Archive of Our Own ^beta

You couldn’t drop a pin and land on the exact date that it began, Sunoo just knows it was early.

When the dorm chaos would die off slowly as one after the other, members would retreat back to their rooms and lights would turn off in their wake, the anticlimactic epilogue of their otherwise busy days. The living room light with Heeseung, the light that hung over the hallway by Jungwon, and eventually Sunoo would be the last to be standing in the kitchen, feeling like the only one awake in the world, switching off the light after completing his assigned dish duty of the week. Sunoo would lie awake in his bed before sleep would grace his tired body. He’d think about the day he just lived, the day that would follow after, and sometimes he’d find himself wandering into the territory of the future and what was in store for him and the group. He was prepared for this kind of life, he felt, through trials and tribulations, this was what he wanted to do with his future - what he was meant to do.

The first time it happened was shortly after their debut.

The shuffling of blankets and the soft patter of footsteps that weren’t necessarily loud, but disturbed the sleep spell that layered over the dorm and encasing them in cotton. Sunoo watched from beneath his comforter, through the hole he had made so he was able to breathe with sleep saturating the edges of his vision, as a dark figure crawled from Sunghoon’s bed and walked on his toes around the room as if he were sidestepping piles of glass instead of navigating three other boys sleeping in the room. His movements were controlled, stick figure-like, and done with the intention of remaining unnoticed, undetected. From the bed to the dresser to the door, every small action was quiet before he slipped out.

Sunoo let sleep overcome him then.

The next time he noticed something was about a month later. A chilling winter cold front had settled over Seoul and the boys were drowned in work. Snow was starting to cling to the ground outside and the floor by the door was constantly caked with dried over footprints from sludge and mud soaked shoes. Jay had mopped it nearly every night before bed and perhaps that was what caught Sunoo’s attention, noticing the clean threshold in passing on his way back to bed and tucking that miniscule amount of information away, ruffling his freshly washed hair.

The next morning, Sunoo was the first to wake up. An unquenchable thirst was what coaxed him from his cocoon of blankets and pillows, disrupting the quiet calmness of his sleep riddled limbs in search of a glass of water. The door of his bedroom creaked upon opening, the cold of the floor shocking his nerves awake with every step. He yawned as he entered the kitchen, grabbing the kettle sat on the counter and moving to the sink in a practiced dance. Once full, he set it back on its base and pushed the lever down, turning back to an empty room while he waited.

His eyes settled on the window in the living room, condensation pooling from the sealed top and collected in the panes near the bottom. White puffs of snow were still falling from the doomy gray sky that illuminated the room enough for Sunoo to see the disturbance to the clean floor by the door. Dried over footprints, of course, but only one set.

He stared at the set of tracks for a moment, as if expecting they would come alive and name who they belonged to. It was ominous, which is probably what kept his attention settled on it until the kettle shut off after it reached boiling temperature. Sunoo nearly leapt out of his skin when it did, turning back around to the cupboards in search of a mug.

He watched every member pour into the kitchen after that, sipping on his mug of warm water on the couch, allowing the heat to wake up his body. Jungwon’s hair matted in different directions, Ni-ki’s blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape as he laid his head on Sunoo’s lap, Jake’s shuffling of feet before he dropped onto a kitchen chair like he couldn’t hold up his own weight, Jay already giving himself jobs to do in the kitchen, Heeseung’s heavy eyelids and the scuffle of his slippers against the floor.

No one else paid any mind to the single set of tracks on the floor, but the memory of Sunghoon crawling out of his bed one night lingered in Sunoo’s mind like an aftertaste when the boy rubbed his eyes as he walked into the kitchen once breakfast was ready.

A month later, it happened again.

The same shuffling of blankets, the same quiet tip-toed walk on the floor, the same dark figure leaving Sunghoon’s bed. This time, Sunoo had unluckily woke up to it instead of fighting off sleep with his overactive mind and was able to blink off the drowsiness in time to see Sunghoon escape out of their room, the bedroom door clicking shut behind him.

Sunoo pushed both Ni-ki’s limbs and the blankets off his body with delicate care before he climbed off his top bunk, following Sunghoon’s steps into the living room. The dorm was still dark and encapsulated in the same quiet that let Sunoo know no one else was awake. Jay’s sound machine was playing white noise in the other room and Jake was snoring lightly to the rhythm of Sunoo’s racing heart. He had adjusted his shirt the same time he heard the elevator ding on their floor, announcing its arrival.

Where was Sunghoon going?

The next morning sat across from him at the breakfast table, Sunghoon appeared normal. He was smiling and laughing at the jokes the members made while he ate, not a single thing out of place as far as normalcy went. His hair was combed, his teeth were brushed, there wasn’t a mark on him to suggest something lascivious had happened to him in those four long hours that Sunghoon was gone from the apartment at night. And yes, Sunoo had waited awake until he heard keys jingle into the lock before turning inward to Ni-ki’s body, pretending to sleep while his stomach swooped in, waiting for Sunghoon’s return.

Sunoo had caught Sunghoon doing it a few more times, always quiet and conscious of the other people in the dorm, waiting until everyone was asleep and slipping back in a few hours later. Sunoo would either wake up to him leaving the bedroom - a light sleeper - or lie awake in contemplation of cornering Sunghoon into telling Sunoo where he was going.

For safety reasons, Sunoo tried to placate the Sunghoon he had conjured up in his mind, at least one of them would know in case anything had gone wrong, but that would be the thinnest stretch of the truth.The real reason - a starking thing Sunoo kept circling back to in his head over and over - was that he truly just wanted to know everything about Sunghoon. It was a festering infection of a wound other people would call a crush, whereas Sunoo was happily avoiding it like it was a viral disease. He couldn’t act on it, so what was the point of addressing it?

Sunoo’s first vinegar soaked thought was that Sunghoon had a secret girlfriend, which wasn’t the craziest idea; Sunghoon was attractive and they were all going through puberty, so it was only normal for him to act on those impulses, but Sunghoon never eluded to it otherwise. He was always the picture of perfection as a young, debuting idol. If he was dating someone, he was extremely quiet about it and never told the members, never carried a mark on his body, and never holed himself up in the room late at night on his phone.

Sunoo’s second, more reasonable idea, was that Sunghoon was spending an ungodly amount of time haunting the convenience store down the street. It made no sense, but it was plausible. Maybe there was a side of Park Sunghoon that was a secret foodie. The kind of far-fetched idea that just might be crazy enough to work.

Whatever it was, it seemed that none of the other members knew, or even cared about it the way Sunoo did. He’d lift his head from his pillow in time for the hinges on the door to align and sigh to himself, ideas running through his head endlessly. He was driving himself mad with ideas, the ideas of Sunghoon kissing people and possibly getting caught, rumors and scandals that they couldn’t escape. By the time Sunghoon would fold himself back into bed, Sunoo had talked himself into his own heartbreak before there was anything of substance between them, fully convinced Sunghoon was doing something that could shift things immeasurably.

Three months after the first time, Sunghoon had left the dark of their dorm in a rush. Sunoo, having awoken to Sunghoon stubbing his toe on the edge of his dresser, waited until he heard the front door of the dorm shut quietly before flying down the ladder of his bed. His hands had gathered a layer of sweat that made them clammy, squeaking against the rungs he held onto as he descended. He was determined to know what secretive things Sunghoon was getting into so late at night that he couldn’t tell anyone, even their manager.

Sunoo raced to pull socks over his feet, almost falling and slamming his face head first into Jungwon’s bed, mouthing an apology to the sleeping figure. He was yanking someone’s beanie and pulling his coat off the hook by the door as he grabbed his keys, anxiety wafting off of him through the quiet. His organs were starting to shift in that really revolting way, his stomach gravitating to his throat and his heart free falling to his feet. The back of his shoes were tucked awkwardly against his heel and the arm hole of his jacket had suddenly decided to disappear in thin air as he raced down the stairs, Sunghoon on the elevator, hoping to be ground level around the same time before he left the area.

