but who could stay

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52713418.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: ENHYPEN (Band)
Relationships: Lee Heeseung/Yang Jungwon, Minor or Background Relationship(s),
Kim Sunoo/Park Sunghoon (ENHYPEN), Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun
Characters: Lee Heeseung, Yang Jungwon (ENHYPEN), Other ENHYPEN
Member(s), Choi Beomgyu Cameo(s)
Additional Tags: Lee Heeseung-centric, Character Study, Canon Compliant, Fluff and
Angst, Getting Together, breaking news: the most effortlessly talented
man you know is actually a tryhard (fond), past unrequited heegyu, set in
2023 pre-bite me, heeseung has ISSUES, he gets those from me,
introspection and overthinking: my brand
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-01-01 Words: 12,273 Chapters: 1/1
 but who could stay
by mercruial

Summary

Heeseung understands all those things. The loneliness of it all, the solitude that comes
with wanting what you can’t have; coveting what isn’t yours; trying, always, for
something more. But there’s more to it–the matter of staying, despite it all. The kind of
bravery it takes to want someone badly enough to keep them close, against your better
judgment.

He looks at Jungwon–pretty, patient, understanding Jungwon, who hates to be kept at

arm's length–and his heart twists.

Lee Heeseung: artist, idol, tryhard. Enter Yang Jungwon.

spin off to still on that trapeze

Notes

(alternatively: heeseung’s friends get into relationships and it sends his chronically single,
workaholic, emotionally unavailable ass into a spiral. simultaneously, he starts realising how
attractive and lovely and supportive jungwon is, which also sends him into a spiral.)

HAPPY NEW YEAR! what better way to enter 2024 than with gay people. it's a good omen
for the year ahead.

anyway, i would like to preface this by saying i am obsessed with heeseung in a way that
should get me locked up. he is the most talented, hottest, sexiest boy i know. but this fic is
NOT about that. i'm PROJECTING here. the most perfect boy you know is also Just A Boy.
he goes through things too. he overthinks too. he needs to be comforted and loved too. please
listen to the archer by taylor swift it is imperative to the reading experience and
understanding of this fic. limbo by keshi and superposition by daniel caesar are also very
poignant. thank you. enjoy

one more note: this is a spinoff to my sunsun fic, still on that trapeze. you don't need to read it
to understand what happens in this fic, but it takes place a couple months after the end of that
one!

See the end of the work for more notes

 Easy they come, easy they go
I jump from the train, I ride off alone
I never grew up, it's getting so old
Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer

I've been the prey
Who could ever leave me, darling?
But who could stay?

(the archer, taylor swift)

Heeseung has wanted to be an idol since he was six years old.

At the time, he hadn’t put a name to the dream–all he knew was that he wanted to sing.
Dreaming at that age was a much simpler affair. He could simply yearn for something, with
all the naivete of a child, not knowing the countless years of effort, exhaustion and rejection
that lined its path. He could perform in front of his amused, supportive family, with none of
the insecurity and stage fright that would bog him down in later years. He could take piano
lessons, guitar lessons, and listen to old ballads with his parents and wonder why they were
so boring and slow, still too young to appreciate the beauty of them.

As Heeseung got older, the dream seemed to slip further and further away from his grasp, no
matter how hard he tried. In some ways, he still felt like that kid. A naive, lonely little
dreamer. Whether it be his nerves that got the better of him at an important school audition,
or the physical and emotional exhaustion of trainee life, or the chances that kept slipping
from his grasp as friends debuted without him–there was always something holding him
back.

Even when he was given another chance, it came with a caveat. Only if he made it to the
bitter end. Only if he could handle the mental, social and emotional horrors of survival show
television. Only if he was willing to wait, vulnerable, with bated breath, for his debut to be
announced in front of people he once considered potential members; old friends who, in
another life, he might’ve been sitting with instead.

He debuted; a dream, realised. But then what? What do you do, when you get everything
you’ve ever wanted, and it still doesn’t feel like it’s yours?

Heeseung is still trying to figure that one out.

•••

If asked, Heeseung would not consider himself a lonely person.

On the contrary; he lives and works with six other boys, even has a few good friends outside
that, and contacts his family as often as he can, given the circumstances. They work with an
absurd amount of staff daily, and a good chunk of their schedules involve interacting with
hundreds (if not thousands) of fans. If anything, he revels in the rare slice of quiet he can only
get at their dorm.

That sort of privacy is rare these days, though, with their living situation being what it is.
Boundaries don’t really exist when you’ve lived, worked and trained with the same six
people for years, and now two of them are even dating. Sunghoon and Sunoo getting together
came as a surprise to none of them, but the last couple of months have still been an
adjustment for everyone.

Which ultimately leads to this: Yang Jungwon, in Heeseung’s bed.

But not for the reasons one would normally expect. The thing is, no one wants to see
Sunghoon and Sunoo cuddling all the time, so Jungwon and Ni-ki often find other places to
be until it’s absolutely time to sleep. Heeseung’s room seems to be the most popular option.

He’s too indulgent with them, horrible at saying no, which Jungwon has taken advantage of
tonight. Heeseung doesn’t hate it, though. It’s a little different, but it’s not unpleasant, nor is
it all that disruptive of his usual routine. He stays at his computer anyway, and Jungwon
leisurely scrolls through his phone, probably replying to fans on Weverse. The alternative to
this is Ni-ki barging into his room and demanding they play Fifa or something similar, so
Jungwon is a nice, quiet change of pace.

Until, you know, he opens his mouth.

“Hey, Heeseung-hyung. Have you talked to Beomgyu-hyung lately?”

Heeseung freezes. His mouse hovers over the queue button, Jungwon having caught him in
the rare, quiet lull between matches. “Why do you ask?” he replies nonchalantly, slipping off
his headphones but not turning around. If he does, Jungwon will see right through him, the
way he always does.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” says Jungwon. “I just remembered that I saw him and Yeonjun-hyung near
the studios today and the vibes were weird.”

“The vibes?”

Jungwon huffs, sounding a little miffed. “At least look at me when you talk to me, hyung.”

Heeseung turns around almost instantly. Jungwon makes a pleased little sound at how easy he
was, and continues his story. “Yeah, the vibes. It was like, I don’t know… Kind of like how
Sunoo-hyung and Sunghoon-hyung are when they’re trying to hide that they just made out in
a storage closet but we all know because we’re not stupid.”

“Gross,” Heeseung instinctively replies. Then, “Wait. Are you saying you saw Beomgyu and
Yeonjun-hyung making out? You’re not usually much of a gossip, Jungwon-ah.”

“Well no, obviously! I would’ve led with that otherwise. But maybe they were?” Jungwon
backtracks, shrinking further into Heeseung’s pillows. He looks so small and cozy, it almost
distracts him from the conversation. “Ever since Sunoo-hyung and Sunghoon-hyung got
together, I’ve been wondering who else is dating. Or at least fooling around. They can’t be
the only ones, right?”

“Statistically speaking, no. Do you want me to ask Beomgyu who he’s fooled around with
lately? Would that satiate your curiosity?” Heeseung smirks just a little, because it’s fun to
watch Jungwon flush bright red.

“I–no! God, hyung, don’t do that!” Jungwon exclaims, waving his hands around as if to shoo
away the very thought. “Forget it. If you don’t know, then they probably aren’t together and I
was just imagining things. Beomgyu-hyung tells you everything, right?”

Something lodges itself in Heeseung’s throat. It tastes like regret. “Right, of course he does.”

He immediately picks up his phone.

choi beomgyu (txt)

hey
jungwon saw you and yeonjun-hyung today

whatever jungwon thought he saw i can explain

unless he saw the hickies i can’t explain those
i mean

well
at least jungwon’s not a liar?
congrats

The regret multiplies tenfold, choking him. Heeseung locks his phone and places it face down
on his desk, trying to maintain a blank face.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Jungwon asks, concern etched into the furrow of his brow. “Your
face is doing something weird right now.”

Clearly, Heeseung was unsuccessful. “It’s called emoting, Jungwon-ah.”

“You never do that in front of me.” Jungwon says it so matter-of-factly that Heeseung almost
laughs. No complaint, no disdain, just observation.

“Well, things change.” Heeseung shrugs.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

“Then I guess some things don’t change,” Jungwon replies lightly. “Do you want me to
leave?”
“No, it’s–it’s fine. You can stay,” Heeseung says quickly, and then he suddenly feels too
desperate. “Unless you want to go hang out with Sunghoon and Sunoo, then by all means–”

“No, I think I’m good here,” says Jungwon with a grimace. “I’ve accidentally walked in on
them kissing far too many times this week alone.”

