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Chapter Text

I got sick and tired of staring at the ceiling so I got up to write this. I hoped that once I sat down at my desk the memories would disappear and I’d be able to go to sleep, but instead they only grew more clear. I’m not good at writing about emotions like this so I guess it’d be better if I imagine it like a song. I’m down on my knees and begging. If at least one person reads this and knows, maybe it won’t hurt so much.

____

To most it’s not a surprise anymore. Ten years into our career I mean, and longer knowing each other…some things softened with the sandpaper of time. Not this though–the thorns that grew from my heart. Whenever it bore a rose, I clipped it and counted the petals like in those movies. For some reason, Shrek comes to mind. That scene, where Fiona picked the petals off one by one, “He loves me, he loves me not.” Sorry, I just marathoned all four yesterday. You know it’s the 20th anniversary of Shrek 2?

I’m stalling, I know. It’s only because my palms are sweaty and I’m nervous that writing this down will change me fundamentally. I just have to remind myself that I am 26…and this situation has cemented itself. It’s petrified amber now, and I am the little bug suspended in time within.

The first time we met, I was sent spiraling. I’m not sure if our carats know this…some probably do, but that green room, what we call melona, was the birthplace of my inner hatred.

The walls that surrounded us showed me from every angle. I would look to my left, and my eyes found his reflection. I’d look to my right and I’d watch him from behind. He was everywhere. So it wasn’t hard to confront the fact that I was taken with him. It reflected my thoughts back to me tenfold. I couldn’t escape.

2012

The others always say it was brutal to be there, but I would’ve followed Seungkwan to hell. I hardly noticed the burning lick of the fire when he was the cooling salve of Lucifer’s tears.

It was the day before I met them. I was thumbing through a picture book about reptilians I received for my 14th birthday. There was nothing much going through my head at the time, only that I was supposed to meet with a company director who casted me.

____

“Hansol!” Sofia came stomping into my room with a math book tucked under her arm. “Dad won’t help me!”

“ Can’t help you, sweetheart,” Mom chimed in from behind her with a teasing smile on her face.

“Yeah, can’t!” Sofia hopped onto my bed. “Mom says Chwe Simon is pabo.’”

I snickered while keeping my head tucked into the pages of my book. “Mom you really shouldn’t teach her stuff like that,” I said, but didn’t really mean it. I thought it was funny to watch someone else grow up bilingual just like I had. Dad talked one way and mom talked another, and the meaning of words sometimes ended up jumbled in the middle.

“Honey, let’s not bother your brother,” Mom went and picked up Sofia in her arms and twirled her. “He has a big meeting tomorrow morning!”

“Big meeting?” Sofia asked forlornly and slumped over Mom’s shoulder. “Can I come?”

“No,” I said quickly, just in case my mom decided it was a good idea to bring her along.

“Why not?” Sofia was on the verge of a tantrum now. 

“You’ve got school, missy.” Mom turned back to the door and quickly made her exit. “How about some bedtime snacks?”

I sighed and closed my book, the echoes of Mom and Sofia were already down the hallway but now my concentration was ruined and I was thinking about tomorrow.

When the casting director gave me her card it wasn’t exactly a strange feeling. I had been on TV before, done commercials and modeled, so I knew my features were somewhat desirable to Koreans. Mom never let me out of her sight for very long in this industry. 

“You need to tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable,” she’d say before every appointment. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was always uncomfortable. The men and women treated me like a commodity. It was always about my looks and nothing else, like usual. Just like it was at school. Picked on for being a “halfer” by kids, while adults casted me for being one.

I wondered how this upcoming appointment would be any different. It was an entertainment company: After School’s. If anything, maybe I could meet a celebrity.

It was a usual night at home, and surely would be a usual day tomorrow. Nothing new. All routine.

Several hours later after waking up a few times and taking a walk around my room, reciting the names of lizard species, it was finally time. Mom peeked her head in and asked if I needed any help getting ready.

“I’m already ready,” I said with a shrug and grabbed my backpack. She tutted and grabbed a comb. I winced as she brushed my thoughts away.

We stopped for breakfast at a café, then walked to the subway station and were in front of the company building before we knew it. It was shaped like a triangle kimbap, jutting out at an odd angle and into an empty street. There were large front windows covered by posters. Mom turned to me before we went in and licked her thumb to wipe off some imaginary stain on my face that only mother’s could see.

“Ready?” She asked with an encouraging smile. I nodded my head, but inside my heart was pounding. I didn’t understand what it was about this building, but it felt different somehow.

We went inside and were immediately greeted by the same director we spoke to on the phone. Mom mostly let me do the talking and walked at a casual pace behind me. 

“It’s so good to see you again, thanks for coming!” The director had a false cheer in her voice, likely because of the early morning hour. 

“Yeah, I’m happy to be here,” I false-cheered right back. She gave a light laugh and motioned us into a little office.

“Sit, please. Can I get you two anything? Some water? Coffee?”

“Um, none for me. Mom, want any water or coffee?” I asked.

“No, but thank you,” Mom said with a polite smile.

“She says no, thanks.” I translated. The director nodded and pulled out a folder.

“Well, I’ll make this quick. The reason for the street cast was to audition you for a trainee position here at Pledis,” she said this sentence as if she’d done it hundreds of times, and judging by the dark circles beneath her eyes, she must have. “Pledis is debuting a new boy group called Seventeen early next year. We’re looking at possible new members.”

I looked at my mom with a sparkle of intrigue. “They’re doing auditions for a boy group,” I said. 

“Yes, so, does that interest you?” The director asked. I nodded before I even knew what I was saying.

Me? A boy group? With…other boys? As idols? Next year?

I looked to my mom again for comfort or maybe some hesitance on her part, but she simply put her hand on mine and squeezed.

“Great! Would you like to audition for us now?” 

I stammered, clamming up.

“It’s really quite simple, don’t be nervous. Your mom can stay with you if you’d like.”

“Uh, I think that’d make me more nervous,” I smiled awkwardly. The director seemed amused as she stood up and motioned to the door.

“Your mom can wait in our break room.” 

We were herded out to the front room with the big windows and tables and my mom sat down to wait. “Good luck honey,” she kissed my cheek and I winced. The director smiled and motioned me to an elevator.

It was instantly too quiet inside, I could almost feel my heartbeat echoing through my body into the floor. I feared the director would be able to hear it. I stared at myself in the elevator reflection, wondering just how I got here to this moment and why I was suddenly so anxious to be accepted.

I loved music so much. If I could somehow become an artist…that would be…

The doors opened and the director was off, I stumbled after her to a room at the end of the hall. There were two men inside the room waiting. It looked like a recording room of some sort.

“Hello,” I greeted formally.

I have no idea what they said, all I knew was that they were intimidating and scary. They mentioned something about the company and their new boy group, and I was suddenly zoned in.

“Seventeen?” I said. My voice was cutting inside the soundproof room.

“Yes, we currently have 6 trainees enrolled.”

Six? I wanted to see them. I wanted to meet these six others. I never had any friends, no real ones. What if they treated me like the kids at school did? Would it be better to give up now?

“Just relax and do whatever you’d like.”

I snapped back to attention. “Um? I can try and sing?” I did it once for a tv program. I didn’t have a bad voice, but I knew it wasn’t company material.

“Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.”

My voice shook the whole time, but their faces never changed. I was only thinking about getting let down easy and going home. Maybe finishing my book of reptiles.

“Are you familiar with Big Bang?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know the song, ‘Bad Boy’?” 

They had just released a music video for it. “I know some parts,” I admitted.

“Can you try one of the rap sequences for us?”

“Sure.” I cleared my throat, waited a beat, and a calmness settled over my body. G-Dragon’s first verse…went like this: “geunal bameun naega neomu simhaesseo—”

___

They told me I had passed the audition and would join hyungs called Wonwoo and Mingyu in taking rap lyric lessons. Knowing there were already two of them who were studying rap made me apprehensive. Just how welcoming would they be to a newcomer who only just started rap 5 minutes ago?

A teacher, I was unsure which, pulled me aside and told me I could sit in on Seungcheol’s training if I wanted. He was the oldest and longest-trained one there. He was supposed to debut in a group called “Tempest.”

I was afraid to meet him so I politely declined and said I had to go home to discuss with my mother. I didn’t go home with my mom, though. I asked for a few thousand won and headed straight to a PC bang where I researched all I could about kpop groups and trainees. The more I read, the more I was consumed by feelings of dread.

When I got home, Mom was making lunch and had my school work laid out for me. We didn’t talk at all about it until it was nearly time for the hour-long commute I’d have to take back to Pledis for training.

“You sure you wanna do this? It’s a big commitment,” she reminded. I was sure she also did her own share of research while I was away.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But it feels like I should. Like I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t.”

Mom handed me a bag full of snacks, water, and a change of clothes. She looked at me proudly with her hands on her hips and chin held high. I subconsciously mimicked her confidence. “See you tonight, then, hm?”

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”

____

I immediately checked in and noticed how loud the building suddenly was. There was music and singing pouring from every crevice of the building. I was directed to be in the downstairs practice room B at 4:30 PM. I was met with a sliding glass door that I was unsure how to open. A hand reached past me and pressed the black button on the side.

“Hi!” A tall, handsome boy said with a grin. “You’re Hansol?”

I nodded. “Yeah, Chwe Hansol, you?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

“Wow Mingyu, you’re suddenly not the most handsome anymore,” another tall, slim boy teased. He had long floppy black hair. Mingyu shoved the boy aside as they walked to the same room.

“This is Wonwoo, he’s the second tallest.”

“First, unless Mingyu wears his lifts.”

I laughed a little too loudly at that, but the other boys only grinned at me good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna like the teacher. He’s really nice and gives us good feedback.”

