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By the time their plane touched down in Los Angeles, Yeosang’s sense of time had turned into something unreliable. He followed the others through the jet bridge on muscle memory alone with his bag slung over one shoulder and his noise canceling headphones resting around his neck.
The airport was bright in a way that felt almost aggressive with its bright fluorescent lights and voices that were layered on top of each other until they became a single overwhelming blob of sound. As compared to Incheon, there weren’t as many fans and press around, but still a good number that were together behind barricades near the baggage claim who were calling their names and had their phones out. Yeosang smiled when he was supposed to, bowed when Hongjoong subtly signaled them forward, and even accepted a plushie from a staff member with.
It was nice, but it was also a lot.
Hongjoong was at the front as usual, checking his phone, talking to staff, and counting heads with quick and a counting finger. At one point, he stopped them just past the doors, herding them closer together while a manager told him about their schedules and plans, mentioning a van pickup, going to the hotel to check in, gathering food orders, and mentioning soundcheck in the morning, which was earlier than usual.
“Everyone got their passport?” Hongjoong asked, already knowing the answer.
Mingi smirked. “Yes, dad.”
“Don’t call me that,” Hongjoong said, but there was fondness in his voice.
San by usual fashion had drifted back toward Yeosang as they waited for their vans, close enough that their shoulders touched. He didn’t say anything and just hovered in that way he always did when Yeosang started to go inside of his head just so he could be a steady presence at his side. When they finally moved again, San passed him a small piece of candy from his pocket he saved from the plane as a little treat.
Yeosang took it, his fingers brushing San’s and he gave him a soft smile, to which San felt grateful for.
After a couple of minutes, everyone was in their vans and the van ride went on. Wooyoung talked the entire way, his voice wildly animated despite the hour and long travel, bouncing between food recommendations and complaints about how short their stay was going to be. Jongho had his earbuds in and his eyes closed while Yunho laughed at something Wooyoung said and was chatting with him.
Yeosang watched the city through the window, his forehead resting against the glass. The vibration of the road on the wheels went through his body which was soothing in a way he couldn’t quite explain. His body knew this part of the routine, which meant now was the hotel, now they had to check in, settle, change, and get rest.
He could hold on until then.
They all finally arrived and got out en masse. Inside, the hotel lobby smelled nice of fresh polish. Check in went as usual, the staff handing out keycards and the managers thanking the hotel staff for their cooperation. Hongjoong took control immediately of the rest, sorting out room assignments and doing a head count, making sure everyone knew the wake up calls, and reminding them to hydrate and eat something before bed.
“Don’t stay up late scrolling on your phone guys,” he said , his eyes lingering on Wooyoung and San as he knew them well. “Tomorrow’s going to be rough.”
“Yes, dad,” Wooyoung said, already halfway toward the elevators.
The elevator ride was quiet as everyone’s bodies started sagging as the adrenaline finally drained from them. Yeosang leaned back against the mirrored wall, his eyes half closed as he listened to the soft sound of the passing floors. When they all stepped off onto their level since they were on the same floor, the hallway seemed to stretch long ahead of them.
As the group walked down the hall, everyone murmuring about their own thing or making random noises, Wooyoung seemed to speak up.
“If I don’t eat a burger that is at least five hands tall within the next hour, I am going to die,” Wooyoung announced dramatically as he dropped his bags near the door of his own hotel, finding the card to swipe to get inside.
“You’ve been saying that since we were over the ocean,” Hongjoong said from somewhere down the hall, waiting for Seonghwa to let them inside of their own room. “Eat soon and go to sleep.”
As San opened the door to their shared room, their bags were dropped and their shoes were kicked off. Yeosang stood near the center of the room, his fingers curled tightly around the handle of his bag on his shoulder as he waited for himself to get his bearings.
He felt brittle.
His hands had started doing that faint tremble they only did when everything started to pile up too fast and when his brain couldn’t quite keep up with his body. It seemed as if his plans for tomorrow and everything that happened today started looping in his head and he couldn’t seem to stop it.
He could feel the travel grime on his skin and the thin yucky film of recycled airplane air sticking to him. Even his eyes were starting to get dry and tired. He knew he should shower because he knew it would help make him feel looser, but the thought of standing still under bright lights while his thoughts echoed back at him off tile made his chest tighten.
Maybe going to bed meant maybe, and if the gods above were nice to him, mercifully, sleep.
He just needed to ground himself quickly.
“Yeosangie,” San said gently, breaking into his thoughts. “You okay?”
Yeosang blinked and looked up. San had already kicked off his shoes and was kneeling by the desk as he was plugging in his charger, his voice was welcoming and warm but was roughened slightly by fatigue.
“I’m fine,” Yeosang said automatically, then corrected himself as he found he sounded too defensive. “Just tired, I’m thinking about the setlist.”
San stopped, his hands on his thighs as he was still crouched. His brows knitted together in that small crease that only ever appeared when it was Yeosang. His eyes went over him slowly, taking in the trembling fingers and the way he looked so tense.
“I don’t quite believe that for some reason,” San said. He finally stood up and tossed a hoodie onto his bed from his already unpacked bag. “Go unpack your stuff. I’m going to shower before the hot water disappears.”
“Go ahead,” Yeosang said with a nod, grateful for the escape.
San gathered his belongings needed and went to the bathroom. The bathroom door closed behind him and moments later the sound of the shower filled the room.
Only then did Yeosang let his shoulders relax.
He knelt on the floor, the carpet rough against his knees as he unzipped the front pocket of his bag. This was the thing he needed to do, always first before his skincare, finding his silk pajamas, just anything else.
He immediately reached for the mochi shaped squishmallow Seonghwa had given him years ago, which was pale and soft and worn from too many nights pressed tight against his chest. It was ridiculous he knew to rely on something like that at his age, he knew that, but knowing didn’t make it less necessary.
His hand met empty space.
Yeosang frowned, pushing aside hoodies and was reaching deeper, his fingers brushing silk shirts and the edge of his make up bag. Nothing. His heartbeat began to move faster. He checked his carry on, then the closet knowing he never put anything there, then the floor in case it dropped there, his movements growing faster with each failed attempt.
I left it.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed one of the hotel pillows and pressed it to his chest, squeezing hard.
It collapsed immediately.
It was way too light and empty. It didn’t push back or anchor him and he felt himself drifting upward. What made it worse was that it also didn’t smell like home.
The sound of the shower cut off and Yeosang quickly ran a hand over his face, forcing his expression into something neutral just as the bathroom door opened a few minutes later and San stepped out with a towel around his neck.
“I left it,” Yeosang said before San could ask, his voice fragile. “My pillow, I think it’s at the dorm.”
San just hummed and watched, his eyes soft as he took in the way Yeosang curled in on himself around the useless pillow.
San watched him for a few more seconds before speaking.
“You’re spiraling, Sangie,” he said gently, just simply stating what he saw.
