Work Text:
I.
Taeyang considered himself a fairly calm, hard-to-catch-off-guard kind of person. It was one of the main reasons he made it this far in the industry without losing his mind. But there was something about predebut season that got to him. The atmosphere was tense and the constant practising was draining. While he was confident in his vocal abilities, dancing was a whole other thing. Jiung had been a huge help, but there was so much on everyone's plates that Taeyang felt guilty taking up any of his time.
When auditioning, he didn't take into account that one of his jobs would be to serve as a mediator between the other members, especially Keeho and Jiung. These days, the atmosphere was charged, putting everyone on edge and it seemed like their debut would get delayed.
He yawned, checking the time. Sometimes he got a little lost in between the schedules. He knew they were supposed to meet in the studio in a bit, but he honestly had no recollection as to why.
Everyone was already gathered in the room when he arrived. After greeting each other, he took a second to breathe and observe, trying to distract himself from how hungry he was.
Siren’s backtrack was playing in the background, and Taeyang was so sick of it that he entertained the idea of simply leaving and switching companies again. Not that he would, but he could probably sing Siren in reverse at this point.
Keeho and Shota were huddled in one corner of the room with music sheets spread in front of them, but based on their hushed whispers, Taeyang doubted they were currently working. Jiung was sitting on the couch with headphones on, presumably deep in thought, twirling a pen in his hand. Intak was sitting on the floor by his legs, watching what looked like a choreography video on his phone. He turned his screen towards Jiung a few times, but got no reaction. Taeyang’s eye twitched at the disinterest written plainly across Jiung’s face.
He turned his gaze toward the remaining members of the group. Jongseob was sitting on the other side of the same couch as Jiung. Taeyang almost snorted at the noticeable gap between them. Jongseob was staring into space, phone in hand, absentmindedly bouncing his leg.
Taeyang didn't know much about Jongseob beyond the achievements Jiung and the others boasted about. They’d talked plenty by now, but never about anything substantial. Taeyang had no background in songwriting and their lives had been so different that he figured they simply wouldn't see eye to eye, which wasn’t anything unusual in idol groups. At the very least, he hadn’t expected to get along with him the way he did with Keeho, whom Taeyang saw as a more extroverted version of himself, and who kept clinging to him. Not that Taeyang minded.
Even though the others seemed to work closely with Jongseob, one thing that he'd noticed was how much time he spent alone. As someone who valued his alone time, Taeyang understood the need to decompress after a long day, but he wasn’t sure it was entirely by choice on Jongseob’s part.
He glanced back at Keeho and Shota, chuckling to themselves, with Keeho's arm thrown over Shota’s shoulders. The two of them had been gravitating toward each other a lot lately, which wasn’t surprising. Keeho liked to dote on the youngest pair and Shota liked to be doted on. The ease and care in their interactions never failed to make Taeyang hopeful about the group.
Since Jongseob was one of the final members to join FNC, Taeyang understood why he might have a tough time fitting in. However, as days went by, there was an uneasy feeling creeping into the back of Taeyang’s mind.
What if he wasn’t doing enough?
What if Jongseob felt left out?
Taeyang wasn't one to baby anyone, too cold and blunt for it, but compared to Shota, Jongseob seemed less inclined to it, too. He started to feel guilty about not paying enough attention to him—too busy and distracted by responsibilities. All of a sudden, this felt like his responsibility too.
Since they would be spending basically every day together from now on, Taeyang wanted to bond with every member, as long as they were receptive to it. His earlier thoughts about simply accepting the lack of closeness between him and Jongseob felt almost ridiculous now.
Before he could spiral, Taeyang moved toward Jongseob, who immediately looked up, as if he was hoping to be approached.
“Hyung!”
The genuine smile on Jongseob's face made his stomach twist.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Taeyang asked casually.
“Nothing much, I'm just waiting.” Jongseob shrugged.
“For?”
“I've finished everything overnight already,” he replied, as if it were nothing.
From Taeyang’s perspective, staying up all night to work at fourteen was not nothing. His stomach kept protesting, hunger overtaking it this time. It gave Taeyang an idea.
“Did you eat?” he asked.
“Uh,” Jongseob tilted his head, looking up in thought.
That was more than enough of an answer.
“Come on, I'm starving,” Taeyang stated.
Jongseob looked around, his eyes flicking between the members.
Taeyang did the same.
No one was paying them any attention, but Jongseob still seemed reluctant to leave out of nowhere.
“Keeho-ssi!” Taeyang exclaimed louder than the small room warranted, but the way Keeho flinched made it worth it.
“Yeah?” He turned to him, attention fully on Taeyang.
“We,” he gestured between himself and Jongseob, “are going to the store.”
“But—” Keeho started, frowning.
“Do you want anything?” Taeyang cut in, making it clear he wasn't asking for permission.
Keeho glanced between them.
“No, thanks.”
