Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They were in that tentative stage between floating ideas and full-blown album preparation, meaning that there were no official plans for a release but that didn’t stop them from being holed up in their studios. Their last album dropped months ago and festival season was slowing; getting ahead now was the most efficient option before the next wave of schedules overwhelmed them. They could’ve taken a break but you would have to drag Giuk tooth and nail out of his studio just to see the sunlight.

Hyungu used to have no time to read. The more books he received from fans, the more desperate he was to disappear into a corner with a huge stack of them. The lapse in schedules meant he could finally start again. Considering how fast he read, he could get through a considerable portion of the stack before official comeback preparation came.

The weight of a book in his hands brought more comfort than he would admit. Sunken into the couch with the remnants of his late dinner still on the coffee table, he felt at ease. Dongmyeong was already sleeping, Giuk and Yonghoon were still in their studio, Harin was at the gym—there was absolutely no noise in the dorm besides the rustling of pages.

Or there used to be.

The tick of the front door unlocking rang through the living room and he looked up to see who would be walking through. The breath hitched in his chest when a familiar mop of dark hair appeared.

Yonghoon stuck his head into the room and carefully scanned it. Strands of hair stuck up on the top of his head, probably from his headphones in his hands. “Dongmyeong? Oh, you’re not Dongmyeong. You’re home already?”

“Well, don’t sound too disappointed,” Hyungu said, voice rough from disuse. “He’s asleep.”

Yonghoon lowered his voice. “You’re back early, it’s only like 1:30 in the morning. I thought you were still at the company.” He entered the dorm completely and kicked off his sneakers, opting for a pair of pink house slippers.

“I could say the same for you. I thought I would have more peaceful time to read.”

“I’ll try not to bother you to the best of my ability,” Yonghoon mused, the sarcasm clear in his tone. He headed down the hall and into their shared room, out of sight and out of mind (mostly).

Hyungu went back to his book but now he was so much more aware of the other presence in the dorm. Words swam across his mind but he still heard the slam of drawers and rustling of movement from the other room. He shook his head and focused on the words on the page. At least Yonghoon trying to be conscious of their sleeping bandmate meant that the noise would be kept to a minimum.

The book had been gifted to him by one of his fansites. The note that came with the book went something along the lines of “I think you would like this because the author shares the same sentiments as you.” Based on the blurb alone, he could tell that the fansite was completely right and wondered if he was sharing too much on Fromm.

He let himself fall completely into the book and before he knew it, he was already halfway through it and Yonghoon’s light steps were pattering behind him.

“What are you reading?” Yonghoon asked, putting his hands by Hyungu’s shoulders on the back of the couch and leaning against them.

“A book about fate versus choice. It’s pretty interesting but I’m starting to think I need to be a lot more awake to read it.” Hyungu could smell the scent of their shared body wash and felt drops of water fall onto his head. “Back off before you get water on it. Why didn’t you dry your hair properly?”

The smell of body wash became distant then the sound of cups clattering came from the kitchen. “I was gonna get water but got distracted. Plus, I feel like we haven’t talked all day.”

“Didn’t we talk the entire way to the company?”

Suddenly, Yonghoon placed a cup of water on the table in front of him and took his usual spot on the couch: right against Hyungu. “Yeah and then we didn’t speak for the rest of the day.”

Hyungu scooted away. “Your hair still isn’t dry! You literally have a towel on your shoulder. Do something about it.”

Yonghoon playfully glared at him as he dried his hair but he didn’t say anything. There was never any real malice behind the looks he sent in Hyungu’s direction and both of them were aware of it. Maybe too aware of it. Too aware that the underlying feelings of the looks between them were anything but malicious.

But when the fake glare softened just a bit, Hyungu looked back down at the book in his lap. The words swam the same way they did earlier but now it felt impossible to try to read again—the damp warmth of Yonghoon pressed against him consumed him.

He made the mistake of glancing up at Yonghoon’s face and the glare was completely gone, replaced with something so fond that it scared him. How could he look at me like that when he knows what it does to me?

Perhaps it was the post-shower flush that spread across his face or his bare skin that boasted freckles like stars. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers across Yonghoon’s face and connect all the possible constellations. The patterns in his freckles taunted him because how could they be in his proximity all the time and so out of reach?

