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Dark blues and blacks blended into a veil, concealing the world from the bright, and brilliant light of the sun. The desolate night brought with it a sense of peace, a semblance of serenity floating around their dorms, tucking the young boys into bed with a drowsy spell and soft linen sheets. A soft snore came from underneath Jiung’s blanket, and Keeho mumbled in his sleep, hushed, incomprehensible words that tumbled down his lips in pauses. Taeyang rubbed at the tiredness weighing down his eyelids, and pulled the blanket off of him. His feet hit the ground. A soft thud echoed in the quiet of the room as he got up from his bed, and slowly, as silently as he could, made his way towards the door. It still creaked, even as he opened it carefully, letting himself slip through and away from his two sleeping members.
The dark hallways seemed almost eerie as he walked through them, arms crossed around his chest. The clock on the wall read 2:04 in big, bold numbers that almost hurt Taeyang’s eyes when he arrived in the kitchen.
He hadn’t been able to sleep. He had tried every position, had tried arranging his arms and legs and pillow in a certain way as to finally fall asleep, but to no avail. His body was worn down from the endless hours of practicing their choreography with almost no pauses in their company’s practice room, yet he was restless.
For hours he had tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep even once, so he had made his mind up, and had gotten up from his bed with messy sheets to head towards their shared kitchen, hoping that at one point, sleep will finally be able to claim him.
The floor creaked quietly in the silent of the night. A dark silhouette was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a long, fluffy blanket hanging from their shoulders.
"Jongseob?" Taeyang whispered.
Jongseob sniffled as he burrowed himself deeper into his blanket, looking up at Taeyang through strands of blonde hair. He looked so young, standing in the doorway, dressed from head to toe in oversized pyjamas, with messy bedhead, trailing a blanket after him. Taeyang didn’t expect to find him out of his bed.
Taeyang walked towards him slowly, frowning. "What's wrong?" he asked.
The room was dark, but up close Taeyang could see a ray of moonlight sneaking through the window drapes and lighting up Jongseob's features. The bottom of his lip quivered faintly, his shoulders were rigid.
"Hyung," Jongseob choked out, voice fragile as he spoke, almost on the verge of breaking. Tears spilled down the curve of his full-cheeks in big, unrelentless waves, like a river escaping a dam.
Taeyang's eyes widened, startled at the sight of tears trickling down Jongseob's cheeks. He stood frozen for a while, uncertain of what to do, but then a sob left Jongseob's mouth and his instincts took over. He hurried and cupped the younger's cheeks, shushing him and wiping the tears away with his thumbs gently. Jongseob melted in his hands.
"Why are you crying?" He asked softly, furrowing his eyebrows.
Jongseob tried to speak, but it came out in choked sobs and wobbly exhales. His bottom lip trembled and he squeezed his eyes shut, frustrated. He latched onto Taeyang's arms, holding onto them like a life line. "Hyung," he sobbed. Taeyang startled at the sudden physical contact. "Can you..."
Jongseob didn’t finish his sentence, but Taeyang knew what he wanted by the grip on his hands and by the tear stricken cheeks. Taeyang knew him, knew what he needed and what he felt, by the tightening of his jaw, by the furrow of his brow and the fidgeting of his hands. Even blind, Taeyang would know him by the deepness of his voice and the high-pitch of his laughter. He would know him by the feeling of his bony fingers and by the roughness of his nose bridge. Even in complete darkness, Taeyang would recognize his younger brother.
"Hey, shh, of course. It's okay," he reassured and pulled Jongseob into his chest, one hand holding the back of his head, the other rubbing circles on his back. Jongseob almost crumbled once he was in his arms, clutching the fabric of Taeyang's sweater tightly as he cried into Taeyang's chest. It was times like these that reminded Taeyang how young Jongseob actually was. How even though he acted mature around them, he was still just a kid with chubby cheeks, sparkly eyes and a sensitive heart. Jongseob was always eager to prove himself, stubborn to no end, mature and really passionate about anything he was doing. He always put his all. In his dancing, in his rapping, in writing lyrics. Taeyang guessed it was easy to forget Jongseob was still only eightteen, with how reliable he felt like most of the time.
Taeyang brushed through Jongseob's hair gently. "It's alright, Jongseobie. Hyung's got you," he whispered. Jongseob started crying even harder after hearing that, the gut-wrenching sounds made Taeyang's heart twinge, and he couldn’t help but cradle his little brother closer.
Taeyang carefully set both of them on the ground, hugging Jongseob close to his chest and continuing to whisper reassurances into his ear. Finally, after a while, Jongseob's sobs turned into sniffles and he calmed down enough to speak properly. Jongseob pulled away, wiping his face with his hands.
"'M sorry..." He breathed out. "Your sweater's all ruined."
Theo looked down at his sweater and suppressed a grimace. "It's fine. It's not even mine."
