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It didn’t take too long for both Namgil and Youngkwang to be all over each other during filming. Their chemistry altered and activated right away as if they had known each other for much longer before Trigger.
They had been surprising the staff involved in filming the show from the very first moment they met with how easily they fall into each other’s embrace. What could have been an awkward first introduction between a seasoned veteran and a younger co-star unfolded like old friends reuniting instead.
Namgil’s extroverted warmth and mischievous humour complemented Youngkwang’s more careful, reserved, and shy demeanour. Yet in that shyness, some staff whispered that it felt suspiciously transitory. They speculated that him being close with Namgil was in his natural habitat while his shy, awkward demeanour around Namgil was a fake out.
They felt like the shyness meeting Namgil for the first time was a bit forced as though trying to bury their long-hidden charms. Something like a practised pause before revealing more obviously how comfortable he already was around the older.
Not that they minded though since it wasn’t their style to stick their noses into someone’s private business. The actors in the industry already had hard enough time to adjust to public preferences, they didn’t need to make it worse. So, they just took whatever information that was publicly served about their dynamic.
During the whole filming period, Namgil’s and Youngkwang’s chemistry only grew stronger and more evident to everyone. You got to be completely blind to not notice.
Between their takes, Namgil’s laughter would blast across the set, too loud and impossible to ignore to the point the staff there had a hard time controlling him to stay still filming instead of straying away. In those moments, Youngkwang would often step in just perfectly timed, to tug the edges of his shirt or hushing him quietly, dragging him away to keep the older’s energy from spiralling into more distractions that might delay the schedule.
“He really handles Namgil better than anyone I had seen”, director Im Dongseok, who had worked with Namgil a couple times before, whispered as he watched Youngkwang gently herded Namgil back to his marked spot for a retake. The gesture was natural, affectionate and efficient. Like a tempo they didn’t need to learn.
Namgil on the other hand cared for Youngkwang a little bit too much on set to not notice. On sweltering afternoons, he would be the first one to shade Youngkwang or grab water bottles for him. Whenever Youngkwang’s long frame slumped somewhere in the corner, energy drained from filming and interacting with people, Namgil’s hands would find its way to the younger’s shoulders; massaging it tenderly while teasing him to lift up the mood. And then, Youngkwang’s enervation would slip away in his presence.
Even in small ordinary inconveniences such as too hot of a filming day, endless rehearsals and improvisations, or shooting locations that forced them to stretch until dusk and dawn—Namgil would still find his way to ease everything for Youngkwang.
By the middle of the filming period, not a day went by without a running commentary from the staff, “Look, they’re at it again” and some of them would laugh watching their antics.
It wasn’t unusual to find themselves acting like children playing in the playground, or siblings fighting between scenes, elbowing each other, sometimes hugging, sharing private jokes nobody seemed to understand. What stood out the most wasn’t even the playfulness but the sheer comfort in it. None of them were cautious about exploring boundaries as though it never existed in the first place. Youngkwang was oddly, extremely comfortable around Namgil. The kind that was above everything else. And a sight never witnessed between him and his other co-stars before. The natural, pure bond from deep within, not for PR stunts or promotions sake. Just them being themselves behind the scenes.
The peak of it came toward the end of the shooting, when Namgil decided to film his Roadblock Interview he had been doing for a while now for every project of his. He would play the overly enthusiastic interview host, holding microphone in hand, turning mock questions into serious sessions to the staff and co-actors there. It should have been a silly moment to wrap up the shooting but Youngkwang had been stealing sips of beer for courage that day, and the effect was striking.
Instead of keeping a professional distance for it to be filmed and aired to the public, Youngkwang stuck too close to Namgil as if he wanted everyone outside the set to know their strong rapport. Before Namgil even extended the mic to him, he circled around Namgil, looping his arms around Namgil’s smaller build in an exaggerated hug from behind, chin brushing the senior’s shoulder while swaying their bodies left and right.
When Namgil finally shoved the mic to him, he deliberately, affectionately held Namgil’s hand in place, fingers unnecessarily brushed around it and Namgil would hug him back unknowingly. Then, Youngkwang would grin like a fool, answering questions like a cheeky interviewee who refused to take things seriously. When it ended, Youngkwang snuggled and tickled Namgil and they burst out of more giggles and screams, running across the set. Truly like fools in love. Youngkwang would tease Namgil more, the kind that he never did to other people, and Namgil would do the same.
