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Jisung couldn’t sleep.
They had just come back from their tour. Over 20 shows in more than 10 countries. Jisung still couldn’t believe it sometimes, that they had come so far, and that they had done so together.
He was lying on his back, having given up a while ago on the illusion of falling asleep any time soon. He was tempted to check the time, but he knew it was useless; it didn’t matter if it was 10 p.m or 5 a.m, sleep still evaded him. He had been staring into nothingness for what felt like an eternity, his thoughts all over the place but sometimes coming back to name all the constellations strung across his ceiling.
It had been Renjun’s idea, of course. It had been his birthday, and after coming back from having lunch with his parents, Jisung had found Renjun and Jaemin sticking glow-in-the-dark stickers all over his bedroom. Jaemin had been standing on a ladder, tongue poking out as he delicately attached the stars where Renjun told him.
It had been such a silly thing to do, such a childish gift, but that night, Jisung couldn’t help the stinging in his eyes when he laid down on his bed and watched the constellations painted up there.
Now, as Jisung stared once again at them, the warm feeling in his chest returned. Tired of not being able to sleep, he shook his head and stood up. Maybe something to eat will help, he thought as he moved across the room.
He opened the door silently and walked softly even though the dorm was dead quiet. After landing back in Korea, they had all been given a week to rest. Mark and Donghyuck had been immediately whisked away to prepare for the upcoming 127 album; Jeno had decided to spend some days with his family; Chenle had his own house; and Renjun, having missed his boyfriend terribly, had all but moved in with WayV.
So, really, Jisung didn’t have to be that quiet, but it was by force of habit. As he went towards the kitchen, he saw a faint light coming from there. Well, it seemed like the only other person in the house was awake too.
The kitchen was softly bathed in the yellow light coming from a small lamp, barely bright enough to make any difference. As he stepped into the room, he saw Jaemin standing in front of the counter, back facing him and trying to reach something on the upper shelf of the cabinet.
He was balancing himself on his tippy-toes, one hand placed on the counter to propel himself a little higher. By the annoyed whine he let out, it seemed to be all in vain.
Jisung moved closer, one hand already reaching up. “Let me help, hyung.”
Jaemin’s whole body stilled. “The herbal tea,” he whispered after a moment.
Jisung looked up, his eyes immediately zooming into the tin containing the tea and pulled it closer to the edge of the shelf. The movement made him press closer to the other’s body, and it was at that moment that he realised just how close they were.
His entire front was flat against Jaemin’s back, his body crowding the older into the counter. One of his hands was closed tight against the tin, but the other one, without Jisung realising, had settled on Jaemin’s waist, so big that it made everything look comically small.
The heat coming from Jaemin’s body was the next thing Jisung became aware of. Summer was fast approaching, and the temperatures had been slowly rising, so he was only wearing a thin cotton t-shirt that was so worn that it was almost translucid. The thin material meant that Jisung felt all the points their bodies were touching; the warmth radiating from Jaemin was almost overwhelming.
Well, actually, it was not the warmth coming from him that made Jisung feel as if he had touched an electrified wire, no. It was all in Jisung’s head, really. It had started a while back — Jisung couldn’t pinpoint exactly when because, deep down, he had always felt that way —, the breathlessness when Jaemin hugged him tight, the wish to hold his hand a little longer, the urge to buy every single item that reminded Jisung of him, the yearning to be close to him all the time, the itch in the back of his mind telling him to kiss Jaemin senseless.
And now, Jisung felt every single one of the emotions he had been repressing slamming back into him all at once.
Jaemin’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “Jisung-ah?”
Jisung jumped back, the tin of tea almost falling to the floor in his haste to put distance between them.
“Huh?” He tried to compose himself, clearing his throat once. “Sorry, hyung, I didn’t get that.”
Jaemin looked him in the eyes, a strange glimmer in his gaze as if he was trying to figure something out. His arms were wrapped around himself, and Jisung couldn’t help but focus on the place where his own hand had been not a minute before. When he looked back up at Jaemin’s face, the other’s eyes seemed to be a little of out focus, zooming in a little bit lower, almost as if he were looking at Jisung’s mouth.
The sound of the electric kettle boiling snapped them out of the weird staring limbo they had found themselves in. Jaemin turned once more, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard and filling them up. He gestured for Jisung to pass the tea tin, and quickly prepared everything. Once he was done, he handed Jisung one of the mugs.
“Well, I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too late, alright?”
And with that, he took his own mug and left the kitchen. Jisung was frozen in the middle of the room. What had just happened, he didn’t know, but he willed himself to forget about Jaemin’s look, the way his eyes, half-lidded, had zoomed in on his lips. It was the middle of the night, surely it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things that weren’t there.
He repeated that in his mind as if it was a mantra, trying desperately to chuck the whole interaction to weird 5 a.m. vibes, but his dreams were still plagued with the warmth of holding Jaemin close.
