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Since its release, the new SuperStar game has been all the rage throughout the dorm. Being the resident game master, Yunho becomes engrossed in it, happily tapping those digital beats while curling up against one of the arms of their huge couch. He’s lucky to be there at this time of day when everyone’s awake as it’s his favorite spot.
Adding onto his luck, he and San are listed on the same Weekly League chart. Although the game is still in its early stages, they came to work together on hitting, or at least trying to hit the highest scores for each album. The Weekly League was exempt from this alliance, though, and then it became a matter of competition.
Neither of them was above cheating, so it was best that Yunho evicted himself from their room and left San to play in there. Although they were in separate rooms and under the same roof, San still spammed Yunho with texts every time their rankings changed.
Yunho snickers in amusement at his roommate’s messages, enjoying his lead while it lasts. He’s racking up more points to further increase the gap between first and second until he falters from the sheer power of a force outside his little bubble, a gaze honing in on him.
A brief glance up reveals Yeosang standing in front of him, not saying or doing anything. He’s dressed in a hoodie so large that it makes him look shapeless, the baggy sleeves just about covering his hands. Usually, Yunho would take a moment to gush about how adorable he looks, but that’s only if he didn’t know why Yeosang’s standing there.
Yunho’s favorite spot on the couch is also Yeosang’s favorite spot.
Of course, Yeosang expects Yunho to move. But why should Yunho have to move? He got there first, fair and square. Yeosang will just have to wait his turn.
Now that he’s in Yeosang’s presence, Yunho’s performance is a little bit affected. He stops talking to himself beneath his breath, his focus becoming unsteady. The only sounds now are the contact of his speedy fingertips against his touchscreen.
Yeosang is still unmoving; the pressure from the quietness makes Yunho frown.
“Something you want?” he asks when Yeosang still doesn’t leave.
“You know what I want,” Yeosang answers.
Yunho acknowledges his words with a hum but otherwise keeps his eyes glued to his phone. He’s so close to the end of the song now and is absolutely determined to finish it while maintaining his streak.
“There’s so much space for you here,” Yunho tilts his chin towards the vast stretch of empty seats beside him.
“I don’t want to sit next to you. I want you to move.”
Yunho holds his breath, preparing for what is supposed to be the final blow, the word to make Yeosang realize he’s met a brick wall (Yunho is the brick wall) and to maybe, just perhaps, find a new favorite spot: “No.”
Yunho doesn’t know what Yeosang’s face looks like after that, when he reacts. If he reacts.
All he knows is one thing: he’s not sitting on the couch anymore.
His body’s being scooped up. One of Yeosang’s arms is beneath his folded legs while the other one supports his back. His feet aren’t touching the ground, or really anything beside air anymore because he’s being lifted by Yeosang who’s not even trembling like Yunho’s more of an oversized dog and not a 185-centimeter-tall human being and he drops his phone in shock.
With determined strides, Yeosang wobbles over to the other end of the couch and promptly dumps Yunho’s body there. Now with empty arms, he goes to the newly vacant spot, his favorite one, and curls himself along it, a content smile growing across his angelic face.
Yunho just stares at him like he’s grown three heads. Yeosang pays him no mind, pulling out his own phone and soon enough he’s tapping away at it to the same song Yunho was playing.
Of course, Yeosang only wanted the couch to expand his card collection of himself in SuperStar.
Yunho collects his own phone from the ground and grunts when he’s met with the updated chart. San has taken first place.
He checks his texts. San’s messages start off boastful about his first place, but then becomes increasingly more worried as Yunho’s points haven’t increased. The last messages Yunho receives are a series of question marks followed by, Is everything alright???
I’m fine, just got distracted, Yunho fires back. By the time his reply is sent, Yeosang is already claiming the rewards from his completed level.
Yunho tries to not freak out with a nervous glance at the human across from him. He even squints at the other, scrutinizing, trying to decipher the shape of Yeosang’s body beneath his baggy hoodie.
Had this been a few months, maybe even a year ago, it would have been impossible for Yeosang to do the thing he just did without struggling. With Yeosang being able to perfectly eliminate his competition, it looks like Yunho isn’t actually the brick wall he hopes to be.
Another problem arises. Yunho should be finding humor or amusement in this situation, but all he can do is sit there with an obvious blush on his face and eyes that can’t be torn away from Yeosang. Maybe he’s looking a bit too hard though, because from the other end of the couch, Yeosang squirms and hides the ever-growing smirk behind his huge sleeve.
Yunho tries to not freak out even more and fails. It seems his brain has decided that it is now the perfect time to have a crisis, the crisis being a thorough investigative moment on just why he liked it when Yeosang picked him up like that, and how he would properly react if he was aware of what was going on.
