Archive of Our Own ^beta

_______________________

You have me floatin' like a feather on the sea

While you're as heavy as the world

That you hold your hands beneath

Once I had wondered what was holdin' up the ground

But I can see that all along, love, it was you all the way down

Leave it now, I am sky-bound

If you need to, darling, lean your weight to me

_______________________

“Taehyunie?” Yeonjun’s voice calls from the living room at the sound of their front door latching.

“Home, Hyung,” he calls back. Honestly, he wants nothing more than to beeline it to the bathroom, change out of the clothes he’d been wearing since some ungodly hour of the morning, and clean his face of the heavy amounts of makeup on it.

But he follows the sound to the living room where he finds the four sprawled out in various positions around the cards in the center of them. He leans up against the wall at the entry, watching Yeonjun victoriously slam down his final Uno card before turning to his arrival. When his eyes land on Taehyun he seems, quite literally, to freeze. Taehyun furrows his brows at the reaction, casting a glance down at himself before looking at Yeonjun again.

“You’re so pretty,” Yeonjun says, with an abundance of fondness overflowing his expression that knocks Taehyun senseless. He feels his own face slacken in response, quickly covering by glancing around the room. Finally landing on the culprit for the behavior - the empty bottles of soju on the table.

“Ah,” he enunciates, “I see,” and turns towards the fridge.

“No, where are you going?” Yeonjun complains behind him. “Where is he going?” To the others, presumably.

“I’ll be right back, Hyung,” Taehyun calls back. Then, under his breath to himself, “big baby.”

He returns with bottles of water for all of them, though it seems Yeonjun is the only one who tested his limits. Kai and Soobin appear mostly sober as they take the bottles with weary looks that beg Taehyun to make the eldest his problem now. Beomgyu pouts at him to open his bottle - please, Taehyunie, you’re so strong - but is probably fine. He handles his alcohol better than he pretends he does.

Yeonjun pouts about being last until Taehyun opens the bottle for him, too, passing it over.

“What’s this?” He asks coyly, fluttering his lashes up at Taehyun expectant for... something. Taehyun blinks back at him a couple times, feeling his face go blank again at being the sudden receptor of Yeonjun’s flirtations. A new dynamic Yeonjun seems to enjoy his reactions to.

“Poison,” he replies, monotone.

“Ah,” Yeonjun hums, “so you can reverse it with a kiss.”

Taehyun can’t hold back a flustered laugh he quickly turns into a scoff, rolling his eyes. “Drink it.”

Yeonjun obeys a little too well, chugging down half the water before Taehyun lays his hand over Yeonjun’s on the bottle and eases it back down.

“Don’t drown.”

“Our Taehyunie,” Yeonjun sighs dreamily, “so thoughtful.”

Taehyun opts to ignore that, instead asking, “have you eaten?”

Yeonjun nods, swaying into Taehyun’s thigh and resting his head there. Taehyun shoots a look over at Soobin, who also nods.

“Hey,” Yeonjun protests, sulky again, “why didn’t you believe me?”

“You have a track record,” Taehyun huffs, guiding Yeonjun by the shoulders to prop him up against the chair behind him. He doesn’t make it a single step in the other direction before Yeonjun is calling out to him again.

“Where are you going?”

“To wash all this makeup off my face,” Taehyun responds, turning back to Yeonjun with a raised brow.

“Can I come?”

Taehyun blinks again. “Can you?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“No, I meant, can you actually walk without falling?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Yeonjun exasperates, sitting up straight, “look.”

He stretches his arms out to either side and alternates which index finger he taps - tries to tap - against his nose a few times before breaking out in a triumphant grin.

“Not a single one of those touched your nose,” Taehyun says, amazed in the opposite way Yeonjun wants. “Not one.”

Yeonjun deflates, but it doesn’t stop him from standing, getting a head rush, and immediately stumbling. Taehyun catches him with a sigh, patting the hip his left hand had landed on before guiding Yeonjun’s arms around his shoulders from behind so he can carry him on his back.

“Let’s go, then,” he says, returning Kai’s apologetic look with an eye roll meant to convey I’m used to it.

He picks up the empty bottles and disposes of them along the way, then reaches up to soothe down some errant strands of Yeonjun’s hair that had begun to itch his cheek when Yeonjun buried his face in the crook of his neck. He hesitates to deposit Yeonjun on the sink counter, considering how still he’d gotten since he’d been picked up.

“Still with me, Hyung?” He asks quietly.

“Mm,” Yeonjun hums back, not 100% affirmative, but he’ll take it. He gently swings Yeonjun around, maneuvering his hands so he can grip Yeonjun by the waist and transfer him to the counter.

“Strong,” Yeonjun coos, reaching out a hand to poke at his cheek. Taehyun bats at it - a habit - but isn’t all too mad when he fails to keep Yeonjun’s affectionate cradle of his cheek at bay. He starts pulling a headband and face care products out of the drawer instead, giving Yeonjun free rein to pet and poke at any part of his face he can reach. Might as well let him get it out now so he doesn’t ruin the face care routine.

“Pretty Taehyunie,” he says again, and if Taehyun scrubs a little harder than necessary at his cheeks in the name of plausible deniability, no one needs to know. “I really like you a lot,” Yeonjun continues, slumping into the corner and watching him.

“I know, Hyung,” Taehyun snorts, focusing on trying to work off a stubborn blotch of mascara.

“No,” Yeonjun protests, then falls silent as Taehyun rinses away his makeup remover and switches it for face wash. The silence stretches on, and Taehyun doesn’t know if he has it in him to ask any follow-up questions.

He’s patting his face dry when Yeonjun speaks again. “I’m really lucky to have you,” he says, quieter than his other affections.

Taehyun shoots him an alarmed look. “Are you alright?”

“Good,” Yeonjun affirms, nodding slowly, “just happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he answers, a touch too sincere. Eye contact is impossible, so he frowns at the products lining the counter instead.

“You’re gonna be mad at yourself if you don’t do it,” Yeonjun says, weirdly cogent, and Taehyun sighs in concession.

Throughout the rest of his routine, every glance he takes at Yeonjun finds him with a dopey smile on his face, quietly and intently following Taehyun’s every move.

“Why do they even put all that makeup on you when you’re so pretty already?” Yeonjun wonders. It’s so warm in the bathroom, the heat must be getting to Yeonjun’s brain.

“No one is perfect,” Taehyun sighs dismissively, setting the products back in the drawer.

“You are,” Yeonjun says, very seriously. Taehyun’s used to that one, in a way. Taehyun is perfect, usually said as a complaint. Good at everything anyways, as if he doesn’t have to work for it. It usually makes him feel… kind of dismissed, and it also tends to steer people away from recognizing his work, assuming it’s nothing to him or that he’s somehow above compliments.

He’d never said anything about it, but he thinks the members must have picked up on how much it bothered him at some point and silently dialed that particular tease way back. Now, even when they do say it, it’s weighed out by the exponential increase over the years in the number of compliments he receives from them.

This time, though, it feels different. Maybe just because of how much closer they’ve gotten lately, but now when Yeonjun says it, it feels like he sees more of Taehyun, maybe all of Taehyun, and considers him perfect anyways.

