Archive of Our Own

one.

Burning the midnight oil again?

Wooyoung’s all tucked snugly into bed, his room pitch dark save for the light radiating from his phone screen. He frowns at the KakaoTalk conversation that he has open.

The bed feels colder than it’s supposed to, and though Wooyoung really wants to remedy that, the person whose company he craves at the moment isn’t exactly available.

Yep, have to tighten these loose ends, is all he gets in reply. Wooyoung huffs, blowing his long fringe from his face. Sure, he could understand Hongjoong’s workaholic tendencies at times, but also, more often than not, he had good reason to worry about Hongjoong and whether or not he was getting enough rest.

And of course, Wooyoung’s heard some samples of the stuff he was working on, boyfriend privileges affording him that luxury which few had access to. Some were kept in the safety of their encrypted messages, while others he had heard personally in the small studio room reserved for Hongjoong’s use, often having his listening sessions while in Hongjoong’s arms.

This won’t do, Wooyoung thinks to himself. Hongjoong’s been living like a hermit for close to a week now, a week too long where Wooyoung couldn’t so much as half hug him, which was kind of an atrocity in his book. He sits up in bed, an idea forming in his mind.

If he couldn’t get Hongjoong to come back, he could make himself go over to Hongjoong. Genius, he thinks, grinning to himself. Wooyoung tiptoes out of bed, not wanting to wake the others at this time - they needed their rest too. He manages to sneak out the door, and makes the journey alone to the one place he knows Hongjoong would be.

The building is deathly quiet, of course, considering the time of night when Wooyoung arrives. There are only a few lights on, and it’s just a little bit unsettling - vaguely reminding Wooyoung of those times where they had to film variety show segments that imitated the settings of haunted houses. He presses the elevator button vigorously, willing it to come down faster as his eyes dart uneasily around.

Wooyoung lets out a soft, long exhale of relief once he reaches the floor that Hongjoong is on. He takes careful, light steps along the corridor, as though on a stealth mission. There are a few faint whispers - some of the Edenary team were probably also still around working into the night as well on other projects.

He peeps into the door and sure enough, he’s greeted with a sight that he’s missed, a familiar back view he’s longed to be near. Wooyoung doesn’t even bother to knock, turning the knob and letting himself in.

The chair by the monitors turns with an urgent creak, and Hongjoong nearly falls off his chair when he sees Wooyoung of all people standing in front of him, in a gray hoodie and the usual sweatpants that he sleeps in.

“Young-ah,” Hongjoong hisses. “What on earth are you doing here at this hour? You should be back in the dorm sleeping.”

Wooyoung pouts, planting himself on the couch next to the recording equipment and Hongjoong’s setup. “I should be saying the same to you, hyung.”

Hongjoong lets up a fitful cough, clutching the armrest of his chair. “I’m working, Wooyoung-ah,” he says, clearly trying to justify himself. “It’s important, you should understand that.”

Wooyoung stubbornly gets up from the couch, planting himself squarely into Hongjoong’s lap, the older man letting out a strained grunt as he feels the weight of Wooyoung on him. “Hey, what are you doing? How will I work like this,” he grumbles, but his hands come to rest on Wooyoung’s, who has his arms wrapped round his waist almost like a seatbelt.

“Exactly,” Wooyoung says, nuzzling his head against Hongjoong, who’s making noises of complaint. “This way I can get you to take a break.”

Hongjoong lets out an exasperated sigh. “You know this won’t stop me.”

“Oh yeah,” Wooyoung retorts, eyes narrowing in that familiar way which Hongjoong recognizes whenever Wooyoung feels challenged to do something. “Take this,” he jabs his fingers into Hongjoong’s side, trying to tickle him.

“Ow, Wooyoung-ah,” Hongjoong says, trying to bite back laughter so that he wouldn’t disturb everyone else on the same floor. “Alright, alright, I’ll pause. For a few minutes.”

Wooyoung pouts at him. “Still not enough,” he whines.

Eventually, Hongjoong settles for patting him soothingly on the back, the action a little bit awkward. He shifts the chair closer, trying not to jostle Wooyoung in his lap so that he wouldn’t fall off. It takes him a bit longer but eventually he’s close enough to his desk. Hongjoong gnaws on his lips thoughtfully for a moment, hands hovering over his keyboard and mouse, Wooyoung clutching onto him like a koala.

“Hey, Wooyoung-ah,” Wooyoung hums, resting his chin on Wooyoung’s head, slightly bent as he’s leaning against Hongjoong’s chest.

“Mm?” Wooyoung murmurs, face pressed against Hongjoong’s collarbone.

“Wanna…listen to something?” Hongjoong says, eyes fixed on his screen, staring at the many folders on the desktop. “I actually have some ways to go about it, but I think this is pretty close to what I want it to be.”

At that, Wooyoung perks up, turning halfway in Hongjoong’s lap so that he could see the screen and not block Hongjoong. “Of course I would, hyung,” Wooyoung says, all fondness. “Where do I…” he squints at the screen, cursor flying about as he clutches the mouse.

“Here,” Hongjoong points towards a certain corner of the screen.

Wooyoung leans in closer, not sure whether his eyes are being tricked. The filename that Hongjoong’s pointed out to him says my_baby.mp3.
He turns to Hongjoong, mouth twisting in confusion. “I don’t get it, hyung,” he says, shrugging.

“Just click on it,” Hongjoong says plainly, nodding. So Wooyoung does, and he stills in Hongjoong’s hold, wrapping his arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders. The instrumental begins softly, reminiscent of a lo-fi pop song. Wooyoung purses his lips as he focuses on the lyrics, but when it comes to a certain segment, his eyes widen, mouth parting in surprise.

Sly as a fox, creeping into my heart the first day our eyes met…

“Hyung?” Wooyoung says, voice coming out as a squeak. “What is this?”