One thing Taeyang had always appreciated about Keeho was the trust and respect he showed him, making their relationship feel mutual on all levels. Still, Keeho sometimes enjoyed questioning him just for the sake of light-hearted drama, so Taeyang mentally thanked him for not pushing it right now. If he were anyone else, he would have sighed in relief, but instead, he just shifted his gaze back to Jongseob and nodded toward the door.
Jongseob jumped up. He was way too excited for a boring convenience store run in Taeyang’s opinion, but it brought an unexpected wave of fondness over him. He knew he'd made the right choice in inviting him.
It was already dark by the time they left the building. The closest store Taeyang knew of was just down the street, but he thought a short walk might be pleasant, so he turned in the opposite direction.
Jongseob was rather quiet on the way, but Taeyang had noticed that he could go down a rabbit hole when talking about his interests. As far as he knew, Jongseob indulged in reading and video games these days. He overheard him mentioning it to Shota the other day. Or was it Jiung? Taeyang wasn't sure. It was all background noise to him during their schedules, but he remembered there was a book left on the table in the studio.
“What’s the book you brought along about?” Taeyang started, hoping to talk about anything other than work.
“Oh, it's a coming-of-age story about this boy,” Jongseob replied.
Taeyang waited for him to elaborate, but it seemed Jongseob was done. His brows twitched. He peeked at him, but Jongseob was just quietly staring ahead.
“Do you like it?” Taeyang tried again, scrunching up his face. He sounded like he was talking to a middle schooler, which wasn’t entirely off, but it still came out pretty awkward.
“It's okay so far.” Jongseob gave an even shorter answer this time.
Taeyang looked at him, less subtly this time, trying to see if he simply wanted to walk in peace with zero words said. Taeyang could do that easily, but judging by Jongseob's evasive eyes, he had doubts.
Not one to beat around the bush, Taeyang spoke up, “Hey, what's going on?”
“Nothing.” Jongseob shook his head, examining the sidewalk and kicking the closest rock toward the road.
“Do you want to talk about something else?”
“No, I don't want to bore or annoy you.” Jongseob shrugged it off.
This wasn't going the way Taeyang had expected.
He frowned and nudged Jongseob's shoulder. “What are you talking about? I was the one who asked.”
“Yeah, but I could go on forever about that.”
“So?”
Jongseob remained quiet. Taeyang ran the conversation back, eyes flicking in concentration.
Oh.
“Keeho is annoying all the time,” Taeyang said, a faint smile on his lips to show he wasn't genuinely insulting him.
Jongseob laughed, but probably more out of surprise than anything, Taeyang thought.
Seeing an opportunity, he continued, “I don't always understand Jiung's musings about philosophy or whatever it is either.”
Jongseob hummed, seemingly thinking about what Taeyang said.
“But they are Keeho and Jiung, you know? They aren't my age.”
“Shota is.”
“Shota and I are different.” Jongseob shook his head in frustration. Taeyang guessed he wasn't interpreting things the way Jongseob wished.
“I don’t care how old you are,” Taeyang replied. It wasn’t strictly true, but it was the closest he could get to what he meant.
Jongseob huffed, kicking another rock a little harder.
“Jongseob-ah,” Taeyang let slip out, “I like listening to you. You are not boring me and I'm not annoyed. If you want to rant, you can. If you want a quiet walk, we can do that instead. I'm pretty flexible when it comes to this.”
He let the silence settle.
The voice in his head grew louder, insisting that this was wrong. Jongseob shouldn’t feel self-conscious about talking to him.
“Why did you ask me to come with you to the store?” Jongseob asked after a moment, his eyes fixed on Taeyang’s, as if searching for something—a deeper reason.
There wasn't one.
Taeyang answered with a simple truth.
“Because we are both hungry and I wanted to spend some time with you.”
It took a second before Jongseob chuckled softly. Taeyang thought it was kind of cute, letting the relief wash over him.
Jongseob was so young.
“Okay,” Jongseob whispered.
At the store, he told Jongseob to get whatever he wanted while he scoured the sandwich section. Ignoring his diet, he didn't check the packaging and grabbed two that looked the most appetising.
He looked over the milk section and wavered. The others might get hungry later on. If not, they'll just take it to the dorm.
Taeyang ended up with a full basket.
“You can eat all that?” Jongseob asked sceptically, throwing some things of his own into the mix.
“Of course,” Taeyang deadpanned.
He rushed them a bit because they’d been gone for longer than he planned and he started to feel guilty. The walk back was quick and Jongseob was more talkative, so Taeyang knew the trip was worth it.
When they came in, Keeho informed them that the plan was to rehearse the whole album, but in a more casual setting. Taeyang thought it was unnecessary and made no sense, but he had no energy to argue.
The couch was now occupied by both Intak and Jiung, leaving only one free space, so he put the bag of groceries on the table and headed towards the corner of the room with a sandwich in hand. He sat down, leaning against the wall and began unwrapping his dinner.