Of course, the scene unfolded in front of the staff and they would laugh, some shook their heads, others sneaking their cameras to snap the cute moments as private mementos from the special project. “They’re too much sometimes”, camera director Choi Yeongjae muttered to director Im Dongseok fondly, although no one was bothered to stop them.
By the final day of the filming, the atmosphere on set felt more like friends reluctant saying goodbye rather than colleagues parting ways. The director, sensing a need for a proper closure suggested they run a celebratory dinner and drinking party. An easy yes from everyone. They had worked incredibly hard and the bond between the crew got stronger.
For Namgil and Youngkwang though, it was just another excuse to stay side by side, surrounded by people who had seen more than they should have. Probably. And in that moment, none of them knew that the dinner, with endless rounds of drinks would test just how much more could remain hidden in plain sight.
The dinner had long gone past the point of polite toasts. Empty soju bottles and beer cans clinked on the crowded tables and the restaurant was warm with thick soju air, grilled meat, and laughter rising and falling between the staff. Youngkwang was surprisingly the loudest of them all when he was drunk. Namgil wasn’t the best at holding his drinks so he stayed sober. Or maybe, he was waiting to handle something more consequential that his drunken self wouldn’t be able to handle.
Youngkwang had chugged down probably 6, 7 cans of beer during the dinner. He held his drink well so it really took an unhealthy amount to get him wasted. And that night, he tried really hard to get drunk for unknown reasons. His usually polished composure had melted into something childlike, unguarded and loud. He laughed with his body, hands clapping at every joke, shoulders shaking as he tipped forward too dangerously close to the grill before Namgil’s steady hand tugged him back with an adept ease.
His eyes observed Youngkwang, ready to tackle any storms that might come out of the younger soon.
“Hyung-i~…”, Youngkwang suddenly whimpered, a little too intimate that diverted all of the staff ‘s attention to him and Namgil. Namgil inhaled deeply. Here we go…
Youngkwang faced him with drunken sincerity that was both endearing and terrifying, “Hyung-i! You’re…the main reason this shoot was fun! You know that right?”. He grinned wider, “You’re…”, he hiccupped before continuing, “…really the best person here!”. His voice was too chirpy.
Everyone perked up at the declaration with amusement. One of them chuckled a little bit more than others, “What’s this~ Youngkwang-ssi, are you trying to show your truest feelings now”. The random question made everyone giggle.
Another chimed in, “Careful Namgil-ssi, he might really confess to you for real tonight”. Another burst of laughter erupted; this time even worse than before.
Namgil just offered a wry smile, keeping his expression relaxed, unlike his usual self. He patted Youngkwang’s back to explain the display, “He’s always like this after a few drinks”.
Youngkwang didn’t like that. He swung his arm heavily on Namgil’s shoulders, leaning into him with all his weight, again too close, too intimate. “No, no, no hyung-i~ Don’t brush it off like that~ Everyone should know how great of a person you are. I mean like they do know. But they should know even more! You’re always taking care of me on set, making sure I eat and rest well, making sure I don’t mess up anything, listening to my improvisations and giving helpful insights…and…you also laugh at my jokes even if they’re not funny. That’s real friendship!”. He tapped his chest with his other hand. He always got more honest, chattier and energetic when drunk.
“More like real patience”, director Choi said lazily and the tables laughed again with inaudible whispers.
Namgil just subtly smile looking at Youngkwang, his brows partially raised. God please end me. Handling drunken Young-i is something I’m not strong for. Not in this room of people.
Drunk Youngkwang was nothing, he could always carry himself well even after getting very drunk. He was a pro drinker after all. But drunk Youngkwang around Namgil? That was where the real danger came.
Then, Youngkwang closed their distance even more until his cheeks touched Namgil’s. The older shifted just slightly, his fingers pinched Youngkwang’s thigh lightly, a silent signal nobody could see to rein Youngkwang.
He didn’t shove him away, didn’t push the arm or anything because truthfully, he loved the vehemence. He always did. But with so many eyes watching, every second felt like walking on thin ice. It might break and drown both of them—killed by the frostbite, trapped under the ice brink, unable to find opening to save themselves.
Youngkwang, oblivious to the warning, tousled Namgil’s hair, “Look at him, yeorobun~ Soooooo handsome~ Don’t you all agree? My hyung, here, has the perfect face perfect acting perfect personality perfect charisma perfect everything!”. He said cheerfully without any pause. Namgil swallowed his saliva. We’re so fucked.
Their cinematographer hollered, “Whoa whoa whoa! Youngkwang-ssi, don’t you think you like him a bit too much?”.
