Chapter Text
Being an idol’s sibling is shitty.
Not in the sense that you never get to see him, no that’s perfection served on a platter; not having to see your jackass of a brother half the time is the definition of happiness. You lived until 2013 seeing him every day so that’s a start. No more will you see that terrifying smile that would hang your poor 5 year old-self upside down by your ankles in order to “worship the rain gods” in Haechan’s kid eyes. You no longer will have to endure people asking if you seriously have the new European disease, “cooties” simply because your brother couldn’t stand seeing you happy to make friends with some of the boys in your school. That bliss is only intact if you also don’t step foot outside. Even the small act of going to the local 7/11 at 1 am unfortunately forces you to see your brother’s smug face plastered onto everything that’s stationary.
Ever since Haechan, (or Hyuck as you call him) became an idol, things have been different in your family. Not in the sense that your parents decided to quit their jobs and live off his scraps so he’d inevitably work up a burning hatred towards you all, no kind of more in the way that no matter what you did, he would always be the golden boy. Everything you did was always minimised to whatever he could’ve been. Not what he did, what he would’ve done had he not gone off at the age of 12 and become another broken down soul in that cruel and inhumane industry.
You got an A? Haechan would’ve gotten A+ if he didn’t become an idol so young.
Going shopping? Haechan’s taken over each and every store.
Got into university? Haechan’s performed there before.
Getting a PhD? Haechan would’ve gotten 3.
Going out to drink? Haechan’s stupid face is all over the bottles.
Wanna go to your childhood restaurant? Can’t since he posted it on his story and now everyday it’s filled to the brim with mindless minions who don’t even like the food and just go there for the non-existent ‘aesthetics’ that consist of a Japanese inspired seating and a bunch of flies waiting to get their grubby hands on your food.
Post a video online? All the comments are about how it’s unbelievable that you two are siblings, how you should also become an idol or more bullshit like that.
The whole idea of even attempting to become an idol at your grown age is laughable the way that if you’re above 13 years old, companies don’t take in trainees anymore; you’re not as stupid or exploitable to weird old men who’ll jerk off to a young pretty face. Whenever you’re with Chenle or Renjun you three go through the bots who comment stuff like that and laugh, simply because these absent minded people truly believe that these types of remarks will somehow make their way to Haechan despite the numerous amount of times he and yourself have both told fans to stop doing this desperate act, how he finds it more irritating than ‘cute’. You don’t respond to the comments nor do you actively delete them simply because it caused your followers to jump from a measly 834 people to now a staggering 23.9K. By next year you’re sure you’ll be invited to Coachella at this rate.
The fact that you can’t go to any of your childhood spots or places without a gaggle of crazed fans surrounding the area, hoping for a glimpse of your brother, or you’re hit with his face everywhere you walk, really shouldn’t irk you as much as it does. You should be ‘happy’ that your brother can get you anything you want, any album, any skincare product, any autograph of a celebrity in Asia, etc. But in your eyes, it just isn’t fair – why on earth would you getting into one of Korea’s and Asia’s top universities for a job that earns ludicrous amounts of money be a small achievement in your family? If you were part of any stereotypical Asian family, you’re 99.9% sure that they’d treat you like the second coming of Christ.
You think you could literally kill someone, and your family would make a comment on how Haechan could do it better than you, how he would’ve left no evidence point blank. He wouldn’t have used cyanide, he would’ve been more brave, more bold – Haechan would explode the person or some bullshit like that. The fact is that, you just had to get through uni, go abroad to a nice place where your brother isn’t everywhere across the city and only see him once or twice a year. What a glorious future, no more seeing that annoying face that used to shave the hair clean off your dolls and claim it was an accident. Just pure bliss. All problems gone.
The only, one and only upside to having Haechan as your brother is the fact that you get to stare and ogle at his very, very attractive bandmates as much as you desire.
You don’t mean to stare, you obey Haechan’s various rules about living with his bandmates whilst you attended Yonsei, the first couple were reasonable, “after 9 at night don’t make shit tons of noise”, “don’t leave dirty dishes out”, etc tec. But the whole “don’t fuck my members” talk went through one ear and out the other whilst your eyes were glued to the broad bare back of Jeno who happened to be in the kitchen, making his protein shake at the same time as your lecture on why Haechan would actively eat you alive for even insinuating anything the idea of doing anything lewd with one of them. How you should “focus on getting that orthodontist degree, not my members” but where’s the fun in that? Besides, it’s not like you’re going to see them practically naked and just start humping the nearest object like a dog in heat.
Well, now you’re contemplating if you should’ve agreed to Haechan’s offer to live with him and his members because goddamn you wish you lived anywhere else. Anywhere else but here would be better. So much better.
Unfortunately, it’s not for a good reason.
You’re not blessed with the sight of all of them sweaty, angry and sexually frustrated after a long day of work, instead you’re cursed with them all being lightweights and loud drunks. Very, very loud drunks.
