Work Text:
(1)
Summer was always hell for Chanhee.
Since getting a room to himself, there hadn't been as many complications as there were when having three roommates: there was actually space that Chanhee could use to put his belongings without worrying about it getting mixed up with at least two other peoples'; he could see the floor, he could walk on the floor, he could lay on the floor; the A/C was no longer being hogged by Sanghyuk's lucky position on the top bunk.
But since getting a room to himself, Chanhee had learned that self-responsibility was not his strongest trait.
For example, closing the curtains was always Seokwoo's job because he had common sense and knew that leaving the room to steam in the natural sunlight for sixteen hours would be the death of all four of them. So, Chanhee had grown accustomed to that particular task not being of his concern because of course someone else would take care of it.
Chanhee laid in his bed, eyes resolute on the hazy ceiling above, smothered in a swamp of his own perspiring skin and clingy sheets.
Even after kicking his blanket away and hanging his feet off the mattress's edge, he still felt no less like a boiled egg. So, he heaved his torso off the bed, tucking his chin to his chest out of habit, and began his slow exit from the room. Nobody was really a light sleeper, but Chanhee didn't feel like risking waking the entire dorm because his sweaty palms couldn't keep a steady grip on the worn doorknob.
Creeping out and shutting the door behind him, Chanhee shuffled over to the kitchen. He figured if he couldn't fall asleep, he may as well binge whatever snacks were available.
Tucked into the corner of the couch, legs stretched long and wide across the cushions, Chanhee made his way through the few bags of chips he'd managed to scavenge.
The city life was his quiet background, the moon waxing its gentle rays across the wooden boards of the floor, and Chanhee reveled in the bliss that was an empty room with the A/C on full blast.
However, his haven was soon disrupted because the front door creaked open, and Chanhee remembered that Youngbin had stayed at the company for a meeting with the director about their upcoming comeback schedules. He slid further down the couch until he was hidden behind the backrest and listened as Youngbin kicked off his shoes and shuffled into the living room. He watched as Youngbin's silhouette trudged past him, ignorant of his presence, and into the hallway.
Chanhee sank further into the cushions, resigning himself to a deep sleep on the couch, and startled when he heard Youngbin's footsteps patter back into the living room. They faltered near the couch, and Chanhee peered up at Youngbin's looming figure.
"Chani?" Youngbin whispered. "What are you doing out here?"
Chanhee groused and slid his palms down his face, slowly lifting his torso off the cushions and settling into a half-slumped position against the backrest.
"'s too hot," he murmured.
Youngbin let out a faint "ah" of understanding before collapsing beside Chanhee on the couch. They sat facing each other, knees braced together, and Chanhee could see Youngbin's searching gaze in the faint moonlight.
When the silence stretched for too long, and Youngbin's stare began to crawl under Chanhee's balmy skin, Chanhee finally caved and sighed out, "What?"
"Nothing," Youngbin hummed, his gentle smile coloring his tone. "Just checking on you."
"Why didn't you go to bed?" Chanhee asked, even though he had an inkling of the reason. It wasn't exactly a secret, after all.
Youngbin's smile turned wry, the shadows that splayed their fingers across his face shifting with his obvious discomfort.
"Ah. Well, Jaeyoon had some...company. I didn't want to interrupt them."
Chanhee could feel his expression mirroring Youngbin's.
It was always awkward, walking in on the aftermath of their members'...affairs. They were all open and supportive of it since it helped relieve stress, and it didn't really hurt anyone. In fact, most of them had participated at one point, but there was something about...being left out—about seeing a moment you were never meant to be a part of.
"Sleeping out here, then?" Chanhee asked.
He would've offered his own bed, but he doubted that the room had aired out yet, and he didn't want to subject Youngbin to that kind of torture. Not when he looked so wrung out and pliant.
"Only if you are," Youngbin said.
His smile was gentle again, overly fond, even, and Chanhee rolled his eyes.
"It's too hot to share the couch," Chanhee groaned, ignoring the A/C that decided to sputter to life at that moment, ignoring the gooseflesh that ran down his trembling arms.
"It'll be nice and toasty," Youngbin insisted, already pressing forward, hands braced on Chanhee's thighs.
Chanhee let out another groan and flailed about when Youngbin leaned even further into his space, falling onto his back with a whine.
"Hyung," he sighed, hands coming up to stop Youngbin's incoming kiss. "It's too hot."
Youngbin ignored his complaints and slid between Chanhee's back and the couch, arms naturally residing along Chanhee's waist as he hooked his chin over Chanhee's shoulder. He nuzzled his cheek against Chanhee's, and Chanhee held in the scream that threatened to part his lips.
"See?" Youngbin sighed, breath hot against Chanhee's damp skin. "Toasty."
"How am I supposed to sleep like this?" Chanhee grumbled.
He struggled in Youngbin's arms for a few seconds before quickly giving up because he could feel the sweat forming in his hairline.
"Easy: Just relax."
As if to prove his point, Chanhee felt Youngbin's body go languid behind his, arms loosening their grasp on his waist and head falling against the couch's back cushions. His breathing slowed and settled placidly against the crown of Chanhee's head, fingers tracing the crinkles of Chanhee's shirt.
"Just like this," Youngbin murmured, and Chanhee's body unwittingly leaned into his. "There you go."
