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Yangyang doesn’t understand how it has taken him so long to see it .
Now that he’s had his revelation, his third eye has opened or whatever, everything suddenly makes sense. Maybe it was the change of dorms that showed him the truth, maybe it was the alone time he’s been spending with his new fish that’s got him thinking, maybe it was simply the sweltering heat of the last few days that has messed with his brain cells.
It’s now become so obvious that he wants to talk about it with everyone, like a secret he can’t wait to spill but knows he shouldn’t.
Other times, however, he wishes he hadn’t noticed because it gets a bit too much.
They are too much. Too in sync, too intimate, too cheesy and too frustrating.
Kun and Ten are clearly made for each other, but nobody around Yangyang seems to be aware of it.
in sync
His first real epiphany had come to him in the practice room, while they were trying to learn their new choreo despite being down three members. They looked ridiculous as four, trying to remember who would be next to them in the actual formation and how to move in order not to collide with each other. Yangyang had already archived the rehearsal session in his head as a big useless failure, and he could tell from the empty stare and massive amount of yawning that so had Xiaojun, and after thirty minutes of half-assed dancing they had both begged for a break, collapsing down on the floor and never getting back up.
Kun hadn’t though, of course. He would never willingly waste anyone’s time, and if their instructor had been told to teach them for the next two and a half hours, so be it. Yangyang could tell Kun himself was struggling too, constantly asking to repeat moves and transitions, double checking to make sure what he was doing was correct, eyes focused on the mirror in front of him as the sweat trickled down his forehead.
Ten had been there too, by his side but he might as well have been in a completely different practice room. As always he had memorized the dance after a few tries and at that point he was just casually following along with the music, not really putting any energy behind his movements. Yangyang had found himself wondering why Ten was even there, why he hadn’t just made up any excuse to leave and go back to the dorm to play with the cats or water his plants or meditate or whatever weird and hip hobby he had been into at the time.
He even looked annoyed, Yangyang had seen him snort and roll his eyes after Kun had asked for the fifth time if his starting placement for the dance break was correct. Yet there he was, going through the same set of motions for the umpteenth time, repeating a sequence he could probably do in his sleep, and never once asking for a break.
Yangyang had felt a bit guilty watching the two eldest practice while Xiaojun and him lazed around, but it really wasn’t his fault the company had insisted on them starting comeback preparations before the rest of the group was back from overseas. He strongly believed that there was no point in rehearsing a seven-person choreo as four, and no amount of sweat from his ge s could change his mind.
He hadn’t been that cruel to actually leave the room and go back to the dorm though, and since his phone battery had died a while ago and Xiaojun had passed out in a very Bella-like pose next to him, all he had left to do was look at Kun and Ten dance.
They are so different , Yangyang had observed. Ten was obviously the one who knew the moves best, and yet Kun had kept correcting him because he wasn’t “being serious enough” about rehearsing. Ten was just like a cat, he could be fast and precise when he needed to but his true nature was lazy and cautious. Nobody ever scolded him for lacking energy during practice because they knew what he was capable of on stage. He would never let them down.
Kun would also never let them down. He was their leader for a reason and they all felt that they could trust him with their lives. He was confident too, and he shined on stage, but in order to feel and look confident he worked hard, really hard. Like exponentially harder than all of them. He danced and sang and worked out and dieted the most of all of them, and sometimes Yangyang felt bad because nobody was there to take care of him while he looked after the six of them day and night.
Except he did have someone who took care of him.
Ten was right there next to him, keeping up his annoyed whatever act but volunteering to cover the other members’ parts so that Kun could memorize their movements too. He was there to silently observe Kun’s step sequence in the mirror and nod at him once he had finally got it down correctly. Yangyang could swear Ten had even smiled, scrunchy nose and twinky eyes, the first time they had managed to go through the whole song without having to pause.
And Kun had just kept dancing, seemingly oblivious to this slight change in Ten’s mood, he had kept grumbling at him when his movements got too imprecise and rough, and yet he had never called for Yangyang or Xiaojun to join them again.
