Title: three's company

summary: living with his brother and his fiancee is weird sometimes –Saeran, MC

notes: a03 usually sees this stuff first so if you wanna check me out on there, please do! (my username is invisiblyinked)

notes2: uh, spoilers for seven's route?

Living with his brother and his fiancee is weird sometimes, Saeran thinks. They're so noisy; always yelling ridiculous things to each other, jokes Saeran doesn't always quite understand, and then doubling over in laughter as if they were the funniest things in the world. They laughed a lot. It was kind of strange; back in Magenta, even though it was supposed to be paradise, people didn't laugh often and if they did it wasn't quite the same as when Saeyoung and that woman did—in genuine happiness, so carefree and open.

Even though he's been here for about three months already, Saeran doesn't think he'll ever get used to it, but he supposes maybe he won't have to; this living situation is supposed to be temporary anyway, until he can live on his own.

When he thinks about this though, about being alone in an apartment with only the quiet he gets a bit uneasy. He pushes that feeling away, preferring not to delve into what that means.

.

.

He finds himself staring at her.

He doesn't mean to at first, not really. He had been sitting on the couch, reading quietly when she suddenly joined him to watch some television drama.

He hadn't minded at first, even though she sits a little too close, it was fine as long as she didn't disturb him. But she starts falling too deeply into the show she's watching, making all kinds of noises—a shocked gasp, and then moments later a sudden burst of laughter that makes him jump slightly.

He studies her, unable to focus on the words he's been reading, and watches her face change with each passing scene; the way her nose wrinkles up at one of the more unpleasant moments of the show, her lip wobbles like she's going to cry when something more emotional happens, and then a smile—wide, almost too big for her face and making the dimple in her cheek more noticeable.

He's wondering how a person could be so expressive and show so many emotions within the span of a few minutes when she suddenly turns her face to him. Her eyes widen a bit at first and then she just raises an eyebrow, questioning, and doesn't say a word as if waiting for him to explain himself instead.

Saeran feels only slightly embarrassed at having been caught but says nothing. They have a weird sort of stare down for a couple more seconds until she finally says;

"You and Saeyoung have that in common."

Saeran frowns. "What?"

"That intense stare, like you're trying to figure out a way to hack into my brain or something." She taps lightly at her temple and smiles at him.

He thinks, it's because I can't figure you out, he says, "If I wanted to hack into your brain I doubt it'd be difficult."

He expects her to whine and pout, like she usually does when he's being mean. Instead her smile only grows.

"Really?" she says, "I'm a surprisingly complicated woman though."

"Ah," Saeran says, ignoring the funny feeling in his stomach, "Is that so?"

She nods once and says in a low voice, almost conspiratorially, "Although if you really wanted to know my secrets..." she pauses and Saeran subconsciously finds himself leaning towards her, falling into her trap.

"All you gotta do is ask!" she finally exclaims.

He leans away from her and scoffs, deciding to go back to reading his book instead of having this pointless conversation with his weird brother's even weirder girlfriend.

Just ask, he thinks mockingly, as if it would even be that easy.

.

.

She sings when she makes breakfast, something soft and in a language Saeran only barely registers as Arabic.

Saeyoung is leaning across the kitchen counter instead of bothering to help, staring at her dreamily even though Saeran thinks her voice isn't actually anything special. She sounds a little off-key in fact, so he wonders why Saeyoung is making that dumb googly-eyed face. He rolls his eyes as he passes them and finds his way over to the sofa, preferring not to get involved in that scene and figuring that she'd call him in anyway once the food was done. He turns on the television and flicks through the channels absentmindedly.

"Beautiful!" he hears Saeyoung exclaim, "This whole time, you knew how to speak Arabic! Why didn't you tell me? What other secrets are you harboring, you mysterious woman?" He imagines the grin on his brother's face, as he flirts and wants to roll his eyes.

She giggles, a much more melodious sound than her singing voice (wait what? What?) and says, "I speak it a little, and usually only when I'm visiting my mom and her family. But my mom used to sing that song to me all the time when I was young—she's the one who named me you know."

"Hmm...Fairuz...a beautiful name."

"As beautiful as Saeyoung?" she asks and there's a little pause. They're probably having some kind of moment, Saeran thinks and can't help the sneer on his face at how disgustingly loving the two of them are.

He blinks, suddenly and shakes his head. No, nope, he's not gonna go down that rabbit hole of thoughts.