Heeseung chuckles. “Thought so. Nothing happened anyway, so don’t worry about it. Just got
a weird text, that's all.”

“Okay, hyung,” replies Jungwon easily. They both know he’s lying; it’s as clear as day on his
face. But still, Jungwon’s nonchalance is a kindness and a mercy. “Do you want to sit and
scroll through Weverse with me?”

Jungwon pats the spot next to him, inviting, and it’s almost funny seeing him act like
Heeseung’s bed is his own. Then Heeseung sits with the thought for a beat too long, and it
stops being funny and starts being something else he definitely does not have the emotional
bandwidth for tonight. Or ever, maybe.

“I–” Heeseung’s eyes flick back to his screen for a moment. He hears Jungwon grumble
quietly, and he bites down a smile. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

“Really?”

Heeseung is already making himself comfortable next to Jungwon when he asks. “You
offered, right? And it’s my bed.”

Jungwon can’t really argue with that, so he simply shrugs and continues scrolling on his
phone quietly, giggling over silly Weverse posts and showing them to Heeseung periodically.
He talks aloud while typing his responses, mostly to himself, and Heeseung finds it oddly
endearing. At some point, he even complains about Heeseung’s room being too cold and
snatches up one of the hoodies lying around Heeseung’s bed, nearly drowning in it from how
oversized it is.

With Jungwon looking so cozy and warm, it’s almost like watching one of his late night lives,
of which Heeseung can now see the appeal. Most things about Jungwon are like that–
unexpectedly cute, catching him by surprise. He tries not to dwell on it.

The night passes like that, quiet and unassuming, until Jungwon accidentally falls asleep in
his bed. If it were anyone else he’d have kicked them out before it would even get to this
point, or have no qualms waking them up with force. As it happens, it’s Jungwon, who brings
out in Heeseung a gentleness that has him charging Jungwon’s phone on his nightstand and
giving his blankets to him.

Any one of them would do it for Jungwon, though. That’s just how things are. It’s nothing.

(He sleeps on the couch, and it goes unaddressed the next morning.)

•••

Here’s the thing: Heeseung has rules.

They exist as a way of maintaining his own behaviours. They didn’t always, but with time
comes self-discipline and sacrifice. Sometimes he looks back on old content and marvels at
his younger self–how innocent and naive, how far removed he is from that reality now. But
change is inevitable, and that is simply the price he pays to have this career and this life; and
to keep it, too.

And so the first (and most relevant, he supposes) rule is this: don’t want things you know you
can’t have.

This isn’t about ambition, so much as it is desire. Heeseung is familiar with ambition–he
welcomes it, even. He’s driven and competitive at heart. He wants to be the best, and he
knows he can get there one day, so long as he keeps pushing himself to the absolute limit.

Desire, however, is a different beast entirely.

It’s dangerous. He reminds himself of that in the wake of Beomgyu’s implicit confirmation
that he and Yeonjun were dating–or, in Jungwon’s words, fooling around. This should not be
shocking nor terrible news to anyone who’s ever been in a room with them longer than two
minutes, but he’s not exactly an objective party in all this.

Heeseung thinks he might’ve been halfway in love with Beomgyu since the moment they
met. Obviously, it didn’t pan out, and the only thing to come out of that is Heeseung’s first
rule. A lesson learnt.

Back then, falling for Choi Beomgyu had been easy. They were both young trainees,
desperately looking for something comfortable and familiar to cling to. They were the same
age, and liked all the same things; singing, dancing, guitars and gaming. Those were the only
things that mattered to Heeseung, at the time, until Beomgyu came along.

Falling was easy. Staying was the hard part–the impossible part.

There were too many complicated factors involved with liking someone you were once slated
to debut with, but ultimately failed to. Too many of Heeseung’s own insecurities and worries
would get in the way if they remained any closer. The way he saw it, keeping an appropriate
distance was the best way to maintain the relationship at all.

Most of Heeseung’s relationships seem to work better with a little distance, anyway.

(At least, that’s what he tells himself.)

As if the universe is laughing in his face, Heeseung runs into Beomgyu near the dance
studios. He hears him, before he sees him. “Hey, Heeseung!”

Hearing his voice feels like a shock to the system. The last time Heeseung contacted
Beomgyu was their abandoned text conversation about him and Yeonjun from a couple
weeks back. The last time he’d even seen Beomgyu was earlier than that, around their
comeback period back in January.

But that’s just how things are. Appropriate, professional. Always at arm's length.
“Hey,” Heeseung replies, slowing down so Beomgyu can catch up to him. “What’s up?”

Beomgyu grins easily, without a second thought. “Just taking a break from dance practice and
I saw you walk by. We haven’t talked in a while!”

“Well, you know how things are,” Heeseung shrugs.

Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Of course. Always busy.”

“Says the guy going on tour soon, no?”

“Fair enough,” acquiesces Beomgyu. “Still. You make time anyway, right?”

The nature of this job is that you’re always busy. Every idol understands that–or learns, very
quickly and painfully. They both know it. The only difference between Heeseung and
Beomgyu, he supposes, is that Beomgyu refuses to lose himself to it.

“Anyway, we should catch up before I leave,” Beomgyu continues, trying to fill Heeseung’s
silence. “I can’t tonight, since I’ve got plans with Yeonjun-hyung, but I’ll text you?”

Heeseung slows down and stops in his tracks, almost subconsciously. He never did get a real
answer out of Beomgyu, when they texted. “Right. It’s real, then? Between you two.”

Beomgyu blushes a subtle pink. Heeseung only notices because it’s impossible for him not to.
“I mean–”

“You know what, nevermind. I don’t want to know the details,” interrupts Heeseung,
cowering from the truth. “I should get going, though.”

Beomgyu laughs, sounding relieved, so maybe it’s fine anyway. “Of course, me too. Practice
is starting again soon,” he tilts his head towards the practice room door. Through the slim
window, Heeseung spots a soccer ball arc cleanly through the air. He almost laughs at the
familiarity of it, though Ni-ki and Jake are in their baseball phase these days.

Beomgyu is already walking away, when he suddenly says, “We’re good though, right?”

Heeseung smiles and it feels all wrong. He hopes Beomgyu’s too far away to notice.

“Of course. See you around, Beomgyu.”

•••

Heeseung’s second rule is this: never make your emotions other people’s problem.

This is basically a given, since he’s the oldest amongst the members. He’s the default put-
together one; the one who always gives advice; the one who always knows what to do or how
to deescalate a situation. The one who provides steady, unwavering support; who can have
difficult conversations about anything but himself.
It wasn’t always like this. He’s the youngest of his family, after all, and there were points in
his trainee life he had hyungs to seek solace in. But things change, people leave, and
Heeseung learns how to be a pillar of support with no one of his own to lean on.

And so, when he leaves today’s recording session the most frustrated he’s ever been,
Heeseung doesn’t tell anyone. Everybody has off days, and unfortunately today is just his.
The only course of action is to breathe in, put on a brave face and get through the rest of the
day; don’t make obvious mistakes at dance practice, don’t bring the mood down at lunch,
don’t look annoyed during meetings, don’t stumble over his words during filming.

Don’t waver, when Jungwon puts an arm over his shoulder during a quiet moment and sends
him a concerned glance.

Heeseung is an expert at maintaining the facade. He doesn’t think he’s a very good actor in a
general sense, but he’s good at managing his expressions, at least. It’s not until he’s alone in
one of the studios, late at night when their schedules are finally done and most of the
members have gone back to the dorms, that he can finally breathe out.

He needs this, sometimes; the alone time. The space to breathe, to think. The space to throw
his head in his hands and groan, frustrated and exhausted. The space to work himself to the
bone because that’s the only way he knows how.

Heeseung loses track of time, poring over their supposed title track. It’s always easy to forget
himself in the process. He likes that music swallows him whole, that it overwhelms his
thoughts to the point where he can’t think of anything else. It fills the spaces in his head that
would otherwise be occupied by all his worries; wondering if he’s doing well, if he could be
doing more, jealousy and envy over things he swore he’d finally let go of.

Without work, without music, all he’s left with is himself. And Heeseung doesn’t know if
that’s enough.

He doesn’t notice how long it’s been until there’s a sharp knock on the studio door. He lifts
his head up at the sound, catching a glimpse of the wall clock that reads 11:45 PM in bright
LED lights.

Their managers are usually understanding about them wanting to practice or work on things
outside their schedule, but there’s always been a limit for health’s sake. More often than not,
Heeseung is the one always teetering on the edge of that line, until someone pulls him back.