Hongjoong lets out a warm chuckle, pulling Wooyoung closer to press a kiss to the corner of his jaw. “It’s rather early, but happy birthday, my baby,” he hums. Hearing that endearment, Wooyoung covers his mouth to muffle his unbridled laughter.

“Gosh, hyung,” Wooyoung says, turning to look at Hongjoong. “Didn’t think you had it in you to be a cheeseball. Then again, you wrote about proposing marriage, all those years ago.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, but his expression is warm. “Do you like it?”

Wooyoung’s smile is bright, oh so bright, as he leans down to meet Hongjoong in the middle.

“I love it - and you. Thank you, hyung.”

two.

Wooyoung is half on the verge of closing his eyes and half awake in the car, distracting himself with his phone as he swipes his thumb along the screen, refreshing every second for updates. They’re all on their way to the airport to catch their flight to Japan, again en route to a whirlwind of end of year schedules.

It’s not too bright out as Wooyoung takes a momentary gaze outside, looking at the city skyline receiving the sun’s rays bit by bit. The car itself is quiet - Wooyoung thinks most of them are asleep, catching up on their much needed rest.

Wooyoung remains awake for the majority of the commute, listening to the music that was faintly playing in the car - the manager had set the stereo to radio mode, some easy listening songs being played by this particular station that had a deejay with the perfect, calm voice for morning commute listeners. At one point, he gets quite absorbed into listening to the deejay talk about fall and winter traditional recipes, introducing some new cookbook by a celebrity chef who would also be appearing to talk about their book within the coming week on the show.

Before he knows it, they’ve arrived at the airport, the car coming to a steady halt. The manager doesn’t unlock the doors immediately, allowing the members some time to rouse from their naps and stretch or to do whatever else they needed to get ready - be it checking for any hairs out of place or adjusting their carefully chosen clothes for the airport.

Wooyoung, having not taken a nap, is done sooner than the others and he waits, as the manager unlocks the doors and the members together with him soon file out. He’s the last to get out of the car, but just as he’s about to swing his legs to pivot out, he feels something land on his lap with a soft thud. Wooyoung glances down, eyes narrowing as he wonders what kind of random object has landed on him.

He freezes when he realizes what it is. It’s a charm bracelet, and it’s in a style that he likes, to a T. Whoever had gotten him this definitely remembered what he liked, and had put careful thought into it. He lifts the bracelet up, resting it on his fingers, allowing it to dangle a little.

“Hey, we gotta go,” the manager calls out to him, snapping him out of his brief daze. Wooyoung’s neck snaps up as he nods dizzily, before getting out of the car. He makes sure to tuck the bracelet safely into the pocket of his sweatshirt, knowing he didn’t - or rather never wanted to lose it.

As usual, the walk from the car into the airport terminal is a frenzy with reporters and fans alike armed with cameras possessing enormous lens. He tries to give them as polite a smile and wave as he can manage at this hour, while being shuffled along towards the boarding gate by both the managers and the security detail. In all of the madness he forgets for a brief moment that he’s trying to figure out the mystery gifter of the bracelet. But once they are in the boarding area, where things are far less chaotic and they have a chance to breathe, Wooyoung starts to pay closer attention.

Eventually his brief investigation causes him to pause on Yeosang, who appears occupied on his phone with one of his favorite mobile games. Wooyoung thinks back to earlier, from where they stepped off the car, the walk through the airport, and now. He’s quite sure that he saw Yeosang sneak a few choice glances, at least once after they got off the car, and while on the way to the gate.

Wooyoung thinks he’s got him, but just as he’s about to confront Yeosang about it, the announcement sounds over the system to tell them to be ready for boarding. Wooyoung watches Yeosang carefully keep away his things, and just as he’s standing up, sure enough, he sneaks another glance in Wooyoung’s direction yet again. That cannot be just coincidence, Wooyoung thinks to himself.

Yeosang slips out of reach as they walk down the corridor onto the plane, and it feels like they’re being rushed into the cabin. All of them take a quick check of their seat numbers, and Wooyoung wants to pump his fists into the air when he realizes that Yeosang will be seated next to him.

Wooyoung lets Yeosang be as he gets ready for the flight, doing whatever he needed to do to feel comfortable, before he decides to ask Yeosang about the bracelet.

He waits until they’re up in the air, and the seatbelt sign switches off, when he reaches into his pocket, slowly fishing out the brand new bracelet. Yeosang is seemingly oblivious with his headphones on as he’s absorbed in his game. Wooyoung decides not to interrupt him just yet, peeking over the armrest just enough to see how far Yeosang was progressing in the match before he decided to try to get his attention.

Wooyoung has his opportunity once GAME OVER flashes on the screen, and Yeosang's shoulders slump a little. Clearly, he thought he could have gone further, but whoever it was that was his opponent was too strong. Yeosang takes off his headphones for a while, massaging at his temples.

“Yeosang-ah,” Wooyoung taps him on the shoulder, and Yeosang flinches, a little shocked at the sudden movement. “Sorry. I wanted to ask you something.”

Yeosang looks back at him blankly, before nodding. “Sure.”

Wooyoung takes the bracelet, lifting it up in front of Yeosang’s face. Yeosang’s eyes slowly widen as the bracelet gets closer to his eyes. “Did you drop this on me this morning?” he asks, lowering his volume.

Yeosang swallows as he fidgets with the collar of his jacket. “Yeah, yeah I did,” he replies briefly.

“Oh,” Wooyoung nods. “It’s quite sudden, but a nice surprise nonetheless,” he smiles. “What’s the occasion?”

Yeosang narrows his eyes at him. “For your birthday, of course,” he replies, like it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

Wooyoung leans back at that, feeling quite stunned. “But I thought all of us agreed that this year we wouldn’t be giving gifts,” he murmurs.

Yeosang casts an upward glance as he’s lost in thought for just a moment. “Yes, but.”

“But?” Wooyoung parrots, staring back at Yeosang.

Yeosang doesn’t say anything further, but his lips curl into a knowing smile.