The three of us sat at a table, Wonwoo and Mingyu on one side, and me on the other. An empty chair sat at the very end with a whiteboard.

“Do you have any paper?” Wonwoo asked, motioning to his several notebooks full of sticky notes and wrinkled drafts.

“We need supplies?” 

Wonwoo and Mingyu shared a fond look. “Don’t worry, the same thing happened to us. I think the company purposefully makes sure you’re unprepared to see how well you can adapt under pressure.”

“I’m good at adapting,” I said, not really sure what I was supposed to do, when Wonwoo held out an unused notebook, and Mingyu held out a pen and highlighter. I grinned and thanked them. It was nice not having spitballs or cruel notes flung at me for once. Instead it was two arms outstretched and helping.

The lesson began soon after, with Wonwoo and Mingyu being given a different assignment than me. I was simply to start by writing a Haiku. A poem.

“Rap is poetry, in whatever form you wish,” the teacher said. “Try seventeen syllables.”

My oasis has

revealed itself as

lent paper and ink.

I looked at the teacher to signal I was finished, and Wonwoo and Mingyu looked to see what I had written. The teacher seemed to be unconcerned about my assignment, but when he stopped to read it his expression changed.

“Hm,” he hummed. I waited to hear his feedback, wondering what he might say. “My oasis has revealed itself as lent paper and ink.”

Mingyu and Wonwoo looked at me with brief surprise.

“You used a 3 syllable word in the title alone,” he remarked. 

I lowered my head in apology, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s a good thing,” Mingyu chimed in excitedly like he was genuinely happy for me.

“It is?”

“That’s impressive for a haiku, especially when you use it as a preface for the next line.”

“Oh,” I said, slightly astounded. “Thank you.”

“But why ‘lent’? If the meaning is that your escape is in writing?”

I looked at the two boys across from me warily. “It’s not meant to be an escape. Mingyu and um, Wonwoo, they gave me paper and a pen because I didn’t have any. It’s the first time I ever experienced kindness like that. So, it’s not the writing that’s an oasis, it’s…”

“Their goodwill?”

“Yes.”

Mingyu's eyes grew reflective, and Wonwoo simply smiled. 

“Well done, Hansol.” The instructor took out a folder and put the paper inside, writing my name on the outside. “You may go join the others in the main practice area.”

I bowed and gave a small wave to the other two boys and went out, following the clashing sound of the guitar and rapping from down the hall. I felt better about myself. With a little hop in my step, I rounded the corner and saw a boy dancing in the mirror, one on the floor playing the guitar, and another with a mic set up and rapping. I stepped inside hesitantly.

“Oh!” The dancing boy jumped out of his focused stance and jogged over. He took off his hat and tossed it over his shoulder as he bowed. “Welcome, Hansol! I’m Soonyoung, your dancing instructor.”

The other two stopped and looked over. “He’s not,” Jihoon called over with a lifted eyebrow. “I’m Jihoon.”

The last one must be Seungcheol. I straightened up as he approached, expecting some sort of battle of dominance against the new competition, but instead his eyes softened and he bowed. “Nice to meet you! Welcome. I’m Choi Seungcheol.”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me over to sit down with him and Jihoon. Soonyoung hopped around excitedly. 

“You’re so handsome it’s crazy,” Seungcheol said with a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t say weird things,” Jihoon shoved Seungcheol. “You’re gonna scare him.”

“Thanks,” I chuckled awkwardly.

“Are you a foreigner? You speak Korean good,” Soonyoung asked and finally plopped over.

“Well ,” Jihoon corrected. 

“I’m not a foreigner, I'm Korean.”

“Ooh,” Soonyoung looked surprised. “That’s impressive.”

I was unsure how that was impressive but I let him think it was anyway.

“He thinks its impressive because he’s assuming you speak English fluently.” Jihoon explained.

The two started to bicker like siblings and Seungcheol rolled his eyes and shared an exasperated look with me.

“How was your rap lesson?” Seungcheol asked, ignoring the other two.

“It was…fun. I liked it. Reminds me of Literature class.”

“Yeah, it kind of is. I’m glad you’re here. The directors recommend we practice on rap, but you can join in on dance or guitar with the others if you want.”

“I’d like to just watch you for a while, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine! Just tell me if you have any questions. I’ll show you how the speakers work later.”

Wonwoo and Mingyu joined us 30 minutes later, and the four of us huddled around Jihoon to try and freestyle. It went as well as to be expected, but the guys were so encouraging it was hard to get down on myself about it.

We had an hour of exercise, two hours of dance, and two more hours of free practice time before we were finally released to go home. The others all lived in a dorm together, so with a promise to see them tomorrow, I headed to the subway by myself. I called my mom to let her know I was on my way back, and nodded off on the subway like many others.

That’s how the following month went, there were no interruptions until–I was shown a video of a boy singing. Jihoon took the cracked-screen ipad as he introduced one of the new singers to the rest of us through a youtube video. He was older by a month, and incredible . The others talked about how nice it’d be to have a singer around besides Jihoon.

I could still hear that voice of the boy from Jeju, even as I fell asleep.

Chapter Text

My schedule was simple. I’d go to practice after school until midnight and then head home. On Fridays, I’d stay over at the dorm and practice all day Saturday and Sunday. Then I’d head home Sunday night and start the week over again. I was close to all the trainees now. I thought I’d be upset if any of us were kicked out or left. Auditions and casting for other boys was slow, and it took a month for the next trainee to arrive. He was from Jeju island, and his separation from his home would be immediate. I wondered how I would feel if I was separated from my family right away. I was already halfway there.

There was ongoing discussion with the directors and my mom about moving me to the dorm with the other boys. We decided that I’d move into the dorm full time on the same day that the trainee would arrive, so the others could help us settle in. It was both exciting and terrifying, like living at a boarding school or away at camp, only we didn’t get to go home.

I arrived at Pledis with a few boxes of my stuff and noticed similar luggage by the front door. I set my bags down nearby. It must be the new guy’s stuff. There was a duck shaped backpack and a bright orange duffle bag with hanging plushies on the handle. I smiled a little and then turned to go down to the basement. I skipped the elevator because I hated how quiet it was. I instead took my time going down the steps, when I heard that voice again. The same one from the youtube video. It was more shy and quiet, but just as beautiful.

I waited and listened in the stairwell where I could hear the echoes best and closed my eyes. It was silent for a beat as he finished, and then applause erupted and the other trainees hollered ecstatically. I took the opportunity to slip inside and watch from the back of the room.

“You’re incredible!” Jihoon gave out rare praise. “I have the perfect song for you to try out at practice tonight.”

“Thank you so much,” the boy bowed politely, his ears tinted pink. “I’m not anything special though.”

Yes, you are. I wanted to say as I stepped forward unthinkingly. Maybe the fast movement caught his eye, because he looked up and we met eyes for the first time. He smiled shyly and bowed, his fringe just kissing the top of his long eyelashes. I bowed back a little stiffly, sort of winded suddenly.

“Oh yeah, this is Hansol. The one who joined a month ago,” Seungcheol pulled me over. “He can help you settle in around here.”

I nodded. Seungkwan awkwardly smiled, keeping his hands folded respectfully in front of himself. “Please take care of me,” he bowed once more.

“You can speak to me informally, I think you’re older than me anyway,” I tilted my head to show him over to a quieter room. Seungcheol let us be as we strolled away. Seungkwan followed, finally relaxing and letting his hands fall apart.

“I’m your hyung?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I laughed. “I heard you singing. You’re good.”

Seungkwan beamed, this time without any shyness. “Thank you! The others told me how talented you are so it means a lot.”

I scoffed, knowing the others were likely exaggerating to secure a singer in the group.

I opened the door for him and motioned him inside first. We called it the piano room, where a single keyboard and some chairs sat. I sat down and he joined me.

“Did you eat yet?” I asked, using the small talk to memorize the moles on his face. His cheeks were so smooth and round, it made me want to poke them.

“Yeah, on the plane. And before you ask, yes it was a good flight, and I just got in an hour ago.”

I found myself smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. “Guess you aren't fond of small talk?”

Seungkwan took the rhetorical question in  stride as he looked around the small room. “Can I ask you a really serious question?” His voice took on a low, deadly tone as he leaned in. 

“Sure,” I focused on his lips.

He motioned to the walls with disgust and whispered, “Why the hell are the walls shrek-colored?”

I burst out laughing, and the paper walls between us came crashing down.

____

The two of us were inseparable from the beginning. Maybe it was predestined or predetermined, or something. I don’t know if I believe in things like that yet, but Seungkwan sure made me feel like I could. He reciprocated everything I wanted, even when I didn’t really know what it was exactly that I wanted. There was just a low crackling in my stomach constantly like a butterfly trying to emerge from its cocoon. The butterfly struggled so hard to get out, but when I held hands with Seungkwan, it rested for a little while.

When I say hold hands…it embarrasses me a little. At first it did, anyway. But then I saw the way Jihoon and Seungcheol hugged, and the way Wonwoo and Mingyu hung off each other, and thought…maybe it’s normal here. In this strange green universe, maybe I could hold him just as tightly and nobody would notice.

The first night when we moved in, after the “celebrations,” which really meant splurging on some korean fried chicken and two bottles of coke to share, we pushed two sleep mats together on the floor and set ourselves up there. Seungkwan was next to the wall, and I was the one closing him in. I felt protected that way, somehow, knowing he was shielded by me. As if my well-being lay in Seungkwan’s safety rather than mine. It was his first night away from home after all, and I wanted things to be easy for him.

It was a little different than that. Around 2:00 a.m., three hours before practice, I woke up to the sound of sniffling. I sleepily stuck my hand out and felt around for any part of Seungkwan to anchor myself to. 

