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Donggyu had a problem. Well, it wasn’t something he’d labeled as a problem at first, it took him a while to come to that conclusion, but he knew that, ever since he first saw Chuei Liyu, something about him felt familiar — as if he had seen his face somewhere else before.
The confusion didn’t last too long; the moment the first notes of Liyu’s audition started playing, Donggyu knew exactly who he was thinking about: Kim Dohoon.
Luckily for him, it wasn’t that hard to ignore Liyu’s existence; Liyu and him were never on the same team, he had other things in his mind besides his high school ex-boyfriend and the boy who looked just like him.
That was until after the last elimination.
For the final mission, Donggyu ends up on the same team as Liyu for the first time, and being able to actually get to know him comes with many surprises.
That’s how Donggyu’s problem actually starts.
Liyu is shy, but very funny, and one of the kindest people Donggyu has come across since the program started. He’s hardworking too — Donggyu notices the amount of hours he spends in the practice room trying to catch up with what Yumeki teaches them.
By the third day of training, Donggyu has decided he likes Liyu, besides the occasional flashbacks he gets when he accidentally lets his gaze linger a second too long on his lips. It’s not that he wants to kiss Liyu, though — or at least that’s what he tells himself as he sits on the floor after Yumeki calls for a break. Yes, he’s just a good friend who sometimes reminds him of someone else.
Donggyu’s thoughts are interrupted by the boy himself walking closer to where he is sitting.
“Is everything okay?” Liyu asks, slight concern in his voice. “You look a bit, like… troubled?”
Donggyu laughs at his choice of words, shaking his head softly. He’s kind of dramatic, right? “I’m fine, I’m– thinking of that last move,” he says. Liyu raises an eyebrow, and Donggyu knows he’s not satisfied with the answer, so he continues, “I’m just tired.”
Donggyu pats the spot next to himself, looking up at Liyu with the question written in his face. They have been practicing together for about half a week now, so Donggyu is well aware of Liyu’s resting habits: he usually lays down with Sanghyeon, basically cuddling him despite the heat of the room. But, since Sanghyeon just left, and he probably won’t be back for a while, Donggyu might as well take this chance.
Liyu wordlessly follows, settling next to him, and easily adjusting to let Donggyu rest his head on his shoulder. It’s natural, Donggyu is just tired, it’s not that he wants to be physically close to Liyu (and if his ears feel warm, it’s because they just finished practicing, nothing more). When Donggyu looks up from where he’s resting his head, Liyu is looking somewhere else, maybe lost in his thoughts, but Donggyu can’t help but feel relieved at that, maybe even thankful. He observes Liyu’s side profile carefully, going from his eyes to his nose, to his lips– he has to look away before any unwanted thought comes to him (he feels kind of guilty when one does and leaves him wondering if his lips are as soft as Dohoon’s were — it’s not that he wants to find out, though).
Donggyu thinks he’s managing himself pretty well. He isn’t having a hard time with the choreo or the singing, and he gets along well with everyone in the team, even if his closest friends aren’t there. For Liyu, though, it’s a whole other story; it’s not that Donggyu was paying special attention to him, but he’s noticed Liyu often stays by himself instead of reaching out to someone else whenever Sanghyeon and Woojin aren’t around.
So, when Donggyu walks into the kitchen and finds Liyu sitting alone at the table, he knows it’s one of those occasions.
“Hey,” he greets. Liyu looks back at him with a slight smile. “Where are the kids?”
Liyu’s smile widens at the question, and he lets out a small laugh. Donggyu tries not to question the weird warm feeling that settles in his chest at the sound.
“Sanghyeonie went to watch Never Been 2 Heaven’s practice,” Liyu explains. Donggyu raises an eyebrow.
“And you…?”
“I wanted to take an actual break,” he shrugs. “We already spend hours in the practice room…”
Donggyu nods; he understands what Liyu means, it gets tiring to see the same environment the whole day, the kitchen’s a nice change.
“Do you want me to leave you alone? I was just coming to grab a snack,” he asks. He doesn’t want to disrupt Liyu’s rest with his presence. Sometimes people need to spend time by themselves, he thinks that’s okay.
“No! No, it’s fine. I’d like some company.”
Unable to help it, Donggyu smiles, genuine, and his smile only grows bigger when Liyu grins back at him, moving the chair next to his so that Donggyu can sit too. He does so, not before grabbing a mysterious bag of chips, which he opens and offers to Liyu first, trying one himself afterwards.
