Archive of Our Own

It had been a long time since they last had this much free time to just have fun. In fact, for boys who lived a grueling routine dictated by pure exhaustion, that sudden idleness felt strange, almost uncomfortable.

In all his nearly six years cooped up in that company, Martin had never seen so many trainees gathered together, enjoying themselves in such a genuine, unpretentious way. They had finally managed to get a day off amidst the constant, grueling training sessions for the group’s final lineup. In a rare act of benevolence, PD-nim had reserved the large swimming pool and the entire recreation area of the condominium where the boys lived, just so they could relax a bit and clear their exhausted minds.

Something like that was an incredibly rare luxury.

But Edwards, despite finding the initial strangeness of it all, wasted no time in making the most of that moment. From the exact instant the announcement was made that they could use the courtyard area, the boys' dormitory had turned into a literal chaos of euphoria. There were teenage boys running back and forth, throwing clothes at one another, hurriedly putting on swimsuits, rushing out to buy snacks, and putting together games to take down to the recreation area.

It was already noon. The sun beat down heavily, reflecting off the chlorinated water, and everyone was so at ease, either inside or around the pool, that it didn't even look like the overwhelming majority of those boys would be disqualified in just a few months.

Only one spot remained for the final lineup of the group—the coveted position of the fifth and final member. Only one person among all of them would be chosen by the recruiters to take that place.

However, it seemed that all of them, purposely and in a silent agreement, pretended that those months of fierce competitions and brutal evaluations to decide who would actually debut had never existed. On that afternoon, they were just normal boys; everyone there looked like lifelong friends enjoying the summer.

The half-Canadian boy with brown hair already had his position guaranteed. It had been worth it to spend so many years stuffed inside the studios of that company, giving up the life of an ordinary pre-teen just to train, sing, dance, and record until utter exhaustion.

But he watched, observing from afar, how hard all those other trainees were fighting, and even intimidating and bickering with each other behind the scenes, just to secure that single spot, to fulfill that mutual dream.

Even knowing that, deep down, he felt bad about all of it, and that a sharp melancholy hit him because one day he would have to say goodbye to almost all the guys surrounding him right now—who were barbecuing, swimming, or jumping around and teasing each other—Martin held onto that moment. Today, he was going to have as much fun as he possibly could, cherishing every single second of their company.

He threw himself into wild diving challenges, fierce competitions to see who could stay underwater the longest without breathing, and he even tried to race the former competitive swimmer among them, Ahn Keonho. He ended up losing in a humiliating, miserable fashion to the younger boy.

James and Seonghyeon were also there. The younger one had bleached his hair once again and was blonde now, sporting utterly dry strands, while the older one kept his long, brown bangs out of the water. He hadn't even stepped into the pool; he had spent long minutes patiently teaching the younger boy how to play his singing bowl.

Martin felt like a child. He barely left the water, climbing up onto the warm ceramic edges only to devour some snacks or to mischievously push one of the younger trainees into the pool, not giving his swim shorts—the only piece of clothing he wore—a single second to dry on his body.

Although the tall boy was having a blast, smiling more openly than he had in months, an uncomfortable emptiness persisted. He missed someone there.

He missed the presence of a trainee who had joined the company just a few months ago. A former model who had already done a bit of everything before arriving there among them, from acting in commercials to playing in orchestras and competing in basketball tournaments.

But, very unlike how sharp and showy the other rookies tended to be, he was calm, silent, almost ethereal. He passed practically unnoticed through the hallways.

He was so quiet and reserved that, by a very narrow margin, Martin might not have noticed him among the other prominent trainees. But once his eyes fell upon him, it became impossible to look away.

To Edwards, there was something magnetic about Kim Juhoon. He couldn't quite explain if it was just because they were the exact same age, if it was the fact that both had started working in the ruthless entertainment industry from a very young age, or if it was the electrifying clash of their personalities.

Whatever it was, it made Edwards feel instantly infatuated with him.

And Martin knew so little about him! Yet, how could the mere presence of the brunette in the same room leave the hairs on the back of Martin's neck standing on end? Around him, Martin became stupid, nervous, tripping over his own words and talking a bunch of nonsense.

But still, he loved talking to him. It was surreal how, in such a short time of knowing each other, and even knowing so little about the dark-haired boy, he already felt entirely comfortable opening up to him. They understood each other on an almost instinctive level, in a way Martin had never felt before, and he always walked away from those conversations feeling incredibly lighter.

Juhoon had a completely different way of looking at the world and solving problems, and his inner stillness did wonders for Martin's chaotic mind.

We've been through so many things in our lives, but how can he see everything in such a calm and patient way?

He had already been talking to Juhoon for a few months now, desperately—and in a way that was not subtle at all—looking for ridiculous gaps in his heavy routine as a student, music producer, and trainee, just to bump into the boy in the company hallways, the dance studio, or even during vocal lessons.

And with every encounter they had, he felt his fingers tingle and his breath hitch harder and harder whenever he was nearby.

And, like the hormone-driven teenager he was, he had even made some small changes to his style just to catch the older boy's eye. He had put on a dangle crucifix earring that was longer than his usual ones, started wearing a pair of rimless glasses that made him feel more mature and stylish, and needlessly wasted his shaving cream every single day just to ensure not a single stray hair was visible on his face. All of this in the hope that Juhoon would find him handsome, just to earn small compliments from the brunette, which invariably left Martin with a stupid, goofy grin on his face for the rest of the day.

But… For some reason, Juhoon hadn't been talking to Martin over the last few days.

In fact, he had vanished. Martin had "subtly" looked for him in all the places the new trainees usually hung out for more than a week, exhaustively hunting for him in the dance studio, the second dorm, and the vocal room, but nothing! Kim wouldn't even reply to his messages on KakaoTalk lately…

And Martin knew exactly what that behavior pattern meant. He had gone through the exact same thing with other peers often enough to understand the dark weight of what that sudden distance implied.

Just thinking about it made a bitter, metallic taste flood his mouth. The mere possibility made his mind abandon the joy and fun around the pool, while his stomach churned violently.

