Archive of Our Own

“You’ve been fidgeting an awful lot for like, almost forever now,” Dongyoung remarks casually as he takes a sip of his white wine. The cabin crew were busily attending to serving lunch on board the flight, and Wooyoung hasn’t really done much save for poking at the filet steak sitting prettily on his plate. “Hey, that’s the good stuff. If you don’t want it, I am all for it,” Dongyoung says, tongue slightly out as he gestures to Wooyoung’s plate with his fork.

Wooyoung bumps him in the shoulder good naturedly. “Don’t talk bullshit,” he mutters, before quickly cutting a small chunk of the meat out and shoving it into his mouth before Dongyoung could do anything.

“Hey, in all seriousness. You seem unusually on edge today. What’s wrong? Is the idea of suddenly going to Paris so daunting to you?” Dongyoung’s eyes widen as he glances at Wooyoung, watching him work his way through the steak.

Not that Wooyoung had anxiety over flying. This was very, very far from being his first. Years in and he’d pretty much become accustomed to the frequent long haul, often red eye flights being a constant in his lifestyle. But there was something else.

“It’s not…sudden,” Wooyoung says, voice small between bites. That was the truth too. This trip was actually a culmination of months of very careful, deliberate planning and plenty of headache-inducing maneuvering involved, no thanks to the person who’d invited him to go over in the first place, who had a rather insane schedule.

Kim Hongjoong can be such an irritant sometimes, he thinks bristly as he chews on his steak a little bit loudly, the look on his face as though he was murdering the steak or something.

“Damn, the thing’s already dead,” Dongyoung laughs hollowly, now taking on the dessert that was just set in front of him by a smiling flight steward.

Wooyoung sighs. “I wonder what possessed me to say yes to this,” he mutters mostly to himself.

Dongyoung folds his arms, the hand with his fork pointing towards his screen. “Funny, I wonder the exact same thing,” he turns slightly to cast a sideways glance at Wooyoung, who is deliberately ignoring him in favor of his fruit cup. “Lighten up, would you?” Dongyoung taps Wooyoung on the shoulder a few times. “Many people would kill to be in your position, y’know. Not everyone can casually say, yeah, I’m just going to Paris for a few days.”

Wooyoung’s jaw twitches, and he doesn’t say a word. His lack of response makes Dongyoung all the more intrigued, and he leans over, resting an arm on Wooyoung’s armrest in curiosity. “Did Kim Hongjoong say something to you beforehand? Do I need to give him a pep talk or something?”

Wooyoung shoots Dongyoung an offended glare. “Of course he didn’t. And besides, I can handle him perfectly on my own.”

Dongyoung rolls his eyes. “Sure, says the one who’s rendered completely undone when Hongjoong treats you with even a bit of coldness and strictness.”

Wooyoung picks out a grape from his bowl of fruit, aiming it squarely towards Dongyoung’s face. “Shut the fuck up,” he says, eyebrows gathered in the middle of his face. Dongyoung, obviously having much experience with wrangling Wooyoung, doesn’t even do so much as flinch.

“Suit yourself,” Dongyoung hums, before going back to digging into his dessert and watching his movie.

Wooyoung shifts in his seat, twiddling his thumbs. For some reason, for the first time probably, he wants time to skip over everything so he can be back.

By the time the two of them land in Paris, it’s close to evening, and also close to the timing where Balmain’s show was slated to begin.

Dongyoung and Wooyoung decide to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant, choosing it purely because they were fatigued from such a long flight, the time difference starting to sink in for them, and also because they saw a bright green Tripadvisor recommendation sticker outside. That was more than good enough for them, and the waiter ushers them inside, the restaurant starting to swell with patrons.

It’s quite noisy with chatter, the diners mostly local, with wine glasses containing varied amounts of liquid sitting on their tables. Wooyoung finds himself rather intrigued with how the locals gesticulated when they spoke, and how they accented their words in French. It reminds him vaguely of the time where the group had gone on their world tour, and they received crash courses from their translator in French so that they could communicate with the fans. Maybe Wooyoung was romanticizing it a little since he was in Paris, but the variations in the words made it almost feel like he was in some kind of arthouse film.

Dongyoung uses the inbuilt lens in his Naver app to translate the menu, and they decide to get a few things to share. He even adds on a sharing platter of escargot, ignoring Wooyoung’s contorted expression. “It’s called cultural immersion,” Dongyoung gestures a little wildly with his hands, earning a choice eye roll from Wooyoung.

They’re being served the bread course when Wooyoung whips out his phone, nearly causing the thing to crash to the floor in his panic. “Shit,” he mutters. “It should be starting now.”

“The show?” Dongyoung asks, mouth full of bread. Wooyoung grabs a napkin, tossing it at his brother. “Yeah, and watch it, your mouth is raining crumbs. How gross.”

Wooyoung swipes about on his phone screen, clicking on the link that Hongjoong, or his manager had helped to send into ATEEZ’s group chat a while before, asking them to check it out if they were able to. Wooyoung has to wait a while, and he lowers the video quality as he was using his data plan to watch. Kim Hongjoong better be grateful, he thinks to himself as he watches the grey buffering symbol spin about a few times.

Wooyoung blinks at the camera flashes that go off on the screen, the livestream broadcasting first outside the venue, like how there would be a pre-show red carpet at the events they were all used to attending. Some celebrities begin piling out of their chartered cars, sharply dressed with megawatt smiles to wave at the audiences. The background is unusually noisy for a fashion show, which makes Wooyoung wonder if the French fans had gathered there to wait for Hongjoong and show their support. It makes his chest swell with pride a little, knowing they had such support.

Dongyoung leans over, and Wooyoung adjusts his phone so that the both of them could see the happenings clearly. Wooyoung recognizes some of the celebrities invited, and it makes him feel some type of way that Hongjoong would be rubbing shoulders with these people, along with the fact that Hongjoong had been personally invited by the one running the label himself. He - along with the others - had heard Hongjoong practically swoon over the label and Olivier enough times that heck, Wooyoung thinks he can pronounce Olivier’s last name perfectly with the accent by now, even. All of it made Wooyoung feel some type of way that he didn’t exactly want to put a word to just yet.

Rather abruptly, the background noise swells to deafening shouts and screams. Wooyoung and Dongyoung shift their focus from their dinner, eyes focused intently on the happenings onscreen. The stream becomes a bit blurry, and Wooyoung furrows his brow, tapping on the screen to try to adjust the stream’s quality. There’s a spot of red, and the cameras zoom in to reveal Hongjoong’s grand entry at the show.

Wooyoung slows down in the midst of trying to get out a piece of escargot from the shell, as he tries to make out what Hongjoong was wearing. He’s actually awed, the outfit fitting Hongjoong like it was made for him. He’s in a red and black jacket with beaded fringe, clutching a small black bag in hand. Wooyoung would be tempted to make fun of his hairstyle, but he has to give it to Hongjoong that it stands out, and it goes well with the black beret resting nicely on his head. He thinks he can understand why they call Hongjoong a Balmain Prince now.

