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Time makes a mockery of him as his alarm clock blinks at him, neon green cutting through the sunlight.
It's the threshold of dawn, when the sky can't quite decide what color to be yet, but Doyoung's usual irritation at dragging himself out of bed is overshadowed by the fact that for once, he's not exhausted.
For all the practice he did yesterday, he'd expected to wake up feeling more like a lead weight than a mass of bones and muscle, but Doyoung is pleasantly surprised to find that yes, he can move, and no, his nerve endings are not screaming in agony. If he were a morning person he would hum his happiness, but as it is all his lack of soreness does is cause a spring in his step as he crawls to the kitchen in search of sustenance.
He’s reminded of his unfamiliarity with the 127 dorm’s kitchenette as he spends at least two minutes rummaging around to find a spoon, gracelessly sliding open drawers until he finds what he needs. The last drawer shudders close with an awkward slam, and Doyoung winces as he drops the spoon into his bowl and it sinks soundlessly through the depth of milk. Cereal is not what he's used to eating for breakfast, but a whole colorful array of it was already available around when he moved to this dorm, and if there’s one he’s learned as a trainee it’s that calories are precious.
He munches, resigned, flicking mindlessly on his cell phone with one hand as he spoons cereal flakes into his mouth with the other, and only when he hears the shuffling of footsteps does he turn languidly in the direction of the doorway.
He’s greeted with the disapproving face of Taeil, who only blinks disconcertingly at him, mousy hair falling into his eyes as he cants his head slightly and rests a single hand on his hip.
“Doyoung,” he greets, resigned. “Honestly you’re the last person I expected to see, but I’m glad it’s just you. My roommates were wondering what the loud noise was.”
Their oldest stifles a yawn as he scrubs at his eyes, looking like lethargy personified, and Doyoung can’t help but feel guilty. For want of a spoon, he thinks idly.
“Sorry, hyung. I didn’t know the drawer would slam shut like that.” To his credit, he refrains from eating further as he delivers the apology, running his thumb over the handle of the spoon.
“It’s fine.” Taeil waves him off lazily, and seems about ready to end this pre-dawn rendezvous, when his expression shifts from pained to inquisitive. “Doyoung, why are you even awake anyways? I know you, and it's about five hours too early for you to even consider being awake.”
Doyoung's lips part, a weak retort poised at the tip of his tongue, when his brain chooses that exact moment to inform him that it's ten past six, and none of the other members sans Taeil have even shown up in the kitchen, much less eaten.
And Taeil, patient Taeil, is standing there looking rumpled and sleepy, and even if sleepy is his default setting that still doesn't explain why he would be heading to practice in pajama pants instead of athletic ones.
“Because..,” he starts, his famously loquacious tendencies failing him, “...it's Monday? We have practice?”
“Doyoung,” Taeil intones, as gently as can, even as his expression strains. He looks like he's actively holding in a sigh, and Doyoung feels a sense of intuitive dread creating over him.
Hs reaches for his phone still on the table and quickly taps the home button. His lock screen lights up to inform him that no, it is not Monday, and yes, he is a fool.
“Yeah,” Taeil says, relieved at the apparent surprise on the younger's face. “It's Sunday. You should get some more rest. I know I will.”
Doyoung nods numbly as Taeil bids him a farewell and slips away quietly, if only to give Doyoung the chance to save face.
---
But it's not just an embarrassing mistake, Doyoung muses as he wanders back to his room and plants himself on his bed.
It can't be, because Doyoung distinctly remembers the details of his day from yesterday, and they're sharper than any dream he's had before. The lactic acid stinging through his muscles during practice, the savory taste of the kimbap he wolfed down for lunch, the exhaustion that weighed down his eyelids as he settled down to sleep: they seemed too visceral to be figments of his wandering mind.
Doyoung groans. Usually he would be one of the first to revel in an extra day to sleep in, but the surrealness of the situation tugs on him, preventing him from falling back asleep even as he cocoons himself in the mess of blankets on his bed.
The facts of the situation click against one another uselessly in his head, refusing to mend together, and the longer he thinks about it the more questions he has.
Tragically, ten minutes of wallowing over his existential crisis does little in the way of clarification, and he's ready to chalk up the confusion to an apparition of his overworked mind. That is, until a cursory glance over his desk persuades him to check his planner.
