Work Text:
“You look good, hyung.”
Jongseong turns away from the mirror he’s been standing in front of for nearly an hour—buttoning and unbuttoning his shirt, messing with his hair, switching out necklaces for bracelets, generally fussing—and narrows his eyes at Jungwon like he’s trying to find the lie or joke in his words. It’s not his fault to be fair, Jungwon thinks. How many times has Jungwon teased him—poking and prodding at him without relent, enjoying the reactions Jongseong gives instinctively—for him to be wary?
Too many times.
Jungwon doesn’t move a muscle, only offering Jongseong a sincere smile that threatens to crack at the corners with every second Jongseong scrutinizes him.
After a long minute, Jongseong relaxes. “Thank you Jungwon-ah,” he says, a small smile curving his lips. He goes back to patting his hair back into place, though there’s not much to pat in Junwon’s opinion. Jongseong’s hair is shiny with gel and slicked back to bare his forehead.
Jungwon’s eyes follow the focused flick of Jongseong’s finger as he tugs a single strand of hair to hang free. The satisfaction that deepens the lines of his face is instant.
“I’m ready to go,” Jongseong announces, whirling around so he’s visible for Jungwon to inspect. His dark eyes are accentuated by the short swoops of brown eyeliner he’d drawn with a careful hand.
The dress shirt Jongseong’s wearing is fancy, straight out of the part of his closet he reserves for special occasions—though you could argue most of Jongseong’s clothing fits under this category—and exposes the sharp jut of his collarbone. His shirt is tucked into his jeans, paired with a thick belt whose big buckle gleams underneath the glare of the room’s light and, most undoubtedly on purpose, emphasizes his slim waist.
Jongseong’s mouth is red and bruised, like he’s been chewing on it ever since he received the dinner invitation from Heeseung hours ago and was told to dress up because Hyung’s going to treat you, Jongseong-ah. Jungwon had been lounging on the couch of the upper floor’s dorm when Jongseong had rushed in, frantically sputtering that he needed something to wear and he appeared a second away from passing out.
It didn’t take much effort for Jungwon to go after him and sit himself on Jongseong’s gaming chair, spinning around in it and watching the spectacle of Jongseong trying and failing to not work himself into a tizzy.
Didn’t take much effort for Jungwon to keep quiet and observe him. Jongseong, so used to Jungwon making himself a permanent fixture in his room, barely acknowledged him.
What took effort was:
Biting his tongue hard enough that it bled; making sure he didn’t say anything about the way Jongseong’s face flushed every time he glanced at his phone, like he was remembering Heeseung’s message, or how he sprayed himself with that cologne that had him smelling like citrus and saffron, Heeseung’s favorite scent.
Jungwon tilts his head, longing pooling beneath his tongue like saliva. He curbs it almost violently. “Heeseung hyung won’t be able to keep his eyes off you,” he says grinning, like it doesn’t hurt him to watch Jongseong pinken at the mention of Heeseung.
“Yah! This is just dinner between friends. Group members.” Jongseong denies vehemently..
Right, Jungwon thinks. You spent an hour swapping shirts and redoing your hair and applying eyeliner because it’s a dinner between friends.
He doesn’t say that though.
Jungwon stands up and walks to Jongseong, closing the short distance between them. Jongseong’s distracted by his appearance again, fiddling with the bracelet on his right wrist.
It’s not a good night. For Jungwon at least. Witnessing Jongseong practically on cloud nine because the man he’d been in love with for the past five years had finally asked him out on a date—not a date, Jungwon can hear Jongseong correcting—makes his stomach twist painfully.
The urge to do something stupid—and there are plenty of stupid things Jungwon can do—has never been stronger.
Jungwon exhales quietly and moves away from Jongseong and closer to the door. Proximity to him has always made it harder to think, harder to be logical.
Just as Jongseong’s straightening up, his phone beeps. He yelps and immediately grabs it.
A delighted smile blooms on Jongseong’s face when he reads the notification and he says, looking up at Jungwon with crinkled eyes, “Hyung’s here, Jungwonie. I gotta go.” His gaze falls back to his phone and if possible, his face grows redder and he bites his lip.
Clearly he isn’t going to be sharing whatever has him grinning ear to ear, the image of infatuation. Jongseong slips his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls his arms through the sleeves of the denim jacket Jungwon had gifted him for his last birthday.
