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When Hweseung officially joins N.Flying, he feels like an intruder. He's always been a sociable guy, easy going and likeable, at least he thinks so. The thing is he just got out of a survival show where interacting with a bunch of artists he knew nothing about seemed pretty easy. It should be easier with this band, he's seen them at company meetings, bumped into them at practice rooms. But socializing becomes a hundred times harder when he's trying to fit in a group of guys that have been together for years, and what they have feels more like family than friendship.
The day he moves into the dorm is easily one of the most awkward experiences of his life. He steps into the place that's gonna be his room from now on to find a pile of clothes covering Kwangjin's bed, and Kwangjin himself holding the door of the wardrobe open for him with a big smile on his face that intends to be kind, but it looks forced to Hweseung.
“I made room for your stuff, hope it's enough!” Kwangjin says with dubious enthusiasm, patting Hweseung on the shoulder.
Hweseung ducks his head and offers him a small smile that intends to be thankful, but comes out as apologetic, and also forced. He's never felt more uncomfortable in his life, irrupting into a stranger's room and taking over his personal space. But their dorm is so small, he has to squish himself into someone else's room, and Jaehyun almost jumped out of his skin when Hweseung told him he could use the couch.
Jaehyun, he's trying to be polite and make Hweseung feel welcome, but his eyes following every single one of his moves just make Hweseung's skin itch, so self conscious he spends most of the day sitting at the kitchen table, fidgeting with his hands, biting his nails. He doesn't dare to move too much, he's too scared he'll touch something he shouldn't.
He doesn't talk much, either. Kwangjin, Jaehyun and Hun gather in the kitchen, with their backs resting against the counter, talking about him and glancing curiously at him as if Hweseung isn't there and can't listen to every single word they are saying. Hweseung feels too much like a trespasser to find the courage to say anything.
“He looks like a picky eater,” Hun says, arms crossed firmly over his chest and forehead wrinkled up.
“Don't pout beforehand, we don't know him,” Jaehyun fights back as he pokes Hun's lips with his index finger, he squeals when Hun's tongue peeks out to lick his skin. “Let's wait and see what Seungjjang brings from the store,” he keeps talking as he wipes his wet finger in the front of Kwangjin's shirt.
“Oh, you didn't do that,” Kwangjin reaches out to grab a cloth, he twists it between his hands before he runs after Jaehyun, who's already fluttering around the dorm while he laughs hysterically.
Hweseung can't help but snicker, he huddles up in himself and looks up at Hun, who's looking down at him with his lips pressed up in a firm line, as if he's trying to hold in his laughter. Hweseung just looks down embarrassed and tries to make himself smaller.
But then Seunghyub gets to the dorm, flushed cheeks and wide eyes, a million of apologies rolling down his tongue for being so late, and flops three big plastic bags on the table.
“I have no idea what you like,” he explains, his voice is low and mellow, with a hint of urgency that softens the bundle of nerves in Hweseung's stomach. He wants to reach out and grab Seunghyub's wrists, stop him from taking all the food out of the bags, tell him it isn't a big deal, he likes everything. But he's still too unsure to do anything, so he just stares with his mouth half-open. “So I ended up buying four different brands of everything,” Seunghyub adds, the sentence sounds like a question, as he holds up two different packages of toothpaste.
Hun can't hold it in this time, he bursts out laughing, with his head thrown back and his eyes all wrinkled up, and Hweseung can't help but follow suit as the other boys join him. He laughs out loud until his belly starts to hurt, his head hidden between his crossed arms.
Only then, Hweseung can feel the tension of his shoulders easing up, he looks at Seunghyub between his eyelashes, his eyes half closed with laughter, and watches him flop down in one of the kitchen chairs, frowning with faked annoyance, his lips curled up in a soft smile. Hweseung wonders how someone can be so nice and ease up everything around them so effortlessly.
–-
The first day at the practice room is the second most awkward experience of Hweseung's life.
He's used to empty rooms with big mirrors where he can look at himself while he dances. He's used to vocal coaches that guide him through the deepest, most difficult notes. He's used to pre-recorded beats and ad-libs.
The band's practice room is an entirely different thing. It's small, it smells like sweat and gives Hweseung a feeling of claustrophobia. The instruments take up most of the space, the floor is covered with wires and empty water bottles.
This is just a jamming session, that's what Jaehyun told him, to see how they sound together, to learn everyone's pace and mold his and Seunghyub's voices together. He said it with a smile that was almost too wide for his own face and an encouraging hand squeezing Hweseung's shoulder, as if he was trying to make it sound like the easiest, funniest thing in the world. But it when Hweseung trips over with a wire and almost disconnects the guitar accidentally, the threatening look Hun sends him makes him feel as self-conscious as that first day at the dorm.
He decides to stay still in the middle of the room, his feet nailed to the floor and his hands wrapped around the mic. He feels the pressure down in his stomach, going slowly up his chest, he's afraid it'll get stuck in his throat and he won't be able to sing a single note. His hands are sweaty around the mic.
“Try to calm down!” Seunghyub says as he picks up his own mic and positions himself next to Hweseung. “This isn't a test or an exam, it's supposed to be fun,” he bumps his shoulder against Hweseung's, laughs through his nose when Hweseung tries to smile at him but ends up making a terrified grimace.
It's difficult at first, having to pay attention to all the different instruments, the different paces and volumes. He isn't able to sing loud enough, he isn't able to sing fast enough, he isn't able to get his lyrics right. It's terrifying, the thought that he isn't made to work as a team, only as a solo artist, it's hovering over him, almost tangible and so cold, he stutters and trips over his own words.
But it disappears as soon as Seunghyub moves closer, he drapes an arm around Hweseung's shoulders, a little awkward and clumsy, but comforting, and he smiles at him before he starts singing. And their voices fit so well together, Hweseung's worries are erased with the first verse.