But I wanted to give you something anyway, Wooyoung finishes the thought for him, in his heart. They’re going on eight years of knowing each other now, and Wooyoung is quite confident that though Yeosang could be an enigma at times, for matters of the heart, he could still have a pretty good read on Yeosang.

Yeosang’s unwavering smile is enough for Wooyoung to know that they both understand each other, and when Yeosang’s arms are outstretched towards him - Wooyoung knows full well that Yeosang is specially indulging him unlike regular occasions, so he seizes it, allowing Yeosang to pull him close, enough to hear his heartbeat.

“Happy birthday, Wooyoung-ah,” Yeosang murmurs, and Wooyoung closes his eyes when he feels the softest press of lips to the top of his head.

And that is enough. It’s more than enough.

three.

“You’re… sure about this, hyung?”

The two of them are standing in front of the entrance to one of those pricier karaoke joints, which prided itself in having more comfortable seating, better quality sound, and more privacy.

“Yep, sure am,” Wooyoung says with a sure nod, swaying on his feet.

Jongho hums, sounding doubtful. “I gave you a few options for your special birthday date, let me just repeat that.”

“And this was one of the choices, was it not, Jongho-ya?” Wooyoung tilts his head sideways, staring right at Jongho.

“Yes, well, but uh -“ Jongho’s voice trails off as he rubs at his chin, as though trying to find his words. “It’s.. technically your day, hyung.”

“So what does that mean, Jongho-ya?” Wooyoung tosses his hands up, still feeling rather lost.

“It means,” Jongho replies through gritted teeth, “that we should do something that you like more.”

Wooyoung makes an incredulous noise. “But isn’t this something I like, Jongho? Is it that hard to believe that I wanted to come here with you, and sing a few songs, maybe some in tune and the others not so in tune?”

Jongho opens his mouth, but soon realizes that he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on here. “Alright, alright, fine,” he sighs, and Wooyoung’s smile widens. “Let’s head in, then,” Jongho says, gesturing for Wooyoung to go ahead inside first.

At the counter, the staff attending to them gives them the usual spiel about how many hours they had, the various functions they could use in the room, et cetera. Of course, Wooyoung is hardly paying attention to all of this, too occupied in glancing around the front lobby and marveling to himself about how fancy the place seemed compared to the usual karaoke joints. Which leaves Jongho to be the one to take note of everything, not that he minded since he was the one who made the reservation in the first place.

It’s a short climb up the stairs to the upper floor where their room is located, and as they walk, their arms bump against each other, but nothing more. In the middle of the stairs where there’s flattened out ground leading to a mezzanine staff only door, Jongho pauses, extending his arm out, widening the crook of his arm.

Wooyoung pauses, blinking at him and glancing down at Jongho’s extended arm. Well? is what Jongho seems to be saying with his eyes, expression waiting for Wooyoung to catch on. Wooyoung’s lips curl upward as he delightedly slips his hand into the crook of Jongho’s arm, tucking it there as they walk in pace together for the remaining flight of stairs.

They eventually find their room, which is tucked nicely at the end of the corridor, perfectly private for the both of them.

Jongho pushes the door open, and he can’t help the audible wow that escapes him once he’s taken a good long look at the amenities provided inside. The couch looks very comfortable for hours of singing, and the sound system is state of the art. Wooyoung finds it all pretty cool too, as he goes to touch the mics first - they’re almost as good as the ones they use for music broadcasts.

“Here,” Jongho says as he hands the frankly enormous remote control for the system to Wooyoung. “Hyung gets first dibs.”

“You’re sure,” Wooyoung says, mouth slightly agape. Jongho gives him a piercing, insistent look and Wooyoung lifts his hands like a gesture of surrender, before he takes the remote control. It’s large enough that he has to hold it in both hands.

Wooyoung takes a moment to get himself familiar with the slightly intimidating controls - it had everything from volume, echo, crowd noise and even the lighting. He can’t resist playing around with it to Jongho’s chagrin - though he chooses not to say anything about it.

After a bit of toying with the system, Wooyoung thinks he’s gotten the hang of it. He picks a mixture of songs - some fast paced pop songs with a high BPM, and also throws in some ballads into the mix, songs he knows both of them will appreciate.

He starts them off with some early Big Bang, and Jongho indulges him by grabbing a tambourine to tap along, while remaining seated on the couch.

Jongho presses the crowd noises a few times, and they both can’t help but laugh at how artificial the noises sound.

After about two more dance songs, Wooyoung thinks he needs a quick breather, so he hands the mic over to Jongho as he crashes on the couch, limbs sprawled out while he catches his breath.

The timing is actually quite perfect, as a ballad starts to play. Jongho grabs the mic, weaving into the song as easily as slipping on a coat in autumn. Wooyoung leans forward, fingers laced together as he watches Jongho, utterly awed by the younger man.

It feels like hoarding a treasure almost, to have Jongho with him, singing like this. Jongho then turns towards Wooyoung when the lyrics get particularly profound. Wooyoung can’t help but place his hands over his heart a tad dramatically, watching Jongho slowly approach him, hand stretched out as he takes a seat next to Wooyoung.

Jongho scoots closer as he approaches the bridge of the song, now near enough that their shoulders are touching. His pinky is touching Wooyoung’s, and Wooyoung briefly hesitates before his hand comes to rest on Jongho’s. Wooyoung smiles, pleased when Jongho doesn’t make any move to shake him off, instead allowing Wooyoung to gently stroke his hand as he sings.

Once the song ends with a slow, gentle fade out, Wooyoung waves their joined hands, cheering for him enthusiastically.

“Happy birthday, hyung,” Jongho says with a warm smile, but it sounds vaguely comical as Wooyoung somehow has activated the echo mode. “Ah hyung, really,” Jongho groans, before setting the mic down onto the table.

“That was really nice,” Wooyoung says, turning towards Jongho who’s leaning against the couch.

“Good that you liked it, because I need to take five,” Jongho says, glancing at the blank ceiling.

“Already?” Wooyoung scoots over to the edge of the couch. “You barely started.”