How could he explain the urge to feel every freckle without sounding like a crazed maniac? You can’t just ask your bandmate if you can sit them down and trace patterns onto their skin until they’ve memorized the way your fingertips feel grazing across their face.

But he was broken out of his gaze when Yonghoon dropped the towel to his lap, his hair mostly dry and all over the place. “I’m bored. Can you tell me about the book?”

Hyungu cleared his throat, trying to get control of his thoughts again. “Uh, it’s about what it would mean if fate was real and how that would affect choice. Like, if you believe fate determines every decision we’ve ever made, does that mean we’ve never made a choice for ourselves?”

“Huh. I think I’ve made choices for myself.” At this point, Yonghoon turned to face him, folding his legs in front of him. “I’m in control of my own life, not some magical force of nature.”

“How do you know that that thought wasn’t predetermined either?”

“I don’t but that’s what I want to believe. I want to believe that everything I’ve done is a result of my own actions.”

Hyungu laughed. “That’s a little egocentric, isn’t it?”

“No? Well, yes, sort of but not in that way!” Yonghoon said. “I am technically the center of my own universe and the only experience I know to be true is my own.”

“You’re doubling down on the egocentrism.”

Yonghoon’s opened and then closed shut with a comically loud clack. “What do you think then, huh?”

What do I think?

Everyone knew him as a believer in fate; it must’ve been obvious enough if his fansites were sending him books about it. He has written countless songs—released and unreleased—about it because that question has lingered in his mind for years. He wanted fate to be real so desperately, like the stars had a plan for him. In some way, it was a continuation of his obsession with space but it was also comforting. It reassured him to think that whatever choices he made in the past were the best possible choices at the time.

The idea of fate protected him from regret. If he regretted anything, he wasn’t regretting the choices he made but what the stars planned for him. But he also didn’t like thinking that he was completely helpless in the hands of fate. If the stars wanted something tragic for him, then what?

“I don’t think my beliefs are as extreme as believing fate controls everything about me, but I do think that there are just some things that I’m destined for,” he mused.

Like falling in love with you. I am destined to fall in love with you regardless of the choices I make.

“Like becoming a part of ONEWE?” Yonghoon asked.

Oh, that too.

“Yes, exactly that.”

Yonghoon paused like he needed to collect his thoughts. “I don’t think I believe in fate in the same way you do but I like the idea of you being destined to meet me.”

Hyungu rolled his eyes. “Don’t forget the others.”

“Of course, but everything is about me, remember?”

“Sure, hyung.”

Love was such a finicky topic that none of them had a firm grasp on. The public eye didn’t exactly cultivate the best environment for it and every attempt from any of them didn’t last long. In terms of lyrics, Giuk probably got the closest but all of them have written love songs before. It wasn’t hard: they’ve all yearned before. They’ve all been in love before, romantic and platonic.

But coincidentally, none of the demos they pooled together for the new album were about love. Not that there needed to be but it was just odd; there were usually a few, depicting all kinds and different stages of love.

So, Hyungu decided to do something about it because he can. Writing lyrics with the intention of the song appearing in their very real next album was different than putting together compositions just to get them out of his head before he forgets them. Music flowed through his blood and exhaled out of him with every breath but the pressure of a set deadline hung over his head.

Gryffindor sat in his lap, the weight familiar against him and he could still hear the ticking of the metronome from a few minutes ago bouncing around his head—the melody he played was slow, sweet, and almost hauntingly empty.

He messed around with the chords with the intention of turning it into a love song and hated the way his mind immediately went to Yonghoon, to the way he would’ve started grinning ear to ear when he found out he was the inspiration behind another one of Hyungu’s songs.

“Everything is about me, remember?”

Eventually, he would have to face the “more than friends but less than lovers” nature that both of them had been ignoring for months. The push-pull couldn't go forever; how many almost-confessions did he sense from Yonghoon and consequently avoid? How many times did Yonghoon do the same?

But they both knew there was too much at risk and that was exactly why nothing happened. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why they never went farther than flirty glances and physical affection that fans could pass off as fan service. Even without the prying eyes of the public, they risked the entire group’s dynamic. And maybe they were fine with the way things were. If Hyungu could be in love for years, knowing it was reciprocated would be fine—not being able to do anything about it would be fine too. It was just like when he didn’t know it was reciprocated and couldn’t act on anything. Everything would be fine.

Enough of that.

