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No one told Soobin that when you love someone, even after the fact, they remain a part of you — like an apparition that follows you aimlessly, or an extension of the critical thoughts inside your head.
Loving Yeonjun was a bittersweet experience, a lesson on how to give and to know when to let go. It consumed Soobin entirely when they were together, and years later, that love is still present. It resides within him, resting in the confines of Soobin’s heart, and it threatens to escape at even the slightest hint of reciprocation from the other.
At times, Soobin swears he can feel it; it lies in every lingering glance and careful touch, in the reassurances he’s too afraid to ask for but Yeonjun knows he needs, and in every “I told you so” that serves as a reminder that Yeonjun knows him better than Soobin knows himself. And tonight, that feeling proves itself mutual.
In a room full of strangers, they find themselves drifting closer to one another, clinging to each other in search of the comfort no one else present can provide. Soobin notices the smallest shifts in Yeonjun’s tone whenever he’s growing tired of a conversation and needs him to take over. He can sense Yeonjun’s nervousness by the way he downs glass after glass of champagne in what Soobin can only assume are attempts to help himself loosen up (and he’s guilty of this, as well). He can feel how tense Yeonjun is just from standing next to him, and Yeonjun is just as attentive — occasionally checking in on him to see how he’s feeling and rubbing circles into the small of his back to put him at ease.
It’s intuitive the way they care for one another, and thinking about it too hard makes Soobin’s heart ache a little.
With time, they eventually loosen up, the alcohol doing wonders for the both of them. Conversations become easier and time no longer feels like it’s dragging on. They find themselves enjoying their night, and being in the presence of so many strangers doesn’t feel nearly as suffocating as it did an hour before. Hearing the sound of Yeonjun’s laughter makes Soobin feel lighter, as well; he thinks it might be contagious because even the silliest comments have him giggling like a child.
Or… Maybe it’s just the alcohol, he considers.
Yeah, Soobin thinks, struggling to recount how many glasses he’s gone through when Yeonjun offers him a sip from his own. It’s definitely the alcohol.
Near the end of the event, with just minutes left before the final guest performance, Soobin feels a light tug on his sleeve. He looks over to his left, his eyes meeting Yeonjun’s. He already has an idea of what he might want.
“Come with me?” he mouths to Soobin, to which he nods, extending a hand to him. At that, Yeonjun laces their fingers together and Soobin allows himself to be whisked away.
They stumble through the crowd, heading straight towards the restrooms. They know the route like the back of their hands with how many times they’ve gone tonight. Yeonjun was the first to suggest they go together, and after that initial trip, it stuck — Soobin pulling Yeonjun along whenever he needed to go and vice versa.
(To say they’re more comfortable by each other’s side would be an understatement, but the implications are far too complicated to dwell on. At least right now.)
“Ugh, too much champagne,” Yeonjun groans when they finally enter, and Soobin makes a noise in agreement as he watches him disappear into one of the stalls.
He whips around to face the mirror once Yeonjun is gone, and nearly loses his balance in the process. Placing his hands on the countertop to steady himself, Soobin looks up and suddenly becomes distracted by his own reflection in the glass. He’s way past tipsy at this point, he can see it in his eyes; they’re tired and slightly red as they stare back at him. He sighs, fixing his hair as it’s the least he can do, and straightens his blazer so he looks somewhat decent when they make their exit.
By the time he’s satisfied with his appearance, a stall opens from behind him, and out walks Yeonjun with his long legs and confident stride. He shoots Soobin a wide smile as he makes his way to the sink next to him.
“I’m gonna pretend the walls aren’t spinning a bit,” Yeonjun blurts while looking at Soobin through the mirror — a testament to just how much he’s consumed tonight. Soobin is thoroughly amused, doubling over into laughter at his words and Yeonjun joins in, the two cracking up until they grow weak in their stomachs and redder in the cheeks.
“Yeah, no more drinks for you.” Soobin takes a step closer, eyeing him and down before putting up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Yeonjun rolls his eyes at the question, flicking water into Soobin’s face for asking such a silly thing. “I’m tipsy, not blind, idiot.” He still laughs along, nonetheless. “I can still see… For now.” He winks.
