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When Seungcheol lets himself into the apartment, there’s a low light left on in the hallway. He slips his shoes off and kicks them sloppily onto the mat, but he’ll be off again early in the morning anyway. The thought makes the throbbing in his head spike worse, so he casts it out of his mind for now. He’ll face it when his alarm goes off in a few hours. Right now, he just wants to sleep.
It’s not horribly late, but his exhaustion makes him feel like it is. And anyway, it’s late enough that he’s surprised when he walks into Jeonghan’s bedroom and finds him awake, half leaning up against the headboard and scrolling on his phone in the dim light of the lamp.
“Jeonghan-ah?” Seungcheol says. The sound of his own voice rattles his headache, and he’s grateful the light is so dim. The harsh lighting of the practice room had been making him nauseous by the time he left the company building.
Seungcheol wants, very acutely, nothing more than to collapse on the bed and become swallowed by Jeonghan’s warmth.
“Why are you awake?” he asks instead, forcibly reminding himself that he needs to change out of his dirty practice clothes before he lies down anywhere.
“Hmm?” Jeonghan says, setting his phone down in his lap. “Here, that’s for you.” He points to a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the opposite bedside table. Seungcheol’s side.
Oh. Jeonghan waited up for him. Seungcheol had texted him a little while ago, complaining about the headache pounding at his skull, from the long hours of dance rehearsal for their tour that started in just a few weeks. From the loud music echoing off the walls, from learning and relearning performances anew to make up for the slowly increasing number of missing members.
:( Seungcheollie is working too hard~ Seungcheol had gotten in response. Then, Are you drinking enough water? Then, Come over when you’re done.
The promise of going home to Jeonghan’s apartment had been a balm to the last of a difficult rehearsal, even if Seungcheol knew he’d arrive after Jeonghan was asleep. Seungcheol has been so busy lately, hardly able to catch a full night’s sleep at all. Often he simply goes home and crashes and then wakes up and goes right back to work. He hates how his inconsistent schedule sometimes interferes with Jeonghan’s routine. Jeonghan has been good at getting enough sleep this last year.
But most often, Jeonghan tells him to just come anyway. Even if Jeonghan is asleep when he gets there. Even if Seungcheol is lost in his own exhausted slumber when Jeonghan wakes up to leave for work. They make do, and it’s better than being apart. Seungcheol always sleeps better with Jeonghan beside him.
It’s not that Jeonghan never waits up for him. Of course he does. This shouldn’t be any different. But as Seungcheol takes in the sight of him, snug in bed in one of Seungcheol’s old t-shirts he’d stolen forever ago, a familiar bracelet that’s always gleaming on his wrist, with medicine waiting to cure Seungcheol’s dumb headache, Seungcheol is filled with a warmth so intense he feels the weight of it well up in his throat.
“Seungcheol-ah,” Jeonghan says, tilting his head a little. “You should wash up. Then come to bed.”
Seungcheol just nods, then goes into the connecting bathroom. He finds a pair of pajama pants folded on the counter for him. His heart, somehow, swells even more. So much that it stings a little, like it’s straining at his ribcage.
He quickly changes and washes up, trying to ignore the painful knot in his temple, and then goes back to Jeonghan. He downs a few painkillers, then finishes the water at Jeonghan’s command.
“You need to stay hydrated,” Jeonghan says as Seungcheol finally slips under the sheets beside him. Jeonghan is still propped up against the headboard. Seungcheol presses in close to him, burying his face in Jeonghan’s side. He welcomes the blessed darkness, breathes in the fresh scent of him. Jeonghan smells clean, freshly showered and a little floral. The t-shirt he’s wearing is softer than Seungcheol remembers it being than when it was his. He doesn’t want it back, ever.
“Ah, my Seungcheollie, working so hard,” Jeonghan says, sing-song in a way that’s only for him. Jeonghan coos with everyone, but Seungcheol has always caught onto the difference when it comes to him, since far before they were ever even together. For a time, he wondered if he had only been hearing what he’d wanted to hear. But he wasn’t. Now, Seungcheol has no doubt that he’s special.
He feels Jeonghan’s fingers touch the top of his head, carding through the shorter strands he has these days. “All these rehearsals on top of your unit schedules. Does Mingyu run a tight ship?”
