Chapter Text
A raspy, sleepy groan slipped past Yeonjun’s lips as a harsh ray of sunlight pierced through his bedroom window and burned his covered retina. He groaned, more annoyed than in pain, and rolled in his bed, back facing the annoying– honestly quite disrespectful– source of light that was trying to prevent him from getting some more, much needed, sleep.
After a beat, he sighed, loud and oh so dramatic, reluctantly admitting defeat. It was already pretty clear he wasn’t getting any more sleep, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the reality, which truly sucked considering that day was the group’s only break the entire week and they had been running on a maximum of four hours of sleep on a daily basis. He basically all but flopped back onto the squeaky, way too soft mattress, arms spread out and groaning one more time for good measure– because if he had to be awake, then the universe, that clearly had it out for him, was going to hear about it. Finally, his eyes blinked open sluggishly, squinting against the faint sunlight in the otherwise dark room.
Right on cue, his stomach growled in protest, showing it wasn’t too pleased about being awake either, especially now that it realised how empty it felt. Dieting was… hell, to say the least, especially for someone who loved food the way Yeonjun did. But, their comeback was approaching, and quickly too– already their third one, even though Yeonjun felt like he had debuted just a couple of months ago– so he needed to maintain his weight. That meant, no extra snacks before bed, which his stomach didn’t seem to appreciate very much.
That whole mental pep talk flew right out the same sunlit window that had woken him up as his sore feet– tender and already carrying a few painful blisters after countless hours of rehearsing their new choreographies– were already carrying him towards the dorm’s cramped kitchen, footsteps still impossibly light as he tried not to wake the others up.
He wasn’t at all surprised to see the second youngest member already fully awake and perched on one of the five stools set around their very cluttered island counter. Kang Taehyun’s feet dangled off the edge, making him look even smaller, younger. He had a pair of oversized glasses resting on his nose, framing his small face in a way that made him look unfairly cute, as his large boba-like eyes focused on his phone, which was playing some random, loud western show.
“Morning, Tyun,” Yeonjun mumbled, voice low and quite rough with sleep, offering the younger boy a small, polite smile.
Taehyun’s head snapped up at the sudden sound. His big, dark eyes met Yeonjun’s, and his lips curled into a soft smile. “Good morning, hyung,” he replied, voice gentle, spoon stirring lazily in a bowl of milk filled with a questionable mixture of leftover cereals they had laying around. “Didn’t expect to see you up this early,” he added, raising a questioning, playful eyebrow.
Taehyun’s reaction didn’t come as a surprise to Yeonjun, it was general knowledge by the members that Yeonjun cherished his sleep on days off. Sure, he would still squeeze in some extra practice or jot down lyrics when inspiration struck– he was still very much a workaholic after all– but when his exhausted body knew it had permission to rest, it clung to the bed until much later than the rest of the boys– except maybe Beomgyu, who could rival him in sheer dedication to staying horizontal.
“Don’t get used to seeing my pretty face at this ungodly hour,” Yeonjun muttered, beelining for the counter to check if there was anything he could call breakfast. He quickly noted some slices of bread inside a plastic bag.
“I’ll try not to,” Taehyun said, as he watched Yeonjun half-heartedly rummaging for a topping to put on the bread. “There’s still some of that plum jam Soobin hyung’s mom sent us.” He pointed to the upper cupboard before clicking stop on whatever he was watching on his phone.
Yeonjun hummed in thanks, grabbing a knife and fishing out for the jam. Now that Taehyun’s phone wasn’t filling the silence of the kitchen, it was like Yeonjun could feel the younger’s gaze on the back of his head more clearly, his lingering eyes burning through his skull. He turned with the almost empty jar on his hand and a raised eyebrow on his sleepy face. “What’s up?” he asked, suspicion lacing his voice.
Taehyun chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing. Just not used to the new hair yet,” he replied casually.
Without even noticing, Yeonjun’s free hand was already reaching up to tug at a strand of his recently dyed hair, completely forgetting that it was now pink. He hadn’t even looked in the mirror since waking up, heading straight to the kitchen to quickly shut his stomach up, so the new color of his hair went right under his radar.
“Does it look good?” he asked, more self-conscious than he originally meant to sound.
He always took the burden of being the member dying his hair in bold hair colors, shielding the younger boys from all that bleach damage. This era was no exception, he’d sworn off dyeing after last comeback’s neon yellow fiasco that had dried his hair to a crisp, but here he was– cotton candy-pink and second-guessing everything.
Taehyun didn’t answer right away, only moving his head briefly to scoop up a spoonful of soggy cereal, before chewing slowly, swallowing, and then giving Yeonjun a small nod. “You look good, hyung. Any color suits you.” His tone was casual, nonchalantly, as if he was simply stating a well-known fact, like he always said his praises.
That was the thing about Taehyun– while the youngest member, Kai, showered his hyungs with adorable compliments like an overenthusiastic puppy, Taehyun’s praises were always quiet, casual, and brutally honest, which somehow made them hit twice as hard. Soobin’s, on the other hand, were rare and often disguised as jokes, his way of softening the sincerity behind them, sometimes with a little playful slap on Yeonjun’s arm. And then there was Beomgyu. He was… different. He used to praise Yeonjun a lot– teasingly but so affectionately, calling Yeonjun his role model, his idol– but over the past few months, the compliments had dwindled. Yeonjun would never admit it out loud– hell, he could barely admit it to himself– but those little bits of admiration had meant something. They fueled him, gave him confidence, motivation. And losing Beomgyu’s seemed to chip away at both his ego and, more than he liked to admit, his performance.
Therefore, listening to this random praise made Yeonjun’s lips twitch into a big, slightly goofy smile, his heart warming. Then, he finally sat on the stool in front of Taehyun, now with renewed energy, confidence radiating from his pores, as he started spreading the dark jam onto the dry, slightly stale slice of bread that he grabbed from the plastic bag.
Yeah, they really needed to buy fresh groceries soon.
“You look good with your blonde hair too,” Yeonjun offered, hoping it didn’t sound too much like a return compliment– Taehyun really did look really good with blonde hair.
“Thanks,” Taehyun mumbled, having already pressed play on the show during Yeonjun’s inner monologue, and now clearly more interested in what was happening on his screen than the compliment from his weird hyung.
Assuming the conversation was over, Yeonjun bit into his sad jam sandwich, basically inhaling it in one single bite, and immediately regretting not grabbing a glass of juice or some milk to help wash the bread down. He swallowed with effort, only taking a few more careful bites before pushing his stool back with a scrape and standing up. As he moved to toss the rock-hard bread crust into the trash, Taehyun spoke again, eyes still on his phone, “You should ask Beomgyu if he likes it.”
Yeonjun paused for half a second, caught off guard, before glancing back with a faint frown tugging at his bleached brows. “If he likes my hair?”
“Yeah,” Taehyun answered simply, not giving Yeonjun any more explanations.
The older boy wasn’t stupid, and he knew very well Taehyun wasn’t either– the younger boy clearly sensed there was some unspoken tension between the other two members, a tension Yeonjun wasn’t sure when or how it had even started in the first place. So now, Taehyun would do this sometimes, drop quiet, not so subtle hints that Yeonjun should talk to Beomgyu, make small talk, bridge the gap between them.
As if it were that easy.
Beomgyu was, and had always been, incredibly easy to talk to, even now, when things felt somewhat strained, he could still carry a conversation effortlessly. The problem ran deeper than just words, it was in the way Beomgyu leaned back when Yeonjun got too close, how his smile faltered just a beat too soon when Yeonjun playfully teased him like he’d always done before, how he always seemed to find a reason to be somewhere else; the distance wasn’t only physical– it was personal and it hurt. Yeonjun didn’t need a mirror to know that no matter how hard he tried to hide it, the pain would show on his face.
“I won’t,” Yeonjun said, just as simply, with a small, sharp shake of his head.
Taehyun nodded, another spoonful entering his large mouth. He swallowed before answering, “Suit yourself, hyung.” He didn’t sound upset or angry, just hints of disappointment behind his dry tone.
A pout crept onto Yeonjun’s lips before he could stop it from forming. It just didn’t feel fair… As far as he could remember, he hadn’t done anything wrong or hurt Beomgyu in any way– at least never intentionally– so he could only hope Taehyun was giving the younger boy the same energy he was giving him now, because why should Yeonjun be the one reaching out? Why should he be the one trying to make amends when he didn’t even know what caused all of this mess?
Hell, Yeonjun loved Beomgyu. He always had. The boy was his sweet dongsaeng– the one who used to trail after him like a little puppy back when they were trainees, with soft brown hair bouncing cutely and a smile so wide it would almost blind Yeonjun. The new trainee, and later on group member, that would always be staring at Yeonjun with those huge, brown eyes, his gaze so full of admiration and a spark of something warm that Yeonjun had never quite been able to name… and maybe he didn’t have to. All he knew was: he missed it. Perhaps selfishly, but he missed having those cute eyes on him.
