Chapter Text
When Changbin was seven, he had woken up in the middle of the night, crying out for his parents. He had sobbed and sobbed as his mother rocked him in her arms, begging her not to leave him. Telling her over and over again that he would be a good boy, that he would never misbehave again if only she wouldn’t make him go. “Changbin, my love,” she had reassured him softly, “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Every night for months he would wake from the same nightmare in a panic, unable to remember any of the dream’s contents aside from a voice, its biting tone seared into his mind. A voice that told him he wasn’t good enough, that he had failed, that he was meant to be alone. A voice that night after night chipped away at the mirror of his self-image until it cracked, leaving him lost, unmoored from anything he had once held to be true.
After many sleepless nights, he grew accustomed to the nightmare, accepted it as something unchanging. Changbin was, at his core, he decided–in the black-and-white absolution of thought native to children–a bad person. Changbin would hurt those he loved, therefore Changbin wasn’t worthy of being loved, therefore Changbin would always be alone in life. As he grew older, of course, his view of the world—and himself—became more nuanced, but still the simple logic devised by his seven-year-old self weighed heavy on his psyche.
Changbin had divulged this secret to only one person in his life: his childhood best friend, Wooyoung. He had whispered his golden line in Wooyoung’s ear at a sleepover, desperate for some reprieve from the ever-mounting pressure of waiting for his own fated demise. He wasn’t sure what reaction he had hoped for—maybe some reassurance that he wasn’t ontologically evil, or perhaps he had selfishly wished that his friend’s own golden line was just as bad. And to Wooyoung’s credit, he had tried very hard to convince Changbin that that one sentence, those eleven terrible words, didn’t mean he was cursed to endure a life of tragic misery. But Changbin had seen his face when he told him, and he couldn’t forget the pity in his eyes, which had cut him deeper than his friend’s paltry reassurances could ever remedy. And so he resolved that he would never tell anybody ever again, and would instead hold the hurt inside himself, keeping the pot from boiling over by force of sheer willpower. And up until now, he had been largely successful.
Forget it. You’re not who I thought you were at all.
Time seemed to stand still. Seungmin’s look of betrayal was burned onto Changbin’s retinas, his afterimage hanging in the air where he had been standing just moments before. Changbin struggled to make sense of what had just happened, synapses firing in slow motion as his shell-shocked mind grasped at empty space. Wisps of understanding began to coalesce around a singularity of an idea, whirling more quickly now, flowing down down down towards the light of realization and Changbin’s eyes were flying wide open and he was choking on his breath because oh.
Oh.
Changbin was the world’s greatest fool.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groaned in anguish, burying his face in his hands. A montage of the past few months played in his head, Seungmin’s voice asking him over and over “why don’t you know?” and all at once, Changbin finally understood.
What Seungmin had been asking was “why don’t you know that I’m your soulmate?”
Changbin laughed out loud. It was morbidly funny, he had to admit. That he had been right all along, that his entire existence was truly some cruel joke played by the universe. That he had finally found his soulmate, only to lose him in the same breath. Because he was insanely unlucky, maybe. Because he was inherently bad, probably. Because he was incurably stupid, certainly. Maybe the Protestants were onto something with their whole pre-determination schtick.
Changbin was still in a state of shock when Felix cracked open the door, poking his head in, his face immediately breaking into a look of concern. “Hey buddy,” he said carefully, drawing out the vowels, “you doing okay in here?” He stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him.
Changbin made a sound that was probably meant to be a word but that came out halfway between a laugh and a sob, which only served to deepen the furrow between Felix’s eyebrows.
Felix sat down on the bed next to him, leaning his head onto Changbin’s shoulder. “I saw Seungmin leave,” he said into the space in front of them. “He looked…upset. Care to talk about it?”
Changbin chuckled ruefully. “Sure, what the hell?” He couldn’t fathom how he could possibly make the situation worse than it already was, so there was no point in avoiding things anymore. He told Felix everything.
“I would say I’m surprised,” he said after he’d finished, “but considering my track record of fucking things up, that would be a lie.” He barked another manic laugh, his brain fried beyond any semblance of appropriate emotional expression.
Felix was silent for a while. Then, he stood, taking Changbin by the shoulders. “Changbin,” he said sharply, “I’m about to be really mean to you, which I am sorry for, but it’s because I love you.”
