Archive of Our Own

1.

The first time Ten kisses him, Kun is cooking breakfast, and Ten — Ten is sleepy and wrapped in a blanket, and he murmurs "thanks" when Kun hands him a plate and then there are lips on Kun's cheek. A soft, warm presence, there for a moment and then gone.

He freezes.

Ten moves away and sits down with his plate. He doesn't look at Kun.

Kun is… well, he's trying to rationalise what just happened. He's not fully awake himself, and he feels strangely warm, too warm, but also a bit scared, like anything can happen now — but he knows this came out of nowhere, and yet he doesn't really feel like asking Ten what was that. Belatedly, he wants to yell, demand Ten explain himself, hit him, maybe, but it's too late and Ten is just quietly eating in the corner of the sofa, knees pulled up, music playing quietly from his iPad.

Sure, Ten is playful, but he still doesn't go around kissing his groupmates at random. Does he? Kun is questioning his perception. Maybe Ten actually does do that, and he just never noticed because it's never been done to him, personally.

He sighs. The line of thinking is pointless unless he directly asks Ten about it, and he is not going to do that.

Instead, he grabs his mug of tea, gone lukewarm by now, and sits on the sofa as well. He glances at Ten, catches him staring off into the distance. Kun allows himself to observe him for a little while: how his brow furrows in some apparent thought, how he tugs on his own hair, how he misses his own mouth with the chopsticks.

Kun can't stop himself from snorting at the sight, and Ten turns to him, indignant.

"Don't even say anything," he warns.

"Wasn't planning to," he placates Ten and just like that, it's back to normal. Almost.

*

They don't talk about it, of course.

Kun tries to forget it ever happened, and honestly, he's quite successful. A lot happens, Ten leaves for SuperM schedules, they have a comeback, and an accidental — it has to have been an accident — kiss just flees his mind.

For the most part.

Unfortunately, it doesn't stop there. Seeing Ten come back from America, clearly excited but so, so exhausted and worn oit kind of makes something in Kun ache. He wants — he doesn't know what he wants, but it's more than what he managed to do: bring Ten tea without asking, cover him with a blanket when he sees him dozing off, reassure him about his vocal progress. Things he would not be caught dead doing just half a year ago.

When they still roomed together.

He sees him talking to Hendery sometimes, quiet voices, and he knows that he's there for Ten, there to listen and comfort, and he's happy, really.

It's what he tells Yangyang who catches him staring at the pair once.

"You're getting soft," Yangyang says, like that is disappointing him personally.

Kun doesn't think it's true. Inside, something of him spreads hard and bitter, as if he lost his chance on something important. He pushes it away.

It's harder to push away the feeling like Ten is getting further away from him, and then even stupider — feeling like oh, of course Ten wouldn't want him, now that he has cooler older brothers from SuperM, now that he's finally promoting globally, like he deserves, like he's always deserved.

It's a harsh, angry thought, because Kun believes in WayV, knows how hardworking each of his younger brothers is, how each of them deserves the world.

And yet—

"Are you okay?" Lucas asks him.

"Huh?" Kun responds, belatedly.

"You were like. Staring off for a long time. Did you read something weird online?"

"I… No, no, nothing like that," he explains. "Just, ah, had some music stuck in my head, but it's gone now."

Lucas eyes him dubiously, and Kun immediately regrets lying, knows how much more perceptive Lucas is than he lets on. Still, better him than Yangyang or Winwin.

Then Xuxi flashes him a big smile and says, cheerfully, "You're probably hungry! Let's go out tonight, maybe? Your treat!"

Kun nods automatically, and then catches up with Lucas' words.

"Hey," he starts.

"Perfect, I'll ask the others!" Lucas escapes Kun's attempt to grab him and reel him in and flees the room.

Kun sighs.

*

So it’s jealousy.

He hates feeling like this. It’s not like he’d even want to be in a big, utterly terrifying project like that, and if anyone deserves it, it’s Ten, who Kun has known ever since he joined the company, has seen him work and work, progress in countless ways, always improving himself, always striving for more, falling and getting back up, but something about seeing him somewhere different, with a different group in a completely different environment is— unsettling. Something about not seeing him in the dorm is weird.

(He pushes aside how he somehow doesn’t feel like this about Xuxi being in the project at all. But well, Xuxi is… young, and maybe Kun is soft.)

He manages to ignore it all the way through promotions, which are short but exhilarating, and suddenly it's time and Ten and Lucas are leaving again.

Kun really tries to stop himself from fretting.

"Did you take all your cords? Eye masks? What about—"

"Yes, yes, mom," Ten rolls his eyes, bringing his suitcase out of his room.

Lucas is talking about something with Xiaojun, and no one is paying them much attention.

"You better sleep on the plane and not draw the whole time," Kun says, in the lieu of something to say. His insides are all wound up, and there's this feeling again, like he's doing something wrong, like he missed his chance, like it's too late for— for something.

It's stupid. He's stupid. Ten is coming back in a couple of weeks, and anyway, it's nothing to get upset about.

He should just be happy for him.

Ten puffs, then smiles, and Kun is. His heart is in his throat, the thought of not seeing him for two weeks is suddenly unbearable, and he just wishes he could—

"Don't stay in the studio too much," Ten says, even though Kun literally never does that. Well, almost never. "And send me a sample or something, I'll tell you if it's even worth it."

Kun punches him in the arm.

“Go, leave already.”

“So eager,” Ten teases.

“Can’t wait for the dorm to feel even a bit quieter,” he answers, even though they both know Ten and Xuxi are not the main problem, usually.

“Give it a couple days and you’ll start missing me,” Ten says, smirking, and Kun is just coming up with the retort when their manager appears to tell them the car is here.

“You wish,” he manages to say, and Ten smiles, and then they’re gone, and Kun is not gonna miss him—them; he’s not.

*

He holds out for all of a week. On the seventh day, he’s opening his laptop and searching for video recordings from SuperM shows.

He doesn’t try to look for fancams of Ten solo performances, even though he knows what he’s doing there, has seen him practice days upon days, – but they find him way too easily, just a couple videos in.

He's exquisite. Exhilarating. Absolutely ethereal. Kun suddenly feels like it's insane they're even in the same group, so he closes his laptop, goes to the studio and writes and writes and writes until he can't anymore, until the melodies in his head replace the image of Ten on a grand stage, dancing like nothing else matters.

Next day feels less suffocating and wrong. He lets the kids take him out (not like they pay, of course). He keeps fiddling with one of his ideas, this one growing bigger and shaping into something, and he suddenly remembers his promise to Ten.

He fiddles with it for a couple more days before he finally sends him a two-minute track.

been working on this

He sends one more message off before he catches himself:

saw your performance. pretty good

He regrets it the next morning when he wakes up to seven new messages.

They’re mostly in Korean, with the first one being in Chinese, as if Ten tried and then abandoned the idea of communicating in it after just one character.

what?

you watched me? hahahahahha why

oh that's good.

is it new??

oh it's REALLY good i especially like the moment at 1:17

is it just instrumental or would you consider some lyrics?

because i think i could imagine something here

only if you want. ahah well

and then the last one is two hours after:

what did you watch?