The cold February air took form in front of him, personifying his breath as he burst through the doors, taking a quick inventory of the empty street. It was late, just barely past midnight and too cold for many people to be roaming around. The streetlights around here were few and far between, meaning Sunoo would go mostly undetected. There were still piles of snow that frosted over during the low temperatures of the night, taking on a more icier sheen than the stuff Jungwon had played with this afternoon. Sunghoon’s dark figure was walking down the road with his hands in his pockets just half a block ahead. Sunoo tucked his face further into the neck of his jacket, trailing after the older boy.

Sunoo followed along for a while, making sure that every time it looked like Sunghoon might turn around, he was hidden in the shadows of a building or behind a car parked on the side of the road. He had slipped on ice a few times, losing his balance enough to have to sink to the ground in order to not fall flat on his face and make a commotion. It would take a few seconds before Sunghoon would resume walking, like he was aware he was being followed, but he didn’t stop.

Every time, it was as if Sunoo had chugged an energy drink, his pulse speeding to supersonic speeds, like his veins were about to take flight. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if Sunghoon had caught him, but… this was also kind of fun too. He didn’t have much time to play lately and this felt reminiscent of a game of hide-and-seek.

Sunoo stilled as Sunghoon’s head began to turn in his direction again and shuffled behind a tree, his heart bulldozing in his chest. He froze in place, becoming one with a tree, inserting himself into the mind of a non-living being. Complete stillness, so focused that his breath was starting to hurt his lungs.

Reason was starting to stick to parts of his brain like honey. Maybe he shouldn’t follow his friend down the road in the dark. Maybe he should’ve just asked about it instead of impulsively jumping to conclusions. Maybe Sunoo was a little too in his head, but also maybe what if Sunghoon was in some kind of danger? What if he needed help and was refusing to get the others involved because he was embarrassed?

Sunoo heard the patter of Sunghoon’s shoes regaining movement and he poked his head out from around the tree, only to see that Sunghoon had entirely disappeared from view.

“Shit,” Sunoo whispers. He had to hold his beanie against his head as he jogged over to the last place Sunghoon was. Cars were driving off in the distance, streetlights were changing, and every so often there was the bark of a dog somewhere in the neighborhood, but Sunghoon had somehow dissipated into the night without a sound. Sunoo glanced to his left and his right, trying to make out Sunghoon’s familiar figure in the dark, but he was gone.

Sunoo ponders going back home or just roaming aimlessly until he finds Sunghoon again when a hand seized the hood of his jacket from behind.

“Why are you following me?”

Sunoo’s heart zips out of his chest, his eyes bugging out of his head as his gaze flies to Sunghoon, half of his face covered by a cloth mask. His eyes widened slightly too, like he wasn’t expecting Sunoo to be the culprit stalking him from the shadows.

“Y-you scared me, hyung.” He stumbles over his words, but Sunghoon doesn’t let go of his grip on the hood of his fabric. “How did you know I was following you?”

“You’re really loud.” Sunghoon doesn’t look amused. His words are muffled behind his mask and dry, drier than the blistering air trying to soak into Sunoo’s skin.

Sunoo pouts for a second. He hadn’t thought this far. In fact, he didn’t think he’d get caught this early. He had made sure he was undetectable. Sunoo stubbornly doesn’t want to concede, though he’s already been caught. So he lies.

“I was going to the convenience store.” It sounds clunky and unsure and he hopes Sunghoon falls for his innocent act.

“This late?” Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow together, pulling the mask down so it’s bunched at his chin with the hand not holding onto Sunoo. He’s nearly bent Sunoo in half at the hips standing imposingly above him, like he’s trying his hardest to intimidate the younger.

It doesn’t work well because Sunoo is Sunoo, and he’s never properly backed down from a challenge in his life without good reason.

“I’m starving,” Sunoo eagerly nods. He knows it’s overkill, the final cherry on top, but he doesn’t care. He needs to know what Sunghoon is doing for his own sanity and sleep schedule.

“The convenience store is back that way.” Sunghoon nods his head in the direction they had just come, the way back to the apartment. He unlatches his grip from Sunoo’s hood and clenches his fists before dropping them back into his pocket, gazing at Sunoo like he’s expecting him to just turn around and leave.

Sunoo blinks.

“What are you doing?”

Sunghoon looks away.

“None of your business.”

And Sunoo wants to scoff. Wants to laugh at the fact that it may not be his business, but Sunghoon had unintentionally looped him in when he’d wake him up in the night and made it his business. Tell him that whatever plans he had tonight were now going to include his plus one Sunoo so the boy could determine whether or not it was safe to continue doing. Yet he doesn’t scoff or laugh or even react with anything other than a hum to let Sunghoon know he wasn’t buying any of the act he was putting on because when Sunoo looks at his hidden expression, he realizes that Sunghoon almost looks embarrassed.

And maybe it’s the terrible lighting playing tricks on him. The orange of the streetlight that hangs off a telephone pole a few feet away, creating shadows on Sunghoon’s face that defy and morph emotions that weren’t really present, but Sunoo still softens. Sunghoon looks younger like this. Hanging his head like a reprimanded child and chewing into his cheek like if he created a large enough hole, he could hide in it. Sunoo melts into the idea that maybe he was assuming the worst of someone he knew pretty well and maybe following him was a bit extreme. That maybe there was a reason Sunghoon wasn’t telling him or the others where he was going.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Sunoo finds his voice is quiet when it’s laced with emotion. He’s seventeen and still trying to navigate these changes his body is going through and life without being under his parents care and roof while being an idol on top of that, but his voice softens like his mothers does when she’s offering help without directly saying it. The idea makes him miss her, but maybe this is as close as he can get to her right now, embodying her care with his band mates.

Sunghoon must take to it, barely lifting his head so his eyes settle on Sunoo. Sunoo is patient as he waits, despite the tickle in his nose as it starts to run and he has to sniffle or pull his hands back further into the sleeve of his coat because he had forgotten his gloves on his race out the door. Sunghoon mulls it over silently in his head, eyes flicking back and forth between each of Sunoo’s, before a sigh escapes his lips. A tender resignation.

Eventually, Sunghoon just turns and starts walking. Sunoo has to stop the smile that spreads on his face as he follows, the pride of victory warming his chest more than it should’ve.

“Where are you going?” Sunoo asks, skipping so he’s in step with Sunghoon.

“Somewhere secret.” Sunghoon mumbles and they turn a street corner, enveloped in an alley with no streetlights. Sunoo grasps Sunghoon’s coat sleeve without thought, staying close in case he bumped into something, or the odd case where something reached out to grab him. It was silly that after all this time being on his own, Sunoo still reached out to someone when he needed protection.

But Sunghoon didn’t mind it, or didn’t actively try to push Sunoo away, bearing the burden of being the older one even if it was by just a few months. He stuck his arm out more intentionally for Sunoo, in front of him like he was protecting him from the shadows. Sunoo could only stifle the smile that threatens to overtake his body, pursing his lips enough for Sunghoon to look over at him.

“What?” Of course even in the dark, Sunghoon could see it, but he’s grinning shyly too and it takes everything in Sunoo to not laugh.

“You’re weird, hyung.” Was all Sunoo could think to say.

Sunghoon must take his words as a challenge because once they’re out of the dark, Sunghoon’s feet are picking up pace and they’re scurrying through the streets of Seoul, untouched by the traffic and life. They’re flying around dark corners when they do happen to stumble upon a person or if a noise is loud enough to make them feel like they need to. And Sunoo is giggling when they fly into an alley, only his fingertips gripping the fabric of Sunghoon’s coat, but Sunghoon never runs too fast for Sunoo to lose hold.