Soobin cracks a smile. “Just making sure. Can’t have the star of our group running into walls at a public event.”
Yeonjun snorts. “That’s why you’re here, obviously,” he jokes. “To make sure I don’t embarrass myself.” He reaches past Soobin to grab a couple of paper towels, drying his hands and tossing them in the trash after.
“Oh, is that what I’m here for?” Soobin shakes his head and releases a dramatic sigh, then places a hand over his heart to feign sorrow. “I think it might be a little too late for that, hyung.”
“Shut up,” Yeonjun huffs, shoving Soobin lightly, their laughter filling the air as he stumbles backwards. “Like you’re any less embarrassing with your two left feet.”
Soobin steadies himself. “I’d rather spend the entire night tripping over my own feet than making people sit through my terrible jokes,” he shoots back, his tone teasing. “You’re lucky you look so handsome tonight, hyung. It makes up for your awful sense of humor.”
“Handsome, huh?” Yeonjun hums, ignoring his jab completely. His eyes flick up to Soobin’s, his voice low as he asks, “You really think so, Soobin-ah?”
Soobin blinks at the question, his face growing warm at the sudden turn this has taken. He didn’t think that that comment of all things is what Yeonjun would choose to focus on, but Soobin can’t say he’s surprised.
He tries to think of a response but his mind fails him, fixating on the littlest things instead: each second that passes without a single word exchanged between them, each breath he forgets to take in those seconds of silence, how hot he feels under Yeonjun’s heavy gaze, how hot it is in the bathroom in general…
It’s so damn hot.
Soobin takes a step back to create some space between them, hoping it will help, only for his foot to hit the wall behind him.
“Uh…” He shifts awkwardly, eyes still on Yeonjun.
Were they always standing this close?
Yeonjun cuts him off before he can continue. “Thank you,” he says, saving him the embarrassment of fumbling his words. And Soobin would’ve been genuinely thankful if it weren’t for what the other man does next.
Yeonjun reaches for the lapels of Soobin’s blazer, eyeing him up and down as he readjusts them for him. His hands remain there even after the fact, like a weight against Soobin’s chest. He doesn’t miss the way Yeonjun glances down at his lips before meeting his eyes again, or the smirk that lingers on his own as he does so.
God. Soobin feels dizzy. So, so dizzy, and this time the alcohol isn’t to blame.
“You look handsome, too, Soobin-ah.”
There’s something about the way Yeonjun says it, something about the look in his eyes, that sort of feels like a challenge. Like he’s daring Soobin in, trying to draw him closer, and the sound of his voice is so intoxicating that Soobin almost falls victim.
He eventually snaps out of whatever trance-like state Yeonjun had him in, clearing his throat and letting out a quick “thanks” in response. It’s all Soobin manages to get out, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.
Yeonjun smiles back at Soobin, bright and beautiful, and appearing satisfied. Whether it’s because of his actual response or the obvious effect he has on him, Soobin isn’t sure.
Truthfully, he would rather not think about it.
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The ride back to the dorm is fairly quiet, apart from their manager snoring in the backseat and their driver occasionally asking questions about the event. Yeonjun attempts to hold a conversation with the man but keeps drifting in and out of sleep, leaving Soobin to fill in the details whenever he inevitably trails off.
Not even ten minutes into the ride, Yeonjun is out completely.
But that’s okay. Soobin doesn’t mind being the only one awake or the silence that takes over; it gives him an opportunity to process all that’s occurred during the night. The one thing his mind keeps drifting back to, though, despite his attempts to let it go, is that last trip to the restroom with Yeonjun…
While nothing really happened, he can’t help but dwell on the tension between them and all that could’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten so in his head.
It’s always the what-ifs that haunt him. Soobin has a history of never allowing himself to have what he truly wants, whether it’s due to his own doubts or out of fear of fucking things up — they both tie him down and keep him from exploring even the mildest of his desires. It’s a shame, really, how easily he succumbs to his anxieties.
