Work Text:
It's a Wednesday evening in Japan when Jinwoo's laptop crashes and he is forced to abandon his latest drama marathon in favour of settling down to watch pay-per-view on the widescreen TV with his roommates. Their eyes are fixed on the screen, hypnotised by the flashing images that light up the dark hotel room every few seconds.
Mino shovels popcorn into his mouth without looking at the bag in front of him and misses his mouth twice. Jinwoo watches intently and stifles a laugh so that he doesn't bring his friend out of his Hollywood induced trance.
This has become a regular scene in their room whenever they have a night off on tour: Seunghoon and Mino watching movies or playing those stupid, addictive games on their phones that Jinwoo refuses to let himself get obsessed with. Jinwoo usually has his laptop balanced on his knee and one earphone in, so that he can join in with their antics when he wants to. He is never interested in the movies they choose; big, Hollywood blockbusters have never been his thing, although he appreciates the ease and entertainment of watching one on their night off, their brains only half switched on as they let the noise and the colour wash over them in waves of special effects and violence.
(A couple of days previously Jinwoo had leant on the remote control near the end of some gangster movie, just as the villain was about to admit to where he had hidden all of that money from the police raid in '33, and they had missed the climax as static had suddenly filled the screen. Jinwoo had apologised to his roommates profusely and they had accepted his apology with a "don't worry about it hyung" and a grin, but Jinwoo was pretty sure Mino had pinched him harder than usual that night when he was snoring.)
Jinwoo realises halfway through his drama episode that he's taken hardly any of the storyline in. Distracted by the glossy, excited eyes of Song Minho and by the way he chews his bottom lip when something tense is happening onscreen; by the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs at a joke.
Of course, this means nothing.
Once the movie ends, Jinwoo takes out his earphones and puts away his laptop carefully. He smiles as his friends chatter animatedly about the ending, smiles as Mino jumps up on the bed and starts to act out a death scene. Jinwoo pulls at the legs of his sweatpants, urges the two rappers not to make so much noise because the producers are next door, and they've been working so hard, they deserve to sleep.
But Jinwoo has to admit he finds his bandmates pretty damn hilarious and within minutes he is also wiping tears from his eyes, ribs sore from laughter, sprawled out at an odd angle on the bed as it bounces beneath them, Mino rolling around dramatically and guffawing right there beside him.
The movie may change each time, but the outcome is always the same, as the three boys crawl underneath covers and wait for sleep to take them away. Seunghoon stretches out on his bed, rolling his eyes fondly at the other two who are crushed together and mumbling lies about it being uncomfortable. Jinwoo feels the gentle ocean of slumber start to roll over his body, content to take in Mino's warmth, to be breathing in the stale hotel room air together.
Silence almost takes hold of the room; is halted only by Jinwoo snoring softly into Mino's ear.
---
"Finally my own bed," Jinwoo sighs happily and throws himself on the fold-down bed set up in their next hotel room. "The record label haven't forgotten there are actually five of us after all!" He wiggles to get comfortable.
The city has changed by now, but the hotels are all starting to blend into one cream carpeted vision. That's okay, though. For, even if the scenery is on the dull side, the company isn't.
"You mean I get to sleep without someone snoring in my ear all night?" Mino grins and fist pumps the air enthusiastically.
Seunghoon laughs from across the room. "Don't speak too soon. Jinwoo is never going to stay on that thing; it's one of those hard portable beds. Hyung is like the princess in that tale, The Princess and The Pea, he'll claim he has a sore back by midnight."
Jinwoo sits up as he slips a hoodie over his head, pats the mattress around him and looks worried. "I don't want to get a sore back," he says.
A pillow is violently flung in Seunghoon's direction. "That's for putting ideas into his head," Mino hisses, although Jinwoo notes that he doesn't actually look angry.
In fact, he looks kind of relieved.
(Jinwoo tells himself he's imagined this.)
---
It's 4am when Jinwoo realises he is never going to be able to sleep on this excuse for a bed, but he keeps quiet, doesn't want to risk waking up his bandmates. He wouldn't want anyone else to lose sleep over his problems.
He's pretty sure he completely messed up Mino's sleeping pattern when the younger guy kindly offered to share his bed instead of sleeping on the floor on day one of the tour. Jinwoo's been feeling guilty about it since.
