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Beomgyu tries not to doze off as his makeup artist finishes up with the last few touches. It's another hectic day with a full schedule— their comeback is close so they've spent the whole morning practicing, and now that the evening is approaching, they have a Dior event to get to.
“All done!” She says, setting her brush aside. “You can call Taehyun over next.”
Beomgyu thanks her and steps out groggily. He almost walks into the door to the break room, but thankfully, Kai ends up swinging it open instead.
“Hyung,” Kai says. The younger is dressed and ready for the event too, though Beomgyu is envious of how much more awake he is.
Beomgyu grunts in response, too sleepy for a proper greeting. “Is Taehyunnie inside? The makeup noona is calling him over.”
Kai hums. “He’s fast asleep though. Lemme get him.”
They both walk in and Kai goes over to Taehyun’s sleeping body on the couch in the corner of the room. He watches as Kai gently shakes him, and Taehyun gets up like a zombie before walking out the door.
Yeonjun looks like he’s already had his makeup done too, and is obviously the the liveliest person in the room— he's preoccupied with singing an opera-like rendition of their latest single to a half-asleep Soobin, while their leader gets his hair done. Beomgyu suppresses a fond laugh at his silly hyung, and begins to debate if he should join in to annoy Soobin, or to go get a little more rest before they have to leave, considering how exhausted he is. Before he gets to decide though, one of their hair stylists calls out to Yeonjun, so he turns around to her and—
And every bit of sleepiness gets slapped out of Beomgyu’s body so viscerally that he forgets to breathe.
There's a huge opening at the back of Yeonjun’s shirt. Right from the hem to the top of the neckline, leaving almost his entire back exposed. And waist too, Beomgyu chokes when he steps a little to the side and gets a full view of it.
What the fuck.
WHAT THE FUCK? Yeonjun is beautiful enough from the front. Who the fuck decided to put him in this and make sure no one could take their eyes off of him from the back too?!
Yeonjun's face lights up when he notices Beomgyu by the door, and as soon as the stylist is done fixing a difficult lock of hair, the older decides to come over to him.
Oh fuck. No, no, no, Beomgyu isn’t mentally prepared to even make eye contact with him yet. He needs to run. He needs to change his name and move to a different country before—
Fuck. Too late. Yeonjun having ridiculously beautiful long legs also means it only takes him a few strides to get to him.
Yeonjun whistles, eyes giving him a once over. Beomgyu feels hot all of a sudden. “How come you're the only one in white today?”
“Uhh,” Beomgyu stammers eloquently. “Because— because they know I look good in any colour,” he manages an answer. “Obviously. How come you're the only one with—” he gestures vaguely in the air. A huge fucking back slit.
Yeonjun arches a very nice looking brow at him. “With what?”
“Y’know,” he gestures again, “A back like that!”
“Because I'm the only one that can pull off something this sexy,” Yeonjun sticks his tongue out at him like a little kid. Ugh. How is it possible for someone to be both attractive as hell and so annoyingly cute at the same time?
Beomgyu coughs. “Are you… going to be wearing this? Outside?” Please say no please say no please—
“Yes?” Beomgyu is going to jump off the nearest cliff. “Why else would I be wearing this?” Yeonjun gives him an odd look.
“Just— Just making sure.”
“Why are you asking me that?” Yeonjun's mouth downturns a little at its corners. “Do you think it looks weird on me?” He looks down at his shirt and starts to inspect himself.
You’d think someone as earth-shatteringly gorgeous as Yeonjun would know that he could make literally anything look good on himself, but somehow he doesn’t, and Beomgyu still can’t comprehend how that’s even possible. “No,” Beomgyu quickly says. “It’s— you look… nice,” he tapers into a quiet voice. He hopes no one else can hear their conversation, and he really hopes that no one looks their way because if he feels like this much of a mess right now, he definitely looks like one too.
“Nice,” Yeonjun repeats, blinking at him.
So nice, actually. So fucking nice I wish I was the only one that got to look at you like this. “Yeah,” Beomgyu croaks out. “It suits you.”
Yeonjun hums, lips curling up into a small smile. “Is that so?”