It’s 2 in the morning on a Tuesday and they’re all drunk off their asses after what appears to be like 6 bottles of soju in total, screaming like its karaoke night and the mission is to make the other apartments hear their chopped screeching vocals. They’re all celebrating their final promotions before the 3 months of hiatus they have for the first time in all 10 years of being together, cute on a weekend – not when you’ve got one of the most important lectures of your course tomorrow, or rather should one say; today.
The music is actively shaking the walls in the apartment and has been for the past 3 hours, but your final straw is when you hear your brother begin to attempt belting out Taeyeon’s line in Dancing Queen. Trudging into the kitchen and flicking the lights on, you’re met with a disappointing sight (since you were expecting 6 hot, sexy, preferably half naked men and your brother), the only piece of clothing that seems to be off is everyone’s socks and Chenle’s shirt after he got too hot from the seven shots of soju he drank, evident from both the shot glasses that are piled up like a pyramid in front of the drunk man and how red the man’s face is.
“C’monnn- Dong was just about to kill that shit”
The whine comes from none other than Na Jaemin, the group’s princess and the only member you actually think could be naturally blonde, Jaemin’s sprawled across the sofa with a beer bottle in hand, humorously – the beer bottle stars his own face. He hits you with a pout that actually causes your heart to hurt a little, but not enough to ignore the aching migraine that’s ringing through your ears from their non-stop squealing and wailing that anyone would have a hard time imagining it were singing. You think your neighbours think that some drunk bums have taken over the DREAM dorms.
“You all need to shut the fuck up. It is 2 o’clock in the morning. I have lectures tomorrow; our neighbours have work. Go. To. Sleep.” You don’t normally shout, much too terrified that’ll cause your brother’s bandmates to hate you but God, you feel close as hell to doing it right now. You understood that idols have weird schedules, that the boys would come home at ungodly hours on the regular, but even that doesn’t excuse partying like a bunch of virgins in your living room.
You don’t actually know if any of them are virgins, now that you’re really thinking about it, but if you had to guess you’d say all of them as right now they’re celebrating a break by singing SNSD and AOA karaoke in the living room, drinking the cheapest beer in the city as if they’re not multimillionaires and nobody’s near to naked.
The last point isn’t as bad as the other two, but you’d think given the way they act on camera that you’d hope to be able to see some proper sexy shit. Maybe in another life you would, maybe on another day- but right now you just want to crawl into a hole from second hand embarrassment at the way that they’re all behaving, and you’ve never been more grateful that they didn’t have any girls over because this would’ve made headlines that Korea’s golden boys act like 15 year olds who’d had their first sip of vodka.
There are bottles littered all over the room, most of them still half full with various concoctions, the majority of the danger seems to be at Chenle’s feet, who has gathered effectively what could be the entirety of the local 7/11’s soju bottles, each one starring a different member of TWICE’s face on them. The one that he’s cradling like one would a child is Nayeon’s, who would probably cackle at this whole scenario like a hyena. Damn, in this moment you would do anything to be siblings with any other idol, you’d actually die to be anyone else right now.
The feeling of somebody grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you startles you right out of the standing up sleep you experienced for a split second. The very best second of your life - until you lock eyes with whoever’s shaking you like a baby would a rattle toy and your face falls flat, your brother is obviously the drunkest of them all, given the way he’s grinning ear to ear like the cheshire cat and his eyes are blown wider than when he won a daesang. “Hyuck, let go of me-”
Your words are cut short when another body practically drapes itself all over you like a blanket. And as you stumble slightly, Haechan coos, louder than one should when whispering into your ear; “Mark don’t fall in love with my baby sister-” You pride yourself in being able to keep up through at least half of Johnny’s workout, but you don’t think you can handle holding up both yourself and the entire bodyweight of Mark (who’s now drooling over your shoulder like a sleeping baby) on two hours of sleep.
It’s at this point you realise that you do in fact, still despise being the sibling of an idol.
You watch as your brother goes back drunkenly to singing the ending of Dancing Queen, before collapsing and immediately blacking on top out of the already sleeping Renjun who’s snoring so loud you think the entirety of Seoul can hear him. Jisung and Jeno still going at it with shots, each drink accompanied with more egging on from the other whilst Jaemin begins to cry about one of his exes, beer spilling from his hand, soaking the carpet which he normally treats like his own child; yelling curses to anyone who dares spill a drop of water on it. You know from first hand experience of accidentally walking in at 4am to Jaemin stroking said carpet and whispering things like a madman, as if it were a pet cat.
He’s always been an emotional drunk, and in any other scenario you would’ve found his ranting funny – given the way he can’t even remember the poor girl’s name you doubt they had any real connection other than good sex since he’s droning on and on about how great she was at giving head, but right now all your mind can think about is how you’re screwed for your commute to university tomorrow since you can’t actively drive due to the amount of speeding tickets you’ve racked up from being late to lectures or having to go collect them from an emergency sasaeng encounter. You’ve been late once and witnessed Chenle getting rugby tackled by a tiny woman who acted like prime Antoine Dupont attempting to score a try. Funny as an afterthought but in the moment, you truly thought you were about to see your best friend get eaten alive by a group of fangirls who thought they truly had a chance with the idol.