Yesterday he'd sat crosslegged on the practice room floor, a marker twirling in his slim fingers as he mapped out his schedule for the rest of the week: a routine task for his Sunday evening. If yesterday had existed at all, and he isn't losing his mind, then his planner should be neatly marked up exactly the way he remembers it.
Having strategically placed his bed and desk the closest possible distance apart, he only needs to lean over to swipe the leather-bound notebook off his desk, and when he flips to the latest page the answer is there. Or rather, not there.
The pages are pristine, completely blank of his carefully penned timeslots and meticulous memos. There's no trace of the highlighters he uses to color code his schedules, or even the occasional sticky notes reserved for more pressing concerns.
It's as if he'd never written anything in the first place.
Doyoung sweeps a hand over the page, disbelieving, but the tactile confirmation of the utter nothingness gracing the pages is enough to convince him to give up.
Doyoung sighs as he places the planner on his desk and flops on his bed. If it was only a dream there's not much to be gained from obsessing over it, and he decides that sleep may reset his muddled mind.
At some point between nestling himself in the blankets and wriggling around to get comfortable, his eyes slip closed, and by the time they slide open again his alarm clock helpfully informs him that it's an hour until noon: prime waking time on a usual off day.
His waking time is common knowledge to more than just himself, however, as evidenced by the bright rapping knock on his door not a minute later, and the appearance of Jaehyun's sunny smile after Doyoung mumbles his permission to come in.
Doyoung likes to think of himself as a composed person, but the morning's turmoil combined with his aversion to wakefulness in general takes a visible toll on him. When Jaehyun steps into his room he's certain he looks more like a creature belonging to blankets than he does an idol.
Disheveled, and only slightly self-conscious, Doyoung sits up and begins to rake his fingers through his bedhead, ignoring the way Jaehyun's lips twitch in amusement.
He sighs. "Did you need something, Jaehyun?"
The younger inclines his head contemplatively as he shifts from one foot to another. "Not really, hyung. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out today."
Ah.
Doyoung's mental clock rewinds to roughly twenty four hours the previous day, and it neatly generates a similar image - Jaehyun's imploring gaze, the slight lean against the doorframe, the way his bottom lip catches against his teeth - and he realizes that this happened in the dream as well.
He had declined due to the need for practice, of course, but it had been hard to keep his mind off of the drooping slope of the younger's shoulders as he'd bid a polite retreat.
(Jaehyun had still smiled at him as he'd excused himself, of course. He fancies himself a master at hiding the most obvious things, but what's even more astonishing is that everyone else seems to fall for it.)
He realizes Jaehyun is still waiting on whether or not he wants to hang out when the latter's browline begins to furrow worryingly, full lips already forming around a placating remark when Doyoung hurriedly cuts him off.
"I'd love to."
Jaehyun's expression melts into surprise. "You're sure?"
Perhaps he'd said blurted that out a bit too strongly. "Yeah, of course. Sorry about zoning out, I just woke up feeling a little off today," Doyoung backpedals.
Jaehyun accepts the explanation easily, warm brown eyes shining sympathetically as he nods gravely. "It's because you've been working yourself harder than usual," he says around a rueful smile.
Not giving Doyoung any time to dispute that painfully true claim, Jaehyun continues on. "Then, I'll wait in the common room until you're ready. It's a date." He grins cheekily, laughing at Doyoung's baffled expression as he turns on his heel to see himself out.
As Doyoung surrenders his sweatpants for jeans and slides into a striped sweater, jacket, and scarf, excitement thrums in his veins in spite of everything. The residual guilt from the dream may have been one of the reasons he accepted, but he has always, inexplicably, had a hard time saying no to Jaehyun.
---
It's a clear December evening, and the chill clings to his clothes even as they duck into the warmth of a cozy Itaewon cafe.
Jaehyun’s porcelain cheeks are flushed, and he visibly shudders once they escape the frigid outside air. As soon as they cross the threshold he pulls his beanie off his head, causing the strands of freed hair to wisp around his head before he smooths them into place.
Doyoung would be tempted to coo at the display if he wasn't equally relieved to be indoors, so instead he ushers Jaehyun towards a booth and stands in line to order their usual.
