Work Text:
1st June 2020
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Xiaojun suddenly stopped his fingers above the keyboard of his computer, his eyes widened. He lowered his gaming headphones, he controlled to have his microphone off and, spontaneously, without thinking before speaking, he turned and said:
“Excuse me, what?”
Xiaojun hadn’t the time to say more when a sound effect announced the death of his character – he knew it was Hendery, the impostor! – and, powerless, he stared at his blue avatar turning into a semitransparent ghost. Luckly he could still play and he had just a couple of tasks to complete to help the others to win the play and, really, he would have much preferred having the right concentration to play rather then finding himself in a strange situation like that one.
YangYang, on the other hand, didn’t answer right away. He took a moment to look at the guy in front of him, his dyed hair for the imminent comeback and his pale face, as expressive as his eyes, which now were analyzing him, waiting for an explanation.
“I think I’m in love with you” he repeated, talking as he had just denied the geocentric theory. Xiaojun really didn’t understand how he could be that calm and relaxed meanwhile saying those kinds of thing.
“You think?”
YangYang shrugged and, again, his plainness did nothing but floored Xiaojun even more, who thought it would have died from a heart attack in no longer than a few minutes.
“Yeah, I think” YangYang continued to say, now without headphones as well. His character died right after the beginning of the play – damn Kun, he had to pay for it! – and continuing to play seemed senseless to him. “I’m not really sure, but I think I like you.”
“And you’re telling me this while we’re playing Among Us?” asked Xiaojun, astonished.
“Um… yes?” stated the other guy, placing his cheek on the back of his hand “if I had told you during a League of Legends play, probably you would have been mad at me.”
“That is not the point-…!”
On both screens jumped the image of an imminent meeting requested from Sicheng, who immediately started to list the infinite raisons why one of the two impostors was without doubt Lucas and encouraging the little survivors to vote him to end the play. However, being dead, Xiaojun and YangYang couldn’t take part at the discussion, and so the first one took the opportunity to continue what they had left unsettled:
“Since when?” he had no need to specify what.
Even because he still hadn’t fully metabolized YangYang’s love confession.
“More or less three months. Maybe four. I don’t know precisely. One day it happened I looked at you more than usual, when we were practicing, and I felt butterflies in my stomach.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Yes, I did” YangYang replied, feeling in awe “what’s the matter?”
“You dare even ask?” said Xiaojun, feeling the blood rushing all the way through his brain “there’s our career in between, YangYang. You want to throw away years of hopes and mental breakdowns just because you “felt butterflies in my stomach”?”
“This has nothing to do with our career, ‘Jun. It has to do with us.”
“Us only exists if you talk about all seven” stated Xiaojun. His voice firm and low. He knew the rest of his friends were glued to the screen, but he still couldn’t risk someone overhearing them. “You and I are nothing and will never be something.”
YangYang bit his inner cheek. He began to think he had done things too fast and for a brief, very brief moment, he had the instinct of punching himself alone. He managed to stop himself before doing it.
He remained silent for a couple of seconds; his fingers wrapped around the headphone’s cable.
Xiaojun believed then the discussion was over. He had red cheeks, and perhaps his heart was now a bit broken because of the coldness of his own words but, really, could he do otherwise?
YangYang continued not to speak, he kept his gaze low and he seemed lost in an intimate contemplation. Yeah, Xiaojun told himself, discussion’s over. Yet…
“Do you like me, Xiaojun?”
Oh. It isn’t over at all.
Xiaojun returned with the gaze on his roommate, not really sure of what to say. Sometimes he forgot how stubborn YangYang could be. And he even forgot that, anyway, he always managed to catch the attention on what he wanted. That was an innate talent, and perhaps YangYang should have been a politician instead of an idol. Or a lawyer. He could have done anything, and he decided to confess to Xiaojun. What a strange situation.
“Uh?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t understand me.”
“… Forget about what happened” said Xiaojun after a while, returning with his headphones on “I’ve already told you what I think.”
And that was too much for YangYang. He could even reject him, stop talking to him and put work at the first place, but he could not ignore him so shamelessly. What did he think, that in that way his feelings would disappear?