It turns out to be one of the funniest days of Hweseung's life, jumping around and smiling like a fool, relishing in the fact that his and Seunghyub's voices are so different, they complement each other, complete the songs.
It's thrilling, the excitement that's running through his body even though they are playing other artists' songs in an empty, small room. He wonders how much better it can get once they are performing in front of an actual crowd, wonders if Seunghyub could look even freer than he already does, grinning at him like a mad man.
---
It gets better, slowly. The tension in Hweseung's body eases up as the days go by, the awkwardness between him and the other members is less suffocating, he doesn't walk around the dorm as if he's walking on eggshells anymore.
The bundle of nerves in his stomach doesn't want to leave, though. Everything is still too new and exciting, the fact that he finally has songs that he can call his , and he has other four people to share the excitement with. All the lessons, the band practices, their gatherings at night to eat together, live streams for people who call themselves their fans. It's a bit overwhelming, and Hweseung isn't sure he'll ever get used to it. It's even more difficult when he's the only one going through this adjustment period, since the other boys went through the same thing years ago, together. He feels like a lost child, inexperienced and overenthusiastic, but at least he doesn't feel so much like an intruder in his own place.
Kwangjin is slowly becoming in a persistent, bossy and caring parent. He doesn't worry about having to leave room for Hweseung in their shared wardrobe, because Hweseung's clothes are always scattered all over the floor, and Kwangling is always picking them up, folding them and chasing Hweseung around the dorm, threatening him to leave him locked outside if he doesn't tidy his part of the room. He's also the one who wakes Hweseung up every single morning, it was awkward at first, a few parts on his head and light whispers, but now he just turns the lights on and pulls at Hweseung's ankle until he falls off the bed.
Hun is like an actual big brother. Hweseung has experience with older siblings, his three older sisters always treated him like an annoying child, their precious, small, cute child, but still annoying. And that's pretty much how Hun acts around him. He glances at him every time Hweseung takes over his spot in the kitchen, threatening and sulking, but always ends up pressed up by his side, helping him out with everything he needs. The proud look in Hun's eyes every time Hweseung cooks something successfully is better than anything else he could give him.
Jaehyun feels like a silly, hyperactive cousin. Hweseung can still feel his eyes everywhere he goes, but it isn't to help him out anymore, it's to prank him at the smallest chance he gets. He may be annoying sometimes, too noisy and energetic, a little too much, but Hweseung is so thankful for him, he fills up the dorm with laughter and life when everyone else is too tired to move.
And then there's Seunghyub, Hweseung doesn't know where Seunghyub fits in this kind of second family he's making for himself. He doesn't feel like family, not quite (not at all). And still, he feels closer than anyone else. He doesn't know how to explain it, he just knows he would've given up the second day if Seunghyub hadn't been there to make everything gentler, smoother. It's warm and kind, the feeling that goes through Hweseung's body whenever they are together, like a smoldering fire in the pit of his stomach that started to burn the day they met, and gets hotter and hotter the more they get to know each other. Seunghyub's like a frustrating riddle, he looks so transparent, with his clear eyes and soft smiles, Hweseung feels like he'll tell him anything he wants to know if he asks him, but at the same time he feels unreadable, as if he's hiding something, everything. Hweseung just wants to place him somewhere.
He wonders if this is just him, or if Seunghyub makes everyone else feel this way.
---
Seunghyub is caring by nature, Hweseung knows that. He's so caring he's often so busy thinking about others he forgets to think about himself.
He spends way too many hours at his studio, after band practices (that are getting better, Hweseung is able to jump around without tripping over wires, he still trips over his own words, but that's out of excitement instead of clumsiness) he goes to the studio to work on new songs, even though they are currently preparing for a comeback,
Seunghyub spends too many hours trapped in that basement, many nights, too. Hweseung doesn't understand where he gets the strength from, he's always so exhausted after practice, he can barely think.
He stays with Seunghyub most of the days, though. He flops on a chair next to him, watches him as he scribbles down on pieces of paper, and types fast on his computer, middles with his guitar and piano. It's calming, in a way, how sucked up into music Seunghyub gets, as if everything around him blurs or fades.
Hweseung asks him, one day, “aren't you too tired?”
Seunghyub looks up from his notes, song lyrics scribbled down on a wrinkled page in messy handwriting that only he can understand.
“I have to work hard if we want the band to hit it big,” he says, smiling softly, as always.
It's such a natural answer, such an easy thing to say for him. Hweseung wants to complain, because that isn't really a reply to his question, and because the band is five people and Seunghyub doesn't have to carry all the weight on his own tired shoulders. They are a team, supposed to share the burden and the work, but Hweseung got here a few weeks ago, he feels like he doesn't have a say on this, not yet, at least. So he just keeps watching as Seunghyub dives in his notes and beats and poetry again, and stares at the frown between his eyebrows, his lips, pursed in concentration. He looks calm in his own little battle against creativity.
He's staring too much, Hweseung knows it, but maybe if he stares long enough that passion Seunghyub feels will stick to him somehow, maybe he will be able to suck up some of his talent and help him out.
And even after all these hours spent working, going from writing and composing to band practice, to writing again, Seunghyub still steals some of his own time to take care of the guys. To take care of Hweseung.
It happens so often, when Hweseung is locked up in the practice room taking vocal lessons, and suddenly someone knocks on the door. It's always Seunghyub standing there when Hweseung opens the door, with his gentle, caring smile on his lips, dark shadows under his eyes, and Hweseung's favourite bread in his hands. All Hweseung can do is thank him, his chest swelling up with a warm feeling he can't name, and promise to himself that, some day, he will give it all back to him, somehow.