The praise spreads through him like hot milk tea, especially since it feels like Ten is maybe more… forthcoming with it than he ever would be in real life. Maybe he was drunk. Kun remember him once, maybe a couple times, tipsy and giggly and hugging everyone even more eagerly than usual. Maybe that’s just how he is in text.

He leaves the room, makes breakfast and finally settles on a short:

don't remember. your solo songs. was just curious

He's lying. The tabs are still open on his laptop, and if he knew how to download the videos, he probably would have already done that.

*

Next day, there’s a pic from Ten waiting for him.

It’s just a cat on the street, and there’s no message accompanying it, but something about it feels momentous.

He sends back a picture of blurry Yangyang and Xiaojun in the middle of a non-fight.

They don’t send anything else.

The day after, he wakes up to five pics: a view from the hotel room, some American street, a couple more cats and Mark and Xuxi goofing off.

It continues like this, a back and forth without much being said or explained. Sometimes Kun will send him a snippet of his work, sometimes Ten will send a small video of his SuperM members doing something dumb, or just a glimpse at some busy city. They never send selfies.

He tries not to watch the fancams again, as if afraid Ten will somehow find out.

“What’s up?” Yangyang asks one day, falling onto his shoulder from behind.

“Get off! And nothing’s up,” Kun replies, trying to shake him off.

“Noo, you were smiling at something. What is it?” Yangyang manages to get a look at Kun’s phone screen before he puts it away. “Hey! Is that from Ten? Why didn’t you share?”

Kun… has no idea, just like he has no idea why Ten hasn’t sent these photos to the group chat. Both he and Lucas send some updates, a selfie here and there or just a short message about how the concert went, but all of these photos and audio samples and videos – they were just between the two of them.

He glances up. Yangyang is looking at him as if he’s trying to figure something out. Kun hates that look.

“Hey, hey, whatever, it’s fine. Didn’t mean to pry,” except, of course, he totally did.

“Sure,” Kun replies with suspicion. Yangyang flashes him a grin.

“You should smile more, Kun-ge! Ahhh, don’t hit me!”

*

Time goes faster than he thought it would. Soon enough, their missing members are back, and they have fansigns and fanmeetings and an award show — and something in Kun settles. This, this is right, all of them together. He wants to bottle up these moments and hide them somewhere far away. Open them when he's alone and cradle them in his hands, remembering.

It's only when they're in Osaka with Sicheng that it hits him that he has barely spoken to Ten alone since his return from America. It's like he got so caught up in everything — well, they all did — that he only now realises that the steady flow of images stopped, and yet they never even mentioned it.

He doesn't even know what he would talk about, or how he would bring it up, but he just needs… a sign that it meant something.

And the pictures are there — he could even go through them (he does, maybe, sometimes), but now that they both are in the same country, Kun just wants... more.

So once they're back in Korea and have a couple of days to breathe, he gathers himself together and sends a text to Ten, just a simple "come by the studio?" — and gets a quick "ok" in response.

He gets nervous and berates himself for it; fiddles with too many tracks and does not do any real work on a single one. Finally, Ten comes, slipping into the room like a cat.

"Well?" he says when Kun just sits there.

"Well?" he repeats.

"You wanted to show me something?" Ten continues, still in Mandarin. It's funny, Kun half-expected him to maybe be back to defaulting to Korean with him, after his time with SuperM, but if anything, he just seems to be more willing to drop English words here and there.

"I… yeah," he says, realising that Ten probably assumed he had an actual reason for calling him here. "Sorry, there's nothing really finished, but you could still listen, if you want."

Ten shrugs. "Sure." He sits down and listens, nodding at times and pointing stuff out, and Kun has also forgotten how nice that feels. After a while, he runs out of tracks to show, and they seamlessly switch to watching stuff on their phones, until Ten says, “Oh, this reminds me of something," and scrolls through his camera roll, which is just… a very long process, and then shows Kun some restaurant, presumably, from America.

“Hm, I remember this one,” Kun realises. Or maybe not this specific one, but it looks familiar— “Oh! You’ve sent me something from this place, some food photo I think?”

“Have I?” Ten asks, a bit doubtful. “Oh— right, maybe?” He giggles. “I guess I’ve sent too many if I don’t even remember for sure.”

“You definitely sent too many,” Kun replies immediately, even as his heart sings.

“Yangyang asked why I didn’t send him pictures of cute cats,” Ten continues, still laughing.

“What did you say?” Kun asks against himself.

“That he was a dog person and as such, didn’t deserve them.”

Kun breaks into laughter, and Ten beams.

They decide to leave the studio for today (well, Ten complains he's hungry several times before Kun acquiesces) and end up in the dorm kitchen, Kun brewing and pouring them both tea.

"It's weird how quick my brain… adapts?" Ten says, with the last word in English. Kun nods to show that he's understood, but Ten hands him his iPad and Kun wordlessly enters the word in Mandarin. He watches Ten mouth the word several times and he thinks: I missed this.

"You're very flexible," Kun says, shrugging. Ten glares at him, but without any heat in it.

"True, I guess," he says in the end and nearly puts his whole face into the mug, breathing in the tea. (Kun missed this.) "But I just meant… I thought it would be harder. The SuperM thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Not the languages, specifically, but like… being in another group, again. Debuting… again." Ten's gaze becomes kinda distant. "Performing all the way in America."

Kun hums, allowing Ten to continue in case he wants to, but Ten is quiet.

"But it was fun?" he asks then.

"Oh, sure," Ten replies easily.

Kun wants to ask him so many questions — how did it feel, what was the difference in the audience, what was it like performing solo versus with a group, what are American fans like, how was his relationship with the guys from senior groups, — and he fears he might spill over, fears to be so obvious in his interest. He should be satisfied with what Ten chooses to share, he shouldn't… ask for more.

He's maybe starting to realise it wasn't jealousy.

"But I missed this," Ten says suddenly without any prompting and smiles slightly. He doesn't clarify if this means WayV, or performing in Korea, or maybe — maybe — drinking tea with Kun in their kitchen.

"I missed you," Kun says, instead of a million other things he could've said. Should've said, probably. He stares at his tea, darker than it should be, overbrewed the way he always does it.

There is silence, and Kun looks back up.

Ten’s expression is blank, or no, not blank, just completely incomprehensible. Maybe he just can’t really read Ten.

He doesn't think he said something that out of place, unless Ten was just really attached to the confrontational nature of their friendship.

“It’s been a couple weeks since we came back," Ten mumbles, finally.

Kun shrugs. Something in him just doesn’t feel like pretending. “Still.”

Ten is looking at his mug, long fingers tightening around it.

“I’m going to sleep,” he announces suddenly and finishes his tea in one big gulp. He gathers his tablet and earphones and places the mug into the sink in just a matter of seconds.

“Right, of course,” Kun says to the empty kitchen.

*

They still have a lot of events before the end of the year, so Kun has his hands full seeing to it that the members don't overwork themselves, making them rest and eat enough, and it would've been good were it not for Ten.

