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Wooseok was wound so tight Seungyoun felt he was about to snap. It’s not that he didn’t get it. He did. More than perhaps anyone except Jinhyuk, Seungyoun got it. The pressure of being already debuted, the pressure of being twenty-something in a room full of teens so brimming with hope and optimism. He got that desperation, that drive for perfection. One single mistake could mean the end of them and their career.
But Seungyoun was worried he was working himself too hard. It was after hours, and most of the rest of the Love Shot team has called it quits and made their way back to the dorm.
Even as Seungyoun took a water break, a ten minute breather, Hangyul started up on his cooldown. Seungyoun gave him a fist pump and a shouted encouragement but, as Hangyul left, his eyes fell inevitably back to Wooseok. Stony faced, still going through the choreo even though he had every minute detail down already.
His eyes flitted up to the practice room windows, high and thin, a strip of indigo night sky dotted with a few stars. He glanced back down.
“Wooseok…” Seungyoun started, though he was unsure where it would end up.
Wooseok’s movements paused. He shot Seungyoun a look in the mirror, bothered, his brows pulled low, then resumed.
Seungyoun knew he was being told without words to leave it, to leave Wooseok. But the thought that he is so close to snapping urged him to stay. After a split second decision, Seungyoun crossed the room in a couple of strides.
He planted himself in between Wooseok and the mirror so he couldn’t be ignored so easily.
“Wooseok,” he began again, a winning smile pasted on his face, “Passing out on stage is one way to stand out, but there are easier, safer ways to go about getting the national producers’ attention.”
He caught Wooseok’s eyes go high, to the cameras above their heads that wouldn’t turn off until after they’d left the room. Their red recording lights were blinking at them, like a warning. Wooseok shifted, pulling a step closer.
“I’m just getting a few things nailed down,” he spoke in a low voice, perhaps low enough that the cameras’ mics might not pick it up, “Go on. I’ll only be a few more minutes.”
Wooseok might have been shorter than him, but Seungyoun felt stared down as Wooseok kept him pinned with his gaze. There was a moment like crackling that passed between them, and Seungyoun drew in a sharp breath. He’d forgotten to breathe. He was reminded of his worry though, of Wooseok coiling tighter still, until he just… snapped.
Seungyoun broke eye contact to glance back up at the camera, its lens black and bulbous like some unblinking eye. He drew closer still to Wooseok, closing the space between them. He couldn’t catch his arm like he wanted to and physically haul him from the room, not without the cameras catching the moment and the editors twisting it into some fight between them.
Seungyoun took advantage of all his height on Wooseok to stare down at him.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else? Please?”
Wooseok’s eyes flashed hard. While he’d seemed to freeze the moment Seungyoun had drawn close, Seungyoun’s words ignited something in him.
“Talk about what?,” he returned.
Seungyoun gestured, his frustration getting the better of him.
“Your whole – “ he realized how loud he’d spoken, and quickly lowered his voice to a hiss, “your whole self sacrificial thing you’ve got going on here. We’re all working towards the same thing. We all want it. We’re not all pushing ourselves too far, though.”
“There’s probably a dozen other guys out there right now, practicing,” Wooseok protested, his voice a fierce whisper.
His tenacity was admirable, Seungyoun thought. Or it would be, in any other circumstance.
“They’re not you, though,” he said, without thinking. He wondered how he could make that seem more of a normal answer… he wondered if he ought to play it off as concern for the team’s performance. Wooseok is special because he’s on Seungyoun’s team, he could point out. His performance will affect Seungyoun’s score too.
But then Wooseok’s expression altered, his brows drawing together. His lips relaxed from a frown to – something, parting, before closing again. He looked vulnerable for a moment, at last.
“Just – come on,” Seungyoun tried once more.
Wooseok sucked his lower lip in between his teeth, and Seungyoun forced his eyes not to track the movement. Normal, he thought forcibly at himself. Be normal. He was debating his decision to get quite so close to Wooseok.
“Fine,” Wooseok said, shortly, and Seungyoun couldn’t withhold the sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he’d said to finally get to Wooseok, but he wouldn’t question his luck.
The only place without any cameras, ever, were the bathrooms. Sometimes the laundry rooms were safe, especially when the machines were in use, their loud thumping providing an extra layer of protection from cameramen’s prying eyes. The outside of the dorms were safe from cameras, especially in the parts where the lighting didn’t reach. But when in doubt and when in need of a secure place, the bathrooms were where the trainees always turned.
There weren’t any cameras on them where they stood, Wooseok leaning against the sink, Seungyoun standing in front of a stall. And yet, it felt more awkward than before. Tangibly so.
