Work Text:
The leather of Yudai’s fit for the shooting sits tightly against his frame, it's itching his neck but he's trying hard not to scratch at himself, or worse, accidentally mess up his hair by running his hand through it from the frustration and disappoint his hair stylist. He's inevitably supposed to be the most perfect member, as the eldest, emotion-control wise. Yudai has never let his discomfort slip to the public eye.
His reflection stares back at him, so unfamiliar. The poker face doesn't sit well right with him. He's always been good at smiling, but the pit of his stomach feels weird so he doesn't intend to be so good at it today. Rough fabric rustles from behind as someone's footsteps rushes into the hallway diverting Yudai's attention. He cranes his neck over to look at the owner of this noise and softens without meaning to (it just comes to him like instinct).
The maknae steps forward to stand right beside him, bending a little to fit into the frame of the mirror and fix his bangs. Yudai can't look away but he doesn't process that thought. It comes and goes, as easily as the wind. He looks a little closely, focuses more intricately on how well Maki's been made today. Yudai's impressed, as always, at how the younger seems to reach a level higher of looking... so good every time. Yudai's stomach rumbles with pride. He can't distinguish if it's butterflies or just being infiltrated with a little bit of ease.
Maki has a packet of snacks in hand, he's chewing obnoxiously. Obviously, Yudai just finds it adorable. He won't say that out loud just to be stern. Maki smiles, that familiar one bringing out his dimples so deep Yudai has to refrain from poking them himself, satisfied with how his hair is settling. He straightens up and stares right into his hyung's eyes. “How do I look?”
Yudai can see even more clearly now. How the smokey look on Maki's eyes are newer because he's never had this intensity of a style before. Wow, the stylist must've really gone all out today. Yudai struggles to swallow, in the process, his Adam's apple bobs nervously. He can't tell why he's feeling like this. Maybe... because of the unfamiliarity? Maybe because the twenty year old is staring so attentively with such a fond eagerness towards him? With a glint it almost looked hopeful.
The eye shadow is dark, the eyeliner is sharp and the fake piercings... Yudai's skin chills. Maki juts out his lower lip into a pout before abruptly jumping directly into Yudai's sight. As a result, Yudai snaps out of it and almost slams the back of his head against the wall behind him. “Gods, Maki...” He breathes out like it's Maki's fault he practically can't stop jumping whenever the younger is too close.
“What?” Maki whines. Yudai's heart calms a beat down, because he's heard it a thousand times. “Do I have something on my face? Hair? I knew it! It must be the new style, they made my eyes look like charcoal incarnate. I said it might be a little intense, but who am I? I've always been into trying new stuff,” As Maki rambles on about it, Yudai's mind blurs everything else except Maki into the background. Visually, it's like taking a photo in portrait mode. In just a few seconds, reality is reeling him back onto solid ground when Maki quiets down.
Yudai notices it might be because he still hasn't responded to Maki's main question. And it seems, Maki wasn't so keen on leaving without an answer. Clearing his throat, “You look... good. Yeah, looks good. It's okay, Maki.” His answer isn't entirely disappointing. Supported by the fact that he really means it. It's a surprise he even managed to say anything at all. Because the new-found look looks striking on him. Maki appears to have expected more but he breaks out into a grin, the ever determined one showing off his teeth and gum.
Yudai hopes that the clueless boy walks off before his self control breaks and he's cupping Maki's face in his hands and squeezing them cheeks like he used to when Maki was younger and shier than he (never) is nowadays, until his lips look like a baby duck's beaks. The prayer gets answered. “Thank you, K-hyung.”
‘Arigato, K-hyung.’
It sing-songs into Yudai's heart, swirls around his ribcage, sends an undeniably weird warmth into his stomach and a rush of blood to his face. The warmth from Maki's shoulder brushing against his is gone but something stays. Phantom, intangible, invisible but nonetheless inviting and irresistible. But Yudai's always been good at resistance, when he's being stern, or disciplining someone else. His heart locks like a cage.
Yudai brings a hand up to his face and feels the hot skin, his hands are stone cold. The contrast is indigestible. He assumes he's still seeing Maki under the same light he used to when he was just a younger member under Yudai's guidance.
