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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 3 years

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

(Y/N)

With a huff, I lugged another box up the metal staircase, trying my best to keep my balance. It wasn't particularly heavy, just precarious.

I was moving out of my small apartment smackdab in the middle of Seoul to a slightly less small (yet significantly cheaper) apartment on the outskirts of it.

I'd be farther away from my work and my friends, but they graciously assured me that they wouldn't ditch me, and my wallet was thanking me big time, so I guess it's not so bad.

It did weigh on me that I wouldn't be able to hang out with Joochan and Bomin as much as I usually did, but if I was being completely honest... It'd been months since I'd seen them in person anyway.

Life had gotten busy for them, and for me too. I was just grateful for the fact that we weren't the type of friends to let distance make us lose touch.

In fact, we'd started texting each other more now than ever before. Probably 'cause we missed each other.

After getting to the top of the steps (thank you, third floor), I fumbled with the keys in my pocket, propping my box of knickknacks on my hip.

As soon as I opened the door, I was met with the unpleasant scent of dried cat urine, but after some clean up and an hour or two of open windows, I hoped that'd go away.

That doesn't mean I didn't gag, though. How did the previous owner live in this pigsty?

I shook my head, forcing the thought away. "You're living here from now on," I mumbled to myself. "Time to man up and get your hands dirty."

I took a deep breath, letting myself take the first official step through my doorway. The space was dinky and quite literally smelled like piss, but it was mine, and that made me proud.

I took a quick look around. The chipped walls begged for a paint job, but the hardwood floors were solid, and all the natural light that steamed in through the windows was a plus. Bonus of living on the very edge of the building, I guess. You get all the windows to yourself, except on the left side.

As I went on with my journey of lugging boxes up three flights of stairs, I quickly realized two things.

1. This is gonna take forever. Going one box at a time is not beneficial.

2. Mattress? Not happenin'. Not on my own at least.

I sighed, plopping down on a box of clothes that'd been painstakingly duct-taped closed, trying it's very best not to burst at the seams. I dabbed the sweat on my forehead with my sleeve.

As if my fingers had a mind of their own, they dug my phone out of my back pocket, pulling up a group chat of unimaginable lengths.

I don't think I'd ever be able to scroll to the top, even if I tried. Of course, I'd never be bored on the journey either. The three of us together? Our sense of humor was immaculate.

Now, on the one hand... I don't need them. I'm perfectly capable of bringing up the last few boxes, and as far as the mattress goes, I could use it as a bonding experience with my new neighbors.

On the other hand... That would include talking to strangers. I.e—people I don't know. I.e—a perfect way to ignite my social anxiety and ruin my evening.

"Don't you dare call them," it scolded me. "They have enough on their plate as is—they don't need your goddamn baggage on top of that."

I tapped my foot nervously. "Just call 'em over," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.

I could've sworn a little devil version of myself popping up on my left shoulder, an amalgamation of all my negative thoughts and pessimism.

I gasped, furrowing my brows. "Whoa! Language!" I huffed. "Can you chill?"

One may think that it's strange to have a conversation with yourself... And it is. It definitely is, but nevertheless, it helps me work out my issues.

Rule is: don't knock it till you try it.

Another voice edged its way into the conversation. "They'd never be upset with you for asking, y'know."

Ah, finally! My optimism and positive outlook! I was wondering where that had run off to.

"They're nice people, and asking them to help out would make them feel useful," it mentioned. Well... I mentioned. "Besides, they're your friends! They'd be happy to hear from you."

The positive and negative voices went back and forth for a few minutes, stating their cases and trying their best to encourage and deter me in turn.

In the end, I just threw my hands up, giving them a polite invitation to shut up. I looked down at my phone. "Eh, screw it," I muttered, tapping the 'compose text' bar with a vengeance.

(Y/N): Hey, guys! It's movin' day for me.

(Y/N): You're totally not obligated, but are either of you free to help me move in? I know it's kinda short notice.

