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One thing Serim is used to now, in this weird and wonderful life he’s made for himself, is feeling out of breath. His breath quick and out of control, in time with the pumping of his heart. He can feel it from his head to the tips of his fingers.
He lays on the floor of the practice room, collapsed after another run of choreography and looks to the side. He watches Woobin walk back towards him after pausing the music.
Woobin smiles at Serim as he joins him on the floor, lays his head on Serim’s outstretched arm, using his forearm as a pillow. Serim looks at him grin up at the ceiling.
“I’m done for today,” Serim declares, sighing in the relief of accepting his tired state.
Woobin laughs and turns his head to face him, the ends of his silver hair gracing the floor. Serim can feel each strand tickle against his skin.
“You’re getting old, hyung.” Woobin scrunches his face, proud of his teasing. “Your stamina is going.”
Serim rolls his eyes. He realised early on that having this role, having this family, will tie him to a life of endless old-man jokes. Even if he is unfazed at this stage, he tries to retort in some manner to play along with their teasing.
“I’ll have you know I could dance again, right now. No issue,” Serim argues. “I’m just choosing not to.”
“Just choosing not to,” Woobin mimics him and laughs and why doesn’t he get paid to stand on a stage and laugh? Why is he here, practicing difficult choreography with Serim until their bodies are too sore to move when his laugh is as beautiful a sound as his singing?
He also looks beautiful when he laughs, tipping his head back against Serim’s arm and mouth open in a wide smile, matching the loudness of the sound. His eyes are scrunched shut to make room for his cheeks.
Serim carefully takes him arm back, retiring its use as a pillow, to stand up. Woobin sits up, follows him half-way.
“Dance with me then,” Serim says, holding a hand out. “To prove I can.”
Woobin blinks at him incredulously.
“Oh, sorry,” Serim corrects, retracting his hand just to hold it back out to Woobin again, with a bow this time. “May I have this dance, my good sir?”
Woobin giggles and accepts Serim’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet.
Serim holds onto one of Woobin’s hands and places his other arm around Woobin’s waist to pull him into a ballroom dancing hold.
“Oh,” Woobin says, surprised, before he giggles and plays along, putting an arm on Serim’s shoulder.
Not quite a technically correct ballroom pose but this is for silly times not for propriety.
They sway together as they dance. Serim has no idea what they’re doing but he likes holding Woobin. Likes looking at Woobin while he laughs.
Woobin meets his eyes and shies away with a small smile, pulling away from Serim for a moment.
“This is awkward with no music,” he comments while he runs back to his phone to put on music. A song starts to quietly play and Serim takes a moment to recognise it as Angel Baby: a song he’s heard more often sung by Woobin’s soft, unfocused voice than the original.
Woobin puts his phone down and starts back to Serim. Serim stands still and worries that Woobin will stop along the way: what if he doesn’t want to be that close again?
But Woobin steps right back into his space and holds his hand out for Serim to take.
Serim grins and pulls Woobin back in against him, warm and right.
Woobin glances at Serim’s arm around his waist. “Am I not a little big?”
“I think I can manage.”
It is less awkward with the music on. Laughs come quicker, dances become sillier.
They push away and pull back into a hug, sway side to side. They sing along to the songs, cut off lines early with laughs.
They match the vibe of each song as it plays…sometimes. Sometimes their laughs are too loud over the switch to a soft song and their dancing stays silly. Sometimes Serim stubbornly holds Woobin in a hug despite the upbeat song. Woobin doesn’t argue.
Woobin screams when Serim spins him, his grip on Serim’s shoulder stronger as he tries to balance himself.
“I’m getting you back for that right now, hyung!” Woobin declares.
They separate, two hands still grasped, and Woobin gestures for Serim to spin towards him.
“You better catch me, Ruby.”
He hesitates and sees Woobin roll his eyes. Serim snorts and gives in—as he usually does—turning into Woobin.
He spins and feels Woobin catch him, pulling Serim into his chest. Either Serim over spins, though, or Woobin loses balance because Serim ends up halfway to the floor with only Woobin holding him up. Serim’s feet are on the ground but rest of him is at Woobin’s mercy.
However strong Woobin might be, there is no way Serim is going anywhere but down so Woobin lowers him to the ground, the two of them cackling the whole way.
