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yangyang never really planned his lives. most of the time they just happened when boredom won the fight against whatever scraps of self-control he had. today was one of those days. he’d been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for twenty minutes straight, phone balanced dangerously on his chest, wondering if scrolling through the same three apps again would kill him faster than actual old age.
so he’d gone live.
now he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, hair a mess, hoodie sleeves half covering his hands, trying to see how many dumb expressions he could make before he felt embarrassed. the lighting was bad, the angle was worse, and he was pretty sure he looked like a gremlin. perfect.
“hi. yes. it’s me,” he said, squinting at the screen. “sorry you have to see my face like this. it’s tragic, i know.”
he stuck his tongue out, then puffed his cheeks up until they hurt. he dropped it a second later with a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “this is quality entertainment, guys. you’re welcome.”
honestly, he wasn’t sure why anyone watched these things. maybe people liked watching him make a fool of himself. maybe it was his true talent.
he was mid–impression of kun's way of speaking when the door opened without warning.
and there he was.
yangyang nearly dropped his phone. “oh my god. do you knock?”
“hi baby,” ten sang, completely ignoring the glare yangyang attempted. he stepped in like he owned the place, two bubble tea cups and a plastic bag that smelled dangerously good in his hands.
“you don’t live here anymore,” yangyang said flatly. “you can’t just walk in.”
“i still have the code,” ten said, shutting the door with his foot. “and besides, you love me.”
god. he said things like that so casually. yangyang turned back to the camera, muttering, “sorry guys, intruder alert.”
it was always like this when ten showed up. like someone turned the brightness up too high and yangyang couldn’t figure out how to dim it again.
ten crouched down next to him, setting the cups in front of the camera like he was showing off a prize. “look. i brought gifts. taro for you, matcha for me. don’t say i never take care of you.”
yangyang rolled his eyes. “wow. father of the year.”
“you wish i was your dad.”
“that’s disgusting.” he shoved at ten’s shoulder, but ten only laughed, falling dramatically onto yangyang’s bed as if the push had been fatal.
it should’ve been annoying. it probably was annoying. but yangyang’s chest felt warm in a way he tried very hard not to think about.
he took a sip of the taro tea, trying to focus on anything but the fact that ten’s laugh was still echoing in the room. “thanks,” he muttered.
“you’re welcome, my weird sheep,” ten shot back from the bed.
yangyang pointed at the camera. “guys, do you hear this? i get bullied in my own room.”
ten propped himself up on his elbows, tilting his head. “you love it.”
the thing was, he kind of did.
⸻
ten eventually migrated from the bed to the floor, close enough that their knees almost touched. he grabbed yangyang’s phone at one point, sticking his face right up to the camera. “hello! you’re watching yangyang’s comedy show, featuring me, the funnier one.”
“give that back,” yangyang said, reaching for the phone.
“no,” ten said, yanking it out of reach with the reflexes of a cat.
yangyang made a face, but he could feel his own lips twitching. they wrestled for the phone for a minute, both laughing too hard for it to be a real fight. eventually ten let him win, dropping it into his hands like a trophy. “fine. take it. but everyone knows who the real star is here.”
“yeah, it’s me,” yangyang said quickly, and that made ten laugh again, bright and sudden, like he’d been waiting for the comeback.
⸻
the live went on like that, just chaos. jokes, teasing, stupid little stories. ten pulled him into a side hug at one point, arm slung around yangyang’s shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. yangyang froze for half a second, then tried to play it off by leaning into it just a little too comfortably.
ten smelled like vanilla shampoo and something warm underneath. yangyang hated that he noticed.
“look how small he is,” ten announced to the camera, squeezing him. “tiny baby.”
“i’m not small,” yangyang protested immediately. “you’re just old.”
ten gasped dramatically. “wow. disrespect.”
yangyang grinned at his own victory. “truth hurts.”
ten pulled him closer until their sides were pressed together, chin resting lightly on yangyang’s shoulder. “you’re evil,” he whispered, but it didn’t sound like he meant it.
yangyang’s heart was beating too fast. he laughed anyway, because what else could he do.
⸻
and then it happened.
quiet, almost swallowed up by the laughter. ten’s lips close to his ear, voice low and warm.