Hweseung feels like he owes him something, so he spends more and more time with Seunghyub in the studio, even though he falls asleep while staring at him most of the time. It's always Seunghyub the one who wakes him up, shaking his shoulders lightly, brushing hair out of his forehead, and tells him that dinner is ready, tells him to eat something and go sleep while Seunghyub gets ready to work for at least three more hours. Hweseung wonders how someone can be so full of kindness and worry towards others but nothing towards themself.
–-
(“Why are your lips so thick?” Seunghyub asks, as he pinches Hweseung's lower lip with his fingers. “It's sexy.”
The touch tingles. The words burn.)
–-
The day their album comes out, Hweseung is a twisted bundle of anxiety and excitement. He's so filled up with contrary feelings he's about to overflow.
It's kind of suffocating, the happiness that's rattling up from his toes to his neck, making his blood buzz in his own ears. The fact that he's grasping his dream, touching it with the pads of his fingers, finally putting out songs that he can call his own, knowing that he can rely on his voice for a living—it gives him a feeling of realization at the pit of his stomach he thinks it should be soothing, but he's boiling inside out.
Hweseung feels over-sensitive, with goosebumps all over his skin and his heart beating so hard in his throat he feels like he won't be able to get the words out once he's on stage. Fear is taking over each fiber of his body, suddenly all those hours he spent in the practice room fall heavy over his shoulders, tiring and crushing, so he holds onto his mic, his grasp so tight his knuckles go white, and naively hopes that it will give him so kind of leverage.
There's this impertinent voice in the back of his head that sounds very much like a high-pitched version of himself, it keeps whispering that doesn't fit in the band, not quite, not yet, maybe he never will. It keeps saying that there's something missing, that he isn't good enough, no matter how much and how hard he's practices, he can't catch up to the level of experience the other members have. He'll never get there, he'll always be one step behind, at least. The voice muses, cold and merciless, that he's minutes away from disappointing everyone who attends their showcase.
He isn't ready to disappoint himself, and he can't even bear the thought of disappointing the guys.
So he plasters a smile to his face, tightens the grip on his mic, and froces himself to get up on stage, unsteady legs and sweaty hands. He feels like this is way too big for him, even when they are performing for a hundred people only, the stage feels like the highest mountain, he feels so up from the ground he's running out of air, and the room spinning slowly around him. But it all kind of stops abruptly when the music starts playing. Seunghyub becomes a totally different person, so bright it's almost blinding, Hweseung needs to squint to look at him, and he pulls him down so hard and fast it knocks the air out of Hweseung's lungs, replaces it with music.
It's amazing, the effect music has on Seunghyub, it's like everything else fades, he dives in so deep he flows with it, jumping around and smiling so wide, he pulls Hweseung in. Hweseung feels like a moth drawn to a flame, fluttering around Seunghyub, getting soaked in his energy that erases any trace of fear from Hweseung's body, drags him into his bubble of music and excitement without even trying. He feels sure and safe up there, with the boys by his side, Seunghyub's arm draped around his shoulder, warm and grounding. And suddenly Hweseung is singing as if this is his first and last performance, music pumping through him in a way that makes him feel alive.
Every time he looks at Seunghyub, he is looking right back, eyes almost closed in the widest grin, and Hweseung wonders if he's aware of the effect he has on people.
---
When they get off stage and gather backstage, Hweseung's body aches all over, his throat is so sore he thinks he won't be able to sing for a week, but he's never felt healthier. He's tired all the way to his bones and even deeper, but he's never felt this wide awake and overexcited.
The other boys keep jumping around, laughing out loud, as hyped and full of adrenaline as he feels, and he promises to himself that he's gonna work as hard as possible to make sure they can go up on stage for many years. To make sure he'll get to see them this happy and passionate as often as possible.
A hand squeezes his shoulder then, warm and firm, and someone mumbles in his ear “you were amazing!” too loudly and frantically to be a whisper, but still quiet in the bustle of the changing room.
Hweseung turns around to find Seunghyub looking down at him, eyes wide open and shining in a million different colors. He's a mess, all sweaty and soaked from head to toe, his hair is dishevelled and wet, brown strands standing up in different directions, cheeks flushed pink, drops of water glistering over his neck, his lips turned upwards in a delirious smile, so red and shiny, Hweseung can't make himself look away.
He opens his mouth a few times but he can't seem to get the words out. He wants to tell Seunghyub how bright he is, wants to thank him for getting him through this, wants to confess he wouldn't have made it without him. He wants to tell him that he admires him, deeply, but he ends up mouthing like a fish out of water, he barely gets to choke out a rushed, “You too.”
But Seunghyub's smile gets impossibly wider, his hand, still on Hweseung's shoulder, squeezes even tighter, Hweseung feels his thumb brushing over the skin of his neck, so lightly he doesn't understand how it can tingle so much.
“Seriously, Hweseungie,” Seunghyub breathes out, leaning closer, “great work, I knew you'd be amazing.”
Then he drops his hand, and stares for a little while, as if he's waiting for Hweseung to snap out of it and manage to say more than three words, but Hweseung is still struggling to look away from Seunghyub's smile, softer now, and it makes no sense, but he swears it's twinkling with happiness.
“I'm gonna go shower now,” Seunghyub says, he points over his shoulder and waits for Hweseung to nod before he turns around and walks away.
Hweseung follows him with his eyes and wonders how someone can look so wasted and so bright at the same time.
---
(“My lips and Seunghyub hyung's-” he says, as the start of a joke, but he pauses himself because he doesn't even know where he wants to take it.
“Through acapella, we will join lips” Seunghyub completes it for him, and Hweseung stares at their tiny version of themselves on the phone screen.
Seunghyub turns his head towards Hweseung, he purses his lips as if it to blow a kiss, but breaks out in a wide grin when Hweseung turns to face him.
They both start laughing at the same time, a little too nervously for it all to be a joke, Hweseung admits, as he says “hyung, we're in trouble.”