“You okay?” I whispered, so as not to wake the others in the room. Even though I’d never heard him cry before, it felt like I already knew the short hiccups inside and out. I turned over my phone so the screen light illuminated our faces, the wallpaper was a cute picture of my family cat. Seungkwan rubbed his eyes and laughed a little at the picture.

“Cute,” he whispered and poked at the screen. I scooted myself over and shared his pillow. He was on his stomach, face buried halfway in his folded arms. He looked so miserable.

“You miss home?” I asked. Seungkwan looked at me, and a few more silent tears rushed out. He bit his lip and nodded, scrunching his eyes up. I put an arm over his back and rested my forehead against his arm. “That’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

As if I wasn’t a stranger too. But he relaxed all the same. “I’m so grateful,” he muttered. “It’s my first time away from home by myself. I’m just a little scared.”

“We can be scared together,” I rubbed his back over the thin blanket and he gave a final few sniffles before shuffling back down into his pillow comfortably. 

“I’ll try to go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you,” he smiled sheepishly. I turned my lock screen off as we lay in the dark for a second.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re helping me feel less alone too.”

I didn’t know what expression he was making, but I felt his nose nuzzle at mine like my cat sometimes does. His breath was warm and sweet.

“Goodnight,” he said. I hummed back, already falling deeply. In every single way.

There was no embarrassment when Seungcheol woke us up, even though we looked like two newborn kittens curled up together. I noticed Seungcheol’s smile though. I wrote it off as him having a good morning. We had some rice and rolled eggs for breakfast, then all walked the short distance to Pledis. It was a lot easier to just wake up immediately and head over, unlike my other 60 minute morning commute. It was a little sad that I wouldn’t have to take it anymore, but Seungkwan joked and was lively, even at 5 a.m. so it made the rest of us happy too. I guess I didn’t mind this new arrangement as much.

“Hey, thanks for last night. It helped a lot,” Seungkwan said. I nodded.

“‘Course–anytime,” I tried to say casually but it tumbled out a little too quickly. He gave me a little smile as we walked into practice.

____

It started when I gave him a peck on the top of his head, right where his halo should be. 

Seungkwan looked up at me briefly, and then went back to working on some homework. I paused in a daze, wondering what compelled me to do that.

It’s just like kissing a puppy. I told myself. Yeah, that sounds right. A pet. A beloved cat. It wasn’t a big deal. I just love the way his hair smells. I love the silky glide of it against my lips.

At night, the shadows began asking questions. 

“Why do you only want to kiss him then?”

Was that my voice or the demon in the corner’s voice?

I shut my eyes tight and forced myself to fall asleep. 

Then, something else happened. It wasn’t the halo of his head. It was the cherubim warmth of his cheek. I swear I didn’t mean to.

We were sitting against the far wall, huddled close, watching some youtube video. Seungkwan was giggling. I could smell the bulk shampoo on him, and it smelled different than it did on everyone else.

And so I leaned over and kissed his cheek. It was hardly even a kiss. I just rested my tired, exhausted lips against his full cheek as a respite, and found myself unable to pull away as quickly as I’d wanted to.

Seungkwan pretended not to notice, but since we are each other’s reflection, I know he did. We sat through the remainder of the video with Seungkwan leaning his head on my shoulder.

I don’t remember what the video was about. All I know is the amount of breaths he took, as I counted them out one by one. And when he breathed out, I breathed in like his exhalation was my oxygen.

It filled me up. All 183 of them.

____

For adolescents, expressing emotions was important for the survival of our image. We couldn’t fight over every little thing anymore. We had to express our emotions in a healthy way.

So one day, after a particularly difficult practice week, Seungkwan was upset. I was upset because Seungkwan was upset.

I only ever cried when we fought, but this time, well–the circumstances were different.

I cornered him, and tried, with all my inexperienced might, to coax him out of his episode. He was stubborn and unmoving, and wouldn’t even look me in the eye. His arms were crossed tight over his chest and his eyebrows were furrowed, sweet lips in a tight line.

My body wanted–needed–to erase it all with my own arms, my own skin, my own lips, to blend out the harsh lines into soft ones like I knew them to be. I grabbed his wrists and pulled, and before he could even begin to yell at me, I pressed myself against him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and kissed his frown. When Seungkwan went still, I hugged him tighter and hid my face in his neck. 

His adam’s apple bobbed up and down, like he was warring with himself on whether to speak or not.

He eventually relaxed, but when I pulled away he had a strange look on his face.

You know we can’t. That’s what I heard him say.

A day later when we were falling asleep under the same blanket.

“You know we can’t,” Seungkwan whispered.

I was confused at first, because things had gone back to normal, hadn’t it? But no. Not for him they hadn’t. Now not for me either.

“Hm?” I turned my head towards him with a question held tight behind my teeth.

“The thing we did,” he muttered a little louder. In the moonlit darkness I could see him motion toward his lips. “That.”

That?

“Why?”

“You know why,” he said a little louder.

I did know. Still, I pushed, “No?”

Seungkwan sighed and turned on his side, away from me. “Nevermind. Go to sleep.”

No, no, no. I knew if I let him turn away that this would be it. The last time we shared body heat.

I let him turn away.

I would regret that decision for the next several years as we danced along a tightrope.

Seungkwan has referred to me as his best friend, his soulmate, amongst other things.

We’re not friends. We never were friends. That is what I would like everyone to know.

One night, drunk out of our minds, we touched each other in a way I only dreamt about. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was as if we had simply pressed pause on that scene in our trainee days, and resumed as adults. Only I had mistakenly pressed fast forward. We missed a lot of first steps.

I wanted to take him on a date and get him flowers like they do in all the movies. I wanted to say goodbye to him on his doorstep and write love letters.

As idols?

We grew up together. Lived together. Spent every moment together. He became my second skin at the age of 14. And instead of goodbye, it’s goodnight from the next bed. My love letters are every lyric in our songs.

When I imagine a body in the privacy of my room, it's his. I know every curve, every mole, every dimple and inner softness. I know the swell of every sensitive spot, and the ways in which to push them. I know his sounds, and the lewd lilt of his voice that is never shown in songs. I know the bend of his knees, the fragility of his wrists, and the notches on his spine.

I know everything. But I have to pretend I don’t.

I have to pretend that we are friends. When in reality, I hate the word. We are closer to enemies in the way we ravished one another that night. We are actors in the way we improv every interview. Never lovers. Never ever. We are each other’s exception.

But I still want to tell him.

When he says, “We can’t.”

I want to say, “It’s already done.”

Chapter Text

“So, you and Seungkwan, huh?” 

My mom looked at me from the corner of her eye with a curved lip. I tried so hard not to startle like an abused dog, but with the way my body shook you’d think I was a natural disaster within human skin. I tensed and untensed, and then suddenly I was back in the green room again.

The guys were teasing again. It was only supposed to stay inside that room. But here was my mom. My own mother could see it.

She seemed to notice that something wasn’t quite right, because her tone shifted and became even softer. “He’s a good kid. And so funny,” she praised. “I like him a lot.”

This was only after the second time they’d met. 

“You only met him twice,” I reminded her. A bad move, because she laughed lightly.

“Yes, but with the way you talk about him it’s like he’s always in the room with us.”

My cheeks were on fire.

Someone should have told me what puberty did with young kids in love. It was embarrassing.

“Anyway, I hope to see him a lot more. Bring him next time you visit.”

That was the kindest form of acceptance my mother knew how to give. The kind that said “I don’t know the situation exactly, but if it’s what I think it is, then I approve.” A mother’s intuition.

Or maybe I really was just that obvious.

____

A day after announcing our debut, Seungcheol sat up late with me over a bowl of cold boodae-jjigae. 

We were talking about nothing in particular when all of a sudden he grew sullen.

“I wanted to get a few things off my chest before we debut,” he said in a loud and formal tone of what he thought a leader was supposed to sound like.

I nodded my head, and hummed to show I was listening, though my mouth was full of stew. Seungcheol smiled briefly, but it was gone as soon as it came.

It seemed these difficult conversations just kept coming lately.

“I feel responsible for…you and Seungkwan.” 

That caught my attention immediately. I thought maybe he was going to talk about the argument we had last week, anything but this.

“What do you mean?” I asked nonchalantly, averting my gaze and swallowing the rest of the food in my mouth.

“For teasing you guys so much, and…” he gestured awkwardly, “for making things weird between you two.”

It was weird between us. Seungkwan and I weren’t the same anymore, but that had nothing to do with Seungcheol or anybody else, and everything to do with me.

“Hyung…” I sighed. “You didn’t do anything. Seungkwan and I are fine, really.”

He frowned from across the table. “That’s not true and you know it. The guys have been teasing you two relentlessly and I should have stopped it.”

“Why does it matter? It wasn’t the reason why we're…we–we really didn’t care.” Not true exactly , I thought, but continued. “It was just a joke anyway.”

“Then what was the reason?” His voice softened just like my moms did, and that’s when I realized that he knew too. I think he always did.

It hurt. A lot. I bowed my head over the bowl of mushy food and my hat covered the misty tears that rose to the surface. It bubbled up quickly because it was past the point of boiling. So hot it practically burned away everything inside. My throat closed up and I shook my head.

Seungcheol rounded the table and sat next to me, he leaned close and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered solemnly. I nodded and wiped my eyes. “It’s gonna be okay, though. You know? It will.”

I nodded as he hugged me. “Yeah,” I croaked, though I didn’t believe it. How could it be okay? My soul’s match was right there and I couldn’t touch him. It was so holy that it had to be hidden away from the entire world.

That was the last time we spoke about Seungkwan for years to come.

