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1
Butterflies spread their wings and you see eyes in their scales. Gunil looks for the eyes in everything, and looks for everything in the eyes. Sometimes he stares too long, borders on the brink of unnerving. He can’t help it. He learned the phrase eyes are the window to the soul and he took it serious.
He’s got his members’ eyes memorized, knows how they flutter and dilate and squint depending on the slightest ripples of their temperament. Knows the difference in the narrowed eyes of a smile and the narrowed eyes of a glare. Knowing his members down to the iris is simply a skill he’s fought to acquire. He can’t ever be a lacking leader.
And Jungsu’s eyes are some of his favorite. The catlike curve of them, the simultaneous softness and sharpness. The way they disappear beneath whisker cheeks when he laughs, the way his lashes still over them, statuesque when he focuses. Gunil is convinced they sparkle, and he’ll keep staring to make sure.
Jungsu stares. Not at Gunil, hardly ever at Gunil. Like the same poles of a magnet, their stares would repel. Jungsu stares at Jiseok, while Jiseok speaks into the mic, his own eyes bright and starry, always are. Jungsu’s gaze drips a syrupy sweetness that ventures just beyond fondness. Not at all tentative, not at all fearful.
Jungsu’s affection is like that. An expression that if he’d be forced to subdue, would simmer and boil into a helpless frustration that would turn Jungsu from sweet to sour. No one wants that. Everyone likes Jungsu just the way he is. At least Gunil does. Gunil likes him the way he is a lot. So he's more than content with letting, watching, Jungsu stare .
Jiseok's cheeks go a little pink, no doubt noticing the attention. Jungsu is anything but subtle regarding the younger members. Gunil isn't one to judge. He imagines he's the same, if not worse.
His name is called, a question for him. Naturally, Jungsu looks his way too, and Gunil turns his head, speaks into the mic, wondering faintly, how he's supposed to apprehend anyone's reaction to his voice, if he can't see their eyes.
Oh well. He supposes he can't stare all the time.
2
On the other hand, Jiseok is subtle. Or at least, he tries his very hardest to be. He could be succesful, perhaps Gunil just pays too close attention to be fooled. To Jiseok's disadvantage, his eyes are wide, they're big and all encompassing, less sparkling puddles, more oceans. Jiseok's eyes hide nothing.
Jiseok may wear a cute pout on his lips, knit his brows together in faux discontent, but his eyes shine, as Jungsu teases him. Relentlessly so, from across the dorm as Jungsu helps Hyeongjun cook something up in the kitchen, Jiseok beside Gunil on the couch as he and Jooyeon try and battle over what to watch.
Gunil hardly knows what Jungsu is saying, voice muffled over boiling water and the thud of blade hitting wood. He knows though that it makes Jiseok blush and flounder for refute. He throws an arm over the back of the couch, spins his body around to tell Jungsu off. But his shoulders slump and his frown unfurls.
Jungsu's laughter paired with Hyeongjun's spills over the pots and pans, and Gunil can imagine what Jiseok is seeing quite well, can see the reflection in his pupils. Jungsu with his wide-dextrous palms, struggling to do something Hyeongjun can do with practiced ease. A new dish he's yet to make not under the watch of his mother or father.
Gunil smiles softly to himself, looks away when Jiseok slides back into the couch cushions, looking defeated, at a loss for words. Gunil covers his mouth with his hand. "You pick, Joo," he hums, giving Jiseok the mercy of not having to continue this worthless fight, "We'll watch whatever you want."
Sighing almost inaudibly, Jiseok kicks himself into a comfortable position, leaning his head on Gunil's shoulder, almost as if seeking consolidation. Gunil pats his head lightly.
2.5
They won't look at each other. They won't look at anyone else. Their heads are ducked between risen shoulders, and the nervous air they radiate, is steadily becoming contagious. Gunil sits them at the couch, stands back with the rest of the members, Seungmin, Hyeongjun, and Jooyeon. All as equally unaware as Gunil about whatever it is that Jungsu and Jiseok so desperately have to tell them.