"Wha... Whose is it?"
"It's Keeho's."
Jongseob let out a little wet chuckle at that. "He's gonna kill both of us."
"Yeah," Taeyang laughed quietly and brushed a hand through the younger's hair fondly. "So, want to talk about what happened?"
Jongseob swallowed, gnawing on his bottom lip nervously. "Just... a nightmare."
"A nightmare?" Taeyang asked. "You haven't had those in a while."
Taeyang remembered their debut, how excited and scared and nervous they had all been. How they had moved together in the dorms and how weird it had been trying to get used to each other. Jongseob used to get nightmares back then too, but had always tried to hide it away from them. He succeeded for a month before someone finally found out about them. Him and Jongseob had been watching a movie late into the night, a form of rebelling against their manager for cutting most of their meals and putting them on a diet. Those days, Taeyang could barely escape from his rumbling stomach. He had gotten used to it quite quickly, but Jongseob and Shota hadn’t, and seeing two fifteen year olds miserable and starving as they poured their all into dancing and singing, made him so unbelievably furious. Him and Jongseob had ended up falling asleep on the couch. Soft muffled sobs had woken up Taeyang, and he was startled to find out they were coming from the sleeping boy next to him. It was that night that Taeyang actually started thinking of Jongseob as his little brother.
"I don't know why they're back. I feel nervous to even sleep, " Jongseob said, voice trembling. "I... hate them."
Taeyang frowned, grabbing Jongseob's hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I know," he said. "Want to tell me what the latest one was about?"
Jongseob hesitated, looking at Taeyang oddly. "I..."
Taeyang squeezed his hand again. "It's fine if you don't, Seobie. You know that, right?"
Jongseob nodded, squeezing Taeyang's hand back. "I don't want to talk about it."
"That's alright," Taeyang said. "I'll make some tea, just like we used to do, okay?"
Jongseob nodded again, letting go of Taeyang's hand as the older got up, heading towards the cabinets and grabbing a kettle, before filling it with water and setting it on the stove.
"Chamomile sounds good to you?" Taeyang asked.
"Yeah," Jongseob said. Taeyang was pretty sure Jongseob probably didn’t even know the difference between multiple teas. The younger stood up from the cold ground, before sitting down on one of their kitchen chairs, wrapping his blanket around himself again. "Actually," Jongseob continued, sniffling. "Why are you up, hyung?"
Taeyang hummed, "Couldn't sleep."
Jongseob raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I don't know. I'm tired, but it’s, like, at the same time, I’m restless. Jiung kicked me out so I thought some tea would help."
Jongseob snorted, "Jiung kicked you out?"
"Don't laugh. He threw a pillow at my face cause I disturbed his beauty sleep."
Jongseob laughed, snaggle-tooth on display, "I'm surprised you didn't throw it back."
There was silence for a moment.
"You threw it back at his face, didn't you?"
"Can you blame me?" Taeyang asked as he poured the hot water into two cups.
"No, not really," Jongseob said, fiddling with his blanket. A small yawn escaped him as Taeyang set a steaming cup of chamomile tea in front of him.
"Blow on it," Taeyang advised him.
Jongseob obliged and softly blew on the honey colored liquid, before taking a small sip of it and immediately yelping. "My tongue," Jongseob cried out, pitifully holding a hand over his mouth.
Taeyang watched him with a small, amused smile. "You should've waited longer before drinking."
Jongseob pouted and hit him in the arm as Taeyang snickered. "Shut up."
Taeyang settled down into a seat across Jongseob, blowing on his own tea and taking a small sip after letting it cool down. The hot liquid slid down his throat and warmed his stomach, relaxing him. The taste was heavy on his tongue, rich and earthy.
Taeyang loved tea. Maybe more than a normal person would. Intak occasionally teased him about acting like an old man when it came to it. Taeyang always smacked the back of his head each time, but that didn’t really stop Intak. Nevertheless, his mom had introduced him to the hot drink when he was younger, and showed him the multitude of varieties you have when it comes to tea. The fondest memories he had of his mom were with the two of them, talking late at night, laying down next to each other and drinking tea in their apartment. She used to run her hands through his hair fondly, while nagging him about how he should sleep more. The sweet and rich taste of tea brought back memories of her, of her laugh and of her crinkled eyes when she smiled. It was the only thing that comforted him on sleepless nights. Taeyang missed her.
Jongseob was silent as he drank his tea. Taeyang glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and saw that the younger boy was gnawing on his bottom lip anxiously, staring off into space with his eyebrows furrowed.
Taeyang raised an eyebrow, “Is the tea that bad?”
Jongseob startled, gaze snapping towards him, before flushing. “No, it’s fine,” he said sheepishly.
“So what are you making that face for?” Taeyang asked, unimpressed, as he took another sip of his drink.
