Work Text:
Kim Woonhak has a lot to be thankful for.
Every day he wakes up excited. He gets to do things that most people only dream of accomplishing, the stars within his reach.
He gets to do what he loves, singing, performing, making people happy. He gets to stand on stage and be seen, be valued by more people than even seems possible.
There’s a lot for him to appreciate. So many big, grand things for him to be thankful for.
There’s also the small things. The simple ones.
Jaehyun settles on the couch next to him and falls against his side. The rest of the dorm is quiet, the others asleep or otherwise distracted, almost all of the lights switched off. The only sound other than Jaehyun’s soft breathing, is the constant white-noise hum of the vents.
He leans against Woonhak, arm coiling around one of his, cheek pressing into his shoulder. It really is a simple thing, the affection Jaehyun gives him in moments like this— Woonhak will object and complain in front of cameras, but not like this. Not when Jaehyun seeks him out purely to sink against his side and wrap around him like ivy clings to a brick building.
Like this, Jaehyun is… Jaehyun. He’s not their bubbly, charismatic born leader. He’s not Woonhak’s loud overprotective hyung. He’s not the expectations held above his head or the years training that brought him here or whatever might have happened to make him look so exhausted today.
Well, he is all those things, but he’s also not. In this moment, when it’s just the two of them pressed under the dim grey-blue light, he’s just Jaehyun.
Woonhak wouldn’t trade getting to experience Jaehyun for the world.
“Hyung just needs to recharge, don’t mind me,” Jaehyun sighs wistfully. He rubs his face gently against Woonhak’s shoulder, eyes shut, eyelashes kissing his cheeks. Something inside Woonhak aches, nestled right between his ribs.
I don’t mind. I never do. Not when it’s you.
“Sure, hyung,” Woonhak answers. “Whatever you need.”
Jaehyun hums and moves even closer, hooking one of his legs over one of Woonhak’s thighs. He fidgets a little with the sleeve of Woonhak’s hoodie, fingers hooking in the hem, knuckles brushing the inside of his wrist. “Today was long.”
Woonhak hums, giving him space to continue. Jaehyun doesn’t always wanna talk about the things that bother him, and he can get spooked out of it sometimes, dismissing his own feelings with a joke or with a ‘i can handle it, i’m the leader after all’. He wishes he wouldn’t do that.
Woonhak doesn’t exactly know how to express that he wants Jaehyun to be vulnerable with him. That he’d set the world on fire if it meant Jaehyun could stay the warm, bright person he is. That he’d help shoulder any burden if it meant they did it together, side by side. What he feels aren’t the types of things that can be easily explained with words, so Woonhak doesn’t really try. That’s never really been how he loves anyway.
“I’m just tired,” Jaehyun says then, quieter, like the admission could kill him.
Woonhak slips his arm from Jaehyun’s grasp and the older makes a displeased noise, something between a groan and the audible equivalent of a question mark.
“Yah,” Woonhak huffs, a smile finding his face as he instead wraps his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulders, dragging him closer. He knows this is what Jaehyun needs right now. He needs to feel safe, to feel cared for. He needs patience, gentle hands to comb through his hair, someone to just be there. Simple.
Jaehyun softens into his hold, head tucking against Woonhak’s chest. It’s a dangerous game, because he knows his heart rate will pick up inevitably and Jaehyun always teases him when it does, but it seems a little different this time. He just melts against him like gravities bound them together, fused them into one.
He thinks about that time he saw people blowing glass up close on a trip with his dad. The thick molten liquid being carefully cooled and shaped into something beautiful. He had watched the demonstrator make two flowers out of glass and then, with heat applied to the ends, fused them together. By the time it cooled, he got to run his fingers over the smooth edges, not a single bump or knick to prove there had ever been a time they weren’t together.
Woonhak cards his fingers through the fluffy strands. There’s a warmth in his body that can’t be explained away by just cuddling; It’s right to his core, the very thing pumping blood through his veins, heavy and insistent.
They are two works of glass fused neatly together. Nothing less.
Jaehyun, curled at Woonhak’s side, tilts his head until he can look him in the eyes. He smiles gently, eyes hooded and sleepy. “Thank you for this, Woonhakie.”
Woonhak shakes his head, the hand in Jaehyun’s hair stalling, fingers cradled gently around the back of his skull. He scratches gently at his scalp, a subtle thing, and Jaehyun’s eyes flutter, something incredibly soft taking shape in his irises.
He looks so.. soft. Unguarded. Jaehyun.
It makes Woonhak’s chest burn. There’s a fire in his heart, one sparked a long time ago that has only grown, the flames fed by looks, by touches, with time.
He responds, voice low, intimate, as if there was anyone else who could hear him anyway. “It’s nothing.”
Jaehyun is the one to shake his head this time, and Woonhak swears his eyes glow. “It’s not nothing..”
He doesn’t really know how to respond. How can he say ‘it’s nothing to me because you are everything’ without sounding like an idiot or like he’s plagiarizing some cheesy drama. Surely not with words.
Woonhak leans in before he can even think about talking himself out of it. It doesn’t last long, the contact chaste and fleeting, but it’s nice. Warm. Simple.
When he pulls away, Jaehyun’s eyes are blown wide, his plush lips parted. Jaehyun’s hands, which have been resting in his own lap, clench around the fabric of his sweatpants, almost antsy. “I’m sorry,” Woonhak starts, the hand in Jaehyun’s hair slipping out, but Jaehyun catches his arm before it can fully retract, fingers curled loose around his wrist.
“Don’t be,” He says quickly, and his other hand grabs at his hoodie strings, tugging him forward until their lips press together again. This time it’s longer, a burst of electricity right where they meet, the flames crackling and surging as Woonhak lets himself want. Lets himself have.
It’s a simple moment, and that’s what makes it special.
It’s just Woonhak and Jaehyun. Settled in the quiet blue of their dorm, the two of them and their hearts and a carefully tended fire that doesn’t seem like it will go out anytime soon.
Woonhak has a lot to be thankful for.