After debut there was no time to even breathe, let alone feel. Everything became numb and it stopped hurting so much.

I was dumb to think the pain had gone away though, because eventually the numbness fades, and a festering, open wound is left behind.

____

Can I tell you something?

Can I honestly tell you?

I love you more than anything.

Lyrics were difficult to write. It was the only time when I allowed myself to feel anything. They all came to me at once, the feelings my subconscious categorized as Seungkwan.

How much was too much, before they started asking questions?

I couldn’t really tell.

I’m afraid that the things inside of me will be discovered.

Yesterday I saw two men holding hands and crossing the street. They were discreet, when they turned the corner I saw one kiss the other on the corner of the mouth. I stood in that spot for a long time. So long that a carat came up to me and asked for a photo. In a daze, I said the company wouldn’t allow it, but I could give a signature instead. I signed her phone case.

She went away. I stayed. And stared, and stared, and stared.

When I got back to the dorm I slammed my door and opened my laptop. I pulled up the files titled inconspicuously, and deleted them all. I deleted so many that I lost count. All the lyrics about him that turned into love letters over the years.

I threw my laptop across the room when it was finished and the corner of it cracked, leaving a lightning strike across the screen. 

Seungkwan knocked softly. How pathetic was it that I knew his knock? That I knew it was him because he favored his left foot when he leaned against the door. His knocks were feather-light. He shifted to the other foot after a minute, and then left when the door didn’t open. 

How I wished he barged in and demanded to know what happened to the cracked screen. And I would read every letter to him down to the last semicolon because I had it all memorized. How I didn’t need the laptop at all, because just thinking of him opened the floodgates of endless emotion. I could pull up the file from a week ago and recite it, or the one from 5 years ago. They were the same anyway.

“We can’t” was worse than a curse. Worse than any hell or purgatory the evilest demon could conjure up.

I love you.

I love you so much it hurts.

Chapter Text

I want to talk about that night. The one I mentioned when we were drunk.

It was before we grew accustomed to our tolerance. We were new at it. Just turned 19. 

Inebriated, it tore down our walls as if they were made out of paper-meché. At first it was only us, Jeonghan, and Myungho. Then it was us and Jeonghan.

Then it was just us.

We probably shouldn’t have been left alone. We probably should have been told to stop, but we didn’t. And at the time it was the best idea we ever had.

By the time the driver dropped us back at our building, Seungkwan was hanging off of me. I was just going to drop him off at his room, but when the elevator doors opened, he pulled me down the hallway with him. I followed as easily as a child following candy.

He was giggling something, and I think I probably was too. The tension between us was building too rapidly. Seungkwan struggled with opening the door, and on the fifth try, with us dying of laughter, we got inside. 

At first it seemed like we were just going to share a bed for the night. He began to undress in the way he usually did, and I followed. Somewhere along the way I think our wires got crossed. It was no longer a bedtime routine, and I was dragged down onto the sheets with my pants halfway off. I stumbled on top of him and we took a moment to breathe in one another.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him further up the bed, lining his chest up with mine. I remember smiling at him, and his eyes glittered. My heart leapt out of my chest because he was so beautiful with his hair messed up like that, and with his cheeks that dark red.

“Hello again,” I muttered against his cheek and left a delicate fluttering kiss there. Seungkwan shivered, and then we were at each other’s metaphorical throats. We weren’t so far gone as to leave hickeys in places that could be seen.

I had to taste him. My body was telling me that I needed it like a man dying of thirst. I stripped him of his boxers and he humped once into the air. I had no idea what I was doing, but because it was Seungkwan, everything felt right. So I did everything.

I let my mouth roam over his hip bones, his stomach, and the inside of his thighs as they clenched roughly around my ears. I mouthed at the soft skin below his balls, and nuzzled my way deeper. Seungkwan keened and writhed. He was sobbing by the time I finally swallowed him. I heard about girlfriends doing this for their boyfriends. Surely this would be the same thing.

I let instinct take over and sucked as I held his hips down. He was clenching the bedsheet with one hand and the other was buried in his hair. Those beautiful eyes were glistening with tears and his moans coated in sobs.

He came quickly, and because that part of him was Seungkwan, I swallowed it all. Seungkwan’s wide eyes watched me do it and he cried some more. I held him close, comforting him. I thought maybe I had gone too far. We hadn’t even kissed properly, and I had already swallowed his deepest essence.

He sniffled and curled towards me, holding on tightly and tangling his legs with mine. I covered us with the blankets, and Seungkwan fell asleep. I did not. I stayed awake and stroked his back, and felt more alive than I ever had. More alive than when I was performing. My hands ghosted down his chest and over his naked backside. He was so smooth everywhere. It never ended. Between his legs, over his arms, and his nape. Along his thighs, between the heat of his cheeks, and the plum of his erect nipples. All so beautiful. 

I buried my face in his hair in complete bliss, and fell asleep, and when I awoke it was to a warm tongue on my own body. Seungkwan was copying my own movements on me this time. I lay my head back, and when I looked down again, he looked up. His already small mouth was stretched wide, and his gentle fingers were trembling slightly. He shyly ducked his head again. I didn’t want his mouth there right now. I didn’t deserve it. My mouth wanted his own.

I pulled him on top of me and we finally kissed properly. Messily. The sort of experience that comes from inexperienced lust. The devouring and destruction of one another like it was the end of the world.

It was then I noticed that we had long sobered up and were no longer drunk. We were only sleepily hungover.

I wonder why we didn’t stop.

Seungkwan’s small hand wrapped around me as we kissed and he finished me off with several twisting strokes. I looked down and noticed my own semen mixed with his on my stomach. His berry red cock was spasming emptily. He had come just from getting me off.

I kissed his forehead and leaned over him to clean up with a tissue. While I was busy cleaning up, Seungkwan had pulled on a sweater. I put my discarded boxers back on. And it was like that, we said our silent goodbyes. I smiled softly at him as he buried himself in the blankets once more to get some sleep. I stood at the doorway and watched him for a moment longer. I held onto the scene before me for as long as possible, and then I finally left.

I went back to my room, and it was only when I sat down in my own bed that I started to weep. I wiped my eyes but the tears kept coming.

In the back of my head, I thought that we should have had our first sexual experience together in a different way. Not drunk. Not confused and silent. Something meticulously planned and beautiful like Seungkwan deserved. One of those private resorts that had spas and candles and roses in the water. Even a private hotel room would have sufficed.

And we would have been ready. Armed with all the materials of first-time virgins; things we wouldn’t even need. We would pull out a box of female condoms and lose it. We’d laugh so hard that all of our nerves would melt away.

And we’d start by kissing. It would be easy, and taking him would be like his body had always been mine. Like it was only returning itself to me for the brief moment I was inside him.

He wouldn’t have to muffle his moans, and after we finished I wouldn’t have to admire him in the darkness. I could lay him out on the covers with all the lights on and pray over him like he was my last supper. I could touch him so gently he would get goosebumps. 

And we would talk all night. Until finally, as sleep neared, one of us would admit it in a whisper.

“I love you.”

And the other would simply answer,

“In every universe.”

Chapter Text

Somewhere along the way my smiles grew into stoic-grim lines. When Seungkwan took selfies with me I trained my lips to stay down. He would always tease me about it.

“Can’t you smile even a little bit?” he pouted and tapped at the screen of his phone to try again. I gave him a fake smile and he scoffed with a laugh. “Vernonie, seriously…you–” he’d pretend to hit me.

My insides lit up and I took a deep, calming breath. I sighed and looked into the camera to see the reflection staring back. Seungkwan looked pretty as usual in his designer hoodie.

My face remained the same: impassive, but only because I was simultaneously doing and not doing a million other things. My body told me to lean into him, but my arms stayed rigid by my sides. My eyes wanted to look at him, but they were trained directly into the camera. My hands wanted to wrap around his waist. They sat, relaxed and empty. Everything was perfectly in place.

“Okay, got it!” Seungkwan went to start editing the picture. It wasn’t as if he was going to post it. He rarely did. Sometimes I wonder what he did with all those photos, but I didn’t dare ask.

It took a while for my body to thaw out and unfreeze itself. Even when Seungkwan was gone from the room I could still smell him, and feel his remaining energy. His laughter while we ate lunch together. His beautiful hands holding those metal chopsticks like they were precious jewelry adorning his fingers.

The soft skin below his eyes were tinted blue. Nobody else would be able to tell but me. I could color match every inch of his skin perfectly if I had to. This cool tone was new. Sleepless. Azure.

He wasn’t sleeping well. I would have to look up the exact pantone wheel to be sure.

I opened my catalog of Seungkwan-related things inside my head and noted that he would need some daechu tea to help him sleep.

Just as Seungkwan’s duty was to edit that picture, I took mine seriously too. I made some time after morning practice to pick it up. We usually finished at 3 or 4 a.m. and the market down the street was always open.

I picked up some tea, and an extra flavor in case he didn’t like it, and returned to Seungkwan’s apartment floor communal kitchen. He was likely just finishing up his skincare.

I made him a cup of tea, and took it down the hallway. I knocked twice.

“Who is it?” He said in a lilting tone, signaling to me that he knew exactly who it was.

I opened the door and brought the tea in. Even though I knew he would be awake, I still said, “Good, you’re awake. Try this.”

Seungkwan glanced over at the mug of hot tea. “Oh?” His voice softened with curiosity. “What is it?”

“Daechu,” I answered. “For sleep.”

His lips morphed into a small smile. “Smells good,” he picked up the cup and blew on it to cool it down. “How’d you know I wasn’t sleeping well?”

Before I could command my hands to stay , my thumb brushed underneath his eye. His face was cool and supple with his skincare regime applied.

