Work Text:
In retrospect, Guanlin probably could have timed it better. In his defence, the question had been drumming on his consciousness, demanding attention for a few days now and there was something about the way Jihoon looked bathed in the fluorescent light of the refrigerator that made it spill from Guanlin’s lips with little thought. He certainly hadn't expected the way Jihoon jerked in surprise.
The older bit back a curse, rocking back on his heels and rubbing the crown of his head where it had connected with the lip of the refrigerator shelf in his surprise. In pain and confusion, Jihoon squinted up at where Guanlin was leaning on his elbow on top of the fridge door, chin in hand, expression now creased with concern and mild guilt. "Say that again?"
"Want to come home with me?" Guanlin reiterated, straining to maintain the casual tone he’d managed to pull off the first time around.
"With you? To Taipei?" The proposal seemed difficult for Jihoon to compute and Guanlin wondered if that meant his hyung had a minor refrigerator-induced concussion or if maybe he shouldn't have asked at all.
"Next week, when we have time off. I know you might already have plans but…" Guanlin trailed off, now certain that there was no way Jihoon would want to spend time with Guanlin’s family when he could be seeing his own. The whiplash change of conviction pulled a further harried explanation from the younger. "My sister wants to meet you."
Jihoon seemed to have recovered his bearings. "Oh, well , if Guanlinnie’s lovely sister wants to meet me…" he’d trailed off with a smirk and Guanlin, flustered, contemplated closing the fridge door and squishing him.
Jihoon had been serious about his acceptance though, and so Guanlin finds himself practically vibrating with excitement as they board the short flight to Taoyuan International Airport.
For one, Guanlin never gets to sit next to Jihoon on the plane. For all that Wanna One’s schedule is packed with as many international fanmeets as it is with domestic events; for all that they live and breathe travel as much as performance for the sake of filling up the finite days on their calendar; the seat beside Jihoon has never been Guanlin’s. Normally, it’s taken by Woojin or Daniel and Guanlin often finds himself seated beside Jisung or their manager, which is not to say it’s a bad arrangement ー especially since Jisung’s brightness counters the dreariness of long haul flights and their leader will always give Guanlin the best part of the meal, the bread roll, when the midair food service comes around ー but still, Guanlin’s always thought it would be nice to get to sit next to Jihoon for once, not that he’d want to make a fuss out of it.
Really, since this time it is only the two of them, it’s not as if Jihoon has any choice but to sit next to Guanlin but the younger can’t quite keep his excitement contained, catching the affectionate smile on his hyung’s face as Jihoon offers him the much desired window seat. It’s only a two hour flight, hardly long enough for Guanlin to indulge all his inflight seatmate daydreams, like letting Jihoon sleep on his shoulder, but regardless everything appears to Guanlin anew, as if this is his first time on a plane; his first time returning home.
Technically, it isn’t - his first time returning home, that is. Last year, they held a fanmeet in Taipei and Guanlin remembers the thrill of simply existing once again within the space of his hometown, let alone performing there. He wondered if that was how Minhyun, Daniel and Woojin had felt during the Busan One Festival; a serum of pride, awe and nostalgia thrumming through your veins, powering every move, every note, every smile ー finally doing what you were made to do in the place that had made you.
Back then, despite being able to see his parents and sister, there had been time for little else outside their schedule, flying out promptly on their way to the next stop, and so Guanlin’s dreams of showing his friends around his hometown, all the jewels of Taipei and all his childhood haunts, were set aside for the moment. Saved for next time.
Now here they are, next time has become this time, and with a week’s break ahead of them Guanlin hopes he’ll finally have time to show Jihoon all those things, take him by the hand and guide him through all the sights and sounds of the metropolis just like he’d daydreamed about. It’s a pity the other members won't be there for it this time around but Guanlin is willing to admit that it is primarily Jihoon who has featured in such imaginings; it’s the idea of bringing Jihoon home that sparks a special kind of warmth in his chest.
All the same it makes him a little nervous too, and Guanlin can see that he’s not the only one. The way Jihoon fidgets with every little thing from the armrest to the laminated safety guide is quite cute but Guanlin doesn't think twice about sliding his hand into Jihoon’s, linking their fingers together in an attempt at soothing the older’s restlessness. It seems to work, because Jihoon releases a breath and turns his head to meet Guanlin’s searching gaze.
"Nervous?" Guanlin asks lightly, giving his hand a squeeze.
"A little," Jihoon admits with a shrug that belies his earlier tension.
"They’re going to love you," insists Guanlin, by which he means to say; how could anyone not?
"Really?" murmurs Jihoon in Mandarin, receiving a delighted gummy smile from the boy beside him.
"See! You know more Chinese than you think! English too, and with my Korean in the mix to translate, it’ll be fine."
Jihoon is sharper than a lot of people give him credit for, Guanlin knows. Early admittance to ChungAng University is no joke and what with the routine company language lessons for overseas schedules and the time the two had spent in their early days as Jihoon helped Guanlin with his Korean, Jihoon’s knowledge of Mandarin is far from non-existent.
