Work Text:
Your boyfriend was amazing today.
Yeonjun’s reply to Yeosang’s message is immediate. He sends it almost unthinkingly, the pride swelling in his chest as natural as breathing.
Damn right he was.
He sends heart emojis. He adds a fire emoji for good measure.
Wooyoung’s reply in their group chat is a series of smirking emojis, followed by the question:
But does he know?
Yeonjun arches an eyebrow, his own mouth quirking.
That he’s amazing? Yeonjun huffs as he types the words almost indignantly. I tell him every single day.
Yeonjun made sure to text Soobin immediately after the broadcast ended. He couldn’t be there to welcome him home like he did the week before—mostly because the dentist warned against too much physical exertion this soon after his wisdom tooth extraction, and Yeonjun had sulked in disappointment in having to postpone carrying Soobin back the way Kai did after the first broadcast—so his competitive self settled with wanting to be the first to congratulate Soobin that day. (He scowled when Soobin sent a quick reply only to tell him that he was second, next to Beomgyu.)
He waits patiently as two rows of dots appear on his phone screen as both his friends are typing at the same time on the other end of the line. Their replies arrive one after the other.
Wooyoung says: But does he know he’s your boyfriend?
And Yeosang says: Careful, he’s already making everyone here fall in love with him.
A pause. Yeonjun stares, his mind blanking out, not knowing what to say. The dots appear again, quicker this time, and Yeosang sends a winking emoji and a kissing emoji and follows it with:
Even *I’m* falling in love with him.
To which Wooyoung adds: Then again, Yeonjunie has always liked it when there’s competition, right?
Yeonjun throws his phone across his bed.
Yeonjun recognises the pang of jealousy as soon as it settles over his skin. He’s not in the habit of lying to himself, and he resignedly accepts the green little thing taking root inside his chest.
As always, though, he has a bad habit of overanalysing everything—and Soobin isn’t even here to talk him down from it, Yeonjun thinks bitterly—and the problem right now is that he can’t quite put his finger on as to why he’s jealous.
He first feels the tendrils of it creeping across his heart as soon as he sees Soobin on screen with his old friends. It’s not like he hasn’t kept in touch with Wooyoung or Yeosang or doesn’t hang out with them outside of their schedules on music shows—he does, constantly—but something about seeing his former co-trainees and his current bandmate together makes Yeonjun feel inexplicably left out.
Like he’s missing something incredibly important.
On screen, Yeosang makes Soobin laugh, and there: the pang on his chest. Two thoughts occur to him at once:
Thank you for making him laugh—
and
—you should have held on to him, he likes holding on to someone when he laughs.
Something inside of him stings. He attributes it to the anaesthesia wearing off.
Soobin and Arin have chemistry, Yeonjun has to admit.
He smiles as he watches Soobin imitate Arin dancing to Solo, with just the right amount of good-natured ribbing. He’s a lot less shy now, though his endearing awkwardness still shines through. That’s okay, Yeonjun thinks, that’s actually for the best. It’s part of his charm. It’s what makes Soobin—Soobin.
And judging from the amount of views Soobin’s clips at Music Bank are getting, a lot more people are starting to get it.
And Yeonjun is happy for it, he really is. He’s glad that so many people are now seeing Soobin the way he always has: a source of comfort, inspiration, and joy.
And yet, there it is again; his hand flies up to clutch at his chest, fingers curling tightly against his shirt.
It took him years before Soobin was comfortable enough around him: open to receiving his admittedly overbearing affection—open to giving it in return, precious and rare, all greedily hoarded by Yeonjun.
He wonders how it only took Arin two weeks.
Yeonjun props his chin on his palm, unable to keep the fondness at bay as he watches Soobin dance along to Gotta Go. It’s been a surprising revelation, how Soobin fits seamlessly into girl group dances. Taehyun must have watched that Dolphin fancam a thousand times already, contributing to majority of the views; Yeonjun huffs as he remembers how Taehyun went on Weverse and proudly declared himself to be Soobin’s number one fan now.
That’s not exactly true, Yeonjun thinks sourly, as he’s pretty sure Taehyun has competition in that department. There’s Kai, of course, ever the gumdakkji. The maknaes do share a special bond with their favourite hyung.