“I could see it,” I shrugged and pulled away. “Tell me if it helps, I can get more.”

Seungkwan was stunned into silence, but he bowed his head and nodded meekly. “Thank you, Vernonie.”

“Goodnight,” I nodded from over my shoulder as I left.

“Mm, sleep well,” he said softly.

The door clicked closed behind me. I cleaned up in the kitchen area and went back to my floor.

My duty to him was done for now. I would update the color wheel in the afternoon and sort through my options if the azure tint remained.

He was my favorite thought after all. I had no trouble sleeping, because every single one of my dreams were of him. If anything, it was the waking part that was a nightmare.

Instead of sheep, I counted the amount of breaths he used to cool his tea. I wondered how many sips it took to finish it. I wondered how many hours or even minutes it might take to work.

And even though we spent the entire day together, I couldn’t wait to see him again when I woke up.

____

No, we aren’t dating. We aren’t friends. We aren’t lovers.

The others had just gone to sleep and only Josh and I were up. It was one of those nights that felt a little strange—with the moon tilted just right, and you find yourself spilling your insides to just anybody.

“Have you guys ever talked about it? Like,” Joshua waved his hand, “you know, out loud?”

I shook my head as I reclined on the couch. I wished my headphones were on and blasting. I wish Josh wasn’t looking so closely.

“Why not?” His voice softened to that tone he only used when the team was at its weakest. It was just a nudge. Enough to make the baby bird either leap from the nest and fly, or drop to its death. 

I leaped—

“Just,” I shrugged, “scared. I don’t really know man.” I finally sat up and faced him. “It was so fucking hard to even admit it in the first place. Like everyone knew, you and Seungcheol and the other guys, but–” I felt my throat get tugged tight.

“But saying it out loud makes it real.”

“No.” I rubbed my eyes. “Saying it out loud leaves you open. My chest hasn’t even closed up since the first time man.”

“What do you mean?” Joshua scooted closer and put his hand on my shoulder.

“This started 10 years ago,” I admitted. “I tried. I left myself open and he responded. And…it wasn’t the response I wanted.”

Joshua paused to take it in.

“You were kids. Maybe it wasn’t what you wanted…but it was what you needed. You barely even knew who you were yet.”

That was true enough. 

“But how can I still…be…,” in love “like this about him…after all this time?”

“You started a career with him and became successful. You found out who you are along the way and the pressure of survival isn’t there anymore.” Josh reminded me. “What I wanna know is what’s stopping you guys now?”

“You mean besides destroying the entire group and everything we worked for?” I asked sarcastically.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that,” Joshua joked back. We all knew the reality. I had pondered on it. I couldn’t stand the thought of Seungkwan being hated in any sort of context. I would not allow it. “No, but like, you guys can still be together privately, you know?”

“I think we’re just…afraid that we’ll want more.” I scoffed. “I don’t even have him and I want more. I always want more. It’s endless.”

“Hmm,” Joshua hummed. “Maybe it’s time to accept having less?”

Accept having less.

—and hit the ground.

Chapter Text

I didn’t expect to be gutted. I didn’t expect that at all.

It reminded me of how I was 26 years old. How much time I already spent in limbo. Of having everything I ever dreamed of except the one thing that mattered most.

It reminded me that I’d have to make a decision one day. Much sooner than I thought.

I can’t move on. No, in fact, I refuse to. I won’t let go. The world would have to enucleate me with a scalpel in order to separate me from Seungkwan’s skin.

“Accept having less, my ass,” I grumbled as I washed up for bed. “Fuck that.”

In the kind of rage only birthed from being pushed beyond the edge, from being hurt by a long, deathly fall, I pushed my way into Seungkwan’s dorm. Jeonghan was fast asleep on the couch with the TV still blaring. I trudged past him, shouldering open the first door I knew to be his. 

Seungkwan yelped in genuine fright. It was pitch black inside the room, so only my silhouette was showing. Still…. still.

“Hansol?” he shrieked, wavering. He got up from bed, his skin smooth and baby soft as he touched my arm and pulled me inside, turning the lights on. “What’s wrong with you?”

I realized my face must’ve looked massively pissed off, or some version of it–because Seungkwan was silent as he waited for an explanation.

“Josh–” I gritted out. “He–”

Seungkwan jumped for his phone. “What! What? What happened?”

I grabbed his wrist and took the phone from his hands and threw it behind me onto the bed. 

“Hansol…” he frowned. “What's going on? Seriously, you’re freaking me out.”

He didn’t remove my hand from his wrist even though it must’ve stung. I didn’t care about anything. I wouldn’t let anyone or any circumstance take Seungkwan away from me.

Just when the edge of worry seeped into agitation on Seungkwan’s face–I spoke.

“Shua-hyung told me to accept less from you,” I explained. The shorter’s eyebrows furrowed over his glistening eyes. “I don’t want to.”

“I–”

“I want more.”

Seungkwan slowly sat down on his bed and sighed defeatedly. “More what?”

“More of you. In as many ways as possible.”

Seungkwan finally laughed, his ears tinged a hot red. “What?”

He wasn’t getting it. Of course he wouldn't get it. I was putting the flames out for years while he fanned it. And he fanned them unknowingly. Adding gasoline while I watched and I let him.

“Fine,” I said angrily. I meant to turn around and leave, but for some reason, I climbed over him and dragged him up the bed with me.

“Wha–” he flailed.

“Stop moving,” I grumbled and held him tight around the waist, burying my face in his neck and groaning.

“Vernonie,” he squeaked.

“Quiet.”

Seungkwan finally settled down and grew soft and sleepy, just like he used to.

I missed this so much.

“I missed this,” I whispered, and since my own arms were loose with sleep it allowed the tiniest room for his small arm to wiggle through, combing through my hair and settling on my nape.

“You must be crazy,” he whispered back, but his eyes were misty.

I went back to hugging him.

____

“Vernon?”

I awoke with my arms still around his waist.

“What?” I asked groggily.

“I gotta pee,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Then pee?”

“I can’t! You’re squeezing my bladder like a–like a–a volleyball!”

I looked down and noticed how tightly my grip was. I loosened it and Seungkwan jumped up and sprinted for the bathroom. I snuck my hand into the warm spot he left and gathered the fabric tightly into my fist. If I didn’t think Seungkwan would yell at me, I might’ve followed him to the bathroom.

He returned minutes later with a soft blush on his cheeks.

“Um–”

I reached over and gripped the edge of his shirt, rolling him back under me and resuming our prior position.

“You know you can’t just hug me all day. We have work.”

I hummed noncommittally.

He tried to reach for his phone but I didn’t let him. “Stop,” I grumbled.

“What’s gotten into you?” He muttered sternly in a pout.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.

“You will. When you check your phone you will.”

Seungkwan couldn’t argue with that, because it was true. There was always somewhere to be.

“If I…if I promise to come back here–will that be okay?”

“No.”

He sighed. “It’s not?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Don’t leave.”

“I have to.”

“No.”

“Hanso–”

“Be quiet.”

It was in his silence, once again, where I heard the cogs in his brain start to turn.

“Jeonghan is gonna check on me. He’s gonna see us like this.”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“You’re okay with that?”

“I don’t care.”

“Seriously?”

“Just stay. Please.”

____

“Seungkwannie?” Jeonghan knocked on the door. He was usually awake far earlier and already on his morning jog. “You up?”

“Yes,” he answered, slightly muffled. “Um, there’s a problem.”

“Can I come in?”

 A few silent seconds passed. Then, finally, a slightly embarrassed, “Yeah.”

Jeonghan peeked in first and what he saw was…interesting to say the least. “Oh? Vernon,” he called. He was clinging tight to Seungkwan’s body, his face hidden in his neck.

“He won’t let go, hyung.” Seungkwan fidgeted nervously.

“Vernon,” Jeonghan called again, to no response. He sat on the edge of the bed and smacked his jean-clad calf. “What’re you doing here?”

Jeonghan exchanged glances with Seungkwan. 

“Told you,” he said, biting his lip.

“Okay, c’mon. Get up. Let go,” Jeonghan reached for Seungkwan, but one rage-filled eye peeked out at him and startled him into letting go.

“Go away,” Vernon grunted. He closed his eyes once more.

Jeonghan stepped back. He was gonna need some reinforcements. “I’ll be back,” Jeonghan reassured Seungkwan. He left the room, keeping the door open a tiny crack in case Seungkwan needed to shout for help. Who knew what kind of breakdown Vernon was having. It certainly wasn’t the first or the last.

“Seungcheol-ah,” He spoke into the phone. “We need your help at the dorm,” he sighed. “Why? Well, uh–” Jeonghan grimaced and looked away from the door, “Vernon is holding Seungkwanie hostage.”

____

Chapter Text

Seungcheol, Jihoon, Mingyu, and Soonyoung were all gathered in the hallway. Seungcheol had his hoodie up with bleary eyes, Jihoon had come from work, Soonyoung and Mingyu came from the gym.

“I don’t think I ever saw him look that angry, even when we were trainees,” Jeonghan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “It wasn’t like he was yelling or anything, but he was obviously upset.”

Jihoon rubbed his face, listening closely. Mingyu bit his lip and shuffled impatiently in front of the door. Soonyoung had that nearly-crying look.

“Did you hear them fighting or something last night?” Seungcheol asked, voice gruff and sleepy.

“No, I was sleeping the whole time,” Jeonghan pouted.

“Seungkwan missed his schedule. It was 30 minutes ago,” Jihoon announced.

“With who?” Seungcheol finally took his hood down.

“It can be rescheduled,” Jihoon sighed. “That’s not important right now.”

“I’m gonna go make some calls,” Seungcheol took his phone out of his pocket and wandered down the hall.

