major surgeon at snu hospital and well known for being part of a church that is arguably a cult that he met his mother through lmao. anyways here’s some of his tidbits for future new members to check out

it feels like a mistake, waking up to haseok being in his room. his forehead is burning, his limbs heavy and his eyelids even heavier, a scratch at the back of his throat that makes it seem like he’ll never be able to swallow again. taehyun’s sure he’s covered in sweat and grime, the sleep shorts he was able to throw on feeling damp with how his fever’s been keeping him too warm. he bound to look as bad as he feels which means there’s no way haseok would be here. haseok is only there when taehyun can give him something, be at his best. a place where he surely isn’t now. 

“haseok?” taehyun gets out, barely above a whisper, as he tries to push himself up to get a clearer look. he’s doesn’t remember getting out of bed to unlock the door for him. “how did-” he cuts off, a cough taking over for a moment before he gets it under control. “when did you get here?” 

he takes a look at the bedside table, realizes he forgot to recap the bottle of cold medicine before drifting off to sleep, his tv playing some drama on a low volume in the background. the pot of stew is a surprise. almost as surprising as seeing haseok in his shithole of an apartment. normally when they… meet up, it’s at haseok’s place or a hotel room or a storage closest or the closest piece of floor they can find or - 

it’s never taehyun’s house. it’s never on his full size bed that’s near falling apart with a view of a water damaged ceiling and neighbors stomping around above him. haseok and his apartment don’t exactly go hand in hand and he had planned to keep it that way. “why are you here?”

haseok blows on a spoonful of the stew, motioning for taehyun to open wide and now he really feels like he must be dreaming. this isn’t normal for them. this isn’t how haseok would act towards him. it feels like a glitch in whatever simulation he’s in, seeing how almost… domestic he’s being. taehyun lets himself relish in it. lets himself share stew with haseok as if it was a normal occurrence, lets himself close his eyes and drift in and out from the low sounds coming from the tv and the smell of the nice cologne haseok always wears, lets himself believe this how they normally are. 

taehyun pouts up at haseok, eyelids drooping without his permission, lets his hand fall with a thud on haseok’s thigh. “no, you can’t leave yet.” he pushes his luck, rests his head on haseok’s shoulder despite it being too bony to be comfortable. draws his fingers up and down slowly against the inseam of haseok’s pants in a way to keep his attention on something other than how sleepy he was becoming. “i bet it hasn’t even been five minutes.” taehyun pauses. pushes his luck once more. “please just stay a while longer.” his voice sounds too small but he hopes it does trick. 

the lull of the universe never recedes. it rings in haseok’s ears just loud enough to remind him he’s still alive, still breathing, still here. a sad reminder — still jin haseok sitting in moon taehyun’s cramped and musty studio apartment that hadn’t seen sunlight for days until haseok had opened the curtains for him. taehyun isn’t in a good state, and normally haseok would take this as an opportunity to drop off some necessities from the convenience store on the first floor and go. 

it would be easy enough to do. taehyun was already mildly delirious and unwell, probably wouldn’t put up any sort of fuss if haseok insisted he would go. judging from how surprised he looks — even in his current state of being and barely even being able to register haseok’s presence — there was no reason to stick around.

really, there isn’t.

“you’re literally dripping in sweat,” what he means is i know your keypad code from all those nights you were so drunk that you forgot i brought you home and never told you, conveniently enough for him; as much as haseok would really actually like to not take on the responsibility of caring for somebody who is unwell off the clock, taehyun is different. haseok reaches for a nearby box of tissues to dab lightly at the male’s forehead. he doesn’t like to elaborate much when taehyun asks him questions, because he knows taehyun loves attention to detail and haseok would rather not try to talk to him when his meds are kicking in (and hopes that taehyun won’t remember this once he’s gotten adequate rest).

everything feels a bit shifted paradoxically. haseok’s own presence in taehyun’s apartment — just the simple idea of it — felt foreign. it had never come true under any other circumstance, and he didn’t want to provide an explanation for why he felt just so compelled to actually come take care of him. haseok would rather slaughter the elephant in the room to keep it silent rather than address it at all. 

he smirks at taehyun’s follow up. “do you want me to leave?” he doesn’t mean it, of course; not now, because there’s a strange feeling manifesting itself in haseok’s chest that feels like a weight anchored to his heart. he tries not to think much into it, but its emotional presence is what has brought him to taehyun’s bedside to perform the act of a character he’d never once played. he tries to tell himself this is all just for the betterment of the male’s health — nothing else. 