He blinked in surprise when Jongseob joined him with his own meal. Taeyang expected he'd return to his spot on the couch, but instead Jongseob wordlessly sat down next to him.
Taeyang smiled to himself.
II.
Taeyang wished he had known earlier how easy they had it last year. After their second mini-album came out, it was straight up impossible to catch a break. He couldn't remember the last time he slept through the night, talked about anything other than work or went out anywhere that wasn't arranged by the company.
There was so much pressure due to their company being broke as fuck, the whole world isolating, which meant no fan meetings, and on top of it, Taeyang’s cycle of dieting, overworking himself and then immediately regretting it, was unbearable.
The main thing keeping Taeyang afloat was the members.
Keeho and Jiung's relationship had drastically improved after they debuted and Taeyang thought it was a very hard-earned victory. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but at least it meant Intak wasn’t forced to escape his own dorm regularly. Taeyang would never admit it to anyone, but selfishly, he missed Intak's spontaneous visits whenever he got kicked out.
The ‘babies’, as they sometimes called them, were living with him. Taeyang’s biggest worry, which was Jongseob feeling left out, was long gone. Integrating him into the group took a little longer than Taeyang would've liked, but it was still a smooth process in the end. He was pleased to see the result of his and everyone else's efforts.
Thinking back to how often he’d inserted himself and Jongseob into conversations, subtly pointed out shared interests, or enforced bonding activities, it all felt a little much. Still, as long as it worked, Taeyang was satisfied.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet before the others finished their recording. Taeyang would've preferred to come later rather than be stuck here on the couch waiting for the next schedule, with too much makeup drying out his skin, but there was nothing to be done about it.
He was about to grab his headphones when Keeho barged in.
There had been a touch of tension between Keeho and the others lately. Everyone was stressed and on edge, so Keeho's non-compromising attitude, which he'd recently adopted, wasn't helpful. However, Taeyang could never imagine what being the leader was like. Unlike Jiung and Keeho, he never had any interest in taking on those kinds of responsibilities, so he gave Keeho a bit of grace.
“Hey, all done?” Keeho asked, throwing himself next to Taeyang on the couch.
Taeyang hummed affirmatively in response.
He went for his headphones, but Keeho interrupted him once again.
“Can I talk to you about something?” he asked.
Taeyang scanned his face. Keeho looked serious, which made him tense up.
“Nothing bad!” Keeho waved his hand around.
Since when was Taeyang so easy to read?
“Just… It's about Jongseob.”
“Jongseob?” Taeyang straightened up.
“Yeah, after the argument he had with Intak yesterday, he barely talked,” Keeho said, tone dejected.
Huh? Why didn’t he know about this?
“What argument?”
Based on Keeho’s expression, he was genuinely surprised by Taeyang's confusion.
“You don't know? But… it was between Jongseob and Intak,” he said, not making any sense to Taeyang.
“What does that mean?”
Keeho stared at him.
“Nothing. Just thought one of them would tell you,” he shrugged, eyes shifting away.
Taeyang had no energy for Keeho's vagueness, so he decided to just focus on the main issue. “What was the argument about?”
“I'm not sure, but it was something about the new songs,” Keeho shook his head. “You should ask Jongseob about it.”
“Okay?” Taeyang furrowed his brow. “Why me, though? I don't partake in that.”
Taeyang would talk to Jongseob anyway, but he didn’t expect to be helpful when it came to lyricism. Keeho or Jiung typically sorted arguments like these. They usually started them too.
“Are you serious? Don't tell me you haven't noticed.” Keeho’s eyes widened.
“Notice what?” Taeyang pushed the words out through his teeth, losing patience.
“That kid is like obsessed with you.” Keeho chuckled.
Taeyang frowned.
Jongseob?
“No, he's not.” Taeyang knew they spent a lot of time together around their debut, but he’d stopped hoarding him after everyone got to know each other much better.
“Dude, he's stuck to you all the time.” Keeho sat up, exasperated, like Taeyang was an elementary schooler unable to understand basic equations. Taeyang didn’t appreciate the faintly condescending tone.
“Okay? So is Intak.” He thought it was kind of funny, even cute, how the other members seemed to orbit him.
“Yeah, because he's also obsessed with you.” Keeho rolled his eyes, acting as if it were common knowledge.
“You cling to me all the time, too.” Taeyang raised his brow.
“Touché.” Keeho pursed his lips.
Huh? Taeyang side-eyed him.
“Nothing,” Keeho dismissed with a wave of his hand.
“Oh my god, you’re ac-”
“Okay, okay. Listen!” Keeho raised his hands in defence. “I just thought he talked to you, but I guess not.” Keeho still had a slightly baffled expression on his face. Taeyang didn't understand why he had trouble getting over it.
“He didn't talk to anyone then…?” Keeho trailed off, slumping back against the couch.
Taeyang froze. It finally dawned on him.
Jongseob didn't talk to anyone.
“Are you sure?” Taeyang asked.