“Should I go in?” Soonyoung asked. “Just to pretend like I wanna hang out or something?”

“Yeah, we can ask if Vernon wants to go exercise with us,” Mingyu piped up.

“Do you think he’ll believe that?” Jeonghan raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Well–no.” Soonyoung sighed heavily. “But we can at least assess his temperament.”

“Okay, go ahead. Don't push him though.”

Soonyoung and Mingyu headed inside. Jihoon was quiet as he hung back with Seungcheol.

“Hey!” Soonyoung burst into Seungkwan’s room in a flurry of false-hype. “Oh hi Vernon!”

Mingyu looked over Soonyoung’s head, at the two laying in bed. “Oh? Are you sick?”

“Morning guys,” Seungkwan sighed. Vernon didn’t acknowledge them at all.

“Hey, Vernon?” Soonyoung jumped on the bed excitedly. “Vernon, vernon, vernon–” 

Mingyu hesitantly put a hand on Soonyoung. “Um–we were just wondering if you wanted to come to the gym with us?”

The silence in the room was blaring as loud as sirens. 

Another beat passed, and then…

“I know Seungcheol’s here,” Vernon said moodily. “And I’m not leaving. So send him in already.”

The fake aura dropped and Soonyoung climbed somberly off the bed. Seungkwan mouthed a quick, “sorry” as they left.

____

“You’re gonna get us both in trouble,” Seungkwan muttered. If there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was his schedule being ruined.

I couldn’t explain it, but the more they tried to get me off of him the worse I felt. First Jeonghan, then Soonyoung and Mingyu, and soon Seungcheol would be barging his way in–and that–well, that thought gave me pause.

“I'm suffocating,” Seungkwan murmured.

There was a sharp knock on the door, and not only did Seungcheol come in, but Jihoon too. I tightened my grip on Seungkwan.

“Hey kids…” Seungcheol closed the door behind Jihoon. Jihoon wandered over to my side and looked down at me. I could feel that questioning, cool gaze on my back. “Let’s talk.”

I finally looked at our leader, and realized just how calm and collected he really was. I had imagined him blazing with anger…but as usual– matters of the heart were different for us.

I watched him from beneath my bangs, signaling my assent by lowering my gaze.

Seungkwan’s thumb brushed against my arm.

“You know normally I would just let you be…work things out on your own,” he explained and pulled up a chair. “But Seungkwan missed his schedule and that not only affects us as a group but also the people who were waiting on him.”

That did make me feel a bit bad.

“Now, we can’t always predict stuff like this. And we’re pretty good at navigating crises as a group…” Seungcheol nodded to Jihoon.

“But only if you let us know what’s going on,” Jihoon finished.

“So, do you know what’s happening?” Seungcheol asked me directly.

I shrugged the shoulder that wasn't tucked into Seungkwan’s side.

I could sense the two conversing in their secret language from across the room.

“Can you try and explain?” Jihoon asked. “Seungkwan?” He looked to him for answers.

Seungkwan’s lip wobbled. He was too overwhelmed. I finally watched his expression as he turned to Jihoon. It was like I was under water, not able to pinpoint exactly what he was saying.

“I see,” Seungcheol nodded.

What did he see?

Jihoon hummed and exchanged glances with Seungcheol.

“It just finally poured over, huh?” Seungcheol asked kindly. 

I don’t know.  

“You probably don’t remember this,” Seungcheol leaned back in his chair and got comfortable. “When we were trainees, there was a time when Seungkwan needed to go back home. You were so scared that he wasn’t gonna come back.”

Jihoon nodded, remembering the lost look Hansol had at practice that week. “He left his earphones, and you wouldn’t let anyone near them,” Jihoon recounted. “You wrapped the wires around ur wrist like a bracelet, it was kinda funny.”

“When we were washing up, you wouldn’t take them off. We argued about it,” Seungcheol smiled. “When I finally got the earphones away from you, you got angry and locked yourself in the storage room downstairs.”

I remember . The irrational fear that took over me. Even though Seungkwan had a flight back the next day, I was scared.

“So we called Seungkwan and put it on speaker and we let you talk to him through the door.”

“Oh yeah,” Seungkwan said in a tiny voice. “I remember that.”

“You said, ‘Chwe Hansol, get out of that storage closet you’re gonna get all dusty!’” Jihoon perfectly mimicked him.

I felt my lips curl in a smile.

“When he finally got back, you gave him the earphones but they stopped working,” Seungcheol laughed. “I teased you about it for the longest time. I think that’s when I realized that it wasn’t really about the earphones. You just didn’t wanna let go of Seungkwan.”

A serene silence fell over the room. “Is this…the same?” Seungcheol asked. “Even though he’s here, in the same room, and you know he won’t leave–your brain tells you to hang on?”

Yes.

I let my eyes close. “It’s the same,” I muttered.

“Okay then, what do you need from us?” Jihoon asked. “We cleared your schedules already.”

“I wanna talk to my mom,” I said softly.

“Okay, no problem. As long as you stay in here though, you two need to eat.”

“Ok.”

Seungcheol called my mom and held the phone close.

“Mom,” I said.

“Hi baby, Seungcheol told me you weren’t feeling well.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I buried my head in the pillow.

“Seungkwan, honey? Are you there?” My mom asked, already seeming to know the answer.

“Yes, mom,” Seungkwan answered. “I’m here.”

“Just hold him back, honey.” My mom said sweetly. “Hold him tight.”

Seungkwan hesitantly followed her instructions. The harder he hugged me, the looser my hold on him became.

“Okay,” Seungkwan confirmed.

“Hansol, baby?” My mom asked. “Remember Seungkwan is his own person. Even though you really want to keep him by your side, he still gets agency over his own body. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I finally felt my grip on him release. Seungkwan’s didn’t though.

“Even though you might be in pain or hurt, you have to respect him.”

“Okay,” I said, a little brokenly.

“Okay?”

“Mhm,” I confirmed.

We talked for so long that Seungcheol gave up holding the phone and just set it down nearby.

“Now, you go and feel better,” she finally said in her best ‘mom voice’. “You can hang up now, Seungcheol.”

I heard them mutter goodbye in English and the phone went quiet.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I didn’t know to whom I was speaking. Maybe to all of them. Maybe to myself.

Seungcheol and Jihoon eventually left to bring us food. I didn’t meet Seungkwan’s eyes when we ate, and I didn’t say goodbye when I left.

Chapter Text

The first person to find out, I mean really find out, was Myungho. I can't remember the exact details because I was mostly focused on Seungkwan's reaction. It was obvious to some members like our leader,  but nobody ever said it out loud, not the way Myungho did.

It was before we debuted. A simple look and a gentle hand hold, and Myungho’s first words in broken Korean were: “Namja chingu?” 

He said it with a slight pause like he wasn't sure if he should be saying it at all. When he saw our reactions I think that kind of cemented the idea in his head and maybe that was the first nail in our coffin.  

I sometimes wonder how things would have turned out if we stayed together the way we were as kids, when our friends could ask namja chingu–are you boyfriends–innocently, like a child and I would simply answer: yes .

That's not exactly how it turned out. Seungkwan looked away. He didn't answer. He pretended that he didn't hear him at all. But his voice, the way he asked, it was impossible not to strike both of our hearts with fear and a little bit of anger, because how dare he. How dare he speak and ask what everyone was wondering, how could he put those thoughts into words, the thoughts that were in our heads?

In the corner of my eye, I saw a staff member taking notice of what was said and she pulled him aside that day and I'm sure you can guess what she told him. I don't have to spell it out for you. I spent the rest of that day listening to music and thinking about him. 

I express my emotions and the things I'm feeling in music. Seungkwan expresses his through it. He spent that entire day and night in the practice room singing and it broke my heart. I knew exactly what he was thinking, I knew exactly what he was feeling, and I couldn't say a thing.

Our hearts met when we caught eyes in the practice room mirrors. Maybe caught it's not the right word: snag, captured, ensnared.

It was painful and it scared me.

Myungho came and apologized at the end of the practice day. He had a guilty sort of smile on his face and he said, “I misunderstood. I’m sorry.”

I wanted to tell him that he didn't misunderstand, that he was probably the only one who understood it thoroughly and plainly. I said it was okay and my eyes were red because I was holding back tears.

Why did you have to apologize? I wanted to ask. Why do you feel sorry for such an innocent question like that? It made me sick to my stomach because I knew why.  It was the same reason why we ignored him when he asked. It was the same reason why I said it's okay. But it wasn't.

Oh how I wanted to say, yes .

I wanted the courage to ask that same question and have Seungkwan answer. I didn't want to be the one saying yes. I wanted him to say it and if he did, I would've followed him. 

We gave up each other in order to reach our dreams. Now that we're here, how can we find our way back down? There's no other way but to jump. The fall will be nasty. We'll hit the ground and be nothing but flesh and shattered bone but we’d finally be together. 

The view is beautiful up here and I get to share it with you. I wish that was enough. 

If you look at me when we fall I'll make sure it's painless. Don't look down.

Now that all this time has passed and we have more and more to lose I'm afraid that you won't follow me over the edge. 

So this is not a love letter…this is a plea. I’m in the 5 steps of grief, in which I'm bargaining and begging.  Please hold my hand once again.

Please .

____

When we resumed our schedule as normal, I sat in the back seat and put my headphones on. I was dead on my feet; my skin itching, my head pounding. I scrolled on Twitter and Weverse and I read the kind messages from carats. I wondered which of them would curse at me if they knew.

I was still off. I was lost and confused.  I wondered why Seungkwan didn't follow me in my desperation that day. I started to feel that maybe he stopped understanding me a long time ago. 