He didn’t know what he had done wrong, but if he had hurt Beomgyu, even unknowingly, he’d wait, since he couldn’t exactly ask for forgiveness for something he wasn’t sure he had done, it wouldn’t feel honest. So waiting it was, until the younger boy was ready to talk. Hopefully, that time would come soon. That day, however, was supposed to be Yeonjun’s rest day, and he didn’t want to spend it lost in heavy thoughts, not before a comeback much less. He deserved a few hours of peace.
Now that the conversation between the two boys seemed to be actually over, Yeonjun left the kitchen, padding softly toward the shared bathroom he used with the group’s maknaes. He tried not to flinch at the sight of his reflection– his freshly dyed pink hair that had just been praised was sticking up in all directions, still mussed from sleep– and grabbed the micellar water Soobin had recommended. After a quick round of skincare, fixing up his hair and brushing his teeth, finally washing the stale taste of sleep and dry bread from his mouth and replacing it with minty freshness, he returned to his bedroom.
As soon as he cracked open the door, despite the room only being faintly illuminated by those damn rays of sunlight still peaking through his bedroom window, he was still able to spot a human-shaped lump burrowed underneath his grey duvet. He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped his lips, that quickly formed into a smirk, immediately assuming it was their cute Kai. The youngest had a habit of sneaking into other members’ beds after they woke up, something about the comfort of new warmth, different scents, a change of scenery.
Deciding to leave him undisturbed, Yeonjun headed to his desk and collapsed onto his chair with a soft groan. He opened his well-worn notebook, which had its pages nearly tearing from getting flipped through too often, of days and days of trying to write down some lyrics only to fail miserably– inspiration was hard to come by lately. Still, he picked up his pencil and stared long and hard at the blank lines. After a beat, he started tapping the back of his pencil against the desk, his leg bouncing restlessly in his chair, like the motion might jumpstart some inspiration, get his creative juice to start flowing around his brain. It didn’t.
“What the fuck?!”
Yeonjun had already landed hard, ass-first, on the cold bedroom floor, having leaped out of his chair and sent his pencil flying somewhere, before the swear word even finished leaving the mouth of the person laying on his bed. The deep, weirdly familiar voice, had his pulse racing, scaring him shitless– suddenly grateful that his Korean lactose intolerant ass hadn’t drunk a glass of milk at breakfast– and almost sending him into cardiac arrest.
Slowly, very dramatically, almost like he was the protagonist in some horror movie, Yeonjun turned his head to glance at the stranger that decided to nap on his warm bed, with wide eyes and a stuttered breath. There, on his bed, was a man rubbing at his face like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Yeonjun couldn’t believe it either.
The black-haired man in question, that was half-covered by the sheet and duvet, apparently bare chested, was him. Older, a little more filled out in the chest and shoulders, less roundness in his cheeks, but unmistakably still him. Still Choi Yeonjun.
As soon as the different version of himself stopped aggressively rubbing at his eyes, he took a glance at Yeonjun– ass still on the floor, mouth wide open– and their eyes locked. They both were frozen in shock, the other Yeonjun’s plush lips also parting, mirroring the younger.
What the fuck was going on?
“How am I here?” the older Yeonjun asked after a heavy, awkward silence.
Yeonjun, still glued to the floor with his mouth hanging open, finally managed to shut it, swallowing hard the lump in his dry throat, before he snapped, “I don’t fucking know! You tell me!” How was he the one being interrogated? A random man– who just so happened to look exactly like him– had shown up in his room, in his precious bed , and somehow Yeonjun was expected to explain that ?
“Disrespectful,” the man muttered, shaking his head like a disappointed father before casting a sharp-eyed look around the room, carefully scanning his surroundings. “How did I get back here?”
The question wasn’t aimed at Yeonjun this time around, so he kept quiet, just watching from his spot on the floor. He really should’ve stood up at that point, but his legs felt like jelly, he was scared they would just give out underneath his weight. Seeing another version of himself was… too freaky.
“It’s 2020, right?” The man suddenly asked, glancing back at him. “I’m guessing from the hair,” he added with an awkward grin, his chin tipped toward Yeonjun’s cotton-pink head.
“Yeah…” Yeonjun replied, frowning ever so slightly. Then, he almost choked on his own saliva, “wait–” he cleared his throat. “Are you saying you’re from another year ?”
“Well, duh.” His older version chuckled, playfully. “Was I really this slow?” He asked, but he didn’t even sound mean, just genuinely baffled by Yeonjun’s stupidity. Somehow, that stung more.
Yeonjun groaned and finally trusted his legs enough to push himself upright. He squared his shoulders, trying to look bigger, braver than he felt. “I’m not slow. I’m just having a hard time processing this.”
“Literally the definition of being slow,” future Yeonjun replied with a smirk, the teasing tone making Yeonjun’s eye twitch. Oh, his version of himself was very annoying, already getting on Yeonjun’s nerves. “I’m from 2025,” future Yeonjun continued, glancing around again. “And I seriously have no idea how I ended up back here.” A laugh escaped him, low and slightly amused. “God, I did not miss this dorm.”
“So… you’re actually me? From the future?” He asked after a few blinks, just to be safe, trying to make sense of the entire thing.
“I think so?” the older Yeonjun replied, his dark brows furrowing and a small pout formed on his lips. “I just wish I knew why and how this happened. I was literally just falling asleep in bed whe–” He suddenly stopped talking, cutting himself off mid-sentence. His entire body tensed and his eyes widened in alarm. “Where’s Beomgyu?” he demanded, voice sharp and full of panic, it felt almost protective.
Yeonjun jumped in place at the sudden shift in tone. “Beomgyu?”
“Yeah!” Future Yeonjun snapped, fox-like eyes darting back and forth like he was searching for an answer somewhere in Yeonjun’s face, like he had hidden Beomgyu somewhere in the shadows of the room. “He was sleeping right next to me. He should’ve traveled back here too, right?” His hands, which were holding the duvet covering his legs, clenched into fists around the fabric. The sudden fear in his expression, despite the aggressiveness in his tone, was raw and palpable. “We need to find him!”
Why were he and Beomgyu even sleeping in the same bed? That entire scenario made no sense to him, almost making him doubt that the frightened person in front of him was actually him in future. Beomgyu didn’t even share a room with him, he shared it with Soobin. Had things gotten so bad for TXT in the next five years that they had to share beds?
“Hm. I guess…” Yeonjun uttered, still a little taken aback by the unreal, rubbing on bizarre, situation unfolding in front of his very eyes. He discreetly pinched himself hard on his thigh, just to make sure he was actually awake. “We can check his room, if you want?” He offered the suggestion cautiously, watching as the other Yeonjun’s clenched hands slowly relaxed.
The older man practically leapt from the bed, revealing that all he was wearing were extremely tight, grey Calvin Klein boxers. Yeonjun yelped and turned away in instinctive horror, quickly realising how dumb it was to be panicking over seeing himself half-naked. “Put something on!” he still barked, eyes glancing back at the mirror of himself, almost completely bare and completely unbothered.
Future Yeonjun was already halfway to the door, one hand on the knob, eyes wide and a bit pitiful. “Why?” He had the nerve to ask.
“Walking around half-naked… What’s wrong with you?” Yeonjun muttered, bypassing him to rummage through the closet for some large clothes.
Yeonjun was fit– he’d been consistently working out since their last comeback– but Future Yeonjun was… big. His frame was noticeably broader and from the quick glance Yeonjun had caught earlier, both his chest and arms were more sculpted, muscles defined and solid. He looked stronger, more mature– like someone who had grown into his body with time. Honestly, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a little impressed, pleased with himself. His future self looked hot ! But he didn’t have to advertise his hotness around the dorm. “I guess I’ve lost qualities.” he added, a bit teasing.
He tossed a grey Adidas jacket at his older self, followed by a pair of oversized black jeans. The man caught them easily and shrugged into the jacket, shoulders stretching the seams, without even bothering zipping it all the way to the up, revealing a flash of tanned skin– and, more alarmingly, a very suspicious red mark just under his collarbone.
“What do you mean losing qualities,” future Yeonjun replied with a chuckle as he slipped into the burrowed pants. “I’m the improved version of you. And no one would even care if I walked around the dorm like that.” It was true, the members really wouldn’t even bat an eye at it, he’d probably just get a disgusted expression from Soobin and eye contact avoidance from Beomgyu.
“Improved, huh?” he chuckled back, a little sarcastically, feeling quite bitter despite himself. “I see I’ve gotten cockier,” Yeonjun grumbled, trying to make his tone somewhat mean, but sounding a bit too whiny for his own taste. But they had more important issues at hand right now, future Yeonjun’s obsession with seeing Beomgyu being one of them. And speaking of him– “You can come with me, but you can’t go into Beomgyu and Soobin’s room. They can’t see two Yeonjuns.”
Future Yeonjun nodded, but there was a strange tension in his sharp jaw and an unreadable glint in his eyes. “Okay. Sure.” Then, he softly added, “Let me just… hear him.”
