Work Text:
Keep your love unchanging for my wounded heart,
Looking in your eyes, no words are needed, time has stopped
Feeling alone in this dark night, your soft breathe,
This moment warmly entwines me in your presence, I want you to know all my tremors
Into The New World - SNSD
:::
There’s a language that can easily cross all existing thousands or millions of barrier; it’s called body-language.
Winwin’s Korean might be limited to what he was taught in his short amount of training period, but he doesn’t have to be expert in the language to be able to tell every single touch and contacts shared between his ever so supportive friend and providing leader, are different .
Jaehyun has always been all dimpled-smile and affectionate touch, polite gesture, and amicable words. He’s easily the kind of guy Winwin can imagine his mom would want as future son in law with his naturally good feature and equally handsome mannerism. He treats everyone with the same respect, same regards; always making sure he takes care of them regardless their ages.
Winwin has experienced it firsthand, being in the same age with Jaehyun, he naturally seeks for his help. And Jaehyun was always there; rock-steady whenever Winwin needed him to, patiently listening to his broken Korean, smile stretched infinitely on his beautiful face.
Looking back, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Jaehyun upset. Even when he stumbled over his poor vocabularies and had to make Jaehyun wait until he can properly sew the words together unnecessarily long, his smile is ever present. The same dimpled-smile he gives everyone; sunshine-warm and genuine.
And then there is Taeyong. Taeyong who is beautiful like snow field in the winter; expanse of pure white that speaks of solitude yet carries the hope of spring drawing near. In that way, Taeyong is unapproachable, because you do not voluntarily scoop up snow with bare hands, afraid of the cold and reluctant to ruin the beautiful picture painted by nature itself.
He is, indeed, beautiful, like an ice sculpture carved by the sacred hands of God himself. All sharp angles and striking features; jaw that could cut a diamond and cheekbones as prominent. Rich, opulent eyes that gleam like liquid onyx, framed by short yet full lashes, and equally full brows.
When Winwin saw him for the first time, he had hard time believing that the man in front of him is real; sometimes Winwin even wondered if Taeyong would disappear, proving that the man is nothing more than figment of his imagination for nobody ought to be that beautiful.
But Taeyong’s presence is certain, he exists in the same plane and dimension as Winwin does, breathing in the same air, eating the same rice. Training together, walking through the passage of time with him. His hands are reaching out, always, palm upturned and open. Waiting, with smile that reminds Winwin of his mother and guidance of a father.
Like Jaehyun, it is no special treatment. Taeyong treats his members the same, younger and older alike. He adores them, always making sure to praise them or involving them in conversation. Encouraging the other members with gentle squeezes or reassuring smile. Genuine love that is just and unbiased, the one he gives away generously without asking for anything in return.
But then there’s Jaehyun, and then there’s Taeyong, and when they meet in the middle; their eyes would always speak of something more; their smiles would brighten up a little more. It’s different. Simply different. Just as sun that sets in the west is the same sun that rises from the east; same yet different. Same; in a sense that they’re one singular sun, one singular action of smile. Different; in a sense that they cast different ambiences.
Jaehyun would look at Taeyong like Taeyong is the one who painted the ever so stunning and vivid Andromeda over the dark canvas of universe. Or maybe like Taeyong is the Andromeda itself, or, sometimes as Winwin unabashedly stare at the surprisingly oblivious Jaehyun (whose eyes had difficulty of leaving Taeyong’s figure), he thinks he wouldn’t be shocked to hear Jaehyun find Taeyong to be much more beautiful than all galaxies combined.
Sure Jaehyun is attentive, always looking at everyone with earnest thought and interest. When you talk with him, he’d give you his undivided attention, he makes you feel like you’re the center of his world with the way he hang on your every single words. But then Taeyong would speak, open his pretty, pink lips, and you could feel the difference, thick and electrifying in the air. Jaehyun does not just hang on Taeyong’s words; he carves them to his skin, commits them to his memory, he breathes and takes them in like he’d die if he missed a single syllable.
And his eyes, God, his eyes are the most guilty of them all. His eyes are chocolate melted, swirl of thick, gleaming sweetness. Warm, like hot chocolate dashed with sprinkle of golden-hued cinnamon filling your mug in the winter. Glowing, like young boughs of tree s lit by the sunlight. Honest in their joy, child seeing mountains of candy and spun-sugar.
Jaehyun’s eyes, they speak; of happiness like honey, and adoration like stars. Whenever they found Taeyong, they’d rise; alive and majestic like sun, claiming all of his being with warmth infinite and endless. He’d stare at their leader with devotion, unwilling to look away. Appreciative, as if he’s thanking Taeyong for existing at all. Enchanted, as if Taeyong had bind him with an ardent spell.