It’s nice. Even though they aren’t talking a lot, it feels comfortable to be with Liyu. Donggyu tries his best to avoid the thought of what it was like to be with Dohoon; it shouldn’t really matter when he’s spending time with a friend.
Without realizing, they’ve fallen into a rhythm: Liyu grabs some chips, Donggyu grabs some for himself, and then they wait, one of them makes a comment, the other replies, and then it starts again.
“What do you think about the choreo?” Donggyu asks in one of those chip-breaks.
Liyu’s eyes focus on his own hands, “it’s a bit hard, but I think I got it,” he pauses for a second and looks up, still not meeting Donggyu’s eyes. “Not like you do, of course,” Liyu finally adds, in a more playful tone.
Donggyu can feel the way his ears warm up as he shakes his head, “what are you even talking about?” He kind of feels like his heart is doing bike tricks in its place, but that’s normal! He’s just not good at receiving compliments.
In the flustered state that he is, Donggyu loses sense of the rhythm they had set, reaching into the bag right as Liyu does the same. They lock eyes for a second when their hands inevitably brush, and Liyu breaks into an amused laugh before Donggyu joins him, how cliché. Donggyu feels that weird warm feeling in his chest again, and he tries to brush it off, but then he looks back at Liyu, still laughing softly and– Okay, maybe Donggyu does want to kiss him, Dohoon’s soft lips or not. And that is a bigger problem than he’d thought.
The good thing is practice keeps him busy the whole morning and afternoon, so he doesn’t have to think about his feelings. However, he still does. He can’t help but follow Liyu with his eyes every time they get a break, and the “unwanted” thoughts have gotten worse (or at least that’s how he feels now that they aren’t only about his ex, but also about Liyu himself). So, he’s kind of fucked, but it’s still manageable, he thinks.
When everyone is already leaving the practice room, Donggyu feels someone’s eyes on him. He turns to see Xinlong, his expression unreadable. Donggyu raises an eyebrow and watches as Xinlong walks towards him, what even is going through his mind…?
“What happened with Liyu-hyung?” He asks once he’s close enough so that the few other people in the room won’t be able to listen. Donggyu almost jumps at the question.
“What do you mean?” He asks back, confused, an awkward smile on his face. Xinlong’s expression is even harder to read now, but he’s smiling like he knows something.
“You’ve been staring non-stop? Come on, I have eyes,” he explains. Ah, that.
“It’s nothing,” Donggyu tries to avoid Xinlong’s face, choosing to focus on the floor as he scratches the back of his neck. He knows Xinlong is still staring, waiting for him to say what he knows already, and so, he sighs in defeat. “Any advice for my situation?”
The sound of Xinlong’s laugh fills the room, it’s clear that he understands exactly what Donggyu means. Donggyu hides his face in his hands, suddenly feeling it burn.
“Sorry, sorry,” Xinlong says as his breath evens out. “I think you might have a chance, maybe you should go for it.”
“I don’t know how,” Donggyu replies before finally dropping his hands, face still warmer than usual. “But thanks.”
Xinlong nods, his typical cat-like smile appearing on his face again as he offers Donggyu his fist. Donggyu mirrors his expression and accepts the fist-bump, then watching as Xinlong exits the room.
He lets out a sigh, how did he even get himself into this?
Although Donggyu does appreciate Xinlong’s so-called “advice”, the next two days of practice go by with him still not acting on this maybe-crush of his. They’ve all been busy fixing small details and preparing for the recording, so he doesn’t really have time for it.
He thinks that maybe fate has other plans for him, as he enters the kitchen and sees Liyu sitting alone again, almost feeling like a déjà vu (but he’s not going to complain about that).
“Oh, hi,” this time, Liyu speaks first, his smile as polite and perfect as always.
“Hey,” Donggyu feels as if his body was acting without his permission, he can’t help the big, dumb-looking grin on his face. “I just came to get some water.”
Liyu nods with a quiet hum, and his eyes quickly glance back to the table in front of him. That’s when Donggyu finally notices the notebook and pen in his hands.
“Oh, are you writing something?” He asks as he starts walking towards the fridge. He sees Liyu shake his head at the question, so he grabs a new bottle of water and sits on the chair next to his. “What, then?”
“Just doodling.” Without saying anything else, Liyu picks up the notebook and turns to face Donggyu, who watches as Liyu drags his pen across the paper, taking his eyes off of it every few strokes to stare at Donggyu again.
