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Jongseong flops lifelessly onto Jungwon’s bed, only narrowly avoiding smashing his nose into Jungwon’s knee. Face firmly planted into the comforter, he lets out a muffled groan.
Weverse must be taking up all of Jungwon’s attention, because all he gets in response is a distracted hum and a pat on the head.
“Wonnie,” he moans, “I’m fucked.”
“Is that so?” Jungwon asks half-heartedly. Jongseong can hear him tapping away at his phone.
“Jungwon-ah.”
“Jay-hyung.”
This is going nowhere. Jongseong gets to his knees on the bed and flops again, this time successfully landing on top of Jungwon, trapping him and preventing him from doing anything other than paying attention to him.
“Alright, fine, hyung,” Jungwon says with a sigh. “Why are you fucked?”
“Heeseung-hyung abandoned me for his producer hyungs again.”
He must sound extra pitiful, because Jungwon starts rubbing his back like he’s a baby. It feels nice, so he doesn’t protest. Sometimes it’s nice to be babied, even if it’s by his dongsaeng two years his junior.
“Again, why does that mean you’re fucked?” Jungwon asks. Jongseong can’t see his face from where he’s flopped, but he sounds a little confused, a little exasperated. “Hyung is making his mixtape. Of course he’s working with them.”
“But he’s always with them,” Jongseong complains. “Whenever we don’t have schedules, he’s always running off to them. I feel like I haven’t seen him around the dorm in years.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s like I’m being replaced.”
Jungwon pauses his rubbing to slap the back of Jongseong’s head. “Don’t be silly. Heeseung-hyung could never replace you. 10yearz, right?”
“The only 10 years hyung cares about are guys 10 years older than him.”
Another slap, harder this time.
“Stop being a baby and just talk to him,” Jungwon scolds.
He should have known better than to go to Jungwon to be coddled. Ugh
- - - - - - -
“Hyung!” Jongseong calls out, jogging to catch up to Heeseung after practice. “My dad just told me about this great new restaurant that’s pretty close to the dorms! Want to check it out? Dinner’s on me!”
He knows Heeseung doesn’t have any more schedules today. In fact, he and Heeseung are the only ones that don’t have something going on right after practice. It’s the perfect excuse to go out, just the two of them. Heeseung never turns down a free meal, and after the grueling dance practice they just had he should be starving.
Heeseung turns to face him, and instantly Jongseong feels his heart falling. The look on Heeseung’s face would be difficult to decipher if not for Jongseong’s wealth of experience doing so. His mouth is pulled into an awkward smile that borders on a grimace, one side pulled up slightly to show his gritted teeth. He’s not making eye contact with Jongseong—not that he’s ever good at this, but it’s like he’s not even trying this time—and there’s a furrow between his brows like he’s trying to figure out the best way to let Jongseong down.
“Jongseong-ah,” Heeseung says apologetically, “I’m sorry. I wish I could. It’s just that I already told Apro-hyung that I’d be there tonight.” His hands twist together anxiously.
Jongseong resists the urge to scream. As annoyed as he is at Heeseung’s disappearing act, no need to make him feel worse than he apparently already does.
Still, Jongseong has to try something.
“Please, hyung?” he asks, whipping out the big sad eyes. He almost never pouts like this, so it tends to be more effective. “Can you just go later, after dinner?” He even clasps his hands in front of him like a child begging for a treat.
To his dismay, Heeseung visibly winces. “Sorry, Jeongseong, but we’re on a deadline, and this is the only night he’s free this week.”
Jongseong can feel himself deflating, shoulders going limp as he drags his feet. “Okay,” he says, defeated.
“We’ll find another time!” Heeseung says, sounding almost desperate. “I just can’t tonight.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Jongseong grumbles. “What’s the big deal with this project with Apro-nim anyways?”
Heeseung freezes like a deer in headlights, making Jongseong to stop as well to turn back and look at him. He’s gone pale, and his eyes are flitting everywhere along the hallway except towards Jongseong.
“It’s, ah, it’s something new I’m trying,” he says, but it almost sounds like he’s asking a question, like he’s trying to convince himself of it. “Nothing special.”
“Nothing special, but important enough that you’re spending all of your free time with him.”