They’re both breathless and wind kissed by the time they make it to a door, Sunghoon’s bangs separated against his forehead and Sunoo’s cheeks a dusky mauve. They’re using their entire bodies to breathe, lungs icing over in the cold temperature and fingers aching. Sunoo’s eyes are wide as he stares at Sunghoon, who’s leaning against the wall next to the door, head tipped up and his eyes closed.

He’s so pretty, Sunoo allows the thought to flit through his mind before he pushes it down, stomping it out with metaphorical feet. Even in this alley, even in the low wattage lighting, even with the sniffles and the way he pretends not to notice Sunoo’s staring, Sunghoon is pretty to Sunoo.

Sunghoon’s hand mindlessly finds his coat pocket, producing his key ring. Sunoo recognizes most of the keys. One to the dorm, one to his parent’s house, one to the company that everyone gets, but there’s another one that is unfamiliar, gold and a little warped around the edges from constant use. Sunghoon grips the one Sunoo doesn’t recognize between his index finger and thumb, shaking the rest out so they sit in his palm and goes for the door.

“Hyung-” Sunoo begins but the key is already grinding against the teeth of the lock and he twists it, pushing the door open. Sunoo is met by an endless darkness that plays tricks with his senses, unable to tell if whatever loomed ahead was a small room or something expansive and consuming.

Sunghoon is watching him from the side with a peculiar expression, eyebrows nearly drawn together and his tongue darting out to wet his winter bitten lips.

“Do you trust me, Sunoo-yah?”

And the question is so unexpected that Sunoo’s mouth drops open, heart curling in itself. Of course he trusts Sunghoon, he trusts him just as much as he trusts Heeseung or Ni-ki or any of the other members, but Sunghoon isn’t asking for confirmation, he’s asking if he could trust Sunoo to keep this secret. The kind of question that is worded one way but has layers between the spaces and it’s making Sunoo a little dizzy to think about, so he only nods. It’s the only thing he can do, cautious of his tongue, because as much as he wants to reaffirm where his loyalties lie, he fears he’ll tell Sunghoon that he could trust Sunoo with anything, not because he’s a member of the band, but because Sunoo would do anything for him.

Sunghoon grins then, boyish and unexpected, something toothy where the apple of his cheeks lift impossibly high on his face. He takes a step and reaches into the dark, flicking on a switch that announces itself by a slow electric hum before lights flicker on one by one.

The dark escapes as a room builds, on and on. The small area before them lined with old wooden single ply shelves before rolling into an expansive room, illuminating the way to a small ice rink. It’s short, unlike the other ice rinks Sunoo had seen, something meant for a single person to practice on or kids. The temperature inside the building matches that of outside and Sunoo is half debating just turning back and going home to bury himself in the warmth of his bed before he feels a hand at the small of his back, luring him inside before he has the chance to run.

Sunoo walks past Sunghoon’s reach, his feet languidly carrying him to the fence lining the rink. He feels like he’s sleep walking, his body fully aware of reality but his mind still viewing everything in a fog. He peers over the edge like he would peer at a body of water, the shine of the ice meeting his eyes. There’s noise behind him like Sunghoon is in search of something before the older boy is moving to a bench in Sunoo’s peripheral, sitting down. Sunoo looks up in time to see Sunghoon kicking off his shoes and placing a pair of white skates by his feet.

“Are we breaking and entering?” Sunoo asks, the top of the fence gripped against his palm. The wood digs uncomfortably into his skin.

“Are we breaking and entering - who do you think I am?” Sunghoon grunts as he shoves his foot into a skate and bends over to start lacing it up. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth in concentration and Sunoo has to look away before he acknowledges the way he’s endeared by it. “I have a key, Sunoo-yah.”

Sunoo shrugs his shoulders half-heartedly, as if to say that’s still not getting permission to be here, and pinches the top of the fence between his icy fingers. He watches as Sunghoon’s pink knuckles bend to thread the laces of each ice skate perfectly, having never missed a beat and had been doing this almost every day like he used to. It’s daunting, an unencumbered emotion that Sunoo can’t tamper down, like he’s actively watching Sunghoon do something that he’s not supposed to. As if Sunghoon would remember how much he used to love doing this, competing on the ice, and he’d leave everything he and the boys had worked so hard for behind in favor of it.

Sunoo can’t help the dead flower of jealousy that blooms warily in his chest at the thought.

It all shifts when Sunghoon stands after tying off the laces, peering up at Sunoo with a giddy, wild expression. Sunoo sends him a timid smile back, one hand holding him up from falling to the ground as he swings to and fro from it. Sunghoon takes quick steps to the gate and the wood groans as it opens, the vibrations of it meeting Sunoo only a few short feet away. Sunghoon reaches down, lifting each foot, to slide off the black blade guards on his skates, apprehensively shoving them deep within his pockets before producing a pair of black gloves.

“One of my old coaches gave me a key to this place and told me to come by anytime I wanted,” Sunghoon states as he steps into a glide, moving with ease toward Sunoo. He opens the glove and shoves Sunoo’s fist in without looking at his face, squeezing Sunoo’s hand until every finger was in the right hole.

It’s childish, the way Sunoo is persisting so Sunghoon would touch him as much as possible, but the way his heart is thundering prevents him from acting reasonably. Sunghoon does it with Sunoo’s other hand as well, actions robotic like it was a mindless act to take care of Sunoo, or any of the boys for that matter. Like they were one of his siblings.

“I don’t come here that often,” Sunghoon is talking like he’s trying to defend himself against Sunoo’s silence, arming himself with answers to unasked questions. “Just when I need a break.”

Sunoo watches Sunghoon’s expression alters into something dark and distant, like he’s retroactively summoning thoughts, the reason he needs a break. Sunoo and his gloved hands wrap around one of Sunghoon’s bare hands, squeezing lightly. The action makes Sunghoon finally look at Sunoo, who smiles brightly.

“I think it’s cool, hyung.”

And whether it's enough to pull Sunghoon from whatever taints the depths of his mind, Sunoo will never know because Sunghoon moves himself from Sunoo with the slightest movement of his finger, smile barely there but eyes carrying something warm, and inviting. It’s the exact opposite of what it was just a few seconds ago and Sunoo feels lucky to be the one to witness the change. Sunghoon’s sliding backwards, looking like the ice skater Sunoo remembers watching videos of.

“Don’t laugh if I make a mistake.” Sunghoon scrunches up his nose and runs a hand over his brown hair.

Sunoo chuckles. “I don’t think I’d notice if you did.”

Sunghoon shakes his head like he can’t believe it and turns, long legs shooting out in front of him so he skates with a slow build up of speed. Sunoo is enamored by the movement, akin to that of a gazelle, something graceful and boundless.

Sunoo thought that after two years, he had seen every facet of Sunghoon, every side and emotion and expression, but he realized after a few seconds that it wasn’t really true. Sunghoon on ice skates, doing a sport he loved but left to become an idol, returning to it like an old love, was a side of Sunghoon that was entirely different from the rest. Sunoo could see every negative, exhausted and unmentioned thought of Sunghoon’s fling off of him with every scrape of the blade against the ice.

Sunoo realizes that he likes this side of Sunghoon. This effortless confidence that exudes off of him in ripples and waves and demands Sunoo’s attention. This ease in his demeanor continues to pull at Sunoo, who’s entirely unable to look away from him. He gasps when Sunghoon spins so quickly he looks like he might fall or claps when Sunghoon completes a jump, the smiles never leaving either of their faces.

