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2021
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Despite popular belief, San was somehow, miraculously, without reason, even more adorable when he was sleeping.
San had slimmed out over the last few years, body filling in all the places you'd expect a dancer's physique to excel.
His arms were still bulky, waist small and thighs toned, but his face was what changed the most, sharpening and maturing into this man that Hongjoong sometimes didn't recognize, features almost too appealing to look at.
But when he was sleeping, every muscle in his body relaxed, the hard lines and curves of him being replaced with pouty lips and chubby cheeks, pillowy eyes drawn down where they fluttered in his sleep.
Sometimes it was hard for Hongjoong to see him like this, so at peace and young at heart, reminding him so vividly of the San he saw at auditions for the very first time.
But mostly it was just nice, warmth stirring in his chest the longer he stared.
"I'm not getting up anytime soon, so either leave or prepare to get snuggled to death." San mumbled into his pillow, jarring Hongjoong back to the real world where he flinched at the foot of San's bed, just sort of hovering.
San didn't look at him, or make a move to kick him out, and so Hongjoong drew closer with only a pinch of hesitation, smiling a little when San felt his presence and stirred against his leg.
Usually Hongjoong didn't do things like this, accept such tempting offers.
San was the one who came to him, cuddled up in his bed because he was in need, but today was different and Hongjoong was determined to push the limits, allow his heart something nice before it'd be torn to shreds, and so he fumbled over San's body and settled into bed with him, burrowing himself beneath the sheets.
San was suddenly very much awake, and very much staring at Hongjoong as though he'd just jumped into bed naked.
"Who are you and what have you done with Hongjoong-hyung?"
Hongjoong flicked San's forehead, watching the younger dart away with a scowl.
"Shut up, you offered brat." He insisted, annoyed that San would even try to make him feel embarrassed about this.
It was fine.
This was normal for them.
"Yeah, but, you never actually..." San sighed, closing his mouth, and Hongjoong decided that it was in his best interest to curl up into the younger's chest before he could continue, hiding his face just in time to feel his cheeks darken.
So, not entirely normal, Hongjoong admitted that.
But it was worth it if only to hear the way San's breath froze in his throat, hand falling to Hongjoong's shoulder after a heavy pause.
He arched away slightly, scared to touch at first incase the contact had been a mistake, but when Hongjoong made no effort to move, San saw it as permission to press closer, chin resting at the top of his head.
Hongjoong wanted to touch more, let his hands wander, but he didn't.
That wasn't what today was about.
"I made you breakfast." He said after a long stretch of comfortable silence, both of them almost falling asleep somewhere in the middle.
San pulled away to look at Hongjoong, amazement doing wonders for his smile.
"You did?" He marveled, eager and curious as his eyes danced over Hongjoong's, wanting to hear more, and they were close, so very close and Hongjoong was more than a little distracted.
Hongjoong's laughter was shy, rushing out of him all at once.
"Well, I made breakfast for everyone but... that's only because Jongho is starting to get impolite when it comes to food."
San laughed softly, trying his best to be quiet and considerate to his roommates.
He looked at Hongjoong fondly, as though they were sharing a secret.
"You're scared of the little teddy bear?" He demanded, sounding judgmental, and Hongjoong squinted violently, both offended and thoroughly amused.
"Jesus, don't call him that." Hongjoong chuckled, low and breathy in that secret way of his, and San's eyes disappeared as he smiled, hand stretching out to find Hongjoong's chest.
They were facing each other now, completely open, painfully intimate, and Hongjoong watched as San's gaze fell to the column of his throat, following idly with the trail of his fingers that fumbled with the collar of Hongjoong's shirt, pinching the fabric lazily.
He seemed to be distracting himself, lip caught between his teeth, but then Hongjoong swallowed thickly, trying to clear the tension, and San's eyes were following the motion with a purpose now, dashing over the expanse of skin.
His eyes snapped back up, catching his own mistake, and then they were looking at each other, wondering silently.
San's forehead creased, a flash of concern appearing.
"Did you sleep, hyung?" He raised his hand, thumbing lightly at the darkness beneath Hongjoong's eyes, feeling the skin as though that alone would give him an answer.
