Of Blankets and Kimchi Stew

Sensitive content: implied previous domestic abuse

--

It was supposed to just be a movie night.

“You need to get out of the house," his roommate, Taeyang, had said. “Seojin and I were going to watch a couple of old rom-coms. I’m sure he’d love to see you tag along.”

Jiho had scowled at him. “I don’t want to crash a date night with you and your new boyfriend.”

But Taeyang had insisted, and even though Jiho wasn’t overly fond of movies in general, he couldn’t find an excuse good enough to get out of it.

He’d spent the whole day nervous enough to give himself a stomach ache. He didn’t know Seojin very well yet, but he’d met him enough times to know he was capital-i Intimidating. His eyes were always sharp despite the bags that were almost a permanent fixture, and he hardly ever said a word. To Jiho, he seemed one wrong word away from snapping and yelling about anything.

Taeyang tried to explain to him over and over that he wasn’t dangerous; he was just a music producer working for a company that had him constantly over-stressed and exhausted. It wasn’t enough to keep Jiho from feeling like he had to be on his best behavior in front of him.

Truth be told, it wasn’t just Seojin that intimidated Jiho. It was the relationship in general. He knew his and Taeyang’s friendship was… different, to say the least. They didn’t really act like normal best friends. Taeyang was touchy, and he loved to baby Jiho and call him pet names and take care of him. Jiho followed him around like a lost puppy whenever he could, and though he was capable of being independent, he really did crave the attention and love Taeyang had for him.

It had never been a romantic thing for either of them. If it was anything outside of platonic, it would be closer to that of a parent and their kid, despite only a two year age gap.

Jiho wasn’t stupid. He knew how it must have looked to anyone outside of their home, including Seojin. He could only imagine how weirded out he would be if he ever saw how much Jiho relied on Taeyang, and how much Taeyang allowed it to happen. Would he think Taeyang was cheating on him? Would he think Jiho wanted Taeyang like that?

He’d never been in a serious relationship himself, so probably, he shouldn’t be thinking about them like he knew exactly what was going on in their heads. Still, he’d watched his parents enough while he was growing up to understand: romance came with walking on eggshells, and being careful about what you say and do. It was ticking time bombs of screaming fury and watching each other’s every move to determine how to act.

Taeyang really liked Seojin. He saw it in the way his eyes lit up when he talked about him, the soft smile when they were texting or on the phone, and the way he walked on air when he was getting ready to spend time with him. Jiho would never forgive himself if he ruined this for him. When he ruined it. If it meant hiding from Seojin until the day Taeyang finally decided to throw his whole life into that (obviously) much more important relationship and leave Jiho behind, then so be it.

He was good at enduring loneliness. He could do it again for Taeyang’s happiness.

And yet.

Jiho shivered and wrapped his coat tighter around himself as he got out of the car, into the biting cold of the parking garage. The fancy parking garage, tucked in the basement of Seojin’s luxury penthouse apartment provided to him by the company he worked for. Taeyang’s dinky, beat-up sedan felt out of place among the expensive sports cars and coupes, and yet so natural next to Seojin’s deep red convertible.

“Ugh, thank God Jinnie let us use one of his parking spots,” Taeyang groaned as he shut his door. “I do not want to brush snow off of my car at two a.m.”

“It’s just a little flurry,” Jiho replied. He glanced up the tunnel they’d come down as if he could see the snow from here. “I doubt you’d have even needed the ice scraper.”

He wrinkled his nose in response. “Still would have sucked after the temperature drops.”

Taeyang lead Jiho to the elevator tucked in the corner, and he hit the button for the top floor. When they started to move, Jiho’s stomach did a little flip. He swallowed thickly.

A hand rested on the nape of his neck. “You okay?” Taeyang asked.

Jiho nodded, plastering a smile on his face. He kept his eyes on the numbers that were ticking up. “Just… A little nervous.”

Taeyang let out a soft, fond laugh. “Aigoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, bug. It’s just me and Seojin.”

That’s exactly the problem, Jiho wanted to say, but he just bit his tongue and nodded instead. He pictured the three of them sitting together on one couch. The floor would probably be more comfortable for him.

“He got some take out for us,” Taeyang continued. “He wanted to order from somewhere expensive, but I told him about that convenience store on the corner that has the kimchi stew you like. He whined about it, but I think he listened.”