He doesn’t answer the door straight away, and his phone pings twice in quick succession.

jungwon
i know you’re there hyung
i'm coming in

“Thought I’d find you here,” says Jungwon, the door slowly falling shut behind him. The
light streaming in from the hallway is almost blinding, and Heeseung squints against it. Or
maybe it’s the sight of Jungwon, concerned and caring, that he can’t bear to look at. “It’s
pretty late, isn’t it?”
Heeseung hums noncommittally. “It is.”

Jungwon bites his lip, clearly taking in the pitiful sight of him. Deep bags under his eyes,
messy hair, an even messier pile of lyric sheets strewn about the table with his indecipherable
scrawl on them. Deliriously, Heeseung wonders if Jungwon can even see his oncoming
migraine.

Heeseung doesn’t ever find himself scared of Jungwon, except in moments like this, where it
feels like he can see right through him.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, hyung,” Jungwon prefaces, which is always what he says
before he does exactly that: “but you can’t just hide in the studio and ignore me–us, all
night.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Jungwon-ah,” says Heeseung quietly. “We’re all pretty bad at
answering texts, aren’t we?”

“I know. I called you earlier, too.”

Heeseung taps his phone, swiping through a mess of ignored notifications before he sees 3
missed calls from Jungwon. 6:00 PM, 9:30 PM, 11:20 PM. He winces.

“You know I’ll always give you space if you need it, but can’t you at least tell me before you
disappear? So I know you’re okay?” Jungwon continues, trying to keep his tone level.

He’s not mean about it–he’s never mean about anything–but he’s always firm and resolute.
That’s almost worse, somehow. Heeseung wishes Jungwon were a little ruder, a little angrier.
At least then, Heeseung might feel more justified in his own feelings. But as it stands, he’s
the exhausted, unreasonable one who doesn’t know how to accept Jungwon’s concern like a
normal person.

“That would defeat the purpose of disappearing, I think.” Heeseung replies.

That’s clearly not what Jungwon wants to hear. He frowns, and his carefully maintained
neutrality cracks a little. “I wish you didn’t feel like you had to disappear to deal with a
problem, hyung,” Jungwon says quietly. “I’m here, you know?”

Heeseung can barely even look at him standing there, so patient and open with him. So
unabashed in his desire to be by his side, to be someone Heeseung can lean on. “I know you
are, Jungwon-ah. Really. I just–I don’t know–”

I don’t know how to ask for help.

Jungwon shrugs, and finally sits down on the empty chair next to him. “I’ll wait until you do,
then.”

Heeseung would laugh, if he wasn’t so tired. If he didn’t feel so vulnerable, his bleeding heart
laid bare for Jungwon’s perusal. “You work longer hours than me sometimes, you know,”
Heeseung points out weakly. He feels himself quickly unraveling before Jungwon, and he
scrambles to pick up the threads before it all falls apart. “It’s not that serious.”
“Well, yeah, but I always tell someone first. And I don’t do it to punish myself.”

“And what am I punishing myself for, exactly?”

“I don’t know, hyung. You haven’t done anything wrong,” Jungwon’s gaze flicks over to the
computer, where Heeseung played their recordings on loop for hours to pick apart everything
that didn’t sound quite right. “You don’t have to solve every problem alone. Especially ones
that weren't your fault.”

“I–that’s not what this is.” Heeseung replies. It sounds unconvincing, even to him.

Jungwon’s sharp, knowing gaze pins him down. But his voice is still unbearably kind, and
maybe that’s worse. “Isn’t it? You always want to have everything all figured out, before you
talk to any of us about it.”

“Not always.”

“Oh, you’re good at lying,” Jungwon says. Almost immediately, his eyes grow comically
wide. “Sorry, hyung. That was rude of me.”

Impossibly, that makes Heeseung laugh. “You already barged in, lectured me, but that’s
where you’ll draw the line?”

Jungwon seems to shrink in on himself. “I wasn’t trying to lecture you–”

“I didn’t mean–I was joking, Jungwon-ah. I know you weren’t. You were just trying to help.
I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise. I overreacted. You’re allowed to have your alone time, that’s not my
business,” Jungwon replies. He sounds almost disappointed–in himself, in Heeseung, maybe–
and Heeseung feels like the worst person in the world. He never wants to disappoint any of
them, but especially not Jungwon.

“Anyway, just–just let me know when you’re ready to go,” continues Jungwon, starting to
create some distance between them again. “I can just wait with Yuki-hyung in the car, if you
want.”

Jungwon hovers awkwardly, not moving to leave yet. He always keeps his promises, after all,
and he did say he would sit here indefinitely–though, he’d be willing to go if Heeseung
asked. But not far. He’s always been willing to wait, too.

“I’m not going to kick you out, Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung says quietly, almost resigned to the
fact that he will always want Jungwon around, even if it pains him to feel so undone before
another person. “I’d never–I don’t think I could ever ask you to leave. I just don’t really want
to talk about what’s actually bothering me right now.”

“So it’s not just the song, then?” asks Jungwon. He doesn’t mention the other half of his
statement, to Heeseung’s relief.
But still, Jungwon is too observant for his own good. And for Heeseung’s. “No, it’s not. But
that’s part of it, too.”

“We’ll talk to the producers about it, then.” Jungwon says with finality, his eyes scanning
over Heeseung’s notes again. “We’ll figure it out, okay? The other thing… Whenever you’re
ready, we can figure that out, too. I’ll be here, if you want me to be.”

His patience is a balm over Heeseung’s bruised ego, quiet and reassuring. It’s a comfort he
finds difficult to accept, but he’s even worse at rejecting Jungwon.

“Thanks,” Heeseung replies quietly. It’s not much, but it’s all he has for now. “I’ll–I can
finish this, then we can go?”

“Sure, hyung. Whatever you want,” Jungwon nods, pulling out his phone and making himself
comfortable, like he knows Heeseung could be here hours more. “I’m setting a timer,
though.”

Heeseung laughs.

•••

The thing is, Heeseung has always found Jungwon’s presence reassuring.

Even when they were trainees in that god awful show, he’d almost never been away from
Jungwon. While things always fluctuated, he always looked at Jungwon and saw someone
capable, regardless of age or experience. It didn’t matter that Heeseung was older, or that
he’d trained longer; Jungwon could, and was determined to, meet him where he was at.
Heeseung had no doubt that Jungwon would make it, and when they debuted, everyone
unanimously agreed that if not him, then Jungwon could lead them.

It was impressive as it was intimidating, that someone so young could catch up to him so
quickly, and was so willing to bear the weight of leadership that Heeseung couldn’t. And he
wouldn’t, no matter what–he knew how heavy it was and what carrying it had done to him.

Jungwon was always the better choice, for all their sakes. If he learned one thing through
their trainee experience, it was that a person needs to want leadership, so much as they are
awarded it. It’s not that he would ever leave Jungwon to his own devices, or not do his part–
as seen, he does it too much–but there is a steadiness in Jungwon that Heeseung respects.
That he needs, really, in times where he feels the ground is splintering beneath him and he
can’t find his footing.

Like at practice, today.

One of the most comforting and familiar sights to Heeseung has always been Jungwon,
through the studio mirror.

They’ve always gravitated towards the middle of the room together, or maybe everyone
simply orbits around Jungwon and Heeseung is no exception. It’s an inevitability. Tradition,
at this point; Heeseung will mindlessly warm up with random moves, and Jungwon will
match up with him. Like it’s as natural as breathing, to connect with Heeseung. They’ll lock
eyes in the mirror, amused, and see how well they can read each other's next move. As
expected of our twinz.

Heeseung blinks, and they’re naive, baby faced trainees, doing the exact same thing. They’re
days away from their debut. They're weeks away from their first world tour. They’re months
away from their newest comeback.

And through it all, Jungwon remains at the centre, smiling and predicting Heeseung’s next
move before he even knows it himself.

When it comes time to actually practice, Jungwon’s gaze sharpens instantly. Heeseung finds
that sight comforting and familiar, too–Jungwon in work mode. Jungwon, leading. Jungwon,
laser-focused and reliable, pushing himself and the team to their limits. He’s meticulous and
strict when he needs to be, but equally as encouraging when they need a boost of motivation.

(And through it all, Jungwon remains beautiful and captivating. It terrifies him.)

“Heeseung-hyung, you good?” Jungwon says, voice sharp. The music stops. It stings, but it’s
better to be called out by him than anyone else.

Heeseung, uncharacteristically, is not. But, well, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re always a beat behind,” Jungwon replies. “Hyung.” He adds to the end, so as to not
disrupt their careful balance.