Changbin nodded warily, unsure where his friend was going with this but also unable to find it in himself to care.
Felix gathered himself, as if preparing for battle. “You need to stop being such a little bitch.”
Changbin’s mouth dropped open.
“You are not cursed by the universe, Seo Changbin. You’re not that fucking special, first of all. You need to get out of your goddamn head and be serious for one single second. ‘Wah wah I’m basically the antichrist’ you sound fucking insane, Changbin! And this whole woe-is-me routine is getting real fucking old too. Do know how tiring it gets to constantly have to convince you that you’re actually, in fact, worthy of love? That we all love you?” He paused for breath, not losing any steam as he continued the onslaught:
“Believe it or not, you’re actually pretty fucking sick, Changbin. You’re dependable, you’re funny, you’re always willing to help others. You don’t complain when Hyunjin makes ridiculous demands, and you’re the only one who will sit through the Minsung origin story every time Jisung tells it without complaining. You’re one of the best people I know, actually, and it frankly pisses me the fuck off that you refuse to see that. So this is me making you see that.”
He squeezed Changbin’s shoulders lightly, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’re right about one thing though, Binnie. You’re dumb as fuck. Because I cannot think of a single other reason you’re still sitting here and not hauling ass after Seungmin.”
“I already ruined things with him,” Changbin finally found his voice.
“Changbin,” Felix tightened his hold on Changbin’s shoulders, giving him a less-than-gentle shake. “Is that boy your soulmate?”
“Well, yes but-” Changbin answered hesitantly.
Felix cut him off. “Do you love him?”
“Yes,” he said, with a decisiveness that surprised them both. Changbin’s eyes widened.
“I’m going to say this one time,” Felix said slowly, “things are not over between the two of you. Not until you’ve tried everything. Which you have not. So you need to go after him.”
“Go after him,” Changbin echoed, a plan already forming in his mind.
“Now, Changbin!”
Changbin sprang up from the bed. “I’m going after him!” he shouted, bolting for the door and all but ripping it off its hinges as he rushed to open it. He barely had time to blurt out a thank you to Felix before he was tearing down the hallway, Felix’s cheer of “go get ‘em, tiger” fading in his wake.
Changbin raced down the stairs, ignoring the confused looks thrown his way. He exited through the front door, not even bothering to close it behind him as he sprinted down the driveway and into the street. His shoes slapped the pavement as his legs carried him toward campus, his body automatically leading him down the route he knew Seungmin was most likely to have taken. It was well past three in the morning at that point, and the streets were almost empty as the last of the party-goers staggered home after the night’s festivities. Changbin had almost made it to campus before he saw the lone figure illuminated by the flickering streetlight, walking slightly hunched, hands shoved in his pockets. Finally, Changbin slowed his pace, gasping for breath.
“Kim Seungmin!” he yelled. The figure paused for a second, and then kept walking, not turning back.
“Seungmin!” he yelled again. Seungmin walked faster.
“Seungmin, please,” he begged, “I know!” At this, Seungmin finally stopped. “I know now,” Changbin’s voice broke, “please turn around.”
By now, Changbin had caught up to Seungmin, and he reached out an arm tentatively, grasping at the air behind Seungmin’s back, unwilling to reach further so as not to scare Seungmin off. When Seungmin finally turned around, his eyes were red and puffy, and there were visible tear tracks staining his flushed cheeks. The weight of knowing that he was the cause of the pain written all over the younger boy’s face tightened around Changbin’s heart like a vice.
Seungmin said nothing, but he didn’t turn away, which Changbin took as an invitation to explain himself. “I want to start by saying that I really didn’t know what you were talking about,” he began, “which I know was really dumb of me, and in hindsight I should’ve picked up on that right away, but I’m a little slow, okay?” He attempted a smile, but he didn’t miss the way Seungmin’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, “let me be clear. Kim Seungmin, you are my soulmate.”
Seungmin’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, and for the first time in a long time, Changbin felt sure of himself.
“I swear I didn’t know before, but when we fought back there, you said my golden line and, well, here we are now.”
“Your golden line?” Seungmin spoke slowly and deliberately.
Changbin grimaced. “Yeah, it wasn’t ideal.”