Jaehyun looks at Taeyong, mesmerized in his adoration, and the intensity of his gaze, the sincerity of his eyes, can either make you look away in embarrassment or capturing you instead. Winwin has never seen anyone looking at someone this strongly unless they’re in love, and that’s exactly how Jaehyun looks at Taeyong; in love, helplessly so. A curse that he welcomes with how he practically worships every single atom of Taeyong’s being with his all-too-honest eyes.
So even if in the beginning Winwin had to wonder how could Yuuta (and the rest of their band members) stand these two being like this, somewhere along the way, Winwin just let himself look. Let himself watch the way Jaehyun glorifies Taeyong with his pair of rich-mahogany eyes, and how Taeyong would look back at him in return with the same fervor, same reverence.
Taeyong reciprocates him, not with his eyes because Taeyong’s eyes are not honest. Always guarded, hidden behind rich and thick velvety curtain of obsidian. Night Lake under the moonlight, quiet and serene. Mysterious and knowingly profound even though you cannot exactly tell how deep it is. They hide something; could be a treasure and something beautiful; could be a nightmare, something horrible like a scabbed scar that can never heal and keeps on haunting you at night.
Winwin had heard the stories so he had reason to believe it’s the latter than the former. But there is Jaehyun, Jaehyun who looks at Taeyong like he is the singular truth in across all spaces and dimensions, so Winwin also has a reason to believe that no matter how ugly the monster that lurks under the darkened lake of Taeyong’s eyes, he’d still find it beautiful.
Then Taeyong answers the signal Jaehyun’s eyes sent with his gestures; with his clumsy fingers that’s been twisted for too much times, and equally endearing ungainly legs. With hands sure as much as they’re hesitant, reaching out, seeking for Jaehyun’s skin as if he’d fall without them. Curling around Jaehyun’s wrist, sneaking under his elbow, mapping his broad back and shoulder; reassuring, securing, making certain that Jaehyun is indeed here and real, and he’d look at Taeyong like he worth more than thousands of sun.
Winwin didn’t exactly know what happened in Taeyong’s past, but according to Yuuta, something happened, something bad and shouldn’t happen to a child that young that deprived Taeyong of his self-esteem, resulting in the ugly mistake he committed. It’s a scar nasty, a brand that would never disappear from Taeyong’s skin like permanent tattoo. Something he had to carry for the rest of his life, a constant nightmare, one that doesn’t seem to go away until he found his place in their agency and was given a chance to redeem himself, to prove the whole world that he worth more than his grave past made him out to be.
That also made him hungry for attention; he craves for it, to be loved and adored, because they validate his means, because they banish the crippling guilt away. And Jaehyun gives it to him, all so willingly, generous and abundant in number. Spring water pure. Crystal clear. Sincere, only wanting to give and hoping for nothing in return. Helplessly unconditional, irrevocable, to the point Winwin thinks Jaehyun cannot live without cherishing Taeyong and the elder cannot live without his heart-searing affection.
Taeyong seeks then, for Jaehyun, and Jaehyun seeks back for him. It’s fascinating how naturally they fall together, from the way they’d angle their bodies for each other whenever they sit side by side, or how their eyes would always find each other in interviews, a wordless conversation that speaks of reassurance and confirmation, of ‘ you are doing well’ , and ‘you sound so beautiful’ .
Jaehyun’s touches speak as much as Teyong’s, too. It’s impossible to mistake it when in almost all group pictures they took Jaehyun just had to touch their leader in some way, most often as a firm grip on the base of Taeyong’s nape where his shoulder meets his neck. Always the same place, the same spot.
Yuuta had called Jaehyun ‘possessive bastard’ after a certain group photo for music show, something that Jaehyun only responded with bashful smile, and Winwin had to threaten Mark to tell him what did it mean (his Korean might be limited but he had his way ) to know what was it that Yuuta said that had made Taeil literally tripped over nothing and Haechan laughed like hyenas.
It’s everyone’s secret, something classified that they only disclose behind locked doors and under the protective cloak of night. Winwin had brought the topic with Taeil before in between their before sleep conversations.
“About Taeyong-hyung and Jaehyun…”
He faltered, but Taeil caught on. The vocalist’s voice grew softer, and even if he couldn’t see him in the dark of their room, he could picture the way Taeil’s eyes shone, tender like the beam of moonlight that peeked from between the curtain.
“They’ve been friends for a long time,” were all Taeil said. Cryptic, a code only they can decipher. Winwin hummed in agreement, recalling the exchanged furtive glances between his band members whenever Jaehyun and Taeyong bound themselves together.
He drew another images too; of Jaehyun as he angled his body so Taeyong can lean on him after realizing their leader was sleepy; of Taeyong as he patted Jaehyun’s golden hair after he helped the others reading through his messy scrawls of writing; of Jaehyun as he squeezed Taeyong’s knee in reassurance after Doyoung teased him; of Taeyong as he easily told it was Jaehyun who wrote the message; of Jaehyun as he ignored Taeyong’s handshake and gave him a full hug instead.