Jongseob immediately schooled his expression into a neutral one, or attempted to, anyway. Taeyang could see right through him.
“I’m not making a face,” he affirmed. “I just…”
Taeyang hummed encouragingly as Jongseob visibly pondered on whether or not he should talk about what was on his mind.
“Hyung,” Jongseob said after a brief moment. “Our newest comeback has been doing so well. We’re getting so much love and we finally had our first win. I’m so happy, but… I’m also scared.”
Taeyang frowned, setting his cup of tea down, signaling for Jongseob to continue.
Jongseob hesitated. “What if people start getting bored of me? What if my rapping and dance stops improving? What if my charm becomes dull?” He whispered, raw and vulnerable. “What if I have nothing to give anymore?”
Jongseob’s eyes were glossy and fearful as he looked at Taeyang from across the table, and Taeyang could feel his heart clench in his chest as he pieced together a semblance of what Jongseob’s nightmare was like.
Taeyang didn’t understand how Jongseob could think so lowly of himself, when the boy shined so bright everyday. On stage, he knew how to make his presence known. He knew how to bring his own charm, how to make it clear that each and every lyric he sang or rapped was his . He was talented when it came to music, writing his own lyrics, coming out with melodies and spicing up songs. Jongseob knew how to leave a little piece of himself everywhere he went. And Taeyang recognized how Jongseob could think he would have nothing to give anymore soon, but Taeyang also knew that everytime Jongseob gave a piece of himself, he took a little back. He took and he took and he made whatever he took his, and that was what made him so special.
Not only on stage, but in their daily lives too, Jongseob gave a little bit of himself to all of them everyday, a smile that showcased his snaggle tooth, a laugh, a cheeky tease, advice, gifts, hugs, jokes. Their team wouldn’t survive without Jongseob, wouldn’t survive without any of them, really. Taeyang saw it in the way Shota and Jongseob hung out together and clung to each other the most. He saw it in the way Keeho couldn’t keep his hands off of Jongseob’s cheeks or his hair, or how he couldn’t keep himself from spouting endless praise to their youngest. He saw it in the way Intak always seeked Jongseob out whenever he wanted to relax or have fun after a long day of schedules. He saw it in the way Jiung couldn’t hide the pride in his eyes whenever he looked at the youngest. Taeyang knew, because he somehow always ended up gravitating towards Jongseob, no matter where they were, on stage, on a variety show, at home.
But Taeyang also knew that insecurities didn’t make sense, that even though someone could be the most flawless human being, their brain would still find ways to convince them that there’s something wrong with them nonetheless.
Jongseob sniffled from across him, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
Taeyang stood up from his chair, making his way towards Jongseob. The younger looked up at him, misty-eyed with a small pout on his lips. Taeyang flicked him on the forehead.
Jongseob yelped indignantly, holding his forehead, “Yah! What the hell?”
Taeyang crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “Kim Jongseob, I think you are the biggest idiot ever.”
“What?!” Jongseob squeaked out, annoyed.
“Can you really not see how the stuff you’re saying is so obviously wrong?” Taeyang asked. “Lose your charm? Stop improving? You think we’re gonna become bored of you just like that?”
Jongseob stared at him, completely frozen in place. “I…” he stuttered.
“Jongseobie, it’d be impossible for any of us to ever grow bored of you. P1harmony wouldn’t be what it is without you. Don’t you see it?” Taeyang asked. “Keeho literally adores you. I think he gushes about you, like, at least once a day.”
“…Really?” Jongseob asked meekly,
Taeyang pitched his voice and settled into an impression of their leader, “Did you see what our Jongseobie did today? He rapped so well!!!” Taeyang cooed. “Ohh, our Jongseobie, so talented, so cute!!! I could just squish him alive!!!”
Taeyang stopped his impression abruptly and turned towards Jongseob with a deadpan expression, “Want me to continue?”
Jongseob, who was all flushed and flustered, shook his head frantically. Taeyang always thought it was cute that Jongseob looked up to Keeho so much, knowing that Keeho admired Jongseob just as much.
“I’m serious, Jongseobie. Have you seen how Jiung looks at you, whenever you rap, or dance, or finally do something that you’ve been struggling with for a while? He looks so much like a proud dad it makes me sick to my stomach. His eyes become so warm and mushy, it’s disgusting,” Taeyang said. “And Soul. You and Keeho are the only ones Shota opens up to the most. And you’re his age, you probably understand him the most. I know how happy he gets whenever he’s around you, Seobie. You think Shota would ever get tired of you?” Taeyang continued. “Or what about Intak? He’s always having fun whenever he’s around you, and he loves cheering you up, especially because you always manage to raise his spirits whenever he’s down, even when you don’t realize it.”
Taeyang reassured, “Even if, somehow, our fans would get bored of you, which would never happen by the way, you’d still have us, Jongseob. We’re not going anywhere.”
