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It’s just a cup of fruit.
They’re backstage getting ready for their Hong Kong concert and there’s the usual table of food for them and their staff - local snacks and desserts, iced americanos and of course, those damn fruits.
Matthew’s got his hands on one of those cups, munching away happily while a stylist works on his hair, and Taerae just can’t stop staring.
Matthew’s been on his mind a lot lately, in the moments between schedules where they get a second to breathe, in the space between him getting into bed and falling asleep. Taerae will never admit this to anyone, though.
And there Matthew is, oblivious to Taerae’s racing thoughts, crunching his way through grapes and melons and all kinds of different fruits.
The stylist finishes up with his hair and pats Matthew once on the shoulder before she’s off to the next member. Matthew wastes no time in bouncing out of his seat, never able to sit still with his boundless energy.
Taerae watches with mild interest - it’s normal to track a moving object with your eyes, right? He keeps his attention mostly on the game on his phone, but eyes can’t help but follow Matthew across the room. The other boy fidgets with the decorative curtains framing the dressing room’s mirrors, snaps a few photos of Jiwoong who’s fast asleep on the couch, and playfully demands to see the show one of their managers is watching.
Taerae isn’t being creepy or anything, he just likes being aware of what his members are doing! Doesn’t everyone do that?
There, while Matthew’s peering at the laptop screen, he spears a cube of apple on his plastic fork and brings it to his mouth.
Crunch.
Taerae might be imagining things, but he swears that even from that distance he’s able to see the juice that spurts out and trails down Matthew’s arm. Like he doesn’t know what it does to Taerae, Matthew nonchalantly brings his arm up to his mouth and licks the trail away.
Taerae swallows thickly. Suddenly too-aware that he’s been staring, he forces himself to look back at his game. The round is over and his score is abysmally low. Oops.
At some point, Matthew has moved on to bothering Gyuvin, who’s in the process of getting his makeup done. Taerae can’t really hear them, but they’re just talking, having some good-natured banter as far as he can tell from their body language. Gyuvin reaches for the plastic cup of fruit with his bare hand and Matthew bats him away, offering a piece of melon on his fork instead. Gyuvin drags Matthew’s hand up to his mouth and happily accepts the treat.
Something in Taerae turns sour, despite the sweetness of the fruits being shared. He goes back to playing his game. His score is still not doing any better, though.
And then suddenly Matthew is in front of him, crowding into his personal space and inviting himself to sit on the armrest of Taerae’s chair.
“Hey, jagiya, what’s up?”
Nothing, Taerae wants to say, but instead his traitorous mouth goes ahead with “I see you’re enjoying those fruits?”
“Mmhmm,” Matthew chirps happily, as if it isn’t just average catering food. “Wanna try?”
“Sure.” Taerae’s voice doesn’t tremble at all.
Matthew stabs a piece of pineapple and starts ferrying it over to Taerae’s mouth.
Taerae is going to pass out.
At the last moment, because Taerae can’t let himself have nice things, he intercepts the fork with his hand. “You’re gonna poke my eye out if you’re not careful,” he says, just to be difficult. Quickly, so Matthew doesn’t see his hand shake, he brings the fruit to his mouth and pulls it off the fork.
The flavour bursts across his tongue, sweet and tangy all at once. Matthew’s smiling at him in a way that makes the taste seem even brighter. Taerae must be making some kind of face, because Matthew says, “Good, right,” and Taerae has no choice but to nod dumbly as he finishes chewing.
Matthew spears a piece of honeydew next. He brings it to his mouth, deliberately slow, and Taerae takes the opportunity to grab Matthew’s wrist and steal the fruit off the fork. It crunches apart between his teeth, tasting of sweet satisfaction.
Matthew makes a dramatically offended face. “Get your own fruit!” He yells, but makes no attempt to move himself away from the fruit thief.
“Can’t help that they’re so sweet and tasty,” Taerae shoots back.
“Told you. These are surprisingly fresh,” Matthew agrees. He prepares another bite for himself. Taerae lets him go, watching quietly as Matthew raises the piece of watermelon to his mouth. Instead of taking a full bite, he catches it between his teeth, holding it there as if to taunt Taerae with it.
The watermelon is red and shiny, just like Matthew’s lips.
Something in Taerae snaps. He leans up, bracing one hand on Matthew’s thigh, and boldly steals the fruit from between Matthew’s lips with his own teeth. It all happens so fast that he barely notices the brush of their lips together, until he’s chewing and swallowing the watermelon and his lips are left tingling from the brief contact.
Matthew’s left staring at him, slack jawed and fork still dangling from his hand. Taerae thinks he looks confused and betrayed and beautiful all at once.
“Wha-what?” Matthew splutters.
“Oops,” Taerae says playfully. He can feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. The burst of confidence is already leaving him, and he’s starting to feel shy again.
Meanwhile, Matthew has recovered from his shock and he levels Taerae with a smirk. “Wanna tell me what that was?”
Taerae leans in. There’s no piece of fruit between them this time. His heart is hammering in his chest. “Can I have another bite first?”
“Not here,” Matthew says, glancing around the room. It seems like no one has noticed their near-kiss, considering that the usual buzz of activity is proceeding as normal. Maybe people aren’t as observant of their members as Taerae thought.
He lets himself be led out of the dressing room, pulled along by Matthew’s small hand.
The fruit cup is left forgotten on the side table.