Their performance director watches them curiously, probably not used to the sight of
Heeseung being the one singled out by another member. It usually happens to the others, if at
all. Jungwon or Ni-ki, or even Heeseung himself, will point out mistakes, details, or correct
formations. If it’s not a big deal or disrupting practice, she’ll leave them to sort it out amongst
themselves first.

“I won’t be next time,” is all Heeseung says.

He somehow catches Jay’s gaze in the mirror, who gives him a half-concerned ‘do we need to
talk about this later?’ look. All because he’s lagging a little, this one time. Jay is just being
dramatic, probably. Nevermind the fact that this has never happened before, and Heeseung
would sooner drop dead than fall behind.

“Sure, hyung. As long as you know.” Jungwon responds with finality, eyes pinned to him.

Heeseung looks at him, really looks at him, and it's like the rest of the room falls away. All
that remains is Jungwon–hair pulled away from his face with a cap on backwards, oversized
shirt with a too-wide neckline that flashes glimpses of his collarbones, a sheen of sweat on
his forehead, his eyes sharp and feline and knowing.

Heeseung swallows thickly, and before he can look away, Jungwon raises an eyebrow at him.

Even when their performance director gets the practice going again, instructing them to run
through it one more time from the top, Heeseung can’t get Jungwon off his mind. It’s
horrible, really, that one of his biggest distractions just so happens to be front and centre.
Always within sight, never within reach.

That would be his third rule, probably: look, don’t touch. Keep your distance.

Heeseung tries his best, but Jungwon approaches him after practice anyway.

“Hey, got a minute?” he asks, sneaking up behind Heeseung as he’s drinking from his water
bottle.

Startled, Heeseung turns around and quickly swallows around a mouthful of water. “I–yeah,
sure. Of course. Is something wrong?” He’s hyper aware of everything right now, from the
way his sweaty shirt clings to his back, to the errant drop of water trailing down the corner of
his mouth.

“I wanted to ask you that, hyung,” Jungwon replies, his eyes following Heeseung’s every
move. He feels seen, pinned down by the weight of Jungwon’s gaze. “Though, maybe not
here?”

He takes quick stock of the room; this is their final schedule of the day, so the other members
are slowly splitting off to do their own things for the night. Sunghoon and Sunoo have left
first, Ni-ki is still discussing something with their performance director, while Jake and Jay
seem to be arguing over what to have for dinner.

In true Heeseung fashion, he’d already been planning to stay behind before Jungwon came up
to him. He almost says as such, but Jungwon beats him to it. “And before you say no, you
can keep practicing another time. Take a walk with me?”

•••

They end up at Han River.

It’s not too far from the company or their dorms, and nightly strolls have always been one of
Jungwon’s favourite pastimes. Heeseung knows that much, at least, even though they’ve
never been on one together before. It’s nice, Heeseung thinks; cold, but he doesn’t mind it so
much, because it means not many people are out. Just them, the city lights, and the quiet,
constant hum of life around them.

“I see why you like to go on walks so much,” Heeseung says to Jungwon. For some reason,
he shines under the warm glow of the streetlights, cheeks pink with the cold and eyes even
brighter in the dim light. “It’s pretty. The scenery, I mean. Peaceful.”

“Yeah it’s–it's just nice to get away from all the noise, sometimes. Thanks for coming with
me, hyung,” Jungwon replies, voice slightly muffled behind his thick, puffy scarf. He looks a
little ridiculous like this; buried underneath all his layers, face partially hidden underneath the
bright blue cap he wore at practice. It’s endearing too, in that typical Jungwon way.

Heeseung shrugs, pulling his hoodie up to shield himself from the wind and prying eyes.
“Nothing to thank me for. You wanted to talk, right?”
“I did, yeah,” Jungwon hums in response. “I just… wanted to see how you were going. You
were distracted at practice.”

“You brought me all the way here to ask me, how are you?”

“Is that a crime?”

Heeseung huffs out an incredulous laugh. “No, it’s just–unlike you.”

“It’s unlike me to care about you?” asks Jungwon, sounding almost offended at the thought.
It’s cute.

“Unlike you to be so straightforward about it,” Heeseung amends.

“I’ve always been straightforward, hyung. It’s not my fault you don’t notice because you
always keep me at arm's length.” Jungwon says, always simple in his heaviest truths.

Heeseung stops in his tracks. “I–”

“You just feel far away, lately,” Jungwon interrupts, the words rushing out, as if he’d been
holding them back for a little too long. “Ever since I asked you about Beomgyu-hyung and
Yeonjun-hyung.”

When Jungwon turns to look at him, Heeseung is still rooted in place, a few paces behind.
Jungwon gives it a moment, as if waiting to see what Heeseung will do–run away, or catch up
to him.

He does neither, so Jungwon walks towards him first.

“Hyung,” Jungwon says quietly, by his side yet again. “Are you… I mean, do you like him?
Either of them? Is that what this is?”

Heeseung laughs around the lump in his throat. “Careful, Jungwon-ah. You’re starting to
sound a little jealous.”

“One day, you’ll answer me without trying to deflect first,” Jungwon grumbles. “Did you
guys fight, then? I’m sorry if I brought something up that I shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t apologise. Please. We didn’t fight, and even if we had, how could you have known?”
Heeseung sighs heavily. He resigns himself to the fact that he should talk about this with
someone, sooner or later, for his own good. Clearly, carrying it all by himself has not done
him any favours.

“Okay, if it’s not that, then what is it?” Jungwon asks, no judgment in his voice. Only earnest
curiosity. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I just… I want to understand you.”

Heeseung is quiet for a moment, trying to piece together his thoughts. “Beomgyu never told
me about them. We’re not as close these days as you think we are. I might’ve never known if
you didn’t ask, which is fine, he doesn’t owe me anything. And it’s not really surprising
anyway, I guess I’m just…” Heeseung trails off, shaking his head.
“Just?”

“I don’t know. Curious? Envious, maybe. Not of Beomgyu or Yeonjun-hyung specifically–”

“Really?” Jungwon interjects.

“Anymore,” Heeseung amends, and he leaves it at that. Jungwon can piece together the rest if
he wants to. “It’s not like that anymore. But I want to understand them, too. I guess I was
scared that we were becoming even more distant, in this too.”

In love, and relationships, and everything Heeseung thought they were all just supposed to
live without. All the things he didn’t let himself want. As unreasonable as it is, he feels left
behind again, somehow; exactly where he was years ago. Younger, lonelier, being so close to
them, yet watching them leave him anyway. All his memories of being a trainee are tinted
with that kind of abandonment, and it almost haunts him. People either left because they
couldn’t handle it, or they weren’t good enough, or they were too good, and they were
running ahead without Heeseung. In every scenario, he was left alone, wondering where he
went wrong or what cue he missed.

Until ENHYPEN. Until Jungwon.

Jungwon hums, contemplative. He burrows his face deeper into his scarf, then asks, “Have
you ever wanted something as much as, or even more than, being an idol? Or a musician.”

“No.” Heeseung says immediately. He doesn’t even let himself think about it.

“Then, there you go,” Jungwon shrugs, as if that explains everything. “That’s all there is to it,
I think. They’ve just found other things to want. I understand being envious, but no one’s
stopping you from trying to do the same–except you, I guess.”

Heeseung can’t fault his conclusion, but it still leaves him feeling off balance.

If it’s simply a matter of wanting, Heeseung understands that, in a way. He’s familiar with the
ache of it, the way his chest squeezes painfully, the way it makes him lose sight of himself.
He’s familiar with envy; the claws of it, the way it chokes him until it becomes too painful to
say, I’m happy for you, Beomgyu-yah. He’s familiar with trying; the endlessness of it, the
ache in his muscles after dancing the entire day, the calluses on his fingertips from playing
guitar, the strain in his hands from repeating the same piano melody over and over, the
dryness of his throat after being holed up in the studio for hours trying to get it just right.

Heeseung understands all those things. The loneliness of it all, the solitude that comes with
wanting what you can’t have; coveting what isn’t yours; trying, always. But it’s more than
that. It’s the matter of staying, despite it all. The kind of bravery it takes to want someone
badly enough to keep them close, against your better judgment.

He looks at Jungwon–pretty, patient, understanding Jungwon, who hates to be kept at arm’s

length–and his heart twists. He gets it, then, and the revelation terrifies him.
“Have you?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence. “Have you wanted anything more than
this?”

“Of course,” replies Jungwon. The way he says it makes it feel more of a fact, and less of a
damning confession. “Nothing makes me happier than working right now, but sometimes… I
don’t know. Sometimes it might be nice to be happy in other ways, too. So, yes and no.”