Fifteen minutes later Jaehyun is gazing concernedly at him over the strawberry he’s twirling on his fork.
“Hyung, are you alright? You’ve been out of it all day.” Jaehyun’s kind eyes turn downward at the corners, and suddenly the chatter in the cafe seems to dim as he leans forward, attention rapt. “You can tell me if there’s something bothering you.”
Doyoung gulps. He hadn’t meant to have his mind wander elsewhere, but it had been all too easy to succumb to the comfortable pattern of just watching Jaehyun munch as his own thoughts skipped around. He blames this morning.
“Sorry, I was just… distracted. It’s really nothing.”
Jaehyun’s frown deepens and his lips threaten a pout, but his eye contact is unwavering even as his tone shifts to appropriately downcast. “Is it the Limitless promotion?” he asks tentatively. “Are you nervous about it?”
“No! I’m actually really excited to promote with everyone. With - with you.”
Doyoung curses the stumble, but his words manage to coax an almost-smile from Jaehyun, a crease barely visible in one of his cheeks as he presses, “Really?”
“Really really. I’m just tired, Jaehyunnie, don’t worry about it.”
The pet name has the intended effect and Jaehyun allows himself a full smile, expression soft. “If you say so, hyung. Then let’s finish up quickly so you have time to nap, ok?” The suggestion is void of sarcasm, and Doyoung is reminded again of Jaehyun's benign heart.
Jaehyun uses his fork to push the half eaten dessert waffle to Doyoung’s side of the plate. There's some difficulty as the waffle drags through the chocolate syrup, blueberries and kiwis wobbling precariously atop the puffs of whipped cream. “Eat,” Jaehyun insists. “You’ve been losing too much weight lately; I don’t want you to run out of energy during practice.”
Doyoung raises a brow at Jaehyun's apparent attempt at mothering but he declines to comment, instead choosing to sip out of his watered-down, woefully neglected caramel milk tea.
Even as he chews dutifully Doyoung is hyperaware of the fond gaze Jaehyun levels at him, the deep chime of his laughter, the impossible shine of his dark hair beneath the golden glow of the lighting. The contrast from the blustering tundra outside is too strong, and if someone told Doyoung that Jaehyun had bottled up everything good and radiant and hogged it for himself, right in this cafe, he might have believed them. In other words, he really does need to sleep. Immediately.
He resists the urge to massage his temples with his fingers: it wouldn't do much to untangle his mind anyway.
---
On the walk back to the dorms Jaehyun slips something into Doyoung's jacket pocket.
Doyoung doesn’t bother asking what is it, instead settling for an inquisitive tilt of the head.
“Instant herbal tea,” the younger offers by way of explanation, though his words are muffled behind the wooly scarf positioned in front of his mouth. “I suspected you might have a headache, but if you don’t, then at least it’ll help you sleep better," he explains, shrugging.
So he hadn't been very subtle after all.
“Thanks, Jaehyun,” Doyoung breathes, feeling lighter. The idol life is notorious for its mental and physical toll, but it helps to have someone who can read him as well as Jaehyun does, who is thoughtful enough to provide comfort in the ways he can. “You always know.”
“Shouldn’t I?” the younger quips, walking faster so he can look back at Doyoung. It’s part of his agenda, Doyoung knows, the attentiveness and the teasing. Jaehyun's comfort comes in the forms of pushing and prodding the right buttons during the rare times Doyoung spins himself into a distraught mood, with remarkable effectiveness. For all the pride Jaehyun takes in calling himself his best friend, Doyoung would be hard pressed to say he hasn't earned it.
Feeling reassured, Doyoung sidles closer to Jaehyun to playfully bump his shoulder, and Jaehyun's resulting beam is almost enough to make him forget about the cold.
---
When the morning strikes again Doyoung is still, remarkably, in a pleasant mood.
The drink Jaehyun gave him had actually been effective, with sharp notes of ginger and chamomile singing on his tongue, and he'd drifted to dreams with the cup sitting empty on his bedside table.
For want of cleanliness, however, he doesn't dare to leave the cup there for any longer than a single night, but it's when he gets up to put it away that he realizes: it's gone.
The cup is gone from his nightstand, the empty tea packet is gone from his trash can, and a quick check of his phone informs him that it's ten degrees Celsius on the clear morning of Sunday, December 18th.