Hongjoong frowned, not really wanting to answer, but not comfortable with lying either.
"Not really."
After talking with Wooyoung inside the wallowing heat of the van, sleep hadn't really been an option.
Hongjoong had made it back to his room just fine, still a few hours of darkness ahead of him, but the ceiling in his room had suddenly appeared too bland, too prideful as it stared back at Hongjoong's withering body, and Hongjoong had thought fuck this before getting out of bed and heading for the living room couch.
That was how the plan started, the brilliant idea to make today the last happy day on Earth, because tonight Hongjoong was going to confess, and come tomorrow things were going to change drastically.
He had thought of this sometime between four and six in the morning, drunk off exhaustion and bleary from crying, but it was an astounding game plan and Hongjoong intended on following it.
Hongjoong making breakfast wasn't part of the plan so much as it was a desperate rush to try and find an excuse to go and wake up San, stir him from sleep with a hand in his hair, completely self indulgent with his intentions.
Only Hongjoong had gotten distracted, and hadn't even been able to make it to the bed before he was caught in a trance.
Not his finest moment.
San looked like he either wanted to slap Hongjoong or scold him for the lack of care.
Probably both really, but his lip jutted out into a pout instead, eyes softening.
"Why didn't you come sleep with me? I've told you, if that ever happens you can just-"
"I know, but like you said, I never actually take you up on it. I don't need you to worry about me like that." Hongjoong interrupted thoughtlessly, instinctively becoming defensive the second San tried to push him to do something that would only hurt him more in the end.
But today was supposed to be different.
Hongjoong inched closer to San, propping his head up.
He shouldn't have to think so much today.
"I do anyway, you know." San said eventually, because he's good, great actually, and Hongjoong didn't deserve a single part of him.
"Yeah, I know."
Before Hongjoong could even think of a way to get San up and out of bed- breakfast was going to get cold- there was a reckless tug at the sheets and a weight settling over both of them.
"Make room, bitches. I wanna cuddle." Yeosang peered down at them, eyes pulled back into tiny slits as he adjusted to the light.
His smile was massive, splitting across his entire face, and he didn't bother waiting for a response before he was pushing his way in between San and Hongjoong with a deep groan of relief, burrowing into Hongjoong's side with a leg thrown over the elder's hip.
Hongjoong squirmed away from the touch, pulling a face that had San throwing his head back with laughter.
"Jesus, Sang. You fucking stink."
"I might stink, but I'm wonderful to squeeze."
Yunho's head poked up from beneath his covers, dark hair rising with static.
"Who are we squeezing?" He was barely able to get the question out before his eyes zeroed in on the tangled limbs sticking out from San's bed, mouth stretching into a heart shaped smile.
"Oh, shit- fuck yeah!"
Hongjoong wasn't able to register the speed at which Yunho jumped at them, nor could he really give an estimate of the height he reached, but he felt himself scream on instinct right along with San and Yeosang before Yunho landed, all of them clashing in a painful mix of jabbing elbows and freezing skin.
The bed creaked, the horrifying sound almost impossible to hear under the boiling curses and wheezing laughter, but Hongjoong must've been expecting it, because he heard the snap of wood with a clarity that made his eyes fly open in terror, hands reaching desperately to still all of the jostling bodies.
San's bed was only slightly bigger than a twin, which meant that even two people couldn't lay down without touching each other, which meant that four people on it was completely insane and less than a little dignified, which meant that this shit was going to break and Hongjoong was going to get caught right in the middle.
"We can't- the... the bed can't-"
San rushed to speak over Hongjoong, struggling to breathe with Yunho scrambling over his chest.
"How am I gonna explain to the company that I broke my bed? How shitty would that look?" He grimaced, letting out a high pitched squeal when Yeosang used his hair as leverage to pull himself upright.
Yeosang curled his knees towards his chest, trying to make more room for Yunho, but the taller was on the opposite end of the bed now, sprawled sideways across Hongjoong and San's legs like a sausage on a roller.
Yeosang shrugged.
"Just tell them I pounded your ass into the mattress. What can they do?"