I waited around for maybe four minutes, tapping my foot along to the rhythm of a wall clock that the previous renters had left behind.

My phone buzzed with one notification, quickly followed by two others.

Joochan: Just my luck, ain't it?

Joochan: I have practice today :/

Bomin: Sorry, (Y/N) :( I'm filming today. I'm on sight right now, actually.

I nodded, a little bit disappointed, but I understood their situation well enough. Daeyeol was probably glaring at Joochan, and Bomin was probably getting chewed out by his director for being on his phone.

Just as I started typing out a general 'it's okay, don't worry about it', two messages popped up almost simultaneously.

Though the wording differed slightly between them, the basic summary was, "I'll come over after work."

Unbeknownst to myself, I smiled down at the screen. 'Knew I could count on you!' I typed out, slapping a cursory emoji on the end.

Note to self for future endeavors: Microwaves are actually pretty damn heavy.

Luckily, I'd had enough forethought to leave the door unlatched, allowing me to easily bump it open with my hip.

An unflattering yelp, three ungraceful one-footed hops and the unfortunate toppling-over of a small stack of boxes later, mission Save The Expensive Electronic ™ was a success.

But of course, that was just enough to throw me off balance. Maybe it's just the poor middle-class citizen in me talking, but the main concern wasn't my own safety—it was the microwave's.

While the messy pile of books on the floor was a shame, it was worth it to save a couple hundred bucks. After storing away the microwave in my new really-only-fit-for-a-midget kitchen, I let out a heavy sigh.

"What a mess..." I huffed out, looking disapprovingly at all the books strewn about the floor from one of the fallen boxes. At least there was nothing breakable inside.

One-by-one (with a slight desire for revenge), I started repacking the books as violently as possible. How dare they betray me like this?

I still had quite a lot of children's books, I realized. Poetry and self-help books were nice and all, but they'd never beat the childish wonder of a fantasy novel, or the nostalgic beauty of a Winnie The Pooh-esque storybook.

Gosh, I could hear the guys teasing me now—acting like I haven't seen them sobbing over Pixar movies before. They act tough now, but they don't realize I have proof.

That blackmail folder will come in handy one day, mark my words.

I spotted another book out of my peripherals. It'd slid across the floor and under the heater, leaving me to fish it out from the leftover dust bunnies.

I wiped it off with a slight shudder, because while the book was mine, the dirt was not, and that's gross.

It was a photo album with little flowers and sunshines doodled across the cover in silver and gold glitter-glue. The spine was hand-bound with multicolored yarn, slightly tattered in spots. It wasn't the prettiest thing ever, but the effort put into it was obvious.

"Choi Bomin, you goofball," I giggled to myself. He'd given it to me last year on my birthday, along with a shy blush, a refusal to accept any teasing from his members, and a heartfelt letter that I seriously considered getting framed. "Outta sight, outta mind, huh?"

After years of friendship, Bomin had gathered together all the pictures we'd taken together—and I do mean all of them. Including the blurry ones, the ugly ones, and the ones I didn't even know existed.

I found myself flipping open to the first page, back against the wall. I couldn't help but giggle at the first picture—an awkward selfie from the first time I'd ever met Joochan's members.

I was sitting at the far left side of the practice room, Joochan's arm slung around my shoulders and a tight, mildly uncomfortable smile on my face.

Bomin was on the far right side, his eyes trained on me and Joochan, ignoring the camera held by a sweaty, grinning Seungmin.

My heart ached a little seeing Jaeseok tangled up in the middle between Jaehyun and Daeyeol. I'd never gotten particularly close to him, but he was kind. He'd been good to me all the way up until his health worsened and he'd been forced to leave the group.

It was a cute scene—everyone posing weirdly (namely Jangjun), trying to make me feel more comfortable. I remembered it like it was yesterday. Sometimes, it still felt like it was.

I'd never seen him dance in person before, and I had nothing better to do, so I thought—why not? It might be fun. Little did I know, he'd left out some important details.