"'s hot," Chanhee whispered.
Youngbin hummed something incomprehensible, and Chanhee hadn't the energy to ask for a repeat. He simply laid there, trapped in Youngbin's hold, and accepted the incoming summer heat that drew his cheeks flush.
(1.5)
Chanhee didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but he knew he hadn't slept for nearly long enough because the sunlight was pale against his face.
Yet, as Chanhee cracked his eyes open, he found that all of his dormmates were herded around him, and if he squinted his eyes, he could spot the other members hovering near the edges of the living room, gazes amused and smiles endeared.
"Chani-ah," Sanghyuk cooed as he kneeled in front of Chanhee, and Chanhee felt something like dread pool in his gut. "Whatcha doing out here?"
Chanhee's eyes fluttered closed as he attempted to process Sanghyuk's question.
Right. Chanhee had fallen asleep on the couch because... Because it was hot. Too hot, even, and he just wanted to cool off.
But as his mind slowly pulled itself from the dredges of sleep, he finally acknowledged the warmth that embraced his sweat-drenched back; the arms that drew him closer; the legs that curled around his; the steady breathing that puffed against his nape.
"Ah," he said, realization dawning on him as he opened his eyes and met Sanghyuk's mischievous grin.
They must have planned it out before waking him, because immediately after Chanhee's awareness, Sanghyuk lunged forward and landed a wet, obnoxiously loud kiss on his lips right as someone else grabbed him by the ankles and began to tug him off the couch.
Chanhee flailed his limbs about, chaos erupting around him as the rest of the members decided to dog-pile him, and it wasn't until he received at least ten more kisses from Sanghyuk and kicked three other members in the gut when they decided to back off.
Gasping for breath and flat on his back, Chanhee stared up at his surrounding members' satisfied grins.
"Sleep well?" Youngkyun asked, smile wide and pleased.
"You," Chanhee gasped, "better watch yourselves today."
"Oh!" Sanghyuk exclaimed, ignoring Chanhee's threat. "Youngbin-hyung's awake!"
Like a pack of hyenas, they were on Youngbin before he could even open his eyes.
(2)
Chanhee thought it odd that Juho and Taeyang went blond, but then he realized that blonds were pretty popular during the summer, so he pardoned them from the relentless teasing he would have joined in on; Seokwoo and Youngkyun were already getting on their case, and the bleach hadn't even settled yet.
"I was thinking of doing red again," Chanhee overheard Youngbin tell the hairstylists.
Chanhee thought it odd that Youngbin kept going back to red. He figured that it had grown to be a familiar color to Youngbin, far more comforting than the natural raven that curled atop his head.
But as Chanhee stopped and stared witness to Youngbin's own bleaching process, he tossed that probability aside as Youngbin hissed against the invisible flames that consumed his scalp.
Maybe Youngbin had fallen victim to the quiet summer belief that the sun's gaze would avoid what was brighter than it. At least, that was what Chanhee thought as he sat and watched Youngbin go through three more bleaching sessions before getting the go-ahead for red; his hair wasn't starch, per se, but it certainly held a dazzle to it that Chanhee felt blinded by.
Chanhee curled into his own chair in preparation for his caramel transformation. He sighed in appreciation as the stylist's fingers massaged into his scalp before immediately recoiling at the first burn of bleach.
When he was dismissed for his hour-long rest, Chanhee settled into a waiting chair in the saloon's far corner. There wouldn't be many chances for sleep with their upcoming photoshoots and filming, so he wouldn't waste such a golden opportunity—no matter how entertaining the development of Juho and Taeyang's teasing had become when Sanghyuk decided to add his two cents.
His eyes couldn't have been shut for more than thirty minutes before he felt someone shaking his shoulder.
He peered open a cautious eye and groaned when he realized that it wasn't a stylist beckoning him for his dye.
"Hyung," Chanhee groaned as he shut his eyes again. "Wake me up in an hour."
"I wanted to show you before anyone else," Youngbin whispered, hand still resting atop Chanhee's shoulder, fingers kneading the sore muscles. "Come on, just a quick peek."
Figuring he wouldn't be left alone unless he obliged, Chanhee begrudgingly opened his eyes. They landed on the red-stained towel that sat atop Youngbin's shoulders before making their way up to the culprit.
It wasn't scarlet.
That familiar, comforting color of deep, deep scarlet—often bleeding into obscurity by the natural raven that lay underneath—was imprinted into Chanhee's expectations. It wasn't the first time he had gone a shade lighter with red, but—Youngbin and red? Of course it was going to be dark. That was just how Youngbin was.
Despite laying witness to Youngbin's four-hour-long session, Chanhee thought it odd he couldn't fathom a color on him that was not scarlet.
Youngbin's eyes were alight with something Chanhee knew was expectant.
"What do you think?" Youngbin prompted.
Before Chanhee could muster up a reply, the stylist was calling him over, and he pardoned himself from the conversation without a backward glance.
He walked past the chaos surrounding Juho and Taeyang's seats and settled into his own with a sigh. The stylist got to work washing the bleach out, and he relaxed under the sophisticated touch.
He almost drifted off, but before he could submit himself to the void of sleep, he was awoken to move to another chair to get his dye settled. Unfortunately, the chair was set next to Juho and Taeyang's, so Chanhee was, inevitably, dragged into the chaos.