He can't stop giggling for the next five minutes, eyes fixed on Seunghyub's lips through the phone screen.)
---
Hweseung thought it was impossible to be more nervous than the day of his first showcase, but one day later he's crawling in his own skin.
It's his first time at a music show, and it should be easier. It's only one song in front of a small crowd, with loads of people to help him out. But he can't tear his gaze apart from the television they have in their waiting room, he stares at all the groups with his mouth hanging open until it goes dry. They all look so confident up there, as if they were born to be on stage, and last night, at the showcase, he felt like a baby that was starting to crawl, like a lost child, looking over to Seunghyub to mimic everything he was doing, because he didn't know where to start, how to move, where to stand.
And today, the pressure is even heavier, it tramples his ribs and threatens with crushing his lungs. He's aware of the fact that there's no way he can be at the same level as the other artists, he's aware he's lacking a lot compared to his own bandmates, and he's about to expose himself to the whole country. His throat is still so sore, it feels swollen and raspy, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to make himself go on stage when he can't even trust his singing.
“Hey Hweseung, relax, c'mon,” Seunghyub is sitting beside him, Hweseung has been feeling his eyes on him all this time, but he can't look away from the television to look back at him. “You're gonna do great, you are great. And we're here with you.”
There's a hand on his nape, it doesn't pull nor push, Seunghub just rests it there, gentle, burning, tapping his fingers against the side of Hweseung's neck. It's supposed to calm him down, but Hweseung's heart whirls in his chest, violently.
He finally forces himself to look at Seunghyub, who is smiling warmly at him, as always, as he says “I'm right here.”
And Hweseung thinks, yes, you are, while something that feels like relief runs through his limbs. He still isn't sure where Seunghyub fits, but he looks good by his side.
He knows Seunghyub will never feel like a brother, knows he's way past that point, but he feels as close as family anyway, he wonders how it is possible.
---
Once they wrap up their comeback performance and go back to the waiting room, Jaehyun pulls Hweseung in a tight hug that almost smothers him.
“You were so good!” he screams right into his face, all shiny eyes and white teeth. “You looked so cool! And I was behind you, I'm sure fans were amazed!” he grabs Hweseung by the shoulders and shakes him a little, and Hweseung winces, fakes an annoyed face to push him away, even though he's laughing internally, but his cheeks are hot with embarrassment.
Hun pats his back as he walks by him, a mocking, chirpy look in his eyes. “He's right, you were great,” and he barks out a laugh when Hweseung groans and hides his face on his hands.
He doesn't feel as high as last night, with the thrill of his first long performance running through his veins, leaving a trace of goosebumps all over his skin. He feels light today, as if he's floating, trapped in one of the many dreams he had about his own debut. He's afraid he'll wake up if things get too loud.
“Are you okay?” Seunghyub asks then, a kind hand curled around Hweseung's wrist, he pulls at it lightly to uncover his face. Hweseung looks up at him with his lips pressed in a tight line, trying to stop his embarrassed smile, he's sure he's flushed red all the way to the tip of his ears. “You did such a good job, you should be more than okay,” and Hweseung can't help but whine and drape an arm over his eyes to hide his face again.
“But I mean it!” Seunghyub insists, and Hweseung isn't looking at him, but he can hear laughter in his voice. “I wish I had your voice,” he says before he pats his head and walks away.
And Hweseung stands there for a few minutes, trying to get rid of the wave of embarrassment he's trapped in, wondering if Seunghyub knows that, sometimes, he kind of wants to trade his voice for Seunghyub's stage presence. He feels like a lost child up on stage, like a clumsy duckling, following everything Seunghyub does, but somehow managing to make it look twice more awkward.
---
(Seunghyub claps as soon as Hweseung stops singing, with his eyes turned into half-moons, soft and happy.
“When I'm about to sleep you should come to my room and sing.”
Hweseung giggles, too high-pitched and kinda ridiculous to his own ears, but it comes out before he can do anything to stop it.
“In your ear? Like this?” he asks, sliding closer, leaning in as if he's going to whisper something to Seunghyub. His body is scorching in every part that's pressed up against Seunghyub.
Seunghyub pulls him away, faking disgust, but Hweseung knows him better. He knows how Seunghyub looks when he's flustered, too nervous to be able to wipe the smile off his face, squirming unconsciously in his seat.
So he leans closer again, and stays there.)
---
Hweseung stopped feeling like a stranger a long time ago, but that doesn't mean things don't get difficult, sometimes.
He starts to realize how different everything is for him when they are a week into promotions. Even the smallest things get him all nervous and hyped up, from meeting fans before music shows, to meeting artists after music shows. Everything is so new, he lives in a constant thrill, he's a hyperactive kid with a permanent smile and sweaty hands.
But he feels pretty lonely, in this bubble of excitement and novelty, he has no one he can share his enthusiasm with, much less his nervousness. The other guys go through it all looking just as happy as he is, but there's this calmness surrounding them, something that looks almost like boredom, feels like habit, but is probably experience.
That's when Hweseung becomes aware of how he can't share this experience with anybody, not completely, because he's the only one who's living this for the first time. And newness is much scarier than he thought it could ever be.
He feels it in every single band practice, he feels twice heavier than the other boys look. The endless activities and long schedules are rusting him, it's like he can't go through the day without getting at least ten hours of sleep, he can't stop himself from yawning every half an hour, and his limbs are numb and stiff.
Hweseung never thought it would be this difficult, even though it never stops being exciting, he wishes he could pause the world to sleep for a while.
He's more emotional than he used to be, too. That's what he tells himself, that time is making him softer, all round edges and smooth skin, easy to scratch. That's why even the tiniest things twinge.