Truth be told, Kun is not even sure if he’s not seeing things, because sometimes Ten is completely fine, smiling, switching between three languages, drawing, singing, touching and hugging him randomly — but then it’s as if he will freeze and retreat back into himself, and Kun is just left there without any idea of what to do.

It's still fine when they leave for Thailand, though, Ten seeming to have so much energy buzzing under his skin, and it spreads to others, too. Kun is thankful. It's fine if Ten steals glances at him sometimes and then avoids him for hours. He's still feeling so full and grateful — everywhere they look, there seem to be billboards and posters with Ten's face, and then, of course, they come to his home and see his family, and it's all a happy whirlwind, even if Kun sometimes catches Ten slipping into something, wearing his thinking-too-much face.

But then he beams brightly and sincerely, and it's fine again.

So Kun figures it should be okay if he visits Ten in his and Sicheng’s room, because Ten seemed so happy earlier, and Kun… he just can’t help himself.

He knocks on the door and has to wait a fair minute before it opens and Sicheng’s head pops out.

“You’re not live?” he asks, which is kinda weird to ask, but on second thought, it is a valid concern.

“No, no,” Kun replies. “Just wanted to drop by.”

Sicheng opens the door fully and steps aside to let him in, but Kun can feel his gaze following him when he slowly goes to Ten’s bed. Kun briefly worries if Sicheng feels neglected, but he thinks he knows the boy fairly well and can tell whether he’s up for conversations or not.

Ten has his earphones in, but doesn’t appear to be drawing or reading, and Kun just looks at him for a moment — white hoodie, slightly visible bags under his eyes, hair rapidly growing out — before remembering himself.

“Hi,” he says, tapping Ten’s shoulder gently.

Ten jumps up almost half a metre, his tablet flying off him, but thankfully, staying on the bed. There’s a snicker from the other bed.

“You scared me!” Ten says needlessly.

“Sorry,” Kun replies, a bit insincere. Watching Ten jump like this is always hilarious, even if he didn’t mean it.

Ten gives him a once-over, then looks him in the eye for a second and withdraws his gaze, stretching to get his tablet. “You need something?”

Kun shuffles awkwardly. “Just wondering how you were. I know we didn’t spend enough time with your family—”

“It’s fine,” Ten cuts him off. He seems to regret it a second later because he adds, “I mean, I always miss them, but it’s… I’m happy I got to have this, even if it’s short.”

“Yeah,” Kun agrees, sitting down. Ten gives him a short glance and looks away again, just as quickly.

The silence feels stifling, but Kun doesn’t let this deter him. “What are you listening to?”

“Nothing,” Ten says immediately. His eyes are darting around frantically.

“I mean–” he gives this up. “Okay. You have any plans for later? Want to get a drink?”

Ten seems to be at least thinking this over, and Kun has to watch his earlier peaceful expression transform into something troubled, and it’s impossible that he is the cause of this, but— but he is.

“No… Sorry,” Ten laughs. It’s fake. “I think I should catch this rest while I can, and this bed is just way too comfy!”

“Oh.”

God, he feels stupid.

“Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired, I guess,” Ten says, and Kun— well, Kun knows rejection when he gets one. He stands up, nods uselessly, walks to the other bed, exchanges a couple words with Sicheng, who actually pats him on the back before Kun leaves the room.

So there is that.

*

It gets worse.

Ten is, apparently, a master of avoiding conversations he doesn't want. Kun tries knocking on the door of his room, but just gets an apologetic smile from Hendery and a presumably sleeping lump of blankets on Ten's bed. He tries inviting him to the studio, but Ten says he's busy. He sends him a track instead, one time, but Ten's reply is curt and Kun doesn't do it again.

Ten doesn't sit on the couch with his tablet in the early mornings or late evenings anymore — not in the common room where Kun could catch him.

There's one time, though.

They room together in Shenyang, and Kun feels a mix of unease and trepidation. It seems like a good chance to talk to Ten, but he still doesn't really know what to say, how to approach it, and in the end he doesn't have a heart to do it, with Ten being subdued and quiet all evening.

They're on their respective beds with the rest of the group out to get some food, and Kun breaks the silence, although not the way he imagined over the past week or so.

"What are you doing?"

"Drawing," Ten says, which, duh, should've guessed. But what follows is a now unexpected, "Wanna see?"

Kun nods, sitting down on the edge of the bed, immediately falling towards the center when the bed dips more than he expected. Ten doesn't seem to have a problem with the proximity today, though — he settles back into the pillows and angles the tablet towards Kun.

"Oh," Kun says.

The drawing is a tree, but its parts look wildly different. Some are covered in chains and others in small flowers. A bird is sitting on one of the branches, seemingly trying to break the chains. There's dead leaves on the ground, too.

He feels Ten looking at him and trembles a little on the inside.

"Reminds me of your Lovely performance," Kun finally says.

"I guess so… it wasn't on purpose," Ten murmurs thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I get it."

Ten scrolls back through some of his drawings. Kun suddenly thinks of how his art was maybe the one thing absent from their exchanges while Ten was in America, and how he missed this part of him, as well. He doesn't ask him about it, instead giving small praises here and there. Luckily, Ten seems to accept them.

He doesn't explain anything about the drawings, though, but he never really does.

But then Kun makes a mistake, thoughtlessly putting his hand on Ten's wrist to indicate he wants him to pause and let him look at a particular drawing, and Ten freezes up, but instead of backing away, he just slowly turns to look at Kun.

"I just wanted…" Kun starts to explain when the door opens and the rest of their members flood in with bags of takeout.

Ten practically jumps away and up, making a beeline towards them.

"Food!" he exclaims, making grabby hands at Sicheng who laughs and hands him a bag that smells delicious even from where Kun is still sitting, where Ten was just a second ago.

They eat all together in the room, and Kun can't help but notice, amid the ruckus, that Ten is slipping bits of his food to Lucas. He frowns, and Ten must have noticed him looking because he gives him a smile that looks more tight and forced than he's ever seen.

Kun sighs. He'll make sure they all eat in the morning.

*

After, it steadily gets worse.

Whenever Kun tries to talk to Ten or even just approaches him, Ten closes up and refuses to budge. He doesn't let it show in front of the cameras, at least— well, until.

"What's your problem?" he snaps after their final fanmeeting of the year. Most of the others have already left, but Ten is taking his time changing.

"Nothing's my problem," Ten scoffs. "Don't you have things to do?"

"You barely even looked me in the eye during the performance," Kun says stubbornly, and then adds, softer, "What's wrong with you?"

"What, you need attention that much?" Ten throws at him, but it lacks the bite it would have a year ago, like he is desperately grasping at straws, trying to anchor himself to how they used to be.

Kun just doesn't know why.

"I need you to talk if something is bothering you," he says patiently, as if explaining to a child. Ten's face has gone a bit red, and Kun hates being the one to cause this, but he barrels on. "You've been acting weird for—"

"My problems are my own," Ten seethes. "Who do you think—"

"Guys…" Hendery says, and Kun only now realises he's been here the whole time. Ten also looks a bit dazed, his mouth snapped shut.

"Whatever," Kun mutters, gathering his things and leaving.