Gunil feels like he just almost might know, but he thinks his imagination is too farfetched. Then again, the amount of doubt he feels, makes him blind enough to anything. Shouldn't he know? Shouldn't he be at least somewhat aware that there was even something worth making either of them this nervous, even if not what ?
He tries not to get caught in his own head. This is far from about him.
All he's gotta do, is open his ears and listen. He squats between Jungsu and Jiseok, places his hands on their knees. He cranes his neck on either side to look them both in the eye. "Go ahead," he murmurs soothingly, "Whatever it is you say, we're going to be here for you and support you. No matter what." He squeezes lightly. Jungsu bites his lip, looks Jiseok's way. Without looking back, Jiseok nods.
Briefly, Jungsu meets Gunil's eyes, before tearing his away, the tips of his ear flushing a vivid shade of strawberry scarlet. Tentatively, Gunil removes his hand, scoots back and settles crosslegged on the floor. "Jiseok and I…" He swallows. Jiseok sighs exaggeratedly, ripping Jungsu's arm to his lap, threading their fingers together right before Gunil's face.
"Jungsu-hyung and I are together. Romantically. Or at least—" His eyes dart around the group, settling on Gunil, widening ever so slightly, a newfound hesitance spreading over his face as Gunil stares back, tries to parse whatever it is hidden beneath the brown of his irises. "—if you guys don’t mind. If…if it doesn't make anyone too uncomfortable. Or if it's even possible…Gunil-hyung?"
Belatedly, Gunil realizes everyone is looking to him, looking for his response, his word of guidance, his final say. All the weight falls on his shoulders, sinks to his gut. All of a sudden, his mind draws an utter and absolute blank.
He leans back, counts the seconds between Jiseok's question and his reponse, tries his hardest to make them few enough not to panic either Jiseok or Jungsu. He looks back at the other members, just to stall a little bit. "It's possible," he says, hoping his voice is level.
He doesn't really know, does he. If it's possible or not. But he'll make it possible. He won't let them go pining for each other until it breaks the band. He won't let them stop pining for each other and break the band either. He'll so something , even if that means doing nothing. None of this will spill over and spoil, sour.
"It's possible," he restates, "As long as you understand the risks at stake and—"
"We do," Jungsu blurts, cheeks puffing up with embarrassment and indignance muddled into one. He stops himself, gathers a bit more of some impossible composure before nodding his head. "We've thought it through. We really have. We'll tell you everything, if we have to." He turns a little pink, Jiseok pinching him in silent scorn.
Gunil purses his lips, nods back. "Then as long as the other members are comfortable with it, I am as well." And finally, the weight of Jiseok's and Jungsu's combined stares leave him, rest on the members behind him. He catches a quick breath, an ache forming in the back of his head.
The consensus is unanimous. No one is uncomfortable with the two dating.
Just Gunil. Just a little bit.
He's scared, that's all. What does this mean for the band?
What does this mean for—
3
Gunil takes care to pay extra attention to Jungsu and Jiseok now. It starts off unintentional, when he catches himself seeking them out, trying his very absolute hardest to analyze their body language at every distance at ever occasion. He rationalizes it though. It makes sense. They're in a whole new situation than they were before. At the moment, they're the most unfamiliar with everything. It only makes sense he looks out for them a little too much. A helping hand at the eager standstill.
He'll piece them back together if he must. If like glass they fall and break. That won't happen though. He'd catch them first, if they ever stumble.
He can't say he's ever been in a successful relationship before, especially not in Korea, not under ban and contract, not in company's laws. He'll make sure it works. He'll lens every camera and cloak every scene if so necessary.
It drives him a little crazy, because he swears the staring has only gotten much worse since the two came out to the members. They're never not looking at each other, never not confessing everything in their eyes alone. What does Gunil do when the camera catches that? It'll be written off as fanservice, but the paranoia settles under his skin. If paranoia is what you can call the growing pit in his stomach everytime he catches their sappy dripping eyes.