“my weird silly boy, i am so in love with you”
yangyang blinked.
he wasn’t even sure if ten knew he’d said it out loud. it was soft, like a thought slipping free, not meant for anyone else.
but yangyang heard.
he heard, and suddenly every nerve in his body was buzzing, like someone had just plugged him into an outlet. he laughed too quickly, trying to mask it, head ducking down so the camera wouldn’t catch his face.
did ten mean it? was it just one of his random affectionate bursts? ten always hugged, always teased, always threw around endearments like candy. but this felt different.
yangyang told himself not to overthink it. he was always telling himself not to overthink it. but ten whispered in his ear that he loved him, and yangyang just couldn't help but think about it.
ten was still pressed against his side, arm heavy and comforting around his shoulders. yangyang thought, not for the first time, that maybe he liked it too much. maybe he liked him too much.
he smiled at the camera, but all he could hear was ten’s voice, soft and certain, looping in his head.
my weird silly boy.
———
the live ended in a blur of goodbyes and half-baked promises. yangyang shut his phone off, tossed it onto the bed, and immediately regretted everything.
he lay there for a second, face buried in the blanket, willing his heart to slow down. but of course, it didn’t. because his brain had decided to replay those words in crystal-clear surround sound.
my weird silly boy, i am so in love with you.
yangyang rolled over, staring at the ceiling, then turned his head to where ten was currently digging through the plastic bag of snacks like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in yangyang’s chest.
he was humming to himself. casual. unbothered. too bright in the dim room.
“ten,” yangyang said, trying to keep his voice level.
“hm?” ten unwrapped something and shoved it into his mouth without looking up.
yangyang sat up slowly, hoodie sleeves falling over his hands. “did you… say something? at the end of the live?”
ten finally looked at him, eyes wide like he was genuinely trying to remember. “i said a lot of things. specify.”
yangyang pressed his lips together, debating whether to let it drop. but no, he couldn’t. not when the words were still buzzing under his skin like an electric current.
“you said—” he swallowed. “you called me your weird silly boy.”
ten’s expression didn’t flicker. if anything, his smile grew, small and knowing.
“oh,” he said lightly. “i did say that.”
yangyang’s chest tightened. “and… the other part?”
“other part?”
yangyang’s throat felt dry. “the ‘i’m so in love with you’ part.”
for a second, the room went still.
ten tilted his head, smile curling into something softer, sharper all at once. “so?”
yangyang blinked. “so, you meant it?”
ten stood then, crossing the small space between them until he was right there, close enough that yangyang could smell the faint vanilla of his shampoo again. he crouched down in front of him, balancing his hands on his knees like he was telling a secret.
“of course i meant it,” he said, voice low but steady. “why would i lie about being in love with you?”
yangyang’s breath caught. part of him had expected ten to laugh it off, to say he’d been joking, to let it fade into the usual blur of chaos and teasing. but he wasn’t joking. not even a little.
“i just—” yangyang started, then stopped, regrouped. “you always say stuff. like, all the time. i wasn’t sure if it was one of those things or if…” he trailed off, ears hot. “if it was real.”
ten’s smile softened in that devastating way, like yangyang was the only person in the world. “it’s real.”
and then, just like that, yangyang exhaled all the breath he’d been holding. the nerves were still there, the fear of mishearing, of wanting too much, but underneath it was certainty. because he knew what he felt, had known for a while.
“good,” yangyang said quietly, almost stubborn. “because i’m in love with you too.”
for the first time, ten didn’t tease. he didn’t make a joke or drag it out. he just leaned in and kissed him.
it wasn’t dramatic. no fireworks, no sweeping soundtrack. just soft lips, warm and sure, ten’s hand cupping the back of his neck like he’d been waiting forever.
yangyang kissed him back, steady despite the tremor in his chest.
when they pulled apart, ten’s grin came rushing back, bright and unstoppable. “finally,” he said. “i was getting tired of being subtle.”
yangyang snorted. “you? subtle?”
“shut up.” ten kissed him again, quick and laughing this time, and yangyang thought, maybe it was okay that boredom had won today. maybe it had been waiting to.
because this was better than anything else he could’ve planned.