It feels like a punch to the stomach.
Jungwon tries not to think of the growing possibility of that jacket getting caught between Jongseong and Heeseung as they try to tug it off later in the evening. He fails of course.
“Have fun!” Jungwon says, waving. It only hurts a little when Jongseong leaves without a single glance back, his attention on the succession of beeps coming from his phone, the sender presumably Heeseung.
Jungwon is left alone in Jongseong’s room; among his belongings, his scent, the faint trace of him, but not Jongseong himself.
At some point along the way—maybe after their 1st world tour, or even before then—Jungwon started seeing Jongseong in a light he never had before.
He’s always liked Jongseong more than was ever considered moderate. But his affection for Jongseong reached heights never seen before.
He thinks that’s when his teasing grew more pointed and unrelenting.
Jungwon has always been incapable of handling his feelings with the supposed care they deserve; instead inadvertently making them obvious in the way he pursued Jongseong like a cat does a mouse.
With every day, week, month that flew by, Jungwon realized he wanted Jongseong more than he’d ever wanted anything. It feels like a lie because Jungwon has wanted beyond possibility before; wanted to make it in a survival show and debut in an idol group, but it feels different somehow.
As a trainee, even at his lowest, Jungwon had never felt the sort of jealousy that threatened to burn the lining of his stomach and make him do something he’d most likely regret.
Like rip off Heeseung’s face, for example.
The next morning can’t come slow enough because Jungwon wakes up to the noise of bustle in their living room to what feels like literal seconds after he’d closed his eyes.
He remembers the adoration in Jongseong’s voice as he rambled about how he never expected Heeseung to ever take him out to a fancy restaurant and can you believe it’s five stars, Jungwon-ah? I’ve been dying to go to that place forever
At times, Jungwon feels like a child in Jongseong’s presence because his first thought had been childish, petty.
I’d take you to a million places without making you wait for me for years.
When Jungwon steps into the living room, he can’t completely hide his dismay at the sight of Jongseong pressed to Heeseung’s side at the table, his eyes wide like he can’t believe the hand Heeseung has casually resting on the inside of his thigh is real. Or how Heeseung’s eyes bounce from the food in front of him to Jongseong, like he can’t keep his eyes off him. Like what Jungwon said last night.
Jungwon almost chokes with envy.
“Morning Jungwon! Come eat with us, hyung brought yummy leftovers from that place Jongseong and him went to last night,” Jake says from the other side of the table. He doesn’t seem to have noticed the almost obnoxious display next to him, or is ignoring it.
It’s not an option for Jungwon to ignore it. When it comes to Jongseong, he’s never been able to ignore anything.
Jongseong’s gaze falls on him at the sound of Jake’s voice and his face splits into a happy smile. There’s a hickey settled at the base of his throat, purple and bitten. It matches the purple of Heeseung’s hair, who spots Jungwon too and gives him a little smile. That smile turns smug when he glances at Jongseong, at the hickey on his throat, at the ones disappearing into the neck of his shirt.
Jongseong beckons him eagerly. “Come here Jungwonie, hyung got your favorites.”
Like he’s possessed, Jungwon walks over on feet that don’t feel like his own and sits next to Jongseong.
His smile feels fake, the cacophony of his stomach muffling his ears, when he says, “I see you two were busy last night.”
It gets the necessary reaction.
Heeseung laughs loudly, unembarrassed. Jongseong squawks as he blushes and admonishes Jungwon. And Jake, eyes flickering between the two like he was getting confirmation for something he guessed a long time ago.
It feels unreal.
Jungwon sits through Jongseong changing the subject and piling his plate high with food that tastes like chalk in his mouth, Heeseung finding excuses to touch Jongseong in anyway he can—brushing crumbs off the corner of his reddened lips, leaning over him to grab a tissue and touching their cheeks together, playing with his free hand while commenting on how the autumn air dried them out—and the reality that this was actually happening.
Biles rises to his throat.
Jungwon’s running for the bathroom before he realizes what’s happening, hands clamped over his stomach. He hears shouts behind him but then he’s bending over the toilet and emptying the contents of his stomach and there’s static zipping through his ears.
It feels like a punishment that the cool hands that pull his hair back and hold the nape of his neck are Jongseong’s.