He hummed the melody as he opened the Notepad application on his computer, ready to jot down anything that came to mind. If he heard the melody enough times, lyrics would eventually flow through him and onto the empty document. Writing about someone he loved couldn’t be that hard.

It proved to be the opposite—nothing was good enough. The past thirty minutes only resulted in a couple of meager lines that he couldn’t confidently present to the others. The next couple of hours would’ve gone the same way if there hadn’t been a knock at his studio door.

“Come in,” he called out, not bothering to turn around.

The door clicked open. “Hyungu-ah, do you mind if I just sit here while I work?”

His stupid heart fluttered a little bit when he registered whose voice it was. “Go ahead, Yonghoon-ssi.”

Yonghoon laughed. “Aw, that was tame. I always look forward to the ridiculous honorifics you call me.”

An attempt to slump into his chair was interrupted by the guitar digging into his chest. “I’m too tired to think of anything creative right now.”

Then it was silent again aside from the rustling of Yonghoon trying to get comfortable on the floor and the sounds of Hyungu typing, followed by the rapid tapping of the delete key.

Writing about his feelings for the person sitting right behind him made him feel self-conscious, like Yonghoon would be peaking over his shoulder at any moment. There was no way he wouldn’t notice if it did happen but still, writing about someone in the same room felt invasive and suddenly words were harder than before.

Explaining his feelings wasn’t the hard part either. He knew exactly how he felt. He was in love with his friend of eleven years and he knew that friend loved him back. The aforementioned friend didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to. Hyungu could see it in his eyes. He could see the way Yonghoon looked at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. There were other ways to tell but nothing said more than the way his eyes followed Hyungu. When their eyes met, Yonghoon was already looking.

One of the first times Hyungu caught him staring with more than platonic intent (the eyes gave it away), he called him out on it. Jokingly, of course. That was one of the only times he’d ever seen Yonghoon speechless. It seemed like he didn’t even know he was staring. He snapped out of it quickly but Hyungu still saw the way he faltered.

The reciprocation was undeniable. It had to be or else all the “undeniable” signs Hyungu saw were just a way for his brain to cope with loving someone for so long and not being able to do anything about it. But that didn’t explain everything Yonghoon did of his own free will.

“Hyungu, you believe in fate, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said. He turned his chair around and looked down at Yonghoon sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a notebook in his lap. “Didn’t we talk about this like a month ago?”

“Great, I need help writing a song.”

“About fate?” Hyungu put Gyffindor to the side, being careful to not place it down too hard. “I thought you didn’t believe in it.”

Yonghoon shrugged. “I don’t but we didn’t have a demo about love in the pool and I think it would be a good challenge.”

Hyungu couldn’t stop the slight look of surprise on his face. “Wow, hyung. I thought you would’ve defaulted to one of your soul-destroying ballads.”

Yonghoon frantically scanned his surroundings, presumably for something to throw but gave up and threw his notebook at Hyungu’s legs. “I have range! It’s just that there are only so many ballads about love we can release before people get tired of it!”

“I’m just joking! I know you have range,” Hyungu said. “And don’t throw stuff at me in my studio. Do you want help or not?”

The glare Yonghoon sent at him felt a little more real than the one he had the last time they talked about fate. “What do I even ask you?” He stared at Hyungu, who was more than happy to stare back. “Uh, do you think fate and love are related?”

When he asked Hyungu if he believed in fate a month ago, he answered with ease but his studio was infinitely more intimate than their living room—now he couldn’t get the words right. Not because he didn’t know the answer but because he didn’t know if he actually wanted to admit it. It felt too real in his little studio which made it feel like they were the only people in the world.

It would also reveal how he thought about love to the person he was in love with and it doesn’t help that that person knows how he feels. The first part was embarrassing enough.

But he truly thought he was fated to love Yonghoon. How could he not? All he had to do was look at Yonghoon. The freckles across Yonghoon’s face that he adored so much looked like a map of the stars that led Hyungu to him. If he memorized the placement of every freckle and mole on Yonghoon’s face, he could find him in every lifetime.

That’s so embarrassingly cheesy, shut up before—

He didn’t realize he was staring directly at Yonghoon until he waved his hand in Hyungu’s line of sight to get his attention. “Hyungu-ah?”

He cleared his throat and broke eye contact before he lost his mind. “Right, sorry. I’ve been awake for twenty-eight hours,” he muttered. He saw Yonghoon open his mouth to tell him off but waved him away. “Um, I think fate decides the big things in our lives and love probably falls under that category. Like what if there is someone that the universe made for you exactly and you are made for them in the same way?”