“Hey, watch it or the food’s gonna drop on your phone,” Dongyoung says with a chuckle, making Wooyoung promptly close his mouth. Dongyoung snickers. “I was joking, dummy,” and Wooyoung’s gaze is threatening, which makes Dongyoung clear his throat and mutter awkwardly some comments on how cool Hongjoong looked.

Eventually, the camera pans to Hongjoong going inside the venue, making sure to wave to the fans with a smile in thanks. The security detail seem to be rushing him in and Wooyoung sets down his phone once Hongjoong has vanished off camera.

“That was pretty amazing,” Dongyoung says with a slow nod, dipping his bread into the olive oil vinaigrette mixture.

“Yeah, Hongjoong-hyung’s pretty amazing,” Wooyoung replies distractedly as he continues to attempt to separate the escargot from the shell.

“I meant the whole thing in general, but sure, Hongjoong isn’t that bad too,” Dongyoung says with a hint of teasing in his voice. He earns a swift kick to the shin from Wooyoung, and Dongyoung only laughs as he takes the escargot from Wooyoung, helping him with it so that he could eat.

In between dessert, they occasionally glance at the phone to check out what was happening inside the show. From time to time, they manage to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong seated at the front, standing out in his red jacket ensemble. There’s no sound as obviously they’re not mic'd up, but they can see Hongjoong making conversation with the guests seated nearby him. Next to him is a young woman with sharp features, and she has her phone out, asking Hongjoong to take selfies.

Wooyoung checks the comments floating across the screen, and the viewers identify her eventually as the singer Dove Cameron. Wooyoung nods slowly, recognizing the name. The two of them have quite the combined visual, he thinks vacantly as he watches them take photos, Hongjoong’s smile a bit sheepish. The photo would likely go viral thanks to their combined fanbases.

When the show actually starts, however, with the dimming of the lights and the music coming on, Wooyoung swipes to exit the app. “My battery’s gonna die,” he mumbles as he gets out his portable charger.

“Don’t want to see the show? See what Hongjoong’s been fussing about?” Dongyoung says, an eyebrow quipped.

“Nah,” Wooyoung hums, lifting his phone in front of his face as he opens his KakaoTalk app to ATEEZ’s group chat. He ignores the curious noise Dongyoung makes as he types, Hongjoong hyung looked very cool along with a single thumbs up.

Back in the comfort of their hotel room, Wooyoung continues to stare hard at his phone screen, reading the articles that have gone up about the Balmain show, switching between tabs to read the fan’s reactions on social media. His Explore feed is almost nothing but Hongjoong, with the occasional splash of Dove Cameron’s Instagram story of the selfie that she’d taken with Hongjoong at the show itself.

Did you actually stream the show??  Wooyoung swipes back to KakaoTalk, where some of the members were talking a little bit about the show earlier. Jongho’s the one who sent the question, with a moving sticker of a cartoon character in thought.

I did, he replies, and his message is received with a barrage of stunned emojis. Aren’t you in Paris right now? You mean you bothered to watch it all on your phone?

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. Duh, course I did. Not like I could just show up outside there, all to say hi and buzz off.

Aw, what stopped you? Seonghwa texts back almost immediately, and the back of Wooyoung’s neck tightens in irritation.

Y’all are awfully free, huh, Wooyoung fires back with several eye rolling emojis. All he gets is none of them taking him seriously, continuing to tease him at his expense.

He tosses his phone to the side of the bed, when Dongyoung has just exited the bathroom, toweling dry his damp hair. “Talking to the members? Or are you still busy staring at the millionth photo of Hongjoongie?” he says. Wooyoung looks up, gaze exhausted. “I’m going to shower,” is all he says as he grabs his sleep clothes from his bag.

“Wonder what’s up with him,” Dongyoung mumbles, shaking his head as he watches Wooyoung disappear into the bathroom.

In the morning, Wooyoung stretches when he wakes up, pressing his limbs into the soft sheets and taking in a long inhale. Eventually, he finds enough strength in himself to push himself off from the bed, going to the window. He presses a hand on the frame, taking in the sight of Paris above and below.

For today, he has the earlier half of the day for himself and Dongyoung to walk around, before they go to meet Hongjoong in the afternoon, the remaining half of the day saved just for him. Hongjoong has something work-related to attend to, which probably meant Balmain-related, before he could be free of his schedule to join the two of them for a half day out. Wooyoung squints as a ray of sunlight touches his face. Hongjoong should be grateful, he thinks to himself before stepping away from the window to get ready for the day.

It’s also autumn in Paris as it is in Seoul, and after checking the weather forecast on his phone he’s opted for a long coat and beanie to shield himself more from the occasional cold passing winds than the base temperature itself.

“Nice,” Dongyoung remarks as they’re about to head out the door to go for breakfast nearby. “Do you want me to take a picture?”

“Later,” Wooyoung says, pressing his beanie firmly down onto his head. Dongyoung helps him tuck away some of his flyaway hair, some of the blonde highlights stubbornly sticking out.

Once they’re outside, the weather feels good, though just a bit overcast with a cloud moving to cover part of the sun. The two of them take a leisurely stroll to the bistro that Dongyoung had searched up earlier. Wooyoung slides his hands into the pocket of his overcoat, looking around to take in the sight of Paris in the morning.

Small clusters of people are rushing to work, some on their phones with takeaway coffees clutched in their hands. Some chew on various pastries, multitasking as they weave their way through the streets and street corners. There is the occasional couple which passes by, and if only for a brief moment, it sends Wooyoung into a bit of a thought spiral, how it seemed like everyone else was falling in love around him, and he wondered if he was possibly falling behind.

An image then flashes into his mind - an all too familiar one, dressed in red and black, smiling radiantly. Wooyoung swipes at the air, willing the image away. Not now, he chides himself. Dongyoung looks at him oddly. “A fly got into your face or something?” he asks, somewhat concerned. Wooyoung shakes his head vigorously, feeling a bit dizzy from the rapid motion.

Wooyoung pushes the door open as they enter the bistro, a tiny bell ringing to mark their arrival. The staff at the counter greet them in rapid French with a slight smile, and Wooyoung tries to return the greeting, stumbling a little as it was rather early in the day. Dongyoung finds them a table by the window where a bit of the sun is coming in, and they can do some people watching.

Wooyoung leans against the window, tapping lazily at his chin as he allows himself to space out. The scene in front of him is almost picture perfect, sharply dressed Parisians passing him by with a myriad of expressions. Some walk their dogs of various shapes and sizes, others push their children in strollers while engaged in animated conversation. All of it makes Wooyoung feel some type of way, and feeling inspired, he takes out his phone to start snapping some pictures of whatever’s happening before him.

At some point, Dongyoung returns with a tray of pastries and two steaming hot coffees, the aroma filling Wooyoung’s nose pleasantly, reviving him from sleepiness. He takes the paper cup, cradling it carefully in his hands to take a slow, long sip. It’s quite robust, good for the early start. Dongyoung helps to tear a bit of pastry, insisting on feeding his brother.