“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” Keeho sighed, closing his eyes.
He studied Keeho’s frame. There was an ever-present tension in his body, the makeup barely covering up the dark circles Taeyang knew were under his eyes. It was an unwelcome sight.
Taeyang shifted his attention back to Jongseob, but it brought upsetting thoughts all the same. He hoped that Jongseob only needed a little extra time to gather his thoughts and would reach out to one of them. The sooner, the better.
He could really use some of Intak's positivity right now.
“I'll talk to him.” Taeyang nodded. That was never up for debate.
Neither of them said anything more. Taeyang played around on his phone, thoughts too busy to enjoy listening to any music right now.
Intak was the next one to come in. Taeyang immediately turned to him but stopped at the expression on his face.
He looked distraught.
“Have any of you seen Jongseob?” he asked frantically.
Both Taeyang and Keeho were standing in the blink of an eye.
“What do you mean?” Taeyang automatically grabbed Intak's hand for comfort.
Intak ran the other one through his hair, messing up all the styling—not that it mattered anymore.
“His shoot ended a little before mine, but…” he hesitated, eyes jumping between his and Keeho's, “we had a disagreement and he left and hasn't replied to any of my messages and didn't pick up his phone and Jiung and Shota are still filming so they don't know anything,” he spat out, working himself up.
“You argued again?” Keeho moved closer, sounding upset, too.
Intak looked genuinely remorseful.
This wasn't going anywhere.
“Okay,” Taeyang jumped in, clapping his hands together to grab their attention. “Jongseob is still in this building, so there is no need to worry. I’m going to look for him. Both of you sit down. If there's an issue, I will call you.” Taeyang said, using his no-nonsense tone.
Grabbing his phone from the table, he left the room without waiting for a response and dialled Jongseob's number.
If he didn't pick up…
“Hyung?”
Taeyang let out a relieved breath. Everything was going to be fine. He would help fix it.
“Jongseob-ah, where are you?” he asked, immediately feeling calmer.
“Why?”
Jongseob sounded uncharacteristically petulant. If it were any other situation, Taeyang would've teased him about it.
“Jongseob-ah, don't make send Intak after you,” Taeyang said lightly.
He heard a groan followed by a chuckle. “I'm just sitting outside. I went through the side door next to the bathroom,” he mumbled.
Taeyang hung up with a clear destination in mind. Jongseob didn’t sound distressed, which was a huge weight off his chest. The image of Jongseob suffering alone somewhere, when Taeyang was within reach, was just unacceptable.
He found him easily, exactly where he said he’d be, sitting on the curb by the door. His hunched posture, arms resting on his knees, head lowered onto them with only his eyes peeking out, gave the impression of someone who had spent the past few days lost in his own thoughts.
Taeyang clicked his tongue and sat down beside him. Leaning back on his hands, he stared ahead, waiting for Jongseob to speak. He was getting better at recognising when Jongseob needed a push and when his presence alone was enough to make him talk.
Taeyang started humming a random song to pass the time.
Jongseob shifted beside him, and he heard a shaky inhale followed by a soft whimper. His eyes shot to him. Jongseob was barely holding back tears, his knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping his knees.
Taeyang turned to him instantly and opened his arms. “Come here, Jongseobie.”
Jongseob fell into his embrace, burying his face in Taeyang’s neck, with arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Taeyang sighed.
This kid.
Hearing Jongseob’s muffled sobs so close made Taeyang’s eyes well up in record time. He wasn’t the type to cry easily, but there was something about seeing people he cared about in tears that unsettled him.
The longer they sat there, the harder it became for him to hold them back.
He gave up in the end, letting out a wet chuckle. What a sight they made, crying their eyes out on the pavement in the middle of the day.
It didn’t matter.
Jongseob was the priority.
Eventually, Jongseob slumped against him, exhausted from his emotional release. Taeyang wiped his eyes, wincing at how puffy his face must look. He rested his head against Jongseob’s and closed his eyes. His phone remained silent, meaning the recording had to still be in progress.
“Sorry,” Jongseob mumbled.
Taeyang clicked his tongue. “Yah, don’t speak nonsense.”
Jongseob pulled away, glancing at him before quickly looking elsewhere. He inhaled shakily, rubbing his eyes.
Taeyang pressed his lips together, displeased. There was nothing to be ashamed of.
“Jongseobie, why didn't you talk to me? Or anyone?” It was the main thing Taeyang desperately needed an answer to, so he could prevent it from happening again.
“It’s just a part of the job.” Jongseob shook his head.
“What is?” Taeyang frowned.
“The stress? Disagreements? I don’t know.”
Taeyang hummed, trying to follow Jongseob’s train of thought. It would be a lie to say those things weren’t part of their everyday lives. He’d witnessed countless pointless arguments. He was overworked and overwhelmed, too, especially these past couple of months, but…
“That doesn’t mean you can’t ask for comfort." Taeyang leaned closer, trying to catch his gaze. It was essential for Jongseob to understand this, more than anything.