“Jongseong—”
“No, it’s okay, hyung. I get it. We’ll do dinner another time,” Jongseong says, and stalks off before Heeseung can respond, leaving him there with a hand outstretched in his direction.
If Jongseong wasn’t worried before, he’s worried now.
- - - - - - -
His next target is Jake. He’s close with Heeseung, he’s close with Jongseong, and most importantly, he’s horrible at keeping secrets.
“I think there’s something up with Heeseung-hyung and all of the producers he works with,” Jongseong says as he starfishes on Jake’s floor later that night. “You’re hyung’s best friend. Has he said anything to you?”
“What do you mean, ‘something’s up?’” Jake asks, not sounding concerned enough for Jongseong’s liking.
“Like, he’s spending way too much time with them. Is he in love with one of them or something?”
A loud guffaw, and then Jake’s face peers over the edge of the bed to look at Jongseong on the floor. His hair is greasy as hell, but then again, Jongseong hasn’t shaved in three days and scraggly scruff is starting to grow in, so who’s he to judge?
“Ha,” Jake says, managing to make the single syllable sound sarcastic. “Heeseung-hyung, our Heeseung-hyung, in love with one of his producer friends. Are you crazy?”
“He was acting super shifty when I invited him out for dinner tonight!” Jongseong insists. “Like, he wouldn’t look me in the eye and then got all weird when I asked what they were working on! What else am I supposed to think?”
Jake pulls a pillow from his bed and throws it down on Jongseong’s face, hard. As he splutters into the pillowcase, Jake responds.
“You’re supposed to trust hyung! You’ve known him for ten years! Why would he lie to you?” he sounds indignant, like he’s offended on Heeseung’s behalf. Damn, this is backfiring.
“I just don’t know what else could be going on!” Jongseong cries out, throwing the pillow back towards Jake. “He’s always gone with one of them and I feel like he’s avoiding me!”
Jake just sighs in response. “I think you’re overthinking things,” he says. “Stop freaking out.”
Jongseong can tell he won’t get any further with Jake. Another dead end.
- - - - - - -
After ditching Jake, Jongseong spends the rest of the evening stewing in his room. Is he the only one that sees what’s going on? Is everyone else in on it? It’s like no one is taking him seriously.
He hears the click of the lock to their dorm and then the door opening. Heeseung’s back. Glancing over at the clock, he can see it’s just past one in the morning; he didn’t realize it’d gotten so late. Suspiciously late for Heeseung to be returning.
Jongsoeng makes a split second decision and rolls out of bed, opening his door to see Heeseung about to sneak past his room. At the sight of Jongseong, he stops in place, then glances between him and the bathroom, like he’s considering making a break for it. The tips of his ears and nose are still red from the cold, and he has a beanie shoved over his messy hair.
“Rather late to be getting back from a producing session, hyung,” Jongseong says before Heeseung can escape. His voice is more even than he expected, cold and level.
Heeseung opens his mouth to respond and then seems to think better of it, lifting his shoulders in a shrug instead. He gives Jongseong a half smile with guilt written all over it, then starts edging his way to the bathroom. No, he’s not getting out of this confrontation this easily.
Jongseong steps out of his room, between Heeseung and the bathroom. “I don’t think so, hyung. What’s been keeping you so long?”
Glancing at his face and determining he’s serious, Heeseung clears his throat and rasps out, “Just working on some songs.”
It sounds like he’s swallowed a bucket of gravel and is trying to speak through it. Jongseong is aghast. They’ve all been known to push their voices while recording, but he’s never heard Heeseung this bad after a recording session before. He knows better than to let it get to this point.
Without another word, Jongseong grabs Heeseung’s hand and tugs him in the direction of the kitchen, against Heeseung’s hoarse complaints that “It’s not that bad, Jongseong.”
He forces Heeseung into a seat and bustles around filling the kettle and flicking it on, grabbing a mug and a teabag, and fishing out their ever-depleted bottle of honey.
“I don’t know what you were doing in that studio,” Jongseong says with a glance at Heeseung, who somehow looks even guiltier, “but you know better than to let your throat get like this.”
“It’ll be better in the morning,” Heeseung protests scratchily. “I’ve had worse before.”