“Isn’t that just soulmates?” Yonghoon asked, eyebrows furrowed as he was probably thinking too hard about it.

“If that’s how you want to word it. What you call it doesn’t matter.”

“So you believe in soulmates?”

“I guess.”

Yonghoon wrinkled his nose but reached across the floor to pick up the notebook he had thrown. Hyungu watched with great curiosity as he started writing things down. “I don’t know, Hyungu-ah. I don’t think I like the idea of something else dictating my life for me. Like sure, maybe I spill a coffee and there’s nothing I can do about it but deciding who I love? That’s kinda weird. Not that I’m judging you or anything.”

“But wouldn’t it be less stressful if you let the universe handle everything?” Hyungu asked. He watched Yonghoon’s expression as he jotted notes down, mesmerized by the way the shadows fell across his face.

Yonghoon stopped writing and looked up from his notebook. “Less stressful? What do you mean?”

The moment their eyes met, Hyungu felt every nerve in his body light on fire and suddenly he was reminded of exactly why he said “less stressful.” Sure, he could write about love and explain the meaning behind his songs for interviews but to be in love was an entirely different beast.

He wasn’t good at being in love. Just looking at Yonghoon was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Love was stressful. When he realized Yonghoon liked him back, that should’ve been the end of it. That was the end for so many other people but not for him. Instead, they stood in a weird limbo where they loved each other but couldn’t love each other. Not the same way regular people could. Not the way they could’ve if they chose literally any other occupation.

“Love doesn’t come naturally to me. Romantically, I mean. I’m not good at it. Nothing comes out of it,” he said halfheartedly. Saying that to the person he loved was probably not a good idea.

If they weren’t making direct eye contact, he would not have caught the slight furrow of Yonghoon’s brows. “Huh, I see.”

That was definitely not a good idea.

He waved his hands in front of him in a hurry. “I mean, hah, it’s less stressful than the thought of picking the wrong person, y’know? Like, uh, I’m not that good at love but if I believe the universe has the right person for me, I just have to find them.” He laughed nervously and then looked deadpan at Yonghoon. “I’m not a complete loser, I promise.”

Yonghoon actually laughed, causing his face to light up and Hyungu genuinely felt his heart skip a beat. “You kind of are but it’s okay. You’re my favorite loser.”

Hyungu leaned forward in his seat until his elbows were resting on his knees. He did it with the intention of putting his face in his hands to continue the loser bit but he made eye contact with Yonghoon again and faltered. “Thanks?”

He could see Yonghoon examining him with how close they were. Yonghoon’s eyes wandered all over his face: from his eyes, down to his cheekbones, then finally down at his lips, his gaze lingering there too long for comfort.

Frantic, Hyungu leaned back into his chair and turned around to face his monitor—anything to avoid Yonghoon looking at him like that. This was what he meant about the way Yonghoon looks at him giving everything away. But again, they can’t just give in like that. Leaning back and turning away was the best option; at least to him it was.

He cleared his throat. “But besides me being a loser and my lack of love life, that’s what I think fate is. Can you write about it now?” He clicked already mindlessly on his monitor, trying to pretend he was so much more focused than he actually was.

”I’ll see what I can do…” Yonghoon trailed off and Hyungu knew he wanted to talk more—he could hear it in his voice.

“But?”

“Huh, what do you mean ‘but?’”

“You want to say something else. I can hear it in your voice.”

“No…?”

He clicked around his desktop some more, trying to organize the files scattered everywhere. “Just say it, hyung.”

“I just think that the universe can decide whatever it wants but I’d also like to think I choose who I love,” Yonghoon said simply. He said it like it was without a doubt, his voice firm.

Which meant that Hyungu had to challenge it. Who would he be if he didn’t egg his members on? “What if you choose someone who isn’t good for you?” Click, click.

“I don’t think I have to worry about that.”

“Mm, what do you mean by that?” Wow, his desktop was a mess. How did he let it get into a state like this? He must’ve been—

“I mean, I chose you, didn’t I?”

Chose me?

Hyungu whipped his chair around once again and saw Yonghoon already looking at him like he was the only other person in the world.

God, of course he was already looking.