Joochan had scammed me, 100%. He'd invited me over to the practice room, excitedly screeching into the phone that his debut date had finally been confirmed.

"Come over right now," he'd said. "It's nowhere near done or pretty, but I wanna show you the choreo."

10 of 'em, to be exact.

"You didn't tell me I'd be meeting your members, Joochan," I'd hissed at him under my breath after arriving to a room full of sweaty dudes.

"'Cause I knew you wouldn't have come," he chuckled, a tired grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes. "Damn right, I wouldn't have. It's so awkward!" I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know these people, Joo."

"And you never will if you never talk to them," he argued, urging me forward with a light push on the back. "Now stop being such a wuss and say hi!"

I sucked in an anxious breath. He had a point, but still... It was hard. I wasn't the kind of person that could easily slide into a conversation without feeling uncomfortable.

Maybe that was part of growing up, though. I'd always thought that maybe I was a little immature. Or at the very least—emotionally underdeveloped.

Maybe Joochan was right, and getting out of my comfort zone was the only way for me to improve myself.

Didn't make it any easier, though.

Strangely enough though, I didn't have to try at all. Before I knew it, there was a skinny boy with floppy black hair and a pretty nose standing in front of me, messing with the hem of his white tee-shirt. He looked shy.

"Hi," he stuttered out, bowing a little. "My name's Bomin. Are you Joochan's friend? He talks about you a lot." He cleared his throat, giving Joochan a look. "Like... all the time."

Joochan clicked his tongue. "It's not that much," he insisted. Still, he was smiling. "I must admit though, I'm impressed." He bumped my shoulder a bit. "Bomin actually said hi to you. He's usually pretty shy with strangers. Took him forever to warm up to me."

"Who says I've warmed up to you?" the boy joked. He met my eyes briefly. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Up until that point, all I'd done was blink. This random boy who was just as nervous as I was (if not more so) had managed to calm my nerves in less than minute.

I shook my head. "Nah, don't worry about it!" I said. "You didn't make me uncomfortable at all. In fact, I feel much better since you talked to me first." I felt myself crack a smile. "You see, this loser dragged me here under false pretenses."

The boy, Bomin, smiled too—albeit a bit awkward and sheepish. "That sounds like something he'd do."

Joochan gasped. "Hey!"

I was forever grateful to Bomin for that day.

I would've dug my feet in eventually, and Joochan would've helped me, but it sure did go a lot quicker having someone approach me first.

I giggled to myself, staring fondly at the picture before me. It was hard for me to recall the times when I wasn't close to him.

Yet here it was—photographic evidence right in front of me.

I flipped through the book, appreciating the way Bomin and I started sitting closer together as each of the seasons passed. It took a while to get close to him (emotionally and physically), but it was worth it.

I quirked a brow once I got closer to the end of the album. "Do we not have any pictures of just the two of us?" I wondered aloud.

As if the universe had set out to answer my question, on the very last page, there was a picture of me and Bomin—him giving me a piggyback ride after I'd sprained my ankle like an idiot.

I had this pained smile on my face while Bomin looked like he was having the time of his life, doe eyes rounded into crescent moons, wrinkles in the corners. I could hear his laugh through the photo.

I was torn from my thoughts by a knock on the door. It was half open, giving me a clear view into the twilight that'd overtaken the sky. Nostalgia had really taken me on a trip.

"Come in!" I called, already able to tell who it was through the crack in the door. "Took ya long enough," I chuckled.

Joochan rolled his eyes playfully as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "You're lucky I came at all," he said. "I'm so tired—I thought about bailing."

I knew better than that. "Sure you did."

He took a look around the place. "Wow," he said. "This place is dump."

"For now," I said. "You're gonna help me clean it up."

"Of course I am," he sighed. His eyes turned curious. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing to the book in my lap. He slid down the wall, sitting next to me as if it were the most natural thing.

I passed the album to him. Joochan being there felt very natural to me as well. "Take a look for yourself."

