Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yeonwoo was talking, but Yoohan would be a liar if he said he knew what he was saying. 

It was like one of those moments in a movie where time slowed down. Yeonwoo’s voice was far off, distant, his movements slow as he pointed at one of the many pictures he had laid out on the table. Yoohan was supposed to be looking at them, trying to learn how to differentiate between different people’s facial structures, but how could he concentrate when he had Yeonwoo in front of him?

When Yeonwoo was in front of him, he could see how beautiful he was. Perhaps it was their bond as mono and probe, but something about how his eyes and nose and lips were placed upon his face seemed so much more ethereal than everyone else. It was as if Yeonwoo was an angel fallen from the sky to live amongst the dull mortals that made up the rest of the planet.

In a lineup, Yoohan wondered if he would be able to pick out Yeonwoo. A part of him hoped he would, another part of him knew he’d likely have trouble. He’d come to memorize his scent and his eyes during a color rush would always be permanently placed in his mind, but Yoohan knew that as hard as he tried to memorize the distance between his eyes, the length of his nose, or the shape of his lips, eventually that would all disappear from his mind. Show him a photograph of Yeonwoo next to another person with the same colored hair, and Yoohan probably wouldn’t know which was which.

“You’re supposed to be paying attention.” Yeonwoo sighed, dropping a page torn from a magazine onto the coffee table in front of them. “I thought you wanted me to help you learn faces?”

“You are.” Yoohan assured, smiling behind his mask before he leaned in close, his hand pressed between the two of them on the couch. Yeonwoo looked at him, his eyes slightly wide as he leaned away.

“W-what are you doing?” Yeonwoo asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He somewhat succeeded. Yoohan could practically hear his heart thumping in his chest and it made him happy to know the kind of effect he had on his mono. 

“Studying your face.” He answered, his eyes drinking in the sight of the other. Yoohan wondered if Yeonwoo would let him take a picture so that he could continue studying him when he was alone. 

Yeonwoo gave him a look, pointing at the table. “You’re supposed to be studying those faces, not mine. You know mine.”

Yoohan let out a long sigh and leaned forward, resting his forehead against his mono’s shoulder. He could feel Yeonwoo stiffen beneath him, but if he minded, he didn’t let it known, letting Yoohan rest there. It caused a warm fluttering to start within his chest.

“I walked passed you today and didn’t even realize until Joohaeng told me later…” Yoohan murmured.

“Huh? You did?” Yeonwoo sounded surprised and Yoohan whined, nodding against the other teenager. Yeonwoo let out his own sigh and then Yoohan felt a hand press down into his shoulder blade, patting lightly as if to try to comfort him. 

Yoohan took in a deep breath, trying to take in his scent from behind his mask. If this was how Yeonwoo comforted him, perhaps Yoohan should act upset more often. 

“Okay, well let’s at least try. Come on.” Yeonwoo grasped Yoohan, gently pushing him up into a sitting position. Yoohan tried his hardest not to budge, but eventually gave up when Yeonwoo shot him a glare and he decided to go along with what his mono said, not wanting to make him too upset. 

Yeonwoo grabbed two pictures off of the coffee table and held them up. “You’ll know this one. I just showed it to you. Which one is the president?”

Yoohan shifted to turn more towards him, staring at the pictures of two older men. He looked between both pictures, narrowing his brows in thought. “You’re screwing with me right? They’re both clearly the same person.”

Yeonwoo glanced at the pictures then back at Yoohan. “One is a picture of your grandpa that I had you send me…” 

The probe groaned, shaking his head before running his fingers through his hair. He could feel the headache forming. He was already tired of looking at these faces. He much preferred to stare at Yeonwoo’s. His didn’t give him a headache, in fact, Yoohan could look at Yeonwoo’s face all day.

He grabbed at the papers, tossing them to the ground. Yeonwoo blinked, going to scold him, but before he could, Yoohan pressed his hands into the mono’s shoulders and pushed him back down into the couch and crawled on top of him. He watched as Yeonwoo’s eyes widened so beautifully, a rosey pink flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. 

Yoohan tilted his head, just watching as Yeonwoo stumbled over whatever he was trying to say, until he finally decided to just rest his hands on Yoohan’s wrists, gripping them as he tried to set up. Yoohan just pressed down harder until Yeonwoo was sinking into the cushions of the couch, a huge sigh escaping his lips as he seemingly gave up trying to push Yoohan off.

This pleased him and he leaned down, nuzzling his head into the crook of his mono’s neck, breathing in deeply to try and get even the smallest scent from Yeonwoo’s skin.

“Go Yoohan…” Yeonwoo scolded, but it sounded more like a murmur as he rested his hand on Yoohan’s waist, his fingers squeezing. Yeonwoo would never say, but Yoohan knew he liked this, being held down like this and clung to. If he didn’t, he’d be more forceful about getting Yoohan off, he’d done it before, but instead his arm lightly rested around the small of his back, just loose enough so that he wasn’t really holding Yoohan to him. Plausible deniability in case Yoohan wanted to tease him about enjoying this. 

“I still can’t believe you’re mine…” Yoohan murmurs into his neck, his fingers trailing over Yeonwoo’s jawline, over the smooth, warm skin that made up his person. 

“A person can’t belong to a person… they’re not property.” Yeonwoo replied weakly and Yoohan knew it was because Yeonwoo already knew how he’d reply. Yoohan decides to spare him this time. They both already know that Yeonwoo belongs to him. 

But this relationship was equal because Yoohan happily belonged to Yeonwoo as well. 

“I’m so happy…” Yoohan murmured, tightening his grip around his mono as he curled further against his chest. Yeonwoo relaxed beneath him, his arms finally wrapping fully around him to hold him back. “I’m so happy that I found you.”

With his ear pressed practically to Yeonwoo’s chest, Yoohan could hear the skipping of the other boy’s heart at words, and it made him never want to let Yeonwoo go, never want to let him out of his sight.

“I think I found you, actually.” Yeonwoo said softly, his voice barely a whisper in the silent room. 

And Yoohan smiled because this must be what love felt like.

Chapter Text

Yeonwoo had missed people before. 