"How do you say ’please tell me all the embarrassing stories you have about Guanlin’? Jihoon asks innocently, tilting his head in faux-thoughtfulness as Guanlin splutters.
Having achieved his desired reaction, Jihoon looks away and laughs, in that carefree open-mouthed way of his that leaves Guanlin a little breathless. Despite making a mental note that he may have to caution his parents and his sister ー oh God, his sister ー against letting slip anything too embarrassing, Guanlin is glad to see some of Jihoon’s nerves dissipate. It seems there was little point in Guanlin taking the window seat after all because the view he ends up staring at the most is not the glowing horizon framed in cloud, but that of the boy sitting beside him, still hand in hand.
If Guanlin didn’t know better, he would have thought his parents and sister had convened a family meeting before he and Jihoon had arrived. The agenda? How best to embarrass Guanlin in as short a time as possible after Jihoon had barely set foot inside the house and changed into the guest slippers.
It starts with greetings that swiftly turn to expressing various thanks as they take their seats in the Lai’s living room; Jihoon in perfectly practiced Mandarin thanking Guanlin’s family for inviting him into their home and then, Guanlin’s father, in all of his endearing bluntness -
“Our Guanlin is a bit young for dating," he begins and Guanlin chokes on his own saliva at the directness, in spite of the language barrier. His older sister Meiyun does a terrible job of disguising her snort of amusement and Jihoon’s eyes flick briefly to Guanlin in slight confusion at their reactions before once again giving Guanlin’s father his dazzling smile and full attention. "He has so much on his plate these days as I’m sure you know, but we want to thank you for looking after him; it puts our hearts at ease to know that he has someone reliable like you looking out for him.”
His mother reaches out and beckons for Jihoon’s hand, clasping it between her own in appreciation, while his father looks at Guanlin expectantly, waiting for his son to convey his words to Jihoon so that the other boy can better understand the nature of their sentiments outside the ‘thank you’ that Jihoon surely picked up, if nothing else.
But Guanlin is too busy being mortified that his parents are addressing Jihoon as a potential boyfriend (or even a current one, he’s not entirely sure) and makes the split second decision that what Jihoon doesn't know won't hurt him. He takes it upon himself to save the both of them from further embarrassment by neatly paraphrasing in Korean; "Mum and Dad want to thank you for looking after me where they can’t."
“Oh,” Jihoon iterates softly, looking pleased but a little bashful nonetheless. “It’s my pleasure. Normally it’s Guanlinnie looking after me, thank you for raising such a capable son,” Jihoon says giving them both a warm smile before Guanlin awkwardly translates the praise into Mandarin.
Then Meiyun is elbowing Guanlin, fiddling with her hands and giving him A Look. Jihoon glances their way in curiosity.
“She wants you to do the- Meiyun would like to see the jeojang,” Guanlin tells him with amusement curling his lips.
Understanding dawns on Jihoon’s face and he turns, more than a little awkwardly, to face her but once he brings his hands up to begin the iconic catchphrase, he’s overflowing with charisma as if he were in front of the camera. He adds a wink to the ending pose, causing Meiyun to erupt into giggles and suddenly Guanlin is finding the whole thing a lot less amusing than it had been.
“I hear I’m your favourite,” Jihoon teases gently in English with a charming smile that Guanlin can see his sister return.
“Like brother, like sister,” she replies in kind, the perfect picture of innocence as she throws her younger brother under the proverbial bus and Guanlin already regrets caving in to her demands.
It’s going to be a long week.
Despite their age difference, Guanlin and his sister are far closer than most people expect them to be, even now there is an ocean between them for the foreseeable future. Sharing more than just the same adorable gummy smile, the terrible twosome loved wreaking mischief around the neighbourhood as children and as they grew older, they remained each other’s trusted confidante and best friend.
Guanlin would tip toe into her room with a mug of tea and a choco pie whenever he noticed her bedroom light was still on, late at night when she was studying for exams. She was almost embarrassingly enthusiastic as she cheered at her baby brother’s first basketball game and each one after that; not a single one missed. Meiyun was the first one he told about the cute senior from the basketball team back in middle school (the one who made his heart hammer as if he’d just finished suicide sprints in the school gymnasium); the first one to see how crushed he was at spotting the aforementioned boy in the arms of a girl at the bus stop on the way home several weeks later.
It was Meiyun to whom Guanlin first voiced his dreams of performing on stage and, placing her delicate hands on his shoulders, she had assured him she’d do whatever it took to get him there. As he nervously proposed the idea to their parents she stood at his side in support, where she always has been and always will be.
He truly thinks the world of Meiyun but of course he’d never tell her that. Just as she’d never admit the stirring in her little four year old self as she held baby Guanlin in her arms for the first time; the moment she’d looked down at that tiny bundle of wrinkled skin and shining eyes and decided he was hers to protect forever and ever.
So needless to say, as much as it had been Meiyun who’d proposed the idea in one of their all too brief phone calls a few months ago, Guanlin has been looking forward to the meeting of his favourite gege and his favourite jiejie for a long time. He loves both Jihoon and Meiyun and hopes they’ll like each other too.