That last part made Yeonjun stop in his tracks. Hear him? Did he mean Beomgyu? Yep. This version of himself was definitely weird.
With a disappointed shake of his head, Yeonjun decided to push his weirdness to the back of his mind and opened the bedroom door, his head peeking outside, checking his right and his left to make sure the hallway was still clear. Confirming there was no one there, and the dorm was as quiet as expected in the morning of the group’s rare day off, he beelined towards Soobin and Beomgyu’s bedroom, only looking back to make sure Future Yeonjun was following close behind.
“It’s the third door,” Yeonjun clarified in a whisper, walking in light steps with his sock-covered feet.
“I know I lived here,” older Yeonjun answered back, just as quietly, but his steps were more relaxed and not as much spy movie-ish .
That’s right– he was from the future. He had lived through everything Yeonjun had already experienced… and he knew exactly what was coming next. With that thought, Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, it was slowly but surely hitting him… that the Yeonjun behind him was from the actual fucking future. He actually had a lot of knowledge he could use, he knew a lot of things Yeonjun had yet to learn, he was a whole five years ahead of him– okay maybe the older man was right… Yeonjun really was quite slow wasn’t he? Why didn’t he immediately ask him if he had memorised any winning lottery numbers?
“What’s wrong?” The other Yeonjun asked in a hushed tone, probably questioning why his younger self randomly stopped walking.
“Nothing.” Quickly, Yeonjun shook his head. “Nothing,” he repeated, before continuing to quietly walk closer to Beomgyu’s room.
He knocked twice on the door, nervousness immediately washing over his entire body and settling as a burning sensation in the back of his neck as his knuckles made contact against the wood. The sound came out too loud against the quiet hallway, making Yeonjun slightly flinch at the noise he himself made.
Once he heard a quiet ‘Come in’, he cracked the door open, just enough to slip through and careful to not let the dude behind him be seen– which was getting unnecessarily difficult considering he was glued to Yeonjun’s back, pressing against him with his hot breath fanning across Yoenjun’s already burning neck just to try taking a peek inside the room. Fucking creep. With a discreet elbow to his ribs, Yeonjun poked him away, just enough to get some personal space– could it even be considered that when it involved two of the same person?– before stepping inside the room, closing the door behind him, leaving it slightly ajar so the future, and very stupid Yeonjun could eavesdrop on everything.
Unsurprisingly, Beomgyu was still in his bed, using a brown sweater that matched his messy, but still as fluffy as ever, brown hair to perfection– bangs long enough that were starting to cover most of his large, sleepy eyes. He had his legs tucked underneath the sheets, looking all warm and cozy, and his laptop resting on his lap, its screen not visible from Yeonjun’s point of view by the door.
Inspecting the rest of the surprisingly tidy room, Yeonjun’s eyes drifted to the second bed, examining it. There was an obvious lump under the baby blue duvet, but it was clearly, without a single doubt, just Choi Soobin and no future TXT member, judging by the mess of hair sticking out and his mouth wide open in deep, undignified sleep– a very blackmail-worthy sight that would for sure be excellent leverage for Yeonjun to snag one of those “leader gets his own hotel room” perks. Though honestly, having the dorm room to himself was already a pretty huge win.
A throat cleared.
Yeonjun’s head turned towards the sound and locked eyes with Beomgyu, still sitting on his bed, with round cheeks and sleepy eyes, one eyebrow arched in confusion. “Can I help you, hyung?” he asked, voice still a bit hoarse– he must’ve woken up not too long ago.
“Ah.” How exactly was he supposed to explain he was searching for another Beomgyu? “You didn’t happen to wake up next to, I don’t know, an older, future version of yourself… did you?” Very straightforward… nice. Brilliant plan with an even better execution.
Beomgyu’s already-raised eyebrow somehow climbed even higher. Yeonjun feared it would hit the ceiling by the time they were done talking. “No… Did you?”
“Ha-ha.” Yeonjun awkwardly laughed. “That would be crazy.” Not a denial, he couldn’t just lie to the younger, not with those round eyes watching his every move like he was a mad man– maybe he was.
“Right…” Beomgyu mumbled, nodding gently, like coaxing a child that just said something bat shit crazy but you don’t want to hurt his feelings. He seemed completely baffled by the conversation, and honestly, Yeonjun couldn’t blame him.
Less than a year before, that whole messy conversation would have gone a lot differently. Beomgyu would’ve been teasing him by now, probably inviting the older boy into his bed, warm with human heat, and telling him it was too early for that complete nonsense. But, this version of Beomgyu just stared at him, confused, tired, and with that same sad, puppy-eyed glint he’d been wearing way too often lately– well, more specifically, whenever Yeonjun was around. Yeonjun hated it and he wished he could fix it.
“So… what are you doing?” Yeonjun asked, trying to somehow make things less weird, or at least less fucking awkward, hoping to ease the tension between Beomgyu’s eyebrows.
The random question, or weak attempt at small talk, seemed to catch Beomgyu off guard. He looked down at his lap like he’d completely forgotten what he’d been doing before Yeonjun had entered his room. “Oh. Just watching that show Taehyun recommended– you know, so I can roast him with actual informed commentary and educated jokes.”
That made Yeonjun chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re putting in that much effort just to annoy him?”
Beomgyu shrugged, with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips that didn’t fully reach his eyes. “It’s pretty fun.”
God, Yeonjun had to admit he missed getting teased by Beomgyu too. Missed the way Beomgyu used to poke at him until Yeonjun would retaliate with playful smacks, ending in warm, cute giggles from the younger that filled the whole room. He found himself smiling, warmth creeping up inside him as nostalgia settled in his chest.
Beomgyu, who was still staring at him, likely noticed the shift in his expression, his own turning even more confused by his hyung’s strange behaviour. “Hm. But do you… wanna watch it too, hyung?” He asked, gesturing to the laptop as he tried to figure out what Yeonjun exactly wanted from him, why he was still standing there, in the middle of his room, doing nothing but small talk and asking weird questions about future Beomgyus.
Yeah. What was Yeonjun doing? Oh right– his future self was still waiting in the hallway. And, clearly, there was no future Beomgyu in that room, just one present-day, tired-of-Yeonjun’s-shit and emotionally-distant Beomgyu.
“No, no,” Yeonjun said quickly, shaking his head. He had more important business at hand at that very moment. “Hyung’s busy, so I’ll be leaving now. But have fun!” He practically bolted out of the room before Beomgyu could say anything else.
He exhaled in relief– a sensation that was short lived as he turned around the closed door and made direct eye contact with future Yeonjun, who had his foxy, sharp eyes narrowed and burning with cold fury.
“Did you. Just say ‘no’. To Beomgyu?” He asked slowly, voice dangerously calm, like he was holding himself by a thread, and that thread was the only thing keeping future Yeonjun’s hands from his neck. Yeonjun was starting to get actually scared about himself, had he become… A psycho? How bad had those five years really been? Fuck…
“I think the fact that you are here, in my timeline, is a little more concerning than some random show Taehyun likes,” he snapped back, voice tough and fists curling at his sides ready to fight if needed– even though he would likely lose, considering the size of future Yeonjun.
“Go in there,” the older Yeonjun said, still eerily calm, “apologize, and watch the show with him. Now.”
“No!” Yeonjun retorted, already getting worked up. Was the show really that good that he would regret not watching it for years? “I did nothing wrong, why would I apologise,” Yeonjun mumbled out as he turned to walk back to his room.
With that said, and before future Yeonjun could get a punch in, Yeonjun stomped off back toward his bedroom door, only to stop a few steps in, realising there were no footsteps sounds following him. He turned back to see his older self still frozen by Beomgyu’s door, staring at it like an overgrown kicked-out cat who just wanted to be let back in– only seconds away from scratching the wood.
“What are you doing?” Yeonjun whisper-yelled, through clenched teeth.
“I wanna see him,” the older Yeonjun said, voice normal, no longer caring about staying quiet.
Yeonjun furrowed his brows and his expression turned into a cringe from sheer secondhand embarrassment. He could feel his own brain melting away the more he stayed with this strange man, who was nothing like him at all. “Didn’t you hear the conversation? Future Beomgyu’s not in there. Only present-day, very done with us Beomgyu.”
“I know,” future Yeonjun whispered, sadness soaking every word as his gaze remained glued to the door in front of his pitiful eyes.
Yeonjun sighed, exhausted. At this point, he had accepted that he’d turn into one weird-ass man, but could future him at least try not to blow their cover? Could he, please , know his goddamn place and cooperate in staying hidden?
“Come to the bedroom, okay?” He said gently, voice softening as he tried to ease future Yeonjun like a pet, since he wanted to act like one too. “If any of the members see you, it’s going to be really hard to explain… and we don’t even have an explanation yet–”
A loud scream split through the dorm, high-pitched and absolutely blood-curdling. Both Yeonjuns jumped in sync, turning to find Huening Kai standing frozen in the middle of the hallway, eyes wide in horror, his phone dropped on the floor as he stared directly at the two identical Yeonjuns.
