Archive of Our Own

Soobin had been betting on Beomgyu hating his hair. Which sounds awful, he knows, but he also won’t lie.

And neither did Beomgyu. Lie, that is. He did hate it, at first. And if Soobin was reading things wrong and if it wasn't an emotion as latent as hate, then Beomgyu at the very least was wary and skeptical of the executive decision made about his hair for him.

To grow his hair out, that is. Not that it’s something different. Something new or something special… Except it kind of is. If not to Beomgyu, then definitely to Soobin. Which is basically the same thing: Soobin is an extension of Beomgyu, Beomgyu is an extension of Soobin. The way it’s always been, the way Soobin is sure it’s always going to be.

Which is why he’s on the verge of tears right now, naturally.

It’s been months since Beomgyu had gotten a well and proper haircut. And while that isn’t the reason why the bridge of Soobin’s nose is stinging with the violent urge to cry, he's sure that it has at least something to do with it. Because he supposes that everything traces back to Beomgyu: and Beomgyu growing his hair out, and Beomgyu not necessarily liking it at first, and then Beomgyu steadily growing to like a lot it under all the praise and compliments, and then Beomgyu—

Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu.

And maybe Yeonjun too, if Soobin really wanted to let his thoughts run in that direction. Which he doesn’t, not really, but thoughts were intrusive, and his mind is already going there before he can step on the metaphoric brakes.

See, Yeonjun plays a very key role in why Soobin is the way that he is, presently. And not in the sentimental, he’s been by side through the highs and lows of adolescence, and we’ve known each other for a bit too long, at this point, type of way. No, moreso in a, Yeonjun is stealing my best friend away from me from right under my nose, type of way. Not that Soobin has anything to support that theory, or much to go off of, now that he thinks about it.

But anyways, that wasn’t the point. 

The point is that Soobin is watching from the kitchen, as he reheats something Taehyun made in the early hours of the other night, as Beomgyu bounces over to Yeonjun’s room. Beomgyu knocks twice on the closed door, doesn’t even wait for a response before turning the knob, letting himself in, and closing the door shut behind him.

Soobin wonders what the hell even was the point of knocking. He also wonders what the hell Beomgyu is doing in Yeonjun’s room for the third time this week. Not that he was counting, because why would he count? He has a very normal curiosity towards what had suddenly become so interesting about Yeonjun in Beomgyu’s eyes, thank you very much.

“Just because you’re staring really hard, doesn’t mean you’ll actually see what’s going on in Yeonjun hyung’s room.”

Taehyun, on the other hand, does not think that Soobin’s curiosity is very normal. In fact, he often goes out of his way to remind Soobin that, “If you feel so left out, I’m sure neither of them will mind you asking, y’know?”

Soobin does know. Soobin also isn’t feeling left out, whatever the hell Taehyun is implying with that one…

“It is thirty-five degrees outside,” he says in lieu of anything related to what Taehyun is trying to talk about. The microwave beeps at the same time Taehyun fixes him with a look (his signature, why are you hurting your brain? look), before clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “If you’re going outside, just remember that—”

“Do you want to come with me?” Taehyun interrupts, and Soobin, for all the grace and eloquence he likes to believe he has, gags out loud as he hears the offer. One look at Taehyun, and Soobin can tell that he isn’t impressed. “That was a rhetorical question, by the way. I was just asking to see if you still had a sound enough mind to register what was going on around you.”

“And why wouldn’t I have a sound mind?” Soobin scowls.

The look Taehyun gives him is full of pity, of all things.

“Oh, I dunno… Maybe because you just put the gimbap I made into the microwave.”

Taehyun leaves out the front door while Soobin is left to process what just happened, as well as the plate of warm and mushy gimbap he’s left with. This was supposed to be his dinner. 

Soobin’s face scrunches up before he can help it, and that stinging sensation is back in the bridge of his nose. He squeezes his eyes shut, he feels them stinging too, and concludes that somehow, obviously, this is all Beomgyu’s fault.

“Choi Beomgyu!”

Soobin thinks he hears something crash in Yeonjun’s room: he isn’t too sure though, since there isn’t much he can hear over the ringing in his ears.

“He’s doing it again,” Kai sing-songs as he walks past the kitchen, heading towards his shared bedroom for the night. Doing what, Soobin is too afraid to ask in fear of the answer he’ll receive, so he ignores their maknae in favour of watching as Beomgyu peers his head out of Yeonjun’s room, tilting it to the side curiously.

“Hm? Did you need something, Soobin?”

Soobin needs to know what Yeonjun and Beomgyu have been up to multiple times a week, for multiple weeks. But that’s too invasive to voice out loud, Soobin thinks it’s even a bit invasive to think about, so he’s left scrambling, trying to find an excuse for why shrieked Beomgyu’s name out like an idiot.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” It’s a weak question, and it comes out of his mouth sounding weak too. Soobin has half the mind to shrivel up, but the entirety of his one-hundred and eighty-five centimeters build makes that only a bit of a challenge.

Thankfully though, Beomgyu doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“No, not yet… Have you?”

“You didn’t eat with Yeonjun hyung?” Soobin asks before he can help himself, because he’s, once again, an idiot, and every other derogatory word he can think of for himself, at this very moment. It slips from his lips because he’s used to Yeonjun ordering enough food for both himself and Beomgyu, and the two of them grubbing dinner away together. Or at least, that’s how it’s been for the past few weeks, so honestly, can you blame Soobin for thinking otherwise?

“Yeonjun hyung already ate earlier with Taehyunnie,” Beomgyu shrugs, and then looks at the sorry excuse of gimbap (he’s sorry to Taehyun, too, he really is. Soobin is sure his gimbap tasted better before Soobin got his disastrous hands on it), and then winces. “You wanna eat together?”

“Yeah,” Soobin sighs, because even if that wasn’t the goal he had in mind when he sauntered into the kitchen, had a mini meltdown over seeing Beomgyu skip into Yeonjun’s bedroom, and ruined his dinner, he supposes that a part of him does want to eat with Beomgyu.

The way they used to when they still shared a room: multiple nights spent in the confinements of their shared, four walls, grease permeating through the air and food splayed along the floor in front of their beds.

Perhaps an even bigger part of Soobin wants to go back to doing more than just eating with Beomgyu, but that was something else, for another time. He didn’t really want to think about the implications of him somehow, for some reason, yearning for what his daily routines consisted of when he was constantly getting locked out of his own bedroom when all he wanted was a shower and some sleep, and usually ended up getting woken up at ungodly hours in the dead of night because Beomgyu decided to come back home late.

“Cool. You know what I like, can you order while I finish something up with hyung?”

Soobin almost drops the plate of shameful gimbap in his hands. He can do that, if he’s being honest. Soobin can do a lot of things, if he wanted to. But did he want to do this when he didn’t even know what Beomgyu was up to Yeonjun?

He himself can’t answer that, because it’s not like he deserves much of a say: it’s Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s business, and as much as Soobin wants it to be his business too (once again, Beomgyu is an extension of Soobin, Soobin is an extension of Beomgyu), he knows that it isn’t. Nor is it ever going to be if he just mopes around about it instead of being productive about it (maybe Taehyun’s talks are working). 

“Yeah,” he croaks out again. If Beomgyu looks at him weirdly for it, Soobin doesn’t notice it. He’s too busy trying to hold back tears as he guiltily dumps the gimbap Taehyun had worked so hard on in the garbage. God, this is horrible. “Take your time, y’know how delivery sometimes takes a while.”

Soobin doesn’t mean it, because maybe he’s a terrible person. Soobin wants Beomgyu to ditch whatever the hell is so supposedly important with Yeonjun, and wants to maybe play a few rounds of this game he bought recently until their dinner arrives. But he can’t do that, obviously, because Beomgyu is already closing the door to Yeonjun’s room again.

He’s left alone in the kitchen, plate empty, Kang Taehyun at the gym, Huening Kai nowhere to be seen, and Choi Yeonjun hogging his best friend all for himself.

Soobin thinks that this is miserable. And that maybe this really is his own fault: just because he’s staring really hard, doesn’t mean he’ll be able to see what’s going on through the closed door. He can’t keep shrieking Beomgyu’s name like the way Toto screeches for attention whenever he wants. All he can do is order dinner, somberly digging out Beomgyu’s favourite dishes from the depths of his memory, from all of the restaurants they frequently order from, and… Wait.

It’s the most gruelling thirty-four minutes of Soobin’s life, for the record. Which is definitely an exaggeration, there have been more tense moments in his life, but that didn’t matter… Soobin has half the mind to blame it on the hot and sticky July weather outside, anyways. What matters is that Beomgyu comes skipping out of Yeonjun’s room with a glow to his face, and Soobin only wants to die just a little bit.

When was the last time he’s been the cause of such a glow? Probably when they were still roommates, months ago.

“Soobin!” At least Beomgyu still calls Soobin like he’s the only one he ever wants to spend time with. No matter the truth (read: Beomgyu would rather spend time with Yeonjun, if given the chance), Soobin relishes in normalcy. Or at least, what he considers normalcy. What he’d like to be normal, as it were. “What do you think?”

Soobin had been too busy focusing on the glow on Beomgyu’s cheeks to notice something starkly different alongside his aura: his hair.