“The only way to get you to eat some more fruit,” Dongyoung chuckles, watching Wooyoung chew on the freshly baked tart with pieces of fruit added in.

“It’s good though,” Wooyoung hums, wiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger.

“Yeah,” Dongyoung nods in agreement, moving along with the soft bossa nova playing in the bistro. “Sure is.” Dongyoung also takes out his phone, snapping the scenery outside. “Oh, did Hongjoongie say anything yet?”

Wooyoung snaps out from his little reverie, looking down to thumb through his phone. There are, sure enough, a few unread notifications from Hongjoong, with some photo files. He opens them, and Hongjoong’s sent him what look like photos snapped discreetly inside the Balmain offices. Some are of the ready-to-wear pieces, some footwear, and Wooyoung cannot resist laughing when there’s a semi-awkward selfie of Hongjoong with the Balmain logo in the background.

“What’s so funny?” Dongyoung wonders out loud, and he also snorts when Wooyoung shows him the awkward photo. “Hey, look, look,” Dongyoung cups his hand, trying not to spew crumbs all over. “Look what Hongjoong just said.”

You better not show that to anyone else, the angle looks so bad, Hongjoong’s replied, and Wooyoung can hear how urgent he sounds. Already too late for that, hyung, Wooyoung taps loudly, as Dongyoung covers his eyes, still laughing. Hongjoong sends back an angry sticker, but his annoyance is obviously ignored. Wooyoung swiftly changes the subject, asking him about their arrangement for later so as to reduce his wrath.

It takes a little while, and they decide that they could meet up, go to the Louvre and then take a stroll in the vicinity - it’s been some time since they’ve gone there anyway. Hongjoong sounds quite happy about the idea, knowing how much he enjoyed art.

Towards the end of their breakfast, Wooyoung’s manager comes over to remind him that they would also have cameras around to film YouTube content. Wooyoung listens intently while Dongyoung helps to finish the pastries.

“Does it feel awkward?” Wooyoung asks Dongyoung after their late lunch, as they make their way to the rendezvous point to meet up with Hongjoong. “Having the cameras pointed at us like this?”

“Nah,” Dongyoung shakes his head distractedly, staring down at his phone. “They censor my face out anyways, which is fine.”

At the particular street where he’s sent their location to Hongjoong, Wooyoung bounces on his feet, the air getting a little bit colder than earlier. He’s not sure if it’s the back to back coffees he’s been having, but his heart is racing more than usual, which was odd. He wonders what’s making him feel this nervous. For a moment, he worries - what if Hongjoong couldn’t find them, things like that.

His worries are however quickly quelled when he hears the familiar voice calling his name. When Wooyoung looks up, he can see a familiar figure appear in his view, hand waving dizzily at him. A smile forms on Wooyoung’s face as he waves back.

Hongjoong however, is clearly not alone. He appears to be accompanied by a mini posse of sorts, of both security and management. There is also a camera following him around, likely to document his meetings with Balmain and the events as well.

Dongyoung waves enthusiastically back in greeting, and Hongjoong grins. Once Hongjoong has made his way across the road, Wooyoung remarks, “Exactly how many people do you have with you?”

Hongjoong scoffs. “They’re all here to see you,” which earns him an eye roll from Wooyoung. The camera decides to catch some footage of Wooyoung, and he decides to indulge them with a few choice poses, which amuses the staff accompanying them.

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong says, tapping on Wooyoung’s shoulder. At this proximity, Wooyoung can smell his cologne - a pleasant scent that’s not too overwhelming but is very obviously a Hongjoong type of scent. “So, how’s Paris been for you so far? Been on any adventures?” He rubs at Wooyoung’s back, and again, Wooyoung finds the need to press down whatever’s making his heart race.

“We’ve just been chilling,” Wooyoung says, turning round to Dongyoung, who nods, in the midst of conversation with the managers. “Just eating, walking around. It’s quite relaxing, actually.”

“Anyone recognize you?” Hongjoong asks, glancing up at him. Their arms are now bumping against each other as they walk, Wooyoung’s heart feeling like it’s swimming.

“Nope, funnily enough,” Wooyoung shrugs. “It’s actually kind of nice.” Which was true. There was an interesting comfort that at least for a brief moment, he could enjoy some form of anonymity, to be another face in the crowd even if it lasted a short while. “Hey, how about you? I should be asking you, the one that everyone’s swooning over and calling Balmain Prince and all that stuff,” he chuckles.

Hongjoong sighs amusedly. “Honestly? The past few days have been so insane that I don’t think I’ve actually had the time to just sit down and let it all sink in for me.”

“Did you see my message?” Wooyoung says, reverting to his usual teasing ways as he could be around Hongjoong, a unique brand of impish.

“Which one?” Hongjoong asks, looking down at the cobblestone floors to make sure the heels of his shoes wouldn’t get stuck.

“I said you looked cool, hyung,” Wooyoung drawls. “That’s high praise coming from me and you know it.”

“Oh, you did? Wow, should we call that a miracle, Jung Wooyoung,” Hongjoong lightly pinches Wooyoung in the arm, and he groans loudly, before dissolving into giggles. “Did you watch the show?”

“Huh?” Wooyoung asks, a little distracted from the pinch. “Oh, um, not all of it. Just the start.”

“By the start,” Dongyoung calls from behind, “he just means he waited to see you appear, then he closed the tab.”

Wooyoung spins on his foot to shoot a death glare at his brother, as Hongjoong clutches his belly laughing. “Aw, so you waited just for me? That’s actually very sweet, Wooyoung-ah,” Hongjoong says, patting Wooyoung’s beanie as Wooyoung scowls like a cat that’s been drenched in water.

“He used his data too,” Dongyoung hums, smiling and ignoring Wooyoung who’s now starting to go pink in the face.

“Wow, until that extent? I should feel so touched that my members care for me this way, monitoring me so closely,” Hongjoong says, also looking at the camera that’s following them.

“Please edit all of that out,” Wooyoung says, his smile strained through gritted teeth.

“No, please don’t,” Hongjoong laughs. “This is like receiving treasure from Wooyoung, when he’s not teasing me, which is rare.” Wooyoung huffs, sliding his hands grumpily into his pockets as Hongjoong pats him comfortingly on the head.

The Louvre isn’t swarmed with tourists that particular day, which is quite a relief for all of them. Before they head in, Hongjoong and Wooyoung wait outside as the managers help to settle their tickets, the cameramen also using the time to change the batteries.

It’s that time of year where the sun’s descent is earlier than usual, so the late afternoon sun shines on the glass, radiating quite beautifully. From where he stands, the backlighting shows Hongjoong’s face well as he glances around to let himself be absorbed into the atmosphere and relative quiet of the exterior of the Louvre.

Wooyoung takes out his phone to snap some pictures of Hongjoong, unable to resist. Hongjoong notices it quickly, turning to Wooyoung and looking at him through narrowed eyes. “Did you snap an unglamorous photo of me?” he says, making Wooyoung snort back a laugh. “Course not, I wouldn’t dare.”