It’s the reason things ended with Yeonjun. Or, well, the reason he ended things with Yeonjun. Everything was going perfectly fine until his brain decided that it wasn’t. Until Soobin decided that he wasn’t good enough for someone like him, whose ambitions would carry him further than a relationship with Soobin ever could. And while Soobin wouldn’t normally consider himself a pessimist, it was that exact mindset that brought him back to square one — yearning for someone so close, who in his mind felt so out of reach.
Soobin sighs, resting his head against the window. If he thinks about it any longer, he’ll end up giving himself a headache, so he tries to avoid those thoughts altogether, finding temporary relief on the cool surface. But Yeonjun remains clear in his view; Soobin catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass as he rests peacefully beside him. Soobin wonders if he sleeps just as soundly in his own bed at night, or if thoughts of Soobin and what they were once were haunt him as well.
He doubts it, though, Yeonjun has always been so much stronger than that. He isn’t the type to be ruled by the ghosts of his past.
Soobin wishes he were more like him in that way.
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It’s close to one a.m. by the time they get back to the dorm, and the one thing Soobin finds himself craving more than anything when they return is to be alone.
He needs some time to decompress, to finally feel at ease. After such a long day followed by an even more eventful night, Soobin wants nothing more than to crawl back into his bed, wrap himself in every blanket he owns, and simply relax.
But first, he needs to shower.
One thing Soobin loves about their new dorm is that one of the two bathrooms is connected to his room. This means less fighting over who gets to shower first (on his part) and no more walks to the other end of the hall whenever he has to pee in the middle of the night.
It’s convenient. For him, at least. And it allows him to get through his night routine with little to no interruption.
Soobin’s routine is simple but incredibly calming. He finds great comfort standing under the shower for forty minutes with his playlist of choice on shuffle. It works wonders to relieve him of the stress he’d been carrying with him throughout the day. It’s healing, especially on longer nights, and tonight is no different.
Tonight, Soobin is serenaded by soothing voices and sweet melodies. By songs he keeps just as close to him as the people they remind him of. He closes his eyes, allowing each one of them to wash over him like the water dripping from his body, and sings his heart out until his mind is rid of the thoughts that usually keep him further from sleep.
Soobin takes his time drying off once he gets out, and even more time on his skincare routine after. He falls into the motions naturally, humming along to the tunes of AKMU and IU while he goes through each step. It’s so easy, on both his mind and his body, and for the first time in hours, he finally feels at peace. His mind isn’t swarming with thoughts of how he should look, or act, or the things he should’ve said or done. And for the first time in hours, Yeonjun barely crosses his mind.
Baking videos are an even greater distraction, Soobin later finds when he’s tucked comfortably in bed, his laptop open beside him. One red velvet cake video led to another which then led him down an entire rabbit hole full of homemade desserts he’d like to make himself one day. He even pauses at one point, thinking of the recipes he felt confident enough to tackle on his own, and opens his notes app to jot down their names and ingredients lists for the future.
He gets about halfway through writing the ingredients for a strawberry chocolate cake recipe before he’s interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. It nearly startles him, but after another, he pushes his covers to the side and finally gets out of bed to see who it could be.
When he opens his door and comes face to face with whoever's on the other side, Soobin feels like he shouldn’t be surprised. It only makes sense that when he finally manages to escape the thought of him, the universe is there to remind him that it will always have the upper hand.
“Hey…” Yeonjun greets him, holding a towel and what appears to be a change of clothes in his hands. “Is it okay if I use your shower?”
Soobin tilts his head. “You haven’t showered yet?”
It’s well past two now, and they have a few schedules to attend the following day. Hell, their manager wouldn’t let them forget, sending out multiple texts to their group chat before the night even began. So why Yeonjun would wait this late to wash up and settle down is beyond him.
Yeonjun smiles sheepishly. “The kids beat me to it.”
Figures.
While there are many conveniences to having a bathroom in his room and Soobin is thankful that he doesn’t have to walk a few extra steps to use it at night, he still has to deal with moments like this, where one or more of the members are quick show up the second the other bathroom is occupied. Which, Soobin supposes is fair since he was very much guilty of doing the same at their previous place, but for someone — Yeonjun, of all people — to stop by his room at this time of night is just criminal.