He flipped to a random page, immediately erupting in giggles. "We're so tiny!"

I rolled my eyes. "That's from two years ago—we're not that tiny."

"No, dude," I sighed exasperatedly, sweat beading on my brow. "Angle it to the left!" I shouted around the side of mattress.

"Which left?" he asked. "Yours or mine?"

"It's the same left, you idiot!" With a final violent shove, we managed to push it through the doorway, both heaving a relieved sigh. "The hairdye isn't doing you any favors," I joked. "It's affecting your directional abilities."

We laid the mattress flat, smackdab in the middle of the floor, a puff of unswept dirt exploding outwards in a wave.

"Yeah, well maybe if you were better at explaining, I woulda done better," he complained. Despite his sassy tone, the smile on his face gave away the fact that he wasn't actually frustrated. "Women," he huffed.

I scoffed. "Excuse me, but men are way more difficult then women," I argued, flopping onto the mattress with a slight bounce. I patted the spot next to me. He joined me without protest.

"I'm sorry, but what planet are you living on?" he laughed, folding his arms behind his neck. "Since when are men more complicated than women?"

"Since always!" I said. "You talk about how manly and secure you are, but"—I lifted a hand, counting on my fingers—"you never share your inner feelings, you're dense as hell, most of you suffer from toxic masculinity, and you always think you need to wear the pants in the relationship and be 'the big man'."

He pouted, side-eyeing me sulkily. "I'm not like that," he muttered.

I chuckled, dropping my hand back down to my side. "Yeah, I guess you're not."

"I share my feelings with you, I like cute stuff, I hug my bros, and I rely on you when I know I'm not doing well," he said. "That refutes everything you just said."

I snorted. "Okay, I get it! Why do you feel the need to defend yourself?"

"I'm just sayin'." He propped himself up on his elbows, pointing to himself for emphasis. "I'd be an amazing boyfriend!"

"I never said you wouldn't, Joo." I looked at him, narrowing my eyes. "Did you fight with your imaginary girlfriend or something? You're acting weird."

"Shut up," he huffed, flopping back down onto his back. "I'm just saying, I don't think I'm the worst option when it comes to having a mature relationship."

I playfully rolled my eyes at his antics. "I'm not sure about the 'mature' part of that sentence, but yeah. You're not the worst guy out there," I agreed.

"Exactly! Like, I'm loyal!"

I nodded. "Mhm."

"I'm reasonably handsome!"

"Totally."

"I would absolutely spoil my girl."

"Sure, sure."

"And I would just... kill to spend time with her." That sounded more sincere than his previous ramblings. I titled my head a little, examining his side profile that stared up at the ceiling.

"'Cause like... she'd be gorgeous," he continued. "And she'd be kind and funny, and she'd just get me, y'know? She'd be my best friend, no pressure, and I would adore her—"

I reached out, putting my hand over his. "Joo, stop," I said quietly. He met my eyes gingerly. "You're gonna meet a great girl, 'kay? And she's gonna love you as much as you love her. I know you have a lonely job, but you make so many people happy."

I gave him what I hoped was a comforting smile. "Someday, someone's gonna make you that happy."

He smiled at me, almost tenderly. "Y'know, you're a lot like my ideal girl," he whispered, the drowning sunlight peeking through the windows and highlighting his features.

I furrowed my brows. "Umm... Thanks," I said, not really knowing how to respond, the air turning weird and thick. "Random, but whatever—" My words were cut off, as well as my breath.

My brain could barely process the fact that my best friend just leaned in... and kissed me.

Kissed me with his chapped lips, his hair tickling my cheeks, his warm hands caressing my cheeks, and his scent filling my lungs.

It was gentle, but lingering.

I pulled myself out of my daze, pushing him off me and sitting up straight. "Dude, what the hell?" I half-shouted, wiping the kiss away as if someone would be able to see it.

His eyes widened, like he realized what he'd done. "I'm so sorry," he stuttered out. "I kinda just thought we were having a moment."