Maybe I just haven't noticed because I was so caught up in my own feelings about how unfair everything was. I know I should have been a better friend, but I couldn't bring myself to get that close. If I got close enough I feared I would reach out and hold onto him and not let go.

I guess I had hoped, in some universe, Seungkwan would’ve dragged me under too. We would fight and claw to get back up to the surface for oxygen, but eventually we’d succumb and drown together.

Instead, some makeshift lifeboat pulled us both out before I was ready.

Even though I knew they did it to help, I was irrationally angry at the guys. I was mad at Seungcheol and Jihoon for handling it all so well. I wanted to go kicking and screaming, but instead…I left with my ears down and tail between my legs. Scolded by my mom. Stared at by Mingyu and Soonyoung. I remember Jeonghan smiling at me sadly this morning when we were in the van.

It was uncomfortable.

I have my back to the edge of the cliff. My heels are already half an inch over. I watch him. He's far away surrounded by so many others. He's happy. He's smiling and laughing, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. 

So maybe I'll stay here just a little while longer, and watch. Maybe our eyes will snag again. Maybe I won't untangle myself this time.

____

I was sitting on the bus, sometime after midnight. I just didn’t wanna go home to an empty bed. It was funny. I often felt more exposed being in the privacy of my room than when I was in public. At this time, tired office workers were headed home. I liked watching them and wondering what their life was like…if they had anyone they loved like I did.

If they were allowed to love. If the person they loved, loved them back.

But they would nod off on the ride home, and wake up to depart, and I’d never see them again. I would never get my answers. I could stare all I wanted. Wonder all I wanted, but unless I made a fool of myself and asked–

____

“Have you ever been in love before?” 

Seungkwan’s gaze snapped over to me from the front seat. “What?”

Chan watched Seungkwan’s face from beside him.

“Me?” Seungkwan asked, voice slightly pitched.

I nodded. 

“I have!” Chan situated himself sideways, excited to share. I smirked a little at Chan. We all knew who his first love was.

“We know,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes. Chan pouted and crossed his arms.

“Well? Have you?” Chan asked brattily.

“Obviously!” Seungkwan stuttered, avoiding my gaze, “I’m 26!”

“Some 26-year-olds have never been in love,” Chan said. 

“Well–I–what about you?” Seungkwan turned the question back on me.

“Yes, I still am.” I never broke eye contact as I spoke. Seungkwan’s chest stuttered, and I could see his face turn cold.

“Oh?” Chan sat up straight, intrigued. “Really? With who?”

We arrived at our scheduled destination and Seungkwan booked it from the car before I could answer.

____ 

A day after that incident, Seungkwan came over to check on me. He made a joke and said that he was going to sit far away so that I wouldn't grab him. I told him that I was sorry and it wouldn't happen again. It was just a momentary lapse of judgment. 

He analyzed me. “Lapse of judgment?”

“Yes.” I didn't want to explain because the honest answer was that I would do it again.

He bit his lip and puffed his cheeks a little bit and looked down. His eyelashes fanned against his cheek. “Well, I wanted to talk about what you said.”

I didn't. I couldn't handle it. Like I said, I had half an inch over the edge already. “Maybe some other time. I’m really tired right now.”

His eyes narrowed in the way it does when he’s getting ready to argue about something.

“ Please .” I didn’t know what I was begging for this time.

“Let me stay,” he requested softly, eyes still burning.

“I can’t.” 

“You can’t?”

“I won’t.”

Seungkwan slammed his bag down. “So you get to do whatever you want? You can hold me down and sleep in my bed, but I can’t even stay in the same room as you because you say so?”

“It’s not that,” I tried to placate him.

“Then what is it?”

“Seungkwan, I can’t argue with you right now.”

“Well,” he huffed, his eyes tearing up, “that’s too bad!”

It would be so easy to fall. 

“Why can’t you?” I asked tensely.

“What?” 

“We can’t,” I repeated. “‘We can’t, we can’t, we can’t.’ Why not? Why won’t you?”

His breath caught in his throat when he realized what I was asking. His tears burst forth. He clenched his fists against his eyes angrily. “Don’t do this to me right now,” Seungkwan begged.

I didn’t react or reach out to him. You already know why. 

“Is what Josh said right? Do you also think I need to accept less from you? Just tell me.”

Seungkwan finally lowered his hands and sat down on the floor, his legs shaking wearily. “If I said ‘yes’ would you hate me?”

I smiled sadly and shook my head. “You could never make me hate you.”

“That’s not the issue though is it?” Seungkwan mutteredly soullessly. “The issue is that you love me too much.”

“There’s no such thing as loving you too much,” I looked down at the floor.

“It is too much. For this society, it is.” Seungkwan sniffled and leaned back against the coffee table.

“Is it more acceptable that we hate each other?” My voice broke sadly, mirroring the tearing inside my heart.

“Even normal couples can’t love each other. As idols, I mean.”

“I think we just forgot what it was like, to have to survive. We won’t be fighting for recognition anymore, we’ll just be…fighting for each other.”

Seungkwan looked at me, finally. “Real life doesn’t work that way, Hansol.”

“We can make it that way. Will you love me again?” I asked, holding my breath. 

Seungkwan laughed. “I never stopped, you idiot.”

_____

The scales tipped that day. 

Shua walked in on us. I thought he had left for the evening, but that one tiny detail got away from us. 

After our argument that didn’t quite end in resolve, we were going to take a nap together. Before we knew it though, our clothing was gone and our bodies were flush together. We had hardly even begun to figure out how to move on from the position we were in when the door opened. 

Josh’s eyes were doe-wide, his phone had just begun to blast the intro of GoSe. It would have been funny if the mortification hadn’t ripped through all three of us.

In a split second, the door slammed closed and he shouted, "Sorry!" There were footsteps retreating quickly down the hallway.

I pulled myself together first and gathered up my clothing. Seungkwan had buried his face in the pillows beneath him.

"What do we do? What do we do? Oh my god, what do we do?" Seungkwan was shivering now. I was dressed and sitting at the edge of the bed.

I considered Seungkwan's question, but my mind was flatline-loud. I was still hard and sweating, and my brain flashed to the position we were in when Shua saw us. It was obvious what we were in the middle of. My fingers were nearly inside Seungkwan and...Seungkwan was grinding against my thigh.

"Put your clothes on," I directed gently, trying to smile, but it just manifested as a grimace.

Twenty minutes later, Seungcheol arrived. As expected. It was as if Seventeen operated on one singular brain cell. He knocked on the door and peeked in, looking at the two of us sitting on opposite ends of the bed, embarrassed and ashamed. 

Seungcheol only smiled and opened the door wide, motioning us out.

With many years of Seungcheol-scolding under my belt, it was clear that meant we were going to talk. Our only options were to follow or to follow. Joshua was nowhere to be seen. In fact, it looked as if the whole flat was empty again just as it should have been to begin with.

Joshua definitely panic-messaged Seungcheol.

"You guys okay?" Seungcheol asked gently. 

Seungkwan nodded his head but he was clearly on the verge of tears. Seungcheol laughed a little and pulled him in by the neck. "Calm down, you're not in trouble."

We arrived in the front room and sat down on the couch. 

"Shua told me what happened," he started, "and I just need to know if you guys are serious about this."

I couldn't look him in the eyes. I knew Seungcheol wouldn't punish us. In fact, I know he supported us, but that just made it harder to face.

"I think we're still trying to figure that out ourselves, honestly."

"I don't want to embarrass you guys or whatever, because that's not my concern right now. I think it's my responsibility to protect you two if this is what you both want."

Seungkwan dragged his hands down his face. "I'm gonna die. I'm seriously gonna die."

"It would be great if I could give you space to figure this out on your own time, but we just don't have that luxury." Seungcheol leaned over and patted our knees. "We're a family. I just want you guys to be happy...have a good life, you know?"

"To be honest, this is literally the second time that we ever...you know, like actually got that serious...uh," Seungkwan gestured between them awkwardly, "intimately."

“Second?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows raised comically. 

I covered my eyes and shook my head, only just smothering my laughter.

"Nevermind. Please spare me the details," Seungcheol mumbled.

"I don't think we, this , will ever go away, Hyung,” I said, sobering up the moment with my tone. Love spilled too heavily within it.

"Okay then. That's all I needed to know." Seungcheol stood up and gave us both an exaggerated kiss on the head. "Do you want me to tell the guys?"

"Uh, not yet. Just tell Shua hyung not to say anything."

"Sure."

When the door clicked shut again, Seungkwan flipped sideways on his back. He groaned loudly and fanned his face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Embarrassment. I was secretly elated. For once, at 26 years old, we actually got to be embarrassed. We were disturbed during an intimate moment, and we finally got to feel ashamed. Not because we were afraid, but because we were embarrassed. Mortified, even. 

I grinned as I thought about it. How easy it was to melt away. To flop and expose our bellies because we were safe. To exhale and be embarrassed. What a wonderful feeling it was.

I climbed over Seungkwan and wrapped my arms around him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin, and everywhere else. He squirmed and erupted into giggles.

“What are you doing? Do you want to get caught again?” He laughed, his cheeks were on fire and his eyes were dewey.

“Yes.”

“Eh?”

“Let’s get caught again,” I whispered softly. 

Seungkwan quieted down and we curiously looked at one another. I touched my cheek tenderly to his, and as our skin constantly renewed itself, I wished to feel what this hour’s cells were like. I wanted to know it deeply until it died and floated away.

Seungkwan sniffled a little. “You’re a real pervert, you know,” he kissed my cheek.

“Am I?” I asked and squished myself between the couch and him. We scooted around until we faced one another. My arm under his head, my hand on his hip, our legs entwined.