Doyoung is baffled. One repeating day could be written off as a dream, but two? It could be nothing less than… a quantum mistake, or a coma, in which case he had more pressing concerns to worry about.
He's tempted to panic. But, he knows there's no way he'll overcome this if he doesn't keep a level head, and he will overcome this.
---
Jaehyun shows up to his room at eleven like clockwork, and Doyoung reasons he might as well indulge him, so they sit in an empty practice room while Jaehyun drums out a Schubert composition and Doyoung lounges on the couch.
He's in the ideal position to watch Jaehyun, whose proficiency on the piano has never failed to enrapture him. Jaehyun's fingers fall upon the keys like stars, and his wrists move so fluidly across the length of the instrument that it'd be difficult to believe that his practice time is sparing and sporadic.
Jaehyun's casual expression betrays the elegant quality of music he draws out. Bright, transcendent sounds spill into the air for minutes at a time, in between the allotted breaks he allows himself to chat with Doyoung.
The current topic of discussion is a documentary Jaehyun had watched the other day, about some ancient civilization or the other, and the curiosity that highlights his expression is nothing short of endearing.
(Doyoung already knows Jaehyun wants to learn everything, to try anything at least once, to better himself every day. It's no secret this voracious tendency is what makes him so skilled but sometimes Doyoung wonders where he finds the motivation to do, well, everything. His inquisitive mind could've trekked down any path of life but Doyoung thinks it's here, surrounded by music, that frames his sweet smile the best.)
Jaehyun seems to realize that Doyoung stopped listening to his explanation of agricultural techniques at least five minutes ago, because he retreats from the piano completely as he turns his body towards him.
"Hyung. Are you okay?" It's matter-of-fact but not uncaring.
"Mm? Of course." Doyoung stifles a yawn as he stretches out over the couch. "Keep talking about the… chinampas."
"I already did, a couple of minutes ago," Jaehyun laughs.
Fortunately, Doyoung is too caught up in the other's amusement for the mortification to really sink in.
"It's alright, hyung, you seem kind of tired anyway. Is everything okay?" Jaehyun's concern is expressed with his whole body, eyes carefully scrutinizing Doyoung as if he might diagnose the cause of his passivity through outward appearance alone.
"Everything's okay," Doyoung says, parsing his brain as he chooses his words carefully. "It's just… I'm trying to figure out a problem but I don't know where to start."
"A problem?"
"Mm hmm." Doyoung knows he should remain tight-lipped on this one - at best, Jaehyun will think he's weird and laugh it off, and at worst, unnatural things might start happening to him too.
Jaehyun seems to sense that he doesn't want to disclose any further, understanding written in his expression, and he doesn't push it. Instead, he offers advice.
"You know, hyung," he starts, leaning towards Doyoung conspiratorially. "I read a book not too long ago: The Courage to be Disliked. It said all problems are interpersonal relationship problems." His eyes are sparkling, somewhat playful, and definitely teasing, and Doyoung recognizes it for the feint it is but decides to play along anyway.
"That's impossible," he scoffs. "That sounds like the words of someone who is either a hopeless romantic or who reads too many self-help books. In other words: you."
"Not true," Jaehyun protests, but there's no bite in it, none at all, and a smile flirts across his lovely face. "You don't know. Maybe unconsciously, you're harboring feelings about society or other people that make you feel insecure. That's all it means."
"I doubt it," Doyoung says idly, because playing the skeptic is worth the exasperated little noise that escapes Jaehyun.
"Now you're just trying to make me frustrated."
"Yeah," Doyoung says, smirking. "It's an interpersonal relationship problem. Go fix it, like your book told you to."
The look Jaehyun gives him is a strange one, and he bites his lip thoughtfully, mind seeming to wander somewhere distant. "Maybe I will," he mutters, but it doesn't match the tone of the conversation prior, and a palpable silence follows.
Doyoung starts, about to open his mouth to say something, but Jaehyun transitions to another topic before he can. "Anyways. It's been awhile since you've complained to me about your dramas. Care to?"
Doyoung doesn't appreciate the word choice, but it'd be ridiculous to let an opportunity to rant pass him by, so he takes the bait.