Which is the stupidest thing he’s ever skipped over, because for the last three months, the only thing Soobin has been noticing about Beomgyu upon every first glance is how his hair curls over the nape of his neck, and how his bangs are constantly falling into his eyes. Soobin thinks that the way Beomgyu brings two fingers up to part his forehead bangs into a curtain is cute beyond words. Not that he’d ever tell Beomgyu that: there are a lot of things Soobin has done in this lifetime, and will continue to do, but enabling Beomgyu’s narcissistic behaviour has definitely got to be near the bottom of his list.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand: Beomgyu’s hair, which Soobin has shed way too many tears over. More than he’s willing to admit. And he may have to add to that tally of tears right now, because Beomgyu—

Really, really suits this hair. So much so that Soobin has spent countless nights lying awake in his bed, wondering if Beomgyu would ever let him brush it. It’s not like he’s gotten the urge to take care of Beomgyu’s hair before this, other than maybe recommended a few shampoos and hair treatments, but this is different, of course it is.

This is Soobin wanting to take the brush Beomgyu had purchased specifically for long hair, sit behind his best friend (his soulmate—Soobin is convinced, after all these years, that he absolutely cannot live without Beomgyu. And he will never tell Beomgyu this, because… Because it’s a bit easier that way, he supposes), and run the teeth of the brush from the roots sprouting from Beomgyu’s scalp, all the way down to the ends which are reaching just past his shoulder. Mindful of the extension-highlights, of course.

“It’s cute,” Soobin says before anything else, because it is cute. There are a lot of things about Beomgyu which Soobin finds cute: and the ponytail he’s whipped his hair up in is definitely one of them. “Did Yeonjun hyung do it?” Because he can’t help it. Maybe he has a serious disease, or something, something he should look into getting checked out.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu admits, rather shyly, if Soobin knows a thing or two about the other boy. And he knows a lot more than a thing or two. “It’s getting too hot these days, so Yeonjun hyung taught me how to tie it up so that not all of my hair is on my neck,” he explains, without Soobin even having to ask. It’s easy like this, when Soobin thinks about it: Beomgyu talks enough for the both of them sometimes, especially during times where Soobin finds it hard to find the words he needs to express himself, to the point where he answers all of the questions Soobin has yet to ask.

It saves him the mortification, and repercussion of asking them out loud, himself. It’s just simply another thing Soobin adds to his ever growing list of things he appreciates about Beomgyu, amongst many other things.

“Is that what you've been doing? Letting hyung play hair salon with you?”

“When you say it like that it sounds weird,” Beomgyu pouts, and then all but unceremoniously plops himself down onto the bed next to Soobin. “I had something I wanted to ask him before. Anyways, how long does the delivery app say?” Beomgyu doesn’t even give Soobin a few seconds to answer his question, before he’s leaning over the older’s shoulder and trying to peer at his phone screen himself.

“What did you ask him?” Again, for the nth time this night, Soobin’s question falls from his lips before he can help himself. If he had any shred of self control in all one-hundred and eighty-five centimetres of his body, it’s proven itself useless tonight.

Maybe that’s the part of him which is used to Beomgyu seeking him out whenever he has something to ask. Not to say that Beomgyu doesn’t find solace and comfort in different members depending on the situation: he does, because that’s just how it is. When it comes to certain things, certain people are better at handling the situation than others. 

Either way, a part of Soobin is just used to being the one that Beomgyu searches for. In the back of his mind, a stupid, annoying voice tells him that the only reason Soobin even has that expectation is because Beomgyu used to confide in him out of convenience: they shared a room together, after all—there was no escaping each other even if they wanted.

But he wills himself to not think like that, because he knows that’s not true. That’s not who Beomgyu is, and Soobin knows that he’s better than just someone to seek out in the name of convenience. He doesn’t mean to sound a bit inflated, but Soobin has a lot of words when it comes to Beomgyu. Whether or not they’re the words Beomgyu wants to hear or not, Soobin has a lot.

With a seemingly endless supply like that, it was easy to deliver on what Beomgyu was looking for. So now, Soobin has to ask: what’s changed? And if everything’s changing, does that mean they’ll have to change too?

“Why? Jealous?” Beomgyu sticks his tongue out childishly as he asks, lips pursed and wrinkled around the tip of his tongue. His eyes are scrunched shut too, and he shakes his head for extra emphasis before dropping his chin back onto Soobin’s shoulder. “‘M starving…”

Soobin isn’t dim enough to forego the bait: Beomgyu is offering a topic change in conversation, and as much as Soobin would much rather quell his curiosity once and for all before it actually does eat him alive, he has a small, tiny, barely-there remaining shred of self-preservation.

Therefore, he takes the bait.

“I ordered that tteokbokki that you like,” he says instead of something stupid, finally, functioning normally for the first thing since he started thinking of Beomgyu tonight. “And a few other things. There’s still some Coke in the fridge, right?”

“I’d be concerned if there wasn’t,” Beomgyu snorts. “Didn’t we buy more, like, three days ago?”

“We’re all in our twenties.” And somehow, that in itself is enough of an excuse. Soobin digresses. “D’you wanna play the new game I bought while we wait?”

“Depends. Are you ready to lose?” Beomgyu snickers, but he’s shoving Soobin off the bed and situating himself comfortably like he always does when they play video games in Soobin’s room. The older takes this as a sign to get the controllers for his switch.

“I don’t think you’ve played this game before?” Soobin means for it to come out as a statement, but he’s confused about Beomgyu’s confidence, so it comes out more as a question instead. “I bought it like, four days ago? You’ve been hanging out with Yeonjun hyung lately.”

Soobin doesn’t mean for it to come out like that, but that’s what he said about approximately ten other things he’s said tonight. Evidently, he’s not thinking much about what to say, not mulling over the words for long enough in his mind before opening his mouth and letting his tongue betray him.

“Soobin hyung,” Beomgyu sing-songs, and Soobin already knows that he’s going to hate what comes out of the younger boy’s mouth before he even hears it. The tacked on hyung is already teling enough. “You’re green in the face.” Beomgyu is teasing, but Soobin wouldn’t even be surprised if his face really was green, at the moment. As green as his heart feels, as green as the sweat which starts to dampen his palms (not literally…).

Soobin expects Beomgyu to drop it after that, but when has Beomgyu ever done something which Soobin was expecting? Beomgyu can’t ever live his life normally, like he’s been doing since the day Soobin has met him, without making Soobin’s heart feel like it’s tripping over nonexistent rocks.

But maybe that was one of Soobin’s personal problems, and not necessarily Beomgyu’s fault.

“I think it was two days ago? You had to go to vocal training for a few hours and I was bored. So I came into your room because I wanted to try and get on Odi’s good side again, and I saw a new game.”

That’s breaking and entering, Soobin thinks. He says that much, too. He lets Beomgyu know. Yet another mix-match of words which leave his mouth before he has time to think it over strategically.

“That’s breaking and entering.”

Soobin has to look down at Beomgyu now, since he’s watching the way Beomgyu’s wide, deep, brown eyes are looking up at him from where he’s still sitting on his bed. Soobin is standing next to it, looming above Beomgyu, and not taking a seat like a normal person because he’s trying to decipher why Beomgyu is looking at him like this.

And then, Beomgyu grins. Wide, unabashed, and everything else Soobin didn’t know he loved as much as he does until right now, actually.

At this very moment, standing above Beomgyu with his switch in his hands, looking down at his bandmate’s pretty eyes, even prettier smile, and prettiest hair… Soobin loves.

Loves, loves, and loves. He doesn't know exactly what he loves, but he doesn’t think he needs to. Looking at Beomgyu, and knowing he loves, is somehow enough for him.

Or maybe he tells himself that it’s enough, because his brain might short circuit if he dares to think about the implications of the warm and new feeling flooding his chest right in front of the source himself.

“Are you calling me a criminal?” Beomgyu sounds happy as he asks. He sounds like Beomgyu, and Soobin… 

“Shut up.” … Doesn’t know how to be Soobin around Beomgyu now that he loves. Not that he never loved Beomgyu before this, but that was love. That was Soobin’s love for his friend, his friend turned best friend, his best friend turned bandmate, his bandmate turned soulmate. This, now, is Choi Soobin’s love for Choi Beomgyu. “You’re a felon.”

It’s weak. Beomgyu knows this too. But he does nothing but smile wider, and pat the bed, Soobin’s bed, next to him. Soobin sits down, hands Beomgyu one controller, and loads the game up on the screen.

Soobin loves Beomgyu, and Beomgyu has the prettiest hair Soobin has ever seen.

Soobin loves Beomgyu, and Beomgyu is going to eat dinner with him tonight.

Soobin loves Beomgyu, and Beomgyu doesn’t know that Soobin had just come to the realization with the help of Choi Yeonjun, of all people, in the form of their eldest hogging his best friend all to himself.

And Soobin thinks Beomgyu is never, ever going to find out, either.

»«

Then, Soobin somehow manages to make himself forget about his realization for the next, multiple months. He thinks he deserves an award for that on top of all the end of the year awards they’ve managed to rack up because yeah, it’s been that long since that one sticky summer night.

Beomgyu’s hair isn’t even long enough to tie up into a ponytail anymore, and while Beomgyu is happy to not have the back of his neck sweating all the time, Soobin had in fact embarrassedly mourned the loss of Beomgyu’s long, silky, smooth black hair.

Now Beomgyu bounces around with pretty chestnut hair, still a bit long, and Soobin finds that while his mourning had been very well justified, he still loves this hair a lot too. Once again, it’s just because Soobin loves Beomgyu, and this is nothing if not just another sign of that.

He’s been picking up on those too, by the way. Signs, that is. Tucked into the corner of his mind, rotting in the darkness because he refuses to shed any more light onto those thoughts, not during a precarious time like this.