Woobin must not have any energy left in him because he lowers to the floor too, his hands braced on either side of Serim’s head. Serim falls quiet, just watching Woobin laugh like he has everything in the world to be happy about. Serim thinks he must look the same way.
“You are just as out of breath as earlier,” Woobin teases, pushing himself up on his hands. “Maybe you are getting old, hyung.”
Serim is this weird combination of terrified and giddy at being teased like that, like Woobin sees how he looks at him. Like he knows the real reason Serim’s out of breath. The mix of vulnerability and assurance you feel when you are listened to.
Another part of his brain registers the age joke and responds accordingly: a stuck out tongue and an eye-roll.
Woobin smiles and rolls to the side to lay beside Serim, and Serim’s gaze follows him the whole way. The weight of Woobin’s arm on top of his is heavy but not in a bad way, just noticeable. Just comforting. Woobin looks at him and they smile and Serim knows his cheeks are going to hurt later; he can feel them ache already.
Before they can start up another conversation, the familiar sound of the door brushing open sounds over the soft music.
Serim looks over and sees Seongmin walk into the room, all wrapped up in his padded jacket with a bag on one shoulder. Serim sits up, Woobin following, and sends a smile over to Seongmin.
“I’m going home!” Seongmin announces in his cute little voice and Serim can’t help but smile wider.
“Do you want me to come with?” Serim offers without hesitation. He’s used to going home with Seongmin, likes the routine of it; the responsibility.
Seongmin shakes his head, “It’s okay! I’m going with Jungmo-hyung.”
“Okay,” Serim says, assured, and holds his arms out wide, waiting for a hug goodbye. Seongmin shuffles over and crouches down to sink into his hug. Serim hugs him tight, then lets him go with a poke to his cheek. Seongmin fixes the bag on his shoulder and waddles in his crouch over to Woobin.
Woobin bundles him into his arms and Serim fondly watches the way Seongmin’s face squishes against Woobin’s shoulder. They separate but Woobin stops him from standing up with two careful hands on his cheeks.
Seongmin shoos Woobin away when Woobin places a kiss on his forehead but Woobin just smiles: like he knows this happens every time but it’s still worth it.
There’s so much warmth and fondness to be found everywhere.
Seongmin stands up and rushes back to the door.
“Come home soon, hyungs!”
“We will,” Woobin promises for them.
Seongmin leaves and Serim and Woobin sit with twin smiles, full of love and content.
“He is too cute,” Woobin says fondly.
“He is,” Serim agrees.
Seongmin is so cute and so precious Serim coos at him and feels the need to pinch his cheeks. Woobin is so pretty and so round Serim never knows what to do with himself.
“I can’t believe you actually dropped me,” Serim whines, falling back to the floor dramatically. “The one thing I asked you not to do!”
Woobin rolls his eyes, failing to hold back a laugh. “Hey, that was your fault completely,” Woobin argues. “I did the best I could making sure you didn’t die on the floor, you should be grateful.” He punctuates it with a poke to Serim’s thigh.
Serim sits up and sticks his tongue out. “Maybe you’re just not strong enough, hm?”
“Alright, Mr. Bodybuilder,” Woobin snorts.
Woobin stands and walks back over to his phone, turning off the music. Serim watches, legs crossed, as he walks back. His stomach suddenly swirls at the thought of possibly looking up at Woobin if he gets any closer. Serim scrambles to his feet.
“Are you okay?” Woobin asks. Softly. Lighthearted yet full of honest concern.
There is a tingling sensation all over Serim’s body and his breathing is a beat faster than usual. He says, “Yes, of course.”
And then Woobin hugs him and he calms again.
Being with Woobin is a never-ending cycle of feeling the most at peace Serim thinks he could ever be and the most ridiculous and reckless he could ever feel. Woobin will join him on any antic and make it a million times more chaotic, and afterwards, cook him a meal and get him to bed by midnight.
Seongmin would say that it’s Woobin’s Libra energy, but Serim doesn’t like to give it a reason: It just is.
“Do you want to go home soon, hyung?” Woobin suggests, so quietly Serim can barely hear him.
Serim…doesn’t really; he wants to stay right here. Which is a bit ridiculous considering that the amount of Woobin hugs he can get at home is very many. But he is comfortable. Who can blame him.
Serim shakes his head against Woobin’s shoulder and mumbles something like, “No, you’re comfy.”