“That’s vague,” Heeseung says. Jungwon simply raises an eyebrow at him, and he backtracks
immediately. “Right. Because I’m always the pinnacle of honesty and vulnerability. Sorry.”

Jungwon smiles at him. “I didn’t say anything, hyung.”

“You didn’t have to,” replies Heeseung. Jungwon is still smiling. He feels undone by it. “You
don’t need to explain yourself to me, if you don’t want to. That’s what I meant.”

“Okay. I won’t then,” Jungwon looks amused, or maybe he’s endeared. “But it’s not that I
don’t want to. I’m just–working up the courage to ask for what I want. When I get there, I’ll
let you know.”

Heeseung isn’t an idiot. But he’s also not very brave right now, either, so all he can do is offer
Jungwon equally vague, well meaning reassurances. “Sure, Jungwon-ah. I’ll be here, if you
want.”

“I hope so,” replies Jungwon, and in this, too, he’s far braver than Heeseung.

They keep walking a little while longer after that, delaying their inevitable return back to
their full, loud dorm, though the conversation turns much lighter. Jungwon mostly talks about
a new drama that caught his eye recently–he’s usually not into them, he’s taken a liking to
this one. Heeseung has never heard of it, has no vested interest in it, really, but he listens
attentively all the same.

He likes listening to Jungwon talk, more than anything else. He likes the way Jungwon’s eyes
light up when he recounts something more exciting, the deep set of his dimple when he
laughs at some horrible joke Heeseung made, the permanent flush on his cheeks from the
cold, pink and pretty and sweet. These days, Heeseung is realising he likes a lot of things
about Jungwon, apparently.

“I think you’d like the OST, it’s really–why are you looking at me like that? Is there
something on my face?” Jungwon asks suddenly, stopping in his tracks.

Heeseung nearly trips over his own feet. “I–no, nothing. You just… look cold.” He’s not
lying, but that’s certainly not the only reason he was caught staring so intensely.

“Oh, okay,” replies Jungwon agreeably. He seems to take stock of himself, looking down at
his scarf and thick, seasonally appropriate jacket. He’s quite clearly dressed warmer than
Heeseung, who’s only got a hoodie and beanie to his name. “Well, I didn’t bring any gloves,
so I guess my hands are a little–”
Before Heeseung can even register what his body is doing, he takes Jungwon’s hand,
intertwining their fingers and tucking them smoothly into his hoodie pocket. Must be all the
drama talk, or something. Heeseung tugs them forward a little, until they’re walking again
and Jungwon is blinking up at him, speechless.

Heeseung bites back a smile. “What were you saying before? About the OST?”

“Oh, right,” Jungwon mumbles, shaking his head, as if to come back to himself. He perks up
suddenly, going on a tangent about the song’s vocal style and how you’d sound really good
on a song like this, hyung–I mean, not that you ever sound bad, but–

As Jungwon talks, he seems to drift closer to Heeseung’s side, whether it be because of the
cold or their interlocked hands, still snug in Heeseung’s pocket. Whatever the case, Heeseung
can’t bring himself to pull away, reveling in the closeness for just this one night. For one
indulgent second, Heeseung wishes that the moment would last forever. That he could be
suspended in time, holding hands with Jungwon on a stroll along Han River, worrying about
nothing except songs and dramas and whatever Jungwon would say next.

It’s such a small thing to want, yet somehow so unattainable, Heeseung almost laughs at his
own naivete. Nothing about his life is that easy, or that normal. That’s what he signed up for
and he’s always known it, resigned to the chaos and noise and busyness of it all. He even
likes it that way, sometimes.

But still, maybe there are things Heeseung could want just as much as being an idol–sweet,
simple, quiet things, that seem to scare him even more.

•••

Of all the people who would wait around for Heeseung and Jungwon to get home, he
should’ve expected it would be Jay.

“Where’d you guys go after practice? It was just Jake, Ni-ki and I at dinner.” Jay asks,
following Heeseung to his room in that endearingly unashamed, tactless way of his.

Jungwon had gone off to bed first, bidding Heeseung a gentle goodnight and bumping their
shoulders together affectionately before leaving. Jay had materialised out of thin air, then,
emerging from the kitchen with suspicious, watchful eyes.

“Oh, Sunghoon and Sunoo weren’t here?” Heeseung deflects, trying to shake Jay off to no
avail.

Jay makes a face at him and bulldozes his way into Heeseung’s room. “Don’t play dumb. You
know Thursday is date night.”

“Ah, right. Did they have a good time?”

“Really, hyung?”

Heeseung laughs a little, flopping onto his bed while Jay makes himself right at home in
Heeseung’s gaming chair. He won’t stop glaring, like he’s Jungwon’s father and Heeseung is
some delinquent being interrogated after a night out. “Relax, Jongseong-ah. We just went on
a walk. I should make something to eat now that we’re back, actually. Jjapaguri?”

“You went on a walk with Jungwon?” Jay repeats, ignoring the rest of his response. “You
never do that.”

“Well, that’s what happened. He wanted to check in, I guess,” Heeseung shrugs, aiming for
nonchalant and probably missing the mark. He doesn’t mention anything about deep,
emotional revelations or hand holding, obviously. “What, worried that you’re not his
favourite hyung anymore? I’m sure he’ll go on a walk with you too, one day.”

“I’ll always be his favourite, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jay scoffs, only half joking.
They’re all aware of Jay and Jungwon’s soft spots for each other. If Heeseung dwells on it for
too long it starts to bother him, so he doesn’t. Jealousy is not a good look on him. “But
Jungwon’s been worried about you lately. You’re all he ever talks about.”

Heeseung closes his eyes to avoid Jay’s piercing gaze. “Just what every idol wants to hear–
their leader is worried for them.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”

“I don’t know, actually.”

Jay sighs heavily. “You’re being difficult on purpose. Fine. We’re both a little too sober for
this conversation, anyway, but all I’m saying is… there’s something there, I think.”

Jay talks in circles sometimes, but Heeseung has always known how to follow, even against
his better judgement. This feels like one of those times now, where he’s letting Jay’s
overthinking and romanticism steer his own thoughts in a direction he can’t have them going.

“Whatever’s happening between the two of you…” Jay continues cautiously. “I hope you’ll
be careful with him, that’s all. And with yourself, too. Jungwon isn’t the only one who
worries about you.”

Hope is a funny, dangerous little thing. It bubbles up in Heeseung’s chest now, terrifying and
confusing, and he hurriedly tries to stamp it out before it begins to take real shape. A fool’s
errand.

“Jongseong-ah, don’t. I’m fine.” Heeseung replies, voice low and warning.

Jay rolls his eyes, getting up from his chair. Clearly, he’s said all he needed to say. “Don’t
Jongseong-ah me, hyung. I’m just telling you what I’m seeing. Maybe if you opened your
eyes and looked, you’d see it too.”

•••

The thing is, Heeseung has always been looking.

It’s all he ever does. He seems to have this in-built awareness of Jungwon since the moment
they met, and Jungwon was this small, round, bright-eyed little thing. He’d been impossibly
adorable back then, with soft cheeks that bunched up cutely when he laughed, and blushed a
vibrant, telling red whenever someone complimented his dancing or singing. Jungwon would
sooner accept constructive criticism than compliments–he was much like Heeseung in that
way–but it was easy to see that he still wanted them anyway. Especially at that age, training
in the circumstances they did, all any of them really wanted to hear was something good.

Though Jungwon is no longer that young teenager, many of those characteristics remain,
along with that part of Heeseung that just can’t look away from him for whatever reason.

Were he more honest with himself, Heeseung might call it wanting. But he’s not, so he
doesn’t.

“Hello, earth to Heeseung-hyung,” Jake says, waving a hand in front of his face. “Anyone in
there?”

Heeseung blinks rapidly, the image of Jungwon speaking seriously with one of their
producers suddenly broken up by Jake’s hand. “I–huh? What? I’m here.”

Jake snorts, leaning further into the couch the two of them are lounging on in the studio.
They were supposed to be going over Heeseung’s notes on Jake’s parts for their title track, so
they could redo what needed adjusting after Jungwon was done with recording one of the b-
sides. Clearly, Heeseung had gotten a little distracted along the way.

“You sure you’re here? Because it looks like you’re over there,” Jake gestures to Jungwon,
still in deep conversation. The serious look on his face breaks for a moment, giving way to a
bashful smile, his cheeks growing warmer by the second. That vibrant, telling red. The
producer must’ve complimented him on his take.

“You’re doing it again.” Jake deadpans.