As Guanlin watches them play a game of Spit in the living room as he helps his mother with chopping vegetables for dinner, it occurs to him that perhaps Jihoon and Meiyun get on a lot better than he expected. Not that he’s been paying particularly close attention or anything, but he’s fairly sure that Jihoon, his cunning Jihoon who is merciless when it comes to competition save for when he verses Guanlin, is letting Meiyun win and for some reason her exclamations at each victory are grating on his nerves. Jihoon is good at this card game just like he is at every other, a reputation well-deserved and proven by the number of grinning triumphs rubbed in the face of Woojin who would always challenge a rematch under threat of a physical tussle, or under the nose of Seongwu who would theatrically accuse Jihoon of cheating despite himself never having won against anyone but Daniel.
“Guanlinnie,” his mother begins, noticing her son’s attention is elsewhere. “Be careful how you’re holding th--”
Ouch.
So maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to attempt slicing up daikon without looking at where he was aiming the knife, he thinks as he surveys the shallow cut on the side of his finger. Beads of blood start to well up and he sucks on it in agitation. It doesn’t especially hurt and it’s not terribly serious so he’s not sure why he’s suddenly in such a frustrated mood.
Hearing the tiny yelp of surprise that had escaped Guanlin’s lips, Jihoon stands, chair scraping against the floorboards as he abandons his cards to see if the younger boy is okay. If his expression weren’t one of genuine concern it would almost seem as if he were on autopilot, as if Jihoon were innately wired to respond to any sign of harm to or unhappiness from Guanlin, programmed to override all his other priorities in such moments.
“Guanlin-ah, you silly thing, what have you done?” Jihoon admonishes softly in Korean, taking the other’s boy’s slender hand in his and inspecting the damage, minimal though it is, and Guanlin feels his face heat up at the attention.
The fussing of Jihoon and the consequent pinkness of Guanlin’s ears are silently observed by Meiyun and her mother but the knowing look they share, unnoticed by the boys in question, speaks volumes.
Confusingly, Guanlin’s frustration remains, long after Jihoon has carefully dressed the small cut in a Doraemon bandaid. Long after a new day has dawned, in fact. It still crawls along the nape of his neck and itches across his skin like the humidity that clings to your lungs and clothes in the summer, making packed public transport unbearable for even the shortest journey. Which is weird because it’s only the beginning of spring and they've made sure to avoid peak hour on the MRT by catching the train a little later in the evening than usual.
The two Lai siblings have decided they absolutely must take Jihoon to the night market in Shilin and Guanlin decides that he won't let whatever this weird mood is ruin their night out. It's easy enough to let his giddy excitement overwhelm him, especially when he and Jihoon are holding onto the same pole for balance and their hands are touching just enough to make Guanlin's stomach flutter pleasantly. Especially when this is their first free night out in who knows how long.
Of course, the two idols are wearing face masks just in case, having learned it is better to take precautions where they can but regardless, as they spill from the subway carriage amidst the bustle of commuters and make their way into the street, Guanlin rejoices in their relative invisibility. Everything feels so normal, like this were any other time that he and Meiyun has come here in the past with their parents and he let the sights and the sounds and the nostalgia wash over him. Yet at the same time, he can see the excitement sparkling in Jihoon's eyes and it allows Guanlin the benefit of a euphoric duality; both reminiscing and experiencing everything afresh all at once.
There's something about watching Jihoon happily chew on a mouthful of oyster pancake, that brings Guanlin a special kind of joy. He'd watched eagerly as Jihoon took the proferred plate of one of Guanlin's favourite night market snacks, hoping the other would like it. It seems he does, as he's now on his third one. As he eats, Jihoon's cheeks are puffed out in the epitome of all that is adorable and Guanlin can't help but say as much.
Jihoon shakes his head emphatically and swallows his mouthful in order to object. "Nah, you're wrong."
"Why, because you're Wanna One's resident manly man?" Guanlin goofily imitates the assertion the other often makes.
"Nope, because if we're talking about cuteness, then it's got to be you right?"
Guanlin blinks, flustered at the compliment, but when he opens his mouth to respond Jihoon uses his chopsticks to feed him a piece of oyster pancake, effectively shutting him up.
It's just the two of them now; Meiyun had spotted a couple of friends and promised to meet up with them again later, but Guanlin doesn't mind, happily dragging Jihoon from stall to stall to show him everything. He startles, however, when Jihoon calls out to him, a few steps behind in the crowd of people. Swiftly catching up, Jihoon slides his hand into Guanlin's like it's the most natural thing in the world.
In answer to Guanlin's questioning look, Jihoon just says, "I don't want to get lost."
It's unlikely, really, and even if Jihoon did get lost Guanlin's sure that Jihoon would be able to charm help out of any passer by with a simple smile, language skills or lack thereof be damned.
Still, Guanlin isn't going to point that out, enjoying the warmth of the other's hand in his and determined not to let go for the rest of the evening, even if it means he has to eat with one hand.
Guanlin's still getting used to the idea of being home.