“Just give me a moment,” Jongho mumbles, waving a hand weakly.

Wooyoung then thinks it’s a perfect time to order some drinks, so he orders two iced green teas for them. The service is very efficient, and within minutes they have their cool drinks, the glasses frosty on the table.

Hearing rustling next to him, Wooyoung turns to see Jongho take something out from his bag. It looks like a booklet of some sorts, and Wooyoung raises a brow as Jongho tears something out of it. “Alright, so you’ve spent one coupon,” Jongho mutters under his breath as he hands the piece of paper to Wooyoung.

“Coupon?” Wooyoung mumbles in confusion.

“Your present,” Jongho says bluntly, showing him the booklet which is titled Jung Wooyoung’s Gift Specials which makes Wooyoung snort, but a warmth begins to spread in his chest.

“Jongho-ya,” Wooyoung says sweetly. “This is… wow. I wanna say something cheeky, but I think it’s better if I just say thank you.”

Jongho snorts at his admission. “Sure, hyung.” He flips through the booklet, before tearing out another piece of paper. “Here,” he says bluntly. Wooyoung takes the coupon from him, staring at the words for a moment before he’s smirking. Wooyoung reads out, One day of limitless hugs and cuddles.

“Are you serious?” Wooyoung turns to Jongho, surprise written all over his face.

He nods, shrugging. “Yeah. So you’d better redeem it, before it expires.”

Wooyoung slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “Dummy. There’s no expiry date here.”

“There is!”

“Is not!”

Getting tired of the bickering, Jongho reluctantly pulls Wooyoung in close, the hug just a bit awkward. Wooyoung freezes for a moment, before relaxing in Jongho’s hold and wrapping his arms around him.

“Mm, ‘s nice,” Wooyoung hums, nestling himself against Jongho’s chest. Jongho just pats him albeit awkwardly on the back, remaining quiet.

“Thanks, Jongho-ya,” Wooyoung murmurs, the comfort of his current position lulling him into sleep.

“For what?”

“The best present you’ve given me.”

Jongho laughs incredulously, but tugs Wooyoung closer, resting his chin on the top of Wooyoung’s head.

four.

“I still have no clue as to where it is exactly that we're going,” Wooyoung says, sounding rather suspicious. Especially considering that Seonghwa had sort of ambushed him, putting some cloth over his eyes. Wooyoung had made a rather suggestive joke - but it’d earned him a light whack to the back from Seonghwa, saying that whatever it was was definitely not what Wooyoung was thinking of.

Wooyoung knew that he was being dragged into a car, as he could feel Seonghwa press down on the top of his head, helping him board without bumping his head on the roof of the car.

Once the car gets moving, Wooyoung starts to fidget about, feeling somewhat frustrated at not being able to see his surroundings. “Hyung, can’t you even spare me a clue?”

Next to him, he can hear Seonghwa make a noise of consideration. “Hmm, no,” he says, smile evident in his voice.

“Not even a crumb of a clue?” Wooyoung tries.

“Nope,” Seonghwa says with a light chuckle. He does slide his hand into Wooyoung’s, letting Wooyoung lace their hands tightly together as a kind of reassurance that he was just there.

Along the way, Wooyoung tries to fire out guesses of where they might be going - from the usual such as amusement parks, or even the off kilter ideas such as bungee jumping, or indoor skydiving, to which Seonghwa shoots down every single one of them, telling him his guess was very cold.

Once the car comes to a stop, Wooyoung turns round, looking like a meerkat on sentry duty. Seonghwa just chuckles softly to himself, helping Wooyoung disembark the car safely and not falling over in the process. When Wooyoung’s feet touch the ground, though, he perks up in realization.

“This feels like grass - hyung, are we at the Han River park?” Wooyoung chirps excitedly, and Seonghwa waves their joined hands about.

“Yep,” he says, smiling at a still blindfolded Wooyoung.

“Can I take this off already?” Wooyoung asks, hands already halfway moving up to try to remove whatever was obscuring his vision. Seonghwa’s reflexes are quite quick, however, and he’s able to stop Wooyoung with a firm grip to his wrist.

“Not yet,” Seonghwa murmurs. “Just a bit longer.”

Wooyoung groans irritatedly. “Ugh, alright. Hope we’ll get there sooner than later, then.”

“Be patient for me, yeah?” Seonghwa says, pressing a quick kiss to the back of his hand.

Wooyoung makes a garbled noise, but allows Seonghwa to lead them onward anyways.

“Watch your step,” Seonghwa says, holding up their joined hands as Wooyoung feels them step into what feels like an unbalanced platform. He starts to feel the ground sway side to side, and that’s when it sinks in.

“Are we getting onto some kind of boat?” Wooyoung asks, mildly panicked as he’s being led by Seonghwa along with one other voice speaking to them, telling them that they would be leading them to their seats and where they would be located. They walk for a while, Wooyoung holding on to Seonghwa’s arm to keep balance, until he comes to a halt, the toe of his shoes bumping against feels like the leg of a table.

“Let me help,” Seonghwa says, gently letting go of Wooyoung’s hand. Behind him, Wooyoung can hear the sound of a chair being dragged slowly out, and Seonghwa helps to lower him into the chair, making sure he’s seated comfortably before letting go.

Wooyoung glances around, trying to feel the arms of his chair, feeling whatever was in front of him. He can make out the smoothness of a fine tablecloth, and nearly pokes his hand against a metal fork. So, he deduces, they must be seated at some kind of table.

“Alright, Wooyoung-ah. You can remove the blindfold now,” Seonghwa says, and when Wooyoung does, he lets out an audible gasp when he gets to clearly see where exactly they were. They were indeed on a kind of cruise, and Wooyoung can see the sun just about to set.

“So we are on a cruise,” Wooyoung says, his expression cheery. Seonghwa smiles indulgently, reaching out to take Wooyoung’s hand from across the table.

