Work Text:
What you need to know about this thing between Johnny and Taeyong is that it’s nothing new or recent. They’ve been dancing around the idea of putting a label on it long before any of the other members had even started training, when it was just the two of them. It’s become a bit of a private joke within the rest of the group, even among some of the more tenured staff, about how impossible things were more likely to happen before the two finally talked things out.
It’s a running joke, funny in how absurd it is to see two people, who are clearly right for each other, go to great lengths to avoid what’s in front of them. Funny, because they think Johnny and Taeyong are being stubborn, letting themselves miss out on something real, putting it on hold, because they say they want to wait until they can get things right.
Except they don’t really laugh when Taeyong doesn’t leave his room for days after Johnny has been unintentionally indiscreet about his casual flings. Or when Johnny gives everyone the cold shoulder on the occasions that Taeyong forgoes dinner at the dorm, opting to hang out with Baekhyun instead.
There is no one to point fingers at, because this is how they’ve chosen to operate. This is the status quo. They insist that everything’s fine, and that it’s better this way, even if the brittleness of their smiles and their tired, tired eyes suggest otherwise. But despite how messy it can be, they have never let this thing get in the way of their work, because above all else, Johnny and Taeyong are professional.
This thing, of course, being love.
They have never denied it, and it could never have been anything else. The love Johnny and Taeyong have for each other is immeasurable and ever-present, so obvious that you would have felt like you were intruding, even when they’re just beside each other, unspeaking. Orbiting one another, just as they always have, but never quite meeting.
Back then, it was understandable why they decided against pursuing a relationship. They were so young, so eager to prove themselves, so willing to trade their youth for a place in this cutthroat industry. Everything else would have come a distant second to their dream; their love never would have stood a chance. It didn’t help that Taeyong had only just started coming into himself, and that Johnny’s heart was still tender from having to leave someone back home.
(Johnny’s ex was sweet, patient, and kind; a piece of something good in a world that was rarely fair—Johnny’s type. Taeyong had seen photos of her, of course, but he never felt it was his place to name the ugly feeling that made his throat close up each time he did. He would simply smile and listen to Johnny talk about how much he missed being home, because Johnny was Taeyong’s friend before he was his first love.
When his voice didn’t fail him, Taeyong would offer the words that he knew Johnny needed to hear. Taeyong knew all too well that even Johnny needed someone to lean on. After all, only he knew the way Johnny liked to be held as he pieced himself back together.)
Not much has changed since they were seventeen. People still depend on them to keep everything from falling apart. They’ve learned to become selfless for the good of the group. They’re still busy—busier than ever, in fact.
They still quietly draw strength from each other.
They’re still in love.
Only this time, they’re older. They’re at the top of their game. They’ve earned themselves freedom.
And like all things worth having, their love is worth fighting for, especially now that it seems they actually can, even when the people they need to fight is themselves.
*
It’s tense in Taeyong’s room. When it’s just him, the room is spacious, a generous size for a single occupant and his posse of indoor plants. He doesn’t realize how small it can seem, when years’ worth of questions, love, and hurt fill the air and threaten to burst and spill all over the floor.
Johnny is warm against his back and around his waist, a familiar presence that anchors him. But not even Johnny’s touch can quell the fear that’s making Taeyong’s heart tremble against his ribcage.
Deep in his heart of hearts, Taeyong knows they might’ve been a little stupid. The pact they made, where they promised to let each other go until the timing felt right, had started to feel pointless a year after Johnny debuted. It was well intentioned, yes, because neither of them were truly ready to enter a relationship as serious as they knew this would be.
But some nights he wonders whether they could have made it work anyway, if they just gave it a shot. Was it more cruel to do what they have done to themselves? Searching in other people a taste of what they could have found in each other instead? Fearing that they’d ruin something they want to last?
Regret is heavy and bitter on Taeyong’s tongue, but he swallows past it. It’s not the first time he has, and he doubts it’ll be the last.
“Johnny?”
Fingers halt from drawing soothing circles on the skin of Taeyong’s hips.
“What’s up?” Johnny’s words are mumbled against the base of Taeyong’s neck.
“Do you think…” Taeyong trails off, stalling to find the words he’s held back for a long while. “Do you think that maybe… maybe it’s time?”
The question requires no further elaboration. It’s all anyone has been badgering them about, ever since they bought and assembled that damn fish tank. It was a step towards the commitment and exclusivity that Taeyong privately ached for, but knew better than to seek out. Or at least, he thought it was.
“Yong,” Johnny starts, and Taeyong holds his breath in anticipation. He releases it when he realizes that the words have caught in Johnny’s throat.
In Johnny’s hesitation, Taeyong found his answer.
He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, steadily.
An idol’s job entails a fair bit of pretending. And when you’re the face and leader of a group that’s still growing, you quickly become accustomed to masking your emotions out of necessity, for your sake and others’. Taeyong knows the delicate art of keeping up a wall, just high enough so his nerves and exhaustion don’t slip past the façade, not too high that his eyes look as vacant as he sometimes feels.