Hongjoong froze in place from where he'd been harassing Yunho with his legs, mouth caught open in a stunned expression.
San made a repulsive sound, hands brushing back his hair with a sudden timidness that made Yeosang reach for him lovingly, smile present.
San slapped his hand away.
"Ew, Sangie, what the fuck."
Hongjoong stared at them, uncertain of how to feel about the discomfort twisting in his guts, the strange sense of relief and shame that were beginning to combine into one.
San's head turned, and their eyes met briefly.
Hongjoong looked away.
"Guys?" Mingi padded into the room with a blanket wrapped around his naked shoulders, eyes bleary.
He took one look at them, pouted, and began waddling forward towards the bed.
"You're having a cuddle party? Why didn't you tell me?"
Hongjoong managed to escape just seconds before Mingi joined their pile, ripping himself out of bed and away from the heat quickly enough to make him scream incoherently into the silence, the sound stirring laughter among the others.
They all whined at the loss of him, and Hongjoong was forced to duck around several outstretched arms just to get out of the room.
"No, hyung, come back!" Yunho called after him.
"Way to kill the mood." Yeosang grumbled, flipping Mingi off before falling back down on the mattress, sending his body bouncing as his bangs fell across his eyes.
Mingi glared at him, chin tucked into his chest.
"Whatever. Hongjoong-hyung isn't that fun to cuddle anyway. He's bony and wiggles around too much."
"He's always freezing too." Yunho added, oblivious, but San's glare against the side of his face was sharp, almost as brutal as the foot he sent into the older boy's ribs.
"Leave him alone. Jesus." San grumbled, voice tense, and then he was shoving Yunho off the bed entirely and getting to his feet to follow Hongjoong out of the room.
Hongjoong had been nearby, listening, and when San came out to find him they nearly collided, shoulders bumping in the tiny hallway.
"Don't listen to them." He told Hongjoong, appearing disheveled, and Hongjoong found it endearing that San thought he'd be upset about something like that, always prepared to comfort the people around him.
"Are you hungry?" Hongjoong asked, already turning to start walking towards the kitchen expectantly.
San smiled after him, lowering his head shyly as he reached to lean on Hongjoong's shoulder.
"Starving." He said, bouncing excitedly, and Hongjoong had expected such an answer from him.
What he hadn't expected, was for San to actually be starving.
Hongjoong set a bowl of pork stew down in front of him, ecstatic over the excitement it unleashed, and turned just for a second to get San something to drink.
When he returned to the table, the younger was devouring every last bite with his head down and his shoulders hunched forward, spoon hardly having a moment to breathe before it was diving back into San's mouth.
He moaned brokenly and slammed a fist onto the table, practically ripping Hongjoong straight out of his skin.
"Holy shit, hyung," He laughed. "This is incredible." San went for yet another spoonful, making sure to get a chunk of pork with a mix of vegetables, lips coming back tinted with the dark red broth.
Hongjoong couldn't really explain how happy it made him to see San like that.
Stuffing his face without a care, encouraging Hongjoong to give him seconds, thirds even, because Hongjoong knew that San was just as amused at the elder's delight as he was impressed with the food, and they were simply there to please one another.
Laugh quietly in the silence and bask in the morning light that filtered in through the blinds in the living room, voices quiet and hushed only for each other.
Eventually, their peace was disturbed and the house awoke the way it always did, messy and sudden and so very loud, but Hongjoong just smiled at San as Seonghwa arrived, the eldest breaking their moment to wrap his arms around San's shoulders from behind.
It was a smile that spoke volumes.
A smile that said, it's okay, there's more.
There will always be more.
And it turned out there was, because Hongjoong had prepared for this day in the span of a few hours and he intended on keeping them on schedule.
They didn't stay to finish breakfast with the others.
Mingi pouted and Seonghwa begged but Wooyoung just smiled at them, shy and secretive with an ease Hongjoong hadn't seen in a long time.
He waved them off, thumping Yeosang in the head when he started to complain, and Hongjoong would never admit it but he hovered by the door a little just to look at him, revel in the way Wooyoung's eyes softened when San grabbed Hongjoong's hand and dragged him away.