“Changbin…” there was a note of concern in Seungmin’s voice, but Changbin pressed on.
“Look, I know it isn’t pretty. I spent my whole life dreading this moment, because I thought it meant that I was, I dont know,” he paused to gather his thoughts, “undeserving of love, I guess. And maybe I am. Maybe I already fucked up every chance I had with you, and you’re gonna tell me to fuck off. And that’s fine, if that’s how you feel, I get it. But I owe it to us both to try.” He took a deep breath, the words flowing out of him fresh as the springtime air, “Because I love you, Seungmin, I loved you from the moment I saw you in your dorm, worried about eyeliner, I loved you before I knew you were my soulmate, I loved you when you left me in my room twenty minutes ago, and I love you right now. Still. More, maybe.” He was trying desperately, though unsuccessfully, to parse a single piece of meaning from the storm of emotion that raged across Seungmin’s face. He sighed, gathering the last of his resolve into a final proposition: “I guess my point is that I realize things are pretty fucked up between us, but I don’t want this to be the end, so, even if I don’t deserve it, I’m standing here, begging you for a second chance. If you’ll take me.” He let the last words fall into the gap between them, an offering that represented his own beating heart, raw, held out in the blind hope that Seungmin would accept it.
“And the bet?” Seungmin asked, wary.
Changbin almost laughed out loud. “That was just a stupid thing Minho and I talked about at the beginning of the semester. He bet me that I’d meet my soulmate before graduation, I was sure I wouldn’t. Except it looks like he won, because here we are.”
For the first time, a small smile appeared on Seungmin’s face. “Here we are,” he echoed. Then his smile widened. “You love me?” his voice was small, but Changbin could feel the warmth radiating into each word.
“With every cell in my body.”
In a heartbeat, Seungmin closed the distance between them, and the darkness in Changbin’s head exploded into light. Seungmin kissed him feverishly, desperately, like he had nothing and everything to lose. And Changbin couldn’t help but feel, though there had been hundreds of kisses before it, that he was kissing Seungmin for the very first time. Changbin reached his hand up to gently cup Seungmin’s face, reveling in the feel of the smooth skin of Seungmin’s jawline under his thumb. Seungmin’s fingers tangled themselves in Changbin’s hair, grasping tightly as he pulled Changbin ever closer to him. Changbin released a trapped breath through his nose, tilting his jaw upward to deepen the kiss as he slid his tongue past the line of Seungmin’s lips. Seungmin whined into Changbin’s mouth before pulling back suddenly. “Wait,” he said, breathless.
Changbin looked at him expectantly, still cradling Seungmin’s face with one hand, unwilling to stop touching the other boy for even a second.
“I have stuff to say too,” Seungmin started, pausing to catch his breath. Changbin simply nodded encouragingly. “First, I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. I should’ve given you a chance to explain. And also for earlier this week. I know it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know about us. It wasn’t fair of me to expect that of you.”
“How long have you known?” Changbin asked, suddenly curious.
Seungmin’s mouth turned up into a shy smile. “Since that day in my dorm, actually.”
Changbin was shocked. “Really?” he said, incredulous. “You knew this whole time and never said anything?”
“Yeah,” Seungmin said simply, avoiding eye contact. “I had this sort of romantic idea that you would figure it out on your own and then come sweep me off my feet or something, so I didn’t tell you right away. But then that never happened, and I started doubting myself, like maybe I was wrong or something. And that made me self-conscious, which is why I lashed out at you.”
Changbin pushed gently at Seungmin’s cheek. “Seungmin,” he said clearly, “look at me.” Once Seungmin’s eyes had met his own, he continued. “I’m not mad at you. I never was, actually. All I want is to be with you–and if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
Seungmin leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together. “Promise?” he whispered into the space between them.
“Forever.” Changbin replied.
When their lips found each other again it was like everything had fallen into place. Changbin slung a lazy arm around Seungmin’s neck, holding him close as he kissed him slowly, leisurely, surely as the future that stretched out before them. And for the first time, Changbin allowed himself to hope, allowed himself to picture everything he’d been denying himself for the past few months in the name of self-preservation. He pictured his wedding, Seungmin dressed in a white tux, beaming as he slid a shining gold ring onto his finger. He pictured the house they would have, with a big porch and bay windows and plenty of space for their kids to run around. He pictured the two of them growing old together, watching the sunset hand-in-hand as they laughed at the same worn-out jokes. He pictured them kissing each other just like this, like every time was the first time.
