loversfevers

you’re not supposed to be here. you’re supposed to be using the bathroom, but somewhere along the hallway, you lost your way so now you’re here, standing before an open door. his bedroom wall is filled with michael jackson posters — and some bands you’ve only seen from your father’s old cassettes.

sitting in the middle of the room is him. he looks a little like riku, but with rounder features and a constellation of moles decorating his honey skin. he’s sitting on the floor, strumming his bass and bopping his head to the tune, tongue poking against his cheek.

you stand there, awestruck. your hand grips on the door frame, attempting to hide yourself behind the wall but he could see you. he looks up, fingers still orchestrating the instrument, eyeing you from head to toe. you feel your skin burn.

“lost?” he speaks, voice nothing like you’ve ever heard before. you think that you’ll remember the sound forever.

“uhm… the bathroom?”

“last door on the left.”

embarrassed, you walk away, his stare at the back of your head going unnoticed.

…

“what’s your brother’s name?”

“hm? haechan.”

“maeda hae—“

“—lee. different dad.”

“lee haechan…”

the bed dips. riku looks at you, propping his elbow onto the bed, lifting himself slightly to get a proper look. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes squinted as he scans you. he’s known you for a while now, able to read your every move.

“yn. are you into my brother?”

your face turns to look at him, just slightly. you’re grateful for the dim lights, perhaps, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. you shake your head.

“no way. i just saw him on my way to the bathroom and was curious.”

you pray he couldn’t see through your lie. he squints his eyes just a little more, for a moment, before resting his head back against the pillows.

“good. he’s a stupid prick.”

you don’t know that. what you know for sure, is that he’s stupidly gorgeous.

…

yn [9:05 AM]: maeda riku i am seriously going to kill you. SERIOUSLY!!!!

rikuri [9:09 AM]: please do NOT i’m sooooo sorry ok!!! yushi needed my help so i had to leave :( pancakes in the microwave love you!

you scoff, tossing the phone to the other side of the bed, sounding a hushed thud. reluctantly, you pick your towel off a chair and make your way to the bathroom, mentally cursing your best friend in your head, planning all the ways you can get back at him. you brush your teeth, back leaned against the wall. you don't notice the door's unlocked until haechan walks in, towel slung over his shoulder.

"what —"

"chill," he mutters, grabbing his toothbrush. there's no urgency in his tone, no shock, as if it's the most mundane thing ever.

haechan brushes, standing close to you, shoulders lightly brushing. he looks into the mirror, meeting your eyes and raising his eyebrow, as if telling you to resume.

and so, you do. a little slower, more flustered than normal.

...

hanging out at riku's become a routine. embedded in your being, you find yourself taking the bus to his neighbourhood after class without thought. his mother claims that you're a maeda now, as you know where the spare keys are, and a designated mug sits in the dishwasher for you.

riku on the other hand, is rarely around. he prefers spending his afternoons at yushi's leaving you alone as you watch an old romcom in his living room.

haechan walks in, wordlessly taking a seat beside you  — it has become a frequent occurence. you think that you see haechan even more than riku lately, the way he'd join you for your binge watches, or when you'd bake cookies with riku. sometimes, he'd leave touches that linger —hand on your back as he passes by, or fingertip brushing against your lips as he makes you try a snack.

it's normal, yet it accelerates your heart rate without fail. you find yourself nervous every time he does as little as looking at you.

"pretty woman."

you turn to him, eyes widened. you? pretty? your hands curl around the hem of your shirt, making sense of it all.

"huh?"

haechan raises his eyebrow, tongue poking against his cheek.

"the name of the movie?"

"oh."

he chuckles, shaking his head before turning his attention back to the tv. right, of course he's talking about the damn julia roberts movie, and not you. you clasp a cushion against your face, embarrassed. he taps on your arm, touch burning through your skin.

"are you going to sungchan's party? the one on friday?"

"sungchan? oh, probably not, was not in —"

" — do you want to come with me?"

there's a minute pause as you turn your head towards him, and he's already looking at you. all the jest in his face is replaced with sincerity as he stares down at you, lip pressed against teeth.

"oh, yeah, of course."

"cool. it's a date then. we can get dinner first."