Oh, he’s– Donggyu decides that making conversation is probably the best way to hide his shyness (and to distract himself from the way his heart seems to be beating faster than normal, just the usual stuff, you know?), so he clears his throat, trying to come up with something to say.
“Is Sanghyeon watching Never Been 2 Heaven team’s practice again?”
“Hmm…” Liyu pauses. It doesn’t seem to be because he’s thinking of an answer, but rather because he’s too focused on the drawing to talk. “He’s… Sanghyeon is taking a nap, and Woojin is supposed to have dinner with us after his practice ends,” he manages to explain. “What about you?”
“Oh, well…” Donggyu didn’t expect him to ask the same thing. “Junmin-hyung, Leejeong-hyung… Still practicing too,” Liyu nods without looking up from his notebook. “So I was just hanging out with Kaiwen in the practice room, but he left with Xinlong to grab some snacks from his suitcase — or that’s what I understood.”
Liyu’s hand stops moving and he looks up at Donggyu, amusement clear on his face. “That does sound like something Kaiwen would say, at least.”
It does, Donggyu thinks, but he doesn’t talk this time, just nods, doing his best to hold the eye contact.
“What do you think?” When Liyu turns the notebook around to reveal a simple face —unmistakably Donggyu’s—, he can’t hide his surprise.
“Wow, that’s– that’s amazing, hyung.” Hearing Liyu chuckle and murmur a small ‘thanks’, Donggyu realizes his face feels warm (yes, again). That’s when, “wait, why am I blushing?”
Liyu rolls his eyes, “it’s to make it cuter!” It almost sounds like he’s sulking, and Donggyu thinks that’s cute. “Besides…” he doesn’t continue, only giving Donggyu a face that could be described as non-verbally asking ‘have you seen yourself right now?’.
“Okay, got it, got it.” Liyu smiles again, Donggyu follows. “It’s really cute.”
The sound of tearing paper comes suddenly, and then Liyu is handing Donggyu the drawing, and he looks so sweet. Donggyu is now one hundred percent sure he wants to kiss him, just him.
“I promise to make you a better one, next time.” Next time?
“I would love that.”
When Liyu talks about a ‘next time’, Donggyu doesn’t want to get his hopes up: they’re busy enough as it is. However, Liyu’s words do come true, and, without realizing, the kitchen meet-ups become a daily routine for them; short, but enjoyable.
Still, Donggyu isn’t sure where he stands with Liyu, and he has lost count of the amount of chances to “just go for it” he’s missed already. Hence why, as soon as he sees Xinlong enter their shared room, he decides it’s the perfect time to, more or less, run away from his possible disappointment.
And so, Donggyu finds himself in front of a different room, knocking on the door three times before he hears a soft ‘come in’.
“Donggyu, hi,” Liyu greets as soon as the door opens.
“Hey,” Donggyu smiles and scans the room with his eyes: Liyu is alone, sitting on the bed closer to the door, a mirror set right in front of him. Donggyu remembers Liyu told him about Sanghyeon moving their beds together, but now that he’s seeing the room with his own eyes, and all the things Sanghyeon had had to move to make it this way, he’s kind of surprised at the boy’s strength.
He thinks of commenting about it before he sees a pile of comic books on top of a suitcase — right, he’s there for a reason. “I came to return Sanghyeon’s comic book and tell him my thoughts,” he lifts his hand to show the book he’s holding, “but I’ll just come back later.”
“Oh, he shouldn’t take long, you can wait here if you want,” Liyu offers before reaching into his bag for something.
Donggyu, who was still standing awkwardly at the entrance, finally steps inside, closing the door behind him, “sure.”
Liyu turns back to him with a smile and pats the spot next to him on the bed, Donggyu sits down carefully.
“Do you want one?” There’s about three different types of sheet masks resting on Liyu’s lap; pink, green and yellow. Donggyu thinks for a second before nodding. “Choose,” Liyu says before grabbing one of the pink ones for himself and opening it.
Donggyu looks through the packets on Liyu’s lap, deciding on one of the green masks. Once he’s grabbed it, he looks back at Liyu, who’s smoothing out the mask on his skin while looking in the mirror. He takes a moment to observe, as he always does — Liyu’s bare face is just as pretty as it is with makeup on, even with his hair unstyled and wearing pajamas. Donggyu wonders for a moment if that’s what it would be like to have him as a boyfriend, but the thought only lasts a second (or two).