Martin didn't want that to happen again. He couldn't bear to lose another one. Not him.

The brown-haired boy was suddenly shaken from his painful trance when, on the other end of the long pool, James and Sean began to greet and wave excitedly at someone who was approaching them. And the exact moment his eyes locked onto the arriving figure, wearing dark swim shorts and a light white shirt, Martin froze.

How is it that he came???

Martin watched, mute and paralyzed, as Kim Juhoon finished greeting the other trainees—who also looked genuinely shocked by his surprise appearance—and timidly stepped into the water. The Korean boy made an adorable grimace and muttered a complaint about the water being much colder than he had imagined, submerging his small frame up to his shoulders.

Fuck, that was a terrible time to see Juhoon again after so many days without a proper look at him! Martin's brown hair was probably stiff and drier than ever because of the chlorine, his short haircut was a bit uneven due to a barber's mistake, and, as if the universe wanted to punish him, there were two awful, red pimples shining right on his forehead.

Damn, how could he get close to Kim like this? In that deplorable state?

And to make his insecurities even worse, the Canadian genuinely hadn't thought the older boy would actually show up there at the recreation area. If he had known, he would have put on a t-shirt, a tank top, whatever, anything that could hide his lean, undefined torso from the boy. He wanted so badly for Juhoon to think he was a handsome teenager, for God's sake…

He barely noticed that Keonho was practically shouting in his ear, insistently calling him for another underwater challenge. Martin had stayed there, frozen, for much longer than he realized, just staring at the brunette from afar, who was chatting discreetly with the other trainees, leaning against the side completely opposite to where Martin stood.

Juhoon had been letting his dark locks grow for a few months now… His hair almost brushed his shoulders, looking softer, damper, and silkier than ever. The Korean's youthful face was finally losing the last baby features he had when he had just passed his Big Hit audition, revealing mature and incredibly beautiful traits.

He is so… so beautiful, Martin thought, sighing heavily.

He needed a sharp slap on the back of his neck from Ahn to fully awaken from his trance and pay attention to what the maknae wanted. Soon, the half-Korean forced himself to return to his mission of having as much fun as he could, enjoying as much time as possible with everyone there.

But at all times, whenever he had a chance, he would look at Kim out of the corner of his eye. He tried to catch a small glimpse of what he was doing from afar, anxiously searching for any opening to go over to him, greet him, talk, or just give a simple handshake. That alone would satisfy all the longing and the crushing loneliness Martin was feeling for that dark-haired boy, even if it was so little compared to the maelstrom he carried in his chest.

At some point, when Martin left the water to help another trainee at the barbecue grill, his eyes wandered vaguely across the pool and Juhoon was already watching him stealthily. The brunette averted his face way too fast, turning his attention back to some conversation he was having with Yufan. Just that minuscule exchange of fleeting glances for a few seconds, after so much time without any contact, was enough to send chills down Martin's neck, making him almost drop the entire cutting board full of meat onto the ground.

It was almost pathetic how much of an impact Martin felt from so little coming from Juhoon.

As quickly as possible, Martin was back in the pool, trying little by little and in a zigzag pattern to get closer to the older boy. He navigated through the bodies of the other swimmers along the way, strategically joining the games he was called into during his path. He played chicken, carrying Seonghyeon on his shoulders while the newly blonde boy tried to knock Keonho into the water, then he took part in a ball toss and was even the referee for a water race, all of this until he finally stationed himself just a few meters away from the brunette.

As the hours passed, the day grew darker and the sky bled into intense shades of orange and purple. The water lost the sun's warmth, turning colder and colder, making it less inviting and pleasant to stay inside. Most of the boys already felt the heavy weight of exhaustion in their lethargic bodies from swimming so much, their fingers completely wrinkled from the prolonged contact with the chlorine. And little by little, one by one, Martin's peers began leaving the water.

And he always felt a sharp pang of sadness with every departure, insisting a bit with a strained voice:

"Come on, are you leaving already? But the fun just started!"

"Hey, stay a little longer!"

"But you barely got in the water, don't you want to stay more?"

"Going already?"

Martin tried to force a fun and playful tone with his comments. But deep down, it hurt to see the other trainees leaving, leaving the water empty.

He had no idea when the next time would be that they'd have a free day of leisure like this… And he had no idea how much longer he would have their presence in his life.

It was always like that in the industry. Trainees come and go; at any given moment, they would leave.

Finally, the orange clouds of the twilight vanished, leaving only the pitch-black of a dark, starry sky. The recreation area was now illuminated only by the small, low blue lights beaming from the bottom of the pool, creating an intimate, much darker, and colder atmosphere.

James, Keonho, and Seonghyeon had also gone up to the dorm. Yufan had been the first to leave, making up a lame excuse that he was already too old to play around in the water that much.

In the end, the last trainees who were surrounding Jju said their goodbyes, checking if the boy really wanted to stay in the pool and jokingly commenting that Juhoon would look even paler if he kept wrinkling inside the water.

And it was only then, with them leaving and walking further away with wet footsteps toward the building, that Martin realized: They had left Juhoon completely alone with him in that blue vastness. In reality, Juhoon was the one who had chosen to stay behind, alone with him.

Martin’s jaw clenched. He didn't know how to look at the older boy, let alone how to strike up a conversation. Suddenly, the pool felt colossal, an intimidating void where the sound of the water lapping against the tiled edges echoed far too loudly. The absence of the other boys left the atmosphere heavy, thick with all the words that had been left unsaid over the past few weeks.

Before Martin could gather his breath and summon the courage—before he could fully turn to Juhoon and say something, anything—he was interrupted.

"Hey."

Martin nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the shorter boy’s deep voice so close to him. Glancing in his peripheral vision, he realized the older boy had stepped even closer, watching the Canadian with a quiet, observant intensity.

"H-hi…" Shit, how could Martin be this painfully awkward? He wanted to look cool, collected, unbothered. But he was practically vibrating, his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he was burning to ask Jju.