YangYang got up from the chair, he approached Xiaojun and, with an insolence he didn’t even think he had, he took off his headphones, and he forced him to look at him, his cheeks now red as well.
“Answer me, Xiaojun” YangYang began to say, calm and resolute “do you like me?”
And Xiaojun… Xiaojun felt like dying. Laid bare. Exposed.
It took long enough – not even him could now how much – to hide his affect in YangYang’s rewards, to hide his sexuality to erase the word Love from his life, he was not meant to love and be loved, his heart just wasn’t able to accept such feeling. But now Love was standing right in front of him and was looking at him and was begging for an answer, whatever answer, Xiaojun had to speak and deny, deny until death, until he broke the thin thread which kept their souls connected together, even if…
“… Yes, it’s true, for sure you’re not indifferent to me, but-”
“Then be my boyfriend.”
Reckless, direct and without mincing words: Xiaojun had asked himself lots of times how he managed to lose his head over someone like that. But then he remembered YangYang was more – he was sweetness, passion and lightheartedness, his crystal-clear voice and his perfect half – and he understood his heart had chosen him because he was someone like that.
“It’ll end bad, you know right?”
“You can’t be so sure. Until proven otherwise, clairvoyance doesn’t exist.”
YangYang lightened the grip on the headphones, feeling suddenly calmer. His closeness to Xiaojun should have drove him mad, made him impossible to speak without shuttering and made his heart beat so fast until it exploded in his chest; lucky him, all those conjectures were fake, except for the last one.
“Let’s try, at least” he continued to say, now with a voice lower than he would have liked. Perhaps, deep inside, he was actually desperate. “Just for a month or two. Let’s see how it goes, if we make it, if we are meant for each other. Then, you’ll be free to reject me how many times you want.”
Xiaojun thought about it. He thought about it seriously, this time. But he said nothing.
YangYang was sure of his answer only when he invited him to sleep in the same bed.
3rd June 2024
YangYang had developed a certain charm, in the last four years.
His facial features had neither hardened nor softened, yet his whole being seemed more adult and mature. He had grown up a lot, gained always more fame and, despite the problems the group had to face, he had never lost his smile; every now and then he still acted childish – after all, wasn’t he the maknae? – but hated to be called such; during On My Youth promotions, their second full album, he had been flawless like never before, there had been a great improvement since Awaken The World, both in his appearance and his sing skills and his way to talk with the fans.
YangYang was, simply, handsome.
And he was his. For four years.
If they had told him that their relationship would last this long, Xiaojun would probably have burst out laughing.
Yet they were there, reading the comments of the fans under their last MV, and they were still together. YangYang sat on his legs, Xiaojun with his back comfortably laid on the sofa of their dorm’s living room.
Kun and Hendery were home and they could have seen them, but they didn’t care about it. Even if, since the others had found out about their relationship, neither Xiaojun or YangYang could state if things got easier or even worst.
For sure, the biggest problem was to hide it from the cameras. Especially when they argued and on the same day had the schedule full of work.
They could pretend as much as they wanted, yet the most affectionate fans would always notice something was off, in that moment. (Xiaojun still remembered how he had to sit through Kun’s never-ending lecture right after a fan-meeting, one so severe that they were about to argue. Luckly, they managed to clear themselves before the situation worsened.)
“I guess people liked the song” commented YangYang, continuing on scrolling YouTube’s comment section.
Xiaojun wrapped his arms around his hips and placed his chin on his shoulder, then nodded.
“The amount of comments asking to give them our love is embarrassing” he said ironically, a giggle escaping from his lips.
“So, you do know, that fans only talk about you? You egocentric!” YangYang chucked him under his chin, smiling “look: nine out of ten comments are just «Xiaojun give me your love».”
“What can I say? People love me.”
“Nobody loves you like I do.”
YangYang turned to him and kissed him, and then kissed him again and again, until he found himself on Xiaojun’s thighs, their warm breaths on their lips.
And as Xiaojun began to kiss his neck, touching him from under the black tank top, holding him close, YangYang swore he had felt butterflies in his stomach once again.
But maybe they never left.