Yeosang shook his head immediately, the movement a little too fast to be convincing. “I’m really not. I’m just tired. It’s fine, San-ah.” He forced a small smile, scooting further into the bed and already reaching for the bedside lamp. “I’m going to sleep, I swear.”
Before San could respond, Yeosang clicked the light off, plunging his side of the room into darkness like he was drawing a line there. He slid under the covers fully clothed and curled up, pulling the hotel pillow tight against his chest.
San hesitated.
Every instinct in him told him that “fine” did not look like this, but he also knew Yeosang’s pride and the way he hated being fussed over when he was already stretched thin. So San nodded to himself, swallowed the urge to push, and went to his own bed.
He sat back against the headboard and picked up his phone, more out of habit than interest and let his thumb idly scrolling through social media posts he wasn’t really reading. He told himself to give Yeosang a few minutes since he just needed time to settle.
Across the room, the bed creaked softly as Yeosang tossed around once before doing it again.
San looked up from his phone and watched as Yeosang seemed to be squirming in bed. He watched him roll slightly onto his back, then onto his side, the pillow held uselessly in his arms. Yeosang adjusted the blanket so that it was up to his chin, then kicked it down again. He pressed the pillow harder to his chest, then scrunched it down as he was trying to find a position that worked.
Nothing did.
Minutes went on like this and oh were they long and uncomfortable. Yeosang’s movements grew more restless like he couldn’t find where he fit on the mattress. Every time he came close to drifting off, his breathing hitched and he jerked awake again.
Having had enough, San set his phone face down on the nightstand.
He counted in his head and time passed by a minute, maybe even two. He told himself that if Yeosang didn’t relax soon, he would say something. If the tossing didn’t stop, he would get up so he just gave Yeosang time, but that still didn’t seem to work.
San stared up at the ceiling, his jaw tight. He hated waiting and pretending not to notice when Yeosang was clearly struggling.
Finally, San let out a slow breath.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He quietly crossed the room, his movements careful as he didn’t want to startle Yeosang or make it feel like a big thing.
He paused for a second at the end of the bed, watching Yeosang curl in on himself before he moved.
The mattress dipped and a wave of heat was felt against Yeosang’s back. San always ran hot, and Yeosang felt ashamed for thinking about how much comfort it brought to him in that split second.
“What are you doing?” Yeosang whispered, heat rising to his cheeks.
“Move over,” San commanded, his voice a low vibration against the back of his neck. “You’re literally stressing out and I can feel it come off of you from across the room, I can’t stand it.”
Yeosang hesitated for a moment contemplating, then finally slid over in bed. San crawled all the way in properly, the scent of his body wash (which was some eucalyptus scent, Yeosang noted) and another wave of body heat with him. San seemed to mold along the curve of Yeosang’s back, chest to back, stomach to spine, like it was nothing.
San draped a sleep heavy muscular arm over Yeosang’s waist, pulling him back until there was no space left between them. His thumb then found the jut of Yeosang’s hipbone and stayed there, absentmindedly stroking in slow, soothing circles.
“I’m more warm and firm than the pillow back at home,” San whispered into the nape of Yeosang’s neck, his breath warm and ticklish against his skin. “Use me instead.”
Yeosang froze completely. San’s arm was heavy, a solid weight that weighed him down into the mattress. Under the press of San’s chest, Yeosang could feel the slow thud of San’s heartbeat and ridiculously and slowly over time as they laid there in bed, Yeosang’s own heart matched it.
Soon enough, the panicked feeling left him and sleep was slowly taking over him. As he was becoming more and more comfortable, Yeosang shifted enough so that he was able to hook his ankles with San’s, anchoring them together.
After a few minutes of laying there, it seemed as if San fell asleep first and that was solidified by the fact that San was slowly breathing, which was marked by a specific sound.
From right behind his ear, a tiny steady sounding whistle came as San breathed out through his nose. It ghosted over the back of Yeosang’s neck, still ticklish that made him squirm slightly every now and then. Each soft sound came with the faintest brush of breath against his skin, with a small flip of his stomach, was proof that San was there alive and holding him tight into the night.
Yeosang didn’t mean to count, but he did.
One whistle…
Two…
Three…
Yeosang’s jaw finally loosened up and his fingers unclenched from the sheets. He realized he didn't have to hold himself together tonight and things were going to be okay, San was there to comfort him.
By the time Yeosang counted to the twelfth whistle, he was long gone into a deep sleep.
✢✢✢
San woke up before the alarm because his body always managed to get into this habit, especially on tour. For a few seconds he didn’t move because he could feel exactly where he was, exactly what he was holding, and the fact that he had apparently become a human weighted blanket sometime in the night.
Yeosang was still curled up in front of him, tucked close to him like the world couldn’t get between them if it tried. San’s arm was still slung over his waist with his chest to Yeosang’s back. The heat between them was absurd but comfortable too.
San breathed in through his nose and regretted it a little because it made something in his chest ache. Yeosang still smelled like clean laundry and the faintest trace of the citrus cologne Wooyoung had drowned himself in at their dorms before they left to come here, but under all of that there was still Yeosang and San had always been a little stupid about that.
San’s gaze went to Yeosang’s face, at least what little he could see from behind, seeing the slack of his mouth and the smoothness between his brows. Good, he seemed peaceful and rested.
The fact that San had anything to do with that made his throat go tight. He had seen Yeosang exhausted before and he had seen him overwhelmed too though Yeosang never called it that. He just got more contained if you will, like he was sealing himself up so nothing could leak out. San had always wanted to be the person who made it easier, even in small ways, even if it meant giving him little shoulder massages or random snacks or hugging on him when he could.
San’s phone was still on the nightstand and he knew that the alarm was about to go off soon. The thought of that made him feel almost angry, which was silly because they were on a schedule and that was life, but still.
He moved slowly, carefully lifting his head just enough to reach for the phone behind him without moving the bed too much. His arm stayed locked around Yeosang, because the second he loosened it he could feel Yeosang’s body instinctively move back even asleep towards him.
San quickly turned the alarm off before it could ring then set the phone back down. He stayed still for a moment longer, breathing slowly so he wouldn’t disturb him and then he began the painful process of extracting himself.
He moved his arm first, slowly sliding it off of Yeosang’s waist like he was pulling a thread from fabric. Yeosang made a small sound into the pillow, the sound so cute that made San’s heart flutter.
San stopped and Yeosang didn’t wake after that.
It hit San in an unexpected way that the simple fact that Yeosang wasn’t stressed out was real, he really was was truly out.
San had always been a little proud of his own ability to knock out anywhere at any time, but he didn’t realize how badly he wanted Yeosang to have that too until now.
He slid out of bed and stood there on the other side of the bed for a second, looking down at Yeosang with a soft smile.
Yeosang’s arm was still wrapped around the hotel pillow but his hold on it had loosened at some point in the night.