"Is... is everything okay?" Juhoon asked, genuine concern lacing his tone. Holy shit, it had been weeks since he last heard the brunette's voice, and Martin felt a dizzying mix of relief and anxiety, his stomach doing flips just from hearing that raspy timbre again.

Martin had to take a sharp, deep breath, scraping together enough courage to finally turn and face the older boy properly, praying silently that Juhoon wouldn't notice the new breakouts on his face or his spiky, wet hair under the dim lighting.

But as soon as he got a good look at Juhoon from the front, he realized the distance between them was devastatingly short, and the breath was knocked right out of his lungs again. They were both standing waist-deep in the water, but that didn't erase their height difference; Juhoon still had to look up at him. The shorter boy tilted his chin up slightly, peering at him through those large, dark, doe-like eyes that left the Canadian absolutely spellbound.

It really took Martin a second to find his voice.

"Yeah…" He swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from the older boy. "It's been a while, right?"

Juhoon seemed to relax a fraction, relieved that the ice was broken. But the Canadian was so pathetically focused on trying to keep his own breathing even that he barely noticed the shift in the brunette's posture.

"Yeah… Sorry for disappearing on you." Juhoon averted his gaze to the rippling water, trying to hide the brief flush of shame creeping up his cheeks.

"Did… did something happen?"

"I asked the company for some time off… I needed a few days with my family."

"Ah, yeah. I-I get it…" Martin genuinely understood that feeling, the desperate urge to clear one's head and cure the homesickness amidst all that turbulence. But at the same time, he also understood the dark, heavy implications of such a request in their current situation.

"Sorry for not letting you know." Juhoon still couldn't meet Martin’s eyes, keeping his focus on the small waves between them.

"It's okay…"

"And sorry for not answering your messages either." The older boy looked even more nervous now, keeping his gaze cast downward, his shoulders hunched slightly against the night's chill. "I wasn't doing too well…"

Martin didn't know what to say, so he just gave a slow nod. He already understood everything he needed to. But he still craved more from Juhoon; he wanted to know how he really was, what he had done during those days, how the comforting time with his family had been.

But he couldn't vocalize a single thing. He just stood there, staring fixedly at Juhoon, his hands gripping the fabric of his own swim trunks tightly underwater, feeling a thick, suffocating lump form in his throat. It was a painful block that kept him from speaking, purely because his heart ached so much.

This was a goodbye.

Those soft-spoken words were Juhoon's discreet, gentle way of telling him that he was leaving for good.

This might be the very last personal conversation they would ever have. And Juhoon didn't seem to have anything else to say to him.

"I…" The older boy's voice dropped, turning heavy and strained. "I think I'm gonna get out now…"

Juhoon finally turned his back, taking the first dragging step toward the metal ladder, ready to wave at the taller boy and climb out of that freezing water to never come back.

Until he felt long, freezing fingers wrap swiftly around his wrist, gripping his skin just tightly enough to stop him dead in his tracks.

"Please… Stay." The Canadian's voice was just as shaky and desperate as the hand holding him.

Martin took a few seconds, swallowing down the bitter dread that was drowning him, before he could continue.

"At least stay a little longer…"

The plea sounded so broken, so heavy with a painful sincerity to Juhoon's ears, that it forced him to look back into Martin's eyes. He met those light brown irises, which were looking at him with agonizing intensity.

Juhoon knew damn well that Martin wasn't talking about the pool. He wasn't begging him to stay in the water. Not with the obvious tremor in his hand as he held his wrist with such firmness—yet being so careful not to squeeze too hard or hurt him.

"Martin…" He didn't know what expression he was wearing right then. He didn't know if it was pure exhaustion, shame, or a resigned sorrow. His chaotic mind could only focus on the radiating heat of the younger boy's hand holding him beneath the cold water.

"I'm tired…" He tried to explain himself, but it was suffocating to say it out loud. He didn't want to hurt the boy who had been so sweet, so attentive and gentle with him since his very first day at the company, since his first clumsy vocal and dance lessons.

"I-I know, but…" Martin stumbled over his own words, desperate to cling to the shred of attention he had managed to pull from the older teen. "But the next evaluations are coming up soon… And soon we'll debu—"

"Martin." Juhoon cut him off, his tone freezing over, throwing up an instant wall. "Do you really think I'm going to debut with you guys?"

The question hit the taller boy in a way he hadn't expected. It was sharp and painful enough to make his fingers jolt and finally let go of the older boy's wrist.

"Have you seen the other trainees?" Juhoon's voice carried a mix of raw pain and frustration, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Have you seen what they're like?"

"Just as good as yo—"

"No, they're not." Juhoon spat the words out as if they tasted like acid on his tongue. "Actually… They're way better than me…"

The Korean seemed to be ripping off a band-aid from a deep wound he had been trying to hide for months, a wound that throbbed daily. That was his purest, most cruel truth.

"I'm tired, Martin… I'm exhausted, and I can't take all these practices, all these diets, and these constant evaluations anymore…"

Juhoon turned to fully face Martin, his shoulders slumping under the water, while the taller boy swallowed thickly, trying to contain his own swirling emotions, ready to just stand there and listen to him in silence.

"I miss my home… I miss my family, my friends, I even miss Choco…" He let out a heavy sigh, the sound cracking at the end, before pressing on. "I miss my old routine… Sometimes I feel like I'd be so much happier if I just let go of this whole idol thing, went to a normal college, and got a safe, regular job, you know?"

Martin had absolutely no idea how to react or what to reply. It was the first time he had ever seen Juhoon speak so much all at once, tearing down his walls and opening up in such a raw, genuine way. And before the Canadian could even think of something to say, Juhoon kept going, his voice dropping lower, turning shy and thoroughly ashamed.

"And besides… You four are absurdly better than me… You guys have been training here for years and you're so damn good." Juhoon's nose was redder than ever against the night's chill, and small sniffles began to interrupt his speech. "I really don't think I'll ever be able to reach your level, you know? It's all so hard for me, my head and my body are already so, so tired, do you get it?"