The afternoon drips by not by linear measures of time, but by stories swapped, secrets shared, the tilt of Jaehyun's head when he asks a question and the flutter of his eyelashes when he laughs.
Doyoung is reasonably sure they're hogging this practice room. He is definitely sure he doesn't care.
When they inevitably get hungry they wander to the kitchen for the housekeeper's latest dish and set their bounty upon the side table in Jaehyun's room. Jaehyun pulls up something to watch on his laptop as Doyoung throws a blanket over their legs, and for a few hours they coexist in perfect synchrony; only the sounds of cutlery and conversation disrupt the droning voice from the video they're watching.
In the end Doyoung succumbs to the cozy intimacy of it all, and falls asleep atop the soft give of Jaehyun's bed. When he feels the gentle pressure of the covers being tucked around him and inhales the reassuring sandalwood scent on Jaehyun's pillows, he only has one thought: home.
---
He's getting kind of tired of this, he thinks, as six AM greets him relentlessly the next day.
He's tempted to just lay in his bed and feign a sick day, but he can guess with reasonable certainty what will happen if he does: Jaehyun, as he is wont to do, will tiptoe into his room bearing homemade soup and cold packs, and then read a book from the safe distance of the other bed as he monitors Doyoung's condition. And because Doyoung is not eager to bear either the guilt of lying or the terrible boredom associated with that plan, he gets up, drinks coffee, and surfs his phone.
He spends the morning scrubbing the internet for "time loop solutions" and keywords of similar merit, but the search engine fetches results that are as ridiculous as expected. Doyoung knew he wouldn't find his answer there anyway.
He can't explain it, but there's something about the heaviness in his bones, the way the sunlight strikes a little lower than usual, and the silent, muted quality of everything: there's a certain sense of finality to this day, and Doyoung intends to exploit it.
"Jaehyun," he says immediately when the expected guest appears at his door, "let's take a walk."
---
He's thought a lot about this: the purpose of the universe forcing him into this time loop, of spending the day with Jaehyun over and over again. And if it's not an issue with himself, then there must be an issue with Jaehyun.
He sweeps a critical eye over to where the latter is crunching over the sidewalk. The sun had been striking lower as a prelude to snow, and icy precipitation dots the ground and clings to Jaehyun's lashes even as they trod across the wintry path.
There's no wind, only the dawdle of snowflakes whirling through the air, and a sense of calm pervades everything. Jaehyun hasn't spoken much; Doyoung thinks he can sense it too.
"It's rare that you're the one to drag me to exercise," Jaehyun finally cracks, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I thought you hated being out when it's this cold."
"I do," Doyoung hums. He pauses to lean his forearms against the railing of the bridge they're crossing, gloved fingers clasped together as he overlooks the Han River, and Jaehyun follows suit.
He keeps thinking about Jaehyun's slip up the other day, and the resulting, stilted awkwardness that hung over the tiny practice room. Behind the sunshine and poise of Jaehyun's disposition, there's the lingerings of something unresolved, and if Doyoung is trapped in this loop then he intends to at least figure it out.
Doyoung trails his eyes over the briny fog veiling the water and the repetitive sloshing of his depths when he finally asks, "Jaehyun. You've been acting a little differently lately. Is there anything wrong?"
That clearly wasn't the question he expected, because Jaehyun pauses, gaze critical as it dips downward, and he manages an easy, "Not at all."
It's almost imperceptible. The barest twitch downwards of the corner of his lips, the slight stutter in his breathing - he wouldn't have noticed any of it if he hadn't been hanging around Jaehyun for over three years, but he has been, and he does.
He’s lying.
"Jaehyun." Doyoung turns so he can look Jaehyun straight in the eyes, and his expression is so vulnerable, the hesitance at this conversation reflecting in his candid eyes. "You can tell me," Doyoung coaxes, softly, resting a reassuring hand on the other's shoulder. "I won't judge you, I promise."
Jaehyun's lips part, uncertain, and for a moment they're as frozen as their surroundings, eternity hinging on Jaehyun's soundless sigh as he visibly weighs his options.
"Can we at least sit down, first?" Jaehyun requests abruptly, gesturing to a wooden bench nearby. Doyoung dusts off the thin layer of snow on the seat before he sits down and subconsciously scoots closer to Jaehyun to preserve warmth. When he focuses his attention on the other his expression is searching.