“Shit,” future Yeonjun muttered.
“Shit,” echoed present Yeonjun.
Shit was indeed the appropriate reaction when Kai, with his round cheeks and even rounder eyes, shifted his gaze between the two boys– like staring hard enough might conjure a plausible explanation for what he was seeing. He was adorable– still sporting a bit of baby fat on his soft face, easily the cutest of Yeonjun’s dongsaengs– but he could get… really scary when provoked. Or worse, when he just wasn’t vibing with something. And right now? Kai was very much not vibing.
His large hand suddenly shot forward, finger trembling as it pointed directly at the unfamiliar Yeonjun. “Who are you?!” he yelled, his voice cracking.
At the yell and Kai’s outburst, Taehyun, who had been in the kitchen, came running into the living room with equally wide eyes that somehow got even wider as he caught sight of what, or rather who, Kai was screaming at.
“Wha–”
Before he could even finish his sentence, the bedroom door behind them creaked open with a loud squeal, and Beomgyu’s fluffy, round head peeked out, with large curious eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked with a small voice.
Fantastic, the entire dorm was joining the party… Yeonjun groaned, bringing his hands to rub at his face in frustration.
Future Yeonjun turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s raspy voice, his lips parting ever so slightly in surprise. Then the corner of his lips twitched, lips trembling faintly, barely perceptible– like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how, or maybe what– and his gaze softened with an odd glint, a sparkle Yeonjun hadn’t seen in the man since this strange meeting had began that very morning.
Beomgyu’s big, brown eyes tracked Kai’s accusatory, shaky pointed finger to the stranger in their dorm– who had already been staring at the younger boy– freezing as their gazes finally locked. His mouth opened just slightly, mirroring the future Yeonjun’s stunned expression.
“Answer me!” Kai shouted again, voice a little too high-pitched and whiny to sound truly threatening.
Future Yeonjun didn’t answer at all, instead he just kept staring at Beomgyu, his sharp eyes traveling around his face, memorising his features, as if he physically couldn’t look away.
On the other side of the hallway, Beomgyu had finally darted his eyes away, briefly glancing down at the stranger’s tan chest– still exposed by his half-zipped jacket– before looking quickly to the floor and visibly gulping.
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow.
What the fuck was that?
Tired of the silent staring contest, he reached out to smack future Yeonjun’s arm, a bit too hard, because he wasn’t exactly enjoying the way his older self was acting all weird about, and now around, Beomgyu. At the hit, the older man snapped out of it, turning to face Yeonjun and blinking at him in confusion. Yeonjun tilted his head to the side, gesturing toward Kai, who was still very much waiting for an answer.
“Oh. Hm,” the other Yeonjun said, fumbling for words, his eyes flicking back to Beomgyu, taking sneaky little glances. “He’s… past me,” he finally said, simply, gesturing with his thumb at the indignant younger Yeonjun next to him.
“What?” Yeonjun scoffed. “Past you? You’re future me!”
Hearing it aloud sounded a bit dumb, sure– but the correction truly mattered! He was the original Yeonjun here and the other was just some idiot who had somehow fallen into the past and clearly had a weird obsession with Beomgyu.
Future Yeonjun blinked a few times, calmly, before answering, “isn’t that the same exact thing?”
The fucking nerve . It was very different and he knew it. He was just acting all mighty and superior like a jackass.
“If he’s from the future, hyung,” Taehyun said cautiously, still looking a little shaken, but couldn’t possibly resist proving Yeonjun wrong, “then yeah… you’re technically past him.”
“Thank you, Tyun,” future Yeonjun said brightly, beaming and with eyes full of delight. He turned again to Beomgyu, whose cheeks had turned suspiciously pink. Was it that warm inside the dorm? “Don’t you agree, Gyu?” He asked, his tone almost flirty.
At the sound of his name, Beomgyu’s head snapped up, his slightly-wavy, brown bangs adorably bouncing in place. “Huh? I… I guess so?” It was clearly a half-arsed answer, but it still made future Yeonjun grin like a fool.
He stepped towards Beomgyu, making the younger tilt his chin up to meet his gaze. “Right? I knew I could count on you,” he said softly, sporting a cheeky smile that brought even more color to Beomgyu’s cheeks, the pink shade deepening– something Yeonjun hadn’t seen in a hot while since witnessing Beomgyu get all awkward and shy around him had become incredibly rare.
Just like that, Yeonjun felt something twist deep down in his gut. Without thinking, he reached out and yanked future Yeonjun back by the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him away from Beomgyu.
“Do you remember anything?” Taehyun, who was trying so hard to stay calm and collected– even going as far as asking the important questions that both Yeonjuns didn’t have the answers to– stepped in, getting closer to the youngest member. “About… how you got here?” he asked, gently placing a reassuring hand on Kai’s back. Kai was still pale and quiet, but seeing everyone else begin to accept it, he slowly lowered the finger he likely forgot he was still pointing.
“No idea, to be completely honest,” future Yeonjun admitted, scratching his neck, fiddling with some strands of black hair in the back of his head. “I just went to sleep and woke up in 2020…” He pondered for a few moments, trying to remember what could’ve caused this. “I really had no choice over this. Honestly, I wouldn’t even have picked this year to travel to. It wasn’t that great of a year with COVID and all that– wait, you guys know about COVID, right?” He asked, suddenly panicking that he had revealed something he shouldn’t have. It made Yeonjun chuckle.
“Yeah…” Taehyun said quietly, the only one brave enough to reply at that point.
Kai was still frozen, but seemed to be getting more comfortable, and Beomgyu had finally left the doorway, leaving the door behind him slightly ajar before inching closer towards the rest of them. Future Yeonjun shifted aside just slightly, giving enough room so Beomgyu could stand next to him. Of course.
“Besides COVID… was it a good year?” Beomgyu asked cautiously, looking up at future Yeonjun with large eyes, eyelashes slowly moving at every gentle blink.
“Ah,” future Yeonjun paused, maybe thinking about the year or simply just lost for words. “Sure. It wasn’t too bad.”
Kai hummed, now that he was feeling braver he looked like he wanted to ask something too– he had always been one of the most curious members. “Hyung, did we–”
But he was cut off by a loud slam as Beomgyu’s bedroom door burst open and hit the wall next to it, very likely leaving a mark that would result in their manager screaming at them– like it had happened multiple times before, because Soobin and Beomgyu liked being dramatic whenever they had a small fight. Soobin charged out, wrapped in his blue duvet that was almost falling off his naked shoulder, and Beomgyu’s guitar clutched in both hands like a deadly weapon.
“Who the fuck are you?!” he demanded, eyes wide, and a bit wild, bringing a shiver to Yeonjun’s spine. Their leader could be scary.
Beomgyu groaned, walking away from future Yeonjun’s side– earning a visible pout from the elder that almost made Yeonjun gag– and moved to intercept their flustered leader. “If he were a murderer, we’d all be dead by now,” he muttered, prying the guitar from Soobin’s grip. The duvet slipped down one of Soobin’s shoulders as he stared back at Beomgyu, bewildered. “Great leadership though,” Beomgyu teased, placing the guitar safely against the wall.
Soobin’s shoulders dropped in defeat, shrugging them lightly in a weak attempt at pulling the duvet– that was doing a terrible job at hiding his naked chest– back on his shoulder. Only then, did he really look at the stranger in the room.
Another piercing scream. “What the actual fuck?”
After filling Soobin in with everything they’d learned– which wasn’t much, frankly– they all gathered in the living room, too wired to go back to sleep and too confused to do anything else.
“What are you guys staring at me for?” Yeonjun grumbled as he slouched deep into the couch cushions, his annoyance clear in his voice. The dude next to him was the extra Yeonjun, not him for fuck’s sake! “I’m as baffled as you guys are.” He groaned.
“It’s just... having two of you is very weird, hyung,” Taehyun explained from his spot on the floor between Beomgyu and Kai, his wide eyes flicking back and forth between the Yeonjuns like he was watching a tennis match.
Soobin let out a huff of disbelief, arms crossed as his long legs paced around the room and did laps around the couch, too agitated to sit down. “There’s no way you’re actually from the future,” he said, pausing mid-step to glare at the older-looking Yeonjun. That Yeonjun, in turn, looked just as annoyed as his younger self– cheek squeezed against his palm and elbow digging into the couch armrest.
“That’s the only explanation, hyung,” Beomgyu said quietly. “How else can we explain… this?” He gestured vaguely between the two Yeonjuns.
Soobin's eyes narrowed, still not convinced. “And how do we even know it’s really Yeonjun, hm?” Yeonjun had to admire his stubbornness, he was being protective of the group making sure they weren’t putting themselves in a dangerous situation by trusting a random person who just happened to look very fucking similar to Yeonjun. “Could be a clone. Or a shapeshifter. Or some freaky doppelgänger from another dimension.” Seeing the scepticism in Taehyun’s facial expression he added, “I doubt it, okay? But we can’t rule out all the possibilities!”