San clenched his jaw. He turned toward the bathroom and grabbed his sweatpants from the suitcase and pulled them on. He didn’t want Yeosang to wake up and have his first feeling be his absence.
For some reason, San didn’t know why that mattered so much.
The bathroom light was bright and it woke San up a little more, and kept the bathroom door closed as he brushed his teeth and splashed cold water on his face. When he looked up in the mirror, he looked tired and kind of stupidly happy with himself, which was not a great combination, but he didn’t care.
San took a quick shower and placed his clothes back on before he left the bathroom again. Thankfully, Yeosang was still asleep.
San checked the time. They had to be downstairs in less than an hour. Hongjoong would already be awake already making sure everyone knew where to be and when. If San waited too long, Yeosang would wake up in a rush and that would undo most of whatever last night had done.
So with that, San walked back to the bed and sat on the end of it carefully on Yeosang’s side.
“Hey,” San said softly, reaching out and brushing the back of his fingers against Yeosang’s shoulder. “Sangie…”
Yeosang made a small noise, mostly in protest and turned his face toward the pillow. His hair was a mess, flattened slightly on one side, and San had to really get it together before speaking.
“We have soundcheck,” San said, gently tapping him. “We need to go soon.”
Yeosang groaned and finally decided to give in, his eyes opening and for a second he looked confused like he couldn’t place where he was before he focused on San’s face and something seemed to click, his eyes widening.
San watched the exact moment embarrassment came ove rhim.
Yeosang pushed up onto one elbow before he sat straight up. His ears were pink and he cleared his throat.
“Did I…” Yeosang started then stopped.
San kept his expression soft, knowing where this was heading. “You slept,” San said. “Like, actually slept the entire night. I was worried you were gonna wake up a bunch but you didn’t.”
Yeosang stared at him for a second before looking down because he was oh so shy.
“I-,” he began, and this time he did get the words out but more shy. “...thank you.”
San shrugged like it was nothing. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yeosang’s mouth went into an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry I made it a thing.”
“You didn’t make anything a thing,” San said softer now because Yeosang sounded like he was blaming himself and San hated that. “You were tired, it was fine.”
Yeosang nodded, but his eyes stayed down, fingers worrying at the edge of the hotel covers. He seemed like he wanted to say more and couldn’t.
San stood up before the moment could turn heavy. “Go get ready, we’re going to be late if we move like zombies.”
Yeosang made a sound that seemed like a shy laugh. “I feel like a zombie.”
“You always say that,” San said and it came out fond. Dammit, he turned toward his own side of the bed and went to rummage in his suitcase for some socks before he could get himself caught up more.
Yeosang shuffled toward the bathroom and San listened to the shower run, really doing his best to not to replay the feeling of Yeosang asleep against him. He failed, obviously.
While Yeosang was in the bathroom, San moved around the room, checking his phone for the schedule and making sure his portable charger was packed, even changing again into a more proper shirt rehearsal and organizing a little of his suitcase.
Yeosang came out with slightly more life in his eyes. He didn’t look as shaky as he had last night. He still looked tired, but at least he looked more at ease.
“Better?” San asked, smiling softly over at the latter.
Yeosang hummed, nodding a little. “Yeah, a little.”
They left the room together and as they did so, Wooyoung came out of the adjacent room with his hoodie on and his phone in his hand.
“Good morning,” Wooyoung announced sarcastically to no one, then immediately brightened when he saw them. “Are we getting food or are we doing that thing where we pretend coffee is a meal?”
“Coffee isn’t a meal,” Jongho’s voice called from somewhere behind him in the dorm, emerging as well.
“Glad we’re on the same page, I want a breakfast sandwich so bad,” Wooyoung said back with a smug look.
Hongjoong appeared out of nowhere with a phone in one hand and a paper schedule in the other. He looked at them assessing their states, his leader brain already running a checklist.
“Downstairs in thirty,” Hongjoong said. “Eat something if you can, the breakfast area is still open or you can order something to go. If you don’t feel like eating, at least drink water. We’re going straight to the venue and it’s a hot summer day.”
Seonghwa walked up behind him, tying the ends of his hair back looking like he was somehow both exhausted and put together, which was unfair. His eyes scanned the group quickly before they landed on Yeosang, walking over to him with a gentle look.
“Did you sleep well?” Seonghwa asked, his voice quiet enough so that no one else could hear.
Yeosang’s ears flushed, this time shy. “Yeah.”
Seonghwa’s face immediately softened. “Good.”
San watched the exchange from the side. He knew Seonghwa had given Yeosang that squishmallow as a gift, hell, he’s seen it a hundred times if not more. He also knew Yeosang treasured it, but didn’t realize how important it really was until last night.
He also hadn’t realized until this exact second that Seonghwa would absolutely clock the difference if Yeosang kept sleeping like this. San didn’t know what to do with that thought, so he tucked it away and focused on going to grab a granola bar from the manager and went to place it into Yeosang’s hand when Yeosang wasn’t looking.
Yeosang stared at it then at San. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to eat, San-ah.”
San shrugged. “I know, I’m just making it easier. Getting your stomach ready for something.”
Yeosang softly snorts. “You’re bossy.”
San grinned, relieved at the hint of brightness. “You like it.”
Yeosang made a noise that might have been a scoff, but he didn’t hand the granola bar back.
They all piled into the elevator as it seemed as if they all were going to have to-go breakfast in the van thanks to another member of staff grabbing something from a nearby cafe, then into the two vans, everyone settling in and eating as they all discussed the usual schedules and thoughts that happened when tour life came.
Yeosang sat in the middle row, close to the window. San took the seat beside him without thinking. Wooyoung flopped into the row behind them and immediately began talking about burgers again, wanting one when they were off for the day.
At some point, Yeosang’s head tipped forward and his chin was dropping toward his chest. He was dozing off, but he suddenly jerked awake and blinked hard because he couldn’t even fathom that he was still fatigued. Yeosang then stared out the window with a stubborn pout.
San watched him from the corner of his eye for a while, pretending not to even be doing so. Yeosang’s eyelids kept fluttering and he was trying to sit straighter but his head knocked against the window, Yeosang letting out a soft ‘ouch’.
San hummed, deciding to just be smooth.
He adjusted his own posture first, scooting a little closer and creating less space between them without making it obvious. Then, he lifted his arm like he was stretching, his elbow resting along the back of the seat and his hand hovering behind Yeosang’s shoulder.
Yeosang’s head dipped again and this time it landed not against the glass but against San’s shoulder as San’s hand reached out to gently move his head to safety.
San held his breath and thankfully, Yeosang didn’t pull away. His body settled into the contact slowly like it didn’t fully trust it at first before he then accepted it. His hair brushed San’s jaw and it sent shivers down San’s back, and he loved the way he could feel the warmth of his temple through the fabric of his clothes.