Jiho couldn’t keep the startled laugh down. “He whined?”

“Well… 'Complained' might be a better word.” He smiled and winked. “I think he’s trying to impress you.”

Me?

Before he could question it, the elevator chimed and opened to a short hallway with one single door at the end. Taeyang beamed and guided Jiho forward.

“Come on; I bet he’s eager to see us!”

Jiho’s stomach swirled again, but he followed without complaint. It would only be a few hours until he could go home and hide again.

--

Jiho needed to learn to keep his mouth— and thoughts –shut.

They’d been halfway through their second movie of the night when the howling winds outside grew loud enough to hear over the fancy sound system in the living room. At first, they’d thought it was just the wind being stronger because they were so high up. Nothing to worry over. Then, Seojin got up to refill his plate and happened to glance through the curtains out of the plate-glass window…

That had been an hour ago, and the freak blizzard was still rolling strong.

“It’s coming down too thick,” Seojin sighed with a click of his tongue. He turned away from the windows again, looking between Jiho and Taeyang. “I don’t think you should drive home tonight. It’s too dangerous.”

Jiho’s stomach was in his throat. He sat alone on the loveseat, half-eaten kimchi stew going cold in his lap. Every muscle in his body had gone still as the realization of the situation sunk in.

Taeyang sighed, frustrated. He was hunched over on the couch, elbows on his knees as he stared at the weather report on his phone. “I don’t understand. The forecast was clear before we got here.”

“That was hours ago, Tae. You know how the weather gets this time of year.” Seojin walked over and stood behind the couch. He reached over to rub Taeyang’s shoulders. “Look, I’m sure it’ll clear up by morning. You two can spend the night here.”

Jiho’s head started to spin.

“But I have a shift at eight,” Taeyang whined, completely oblivious to the storm swirling in his best friend’s mind now, too. He leaned back against the back of the couch until he was resting against Seojin’s chest, and he looked up at him with a pout. “And we didn’t bring anything to sleep in.”

Seojin laughed softly and leaned down to peck his lips. “I’ll pay someone to drive you tomorrow if it’s still snowing. In the meantime, I have plenty of things to share.”

The two giggled and continued to quietly flirt, oblivious to how Jiho was staring at the curtains like they were miles away. His head had been somewhat foggy all night so far, but now, it felt like the room was tilting. His heart thudded in his chest, and he felt himself shivering.

'Too dangerous' and 'plenty to share' played back and forth in his mind like a radio tuned just between two stations. He was stuck here tonight, in an unfamiliar place owned by someone he hardly knew, and forced to be in the way of whatever romance his best friend wanted to do tonight. Would Taeyang be mad at him for agreeing to come along, now that they could’ve had a night to themselves?

His stomach rolled at the thought, and a shudder wracked his frame.

“Oh, bug, are you cold?”

Jiho blinked and looked up, startling when he saw two concerned pairs of eyes staring right back at him. “H-Huh?”

Taeyang clicked his tongue and pulled away from Seojin’s arms; he slid off of the couch to move to the loveseat. As soon as he settled next to him, he pulled him into his chest and held him tight.

“Aigoo,” he cooed, “You’re shivering. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’ll get a blanket,” Seojin stated.

As he turned and left down the hallway, Taeyang studied Jiho’s face with a furrowed brow. It made him want to shrivel up and disappear between the cushions, or open his brain and let him see every thought inside his head. Before he could do either, Taeyang lifted a hand and cupped his face.

He opened his mouth to say something, but—

“I’m sorry,” Jiho blurted.

Taeyang blinked and frowned. He tilted his head like a confused puppy. “Sorry? For what?”

Jiho felt his face growing hot. “You and Seojin could have had a better night,” he said. “I should have stayed home.”

Taeyang’s expression softened. It was in the same sort of way it did when Jiho talked about his parents and childhood, but he couldn’t figure out why.

Before either of them could say anything else, the sound of footsteps drew near. Jiho yanked himself away from all of Taeyang’s touches like he’d been burnt, before Seojin could see.

“Oh,” Taeyang muttered, “Jiho, you—”

“Here.”