One evening, months after Jongseong and Heeseung get together, Jungwon is sprawled on Sunoo’s bed and feels devoid inside.
You’d think the jealousy, the envy, would die down eventually.
You’d be proven wrong. Every time Jungwon sees Jongseong bursting with happiness in Heeseung’s arms and gushing about Heeseung to anyone who’ll listen, and listening to every word leaving his mouth be Heeseung’s name, it makes him want to carve himself alive.
Sunoo sighs loudly.
“What,” Jungwon says, blank-faced. He doesn’t bother to strain his neck to look at Sunoo and his position on the floor.
“I wouldn’t have invited you to my spa night if I knew you’d just be moping.” Sunoo says matter-of-factly.
Jungwon makes a noise of protest but it sounds lifeless to his own ears. “I’m not moping.”
Riki, his head pillowed on Sunoo’s knee, interjects, “You totally are.” He has on one of Sunoo’s face masks, actually partaking in the spa night activities. Three of his nails are painted black courtesy of the array of nail polish set aside. Riki points at Jungwon with the nail brush, “No offense hyung but you’re ruining the vibes.”
Jungwon frowns. “I’m sorry that my heartbreak is apparently not passing the vibe check. I can’t help it.”
Sunoo sighs again, exasperated. Jungwon hears the metal clinking of his neck massager being turned off. “Jungwonie, come on! If I didn’t care about you and your poor heart I wouldn’t have given up my shoulder for you to cry on for an hour. This is not about that. It’s been five months!”
Five months of having front-row seats to his own personal hell. Jungwon would have rather been eliminated on ILAND.
“It’s not like I can control it. Jongseong hyung is….” Jungwon trails off, feeling off-kilter at trying to explain what it’s like for the center of his world to be in love with someone else who isn’t him. For him, loving Jongseong was as easy as breathing. To cut that off would be to cut his own oxygen.
“We get it, Jay hyung is out of this world.” Riki snorts carelessly. He’s never been understated for these kinds of things.
Jungwon thinks he hears Sunoo hit Riki on the head but he can’t be too sure because when he sits up to look over, Riki is no longer lying in Sunoo’s lap and Sunoo is giving Jungwon one of his gentle but firm looks.
“It’s not about whether you can control it or not, we know a love like this can’t be erased in a blink of an eye. But Jungwon-ah, you have to at least try. You can’t be here day and night grieving a relationship that never even happened, and no I’m not blaming you for that either. You’re not the first person to have their one-sided feelings crushed, and you won’t be the last. But you have to get a grip,” Sunoo tells him bluntly.
Jungwon thinks calling the overwhelming tsunami in his stomach that threatens to engulf him whenever Jongseong is around mere feelings is a vast understatement.
He also thinks Sunoo would throw something at him if he tried to argue.
Jungwon hums, noncommittal. “ I hear you.” He flops back on Sunoo’s bed and imagines a world where this conversation never needed to happen and Jongseong was sitting pretty in his room and not Heeseung’s.
The aggrieved sigh that Sunoo lets out succeeds in making Jungwon smile only the tiniest bit.
At some point, when Jungwon called Jongseong hyung, it started to sound an awful lot like mine.
He never bothered to correct himself; never bothered to remind himself that Jongseong was in love with another man and even if he wasn’t—even if Heeseung wasn’t an option or choice or possibility, Jongseong would still be far away from him.
Moving on is hard when Jongseong beckons him at every waking moment.
Unfortunately for Sunoo, Jungwon would rather wallow in his pity and wait for the day Jongseong realizes the love he’s found himself in isn’t one that could fulfill him long term.
Later that night, after wishing Sunoo and Riki good night and leaving them to their own devices, Jungwon crawls under his covers and closes his eyes and thinks of that moment months ago where he told Jongseong he looked good.
If given the chance, he would have also told him about the raging monster sitting at the bottom of his stomach. Would have told him all about the jealousy and possessiveness churning down there. In spite of the possibility Jongseong would be not only heavily concerned, but reject him on the spot because Heeseung—who he’d spent so long mooning over, who’d never given him the time of day, who was only dating Jongseong now because he’d finally realized what he was missing out on for years—was waiting for him downstairs.
Jungwon would do a lot of things differently if given the chance.