San did his best to stay still and kept his eyes forward like this was normal all while his heart was stuttering and stopping.
Behind them, Wooyoung continued talking, oblivious, and Jongho was poking fun at him while showing him something on his phone. Hongjoong was on his phone, coordinating something with a manager. There was no telling what Mingi, Yunho, and Seonghwa were doing in the other van.
Yeosang just slept on and San was living.
By the time they reached the venue, Yeosang stirred awake. He froze the second he realized where he was and realized he had been leaning on San and his face went hot and red.
He sat up quickly, his lips pursing. “I didn’t mean to-”
San cut him off before the apology could fully form. “It’s fine, Sangie. I guess you were still tired.”
Yeosang glanced at him uncertainly like he was checking to see if San was lying but San wasn’t, especially not about that.
Yeosang’s shoulders loosened up, seeing that San was truthful. “Okay.”
They went through the day, looking around the venue, talking to staff, making sure they planned things out that they wanted to do as last minute ideas. Soundcheck came and went, then wardrobe check, then they left and were free for the rest of the day to explore LA. After a few hours of exploring and sight seeing, they all had a quick dinner together that was thanks to the company, their treat.
San was doing his own thing as well, but he also noticed that Yeosang seemed to be lighter today, which made him feel good. San told himself it was just sleep… yeah, it was only sleep. But every time Yeosang ended up near him, San felt a slight feeling of satisfaction like he did something right.
By the time they returned to the hotel, the sun had fully set and LA was fully alive now, but they all were tired and figured they could explore the area on their days off after their performance tomorrow.
Mingi and Yunho were walking together bickering with each other, Seonghwa eavesdropping while Wooyoung walked with his arm in Jongho’s as he complained about something, making San snort.
Yeosang went into the room he shared with San with the keycard with his shoulders slightly slumped, exhaustion finally catching up with him which made him quiet again, but at least it wasn’t like last night.
San watched him sit on the end of the bed and take out his phone, seemingly checking and texting something.
“You should go ahead and shower, you can take it first since I did last night,” San said, just offering and not nagging.
Yeosang shook his head slowly. “In a minute.”
San knew what that meant. It meant Yeosang might not shower at all if he didn’t have to plus he was too tired.
San didn’t push and just hummed. “Okay, drink some water at least. I am happy you ate a lot of dinner too, if you get hungry let me know and I will order room service.”
Yeosang made a small sound of agreement, then reached for a bottle from his bag and took a few sips, more because San asked and he knew he would nag a little until he took enough
San went into the bathroom first and not because he was trying to claim it just to have first dibs, but because he knew if he showered quickly, maybe the steam and the soapy scent left behind might make it easier for Yeosang to go in afterward and make it more enjoyable. It was a small thing, and oh did San love small things.
He showered quickly, mindful of the time and letting the hot steaming water work through the soreness in his shoulders while his thoughts circled lazily around Yeosang instead of tomorrow’s schedule. When he finally stepped out with his towel around his neck, he left the bathroom door cracked just enough for the steam to spill into the room.
Yeosang looked up from what he was doing.
He stood near the bed for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. San pretended not to watch too closely, busying himself with pulling a clean shirt from his bag, but he clocked the moment Yeosang sighed and nodded to himself.
“I’ll be quick,” Yeosang said, more to himself than to San.
San looked up and smiled. “Take your time.”
Yeosang disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing softly behind him. A few seconds later, the shower turned on and San felt that feeling of satisfaction again. He changed into sleep clothes, folding the ones he worn today, then sat on his bed and checked his phone for the next day’s schedule.
Media, soundcheck again, performance, travel downtown to the next spot in LA, check in hotel, rest.
The sound of running water finally stopped and San found himself looking up almost immediately.
Yeosang came out with his hair damp and longer strands curling slightly at the ends, his skin flushed from the heat and a large black doberman sleep shirt clinging faintly to his shoulders. Somehow, the sight was adorable to San. The steam from the shower also followed him into the room as well as the scent of the soap he used.
San noticed it before he knew better. The soap was different from his own, which was something floral and just barely sweet. It even mixed with San’s eucalyptus scent from earlier and San had to consciously remind himself to keep breathing normally.
Yeosang walked across the room and sat on the edge of his bed, towel draped loosely around his neck as he rubbed at his hair. He looked so soft and comfortable, which brought San joy.
“That helped so much, did a little of my skincare too,” Yeosang said after a moment like he was surprised by it.
San gave Yeosang a big grin, his eyes crinkling. “Told you.”
Yeosang giggled a bit and leaned back on his hands, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. “My head feels less loud now.”
San hummed at that. “That’s good, Sangie. I love to hear it.”
They both were comfy laying in their own beds and they soon went into casual conversation.
“I think the stagefloor felt different today,” Yeosang said, laying like a starfish in the middle of the bed. “Not bad different, you know, just different like it had more give to it, maybe? Or maybe I was just tired and imagining it.”
San hummed in acknowledgment from his bed. “You always notice that kind of stuff.”
Yeosang smiled a little. “Someone has to. If I slip on stage and die, I want it to be on record that I warned everyone and no one listened to me.”
San laughed at that, giving Yeosang a quick look. “Dramatic.”
“Realistic, excuse you,” Yeosang corrected, then kept going without waiting for a response. “And the echo was weird during soundcheck. It bounced back faster than I expected and it felt like it was trying to trip me up. I almost missed my cue for a second during the intro.”
“But you didn’t because you’re a pro, Sangie.”
“Mm, I don’t know, maybe yes,” Yeosang said, a little proud. “I adjusted smoothly.”
He then moved slightly on the bed, growing more animated as he talked with his hands moving even though San couldn’t really see them. “It reminded me of that venue in Berlin, remember? Reminds me, the light set was so cool there, much cooler than here I think.”
San turned his head toward Yeosang, smiling to himself. “You remember venues better than I remember my own choreography sometimes.”
Yeosang giggled behind his hand. “That’s because you don’t obsess over them like I do.”
“I do obsess,” San said. “Just about different things.”
Yeosang glanced over at him, curious as to what he was on about. “Like what?”
San shrugged, pretending to think about it longer than he actually needed to. “Like making sure no one runs on three hours of sleep.”
Yeosang snorted. “You mean me?”
“I didn’t say that,” San said defensively and quickly.
“You didn’t have to.”
They shared a smile with each other.
After that, Yeosang kept talking about little things that had stuck in his head throughout the day, like how Wooyoung had almost knocked over a lighting stand because he was too busy yappoing, how Seonghwa was always so sweet and making sure everyone was okay aside from himself, how Hongjoong had looked tired himself but still somehow pulled everything together like he always did, and how Mingi and Jongho were gonna go about doing a prank on Yunho.
San listened, offering the occasional response, a hum here, a laugh there, sometimes a small comment just to let Yeosang know he was still with him.
