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The argument had been stupid to begin with, pointless. They’re both tired, and tensions are still high after a dance practice that didn’t go as well as they’d hoped. As the oldest members, they should know better, they should be… better. Junseo should be the bigger person, should be strong enough not to crack under the pressure, but he does, and Jiahao’s at the end of it, because he just… he wouldn’t stop needling him.
Rationally, Junseo knows Jiahao is only trying to help when he corrects the position of his feet, the angle of the bend of his arm, or how his hands move too slowly, but today, all it does is get under his skin. It builds up throughout practice, and he knows his frustration is showing when Geonwoo starts side-eyeing him, brows raised like a question mark. During their breaks, Junseo makes a point to avoid Jiahao, who he’d usually gravitate towards. Then, when they’re getting into their cars, Junseo purposefully takes a different car from Jiahao. Makes a show of it, of veering off to the other car, settling into the backseat with his arms crossed. He feels like a petulant child, but it doesn’t stop him.
He only softens when Sanghyeon expresses his worry, and he tells him everything is fine, that he’s just tired. He puts on a front that doesn’t slip until he’s alone in his and Jiahao’s room, breathing hard, sitting on the edge of his bed while he waits for Jiahao to finish showering. He considers just going to sleep, or at least pretending to, but some part of him that knows better keeps him from it. Better to have it out, whatever it is, and then it’s over. If Jiahao had a problem with him, if he thought Junseo was dragging them down, or whatever the reason was that he’d kept hovering around him like he did… they’d have to get around it one way or another. For the group.
But whatever Junseo had planned to say when Jiahao entered the room dies in the back of his throat when Jiahao does enter, only half dressed, hair still wet and sweatpants low on his waist. Junseo stares blatantly for a moment, stunned, before suddenly feeling angry again— really? After everything, this is what he chooses to do? He stands up, pointing an accusatory finger at Jiahao.
“You… what is this?” Junseo grits out, trying to keep his voice low enough that they won’t be overheard. “I thought we could at least have it out like adults, but this is what you’re doing?”
“Adults? Really?” Jiahao says, throwing his towel onto a chair. “That’s what you want to call how you’ve been acting? You couldn’t even get into the same car as me.”
“You were the one who… all day, you’ve been needling me, criticising me– I get it, alright? I should be better. I should be faster. I have more experience. But you don’t have to…” Junseo gestures before sighing, running a hand over his face.
“Hyung, what are you talking about?”
“I know, alright?” Junseo says bitterly. “So just… leave me alone. I’ll practise on my own, and I’ll be better next time.”
Jiahao stares at him, and when Junseo tries to step around to leave the room, he grabs Junseo’s wrist. Junseo turns to look at him, face set in anger.
“Hyung,” Jiahao says, his grip on Junseo’s wrist tight, unrelenting as Junseo tries to tug it free. “Don’t just walk out on me, I didn’t… I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding? Really?” Junseo says, shaking his head. “No, I understand perfectly well. I thought we could talk it out, and that whatever the problem you have with me was at least something we could work through. That I… that I could fix it. But clearly you’re not interested in that if you’re just going to show up to our room half naked after all that.”
“I don’t have a problem with you,” Jiahao says, growing more frustrated by the second. His grip on Junseo’s wrist tightens, refusing to let him go. “I wasn’t saying those things because… You don’t understand, hyung.”
“I don’t understand?” Junseo repeats, now incredibly frustrated himself. “Make me, then.”
A beat. The air between them changes, and Junseo is suddenly very aware of their close proximity, of the rise and fall of Jiahao’s bare chest, his fingers wrapped around his wrist. Junseo wants to pull away, escape it somehow, but Jiahao won’t let him.
Then, without warning, Jiahao closes the gap between them, presses his lips to Junseo’s with a dizzying intensity— the force of it sends Junseo stumbling backwards and his knees catch on the edge of his bed, and then he’s falling backwards, Jiahao following him, caging him in. It takes Junseo a second before he’s kissing back, but he’s almost hungrier for it than Jiahao, arms wrapping around him to keep him there. When they break apart, they’re both panting, and Jiahao is still hovering over Junseo, shirtless, one knee planted on either side of him.
“Do you understand now?” Jiahao asks, voice much softer than his actions had been. “I just wanted– I just wanted to help, I wanted to… to be close to you. I only corrected you because I wanted to touch you, hyung. I didn’t mean to…”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” Junseo replies, unable to help the slight whine in his voice.
Old habits. He can practically hear Yohan’s voice in the back of his head, complaining about how Junseo pouts and whines when something upsets him. He thought he’d buried that part of him during boys planet, but like this, lying underneath Jiahao, it just comes out.
“I didn’t know how,” Jiahao says quietly. “And I really was trying to help, hyung. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself, I know– I know how hard you’re trying. Harder than anyone.”
“I… I know,” Junseo says, looking away. “I know. I just… I guess the pressure is finally getting to me. And I cracked. I’m sorry you’re the one I lashed out at.”
“I’m not,” Jiahao says. His voice is still soft, but steadier now, earnest. “Don’t mind if you crack, hyung, if you lash out at me. Just let me be close to you. Let me be there for you. You don’t have to bear everything alone.”
Junseo squirms, feeling suddenly vulnerable, somehow see through as Jiahao looks down at him. “I… that wouldn’t be fair to you, though. If I put everything on you, if I–”
“I can take it,” Jiahao says firmly, and before Junseo can argue or protest, he’s kissing him again. He pushes a hand up under Junseo’s shirt, fingers pressing into his skin, smoothing over it and ghosting over his side. Junseo shivers, breath hitching when Jiahao’s nails graze over his ribs. “I can help take your mind off it.”
“I– you’re not just a distraction, though,” Junseo breathes out, shaking his head, teeth gritting for a moment as Jiahao presses a kiss to his jaw, then his neck, his collarbone. “I do… I do like you, Hao. I don’t want you to think that I… that you’re just…”
“I like you too,” Jiahao says, kissing the corner of Junseo’s mouth now. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
“Here,” Junseo says, “just be here, with me.”
“I am,” Jiahao says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Alright,” Junseo says. “Okay.”
And then he lifts his head to catch Jiahao’s lips with his own again.