“You what?” Hyungu choked out. That was not what Yonghoon was supposed to say. He was supposed to continue the banter, keep arguing about fate and choice, literally anything else.

What, it must’ve been like at least seven months? Seven months of the most torturous back and forth he has ever experienced and the first time any of them said anything about it was like this? He did not spend years pining and months ignoring what he could’ve had just for it to come crashing now.

Every prolonged glance, every stare, every slight brush of their hands during their evening walks, everything night spent holed up in each other’s studios and baring the purest parts of their souls through music—it comes down to this?

You’ve got to be kidding.

Yonghoon tilted his hand to the side, hair falling onto his eyes and Hyungu wanted so badly to reach out and brush it away. “Oh, sorry. I thought you knew.”

Hyungu’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Of course I knew! But this cannot be how you’re finally bringing this up.”

“What do you mean ‘finally bringing this up?’” The tone of Yonghoon’s voice pierced through him. “I was just respecting your boundaries! You didn’t reciprocate when I made things so obvious that there was no way you didn’t know so I just didn’t say anything! How was I supposed to know it was mutual?”

What?

“No? I’ve been very interested for years but there’s nothing I—“ he paused, “we, there’s nothing we can do about it. Look at the industry we’re in. If anything about anyone got out then our entire career is destroyed. I can’t do that to you all just because I like someone.”

“Am I just someone?”

All the air in Hyungu’s lungs left. “No, of course not. That’s not what I meant—“ He stopped when he saw the grin on Yonghoon’s face. “You asshole.”

“I know what you mean, don’t worry. I’m just messing with you,” Yonghoon said, the laughter in his voice barely contained. His eyes were bright. “But you know you never mentioned that before. Like the industry thing.”

“Well, we never mentioned anything at all.”

“I guess. But apparently you haven’t mentioned anything for years.”

A groan rumbled from the back of Hyungu’s throat. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe this is how you find out.” He lifted his hand to run it through his hair, a habit he slowly absorbed after a decade of friendship with Yonghoon.

But his hand stopped—not because he stopped but because something else did. Someone else stopped it. The height difference from one person sitting on a chair and the other sitting on the floor made the action more awkward than it had to be but Yonghoon still lunged forward to grasp Hyungu’s arm. Neither of them said anything as he brought Hyungu’s hand low enough for him to be facing the palm of his hand.

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either.”

Hyungu didn’t know what was happening, his focus rapidly switching between the hand on his arm and the palm of his hand being close enough to Yonghoon’s face to feel the faint warmth of his breath.

When Yonghoon put his hand against Hyungu’s, the entire world seemed to stop. The hum of his PC disappeared, the flickering light outside stayed on, the hammering in his chest stilled—the entire universe stopped for him at that moment. He sat there, perfectly frozen in time and staring at their hands pressed against each other.

But time kick-started itself again the moment Yonghoon gingerly laced his fingers in between Hyungu’s still upright hand. Hyungu could see the way Yonghoon’s eyes darted all around his face, trying to detect any change in facial expression that might give away anything he might feel about the sudden development.

He wanted this. This represented years of emotional turmoil finally coming to fruition. Every part of his mind was screaming because this was exactly where he wanted to be for years: reciprocated feelings that were acknowledged by both parties. Still, why did it terrify him?

Was it the fear of what would happen to them if the public were to ever find out? The fear of the reality he used for years as a shield to stop himself from feeling too much finally changing? Just simply the fear of change?

Or was it the fear of Yonghoon not being the one the stars meant for him? He spent so many years believing in fate; it wasn’t a doctrine he lived by because he had to but something akin to hope. Staying stagnant with his and Yonghoon’s relationship felt safe because going further meant testing his own beliefs.

Would he be content if the universe told him no? Would he be content if the universe told him there was someone else for him that wasn’t Yonghoon?

No, he wouldn’t.

He closed his hand around Yonghoon’s, so slowly he could barely tell he was moving. Before he could react to their hands being fully conjoined, the most beautiful smile stretched across Yonghoon’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes and baring the stars on his face.

That was a risk he was willing to take.

Chapter Text

Enlistments hit harder than Hyungu thought. He could barely think of Yonghoon’s enlistment because he went not too long after. He missed Yonghoon but his own stretch in the military made it a little more bearable; at least he wasn’t stuck at home doing nothing, unable to perform as five. Now, it was different.