Too open, too honest, too intimate, but Winwin couldn’t look away, frozen on his seat with goofy smile on his face. He could feel his pupils shaking as they briefly met Taeyong’s, and the leader had casted his gaze downward, lashes a falling curtain but hiding none of his joy, his elation, his happiness of being in the embrace of one people who made him feel like he belongs.
Winwin remembered thinking; it’s Jaehyun isn’t it? His mind tracked the locus of his memory, to one night when Taeyong found him crying alone on the sofa two hours before the dawn breaks. Taeyong had cuddled him, tucking Winwin – Sicheng – under his chin, and wrapped his consoling arms around Sicheng’s trembling form.
He had missed his home back then; missed his family, and his small yet comfortable room. Missed waking up to twittering birds and his mother’s smile. He missed everything that he had grown up with and now alone in strange country, he felt lonely and helpless, scared, unsure of unseen future because he knew what had happened to people like him in their company.
Taeyong told him it’s okay, murmuring soft promises, not of forever, but of friendship, that he’d stand by Sicheng’s side whatever path he’d choose even though it would lead to their separation and for the time they have together, he will do everything he’s capable of to make sure Sicheng never feel alone.
“We will make you feel belong, Sicheng, I promise. We will make effort too,” Taeyong had said, bringing Sicheng closer as he pressed a tender kiss to the crown of his head. A pledge, honest and determined. And for that single moment Sicheng cursed whoever dare to bane Taeyong’s name, because, God, is this person created of all things beautiful and golden, Sicheng didn’t think he could survive this long if it wasn’t for Taeyong’s ever so strong, welcoming presence.
His Korean wasn’t as good before, so he had a hard time catching what Taeyong tried to say. The leader smiled, trying to explain it with another word easier for Sicheng to understand. In the end he had said ‘home’ and Sicheng finally understood his message. “You are my home,” Sicheng mumbled timidly. “You guys are my home.”
Hearing the certainty in his voice made Taeyong smile, blossoming wide and proud. Sicheng’s breathe was caught in his throat because regardless, nobody can deny that Lee Taeyong is magnificent. “We will be, we are your home, Sicheng. You can come back to us.”
“Home is where the heart is?” Sicheng tried with his limited vocabulary but Taeyong seemed to understand it immediately.
“Yeah, I thought it was just, you know, some stupid quotes but it’s actually true. Home is where your heart is, it can be place, it can be people, too.”
And when he said ‘ people’ , Sicheng didn’t miss the way his eyes shone, glimmering coal in the dark. Melancholic song of faraway starry sky. Calling, searching, for something – someone – in his memory. For one single moment, it wasn’t Sicheng who’s huddled in Taeyong’s embrace but someone else, Sicheng could tell that much, and it was pure on instinct when he asked; “who?”
Taeyong blinked and the song was put into halt as he finally looked at Winwin again, perplexed. “Who?”
“Who’s your home , Hyung?”
Taeyong had not answered back then, he continued staring at him with blank expression before it melted away, like snow under the sun, and he was too beautiful Sicheng had to look away. If he stared too long, he’d be captivated by his allure and Sicheng wondered how many people had fallen to Taeyong’s charm before. He also wondered who was the lucky person who’s Taeyong’s home, the lucky person who made Taeyong feels he belong.
It’s all so clear now, Winwin got it all figured out, the blindfold around his eyes had been unfastened and he can see everything. Small touches and earnest smile, crinkle of the eyes and scrunched up nose. Soft yet sure ‘I Love you’ that had slipped from Taeyong’s lips.
He felt the room freeze for a moment, Mark beside him fell to a still, but the camera was still rolling, and the show must go on. Jaehyun smiled like nothing happened though Winwin could see the hardened edges, and Taeyong’s voice was a little unsteady when he spoke again. Someone cracked a joke, maybe it was Doyoung, or it was Yuuta, but it was enough to break the ice veil that had suddenly fell around them and the show resumed its normal atmosphere.
Winwin found his eyes opening, staring at the darkness, unable to tell apart between the ceiling and the wall, but he could tell as much that Taeyong loves Jaehyun who loves him as much in return, but it’s something they could not spoke, could not verbalize with words, and could not openly express. He felt genuinely sorry for them because they’re both kind people who deserve nothing but happiness, and Winwin just wanted them to be truly happy.
So he told Taeil just that, and Taeil’s voice was still the same moonlight-serene when agreed, “me too, I just want them to be happy.”