It's not the easiest conversation to start, but bless his heart, Jaehyun tries. "So."
"So," Doyoung echoes.
Jaehyun puffs out an exasperated breath. It crystallizes in the air as he turns his head away to seemingly stare at the ground. "It's not really a 'me' problem," he admits quietly. "More like an 'us' problem, or, well, you in relation to me. Ugh, I've spent so long thinking about this and it still isn't coming out right."
He's worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, noticeably frustrated, and Doyoung’s impatience is overridden by the instinct to comfort.
"Jaehyun," Doyoung soothes, "It's okay. Take your time."
Jaehyun swallows and looks him in the eye for the first time since they sat down. His gaze is urgent, hope and trepidation melting together unadulterated in the expressive hazel of his eyes.
"Doyoung," he breathes out, and it sounds like a plea. "I'm in love with you."
Doyoung is not subtle, and never will be. The petrified look on his face and the way the gasp rushes into his lungs is poorly masked, and Jaehyun barrels forward in his panic.
"I still remember the day you joined the company; you smiled and it was hard to think about anything else. I worked harder in vocal lessons so I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of you," he admits shyly. "Your wit, your humor, I fell for everything about you, and I've been trying hard to mature into someone worthy of you. And…" he starts, biting his lip, "I know I'm not quite there yet, but you moving into the 127 dorm made me so glad I could barely contain myself, and I wanted to tell you this soon."
When Jaehyun turns to him, the crimson has crept up to his ears, but his eyes are so wide, so full of hope.
Doyoung is struck silent, for once.
Unbidden, suspect memories start to knot together in his head in a cohesive pattern. There's the little things, like letting Doyoung into the car first and opening his water bottles, and the bigger things, like learning his favorite recipes and choosing to hang out with him on the weekends despite a mountain of homework. Jaehyun's feelings had been obvious the whole time, but he was just too dense to make anything of it.
"Jaehyun," he tries tentatively, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, and the younger is so receptive, a flower to the sun, hanging on to Doyoung's every word. "Jaehyun, you're in love with me?"
Jaehyun smiles at that, dimples carving into his face endearingly. "Always have been."
"Oh," Doyoung exhales, shakily. "I guess… I never realized that."
Jaehyun's expression flickers with unease at the silence that follows, furrows marring his perfect brow, and he shifts nervously. "I… kind of thought you might feel the same. Or… maybe I read into everything wrong," he admits quietly, peering at Doyoung. He's leaning in so close, yearning for a response, and Doyoung knows neither of them will escape this unscathed.
He swallows. "Jaehyun," he starts, and there's already a sinking feeling in his gut, "I care about you a lot. You're my best friend, and you're my favorite. But… I'm sorry. I've never thought about you in that way."
That is, evidently, the wrong thing to say.
Doyoung can pinpoint the exact moment Jaehyun realizes the magnitude of his words, as his face crumbles and the devastation sinks in. But Jaehyun, strong Jaehyun, only needs a few seconds to school his expression into neutrality as he pushes past his obvious heartbreak. "That's ok," he laughs weakly, but it sounds pained. "I should have expected that."
Before Doyoung can say anything else Jaehyun makes to get off the bench as his comfort translates directly into kinetic energy. Doyoung follows, and as Jaehyun leads them further he realizes they're making their way back to the dorm. Guilt weighs down his heart, but he chooses not to protest. If Jaehyun sacrificed his dignity, then at the very least he deserves to end this outing on his own terms.
The snow has picked up but Jaehyun seems unbothered, maintaining a calm pace as they weave through pedestrians and cross the various streets. It's well into the holiday season at this point, and the couples and families milling around are bubbling with a vivacity that matches the vibrant storefront decorations. Their liveliness makes Doyoung feel even frigid in comparison.
Suddenly Jaehyun speaks, and it's so soft that if Doyoung had been in any deeper in wallowing in his misery he wouldn't have caught it. "Nothing between us has to change, hyung," he says, pushing the traffic signal as his gaze is trained carefully ahead. His words melt into the chatter of the crowd around him, but they're no less personal for it. "Let's just continue the way we were. I'm sorry for burdening you with this."
Doyoung makes to argue, but the aborted sound sticks somewhere in his throat. What could he even say to that, anyway?