When they arrive at the hotel, Ten makes a beeline for the room he shares with Yangyang and doesn't come out until it's time to leave.

*

January passes in limbo. Ten mellows out, and they don't have any direct confrontations, but he is slipping through Kun's fingers and he can't find anything to do.

Worst of all, Ten looks tired. Or maybe not tired, but just a bit less lively, less bright, as if he's holding himself back.

As if we're holding him back, Kun thinks and immediately squashes the thought.

As the month progresses, it becomes easy for Ten to slip out of the dorm to practice stuff with SuperM members as well as his solo performances.

Kun watches him, sometimes, when he’s sure that Ten won’t see him. Seeing him sweat, gasp for breath, drop on the floor in exhaustion is painful, but it’s not something new to him, to any of them – working till your bones, muscles, every fiber of your body aches. Maybe Ten’s a bit more familiar with it than others. Maybe Kun just doesn’t watch the others as closely.

It’s these days that Kun is thankful for the rest of their members, more than ever. He’s grateful when he sees Yangyang being able to draw out Ten’s snarky side, Sicheng bring out the playfulness, and Hendery being the one to offer him comfort. He wonders if he should also reach out sometimes, but he’s never been the one to insist on what’s clearly not welcome, so he contents himself with overseeing the care provided by others.

*

Kun doesn't mean to see Ten off, but he would feel bad not saying goodbye to Xuxi, so he ends up standing in the hallway watching them bring out bags and suitcases.

He catches Ten glancing at him, but ignores it until it becomes a bit too obvious.

"What," he snaps and immediately regrets it.

"Are you not gonna ask me if I remembered everything?" Ten asks, his whole body seeming ready for a confrontation.

Kun sighs. "You're a big boy, you can remember your headphones by yourself."

Ten snorts, then comes closer. Kun watches him cautiously.

"Didn't stop you before."

"Well, you're all grown up now. I've done all I could," Kun throws his hands up in dismay.

"Please," Ten scoffs. "You still mother Yangyang and Xiaojun and Xuxi. Hendery too."

"I do not mother anyone."

Ten laughs, and Kun's missed that sound — away from cameras and just the two of them — so much that he doesn't register what's being said at first.

"Kun-maaaa," Ten drawls in his most whiny voice.

"You!" Kun snaps and tries to slap his hand over Ten's mouth, lest other members crawl out of the cornera and join in the teasing. Even if he doesn't mind it that much, not right now, not with Ten smiling and batting his hands away.

Ten keeps repeating the annoying nickname, muffled through and it's really a wonder no one has come out at the commotion yet. He finally manages to grab Kun by the wrists and tear his hands away.

It's the most contact they've had in… weeks, maybe, and Kun can't help but feel weird when he realises that.

"Kun-ge," Ten says, still teasing, maybe. Kun looks at him. He would like to be able to throw his arms around Ten, and he's never really been the one to initiate hugs, but the looming prospect of his abscence suddenly feels unbearable. He wants to say so many things, how Ten was stupid to avoid him and they could've solved whatever it was together, how the group will feel weird without them, how he wants to exchange daily images again, how Ten is going to be amazing in every performance.

"I'll miss you," Kun says in the end, and something flashes in Ten's eyes, but he can't read his expression.

Their hands are still joined, his own now clasping Ten's slightly smaller ones, and when did that happen?

There's silence. Kun suddenly remembers the last time he admitted to missing Ten. Maybe these words are cursed. Maybe they are a spell that render Ten mute.

When Ten stares at their joined hands, Kun jerks his away.

"Bye," he says and goes back to his room so as not to see him leave.

(Later, he has to apologise to Xuxi for not saying a final goodbye in the end.)

*

He ignores the ache and the weird solitude and the way his heart jumps whenever he sees a notification from the groupchat. Ten, of course, doesn’t message him personally, and so Kun doesn’t do that either, afraid of making it even more uncomfortable. It’s fine. They both send some stuff where the group can see it, and there’s no delicate feeling of something special happening, but it’s okay.

He gives in and watches fancams again, but they only bring pain. Seeing Ten, impossibly brilliant, impossibly far away, just hurts now. He wallows in these feelings until one evening, he is ambushed by the whole group (the ones still in Korea, that is) and dragged out to eat (read: feed them), walk around and just “relax for once, ge”.

It brings him out of his slump and back to thinking what he can do if reaching Ten is not on the table.

Well. He has a lingering suspicion that Winwin could know something, but squeezing anything that Dong Sicheng doesn’t want to share is an impossible task, so. He doesn’t try.

He goes for the next best option.

kun
hey, taeyong-hyung

There’s a couple hours until he gets a reply, and Kun makes an attempt to get rid of the jitters by cleaning around the dorm. It works, sort of. The dorm certainly looks better.

taeyong
kun!! hello

almost immediately he gets the next message:

taeyong
is everything okay?

kun
yeah. yeah it's fine, sorry for worrying you.

taeyong
oh good. well… is there any reason you wrote?

Kun's not very good at writing in Hangul, so it takes him a long time to type the next bit, considering he keeps deleting and retyping before finally settling on something short.

kun
I kinda… wanted to ask about Ten?

taeyong
ten?

taeyong
oh.

taeyong
what about him?

Kun tries to be faster this time, which is probably the reason for why the message comes out so dumb.

kun
is he like, okay? ㅋㅋ

He adds the laughs as an afterthought and winces immediately after the message is sent.

taeyong
he… is? do you mean right now? he’s fine, resting, I think. he was okay the last time I saw him!

kun
um… could we talk a bit? about him? like. leader to leader.

He starts typing out the next bit, slowly, but he gets a message before that.

taeyong
ok. you wanna call?

That… is an option — it would definitely be easier than typing was, but he would have to find some secluded spot. Kun throws a glance at Hendery and Winwin watching a movie; no way he's letting them overhear him. His room is occupied by Yangyang and Xiaojun doing god knows that. He can escape into one of the other rooms, but then one of the members might come back there and he'll have to explain himself… which really only leaves one option. He quickly types out, "if that's ok for you, hyung".

He barely has time to close himself in the bathroom before he gets the call.

"Hi!" Taeyong exclaims. He sounds a bit breathless.

"Hi, Taeyong-hyung," Kun replies timidly. It's kinda weird — they've never been super close, but their talks were usually pleasant, if not very frequent anymore. "How's the tour going?"

"It's… going," Taeyong laughs. "Exhausting, but exciting. Kinda unbelievable, to be honest."

"Still?" Kun asks and winces. That wasn't really polite, but thankfully, Taeyong takes it in stride.

"Ahh, you know… I can never fully believe I get to perform with these guys and on these stages. But then there are moments I forget about all of that, and we're just together, and they're fun, you know, they're just… very nice. So I just feel very grateful a lot." He laughs again, sounding a bit embarrassed.

Kun hums in agreement, because it's not like he has anything to say about that. There's still so much to do before they get a world tour — most importantly, before he feels like he could possibly deserve to do one.

"So Ten, huh," Taeyong drawls after a long pause.

Kun runs his hand through his hair. "I guess I just wanted to ask how he is," is what he finally settles on.