Precarious as in, there are a lot of things happening now. Not necessarily regarding their music, though he supposes that things related to their music are always happening, but also more in the sense that there are a lot of schedules going on: solo, duo, group… 

And as the leader, Soobin tells himself that there is just no time to indulge in things which aren’t at least marginally related to work. And while he could argue that anything in regards to Beomgyu is related to work, in the way that they are coworkers, in a sense, he chooses not to. He actively ignores that, since the topic at hand should not, under any circumstance, be discussed if Soobin was going to think of Beomgyu as merely his coworker.

Beomgyu (all of them) has always been more than that. And Soobin uses that rationale to explain why he’s let the better part of half a year go by without bringing up the absolute whirlwind of emotions which Beomgyu creates in his heart.

It’s easier that way, anyways. Soobin thinks that if he can pretend like he doesn’t actually absolutely love it when Beomgyu makes a stupid face and makes his voice sound all types of weird in an attempt to act cute, then he’ll one day grow immune to it.

It’s not good for either Soobin or Beomgyu if he keeps this up: Soobin, for obvious reasons, because he’s been letting Beomgyu off the hook far too often with more and more things as of lately. Beomgyu, because he’s been catching onto things too. And maybe this is just yet another reason of Soobin’s, but the point still stands: if Beomgyu catches onto things, Soobin is going to start thinking of the numerous ways he can continue in life without Choi Beomgyu by his side.

Which will be all sorts of futile, useless, and a waste of time, because the general consensus since the beginning of time is that Soobin absolutely cannot , and will not live happily without Choi Beomgyu, the literal personification of everything Soobin thinks is wonderful in the world, by his side. 

Preferably in his arms too. Soobin wants to run his nose along his scalp too, because while he had used to do that closer to when their group was freshly debuted and they didn’t know how to handle their emotions all too well yet (resulting in a lot of emotional support hugs), he wants to do it now, in present time, when he knows Beomgyu’s hair won’t smell of sweat and the aftermath of not washing his scalp for two to four days.

Anyways, in more present matters which are beginning to send Soobin spiralling: Beomgyu is, in fact, catching onto things. It’s like a nightmare personified, and Soobin can do nothing but watch, frozen at the sidelines and stuck as the audience. The more he thinks of it like that, the more he realizes it kind of resembles an ‘awake version’ of Beomgyu’s sleep paralysis. And then Soobin also realizes that everything, seemingly, must come back to Beomgyu in his brain in order for his mind to form any coherent thought, and he starts spiralling all over again.

Which leads him to right now:

“Beomgyu-yah, I get it,” Soobin hums, not even sparing the younger boy a glance as he continues on with his morning. It’s Saturday, for crying out loud, and there’s nothing on the schedule until late afternoon, so Soobin has been hoping for even a smidge of time alone to gather his own thoughts and feelings before braving the day.

He does not end up getting that smidge of time. Mainly because he forgot that Beomgyu has been sleeping early, and resultantly waking up earlier than he used to. Soobin is used to Beomgyu walking out of his room like a zombie, half asleep, fifteen minutes before they were supposed to go anywhere. But that was what it was like a couple months ago, and now Soobin faces Beomgyu being one of the first people to wake up, ready to brave the day with that smile which Soobin loves more than he’s willing to admit.

“Okay, Beomgyu,” Soobin hums once again, and if he’s being really honest, he’s not even registering what Beomgyu is saying. Despite the younger’s sweet voice, his gentle tone, and the addictive, scratchy, somewhat deep intonation of his voice, Soobin can’t really focus on words enough to give them a meaning,

He’s too busy thinking about how Beomgyu’s hair looks like a bird’s nest.

A perk which had come from Beomgyu’s long, black hair was that it wasn’t dyed: therefore, it wasn’t fried, and didn’t stick up in weird positions whenever he tried to rest his head somewhere. 

The same cannot be said for right now: his chestnut hair is matted a bit on the back of his head, and his bangs are sticking up near the top of his head. Beomgyu desperately looks like he needs a hairbrush, at the very least some water on his hair, and Soobin is hit with the sudden urge to do nothing more than tend to Beomgyu and take care of the mess on his head for him.

Which is simply not feasible right now, since Soobin is trying to eat breakfast, Beomgyu has yet to eat breakfast, and he can’t necessarily act on all of his selfish, romantic, and indulgent impulses on a Saturday morning while they’re trying to eat breakfast.

With each passing day, Soobin can feel his resolve crumbling. This is one of the days he feels it tenfold.

“Beomgyu-yah, be quiet. Hueningie and Taehyun-ah are still asleep,” Soobin sighs, turning around finally, a ceramic bowl secured in his hands. The only thing left to worry about is dancing around Beomgyu as he reaches for the cereal itself, and the milk from the fridge.

What he sees when he turns around though, is Beomgyu pouting up at him with his face still swollen with sleep. His cheeks still have that subtle, pink, warm flush from a good night’s rest, and Soobin kind of wants to pinch his cheeks. And then maybe kiss them.

Soobin blinks, and then remembers that they’re in the kitchen. He steps around Beomgyu, and reaches for the handle of another overhead cabinet.

“Soob, do you wanna eat lunch together?” Beomgyu might have been asking him this question the entire time he's been speaking, for all Soobin knows. But this is the first time it’s registered in his brian, and he almost trips over his own socked feet the moment it does. “There’s this new place on the delivery app, it’s kimchi jiggae—”

“Beomgyu-yah—”

“Soobin if you’re going to tell me to be quiet, I’m going to yell really loudly."

Taken aback by the sudden, serious statement, Soobin turns back around to look at Beomgyu without even getting his cereal.

“What?” he asks dumbly, taking in how Beomgyu’s face is now scrunched: eyebrows furrowed, lips jutting into a tiny pout, compared to the small and sleepy smile he’d been sporting not even a minute ago.

“Am I annoying?” Beomgyu’s question is blunt, but Soobin’s eyes still widen almost comically fast as his tongue scrambles inside of his mouth to deny the other’s claim.

“No,” he ends up saying, instead of the garbled mess that’d been producing itself on his tongue. “Where is that coming from?” Beomgyu ignores the question.

“Then why are you telling me to shut up?” Technically, Soobin didn’t tell Beomgyu to shut up. He had just asked him to be quiet, multiple times, and okay, he kind of understands how those two things mean the same thing since he repeated it too much.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t know how to answer Beomgyu’s question. Because there is no easy way to say, “Telling you to be quiet is safer than potentially giving into my impulses and kissing you.” 

So, he doesn’t.

“Stop being silly, Beomgyu-yah,” Soobin brushes off, and he definitely does regret it the moment the words fall from his mouth. Definitely not the smartest thing to say, and Soobin is smacked in the face with the fact when he sees all traces of previous playfulness fall off of Beomgyu’s face: now instead hardened into something more serious.

“Soobin hyung.” Soobin winces, all amusement gone from Beomgyu’s face. “Did I do something to upset you? You’ve been weirder the past few days.”

See, that’s something Soobin can appreciate about Beomgyu: the way he absolutely does not let things drag on longer than they need to. Between the two of them, if  Beomgyu is the one to notice something, then it’s more than likely that he’ll do something about it. Comparatively, Soobin will wallow and lose himself in his own mind and thoughts as he waits for the universe to do something instead (like send signals to Beomgyu, and have Beomgyu address things). 

It seems like that’s what’s happened right now.

“Everything’s fine, Beomie,” Soobin assures, even if he doesn’t feel fine. Soobin feels the farthest thing from fine, honestly, with the way Beomgyu is looking at him like he’s done something wrong, like he wants to take responsibility, is expecting to take responsibility, for the way Soobin feels, and the way he’s been acting. Which is the last thing he wants Beomgyu to do, honestly—this was Soobin’s own issue.

Wanting to smell Beomgyu’s hair and kiss him and hold him close and tell him that he loves—

That's something Soobin needs to sort out on his own. And he’s known that, had always told himself that it’d be best to sort his feelings and thoughts out before things got out of hand, and before Beomgyu got an air of something shifting in the way Soobin behaves with him.

Quite obviously, despite all of that, he’s too late.

“Nothing’s fine, hyung!” Beomgyu insists, his voice raising in volume and okay, that takes Soobin back a bit. It must show, since Beomgyu proceeds to shrink in on himself a bit as he takes in Soobin’s widened eyes. “You’re being weird, and I don’t like it. It feels like you’re hiding something from me, and if you are, then you don’t even have to tell me! Just stop acting like you’d rather be anywhere except in a room with me.”

Soobin watches, helpless, as Beomgyu becomes more and more worked up with every word leaving his mouth. Clearly, Beomgyu has been noticing things for longer than Soobin had thought, if he’s sounding like he’s been holding in all of this for a while.

At a loss of what to say, horribly, Soobin says the only thing he can. “Beomgyu—”

“If you’re just going to make up an excuse, I don’t want to listen to it, hyung,” Beomgyu bites back, effectively cutting Soobin off. When a couple of seconds go by with Soobin’s mouth clamped shut and Beomgyu expectantly waiting, just to deflate as the seconds keep ticking, Soobin somehow manages to feel even worse. “Hyung…”

The air is awkward between them, something it hasn’t been since the first time they met, probably. It’s a horrible tension, thick and uncomfortable as it settles into the crevices between their bodies. It makes Soobin feel like he’s frozen in place, rendering him unsure of how to act in this unfamiliar environment.

He doesn’t know if the sound of footsteps approaching them makes anything better or worse.

Though, when he sees that it’s Yeonjun, of all people, who’s making his way over, one eye closed while the other is being rubbed under a fist, Soobin thinks that this is, in fact, somehow worse.

Even more so when it seems like Yeonjun doesn’t even notice Soobin. He isn’t looking straight, relying on his memory of the layout of the apartment to bring him to the kitchen. And once he’s here, he only looks to the left, where Beomgyu is standing.

