Actions

Work Header

replay

Summary:

"It looks good," Soonyoung tells him the next day after watching the video. "Is that another—"

"Don't—"

"—song made by your crush?"

Chan pockets his phone, rolling his eyes. "He's not my crush. Stop saying that."

Chan has been dancing to Vernon's tracks for as long as he can remember, but he doesn't have a crush.... Hansol upstairs is another story.

Notes:

this is dedicated to my lovely friend dev for their birthday!!!! i hope you have the loveliest day, and enjoy <3

title taken from replay by shinee.... a song almost as old as dev

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It's another Vernon track. Chan wouldn't say he's obsessed. He's not. Really, he's not. But the music is good. The music is amazing, in fact. When he got the notification of the upload, he'd practically squealed. That's embarrassing to admit, so he won't, but it's true.

See, Chan spent all of last week on Soundcloud, scrolling new releases, playing sample after sample to see if anything stuck.

Nothing had.

And, look, it's not like he has a schedule. Chan uploads when he uploads, inspiration the only driving force behind his dance channel. He gets requests, sure— but his YouTube comments are filtered, the demands for more often going ignored. He still wants to upload, though. He still wants to create.

The new Vernon track is perfect for that.

He's pretty sure he's done a routine to everything the account has uploaded at this point. One song he's even done twice.

He stumbled upon the channel one night when he was half asleep, hunched over the desk of his college dorm, searching for something to push him forward. He'd only uploaded a few videos at that point, his account only garnering a few thousand views, the comments all positive so far. Really, Chan wasn't even sure what he was doing back then. but he knew he was having fun. He knew he wanted to continue.

And, the channel he'd stumbled upon was perfect to help him with that.

The music was unique, some tracks mellow, some more upbeat. Chan had listened to six in a row before he began looking up the name 'Vernon' on social media. There was nothing connected to the producer involved in the tracks, though. The only thing he found was a Soundcloud page, no information available to get in contact available.

Chan opted for Youtube comments.

Comment from Dino: Love this track!!! I'd be interested in doing a dance cover for this piece. Maybe more!! Is that alright? I'd include full credits in the description, and anything else you want me to add :) I just find your music very inspiring, and would love to create something around it. No worries if not!!

He'd shut his laptop shortly after, crawling into bed as the sun began to rise outside. He checked back daily, though.

He probably could have found something else to dance to, but he found himself listening to Vernon's tracks all week, his mind running rampant with ideas. He knew he'd end up in one of the campus dance studios by the weekend, and he was silently praying Vernon would reply by then.

He didn't, though.

Chan ended up choreographing a different piece, phone capturing his movements. He wanted to save for a proper camera, but he touched it up as best he could on the editing software he'd spent a week and a half trying to figure out how to properly use.

He was uploading it when he spotted the awaiting notification.

Reply From Vernon: That would be sick!!! I checked some of your videos, I'd be honoured if you danced to any of my tracks!!! You have my blessing for anything you want!!! Excited to see!!!!!!!!

His heart had practically skipped a beat, his finger already hovering over the profile button. He couldn't decide what he wanted to do next, his mind wandering to when he could next get an empty studio, when he could next record.

The rest was history, as one would say.

Chan uploaded, Vernon commented, and the cycle continued. Chan didn't just dance to Vernon's songs— he wasn't crazy. But he definitely favoured the strangers music. He found himself looping it to try and come up with dances, listening to it on the bus to university, humming it in the shower.

He kept the videos up, too. University ended, but Chan still found time in his work schedule to record whenever Soonyoung let him lock up the studio. There were a lot more viewers now than when he first discovered Vernon's channels. Vernon had a lot more listeners, too.

Chan couldn't help but feel a little giddy whenever he read the comments on new tracks.

Comment from User4832020118: this track is peakkkkkkkkk! can't wait to see if dino dances to this next

A similar comment is on his screen now, staring up at him. The song was only posted an hour ago, and yet someone is already in the comments wondering what Chan will come up with to put onto his dance account. Dancing with Dino; he's not keeping his identity anonymous, but his real name isn't on his account anywhere. The studio he runs with Soonyoung is better off without the occasional odd fan knowing it's location.