(Though not guilty enough to leave Mino's side until now.)
"Is anyone awake?" Mino suddenly whispers, the words almost seeming to echo in the quiet of the night. "Um- Jinwoo-hyung, if you can't sleep in that bed I will swap with you, okay?"
There is a pause, as Jinwoo wonders whether to add noise to the silence, to keep Mino awake, but after a moment's thought he realises that he can't bear to leave a question unanswered.
"I wouldn't wish this bed on anyone." It's a little dramatic, but Jinwoo is tired, and his back is sore, and honestly, he kind of just wishes the record company had kept forgetting about providing him with personal space. That they had left him sleeping next to an over excitable rapper with cold feet and soft hands. "It's horrible," he adds pathetically, but he's smiling as he says it.
Mino lets out a quiet laugh, says, "Have you been awake all this time? Me too."
Jinwoo pulls the blanket up round his shoulders and mumbles, "I'm sorry. It's my fault for keeping you awake every night with my snoring." Scrunches his eyes up in embarrassment.
Mino sits up, fumbles for the light-switch on the bedside table lamp, blinking at the sudden brightness, and then makes a beckoning motion.
"I'd sleep better if I knew you were comfortable-- Come on then," he says and pats the space on his left hand side. Adds "If you snore you have to get out." But he only half means it.
Or maybe he doesn't mean it at all.
Jinwoo hesitates for less time than he probably should, before slipping out from under the duvet and away from the rock, muttering empty promises of not snoring. Slides into the bed and alongside Mino, feeling comfort wrap around his tired limbs and the heaviness of sleep summoning him.
Jinwoo tells himself it's just because Mino's bed is so comfortable, and not because of the strong arm wrapped around his stomach absent-mindedly.
---
Jinwoo wakes up the next morning underneath Mino's shoulder, eternally cold feet ghosting his bare legs, and for a second can't remember how he got there.
But then it comes back to him; a worried face and a gentle hand pulling him towards his body, a voice thick with tiredness mumbling "that's better" as a warm chest pressed against his back.
Jinwoo feels a flush of joy wash over him. Questions if this is down to waking up in a certain place.
With a certain person.
But soon he declares in his mind that no, of course he's not happy about being here, he's just glad he's not completing a night of torture on the lumpy, hard fold-down bed. That this sudden flush of heat on his cheeks and the smile threatening to take over his whole face is down to where he isn't, not where he is, or who he's with.
(This is all lies.)
---
The routine of being on tour almost becomes monotonous.
They rehearse and perform, they eat and then sleep or they film for their documentary: days filled with laughter and fun ("It's like living in a game show!" Mino exclaims one morning when they read the set up for that day's shots), but long, arduous days all the same.
Some nights, when they get back to the hotel, no one speaks. They clamber onto beds, click aimlessly on their phones, Mino and Seunghoon competing to get the highest score in some online game and Jinwoo trying to figure out how many episodes of drama he has to catch up on without accidently clicking spoilers.
Every so often one of the three drifts away to the bathroom to shower and returns with a yawn, folds their tired limbs into bed and says "You're next" to whoever is closest to them. And then everyone is clean, damp hair sticking to their foreheads, shoulders tired but relaxed from the heat of the water, satisfied even though there are only five hours until their next schedule begins.
These nights, when they move in silence, when they're ghosts that haunt the same room to keep each other company, Jinwoo returns from his shower to find that his pillows have moved from his fold-down bed and are sat expectantly, side by side, with Mino's pillows on Mino's bed.
Neither of them ever say anything, neither acknowledge that it's silly to put the pillows back on the offensive excuse for a sleeping space every morning if they're going to return to the same place every night.
But that's okay.
Explanations aren't always necessary. And maybe, Jinwoo thinks, as Mino turns over in his sleep, his cold foot brushing over Jinwoo's calf as he makes himself comfortable one night, maybe if they talked about it, it would only serve to disturb the peace they have created.
Because, it's probably not completely normal, whatever that means, to find such comfort in sleeping so close to your friend, to lie awake sometimes and imagine you can hear their heart beating along with yours, to relish in the heat from their body or the accidental brush of a hand over your shoulder, to feel pleased when you wake under someone else's arm.
Most people don't feel that way. About their friends. Completely platonic friends.