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Now, in hindsight, taking San to the Han River had seemed like a great idea.
It was a place all the members loved to visit on the rare occasion that they had an afternoon to themselves, oftentimes leaving in pairs to go on 'dates' as Yunho liked to call them.
But Hongjoong had also thought of this sometime between four and six in the morning when his mind was at its worst and his body was running on nothing but shitty coffee, and as they walked down the street side by side to the bus stop just around the corner, it occured to Hongjoong that he had most definitely forgotten to consider some factors.
Like how the task of cramming themselves into a bus filled to the back with strangers was not the best course of action, and it was freezing outside and Hongjoong hadn't grabbed a big enough coat to stop his teeth from chattering uncontrollably, and San might not even be excited to go to a place they visit so often and what if Hongjoong fucked this up just like-
"Take my jacket, hyung." San said, face hovering in front of him, and Hongjoong would have said no if his heart was in it, but his face was already pink and his lips were chapped, and San was throwing his coat around Hongjoong's shoulders before he could argue.
"You get cold so easily. Don't want you getting sick."
Hongjoong grabbed at the jacket, fingers clamped tight.
"I didn't think about the crowd. I'm sorry." He muttered, lowering his head amongst the sea of strangers.
He wished he'd remembered to bring a mask or a pair of sunglasses, anything to make him stand out less, but apparently this wasn't Hongjoong's day after all.
San smiled at him, soft and slow like he was too distracted to move faster.
"It's fine, hyung. I'm just happy to spend time with you." He leaned towards Hongjoong, arm raised above his head where he was gripping the railing for balance.
There was a glint in his eye that hadn't been there during breakfast, an inexplicable rush of amusement making his nose crinkle, cheeks flushed as his lips drew back in an adoring grin, and Hongjoong just stared back at him, unable to move.
"Cheesy shit." He said, rolling his eyes, and San's laughter sounded different somehow, more real and lighter than it ever had.
Hongjoong didn't take it for granted that time.
He tried to memorize the details of San's face, the happiness that played across his features repeatedly, timeless and natural everytime Hongjoong grumbled beneath his breath or glared towards the reckless driver at the front of the bus.
He wanted to take it all in, cherish it, remember it, because god he was going to miss this.
Being so open and trusting with each other, being able to make jokes and poke fun and smile at each other without worrying about whether Hongjoong's heart was spiraling in his chest.
The ride was torturous and slow, sweat gathering along Hongjoong's brow as the inside of the bus became tighter with every stop.
At one point, San's hand moved to rest against Hongjoong's hip, searching for balance as a few new passengers pushed in behind him, and Hongjoong felt his breath get stolen from his lungs.
Felt his face go red and his hands clamp up, wanting a million things that he could never have.
San moved his hand once the bus started off again, and Hongjoong didn't look to see whether he was staring or not.
Halfway through the twenty minute bus ride, San gasped at something through the window, jolting Hongjoong from where he'd been staring a hole into the ground.
He curled a hand into the elder's shoulder and smiled.
"Are we on our way to the river?" He asked excitedly, leaning so far into Hongjoong's space to see out the window that their chests brushed, Hongjoong's lips parting as he moved his face away.
It didn't do much to ease the rapid patter in his chest.
Hongjoong nodded, smiling quietly to himself, and then San was turning his head to look at him and they were close.
Really fucking close and San was smirking, eyes a warm brown where they were catching light from the sun, and Hongjoong pulled away just like he always did, just like he always had to, because there was a danger in every single fiber that was Choi San and he wanted nothing to do with any of it.
Hongjoong looked away but San didn't.
Not for a while.
He could still feel San's gaze wearing into the side of his face by the time they stepped out into the sunlight at one of the thirty bridges that spanned over the river.
He tried to ignore it, tried to rationalize it, but San's gaze was like melted gold, running over every feature of Hongjoong's face like he was the one trying to memorize everything.
The line of his jaw, the grumpiness in his forehead, the paled skin from the cold that made him blend into the air even when his hair was an ocean blue, and it was those kinds of looks that used to give Hongjoong hope.
