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If anything, Kihyun has never been particularly subtle about what he approves or doesn’t approve of. In this case, it’s as they’re leaving the office after a discussion around the upcoming comeback; at which, Kihyun had also demonstrated his inability to suppress his impatience with terrible ideas.
And so, already wound up from the lengthy meeting, he nearly explodes when Hyungwon turns down Kihyun’s suggestion to go out for dinner.
“You have plans outside of us?” The question ends an octave higher, with the full force of Kihyun’s incredulity.
Hyungwon doesn’t even face him when he answers, “I have driving lessons tonight.”
“For what?” There’s an irritated tugging in Kihyun’s chest. If Hyungwon didn’t want to eat together (and honestly, who cares if he didn’t?) he should have just made up a better excuse. He’s sat in the latter’s car a million times. It's a point of annoyance, really, how much of a better driver Hyungwon is… not that Kihyun would ever admit it willingly. Which makes his lie all the more infuriating. “You already know how to drive.”
This time, Hyungwon does look at him. There’s the briefest moment of sheepishness that flashes across Hyungwon’s face — it’s their almost decade-long friendship that has Kihyun picking up on this subtle change in expression — before he mumbles a reluctant reply, “Not for a motorbike, though.”
“You’re joking,” Kihyun’s retort is louder than he intends for it to be, but he can’t help it. “Do you know how many deaths are caused by motorbikes a year?”
Hyungwon doesn’t even have the courtesy to pretend that he’s considering Kihyun’s question, “Say whatever you want, it’s already my fourth lesson.”
And you’re only telling me now? Kihyun barely bites back his impulsive response, but what he ends up saying is no better, “It’s your funeral.”
A beat passes before Hyungwon answers, “Find someone else for dinner or eat alone.”
“Think about it this way: Hyungwonnie’s just getting into character,” Minhyuk says, when Hyungwon ducks out of dinner plans, once again, for his death machine. Kihyun’s unimpressed look does nothing to deter Minhyuk from pressing an already obvious point, “Since we’re doing Rush Hour .”
Kihyun has long learnt that the best way to deal with Minhyuk’s inane comments is to pretend that he hasn’t heard them. They’ve barely started Gambler promotions; but the show must go on, even when the show before the show hasn’t even begun yet. He picks up from where Minhyuk had obnoxiously interrupted him, “Well, I just think it’s quite stupid of him.”
“I mean, Hyungwon has always liked stupid things,” Minhyuk says this, wagging his eyebrows knowingly. His words are thick with significance that Kihyun doesn’t even bother trying to understand.
See above on dealing with Minhyuk’s meaningless statements, Kihyun pays him no mind. He doesn’t even know where to start deciphering Minhyuk’s statement. "Did you know that motorbike deaths went up last year? It was 446 in 2020 and that was just counting up till November."
“Sounds like you did your research,” Minhyuk says, still in that stupid suggestive voice of his. Not for the first time, Kihyun resists the urge to throttle him. “You’re extremely interested for someone who says he’s washed his hands off the whole thing.”
“It’s on the news,” Kihyun says — which, technically, is not a lie. Except Kihyun had all but burnt his retinas the night before, looking up the statistics of motorbike accidents and deaths in Seoul, then Korea, then the rest of the world. It’s obviously in the name of defending his stance in case Hyungwon questions him, “Everyone knows this.”
Minhyuk lets out a cackle, “You’re just bitter that Hyungwon has less time to hang out with you now.”
“ Please ,” Minhyuk’s assertion is so completely ridiculous that it breaks Kihyun’s determination not to address him directly. “That beanpole and I spend more than enough time together.”
“I’m not talking about our schedules,” Minhyuk says, looking smug for entirely no reason, “I’m talking about your little midnight drives and stupid da —”
“We get into enough car accidents as it is in our music videos,” Kihyun interrupts, firmly, before Minhyuk finishes whatever inane thing he was about to say. He turns his attention back to his phone, where he’d been looking up dinner options. “We don’t need one in real life either. That’s all.”