When they are in the middle of an interview and the other boys laugh at an inside joke he doesn't get, because he hasn't been around long enough. When they tell anecdotes Hweseung can't remember, because he simply wasn't there. It shouldn't bother him, not at all, but somehow it makes him feel misplaced and crooked, even if his bandmates do everything that's in their power to include him, make him feel like home, pamper him and praise him. It still stings, and he doesn't know how to stop it.
It all kind of explodes once in a while. It's weird, and quiet, and always on the inside. It's like a rock placed in his chest, right under his ribs, between his lungs, threatening to hurt him. And he doesn't know what's gonna happen, he doesn't know if it's gonna break his ribs or crush his lungs, but the uncertainty is heavier than anything else, and suddenly he can't sing, he can't even breathe,
It never lasts long, he always swallows down the feeling so fast he doesn't think anyone else but him notices it. But Seunghyub is always there, with a kind hand on the small of Hweseung's back and kind words rolling off his mouth. Hweseung wonders if he sees more than he tells, if he reads Hweseung better than he allows Hweseung to read him. That's what makes him so dangerous, he thinks, the fact that Seunghyub already knows him too well, and Hweseung doesn't even know when it happened.
In these cases, Seunghyub always drags him to the basement with him after dinner. It's quiet there, away from their busy schedules and noisy dorm, just the two of them playing with verses and notes.
It's one of Hweseung's favourite things since he joined the band, composing. Even though he rarely does anything, every single idea he gets is either too ridiculous or too intimate, even if Seunghyub seems to be able to read him as easily as he reads his music sheets, Hweseung isn't ready to expose himself completely.
So he just stares. He steals Seunghyub's big sweater, wraps it around himself, and stares as he drowns in Seunghyub's scent and the silence of the room.
He thinks he will never get tired of seeing Seunghyub work, and he's aware it might look a little weird from the outside, but it's somewhat calming, the easiness with which Seunghyub is able to write down beats and lyrics. One of Hweseung's goals is to get better than him at this, at writing down his own feelings, one day he'll be ready to undress himself on pieces of paper, and that day, he promises himself, Seunghyub will admire him as much as Hweseung admires him.
Hweseung stares and stares, and wonders how well Seunghyub knows him, how much, how deep.
---
(“Hweseung, hyung cares a lot about you” Seunghyub reads the comment that's on the screen, and his face goes almost blank as he turns around to look at Hweseung.
“Oh, take good care of me” Hweseung says, giggling, feeling flattered and also amused by the wave of jealously he can feel coming out of Seunghyub.
“That's good, you have male fans too,” his expression is indifferent, but Hweseung knows him way to well now, and it looks so fake to him, it's almost painful.
“Hyung, are you jealous?” he asks, his lips curled up in a knowing smile.
“Not at all” Seunghyub replies, shaking his head. And it isn't even a joke, it's simply such an obvious lie for the both of them, they crack up at the same time.
Hweseung is too busy laughing to ask himself what jealously means.)
---
Sometimes Hweseung thinks he should stop staring, but he can't make himself look away.
It isn't his fault, not really. When Seunghyub is right there, beside him, every single day, shining so bright, as if he wants all the eyes on him, as if asking for attention unknowingly. Hweseung once thought that he felt like a moth drawn to a flame, but he's staring so much he's afraid he'll end up burning himself.
There's something addictive about Seunghyub, something enigmatic. They've been together for months now, they are closer than they've ever been, they get even closer each day that goes by. But still, Hweseung can't place him anywhere, can't name him.
It's like an indecipherable riddle, as if Seunghyub is a locked diary whose key has been lost a long time ago and no one knows what it hides, but curiosity itches under your skin, so you can't stop staring at it until you know every corner, every wrinkle, every colour, by heart. But you can't find out what's deep inside it.
Because Hweseung refuses to believe Seunghyub is nothing but kindness, being so gentle all the time must be tiring, dangerous. But he also refuses to believe that Seunghyub is still a puzzle to him, when Hweseung is so exposed and easily readable for him, as if he's inside of the open book Seungyhub keeps on his bedside table and reads a little bit more of it every night.
It's not fair, that Seunghyub knows him so well already. So he stares and stares. He looks at Seunghyub's hair and wonders how soft it'd feel if he threaded his fingers through it. He stares at his damp skin after practice, at the wet clothes sticking to every part of Seunghyub's body. He stares at his long, slim fingers; stares even longer every time they tangle their hands together, waiting for the touch to set his skin on fire, but it never happens. Stares at the soft curve of his lips when Seunghyub smiles, at his board shoulders, at the tired circles under his eyes, at the wrinkles between his brows.
Hweseung stares and stares and tries to read every bit of Seunghyub's self, tries to learn it by heart. He stares and stares and knows that Seunghyub can feel his eyes on him, but never complains about it. He stares and wonders why Seunghyub never looks back.
---
(“This is a sad song, but if I look at Hweseung I keep smiling because he's cute. I can't refrain myself.”
Hweseung wonders for the first time if Seunghyub stares at him while he isn't looking.)
---
He can feel Seunghyub eyes on him, so heavy in the back of his head it almost burns.
Hweseung doesn't look back, though. He keeps facing Jaehyun, blows bubbles at his face and giggles at the weird faces he keeps pulling. He laughs out loud when Jaehyun starts chasing him around the room, his laughter tangles with the fans' laughter, and Hweseung feels so light, so comfortable, these are the moments he likes the most in this new hectic life he's living.
It's always hard when a fansign comes to an end and the whole group stands together facing the fans. Hweseung is out of breath after running for five minutes, he's panting, squeezed between Jaehyun and Seunghyub, their shoulders touching. He feels kinda unstable, an edge of sadness scratches this happy bubble he's currently in, as he looks at the fans there, who are smiling up at them, and wonders when they will be able to meet again.