"But what do you mean?" Taeyong asks. "Is there something I should know or—"

"No, nothing like that," Kun replies hurriedly. "Just, uh… he's been a bit distant and he doesn't actually message me— us, that much."

"Oh," Taeyong sounds less surprised now, but Kun doesn't know if that's a good or a bad sign. "Oh, Kun, so you're worried?"

"Well… of course I'm worried." It's a bit of a strange question. "He's my group member."

There's a sudden crash, and Taeyong mutters "a moment, sorry", and then Kun can hear a door opening and "Sorry, Taeyongie!" in a slightly high voice that Kun thinks might belong to Taemin. Then the door closes and he waits in silence for a couple minutes in which he has time to wonder how Taeyong would explain him calling if Ten for some reason decided to seek him out. How Kun himself would explain it, to Ten.

The sound of the door opening brings him back to the present and away from the fears.

"Sorry, sorry," he hears from the receiver. "The boys… I m-mean, my members are kinda… uh. Anyway," Taeyong cuts himself off. "So, um. Did anything happen between you guys?"

Kun is not immediately sure if Taeyong means the group or just him and Ten, but he tries to think back to the strange autumn.

"I'm not sure…" he begins slowly. "Just, things have been kinda weird. We used to message before, during the first leg of your tour, but then he came back and it got kinda weird, and I have no idea why."

"You used to… ah. I see," Taeyong murmurs, and Kun has no idea how to take that. "It got weird? What do you mean?"

"Well…" Kun stares at the tiled floor. "He would kinda avoid us? No — me, really. He's become a bit withdrawn and… I couldn't…" he feels embarrassed over his stuttering, doesn't even know if it's because he's talking in Korean or if it's the uncertainty of the subject matter. "Ah, sorry. I guess I just wanted to know if he's doing fine. Since he's not exactly… forthcoming with information."

"Ah," Taeyong replies. "I see." Then he's quiet, and Kun has a great time fiddling with a door handle that's hanging kinda loose. Getting locked in here while secretly inquiring about his bandmate, now that sounds fun. "Hm, well, whatever happened, I think he's been fine on the tour? Like. Yeah. He's doing good."

He sounds sort of distracted now, and Kun briefly wonders if there's something Taeyong is not telling him here.

"I guess I just miss him," he mutters and then pauses and wonders if he can blame his running mouth on the fact that he's speaking a foreign language. He should take some pointers from Ten, who really doesn't seem to have that problem. "I mean— you know, the group is just not the same without him. And Lucas, too," he adds, feeling like the worst person ever.

Taeyong is laughing lightly again. Weirdly enough, it doesn't feel like he's mocking Kun in the very least, as if he just shares the sentiment that way.

"Ah, you don't need to worry. He loves you guys, really, so much. He and Lucas show us pictures sometimes—" Taeyong pauses here, and Kun wonders for a moment just what his members have been showing to their seniors. "Well, you know! He misses you all too, so don't worry, really."

Kun sighs. "Yeah, I feel kinda stupid for bothering you now, hyung. Sorry—"

"No no no!" Taeyong interrupts. "Ah, sorry. I mean, it's fine! I understand. You're a good leader, Kun."

Oh.

Well.

"It's not really… about that," Kun murmurs just as he realises that indeed, it is not. It hasn't been about his leader duties, or worrying about a group member, or anything like that for— a while, already.

It may be time to put a name to the weird feelings swirling in his chest whenever Ten's around. Whenever Ten's not around. All the time now, actually.

"Oh," Taeyong says and then it's so silent Kun starts wondering if the call has ended. He takes the phone away and stares at it — but no, it's still going on strongly. Almost half an hour; he winces. He's said so many things he really shouldn't have it's almost impossible to count them. "Oh Kun."

It's like they are both having the same realisation at once. Kun laughs briskly and startles at the sound that echoes around the bathroom. God, he's been hogging it for way too long, it's a wonder no one has tried to barge in yet.

"It's difficult with him, sometimes," Taeyong finally speaks, and he sounds different now, more serious, or maybe more sincere. "You know, it's like befriending a stray cat, you have to be patient… especially when it comes to dealing with emotions."

"So you think I— spooked him?" Kun murmurs, mostly to himself.

Some loud bangs come through the receiver, and Kun jolts from surprise.

"Sorry!" Taeyong hastily says. "That must be the members… again… a moment!" There's a conversation Kun is decidedly not listening in on, but he thinks he can still hear Mark's distinct voice before he puts the phone on the floor and takes a deep breath. He watches his reflection in the mirror. His hair is dark again and almost in need of a cut, his eyes behind glasses look wild and uncertain. God, he's a mess.

"Sorry again!" comes from his phone, and Kun picks it back up. "It appears I promised to go out for dinner with Mark and Jongin-hyung, are you gonna be okay?"

He sounds genuinely worried, and Kun smiles involuntarily at his own reflection.

"I'll be fine, hyung," he says. "Go and enjoy your day."

"Then I hope I helped somewhat," Taeyong offers in an uncertain tone.

"Very much so," Kun confirms. "I'm glad I called you." And he is.

"Fighting!" Taeyong says and hangs up.

Well.

He could maybe have a breakdown about this matter. After all, Kun never really was interested in romance before, mostly pushing it aside in lieu of more interesting things to pursue. He felt a bit weird for that sometimes, hearing wild stories among the trainees, but most of the time his hands were full, and so was his heart. There wasn't really room for doubt or wondering about possibilities, and he was truly fine that way. He's still fine, just maybe… concerned a little bit more than usual. Missing a little harder, caring a little stronger, focused just a little too much on one single person.

"Kun-geee," he hears from outside. "I swear to god, if you've been sick in there, I'm gonna kill you."

*

Days following his realisation Kun, once again, throws himself into work. He can't do much with this distance between them, so he does what he can: sends pictures and videos and messages to the group chat. Sometimes, Ten even responds.

So Kun spends his days in the studio, refining his dances, sometimes even works on his rap skills with Yangyang. He saves track after track after track and hopes shamefully that Ten might consider them worth his time once he returns.

It's not like he hopes for anything more; it's not that he thinks like that at all. Knowing he has feelings is almost liberating in a way — only now he feels the heavy weight they had on him with him none the wiser. It's better to admit: he misses Ten. He wants to see Ten, wants to hear him laugh, watch him dance, wants to bicker with him and make him tea and tell him to go rest when he practices too much.

It's only in the dark, in the quiet moments late at night that he allows his mind to drift beyond what he's imagined before. Touches, exchanged privately. Words he's never spoken before. Smiles, just for him.

He gathers all of these things and puts them in a jar, screws the lid on and puts it away. It’s still there, he can see them through the glass, but he knows they aren’t real.

The real thing is here soon enough.

"Hello," he says simply, when Ten finally comes back, and smiles.

2.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Lucas throws the door open, and the first thing Ten sees is Kun, who has quite obviously been waiting for them.

Why, just — why. Ten thought he'd have at least some time to prepare, but he should have known Kun would give him no reprieve. No, there he is — hair gone dark again without any comebacks, clothes looking impossibly cozy and soft, a welcoming smile; in general, everything Ten hates. Everything he… fuck.