“Show me,” Hongjoong says and Wooyoung obliges. He makes a sound of approval when he sees it, and asks Wooyoung to send it to him later.

A small voice in the deep of Wooyoung’s heart whispers that he would rather selfishly keep this image for himself, because once Hongjoong receives it, his next course of action would be to upload it to their official Instagram and for the first time, Wooyoung doesn’t feel like he’s in a sharing mood. Once he realizes this, however, he’s struck with horror, just as the managers walk towards them with their entrance tickets in hand.

“Wooyoung-ah, everything all right?” one of the managers asks, looking mildly concerned.

“Ah, um, I’m fine,” Wooyoung manages out through a slight smile. The manager blinks back at him, before shrugging and handing them out their tickets.

Wooyoung isn’t exactly paying much attention to the audio guide that’s carefully explaining each piece to him, his focus now captured elsewhere.

Just in front of him, Hongjoong has one hand holding on to the radio unit, while he takes his time to observe each of the paintings. His eyes brighten when he finds a painting that particularly calls to him, pausing in front of it.

“Look at this,” Hongjoong gestures for Wooyoung to come over. Wooyoung squints at it, the description below it all written in French. He nods absently at it, as Hongjoong stands by the painting to absorb whatever the audio guide was telling him.

Wooyoung shifts his weight on his feet, before he’s distracted by the other people in the museum, pausing here and there at certain paintings. Then, he feels a tug on his sleeve - Hongjoong wants to look at something else.

He lets Hongjoong tug him along, and that same small voice from earlier whispers again traitorously, you would let him take you anywhere, everywhere.

Wooyoung swallows, wondering how screwed he was.

The pacing around gets tiring after a while, so Hongjoong beckons them to sit down on a bench facing a window where they could see a portion of the Louvre Pyramid. Hongjoong takes out his film camera, snapping a quick photo before any nearby security could come by.

He’s leaning back on the bench, arms stretched behind him, resting his weight on his hands. Wooyoung is keen to just watch Hongjoong like this, still, unmoving and focused.

“This is nice,” Hongjoong whispers. “Just being like this, sitting with you.”

Sitting with you, Wooyoung’s thoughts latch onto those words as he swallows. No, don’t do this to yourself, Jung Wooyoung. Don’t overthink.

Wooyoung turns swiftly back to the front, so that all he can see are the frames of the Louvre Pyramid. He tries to distract himself by counting how many shapes he could see in the pyramid, but he soon flinches when he feels something brush lightly against his fingers.

Without turning around, he glances downward, where he sees Hongjoong’s pinky brushing against his own. Wooyoung isn’t sure if it’s unintended, because of the lack of space, but then again, Hongjoong could always have moved his hand away if he’s bothered. But it’s the fact that Hongjoong doesn’t appear to be making an effort to move away at all, which is affecting Wooyoung.

Oh no, he thinks to himself. His heart is doing that treacherous thing again. It’s only because you’re getting suckered into the Paris mood, you idiot, he tries to persuade himself. Next to him, he can feel Hongjoong shift his posture into a seating position, as he turns to face Wooyoung.

Wooyoung slowly turns his head, to see Hongjoong glancing up at him, gaze unmoving. That was vaguely unsettling. “Do- do I have something on my face, hyung?” he points to his own face with a rather blank expression. Hongjoong laughs, eyes crinkling as he does.

“No, no you don’t," he murmurs, and now Wooyoung is tumbling into a proper freakout, because when did Hongjoong shift to be sitting so closely to him, their faces now seemingly getting closer and closer, then they’re inches apart, Wooyoung able to see the clear curve of Hongjoong’s lips, smell the lotion he uses on his face -

“Hey, guys?” The two of them pull away, an arm’s length apart when they hear the manager’s voice echoing down the corridor. “You in here?”

“Yeah, hyung,” Wooyoung half cups his mouth so that he’s heard. “We’re here.” He doesn’t want to look at Hongjoong, least of all right now. But from the corner of his eye, he feels as if something has pricked his chest when he sees the downward curve of Hongjoong’s lips.

The manager rushes in. “We’re all ready to move, if you are,” he says, glancing between the two of them. If there’s a kind of strange, unreadable feeling hovering in the air, the manager does not make any note of it. Hongjoong gets up first, managing a vague smile at Wooyoung to signal him that they should get going.

Fuck, Wooyoung thinks to himself. He’s now unsure if he’s just messed up, somehow.

Evening has come to Paris once they’ve properly exited the museum. There’s no time for the both of them to let themselves sink into acting awkward as the cameras are pointed at them, asking for how they feel about being in Paris together like this.

It’s quite a tortuous feeling, Wooyoung finds, having to pretend as though whatever had happened in the Louvre wasn’t anything and meant next to nothing, that it could just fade away into the autumn air. But years in this job and he’s learned to box away his complex feelings, compartmentalizing it until he couldn’t take it anymore.

To Wooyoung’s relief as well, the camera is recording them as they make the walk from the museum to wherever it is that they’re going for dinner, which according to Hongjoong was quite special. So when they answer the questions that they’re being asked, Wooyoung can safely avoid making eye contact with Hongjoong.

“I booked the place,” Hongjoong declares proudly to the camera. “I found the location, but Wooyoungie is going to pay for it.”

Wooyoung scoffs, starting to feel more like his usual self at the remark. “I’m going to be very annoyed if the food doesn’t turn out to be good,” he says largely to the camera.

Hongjoong sounds a little pained. “Well, even if the food isn’t good…”

Wooyoung makes a gesture. “Then, the view…?”

Hongjoong nods giddily. “You won’t be able to hate it. I’m actually very excited to see it for myself,” he adds chirpily. Wooyoung can’t help but soften at his elation.

The conversation then naturally evolves into the two of them entertaining the possibility future Parisian trips, and though Wooyoung can will himself to play along, he wonders exactly how much of it Hongjoong means genuinely, that this is a possible first of who knows how many. But then he sobers himself up, telling himself that there were cameras around too, and it’s easy to just put ideas out there, executing them another matter altogether.

He finds himself thinking back about the Louvre again, the sight of Hongjoong’s face inches from his own, remembering his scent at that exact moment. Just as he thinks he’s about to spiral, they reach the dinner venue.

Once Wooyoung realizes where and what exactly it is, he thinks he might pass out.

It’s a cruise. A damn Parisian cruise which will take them down the River Seine at night, no less. Wooyoung wonders if whatever cosmic forces at play that were responsible for all of this was just enjoying stringing him along for the ride.

Wooyoung lets Hongjoong go on ahead first, the staff welcoming the group of them aboard the cruise. It’s a little bit of a walk to their table, and Wooyoung can feel the boat slightly shift about on the water as they’re led to their seats.