That was the exact moment Martin noticed Juhoon's voice begin to waver and tremble, becoming even quieter and muffled by the impending tears.

"And I get tired so fast from everything… Everything leaves me so drained. Maybe my body just isn't built for this whole idol thing. I'm too slow…"

Now, the Korean's eyes were visibly red and swollen, overflowing with anguish. Juhoon was using that moment, that single quiet opening he had, to finally bid a proper farewell to Martin and pour out everything that had been eating away at his chest during all those months of relentless pressure.

He was taking advantage of the emptiness of that pool, of the safe, comfortable solitude between him and Martin in that nighttime recreation area, to dump all his insecurities and feelings of inadequacy onto the younger boy.

"I-I don't think I deserve any of this… I really don't believe I'm worthy of this spot… And I won't deserve the fans' love, I can't be loved like this…"

Juhoon could no longer hold back his repressed emotions. He felt stupidly embarrassed and self-conscious for being a nearly grown man crying in front of another guy, and even more so for exposing himself, for being so raw and vulnerable in front of Martin, of all people.

He had only meant to explain to the taller boy why he was leaving. It wasn't supposed to turn into this: him, unable to speak properly, sobbing quietly, letting fat, heavy, hot tears spill uncontrollably from his eyes. They tracked down his cheeks, dropping freely and blending into the freezing vastness of the pool water.

Juhoon refused to look at Martin in the pathetic state he was in. He could barely see the water surrounding his body, his vision completely blurred by the heavy drops clinging to his eyelashes.

He desperately wanted to stop feeling this way. He hastily yanked his hands out of the water, rubbing his eyes harshly to try and stem the tears, but he couldn't. It seemed that the harder he fought it, the worse it got.

The cruel thought hammered relentlessly in his head: He wasn't worthy of being there. He wasn't deserving of the support he would receive if he ever debuted with Martin and the other guys.

His breathing was erratic and heavy, panting endlessly as his chest rose and fell almost painfully against the water's surface. He couldn't stifle the short sobs, the quiet whimpers of frustration. The thoughts played on a hellish loop in his mind: He never should have had the stupid idea to become a trainee.

He never should have met Martin, nor gotten so close to him.

He never should have even entertained the possibility that, someday, he would be worthy of everything he was experiencing.

The shame of crying was crushing, but his urge to break down, to simply let himself shatter, was stronger. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to cry copiously in front of the younger boy, having absolutely no idea if Martin was judging him, if he was pitying him, if he was embarrassed by him, or, worst of all, disappointed in Juhoon's cowardly reaction.

But before he could open his eyes to find out how Martin was looking at him, he felt the Canadian's hands searching for his own. Martin held Juhoon's wrists, his large hands still trembling, but with an absurd level of care and reverence, seemingly waiting for some kind of silent permission from the brunette in that moment of breaking.

And whatever Martin wanted to do, Juhoon simply yielded. He let him pull his hands back under the water, feeling the Canadian's thumbs caress the skin of his fingers. Martin spent a few seconds just doing that, transmitting a silent warmth while Juhoon continued to fall apart in front of him. Until, in a slow, deliberate movement, he pulled Juhoon's small hands, dragging the older boy's entire body closer to his own with all the care and tenderness in the world.

And once he was inches away from the Canadian, Juhoon felt the damp warmth of large arms wrapping around him, holding his shoulders and back with an incredible gentleness. Martin held him hesitantly, almost as if he were afraid of breaking him, of invading his space too much, or of hurting the boy any further.

But it was the moment Juhoon buried his face in his chest, soaking his bare skin with hot tears and muffling his gasps and sobs against his torso, that Martin finally relaxed his muscles, fully surrendering to the warmth of that sheltering embrace. He held the brunette softly in his arms, resting his chin on top of Juhoon's head, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of his hair, closer to him than ever before.

It was the first time they had hugged like this, and Martin never would have guessed that their bodies would fit together so perfectly. They felt like two puzzle pieces that had been lost in separate corners for far too long and were now, finally, finding each other.

Martin tried to rub his back with a care he rarely showed for anything else in life. He wanted to make it clear, even silently through his touch, that it was okay to cry. Truthfully, he wanted to cry himself right then; he just couldn't, and that dry lump lodged in his throat was much more painful and uncomfortable than he had ever imagined.

Martin's hands still trembled slightly as they moved in circles over the wet fabric of Juhoon's t-shirt.

He simply let the older boy soak his chest with his tears, until Juhoon's breathing steadied and his crying gradually subsided, until his sobs were no longer the only sound filling the solitude of that pool.

"Jju…" Martin whispered softly against his dark hair, knowing the older boy would hear him at this proximity. He weighed his words carefully before continuing. "I know it's hard to accept or believe this right now, but…"

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage.

"You've been working so hard, way harder than any other trainee…" He spoke with a soft voice, never stopping his sweet caresses on Juhoon's back. "You've improved faster than any of us, and you're doing the impossible to keep up with this insane pace. You just don't see how much you've already improved… But I see it. I see how much you've progressed and grown."

Martin gently pushed Juhoon's shoulders back, just enough to look directly into his face, which was still a bit puffy, flushed, and damp from his recent breakdown.

Slowly, Martin let his hands slide off those narrow shoulders, traveling up the line of his neck until they reached his cold cheeks, delicately cradling Juhoon's face between his large palms.

"And… there's no such thing as working hard to be loved. No one loves anyone out of effort. People are going to love you and see your potential for exactly who you already are…"

Juhoon was staring at him, utterly captivated. Even with his eyes red and trembling, he didn't tear his dark irises away from Martin's for a single second.

"Didn't you tell me about a book that said people worry too much about how they want to receive love, and not about how they want to give it?" Martin let out a weak, breathy chuckle, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, trying to subtly show that he always paid attention and remembered everything Juhoon told him, even the random philosophical ramblings about the books he read.

Martin was now caressing Juhoon's face with his thumbs, wiping away the last salty tears with a stupid amount of care and reverence.

"Even right now, whether you debut or not… You already deserve to be loved, Jju."

