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They're allowed a bit of spare time to fuck around on set once the cameras are cut for the day. Some of them take off for the field to kick a ball around; the others decide they're done for the day, choosing to slip their schoolboy jackets off and seek the warmth of the indoors instead.
Hansol's feet take him back to the single beam monkey bar. They'd had their fun earlier, jumping around and threatening to step on each other. Hansol carefully steps right under the bar, rocking his heels back and forth as he raises his arms and feels for the solid length of metal above him. It'd been more malleable than he'd expected, on his turn. He thinks about Soonyoung lifting himself up with ease and hooking his knees over the bar.
He could do that, he thinks. He wants to know if he can. So he does—Hansol takes a breath and hoists himself up. His arms burn, and he knocks his knee into the bar as he kicks up to get up and over it, but he manages with just enough strength that he doesn't need to try too hard.
Blood rushes to his head as he lets himself fall back, arms loose, shoulders untensed, eyes shut. There's a brisk chill on his cheeks from the wind; a little distance away, someone yells about a missed goal.
Leaves crunch underfoot. There's a sigh before him, and then Seungkwan says, whisper-soft, "You better not fall off that thing. I'm not carrying you home."
"I won't," Hansol promises. He opens his eyes, and Seungkwan is upside-down, rooted skyward as he looks at Hansol with an amused little smile. He hasn't changed out of his own uniform yet, still wearing the cute pink backpack that Chan and Junhui had snuck snacks into before the shoot began. "Hi."
"Hi," Seungkwan echoes, stepping closer. It's easy enough to pull him in by the front of his cosy padded jacket, to bring him near enough that their noses are almost touching. His bangs are windswept, cheeks ruddy from the cold. Seungkwan lets out a laugh, and combs his fingers through Hansol's hair. Thumbs lightly over his ears and over the corners of his mouth. The motions are casual and easy, but they speak of a far deeper familiarity than anyone would ever know. "Don't you feel dizzy?"
Hansol shakes his head. "I like it," he says. He does. It makes his head feel a bit floaty. that's all. Drives all the thoughts out, makes him feel like he doesn't have anything to worry over, even if it's just for a minute. The tips of his fingers feel tight, and the backs of his knees ache, but it's a good sort of feeling. The same sort of good feeling he gets when he curls up under a heavy blanket, or when he rubs his lips against this one sweater that Seungkwan likes to wear on their days off.
Seungkwan sighs again, just as gentle and knowing as before. "Sweet boy," he says. "Do you want me to wait for you here, or by the car?"
"Here." Hansol noses at Seungkwan's cheek. The motion makes Seungkwan's smile grow, the same way flowers unfurl in the warmth of the morning sun. "Thank you."
"Mm." It's easy enough for Seungkwan to tilt his head in response, to press a light, dry kiss to Hansol's mouth. "Take your time."
When you're upside-down, it feels like all your organs are putting extra weights on your lungs. Your heart starts to pump harder than it usually does. There's a pressure behind your eyes that won't let up. You're lightheaded, you're burning up. Hansol wonders if Peter Parker has ever thought about the fact that being upside down feels a lot like being in love.
Hansol lets his eyes fall shut again, and listens for the sound of Seungkwan's shoes as he moves away.
They don't go far. They never do.