Not just the idea, but the reality, of being home. Which means realising he can give his mother a kiss on the cheek as easily as crossing the room, instead of their usual WeChat message stickers. It means challenging his father to a chess match even if Guanlin is severely out of practice. It means recalling all the little ways his sister gets on his nerves, like taking too long in the bathroom, or talking too loudly on the phone to her friends, or stealing food off his plate but regardless, it’s indescribable, how wonderful it is to spend time with his family again like this. To see them for more than a few rushed hours at the airport or backstage at a concert venue, to really return to them for days on end as if he’d never left.
In the embrace of his sister and under the proud gaze of his parents he can finally lay down all his burdens, all the responsibility, expectations and pressure that come with his job, and simply be Guanlin, their son, not Wanna One and CUBE Entertainment’s Lai Guanlin. The relief of being able to go about his day and undertake the most simple of interactions without having to strain himself to understand the swift Korean or unusual dialect, or focus his energies on constructing his replies like mathematical equations, agonising over pronunciation, is immense.
It is a relief not to have to think so hard about everything . To just be able to exist as himself for this short while. It is a luxury.
And yet, that itch, that bizarre feelings persists, making it difficult for him to fully relax. Always simmering in the pit of his stomach, it spikes again when he is coming back from taking a shower to spot Jihoon and Meiyun all but curled up on the couch together, poring over Jihoon’s phone.
It goes without saying that, given their hectic schedule, Guanlin is exceedingly happy with any opportunity he has to see his family. Yet, as he watches the way his sister latches onto Jihoon’s arm, he’s not sure ‘happy' is exactly what he’s feeling.
Before coming, Jihoon had organised a little folder of photos from Masan and of his family to show them as a sort of buffer in case conversation was difficult and so Guanlin supposes that’s what is taking place but he can’t imagine what photo of Jihoon could possibly be so cute that it necessitates his sister positively cooing over it.
Every photo of Jihoon , Guanlin’s brain helpfully supplies but it doesn’t suppress the slight nausea welling up within him at the sight. The sight of his sister being so... embarrassing . That’s it.
More than a little curious, Guanlin wanders over to stand behind them but doing so startles Jihoon so much that he locks his phone reflexively and the screen goes dark. Not understanding why Jihoon would be so jumpy, Guanlin speculates that perhaps he is shy at having been found acting so blatantly cosy with Meiyun in the middle of the house where everyone could see. Guanlin is so preoccupied by the thought that he doesn’t even realise the split second view he had caught of Jihoon’s screen was displaying one of the selcas he and Jihoon had taken together backstage at a music show.
"That reminds me," Meiyun says when she sees Guanlin and begins reaching for something on the coffee table. Something that looks very much like a photo alb--oh no, we are not doing this.
Meiyun barely has time to say "Here are those baby photos of Guanlin that I promised!" before Guanlin is lunging across the back of the sofa, trying to wrestle one of the family photo albums from her grasp.
He thought he'd hidden those well enough but Meiyun is sneaky and was always the best at finding him in hide and seek. Jihoon, the unhelpful bastard, is simply laughing his head off as the two siblings fight for possession of the album and Guanlin wonders if he'd still be laughing if it was his naked baby photos on the line.
(It ends with Meiyun sitting on a red-faced Guanlin's stomach as he attempts to curate the picture show as best he can, hoping to preserve whatever is left of his dignity. He'd forgotten there was photographic evidence of that time Meiyun had dressed him up in her princess costume and Jihoon skilfully dodges the flailing kick Guanlin aims his way as he leans forward to take a photo of it with his phone.)
Don't get him wrong, Guanlin is glad, relieved, happy even, that Jihoon and his sister are getting along well. They just...might be getting along a lot better than he expected and he doesn't know what to think. He knew Meiyun liked Jihoon the most out of the Wanna One members, after all, that's why she'd asked Guanlin to invite him to stay with them, right? Well, he's Jihoon so Guanlin can't really blame her - but there's a tangible difference between the thought of Meiyun fangirling over a Park Jihoon fancam and the reality of the two of them sharing the couch together and it, for want of a more perceptive interpretation, makes Guanlin nervous. Like he's set into motion something that he won't like the end of. Something he won't be included in. For Jihoon's part, Guanlin isn't sure if he's playing things up to be polite or if he just genuinely likes Meiyun.
They're part way through a family movie night when Guanlin has to double check he’s seeing things right as, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Meiyun feeding Jihoon some of the popcorn. As far as Guanlin is aware, Jihoon has two fully functioning hands so he sees no reason why the older can’t just eat his own popcorn.
Rolling his eyes, Guanlin turns his attention back to the movie, deciding to train his eyes on the Korean subtitles at the bottom of the screen as a poor excuse for the study he has been neglecting these last few days. Or at least he tries to. It’s a bit hard to concentrate when his peripheral vision catches Jihoon returning the favour.
As the credits roll, Guanlin can’t hold back a yawn so big it nearly cracks his jaw and once he’s recovered, he spots Jihoon sitting beside him, gazing at him with an expression that seems somewhere between affection and amusement.
“Somebody’s tired,” Jihoon remarks fondly. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says, placing his hands on Guanlin’s shoulders and steering him towards their shared room after bidding goodnight to the rest of the family.