The thing is: Kihyun doesn’t particularly care about what Hyungwon does in his free time. It’s not meant to be a callous statement. They’ve been friends (yes, friends — unlike what Minhyuk likes to insinuate, Kihyun isn’t so committed to his Tom-and-Jerry bit with Hyungwon that he won’t admit this) for long enough and team mates for even longer, for Kihyun to have some semblance of trust in him.
It’s just —
“Okay, spit it out,” Hyungwon’s arms are crossed. It used to unnerve Kihyun, how flat Hyungwon’s expressions were when he wasn’t hamming it up for the camera. Now, he just sees a weary yet cultivated patience. “I know you’ve got something to say.”
“Just feels rich how you tell our fans to be careful,” Each word feels like a tooth being pulled out; but it’s better than the alternative that had been running through Kihyun’s mind. Something along the lines of I thought we could chill this evening or it’s been a while since we went out for a meal, just the two of us . Instead, he continues, “When you, yourself, are doing something dangerous.”
They hold eye contact. It’s disturbing how long Hyungwon can go without blinking, but Kihyun refuses to give in, even as his eyes start to start.
“I’m being careful,” Hyungwon says, looking away first. It should feel like a victory, but Kihyun’s stomach turns. “You don’t have to worry so much about me all the time.”
But I do — Kihyun isn’t dumb enough to say this out loud, even if it’s not a secret. Of course he worries about Hyungwon; he worries about all the members so Hyungwon isn’t special. But Kihyun finds himself at a loss for a response, and ends up just walking away instead.
That, alone, feels like an answer enough — he can feel Hyungwon’s eyes burning a hole in his back — and it settles weirdly in his stomach.
Not that Kihyun is keeping track, but Hyungwon should have had at least 18 lessons since he’d revealed he was toying with death on the most dangerous vehicle known to mankind.
18 times that Hyungwon has said he’s too busy to meet up because he’s going to ride. (And sure , these 18 times may be dwarfed by the many other times he and Hyungwon have actually hung out during this period — because since when did Hyungwon become the member he meets the most, outside of work? — but that’s beside the point.
The point being that Kihyun doesn’t care that Hyungwon doesn’t have the time to meet him, he’s more infuriated by the fact that Hyungwon is spending the precious little they have of personal time riding a death machine.)
“This means he’s making it all up,” Kihyun says, around a mouthful of rice. “You don’t need that many lessons to get certified, especially if you already have a driving licence.”
Minhyuk makes a non-committal sound, while Changkyun chooses to stuff his face with a huge serving of kimchi jjigae . They’d decided to order lunch into their dorm; a rare, glorious day in which they had nothing on their schedules, apart from sleeping in and doing absolutely zilch.
At least, unless you’re Hyungwon and have mysteriously begged off a day of hanging out with your best and dearest friends for a quote-unquote motorbike practice.
Undeterred, Kihyun waves his chopsticks around as he continues, “Don’t you need to just do 10 hours on the course or something? He must have done at least five times that by now.”
“Wow, hyung,” Changkyun pipes up, one cheek puffed up with his food. There’s a glint in his eyes that Kihyun knows doesn’t spell anything good. Even so, Kihyun isn’t quite prepared for Changkyun’s quip, “You’re really obsessed, huh.”
“I’m no —”
The rice that Kihyun had optimistically taken a bite of is now going down the wrong way, tumbling down his windpipe. Kihyun splutters, choking as the rice refuses to go down. Instead of doing anything remotely useful, Changkyun simply bursts into unapologetic laughter, collapsing against a smirking Minhyuk.
With great difficulty, Kihyun swallows hard, and then reaches for his glass of water for a sip. His so-called members-and-best-friends only watch on with growing amusement, as Kihyun says with as much dignity as he can muster, despite being red in the face, “I’m not obsessed. I’m just stating facts.”
This time, Minhyuk snorts, “Yeah, because the rest of us know how many lessons Hyungwon has already taken.”
“I don’t —”
It’s clear that Kihyun lives with a bunch of traitors. Changkyun jumps in, “And because the rest of us know what you need to do to get a licence.”
“It’s called taking an active interest in your teammates,” Kihyun answers, all calm and collected. Sure, he’s being ganged up against, but he’s mature enough to handle it. It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened.
