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Daehyun steals a kiss when the cameras are gone. Jongup is innocent and naïve. 192 words. Inspired by this fanart by syewe-yoss.
Daehyun takes a furtive look around. The cameras appear to be gone; everyone appears to be busy with something else. No one's paying attention to them. He taps Jongup on the shoulder. “Hey.”
Jongup stops fiddling with his hair clips and looks at him. “Yes, hyung?”
“The cameras are gone.”
Jongup nods. “Yeah, I guess they are.”
“No one's watching us,” Daehyun says pointedly.
“Why would anyone be watching us?” Jongup asks, puzzled. He looks around, trying to see what the others are doing, wondering why Daehyun would think they're watching them.
Daehyun sighs, trying not to despair over Jongup's innocent naivety. “Jonguppie, look at me.”
Jongup does, eyes innocent and clueless. “Something wrong?”
“No.” With his index finger, Daehyun tilts Jongup's chin up and bends down a little.
“Is there something on my face?” Jongup asks.
“No.” With Jongup's face in a more favorable position, Daehyun drops a quick kiss onto his lips.
A faint blush spreads across Jongup's cheeks, and he smiles. “Oh.”
“Now he gets it,” Daehyun grins. Jongup happily closes his eyes and reaches up to hold Daehyun's hand.
Daehyun closes his eyes, too, and leans forward again.
Daehyun's makeup gets messed up during filming. Jongup fixes it. 212 words. inspired by this fanart by an unknown source. If you know the author, please let me know, and I will credit them.
“Your makeup's messed up, hyung,” Jongup says lightly.
“Is it?” Daehyun asks absently.
“Yeah. Here, I'll fix it,” Jongup offers. He swipes a nearby sponge and dabs at Daehyun's forehead. He probably should have just sent him back to the stylist noonas (Jongup is by no means a makeup artist), but it's just a little foundation. He can fix that much. Any excuse to spend a little one-on-one time with Daehyun, at any rate. “You're working so hard, you're just sweating it all off.”
Daehyun chuckles. “This happens so often, it makes it seem pointless. But I guess,” he adds, “we'd probably be horrified to see ourselves onscreen without it, huh?”
“I think you look good either way, hyung,” Jongup tells him, continuing to dab at his forehead, “with or without the makeup.”
Daehyun beams, and something in Jongup's chest swells and flutters. “Thanks, Jonguppie,” Daehyun says. “And thanks for fixing it for me.”
“Anytime.”
He wants to tell Daehyun more—no, really, anytime, anything, whatever you need, hyung, I'll be there for you—but the manager is calling him away and Jongup's words go unsaid. It's okay, though. There will be another time to tell Daehyun how he feels. Another day, when they're not so busy. When the time is right.
Daehyun wants a hug. Jongup doesn't want to be seen. 238 words. Inspired by this fanart by syewe-yoss.
Daehyun swoops in from behind, wrapping Jongup in a hug. He settles his head on Jongup's shoulder, snuggling against his face. “Hey, Uppie.”
Jongup jumps, startled by the sudden contact. “Hyung, what are you doing?” he asks, uncomfortable.
“I just wanted to hug you,” Daehyun says. It's not often he gets to be this close to Jongup. Not without the pretense of fanservice to cover it up, and he's technically supposed to save that for Youngjae.
Jongup squirms a little in his grip. “Hyung, someone might see,” he says worriedly. That's the way he is. In his mind, the potential consequences outweigh the rewards, and it's not worth the risk.
But Daehyun isn't letting him wiggle away this time. He misses Jongup, okay? He just wants to be close to him, and he doesn't see anything wrong with that. It's just a hug, and it's nice. “C'mon, Uppie.”
Jongup is not keen on the idea. “Hyung, what if someone sees?”
“All they'll see is a nice hyung hugging his dongsaeng. There's nothing wrong with that,” Daehyun asserts. He pulls Jongup in tighter. “Uppie, I miss you.”
Jongup takes a quick, fearful look around the room to reassure himself that no one's around. “...Okay,” he finally relents, “just a short hug, hyung.”
That's enough for Daehyun. He smiles and closes his eyes, content, enjoying the feeling of Jongup in his arms, even if the kid won't stop anxiously squirming.