“I’m not waking you, am I?” Yeonjun asks suddenly, his voice apologetic, eyes widening in concern. “I was gonna shower after Taehyun but apparently Beomgyu already called dibs, and I thought about going after him, but you know how long he takes in there. I noticed a light on and assumed you were still up, but if not—”
“Hyung, it’s fine,” Soobin says. He understands, he’s been there, too. “You can come in.” He steps out of the doorway, allowing Yeonjun to enter. “And I was already up, so please don’t worry about it.”
Yeonjun lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he says. “I promise I won’t be long.”
He stays true to his promise; he’s in and out of the shower quickly, before Soobin can even get through another baking video. It’s not like he would have been able to focus on the remainder of it though, his mind long since returning to its regularly scheduled programming.
The star of the show makes his appearance, returning from the bathroom in a loose tank and black sweats, his hair damp and hands shoved into his pockets as he enters the space. Soobin is in awe at the way Yeonjun walks in every room like he owns it, at how easily he captures the attention of others without words. It’s truly captivating the way he carries himself. How could Soobin not fall for him all those years ago?
“You’re running out of conditioner.”
Observant, as well. The full package.
“You used my conditioner?” Soobin asks, sitting up as Yeonjun approaches him. It’s just an attempt to make conversation. He doesn’t care much, really.
Yeonjun sends a soft smile in his direction. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, taking a seat at the edge of his bed, already so comfortable in Soobin’s space.
“It’s fine,” Soobin assures him. Honestly, Yeonjun could’ve dumped the entire bottle of conditioner on the floor in front of him and he still wouldn’t have minded. He isn’t really sure what that says about him. “What has you up so late, anyway? You’re usually one of the first ones out.”
“Ah,” Yeonjun rubs the back of his neck, looking down and pausing shortly. “I couldn’t sleep,” is all he says.
Soobin eyes him curiously. “Things on your mind?”
He simply shrugs. “I guess you could say that.”
Hm.
It’s not much of an answer. It causes Soobin more confusion than anything, but Yeonjun is quick to change the subject before he can inquire any further. “So, what are you watching?” he asks, gesturing to Soobin’s laptop.
“Oh, uh—” He redirects his attention to the strawberry chocolate cake video that’s paused on screen. “Just some baking videos,” he shrugs. “Trying to get some inspiration for what to try next.”
Yeonjun smirks, shooting him a knowing look. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”
Soobin snorts, shaking his head.
If only he knew.
“Is it okay if I join you then?” Yeonjun asks after a beat of silence, the question catching Soobin by surprise. He struggles to control his expression for a moment, his eyes nearly widening when Yeonjun adds, “You know, to keep each other company.”
To keep each other company… That sounds dangerously familiar. Almost as dangerous as Soobin’s inability to tell him no. But as nervous as the suggestion makes him, he kind of likes the sound of it. He supposes watching a couple of videos with Yeonjun couldn’t hurt.
“Sure,” Soobin decides, giving it no further thought. He moves over to make room for Yeonjun to join, lifting his covers and patting the empty spot beside him. Yeonjun climbs in, accepting his invitation, and settles into bed next to Soobin.
This isn’t very typical of them; it’s been a while since he and Yeonjun have spent time alone like this. Soobin can’t even remember the last time they shared a bed, just the two of them, so in a way, this all feels very new to him. But Soobin thinks it could be good for them — for himself, especially. Maybe the secret to finally getting over your ex is spending more time with them.
Avoidance hasn’t been doing him any favors.
Yeonjun is quieter than usual. At least, more than Soobin expects him to be. They’re a few videos in and he’s commented on some things here and there, like the baker’s techniques and the outcome of the desserts (his favorite by far being a batch of panda shaped cookies, which Soobin admits he also found adorable). But for the most part, he’s silent, and Soobin isn’t sure if it’s because he’s that invested in the creation of these treats, or if his mind has drifted elsewhere.
He thinks back to when Yeonjun avoided his question earlier, his vague response puzzling Soobin. What was keeping him up so late? He wonders. Are those same thoughts on his mind at this moment?
Or perhaps, there isn’t an issue at all and Soobin is reading into it too much. Yeonjun is probably exhausted, likely drained from all the socializing — not to mention the alcohol, which never fails to tire him out.