it’s subtle, microscopic, but the feeling of taehyun’s palm on haseok’s thigh sends a shiver up his spine. a spoonful of rice positioned before taehyun’s lips is shifted to haseok’s own instead in a feeble attempt to hide... whatever this was affecting him. he chews it in silence in hopes it’ll dimish the goosebumps he feels under his brioni dress shirt, but nothing changes except for the images on the muted television across the room. 

much of the silence reminds haseok that whatever happens here between them will stay here. he tells himself it again and again. they’ve fallen back into it again; haseok looks down at taehyun and knows from his inability to keep himself propped up, nonetheless conscious, that he himself can relax. he exhales through his nose as he watches taehyun’s eyes struggle to stay open, prompting haseok to set the finished dishes aside. “okay,” he declares — but it’s a murmur, because haseok is so ingrained to think that no matter his actions or choice of words that an almighty power is still listening in, judging. “i’ll stay. move over.” 

there's a small bowl of stew that sits atop a woven circular placemat accompanied with a glass of ice water. the condensation has already begun to sweat down the edge, the ice inside melting and making the one slice of lemon sink even lower. everything moves as slow as haseok does, carefully carrying the wooden tray from the kitchen into the male's room.

today calls for no haste. taehyun is under the weather and their saturday is wasted. the weather is as dreary as they are. haseok is setting the tray down at taehyun's bedside with the uttermost care; there's a glimmer of hope in haseok's eyes as he looks down to the male huddled in sheets, he smiles then, leaning down until he swears their noses touch. taehyun had been out for some time with the help of some liquid medicine left uncapped on his night table. the room is filled with silence all except for the light sounds of the male’s breathing masked from his duvet and white noise machine as loud as haseok’s own mind.

“taehyun-ah, wake up,” he mutters then, finally allowing himself to break from the prolonged gaze he’d given the male prior to waking him at the sound of his voice. haseok falls back in step with the haseok that taehyun knows him for — aloof, distanced, complex and simple all at once. he doesn’t smile when taehyun opens his eyes, instead, shifts back to lift the cooled stone pot at its edges to signal it was time to eat. 

only when haseok gets a good look at the dullness of the male’s complexion and the dark circles under his eyes does his exterior soften; something in his chest feels like it’s beginning to thaw.

he refrains from commenting, leaves the empty fake insults for another day. he takes a spoonful of the stew and blows on it first for good measure and carefully bringing it to his lips. it wouldn’t be haseok’s first time feeding something to taehyun, but something about taehyun’s exhaustion and quietness almost leaves haseok feeling like he’s alone. he eats with him in silence, splitting the bowl of rice into two sides for them to share. 

he doesn’t think about the fact they share the same spoon.

there's the time the middle of the three had come home too late once; he'd reeked of ash and burnt wood that haseok knew meant his brother was out with his psycho, lunatic pyro-fucking-maniacs he called his "friends." not that haseok had given a shit when and if his brother ever came home — preferring he stay a missing case in his head for as long as he could without having to remember the second jin child's existence as much as possible. it was the panic in his eyes when he begged the eldest not to tell their parents, that he would hook him up with whatever illicit drug haseok or his other self-absorbed friends wanted when they were drunk and bored.

or there's the sound her spine popping and neck cracking whenever he yanked at the roots of her hair — the clarity that he'd caused her discomfort, confirmed verbally by the pitch of her yelp going so high it feels like she ruptures his eardrums. another reason to hate her even more — she's always so fucking loud about everything. dramatic and over the top, boisterous and migraine inducing, like the time their parents had taken them to australia and haseok had almost drown her in the sydney harbour. their parents had been buying tickets at the box office; haseok was holding his sister with his fingernails digging into her poorly dyed scalp. their middle siblings watched, saying nothing. just as he'd learned from his past mistakes.

or there's the best time — the time when they just didn't exist at all. not to haseok, at least. london always felt like its own separate universe, far away from the unbearable weight of the jin parents' expectations and need for absolute perfection. he didn’t want to be included in their equation, never wanted to. it was never his choice to go to london in the first place, but it was never his choice to leave, either. he never asked for any of them, never asked for the responsibility of being the older brother. 

and he always hated how both of them always had to say it with so much disdain.

Everything shatters. 

