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Brian knew Chris thought his secret was safe, that no one knew, and in a way, the secret was safe. Brian wasn’t going to tell anyone. Chris wasn’t obvious, though, Brian had to give him that. It had taken a while for Brian to put it all together. The way Chris would linger in their dorm in the mornings, sipping at his banana milk. The way he constantly provoked Brian in ways that ended in a wrestling match. A wrestling match that always left Chris pinned to the bed - or the floor, or the wall - conceding defeat. It was Chan’s eyes that eventually gave it all away.
Chris’s eyes followed Brian every time he showed up to a practice session. If there hadn’t been mirrors along one wall of the production room - mirrors that showed Chris’s profile at just the right angle for Brian to catch him - maybe Brian wouldn’t have figured it out.
After the first realization it had been easy to see everything else. So much of Chris fell into place for Brian. He hadn’t considered Chris may float that way, though it wasn’t surprising. Plenty of people in the industry weren’t straight. Brian was only just starting to accept that he may be part of that ‘plenty of people’.
He supposed it was flattering to have an admirer. Actually, he had no clue what to do about it. Attuned to notice it, he could feel whenever Chris’s eyes were on him - mirrors or not - a heat that seemed to sear his very skin. But Chris was a baby and whatever Brian felt kissing random boys in closets, all he could feel was revulsion at the thought of doing anything similar with Chris. Still, it was probably a good idea to stop shoving the kid in boxes. And stop walking around the dorm half-naked.
The crush would pass, eventually.
Except - it never really did. Brian just got used to it. He debuted, Chris debuted. They both grew up. Brian got his heart broken once, then a second time.
And still, year after year he would sometimes feel the heat on his skin and look around to meet Chris’s eyes.
Chris never did anything about it, though.
Brian heard rumors. Chris was dating a fellow trainee, then another idol, then another or maybe it was a band member that time (bullshit, Brian knew because Chris would never).
It started to gall, though. Surely 10 years was long enough to get over a crush? Brian was 31 for fucks sake, what would a young, hot it boy like Stray Kids’s BangChan want with him, still? Why would he still poke and needle at Brian hunting for affection in punches and headlocks like they were still teens? Brian had also heard stories of the ‘Kids going out to clubs - in Itaewon - now that they had re-signed and bargained themselves into more freedom. Surely Chris was getting all he needed there. What did he want with a boring old man that tucked himself into bed at 9:30pm?
The question niggled at him. Needled him. Burrowed in and festered until it threatened to obliterate any other thought every time they met. Which, thankfully, wasn’t that often these days. Heck they never even really texted anymore, both so busy with their lives. And that fact shouldn’t hurt.
Furious with himself, he buried himself in his bed and tried not to think about the last time he and Chris had met up, filming for his show. There had been a moment in the bustle of producers and boom mics and interns scurrying with coffee, when he’d looked across the sound stage and caught a glimpse of Chris in the mirror of the makeup table. Chris. Looking at him. The desire had been naked in his eyes. Brian had doubled over in a coughing fit to cover the hot flush that surged up his face. Of course Chris had been right there, slapping his back and asking if he was ok. Their eyes had met for a moment, Brian hunched mid cough, one of Chris’s hands on his waist to steady him, the other rubbing rough circles on his back.
“I’m fine,” Brian had said. Everything was fine, he reiterated to himself from the safety of his bed. Except Chris had been looking at him that way and still he’d said nothing about it. Done nothing about it. What did Brian want him to do?
Later, Brian would blame the alcohol. The alcohol and the season. It was Christmas’s fault. Where he was from Christmas was for families. Why did he have to be surrounded by giggling couples and thinking of Chris’s eyes?
Why had he bothered coming to the company Christmas party? It was nearly 9, surely he’d put in enough face time. He could sneak out the back and -
A loud gaggle of shouting announced the arrival of Stray Kids. Brian stifled a groan. He loved them, really, but - Chris appeared. Brian let the groan he’d held back escape then downed the rest of his beer, grabbing for a shot glass of soju for a chaser. Chris was dressed in an exquisitely tailored black suit. The cut accentuated his wide shoulders, his narrow hips and the power in his body. He made Brian feel old and flabby.
It was time to go home.
Except Chris's eyes found him and his face - fuck, the longing was disgusting. Brian’s heart ached.
Yes, later Brian would blame the alcohol. There was no other explanation for how he wound up, seconds later, pushing Chris through the door and down the hall to the fire stair. Everything echoed strangely and the light overhead cast everything in a strange yellow glow.
“Hyung?” Chris asked. “Are you ok?”
“Why,” was all Brian could manage.
“Why?”
Why had Chris never stopped looking at Brian that way? Brian pushed, hard.
“Hyung what-” The wind knocked out of Chris as his back hit the wall of the landing. “What are you-”
Brian pressed up against him, head spinning. His hands spread across Chris’s chest, feeling the hardness of muscle, the heat of Chris’s skin under his black satin shirt. He slid his hands up to shoulder, to neck, to tilt Chris’s head up so that he could look into Chris’s eyes. Chris’s breath came in heavy pants. He licked his lips. “Hyung, what are you doing?”
“Giving you want you want,” Brian said. “What you’ve always wanted.”
And without more explanation he pulled Chris’s face forward and kissed him. It was deep and hot. Chris froze for a moment and then desperate hands wrapped around Brian’s waist, pulling him close. Satisfaction blossomed in Brian as he felt Chris’s erection press against his hip. As a reward, Brian slid his tongue between Chris’s plump lips. Chris sucked on it like a man dying, starving. He devoured Brian, pathetic whimpers bubbling up between them.
Chris broke off, pulling his head back. “Why?”
The question made no sense so Brian asked one of his own. “Why did you never do anything?” Chris’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why was that so adorable? Brian butted their heads together. “Ten years,” he said. “You’ve been staring at me for ten years. More, actually.”
Chris went very still. His whisper was raw. “You knew?”
“I’ve always known.”
Chris blushed hot red to his ear tips. Brian’s fingers trailed up to touch them.
“Why?”
“You didn’t want me,” Chris admitted, looking away. Brian turned his head back to claim his eyes again.
“You were a kid. Of course I didn’t want you then.”
“Then?” The word hovered between them and Chris’s eyes searched his, reading the implication. “And now?”
For answer Brian kissed him again just to hear more of his needy little whimpers.