Soobin is honestly surprised he hasn’t dozed off yet. He thought he would, a couple of videos back, when Yeonjun laid a hand on his shoulder and brought his lips up to his ear, asking for Soobin’s permission to rest his head there. And Soobin let him, of course, eventually mastering the art of nonchalance — successfully maintaining his composure whenever Yeonjun spoke and his breath tickled his skin.
All that to say, Yeonjun seems fairly comfortable at the moment. There’s no reason for Soobin to believe there’s anything wrong, and yet, he still feels compelled to say something. Maybe it’s the leader in him, always ready to offer space and be an emotional support for his members when needed. Or maybe it’s the concerned ex-boyfriend, who’s prone to worrying but whose intuition has never failed him.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Soobin says, deciding he will say something after all. The phrase sounds a bit awkward coming from his lips, but it does the job of grabbing Yeonjun’s attention.
He lifts his head at Soobin’s voice, averting his gaze from the screen to get a better look at him. “He has really nice hands,” Yeonjun replies.
He, as in the baker, Soobin assumes. And while it is true — his hands are quite nice — Soobin finds this response hilarious for some reason. He chuckles fondly to himself, shaking his head as Yeonjun looks at him, seemingly confused. Soobin notices his stare and attempts to better explain, “I meant, is there something on your mind unrelated to the video?”
Then it seems to click, a drawn out “ohhh” escaping Yeonjun’s lips when it dawns on him. He buries his head in the crook of Soobin’s shoulder, laughing softly. The sound is so precious, Soobin thinks he might die.
“Binnie,” Yeonjun mumbles, his cheek pressed against him, the nickname unleashing a wave of emotions in Soobin. Beginning at his ears and his cheeks, they grow red with warmth as butterflies fill his stomach, making themselves at home there. All the while, Yeonjun’s soothing voice fills Soobin’s ears. “Always so thoughtful and sweet… You don’t need to worry about me,” he says. Though, it makes Soobin worry no less.
“I’ll always worry about you,” he tells Yeonjun. He wants to make it clear. No matter what becomes of their relationship, he’ll always care.
“I know,” Yeonjun sighs, like it’s expected of him. “I just wish you wouldn’t so much.”
Soobin has always been this way, so concerned with the matters of Yeonjun. Ever since he first stepped foot in the company all those years ago and saw his name printed above everyone else’s. He heard it in echoes across the halls, uttered by those whose faces he can’t even remember, but the first time they locked eyes, Soobin recognized him immediately. Yeonjun held his gaze from across the room, eyes sharp on him as if he were looking right through him, and Soobin was instantly drawn. Has been ever since.
“I can’t help it,” Soobin replies, almost helplessly, “I can never tell what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling. You never tell me anything anymore, hyung.”
“You’re the same way, you know.” Yeonjun repositions himself to face Soobin, locking eyes with him, as if to make sure he’s taking in every word he’s saying. “You’ve been so distant lately. I miss feeling close to you and actually spending time with you… I miss you so much, Soobin-ah.”
“I miss you, too, hyung. All the time,” Soobin confesses. It all comes out before he can catch himself. “I find myself missing you constantly.”
For a second, Soobin thinks he might’ve said too much — that his words will only push Yeonjun further away in the end, but he’s no longer sure if that’s the case. There’s a flicker of something in Yeonjun’s eyes, a flash of hope, maybe. It’s not the look of judgment that Soobin had been expecting.
“Then show me,” Yeonjun says, surprising Soobin. So bold, his expression firm. It can only mean one thing, Soobin realizes.
Yeonjun is looking up at Soobin expectantly, like he’s waiting for him to make a move. Like he’s so sure of what he wants and Soobin desperately wants to give it to him.
It’s reminiscent of their first kiss, in that empty BigHit practice room where every footstep echoed and they spent the majority of their time. Yeonjun had the same daring look in his eyes back then, shining with a passion only seen when he was center on stage, and Soobin could only hold his breath as his hyung inched closer,
It’s now or never, said a small voice in Soobin’s head. You’ll never get another opportunity like this, it echoed in the back of his mind, the fear of letting Yeonjun slip right through his fingers overshadowing every other emotion causing his heart to stutter and his already aching knees to grow weak.