Kun hadn’t expected them to put any effort in this rehearsal, Yangyang had realized. He was almost using it as a solo practice session, except Ten was there too. Apparently Ten was expected to put effort into it, though, from the stern tone in which Kun had called his name every time he slacked off. It had been a relief to realize that Kun did have someone to rely on after all.
The more Yangyang had looked, the more the two of them had seemed to be in their own world. Sure, the instructor was there with them but he was mostly just hitting repeat on the music player over and over while Kun and Ten bickered about which parts needed more rehearsing. And in the end, their final run through of the song had left Yangyang speechless. Ten had put in the correct amount of energy this time, and Kun hadn’t gotten a single step wrong. Not only that, but he had moved as if all seven of them had been there, without a hint of confusion or doubt. Ten and him had danced perfectly in sync, barely glancing at each other as they shifted from one side of the room to the other.
It had reminded Yangyang of countless other practice sessions where the two of them hadn’t even acknowledged each other, not a word or a nod but always so coordinated that they had looked like a single body. They had all as a group gotten used to throwing quick looks at each other while changing positions to make sure the formation was alright and they weren’t stepping on anyone’s feet, and yet Ten and Kun never seemed to do that with each other. They had some kind of sixth sense that always made them aware of the other’s position, and Yangyang would love to call it a superpower, but he knows it’s just something that comes with closeness in time.
And then that had led him to thinking about how he had always subconsciously thought of the two of them as a team.
Well, the seven of them were a team too, but it felt more like a family. Ten and Kun were a unit, a package deal, a duo, a couple .
intimate
Moving to the new dorms had been so damn exciting for all of them. The idea of having single rooms to decorate however they wanted, with a door to close whenever they wanted and so much free space had filled all of them with joy. Yangyang had been a tiny bit worried about being left alone with the elderly, though, afraid they’d spend all of their time arguing and aggressively cleaning and tidying up every square inch of the new place.
He hadn’t expected to find them huddled on the couch together on their first day there, looking up tutorials on how to dry flowers and online shopping for matching mood lights while absent-mindedly petting the cats. Yangyang had felt a bit excluded, and that’s how he had ended up down a youtube spiral of aquarium vlogs. He had only meant to buy one, but the rush of adrenaline had gotten to him and now he had four more.
The truth is Kun and Ten didn’t really argue behind closed doors. They barely even interacted, both choosing to spend their free time on their separate activities and side projects, and when they were home together it was either to eat or sleep.
It was the eating and sleeping that had brought forward new revelations for Yangyang. They always seemed to be in each other’s thoughts in some capacity. Their sixth sense wasn’t limited to knowing each other’s location, it seemed to include some sort of mood and needs indicator as well.
It was the care Kun took when ordering food for himself, making sure to always get one extra drink or something sweet to leave in the fridge just in case . It was the way the dorm aunty would magically show up with ingredients for Ten’s favorite dishes after he’d had a tough day. It was the respectful silence in the dorm after 3 am, even when the lights in Kun’s room stayed on until way past that. And in return, it was the way Kun’s room always seemed to be tidy and devoid of cat toys, with new dried flowers appearing in his wine-bottle-turned-vase every few days. The tacit you cooked, I’ll clean agreement they’d started years ago, longer than Yangyang had even known them. Their constantly unlocked doors to allow the cats freedom of movement. The nights Ten spent in Kun’s bed because Louis and Leon seemed to like it better, dozing off while Kun sat at his desk with his music production software open and headphones on.
Yangyang is really thankful for his fish. He would feel seriously lonely without them sometimes .
cheesy
When they did fight, their bickering was never about serious matters, and they all knew it. It was more of a pastime for the two of them, falling into well rehearsed roles that never failed to entertain the occasional audience. Ten would tease him over something meaningless, Kun would try to tease back but would ultimately fail, Ten would get even more ammo for his jabs and Kun would end it by rolling his eyes and retreating while muttering curses under his breath.