If Jungsu was obvious before, he's now got a blaring sign and arrow every time he looks Jiseok's way. Love and cherishment and all things adoration. Gunil gets it, he really does, but shouldn't they be more careful. Shouldn't this be handled much more delicately, preciously?
"Do you realize when you do that?" Gunil eventually asks, holding two cups of ice creams in his hands, the vanilla dripping down over his fingers. He sighs, lets it happen, watches it stain the park's stone path. He looks ahead, to Jiseok chasing a miserable looking Seungmin across the great bright span of freshly-rained on grass.
Rummaging through his pockets for brown crumpled napkins, Jungsu peers at Gunil sideways. "Do what?" He finds some, plucks them out to wipe Gunil's hands for them, offering to take Jiseok's ice cream from him. Gunil mumbles his thank you, politely declines. He wraps the ice creams in the dirtied napkins.
"When you watch him like you do," Gunil replies, articulation escaping him under the public eye of the big open sky, "Y'know…like…" He shrugs, struggling for the proper, palatable words. "Like you're in love with him."
Jungsu snorts, takes a spoonful of ice cream, muttering around it, "Funny thing, Hyung…"
Gunil huffs, taking a petulant bite from the top of his ice cream. "Okay, yes, I know, I know. It's just—when you—" Jungsu's giggles grow. It only makes Gunil want to be a bigger fool, really.
Jiseok finally catches up to Seungmin, wrapping his arms around the younger's torso, throwing them both to the ground with a triumphant screech. "You just look at him like he's kinda everything," Gunil finally manages, murmuring his admission with a tinge of awe he doesn't know what to do with, much less how to rid of.
He's so close to understanding, yet he's so far. He thinks it's right in front of him, fluttering at the tip of his nose. A butterfly landed there he can't see, but can feel. Itching, itching, itching. "It's just so much ." It chokes him a little bit.
He turns his head to Jungsu, doe-eyed, meeting Jungsu's expression of vague exasperation. "Really, Hyung?" he wonders, and Gunil cocks his head confused. "You're funny," Jungsu huffs, shaking his head, "You're…" He glances at Gunil, teeth digging into his lip. "You're one to talk."
4
If Jungsu only becomes more obvious, Jiseok transitions from trying his hardest not to be, to dazedly helpless overtness. It's much more comedic than Jungsu's level of affection, much less overwhelming. No one teases him for it as much as they tease Jungsu, because Jungsu was always obvious.
Only Gunil could have really seen this coming. Only he harbors the right to poke and prod about how Jiseok was always like this, no one just had the forethought to particularly notice. Who'd expect them to? It isn't so common, falling for your band members, at least, Gunil doesn't hope so. He's got enough stress for seasons to come.
It's funny though. It shocks Jiseok. Gunil sits beside him on the floor of their practice room. Jiseok can't see himself in the wall mirror across from them, too entranced by Jungsu practicing before it, Jungsu too concentrated to notice any of it. "You're staring," Gunil hums, and Jiseok bodily startles, slapping his hands over his thighs and whipping his gaze to Gunil. Gunil smiles, curls his knees beneath his chest.
Burying his face in his hands, Jiseok groans, "Am I really that bad, Hyung? Tell me I'm not that bad. I was supposed to be better than this, than him . Mysterious , man." Gunil snorts, pats his shoulder consolingly, only bearing bad news.
"You're both that bad," he answers honestly, pinching Jiseok's heated cheek, "Always been—Yes, even you. I noticed a long time beforehand." He notices crossed wires thrown carelessly over the floor, not disconnected from Jooyeon's amp, forgetfully tossed aside as Jooyeon hurried off to lunch. He sighs, leaning over to fix them. He can't have anyone tripping.
