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undefeated

Summary:

3racha share a moment to themselves after the first win.

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They worked hard. Day in, day out, they worked as hard as they possibly could, and then more. Endless nights in the studio, before waking up to practice with only a few hours’ sleep. Dancing until sweat ran down their backs, and then writing music until their ears ached, necks cramped and heads pounded.

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung barely ever took a moment to recognise it themselves, tell each other they’d done well, but they knew it. They knew they’d pushed themselves to the limit, and had five albums to show for it. Maybe that’s why it hit them like a punch to the stomach to hear they’d had their first win.

Their name came up on the screen and Changbin wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Chan’s neck, squeezing him tight as other arms joined the hug and it sunk in that they had won. He could feel Chan shaking, but as always, the leader took the microphone with steady hands, stood up strong for all of them, and made the speech Changbin knew he couldn’t have got through himself.

The other idols were bowing to them. Changbin vaguely remembered to bow back, but could barely straighten his back as his knees were weak beneath him. He bent over, head rushing and so much emotion clogging up his throat that for a moment he could only stand still, trying to breathe through it.

Then they played the song. The song the three of them had written, and each of the members let their joy show itself in their jumping around the stage, cheeks streaked with tears but smiles spread wide over their faces. They repeated their thanks to the audience, their fans, what seemed like a thousand times – Changbin didn’t think any number could amount to how grateful they really were.

When they made their way off the stage Chan gathered the group in a huddle, briefly telling everyone they had done well, and thanking them for their hard work. Eight faces smiled back at him, their own gratitude showing in their pink cheeks and shining eyes.

The journey home was a blur; they clustered into cars and were quickly driven back to the dorm, hearing managers speak at the front but barely registering their words, still reeling from the elation and bewilderment. Changbin’s head ached and he pressed it against the cool glass of the window, grinning slightly to himself and feeling Woojin’s hand squeeze his knee.

The whole group was exhausted, but this time it was in the best kind of way, and they each bid their goodnights relatively quickly, falling into bed and letting the euphoria of the day wash over them. Changbin could hear the youngest talking lowly, probably retelling the events of only a few hours before. He sighed into his pillow. He was tired but his mind was still racing; he stared at the ceiling with too many thoughts spinning through his head and heard the others fall asleep. The dorm became quiet. Until it wasn’t.

He heard a door shut quietly. He would have passed it off as someone getting water if he hadn’t caught the shaky breaths as light footsteps made their way down the hall past his door. Concern peaked, and his mind awake anyway, Changbin sat up, quietly making his way outside and into the main room.

Chan was hunched over the counter in the kitchen, his hands gripping its edges and his head lowered. His back was shaking.

Changbin’s throat immediately closed, his eyes stinging at the sight before him. Not only was it painful to see their leader, his best friend, like this, but it also triggered a surge of emotion within Changbin because he could feel exactly what Chan was feeling. Every quiet sob felt like it was within Changbin’s chest and his own breaths became shaky as he made his way over.

“Chan…” He whispered, and the elder jumped, turning his head. Changbin had expected him to pull his usual leader move, and pretend nothing was wrong; act stoic as he always did. But something about seeing Changbin seemed to set him off more, and Chan’s face crumpled, tears falling from his lashes.

Changbin strode forward, reaching Chan in two steps and wrapping him in a hug. The elder clung to him, burying his face in Changbin’s neck and crying earnestly, his fingers curling into fists and Changbin had never felt Chan seem so small. His own eyes were wet and he took a deep breath as he ran a hand up and down Chan’s back, holding him tight.

“I’m sorry I-“

“Don’t.” Changbin cut him off sharply, but quietly. “Don’t you dare apologise.” Chan stuttered a breath, melting further into Changbin and tightening his grip.

They stood in the artificial, dim lighting of the kitchen for a while, just holding each other. It was rare for either of them to show this kind of affection. But both of them were completely overwhelmed with emotion; Changbin didn’t think he’d ever felt more grateful for the man he was hugging. And he told him so.

Chan moved his hand up to grip the back of Changbin’s head when he heard the younger boy’s voice shake. Eventually, they both stopped crying and it turned to laughter. Chan muffled his chuckles into Changbin’s shoulder and they didn’t need to speak to share the joy emanating from each of them.

They were stilled by another noise, a small shuffling coming from elsewhere in the dorm. Chan pulled back. It was the first time Changbin had seen his face clearly and he wanted to cry again at the leader’s bare face and tousled hair, eyebrows drawn together as he listened carefully, hand absent-mindedly lifting to rub beneath his eye where tear tracks lingered.

They shared a glance as the noise got slightly louder, and a door was pushed shut. Sure enough, a hunched figure emerged from one of the rooms, looking tiny in an oversized jumper and a fringe much too long for his face.

“Jisung.” Changbin whispered, not able to stop a small smile from growing on his face. It dropped quickly, however, when Jisung looked up and the tears on his cheeks shone in the kitchen light. Chan made a concerned noise, already moving towards him.

Upon seeing the two of them, taking in Chan’s red eyes, Jisung’s face quickly scrunched up and tears began dropping onto his cheeks.

“Hyungs…” He mumbled tearfully, stumbling over. Chan and Changbin were quick to meet him, catching him in a hug and Changbin found himself choking on emotion again as they wrapped their youngest in their arms. Chan rested his chin on Jisung’s head, which was bowed into Changbin’s shoulder, hands gripping each of their backs.

“Sungie…” Changbin whined quietly, trying to blink away the wetness building in his eyes yet again, running his hand through the younger’s hair and feeling him shake under his grip.

“Shh… don’t cry.” Chan was whispering, his hand rubbing up and down Jisung’s spine.

“You two were crying before I came in.” Jisung mumbled, barely audibly, into Changbin’s collarbone and Chan let out a watery laugh, pressing his lips against the top of Jisung’s head.

“Fair enough.”

After a while Jisung stilled, but they remained in their knot of limbs, taking comfort in each other as much as they were giving it.

“I can’t believe it,” Chan whispered into the quiet. “All those nights in that studio… every time we felt like giving up, even before debut. It all feels worth it now.”

Changbin closed his eyes.

“You two are the reason I still love music so much,” Jisung whispered after a moment, voice still wavering. “I don’t know… where I’d be if you two weren’t with me.” The hug seemed to get tighter, each of them with a lump in their throat.

“Guys… we did it.” Changbin croaked, grinning and letting out a quiet laugh.

“We did it.” Chan confirmed, nodding against Jisung’s head.

The next morning, Woojin quietly woke up the other members to come and see what had become a pile of three boys under one blanket, fast asleep on the couch. Their legs were tangled together, Changbin with his knees slung over Chan and Jisung curled up into the leader’s side.

It was an easy opportunity to make fun of them, but all the members could figure out what kind of moment they had shared the night before; it was evident in Changbin’s puffy eyes and Chan’s hand still resting on Jisung’s cheek. So, they let them be - let them sleep through the morning until lunchtime.

If anyone deserved to rest, it was them.