Daehyun's mask hides a secret that used to scare Jongup. But Jongup's not afraid anymore. 256 words. Inspired by this fanart by an unknown source. If you know the author, please let me know, and I will credit them.
Jongup advanced on him, and Daehyun backed away in a mad panic, accidentally falling backward in his hurry, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of his stomach. Jongup followed him down, straddling him and holding him down with his legs. Daehyun struggled, but Jongup had him securely pinned, and he was a lot stronger that Daehyun was. He pushed at Jongup with his free hand, the other desperately holding his mask in place. He couldn't go through that again. He couldn't handle seeing that look on Jongup's face again.
“Please, Jongup, please,” he begged, clinging to Jongup's arm. “Please don't.”
“Daehyun,” Jongup said softly, fingers gently curling around the edge of the mask. Daehyun squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to look at him. “Daehyun.”
“Please don't,” Daehyun repeated, his voice dropping into a strangled whisper. “Jongup, please, let it go, I can't do that again, please.”
Jongup smiled, despite Daehyun's obvious pain. He knew it was his fault that Daehyun felt this way, that he was so afraid to show who he really was, and it hurt Jongup to know that he was the one who'd done this to him. But he knew that he could fix it.
“Daehyun,” he murmured, leaning closer, his fingertips finding purchase on the edge of the mask. “I'm not afraid of you.”
Daehyun stopped struggling for a moment as the gravity of Jongup's words hit him. It was enough time for Jongup to get a good grip on the mask and pull it away, revealing Daehyun's true face.
Today is Daehyun's birthday. Jongup is shy. 263 words. Inspired by this fanart by syewe-yoss.
The cake has been eaten, the presents have been opened, and the other members have retreated to their respective rooms, leaving Daehyun and Jongup alone in the living room.
“Well, I'm not cleaning this up,” Daehyun yawns, standing up and stretching. It's his birthday, after all. Himchan can clean it up tomorrow. “I think I'll go to bed.”
Jongup blinks up at him. “Oh—okay,” he says, and he sounds flustered, though Daehyun can't fathom why. “Are you tired?”
“Yeah, kind of,” Daehyun replies, raising an eyebrow at Jongup, who has averted his gaze and is now blushing faintly. Maybe he's embarrassed because he didn't give Daehyun a present? He didn't say happy birthday, either, which Daehyun thought was a little weird. It's not a big deal, though. “You okay, Jonguppie?”
Jongup nods, his eyes boring holes in the table.
“Okay then,” Daehyun says uncertainly, stepping away from the table. “Well, good night.”
He starts to walk out of the room, and Jongup knows he's got to move now or he'll miss his chance. With a face as red as a traffic light and his hair hiding most of his face, he gets up from the table, lunges forward, and hugs Daehyun from behind. “Ha... ppy b...birthday...” he stutters out shyly.
For the record, Daehyun's face does not turn as red as Jongup's, nor does he have to cover his mouth to stop any embarrassing sounds from escaping it. (For the record, he does lay his hand over Jongup's. He also decides that this is one of the best birthdays he's ever had.)
While relaxing in the park, Daehyun imagines Jongup to be a fairytale princess. (Which he's not.) 297 words. Inspired by this fanart by an unknown source. If you know the artist, please let me know, and I will credit them.
A strong gust of wind shakes the leaves from their branches. They fall around them, twisting downwards, and catch the light in ways that make them shine. It makes it seem like they're caught in a shower of light.
“Jonguppie, look,” Daehyun says, pointing into the air. “It's really pretty.”
Upon receiving no answer, he looks over at his partner. Jongup has fallen completely asleep, his book lying open and face-down on his chest, his earbuds still pumping music into his ears. A stray beam of sunlight falls over his face, lighting him up like the leaves. He really looks like he belongs with the scenery, like he fell out of a magazine, or a storybook, too beautiful and too serene to be real.
On impulse, Daehyun flips onto his stomach, lifts himself up onto his elbows, and leans over Jongup. That's how you wake up the people in stories, right? You kiss them. He hesitates for only a moment, then goes for it, pressing his lips softly against Jongup's, then pulls away again, not wanting to wake him up.