He doesn't notice Jiseok's lapse of silence. If anything, it's filled by the squeaking of Jugnsu's sneakers against the floor. In the peripherals, the blond is a blur of flurried movement, desperate for perfection. Maybe Gunil should get up and dance too. Show Jungsu he's close enough to whatever perfection is, far more than Gunil ever is.
Jiseok's voice comes through much quieter, calmer. "You noticed? No one else did. Not even Jooyeonie, and I swear he's got an encyclopedia on me."
"If you were a Pokemon maybe," Gunil distractedly replies. Jiseok laughs a little. Gunil smiles to himself, untangling the cords, curling them around his knuckles to set carefully aside. Jooyeon won't trip come tomorrow, or so he hopes. There's still air, at the end of the day, to get caught beneath someone's feet.
"You notice a lot," Jiseok remarks plainly, "You look really closely, Hyung…Surely I wasn't giving away anything."
Gunil sits up, turns his body towards Jiseok, his knees bumpig Jiseok's. He leans forward, taps the bridge of Jiseok's nose. Jiseok blinks, goes crosseyed. "It's all in the eyes, Jiseokie. They tell you everything. They told me a long time ago that you liked Jungie. Then again, you like us all a little bit."
He grins, trying to go for something more lighthearted in relation to how he'd spoken to Jungsu. The reaction to that had puzzled him more than he'd warranted. He isn't asking for any more of that.
Instead, Jiseok stares him straight in the eye, and Gunil blinks back, thrown a bit off kilter. He isn't used to that, the unadulterated reciprocation. The noticing of the noticing. "You're a good leader, Hyung," he mumbles, almost absentmindedly.
Gunil pushes him away, hones back on Jungsu, slowing down, sweat beading along his temple and neck, brows furrowed with focus, chewing on his lip. "Thank you, Ji." Entirely dismissively. "I just like paying attention."
Jiseok hums, tone strange. "Yeah…right."
5
He thinks he falls asleep at his desk. The one that's still in his and Jungsu's room, even if it's moreso Jungsu's and Jiseok's room at this point. It explains why one minute he's working away on a track on his computer, ear cushions pressed too tight against his ears, digging into his skull, and the next, he's lifting his head to a blank screen, headphones sprawled askew over his keyboard.
He sits up slowly, quietly, rubbing at his bleary eyes. His vision starts hazy; he blinks the fuzz away until he can see the red marks he left on his skin sleeping against his folded arm. He spins around in his chair, halting.
Laid in Jungsu's bed, sharing the same pillow on their sides, facing each other: the couple of the hour. A blanket draped over their shoulders, an arm from each pillowing the other's head. They don't notice Gunil's waking, and he realizes upon turning, there's a blanket on him too, shoved awkwardly between his back and the chair. It makes him a little warm in the cheeks, but not as warm as spotting the two.
They're whispering to each other, keeping their voice lowered in murmurs in mumbles, most likely to keep from waking Gunil. Jungsu has a strand of Jiseok's blue hair around his finger, twirling it and twirling it. They're looking into each other's eyes, grinning shly like fools even though no one else is there to see it. No one but Gunil.
His stare flicks between the two and his desk. He should try and leave as discreetly as possible, or at least alert them of his consciousness. But he gets caught in their shared gazes, melting each other, into each other. Tentatively, Jiseok reaches his hand up, traces the sharp edge of Jungsu's jaw. Jungsu snorts softly, the puff of air disturbing Jiseok's bangs, Jiseok's lashes flattering, a small laugh escaping him. Jungsu smiles, stares .
Gunil bites down on his lip, squeezing the arm of his deskchair. He tilts his head into the back of his seat, admiring them fondly. A discomfort wakes in the pit of his belly and he squeezes his eyes shut, sighing softly, willing it away. He stands, and of course his chair squeaks.
Their eyes snap to him, and he smiles sheepisly, apologetically. It wavers and wobbles and he quickly scurries across the room as Jiseok sits up, holds out a hand. "Sorry," he squeaks, cutting off Jiseok's aborted:
"Wait—"
He shuts the door behind him, keeps his hand on the knob of the door, desperately berating his heart for beating so damn quickly. He runs his hands through his hair, inhaling.