“Okay, then, what’s the last painting I did?”
Kihyun slams his chopsticks down against the table, “How the heck am I supposed to know that? You hide them in your room all the time.”
There must have been something in his expression; Minhyuk dissolves into uncontrollable giggles that suddenly turn into huge coughs, because he, too, has choked on his food.
Kihyun just watches as Minhyuk potentially asphyxiates in front of him, because, serves him right, really.
It’s purely out of concern for Hyungwon that Kihyun ends up asking, “Shouldn’t you have gotten your licence by now?” They’re tucked away in a corner of a new cafe that Hyungwon had texted Kihyun about the day before; it’s nondescript but tiny, and everytime Kihyun moves, his knees jostle against Hyungwon’s.
The only reason why Kihyun is asking is because if Hyungwon hasn’t even passed his bike test after taking lessons for what seems like months, then perhaps he isn’t meant to ride a motorbike. Kihyun’s current conjecture is that Hyungwon has probably failed the test a couple of times, but has been too proud to admit it nor to give up.
No matter, Kihyun’s ready to assure Hyungwon that it’s alright to stop his madness, without gloating too much, because he’s a much bigger man than that.
Hyungwon looks at him weirdly, “I already have my licence.”
Then, “Ow!” because Kihyun’s double-take is so dramatic, he’s kneed Hyungwon in the shin.
“Why do you keep saying you’re going for practice?” Kihyun can’t help the way he issues his question as an accusatory demand. The couple a few tables from them jolt and look at them. Both Kihyun and Hyungwon duck their heads, trying to avoid eye contact, until the couple turns away. Making an effort to lower his volume, Kihyun fails at dialling down the accusation in his statement as he hisses, “Practice means lessons.”
“I mean, it is practice,” Hyungwon doesn’t even sound apologetic at misrepresenting the situation. He takes a sip of his ice americano, like he hasn’t been lying to them for the past few months.
“But you have your licence.”
Hyungwon shrugs, “Yeah.”
“Then what are you even practising for?” Kihyun hisses, sharp and angry. He pauses, wondering if he should apologise for his tone. Hyungwon has certainly snapped at him before for much, much less.
Instead of responding in kind, Hyungwon answers, almost amused, “Weren’t you the one who told me to be careful?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Kihyun says, unsettled by the way Hyungwon is looking at him. He can’t quite puzzle out his expression: something in between expectant but hopeful. The cafe feels hot, suddenly, the space between them is too small. It’s uncomfortable, and Kihyun reacts the only way he knows how, “If you really wanted to be careful, you wouldn’t be riding that thing. You wouldn’t catch me being that stupid.”
“Right,” Hyungwon’s face falls, and Kihyun knows he’s misstepped but he can’t quite figure out how. But before Kihyun can attempt to smooth over whatever’s just transpired, so quietly it seems that he doesn’t realise he’s spoken out loud, Hyungwon says, “I’m just being stupid.”
They’re returning to their apartment after promotions when Minhyuk brings it up.
It’s about 3am and Kihyun feels sticky with sweat and the remnants of make-up he hadn’t been able to clean off in their hasty departure from the studio. There’s nothing more that he wants than to take a quick, warm shower and then crawl into bed. Kihyun’s already padding towards his room, dreaming of the sweet release of sleep.
So, of course, that’s when Minhyuk chooses to say, “You should lay off him a little.”
“Huh?” In Kihyun’s confusion, Changkyun darts past him to conquer the bathroom with the better shower pressure.
“About the whole bike thing.”
The statement is so left-field that Kihyun only blinks at Minhyuk, “I’m not being anything about it.”
“Yeah, I mean,” Minhyuk rolls his eyes like he’s tired of having this conversation even though they’ve barely said anything. “Hyungwonnie means well. He wants to do it right, you know.”
“Okay, I know.” But Kihyun doesn’t know — doesn’t feel like he knows when it comes to Chae Hyungwon. It must be the murkiness of the night, the exhaustion of practice that has Kihyun feel like he’s swimming underwater, trying to figure out what Minhyuk’s not saying, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s all.”
“Well,” Minhyuk has the audacity to grimace, “Maybe don’t be so aggressive about it.”