With that, everyone turned to future Yeonjun, including Yeonjun himself, who squinted at him like he might morph into something grotesque at any moment. The suspicion was palpable. Just to be sure, Yeonjun reached over slowly– trying not to startle his potential other self– below the pulled up sleeve of future Yeonjun’s jacket. Then, without warning, he pinched the exposed skin on his forearm between his fingers, hard.
Future Yeonjun hissed and yanked his arm back, rubbing the hurt skin with his other hand. “Ow! What the hell?”
“Just confirming you're actually a human. You know… that can feel pain,” Yeonjun said with a small shrug, trying to act casual, and like future Yeonjun’s sharp eyes and flexing muscles weren’t scaring him a little.
“Great. Let’s test you next then,” future Yeonjun deadpanned, clearly unimpressed. Yeonjun swallowed the lump in his throat, he thought there was a very slight chance he might have won future Yeonjun in a fight, but he didn’t want to risk it. At all. Then, ignoring his younger self, future Yeonjun turned towards Soobin. “And I am Yeonjun. I can easily prove it.”
He held up his arm, showing a small discolored line near the place where Yeonjun had pinched him. “Got this scar sneaking out of the old dorm, and scratching myself on the window, to buy us some beer. And this,” he said, pointing to his right eye, “is the infamous scar MOAs thought came from fighting seventeen guys.” Without a break, he next gestured to the mole right under the same eye. “This mole shows up next year, by the way.” His fingers dropped to his waistband. “Ah! And I still have the navel birthmark–”
“We don’t need to see that one!” Taehyun interrupted loudly and fast, but it was already a little too late. Future Yeonjun had already begun to unbutton his pants.
All three younger members immediately looked away with dramatic little yelps, avoiding suddenly making eye contact with a part of Yeonjun they still hadn’t had the pleasure– in Yeonjun’s humble opinion– of meeting. Beomgyu looked particularly affected, nearly burying his pink face in his hands, wavy bangs covering the rest of his face that his hands weren’t hiding.
Soobin, meanwhile, stayed unbothered and stared directly at the flash of skin, raising one eyebrow as he confirmed, “Checks out,” he answered with a nod, looking quite impressed, probably not by the mole itself but by future Yeonjun’s ease and shamelessness at trying to prove himself. “There’s a new mark, though.”
Yeonjun frowned, now also noticing the new red mark, almost turning purple-ish, on his skin, right along the line of his hip bone. That better not be what Yeonjun thought it was. The mark on his neck could be a really weird mosquito bite, but the one on his navel was more pigmented, more bruise-like. His dumb, older version of himself had some serious explaining to do…
“That doesn’t really prove anything,” Taehyun pointed out after daring to glance up, relief washing over his expression as he noted future Yeonjun’s pelvis was already covered, his pants back where they belonged.
At Taehyun’s voice, proving that the coast was clear, the other two members raised their heads too. Beomgyu’s round cheeks were still flushed to a lovely shade of pink, like they had been ever since he’d seen future Yeonjun back in the hallway. He had been fiddling with his fingers the whole time too, sometimes tugging on the drawstring of his pajama pants, clearly nervous. Yeonjun wanted to ask, to reach out, but he couldn’t. Beomgyu wouldn’t want him to.
“That’s true… didn’t you tell me you have a mole near your balls too? A bit suspicious you didn’t show that one…” Soobin said, before humming in thought.
“Wha–”
“Hyung no!” Taehyun yelled out quickly. Yeonjun wasn’t sure if the yell was for Soobin’s atrocious inquisition or for future Yeonjun, scared the elder would actually show said ball mole. “I just meant, his body looks the same– just slightly older, of course.” Future Yeonjun huffed, offended. It made Yeonjun smirk, at least he won in that category. “So of course he would have the same marks. What could prove he’s actually Yeonjun is if he shares his knowledge…” He turned to look at the older man. “Tell us something only Yeonjun hyung would know.”
“Yeah! Good idea!” Kai perked up at that. “You should share something that there’s no way anyone but Yeonjun hyung could know.”
Future Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, starting to look actually frustrated by the situation. Present Yeonjun couldn’t blame him. “Oh, so you guys want secrets? I’ve got secrets,” he started, a smirk forming on his lips, before he turned to Soobin first, who was still standing near the couch. “You made me swear never to tell anyone you once lurked in pet play forums out of ‘pure curiosity’ .” Soobin’s eyes widened, his shoulders slacking as he released his crossed arms, mouth open wide in shock.
Then he faced Kai, who was suddenly avoiding making direct eye contact with the older man, like that would somehow make himself invisible. “And you,” he grinned devilishly, “I know you use Taehyun’s toothbrush.”
Kai gasped, horrified, his head all but whipping at Taehyun. “Tyunnie! That was only one time! I swear!”
“You did what?!” Taehyun yelled at the revelation, but the younger boy knew he had no time to focus on that– it was his turn next… He shook his head, his large eyes begging as he now stared at future Yeonjun, likely already regretting ever bringing up the whole ‘sharing secrets’ idea. “Yeonjun hyung, don’t–”
“Remember when you accidentally sent a nude to our manager?”
“But that never happened!” Taehyun squawked, a mixture of betrayal and embarrassment in his voice.
Future Yeonjun blinked twice, a bit confused, but his smirk on his lips never faltered. “Oh. Maybe that hasn’t happened yet ,” he easily corrected.
Yeonjun couldn’t help but snort, he had to admit that the whole mess he got stuck in was becoming quite entertaining, a really fun day off.
Future Yeonjun’s eyes slid to Beomgyu next, whose hands stilled in his lap. “And you, Beomie… should I share our secrets too?” He asked, the smirk still on his face but this time visibly softer, his eyes almost fond.
Yeonjun frowned, his body tensing up. Our? Why our? That didn’t make any sense– had he maybe misheard the pronoun?
“That’s enough!” Soobin snapped, throwing his hands in the air, finally having enough of the conversation. “We get it, we get it.” He groaned before adding, “You are Yeonjun. Jesus.”
“Not Jesus. Just Yeonjun.” future Yeonjun leaned back into the couch, his arms crossed behind his head, all smug. “I can very easily keep going, by the way. I have secrets for days– or are you guys forgetting you always come ranting to me .”
Yeonjun found himself nodding at his own future self words. The members really trusted him a lot with secrets, he was the oldest, wisest member after all. Besides, he liked to think he gave some amazing advice.
“That means hyung gets a girlfriend in the future?” Soobin asked, eyes gleaming with mischief as he pointed at the fading bruise on future Yeonjun’s neck. He’d clearly been dying to bring it up ever since spotting the darker, even more suspicious mark on his navel– no matter how much Yeonjun tried to convince himself those bruises weren't hickeys. “Never expected you to have romantic feelings for anything other than almost passing out at dance practice.”
Great. Of course, Yeonjun from the future just had to show up, looking like a walking scandal, practically advertising his reckless decisions, and make his members believe that Yeonjun– the sane one– would somehow jeopardise his career for a damn relationship? Pff as if!
There had to be an explanation for it, maybe a mess hookup that future Yeonjun had forgotten to warn them about leaving no hickeys or marks, since he sure looked stupid enough to forget about something as important as that. Yeonjun might have been open to the casual fling– he was human after all– but nothing ever too seriously, nothing ever romantic. Because relationships took time and effort, both things he gave only to his one true love: his career.
Then, future Yeonjun’s eyes shifted slightly to cast a glance, barely a flicker, towards Beomgyu, who sat quietly, with the same sad puppy eyes Yeonjun was so used to seeing. It was a subtle look, a second too long to be completely meaningless, but brief enough that Yeonjun wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t staring at his future self like a hawk. Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed, suspicion immediately ignited.
“It’s… complicated,” future Yeonjun finally replied.
Complicated? What the hell did that mean? That definitely didn’t sound like a hookup, definitely not some casual fling. No, that word– complicated– was doing a lot of heavy lifting, and Yeonjun didn’t like it one bit. Not one damn bit. And Yeonjun really needed to have a serious chat with this man. ASAP.
“What about the rest of us, hyung?” Kai asked innocently, voice laced with curiosity. “Do we have girlfriends?”
Future Yeonjun looked around, at every member in the room, suddenly awkward, his previous confidence all but gone at that question. As he tried to come up with a reply– which really should’ve been easy enough to answer, just ‘yes’ or ‘no’ right?– his mouth opened and closed a few times like a glitchy video or a dumb little fish.
Unexpectedly, Soobin suddenly leaned in and whispered something into his ear, quiet enough that the younger Yeonjun couldn’t hear or make out a single word that was being said. Future Yeonjun’s eyes widened in alarm as Soobin finished speaking, before he turned to him, asking, “how did you figure it out?”
“You haven’t changed much in five years, hyung.” Soobin shrugged with an easy smirk, rather smugly. “Just as easy to read.”