+1
He and Seungmin walk side by side, Jiseok and Jungsu some ways behind them. They're on their way home from the company, enjoying the polite chill of the night through the fabric of their jackets. It was a nice night to walk through, and it lightens the load of their manager. So walk they do, in a little group, their sneakers thudding softly against the cracked sidewalk.
Gunil stuffs his hands into the pocket of his oversized hoodie, burying his face in the collar, hiding the swirls of his breath in the air. "Do you think Hyeongjun or Jooyeon ordered something?" Seungmin asks with a slight pout, checking his phone, cheeks and nose rosy with the air. "I'm hungry," he complains softly.
Gunil giggles. "If they didn't, I'll cook for you Seungminnie. Or maybe you'd want a share of my snacks?"
Grimacing, Seungmin tucks his phone into his pocket. "Not a chance, Hyung." He nudges Gunil's shoulder, prompting Gunil to shiver. "Maybe you should wear a shirt beneath those sweaters," he mutters.
"You're one to talk," he laughs, hugging himself, pressing the inner fleece of the fabric closer to his skin. He blinks. realizinf a silence. He turns his head to look over his shoulder. He spots Jungsu's and Jiseok's gaze both caught on him. Like a comb on a tangle. Stuck.
His steps slow a beat, putting him a foot behind Seungmin, in front of the two. "Is everything alright?" Their eyes widen in unison, clash against each other. The tips of their ears go red rapidly and Gunil slumps. "Ah…couple things then." He turns back around, catches up to Seungmin.
Seungmin side-eyes him, one brow raised. "Couple things?" he echoes, "Hyung, are you really stupid or are you messing with us?" He tilts his head, deadpan and genuinely baffled at once. Quickly upon Gunil's puzzled expression, the bafflement fades away into pure exasperation. "I'm gonna go ahead. See you at home, Hyung." He salutes Gunil, before speeding off, Gunil stopping to stare after him in confusion.
Turning to face the other two, interrupting a hasty exchange of whispers, Gunil shrugs his shoulders. "Is everyone acting odd today or is it just me?" he asks, a little hopelessly, avoiding their eyes on him. He does that more and more. It's begun to feel intrusive, looking into the others' gazes, seeing something he can't comprehend, not for him, staring back.
Jiseok lets out a bitten back sigh, biting his tongue to keep it from progressing. Jungsu rolls his eyes, shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. "Hyung," he starts out softly, hesitantly, "We need to talk to you." Gunil almost trips over himself, with how abruptly he stops walking.
Worry begins to roil in his stomach, and he's practiced well in not reacting to it, though he knows it shows, somehow in some way on his face or in his voice. "Oh? Okay. Does it have to do with…" He gestures to them pointedly, cheeks warming a little sheepishly. He shouldn't automatically assume it's about that. Not everything's about that , about them as a them .
Jungsu's blinks become hurried and swift, staggered. He looks to Jiseok, then back to Gunil, nodding wordlessly. Gunil's mouth goes dry. His tongue darts over his lips. "Do you want to do it here , or y'know, back home?"
Jiseok opens his mouth, "Back ho—"
Jungsu bursts forward, ripping Gunil's arms from his pockets, taking his hands in his, Jungsu's cold where Gunil's are warm. "Now. Right now, please." Jiseok hisses incomprehensibly at him, stepping forward and laying his hand on Jungsu's shoulder as if to pull him back, but not following through, just leaving it limp there.
Surveying their surroundings, Gunil nods listlessly. "Let's do it over there. Privacy is important." He doesn't suspect in the slightest someone is near enough to listen, but he can't risk it. He can't risk anything at the sake of his boys. He leads them to a small claustrophobic alley, stuffed between their complex building and the neighboring one.