The Korean's round, dark eyes shined up at Martin, damp and reflective under the dim blue light hovering over the water. It was a look of complete surrender, and so, so inviting that it made Martin's shoulders tense up again, his heart galloping frantically in his chest.

Juhoon remained frozen, just looking at him intently in silence. He was so close to the taller boy that his warm, pleasant breath lightly fanned across Martin's skin, and that alone was enough to send shivers down every nerve ending in the Canadian's body.

Only then, in a slow, calculated movement, did Juhoon trail his eyes down Martin's face, stopping exactly on his lips. He analyzed them as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world, and God, Martin felt like he might go into cardiac arrest just from that gaze. He stopped caressing the older boy's face instantly, paralyzed.

"Your lips…" Juhoon started to speak, his voice so hushed and breathy that even Martin, who was right there, struggled to catch it. "They're pale. They look almost…"

He tilted his head slightly, thinking for a moment before finishing with a sigh.

"…blue."

Martin swallowed hard. He really didn't know what to do, what to answer, or how to breathe. He was completely at Juhoon's mercy, willing to accept and give whatever the older boy wanted to do or ask of him in that exact moment.

"I've… I've been in here for a while, you know?" Martin tried to force a light, nervous laugh, desperately trying to justify his cold-induced pallor and cut through the electric tension crackling in the air. Jesus…

And then, finally, Juhoon's small arms emerged from the water, cold and damp against the night breeze. He stretched upward, getting on his tiptoes until his arms looped around Martin's warm neck, anchoring the Canadian there in a way that was as sweet as it was possessive.

Martin was so mesmerized, so utterly dazed by having Juhoon pressed against him, holding him with those slender arms and looking at him with such intense focus, that he couldn't move. He just watched the boy close his eyelids with agonizing slowness and lean in, just enough so that Martin could vividly feel the texture of those plump, incredibly soft lips press a slow, innocent, and devoted kiss right to the corner of his mouth. It was a subtle, lethal tease.

And that was all it took to break the dam of Martin's sanity. He couldn't take it anymore.

The brown-haired boy acted purely on instinct, grabbing Juhoon's face in his hands again with desperate urgency, the Korean's soft cheeks squished under his large palms. Martin closed his eyes and surged forward all at once, capturing Juhoon's mouth. He finally felt the perfect, electric fit of Juhoon's lips pressed flush against his own.

For a few long seconds, they just kept their lips pressed together forcefully, without any movement, without any bold advancements. They were just feeling it, savoring and basking in the electric high of finally doing something they had craved and fantasized about for so many long months.

It was a simple touch, but it was more than enough to leave Martin's entire body feeling lethargic and, at the same time, in a wild state of euphoria, his blood running hot beneath his goosebump-covered skin.

And it was only after processing the shock of that moment that Juhoon, still completely inexperienced and curious about this overwhelming new dynamic between them, began to move his soft lips against Martin's. He did it without any rush, in an extremely slow and affectionate way, sighing softly, letting the Canadian get used to the wet slide of his mouth, so that he could mirror the movement with the same lightness and eagerness to explore.

Martin felt himself melting, his knees going weak under the touch of Juhoon's lips. It was almost ridiculous how much power the other boy held over him, but it felt so desperately good.

Juhoon's lips were so absurdly soft and pillowy that it was genuine torture for Martin to have to reign in his instincts and return that sweet kiss with the same gentleness, caution, and care. Martin wanted to sink into the softness of that mouth, wanted to devour him with urgency and intensity. He wanted to feel his tongue tangle with Juhoon's, wanted to explore the wet heat inside, wanted to taste him. Martin wanted to kiss him ravenously.

Truthfully, there were a lot of other things he wanted to do with Juhoon, but he had to hold his breath and hold himself back.

Juhoon was still in a sensitive, fragile state, and Martin, despite being a hormone-driven teenager, still needed to be gentle, patient, and sweet with the boy in his arms.

And, being honest with himself, the taller boy was already stupidly happy and satisfied just being able to languidly kiss the lips of the boy he liked, to caress his warm face, to trace his jaw and wet neck with his hands, and to press long, soft pecks against Juhoon's plush lips before diving back in, moving them in perfect sync with the older boy.

They stayed there for long, countless minutes, entirely absorbed in the contact. They savored each other's presence and heat, touching gently under the murky water, not even entertaining the thought that a staff member or a trainee might come looking for them, running the risk of catching them exactly like that—clinging to each other, bodies flush, making out endlessly and passionately in that illuminated pool.

And honestly, Martin couldn't care less about any of that. If the world ended right there, so be it. He was finally holding and kissing the boy he liked. The boy who was at imminent risk of walking out of his life, the boy he had been pining over for months.

When Juhoon unfortunately had to break the connection to gasp for air, pulling back just a fraction from Martin, they were both panting heavily. The Korean felt terrifyingly lighter, his chest swarming with butterflies, making no move to untangle his hands from the taller boy's wet nape.

And now that Jju's face was perfectly visible to Martin again, the Canadian was irreversibly hypnotized. Juhoon looked at him with pure wonder. His doe eyes were shining, and his lips—which were naturally plump and soft—looked redder and more radiant than ever from the friction of their kisses. Martin was struggling with all his might not to give in to the primal urge to grab the boy again and kiss him senseless.

"Thank you…" Juhoon breathed out in a panting whisper, a goofy, shy, and genuine smile breaking across his face. Looking directly into his eyes, he felt profoundly comforted and cherished with Martin wrapping him up so warmly against the cold water.

"Don't leave, please…" The brown-haired boy ignored the gratitude and pleaded, his voice thick with desperation and his gaze begging, probing. "I won't be able to handle seeing another person leave…"

Juhoon couldn't even open his mouth to speak or argue.

"I won't be able to bear it if you go."

The declaration might have sounded overly dramatic, but it was the saddest, rawest truth for the Canadian. Martin had been locked up in that company for years, dedicating his entire life to this. He had been there so long that he had met dozens of trainees who shared his dream. He had formed deep friendships with so many boys, people he had grown fiercely attached to, only for them to fail the evaluations a few months later, pack their bags, and leave. Leaving him behind, all alone in the hallways of Big Hit.