“I’m not —”
“You’ve been sending him news clippings about motorbike accidents almost every day.”
“That’s for his own go —” Kihyun’s protest dies under Minhyuk’s withering look. He suppresses the urge to scroll through his chat history with Hyungwon, just to prove his point. Just this morning, he’d texted Hyungwon some nonsense about a new seafood restaurant that apparently had great reviews! But he swallows his pride. It’s way too late to be arguing a point that Kihyun’s obviously correct about, “Fine, I’ll tone it down.”
“Good,” Minhyuk pauses, and looks like he wants to say something more — really, what has ever stopped Minhyuk from saying what he wants to say. But, the bathroom door rattles open and Changkyun tumbles out, pink-cheeked from his fresh shower.
Instead of whatever’s on his mind, Minhyuk smiles and pats Kihyun on the shoulder absently, “Don’t be a dick.” like it settles anything, and glides into the empty bathroom, before Kihyun can stake his claim on it.
To Kihyun’s credit, he does try . And he does last for at least a week.
It’s just that, whenever he’s in a car now, being shuttled in between their non-stop schedules, he can’t help but watch the motorbikes they’re sharing the roads with. How fragile and soft the biker is, compared to the hard, steely exterior of the cars that they’re weaving in and out around.
It’s barely any effort to imagine Hyungwon on one of these faceless motorbikes. Just a little more of a leap of imagination to see, in his mind’s eye, a car swerving a fraction too much to the left, to clip the front wheel of a motorbike.
To see —
There’s nothing good about a bike
What’s wrong with a car???
It’s so much easier to go on drives in a car
Where else would you keep your snacks or a picnic blanket??
Chae Hyungwon
And where exactly are we going that requires a picnic blanket?
The beach
The park
The top of a hill
Use your imagination
There are many places you may need a blanket to sit on
Chae Hyungwon
Lmao
I’ll keep that in mind for a future date
You’re not answering the question
Chae Hyungwon
I’m sure we can fit everything you need on a bike
You do know that they have storage compartments too, right?
Of course I know
I’m not an idiot
Chae Hyungwon
Hm
Not so sure about that
Anyway, we still on for tonight?
Yeah whatever
See you later
Honestly, Kihyun should have seen it coming earlier than he did. As it is, he’s completely blindsided when one evening, Minhyuk throws open their apartment door with such flourish, the doorknob slams against the supporting wall with a loud
bang!
Kihyun startles so hard, he almost drops the can of beer he’d been nursing while watching Netflix in their living room. “Ideal husband, my ass,” Kihyun grouses. “Our fans only need to live with you for a week to know that’s entirely false.”
“Excuse you, I’m perfect,” Minhyuk answers, as he flings himself onto the two-seater that Kihyun’s already sitting on. Out of principle, Kihyun refuses to move, even as Minhyuk’s elbows dig painfully into his side.
Minhyuk’s so quiet that Kihyun thinks he’s fallen asleep — doesn’t change how sharp his stupid elbows are though . The sound of the random reality show Kihyun had put on Netflix fills in the silence.
With the last drop of beer finished, and his patience at being skewered by Minhyuk’s limbs way past his limit, Kihyun’s about to give up his position on the couch when Minhyuk says, from his side, “Hyungwon’s actually a good driver.”
“Wow, that was random?” Like the ahjussi he feels like he’s ageing into, Kihyun presses both palms against his legs for balance as he gets to his feet. Without Kihyun as his pseudo-armrest, Minhyuk flops ungracefully onto the couch, and shimmies to take over the rest of the space.
“He took me on the bike just now, for a bit around Seongsu,” Minhyuk says, from his conquered position. Kihyun freezes, a sudden, sour feeling striking him from the inside out. “It was a pretty fun ride, even though I’d definitely prefer a car any day.”
“You went on his bike?” Kihyun hears someone asking from a distance, before realising he’d been the one who had spoken the question aloud. “He took you around on his motorbike?”
“Yeah, Hyungwonnie asked so I thought why not,” Minhyuk eyes Kihyun. There’s something about the way he’s watching him that makes Kihyun feel like he’s missing something. Expectant, like he’s waiting for a reaction. “He said he wanted to practise biking with a passenger.”
