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“Hyung, are you serenading me?”
They’re in the middle of rehearsal when Hweseung asks him, all dimpled smile and mischievous eyes. Seunghyub swallows around the rapidly forming lump in his throat, tries to ignore how Jaehyun ‘accidentally’ lets his sticks hit the snare drum.
To be honest, he hadn’t exactly been planning on it. Somehow, as the song went on, putting the last touches to their comeback preparations, he’d just gravitated towards Hweseung, started singing to him instead of towards the stained glass where the crowd will be, in just a few days. It’s hard to resist, really, when Hweseung is right there, his voice echoing through the room and soothing Seunghyub’s soul, singing the words Seunghyub wrote for him, to him. Of course, Seunghyub hasn’t really told anyone that.
Not even Hweseung.
Seunghyub wipes his brow, fiddles with the settings on his mic. “From the top?”
He doesn’t miss the way Hweseung raises an eyebrow at him, but thankfully, the younger man complies and they both turn back to the glass. In the reflection, Seunghyub can see Jaehyun and Hun making faces at each other, their preferred form of communication, and he’s almost glad he can never quite understand what they’re implying.
**
He always gets nervous.
Things have been different since February, since the charts and the trophies, but when it comes down to it, Seunghyub is always nervous about the music. He flips through his notebook, bits and pieces of lyrics, the first draft of spring appearing before his eyes when he lands on the right page.
His fingertips trace the words and he remembers when he wrote them, seeing the cold sun of late winter reflected in Hweseung’s eyes, watching a smile bloom across his face every time he’d look out to the crowd and hear their song chanted back to them.
What a foolish and beautiful thing, to be in love.
“Feels good when it’s over.” Hweseung’s voice coming from the corridor precedes him before he stumbles into the room and nearly collapses on top of Seunghyub. “Oh, did I interrupt some deep thinking?”
He shifts to align his body to Seunghyub’s, supports his head with one hand. The way it makes his cheek puff out is too adorable for Seunghyub to stay still, so he gently pokes a finger at it and feels his heart give out just a little when Hweseung smiles.
“Are you going to do that when we’re out there?” Hweseung pokes him back.
Seunghyub twists his neck a little to feign biting Hweseung’s finger. “Maybe. On the chorus hook?”
He bumps his fingertip against Hweseung’s cheek twice, ‘dung dung’ , humming in rhythm to demonstrate. Hweseung leans into it and then he scrunches his nose up and oh my god , if Seunghyub wasn’t completely infatuated with him before, he definitely is now.
“You know, I thought it was cute.” Hweseung throws an arm over Seunghyub’s chest. “Jaehyun’s just jealous, he wishes he had a hot guy serenading him on stage.”
Ah, so we’re back to this.
“I didn’t mean to-” Seunghyub starts. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be like, a thing , but…”
Hweseung’s grip tightens a little, like an encouragement.
“It’s hard not to sing to you, when all my love songs are for you.”
If Seunghyub wasn’t lying down, he’s fairly certain he’d pass out from how frantically his heart is beating right now. Some cool guy he is.
He feels a hand gently running up his chest, settling there for a moment to feel the rhythm.
“You really are a big romantic, deep down.” Hweseung’s voice is softer then, not a hint of mockery.
Seunghyub lifts his own hand to settle on top of Hweseung’s. “And terrible at hiding it, huh?” it feels better to say it of his own accord. At least, Hweseung seems to agree.
“I don’t mind it.”
The glint in Hweseung’s eyes tells Seunghyub that he means it. With the way their life is now, it’s not that often they find moments of respite like this, listening to the muted sound of life going on in the dorm, feeling the way their hearts beat in counterpoints, finding new ways to fall deeper into each other.
“I hope I never stop being this in love with you.” Seunghyub murmurs, closing his hand around Hweseung’s, still on top of his own heart.
Hweseung smiles, wide and bright, and his cheeks do that goddamn thing again that makes Seunghyub feel like it’s the first time they met all over again.
“I’ll have to do my best then.” Hweseung purrs, and then he kisses Seunghyub, soft and sweet. Every second that he lingers is another line in Seunghyub’s notebook. “So you don’t lose your inspiration.”
Seunghyub wonders if Hweseung will ever understand that being just like this, himself and here in this space, is the best already.
**
It’s burning hot under the stage lights but there’s a light and cooling breeze in Seunghyub’s heart.
As the song gears up for its climax, his body moves of its own accord, swaying with the music as he sings. When he looks across the stage he finds Hweseung, his mic stand abandoned, looking back at him as his voice fills out the room.
Somewhere, deep in the crevices of Seunghyub's heart, a flower blooms.