Once they’re seated, the camera is pointed in their faces again and Hongjoong takes it upon himself to explain where they are, and what they would be doing on the cruise tonight. Wooyoung stares blankly past him, keen to focus on everything and anything else except for the person seated right next to him. Not that he could ever escape even if he wanted to. That stupid voice in his mind begins to accuse him again, and he takes a breadstick to chew on deliberately loudly to drown it out.

Wooyoung takes the chance to read the menu on the table, but he’s only able to understand that it would be a multiple course meal. Hongjoong turns to him, elbow resting on the table. “There’ll be entertainment later, too,” which only adds to the sinking feeling in Wooyoung’s stomach, him wanting this cruise to end as quickly as possible so that he could escape this slightly trapped feeling. He secretly wishes he could call San to yell at him, but right now, no one had the knowledge that he was having a full blown crisis over a certain Kim Hongjoong while they sailed down the River Seine in an unintentionally romantic fashion.

As they’re served the courses, there’s some nice string music playing in the background. Wooyoung turns sideways to look out the window, focusing distantly on the other boats also going down the Seine. He’s half focusing as Hongjoong occasionally breaks the silence to explain to the camera which major Parisian landmark they’ve just passed.

“Would be nice,” Hongjoong says towards the end of the last main course, “if we could bring all eight members here next time.”

Wooyoung, who’s been looking at his phone, having searched up this dinner cruise for himself, takes a quick look at Hongjoong to nod distractedly in agreement, before gazing back down on his phone. Tapping on the auto-translate function on his phone, his phone nearly slips out from his hands in shock. The cruise they were on was actually a cruise for couples, as it was clearly named a romantic cruise and dinner with closeup views of the River Seine. Wooyoung thinks he’s on the verge of an aneurysm when it all begins to sink in.

He wonders if Hongjoong actually knew what this cruise was when he first booked it, or if Hongjoong just casually searched up online about private scenic cruises in Paris which came with multiple course dinners. But to Wooyoung’s personal horror, neither possibility sounds better to him, no matter how much he thought about it. Everything about this was just adding up to more mess in Wooyoung’s mind - and combined with the near incident at the Louvre, his mind is conjuring storms now.

Wooyoung is forced out of his spiral yet again when dessert arrives. He recalls faintly there being two choices of the menu, and he isn’t too sure how to react when an Eiffel Tower made of chocolate is presented to them, decorated with rose petals no less. Now would be a great time for someone to knock him out cold with their fist, Wooyoung thinks.

“How on earth am I supposed to eat this?” Hongjoong asks, glancing at the camera as he holds his spoon awkwardly, not sure where to start. He then tries to attack it without his hands, bending down to try to take in as much as possible of it into his mouth.

For Wooyoung, who has to watch this very vivid image unfold in front of him, it’s gone to galactic levels of torture. He thinks he’s never going to be able to wipe the image of Hongjoong with his head down, lips parted as he tries to consume a large tower made of confectionery. Fuck, he doesn’t even know how he’s going to be able to look at Hongjoong with a straight face after this, even.

Whatever conniving cosmic forces were allowing this to happen, however, have at least a modicum of mercy because soon after that, Hongjoong decides they can just break apart the tower with the spoons, but after taking pictures of course. The entertainment segment also begins, and Wooyoung gets out his phone, ready to take some pictures of the musicians who have positioned themselves a short distance from the patrons’ tables.

In the middle of one of the pieces, Hongjoong takes a quick look over at Wooyoung, who seems quite absorbed in videoing the performance. He considers for a moment, before a mischievous smile forms on his face and he’s got his hands in front of Wooyoung’s camera lens, clapping and blocking his view.

Wooyoung, however, doesn’t bother to move - neither does he bother to snap something witty back at Hongjoong. Instead, something about the way Hongjoong was smiling has disarmed him, and all he can do is smile dumbly back. He can feel the way his own lips curl, and perhaps once this footage goes online, thousands of people were probably going to make fun of him, but he finds himself unable to resist doing otherwise.

At one point, he even bursts into uninhibited laughter at Hongjoong’s actions, but he thinks by now that he can’t find it in himself to care, really. Hongjoong decides to switch things up, from trying to use his hands to block Wooyoung’s view, to leaning in and making kittenish poses at the camera, with cute peace signs and all. Wooyoung grins widely as he shifts his camera angle to capture as many frames of Hongjoong as he can. Some of it, he thinks, would make excellent blackmail material, knowing that both of them were by now quite buzzed also from the wine they’d been drinking throughout dinner.

Behind and around them, there’s a sudden excited buzz of chatter, and amidst the French, Wooyoung can pick out the words Eiffel Tower, which probably meant that they were getting close. Through the inbuilt sound system, the staff on the boat also repeats that they would soon be passing the Eiffel Tower, asking the patrons to get ready their cameras.

The cabin darkens as they draw near to the Eiffel, and Wooyoung’s got his phone up, snapping as many pictures as he can. Around him is pitch darkness so that the passengers can see the lights clearly, but then Wooyoung can feel what seems like a weight on his shoulder, then something like nuzzling against him. He turns a little to the side, careful not to move too sharply, when he can smell Hongjoong’s cologne.

Hongjoong was leaning on him - no, resting his head on his shoulder, to be clear.

Wooyoung stays still in his seat, and he thinks he’s probably never been so still in his whole life. Hongjoong rests his head there for a while, and almost as quickly as he’s done that, the lights begin to come up in the cabin and Wooyoung feels Hongjoong part from him.

He almost feels like he misses it. As if he feels emptier now. Wooyoung swallows back the feeling, taking another sip of his wine. Hongjoong smiles at him, and Wooyoung says to the camera, “this is totally my style,” gesturing to the dim cabin that was slowly lighting up once more.

“Let’s make a toast, then,” Hongjoong suggests, Wooyoung raising his glass to clink against his. He takes a longer sip of his drink this time, hoping it would help to wash down all the complicated things he was feeling, like a fountain rising inside him.

At this point, Wooyoung debates within himself whether he should accept the increasingly loud fact that was becoming evident to him: that he was falling for Kim Hongjoong.

When they’re getting off the boat, Wooyoung is quiet, and of course Hongjoong, knowing him for years now, can read him when something feels off. “You alright, Wooyoung-ah?”

Wooyoung swallows, tasting bitterness in his mouth. “Mm, yeah, hyung.”

“Indigestion? Too much food?” Hongjoong asks, hand coming up to lightly rest on his forearm.

No, none of that, Wooyoung thinks miserably. It’s you, but I can’t fucking say it. I’ll probably never.

“Have a good night’s rest, yeah? I’ll see you once I’m done with the presentation, ‘kay,” Hongjoong says softly, pulling Wooyoung in for a slightly awkward half hug. In the dim light, Wooyoung cannot be exactly certain if he can feel the ghost of Hongjoong’s lips barely touching the corner of his face.

In the darkness of the hotel room, Wooyoung tosses and turns in his bed, the sheets rustling rather loudly as he does.

“Wooyoung-ah,” a sleepy voice calls from the bed next to him. “Are you alright? I can hear you over there.”