Sunghoon has always been a few centimeters taller than Sunoo, even taller with ice skates, but there’s something about him now that makes him as tall as sky scrapers. Taller and more prominent and just so direct in Sunoo’s line of vision that Sunoo can’t escape the downpour of butterflies that trickle into his stomach. His heart is buzzing in his chest every time Sunghoon’s expression is untameable, a smile he can’t reign in for the life of him, canine teeth bared. It’s the same look he gets after an exhausting dance practice or right after a performance that goes well and Sunoo knows Sunghoon is right where he wants to be.

It’s not even an hour later when they’re walking home, Sunoo’s teeth almost audibly chattering as he folds his arms tightly against his chest. They had fallen into an easy step, prolonging their way home. Every once in a while their shoulders would bump or brush together and Sunoo would smile to himself every time, trying not to read into every single thing like he had a habit of doing. They had left the ice rink with smiles wider than the ones they had entered with, Sunghoon a little tired and Sunoo’s stomach rumbling from hunger.

“Why haven’t you told anyone you do that?” Sunoo asks the air, the tip of his nose bruising from the cold. Sunghoon lightly taps a lone pebble in the road away with the toe of his shoe, watching as it clatters against the pavement a foot away before it stops.

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon shrugs. His hands are in his pockets to escape the cold and his mask is tightened around his face. He turns over to Sunoo and pulls the hood of his jacket up, like he’s just now remembered they weren’t meant to be out and walking around this late and it would prevent them from being caught. “I think I’m scared I’ll have to give it up if anyone finds out.”

Sunoo swallows whatever saliva had been sitting in his mouth and wants to sigh. Every part of their lives have been tampered with since they were on I-Land, including the amount of time they were allowed to be on the phone with their family. It was a logical fear of his to have.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Sunoo’s lips are frozen as he says it, blinking at Sunghoon until the boy finally gives in and makes eye contact. “Just tell me when you go so I know to wait for you.”

“You can tell them,” Sunghoon reservedly sighs, like he’s already given up, like one person in on the secret meant all of them were. He looks up at the sky for a second before puffing up his cheeks and blowing out more air. “It’s not like I’m going to do it again. I just-”

His whole body pauses, his steps halting. Sunoo takes another step forward before he stops, turning to face Sunghoon.

“You can love two things at once.” Sunoo doesn’t know where the words come from, but they break free from his chest and tangle against his tongue before he can stop them. He feels juvenile saying them, like he’s trying to fit words over his tongue that are much too big, a little older in age into his mouth. They break whatever spell Sunghoon was under and force him to look up at Sunoo, working their way up a hill and Sunoo was a little bit taller. There’s a streetlamp behind Sunoo and Sunghoon is caught in his shadow, shielding him in a way that extends both literal and metaphorical meaning. “Just because you have a new dream doesn’t mean the old one never had any meaning. It’s still a piece of you.”

Sunghoon rubs his lips together, shoulders straightening like he’s uncomfortable by the floating weight of Sunoo’s words. Sunoo picks up on it and extends his hand, dragging it from Sunghoon’s elbow and into his pocket, sidling Sunghoon. Their hands bump together but never cross, enclosed fists just grazing against one another in the fabric of his pocket.

“Let’s go home. I’m freezing.”

The next time it happens, Sunghoon isn’t surprised when Sunoo sleepily drops from his bed and starts to put on his own socks. They don’t say anything until they’re out of the building and walking with their shoulders bumping down the street, chattering about their excitement for their upcoming schedules. Sunoo steps inside the building without hesitation once the door opens and turns on the lights before Sunghoon can, spectating from the bench as Sunghoon skates. Inside the little inconspicuous building tucked away in an alleyway, the two never spoke of idol life. Figure skater Park Sunghoon and Idol Park Sunghoon never mix, never meeting in the middle, two opposing objects that exist by themselves and Sunoo gets to watch both with stars in his eyes.

It became an unspoken habit between them - something never mentioned to the other members or their manager - for Sunoo to notice Sunghoon getting restless or frustrated or quick to anger and Sunoo would wake him up in the middle of the night, pulling him from his bed with Sunghoon’s socks already in his hand. Sometimes he’d have to help a sleep deprived Sunghoon into his jacket and beanie while other nights Sunghoon was the one dragging Sunoo by the hand down the hallway to the elevator, but it was a secret between them that was sweet and sachirine and safe for their eyes only.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“Be nice,” Sunoo chides.

It’s been almost a year since their debut and they’ve just released Tamed-Dashed. Sunoo’s hair is soft and pink and hidden beneath a purple beanie, his jacket a bright green. Normally on the nights the two of them would sneak out of the dorm, he had gone for darker colors that wouldn’t bring attention to them if they were to pass anyone on the street, but he was half asleep when he got the text to meet Sunghoon outside of his dorm and didn’t care. He’s wearing a pair of Jungwon’s sweatpants, he thinks, but he’s not sure anymore. All of their closets were starting to blend together at this point.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sunghoon’s voice has gotten deeper in the last year, less boyish and more manly. He’s grown into his features and has become impossibly handsome, something Sunoo had found both frustrating and endearing all at once. He never really noticed it until they had looked at the concept photos for the album, and then it was hard not to point out.

“I can already hear you laughing at me.” Sunoo pouts as his foot shoots forward and he loses his balance, but Sunghoon’s hands are already in his and Sunoo is gripping him as tightly as humanly possible. Sunghoon is standing in front of him in the same tennis shoes he had left the apartment in, his skates (which were a little big) on Sunoo’s feet. This idea had been floating between the two of them for the past couple of months, something that took an incredible amount of begging and promises in between practices and schedules of not letting Sunoo fall on Sunghoon’s part.

“You could wear a helmet,” Sunghoon suggested one night in the back of the van on their way home from filming. He tilted his phone to show Sunoo a picture of a dinosaur helmet. It was meant to look like a stegosaurus, the bony plates on the top of the helmet looking like a mo-hawk.

“You having that mental image of me is enough to say no hyung,” Sunoo nudged his phone away and rolled his eyes. Sunghoon didn’t miss a beat, flying through more pictures of different helmets on his phone, though Sunoo wasn’t sure where he was going to get the money to buy a helmet from. The idea was sweet and gummy, something Sunoo silently chewed on in the back of the van, swallowing when they arrived to the dorms as a way to keep safe and to himself.

“I won’t,” Sunghoon retorts but it’s said with the same amused tone he uses when he’s about to succumb to a fit of giggles.

Sunoo glares at Sunghoon, who matches his height with skates on, and takes a deep breath. In the year, the two had grown closer - a lot closer. It began with the slow build up of their late night escapades, the thread strung between them that inevitably wound tight with their constant proximity. All of the members of the group had grown closer, in fact, it was inevitable like fate had played a hand in dealing their perfectly suited personalities to collide.

And yeah, maybe his little crush on Sunghoon had grown in a way that felt threatening, but he was a year older and practically an adult at eighteen, so this was nothing he couldn’t handle. Sunoo felt he was handling it well given his circumstances, not having unexpectedly overcome with emotions and jumping Sunghoon. He had this little piece of Sunghoon that no one else in the world had, something the two of them had kept under wraps and would stare at one another from across the dinner table at times and smile shyly like it was the funniest thing in the whole world.

They don’t make it to the rink as often as they had done before, with promotions and concerts and their lives as idols catching up to their dreams, it was hard to find the time to sneak away just the two of them. Traveling was a lot more common and filming, cameras, plus the new dorm layouts made it hard to flee without someone noticing. However after a full year of it, they’ve been able to keep this classified information.

Sunoo was proud of the two of them for it and wanted to celebrate by finally getting on the ice. However, Sunoo is proving to be both sides of a double edged sword, a competent and powerful dancer and a very clumsy ice skater.

“Just do it like I showed you,” Sunghoon suggests and takes a careful step back, eyes on Sunoo’s feet. “It’s easy.”