Well, he did know, but he didn’t want to unearth the memory. It wasn’t too long ago when KCON happened, and to add onto his dilemma, he feels the same now as he did then.
Yunho was certainly curious as to when exactly Yeosang started gaining so much muscle, but he definitely wasn’t wondering how. With him being nearly addicted to working out in the dorm, Yunho already got a good idea on how he got so buff. He usually left Yeosang alone when he worked out, even if he wanted to talk to him, and chose to seek him once he was done.
One day, Yunho figures he may as well pay his odd visit to the company gym. He sticks to the treadmill while keeping an eye on the others. He thought he would be alone but the three roommates joined him.
Jongho keeps his activity light, listening to some music while using the leg lift machine. There’s usually not much to worry about him, even when he’s left to his own devices.
Wooyoung is a greater concern, though, and is even more chaotic when he’s with Yeosang.
Yeosang. One glance at Yeosang, and Yunho gulps and has to grip the treadmill’s bars to avoid falling flat on his face.
Things have been weird on Yunho’s end. He’s been noticing certain things that never really crossed his mind before, like how Yeosang will be one of the few members to softly knock on his door in the evening to ask if he’s eaten. He’ll also stop by the dance practice room after his vocal lessons and ask Yunho if he’s taken a break yet.
Sometimes Yeosang will join Yunho in the practice room as well, running through choreographies until they can’t move or think anymore so they end up lying down and imitating starfish on their newly polished floor.
There’s not a single thought in Yunho’s brain when his shirt sticks to his back from all the sweat as he becomes one with the floor. Something soft touches Yunho’s head when Yeosang lies down, but it’s just Yeosang’s hair which is bound to happen because their heads are almost touching.
They breathe hard. The moment will be quiet, like time has frozen, until something sort of like a lightbulb appears in Yunho’s head.
He’s reached enlightenment. The grand realization is that he likes Yeosang and his company far too much.
It doesn’t help that Yeosang always looks good, but especially now, the look evokes something that makes Yunho want to whimper. The fabric of his shirt stretches across his chest just right, with its sleeves completely rolled up to reveal a pair of toned arms, slightly shiny with sweat from Wooyoung goading him into lifting bigger and heavier weights.
Yunho has to tear his eyes away before he stares for too long. He came to develop a habit of zoning out like that, and some wonder what he’s so deep in thought about. When it comes to the strain of Yeosang’s muscles pushing against those weights though, his brain is always helplessly empty.
There’s a murmur of his name in the air and the voice snaps Yunho out of it. His legs have been surprisingly running on autopilot this whole time.
“What was that?” Yunho asks.
“I said, ‘how about Yunho?’” Wooyoung answers.
“What about me?”
“Is that okay with you?” Yeosang asks this time.
With the unexpected question, Yunho scrambles to stop the treadmill. Either these machines are so loud that he must have missed something or he managed to have an entire conversation while zoning out.
“Yeosangie wants to lift you,” Wooyoung grins.
“Yeosangie wants to what?”
“I think it’d be good practice,” Yeosang says.
“Practice for what?” Yunho asks with a wavering voice. Discreetly, he checks the pulse on his wrist to make sure he’s not in a dream.
Yeosang, who’s not an illusion, is in front of him, inching closer to him, even, and asking if he can carry Yunho.
Yunho steps off the treadmill and looks around for an adult, or really any sensible mind that will deny him of this. But they are in a private gym within their company; there really isn’t anyone besides them around.
“Okay,” Yunho says.
“Alright,” Yeosang smiles.
“How many do you think you can do?” Wooyoung asks excitedly.
“I’ll just try out three,” Yeosang says with a voice that suggests he could probably do fifty. Yunho doesn’t know how to feel about that.
Yeosang positions himself behind Yunho, not sweeping him off of his feet just yet. He’s prepping, spreading his legs a little. Out of courtesy, Yunho bends his legs to match him.
“I’m going to do it now.”
“Okay,” Yunho says, almost light-headed, counting the seconds before it happens.
Yeosang scoops him up in that bridal carry like the one he did back at the dorm, back at KCON, and Wooyoung’s laughing, clapping and cheering him on. Yunho offers his own nervous laughs, hanging onto Yeosang’s firm shoulders. He’s certainly shaking, not used to not feeling the ground, but Yeosang isn’t, supporting his weight with ease.
Yunho likes this so much, his heart beating fast when Yeosang adjusts his footing. He almost expects to be dropped, but Yeosang’s grip only becomes tighter.