And then there’s—
Yeonjun bites his lip. Objectively and without malice, Yeonjun thinks Soobin could’ve danced it better; his movements are still a bit too stiff than what the dance warrants, though Yeonjun knows it can be attributed to how their training over the years focused a lot on power movements. He remembers how all of them had to do major adjustments to the way they dance while they were learning the choreography for Fairy of Shampoo, though as the dance captain, Yeonjun had been immensely proud of Soobin for having picked up the choreography the fastest and quickly becoming his co-captain in guiding the other members through the steps.
He really is born to be a leader, Yeonjun thinks wistfully.
He huffs in silent laughter when he sees on screen how Soobin is suddenly at a loss for words, and feels his heart clench fondly at the way Soobin’s eyes crinkle when he giggles at himself as Jessi continues to tease him. She’s an intimidating presence, yet Soobin takes it in stride, and he dances awkwardly along to Nunu Nana even as Jessi roasts him for it.
He should schedule more dance practices with Soobin. Maybe with the other members too—
Yeonjun frowns, contemplating. No, Soobin will benefit from more one-on-one sessions with him. He’s going to be performing a whole lot more in the future for his MC stint, and the least Yeonjun can do is help him be even better at his dances—not that Soobin isn’t good enough already.
Soobin doesn’t really need his help, he’s obviously doing well on his own, but—Yeonjun can be a good hyung, right? He can offer his services, ‘cause it’s… all he can do.
Soobin… doesn’t really need him anymore.
“Yeonjun-hyung?”
Yeonjun isn’t in the habit of lying to himself, so when he hears the voice—familiar, dear, beloved—coming from his bedroom door, he doesn’t deny the way his heart leaps against his ribs like a pet jumping against its cage and whimpering to reunite with its owner, he’s home he’s home he’s home!!! running around his brain like a joyous mantra.
“Soobinie?” he calls out hopefully.
“Why is it so dark in here?” Soobin complains as he flicks on the switch, eyes squinting in that way Yeonjun finds helplessly adorable as they adjust to the light. Soobin takes one look at Yeonjun curled underneath his blanket, blinks, and curiously asks:
“Are you moping?”
Yeonjun scowls as he sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest. “For your information,” he huffs in indignation, “I’m recovering.”
Soobin’s mouth quirks in amusement as he lets himself inside Yeonjun’s bedroom without even asking for permission—not that Yeonjun isn’t going to welcome him with open arms each time anyway.
He doesn’t want any boundaries with Soobin, Yeonjun realises in horrifying clarity, hands curling tightly on his blanket. Even now, with Soobin standing only several feet away, he’s still much, much too far.
I miss you, Yeonjun thinks fiercely, achingly. I miss you all the damn time, even when we’re together.
And now that we’re not—
Yeonjun swallows, throat tightening.
“Recovering,” Soobin repeats slowly, disbelievingly, “from your wisdom tooth extraction?”
And now that we’re not—
Soobin grins—radiantly, beautifully.
It hurts to look at him.
“You’re such a big baby,” Soobin remarks fondly, and it becomes Yeonjun’s breaking point.
“Hey.” The protest comes out garbled and watery against Yeonjun’s bidding, his tight leash over his wayward emotions dangerously fraying as he hugs his knees against his chest. Normally the banter would be welcome, but Yeonjun is just—inexplicably vulnerable today. He doesn’t think he can handle Soobin making fun of how terribly needy he feels right now.
Soobin quiets, expression turning keen and thoughtful the way he always does when he’s observing his members or assessing the situation as their ever dependable leader. Yeonjun feels naked, feels seen, as he’s beginning to realise that he’s depending on Soobin for so, so much more than is required of him as his job.
As his friend, even.
Yeonjun buries his face on his knees.
“Don’t be like that,” he hears Soobin say softly, and Yeonjun has to fight the sudden strong urge to cry. “Here, I brought you something.”
Yeonjun stiffens, and slowly raises his gaze. He blinks, looks down at Soobin’s outstretched arms, and finally sees what he’s holding.