It’s a lot. He’s too tired to digest that one, though he fears it will keep him up anyways.

“C’mon. Bed.” Taehyun says, patting Yeonjun’s knee. Unfortunately he’s not at all surprised when Yeonjun holds out his arms to be carried again.

“Big baby,” he says to Yeonjun’s face this time. Yeonjun frowns but doesn’t protest, probably worried Taehyun will dip if he snarks back. He wouldn’t, but he won’t correct that assumption as long as it makes the members behave every once in a while.

It’s a quiet walk again. Yeonjun has entered the sleepy phase of drunkenness, sure to conk out as soon as he’s in his bed. Taehyun tucks him into the covers, leaving the door cracked open as he leaves so he won’t have to make extra noise when he re-enters.

He grabs a new water bottle and cracks it open, and then some painkillers, catching Soobin on the way back.

“Is he out?” Soobin whispers.

“Think so, just gonna leave this,” Taehyun responds, slightly raising his hands.

“Cool, thank you,” Soobin says around a yawn, rubbing his eyes.

“Night, Hyung,” Taehyun snorts, resuming his path.

The water and pills find their place on the nightstand and Taehyun turns to leave when-

“Hyunie?”

He jumps at the whisper from Yeonjun, turning back around.

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

Taehyun feels it ripple through him, staring at the silhouette of Yeonjun curled under his blankets, only vaguely colorful in the sliver of dim light from the hallway. He steps back up to the side of the bed and runs a hand through Yeonjun’s hair before he can stop himself. It’s finally healing after the years of bleach damage that had forced Yeonjun to put his foot down and tell the company to give it a break. Somehow his hair being soft feels bigger than it is, like a marker of how far they’ve come.

“I’m happy,” he answers, running his hand through a second time. Yeonjun hums contentedly, his lips turning up.

“Yay,” he says drowsily. Taehyun snickers at the dorkiness of it all, and it feels so much that he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“I love you,” he says, easy where the words normally stick in his throat, so true they’re hard to acknowledge. Yeonjun probably won’t remember him saying it come morning. He knows, anyways, so it doesn’t really matter. But the whole way back to his room, changing into his pajamas and crawling into bed, Taehyun can’t stop wondering what it means that he felt compelled to say it out loud.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It does in fact keep him awake. He supposes, when he thinks back on it, that while it’s true that he’d never said anything about the “perfect” comments bothering him, there was one time he might as well have.

It had been a long day. They’ve had a lot of those throughout the years of training, only increasing after debut, and nothing made this one particularly special, but it was a long day in a long week in a long comeback season, and everything felt so heavy. At least once a day, Taehyun found himself considering his choice to become an idol - whether or not it made him fucking crazy. The night before the long day, he’d caved to a deeply unproductive urge to see what his old schoolmates were doing. And while none of the answers sparked any particular joy or jealousy in him, they seemed stable. Happy. Taehyun wondered if he was happy.

He’d hung back late in the studio, working and reworking a song he didn’t believe would make it into any album. Normally he felt fulfilled to put his hands into what they were doing and move the parts around, see how they responded to him, get better at understanding them. In that time, it felt like another obligation. He’d placed so many on himself, feeling the only way to justify the space he occupied was to be above reproach.

Yeonjun had come to check on him, sometime after midnight.

“Why are you still here?”

“Just... finishing touches on this song.”

It was a lie, one he’s still not a hundred percent sure why he told. He’d just scrapped it for the eighth time.

“I’m sure it’s perfect, everything from you is.”

For some reason, that time was the one that broke him. He’d shrugged and turned back to the desk, facing away from Yeonjun to hide the pinch in his face. Felt heat in his eyes and the bridge of his nose and stopped breathing to keep it all in, hoping Yeonjun would just leave. Of course, he didn’t.

“Come on, Hyun, it’s late.”

He’d shrugged again, making a dismissive wave with his hand, but Yeonjun had stayed exactly where he was. Everyone treated Taehyun as much more independent than he felt, which was part of the problem. Not that he’d ever blame them, especially considering that even Yeonjun, who he thought perhaps understood him the best after all the time they’d spent together, who pushed back on him the most, still hung back sometimes from actually treating him as one of the youngest. It was enough to make him wonder exactly how withdrawn he really was, if that was the reason no one seemed to worry about him. Or if maybe he really was ridiculous to feel the way he did. Maybe no one worried about him because they didn’t think it was warranted.

So it was abnormal that Yeonjun stayed, which had irritated him at the time. He only realized much later that Yeonjun had been worried. Even though Taehyun felt stranded and solitary on this little island of expectations he’d built for himself, even though no one ever once questioned his ability to handle himself, Yeonjun had noticed him pushing. He’d noticed the strain, the dimness in his eyes. He’d noticed, and he worried, and he stayed.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” he’d finally sighed, his voice wavering too noticeably. He’d felt Yeonjun’s freeze and continued “just go if you’re tired.” And it came out mean and he’d wished it didn’t, but it seemed not to even matter to Yeonjun.

The next thing he knew, his chair was being spun around and he was stuck with nowhere to hide as Yeonjun bracketed him in and searched over his face. He’d breathed his name so softly, kneeling down to the ground and cradling Taehyun’s face in his hands, worry etched all over his features, and Taehyun’s facade crumbled.

Yeonjun had tugged him from the chair to the floor, curled him up in his lap and held him as he’d cried. He hadn’t exactly known what to say, what was wrong, and Taehyun didn’t explain any of it. But when the tears finally dried, he’d gone home without any more fuss and allowed Yeonjun to tuck him into bed, curl in after him and run his fingers through his hair again and again until he’d fallen asleep.

Something shifted, after that. In some ways, it got easier. He’s not sure he ever managed to articulate everything - or, even, anything - that was wrong that night. But somehow, spending hours crying on Yeonjun made it easier even though nothing changed. Yeonjun, too, seemed lighter around him, relieved of the need to scan every facet of Taehyun’s face waiting for something to crack. Every so often, it crept up on him again. He’d withdraw back into himself, and every time, Yeonjun would notice. He’d leave his door cracked open at night, and inevitably Taehyun would cave and sneak in after everyone had gone to bed, accepting the warmth of Yeonjun’s arms wrapped around him and the quiet comfort of his chest rising and falling under Taehyun’s head. He felt less alone, finally, and it got easier.

A lot of the changes snuck up on him, quiet and seamless. Late nights spent whittling himself to a splinter under heavy pressure became late nights because he was too excited about what he was working on to put it down. Opportunities became less like challenges daring him to fail and more like hard-earned rewards of his practice and passion. Affection from his members stopped feeling like unearned kindnesses and started feeling like home.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

His thoughts shift, in the light of day. It’s a rest day for them, finally, and most take advantage by sleeping off their previous late night. Taehyun’s circadian rhythm simply does not allow that - he’s done a lot of very concerned research into sleep health over the years, but most of the advice is akin to ‘don’t work until three in the morning and then wake up at five in the morning and do a full day of schedules again’. Unrealistic. Oh well.

So he goes to the gym, and spends most of the time mentally scripting his argument with Soobin when he returns (”even on a rest day?” “I’m sorry I enjoy things that are good for me”).