“I can handle it. I’ve been doing this for years.”
From what Taeyang had heard, those years left Jongseob mourning a carefree childhood he never got to experience. While Taeyang couldn’t change the past, he could affect the present. So could Jongseob and everyone else. All he needed was to get it through Jongseob’s thick skull that there were six of them now—and would be for the foreseeable future. They were supposed to be each other’s safe space, for fuck’s sake. He knew every single member would jump at the chance to offer comfort to, frankly, anyone who needed it.
“You are an idiot.” He didn’t enjoy insulting teenagers, but he knew Jongseob was familiar with him enough to recognise the real sentiment he was trying to convey. He saw Jongseob roll his eyes, so Taeyang shoved him, just a bit, making Jongseob look at him.
“Jongseob-ah, if we want our group to function, we have to be honest with each other. It’s okay to be alone and take your time working things through.” Taeyang had no ground to argue otherwise, since he did the same thing regularly. “But if there’s a conflict, we have to talk about it. If you want comfort, you can ask for it and you will get it, no questions asked.”
Jongseob’s eyes grew glossy, but no tears fell—only a raspy, “Okay.”
“And talk to Intak,” Taeyang couldn’t help but add.
“Yes, mom,” Jongseob replied, dripping with sarcasm.
Taeyang’s phone pinged, interrupting their staring contest. He got up without acknowledging it and nodded towards the door.
“Wait, hyung.” Jongseob stood up as well. He was visibly hesitating, wringing his hands together, face still a little blotchy from crying.
Taeyang tilted his head and waited, sensing the importance of the moment.
“I’m really happy that I debuted with you. All of you,” Jongseob said softly.
Taeyang couldn’t conceal the smile even if he tried.
“Us too.”
III.
Taeyang was considering going shopping for clothes. It was something he rarely did, but with his current hairstyle and new guitars filling up the studio, there was a certain vibe he thought he could enhance with the right outfit. Keeho regularly made fun of his fashion style, or rather, his lack of it, but dressing like a rockstar wasn’t a hard concept to grasp. He ran a hand through his long black hair, feeling deep satisfaction. He wanted to take advantage of it before the company cut it.
He put down the book he’d been reading for barely thirty minutes and got up from the couch. Jongseob had been trying to get him back into reading for a while, and he had to admit that it was starting to work. There was a list of books Jongseob, and even Jiung, had recommended in his notes app. He had come to find that even though their preferences for genres varied, he had a good time just sitting in their company and silently reading. It was another reminder of how intertwined their lives were.
He padded toward Jongseob’s room. It was Friday afternoon, and the last time he checked, Jongseob was also reading something in his room, so Taeyang had no problem bothering him. The habit of inviting Jongseob along whenever he went out had started back in their predebut days, and somehow, it stuck.
Taeyang had no intention of ever changing it.
“Jongseob-ah,” he drawled, knocking at the door.
“Come in.”
Taeyang opened the door and peered inside. Jongseob was in the same position, sprawled on the bed with a book propped against the headboard. Taeyang subconsciously stretched his neck at the sight of the uncomfortable position.
“I’m going out.”
“Where?” Jongseob perked up, sitting up and closing his book.
“Not sure, I want to buy something to wear.” Taeyang shrugged. He held back a comment about how he didn’t even have to ask, and Jongseob put everything down, ready to tag along.
“You?” Jongseob raised his eyebrows.
“Yah, are you coming or not?” Maybe he should’ve teased him after all.
“Obviously,” Jongseob deadpanned.
While he waited for Jongseob, Taeyang mentally checked his budget. He planned to get a new jacket, preferably a leather one, but it all depended on the prices. Most of his money went to guitar equipment nowadays, but he had enough for one piece of clothing. As long as he didn’t get distracted or give up from sheer boredom, he counted on it being a success.
Jongseob would have to pay for their meals if they had dinner, though, and since he was an adult now, Taeyang felt no shame about letting him get the check. Jongseob had voluntarily paid for their last couple of group meals, so he figured he enjoyed treating them, since he normally had no problem complaining.
It was getting late, the sun just about to set, and some stores were already closed. For some reason, whenever he went shopping, half the stores he wanted to visit were closed, as if purely to spite him and waste his time. Last time it'd happened it was around one o'clock in the afternoon, so the time of day had nothing to do with it.
They walked around for a while, with Taeyang mainly following Jongseob’s lead so they wouldn’t end up visiting every music store in the vicinity. The first couple of stores were a flop, but they still spent a good amount of time showing each other the worst pieces of clothing they could find. Taeyang spent most of it trying—and failing—to convince Jongseob to try one on.
He was pouting by the door while Jongseob perused the accessories displayed next to the cashier. They’d only been to two places, and Taeyang already wanted to give up and go eat instead. He expected this to happen, but he was still determined to buy something, because no one knew when they would get another opportunity to breathe.