“You know,” Yeosang said after a while. “I don’t usually talk this much.”
San smiled, looking away from his phone that he was engrossed in. “I’ve noticed.”
Yeosang turned his head slightly, embarrassment creeping in. “Sorry. I’m just really comfortable, I guess.”
San didn’t even hesitate, not wanting the latter to feel like a bother. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“...Oh,” Yeosang said softly. “Okay.”
He yawned then, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth a second too late. His ears went pink almost immediately. “Sorry again.”
San laughed, so fond of Yeosang at the moment. He was so silly and cute. “You’re really determined to apologize tonight.”
Yeosang smiled sheepishly. “Habit.”
“Well,” San said, putting his phone up and nestled further into his pillows. “You can break it here.”
Yeosang was quiet after that and San could feel the conversation taper off naturally. He looked over just in time to see Yeosang’s eyes drooping again, his body aching for sleep.
San decided that that was enough and he reached over to turn off his lamp on his side of the room, Yeosang’s having been off already and all that was in the room was the city lights coming into the window.
They lay in their beds, San getting comfy under the covers and listening hard, thinking Yeosang was asleep but heard a slight shuffle on the other side of the bed.
“San?”
“Yeah?”
Quietness…
“Can you come over here again…?”
San didn’t answer right away because he didn’t want to sound too eager. He managed to get free from his own comfy spot in bed and crossed the room anyway before sitting on the edge of Yeosang’s bed long enough to make sure this was still okay.
Yeosang moved closer instead of pulling away.
Taking that as confirmation, San got in bed properly and laid down behind him, fitting himself along Yeosang’s back. His arm came around Yeosang’s waist and pulled him in until there was no space left. As he adjusted, his face ended up near the crook of Yeosang’s neck.
The scent hit him again, mostly clean soap, skincare, and warm skin, so characteristically Yeosang.
San froze for a bit then softened, breathing in slowly without thinking about it. The scent was grounding and he just wanted to inhale every bit of it. Yeosang moved until he was completely against San and San felt something in his chest just explode.
“You good?” San asked, trying to play it cool (but he was so not cool).
Yeosang nodded, his voice deep, drowsy, and slightly with a lisp. “Yeah, so comfy.”
San smiled into the dark, his forehead resting lightly against Yeosang’s shoulder. He inhaled again, quieter this time as he was careful not to make a thing of it and let his breathing even out.
A few minutes later, his nose whistled softly on an exhale, and he hoped it was not a bother to Yeosang since it was something he couldn’t help, but it seemed as if Yeosang relaxed instantly.
San felt it and closed his eyes, holding on tight and listening to Yeosang’s breathing even out and slow as he drifted off, even thinking to himself as he fell asleep that if this was what helping Yeosang felt like, he could do it for as long as Yeosang needed.
✢✢✢
The days seemed to just melt together the way they always did on tour, everything ranging from them getting on their flights and vans and performances that all felt different and exactly the same but also different.
Along witht his, San stopped pretending the nights were temporary since they were sleeping in these arrangements often.
He didn’t even ask anymore when it was time to sleep or stood at Yeosang’s bed asking for permission, because as soon as Yeosang finished showering and the room went into darkness, San crossed the room and nestled up behind him, telling Yeosang to come closer and spooning him, to which Yeosang never resisted.
Some nights Yeosang pretended he was just tired and that he was only letting it happen because he knew it worked and other nights he didn’t pretend at all. Yeosang would just come closer on his own, his back fitting perfectly to San’s chest before fully letting his body go limp.
San also noticed how fast Yeosang slept now. At first it had taken minutes, Yeosang counting breaths and whistles as his body was trying to relax but now it took seconds. Sometimes San barely finished getting comfortable before Yeosang’s body went heavy in his arms.
On days when the schedule dragged them through early mornings and late rehearsals, Yeosang started seeking out San without thinking.
In vans, Yeosang often still fought the urge to doze off and San watched him from the corner of his eye, waited for the moment his chin dipped, then moved to pull Yeosang in as usual.
From Yeosang’s side, it happened without conscious decision. One moment he was trying very hard not to doze and lean on anyone, the next his cheek was pressed against San’s chest, his body heat and scent seeping into him in a way that made him just unwind.
He never remembered falling asleep or letting himself fall into San’s hold.
San didn’t mind though, just always adjusting every time and angling his body so Yeosang wouldn’t wake with a sore neck.
Hell, at one point, Jongho even noticed.
“Are you two glued together now?” he teased, peering over the seat with a shit eating grin.
San didn’t even look up, reaching back to lightly smack Jongho’s cheeks and pinching them to which Jongho scoffed and immediately went back into his seat. “Mind your business.”
✢✢✢
On stage it was worse, or better if you’re into that.
During down moments on soundcheck or during ments, San’s eyes and hands found Yeosang constantly, settling at his waist and trying to sneak and hold his hand during ments, his fingers squeezing whatever he could hold reassuringly when Yeosang spoke into the mic. At the end of shows, San pulled Yeosang in close without thinking, his arm around his shoulders without a care.
Yeosang always tried to pretend he wasn’t into it, even teasing him, but he internally enjoyed it and leaned into it every time.
Cameras even caught them together and lit them up on the screen on stage, seeing how Yeosang was smiling softer beside him than he did anywhere else. No one commented on it outright, but the members noticed the way Yeosang always ended up near San and knew he was always going to be okay.
But even Seonghwa noticed the difference.
One night backstage after a day two concert while Yeosang was distracted with staff, Seonghwa walked over to San and leaned in to whisper to him. “He looks better than before he started here, that’s lovely.”
San followed his gaze to where Yeosang was, where Yeosang was now laughing at something Wooyoung and Mingi were bickering about now.
Pleased, San hummed. “He’s sleeping well these days, I think that’s why.”
Seonghwa smiled, gentle and knowing what was up. “Good.”
As curious as he was, San didn’t ask how he knew.
✢✢✢
Some nights on their arrangements just like the first night, San fell asleep first.
Yeosang would lie there awake for a few extra minutes listening as San’s breathing deepened and the little whistle settled into a nice steady rhythm. San’s arm would grow heavier around him, which felt better than it did when he was still awake and Yeosang had dozed off first.
From Yeosang’s side, it did something strange to his chest. He liked knowing San felt safe too, and liked the way San slept like this all close and unapologetic, often in control. Sometimes Yeosang would turn in his sleep without realizing it, ending up face to face with San with his forehead pressed against his collarbone.
San woke up to that once.
He froze when it happened, his heart pounding loud in his ears. Yeosang’s face was mere inches from his, his long pretty lashes resting against his flushed cheeks and shadows over his red birthmark by his eye, his slow breath warm against the base of his throat. He couldn’t even think of moving too much, so he just lifted his hand and brushed his thumb lightly along Yeosang’s cheek, just barely touching.
Yeosang sighed and moved closer into that touch. San stayed awake for a long time after that, his heart and mind screaming things at him he really didn’t have the time to decipher.