“Oh hyung you’re so funny,” Sunoo teases. He’s gotten a lot more comfortable interacting with Sunghoon without feeling like his head was going to implode, leaning a lot more into friendship than wondering what if. The words still hung over his head like the sharp blade of a guillotine, his neck on the chopping block, but if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough, he could pretend they never entered his brain in the first place.

Sunoo did as instructed though, lifting his right foot just barely off the ground and setting it back down in an easy step. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until Sunghoon dropped his hand to his ribcage, making Sunoo inhale sharply at the contact.

“Breathe Sunoo-yah,” Sunghoon insists. He’s still grinning, like he finds Sunoo’s hesitance amusing. “You can’t skate if you die.”

“Very philosophical, hyung,” Sunoo snaps without any venom. He’s so focused on the hand on his ribcage that he barely notices when he leans too far forward, hands flying to Sunghoon’s shoulders. Sunghoon’s hands slide his grip to Sunoo’s waist, pulling the boy close without thinking. Sunoo was the burnt end of a cut wire, sparking and sporadic.

Sunghoon laughs like it's the funniest thing in the world, shaking his head. “You need to focus, Sunoo.”

Sunoo grumbles out a low rambling of expletives which makes Sunghoon’s body shake with even more laughter, both of them just standing in the middle of the rink. Sunoo’s ears were hot beneath the wool of his beanie and his face was too numb to tell if he was blushing or not, but he felt his entire body burn him alive with heat when Sunghoon pulled back enough to look Sunoo back in his eyes.

“Ready to try again?”

It's innocent and alluring enough for Sunoo to nod eagerly, despite his thoughts telling him NO! He was going to fall and embarrass himself in front of Sunghoon and the thought was debilitating but he would be damned if he didn’t accept this side of Sunghoon for all it was worth, all the feelings he had to shove so far down inside of him that his stomach was starting to crave them.

So they set off again and Sunghoon is holding their gloved hands out in front of them and taking even larger steps backward as Sunoo gets a good few glides in. Sunoo can’t help but wonder if this is the appropriate way to teach someone how to skate or if somewhere deep down, Sunghoon is doing this because he feels even a tenth of what Sunoo feels, but all of that washes away when Sunghoon starts to let go of his hands.

“Do you think you can try it on your own now?” Sunghoon’s voice is velvety and it dips into whispering territory, like he’s handling Sunoo with gloves because he’s fragile and it’s filling Sunoo with syrup so he nods despondently, not wanting to say no. He’s brave enough to face embarrassment if it meant Sunghoon would be there to catch him when he fell.

Sunghoon holds out his hands as he walks away, counting out exactly twelve steps. When he turns, he’s wearing an animated expression, titling his head to Sunoo and folding his fingers into his palm in a ‘come here’ motion.

“Skate to me.”

Sunoo’s never put a label on his sexuality. He’s always just liked who he liked, boy or girl, and accepted his fluidity as playing a key role in growing up. Learning things about yourself, refining preferences. Sunoo knows he likes bright things, shiny people who attract the light and feel like they could direct it straight from their palms. Someone he hopes he can embody, share the brightness with. Sunghoon is a bright thing, a shiny person. He’s so bright and shiny that even Sunoo gets blinded by him.

At first, Sunoo had always thought his crush was an in the moment thing. He had met so many wonderful people being a trainee, was enamored by all of them, and he swore his life felt so fake that he could do whatever he wanted in the moment. He’s learned and carried so many things from those days, life lessons and irreplaceable pieces of advice, and one of those things is ever-persisting and won’t go away no matter how much he tries to push it away.

He likes Park Sunghoon.

Sunoo lifts his foot and shifts his weight into it, setting off into an awkward gait. Sunghoon doesn’t look perturbed by Sunoo’s flailing, intensely watching him with soft eyes.

“I don’t say this often,” Sunoo is talking under his breath, but he knows Sunghoon can hear him, “but I don’t know how you got so good at this.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Sunghoon calls back. He claps his hands. “I’m right here.”

“You won’t let me fall?” Sunoo questions, lifting an eyebrow at Sunghoon. It feels pointed. Unfair because Sunghoon isn’t privy to all of Sunoo’s thoughts. Please don’t let me fall, he wants to say, don’t let me fall for you.

Sunghoon’s lips part over his teeth when he smiles at Sunoo. “Never.”

The symphony his heartbeat directs is something that swells every organ in his body and powers his determination to keep that look on Sunghoon’s face. Keep his eyes on him. Sunoo’s slow-crawl pace gets him closer and closer and closer to Sunghoon and just when he’s about to give up, Sunghoon turns in step with him.

“There you go,” Sunghoon admires from only a step away, following Sunoo’s fawn-like steps just to his left. “Good job, Sunoo-yah!”

And the praise is washing over Sunoo’s body so thick he’s not sure he’s breathing air or Sunghoon’s words. His hands are outstretched on either side, insurance in case he needed to latch onto Sunghoon’s hand or shoulder like it was written in the script that gravity would work against him, or oddly in his favor. His knees close together and his arms whip out in circles, catching Sunghoon but not quick enough as he falls forward, landing on his knees before dropping, legs flailing out from underneath him.

The force is hard enough he knows they’ll bruise tomorrow but Sunghoon lands next to him and they’re both laughing with no containment, Sunoo rolling onto his back so their shoulders were together. Sunoo’s belly feels full, like he’s feasting off the breaths Sunghoon was taking with every bubble of laughter and the cold hasn’t reached through his jacket but his neck was tingling against the ice.

Sunoo thinks the best time to have a crush is in the winter. That way, no one will ever know if you're flush with a tiny bit of contact or a victim to the weather. Plus, you get free air conditioning for when your skin felt like it was going to melt off.

They’re both staring up at the rafted ceiling as their laughter dies off, Sunoo’s arms against his stomach with no intention or any idea on how to stand up in these chunky skates without Sunghoon’s help. He had fallen earlier after their arrival and spent seven and a half minutes convincing Sunoo upright again.

“Sorry hyung,” Sunoo says once his breath has slowed and he feels like he’s talking to the roof and hoping it meets Sunghoon’s ears, “I’ll do better next time.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sunghoon waves his hand in the air and it lands in the empty space between them while his other tucks under his head. “You did good on your first try.”

Sunoo’s face breaks out into a gummy smile, one he has to hide behind his gloves, knocking his hand into Sunghoon’s stomach before it too finds its way to that empty space like it was meant to be there.

Sunoo doesn’t know who reaches out first or whether their hands had been glued to opposite ends of magnets without their knowledge, but at one point the outer edges of them were touching and their pinkies linked together. Without drawing attention to it. Without Sunghoon hearing the pitter patter of Sunoo’s heart in his chest and the wave of words against his tongue that was wanting to spill, announce itself.

It was such a small act for a ginormous outcome.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Sunoo says instead, hoping to stomp out the urge to speak every word pounding against his brain. “Still.”

It was times like these that he wished he possessed Heeseung’s quiet steadiness or Jay’s perfect timing, both of them always knowing what to say at the right times.

Sunghoon looks over then, blinking at Sunoo like sleep was just seconds away.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Sunghoon breathes, “still.”

Sunoo pushes his lips together and bites into them from the inside, the temptation still present. Sunoo knows this piece of information would be enough to crack the foundation of their friendship. He knows this could break apart the group and he has no wish to do that, but it keeps boiling over in his stomach and getting clogged in his throat and he’s afraid if he doesn’t say it now, he’s going to say it at the wrong time and it’s going to do even more damage.

He’s always been one to go for things, wholeheartedly, unafraid and unbothered by rejection. His tongue was unkempt, unrefined when it came to speaking his mind. Self-control was something he still actively works on when it came to speaking his mind, but the words are loosening against his resolve because Sunghoon is gazing at him and his eyelashes are so long they’re dusting the tops of his cheeks with every blink and he’s so beautiful it hurts.