Liyu drops his hands to his lap once he’s done putting on his face mask, then smiles softly as he sees the packet Donggyu is now holding. “I’ll do it for you.”
Confused, Donggyu frowns. It takes him two whole seconds to understand what’s happening, and then he’s panicking. He opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it again, deciding to just hand Liyu the mask packet and use his free hand to keep his hair out of his face, in an attempt to not think much of it (mostly to avoid embarrassing himself).
After grabbing the packet, Liyu adjusts his position, his whole body now facing Donggyu, and his knee brushing Donggyu’s thigh. It feels like a lot already, but when Liyu actually takes out the mask and moves his hands closer to Donggyu’s face without looking away, Donggyu thinks he might faint (or burn alive, alternatively).
Luckily for him, the mask is cold when it meets his skin, initially helping him to cool down a bit; but then he opens his eyes and sees Liyu’s face at about 10cm from his, and he’s pretty sure the mask can’t do any more to help him. Liyu is staring. Donggyu supposes he’s trying to be neat, since he feels his hands over the mask, working to smooth it out (and since Liyu’s expression is exactly the same one he has when he’s drawing: focused).
“Done,” Liyu says as he brings his hands away from Donggyu’s face. He’s still sitting as close as he can possibly be, hasn’t really moved back.
They stay like that, staring at each other in a silence that Donggyu can’t find words to describe; it’s as if a sudden tension had invaded the room, and he doesn’t even know since when is that a thing. He always gets some wild thoughts in these kinds of situations, but they’re usually in his head only, and there’s no one else caught in the moment with him, unlike now.
Donggyu brings his hand to tuck some stray hairs behind Liyu’s ear, and, even through the pale mask, he could swear he just saw Liyu’s cheeks turning pink.
After dropping his hand again —dangerously close to Liyu’s knee—, he breaks the silence, “How does it look, hyung?”
Liyu smiles immediately despite the weird atmosphere. “It looks good. You can use the mirror,” he points at it, right behind where he’s sitting, but too far for Donggyu to see anything; he has to move.
So he gets up and walks in that direction, hearing a noise like someone’s plopping down on a bed. When he stands in front of the mirror, he can see Liyu —who’s indeed lying on the bed— through it, and he giggles when they meet eyes.
When Donggyu turns towards him, Liyu looks rather distracted, but Donggyu still asks, “can I lie down with you?”
As he snaps back to reality, Liyu nods, making space so that they both fit comfortably, for some reason ignoring the second bed next to them. It feels nice, although maybe way too intimate — Donggyu wonders again what it would be like to do this often, maybe even more than just this.
“Sanghyeon is truly bad at calculating time.”
Donggyu lets out a chuckle at Liyu’s serious tone, “he really is.”
Once he’s back in his own room, already tucked into bed, Donggyu finds himself mentally replaying everything that happened before Sanghyeon finally showed up. Although the thought of what happened alone makes his chest fill with warmth, he can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had done something more; had he leaned closer, would Liyu have let him?
As he drifts off, he thinks about Liyu, and about Xinlong’s words.
It’s 6:42 in the morning when Donggyu checks the clock, but, to his own surprise, he doesn’t feel that tired. After five minutes of tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling as he waits for sleep to come back to him, he declares it a failed mission.
Figuring he should still do something with his time, he tries his best to get ready as quietly as possible in order to not wake Xinlong up, and then heads straight to the practice room.
As one would expect, the room is still empty, the cameras are off and the staff hasn’t arrived yet, allowing Donggyu to have some peaceful practice time by himself. Going over the whole choreo is easy the first few times, but after dancing for twenty minutes straight, he decides to grab his water bottle and sit down against the wall to catch his breath.
Only a couple moments after, he hears steps coming from the corridor — probably Junmin, who always wakes up early, but his team practice doesn’t start until 9 today, Donggyu questions. Then, before he can make any more assumptions, the door opens.
“Hyung?”
Liyu’s face lights up as he spots Donggyu in the room. “Oh, hi!” He closes the door carefully and walks towards Donggyu, sitting down when he pats the spot next to him — a habit of theirs, at this point.
“You couldn’t sleep any more either?” Liyu asks once they’re side by side.
“Yeah…” Donggyu sighs, “I came here to get some practice at least, but I’m taking a break now,” he explains. Liyu nods, understanding.
There’s a short silence that is soon broken by the sound of Liyu adjusting his position; an offer. In a second, Donggyu is resting his head on his shoulder, and Liyu is pressing his cheek to Donggyu’s hair. Liyu’s body is warm, but it’s comfortable.