Jinwoo doesn't feel this way. He repeats this lie to himself over and over in his head, round and round, until the words sound like they're from a made-up language.
---
On a cold morning in a city Jinwoo is too tired to remember, he slips out of bed and into sweatpants and shoes. Plans to go downstairs to the breakfast room early, load up on coffee and weird pastries from the continental breakfast he noticed earlier that the hotel restaurant is offering in an effort to attract tourists.
He ties a knot in the lace through his hoodie, hood pulled over his head, protecting him from his tiredness, from the cold, from their staff that might ask questions.
He made sure to learn the way to the hotel lobby, to the restaurant, to the gym. The three key places he maybe would visit by himself. He isn't going to attempt to go any further this morning; this never ends well, and anyway, in a whirlwind of rehearsal and performance, of filming and sleeping and not much else, he doesn't need to know how to get anywhere else.
Jinwoo nods politely at the hostess on the door of the breakfast room, asks, "Can I take some coffee back to my room?" and is glad of the cheerful response from the hotel worker.
Bundles sticky buns and custard filled pastries into his arms, balances three coffees in his grip and makes his way back upstairs, heart leaping a little (just a little) when he thinks of Mino's soft eyes in the morning, of how excited he'll be over sugared treats.
When Jinwoo gets back to the room, Mino is still oblivious to the world, eyes closed, mouth drawn in a line, eyes creased with perfect precision. Jinwoo's chest feels tight and he thinks that maybe he knows why. Maybe he's known why for a while.
(But still the lies go on.)
Seunghoon's awake, sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed. He takes a coffee and says, "I woke up in the night and you two were practically spooning."
Jinwoo snaps his head away from where he is watching Mino, says, "No we weren't."
Seunghoon shrugs, taking gulps of coffee and wincing at the heat. "I guess it was dark, maybe I'm mistaken." But he doesn't sound convinced.
Jinwoo can't bring himself to move, just stands there between their beds processing this until Seunghoon stretches, throws off his duvet and heads towards the bathroom. Stops before he reaches the door and says, "For the record, I think it's cute."
Jinwoo is flustered for the rest of the day.
---
The lies he tells himself start to eat away at Jinwoo as the tour goes on.
They distract him from remembering his Japanese introduction on stage one evening, causes him to quietly contemplate while the others chat loudly over dinner, wondering what it all means and if Mino thinks about it too, whilst the others steal meat from his plate and giggle.
But, after days of worry, Jinwoo comes to the conclusion (as he peers over his laptop screen at Mino's face, deep lines of concentration etched along his forehead as he lays collapsed across the bed on his stomach, tapping furiously at the game on his phone), that he's going to try to stop thinking - worrying - about what it all means.
He's going to try not to pinpoint those small twinges of sadness he gets when Mino films late, how it doesn't feel like he can sleep until he's there, next to him, and instead he promises himself that he will just focus on the comfortable silence. That, for now at least, he will try to take it for what it is:
Happiness.
(This decisiveness lasts approximately seven hours.)
---
The take a break from the tour, dragging suitcases full of dirty clothes and memorabilia back into the dorm, sliding onto their sofa and arguing over whose duty it is to make dinner on a Tuesday.
It's nice to be back to the familiarity, the regularity of dorm life, if only for a few days, and Jinwoo relishes the little things he would never have realised he was going to miss: the cool tiles in their overly cold bathroom against the soles of his feet in the morning, having a fridge of fresh fruit to hand at all times, there being enough room for everyone to sit comfortably in the lounge and chatter amongst themselves, even though it means that he can't hear what the lead actor is saying in his new favourite drama.
It's nice.
But. Well, It feels somewhat strange now, not being cramped together next to someone when he's drifting to sleep, not waking up to an elbow in the ribs at 2am when he's snoring too loudly. Not being woken by the tip tapping of fingers on keys as Mino tries to sneak onto his laptop to look for "incriminating evidence" with a wiggle of his eyebrows at 5am, still awake from the night before, bags underneath his eyes and a deliriously sleepy smile across his face.
It's not that he doesn't like sharing a room with Seungyoon in the dorm. He does - even though he forgets to wash sometimes and prods through his wardrobe in the mornings, turning his nose up at half of the items on Jinwoo's side - Seungyoon is one of his best friends, who has seen him through some really shitty times as a trainee.