He moves closer to Seunghyub instinctively, looking for comfort. He looks up, his eyes focused on the side of Seunghyub's face as he tangles his arm around his waist, presses a little bit closer, waits for Seunghyub to give in and look back at him, but he doesn't, he never does.
Seunghyub purses his lips in annoyance, but his right arm ends up draped over Hweseung's shoulders anyway. Hweseung smiles softly, he hides his laughter pressing his face against Seunghyub's shoulder, he smells like embarrassment and jealousy. It's kinda cute.
Hweseung stays close to Seunghyub for the rest of the day, as a form of reassurance, even though he isn't even sure what Seunghyub needs reassurance for, doesn't know why he was upset in the first place, if they don't really share anything, not out loud, at least.
He stays there anyway, tucked under Seunghyub's arm. He's always in awe as how well they fit, it as if Seunghyub's arm was made to be around Hweseung's shoulders. He feels so small when they are pressed up close, but not in a fragile way, he feels warm and stable. Seunghyub's mood improves every time they are this close, a sweet smile that takes over his lips and it seems impossible to erase.
Hweseung wonders how it is possible for them to fit like perfect puzzle pieces, while at the same time Seunghyub feels like an impossible puzzle to complete.
---
(“I really like Hweseungie, so when I see him playing with Jaehyun, I get jealous.”
Hweseung can't help but giggle in disbelief at first, because Seunghyub just admitted to get jealous out loud. Then, he scoffs, because it isn't the whole truth, Seunghyub doesn't only get jealous of Jaehyun. And then he kind of has an inner breakdown, when it hits him that just Seunghyub said he liked him, and this, in the middle of an interview, at a radio show, is the closest they've ever been to talking out their feelings.
Because Seunghyub may act oblivious, and Hweseung may play along and follow suit, because that's what he's best at, following Seunghyub. But he knows him better, he's learning how to read him, slowly. He knows Seunghyub feels as drawn to Hweseung and Hweseung does to him.
They are all still laughing, but Hun throws Hweseung a knowing look, like a warning. He just shrugs and keeps laughing, it doesn't have to be a big deal if Seunghyub doesn't want to make it a big deal.)
---
Hweseung knows he's staring again, on camera this time, but it's deliberately, genuine curiosity is making goosebumps rise in his skin as he waits for Seunghyub to answer, expectant.
“If I met my ideal type,” he says, voice calm and mellow, looking right into the camera, no wavering for a second, so steady no one would think he's lying, “I would tell her straight away how I feel about her. I don't like fooling around and wasting time.”
Hweseung can't help but snicker at the blatant lie. He bows his head down so it isn't too obvious, tries to hide himself from the camera and from Seunghyub, but it doesn't really work, he can feel him tensing up next to him. His eyes are unreadable when Hweseung looks up at him, harder than he thought they could ever be, and his lips are pressed into a tight smile that looks more like an annoyed grimace.
They've been dancing around each other for so long now, tiptoeing around the feelings they both know that are there, but never dare to bring up, it's getting a bit ridiculous.
“What about you, Hweseungie?” and even though Seunghyub is annoyed, his voice still sounds incredibly gentle.
Hweseung should feel bad for laughing at him on camera, but he's getting tired of this game, of pretending nothing's going on even though his body tingles all over when his skin brushes against Seunghyub. He's tired of the bad sneaky glances, the over-the-top compliments, the ridiculous jealousy. This thing between them, whatever it is, he doesn't know how to name it yet, doesn't know if he'll ever be able to, but it's gotten so big it's almost crushing them. It's gotten to a point that Hweseung can only laugh about it while he waits for Seunghyub to finally look at him back and admit that there's something they need to talk about, because otherwise, Hweseung will never be able to name it, he'll never be able to figure out what Seunghyub is to him, and it makes his skin itch.
So he just laughs again at this ridiculousness, he looks at Seunghyub straight in the eyes, his chin lifted up in defiance even though he feels so small next to him, almost vulnerable, “I wouldn't know what to do,” he answers, smiling sweetly. “I guess I'll find out when I meet the right person, it hasn't happened yet.”
And Seunghyub's reaction is exactly how Hweseung thought it would be, his expression falls a little, his mouth hardens for a few seconds, and then he blinks and smiles for the camera, as if nothing has happened, but he reeks of annoyance. Hweseung smiles to himself, the two of them can play pretend until Seunghyub gets tired of it.
Hweseung doesn't know if it's his extreme kindness what doesn't let Seunghyub stay grumpy for longer than fifteen minutes, but after the interview he's bright as ever, warm against Hweseung's side, so bright it's blinding. Hweseung wonders if he feels genuinely bright almost all the time, or if he has gotten too good at pretending.
---
(“My ideal type is someone with cute cheeks,” Seunghyub says. And then, in the middle of a radio show, he looks back at Hweseung, catches him staring with a hand pressed against his own cheek.
His face feels so hot, Hweseung is sure he's three shades pinker than usual. He covers his mouth with his forearm, tries to wipe the smile there, but it doesn't seem to want to leave, and Seunghyub snickers next to him.
He ignores the look of warning Hun throws his way, because it isn’t Hweseung’s fault that Seunghyub always chooses the worst moments to voice the important things.)
---
Hweseung is exhausted most of the time, even if he's slowly adjusting to this new life and the guys always there to keep him going when he feels he's gonna faint for sleep deprivation, he's always low on energy.
The rides back to their dorm after a day full of activities is what he likes most. Usually, he sleeps the whole way back, his body goes numb as soon as he sits in the mushy back seat of the back, as if all the hours he's spent working fall full force onto him at once, beating him up until he can't keep his eyes open.
But other times, he likes to pretend. It's becoming just a big part of his life, playing pretend, he wonders if it's one of the reasons he's tired all the way to his bones.
He closes his eyes, rests his head back and listens, the sound of the wind and speeding cars flows through the open window, it sounds like a lullaby, and the cold air hits his body in a way that makes him shiver, but it's refreshing, it's enough to keep him awake even with his eyes closed.