✢✢✢
The next city came after their performance last night, and everything should have been peaches and cream routine wise, but it really wasn’t.
It was last minute and that was the part that irritated San the most.
They were backstage when the mishap came through when one of the managers scrolled through their phone with a sigh. “Hey, quick thing everyone. We got a room shuffle tonight. Someone updated the assignments wrong back at the company when making the itinerary, it will be back to normal after tonight.”
San barely looked up from what he was doing, a little over the day as he was tired. “We’re already assigned though, nothing’s changed for years.”
“Yeah,” the manager said apologetically. “But the numbers were off, it’s just for tonight, again, back to normal tomorrow.”
San felt a little irritated, but glanced instinctively toward Yeosang who was a few steps away talking softly with Yunho.
“Who’s with who then?” San asked.
The manager checked the list. “San, you’re with Yunho for and Yeosang, you’re with Wooyoung.”
Yeosang looked over at his name, his brows knitting together for a second before smoothing over in confusion before accepting it, his face going back blank.
“Okay then, no biggie.”
San opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. There was no reason to object, it was out of his control and that was how they kept track of everyone. Still, he felt a slight feeling of unease creep onto him.
✢✢✢
The hotel room felt wrong the moment Yeosang stepped into it. Wooyoung kicked off his shoes dramatically and flopped onto the bed closest to the window, already halfway through complaining about his feet. Yeosang smiled and unpacked his things, telling himself it was fine. It’s his best friend after all, he was comfortable with Wooyoung, but sometimes he needed peace and quiet, bless his heart.
It was just one night.
He showered, hoping the hot water would soothe him, but when he climbed into bed afterward and subtly hugged the hotel pillow to his chest because anyone else seeing him doing that would make him feel ashamed, the absence of his regular pillow… and San, more than anything, hit harder than he expected. The room was too wide and the mattress felt weird in a way that went beyond texture.
He finally laid on his side facing away from Wooyoung and started listening to the city outside and the sound of Wooyoung scrolling on his phone.
His body waited for sleep to come. Yeosang hated that part most, the waiting.
He kept expecting the mattress to dip behind him and body heat envelope him, expecting that firm arm to come around his waist like it always did but no, his breathing stayed shallow and his body stayed tense.
Wooyoung yawned loudly on the other side of the room after twenty more minutes, and Wooyoung put his phone on the charger before blowing Yeosang a goodnight kiss. “Night, Sang.”
“Night night,” Yeosang said back tiredly.
A few minutes later, Wooyoung was asleep and Yeosang was not.
The pillow felt useless in his arms as it was not weighted and totally useless. He even tried to recreate the position he got used to over the last few weeks, but it didn’t work. Yeosang, stupidly, even strained for a sound he knew wasn’t coming.
None of San’s soft whistle sounds when he breathed, no warm breath against his neck, or an arm tightening when he even seemed like he was going to move away when he really wasn’t.
His chest tightened and Yeosang could feel the stress start to come over him so he rolled onto his back and started staring at the ceiling, counting his breaths that refused to slow.
By the time sleep finally came to him, it was terribly broken.
Across the hall, San was also laid awake staring at the ceiling.
Yunho had fallen asleep quickly, his tall body sprawled comfortably on his side. San envied him a little but honestly, he resented him more than that. His body felt wrong without something to hold, so much for muscle memory.
He rolled onto his side and hugged the pillow out of pure irritation and of course, that did nothing.
San sighed hard and shoved it away. He didn’t like how aware he was of the empty space beside him.
This is stupid, I seem to not be able to sleep alone for one night.
Even then, he barely slept.
The next morning, they seemed to have drifted towards each other. San spotted Yeosang near the coffee station in the hotel breakfast area before Yeosang saw him and the sight made him weak in the knees. Yeosang looked exhausted himself, just as San felt.
San walked over and joined Yeosang, a hand resting on the small of his back. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
Yeosang was a little shocked at San’s presence, but then nodded. “Of course I am okay.”
San didn’t believe him for a second, so he reached out and squeezed Yeosang’s shoulder in a grounding manner. Yeosang leaned into the touch instantly like his body had been waiting for it, almost missing it.
San smiled a little at that. “Tonight we’re back together.”
Yeosang looked up at him, relief coming across his face before he could mask it properly. “We are.”
Neither of them commented further, but they went the entire day knowing they would be able to have proper sleep for the night again.
That night when they both were back in their rooms at the new hotel, San didn’t wait for anything.
San didn’t even let Yeosang unpack alone, just hovering around his space as he didn’t seem to want to let him out of his space.
They showered, changed, and moved around each other, both at ease but there was something more layered there as well. When the lights finally went off after they chatted and gossiped, the room went back into its usual quietness.
San didn’t even wait for anything and went over to Yeosang’s bed where he laid down behind Yeosang and pulled him into the usual position of his arm around his waist and chest to back, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Yeosang exhaled as soon as they were comfortable.
“Better?” San asked softly against the back of Yeosang’s neck, resisting the urge to kiss it for some reason.
Yeosang nodded, pressing back just enough to make his answer unmistakable. “So much better, so happy.”
They lay there for a while without speaking as their breaths synced. San could feel how Yeosang was gradually relaxing even.
San hummed, nuzzling into Yeosang’s nape.
“That sucked,” he said finally, feeling like he just admitted to something deep.
Yeosang stilled slightly. “What?”
San thought for a moment, his jaw tightening as if he was arguing with himself and really he was. His arm tightened instead, holding Yeosang closer as he decided to just go with it.
“Being in different rooms, I didn’t like it.”
Yeosang was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke. “Me neither.”
San let out a slow breath, something easing in his heart but also something else flaring painfully bright. He pressed his nose lightly into the back of Yeosang’s hair, inhaling his scent and feeling comfort.
“I didn’t sleep,” San admitted. “You know, I kept waking up feeling like something was missing.”
Yeosang squirmed a bit, turning just enough so that he was facing him now and that his forehead brushed San’s collarbone. San felt that it was so intimate.
“Oh,” Yeosang whispered, his fingers holding onto San’s shirt hem loosely.
San couldn’t even admit he was about to say this.
“I missed you.”
San expected Yeosang to react weirdly, but Yeosang didn’t move away and if anything, he moved closer, his hand now curling into the front of San’s shirt, his breath shaky as he inhaled.
“I missed you too,” Yeosang said just as softly, and oh did San’s heart stutter. He tightened his hold on Yeosang, his nose now burying into the top of Yeosang’s head.
“Sleep, I got you.”
Yeosang hummed faintly in response, already drifting off as his body recognized San as safety. San felt his body slowly go heavy in his arms and a few breaths later, Yeosang’s breath slowed and got heavier.
San’s nose continued to do it’s little whistle in Yeosang’s hair, and the still brought comfort, making Yeosang relax even more.