The kind of longful gazes that made Hongjoong feel less shitty about the whole thing.
But now they just made him angry, made him sick, because it had been three years of nothing but agony and San wasn't supposed to still be doing that.
Looking at Hongjoong like his feelings were at all valid.
"Would you stop staring at me?" Hongjoong turned to glare at him, eyes dark and jaw clenched.
His hands were shaky where they were holding a map out in front of him.
San's jacket was zipped up to his throat.
San's eyes flickered up to meet Hongjoong's, looking embarrassed but not surprised as he laughed.
"Right, sorry."
And then they were carrying on as if nothing had happened, shoulders brushing naturally as they started down the pathway on the side of the bridge.
They talked about work for a while, the upcoming album that had Hongjoong slaving away in the studio most days, but eventually they drifted into the kind of meaningless stories and whispered memories that had Hongjoong howling into the sky as San pounded at his back, shushing him insistently.
San told him about finding porn on Jongho's phone, and in return Hongjoong shared the equally embarrassing story of when he'd walked in on Yunho with a girl at the dorm only two weeks after meeting him.
San giggled at the image and didn't hesitate to throw Mingi under the bus for the exact same thing, the two of them laughing until Hongjoong couldn't breathe and San couldn't see.
They clutched at the bridge's railing and managed to get across without puncturing a lung, stomachs sore but miraculously hungry by the time they found themselves ducking into an open restaurant with steam billowing out the front.
San paid, Hongjoong complained, and they carried their servings of fried chicken, rice, and beer outside to sit underneath a tree overlooking one of the city's infamous parks.
There were children running around them left and right, some coming by with their parents once they recognized Hongjoong and San, wanting a picture, and Hongjoong couldn't shake the feeling that this was how things were supposed to be.
He was supposed to take San out on dinner dates and pick leaves out of his hair and steal his food when he wouldn't notice; laugh in his face when he did.
He was supposed to finish off his beer with a wet gasp that made the other smile, feel his heart swell as he watched San's eyes follow a little girl splashing in the fountain, throw their trash away without asking and melt when San laid back to rest against his thigh with a thank you burning soft and grateful on his lips.
San looked up at him, cheek pillowed against his leg, and Hongjoong realized that San was supposed to be his.
He just had to be.
But he wasn't.
They walked around for a little while longer, Hongjoong quieter than before, more aware of what was to come now that his stomach was full and San's presence was beginning to sting.
They watched a pair of birds chase each other down the heart of Seoul and grimaced at the immeasurable amount of gum stuck onto the railings leading into the subway stations.
San pointed out signs they'd both run across hundreds of times before over the last few years, and Hongjoong acknowledged them as if he was a foreigner seeing it all for the first time, eyes wide with amazement.
"Your behavior is becoming increasingly worrying as the day goes on. Are you sure you're okay?" San asked suddenly, voice echoing now that they were going through a graffiti covered tunnel.
Hongjoong looked over at him, eyebrow raised even when he knew what San was referring to; the sudden breakfast, the afternoon adventure, the food and the money and the desperation.
It was a lot, and it had come out of nowhere.
Hongjoong understood that.
"Am I not allowed to do something nice for you?" He said, and it was an honest question, an honest insecurity of his, because Hongjoong didn't do nice things often and a lot of the time it was for this exact reason.
People made a big deal about it when he did.
It made him feel disingenuous, uncomfortable, like a freak who was sharp and cold and nothing else.
San's eyes widened.
"That's not... no, of course you can. I just feel like maybe I'm the only one enjoying it." He admitted, looked guilty, and Hongjoong wanted to laugh, because San couldn't have been farther from the truth this time.
This wasn't even about San.
This wasn't for him, it was for Hongjoong.
In the most selfish, narcissistic, assholish way possible.
"If you want me to enjoy myself then start being better company." Hongjoong quipped, releasing a breath when they finally broke through the tunnel, and San's laughter rang sharp in his ears.
He linked their arms together, body warm where they walked shoulder to shoulder.
"I'm great company, hyung."
Hongjoong tried to make it last as long as he could.
The conversation, the sightseeing, the simple joy of being with one another.
