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When the manager tells Yuta he’s going to film a couple of segments with Xiaojun for NCT 2021 content, Yuta nods, says “Got it, hyung”, and promptly forgets all about it.
It’s really a no brainer. Xiaojun is fun to tease and nice to look at, so Yuta’s plan is to just do what he usually does in situations like these: flirt shamelessly and make a nuisance of himself.
Easy. Standard. Nothing to be concerned about. He goes back to bothering Mark as soon as the manager is out the door.
*
He doesn’t think about Xiaojun until a couple of weeks later, when they’re doing the album jacket shoot for Universe.
Xiaojun is all dressed up already when Yuta shows up, the makeup team applying the finishing touches to his face.
“Looking good, Xiaojun,” Yuta says, nodding his approval at him. It’s not even a lie; Xiaojun is pretty, anyone with eyes can see it, and Yuta is a firm believer that nice things should be appreciated out loud.
He watches in delight as Xiaojun’s ears color red and he stutters out a “T-thank you, hyung.”
Then, in a break between photos, they film the content. It goes just as smoothly as Yuta thought it would: he holds Xiaojun’s hand, says a bunch of nonsense that gets him flustered, makes Mark laugh. Mark is cute when he laughs. Mark is always cute.
Manager-hyung gives him a thumbs up from behind the camera as they’re about to finish it up. Yuta mentally pats himself in the back for another job well done, thinking this is it, and that’s when the weirdest thing happens.
Xiaojun gets too close.
He stares at Yuta head on, a hand briefly touching his waist, then his arm, then he steps up into Yuta’s personal space, close, closer, advancing like he’s not going to stop. Yuta, alarmed, yells, “Stop!”
Xiaojun immediately retreats, an embarrassed look on his face, while Mark and Jungwoo laugh at them.
What the fuck was that? Yuta has no idea, his heart beating a mile a minute, but he manages to save face and they wrap up the video, saying goodbye to the cameras.
After they hand their microphones back to a staff member and someone else comes to fuss over Yuta’s hair, Xiaojun tugs on his sleeve. “Sorry about that, hyung,” he says, voice hesitant and anxious.
Yuta looks at him over the hair stylist’s head. Xiaojun is back to his shy and quiet self, the confidence from earlier gone, and Yuta almost breathes a sigh of relief. It was just for a moment, then. A second of boldness and fanservice for the cameras that probably won’t happen again.
“It’s okay, Jun-ah,” Yuta says, voice velvet smooth, immediately switching back to his normal playfulness too. He smirks, and Xiaojun looks a little dazed. Good. “You can come as close to hyung as you like.”
Xiaojun blinks at him, genuine shock on his face. “Really?”
“Really,” Yuta shrugs. He knows Xiaojun will not take him up on that offer.
“Okay, then,” Xiaojun nods, grinning.
“Hm,” Yuta says. “You have a pretty smile.”
He watches with satisfaction as color rushes to Xiaojun’s cheeks.
*
It’s only when they’re filming It’s Awkward, But It’s Okay a few days later that Yuta realizes his mistake.
He’s the one getting his hair and makeup done when Xiaojun arrives this time. He sits on the chair next to Yuta, his eyes barely open, and Yuta smiles at him through the mirror. It’s eight in the morning on a Sunday, way too early no matter how used one is to crazy idol schedules, and Xiaojun’s cheeks are all puffy, his hair a mess. He looks cute, though.
Xiaojun reaches across the space between them, fingers brushing against Yuta’s elbow. “Hi, hyung.”
Yuta freezes.
Xiaojun’s hand is there one second and gone the next, the touch almost feather-light, but the boldness of it roots Yuta to the spot. If it had been Taeyong doing it, or Haechan, or Jungwoo, he would think nothing of it. He would preen under the attention, grin at them, strike up a conversation. But Xiaojun?
They’re not like that. They barely know each other, and most of their interactions consist of Yuta purposely doing stuff to fluster Xiaojun in front of the cameras, their dynamic clear and easy. This touch feels too soft, too real, too like Yuta doesn’t have the upper hand anymore.