Seungyoun was tempted to cough to break the silence first. He waited, though it was only moments before he started to fidget. He couldn’t stay still, never could. Wooseok’s brow rose, as his eyes flicked down to Seungyoun’s fingers tapping a rhythm on his thigh, then back up.
He seemed to take pity on him.
“I’ve never seen you be serious like that,” he said, his voice low, his syllables crisp and deliberate.
“I can be serious,” Seungyoun protested, raising his hand, gesturing vaguely, “When it’s, you know, about things that matter.”
“Things that m– “ Wooseok cut himself off. He crossed his arms over his chest, and hunched in on himself. He looked even smaller than usual, his shoulders thin, curled in.
“So that wasn’t just some ploy to seem like you cared?”
Seungyoun blinked. He wasn’t quite following.
“Huh?”
“For the show. You weren’t just faking it to look good for the show? You actually…” Wooseok trailed off.
Seungyoun started to cotton on. He bristled a little, at the insinuation that he was playing up concern just to show off an image. He didn’t know how to say it, to get the words out that he just wanted Wooseok to care for himself, because he was… important, not without it coming out strange.
“Yes, I actually want you to rest,” Seungyoun was settling in, his annoyance crowding out the awkwardness from earlier. He listed back against the stall behind him, raising his hand and hooking his thumb in the waistband of his practice pants.
“You look like you were a few steps away from cracking out there, man.”
“I’m fine, but thank you for your concern,” Wooseok’s words should have been biting, but they’d softened, and his features with them. A hint of a smile was even playing across his lips. He looked – inviting, was the word Seungyoun’s mind supplied. He pushed that away. He looked better. Amenable to sense.
“C’mon. Let’s go back to the dorms,” he said, letting his own smile spread wider.
Wooseok was relaxing too, his shoulders falling from where they’d hunched up.
“Yeah? You can’t just order me around, you know. Give me one good reason why I should.”
He was even playing with Seungyoun. It was the thrill of that which compelled Seungyoun to say:
“Me.”
Wooseok’s reaction was worth it. His smile stopped dead in crawling across his face, his lips parting, falling. His eyes widened a small amount, only as much as you’d notice if you were paying attention.
“You?”
Seungyoun relented, as much as he wanted to continue just so he might see how wide he could make Wooseok’s lips fall open. He really had to be tired, Seungyoun thought, concern flooding back in, if he was this easy to fluster.
“Yeah, I’ll walk you back. It’ll be fun. I’ll sing you a song, maybe even throw in a nice bedtime story….”
Wooseok’s features shifted. It took a moment, but the shock was replaced by a sharper, brighter look. He actually snorted, his hands falling from across his chest.
“If you promise to spare me that, fine. You can walk me to the dorms.”
As they walked out from the bathroom, Seungyoun’s shoulder knocking his, Wooseok shot a: “You’re acting like my manager, by the way. I thought I’d get away from his mothering at least in coming here but, no, apparently I found a new nuisance in you.”
Seungyoun laughed a full on, shoulder shaking laugh at that. He finally quieted down as they walked through the barren halls of the practice facility, turning to look Wooseok’s way, grateful for the new sides of him that he was starting to learn. He saw a glint in his eye, and a smile on his lips. As he was looking, Wooseok glanced towards him as well. Locking eyes with him set Seungyoun off on another bout of laughter, his laugh carrying through the halls and outside, as they left the facility.
As they walked the well tred pathway that led back to the dorms, Seungyoun stole glances at Wooseok. They walked in silence, after all, it wasn’t like he had much better to do. The moonlight was flattering in his features, the planes of his face sharpened, all lit in blue, while the crests of his cheeks and the farthest tips of his lashes were the warm orange of the artificial lighting from the complex.
Wooseok, Seungyoun thought, had his pick for the season’s top visual. He was attractive in a way that made Seungyoun want to steal glances all the time, during practice, during meals, even during times like these.
“You’re staring.”
Seungyoun paused in his steps, blinking, surfacing. He’d spaced out, just staring at Wooseok, he realized.
“I, uh – “ he started, only to see that Wooseok didn’t look bothered. Despite what he’d said, he was smiling, small and secretive. He slowed too, a step and a half in front of Seungyoun. He’d turned back.
“I should’ve known. You dragged me from practice just to leer at me, right?”
Seungyoun stared at Wooseok, trying to fathom him out.
“No,” he started, eventually, “I just…I was worried.”
But, even though he’d said as much before, Seungyoun regretted it. It felt too raw. He saw Wooseok’s smug smile falter and wished he had just played along with him.
The pathway was too well lit. Seungyoun could see color rising to Wooseok’s cheeks, a rose tinged flush that showed up undeniable in the moonlight.
“I think I liked you better when you were joking around,” Wooseok said, at last.