Beomgyu averts his eyes and stares at the wall instead. “I’m not giving out compliments for free here,” he huffs, trying to sound as nonchalant as he can. “What about me? How do I look?”
“You always look good,” Yeonjun says in a voice that can’t be anything but honest, and Beomgyu can physically feel the way his face goes several degrees hotter. “You know that.”
Alarm bells start ticking in Beomgyu’s head. The ones that go off when the hopeful part of his brain starts telling him he likes you, he might actually like you back, and Beomgyu has to quickly reign his few working brain cells back on track. “You’re right,” he clears his throat and looks at Yeonjun again. “But back to your outfit though.”
“What about it?”
“Well. You know I'm not a prude or anything but…" Yeonjun stares at him, clearly a little amused and curious at where the conversation is going. Beomgyu doesn't even know why the shirt is getting to him so bad when they've worn more revealing clothing on several occasions. They've all even showered together for fucks sake. “Ugh, I just—! Don't you think it’s a bit… You know!”
Yeonjun raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at his lips. “A bit what?”
Beomgyu squawks. Yeonjun knows. He knows exactly what he's doing! “UGH!” he groans and walks away from a cackling Yeonjun. “Nothing!”
It doesn’t matter. Beomgyu has no right to be thinking like this anyways. Who is he to make comments on what Yeonjun should or shouldn't wear? He's starting to sound like those self-entitled netizens online. And honestly, Beomgyu has tolerated more dangerous degrees of hotness from the older on several occasions. If he thinks about it, Yeonjun's current outfit is no match for their entire Puma promotions where Beomgyu was suffering for days, or even the time Yeonjun was preparing for his Guilty cover. He's trained himself for this.
So Beomgyu is fine. Yeonjun can wear whatever he wants, and it isn’t going to affect him. Because Beomgyu is a professional, and he doesn’t care about something as superficial as clothing and a bit of skin. He doesn't care at all.
Not.
One.
Bit.
Okay, he lied. Beomgyu cares so much he wants to die.
All the cameras begin to flash at once when Yeonjun passes by them, and the crowd of fans gathered at the event scream twice as crazy and loud for reasons so obvious that it makes Beomgyu want to catapult himself into a blackhole.
Oh they think they’re going crazy?! They have no idea what going crazy even means. They have absolutely no idea what it was like spending the last hour in a room with Yeonjun like this, especially not with a Yeonjun that has figured out he looks good and that he can use his power of hotness for evil. He knows the older was appearing in his field of vision way too often in the break room for it to be a mere coincidence, and he’s pretty sure Yeonjun sat beside him in the car on purpose too. The most evil act of all though, was when Yeonjun dropped himself onto Beomgyu's lap while he was trying to get some shut-eye, and Beomgyu is sure he would’ve combust into flames if their manager hadn’t come in three seconds later to announce that it was time to leave.
If Yeonjun hasn't figured out Beomgyu's feelings for him, he must've at least noticed how terribly attracted Beomgyu is to him by now. Right? Why else would he be acting like this?
Though now, Beomgyu doesn’t know if he wishes he was standing behind Yeonjun, or if he’s thankful that he’s standing in front of him as they walk the carpet so he can actually focus on the event instead.
…Wait.
Beomgyu snaps his head to look behind him, and sure enough, there Taehyun is, a step behind Yeonjun. Beomgyu feels a little pathetic when he has to suppress the whine that almost slips past his lips. Should he be jealous or should he be glad that Taehyun is there to block Yeonjun from a hundred more eyes?
“–gyu-ssi. Beomgyu-ssi? A voice calls out to him and Beomgyu startles back to the front. “Can you move a little more to the right?” One of the cameramen asks.
Beomgyu takes a quick glance around him and finds his members already posing for a picture. Fuck. Pull yourself together, Choi Beomgyu! He quickly shuffles to the right and looks into the camera, hoping no one else has noticed how out of it he is. All because of one overly-pretty man.