His parents, Guanlin muses tiredly as he and Jihoon stand shoulder to shoulder at the sink brushing their teeth, musn’t really think that he and Jihoon are dating because as accepting as they are, there’s no way they’d let them share a room if they did.
They would make Guanlin and Meiyun share a room in order to give Jihoon his own. Already half-asleep, Guanlin shudders at the thought of having to deal with his sister’s snoring.
It’s not until he hears a chuckle from Jihoon beside him that Guanlin realises his lazy movements have caused his toothbrush to miss his mouth entirely, instead smearing toothpaste foam across his cheek. Guanlin pouts at himself in the mirror, about to half-heartedly swipe at it, when Jihoon takes Guanlin’s chin in his hand and carefully rubs it off with the pad of his thumb. Surprised, Guanlin nearly chokes at the sudden contact.
He must have the entire toothpaste tube smeared across his cheek by the way Jihoon leaves his hand there, thumb stroking lightly over Guanlin’s skin, looking up at the younger as if deep in thought.
The last two brain cells in Guanlin’s head that haven’t fallen asleep yet struggle to produce coherent thought. He thinks the look in Jihoon’s eyes might mean something. Maybe. He’s not sure why exactly he thinks that or what that meaning could possibly be.
A conundrum for a future, more awake Guanlin, it seems.
Guanlin wants to ask Jihoon what he’s thinking about, wants to maybe ask why Jihoon, normally taking time to warm up to skinship, has so quickly become so comfortable with Meiyun. But he can’t because his mouth is still full of toothpaste foam and thankfully he has enough presence of mind left to stop himself from trying, thus avoiding dribbling it down his chin and onto Jihoon’s hand.
Guanlin watches Jihoon as he suddenly drops his hand, almost as if he could sense the near miss, and averts his eyes back to the mirror. Blankly, Guanlin turns away and self-consciously spits into the sink.
His parents have set up a mattress on the floor beside Guanlin’s bed where Jihoon has been sleeping for the past few nights but as they lie there with the lights off in supposedly contented silence, Guanlin feels less and less content and wishes more and more that he could crawl into Jihoon’s arms like they did so often at the old dorm.
“Hyung,” he says, watching in the dark as the vague form of Jihoon turns from staring at the ceiling to staring at Guanlin.
“Yes?”
“You’re too far away.”
Jihoon’s breath hitches slightly.
Guanlin must be hearing things.
“I’m right here.”
“No, you’re over there ,” Guanlin objects, pout obvious in his voice even if Jihoon can’t see it in the dark. “I want you here,” he emphasises kicking back the covers to give Jihoon room to slide under them.
Jihoon doesn’t say anything, but then there’s a rustling of sheets and a warm body sliding into bed next to him wrapping their arms around Guanlin’s torso.
“You’re spoilt,” Jihoon admonishes, lips moving against Guanlin’s hair.
“You spoil me , ” Guanlin corrects smugly as he allows sleep as well as Jihoon’s warmth to finally overtake him.
“Only because I want to,” he thinks he hears Jihoon say but the edges of Guanlin’s consciousness are already blurring into a dream.
When he wakes, however, the bed is far too cold and far too spacious for Guanlin’s liking. He lays there, gazing up at the ceiling where there are still a few glow in the dark adhesive stars scattered about, remaining from his younger years, and the stillness, the quiet, the way not even a gentle breeze stirs the contents of his room almost convinces him that everything up until now has been a dream. Perhaps all that has come to pass, his audition at CUBE, his time on Produce 101, his debut, has all been but a fairytale spun by the desperation of his heart and mind. Perhaps he has never left this city, never met with fortune enough to escape the life of the old Lai Guanlin to pursue his dreams, and thus never met Park Jihoon.
Turning to lie on his side, Guanlin’s eyes fall to the indent in the mattress beside him and his stomach tightens at the sight; now empty but evidence enough that Jihoon was once there, that he exists and so does the life Guanlin now leads. With an airy sigh he stretches out an arm and runs his palm against the sheets, over the space where Jihoon was last night. He still remembers the warmth and the weight of Jihoon’s arm around his waist, head nestled in Guanlin’s chest, as if the memory is fresh and new and a first. As if he’s never climbed into his hyung’s bed in the dorm. As if the two have never fallen asleep together like the proximity and the tangle of their limbs will be enough to ward away the anxiety, the uncertainty and the hostility that lurk in the shadows of the early morning when they’ve returned from practice just before the sun rises.
With a groan, he rises, now convinced of Jihoon’s corporeality and reminded that he is just metres away elsewhere in the house, most likely in the kitchen or the lounge. The desire to see Jihoon bubbles up in his chest, powerful enough to motivate Guanlin to leave his warm bed and so, rampant bed hair and sleepy-eyed, Guanlin pads out of his room on bare feet only to find that the quiet atmosphere persists beyond it. His father is at the table reading the newspaper and a quick glance out the kitchen window reveals his mother out watering the garden under the dappled morning sunlight.
His sister’s raucous laughter is not to be heard, nor is she to be seen.
Neither is Jihoon.