Seungcheol huffs out a laugh. Mingyu is no more diligent than he is, which means they both run a tight ship together. It’s been fun, and it’s been worth it to see their vision come together, but that also means it has been exhausting. Tonight, that exhaustion presses tight against the inside of his skull.
He feels Jeonghan lean away for a moment, only to hear the click of the lamp being switched off, and then he slides down the headboard and settles beside Seungcheol. Jeonghan moves his body close against his, so warm from being beneath the blankets. He shifts a little, and then Seungcheol feels him reach up and press cool fingers to the space above his ears. The place Seungcheol always gets his worst headaches.
The gentle massage of Jeonghan’s fingers, the effects of the painkillers, the simple act of being enveloped in Jeonghan, completely under his attention and his sweet and loving care, is enough to make Seungcheol feel like he’s bleeding. Like all the tension, all the aching exhaustion, is finally slipping away.
Seungcheol feels the press of warm, familiar lips against his forehead, and then against his mouth, and then he disappears into the sweet relief of sleep completely.
~~~
“What’s all this?”
“Don’t touch!” Jeonghan says, jumping up from his chair at the table. He grabs at the back of Seungcheol’s shirt and yanks him back. It knocks some of the wind out of him.
“He’s strong when he wants to be, isn’t he,” says Seungkwan, who’d followed Seungcheol into the kitchen. He was the one to let him into the apartment.
“What the hell?” Seungcheol says, looking down at his shirt, all stretched. Jeonghan doesn’t look sorry.
“You were going to touch them,” he says, leveling Seungcheol with a look. “They’re cooling.”
On a baking tray are a number of little colorful, plastic Torams. There’s a box of markers on the table where Jeonghan had been sitting. Seungcheol looks up at him. “What are these? Did you make them?”
“Oh, he made them,” says Seungkwan. “He nearly bit my hand off when I was nice enough to ask if he needed help.”
“They’re my gift,” Jeonghan says, without any repentance, “for fans. They have to be made by me only. I’m having an event.”
“An event?” says Seungcheol.
Jeonghan waves his hand, like he’s impatient. “You know. At concerts, how fans give each other little gifts. Things they’ve made.” His eyes cut away from them, like he’s suddenly embarrassed. “I wanted to try something like that. For the start of the tour.”
Then he turns around and goes back to his seat at the table.
Seungcheol looks at Seungkwan. They exchange a glance.
Seungkwan breaks it first. “Aigoo,” he says, walking over to Jeonghan’s chair and wrapping his arms around him from behind. “Hyung’s been learning from all the concerts he’s been going to this summer.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes and pulls the Toram he’d been working on back towards him. Seungkwan rests his chin on Jeonghan’s shoulder.
Seunghcheol walks over to them. He looks at all the drawings still waiting to be baked, all the markers spread out, all the keyrings. There are a number that are already finished, but Seungcheol can tell there are a lot to go. It’s sweet. It’s a really sweet thing for Jeonghan to do. “This is a really cute idea, Hannie,” Seungcheol says.
While Jeonghan is an expert at ignoring Seungkwan’s cute teasing, Seungcheol notices the way he squints his eyes at the Toram under his marker. The way the color of Jeonghan’s ears evolve into the slightest shade of pink. Hardly noticeable, perhaps, to the normal viewer. But Seungcheol is an expert level Jeonghan viewer.
“Should I order take out for all of hyung’s hard work?” Seungkwan asks.
“Of course,” Jeonghan says, not lifting his eyes up from the Toram he’s coloring blue. “This is way more work than all your dance practices, you know.”
“Surely,” says Seungkwan, standing up straight. He goes to find his phone, throwing Seungcheol a dry smile and a shake of his head on his way out of the kitchen. Seungcheol holds back a laugh.
He’s tempted to crowd Jeonghan the way Seungkwan just was, but Jeonghan really does look like he’s working diligently, so instead Seungcheol grabs the chair next to him and sits down. He watches the careful way Jeonghan shades his drawing. Jeonghan has always liked these sort of homey, handmade activities.
“The fans will really like these, Jeonghannie,” Seungcheol says, because he does mean it, but also because he did enjoy that flush.