He had missed his father after he died. There’d been an ache in his chest for months. It had gotten to the point that Yeonwoo had thought it might never go away. Some days it was still there, joined by a second ache of his mother disappearing. He still remembered the nights he had spent curled up in bed beneath his covers, sobbing his eyes out, watching his gray blankets turn black with the teardrops.

At least after his father, he had had his mother to comfort him. She would pull him onto his lap and stroke his back and kiss the crown of his head and tell him that everything was going to be alright. He had been able to hear the pain in her voice and wondered briefly if she believed it, but he trusted his mother. If she said it was going to be alright, then everything would be alright.

Except she disappeared and nothing was alright ever again.

Now present day, Yeonwoo was months away from graduation and he sat on the couch with the Mnet channel turned on, counting down the minutes for Yoohan’s debut show. And there was an ache in his chest as the opening VCR started and Yoohan’s face flashed across the screen, not long enough to cause a color rush, but long enough for Yeonwoo to yearn.

Was this part of the mono/probe connection? Or was it because he had genuinely come to care for Yoohan? Some days he still tried to deny just how much he cared, but he knew he was kidding himself.

If given the choice he’d choose to spend every day with Yoohan than without. 

However, he wasn’t given a choice and now, as he watched, Yoohan was on stage with four other boys, singing and dancing as if his life depended on it. Yeonwoo had always looked at Yoohan and thought he matched what he had always thought an idol should look like, but he had never gotten to witness him on stage and he shined . 

Perhaps it was the light color rush he was experiencing through the television, but Yoohan sparkled whenever the camera was on him. He demanded attention on stage and he was talented. It was as if he had made the stage his home, like it was the most comfortable place in the world to be.

Was it weird to be jealous of a stage?

Probably, but the sight of it still made Yeonwoo clench his fingers into the pants-leg of his pajama bottoms. He wondered if Yoohan was as comfortable with him as he was on stage. Yeonwoo certainly didn’t feel like he was that comfortable around Yoohan, so maybe it was similar for him.

It’s not that he disliked being around Yoohan, but Yoohan created strange feelings within him, ones that Yeonwoo had never expected to feel before. There was warmth mixed with uneasiness, a tingling that started in the pit of his stomach and spread throughout his entire body using his blood vessels as ships through the oceans that were his veins. 

Was this what love felt like? 

He wasn’t sure who to ask. His aunt rarely dated, and he felt weird talking to her about his probe. She was still wary at the idea of him being around his probe at all, and Yeonwoo couldn’t blame her. There’d been times when dark thoughts had crossed his mind, but just as quickly as they surfaced, they dissipated and Yeonwoo could pretend they hadn’t been there at all.

Even if the uneasy feeling in his stomach never truly went away.

And certainly not now as he watched Yoohan laughing with his group mates, looking at them with sparkling eyes. These people were to basically become his family for the next seven or so years. 

Yeonwoo would hardly get to see him.

Yoohan had told him that wouldn’t be the case, he’d do his best to see Yeonwoo as much as possible because he couldn’t live without him either, but Yeonwoo wasn’t stupid. He knew how these things worked.

And it had been nearly two weeks since Yeonwoo had seen Yoohan in person as Yoohan had been too busy with the final preparations for his debut. 

And Yeonwoo was proud --truly, he was, but there was still a part of him that wanted to reach into the television screen and pull Yoohan out, begging him to give it up so that they would never have to be away from each other.

The scariest part was that he was fairly certain Yoohan would give it all up if he asked. But Yeonwoo never would. He could never be that selfish.

-

The knock came in the middle of the night. At first he thought it might be his aunt, having forgotten her key, but then Yeonwoo remembered she would be gone, chasing a story for at least another week. 

Months ago, he never would’ve gotten up to answer it, but now as he stumbled from his room and to the front door, his heart pounded in his chest because it could only be one person. And when he pulled the door open, he was proved right and he opened his mouth to speak, but the masked teenager raised his hand, covering his mouth with his palm and slowly stepped inside, forcing Yeonwoo backwards.

Yoohan didn’t take his eyes (showing just a sliver from between his mask and hood of his winter coat) off of him as he stepped inside. He toed off his shoes as Yeonwoo swallowed his heart that had jumped into his throat upon seeing him.

He wanted to ask what he was doing here, but the hand over his mouth didn’t give him a chance.

“Don’t say anything.” Yoohan murmured, his voice quiet and thick and slowly he lifted his hand from his lips, only to raise it to cover Yeonwoo’s eyes, who automatically got the point. 

He closed his eyes and heard shuffling. Yoohan’s coat dropped to the floor and then a moment later, a mouth was covering his and Yeonwoo was left gasping into it, breathless and desperate as he clung to his probe. Yoohan’s hand still covered his eyes, but he didn’t mind one bit, trusting Yoohan to lead him back towards his bedroom. 

Yoohan wouldn’t let anything happen to him. It didn’t make sense, but Yeonwoo trusted him inexplicably. Yoohan always had his best interests at heart, and it was clear that he had missed Yeonwoo as much as Yeonwoo had missed him.

Chapter Text

Yoohan felt as if someone had shoved their entire arm straight into his chest and set his innards on fire. The pencil in his hand stabbed into his notebook, causing Joohaeng to jump in his seat where he sat across from him, looking at him in concern. But Joohaeng’s concern didn’t matter to him. What mattered to Yoohan was the fact that Yeonwoo was sitting with some other guy, laughing quietly as they looked through their science book just a few tables over from them in the library.

They’d been assigned a project and sorted into pairs. By some magic luck, Yoohan had managed to get Joohaeng, which was at least some sort of blessing because it’s not like he knew anyone else other than him, Minjae, and Yeonwoo in the class. 

He had quietly hoped that Yeonwoo would be paired with Minjae but when Minjae’s name was called and Yeonwoo’s wasn’t, Yoohan had felt his heart drop. Yeonwoo would be with someone outside their circle? Some random person that Yoohan didn’t even really know or trust to be around his mono? How was this right?

And now Yeonwoo was sitting with the guy, laughing over something and smiling at each other and Yoohan wanted to storm over there and pull Yoohan away. He wanted to cause a scene and tell the guy to stay away from his mono--he couldn’t have him. Yeonwoo belonged to him and him alone. He was his probe for fuck’s sake!

He probably would’ve a few times too, if Joohaeng didn’t grab him every single time before he could even stand up. The feeling of being restrained just made him clench the pencil in his hand even harder.