He watched as tufts of Harin’s hair fell onto the ground. His parents were there, meticulously shaving their son’s head because his four brothers didn’t do a great job beforehand. The cameras were all off now, partially because the staff concluded they had enough footage for Harin’s goodbye vlog but primarily because they wanted to give the family some privacy.

When the staff left, Dongmyeong and Giuk were gleefully giggling about Harin’s baldness behind his parents, waiting for the moment they could get their hands on his head. Harin’s parents could only attempt to hold in their laughter so they could finish shaving his head and finally let the other two feel it. The sound of Harin and Yonghoon’s bickering filled the walls of the salon; even with seven people huddled together in the room, they could barely focus on the lack of space.

Hyungu and Yonghoon were squished together near a wall, barely avoiding knocking into several carts of hair care and tools. Harin was only an arm’s length away but if they got any closer, they risked getting hair all over their clothes and as much as they loved him, they did not want to carry remnants of him around like that.

“Hyung, you look like an old man with your hands behind your back and leaning against the wall!” Harin called out from the barber’s chair. If his hands weren’t underneath the cape protecting him from hair, he would’ve pointed and laughed to drive in his point.

“I have to do something with my hands!” Yonghoon shot back. He examined his surroundings and zeroed in on Hyungu’s hand, making a big deal out of grabbing it, bringing it to his face, and planting a kiss on the top of it with an exaggerated mwah! much to the others’ dismay. “Happy?”

“Eugh, not in front of the kids,” Dongmyeong said, covering his eyes and then Giuk’s with a free hand.

Hyungu could only laugh and bring their conjoined hands down to their sides but not letting go. He wouldn’t dare let go or else Yonghoon would never let him hear the end of it.

He didn’t realize how heartbreaking it was to send someone off without the weight of your own service looming over your head. Watching Harin join the other recruits was an emotional endeavor he didn’t prepare himself for. The remaining four walked back to the van feeling like a fifth of their souls were missing and got ready to do it another two times.

Dongmyeong’s was next and Giuk went soon after him. They didn’t have to go so soon but none of them wanted to separate the group for longer than they had to so this was their solution. It almost reminded Hyungu of why he enlisted so early (except his reason had a little more Yonghoon involved but no one had to know).

Sending Dongmyeong was still lively, though. Even without Harin, they managed to send him off well and no one will ever let him forget the way he tripped on another recruit’s foot on the way in.

But Yonghoon was extra dramatic during Giuk’s send off. Maybe it felt like he was actually sending his son off to war but Giuk didn’t mind the extra attention—it made up for the fact that half of them weren’t even there to say goodbye.

Giuk faced away from Yonghoon to look at Hyungu. “Man, I don’t know how you’re going to deal with only him for a year and a half. I can barely handle him now and I’m about to leave.”

“How could you say that about me?” Yonghoon slumped into Giuk who struggled to support his weight. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do but I love you a little less when you’re on top of me, hyung.”

Yonghoon flung the back of his hand against his forehead, Giuk almost crumbling under the weight. “I think he hates me.”

“Give him a break, he’s losing his last son to the military,” Hyungu said, reaching over to rub Giuk’s shaved head.

“Of course you’re on his side! You guys are probably glad to see me go so you can be a normal—”

Hyungu quickly used his other hand to cover Giuk’s mouth. “Are you crazy? Not when there are fans nearby.”

“They can’t hear us from over here!”

“Is that a risk you want to take?”

“Hey, at least it won’t be me writing an apology letter.”

“I can’t believe they’re all gone.”

Hyungu pulled an old sleep shirt over his head, feeling water drip down his back. “Hm?”

Yonghoon shifted over in Hyungu’s bed so he was on his side and watching Hyungu get ready for bed. “Is this how you guys felt when I left?”

“Not really. For me, I was sad to see you go but I also had the others with me. And I was worried about my own enlistment, too.”

“Oh.”

Hyungu finished pulling another sweater over his head and walked up to Yonghoon’s bed, motioning for him to scoot over and make room. “That wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You wanted to hear about how devastated I was and how I wondered what I was going to do without you.”

“Well, clearly you gave it some thought before. Why else would you enlist with me?” The question was completely rhetorical—Yonghoon knew the answer but he loved seeing how Hyungu would attempt to get out of answering. He shifted in the bed, feeling it dip down with Hyungu’s weight.

“Not giving you the satisfaction of answering that.”

He frowned. “You’re no fun.”