The song is similar to some other Vernon pieces, a guitar mingling with a synth, a drum beat pulling the piece together. Chan has often wondered if there are lyrics meant to accompany the tracks, if Vernon thinks of something as he creates his music.

Chan isn't a writer, though. He focuses on memorising the song, closing his eyes as he plots the next dance. He knows what his movements will be, knows how he'll hold himself. The piece is short enough that he's sure it will only take one or two tries to get the footage needed.

"It looks good," Soonyoung tells him the next day after watching the video. "Is that another—"

"Don't—"

"—song made by your crush?"

Chan pockets his phone, rolling his eyes. "He's not my crush. Stop saying that."

Soonyoung gives him a look, but he doesn't say anything further. He shares Chan's video when he posts it, even comments something nice.

It sits next to the comment from Vernon, complimenting how quick he put together another amazing dance.

𝄞

"I got you a croissant."

Chan looks away from his phone. It's a Tuesday morning, the studio stuck in the in between a state of play; there's a class of toddlers ready to show up in Soonyoung's room before ten, and a group of seniors ready to shuffle into Chan's. Minghao is already in the middle of the yummy-mummy yoga rush.

But Jun is here, croissant at the ready. His dance-workout class has been pushed back and hour, and he's clearly making the most of it.

"Thanks," Chan smiles, accepting the bag from the local bakery. "Did you—"

"I bought the new coffee pods, yes," Jun nods, dragging his tote bag off his arm. He drops it onto the table in the corner, rummaging around until he can drag out the box of coffee. "I also bought sugar."

Chan tears off a piece of the croissant. He skipped breakfast, sleeping through his three alarms, almost dropping his phone when he hit the fourth. He's behind schedule today. His morning class— a bunch of three year old's struggling through ballet— had him pinching his nose as the loud piano music echoed his studio walls.

He loves his job. He loves teaching, and meeting people, and watching them improve the same ways he once did, eager to learn.

But on days like today— when his hair is a mess, and his head hurts a little, and he remembers he still needs to go grocery shopping before he can get home— he wonders what it would be like to have a job where you get to just sit down.

Jun has never had a day like this in his life, however. He's practically bubbling as he restocks the kitchen shelves, moving a few mugs around, the clattering noises making Chan cringe. "You know, I saw a dog at the store. So cute. He was ginger, though. Looked a bit like a cat. I almost meowed at him before I remembered where I was."

Chan chews slowly, trying to keep up. "Interesting."

"I saw a butterfly, too."

The food is good, the conversation fine enough to tune out. Talking to Jun is easier when he's slept more— talking to anyone, really.

Soonyoung practically slouches in, taking one of the bakery bags without looking inside. "I got tipped today!"

"By who?"

"One of the lovely mother who said her daughters tap dancing is coming along splendidly!"

"How much?"

"Enough to buy more croissants tomorrow!" Soonyoung cheerily replies, tearing open the bag. The bite he takes is almost half, his chewing loud enough that Chan wants to glare. But Soonyoung leans against the counter, pointing his croissant. "Jihoon has a newbie moving in this week."

Chan almost asks who, but Jun beats him to it, Chan finishing his breakfast in silence.

"I think he's Chan's age. You could make a new friend, Channie," Soonyoung beams.

He doesn't mind being the youngest, but he still grimaces. "I'm fine."

"You don't have enough friends your age, though," Jun tells him, nearing him. He reaches out a hand to caress Chan's arm in a mocking way that has the youngest ducking away from him, ignoring the way his friend laughs. "You're hanging around us hags too much!"

"I'm fine!" He assures again. Chan shouldn't have even come into the break room. He could have checked his YouTube comments in his studio, sat on the bench in the corner. Maybe he could even open his laptop. Maybe he could—

"Well, you have to be nice to him, because Jihoon already invited him to his party this weekend, and you're going!"