Heeseung shakes his head and turns bodily away from Jungwon, only to come face-to-face
with Jake’s amused expression. “Sorry, Jaeyun-ah. What were you saying?”

Jake’s eyes flick to Jungwon, then back to Heeseung. “What’s going on with you lately?”

Heeseung blinks, taken aback. “I’m sure that’s not what we were talking about before.”

“Yeah, well, it is now. So spill.”

“Well… not much?” Heeseung shrugs. “I mean, outside of what we’re all going through with
the comeback?”

Jake groans, throwing his head back dramatically on the couch cushions. “Jay said you might
be like this. Are you actually oblivious or just avoiding it?”

“You asked me a very general question,” Heeseung scoffs, almost incredulous and very
confused. “And, wait a minute, Jay said? Do you guys gossip about me?”

Jake straightens up, indignant. “We would never! We just–we discuss, and sometimes you
come up, because we care about you! And we’re concerned that, you know, you’re like…
repressed… and stuff…” Jake’s voice grows quieter, trailing off at the end as he realises how
ridiculous he sounds.

Heeseung sighs heavily. “You two… you need to be separated. For my sake.” Then, he pats
Jake’s knee, reassuring. “Look, I appreciate you looking out for me in your own weird ways,
really, but I promise I’m fine. And whatever you think is happening with Jungwon and I, it’s
not.”

“But I never mentioned Jungwon–”

“What about me?” Jungwon asks, materialising out of thin air. He plops down onto the couch
next to Heeseung, practically draped over his shoulder to stare at Jake with those big, round,
perceptive eyes of his. “What are you guys talking about?”

Jake jumps in his seat, hand on his rapidly beating heart. “Holy shit, you scared me,” he
breathes out dramatically, “I–we were just–”

“Just wondering when you were finishing up,” Heeseung interrupts smoothly. Jake can’t lie
to save his life. “Looks like you’re all done now, though.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them suspiciously. “Okay… Well, I
am done, and PD-nim actually wanted to talk to Jake-hyung before you guys started.”

“Right, of course, thanks Jungwon-ah!” Jake shoots up from his seat, nodding like a maniac,
gesturing to where their producer is waiting for him. “I’m just gonna go now, yeah, bye!”

Heeseung watches him run off with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, as one would a
troublesome little puppy. The look in Jungwon’s eyes is much the same. “Jake-hyung is so
weird sometimes,” he mumbles under his breath, before turning to Heeseung. “Anyway, how
are you, hyung?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that lately,” Heeseung groans. He softens as soon as he notices
Jungwon’s pout. “And I always appreciate the concern.”

Jungwon rolls his eyes, bumping their shoulders together lightly. “I just meant, are you
nervous? It’s your first time really directing any of us, right?”

Heeseung hums, glancing over to where Jake is warming up in the recording booth. “I think
I’ll be fine, I’m just relieved they’re actually letting me do this. Jaeyun-ah is a good singer
and he listens well, so I don’t think there’s anything I need to worry about today.”

“Would you worry if it was me?” Jungwon asks quickly. He looks like he regrets it as soon as
he’s said it, but Jungwon’s never been the type to take back his words.

“Why? Do you want me to tell you you’re a good singer and you listen well, too?” Heeseung
smirks. Jungwon scoffs, but there’s a light dusting of shy pink across his cheeks and he can’t
seem to meet Heeseung’s gaze. “You’re always great, Jungwon-ah. I never have to worry,
with you.”
“You’re just saying that.” Jungwon is still blushing something pretty, looking down at his lap
shyly. Looking at him, Heeseung’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, a few
sizes too big, filled with an affection that goes far beyond what he feels for anyone else.

“You know I don’t lie about these things,” Heeseung squeezes Jungwon’s shoulder lightly,
and the touch burns. “Anyway, I shouldn’t keep them waiting too long.”

“Right, of course not,” Jungwon replies, shaking himself out of it. “I should get going, too. I
promised Sunoo-hyung I’d have lunch with him after I was done.”

Heeseung nods, dragging himself off the couch. “Alright. See you later, then?”

Jungwon looks up at him, cheeks still that soft pink, eyes still bright and round. He’s still so
adorable, and pretty, too. It’s almost unbearable. “Sure, hyung. I’ll see you at practice.”

•••

Heeseung doesn’t know what happened between lunch and their dance practice, but Sunoo
will not stop glaring at him.

It’s actually impressive that he’s able to make his annoyance known in such a crowded room,
since they’re practicing with their backup dancers today, but when there’s a will, there’s a
way–and Kim Sunoo always finds a way. Had it not been directed at him, Heeseung would be
entertained by it, but it’s not exactly fun being on the receiving end of his ire.

“Did I do something wrong?” Heeseung whispers under his breath, nudging Sunghoon softly.
“Sunoo keeps looking at me like I killed his cat, or something.”

Sunghoon snickers. “Well, in a manner of speaking, kind of–”

“What are you talking about?”

“Okay, sorry, bad joke,” Sunghoon laughs. He takes a sip of his water so it looks like they’re
actually taking a water break, as opposed to gossiping in the corner while Ni-ki and Jungwon
go over details with the backup dancers. Sunoo, Jay and Jake are employing similar stalling
tactics, except Sunoo is still glaring petulantly at him from across the room. Sunghoon
notices and laughs even harder. “Anyway, it’s fine. He’s not actually mad at you.”

“Are you sure?” Heeseung sighs. “If I upset him, let me know so I can fix it before I
accidentally make it worse and Jungwon has to get involved, or something. I don’t want to
stress him out with that.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Okay, I feel like you jumped through a few
hoops to get to Jungwon, but sure, hyung.” Then Sunghoon pats him on the shoulder, almost
consolingly. “Look, Sunoo’s just a little upset right now that you’re monopolising his
Jungwon time, that’s all. Nothing serious. I say the glaring lasts another thirty minutes, tops.”

Heeseung blinks, confused. “I don’t–we aren’t hanging out that much more than usual? And
did they not just have lunch together?”
“One guess as to who Jungwon spent, like, 90% of the time talking about.”

The blush on Heeseung’s face spreads from the apples of his cheeks all the way to the tips of
his ears. If anyone asks, he’ll blame it on dancing. “Jungwon does not talk about me that
much,” he hisses under his breath, suddenly hyper-aware of the other people in the room.
Namely the one right in the centre, currently wearing one of Heeseung’s many beanies to
keep his hair out of his face. Jungwon’s shirt slips down his collarbone as he dances,
demonstrating the smooth, sensual lines of their latest choreography.

It’s a familiar sight, and still. Want zips up Heeseung’s spine, hot and confusing.

“You’d be surprised, hyung,” Sunghoon shrugs. “And, well, you talk about him even more.”

“I don’t–”

“Just saying, this situation feels a little familiar.” Sunghoon tosses his water bottle to the floor
along with all the others piled up in the corner, evidently done with the conversation and the
water break. “Sunoo and I worked it out eventually. I hope you’ll learn from me and not
waste time that could be spent–”

Heeseung feels his guard go up at everything Sunghoon–and Jay, and Jake–are implying. His
voice sounds stilted and unfamiliar when he cuts through Sunghoon’s words; “Spent what?”

“Spent happier, hyung,” replies Sunghoon, his tone unfailingly soft and his eyes locked on
Sunoo, dripping with affection too private for Heeseung to witness and too vulnerable for
him to understand. Sunghoon shoots him a wry smile before walking back to his spot for
practice. “Don’t waste time that could be spent happier.”

•••

Heeseung waits for the next interrogation–the fourth horseman of the feelings apocalypse
after Jay, Jake and Sunghoon–but it never comes.

He expects Sunoo to say something at dinner, but Sunghoon was right to predict that his sour
mood would wear off quickly, because he’s perfectly normal when Heeseung sits across from
him at the table. He even braces himself for Ni-ki to weigh in since the rest of them already
feel some kind of way, and Ni-ki is both observant and opinionated, but he doesn’t. Instead,
he plays one round of Fifa with Heeseung and then suddenly calls it a night, with vague,
parting words; “good luck, hyung. Let me know if you’re down for a rematch tomorrow.”

Heeseung thinks it’s weird that competitive, hyperactive Ni-ki would end it on a loss, until
Jungwon knocks on his door.

Things start making a little more sense, then.

“You busy, hyung?”

“Never too busy for you, Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung replies, the words rushing out of his mouth
embarrassingly quickly at the sight of Jungwon hovering in his doorway, barefaced and
drowning in a hoodie that might actually be Heeseung’s. He flips his phone over, pretending
he wasn’t just texting his friends to see if anyone was down for League. “I mean–what’s up?
Everything okay?”