“G’morning, bear,” Yeonjun greets sleepily, and while that was fine, that was normal, Soobin expected a good morning greeting, what he did not expect was for Yeonjun to follow his greeting with a kiss.

A warm, soft, and small kiss pressed right onto the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth, where his skin is a bit patchy since he hasn’t washed up yet. Clearly, Beomgyu wasn’t expecting it either, since Soobin watches in real time as Beomgyu’s eyes widen as quickly as Soobin feels his own eyes widen.

“Bear?” Yeonjun mumbles, seemingly confused at the lack of response to his greeting. Soobin blinks, his eyes naturally fall downwards, and he sees that Yeonjun also has an arm thrown casually around Beomgyu’s waist. An arm which looks like it belongs there. Which looks comfortable there. “Beomgyu?”

The call of his name seems to finally do the trick, since Beomgyu blinks rapidly after hearing his name fall from Yeonjun’s lips. He whips his head around, finally sparing Yeonjun a look. Then, he looks at Soobin. And Yeonjun again. And Soobin. Then Yeonjun, then Soobin, then Yeonjun again, and then Soobin again—

Until Yeonjun finally realizes that it wasn’t just Beomgyu in the kitchen. Yeonjun confusedly follows Beomgyu’s eyes, and sees that Soobin is standing right in front of them, looking at them with big eyes, and an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yeonjun hyung—” It’s Beomgyu who speaks, but it’s Soobin who jerks into motion.

“I have to wake up Huening.” No, he doesn’t. They don’t have anywhere to be for hours, but it’s the first thing his mind supplied him with, so now he has to roll with it. “And shower.”

Soobin walks out of the kitchen before anything more can be said or done, and he thinks he sees Beomgyu try to take a step in his direction out of peripheral. Key word is try, because it seems like Yeonjun is holding him back with that same arm he has wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist.

Soobin doesn’t see it, because he absolutely refuses to turn around, but he can feel Yeonjun’s eyes boring into the back of his skull. Probably something which came from knowing Yeonjun for as long as he has, for being as close to Yeonjun as he is.

Despite all of that, despite knowing that he’s known Yeonjun for a long time, despite knowing that he’s close to Yeonjun, Soobin still has to wonder…

If he knows Yeonjun, if he’s close to Yeonjun, how come he didn’t know about… Whatever it is, which is seemingly going on between him and Beomgyu?

Though, he supposes that he’s giving himself less credit than it’s due, if he’s asking the question like that: he knew there was something. Dating all the way back to last year, when the weather was sticky and humid outside, Soobin remembers wallowing in his own head about how Beomgyu seemed to be glued to Yeonjun’s side at all hours of the day. Like siamese twins, or something equally as codependent.

Soobin guesses he knew, all this time. He just didn’t… Know.

Soobin had assumptions, ones which he pushed to the back of his mind because entertaining all of his creative thoughts wasn’t what he wanted to do, especially because they had no foundation. They were exactly just that: thoughts from his creative imagination. It seemed weird to speculate about two of the people he was closest to, so after some time Soobin gave it a rest and instead focused his attention on how he was going to ignore the violent feeling of love Beomgyu evoked in his heart.

Which leads him… Here, he supposes.

Soobin doesn’t even walk to Huening and Taehyun’s room, or the bathroom: he walks straight into his own, and continues to pretend like he can’t feel Yeonjun’s stare.

“What did you do that for?” Beomgyu asks as soon as the door to Soobin’s bedroom closes behind the owner. He turns to look at Yeonjun properly for the first time this morning, and finds that although he wants to swipe away at the annoying smudge of toothpaste on the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth, he doesn't. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest, and gives Yeonjun a pointed look: his eyebrows are a bit furrowed in the middle of his forehead, and he’s scowling. Though, Yeonjun would say it’s closer to a pout, than a scowl.

“Didn’t see him,” Yeonjun shrugs, stepping around Beomgyu. He lets the younger go, and picks up the bowl Soobin had left on the counter. Since Soobin wasn’t going to make use of it, Yeonjun figures he should.

But just as he’s about to reach for the same overhead cupboard Soobin was trying to open, Beomgyu’s scoff rings through the otherwise empty kitchen.

“You didn’t see him,” he repeats. Yeonjun spares him a glance over his shoulder, just to see Beomgyu leaning against the fridge, still looking as unhappy as he was when Yeonjun first saw him all but five minutes ago. “You just happened to not see Soobin, who is one-hundred and eighty-five centimetres tall?”

“Gyu-yah, it’s not that big of a deal,” Yeonjun placates, but does a terrible job at it, since Beomgyu only stomps up to him, looking all the more upset with the deep frown on his face, lines on his forehead. “And don’t do that, you’ll get wrinkles faster,” Yeonjun tsks, bringing his thumb up to smooth over Beomgyu’s forehead.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu snaps, or at least tries to. He’s not as loud, but he does look the part. He also smacks Yeonjun’s hand off his forehead, and that makes Yeonjun sigh.

“Listen, you’re supposed to tell him soon anyways, right? It just so happened that Soobin saw something straight out of his nightmares,” he shrugs, trying to quell an obviously distressed Beomgyu. This time though, Beomgyu doesn’t try to stop him from reaching for the cereal. “If this isn’t incentive enough for you to get it together, then hyung doesn’t know what is, Beomgyu. After sucking it up, everything else will fall into place later.”

“Soobin does not have nightmares about us,” Beomgyu insists. And then, “This wasn’t accounted for,” he mumbles from behind Yeonjun. He suddenly sounds much closer than he was before, and then Yeonjun feels the younger’s forehead fall between his shoulder blades as an answer. Beomgyu feels warmer, now that he’s pressed against him from behind. “Yeonjun hyung…”

“Look, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun sighs, turning around against the counter after having poured his cereal into the bowl. When he’s facing Beomgyu again, the latter is looking at him with a gentler, less agitated expression on his face. Now, he looks more sad than anything else, the corners of his lips pulled down naturally as his big eyes look up at him. “Don’t get all upset over it, okay? It’s just Soobinnie, and we already talked about how this stupid tango between you two was supposed to come to a stop eventually, hm? So stop frowning, bear.”

Yeonjun emphasizes his point by bringing both of his hands up to Beomgyu’s face, each of them cupping one of Beomgyu’s cheeks as his thumbs push the corner of his lips up. It works only a little, and Beomgyu’s lips do eventually twitch upwards on their own.

“Bears rip humans apart, y’know,” he mumbles, earning nothing but a tsk from Yeonjun. “This is also scary, by the way,” he adds after a couple seconds. Beomgyu isn’t looking at Yeonjun anymore, since his eyes are closed. But there’s a conflicted look on his face which Yeonjun doesn’t particularly like looking at. Beomgyu’s hands also come up to hold each of Yeonjun’s wrists, pressing his hands firmer into cupping his face. “Will you bring me tissues when Soobin inevitably rejects my feelings in cold blood?”

“I already have my room loaded with as many boxes as you need,” Yeonjun assures quietly, despite knowing that Beomgyu won’t need them. He wishes Beomgyu could see what he sees—he wishes Soobin could see what he sees too. Yeonjun doesn’t think he’s ever met people as selfless and blind as the two of them. “And you know he’s not going to reject you, Gyu-yah.”

“You don’t know that,” Beomgyu whispers, frowning. He finally opens his eyes, and then smiles gently once he realizes how close his and Yeonjun’s faces are. He leans in closer, Yeonjun thinks Beomgyu is going to do something Beomgyu (stupid, uncalled for, questionable) and kiss him or something. But instead, Beomgyu swipes his tongue over the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth, and collects the toothpaste which has been drying there. It’s still something Beomgyu. “Okay, Yeonjun hyung.”

»«

If Soobin decides that he’s happy for his friends being happy with each other, then so be it (they start to learn choreography for their comeback).

If Soobin is a terrible person, then so be it (Soobin makes an impromptu, unplanned, totally motivated visit to the studio when he knows Beomgyu is on VLIVE).

If Soobin tries to nip his feelings in the bud, then so be it (not as easy as it sounds. Also, they finished recording the album).

And all of that brings him here: if Choi Soobin comes to the conclusion that there is no moving on from this, then so be it (Beomgyu keeps looking at him like he’s waiting for something).

What Beomgyu is waiting for, Soobin doesn’t know. He also likes to pretend like he’s too busy with work, busy with preparing for their album, comeback, promotions, that he doesn’t have enough time to stop and think about it.

Which is annoying because it’s bullshit, Soobin knows. If Beomgyu has the time to wait during the hectic chaos of their preparations, then the least Soobin has enough time for is a glance his way.

But again, if Soobin is a terrible person, so be it. He doesn’t think he can look at Beomgyu for too long without thinking about what he saw—what he’s been seeing, what he keeps seeing—between him and Yeonjun.

Soobin is not sixteen anymore. He’s well into being an adult, a mature (okay?) one, which can deal with his problems (well…) and address conflicts accordingly (no, that’s Beomgyu’s job). So he doesn’t know why he’s acting like a prepubescent teen who isn’t in control of his feelings. It’s not like he needs to be tethered to Beomgyu in order to function, because they’re soulmates, not incapictated without each other.

Or at least, that’s what Soobin thinks until the horrible, absolutely dreadful realization dawns upon him that he is incapacitated without Beomgyu around. Emotionally incapacitated, at that, because Soobin can go about his day-to-day just fine. The problem lies in having conversations and behaving like an actual human being during his day-to-day life, and not a zombie. 