He startled slightly when Jongseob grabbed his hand and dropped something into his palm. Looking down, he found a small charm, a white cat with brown spots. He glanced up to see Jongseob holding a matching one with a black cat, lightly swinging it as he showed it off.
“Cute, right?” he said, clipping it onto his bag.
It was cute.
“Thank you.” Taeyang nodded, running his thumb over the present. They owned several matching trinkets already, but Taeyang appreciated any new addition. He didn’t bring a bag, so he slipped it safely into his jacket.
He was reminded of it whenever his hand brushed against the fabric.
The third shop was a decent-looking vintage store with various items besides clothing, but Taeyang still dragged Jongseob inside when he spotted guitar picks in the display case. The place was cramped, and his nose twitched at the stale air. He caught sight of a rack of decent-looking jackets and, out of habit, slapped Jongseob’s arm.
“I knew this was the right store.”
Jongseob glared at him, rubbing his arm, but Taeyang saw the corners of his mouth twitch up.
“Go pick a jacket before looking at the guitar stuff.” Jongseob physically spun him around before walking off to check a different clothing section.
Taeyang pursed his lips. A couple of weeks ago, Keeho had off-handedly mentioned how scarily similar Jongseob and he behaved, and ever since, Taeyang had started noticing it more and more. He didn’t know whether they picked up things from each other over the years or if they were simply alike, birds of a feather or whatever the saying was, but the fondness in his chest kept building, with nowhere to go.
He was staring intently at a brown leather jacket when Jongseob approached, clothes thrown over his arm.
“Did you pick anything?” Jongseob leaned over and assessed the jacket.
“Maybe.”
“Try it on, I have this.” Jongseob lifted his arm, showing off his selection.
Taeyang glanced at it but couldn’t really tell anything beyond the fact that they were T-shirts. He grabbed the jacket and headed with Jongseob toward the single changing room in the small shop, thankful there was barely anyone around.
He didn’t need to take off his clothes, so he studied himself in the mirror beside the door while Jongseob changed. The jacket fit perfectly and was within his budget, but he was still hesitating, wanting to be sure about his purchase.
Jongseob came out wearing a cropped, dark purple T-shirt with long mesh sleeves—too tight and revealing for Taeyang’s taste—but it suited him. He hadn’t seen him wear anything similar before.
Even though both Jongseob and Shota were adults now, whenever they wore more revealing outfits, it made Taeyang wince, especially since he preferred to show as little skin as possible. He still remembered Keeho’s scandalised expression when Shota told them he planned to perform his solo shirtless on the next tour. It was a good memory to replay on tough days. It never failed to make him laugh.
Jongseob stood next to him, spinning around and checking every angle in the mirror. Taeyang looked closely at the top and chuckled. It reminded him of an outfit he’d seen a girl group wear, and he knew the members would absolutely tease Jongseob about it too. He wondered if that was where Jongseob got his inspiration from.
Their eyes met in the mirror.
“What do you think?” Jongseob asked, as Taeyang pulled on the mesh sleeve.
“Looks nice. Are you sure you don’t belong in a girl group, though?” Taeyang asked, not missing the opportunity to be the first one to tease. He got the desired outcome of making Jongseob smile.
“I was thinking,” Jongseob paused, studying his reflection. “I want to let my hair grow out more, if they let me. Kind of like you.”
“They might cut, or at least trim, mine for the next comeback.” Taeyang scrunched his face in displeasure. Jongseob’s hair was already nearly as long, so Taeyang wouldn’t be surprised if it grew longer than his. The only thing that concerned him was whether it was strong and healthy enough to last.
“You like it long, though, right?” Jongseob asked.
“Yeah. I’d keep it long until military service, if I could.” Taeyang ran a hand through his hair, letting the strands naturally frame his face. The fans seemed to like the length too.
Jongseob opened and closed his mouth, clearly contemplating something. Taeyang bumped their shoulders together and tilted his head in question.
“It’s not too much, is it?” Jongseob asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The clothes and the hair…” Jongseob trailed off, running his hands over the fabric.
Taeyang frowned, staying quiet, unsure of what Jongseob meant. He looked him up and down, trying to imagine him with longer hair. It was easy. He must be missing something.
Jongseob huffed after seeing Taeyang's confused expression. "Keeho-hyung said I look like a girl during the recording.”
Taeyang’s brow furrowed further. He vaguely remembered something like that, but he hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time. They still called Taeyang a princess sometimes, after all. He didn’t pick up on Jongseob being bothered by it, but decided to ask just in case.
“Did it make you uncomfortable?” He scanned Jongseob’s face, but he didn’t look upset, more frustrated than anything.
“No, I don’t care about that.” Jongseob shook his head, confirming Taeyang's assumption. “But since I’ve been interested in trying a more feminine style…” he trailed off again.
“If you don’t care, why are you asking me if I do?” He couldn't remember the last time Jongseob had brought up anything about his appearance like this. Discussions about concepts and styling were part of their job, but this was different—more personal.
