MAY 24

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   Late at night, his face all lit up in bluish-white, Seungmin finally heard the front door open, followed by some quiet, carefully-placed footsteps— with a pause for the toeing off of shoes before those footsteps headed straight upstairs and down the hall just past Seungmin's room. It prompted him to finally check the time. He then realized that he'd forgotten to go to sleep; soon the sun would erupt from early morning clouds with a peachy watercolor splatter to mark morning, and he'd be left red-eyed.

   See, that evening, or really yesterday evening, rushing outside after Jeongin, he'd caught him by the wrist on Felix's porch and broken out with, "Jeongin, this is ridiculous— how many jobs do you have?"

   Looking back over his shoulder as if he only planned to linger a moment, Jeongin answered, "Only three... Hyung, it's fine." To make it more persuasive, he tacked on: "Besides, I'm not working at all tomorrow."

  Seungmin's grip loosened. He let Jeongin's wrist fall out of it naturally; fiery determination cooling down, his voice lowering.  "At least let me drive you there. You could stay a little longer."

   Big surprise: Jeongin shook his head quickly. "I don't want you to miss out. Seriously, it's okay. Please. Go back in."

   Before Seungmin even got the chance to answer, Jeongin was pulling away, heading down the porch steps.

   And it left Seungmin asking why.

   Why could he never accept the smallest act of service? Why couldn't he just let people do him a favor here and there— what was so hard about it?

   Why. Why. Why isn't this good enough for you? Everything I'm trying to do for you. Why don't you stop desperately kicking and flailing your arms to stay afloat? Why won't you let me be there for you? Why don't you let me take care of you? Haven't I showed you that I can?

Why don't you...

   "It hurts, Jeongin!" he suddenly spat. Unaware of what he was saying, the words went directly, straight to his mouth the second they formed in his mind.

    Jeongin's head snapped back toward him at the sound. And, having firmly grasped his attention for the moment, Seungmin kept plowing through uncharted mental waters aloud. "When you refuse my help it tells me you don't trust me. At all."  He threw his arms limply, exasperatedly, into the air.

   Turning on his heels abruptly, Jeongin insisted, eyes flashing wide open, "No— I— I do!" He raked teeth over his lower lip as if fighting his tongue; fidgeted with his hands. "I... I have to go. But I have the whole day off tomorrow. Don't worry about me. Everything's fine," he insisted. And then he was off, once again, before Seungmin could get in another word.

   As he watched Jeongin leave  (with the distinct, hastened gait of someone heading for an escape) Seungmin shoved his hands roughly into his pockets and huffily kicked a twig that had been laying on the porch, defeated.

   He half-regretted it, what he said. Sighing deeply— sharply— he turned back to the door, with the image of Jeongin's face lingering: hurt, wounded. Rapid fire, with no hesitation, Seungmin's unplanned words, totally void of premeditation, had struck like a bullet to the heart.

   Now, in the silent, dark hours of early morning, he was thinking back on that conversation again. And everything he'd said and done after that. Regretting them.

   The things that came out of Seungmin's mouth had always tended to be caustic. This only proved that clearly he still wasn't ready to be caring— to be tender and gentle and reliable— not when his mouth continued to shoot like this. When his trigger finger remained, unchecked.

   Still, what he said was true, wasn't it? Until now, he'd mostly had himself convinced that Jeongin's insistence on independence had come from a desire to not inconvenience anyone. But as soon as Seungmin had gone to confront him, apparently, his true feelings on the matter jumped out.

   If he really thought about it, yes, he'd known Jeongin wasn't trusting him all this time, which is why he'd secretly been feeling hurt all this time. Selfishly. Because no matter what he did, Seungmin never managed to be anything but selfish.

    He'd been picturing himself as a lifeguard— someone who'd swum out to save a drowning boy. Obviously, though, he was still just a selfish, childish, unreliable kid. Only strong enough to keep his own head above water. Maybe he'd only drag Jeongin down below if he grabbed hold of him. So the question was...

   How could he ask Jeongin to trust him like this?

   It took a few moments for that question to change from rhetorical to practical. From 'how could he ask Jeongin to trust him like this?' to: 'how could he ask Jeongin to trust him like this?'

   Perhaps the real question was: how could he be someone who was worthy of Jeongin's trust? Well... first, he'd probably need some answers to the plethora of 'why's  swimming around his head.

   And that was the reason that he'd spent the night pouring through article after article, searching up everything that seemed vaguely, possibly helpful.

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   This Sunday morning— scratch that, afternoon— Seungmin had a plan.

   While Jeongin slept away the first half of his one and only day off, Seungmin was busy in the kitchen, putting waffle batter together. Not knowing when Jeongin would wake up, he assembled everything, from the batter to the sliced strawberries to the hand-whipped cream, then put it all in the fridge to wait, so that the toppings would stay cool and the batter could be cooked fresh as soon as he was up. Seungmin had only finished his work and sat down at the table with a cup of generously creamed-up coffee a few minutes before Jeongin stumbled groggily into the kitchen, bed-head in all its glory. 

   "Welcome to the land of the living," Seungmin chuckled. Mostly just glad to see Jeongin had gotten a decent amount of rest. Even if he still looked half-asleep.

   "Mhm... g'mornin'..." Jeongin slurred, cheek smushed into his hand.

   "It's currently almost 2 PM, but yeah, good morning." Seungmin got up and quietly started on the cooking before Jeongin got a chance to realize what he was doing and complain. 

