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It starts with a quiet sniffle. One so soft that Yeonjun could’ve sworn was just his imagination, if he hadn’t turned his head to face Soobin. The soft rays of the winter sun spilling through the blinds reveal a subtle glimmer between Soobin’s eyelashes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun’s sharp gaze. Soobin rubs his eyes immediately after, and his fingers linger on his eyelids way too long for the action to be purely due to a lack of sleep.
Yeonjun pretends not to notice, opting to give a non-committal hum instead, fingers idly tapping away on his phone screen. He straightens his body, angles it in such a way that he can see Soobin from his peripheral vision. He’s curious, but not insensitive enough to press the younger for an explanation when he’s so obviously trying to compose himself.
The both of them are huddled together playing a mobile game about an island of penguins on Yeonjun’s bed. The game that Yeonjun bragged about spending several sleepless nights trying to overtake every single player on his buddy list. (Soobin poked fun at him for that, teasing. “I deleted the game after an hour, hyung. Yet here you are losing sleep over a mere penguin game.”)
Soobin ate his words though, the moment he re-downloaded the game after Yeonjun showed off his penguin island almost fully customised with top tier accessories. (“Bet you’re salty ‘cuz you’ll never earn this fancy “Legendary Big Hit Penguin Keeper” title. Just stick to playing League with your countless Olaf skins,” Yeonjun challenged.) The proud, hot-headed, competitive gamer in Soobin made his rare appearance and bit down on Yeonjun’s obvious bait.
Here they are now, two overgrown, gangly adult males pressed up against each other, long legs overlapping, fully immersed in said Mere Penguin Game. Arms almost touching as they bask in a comfortable silence apart from the sporadic tapping sounds.
Yeonjun can almost hear Beomgyu dramatically scoffing at them from the entrance to Yeonjun’s room. “As always, Soobin hyung just treats our room as an internet café,” he would remark, a playful grin dancing at the corner of his lips. Yeonjun thanks the heavens that it’s just him and Soobin in the dorm today, both of them given a well-deserved day off while the younger members attend back to back English classes they missed out on earlier this year.
Yeonjun brings his focus back to the mobile game in front of him, as he expertly navigates through the massive penguin island in the game. Penguins are awfully cute, but boy are they high maintenance, Yeonjun thinks.
Quite like the younger man next to him, who coincidentally just let out a deep sigh, putting his phone down to bury his face in his hands. Yeonjun definitely isn’t complaining though. He would love to take care of people, such as Kai, but the resident baby has got Soobin gushing over him so frequently that Yeonjun doesn’t see the need to.
He prefers to be selective in his affections. Specifically, to Soobin.
Soobin, who dangles his heart on his sleeve only for Yeonjun to seize. That very same Soobin who, at the peak of his teenage angst with no outlet for his feelings, was selected to be the leader of the group. Yeonjun has since tasked himself with the duty of tirelessly gnawing at the walls of Soobin’s tough, indifferent exterior, much to the latter’s dismay. As the first layer came crumbling, years of unsaid, suppressed emotions followed, crashing down in waves. And once Yeonjun caught a whiff of the younger’s overflowing warmth, there was no turning back.
“What’s up?”, Yeonjun whispers, suddenly feeling a bit emotional as he gently lifts a hand to ruffle Soobin’s hair. Soobin almost immediately leans into his touch, turning his head a little for Yeonjun to run his fingers softly through the faded purple locks, stopping at his long sideburns only to end up reaching for his earlobes habitually.
Soobin shrugs. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but—”
Yeonjun feels Soobin’s back shudder as he takes a deep broken breath. He panics slightly, hand immediately scooting down to rub comforting circles into the younger’s back. He keeps his hand there, knowing from experience that it keeps Soobin grounded when his thoughts race too quick for him to handle.
“I‘ve been really down lately. I can’t sleep, my emotions seem to be on high tide all the time,” Soobin confesses, after a short while. His voice is watery and soft, muffled by how his face is buried deep in his arms.
Yeonjun frowns, feeling his heart ache at the smallness of Soobin’s voice, wondering how much Soobin has been holding back. Of course he’s noticed. Yeonjun has seen for himself how Soobin cries quietly when he thinks no one is watching, covered by his blankets. His large, shaking frame gives it away, which immediately stills when he hears footsteps coming in the room.
Yeonjun knows, how the comeback that they’ve poured their soul into being continuously delayed has taken a mental and physical toll on all the members, himself included. Yeonjun could feel the sadness radiating off Soobin’s slouched shoulders whenever he’s called in for a meeting with management.
Yeonjun felt horribly guilty that Soobin had to shoulder the burden alone, berating himself for not reaching out first. At the same time, Yeonjun was scared of the future. What say did he have in a situation that no one could control?
