Jaywon AO3 stories :)

Our honeyed threads; lovecubed

This is one of my personal favorites. I know y'all r gonna like this one. Also long asl

our honeyed threads
lovecubed

Summary:

"I've missed you."

These are the first words Yang Jungwon says to the boy in front of him, someone he most definitely does not know.

What the hell. Why did he say that? What the hell, what the hell what the—

The boy blinks his confusion away before he quirks his mouth up in a half smile, his eyes shining with mirth.

"I don't know you," he says with certainty. "But I've missed you too, I guess."

(or: Jungwon is one of the few people who can remember their past lives, and Jongseong has been in too many of his. That doesn't make saying I love you any easier, though. If anything, it only makes it harder.)
Authors Notes:

"jungwon's an old soul trapped in a young body" but like, actually

the reincarnation premise was definitely inspired by the minjoon fic lost in you by jonghyunslisterine so give it a read if you haven't !!

thank you to the loml faith for beta reading this <3<3<3

here is my fic playlist

i hope you enjoy <3
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
—————————————————————————————
Jungwon's earliest memory is from when he was three or four years old.

He knows it's from this life because, even through the haze, he can distinctly make out his parents' unwrinkled faces and his older sister's red dress. They're on a beach on Jeju Island, and the sun was beginning to drown and his parents were calling his name, urging We have to go home now, Jungwon, we have to go home.

But Jungwon remained fixed on the sand, his chubby fingers pressing down against the soggy sides of his sandcastle, urging the structure to last forever. The tide was coming in, and he was worried, so worried.

His mother didn't care how worried he was. She pulls him up anyway, firmly grabbing his sea-kissed hands to tug him towards the car.

He puts all his focus onto the walk back, his newly-purchased sandals doing little to protect him from stumbling over the sharp seashells scattered across the beach. So, it's only once the sun has died and his father's buckling his sister into the car that Jungwon gets a chance to look back, tiptoeing to gaze over the tall blades of grass.

Jungwon looks for his sandcastle, and it's then he learns that some fates are better left unknown.

His sandcastle was already half-crumbled and broken. It wasn't even the ocean that ate it—the wind had gotten to it first.

Like it never even had a chance of lasting.

Jungwon doesn't believe in baseless inevitabilities. Outcomes are worked for and, even then, no outcomes are guaranteed. Fleeting strokes of luck or blindsiding tragedies can change everything, so nothing is inevitable.

Jongseong is the only exception.

And, in this life, Jungwon's fourteen when he finds Jongseong again.

It's his first time in the BigHit building, and his legs feel weak as he stumbles through the large, unfamiliar hallways. He's late, he's late, and the ceilings are so far away it makes him dizzy, but he refuses to let his nerves show in the shake of his still-growing limbs. So, once Jungwon thinks he's found the right practice room, he straightens his back and takes a deep breath in.

As Jungwon walks towards the door, he trips over his own feet, just barely saving himself from faceplanting embarrassingly onto the floor. Jungwon's never been particularly clumsy, so he takes an affronted glance behind him in confusion.

Strange. There's nothing there.

Whatever. He's late, the transfer from SM to BigHit having taken longer than he thinks it should've and, with every second he isn't in that practice room, his youth—his marketability—slips from in between his fingers. So, Jungwon rubs his thumb over the small lucky bag in his pocket and pushes the door open.

The stark white fluorescent lights blind him as he apologetically nods to the wary dance instructor. He turns to face the sea of twenty other teenage boys, all in the midst of conversation before the lesson starts, and—

Jungwon's greeted with honeyed skin and a shark-like grin, this beautiful boy's head thrown back in beautiful laughter. Jungwon stays rooted in place, staring wide-eyed as something that's long grown dormant in his body crawls into his heart and digs a hole through his lungs and sinks into his stomach, and even though it leaves him wanting to choke—

It feels like Jungwon's properly breathing for the first time.

The boy notices Jungwon's stare and offers him a crooked smile accompanied by a wave of his hand, and Jungwon hesitantly offers a small wave back. His core burns with pain when their eyes meet, and his hand flattens against his chest to soothe a wound that doesn't exist. The dance instructor impatiently coughs, and Jungwon squeaks before scurrying to an empty corner in the room, one that's as far away as possible from this honeyed boy.

Jungwon knows many ghosts.

Adults were so entertained by him when he was younger, listening intently as he talked about fantastical uncles he doesn't have and mystical cities that didn't exist. A natural storyteller, they nodded approvingly to Jungwon's parents. His imagination is something to treasure.

But, sometimes Jungwon will blink and suddenly he's standing in ancient Nineveh. He's surrounded by lush foliage and ripe orchards, basking in the warm summer air as he marvels at the water canals organized throughout the citadel. The shadow of an uncle with sun-kissed skin and a beard full of secrets provides him cool shade, and Jungwon's holding a piece of fresh baklava his uncle stole for him because he's young and he loves sweets.

Then, he'll blink again and find himself in the present, sitting in the air-conditioned bedroom he shares with his sister in his family's Seoul condo.

Dreams are supposed to fade, and dreams aren't real.

Jungwon's dreams may be faded, chipped, and blurry, fleeting moments and impressions of lives he can't quite remember, but they're real—god, they were real once. Just like how the Hanging Gardens of Babylon were real once, too—they were just located in Nineveh instead.

Jungwon knows more than he should, he remembers more than he should, and as he grew older, the less keen adults were to hear his stories.

His memories.

No one else seems to remember the way he does.

("Noona," he whispers out one evening when he's ten and still hopeful that someone else can understand him.

A muffled groan. "Yeah?"

"Do you ever—" Jungwon tugs his covers over his chin. "When you're standing, sometimes, do you ever blink and suddenly you're somewhere else?"

"What does that even mean?"

"Like," he licks his lips. Despite the chapstick he'd applied, they're dry. "Like you have memories that aren't your own."

His sister groans before violently throwing a pillow at him. She's twelve, and she has none of the patience their parents tried to instill into them. "Go to sleep!")

Jungwon's hyper aware enough of how people perceive him that he quickly learns that he should stop talking about his dreams.

His past lives.

He gets so good at being quiet, in fact, that his parents eventually get worried, his silence too loud for them to handle. They enroll him into taekwondo lessons to get him to socialize more and it works, in some ways. But he never escapes his ghosts.

Jungwon thinks it's unfair that only he remembers. Once he's in middle school, he spends his free time parsing through history textbooks. He scans through the blocks of text to find any mention of the sickly cousin he had during the Aksumite Empire, or of the pet cat that escaped through his window at the start of industrialization. He flits through archives of old twentieth century photographs, staring at blurry faces thinking I might have known you, once.

His ghosts follow him everywhere he goes, and they leave him in a constant state of yearning. A constant state of missing. On the bad days, his bones are carved hollow and his ribs knock against each other as his lungs bruise themselves longing to cry out, Where did everyone go? Why am I the only one that stayed? I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Jungwon doesn't even remember any of his ghosts' names—that might be what hurts the most. When he went through his brief pre-teen emo phase, blasting songs that had no chance of truly understanding him, he would've been inclined to call himself broken, as dramatic as that sounds.

Jungwon knows better now. You can't call yourself broken when you were never even whole in the first place.

Jungwon's back is against the mirror as he sits on the floor, bone-tired and sweat-soaked in the middle of the night. His grandmother had chastised him over the phone for staying so late, but it's his first day and he's already behind. There's only a few other trainees left with him, the new choreography unforgiving and the training rooms open overnight, all of them working hard under the threat of monthly evaluations hanging over their heads.

The honey boy's still here, too. Jungwon doesn't even get a chance to avoid him, because he's the one who approaches Jungwon first.

He slumps down next to Jungwon, patting down the back of his neck with a towel. It'd be rude of Jungwon to get up now, no matter how much he wants to, so he stays put. For a moment, the boy doesn't speak, still out of breath from dancing, so Jungwon does something probably as equally rude as running away—he stares.

He's definitely older than Jungwon, if not just by his height then by the way he carries himself. He's got sleepy eyes, though Jungwon's not sure if they're a byproduct of their current environment or just how he looks. But when the boy turns to look at him, the sharpness of his gaze forces that misplaced yearning to burn across Jungwon's chest again, to climb up his throat and bubble on his tongue. Jungwon can now see the few acne scars that dot the boy's forehead and the delicate freckles splashed over the tops of his cheeks. He's got small lips that form a natural pout, and Jungwon's startled out of his stupor when they open to start forming words.

"Hey," the boy greets. "Your name's Jungwon, right? My name's—"

"I've missed you."

These are the first words Yang Jungwon says to the honey boy, someone he most definitely does not know.

What the hell. Why did he say that? What the hell, what the hell what the—

The boy blinks his confusion away before he quirks his mouth up in a half smile, his eyes shining with mirth.

"I don't know you," he says with certainty. "But I've missed you too, I guess."

Jungwon kind of wants to die right now, to melt into the floor from embarrassment, but something about the boy's response felt so... right. Like it was exactly the answer Jungwon was looking for.

The boy does several more things right. He tries to get Jungwon to go home, worried because it was so late, and Jungwon tells him that he can't, the trains no longer running because it was so late. He tells Jungwon to call his parents, but Jungwon refuses because that would disturb his parents' sleep. He offers Jungwon money to hail a taxi, and Jungwon refuses because he can't just borrow a stranger's money.

"Why not?"

"I'm not taking your money."

"You're not taking it, I'm willingly lending it."

"Still. No, but thank you." Jungwon rubs his arms, the air conditioning suddenly veering on freezing. "There's a move I haven't nailed down yet, anyway. I need the practice."

The boy purses his lips, deep in thought. "Is it the weird half-time move? With the turn?"

Jungwon nods, "Yeah."

"Okay," he claps his hands. "How about this—since I've had more time with it, I can help you figure out the move, but only on the condition that you take the taxi home after and get some sleep."

You are very kind, Jungwon thinks. And persistent. And stubborn. But his mind keeps rounding back to the word kind so, this time, he accepts.

An hour later, the boy hands him manwon while Jungwon packs his bag, and he waves him off when Jungwon profusely promises to pay him back. Jungwon's just pushed open the door when the boy calls out from behind him.

"Wait!"

Jungwon turns, and his breath hitches.

A humid breeze brushes Jungwon's skin and the practice room transforms into the Hanging Gardens, bustling city life circling around him. Jungwon's standing in Nineveh again, and—

The boy's standing in front of him, donned in an embroidered tunic and wearing sandals torn with love. His face is not the same, his body entirely different, but somewhere deep inside his chest, with every ounce of certainty embedded in his soul, Jungwon knows that it's the same person.

Oh.

I have known you before, Jungwon thinks.

The boy starts walking closer, and it breaks the memory. Jungwon's back in the practice room, back in the present. The boy looks at him curiously, and his words finally filter into Jungwon's ears.

"You do look kind of familiar when I think about it. I heard you transferred from SM? I trained there briefly—did we ever meet there?"

Jungwon turns away from the boy like the sight of him burns.

"No," he chokes out. "We've never met before today."

Jungwon speedwalks out the door before bolting out of the building, his mouth bitter with the taste of lies, and it's only when he's unlocking his front door that he realizes he never got the boy's name.

The living ghost's name is Jongseong. Park Jongseong.

Jongseong tells him as much the next time Jungwon sees him. Jungwon dutifully repays him the manwon, and then he silently walks to a spot at the front of the practice room for the lesson.

And despite the way the back of his neck burns, Jungwon does not look back.

That doesn't stop Jongseong from looking forward, though. "I've missed you," he greets, pushing his way up to the front next to Jungwon.

Jungwon stares at him, unsure of what to say.

Jongseong laughs. "Come on, you're supposed to say it back." Then he looks sheepish. "I mean, only if you want—"

"I've missed you too."

Jongseong grins, and Jungwon hesitantly grins back.

Jongseong and Jungwon don't actually talk much over the next year, each in their own circles. But every time they pass each other in the hallways, Jongseong will always mouth to Jungwon I've missed you as a greeting, an inside joke almost, and Jungwon will always mouth back I've missed you too.

It becomes their own little thing. Jungwon and Jongseong have their own little thing now.

It's dangerous, two people having their own special little things between each other.

Jungwon knows this when he walks in on Jongseong laughing out an easy There's so much I like about you, hyung to Lee Heeseung under those flickering fluorescent lights, his lips colored a ruby red and his bleeding heart held out on his eager palms.

It's a cruel fate, how this is the moment Jungwon falls in love.

Jungwon's fifteen and everything he knows is contained within these four practice room walls but, to him, love has always seemed complicated. Ugly. Something terrifying and large and painful. But Jungwon watches Jongseong fall in love, and Jungwon falls in love with the way Jongseong makes love out to be something so easy. As simple honesty in its purest form.

Jungwon might only be fifteen, but he's still right, though. There's something terrifying and large and painful growing inside his chest, something so ugly as he catches glimpses of Jongseong sneakily kissing Heeseung in dark corners only meant for them. As he stands in the empty spaces they leave behind when they fly out to foreign countries and stay in seven-star hotels together.

So Jungwon takes a step back from them in the practice room. He puts his head forward into training, and life becomes the endless stream of monthly evaluations. Then they get transferred from BigHit to BELIFT. Plenty of trainees don't make the cut, and plenty of others don't stay.

Jungwon stays. And Jongseong stays.

And Jongseong-and-Heeseung stay.

Jungwon goes on convenience store runs if he knows Jongseong isn't there, and he shakes his head when Jongseong invites him for group outings. Jungwon tries to tell himself that how he's treating Jongseong isn't special. He tells himself that he's hard to get close to, something he'd proved to himself when it took him six months to get close to another trainee. But Jungwon's always been a terrible liar, especially to himself.

So he goes back to his roots. For him, the best way to lie is to not say anything at all.

I-LAND removes all traces of love from Jungwon's mind. The passion is undeniable, but love? This place has no room for love.

But there are always exceptions to absolute statements.