Party this weekend. Chan can't even remember the occasion. He's pretty sure it's something music related, but Jihoon didn't explicitly tell him. Soonyoung told him. Ending up at parties in Soonyoung's apartment are practically part of the contract he signed to work here fresh out of college. He sees his coworkers more than anyone else, at this point.

"Awh," Jun coos, "we can watch you try to make a new friend!"

Chan rolls his eyes. "I should be getting back."

"Still a few minutes before the golden girls get here," Soonyoung says.

Chan ignores him, throwing his empty pastry bag away as he leaves the canteen.

Really, he loves them. Minghao, Jun, even Soonyoung… They were upperclassmen to him in college, seeming a little worthy of infatuation when Chan was much younger. When they approached him to hire him when his degree was finished, Chan had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Two years on, he can't imagine himself anywhere else.

That doesn't stop him from ignoring the calls from the pair in the kitchen, their laughter following him back to his room.

"Chan!" He turns back when the door behind him opens, Soonyoung jogging towards him. "Can you lock up tonight?"

"No problem."

"You're a lifesaver. Jihoon's making me dinner."

Chan offers him a small smile. "No problem."

𝄞

Chan stays late a lot. When he first arrived, he'd been trying to scope out Soonyoung's schedule, wondering how long he could get away with staying before the older had to lock up. Eventually, Soonyoung noticed, and slipped him his own key, along with the alarm code.

Sometimes Jihoon stays late, meaning Chan just has to lock up the back office, the building left up to the studio above. But since Soonyoung started dragging him home early to have 'domestic time', Chan finds himself in charge.

Today, however, he figures he should check. Jun had mentioned it when Chan was making his afternoon coffee, casually saying he saw Jihoon's newbie carrying a box upstairs. He could still be here.

Chan flicks off the lights in his studio, collecting his bag before he jogs up the small staircase. The space upstairs is occupied by two studios, one including a large booth for recording. Chan's been inside it a few times, smalltalk with Jihoon leading him to linger as the man played pieces for him, asking his input occasionally.

The other remains a mystery, however.

He raises his fist to the door, knocking as politely as possible. He wonders if anyone is inside— if they are, can they even hear him. He should probably just open the door himself, should probably just barge in, ask his question, and leave. He should have an early night, he should—

The door jumps open under his raised fist, second knock hanging in the air. The boy on the other side is taller than him, beanie covering his head, eyes a little wide as he looks down at Chan.

"Hi," Chan settles on, offering his politest smile. He doesn't really want to get off on the wrong foot with the stranger, especially if he has to see him at Soonyoung and Jihoon's party this weekend.

But the stranger doesn't really seem to reciprocate his polite smile. Instead, the taller is opening and shutting his mouth, looking a little surprised.

"I'm from downstairs," Chan quickly explains. Of course, knocking on his door after usual working hours could be a little startling. How is someone who started today to know anyone else here, let alone the comings and goings of people like Chan. "I'm one of the teachers. My name is Chan."

He holds his hand out, the silence tight before the boy remembers his manners and gives it a shake. "Hansol."

"Nice to meet you," Chan replies. "I was just checking if anyone was up here. I have to lock up tonight. But I'm sure Jihoon gave you keys, so you—"

"No," Hansol interrupts, somewhat sheepishly. "He said he's getting them this week, but I arrived sort of earlier than expected."

"Ah."

"Let me turn off my computer, sorry! I don't want to keep you." He's back in the room before he can even finish his sentence, door swinging shut behind him. Chan blinks. He isn't sure what to make of the mechanical way Hansol speaks, or the way he rushes off. He debates going downstairs, waiting there.

But Hansol is back before he can even finish the thought, tugging a hoodie over his t-shirt. "Sorry about that."

"You're all good," Chan assures, watching how he tugs the hoodie down, pulling the door shut behind him. "You like the space?"