When he returns home, he has exactly that exchange with Soobin while he toes off his shoes in the doorway. Beomgyu, as well, is out of bed uncharacteristically early, and it’s only when he starts gathering ingredients that Taehyun remembers their last day off, when he’d offered to make breakfast for all of them the next time. Taehyun does that, normally, making meals for them whenever they have time to actually cook and enjoy.

It’s a little silly - Beomgyu doesn’t particularly like to cook, at least not as much as Taehyun, and Taehyun has never considered making meals for them a burden in need of lifting. But he’s learned it makes Beomgyu feel better to help sometimes, and in the past that had always been hardest for him to do for Taehyun. It had clicked for him on a random Thursday, watching Beomgyu make a big fuss over re-tying Soobin’s shoes during a break in dance practice because he’d stumbled earlier. The issue probably wasn’t the shoes. It was a new dance, and Soobin was always in a particularly unfair position as the tallest, having to compensate for his height on choreography that was - usually - unforgiving of that sort of thing. Not to mention if it was his shoes, Soobin in all his years was perfectly capable of tying them himself.

But he’d watched as Beomgyu had loudly and rather excessively scolded him - about the safety of proper shoe-tying and not the mistake - and Soobin’s shoulders had eventually loosened even as he griped back and shoved Beomgyu away, drawing out the boisterous, wall-shaking laugh that was difficult for anyone to be mad at. Beomgyu had been doing a lot of things for Soobin, none of them spoken or acknowledged, and none of them having to do with the shoes.

So, he reasons, what is a perfect record in cooking for the members weighed against offering Beomgyu the chance to show him he cares, and receive that kindness in return? Even if he is wary about Soobin’s presence presumably as the sous-chef.

Unsurprisingly, Yeonjun’s room is still dark when he passes it. They know better than to try to wake him without an offering of food. Similarly, they’d never wake Kai earlier than they had to. Now that he thinks about it, Soobin being awake and in the kitchen is probably against his will - relieving, actually, because it just means Beomgyu wanted the company rather than Soobin actually being there to assist.

The darkened door reminds Taehyun again, though, of his conversation with Yeonjun last night. Where he’d been occupied by his own self-reflection while trying to sleep, now he can’t stop thinking about how much it really meant to hear Yeonjun say he’s happy, too.

Shamefully (or, at least, Taehyun finds shame in it. Yeonjun would probably argue if he ever expressed it), he hasn’t afforded as many opportunities to worry about Yeonjun as he probably should have. It had come naturally over time for the others; Kai the fastest, from even before they’d been officially in the debut lineup together. Kai had never fully subscribed to the mean, cutthroat attitude a lot of their peers had, and that alongside the instant bond of being in the same year group made him a safe harbor for Taehyun to float in and share his worries without having to fear jeopardizing anything. In exchange, everyone learned very quickly that while Kai might be far more tolerant than they deserve, his best friend is not.

With Soobin, he can attribute it to the good side of being ‘mature for his age’. He’d never had to prove to Soobin that he could hear his doubts and fears without his dedication to the group (or his belief in Soobin) wavering. Soobin had said once, as a joke Taehyun knew better than to take lightly, that he used to be intimidated by Taehyun because he always had it so together, even so young. The comment had immediately reminded Taehyun of the thought he’d had over and over again that no one worried for him because no one thought it was warranted, that obviously he had it together because this wasn’t that hard. Since then, he’d tried to be more open with Soobin about his own struggles.

Understanding Beomgyu was like trying to break open a dam with an icepick - absolutely nothing for a long time, then one right move and it all comes at once. Taehyun would consider himself reasonably good at understanding people, gathering pieces like they’re puzzles until he has enough to see the picture, but Beomgyu’s pieces didn’t come very easily and sometimes seemed to come from a different puzzle entirely. (He thinks Beomgyu would enjoy that he only ever feels able to describe him in complex metaphor.) Point being, Beomgyu’s never been shy about asking to be cared for, but it took a lot longer for Taehyun to learn to do it in a way that reached in deep past the show Beomgyu was putting on and get to real Beomgyu, saying this is because I care and not because you’ve asked me to. He still feels rather proud of himself every time he catches the hiccup between his words or actions and Beomgyu’s reaction that says message received.

Yeonjun, though. For all the time they’ve spent together, all he knows about Yeonjun, sometimes Taehyun feels he understands him the least. In some ways, he’s fantastic at conveying his admiration of Yeonjun. Compliments would be easy for anyone with Yeonjun in their sights. In other ways - more important ways - the sentiments stick in his throat like the word love. Too important not to say, but too important to get wrong, too.

There was a time while preparing for their debut that Yeonjun had made Kai cry. It was so accidental that once it was all said and done, it became an incident they never so much as alluded to because of how much guilt Yeonjun felt. Actually, knowing him, probably still feels. Taehyun doesn’t even really remember the details anymore, and he bets Kai wouldn’t either if he asked, but they were well into another late night practice preparing for their first ever stage, and Yeonjun had made a comment akin to hoping Kai had worked all the mistakes out of his system.

Now, with clarity, it’s easier to see what he had been going for with the comment. They’re no strangers to the sort of back-handed jokes tossed around in thinly-veiled frustration when tensions are high, trying to somehow vent it out and keep it light at the same time. And as well as they know each other and as long as they’ve been doing this, they’re thicker skinned and better at taking the joke part for what it is and letting the rest go.

But then, with everything so fresh between them and the pressure looming over all of them, it was the wrong joke from the wrong person, and it had gone straight through to the part of Kai that training had made harder to reach and hit the part of him that was wide open to the four of them. Taehyun recognized that as soon as it happened, and the practice had ended on the first time any of them had seen Taehyun get genuinely angry with Yeonjun.

By the morning it had been over between Yeonjun and Kai. Everything that happened had kept them both awake, and in the early hours of the morning they’d convened on the couch to talk it out and ended up falling asleep on each other. Taehyun’s never known all the details of what exactly they’d talked about, though he’d never felt like he needed to as long as Kai meant it when he promised they were past it. Taehyun, on the other hand, had a bad habit of grudges. This one was hardly a record for him; a few days at most, all the while hounded by Kai insisting he at least hear Yeonjun out.

Of course he did, eventually. He’d never managed to convince himself that Yeonjun meant for his words to cut anyone that deep, let alone Kai. So he’d heard him out, and rather than just saying “I didn’t mean it like that”, Yeonjun had confessed to him that it took until that moment for him to really understand what being the eldest means. That he didn’t expect his comment to strike so hard because he didn’t expect that Kai would care what he thought of him. At least not as much as their teacher, who had said objectively harsher things all day. He was used to being looked at akin to a valedictorian; someone to compare one’s performance against. Someone to compete with. Not as a hyung, someone to impress and seek approval from. Hearing that from Kai had made him spiral a little, suddenly overthinking everything he’d ever done and said with all of them, and he’d promised Taehyun he’d be better.

Truly, Taehyun has never thought Yeonjun is a bad hyung. Not even then. No one ever had to tell Yeonjun to care about them. No one ever had to make him take responsibility for them. He hasn’t always known how to fill the role he found himself in, but he’s always cared to get it right. In Taehyun’s opinion, no one so quick to admit that they were wrong, so willing to accept criticism, can ever truly fail them. He doesn’t know if he managed to convey that very well. It choked up in his throat, the desire to reassure Yeonjun that he was good, has always been good. He wanted to tell Yeonjun that he was the reason Taehyun made it through everything to get there. He’d cried instead.