(But he can't help but wonder where exactly it would lead. What would he find there?)

.

.

One day he finds the two of them on the couch, being weird again.

Saeyoung lies down on his stomach, shirtless, as she sort of straddles him, a black marker in one hand and the other resting on his back. There is a look of complete concentration on her face.

"What," Saeran deadpans, "are you doing?"

In complete synchronicity they turn to look at him and Saeran would think it a little creepy if the situation weren't so absolutely ridiculous.

"Counting freckles!" Fairuz answers brightly.

"I'm taking a relaxing break from work," Saeyoung says, smiling cheerily.

"You mean slacking off," Saeran corrects, voice even.

Saeyoung pretends to look offended. "Sl-slacking?! I, the AMAZING Seven-oh-Seven, have never done this 'slacking off' that you speak of!"

Saeran thinks that if he rolls his eyes any further they will actually fall out of his head.

"Ah, Saeran, if you want, I'll count yours too!" She grins and winks at him.

The image of Saeran being in such a position—shirtless, her legs straddling him like that in those shorts, hand tracing his bare skin—causes him to blush, despite himself.

He turns away and heads back towards his room instead of answering.

Those two, he thinks, are not a normal couple.

.

.

She has absolutely no concept of personal space, Saeran is sure—always sitting or standing too close for comfort (she's never tried to touch him though, not the way she casually touches his brother; gentle hand on his shoulder, randomly interlacing their fingers together, how she leans in to him when they sit together. Although once she had made another dumb joke and when he didn't react she had said, it's okay to let loose sometimes, Saeran and reached out as if she wanted to ruffle his hair only to stop herself short, perhaps at seeing the almost terrified look on his face, remembering who it was exactly that she was talking to).

She falls asleep in the middle of some movie he hadn't been paying much attention to, her head finding a resting place on his shoulder. Saeran stays completely still, barely breathing, barely even thinking as he stares down at her.

He considers just waking her up and telling her to go to her own bed already, hand lifted and ready to shake her off when she shifts suddenly and curls into him, nuzzling into his arm, her soft hair tickling his neck.

He lets his hand fall down to his lap again, curiously finding himself unable to do anything but sit still in the quiet sounds of her breathing and the television. For a split second he entertains the notion that he doesn't actually mind, that this might be sort of...peaceful, actually—but then he snaps back to reality and remembers who he is, who she is, and squashes that thought and his feelings down hard until they die.

He hears a door open, and then a loud yawn. "Oh?" he hears his brother say from behind him, "What's this? A betrayal?!" Saeyoung gasps dramatically and comes around to where Saeran can seem him.

At seeing the sleeping woman beside him, Saeyoung lowers his voice a bit but continues the teasing, a playful smile overtaking his features. "I know she's unbearably cute but please! Control yourself!"

"Shut up," Saeran hisses, "and take her already. My arm is getting tired."

Saeyoung complies without a word and Saeran feels a literal weight off his shoulders as she's transferred to his brother's arms. Finally.

"Oh, but seriously though. It's nice to see the two of you getting along so well," Saeyoung says and smiles; slow, deliberate. Saeran does not take the bait.

"Go to bed already," he says instead.

"Alright! Good night Saeran~" Saeyoung sings and carries her away, leaving him alone.

Saeran relishes in the peace, and tells himself he does not miss the warmth at his side.

.

.

She's watching another dumb romantic drama—predictable, the same cliché plot line; complicated love triangle and all. The main heroine finally rejects the confession of one of the love interests. Her heart belongs to the main lead of course, she's so terribly sorry but she cares for him too. That's okay though, if you're happy then that's enough for me. They part on good terms.

"Oh, I feel kind of bad for him, even though I did like the main couple," Fairuz comments.

"It was doomed from the start. She obviously already feelings for that other guy. He should have let her go, from the beginning," Saeran replies simply.

She pouts. "You can't help who you fall in love with. It's not really a switch you can just turn off at a whim."

Saeran frowns at this. "It still doesn't make sense to me," he says (and why is he even so interested in this?), "He let her go so easily. If he really loved her he would have fought harder to stay by her side. If it were me—" He stops.

She looks up at him curiously and Saeran suddenly has this horrible feeling. "If it were you…?" she tries to urge him to continue.

He looks away.

"Never mind."

.

.