“I do. I love(sarang) him”, Youngkwang declared in a serious tone now. Short and concise. His both arms now wrapping Namgil’s with childlike exaggeration, clinging like he was afraid to fall. Except he wasn’t.
That silenced the table for a few seconds too long.
Namgil’s maniac laugh cut in smoothly after, as if it was nothing than a harmless repartee, “Ahahahaha I think he says that to everyone when he’s drunk. Please don’t take him too seriously”. And no. He didn’t say that to everyone. He guided Youngkwang’s arms down, holding his wrists briefly in a way that looked casual but carrying a firmness only Youngkwang would recognise. Finally.
One of the youngest staffs grinned, knowing the direction, “Still, he seems especially attached to you, Namgil-ssi”. More laughter and murmur rolled around though this time with a sharper edge of curiosity.
Namgil kept his expression relaxed, just the faintest smile curved his lips as he tilted Youngkwang’s chin up. “You’ll regret it in the next morning”, he said softly while steering him towards a glass of water to wash off a little bit of his intoxication.
Youngkwang pouted at the cup but still sipped it anyway. “See? Hyung-i, takes very good care of me~”, he mumbled, water slightly dripping down his chin. Namgil wiped it away with his thumb, a gesture so instinctive it slipped from Namgil’s initial vigilance. A few exchanged looks and smirked between the crew, murmurs half swallowed by the general chaos.
Youngkwang wasn’t finished. He leaned forward again, burying his face on Namgil’s shoulder. “I’m not going home without him…”, he announced as though challenging anyone to argue.
They elicited into another round of teasing.
“It looks like Namgil-ssi must take the role of a mother hen tonight”.
“Aigoo, poor Namgil-ssi has to carry him home!”.
At this point, Namgil didn’t care anymore. He accepted with a small head bow, smile unwavering, “I’ve carried worse”, he jested, gaining another laugh. Only Youngkwang felt a hand squeezing his knee under the table—another silent plea to tone it down. Namgil wasn't as chatty tonight after the young man got drunk. He needed to stay alert.
It took another 15 minutes of goodbyes and jokes before Namgil finally rose, wheedling Youngkwang up with him. “Thank you for the meal everyone. Good work”, Namgil said smoothly while adjusting Youngkwang’s arm around his shoulder as if it was simple as a second nature. And of course it was. His movements were too proficient, too fluid, like a man who had done this more times than anyone realised.
Everyone watched them leave, laughter following behind. Although the room swiftly filled with chatter again, the teasing glances lingered just long enough to remind Namgil how far the line had been crossed tonight.
As they stepped into the cool night air outside, Youngkwang sighed contentedly, leaning heavier onto Namgil, breath warm with beer. He murmured, quieter, “You’re always there to save my face, hyung-i”.
Namgil didn’t answer right away, just tightened his grip and led him to the waiting car. Finally, he exhaled, voice low enough only for Youngkwang to hear, “Of course. It’s my responsibility”. Then he pushed Youngkwang into the passenger’s seat and buckled his seatbelt securely.
The drive home was quiet except for the soft hum of the car and occasional sighs that came out from Youngkwang, heavy with drowsiness. He slumped against the seat; eyes heavy lidded, long legs sprawled carelessly until it stretched into Namgil’s space.
Namgil kept one hand steady on the wheel, another occasionally reached out to Youngkwang’s head to stop it from knocking the window every time the car hit a bump. It was a routine that had strangely became too familiar. Namgil playing chaffeur for Youngkwang who was drunk and pliant, silence wrapping them with comfort.
When they finally rolled into the underground parking of Youngkwang’s apartment building, Namgil parked the car, unbuckled their seatbelts and leaned over to nudge his shoulder. “We’re home Young-i. Let’s go upstairs before you completely dozed off. You know I’m not as strong as you to carry you bridal style if you pass out here”.
Instead of obediently complying, Youngkwang turned his face, catching the older's wrist with surprising accuracy for someone that wasted. His eyes glazed with dark intent, locked onto the older. “Not yet”, he whispered, voice husky, weighted. The alcohol still controlled him.
Before Namgil could react, Youngkwang leaned in, mouth finding his with a sudden, burning urgency. The kiss was messy, forceful, tasting alcohol and unspoken want but it hit Namgil hard. He tensed, his hand pressed Youngkwang’s chest trying to create space. “Young-i, stop it. This isn’t the place. People might walk into us”, he warned, breaking the kiss for a breath.