Changbin felt Seungmin smiling into the kiss, and then he was pulling back again, framing Changbin’s face with his hands. And then he was laughing, a beautiful sound that rang out like silver bells in the quiet of the night.
“Holy fuck,” Seungmin laughed, “I am so fucking in love with you, Seo Changbin.” He planted a wet kiss on Changbin’s lips, and then broke away to look at him again, his face radiant against the glow of the streetlight. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped, “I love you, I love you, I love you, fuck it feels so good to say that.” Changbin was grinning now too, caught by Seungmin’s infectious joy.
“I’m in love with Seo Changbin!” Seungmin shouted into the night, not caring who heard.
“I’m in love with Kim Seungmin!” Changbin shouted back.
“How about you fall in love with shutting the fuck up!” came a voice from the upstairs window of a house two doors down, and the two boys fell into each other, giggling in unison.
Changbin reached down and laced his fingers together with Seungmin’s. “Let’s go home,” he said simply, starting in the direction of his house.
“Lead the way,” Seungmin said back, and hand-in-hand, they took the first step of what Changbin knew would become countlessly many more, together.
Changbin was delightfully buzzed, several mimosas deep by nine in the morning. He was surrounded by all the people he loved, happy to take in the hive of activity that was their living room. Rosie was fussing with Chan’s graduation cap, her own cap perched primly atop her head, held in place with white barrettes that matched her dress. Hyunjin, who had managed to graduate after all through a combination of pulling all nighters and abusing prescription amphetamines, was in the kitchen with Felix, mixing another pitcher of orange juice and champagne. How he managed to make even their black graduation gowns look stylish, Changbin would never know. Jeongin was comforting Jisung on the couch–his roommate was in tears for the third time this morning. “I’m just so proud of them,” Changbin heard him wail into Jeongin’s shirt.
The past few weeks had been full of emotion, as each of the residents of Racha House said their goodbyes and prepared to be set loose into the real world. Chan had taken a music production gig at a record label in the city, so he and Rosie would be moving into an apartment there while she went to grad school. Hyunjin had just gotten an offer for an entry-level writer position at a fashion magazine, while Minho had signed on as a choreographer for a local theatre company. Changbin had been accepted into a grad program at the same university as Rosie, and so he, Hyunjin, and Minho were planning to share an apartment near Chan and Rosie’s. Jisung had cried at least once a day about “everyone leaving him,” seemingly oblivious to the fact that Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin were moving into the vacant bedrooms in Racha House, and that the rest of them would only be a 30 minute train ride away. Still, Changbin had to admit that he too was apprehensive for things to change. But then he felt a weight settle into the chair next to him, and someone poked his cheek, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Seungmin sat on the arm of the chair, looking down at Changbin with a soft smile that made Changbin understand why the Trojans launched all those ships. “Your stole is on backward,” he said, pointing at the weird loop of fabric that Changbin had slung haphazardly around his neck.
“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Changbin said lazily, pausing to press a light kiss to each of Seungmin’s knuckles, “I have no idea what the fuck a stole even is.”
Seungmin clucked his tongue scoldingly and pulled his hand away, though Changbin didn’t miss how the tips of his ears flushed red. “Stand up, you big dummy, let me fix it for you” Seungmin ordered, and Changbin complied obediently. Seungmin turned him around with a light press on his shoulders, and began the work of straightening the wayward stole. “How did you even do this?” Seungmin asked indignantly, pulling at the knot that had somehow formed where the stole overlapped with the cords around his neck.
“I am very creative.”
“You certainly find new and creative ways to annoy me.” Seungmin finally pulled the stole free from the cords, and smoothed it out over Changbin’s shoulders with a final brush of his hands.
“You’ll miss me next year,” Changbin joked, though there was an unmistakable twinge in his heart as he said it.
“I will,” the teasing tone was suddenly absent from Seungmin’s voice, and he rested his chin on Changbin’s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek into Changbin’s neck and wrapping his arms around him from behind. Changbin reached a hand up and gently pressed it to the back of Seungmin’s head, carding his fingers through the soft hair.