“You’re going to break it.” Joohaeng tried to tell him, but Yoohan didn’t care.

“Break him.” Yoohan glared across the room as the guy actually had the gall to touch his Yeonwoo.

Yoohan didn’t consider himself to be a person who got angry easily, but things were different when it came to Yeonwoo. He could never be angry at him, but the sight of another person (not Minjae or Joohaeng) acting so familiar with him, touching him, it created a burning rage that flowed through his veins. When he saw that, he wanted to take Yeonwoo and put him somewhere that only he had access to.

He knew it was ridiculous, but it was how he felt.

“You know they’re just working on a project, it’s really not a big deal--”

“Oh, that’s too much.” Yoohan growled, his eyes narrowed into slits as the boy reached up, touching Yeonwoo’s hair and before Joohaeng could stop him, he stood, slamming his pencil into the table and marched over to the table his mono and the mono stealer sat laughing together.

He came up behind them, feeling himself shaking in his anger and jealousy. As he walked up, he noticed that the boy had a distinctive ear piercing, a cuff at the top of his left ear and he filed that away for future reference--something to remember him by. 

Yoohan pushed a smile onto his face beneath his mask and kneeled down between them, arm coming up to wrap around Yeonwoo’s shoulders, stopping their conversation short. 

“How’s the project coming?” He asked, looking expectantly between them. Yeonwoo shot him a displeased look as their classmate looked surprised and confused at the sudden intrusion of Go Yoohan, the school’s resident idol in training.

“It’s going fine. Shouldn’t you be working on your project with Joohaeng?” Yeonwoo asked, tossing a glance over his shoulder to where Joohaeng was likely watching them. 

“I’ll go back in a minute.” Yoohan replied, turning to the other boy. “I’m sorry--I’m really bad with faces. What’s your name?”

The boy blinked at him, raising a hand to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. “Kim Heejun.” Heejun answered, his voice a lot quieter than Yoohan had expected it to. It was good that he was nervous like this, it meant he knew. 

Yoohan kept watching him, even as he spoke to Yeonwoo. “I just wanted to check on you and see if we’re still on for later.” Yoohan turned his head after he finished speaking, looking at his mono expectantly.

“Of course we are.” Yeonwoo answered, looking as if he wanted the world to swallow him as Yoohan reached up, running his fingers through his hair. “Yoohan… go back to your table.”

“I’ll go back.” Yoohan sent a sharp look to Heejun before leaning in close to Yeonwoo, his lips just barely brushing the outer-shell of his ear. “Don’t let him touch you.” He murmured, feeling the shiver that Yeonwoo gave in reply. Yoohan pulled back and met his eyes and Yeonwoo gave the barest of nods before gesturing back towards Joohaeng.

Yoohan gave him a smile and stood, happily going back to his table. He collapsed down into his chair and grabbed his pencil, tapping it against his notebook. If Joohaeng was speaking to him, he didn’t notice, too busy watching as Yeonwoo shifted his chair a little further away from Heejun, and for the rest of the hour, no other touches were exchanged.

Good boy.

-

Yoohan wasn’t ever one to be aggressive or make threats. He just wasn’t that kind of person, never had been. Growing up he was sweet, nice. Though he had trouble making friends, it wasn’t that people really disliked him, but he distanced himself from everyone except Joohaeng and eventually Minjae and Yeonwoo, because it was just easier to have a few close friends whom he actually knew, rather than a lot of casual ones where he didn’t know who he was talking to about two-thirds of the time.

But there was something about Yeonwoo that had a possessive streak that Yoohan had never even known existed spilling out as if he were an oil can leaking into the ocean. His skin had tingled with jealousy at the sight of the touches between Heejun and Yeonwoo. 

If he thought about it, they probably didn’t mean anything. But if he thought about it some more, not even Joohaeng and Minjae touched Yeonwoo like that. They knew that touching was reserved for Yoohan and Yoohan alone. It didn’t even need to be said. 

And this was why, when he caught sight of that very distinctive piercing entering the restroom, Yoohan quickly followed. It took only the briefest of moments to confirm that no one else was in there, and before Heejun could enter a stall, Yoohan grabbed hold of his jacket and pushed him against the opposite wall.

“H-hey…!” Heejun gasped, his face one of fright as Yoohan gripped at the collar of his jacket, stepping as close as he could without actually touching him any other way.

“What do you want with Yeonwoo?” He asked, his eyes narrowed and locked on Heejun’s face.

“What?” He sputtered out, shaking his head quickly. “Nothing! We’re just partners for the projects. Maybe friends? That’s it--”

“You kept touching him.” Yoohan pointed out, not believing this guy’s words for a moment. His heart was thumping in his chest, but unlike the times with Yeonwoo, this one was of adrenaline and anger that someone would dare try to get between him and his mono. 

“Kept touching…? Look he had some fuzz in his hair, I was doing him a favor by getting it out! And sure, we were kind of joking because we got along and found we had some things in common but god--I don’t like guys that way, okay?”

Yoohan clenched his left fist, his right on Heejun’s collar still not loosening. He didn’t believe him. Despite the desperation in his voice to be believed, Yoohan didn’t believe him. “Everyone would like Yeonwoo that way. He’s Yeonwoo, he’s perfect.”

“Maybe as a friend! But okay--look, I’ll just finish the project with him and then stay away from him, okay? I don’t want any trouble…” Yoohan stared, his eyes flickering over his face, trying to decide if he can believe him. 

“Fine. But if I see you make a move on him or touch him in any way…” he let the threat hang, because he really didn’t know how to make a threat. He didn’t even know what he would do. He just didn’t want anyone to touch what was his.

“Okay, fine, deal. I won’t touch him or anything like that ever again.” Heejun told him quickly and a moment later Yoohan let the boy go. He quickly brushed passed him, leaving the bathroom entirely instead of sticking around to use it.

Yoohan let out a breath, feeling himself trembling slightly from the pure adrenaline rush that had created. A moment later, he walked out of the bathroom.

And directly into Yeonwoo who was staring at him, anger written on his face. 

“Yeonwoo--” Yoohan blinked, but his mono shook his head and turned, going to walk away.