Seungyoon is a thoughtful leader, a motivator, an inspiration.
(Jinwoo is making a list).
No, there is nothing wrong with Seungyoon as a roommate. What's wrong, it's clear, is simply that Seungyoon is Seungyoon, and not a comedian-come-rapper who lets him steal all of the duvet and snore into the back of his neck, who moves his pillows from uncomfortable beds to join his own and then pretends it happened by some twist of magic.
It's somewhat of an awkward predicament to be in, missing someone who has never really gone away. Missing waking up with your face buried into the t-shirt of a friend, missing the silence and the noise and those few seconds in the morning as their eyes flutter open, all heavy eyelids and ruffled hair and they whisper "Morning, hyung."
It's awkward, indeed, but it's the truth.
---
Jinwoo has always been a worrier. He's always gotten flustered over things that wouldn't phase somebody else and there's always been something on his mind as he waits for his body to give in to the immense tiredness and drift into a dreamless sleep of a night.
Or maybe not always, but it feels that way after years of monthly evaluations, of competition, and pushing himself to his limit and beyond.
Not until that first night, when he turned up in their hotel room and tried to sleep on the floor. (And then; Mino giving up his pillows with a smile. "I'm hardcore, I don't need pillows." complete with eyebrow wiggle, which only looked half ridiculous on his sleepy face.)
Jinwoo remembers that first night, the tension in his limbs dissipating as he had relaxed into the mattress and listened to the quiet breathing of the man next to him .
And so, in those few weeks, sleeping pressed against each other had become his and Mino's routine; their custom; their natural state of being. Even when it didn't have to be anymore. Even when Mino's get-out card had arrived in the form of sofa beds and fold-down beds shoved into the corner as though the staff were really never prepared to room three people. Even then, Mino had never used the card, had never even suggested he wanted his own space back.
("It's warmer like this." He'd shrugged one night when Jinwoo had tried, albeit feebly, to send himself back to the brick wall of a bed laid out for him, had wrapped a palm around Jinwoo's forearm and pulled him even closer.)
Jinwoo decides that It is almost as if this is where he's been fashioned to sleep all along: leg to leg with Song Minho at 2am, and then tucked tightly under his chin at 3.45, an arm draped casually over him one morning and a sharp elbow sticking in his back the next.
---
The tour starts and stops again in short bursts and the rooming system is thrown by odd hotel bookings. A room with four beds and another with a single is all they can get on the first stop and then the company rents a suite with room for everyone.
It's nice, the change, Jinwoo tells himself as he unpacks clothes neatly, places a book on the night-stand and surveys the damage that Mino has somehow already done despite the fact they've only been in the room ten minutes and surely he didn't have time to leave two white hotel towels on the floor at the end of his bed already.
He thinks he might take a bed next to Taehyun on the next stop. Sometimes it's nice to take in the quiet of their maknae, study his serious expression as he paws through some imported British street-art magazine he'd found to buy in the airport. Yes, that would be nice; relaxing even. After all, he doesn't need to wake up beside a particular person.
He's lying to himself, but, of course, he knows that fully well by now. Letting these falsities continue even when he thought they'd stopped flooding his brain. If Jinwoo is completely honest with himself (and he isn't very often), he knows he was saying a silent prayer as he headed for one of two beds in the alcove at the end of the hotel room that evening, a silent prayer for Mino to be the person who ended up in the bed next to his.
And he definitely knows there was an alarming amount of relief in his heart when the rapper had thrownhis suitcase on to the bed and high fived him.
It's just-- It's comforting, he's realised, to have him nearby. That's all. A sense of ease and simplicity that Jinwoo thinks that maybe he's never really felt in his whole twenty two years on this planet until the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes at night was the shadowy form of Song Minho.
Ease and simplicity, but also a tight feeling in his chest when a palm brushes bare skin, when the other man's chapped lips are inches from his own when he turns his head on the pillow, when he opens his eyes, smiles and says, "Go to sleep hyung, I'm having a nice dream."
As they lie there, in the alcove of the large hotel room, cool air coming in through an open window, Jinwoo contemplates this, glimpses across at the man on the bed next to him, realises with embarrassment that Mino's eyes are open too and he has been caught stealing a glance.