"It's crazy," Hansol gushes, following him down the stairs. "I've been using my Macbook to produce for the past few years. This is, like, the biggest upgrade imaginable."

"What type of stuff do you do?"

Hansol pauses as they reach the ground floor, almost looking nervous under Chan's gaze. "Just… A bit of everything, I guess."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

Chan raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. He digs into his pocket for the keys, opening the front door for Hansol.

"So, you teach?"

"Yeah."

"That's so cool," he breathes, as if he's relieved in some way. "Dancing is so… Cool."

Chan almost laughs. It sounds like Hansol's first day speaking to someone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods as he punches the alarm code. "Yeah, it's pretty cool."

"You any good?"

Chan glances at him, twisting the key in the lock. "I can hold my own."

Hansol nods back, almost seeming amused. "I see."

"Well," Chan says, re-pocketing the keys. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Sounds good."

Hansol walks the opposite direction to him, head down as he saunters. Chan watches for a moment before he turns the other way, beginning his journey home. Same age as Chan, he considers, but so different. He's not sure what to make of the guy from upstairs. Conversation wasn't exactly easy between them.

He's practically filled with dread over the idea of Jihoon's party, but there are days to work out an excuse to get out of that, he supposes. He'll manage somehow.

𝄞

"No."

"Seungkwan, please."

"No."

"Seungkwan."

"No."

"Seungkwan…"

"No."

"C'mon, Seungkwan. Just lie! Or something! Please!"

"No."

Chan groans loudly, the sound echoing down the phone. "I never ask you for anything ever!"

"Yes you do! All the time!"

"I need a reason not to go. I don't want to get stuck making small-talk all night, and I hate being around Seokmin and Mingyu at the moment. They're disgusting."

"They're in love."

"I hate them."

His friend chuckles. He's at work on the other side of the city, using his lunch break to hear Chan's pleas to get him out of Jihoon's party. He's had all week to try and come up with something, but this is his last resort. Seungkwan is his last resort.

Chan groans again. "I don't want to go!"

"Be a man, and tell them yourself! I'm not lying to get you out of this! I have a date tomorrow."

"You're the worst."

"I'm hanging up now," Seungkwan coos. "Enjoy tomorrow."

"I hate you."

"Love you too!"

Chan stares at his phone for a few minutes after Seungkwan hangs up, running through his list of excuses again. The stomach flu? A cold? He could lie about his parents coming to town? He could—

"Channie!" He jumps at Soonyoung's voice, glancing over his shoulder at the door. His friend has his usual dopey grin on his face, head tilted. "You're still coming tomorrow, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Chan replies, like an idiot.

𝄞

The thing is, he doesn't really hate parties that much. He doesn't even hate parties at Soonyoung's. His apartment is nice, and it fits everyone. Jihoon's buddies, Wonwoo and Seungcheol, always end up at events like these, their boyfriends by their side. Usually, Seungkwan can mingle his way through the crowd, sometimes dragging Seokmin and Mingyu along. Jun and Minghao usually end up leaving early, but it never feels overcrowded with all of them packed into the space.

Today it does, though.

Chan can feel Jun's eyes on him, smile on his face. Hansol's across the room, dragged into a conversation with Wonwoo's boyfriend Joshua, American accents swapping back and forth. "He's cute, right!"

"Does everyone think I should date him because he's my age? Should I date Seungkwan?"

"Not everyone," Jun shrugs. "I'm just bored. Minghao's talking to Jeonghan. You're my entertainment for the evening."

Chan rolls his eyes. "Talk to someone else."

"I don't think you could date Seungkwan, you'd rage bait each other to death."

That's probably true, but he doesn't want to admit it. He shakes his head instead, glancing at his beer. "I think you're thinking too much about my love life for your own good. Why don't you label your relationship with Minghao, and then start butting your nose into other people's business."

Jun throws an arm around his shoulders, dragging him close to knock their heads together. "I don't need to call him my boyfriend when we're soulmates. You're being old-fashioned."

Chan easily squirms away. "Right. Very happy for you."

