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"Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point.”
It started with a pair of photos and an entirely unprepared Choi Yeonjun. To be fair, it wasn’t like Yeonjun knew he needed to be prepared for his dongsaeng to post the most earth-shattering, soul-crushing, reality-bending set of selcas he’d ever seen in his twenty-four years of existence. If he had known then perhaps his reaction would have been slightly (minutely) more reasonable.
But of course, the universe hated him and therefore the events unfolded as follows.
Yeonjun woke up from a midday nap that he’d been granted between Paris schedules, and he felt happily refreshed. The time difference and long flights and late nights had caught up with him and he was practically dragging his feet that morning. The rest of the members appeared immune to Yeonjun’s ailments, all hyper voices and fast feet and clapping hands every time they passed a new building. So he was dropped off and management promised to wake him up a few hours before dinner.
The door closed, and he was facedown in the pillows within seconds, snoring away.
When the managers did, indeed, wake him up, it was early evening and as he stretched in his bed and looked out at the Parisian horizon, he felt the familiar flutter of gratitude rush through him. What a lovely little life he had. Yawning, he dug around the sheets until he found his phone and opened it with the goal of finding out where they’d be eating. When he unlocked it, however, he saw the notification that Soobin had posted on Instagram. (Yes, he had his notifications on. It pissed Beomgyu off, but Yeonjun liked the younger to have to beg for his likes and comments.)
As always, he clicked on the notification to see what his leader had posted. He (naively) assumed it’d be a Paris photo set similar to what everyone else had been posting, with a few cute selcas thrown into the mix for moas (and Yeonjun’s) enjoyment. His assumptions appeared correct at first, and he found himself liking the post and smiling as he admired the cute photo booth selca.
And then the world as he knew it ended.
“What the fuck?” he shouted out loud, dropping his phone in his shock. He quickly scooped it back up and brought it close to his face. The third and fourth photos in the set seized Yeonjun’s heart and he felt like he was being strangled. His jaw was dropped in shock as he pinched his fingers to zoom in on Soobin’s face.
His normally cute and adorable leader could no longer be described with such terms. Words like hot, sexy, mouthwatering flooded Yeonjun’s mind and he felt dizzy as he stared at the screen. His heart was working overtime and he was so glad he was alone because if anyone saw him right then he’d die.
He rapidly scrolled through the rest of the photos, which were the normal Soobin-esque type of him posing in front of the Eiffel tower and looking dorky in his coat, but Yeonjun was still hyper fixated on those two pictures thrown into the mix as if they were unaware of how life-altering they’d be for him.
It was impossible to deny, Yeonjun realised as he locked his phone and buried his face in his hands. He’d known for a while, if he was being honest with himself, that what he felt toward Soobin was less than platonic. But he’d been able to manage those feelings and stuff them away and it really hadn’t been that hard because he was satisfied with how things were and didn’t want things to change. As long as he didn’t pay the feelings any attention they wouldn’t grow and everything would be okay.
But now they were hitting him like a sledgehammer, making his heart pound and his blood run warmer and his palms sweat. How was he supposed to face Soobin now after knowing he was capable of presenting himself like that. It went against every frame of reference Yeonjun had for the younger, and he didn’t know how to function. His mind immediately built a new frame of reference, a Choi Soobin as my boyfriend frame of reference, and Yeonjun was so, absolutely fucked.
He managed to keep it together through the dinner, despite being sat next to Soobin and the younger being full of stories to tell him about how he’d spent his afternoon while Yeonjun napped. And Yeonjun couldn’t help the way he listened with rapt attention, an embarrassingly fond smile resting on his face. He was sure he looked lovesick, and if the eyebrow raises Taehyun kept sending his way were any indication, everyone else could tell. But Soobin was being so cute as he talked and Beomgyu had the maknaes occupied with trying new French foods (that he was too afraid to try himself), so Yeonjun just let himself enjoy things.
When they all finished dinner, the younger trio retired up to the their rooms but Yeonjun was a bit restless from his nap. Soobin must’ve picked up on it, because he came up to Yeonjun’s side and asked, “Hyung, do you want to go find a place we can have dessert at?” Yeonjun grinned, reaching up to tickle Soobin’s earlobe. “You just want hyung to pay, don’t you?” he teased. Soobin flinched away from the touch and rolled his eyes, grabbing Yeonjun’s wrist and pulling them out of the restaurant.