“Happy birthday, Wooyoung-ah,” Seonghwa murmurs, running his hand over Wooyoung’s knuckles.

“Wow, hyung. I - I don’t know what to say,” Wooyoung says, slowly letting go to cup his face with his hands, clearly still feeling quite stunned over the surprise, which did turn out successful to Seonghwa’s delight.

Seonghwa snorts. “Hongjoong already brought you on that nice cruise in Paris, so I thought of doing something similar back here,” he shrugs. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Wooyoung pauses, getting distracted by some noise behind him. When he turns around, he sees some of the staff on the river cruise setting up what looks like a buffet table. “Whoa,” Wooyoung’s mouth falls open slightly. “There’s dinner too?”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa says somewhat sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head. “It’s apparently part of this package.”

“Nice,” Wooyoung smiles, nodding. “Sounds like we’re in for a very good evening.”

The cruise disembarks not long after the staff are done with their preparations for the rest of the evening, and Wooyoung takes his time to glance out the window next to their table. Thankfully, the weather that day had been clear throughout, allowing them to catch a little bit of the sunset before the sky turned dark.

“Good evening, and welcome aboard. We will be beginning the dinner service, so we invite all guests to proceed for the buffet. For the beverage menu, do seek the assistance of our friendly staff, who will kindly help you to…”

Wooyoung’s already halfway out of his seat before the announcement is even done, aiming straight for the buffet spread, to Seonghwa’s amusement. Seonghwa follows him closely behind, watching as Wooyoung piled his plate with what looks like a mountain of various dishes.

He carefully sets his plate down, waiting for Seonghwa to return with his food before tucking into the meal.

“How’s it?” Seonghwa asks, tipping the bottle over to fill Wooyoung’s glass with wine.

Wooyoung looks up from his plate, and Seonghwa has to resist the strong urge to burst out laughing at the sight of Wooyoung with his mouth full, sauce staining the corner of his lips. “Very good,” he says, swallowing the big bite.

“Please try not to choke,” Seonghwa says, resting his chin on his hand.

“And I am not seeing you eating,” Wooyoung retorts indignantly as he picks up Seonghwa’s fork, scooping up some food to press to his mouth. “Open up.” Seonghwa does, laughing as he cups a hand below his chin just in case some of the food fell out in the process.

A musician on board plays some familiar tunes on the keyboard, and Wooyoung’s got his phone out to capture some of it.

“Was the Paris one like this?” Seonghwa asks, watching Wooyoung in the middle of thumbing through his camera roll.

“Kinda,” Wooyoung says with a half shrug of the shoulder. “Except it was a course meal and not a buffet.”

“Alright,” Seonghwa says, as they fall back into a companionable silence.

“Well, I’m stuffed,’ Wooyoung hums, rubbing at his stomach as he stares down at his empty plate. “Wanna go outside and check out the view? The weather’s nice,” he suggests.

Seonghwa is in full agreement, and he slides his hand into the pocket of Wooyoung’s coat as they step out the glass door to the outer deck of the cruise vessel. A pleasant evening wind brushes across their faces, and Wooyoung shuts his eyes, letting himself feel the coldness touch his skin.

“Cold?” Seonghwa asks, tugging Wooyoung closer.

“M’fine,” Wooyoung murmurs, leaning to rest his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder. As it was rather cooling out tonight, not many of the other guests onboard were as keen as they were to come outside to take in a closer look of the Han River skyline.

Seonghwa nuzzles against him, able to smell the shampoo that Wooyoung used.

The cruise passes beneath a bridge, making their surroundings go dark for a moment. Seonghwa seizes this opportunity to pull Wooyoung flush against him, planting a quick, firm kiss to his lips before letting go just in time as they exit the bridge and are illuminated again by the city lights.

Wooyoung laughs. “That was quick,” he remarks, earning a snort from Seonghwa.

“I can’t exactly be doing that now,” he mutters.

Wooyoung takes a quick look around the deck. Seeing that no one was around, and they were passing a segment of the Olympic highway where cars were dashing by at high speeds, he tiptoes up to press a kiss to the corner of Seonghwa’s lips.

“Hey,” Seonghwa hisses. “We’re in the open.”

“No one’s around though,” Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows. “Lighten up. And I checked, there are no cameras out here, if you’re worried.”

Seonghwa chuckles, and he lets Wooyoung take the reins this time, pulling him down by the collar of his outer coat for another kiss, and another, until he complains of the cold and they have to go back inside for dessert.

All in all, a lovely evening, with just the two of them.

five.

Wooyoung hasn’t the faintest idea of whatever was happening before him, though he’s certain that he’s having quite a good time. He’s spent the last couple of hours or so listening to the sommelier in a white shirt and apron explain to them at length about the history of winemaking and the types of wines that they were going to explore for their class today.

It had been Yunho’s idea, this. He’d suggested they try out something different, and Wooyoung’s birthday being round the corner was an excellent reason for them, he’d explained. Wooyoung had agreed, more so because wine was involved - good wine, no less, and taking back the wine was also an equally attractive idea.

“Now, this is what we’re going to do…” the sommelier explains, and Wooyoung’s glancing down at the various types of wine laid before them. It’s honestly hard for him to tell the difference, really, when they were similar shades of red and white wines.

The more time passes, the more mildly buzzed Wooyoung begins to feel. This is a class that he finds that he likes, that lets him enjoy some drinks and some accompanying snacks on the side. He fills himself up with more olives, sundried tomatoes and cured meats than he’s probably ever had in one sitting.

Yunho, meanwhile, has razor sharp focus as he listens intently to every word the sommelier says, and at some points, noticing that Wooyoung’s focus was drifting, repeats and rephrases whatever was said barely a few minutes ago.

“This is why Yunho’s the best,” Wooyoung hums, raising one of his glasses which is tilted a little bit further to the side, feeling the buzz in his mind.

Yunho only shakes his head fondly, and it’s a good thing for them that they finish the class as Wooyoung’s skin begins to flush a hint of red. He’s latched on to Yunho, who’s trying his best to keep their things neatly and tidy their stations, a rather challenging feat considering Wooyoung was clinging to him like velcro.