Hyungu frowned back mockingly and leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m tired, hyung.”

“Then go to sleep. Tomorrow is officially the first day of our break so you can sleep in for as long as you like,” Yonghoon said. He scooted further away, pressing himself against the wall so Hyungu could properly settle in and get comfortable.

“Where are you going?” It was Hyungu’s turn to scoot further into the bed, fumbling around with his eyes closed until he grabbed Yonghoon’s arm and unceremoniously dumped it around his waist. “You’re so far.”

He didn’t hear him say anything in response but felt a sharp intake of air against his hair—a sign of Yonghoon trying not to laugh loudly and disrupt their attempt at peace and quiet before bed. He grew so accustomed to Yonghoon needing to have at least one point of contact between them while sleeping that he already corrected their position so he didn’t get woken up later by a certain someone trying to fix it; he would rather die than admit he found it annoyingly endearing (only annoying because it woke him up).

But after sharing a bed for so long, you pick up on someone else’s habits. He knew that if Yonghoon was tired and neither of them were moving, he would be asleep in a matter of minutes. If that was the case, his breathing would’ve slowed down but the rise and fall of his chest was too frequent against him.

He opened his eyes and saw another pair already staring at him. “You’re not tired?”

“No, I’m thinking too much,” Yonghoon replied. He truly looked wide awake.

“That’s rare.”

Yonghoon rolled his eyes. “Shush. I’m thinking about what Giuk said before he left.”

“Yeah, me too,” Hyungu mumbled, “I can’t believe he threatened to make you his favorite if I don’t keep the dorm clean. We all know you’re hopeless.”

“You’re on a roll, aren’t you?”

“I think I’m funnier when I’m tired.”

The arm around Hyungu’s waist spurred into action and he was met with a pinch on the bare skin where his shirt lifted up. He barely heard the small ow! that escaped his own throat.

“You know what I’m talking about. Giuk said we could finally be normal,” Yonghoon said, a sense of wonder lingering in his voice at the thought of it. “We have no official schedules. We might have more privacy since we don’t have to be in the public eye all the time. The other three aren’t always around us.”

The switch to a slightly more serious topic grounded Hyungu. He knew this conversation would come.

They always knew that they would never know “normal.” They still kept up an act whenever they were outside the safety of their dorm or locked studios—only behind closed doors were they somewhat “normal” by regular civilian standards. Every interaction on stage was just an excuse to flirt with each other in public while the crowd still thought of it as fan service; that was the most they could do without risking everything.

But everything about their relationship was a risk—they knew that even before there was an “us” between them. For Hyungu, maybe he was too aware of it for too many years. He knew that everything they’d all worked for could go down the drain if the wrong person saw them at the wrong time. That was just the risk he had to take.

I would take every risk and he would do the same. That was their mantra. Everything would be okay. They would be okay.

“Maybe we can be a little more normal but it wouldn’t be very us if the relationship were completely normal.” Hyungu scanned every inch of Yonghoon he could see, taking it all in as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. The moon lamp on his bedside table was enough to illuminate every freckle and mole on Yonghoon’s face.

Yonghoon stared back at him without saying anything. For a few moments, all he did was watch Hyungu’s eyes wander all over his face before speaking. “I know. I don’t think anyone in this industry knows normal but it would be nice to not have to worry about it.”

The bed creaked under them as Hyungu shifted a little closer. He brought his hand to Yonghoon’s face, tracing every discoloration on his skin and feeling it underneath his index finger. “Mm, but it’s worth it, right?”

“Of course, it is,” Yonghoon answered immediately. “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be letting you touch my face with your grubby fingers.”

“Hey, they’re clean,” Hyungu said, frowning but not stopping the languid path his finger was taking across the stars on Yonghoon’s face.

“I know, I know. I’m kidding, Hyungu-ah.”

It was almost completely silent as Hyungu kept tracing a path across every freckle like he was mapping a constellation, the only sound between them being their breathing. He went along the same path every time: the freckles along Yonghoon’s cheeks and nose then the tiny moles scattered across the rest of his face. Once he completed it, he would restart, over and over again until he memorized the placement of every mark and could intuitively retrace the same path with his eyes closed.

That was how he knew he would find Yonghoon in every lifetime. There would never be a version of him that didn’t remember how to connect the stars on his face. That was the universe’s gift to him: a way to find Yonghoon in every life. As for Yonghoon, it was a gift for him as well—he could proudly boast his very own portion of the universe scattered across his face. Or at least Hyungu thought so.