And Winwin thinks they’re happy, even if there are words they can never say drawing a length between them, they can still be happy. Like now, when Taeyong is happily mouthing along the English lyrics and Jaehyun is sitting beside him, rocking to the music. They had been inseparable since the award show started, Taeyong continued leaning onto Jaehyun’s side, fingers curled around Jaehyun’s shoulder and occasionally drumming on his back.
Their group had been announced as The Rookie of The Year earlier. Winwin remembered Taeyong crying so hard but still managed to deliver his speech, tearful and emotional. Taeyong had buried his face in his hand, sobbing earnestly as Winwin made his own speech in Chinese so he didn’t see the exchange between them. But later Yuuta told him, eyes happy and knowing, how Jaehyun had reached out to squeeze Taeyong’s shoulder in reassurance, encouragingly. An anchor to steady their trembling leader, an action that wouldn’t be as effective if it wasn’t done by Jaehyun.
Winwin feels happy for them, but then their closeness eventually becomes too distracting that Winwin has to force himself not to look at the two of them.
They kept whispering to each other, laughing about something only the two of them know, and they had been doing that with closeness that’s admittedly unnecessary. He could understand if it’s for the sake of fan-service, and since Yuuta did hug him out of the blue a couple of times too, Winwin didn’t feel the right to say anything about it, but the practically non-existent distance between Taeyong and Jaehyun throughout the show was too much to be counted as mere fan-service.
At least they’re happy , Winwin thinks to himself, then suddenly, the light goes out and familiar melody starts playing. He stands up in reflex because this is his favorite song, but a couple of seconds to the first verse, Yuuta had sat down and for some unknown reason, Winwin feels compelled to sit down as well.
It is in that exact moment, just when Winwin’s butt touches the seat and Yuuta’s pats the small of his back, that Taeyong’s previously unoccupied hand moves, lingers on Jaehyun’s silky-looking brown hair in a blink of an eye, before cascading down, flowing like waterfall, to rest on Jaehyun’s nape.
Winwin’s breathe catches for Jaehyun, who was still nodding to the music a split second ago and suddenly stills like a rock. He pretends he do not feel the way Jaehyun has grown tense, pretends he do not notice his leader’s curled fist resting on the nape of his band mate.
He pretends he do not see the way Jaehyun shifts, concealing his shrug by leaning back, and Taeyong catches the unspoken message. But Taeyong doesn’t let him go easily, because Taeyong craves for attention, because Taeyong’s eyes are not honest and it’s with his whole body he answers Jaehyun’s eyes. He leans down, leaning closer to Jaehyun, and uncurls his fingers open to gently caresses his neck before they slip away in one fluid motion. Taeyong sits down then, swaying his body left to right while still singing to the song, Jaehyun does similar thing, and how normal both of them react to quick yet everlasting exchange baffles Winwin to no end.
There are cameras everywhere, and he doesn’t doubt he’d be able to find the footage of that moment easily. The fans would love it, and they’d believe it is ‘real’ moment between them, not something fabricated just to please them because Jaehyun’s reaction was too natural; he did freeze, perplexed, shocked and uncomfortable, maybe because as intimate as they’re in front of camera, they can be even more so and that quick exchange earlier is supposed to be something they save for only themselves, hence Jaehyun’s discomfort.
Winwin’s mind spirals with the thought of how more intimate the two of them could be, it becomes borderline disturbing so he’s grateful when Yuuta distracts him by getting him to a conversation.
The show eventually draws to a close, and it’s only when they’re away from public’s eyes that Taeyong lets his vulnerability return. His eyes are glassy once again, cradling the award carefully in his arms. Words of congratulation are exchanged as promise of celebration is made.
In the center of it is Taeyong, smiling wet and happy. Then there is Jaehyun, and their eyes meet and Winwin has to look away, because then it’s not only their eyes that meet, but their whole bodies; and when Jaehyun’s arms are wrapped around Taeyong’s slightly shaking frame; when Taeyong practically melts into his hugs, it’s like watching stars collide into each other. A brilliant explosion of rich gold over pitch black, a reunion that shouldn’t be, a captivating catastrophe.
It’s too radiant and beautiful, breathtakingly so but too much for bare eyes to see. So Winwin looks away, and he can feel the others are doing the same, casting their gazes away from the unified two with similar tender smile on their faces.
Winwin closes his eyes and even if now his ears can only catch Taeyong’s broken cry of Jaehyun’s name, and Jaehyun’s murmurs of; “you did well, Taeyongie-hyung,” he imagines he can hear something else.
Winwin imagines then, if he closes his eyes and opens his ears enough, he can hear those words; words that their expressive eyes have always exchanged, words that they always sing of, words that Winwin hopes will not remain forever unsaid;
Words that Winwin thinks, as he dares himself to look at them, cradled safe and sound in each other’s arms, might not be necessary at all, for Jaehyun’s eyes they speak and for Taeyong’s hands, they speak, too;
I love you, I love you, I love you.