“It’s already 3? 4am? Nobody is gonna walk in”. Youngkwang kissed him again, harder this time, hands fisting in Namgil’s shirt, daring him to pull away. His tall frame pressed over the console, half clumsy, half possessive until Namgil was pinned back against his seat. His lips found Namgil’s jaw, then trailed lower, hot breath against his neck and chest. A groan escaped the older and his hand that was initially meant to push, curled into the fabric of Youngkwang’s shoulder instead.
When Youngkwang kissed him again, their kisses deepened, slow and hungry, tongue and teeth clashing. Namgil’s fingers slid up into Youngkwang’s soft hair, gripping tight when Youngkwang’s teeth grazed his lower lip. The younger’s hand roamed lower, tracing the lines of his chest before pressing against him with a heat that made the older’s breath hitched. Another hand pulled the back of Namgil’s head forward, deeper into him.
For a while, the world outside ceased to exist. The tinted car was theirs alone, brimmed with the sound of heavy breaths and the rustle of clothes. The line between resistance and surrender blurred, until Namgil finally broke away before Youngkwang got any further with point of no return, forehead pressed against one another, both panting.
“That’s enough Young-i, enough”, Namgil murmured, brushing the sweat damp long hair off Youngkwang’s temple. His voice shaky, more plea than command, “Not here and not like this Young-i”.
Youngkwang huffed lazily, dissatisfied but too dazed to argue further. His head dropped to Namgil’s shoulder, lips grazing his skin in a final, stubborn claim before his body sagged with sudden weariness. The alcohol had caught up at last.
Namgil exhaled relieved, steadying both of them. “Come on Young-i. Upstairs now”. He guided Youngkwang out of the car and up to the apartment naturally.
When they’re inside, Youngkwang was barely awake but still clinging stubbornly to Namgil. “Don’t leave, hyung-i”, he whispered as Namgil strode themselves to the bedroom.
“Of course I’m not going anywhere you genius”. Namgil paused for a while before he decided to turn to the bathroom instead. “You’ll hate me for now but you’ll feel worse if you don’t wash up first”.
“Shower? Ugh hyung-i~ I’m tiiireeed…”, Youngkwang whined softly.
“Just a quick one I promise. You’ll sleep better”, Namgil coaxed him, step by step, unbuttoning his shirt, slipping him out of it, then his trouser, careful not to rush.
Youngkwang moaned and tugged at Namgil’s shirt, “You too hyung-i... Don’t make me get wet alone in the cold morning…”.
Namgil chuckled under his breath, shaking his head, “So pampered~”. Namgil obliged. After all, he needed one too. He took off his own clothes and both naked bodies got into the shower.
Namgil kept the water warm to rinse off the smell of strong alcohol and sweat from them. Youngkwang let himself got handled by Namgil however the old man wanted. He was too tired to even properly protest anymore. Even all the heat from the car dissipated like it never existed.
The warmth from the shower softened the edges of exhaustion, steam clouding around them. Naked bodies brushed with slippery soap innocently. Whenever Youngkwang swayed, Namgil steadied his firm hands around his waist, repeating, “Just a little longer then you can sleep”.
Youngkwang barely lifted his arms under the warm spray, eyes closed, too drowsy. He just leaned heavily against Namgil’s chest, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, forehead rested on the shoulder.
“You’ll fall asleep standing Young-i”, Namgil teased while running a hand through his wet hair.
Youngkwang muffled, “Then…hold me up”.
So Namgil smiled and did. He steadied one arm around Youngkwang’s back while the other gently worked shampoo into his hair—fingers massaging his scalp in slow, soothing circles. Youngkwang let out a content sigh, consciousness drifting off closer to sleep.
“You like that huh?”, Namgil murmured, pleased to see the reaction.
“Feels good…you take care of me so well hyung-i…”, Youngkwang admitted, lips brushing faintly at Namgil’s collarbones.
Namgil gulped down his throat at the genuine words uttered. He rinsed his hair carefully to not let any trace of bubble remained before smoothing the water from his face. “Someone has to”, he said quietly, still heard by Youngkwang.
Youngkwang looked at Namgil, eyes barely opened before pressing a sleepy kiss on Namgil’s forehead. “Thank you hyung-i…”.
Namgil’s chest warmed. He curled his lips into a soft smirk, proud of his work tonight.
By the time they were done, Youngkwang was all but asleep on his feet. His long frame resting against Namgil’s back with every step made to the bedroom. Namgil dried him off carefully, towelled his hair and clothed him into loose hoodie and sweatpants. Couldn’t let him catch cold with thin clothes. When he finally tucked him into bed, Youngkwang’s breathing already slowed, face relaxed in his deep sleep.