   Had he not been so wiped, Jeongin would've jumped up to help. Instead, he just stared off into space the entire time. So he was just mildly confused when Seungmin slid a plate of syrup-, cream-, and fruit-topped waffles in front of the previously empty space he was busy staring into for the past ten minutes.

   Jeongin blinked for a few slow seconds, and then the gears started to turn in his brain. Predictably, he began: "Hyung, you didn't ha—"

   "Shh!" Seungmin shushed aggresively, not inclined to hear that phrase from him again. Ever. "Don't even think about it. Eat your waffle."

   Jeongin seemed to take his time trying to decide on a reaction— looking at Seungmin with discomfort, with gratitude, with exhaustion, with overwhelm— and in the meantime, Seungmin just picked up the fork he'd placed in front of Jeongin and cut off a bite of warm, fresh waffle to hold to Jeongin's lips.

   It seemed to surprise him; he forgot about settling on a proper expression and instead reached out to take the fork— though it most definitely would've been easier for him to have just opened his mouth for it at that point.

   With eyebrows uneasily pinched together, Jeongin ate obediently, quietly, pace gradually slowing, until, leaning against his hand again, the fork fell from his grip as he dozed off at the table.

   Seungmin sighed, shook his head, then crouched by Jeongin's chair and pulled the boy's arms over his shoulders. Disoriented, Jeongin woke up having not even realized he fell asleep— so drowsy he just complied when Seungmin asked him to scoot towards him and wrap his legs around his waist.

Well, at least he'll let me take care of him when he's absolutely exhausted.

   Grunting (as quietly as he could), Seungmin struggled to an upright position, hands under Jeongin's thighs. "You should've just stayed in bed, silly," he mumured, unsure if Jeongin could even hear him or not.

    Either way, he didn't acknowledge the words— his cheek stayed smushed against Seungmin's shoulder.

   The thought of just continuing to allow Jeongin to exhaust himself this much until Seungmin had gotten a few more chances to care for him and to hopefully let him get used to it entered Seungmin's mind, but it was quickly disregarded. It probably wouldn't work, and he couldn't have Jeongin like this every week.

   He carried Jeongin back to bed and let him nap on his thigh for the extra half hour that he slept.

   And when he woke up for the final time that day, at last with a decent bit of energy (enough to make his brain function), Jeongin was mortified.

    "I'm so sorry about that, hyung. All of that. I—  You went through all that trouble and I barely even ate anything... You really shouldn't have." He paused, teeth pressing dents into his lower lip. "And I'm sorry for sleeping the whole day... wait a minute, did you— did you carry me?"

   Seungmin gave half of a nod.

   Jeongin flushed bright red. Then he ran his hands frustratedly up the sides of his face. "I meant for us to hang out today."

   Seungmin wasn't saying anything. Rather, he was waiting; sitting back in his seat, arms crossed loosely as he listened. Waiting for Jeongin to finish his inevitable string of needless apologies. Once they stopped up at last, like the unwarranted drops of water that dribble continuously from an old, leaky faucet after it's turned off, he asked, carefully: "Are you finished?"

   Slowly, still flushed, perhaps even more so, Jeongin nodded.

   "Now. Do me a favor, please," Seungmin began.

   Jeongin readily nodded, and Seungmin nearly rolled his eyes at the irony. Reverse-hypocrisy, even— if such a thing were to exist.

   "Tell me, since it's all fresh in your mind: what was so awful about letting me do all of that for you?"

   "I— u-um... I..." Jeongin pressed his hands into his face; ran them through his hair, at a loss. Overwhelmed.

   Seungmin, quietly waited with all the patience he had in him, willing himself to be as steady and gentle as Chan would be in this same situation, until finally:

   "Hyung..." Jeongin's voice unsteadily began. Quiet. Fragile. Genuine (not that his other apologies had been ingenuine— this was just that much more serious and heartfelt)."I'm so sorry I made you feel like I don't trust you. I just..." Jeongin trailed off and concluding words never came.

    Seungmin attempted a slight, reassuring smile. He held his tongue carefully— putting a great deal of effort into speaking slowly and softly, as if Jeongin were a frightened fawn, and the difficult things Seungmin meant to say were a series of twigs on a forest floor which would scare him off with loud snapping noises if stepped on. "You don't, though." He hurried on to add, before Jeongin ended up feeling another bullet hole: "And it's okay. I shouldn't have snapped at you; I'm sorry. But what I said was true, wasn't it? You can't help it— you don't know how to trust anyone. So you never let your guard down, and you always do anything you can to stay completely self-sufficient, right?"

   It took a moment for Jeongin to think it over. To admit it to himself; then to Seungmin. "I... I guess so."

   "Be honest Innie, you're only pretending to trust me, aren't you? Convincing yourself that you do?"

   A moment (long enough for Jeongin to swallow harshly) passed, before, shoulders drooping, he nearly whispered, "Yes."

      "Hey, it's okay." Seungmin put a soothing hand over Jeongin's knee; picked up one of Jeongin's twitchy, shaky hands, wrapping his own steady fingers around it to calm the guilty, nervous movements. "I know I came off really strong yesterday, and, yeah, I was angry— er, frustrated." He paused, twisting his lips in thought. Feeling Jeongin's strong, rapid pulse through his fingertips. "But it's not your fault and I'm not holding it against you. None of this is your fault at all. You know that, right?"

   Jeongin seemed hesitant to agree.

   "Don't make me do all that "repeat after me" shit, okay?" Seungmin chuckled, hoping to get Jeongin to smile. It worked, just barely.

   "I know... It's not my fault. ...Mostly."

   "Jeongin."

   "It's not my fault." 

   "So... now that we have that cleared up..."

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