Chapter Text
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Mark asked for the twentieth time since Jungwoo had mentioned the name Lee Taeyong that afternoon, when Jaehyun had invited him to come by the studio for an nighttime recording session.
Jungwoo had only passing familiarity with this Lee Taeyong who worked with Jaehyun, but Mark, as it turned out, was apparently something of a super fan, sitting Jungwoo down and walking him through Taeyong’s extensive discography, the latter half of which had been produced by Jaehyun, of whom Mark was now also a super fan. Mark hadn’t asked outright if he could come along, but he had sighed so longingly as Jungwoo rifled through his closet looking for an outfit cool enough for a recording session that Jungwoo hadn’t been able to resist asking if Mark wanted to join. Mark’s eyes had been so sparkly and his smile so blinding that Jungwoo didn’t even care when Mark took one look at what he had thought to wear and tossed it off the bed with a single dismissive sweep of his arm.
Apparently, ripped jeans and a flannel weren't good enough for the Lee Taeyong , who was the coolest and most talented, according to the Mark Lee. Mark forced him to tight black jeans and a red t-shirt out of Yuta’s closet, which meant it wasn’t quite long enough to cover up all of his stomach when he raised his arms, leaving him huddling into the leather coat he had also been instructed to wear and clinging to Mark for warmth.
“I don’t mind,” Jungwoo affirmed, winding his arm through Mark’s as they made their way out of the subway station and towards the address Jaehyun had texted him. “It will be fun. And you can help me not sound stupid in front of Jaehyun when he starts talking about music stuff.”
“You could never sound stupid.” Mark patted his hand, practically dragging him through the sliding glass doors into the hallowed lobby of XX Entertainment. “Wow,” Mark sighed, all of the breath in his lungs exiting his parted lips in a single great exhale of awe. “I never thought I would step foot in here.”
Jungwoo didn’t know much about the music industry, but he knew enough to know that for someone like Mark, who aspired to be part of it one day, that where they were standing was apparently kind of a big deal. Taeyong was kind of a big deal. He supposed that made Jaehyun, who had never once bragged about himself, who made jokes about being super cool and hanging out with super famous people, kind of a big deal, too. Jungwoo wrapped his borrowed leather coat around his peeking midriff and tried not to feel intimidated.
“I promise I’ll only stay for like ten minutes.” Mark said, shifting anxiously next to him, his gaze darting here and there and everywhere, catching on the framed records and the massive screen showing a constant reel of the stars and idols that called the company home.
“It’s fine,” Jungwoo said, absently thinking that he recognized one of the popstars he liked as he watched pretty face after pretty face flash by. “I’m sure Jaehyun won’t mind if you stick around to watch,” Jungwoo murmured, hoping that he was right, hoping that Jaehyun had meant it when he had finally answered Jungwoo’s text asking if Mark could join with a short and simple “ok.”
“I don’t want to crash your date.” Mark rubbed Jungwoo’s arm, his excitement still extremely obvious even beneath the veneer of concern for Jungwoo’s love life. “It’s just…TY, you know. He’s like –”
“The coolest, the greatest, the hottest,” Jungwoo interrupted, laughing as he ticked off Taeyong’s supposed attributes.
“Talking about me?”
Jungwoo jumped right out of Mark’s hold at the sound of Jaehyun’s voice right next to his ear. “You scared me!” Jungwoo accused, turning around to find Jaehyun standing right behind him, smirking like he wanted to add ‘the funniest, the most clever,’ to the list of things he thought he was. “And no,” Jungwoo said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We were talking about Lee Taeyong, obviously.”
“Taeyong is a dork,” Jaehyun said, so fondly that Jungwoo had to bite his tongue to keep from snarking ‘ it takes one to know one ,’ only to have Mark practically faint at the idea that his idol could be anything but the coolest.
“There’s no way!” Mark almost hip checked Jungwoo out of the way to put his sparkly eyes and sunny smile right up in Jaehyun’s face. “There’s no way someone who made his last two albums could be anything but a genius.”