Both Yeonjuns pouted at Soobin’s rude, untruthful statement. “I’m not easy to read,” Yeonjun disagreed, his plump lips still pursed into a childish pout. “And I’m really not that similar to him either…” he added, giving a side glance to the black haired man next to him. “Except maybe the birthmark, I guess.” The older man let out a breathy laugh at that.
“You’re the same person, hyung.” Beomgyu corrected, his large eyes looking up at him. “He’s you– literally. So you really can’t be that different.”
Yeonjun huffed, before insisting, “I can and I am .” With that, future Yeonjun elbowed him, hard, right on the gut, causing Yeonjun to double over with a pained wheeze. “What was that for?” His face was contorting in pain and his hands clutching the sore spot, even though the hit really wasn’t that incredibly painful, and it was mostly the betrayal of being assaulted by his future self that truly hurt. Though, to be fair, Yeonjun had already thrown a few elbows, hands and pinches at future Yeonjun…
“For being a dumbass,” future Yeonjun replied rather innocently, shoulders shrugging, before turning to the other boys, with a smile on his lips. “Anything you guys wanna know about the future? Not sure I can share much because of the whatever effect–”
“Butterfly,” Taehyun corrected.
“–but I think it's okay to share just a few things!”
“Yes, I wanna know! How are we doing, hyung?” Kai asked, the hopefulness clear in his soft, baby-like voice. “Are we, as a group, doing okay?”
Future Yeonjun’s visibly softened, eyes sparkling with fondness. Yeonjun could understand him, seeing their youngest member, back at a younger age, must be quite the adorable sight, especially when he was being so cute. “Really well,” he nodded gently. “Actually– when I fell asleep, I was in a hotel in Macau for our third tour.”
Despite his best efforts to appear indifferent and unaffected by anything his older self had to say, trying hard to react unceremoniously, Yeonjun still couldn’t stop the way his jaw dropped– his own face mirroring the wide-eyed and open-mouthed excitement of the other boys– as he shifted eagerly on the couch, leaning in toward his future self. “ Three tours?” he nearly shouted in his face, voice full of disbelief and high-pitched.
The man nodded, seeming really proud of his and TXT’s achievements. “We even toured Europe,” he bragged. He chuckled as his reveal was met with silence, just getting the younger boy’s awestruck expressions as answer, too stunned to speak. “Yeah… We are pretty cool, if I do say so myself.”
He spoke warmly about their accomplishments next– unspecified chart records they’ve broken, important awards they won but he didn’t name, sold-out shows in nameless locations and very special collaborations with artists he omitted– making sure to never give too much away, keeping his information vague and the spoilers to a minimum. Still, he informed them that all their hard work had paid off and noted how they had grown more confident, how their stage presence sharpened with every performance, and how their artistry deepened with time.
With a proud, warm smile curving at the corner of his lips, he described how all of them were writing more lyrics, pouring more of themselves into their music and their success in the future was all due to them and their love for performing and persistence in improving themselves. His speech made the boys sit a little taller, their chests unconsciously puffing out in pride at every praise that left future Yeonjun’s mouth.
He also made a point to highlight each of them individually: Told Kai he could look forward to his growing role as a producer and composer for TXT, how Taehyun would continue lending his beautiful voice to new covers and even be the star of OSTs and that Soobin even had his own variety show that everyone loved to bits.
However, when it got to Beomgyu’s turn, future Yeonjun’s tone suddenly changed, his previous excitement dying down and getting replaced by something more warm, gentle as he met the younger’s eyes. His smile got impossibly softer as he simply said, “you’re doing really well, Beomgyu.”
The younger boy clearly expected more– something meaningful, or at least more revealing, like what the others had received. His brow lifted in quiet anticipation, waiting for future Yeonjun to say something else, anything else. But instead, the older version of Yeonjun rose to his feet, stretching his body lazily, before saying, “Well, I’m exhausted. Might nap for a bit in my old room.” His tone was casual, but there was a strange awkwardness to it– something just beneath the surface that Yeonjun couldn’t quite put his finger on. “You guys know how it is– time travel’s a bitch.” He laughed it off, quite awkwardly before walking back to the bedroom.
The boys, except for Beomgyu and Yeonjun, all bid their goodbyes as they watched future Yeonjun reach the hallway with grins on their faces– likely way too happy about what their future held to even notice the sudden change of ambience around them.
Yeonjun stood up from the couch right after, his eyes narrowing as he followed the older man closely behind. “You and I are gonna talk. Now!”
“Is that how you treat your seniors, young man?” future Yeonjun asked playfully, as he turned around briefly to face his younger self. Seeing Yeonjun was not backing down, the irritation still very much visible in his eyes he sighed, before answering, “sure. But make it quick, I really do need to nap. I was kept up all night, you know,” he answered, his tone flat but a subtle teasing tint hiding beneath it, before heading back to the direction of the room.
Yeonjun was all but fuming once he entered the room following future Yeonjun. If it was a cartoon character, his ears and nostrils would be blowing out dark smoke in anger. Meanwhile, future Yeonjun sat on the bed with a soft sigh, like the room was his or something– well, it wasn’t anymore, he had another dorm and from what he had told the others back in the living room it was way better.
“Are you going to tell me how you got those marks all over you?” Yeonjun asked bluntly, cutting straight to the chase.
Future Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, the same maddeningly smug smirk tugging at his plush lips. “Come on, Jjunie, you know what hickeys are. Hyung doesn’t really need to give you a lesson, right?”
“Don’t call me that,” Yeonjun snapped, correcting him. He was the Yeonjun, not Jjunie at all. “And of course I know!” He groaned, starting to pace in front of the bed where the other man was sitting, frustration bubbling in his chest. “I just didn’t expect me to risk my entire career like that– the career I bled for.”
As if the whole conversation bored him to death, future Yeonjun flopped onto the bed, sighing way louder this time, very dramatically. “Like I said before, I was in a hotel. Obviously, I didn’t plan to leave like this so… just chill, Jjunie.”
“Chill?” Yeonjun’s left eye twitched. The sheer audacity of this man was truly unbelievable, unbelievably fucking infuriating. “You’re messing around with someone– clearly more than just a fling if you called it ‘complicated’– and you want me to be chill about it?”
The older man just shrugged, eyes closed as if he couldn’t possibly be any less interested in entertaining the raw panic in his younger self’s little head. Yeonjun had to physically restrain himself from throwing a pillow at his annoyingly handsome face, or worse, launch a punch right at his crotch which was conveniently unprotected since future Yeonjun’s hands were now resting comfortably on his stomach– but no, he couldn’t stop himself from having kids in the future.
However, Yeonjun promised himself he would do anything in his power to stop himself from becoming such a smug idiot.
A quiet, slow knock at the door interrupted his fuming mental rant and caused one of future Yeonjun’s eyes to open, just slightly, in alert.
“Hey, hyung– hyungs,” came a soft, familiar voice after the knock, breaking the sudden silence that was beginning to form in the room. “Can I come in?”
Beomgyu .
Yeonjun barely had time to fully register the voice– or to wonder what divine event had taken place to make that soft, honeyed voice come seeking him – before future Yeonjun shot upright in bed, eyes suddenly wide with… excitement? “Of course, Gyu.”
The younger Yeonjun opened his mouth to object– this was his room, his space, so he should be the one answering Beomgyu, certainly not future Yeonjun. However, he thought better of it… it was Beomgyu. Beomgyu, who hadn’t come to him, actively searched for him, like this for far too long. Besides, his huge big ego really wasn’t worth another hard rib-jab from future Yeonjun.
Now remembering future Yeonjun’s vicious hit, Yeonjun rubbed his sore spot, pouting slightly as Beomgyu stepped inside, who was still wrapped in his oversized brown hoodie and flannel pajama pants– his favorite sleepwear when the dorm got too cold. His hair was still a little mussed, the brown strands of hair cutely sticking in different directions, waving at his bangs.
“Hey,” Beomgyu said, a little awkwardly. He’d been in Yeonjun’s room countless times before, but not recently.
Something in Yeonjun’s chest stirred. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was when they started finding their way back to each other. How they would finally fix their friendship.
“I was just curious about a few things,” Beomgyu added, his curious, yet shy gaze going directly to future Yeonjun.
It was like Yeonjun could hear his own heart break, with a whole little dramatic sound effect and everything, like he really was a cartoon character. Trying to ignore the punch to his gut was easier said than done, a sad frown still forming its way to Yeonjun’s face.
Of course. He wasn’t here for him. He just wanted answers– clearly from someone else.
“Ask away,” future Yeonjun said brightly, with a beam that lit up the entire room more than that damn window, while he patted the spot next to him in bed.
Beomgyu smiled softly and stepped forward, walking right past Yeonjun– still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room– to settle beside future Yeonjun in bed, with his hands rested neatly in his lap, almost shyly.