"No! We were not having 'a moment'!" My heart was beating like crazy. Sure, I'd had a crush on him back when we'd first met—it was nearly impossible not to—but I loved our friendship, and those feelings had died off a long time ago.

At least... I thought they did.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots and sighing deeply. At least he knows when he's screwed up. "I'm sorry," he said again, slightly less panicked. "I shouldn't have done that without asking you first."

I furrowed my brows. Shouldn't he say: 'I shouldn't have done that at all'? I opened my mouth to voice those very thoughts, but I was interrupted by a knock at the door.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, like I'd been caught doing something wrong. Joochan didn't look much better, looking as caught off guard as I felt.

I stood up, clearing my throat and fixing my hair. I didn't have a good feeling about opening this door. Judging by his expression, getting sicker by the second, neither did Joochan.

I walked to the door, opening it with my best fake smile, hoping to dissuade anyone from thinking something just happened behind that slab of metal.

It didn't last long, though.

Any plans I had of keeping my cool went swan-diving out the window as soon as I saw Bomin standing there, drenched in sweat with a huge smile on his face, a bouquet of my favorite flowers in his hands.

The picture before me looked perfect for a confession—like something from a movie, or a romantic novel.

I swallowed hard.

Well, shit.

#kpop #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #request #requested #scenarios #golden child imagines #golden child #골든차일드 #golcha #hong joochan #joochan #주찬 #보민 #bomin #choi bomin #for anon

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iwillgiveyoumyhappiness · 3 years

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Anonymous asked:

Would you make a scenario where fem reader is in a love triangle with her two best friends Bomin and Joochan?, Like they're super good friends but both of them like her... So they confess in different moments, she kisses both and she's confused. Both of them know about the others feelings but they still want to have the upper hand. You can pick the ending and write it however you want! It'll be great if we could feel the struggle... Maybe making her have her moments whenever she hangs with one of them, like she thinks she has decided but then they kiss and the same happens with the other and it's all messy?? Thank you beforehand i hope it's not too much to ask 🥺

Group: Golden Child (골든차일드)

Members: Bomin & Joochan

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Choi Bomin

The script made me dizzy, the words on the page nothing more than a daunting, illegible mess. Still, I willed myself to read on.

I'd woken up with this anxious feeling in my chest, though I wasn't really sure why. It was the kind of feeling where sudden noises make you jump and you can't help but wait for something bad to happen.

Now, what that bad thing could be, I wasn't too sure of. It was just a gut feeling. I was probably just being paranoid, but I couldn't bring myself ignore it.

It was too out of the ordinary.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second. "Five minute break," I mumbled. I massaged circles into my chest, trying to soothe the anxious ache. "Five minutes, then keep going."

Not even a minute later, the door burst open. I jumped out of my skin, immediately feeling like I needed to pretend to be invested in something.

I felt like a puppy that'd been caught gnawing on some shoes and was trying to blame it on the cat.

I stared intently at the script, trying to appear as focused as possible. I could only hope it looked somewhat convincing.

"Hey, Bomin! I've gotta talk to you."

I recognized the voice as Joochan. I let out a silent sigh of relief, the tension releasing from my shoulders. Even if he'd caught me slacking off, he wouldn't be too hard on me.

He was a little more strict than Jangjun, and little less strict than Daeyeol. The perfect middle ground.

Judging by how happy he sounded, I don't think he could've scolded me even if he tried.

"What's up?" I asked, keeping up the whole focusing-on-the-script act. "You sound psyched."

He chuckled, nervous yet giddy. "I think I've got a crush on someone," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice, like a kid opening his first present on Christmas.

My heart clenched, though I didn't really know why. It felt like the anxiety I'd woken up with was a shadowy figure, running up behind me and trying to sink its claws into the nape of my neck.

'Ignore it,' I thought. 'This is a happy thing. Be happy for him. You're paranoid.'

The members and I didn't really get crushes—we were way too busy for that. At least...