His father must sense his confusion, looking up from his newspaper to comment, “Meiyun and Jihoon went out for some sightseeing this morning. I think they had Liberty Square in mind.”
The lightness that had suspended Guanlin in time momentarily upon waking is now totally dissipated at his father’s words. Instead, he is weighed down by the disappointment curdling in his gut at the thought that the two had gone off on their own that day, without him, in spite of how much he’d been looking forward to being the one to show Jihoon around their city.
Meiyun is closer in age than he is to Jihoon so they must have more in common, Guanlin thinks as he wordlessly moves to open the fridge, taking out the large bottle of milk tea. Jihoon must be relieved to have someone he can spend time with who’s more on his level; who isn't still a high schooler, his line of thought continues, a little chagrined as he stubbornly lifts the bottle to his lips to drink straight from it rather than bother pouring it into a glass. A habit he'd gotten into back at the dorm in spite of all the times Minhyun had complained about how unhygienic it was, watching Guanlin pass a carton of juice or whatever to Sungwoon for him to take a gulp too.
He is startled out of his thoughts when a sharp rapping on the kitchen window makes him look up. His mother is staring accusingly at the bottle in his hand and he can’t help but break into a slight laugh as he tries to look innocent, quickly screwing the lid back on. The amusement quickly fades as he surveys the kitchen and imagines his two favourite people joking together as they make breakfast, sitting at the counter and planning the day ahead whilst Guanlin slumbers unaware, alone in his room.
Far from hungry and uninterested in the prospect of his own breakfast, Guanlin returns to his room. Nothing holds his interest, not video games nor his Korean homework nor scrolling through Weibo and the sight of Jihoon’s belongings in his room but yet, no Jihoon, becomes almost too disappointing to bear so Guanlin flings his blanket over his head in an effort to hide them from view.
To hide from the imposing reality that even within his own home Guanlin isn’t Jihoon’s first choice. To hide from the feelings that he latently acknowledges but for the first time, he can’t fight them back as they threaten to overwhelm him.
He knows he’s not the only one who has to deal with expectations, all the other members keenly feel the eyes of the public and the opinions of netizens weighing upon them, but for Guanlin he still remembers the skepticism, the confusion about why and how he even made it into Wanna One when his skills couldn’t compare to the rest.
Even though it’s been months, he still carries those words with him, finds it hard to forget; the task made impossibly harder by the fact that he quietly agrees with them. Usually it fuels him to work even harder but everyone has bad days, and it’s at those times that the disparaging, dismissive words seep under his guard, infect his determination and disempower him to the point that he finds it hard to even look in the mirror.
This week’s break was meant to be an escape from all that but, he supposes, he can’t escape not being good enough, no matter how far he travels. Not good enough for this life he's chosen for himself and certainly not good enough for the Park Jihoon who captured the hearts of the nation with just a wink.
Guanlin is so well enveloped in his blanket cocoon that he figures he can reasonably pretend not to have heard the front door opening and the sound of excitedly chattering voices carrying from the hallway. It is harder to maintain the pretence of not noticing the way his bedroom door creaks open and- even harder still to ignore the person who has launched themselves onto his bed.
He knows who it is without even having to look. Meiyun has never been one for subtlety.
Blearily he twists in an attempt to face her but his legs are tangled in the blankets so all he can manage is a reproachful look over his shoulder.
“Go away, I’m sleeping.”
“No you’re not.”
“Yes. I am. Or I was, before you used my bed like a trampoline and woke me up.”
“It didn’t look like you were sleeping,” Meiyun protests showing no sign of intending to leave. “It looks like you’re moping.”
“I’m not moping.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No I’m not.”
“You so are.”
“I’m not!” he grouches sitting up and fixing her with a frown.
“Really? Because Mum and Dad said you haven’t left your room since this morning and it looks like you’ve been pouting up at the ceiling from beneath your blanket kingdom ever since. You didn’t even come out for the Rap of China repeat airing this afternoon. I don’t need my well-earned Bachelor’s degree in Lai Guanlin Interpretation to see you’re moping.”
Guanlin doesn’t say anything, just stares down at his hands. He knows she’s right but he doesn’t want to admit it because, isn’t it too childish? He can’t help the way he feels but isn’t reacting like this just highlighting the reason why the older two probably wanted some time without him?
“Mum and Dad are worried about you,” she continues. “ I’m worried about you.”
He shifts uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed and now a little guilty.
“Jihoon’s worried about you too.”
Guanlin stiffens, outward reaction belying the way butterflies erupt in his stomach at the thought of Jihoon quietly inquiring of his parents as to how Guanlin is doing, concern creasing the perfect skin of his forehead.
I must be obvious, Guanlin thinks. I must be so, so obvious, because when he looks up Meiyun is regarding him with a contemplative look more serious than he’s seen her in a while.
“Is it that you wanted to spend some time by yourself? Or is it really that you wanted to spend time with a certain someone ?”
Okay, scratch that. Whatever seriousness Meiyun may have exhibited is completely obliterated by the way she intones the end of her question. The awkwardly waggled eyebrows don’t help either.