Seunghyub is always sitting next to him, steady and warm, mumbling quietly to the songs that their driver plays on the radio, whispering to the other boys in an attempt to keep a conversation without waking Hweseung up. It's like a comfortable bubble, the world kind of blurs away during these rides, it's only the five of them and music and the ache on Hweseung's body slowly fading, melting.
Hweseung always ends up sliding in his seat until his head is resting against Seunghyub's bony shoulder, and it's uncomfortable but so warm, he keeps pretending he's asleep so Seunghyub doesn't push him away and he can enjoy the quietness and the heat until the ride is over and he has to force himself to move once again.
There are fingers in his hair, sometimes. Seunghyub places his hand on Hweseung's head, threads his fingers through his locks slowly, and lulls him to sleep without even trying to. Hweseung is bad with words, specially when it comes to Seunghyub, and the only word he can find to describe the pleasant feeling that flows inside him is home . He wonders if someone who doesn't even feel like family can feel like home.
---
Hweseung also loves rainy days. Seunghyub always locks himself up in the basement these days, he tells everyone to not disturb him, rain inspires him the most and he's trying to work. Hweseung is the only one who's allowed to be there with him, because he's quiet, that's what Seunghyub says, but Hweseung knows better.
That's what happens today, it's raining so much the windows are shaking, Hweseung is afraid the rain will turn into hail and they will have to spend the night in the basement. It wouldn't be the first time for Seunghyub, he gets so soaked up in his lyrics he loses track of time, falls asleep over his keyboard and the notes he has scattered all over his desk. Jaehyun always makes fun of him when he gets home the next morning, the keys of his computer marked on his cheeks.
Hweseung just prepared coffee for the two of them, he rests a cup besides Seunghyub's computer and holds the other between his cold hands as he sits beside him again. He takes the cup to his lips, but doesn't sip, he just enjoys the nice smell and the heat that warms up his cheeks.
He stares at Seunhyub over the edge of the cup. He has his eyes focused on his computer screen, the light that comes to form it makes his skin look pale sick, the edges of his eyes are tight and dark, dead tired. He's resting his head over his right hand, his hair all tousled up slipping through his fingers, the other hand is resting over the keyboard, he's been tapping his fingers against it for what feels like hours.
“Are you sure you're fine enough to work today?” Hweseung asks, he blows out cold air over his coffee while he waits patiently for an answer, eyes travelling up all over Seunghyub's face.
“I gotta make the most out of the rainy days,” Seunghyub's hand falls from his head and onto the keyboard, he types a few words just to delete them five seconds later.
Hweseung stretches on his seat trying to glance at the screen to read what has been typed so far, but Seunghyub throws him a look that intends to be threatening, with his eyebrows raised and his lips pushed down, Hweseung thinks he looks adorable.
“I don't want anyone to read what I write unless it's finished, you know that,” and Hweseung just ducks his head and takes a sip from his coffee, it burns his tongue pleasantly.
“Are you writing another sad song?” he asks after a few minutes of just shameless staring, and Seunghyub just nods.
It's always like this with rainy days, rain takes the best out of Seunghyub, but in a sad way. They've been so busy lately, Hweseung and Seunghyub only find themselves in the basement when it's raining or when Hweseung needs to escape . Hweseung has forgotten when was the last time Seunghyub wrote a happy song.
Hweseung leaves his cup of coffee over the table and gets up from his seat. Seunghyub doesn't even take his eyes away from his screen to see where he's going, that's why he's startled when Hweseung drapes his arms around him, jumps a little when he feels Hweseung's chest pressed up against his back.
They aren't unfamiliar to this kind of contact, they always end up tangled up in each other somehow, Hweseung doesn't even know how it happens, it just does, and it feels right, so he lets it happen. But it's always kind of electrifying, Hweseung thinks the feeling should be overused by now, faded, but it always has a new edge to it, something exciting that makes him press a little bit closer each time.
He has his hands clasped over Seunghyub's chest, he can feel it rising and falling with his breathing, and Hweseung hides his face in the crook of his neck when Seunghyub places a hand over Hweseung's. The contrast in temperature makes him shiver a little, Seunghyub's hand is ice cold against his, that has been warmed up by his coffee cup.
“I'm gonna squeeze all the sadness out of you,” he mumbles, quietly against Seunghyub's neck. It's amazing, the way goosebumps show up on Seunghyub's skin when Hweseung moves his lips over it.
Seunghyub moves so fast, suddenly Hweseung is standing with his lower back against Seunghyub's desk, standing between Seunghyub's open legs, staring down at him.
“Stop joking like that or I’ll have to do something to stop you,” Seunghyub says with a smile that's supposed to be dangerous dancing on his lips. He has his hands on Hweseung's sides, and he squeezes lightly, as a threat of a possible tickle fight if Hweseung doesn't behave.
And Hweseung thinks you will never do anything and you know I'm not even joking , but he says neither of those things, he just breaks into laughter. It isn’t a good idea, laughing right into Seunghyub’s face, his shoulders go tense all of a sudden. Even though his touch is still gentle, his hands light as feathers over Hweseung’s hips, as if he might disappear between his fingers if he squeezes a little bit too tightly, his eyes look cold. But Hweseung knows better, it isn’t coldness, it’s hurt.
He knows he should apologize, he didn’t choose the right moment to crack up, but he’s been feeling so overwhelmed lately. Hweseung can’t keep everything bottled up any longer, he’s overflowing, dripping his feelings everywhere, they come out as laughter in the most inconvenient moments, because he doesn’t know how to handle it all anymore, and he still hasn’t learned how to put it all into words.