Ugh. Younger Beomgyu knew this was going to happen the moment he found out they were both going to be a part of the same group. He knew, and so he’d promised himself to keep his feelings in check all those years ago. Younger Beomgyu would be giving him the biggest stink eye if he saw how terribly he’s failing at that right now. But then again, younger Beomgyu also would’ve passed out the moment he saw the jaw-droppingly beautiful twenty-five year old Yeonjun dressed like this, so maybe older Beomgyu should give himself a pat on the back for still maintaining consciousness at all.
A pat on the back.
Fuck, he really needs to stop thinking of backs. He needs another word to replace it. Something so unsexy that it clears his head every time he says it;
- …Soobin? No, that would just be confusing when their leader is right here with him. He also doesn’t want to get whacked for it if Soobin ever finds out one day, because that man knows his thoughts way too well to not be a mind reader.
- Bang PD? Kinda ew, and just disrespectful to Yeonjun’s entire being.
- Toto? Strange, but the best option so far.
Hmm, nothing fits quite right. That’s the only thing on his mind as they pose for a few more pictures, and Beomgyu thanks the heavens that there are so many variations of heart poses they can do while he tries to get his brain back to normal. By the time they’re directed to go inside though, he still hasn’t come up with a name replacement yet, his head is nowhere near functional enough to go through an entire professional event, and now he kind of misses his little parrot.
In short: He's a walking disaster.
There are a couple fans in the corner and Yeonjun pauses to wave at them before heading inside, so Beomgyu does too. As soon as Yeonjun passes by him though, he quickly follows behind his hyung, successfully switching places with Taehyun. Beomgyu did not plan for this, but he wants to pretend he did so he can feel smart at least once today. It's a precarious position to be in though, with how Beomgyu now has front row seats to the gorgeous view of Yeonjun's back, and the danger only doubles when he notices the prettiest little beauty mark beside Yeonjun’s shoulder blade, and Beomgyu trips on his feet and almost faceplants to the ground.
What in the everliving fuck. He snaps his eyes away and shakes his head vigorously, trying to get rid of the images that keep popping into his head— of getting to trace his fingers down the length of Yeonjun’s spine, of getting to press a kiss to the mark on his skin, of getting to—
He slaps himself mentally. Fuck, not the time, Beomgyu, not the time! Fantasize once you're home!
“Beomgyu-yah!” Yeonjun suddenly calls out to him, “Where are you going?”
Beomgyu halts and looks up. The rest of the members are standing in a corner, staring at him. “Uhhh… I was just– heading to the bathroom! But I don’t need to go anymore. What were we doing again?”
Soobin sighs and drags him back to the group like a hen bringing its lost, half-deranged chick back home. “They told us to wait here for a few minutes,” Soobin explains, “One of the creative directors wants to take a photo with all the visitors, so we’re waiting for a bit.”
“Oh,” Beomgyu says dumbly. When he meets Yeonjun’s eyes, the older is giving him a concerned look. He doesn’t say anything to him, but Yeonjun links his arm through Beomgyu’s as if to prevent him from wandering off again. It only makes Beomgyu actually want to run though, because Yeonjun is warm, and smells so nice, and aside from the physical, emotional and psychological calamity that is the huge open back top, his hyung simply looks devastatingly ethereal today.
Beomgyu's saviour comes a minute later, in the form of a man in a funky little hat, so Yeonjun has to take a step away from him to get the picture taken. Beomgyu can’t decide if he’s thankful for it or if he misses having Yeonjun close, but he doesn’t get the time to dwell on it because right after that they’re being ushered around the exhibit to actually have a look at the collection while getting several more pictures taken.
This at least, does help him get his mind off of The Yeonjun Problem for a little while. Beomgyu enjoys looking at the pieces like they’re little works of art, but his interest in fashion doesn’t go very deep, especially when they’re this expensive or when the style is a little too adventurous in comparison to his usual. He enjoys clothes in a more casual sense; things that make him feel comfy or confident, or just more himself.
Yeonjun, though, seems to have his eyes glued to every piece of clothing he sees, stopping to take his time and admire each and every one of them. At one point, the other members are so far ahead that Beomgyu decides to walk back to Yeonjun instead.