Wooyoung’s throat bobs, his eyes feeling sore. His head hurts too, though he’s downed a lot of water after returning from dinner. “I don’t know, hyung,” he replies miserably.

There’s some rustling and strained noises from the bed next to him, and Wooyoung curls further into himself when he feels his bed sink down with an added weight. Dongyoung begins to tap him on the back soothingly, as though time had rewinded and they were back to the days of sharing rooms with cartoon stickers on the walls in Ilsan.

“You can talk to me about it,” Dongyoung whispers, patting Wooyoung gently on the head. “Hyung is here for you, you know that.”

Wooyoung sighs. “I’m really not sure if I can.”

There’s a slight pause, when Dongyoung tosses in a curveball and says, “this is about Kim Hongjoong, isn’t it?”

Wooyoung’s breath catches audibly in his throat - there was no way he could run from it, and he wants to hit himself for being so obvious.

“You know, you aren’t as hard to read as you’d like to think, Wooyoung-ah,” Dongyoung says, still patting him at a steady, soothing rhythm.

“Am I, now,” Wooyoung mutters dryly.

“Mm hmm. But the only reason why I can tell, is because ever since we got here, you’ve gotten quite mopey, more than usual. Normally, you’d be so excited, especially around Hongjoongie. You’d always wanted to get some kind of reaction from not just him, but you’d do that to the rest too. So now, I wonder what’s eating you, and what’s changed. I just hope he didn’t do anything,” Dongyoung says.

Wooyoung has never felt so laid bare in his life. And this exact person in the room was one of the few in his life that he could never try to lie to even if he wanted.

“I think…” he says, swallowing anxiously. “I might be in love. Key word being might.”

“Ah,” Dongyoung says, nodding. “I think I would scratch out the word might, though, but you know your heart best.”

“You don’t sound the least bit surprised, hyung,” Wooyoung mutters.

“I’ve never had reason to. In fact, it all makes complete sense. You’ve always kind of had this strange pull towards him.”

“I do not,” Wooyoung splutters indignantly.

“You do,” Dongyoung chuckles, but it’s not mocking. “It’s evolved over time, from a kind of ‘school kid pulling at the pigtails of their crush’ kind of dynamic, to one where you want his respect, where you want nothing more than him to spare you a glance.”

“Wow,” Wooyoung drags out the sound. “You should be a shrink. Or mind reader. Or both.”

Dongyoung laughs heartily at that. “No, it’s only because I know you so well, my dear little brother,” he ruffles Wooyoung’s mildly damp hair affectionately.

“I’m not going to do anything about it, though, before you ask,” Wooyoung declares, knowing how his older brother would respond.

Dongyoung makes a mildly shocked noise. “You’re not? Jung Wooyoung, not running after what’s on his heart? I’m actually stunned, Wooyoung-ah. Now I want to know why not.”

“Because,” Wooyoung says with a tired groan, “it’s Kim Hongjoong we’re talking about. No other explanation is necessary.”

“So what if he’s Kim Hongjoong?” Dongyoung says, rolling his eyes. “He’s just a man, like you and I.”

Wooyoung rubs at his face, groaning even more. “You don’t get it, hyung. Hongjoong-hyung is… he’s…him. I don’t know how else to put it in words. It’s not so simple.”

“Oh, but I actually think it is,” Dongyoung retorts almost immediately.

“Prove it,” Wooyoung snaps back.

“I’m not going to spoon feed you all the answers to life, Wooyoung-ah,” Dongyoung starts. “What I want you to do is to think about everything for a moment. Everything that has led to this point. Think about where you are, and Hongjoong who asked you.”

Wooyoung sniffs. “We almost - had a moment, by the way. In the Louvre.” He winces as soon as the words escape him, not really wanting that to have come out.

“The actual fuck, Wooyoung-ah. And you tell me you’re not going to do anything? Are you actually out of your senses?” Flustered, Dongyoung suddenly moves, jostling the both of them, and he catches Wooyoung before he can fall off.

“Like I said,” Wooyoung says through gritted teeth, “it’s not that simple.”

To Wooyoung, it really wasn’t. They had years and years of history going back, and how was it that now all these feelings were making themselves known, that was the question of the hour. Plus they worked together and lived together too. The last thing Wooyoung wanted was for his feelings to complicate all of that, which they worked so hard to build up to this point.

“You’ve never really seen how he looks at you, have you,” Dongyoung says somewhat accusingly. “Because I have eyes.”

“And I am saying,” Wooyoung says, tired of arguing with his brother as he flips over to face the opposite way, “that you’re probably just seeing things through a Paris lens.” He closes his eyes, but sleep takes its sweet time to come to him.

Wooyoung feels utterly terrible when he gets up the next day, but unfortunately for himself he has no luxury to mope in bed. He’s got about an entire day's worth of things to do, what with needing to shop for his family and the other members, on top of meeting Hongjoong later for dinner.

Hongjoong had texted him as soon as he got up, having risen early to get ready for the Balmain presentation event. He suggests that maybe after dinner, they should go live, do a Topaz broadcast for the fans since it’s been a while.

Wooyoung would rather say no, but since technically they wouldn’t be completely alone, meaning he wouldn’t need to confront himself and his burgeoning feelings - it would be marginally tolerable.

Dongyoung knows better than to aim any teasing jabs at his brother today, seeing how he looked like he was going through an entire ordeal at once. Instead, Dongyoung drags him along for a hearty and filling breakfast, which kind of cheers him up a bit.

After breakfast, they decide to take another stroll around, and Dongyoung decides to get them booked on a city bus tour to take in more views of the city. Some fans recognize Wooyoung along the route, but they’re nice enough to simply wave and greet him with excited smiles, before going on their way.

They stop by the shops, and as they walk, inevitably they pass a Balmain store. Wooyoung pauses before the glass display, the one outfit on display reminding him too much of Hongjoong. He turns away, feeling a spike to his chest, walking on silently. Dongyoung trails behind, choosing to stay quiet.

After going through a bit of a frenzy to get things for their parents, and for the members as well, they decide to park themselves at a corner cafe to recharge. Dongyoung sets the shopping bags down on the empty chair between them, before going in to help them order.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung jolts upright in his seat when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. There’s a single reminder for an event there - the Balmain presentation. He frowns, deliberating whether or not he should bother watching it. He checks the time - and chances were the other members back home would be awake at an unearthly hour to support Hongjoong too. Letting out a tired sigh, Wooyoung opens up his messages, searching for the streaming link.

Just as he opens the link, the video opens to the image of Hongjoong having his photos taken. Shit, he looks good, Wooyoung thinks helplessly. The look is a contrast from the seemingly softer look he’d gone for at the fashion show, his hair now gelled upward, wearing dark shades and a sleek black jacket. It’s monochrome, but Hongjoong manages to stand out either way.

The more Wooyoung watches, the more he feels like he’s being pulled deeper and deeper into an enormous, unending pit of quicksand. His lips purse into a tight frown.