Unexpectedly, Jungwon and Heeseung grow close here. Even more unexpectedly, or perhaps completely expected, there is no Heeseung-and-Jongseong anymore. Jungwon notes the way Jongseong—Jay, now—looks at Heeseung, waiting for the other to look back the way he always does. Except, Heeseung doesn't look back.

Heeseung looks ahead, and Jungwon wonders if he's leaving Jongseong behind.

Meanwhile, Jungwon looks at Jongseong and—it's not the same, but—Jongseong looks back.

Something terrible or wonderful or terrible-and-wonderful must have set the universe off-course for this to happen, for Jongseong to still get pulled into Jungwon's gravity despite the millions of light years of distance Jungwon's put in between them.

Jungwon has nowhere to run now, and he doesn't want to anymore, not when it seems like Jongseong might actually be here to stay.

So when Jongseong gets sent to the Ground and he's gripping the back of Jungwon's neck, murmuring I'll come back next week so tenderly into his ear, Jungwon pulls back to look Jongseong in the eyes.

"You will." It's a command. "You will come back."

Because Jongseong is inevitable. Jungwon knows this, now.

And Jungwon was right.

His feet are heavy as he walks to the other four—his other four band members—the sound of the loud background music and the announcer's voice drowning out his other senses.

He can vaguely feel the arms that wrap around him, the hands on his shoulders and the pats on his back. He makes out variations of You did it, you did well. We're going to debut, we made it together. Jungwon, we made it.

And then—

Jungwon sees it more than he hears it, the utter relief on Jongseong's face, comfort personified as he pulls back and mouths:

I've missed you.

They didn't know each other for fourteen years, and they were barely friends in the last two, but in those thirty minutes they were separated, Jongseong missed him.

Jungwon wonders if they'll continue missing each other like this, even when they'll be constantly together for years to come. A selfish part of him hopes so because, for once, someone misses him.

A ghost that finally stayed.

I've missed you too, Jungwon mouths back. I've missed you too.

They travel to Jeju Island to shoot their first ever album cover, though they get corralled for some team-bonding activities first. They're only at their first stop, but even just standing on the beach makes Jungwon feel sick. The waves are low, but a part of him thinks they could knock him down. He digs his heels into the sand.

Jungwon's just finished taking a photo of Jake when Jongseong calls him over. "I want to show you something!"

Jongseong leads them down the beach, a hand covering Jungwon's eyes because I want it to be a surprise. Along the way, Jungwon trips over nothing, but Jongseong's there to catch him.

"Clumsy," Jongseong teases.

"Only around you," Jungwon responds without thinking.

Jongseong barks out a laugh. "Careful there. Don't wanna make it sound like you've fallen for me."

Too late. "Hyung." Jungwon levels out his voice to make sure it reveals nothing.

"What, bad pun?"

"Terrible pun."

"You like them," Jongseong slips their hands together. Jungwon doesn't deny it, focusing instead on how his nauseousness has seemingly dissipated. "For me to keep a hold of you," Jongseong answers a question unasked. "So you don't fall."

Jungwon squeezes his hand. "So I don't fall."

"Not when you're with me," Jongseong promises.

Jongseong finally uncovers Jungwon's eyes and he exclaims, "Look at what I made!"

Jungwon looks down, and bile floods his mouth.

Jongseong's built a crude looking sandcastle with his hands, finger marks pressed in all the wrong places, domes left askew, and towers threatening to fall.

Jungwon wants to run.

He doesn't. Instead, he says, "That's so ugly, hyung."

"What!" Jongseong shouts incredulously. He lets go of his hand to crouch down, covering the castle's nonexistent ears. "Just because you're right doesn't mean you have to say it." He sniffs, "Go get me some seashells as an apology."

Jungwon's hand twitches from the loss, and he feels sicker than ever, but he listens. When he gets back, Jongseong instructs him to decorate the sandcastle with the shells.

"You want me to do it?"

Jongseong nods. "They're the finishing touches."

So Jungwon sticks the shells onto the walls as windows and doors while Jongseong refortifies the sides, as if urging the structure to last forever, and they get up to take a final look at it when they're done.

"It's perfect," Jongseong grins.

It's so ugly. Jungwon takes a photo of it immediately. "It's perfect," he agrees.

"Jay-ah! Jungwon-ah!" Sunghoon calls out for them. "Come back to us! They're getting ready to wrap up."

So they take some group pictures together before their manager guides them back to the car, the rest of the staff still packing up the cameras and supplies.

Jungwon knows not to look back, but Jongseong doesn't.

"Oh," Jongseong laments. "Our sandcastle's already fallen."

Our sandcastle.

Jungwon only walks faster, and Jongseong jogs to catch up. Jungwon slips their hands together and holds on tight.

In this dream, Jungwon is drowning.

Bullies had pushed him off his wooden sampan, rowing away and abandoning him when the storm started. He gasps desperately for air but chokes on sea water instead as heavy raindrops hit his flailing limbs. His parents never taught him to swim in this life, and Jungwon still curses them for it even nearly two thousand years later.

His vision is just beginning to blur when strong arms surround him, a warm voice murmuring into his ears, "I've got you, I've got you."

It's Jongseong's voice, so Jungwon believes it. He stops fighting the current and lets the waves take him.

The dream rips, light leaks and double exposed images blinding him until his vision clears. Now he's on the beach, surrounded by several people from his village as the rain still pours and the waves violently smash against the rocks.

There's a little girl next to him. She's urging her older brother to wake up, and Jungwon's eyes burn with sand and salt as he watches her plead with a dead body he wishes was his own.

When Jungwon wakes up, it's only when he's entered the bathroom that he realizes he's crying.

So, ENHYPEN debuts.

Everyone nods their head to Jungwon's appointment as leader because He's really mature for his age. It sounds like a cruel joke only Jungwon knows the punchline to, but in that case he's the only one who gets to laugh, so who's the real winner here?

Don't answer that.

Before one of their music show performances, Jungwon watches Jongseong swivel around in his makeup chair. He pulls at his newly bleached hair, the tips dyed just the faintest hint of orangey-pink. It's a new look on him.

He looks like a peach.

So Jungwon says, "You look like a peach, hyung."

"Really?" Jongseong pouts. "I think they went too heavy on the dye."

"I don't think so." Seriously, the dye's barely noticeable. Jungwon pauses before admitting, "I like it."

Jongseong perks up. "Then maybe it's not so bad."

Jungwon nods. "You look like I could eat you." He makes a nom sound and pinches Jongseong's cheek. He's lost all the baby fat from his trainee days. Jungwon misses it.

"Yeah?" Jongseong laughs, his joy filling out in between Jungwon's fingers. "I'd let you."

Jungwon freezes. This kind of confession was dangerous, the knowledge that Jongseong would let Jungwon consume him. Because Jungwon could. And Jongseong would.

"You say things like that so easily, hyung."

Jongseong shrugs, "Why should it be hard?"

"Because—" I can't seem to say the words I want to around you. And, as if to prove himself right, Jungwon doesn't finish his sentence because he trips as he gets up from his chair.

"Woah, careful there," Jongseong catches him. Jungwon still flails a little, his shoes chunky and admittedly too big on him, so Jongseong murmurs, "Hey, I've got you, I've got you."

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Jungwon hastily gets up and out of Jongseong's arms. He frantically smoothes over the wrinkles in his outfit as he stammers out, "I've got to—um," he pulls out his phone, "Sorry, my mom's calling me."

Jungwon bolts out of the dressing room and heads straight for the bathroom, blinking away his tears on the way.

Truthfully, Jungwon had been planning to confess to Jongseong once they'd wrapped up with award show season. Jongseong and Heeseung were very much not a thing anymore, and Jungwon isn't blind to the way Jongseong looks at him.

It's the same way Jungwon looks at Jongseong.

Jungwon looks at him and thinks, Maybe you love me the way I love you.

But ever since they started living together, Jungwon's dreams come to him more often than they have in years. Jongseong wasn't just in that one life in Nineveh twenty-five hundred years ago. Now, Jongseong's littered in what seems like every life he's ever lived. Jongseong will clap his hand on Jungwon's shoulder and then he sees them sailing on a ship together eighteen lifetimes ago. Jungwon loops their legs together and then he sees them playing ball on a field five lifetimes ago. Jongseong rests his head on Jungwon's shoulder and then he sees them old and tired, lying together in a bed taking their final breaths nine lifetimes ago.

It almost makes them sound like—

Like soulmates.

The idea that they were always meant to be makes Jungwon feel sick.

Predestiny seems so fickle. That Jungwon-and-Jongseong would have always happened in some way because fate deemed it so, not because they wanted it to happen.

And, even more so, because not every life is filled with love.

Jungwon looks at his hands and sees them bloodied with guilt. Jongseong has died by them too many times in the past. Jungwon shouldn't know any of this, but he does.

So, when he looks at himself in the mirror and finds the words You're in love with Park Jongseong plastered onto his forehead, all he can think about is a Jongseong who drowned because he saved a Jungwon who didn't know how to swim. He's always been too self-sacrificing for his own good.

Jongseong's soul has always been so good, Jongseong has always been so good, and Jungwon feels like a bad luck charm Jongseong can't get rid of.

Jungwon knows they're very lucky in this life but now, every time Jungwon looks at Jongseong, he feels like he should be mourning. Now, every time he looks at Jongseong, he thinks, We will be a tragedy.

So, Jungwon furiously rubs at his forehead to remove all visible traces of love. He can't stop himself from loving Jongseong, but he can stop himself from acting on it, from saying it out loud.

Anything more leaves Jungwon terrified of the fallout because, if Jungwon's involved, it seems like Jongseong will always be the inevitable collateral damage.

This doesn't mean Jungwon lets Jongseong go, though. He doesn't think that's possible.

Jungwon links their pinkies whenever their hands skirt against each other, he grabs the edge of Jongseong's shirt just so he's always in reach, and he loops their legs whenever they sit next to each other.

He holds Jongseong in any way he can so they can be as close as possible.

Jungwon allows himself this small bit of selfishness; as long as he doesn't name what they are, then maybe it's not as real as it's turning out to be.

In any case, he likes the way they are. Whenever Jungwon slips his hand into Jongseong's, he doesn't think they need any words. They're Jungwon-and-Jay; Jongseong-and-Jungwon, and that should be enough.

It's January and they're in Gapyeong filming the second season of ENHYPEN&Hi, and they've just about switched off most of the cameras for the night.

Right now, Jongseong's crushing Jungwon under his weight, the both of them squished on top of one sleeping mat together. Not by force, but by choice.

"Jungwon," Jongseong fake whines, sniffling from the cold. "That's my spot."

Jungwon doesn't even spare him a glance, scrolling through his phone unbothered. "There's no such thing, hyung."

Jungwon's already waiting for Jongseong with open arms as Jongseong descends to tickle Jungwon into defeat. Jungwon isn't even ticklish, but they both forget that as they laugh.

Yeah, Jungwon doesnt think letting Jongseong go is possible at all.

Something's gnawing on his brain, though. Earlier, through immense fidgeting with sweet potatoes they found more interesting than each other, they'd filmed a heart-to-heart group conversation. Jungwon admitted for the first time how their debut left him becoming Atlas at sixteen-years-old, crying into Heeseung's arms after filming their debut showcase, and his nonchalance did nothing to eb the worry in the others' eyes.

But Jongseong nodded along like he knew just what Jungwon was talking about. Only, Jungwon never told Jongseong.

Jungwon asks him about it now, and Jongseong headbutts his shoulder, wincing back at the sharp jut of the bone.

"Shit, ow—"

"Shh," Jungwon snickers. "Don't let Ni-ki hear you."

Jongseong drops a limp hand onto Jungwon's face, but he quickly pulls it off with a squawk when Jungwon lets the tip of his tongue lick his palm. "He curses more than all of us combined."

"Fuck you," Riki jokes from across the room, eliciting a stern Ni-ki-yah from Sunghoon.

Jungwon and Jongseong erupt into giggles, and they lower their voices into whispers.

"Anyway, Heeseung-hyung didn't tell me, if that's what you wanted to know. I saw you go to the bathroom after to wash your face." Jongseong starts twirling Jungwon's hair between his fingers. "'M never gonna force you, but you know you can always talk to us, right? All of us, not just Heeseung-hyung."

Me, you can talk to me, is what Jungwon hears.

Jungwon sighs, closing his eyes to the feeling of Jongseong's hand in his hair. The constant back hugging, the lap sitting, the hand holding. The I've missed you s. And now Jongseong wants Jungwon to give him his entire heart.

Jungwon can't give him that. So instead, he digs his nose into the crook of Jongseong's neck. "You smell nice, hyung."

"And you change the subject," Jongseong sighs.

Jungwon huffs out a laugh at being caught before nuzzling Jongseong's neck as an apology. "So you want to have deep talks with me, hm? Are we that close, hyung?" Jungwon playfully asks. He curls his pinky around Jongseong's. This was his own way of accepting Jongseong's offer.

"To me we are," Jongseong shifts as he sleepily smacks his lips. "Are we to you?"

Yes. Jungwon watches Riki and Sunghoon toss a tangerine between each other. He doesn't say that, though. Instead, he whispers, "You're so nice to me."

"We're all nice to you," Jongseong replies, and it seems like he doesn't find his own answer satisfactory, so he lightly shrugs and adds on, "I like you. Does there need to be any other reason?"

Jungwon looks at Jongseong to read his face, but Jongseong's already wearing his sleeping mask.

I like you too. "No, I guess." And, not even to Jongseong, really, he whispers, "When did we get so close?" There's a confirmation in that question. "It's almost scary how easy it was for us to be like this." This being undefined in that statement.

"You didn't make it easy to get close to you before, though," Jongseong mumbles into his shoulder, already on the edge of sleep. "You don't make it easy to get close to you now, sometimes."

Jungwon's breath hitches. Yeah, that's his own fault, isn't it?

"I'm sorry," Jungwon mumbles into the air.