Woobin laughs his big loud laugh and Serim can hear it through his hands on Woobin’s back. Woobin pats Serim’s head. Once. Twice. Then leaves his hand there to play with Serim’s hair.
“Ruby,” Serim smiles.
“Seri,” Woobin smiles back.
“Rubyrubyrubyruby,” Serim says.
“Seriseriseriseri,” Woobin says back.
“Rubyrubyrubyrubyrubyruby,” Serim keeps saying.
Woobin giggles and carefully pulls back from the hug to look at Serim. Serim looks back.
“What are you doing?”
“Important things.”
Woobin giggles again.
“Can I…?” Serim trails off as he carefully lifts a hand to hover over Woobin’s cheek.
Woobin grins, “Yes, of course.”
So Serim cups Woobin’s face with one hand. Then the other. Woobin follows, delicately placing his hands over Serim’s own and curving his fingers around the sides of Serim’s thumbs. As if to hold him in place, or assure him that he is welcome here.
Serim stretches up on his toes to leave a kiss on Woobin’s forehead. He feels hair tickle the end of his nose and giggles as he pulls back. Woobin moves forward to kiss his lips and Serim gasps.
Woobin kisses him and Serim dances his fingers over Woobin’s cheeks in a thank you. Woobin is there, as always. So soft, so solid, so helpful and caring and good, and Serim could say thank you every day and it wouldn’t be enough so he kisses a thousand ‘thank you’s onto Woobin’s lips and paints them onto Woobin’s cheeks and hopes that Woobin hears it.
Woobin kisses him hard, shies away, and Serim guides him back. Serim smiles wide and their teeth clank together and Woobin laughs right into his mouth. Serim wishes that every time he touched his lips he would hear that sound again.
Their foreheads rest together, both laughing and breathing; their hands still clasped together over Woobin’s cheeks. Serim meets his eye and Woobin pinks, his gaze dropping to the floor and his cheeks warming under Serim’s hands.
“You were the one who kissed me and now you’re getting shy?” Serim teases.
“Shush!” Woobin’s eyes go wide and his collected expression falls to something sillier, unpracticed, the way it does when he’s surprised. He covers Serim’s mouth with a hand, as if saying it out loud is more real than actually kissing. Woobin is one for actions over words.
Serim kisses the hand against his mouth and Woobin looks stern for a moment before his softer expression returns and he drops his hand. Serim catches it. They stand facing each other, hands dangling between them.
“We’re lucky it was Seongmin who came in earlier, though,” Woobin starts. “If it was Hyeongjun this whole building would know.”
Serim snorts at the thought of Hyeongjun running down the hallways shouting something like ‘Serim and Woobin are being gay, don’t go in there!’.
“I love them,” Serim says, meaning Seongmin and Hyeongjun and Woobin and all of them: every last one. Right to their core.
“I know,” Woobin says, and it’s the most assurance Serim’s ever felt that he’s doing a good job. Woobin watches their hands sway and Serim watches the top of his head. “We love you, too.”
“Can I do it again?” Serim asks. Woobin looks up and Serim continues, “Can I kiss you?”
Woobin smiles, “Yes.”
Serim kisses him gently. He trails a hand up to Woobin’s neck and Woobin pulls him closer by the waist. Serim pecks Woobin’s lips then moves to each of his cheeks. He pulls back just to see Woobin blush. Woobin is so warm and so warm and so warm again.
“What is it with you and my cheeks?”
Serim kisses his cheek again.
“You are just so soft and round and need to be held and kissed!”
Woobin scoffs and pulls Serim into a hug, hiding his face in Serim’s neck. Serim laughs and pulls Woobin into him further, his arms around his shoulders and a hand on the nape of his neck, loosely playing with the ends of his hair.
“Let’s go home?”
Serim picks up their jackets from the counter, handing Woobin’s to him after turning off the sound system. Woobin flicks his hoodie hood onto his head as he puts on his coat. Serim grabs Woobin’s hoodie strings and carefully pulls him in until he’s close enough for Serim to bump Woobin’s nose with his own. He leaves a tiny kiss on the same spot. Woobin leaves a tiny kiss on Serim’s lips.
It’s not the first time they’ve walked home holding hands. Sometimes it’s just them. Sometimes they’re walking behind the members, watching them joke and play despite the late hour or cold weather. Sometimes there’s another body, or two, or three, in between them.
Always, no matter where they’re going Serim is already home.