There’s a catalog in his mind of all the things he struggles to tell Yeonjun. Maybe not all of them need to be said anymore. Yeonjun knows how deeply Taehyun admires him. He knows Taehyun loves him. He knows that he’s home to Taehyun, and in that way he no longer hangs back and wonders whether his comfort is welcome, he just acts. He understands so much about Taehyun, so why does Taehyun’s chest still ache?

Dressed again, he wanders through the kitchen to see that breakfast is still a work in progress. Beomgyu is too focused to fully take notice of him on his way to the living room, but he does see Soobin pause to take him in and think better of saying anything upon catching the look on his face. Another way he’s known is another way he’s loved; everyone can see when he’s deep in his head and lets him stay there until he’s ready.

Hugging a throw pillow to his chest, he melts into the corner of the couch and tries to find the ache. It’s not there all the time. It’s there when their managers ask Yeonjun how he is and he responds with a shake of his hand, so-so. It’s there when Yeonjun naps between schedules - he’s not one to do that, usually. It’s there when he sees Yeonjun vigilantly checking his name in hashtags and comments, taking in all the feedback. Yeonjun’s heart is soft. He needs the praise, but he also needs not to see the rest. Taehyun wishes he wouldn’t look.

All of them are victims to the “idol image”, or at the very least, the impressions they give based on what they are or most often aren’t allowed to share. All of them are, but if you asked Taehyun, he’d say Yeonjun’s gotten a particularly unfair rap. He’s pretty, and talented, and so made for this, and he takes so much pride in what he does, that his pedestal is rather high. As much as he inspires admiration, he equally inspires bitterness. Some people see a tall tower and can only wonder how to knock it down.

If he were asked, Yeonjun would say he tries not to let that kind of thing get to him. He’d say he knows who he is and knows he’s loved and that’s all that matters. Hyung’s fine, he’s always fine, he’d reassure. His dedication is one of the first things Taehyun ever admired about him, and it extends into everything he does. He’s responsible to a fault. He’s dutiful at the risk of a loss of self. He would give everything for the five of them. At times Taehyun has feared he already has.

His heart is soft. He tries not to speak ill of himself so that no one who looks up to him as an example will do the same to themselves. He’d take on anything the rest of them can’t carry. If he had the ability, he’d probably take all their hurt on himself just so that he’s the only one who has to feel it, and all the while he’d tell them he’s doing just fine.

When he’s finally called to join the table, he has to work very hard to extract himself from his thoughts enough to properly compliment Beomgyu on what turned out to - truly - be a very well-done meal. Beomgyu looks pleased with himself and it settles the part of Taehyun’s heart dedicated to making Beomgyu happy.

Collectively, they’re mostly too sleepy or hungry to make much conversation, but Soobin and Beomgyu chatter about some games they’re excitedly waiting to release, and the topic is enough to capture Kai’s interest with the occasional exclamation. If Taehyun knows them at all, it’s all leading to them closing themselves off in one of their rooms to play the rest day away, as they often do.

Yeonjun looks half awake and probably has a headache based on the way he flinches when one of them get above a certain volume, but he doesn’t hush them. He gets a private little smile on his face when Kai laughs or Beomgyu and Soobin start arguing character stats - conversations he and Taehyun almost never follow. His features are always so soft when he’s freshly awake, the muscles in his face relaxed and his eyes softer than normal. Taehyun gets it when people say they think Yeonjun’s eyes are sharp and fox-like. He gets it, especially when he sees Yeonjun in “idol” mode. But Taehyun thinks of them first like this, warm and gentle.

Sure enough, the three make plans to game. Taehyun waves them off to do it even though Beomgyu wants to do the dishes as well, reprimanding him for even trying when none of them had ever made Taehyun do the dishes after cooking. Yeonjun offers to help and Beomgyu finally takes that as good enough, finally rushing off to join the others.

The two of them wash and dry peacefully, side-by-side. Every so often, Yeonjun will flick a cluster of bubbles at him and he’ll retaliate by whacking Yeonjun’s arm with the damp towel he’s using to dry, and Yeonjun will do his goofy, nasal giggle that Taehyun loves.

That word again.

“C’mon,” Yeonjun says when they’re done, tugging at Taehyun’s wrist to take them in the direction of his room. An addendum on one of his earlier thoughts; Yeonjun doesn’t let Taehyun ruminate for nearly as long as the others do. He’s very good at pinpointing the timeframe between when Taehyun has sorted all of his thoughts and when he decides whether they’re worth sharing, and swoops in with his cuddles and his hyung voice at that exact moment. It makes Taehyun tell him all kinds of things he otherwise might have discarded.

When they reach Yeonjun’s room, Taehyun fidgets awkwardly in the doorway and watches Yeonjun plop down onto his bed. Yeonjun knows what he needs, and Taehyun knows he’s always welcome to take it. At this point, waiting to be invited is more like a weird little ritual he still insists on for some reason. Maybe he should unpack that one, too, but his head is a little full as it is.

Yeonjun isn’t bothered by it, anyways. He just opens his arms and waits for Taehyun to join him.

Once he’s happily tucked Taehyun into his arms exactly the way he wants him; faces inches apart, a hand stroking his hair and the other wrapped around his back, he asks “what’s up?”

“I…” Taehyun trails off, worrying at his already raw-bitten lip, and Yeonjun’s brows furrow. A moment of hesitation is plenty to set Yeonjun on alert, given that it hasn’t been difficult to get these things out of Taehyun in years. He should already be halfway through explaining his crisis by now, and instead he’s stopped meeting Yeonjun’s eyes.

He should have come up with something. It didn’t occur to him until right now that talking to Yeonjun about Yeonjun might pose some issues. And since he hadn’t come up with a satisfactorily insignificant lie in advance, there’s no way he can do it now. The options are either copping out entirely and saying he doesn’t want to talk about it, or giving a weird abridged summary without actually explaining what it’s about. Yeonjun would respect either, but one might hurt his feelings.

“It’s a lot,” Taehyun finally sighs, “I feel like I can’t really talk about it yet because it’s just too many pieces.”

“I get that. Do you wanna talk about some of it? Maybe it can help you figure out where some of those pieces go.”

Taehyun thinks on it for a while and Yeonjun doesn’t rush him, content that his silence is a yes. His hand keeps playing in his hair though, lightly tugging small sections and then smoothing them back down. It’s fluffy when it’s freshly clean, harder to manage, but Yeonjun says that’s his favorite.

“How.. god, this is cliché.”

Yeonjun makes a pfft sound. “That’s okay.”

“Hypothetically... how do you know if you like someone? How do you know its different with them from anyone else you love?”

Yeonjun is quiet. When Taehyun musters up the courage to look at him, he finds a deeply contemplative look on his face. He’ll do this sometimes; realize that something important is happening and try to figure out what the oldest would do instead of just being Yeonjun about it.

“I’m asking you,” Taehyun adds. It’s all he needs to do to prompt the reminder of their conversation about the whole thing. A flustered smile cracks Yeonjun’s expression and just as quickly drops when he sighs.

