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There were some people that appeared larger than life. Not because they had the most power, influence over millions, or the wealth of nations. Material worth didn’t factor into the equation in Jeongin’s head regarding the impressive nature of certain individuals. It was the way that their mere words could be so all encompassing, completely surrounding his mind and body that everything they wanted became what you wanted. It was rare for two people like that to meet, let alone get along.
It was near impossible for those two to fall in love.
Seungmin was his impossibility, his cut red string of fate woven around his wrists into willing handcuffs of need and safety.
All of the members were soulmates and simply adored each other, but ever since the beginning there was always this cosmic force drawing Jeongin closer and closer to this puppy-eyed, soft-hearted singer. He had just as much snark and sass as he had compassion and patience; even as young, rowdy boys, there was some part of Seungmin that was clearly different from the other trainees. When speaking to Jeongin he would be respectful, kind, but also a bit more lighthearted and silly than he would have originally thought a senior of his to be capable of. A lot of the time it felt as though Jeongin was his senior, which would usually give him a headache, but it was clearer that day that their symbiotic relationship was stronger than steel. From then on, the second they locked eyes in the practice room, it would always be Seungmin and Jeongin, Jeongin and Seungmin. There was no separating the two, just as one cannot separate the north from the south pole.
The older Jeongin got, the more he learnt how crucial Seungmin’s presence was to him. When he was sick and couldn’t make it to practice, there was an obvious lack within him. He didn’t like to think about their codependence, how so many things in their lives were reliant on the other being there, but it didn’t always present itself as a negative thing. In times where Jeongin was indecisive or anxious, there was always a shoulder he could rest on. He’s praised Seungmin’s comfort and love before to STAY, and even if he’d pay him back soon after with petty sarcasm, behind the screens and brotherly laughter was a deep gratitude for a feeling Jeongin didn’t know how to put into words for the longest time.
Loving Seungmin is one of the easiest things Jeongin has ever done. But it’s also been one of the most debilitating. He doesn’t worry the same way he does for others that he does for his Seungmin-hyung, he isn’t capable of receiving physical touch a noticeable percent of the time because the pestering of Hyunjin or antics of Jisung don’t satisfy the same itch the way a light brush of Seungmin’s hand or a simple smile against his own does. A certain part of himself and his happiness is locked behind the identity and safety of another man. Regardless of whether they loved each other or not, Jeongin didn’t know what to do with himself around Seungmin sometimes.
There was the man that had saved his life time and time again, held his hand through all of his challenges and joys, kissed him senseless until he knew nothing but the feeling of their bodies merging, wiped the tears leaking out of dead eyes. Seungmin was his everything. Everything he knew, everything he loved, and everything he could ever care about.
But there was something simpler about his eternal infatuation, something equally as perfect as it was terrifying to the very idea of them being together.
The small moments of peace between them. The glances to each other during filming, the slight curve of Seungmin’s angel lips seeding sparks through his bones. Initially, the feeling is electrocuting, all encompassing, but there is a separate beauty in the flickers of flame that lay low afterwards. Behind the physicality, the declarations of mutual adoration, the simple acts of service done daily, there were minute, more private idiosyncrasies.
The specific way Seungmin pushes hair out of his face, shaking lightly like a puppy. While both of them know that Jeongin is always glad to help, sometimes he likes simply taking a second to stare. He is always so infinitely endeared by his dear hyung, but just as much as he loves to see him happy he relishes in the small struggles too.
Eating out with Seungmin, or any of the members, is so commonplace and typical that he doubts any of them could survive without having at least one meal together a day. And there are many things to love about Seungmin, shown in so many ways, but it’s all packaged in the most precious of gifts when they are out together. His respectfulness with the staff, the easy way in which he socializes, just the precise right amount of thinking about each dish, the groans and sighs that escaped his pleasured body adorable as they are questionable.
Hearing his voice, regardless of circumstance, is always one of his life’s greatest privileges. There’s a certain difference in inflection he’s heard in Seungmin’s tone that shows what he’s truly feeling; the knowledge is even more special seeing as it appears Jeongin is the only one who cares or notices. The tenser he gets, the higher his tone raises until it flattens into a monotone nothingness. Sadness aims to hide in normalcy, but Jeongin has learnt to spot out his masking like a hawk spies out its prey. Happiness is the most beautiful, as expected— light blue softness swirling around low voices so quiet it feels like only ghosts can hear them at times.