"You should be! I'm very happy! You could be too, if you—"

It's surprisingly easy to walk away, trying to find a different friend to inflict himself on for the night. Seokmin and Mingyu are the closest, sadly.

"Ahhhhhh, Channie, Channie, Channie," Seokmin coos when he gets close enough. "You look healthy."

"Thanks."

"And strong!" Mingyu adds, beaming. "You work out recently?"

"Most days," Chan shrugs.

"Did you meet Jihoon's new friend? He's your age!"

It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes at Seokmin's question. "Yeah, we met at work."

"Ahhhh," his friend sounds again, pinching his cheek. "You're friends?"

"Not yet."

"But you will be," Mingyu orders. "You need more young people to talk to!"

"You're, like, two years older than me!"

"I'm ancient, I know," he sighs. "And, Seokmin's even older. You know, he's beginning to get grey hairs!"

"That's not true!"

"Yeah, it is, I saw one the other day!"

"No, you didn't. You're lying," Seokmin practically whines, the hand not holding his drink flying to his hair, as if he'll be able to feel the strand of a different colour. "It's all the one colour."

"Keep telling yourself that!"

"You're not funny!"

"Oh, yeah, well—"

Chan tunes them out. They've only been together a few months, but their honeymoon phase has been laced with the bickering foreplay they perfected before they ever admitted any real feelings. Chan gets a bit sick of it.

It's how he finds himself in the kitchen, digging a new beer out of the fridge. He's trying his best to open it when Hansol appears, silently holding out a bottle opener that Chan probably should have spotted before. "Thanks."

"No problem," Hansol muses back, opening a can of coke for himself.

"You don't drink?"

"Sometimes," he shrugs. "Sometimes it makes me sleepy, though. Didn't want to come across badly to all of Jihoon's friends."

Like the other night, Chan thinks.

"No need to try impress anyone here," Chan assures him, glancing back at the living room. "They're not as cool as you probably think."

"I'm beginning to learn that…" He admits, small smile on his face. Chan can't help but return it, looking at him properly.

He's not in his beanie today. Instead, his hair is a mess of shaggy brown and blonde strands cut into somewhat of a mullet, framing his face nicely. He looks good up close, eyes somewhat sparkly in the kitchen light, lips still smiling.

"Everyone keeps saying we're almost the same age."

"I've been hearing that," Chan nods. "You're—"

"Twenty six."

"I'm still the youngest, then," he sighs. "Twenty five."

"Close enough. They all seem like they really want you to know people your own age."

"They worry. I don't know why, I'm fine."

Hansol nods back, taking a sip of his drink. "Do they do a lot of things like this?"

"Group dinners, parties, club nights," Chan lists. "They're all attached at the hip."

"Nice."

"Busy," Chan corrects. "They'll keep inviting you, too, now. And, if you don't go, they basically require a doctors note. I skipped a movie night once, and Soonyoung showed up at my house."

Hansol chuckles, shrugging. "It doesn't sound too bad. I spent the past two years in New York with some family, so it's nice to come back, and meet people."

New York. Explains his conversation with Joshua, he thinks. "How come you're back?"

Hansol shrugs again. "Thought it was time. I wasn't producing as much in New York. I needed a change of scenery."

"I get that," Chan says, because he does. He almost burnt himself out in his third year of college, so many hours spent in the same studio driving him a little insane. It took going to Soonyoung, and asking him for a change of pace to revive his inspiration, his next video pleasing him much more than anything else he had worked on for the past few months.

They're both quiet for a moment, the chatter from the living room spilling over until Hansol clears his throat, pointing at Chan. "I like your t-shirt. It's a great movie."

Chan glances down at himself. He'd grabbed the first t-shirt he saw, a random cartoon character sewn into the breast pocket. He didn't even know there was a movie, his mouth opening and closing before he nods. "Thanks."

"You like it?"

He can't think of a creative way to lie, so he awkwardly shrugs. "I don't even know what movie this is from."