...

when riku said that his brother's a stupid prick, this must be what he means.

the servers must think you're a pathetic little thing, the way you're sitting at the far-right booth with a watered down iced tea and a melted banana split. haechan's an hour late — and with the way that he's not answering any of your calls, he's probably not coming. so, ashamedly, you grab your bag and leave for home, where you quickly flop onto your bed and weep.

no signs of haechan, at least not up until one in the morning.

yn [1:27 AM]: your brother truly is a PRICK. all caps lock btw. BOLDED. UNDERLINED. TIMES NEW ROMAN SIZE 57 AND CENTERED.

rikuri [1:28 AM]: preach mama rikuri [1:32 AM]: also wat

you're not in the mood to explain, so you shut your phone and sleep, dried tears on your cheeks.

...

it wasn't supposed to last this long.

haechan's had one long day, like it was a karmic debt sent by God which he had to pay in the form of nakamoto yuta and his stupid lies.

"sorry dude, the gig wasn't supposed to last this long. shotaro said they had some sort of technical error," yuta shrugs, shoving his drumsticks into his bag.

haechan glares at him, a full on side-eye as he swings his bass bag over his shoulder.

"you said the gig was supposed to start at 9, but it started at 10. and then you said we were the opener — bro, we were the fucking encore!"

"miscommunication, sorry," the older answers, holding his hands up in surrender.

haechan rolls his eyes, "does anyone have a charger? my phone's fucking dead," he scans the room, grumbling "useless," under his breath when all his band members shake their head, shoving his bass bag into the back of the van.

he bids his goodbye to the members (while scowling, of course), fast-walking to his car when the universe reminds him of whatever karmic debt he had in the form of a flat tire. he bangs his head against the car roof, cussing under his breath.

"i'm taking the fucking van!"

...

you're not at the diner, and you don't seem to be at sungchan's party.

haechan trudges through the crowd, muttering apologies at every bump and spilled alcohol. instead of finding you, he bumps into riku, who’s sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a drink.

“have you seen yn?”

riku blinks, shaking his head. confusion sits in his eyes for a while until realisation hits.

“wait. is this why she texted me saying you’re a fucking prick? what the fuck did you do to my best friend?”

haechan’s tongue pokes against his cheek, running a hand over his face. he grabs riku’s drink, downing it in one go before grabbing his brother's hand. he pulls his brother through the crowd, earning a couple whines from him.

"dude — where the fuck are we going?"

"you're helping me get yn back."

to riku's dismay, the two brothers arrive at your house — standing in your garden as haechan figures a way to get riku into your bedroom. you won't answer calls, nor will you answer the door. so, he eyes the tree looming over your bedroom window and the gears in his head click.

"riku. you're going to climb up this tree and go through her window."

"the hell? who said i'm doing all that?"

"your dearest older brother, of course."

the younger groans, but he makes no more protest as haechan gives him a boost, and so he climbs up the tree, making his way into your window and turning his head back to shoot haechan the middle finger.

you're jolt awake by the sound of riku falling to the floor with a thud. the blanket is pulled over your body as you screech.

"what the fuck?"

"it's me, it's riku!" he yells back, holding his hands up in surrender. "yn, you have to go downstairs, please."

...

someway, somehow, riku manages to convince you to go downstairs.

"in another life, please find a man better than my brother."

you scoff, opening the door to be greeted by haechan, on his knees, staring up at you. full begging posture. riku runs a hand across his face, shaking his head.

"god, i can't watch this," he mumbles, walking away to disappear into your kitchen.

haechan, on the other hand, is still on his knees, hands clasped together in a prayer. it's a rare sight — he always seems so aloof, and cheeky, poking jokes at you any chance he had, leaving remarks that border on platonic and flirty.

you liked it, though. lee haechan on his knees begging.

"i'm so, so sorry," he says, each word emphasised. "i had a whole thing going on with the band. i swear i planned my time so well, it's just — some things happened, with my car, and then my phone died —"

"haechan. get up."

"no, i really am sorry, please don't be mad —"

your cheeks flush as you look around the neighbourhood, seeing the lady that lives across you peeking through her window only amplifies the redness. you pull him up, "please, just get up, i won't be mad anymore."

"you promise?" he finally gets up, staring at you with hopeful eyes.

you sigh, bringing your hand forward to flick him on the forehead.

"don't ever mess up again."

he blinks, wanting to make a comment on how the flick didn't hurt at all, but he bites his tongue.

"so you forgive me?"

"yes."

"you're not mad at me anymore?"

"no."

"so you'll go on a date with me?"

you roll your eyes, but you can't stop the smile that creeps up your cheeks.

"geez, haechan — yes, i'll go on a date with you."

haechan grins, bringing his pinky up to seal the promise, cheekily kissing your pinky.

"is my brother still on his knees? can i come out now?"

...