Namgil lingered on Youngkwang’s face, brushing strands of damp hair from his forehead. A loving smile painted across his face, admiring this beauty. Then, he settled next to the young, stealing a rest from their hardwork too.
Late morning came with a soft light seeping through the curtains. Youngkwang tussled in the sheets with a groan. His mouth was dry, head and body heavy, feeling groggy. Before he could agonise the hangover, a faint scent of ginger tea sipped through his nostril.
On the bedside table, a tray of painkillers, honey ginger tea and a small bowl of simple chicken porridge was waiting. Next to him, Namgil was scrolling casually on his phone, hair slightly mussed. He averted his eyes to the younger and put his phone aside as soon as he noticed the movement. “You’re finally awake. Good morning princess~”, his lips curved a smirk.
Youngkwang groaned again, this time louder, pulling the blanket over his head.
“Come on Young-i, you can sleep again after you at least drink the tea first”, Namgil pulled down the blanket, meeting his eyes. They just stared at each other, eyes glistening with love.
“Hyung-i…did I…do anything stupid last night?”, he tried to recollect the memories from last night but everything seemed too hazy.
Namgil smirked even more, he anchored his chin in his hand, elbow folded on the bed. “Hmm. I don’t know. Let’s see. Hm, you kept spouting a lot of things hinting at our secret for everyone to hear during dinner, raising suspicions that I’m not sure if we could recover from it. Everyone seemed to realise it more or less. You made me bathe every edge of your body. Before that…you also almost stripped me in the parking lot, just a little bit closer for it to turn into an exhibitionist kink if anyone had walked into us”, Namgil had fun narrating and exaggerating the story a little bit.
Youngkwang’s eyes widened, ears burnt red. He twisted his body and buried his face in the pillow, “Ahhhhh hyung-i!!!! Why didn’t you stop me???”. What’s new? Youngkwang blaming Namgil for every wrong turn he took when he got drunk.
“I did though. Eventually. If not, we wouldn’t be here”. Namgil’s smile softened and voice gentler now, “But Young-i…if I’m being really honest…I like it. Well, maybe was afraid at first because of the prying eyes. But you were really honest and knew exactly what you wanted. The side that I don’t get to see too often. I wish you’d be more like it when you’re sober”.
Youngkwang peeked his eyes out. Nothing was said, just a pair of puppy eyes offered to the older. Namgil brushed his messy long hair, watching him tenderly.
“Get up. Eat a few spoons of the porridge, finish the drink and take some painkillers. It’ll flush the intoxication out of your head faster”, Namgil pulled the blanket away and made sure Youngkwang finished everything.
Namgil added after Youngkwang swallowed his pills, "And also you're banned from drinking for the whole week". His tone serious.
Youngkwang pouted, "Ah waeeee?".
"Yah. Do you wanna die from alcohol intoxication so badly? You literally had 10 cans last night Young-i. 10 cans for God's sake!", his voice raised, still pissed thinking about how much he drank last night.
Youngkwang flapped his eyelashes, not remembering he drank that much, or maybe he couldn't be bothered counting free beers. "Ah. Really? I drank that much?".
"Yeeee Young-i. You drank that much. Ah jinjja. I can't believe that you could do that much and not get hospitalised". Namgil daggered to Youngkwang before the younger laid back on the bed, cocooned himself without saying anything. Namgil just sighed.
Then, before Namgil could even spring up to bring the dishes to the kitchen, Youngkwang already pulled his waist, lying with him. “Don’t go hyung-i. Just leave it there. I could really use some cuddles now to rest better”.
Namgil, usually would have protested because leaving used dishes too long on the sink wasn’t hygienic, let alone in the bedroom. But this time, he thought he could coddle Youngkwang more. Just a bit more. And so he just hummed and let Youngkwang pulled him tighter in his arms.
They nestled under the blanket together. Youngkwang’s face buried in Namgil’s chest, arms wrapping the smaller body, and the older rested his chin on top of the younger’s head. Their legs fiddling under the covers. Namgil stroked his hair slowly, delicately, until Youngkwang was already drifting. He murmured under his breath that was also getting heavier with sleepiness, “Sleep well Young-i. We’ve earned the rest”. Then, he pressed a light kiss on the crown of his head before falling soundly asleep too.
In the ataraxy of the morning, almost reaching noon, they stayed glued like that—no cameras, no schedules, no restraints needed. Only pure affection and the gentle certainty of being exactly where they belonged.