"Chani!" Juho shouted, expression desperate in the corner of Chanhee's mirror. "Tell them to stop! It's not even that funny!"
"It's pretty funny," he said, erupting another round of complaining and teasing.
There was something cathartic about watching his members verbally dog-pile a select few—like it was an impromptu team-exercise that would only end if the victims surrendered to the truth surrounding them.
His thoughts trailed after the conversation—the voices of his members fading and drifting to the far reaches of his mind—until he ultimately found himself back in that void of sleep. It was so elusive and tranquil that he couldn't help but welcome it.
It bid its hasty farewell all too soon when Sanghyuk's cackle echoed in the saloon.
Chanhee blinked open his eyes and looked toward the noise in an automatic trance.
It wasn't scarlet.
Right. He'd almost forgotten that.
Thank goodness his members were there to remind him.
Chanhee stared on as Youngbin, all too easily, fell victim to the other members teasing. Juho and Taeyang must have been desperate for an escape because they were doubling down on him, and Youngbin took it all in stride. At least, that's what Chanhee suspected. He didn't seem too phased by it, merely laughing at every witty and expected prod and tease the members gave his Not Scarlet hair.
"Chani!" Inseong called out, breathless from laughter. "Have you seen Youngbinnie's hair?"
Chanhee made a sound deep in his throat, sleep still heavy on his mind.
"He's the first person I showed, actually," Youngbin said, the smile on his face almost proud.
"God, you're cheesy," Sanghyuk sneered, apparently catching onto Youngbin's sentiment before Chanhee could comprehend there was one.
"But what'd you think of it?" Jaeyoon asked as he nudged Sanghyuk. "We're split between 'Apple-Bin' and 'Gochujangie'."
Chanhee blinked and brought his gaze to Youngbin.
His hair was still damp and dripping, clear and red-weary water staining his towel's starch fabric, but it shone brilliantly underneath the saloon's lights. Like a declaration of summer, a grand gesture of the heat and passion that blazed within Youngbin.
Chanhee blinked again and parted his lips.
"Neither."
The confusion that colored Youngbin's expression was almost comedic, almost like he had been expecting Chanhee to actually bite the bait held out to him.
"I'll call him," Chanhee continued, unable to bite the smile off his lips as he spoke, "'Clown'."
As was expected, the nickname stuck, and Chanhee's smile didn't leave his face once for the rest of their appointment.
(2.5)
Chanhee, being the unwitting idiot that he was, forgot to close the curtains before leaving, and he found himself seeking refuge on the couch yet again.
"Too hot?" Youngbin asked as he sat beside Chanhee's propped feet.
"Room invaded?" Chanhee asked without opening his eyes.
"I'm tempted to get my own room again," Youngbin confirmed with a sigh.
Chanhee peered down at Youngbin.
His figure was hunched over, elbows braced on his knees, and the starch red was an inferno even in the shadowed midnight. Chanhee was almost impressed.
"Hyung," Chanhee said.
Youngbin instantly whipped his head up, eyes wide and imploring.
Chanhee beckoned him over, and he snorted when Youngbin scrambled up the couch's length to meet him.
"I just..." Chanhee said, not knowing how to end the sentence, so he led his message with action.
His hand reached toward Youngbin's hair, and Youngbin ducked his head to meet Chanhee's hesitant touch. His fingers met coarse curls, and he wasn't really surprised since the treatment wouldn't settle after a single night's use.
He pulled his hand away and met Youngbin's imploring gaze.
"I was curious," he said.
It sounded almost like an excuse to him, but judging by Youngbin's slow nod and low hum, his explanation passed with flying colors.
(3)
It was hot.
That was all Chanhee's mind could process as the director lectured him and the other members on how the scene was going to go.
"And Chani-ssi?"
Chanhee's body went rigid, alert.
"Yes?"
Chanhee was guided through an explanation separate from everyone else's; it was a chance at making an impact during his part, and all it cost was his comfort of safety because there was no telling where his sweaty palms would lead him on a slick surface like a car's door.
"Camera roll!" the director called.
The song blared from the distant speakers.
"Action!"
They went through and monitored the other members' parts, and something like trepidation filled Chanhee's gut as they neared his part. But he argued that he'd been through and done worse than jump over the door of a car, so he shook the feeling off and gathered about his wits before the camera began recording him for his part—The Part.
The song played—skipped ahead to the second chorus—and Chanhee waited for the director's go-ahead. The camera panned over to him, and he braced his hand atop the door. Upon the director's sharp "now!" he leaped from the car's floor and kicked his legs out.
The world drifted to a slow around him, probably to the same effect that the editors would do to his scene. But, honest to God, all Chanhee could focus on that moment was not falling flat on his ass.
With the summer breeze brushing against him and the solid weight of his members' presence surrounding him, Chanhee stared resolutely into the camera lens and landed on both of his feet.
There was a split-second where he was stunned by his own successful stunt, but he quickly got his wits about him and lip-synced his part.
When the director cut the recording, the other members were eager to monitor his performance. Chanhee was still reeling from the moment, and Youngbin offered him a wordless pat on the shoulder as they watched the scene on the screen.
Youngbin was quick to sing him praises, but Chanhee immediately asked for a retake because he could see his own surprise shining in the recorded sunlight, and that simply wouldn't do.