Jongseong snores in response.

Sunoo comes back from his shower, and he closes the light.

They're in the car on their way back from school, and Jungwon dozes off to his playlists while Jongseong watches a video on the history of vikings on his phone.

"You really like watching educational historical stuff," Jungwon pointed out one day in between shoots.

Jongseong tugged on his earbuds when he replied, "Yeah, a lot of it tends to stick in my brain so I end up just wanting to learn more."

Jungwon has a theory for where that affinity comes from. He does not say it out loud.

It usually takes about ten songs for them to get home, so once this current song finishes—Jungwon's been keeping track—they should be nearly there. Jungwon blindly rummages through his bag for his keys, but he ends up pulling out Jongseong's letter from I-LAND instead.

Jongseong whines once he sees what's in Jungwon's hands, clicking his phone shut. "Why do you still have that? It's been—what? Over half a year now? Just throw it out like everyone else did!"

No one, in fact, had thrown away their letters. Riki keeps his tucked in the arms of his monkey plushie, Sunghoon taped his to the lid of the box holding his old ice skates, and Heeseung keeps his in the cover of his top secret songwriting journal. But Jongseong doesn't need to know any of that.

"I told you before, hyung, it's for me to tease you with," Jungwon blinks the sleep out of his eyes as he dramatically unfolds the pink paper. "Should I read it out loud?" He clears his voice. "To Jay, Jungwon is—"

"Stop that, stop that right now," Jongseong jabs Jungwon's side and Jungwon giggles, holding the paper up high.

Despite the seatbelt holding him back, Jongseong still tries to wrestle the paper out of Jungwon's hands, and Jungwon immediately stuffs it back into his bag for fear of it getting ripped.

He grabs one of Jongseong's hands to stop his assault, and Jongseong easily gives up the fight. Jongseong absently threads his fingers with Jungwon's, linking them together for the rest of the car ride.

Jungwon does keep the letter to tease Jongseong, that's a large part of it. The real reason, though, is that the letter's a perfect snapshot of how eighteen-year-old Jongseong felt about sixteen-year old-Jungwon back then. A piece of his love frozen in time, all for Jungwon no matter how much it changes, because they will no doubt continue to grow and evolve.

Jungwon gets to keep this piece of Jongseong forever, though.

Jongseong squeezes his hand and Jungwon blinks out of his daze. He realizes he's on his thirteenth song now, and when he looks out the window, they're deep into the city and nowhere near their dorm.

The car halts, and Jongseong makes quick of taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the car.

Jungwon stays put. He taps their manager's shoulder. "Where are we?"

"Oh? Jay didn't tell you?"

Jungwon shakes his head.

"Then I guess he wanted it to be a surprise." Their manager nods his head towards Jungwon's bag, "Just leave that here. Go find Jay while I go park."

Jungwon listens, but Jongseong's nowhere to be found as Jungwon's out on the sidewalk. The leaves on the trees are growing back, spring kicking into full gear. They're in a very busy area, street vendors and restaurants alike all clustered together.

A hand slips into his own, and Jungwon's shoulders relax.

"Jongseong-hyung," Jungwon breathes out. "I've missed you."

"Aw, I've missed you too. Did you think I abandoned you?" Jongseong teases. "You never have to worry about that, I'll always come back to you." He begins walking and Jungwon follows his lead. "Sorry for bolting, but I just wanted to make sure all the shops I wanted to visit were still around. You know how fast these things come and go sometimes."

Jungwon nods, giddy as he looks around. He's never been in this neighborhood before. "Did you have this all planned out? Why keep it a secret?"

Jongseong's words stick to each other, molasses between each syllable as he responds, "We didn't have schedules after class today and we haven't been out in so long, so I figured we'd seize the opportunity." He bumps Jungwon's shoulder with his own, his eyes watching the crosswalk sign. "And sometimes surprises are fun."

Jungwon's looking at Jongseong when he says, "They are." He looks away when Jongseong turns to grin at him.

"Now let's go," Jongseong tugs him forward. "There's this restaurant I've been wanting to try for so long and..."

Jongseong goes on to animatedly describe food he's never had before, and Jungwon grins at the back of his head, the curve of his lips, the flutter of his lashes as he listens.

"...Jungwon. Jungwon?"

Several hand pointers poke into his sides, jolting him back into the present. Sunghoon and Jake poke their hand pointers into Jungwon's cheeks, eliciting his dimples as he grins, and Riki's hands clasp around Jungwon's shoulders to steady him.

Right, they're in the middle of filming another quiz-like interview. Surface-level questions, rehearsed answers. No wonder Jungwon spaced out.

"See?" Jongseong laughs, searching for the right camera to look into. Jungwon can see the teleprompter now, and it reads Who's most likely to space out in the middle of a conversation? Hah. "He's the daydreamer out of all of us."

It's true. Jungwon always feels like he's floating, constantly spacing out. It's part of why he likes wearing baggy clothing so much. It gives his body space to move while his mind catches up.

Over the years, though, he's found some things that help ground him back into the present. Taekwondo grounded him for a long, long time. And now dancing grounds him. Singing grounds him. Performing grounds him. Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Riki—all the other boys ground him.

Jongseong grounds him.

As if he knew just what to do, Jongseong absently grabs Jungwon's hand into his own, playing with his fingers and turning the rings adorning them.

The teleprompter switches to the next question.

"Who likes being complimented the most?"

Suddenly there's a flurry of hand pointers flying around in the air, most of them pointing towards Sunoo, Heeseung, and Riki, but Jungwon briefly scans through the members before pointing at Jongseong.

Riki snickers under his breath. "Called it."

Jungwon doesn't look behind him as he whispers, "What?"

"You always choose him."

Jungwon opens his mouth, but he doesn't get a chance to respond. Jongseong's staring at Jungwon's pointer in confusion. "Why'd you choose me?" he tilts his head.

Jongseong isn't someone who likes bragging. He's confident—how he presents himself is proof of his own capabilities, regardless of what you think about him. But if you look closer, and Jungwon watches him very closely, Jongseong aches for acknowledgement, though he'd never admit it. Because if no one acknowledges him but himself, then maybe he's not worth complimenting. Maybe he's not worth loving.

Jungwon doesn't say any of that. Instead, he chooses to say, "Because your face gets all funny whenever you get complimented, hyung." Jungwon turns to look at the camera. He hopes it's the right one. "Everyone, please give our Jay-hyung lots of compliments all the time so we get some free entertainment at home!"

Jongseong jabs him in his side, and Jungwon meets him halfway.

Later that night, Jungwon's squinting at his phone, lazily scrolling through his apps when Riki's head swoops down from the top bunk.

"You awake, hyung?"

Jungwon jumps, bumping his head back against his headboard. Jake mumbles a sympathetic ow in his sleep at the sound.

Riki swings down onto his bed while Jungwon groans, rubbing the back of his head. Jungwon glares at him, but Riki pays him no mind. Riki leans his back against the wall while he entangles Jungwon's leg with his and, for a while, they just scroll through their phones together in silence. The resident insomniacs.

There's a click, and Riki turns off his phone. Even through the darkness, Jungwon can make out the way Riki looks at him. Like he's searching for something.

"What is it?" Jungwon asks, clicking his own phone shut. The blanketed moonlight highlights Riki's silhouette, the jut of his cheekbone. He looks like a ghost. "Spit it out."

"You remember them too, don't you?" Riki whispers.

Jungwon furrows his brows. "Remember...who?"

Riki leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Your past lives."

Sunoo snores a little and Sunghoon twitches in his sleep. Despite their air conditioner being on, the summer heat smothers him.

Jungwon tries to take a deep breath, but it comes out shallow. "You're not joking, right?" He couldn't handle it if this was a joke. A terrible, terrible joke.

"Hyung." Riki's looking at him now, and he's looking at someone who isn't here. At someone who lived hundreds of years ago. "I could never joke about this."

Jungwon grasps at his sheets to find his phone—for something to hold onto. He tries not to think about how that something should be someone's hand.

He gives up looking. His phone's buried somewhere under his blankets. "I remember them," Jungwon admits. He hasn't talked to anyone about his dreams in years, not since he'd asked his sister about them when he was ten. His lungs feel so empty now.

Riki gently grabs Jungwon's hand, loosely holding it in his. This is not the hand Jungwon was hoping for, but he holds on nevertheless. "Me too," Riki nods. "I remember them too."

"I thought—" Jungwon whispers, swallowing his own grief, "I thought I was the only one."

Riki shakes his head. "One of the few, but not the only one. If you dig through all the bullshit online, there's a really small community of people who talk about how they remember, too. Just like the way I do. When I was younger, I thought I was just crazy." He looks at Jungwon. "And then I met you, and I knew for sure I wasn't."

Jungwon closes his eyes, trying to process the fact that he was never alone in this. What he would give to go back and tell this to his younger self. "Was I in one of your past lives?"

"Nope."

"Then how did you k—"

Suddenly there's a thumb stuck between his eyebrows, and Riki's soothing the tense furrow in Jungwon's skin.

"You'll develop wrinkles, hyung," Riki admonishes. Then he sighs, "You space out sometimes—not like the way Sunghoonie-hyung does when he wakes up."

Jungwon snorts, and Riki's face lights up for a moment before it grows serious again, continuing, "But it's like you disappear for moments at a time. And when you come back, you look so tired. Worn. Older."

Jungwon sits quietly for a moment.

"Do you disappear sometimes, too?" Maybe Jungwon isn't as observant as he thought if he's missed something like this.

"Why do you think I've got these eyebags?"

Jungwon's mouth drops open and Riki laughs, "Just joking, those are genetic." He pulls at Jungwon's pinky. "I don't space out the way you do, I think. For me, names get messy. They all get jumbled up in my head—too many names of people I don't remember. Of the people I used to be. It's kind of why I don't mind you guys not calling me 'Riki'."

Riki shrugs, "I've had so many names it feels like I actually have none at all."

Jungwon looks at Riki with so much sadness in his eyes, and Riki soothes over his eyebrows. "Wrinkles," he reminds him.

Heeseung rouses up to use the bathroom, so Jungwon and Riki lie down and pretend to sleep. Heeseung stands over them for a moment before pulling the blanket over their shoulders and shuffling out of the room.

Once he's out of sight, Jungwon turns to whisper, "Did the online communities ever give advice on how to—how to cope?" Jungwon makes his voice even smaller. "On how to forget?"

Riki huffs warm breaths against Jungwon's skin as he hums, "It was mostly just 'Good luck and meditate, because we all have this current life to live anyway.'" He shrugs, "It's kind of shitty, but I've taken it to heart." He nuzzles his head into Jungwon's neck, and Jungwon realizes Riki's already taken over half the bed. Typical.

"I don't know if it's possible to forget all of it, hyung," Riki yawns. "All you can do is not stew in what you remember."

Riki falls asleep soon enough now that there's a warm body next to his, but Jungwon isn't as lucky. He looks at the bunk across from him, just the tip of Jongseong's nose peeking out between the sheets, and Jungwon doesn't know if it's possible for him to not stew in what he remembers.

"So, what's the oldest life you can remember?"

Riki clings closer to Jungwon now that he's confirmed they both remember, and Jungwon welcomes it. It's cute how he wraps his arm around his shoulder or snuggles up against his side.

Maybe Riki's been a bit lonely with all of this too.

"Well.. there's one about two thousand seven hundred years ago, I think? It's one of the lives I've remembered the longest too, so old it was in a city history's not sure existed." They're sitting on the couch at home, and Jungwon's watching Riki play Animal Crossing on the TV.

"But you know it does."

"I do."

"Wait." Riki stops playing mid-wasp escape, hardly blinking an eye as his character gets stung. "Nearly three thousand years ago? Wow. The oldest one I can remember is—what? Maybe seven hundred years ago?" He turns to look at Jungwon. "You're old old."

"It just means I'm still your hyung either way."

"Nah, I should be calling you harabeoji or something."

Jungwon kicks at the controller in Riki's hands.

The front door unlocks, and Sunoo and Jongseong enter. They had to go to school for exams, though that doesn't seem like it's at the forefront of their minds as Sunoo animatedly describes the latest drama he's seen to Jongseong.

When they first debuted, though Jongseong and Sunoo were never antagonistic, they always seemed on the verge of collision, like they didn't know how to interact with each other. Once Jungwon got tired of watching them awkwardly orbit each other, he shoved them into a supply closet together in the hopes that the laundry detergent gods could help them reach some kind of understanding with each other.

The gods failed him—it was time and exposure that eventually brought the understanding. But Jungwon likes to think that he helped.

Right now, as Sunoo enters the living room and scrunches his nose at Riki sitting next to Jungwon, Jungwon wants to shove Sunoo and Riki into a supply closet together. Failed experiments should be tested again, after all, and Jungwon's a little tired of their thorniness with each other. It's been a little depressing, honestly.

Sunoo gingerly sits by Jungwon's left side, Riki at Jungwon's right, while Jongseong parses through one of their many clothing racks in the living room.

"Jungwon-ah," Jongseong starts, "You shouldn't leave so many snacks in your pockets." Jungwon had lended his school blazer to Jongseong—they've been looking for months and they still have no idea where Jongseong's is. "You've got a few chocolates in here and they can melt."

"That was on purpose, hyung," Jungwon makes himself small in his clothes. "I left those for you to snack on."

"Oh." Jongseong takes his head out of the clothing rack. When Jungwon looks at him, he's giving Jungwon a soft grin, the kind that peeks in his slight dimple and melts in his eyes. "Thanks, then. I'll enjoy them well."

Jungwon doesn't need a mirror to know that he's giving Jongseong the same grin back.

Once Jongseong's gone to take a shower, Jungwon's taking a sip of water when Sunoo asks, "So how long have you guys been dating?"

"What?" Jungwon chokes out.

"You and Jay-hyung," Sunoo unnecessarily tacks on.

"Oh, let me guess, let me guess," Riki bounces as he thumps Jungwon's back. "Two months?"