Ten maybe hoped for some things, maybe thought that life would grant him small mercies here and there. Like, maybe Kun would start looking worse for wear. Maybe he would become simply an annoying older brother type again. Maybe Ten's heart would stop beating so stupidly fast at the mere sight of him.

The least Kun could do was not wait for his two wayward sons with welcoming arms, but of fucking course, here he is.

"Hello," Kun says, and he's smiling with dimples on his cheeks, and Ten is so warm inside he's afraid it will show on his face somehow and will betray him and Kun will know, and everyone will know—

"Hi," he croaks out. Besides him, Xuxi finally gets his shoes off and proceeds to crush Kun in a hug, then runs into the kitchen. Ten can hear him ooh-ing, probably at the food Kun prepared.

"Tired?" Kun asks softly while Ten is hanging his coat. "Hungry?"

"Mm. So-so," Ten replies, wondering how long he can spend with his back to Kun. "A bit."

"Come," Kun says, and Ten follows naturally, without sparing it a single thought.

Xuxi is already wolfing down his giant portion, and Ten heads to the pot but Kun stops him with a light touch and gestures to the table. "Just sit down," he murmurs.

Ten does as he's told.

Kun brings him food and pours him tea, and then Lucas perks up, "Oh, where's everyone, by the way?"

"Ah… they went to the movies," Kun says, and Ten feels awful for not asking earlier. "There's some foreign movie showing today, and Yangyang really wanted to go."

"And you..?" Ten inquires.

"Wasn't interested," Kun replies, but he's not looking at Ten, and god, he is a bad liar.

"Ah, okay,” Xuxi mutters, sounding a bit disappointed, and Kun laughs and ruffles his hair.

"I think they'll be back soon. They'll be glad, they really missed you."

Ten chances a glance at Kun, and finds Kun looking back.

For a moment, he's… afraid? Hoping? that Kun says those words again. Ten mentally steels himself for it, but Kun just smiles and nods towards the food.

Ten tries to squash the disappointment in his stomach. He almost succeeds.

*

If he thought he had too much of Kun before the tour, then now he is overdosing on him.

Kun, it seems, is everywhere. He is there in the kitchen when Ten wanders out of his room, even when he tries to do it as early as possible. Ten almost asks if he's slept at all, but stops himself at the last minute. Kun is there when Ten comes back from the extra dance practice, or even in the dance studio with him, allegedly because he "can't fall behind", but somehow always popping up with a water bottle or a pat on the back to say that Ten should maybe have a break. He is there in the dorm, making Ten's favorite dishes. He is there, in Ten's space, in Ten's mind, in Ten's heart.

Ten wants to be annoyed, wants to tell him off, wants to get him to mind his own business, but the truth is.

Ten is weak. Ten likes the attention, and care, and Kun's voice being the first to wish him "Good morning," and his treacherous heart is singing every time Kun looks at him and smiles like that, like he's happy to see Ten, like he just wants Ten to smile back.

Ten thinks, if he wasn't in love already, for months, for a year, maybe, he would fall now.

But of course, it's not that Kun cares for him and worries about him and looks after him. Or rather, it's not just that. It's the way Kun looks after all their members, how he used to look after dreamies, how he worked hard and never gave up despite long years of no results, how he's so giving with their fans and yet so bashful to express it. How he’s a deep, vast ocean that Ten can never get tired of exploring.

Ten wants to gather him in his arms and tell him, enough.

But of course, he's a goddamn coward. He doesn't know if that's what Kun wants, even if all the signs are obvious — he doesn't trust himself anymore.

He wants to trust Kun, wants so bad he's aching with it, but it’s so hard. Everyone always tells him how he’s so brave, how he’s so inspiring, how he can do anything he sets his mind on, but Ten knows better.

He would like to excuse himself with the noble idea of thinking about how the group could suffer if this went awry. Hell, he could be thinking about his own career, which is finally, maybe, somewhere on the path he wants.

But he knows, he knows this is not what he thinks about when he's watching Kun on the other side of the sofa out of the corner of his eye and wishing he could just shuffle over and smother him with his own body. Watching him leave for his room for the night and wishing he could go with him. Seeing him shiny-eyed and excited about the new comeback and praying, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

No, Ten knows his own fears.

What if I'm deluding myself.

What if I'm just an annoying little brother to him.

Kun has never shown interest in anyone.

I can't do this.

I won't offer my heart to be broken again.

So he watches, wondering if he's imagined the feeling of Kun's cheek under his lips; wondering if Kun would maybe read his mind and end his misery already.

*

Sicheng notices, of course. Like always.

"I want you to know that I want to stay as far from your love drama as possible," he starts, dropping by the practice room unannounced. Ten yelps. "But this is getting too much."

"If you tell him anything, I'll kill you," Ten says seriously, even though he knows Sicheng would never tell.

That's why Sicheng knows, and no one else does. That, and he's so goddamn perceptive — at least, when it comes to other people.

Some other people might sort of know, because Ten freely admits he wasn't his best self on the tour, and it was hard to keep Xuxi or Taeyong from noticing. But they wouldn't know it's Kun who made his mood swings impossible to navigate, that Kun was the one he missed the most and yet feared at the same time.

Sicheng knows way too much. Ten will catch his thoughtful gaze sometimes and feel as if his whole soul is laying bare. He supposes he should be thankful that Sicheng doesn't use his superpowers for evil, doesn't really care about other people's affairs.

Except, sometimes, he does.

Ten sighs and plops down on the ground.

"I don't know how much more I can take," he wails.

"Yeah, me too."

Ten glares at him. Sicheng's gaze turns a bit apologetic.

"Is it that bad?" he asks, completely unnecessary.

"It is bad. It's so bad, and he is so good," Ten murmurs.

There's a very exasperated sigh.

"It's obvious that he…"

"Nothing is ever obvious," Ten cuts him off. "Don't give me false hope." He can hear his accent growing more apparent and winces.

"You can't just drag this out," Winwin says, insistently. "That never ends well and moreover—"

His phone pings.

"Get it for me?" Ten asks, starfished on the floor. He's not moving from here for the next two hours, whatever it is.

"Oh. It's Kun-ge," Sicheng says.

Ten jumps up and grabs at his phone. Sicheng raises his hands up, looking resigned.

"Did you look?" Ten asks, suspicious.

"It was a very short message, it was impossible not to look," Sicheng says, rolling his eyes. "He just asked you to come to his studio."

Oh.

Kun wants him to… he asked… after all he's done?

"You look like you're about to cry."

"Fuck you," Ten replies eagerly, but his heart is in his throat and his stomach is turning inside out.

Sicheng smiles slightly. "Go and do something already before the others start to notice."

Ten shudders, thinking of their younger brothers becoming aware of what a mess he is.

"You…" he starts. "Whatever." He grabs his things and is out before Sicheng can say another word.

*

God, the studio.