He can feel himself start to blush so he turns to bury his head in his pillow. Unfortunately, Meiyun pulls it out from underneath him, causing his head to drop with an uncomfortable jolt onto the mattress, forcing him to look at her.
“C’mon, LinLin,” she encourages more softly as she lays the pillow across her lap and pats it invitingly. “Talk to jiejie.”
With a sigh, Guanlin extricates himself from the mess of his blankets and leans across to lay his head in his older sister’s lap. He feels the tension begin to leave him like a river giving way to the ocean as she begins to card her fingers through his hair.
“It’s silly,” he mumbles, wanting to explain himself but still feeling like there’s something holding him back.
“It’s not silly,” Meiyun insists softly. “Especially if it’s upset you enough to make you hole yourself up in here all day.”
He’s mindlessly tracing patterns on the sheets beside them when he says, “Isn’t it silly that I wish I was his favourite? That’s not how things work, right?"
“Jihoon’s favourite what?”
“Lai sibling,” is what he says but in reality he wants to be Jihoon’s favourite everything. Favourite dongsaeng, favourite member, favourite friend. In reality, he’s none of those things.
“Guanlin. Are you saying you think Jihoon likes me more than you?” The surprise is evident in her tone even if he can’t see her face clearly.
He shrugs as best he can from his position in response.
“We could have a million other siblings and Jihoon would still like you best. I’m willing to bet Jihoon likes you best out of all seven billion people on the planet. Except for maybe his mother.”
Guanlin turns so that he’s looking up at Meiyun and she can see the unimpressed expression on his face. “Jie, now you’re the one being silly.”
His older sister heaves a sigh and uses her index finger to flick Guanlin between his eyes. "You think I wanted you to bring him here because I like him?"
Guanlin nods mutely before Meiyun continues with an emphatic but affectionate shake of her head. "No, Guanlinnie ー I wanted you to bring him home because you like him."
"I don’t--" he breaks off at the sight of her skeptically raised eyebrow.
"We watch your interviews, we watch your TV appearances, we see the way you look at him," she says. "We know you, Lin - and we see the way he looks at you too."
"Jihoon-ge doesn't--"
" Doesn’t he?"
God, he’d forgotten how annoying it was when she cut him off every other sentence.
“It’s just fanservice, jie,” he explains, only for her to roll her eyes.
“You think I don’t know the difference? I’m older than you, don’t you think I know these things?” she sniffs. “Where are the fans in this household then, hmm? Who is he performing for now?”
“Aren't you forgetting you’re Jihoon’s number 1 fan?”
“I’m your number 1 fan, doofus,” she punches him playfully in the shoulder. “Besides, that position is already taken - by you.”
“ I am not! ” he noisily objects in spite of his older sister threatening to smother him with a pillow.
Once their customary tussle is over Meiyun says, only slightly out of breath, “I’m sorry if I’ve been hogging Jihoon the last few days. I just wanted to get to know my future brother-in-law--” Guanlin groans and buries his face in his hands, “--and, honestly, we have quite a bit in common.”
“Like what?” Guanlin asks, peeking through his fingers and trying not to sound bitter.
“Like the fact we both love you to bits.”
“ Jie!” he groans in embarrassment, wrestling the pillow from her grasp and seeking to suffocate himself with it of his own accord.
“Come on out,” she says getting up and tugging on his hand. “It’s dinnertime soon, we’re having hotpot.”
Guanlin perks up at that and Meiyun laughs before affectionately adding, “You might want to brush your hair first, though.”
As she leaves, a quick look in the mirror reveals he has a pretty severe case of bed head and he can’t help but giggle as he tries to flatten it out as best he can. Giving up on the one tuft defiantly sticking out at the base of his neck, he quietly makes his way into the living room to find everyone else is already seated at the table.
“We’re glad you’re feeling better, sweetheart,” his mother says in response to his murmured apology as takes his place in the empty seat beside Jihoon, avoiding the other boy’s eyes.
As they link hands to say grace, Guanlin tries to focus on his father thanking Jesus for the food and the company rather than the way Jihoon has grasped his fingers more delicately than usual, as if scared Guanlin may break or be scared away like a startled deer if he were to hold on too tight.
The implication then being, that Jihoon wants to hold onto Guanlin tightly at all.
When dinner finishes, Guanlin doesn’t think he’s ever seen the table cleared so fast as he watches, stunned, as his family evacuate the room, leaving him and Jihoon very much alone.
Clearly his sister’s meddling knows no bounds, he thinks staring down at the grain of the table.
“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks in that direct way of his and the nervous tension in the air makes Guanlin feel slightly sick.
“Mmhmm.”
Guanlin, is apparently not good at acting either, because Jihoon doesn’t sound convinced.
“Lin, look at me,” he urges. “Did I- did I do something?”
Instead, Guanlin looks up at the ceiling, willing his eyes to stop watering. “It’s not a big deal. I was thinking of taking you to Liberty Square tomorrow but it’s not a big deal. I just- missed you. A bit.”
Maybe if he says it enough he’ll convince the both of them.
It's not a big deal.
I just missed you. (But only a bit.)