Seojin rounded the loveseat, oblivious to whatever was going on. There was a fluffy red blanket in his arms, one that looked worn from years of use. He unfolded it and draped it over Jiho, tucking it around his shoulders and under his chin.

“There we go,” he murmured. “Tell me if you’re still too cold, okay?”

Jiho, stunned by the care that went into that gesture, could only nod. Seojin smiled at him; not quite the same way he smiled at Taeyang, but similar.

“Jiho,” Taeyang said seriously. “Seojin knows you’re not a threat.”

Both Jiho and Seojin looked at him, confused. Taeyang just put on a gentle smile.

“That’s what you’re so worked up about, isn’t it?” he asked. “You think he’s going to be jealous that I love you.”

Jiho stared at him. A slow realization dawned through his foggy mind. How did Taeyang always figure out what he was feeling before he did?

Frowning, Seojin looked at Jiho. He crouched in front of him. “Ah, kid… That thought’s never even crossed my mind. What would I have to be jealous of? You’re his best friend, and I’m his partner. Those are two way different things.”

Best friend.

Jiho looked at Taeyang with stinging eyes. “I am?”

Taeyang got that look on his face again. He re-cupped his face and smiled. “Of course you are. There’s no one else I’d pick to live with me. You keep me from going crazy.”

“But…” He swallowed thickly, trying to rid the lump from his throat. It stung. “What about when it gets serious? Won’t you want to move in together… without me?”

“Aigoo, no!”

“No, Jiho.”

Jiho snapped his head to look at Seojin, eyes wide. In return, he put a hand on his knee.

“Taeyang wouldn’t agree to date me until he was sure I understood that the two of you are a package deal,” he explained. “Even if he hadn’t, I knew from the start how close you two are. I couldn’t break that up.”

“B-But you like him,” Jiho shot towards Taeyang, a little desperate.

“I do.” He rubbed the nape of Jiho’s neck. “That doesn’t mean I’m getting rid of the space I have for you.”

“But—”

“Hey, enough,” Taeyang shushed. “I’m not leaving you behind, ever. Not until you tell me to.” A twinkle formed in his eye. “And even then, you might have to tie me to the back of a train to get me to go.”

That got a tiny little smile out of Jiho. A relief passed over Taeyang’s face.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Taeyang beamed and yanked him close, holding him tight, and Jiho pulled his arms out from the blanket to hug him back. Warmth seeped into his chilled bones, accompanied by the smell of his cheap sandalwood cologne and the stew broth he’d spilled on his shirt earlier. This would always be his favorite place in the world.

Taeyang pulled back enough to kiss Jiho’s forehead… and then he paused. A little frown formed on his face, and he pressed his lips back to his forehead again. He left them there for a moment this time. When he pulled back, he flipped one of his hands around to feel his cheek with the back of it.

“…You’re warm,” he murmured. “Sweetheart, are you feeling okay?”

Jiho just blinked at him. He thought about all of the things he’d passed off as nerves today: the upset stomach, the shivering, the fogginess… He was realizing now that underneath it all, there had been a layer of malaise, and a fatigue he couldn’t quite shake.

“I thought I was,” he mumbled honestly.

Another hand was in his field of vision as Seojin felt his forehead, too. “Aigoo, yeah. That feels like a fever.”

“I’m sorry,” Jiho automatically said.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Seojin smoothed his bangs back. “I’m just sorry you can’t get home now.”

“We’ll have to file a complaint with the clouds tomorrow,” Taeyang teased.

Seojin shot him a look that was akin to a mother towards her unruly child. It shifted back to something more caring when he looked at Jiho. “We’ll do our best to make you comfortable here, still. I’ve got a lot of things, and if there’s anything else you need, there’s a convenience store a couple of blocks away. I can go if you need.”

“Um, not in this weather, you’re not,” Taeyang immediately responded. “You’ve got top of the line things here. We can make do.”

“Yeah, but if he needs it—”

“I don’t want both of you to get sick tonight.”

“Aish, Tae…”

As the two began to bicker, Jiho pulled the warm blanket tighter around him. He shifted to lay his head against Taeyang’s shoulder. Seojin glanced at him, and he bit back the urge to jolt away. Instead, he forced himself to relax and melt into him, like he would if they were at home.

He was safe. They were safe. And things were going to be okay.