“I was just wondering,” Beomgyu began, voice hesitant, eyes averted, even though future Yeonjun seemed like he couldn’t take his eyes off the younger boy– tilting his head slightly and leaning forward, trying to meet his gaze through the curtain of hair.
“You didn’t really mention much about me... Did something bad happen?” He finally asked, his voice trembling slightly at the end, despite his best efforts at keeping it steady. It was clear how embarrassed he was to ask, or maybe just scared about the answer.
Future Yeonjun’s eyes widened just a bit, surprised at Beomgyu’s assumption, before softening entirely. “No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head quickly, clearly refusing to let Beomgyu believe he did poorly in the future for even one second longer. “Nothing bad happened at all. You did amazing, Beoms. Really amazing.” He leaned in a little closer, their knees brushing, voice warm and overflowing with pride. “You have a solo release now– you know that? It’s beautiful. So beautiful. So you . Every part of it feels like your heart was poured into it. It’s everything I always knew you were capable of.”
Beomgyu lifted his head slightly, feeling more comfortable, braver, his eyes meeting future Yeonjun’s with a soft uncertainty but curiosity. “Really?” He asked, visibly gulping.
Future Yeonjun immediately nodded, his eyes were shimmering now– the soft emotion in them sharpened into something intense but still so, so tender. “Really. And you didn’t just do music,” he continued, smiling. “You had your own variety show. Two full seasons. You were hilarious, charming– just yourself, and people loved you for it. And you know what else?” He reached out gently, brushing one of the many loose strands of soft hair behind Beomgyu’s reddening ear with a featherlight touch. His hand lingered against his flushed cheek, as his thumb ghosted over the skin there, tracing the prominent cheekbone. Yeonjun couldn’t look away– he wanted to, he really, badly wanted to, but couldn’t. “I had the pleasure of watching you shine, Beomgyu. Over and over, every passing year– every comeback, watching you grow. You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he said softly, voice thick with some raw, unnamed emotion that made Yeonjun shiver, and his eyes still gleaming with tears that he seemed to refuse to unleash. “Hyung is so proud,” future Yeonjun finished, voice barely above a soft whisper.
They stayed like that for a moment, the silence stretching long as their eyes stayed locked, filled with emotions that Yeonjun was too scared to analyse, worried about what label he would have to give them. Despite the rays of sunlight slowly warming up the entire room, Yeonjun still felt his skin ice cold and his chest aching as he watched future Yeonjun’s thumb non stop brushing over Beomgyu’s pink cheek in a soft, gentle touch.
“Okay, that’s it!” Yeonjun snapped, storming toward the bed and closer to the two boys, like a possessed man. The sharpness of his loud shout shattered the almost cinematic atmosphere between the other two boys causing Beomgyu to flinch, startled, his head whipping in Yeonjun’s direction, while Future Yeonjun reluctantly lowered his hand, with love-sick eyes still locked on Beomgyu’s flushed profile like it was magnetic. “Why do you keep flirting with him? What the hell is wrong with you?” Yeonjun barked at his older self, who still looked dazed– like he’d just been hit by cupid’s arrow right on his ass and had yet to recover.
“Was I?” Future Yeonjun asked, tone lazy, like he genuinely hadn’t planned on flirting. Even though the question was asked by Yeonjun, the older man didn’t even look in his direction, instead he just kept staring at Beomgyu and reached for his hand– still carefully resting on his lap– and gently took it in his, cradling it with an affectionate care that made Yeonjun want to claw at the walls in rage. “Didn’t even realise. Sorry, baby. Hope hyung didn’t make you uncomfortable…”
Baby?
Yeonjun’s right eye twitched– an actual, physical twitch– as the word echoed in his mind, bouncing off the meaty, wrinkly walls of his brain.
Beomgyu quickly shook his head, with wide eyes, visibly taken aback by the pet name too. “No no. Don’t worry, hyung. I’m not uncomfortable…” His round, pretty face looked so warm to the touch and Yeonjun could feel himself getting angrier by the second, about to combust at any moment.
Future Yeonjun smiled, lacing their fingers together. “Good. Let hyung know if he ever crosses a line, okay?”
The younger boy nodded, dazed and practically glowing. Yeonjun, on the other hand, was analysing which one of his pillows would hurt the most if he were to throw it at a certain someone.
“Thank you for answering me, hyung,” Beomgyu said, his voice warm and quiet, the kind of warmth that made Yeonjun feel like he’d just walked in on a confessional he was absolutely not invited to. Slowly, Beomgyu pulled his hand free– discreetly cleaning its sweat against his pajama pants– and stood up, head down to hide his pink cheeks from the future Yeonjun, but revealing his flushed neck to present one. “That was… really nice to hear.”
“You’re welcome,” Future Yeonjun replied, smiling so tenderly it bordered on criminal, before adding, “you can come visit hyung anytime.”
A few minutes before, Yeonjun would’ve been furious at those words– it was his room, not future Yeonjun’s, so who was he to make those sort of invitations? But, at that moment, he was indeed furious, but for another, completely different motive… even though he was still quite unsure what motive that was exactly. His brain was buffering too hard to catch up with his own emotions– and the reason behind them– at that point. Because tha t? That was not normal bandmate behaviour. That was not even close to normal. What he’d just witnessed wasn’t just some casual talk between good friends– that was a whole fucking build-up to a kiss scene in a cheesy drama… and one of the high-budget ones.
Before he left the room, Beomgyu glanced Yeonjun’s way– just for a brief second, so quick he wondered if it actually happened– before disappearing into the hallway, softly shutting the door closed again. Meanwhile, Yeonjun was still very much glued to the floor, trying to figure out what would be the normal, sane way to react to what he had just witnessed happening between Beomgyu and his future self.
“Stop doing this,” he whined finally, stomping one foot like an angry toddler. His lips pouted and eyebrows scrunched. “I’m serious. I’m not okay. This is so not okay. What’s going on between you and Beomgyu?” He really meant to sound angry and intimidating– perhaps make future Yeonjun regret ever waking up in his timeline and flirt with Beomgyu– and not at all like a whiny manchild… Well, too late for that now.
Future Yeonjun looked back at him like he’d grown another head– he sure hoped he hadn’t, because three Yeonjuns in one room would be two too many. “What do you mean what’s going on? I just met him,” he answered, before quickly correcting himself, “I mean, technically. Of course I’ve met him before, but you know– he’s not my Beomgyu.”
Yeonjun’s hands flailed like he was conducting an orchestra of pure, raw, burning rage. “That! That right there!” Finally, he pointed at his older self, with wide eyes, that probably looked terrifying from the way future Yeonjun looked back at him– and an accusatory index finger. “What do you mean ‘my’ Beomgyu, huh?”
With a half-hearted shrug, stinking of poorly faked nonchalance, Future Yeonjun answered, “as in… the Beomgyu from my timeline. Duh.” Despite trying so hard to act casual, it was obvious he was hiding something. Maybe Soobin was right all along– Yeonjun was easy to read.
“Oh, right,” Yeonjun said, voice dripping with sour sarcasm. “Just like how you said ‘our secrets’ back in the living room, huh? For the same reason?”
At getting caught red-handed, future Yeonjun flinched ever so slightly, before nodding too enthusiastically, likely happy that he was given a way to explain that pronoun. “Right. Exactly. Sorry, slip of the tongue.”
The silence that followed was thick with suspicion, as Yeonjun narrowed his eyes, his stare burning into future Yeonjun while the dots slowly connected in his brain. The awkward pauses between sentences, the suspicious behaviour and forced calm, the way this overly confident man was now avoiding making eye contact… His head was turned to the side, facing away from Yeonjun and exposing his hickey on the collarbone– the sunlight hitting it just right to make it practically glow red like an alert sign. That, paired with the dreamy gaze and hand-holding? All those sneaky glances and weird flirting back in the living room?
No.
No way.
Had it been an actual, literal, slip of the tongue?
“You… You didn’t– did you and Beomgyu fuck?!” Yeonjun shouted.
It seemed like a totally irrational conclusion to jump to, so Yeonjun fully expected denial, some screaming and perhaps a dramatic: “How dare you! Are you insane?” Instead, Future Yeonjun groaned and slapped a hand over his face, before muttering quietly– like Yeonjun wasn’t meant to hear– “seriously? Are we really doing this right now?”
Yeonjun took that as a clear confirmation. “Oh my god … you did ! What were you thinking?! I mean, yeah, okay, Beomgyu is stunning, obviously. Like offensively pretty– I get that. But what were you thinking ?!” He was pacing now, hands in his pink hair, pulling it as if that could prevent his thoughts from spiralling.
His mind conjured up images of Beomgyu– how he’d matured, how his round face had thinned, losing some of the baby fat, while still keeping that softness; how his pretty cheeky smile looked more like a tease lately, slowly curving the corners of his lips like a smirk– even though it hadn’t been directed at him in a while. And maybe, maybe , Yeonjun had noticed him looking prettier every passing day– but he never let himself think about it too much.