“I worked on those. Produced the lead tracks and half the b-sides.”
“Wow,” Mark said, managing to put an impressive amount of sycophancy into a single syllable. “That’s amazing, dude, you’re amazing.”
“I like this guy.”
Jaehyun’s smug grin turned unbearably smugger, his eyes nothing more than crescent moons beneath the heavy lenses of his glasses. Jungwoo wanted to kiss him, which was just embarrassing, because Jaehyun was embarrassing, preening beneath the warmth of Mark’s regard while standing in the lobby of his workplace wearing slippers and a well-worn henley, as casual and at home as Jungwoo was not.
“This is Mark,” Jungwoo said, trying not to feel awkward in his tight pants and even tighter shirt, interrupting their little love fest. “Roommate, best friend, number one Taeyong stan, he who is incredibly grateful that you have let him into the building.” Mark put his hand in Jaehyun's, shaking it with the kind of reverence that made him want to roll his eyes but also ruffle Mark’s hair. “Mark is studying music composition. He’s incredibly talented.” Jungwoo said, wanting Mark to feel like he could walk through these supposedly hallowed halls with his back straight and his head held high. “Like crazy good, everyone says so. He’s going to be super famous.”
“Stop,” Mark hissed, the tops of his ears turning red as he elbowed Jungwoo hard enough that Jungwoo lost his grip on the leather jacket he was holding closed over his ridiculous outfit.
“Wow,” Jaehyun said, parroting Mark as he looked Jungwoo down and up and then down again, his gaze lingering on the gap between Jungwoo’s one pair of clubbing jeans and Yuta’s red, too-short shirt. “This is new.”
“Blame Mark.” Jungwoo gave up on his attempt at modesty, bending down to force Jaehyun look him in the eyes, trying to not to be as obvious with his preening, wondering how it was that Jaehyun never had to do more than stare at him to make him feel warm and pretty. “Apparently I needed to level up my fit to be fit for Taeyong.”
“So this is for him and not for me?” Jaehyun sighed and shook his head, tapping his ID badge on the gates and ushering them towards the elevators, thumb pressing on the down button, ready to take them where they needed to go. “I see how it is.”
“Don’t tease, hyung.” Jungwoo poked Jaehyun in the side as he slid into the elevator and leaned against the back wall. “I know I look kind of silly, but Mark –”
“You don’t look silly,” Jaehyun said beneath his breath, sidling up next to Jungwoo, close enough that Jungwoo could smell cologne and something else, something sweeter and softer, like the really fancy candles his sister had wanted for her birthday one year. “Oppa thinks you look hot.” Jungwoo turned his head to catch Jaehyun’s playful, hungry gaze as Jaehyun whispered, “Makes me wish we were alone.”
“Hush,” Jungwoo said, putting a finger over his smile and jerking his head in Mark’s direction as he mouthed, sorry , even though there was a very small part of him that was relieved to have Mark trapped in the steel box with them, a third wheel reason not to jump Jaehyun in his place of work.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jaehyun murmured, smiling back at Jungwoo like he really meant it. “He’s your friend. And you asked, so how could I say no?” Jungwoo dropped his hand into the inches that separated their hips and let his pinky curl around Jaehyun’s, a single point of contact. “Besides, Taeyong will probably love it. He always performs better for an audience.”
“Is that why you invited me? To be his audience?”
“My audience,” Jaehyun said, tugging Jungwoo infinitesimally closer, so near that Jungwoo could see himself in Jaehyun’s glasses, a reflection of nervous desire. “I’ll perform so good for you, you have no idea.”
The elevator came to a stop on what Jungwoo was pretty sure was the basement level, which did not seem very glamorous or cool. Mark rushed out of the doors as if his ass was on fire, not even bothering to wait for Jaehyun, who kept his pinky linked with Jungwoo’s as he ambled down the hallway, catching up to Mark, who was practically vibrating with so much excitement he could barely look Jungwoo in the eyes. Jaehyun pushed open the door with his shoulder, leading them into a softly lit studio, still holding Jungwoo by the fingertip.