Hansol looks surprised, eyebrows raising. "Seriously?" He asks,pointing at the small flame with eyes on Chan's shirt. "You've never seen Howl's Moving Castle?"

Chan shakes his head, almost laughing at the way Hansol makes guffaws at him. "I don't really watch a lot of movies."

"This is peak, though. The score is amazing. The animation… I mean, it's a Ghibli film, so of course, but—" Hansol cuts himself off, shaking his head. "How haven't you seen it?!"

He can't help but laugh a little, shrugging behind his sip of beer. "I just saw the shirt, and thought it was nice."

"You need to watch it," Hansol all but orders. "I'm serious."

"I'll look into it," Chan assures.

"You will?"

"Promise."

Hansol grins at him in a way that has Chan trying to make a mental note of it. He's cute, he thinks, still trying to repeat the name of the movie so he doesn't forget it. Maybe they can be friends.

𝄞

"So, it wasn't bad."

"It wasn't the worst."

"And, you had fun."

"It wasn't the worst."

"And, you were being over dramatic!"

Chan rolls his eyes. He's in his bed, the Sunday afternoon sun streaming through his window. He should be out in it, he thinks. But he's lying down, arms behind his head, getting told off by Seungkwan. "I think I was being just dramatic enough."

His friend hums down the phone, as if unsure. "You were so whiny about it. I knew you'd have fun!"

"It was fine. Hannie was sad you couldn't make it."

"Well, I was having a very lovely evening," he replies, smile in his tone. "Finally got to try that Italian place we saw the other week. You know the one with the flags over the door?"

"Was it good?"

"They did this really good tiramisu. Perfect temperature."

Chan had a cheese toastie when he arrived home last night, standing over his stove in a half-asleep state, brushing crumbs into the sink before he sank into bed. Tiramisu sounds a lot better. "I'll have to check it out."

"Did I miss anything else at the party?" Seungkwan presses. He hates missing out on things even if it is for a date.

"I talked to the new guy from the studio for a while. He's kinda nice."

"Hansol? Did you think he was kinda nice, or kinda nice?"

Chan rolls his eyes, trying to remember when Seungkwan would have talked to Soonyoung about his boyfriend's new hire. "Nice."

Seungkwan hums. "I see."

𝄞

The drum sample is louder than Chan is used to. He keeps his head down as he listens, trying to figure out if it actually sounds good. He's sure there's something missing, strings or lyrics or something. But he keeps listening, adjusting his headphones a little.

He's danced to this persons tracks before, but their past eight tracks have been hit or miss for him. The notifications of uploads have been hitting his inbox week by week, some getting ignored altogether as Chan searched for something better.

He skips past the song after a minute. He'll find something else. He'll probably end up on the depths of YouTube before bed, skipping through snippets for hours until he passes out. He'll probably—

The tap on his shoulder makes him jolt, his head twisting around to look up. Hansol is towering over him, apologetic look on his face. "Sorry," he says as Chan pulls his headphones off. "I didn't wanna startle you."

"It's okay!" He assures, making no move to get up. His legs are stiff from a day full of classes, and although he usually stays late, he's planning on leaving in a few minutes.

Hansol doesn't move to sit down either, though. He has his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and he almost looks shy as he fidgets from foot to foot. "I was just going to see if you were free tomorrow night?"

Chan's mind blanks for a moment, mouth dry. "Tomorrow night?"

"I just saw that the cinema down the road is playing Howl's Moving Castle, and I wanted to see if you were interested in going to see it? With me?"

The cinema. He's just being friendly, Chan realises, nodding dumbly. "Yeah, that'd be fun."

He can see the moment Hansol's shoulders relax, as if he was worried Chan would say no. "Great. Good. Tomorrow, then? It's on at six. Do you have classes before that, or are you—"

"My last class ends at five thirty."

Hansol nods quickly, smiling a little. "Great. I'll be here, then. We can walk together."

"Great," Chan nods back, still looking up.

