Chapter Text
Jungwon just didn’t get it.
It was 7 a.m. on a Sunday when his mother called, casually announcing that his cousin was moving in with him.
What?
His cousin? The same cousin he hadn’t seen since he was eight?
Jungwon was hesitant, to say the least. He hadn’t talked to—let alone seen—Riki in over eleven years. His mother’s step sister, his aunt? Maybe his step-aunt? Jungwon wasn’t even sure anymore. She had moved to Japan with seven-year-old Riki when Jungwon was eight, and since then, radio silence.
The only things he remembered about Riki were that he loved rolling around in the backyard after school and was obsessed with Michael Jackson.So why on earth was Riki moving into his college dorm?
Jungwon was a business major. Not by choice, but to please his mother. He had wanted to study design, but business seemed to satisfy her more. Oddly enough, he ended up liking it more than he expected. Still, it left him with almost no free time.
He had planned to spend this Sunday sleeping in—maybe hanging out with Harua. But now? He was suddenly tasked with cleaning out his dorm to make space for a whole other person.
It felt weird—his dorm being occupied again.
Weird, because this was the same dorm he used to share with Seon. His boyfriend. Well—ex-boyfriend.
Up until last week, everything in this room reminded him of Seon. They had done everything together here. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Seon had been a lot of firsts: first roommate, first kiss, first boyfriend. And even now, after everything, Jungwon couldn’t stop thinking about him.
He had caught Seon flirting with multiple girls. When Jungwon confronted him, Seon shrugged it off and claimed he wasn’t into them—which was a blatant lie. So they broke up. After seven months together, it ended. Seon moved out. Jungwon thought he had moved on.
But the thought of someone else sleeping in Seon’s bed? That stung.
Maybe it’ll be good for me, Jungwon thought. A new person. A new distraction.
That’s how he coped—with distractions.
Throughout his nineteen years, Jungwon had gone through a lot of change. And if there was one thing he hated, it was exactly that: change. It always left a bitter aftertaste. Because whenever something changed, he had to change too—and that was exhausting.
He especially hated it when his parents divorced. He never knew why, but it must’ve been something serious, considering his mother had a full-blown breakdown and threatened to kill his father.
Even back then—when he had to change cities, change schools, and endure everyone staring at him like he was some exhibit—he coped the only way he knew how. He picked up a new hobby. Started something random and unrelated to whatever pain he was dealing with. It was his method of survival.
And so far?
It had been working.
He shoved the old shoes Seon had left into a box—one he’d been planned to throw out. It was filled with things that didn’t belong in his life anymore: old clothes that no longer fit, cheap gifts Seon had given him, and food wrappers Seon had annoyingly left around Jungwon sighed. He’d need new bed covers, maybe an air freshener—something strong enough to erase the lingering scent of Seon’s cheap cologne. That smell clung to the room like a ghost. He hated it. And yet, somehow, it still comforted him. That was the worst part.
Okay… so maybe the cleaning wasn’t helping him forget.
Still, Jungwon told himself he just had to hang on until Riki arrived.
Once he’s here, I’ll forget. I won’t even think about Seon, he repeated like a mantra. He forced himself to believe it—because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
Get a new boyfriend?
Too soon, Jungwon thought bitterly. The idea felt fake. Shallow. Impossible.
Seon still stung—more than he liked to admit. And the most frustrating part? He didn’t even know why.
Seon had been an asshole. A cheating bastard. He’d used Jungwon, strung him along like some trial run, just to “experiment” with dating guys. So why couldn’t Jungwon get him out of his head?
It wasn’t until he tripped over his bedpost that he realized everything was done. The room was clean. The bed was made. The box was packed and shoved in a corner.
When did I even finish? he thought. He didn’t remember doing it—and that only made him angrier.
Was Seon really still taking up that much space in his mind?
No. He didn’t deserve that space. He was a liar. A manipulator. A drug addict who had tricked Jungwon into thinking what they had was real.
So why—why—was Jungwon still thinking about him?
He glanced at his phone. 12:00 PM blinked on the screen.
Maybe getting lunch would help. Maybe the fresh air would put distance between him and these thoughts.
