Work Text:
the buzz of alcohol is not unfamiliar to him, as the thrill of getting a win isn't either. still, doo-young is hit suddenly with a sense of urgency and dread from within him, like everything's on the brink of something awful. it hits him in such a manner that he stops mid-laughter, a cold feeling spreading through his chest, but then he catches himself and tries to convince his own mind that he's just anxious. it's been a few years.
he's pretty sure no one's noticed until he glanced at yang-jung, who's watching him closely, as doo-young knows he often does. as he always did. without thinking twice, doo-young reaches out for yang-jung's hand and, although he expects otherwise, his hyung simply lets him. yang-jung looks at the hand clutching his, then back up to doo-young's face, and turns his hand palm up, so as to slot their fingers correctly.
they haven't seen each other in so long, but, in this moment, doo-young is glad he has the chance to be like this again.
much has changed since they'd last seen each other before this. back then, he'd had the privilege of doing more than feeding the other man some treats. back then, they'd shared a bed.
he wonders if yang-jung ever missed him in these past many years. he wonders if, in these years they've been apart, he thought of it; wonders if, now, as he's contemplating their joined hands, yang-jung is thinking about them now.
doo-young has changed since then. has married, and has a baby girl on the way. he'd never be able to choose between the two, if he ever had to. it's a bittersweet thing that yang-jung would never ask him to.
their hands fall apart when they stand to get out of the house, and when they sit back together, yang-jung keeps his hands busy reaching for a cigarette, until doo-young stills his hand just as he's about to light it.
"hyung, you know i don't like it when you smoke." doo-young complains, fondness and familiarity leaking into his voice and he's sure, he has no doubt that it's the only reason that yang-jung gives in to his request, especially with the glance he throws at him, like he knows exactly what he's doing. doo-young sing-songs, "thank you."
"you're still such a brat, shouldn't that have gotten better after you got older?" yang-jung complains, brows furrowing as he puts away the cigarette.
doo-young doesn't bother replying, and as soon as yang-jung's finished moving, doo-young scoots closer until he can rest his head on yang-jung's shoulder. he's expecting a refusal or at least a complaint, or even for yang-jung to simply shrug him away, but he does neither of those things. he just stays still.
"I guess you missed me too, huh." doo-young teases, smiling to himself. he feels yang-jung chuckle against his body, and the hand of his free arm comes up to pet doo-young's cheek, caressing it for a moment or two before taking it away again.
and just when doo-young is sure he's not getting a reply, content to simply stay there, where he hasn't been for years, his old home, when yang-jung presses a kiss to the top of his head and mutters, "don't get used to it."