Taeyang fell silent for a moment, observing Jongseob’s reaction to his words. He was pressing his lips tightly together to stop them from trembling, his hands clutching the blanket around himself. Light reflected off of his tear stricken cheeks. Taeyang softened at the sight.
Taeyang ruffled his hair fondly, smiling as Jongseob frowned when the hair got in his eyes. “Believe me, okay? Stop having stupid doubts. I’ll be here to remind you how much you mean to us anytime you need me to.”
Jongseob sniffled, nodding. “Okay,” he whispered, voice wobbly.
“Good,” Taeyang said, gently wiping his tears with his thumbs. “Now stop crying, dummy, your tea is getting cold.”
Jongseob seemed to remember the tea that was in front of him, raising the cup to his lips and taking a slow sip. Taeyang handed him a napkin to dry his face and blow his nose. Jongseob took it gratefully.
A comfortable wave of silence engulfed the two as they continued to drink their tea until their last drops. Jongseob yawned, blinking tiredly. All the crying and all those emotions must’ve tired him out. Taeyang still wasn’t feeling particularly tired, surprisingly, but Jongseob should sleep if he was.
“Seobie, shouldn’t you get to bed?” Taeyang asked.
Jongseob shook his head. “No, let’s sit on the couch and watch a movie.”
“A movie? It’s almost 3 AM.”
“It’s fine, let’s just lay on the couch and pick a random one.”
Taeyang obliged. “Alright.”
They cleaned up in the kitchen and moved to the living room, making themselves comfortable on the couch. Jongseob scrolled a few minutes on Netflix for a movie, before giving up and putting on season 3 of My Little Pony. Taeyang internally groaned, knowing Jongseob would fall asleep before him and he’d have to endure watching talking ponies ramble on about friendship and magic for various episodes. Still, he didn’t dare complain after how rough of a night Jongseob had had.
Jongseob was curled up against his side, his head laying on Taeyang’s chest. Taeyang knew there wasn’t much time left before Jongseob would be softly snoring and sound asleep. His blanket was sprawled across their laps, and Taeyang felt impossibly warm as he tugged Jongseob closer.
After a few moments, Jongseob spoke up, voice quiet and heavy in the air.
“Hyung,” he asked. “Can I tell you something?”
Taeyang hummed.
“You really feel like my actual older brother,” Jongseob sleepily mumbled. “You always take care of me, thank you.”
Taeyang’s heart squeezed in his chest, bursting with warmth at Jongseob’s words.
Before he could respond, Jongseob fell into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. Taeyang smiled and fondly stroked his hair, pulling his younger brother closely and closing his eyes.
“Goodnight, Jongseobie.”
With a steady warmth pressed against his side, and the sound of even breaths filling up the room, sleep finally claimed Taeyang, lulling him softly into a short-lived dream.
Morning came, with its soft glow and the sounds of birds singing outside, welcoming the sun up in the sky.
Jiung groaned as he rolled out of bed, wishing he could sleep just a bit longer. His alarm had gone off, and he had known that if he snoozed it, Keeho would smother him with his blanket for letting the alarm ring multiple times. Jiung didn’t like to admit how often this situation had happened.
Oddly enough, as he glanced at Keeho’s bed, he noticed that it was empty. Taeyang’s was too, but that wasn’t really something of concern. Taeyang was usually the one who got up the earliest out of the six of them.
Frowning, Jiung went out into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eye.
“Hey, Keeho—?“
“Shh!!”
Jiung startled. In front of him, Keeho had his finger raised to his mouth. He slowly pointed to his left.
“Look,” he whispered.
On the couch, Jongseob was cuddled into Taeyang’s side, his blonde hair sticking out in multiple ways. His mouth was slightly agape, a dark pool of drool staining Taeyang’s gray sweater. Taeyang’s head was resting on top of Jongseob’s, his arms wrapped around Jongseob affectionately. His expression was peaceful, his features relaxed and softened by sleep. A blanket was halfway spread across the two boys, slipping down to the floor. Jiung didn’t think he’d ever seen the both of them look so serene while sleeping.
“Oh,” he muttered. Jiung couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “They’re cute.”
Next to him, Keeho fished his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture, before sending it to their groupchat. “Yeah, they are,” he agreed.
Jiung bent down and pulled the blanket from the floor, covering the two boys with it and tucking them in gently. He brushed a strand of hair out of Jongseob’s face fondly, before turning around and heading to the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” He asked Keeho. “I’ll make breakfast?”
Keeho was busy taking more pictures of Taeyang and Jongseob to respond, grinning to himself.
Jiung knew when everyone would wake up, they’d all be hungry, so he settled on making 6 simple dishes, humming to himself quietly and being careful to not disturb the two sleeping boys on the couch.