Johnny, sitting on the couch across the room, raises his eyebrows as his eyes meet Yuta’s in the mirror. He mouths “What was that?” and Yuta shakes his head minutely, keeping his face carefully blank.
Xiaojun’s sleepy, he reasons. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Yeah, Yuta decides, that’s it. He relaxes in his chair, safe in the knowledge that when Xiaojun is fully awake, when the cameras turn on, everything will go back to how it’s supposed to be.
Except it doesn’t. It’s actually worse when Xiaojun is wide-eyed and alert, because then he answers to every single thing Yuta says or does. He laughs, blushes, flutters his eyelashes. He also keeps touching Yuta, fleeting and small but there, almost like he doesn’t mean to but can’t help himself.
Johnny and Jaemin are no help either. Yuta rarely feels really awkward with anyone, but with the pair of them being insane, there are commands that startle a laugh out of him because surely they can’t be serious. Johnny, in particular, seems to enjoy making Yuta embarrass himself, having him do stuff like scream he loves Xiaojun. But at least he also seems to know when Yuta is actually uncomfortable with something and smoothly steps up to save him.
It’s the most flustered Yuta’s ever been on a shoot. He tries not to let it show, of course, but there are moments of lingering, suffocating silence that leave Yuta mortified, and he can’t look Xiaojun in the eye during a couple of the missions because his gaze is so intense.
Yuta is out the door as soon as the cameras turn off. He says something about needing the bathroom, then dashes to the restroom on the other side of the studio. He splashes some water on his face, trying to cool it down, and breathes a sigh of relief that it’s all over.
The door opens then, and Xiaojun walks in. Yuta suppresses a groan.
“Hyung,” Xiaojun starts, shy. He licks his lips. Yuta’s eyes follow the movement. “Was that really your number you wrote in the picture?”
Yuta needs to get out of here right now. He can’t deal with Xiaojun and his overly eager, overly pretty face.
“Of course, Jun-ah,” he smiles his most charming, idol-like smile. He winks, too, in the hopes it’ll fluster Xiaojun so much he’ll just turn around and leave.
Xiaojun blushes such a dark red even the makeup he’s still wearing is not enough to cover it. Yuta is certain, positive his plan worked, until Xiaojun takes a deep breath and a step forward.
“Hyung, would you—” another step forward, and Yuta takes a step back. Now he’s pressed between the sink and Xiaojun. “Would you— do you— do you want to hang out, sometime? Just. Just the two of us?”
“Want to get me alone so you can kiss me?” Yuta jokes, laughs even, the joke overused and familiar.
Xiaojun blinks once, twice. Then he dives forward and kisses Yuta.
Yuta is so shocked he lets it happen for a second or two. Then he realizes what’s going on and pushes Xiaojun back, startled. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“Yeah, but… why?”
Xiaojun frowns, confusion clear in his eyes. He looks between Yuta’s hands on his chest keeping him away and Yuta’s disbelieving face, and something seems to click for him.
“Hyung,” he starts slowly. “Were you not serious? When you told me I could come as close to you as I liked, and you— you gave me your number—”
Yuta prays he’s joking, prays this is just one of Johnny’s elaborate pranks he managed to rope Xiaojun into, prays this is a hidden cam, even. But, even as he prays, he knows the truth. Xiaojun is just so earnest. He’s transparent, his emotions showing on his face openly, and it’s easy to see he’s actually serious.
Shit.
“I mean!” Yuta runs his hands through his hair, staring at Xiaojun open-mouthed. “We were just acting! All the flirting, everything, we were doing it for the cameras, right? Right?”
Xiaojun doesn’t answer him. His face turns a little green, and he looks like he might throw up any second now.
“Oh my god. Oh my god,” he mutters, more to himself than to Yuta. “I’m so sorry, I’m— Sorry, sorry, hyung.”
He bolts. Yuta is left blinking after him.