The older is looking up at a dark scarlet gown, the long satin draping across the floor like a waterfall. The top half is covered with black beaded embroidery, wrapping around the material at the chest and waist into a corset-like figure. Beomgyu had walked past it earlier, but somehow, looking up at it with Yeonjun now, it looks aeons more beautiful than it did the first time.
“Think it’ll look good on me?” Yeonjun asks.
Beomgyu glances to his left and meets his hyung’s gaze. There’s an almost teasing lilt to his voice, and Beomgyu can’t tell if it’s a serious question or if he’s just trying to get a reaction out of him. Beomgyu answers honestly anyways. “Of course it would. Almost looks your size, actually. Like it was made for you.”
Yeonjun blinks, a little wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, before he clears his throat and looks away. “Don’t think our company would let us wear something like this yet though.”
“We can raid the place once everyone leaves,” Beomgyu bumps their shoulders together, “Then you can at least try it on. If we get caught, we can just say we’re models that got a little lost. We already look the part.”
Yeonjun lets out a lovely little laugh at that, rolling his eyes in that fond way he does. Beomgyu doesn’t know what it is about it that clogs up his throat. Like this, under the bright lighting of the exhibit and the soft shadows falling over his features, Yeonjun looks like an art piece, crafted to perfection by a magician’s hands. While everyone has been admiring the clothes around them, Beomgyu has barely been able to take his eyes off of the man beside him. He hopes, selfishly, that at least this image of Yeonjun is one that only he gets to see.
“Hyung,” Beomgyu croaks out, voice soft.
“Hm?” Yeonjun’s eyes flicker to him.
“Earlier today. When you asked me why I—”
He’s interrupted by a dissonant sound from the speaker. Beomgyu winces as an announcement starts with a man greeting and thanking everyone. It sounds like the beginnings of a speech.
Yeonjun and him share a look, before the older pulls him along to follow the crowd, moving to gather at the center of the room. Beomgyu spots the representing director of the exhibition speaking in the middle, and he breathes out a sigh of relief when he catches a glimpse of their other members at the other end of the room.
Beomgyu zones out almost immediately though, sighing. What was he going to say to Yeonjun? The honesty had taken over him for a moment, almost pulling out the words he’s supposed to have buried down. Falling for a member is one thing, but admitting it to them? It's dumb and messy. Yeonjun must know it's dumb and messy too.
God, Beomgyu wouldn't be in the middle of this crisis right now if it weren't for the stupid shirt. If it weren’t for stupidly beautiful Yeonjun, and his stupidly pretty back. That’s right in front of him.
Beomgyu startles from the shock, clutching his heart. When did Yeonjun get in front of him? Not even the scariest of horror games have jump-scared him this bad.
Oh god, he’s so beautiful. The hottest person he’s laid eyes on. Beomgyu should just— avert his eyes. He should just. Not look. Not think about it.
God, what is he? A Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time? This is embarrassing. Maybe he should look. You know, like— Exposure therapy. That’s a thing, right? He glances back at Yeonjun in front of him, at the elegant way the black material stretches and drapes down his shoulders, at the gentle curves and dips of his back, and Beomgyu instantly calls himself a dumbass. Who is he kidding? He’s lived with Yeonjun for over eight years now, and all that exposure has only made him need more therapy than he did at the beginning.
And so, Beomgyu resigns to his fate of standing behind Yeonjun, descending into insanity and mentally screaming into oblivion when he thinks of how many pictures there must be of Yeonjun wearing this now. After having their eyes blessed, they better at least be writing essays and waxing poetry about him. They better be using every pretty word in the dictionary for him, until they're hitting the character limit in all their posts. That would make up for it, he thinks, since it would make Yeonjun happy.
(Ah, Beomgyu pauses for a moment. If Yeonjun likes the compliments and attention... then surely his hyung wouldn’t mind if Beomgyu admired him a little too. Right? After today, he’s probably never going to see Yeonjun in this again anyways. So just… maybe just for today.