That’s where and when Soobin realizes Beomgyu has always been there, like how gum always stubbornly sticks to the bottom of your shoe, reminding Soobin that first and foremost, he’s a person.

It’s funny, because they usually take turns when it comes to that: during debut, Beomgyu had to remind Soobin of that. One year into their career, Soobin had to keep reminding Beomgyu of that. During the rise of their biggest album, they had to remind each other. And now, it’s back to being Beomgyu’s turn to remind Soobin, except he’s not here.

Because he’s waiting. And for the first time in forever, he isn’t waiting by Soobin’s side.

Maybe it’s a sign. Actually, Soobin will take it as a sign—or a wake up call. Beomgyu isn’t waiting next to him, but his eyes keep looking at him, finding him, and they’re borderline begging him to come closer.

Soobin has known Beomgyu for longer than he thought he would when he first met the boy, all those years ago. It’s because he’s spent almost every waking hour of every single day together with Beomgyu that he can read the look in his eyes clearly when he finally does bite the bullet, and spare the Beomgyu he loves a glance: it’s your turn, Choi Soobin. I’m waiting.

God, Soobin is (encore) a terrible person.

Soobin is internally debating his dubious morality when it comes to Choi Beomgyu, and said Choi Beomgyu has red hair. What has the world come to? When will Beomgyu’s hair stop being the acute reason behind Soobin wanting to yell into his hands and then cry because what the hell else is he supposed to do when Beomgyu always manages to look so!

So… Pretty. So much like he doesn’t know what he’s doing just by looking at Soobin, just by existing next to Soobin. Near Soobin. In the same elliptical as Soobin.

Soobin will give Beomgyu the benefit of the doubt and say that he probably doesn’t. Because if he did, there’s no way Beomgyu is sadistic enough to torture Soobin by sitting right next to him: thighs touching, arms liked, their hands clasped together. In front of dozens of cameras, and staff members alike.

Well. Given his track record, maybe Beomgyu is sadistic. Once again proven in present time with the way Beomgyu helps him put on stupid, ugly, blue plastic jewellery.

Soobin well and truly debates the very real consequences of bursting into a fit of uncontrollable tears right then and there, in front of hundreds of thousands of people. Risk: humiliation. Reward: liberation. Rhyme: there isn’t any, not really (Soobin’s fucking sanity). Reason: Choi Beomgyu.

And maybe Choi Yeonjun, too, if he really wants to go there. Which he will, by the way. Because filming has already ended, the cameras are off, the staff members are beginning to clean up, so why, why does Yeonjun find the need to coo at an ungodly volume about how Beomgyu looks just like—

“A cranberry!” As if Soobin didn’t already know—of course he knows! His room is right next to Beomgyu’s room, Beomgyu is quite literally the first thing Soobin sees after stepping outside into the real world six out of seven mornings of the week.

Berry berry Beomgyu, Soobin’s brain provides. Shut the fuck up, he thinks back in reply. God, he’s gotten to the point where he’s having conversations in his head about his demise—Soobin needs to take action, and he needs to do so immediately. Preferably before he drives himself a metaphoric and literal wall.

“At least cranberry is more original than strawberry, or something,” Beomgyu humours, cupping his face prettily and doing some disgusting excuse of aegyo (which Soobin takes very personally, by the way, since Beomgyu’s natural aegyo is eons more effective than whatever the fuck Hueningkai is teaching him behind closed doors—the stuff Hueningkai pulls out of his ass only works for Hueningkai, as it is). “Choi Beomgyu was born pretty.”

That, Soobin can attest to. Not that he’s seen a whole lot of Beomgyu when he was born, but the statement is just something that makes sense.

“Yeah, yeah. I already told you that enough times within the past hour,” Yeonjun tuts, and Soobin has half the mind to ask him why he bothered buttering Beomgyu up on camera if he wasn’t going to outwardly agree and shower Beomgyu with praises about how absolutely fucking stunning he looks all the time—

Until he realizes that he is the one being absolutely fucking unreasonable, and that not everyone thinks about Beomgyu’s beauty as deeply and innately as he does. Which is a shame, really, but Soobin won’t get into that for now. Because if he does, then he’s going to have to think about how Yeonjun had gone out of his way multiple times during their broadcast to speak his thoughts out loud. “Beomgyu, why are you so pretty?”, “Seriously, you’re pretty.”

Which absolutely anyone can see, even Soobin thought so as well, and he’s sure Taehyun and Kai had the same thoughts, because you’d have to be blind to not see. But he doesn’t remember anyone else laying it on thick.

Soobin is getting off track here. Back to the point—cranberry, right? Yeah, Beomgyu’s hair is red, and Soobin realizes that he’s literally going further and further off the rails as the seconds tick by. Whether it’s because Beomgyu’s hair is red, he’s not too sure. Although, there is a very real possibility which he will not dismiss. When it comes to Beomgyu’s hair, Soobin has long since accepted that he can’t put anything past himself.

It’s horrifying, really.

There are two cars waiting for them to take them back to the dorm, like there always is. Before Yeonjun can even think of opening his mouth and somehow, probably, snagging one car for just himself and Beomgyu, Soobin finally puts his foot down. In the kindest way he can, of course, because Yeonjun is still his hyung, or whatever. No matter how much Soobin wanted to snap at him, not even forty minutes prior.

“Beomgyu-yah, let’s go together,” he says, states, announces, loud enough for the other three to hear, and their managers, and their staff. And to think Soobin labels himself as soft spoken—he is! Just not when Choi Beomgyu and his own sanity are on the line. It’s why he tacks on a sheepish, meek, “… If you’d like.”

And who was Soobin kidding, of course Beomgyu would like that. Something like this is what Beomgyu has been waiting for this whole time. Which makes Soobin feel like chewing on glass would be less painful than what he’s about to do.

Because there’s no way he and Beomgyu can talk when there’s a manager in the car with them. No matter how close they are, he knows Beomgyu won’t appreciate this discussion being privy to ears that don’t belong to either of them.

“Are you tired?” Soobin asks once they’re both strapped into their seats.

Beomgyu shakes his head. “I could sleep, but it’s not that bad. Why?”

Soobin forgoes answering Beomgyu’s question in lieu of leaning forward in his seat to make sure their manager can hear him. “Schedule is clear for the rest of the night, isn’t it?” Soobin knows the answer, of course he does, but he also knows that this is the best way to prompt this type of conversation. When their manager nods, Soobin puts on his best charming act, despite him being positively sure that all of their charms have long stopped working magic and persuading their team. “Then, can we go to Paris Baguette? I haven’t had bread in like, two weeks.”

“You want bread?” Beomgyu asks, and Soobin almost immediately shakes his head no when he hears how dejected the younger sounds. Once again, chewing glass would be less painful. Soobin has half the mind to rip his tongue out of his mouth so that he doesn’t say anything else that’d deject Beomgyu ever again for the rest of his life, idol singing career be damned.

“Yeah,” Soobin smiles, and he himself knows that it comes out strained. This isn’t a smiling matter, but Soobin is trying to evade as much suspicion as possible. “I’ll buy you whatever you like for accompanying me.” 

It doesn’t soothe Beomgyu, but it does keep him silent for the rest of the drive. Which Soobin doesn’t like, not really, because it takes a lot to actually get Beomgyu to be quiet. And if Soobin’s minimal detour to a bakery is what it took tonight, Soobin knows he’s running on borrowed time. And patience, probably.

Now Soobin is the one who’s doing the waiting. Waiting until they’re at the bakery, waiting until their manager drives off because Soobin insists that they’ll be there for a while and that he can come back later to pick them up, waiting for the car to turn the corner and for them to be alone.

And once they finally are, Soobin throws an arm around Beomgyu’s shoulders so as to not look suspicious, and like they’re doing something they’re not supposed to (which they are. And Soobin, being the godforsaken leader that he is, knows that a bit too well).

“What are you doing?” Beomgyu asks, and Soobin feels a bit bad when he hears the nervous tinge to his voice. Beomgyu hasn’t sounded nervous around him in ages. The sound makes Soobin want to step on Yeonjun’s lego, or something. “And where are we going?”

“We should… Talk, shouldn’t we?” Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. No, it’s definitely the wrong thing to say, because Beomgyu begins squirming under his arm, clearly trying to wriggle away. But Soobin is still mindful, because although it’s dark outside, and the streets aren’t nearly as busy as they could be, they’re not alone. Soobin can’t risk it, especially after lying to their manager about going to a bakery (seriously, the things Choi Beomgyu makes him do…), so he lets Beomgyu go rather easily—against his will by the way—before they can attract anybody’s attention.

“I don’t want to,” Beomgyu blurts out once there’s two feet of space between them. Which is abysmal, if Soobin is being honest, because since when did Beomgyu feel the need to sanction their personal bubbles? As if he wasn’t the one who was acting like he’d die if he wasn’t in physical contact with Soobin in front of an audience, barely two hours ago.

“You don’t want to?” Soobin repeats, sounding disbelieving because he is disbelieving. He knows Beomgyu wants to talk, because he knows Beomgyu like the back of his hand. And Beomgyu knows him like the back of his hand too, so Soobin is going to need the both of them to stop beating around the bush. Preferably before he implodes, or before Beomgyu does something crazy like dye his hair again and send Soobin spiralling. Again. “Yes you do.”

“No.” But of course, Beomgyu isn’t going to make it easy. Soobin knows him, which is why he knows that even if this conversation is something important to Beomgyu, he’s going to torture him before anything else. At this point, being the bane of Soobin’s existence (endearingly) is like second nature to Beomgyu. Likewise, playing along with Beomgyu and morally being unable to deny the love of his life (he’s being serious, by the way) is second nature to Soobin.