Jungwoo looked around with almost as much awe and curiosity as Mark, feeling anxious to be suddenly in a space that was so special to Jaehyun. He had never been in Jaehyun’s house, but here he was, standing in the place where Jaehyun made a different kind of magic, not exactly sure what to do with himself.
“Make yourselves at home.” Jaehyun kicked off his slippers, standing barefoot on a worn carpet as he looked at Jungwoo and smiled, sliding an arm around Jungwoo’s waist.
Mark’s befuddled expression matched how Jungwoo felt – were they supposed to take his shoes off inside of XX Entertainment? Was it some kind of bizarre company rule? Maybe it was just what Jaehyun did to really get into the groove, like some sort of artist quirk? Figuring that “when in Rome,” was the best approach in times like these, Jungwoo was about to reach for his laces when a soft, amused voice called out from a dimly lit corner of the room.
“Hello, I’m Taeyong.”
Jungwoo forgot all about his shoes and Jaehyun’s bare feet as one of the most beautiful men he’d ever seen wandered over, so shockingly pretty that Jungwoo thought he understood Mark’s obsession just a little bit better.
“I’m Mark,” Mark said, stepping in front of Jungwoo to bow more deeply than he did for just about anyone, which was saying something because Mark was always consummately respectful with everyone he met. “It’s, like, such an honor to meet you. I’m such a fan, it’s crazy.”
Taeyong took the praise in stride, no doubt used to it after years of being famous, no doubt used to it looking the way that he looked, accepting Mark’s words with a small smile and a little flick of his hand, as if to wave the adoration away.
While Mark swooned, Jungwoo just stared, wondering how it was that Jaehyun was constantly surrounded by people who looked like they had been blessed by Aphrodite, who had big round eyes and perfect bone structure, dark hair undercut to make him look dangerous, but somehow also ethereal and unreal, effortlessly gorgeous even when dressed in nothing more than a stretched-out, worn t-shirt and a pair of baggy pants that looked way more comfortable than what Jungwoo was wearing. If Mark didn’t expire from the joy of being within two feet of his rockstar, Jungwoo was absolutely going to kill him for dressing Jungwoo like a go-go boy.
Taeyong laughed a little, pointing at him with a finger that was no less charming for its broken nail and chipped pink polish. “And you must be Jungwoo.”
“Uh.” Jungwoo blinked, the first thing that came to mind falling out of his mouth, even though it wasn’t exactly polite. It wasn’t every day a hot celebrity knew his name. “How did you know?”
“How else?” Taeyong laughed a little bit more and pointed the same finger at Jaehyun. “You’re the one he’s clinging onto.” Taeyong waggled his eyebrows. “You’re right, he’s totally cute.”
“Oh. Right.” Jungwoo blushed, flattered that Jaehyun had apparently talked about him to his super cool, super gorgeous friend. “But, yes, I’m Jungwoo.” Jungwoo dipped his head in greeting, finally remembering that no matter how cheap he may have looked, he still had expensive manners. “Thanks for letting us crash your session.”
“My pleasure.” Taeyong’s smile was more genuine as he clapped Jaehyun on the shoulder and started languidly moving towards the recording booth. “Anything to help a friend in need,” Taeyong said, poking Jaehyun in the gut, the touch familiar and fond. “Shall we get back to work?”
Jaehyun snapped his teeth at Taeyong, laughing as Taeyong danced out of reach and into the recording booth. He fussed with the headphones and further turned down the lights until there was nothing but flicker of candles, the shadows soft and pretty on his cheeks.
“Here, sit,” Jaehyun said, grabbing the chair Taeyong had abandoned and setting it directly next to his.
“You told him about me?” Jungwoo murmured, letting Jaehyun maneuver him until he was exactly where Jaehyun wanted.
“I tell everyone about you,” Jaehyun said, shameless and sweet, pushing Jungwoo down into the chair that had been warmed up by the butt of one of the most famous singers in Korea.