Taeyang had a feeling, but he didn’t want to put words in his mouth.
Jongseob shrugged, awkwardness overtaking his expression, but he pushed through, “I just wanted to hear your opinion.”
“No one cares,” Taeyang said, before realising how dismissive that sounded. “I mean, do and wear whatever you like. We’ll support you. We might tease you if it’s really hideous, though,” he couldn’t help but add.
“Taeyang,” Jongseob groaned, the corners of his mouth curving up.
“It suits you. You look pretty,” he said honestly, and chuckled at Jongseob’s bashful expression.
“Really, Jongseobie,” he insisted, brushing their hands together. He’d always been one of the biggest advocates for the ‘do whatever makes you feel good’ approach, but he also wanted to make sure Jongseob understood he wasn’t just saying it. He genuinely thought Jongseob could easily pull it off.
Taeyang thought back to Keeho’s remark about them being alike. It reminded him of something else.
“You know,” he started casually, “Intak asked me if it bothers me, too.”
Jongseob hummed in question.
“About the feminine charm. He asked if I minded you calling me a princess.” Taeyang didn’t know why he was even bringing it up, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Keeho’s comment.
“I don’t need to know what goes on in your bedroom.” Jongseob shuddered dramatically, breaking the moment.
“What the fuck!” Taeyang hissed. “That’s not how it happened.” Technically, they were lying on Taeyang’s bed when Intak had asked, but he would never admit that.
It seemed that Jongseob was done with the topic, so Taeyang decided not to dwell on it. Jongseob must be aware of their similarities anyway—there was no need to dig further.
“Whatever,” he pouted. “Get the top.”
“As long as you get the jacket.” Jongseob eyed him sceptically, undoubtedly knowing that Taeyang was hesitant to commit.
“Fine, but you are paying for dinner,” he concluded, turning around.
He spotted the cash register.
Behind him, he heard an offended, “What does that have to do with it?” but didn’t look back.
Jongseob would catch up to him.
He always did.
+ I.
As soon as the music stopped, Taeyang walked wordlessly toward his bag. He grabbed the nearly full bottle of water. No wonder his head was pounding. He drained half of it in one go and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.
Dance practice was abysmal. The company rejected his idea for a fan meeting. He couldn’t go live because their internet had been shit for the past week, and to top it all off, he had a headache now. Just one thing after another.
He heard a murmur.
Was someone talking to him?
He opened his eyes to a blurry Jiung standing in front of him. He must have spaced out. Jiung was telling him something, but he could barely make out the words, so he chose to reply with a “yeah”, guessing he was being asked if he felt okay, and turned to grab his things.
He needed to get out of here.
He left the building, determined to walk part of the way, hoping the fresh air and solitude would calm the chaos in his mind. There was no schedule until tomorrow evening, so he ignored the phone buzzing in his pocket.
The uncomfortable feeling under his skin was teetering on the edge of becoming too much, and it wasn’t going away as he’d hoped. He glared at the dark sky and called a taxi.
He held it together until he reached the dorm.
As he stepped inside, he called out, just to check if anyone had gotten there before him.
No one answered.
He let out a relieved breath. Tears were pressing at his eyes, begging to spill. He pressed his palms against them, hoping to hold them back.
There was no reason to cry.
But things just kept piling up.
He walked into his room, the slam of his door echoing through the empty dorm. He changed into a worn-out T-shirt and sweatpants on autopilot, then lay down. Sensing the inevitable, he hid under the blanket and cried quietly until exhaustion took over and he passed out.
He woke slowly, more tired than before, rubbing at his eyes. The aftermath of his breakdown had already set in, which meant no looking in mirrors until the schedule. Reaching blindly across the bedside table, he grabbed his phone.
The screen illuminated the bed and Taeyang barely suppressed a scream, his heart leaping into his throat.
Someone was lying beside him.
He turned the brightness down and took in the other person.
Jongseob was peacefully sleeping, curled up at the edge of the bed with sheets crumpled under him.
He set his phone down on the bed and switched on the lamp instead.
He spent the next couple of minutes pulling himself together while watching Jongseob. Taeyang knew he hadn’t been subtle about his downcast mood today, but it was never his intention to drag anyone else down with him. He immediately winced, aware he sounded like a hypocrite. The countless times he encouraged the others, especially Jongseob, to seek someone out weren’t lost on him. Still, he could handle one bad day by himself.
He sighed, relieved when his breath came out steady. He should probably wake Jongseob so he could rest in his own bed and not hang off Taeyang’s.
Even if having someone this close was comforting.
Repeating to himself that he could handle it, he lightly poked Jongseob’s leg with his toe. He didn't even stir. The poking grew more insistent until, finally, Jongseob groaned and opened his eyes. He quickly retreated before Jongseob could retaliate.
The room was silent while Jongseob properly woke up and stretched. Taeyang really wished it wasn’t so obvious that he’d cried alone in his room, because he had a feeling it would be difficult to make Jongseob leave.
