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Ha Joon sighed as he tightened his shoelaces, mentally preparing for another long day of practice. Being a trainee was tough, and lately, the weight of constant evaluation had been dragging him down.
He barely noticed when someone approached, their shadow falling over him.
“Hyung!” Jing Xiang’s booming voice startled Ha Joon, who glanced up to see the towering trainee grinning down at him.
“Oh. It’s you,” Ha Joon muttered, trying not to sound too pleased.
Jing Xiang crouched down to his level, his big, bright eyes sparkling. “What’s with the long face? You’re usually so focused. Did something happen?”
“It’s nothing,” Ha Joon replied quickly, fiddling with his shoelace.
Jing Xiang wasn’t buying it. “Hyung, you’re amazing, okay? You’re always so cool when you’re practicing. And have I mentioned how good-looking you are? Like, seriously, your visuals could crush anyone.”
Ha Joon froze mid-motion, his ears turning pink. “W-What are you talking about?”
“I’m just being honest!” Jing Xiang said, his voice brimming with sincerity. “You’ve got this, Hyung. Don’t let anything bring you down.”
Ha Joon couldn’t help but smile a little at the encouragement. “Thanks,” he said softly, standing up.
But before he could step away, Jing Xiang’s hands were suddenly around his waist, and in one swift motion, Ha Joon was airborne.
“Put me down!” Ha Joon yelped as Jing Xiang spun him around in circles.
“You’re too light, Hyung! Are you eating enough?” Jing Xiang teased, his laugh echoing through the practice room.
“I’m going to be sick!” Ha Joon protested, squirming in Jing Xiang’s arms.
Finally, Jing Xiang set him down, but not before pulling him into a tight hug. “Don’t get too serious, Hyung. Remember, you’re not alone.”
Ha Joon grumbled something under his breath, but Jing Xiang didn’t seem to mind.
---
“New rule: no more lifting me,” Ha Joon declared the next day during their lunch break.
Jing Xiang paused mid-bite, looking genuinely confused. “Why not? You’re so easy to lift, Hyung. It’s fun!”
“It’s embarrassing,” Ha Joon replied, avoiding Jing Xiang’s gaze.
“But you look so cute when you’re flustered,” Jing Xiang said with a cheeky grin.
Ha Joon glared at him, but the effect was lost as Jing Xiang’s words sank in, and his face turned red again.
“Rule two,” Ha Joon continued, trying to regain his composure. “No spinning. Ever.”
Jing Xiang pouted. “But Hyung—”
“No buts.”
“Fine,” Jing Xiang sighed dramatically. “But only because it’s you.”
As the competition progressed, the trainees were shuffled into different teams, and Ha Joon and Jing Xiang found themselves separated. While Ha Joon appreciated the peace and quiet, something felt... off.
That feeling only intensified when Jing Xiang would bound over to him between practices, his energy filling the room like sunshine.
“Hyung, I missed you so much!” Jing Xiang exclaimed one day, sweeping Ha Joon into yet another bear hug.
“You just saw me yesterday,” Ha Joon muttered, though he didn’t resist the hug.
“But it felt like forever,” Jing Xiang said, squeezing him tighter. “Do you know how boring it is without you?”
Ha Joon sighed, his resolve weakening. “Fine, I missed you too. Happy?”
Jing Xiang’s face lit up, and before Ha Joon could stop him, he was being lifted into the air again.
“Jing Xiang! What did I just say about lifting me?!”
“But you admitted you missed me!” Jing Xiang replied, twirling them both around.
“Put me down!” Ha Joon yelled, half-annoyed, half-laughing.
---
It wasn’t until the final evaluation stage that Ha Joon realized just how much Jing Xiang’s presence had meant to him.
After their performances, Jing Xiang found him sitting alone backstage, staring at his hands.
“Hyung,” Jing Xiang called softly, sitting down beside him.
Ha Joon glanced at him, his expression uncharacteristically open. “I was nervous today, but then I thought about what you said... all those times you encouraged me. It helped.”
Jing Xiang’s face softened. “Hyung, you don’t have to thank me. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Still,” Ha Joon said, his voice barely above a whisper, “it means a lot. You mean a lot.”
For once, Jing Xiang didn’t respond with a hug or a lift. Instead, he simply rested his head on Ha Joon’s shoulder, his usual excitement replaced by quiet contentment.
“Hyung,” he murmured, “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
Ha Joon didn’t reply, but the slight lean into Jing Xiang’s touch said enough.
---
Even after the competition ended, their dynamic didn’t change.
“Hyung, I missed you!” Jing Xiang exclaimed one day during a reunion, lifting Ha Joon off the ground despite his protests.
“Stop with the lifting!” Ha Joon yelled, though his complaints were half-hearted.
And as Jing Xiang laughed, spinning him around one last time, Ha Joon couldn’t help but smile, secretly grateful for his giant baby of a dongsaeng.