Jaehyun notices his discomfort and meets his eyes, dropping the facade to grace him with a single, regretful smile. "Don't worry about it, hyung. It's not your fault."
It's the fact that Jaehyun is still concerned about his feelings after all of this coupled with the candidly wounded look in his eyes that solidify Doyoung's belief he's done something terrible.
The rest of the wall back to the dorm is silent. When Jaehyun pauses at Doyoung's door to bid him bye, the muted, melancholy quality of his farewell makes Doyoung want to shake him - to explain how he's just confused and overwhelmed, but never meant to hurt his heart.
But that's a lot to say in the space of a few seconds, and Jaehyun's gaze is glassy and averted from him, so Doyoung lets him go.
When he collapses into bed and lets out a shuddering exhale, he thinks that for once, he's glad for second chances and repeating days.
---
The next day is not a repeat.
It's only when Doyoung stumbles into the practice room at seven and sees the redness rimming Jaehyun's eyes that he realizes the magnitude of this fact.
The latter glances at him for only a few seconds but it's still enough for Doyoung to feel like the breath has been knocked out of his lungs.
Once practice actually starts he isn't much better. Doyoung is awkward in a way he usually wouldn't be; he's hyper aware of the position of his limbs and he keeps making almost-mistakes, moving into his spot a millisecond away from what could be considered perfection.
After the third instance of this Taeyong gives him a quizzical look, head tilted almost comically, and Doyoung internally sighs. Separation of work and feelings, he reminds himself. He doesn't mess up again, even if he's torn between staring at Jaehyun, avoiding Jaehyun's eyes, or maybe digging a hole for himself to disappear in for the next few days. He's leaning towards the last option.
Four hours later, when both the floor and scent of the practice room are mired in sweat, and everyone is gasping a little pitifully, they're let free. Doyoung has little motivation to unpeel himself from his comfortable position on the floor, but he does anyway, and by the time he's standing up he realizes there's only one other person still in the practice room.
Doyoung swallows. The squeak of his shoes is too loud when he shifts, stepping closer to Jaehyun as he tries to command his vocal cords to say something. It's a valiant effort but proximity is no substitute for his inability to think of anything to say.
Jaehyun holds his gaze for a long moment to give him the opportunity to articulate himself, before stepping away with a sigh when he realizes the space between them will remain silent.
It's almost unprecedented for Doyoung's chatterbox self to be struck mute two days in a row, but the hard truth is that he doesn't know what to think; he has yet to pin down the amalgamation of feelings that bubble precariously inside him as he watches Jaehyun's dignified retreat.
The barest slump of Jaehyun's back, the resigned heaviness of his gait, the click of the lock as it resounds through the empty practice room: these are the images that linger as Doyoung tosses in bed that night and thinks of what he would've said if Jaehyun had given him more time. He finds he doesn't have an answer, for that.
---
He's not ready to talk about it, but Jaehyun is, so after their last Friday schedule the latter quietly pulls him aside and asks if they can talk.
The panic must be plain on Doyoung's face, because Jaehyun instantly works to calm him. "Hyung," he says softly. "Hyung, don't worry, I'm not going to say anything that stresses you out even more."
Jaehyun carefully averts his eyes after the statement, long lashes fluttering in a blink, and oh, had he ever looked this way before? Resolute gaze, downturned mouth, pensive expression? His charming Jaehyun had been carrying the aura for a few days now, magnetic but cold, and Doyoung recognizes it as armor to protect himself from further hurt. Guilt flares in his chest.
"Hyung," Jaehyun says softly, and Doyoung's heart aches, "I know I've made you uncomfortable recently. Sorry about that. I said it before, but I'd like if we could at least try to be friends. I miss you," he admits, and for a second the familiar Jaehyun peeks through, his shyness tinted with resignation. "But I'll wait however long you need to feel comfortable enough to be close again. Is that okay?"
It's a perfectly reasonable request, and the cerebral side of Doyoung registers it at such. But his emotions, the pesky, winged things, clamor at the vulnerability of the whole situation, and they scatter his composure and loosen his tongue.
"I can't accept this," he says flatly, and for a moment Jaehyun looks wounded. Doyoung doesn't give him time to interject as he shakes his head firmly, because too much has happened recently and he is tired of feeling tangled in his own thoughts.