Maybe just for today, Beomgyu can let himself look at Yeonjun, and not force himself to pretend that he doesn’t want him. Maybe just for today, he can…)
“Hyung?” His voice is a whisper, hand coming up to press his fingers to the dip of Yeonjun's spine. Yeonjun jolts a little at that, and it’s only when the older turns his head back to look at him, that Beomgyu realises what he’s done. He snatches his hand back at a lightning speed. “I—” Beomgyu sputters. “Sorry, I just—”
Yeonjun’s cheeks are flushed. “Your hands are cold,” he says, just loud enough to be heard over the other voices, before he turns his head back to the front. “And wearing this doesn’t help.”
Oh. The whole place is air conditioned. It must be cold, wearing an outfit like this for so long in here. “Sorry,” he says, “I didn’t realise.”
Yeonjun lets out a soft laugh. “It’s fine. All in the name of fashion, right?”
Beomgyu doesn’t know where the bout of confidence comes from— He takes a step closer to the older, close enough for his chest to press to Yeonjun's back. He tries not to think about the way Yeonjun intakes a sharp breath, or the way he relaxes and leans back into him a moment later.
Beomgyu’s skin burns everywhere Yeonjun is pressed against him, heat flooding through his veins. It’s not like they’ve never done this before. They’re both physically affectionate, and he’s lost count of how often they’ve hugged, or even cuddled while they slept. But there’s just something about tonight that has gotten all his feelings in a frenzy. “Is this better?” He asks in a whisper. “Warmer?”
It takes a few moments for Yeonjun to reply with a quiet hum under his breath. Beomgyu can’t help but notice how pink his hyung’s ears have gone too, and the hopeful little voice in his head is back.
It’s nice. Getting to have Yeonjun like this, even for just a moment, is so nice. He hooks his head over his hyung’s shoulder, his eyes instinctively fluttering shut, and it's so easy like this, to forget everything else, to forget where they are and who they’re supposed to be.
It's easy to forget that he's not supposed to be in love.
“Beomgyu-yah.” Yeonjun's voice sounds like honey amongst all the noise, a mere whisper. Like he wants his words to stay in this little bubble of theirs too.
“Hm?”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” Beomgyu’s eyes blink open. “Why are you asking?”
“Nothing, just… It’s like your head has been stuck somewhere else the whole night, that’s all.”
“Ah,” he breathes out. “I just…”
"You know you can tell hyung anything, right?"
God, he's so sweet. But that's the thing— he can't. And Beomgyu doesn’t know what to say when he can't tell Yeonjun the truth. That he’s tired? They all are. “I guess... I guess I have been a little out of it.”
The speech ends then, and the crowd gives the man a loud round of applause. And then Yeonjun turns around to look at him as the people around them begin to disperse, eyes flitting across his features with that intense, concerned look on his face again. “Something’s wrong,” Yeonjun says all too knowingly.
“I…” Is something wrong? Looking at Yeonjun makes his chest hurt all of a sudden.
From the corner of his eye, Beomgyu can see their other members walking towards them with their manager in tow, but Yeonjun doesn't look away from him, even for a moment.
All of Beomgyu’s words are lodged in his throat. “Bathroom,” he manages to choke out, spinning on his heel and heading in the other direction.
“Wait— Beomgyu—”
Beomgyu isn't even sure if he's going the right way, so he's grateful when he spots the sign for the restrooms with an arrow pointing to the left. If he had looked at Yeonjun for even a second longer, he swears he would've crumbled under his hyung’s gaze and given in with a too honest answer.
What he doesn't expect though, is to be tugged aside right as he's about to enter the restroom, and before he knows it, he's staring back at Yeonjun again in the corridor.
Yeonjun opens his mouth, but Beomgyu doesn't let him speak. “As much as I appreciate your concern hyung, I already live with you guys twenty-four seven, so I would at least like to pee in peace and have a minute of alone time in the bathroom. So if you could please just tell the others that I—”
Yeonjun shuts him up with a hand over his mouth. “You tell me you're feeling out of it and then walk away expecting me not to worry? I know this is just an excuse for you to—”
As much as Beomgyu loves to listen to Yeonjun talk, the younger is very much distracted by a passerby. A passerby whose eyes pause on Yeonjun— Yeonjun's back specifically, staring at him like they're hypnotized, and Beomgyu fucking loses it.
Beomgyu pulls the older’s hand off of him. “Okay, you know what? Take my jacket,” Beomgyu's hands work before his brain does, already unbuttoning the jacket he's wearing.