~
Jisung woke up the next morning with the memory of Jaemin’s body against his still fresh in his mind. Nevertheless, not wanting to make things weird now that sunshine was shining through once again, he vowed to put it on the back burner of his brain and pretend that everything was normal.
As a consequence of his late-night insomnia, it was now nearing 12 p.m. and his body was demanding some food. Sluggishly, he trekked towards the kitchen, his t-shirt all rumpled and his hair completely messed up.
Upon entering the room, the faint smell of doenjang jjigae made his stomach rumble. Stepping closer to the stove, he saw a pot with a post-it note stuck to the lid. If not because of the familiar handwriting, the silly face drawn at the bottom of the note made it obvious who had written it.
To my baby:
Eat as much as you want, you need energy to grow! There’s rice on the rice cooker too.
Your favourite hyung (. > ‿‿ < .)
Jisung smiled. Jaemin, despite all of his eccentricities, always made sure to take care of everyone else. The image of his hyung preparing some food for him, even though it was a regular occurrence, made the warm feeling in his chest return once more.
After serving himself a bowl of stew and rice, Jisung began eating slowly, tiredness still clinging to his being. Once the bowl was empty and his stomach full, he started to load everything into the dishwasher.
He headed towards Jaemin’s room, and from the hallway, he could already see him hunched over his computer, most likely going through all the pictures he had taken while on tour.
He knocked softly on the door, chuckling a bit when Jaemin jumped at the sound. As predicted, the older one had been completely absorbed in editing a picture of Renjun and Chenle, bickering as they always were with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop.
“Jisung-ah,” he smiled, his eyes were soft and Jisung felt a pang in his chest. “How did you sleep? I left some stew for you in the kitchen.”
Jisung lips pulled up, fondness invading every centimetre of his body. It was just, fuck, Jaemin was otherwordly, if one stopped to think about it, and Jisung had had his mind plagued by thoughts of him for a really long time now.
“Yes, I’ve just finished. It was delicious, hyung!”
“Good, good. You should eat a lot, Jisung-ah. You need energy to grow.”
“Yah, I am not a child anymore,” he whined. Sticking out his tongue, he added, “Besides, I’m taller than you.”
Jaemin’s eyes suddenly gleamed menacingly, and in one second, he jumped off his chair and started making grabby hands towards Jisung. Jisung squealed, trying to back away but Jaemin had already managed to pinch his cheek with one hand while making baby noises, his other one wrapping around his waist to hinder his escape.
After trying, and failing, to untangle himself from his friend, he accepted defeat and went limp in Jaemin’s arms. “Hyung! You win! Please stop, hyung!”
Jaemin laughed and relented. He still had one arm around Jisung and a hand on his cheek, so close together that the stray strands of his fringe tickled Jisung’s nose. Jaemin looked up, gazes locking together and for a second, there was an indescribable feeling swimming around in his eyes, something intense, almost hungry. The next second, however, it was gone and Jaemin pulled back.
Jisung shook his head to clear his thoughts a little.
“I’m going to the studio to practice a little, I’ll be back for dinner, though.”
Jaemin frowned. “To the studio? You should be resting, Jisung.”
“I just want to freestyle a bit, let loose. It’s been too long since we had time to do so.”
“Alright, but make sure to take breaks and drink plenty of water.”
After promising twenty times that he wouldn’t overwork himself and that he would eat and drink something between breaks, Jisung finally left.
~
Jisung didn’t know how many hours had gone by since he had first set foot in the studio. After a quick warm-up, he had put on a playlist he had created years ago with Mark to freestyle and mess around, and had let himself get lost in the music.
It was such an exhilarating feeling, to have the rhythm of the song flow through your body, your limbs moving on their own without any previous thinking or hours spent drilling a choreography into muscle memory.
Jisung, privately because it was too embarrassing to say out loud, had always thought that his heart was a collection of pieces of everything he loved the most, everything that made him who he is. His parents, his brother, his friends, the fans, dancing.
(Jaemin.)
It had started out as a small thing, a small ember, something to do after school to keep him occupied. And little by little, he got more hooked up on it, asking his parents to let him practice more hours and try new styles. As the years went by, that small ember started becoming bigger and bigger, turning into a big fire that warmed him up whenever he danced.
Jisung was so focused on the music blasting through the room that he didn’t realise that someone had come in. It was only when the song ended that Jaemin started clapping. Jisung spun around startled, one hand clutching his chest. “Hyung! What are you doing here?”
Jaemin chuckled and came closer, his arm stretching out to hand Jisung a cold water bottle. “Well, since I knew that you would probably lose track of time and forget to eat dinner at a reasonable hour, I brought it to you.”
In Jaemin’s hand was a bag, most likely packed with one too many tupperwares and a plaid blanket sticking out on top. “And we are having a picnic here?”
“Yah, not here, I don’t want to eat while smelling sweat,” he jokingly scolded. “I thought we could go to the Han River.”