Soobin leaned into him, hesitant, his younger self afraid that the second his shaky fingers touched Yeonjun’s skin it would ruin the moment. Though, Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind, and that scared Soobin even more for some reason. Nevertheless, he gave him exactly what he wanted — gave in to what he himself had been yearning for, for months. And as their lips met for the very first time, Yeonjun’s hot on his like a fire, Soobin finally understood the passion burning in Yeonjun’s heart — why one would be so willing to dedicate themselves to something so unpredictable.
He remembers it vividly: the feeling of Yeonjun’s fingertips gripping his forearm, the smell of Yeonjun’s shampoo hitting his nose (that tea tree 3-in-1), and the taste of mint lip balm on Yeonjun’s lips that he had a terrible habit of chewing on. It was the start of everything Soobin’s teenage self was too afraid to fully commit to, and it’s all coming back to him now.
“You’re thinking too much,” Yeonjun says to him, pulling him away from his thoughts. He’s right and Soobin knows it. It’s all he ever does. “It’s just me, Soobin-ah,” he continues, as if it’s supposed to put his nervous mind at ease. Little does he know, it’s the fact that it is him that scares Soobin the most.
Given their history, he can’t help but wonder how Yeonjun could still want him in any way. How could Yeonjun ever trust Soobin with his heart again? Soobin feels so undeserving of his patience and his affection, of the way he speaks to him so softly and the adoring look in his eyes. But when Yeonjun moves closer and places a hand on his thigh, repeating his previous words in a whisper: “It’s just me,” Soobin no longer has it in him to question or resist. He surrenders to Yeonjun like he did all those years ago, his eyes fluttering shut as he finally closes the space in between them.
Kissing him, Soobin realizes, feels like falling all over again. Each press of their lips is so tender, the taste of Yeonjun on his tongue so familiar and sweet.
Yeonjun guides him slowly, placing a steady hand on his cheek to deepen the kiss, and Soobin leans into him, nearly melting at his touch. Yeonjun has always been so gentle with him — even now, despite his eagerness. Even now, as Yeonjun’s hands travel down the back of Soobin’s neck and he slips his slender fingers through his hair.
Everything, from the way Yeonjun takes control to the feeling of Yeonjun’s lips against own, drives Soobin absolutely crazy. But Soobin really loses it when the faint smell of his own shampoo in Yeonjun’s hair hits his nose — the hints of orange and vanilla, so subtle but impossible to miss. It takes everything in him not to open his eyes right then and there just to make sure everything he’s feeling is real, but as always, Yeonjun’s touch keeps him at bay and that’s more than enough for him at the moment.
Their breaths are heavy when they finally part, Soobin letting out a nervous laugh when Yeonjun seeks his eyes. He feels shy for some reason, as if this isn’t territory they’ve crossed many times. But it’s been long since, and even then, Soobin never really got used to having Yeonjun so close.
When Soobin finally takes him in, he notices a blush painting Yeonjun’s cheeks, similar to the deep red of his swollen lips. He looks so beautiful like this. For a few moments, Soobin just stares at him and says nothing at all. There’s so much he wants to say, so many words at the tip of his tongue that he doubts would even come out coherently because he’s just so taken by him.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night,” Yeonjun says, suddenly breaking the silence. “I was starting to think I’d never get to.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to,” Soobin admits.
Yeonjun tilts his head, his brows furrowing. “Was I not obvious?”
“To be honest with you, I think I was more concerned about not being so obvious myself.”
Yeonjun chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re so clueless sometimes,” he says, but Soobin can tell that he means no offense by it. Yeonjun has always been much kinder to him than Soobin feels he deserves. Maybe that’s part of the reason he could never find it in himself to stop loving him.
“Come here,” Yeonjun whispers as he leans back in, the tip of his nose brushing Soobin’s lightly. It’s then Soobin decides there’s no more room left for caution, not when Yeonjun has made it clear that he’s been waiting for this all along, too.
All of a sudden, it’s like every worry occupying Soobin’s mind has disappeared, his only remaining weakness being the feeling of Yeonjun’s breath ghosting over his lips. He conquers this as well, reconnecting them with a swiftness that seems to take them both by surprise. Yeonjun gasps against him, the sound so sweet to Soobin’s ears like a reminder of everything he’s missed — of the intimacy he's long craved.