The second take was much better, much smoother, and though the world did not slow down for Chanhee, he also didn't focus too much on it. That was what got the best results, anyway: effortless perfection.
They continued the outdoor shooting, and Chanhee thought he had been the one suffering, but the red droplets that ran down Youngbin's temples were all too telling of who the heat was actually getting to.
Luckily, they were able to wrap up their final clips without much incident and were escorted to the indoor set. As the directors guided them through how the scene would play out, Chanhee began to doubt if some of the members would be able to handle it; it wasn't exactly a secret that they startled easily.
When Chanhee expressed his concerns to Taeyang, a sly smile on his lips, he merely rolled his eyes and said, "Just focus on yourself, hotshot."
"I think we should worry about Hwiyoung keeping a straight face," Sanghyuk spoke up. "He's the main character of this scene, so he's bound to crack up."
"You could say the same about Youngbin-hyung," Taeyang said with a knowing smile.
"As long as you guys don't try anything funny, I'll be fine," Youngbin said.
"Ignoring that parts of the set blow up, this entire situation is hysterical," Sanghyuck said.
"Just don't get scared or laugh," Chanhee said as he pointed the barrel of his gun toward Sanghyuk. "Or else I'll have to punish you."
Sanghyuk didn't hesitate to pull his own gun out, knuckles knocking against Chanhee's in his haste.
"I could say the same about you, Kang Chanhee-ssi."
Chanhee furrowed his brow as he pulled his hand away, rubbing his throbbing knuckles.
Before he could get in a proper retort, the director told them to get in their positions.
The other members were obnoxious as they filmed their entrance and were unbearable as they monitored the scene. Chanhee pardoned them, however, because if he vowed to get revenge, they would probably never finish filming.
As they monitored the scene Chanhee found himself intrigued by, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Youngbin could hold his own against Jaeyoon and Seokwoo's taunting dialogue and Juho's quiet in-between; perfectly content with being near the edge, hand committed to having a steady grasp on the gas-heavy gun.
And then came the scene Chanhee dreaded: the shoot-out.
They all laughed when Youngkyun's bouquet fell apart, and his smile stayed even as he picked up the fallen flowers for the retake.
And then the shoot-out actually happened, and Chanhee was ashamed to admit that Sanghyuk wasn't the only one ducking away from the explosions. But it wasn't the end of the world because the director got plenty of good footage from the other members, so Chanhee released a sigh of relief as he watched the orchestrated chaos erupt on the monitor.
"You talked awfully big," Seokwoo teased as he nudged Chanhee.
"So did Dawon-hyung," he muttered because he couldn't really defend himself.
Explosions were scary, and he wasn't ready to swallow his pride to admit that just yet. Maybe in a few weeks—when the music video was edited and released to the public.
After they changed and refreshed themselves for the choreography, Chanhee stood in the studio's far corners to watch the staff prepare the next set dazedly. He wasn't really concentrating on the details—just admiring where he would be dancing with a casual eye.
"Enjoying yourself?" Youngbin asked as he approached Chanhee.
"I'm tired," Chanhee said.
The heat from the earlier shoot had, admittedly, drained him, and the excitement that naturally came with things exploding came and went.
Youngbin seemed to understand his sentiment and leaned against the wall near him.
"Too hot?" Youngbin asked, voice soft, as he offered Chanhee his hand-held fan.
Chanhee pushed the fan back toward him, eyes intent on the liquid red that stained his temple.
"'m fine," he muttered as he lurched off the wall, beckoned over by the director's call.
(3.5)
Taeyang suggested he opened the windows that night, and Chanhee was inclined to agree; soon after getting out the shower, Chanhee found himself steaming up in his bedroom, his pajamas clingy and suffocating.
"Then this entire place'll be crawling with bugs!" Youngkyun argued.
"Well, I'd imagine it's better than sweating while laying still," Jaeyoon rebutted.
"Just go to the other dorm, then," Taeyang said with a sigh.
Chanhee opened his mouth to argue why that wouldn't be a good idea because it was past midnight and that he didn't know the directions, but he stopped short when he noticed Inseong and Sanghyuk peering their heads through the doorway.
"Hey," he said. "Why do you two keep coming here?"
"What, it's a crime to visit now?" Inseong said, voice a touch haughty, as he finally stepped into the room. "And I wouldn't recommend you visit the other dorm right now."
"Why not?" Youngkyun asked, voice suspicious.
"Something's in the water over there. Anyways," Sanghyuk said before the implication could settle into Chanhee's steamed mind, "I'd imagine the living room's free, but you might have some company."
Chanhee stared at Sanghyuk for a moment—his mind working overtime as it tried to comprehend the meaning behind his words—before realization dawned on him.
He turned away, the summer heat drawing his cheeks flush.
"Whatever."
He stormed out the room with his members' laughter echoing behind him.
As he entered the living room, he found Youngbin already curled up on the couch, eyes closed and breathing deep and steady.
He approached the couch and loomed over Youngbin's sleeping figure, eyes studying the shadowed slopes and crevices of his peaceful face.
The shrill, delighted laughter that spilled from his room turned mute, the A/C stuttered to an abrupt pause, and the moonlight gently waxed itself across Youngbin's face.