Martin had learned to settle for the monotonous, serious company of the adult music producers—men who were always there to demand results, but who never truly understood his vulnerabilities, his sudden mood swings, and the invisible aches of being a child and, later, a lonely teenager growing up in captivity.

Martin was bitterly used to the loneliness. He was used to being the only pre-teen wandering aimlessly through the closed studios of that company while the world spun on outside.

But when Juhoon arrived, with his quiet demeanor and that understanding gaze, everything changed. Martin had experienced so many temporary friendships there, but with Kim, in just a matter of months, he had forged an absurdly strong, special bond that he had never had with anyone else. A bond he wasn't willing to watch unravel.

And, agonizing over that thought, Martin continued to spill everything he had been bottling up, his voice still insecure, raw, and trembling.

"I know I've lived very little outside of this company… And I know that sometimes I get upset and desperate over things way more than I'd like to, or than I should…"

It was humiliating to admit his flaws and immaturity out loud to someone he admired so much, but he needed Juhoon to know. He needed to keep going.

"But I never got to live those simple experiences that other guys our age have, you know? I don't know what the life of a normal guy out there is like…"

Martin felt his own eyes burn with frustration as he spoke, vulnerability oozing from every pore.

"I never got to experience normal, stupid things, like, I don't know, going out to eat all kinds of junk food without worrying about my weight, climbing some badass mountain with my friends on the weekend, chatting about nothing with different people at school, traveling without a care with the people I like…"

That was a lonely, depressing truth for him. He had grown up so, so isolated from the real world that for years he had to resort to whatever books he could find to pathetically try to understand how other people felt, what went on in the minds of normal society.

But still, that wasn't, and never would be, enough. Reading about life wasn't enough to help him understand why the other boys always ended up abandoning him, constantly leaving him behind, broken, in that place.

"And… I feel like this utter lack of experience with the outside world makes me freak out sometimes…" Martin lowered his voice, turning his flushed face away from Juhoon's deeply comforting gaze, dying of embarrassment over his own insecurities. "I overthink way too much, I create problems that don't even exist, I get trapped in my own racing thoughts, and suddenly nothing feels right! And it fucking sucks!"

Martin sucked in a breath, taking a small moment to collect himself and wrap up his chaotic train of thought.

"But I feel like… when I talk to you…" He gestured vaguely with his hand underwater, not even knowing how to put it properly into words. "Everything seems to clear up. It feels like things just calm down…"

He felt incredibly exposed, on the verge of a sob, even though he had trained his whole life to be strong and found it exceedingly difficult to cry in front of others. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the dark, murky water lapping at the edge around him, noticing how the water agitated by his body seemed turbulent and loud, while the smaller, circular ripples hugging Juhoon's slender torso beside him were incredibly small, peaceful, and slow.

"Sometimes I feel exactly like the crashing, turbulent waters of a tsunami… while you're like the peaceful, gentle waves that I need so much." He blurted it all out at once, turning his head completely away, well aware that his cheeks were burning a furious red after saying something so visceral, explicit, vulnerable, and, God, so horribly stupid.

A thick, almost tangible silence instantly settled between them. He had finished everything he had to say. He had laid his heart out on a silver platter.

Martin was mortified, trying to physically shrink himself while glaring at the tiles at the bottom of the pool. Still unable to turn his face back to Juhoon and muster the courage to look at him directly, he stuttered:

"W-well, what I mean to say with all of that is th—"

His panicked, rambling speech was abruptly cut off the second a pair of delicate, wet hands grabbed his burning cheeks, yanking his face downward with surprising force and dragging him ruthlessly toward Juhoon. The older boy then stole another kiss from him, this time a firmer, wet, and soft peck right over his parted lips, effectively sealing and silencing whatever other insecure nonsense Martin was about to spew.

The physical contact was brief, but it was enough to completely short-circuit Martin's mind once again, leaving him static and shell-shocked by the affectionate and wonderfully unexpected move.

Juhoon let out a small, crystalline giggle that echoed across the water the moment he unfortunately pulled back from Martin's numb lips again.

"You're so cheesy sometimes." Juhoon teased, continuing to laugh softly, this time genuinely amused by the panicked, bright red, and utterly flustered expression on the brunette's face. His thumbs were still stroking circles into Martin's cheekbones. "Thank you, Martin…"

The Canadian, still processing what he had just heard, instantly scrunched his face into a pout, maintaining a childish, indignant expression on his wet lips. His incredibly rosy cheeks contrasted sharply with his defensive posture, still being soothed and caressed by Juhoon's cold fingers.

He wasn't cheesy! He just wanted to be honest about his feelings with Jju!

But beneath the soft laughter, Juhoon had truly listened to every single painful word Martin had spoken. He had already absorbed, reflected upon, and perfectly understood the sheer magnitude of what the Canadian meant by all of it. The Korean pondered all those insecurities without tearing his eyes away from him for even a second, keeping a fond, knowing, and adorable smile gracing his pretty face.

Juhoon took advantage of the brief moment of levity and their proximity while they were relaxed and smiling to gaze firmly into Martin's shining eyes once more. This time, he looked with that same false naivety and dangerous innocence from before, magnetizing him.

And Edwards, being the weak boy easily subdued by the other's charms that he was, couldn't tear his eyes away, trapped in the spell of that deeply captivating and surrendered gaze. He yielded, little by little and almost unconsciously, to the shorter boy's pull, without Jju even needing to issue an order, say a word, or put in much effort. Martin was already entirely at his mercy, eating right out of the palm of Juhoon's hand again.

Without daring to sever the invisible thread of that dark, sinfully inviting eye contact, Juhoon reached out his arms once more, his fingers digging into Martin's broad, bare shoulders under the cold water, pulling the younger boy's body even closer to his own.