He eventually manages to yank Wooyoung out of the shop, bags linked in their arms as they make their journey back to the dorm.

“M’sleepy,” Wooyoung says once they’ve boarded the subway. Good thing that it wasn’t crowded, and the few people onboard were far too occupied with their own devices to notice. The both of them also had their masks on, making them less likely to be recognized.

“I know, sweetheart,” Yunho says, nuzzling against the crown of Wooyoung’s head, taking in the scent of his hair product. “A bit more, and we’ll be home, yeah.”

The stroll back to the dorm also proves to be somewhat of a challenge as Wooyoung is tumbling into full on clingy mode, reluctant to move and wanting more to stay still on one spot and cuddle Yunho, which was definitely not the best scenario to be in out in the open like that.

With some force and sheer will, Yunho practically hauls Wooyoung through the front door, letting him press against the wall as he quickly locks it.

There’s no one else around, the others having gone out on their own dates with each other. So Yunho has the dorm to himself, at least for the night - which was good.

Yunho tugs Wooyoung into his room - the living room that he currently shared with Yeosang lacking a proper couch, so they’d have to settle for resting in his bed. Yunho carefully keeps away some of the clothes he’d left on his bed, before letting Wooyoung gently down onto the mattress, making sure he’s comfortable.

“Water,” Wooyoung mumbles, and Yunho pauses. “Alright, I’ll go get some. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Wooyoung makes a short noise of complaint, but Yunho eventually manages to tug himself away from Wooyoung’s grip. He runs to the kitchen, relieved when he finds a full bottle of water in the fridge, before dashing back to his room.

“Here, sit up,” Yunho sets down the bottle on the desk, nudging Wooyoung to move. “Are you a living cushion or what,” he grunts, amused as he pulls Wooyoung up by the arm. He helps to uncap the bottle, handing it to Wooyoung who gulps the water down, clearly thirsty and throat dry from the wine.

Wooyoung blinks for a bit, swaying sideways before he starts to feel himself regain some senses. “That’s nice,” he says, sputtering out the words. Yunho sighs, taking some tissue to wipe at Wooyoung’s damp mouth, lips a bit stained from the wine. While Yunho is trying to clean his mouth, Wooyoung leans in to kiss Yunho wetly on the cheek.

“Hey,” Yunho complains weakly. “At least wait for me to be done before you do that.”

Wooyoung laughs, seeing Yunho’s amusing expression. “No,” he says defiantly. “Wanna kiss you all the time,” he drawls, before letting out a soft burp. “Whoops,” he covers his mouth shyly. “Excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” Yunho says tiredly as he disposes of the used tissues.

Once he’s back from washing his hands after clearing the trash, Wooyoung decides that he wants to climb onto Yunho’s lap, brushing his fringe from his face. Yunho can only glance up at him, watching as Wooyoung was attempting to style his hair or something like that. He slowly wraps his hands around Wooyoung’s waist, letting Wooyoung do as he pleased.

Wooyoung gets bored soon, and he adjusts himself to lean in, kissing Yunho rather clumsily on the lips, the buzz still not fully wearing off just yet. Yunho pulls back with a short laugh, before he reaches up to cup Wooyoung’s face, leaning up to kiss him back.

Yunho grunts when he feels Wooyoung start to fidget in his hold, and he eventually pushes Wooyoung down onto the bed, gripping his wrists, eyes gazing down darkly into Wooyoung’s, round with surprise. “Wow, Jeong Yunho,” Wooyoung murmurs, fingers fidgeting in Yunho’s grip.

Yunho only laughs, before he lets go to sit up. “Rest,” he says, patting Wooyoung on the knee. He goes to sit at his desk, booting his computer on.

“Oi, Jeong Yunho!” Wooyoung raises his voice slightly. “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish,” he pouts. Yunho turns in his chair, shaking his head with a smile. “Finish your water,” is all he says, and Wooyoung complies, draining the bottle with a few gulps.

Wooyoung caps the bottle, before placing it back on the desk. “Done,” he says, and he uses his foot to tug Yunho’s chair closer. “Now, will you pay attention to me, please?” he asks, expression coy, but his eyes intense.

Yunho looks at him for a while, then back at his screen, then back at Wooyoung, who’s lying back down on the bed, hands by the side of his head, eyes eager and waiting.

“Ah, damn it all,” Yunho mutters to himself, and Wooyoung giggles as he feels Yunho loom over him, pressing him down onto the bed.

six.

“Is it ready yet?”

“No.”

“Is it ready yet?”

“No, and you repeating that over and over isn’t going to make it cook faster, Wooyoung-ah,” Mingi says tiredly as he continues to knead the dough for the sujebi that he was intending to make today. Wooyoung saunters over to the stove, where there’s another pot that has been boiling for some time there. He swipes at the steam, taking in the aroma of the broth. Once the seaweed soup was done, he thinks, it would be delicious.

But he wasn’t doing any of the cooking for the day. In fact, Mingi had given him firm instructions once he’d entered the kitchen that he wasn’t to touch anything, not a single ingredient or utensil, because Mingi would be the one doing all of it for the day.

Eventually, impatience gets the better of Wooyoung, and he sidles up to Mingi who’s really trying his best to get the dough right.

“Can I help?”

“No.”

“Can I nick half the dough, at least?”

“No.”

“Or at least pour out more flour into a bowl?”

“Wooyoung-ah, please, don’t try to backseat driver this,” Mingi sighs, sounding a little pained.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been at it for like, forever,” Wooyoung drawls, half leaning onto the kitchen counter.

Mingi, now at his limit, punches the dough fiercely, the dough making a smacking noise that makes Wooyoung laugh, amused at the sound. He turns to face Wooyoung, before scooping him up in one fell swoop, making him sit atop a clean spot of the kitchen counter next to the cupboards, his arms bracketing Wooyoung’s body.