San closed his eyes as well and just kept holding him, his heart doing flips as he drifted off.
✢✢✢
Somehow, the last week after the tour ended felt weird.
There were final dinners where everyone was laughing and drunk, full of joy and energy, everyone’s voices loud and unfiltered now that no one had to preserve their energy for any performances. There were also drunken toasts with staff and promises to rest and do better for the next time they have a tour. Someone even suggested sightseeing, others even suggested sleeping for a week straight.
Well, technically they all did both.
For a few days, they wandered cities, ate almost all the different types of food they came across, and sat in parks and cafes like normal people instead of performers. While out with Wooyoung and Mingi one night, San stayed close to Yeosang without even noticing he was doing it and Yeosang didn’t mind one bit.
On their last night abroad, they slept together again. Despite the obvious, they didn’t talk about the fact that it was the last time. That was too painful for now. Yeosang instead just cuddled closer than usual, fitting himself into San’s hold like he was trying to never forget it.
Going home seemed to reel them back into real life though. At the airport, the group broke off naturally, some members already talking about schedules waiting for them in Seoul and Japan while others were planning to disappear into their beds for a few days or visit some family and friends.
San snuck up beside Yeosang and stood there for as long as he could without it being obvious.
“Text me when you get settled at home, I think I have a little bit of something to do after I land,” he said, a hand reaching to soothe Yeosang’s lower back.
Yeosang nodded, really trying his best to not make it obvious he was sad about the end of everything. “I will.”
They separated without further word to board their private plane, and somehow that was heartbreaking.
✢✢✢
Everyone finally landed, and after decompressing with the manager after they went to their apartment complexes, everyone was well on their way. Seonghwa, Mingi, and Wooyoung were off to spend time with their family now that they were back, Jongho was hanging with some idol friends and had plans to visit his family as well, Yunho had plans to fly out to Japan for a schedule later in the day, Hongjoong had a filming to do for an upcoming birthday project, and San had plans to go and eat with some friends and do a solo night walk to buy a limited edition figure he was so excited about, which left Yeosang back at the dorm alone by himself.
Yeosang’s dorm felt weirdly good.
It was comfy and nice in a way that made his shoulders loosen the second he stepped inside, the place still clean and welcoming after three months away from it. Yeosang kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag by the door, and immediately went to his bedroom and to the shelf where his favorite mochi pillow sat waiting for him, clearly having forgotten it like he thought he did that first night in North America.
He laughed under his breath when he picked it up.
“There you are, silly thing,” he said fondly, squeezing it tight.
It smelled like him, just like his washing detergent and their shared home. He hugged it against his chest as he wandered around the room, unpacking slowly and setting things back where they belonged. After finishing that, he tossed it onto the couch where he went to take the longest shower ever before settling beside it on the couch while he scrolled through his phone, then pulled it back into his lap while he sorta kinda watched a show he out on missed while on tour and couldn’t catch up on since it wasn’t on any other streaming services.
It felt good to be back and especially reunited with his pillow, it really did.
Every so often though, a strange thought nudged at the back of his mind and it was easy to ignore at first. The pillow was fine and just as he wanted and expected, but his body kept waiting for something else.
Yeosang frowned slightly, then shook it off.
You’re just tired, jetlagged…
He spent hours like that, comfortably cocooned in a blanket now and squeezing the squishmallow absentmindedly every now and then just trying to convince himself that things didn’t change as much as he thought they did.
He failed to convince himself as such until he finally got up to brush his teeth for the night and changed into silk pajamas that the thought returned, clearer this time that clearly, things were different now.
San’s night was busy for the most part. He ate too much, laughed a lot with his friends, and let himself be distracted by his walk downtown since his plans of getting the limited edition figure fell through since they were sold out. He didn’t even let his thoughts sit long enough to wander anywhere dangerous because for the last few days, they really were getting into a risky area and he wasn’t ready, but eventually he had to be ready.
He got back home to his dorm way later than he meant to, it was past midnight by this point.
The dorm was quiet when he stepped inside, so he was alone for the night. San moved through the dorm to his room, showered, changed, and went through his nightly routine, just so thankful for the fact that he was home again and had structure again.
He decided to catch up on two episodes of his favorite dating reality show before deciding to call it a night, and when he went to lay down did everything finally catch up with him.
His arm drifted out on instinct and of course, it hit nothing.
San stared at the wall, sighed slowly, then rolled onto his side now annoyed at himself for noticing so quickly. He reached for his phone checked the time.
Now it was way late to pretend this was fine.
✢✢✢
Yeosang decided to call it a night as well and trudged to his bedroom, the mochi pillow under his arm as he fixed his bed properly to hop in it. He got inside and hugged the pillow, truly so happy to have it back.
For a while, the pillow worked in making him comfortable and he was sleepy enough to doze off at any time, but then his body waited for something.
No body heat, no firm body, no whistle breathing, no commanding tone that told him to stay put and just go to sleep, no arm over his waist, nothing. He was all alone.
It reminded him that he had felt this earlier, didn’t he? He couldn’t help that something felt missing, even though he was comfortable and doing his own thing.
Now Yeosang was embarrassed.
Three months of sleeping with San, and now he couldn’t even sleep without him.
He turned onto his side, hugging the pillow tighter before moving onto his back after a while, staring at the ceiling.
It’s not that I can’t sleep, it’s that I learned how to sleep with him and how humiliating is that now that I am alone?!
The thought made his face burn.
Just as Yeosang was about to sit up, his phone vibrated under his pillow.
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:12AM)
are you awake sangie?
Yeosang (3:13AM)
i am, why?
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:14 AM)
i just got back not too long ago actually, did you manage to catch up on any yet?
Yeosang (3:14 AM)
not really
just decided to lounge around and do things, wanted to work out but for once, i was lazy
you?
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:15 AM)
nope
been staring at my ceiling up until now
Yeosang (3:15 AM)
oh i see
it’s kinda weird being home so maybe the vibes are off haha
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:16 AM)
i was thinking the same thing
it feels too quiet but i think because im home alone and all
Yeosang (3:17 AM)
oh! you’re alone too, i am since yunho has to go to japan ofc.
but it is lonely…
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:17 AM)
are you okay?
Yeosang (3:18 AM)
i think so
i just can’t really get comfy
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:19 AM)
do you want me to come over?
or do you want to come over?
Yeosang (3:19 AM)
if you’re not tired
can you come over instead?
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:19 AM)
i am tired but i dont think sleep can fix this one, i am a little restless^^
Yeosang (3:20 AM)
okaaaay
pls
you can come over
Sannie 😼🩶 (3:20 AM)
be there in a minute! don’t move 😼
✢✢✢
When San finally knocked on the dorm door after five minutes, Yeosang opened the door barefoot with his squishmallow tucked awkwardly under one arm and a sheepish grin, his hair in his face hiding his eyes that were looking quickly from the floor, to the wall, then San and all over again.
