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Yeonjun is sitting on the kitchen floor, a bowl of tangerine peels cradled between his thighs. Citrus wafts into the air around him, gets under his nails and makes his fingers sticky.
The clock on the stove reads a little past 2am. Digging into the notches of his spine is the hard ridge of the cabinet he’s leaning against, and above him, the fluorescent lights are scathingly bright. Yeonjun thinks they might pass right through him. Wonders if they’d reveal how hollow he feels tonight.
The rest of the boys are asleep. He knows because he waited for them to be. Beomgyu was the last to go to bed, the light from his computer screen going dark under his door half an hour ago, leaving the hallway muted and still.
That left Yeonjun. Just him. Not Yeonjun the idol, not Yeonjun the fourth generation it-boy or Big Hit’s Legendary Trainee or whatever other moniker his fans have lovingly assigned him. He wasn’t Healingie nor Yeonjun the mat-hyung. Just Yeonjun from Sungbuk-gu, stripped of all personas and responsibilities.
Mat-hyung. The eldest. Stubbornly, his mind takes hold of it and refuses to let go.
It’s a role that was given to him early on, one he’d accepted long before he became one-fifth of TXT. Yeonjun doesn’t have any siblings, but he was always around his baby cousins growing up. He remembers one time his mother was peeling garlic at the kitchen table, a proud smile on her face while he played gong-gi with them on the floor beside her.
"They really look up to you, Jun-ah," she’d said. "Take good care of them, okay? Just like this."
He’d nodded, beaming at the praise he received from her.
Care for them. Protect them. Be strong for them. He’d taken those words to heart, had eventually woven them into his cells. It’s all he’s ever known.
He’s been trying to unlearn some of it now. But most times when Yeonjun tries to ask for help, he finds himself stumbling. Why should he need it, when he already has so much?
"Yeonjun hyung?"
Yeonjun blinks, and his eyes refocus on the tangerine in his hand. He hadn’t realized he’d been squeezing it, warming it in his palms.
He’s made this mistake before. Stayed up long enough for his defenses to drop. It’s easy to succumb to his insecurities when he’s as exhausted as he is. Easier still to lose awareness of what’s happening around him.
"Kai-yah," he says.
Kai squints at him, blinking to get used to the light. His hair is a thing to behold, with one side lying flat while the other resembles a haystack. There are pillow marks across his cheek, dips and hills on the terrain of his pretty, blemished skin.
Yeonjun opens his mouth to make fun of him when he notices Kai’s t-shirt, too big for his already wide frame, one sleeve exposing a milky shoulder. It gives him pause. Has him switching gears.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" He couldn’t have—he’s barely made a sound, but Yeonjun still asks out of courtesy.
Kai shakes his head. "What’re you still doing up?"
"Think I had too much coffee." It isn’t exactly a lie, but. "What’re you doing up?"
This must remind Kai of why he came into the kitchen in the first place, because suddenly he’s moving from under the doorway, heading to the fridge where he takes out their pitcher of water.
"Thirsty," he says, holding it up with a drowsy smile.
There’s this thing about Kai, Yeonjun thinks, where you can’t help but mirror him. When he smiles, you smile. When he frowns, you frown. When he laughs, you laugh. The effect is like magic, a spell without a reversal.
Or at least, to Yeonjun it is. Oftentimes, he doesn’t understand why the entire world isn’t able to see Kai like he does.
"You want one?" Yeonjun holds his hand out. Kai looks at the proffered tangerine slices in his palm before taking a couple.
"Thanks."
"Sure."
Yeonjun doesn’t expect him to stay, but then Kai is dropping down beside him, shoulder knocking into his own as he sits cross-legged. Yeonjun squeezes Kai’s thigh, a thank you for his company.
"My mom used to make us tea with these whenever our throats hurt from coughing or singing," Kai starts, taking a peel from the bowl in Yeonjun’s lap and rubbing it in between his fingers. Yeonjun listens like he’s being told a secret, which, with Kai, it can really feel like that sometimes. "All she added was a spoonful of honey."