Jungwoo looked up at him, hands braced on the arms of the chair as Jaehyun dipped down so close that Jungwoo thought that he might kiss him right then and there, in front of Mark and the Lee Taeyong. But Jaehyun only lingered, watching Jungwoo as carefully as he had the first night they met, staring at him from centimeters away until Jungwoo couldn’t take another second of up-close eye contact and pressed his lips over Jaehyun’s if only to get him to stop staring.
“That doesn’t count as working,” Taeyong’s voice floated over the speaker, bright but tinged with impatience as the kiss lingered on longer than Jungwoo had intended.
Jaehyun’s eyes opened back up, but his lips didn’t stop kissing until Jungwoo pushed him away and buried his face in his hands, only daring to peek at his audience once Jaehyun was sitting his own chair, complaining that Taeyong had no room to talk when it came to “not working” in the recording studio.
“Don’t talk about that.” Taeyong said, pulling a stool over as he gave Jaehyun a baleful, unhappy look. “Especially not when I’m recording a love song.”
There was history in the weight of the silence that passed before Jaehyun put one hand on Jungwoo’s knee and the other on the sound board, telling Taeyong he was going to run it back. Jungwoo wanted to ask if everything was alright, but before he could get close enough to whisper, the music had started. Taeyong’s eyes closed and his body swayed in time with a beat that sounded like the one Jaehyun had kissed into Jungwoo while they sat on a beach, wrapped up in one another.
“Oh,” Jungwoo murmured, looking down to find Jaehyun’s fingers tapping out a newly familiar rhythm on the seams of his pants. “There are lyrics now.” Jaehyun squeezed his thigh and gave him a dimpled smile. “Did you write them?”
“Taeyong and I wrote them together,” Jaehyun said, leaning forward to do things on the sound board that Jungwoo didn’t understand but that made Mark squeeze his arms behind his head and sigh like he was in heaven, his expression entirely blissed out.
“So quickly?” Jungwoo asked, watching Jaehyun work hard, feeling strangely proud of Jaehyun as he listened to a song that had only a few days ago been nothing more than a melody hummed on a beach. “You really are cool, hyung.”
“Not that cool.” Jaehyun laughed, giving Jungwoo a gentle but loaded glance even as he continued to work, always giving Jungwoo so much of himself. “Just that inspired.”
“Inspired?”
“Listen,” Jaehyun murmured, putting his lips on Jungwoo’s ear and blowing, as if he wanted to clear out space to make room for the words he had written and put in Taeyong’s mouth. Jungwoo shivered, but came in closer, wishing he could listen to the song like he had the last time, with Jaehyun in his lap and the ocean at their feet. Jaehyun kissed his cheek and said, “If you do, I think you’ll get it.”
“I’m ready,” Taeyong said, tapping on the mic and stealing Jaehyun’s attention, giving Jungwoo a reprieve from all the honey dripping out of Jaehyun’s eyes. “Let’s go from the second verse, I feel good about the first.”
“You sounded amazing,” Mark chimed in, all smiles and enthusiasm, the mood in the room once more as soft and warm as the candlelight in the recording booth.
Jaehyun hit some button that started up the music and gave Taeyong all he needed to fill the room with the next verse of their lovely, aching song. There was such yearning and warmth in Taeyong’s voice that Jungwoo had to close his own eyes, feeling like he was intruding on something deeply personal, the words he was singing sweet like sugar, sticking in Jungwoo’s mind and conjuring up what it felt like to desperately want that first kiss, the thrill of new love. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel Jaehyun watching him, because it felt like Jaehyun was always looking at him, patient yet expectant, near but just far enough to give Jungwoo wiggle room to slip away.
“What?” Jungwoo asked, even though he kind of already knew, had known for weeks, opening his eyes to confirm that Jaehyun was, in fact, staring. The look in Jaehyun’s eyes made him blush, it made his toes curl in the shoes he knew Jaehyun didn’t want him to wear. It made him want to give in and finally answer the question being asked over and over in Jaehyun’s song.