Without moving, he suddenly asks, “Do you think they’ll really take us bungee-jumping tomorrow?”
Donggyu almost shudders at the thought. “Please, don’t jinx it.”
Liyu’s laugh almost causes Donggyu’s head to slip from his shoulder, and even when he manages to calm down a bit, he keeps his obviously amused expression — it’s pretty, for sure, and Donggyu wants to hear that laugh again, even if it means he might lose his current headrest, but that doesn’t take from the fact that Liyu is laughing at Donggyu. He tries his best to put on a sulky face, and Liyu responds with another (lighter) laugh when he sees it.
“You’re such a scaredy-cat.”
When Donggyu shoves him lightly, Liyu lets out a small ouch before they fall into silence once again.
As if being all alone with your crush wasn’t bad enough, it turns out doing that in silence gives you the perfect recipe for disaster (or for your thoughts to go wild — at least that’s Donggyu’s case). Liyu’s hand is so close to his, and he’s not looking so Donggyu could just… grab it.
And so, he does.
“What are you doing?” Liyu’s tone is playful, and he doesn’t bother to hide his smile as he squeezes Donggyu’s hand.
“I felt like it,” Donggyu answers, hoping his heartbeat isn’t as loud as it sounds in his ears. Liyu already went back to looking somewhere else, and maybe Donggyu should look away too, but he doesn’t. He looks at Liyu’s face for longer than he probably should, noticing the pink tone in his cheeks, and ultimately letting his gaze fall to his lips — that’s when he realizes that: oh, this is even worse. He had accepted that he wants to kiss Liyu a while ago already, but he’s blushing, and he’s so warm, and his thumb is stroking Donggyu’s hand while Donggyu is resting on his shoulder.
Donggyu takes a deep breath, then sits up straight, “Liyu-hyung?”
“Hm?” Liyu stares at him, not letting go of his hand.
“I want to kiss you.”
Liyu looks as surprised to hear that as Donggyu is that he didn’t stutter when saying it. He opens his mouth and closes it without letting out a sound, visibly flustered. Donggyu isn’t sure if he should regret it yet, but Liyu is still holding his hand rather tightly.
After a few seconds, that feel like hours, Liyu’s frown relaxes into a face Donggyu can’t quite read, and he turns his whole body to face him.
“Then do it.”
For a moment, Donggyu wonders if it was his imagination, but Liyu is staring at him like he’s waiting, or maybe like he wants it just as much as Donggyu does — Donggyu’s brain has stopped working by now.
He quickly wets his lips before he starts to move closer. He takes his time, carefully placing his free hand on Liyu’s knee for some support; he doesn’t want to let go of the hand he’s holding. As he leans in, not looking away, Liyu just waits — something in his eyes looks like it’s burning, but he still waits. When he’s close enough, Donggyu stops to scan Liyu’s features from a shorter distance, and maybe he should stop getting surprised by his beauty, but Liyu looks just as pretty from up-close.
Giving one last look at him, Donggyu finally closes the gap between them, pressing his lips to Liyu’s. It starts out slow, unsure, and then Liyu’s hands are on his neck to pull him even closer. Seeing that his other hand is now free, Donggyu moves it to set on the side of Liyu’s waist as they find their pace. In the back of Donggyu’s mind, a question he’d had weeks ago is answered: kissing Liyu doesn’t feel like kissing Dohoon, but he likes it that way.
When they separate, Donggyu feels almost lightheaded, but in a good way, and the smile that Liyu gives him is so sweet that Donggyu wants to kiss him again, so that’s what he does.
It’s less intense this time, Liyu giggles into the kiss and Donggyu can’t stop smiling. What once were thoughts about possibilities and regrets in Donggyu’s head, have all now turned into Liyu. Liyu, Liyu, and Liyu, as if he didn’t need anything else anymore — maybe he doesn’t.
That day after practice ends, Liyu stops by Donggyu’s room to wish him a good night and leave a kiss on his cheek before continuing to walk to his own room. And when Donggyu goes back inside and Xinlong sees the unmistakable happiness and deep red shade of his face, he gives Donggyu a nod and a proud smile before going back to what he was doing.
“Congrats.”
Donggyu turns on the bed to look at him one last time, “thanks, Long-ah.”
After almost two weeks, Donggyu finally goes to sleep with no distracting thoughts in his head, and a big smile on his face.