And Martin yielded to the older boy's strength without offering an ounce of resistance. He leaned in, arching his entire body weight forward so he could be perfectly level with Juhoon's face, his eyes already fluttering shut in anticipation as he leaned in blindly. Ready and desperate to receive that jolt of electricity and affectionate touch one more time.

And that was how, for the third time on that highly unusual night, the two of them were kissing in the partial darkness of that empty pool. But, unlike the previous touches, this time it wasn't like the first tense, studied, and somewhat rigid kiss they had initially shared to test the waters, nor was it remotely like the quick, cheeky peck Juhoon had given him to shut him up and tease him.

It was an urgent, open-mouthed, starving, heavy collision. It was loaded with the weight of all the confusing, desperate feelings Martin had just confessed, being fiercely returned by Juhoon. The kiss carried a raw, repressed desire that they had been lugging around on their backs and in their chests for far longer than they could ever imagine.

The Canadian, tasting approval, couldn't hold himself back anymore, dropping the act of the patient good boy he had been playing earlier. Damn it, he had already swallowed his pride, he had already made it so abundantly clear with his words how much he liked Juhoon. He already felt so vulnerable, so exposed, that he felt he deserved more.

He kissed him now in a deliciously wanton way, exploring the heat. Pulling back only for insufficient milliseconds just to suck, lick the skin, and bite down on Juhoon's soft, plush lips without an ounce of shame, before diving right back in to smash and mold his mouth against the smaller boy's with predatory hunger. And Martin spontaneously combusted feeling Juhoon melt, arch his back, and completely dissolve under the mild aggression of his touch, sighing and proving to be just as needy and surrendered to the kiss as he was.

Fueled by youthful adrenaline, Martin seized that chaotic moment to finally, after spending so much time dreaming of this, desiring so fervently to have the courage to do it, reach down and plunge his large hands under the freezing water. He grabbed the sides of Juhoon's waist, slipping his fingers underneath the fabric of the white shirt that billowed loosely underwater. He felt the Korean's incredibly soft, smooth, goosebump-covered skin beneath the surface.

Holy shit. Martin felt like he might actually collapse and lose whatever breath he had left during that kiss just from the texture of that hot skin against his fingertips.

He felt so intoxicated and euphoric from finally feeling, so directly and possessively, the sweet, narrow, delicate curve of Jju's waist firmly under his hands, that he thought he might start drooling or groaning audibly into the kiss at any damn moment.

Driven by instincts he didn't even know how to control yet, Martin didn't even realize when his body took over and he began to drag Juhoon to the rhythm of the kiss, refusing to separate. He pushed the lighter body with his hands on his waist, cutting through the water's resistance, advancing until he cornered him and pinned him roughly against the cold tiled wall of the pool edge, trapping him there with no escape. He left Jju's small, delicate body sandwiched between Martin's chest and the harsh friction of the blue tiles against his back.

Martin relished the control over his hyung's shivering body with blind desire. He dragged his calloused hands over the sensitive skin of his upper ribs, marking his territory, and trailed his fingers down with firm greed until they met the curve of his hips, squeezing the soft skin with blatant possessiveness. Trailing his hands dangerously low until his fingers brushed the tempting, wide, wet waistband of Juhoon's swim shorts. But Martin clenched his jaw mid-kiss, a sliver of sanity warning him that he was still trying incredibly hard not to cross the acceptable lines for their current situation and location—it was still too early, and far too risky.

Fighting against his own body, he only let his exploring fingers map the areas he knew were safe territory. And he continued, tracing a path with trembling hands to encircle and squeeze the base of his hyung's curvy lower back.

The possessive grip on Juhoon's curve made the older boy lose his footing and let out a breathless, trembling gasp straight into Martin's mouth, and, fuck, that low, guttural sound only acted as fuel, urging Martin to melt even further, increasingly insatiable, against the other's lips.

The Canadian was yielding dangerously to the uncontrollable urge to keep dragging his greedy hands over all the hidden curves of Juhoon's shivering back, reverently exploring every wet inch of his torso his arms could reach, despite the annoying barrier of the hard pool wall restricting their movements and pressing against them both.

Juhoon's breathing turned heavy, his chest rising and falling erratically with every new, burning touch he received. He was giving in to the heavy petting in a shameful way, which drastically impaired his own mental process of keeping the situation under control while eagerly kissing him back. And, fuck, Martin's splayed hands were so disproportionately large and firm, it was an overwhelming, intoxicating feeling to be cornered and handled by his touch with such hunger, with such explicit possession underwater.

But, despite the mind-numbing tension, Juhoon was still an infatuated teenager at the peak of his own repressed desires, his hormones flaring with every bold new caress. He knew, deep down in his conscience, that he couldn't yield so complacently to Martin's increasingly heavy, hot touches all over his torso. If he did, he would either give in entirely or get too turned on, losing control and inevitably creating an extremely awkward, hard-to-hide friction situation between their wet bodies pressed together in the shared water.

And his mind snapped to attention exactly when Martin dared to change the route. When the Canadian stopped just possessively stroking and squeezing his back and vulnerable lower spine, and dangerously slid his long fingers to wrap around and trail up Juhoon's flat stomach, getting ready to maliciously circle his hip bones with the sides of his thumbs or play with his small navel.

That was when Juhoon couldn't take it anymore. That was his danger limit. If Martin didn't stop right now and kept advancing with his hands in that provocative way, especially touching such a sensitive area under the water of his shorts, Kim's body would trigger a mortifying, utterly uncontrollable situation between them.

Letting out a shy, frustrated whine that broke the kiss, Juhoon used the solid tile wall behind him for leverage and physical momentum. He shoved against Martin's tense shoulders and heavy body that was practically draped all over him, pushing the taller boy's torso away from his own, shattering the intoxicating friction and disconnecting their wet, painfully swollen mouths with a wet smack.

Martin, still completely dazed by the frenzy and with ragged breaths failing his lungs, didn't back off a hundred percent. Blinded by the withdrawal of the sudden pause, he advanced just enough to steal a few more short, sweet, affectionate pecks against Juhoon's slick, reddened lips, before pulling away from the older boy's face a fraction more—just enough to press a cute, clumsy smooch right on the tip of Juhoon's pretty nose. And only after that final, endearing gesture did he finally step out of the other's personal space, pulling his shoulders back against the water.