Despite his last sentence being a statement, Jisung could see a little bit of insecurity peeking through the almost-perfectly-crafted confidence that Jaemin always put on. He was nervous, Jisung realised.
“Sure, hyung.” He was smiling, because spending time with Jaemin was one of his favourite things to do, even if he felt his heart beating out of his chest 99% of the time. “Let me shower and we can leave.”
~
An hour later, Jisung was laying on a blanket gazing up to the sky, the millions of lights lighting up Seoul glinting on the waters of the river. He felt content, happy, his tummy full of delicious food and Jaemin by his side. The evening hadn’t been that much different than any other meal they have had together over the years, Jisung rambling about whatever new thing he had discovered while Jaemin listened to him with a fond smile on his face.
This time, however, Jisung had had to actively keep his mouth going, trying not to get too distracted by the way the wind danced on Jaemin’s hair — fuck, he was so beautiful — and how his eyes had never left Jisung’s lips.
Now, with him sprawled out and Jaemin sitting up, Jisung couldn’t see him, but he could feel the weight of Jaemin’s stare. Every time he tried to glance at him, though, the other was looking out into the never-ending skyline. It had been a weird couple of days, maybe it was the leftover adrenaline of being on tour, maybe it was the fact that they were truly alone, or maybe this was the only way it could ever end after years and years of build-up.
Jisung sat up slowly, his mind reeling and trying not to psyche himself out. He could do this, he had to try. The rustle of his clothes alerted the other of his movements, but Jaemin didn’t turn to face him fully. After taking one last deep breath, Jisung placed one hand on the blanket, his fingertips brushing against the other’s. His other hand went up to cradle Jaemin’s jaw. They were so close, so unbelievably close, their upper bodies aligned and moulded around each other.
“Jisung-ah?”
Jisung stopped moving when their noses were almost touching, the other’s breath hitting his mouth. He looked into Jaemin’s eyes, and they were like a whirlwind of emotions. Emboldened by the lack of rejection, he leaned in.
The moment their lips met, the ember on his chest roared into a full-blow wildfire. The first touch of their lips was soft, tentative, Jisung was still afraid that he had read it all wrong, but after a moment of shock, Jaemin let out a whine and pulled him closer. This time, their mouths came together just as gently but there was an underlying current of urgency, of desperation, seeping into their bodies. They kept on kissing and kissing, and, suddenly, Jaemin was running his tongue along Jisung’s lip, and slipped it inside his mouth when it opened in surprise, and Jisung couldn’t repress a groan as he pulled away.
He was panting, his hand coming up to his chest to make sure his heart was still there and hadn’t exploded and run away. After taking a moment to calm himself down, he gathered all the courage he had left and meet Jaemin’s eyes.
The other’s face was completely open for once, the immaculate mask he always wore nowhere to be seen. All of his emotions were painted on his eyes, his mouth. Jaemin’s lips were slightly parted, a little red and puffy from their kisses, and his eyes showed that unrestricted fondness that was always there when he looked at Jisung, but they were also brimming with want.
He looked breathtaking.
“Hyung—” Jisung had so much in his mind that he was at a loss for words. “I… I—”
Jaemin took his hand, softly caressing his palm with his thumb. His lips were pulled up into an encouraging smile, tender and sweet, but Jisung could see a hint of insecurity swimming in his eyes.
“I’m in love with you, hyung.”
Jaemin’s fingers stilled on his, his grip tightening for a second as his eyes glistened in the city lights.
“Say it again, please.”
The disbelief colouring his voice was unacceptable to Jisung so, with all the confidence he had learned to put on while on stage, he took Jaemin’s face into his hands. “I am in love with you, Jaemin-hyung.”
For a moment, they only looked into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world falling quiet and far away. Then, Jaemin’s face split into the most exuberant smile Jisung had ever seen, giggling as he pulled him closer. The force of the hug pulled them backwards, toppling over. When Jisung pulled back a little, it was Jaemin who cradled his face.
“I love you too, Jisung-ah.”
And he pulled him down in a show-stopping kiss, not a care in the world that they were out in a park and that they could be seen. Jisung didn’t care either really, he felt like he was on top of the world.
This kiss was more frantic, more urgent. Their lips collided together again and again, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Jisung’s hands were busy propelling himself upwards so as not to crush the other, but Jaemin wasn’t in such a predicament so he ran his hands all over him. At first, both his hands had been on Jisung's face, gentle and tender, but now one of his hands moved to his waist. The other, as their desperation and want grew and grew, wandered down to Jisung’s ass.
“Fuck,” Jisung moaned loudly when he felt Jaemin squeeze his buttcheek.
The volume of the moan startled them back, both looking into each other’s eyes before bursting out laughing. Yeah, making out while in public was probably not the best idea, especially if you are an idol.
They laid back down, Jisung on his back this time and Jaemin cuddled up to his side. As he looked up to the sky, faintly making out some lone stars shining through the city lights, Jisung smiled. The fire in his chest kept him warm, but the feel of Jaemin’s body on his kept him even warmer.