“That’s not what happened.” He provides quickly, almost skittish, eyes wide with a vulnerability he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a strangle and inexplicable sensation, the abrupt emptiness he felt. Vertigo, maybe. “That’s not what happened at all. Why the fuck would you say that?” There’d been some higher ground in the words he spoke, a sanctuary he’d lugged himself over into. It was deceptive: the walls felt strong but ended up being unsustainable. “That’s not what fucking happened at all. You’re wrong.” Haseok speaks once and the structure caves. Every single wooden plank shoot inward with splintered ends headfirst into his stomach, gutturally eviscerating him. 

Superseding the makeshift crucifixion is the memory in itself, though. Hamin.

It was hard to explain what Haseok’s younger brother meant to him. Complicated, only because he knew exactly what Hamin meant to him. Hamin had always been like that: an elucidated daydream. The picturesque representation of another path, running adjacent to Sunan’s own reality in his memory, like a gilded outlier. He illuminated the edges of his mind with resplendent thoughts of an indulgent ‘what if’. Thoughts like what if he could be happy and what if he might’ve found someone to feel the same way as he did? Thoughts like that. Thoughts like what if Hamin felt the same way? It’d created a possibility so enticing to him he had blindly chased it into the belly of the beast.

They were in Hamin’s bedroom. Hamin was on top of his lap, Sunan’s hands smoothing themselves over the back of his thighs just to place him. A new eyeshadow palette had launched that day and Sunan was ever the willing model, even though he’d doubted how good the color would look on him. He’d made his insecurity known with fidgeting that kept messing up Hamin as he worked. That was why they ended up in that position: Sunan obviously needed to stay still. Nevermind the unspoken match that’d been struck. Like dynamite between them, the wick lit with a slowly trekking flame. His lips were close. Sunan wants to.

Haseok comes into the room to ask his brother about something his parents had said and Sunan is chased out of the house like a stray dog. 

Everything subsequent to that day was a lesson in relinquishment. Hamin was a dream: impossible. And eventually, it’d gotten easier to stop looking beside himself the further he’d gone with Hansol, stuck in the deep of it like a tarpit.

“Get the fuck away from me.” His voice is low, twisted ominously. The threat is meaningless. Sunan’s hands already lift to push out against Haseok’s chest, shoving him back. “Get the fuck away from me. What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t even fucking know what happened so you just fucking lied. And even then! ―” He’s shoving at the other’s chest again, driving him through the growing crowd. 

“Even fucking then,” shoving more, harder, “what the fuck do you get out of it? Out of saying shit like that? Making shit up like that? That’s your fucking brother, are you serious? Flagellation must have you beating your fucking head in. You’re deranged.” Shoving again. “You’re pathetic.” Again. “You’re worthless. Should I start praying for you, Haseok? Do you think it’ll help?”

high school shouldn’t be called high school — it should be called the fucking jungle, because hannam had done absolutely nothing to teach these kids anything except how to lie, cheat, and to always aim for the jugular. haseok had caught on fairly quickly how to maintain his social life; keeping his head above water was quite simple: never let anybody find a fault about you. always find something wrong with them. deflect, deflect, deflect. a herd of sheep don't take the time to think about who it is that actually scares them.

first, his throat. next, his knees. 

it doesn't take long to get sunan cowering before him again, both in stature and mentally. he is livestock that haseok is ready to pounce on and devour into oblivion. the look in his eyes and the words he lulls over only fills haseok's chest with the need for more. more fear. control.

"that’s not what happened," he sing-songs, echoes, and something wicked happens in his mind. he's smirking, his tongue dug deep into his cheek and eyes rolling as sunan stumbles over his words of denial. he gives the male no sympathy for the unwarranted spotlight he's put on them. instead, haseok basks in it himself. he readies his sharpest tool, his tongue, and almost wishes that sunan could've put up a better fight — or any fight at all.

"you showed up at my house, my fucking family's house," haseok begins his side of the story then, and although not careful with his vocabulary, speaks in a compelling and accusatory manner to paint the male in a light that he intended to annihilate. if haseok was the shepherd, sunan would be the social sacrifice of the evening, or perhaps the rest of eternity. "locked yourself in my brother's room. you know what's fucking weird about that, sunan? try the fact that —"

his words get cut off when sunan's hands are shoved against his chest. haseok's back hits the wall hard enough to wind him momentarily, enough to shake him from his thoughts and widen his eyes at the shorter male before him. he stares him down, cracking his neck to the right before taking a single deep breath.