Soobin isn’t sure where things will go from here, or if they’ll ever be able to mend the broken bones of their relationship, but he tries not to dwell on it too much. Having Yeonjun here, like this, is already more than he could ask for, so he savors every second of it.
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A question comes just as the sun makes her appearance the following morning. She rises, filtering through Soobin’s window blinds, her rays dancing across his bedroom as they paint patterns across his walls and carpeted floor. It’s a beautiful sight and Soobin welcomes it warmly as he holds Yeonjun tight against his chest.
“Can I be honest with you?”
There it is.
The words come out quietly, but there’s a hint of something in Yeonjun’s voice that Soobin can’t quite place… Concern? Unease? He isn’t really sure, but it’s a bit daunting to hear — especially when Soobin was just getting used to having Yeonjun in his arms again. Even more so when Soobin was delusional enough to believe that everything would be alright between them after the night they spent together, but now reality is setting in.
Soobin loosens his arms around Yeonjun’s frame and tries not to let the unsettling feeling in his chest overwhelm him. “Of course,” he replies calmly, a facade that threatens to break the second Yeonjun turns in his arms to face him.
Soobin is met with tired eyes and downturned lips, and the look of what he assumes is disappointment (possibly regret) clear across his features. With the light of the sun hitting Yeonjun’s face, it’s impossible to miss — illuminating the faint creases in his brows and the redness of his freshly bitten lips. He’d be a fool to expect anything good to come from them.
“I feel like I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Yeonjun says, and Soobin braces himself for whatever truths he’ll soon have to face.
“I still have feelings for you, Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun confesses, his eyes fixed on Soobin as he speaks. They’re unwavering as they stare into his own. “I’m still in love with you.”
It’s not at all what Soobin's expecting. For a second he thinks he might have misheard, or that his brain is playing tricks on him and he’s gone full on delusional. Or maybe he’s still asleep, deep in slumber and dreaming of scenarios that he knew could never be. At least then, there would be no risk of him ruining everything all over again.
When their relationship ended, neither of them were able to get the closure they truly needed. Yeonjun, especially, who was heartbroken by Soobin’s decision to break things off. ‘It’s better off this way,’ Soobin recalls telling him, for their growth as people and their careers in the long run; and Yeonjun took his words with consideration and trust, believing Soobin would always have the best interest of their relationship in mind. And for that very reason, Soobin feels guilty — for letting Yeonjun believe his decision was rooted in anything but selfishness, and for allowing his own fears and insecurities to take lead in their relationship instead of finding the will to overcome them.
Soobin wishes to convey this all to him, but he doesn’t even know where to begin. How does one say, I love you too I always have I’m sorry I couldn’t be strong enough for the both of us, without sounding like such a coward?
“I love you, too,” Soobin says. It’s the truth, a start. “I’m still in love with you, I mean.” He prays it doesn’t sound as awkward as it felt to say. He’s gotten a bit rusty at these things — confessions, saying I love you. While the feeling itself isn’t foreign, finding the courage to express it wasn’t exactly easy, and he’s sure it was no easier for Yeonjun. None of this must’ve been.
“I’m sorry,” he adds weakly, though he knows it isn’t enough. It won’t make up for all the years yearning and the time lost between them.
Yeonjun must sense Soobin’s frustration, the concern in his eyes as clear as day. He reaches out to him, caressing his cheek before asking softly, “What are you so sorry for?”
“For the way things ended between us.”
Silence fills the air, and there’s a change in Yeonjun’s expression. His jaw tenses slightly following Soobin’s response; it’s so subtle that he almost misses it.
“Look,” Yeonjun says, “I won’t pretend I wasn’t hurt by the way things ended between us because we both know that isn't true, but I know you had your reasons, Soobin-ah. I know it was never your intention to hurt me.”