As if hearing his thoughts, Jongseob shuffled closer to him, his face softly lit by the lamp and his long blond hair tucked behind his ear.
The quiet eye-contact slowly eased the remaining tension from Taeyang’s body.
Jongseob reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. The gesture was casual, yet so gentle. Taeyang fluttered his eyes shut, worried he might start crying again.
“Do you know how many people I had to fight to be the one staying here?” Jongseob mumbled.
“Why did they let you win?”
“Shut up.” Jongseob tugged at their joined hands. Taeyang tugged back.
“Jiung cooked you something,” he continued.
“What?”
“I don't know, he threw me out of the kitchen.”
That made Taeyang chuckle.
He caught the brief, lopsided grin on Jongseob’s face.
“You should go to sleep, Jongseob-ah,” he murmured, remembering his original plan to send Jongseob away. Even to his own ears, he sounded far from convincing.
Jongseob closed his eyes, not moving.
“Hey!”
Jongseob opened one eye and squinted at him.
“Can I stay?” he asked softly.
Taeyang was overcome with a surge of affection so intense his breath stuttered.
Can Jongseob stay?
“You can always stay,” Taeyang managed. He rarely expressed himself through words; it didn't come to him naturally, but he needed to do something with the fondness overflowing inside him.
Even though Jongseob tried to hide it, Taeyang could tell he was surprised by his answer too.
It was the middle of the night, and Jongseob was in his bed, stroking the back of his hand, telling him how they were all worried about him. The negative thoughts drained out of him, replaced by gratitude. Having people care about him so deeply was something he would never take for granted. He’d always been one of the more popular ones among his peers, but what he had with the group members was something irreplaceable.
Lucky.
“It's not just luck.” Jongseob interrupted his thoughts.
Taeyang blinked. He must be losing it if he’d said that out loud without realising.
“I hate how you keep doing this, even after all these years,” Jongseob sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“You always say that,” Jongseob huffed.
Taeyang wasn’t following. He simply stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
“You say you’re not expressive enough, that you aren’t a warm person,” he said, looking genuinely upset, his grip on Taeyang’s hand tightening.
Taeyang’s eyes widened.
What the hell? Where was this coming from?
He couldn’t see how this related to what they’d been talking about, but Jongseob spoke like he’d been holding it in for a while—like it had been bothering him.
So Taeyang waited, letting him get what he needed off his chest.
“It’s not true,” Jongseob added, fixing him with a pointed stare.
“I’m not as expressive as the others,” he replied with the first thing that came to mind.
It was difficult for him to openly share his feelings. Sometimes he was too shy and felt as if words lost all meaning if not used sparingly. Other times, he couldn’t handle the vulnerability that came with emotional conversations and instead focused on blunt statements while keeping his composure. Taeyang knew who he was and had no qualms about it.
Jongseob looked so done with him that it almost made Taeyang laugh, but he held it back, not wanting to seem like he was taking this lightly. It was clearly important to him, and Taeyang was a good listener.
“You don’t need to be like the others. You are you. Just because you don’t say things, that doesn’t mean you aren’t expressive. You show how much you care through your actions all the time. How on earth does that not make you expressive?”
“This has been bothering you,” Taeyang mumbled.
Jongseob glared at him for shifting the focus back to him.
“Yeah, it has, because I don’t think you get it.”
Taeyang unlinked their hands, feeling too exposed.
He could still hear Intak’s voice telling him he had a good heart. Taeyang hadn’t forgotten.
He knew that sometimes he struggled to reconcile how he saw himself with how the others described him, but to him, it came down to adaptability. It had never been hard for him to pick up on what the people he cared about needed and adjust, and if it was, he was straightforward enough to ask. It was ingrained in his core.
But what he considered expressive always felt like something else. Something that required more effort. There was a clear separation.
Jongseob seemed to disagree.
“What you did for me when we met… how you helped me fit in, took me out, encouraged me… and everything after that. That all meant so much more than you telling me that you love me. I didn’t need to hear it. You showed it. You love me. I knew it back then, and I know it now,” Jongseob whispered, reaching for his hand again.
Taeyang let him.
He stared at their hands.
Everything that Jongseob mentioned... Taeyang kept the memories close to his heart. There were so many moments over the years that would stay with him forever as a beautiful part of his youth. No matter where they all ended up in five or ten years, he hoped there would still be a place to meet, create new ones, and continue the tradition until they were all old, still enjoying life, living freely and doing the things they wanted.
There was no more energy left in him for a sentimental spiral.
He heard Jongseob swallow.
“I like the way you take care of me.”
Taeyang hummed, giving his hand a small squeeze. Jongseob must’ve noticed how overwhelmed he was, because he only let out a soft, wet chuckle and didn’t say anything else.
Taeyang closed his eyes, trying to steady his heartbeat.
To feel so understood.
What an indescribable feeling.