Ten has had so many regrets over the past few months, but maybe the biggest of all has been refusing to see Kun's work, to watch Kun work on something so special to him. Something he was willingly sharing with Ten, and Ten, he just — he just threw it all away. He's been so afraid of falling even deeper if he allowed himself to get closer — but of course it didn't work. Of course he was falling steadily no matter what he did, no matter the distance the schedules or he himself put between them.

Kun just couldn't fucking stop being the best person ever, could he.

Ten takes a deep breath. Hopes Kun doesn't know he's lingering outside the studio door, loving and hating the thought of being alone with him again, having a glimpse inside Kun's mind and creative process.

Finally, he knocks.

"Come in!" he hears Kun say and opens the door.

He hasn't been here for a long time. Kun stopped inviting him when Ten would invent excuse after excuse, and — well, he's still beating himself up over it. But everything looks unchanged, including Kun himself.

"Hi," Ten croaks out.

"Hi," Kun says, smiling at him. "Sorry, did I pull you out of practice?"

Ten looks down at himself and realises he's still in the loose t-shirt and pants, probably sweaty, too. Oh god.

"Um, yeah, no, it's fine. Needed a break anyway." He tries to act nonchalant, like his heart isn't beating faster, like he isn't deeply regretting rushing here straight from the practice rooms.

Kun nods at the chair next to him and Ten drops down on it. He watches Kun rearrange something on his computer screen.

"You… wanted to show me something?" he eventually ventures. He wonders if he should apologise for ignoring Kun's offers all these months before, or if it's already too late.

"Yeah," Kun shuffles in his seat, then takes a deep breath. "Just… well. Wanted to know what you think."

"Okay," Ten replies, swallows his nerves as if he's the one showing his newly finished work to someone.

"Okay," Kun echoes and switches the keyboard on.

What—

Kun presses play on his laptop and soft beats fill the room.

Then he starts to play.

The song builds gradually. It's in G minor, but it doesn't feel hopeless or dark, just… solemn. Longing, maybe. After a couple minutes, it switches to something brighter. Hopeful. Kun makes a couple small mistakes, but keeps playing, undeterred. Ten thinks he can see his hands trembling slightly. There's different things coming in on the compiled track, but Ten can't tear his attention away from the piano keys. He can't believe he almost lost this, can't believe he was so foolish to let go of being close to Kun like this, the sounds resonating and settling inside him, Kun's sounds, Kun's music.

He wants to know the name of the song, wants to know how long Kun spent on it, what he thinks of when he is playing it, whether he will share it with the world, whether Ten is the first — maybe the only — person to hear this.

The song ends.

Kun is sitting there, unmoving.

Music is still ringing in Ten's ears when Kun looks up at him, and Ten can see him so clear, so beautiful, always there, always so gentle, so annoying, so goddamn perfect.

He can still hear the melody in his head when he reaches out a trembling hand and touches Kun's nape, stretching out from his chair and kissing him.

He thought: he'd never do this again, never open himself up like this, never make the first step. But it was not him, or rather, not him alone anymore, because Kun was the one who kept giving and giving and giving, Kun was the one to call him here today and play the music for him.

Kun gasps into the kiss, and Ten feels his eyes closing, feels all his longing slip out and into the kiss. God, he wanted it for so long and he didn't let himself want it for even longer, denying and ignoring as long as he could. He clutches at Kun’s hair, trying to ground himself, but it’s impossible, he’s lost, he’s had a taste and now he wants this forever, and Kun just barely started kissing back.

Kun’s kissing him back.

Kun's reaching out and grasping Ten by his shoulders, one hand staying and one sliding higher into his hair. Their knees knock together uncomfortably, but Ten doesn't care, doesn't want to move from this awkward position ever. His mind is floating somewhere, but it's like with every gentle touch of his lips, Kun is bringing him back to reality. Ten feels so safe.

It still gets tiring, straining out of his seat, but it's as if Kun senses it, and he tugs on Ten's arm, whispering "Come here" into Ten's mouth, and Ten follows, climbing over onto Kun's lap. They part when it happens, and look hesitantly at each other.

God, they're so close. And they kissed, and Kun— this must mean—

“I’m sorry,” Kun says in Mandarin, then repeats in Korean, as if aftaid that Ten will misunderstand him. “I’m sorry, I just didn't want to startle you even more, but now I'm sorry I didn't do anything earlier. It… it took me a while."

“I was so fucked up,” Ten admits with a laugh, and Kun's eyes are shining with affection, and Ten doesn't know how he could have ever doubted him. “You were just… so good, and always there, I don't know how I could not have fallen for you," he stops after this, wonders if it's too much, but Kun is smiling and stroking the back of his head with his knuckles. God. Ten is so done for. "But I… I got scared. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Kun says immediately, but Ten shushes him.

"It's just, you would be… the usual, and then you’d message me saying you watched my videos, and then you said you missed me, and I just— panicked, I guess, like, it was too much and not enough? Agh, this barely makes any sense."

"It's okay," Kun repeats and kisses his cheekbone. Oh god, is this how it's gonna be from now? Ten is gonna die. "I just… worried. You know."

"I know, I know," Ten whispers. "I… I thought I could stop this from happening.” He laughs again. “I was so stupid."

"You often are," Kun agrees, his expression turning smug.

Ten punches him in the shoulder and then kisses him. "Sorry," he says immediately. "I just. Can't stop myself."

"The don't," Kun murmurs right into his lips, and Ten whimpers before he's being kissed again.

This kiss is more thorough, more explorative, both of them less afraid to show how eager they are. And oh, is Ten eager. He tugs on Kun’s lower lip with his teeth and feels Kun’s hands settle on his waist, which just feels. So nice. So he does it again, and the hands tighten, and Ten deepens the kiss in appreciation.

Kun is not exactly a fantastic kisser, but Ten doesn't give a flying fuck about technique or skill or anything like that right now. Kun is choosing to kiss him. Kun is holding him, which already feels like he’s won in the best lottery imaginable, but Kun is also making those soft noises, and Ten wants to know all of them. He wants to coax them out of Kun, wants to be the one to figure out what makes Kun gasp and what makes him moan and— god, he’s getting way too ahead of himself.

But it’s like the dam is broken and everything spills out, all the things he didn’t allow himself to think about too much: holding and being held, seducing and being seduced, loving and being loved. Fantasies about good morning kisses freely mingle with fantasies of Kun red and panting under him (above him, beside him) and this is way too much for their first kiss, but Ten just can’t stop the speeding train of his mind.

He whispers Kun’s name in the non-existent space between their mouths and finds Kun’s lips opening for him, and oh god, now he’s definitely all sweaty and way too warm, but Kun doesn’t seem to mind, just kisses him more, deeper, like maybe Ten is not the only one who ached for this.

He loses track of time. He's always liked kissing because of that, but it’s been a while since he truly and completely forgot everything outside the immediate pressure of another mouth against his own. Not even their surroundings are present in Ten’s mind now, just Kun and his perfect warm touches.