They rested like that for a few moments in silence, and then Seungmin smacked Changbin’s belly twice. “Actually,” he said matter-of-factly, “you guys are living next to that big library in the city with the really nice reading room, so I’m gonna show up all the time and make you study with me. I need to romanticize physics equations with paintings of naked babies above my head.”
“What makes you think I’d study with you, smart ass?” Changbin turned in Seungmin’s arms, and reached up to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s neck.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Seungmin teased, “I’ll be the one studying, I’m sure you’ll just sit there and stare at my pretty face like you did for all of finals season.”
“Hey,” Changbin protested, flicking Seungmin’s forehead indignantly, “I had the highest GPA of my life this semester, thank you very much.”
“You should be thanking me, I’m the only reason you passed multi.”
Changbin stuck out his lower lip in a pout. “In my defense, calculus should never have that many variables. And besides,” he said, a smirk spreading across his face, “why should I struggle on my own when I have the cutest tutor at JYPU at my disposal for free?”
Seungmin shook his head, “I should start charging by the hour.” Changbin just laughed, and took Seungmin by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth playfully.
Suddenly, Minho materialized over Seungmin’s shoulder, a box in hand. “If you guys are done being gay,” he monotoned, “I have a gift for you, Changbin.”
Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we supposed to do this after the ceremony?” he asked, suddenly apprehensive.
“Yeah, but this one is time sensitive.”
Changbin looked at him questioningly, but Minho didn’t explain further, instead just holding out the box for Changbin to open. It had been wrapped in pink tissue paper, and had a poorly tied bow attached to the top with a gratuitous amount of scotch tape. With a sense of dread, Changbin lifted the lid, and immediately let out a loud groan when he saw what was inside.
“No way, dude,” he whined at Minho, who just cackled evilly.
“What?” Seungmin asked, craning his neck to peer into the box. “Oh my god,” he said after he’d seen the contents, “Minho, I love you so much.”
Inside the box was a pair of black stillettos. They were made of a velvety material, with an open toe and a set of complicated-looking straps around the ankles. The heel was only a few inches, but that did nothing to keep images of tripping on stage and breaking an ankle from flooding Changbin’s mind.
Seungmin and Minho leaned into each other, supporting themselves through peels of laughter. “Devil wears Prada-dupe,” Minho joked.
“Oh my god, I’m imagining him falling on his face in front of President Park,” Seungmin said, before collapsing into another fit of giggles.
“Now he’ll only be two inches shorter than you, Seungmin.”
“Very funny, Minho,” Changbin said, “but I hope you kept the receipt because there’s no way I’m actually wearing them.”
“Oh but Binnie darling,” Minho said sweetly, brushing the back of his hand dramatically across Changbin’s cheek, “you made a deal. You wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”
“Yeah, Binnie,” Seungmin echoed at his side, “would you?”
Changbin looked around the room, hoping to find an ally among his friends, but they were all in various states of laughter at his expense. “But I didn’t get a pedicure,” he said desperately, a last ditch attempt to avoid the consequences of his own actions.
“Don’t worry Binnie,” Hyunjin said from across the room, “I got you.” He whipped a bottle of nail polish out of his pocket, a deep green that matched the school colors on his stole.
“Et tu, Jinnie?” Changbin said, sending a look of betrayal at his roommate.
“How do you think he knew your shoe size?” Hyunjin answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“Okay fine, you all win.” He reached down to pull off his socks, but then looked back up and pointed a finger at Minho accusatively. “You have to pay my medical bills when I break my leg.”
“Deal,” Minho said immediately, sticking his hand out for Changbin to shake.
Changbin did in fact fall on his face in front of the university president, though luckily the only thing that was bruised was his ego, made worse by the fact that the video went viral on TikTok after Hyunjin posted it with a funny audio. But really, Changbin couldn’t be mad about it. How could he, when he knew that the events that led up to that moment had brought him exactly what he’d been searching for his whole life? That they had plucked him from his previously directionless existence and set him on the path to destiny, or something similarly poetic? He started to think of the video fondly, to associate it with the nostalgia of his college years, with new love and tentative kisses and the realization that this was the greatest thing he’d ever had.
Though admittedly, when Seungmin played the video at their wedding, Changbin thought it might be better to delete it from the internet entirely.