He hears them sometimes, late at night when they think he's sleeping—the moans, the pants, the thud of the bed hitting the wall. The rooms aren't as sound proof as Saeyoung likes to think.

If they were going to do this, Saeran thinks in disgust, they could have at least told him to stay over at Yoosung's place or something.

He squeezes his eyes shut, as if that would make him fall asleep faster, and tries to drown out the noise but it's like they only get louder. He can't stop thinking about it anyway; imagining her face, the sweat on her skin, the breathy moans as she rakes her fingers down his back, calling out his name instead of—

Saeran stops, digging his fingers into his thigh hard.

Snap out of it, snap out of it, snap out of it.

The next morning when they've all gathered in the kitchen for breakfast, Saeran very carefully does not make eye contact.

"Saeran! How did you sleep?" Saeyoung asks and he can't tell if his brother is mocking or really just that stupid.

"Fine," he mutters into his cup of orange juice.

"That's good to hear," Fairuz says, kindly as she rummages through the refrigerator. Saeran glances up at her quickly, and almost automatically his eyes zero in on the bruise on her throat.

It's sort of like he stops breathing, in that moment.

He looks away and fights the urge to punch something.

.

.

He has a nightmare again and even though they've become a little less frequent, the intensity is still the same and Saeran finds himself waking up sweating and gasping for air, wondering where he is. He looks around the room, taking a moment to compose himself before kicking the blankets off of him and stumbling out of bed. His body sets on autopilot and heads towards the kitchen, mouth and throat suddenly so dry, only to find that she's there already; sitting on the countertop and eating cookies.

She looks up to see him staring at her. "I got hungry," she says by way of explanation even though he really couldn't care less at this moment. She takes in his disheveled appearance; wild hair, tired eyes, unsteady breathing, the slight shake of his hands.

"Bad dream?" she says softly and he nods his head.

She claps her hands together, wiping off the cookie crumbs and holds her arms out to him wordlessly. Her hands beckon for him to come to her.

He hesitates, only for a moment before he lets himself be embraced by her.

He blames it on the nightmare, his current disorientation makes him feel not like himself and that's the only reason why he lets himself get comfortable.

She is gentle, like a mother (or like he would imagine a mother to be), when she runs her fingers through his curls and sings that same soft song from before (and, oh, okay he gets it now, why saeyoung looked like that).

"It's going to be okay Saeran," she tells him and he wonders why she bothers to say that when he realizes that his cheeks are wet and he's still shaking.

She keeps singing, and he wonders for a moment if its like this with Saeyoung too because he knows his brother is sort of like him and probably gets nightmares like this and he wonders if it's this bad for him too (and the two of them make quite the pair, don't they? two fucked up brothers who can't properly deal with their emotions or each other—and god, how does she even put up with them?) but he doesn't ask. He doesn't really want to know.

Right now it's just the two of them, the night, and her voice.

.

.

He considers the possibility that it's just a proximity thing—his feelings for her. It's highly likely.

They live together, he doesn't go out much and she's far too kind for her own good and constantly bordering the line between friendly and flirty.

He tells himself that if it were anyone else, he'd probably feel the same way. This...crush, would go away soon.

It had to.

.

.

It rains hard on his birthday and Saeran finds it sort of fitting, even though Fairuz looks sort of disappointed.

"I really wanted to take you guys out...the amusement park would have been so much fun!" she says and pouts.

"So much fun!" Saeyoung agrees, "but somehow, the image of Saeran riding on a rollercoaster is a bit..."

He trails off and Saeran wordlessly nods his agreement. "I don't mind staying in though," he admits.

Fairuz thinks this over. "I guess...we can go tomorrow. For now...oh! We can have a movie marathon! With tons and tons of snacks!"

"Honey Buddha! Dr. Pepper and the great Honey Buddha chips!" Saeyoung cheers.

"Yes! And candy!"

"And...ice cream…?" Saeran quietly suggests. The couple looks over at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, most likely just happy that he's actually taking an interest.

"Of course! Of course!" Saeyoung says loudly, "Anything for my beloved brother!"

"And I'll make a cake too! Two cakes for both of you? Saeran! What kind of cake do you like?" she asks, getting a little too close to his face again and he has to back away a bit.

The tips of his hears turn pink. "I don't really care," he mumbles, "Whatever you make is fine."