“Hey,” Mingi whispers. “Are you going to stay still while you wait for me to finish, or what,” he says. “Hey, Jung Wooyoung,” he tugs at Wooyoung’s chin. “Look at me.”

Wooyoung smirks, before he wraps his arms around Mingi’s neck. “You’ve got my full attention, chef,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, earning an eye roll from Mingi, who turns around to return to attending to the half complete sujebi dough.

Not amused at being ignored, Wooyoung tugs Mingi back in by the arm, before spotting the bowl of flour near him, dipping his fingers in and pressing it onto Mingi’s face.

“Hey,” Mingi grumbles. “Don’t waste my ingredients.” But Wooyoung is unfazed in the slightest, cackling as he spreads more flour onto his rather unamused boyfriend’s face.

It quickly devolves into a full blown flour fight, as they each try to compete to see who could get more flour on the other. By the end of it, they’re half covered in flour, starting to resemble snowmen more than anything else.

They stop to stare at the other, before they’re dissolving into ceaseless, snorting laughter, mocking the other. Wooyoung tugs a hysterical Mingi by the arm, pointing at his face and unable to say anything clearly as he sees Mingi’s face half covered in flour.

The timer goes off, and they freeze.

“Oh man, that’ll be the seaweed soup,” Mingi mutters as he lets go of Wooyoung abruptly to go check on the boiling pot, lowering the intensity of the fire slowly. Wooyoung trails behind him, peeking over his shoulder as Mingi takes out a spoon to test it. “Ow,” Mingi winces, instantly regretting using a metal spoon rather than a wooden one.

“Can I try some, Mangi-ya?” Wooyoung asks, batting his eyelashes at Mingi, whose eyes roll upward but eventually gives in, handing Wooyoung the spoon. But Wooyoung glares at him, taking a step back.

“Feed me,” Wooyoung demands. Mingi sighs again, and he carefully scoops out some broth onto the spoon, slowly pushing the spoon into Wooyoung’s mouth. Wooyoung slurps on the soup loudly, expression pensive for a moment before his eyes widen. “It’s… really good, Mingi-ya. Actually, the taste is familiar too. How did you…”

Mingi visibly swells with pride, looking like he’s grown inches taller in an instant. “I called your mother a few days ago,” he says with a wide grin. “She told me the recipe she used, and I took it all down, of course.”

“Whoa, Song Mingi,” Wooyoung nods slowly, awe in his eyes. “That’s…really touching,” he says with an awkward thumbs up and Mingi pulls him close to ruffle his hair, making Wooyoung squeal before letting him go.

Mingi’s attention soon goes back to the untouched dough, and he lets out a groan before putting a flour covered hand to his hair, his hair staining a faint white as he does. “The sujebi,” he says, shoulders slumping miserably.

“Now, will you let me help?” Wooyoung leans against Mingi’s arm, rubbing at his elbow reassuringly. “Two pairs of hands are better than one.”

Mingi glances over at Wooyoung, and his expression is enough for him to know that Mingi’s conceded at last. Wooyoung skips over with a delighted laugh to where the incomplete dough lay, getting straight to work on it.

Wooyoung was right - more hands make for less work, and soon, the both of them are happily peeling bits of the dough off to throw into the special broth that had been going as well. Mingi’s even tossed in some special edible flowers, just to add to the flavor. Their arms brush as they work, and they occasionally exchange wide, pleased smiles as they finish the meal together.

Wooyoung helps to set down the cutlery, while Mingi’s got his mitts out to place the pots of broth onto the table. Mingi carefully uncovers the pots, setting the lids into the sink behind them before he’s seated down. Meanwhile, Wooyoung gets his phone out, snapping some photos which will more likely be going into their group chat. The replies are quick, the fastest being Jongho who asks them to save any leftovers for him, while the rest send either envious replies or heart eye emojis.

“Are you trying to make them jealous,” Mingi jests as he scoops some of the seaweed soup out with the ladle into Wooyoung’s bowl.

“No, just wanna show off, since I did half the work, technically,” Wooyoung says, sticking his tongue out at Mingi, who shakes his head, continuing to dish out the food for them.

“Let’s eat,” Mingi says, clasping his hands together, picking up his chopsticks to try the sujebi. Strangely, he feels like he’s being watched, and when he turns, Wooyoung is staring daggers at him. “What?” he asks dumbly.

“Aah,” Wooyoung says, opening his mouth. Mingi shoves the dough piece into Wooyoung’s mouth, and he begins to flap his hands about due to the sheer heat.

“Slowly, slowly,” Mingi says, as he takes a bite from his own bowl. It did turn out pretty good, considering it was his first attempt at making sujebi, so he feels quite pleased with himself.

After a while, he pauses to watch Wooyoung eat, seeing his happy expression as he drinks the seaweed soup, closing his eyes slowly as though he was recalling something.

“Good?” Mingi asks, when Wooyoung opens his eyes.

“Mm hmm,” Wooyoung nods, leaning over to kiss Mingi on the cheek. “Wonderful, thank you, Mangi-ya,” he hums, before going back to finish the remainder of his bowl.

seven.

It’s early.

Way too early, actually, Wooyoung thinks as he tries to pull himself out of bed, despite it being nowhere close to his usual alarm timing. On the bed next to him is a still slumbering Jongho, who’s his roommate this time for their trip to New York for some schedules. He can’t help but feel envy for Jongho, who can sleep a bit more.

Since Jongho wasn’t awake, he couldn’t complain about Wooyoung and morning breath, so Wooyoung leans down to press a quick kiss to Jongho’s forehead. “Sleep well, my silly bear,” he murmurs, gently brushing his hair from his face.

He trudges to the bathroom, taking his phone with him so that he could play some music to help speed up his waking process. Though he’s half tempted to go back to bed, he’d promised San that he’d follow him to catch the sunrise by the Manhattan river, before a hearty breakfast of pancakes and everything greasy before their long day began.