It must be the alcohol — no matter that Kihyun only had a single can of beer — that makes his head pound. Kihyun’s suddenly reminded of all the history between him and Hyungwon. The sourness in his chest twists and expands.
Minhyuk’s still watching him, waiting, and Kihyun opens his mouth to say, well, anything, really —
A loud crunching sound breaks the silence.
It’s the empty beer can he’d been holding in his left hand, now a crumpled thing in his clenched fist.
Whatever, it’s whatever.
“Ah,” Kihyun says, his tone light, but his heart is pounding against his chest, “Seems like going to the gym’s been paying off.”
Minhyuk smiles at his bad joke; it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
It only takes 48 minutes before Kihyun caves.
You brought Minhyuk out today?
On your bike?
Chae Hyungwon
Yes…
If you’re going to yell at me, make sure you scold Minhyuk as well
We should at least split the nagging equally
What if you both got into an accident??
What then???
Can you imagine how badly it’ll reflect on us
Chae Hyungwon
Ah
So it’s just about our rep
That’s not what I meant
Chae Hyungwon
Sure
Chae Hyungwon is typing….
Whatever else Hyungwon has to say is lost to the night, Kihyun tosses his phone across his room. It, thankfully, lands in his laundry bag; the force of his impulsive action cushioned by the fresh clothes he’s yet to unpack. Somewhere in there is a sweater he’d borrowed from Hyungwon a while ago, on a chilly night out, but hadn’t had the chance to return.
(Somewhere in his phone, are a million photos of Hyungwon, of their time together, records of night car drives, glimpses of a blurry truth that Kihyun pretends he doesn’t see, that he’ll never show anyone else.)
His hands are shaking with something fierce. He doesn’t know why. He knows why. Kihyun forces himself into bed and squeezes his eyes shut, and lets sleep elude him for hours.
(When he wakes up in the morning, there are no new messages from Hyungwon.)
The first time they’d gone on a drive together, it had been anything but comfortable. Hyungwon had just gotten his licence about a month prior, but there’d been little time between schedules for him to actually practise driving. Out of the kindness of his heart — and tired of Hyungwon whining about not putting his licence to good use — Kihyun had agreed to be his first test passenger.
It was pretty much downhill the moment they’d buckled their seatbelts.
Kihyun had taken one look at Hyungwon’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and momentarily regretted offering to accompany Hyungwon on the road. When they’d said they would die for each other, for the group, technically, Kihyun hadn’t expected it’d be taken literally.
“Not too late to get out,” Hyungwon had said, but his bravado rang false in Kihyun’s ears.
Kihyun had always known that he was a better actor than Hyungwon. He’d snorted so derisively that the colour returned to Hyungwon’s face, “We don’t have all day. Let’s get going.”
It’s testament to Kihyun’s growth as an adult that he wakes up in the morning and knows he’s in the wrong. Maybe not in the wrong-wrong , but he’s mature enough to recognise that he’s hurt Hyungwon’s feelings in some capacity.
Despite that, it still takes more than a moment for Kihyun to decide he should apologise. After all, he’s only human, and it’d been obvious that he hadn’t meant it the way that Hyungwon had taken it.
Was there even any question about how Kihyun had felt about him? Or, well, about the entire group, to be exact?
It’s both fortunate and unfortunate that they have a photoshoot scheduled for the morning, and so Kihyun has to see Hyungwon, regardless of whether he intends to apologise or not.
When Hyungwon does appear, along with Hyunwoo and Jooheon, he doesn’t look particularly upset nor affected. In fact, he barely spares Kihyun a glance, but that could be less due to Kihyun and more because their call-time had been an ungodly hour.
It’s a bit frustrating, how unbothered Hyungwon looks. There’s a nervous energy that’s rattling within Kihyun, multiplying with each second that Hyungwon doesn’t quite look his way, even when they’re in the same frame together. It’s probably just a caffeine rush from the two iced Americanos Kihyun’s guzzled down since the start of the day.