Yeonjun sputters, eyes quickly glancing around to see if anyone else is about before dragging him into the restroom.
Beomgyu follows, pulling his jacket off in the meantime and handing it to Yeonjun once they're inside. Fortunately, it looks like they're alone.
“Oh,” Yeonjun breathes out a sigh of relief. “You’re wearing something underneath.”
“Of course I am,” Beomgyu gives him an odd look. “Here, take it.”
Wordlessly, Yeonjun takes the jacket and hangs it on his arm. “Okay... But why? Why are you giving me this?”
“Because,” Beomgyu gestures, trying to find his words, “Uh, because you said you were cold earlier! Yup, that's exactly why I'm—”
“Beomgyu,” he scolds gently, his shoulders drooping a little.
God. “Don't you already know why?” Beomgyu groans and Yeonjun gives him a questioning look. “You already know what I was trying to tell you back when we were in the break room, don't you? So don't you already know how upset I am that other people get to—” he cuts himself off, feeling ridiculous at having to admit it out loud. Beomgyu isn't even dating him. What right does he even have to be jealous?
Yeonjun stares at him incredulously. “I… I don't want to misunderstand,” he says after a moment.
Beomgyu swallows. “Don’t want to misunderstand what?”
A beat, then Yeonjun takes a step closer to him, almost cautious. “That this is because of me?”
Beomgyu's mouth clamps shut, wide eyed. There's barely any space between them like this. Where does he even look?
Yeonjun's gaze flickers over his face, and Beomgyu isn't sure if he imagines the way it drops to his mouth for a moment, before it's back up just as quickly. “Because you like how I look…?”
“Hyung…” Beomgyu’s face heats up. He averts his gaze to the wall, to the floor, anywhere else that isn't Yeonjun.
“Are you jealous?” His hyung steps even closer, and Beomgyu’s breath stills. Too close. If Beomgyu turned his head, their noses would bump into each other. His heart is beating so loud in his ears that it would worry him if all this wasn't already on his mind. And the question— He can't answer it. He's too scared to answer it, because if Yeonjun doesn't feel the same, it'll come with too many consequences he isn't ready for.
When Beomgyu doesn't respond though, he expects the older to keep prying. He expects to be demanded for an answer. Instead, Yeonjun's voice only dips into something quiet, something shaky and unsure at the edges. “Please say yes.”
...Huh?
For a moment, Beomgyu forgets to breathe. Slowly, he turns his head back to Yeonjun to stare at him in disbelief.
There's something too honest laced into Yeonjun's features. Soft, and open, and a little vulnerable even. “Please say yes,” Yeonjun says again, a little louder this time. “Or I'm going to feel like an idiot for getting my hopes up.”
What?
Beomgyu can only look at him, searching Yeonjun's face for an answer, feeling something in his chest unravel. He isn't even sure if he heard that right. He isn't even sure if Yeonjun means that in the way Beomgyu wants him to, but— but Beomgyu told himself he didn't have to pretend today, didn't he?
And today, Yeonjun is in front of him, so lovely, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful, and everything Beomgyu has ever wanted.
So today, Beomgyu finally lets himself lean in and kisses him.
Yeonjun makes the loveliest sound of surprise against his mouth, and then all too quickly, Beomgyu is pulling away, hoping he hadn't crossed a line.
He clearly didn’t have to worry though, because Yeonjun chases his mouth, and the next thing he knows the older is kissing him back, warm and lingering, and everything Beomgyu has ever dreamed of. His heart soars, tripping and staggering on the way up, not knowing how to handle anything this overwhelming. Beomgyu can only press even closer, tilting his head into the kiss, wanting more, wanting anything Yeonjun will give him.
Yeonjun responds just as eagerly, parting his lips as his hands come up to bury themselves into his hair, and Beomgyu stumbles back a little, his head hitting against the door with a soft thump.
“Wait,” Yeonjun pulls back all of a sudden, chest heaving. “What about tomorrow?”
Beomgyu blinks at him, clueless. “Huh?” What is he talking about?