Mino reaches out a hand into the gap between their beds, finds Jinwoo's and closes his fingers around his wrist gently, just for a second. Says, "My pillows are lonely too."
Jinwoo tells himself this can't mean what he wants it to, but there is a tingling deep inside his chest until his eyes close and sleep takes him.
---
Jinwoo gets sick sometime after Christmas.
They're back in the dorms; photo shoots and interviews and the build up to début forming a buzz around their apartment, but also breaking down their natural defences.
Seungyoon declares that Jinwoo needs to be quarantined, like he's in some sci-fi movie or something. He has such a stern face on when he says it over dinner that even Taehyun bursts into laughter, but Seungyoon ignores everyone's tittering and carries on. "It's not that we don't love you, hyung," he says gently "But we can't risk everyone getting sick, we're too busy. So if someone else is willing to sleep in with me tonight, you need to stay in one of the single rooms... Quarantine," he reiterates with a satisfied nod.
Jinwoo doesn't mind this at all. The last thing he wants is to burden his bandmates with how terrible he feels, shivering one minute and burning up the next, unable to eat or keep down much more than plain water. He's never wanted to be a burden. Feeling like a burden has been one of the main reasons he's had trouble sleeping.
"All you can do is ride this one out, I'm afraid," the doctor says. "But it shouldn't last more than forty eight hours."
Jinwoo practically has forty eight hours of dramas to catch up on, their schedule has been so busy, so he knows he'll have something to fill the time during his isolation. It won't be too bad.
Sure, he feels like death warmed up, but he trusts the doctor and, anyway, he's lived through a sickly childhood of catching colds and sickness bugs after playing out at all hours with the local children. He's used to being sick and knows he will be fine given some bed-rest and maybe a cold towel or two on his head.
(He'll get those towels himself, though. Never one to be a burden, after all.)
--
Jinwoo knows it's sometime between 1 and 3am when his eyes flutter open, and he hears shuffling outside of the door of Taehyun's bedroom, the maknae having opted to give up his bed to the invalid.
Jinwoo waits a moment for his ears to adjust to being awake, before propping up his body on his arm and turning on the bedside lamp.
The noises stop suddenly, but Jinwoo can tell there is still a person on the other side of the door. Whispers "Hello?" in a soft voice and waits for a reply.
"Sorry," it's Mino. "I didn't mean to wake you."
The door opens and Mino approaches Jinwoo's form hesitantly, mumbling apologies. "I just wanted to check on you, is all." Mino pulls a face. "But then I thought I heard Seungyoon waking up and didn't want to get into trouble for-- for exposing myself to the quarantine."
He stands still for a moment, before seeming to suddenly remember why he's there and then he's holding out a glass filled with a golden yellow liquid. "It's tea with honey," he says. "Although I think it's meant to help more with sore throats, than, you know, full blown fevers."
He places it down on the bedside table. Looks apologetic. "I couldn't think of anything else to bring."
Jinwoo pulls the duvet up round his shoulders. "You didn't have to bring anything," he says, almost confused as to why there is a fidgety man standing at the side of his bed, twisting his face up in concern and hopping from foot to foot with restlessness.
"Seungyoon will murder us if he wakes up, you know. Believe me, I'd rather have this fever than deal with his wrath... Which would be justified," he points out. "He knows what he's talking about, you know. You can't get sick, the group needs you," Jinwoo asserts.
The rapper ignores him, prods at Jinwoo's legs so he shifts over on the bed and climbs on himself. "Nah. I'm keeping you company whilst you're sick. And I couldn't sleep, anyway." Mino stretches, pushes his way under the duvet. Adds, gingerly, "But I'll be able to now. With you."
Jinwoo feels a hot prickle of panic as Mino lies down. Limbs aching and skin burning as he sits huddled under duvets, over-tired and emotional, the creeping realisation tightening his throat.
Maybe it's because part of him has been telling himself over and over again that he's been making the whole thing up, that there is nothing different about the relationship between he and Mino compared to how he feels about the other three men he spends his waking hours with. But when Mino speaks the sort of words that Jinwoo thinks, that he keeps to himself, because it can't be, everything feels as though it is thrown off balance.