“Just looking at you.” Jaehyun shrugged, as if it was obvious, as if it wasn’t crazy that he was probably the only person on the planet who wouldn’t be entranced by Lee Taeyong sounding absolutely wrecked and raw as he sang his heart out.
“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to him?” Jungwoo murmured, as Taeyong hit the climax of the song, his voice breaking over lyrics that begged for more, pleading for love to be returned.
Behind thick lenses, Jaehyun’s eyelashes fluttered, as slow and heavy as his whispered, “Should I?”
Taeyong’s voice slipped into Jungwoo’s ears and into his bloodstream, filling him up and making him warm all over, wanting things he hadn’t trusted himself to want in so long. Jungwoo started to nod yes ,to tell Jaehyun to stop looking, to stop watching, when he caught sight of his lovestruck, dumbstruck reflection in Jaehyun’s glasses, his stomach turning over at the realization that he really was bad at lying.
He never wanted Jaehyun to stop looking.
“Hyung,” Jungwoo started, licking his lips and trying to sound more confident, more sure than he felt, buoyed on a love song that he thought may have been written for him. “Oppa,” Jungwoo started over, putting his hand on Jaehyun’s cheek, his heart beating out of time with the melody, too fast to be anything but an ecstatic rhythm. “Later, after, do you want me to come –”
“Shit, sorry,” Taeyong’s voice pierced through the veil, the song suddenly gone when Taeyong started rapidly apologizing about sounding flat on the last note of the bridge, Jaehyun and the moment totally lost as Jaehyun muttered shit in a very different tone and tore himself away. “Are you even listening?” Taeyong’s complaint came through loud and clear, sending Jungwoo careening back into his seat.
“I was! You were perfect,” Mark said, encouraging Taeyong while Jungwoo tried to remember how to breathe and Jaehyun smashed buttons on the control panel with more force that was probably necessary.
“You’re sweet. Too sweet.” Taeyong laughed, running his hands through his hair and shaking his head. “Jaehyun,” Taeyong said, a sharpness in his tone that made Jungwoo want to sit up straight. “I get it, you know I do, but we need to get this done. You know what’s at stake.”
Instead of sitting up, Jungwoo shrunk back into his seat, putting his hands under his legs so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for Jaehyun, so he wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way again.
“Let’s get it done, then,” Jaehyun sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes as the song started over from the start of the bridge. “Pick it up a notch here, you know the tone we’re going for. I’m sure even you can remember.”
“Maybe I don’t,” Taeyong shot back. “Maybe you and your friend could give me another unnecessarily public demonstration to jog my memory.”
Jungwoo cringed, worried that he’d ruined Jaehyun’s night, worried that he’d upset someone that was clearly important to Jaehyun and messed up something even more important to Taeyong, who was famous and cool and special.
“I’m so sor—“
“New love, right?” Mark asked, leaning over the mixer and stream rolling right over the sudden tension in the room, compelling everyone to look at him instead of at one another. Mark smiled, his cheeks flush, his gaze the only bright thing left in the room. “That feeling of hoping but not knowing if it’s going to work out, if the other person is going to say yes.”
“That’s right,” Jaehyun said quietly. “And you’re right, too,” Jaehyun directed at Taeyong, cracking his shoulders and his neck as the fight receded and Jungwoo’s fingers unclenched beneath his thighs. “We need to finish this.” Jaehyun cast a fleeting, apologetic smile his way. “Baby, hold that thought for me, alright?”
Jungwoo shook his head, knowing that what he had to say could wait, could go unsaid as long as it took not to get in the way. “Forget it, it’s no big deal.”
“Please,” Jaehyun murmured, “Don’t let it go. Not again.”
Jungwoo thought about Jaehyun’s inspiration, thought about that queer, unsettling feeling of hope yet fear when it came to the person you liked. He thought about Jaehyun’s pretty song and about how maybe Jaehyun was just as nervous, just as uncertain as to whether or not Jungwoo was going to take a chance, to take the next step, to like him enough to stay.