Jungwon closes the door behind him, lips quirked up into a small smile. “Everything’s fine,
hyung. I just–um. Couldn’t sleep. Yeah.”

He perches on the edge of Heeseung’s bed, words awkward and stilted. Even from his desk,
Heeseung can see the lingering dampness of Jungwon’s hair from his shower, the sheen on
his cheeks from moisturiser, the fresh drops of water around the hood. Not exactly the look of
someone trying desperately to sleep this second, but who is Heeseung to judge?

Jungwon seems to shrink into the hoodie the longer Heeseung stays quiet. He fiddles with the
sleeves, tugging on cute little sweater paws. The hoodie is definitely the same one Jungwon
borrowed–stole–from him over a month ago, when he was hanging out in Heeseung’s room
and fell asleep. Heeseung had forgotten about it, but Jungwon kept it, all this time. He
wonders if there was something since then, that he just hadn’t been able to see until recently.

“Ah, I see. Do you need my room, then?” Heeseung asks with an indulgent smile. “I mean, if
you wanted to go live, or something. Since you can’t sleep. I can hang out in the living room
for a while.”

“No!” Jungwon replies, nearly falling off the bed in his haste. Heeseung finds him painfully
endearing, which is horrible for his heart. Jungwon is a little quieter when he continues; “No,
it’s fine, hyung. I’m not going to go live tonight.”

“Okay, Jungwon-ah. What are you doing, then?” Heeseung matches his energy, his voice just
as quiet. Jungwon can’t look him in the eyes, and he’s a little bit glad for it–he’d find
something far too gentle, far too sweet, had he been able to meet Heeseung’s gaze.

“I just… wanted to hang out with you.”

Heeseung moves to sit next to him, the two of them now side by side on his bed. He feels like
he’s teetering on the precipice of something dangerous. “Not sick of me yet?”

Jungwon meets his gaze suddenly, almost fiercely so. “Never, hyung.”

“Careful, Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung mutters, feeling a little bit like the breath has been stolen
out of his lungs. It’s funny how easily things seem to switch between them; how easily
Jungwon unravels him with a simple look, a few words. “Your favouritism is showing.”

Jungwon leans in a little closer, emboldened. “And, so what if it is?”

“Well, I can think of a couple people who’d be a little mad at me because of it,” Heeseung
jokes, for his sake more than Jungwon’s.

Jungwon huffs out a laugh. He pulls away and Heeseung almost regrets shifting the mood.
“Sorry about Sunoo-hyung today. He seemed a little annoyed with you after lunch. I swear, I
didn’t say anything bad about you–”
“It’s fine, really. I can handle Sunoo glaring at me a little, for any reason, and he got over it
by the end of practice.” Heeseung smiles reassuringly. He doesn’t mention his mild panic and
the ensuing conversation with Sunghoon, obviously. “You can always talk to whoever, about
whatever you want. But you can talk to me, too. Especially if it’s about me.”

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

Heeseung’s words hang heavy between them, for a moment. Jungwon audibly inhales. His
eyes are sharp and searching, like he’s looking for something in Heeseung’s face, like he’s
waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to take it back, or laugh it off, or pretend it means
something less than it does.

Heeseung almost does, as always, taken aback by his own honesty, but Jungwon is so–he’s
just impossible to ignore. He’s impossible not to want. Heeseung would be lying, to say
otherwise, and he’s done enough of that as it is. “I mean it, Jungwon-ah. You can tell me
anything. I want you to.”

Jungwon leans in again. This time, neither of them pull away. “Not keeping me at a distance
anymore, hyung?”

“No. I know it might be hard to believe, but it hasn’t been like that for a long time.”
Heeseung’s voice is almost a whisper. The atmosphere feels delicate, suddenly. “Not with
you.”

That must’ve been the right thing to say. Jungwon smiles softly, a small, pleased thing, and
nods like he’s finally made up his mind on something. “Remember how I said I was still
working up the courage to ask for what I want?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Heeseung replies. “At Han River.”

“Well, this is me, doing that now.”

Heeseung freezes. “Jungwon-ah–”

“Just–let me say everything, first. Please?” Jungwon’s voice trembles a little at the end.
Heeseung nods so hard his neck aches. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest,
and Jungwon’s must be the same. “You know… I thought I’d be seventeen forever. Like, life
began and ended as a trainee. I did so many things for the first time, I learnt so many things, I
met–I met you. And now it’s like, well, I’m not seventeen anymore. We aren’t trainees
anymore. The rest of my life is ahead of me.”

“You’re a little young to be having an existential crisis, Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung replies

quietly, then he thinks back to his own thoughts as of late. “We both are.”

Jungwon smiles knowingly. “Our lives don’t exactly look like the typical twenty-something’s
life, do they?”

“No, I guess they don’t.”

“Even still, I don’t think that should stop me from finding happiness, wherever I can. Or from
pursuing the things I want.” Jungwon is so close Heeseung could probably count his
eyelashes, feathery and pretty. He looks at Heeseung with a kind of sure, singular focus, that
makes him feel like he’s the only person in the world. It’s exhilarating as it is terrifying, but
Jungwon seems undaunted; “For me, that’s you, hyung. I think it’s always been you.”

“M–me?” Heeseung stammers, his tongue like lead in his mouth. Part of him knew it was
coming, but it still floors him anyway.

Jungwon’s gaze is gentle. So are his hands, which slowly slide up to rest on Heeseung’s
shoulders. His hold is loose, like he’s giving Heeseung an out if he really wants it, but his
voice is sure. “Yes, you. Who else would it be?”

Heeseung’s default response would be to make a joke, say something about Jay always being
his favourite hyung, but it doesn’t feel right. But he doesn’t know what to say, either.
Heeseung has never had anyone confess–because that’s what this is, he’s sure of it now–to
him like this before. With that gentle, quiet bravery Jungwon seems to possess in spades.
Jungwon’s affection is different from the kind they get from fans, different even from the
crushes he had when he was in school, or from what Heeseung felt for Beomgyu when they
were teenagers.

It’s kind, but it’s sure, and it comes with no pretenses. No caveats, no expectations. Only
honesty.

Jungwon takes his silence in stride, and smiles. “You know, I actually told Sunoo-hyung I
might confess to you today. I think that’s why he was annoyed at you, a little. He was just
looking out for me in his own way.”

“They’re all kind of nosy like that, aren’t they?” Heeseung replies, laughing quietly. There’s
that word again; confess. Because Jungwon has feelings for him. Because Heeseung, of all
people, is someone who makes Jungwon happy. Someone that he wants.

Heeseung understands wanting, a little too well. Looking at Jungwon, with his pretty smile
and even prettier eyes and his brave, kind heart, Heeseung knows that he wants this, too.
Wants Jungwon, in every way.

“Sunoo-hyung means well, and you know he respects you. They all do. He just thinks you’re
even more emotionally unavailable than Sunghoon-hyung was.” Jungwon is still smiling
something soft and gentle, his hands still on Heeseung’s shoulder. A steady, reassuring
weight. He hasn’t even asked for Heeseung’s response to his confession yet, just going along
with whatever nonsense Heeseung’s muddled brain can come up with.

Maybe he already knows. Heeseung always feels like glass in front of Jungwon, transparent
and delicate.

“Well, Sunoo would know, wouldn’t he?” Heeseung replies, avoiding Jungwon’s knowing
gaze. His hands tremble, and he balls them into fists in his lap. He’d reach out for Jungwon,
otherwise, and if he did that he’d never let go. “Maybe you should listen to him.”
“Well, I know you better,” Jungwon says firmly. “And I can handle myself. I’m not a child,
hyung.”

“No, you’re really not.”

Yang Jungwon is a lot of things–he’s skilled, he’s smart, he’s trustworthy. He’s a great singer,
dancer, and performer. He's diligent and hardworking. He’s their leader, strong and steady,
always the most dependable in the face of setbacks despite how young he is in comparison.
He’s endlessly, selflessly kind. He’s cute and sweet, when he wants to be; when he allows
himself to be.

He’s by Heeseung’s side, always. He’s a dream.

“Won’t you look at me, hyung?” Jungwon asks quietly. “I’m right here.”

Lee Heeseung is a lot of things–and a weak, weak man is one of them.

“I’m always looking, Jungwon-ah. You’re all I ever see, sometimes.”

The careful tension finally snaps.

It’s hard to say who moves closer first, but it's clear that Jungwon kisses him. Slowly, as if
giving him time to pull away, but Heeseung doesn’t. He could never.