Yeosang settles into a deep squat, not even quivering. Yunho’s dangling feet almost touch the ground, and there’s a bit of a bounce to him when Yeosang rises.
“One...” Wooyoung counts.
The second squat happens slowly, Yunho admiring Yeosang’s sculpted profile being put to work.
Yeosang keeps his gaze fixed to the ground. Although it feels like Yeosang is barely struggling, there’s the subtle furrow of his brow and tension in his jaw to signal his efforts. The quietness almost gives the impression that there’s no one else in the room besides them, a terrifying territory quickly broken when Wooyoung chirps out an energetic, “Two!” when Yeosang rises to his starting position.
The third rep is just torturous, with Yunho being too quiet and Yeosang’s face being too close to his. It’s hard for Yunho to think straight when Yeosang carries him, he realizes, but if Yeosang turns his head just so, something can happen, and well, Yunho won’t be against that, but he prefers them to be alone and maybe not in a gym.
“Three! Whoa, you can still do it!” Wooyoung claps.
Yeosang lets Yunho back down gently, bending down just enough for Yunho to get on his feet without much stumbling. However, Yunho stumbles a little anyway, his limbs gone incredibly weak after the whole ordeal.
Jongho, watching the whole thing, joins Wooyoung on praising Yeosang for his strength.
They then poke fun at the color of Yunho’s ears which are a mysterious red. Yunho tolerates the teasing which he kind of deserves and glances at Yeosang, who’s not teasing him but too busy packing his bag, and whose ears, Yunho notices, are a similar shade to his as well.
Since that incident, Yunho couldn’t take it anymore. He rises from his bed where he was yet again doing some internal searching and bursts into Yeosang’s room.
It’s a reckless move, but Yunho is grateful that neither of Yeosang’s roommates is with him.
Yeosang turns on his swivel chair and pulls his headset off. He quirks a brow at Yunho, only to be met with speechlessness.
“Did you want the room code, or...”
“No! I just— you’re busy.” Whatever Yunho plans to say dies in his throat. He’s fully ready to turn around on his heel and run right back to his room. “Nevermind. Don’t mind me.”
“No, I’m not busy. Come back,” Yeosang gets up, clicking around with his mouse before his monitor goes dark.
Yunho is still in the doorway and Yeosang has to come up to him, tug on his hands a bit until he gets the hint and comes into the room. Yeosang tilts his head. “What’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you.” Yunho shuts his mouth after that. He didn’t realize how easy that would be to say.
Yeosang blinks. “Really?”
“It would be kind of weird if I was lying right now,” Yunho laughs nervously.
“I’m just surprised. Is that the only thing you’ve been thinking about?” Yeosang asks.
Yunho does and doesn’t want to ask for elaboration at the same time. Has Yeosang been thinking about this too? Even more than that?
“No...” he admits.
“Oh? Do you want to tell me?”
Yunho chooses to not believe that this conversation is real. “Can I tell you later?”
Yeosang studies his face closely. The attention makes Yunho squirm. They’re still holding hands and Yunho’s are definitely getting clammier by the moment.
“I guess you can tell me when you’re ready. But I think I can guess what it might be,” is all Yeosang says. “Did you want me to do something about the first thing, though?”
Yunho is pretty much ready to confront the first thing, but only if Yeosang is ready. “If you want.”
“Okay,” Yeosang says. He lets go of Yunho’s hands to hold his face instead, gently cupping his cheeks. He’s getting closer, coming into Yunho’s space now, and he’s leaning up and tilting his head to press their lips together.
It’s a bit clumsy but sweet and Yunho is still in a bit of a daze, though it doesn’t take long for him to process the moment. Yeosang comes even closer until their bodies are against each other, Yunho holding his waist.
Yeosang presses against him more insistently then, and with a slide of their lips, Yunho finds himself taking a step backwards and Yeosang forwards. Yeosang keeps advancing until Yunho can’t move back anymore.
Yunho breaks the kiss when his back touches the wall. He’s completely pressed against it. Yeosang’s eyes are intense, focused on only him as his hands move from his face, trailing down his sides and stopping just at his waist. He gives a squeeze to his hip, and Yunho lifts his leg a little, breath quickening when Yeosang hooks an arm beneath it. He guides Yunho’s leg to wrap around him, doing the same with his other leg.
Yunho grabs Yeosang’s shoulders, his face overwhelmingly hot when Yeosang tightens his grip around his legs. The warmth from their bodies and Yeosang’s front against his is almost too much.
“Is this it? What you were thinking about?” Yeosang asks with a knowing smile.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Yunho nods with a laugh, melting against the wall and into the kiss when Yeosang leans back in.