Yoohan reached forward, grabbing Yeonwoo’s wrist, but the other boy tugged it free, turning to glare at him. “What was that?” He asked, pointing towards the bathroom. “I heard what you were saying. You were threatening someone to stay away from me? Yoohan… what right do you have?”

“It was for your protection!” Yoohan insisted, stepping closer, desperation heavy in his voice as he reached for his mono. Yeonwoo began pulling away again, but eventually gave up, letting Yoohan grasp at his hands. “And I have every right when someone is trying to move in on something that’s mine.”

“How many times do we have to go over this…” Yeonwoo sighed and then glanced around. “Just because we’re mono and probe--”

“We’re fated.” 

Yeonwoo shot him a look at the interruption. “Just because we’re… fated doesn’t mean you can claim me.” 

A small smile spread across Yoohan’s face as he stepped closer, taking delight in the way Yeonwoo’s eyes widened and his breath hitched at their sudden closeness. 

“You like it when I claim you.” Yoohan said softly, reaching his hand up to brush his fingers beneath Yeonwoo’s chin. He watched as Yeonwoo’s eyes became heavy at the caress, watched as his pink lips parted and the tip of his tongue swiped out to wet them. If they weren’t in school, Yoohan would pull his mask down and lean in to taste. “See? Look at how you’re reacting.” He leaned in, pressing their cheeks together so his mouth, even through the mask, was perfectly in line with his ear.

“You like knowing that you belong to me. You like others knowing that you belong to me…” He slid his hands along Yeonwoo’s waist, gripping at it as the mono took in a sharp breath, stumbling slightly where he stood, as if he had suddenly gotten dizzy. 

Yoohan wrapped his arms tighter around Yeonwoo’s frame, holding him as close as possible, one hand trailing up the length of his spine to rest in his hair. “Tell me you like it when I claim you. My mono... tell me you like that you belong to me and I’ll show you something wonderful later.”

Yeonwoo’s breathing stuttered against Yoohan’s ear, causing a ticklish sensation to travel throughout his body. “I like it.” Yeonwoo finally murmured, his voice so sweet to Yoohan’s ears that it was practically honey. “I like being claimed by you.”

The probe pulled back, his arms still loosely wrapped around his mono’s waist, staring at the heavily lidded eyes of Yeonwoo. “I know you do. My good mono. My good boy.” Yoohan leaned in, pressing the tips of their noses together, the closest to a kiss that they could come for now. 

But there was always later.

Chapter Text

The first time Yeonwoo had been given a business card for an entertainment company, he promptly threw it in the trash.

He just wasn’t interested. That was usually pretty shocking to people because, according to his friends and even his aunt and mother, he looked like the sort of boy who would go on to be an idol, before eventually branching out into acting. Yeonwoo just didn’t get why people saw that. When had he ever given anybody the notion that he was remotely interested in that sort of thing?

The second time a talent scout had come up to him, he’d been mildly more interested in hearing what they had to say, but he still had no plans to go through it. So he took the business card and when he got home he tossed it on his desk and completely forgot about it. 

His mom said she thought he should give it a try. He’d always been a really great singer and he was such a good person--a boy like him would be exactly what the industry needed. Yeonwoo wondered if all would-be idol’s moms were as supportive as his. Maybe she was trying to make up for the fact his father had passed away just a few years before, when he was twelve. 

They always said third time is the charm, and when Yeonwoo got that third business card at sixteen years old, he hung onto it. For days he stared at the name and number, wondering why he shouldn’t give this a try. It couldn’t hurt anything right? Except maybe their pockets if it didn’t work out. But there was nothing that he said he couldn’t check it out and see.

And that’s how he came to stand in the trainee practice room of an agency ranked somewhere in the upper middle class, as far as agencies go. Nowhere near the likes of SM or BigHit, but an agency with a name for themselves like Pledis, and a better reputation than Cube. There was a fair shot they’d be at least mildly successful, just from their company alone.

Yeonwoo had to admit, that did make him feel a little bit better about his choice. 

He was one of sixteen when he started and he couldn’t help but feel uneasy when all of them looked at him as if they saw a threat. He heard a few murmurs, talking about him. He was picked up off the street? Can he even sing or dance?

He could sing. His dancing left much to be desired and the others were already far better than him on that front, especially the one called Yoohan, who, according to many of the other boys, was a lock for main dancer. Not leader or anything like that, but definitely main dancer and when Yeonwoo watched him dance, he could see why.

Yoohan had the fluidity and skills of someone who had been dancing for years and the charisma of someone who knew it. He had a star quality to him that many of the others lacked (and he was right, because within just a few months, they were down to thirteen).

It also helped that he was nice, if not a bit reserved, but Yeonwoo hadn’t talked to him, not really, not much more beyond a few passing words. A few of the boys were friends, most of the boys saw each other as competition. 

It didn’t really look like Yoohan was friends with any of them, however. 

When Yeonwoo left the studio, Yoohan would usually still be there, staring at himself in a mirror as he practiced, working hard at moves that Yeonwoo felt he already had on lock. Yeonwoo wondered what gave him so much drive and desire to work this hard, harder than most of the others, harder than him.

He usually went home thinking about it. 

It was one such day that Yeonwoo found himself lingering a bit longer. He could hear the rain pounding against the roof and pavement outside, but the music that blasted through the studio in part drowned it out and Yeonwoo was left leaning against the frame of the door, just staring as Yoohan danced.

He had a mask on his face. It was something he always wore and Yeonwoo wondered if he didn’t have difficulty breathing. This mask was black, but dark and thin purple lines expanded throughout the fabric in random directions as if they were the roots of a tree. His sweat matted hair clung to his forehead and he wore a bright orange tank-top that brushed the top of his black sweats that hung low on his hips.

Yoohan stopped dancing, but the music continued to play on even as he stepped over to the mirror and grabbed a water bottle. Yeonwoo watched as he drank, watched the way as droplets escaped his lips and trailed down his jaw and neck, clinging to his skin. He re-capped the bottle and set it down and grabbed the end of his shirt, lifting it to use to wipe his face free of the sweat.

Yeonwoo swallowed tightly, averting his eyes at the sight of his bare stomach. Yoohan looked rather thin with his clothes, but he was strong and muscular and Yeonwoo wanted to ignore the strange tingling he felt at the sight of this.

“Are you just going to stand there?” 