"I refuse to believe the universe made me go through a time loop and relive the same day four times just for us to be put in this awkward situation, it makes no sense and it needlessly complicated everything -"
He's ranting, and it feels so cathartic to finally let out his feelings, to sound them against the stunned wall that is Jaehyun and hope they knit together in a way that makes sense. It's when he huffs in an annoyed breath that he finally focuses on Jaehyun, who had been watching his outburst with a critical eye, and who probably thinks he's lost it.
"So it was the same for you, too," Jaehyun says thoughtfully.
"...What?"
"The time loop," Jaehyun affirms, tranquil despite everything. "I thought it was just me experiencing it, but I guess you did too, hyung."
"You mean to say," Doyoung pauses, thoughts rushing by almost too fast to catch, "you remember each of the days?"
"Sunday the 18th," Jaehyun replies coolly, and that's enough.
Doyoung stares at him, incredulous, before burying his face in his hands. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me," he hisses. "I thought I was going crazy!"
He hears a soft sound above him, something like a breathy chuckle, and he looks up from his hands to see Jaehyun and his ill-concealed smile.
God, he had missed that smile.
"Don't you dare laugh at me, Jaehyun," he tries, but it's weak, and also too late; he can feel his defenses crumbling when his lips inexplicably curve upward and he sighs.
He'd been on edge for days over this. But it's just Jaehyun: the one who understands him the most, and cherishes him the most, and who'll never let him forget it. Has there ever been a time he hasn't been able to work something out with him? There wasn’t any need to worry so much in the first place.
Jaehyun’s eyes are soft when they meet his, sunlight after rain.
“I bet you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you,” Jaehyun muses, voice low. “But the truth is that I was confused by it too at first. On the day I finally decided I would confess my feelings for you, I asked you to go out, but you were busy, and that was fine.” Jaehyun pauses, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Imagine my surprise when the next day, I was given another chance. And another. I kept asking you to hang out each day with the intention of telling you, but by the end of our hangouts I always decided against it. Because you were tired, or even asleep, or maybe I was trying to excuse my own lack of courage.”
Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair, pensive, and exhales a quiet sigh. “I knew the days would stop repeating once I worked up the courage to tell you my heart. Can you blame me for stalling?”
Doyoung can’t. Not with the energy that hung between them for those days, the tension palpable and thick, with neither of them sure the direction their friendship would take.
Guilt coils thick in his throat, and Jaehyun’s smile is forlorn. “It’s okay,” Jaehyun says, firmly. “I always knew it could turn out this way. But I’ll give you whatever distance you need until you’re ready to be friends again. I at least want that,” he adds, almost as an afterthought, insecurity bleeding through in the timbre of his voice.
“Jaehyun, listen,” he tries. Those beautiful eyes turn on him attentively and suddenly he feels overwhelmingly exposed.
“Jaehyun, I didn’t think I felt that way about you. But something out there thought it was important for me to know your feelings, and I haven’t even processed my own feelings, and I’m just not sure. And… you deserve someone who is sure. I’m not making any promises, but… could you just give me some time?”
He sounds stilted and awkward to his own ears, but to his immense relief Jaehyun just nods at him sagely, a warmth flooding back into his expression that had been criminally lacking recently.
“I thought you might’ve hated me,” Jaehyun admits, shoulders sagging as the tension drains out of them, and a wetness in his tone as he stares resolutely at the floor. “And that’s why you were avoiding me.”
“Jaehyun, I would never,” Doyoung admonishes gently, and before he realizes it he’s pulling Jaehyun into his arms, pressing comforting palms on Jaehyun’s back. When they're like this he wants to protect Jaehyun from every malignant thing in the world, including and especially the things he himself has done. “It’s because I care about you that I want to answer you properly. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jaehyun murmurs, and when he draws back Jaehyun’s eyelashes are damp but he looks more radiant than he’s been in days.
---
It's a few weeks later when Doyoung finally finds the courage to pull himself into Jaehyun's lap as they lounge on the couch.
Adoration and disbelief and are you sure shines in Jaehyun's eyes as he looks up at him, but Doyoung shushes him with a press of his mouth to Jaehyun's petal soft lips.
When he takes Jaehyun's hand in both of his and holds it close to his heart, it feels like a beginning.