So he thinks fuck it, as he presses his lips in a tight line to stop himself from laughing and ruining the mood even more. He’ll go by touch because that's the best he can do. He places a hand on Seunghyub’s cheek, it’s so warm against his palm even though the weather is cold, he curls a finger around his ear, traces its curve with his pad, as slowly as he can, until the hurt in Seunghyub’s eyes melts into something else, something softer.
Hweseung can’t name the emotion in Seunghyub’s face right now, but he knows it matches what he’s feeling at the moment, they’ve been matching for a long time now. So he leans in, because he’s tired of waiting, because if they keep stretching time the might run out of it.
Seunghyub’s lips aren’t as warm as his cheeks, they are as cold as the weather. It’s supposed to be tender, just like Seunghyub makes him feel, soft and giddy. And that's how it starts, lips sliding together slowly, dragging out heat as Hweseung feels himself melting into Seunghyub.
He swears his heart has never been this out of control before, not even when he first debuted with N.Flying. He can feel it beating in his wrists, behind his eyes, under his throat, it makes his hands shake slightly, so he fists his fingers in Seunghyub's hair and pulls looking for leverage. And that's when everything stops being soft and gentle.
Everything it's heat and speed suddenly, it doesn't feel like a slow, gloomy rainy day anymore. Seunghyub makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, something between a moan and a grunt, Hweseung isn't sure, but he knows it comes out of desperation. Seunghyub's hands tighten on his hips as he gets up from his seat, and he takes Hweseung up with him, lifts him up so Hweseung has to wrap his legs around his waist in order to keep kissing him. He doesn't want to break away, doesn't want to give Seunghyub time to think, they've had enough of that.
Hweseung doesn't know what's going on around him anymore, he's too busy nibbling at Seunghyub's lower lip, trying to get him to open up for him, but he can hear a distant rustling behind him. Suddenly, he's sitting on top of the desk, with Seunghyub trapped between his legs, pushing himself against him, opening his lips with his tongue so he can deepen the kiss and make Hweseung tremble all over.
He feels like he's falling down, out of breath, and worn out. Hweseung's mind is clouded, his lungs scream for air, but he can't pull away, not when Seunghyub has a hand in the back of his neck and his tongue inside of his mouth, kissing him as if their lives are on the line and this is the only way to save themselves. Hweseung feels like he's suffocating, but at the same time, he feels like he'll choke if he stops kissing Seunghyub. So he massages his fingers in Seunghyub's jawline, gets him to open up even more for him, so he can trace every single corner of his mouth with his tongue, it feels like it's the only way to smoothen the burning feeling in his chest.
Seunghyub pulls away then, but only to trail kisses over Hweseung's cheek, over his jawline, down his neck, until he bites down in the thin skin that covers his Adam's apple. It's like all these months of built-up of whatever it is between them has set him off instead of wearing him out like Hweseung thought was happening, and now he's determined to kill Hweseung through burning touches and biting kisses. Hweseung can just twine his fingers in Seunghyub's hair and let him do, as he breathes out fast and ragged, his skin tingling and hot.
But it all stops suddenly, Seunghyub stops kissing him, but he doesn't pull away though, he's still trapped between Hweseung's legs, his hands are pressing over Hweseung's lower back, his chest heaving against Hweseung's own chest, his chin resting over Hweseung's shoulder, breath fast and loud in Hweseung's ear.
“What a mess,” he mumbles quietly, if his mouth wasn't so close to Hweseung's ear he wouldn't have been able to catch it.
It's sharp and cold, the fear that strikes Hweseung in that exact moment, fear of rejection and regret, maybe he hasn't learned how to read Seunghyub after all, and he's been getting it all wrong all these months. He tightens his legs around Seunghyub's hips, his fingers flex over his shoulders, a weak attempt at dragging out the moment a few seconds more.
But then Seunghyub is giggling softly in Hweseung's ear, still staring behind Hweseung, warming him up again even though he's unaware of his sudden panic.
Hweseung looks back over his shoulder then, and he can't help but join Seunghyub's laughter when he sees the mess on the desk. Seunghyub's computer is dangerously close to the edge of the table, his notes are all wrinkled and stained with coffee, one of the cups is on the floor, shattered, and Hweseung doesn't even remember the sound of it breaking.
“Look what you made me do,” Seunghyub says then, pulling back a little to look at Hweseung in the eyes, “you're dangerous.”
How can Seunghyub think of him as dangerous, Hweseung wonders, when he's the weakest next to him. He stares at him awestruck, at his red kissed lips, his tousled up hair, his deep brown eyes, tired but oh so bright. He's smiling gently, his hands are still on Hweseung's waist, light and kind. He's so soft, all of him, Hweseung wonders how he's gotten so lucky as he leans down to kiss him again.
---
There's no long talks, no fighting, no breakdowns, no regrets, there's only more kissing and so many feelings Hweseung thinks it might be too much. They try to be smooth, try to keep it to themselves, but it's difficult when they can't keep their hands and eyes off each other, can't wipe the smiles off their faces.
They never tell the guys, but Hweseung knows they know. He knows Kwangjin is awake every time Seunghyub sneaks into his bed at night. He knows Kwangjin has told Hun, he sees it in every single threatening glance he throws on their way every time they move towards dangerous topics in the middle of interviews. He doesn't know if Jaehyun is oblivious or he simply doesn't care, but Hweseung can't stop his laughter every time Hun drags him along with him when he's about to stay alone in a room with only Seunghyub and him.
Everything is easier now, even if Hweseung hasn't adjusted completely to this new life yet, at least he has stopped wondering all the time. He doesn't have words for Seunghyub yet, nor for whatever they have, because they haven't given it a name yet, and Hweseung is afraid he might have to make up a new vocabulary for everything Seunghyub makes him feel, because the words that already exist are never good enough.
Maybe he doesn't know what name he should give Seunghyub, but he sure knows where to place him, he fits perfectly next to him.