His attempts turn out to be in vain; when he pulls away, Jongup's eyes are wide open and watching him.
“Ah! Jonguppie! I—sorry!”
“I'm not a fairytale princess, Daehyun hyung,” Jongup tells him.
Daehyun blushes and rolls back onto his back. “Of course not. Sorry.”
Jongup pulls out his earbuds and sets his book aside, then adjusts his position so that he's lying in the same direction as Daehyun. He gently pulls Daehyun's face towards him and sinks his mouth onto his.
When he pulls away, he smirks a little. “If you're going to kiss me, I'd rather be awake.”
Daehyun grins. “I'll keep that in mind,” he says, and pulls Jongup in for another one.
Jongup goes to the gym and Daehyun tags along. Daehyun doesn't actually work out. 329 words. Inspired by this fanart by an unknown source. If you know the artist, please let me know, and I will credit them.
Hours later, Jongup finally decides he's done and flags down Daehyun to cool down. Jongup is dripping with sweat, T-shirt soaked through, and breathing heavily. Daehyun looks decidedly better, not a surprise since he spent the whole time leisurely walking on the treadmill.
Jongup grabs his water bottle and a towel, finds a nice open spot on the mats, and sits down, panting slightly. His muscles complain, but it feels good, at the same time. It was a good workout. He feels accomplished.
Daehyun joins him a little later, his phone in one hand, some kind of coffee drink in the other hand. “How's it going, Jonguppie?”
“Good,” Jongup pants. “What are you drinking?”
“Double chocolate iced mocha something or other,” Daehyun replies, taking a seat behind Jongup. He checks a text message and sips at his drink through a purple straw.
Jongup takes a swig from his bottle. “Should you be drinking something like that right after working out?”
“Eh.” Daehyun shrugs it off and leans against Jongup, using the younger as a backrest. “It wasn't much of a workout, honestly.” He settles comfortably against him and sucks down his sugary drink. Jongup can't help but laugh. Silly Daehyun hyung.
“Thank you, hyung.”
Daehyun pauses and looks over his shoulder, straw still in his mouth. “For what?”
“For coming to work out with me,” Jongup says, smiling happily. “You didn't have to. I know working out isn't really your thing. But I like spending time with you.”
“Anytime,” Daehyun responds. “I like spending time with you, too.” He doesn't tell Jongup the rest of his thought: that anything that lets him spend more time around Jongup, who smiles through his pain and exhaustion, who makes the room brighter by being in it, who is a walking ray of warming sunshine, is totally his thing. He just goes back to his drink and his phone while Jongup towels off, pretending to be a million times cooler than he is.
Daehyun and Jongup are in some sort of home. Daehyun's trying to do what he thinks is best. Jongup disagrees with him. 499 words. Inspired by this fanart by syewe-yoss.
Matching grey shirts, matching round earrings, and matching blond hair. Everything in this place matches, made to fit, forced to conform to the confines of these four walls. Matching windows and matching bedsheets. Everything the same.
Everything and everyone, except for the two of them. That, he was always sure of. Two years too early, or two years too late; one of them had been born at the wrong time, and that was part of it. And part of it was that they had matching parts, and matching parts didn't fit; and more to the point Jongup was just a kid, alone and lost in this place but not as hardened and broken as Daehyun had become. Jongup still had a chance to leave, to grow, to change, a chance that Daehyun no longer had. That, he was sure of.
So why, then, this difficulty? This tugging, pulling, yanking on his heartstrings, the sick feeling in his gut, the complete refusal to let go? He knows that letting go is the right thing to do. It will be better for both of them, especially Jongup, and Jongup may not see it now but he will, and maybe he'll even look back and thank Daehyun for saving him the agony. He knows this to be true.
But the fact remains that even though he knows what he should do, what the right thing to do is, he can't do it. He can't push away this boy (just a boy, just a boy), can't turn around and walk away from him, can't leave him (the way everyone else has, had, probably will, he can't hurt him that way). He can't.
He thought he was older, wiser. He thought he could stand to watch this boy (just a boy) cry in front of him, beg him to stay, beg him (for everything Daehyun never thought he could have, could give, could feel), and then just walk away. He can't.