Chanhee's hand reached toward Youngbin's hair, fingers grazing the split ends, and combed through the red curls with an almost impulsive desire.
Youngbin moaned something low, and Chanhee hastily pulled away.
Even as Youngbin awoke with closed eyes and a beckoning hand, even as he curled into Youngbin's loose embrace, Chanhee found himself unable to slow his rapid heartbeat.
(4)
There was a slight breeze during the ride, and Chanhee sacrificed his usual nap to lower the window and allow the morning air filter through the van. He looked up the weather the night before and knew that it was going to be a hot one, so he reveled in the crisp morning air before the heat threatened to boil his blood.
Stepping out onto the grassland, Chanhee trailed his fingers against the tall grass blades and flinched away when they tickled him. He turned back toward his members, various degrees of lucidity, and looked back toward the early afternoon sky. Vivid and bright in its appearance, so unlike what Chanhee had gazed at mere hours ago.
"Chani-ssi?"
He was the first one up for the photo shoot, and he was grateful for it. He knew that if he were one of the last members, no amount of makeup would be able to hide his flushed cheeks. And though the group photos remained after, that was a distant concern for future Chanhee. For now, he was just focused on not squinting too much—damned sun.
His fingers glided against the flowing sheets, tangling themselves within the gentle material, and he drifted his gaze to the faded image of the sun that shone through. A dazzling spectacle that threatened to blind him even as he hid behind a starch sheet, so brilliant and blazing—an inferno in the sky.
The photographer guided his gaze back to the camera, and Chanhee stared into the lens with blotchy vision.
When his shoot was over, he watched Youngbin's from a distance. Not really because he was interested, though a bit envious of the swing, but because there was only so much a person could do while out in the middle of a grassland. Sighing into a hand-fan seemed to be the only entertainment offered on set, and he wasn't too willing to put up with whatever shenanigans the other members had going on, so he crouched low to the grassy bed of the green sea and watched the distant inferno sway gently with his swing.
The photographer beckoned him over once again, and Chanhee was greeted by Jaeyoon and Taeyang making themselves acquainted with the ground.
"Is it alright if our clothes get dirty?" he asked as his eyes stayed resolute on the dirt patch Taeyang was dangerously close to putting his pantleg in.
"Just try to keep your bodies on the sheet, and you'll be fine."
As Chanhee settled onto the empty space provided, he kicked Taeyang's leg onto the sheet and was promptly kicked back.
The shoot went smoothly, sans the violent pinches that Jaeyoon kept giving him when he laid in the front, but he delivered his justice when he knocked Jaeyoon back onto the sheet when they were dismissed.
There was a short break allotted, something Chanhee reveled in because even a brief tease and prod like Jaeyoon and Taeyang's was enough to get his palms clammy. Chanhee got a weird look from Youngkyun as he blew the fan's crisp air onto his hands, but he didn't honor him with his acknowledgment; the sun was brutal with its gaze, and Chanhee refused to believe he was the only affected one.
His belief held strong and was proven come the full group's shoot; Seokwoo bore the brunt of the sun's gaze in his suit, and Chanhee counted his blessings.
And then came the indoor photoshoot.
There was nothing wrong with it, honestly. Being able to duck away from the sun's oppressive heat was something Chanhee was always grateful for, and the concept itself was nice and relaxed, perfectly doable if a little rougher in attitude.
But that was the thing: The concept was nice. Like, really nice.
Chanhee could not take his eyes off of Youngbin.
It wasn't like he was doing something outlandish. He was just following the photographer's guidance and adding his own flair that came with years of experience.
But here, compared to the open and free grassland, Youngbin seemed to dominate the studio's enclosed space. Grand in his subtle movements and expressions, he enraptured his audience of one, and Chanhee hastily made himself busy with his fan when Youngbin happened to glance his way.
Despite being sheltered from its gaze, the sun burned even hotter upon Chanhee's skin.
When it came time for his solo shoot, he was sure he was going to melt under the heated gaze of the studio lights, of the quiet knowledge that something far more dangerous than heat exhaustion lay beneath his skin.
Sanghyuk seemed to be aware of his situation come their trio shoot, and all Chanhee could do was accept the knowing glances he sent up from his lap. How Sanghyuk had found out before Chanhee was even ready to admit it to himself, he didn't want to know. Coming to terms with how obvious he was being without even realizing what he was obvious about spoke volumes of his character: painfully obtuse.
Before he could get to the meat of that statement, of that unfortunate truth, the group was gathered for the final shoot.
"Dawon, get your knee out of my face," Chanhee heard Inseong complain.
Chanhee turned toward the commotion just in time to see Sanghyuk spread his legs further, drive Inseong further into the couch's armrest.
"Sorry, what was that?" Sanghyuk said, hand cupped around the crest of his ear and mock innocence plastered across his face.
Juho reached behind himself and smacked Sanghyuk's calf.
"Okay, children!" Chanhee shouted before Sanghyuk's glare could fully form, clapping his hands together. "Whoever gets into another fight is gonna buy me a meal!"
"Yes, hyung-nim!" Youngbin chirped from behind him, and Chanhee didn't have to look to know he was smiling. Which did nothing to snuff out the ever-growing inferno underneath Chanhee's skin.
The rest of the photoshoot went by peacefully because Chanhee's members were stingy, and Chanhee reveled in the moment he could tug off his sweat-drenched shirt.