"Ohhhh! My heart is going to burst with love!" Saeyoung announces, "What a great birthday this is going to be! Better than any one before."

Strangely, for the second time that day, Saeran agrees with him.

.

.

"Happy birthday, Saeran," she says, later after the first movie has ended and she'd run out of the room, suddenly remembering something and returned with two books in hand.

"I didn't know exactly what kinds of things you liked but I always see you reading," she explains as she gives it to him. The first, larger book is one on coding, the other is a smaller book of...poetry?

She smiles nervously. "Sorry, I wasn't sure what you liked to read. I thought poems would be kind of nice? Something different—oh, I have something else too." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a lighter to hand to him. It's silver and shiny with, upon closer inspection, intricate designs of the sun and moon that wrap around the whole thing. He runs his fingers along the embossed surface.

"I thought you would like it. Maybe it's stupid but when I saw it I thought of you and decided to buy it even though smoking is a nasty habit and I would definitely support you if you wanted to quit!"

"Thank you," he says and means it. For the cake, the celebration, the gifts—for thinking of me.

The smile on her face is brilliant and almost overwhelming, somewhat contagious. He smiles back, a little pathetically, but it's a smile, a genuine one.

"Oh!" she says excitedly, "A smile!" She claps her hands together. "Did you see that Captain Seven-oh-Seven! Mission: Get-Saeran-to-Smile has been completed!"

Beside him, Saeyoung howls with joy. "This truly is the best birthday ever!" He grins at him, placing a somewhat tentative hand on his shoulder and as annoyed as wants to be (and pretends he is) Saeran doesn't actually mind.

"I'm a bit jealous though," Saeyoung admits, "Where's my present?"

Her smile turns wicked then. "A surprise for later," is all she says and winks.

"Oh?"

Saeran wrinkles his nose. "Gross," he says, and the two of them only laugh.

.

.

If he were a poet, Saeran would probably compare her to the moon; pulling him in like the tides, soft and gentle, lovely, and with a brightness all her own, not as harsh and unforgiving as the sun.

But he isn't a poet, so she isn't the moon and none of this even matters anyway.

.

.

"What if I told you that I liked you?" he asks.

"Oh! Then I would be very happy! Sometimes I think you don't like me much at all!" she says and flashes that brilliant grin of hers, the one that looks like she's swallowed all the stars in the sky and the light radiates through her face. "I really want to get along with you Saeran!"

He swallows thickly, but doesn't look away from her face. "No," he tries again, "Not that kind of like."

Her expression falters, changing into something more complicated that he doesn't like. "Saeran, I care for you very much but you know that I'm—"

"Calm down. It was only a hypothetical," he lies.

The suspicious look in her eyes tells him she doesn't quite believe him but she doesn't press on further. "Oh, okay then."

.

.

"Jumin says it's impossible to get married in a space station so we'll have to choose another location," Saeyoung says, sounding honestly disappointed and Saeran truly wonders if he thought that it would be possible.

"Aw, but I was so looking forward to it..." Fairuz whines and not for the first time, Saeran thinks that they are the most unusual couple in the world, "It would have been so romantic to get married, surrounded by the stars."

"Hmm...maybe..." Saeyoung starts, "On an airplane then. At night!"

"Oh!"

"If you get married on an airplane, I'm not going to your wedding," Saeran says, choosing now to interrupt before things get too idiotic and they end up deciding to get married in a hot air balloon or something as equally ridiculous.

Saeyoung looks hurt. "You sound like Jaehee," he accuses, "And! You have to come! You're my best man!"

Saeran is genuinely surprised. "I thought it was Yoosung?"

"I want two! Two! You're my brother and Yoosung is my boy—how could I ever choose just one?" he says.

"Saeyoung, the location," Fairuz reminds him, an attempt to get him back on task, "We need to decide so we can make the necessary plans."

"Ah, right. Hm."

"If you want to be married under the stars, why not on a rooftop? That's more realistic," Saeran offers (why is he even helping them with this, honestly, and how are these two even adults?)

"That's honestly a pretty good idea. Nice job Saeran," she praises him, giving a thumbs up and his traitorous face flushes at the compliment.

He feels so complicated.

.

.

He kisses her once.

He doesn't even really know what possesses him to do it—and okay maybe that's a lie, he knows what drives him to do it. It's the inexplicable desire to have her, his fascination with her reaching its peak, he's still so curious about her; he wants to know what it's like to have something of his own if only for a moment. He wants to be impulsive, at least just this once.