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     being nice… a rather challenging task for lee insu, the son of an arguably— immoral… politician. perhaps, it runs in the family like it does in the bloodstreams of those who resemble too closely to those morals, aligned so imperfectly that it becomes a welded flaw. burn marks etched across a blank canvas, charcoal dragging across the white panel, drastically staining it. and his finger is scrapping against it, letting the remnants of disaster soak into his flesh, fingertip grazing the rugged surface and for a moment, just a split moment, he felt at ease. 

     but this ease, this feeling— it doesn’t last long. it lingers for a moment before it dissolves right at his fingertips. it doesn’t last long, a second longer and he would feel it burning into his bleached bones. that was what being nice felt like, as if he were dying. so, he puts on an act, lets the mask be plastered against his features a little too thick that it begins to assimilate into his own skin. he morphs, not into the soldier his mother had raised him to be, but into the monster his mother dreaded, the one that resembled too much of his own father. and as haseok spoke his protests, dulled hues remain on the other. “batshit crazy? of course not.” a simple shake of his head, downturn lips accompany the gesture, “i’m insane, i’m not batshit crazy.” a subtle shrug of his shoulders.

     insanity runs in the family, runs in the bloodstreams of the lees, more prominently in his own. head tilting, “am i hearing a no? are you sure that’s what you want to do?” his rolls his shoulders back, allowing the strain to relieve for a moment, he has barely had any sleep as of late. shoulders sore from the discomfort of sleeping at the nearest lawn chair strewn about the resort, and he feels the ache lining his neck. “you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” the smirk on his features growing, lips tugging upwardly, “as long as you do a good job, no one’s gotta know. don’t fuck it up and make it obvious, that’s your only concern.” tone, as if too casual, too cordial for the circumstances. insane? absolutely. 

it takes haseok a good while to look at insu and find the gull to swallow. hard. a familiar face that once had been one of understanding and solace was like looking in a broken mirror; things had become so vastly distorted between the two of them that neither stood the men they once were. you'd think that war would've been what could've torn them apart: even worse. life happened.

puberty came and swept them up like an overturned bird's nest. maybe they'd fallen out prematurely and filled their bodies with too many illicit drugs and alcohol to rot their brains even earlier in life (it would all turn them against each other at some point in life, obviously). if enlisting in the military wouldn't be the way to kill one of them off, certainly the social pressure would kill them both before they could manage getting to each other.

except that haseok was still foggy about when things changed, but it wasn't his responsibility nor in his interest to ask questions. if the universe was begging the question of what the results of putting lee insu and jin haseok into a room together almost a decade after graduating high school on raw terms, then it would be tonight that it would get its answer. soon — but not just yet.

"didn't know there was a difference," haseok responds nonchalantly; regardless of how the male would define it, it wasn't a thought that would've crossed haseok's mind to do. a thought comes and goes regarding if insu has already been fucking with the provided drinks. there's not much to his emotion that changes when insu is trying to show him up. he feels like he's been here before. haseok thinks he looks like absolute shit, an appropriate look for his ensemble clearly speaking for him on his behalf. insu couldn't have even been bothered to show up with a versace belt to look put together. haseok inwardly cringes. 

click, flash. then the night-black dark swallows them back down. but there’s enough moonlight to illuminate a conversation. she can still see him. the camera whirs as it gives birth to a white-faced baby polaroid. sabrina chortles at the look on haseok’s face. maybe she can’t see well enough, but she thinks he looks like a child. shiny new toy held far from reach, not that he ever extended his arm far enough.

but she’s not a dweller, not a grudge-holder. and they’re on a beautiful tropical alice-in-wonderland island where nothing exists. they don’t matter here. and no one’s around to see anything and make it real. so, she crosses the small space between them as if she’s walking into their white picket fence. returns his toy to him, puts herself back in his hands as if he deserves her. 

if sabrina was any sort of disaster, haseok would say she would certainly be the world's most beautiful one. maybe not even a natural disaster — just his own. it's the words that come from her mouth to the actions dictated by those running gag reel thoughts haseok wonders run in her head just as they do in his.

his calm before her storm. her calm before his storm. catastrophic, inevitable once it's there with you. once she's there, rooted deep in the reasoning of his every choice that mankind was blessed to have. it's the beauty of the privilege to be on the same planet at the same time as her — he wonders if he'd been a better person in a past life that led his soul to find its way back to her in this one.

she is a frenzy — it's just her nature. the night is too dark around them but haseok knows her silhouette enough to see exactly what she's doing, how she's fitting herself right into the seat she's unanimously claimed hers right over his hips. all he can find focus on is the stick of the lollipop hanging from her mouth; she's giving him that disappointed look again that leaves him smitten in his tracks. he doesn't even realize he's pouting until she prompts him out of his stoicness, his muscles relaxing and curls his lips into a smile just as she is pressing her lips to his. the way he reaches a hand to grasp for a gentle fist of her hair — it’s natural now.