“Hyung.” The butterflies in Sunoo’s stomach are undying, taking flight and replacing every organ, vein, bone and all the blood in his body enough to feel like he was floating. He felt nauseous, like if he didn’t say it right now, he’d puke. So in the quiet of their serenity, Sunoo mutters a half-baked: “I like you.”

And the world doesn’t erupt into chaos like he expects it to. The moon doesn’t burst through the roof. Alarms don’t go off. It’s still just Sunghoon and Sunoo, staring at one another.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows raise in the slightest movement, his pinky squeezing against Sunoo’s. There’s a smile on his lips, or a smile he’s trying his hardest to fight off and it makes Sunoo look away, shifting his eyes back up to the roof. The tension is webbed, cratering holes in Sunoo’s stomach, worsening the anxiety wafting off of him.

“I-I know.”

Sunoo snaps his head back to Sunghoon, whose tongue is running through the front of his mouth, over his teeth. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, but like he’s in search of words he doesn’t know the meaning of. Flipping through definitions and synonyms like he’s trying to let Sunoo down without hurting his feelings.

“I don’t want this to change anything,” Sunoo adds so quickly he isn’t sure he’s actually said it. Sunghoon reels back for a moment, eyes blowing wide. Their pinkies never move. “I just - I needed to say it because if I didn’t I was going to explode.” And it's a sheepish excuse, a useless thing he’s uttered in hopes Sunghoon would understand because telling one of your best friends that you like them would catastrophically shift things, but Sunghoon’s never just felt like a friend.

Sunoo’s always been confident, unwilling to show any kind of weakness in the face of their jobs and always holding his head high. Being weighed down by feelings like this… it was hard to accept and something he tried to pretend didn’t matter as much as they did.

He almost regrets saying anything for a few seconds, he hopes he can brush it off as a joke and take it all back and he’s about to but Sunghoon is opening his mouth.

“O-okay,” Sunghoon swallows and Sunoo squeezes his pinky back. They both turn to look back at the ceiling like it had called for them, saying their names in order to break some of the awkwardness up in digestible chunks.

After a while, Sunghoon clears his throat.

“I don’t want it to change anything either.” He sounds shy, unsure. Sunoo doesn’t dare to look at him, hoping he can speak his mind without feeling imposed. “I’m just not there yet, Sunoo.”

Sunoo understands. Sunoo understands so well that it's hard to let his disappointment overtake the relief of having said it, having acknowledged it, mostly because he hadn’t expected the conversation to be this quick. His heart hasn’t slowed, his pinky hasn’t left Sunghoon’s, and somehow, it’s all the evidence he needs that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t change anything between them.

Because the possibility of yet outweighs everything, jumpstarting his heart more than any kind of confession he’s ever received before did.

His philandering mind wanders, trying to take him in a million directions at once, directing his wayward thoughts into a landing zone it didn’t belong, so Sunoo decides to shift gears. He sits up suddenly, a smile teasing the corner of his lips as he looks back over to Sunghoon.

“Want to help me try one more time before we go?”

The walk home is quiet compared to their laughter that bounced off the buildings of Seoul on their way there. Their shoulders brush every so often, the ebb and flow of movement carrying them there. They’re buried in oversized coats and scarves and beanies and masks that hide their identity, but Sunoo knows that even if they lost one another, he’d be able to find Sunghoon in the middle of a crowded street.

Anywhere. Anytime.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Their first kiss was clumsy. So unlike what was shown in the dramas and written about in books and so like the two of them that it was hard not to laugh into it, hot cheeks incapable of resting through their smiles.

They were in Germany for the KPOP.FLEX festival and had spent the free time after the concert at an ice skating rink. It was different than their usual atmosphere, mostly for the crowd, but because it was the first time either of them had been on the ice since Sunoo’s confession.

And though it was beautiful in Germany in May, these two were more comfortable on the ice.

Despite their hopes that things wouldn’t change between them, things had shifted, but in a good way. Sunghoon was softer, paid more attention to Sunoo around the boys, teased him as if his life depended on it. Sunoo couldn’t help but flush under the awareness of Sunghoon, of being seen by him, knowing he knew of his feelings and was trying his best not to show any disconnection of their friendship. Touches grew fewer, apprehensive little things, as Sunghoon saved those for moments when it was just the two of them. Glances between them lasted longer, like they were trying to have conversations through their eyes. However, time and space between them felt fragile.

They did hangout more outside of the ice rink, their schedules crowding so there was really no choice but to spend time together when they could. That time was often bombarded by one or more members, but the two of them were almost always together recently.

Today was special, though. This was the first time they’d room together since Sunoo’s confession.

Sunoo could feel the static electricity feeling gather in his fingertips before they had even left for the ice skating rink. It was indoor and though there weren't a bunch of people, it was still hard to act like their normal selves. And though every other time had been secret, they had to tell their manager they were going out for a bit, and were awarded a curfew as a response. Sunoo was grateful for it because even though he jumped at the opportunity for alone time with Sunghoon, that beautiful hotel bed was calling his name as he was walking out of the hotel room after they dropped off their belongings.

Sunoo had watched Sunghoon take off around the rink, gaining speed and flying past people with finesse. Sunoo waited by the rink fence again, elbows resting against the top of it as he observed Sunghoon in awe. Sunoo found himself constantly enamoured by the older boy lately, never failing to make Jungwon or Jay point it out. They’d tease Sunoo, saying Sunghoon was his favorite and Sunoo would deny it, but in some ways Sunghoon was.

Sunghoon was just as helpful with the skating this time as he was last time, never straying too far from Sunoo and close enough just in case he needed it. The few times that Sunoo had reached out for him, Sunghoon was right there, offering a shoulder and a hand at the small of his back. The act of it was inebriating. Fever inducing. Sunoo swore every touch was premeditated with the way Sunghoon was always right there, or he was always watching Sunoo in fear he’d hurt himself.

It was sweet, soft. It felt like a date without them ever putting a name on it and Sunoo would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Sunghoon had asked him. They had just ended their concert and were sitting in the van on the way to their hotel when the text from Sunghoon popped up on his phone. Sunoo glanced over at Sunghoon in the row behind him, tucked between a sleepy Jake and Jay who was trying to show Sunghoon a video on his phone, like he was worried he sent the text to the wrong person when Sunghoon just nodded once, face illuminated by the light of a phone that wasn’t his, and then cracked a slow smile that let Sunoo know it was meant for him.

They were giddy and full of smiles on their way there, but now Sunoo was giddy for an entirely different reason as they stood shoulder to shoulder in the elevator. His body was doing a slow thaw from the cold in the heat of the elevator, something he didn’t know if he could blame entirely on the temperature or his own body. It might’ve even been the hot chocolate they had burnt their tongues with on the way back to the hotel, but Sunoo would never admit it. Sunghoon was so close and smelled so good, it was hard to designate it to one cause.

The door dings open and Sunoo darts out first, knowing they both carry keys to their room. He scurries across the floor and Sunghoon lets out a laugh as he trails behind, to which Sunoo sends him a pointed glare. Things had never gotten awkward between them as their friendship was one of the most important things, as was their professionalism, but things felt weighted with Sunoo’s confession and feelings Sunoo was hoping Sunghoon was developing.

He’d never push Sunghoon to like him, but found himself questioning it every day. It happened so often Sunoo had begun to wonder if he was insane.

He opens the door as soon as Sunghoon gets close enough behind him and he pushes it in, kicking off his shoes in the entryway almost immediately. He was tired, his muscles sore from dancing and working that extra little bit on the ice, but his body felt like a cloud full of sunshine. He was happy and content after having spent time with Sunghoon, the chocolate taste still invading his mouth. He had sent a bunch of pictures they had taken at the rink to the band group chat and received a bunch of Wish I was invited texts or Looks fun, don’t die Sunoo!