“You’ve been waiting,” Soobin counters, as if that in itself is enough of an explanation. It should be. It better be. Actually, it is. Soobin sees it in the way Beomgyu glares at him. Openly irritated by the fact that Soobin can read him like a book, written in the language that is Choi Beomgyu. Soobin is pretty sure that’s his first language, and not Korean. Or, he just really, really needs to talk to Beomgyu before he comes to any other crazed conclusions. Not being on the same page as Beomgyu is messing with the chemicals in his brain. Direly.

“So? I can wait longer,” Beomgyu putantly argues, turning a sharp corner which Soobin has no choice but to follow and take too.

“Well, I can’t wait longer,” Soobin says back, and then backtracks immediately. He probably can wait, he just can’t promise that it won’t make him volatile. So, he rephrases: “I don’t want to make you wait, either. Not any longer.”

Now, that seems to be the right thing to say. See, Soobin can get the hang of this!

Beomgyu’s pace slows down, his strides no longer unnecessarily long and wide as they fall back into step with each other. Soobin doesn't know where they are at this point, all he knows is that it’s far from Paris Baguette. If Soobin were in a more sane state of mind, he’d tell Beomgyu they need to make their way back to somewhere familiar immediately. But he’s not in a sane state of mind, and it’s all Beomgyu’s fault because he’s looking at him like he knows what Soobin wants to say.

It’s not a longshot, by any means. Soobin thinks he knows what Beomgyu wants to say too, only because the look in Beomgyu’s eyes reminds Soobin so heavily of the look he sees in his own eyes when he’s staring at his reflection in the mirror, brushing his teeth, and thinking of Beomgyu. Because if Soobin doesn’t spend every waking minute of every single day thinking about Beomgyu, he’ll shut down, or something. Naturally. 

“In an alleyway?” 

Soobin raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t want to take you to an alleyway, you’re the one who started walking out of nowhere.”

Beomgyu, at least, has the audacity to look sheepish. Maybe even embarrassed, if his pink ears say anything. “Sorry, hyung.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Soobin rolls his eyes, and then clears his throat. He fixes Beomgyu with a stare and feels like he’s about to throw up. “Just… Listen, okay?”

“What if I wanted to go first?” Of course Beomgyu isn’t going to just listen, how foolish of Soobin to think so. Soobin is literally on the verge of passing out, in the midst of a cold sweat, and Beomgyu doesn’t seem to have any regard for it at all—Soobin is not surprised. Honestly, he should have known to ask if Beomgyu wanted to go first.

Despite knowing very well that— “You don’t want to go first. You never want to go first when we talk about something serious.”

Honest to God, Beomgyu scowls at his words. “Don’t act like you know me.”

“I do know you—I know you better than you know yourself!”

Beomgyu looks unsure, Soobin is sure he’s faking it, and so the latter is left with no choice but to flaunt his knowledge just so that Beomgyu will believe him: “I know you… I know you like me, Beomgyu. And… And I know you’re acting like this because you’re afraid of this conversation even though you’ve been waiting to have it for weeks—”

“What the hell, Soobin! Shut up!” Beomgyu yelps, looking around the dark, empty alleyway as if anyone would ever be around to hear them—they’re quite literally in the middle of nowhere. If Soobin was more aware of their surroundings, he’d even acknowledge how creepy this place was. But he’s busy staring at Beomgyu, looking at his eyes wide in alarm. “Why would you say that out loud, are you fucking crazy—”

“Because I like you too?” Soobin finds himself blurting, realizing terribly late that it comes out like an obvious statement because he’s trying to win an argument against Beomgyu right now. Of course when Soobin means to confess his feelings for the first time ever, all of his plans are ruined: he’s in a gross alleyway, he’s arguing (?) with Beomgyu, and it’s starting to get cold. And there’s no fucking Paris Baguette in sight.

Quite effectively, his confession shuts Beomgyu up. And unlike in the car, where Soobin had wanted to bury himself in a pile of garbage when he realized he had made Beomgyu shut up, now he just feels the tiniest bit smug.

It is not the right time to feel that way, no, but he does. And he wants to blame it all on Beomgyu’s reddening cheeks, his (slightly) windswept hair, and his… Frown?

“No you don’t,” Beomgyu states, instead of something cool like “I like you too.” Fuck Beomgyu, seriously.

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” now Soobin’s frowning. “I’ve seen you throw up after crying too hard—you threw up on my bed. I’m pretty sure I love you.”

“There’s no way puking on your bed got you to fall for me,” Beomgyu scrunches his nose, and Soobin kind of wants to bite it—but now is not the time. Soobin needs to get on the same page as Beomgyu first.

“Beomgyu-yah, don’t do that. Obviously, there’s more to it. And I’d love to tell you, after you tell me you like me back.”

“How do you even know if I like you?” Beomgyu asks haughtily. It’s probably the stupidest question Soobin has ever heard after coming to his realization and acceptance a whopping three hours ago.

“Because, I know you.” Even a week ago, Soobin would judge the truth behind this statement. But it’s easy to forget all of that when he takes a moment to remember that there’s so much weight and value to what he just said. He does know Beomgyu, knows him so well it’s almost a fault. Soobin should know other, more important things better than he knows Beomgyu. But to that, Soobin easily argues that Beomgyu is the most important. “So are you gonna tell me what you’re so scared of?”

“I’m not scared of anything!”

“You’re scared of bugs.”

“Hey… That doesn’t count,” Beomgyu pouts, and while Soobin thinks it’s cute beyond repair, he isn’t getting any closer to getting a confession out of Beomgyu. Something he knows is in there somewhere, beneath all the thoughts swirling around in the younger’s head.

“Gyu-yah,” Soobin tries a nickname this time, and hopes for the best. “You already know how I feel about you. Is something wrong?”

What Soobin doesn’t expect is the immediate agreement. “Yes,” Beomgyu nods, suddenly looking a lot more vehement and alive, and not like he was about to run in the opposite direction just to evade the conversation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Choi Soobin?”

Soobin blinks. “Confessing my feelings before I literally explode? Or like, cry or something?”

“Who said you got to do it first?”

Soobin gapes. This seriously cannot be what’s holding up hearing the three sweet, sweet words yet to fall from Beomgyu’s lips.

“Didn’t you hear me? I was about to explode,” Soobin reasons.

“And me? For claiming to love me, you sure didn’t notice how I was literally about to give up on my stupid crush because he couldn’t even hold a conversation with me for months.”

Guilty. Touché. And all of those other expressions—yeah, Beomgyu caught Soobin red handed. Back to being a terrible person. A terrible person who, for some reason, starts digging up something that’s been on his mind. If Beomgyu can lay it all out, then Soobin can too, surely.

“Because I thought you and Yeonjun hyung were a thing,” Soobin explains shortly. It’s not a good reason, he knows, but it’s a reason nonetheless. At least he acknowledges that the same way Beomgyu shouldn’t have thought of just giving up without ever saying anything to him first, he knows he shouldn’t have assumed their relationship without putting his belt on to hold his pants up and interrogate (ask) them first.

“Don’t ever insult me again, oh God, Soobin,” Beomgu wails, and for one, stricking moment, Soobin thinks Beomgyu really is going to burst into tears. Like, crocodile ones, but tears nonetheless. And Soobin has seen enough of Beomgyu crying (thank you, worldwide pandemic) to last him a lifetime. So he’d rather not bear front row witness now, yet again. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said in your life.”

Sure. Sure it is, but it’s not like Soobin pulled it out of his ass. “What else was I supposed to think when suddenly he was your first choice? Cutting me off like cold turkey after we moved dorms?"

Beomgyu fixes him with a look, as if asking, isn’t it obvious? No, it’s not. Whatever it is Beomgyu is trying to ask with his yes. “I dunno, you couldn’t have thought that we were trying to sift through my feelings? Figuring out how I need to live the rest of our career and my life knowing that Soobin doesn’t like me back?”

This time Soobin is the one who almost bursts into tears. Again. “No, Beomgyu. Who the hell would think that unprompted?”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not—I just… Want to get on the same page, okay? I like you, Beomgyu. A lot. Probably before you threw up on my bed, but I think that’s when my feelings became something I couldn’t ever take back,” Soobin explains, hoping his honesty prompts some honesty in Beomgyu as well. So far, all it prompts is that ever so addicting colour of apple-red on his cheeks.

Finally though, Soobin’s efforts seem to merit some fruit. “… Are you serious?” the younger asks carefully, sounding less like everything else he’d been sounding like for the past ten minutes. He’s more subdued now. “Like, for real? You like me in… That way?”

“Why is it so unbelievable to you? You’re acting like we didn’t sleep in the same bed almost every night when we were roommates.”

At the reminder, Beomgyu splutters. “But that’s exactly that. When we were roommates. You’ve been acting weird since we moved…”

Once again, there’s a reason. And once again, the reason isn’t the best. 

“Because you were acting weird… I just thought that maybe you were the way you were with me out of convenience, or something. Since we were already roommates anyway. And then when we got separate rooms…”

“Soobin,” Beomgyu frowns, and Soobin realizes his mistake in wording when he hears the unmasked hurt in the other’s voice. “I was like that with you because you’re… You. And when we got separate rooms, I realized that—I missed you…” Beomgyu gets quieter near the end of his words, looking up at Soobin with what the latter can decipher as embarrassment. “I missed you so much. Hearing you breathe helped me sleep at night—it’s why I have that radio. Makes it feel like someone else is in the room with me.”