The water is boiling, so Jongseong distracts himself from his anger by pouring it over the teabag and aggressively stirring in a heaping spoonful of honey.
“So you’re regularly coming back from Apro-nim’s place with a destroyed throat? Great,” he says, slamming down the mug in front of him hard enough that some tea splashes out. He doesn’t care how loud he’s being; after years of living in a dorm together, they’re all heavy sleepers.
“Jongeong-ah, please—”
“I’m going to bed, and you’re going to finish that tea and then have a throat lozenge,” Jongseong says, barreling past Heeseung’s gravelly words. He turns away from him and starts walking out of the kitchen, pausing on the threshold. “I just don’t know what you’re doing, hyung.”
He doesn’t give Heeseung a chance to respond before he leaves.
- - - - - - -
“—and then I walked away,” Jongseong finishes.
He’s sitting on the closed toilet lid with a facemask on while Sunoo is smearing a moisturizer on his face in the mirror next to him. As he finishes his retelling of yesterday, Sunoo groans then says, “Ugh. Men.”
At the moment, Jongseong agrees.
“Yeah. Boys suck.”
He should have come to Sunoo earlier. Sunoo is the best option for a complaining session, any time. He loves to gossip and insists on treating Jongseong to his fancy skincare products, so he’s clearing his mind and skin at the same time. There’s no judgment, just a free space to vent it out.
“Heeseung-hyung has always been avoidant, but this is a lot, even for him,” Sunoo says as he rubs in the last spot of cream. “I wish I could say I was surprised.”
A timer goes off on his phone and he bustles over to Jongseong and peels off the facemask. The cool air on his moist face feels like heaven.
“But he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, you know that,” Sunoo continues. “He just runs away from things instead of confronting them.”
“I know, I know, it’s just more than usual,” Jongseong says. “It’s like he’s hiding something from me. What won’t he tell me?”
Sunoo starts patting his face with some sort of cream. He doesn’t know it is, but he trusts Sunoo won’t fuck up his skin.
“Did you guys fight recently? Is it possible he’s mad at you?”
“Not that I can remember! And he doesn’t seem angry, he just looks guilty every time I manage to corner him. I’m just lost,” Jongseong says. “I want my friend back.”
Sunoo cradles his face in his soft hands.
“Well, if he keeps this up, let me know. He’s afraid of me, I can make him fix things.”
That pulls a chuckle out of Jongseong. It’s true.
“It’ll be okay, hyung,” Sunoo continues, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “It’s Heeseung. He’ll pull his head out of his ass eventually and go back to staring at you when he doesn’t think you’re looking.”
They spend the next hour watching dramas and eating junk food before Sunoo kicks him out, claiming that Sunghoon is forcing him to go out to dinner with him. Jongseong moseys back upstairs and lets himself into an empty dorm. Opening the door to his room, he spots a folded piece of paper on his bed.
Picking it up, all it says is an address and a time, written in Heeseung’s unmistakable scrawl. He recognizes the address immediately: the HYBE building. It seems like Heeseung’s directing him to one of the studios they like to rent out, in a few hours.
Jongseong sighs. Well, he was hoping for Heeseung to stop avoiding him. Hopefully whatever this is clears some things up.
- - - - - - -
Jongseong knocks on the door with his heart pounding out of his chest. He doesn’t know what to expect based on the cryptic note that Heeseung left him earlier, but he’s sure it has something to do with their spats yesterday.
After a moment, the door cracks open, and Heeseung’s head pops out. In contrast to the bedraggled mess he’d been last night, it looks like he put in a lot of effort to clean up, at least from what he can see. His platinum blond hair is neatly styled in loose bangs, Jongseong’s favorite style on him, and it looks like he even has a bit of makeup on, if the way his lips glisten indicates anything.
“Jongseong-ah,” he breathes out, voice smooth and sounding relieved. “Come on in.”
He opens the door wider, revealing the small room absolutely decked out in decorations. Pink and red hearts festoon the walls, pink confetti covers most flat surfaces, the couch has a new heart-shaped pillow, and there’s a massive bouquet of flowers on the desk next to the computer, which is open to an audio-editing program.
Heeseung smiles sheepishly as he grabs Jongseong’s hands and ushers him into the room.