Jinwoo can play pretend with himself when nothing is said. But when words are spoken, words that can be recorded in history, words that make everything real, that provide a simple truth (that they're both a lonely as their pillows). Well, this makes it increasingly difficult to continue with the lies.
Mino tugs at Jinwoo's arm, pulling him out of his trance.
"Are you feeling hot or cold right now?" he asks, lines across his forehead. Jinwoo doesn't respond, still trying to process the situation around him.
Mino frowns in response to Jinwoo's silence, says, "Are you mad I came?" The lines in his forehead are deeper now, his mouth twisted into a frown. "I can go. I'll go. This was dumb." He says it all in one go, looking embarrassed, scrambling to get out of the bed.
"No-- Stay," Jinwoo manages, clutching Mino's arm, and the younger man hesitates, before relaxing into Jinwoo's grip and climbing back over the bed, a small smile on his tired face. Jinwoo lets him snake an arm around his shoulder and pull him back against the pillows. They lie still for a moment, Jinwoo staring up at the ceiling and feeling the soft rise and fall of Mino's chest under chin.
Mino sounds somewhat nervous, as though he's testing the waters when he says, "You're lucky to share a room with Seungyoon usually, I bet you never feel alone at night." For a moment, Jinwoo is sure he hears it as a question.
So he answers it as one, and truthfully. "I prefer being with you."
The tension in the air lifts and Jinwoo thinks for a moment he might be able to sense a grin on the rapper's face.
"I miss you," Mino mumbles somewhere close to Jinwoo's ear.
"Oh." Jinwoo has all but convinced himself by this point that he's in the middle of a very lucid fever dream. "Is this a very lucid fever dream?"
They're both asleep within three minutes.
---
When Jinwoo wakes the next morning, the first thing that he notices is that the shivering has subsided and the second is that he's alone.
He wonders for a moment whether last night even happened, but before he can thoroughly process things, Mino's face appears round the door. "Do you need breakfast bringing in to you?" he asks, almost shyly.
Jinwoo smiles. "I think I can make it into the kitchen. But thank-you. Really."
Thinks that maybe it's about time he stops with the lies and takes in the truths; simple, easy truths like the fact that Mino misses him, that Mino was there, even with his own room minutes away, was there with him.
Able to sleep.
---
It's after midnight some weeks later and Jinwoo is attempting in vain to stay in his own bed.
The problem is, that his once comfortable bed is starting to feel like those hotel fold-down beds that he never actually managed a full night's sleep on, and his neck is aching, and he's cold. (Kind of. Ish.)
Jinwoo is fully aware that he is making up excuses to go wandering into someone else's bedroom, but he manages to convince himself that he is kind of colder than usual and, anyway, he is pretty certain now that the person he wants to see craves his company too.
So, with as much stealth as possible, Jinwoo slips out of bed, ghosting across the room so to not to disturb Seungyoon, and turns the handle of their bedroom door with great caution. It would be unfair to halt Seungyoon's hard earned sleep, just because he selfishly wants to tuck himself in under someone's arm.
Jinwoo pads down the hallway towards his intended destination as quietly as he can muster, and he's sure he's gotten away with it, until he hears someone behind him clear their throat. When he turns, Seunghoon is just there, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, grinning at him.
"I woke up and realised I'd forgotten to brush them," he says as way of explanation, brandishing the toothbrush. "Couldn't sleep again until I'd got up and done it." He pauses. "Where are you going?"
Jinwoo twists his mouth, eyes darting round the hallway, looking for a clue to make up a viable answer.
But it turns out he doesn't need to, as Seughoon's grin turns into a laugh and he says kindly, "I'm joking, hyung. I know where you're going."
This doesn't make Jinwoo feel any calmer. "The kitchen?" he finally words that lie.
And Seunghoon leans back against the wall, toothbrush still in hand and nods. Tilts his head to the side and says, "You and-- the kitchen are idiots, you know that right?" But there is no menace behind his voice. "He likes you as much as you like him, trust me," he adds, a knowing glint to his eyes.
And then he's gone, the bathroom door shuts and Jinwoo hears the faucet turned on and water flowing, and he's alone again, left to stand there and process his friend's cryptic words.
Tries to tell himself Seunghoon is joking, knows that isn't true. Fewer lies, more truths.
Jinwoo's heart leaps in his chest.