Jihoon looks at a loss. “Guanlin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. You see me everyday, I figured you’d want some time alone to spend with your parents.”
Guanlin feels silly again because all Jihoon was doing was being considerate like always and they do see each other everyday. That’s more than Guanlin sees his parents and of course he’s missed them more than anything else in the world-- but still, learning of Meiyun and Jihoon traipsing off without him had hit a nerve, had rubbed salt into a pre-existing wound. What’s more, Guanlin can’t help but be irked by the way Jihoon takes for granted that they are within each other’s reach so constantly - because, there will come a day very soon when they will no longer see each other across the breakfast table or be able to link hands on the sofa as the members settle in for a rare movie night and Guanlin is yet to determine just how he’s going to recover from that loss. Maybe it won’t be as much of a loss for Jihoon, but Guanlin will have to reckon with it regardless.
“I won’t always,” Guanlin says without really thinking. Jihoon hums softly for him to continue, apparently not understanding his point. “I won’t always see you everyday. Not when- not after…”
Disbandment isn’t something they like to acknowledge explicitly, an unspoken, mutual agreement that it’s a waste of the precious time they have together as Wanna One to be caught up on their imminent end but that doesn’t mean it never crosses their minds. Guanlin lets the implication hang in the air and he knows that Jihoon gets it because the older is seizing his hands and covering them with his own smaller ones.
“We’ll see each other plenty, don’t you worry. This hyung is never going to let you go, Lai Guanlin.”
The younger blushes at the reassurance, staring down at their hands.
“You might have to be the one to come visit me, though. You know the address of the Maroo basement, right?” Jihoon continues, poking fun to try to lighten the mood.
A scandalised gasp escapes from Guanlin’s lips and he pulls his hands from Jihoon’s so he can use them to slap at the other. “Don’t joke about that!” he exclaims with a pout but he’s biting back a smile and Jihoon’s is on full display.
“I’m not coming to visit you now,” Guanlin continues, crossing his arms. “You’re mean.”
“What? No, you have to come see me!”
“I’ll come see you at your concert, hyung, how’s that?”
“My concert?”
Guanlin nods. “Next year. When you have a concert make sure to invite me. Make sure not to let them keep you away from the stage where you belong. Or I’ll be upset.”
“Upsetting you is the worst,” Jihoon agrees. “I guess I’ll just have to do as you ask.” He watches as a pleased grin stretches Guanlin’s cheeks.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” And then Jihoon is scooting his chair closer, swooping in to press a kiss to Guanlin’s cheek as if to prove his intentions. Whether or not he intends to make Guanlin’s heart stop, he succeeds.
“I always keep my promises,” Jihoon says watching in satisfaction at the way Guanlin blushes, the younger no doubt remembering the way he had fulfilled their last of such promises, when the younger had bargained for a kiss on the cheek should they both make top 11 and giddily requested its deliverance live on national television.
(Although what he may not know is that, had he been bolder, Guanlin might have bargained for a very different type of kiss entirely. Perhaps not on broadcast, though.)
Guanlin can only watch, starstruck, as Jihoon leans in again, painstakingly slowly, to press a kiss to his other cheek.
“Y-you’re getting carried away,” mumbles Guanlin, flustered, hand instinctively reaching up to touch the place where Jihoon’s lips had once been.
Jihoon seems to take that as a challenge, because he leans forward to deliberately press another kiss to Guanlin's forehead, then his nose, and then--
Guanlin freezes, in thought, in breath, in hope, as Jihoon's lips travel down - so, so close and Guanlin's Jihoon-befuddled brain is convinced for a moment that the older is going to kiss him for real.
His eyes drift closed of their own accord only to find the tender weight of Jihoon's affection pressed against his chin instead. Guanlin's eyes snap open in time to see the sparkle of mischief in Jihoon's own but the soft pecks continue until the younger is a giggling, blushing mess lurching forward to bury his face in Jihoon’s shoulder.
Laughing in spite of himself, Jihoon presses one final kiss to the crown of Guanlin’s head, murmuring into his hair, “I’m not going to leave you. Do you believe me now?”
He does. He really, truly does believe Jihoon's words but forming some of his own is a bit beyond Guanlin at the moment.
When the younger doesn’t respond aside from burrowing deeper into his shoulder, Jihoon teasingly adds, “Do I need to keep going?”
Before Guanlin can reply, a voice sounds from behind them, causing both boys to blush and break away from each other.
“Please don’t,” begs Meiyun from the doorway. “I left my phone on the table and I’d really like to be able to retrieve it without being scarred for life by my baby brother and his boyfriend,” she drawls.
Guanlin spots the device sitting innocuously on the table and all but chucks it at his sister when passing it over, quite sure that she’d peered into the room looking for more than just her phone. He’ll get her back for that later.
After she’s left them alone once again, Guanlin hears Jihoon ask, “So your whole family thinks we’re dating, huh?”
Whirling back to face him in shock, Guanlin asks, “You could understand that?”, realising that Jihoon must have understood what his parents had said back on the very first day too.
In response, the older just smiles innocently and Guanlin reminds himself never to underestimate Park Jihoon.