Yeonjun chooses not to comment, carefully schooling his facial expression into one of understanding although he knows the younger is too occupied with his own thoughts to see him anyway. Yeonjun makes a mental note to talk to Soobin about bottling his emotions up once again. The boy never learns.
He wordlessly laces his fingers with Soobin’s longer ones, tracing the bumps of his knuckles. Yeonjun sits up and pulls the younger boy into his arms so that Soobin’s head rests on his shoulder. Soobin is pliant, allowing himself to be enveloped by Yeonjun’s scent and warmth, his tear-stained cheeks pressed against Yeonjun’s collarbone.
“Hey,” Yeonjun tries, hoping to get Soobin’s attention. “Look at me, Soobin-ah.”
Soobin’s back remains hunched as he looks away, playing with the sleeves of his black sweater mindlessly. He appears so, so unguarded to Yeonjun, and Yeonjun lets his heart swell knowing that he is the only one who gets to see Soobin like this. To the public, Soobin is their tall, charismatic leader who sometimes stumbles over his words because he’s just a nervous ball of excitement. To the members, Soobin is their foundation, never failing to support them from below, always willing to cushion their falls, though he became soft after debut.
To Yeonjun, Soobin has and always been his anchor. Keeping him from being swept away by the currents of his thoughts. And Yeonjun knows for certain that he is Soobin’s ship, the one who pulls him back up with praise and recognition when his confidence dwindles ever so often.
“Don’t you sometimes feel like running away, hyung?” Soobin whispers into Yeonjun’s neck, plush lips lightly grazing Yeonjun’s skin, effectively bringing Yeonjun back to reality. Yeonjun’s heart skips a beat—he’ll never get used to this, even after all these years with the both of them skittering between the fine lines of friendship and courtship. The question got Yeonjun’s mind racing though, as he’s never really thought about it before, so what exactly does Soobin want him to say?
Soobin doesn’t wait for Yeonjun’s reply and he continues, “I do. I want to run away from all my responsibilities sometimes. And I was thinking that if I do, I want to run away with you, hyung. The both of us.”
And for the first time, Soobin looks up and locks eyes with Yeonjun, the mobile game long forgotten as Soobin’s phone flickers on the bed. Yeonjun’s gaze falls onto Soobin’s lips, the hand that was absentmindedly playing with Soobin’s earlobes coming into a stop, cupping Soobin’s dimpled cheeks.
“No one makes me happier than you, Choi Yeonjun.” Soobin whispers. His eyes are lidded, still holding eye contact as he snuggles into Yeonjun’s sweaty palm, lips mouthing the words Yeonjun always yearned to hear.
Yeonjun almost tears up right then and there. He pulls Soobin into a kiss, lips crashing against the pair of soft lips haphazardly, but he doesn’t care. He can’t bring himself to, when the object of his affection for the past five years melts into his embrace. He feels Soobin’s arms snake around his back to cling onto him shakily, a small breathy whine escaping his throat. Yeonjun has to physically stop himself from getting too greedy as he pulls away, relishing in the way Soobin’s swollen mouth forms a pout once he opens his eyes.
“Y-you could’ve gone further, hyung. I really wouldn’t have minded,” Soobin states sincerely as he reaches down to hold Yeonjun’s hand. Such a simple gesture really shouldn’t have made Yeonjun clam up, but the underlying meaning of Soobin’s words makes his mouth fall agape slightly. A tiny smirk forms at the corners of Soobin’s lips, pretty bold for someone who still has tear streaks staining his cheeks. He drapes himself over Yeonjun once again, burying his face in the elder’s neck.
“Not when you’re vulnerable like this, baby.” Yeonjun replies, his pet name for Soobin slipping out of his lips naturally now that he’s calmed down. He internally cringes at how his voice is laced with affection, sickeningly sweet even to his ears.
Soobin stays quiet, seemingly satiated by Yeonjun's answer. Even if he isn’t, he will have to accept it, as Yeonjun is intent on savouring all the firsts he has with Soobin.
“Are you feeling better?” Yeonjun continues after a moment of silence. Soobin doesn't seem to have heard him. Yeonjun pauses, fingers fiddling with the hem of Soobin’s sweater nervously. “You know, I will go everywhere with you. Gladly. I love you, Soobin-ah.”
There they are. The words that have always been at the tip of Yeonjun's tongue whenever Soobin does something even vaguely adorable. Not the coolest way or setting to confess, but Yeonjun figures that it could've been worse. He can always repeat it again and again and again anyway. It's always the first time that's the hardest, right?
Besides, he gets to feel how Soobin tenses up over him, and isn’t at all surprised when Soobin trembles ever so slightly. Now he wonders just why he hasn't said it much earlier. Yeonjun snickers to himself when he feels a warm, wet patch on his shirt once again, earning himself a slight slap on his back.
“You must be hungry. Let’s go have a meal, my crybaby.”