---
The sound of crickets don't reach the dorm flat, yet, it plays automatically in Yudai's head like a default background noise. He'd been tossing and turning in bed for the past forty minutes. The dorm is quiet except for the occasional shouts from somewhere coming from Taki directed at Harua. And the occasional sound of Yuma's giggles. It's wicked because he's probably in the middle of teasing someone. Yudai's head just renders everything into the background. He can't quite focus on one thing; his mind is running.
It circles back to Maki. Maki. Is he sleeping? Yudai hasn't heard from him all night ever since they returned. Is he doing a live with Nico? He checks the app, nothing. Yudai catches himself red-handed. Ah... Why is he doing this? He's never thought of anyone, not even himself, this deeply.
If Maki's the youngest, that makes him one of the priorities in Yudai's life, what is the thing that is concerning him so much?
None of the useful braincells left in him has any logical answer. Frustration builds up again and he shoves a pillow onto his face.
The pressure of it lulls him into a bridge, somewhere between consciousness and sleep. The kind where you can practically hear everything around you but it feels like you're dreaming.
An hour later, Yudai finds himself nodding awake on his side. He's facing the door but not opening his eyes. The door creaks open, Yudai isn't expecting anyone at this hour. The mattress, to the side of him, dips softly—Yudai can hear it, so closely like he's dissecting every sound, every sensation. Someone climbs into bed next to him, a whiff of the remnant scent of shampoo of the other person's hair and Yudai feels his heart lock onto a beat and holds onto it. Anxiety creeps in; fast-paced.
Soft hair nuzzles into the crook of his neck, an arm comes up to place themselves around his waist like grounding oneself. Yudai feels the warm breaths brushing against his neck. He doesn't need to open his eyes to know it's Maki. When he can feel that the younger has settled next to him, rhythm of breath steady, Yudai relaxes. This is pretty much normal, he shouldn't be so out of his skin. They used to cuddle all the time. It was routine back then, for the youngest of the group to seek his company whenever they slept.
Yudai wraps an arm around the boy's shoulder and tugs him closer. He's more of, anchoring his own beliefs than offering Maki comfort. The belief that everything's fine, it's just the stress of the hectic weeks. Yudai starts to really believe in himself. As he's absentmindedly chanting, in his own head, of the fineness of this—Maki shifts.
He turns full on to his side, presses his back right up against Yudai's front, expecting—seeking to be big-spooned with his size now, before the older can even register it. Below, his lower half brushes against Yudai's lower front. In the most awkward, sensitive part possible, Yudai lets out a harsh breath and breaks out of the contact. He sits up straight, panicked, doesn't turn to look at Maki when the younger softly calls out. “Hyung,”
Without even looking, Yudai can pick apart that it sounds concerned, confused, and so so innocent it kills a part of him inside. Like a shark eating up his insides. The lump in his throat gets bigger. “Just... sleep, Maki. Don't wait up for me.”
Yudai gets out of bed in a flash and rushes to the bathroom. Unbeknownst to him, Maki doesn't do what he's been instructed to do. He slips out of the room with his head bowed but no one's there to see it. Not even Yudai. And that's what hurts the most.
In the cold brackets of the bathroom, Yudai stands on his bare feet, back leaning against the door. His palm is on his chest, fingers curling up to crumple up his t-shirt. His heart squeezes inside the imaginary cage; it's knocking off his breath, uneven.
When his reflection meets his own eyes, Yudai can't even keep his gaze straight a second longer to look back at himself. He feels entirely foreign. He doesn't know what he's feeling. Just the fact that a constant has stirred an inch or even bigger, that the structure he has protected since forever has cracked just a little bit or more. He doesn't know what to name it, or is rather afraid to do so.
His hands meet the cold slippery texture of the sink. Inner cheeks caught between teeth. In the back of his mind, he questions where all this had started. Had he always denied everything related to his feelings in a way that it had always been there or was it an entirely new thing?
One night isn't enough to tell everything. Resistance isn't the answer but Yudai relies on it. Because he was the very image of it. Composed, unable to break, unable to provoke, unyielding—everything that mattered to holding his sanity together.
So, Yudai resists. The only contrast is that he's never run from a problem. He has always tackled an obstacle head on. But this one wasn't an obstacle; it was a warmth so close to him aiming at bleeding his ice down. It was the warmth in the eyes of a certain someone whom Yudai had always held in a safe light.
But that light has shifted onto a different meaning. Going against Yudai's very own beliefs.