---
Jinwoo manages to move at some point after this, although he doesn't remember the first step. Just remembers the warm sensation in his chest as Mino opens his bedroom door and smiles sleepily, says, "You look cold" and takes his hand, as if it is the most natural thing in the world. Pulls him down when they reach his warm bed, slips an arm around his shoulder with the one simple motion that tips the balance in the world so that everything makes sense and yet is completely indecipherable all at the same time.
Jinwoo catches sight of them in the mirror propped against the wall at the end of Mino's bed. Watches them lie there, pretending that they're not wholly content to be wrapped in each other, that they don't have to take deep breaths and stop themselves from touching the other in places they shouldn't, that friends can lie together night after night and not have urges they try to hide.
Jinwoo sees Mino chew on his bottom lip in the reflection and wonders if he's thinking the exact same thoughts, has identical worries. If he's also lying to himself about not being completely and irrevocably in love.
Jinwoo can't quite find the courage to ask such a loaded question, so instead he asks, "What are we doing?" and looks up at the ceiling, a fixed point in a hazy period.
"I don't know," Mino mumbles, pulls Jinwoo closer, if that's possible to do.
"If neither of us know..." Jinwoo trails off, reaching for ways to make trouble for his heart, for reasons to leave, to go back to his own bed and try to force his brain to turn off and sleep to take over as it had by himself for over twenty years.
"If neither of us know" Mino sounds decisive. "Then we should continue until we find out"
"I'm not just imagining this am I?" Jinwoo asks, no explanation of what "this" is. No explanation necessary. "I keep telling myself it means nothing, but I don't think that's true, not anymore."
Mino's stupidly cold feet find their way in between Jinwoo's warm ones and he whispers, "Seunghoon says being around us is like watching a drama romance play out excruciatingly slowly."
And Jinwoo thinks this is it, the game is up and they're an open book now. They're a story on the tip of a tongue, a song about to be performed, the quiet before an orchestra begins.
Mino is almost asleep, Jinwoo can hear it in his voice, when he says "I want this-- to be with you." Jinwoo finds for once in a long time, he can't manage to twist this into a lie he can use to tell himself that this isn't real.
And that is that.
--
Debut looms and Jinwoo takes to practising for long hours, long after the others have drifted off, pleading with him to join them for dinner, shaking their heads and saying "You'll get sick again" before they leave.
But Jinwoo is used to practising and he's used to being sick, and in his mind he's certainly used to being a burden as well. So he ignores their appeals, promises "one more hour" and stays.
Mino hangs behind. "I need to practise too."
Jinwoo knows he is lying, knows he could do this routine in his sleep, has watched the fluid movement of his body across the practise room all day. Part of him wants Mino to follow his bandmates' lead, to get some rest , go play that dumb game on his phone in peace. But most of Jinwoo is glowing inside in the knowledge that Mino wants to stay with him, for him.
Two hours into Jinwoo's extended rehearsal, Mino takes his hand and says, "Enough" through shortened breaths. They lean against the looming mirrors, limbs aching and minds racing.
Mino says, "You looked really nice this morning. Really -." Stops. Starts again. Deep breath and then "I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."
He looks across at Jinwoo through dark eyelashes.
Jinwoo returns Mino's gaze and says, "I-- Yes. I want that too."
And then Mino is close, against his chest, eyes fluttering closed, fingers gingerly curving along the base of his neck. The first kiss is slow, simple, perfect. Jinwoo has forgotten how good one kiss can feel, how much want can stem from the simple act of feeling someone's lips on your own.
The second kiss, third kiss, fourth, they're all perfect, deepening in intensity, Mino's fingertips pressing harder, pulling him flush against his body, wedging him between his chest and the mirrors
Mino opens him up, deepens the kiss, and Jinwoo's mouth is loose, their tongues slow, deliberately feeling their way. It's hot, so much hotter than Jinwoo can ever remember a kiss to be. Although, he's been so busy with making his dream come true, he can't actually remember when his last one was.
Suddenly Mino's hand is there, on him, and Jinwoo lets in a sharp breath, punctuated with a low whine at the back of his throat. Mino whispers, "Fuck" against his mouth, his hand finding Jinwoo's cock through layers of fabric and stroking deliberately. "I really, really like you," He mumbles again. Jinwoo can feel Mino's own cock pressed against his thigh, definitely hard or at least halfway there, feels Mino rolling his hips against him, as the rapper grazes his bottom lip with his teeth, brushes his palm down over his length once again.