Sunoo scoffs, rolling his eyes, and Riki gives him a side-eye. "Please. I'd bet they've been dating since debut, at least. So my guess is ten months."

They both look at Jungwon. "Which one of us is closer?" Sunoo demands.

"Both of you are equally far off from the answer, because Jay-hyung and I aren't dating."

"You're joking," Riki says.

Jungwon gives him a look. "I could never joke about this."

Riki's mouth presses into a thin line, and he backs down.

"Jay-hyung and I don't act like we're dating, right?" Jungwon nervously asks, flitting his head to look back and forth between the both of them. "Right?"

Neither of them answer him. Riki saves his game and shuts the TV off.

"So, you guys are going to date soon then, right?" Sunoo asks.

Jungwon gets up. "And this is where I leave."

"But—"

"Nope."

Once Jungwon's in the hallway, Sunoo shouts, "I should shove you guys into a supply closet together."

Jungwon doesn't look behind him as he shouts back, "I'll shove you into a supply closet, hyung. Again."

Sunoo goes quiet for a moment before Jungwon can hear him tell Riki, "He's really good at locking those things, you know..."

Jungwon needs to take a nap and pretend that conversation never happened.

Riki and Sunoo start talking again. Like right now, as they're waiting to do their individual Chuseok photoshoots, they're whispering together and sharing devious looks that should probably concern Jungwon. And they do, but he's just glad they're on friendly speaking terms again. He deserves to be leader of the month solely on the basis of facilitating that.

He didn't actually do anything, but he's pretty sure they're talking again because they're talking about him. Jungwon will just have to roll with their punches as they come.

Jungwon's on his phone when Jongseong plops his head onto his lap, finally done with his photoshoot. They're at a small cultural site, a recreation of an old hanok encasing them in the past. Jungwon's fingers absentmindedly trace along the silver floral patterns on Jongseong's hanbok.

"I look good, don't I?" Jongseong jokes, looking up at him.

Jungwon pretends to keep his eyes on his phone. "You do."

"Oh," Jongseong blushes. His hands fumble atop his chest, and his eyes look everywhere but at Jungwon. "You look good too."

Jungwon rests his hand in Jongseong's hair, gently carding through the tufts. "Thanks."

Jungwon blinks and, for a moment, he's several hundred years younger. The plants around them are real, just barely on the verge of death as autumn makes itself known in the vibrant colors of the trees. They're no longer sitting in a set, but they're in a real Joseon palace.

Jongseong's head is still lying on Jungwon's lap, and Jungwon's hands are still running through his hair. Not much has changed.

While Jungwon's fitted in simple and common clothes, likely a palace staff, Jongseong's wearing a silk hanbok laced with gold and other fine materials. He looks regal, elegant, refined. A prince.

He looks beautiful.

Jungwon is not in control of his body when he leans down to kiss Jongseong's cheek, the motion rehearsed as though he's done this hundreds of times before. A secret history will never know about.

"Jungwon? Where did you go?"

Jungwon jolts. He's back in the present. His bones feel heavier, but his eyes shine bright. His lips are nowhere near Jongseong's cheek, though Jongseong's head is still in his lap and Jungwon's hands are still in his hair.

Jongseong gives him a fond grin. "There you are. I've missed you."

Jungwon lets out a shaky breath. He thumbs around Jongseong's ear, rubbing over his conch piercing. "I've missed you too."

Jongseong makes a sound of concern. "Are you," his brows furrow. "Are you crying?"

Jungwon wipes his eyes. They're wet. "Ah, don't worry about it," he reassures. "I just saw something very beautiful."

Jongseong doesn't look convinced, so Jungwon pulls him up onto his feet. He doesn't let go of his hand. "The trees are the prettiest this time of year. Let's take a walk once we're done," Jungwon suggests.

Jongseong holds on tight. "Let's."

Jungwon's lying on Jongseong's new bed playing Animal Crossing on Riki's Switch. Jongseong will always complain whenever he walks into his and Jake's room only to find Jungwon already there, but there's no actual annoyance on his face as he crawls into bed to settle around Jungwon.

Jungwon's repeatedly wacking the same tree with a stone axe when he starts, "Hyung."

"Hm?" Jongseong hums into his skin. His voice sounds soaked in sleep.

Jungwon switches to a regular axe and the tree falls down in one fell swoop. "Do you believe in soulmates?"

Jongseong plays with Jungwon's ear, huffing out a laugh, "Are those romantic fantasy films getting to your head, Jungwonie?"

Jungwon pushes his head back for Jongseong to scratch his scalp, and Jongseong acquiesces. "I was just curious," Jungwon mumbles.

Lately, management's been encouraging them to practice songwriting more often and to show them the results. Every time, without fail, Jungwon's pencil—and notes app—always seem to circle back to the same place.

Words that are coated in honey and leave heart-shaped stains on the skin. Inevitabilities, lifelines—

Soulmates.

"You're a bit of a romantic, aren't you, Jungwon-ssi?" their songwriter advisor had teased when he read through one of Jungwon's recent attempts.

"A bit," Jungwon had agreed. But really, all he could think was:

I was just writing about Jongseong.

Now, Jongseong hums against the back of Jungwon's neck, and Jungwon feels the vibrations travel down his spine. "No," he decides to answer. "But yes."

"What does that even mean?"

Jongseong keeps one hand scratching Jungwon's scalp while the other wraps around Jungwon's waist, lightly rubbing his tummy, and if Jungwon were a cat he knows he would be purring. And he knows that Jongseong would like that so much.

"Sometimes, I think that fate exists. The fact that I'm here with all six of you right now, like this, feels a little bit like fate. The fact that I could meet anyone at any time, really—there's a sprinkle of fate in chance, in luck." Jongseong pauses his tummy rubs to think, and Jungwon whines. Jongseong continues the rubbing and his thought, "But that's all I think it is—just a sprinkle. Because even if people are fated to meet, to be together, to be soulmates, that doesn't mean anything if there isn't effort. Predestined fates don't mean much if there's no depth to the relationship, right?"

"Right," Jungwon nods.

"Do you believe in them?" Jongseong prods.

"I'm not sure yet," Jungwon lies. "It sounds a bit overwhelming, that people can be meant to be, sometimes over and over again."

"People can be meant to be, but that doesn't mean they'll stay," Jongseong says. "The right people choose to stay."

Jungwon goes quiet at that. Jongseong doesn't look like he's going anywhere anytime soon. Jungwon hopes he can promise him the same.

"That's not what you ordered, hyung."

Jungwon and Jongseong are eating at a new restaurant together. It's become a routine thing for whenever they have gaps of free time in between their schedules, which are usually Mondays when Sunghoon emcees—Jungwon and Jongseong go out and visit restaurants they've never been to before.

Jungwon tries to not think too hard about how this was exclusive to just the two of them. He tries to not think too hard about how these sound like dates.

He only half succeeds.

"I don't want to bother the waitress," Jongseong shakes his head. "This place is busy and it's—it's fine. I can eat this instead."

Jongseong had ordered a bowl of jjamppong, but he got a bowl of doenjang jjigae instead. They're very different, and Jungwon doesn't like the idea of Jongseong not getting what he wanted.

"Excuse me," Jungwon waves his hand up to catch the attention of their waitress.

"Jungwon, it's fine—"

Jungwon bulldozes ahead anyway. Once the waitress takes the bowl and brings it back to the kitchen, Jongseong nudges Jungwon's foot with his own.

"You didn't have to do that for me," he grumbles.

"I would do anything for you, hyung," Jungwon replies. He nudges his foot back, though he doesn't look into Jongseong's eyes for fear of what he might see.

Later, as they're about to leave, Jungwon asks, "You're not too full yet, are you?"

"Hm? Was there somewhere else you wanted to go?"

"Well, there's a new stall around here that sells corn cheese and—"

Jongseong jumps to his feet. "I love you."

I love you too. Jungwon grins wide. "Why do you think I chose to go to this restaurant?"

Jongseong pulls him out the door. "Let's go!"

Corn nerd, Jungwon beams at his excitement. Then, his mind naturally thinks—

Having soulmates wouldn't be so bad if you were mine.

Jungwon leaves the thought behind as he tries to keep up with Jongseong's pace.

In this dream, Jongseong is dying.

They're surrounded by Georgian architecture and wearing waistcoats that choke them. They're on the cold tiled floor of some dark, hidden-away room, and Jungwon's pressing down on the blood gushing from Jongseong's neck. God, there's so much fucking blood.

Hands push against his chest and when Jungwon looks at Jongseong's face, his eyes are filled with fear.

Adrenaline races through him and Jungwon slowly realizes that he's not trying to stop the flow of blood, but that he's actually driving the knife deeper in.

There's so, so much blood.

Jungwon jolts awake.

It's the middle of winter and it just snowed for the first time yesterday, but his covers are suffocating him and Jungwon can't breathe, he can't breathe at all, so he pushes his blankets away before haphazardly swatting around the sheets for his phone.

He checks the time, and it's deep into the middle of the night.

Jungwon lies there in the chilly air—someone probably turned down the heat—and does one of the breathing exercises his grandmother never fails to text him every week.

Jungwon wipes his eyes, and now he's sure that he's stained his hands with blood.

He swings his legs off the bed, his feet feeling around for his slippers, and he winces at the sudden pain of pressure in his joints, the weight of knowing more than he should making his bones heavy and his movement slow.

Once he's standing, his eyes automatically scan around the bedroom for a quick head count, and he's surprised to find that Sunghoon's the only other one with him.

Jungwon slinks into the hallway to find the dim light of the television in the living room. Riki and Sunoo are asleep and precariously slumped against each other on the couch, various snacks littered on top of their coffee table as the television plays some horror movie. Jungwon shuts the TV off as he softly pulls a blanket up around them and tucks it into their sides. Once that's done, he quickly peeks into Heeseung's room and finds him in deep sleep. Okay, everyone else has been accounted for except—

Jungwon hesitates before turning the doorknob to Jake and Jongseong's room. Jake's contorted in a position that can't be comfortable, his leg stuck out into the cold air and his arm twisted around his head, so Jungwon pushes his leg back under the covers and gently untwists his arm so that it's laying by his side.

Jungwon turns and takes in the sight of Jongseong softly breathing. He's got earplugs in and a RYAN sleeping mask over his eyes.

Jungwon stares at Jongseong's birthmark. Somewhere, buried deep under a few dozen lives, Jungwon thinks he's the reason it's there.

A knife lodged deep in his neck in one life, apologetic lips on the skin in another.

Jungwon shudders. He knows it's dangerous to get lost in the past, the loose threads tangling together into something terrifying and terrible until everything unravels when you try to tug them apart.

He gingerly crawls into the Jungwon-shaped space Jongseong's left for him in his bed, quickly getting himself under the covers before too much of the draft can get in and make Jongseong cold.

Jongseong shifts, and the gravel of his voice sends chills down Jungwon's spine when he rumbles out a sleepy, "Jungwon?" His eye mask is still on. "Y're still awake?"

"Had a nightmare," Jungwon mumbles as he delicately intertwines his fingers with Jongseong's. It feels like he can breathe again.

"Oh," Jongseong acknowledges sympathetically, squeezing Jungwon's hand. "C'mere."

A warm hand clasps around the back of Jungwon's neck and gently brings him down to the crook of Jongseong's neck. Jungwon readjusts himself so that he settles down atop Jongseong's chest, his ear pressed firmly against his heart.

The thumping of his heart makes Jungwon want to cry in relief.

Jungwon tries to match his heart beat with Jongseong's to calm the trembling in his hands.

A small, inexplicable part of Jungwon hates Jongseong. I hate you for making me like this. I hate you for being so lovable. I hate you for loving me.

None of it makes sense. With Jongseong, it never does.

Jungwon's been getting too comfortable with him again, forgetting what initially drove him away in fear. He knows he shouldn't listen to thoughts soaked in the shadows of the night, but the words We will be a tragedy play in his head over and over.

Maybe Jungwon should wean off of him. It's for your own good, Jungwon thinks. He doesn't think too hard about how it feels like he's just running away again.

They finish their comeback promotions at the end of spring, so it's a bit surreal when they spend the summer preparing for their mini US showcase tour in the fall. There's a lot of tentativeness surrounding it, but management's been pretty confident that the shows would run smoothly. They'd practiced their old and new dance routines regardless, but now they're doing dress rehearsals, skit practices, and planning out their itineraries for their small bits of free time in between.

They'll only be touring five cities—New York, Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles, Seattle—but Jungwon's thrumming with a kind of energy he hasn't felt in a long, long time.

"You look so excited," Jongseong laughs. It's just them in the practice room right now, the others planning on joining them later.

"I am," Jungwon grins, hopping between each foot. "I really, really am."

"You're so cute."

He says this as Jungwon spins on his toe, so when he trips and falls in surprise, Jongseong knows to catch him.

"Clumsy, clumsy Jungwonie," he sing songs. For a moment, as he holds Jungwon's hands, Jongseong's face softens. "Pretty, pretty Jungwonie."

Jungwon shallowly swallows, and he pulls away. "Let's practice that dance break again, hyung," he says as he goes to change the song, schooling his tone back into something more serious.

When Jongseong's in the middle of a jumping move, though, Jungwon mutters "You're cute too" loud enough for Jongseong to hear over the music. Jongseong falls in surprise, but Jungwon's there to catch him.

"Payback," Jungwon grins.

Jongseong doesn't seem to mind a little revenge.

Jungwon and Jongseong end up sitting next to each other on the plane to New York and, when they do a random draw for hotel roommates, they get paired up together as well.

"Weird," Jungwon remarks.

Jongseong hands Riki something behind his back. "Yeah, so weird."

The first two shows go about as smoothly as Jungwon could have hoped for. Although their staff discourages it, Jungwon carries as many of the flowers, letters, and stuffed cat dolls left for him as he can in his arms.