It was a lot of fun to witness, and Yangyang much preferred it to when the two of them got serious . He blamed their gross amount of emotions and tendency to overshare their feelings on their old age, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t turn out like them one day.
When the seven of them are finally reunited after months, they go out to celebrate, and it’s great until Kun remembers he’s their leader and launches himself in a tear jerking speech about their family bond. Yangyang is halfway between moved and nauseous, but the latter wins after Kun passes the five minute mark without showing signs of stopping. Sure, they’ve all missed each other, but this is getting lame. There’s only so much to say about how they all prefer being together to being split in different countries for months.
Yangyang turns to his side to make sure that everyone else is on the same page and maybe it’s finally okay for him to interrupt Kun with some joke, but what he sees horrifies him.
Ten, who Yangyang has only seen cry twice since meeting him, is teary eyed. Not just that, but he’s also staring at Kun with a smile so fond and lovesick that it makes Yangyang gag. And the worst part is that when their oldest seems to be done talking, Ten stands up and continues the speech, and this time it’s Kun’s turn to gaze at him with tenderness and pride.
That’s when Yangyang decides Sicheng is not allowed to leave them ever again. Because there’s no other explanation for this, they all missed him so much that they’ve gone slightly crazy in the months without him. Everyone knows Sicheng holds that sort of power. As long as he stays with them, Yangyang will never have to hear Ten tell him how much he loves him just like a son while he wistfully pats his hair. Just the memory of that moment sends chills down his spine.
Kun and Ten are old, and they’re full of gross feelings for their members, and for each other, Yangyang suspects. It’s cheesy and it’s so. freaking. cringe.
frustrating
But the worst of Yangyang’s suffering comes from the realization that Ten and Kun have no idea what’s going on between them. They can’t see how much their lives would improve if they tried talking to each other. They don’t acknowledge how much they do for each other and how that probably causes them to have lame unspoken feelings of gratefulness for each other. The gratefulness then turns to guilt, Yangyang assumes, because they don’t understand they’re helping each other in return.
The next time they have one of their fake arguments, Yangyang pays extra attention to any subtle signs he might have missed. He watches and sees the way Ten’s eyes never leave Kun’s face, checking all of his expressions. He’s making sure he isn’t pushing it too far. Kun is trying to play it cool as always, laughing with them even though he looks exhausted. The roast session ends unusually early when Ten gets distracted by Louis and Leon playfighting in a corner and loses interest in his human housemates. Kun leaves the room to go work on whatever new track he’s producing, and Yangyang is about ready to retreat to his own space as well (it’s almost feeding time for his fish babies) when he spots Ten picking up the cats and silently following Kun.
He’s going to go and make sure Kun is not actually mad or something as equally concerned and caring, Yangyang guesses. He must do something to let them know they’re acting like an old married couple. He doesn’t even know why it’s personally so frustrating to him to watch the two of them dance around each other. Maybe as their now only housemate he’s gotten too involved. It’s not like they would be any less annoying if they actually started… talking about their feelings? dating? making out on their shared couch?
Each alternative sounds more horrifying than the last, so Yangyang decides to do nothing.
As it turns out, the two elderly didn’t need his help after all, they just needed a few more months.
Yangyang comes home one night from hanging out with Renjun to find the two of them passed out on top of each other on the couch, and it wouldn’t be an unusual sight if it wasn’t for their attire (both naked except for their underwear), the fact that it’s winter and the rest of their clothes are messily thrown around the room. Neither of them would leave the room in such a state under normal conditions.
Yangyang might be young, but he isn’t that inexperienced. He understands what went down. He silently sneaks back to his room while fighting the urge to take a proof shot for the group chat, God, they would all love it.
He can’t be sure Kun and Ten actually talked before getting down to business, but at this point he’s sure they’ll get to it. They may not have gotten to the feelings part of their relationship yet, but at least they’re working on relieving the tension between them.
They’re old and slow, he reminds himself. A few more months, maybe a couple of years and then they’ll be ready. Yangyang can’t wait to be at their wedding. He already has the perfect pair of shoes in mind.