“There’s no good answer for it, though,” he says, watching his fingers tangle in and out of Taehyun’s hair. “I can tell you what it’s like for me, but it might not be the same for you. Everyone loves differently.”

“Then what’s it like for you?”

“I think I know it based on how... invested I am?” Yeonjun hums, tilting his head to the side and looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t really like how that sounds. But when I like someone, I want to be the one that helps them.”

“You’re like that with everyone, though,” Taehyun complains. “You literally never stop helping.”

“It’s not the same,” Yeonjun says. Taehyun’s expression grows frustrated too quickly and Yeonjun laughs, tugging at a strand of his hair. “Wait. Let me try to explain.”

“Sorry,” Taehyun mumbles, dropping his head down. Fingers scratch out the nonexistent ache of his hair getting pulled while Yeonjun thinks. For a while, he’s lulled by the even rhythm of Yeonjun’s breaths below him, his eyes wandering lazily around the room he knows so well.

“Okay,” he finally says. “It’s like this. I want to help all of you because I love you. But Beomgyu usually prefers to go to Soobin with his problems, and I’m not upset by that as long as it helps him. If I liked Beomgyu, that would bother me. I would want him to come to me.”

“Oh,” Taehyun says, raising his head. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

Makes sense, but does it help? Taehyun drops his head again, thinking on it. It’s not that he’s never had a crush before, just that identifying those feelings is infinitely less confusing when the person they’re for isn’t also your best friend and bandmate and probably not interested anyway.

Oh, ouch. Maybe he should think about this later.

“Thanks,” he sighs, wrapping his free arm properly around Yeonjun’s torso to hug him.

“Of course,” Yeonjun answers, sounding a little frowny. If Taehyun had to guess, he’s probably wondering what more could be complicated about that. Sure, being an idol never makes a relationship easy, but it’s not like they haven’t discussed it as a group before. Taehyun wouldn’t even be breaching new territory by getting into a relationship.

“You know...” Yeonjun says eventually, rousing Taehyun from the half-nap he’d fallen into when he exhausted his brain power on the matter. “If, hypothetically, this has to do with another person, I don’t think you’ll be able to think your way out of it.”

“Why not?” Taehyun mumbles. Yeonjun pets his hair in apology when he realizes he woke him.

“Because you can’t think two people’s thoughts at once,” he says. “Even if you know them really well, you can’t actually know how they’ll react to everything. Your conclusions might be influenced too much by how you’re interpreting the situation.”

He can’t tell if it's delusion or paranoia, but he suddenly gets the overwhelming fear that Yeonjun is speaking a little too pointedly to not know what’s happening right now.

“Maybe,” Taehyun concedes noncommittally. Yeonjun’s hand twitches in his hair, hesitating, but he lets him drop it.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

For a few days, the whole dilemma backs off of him. Taehyun doesn’t often struggle with separating personal from professional, and considering nothing is legitimately in crisis, it’s not enough to disrupt his headspace. He loses himself in schedules and rehearsals and damn near forgets everything.

And then Beomgyu gets sick, and as a result clings to Soobin. And Soobin starts doing that thing where he pretends it's nothing and he’s not worried, but he keeps checking Beomgyu for a fever. (He’s also pretending he’s not doing that, but seriously, Beomgyu’s bangs are perfectly fine. Soobin only keeps messing with them to feel his forehead).

Just like that, Taehyun is back to reflecting on how, exactly, he loves. Yeonjun takes care of people. Soobin frets over them. Taehyun doesn’t connect with either very well - he’s not as nurturing as Yeonjun nor as worry-prone as Soobin. Beomgyu... he thinks Beomgyu loves through his attention, keeping a little mental list of everything he knows, in case it ever matters. That sort of sounds like Taehyun - he thinks he and Beomgyu are similar in that way, even though they use it differently. Beomgyu is better at comforting than he is. And anyway, Taehyun does that with everyone, so he’s not sure it counts for what Yeonjun was talking about. Kai is like a solid presence; someone you can just sit with when everything gets too hard. He’s good at cheering them up, sure, but more than that he’s... well, he’s Kai. He practically bleeds love.

Taehyun doesn’t often wonder about his role. If anything, he’s the first to point out that all of them have their own. He doesn’t need to love like the other four, because that’s why they’re there. He knows that he’s good for an encouraging word, that the members enjoy when he pops into the group chat throughout the day to share things with them, that they take him seriously for advice. He knows that he loves them, and would like to think that he’s good at expressing it.

But he has no idea how he loves.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It’s during their next shoot Taehyun finds that he and Soobin have nothing to do for however long they’re allowed to have the present moment, and he drops down onto the seat next to him and stretches his legs out with a sigh.

“Hyung,” he says quietly, expecting to find Soobin half asleep when he looks over and instead finding him peering back curiously at him with that knowing, leader-like look that says he has in fact been noticeable the past few days.

“Taehyun-ah,” Soobin acknowledges, waiting for more.

“Do you…” he sighs, wishing they were anywhere other than surrounded by staff. Even if it’s highly doubtful they truly don’t have a clue about what goes on behind closed dorms, everyone has enough decorum to pretend. Taehyun must be pushing a minor social boundary to do this now. He drops his voice out of courtesy and hopes Soobin won’t mind. “Do you feel like you love all of us the same way?”

Soobin’s brow furrows and he leans into Taehyun. “Have I been ignoring you?” He asks, sounding on the verge of busting out a soliloquy if Taehyun doesn’t properly convince him in the next five seconds that he’s not feeling neglected.

“No, no,” Taehyun objects, holding his hands up, “no, I’m asking, like… for reference, I guess. Do you feel like you… okay, something is going on with the three of you, right?”

Soobin’s lips press into a line, caught. “That obvious?”

“Extremely. Nauseatingly. Congrats. So you love all of us, but it's… different with them, right? Or is it the same?”

Soobin cocks his head to the side, now thoroughly bewildered. At the very least, he’s too confused to keep worrying about the imaginary world where he’s made Taehyun feel bad. “I’m… are you…”

Taehyun blinks at him, about to give up when he realizes the alternate implication he’s made by being this obtuse. “No. Delete that thought. This isn’t even about you, focus.”

Soobin lines his lips again, looking more amused than chastised. “Just tell me what you’re asking me.”

“Obviously the feeling is different, I’m just… I’m asking how you know that. Like, do you… how do you know?”

Soobin reaches out to pet his hair even though he’d be scolded if the stylists saw it. “Is this about…”

“Don’t tell me it’s obvious. I’ll jump off the roof.”

Soobin tsks, tugging on a strand and then smoothing it back into place. “How do you know you don’t feel the same way about me if you don’t know you feel that way about him?”

“I-” Taehyun frowns, upset by not having a comeback to that. It’s not like he was looking to argue, but is it really that easy? Come on.

“Why are you so stressed about it?”

“I’m not stressed,” Taehyun objects, looking to the floor. “I don’t get stressed.”

“Sure,” Soobin says acerbically, “you’re also the most cold and detached member, and that’s why you send us every meme that’s ever made you smile and get clingy when you’re scared and believe in soulmates.”