Right now, they've just wrapped up their first celebratory V-LIVE, all seven of them huddled together in Jungwon and Jongseong's room as they shared glasses of inconspicuously wine-colored drinks. Grape juice, Jongseong had deadpanned to the camera for old times sake. One city down, four more to go. Jake had retired to bed first, then everyone else slowly trickled out, leaving just the two of them.

Jongseong's dozed off on his shoulder, and Jungwon's trying to count all of his freckles when Sunoo calls out from the doorway. "Jungwonie! Jay-hyung—"

Sunoo rounds the corner and pauses in his tracks. He silently takes out his phone and snaps a picture of them.

The sound jolts Jungwon from his daze. "What? What?"

"Do you not see what I see," Sunoo asks with a flat tone.

"See what?"

Jongseong shifts against Jungwon's shoulder, their legs overlapping as he snuggles closer to him.

Sunoo gestures to the rest of the hotel room. "There's so many places to sit! There's like three other lounge chairs here. Why are you guys just squished up in one of them?"

Jungwon's sides are only a little bit crushed. "He's sleeping, hyung, I can't just move."

"You of all people know that he won't wake up from some simple jostling."

"But what if other people need places to sit?" Jungwon pouts.

Sunoo comes up to him and grasps his right shoulder, mindful of Jongseong's head on the other. "What other people, Jungwon-ah?"

They have a stare off.

Jungwon gives him a look that should read, Just let me have this, hyung.

Sunoo responds with a look that seems like it reads, And you could have more if you wanted.

Jungwon decides that he doesn't enjoy having telepathic powers. No more reading people's minds or their knowing looks.

Sunoo leaves him alone after that, and Jungwon ends up falling asleep in the chair. Although he complains about the crook in his neck the next morning, Jongseong looks like he's never slept better, so he doesn't regret it.

Everything feels like it's going wrong.

It's not. But, god, it feels like it is.

Chicago had gone smoothly enough, and now all their suitcases are already way too full of touristy trinkets. Jungwon and Jongseong continue being hotel roommates somehow. Chance is really weird sometimes, Jongseong had whistled. They hit a bit of a snag in Dallas, though. Or maybe Jungwon was just looking for something to go wrong.

Jongseong corners him the night after their first of two shows. "Hey, is everything okay?"

Jungwon doesn't look up from where he's methodically refolding his clothes. For the third time that night. "Yeah, why wouldn't it?"

"You just seem really tense," Jongseong delicately takes away the shirt Jungwon's currently folding.

"Everything's fine," Jungwon reiterates, snatching the shirt back. He frowns. Now it has wrinkles again.

"Alright, alright," Jongseong surrenders. He lies down on Jungwon's bed, watching as he now reorganizes his bag of toiletries. Jongseong stays quiet for about another five minutes before he asks again, "Are you sure everything's okay?"

Jungwon groans. "Why are you so hung up on that?"

"Because I care about you," Jongseong frowns.

Jungwon can't handle hearing that right now. "Can you just not—" he sucks in a harsh breath, getting up. "Can you not accuse me of something right now."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of something—"

"It sounds like you are," Jungwon heads toward the bathroom.

Jongseong follows him. "It just seemed like something was off—"

"And I keep telling you that everything's fine." Jungwon slams the door shut. Regret immediately floods him as he catches his breath, his mind clearing.

The fight fizzles out of him, and he meekly opens the door. Jongseong's still standing there, unbothered.

"I'm sorry for slamming the door in your face."

Jongseong shrugs. "That's not what I'm worried about here, Jungwon."

"Still. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"I accept your apology." The lights are dim in this hotel, and Jongseong melds a bit into the darkness. He looks like a ghost.

"Everything's not fine," Jungwon admits.

Jongseong guides them to one of the beds, his arm securely wrapped around Jungwon's shoulders as they lie down onto Jongseong's bed. "So, what's wrong?"

Jungwon sighs as he rubs his face. "We got booked for a last minute interview tomorrow, so we can't go to the restaurant Riki was looking forward to. You know I hate his look of disappointment," Jungwon groans, tugging on his fingers. "One of the backup dancers sprained their ankle, so the formation's going to look weird. And I saw their hospital bill for it—I swear the number added five years to my life."

Jongseong chuckles, but he lets Jungwon continue. "One of my shirts is missing a button and I have no idea where it is. If I lost it in New York, then it's probably in the stomach of some street rat, and that makes me so sad, hyung."

"We didn't even get a chance to visit the subway," Jongseong points out. "It's more likely in the stomach of some pigeon."

"Don't remind me that we didn't get to take a train," Jungwon laments. "I've always wanted to see the pizza rat. I'd be okay with him eating my shirt button."

"We'll meet him next time," Jongseong pats his shoulder.

Jungwon knows that Jongseong knows that nothing seems like it's actually wrong, just like he said. At least, nothing particularly important. All the events he just listed are just minor things that have only put him further on edge. His prickliness is his own fault, really.

He's been trying to go through the showcase without holding Jongseong's hand, not even once. He's succeeded so far, but it really just feels like he's failing.

Jongseong watches Jungwon twist a ring he hasn't taken off yet. As if on cue, he asks, "You fidget with your hands all the time, did you ever notice that?"

Jungwon huffs out something that isn't quite a laugh. "Everyone fidgets with their hands, hyung."

Jongseong hums. "That's true." He pretends to yawn, and he rests one of his hands atop Jungwon's chest, right next to Jungwon's own. An invitation. "You fidget with my hands all the time too."

Jungwon edges his hand just a bit closer. "I can stop, if you'd like."

Jongseong turns to look at him, serious. "Don't ever do that."

Jungwon decides to end his self-imposed torture. He makes the first move and links their pinkies together. He lets Jongseong intertwine their hands. The anxious buzzing in Jungwon's body immediately dissipates, and he realizes that, even two years later, it still rings true—he doesn't think it's possible to let Jongseong go.

All he can do is hold on tighter.

The next morning, in the small grace period between breakfast and their first rehearsal, Jongseong drags Jungwon to the nearest crafts store.

"Maybe crocheting can help curb the anxiety," Jongseong suggested. "Give your hands something to do when you can't hold mine."

He piles a few balls of yarn into Jungwon's arms before disappearing to find some crochet hooks. It feels like Jungwon's lost him in this multi-colored maze.

When Jongseong pops out of an aisle Jungwon didn't realize was there, Jongseong remarks, "You're giving me that look you always do."

"Like what?"

Jongseong quirks his head. "Like you don't expect me to be here when you look back."

Jungwon laughs. He has no idea.

Jongseong doesn't seem to find this as funny. "Don't you know this by now? I'll always come back to you," he promises, pulling him to the cashier. "Have a little more faith in me."

They leave the store with a bag full of new supplies, and Jongseong cheekily grins, "Make me something pretty."

Jungwon stares down at the bag, and his heart presses against his skin as it threatens to burst out of his body. "Whatever I make would be ugly," he warns.

"If it's you, then it's pretty."

"Don't you mean 'if it's by you'?"

"Hm?" Jongseong distractedly hums. "Yeah, that's what I meant." He glances at his watch, and he pulls Jungwon along. "C'mon, let's head back."

Jungwon and Jongseong continue being plane seatmates and hotel roommates. The rest of Dallas goes by without a hitch and, when Jongseong scratches his head in Los Angeles over his slowly disappearing hats, Jungwon pretends to be none the wiser.

Now they're in Seattle, and it's the end of their last show. They all give their final ments, and despite how when Riki egged them backstage about not crying, he's the first one to break. Sunoo and Jake burst into tears at the same time seeing Riki cry, and then it's just a domino effect from there.

Jongseong blindly stumbles across the stage and his feet guide him to Jungwon. He envelops him in a hug, his face stained with love. Jungwon pulls up his sleeve and starts wiping the tear streaks on Jongseong's face.

Jungwon isn't crying like the others. It's something he thinks about sometimes—how he only seems to cry when he's mourning the past.

He wonders if he used up all of his tears in his past lives and that's why he has so little in this one. Was he very sad back then? Or was he simply too full of love?

Right now, he hopes it's the latter. He hopes that his love has managed to transcend lifetimes.

And when Jungwon looks at the audience, when he looks at the others, when he looks at Jongseong, he thinks that it has.

They have an early morning flight back to Seoul tomorrow, but they manage to cram a last bit of sightseeing while they're still in Seattle.

Sunoo, Riki, Jake, and Heeseung are riding the Great Wheel. Sunghoon had balked the moment he set eyes on the ferris wheel, so Jungwon and Jongseong opted to stay behind with him.

Sunghoon went off to use the bathroom, so Jungwon and Jongseong slowly stroll along Pier 57 as they wait for him, vlogging the late night multi-colored lights for their tour log series.

Jongseong points the camera their staff gave them up at the ferris wheel, zooming in on a random car. He waves at it with vigor, and Jungwon laughs.

"You're filming some randos, hyung," Jungwon repositions Jongseong's arm. "The four musketeers are over there." They're nearing the top of the ride now. Riki's got both of his arms hanging out the car window waving back at them, and Jungwon thinks he can faintly make out Heeseung's face. He looks dead to the world.

"Isn't the phrase supposed to be the three musketeers?"

There's the faintest Jake-frequency scream that's then followed by an earth-shattering Sunoo-frequency scream.

"Yeah, well," Jungwon says dryly. "There's four of them."

Jongseong chuckles, and Jungwon beams at him from where the camera can't see.

They stop walking, opting instead to lean against the pier railing. It's too dark for the footage to be of much use, but Jongseong continues pointing the camera around, ignoring Jungwon's whines whenever he zooms in too close onto Jungwon's dimple.

"How do you feel now that you've performed in your hometown?" Jungwon asks. Jongseong's been asked this multiple times in their recent interviews, but Jungwon wants to hear him answer it now, all subdued while the taste of performing abroad is still new to their tongues.

"It was nice seeing all my aunts and uncles again," Jongseong kicks a stray pebble. It sloshes into the water. "My cousins are all way too tall now. My old elementary school is still here, my favorite playground isn't."

Then he shrugs. "I'm not too sentimental, though, you know? A really old version of me existed here, once, and I'm coming back as someone else."

"It's like when you're here, all you can see is a ghost of yourself," Jungwon can't help himself.

"Yeah, something like that," Jongseong nods. "So I say 'hi' to my own ghost, make peace with it, and I move on." The breeze blows through as he rests his arms against the railing and stares out across the water. Jungwon thinks the night envelops him beautifully. "But it's nice to be here with you guys."

Jungwon puffs air into his cheeks as he looks out into the water with Jongseong, smiling. "It's nice to be here with you," he nods in agreement.

Jongseong stops recording, clicking the camera shut.

Jungwon holds out the tote bag around his shoulder for Jongseong to put the camera away. A tuft of his hair falls in between his eyes so, with his hands occupied, Jungwon tries shaking it back into place but to no avail. He stomps a little in annoyance, making sure not to jostle the bag too much.

Jongseong smiles as he leans in to tuck the tuft securely behind Jungwon's ear. "I love you," he grins out.

Jungwon looks away and tries to tamp down his smile, though his dimple perseveres. "I know," he nods. I love you too.

He pulls Jongseong's hand into his own and smoothes his thumbs over his knobby knuckles. He wonders why he never noticed earlier how well their hands fit together.

He's always noticed. He just doesn't like admitting it.

Jongseong nudges his shoulder. "Aren't you going to say it back?"

"You already know how I feel about you," Jungwon sticks his tongue out.

A pause. "Do I?"

Jongseong pulls his hand away before Jungwon can quip a teasing, Don't you? He stretches his arms out and, as he turns his back, Jungwon realizes that the smile's fallen off his face. "I don't know what's taking Sunghoon so long," he yawns out. "I'll go get him—the dumbass probably got lost."

Jongseong walks away faster than the situation calls for, and Jungwon's hand aches in his absence.

They quietly go to bed that night and, on their flight back to Seoul, Jongseong switches his seat with Riki, opting to sit next to Sunoo and Sunghoon instead. Both Riki and Sunoo give Jungwon questioning looks, but Jungwon doesn't have an answer for either of them, because he's giving that exact same look to Jongseong.

Jongseong has his eyes closed, earplugs already in as he turns his head to the side.

"Jungwon-ah!"

Jungwon hops over a stray pair of shoes on the floor and shimmies in between two overfilled coat racks in the hallway. Navigating through their dorm is a journey in itself. He peeks his head into Jongseong and Jake's room.

"Yeah, hyung?"

Jongseong turns around and—ah, he got Jungwon's gift.

"Did you leave this for me?"

Damn, Jungwon was hoping it wouldn't be so obvious. "I did. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, um..."

Jongseong's face is serious as he stares at Jungwon's gift in his hands. His eyes are wide and focused and his lips jut out into a lovely pout, and as much as Jungwon wants to just admire him, the silence is clawing at him from the inside out.

"Um," Jungwon picks at the door frame. "You said you wanted a new hat so—

"Oh," Jongseong's eyes light up. "It's a hat."

"A beanie, technically," Jungwon corrects him.

Jungwon crocheted a cat ear beanie for him—or well, at least he tried. Suddenly, Jongseong holds up the beanie like it's the greatest thing he's ever seen, a toothy grin gracing his face.

"Wait, did you not realize—"

"There's a lot of personality in the holes. And the stray strands of yarn are so soft," Jongseong pets it like it's a cat.

Jungwon frowns. "It feels like you're making fun of me. It's okay if you don't like it."

Jongseong whips his head up, offended at the thought. "What? How could I not like it? I love it."

"I'm glad," Jungwon looks down at his hands, pulling his sleeves over his fingertips. "I hope it fits. I, uh, stole some of your hats for size measurements," he admits.

"So that's where all my hats went—" Jongseong pauses. "Wait. You made this? For me?"

Jungwon nods.

Jongseong stares at Jungwon, and then he stares at the beanie. A new expression appears on his face as he begins sniffling a little. He staggers up, stuttering, "I'll be—I'll be right back." Then he's out the door.