Beomgyu is practically whispering at this point. Which isn’t necessary at all—they’re alone. But Soobin gets it: Beomgyu is telling him things right now that he’s never told anyone else before. It only makes sense for him to be a little reserved, a little vulnerable.

But for Beomgyu’s efforts and honesty, Soobin has to reward him. In the form of his own honesty and vulnerability, of course.

“I missed you too,” is the first thing he says. His own cheeks are now beginning to feel warm. “It’s too quiet in my room without your motor mouth.”

Beomgyu squawks. “Hey—"

“But seriously,” Soobin smiles, only a little strained. “I didn’t know you felt this way until recently. You’ve been getting closer to Yeonjun hyung, so I just assumed…”

“You could’ve asked,” Beomgyu reminds him helpfully, as if Taehyun also didn’t remind him of the same thing practically everyday.

“I could’ve,” Soobin agrees. “Which means you also could’ve asked me what was up.”

“I did. In the kitchen that morning.” It’s a vague statement, but somehow Soobin is able to remember exactly what morning Beomgyu is talking about. How could he not, with what happened in the kitchen that day…

“Yeah, the morning Yeonjun hyung kissed you. So excuse me for getting the wrong idea,” Soobin scoffs lightly, no longer frustrated as he says it out loud. Even just the thought two weeks ago would’ve made his insides coil uglily at the reminder of that event.

“You know hyung is just like that! He flirts with ninety percent of the people he sees,” Beomgyu pouts. Such a cute pout, on such a pretty pair of lips. With the cutest cheeks and the softest voice, and so maybe all of those factors are what possess Soobin to open his mouth and say—

“Well tell hyung to back off, I’m the only one who’s allowed to flirt with you from now on.” Soobin watches in real time as Beomgyu blanches, and wonders if it’s possible to pull his tongue out of his mouth, right here, right now. Or maybe gauge his eyeballs out of their sockets with his bare hands so that he doesn't have to see the mirth blooming onto Beomgyu’s face.

He already knows this is going to be painful.

“Oh my God, Choi Soobin, what the hell was that? The only thing you’re this possessive over is your ice cream! And as if hyung doesn’t smack your ass at least three times a day, what about that, huh? Y’know, I’m the only one, Choi Beomgyu, who’s allowed to touch that ass from now on. Should I go and tell Yeonjun hyung that—"

“I’m seriously about to let our first kiss be in a fucking alleyway if you don’t shut up, Beomgyu.” Almost comically fast, Beomgyu smacks both his hands onto his lips, blocking them from view and access. Even goes as far as to shake his head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

And then, Soobin does something stupid. Or maybe it’s heart-fluttering—it depends on what Beomgyu thinks, really. Since Beomgyu is the one who falls onto his knees (not the best analogy, Soobin admits with an internal wince) over romantic gestures. Their group’s resident romantic, as it is.

Soobin brings both of his hands up to cup Beomgyu’s cheeks, even over his hands. He realizes that his hands are unfairly large when on Beomgyu’s face, but he tucks that into the corner of his mind for later.

For now, he ignores all the alarm bells going off in his head about them being in public, and the small yet very plausible possibility of there being cameras around—once again, a terrible move on Soobin’s part, he knows. He’s usually very careful about these things when there isn’t, y’know, Beomgyu in front of him being cute enough to distract him.

Anyways, with both hands on Beomgyu’s cheeks, Soobin leans and pecks the spot on the back of his hands, right over where he knows the younger’s lips. After all, he knows all about Beomgyu, doesn’t he? “So, can we go home, Beomgyu? I want to kiss you for real.”

They have to run to find their way back to Paris Baguette before their manager shows up, but Soobin thinks his breathlessness is worth it when Beomgyu shyly reaches for his hand in the car, hidden underneath the jacket in Soobin’s lap.

“I like you too.”

The reciprocation finally comes when Soobin walks into his bedroom after a shower. With his hair freshly washed, clothes clean and comfortable, he’s greeted with the sight of Beomgyu laying down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Soobin nods casually, tossing his towel into the hamper. He doesn’t make his way to join Beomgyu just yet, despite the scene being all too familiar. “I pieced that together by now, Gyu.”

Maybe Beomgyu pulls a face at Soobin’s words, the latter isn’t too sure since he isn’t looking. By the time he does join Beomgyu on his bed, the younger has moved to one end completely, offering up the rest of the space to Soobin.

Soobin thinks it’s unusual, since Beomgyu usually sprawls all over the mattress like it was his own bed. But it all makes sense when the older settles down, on his back too, and Beomgyu rolls over one and a half times so that his head can rest on Soobin’s shoulder. His hand coming up to grab Soobin’s hand, and bringing it to his hair.

“Cuddle,” Beomgyu mutters, requests, commands, and Soobin is absolutely no one to say no to him. Or deny him anything, practically ever. He runs his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair, Beomgyu makes a sound which is devastatingly close to a purr, and Soobin thanks whoever the hell is up there watching over them that he gets to have this indulgent moment with the person who holds his heart in his hands.

Soobin from one year ago would laugh at present Soobin: he can’t believe he’s willingly letting Beomgyu turn him into a literal puddle of goo at his beck and call.

“Is that all you came here to do?” Soobin asks, not even suggestively. He’s genuinely curious, because maybe it’s been a bit too long since he’s had Beomgyu in his bed. Save for short, small daytime and overnight trips which barely count, it’s been forever since he’s had Beomgyu like this.

“I told you I sleep better when I’m with you,” the younger reasons, burying his face further into Soobin’s shoulder. The latter is glad he already took a shower, lest he smell like the day’s worth of sweat and grime.

“Does that mean you’ve been sleeping poorly?”

Soobin is still looking up at the ceiling, but he can feel the smirk curling onto Beomgyu’s lips. “Why? Are you gonna sleep with me every night now?”

Actually, Soobin is glad Beomgyu isn’t looking either. Because now he isn’t able to see the way his ears are flushing red at the implication. Which is an absurd reaction, since there’s nothing inherently raunchy about sharing a bed just to sleep in the first place. Maybe he’s having this reaction just because it’s Beomgyu.

“Would that be a bad thing?” he mumbles. His other arm comes up around Beomgyu. Soobin tells himself that it’s for warmth, and not so that he can keep Beomgyu’s face smothered in his clothes if the younger decides to take a peek at his face before he gets the time to neutralize it again. He’s not ready for the teasing he’ll receive upon Beomgyu seeing his lovesick idiot face up close. “And anyways… I sleep better knowing you’re around too.”

“… That was gross,” Beomgyu says after a while. He snorts too, and it might just be Soobin’s brain playing tricks on him, but he thinks Beomgyu sounds a bit breathless. “I like it.”

This time it’s Soobin’s turn to snort. “Of course you do.”

It’s silent for a while again after this. Neither of them mind, and Soobin actually finds that absentmindedly running his fingers through Beomgyu’s cranberry hair is quite therapeutic. Soobin is content to fall asleep like this, but Beomgyu disrupts the silence with an uncharacteristically small voice.

“Soob,” he calls, removing his face from Soobin’s shoulder. Their faces are really close like this, probably only a couple inches apart, and Soobin can count each and every pretty little eyelash sprouting out of Beomgyu’s eyelid.

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything after calling his name, but he also doesn’t need to. Soobin can see the way his eyes flicker down to his lips, and the way his lips part smally, automatically, as if it’s an instinct. Soobin doesn’t want to think too much about how Beomgyu’s mouth opens for him on instinct right now, so he tucks it into the back of his mind for later. Where he promises himself to get back to the observation, since he’d be a downright madman if he didn’t.

Soobins arms aren’t completely around Beomgyu’s shoulders anymore, he’s moved only his hands to stay there for purchase. Soobin can feel it, and he can see it too: before Beomgyu even leans in, Soobin knows what’s about to happen.

And he’s proven right when not even three seconds later, Beomgyu is leaning in to press the softest, closed-lipped kiss onto his mouth. It lasts a couple seconds too, before the younger leans back slowly, eyes wide and ears red.

Equally as speechless, Soobin doesn’t say anything. He does smile though, his gut swirling with something crazy stupid-cliché like butterflies, and pulls Beomgyu back in by the shoulders for another kiss. This one is closed-lipped until it isn’t: until Soobin is parting his lips to kiss Beomgyu’s lower one. Slow and affectionate, Soobin wonders if Beomgyu can taste his feelings on this tongue this way. He hopes so—that’d be so cute.

Only when Soobin hears Beomgyu make a sound—a small one that sounds as soft as that of a wounded animal—does he know to pull away. But not before sucking on Beomgyu’s lip, dragging it out gently between his own lips before he lets it go with a pop.

Their ears are red, Beomgyu’s cheeks are pink, Soobin’s breathing is a bit heavy, and then their eyes meet.

There’s a whirlwind in Beomgyu’s eyes, but Soobin can see the glow in them too. The sparkle, the shine. Like he’s finally gotten what he’s wanted after so long. Like his fingertips have finally licked the flames of the sun after reaching, reaching, and reaching. It makes Soobin wonder what Beomgyu sees in his own eyes, at this very moment.

“Soobin,” Beomgyu calls his name again, but this time it’s with his hands in Soobin’s hair, his upper body halfway on top of the other’s. “What do you like about me?”

Soobin smiles, having expected the question from Beomgyu sooner or later. He knew he said he wasn’t going to enable Beomgyu’s narcissistic behaviour all those months ago, but when it comes to this—all the jumbled up, scrambled eggs-esque feelings he has for Beomgyu—Soobin can’t help but want to start talking, and not stop for hours. Maybe he’s only an introvert when he’s not alone with Beomgyu.