“He’s our bandmate! He used to trip over his own feet as he chased us around to dance practice and now you’re–?!” His voice cracked into a squeak, mostly talking to himself and his annoying thoughts about Beomgyu at that moment. Beomgyu was strictly off-limits, that much was set in stone. But now his future self was out here apparently ignoring the sacred idol code of conduct like it was a fucking suggestion? An actual fucking suggestion.
“How did it happen?” Yeonjun finally managed to ask, voice quieter now, almost ashamed that he wanted to know more.
Future Yeonjun let out a long sigh, finally raising his head as his fingers brushed his black hair back from his forehead. “Asking about hickeys, now sex… I know you’re not that dumb, Jjunie.”
“Stop!” Yeonjun snapped, fully past the point of pretending he gave a single fuck about respecting his so-called senior. “I’m serious. How did you… and Beomgyu…?”
“Start fucking?” Future Yeonjun offered, voice flat and face far too straight for someone who just said something so very not straight– just like Yeonjun himself.
His sexuality wasn’t a revelation at all. Yeonjun had known he wasn’t straight since his teenage years. Sure, he’d only ever dated women– only gone as far as a few steamy make-out sessions with a few guys– but the fact that he eventually ended up in a sexual relationship with a man? Not shocking in the slightest. But that man being Beomgyu?
That was… entirely different. That made him sweat more than nervousness should allow, his lips suddenly feeling way too dry and his throat tighter than it should be– his entire body suddenly too aware of itself in the most inconvenient of ways.
Yeonjun didn’t like the bluntness of the word ‘f ucking ’ in future Yeonjun’s question one bit, but he tried not to react much to it, since it was obvious the elder just enjoyed getting dramatic reactions out of him. Intead, he gave a small, stiff nod– his shyness obvious despite his best attempts.
Future Yeonjun’s lips curled into a smirk, as if proving Yeonjun’s suspicions of the bastard enjoying this too much right. “Well, it came with the whole dating thing. A very, very enjoyable bonus.”
His weak heart and his leisurely processing brain couldn’t handle any more information, both doing a whole flip– in his ribcage and skull respectively– at every single revelation his future self casually exposed, like he was just letting Yeonjun know what brand of ramyeon he would be eating next friday.
Dating?
Him and Beomgyu weren’t just fucking, not just messing around, but actually dating ? It would’ve made sense, two attractive guys, giving in to temptation, allowing themselves some fleeting entanglement to take the edge off– if they suddenly didn’t mind jeopardising their whole career that was– however dating each other was a completely different story. It meant, holding hands, stealing kisses, going on secret, late-night dates away from the cameras and the fans. It meant care, romance, lo–
“Oh…” was all he managed to utter.
With a dramatically bored groan, future Yeonjun flopped back onto the mattress, stretching his arms over his head. “I’ll give you a moment to process all this,” he said in an unhurried, relaxed tone, closing his eyes back up like he had earlier, right before Beomgyu came knocking on his door. Beomgyu… his future boyfriend– their boyfriend. “Gonna take a nap, yeah? This might take you a while.”
Yeonjun would’ve been very offended, if it wasn’t so true. His brain was still half-way through rebooting after he learned he and Beomgyu would be intimate with each other, still trying to wrap around the concept of their bodies wrapped around each other in just a few years from now– and now future Yeonjun had decided to just drop this huge new piece of lore that the younger boy wasn’t expecting at all: boyfriends. “I’m still stuck on the ‘fucking Beomgyu’ part,” he muttered honestly.
“Yeah you are!” In his peripheral vision he could see future Yeonjun, still laying in the bed, raising one hand as if asking for a quick high five, but Yeonjun was busy staring off into the distance– or a white wall of his bedroom– with his brain was entirely elsewhere, more precisely on what Beomgyu might look like in the future.
Would he be even more beautiful? Would he let his muscles get more defined and his hair a bit longer like he wanted to? Would his gorgeous face light up the room again with that stunning smile– the one Yeonjun missed more than he dared to admit? Would he call Yeonjun’s name the same way he used to– soft, fond and warm– with just as much affection as before their fall out? Then, Yeonjun couldn’t help but imagine hearing Beomgyu’s raspy, whiny voice prettily moaning out his name between broken sobs, lips red from bites and glossy from spit and eyes full of nothing but him. He pictured those very same wet, pink lips pressed against his own, Yeonjun’s hand around his waist, pulling the younger boy’s burning-hot body closer, tanned, clammy skin flushed together against the very same sheets his future self was laying on…
“Can you… tell me more?” Yeonjun asked, suddenly quiet, almost shyly. He knew he could wait– wait for things to unfold naturally, wait for whatever blessed path led Beomgyu to forgive whatever Yeonjun had done and end up in his loving arms, but… he was curious . Future Yeonjun was right there, and they had no idea for how long he would be staying, so curiosity was starting to claw at his throat. Might as well get some info while he could– just to get himself mentally prepared. Just that.
Future Yeonjun sighed, before finally lowering his high-five hand in defeat, letting it bounce against the mattress. “No spoilers. Sorry,” he said, without a single trace of actual remorse– his tone dry and utterly devoid of sympathy. “Besides, you don’t deserve him yet, my Jjunie boy.”
Yeonjun frowned, and tried to stop himself from pouting– that was enough acting like a whiny baby for one day. “That’s not fair… You deserve him and I don’t?”
“Yet . I said yet,” future Yeonjun repeated, slowly opening one eye– the one where a little mole rested under it. “You will. When you stop being a dumbass and open your eyes.” Pretty ironic coming from the dude who refused to open both of his while talking to Yeonjun.
With that, Yeonjun gave up on trying to put a stop to the baby act and sat down in bed next to his older self with wide, pleading eyes. “How am I being a dumbass? I know he’s hurting– I can see it,” he admitted. He knew something had changed, he knew Beomgyu was pushing him away, but... “I just don’t know why.”
Once Yeonjun was done talking, future Yeonjun let out a quiet sigh, but it didn’t sound frustrated or tired, instead it was soft– understanding and familiar. “It’s okay. I’ve been there… You’re still too far up your own ass to see what you’ve done wrong yet.” Yeonjun blinked, not understanding the analogy from the older boy. He tilted his head to the side, waiting for some sort of clarification. However, future Yeonjun didn’t explain, just raised his hand again, this time not to high-five, but to rest on Yeonjun’s back, delivering soft reassuring pats against his spine, like he was coaxing some sort of realisation out of him. “One day, your colon will be head-free and you will see the light, Jjunie.”
“What?” Yeonjun finally asked, now deeply disturbed by this whole intestinal talk.
Another sigh, this time like Yeonjun was a total fool for not immediately getting what the elder was talking about. “You’re just so obsessed with practice, with being the best– with succeeding– that you… completely missed what’s right in front of you, ignored all the obvious signs.”
“Signs?” Yeonjun asked, voice soft, feeling like a toddler repeating back the new word his parents were trying to get him to learn. What signs was he supposed to have noticed until now? What was he missing?
“You already have too much to process right now. But hyung will tell you soon, yeah?” Yeonjun didn’t even correct the honorific, just truly thankful that future Yeonjun was understanding and now set on providing any new information at a snail’s pace. “For now, all you should and need to know is: If you don’t treat him right, I’ll be very pissed, okay?” As soon as Yeonjun opened his mouth to protest, future Yeonjun immediately cut him off. “I know you feel like you already do. But I mean– really treat him right– like he deserves. Spoil him, praise him, make him laugh.” Future Yeonjun sat back up, finally giving up on trying to get some sleep in, his eyes locking onto Yeonjun’s. “Make him feel like he’s the center of the universe– because he is. He’s my everything. I love him.” Yeonjun swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “So please, Jjunie, treat the love of my– our life, right… Okay?
Love of our life.
Shit…
“Wow,” he breathed out. “So you guys… really are in love, huh?”
Future Yeonjun chuckled, a smile resting on his lips. “I’ll just let you interiorise this whole thing first and then I’ll answer anything you want to ask, yeah?” Then, he stood up, brushing nonexistent dust off the damn tight jacket Yeonjun now regretted ever offering him. “I’m getting some water. Talking this much makes my throat all dry,” he said, before stretching slightly.
The movement made the collar of the jacket slip even further down his shoulder, bringing Yeonjun’s attention back to the red hickey– the one Yeonjun could now clearly imagine being left by plush, pink lips he suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about. He could perfectly picture a soft tongue tracing the skin– bringing goosebumps to the back of his neck– before lips wrapped around the spot, sucking and pulling on it until it left a possessive mark. Teeth grazed the sore, fresh hickey as Beomgyu’s lips stretched into a beautiful smile against Yeonjun’s collarbone, proud of his own bruise.
During his horny mental rambling, future Yeonjun had moved towards the door, but suddenly paused, turning back to Yeonjun before asking, “want me to bring you some water too?” His voice was sincere, but his eyes gleaming with mischief and the teasing smirk on his stupidly handsome face betrayed his true intentions. “You sure seem thirsty…”