Seungkwan’s gentle, delicate fingers traced down my neck. “I think, maybe, we should talk to the members.” He said this a little guiltily and I had an inkling of what he meant.

“Yeah,” I acquiesced, if only to please him. He seemed satisfied with that.

I closed my eyes and we both slipped into unconsciousness in each other’s arms, finally relieved that our souls were close once again. Our child counterparts embraced and rejoiced.

We can. 

When?

What about now?

Now. Now. Now.

Chapter Text

20 hours later.

“It’s an emergency meeting. I don’t know, Seungkwan and Hansol. Yes. Okay, see you in a bit. Yeah, okay.” Seungcheol hung up the phone and pulled up to Hansol’s apartment. He headed up to the elevators and to the correct floor.

He unlocked the door with the keypad and let himself in with a sigh, hanging his jacket up and taking his shoes off. It was quiet in the hallway with suspicious noises coming from the bathroom. Seungcheol froze to listen.

“The guys’ll be here soon. Can you rinse my hair out for me?” Seungkwan asked. Hansol’s voice mumbled something. Seungcheol’s face broke out into a wide grin and he tiptoed past the door and flung himself onto the couch, sighing happily. He noticed a few articles of clothing scattered about and the rug on the floor askew. He snickered softly to himself and then heard the shower turn off.

The door opened and it was quiet, soft smacking noises filled the hallway. Seungcheol peeked over the couch and giggled into his palm at the sight of Hansol holding Seungkwan against the door, kissing him like their life depended on it.

When he finally lost sight of Hansol’s hands, he cleared his throat and the two jumped away. Seungkwan squealed in horror.

“Hyung!” Seungkwan was the first to recover as he stomped over to the giggling grown man and tried to suffocate him with a pillow. Vernon sighed and went to clean up the evidence, meaning their clothing and an inconspicuous bottle of empty lube.

Seungcheol finally wrestled his way out from under the pillow and gasped for air. “He’s actually gonna kill me!”

Seungkwan pouted and huffed, sitting down next to Seungcheol with his arms crossed.

“My kids are finally grown up,” Seungcheol squeezed Seungkwan's face and kissed his cheek. “Congratulations!”

“We’re 26,” Seungkwan replied.

“Yeah and it took you this damn long to get together,” Seungcheol clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“We’re not together!” Seungkwan refuted awkwardly, “Yet…”

“Oh? Then what was that?” Seungcheol jutted his chin to where they were just a minute ago. “Practice?”

Hansol reappeared and smiled. “That’s what the meeting is for. We…wanted to ask everyone first.”

Seungcheol tilted his head. “Why?”

“Well, if something happens. If anyone finds out, then, well, you know…”

“Seventeen will suffer,” Seungkwan finished a little guiltily.

“Ah,” Seungcheol finally nodded. “What happens if the guys say no?”

Seungkwan and Hansol shared a devastated look. “Then we…we won’t date.”

“Well, I say no.” Seungcheol shrugged.

“See? I knew he would–wait–what?”

____

“This is great,” Seungkwan muttered sarcastically. “If Seungcheol won’t even support us than what chance do we have for anyone else to?”

Joshua and Jeonghan looked up, confused, as they ate the food they brought over. “What’s this about again?”

“Yeah, I thought we were having a party,” Seokmin piped up as he also stuffed his mouth with food.

“Who said anything about a party?” Josh wondered.

“Hey guys! Ready to party?” Chan made his way into the apartment loudly with a karaoke machine.

“Him,” Seokmin pointed at Chan who was wearing sparkly sunglasses.

“Oh,” Josh nodded.

“Oh my god,” Seungkwan groaned and melted into the corner chair.

“Not a party,” Jihoon snatched the glasses off of Chan with an amused smile.

“Why did you guys even bring food for?” Seungkwan pouted, snatching a piece of tteokbokki off Joshua’s plate, avoiding his hyung’s eyes.

“Don’t we usually have food at these meetings?” Wonwoo wondered.

Mingyu nodded in agreement. “I thought we had a meeting scheduled for the last day of the month?”

“We do,” Hoshi grumbled, “It was my turn to plan.”

“This meeting has nothing to do with that one,” Hansol said.

“Yeah, you big baby,” Seungkwan kicked Hoshi in the butt.

“So what is this meeting for then?” Minghao asked curiously as he sat quietly in the corner, observing everyone clearly missing the point. 

“Hansol and Seungkwan have something to discuss with us,” Jun filled him in proudly, for once being caught up.

The entire team turned toward the two who were ironically on opposite sides of the room.

Everyone finally started to catch on to the seriousness of the situation and stopped eating and drinking, dedicating their entire attention to the two.

“Well, we, I mean, Seungkwan and I wanted to know what you guys thought…” Hansol cleared his throat, “about us dating.”

“Ha! I knew it first!” Josh clapped, belatedly remembering how he knew. “Oh yeah, sorry by the way,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

The only one who didn’t quite catch the insinuation tilted his head questioningly, “When did you guys even have time to get girlfriends?” Chan asked innocently.

Minghao “tsk-ed” disapprovingly from behind him.

“They mean each other,” Seungcheol explained kindly, smiling at the reaction of their youngest whose world suddenly seemed tilted.

“Oh!” he gasped, then blushed a bit. “I’m sorry! I mean, congratulations! So you guys are gay?”

Jihoon was laughing his ass off in the back of the room.

Only a few others seemed apprehensive. Jun looked concerned, and Jeonghan was quietly pensive.

“What happens if someone finds out?” Jeonghan asked. 

“That’s right. The entire group and our families would face discrimination,” Jun pointed out. 

Hoshi suddenly sat up straight, his eyebrows furrowed. “When has fear of discrimination ever stopped us?” He looked around the room at everyone. “If we should be banned for something, why not it be for love?”

Seokmin smiled at Hoshi and patted him on the back.

“Our families have had our backs through everything,” Joshua mentioned. “Even if their personal beliefs don’t align, they’d still support Hansol and Seungkwan if it comes down to it.”

“And we have lots of gay carats!” Chan exclaimed with shining eyes.

Jihoon’s laughter echoed down the hallway as he left the room.

“Didn’t Seungcheol say he was bisexual once?” Jeonghan turned to look at the leader with an impish smile.

“This isn’t about me,” Seungcheol grumbled. Jihoon started up a whole new round of laughter. “Jihoon, stop laughing and come out here!”

Jihoon came back wiping his eyes. “Sorry, it’s just funny. I thought,” he laughed, “I thought at least half of you were already dating each other. I mean Hoshi,” he pointed out, “pfft, he’s–he thinks he's a tiger. We have bigger issues here.”

Hoshi looked affronted, but it did click then. “That’s true. Isn’t this normal?”

“That Hansol and Seungkwan are in love? Yes. That you’re a tiger? No.” Minghao deadpanned.

It seemed like Seungkwan and Hansol didn’t know where to go from there, so Seungcheol took over.

“I’ve already told them my answer,” Seungcheol announced resolutely.

“That you said yes?” Jeonghan asked, seeming to already assume so.

“I said no, of course.”

“Eh?!” The other ten of them chorused.

Seungcheol shrugged. “Why? Don’t you agree? We worked this hard for ten years. If anyone finds out, our career is over.”

“But that’s not fair!” Chan seemed the most upset at this answer. “I got to date! And I didn’t even like her that much! Hansol and Seungkwan are like brothers. They should be able to date too!”

“Well–” Seungkwan hesitated to challenge the ‘brothers’ claim while the youngest was arguing in favor of them.

“Our career is Seventeen though. If we aren’t supporting each other, then it doesn’t mean anything,” Jun said. “We’ve always been true to ourselves, no matter how hard it was.”

“Even if we lose connections and are hated, I mean, is that any different from before?” Wonwoo mentioned, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll just earn them again. Plus, we have trusted contacts now. Especially Jihoon.”

“It’s not that easy to throw us away,” Mingyu grinned. “They’ve tried before.”

“I have no issues with it,” Jihoon shrugged. “I’ll get paid regardless. And practically half of the producers I’m in contact with are gay.”

“There’s a lot of gay people in the industry when you think about it,” Seokmin said thoughtfully.

“Gay people are talented,” Seungkwan nodded confidently. The rest of the room hummed in agreement.

“What else do you have an issue with, Seungcheol hyung?” Chan wondered, his eyes shone with unshed tears.

“Well, can’t they wait until after our contract is over?” Seungcheol resisted the urge to laugh as the entire room erupted in shouts.

“If you were in love would you want to wait even another second after already waiting 10 years!?” Mingyu pointed accusingly.

“Yeah, you're so inconsiderate hyung, I’m disappointed in you.” Seokmin frowned. The others who seemed hesitant at first were defensive now.

“They’re in love! How can you say that?” 

“Yeah!”

Hansol was the first and only one to catch on. He smiled, his eyes a little glossy. He quietly sat down next to their leader as the room continued to loudly protest. “You were never against us to begin with, were you?” he whispered despite the shouting match all around them and Seungcheol gave him a look.

“Please,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “I’ve been waiting years for this moment. Like I’d let anyone disagree. If I know one thing, it’s that the guys work together best against a common enemy,” he pointed to himself.

Even though he wasn’t one for initiating hugs, he wrapped Seungcheol in his arms and squeezed, just like he was a kid again. 

Seungcheol hugged back, cradling his head, imagining a terrified 15 year old. “I’m proud of you. Didn’t I say it’d be okay?”

“You were right.”

“Be happy, Hansol.” Seungcheol said resolutely, and that familiar leader gaze appeared. It was as if he was threatening him. “And take care of each other.”

“We will, hyung.”

“Oh, and one last thing.”

“Yes?”

Seungcheol looked him in the eye. “For god’s sake, lock the door. ”