“I haven’t seen you much today, maybe I just want to spend some time with you,” he answered. And normally, pre-Soobin’s photos wrecking Yeonjun’s entire existence, this wouldn’t be a big deal. It still probably wasn’t a big deal to Soobin, but to Yeonjun, he felt like it suddenly meant more. One-on-one time with his dongsaeng, free from cameras, in the city of love. How was he meant to not interpret things differently? He hoped he wasn’t blushing, because he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to actually tell Soobin how he felt. That was an entirely different story than this one.
So he took a breath and looped his arm through Soobin’s. “Aw, you missed me? You’re so cute, Soobinie!”
Well. So much for hiding how he felt.
Soobin only giggled, however, and looked away shyly, walking them down the sidewalk toward a quieter side street lined with different cafes and shops. “I also just like seeing you here, in Paris,” he said. Yeonjun furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?” Soobin turned to smile at him, eyes tracing over Yeonjun’s features in a way that made Yeonjun’s fingertips burn. They slowed their walking, and if Yeonjun wasn’t delusional, he’d think Soobin was looking at him with the same fondness that Yeonjun wore at the restaurant.
“You fit here, hyung,” he explained. “Like, the architecture and the people and the art and the ambience, it all compliments you. It’s like Paris lent itself to you, to make you look even handsomer than usual.”
And oh. Wow. Yeonjun didn’t know how to respond. He’d never been told something like that. He stared at Soobin in surprise, lips parted as he tried to find words. Soobin wasn’t shy about complimenting him, but this was different. It was poetic almost, and clearly thought out, and it made Yeonjun’s stupid feelings get all caught up in his throat, threatening to spill out all over the pavement.
Soobin giggled, poking Yeonjun’s cheek. “Just say ‘thank you for the amazing compliment’, hyung,” he joked. Yeonjun spluttered, playfully knocking Soobin’s hand away. “Yah, how am I supposed to just say ‘thank you’ to that?” he whined. “That was a really, really nice thing for you to say. I’m all gooey inside now.” The complete truth, disguised as an overdramatic reaction. But it made Soobin smile brightly, and he patted his shoulder. “Good. I like gooey Yeonjun-hyung.”
They started walking again, Soobin actively scoping out the cafe options, but Yeonjun couldn’t focus. His mind was racing and he felt like he had to say something to Soobin about how he glowed here, too. About how Yeonjun had never seen him look so angelic and mature, as if the museum paintings they’d seen had transferred their elements directly onto him. Yeonjun wanted to put him in a frame and hang him in the Louvre. Even if it was somewhere in the back, where nobody could see except for him. It would still be in the Louvre.
Where someone as beautiful as Soobin deserved to be.
“You know, the pictures you posted today made me scream when I saw them,” he blurted out, stopping in his tracks. Soobin turned to face him, lips forming an ‘o’ of surprise and a delicious blush painting his cheeks. Yeonjun’s own face was burning, but he powered through. Too late now, and his adrenaline was making things easier, strangely.
“The selcas you took in your hotel room,” he said, voice a little shaky. He was sure he looked crazy, eyes wide and wind blowing his hair every which way, but thankfully the streets were empty. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so handsome, before. I mean, you’ve always been cute to me, but there’s something different about you being here, too. You say that Paris lent itself to me, b-but…I’m pretty sure it lent itself to you, because I-I….”
He couldn’t finish, his feelings getting all twisted in his throat and the fear returning and rapidly replacing all the adrenaline. But Soobin didn’t look put off, or disgusted, or anything Yeonjun worried about. He looked even more surprised, and his cheeks were a bright cherry red, but he moved closer.
“Hyung? Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me, you don’t have to be scared,” he reassured, reaching out a hand to rest on Yeonjun’s shoulder. Yeonjun didn’t relax, he couldn’t, because as Soobin came closer, he was again assaulted with the fact that he was in love with this boy. Had been for a long time. He could either take the leap and fly, or take the leap and fall.
He had a feeling Soobin would catch him either way, though.
“Being here has just made me realise a few things about how I feel about you,” he whispered. He clenched his hands into fists and hoping Soobin attributed his shivering to the chilly air and not his nerves. The hand on his shoulder slowly slid down to rest on his torso, and Yeonjun took a fluttering breath, positive that Soobin could feel the ripple of his ribs against his fingertips.
“Yeonjun-hyung, look at me,” Soobin called. Yeonjun didn’t even realise he’d looked away, and he snapped his eyes back to lock with Soobin’s. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his expression wasn’t forlorn or apologetic. It was serious, intense, and it made Yeonjun shiver under his hand. “There’s been something bigger between us for a long time, I think we both know it. Are you sure you want to give Paris all the credit?”
Yeonjun gulped, and then slowly shook his head.
Soobin hummed, a small smile returning to his face. “I changed my mind,” he whispered. “I’d rather have dessert back in my hotel room, with you.”