So much of Seungmin were things only Jeongin would ever have the joy of knowing. Some were habits that even the man himself hadn’t noticed, though he’d prefer not to out himself for knowing the unobtainable. There was the anxiety that those things would be lost to time, slowly fading into obscurity as the two of them grow older and, eventually, apart—
Jeongin blinked. His back laid flat against a soft mattress, the ceiling fan rotating about its circle of cooling. There was a mysterious feeling of something amiss; perhaps, it was simply grogginess, but he doubted that the tension in his chest was caused solely by the struggle of slumber. A presence moved with each inhale, aligning to his own softly yet with a heavy weight.
He tries not to overthink, even as he goes to bed, but those thoughts stay with him even through his unconscious mind’s ramblings and tangents. It’s an endless loop of Seungmin for Jeongin, day in and day out he is a constant presence everywhere he goes.
Dozing off is easy enough with his hyung just as attuned to him as Jeongin is to all the inner going-ons of his brain. Unconsciously or not, the older tightens his grip on his waist, soft exhales falling on the sensitive skin of Jeongin’s collarbones. He really was just like a big puppy, clingy and sweet. Jeongin doesn’t know what he’d do without him.
~
Jeongin woke up earlier than he had wanted, no doubt because of the ruminations of his mind late into the night. Still, nothing could take away the bliss of waking up next to Seungmin, such a rare sight for him.
For the few company allotted days of rest they got, Seungmin surprised him with time just for the two of them. Hotel booked, restaurants reserved and everything. For the both of them, it felt good to be able to relax a little and just be. There were only so few opportunities in their perpetually surveilled and busy lives to do that. Waking up with Seungmin close, breaths aligned with the beating of their synced up hearts, was a joy he wasn’t going to ever forget or take for granted.
Pushing open the curtains, the sun immediately poured into the room with all of its warm, golden splendor. He heard Seungmin groan into the sheets, rustling around to avoid the glaring light sent straight at his eyes. Jeongin chuckled in endearment, widening them only to further his annoyance. He was so easy to rile up sometimes.
“Yah, Iyen-ah,” he mumbled, the edges of his morning voice painted with the kind of intimate sweetness Jeongin only ever received. “I can’t see you if you’re blinded by light.”
“Since when was saying ‘good morning’ so out of fashion for you?” He chuckled, pushing Seungmin’s bangs away gently. “Hi, hyungie.” Seungmin’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and it seemed that Seungmin was about to fall into the clutches of slumber all over again if it weren’t for the sudden boost of energy he had, sitting up at attention. Quickly, he pressed his eyes shut, blocking out the last of his grogginess in the cutest manner possible.
“Jeongin-ah…”
“Yeah, hyung?”
“Dance with me today?”
It was an odd request, if you didn’t know Seungmin that well. He loved to maintain his slightly cold, snarky, bratty exterior as a cat groomed its fur. With the boys, it was still present, but fully treated as a fun character the singer enjoyed playing rather than his genuine personality. The closer one got to him, the more he felt comfortable letting go of that exterior and letting his true, vulnerable self shine. Jeongin was lucky to have access to that inner world.
Grabbing his hands, just barely smaller than Jeongin’s, his heart felt as though it would burst out of his chest. There was something special about this moment, pieces of it both comfortingly familiar and achingly precious, locking itself away in the crevices of his mind only to be drawn out in his final moments. Sometimes, it was good to just let the times with each other grow and blossom at their own pace; it felt nice.
Just as his hyung had meticulously planned and promised. It all appeared to move by in a blur of happiness— simply moving from place to place and subconsciously letting himself take it all in. His current focus was the man he was sharing these memories with; the whole time he was staring at Seungmin like a lovesick fool trying to figure out what changed between way-back-when and that morning. Perhaps time had finally solidified things, the last piece of their puzzle slotting into place unceremoniously.
The only real things he could remember were unsubstantial: walking slowly along the promenade and taking notice of all the tiny details, speaking causally and of nothing in particular, watching the bikers and cars speed past them in smudges while slowly sipping their coffee. Jeongin has done all of these things before with Seungmin, even the other members—
Yet. That wasn’t the full story.
Something was different. Either with him or the world, the typical air of casualness that pervaded nearly every action they’d done before was gone. Rather, it was replaced with a strange sense of domesticity, their familiarity with each other still a comfort while also remaining eerily new and exciting. It was as though they had just gotten together all over again, except the dried carcasses of the butterflies of youth had been used to fertilize the strongest of milkweeds and asters.
Walking back to their place, whether it be a hotel or their dorm, was a common ritual between the two. Oftentimes because of vocal lessons or schedules, one of the two or both would be taking the same rail or bus line home because of timing. It was simply convenience initially, but those times too became treasured memories to Jeongin throughout the years.