He just never thought he would have to do this with Johnny. Not that he thinks Johnny can’t handle seeing him like this, because Johnny has loved and cared for him through his worst storms, patient with a devotion Taeyong sometimes feels unworthy of. He hides, because this helplessness—this bone-deep sadness—is not Johnny’s doing. It’s theirs. And the last thing he wants is for Johnny to get the wrong idea and place all the blame on himself.
He turns in his best friend’s arms, cradles his face in his hands, and their eyes meet for the first time since Johnny snuck into Taeyong’s room and held him like he’s something precious.
Taeyong smiles, even if he can already feel the corners of his mouth quivering in the wake of his heartache.
“You can say no, you know?”
Emotions flash in Johnny’s eyes—all the things he can’t quite bring himself to say, not tonight. Even with how poorly lit the room is, Taeyong can identify every single word that was left unsaid, because at one point, they were spoken through his eyes. And as much as it had hurt, he knew they made the right call, because he doesn’t know how he would have survived debuting in SuperM while being in a very new relationship with the only boy he’s ever really loved.
Still, it doesn’t mean that the hurt is any easier to bear.
It’s only when Johnny’s thumbs have started chasing away his tears that Taeyong realizes he’s crying.
And then not too long after, Johnny’s crying, too.
“I’m sorry,” he says against Taeyong’s lips. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Taeyong shakes his head before resting his forehead against Johnny’s, their noses softly brushing against each other’s.
“If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready. There’s no need to apologize for being honest.”
And Taeyong means it.
He would never force Johnny into a relationship he isn’t quite prepared for, even if it is something they know they both want. Johnny has dreamed of being an idol longer than he has—trained for it longer than he has. Taeyong would never be selfish enough to demand that he be put first, especially not when he might not be where he is now, if it weren’t for Johnny cheering him on and lifting his spirits when he’d been so sure that he wasn’t cut out for this line of work.
But Johnny scoffs wetly, because it’s just like Taeyong to comfort him even as he himself is crying. Even as Johnny is breaking both their hearts. “I’m apologizing because I know I’m hurting you.”
Taeyong smiles wryly while lifting a hand to smooth the wrinkle that formed in between Johnny’s brows. The one that appears when he’s particularly focused on nailing a move, or when he hasn’t had his morning coffee and Mark and Donghyuck are goofing around too loudly, or when Taeyong is in pain and still manages to lie through his teeth.
“I’ve hurt you, too, in case you forgot,” Taeyong murmurs.
They share a laugh, only finding humor in their circumstances and its consequences in hindsight. After a few minutes of silence, which Taeyong spends kissing the path of Johnny’s tears, Johnny speaks.
“I just haven’t felt like myself, and I don’t want to start this when I’m in this funk, and I can’t love you the way you deserve.”
Taeyong hums, running a hand through Johnny’s long brown hair. He’s noticed it, of course, the way Johnny has become more withdrawn, passing on going out with the other guys in favor of staying in. And as much as he aches to take away whatever it is that has slowed Johnny’s steps and dulled his smiles, Taeyong knows that some things really only heal with time.
“You know that doesn’t make you any less worthy of love, though, right? And you don’t need to do it alone.”
Johnny can’t help the shaky smile that forms on his lips. Moved by Taeyong’s words, he takes Taeyong’s hands in his, pressing thank you and I’m sorry through gentle kisses on each knuckle. “I know, but I want to. It’s something I need to do for myself.”
Taeyong nods, and he squeezes Johnny’s hands reassuringly, to let him know that he need not apologize, because Taeyong understands. That it doesn’t matter how long it takes for Johnny to come home to himself, or how many more years pass before they can finally turn a new chapter in their lives. They’ve already worked towards one dream together, haven’t they? So what’s another one?
He bites back a sob when a fresh wave of emotions swell in his chest and prick the back of his eyes.
“Johnny—Youngho, I love you,” he whispers into the small space between their lips.
“I love you, too,” Johnny whispers back. “I think I always will, and I think you know that.”
“I do,” he says, because he does. He thinks he might’ve known it since they were seventeen.
“Just a little longer,” Johnny promises, and he and Taeyong seal it with a kiss.
They don’t want to be a cautionary tale told through the tabloids. They don’t want to have their private lives be picked apart by people who don’t know a single ounce of truth about who they were, beyond stage names and smoke and mirrors.
They want to grow old together.
In a sleepy neighborhood, where their identities don’t precede them and their jobs don’t matter, they will find their home. They’ll invite everyone they know for dinner parties every month, treat their friends to good food and even better banter. They’ll take in strays, nourish them with boundless, unconditional love, and maybe, down the line, they’ll even start a family.
When the lights have stopped shining down on them, Taeyong wants to know that Johnny is still by his side. Never too far away to hold his outstretched hand, to lace their fingers, like they were never meant to be anywhere except intertwined with one another.
Later that night, after they’ve made love, and their bodies are as spent as their souls are from the running, the hiding, the waiting, they find sleep. In the warmth of each other’s arms, they dream of a time that they hope will soon come.