If you count the number of times they’ve done something stupid such as sharing their location on an Instagram story and you’ve had to speed close to 90km/h through the streets of Seoul to get there before they get surrounded, you’d be counting forever. You’re close to beating Alina Zagotiva for the number of times you’ve done something illegal on the road. The fact that you only legally got your driver’s licence 2 years ago is the nail in the coffin each and every time you get caught; with every officer looking you up and down in surprise. But looking around the room even Hellen Keller could tell that none of them are exactly in the condition to drive you to your university lecture in approximately 4 hours, so you’ll have to write yet another email to your professor on how sick you are, how you’re puking your guts out on a Wednesday morning. If you really think about it, at the rate that you’ve been sending these emails you’re pretty sure she’s going to assume you’re terminally ill. Or that you’re a raging alcoholic who keeps drinking like there’s no tomorrow… you’re praying she doesn’t think the second option.
A sigh escapes you as the weight of it all comes crashing down again on your shoulders which are already weighed down with the mass of Mark, how no matter what you do; you’ll always be indebted to Haechan’s kindness on allowing you to stay in the dorms, avoiding the normal fee of ₩4.5M per month. You’re freeloading in your parents’ eyes, but they don’t see the amount of effort you put in to make sure the one-night stands leave in the morning without a fuss or that it’s you who’s forcing them to chug 20 bottles of water, so that they sober up just a little to be able to go to a fan sign and not look like they’ve spent the entire night drinking their livers rotten. This is your way of making sure they don’t get hurt more than they already are by this industry. You’re not affectionate to them outwardly, but this is your form of loving them all.
So, you begin to drag Mark’s sleeping body towards the corridor of doors, one hand barely supporting him whilst the other types out a quick notice to your professor, politely adding a quick thank you for her leniency and if it’s in her ability to send the slides and notes over. By the time you’ve stop emailing your teacher, Mark’s body is nearly lying on the ground, still drooling like it’s the best sleep of his life; picking him up you begin to tug him up and wrap an arm around his unfairly small waist, but that’s a thought for another time – your main concern is finding out which of the 7 rooms apart from yours is his. Unhelpfully, the members made some agreement aeons ago that in the dorms, they wouldn’t put any signs up in the case that someone were to break in, they wouldn’t know who’s was whose and would assume that it was just a group of normal college students instead.
“Jun? Jun, dude I’m not that drunk” you’re snapped out of your train of thought by the words that tumble out of the drunken Canadian, who’s now breathing right on your neck, mistaking you for Renjun given your likeness in height, his mouth so close that an accidental drawl of his words would result in him licking you. You’re not a whore, you know that much, you don’t spend every day partying and going home with different guys and girls – but everyone has kinks, one of yours just so happens to be licking. You’re not sure on what exactly about the action turns you on, maybe it’s the thrill of watching Haechan try to decipher who’s marked you up in the morning, maybe it’s the intimacy of being so close to one another, maybe it’s the fact that it’s Mark Lee. His little whines and whimpers refusing to admit he’s drunk causes you to fall back into your daydreaming, imagining all the pretty words Mark would say to you, too drunk to keep his head up, just sober enough to keep on pounding into you. Thrust after thrust filled with a swirling mix of lust and love, each snap of his hips against yours being gentle yet harsh, murmurs of praises against your skin.
You wonder, would he be rough and a brat tamer or is he more of the soft and delicate types? Would he force you to be quiet or stop every time you tried to keep your noises down, god you wondered so many wrong things about your brother’s life long best friend, but the weight of those thoughts suddenly begin to creep into your mind, how distraught Haechan would be if you fucked a member, let alone his best friend? But, in reality, who wouldn’t think about sex with Mark Lee? His body starts to scream the same language that you’re thinking of. The feeling of his hardening length isn’t muffled in the slightest by the silk Victoria Secret pyjamas your brother bought for you a couple years ago, each movement of his pelvis against yours is felt as if it’s skin on skin. Your body starts to respond uncontrollably; you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter by the second and you’re almost certain that anybody in a 3- mile radius can smell you getting wetter by the second.
“You smell nice, you know Sweetheart?”
Mark’s voice has somehow gone down the octave as he begins to crowd you against the nearest wall, calloused hands gripping your hips like there’s no tomorrow. Your mind goes blank as you suddenly realise that Mark is suddenly sober, or acting like one would if they were. “Mark? Mark, you’re wasted, you don’t mean that-” you pause, suddenly hyper aware of how weird your voice sounds and also how loud you both are being, very wary that as far as you know, Jeno, Jisung and Jaemin are all still wide awake; but Mark doesn’t seem to share your same concerns, fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts, a dopey smile on his face. “You know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”