“I should have gone to Hyuka,” Taehyun mutters, trying to leave when Soobin grabs his arm and tugs him back.

“I think you get too focused on who you should be to really understand who you are. Do you get what I mean?”

Taehyun picks a loose thread up off the couch and studies it. Maybe he does. Maybe it doesn’t matter how he knows. As Soobin pointed out, he already knows. The only reason it really matters, he supposes, is that if it’s never going to go anywhere, he’d like to at least understand how it happened.

“Yeah, I get it,” he acknowledges, just as Soobin is called back to work. “Thanks Hyung.”

“Come talk to me tonight if you need it. We haven’t walked in a while,” Soobin says softly, patting his head before walking away.

Taehyun looks around, reacquainting himself with the set after getting so far in his head. As his eyes scan the room, they get stuck on Yeonjun’s, looking back at him. His brow furrows when they meet, nodding towards Taehyun and mouthing ‘okay?’, and Taehyun nods back and shoots him a thumbs up. Yeonjun smiles at him before getting swept up into an outfit change, and it’s all normal, except it feels wrong. He feels like Yeonjun is upset with him, and in a moment he realizes why.

There was a split second there, between their eyes meeting and Yeonjun knowing it, that he looked… upset. Not angry, necessarily. Not really sad, either. Just… pensive.

Taehyun looks for Yeonjun again, curious if the moment would recreate itself, but he can’t find him anymore.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He means to talk to Yeonjun when they’re home, but they end up in separate cars and by the time he arrives at the dorms, Yeonjun is already shut off in his room. Out of all of them, Yeonjun has his door closed the least. It was a habit he’d gotten into a long time ago, keeping himself available for all of them. Now it tends to send a signal all on its own - if the door is closed, no one bothers him unless they have to.

Taehyun doesn’t have to, he supposes. It’s not urgent, he’s not dying. Yeonjun needs space right now. It’s the least he can give him in exchange for all he does, even if it makes his heart sink a little, a knot of worry tying itself in his stomach. Something must be wrong, right? Something about the look on Yeonjun’s face earlier…

He volunteers to do the dishes just to give himself an excuse to be in the common area, hoping Yeonjun will appear. Even just to go to the bathroom, then at least Taehyun would see him and know he’s alright. It doesn’t happen, though, and he runs out of tasks. Now he’s just needlessly rearranging things on the counters, trying to wait out Beomgyu and Kai, who are cuddled on the couch.

Honestly, he doesn’t think his facade is working very well. Every time he becomes hyperaware of how much staring he’s doing at Yeonjun’s door, it just diverts itself to staring at the other two. Something is up with Beomgyu, he thinks. He’s been quiet today, but admittedly Taehyun hadn’t paid much attention to it, too preoccupied with Yeonjun being quiet. Beomgyu was - is - in good hands with Kai. Now that they’re finally home, settled into the couch, Kai is laid over him like a security blanket. They’re speaking in hushed tones Taehyun can’t make out, but every so often Beomgyu will break into a loud giggle.

Even before he knew for sure about their relationship, he’d never had to contend with the small pit of envy he feels right now. He has no idea where it comes from - it’s not like he wants to replace either of them, nor does he wish it were any different. It eases his mind to see how they are with each other, to know that they’ll pick each other up so easily. He just… wishes he were as good at that, he supposes.

As they pass him on the way to bed, Beomgyu shoots him a look. “Don’t stay up too late, Tyunnie,” he says softly. He knows his responding ‘okay’ isn’t convincing enough when the two exchange a look about it. But at least once they’re gone Taehyun no longer has to busy himself with pretense, instead leaning against the counter and simply watching Yeonjun’s door while he mulls it all over. There’s nothing, no matter how hard he searches. He has no idea what could possibly be wrong, which must mean Yeonjun is just tired, right? That happens. Everyone needs a break. But then why does he still feel so bad?

Eventually, when the light behind Yeonjun’s door is still dark and the time is getting unreasonable, Taehyun sighs and goes to get ready for bed. His room is dark when he enters it, and in trying to get in bed without blinding himself with the light, he ends up tripping over a shoe he’d told himself at least three times to move before he tripped on it.

“Tyun,” Kai calls and he cringes, having thought Kai would have spent the night with Beomgyu. He must be with Soobin, then.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, fumbling for the edge of his blanket.

“I was awake,” Kai answers, and it doesn’t take much to realize he’s telling the truth. He sounds awake, and his voice is always rather telling when he’s tired. Belatedly, Taehyun realizes what the earlier look was about.

“Still, sorry,” Taehyun answers, finally settling into his bed.

“To who?”

Sighing, Taehyun tugs his blanket up to his chin and stares up at the ceiling. Not for the first time, he wishes he lived with less emotionally intelligent people. Is it too late to join a group that doesn’t give a fuck about me? Normally he feels lucky for their shared sentiment in being friends first. Until, that is, it applies to him.

“I think I upset Yeonjun hyung and I don’t know how.”

“Ah,” Kai hums knowingly. Too knowingly, which is rather debasing after just finding out Soobin saw it too. And now he has to wonder if-

“Kai,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows to better see the lump of blankets across from him. “Do you talk about me with the other two?”

“Depends on what you mean,” he answers, for once entertaining Taehyun’s derailing. “Nothing you tell me makes it to them unless you tell me it’s okay, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“But if one of them happens to think, hypothetically, that it’s possible I might…”

“Like someone in the band?” Kai asks wryly. “Then I might talk to them about the best way to support you. As fellow band members who have experienced something similar.”

Taehyun has to acknowledge he’s impressed with how easily that was all just laid on the table. “Okay…” he sighs, flopping down onto his back again.

“So why do you think you upset hyung?”

“That’s the problem. I really have no idea.”

“Something made you think it.”

“He…” It sounds really stupid when Taehyun tries to put it into words. “There was, I don’t know, a look.”

“A look,” Kai repeats, and Taehyun can hear the rustle of his blankets as he shifts. “Can you elaborate on the look?”

“It was a look,” sighing in exasperation, Taehyun scrubs his hands over his face and immediately regrets it when he remembers his skincare. Oh well. “I was talking to Soobin hyung, and then I saw him after, and he was looking at me like… like he was upset by it.”

“Why would he be upset by you talking to Soobin hyung?”

Not even to Kai can Taehyun explain that. “I don’t know,” he repeats instead, tucking himself back down into his blanket, and Kai makes another noncommittal humming sound. “You think I’m dumb.”

“No, I think you’re leaving something out,” he answers. “But that’s fine. Have you considered the possibility that you only think he’s upset with you because you’re so worried about him that it’s making you imagine problems?”

“That… doesn’t sound like me.”

“Not usually,” Kai agrees. “I still think that’s what you’re doing.”

Well, that would probably be due to the something Taehyun is leaving out. It's not Kai’s fault he’s wrong, though. He still knows Taehyun better than anyone, even without all the pieces. Taehyun is about to say as much to thank him, end the conversation and call it a night, when it dawns on him.

“Have I done that before?” He asks, turning his face in Kai’s direction again. It’s a little easier to make him out now, though he’s still mostly just a lump of blanket.

“You spent a week two months ago convinced Hyung was sick.”

“He was.”