In the end though, he settles for an answer that’ll please them both: not forward enough to make Beomgyu’s head too big for his shoulders, but not dull enough that it doesn’t capture the depth of Soobin’s feelings. “A lot of things. It’s written in the stars.”

Soobin smiles widely when Beomgyu groans, his evil little hand tugging at the ends of Soobin’s short hair in reprimandation. “C’mon, don’t tell me you believe in stuff like that.”

Almost a bit taken aback, Soobin raises his eyebrows at Beomgyu’s words.

“Yah, between us, you’re the romantic,” he states, to which Beomgyu grumbles noncommittally. Soobin lets a few seconds pass with neither of them saying anything before he decides to tack on, “Who cares, anyways? The only thing I really believe in is you.”

“God, that was absolutely horrible,” Beomgyu whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, scrunching his face up, and Soobin knows him well enough to recognize the actions as Beomgyu trying not to smile. Soobin has an absolute fool of a boy on top of him right now. “Kiss me now, Soobin, before I say something that’ll hurt your feelings.”

If Soobin wanted to, he could entertain all the possible things Beomgyu could say right now that’d hurt his feelings. But kissing Beomgyu seems like a more appropriate use of his time, so that’s what he decides to do.

They meet in the middle again, and Soobin can instantly tell that this kiss is different. Beomgyu isn’t kissing him like he’s a blushing virgin who’s ever felt the touch of another man before anymore, if the way he parts Soobin’s mouth open with his tongue is anything to go by. He even goes as far as to wind his arms tight around Soobin’s neck, and tilts his head to one side to make the kiss deeper.

Soobin is nothing if not eager to reciprocate, matching the younger’s pace and desire. Their kiss gets messier faster now too, and with the more frantic they’re both becoming, the more uncomfortable this position is becoming.

So Soobin takes it upon himself to slide his hands down to Beomgyu’s hips before grabbing him securely and pulling him onto his lap. Beomgyu makes a surprised sound because of the movement, their kiss momentarily broken while they readjust. Soobin sits up a bit more against the headboard of his bed, and Beomgyu brings one hand down to thumb at Soobin’s slightly swollen bottom lip.

“You know the last thing I like to do is feed your ego, but your mouth is so pretty right now,” Beomgyu mutters, not even giving Soobin a second to reply, roll his eyes, or scold Beomgyu because he’s one to talk, before he’s diving back in and kissing said pretty mouth.

With Beomgyu’s one hand cupping his cheek and the other around the nape of his neck, Soobin feels warm. So incredibly so: with their chests flush together, with their lips and tongues moulding themselves in each others’ mouths, with his concerningly fast heartbeat.

Soobin doesn’t know if Beomgyu means it—he probably does, because Beomgyu’s favourite pastime in the whole wide world is making Soobin miserable—but the younger slides even further onto his lap, aligning their hips and rubbing their half-hard crotches against each other. Soobin’s hypothesis is only proven correct when he feels Beomgyu smile into the kiss when he yelps at the abrupt contact.

“You must like me so much, Soobin,” Beomgyu pants, pulling away only a few centimetres to talk, to breathe. His lips are a similar shade of cranberry to his hair, and the sight makes Soobin pathetically dizzy. Beomgyu is so beautiful. “Since you’re already hard.”

“Says you,” Soobin grunts, clamping his hands down on Beomgyu’s hips so that he can grind his hips forward minutely into Beomgyu’s, enough for the latter to moan. “Maybe you even like me more.”

“You wish I liked you more,” Beomgyu tuts, but the effect is lost since his breath stutters, Soobin’s lips now leaving open-mouthed, wet kisses on his throat. “Well, maybe if you keep doing that I might…”

It’s something so stupid, and it’s something only Beomgyu would say when they’re in a situation like this, but Soobin’s brain still gives him no choice but to take him seriously.

So he keeps going: hot, searing kisses following down the line of his throat until the neckline of Beomgyu’s t-shirt becomes a problem. In any other situation, Soobin would take his time with moving Beomgyu’s collar aside, and sucking marks on skin where nowhere will be able to see the proof of just how much Soobin likes him.

But in this situation, Beomgyu’s hips move too impatiently against his own. And Soobin would be a liar if he said he wasn’t getting impatient too. Beomgyu is the prettiest boy in the world, he’s on his lap, and Soobin wants nothing more than to make him feel good.

“Lay down,” Soobin mumbles against his lips when he pulls his head back up. Beomgyu’s eyes are already a bit hooded, and he has to blink four times before the direction registers in his head.

And when it does, Beomgyu frowns. “But I like looking down at you.”

“Very funny,” Soobin says blandly, grabbing Beomgyu tight once more just to flip their positions swiftly. “You look better under me anyways, Beomgyu-yah. I like looking down at you.”

Beomgyu shouldn’t like hearing that as much as he does. And Soobin knows he definitely likes it by the way his breath catches, and by the way his hips buck upwards minutely. He grins, kisses Beomgyu, and then pins both of the younger’s hands down by the wrists above his head.

“Oh, don’t tell me you wanna see me squirm too,” Beomgyu pouts haughtily, doing exactly so and squirming around in Soobin’s grip. “I’m learning so much about you today, Soob.”

Soobin grunts, but doesn’t bother saying anything. He lets his body do the talking, hips coming down onto Beomgyu’s heavily.

Beomgyu’s gasps, and Soobin sees his eyes briefly roll back into his head before his eyelids flutter shut. It’s a pretty sight, Soobin concludes, Beomgyu’s face contorting in pleasure underneath him, tensing and relaxing in tandem with the way their hips are meeting.

The younger takes his lip between his teeth, and Soobin kisses him immediately when he notices. It only stays a kiss for a few seconds, before it turns into them breathing into each others’ mouths, pants and sounds of pleasure blending together between them.

“Why are you trying to be quiet now?” Soobin mumbles, looking up into Beomgyu’s shining eyes with his own hooded ones. “We all know how loud you are anyways, baby.”

This time, a not so quiet strangled sound escapes Beomgyu’s throat. It makes Soobin smile into their next kiss, his hips unrelenting, even grinding down harder just to try and pull more sounds like that out of him. “Do you like that? Baby?”

Beomgyu is embarrassed, Soobin can tell by the way he suddenly kisses him desperately. It’s an attempt to get Soobin to shut up, but the latter doesn’t take the bait that easily. Beomgyu has been tormenting him since the day they met—it’s about time Soobin exploits the upper hand he has on him, right?

“My baby,” he teases, his lips now moving to Beomgyu’s jaw. He decides to be merciful enough that Beomgyu doesn’t have to see the absolutely wicked grin on his face, despite how badly he wants to see the blushed look on Beomgyu’s face. “All mine, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu hums through a moan, his legs wrapping around Soobin’s hips because his hands can’t do much of anything. But it’s fine, because doing that brings their crotches together again, harder, tighter, hotter. They’re grinding circles against each other like this, and an excited part of Soobin feels like a feral overly hormonal teenager all over again.

“Yours,” the younger agrees once he’s able to catch some breath and find his words. He whimpers when Soobin squeezes the wrists in his hand, twisting his neck so that their mouths can meet again. “Coming, Soobin.”

Soobin groans, arousal already pooling even heavier in his gut at the mere thought of Beomgyu coming. He kisses Beomgyu hard, so hard he wonders if he’s bruised both their lips, before picking up the pace of his hips into something so desperate, dirty, and impossible. If Soobin could see himself right now, he’d probably wither away in shame for being so fucking horny.

But there’s no way you could possibly blame him, not when he has a front row seat to Beomgyu’s face crumbling as his thighs lock themselves tight around his hips.

“Soobin,” Beomgyu sobs, the end of his name bleeding off into a gasp. Soobin can see in real time what Beomgyu looks like when he comes: body tensing momentarily before he shudders gasps and moans out of his mouth, shaking like a leaf while Soobin helps him ride out the waves of his orgasm. “Ah—Soobin, fuck, fuck, I love you—”

Soobin will take what just happened to the grave with him. If anyone asks (not that anyone besides Beomgyu will), Soobin will say he came immediately to the sight of Beomgyu succumbing to his pleasure, and to the sound of his name falling off of Beomgyu’s lips. On the inside, however, Soobin knows his orgasm crashes down on him the second those three heavy words leave Beomgyu’s mouth.

I love you.

Soobin gasps too, lips wet and parted where they rest in Beomgyu’s clavicle, eyes falling shut while the most satisfying orgasm of his life runs through his body. And he hasn’t even really touched Beomgyu yet.

Somewhere along the way, his hand loosened around Beomgyu’s wrists, allowing the younger to finally bring his arms down. The movement is slow as blood travels back through Beomgyu’s limbs, from what Soobin can catch out of the corner of his eyes. Nonetheless, that doesn’t stop him from wrapping them around him and cradling Soobin’s head close, allowing the older to stay laying on his chest while they catch their breath.

They’re sweaty, and they need to step out of their soiled boxers. But Soobin decides that it’s okay to make that task wait a minute, just long enough so that he can kiss Beomgyu’s collarbone softly, and sigh happily. “I love you too, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu’s confession seems to catch up to him just now, judging by the way Soobin can quite literally feel the heat radiating off of his face and chest. And feel his heart start hammering at an alarming pace. Good, he isn’t the only one.

“Shut up, Soobin,” Beomgyu tuts, but his tone of voice is contradictory, since his lips come down onto the top of Soobin’s head right after. “Before I say something that’ll make you cry.”

Soobin smiles, there’s no way Beomgyu can’t feel it against his skin, and closes his eyes.

Soobin loves, but it’s a comforting thought this time, because Beomgyu loves back, equally.