"Youngbin-hyung, huh?" was all Sanghyuk had to say as he passed him by, and all Chanhee could do was seethe.
(4.5)
Chanhee had his head in the fridge for approximately twenty minutes before getting caught.
"You're gonna make the food go spoiled!" Taeyang scolded.
He tugged Chanhee back by the neck of his shirt and shut the fridge resolutely. He fixed Chanhee with a stern glare, and Chanhee wasn't the least bit intimidated. The shadows masked whatever annoyed front Taeyang put up, and even his tone held nothing more than exasperation; the heat meant to scold Chanhee merely broiled beneath his skin, ignored and unwanted—deeply unwanted.
"It's hot," Chanhee whined.
"Go take a cold shower or something," Taeyang said. "Just because the air conditioner's broken doesn't mean you can live in the fridge."
"Taeyang and Hwiyoung have a fan in their room," Jaeyoon announced as he made his way into the kitchen for a glass of water. "Go sleep with them if you don't wanna sweat your balls off."
"Hey, hey!" Youngkyun said haughtily, poking his head out from around the hallway corner. "Don't tell him that! He's gonna kick me out of my own bed!"
"Don't tempt me," Chanhee said. "And I'm just gonna sleep on the couch again."
"Youngbin-hyung won't be able to join you until later," Jaeyoon teased with a grin.
Youngbin stayed late at the company for some last-minute tuning to the choreography, and nobody really expected him back until the wee hours of the morning.
But that wasn't the point.
"I wasn't expecting him to," Chanhee hissed, and try as he might, he couldn't fight against the heat that licked at the shells of his ears.
His members laughed, and he shooed them back into their rooms with the summer heat overtaking his flushed face.
Hours later, in the deep dredges of sleep, Chanhee felt a familiar warmth embrace him, and he tugged it closer.
(5)
They had said it before, years ago, back when they were younger and dumber than they could ever hope to be now, but it still held true to this day: Seeing their hard work reflected back at them with foggy mirrors brought a sense of pride. And though Chanhee couldn't quite catch his breath and his shirt may have been plastered to his skin, it was still satisfying—it still reeled in that comforting feeling of "hey, we did it".
Chanhee took a sweeping glance around the practice room and released a weary laugh when he found that half of his members had wiped out.
He approached Juho, who lay closest to him, and prodded his sprawled arm with his sneaker's toe.
"Hey," he said with a snicker.
"Don't 'hey' me," Juho said with a groan, lifting his arm and curling his fingers around Chanhee's leg. "I'm older than you."
"Is that why you have such little energy?"
Juho's arm fell away as he released another groan, and their members whooped and hollered around him.
"Inseong-hyung, I don't think you should be encouraging him," Taeyang said with a laugh.
"You were the first one to collapse, after all," Chanhee agreed, and his members erupted into another fit.
"Alright, alright," Youngbin said over the rising chaos. "Let's clear up the mirrors and do one last run-through before filming."
After much grumbling and grousing, they all eventually got a newspaper in their hand and began wiping down the mirrors. Youngbin claimed he saw it as a team-building exercise, but Chanhee knew it was just a tedious chore they needed to do to see all of their flaws because there were only so many details you could pick out in a fogged-up reflection. Chanhee was just glad that they had so many members—a rare moment of appreciation for the sheer number of people jam-packed into a single room—since they tend to clean up quick.
"Okay!" Youngbin shouted, directing everyone to their positions. "I'll be watching you guys from the back, so just perform like you always have."
A chorus of "okay"s rang out through the room, and Chanhee wiped a trailing bead of sweat from his forehead right before the beginning chords echoed around him.
It was embedded into his muscles, a natural instinct to follow along to the sickeningly familiar beat with sharp, practiced moves.
It was a standard run-through, nothing Chanhee hadn't already been through, but his gaze wandered from his reflection as he danced the center, and the lyrics he had been mouthing stuttered from his attention when he met Youngbin's eyes.
It was normal. Youngbin always monitored their individual parts closely to make sure they were in sync with the rest of the group. Chanhee was the center, the core of the ripple effect he knew was surrounding him, and yet the stomp of rubber soles on a wooden floor fell on deaf ears as Chanhee maintained eye contact with Youngbin. Like a spell that he'd been utterly bewitched by, transfixed on the deep, molten eyes that watched his every move.
And then Chanhee was no longer the center, and Youngbin's eyes moved on to Sanghyuk.
When Inseong's final note reverberated against Chanhee's blank mind, he heard more than saw his members collapse to the floor, and he was quick to follow, his legs unable to hold his trembling body any longer.
"I need to change clothes," Jaeyoon groaned.
"I need a shower," Seokwoo replied.
"Okay," Youngbin said as he wandered to the front of the room. "Let's take a quick break to make ourselves pretty for the camera, and then, seriously, we need to film this."
The members gave their lackluster replies as they crawled their way to the door, and Chanhee didn't follow them. He stayed rooted to the floor, sweat-slick back becoming one with the floorboards, and stared up at the blinding overhead lights in an attempt to ignore the inferno that crept up on him with sneaker-light footsteps.
Youngbin's face peered down at him, and the lights crested around his head like a halo. How typical.