Despite all that, the shoot goes well enough. There’s nothing on Hyungwon’s face that shows if he’s thought any more of their conversation — not that Kihyun’s examining him, not that he catches Hyungwon glancing away every time he looks. He doesn't have time to double-think his apology anyway, with the busyness of the shoot; and it's only when they're all wrapped up that he finds a moment alone with Hyungwon.
The beanpole is standing by the mirrors, slowly cleaning off his make-up, and looking almost exactly the same; Kihyun would roll his eyes if he weren’t about to grovel for forgiveness.
“Hey,” Kihyun says, a bit too forcefully; Hyungwon doesn’t look up. He tries again, over-correcting, “I’ve something to tell you.”
This time, Hyungwon’s head snaps towards him, eyes wide with something that could pass off as concern. “Are you alright?”
“Uh yeah, everything’s fine,” Kihyun startled by the sudden attention, and the tension in Hyungwon’s posture releases at his answer. He tries not to look away, even as he shoves his sweaty hands into his pocket, “I’m sorry.”
Hyungwon blinks, surprise fluttering across his face, but he doesn’t say anything. The silence between them stretches long enough that Kihyun’s skin itches.
He clears his throat, and tries to keep the impatience out of his voice, “Did you hear me? I said I was sorry.”
“You don’t look like it,” Hyungwon answers, finally, his expression turning deliberately unreadable.
“I really am,” Kihyun manages to avoid wincing, “Sorry for what I said.”
A beat passes, then another, then all at once, Hyungwon doubles over in the same wheezing laughter that always makes him sound like he’s about to keel over from breathlessness. “I thought you were an idol. Don’t you know how to control your face?”
“You’re such an asshole,” Kihyun shoots back, the heat in his retort smothered by a sense of relief that overcomes him.
Hyungwon straightens up, smirking, “That’s rich for someone who was just begging for my forgiveness.”
“Whatever,” Kihyun grumbles, “See if I care about you in the future.”
“So, you care about me?” Hyungwon asks. It’s clear he means this as a joke but there’s a dusting of pink across Hyungwon’s cheeks that they both can’t blame on the make-up he’s already taken off.
“Of course, idiot,” Kihyun has to look away, his heart clenches. “I always have.”
Chae Hyungwon
Hey
Come outside
Wtf
It’s 2am
Chae Hyungwon
Sorry I didn’t know I was talking to an old man
Is it past your bedtime?
Give me five
Kihyun only over-thinks his outfit once before he scrambles downstairs.
Honestly, he doesn’t quite know what to expect but the sight of Hyungwon with his motorbike surprises him. Something must show on Kihyun’s face because Hyungwon’s smile dims.
“You don’t have to say yes,” Hyungwon looks unsure, fiddling with the helmet in his hands. Kihyun hasn’t seen this look on him in a long while, not since their first concert, “We could go on a drive instead. In a car, I mean.”
“No,” Kihyun says, thoughtlessly, and Hyungwon’s face falls. He’s an idiot, Kihyun rushes forward, hands reaching out for the helmet that Hyungwon is holding. Their fingers meet, around the curve of the helmet.
Kihyun feels like one of the nauseating fools in those dramas he hates, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s sure Hyungwon can feel how fast his heart is beating, even through the tiny sliver of contact, “No, I want to go on your bike.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I need to see what the fuss is about,” Kihyun’s not ashamed that he has to retreat into comfortable territory. From the way Hyungwon’s shoulders relaxes, it’s clear Hyungwon feels the same. It’s always two steps forward, five steps back, one leap forward — but Kihyun doesn’t think any other way would have worked with them. “If it’s a terrible experience, I’m fully justified to continue nagging you.”
“Hmm,” Hyungwon smiles, “I brought a secret weapon.”
“Oh?”
Hyungwon’s hand pulls away, leaving Kihyun missing the warmth. He opens the compartment of his bike with a flourish. There’s something red-and-white-checked, folded neatly inside. It takes a while for Kihyun to make out what it is, in the dimness of the evening.
He almost lets out a bark of laughter when he realises what it is: a picnic blanket, of all things.
“Well, in that case,” Kihyun can’t help the smile across his face, “Let’s get going.”