Jungwon waits, but Jongseong doesn't come back.

Instead, Riki pops his head into the room about twenty minutes later. "Oh, hyung," he says in relief. "Knew you'd be here."

"How did you know I'd be—"

"Jay-hyung's locked himself in the bathroom." Ah, so that's why Jongseong hasn't come back.

Wait.

"Locked himself in? Are you sure he isn't just..." Jungwon winces. "Having a tough time or something?"

"Well," Riki leans his head against the door. "Sunoo-hyung said it sounded like he was crying."

Okay, now that's definitely concerning. Riki follows Jungwon down the hallway, but Jake's already beat him to the bathroom door, Sunoo standing beside him.

"Jay-ah, how much longer are you gonna take?" Jake pounds on the door. "I've gotta go." Jongseong doesn't respond.

"Jay-hyung?" Jungwon calls out. "Was the food today bad?" Just to be sure.

"Oh god," Jongseong groans.

"Why do you only answer when Jungwon asks?"

"It wasn't, and I'm not taking a shit. I'm not using the bathroom," Jongseong loudly yells, ignoring Jake. "Just—can you guys go away right now?"

It doesn't sound like he's crying, not anymore at least. So Jungwon wracks his brain. He blinks. "Are you jerking off?"

Jake full-body jolts at hearing the words jerking off leave Jungwon's mouth. "Jungwon, what—wait." He turns back to the door. "Are you jerking off?"

Jongseong lets out a groan of eternal death. "No."

"It sounds like you are," Jake waggles his eyebrows before letting his face drop back into a serious expression. "But seriously, dude. I've really gotta go." He grabs an innocent Heeseung as he passes by, tilting his head towards the door when he asks him, "What gets him off?"

Heeseung's eyes bulge out of his head. "How the hell should I know?" He seems disinterested in what's going on, and Riki follows him as he continues on to the living room.

"Fuck. Okay, um." Jake clears his throat before dropping his voice low. "So, Baby Boy, you have been so good for m—"

Something clatters in the bathroom. "What the fuck, Shim Jaeyu—"

Jake drops the act quick, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "You should really learn how to close the incognito tabs on your phone, man. I know way too much about you. Bondage, sir kink, pet pl—"

"Jungwon."

"Yeah, hyung?" Jungwon pauses. "..Or should I call you 'sir.'"

Jongseong goes silent.

Jake whispers loudly, "I thought it was the other way around. Like he calls you—"

"Move over, dumbass," Sunoo pushes past Jake to the door. He ignores the indignant sound Jake lets out when he knocks on the door. "Hyung, is this what I think it's about?"

"No." Jongseong sounds petulant.

"I think it is. Get out of the bathroom."

"No."

"Hyung."

"No."

"Jongseong-hyung," Jungwon butts in.

The door unlocks, and Jongseong steps out. Nose red and eyes damp—he really has been crying. He's wearing the beanie, Jungwon realizes, and he winces. One side is too loose, and the other is too tight around his head. The cat ears look great on him, though.

Jake barrels into the bathroom, and now it's just the three of them.

Before Jungwon could ask Jongseong what was wrong, Jongseong turns to him first. It unnerves Jungwon how serious he is when he asks, "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Jungwon furrows his brows. "No. No? Should there be?"

"Nothing to do with the beanie?" Jongseong continues prodding. "Like, subliminal messages or something, a hidden metaphor, a conf—" He stops himself. "Just. Was this for some kind of an occasion?"

"I just thought you'd like it," Jungwon mumbles. Something breaks in Jongseong's eyes at that, and Jungwon doesn't know what he has to do to fix it. He doesn't even know what's wrong. "But I can tell it doesn't fit well, so I can remake it—"

Jongseong sighs, clapping a hand on Jungwon's shoulder. "It's fine. I like it a lot, Jungwon, thank you." He takes the beanie off, "I think I'm going to take a nap now, 'kay?" He leaves before Jungwon can protest, and now it's just Jungwon and Sunoo.

Sunoo gives him a look that Jungwon can't read this time. "Did I say something wrong?" Jungwon asks.

Sunoo sighs. "I think it's more about something you're not saying."

Jungwon mulls over his words as he looks at Jongseong's closed door. Today's a Monday, and they were supposed to go out together like they usually do. Their unnamed outings for their unnamed relationship.

Jungwon knows what he has to do. He just doesn't know if he can do it.

Jungwon's not given much of a choice. He should have known that Sunoo and Riki talking again only meant trouble.

They stage a fucking intervention.

At least they don't shove him and Jongseong into a supply closet together.

Jungwon's drying his hair with a towel when Riki decides to crowd him at the bathroom door.

"Jungwon-hyung, this is an intervention."

Jungwon gives him a blank look. "Sunoo-hyung's already been on my ass for how long I shower, yeah, yeah, I know—"

"No, what? It's not that," Riki says. "Though, you could sing a bit quieter—

Jungwon whacks Riki's head with his towel, ignoring his squawk. "What are you intervening with, then?"

Riki sighs. "Hyung, you—" He bites his lip. "You can't let your past lives dictate how you live now."

Jungwon wasn't prepared for this. "I'm not," he lies. "I'm not at all. Why would you think that?"

"Because I see you let them every time you look at Jay-hyung."

"What do you mean?" Jungwon doesn't look him in the eyes.

"He was in one of your past lives, wasn't he?"

Jungwon wants to slam the door shut. "Since when were you this observant?"

"It's not that I'm super observant," Riki shakes his head, crossing his arms. "It's that you're easy to read when you look at him."

"And how do I look at him?" Jungwon looks at himself in the mirror, and the words You're in love with Park Jongseong are still plastered on his forehead, even after all these years.

"You like him, that's obvious enough. But—you look at him like you expect him to disappear. You don't look at the rest of us like that."

Jungwon laughs, and it sounds so, so ugly. He grips the sides of the sink as he admits, "He wasn't in just one life, Ni-ki-yah."

"Oh." Riki didn't expect this.

"Yeah," Jungwon looks away.

"More than two? Five?" Riki prods. "Ten?"

Jungwon heaves out a breath. There's no one else he can tell this to, anyway, so he reveals to Riki, "Since the first life I can remember."

"Wow," Riki breathes out, resting his back against the door frame. He lets the fact rest in the air for a moment. "It almost makes you guys sound like soulmates."

Jungwon sucks in a breath. "Please don't say that."

"We remember our past lives, hyung. It's not that crazy of an idea." Riki tilts his head. "You never know."

"You think those exist?"

"If you want them to, sure," Riki shrugs. "When I look at you and Jay-hyung—I can believe it." He looks at Jungwon. "Could you believe it?"

Jungwon looks back at Riki. "He's died because of me before," he opts to answer. His hands are still soaked with blood. He hopes Riki understands.

"Oh, hyung," Riki pulls him into a hug. He does.

"Hyung, you're not who you were in those lives—you don't live them anymore." Riki holds Jungwon's hands in his, and he starts wiping the blood away. "You have to live this life, hyung. You have to."

"Am I not living it?"

"You are, but you're holding yourself back. Some ghosts need to be put to rest, and the memories you have—those aren't choices you yourself made, not in this life," Riki murmurs, "Now it's time to figure out what you choose to do in this life, hyung." If Jungwon weren't so close to him, he probably would've missed Riki's even quieter, "Who you choose, too."

Riki tucks Jungwon's head under his chin, and Jungwon doesn't know when he'd gotten this tall. Jungwon misses when Riki was still shorter than him.

Just another thing he misses from the past.

Jungwon takes a deep breath, and he starts trying to bid his ghosts goodbye.

Jongseong's not a ghost anymore. He's always been right here in the present.

"Jungwonie, this is an intervention."

Jungwon looks up from his phone. It's just them in the practice room, and they were going over some choreography points in their spare time in between lessons. Only now Sunoo's menacingly standing over him, caging Jungwon's body in between his legs.

"You too, hyung?"

"Me too—did Ni-ki already go first? I told him that I wanted to start—"

"Hyung." Jungwon could easily move Sunoo and leave, but he's getting tired of running away from this.

"Fine, whatever." Sunoo crosses his arms. "Jay-hyung." He doesn't elaborate, and Jungwon doesn't ask him to.

Jungwon shuts off his phone. "What is there to say, hyung?" he asks wearily.

"You do want something more with him, right?" Sunoo hums as he sits down next to Jungwon.

"What makes you think that?" Jungwon asks just to be difficult.

Sunoo looks him in the eye. "Because he's the reason you wanted to kiss me."

Jungwon's jaw drops open. They'd promised to not talk about this. "Hyung—"

"Kissing lessons so you'd be ready if he ever decided to kiss you. Or if you decided to kiss him," Sunoo traces his fingers along Jungwon's hand, and Jungwon shivers at the touch. "I'm honestly a little miffed you guys haven't kissed yet. Was I not good enough? Or was I just too good?" Sunoo teases, "Did I steal you from Jay-hyung?"

Back last year, amidst the stress of room changes and comeback stages and countless interviews to catch up on, Jungwon had asked Sunoo to teach him how to kiss. It was just a one time thing, really, if you didn't count the few extra pecks snuck in between practices, whenever they shared a car, right before they went to sleep. And maybe just one make out session.

That's besides the point.

"No, you didn't. And—and how do you know Jay-hyung and I haven't kissed?" Jungwon deflects.

"Because Jay-hyung would be actively glowing right now if you guys did anything more than hold hands—if you guys were anything more than people who just held hands."

That stuns Jungwon silent for a moment.

"I know you want something more with him, Won, so when are you going to tell him? Or kiss him? Or both?"

Jungwon petulantly puffs his cheeks, as he looks away, "Why does it have to be me who confesses?"

Sunoo fixes him a look that could pierce through skin, and Jungwon hates it when Sunoo looks at him like that. It's a scary feeling, the way that someone can know him so well. "Have you ever heard that man talk to you? He sprinkles in a 'I love you, Jungwon,' into a conversation whenever he can. Sometimes he does it when you're not even in the goddamn room. He confesses to you all of the time." Sunoo almost sounds like he's pleading. "You're his first choice for everything. You know exactly what he thinks of you, but—"

"He's my first choice for everything, too," Jungwon cuts him off.

I confess to him all the time too, he thinks. I hold his hand, and that's a confession. I look at him when he isn't looking, and that's a confession. I'm the first person he sees when he wakes up, and that's a confession.

Sunoo's expression softens. "I know. But you don't tell him the way he tells you. Hyung—Jay-hyung needs words."

"And I don't give him enough words," Jungwon finishes his thought. It hollows him out.

"What are you so afraid of?" Sunoo finally intertwines their fingers, grounding him.

Jungwon sucks in a breath. He's afraid of many things, so many things, but he settles on one that would make the most sense.

"I feel like a dragon fruit."

"...What?"

"Dragon fruits are really pretty, right? And Jay-hyung—Jay-hyung thinks I'm pretty."

"You are pretty," Sunoo frowns. "You know you are. But I don't understand what this has to do with—"

Jungwon needs to say this before he sews his own lungs shut. "Dragon fruits are such a pretty color on the outside. And when you open them up, they're even prettier. They have that white fruit inside and all those little black seeds. So many little black seeds. They're pretty," Jungwon sighs out. "They're so pretty. But—but so many people are disappointed when they eat dragon fruit for the first time. They have a mild flavor, just barely sweet. It looks prettier than it tastes, they say. It's not worth what you pay for."

"Hyung," Jungwon looks at Sunoo and hopes he understands the fear in his eyes. "Hyung. I feel like a dragon fruit. Jay-hyung thinks I'm pretty, and that scares me. Because I'm a dragon fruit."

Sunoo looks at him, not with understanding, but with sadness. "Jungwonie, you know that's not true at all. You're not a-a—"

"A dragon fruit."

"Right," Sunoo nods. "A dragon fruit. Lots of people like dragon fruit, you know. Because of their mild flavor."

"I know, just—sometimes," Jungwon closes his eyes. "Sometimes I feel like I'm split apart into all those little black seeds. And if—when Jay-hyung peels back the skin, all he'll find are one hundred different pieces of me." Mild and broken. Decidedly not whole, and definitely not enough.

Sunoo's silent before giggling a little, and Jungwon looks at him affronted. "Sorry, sorry," Sunoo shakes his head. "You just sound so emo right now."

"I'm airing my heart out to you and you're laughing," Jungwon fake whines, getting up. "You're a terrible friend."

Sunoo grabs his arm and pulls him back down. "I'm a wonderful friend," he smiles before turning serious again. "How long have you felt like this?"

Jungwon snorts, "When have I not?"

Sunoo holds his hands, voice somber as he says, "I don't know everything that goes on in your head. No one does. And no one ever will but, you can't just decide how he'll feel about—" Sunoo waves his hands into vague gestures, pulling Jungwon's arms along with him "—the one hundred different pieces of you. Maybe there's something pleasantly surprising in one of those pieces. You know he likes surprises."

"But what if he doesn't like mine? What if it's not pleasantly surprising?"

"You haven't even given him a chance, Jungwon. That's not fair."

"Wouldn't it be better this way? That he never gets a chance to be disappointed?"

"You're not even giving him a chance to tell you if he likes dragon fruits or not. Maybe you're a mango. Or a peach. Or maybe he just likes dragon fruits. Jungwon, look at me." Sunoo grips Jungwon's face, squishing his cheeks. "You have to give him a chance to tell you if he likes dragon fruits or not."

"What if I don't want to know?" Jungwon pulls Sunoo's hands off his face. "What's wrong with the way we are now? I like what we have."

"Does Jay-hyung?"

Jungwon freezes. "What?"

"Does Jay-hyung."

"Has he been unhappy with what we have?"

"Jungwon. That's what you should be asking him."

"Jay-hyung and I have always just understood each other," Jungwon mumbles. "I never—"

"Just understanding each other isn't enough. Without words for what you guys are, Jay-hyung will just circle the 'what ifs' inside his head until the doubts take over." Sunoo sighs, "You should talk to him before the doubts take over."