They both just stood there staring at each other for a few seconds, both suddenly aware of how long it had been since they seen each other like this and not in a hotel, but hanging out outside of their arrangement they had.
“Hey,” San said softly, smiling that soft smile that always had Yeosang’s heart racing.
“Hey you,” Yeosang repeated, gripping the doorknob tight before moving back so San could come inside.
San stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it before he took off his bedroom slippers by the shoe rack. They stood there again, neither of them moving and just smiling at each other a little too nervously.
“This is really weird,” Yeosang said, brushing his hair back behind his ears because it truly was weird, it felt like something was stopping them.
San couldn’t agree more, and let out a laugh. “It really is, but not in a bad way though.”
They both walked into Yeosang’s bedroom and they both got settled into the bed, Yeosang on the right side while San was on the left, San making sure to leave space in between them to make sure Yeosang was comfortable first.
For a while, they just talked about any and everything. Yeosang rambled about the show he watched earlier, how much he missed his pillow and that it really was left on the shelf which he was grateful about because if he lost it anywhere else he would have been sick, and about how strange it felt to be back in his own room after months of living out of suitcases.
San didn’t talk much about himself and just listened instead, smiling to himself at how cute Yeosang was when he would speak so quickly and his eyes would sparkle, even humming in response or offering soft commentary. After a while, there was a lull in conversation, and San decided now was good to speak.
“You know Sangie, I thought it would be fine,” he said, his eyes dropping to the floor as he was trying to figure out his words. “But turns out it wasn’t.”
Yeosang nodded, the motion slow and thoughtful. “Same here actually.”
San’s hand unconsciously moved towards Yeosang’s own without much input from his brain before he caught himself and stopped, hovering there like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to even hold Yeosang’s hand.
Yeosang saw and instead of commenting, he moved closer and let their pinky fingers interlock for a few seconds before his fingers curled into the sleeve of San’s hoodie, the act feeling much more intimate for him.
Yeosang decided to just bite the bullet as his brain was turning into mush with how much was on his mind. “I think I didn’t realize how much I relied on you until tonight,” he said softly, his cheeks burning. “Do you get it? Not bad, but wow, I felt it even while I was happy today.”
San turned fully toward him then, curious about what he was going on about. Somehow, it unlocked something in him, and oh was it tumbling down.
Now it was his turn.
“That just gives me room, but Yeosangie, I’ve been holding this in for so long,” San said, his voice feeling full somehow like it was going to explode out of him. “I think I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to mess things up or make you uncomfortable, but also because I didn’t realize how serious things were for me.”
Yeosang’s heart started racing, heat blooming up his neck.
“I think I’ve liked, no- loved you for a long time, so so long,” San went on. He then let out a small but so big breath, mostly in disbelief in himself. “I just kept telling myself it was something else because really, was what I was feeling really actually what it was?”
There was a moment of stunned silence where Yeosang blinked so hard, you thought you could hear it. He was in shock.
“Sannie, you…” He let out a light, breathless laugh, more shocked than amused, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth. “That’s… wow. That’s really unfair.”
San frowned slightly, confused and a little panicked now. “Why?”
Yeosang finally turned his head, meeting San’s eyes full on as his cheeks were fully pink now, so much so that it extended to his already red birth mark which made it even more blazen. “I think it’s unfair because I think I fell in love with you while you were holding me every night, no that was a lie, I think it made me fall in love with you even more and I didn’t notice it happening until you weren’t there with me tonight.”
San froze, then his face did something very San-like, his brows raising and his eyes widening like a startled cat, color rushing into his face. He then laughed, mostly in disbelief as the info didn’t really hit him yet.
“Wait,” San said. “You- what, really? Sangie, is this right?”
Yeosang nodded, embarrassed but smiling as his shoulders hunched up slightly as if bracing for impact. “Yeah… I really like you, San-ah.”
San made a tiny little strangled sound before he could stop himself, dropping his forehead forward until it rested against Yeosang’s shoulder. His hand tightened in Yeosang’s sleeve now just to ground himself.
“Oh,” he breathed, feeling manic now. “Oh my god...”
Yeosang laughed too, all nervous and warm like the sun as he wrapped an arm around San’s torso. They stayed like that for a while, just hiding into each other and smiling and giggling with each other.
When San lifted his head again after getting himself together, his face was still stunned but so full of softness and love. “I can’t believe you like me back,” San said, so amazed.
Yeosang shyly shrugged. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner.”
There was so much tension between them now, especially that they were inches apart now, the air between them charged. San’s thumb brushed against Yeosang’s knuckles, hesitant as he wanted to make a move.
“Can I…?” he asked softly, wanting to get all the permission he ever could get.
Yeosang nodded immediately, heart pounding. “Yes, please.”
San could have exploded if it was possible, and with a big spark of energy, he held back a happy giggle and leaned in to close the gap, their lips meeting in a kiss that was slow and careful, San taking his time with it. San barely even kissed him like he was afraid to startle Yeosang into changing his mind but no, Yeosang wanted this so much. Yeosang melted into it instantly, his hands curling into San’s shirt to keep him close.
San smiled into the kiss, his breath shaky before pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Yeosang’s.
“You okay?” he whispered, his eyes searching Yeosang’s pretty brown eyes, the very ones he loved looking into so much whenever he could get the chance.
Yeosang nodded, his eyes bright with admiration. “Mhm, it’s just so… wow.”
San laughed at that and was still a little stunned before he pulled him in properly then, his arms wrapping around him in a tight hug.
“So,” San asked in a soft tone. “What now?”
Yeosang hummed as he was thoughtful, his thumb coming down and brushing over San’s knuckles in a small, grounding motion. “We take it slow I assume?”
San nodded immediately, completely on board with it. “Yes, Sangie, of course. Whatever pace you want, I will do it but also just know that I’m not going anywhere.”
Yeosang looked at him, not too sure where San was going with this, but he had a feeling of what it was and it made him feel so tender and overwhelmed inside.
San took a deep breath then let himself say it. “If you still need it, you know, the whole holding, the pillow thing, I can be your pillow as long as you want and need.”
Yeosang’s breath caught. That was so unexpected, and he really didn’t know what to do with it.
“You really would?” he asked, not sure if this was real.
San smiled fondly and reached up to cup Yeosang’s face in his hands just to kiss him on the forehead. “Always.”
That was enough for Yeosang, and he came closer to San, immediately snuggling further into his body that was so firm and warm as he remembered, their hold on each other feeling so good as it was before. San kissed the top of Yeosang’s head just as he came to lay on top of San this time around, his head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as San’s arm settled on top of him keeping him close.
They both seemed to drift off at the same time, Yeosang smiling in his sleep.
Behind him, Yeosang’s pillow was nestled on its own pillow, keeping watch over the both of them.
They both got just what they wanted and needed.