Soobin shakes his head, sighing. “That doesn’t make it any better. I was afraid and I kept making excuses for myself. That wasn’t fair to you at all, hyung.” There’s a beat of silence before he continues, “You were nothing but good to me our entire relationship. You were so patient and understanding, even when you didn’t need to be. You taught me everything; what it meant to love, how it felt to receive that love in return. You were my entire world back then, Yeonjun, and yet I could never see what you saw in me. I kept thinking that one day you’d wake up and realize that you no longer could either, and for a while, I couldn’t shake that thought.”
He’s aware of how ridiculous it sounds. Even more so, in hindsight. And even though he’s grown past this mindset, Soobin can’t help but feel ashamed by it. It’s one thing to live with these insecurities inside your head — for them to creep in and make homes for themselves in the corners of your mind — but it’s another for them to seep into other areas of your life, permeating the spaces and relationships you feel the most safe.
“I had no idea you felt that way.”
“I never wanted you to,” Soobin admits, a part of him still embarrassed by the irrationality of it all. “I relied on you so heavily, I didn’t want to burden you with those feelings, too.”
“Your feelings were never a burden to me,” Yeonjun says. He sounds genuinely hurt by the implication.
Soobin frowns, not meaning to cause offense, and clarifies, “You have the most precious soul, hyung, I’ve only ever felt loved by you. I think I was just too young to understand how to navigate those emotions at the time, and I thought the best way of doing so was on my own.”
Yeonjun nods, sighing. “I understand," he says. The two were very similar in that way.
“I'm sorry again,” Soobin apologizes once more, “for everything.”
“It’s fine, Soobin-ah. Really,” Yeonjun assures him. “We were both so young back then, I don’t think either of us were ready to commit to something so serious.”
“Didn’t stop us from signing a seven-year contract,” Soobin jokes. It’s stupid, but the way Yeonjun laughs in response makes his heart swell in his chest.
“I guess that’s true,” Yeonjun agrees, his cheeks rising adorably as he smiles. Soobin finds himself smiling, too. “Now look at us, going to big events and shit.” The two laugh, Yeonjun stopping shortly to say, “I was serious when I said you looked handsome last night, Bin-ah. I meant it, you really did.”
There’s a sweetness to his tone, the words sounding so fond as they leave his lips, and a warmth in his eyes that makes Soobin feel more at ease than he’d previously been.
“So did you,” Soobin replies fondly, the memory still fresh in his mind. The way Yeonjun clung to him closely in that dimly lit restroom — the intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze and the air in between them. Even then, it had been clear how much they’d wanted each other.
Yeonjun lies across from him prettily, his face bare and eyes bright; they’re so close that Soobin could count every one of his eyelashes if he wanted to. He could lean over and kiss the mole underneath Yeonjun’s right eye, or press kisses onto his bare shoulders like he did the previous night. And though he’s tempted, he needs to make one thing clear.
“I meant what I said earlier, too,” Soobin says. His heartbeat quickens as soon as it leaves his mouth. You’ve already gotten over the hard part, Soobin tries to remind himself, but it doesn’t stop the slight tremor in his voice when he speaks. “I’ve never stopped loving you, hyung, and I want to give this another try if that’s something you’d want, too.”
Yeonjun’s eyes soften and he takes Soobin’s hands into his own. They're clammy, Soobin notices, but he finds the warmth of them oddly comforting.
“Of course, I want to.” Yeonjun says, squeezing Soobin’s hands gently, “But only if we agree to take things slow this time around. I know it’s been years since our breakup and we’ve both grown so much since then, but I’d rather not rush into anything. I want to do this right." He looks Soobin directly in the eyes, “I want to take my time with you.”
Soobin isn’t sure what it is that really gets him — whether it’s the sincerity of his hyung’s words, the way Yeonjun looks at him with so much affection, or simply knowing that Yeonjun desires to be with him, too. After years of regret and uncertainty, Soobin feels like he can finally breathe. Like an invisible weight has been lifted from where his heart lies in his chest, and he can finally move on with the person he loves.
“Then we’ll take things slow,” Soobin agrees, sending Yeonjun a warm smile.
Yeonjun beams back brightly and presses a kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you," he says, wrapping his arms around Soobin. "I love you," he adds more quietly.
“I love you, too,” Soobin whispers as he holds Yeonjun close.
This time, with no intention of letting go.