Yeonjun stares. He can’t breathe. There’s something exploding within him, an emotion he can’t quite name but one that he’s been fighting to keep at bay for weeks, months, years, finally bubbling to surface as he realises that Soobin is offering him—
“… Mint chocolate ice cream?”
Soobin ducks his head, suddenly shy. “When I had my tooth extraction, my dentist told me that ice cream helps in numbing the pain.” He looks up at Yeonjun from beneath his lashes, dimples cratering his cheeks as he smiles softly, eyes gentling in apology. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you today. You must be hurting.”
Yes, Yeonjun thinks desperately, though it’s not because of my extraction. “Soobinie,” he says instead, “you hate mint chocolate.”
Soobin wrinkles his nose. “I mean, I don’t hate it, exactly. I guess it just depends on…” he trails off hesitantly.
“On?” Yeonjun prompts.
He sees Soobin take a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself, and Yeonjun’s brows furrow confusedly at the flush that suddenly feathers Soobin’s cheeks. “On who I’m eating it with,” Soobin exhales.
“Oh,” Yeonjun says, frowning. The green little thing on his heart sprouts into a seedling. “So I guess Arin changed your mind, then.”
Soobin blinks. Yeonjun stares back.
“Hyung,” Soobin says patiently. “She’s not the one I bought this for."
Yeonjun blinks, sees the two spoons Soobin is holding too, and realises the ice cream is being offered to share.
“… Oh,” Yeonjun breathes, all the air punched out of him.
Soobin laughs, and Yeonjun’s heart goes: oh.
Oh.
“Scoot over,” Soobin tells him with a smile, and Yeonjun’s entire being has been primed to follow his leader—no matter where, when, or how.
No matter what.
Soobin stretches out his long, long self on Yeonjun’s bed, and Yeonjun’s stomach does a little flip at how Soobin looks like he belongs there. He watches as Soobin carefully opens the tub and places the lid on Yeonjun’s bedside desk. Then he turns to Yeonjun, holds out one of the spoons meaningfully, and waits.
Too far, Yeonjun thinks dazedly. Still too far.
He crawls over Soobin and sits between Soobin’s long, long legs. He thinks he hears Soobin gasp softly, though that might have been from the impact of Yeonjun’s body hitting his when Yeonjun leans back so that his head is resting on the crook of Soobin’s neck and shoulder.
He wiggles, letting himself be comfortable (he thinks he hears Soobin whimper), and positions his mouth between Soobin and the spoon hovering in the air before him.
“Feed me,” he demands simply.
There’s a defining moment that hangs in the air between them, silent and tense. Dimly, Yeonjun imagines it exactly the way it happens in their Eternally MV, when time just stops.
“Hyung,” Soobin breathes.
“Please,” Yeonjun whispers.
This close, Yeonjun both hears and feels the way Soobin swallows. Trembling, yet so minutely Yeonjun thinks he’s just imagining it, Soobin digs the spoon into the ice cream. He lifts it, draws it closer, and Yeonjun can feel the heat of Soobin’s gaze when he closes his lips around it.
He hears Soobin’s sharp intake of breath as Soobin slides the spoon out slowly. Yeonjun closes his eyes and lets the burst of flavour fill his mouth with minty coolness and bittersweet chocolate chips.
“Good?” Soobin rasps against his ear, and Yeonjun dazedly opens his eyes.
Too far. Still much, much too far.
He tangles their legs and hooks their feet together. He takes Soobin’s arm—the one holding the tub of ice cream—and draws it closer to his waist, fitting himself more tightly into Soobin’s embrace. His other hand finds the pocket of Soobin’s pants and buries itself inside.
He feels the curve of Soobin’s smile against his temple, lips just shy of brushing the skin. “Does it still hurt?” Soobin murmurs, and truthfully, Yeonjun has forgotten about his tooth extraction by now.
He turns his face until he noses the back of Soobin’s temptingly biteable ear, and inhales deeply, until he feels himself drowning in Soobin’s scent, his warmth, his healing presence.
The green little thing in his heart shrivels away.
“No,” Yeonjun sighs happily, finally content. “Not anymore.”
But I always thought you’d come back
Tell me all you found was heartbreak and misery
It’s hard for me to say
I’m jealous of the way
You’re happy without me.