*
He doesn’t say a single word to Johnny on the ride back to the dorms. He just pushes his AirPods in and closes his eyes, but he’s too psyched up to actually sleep, mind running a mile a minute.
Is it his fault, he wonders? Did he play with Xiaojun too much, seemed too into it, gave him false hope? But then again, Xiaojun should know. They’re idols, they do shit like that for the cameras all the time and rarely mean it, so he doesn’t really understand how Xiaojun could possibly think he was serious.
Yuta’s not angry. He’s just confused and surprised. A little scared too, if he’s being honest, at a loss of what to do. He could do nothing, really; he and Xiaojun are not in the same unit, they don’t meet often, a misunderstanding would hardly affect group dynamics. But it’s not good to let something like this grow and fester. It could mean trouble for him. For both of them.
He’s so distracted thinking about it as he walks inside the apartment that he almost walks into Taeil.
“Ya, careful there,” Taeil says, lazily gesturing to the half-bitten sandwich he’s holding. “I’m eating my sandwich.”
He could talk to Taeil about this. He’s level-headed, chill, and he might not give very good advice, but at least Yuta can get everything off his chest.
So he sits Taeil on the couch and tells him about what happened. Taeil keeps eating his sandwich through the story, humming and nodding and chewing.
“Wow,” he says, taking the last bite of his sandwich just as Yuta wraps up. “He kissed you? Really?”
Yuta nods. “What do I do now, hyung?”
“Be professional about it,” Taeil shrugs, unbothered. “I think he got the message now that you weren’t serious,” he pauses, squinting his eyes at Yuta. “…Unless you were serious?”
“I wasn’t,” Yuta says. Pauses. Considers. “Well, actually…”
Taeil cuts him off like he’d rather not know. “Well, think about it, Yuta-ya. I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” he stands up and throws his balled up sandwich wrapper towards the trash can. It bounces off the edge and disappears under a stool. “I’m going to take a nap now.”
No real advice from him, as expected. Nothing except think about it, which, in the end, Yuta does. He spends all day then all night thinking about the situation, about Xiaojun, about himself. Thinks about how fun it is to tease Doyoung, who gets all high and mighty and huffs and puffs, or Mark, who laughs and blushes and stutters and never ever teases back. That’s why Yuta messes with them instead of Haechan or Johnny, who are shameless and will give back as good as they get. Because the truth is, Yuta is all talk. He pushes and pushes and pushes, but the minute someone actually pushes back, he freezes, terrified and awkward. He thought Xiaojun would never push back.
How wrong he was.
*
They’ve been in the studio for an hour, getting ready to shoot, and Xiaojun hasn’t looked him in the eye once. Yuta’s not eager to look at him either, still embarrassed from the day before, but as they’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch and the cameras are about to start rolling, Taeil’s less-than-stellar advice comes to mind.
“Jun-ah,” he says, trying to keep his voice soft but firm. “Let’s be professionals, yeah?”
Xiaojun immediately straightens his back, his whole demeanor changing. He finally looks at Yuta with a serious face, then scoots closer to him on the couch, until there’s only a few centimeters between them. “Of course, hyung,” he nods.
He is all earnest eyes and genuine, open expression again. Yuta coughs into his fist and looks away.
Being MC is harder than Yuta thought it would be. He’s good at doing and saying the most ridiculous things, but he doesn’t know Sungchan well enough to know how far he can go in his commands, what would make him genuinely upset. Add in the fact that Xiaojun keeps sneaking glances at him and doesn’t do a lot to direct Kun, and Yuta is exhausted by the time they’re done.
Xiaojun hands his microphone back to the audio staff and practically runs to Kun’s side. It’s like he knows Yuta wants to talk to him so he’s using Kun as a shield.
But Yuta can handle Kun. He smirks as he makes his way to them.
“Kun-ah,” he purrs, friendly. “Can I borrow Xiaojun for the rest of the day?”