All the air leaves Jungwon's lungs at that. Sunoo breathes for him, but that's all he can do. It's all up to Jungwon, now.

In this dream, Jungwon is in love.

He's sitting in an adobe-style home. His bones weigh heavy and his hands are wrinkled, and sitting across the dinner table from him is Jongseong, his bones equally as heavy and his hands equally as wrinkled. A small, old electric fan whirs as they eat their bowls of pozole rojo.

"Will you miss me while I'm gone?" Jungwon asks. He's about to go on a trip to visit family, and though Jungwon knows the answer, it seems that he enjoyed teasing Jongseong like this in this life. Not much has changed.

Jongseong looks at him with so much love in his eyes, crow's feet beautifully framing them and freckles decorating his skin. Truly, not much has changed. "I'm always missing you," he answers, clasping their hands together. "In fact, I miss you right now."

Jungwon smiles, the dying sun casting Jongseong in a golden glow.

"I miss you too," he replies. The words send ripples through time and space.

When Jungwon wakes up, he stares at the bottom of the wooden bunk for a long time, silently mulling the words I miss you too in his head. In its own way, it sounds like a promise. That this ache to meet again is mutual, and that you will carry your love for this person with you in the meantime.

Jungwon's tired of missing Jongseong.

Tired of pretending that he doesn't care about Jongseong as much as he does, tired of pretending that Jongseong isn't as in love with Jungwon as much as he is.

Tired of pretending Jungwon isn't as in love with Jongseong as much as he is.

The love's long overfilled Jungwon's body, desperately pressing against every worn muscle and broken bone trying to get out.

A tragedy with you could be beautiful, Jungwon finally thinks.

Love is a terrifying force, but Jongseong makes him want to be brave. Maybe love isn't so terrifying if it was with Jongseong.

His only exception.

It's a Sunday night, him and Sunoo having finished wrapping up their radio show earlier than usual. Sunoo stayed behind to film some extra video content so, when Jungwon steps into the dorm alone, Jongseong peeks out into the hallway in surprise.

"You're back early!" he yells out. He's wearing an apron Jungwon got him months ago, and the kitchen vent's on.

"Yeah, the staff cleaned up quick today," Jungwon tugs his shoes off and hangs up his coat.

"Where's Sunoo?"

"Still filming."

"Ah, how unlucky for him."

Jungwon giggles as he steps into the kitchen, mouth already watering as he sniffs the air. "Is that—"

"Soondubu jjigae," Jongseong nods. "Haven't had a chance to cook in a while and my mom dropped off some fresh ingredients earlier."

Jungwon perks up. "Your mom came over?" Jongseong's standing at the stove, and Jungwon cautiously rests his chest against his back, easily placing his chin onto Jongseong's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jongseong nods, gently nudging Jungwon further away from the stove. "Hah—she told me to say hello to everyone, but she only asked me how you were doing specifically." He brings a free hand up to poke Jungwon's forehead. "You're everyone's favorite, you know."

Jungwon grabs Jongseong's hand away from his face in fake annoyance, squeezing it once before letting it go.

"Am I your favorite?" Jungwon gives him a cheshire grin.

Jongseong huffs out a laugh. "Am I yours?"

"Yeah," Jungwon looks away as he plays with the tassels of Jongseong's apron.

"Oh." Jongseong jerks, and then soup flies out onto the stovetop and sizzles away. "You should go—go shower. Dinner will be done once you're out."

Jungwon unlatches from Jongseong's back and smiles quietly to himself as he patters towards the bathroom. Maybe today will be the day.

Jongseong's set the table by the time Jungwon's out of the shower, skin soft, hair damp and body drowned in large and comfortable pajamas. It's just the two of them; Jake's already asleep, Heeseung and Sunghoon are still at the company practicing, and Riki's gone out with a manager to buy clothes.

Jongseong hands Jungwon a bowl of rice once he sits down. There are three ttukbaegis with the jjigae, one of which Jongseong sets off to the side. "For Sunoo," he tells Jungwon.

They begin to eat, digging their spoons into the tofu and mixing the soup with the rice. Only, about a few minutes in, Jongseong jolts up and heads towards the fridge.

"There's always something I forget whenever I cook," Jongseong grumbles before he heads back to the table with an egg in hand. "We only had one left," he explains.

He taps it against the side of the ttukbaegi and cracks it into Jungwon's jjigae. "Here you go."

Jungwon watches at Jongseong delicately scoops spoonfuls of soup to sufficiently cover the egg, allowing it to cook under the heat. His heart's going to burst out of his body.

"You don't want it, hyung?"

Jongseong blinks up at him like the thought didn't even cross his mind. "Nah, we only had one," he repeats. "Want you to have it."

Jungwon sets his spoon down. "I like you, hyung." I love you.

An easy grin spreads across Jongseong's face as he takes another bite. "I like you too."

"No, I—" Jungwon reaches over the table to gently grasp Jongseong's face and turn it towards him "—I like you, Jongseong-hyung." I have loved you for a long time.

Jongseong's brows furrow and his lips fall open as a look of understanding crosses his face. "I—what? No, you—" his tongue stumbles over a million responses, and he settles for, "Don't say things you don't mean."

Jungwon sucks in a harsh breath. He tries to temper the waver in his voice when he asks, "How could you think I didn't mean that?"

"Because—" He looks at Jungwon like he just kicked a puppy. Now Jongseong's the one putting his spoon down. He doesn't continue his reasoning.

Instead, he asks, "You like me?" His voice cracks. He sounds heartbroken.

"I do." Jungwon sounds like his heart's about to be broken.

Jongseong gets up. "Sorry, I'm sorry—that's not—that's not my answer but," Jongseong combs a hand through his hair. Even now, he looks devastatingly great. "I—I need to take a walk."

Jongseong speedwalks to the door and stumbles as he quickly slips on some shoes and a jacket. Jungwon closes his eyes when he hears the door click shut.

Maybe Jungwon should have stopped him, pulled him back so they could talk it through, but Jongseong deserves a chance to run away for once. That's all Jungwon's ever done, anyway.

He picks his spoon back up and pokes at his jjigae. The egg's overcooked by now, too solid for Jungwon's taste. And, despite how hungry he was when he came home, he doesn't think he can stomach any food right now. He looks at the ttukbaegi across from him and realizes that Jongseong never even finished his food. He barely got through a third of it.

Maybe Jungwon should have stopped him. Fuck.

Sunoo comes home half an hour later and finds Jungwon still sitting there, right where Jongseong left him.

"I told him."

Sunoo's mouth falls open. "Oh."

"And he left."

"Oh—"

Sunoo sits onto the chair next to him and pulls Jungwon into a hug—he never does that—but Sunoo pulls Jungwon into a hug and lets him bleed all over his shoulder.

He can feel the rapid movement of Sunoo's arms around him, likely furiously texting Jongseong.

Jungwon runs his knuckles down Sunoo's spine. "Hyung," he breathes out softly. "Don't. Let him process it. He can always reject me later."

Sunoo frowns. "Jungwon—"

"Don't," Jungwon repeats.

So Sunoo doesn't, the sound of Sunoo backspacing filling in the silence Jongseong left. Instead, Sunoo says, "I'm proud of you for telling him. He deserves to know that he's loved." The by you goes unsaid.

"He does," Jungwon sniffles, blinking rapidly. Maybe Jungwon can be the collateral damage in all of this if it meant that Jongseong knew he was loved.

"He left you some soondubu jjigae, by the way, hyung," Jungwon whispers. "You should go eat. You must be hungry."

Sunoo soothes his hands down Jungwon's back, and he just hugs him harder.

Riki comes home soon after and, without a word, without asking a single question, he joins Jungwon and Sunoo in their little heap, his long arms wrapping tight around the both of them.

Jungwon giggles tiredly, "What are you doing?"

"'M hugging you guys." Plain and simple.

"You don't even know what happened," Sunoo grumbles.

"Do I have to?" Riki looks at Jungwon.

Jungwon snuggles up closer to him. "No."

Riki gives Sunoo a triumphant look, and Sunoo rolls his eyes.

If anything, Jungwon's not nervous because Jongseong left, but because he knows Jongseong will come back. He always does.

Jongseong returns to the dorm late into the night. Jungwon can feel a tug on his pinky before he even hears the jingle of keys at the front door.

Jungwon's sitting on the living room couch already waiting for him. Jungwon's legs are tucked under a weighted blanket, and his hands are tucked under his thighs, and his heart is tucked under their polished Gangnam floor tiles. It's beating so loud he's sure Jongseong can hear it, too.

When Jungwon peeks his head out into the hallway, he sees Jongseong holding a bag of—a carton of eggs, and he watches him put it in the fridge. God, I love you so much.

Jungwon knows that Jongseong knows that Jungwon's waiting for him, but Jongseong doesn't immediately head towards him. Jongseong opts to take a shower first, which kind of hurts, but Jongseong also deserves to be clean, so Jungwon continues waiting. It crosses Jungwon's mind that Jongseong might just be ignoring him entirely, but the sound of running water stops quickly enough that Jungwon figures they're having this talk tonight.

Jongseong steps out into the hallway, cast in warm glow of the lamp Jungwon's left on as he stands at the living room entrance. He doesn't make a move to take a step in.

"I've missed you."

Jungwon's traitorous fucking mouth.

"God—sorry," Jungwon pleads. "I didn't mean to—well, no, I meant it, it's our thing, but—" Jungwon stops himself once he sees Jongseong's face.

Jongseong's looking at him with a completely blank expression, utterly devoid of emotion. That is not Jongseong. Jungwon can't read what Jongseong's feeling at all—whether he's angry or sad or disappointed—and that scares Jungwon.

What scares Jungwon even more, though, is Jongseong's silence. He didn't say it back, Jungwon panickedly thinks. He didn't say it back, he's supposed to say it back. Jungwon really fucked up, didn't he? Maybe he's finally run out of luck, wrung Jongseong dry of his love.

Jongseong doesn't let him continue that line of thought. He sighs before fully stepping into the light. He takes a seat next to Jungwon on the couch, but he keeps a deliberate distance between them. "I've missed you too," he says. Despite how exhausted he sounds, the words are still dipped in honey, still undeniably the truth.

Maybe it's selfish of Jungwon to need those words as much as he does, but relief floods through him when he hears them. No matter what, if Jongseong can say those words back, then they're okay.

They're Jungwon-and-Jongseong. They'll be okay no matter what.

"Are you hungry?" Jungwon asks. "You left before you finished eating."

"'M good," Jongseong shakes his head. "You?"

"I'm not hungry," Jungwon answers. He runs his hands across his weighted blanket. He leaves his palm up, an invitation.

Neither of them breach the silence for a moment.

"About what I said earlier, hyung," Jungwon steels himself to sit up straight and look Jongseong in the eye, "You don't have to accept my feelings, but I wanted you to know. I like you, I do."

"I always thought you were just quietly letting me down all the time," Jongseong admits. He doesn't meet Jungwon's gaze. "I figured you never full-on rejected me to preserve team morale, or something." The tension finally leaves his body, and he slumps tiredly against the couch. "Jungwon-ah. I've liked you for so long. And I never—at some point, I stopped considering the possibility that you'd like me back."

Jungwon's face crumples. "Hyung," he croaks out, "I've liked you for a long time, too." I have loved you for longer than you could possibly know.

"It's kind of hard to believe, honestly." Jongseong still doesn't look at him as he lets out a self-deprecating laugh. "Sometimes, it's hard to tell what you're thinking at all."

Jungwon flinches. It's because I don't have enough words for you. I don't think I'll ever have enough words to let you know how much I care about you.

How much I love you.

But he's never even tried, has he? Maybe, if he tries, his chest won't feel so full. Maybe, if he tries, he can start loving Jongseong the way he deserves to be loved.

"There's a lot I like about you, hyung," Jungwon begins. "Love, really. There's a lot I love about you."

Jongseong makes a pained noise as he finally looks back at him. Jungwon closes his eyes.

"When you talk, your words sound like they're coated in honey, dipped in sugar. You talk like there's something sweet stuck in between your teeth, and I love that about you." That's a start. Jungwon takes a shuddering breath. "You always think about others even when you're not actively thinking about them. You love people like it's your second nature, like you were born to love, and I love that about you. I love the way you love. You never ask for compliments, but you really, really enjoy the attention you get when we compliment you. You bask in it like it's sunlight, and you smile like—like that old grandpa turtle from Kung Fu Panda—"

"...Master Oogway?"

"Yeah, yeah that was his name."

"You did not just compare me to Master Oogway—"

"Anyway, I love that about you. You don't hold grudges, did you know that? You think that you do, but you don't. You don't have a single resentful bone in your body, hyung. In fact, I think you're the most selfless person I know. You're so patient. Kind. Honest. Smart," Jungwon laughs. "It's kind of insane that one person can hold so much good in them, but you do, hyung. You do the impossible everyday."

Jungwon nervously plays with his fingers, and Jongseong wordlessly holds his hand. Jungwon smiles, "I like it when you hold my hand whenever I space out. I like it when you catch me whenever I'm clumsy, because I know you'd never let me fall. I like how you always come back to me."

Jungwon falters as he finally looks back at Jongseong, his eyes wide and jaw slack. "And—yeah. Those are some of the things I love about you. Out of a lot of things. Because I really, really like you, I've liked you for a long time, and—"

"I'm not selfless."

"What?" Jungwon tilts his head, blinking at him.

Jongseong tugs at Jungwon's fingers, runs over his knuckles. "I'm selfish when it comes to you. I want you to look at me all the time, haven't you noticed? Sometimes I make bad jokes just so you'll look at me and make fun of me."

"That just sounds like a poor excuse for your bad jokes—"

"Anyway, I like it when you look at me. I like it when you're around me. I like it when you're just. With me. When you talk with me, when you laugh with me. When we were on our tour in the States I pretty much rigged all of the random draws so we'd be together—"

"Oh my god, that makes so much sense now."