“He had a cold. You talked about him like he needed to be on bedrest.”

“Colds can turn into bronchitis!”

“We all work through colds, you included,” Kai points out, graciously not mentioning how defensive Taehyun is getting about a question he asked. “And some time before that you became convinced he was fighting with Beomgyu Hyung when really Beomgyu was just having one of his off days. You didn’t even notice he was barely talking to you, either.”

Taehyun lines his lips, having nothing to say to that one.

“Every time Hyung goes to bed early you stare at his door like you’re convinced he’s crying behind it.”

“Not every-”

“Most times,” Kai corrects, and Taehyun flounders instead of rejecting that again.

“Okay, got it,” he sighs. “I regret asking.”

“I’m glad you did,” humming contentedly, Kai rolls over again. He knows the conversation is over. More than that, he’s probably satisfied with having gotten to say a piece Taehyun is sure he’d been rehearsing for a while. “Love you, Tyunnie. Go to sleep.”

Taehyun rolls over, too, both of their backs to each other now, and weighs the truth of what Kai had to say. More than that, he weighs what it might mean.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

When Yeonjun spends the next morning quiet, it’s all Taehyun can do to refrain from shooting Kai a look that says I told you so. Yeonjun keeps his headphones on until the absolute last minute he has to remove them, and by then they’re all too busy with makeup and wardrobe for their shoot for anyone to get a moment alone.

Nonetheless, Taehyun keeps searching for the moment, in between bouts of staring. Beomgyu swings by him for a while, not-so-subtly trying to distract him from Yeonjun-watching, but it’s largely ineffectual and Beomgyu doesn’t try all that hard to push it. When Taehyun has a goal in mind, most of the time nothing short of an intervention can pull him off of it.

He finally gets his chance when the cards fall in his favor - Soobin isn’t ready when the cameras are, so Beomgyu and Kai’s unit shoot gets moved up. It leaves him and Yeonjun with nothing to do.

Yeonjun barely acknowledges him when he walks up, though Taehyun knows by the small twitch of his head that he’s been noticed. “Hyung?” He asks softly, waiting for anything. Yeonjun’s eyes track up to his face, looking a little far away, but he nods in invitation. “Can I talk to you?”

Brows furrowing, Yeonjun closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head minutely. Then he looks at Taehyun again, actually focused on him this time, and his neutral expression is replaced with concern. “Yeah, of course,” he mumbles, getting up from his seat and leading the way to a more private spot. More private, here, really just means an unoccupied corner. At this rate, Taehyun is going to have to make a public statement to retract everything he’s previously said about being good at work-life balance.

When they’re facing each other, Taehyun’s back to the corner and face shielded from potential onlookers, Yeonjun speaks again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just…” he chews on his lip, mulling over what exactly he even wants to say. He doesn’t usually ask questions like this - out of everyone, he’s the most obstinate in insisting that he won’t dig for problems. They all know what they need to do if they have an issue with him. Nonetheless, he asks. “Are you mad at me?”

Yeonjun’s eyes fly wide open, head shaking immediately. “No, I’m not mad at you.”

Reassuring as the words are, they don’t make him feel better at all. “Okay,” he says quietly anyway. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Dealing with something,” Yeonjun says quietly, hands twitching like they want to reach for him. They don’t, though, probably because they have to be in front of the camera any moment. “I saw you talking to Soobin. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, watching Yeonjun’s face carefully. “Soobin Hyung helped.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. He can tell by the way Yeonjun’s expression drops a little, back to the detached one he’d had when Taehyun first approached him. “That’s good, then,” he says quietly. “And I’m not mad at you. But tell me if Hyung can do anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Taehyun agrees. The knot in his stomach gets worse - he hadn’t been prepared to be right, and he doesn’t know what to say now that he is. Before he can come up with anything to extend the conversation, to fix it at all, someone calls for Yeonjun and he shoots Taehyun a soft, unconvincing smile before walking away.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🜲⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Nothing is out of the ordinary for the rest of the day. Yeonjun is almost startlingly normal, until they arrive home and he breaks off quickly for his own room, muttering something about an early night. When everyone exchanges looks about it, Taehyun gestures to himself to claim dibs and no one objects.

He takes his time, knowing better than to talk to Yeonjun before he’s decompressed. He gets ready for bed and waits until the other’s lights are out before approaching Yeonjun’s room where, unsurprisingly, he sees the light still on. He knocks softly.

“Yeonjun Hyung?” He calls.

“Come in,” Yeonjun says from inside. He has a rather obvious voice he uses when he’s forcing himself to be normal.

Taehyun finds him positively surrounded by legos. “Is this the set Beomgyu got you?”

“Think so,” Yeonjun frowns, eyeing the collection of future builds occupying a corner of his room. “Might be from Taehyungie Hyung.”

“Hm,” Taehyun hums, folding himself carefully into an empty spot near Yeonjun. “Do you want to know what I talked about with Soobin Hyung?”

Yeonjun tenses a little at the reminder, and even with the nerves curling in his stomach Taehyun has it in him to almost smile, grateful Yeonjun is so purposely not looking at him that he misses the inappropriate reaction.

“I always want to know. But you don’t have to tell me everything,” he answers, too honest and too revealing for his own good.

“What if I want to tell you everything?” Taehyun asks, itching for Yeonjun to look at him. “What if I want to come to you every time?”

Yeonjun freezes, not doing much reacting of any kind. It’s enough to make Taehyun second guess himself, for a moment, until he answers “then I would ask why you went to Soobin.”

“I needed to talk about you to someone who isn’t you,” Taehyun answers honestly. Finally Yeonjun looks at him, his lips slightly pouted in the way they get when he’s trying to figure out what he’s supposed to do now. Taehyun used to see that look all the time - for a while, when he cried, Yeonjun would always get that look, desperate to figure out how to soothe him. He hasn’t seen the look in years now.

“What about me?” He asks quietly, sounding very plaintive and afraid.

“Trying to figure out how I know I love you.”

Yeonjun fish mouths at him, finally making a high-pitched noise of simultaneous embarrassment and bewilderment. “Did you figure it out?”

“I did,” Taehyun nods, scooting closer. “Figured out you love me, too.”

Yeonjun looks down at where Taehyun has closed the gap between him and then back up at his eyes. “Don’t mess with me, please,” he begs.

“Would I do that, Hyung?”

Yeonjun sighs, looking between Taehyun and his legos. It’s stupidly endearing, the way Taehyun usually feels towards Yeonjun. “No,” he answers, though he didn’t have to, “I guess I just…”

“I worry about you,” Taehyun says. “I worry about whether you’re really okay. And I wonder if you’d talk to me if you weren’t. I think part of me feels like I haven’t been doing enough for you, to not know what’s wrong. But then Soobin Hyung told me that he thinks I don’t really understand who I am, and that made me think of you, because if any of us know exactly who we are, it’s you.

“So then I thought maybe I was just inventing problems in my head, and it was weird of me to not take you seriously when you say you’re fine. It’s not like you’ve ever shown yourself to be someone who doesn’t know your limits, so maybe it’s crazy of me to always feel like I need to watch you. I don’t feel like that with the others. If they tell me they’re fine, I believe that they are or they’ll find someone who can help if they’re not. That’s not enough for me, with you.”

