Burnout ⊗ Jeongchan

⑤① Thicker than Water

He heard the clicking of a small plate being placed on the coffee table, followed by a thunk of a mug that was set next to it. With a bit of reluctance, Jeongin lifted his head from the edge of the couch and scanned over the delivered snacks; crackers and what looked to be pieces of watermelon, the mug wafted a watery steam with the sweetest taste of a muted honey, nothing fancy or avant garde but it was enough to make his stomache groan at the sight. He lightly took the mug of warm water and let the heat seep into his trembling fingers, feeling it soak through the gauze wrap around his shredded skin as it relieved the soreness in his hands.

Chan sat on the end of the coffee table, shoulders hunched as he presented his back to the younger. It provided a blockade, a rift, a barrier, a line, that Jeongin might've realized too late he wouldn't be able to breach. It would've been nice to make it past but there was still too much ground to cover, too high of an obstacle to climb, and Jeongin began to have an inkling their time was growing shorter and shorter with every second they spent in the darkened silence. Adding to the shadows of the night outside.

As the younger quietly munched on a watermelon bit, the sweetness of a summer's memory overflowing his taste buds and washed down by the sunkissed water drizzled with that rich honey flavor, he saw Chan's chest deflate as a tiny scoff entered the air, "Your Dad is an asshole."

"I figured as much," Jeongin mumbled, lacking the energy or will to do anything more than that. His head slightly nodded as he raised the edge of the mug to his lips, letting the steam radiate on his skin, "I just need to know if you're one too."

"Already told you I'm not a good person," Chan told flatly. The younger leaned over to peep at him, noting the way his hands folded carefully as he leaned over his knees and the absence of the usual tease to his eyes replaced by a downcast pain Jeongin never recalled witnessing from him before. The street racer glanced over briefly before shifting to face Jeongin more directly and stating, "Don't think any differently, we've made it clear that what we do is illegal. Street racing is illegal, we own false accounts, forged driver's licenses, Minho and Jisung are geniuses with forgery but we didn't do all that alone."

"Your Dad kept the police off us for... Two years?"

Jeongin's eyes widened as best they could around the swelling from endless tears and mild headaches. He tugged the mug closer to his body, a sting in his chest as he directed his gaze to the poor reflection in the water, speaking softly against the stillness surrounding them, "My Dad doesn't work for the cops."

"No, but he had money. Money keeps mouths shut. Changbin knew a few of your brother's friends, brother was a connection to your Dad, and I..." Chan glanced down to his hands. There wasn't regret in his features, the younger doubted he was the kind of person to regret his choices, it looked more like he was able to acknowledge his memories. Not turn away from shame or deny it but simply, kept steering despite if it was wrong or not, "I knew things about your Dad that could've ended him. So, I threatened him, and he kept the crew out of the police's eyes for a while."

"You blackmailed him," Jeongin glared at him.

The older drifted back to him, a melancholy smile that was barely such pulling weakly at his lips, "If it meant the crew was safe for a few more days, I could shoulder one or two more felonies. Already have a list, might as well add a few more."

Jeongin dropped his gaze back to his mug of water that by now was beginning to return to it's lukewarm state as the chill in his hands and the air leached off it's vibrance. It became nothing impressive, and around surrounded an atmosphere of entropy. He could almost relate to that mug. Only, if it were truly him and no one else in that moment, the water inside would've been caught up in it's own chaos of confused feelings. Now, more than ever before, just what was he supposed to make of everything? Was this an apology? An explanation? Now that puzzle pieces that were missing started to fall into place, should he accept it and move on? Even then, there were still gaps in the final picture that didn't entirely line up.