"Yeah, it does," Jongseong chuckles. He clasps their hands together and holds on tight. "All I ever want to do is be selfish with you."

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to tell you," Jungwon says, his heart beating for the first time in several millennia. "So—so do you—"

Jongseong swoops down to kiss him. "All you ever had to do was tell me," he smiles.

They lie together on the couch for the rest of the night, though they can't get much sleep, the adrenaline of being loved back keeping them awake. In the middle of mouthing along Jungwon's jaw, Jongseong pauses.

"Wait. Am I your first kiss?"

"No," Jungwon kisses his nose. "Am I yours?"

Jongseong lets his nose be kissed. "No."

Jungwon pulls him in closer. "Then I'll just have to be your last."

Jongseong makes a happy noise against his mouth. He has no protest against that.

Even later into the night, right before they fall asleep, Jungwon whispers out, "Do you like dragon fruit, hyung?" Just to be sure.

"Hm?" Jongseong mumbles against his chest. "Oh, yeah, I like them a lot."

"Oh." Sugar runs through Jungwon's veins. "I thought you liked sweeter fruits more."

"Yeah, and I like dragon fruit too. I carry multitudes..." he trails off.

Jungwon runs a hand down his back, soothing him to sleep. "You do. You really do."

Jungwon prepares a whole speech for management when they inevitably find him and Jongseong out, but he never gets to use it, because they never find them out.

No one bats a goddamn eye when they look at him and Jongseong. No one notices anything different. Not their managers, not the staff, not the other members. The only indication that anyone's noticed something's changed is when everyone began complimenting Jongseong's new skincare routine because You look like you're literally glowing.

That's the power of Yang Jungwon's kisses. Jungwon makes a note to kiss him more.

Mondays are—Mondays are their designated date days now. Jungwon feels like hopping at the thought itself. They eventually tell the others, and they get a variety of finallys and waggling eyebrows and, most glaringly, an already prepared speech about limiting their PDA to three times a day because There's only so much we can handle when it's you guys.

Jungwon and Jongseong make do. Their practice rooms have a lot of closets.

It feels like everything has changed, except none of it has. If anything, it feels like everything's finally slipped into place.

After they come home from an award show, Heeseung and Jake sneak some alcohol back into the dorm for their belated New Years celebration. Jake looks at Jungwon with apprehension when he catches them, but Heeseung shoves a bottle of soju into Jungwon's hands.

"But hyung, I'm not ninet—"

"You are for the night," Heeseung grins. It's vaguely threatening, so Jungwon agrees.

He and Jongseong are slow dancing to Jongseong's playlist in the corner of the living room. Not really dancing, actually, more like swaying in each other's arms, but Jungwon enjoys it either way.

Jungwon doesn't know whether he's drunk or tipsy when he slurs out, "I love you."

This is not the first time he's ever told Jongseong I love you, but there's a prickle of shame in the back of his mind anyway, that he can only say the words so easily when he's drunk.

Jongseong doesn't seem to mind. "I love you, too," he smiles, leaning forward to kiss Jungwon, but he misses and clumsily kisses his nose instead. Cute.

"Cute."

Oh. Jungwon said that out loud.

Jongseong's smile only widens on his face as he decides that kisses are too difficult right now, settling instead to press his forehead against Jungwon's.

Jungwon presses back, basking in the warmth of Jongseong's skin before processing what the other said.

"No, like, I love you," Jungwon reiterates. This scenario feels oddly familiar. "I love you," he says again. He just doesn't think Jongseong will ever understand how large this feeling is—it's so true it runs through his veins, keeps his heart beating.

He holds Jongseong's face in his hands when he says, "I loved you before I even knew you."

Jongseong stares at him wide-eyed, a lovely flush warming his skin as he blinks at Jungwon, once, then twice before he starts sniffling.

"Oh, oh hyung," Jungwon swipes under Jongseong's eyes. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"'M not sad, I'm not sad."

Jungwon kisses his forehead. "That's good."

"I just can't believe you love me the way I love you, sometimes," Jongseong presses a kiss to Jungwon's collarbone. "I love it when you love me."

Jungwon wonders whether Jongseong can feel his heartbeat. "I love it when you love me too," he whispers.

When Jungwon enters the living room the next morning, hair ruffled and just the slightest bit hungover, he finds Sunoo and Riki giggling as they show Jongseong something on Sunoo's phone.

Jongseong's cheeks are red, and he looks shell-shocked. "Sunoo, you—you got Ni-Ki to photoshop this for you, right?" He flips to look back and forth between them. "Right?"

Riki snorts as he checks out his nails. "I'd charge extra if Sunoo-hyung ever commissioned me for a photoshop job."

Sunoo's eyebrow twitches. "And I'd never commission him because he'd wring me dry. So no, hyung." His mouth splits open into a menacing grin. "It's very, very real."

"What's real?" Jungwon decides to make his presence known.

Jongseong turns and practically runs up to grab both of Jungwon's hands. Jungwon swears there's stars shining in his eyes when he says, "I love you, Yang Jungwon." He looks ready to propose.

Jungwon swallows down the immediate I love you too that bubbles in his throat. "Hyung, it's like, 10 am."

"Yeah, and I love you." He slumps down to envelop Jungwon in a hug, his face pressed against Jungwon's neck.

"What did you do to my boyfriend?" Jungwon asks Sunoo, relishing in the squeal Jongseong lets out against his skin at the word.

"Oh, I was just showing him—" Sunoo shows Jungwon his phone, "—this."

It's a picture of Jungwon with his phone in his hands, passed out from their party last night. On its own sounds innocuous, if just a little embarrassing, but on his phone is a zoomed in photo of Jongseong.

Jungwon had been staring at a zoomed in photo of Jongseong from his top secret Jongseong photo album before passing out last night.

Oh god. They know about his top secret Jongseong photo album.

"Oh my god," Jungwon goes to wrestle the phone out of Sunoo's hands, but Sunoo's fast in putting his phone away. "Delete that! Delete that right now!"

"Even if I do, it's already saved on a cloud drive somewhere, Jungwon," Sunoo smirks. "Immortalized."

"I'll scrub all of your accounts," Jungwon seethes, ready to pounce.

"No, you won't," Jongseong reboots back into his body, his arms going to circle around Jungwon's waist to hold him back. "He won't." His voice lowers down to whisper to Sunoo, ignoring the fact that Jungwon's literally right here, "Send me the picture later."

Jungwon gasps. "Hyung—"

Jongseong drags him out into the hallway before he can brawl with Sunoo and begins peppering kisses onto his sleep-swollen cheeks.

"You're so cute," Jongseong says in between pecks. "God, I love you, I love you, I—"

"Let go of me, hyung," Jungwon struggles against his hold. "I need him to delete that photo—"

"'M never letting you go," Jongseong nuzzles his cheek into his hair. "Because I love you, I love you, I love you—"

The words fight their way out. "I love you too, hyung, now just let me—"

Jongseong immediately lets him go. "Have at him."

Sunoo's screech echoes throughout the whole complex.

When Jungwon thinks about it later, though, he realizes how much Jongseong truly loves it when Jungwon tells him he loves him. Jungwon's mouth seems physically opposed to saying those three words very often.

It's time for an intervention. This time, Jungwon is intervening on himself.

They're in the safe haven of Jongseong's bed. Jongseong's slowly braiding Jungwon's hair and, despite his inexperience, his hands are slow and methodical. His tongue sticks out as he concentrates, and Jungwon's in love with him. He loves him so much.

"Hyung," Jungwon opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He curls his fists and hides them in his sleeves before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry I don't tell you 'I love you' enough."

Jongseong makes a confused noise, letting go of the braid. "But you do."

"But I don't."

Jongseong is not a liar, so he does not lie. Instead of fighting him, he says, "You look at me, and I know you love me."

He doesn't get it. "Just looking isn't love, hyung."

"With you, it is."

Jungwon fixes him a flat look. "Hyung."

"Fine. By your standards, then, just saying three words isn't love either." Jongseong obnoxiously raises his eyebrows, jutting out his lips and stroking a beard he doesn't have. "What is love, anyway?"

They have a silent stare-off for about three seconds before Jongseong breaks out in a laugh. Jungwon rolls his eyes and collapses onto Jongseong's lap with a whine.

"Won," Jongseong says fondly. "You show me you love me all the time."

Jungwon pulls on his sleeves. "But I know you like hearing it, hyung."

Jongseong looks off to the side, embarrassment flushing his cheeks.

"Hey, hey, 's not embarrassing to like it, hyung. It's not embarrassing at all. I just—I don't know why but it's just." Jungwon's voice breaks off into a whisper. "It's hard for me to say it. Even though I think it all the time."

This time Jungwon's the one looking off in embarrassment.

"Aw, don't be embarrassed," Jongseong echoes. "I think it all the time too."

"Only difference is that you say it out loud so easily."

"Love isn't a contest, Jungwon."

"I know." Jungwon presses his hands against Jongseong's chest. "I just want you to hear it from me."Because you deserve to know. "Because you deserve to know."

"I want you to say them on your own terms, though, and it's fine if you're not ready—"

"These are on my own terms. I don't think it's—it's not about readiness. I'm just not sure how to let you know when I can't seem to say it out loud. Because I mean it, I do."

Jongseong cards a hand through Jungwon's hair, and Jungwon closes his eyes at the feeling.

"Hey, how about this?" Jongseong smoothes his thumb across Jungwon's cheekbone before going to grab Jungwon's hand. "Every time you think 'I love you' but can't say it, just squeeze my hand three times. Three times will mean 'I love you,' okay?"

To make his point, Jongseong squeezes his hand three times.

I love you.

Jungwon looks down at their hands in awe. He squeezes three times back.

I love you too.

He squeezes Jongseong's hand three times again. Then again. And again, and again, and again. Maybe it's always been that simple.

Jongseong preens, and Jungwon is in love. God, he's so in love.

They slowly phase out the I've missed yous because Jungwon doesn't miss Jongseong anymore. He just loves him. And, with this new system in place, Jungwon suddenly finds himself saying I love you all the time.

In the mornings, Jungwon grabs Jongseong's hand and squeezes it three times as a greeting. I love you. When Jongseong orders him food even though Jungwon didn't want anything, Jungwon taps his foot with his own three times. I love you. When Jungwon's video calling Jongseong, each visiting their own families during the allotted vacation time, Jungwon sends three flying kisses to the camera. I love you.

The actions come so easily to Jungwon, more easily than any words could ever leave his mouth.

Three taps to the wrist. I love you.

Three nudges against the shoulder. I love you.

Three kisses along the collarbone. Down the chest. Against the thigh. I love you, I love you, I love you.

"You love me a lot, don't you?" Jongseong teases.

"I do," Jungwon grins. "I really do."

"That's good, because I love you a lot too."

One morning, Jongseong wakes Jungwon up with starlight in his eyes and love in his fingertips, smothering Jungwon in kisses. Apparently, Jungwon did the three taps even in his sleep.

Love on instinct. Loving Jongseong has always come to him the easiest.

In this dream, Jongseong's head is safely tucked under Jungwon's chin.

Jungwon doesn't enjoy most of his dreams, but he decides he likes this one.

They're at Jeju Island again to film a beach episode of EN-O'CLOCK. Jongseong builds a sandcastle every time they get a chance to visit a beach, and today is no different. During their break, they'd built another one together, covering it in as much sea-loved decor as they could.

It crumbled down in the end, anyway. They always do. Sometimes they see it happen, and sometimes they don't.

Jongseong pouts nevertheless. "We put so much effort into building them, I wish they'd just last forever."

"They never will," Jungwon immediately answers, because it's the truth. When Jongseong frowns, Jungwon gently grabs Jongseong's hand and laces their fingers together. "So it just means we keep building them. Our next one will be even bigger and better," he promises.

Because few things can withstand eternity. Not sandcastles, not cities, not souls.

The only thing that persists through time is love.

Right now, Jungwon is holding love personified in his arms. They've finished filming for the day, and they're lying down together on a beach towel as they wait for the staff to finish packing up. The summer curls around them and the cool breeze promises to keep them safe. The sun blinds Jungwon as it dies, and he holds his hand up to block the light from his eyes.

Then, he just sees the most peculiar thing.

For a single moment, his hand is covered in a tangled mess of delicate threads, like strings of honey laced around his fingers. In the light, the strands glint between red and gold, as if refusing to be seen for what they are. The only one Jungwon can properly make out is the thickest thread, the one wrapped around his pinky.

Jungwon doesn't look at Jongseong's hand to confirm whether or not their threads lead to each other. He already has his answer.

The clouds obscure the sun, and the threads disappear. This is the prettiest dream Jungwon's ever had.

Jungwon noses Jongseong's forehead, and Jongseong rouses awake. "'S it time to go?"

"Not yet," Jungwon reassures him.

"Good," Jongseong mumbles. "Don't wanna leave yet."

"Me neither." Jungwon looks down at his hand and, when he moves it, he feels the faintest tug. "Hyung."

"Mm?"

"Do you think love can last more than one lifetime?"

Jongseong easily answers, "I don't see why not."

As if he knew just the answer Jungwon was looking for.

Jongseong reaches over to squeeze Jungwon's hand three times. He rubs over Jungwon's hip three times. He taps his fingers against Jungwon's back three times.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Jungwon squeezes Jongseong's hand three times in return. He brushes his thumb over Jongseong's jaw three times. He kisses Jongseong—once on his birthmark, a second on his cheek, and a third on his lips.

I love you too, I love you too, I love you too.

Authors Notes:

in the wise words of carly rae jepsen: before you came into my life, i missed you so bad. amen

hahah man, i just love them a lot. jaywon soulmates <3

[july 2022 note: when i wrote this i thought that sunwon would be djs for a year, not 4 months LOL so. fyi the egg scene was set in like nov/dec 2022]

thank you so much for reading ♥♥♥

chat with me! twt retrospring