Yeonwoo jumped at the question and looked back into the practice room, his heart pounding heavily in his chest as he saw Yoohan staring at him, eyes dark from beneath his dark hair and over his just as equally dark mask.

Even with the bright color of his top, something about Yoohan still screamed dark and it made Yeonwoo nervous. 

“Sorry,” Yeonwoo said quickly, trying not to stumble over his words. “I was--you’re a good dancer.” He said instead of trying to explain why he was staring. Really, he couldn’t explain without sounding weird, he felt. He was just… admiring. 

Yoohan stared at him for a moment. “Thanks,” He told him, and Yeonwoo really could hear the thankfulness in his voice. “I wish I could say the same, but I don’t know who you are.”

Yeonwoo felt himself bristle, somewhat annoyed because they had been practicing together for months after all, but before he could say anything in return, Yoohan quickly took a few steps forward.

“Wait, before you get mad--I just mean I’m bad at faces.” He explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s this entire thing… you probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I really can’t tell the difference between faces unless there’s something really unique like a scar… or hair color.”

“Oh.” Yeonwoo blinked at the explanation. It was strange, but it made sense and Yoohan seemed truthful, so he didn’t have any reason to not believe him. “I’m Choi Yeonwoo.”

“You’re the one who just joined a few months ago, right?” Yoohan asked, closing the distance to the point that Yeonwoo had to take a step back. “I think we’ve talked a couple of times? I can’t be too sure.” 

“Not much.” Yeonwoo told him. “You’re much better at that than me.”

“Dancing?” Yoohan blinked before giving a small laugh. “Well, I’ve been doing it longer.” He looks back in towards the training room before turning back to Yeonwoo. “Do you want me to show you a little?”

He had been about to head home, exhausted from the long day of practice, but as he looked at Yoohan’s eyes, sparkling with excitement, he felt he didn’t even have a choice. 

“Sure.”

-

It was a fairly dangerous path that he and Yoohan were on. Yeonwoo knew this. He knew this especially well as Yoohan pressed him into a wall in an alcove, one where the company’s cameras didn’t have eyes.

His heart was pounding so hard he could hear his own blood rushing. When he breathed, the air from his lungs mixed with Yoohan’s who was staring at him, eyes so dark and heavy. Yoohan had pulled his mask down and Yeonwoo hated himself for how much he kept thinking, god he’s beautiful .

They’d been announced that they were going to debut within just a few months. They were to be a seven member group and a new contract would need to be signed, one that labeled them as artists for the company for the next seven years. It was great news, news that Yoohan had been waiting years for, but all Yeonwoo could think about was the fact he gets to keep Yoohan with him for at least another seven years. 

And also that this was dangerous. Their lips were hovering over each other’s and they both knew that if they were to be caught, it would all end and Yeonwoo didn’t care about that for himself, but he cared about it for Yoohan who had told him it had always been his dream to be an idol.

But he couldn’t pull away and put a stop to this because he felt dizzy. Yoohan was pressing him into the wall and without his support, Yeonwoo thought he might fall over from how weak his knees felt.

Yoohan always had this effect on him, no matter how much Yeonwoo tried to fight it. He was intoxicating, like a drug that was injected into his veins, and without him, Yeonwoo thought he might wither away to nothing. 

When had this shift in their relationship occurred? He wasn’t quite sure. One day they’d been training like normal, Yoohan giving him extra dance lessons and Yeonwoo found he quite liked spending time around him. He began wearing a distinctive bracelet that Yoohan gave him, so that Yoohan could always know who he was. And then suddenly there were lingering glances and touches and breathless whispers against the ear and one day when Yoohan was walking home with him, he pulled him into an alley and kissed him as if his life-source were coming from Yeonwoo’s lips.

Yeonwoo had stared at him in confusion and shock when they broke apart, his own rapid breathing and heartbeat filling the space between them. He watched as Yoohan’s expression seemed to break into horror and he could just imagine the thoughts that were crossing Yoohan’s mind in that moment. Thoughts that Yeonwoo didn’t want Yoohan to think, so without even stopping to think for himself, he grabbed Yoohan and pulled him into another kiss.

And then everything was a mix of dance and singing practice and stolen kisses when no one was looking. The touch of Yoohan’s hand against his arm was enough to set Yeonwoo’s blood on fire and it was so dangerous .

But he was already addicted and there was no stopping it. 

Not even now. Their debut was inching closer and soon they’d be in the public eye and something like this could ruin them, but Yeonwoo couldn’t find it in himself to care, not as the addictive taste of Yoohan’s lips lingered on his lips, even after he had pulled away. 

And they both stared at each other, breathing heavily in the alcove of the company’s hall. They could hear people talking and chatting and singing from all around them. Both he and Yoohan knew that this was something that should probably end.

But he also knew that this was something neither he nor Yoohan were willing to stop. And Yeonwoo was fine with that.

Chapter Text

It was a strange sort of arrangement they had going on. To this day, Yeonwoo still didn’t really understand what Yoohan got out of it. They’d known each other since high school and Yeonwoo supposed they could be called “friends” since back then, although that was more because Yoohan didn’t know how to take no for an answer. The moment Yeonwoo showed up at that school, Yoohan had clung to him.

Joohaeng and Minjae had told him that was strange. Yoohan rarely took to anyone, let alone so quickly. 

“Maybe he likes you.” They teased and Yeonwoo would shake his head and roll his eyes. Like him? What nonsense. There was nothing at all to like about Yeonwoo. 

The moment Yeonwoo turned eighteen, he was out of his aunt’s house. She argued about it, telling him that they were family and he could live with her for as long as he wanted, but he rebutted the offer, determined to make his own way. His aunt had done enough for him over the last few years, and she was always so busy. He hated taking her time and money, when he was old enough to fend for himself.

So he moved out into a small apartment and got two jobs. One at a coffee shop and one at a small, family operated restaurant that served traditional Korean food. It wasn’t much, but together they managed to allow Yeonwoo to live. But it was a struggle, and without college, he knew that this would all he ever amount to.

Not like Yoohan who was in school for design. Yeonwoo often admired him. He had such an eye for color and pattern. He was going places. 

But his parents didn’t seem to much like Yoohan’s career path. They wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer or a businessman, Yoohan told him once, rolling his eyes so hard Yeonwoo almost thought they were going to fall out of his head.

