episode 1: emo

Jihoon lies sideways on his bed, feet on the wall and his head hanging upside down. There’s a window open above him, just to his left. The position is a little awkward if he wants the smoke to be picked up by the wind outside but smoking at the window would be infinitely worse. You never know who’s watching.

He puffs out a perfect smoke circle and watches it dissipate in the chilly spring air. It’s getting a little cold but, like the position, it’s yet another case of lesser evil.

The door creaks open and he startles for half a second before Seungcheol’s face comes into focus, upside down.
“This isn’t healthy,” Seungcheol points out, voice even. He looks so serious too, Jihoon can’t help but laugh.

“You say it like I don’t know about the pack you hide in the studio.” He points an accusing finger at Seungcheol, aimed at his face but pointing somewhere around his shoulders instead.

Seungcheol’s frown deepens, the serious-leader façade lasting a moment longer before he sighs. “Care to share?”

Jihoon lifts the pack of cigarettes and lets it drop unceremoniously to the floor, right next to his face. The lighter he holds out, though. He might be dumb but he’s not stupid.

Seungcheol only rolls his eyes, snatching the lighter first, the cigarettes after. He sprawls on the floor, close to Jihoon but at an angle. Jihoon can’t try and see his face without craning his neck too far to be subtle so he settles for watching the smoke curl up from Seungcheol’s cigarette instead.

Voices carry from outside, someone arguing and someone else trying to placate them.

Jihoon makes another smoke ring.

“Is Soonyoung babysitting?”

Seungcheol huffs out a laugh. “They’re grown adults.” Then, a beat later. “Yeah.” The pause is longer this time, heavier somehow. “I need a bit of quiet, I think.”

Jihoon hums in response, making grabby hands at Seungcheol until he surrenders a cigarette and the lighter.

“Have you ever thought about giving up?” Seungcheol’s voice is quiet, curious.

Jihoon isn’t entirely sure which part does he mean - the group? Music? Life? The answer is the same anyways. He shuffles back on the bed, then on his stomach. Seungcheol is staring at the ceiling, cigarette lit and burning away between his fingers. Jihoon suspects it never reached his lips.

“Not really,” he says finally and Seungcheol’s eyes snap to him. “Not seriously, anyway.”

He doesn’t ask the question back because he knows the answer. Seungcheol turns on his side, fully turned to Jihoon now.
“It’s a little tiring sometimes. Being the responsible one.”

“A little,” Jihoon mocks, laughter lacing the words. He reaches out, pushes Seungcheol on his back again then hovers above. “You’re allowed a break from time to time,” he says, reaching for Seungcheol’s useless cigarette. “You’re allowed to be a little dumb sometimes, too.” He takes a drag, then gently taps Seungcheol’s lips. Seungcheol looks a little awestruck as he opens up but doesn’t choke when Jihoon exhales.

Jihoon moves back into his original position, staring at the world upside down. A gust of wind ruffles his hair and he reaches out to straighten it on instinct.

There’s a loud crash somewhere downstairs and Seungcheol audibly flinches, already trying to sit up. Jihoon’s hand shoots up - he can’t push him back down in this position but he can make getting up a little harder.

“Soonyoung can handle it,” he says with conviction. Soonyoung would probably disagree but he’s also a bit dramatic, so whatever. Seungcheol flops back on the floor, which is more important.

“Can I have the lighter?” Seungcheol mumbles eventually.

Jihoon huffs. “Stop wasting my cigarettes.”

He gives him the lighter anyway.