His voice was even, but only just. He sounded affected, almost imperceptibly different. His words landed on Seungyoun’s ears with a sort of weight. He didn’t know what they meant, but he knew that before he’d decided to be honest and ruin the mood, Wooseok’s tone had bordered on flirty. They were playful, at the very least.
As soon as the thought occurred to Seungyoun, his breath hitched. If there was a chance he was reading the moment correctly, he wanted to seize upon it. Seungyoun stepped closer to Wooseok, and Wooseok stayed still. He saw his eyes widen.
“I can stop being serious, if you’d like,” Seungyoun felt bold, and took another step forward, closing the gap between them.
His heart thudded in his chest, his blood rushing in his ears. Wooseok’s eyes were wide as saucers, flooded with blue moonlight.
His tongue darted out to wet his lip, a flash of pink, leaving a spot of shine behind on his lower lip. Seungyoun let himself look, for once, then flicked his gaze back up.
“You’re – you’re not being serious, right?” Wooseok’s voice was shakier, “We can’t – .”
Seungyoun exhaled, doubt flooding in to fill the space the air vacated.
“Okay. Then we can keep on walking and pretend this was all a joke.”
A soft sound escaped Wooseok’s lips, an exhalation, as his face twisted into frustration.
“Just – “ he began, and before Seungyoun knew it, Wooseok’s face was nearing his.
Wooseok rose up onto the tips of his toes – he must have, and that thought was running through Seungyoun’s head and little else, as he felt the light brush of Wooseok’s lips against the corner of his own.
That was all, and then Wooseok pulled back. Seungyoun was frozen, paralyzed, as Wooseok looked away from him. His cheeks were a blazing, furious crimson. Seungyoun’s face felt heated too.
Wooseok had just kissed him, right? He hadn’t imagined that, had he?
“Uh,” Seungyoun started, trying to summon up any words he could. ‘What was that?’ maybe, or ‘can we do that again?’.
“Let’s go then. Hurry up,” Wooseok spun on his heel, already starting to walk away.
“Wait,” Seungyoun tried, and failed. He started after Wooseok, catching his breath as something soft and light and bright bloomed alongside the perpetual anxiety of competition that was present in his chest.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, as he kept pace with Wooseok. If Wooseok was trying to escape consequence for – just doing something like that to Seungyoun out of nowhere, he’d have to try harder, Seungyoun thought.
“What?” Wooseok gritted out. His gaze dodged Seungyoun’s own. Soon they would be at the dorms and the cameras would be pointed back on them. Wooseok would leave to go to his room, and they would never get the chance to address this again.
“Kiss me,” Seungyoun blurted out.
Wooseok’s eyes flicked to him. His pace slowed from breakneck to just quick.
“I didn’t – .”
“You did. You kissed me, Wooseok. What the hell?”
Wooseok did something odd then. He smiled, a corner of his mouth lifting, as he looked away from Seungyoun.
“That wasn’t a kiss, though, was it? Not really. I could do better than that.”
Seungyoun wasn’t prepared for that. He stumbled as he walked, gawking at Wooseok. A series of images filled his mind, unhelpfully, provoked by Wooseok’s words.
Wooseok glanced back at him, his smile spreading wider. It was then that Seungyoun realized they were already at the dorms, the steps up the stairs to the dorm inches from Wooseok’s sneakers.
“You, uh…” Seungyoun started, desperate to say something.
“Thanks for walking me back,” Wooseok said, his voice level at last. He stepped up a step, and even his eyes were level with Seungyoun’s.
“Yeah,” Seungyoun swallowed, harsh, “ ‘Course. I hope you… sleep well.”
He wanted to pull his hair. Sleep well? He’d meant to ask about the kissing thing. And the flirting thing. But, really, the kissing thing.
Wooseok cocked his head. Backlit by the warm orange lighting from the dorm, his features looked soft. He looked so inviting, Seungyoun’s mind supplied unhelpfully.
“You too, Seungyoun.”
Wooseok had already half turned, and was already beginning to walk away, when he seemed to change his mind. He looked over his shoulder at Seungyoun, still frozen where he stood at the base of the dorm steps.
“Thank you for looking out for me, Seungyoun. See you tomorrow.”
Seungyoun offered a weak laugh.
“Yeah, Wooseok. Bright and early.”
He watched the small smile reappear on Wooseok’s face as he turned, and started quickly up the steps. There was no doubt in Seungyoun’s mind that he was running. And yet – as Seungyoun started up after him, going slow, letting the space between them widen… he didn’t feel as if it was the end.
There was still that warm feeling, a bit like something blooming in his chest, lodged right in there, crowding out the fears and stresses of the show.