Their relationship strained and it got to the point that Yoohan started doing things on purpose to piss them off. Yeonwoo, whose parents were both long since dead, couldn’t imagine doing something like that, but it wasn’t his business so he decided to stay out of it.

At least until he lost his job at the restaurant. Business just wasn’t doing well enough and they had to cut down on staff and do it themselves. Yeonwoo understood, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth as he wondered what he was going to do about rent. 

“Why don’t you be my boyfriend?” Yoohan suggested to him and Yeonwoo choked on his food that he had been shoveling into his mouth. “Just my fake one!” Yoohan further explained. “My parents will be so pissed off that I’m further messing up my life--and I’ll pay you.”

So Yeonwoo accepted because he really needed the money. It was easy money. All he had to do was let Yoohan introduce to his parents that they were dating, and maybe once in a while hold his hand. 

Despite the flush that took over his entire body and the way his heart quickened at the touching, it was a fairly easy job. And the pay was good.

At least until he could find a new job, a better paying job. Which he did.

“You want to stop?” Yoohan asked, his eyes wide and voice shocked when Yeonwoo broke the news to him. He didn’t need Yoohan to pay him to be his fake boyfriend anymore. He could afford living without the money Yoohan paid him--hell, he could afford to quit his second job now with this new one. 

Yeonwoo gave a small nod, picking up a slice of pizza on the coffee table in front of them. Yoohan had come over for “date night”, which usually always just consisted of the two of them hanging out, watching movies and eating take-out. “It was always going to end eventually, and do you really need to piss your parents off any more? In fact, last time I saw them, they smiled at me and said hi. Sort of…” The smile was more like a tight-lipped grimace, but it was a step.

Yoohan stared at his pizza on his plate in silence. It took a moment before Yeonwoo even realized that Yoohan had never said anything in reply.

“Are you okay?” He asked lightly, shifting a little closer in order to see Yoohan’s face.

The other man shrugged him away and pushed his plate onto the table. “You didn’t even tell me you were thinking about breaking up.” 

Yeonwoo gave a small blink. “Breaking up? Yoohan, we’re not actually dating.” As he said it, Yoohan met his eyes and Yeonwoo all of a sudden felt guilt well-up inside of him at the sight of their sad shine.

What was this feeling? Why was he feeling as if he was doing something wrong? Of course they were going to “break up” eventually. They couldn’t pretend forever.

“You really never figured it out, huh?” Yoohan asked, his voice full of disbelief. 

“Figured out what?” Yeonwoo’s head pounded from both confusion and the sudden sick feeling in his stomach. He too pushed his plate onto the table, wondering if maybe an ingredient had possibly been spoiled. 

But Yoohan merely stared at him before he shook his head and stood. Yeonwoo quickly reached out to grab his wrist but Yoohan shook him off. “I’m not going to stay here and explain something to you that you should already understand.” Yoohan told him and before Yeonwoo could even figure out how to reply, his friend had grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

-

Missing someone created this strange ache in a person’s chest, that’s what Yeonwoo realized over the next few weeks.

Not that he hadn’t ever missed anyone before. He had missed his father and then his mother when they both died, but even that felt different, because he knew they weren’t coming back.

The ache he felt from missing Yoohan was different because he knew that Yoohan was out there, ignoring his calls, his messages, and Yoohan had never done that before. It made Yeonwoo want to both throw his phone at the wall and break down into tears. 

He hadn’t realized before how much he’d come to need Yoohan’s presence by his side. Somewhere along the way, their friendship had grown into a dependency, at least on Yeonwoo’s part. He couldn’t help but wonder if Yoohan felt it too--but since Yoohan hadn’t talked to him in about two weeks, he supposed not.

Which was why he was here, drinking alone in a bar, which is something that Yeonwoo didn’t do often. The few times he had drank, he had been with at least Yoohan, if not also Joohaeng and Minjae. But he could use it now to try and rid himself of the yearning ache within his chest.

It wasn’t working, but at least it was worth the shot. 

Disappointed, he paid his tab and pushed himself from his seat at the bar. He stepped back only to be jolted forward again as he stepped back into something solid.

“I’m sorry!” Yeonwoo stated, quickly turning to see the annoyed man who had sloshed his drink all over his shirt due to Yeonwoo bumping into him. The man took his hand, shaking it, alcohol flinging from his fingers.

“Sorry? Look what you did! Shit--this shirt was expensive too…” 

Yeonwoo took in a breath as he watched the man, older and a lot bigger than him, look himself over. It wasn’t even that much alcohol and honestly probably wouldn’t be hard to clean, but he was clearly making a bigger deal of it on purpose. And people were watching. He could feel their eyes burning into his skull. 

“Well?” The man asked expectantly, looking at him almost pointedly. “Aren’t you going to say anything or offer to pay for it?”

“That’s…” he looked at the shirt again. The fabric was smooth and luxurious looking; it probably cost more than Yeonwoo could afford to replace, but there was no way it couldn’t be cleaned with the little amount that had spilled, mainly on the man’s sleeve. “A really good cleaner can easily get that out--”

“Oh, I see how it is. You think you can get away with bumping into me and ruining something of mine huh?” The man stepped closer, his breath thick with the smell of alcohol. It caused Yeonwoo to hold his own, flinching when fingers grabbed at the collar of his shirt.

He’d gotten into his share of fights back in school. Kids were cruel and they often teased him of his situation. It was how he had ended up going to Yoohan’s school. But that didn’t mean he was very good at it, and he knew he couldn’t take this guy on.

“That’s enough!” The bartender called. “No fighting in here or I’ll have to call the police.”

“Did you hear that?” The man asked, giving him a small smirk. “Let’s take this outside then.”

A minute later, Yeonwoo was shoved into the stone wall of the back of the bar and he groaned, an ache in his shoulder quickly forming. He knew tomorrow it’d be purple and wasn’t looking forward to it.

“You brats always think you can get away with shit…” The man cursed, spitting at the ground next to them, his hand clenching into a fist. Yeonwoo took in a breath and steeled himself. He would fight back if he needed to, but he also knew it would probably be the safest bet to just try to ready himself for the impact of a punch as much as possible. 

“Hey!” A voice called from behind the guy, but before either of them could even look, the man was pushed onto the ground, a figure slamming his fist his face.