But eventually Hongjoong could see the day start to catch up to San, legs wound tight from all the walking, and the elder was forced to accept that whatever this was, all of it, was over.
Hongjoong could see the confusion on San's face when he led them back to his own studio rather than the dorm.
He ignored it though, unlocked the room and pushed inside with a grogginess that had snuck up on him.
"Gross! I thought you said we weren't gonna work today."
Hongjoong fell into his chair, head down and eyes distant.
"I just need to show you something."
San made an interested noise, reaching back behind the couch to pull his chair out.
He positioned himself right beside Hongjoong, arms touching.
He leaned over the desk, resting his chin on his palm.
His eyes fluttered as he watched Hongjoong click around the computer screen.
"Is this an exclusive look? Only for me? Aw, hyung, you shouldn't have."
"I finished your song. I had Wooyoung record the demo, sing the lyrics." He pulled the audio up and pushed himself across the room to fetch a pair of headphones, ignoring the eyes that followed him.
Hongjoong grabbed the closest set, quickly plugged the cord in, and handed them over.
"Here, put these on."
San held the headphones gently, turning them around just to look closely.
His entire body softened with amazement.
"You're actually giving the song to me?" He asked, a barely there whisper that made Hongjoong close his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed.
His heart clenched.
"It's not meant for anyone else."
"Hey." San said, soft and worried.
His feet appeared in front of Hongjoong's line of vision, chair rolling along the ground.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Hongjoong wasn't going to be able to survive this, to make it out without losing both his heart and his dignity in the process, and there was a significant part of him that wanted to quit now, cut his losses, keep his mouth shut and continue to suffer alone.
But there was another part of him- the stupid part, the reckless part, the part responsible for every bone he's ever broken and every brave things he's ever done; the part of him that made him leave Anyang for Seoul and pursue music and introduce himself to a whole new world- there was another part of him that said live loud, make a mess, fuck it up, get hurt, and grow, and there was a choice to be made and Hongjoong was making it.
He's making it.
He's made it.
It's done.
San pulled off the headphones with one hand, the other remaining clenched by his side, and Hongjoong thought this is it.
This was how he got his heart broken, by a sunshine boy and an unrequited love that couldn't even be fixed with a song.
San rubbed at his face, his eyes, fingers drained of color as they pulled at his hair.
He wouldn't look at Hongjoong, wouldn't make a sound, and Hongjoong had expected this, prepared for it, so why did it still hurt so fucking bad?
His eyes stung, his throat burned, but his heart was the worst of it, drowning with a pain he couldn't explain, wrenching with absolute torment.
Hongjoong had planned all the things he was going to say to him.
All of the apologies he wanted to give, but now that it was happening he couldn't remember a single word of any of it, and it was just another regret that was tossed in with the others, mixing at the base of his stomach where he was beginning to feel nauseous.
The track stopped spinning, looped, and began playing through the headphones again, Wooyoung's breathy tone spilling out in the air between them, and Hongjoong felt his entire body constrict with dread, hands frantic as he moved to stop the song.
San caught him before he could do it though, pinkies linking together just as they had all those years ago when San was frightened and Hongjoong was clueless.
The song continued, bleeding in around them.
All I have left is
The promises I made with you
And the happy memories I had with you
They make me move
They make me breathe
It took Hongjoong a moment to realize San was humming along.
Took an even longer moment to recognize the tears in his voice, eyes glowing bright and watery against the computer screen.
I want to walk with you for a long time
I want to share more with you
Only wanna be with you
I want to walk with you
I want to be with you
Stay with me always
San was facing him now, lips pulled apart like he was gasping for air, and Hongjoong was reaching for his other hand blindly, squeezing his palms.
Remember, the moment, these feelings
Remember this space and our promise
Remember the tracks
Remember the tremor
Remember, remember
"You know." San sniffled, eyes red and lips wobbly.
"You must know."
And Hongjoong thought that maybe he did.
Maybe he had all along, and that's why he was here, peeling himself open to a boy who had a heart the size of an ocean, a smile so precious it made Hongjoong want to adore and protect it as if it was a physical thing he could hold.
"...I know."