Hansol hovers for a moment, looking a little unsure. But then he's looking around the studio, wonder in his expression. "So, this is all yours?"

Chan glances around too. The mirrors go from the floor to ceiling, the wooden floor empty to give students space. The speaker in the corner has his old iPod hooked up, and there's a camera in the cupboard by the door. It's not all that impressive, though. "All mine," he confirms, trying not to sound boring.

"You been dancing long?"

"My whole life."

"Wow," Hansol nods, looking down at him. "That's very cool."

He's very awkward, Chan notes. Chan wonders if it's the effects of being in New York for so long, or if Hansol is always just like this. Maybe he's just bad at talking to people. Maybe he just doesn't really like Chan.

But that wouldn't make much sense considering he's only here to ask Chan if he wants to go see a movie with him.

"Do you dance?"

Hansol considers the question, rocking on his heels. "Yeah a bit. I mean, not much. But I did a few classes when I was a kid, and when I'm working on a track I like to imagine… Well, I like to think of how it would be recieved by dancers."

"I'd love to hear your music someday."

Hansol doesn't say anything, mouth forming a little 'o' shape before nodding slower than before. "Yeah… Yeah, I could show you it someday."

He seems hesitant about the whole thing, but Chan doesn't push. He just smiles, waiting for Hansol to return the action. It takes a moment, but he does before glancing over his shoulder.

"I'll let you get back to your stuff.. anyway…" He trails off, gesturing to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, though."

"You know where to find me," Chan nods, mentally kicking himself for sounding like a cartoon character for the phrase.

Hansol leaves quietly, still looking around before he slips out the door. Chan stares at the spot he stood for a moment before returning to his phone, trying to focus on finding his next track again.

𝄞

Chan changes in the dressing rooms usually used for students, his loose sweatpants getting changed for jeans, his oversized t-shirt getting swapped for something cleaner. He checks himself in the mirror three or four times before reminding himself he's going to sit in a dark room for two hours, not parade around in front of people.

Hansol's in his studio when he gets back, hands in his pockets, small smile on his face again. "Hey."

"Hey," Chan returns.

They leave without locking up. Hansol assures Chan that Jihoon is upstairs, Chan sure that Soonyoung's also knocking around. It's only a ten minute walk, but Chan wonders if he should have brought his hoodie, wonders if they're going to chat, wonders—

"Do you watch movies… Usually?" Hansol asks, filling the silence between them. Chan looks over at him, eyebrows raising a little incredulously. Hansol swallows before he laughs quietly. "Sorry, that's a stupid question."

"It's not," Chan assures, although it might be. A bit. "I watch a few. I should watch more, probably. I'm just at the studio so much, and then trying to find new tracks to work on, and then— I just get a bit caught up with everything else."

"I get it. Life gets busy. I try to watch a lot of films, though. I think they're a good place to draw inspiration from. Film scores are really good places to find a new way to tie my music together."

He sounds so passionate about it that Chan's breath almost hitches in his throat. Hansol can be quite expressive when he's not staring into Chan's soul in a way that makes him question his sanity, or hopping from foot to foot.

"I mean Ghibli films, like this, they're so good… The Totoro score is incredible. And there's a piano piece in this film that's just… I don't know, it's magic. It really inspired me. I spent a weekend learning it when I was a kid, just playing over and over again until I had it down. It was just so—" He cuts himself off, footsteps slowing before he picks up the pace again, chuckling quietly. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

Chan flushes involuntarily. "You don't have to apologise. I'm interested."

Hansol glances at him, eyebrows raised, as if he can't believe Chan would care about something like this. "You are?"

"I might not watch a lot of films, but I listen to a lot of music. A ton, really," he shrugs. "I have a channel on YouTube. Just a small hobby, but I post my videos of dances on there, and I have to spend a lot of time finding pieces."

Hansol looks at him as if he's studying, footsteps a little slow again. "That's cool."

Chan feels a little shy under his gaze, but he nods along, keeping his eyes on his trainers as they near the cinema.