From this new angle, with enough space to breathe, Martin could clearly see the boy in front of him. He stared at Jju's excessively flushed, wet, and trembling face, still sighing and panting with parted lips, trying to recover the oxygen lost during whatever it was they had just done in those last submerged minutes. But even through the embarrassment, neither of them dared to break the intense, electric eye contact between them.

He couldn't explain if it was the rush of endorphins he was feeling after making out with Juhoon so intensely, or if it was the afterglow of finally opening up to his hyung, of laying out his rawest feelings, but…

Juhoon looked even more beautiful in his eyes.

Everything the Canadian could see of Juhoon under that blue pool light right then was a breathtaking, ethereal vision. From the long, dark locks of his silky hair that were now messy, sticking haphazardly to his face and neck, to his clothes, wrinkled and deliciously plastered, almost sheer against his body from the freezing water. His naturally soft, youthful face, now beautifully painted with a mutual, bashful blush from the kissing. His mouth—wet, inviting, and swollen from the friction of their heavy make-out session—already beginning, to Martin’s utter ruin, to curve back into a lovely, soft, and fond smile at the corners.

And finally, those dark eyes that seemed infinitely more reflective, intense, and radiant than ever before in his life, looking back at him in such a welcoming, enchanting way that it stole whatever oxygen was left in the taller boy's lungs.

Martin was so, so in love with him. There was no other feeling that could possibly describe what he was experiencing right then.

"I…" Juhoon was the first to find his voice and enough breath to fill the panting silence between them. "I'll try to stick around a little longer, okay?"

He paused, sighing as he tried to sort through his own turbulent feelings about the future waiting for them, and pressed on.

"At least hold out until the end of this evaluation…" He finished, trying to force his expression and his still-shaky voice to seem much firmer, rational, and serious. "And…"

He brought his small hands above the water, gently caressing Martin's broad, tense shoulders in a soothing manner as he finished speaking, his doe eyes turning glassy and trembling with emotion once again.

"And even if, worst-case scenario, I really don't pass the final evaluation for the group lineup and end up leaving the company… We can still promise to keep in touch, okay?" He offered a sweet smile, imagining the possibilities of a life where Martin didn't leave him behind. "We can still plan to travel together, go out and eat all kinds of different food, or even, who knows, produce and make our own music together too…"

Martin didn't even need half a second to think before he was nodding quickly, frantically, his eyes wide and his chest soaring with euphoria just daring to imagine, live, and envision a future doing all those things together.

"I just can't promise the part about climbing a mountain with you, because that's asking way too much of me!" Juhoon broke the heavy, tearful mood with a joke, and neither of them could hold it back, shattering the tension and letting out a shared, low, breathy laugh that echoed through the dark courtyard.

Amidst the warm, shared laughter, Martin couldn't help himself. He reached out his arms again, pulling the older boy by the waist and wrapping him tightly against his chest in a crushing, unmoving hug, feeling perfectly safe in that comforting warmth radiating from the smaller body.

"Thank you, hyung." Martin spoke, his voice raspy now, in a low, devoted, and dangerously soft whisper right against his ear, his lips brushing the other's lobe as he lazily rested his chin on the warm curve of Juhoon's shoulder. His heart overflowed with pure, genuine relief the moment he finally felt Juhoon's matching arms wrap around his back, sealing that silent promise within their mutual embrace.

They felt inexplicably lighter, freed from the crushing doubt and insecurity from before, and happier than ever.

Martin felt like the air flowed through his lungs more easily, like he could actually breathe much better, his chest unburdened, without the shackles of anxiety and the fears of the future suffocating him like they had been.

They stayed quiet for long, precious seconds, locked in that wet embrace, lost in a silence that, this time, required no words for them to perfectly understand what the other was feeling. Both of their chests rose and fell calmly against the dark pool water, their breathing falling into a relaxed sync as they tangled together, seeking all the warmth possible in the middle of such a freezing night.

Until the older boy had to ruin the cozy magic of the moment with a shiver, his teeth beginning to chatter uncontrollably from the cold, unable to endure the chilling friction of the damp swimwear freezing his skin any longer.

"Dude…" Juhoon called him in a hoarse whisper, cutting through the silence. "Let's get out of here now, this water is freezing…"

"For real."

They finally pulled apart from the hug, breaking the enveloping heat of their bodies. But they made up for the uncomfortable distance by keeping their hands firmly clasped together on the way, their fingers intertwined as they swam hurriedly to the pool ladder and finally climbed out, shivering, from the unbearable cold.

But as soon as they stepped out of the pool, the two of them were hit with the harsh, cruel reality check of heavy lethargy combined with the pure exhaustion of having spent so much time swimming. Their bodies began to twitch in uncontrollable spasms, shivering to the bone.

They grabbed their towels tossed on the nearby lounge chairs and, rushing and panting, dried off in the worst way possible. Already bundled up in the fabrics like enormous cocoons, they bolted, running together, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation under the moonlight, making the quick trek back across the frosted grass to the safe, heated building of the condominium complex nearby where they both lived as trainees.

Reaching the correct floors, they finally separated with a warm, much calmer, and lingering hug in the hallway, loaded with silent promises that the very next day they would find some subtle way to sneak away and meet in the hidden corners of the company.

When they had to part ways toward their respective dorm spaces without drawing any suspicious attention or risking getting caught by the other boys and adults around.

Martin had finally, officially, and perfectly ended that day. It had been long, dark years since he had felt this incredible, fantastic, intoxicating peace of closing his eyes and going to bed feeling so understood, so loved, and truly happy.

But, after taking a nice, hot shower before bed and putting on his sleepwear, he observed his own reflection curiously in the mirror of the shared dorm bathroom, noticing one small detail.

His lips weren't pale anymore. They were no longer blue.

“He was the last to join our group, and when that happened, I was really happy.”