That's how we were marketed. But still, we're human beings. And as human beings do, we desire love and affection, cringey as that sounds.

Donghyun would talk about a cute girl he'd seen walking the street, Jaehyun about how he thought the seemingly coldhearted barista might be into him, and well... I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't flutter a little every time I filmed a romantic scene in a drama.

Boys will be boys, I guess.

My eyes had long since ripped away from the pages of my script, staring up widely at my older friend. "You do?" I asked. "That's..."

I tried to consider how I really felt about it. Happy? Sure. I was excited for him. He'd been a good friend to me over the years, and I wished him all the best.

Sceptical? A little. I always got a little suspicious whenever one of us had a crush (even myself)—mostly just because I knew nothing could come of it. What was the point?

Relationships were a very distant dream for us.

Scared? Also yes, but that was for an unknown reason. I couldn't really put a finger on what it was that was making me sick.

You know that feeling you get when you lie, and your stomach twists and tightens, like it's just waiting for your lie to be found out?

Still... It was Joochan. My friend, Joochan.

I pushed away the complicated thoughts, flashing him a smile. "That's awesome," I said. "I'm happy for you!"

I tossed the script to the side table and sat up straight. "So, who's the lucky girl?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Do I know her?"

I could see the corner of his lips turn up, even though he was trying to hide it. He looked so earnest and shy. Cute, if you will.

"Yeah, you know her pretty well," he chuckled. I smiled, urging him to go on. "It's (Y/N)."

My eyes widened, breath hitching. The name echoed in my ears like the aftermath of a massive explosion. I guess now I knew the cause of the anxiousness.

Joochan's gaze changed. Everything went from rainbows and sunshine to doom and gloom in a split second. He seemed to realize the same thing I did.

We both had a crush on the same girl.

I know what you're thinking.

"What a cliche."

Two guys getting a crush on their female friend, resulting in a love triangle and a conflict of interests.

Gosh, now that I say it out loud, it really does sound like the plot of a shoujo manga from the 80s. Though, rather than being heart-fluttering and blush-inducing, it was tense and stressful.

I guess that's the difference between fantasy and reality, though.

Joochan stared at me, wide-eyed like a deer caught in the headlights. He wasn't angry. Just startled and a little bit sad. "You like her?" he breathed.

My fists clenched, paling at the knuckles. I was angry, though I hoped my face didn't show it. "Yeah," I said, voice coming out colder than I'd anticipated. "You too?"

An awkward air hung in the room. You could cut it with a butter knife. "Yeah..." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes trained to the hardwood.

'Look at me, you coward,' I thought in a spiteful wave of emotion. I tried to push those nasty thoughts away, but it was hard.

It was hard because I felt wronged. I'd liked her since day one, but I chose to push those feelings away, 'cause I didn't want to mess anything up for the guys.

We were about to debut. I couldn't confess to some random girl I'd just met—especially not my bandmate's best friend. Plus, I was barely sixteen. I was just a kid.

I told myself, "You're young. The feelings will pass, and you'll have found yourself with a good friend and steady career."

But the feelings didn't pass. They got stronger.

I'd found myself unintentionally logging away everything she liked and disliked, all her little habits—like my brain was a filing cabinet built just to hold (Y/N)-related information.

I was angry because I was jealous. I'd been killing myself over hiding these feelings for the past four years, and I wasn't able to tell anyone. If I did, they'd either tell me to give up or man up.

I didn't want to do either. If I gave up, I'd be losing what I considered to be the purest and most passionate emotion I've ever felt in my life.

But if I confessed... It was a grey area. Everything was unknown.

Who knows? I might even lose her as a friend, and I definitely didn't want that. It was hard enough for me to get this close to her. It took me every minute of the past four years.

She's friendly and cordial, but she doesn't open her heart to just anyone. I had to work hard to earn her trust, and even then...

I knew that when it came to her, I would always be second place to Hong Joochan.