So he kisses her, and her lips are as soft as he imagined them to be.

When he pulls away, she's staring with her starry eyes, a little dazed but a little sad too.

"Saeran—" she starts and he doesn't let her finish.

"Sorry," he apologizes, "I just wanted to try it. Just one time."

She looks like she might burst into tears so he adds, "I won't do it again. Promise."

She reaches up to touch his face, softly and something in him shivers and breaks and this was definitely a mistake, she won't stop looking at him with those sad eyes.

"Please don't tell him," he whispers (and is that his voice? That weak, broken thing?).

"This isn't something we should keep from him," she says and she's right and he hates that.

"I know," is all he says.

.

.

It's different between them.

She's still friendly and kind towards him; still buys his favorite ice cream when they run out, watches her dramas with him, and jokes around but—she's distant, like suddenly she's become more aware of him and is now trying to put some space between them.

When he reaches for the remote at the same time she does, their hands brush against each other. She pulls away fast, like he's burned her and tenses up. He tries not to look too hurt about it.

"You don't have to do that," he tells her.

"Sorry," she says, looking away from him and placing her hands in her lap, "It's just—sorry."

Saeran sighs.

"Me too."

.

.

She drops her cup, the glass splintering into pieces as it hits the floor. The sound makes him look over to see what's going on.

"Oops," she mutters and, without thinking, attempts to clean up the mess. It's no surprise when a piece of glass cuts into her palm. "Ow. Ow."

He sighs and moves to help her, taking her hand before she can protest. "Idiot," he says as he brings her over to the kitchen sink so blood doesn't get all over the floor, "Who told you to pick up glass with your bare hands? Wait here." He goes to the bathroom and grabs the first aid kit from the sink cabinet and returns to her.

He opens the kit and takes out a cotton pad and peroxide, using it to dab at the cut as gently as he can but she still winces. "I wasn't thinking. Sorry for making you worry, I can take it from here."

Anger quickly flares up in him. "You're so-!" he stops, breathes and looks her directly in the eye, expression intense. "I don't want to be like this anymore."

There's a pause as they stare each other down, trying to figure out what to say. She breaks the silence.

"I know, I just—it's a little awkward," she admits, "I don't mean to hurt your feelings or anything I just don't know how to deal with...this?" With her other hand she gestures between them.

"I...understand," Saeran says but he's still frowning. She lets out a tired sigh.

"Saeran, I'm sorry I can't reciprocate your feelings," she tells him, "As Saeyoung's brother, and someone who I've gotten to know, I do care about you. A lot. But—I love him and that's not going to change."

"I know," he says, "I know and—it's okay. It was just a crush anyway, so don't worry about me. I think—as long as the two of you are happy together then...it's fine."

Her eyes are soft when they look at him, but they aren't sad this time. He wraps her hand in gauze.

"Thank you," she says and there's only one thing left to do.

.

.

"I kissed her."

Saeyoung slowly swivels around in his computer chair to face his brother. "Really?" he asks and raises his eyebrows, "How was it?"

Saeran stares at him, somewhat dumbfounded. Why doesn't he look angry? Why doesn't he yell? Hit him? Kick him out?

Realization dawns on him. "You knew."

Saeyoung shrugs, easily.

"She told you?" Saeran asked feeling slightly betrayed, then feeling ridiculous for feeling betrayed because of course she would tell him, she had every right to anyway.

"Nope," Saeyoung says, "But it was kind of easy to figure it out. You're surprisingly easy to read. Or maybe just when you like someone. Also, the two of you have been acting weird around each other lately."

"Are you mad?" Saeran asks, still standing by the door, unwilling to get any closer just in case his brother does decide to unleash his wrath.

"Hmm, it depends," Saeyoung says and Saeran looks bewildered (depends on what?), "How was the kiss? Did it make you want to steal her away from me for good?" Saeyoung's eyes glint dangerously behind his glasses as he stares at his brother.

Saeran considers telling him yes, that it did but only for a moment. He had imagined it; imagined being the one to hold her hand, to kiss her, to love her, to go on dates and to make her laugh but—none of those things seemed to be quite right, not for him. Or not for the two of them together.

Instead he turns away from his brother's unnervingly knowing look, hand already on the doorknob and says,

"You don't have to worry. She's not my type."