Xiaojun’s eyes widen. He and Kun proceed to talk through a complicated series of eyebrow raises, pointed looks and head shakes, until Kun sighs.
“Sure, hyung,” he says. Xiaojun makes a vague noise of betrayal low in his throat. “Figure your stuff out, I don’t want to know.”
“You so want to know,” Xiaojun crosses his arms. “And I’m not going to tell you anything. Serves you right.”
Kun rolls his eyes at him, smiles at Yuta, and takes off to talk to Sungchan. Yuta tells his manager Xiaojun’s going home with him.
“To play games,” he says. Manager-hyung shrugs.
The ride back is spent in absolute silence. Not like his silence with Johnny the day before, comfortable and easy, but a tense, suffocation quietness that grows heavier the closer they get to the dorms.
There’s someone watching TV in the living room when they finally get home. Yuta doesn’t even see who it is, quick to grab Xiaojun by the arm, shove him inside his bedroom and close the door.
“So,” he says, as Xiaojun stands awkwardly in the middle of the room.
“Yes,” Xiaojun says.
He sounds terrified, his eyes wide and shoulders tense. Yuta frowns.
“Sit down, Jun-ah,” he makes sure to keep his voice gentle and calm so Xiaojun knows there’s nothing to fear. He sits on his bed and pats the space next to him.
Xiaojun’s face blanches. “On your bed?” He squeaks, then clears his throat. “I don’t think— I don’t—”
“How about the chair, then?”
Yuta points to Taeil’s chair behind Xiaojun. He considers it for a second, nods, and sits on it gingerly.
“So”, Yuta tries again. He grimaces, unsure. He’s great at dropping hints, dancing around a subject, but direct confrontation was never really his forte. “About yesterday—”
“I’m sorry, hyung,” Xiaojun interrupts him, head hanging low. “I misunderstood you. I shouldn’t have, really. It won’t happen again.”
Yuta considers it. It’s an out, if he wants to take it. Things can go back to normal, back to how they were before. They’ll flirt a little when they see each other once or twice a year, he’ll say nonsense to make Xiaojun flustered, the fans will eat up, everybody will be happy. Easy. Standard. Nothing to be concerned about.
Except Yuta is tired of being all bark. Now, he’s gonna bite.
“What if I want it to happen again?”
Xiaojun’s head snaps up so quickly his neck makes a distinct crack sound. “What?”
“Hm,” Yuta gets up. He braces his hands on the arms of the chair and crowds into Xiaojun’s space, their faces really close together.
Xiaojun blinks up at him, dazed, eyes dark. He moves forward the tiniest bit, like it’s instinct. Their lips brush. Yuta resists the urge to step back, to run away, and instead leans into it, kissing Xiaojun.
They kiss slow and deep, unhurried, like they have all the time in the world. Xiaojun sighs into the kiss. Yuta bites his lower lip and tugs.
When they part, Xiaojun has that earnest look again, his face cute and pretty and open. What a stupid boy, walking around with his heart on his sleeve. Yuta might just have to teach him a thing or two about survival.
“You’re serious about this, hyung?”
Xiaojun says it like he expects Yuta to marry him or something. Yuta backs up a little, startled, then sighs.
“I want to kiss you,” he says, opting for honesty. “And maybe do some more, if you’re up for it. But we can take it slow, yeah? Let’s just see where this goes.”
Xiaojun is quiet for a second. Then he nods, seemingly satisfied. “Okay. Let’s do that.”
“Cool,” Yuta kisses the tip of Xiaojun’s red ear. “You’re so pretty, Jun-ah. Blue hair looks good on you.”
“Aish, stop it,” Xiaojun rolls his eyes, but he’s giggling and blushing. “Hyung, did you really not remember that time you kabedon-ed me last year?”
Yuta raises his eyebrows. “Did you really remember?”
“Yes.”
Maybe Yuta should have been paying more attention since the start. Maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated Xiaojun at all.
It doesn’t really matter, though. Xiaojun leans in, confident and firm, and Yuta meets him halfway.