“What’s eating you now?” Dongyoung asks as he sets down the tray. “Oh,” he nods knowingly, seeing the image on the screen. They then watch as Olivier makes an appearance to greet his invited guests, and when it’s Hongjoong’s turn to greet him, he pulls him into an enthusiastic, warm and genuine hug that Wooyoung cannot help but soften at the sight.

Hongjoong must be over the moon, he thinks, meeting his hero up close like this, his hero having almost the same awe for him just as he did. This, he thinks rather bitterly, must be what’s better suited for Hongjoong, someone who can sit with him up in the stars. In the grand scheme of things, Wooyoung wonders what his role might be.

Dongyoung hands him his coffee wordlessly, Wooyoung muttering a quick thanks as he continues to watch the stream.

“Hey,” Dongyoung says, forcing Wooyoung to look up from his phone screen. “I just realized I forgot to stop by the Lego store. Wanna get something huge for Kyungmin?”

Wooyoung adjusts his posture, thinking for a moment, before he finally smiles, his first real one of the day. “Sounds good, hyung.”

Dongyoung beams, and they’re soon off on their way, making a beeline to buy their brother a generous gift.

Just after sundown, Hongjoong texts Wooyoung, apologizing that he would be just a bit late as he was caught in the evening traffic. Wooyoung texts back a curt reply, telling him not to worry about it.

The rest of them are already in the restaurant - an Italian place, interestingly, of all places to be in Paris. It has a cozier, more casual feel than the other places, definitely less intimidating than that River Seine cruise they took days ago.

They have a table tucked in a corner behind shelves of wine bottles. While waiting for Hongjoong, Wooyoung’s already ordered some small plates to share, feeling hungry from a day of gallivanting around Paris with his brother.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hongjoong mutters apologetically, nearly tripping over his feet as he weaves his way to take the seat next to Wooyoung, flush against the wall. Wooyoung tries not to visibly react at the feeling of Hongjoong wiggling so close to him. “Traffic was terrible.”

“Not surprised,” a manager says. “Plus we’re so close to the weekend, too.”

“Have you ordered?” Hongjoong turns to Wooyoung as he keeps away his sunglasses.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers shortly. As Hongjoong settles in, a waiter filling his glass with wine, one of the staff members gets ready the camera to record them.

Wooyoung takes it as his cue to slip back into his so-called more usual mode, forcing him out of his moping. When he sees the red light flash on the camcorder, he wears his best smile. “Did you know, once again I was waiting desperately for Hongjoong-hyung,” he says, dragging his words out for the camera.

“Hey,” Hongjoong lightly taps him on the shoulder. “You can’t say desperately, and besides, I saw you having a lot of fun,” he casts a wary sideways glance at Wooyoung, who shakes his head insistently.

“I didn’t,” he says with a stubborn smile.

“I heard rumors, though,” Hongjoong retorts, trying to pick up a piece of bread which falls unceremoniously on the table. Wooyoung, despite himself, begrudgingly helps to pick it up, placing it on Hongjoong’s plate swiftly, not seeing Hongjoong’s eyes rest on his side profile.

“Your brother told me all about it,” Hongjoong adds, looking over at Dongyoung for help, who just shrugs with a relaxed grin.

“That I was waiting like a puppy?” Wooyoung says, feeling in a bit of a jesting mood.

Hongjoong chuckles. “What you did while you were waiting,” and after that, they fall back into a silence which is more companionable than awkward.

Because the camera is rolling, Wooyoung makes it a point to emphasize that he’d viewed the presentation event earlier in the day.

“I told hyung,” Wooyoung says between bites of food, “that you looked very cool. Then hyung asked who that was.”

“I looked different for sure,” Hongjoong says with a sheepish smile, glancing first at Wooyoung, and then at the camera. “Different than at the fashion show.”

Their large pizza arrives, and they’re back into that companionable silence once more.

They drive to the Eiffel Tower after their dinner, wanting to burn off their dinner with an unhurried stroll around the area.

“Time sure flies,” Hongjoong says to the camera, Wooyoung standing nearby watching him talk about his feelings of coming for Paris Fashion Week. “It’s my last day in Paris, and we’re beneath the Eiffel Tower,” he says, casting a glance at the tower, all lit up. He looks wistful, maybe just a little forlorn, and Wooyoung doesn’t blame him for feeling that way, seeing as he’d experienced many firsts on this trip.

When he expresses his hopes for the future, Wooyoung continues to watch him intently. Dongyoung sidles up to him, and Wooyoung jolts, nearly dropping his phone in shock.

“You still have plenty of time,” Dongyoung hums, sounding a bit more cryptic than usual.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Wooyoung says, pretending to concentrate on his phone.

“Didn’t you just hear him? Still got yourselves two days in Paris,” Dongyoung shrugs, resting a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder. “I say, seize the moments.”

Wooyoung turns to narrow his eyes at his brother. “And I think you’ve inhaled far too much of the Parisian air, you’ve gotten all cheesy. I should tell this to hyungsunim, ask her to get you to bring her here, just the two of you next time.”

That elicits a hearty chuckle from Dongyoung. “Sure I will. We could make it a double date trip,” he says, singsonging.

“What double date nonsense are you spouting,” Wooyoung glares at his brother. Just then, one of the staff comes up to Wooyoung, asking him to get into the shot, as they wanted to record both him and Hongjoong together. He makes a neck slicing gesture at Dongyoung when Dongyoung winks at him for a second too long.

Wooyoung steps into frame, and the staff ask him to share about how he’s felt about this rather brief trip. He says that he wishes for two more days in addition to what they have, because it would be perfect. Hongjoong nods in agreement.

Suddenly feeling like he wants to get back at Hongjoong in some way, he suggests to Hongjoong that they should do their Topaz hand sign. Hongjoong is already reeling backwards, gaze shying away from the camera. He presses his palm to his face as Wooyoung gets things started. They eventually push through the mortifying pain, making it through the hand sign and slogan, Wooyoung waving his hand at the camera.

Once the camera shuts off, the staff trying their hardest to not dissolve into snorts and laughter, Hongjoong walks back to bend over, pressing his hands to his knees in embarrassment.

“C’mon, hyung,” Wooyoung says. “Didn’t you also say you wanted us to go live together?”

Hongjoong stands up abruptly at that. “Oh shit, yeah, I almost forgot.”

“Unless you’ve changed your mind?” Wooyoung says, ignoring the way Dongyoung was looking at him with displeased eyes.

“No, no,” Hongjoong clears his throat. “Let’s head back to mine,” he says tiredly. “It’s for the fans, after all.”

“Wow,” Wooyoung can’t help but marvel once they’re in Hongjoong’s room. “They sure set you up really nicely, huh.”

Hongjoong nods, smiling as he goes to pour water for them to drink, having had enough wine at dinner and wanting to be a little less buzzed before they went live. “Yeah, they’ve been nothing but generous throughout. I’m very thankful.”