Jeongin glanced at Seungmin, finding him paying seemingly perfect attention to what was in front of him; his brief looks upward betrayed him. “I can hear you thinking, hyung.”
“Do you ever wonder how people made constellations?” he sighed, instinctively grabbing Jeongin’s hand for support. “I know it’s because we saw shapes in them, but what if it’s the other way around? What if the shapes were always there in the sky and the stars just allowed them to shine?”
He paused, thinking hard on how to respond until Seungmin laughed low under his breath, youthful and pure. “Just a passing thought, Iyen-ah, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worrying about it.” he said. “M’thinking about it too.”
Jeongin didn’t need constellations, didn’t feel the need for stars of guiding light. He had the biggest, brightest of lights right by his side. His whole, utter, complete universe.
“Wouldn’t it hurt, being a star? Just a piece of a grand puzzle… sounds lonely,” he mused, just saying the first thing that came to mind.
Seungmin smiled at him, angel lips kind and understanding just as his eyes were.
“I think that makes it exciting, no? The course of its destiny would be firmly in its hands.” He raised their own connected ones and pressed a kiss to Jeongin’s knuckle. It was small, short, and frankly if he wasn’t paying attention to Seungmin as dutifully as he was (like always), then he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Every boring tomorrow feels exciting.”
“You sound like you have experience.”
“Being a star? Hello, this is Stray Kids Seungmi—”
“That’s not what I mean!” he giggled, lightly punching him in the arm. “But I don’t think you can say that unless you’ve been through the feeling, you know?”
“Well, you’re my star. And I don’t say that to be cheesy,” he chuckled, understanding his own irony. “You’re this bright light clearing out the fog. All the way back when you were just that little boy from Busan.”
Jeognin couldn’t help the feeling of his heart beating against his ribs, threatening to break the bones to leap out.
“Flustered you too much, didn’t I?”
“Shut up!”
Seungmin didn’t retort, a move that in any other situation would have actually annoyed him more. He looked around himself quickly before pressing a kiss to the corner of Jeongin’s lips, the both of them blushing and smiling like two idiodic schoolboys. Less than the possibility of being caught— though the risk had been running high all day if anyone recognized them— it was the sudden softness of the two that caught Jeongin off guard. From someone usually so intense in his everything and everyday, this new youthful embarrassment endeared him.
Those smiles remained engraved on their faces even after they were both ready for slumber once more. Jeongin couldn’t rid himself of this juvenile giddiness. He didn’t know exactly why but he was feeling strange. Today meant something, at least internally; there was a secret weight to even the smallest of actions. In fact, it was those moments of typicality that were throwing him in a loop.
He confronted Seungmin about this as they were settling down, a near direct mirror to how they woke up. Looking at him, the tightness in his chest blooming, was a bit more agonizing than before. It ached in a tender way, and he began to understand how his star could feel excitement for the ordinary day. Until tomorrow came, they didn’t have to worry. Not about the grandiose, the consequences, or the obsession. Just the fact of the two of them together as enough was enough. Devotion was such an integral part of Jeongin and everything; it takes so much trust to build a relationship where he can feel that strong of a connection in the first place.
“Do you think we’ll last like this forever, hyung?” he mumbled to no one in particular; even though he was referring to Seungmin, Seungmin was always with him in his heart, so sometimes he would call out to him even though he wasn’t there. “Like the way we are now?”
“M’surely. What else is there?” Seungmin turned over, eyes already shut. “Don’t worry ‘bout anythin’ right now.”
When Seungmin said it, his voice still stable and calm and beautiful, low or high; still the same.
Maybe it was the normalcy of today that wasn’t normal. He’s fine with how they are now; it’s no longer this feeling buried underneath layers of intimidation and awe. There was still respect between the two of them, just as much as there was love, but this was different. Being with Seungmin wasn’t meant to feel constrictive, and while it never did, there were times when the tightness in his chest was anxiety tied in knots around genuine flusterness.
Everything that stuck him as odd today was simply his mind finally understanding it was okay to just be. He and Seungmin already had it all, and perhaps because his mind has always been in “on” mode and he’s never been able to fully internalize anything as safe, but there was no moment to rest. In a way, he had treated him and his beloved like he would treat work.
Initially, there was a sting in his chest, of disappointment and guilt. But there was no reason to hold onto memories that only served to soil the good ones. And all of the good ones lived and served as a patchwork; rather than one large instance, it was in everything that pervaded the two.
Being with Seungmin meant happiness. And in his happiness, every small moment mattered. Everything that was Seungmin and Jeongin, Jeongin and Seungmin, was beautiful theirs and hidden in the joys of small moments.
And to Jeongin, his happiness was in the little things.