Jungwon kisses him like he’s something to be treated carefully; something to be gentle with,
something to be savoured. Heeseung can’t remember the last time he was kissed with such
purpose, such unquestionable intent and want. He burns with it, and his hands unfurl to clutch
onto Jungwon’s broad shoulders, holding onto him like he’s an anchor and Heeseung could
drift away at any moment.

“Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung says in the small space between them, breathless. A devoted prayer.
He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his own ears, loud and erratic and relentless. “I–I want
you, too. Please stay.” Don’t leave me. Let me hold onto you.

“I’m right here, hyung,” Jungwon repeats, pressing their foreheads together. His hands,
gentle and affectionate, slide up to cup his face. They stay there, holding him together. “I
won’t go anywhere.”

He kisses him again, with more urgency this time, and his desperation tastes sweet and
familiar. Heeseung falls back first, until he’s splayed out on his bed with Jungwon hovering
above him, straddling him. Instinctively, his hands find Jungwon’s impossibly tiny waist,
slipping beneath his–Heeseung’s–oversized hoodie. In contrast to his waist, Jungwon’s
shoulders are miles wide, and Heeseung feels entirely engulfed by him. He likes the feeling a
little too much. He could get lost in it; in Jungwon.

When they finally pull apart and Heeseung opens his eyes, Jungwon really is all he sees.

“Hyung, I–” Jungwon begins, sounding as breathless as Heeseung was before. Still, his eyes
are determined. “I really, really like you. It’s probably not a very smart idea, like, as our
leader, but as Jungwon, I… I’m going to keep liking you. I’ll make it work.”
Heeseung’s grip on Jungwon’s waist tightens. He pulls him even closer, because he wants to,
because he’s had a taste of Jungwon and he can’t imagine ever going back, and it feels like
breaking all of his rules, all at once. Scary. Liberating. Jungwon lets himself be pulled in, and
their lips are close enough to brush together when Heeseung whispers; “You won’t regret it?”

“No. Will you?”

“I could never regret you, Jungwon-ah. I like you too much.”

The smile Jungwon gives him in response is blinding–the kind of happiness that eclipses all
else. Heeseung has no choice but to kiss it right off his lips.

Jungwon doesn’t seem to mind.

•••

Heeseung wakes up the next morning with Jungwon clinging to his side, face tucked into the
crook of his neck and a leg slung tightly over his own, warm and real.

The last time Jungwon had been in his bed, Heeseung had woken up on the couch, cold and
alone, spiraling over things that feel insignificant now. The sight that greets him today makes
him wonder if he shouldn’t have left before. The awkwardness would’ve been worth it.

Heeseung wakes up first for once, and he gets to just look. Jungwon is sweetest when he’s
asleep, no traces of stress on his face. Like this, he finally seems as young as he really is,
pretty and guileless, the weight of leadership and everything their lives entail off his
shoulders for the brief time he’s dreaming. Heeseung wishes he could be this calm all the
time, comfortable and at peace.

Jungwon had taken off his hoodie at some point last night, leaving him in one of his many
oversized t-shirts, the collar stretched loose from years of wear. It hangs low off his
shoulders, putting that damn collarbone on display, and Heeseung can’t look away. He’s
never been able to, not even when they practiced, and now that they’re alone it’s even worse.
He wants–he wants so much. It drives him crazy. To pull Jungwon just a little closer, to touch
like he’d never allowed himself to before, to press kisses along the delicate skin and leave
marks where everyone could see, no matter how stupid that would be and how much trouble
they’d get in.

Heeseung has always been a little afraid of desire, the beast that it was. It always felt
dangerous, like it would eventually blindside him. Like it would grow into something out of
control, something greedy and stupid and–

“You’re staring,” Jungwon mumbles under his breath, his eyes still closed.

Heeseung’s worries seem to dissipate at the sound of his voice. A reminder that liking
Jungwon could never be something to fear, not when he was this lovely, this deserving of
Heeseung’s desire, this lovable. Jungwon was inevitable. A foregone conclusion.

“You’re pretty,” Heeseung says, in lieu of all of that.

Jungwon makes a sleepy, disgruntled noise, twisting around in Heeseung’s sheets until he’s
facing the opposite direction. “Cheesy.”

“You don’t like it? I’ll stop, then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Heeseung laughs a little, but it comes out shaky. Jungwon quickly turns back around to face
him, oddly attuned to every shift of his mood, every turn of a gear in his overthinking brain.

“What’s wrong?” Jungwon asks, blinking blearily up at him. He looks cute in the morning,
trying to shake off that last bit of sleep, so soft, but steady. Always steady, waiting for
Heeseung to lean on him a little more. “And please don’t say it’s nothing, hyung.”

“I just–I’ve never done this before,” whispers Heeseung, as if keeping it quiet would make it
less true. Less scary. “Not when it mattered. And this–you–matters to me. I don’t really know
what I’m doing, and I just… I don’t want to fuck this up.”

I feel like I like you too much. And it's still not enough. I don’t know how to carry it all
without buckling beneath the weight.

That might be the scariest part of all–scarier than liking someone, or wanting them this much;
he doesn’t know where to, from here. Lee Heeseung is always supposed to know. That’s who
he is to everyone, who he’s always been. He’s nothing, otherwise.

“You don’t have to know, hyung. Honestly, I–I might be a little jealous, if you did,” Jungwon
replies, tracing the curve of Heeseung’s jaw with a gentle finger. Everything about him is soft
in the morning, from the way he holds Heeseung to the sweet, reassuring look in his eye.
“We’ll figure it out together. A relationship is between two people.”

Heeseung’s lips quirk up into a small smile. He remembers Jungwon’s determination from
last night, his resolve. “You’ll make it work?”

“We will. Together. We always do.” Jungwon curls up closer, tucking himself into Heeseung’s
side again like they were made to fit together. One of his hands rests on Heeseung’s chest,
tracing shapes aimlessly over thin fabric. “And you matter a lot to me too, hyung. I’ve liked
you for a while.”

Jungwon’s touch makes him shiver. “You have?”

“I can’t remember a time when I haven’t, but I didn’t know if it would do us any good if I
said anything. I was just… living with it quietly, I guess.”

They’re similar in this, too, as they are in most things. Heeseung is familiar with the feeling
of living with things quietly, always trying to carry the burden of emotion by yourself. He’s
glad Jungwon isn't anymore. He’d gladly shoulder the weight with him.

Heeseung reaches up to intertwine their fingers, halting the motion of Jungwon’s hand. He
squeezes softly, once, twice. “What changed your mind?”
“What changed yours?” Jungwon asks. “When we were at Han River, you said you’d never
wanted anything more.”

Heeseung is quiet for a moment, his free hand trailing softly along Jungwon’s spine as he
thinks. “You just… you make me honest, Jungwon-ah. I’ve liked you for a while, too. I guess
it took me a little while to admit it myself, but you’re impossible to deny.”

“Impossible to deny?” Jungwon repeats with a smile, tilting his head inquisitively. “So, you’d
do whatever I want?”

They both laugh a little, but Heeseung’s eyes are honest as they stare at Jungwon, affectionate
and imploring. Tender. Vulnerable. “Of course I would. You have me wrapped around your
finger.” Heeseung detangles their intertwined hands, holding out his pinky finger for
emphasis. “Be careful with me, okay?”

Jungwon hooks his pinky with Heeseung’s, then presses a soft kiss to it. A promise. “You too,
hyung. But I trust you, like always. So trust me, too?”

“Always, Jungwon-ah.”

When Heeseung kisses Jungwon this time, slow and full of promise, it feels like enough.
Another dream, realised. It feels like everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s never let
himself have until now; it feels like his, finally.
End Notes

i love heeseung so much. i just love him. he fascinates me and inspires me. someone please
tell him he doesn't need to carry everything all by himself all the time. oh wait MY
JUNGWON DID! exactly. i love you heewon. they are both very important to me. the oldest
x leader dynamic will do it for me every time.

also, i truly believe irl heegyu are fine and close and besties. this was all just for the plot and
heeseung;s character development don't get it twisted.

lastly, if you were curious, a bit of jungwon's mindset was inspired by his solo 'my little day'
episode where he talks about how he did a lot of things for the first time as a trainee and he
thought he'd be one forever, and now work makes him the happiest, etc. and he's okay with
that right now. but i like to think there is a part of him that wants more and knows he deserves
to be happy and fulfilled in every way! so. hence the jungwon in this fic. he's my darling.

i had a lot of fun writing this and articulating all these different feelings about heewon but
also myself, too, so! i hope you enjoyed reading <3

(and once again, hi alex ily thank you for being my first reader always. i feel good about
posting my enha fics because of you!!! so thank you!!!!!)

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