“What about tomorrow,” Yeonjun licks his lips and swallows, “When I'm not wearing this anymore? Like, would you still want me or…?”
It's the most ridiculous question Beomgyu could have ever expected, but Yeonjun looks completely serious, brows furrowed. Worried, even.
God, he thinks, god, if only he knew. “You're so silly,” Beomgyu groans, pulling him down to kiss him again.
“Hey, it's a genuine question—” Yeonjun holds the younger's hands in place and leans back to stop him. “I just— I want to know if this isn't just a one time thing to you, or if—”
“Eighteen year old Yeonjun did not have this shirt on everytime I wanted to kiss him, hyung.”
“What is that even supposed to—” Yeonjun pauses and stares at him. Several moments pass, and Beomgyu adores the way he can see the realisation slowly dawning onto his features, before Yeonjun finally breathes out a quite oh. The prettiest flush blooms up to his ears. “Really?” He croaks out in disbelief.
The admission makes Beomgyu feel the slightest bit too self-conscious. “You know me," Beomgyu says in a quiet voice, averting his eyes."Do you really think I'm the type that could suddenly have the hots for someone just because of what they're wearing?"
"No," he coughs, "I just...”
"I've felt this way for years now,” Beomgyu finally admits. “But you're not entirely wrong because your fit is driving me crazier than usual,” he mumbles.
At that, Yeonjun finally breaks into an incredulous laugh, even falling forwards with it, pressing his forehead to Beomgyu's shoulder.
Beomgyu makes a sound in his throat. “I've been going insane and you're laughing.” That only gets Yeonjun laughing harder, and he only stops and pulls away when Beomgyu whines out a pleading hyung from how embarrassed he's starting to get. And it's terrible, how enamoured Beomgyu is, because instead of making a fuss about Yeonjun laughing at him like he wants to, Beomgyu can only think of how lovely happiness looks on him.
Yeonjun cups his cheeks and lets out a relieved sigh. “For someone who’s going crazy from it though, you aren't doing much about it.”
Beomgyu gives him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
Yeonjun takes his arms and tugs them around his waist, bringing their bodies closer together.
“Uhm,” Beomgyu sputters. "Hyung—"
“Can I kiss you again?”
“You're the one that pulled away the first time,” Beomgyu grumbles.
"So is that a yes?" Yeonjun laughs again and leans in when Beomgyu follows it up with a barely audible yes under his breath.
When Yeonjun kisses him this time, his lips are already parted, and Beomgyu's body feels like it's been lighted aflame as he licks into the heat of his hyung’s mouth.
Yeonjun lets him bring his hands up from his waist, and Beomgyu makes a pleased sound as they slide across the warm and bare skin of the older's back. He runs his fingers down the dip of Yeonjun's spine like he so badly wanted to earlier, slow and deliberate, and he's rewarded with the way Yeonjun shivers against him, a small, gratified sound slipping into his mouth. Oh, he thinks. He was right when he thought Yeonjun would make the prettiest sounds.
And Beomgyu can't help but bask in the knowledge that even once they walk out of here and Yeonjun has several dozen eyes on him again, Beomgyu will be the only one in the room that has gotten to touch him like this.
He melts like this, pressed against the door, slowly losing the breath in his lungs as Yeonjun tilts his face up and kisses him, again and agai—
“Is this locked?” A voice suddenly comes from outside, and they both scramble apart from each other. Fuck. Yeonjun keeps a hand pressed against the door and shoves Beomgyu towards the stalls. Beomgyu sprints inside the closest one and locks himself in.
“Sorry,” Yeonjun’s voice comes from outside, “I was just— standing at the door. Waiting for my friend. Didn't realise I was blocking it!” He chuckles nervously.
“All good,” he hears the stranger say.
The door creaks a couple times, and then it's quiet. Beomgyu’s heart is about to burst out of his chest. He… He just kissed Choi Yeonjun. And Choi Yeonjun kissed him back.
What the fuck?
He presses his hands to his face and feels his cheeks burn against his palms. Oh god. He must look like a wreck. He gives himself a minute— several minutes to calm down, before he steps out of the stall.
Yeonjun is nowhere to be seen.