“I won’t,” Jungwoo whispered, hoping for the first time that the moment of truth would come again.
Jaehyun turned back to Taeyong, music and song filling the room again, and then again, and then again, as Taeyong insisted he needed to do it over while Jaehyun argued that he sounded fine. Something in Taeyong had changed, languid had turned rigid, his beauty suddenly hard and distant. Taeyong went slowly red, his voice starting to scratch and peel as the minutes and the attempts wore on, chasing down some illusive form of perfection that Jungwoo thought could only be understood by an artist. Jaehyun was patient, Mark was encouraging, but after the tenth try, after one of the candles had burned out in Taeyong’s little booth, Jungwoo could tell that tempers were starting to fray again, the curve of Jaehyun’s spine stiffening each time Taeyong demanded to go again.
Jungwoo didn’t even think it was about him – well, them – any longer, Jaehyun hadn’t even looked at him in the last fifteen minutes, entirely focused on his art and his artist, wrinkles of what had to be worry started to carve a groove in his forehead. Jungwoo didn’t know what was wrong, only that something was, only that he wanted to take care of Jaehyun, to tell him that whatever it was, it was all going to be alright.
“We’ve only got a few more minutes,” Jaehyun said, after try number twelve, his glasses on the desk and his palm over his eyes, turning the music all the way down as he waved Taeyong out of the booth. “Let’s leave it here for the night.”
“No.” Taeyong shook his head, standing up and rolling his shoulders, brushing off Jaehyun’s concern like it was nothing. “I can do it. I can do this.”
Jungwoo looked at Mark, who shrugged and held out his hands as if to say what can we do while Jungwoo resisted the urge to rub Jaehyun’s back, not wanting Taeyong to snap at Jaehyun again more than he wanted to try and be supportive.
“I know you can,” Jaehyun argued, standing up and heading towards the door like he intended to take Taeyong out himself. “But there’s no need to push –”
“I remember what love feels like,” Taeyong said, his voice raising as the door opened before Jaehyun had made it halfway across the room, two people stepping into their broken little cocoon at the same time Taeyong threw his headphones to the floor and almost shouted, “I’ve felt it before.”
“Oh, hey,” the taller of the two interlopers said, not bothering to hide his confusion as he looked at Mark and then at Jungwoo before holding out his hand to Jaehyun. “Sorry to interrupt the party, J, I thought you were going to be done by 11.”
Startled and as unsettled as Jungwoo had ever seen him, Jaehyun closed the distance to shake the tall, handsome guy with the accent’s hand. “Shit, Johnny, I lost track of time,” Jaehyun said, offering a tired apologetic smile. “My bad, I was kind of distracted.”
“No worries, man, I get it,” Johnny clapped Jaehyun on the back, all smiles and a charm that Jungwoo could feel from across the room when Johnny’s gaze landed on him, his grin sharpening as he looked Jungwoo up and down and then winked. “I can see you’ve got guests.”
“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, holding his hand out to Jungwoo, who was wondering if literally everyone Jaehyun knew was a stone-cold hottie with underwear model potential. “This is Jungwoo –
The door to the recording booth slammed shut, interrupting Jaehyun’s introductions and causing the other half of the duo to wince and scowl, muttering about dramatics and lack of respect. Taeyong came into the room like a storm crashing onto shore, a gale of obvious displeasure, a tempest of emotions that Jungwoo couldn’t begin to parse. He could, however, parse the tension in Jaehyun’s shoulders when Taeyong took one look at the man who wasn’t Johnny and said:
“Kim Doyoung. What are you doing here?”
“Finishing my album, of course, sunbae,” Doyoung answered, his voice so cold that Jungwoo crept in closer to Jaehyun to protect himself from the chill.
Taeyong scoffed, the threat of rain in the corners of his eyes. “Here? Now?”