Maybe it was because they'd been friends longer, but he was always the first to hear the good news, the first to get an invite to her birthday party, the first to get a 'how u holdin' up?' text when we were on tour, the first to get a hug.

And when she introduced us to people it was always, "Hey! These are my friends, Joochan and Bomin."

Would it kill her to say 'Bomin and Joochan' every once in a while? In the end, he was best friend #1, and I was best friend #2. Loved, but just slightly less important.

It's a terrible thing to imagine, I know, but sometimes I wondered... If there was a fire, who would she save?

A particularly dark part of my heart that I wished would stay buried would always whisper devilishly in my ear, "Obviously Joochan."

My nails dug into my palms, leaving crescent moon shapes in their wake. "How long have you liked her?" I asked.

He finally looked up, though I wasn't sure if he was actually looking at me, or just in my general direction. "I don't know," he started. "Maybe a week?"

That made my blood boil, though at the same time, I knew it was stupid. I took a deep breath, trying to let my muscles relax.

"Funny," I started. "I've liked her for four years."

Joochan's frown deepened, his brows furrowing with a brotherly concern. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"Because we're idols!" I snapped without thinking. "What was I supposed to do? What I wanted? No, 'cause that's not in my contract."

He sighed. "Bomin, calm down."

"I don't want to." I know it was childish, but for some reason, I could stop myself from saying it. "You wanna confess to her—I can see it in your eyes."

I could tell he wanted to lie to me, make excuses or just straight up leave the conversation, but instead, it was like years of loyalty snuck up on him and he decided he had to be honest.

"Yeah, I do," he said quietly. "Do you want me to back off?"

I felt a pang in my chest. Despite how frustrated I was, my heart could still appreciate the thoughtfulness of a good friend.

"Yeah, I do..." I started, my fists finally unclenching, the color slowly returning to my knuckles. "But if you feel the same way about her that I do, you won't do that. Will you?"

He stopped to think for a moment before a wry, ironic chuckled slipped past his lips. "Nah, I guess not."

I slumped back in my chair, suddenly feeling weak. With my head throw back over the edge, I sighed deeply, covering my eyes with my forearm. The lights were too bright.

"Then what do we do?" I asked.

There was a long, drawn out silence where neither of us could think of a solution. We didn't want to hurt each other, but we were also too prideful to give up.

It might seem silly to be agonizing so much over some girl, but if you knew (Y/N)... You'd understand that she's irreplaceable, and certainly not someone you can easily give up on.

Once you fall for her, you fall hard.

As the silence drew on longer, I felt myself getting more anxious, more angry, more desperate.

I sat up again, making Joochan jump from the sudden movement.

"Can't you just give up?" I asked. "I liked her first, so please just... don't do anything. You've only liked her for a week. Can you do that for me? For old times sake?"

This was the first time I was sure he'd met my eyes. He looked regretful and apologetic, and I could sense every inch of what he was trying to tell me.

A silent but poignant, "I'm sorry, but you know I can't."

I leaned forward, holding my head in my hands. My fingers curled, pulling weakly at my bangs. I hadn't even noticed the tears building in my eyes, but I could feel it now. The warm, salty burn.

"I'm sorry," Joochan said aloud, cutting through the suffocating air that'd settled between us.

I pulled harder on my bangs, mostly to stop my tears from falling. "It's okay," I said quietly, hoping he couldn't hear the shake in my tone.

It wasn't okay. If we both confessed, she'd pick Joochan. He was closer to her, he was more experienced, more affectionate, just...

More than I could offer.

But still, if I'd learned anything after all these years of getting to know her, she was worth the effort of trying.

I looked up only after I was sure I'd blinked the redness out of my eyes. When I met Joochan's, I found myself asking a very selfish and pathetic favor.

"Let me be first," I begged. "Just this once, let me be first when it comes to (Y/N)."

#kpop #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #request #requested #golden child #golden child imagines #골든차일드 #보민 #주찬 #hong joochan #joochan #choi bomin #bomin #scenarios #imagines

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