there is nothing else like kissing sabrina. she is delicate in his hands like she's made of sand, if he holds just a little too tight than necessary — she'll slip away. haseok wants to hold her longer, bask in the sensation of his lips against her lips, still wet from the lollipop's subdued taste. she doesn't let it last long enough, but only with a hint of disappointment does he let her pull away.

he's watching her in slow motion. it's a fantasy no man could ever deny not wanting to witness it with his own eyes — it couldn't have even happened in his dreams even if haseok tried. it was the hurricane sabrina brought with her, this time, it was a storm that haseok hoped would stay awhile. he's watching her with fierce intensity, eyes glued to the arch of her back as she reaches her arms to pull the string from her top. he says nothing in the moment, lets her do what she needs to. he doesn't even need sabrina to tell him to take a photograph, it's a given. and while haseok would never erase this moment from any corner of his memory, he certainly wasn't going to go without giving her the uttermost amount of attention for it. 

there's a consideration that he might just possibly worship her to the mildest degree. 

timeline

completed kindergarten in korea (all in english), is sent to live with his aunt and uncle who live in london for elementary — middle school (2001-2010)

forced to return to korea for high school in 2011 (hannam class of 2014)

starts off a bit cold, distant with other kids because he’s got a gyopo accent/doesn’t want to be viewed as the ‘foreigner’ & is being forced against his will to even be there. doesn’t discuss his grades with anyone, becomes well known for never attending group projects. still manages to get good marks

becomes a cool kid fairly quickly, starts getting himself involved with underage smoking & drinking but in the classy too rich for his own good sorta way; starts sorta a closeted fwb thing?? with @chrtaehyun which really is a major catalyst for his present day gay crisis

gets into seoul national university (snu class of 2018)

cheats on his exam to get into medical school, rumors begin to surface that he cheats (someone tries to expose him — rose?) so he frames/blames it on someone else who scored above him so they lose their spot and he gets into the program with little blood on his hands

also got engaged to @chrsab in 2018 but will he ever truly pop the question? stay tuned

completing his residency (ending in 2022)

family related stuff

terribly dysfunctional relationships w/ both his younger siblings: cannot stand @chrhayoung because they’ve never gotten along and she knows his weakest points. and then there’s @chrhamin who is p much just a lost cause and embarrassment to himself and their family in his eyes tbh

sees himself as the only ‘valuable’ jin child, the other two were probably just their parents fucking up too much without using protection lmfao

poster boy for their family pr shit, always attends events just to take photos with old family friends and then go find a corner to sit in and drink alone probably

xtra

doesn’t really have any life dreams: he feels like anything he would’ve aspired to be was destroyed when he was ripped away from his life in london and has no way of ever getting that back so he just goes along with whatever his parents want him to do/be

comes from a really religious background but currently struggling w/ it because of shit with taehyun and also just using his engagement with sabrina to do whatever

has a taste for anything fancy and won’t settle for less. also has to do things in a very refined manner (ex. you always have to break your bread before you put butter on it sorta thing, always gets all of his clothes pressed and dry cleaned)

was a b*lly in high school :( his biggest target being @sunanchr because he thought he looked gay and was really just insecure about his own sexuality and lacked the sense of belonging so sunan was the perfect way to take out his issues on someone else<3

the power that taehyun has over haseok is addicting to say the least. when it comes to their everyday interactions, taehyun always felt nothing but powerless to the other man. he would do anything for haseok; if he asked for the moon he’d figure out how to get it for him. and it wasn’t like that was second nature to taehyun. sure, he was pretty kind and caring, but this? this desire to please haseok? to give him whatever he asked for on a silver platter? this was devotion. a hunger, a need to make sure that haseok knew just how serious he was. 

he knows it doesn’t do much and yet he still can’t stop himself from doing everything he could for haseok. taehyun knows that he probably doesn’t even notice the extra effort he puts in. but here, now, with his shirt laying in the sand and haseok’s eyes peering into the very depths of his being, he knows how haseok must feel. taehyun can feel the excitement coursing through his veins every time haseok says a single word, looks at him in any way. the air around them is electric. always has been, always will be. 

taehyun can’t help but smile a true and genuine smile when he sees the way moonlight falls across haseok’s face. he’s beautiful. 

“you’re beautiful,” he says as much under his breath, sound swallowed up by the waves. playing like a playboy is fun but showing haseok his truer side, the side that yearns for him, there’s nothing more freeing.