If there were ever a time for Yeonjun to break his perfect record of never interrupting Taehyun’s rambles, this would be it. He doesn’t, though, just going back to his previous wide-eyed, mouth open stare. He looks dumb, and so, so pretty, and Taehyun kind of wants to kiss him.

“Please say something.”

“You want me to come to you, too.”

“Yes.”

Yeonjun’s face does something funny; sort of like crumpling, except he looks too happy for the tears in his eyes. Taehyun sighs and closes the rest of the distance, allowing himself to be yanked into a hug.

“Lego. In my thigh. For you.”

“Shut up. Ruining the moment,” Yeonjun scolds, though he lifts him into his lap to avoid any more legos. “I’m sorry for maybe overreacting a little bit when I saw you talking to Soobin.”

A little bit? Taehyun thinks, though he chooses not to say it like that. “You’re silly.”

“I know,” Yeonjun huffs. Everything suggests he’s still teary and desperately trying to pretend he isn’t. He’s such a crybaby it’s impressive anyone manages to think he’s actually scary. And as much as Taehyun would like to tease him for it, it’s hopelessly endearing to him.

Leaning into the hug, Taehyun wraps his arms around Yeonjun to return it. Before he knows it, Yeonjun is breathing a soft laugh against his neck, squeezing his waist.

“Did I really worry you this much?” He asks, referring probably to the way Taehyun’s arms have locked tight around him, betraying something he hasn’t cognitively registered yet.

“I just…” Taehyun relaxes his hold, fidgeting with Yeonjun’s shirt.

“Tell me,” Yeonjun coaxes when he stops for too long, brushing a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think I’m worth very much if I can’t help you.”

Yeonjun’s hands run up his sides to cradle his face, pulling him away to look at each other. “You’re worth everything to me. Everything. Do you understand how much I admire you?”

Taehyun’s face goes blank, taken aback. Admire? “...Me?”

“You,” Yeonjun breathes, so much more a love confession in its delivery than the words themselves are. “The one always running next to me. As intense as me, which…” a huff interrupts him and he smiles. “For the longest time, when I looked at you, I worried you were going to burn yourself out. And I thought… I thought if there was one thing I could do right for you, it was to be the person who wouldn’t tell you to stop. I just wanted to be there to catch you.”

“You did,” Taehyun answers quietly. “You always do.”

Yeonjun’s smile grows, his cheeks bunching up happily, and the fondness in his chest bubbles. He reacts the same to this as he does to every praise his work has ever received, like this is just as important to him.

Grabbing one of his hands, Taehyun pulls it down to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it, watching Yeonjun as he does. “Romantic,” Yeonjun comments softly, still with that goofy grin on his face. “I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t see it.”

Taken off guard again, Taehyun’s lips linger a little too long before he lowers Yeonjun’s hand. “I think the same thing about you. I don’t get why people think you’re intimidating. You’re the kindest person I know.”

“The kindest?” Yeonjun repeats dubiously.

“You’re the slowest to talk shit about anyone else,” he points out, holding up a finger before Yeonjun can point out the obvious. “Except maybe Kai, but he’s meaner than you when he does.”

Yeonjun laughs a little, shrugging in concession. “And you like that about me?” He asks, tone turning teasing. “Because you can be pretty mean too.”

“Yep,” Taehyun nods, not ashamed of it, and Yeonjun giggles again. “And then you say something about why they might have said whatever pissed me off, and it reminds me that if no one ever gave me the benefit of the doubt, you’d probably all hate me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive anyone-” he gets distracted by the way Yeonjun lines his lips in amusement and grins back “-but it still makes me a better person when you remind me of things like that.”

Smile softening, the thumb still cradling Taehyun’s face brushes softly under his eye. “Sometimes I ask myself how you would react to the things people say about me to remind myself I deserve better.”

All at once, Taehyun’s throat tightens and he swallows back against the unexpected tears. “Oh,” is all he manages to say, and Yeonjun laughs softly and tugs their foreheads together.

“You carry so much that I worry about giving you any more,” he says quietly, winding his fingers into the hair at the back of Taehyun’s head, and Taehyun represses a shudder.

“You carry so much that I worry about you burning yourself out,” Taehyun shoots back, squeezing the hand he’s holding.

“We carry each other?” Yeonjun suggests, and Taehyun’s forehead slips off of his when he nods.

“I like the sound of that.”

Yeonjun’s eyes track over his face like he’s memorizing it. It’s sweet, it is, and Taehyun would hate to ruin the moment. But something is missing and it’s about to drive him crazy.

“Yeonjun,” he says, and a raised eyebrow answers him. Shrinking away a little, Taehyun breaks into a shy grin while Yeonjun waits for him to correct himself. “Baby,” he says, softer, made shy by the word. It almost doesn’t feel right leaving his mouth, directed at Yeonjun, not a tease like he usually delivers it but an admission of his affection. But when it makes Yeonjun’s expression go all soft again, happy, Taehyun decides he really doesn’t care if he feels silly saying it.

He ends up not having to ask. The hand on his face tugs him closer and he shuts his eyes, feeling the brush of their noses and the softest press of Yeonjun’s lips before they finally meet for real. Yeonjun’s thumb keeps stroking his cheek as he holds him, moving so gently it becomes all Taehyun can think about, like it leaves more room in his head for him to individually notice the shape of his mouth and the press of the hand on his face and the small fidgets of the one he still holds.

Yeonjun is so warm to be around. Even Taehyun can admit that maybe that wasn’t always true, that his impression of Yeonjun has become rather rosy the longer he’s known him. It took Yeonjun a while to settle into his image, to carry his reputation so softly as he does now. There was a time Taehyun looked at him with starry admiration but couldn’t dream of holding eye contact with him, let alone a conversation. But then he spent time with Yeonjun, full months where Yeonjun was the only person who could truly, fully appreciate what he was feeling. And over time Yeonjun’s fire grew steady.

Taehyun still hasn’t mastered the art. Some days he feels like a candle, others he feels like a house fire doused in accelerant. And right now he… is out of metaphors, just knows he’s growing warmer and warmer and without thinking he frees his hand so he can hold Yeonjun’s face, pressing closer to him. Yeonjun makes a small noise, moving both of his arms to wrap around Taehyun’s waist and tug him up until he’s clumsily made it to his feet. Only then does Taehyun break away, briefly meeting his eyes before getting embarrassed by the look there and tucking himself into Yeonjun’s neck.

“My sweetheart,” Yeonjun sighs softly, moving them to the bed and rolling into it so Taehyun is tucked between him and the wall. “Why are you getting all shy now?”

“That wasn’t very chill of me,” Taehyun mumbles into his shoulder. He’s not sure it even made sense, but Yeonjun laughs.

I like you unchill,” he answers, petting Taehyun’s hair. “That’s when you’re my Taehyun. You’re so cu-”

Taehyun cuts him off with his lips, reveling more in the fact that Yeonjun lets him than the kiss itself.

_______________________

I do not have wings, love, I never will

Soarin' over a world you are carryin'

If these heights should bring my fall

Let me be your own Icarian carrion

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall

Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

If I should fall on that day

I only pray, don't fall away from me

_______________________