Maybe—just maybe—Riki will actually help.
Jungwon’s chest tightened.
Please don’t be like Seon, he prayed. Please don’t be an asshole.
Because if Riki wasn’t different—if he didn’t help in some way—
Jungwon didn’t know what would be left of him to save.
When Jungwon first saw Riki that following Tuesday, he was flabbergasted.
Because—what do you mean thats his cute little cousin.If emo was a person, he was the living definition of it
Riki was tall—at least six feet, Jungwon guessed—as he ducked under the doorframe to step into the dorm. The mental image he had of Riki was immediately shattered. This wasn’t what he expected.
He stood casually in the doorway, a large duffel bag in one hand and a black backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. He wore a loose tank top baggy jeans, and a slightly faded denim jacket that hung perfectly off his broad shoulders. His hair was dark and tousled, pierced ears glinting faintly in the light.
This... didn’t look like an eighteen-year-old. Not one from Jungwon’s memory, anyway.
“Um, where do I put my stuff?” a gruff voice asked, snapping Jungwon out of his trance.
Wait—that was Riki?
Jungwon’s eyes scrambled to his face, searching for any kind of confirmation that this was, in fact, him.
They just… stared at each other for a moment. Silent. Weird. Until Riki finally raised a brow and shrugged, waiting. Oh. Right. He needed to respond.
“U-oh, um—the bed there’s yours,” Jungwon stuttered, pointing toward the one in the far corner of the room.
God, he sounded so lame.
Riki nodded once, calm and unbothered. He walked over, dropped his bags onto the bed, and stretched. Jungwon watched silently as Riki slipped off his shoes and neatly tucked them under the frame. Huh. At least he had manners.
“The door to your left is the bathroom,” Jungwon added quickly, trying to sound more put-together. “Second shelf in there is free if you want it. The cupboard on the right is empty too—for your clothes, I mean.”
He continued rattling off the dorm rules, including the curfew and the policy about visitors. Jungwon didn’t know what to think, but Riki actually listening and nodding attentively was not on the list of things he expected.
Weird.
Honestly, Jungwon hadn’t expected that. And he wasn’t about to complain. In fact, he was grateful. Riki already felt like a million miles better than Seon—and that small thought alone made Jungwon smile, “Ah, um—just one question,” Riki said, putting his feet up on the bed.
Jungwon nodded, encouraging him to go on.
“Would it be okay if my older brother visits sometime this week? He might drop by to check on me.”
…
What?
Jungwon blinked. Older brother? From what he remembered, Riki was an only child. If there had ever been a sibling, Jungwon would’ve definitely known about it. Especially an older one.
“Your… older brother?” Jungwon repeated slowly, as if Riki had said something in another language.
Riki nodded without offering further clarification.
“I didn’t know you had an older brother,” Jungwon said carefully, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Oh, I don’t live with my mother anymore,” Riki said casually, as if that explained everything.
That sentence hit Jungwon like a punch to the gut.
What is happening? First the breakup with Seon, then Riki moving in out of nowhere, and now—this? His cousin not living with his aunt anymore? The amount of information Jungwon had been forcing himself to swallow for the past few days was finally bubbling to the surface—and he felt like he was going to choke on it.
“What… what do you mean?” he asked, voice cracking. “You don’t live with Aunt Cheon anymore?”
The mention of her name made Riki glance away, jaw tightening.
“I don’t. It’s… complicated,” he said stiffly. “I stay with better people now.” Then, quickly—“So, can my hyung visit?”
Jungwon stared at him, his heart racing. He hated how Riki had brushed off the question. It’s complicated? This was complicating him.
Still, he forced himself to nod. “I… I guess? There’s no rule about family visiting.”
Focus on the rules, he told himself. The rules make sense.
“Thank you, Jungwon-ssi,” Riki said softly, pulling out his phone, presumably to text the mysterious older bother.
Jungwon blinked. “Hyung. Just… just call me Hyung, Riki.”
Jungwon would probably go insane if he didn’t.He needed Riki to call him what he used to call him eleven years ago—back when they were chasing butterflies in the backyard. Back when things were simple. Back when things were normal
Because this—whatever this was—was anything but normal