Grabbing his toothbrush, he almost drops it in shock when a too loud GD & TOP song comes onto his shuffle. He quickly switches it out for a song with a slightly slower tempo, afraid that it might wake Jongho up from his sleep. Wooyoung does a speedrun of his morning routine, brushing his teeth and washing his face in record time at the sink, before shedding his clothes and hopping into the shower.

He hums along to the song, bopping along as he soaps himself down. For the rest of his routine, he also does it all in record time. Now that he was awake, he didn’t want to be late, and also risking disappointing San as well, who technically was also getting up before his usual timing, fighting off the jet lag just so they could catch the sunrise at a scenic spot.

Wooyoung settles for layering a simple jacket over his shirt, and wide legged jeans, which would probably do for the Manhattan weather, even with the possibility of strong winds by the river.

He grabs his bag, a lumpy, bulky thing which he adored because he could throw practically everything he had in it, before gently opening and closing the door, sneaking one last look at a still asleep Jongho with a fond half smile.

At the lobby, San’s already waiting for him, looking quite absorbed in the newspaper he’d probably grabbed from next to the lobby lounge area.

“Wow, New York Times, huh,” Wooyoung says, and that gets San’s attention instantly as he looks up to smile dopily at Wooyoung - the expression definitely doing something to Wooyoung’s heart. San looks really good today, he thinks smugly to himself. He looks like he could easily pass for someone working on Wall Street.

San gets up slowly from his seat, taking a step closer to Wooyoung, eyes full of affection. “You look nice, Youngie,” he murmurs, patting down the collar of Wooyoung’s jacket.

“So do you, Mr. Wall Street,” Wooyoung jokes, and San laughs, eyes forming twin crescents on his face.

“Shall we go?” San says, extending a hand for Wooyoung to take. Wooyoung slides his hand into San’s, savoring the warmth that he emitted as they strolled out the doors of their hotel.

Once they’re outside, Wooyoung lets out an audible whoa when he feels the wind against his face. The sun was about to rise very soon, so it was still quite dark. San pulls him closer, as though afraid that he would be feeling cold.

“M’fine, San-ah,” Wooyoung reassures him in a soft voice as they continue down the boardwalk, getting close to the spot which San had pointed out would be great for them to better catch the sunrise.

At this hour, it’s relatively safe for the both of them to be out like this, as most people wouldn’t be awake yet. So Wooyoung savors it, hand tightly linked in San’s. Occasionally, San would take their joined hands to plant quick kisses onto Wooyoung’s hand, earning him a few smiles. San also slots their hands into his coat pocket for a bit, wanting to keep them warm on the way.

“Okay, so, the reviews said we should stand just about here,” San says after they’ve walked to what seems like a dead end at the boardwalk. When they turn around, there’s a clear view of the city skyline. Some of the lights are still on, and they decide to lean against the railing on the edge, just gazing out to look at the skyscrapers before them. San points out a few key landmarks, and tells them where they would be going for breakfast. That elicits a rumble from Wooyoung’s stomach, and San can’t help but pat at Wooyoung’s stomach fondly, telling him that he wouldn't have to wait much longer and soon they would be feasting on an excellent breakfast.

The two of them stand there, continuing to chat about everything from schedules, to what else they wanted to do, and their plans once they got back to Seoul. They’re in the middle of talking about planning to visit someone’s parents, when Wooyoung perks up, lifting their joined hands. “Look, San-ah, look! Over there!”

Sure enough, the very sight that they specially woke up early for, and waited for, starts to appear. The sun begins to peek from the horizon, and San lets go of their hands so that Wooyoung could get out his phone to capture the sight. The weather was absolutely perfect, and the sun isn’t obscured at all as it makes the slow rise to light up the Manhattan skyline.

“Wow,” Wooyoung says, trying to keep his angle as steady as possible as he captures the sun rising before his eyes. As it gets brighter he squints in the light, but he’s determined to capture it all.

San, meanwhile, is content to move around the boardwalk, capturing some pictures of Wooyoung watching the sun rise. Once he’s satisfied, he scrolls back through his camera roll, and once he’s landed on the particular capture that he’s most pleased with, he clicks on the heart to save it to upload on a special day.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” San murmurs. “And the sun isn’t bad, either,” he says with a wry smile, earning a squeal from Wooyoung who slaps amicably at his shoulder.

“Please,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning.

“Was it worth it, Wooyoung-ah?” San asks, turning to face Wooyoung. “To wake up before dawn and walk in the cold morning.”

“Mm, it wasn’t too bad,” Wooyoung shrugs. “Because of the excellent company, no less,” he grins, and San takes a step closer. His smile fades, and Wooyoung’s now suddenly curious as to what’s gotten his boyfriend all serious.

“Turn around, Wooyoung-ah,” San says, and Wooyoung does without question, since San had gotten all solemn. From behind, Wooyoung can feel San’s hands reach up to his collar, and he can feel what seems like a necklace being latched on, hearing the soft sound of a clasp.

“San-ah,” Wooyoung asks. “What’s that?”

San turns him around, pulling him close so that their bodies are now flush against each other. “You can look down at it,” he murmurs, the softest of smiles curling on his lips.

Wooyoung looks down, and it’s a silver ring being held up by a chain - he knows precisely what brand it’s from, because he’s been telling San about a particular ring he’d seen on his Instagram explore page, and exactly how pretty it was. And now, he’s wearing it as a necklace.

“It’s not even that close to my birthday yet, though,” Wooyoung mutters as he touches the ring gently with his fingertips.

“But how often do we get to come to New York and catch the sunrise though,” San replies, hands running up and down Wooyoung’s back.

“True, true,” Wooyoung nods, his gaze not moving from the necklace.

“Wooyoung-ah,” San says, hand gently brushing against Wooyoung’s chin, gently nudging him to look up. “I love you - and you know we all do, right?”

Wooyoung smiles, eyes crinkling, feeling his eyes go damp.

“Yeah,” he whispers as he leans in. “I know, and I do too.”