He sat on the edge of his bed, the one furthest from the door, sighing on impact. He fell back against the comforter, closing his eyes at the sight of the ceiling. The long awaited bed contact.

“I had fun hyung,” he hums. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He kicks his feet out and wiggles them freely in the air. Hands finding their way above him.

“Yeah.”

Sunoo sits up on his elbows, eyebrows furrowing over to Sunghoon. He’s sitting on the desk in front of Sunoo’s bed, bottom lip curled in his mouth as he chews on it, a distant look in his eyes. He had dyed his hair silver back in November, something so bright that Sunoo had a hard time keeping his eyes off him lately. He was so pretty and it was way out of his comfort zone, but Sunoo thought it suited him well.

“Did you not have fun?” Sunoo asks, head tilting at the way Sunghoon seems to chew faster at his lip. He looked like he was ready to swallow himself whole.

“I did,” Sunghoon replies, but his voice is somewhere faraway.

“Then why do you look like that?” Sunoo pushes, sitting up and bringing his feet into his lap. He’s watching Sunghoon with the nervousness you would if you were inspecting a wild animal, unsure of whether they were going to reach out and snag their teeth into you or not. He draped his clammy hands over his jeans, indirectly wiping them off on the fabric around his knees.

“Look like what?”

“Look like you’re about to hurl,” Sunoo teases a little bit to ease this uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach and prickling at his skin. It feels like his body is about to succumb to an allergic reaction, the ghosts of itchy hives teasing his skin with a game of peekaboo. He wants to run and hide in Heeseung’s room at this moment, and maybe Heeseung would let him stay the night, tucked under the blanket forever and ever. They’d have to perform with Sunoo in a puffed out hotel blanket for the rest of their career.

“Do I?” Sunghoon asks, snickering with no amusement.

“And now you’re really starting to freak me out hyung,” Sunoo states. He’s frowning to match Sunghoon’s frown, an accidental mimic. It’s happening a lot more lately, both of them miming one another without thought. So much so that Ni-ki had pointed it out to Sunoo on time and he could only smile bashfully. “Are you okay? Do you feel sick?”

Hesitantly Sunghoon’s eyes lift to Sunoo’s before they drop back down to his hands, threading them and untangling them again and again against his thighs.

“Do you remember what you said to me the night you caught me at the ice rink?”

“No,” Sunoo's shot of honesty has him stilling at the look he receives from Sunghoon. “That was like two years ago, hyung. I talk a lot. What did I say?”

Sunghoon sighs and runs a hand through his hair, obviously debating something grand in his head and Sunoo waves a hand at him to capture his attention.

“Just talk, Sunghoonie hyung. It’s only me.”

His words were meant to be comforting but Sunghoon groans and runs a hand over his face like Sunoo was the problem, the very reason he’s struggling to speak his mind right now. So Sunoo drops back against his hands, watching Sunghoon with an expression he can only hope he reads as support and waits.

Sunghoon’s palm stops at his lips, eyes flicking between Sunoo on the bed to his bouncing leg. There’s an unkempt urgency in them that Sunoo is too tired to meet, but he’s so eager to hear.

“You said it was okay to love two things at once.”

He’s never seen Sunghoon like this before.

Sunoo nods, waiting for him to continue. That does sound like something he would say. Sunoo gives himself a mental high five at giving Sunghoon such prize advice that he still remembers it to this day.

“And I’ve been thinking a lot about it because-” Sunghoon’s words are still muffled behind his palm and Sunoo wants to laugh because it’s the same way a child would talk if they were admitting to something they’ve done something wrong. “Because it really meant a lot to me.”

He feels like he’s being transported back to that night he had told Sunghoon that he liked him, his stomach swooping in and anxiety drenching his body in little tremors. The way Sunghoon is internally fighting to free words from his lips is making Sunoo react, the empath of the group, twinning every single emotion they had.

Sunoo nods again, trying to understand where Sunghoon was going with this but entirely lost without a map.

“And you mean a lot to me.”

Sunghoon’s eyes are wide as he mutters the last of his words, Sunoo swallowing thickly. He couldn’t help it, his head was starting to spin. His crush was struggling to get out sentences and it was fear inducing because it’s Sunghoon and Sunghoon wasn’t just one thing for Sunoo. Sunghoon had his hand in nearly every corner of Sunoo’s life and it was daunting and scary and why was he looking at Sunoo like that?

“When you told me you liked me, I don’t think I was ready to hear it.” Sunghoon flat out admits and Sunoo is crushed under a wave of bright red skin. Both of them are blushing and if any of the members were to knock on the door right now, this would not paint the picture of innocence. His hands fly back down to the edge of the table and for the first time, Sunoo notices they’re trembling. “D-do you still like me?”

Sunoo thought he had a handle on all of this. His emotions were reigned in, kept close to his body, only for him to see and feel and mold. Sunoo cared for them, nurtured them himself, protected his feelings because they were the one thing that were completely his own, something he could act on or toss out at his own compliance, his own direction.

“Yes,” Sunoo’s breath escapes all logic and answers for him, “I still like you.”

“I like you too.”

Sunoo remembers the day they got told that ENHYPEN was going to debut as seven members. He remembers hugging every single one of them. He remembers the day he learned he was going to live his dream very clearly, almost as if it had happened yesterday instead of years ago. He felt as if he had never achieved something so magnificent, something so solid in his life.

This feeling rivals the one he felt that day, maybe even surpasses it. Not because it’s better or because he’s reduced himself to wanting attention from a man, but because it feels genuine, unlike so many things he’s become, so many different shapes he’s taken during his short career. Because Sunghoon is looking at him like he’s really seeing Sunoo and it feels good. Because there’s still innocence in the feelings brewing between them. Because it feels delicate and dainty and tasted like the hot chocolate they had shared with the tips of their noses red and shy smiles.

Sunoo can feel every spare inch of his skin, places he’s previously never paid attention to, as if everything was starting to work correctly once again. Butterflies was a weak way to describe the feeling in his body, something more akin to fireworks that were bursting in the depths of his stomach, something he didn’t know if he was imagining or if it were reality. He could feel the smile that spread on his face, but he wasn’t in control anymore, only a bystander inhabiting space.

“Can I kiss you?” It’s so quiet, Sunoo swears he hallucinated it but he’s nodding and Sunghoon is stepping toward the edge of the bed and there’s a trembling hand cupping his face and Sunghoon is dipping down.

Their foreheads clash together and Sunoo winces as he pulls back, a laugh bubbling up in his throat before he can stop it. Sunghoon laughs too, rubbing his skin with the back of his head and Sunoo feels like a livewire, his emotions leading his hands into grabbing either side of Sunghoon’s face and dragging their faces together.

Sunghoon’s lips are soft against Sunoo’s, a little wet from the constant pull of it in between his teeth. For a moment, neither of them move or breathe, lips barely touching. This isn’t Sunoo’s first kiss, but this feels like it is with the way he has absolutely no idea what to do with his hands or his lips or if he’s breathing right or suddenly curious if he smells bad.

But Sunghoon is melting into the kiss, their lips slotting together. It’s quick and sweet, something that they pull away from one another with shy grins and Sunoo’s hands falling to Sunghoon’s shoulders. He squeezes the muscle there.

“Is that what you were being so weird about?” Sunoo asks, looking up at Sunghoon with stars in his eyes. Sunghoon sheepishly nods before they both break out into a fit of giggles, avoiding eye contact and hiding behind hands. It feels childlike, like Sunoo and Sunghoon were back in middle school instead of nearly fully grown adults. Sunghoon is tapping his fingers on Sunoo’s knee and Sunoo can’t help but look away, hiding his grin from view.