“There’s only a handful of them,” Jeongahn says, ignoring the compliment and still not looking up. “It’s not a lot.”
“It’s thoughtful,” Seungcheol says. He’s pushing it, but his heart really is full of affection for Jeonghan and his event. His thoughtful Jeonghan. He can't help it: he leans over and presses a kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek, a little purposely sloppy, just to make it obnoxious.
“Coups-yah! I’m trying to work here!” Jeonghan says, swatting him away. But the tips of his cheeks are pink, his eyes bright as they meet Seungcheol’s.
Later, after they’ve had dinner with Seungkwan, as the last of the Torams cool on the counter and Jeonghan works on assembling them, Seungcheol picks up one of the newly finished keyrings.
“Can I have one?” Seungcheol asks, mostly because he’s not entirely done being annoying, but also because it really is cute. There’s something about the hand drawn lines that make it sweeter than the sleek professional versions their company sells.
“No,” Jeonghan answers instantly, not even looking up. “Why do you need one? You already have me.”
That’s true. Seungcheol's heart still flutters at Jeonghan saying such a thing so casually, like it’s trivial. Like it’s just a fact. It is a fact. Seungcheol carefully sets the Toram back down on the table, and doesn’t even try to hide his smile.
~~~
The concert ends, and all at once their rigorous rehearsals, their extensive preparations, and all their bone-deep exhaustion has been worth it. Yesterday’s concert had been a good start to the tour, but today, knowing that all thirteen of them were in the stadium at once, made it even better, even if they couldn’t all be on the stage.
Seungcheol quickly changes out of his concert clothes, grateful his hair needs little attention these days. Adrenaline buzzes through him as he walks out of the dressing room, sweat still drying on his skin. There’s an afterparty to get to, to celebrate the staff and thank them for all their hard work, and to enjoy the last of the time they have left with Soonyoung and Jihoon before their enlistments start. It’s a lot of emotion packed into a singular night, and Seungcheol doesn’t know how to even begin to process it all. Instead of even trying, he lets his eyes scan the hallway that’s still swarmed with people, hoping to find-
“Hey!”
Seungcheol turns around, something inside him inexplicably settling and, at the same time, sending his pulse skyrocketing.
“S.Coups!” Jeonghan says, and he looks so handsome in his dark jacket, his fitted pants. Seungcheol’s feelings for Jeonghan momentarily swell over all his other emotions. There’s a bit of an incensed look in Jeonghan’s eyes, which could be concerning if not for the brightness Seungcheol also finds there. The heat. Because- “Why didn’t you tell me Jungle was going to be like that?” Jeonghan demands. “Huh?”
Seungcheol doesn’t have a chance to respond, because then Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, shoving him into an inconspicuous corner, and kissing him.
Jeonghan kisses him hard, and Seungcheol immediately meets him with equal enthusiasm. He wraps his arms around Jeonghan’s waist and pulls him tightly against him, warm and close and sweaty. It feels so good, so perfect. Seungcheol’s heart beats against the place their chests press together.
When they break apart, panting a little, Seungcheol can’t help his grin. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.” He lays the cheekiness on thick.
Jeonghan shoves at his chest. Seungkwan was right, he is strong when he wants to be. Seungcheol laughs and pulls him back for another kiss. For all his indignation, Jeonghan complies easily.
They have to go to the party, they have to celebrate the staff, they have to make the most of the little time they have left with Soonyoung and Jihoon before they go, but-
“Later,” Jeonghan says in his ear, and there’s a heat to his voice that makes Seungcheol want to shiver even though he’s still sweating. “Later, when we get home, the things I want to do to you-”
“Oh yeah?” Seungcheol says, already anticipating it. But they’re cut off when someone calls out Seungcheol’s name, and then Jeonghan’s, looking for them. The cars must be ready to take them to the staff party.
Later, later-
Later, they’ll go home, whether it’s his place or Jeonghan’s. It doesn’t matter. If they’re together, it's home. Seungcheol grabs Jeonghan’s hand, their kiss still burning on his lips, and pulls him back into the busy schedule of their night. To their group, to their friends, to everything that needs them. Jeonghan squeezes his hand as he follows.