"Chani?" he called, tone curious if a little concerned because Chanhee imagined he looked as wilted as he felt. "You're not gonna change?"
Chanhee suddenly realized how parched he was—like he'd been wandering the desert for eons and finally came across an elusive oasis.
"In a bit," he croaked. "I just—I wanted to rest."
Youngbin hummed something sympathetic before joining him on the floor. He didn't lay down, merely crossed his legs and stared down at Chanhee with that deep, molten gaze of his.
It sent shivers down Chanhee's spine.
"That's a good color on you," Youngbin said, voice soft, as his hand reached out toward Chanhee's head and his fingers combed through his sweaty, matted bangs.
He pulled away and stared down at his palm.
"Should've thought that through," he said with a laugh.
"Has the bleach gotten to your brain?" Chanhee retorted, voice short of disbelieving.
Youngbin only laughed harder, and Chanhee didn't think it was that funny, but he didn't feel like pointing that out. It would only cost him the breath he had lost while staring up at Youngbin's gleeful, carefree expression.
"But, seriously," Youngbin said once he'd calmed down, wiping his palm on his jeans, "we should at least change."
Chanhee groaned but sat up all the same. He could feel the sweat pooling at the small of his back, and a quick backward glance showed the tell-tale signs of his labor imprinted onto the floorboards.
Chanhee turned back toward Youngbin, ready to ask if he had any spare clothes he could borrow, and stopped short when he noticed a trail of liquid red run down his temple.
Youngbin blinked owlishly at Chanhee as he leaned in closer, hand braced near Youngbin's knee, as he brought a curled finger up to his temple and caught the red precipitation. He pulled his hand away and presented the wavering droplet between his and Youngbin's faces.
"It was gonna land on your shirt," Chanhee whispered, and he was certain that was an excuse. Because as he sat there, face centimeters from Youngbin's, he couldn't help but study the finer details: the acne scars, the pout of his parted lips, the delicate flutter of his eyelashes.
"Ah," Youngbin exclaimed, voice soft, breath puffing against Chanhee's face. "Thanks."
They exited the practice room to shower and change, and as they prepared for the dance practice filming, they never spoke of the moment, hardly met each other's gazes in the mirror.
(5.5)
"Gather up, everyone!"
They filed into the living room obediently and sat on the floor in a semi-circle, knees and shoulders pressed together with close comfort. Chanhee didn't have any complaints because the A/C was finally fixed and, if he focused hard enough on Inseong's knee digging into his thigh, he could meet Youngbin's gaze without faltering away.
"We have our first stage tomorrow," Youngbin began, not delaying the meeting any longer because he knew they needed whatever sleep they could get. "I know I say this every time, but I'm incredibly proud to see how much you guys have prepared and grown through this album's production. We were all excited to try a new concept, and to see how we executed it without a hitch makes me believe we can do anything as long as we're together.
"But enough about that," Youngbin continued. "Now's the time to get whatever troubles and worries you have off your chest so that we can all go through this promotion without any problems."
Chanhee saw movement from the corner of his eye, and he blinked in surprise when he realized that Sanghyuk had risen his hand.
Youngbin's expression reflected his confusion.
"Dawon?"
"Can I officially become Jaeyoon-hyung's roommate now or—"
"Hey, hey!" Inseong said haughtily, shifting his position to face Sanghyuk head-on, his knee digging further into Chanhee's thigh. "Don't waste everyone's time with a question like that!"
"You're just jealous you didn't think to ask first," Sanghyuk retorted.
"Um," Juho spoke up, hand raised hesitantly. "I'm confused. I thought Youngbin-hyung was still Jaeyoon-hyung's roommate?"
The living room erupted. Suddenly, everyone had something to say, and Taeyang started laughing so hard he was sobbing, and Chanhee couldn't make anyone's words out.
"All of you, shut up!" Chanhee roared, which just got everyone rolling again.
Hours later, the living room was cleared, everyone had bid their goodnights, and Chanhee met Youngbin's imploring gaze.
He turned away and entered his room, earning himself a fitful rest with the summer heat's missing embrace.
(+1)
When the cameras cut, Chanhee caught a flake of confetti that fluttered in front of him and observed the sheen it gave off under the stage lights. His members gasped for breath in the faraway background of his in-ears, and he released and watched the confetti flutter to the glossy floor when Youngbin gathered them up for their final farewells.
As they departed from the stage, something like surreality settled into Chanhee. Maybe it was because it was the first time they were performing without a live audience there to show their support, but Chanhee felt disconnected from their stage—like it hadn't occurred at all, a distant, far away dream that'd yet to imprint its impact onto Chanhee.
But as they filed into their waiting room, hastily gathering about for their monitoring, the adrenaline kicked in and signaled that simple acknowledgment.
Ah. This was the beginning.
Patting off his sweat and untangling the cords of his in-ears, Chanhee felt a sense of accomplishment. It was self-fulfilling, being satisfied with his own performance, but Chanhee couldn't help but be thrilled to show more—more of his own competence and to experience more of that simple thrill of performing on stage. Maybe not in front of a live audience, sure, but that just made the praise ever-richer, something gained and spread even without that personal interaction.
"Chani?"
Chanhee blinked back into reality and realized that he was still stood in front of the television, their stage long since aired and over.
He turned toward Seokwoo.
