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Fanmeets are simultaneously Joonmyun’s most hated and favorite part of being a celebrity. The bone-deep exhaustion that thrums through his veins is especially prominent after wearing his Guardian Suho mask for a solid two hours and reciting hundreds of memorized lines like he believes them, but here, lost in the endless sea of flashing lights and twinkling backdrops, Joonmyun feels the most safe to show a part of himself that he never can otherwise.
He feels a bit off knowing that the others are all looking at the girls flooding the arena before them (except Tao; they’ve all long since accepted that Tao looks at whoever he wants), and that it’s practically expected of them to look at girls during these meet and greets, but he decidedly isn’t. It’s not that he doesn’t have an interest in them- oh no, he definitely does- Joonmyun just prefers to dabble in his… other interests a bit while he has the chance.
He knows he doesn’t have to be nearly as careful as he is; there’s too many people and not enough lighting for anyone to really tell what he’s doing, but it doesn’t stop Joonmyun from feeling a little twist of unease in his stomach as the other members lean over to each other and whisper about the girls that catch their attention in the crowd while his eyes seek out something completely different.
“Dude, did you see that girl in the third row with the pink stripes? She’s fucking hot.”
“That chick over by Jongdae has the best rack I’ve ever seen.”
“Hyung the one in the blue shorts is totally your type.”
Joonmyun sighs. It’s not like he’s never thought about girls that way before- sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t- but lately he’s found his eyes lingering on the hard line of a man’s chest instead of the soft curve of a girl’s waist. It’s not news to any of the members, but it’s also not something they talk about often. Joonmyun prefers to keep this mostly to himself, and although the others have more or less told him they were fine with it, he hasn’t missed the tension in Minseok’s shoulders or the poorly masked distaste in Chanyeol’s eyes every time Tao gushes about his latest boy toy to Sehun, though he knows they would never say it.
He tries to push it out of his mind as he scans over the crowd, stopping briefly over a boy waving a “KYUNGSOO HYUNG I LOVE YOU” sign like his life depended on it. He’s cute, Joonmyun thinks, taking in the boy’s softly angled jawline and thick glasses, but he knows Kyungsoo would take no interest. It’s a shame, really, that Kyungsoo draws in the most male fans when realistically he can’t appreciate their attention like Joonmyun would. He sighs again. The boy has such wonderful biceps.
He picks out a few more fanboys from the sea of estrogen and makes sure to smile brightly at every one of them in turn before they get swallowed up by the waves of sparkling lightsticks. Most of them don’t notice, too busy screaming over Baekhyun or losing their minds over Jongin’s fluid body roll to notice that he’s even looking in their direction, but then- then there’s one. One lone boy hidden behind giant light-up signs spelling out his name proclaiming their love for him that catches his eye and doesn’t let go. He can practically feel the breath rush out of the boy’s lungs as his eyes go comically wide, his own little sign nearly slipping from his fingers as his smile brightens tenfold and he jerks it back and forth with renewed vigor. It pulls a giggle out of Joonmyun, one so genuine and pleased that he feels it in his toes and doesn’t bother to suppress it.
Everyone else is busy watching the other members try to pull Jongdae’s shirt out of his pants, but the boy’s focus is solely on Joonmyun, beaming and waving frantically from hundreds of feet away like no one else exists on stage. Joonmyun’s heart flutters a bit in his chest at the sight. He knows nothing would ever come of it, but he can’t help his mind drifting over what if’s- impossible possibilities and far off daydreams. What could his name be? Minkyu? Joosuk? Maybe something foreign? Joonmyun lets his tongue twist around a million different names as he reluctantly gives his attention to the rest of the audience, immeasurably pleased when he finds the boy still watching him when his eyes drift that way again.
Yixing says something that makes the other members laugh, but Joonmyun is lost to the conversation as he laughs along, his thoughts elsewhere despite knowing that he should be paying attention. He can blame it on lack of sleep and wishful thinking when he finds the boy again and wonders what an early morning coffee date would be like. Maybe somewhere in some alternate universe so completely disconnected from their own, he would take the boy to a small café they both have always heard about but never been to. He’d order his favorite drink and insist on paying for the other’s too; maybe the boy would smile and shyly accept, pull his scarf over his face to hide his blush. Or maybe he would refuse with a laugh and a shove to Joonmyun’s shoulder, push him away despite secretly loving that Joonmyun cared to offer. Maybe in some alternate universe, Joonmyun could introduce himself when he found the boy waiting for him after they cleared the stage, watch a smile crease the corner of his eyes and commit his face to memory. Maybe he could be himself and not have to worry about contracts or rumors or what anyone else would think. He sighs yet again. Wishful thinking.
He offers the boy one last wave, a blown kiss in the boy’s general direction that he can play off as being to the girl that nearly faints beside him if anyone else bothers to ask, before moving on to another face lost in the sea of girls, admiring the strong lines of the nameless fan’s face and allowing the screams to fade into the background. This one is holding a banner for Jongdae with a cute drawing of the vocalist as a battery, one that said vocalist will definitely mention to Joonmyun later, but Joonmyun doesn’t let it deter him from admiring the way the fan’s shirt stretches tightly across his chest when he reaches toward Jongdae’s ankle as the singer passes by. He wonders, ever so briefly, if those strong arms would be able to pin him down or hold him up against a wall as he worships Joonmyun’s body the way most girls never could. He lets the thought go quickly though; his pants are entirely too tight to allow his mind to wander down that road for long.
Before he knows it, the ten of them are gathering in the middle of the stage to say their last goodbyes and bowing low to the crowd, the flashing lights going crazy and screams taking on a sad lilt as the fans beg them not to go. Joonmyun comes up from his bow to wave in every direction, but his eyes wander back to a certain face half-covered by a small light up sign of his own name and smiles. Wishful thinking indeed.