The manager in the room hands them the work phone, letting Wooyoung take his time to tap in the settings for the live. He finds himself struggling to think of a title, but before he can key in something, Hongjoong’s taken the phone from him, and of all of the many emojis that could possibly be used on the keyboard, he had to choose the one which resembled an engagement ring of all things. Wooyoung exhales, steeling himself. He had to keep it together for the fans, probably for the next hour or so.

“Why’d you pick that?” he asks Hongjoong, who hands him a cup of water.

Hongjoong shrugs casually. “It looked the most like a topaz, I guess.”

Wooyoung really wants to argue back, but the manager assisting them is already cueing them that the livestream was about to begin. They manage to switch to professional mode, watching the number of viewers steadily rise and the comments begin to stream in.

Not surprisingly, the fans are delighted to see Topaz together in Paris, no less. There are plenty of comments congratulating Hongjoong on his first fashion week foray, which makes Hongjoong grin widely. Wooyoung looks over at him, unable to resist smiling at how delighted he looked to see the fans supporting him so overwhelmingly.

They talk about a variety of things, and eventually, the topic of Harry Potter comes up, and both of them show their interactive wands proudly, making up their own new Topaz greeting on the spot.

After some time, the manager signals to them that they could wrap it up so that they could rest. They take their time to thank the fans, Hongjoong especially grateful to the fans who showed up at the fashion show to support him.

Wooyoung feels like he can relax a little after the livestream has ended, but as he’s about to get up to leave, he feels a soft touch to his wrist.

“Wanna hang out a little longer?” Hongjoong asks with a small smile.

Wooyoung swallows. Part of him thinks he could so easily say no, that he could cook up some kind of excuse to escape - but the other part which sounds strangely a lot like his brother’s voice, tells him to stay.

He eventually gives way to the latter. “Sure, hyung,” he says.

The manager bids them goodnight, telling them to not stay up too late and have a proper rest considering how hectic the past few days had been. Once he leaves, closing the room door firmly shut, Wooyoung sits back down on the couch, not sure what to do with himself.

Hongjoong hands him his cup of water. “Let’s make a toast, Wooyoung-ah. To Paris,” he grins, and Wooyoung obliges. “To Paris,” he says, smiling weakly as he takes a gulp of water.

“Did you have a fun time?” Hongjoong asks, hand coming up to rub circles in Wooyoung’s shoulder. Not this again, Wooyoung thinks, dreading that familiar feeling that was returning to bite him.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Wooyoung mutters, glancing down at his cup of water, unsure where else to look.

Hongjoong laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. “Hey, that doesn’t sound convincing at all. That won’t do, then. We’ll have to come back next time. Just the two of us, so that we can have even more fun,” he says, tapping at Wooyoung’s back.

Now, something in Wooyoung’s mind begins to unravel. He looks at Hongjoong, who looks rather taken aback at how unusually intense his gaze looks. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, hyung.”

Hongjoong blinks, eyebrows gathering in the middle of his face. “What do you mean by that, Wooyoung-ah? Have you ever known me to say things I don’t mean?”

Wooyoung huffs, feeling like everything in his heart was coming apart at the seams. “I don’t know, hyung. The whole time I feel like I’ve been strung along around Paris, from the Louvre, to the stupidly romantic night cruise, then now being here…” he rubs at his head, the frustration obvious on his face.

Hongjoong tilts his head, glancing down to try to get Wooyoung to meet his eyes. “Wooyoung-ah.”

Wooyoung doesn’t budge. “Wooyoung-ah,” he says, now placing a hand on his arm.

Again, Wooyoung remains stubbornly still.

“Wooyoung-ah,” Hongjoong says a third time, this time cupping the sides of Wooyoung’s face with his hands, so tenderly that Wooyoung is now forced to look him in the eyes. His expression is so soft that it makes Wooyoung’s chest ache. He thinks he can’t take any more of this, and he wants so badly to be put out of this misery.

Until he feels a warm pair of lips on his own.

Wooyoung blinks in shock, his eyes staying open as he sees Hongjoong lean in, eyes closing as he kisses him. When he pulls back, a pensive smile forms on his lips. “Do I seem like I mean it now?”

Wooyoung pouts. “Terrible. Mean hyung. That’s a low blow.”

Hongjoong laughs heartily. “Wooyoung-ah, please, hear me out. Why else would I have asked you to fly all the way out here to Paris, to spend time with me for a few days? When I myself know I have a crazy schedule and have little time for rest, but I still wanted you to occupy those pockets of time. Why do you think I would do that, Wooyoung-ah,” he says, now taking Wooyoung’s hands into his own. All Wooyoung can helplessly think is how warm the touch feels.

“Dunno,” Wooyoung blurts. “I’m no mind reader.”

Hongjoong leans in again. “Because you’re the only one that’s been on my mind, Wooyoung-ah,” he murmurs. This time, Wooyoung’s eyes flutter shut when they meet in the middle, and he returns the kiss, relaxing into Hongjoong’s arms.

When they pull apart, Wooyoung’s lips twitch as he tries with his best effort to fight back a smile.

“So, Wooyoung-ah. How about you? Where’s your heart?” Hongjoong asks, fingers tracing over Wooyoung’s knuckles.

Wooyoung’s expression goes solemn as he takes their joined hands to rest on his chest. “Feel it for yourself, hyung,” he says, and Hongjoong’s eyes widen.

“Whoa,” Hongjoong muses. “That’s…something.”

“You drive me nuts, you know that?” Wooyoung pouts again, and Hongjoong finds the sight so endearing that he leans in to press a kiss onto Wooyoung’s cheek.

“Mm, I might have heard a rumor,” Hongjoong hums.

They stay in the quiet for a while, just enjoying these warm, blossoming feelings. “How long?” Hongjoong asks, lips curling into a sly smile.

“Dunno,” Wooyoung shrugs. “I think I’m in the middle. Don’t know where it began.” He flushes a little at the admission, his subconscious finally able to surface.

Hongjoong laughs, letting Wooyoung pull him into his arms. “I think it’s the same for me, but I think it all clicked for me at the Louvre.”

Oh, Wooyoung remembers. Now, he can ask what’s been gnawing at him. “Did you mean to… that day…” he blurts, not so able to string his words together.

“Kiss you?” Hongjoong fills in his sentence. “Yes, but I had a feeling I should wait a bit longer. If I had done so then, I doubt that things could become the way they were now,” he murmurs.

Which was true. Now was a much better timing, Wooyoung thinks, feeling like he had more possession of his senses.

“You’re thinking awfully loudly,” Hongjoong says after not hearing a peep from Wooyoung for a while. “Are you worried?”

“Yes,” Wooyoung says, feeling like his heart was now out of its cavity and resting on his sleeve for Hongjoong’s taking.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Hongjoong sits up, turning to face Wooyoung. “I mean that, like everything else I’ve said.”

Wooyoung pauses for a while, letting Hongjoong’s words sink in.

“Good,” Wooyoung murmurs, before he leans in more confidently this time, savoring the way he could feel Hongjoong smile against his lips. “Because it’s the same for me too.”