He tries to ignore the way his heart sinks a little, quickly going to the sink to wash his hands and fix his hair. It's fine. They've been making the others wait too long as it is. Yeonjun must've gone back to them.
The moment he steps out of the restroom though, he finds Yeonjun standing there, waiting. Beomgyu has to catch his heart before it breaks out of his ribcage and runs towards him. “Hyung,” he breathes.
Yeonjun clears his throat. “The others are probably waiting for us.”
Beomgyu doesn't respond to that. Instead, he stares at him and blurts out a “You're wearing my jacket,” like an idiot.
Yeonjun’s laugh comes out almost shy. “Didn't you want me to wear it?”
“Yeah, but—” he makes a sound in his throat. “You’re— you should wear whatever you want. However you want to. Don't listen to me, I'm just being dramatic.”
Yeonjun hums, almost a little doubtfully. “You don't mind if I take it off then?”
I mind so bad, the voice in his head groans pathetically. “I don't mind,” he croaks out. It's not entirely untrue at least. Beomgyu has always loved how confidently Yeonjun embodies everything he wears.
Yeonjun bites back a smile and pulls the jacket off. Then the older whips his head to the left and right for a quick moment, before he takes a step forward and presses a kiss to Beomgyu's cheek.
Before Beomgyu can even register what’s happening, Yeonjun pulls back. “Only because I really like how it looks on you,” Yeonjun says, draping the jacket over Beomgyu's shoulders. “So I'd rather get to see you in it.”
Beomgyu stares back at him, stunned.
“Also, you used to be better at lying,” Yeonjun laughs fondly, before he links their arms together and drags him along to the front.
“Huh?” He croaks out, “Wait— I wasn't lying.”
“Oh, don't even bother, Beoms,” Yeonjun laughs, “Give your hyung some credit for how well he knows you, hm? You're not the only one that spent the whole day staring at someone else.”
Beomgyu swallows. Yeonjun has been looking at him too? Could he have been looking, every time Beomgyu was trying not to stare so much? “Hyung,” he croaks out. “Hyung, I really like you.” It's not an I love you that'd be more accurate to the depth of his feelings, and perhaps there's a better time and place to say this. But Beomgyu can't hold back the words right now, and they're a long time coming as it is.
At that, Yeonjun pauses in step. He takes a deep breath and turns to look at him, expression all too serious. “Don't,” he whines, voice strained. “I can't kiss you out here.”
Beomgyu covers a giddy smile behind his hand and lets Yeonjun pull him along again. “When we get back then?”
“When we get back.”
“...Can I take a picture of you in this too? One that you won't post anywhere else?”
Yeonjun eyes him with a look Beomgyu can't really decipher, and then he laughs again, shaking his head. “Only if I get to take one of you too.”
“Deal! I knew you were just as obsessed with me.”
“Shut up,” Yeonjun shoves him aside, voice going an octave higher.
“What was it you said earlier? That you really like how my jacket looks on me? That I wasn't the only one that spent the day staring—”
That's how they meet back up with the others; With Beomgyu trapped in an annoyed Yeonjun's aggressive headlock, after Beomgyu had run his mouth a bit too much. He knows the older isn't actually angry or annoyed though, that it's simply how he masks his embarrassment (so Beomgyu will simply have to demand a kiss (or several) as an apology for this later).
They manage to get away with making the others wait by telling them Beomgyu had an upset stomach. He doesn't know if they manage to fool Kai and Taehyun who are both pretty perceptive too, but Soobin, ever the mind reader, only narrows his eyes and gives him a look that means you're telling me the actual story once we're home. Having a best friend in your group can be a little scary sometimes (though Beomgyu wouldn't have it any other way).
More importantly, it's easier getting through the remainder of the night after that, though Yeonjun does have to remind him not to look like a feral raccoon every time someone so much as touches him or looks at his back for a second too long. Beomgyu still has a bone to pick with whoever made the decision to put Yeonjun in this.
In the end though, it's not a bad day.
Especially once they've showered and changed into their own warm clothing back home, and Yeonjun is sweet and bare-faced as he kisses all his lost sanity back into him.
It's not a bad day at all.