Kun is the one who remembers to breathe sometimes, and one of these moments Ten can’t help himself and lets his mouth drift over to Kun’s jawline, ghost over his ears, pressing small kisses here and there, and delighting in the noises Kun makes. He grazes Kun’s neck with his teeth, just a little, barely there, but it’s enough for Kun to grab his head and bring him back up to kiss again. Ten shivers in delight. After a moment, they separate, breathing harshly, and Kun starts peppering kisses all over Ten’s face. Oh god, fuck, he can’t do this.

“Stop, stop,” Ten says, laughing.

“You kissed me before,” Kun suddenly blurts out, as if just remembering. “On the cheek.”

“Oh god. Oh god, so it did happen," Ten hides his face in Kun's neck. "God, sorry. I was so embarrassed.”

“Me too,” Kun mumbles, hugging Ten closer.

They sit like this, just breathing, and it’s not exactly super comfortable either, but it’s comforting. Ten knows right then and there that he’s gonna end up in Kun’s arms whenever possible, no matter what their other members might think. There’s nothing like this.

“You’re good too,” he hears suddenly and looks up.

“What?” Ten asks, dumbfounded.

“You’re… good,” Kun repeats, looking flustered. “And I like… I am. In love with you. I think I’ve been for a while, without really thinking about it.”

“Kun-ge,” Ten teases. Kun refuses to look him in the eye. “It’s okay. I gathered. But thank you for saying it.” He slowly gets closer and plants a loud kiss on Kun’s cheek.

Kun yelps. “Why are you like this!” he exclaims, looking away.

“Are you blushing?” Ten asks, snickering. “A whole makeout session didn’t make you blush, but this does?”

“I am not blushing.”

“Hmmm.” Ten lays a hand on his cheek. It is slightly warm, but then, everything is warm now. Kun slowly turns back to him, his mouth opened slightly. Ten doesn’t resist the temptation.

They kiss for an embarrassingly long time, or so Ten supposes, because he loses track of it again. It’s not particularly hurried or desperate, now that they’ve gotten all of the feelings out, it’s just intensely, stupidly good. Or, well, so he thinks. He’s not very objective, here.

They break apart at some point. Ten feels acutely uncomforable in his sweaty practice clothes, and he can tell that Kun is maybe, just maybe, tired of having him on his lap.

“Okay,” Ten says.

“Okay,” Kun repeats after him.

They look at each other and grin.

“Now that we’ve throughly debauched my studio,” Kun says, and Ten levels him a gaze that hopefully speaks volumes about how far this is from what actual debauchment would entail, “let’s go home.”

3.

“I forgot my nail trimmer,” Ten whines.

Kun rolls his eyes. “Ask the others, I’m sure somebody has one.”

“But I want mine!”

“This is what you get for not packing in advance.”

Ten glares at him through the screen. “This,” he points at himself, “is what you won’t get if you keep pretending I was to blame.”

“You kissed me first,” Kun reasons.

“After you were distracting me all day! What else was I supposed to do?”

Kun tries valiantly not to laugh. “Maybe, just once… pack in advance?”

“Should have just made you pack for me, like Yangyang always does,” Ten mutters.

“I heard that.”

“I know you heard that.”

“I’m not packing for you, but I could make you a list.”

Ten groans. “I hate lists.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Nothing that boring can be for my own good.”

“I know that you think boredom is the end of the world,” Kun says drily, “but it’s not.”

Ten smiles slyly. “Well, I’m bored now.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. Sadly, I’m too many thousands of kilometres away from you and can’t really salvage that situation.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure—”

“Ten. No.”

Ten continues smiling at him, and even if it’s slightly pixelated, Kun can recognise and recreate the exact expression in his mind perfectly.

“No. I don’t have a room to myself, and actually, neither do you.”

Ten wiggles his eyebrows.

“Actually, Xuxi is out.”

“How convenient for you,” Kun snorts. “Unfortunately, the dorm here is full of rowdy boys who can’t wait to storm my room at any opportune moment, so no. You’ll have to find ways to alleviate your boredom by yourself.”

Ten’s face suddenly turns innocent, at least, if Kun’s interpretation of pixels is correct.

“I just wanted to ask you to sing for me. Where exactly did your old dirty mind go?”

Kun is not going to blush. Ten won’t get him this easily. He is not going to blush.

Judging by the way Ten’s smile widens, he fails miserably.

“I just miss your singing,” Ten continues, still gleeful.

Well, this is too easy.

“I miss you,” Kun replies, worlds falling freely.

Ten’s mouth opens slightly. Kun has the absolute pleasure of seeing him go a bit pink.

“Not fair!” he huffs. “You can’t just throw this at me how you see fit.”

“I can,” Kun confirms, “and I will.”

“You’re so cruel, Kun-ge.”

I love you, Kun thinks, and it almost escapes him just as easily, but he keeps it for now, doesn’t want to scare Ten away. He’s content with his feelings, finds comfort in being aware of them. He’ll say it when Ten is ready.

“Only to you,” he replies instead.

Ten laughs. “Yeah, right. I’ve heard of the horrors you bring upon the poor kids when I’m not there to stop you.”

“Like what?” Kun asks, kinda curious despite himself.

“Like washing dishes. Or even,” Ten fakes a shudder, “making their beds in the morning.”

“Are you being disgustingly sappy in there or can I enter?” he hears from outside his room.

“Speak of the devil,” Kun mutters, and then calls out, “You can come in!”

Yangyang saunters in as if he has a purpose besides making Kun’s life miserable.

“Hi Ten,” he says in English, plopping down on Kun’s bed, and Kun turns the screen to him slightly without being asked.

“You were lucky not to come in several minutes later…” Ten says meaningfully and his pixelated eyebrows are making waggling motions again.

“Gross.”

“Ten!”

“I’m joking,” Ten provides. “Maybe. Guess we’ll never know.”

“I do know,” Kun tries to interject, but they’ve already started conversing in English, so he sighs and just sits there with a laptop on his knees. Ten’s hair is quite long again, even though he got a cut just a couple months ago. He looks tanner, and his eyes sparkle while he speaks. There’s this sort of content happiness to him that makes something burst inside of Kun.

“Ugh, Kun-ge is looking like that again, I’d better leave.”

“I’m not looking like anything…” Kun starts but Ten already switches his attention to him, and the softness in his gaze makes Kun want to start spouting stupidly cheesy stuff.

“Right, I’m out. Was nice talking to you, Ten-ge,” Yangyang says, getting up from the bed.

“Same, same.” Ten laughs. “And if you miss me, you don’t have to torture Kun, you can always call me yourself.”

Yangyang flushes. “Bye!” he yells and shuts the door beside himself.

Ten is laughing, delighted and happy, and Kun wishes more than anything he could hear it without the quality being distorted, without audio and video going slightly out of sync, just Ten lying beside him without all this distance between them.

He opens his mouth to say something to this effect, whatever Ten’s reaction will be, but Ten gets there first.

“It’s just a few days more,” he says and bites his lip, “I miss you. Miss all of you.”

“We’ll be here,” Kun reassures him. Inside him, a hard, bitter thing has gone soft and warm. He can be happy for Ten, and also miss him, and wait for his return. He’s good at waiting.

And in the meantime, there’s still songs to finish.

“I know,” Ten says easily, and smiles. “Now tell me about your latest track.”