“Can I kiss you again?” Sunghoon asks, already staring at Sunoo’s lips like that’s the only place to look and Sunoo nods.

Their second kiss was endless. It opened at the seams and Sunghoon was falling forward so Sunoo’s back was against the bed, hovering over him with his hands bracing him up. When Sunoo’s tongue ran over Sunghoon’s lips, he felt the older shudder from the shoulders down and when Sunghoon bit into Sunoo’s lip, Sunoo felt a little woozy. They had spent hours attached at the lips, experimenting, kissing until tongue twisters wasn’t just an expression used for hard words but describing them.

At one point, they ended up against the pillows and the kisses began to lose their hunger, lips numb and swollen to usage. Sunoo didn’t know how he had lasted so long without Sunghoon’s touch, without Sunghoon’s lips on his own, but he knows he never wants to part from him.

Sunghoon had pressed a kiss to Sunoo’s cheek, a tickle of sensation that made the boy unwillingly shiver.

“We should sleep.” The breath of his words ghosted against Sunoo’s skin and he smiled sleepily, pulling Sunghoon’s hand into his own and threading their fingers together.

“Goodnight Sunghoonie hyung.”

And it didn’t matter that they were both still in their clothes from the day. That jeans were biting into skin uncomfortably and Sunoo’s sweater was falling off of his shoulder. It didn’t even matter that they had to be down in the lobby packed and ready to go in just a few short hours.

Sunghoon liked Sunoo and Sunoo liked Sunghoon. This was the start of something special.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

“You’re getting better at this.”

Sunoo jumped when hands landed on his waist from behind, a pair of ice skates weaving between his. Sunghoon’s breath tickled against his jaw before he pressed a kiss against it, making Sunoo melt into the familiar touch.

“You’re going to hurt somebody if you keep trying to monopolize my attention hyung,” Sunoo reprimands, even though he makes no intention to move or leave Sunghoon’s grasp. His head tilts back and drops against Sunghoon’s shoulder, a little more confident on skates this time around.

It’s been three years since their first kiss. They had become an official couple a few months later, hiding their clasped hands under blankets when they sat with the members on the couch watching movies and kissing behind the closed doors of their bedrooms. They told the group about their relationship a few months after that, which was unnerving in the way the questions were: “What if you break up?” and “Who gets me in the divorce?” But Sunghoon always just looked at Sunoo with that sugary gaze in his eyes and it soothed any kind of worry Sunoo’s mind would conjure up.

Jay was the one who made the comment about not having to worry about accidental pregnancy scandals and all the boys laughed, congratulating them after the laughter had died off.

“I would never.” Sunghoon nosed his way along Sunoo’s jaw and band his arms around Sunoo, pulling him in. “I’m actually offended that you think I would want your attention in the first place.”

The ice rink in Seoul became a place for many, many dates through the years when they had the time. Sometimes they’d make a plan to go and forget, or end up falling asleep in one another’s bed as they waited for Jake and Heeseung to go to sleep during their long video game stints. It also remained their secret, something only the two of them knew about still. Sometimes the van would drive by it on their way to the airport and Sunoo would take a picture of the building and send it to Sunghoon, assigned to the other van. He’d receive a bunch of emojis as a reply, some of them not making sense, but he’d smile anyway.

“You’re doing it again,” Sunoo chides softly as he pats his gloved palm against the top of Sunghoon’s hand. He still got butterflies when they touched, still saw fireworks when they kissed, still got giddy when they caught eyes from across the room.

“Doing what?” Sunghoon’s chin hooks on his shoulder.

Sunoo’s learned a lot about Sunghoon in the past three years. He’s clingy and loves to hang off of Sunoo like he’s a trademarked ornament when they were alone and in the safety of their dorms. He’s slowly becoming more comfortable being himself in front of crowds and on screen, taking all of those late night talks they’ve had together to heart.

“Distracting me,” Sunoo hums. His hand meets the top of Sunghoon’s head and pets it, unable to help himself.

“Oh sorry,” Sunghoon unlatches himself and pushes away, “continue what you were doing. I’ll wait.”

Sunoo spares his boyfriend a glance before he steps forward, having become a lot more confident in the past few years. He’s steadier, more square on his feet than before. He’s not falling as often as he was the first couple of times and he owes that all to the secret lessons Sunghoon had given him.

Ice prickles against his jeans as Sunghoon flies past him, whooping loudly before he turns around and comes to a stop a few feet away. This stance is reminiscent of the one they had the night Sunoo word vomited his feelings for Sunghoon in that rink in Seoul, the feeling so alive Sunoo could feel it now. Still.

They’re not in Seoul anymore. It’s New Year's Eve and the boys were all able to go home for the holiday, so Sunoo and Sunghoon decided to split their time between their hometowns, finally introducing one another to their parents as something other than a bandmate: as boyfriends.

This is the one ice rink closest to Sunghoon’s parent’s house that allowed them to come after hours, after everyone had gone home, guaranteeing no one would come in. Sunghoon’s old coach owed him a favor, Sunghoon had said, but Sunoo thinks he rented the place out for the night.

“Remember how you told me I could love two things at the same time?” Sunghoon asks, kicking up a skate so the pointed part at his heels digs is propped up against the ice. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets, the way he does when he’s about to say something from his heart, something consuming.

“Not really,” Sunoo swallows the rock in his throat though he’s lying. Of course he remembers it.

Sunghoon looks up at him through his bangs, scrunching up his face. “I think all the vitamins you take are going to your head, Sunoo-yah.”

And they’re breaking out into grins, Sunoo’s face starting to hurt from the untameable expression that took over his face all day.

“Can I love three things at the same time?”

They’ve said they love one another before. All the time, lately. The first time was random, something that was between bites of takeout at Sunoo’s dorm table, under layered laughter and Jake’s retelling of a story that Sunoo was trying to pay attention to. Taken aback, Sunoo’s eyes widened as he looked at Sunghoon, who was already looking at him like he was the only thing in the world.

“I don’t know why you’re asking.” Sunoo shakes his head to alleviate some of the burn in his cheeks. “You can love as many things as you want hyung.”

“I love you.” His words echoed off the walls and around the empty rink, echoing in Sunoo’s chest. Loving three things at the same time, three dreams.

Being an idol, figure skating, and Sunoo.

“I love you.” Sunoo repeats. And he does. So much. They’ve grown up together. Experienced the same losses and the same mistakes. The same wins and celebrations. Sunghoon will always be a part of him, a part of his journey, a part of those years he’ll look back on and smile when he’s older. “Do something cool, hyung.”

“Something cool?” Sunghoon asks and he tilts his head to either side. His expression is debating, before he lands on his decision, a smile warming his features.

“Skate to me,” Sunghoon smirks.

And Sunghoon through the years flashes before Sunoo’s eyes. Every single version. From twenty three to seventeen, still wearing that same confident grin he got when he wore skates. All the versions Sunoo has loved, liked, was crushing on.

This version is older. Refined. Strong and handsome. He’s wearing glasses with his bangs down and that scarf Sunoo had gotten him for his birthday all those years ago, something he leaves at his parents house as a way to preserve it and not lose it in travel. It was a welcome surprise when Sunoo had found it in his childhood bedroom just yesterday and Sunghoon tried to play it off, but his sister gave him away as she passed his open bedroom door.

Sunoo plays coy. “You won’t let me fall?”

Sunghoon pauses for a brief moment, like he’s having the same reaction to his words that Sunoo did, watching every version of Sunoo shift before his eyes. It floods Sunoo with warmth, watching his dark eyes soften from this distance. Sunoo doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to the way Sunghoon gazes at him, like every star is hung personally by him. It catches him off guard when they’re across the room from one another and suddenly he’s being reeled in by Sunghoon’s impossible eyes, staring at him like he’s endless. Like they’re endless.

“Never.”