“Yoohan!” Yeonwoo gasped, stumbling back a bit at the sight. Yoohan panted, standing from the ground as the man groaned. Even from the distance, he could see Yoohan’s knuckles red and bloody.

“You okay?” Yoohan asked, looking at him in concern, but before Yeonwoo could answer, the stranger had gotten up and tossed Yoohan onto the ground, his foot ramming into his stomach like a train into a car.

Yoohan sputtered, coughing and groaning at the kick, but it was quickly followed by another and Yeonwoo jumped forward, trying to push the guy away, but he easily flung Yeonwoo aside. 

His vision swam in his anxiousness, unable to do anything except watch as the guy sunk his fist into Yoohan’s face before hurling him back into the ground so he smacked his head against the harsh cement.

“That’ll teach you two next time.” The man spat again, his own breathing heavy as he walked off. 

Yeonwoo quickly kneeled on the ground, checking Yoohan’s head, thankful to see that there was no blood. But Yoohan was still whimpering, clutching at his stomach, even as he peered up at Yeonwoo with worry. 

“Are you okay?” Yoohan asked, even though his face was the one with a cut on the lip, dripping blood down his chin.

“Am I…?” Yeonwoo sighed at the question and helped Yoohan up, his friend limping a bit as he shakily stood. “Come on… Let’s get you out of here.”

-

“That was so stupid of you.” Yeonwoo muttered as he pressed the tissue into Yoohan’s cut, watching as the other man flinched a bit. “Stay still.”

“It hurts.” Yoohan whined before stopping abruptly when Yeonwoo shot him a glare. 

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved like that.” Yeonwoo told him before pulling away as he finished cleaning Yoohan’s cuts up. “The guy would’ve hit me once and been on his way, now look at you… you’re lucky you’re not worse, you’d have to go to the hospital.” He closed his first aid kit, tossing it on the table. “And why did you even step in in the first place? What were you even doing there?”

“If you stopped asking so many questions, I could probably actually answer some of those for you.” Yoohan jokes, leaning in a little close.

Yeonwoo tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened just a bit. 

He took in a breath, calming himself. “Why’d you step in? You haven’t even talked to me in weeks.” Yeonwoo murmured, trying to pretend as if he wasn’t hurt by that fact.

“I couldn’t exactly let my best friend get his ass kicked, could I?” Yoohan huffs out, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“Best friend… why haven’t you talked to me in two weeks?” Silence.

Yeonwoo looked up to see Yoohan staring at him, his dark caramel eyes seeming even darker in his living room, the only light being from outside the open window, a blue glow that cast into the room. 

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Yoohan asked softly.

“No.” Yeonwoo told him, shaking his head. “Why are you so mad I ended our deal? Was there something else you wanted from it that you didn’t get yet? You have another goal than just pissing off your parents?”

Yoohan let out an almost sarcastic laugh, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “You can say that again.”

“Go Yoohan!” Yeonwoo yelled out, his friend jumping at the suddenness of it, looking up at him in shock. “I’m not going to understand if you don’t tell me. Why are you so mad I stopped being your fake boyfriend?”

“I don’t want you to be my fake boyfriend.” Yoohan replied quickly, swiping his fingers in through his hair and clenching it.

Yeonwoo’s pulse pounded in his temples. “OKay… well, now we’re not fake boyfriends, so--”

“No, you aren’t listening.” Yoohan groaned and inched closer. He reached forward, grabbing at Yeonwoo’s hand and held it tightly in his own, so tight that Yeonwoo felt as if he were going to lose circulation in his fingers. “I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend.”

Yeonwoo’s breath caught in his throat and it was as if all sound stopped for the briefest of moments. And then he could hear the sound of a plane from overhead, the laughter of a drunken group of friends walking down the street to their next stop. 

And Yoohan was staring at him. He was staring at him as if he expected Yeonwoo to say something but what could he say to that? Yoohan didn’t want to be his fake boyfriend… did that mean he wanted to be a real one?

“I--what?” Yeonwoo cursed himself for being so uneloquent, but figured the statement summed up pretty well how he was feeling at that exact moment.

Yoohan took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out. He didn’t let go of Yeonwoo’s hand for a moment, however, instead squeezing it even more tightly. “I’ve liked you since high school.” Yoohan admitted and suddenly Yeonwoo was replaying their entire friendship in his mind.

Yoohan had always done things for him, taken care of him. He would show up with Yeonwoo’s school work on days that he missed. He’d suddenly plop down an entire lunch in front of him. He’d walk him home, his arm tightly wrapped around his shoulder and Yeonwoo wouldn’t brush it off because Yoohan would always pout at him and whine and Yeonwoo had to admit, he sort of liked the warmth. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yeonwoo asked suddenly, his shock still written over his face as he looked across at his friend. “Was that… was that what that entire thing was about? You wanted to be my boyfriend so you… paid me to be?” Yeonwoo wondered if he should be angry about being tricked in this way.

“It was… partially.” Yoohan admitted, biting on his lip and Yeonwoo felt all anger trickle away, because he knew that Yoohan hadn’t meant anything bad by it. “I mean, you needed the money, pissing off my parents was a plus and I… got to call you my boyfriend, hang out with you all the time. It was pretty nice.”

Yeonwoo really wanted to reach over and smack the back of Yoohan’s head right about then, but he figured Yoohan had been hit enough for the day. 

“You could have just told me.” Yeonwoo grumbled, looking down at their hands. Yoohan’s knuckles were red and clearly sore, a couple of cuts gracing his skin, but thankfully they weren’t too deep. They would be fine with some bandaids.

“And risk rejection?” Yoohan asked incredulously, leaning in a little. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

“Never said I would’ve rejected you.” Yeonwoo lightly points out, catching Yoohan’s gaze as the moment passed between them. 

“Is this you saying yes?” Yoohan questioned, playing with Yeonwoo’s fingers who let him for a moment before pulling back and standing up.

“This is me telling you to go home and that… I need to think about it.” He crossed his arms as Yoohan looked at him before his friend nodded and stood, causing them to be mere inches apart. 

“Then…” Yoohan raised his hand, his fingers brushing against Yeonwoo’s cheeks. He dug his nails into his own arm, forcing his breathing to stay steady and worked hard to keep his eyes from fluttering shut. And then Yoohan dropped his hand and nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’ll let you think. Goodnight, Choi Yeonwoo.”