Jongup is crying, and in spite everything they go through every day, in spite of all the pain and the nightmares, that's one thing Daehyun has never seen him do. Jongup has always been stronger than Daehyun thought was humanly possible (was always stronger than he was, and never saw it). Now, he looks so vulnerable.
That, that vulnerability, is what is cracking, chipping away, at his resolve, unraveling his cold, thought-out (the right thing to do, better for both of them) plan. He can't push away something like that (someone who needs him so much, something he never knew he wanted, wanted to protect, wanted for himself).
Matching tears for matching fears. Sharp intake of breath (this isn't right, this wasn't part of the plan, why is he crying too) and a drop, water and salt and sunlight. He doesn't feel older now, or wiser, or anything but just as vulnerable, like he's been scrubbed all over with steel and left raw.
“Daehyun,” Jongup whispers, “I just want to be with you.”
Jongup sucks at showing his feelings. Daehyun can't take it anymore. 593 words. Inspired by this fanart by syewe-yoss.
Daehyun grabs a fistful of Jongup's shirt and uses it to slam him against the wall. “Bastard,” he spits. “You think you're better than everyone else, like you don't have to feel like everyone else does. You're like a goddamn robot.”
Jongup's expression doesn't waver, doesn't change, and Daehyun wants to punch him. He feels so weak next to Jongup. He's letting his emotions get the best of him, showing all his cards, relinquishing all control. Not like Jongup, who's always controlled, always collected, never lets anything get to him. Not even Daehyun.
Jongup rests his forehead against Daehyun's. “You can't tell I care about you?”
Daehyun clenches his teeth. “How the hell could I tell that?” God. He just can't keep his cool with this kid. Everything he does, everything about him gets under Daehyun's skin and he fucking hates that, because it doesn't go both ways. He knows it doesn't. He doesn't have nearly the same effect on Jongup that Jongup has on him, and he fucking hates that.
“What do you want me to do?” Jongup asks calmly. He raises a hand to Daehyun's face, strokes his cheek, calloused fingers gentle against sensitive skin. “Is this what you want?”
Daehyun grabs Jongup's hand. Yes, it is, that's the kind of signal he's been waiting for all along, but he refuses to admit that. Because he can't just pour it all out. Fuck, he's got to keep something to himself, even if it's something as small as this. “You damn punk,” he hisses. “Don't you dare make fun of me.”
“I wouldn't,” Jongup says, and his voice is still so damn calm. It's making Daehyun crazy. He wants Jongup to feel something, damn it, he just wants him to react.
“You are right now,” Daehyun accuses. “You must think I'm acting like a fucking needy girl. Daehyun needs attention, Daehyun's upset because his boyfriend doesn't rain affection on him every second of the day.” It's not that far from the truth. Daehyun does need attention. Is it so much to ask for? Just a little bit. Just enough to let him know that he's not alone in this relationship.
“Daehyun, I'm not making fun of you,” Jongup insists. “I'm serious. Is this what you want from me?” He rubs his thumb across Daehyun's lips. Daehyun had forgotten he was still holding Jongup's hand. “Physical contact?”
Daehyun releases his hold on Jongup's shirt. “Forget it,” he says disgustedly, “fucking forget it, I don't need this bullshit.”
But Jongup holds tightly to his hand. “Daehyun, all you have to do is ask,” he murmurs. “I'm not... I'm not used to this kind of thing, you know that. I don't know what to do, I don't know what you want from me. If it's just this,” he squeezes Daehyun's hand, “then just tell me. I'll do anything you want me to.”
Daehyun can't believe the words he's hearing. “You're fucking kidding me.” He's gotta be. He can't be telling him that he's been waiting for fucking permission to act like a real boyfriend. It's too stupid. It's too childish. Too unreal.
“I'm not,” Jongup says seriously. “Just tell me what you want.”
Daehyun takes a step back, trying to clear his head. He still wants to punch Jongup. He looks at his boyfriend, the perfect idiot who makes him crazier than anything, wonders why he loves him so damn much.
“You'll do anything?”
“Anything.”
Daehyun narrows his eyes at him. He hates this kid. But, not really. Not really at all. “Then kiss me.”