Jinwoo reacts then. Finds the use of his own arms somehow, even though he's consumed with lust, dizzy, almost as though he's not in his own body at all, but on some distant plane of existence, all pleasure and nothing else. Pushes Mino back slightly, remembers. Says, "We can't-- Not here. We should go home."
---
Subsequent nights are a tornado of emotion, as if the floodgates opened when their mouths pressed together for that first time, as if every single feeling Jinwoo has previously pushed down, down, down, every feeling he has feigned ignorance of, are out in the open.
No lies, just kisses.
Jinwoo still tiptoes along the corridor, still pushes open Mino's door tentatively, still lets Mino take his hand and still pours himself into Mino's embrace, but the chasteness that once was there as Jinwoo had chewed on his bottom lip and wondered about normality as Mino had smiled in his sleep is replaced with need.
Delirious kisses and wandering hands take hold. Jinwoo is surprised to find that now they've reached this point, this pinnacle, now that there is complete and unalterable clearness that this isn't friendship, that this is something more and that it exists for both of them, he worries less and lets himself drift away with each kiss, forget himself and sink into Mino's fingertips, his measured touch.
Seunghoon walks into the kitchen with such stealth one morning that Mino and Jinwoo don't have time to break apart before he's there in front of them, saying "I take it this isn't a PG drama anymore?" with a grin.
Jinwoo feels his cheeks burn, quickly turns and busies himself with looking through the fridge. But Mino just scoffs. "It's none of your business," he says, but he's laughing, all wide grin and white teeth bared.
(Happy.)
---
Later that night Jinwoo says between kisses "When did you realise you liked me like...Like this?"
"I can't remember." Mino pushes a knee between Jinwoo's thighs, trails kisses along his jaw. "I didn't- I guess I maybe realised for sure--" runs his thumb over Jinwoo's hip "The first night you weren't in my bed anymore and I realised I wouldn't be able to sleep until you were." Nips at the sensitive skin on Jinwoo's neck.
"Poor Seunghoonie, sharing a room with us," Jinwoo sighs, always thinking of others, even when it's hard to think at all, Mino's knee nudging higher, rubbing through the thin material of his pants.
Mino says, "Yeah," but Jinwoo can tell he isn't listening, is already thinking of how it feels to be inside.
---
On a cold morning, Jinwoo awakes to Seungyoon's hand on his shoulder, the words "Time to get up, hyung!" and a smile.
This is the third day in a row he hasn't awoken in the dark of night and longed to feel Mino's skin on his, has instead slept straight through, six hours of uninterrupted slumber. By himself. Jinwoo wonders what this means.
Mino says, "I think it means that we're comfortable-- as we are. Together."
Jinwoo lets this sink in deep into his bones. Together. He and Mino are together.
Seunghoon rolls his eyes at them across the room, pouts and pushes his phone under Mino's nose. "I got the cute stylist noona's number, but I don't know what to text. If someone doesn't help me get laid soon I will climb into bed with you both as a protest and no one will get to have any."
Mino types a text for his friend faster than Jinwoo has ever seen someone do so before.
---
Another city, another cream carpeted hotel room. Jinwoo unpacks his suitcase, surveys the cleanliness of the room: soft towels folded neatly on the counter, shoes lined up outside the wardrobe. He smiles at Taehyun, who is sat cross-legged on his bed, listening to music on his ipod.
He slides into his own bed, opens his laptop and pushes one earbud in, double clicks on the file to play the latest episode of his favourite drama, pauses and looks up to take in his surroundings.
Sharing a room with the maknae was definitely a good idea.
Maybe his pillows are a little confused, but his boyfriend (boyfriend) will be there when they get home; Pillows shared, cold feet against his warm skin, tired eyes and a voice laced with sleep, whispering sweet things interspersed with empty complaints about snoring.
---
Jinwoo wakes up in the night, turns over contentedly and relishes in the ability to stretch his arms out wide as he does.
He is asleep again within seconds, dreaming of Mino's soft kisses, determined touches, smiles in the morning and some other truths.