"What?" he said, unperturbed by the poorly disguised concern Seokwoo showed.
Seokwoo parted his lips, closed them, flicked his gaze to something distant and pointedly behind Chanhee, before opening his mouth again.
"I think...Youngbin-hyung wants to see you."
That wasn't what he wanted to say. Chanhee knew that, but he disregarded that knowledge and turned around on his heel dutifully.
Youngbin's eyes were soft on him as he approached, and Chanhee wasn't sure he liked that. It made the inferno under his skin flare to life, and he really couldn't afford to sweat off any more makeup.
"Hyung?" he asked, making sure his face was carefully blank.
He wasn't sure how well of a job he was doing on that, but Youngbin's gaze didn't lose its softness, so he counted it as a success.
"Follow me real quick," Youngbin said, slipping through the propped open door before Chanhee could gather his bearings.
They walked silently through the halls, passing by unconcerned artists and hustling staff members without a second glance.
Somewhere around the third turn of a corner, Chanhee became concerned. Because had Youngbin deceived him with that gentle look in his eye and was about to give him the lecture of a lifetime? Had he somehow royally screwed up their first-ever stage of Summer Breeze? But that was impossible because he had done it just like he had practiced it—the proof was there, ready to be edited and broadcasted to the general masses.
Despite that irrefutable logic, when Youngbin finally stopped and turned toward him, Chanhee found that the summer heat had crept its way underneath his skin and set his nerves alight.
"Now, I know what you're thinking," Youngbin began with a fond laugh, "and, no, I didn't bring you out here to scold you."
Relief flooded Chanhee's lungs and blew past his parted lips.
In hindsight, he knew it didn't make sense. Not because his performance was flawless—which it never was because he could always improve upon himself—but because Youngbin had guided them to the entrance lobby. A place that wasn't necessarily populated, but was wide and open and could easily be intruded upon had Youngbin decided to chastise Chanhee then and there.
"Then"—Chanhee made a vague gesture with his hands, desperate to air the clamminess out of them—"why are we here?"
Youngbin tilted his head curiously, but his expression held wisdom that Chanhee was far too ignorant of.
"Well, since you didn't bring it up during our meeting, I figured I should address it with you privately," Youngbin said. "Lately, we've taken to sleeping on the couch together. You gave the excuse of your room being too hot, and I took advantage of my room being invaded to cuddle with you."
"You're not exactly subtle, hyung," Chanhee said despite the ever-growing inferno that scalded his skin.
"Fair. But I have to admit, I never thought you would...go along with it. So it was more like a joke at first, and then it just kept happening, and, suddenly, it became comfortable. To the point that I was looking forward to it, you know?"
Chanhee knew. The need to be near and close had sparked a wildfire within him, and it was terrifying. That yearning of something he had—for so long—loathed was alien and familiar all the same. Because Youngbin wasn't one to change his attack tactic, yet Chanhee had fallen for his trap, which was the most shocking thing of the whole ordeal: Chanhee had grown to love Youngbin's touch.
Chanhee took that silent confession of his, buried it deep within his blazing chest, and hummed noncommittally.
"So," Youngbin continued, nonplussed by Chanhee's unenthusiastic response, "I was wondering if you would be okay just sharing your bed since it's, honestly, more comfortable than the couch."
Chanhee knew he was gaping, could feel his stuttered breath puff past his parted lips, but he couldn't find it in himself to tighten his jaw and give a proper response. Because wouldn't sharing a bed make whatever was going on between them official? That was how it started with Inseong and Jaeyoon—Sanghyuk eventually shoehorning himself into the situation—and Chanhee wasn't too sure he was ready for that. The implications were too burdensome, and the acknowledgment the other members were sure to give would only weigh him further down.
But, as Chanhee continued to stare at Youngbin—open, honest Youngbin—who stared back at him with that gentle and soft gaze of his, he realized he didn't need to overthink things.
After all, they were only sharing a bed.
"Sure," he said with a shrug, and Youngbin held the sun in his smile.
(+1.5)
Chanhee expected it to be awkward, but they were both too exhausted to bring petty tension to something so achingly familiar.
So, without prior discussion, Youngbin fell onto Chanhee's bed, pressed his back to the wall, and tugged Chanhee against his chest. Chanhee complied and fell lax in Youngbin's arms, fully embracing the summer warmth that itched and buzzed underneath his skin.
The moonlight cast its glow across the room because Chanhee had forgotten to close the curtains, and Chanhee brought his hand up to eclipse Youngbin's tattoo, just shy of imprinting his touch upon Youngbin's collarbone.
"Go to sleep, Chanhee-ah," Youngbin murmured because Chanhee had, apparently, not been careful enough with his hovering touch.
Chanhee lowered his hand to Youngbin's waist, gliding above the curve for a brief moment, before snaking his arm toward Youngbin's back and clenching the material of Youngbin's shirt.
"'s hot," Chanhee muttered, the tell-tale signs of precipitation building up underneath his arms.
"You'll live," Youngbin whispered before his breathing deepened and slowed, his chest pushing and pulling away from Chanhee's.
Chanhee wasn't too sure he would because the inferno only seemed to consume more of his body the longer his eyelashes fluttered against Youngbin's. But his limbs were only growing heavier with each passing moment, and all he could do was surrender to the summer heat and fall into a deep, deep slumber.