The first thing Jae-min registered was the ceiling—white, unfamiliar, a thin crack running along one corner like a hairline fracture in glass.
The second thing was the steady beep of a monitor somewhere to his left, and beneath it, the low murmur of someone's thumb moving across a phone screen.
He turned his head. It felt heavier than it should have, like his skull had been swapped out for something denser overnight.
Jihan sat in the chair beside the bed, elbows braced on his knees, phone held loosely between both hands, his attention fixed downward. He looked different like this—less composed than Jae-min had ever seen him, dark hair falling messier across his forehead, a faint crease of worry still sitting between his brows even in stillness.
Jae-min shifted, and the movement was small, barely anything, but Jihan's head snapped up immediately.
The phone dropped from his hands onto the blanket, forgotten.
"You're awake." He was already out of the chair, closing the distance in two quick steps, crouching slightly beside the bed so he was level with Jae-min's face. "How are you feeling?"
"...Like I got hit by something." Jae-min's voice came out rough, throat dry.
"You collapsed." Jihan's jaw tightened faintly. "At the beach."
Right.
The memory came back in pieces—the heat, the juice box, the ground tilting sideways beneath him. Jae-min winced, less from the headache and more from the sudden, sick lurch of guilt that came with remembering exactly how deliberate the whole thing had been.
"...My phone," he said instead, because it was easier than sitting with the rest of it.
Jihan reached for the nightstand without question and handed it over.
"How long was I out?"
"About ten minutes." Jihan's eyes tracked the movement of Jae-min's thumb unlocking the screen, something careful and still slightly unsettled in his expression. "I'll get the doctor. Stay still."
He left before Jae-min could argue, the door clicking shut behind him.
The second he was alone, Jae-min opened his messages.
Min-woo had sent an absolute flood of them.
The first handful were exactly what he expected—mocking, half-joking, the kind of texts that assumed everything had gone fine and Jae-min was just being dramatic about a little dizziness.
*drama queen*
*u better not be milking this for sympathy*
*jihan carrying u bridal style yet or what*
Then, further down, the tone shifted.
*jae*
*it's been 15 min why aren't u answering*
*ok this isn't funny anymore*
*jae answer me*
And further still, the last few messages sitting there raw and unguarded in a way Min-woo almost never let himself be, even through text.
*please just tell me ur okay*
*i'm so sorry i shouldn't have suggested this*
*if something actually happened to you i'll never forgive myself*
*jae please*
Jae-min stared at the screen for a long moment, something tightening in his chest that had nothing to do with the mango.
*I'm alive,* he typed back.
The reply came almost instantly.
*JAE. Are you okay? Actually okay?*
*I'm fine. Little dizzy still. What's the situation on your end?*
*Focus. That's the drugs talking. You almost died and you're asking about the plan.*
*I did not almost die. Answer the question.*
There was a pause, then a longer message.
*Tae-hyun went home with the staff. Family came in two cars but only needed one to fit everyone, so Jihan stayed behind with the second. He's alone. No driver breathing down his neck, no brother watching.*
Jae-min read that twice.
*If he insists on taking you home,* Min-woo continued, *don't let him take you to your actual apartment. Bring him to mine instead. Key's under the flowerpot by the door.*
Jae-min was about to type back a question when the door opened again, Jihan stepping back in with a doctor trailing behind him, clipboard in hand.
He shoved the phone under the blanket on reflex.
The doctor was an older woman with kind, no-nonsense eyes, already flipping through a chart as she approached the bed. "You're awake. Good." She checked his pulse, shone a small light briefly across his eyes, and made a few notes before looking at him properly. "Do you know you have allergies?"
"...Yeah." Jae-min glanced away for half a second. "Mango. It's not usually this bad."
"The drink you had contained a mango supplement," she said. "Not always listed clearly on the label, unfortunately. That's likely what triggered the reaction." She capped her pen, giving him a level look. "It wasn't severe enough to be dangerous this time, but I'd recommend being more careful. Check labels. Ask before drinking something unfamiliar."
"I will," Jae-min said.
Beside him, Jihan spoke before he could stop himself.
"I'll make sure to check."
The doctor gave a small nod and moved on to the next line on her chart, unbothered, but Jae-min turned his head slightly, caught off guard by the phrasing. Not *I'll remind him.* Not *I'll tell him to be careful.* *I'll* check. Like it was already something he'd decided to take responsibility for.
Jihan didn't seem to notice he'd said anything unusual at all.
Jae-min looked away first, something warm and uncomfortable settling low in his stomach that he didn't have the energy to examine right now.
The doctor finished her notes, told him he was free to go once he felt steady enough to stand, and left with a final reminder to rest for the evening.
The silence that followed stretched a little too long.
"I can call you a taxi," Jihan said eventually, "or I can drive you home myself."
Jae-min hesitated, just enough to look like he was considering it out of politeness rather than already knowing the answer.
"...If it's not too much trouble."
"It isn't."
---
The drive was quiet, the city sliding by in streaks of gold as the sun dropped lower toward the skyline. Jae-min sat with his forehead resting lightly against the window, giving directions in short, careful sentences whenever Jihan needed them, steering him block by block toward Min-woo's building instead of his own.
Jihan didn't ask why the neighborhood looked different from what he might have expected. He just followed the directions, hands steady on the wheel, glancing over every few minutes like he was checking Jae-min was still upright.
The car pulled up outside Min-woo's building as the light had started turning properly orange, long shadows stretching across the pavement.
"Here," Jae-min said. "Thank you. For all of this."
Jihan looked at him for a moment longer than the sentence required. "Take care of yourself."
"I will."
Jae-min climbed out, legs still a little unsteady beneath him, and didn't look back until he heard the car pull away from the curb.
Only then did he let out the breath he'd been holding.
He found the spare key exactly where Min-woo said it would be, tucked beneath the chipped flowerpot by the door, and let himself into the apartment. It was quiet inside, empty in that specific way that meant he had the whole place to himself for the next few hours, and for one strange, disoriented second he just stood in the doorway, replaying the drive over in his head.
*I'll make sure to check.*
He shook the thought off and headed for the kitchen, stomach growling loud enough to remind him he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.
The fridge, predictably, was a disaster. A few cans of energy drinks, a lonely apple gone slightly soft, and absolutely nothing that resembled an actual meal.
He pulled out his phone.
*Your fridge is a crime scene. There's nothing to eat.*
*lol sorry,* Min-woo replied almost instantly. *I'm out, be back in like two hours. I'll swing by the supermarket on the way.*
*It's fine, I'll wait. Might head out and grab something myself, it's getting dark anyway.*
*Don't die of hunger before I get there.*
*No promises.*
Jae-min pocketed the phone, grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, and headed for the door. The sky outside had shifted into deep orange bleeding into blue, streetlights just starting to flicker on along the block. His stomach growled again, more insistent this time, and he figured there had to be a convenience store within walking distance if nothing else.
He pulled the door open.
And stopped dead.
Standing on the other side, two full grocery bags hanging from either hand, was Jihan.