“Here. Now.” Doyoung looked over Taeyong’s shoulder at the abandoned recording booth, something awful in his gaze. “You know how much I like this studio.”
Taeyong flinched so hard that Jungwoo wished they were friendly enough that he could offer Taeyong a hug, even though he had no idea what was going on, or who Doyoung was, other than someone who had a really big problem with Taeyong.
Jungwoo caught a glimpse of Mark’s confused awe and knew that Doyoung was probably someone famous and cool that he when Mark mouthed, “Oh my god, it’s Kim Doyoung.” Jungwoo shrugged and tried to communicate, “ this is awkward as hell ,” with only his eyes, putting his hand in Jaehyun’s and hoping that maybe the slow rub of his thumb over Jaehyun’s knuckles might help Jaehyun look a little less stressed.
“Sorry we’re running behind, hyung,” Jaehyun murmured, surprising Jungwoo with the muted warmth in his voice for a man who was treating Taeyong so coldly. “The comeback is —
“You don’t need to tell him,” Taeyong said, leaning against the door, coiled up and ready to bite like a cornered animal. “I’m sure our Doyoungie already knows.” Taeyong’s gaze flicked over to Doyoung, something so pained in the downward curl of his mouth that Jungwoo wanted to take Jaehyun and Mark by the wrists and run. “He always seems to show up just when he’s not wanted.”
“Sunbae, please.” Doyoung’s unhappy laughter scraped over Jungwoo’s last nerve. “When have you ever wanted —“
“Hahahaha, speaking of not wanted,” Jungwoo forced out, aiming for cool and totally unbothered as he took a step towards the door and away from whatever the hell was about to go down. “Mark and I should get out your hair and let you do your work! Art doesn’t wait, right, hyung?” Jungwoo tugged on Jaehyun’s hand, smiling way too brightly for a scene that was getting really grim. “Come on, let’s get out of here and let them cook.”
Johnny snorted and Doyoung rolled his eyes, the tension leaking out like air from a pinhole in a balloon – slowly and unpleasantly obvious. But no one stopped Jungwoo as he pulled Jaehyun towards freedom, hoping Mark would stop being starstruck and be smart enough to follow along. Unfortunately, Jaehyun’s thing for bare feet stopped them in their tracks, forcing Jungwoo to hover awkwardly in front of Taeyong while Jaehyun slipped back into his sandals.
“It was nice to meet you,” Jungwoo said lamely, not knowing what to do with someone he barely knew but who was so obviously distressed. Once more he wished he could squeeze Taeyong’s shoulder or maybe dance a little jig to make him laugh. “The song is so beautiful, Taeyong-ssi,” Jungwoo tried instead, “I’ll be cheering for your comeback.”
“Please, call me hyung.” Taeyong gave him a watery thin smile that dissolved the second the recording door slammed shut behind Doyoung’s abrupt, not very subtle retreat. “Sorry I ruined your date,” Taeyong said, brushing his fingers over Jaehyun’s bent head and slipping out of the room claiming he needed air before Jaehyun could say another word.
”Well. That went well,” Johnny said, laughing dryly as he pulled Jaehyun up by the elbow and passed him back over to Jungwoo like he assumed he was Jungwoo’s to handle. “Go,” Johnny murmured, jerking his head towards the exit. “You know he won’t come back until Doyoung is alone.” Johnny smiled and put his hands in his pockets, sauntering over to the sound board. “You kids should enjoy yourselves. Leave the drama kings to me.”
Johnny closed the studio door behind them gently, like a normal person, leaving the three of them standing in a quiet, deserted hallway. Mark made a beeline for the bathroom, clearly not finding the hallway situation any less awkward than what they had just escaped.
“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun said, looking more despondent than Jungwoo had ever seen him, tired and pale beneath the awful white overhead lights, but no less handsome despite it all. “This isn’t how I wanted tonight to go.”
