Chapter Text
What Yeonjun hates the most is that in the small pockets of time where he’s allowed to close his eyes, he keeps having the same dream.
Pitch black at nighttime, he’s in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water. The dorm is silent. Out of habit, his footsteps lead him to the others’ rooms, one by one. Miraculously, all of the younger ones are asleep.
Soobin’s room doesn’t have the lights turned on. He doesn’t know why that makes him anxious. Quietly, he opens the door and takes a peek. In the darkness, he can’t even hear Soobin’s breath. Cold sweat breaks out on the back of his neck. Heart pounding, he presses the light switch.
The bed is empty. There’s nothing placed on top of the desk. The cabinets only have hangers and none of his clothes.
Soobin’s gone.
The realization is dizzying, and Yeonjun has to physically sit on the floor, his legs turned to jelly. His breathing turns ragged; before he knows it, he’s gasping for air and crying.
Every time he wakes up from the dream, he’s a mess of snot and tears. Sometimes the line between dream and reality feels strangely blurred, like he’s sleepwalking. After grabbing a tissue to wipe his nose, Yeonjun goes to the kitchen on autopilot and pours himself a glass of cold water.
Tonight, he’ll check Soobin’s room first.
The lights are out. Quietly, he opens the door and takes a peek. Once his eyes have adjusted, he can see the clear outline of Soobin’s arm thrust out in sleep. Unable to help himself, he steps closer to the sleeping silhouette, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch his face. He traces along the bridge of Soobin’s nose, his frowning eyebrows, the contours of his high cheekbones. It feels like it’s been a long time since he’s properly appreciated Soobin’s unworldly beauty in earnest. “Real pretty,” he whispers to himself, thumb sliding in a feather-light touch against the curve of Soobin’s pouting lips.
A hand firmly locks his wrist in place out of nowhere.
“Really?” A hoarse voice rumbles from underneath him. Soobin’s eyes are heavy-lidded with sleep, but they’re open, nonetheless. “Then take your time, hyung,” a quick pull and Yeonjun tumbles gracelessly onto the bed, wrist still imprisoned in Soobin’s grip. “I’m not going anywhere.” With one free hand, Soobin draws back the covers and yanks Yeonjun inside the warmth of his blanket. Their lips are mere centimeters apart, and Yeonjun’s heartbeat quickens like he’s a rabbit being hunted down. He wants to break away and escape, but Soobin’s grip is surprisingly strong.
Soobin presses a chaste kiss to Yeonjun’s cheek. “Good night, hyung,” he whispers, eyes slowly closing as he loses his fight against sleepiness. Yeonjun can feel his face burning.
“Good night,” he mumbles back, flustered by Soobin’s forwardness. Innocent pecks on the cheek and forehead had been the norm between them back then… until one day it wasn’t. He can’t remember if he’d been the one to stop first, or if Soobin had sensed something was off with the way the staff and cameramen were looking at them, but that phase of youthful folly should have been long over.
…
“...Oh, wow!”
A loud exclamation jars Yeonjun out of the first peaceful night of sleep he’s had in what feels like years. Without a second thought, he sits up and gets ready to snarl at whichever member’s been stupid enough to cross him.
Or at least he tries to. He’s not even halfway there when something drags him back down to the mattress and a pair of arms slides possessively around his waist. “Go back to sleep,” Soobin’s low voice groans next to his ear. Yeonjun freezes.
“You two want more lovey-dovey time, got it.” He’s awake enough now to recognize the person by the door. Of course it’s their early riser, Kai. “I’ll tell the others!” Kai scampers off with an excited giggle. Yeonjun exhales sharply through his nose, annoyed by the whole situation. In the first place, if Soobin hadn’t forced him into bed with him… wait, that sounded wrong. If Soobin hadn’t pulled him into bed so they could sleep together… he resists the urge to roll his eyes at the ceiling. Kai, that bratty kid, would definitely be spinning stories already, and he couldn’t count on either Beomgyu or Taehyun not to run their mouths in an attempt to embarrass him and Soobin (especially not that bratling, Beomgyu).
As expected, the teasing continues nonstop throughout the day. First is Kai, who proudly shows off his video of a half-asleep Soobin wrapped around him like a fucking octopus. Then Beomgyu, who keeps saying I guess you’re not that busy, hyung, if you’ve got time to sleep with Soobin-hyung while the managers are within earshot, that shitty brat.
Taehyun’s brand of teasing is hands-down the worst though, with his gentle, understanding smile and a sincere-sounding text message of Let me know if I need to come home later. Yeonjun can’t tell if he’s playing around or if he really means it—this isn’t the first time Taehyun’s said something like this.
“Fuck,” Yeonjun lets the English curse word slip from his lips, the sound short and crisp, aimed at no one in particular. His relationship with Soobin is complicated and confusing enough without all of this happening. He doesn’t have the time or energy to be wondering if these feelings are just leftover guilt, camaraderie, or something else entirely. There’s a comeback to prepare for, the Weverse concert, an approaching deadline for his solo project…this is the worst possible moment for him to be rattled.
Choi Soobin, who’s got the devil’s luck, happens to overhear him and leers. “Is that an invitation, Yeonjun-hyung?” Yeonjun’s eyebrows rise in spite of himself. Now there’s the smart-aleck Soobin he’s gotten used to.
“Watch it,” he retorts smoothly. “People might think you’re serious.” He gently pats the side of Soobin’s face. “I don’t think you could handle all this.”
Taehyun’s face is completely still from where he’s standing behind Soobin. He nods to himself and says brightly, “I think you two need a moment alone.”
The door closes behind him.