“I know I’ve been the shittiest boyfriend in the world lately,” he says, looking straight into Jongseong’s eyes, “and I’m sorry.”
Jongseong is too stunned to speak, trying to take in Heeseung’s words and the violently pink room.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, or make you worry,” he continues, “but I’m just really bad at keeping secrets.”
“Hyung, what are you talking about?” Jongseong croaks out. “Boyfriend?”
Heeseung freezes in place.
“Yes?” he says slowly. “What are you talking about?”
Jongseong laughs frantically. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on.
“Is this some sort of prank?” he asks hysterically. “Did Riki put you up to this?”
Heeseung leans in close. “Prank? Are you okay, Jongseong?”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on! You avoid me for a week, then leave me a cryptic note, and when I walk in here there’s hearts everywhere and you’re calling me your boyfriend!” By the end, Jongseong is yelling, hands ripped out of Heeseung’s to gesture to the decorations covering the room. “Whatever joke you’re trying to make, it isn’t funny!”
Across from him, Heeseung is looking at him with what Jongseong can only describe as horror. He glances from Jongseong, to the room, to the door, and back, getting paler and paler.
“Jongseong, I—I…” he says shakily. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? Hyung’s sorry, this is nothing.” He starts trying to shove Jongseong out of the room, but he’s trembling as he does so. “Bad joke! We don’t have to talk about it. Sorry!”
“No, what the fuck is going on? I’m not letting you avoid me again,” Jongseong says, standing his ground.
Heeseung takes another look at him and seems to just give up. His shoulders droop and he flops down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.
“It’s Valentine’s day, and I was planning on surprising you with a song I wrote for you,” he says quietly. “Because you’re my boyfriend.”
Jongseong almost doesn’t catch the last part, he’s so thrown off by what Heeseung’s saying. Heeseung thinks he’s his boyfriend?
Jongseong would know if Heeseung was his boyfriend. He’s only been dreaming about it since he was 16.
“Can we please forget about this?” Heeseung asks, sounding broken and looking down at the confetti littering the floor. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just—” a tear runs down his cheek, which he quickly wipes away, “—I just misunderstood things.”
“Hyung—”
“I won’t make it weird, I swear,” Heeseung continues, voice wobbly but not stopping. “This is all my fault, so I promise I’ll go back to normal. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Hyung!” Jongseong shouts. Heeseung flinches, then looks up at him, eyes red and watery.
“Hyung,” he repeats again, quieter this time, “I’m not mad. Not at you, anyways.”
“What?”
“I’m mad at myself for somehow missing that I’ve been dating the guy I’ve been in love with for the past seven years.”
Heeseung just stares, mouth agape as he looks up at Jongseong like he doesn’t understand what’s happening. To be fair, it must be quite a bit of whiplash he’s experienced in the past three minutes.
Jongseong steps closer. Heeseung’s eyes don’t leave his for a moment; it’s the most sustained eye contact he’s had from him maybe ever. Gently, he reaches out and cups Heeseung’s face in his hands, tilting his face up.
For a moment, they just stare at each other. Fans always shout about Heeseung’s big doe eyes, and Jongseong can’t blame them. Red and tear-filled as they are, there’s a sweet innocence to them as he looks up guilelessly at Jongseong. He feels like he could stare into them forever, drowning in the devotion hidden in them.
“Heeseung-hyung,” he says quietly, breathlessly, “can I kiss you?”
Wordlessly, Heeseung nods into Jongseong’s palms, eyes flicking down to Jongseong’s lips and then back up to his eyes.
Honestly, before now Jongseong hadn’t let himself really think about what kissing Heeseung would be like. He isn’t in the habit of torturing himself with the idea of what he could never have. But now, slowly leaning down to meet Heeseung, he doesn’t need to imagine.
Heeseung’s lips are chapped, like he’s been worrying at them, but plush under Jongseong’s. He melts into Jongseong’s hands when their lips meet, like he’s trusting him to hold him up. Jongseong pushes in, tilting Heeseung’s face for a better angle as their mouths slide against each other.
Jongseong could do this forever, holding Heeseung in his hands as he kisses him sweeter than he’s ever been kissed before, but he can’t hold back the thoughts pressing at the forefront of his mind.