Jungwoo didn’t bother to ask how Jaehyun wanted it to go. It didn’t take much imagination to know that Jaehyun had probably wanted Taeyong to sing a love song that Jaehyun had written, uninterrupted, like it was already on the radio. He probably wanted Jungwoo alone, barefoot and swooning, charmed by the latest romantic gesture so that Jaehyun could be 3 for 8, slowly and patiently heading towards a 50-50 average when it came to Jungwoo.
Standing in an overlit hallway, Jungwoo knew that it was about time to tell the truth he had been denying for weeks – that when it came to Jungwoo, Jaehyun was 8 for 8, a 10/10, the guy that Jungwoo wanted the most.
“Don’t be sorry,” Jungwoo said, taking Jaehyun’s hand and pulling him in close, taking in the faint smudges on glasses that needed to be cleaned after a long day. “That’s life isn’t it? Work drama, friend drama, it happens. I don’t mind, because it’s yours.” Jungwoo looked up and down the hallway, finding it empty enough to press a kiss to the corner of Jaehyun’s unhappy mouth. “And the song was so good, hyung, I liked it so much, every single word.”
“Yeah?” Jaehyun asked, a little bit dazed, warmth creeping in, shades of pink on his cheeks as he tried to deepen the kiss, forever trying to go for more.
“Um, hey,” Mark cleared his throat, his laughter not entirely forced as he hovered a good three yards away, his hands in his pockets and his gaze lingering somewhere between Jungwoo’s shoulders and the ceiling. “I’m gonna find my way out, but uh, thanks for everything.” Mark offered Jaehyun the smile that had never failed to win someone over. “It was seriously amazing.”
“Anytime,” Jaehyun said, his lips still close enough to Jungwoo that Jungwoo could feel each word.
“Jungwoo, you good?” Mark asked, sounding like he was not trying very hard to not laugh.
“Go away,” Jungwoo said, waving Mark off with the hand that wasn’t currently being fondled by Jaehyun, knowing that he was going to be clowned for life when he finally went home.
Mark’s light, easy footsteps faded into the distance, leaving Jungwoo leaning up against a wall in XX Entertainment with one of the company’s producers kissing his cheek and touching his bare stomach with cold fingertips.
“You don’t want to go with him?” Jaehyun murmured, his lips on Jungwoo’s temple, waiting to be told where to go.
Jungwoo knew that this was usually the moment when he left, when he kissed Jaehyun goodbye or goodnight and backed away from the ledge, retreating to safety. He could feel Jaehyun bracing himself for it, the hand slipping off his tummy, the kiss moving away.
“No,” Jungwoo said, “There’s still something I need to tell you.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” Jaehyun’s laughter was low and quiet, the press of his palm and the warmth of his breath enough to make Jungwoo feel like they were the only two people in the world, the look in his eyes intimate and sweet like an afternoon on a beach, playful like putting shoes on Jungwoo’s feet, wanting like a first meeting in a dingy bar.
“The thought I’ve been holding,” Jungwoo whispered, even though there was no one around, even though they were standing on linoleum floors beneath fluorescent lights, still wanting to meet Jaehyun beat for beat, to play along to a song only they could hear.
“Tell me.”
Jungwoo took a breath and stepped up to the edge, toes on the line he hadn’t been ready to cross. Jaehyun looked at him, always looking, waiting to take Jungwoo’s hand and be told it was time to jump.
“Hyung,” Jungwoo said, bringing Jaehyun’s hand to his lips just to watch Jaehyun blush. “Do you –”
Jungwoo paused, thinking about what Yuta had told him once, that first morning after their first meeting, about men like Jaehyun. Jungwoo thought about how hard Jaehyun tried to make him happy, to guess at all the things he wanted and liked while Jungwoo pretended not to know what Jaehyun wanted in return. If he was going to do this, if he was going to try, it was time to stop pretending, time to go 8 for 8 when it came to Jaehyun.
Smiling, watching Jaehyun watch him, Jungwoo scraped his teeth over Jaehyun’s knuckles and stepped both feet over the line. “Oppa. Take me home with you.”