He doesn't say anything, pressed against the wall, the space so small the toes of his sneakers are pressed to Jungsu's and Jiseok's each. He looks at them imploringly. They stare back.
They keep staring, until Gunil is a little uncomfortable, shrinking into the stone wall, his shoulders curling around his ears. Jiseok huffs, glares up at Jungsu, "I told you it wasn't going to work. He isn't going to look . You’re so–"
Jungsu pouts, dimisses Jiseok's words silently. He bends forward, putting his face mere centimeters. "Hyung, look into my eyes, please. Aren't you always supposed to be doing that? Don't you like my eyes, Nillie-ah?"
Gunil blinks, caught off guard, complying without a second coherent though. He's blown away, pinned to the wall by the gaze that's one of his favorites. Sharp and soft and a deep, rich brown. Shimmering under the low streetlights, brimming with something unnameable. He swallows his tongue, unable to say anything.
Peering over Jungsu's shoulder, Jiseok hesitantly asks, "Do you see anything, Gunil-hyung? Jungsu-hyung thinks you should be seeing something special."
Faintly, Gunil shakes his head, too puzzled and too flustered to put two and two together, lost in the pools of Jungsu's irises. He wants to dip his fingers in them, then drown in them, no in between. Jiseok pulls Jungsu back slightly, digs his fingers into Jungsu's shoulder.
"Hyung," he murmurs gentle, like speaking to a spooked animal, or maybe that's just what nerves do to him. Gunil softens his composure, makes himself palatable for whatever it is Jiseok has to say to him. "I knew you would be too stubborn to see it…Jungsu-hyung and I—we—"
"We like you, Hyungie," Jungsu blurts, unable to hold it back any longer. Jiseok can't even be irritated at being cut off, regarding Gunil with an owlish gaze. "More—than like, actually. We…we like you the same way we like each other, Gunil. And—and we can't—"
In this habit of finishing each other's sentences at this rate, Jiseok continues for Jungsu, "We couldn't keep going like this, without having at least let you know." He shrugs, worrying at his bottom lip. "We're meant to be transparent with you, aren't we? For the group's sake?" It's one of the easiest copouts in the world. Jungsu raises his brows, Gunil has to expel a shocked snort.
Jiseok smacks Jungsu's arm weakly. "Shut up. You were just going to stare at him until he exploded. You're ao much worse than me at confessing. You just assu —" Gunil's lips part, doe-eyed and with dawning realization. "Confessing?" he parrots in a wavering whisper, "To—to what?"
They whip their heads towards him. "To you!" Jungsu exclaims at the same time that Jiseok huffs, "To having feelings for our stupid leader."
Gunil blinks, trains his gaze on their sneakers, almost overlapping with how close the three of them are, taking up only half of the already incredibly narrow alley. In his mind's eye, the pieces click together, forming a picture he was staring too closely at to make out. He steps back, and it all comes into vivid focus. The butterfly flutters away from his nose, crawling down his bobbing throat straight into his chest and stomach.
His first reaction is to smile. Giddily so, framed with rosy cheeks and heart-shaped gums. He bites it back, tries to remain calm, perhaps even rational. There's no hope for him, in the end. It all makes sense. Their stares, then his. A great pressure falls off his chest, relief settling in his racing heart. "Oh."
They pause and still, appraising him carefully. Jungsu steps back, almost taking Jiseok with him. "If you're uncomfortable with it, Hyung, we though you should at least know, so that nothing goes misinterpreted in the future or—"
Gunil raises his hands, raises his head. They catch glimpse of his expression, overjoyed and hardly able to contain it. "Stop," he says kindly, waving away their worries. "Really—I…I hadn't let myself hope that..." He laces his hands behind his back, presses his palms to the stone for the grounding scrape and scratch.
"I like you guys too." He grins, tilting his head. "Isn't it obvious?" And he just looks at them, dripping with love and adoration and everything they'll dare accept from him.
"Can't you see it in my eyes?"