As muscle memory took over and he was no longer actively tracing but just letting his body follow the path ingrained into it, he felt his eyes getting heavy. He was exhausted but the way Yonghoon’s content smile warmed all of his features made Hyungu keep going.

“Did you know some people say moles and freckles are where your lover kissed you in a past life?” Yonghoon asked. His voice was soft, the scene so extremely domestic that Hyungu wanted to melt on the spot.

“Yeah. Is that what you think?”

“Not really, but it makes me wonder if that’s why you’re so obsessed with mine.”

Not even Hyungu’s exhaustion could stop him from breaking out into a wide smile. “You act like you don’t like the attention.” He finally brought his hand back so he could slowly push himself into a sitting position.

“Pft, what are you going to do about it? Give me less attention?”

That was all Hyungu needed to hear before he leaned over him and started to press kisses across all the skin he could reach: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, lips, blemished or not, as if he was trying to change the path of stars he would memorize in the next life. Or maybe he just wanted to kiss Yonghoon breathless. He didn’t think Yonghoon minded either.

Underneath him, Yonghoon was laughing softly with each press of Hyungu’s lips against his face, only pausing when they were pressed against his own lips, kissing back for however long he could before Hyungu moved on to another part of his face. He halfheartedly tried to push Hyungu off because all of the movement started to tickle but to no avail (not like he tried very hard).

“Just admit that you like it,” Hyungu said, dodging the hands underneath him. He didn’t wait for a response before he leaned down again to kiss a prominent freckle on Yonghoon’s forehead.

He could only get one kiss in before Yonghoon gently grabbed his head and forced him to stay still for a second. They looked at each other for a brief moment before Yonghoon brought his head down and properly kissed him. All he could think about was how the taste of Yonghoon and toothpaste flooded his brain and suddenly, he couldn’t think. The only thought his mind could provide was just Yonghoon’s name over and over again.

He felt arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down until their bodies were almost flush against each other. He had to break away just a bit so their teeth didn’t clash during the descent but Yonghoon chased his lips like a man starved, resting his hands on the sides of Hyungu’s face and running his thumbs along the underside of his jaw. Every slight touch sent shivers down his spine, only for the warmth of Yonghoon’s mouth to bring him out of it.

It felt like an entire lifetime had passed when he finally pushed Hyungu away but not before nipping at his bottom lip and making him feel like he was about to pass away at any moment. They were still close enough to feel each other desperately sucking air back into their lungs.

Yonghoon moved ever so slowly, carefully tucking Hyungu’s hair behind his ears so he could see his eyes. “Maybe I do like it,” he whispered.

Hyungu’s lips curled into a smug smile. “And?”

“And I love you.”

“And?” Hyungu insisted, not even sure what he was expecting from the man underneath him.

“And I will choose to love you every time the option is presented. You’re a choice I’ll never regret.”

Overcome with a combination of almost every positive emotion, he rolled off of Yonghoon and nestled himself in the crook of his neck, trying to hide his face because there was no way he could look Yonghoon in the eyes right now without feeling like dying. “Love you, too,” he mumbled.

Neither of them spoke again, their banter dying off to make room for the silence of the empty dorm but that also meant there was nothing to keep him awake any longer. Only a few minutes passed and Yonghoon’s breathing already evened out, rolling over Hyungu’s head with every soft exhale. It got harder for Hyungu to keep his eyes open and the warmth of Yonghoon completely enveloping him did nothing to keep the drowsiness away.

But their combined body heat and layers of bedding proved to be too much. He gently brought his head away from Yonghoon’s neck, careful to not wake him up. He managed to create a few inches of space between them but he was still close enough to revere every little detail of Yonghoon’s skin.

“Did you know some people say moles and freckles are where your lover kissed you in a past life?”

The newfound space allowed him to admire the view he’d committed to memory countless times and he felt himself falling in love with the man in front of him all over again. Out of respect for Yonghoon’s sleep, he resisted the urge to run his fingers along his freckles again, opting to trace them with his eyes instead; he followed the same path his fingers took, soaking in and worshipping every inch of skin because he could never get enough of the stars on Yonghoon’s face. He could study the night sky for eternity and never find a constellation more beautiful than the one he kissed onto Yonghoon’s skin.