Breaking from the kiss, he leans back far enough to see Heeseung’s blissed out expression, eyes still closed as a slight smile graces his face. He moves to sit next to Heeseung on the couch, grabbing his hand in his.
“Hyung,” he says, “as nice as that was, I think we need to sort some things out.”
Heeseung’s eyes snap open and he goes red, covering his face with his free hand and curling in on himself with a groan.
“No, no, don’t be embarrassed,” Jongseong says. “But just… I’m confused. Why did you think we were dating? Since when?”
Still covering his face and looking away from him, Heeseung says, “Please don’t laugh at me.”
Jongseong tugs the hand away from his face, leaning in to look at him. “I won’t, I promise.”
Heeseung looks at him seriously before sighing.
“Remember the Enhypen&Hi when we made jewelry? And you made me a bracelet?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jongseong feels his mouth drop open without his permission.
“Hyung, that was almost five years ago!”
Heeseung tugs his hands free and turns away from him, covering his face again.
“I know! I just thought that it was, I don’t know, a signal. And you were so sweet afterwards! We never talk about feelings and stuff so I thought that was you telling me,” he says, shame coloring his words. His next statement is muffled as he shoves his face into one of the heart-shaped pillows on the couch. “I’m so stupid.”
Jongseong can’t exactly refute that.
“But hyung, it’s been almost five years and we never talked about it? Never kissed? What the hell did you think was going on?”
Heeseung whips around to face him, red as a cherry. It’s cute, with his hair all in a disarray and his usual composure out the window.
“I thought I was dating my best friend! And he was shy and worried of getting exposed, so I followed his lead! I was just happy to have you!”
Jongseong can’t resist kissing him, so he doesn’t, planting a peck on Heeseung’s unsuspecting lips. Heeseung freezes, caught off guard.
“How lucky I am, to have a boyfriend that doesn’t complain about me never kissing him or asking him out on dates,” Jay says. “I need to make up that deficit immediately.”
Heeseung pouts at him. It’s so cute that Jongseong just has to kiss him again. Heeseung seems to be a bit more in control of himself this time, looping his arms around Jongseong’s neck and pulling him close, lips moving smoothly against his.
Jongseong is ready to kiss him for the next hour or two before he remembers. Breaking away abruptly, he says, “Wait! Hyung, you mentioned you wrote me a song?” gleefully.
Arms still looped around Jongseong’s neck, Heeseung has nowhere to hide, this time.
“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “This is all really embarrassing, you know.”
“Please, hyung?” Jongseong says with his best attempt at big pleading eyes.
Heeseung is a weak man and breaks away from their embrace and stands, walking over to the computer. He pauses and turns back to Jongseong, lips red and swollen.
“Remember, this was written as an early fifth anniversary gift.”
A couple of clicks later, and the song begins to play.
It’s different from either of their usual styles. To Jongseong’s surprise, a ballad begins to play, soft piano giving way to muted percussion before an acoustic guitar comes in. The production is simple, but when Heeseung’s voice pierces through the background, the emotion is palpable.
As Jongseong listens, he can’t tear his eyes away from Heeseung. The song is saccharine, dripping in nostalgia and emotion. He almost can’t believe that someone would make a song so full of love directed towards him, had Heeseung not been standing next to the computer refusing to look at him.
The song ends with a sustained vocal run from Heeseung, persisting even as the instrumental ends. He doesn’t know what to think; the song is beautiful, Heeseung’s voice a revelation throughout the track and his influence on the production present throughout.
Jongseong surges out of his seat on the couch to grab Heeseung into a hug. He feels every inch that their bodies press together, intent on crushing them as close as possible. Heeseung wraps his arms around him, embracing him just as tightly.
“I love it,” Jongseong whispers. “I love you.”
The arms around his waist squeeze even more and Jongseong can feel Heeseung’s nose press against his neck.
“I love you too,” Heeseung responds. “Please don’t tell the others about how stupid I am. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Jongseong chuckles. “Sorry, hyung, but there’s no way on earth I’m not letting them know. Proof you’re not good at everything.”
“Tell them tomorrow?” Heeseung asks. “Tonight’s just for us.”
“Okay,” Jeongsong says. “Just us.”