Yeonwoo swallowed tightly, feeling as if he had five hearts pounding all throughout his body. He pointed towards the door and led his friend over to it.

“I’ll tell you in a few days.” He promised, gently touching Yoohan’s hand, which earned him a smile and made Yeonwoo smile in return. “So don’t go bugging me about it. And goodnight… Go Yoohan.”

And as he watched Yoohan walk off down the hall, the boy stopping every few steps to glance back over his shoulder until he was out of sight, Yeonwoo already knew his answer.

His answer was yes.

Chapter Text

Yeonwoo pulsates from the sobs rocking his body. He twists and cries and clings and Yoohan does his best to keep Yeonwoo from falling off the bed, from thrashing himself around in his sleep, but it isn’t as easy as it seems. 

This has happened before and each time Yoohan’s chest aches, wishing he could do more, but as it is, he’s merely left to wait for Yeonwoo to calm down, tears still freely streaming from his eyes like a waterfall. That’s where he’s at now, as Yoohan pulls him into his side, his hand gently caressing his back to try to comfort him.

The dreams always come after a day of color. Once in a while, Yoohan thinks about suggesting they stop, at least for a little while, but he shakes the thought from his head just as soon as he has it. Maybe he’s selfish, but he doesn’t like the idea of giving up the color in Yeonwoo’s eyes. 

But also he knew that Yeonwoo would never go for it. He wanted to see in color as badly as Yoohan wanted to pear upon his face, nowadays. Yet now he was having nightmares in color and no matter how much Yoohan wants to put a stop to it, he can’t figure out how.

So he lays there, letting Yeonwoo curl up against his chest, his tears drenching his shirt. Yoohan doesn’t mind, but he does press a kiss to the top of Yeonwoo’s head, his fingers softly combing through his hair. 

It seems to help relax his mono somewhat. Yoohan whispers against the crown of his head, letting him know that he’s there and that he’s not going anywhere. 

He’s not leaving like Yeonwoo’s mother and father did, no matter what happens in the future. 

Yeonwoo’s shaking calms to a slight tremble and whimper. His fingers are still twisted in Yeonwoo’s shirt so Yoohan takes his hand, bringing it to his lips to softly kiss. Yoohan wishes for nothing more than to take away all the pain that was locked deep within Yeonwoo and it wasn’t possible, but he could still do this.

Yoohan could still trail his fingers down his spine and whisper how much he cared for Yeonwoo. He could still silently promise him that he would always be there to take care of him. Yoohan would do anything for his mono. He would burn the world in a day if he had to.

And he could still comfort him and be there for him when he was needed. Yoohan hopes that he will always be needed.

Chapter Text

The sneeze wracked through his entire body. He was just lucky enough to cover his face with a tissue. Yeonwoo whimpered at the pain in his throat due to the harshness of the sneeze and groaned as he fell backwards onto his pillows. 

He felt like he was dying.

Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it’d been a long time since he had been this sick. In fact, the last time he had been this sick, he’d still had his mother to make him a bowl of galbitang, to tuck him into bed and kiss him on the forehead and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He didn’t have that anymore.

But he did have the next best thing.

Yeonwoo watched as Yoohan walked around his room, picking things up. Yeonwoo had been too sick to clean before Yoohan had insisted on coming over after Yeonwoo was out for a second day in a row. Yeonwoo’s aunt was away at work, chasing her show’s next case, and he hadn’t even bothered to tell her he was sick.

But Yoohan was apparently worried enough that he didn’t show up that skipped out during lunch time and made his way to Yeonwoo’s house. How Yoohan got passed the security gate… Yeonwoo didn’t really want to know. 

“Okay. I think everything is nice and clean now.” Yoohan stated after putting the last of Yeonwoo’s stuff away. The boy smiled behind his mask, Yeonwoo could tell because of the way his eyes crinkled at the edges. As much as Yeonwoo wanted to see the colors, he knew he was in now shape to do so. Especially as another sneeze flew from him, leaving him groaning in pain at the harshness of it once again.

“That doesn’t sound good…” Yoohan frowned and walked over to Yeonwoo. Yeonwoo wanted to tell him to not get too close, he didn’t want Yeonwoo to get sick, but before he could, Yoohan was already leaning forward, pressing his lips to Yeonwoo’s heated and flushed forehead.

The flush probably only got darker with the touch of lips. He’d seen this way of taking temperature in movies, but Yeonwoo highly doubted it really worked, even as Yoohan pulled back, noting, “You’re pretty warm… You have a light fever.” 

Yeonwoo wanted to call bullshit on the diagnosis and call Yoohan out on the fact he probably just wanted to kiss him, but before he could, Yeonwoo was pulling the blanket up around his chin and pressing him back into a lying position.

“Let me know if you start having trouble breathing, okay? I’ll get you to a doctor if you do.” Yoohan told him gently, his fingers brushing softly through Yeonwoo’s hair, fingertips lingering against his skin.

He took in a slightly shaky breath, unsure if it was from his cold or from Yoohan’s touch. Perhaps both.

“It’s just a cold.” He said lightly, curling up on the bed. He was rather tired, and it did feel nice to be tucked in like this, to have Yoohan softly stroking him. Yeonwoo felt relaxed. More than he had in awhile.

“Are you hungry?” Yoohan asks softly. “I can make you something to eat.”

Yeonwoo was, but he didn’t want this to end, so he shook his head, his eyes falling shut. “No… maybe later. Will you…” He hesitated.

“Will I what?” Yoohan whispers into the quiet room and Yeonwoo knows he knew what he wanted to ask. He also knew Yoohan was going to make him say it. He was that sort of person; he wanted to hear exactly how Yeonwoo felt. 

“Will you stay here with me?” He murmurs finally and without even a second passing since the question, he felt Yoohan climb onto the bed next to him and himself gently pulled to his chest. His head is pressed into him and Yeonwoo worries for a moment that being this close to him would get Yoohan sick as well, but he also knows that Yoohan doesn’t care.

And he also doesn’t want Yoohan to move. He’s comfortable.

Yeonwoo feels safe with Yoohan holding him this way, with Yoohan taking care of him. Yoohan would always take care of him.