"Yeah?" Yeonjun responds. "I think my mom used to do that for me too. Might’ve been lemon peels though."
"Ah," Kai says, as acknowledgement. He’s always making sure to acknowledge Yeonjun and the rest of them when they say something. Like he wants them to know they’ll be heard no matter how loud their lives get. "I asked for more honey every time she made it."
"Of course you did."
Kai digs his fingers into Yeonjun’s side in retaliation for his teasing, and Yeonjun laughs, squirming but not daring to move away.
They fall silent after that. At a certain point Yeonjun knows he should be a good hyung and tell Kai to go back to bed, but—
"Did you really drink too much coffee?"
When Yeonjun turns to meet Kai’s gaze, the first thing he notices is that he’s terribly close. Terribly, because Yeonjun finds himself wanting to be even closer. He wants to share in Kai’s warmth but is so afraid he’ll somehow manage to steal it from him. Kai only has so much to give, and he gives so much, constantly.
"I think I had like, three shots of espresso?"
"Are you asking me?" Kai is smiling, impish but kind.
Yeonjun scoffs. "Hey, don’t start acting like a punk."
"But you like it when I do," Kai says.
He isn’t wrong. Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, just takes the bowl in his lap and sets it aside on the floor.
He hates that he didn’t notice it earlier.
"Kai-yah."
"Yes?"
"You didn’t come in here just because you were thirsty."
Kai’s smile falters, and Yeonjun regrets being the cause of it. But he could tell something was off about him as soon as he started talking about his mother. Now, it’s clear to him. He has to make Kai understand.
"You don’t have to take care of me," he says. He reaches for Kai’s hand and interlaces their fingers together. "Are you taking care of yourself?"
Kai just looks at him in a way that makes Yeonjun feel flayed open. His pupils are jumping back and forth between Yeonjun’s eyes, and suddenly Yeonjun can’t remember the last time he saw Kai cry.
They just sit there for what feels like an eternity, staring at each other, neither of them backing down. Both of them refusing to, as if to tell each other: I’m not going anywhere.
He and Kai, they’re as different as two people can get. But in this, Yeonjun thinks, they’re the same.
"Hyung is okay," he reassures him. His voice is going a little funny, so he clears it. "There’s just… sometimes there’s all these doubts, you know? They never really go away. You have them too, right?"
Kai nods finally. "Yeah," he says. "I know. I do."
Yeonjun has to take a deep breath at that. "You’re doing well, Kai-yah. So well. You always have, and I’m proud of you." And because he needs Kai to hear it, needs him to know — "Do you realize how beautiful you are? How crazy talented?" He laughs a little. "You know how loved you are, right?"
The words cascade from him without grace, but it’s only because he feels them so deeply. Yeonjun watches as Kai lets go of him and takes a sip of his water. He holds his mug with both of his hands, careful.
Yeonjun can guess what Kai is thinking. You can hear something a thousand times over, it'll make sense in your head, but you’ll never know how and when your heart will catch up to it.
"You can rest hyung," Kai whispers after a moment. "It’s okay for you to rest."
Yeonjun scoots closer and does just that. He rests his head against Kai’s shoulder. After a while, Kai’s lips press against his crown. He doesn’t expect it and pulls away to feign disgust. But Kai presses another one against his cheek, and the protest dies in his throat. Yeonjun hears the soft clack of Kai's mug being placed onto the floor, and then Kai is taking his hand again, kissing the back of it, lips brushing across each knuckle.
Yeonjun laughs, a little mortified, but it passes as quickly as it comes, replaced by relief.
He leans in to knock their foreheads together.
"Kai-yah."
"Yes?"
"Hyung will grant you one wish. What will it be?"
Kai looks down at their hands, clasped between their bodies. He exhales.
"Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
Yeonjun nods. Moves away to stand. But Kai gets on his feet first, and he holds out his hand for Yeonjun to take.
When Kai tugs him up, supporting all of his weight, Yeonjun lets him.