Hansol booked their tickets in advance, apparently, flashing his phone for the usher in the lobby on their way in. He also buys popcorn without Chan getting the chance to protest, handing it to him on their way into the screen.

"How much do I owe you?" He asks when they're settled.

"Just appreciating the film is payment enough," Hansol assured, eyes already on the ads playing onscreen.

The popcorn is salty, and the lights go down a second after his first bite, the screen lighting up blue to tell him he's seeing a Studio Ghibli production.

Chan isn't sure what he expects. He hasn't been to the actual cinema in a while, the last film he saw not even registering in his mind when he thinks about it. He's pretty sure, in fact, that he fell asleep last time.

Not tonight, though. Tonight he watches in awe as animation dances across the screen, the music just as magical as Hansol described. He wonders, mid-way through, if he should be passing some sort of comment to Hansol about how much he's enjoying the film. But when he glances over, Hansol is entirely absorbed in the film, eyes wide as he reads the subtitles on the bottom of his screen.

"Are you hungry?" Is Hansol's first question as the lights come up, eyebrows raising. His voice is slightly deeper than usual from disuse, but Chan finds himself nodding. "Let's get some food."

They end up in a pizza place across the road, a margarita between them, lemonade alongside. Chan's mid bite when Hansol finally asks what he thinks.

"It was amazing," he honestly replies. "I'm surprised I never saw it when I was a little kid."

"It's great, right?" Hansol asks, picking his own slice up. "It's one of my favourites."

Chan really didn't realise how hungry he was, so he listens as Hansol dives into a story about watching it on loop one summer with his sister, explaining how it was their rainy day movie when the summer storms hit.

Hansol has a way of talking that keeps Chan engaged. When he talks about films, and his music, he's somewhat magnetic. Chan almost feels the anticipation building as he waits for Hansol's next story of being at the cinema.

"New York is cool for it, y'know? There are midnight screenings sometimes, and there's always some indie cinema in Brooklyn showing something so obscure that you can't even find the cast list on google. I used to just watch whatever was on when my classes ended."

"How come you're not working in film now, then?"

Hansol swipes his thumb against the corner of his mouth, catching a spot of tomato sauce. "Scoring for movies is a hard thing to get into. I've submitted for a few small directors, but I'm trying to build a portfolio at the moment. I usually just create things I like, and see where I can get the music to go."

Chan watches him gulp down a mouthful of water, picking up another slice. His eyebrow raises ever so slightly, head tilting. "You get it, though, right? You do YouTube."

Chan flushes a little. "Yeah, nothing huge. Just a few videos."

Hansol stares across the table at him, eyebrows raising a little further, silently urging him on.

"I want to choreograph for music videos in the future. Groups, maybe. I like teaching, but I can't see myself doing it forever… The videos were just sort of— what'd you call it? Portfolio, I guess."

"Do you ever submit things?"

Chan swallows his bite, shrugging. "I don't think anything is good enough, yet. I need to work on some of my footwork."

"You're great, though," Hansol insists. Chan almost asks how Hansol would even know, but the older is pointing his slice across the table at him. "It's cool that you get to do what you love, though. Even if teaching isn't the end goal, it's cool that you've found yourself somewhere like the studio."

He can't help but agree. He's had many moments of clarity over the years, days spent waking up with excitement in his gut, hours spent feeling accomplished as students perfect moves he took hours to teach them. Some of his friends from college have ended up doom-posting on their 'close friends' stories about the woes of trying to find a career.

"You feel the same?"

Hansol nods quickly. "Big time. I was worried I'd get home and not know what to do, but I think I'm in the perfect place. There's just… I feel like I have a real connection to the studio."

Chan almost blushes, although he's unsure why. "I get what you mean."

Hansol smiles at him, the thought from the party smacking him in the face again; he really is cute.

𝄞

Vernon: trying some new stuff. hope u guys like it.

Chan's laptop is open on his kitchen counter, the soft piano track filtering out of his speakers. He's had the new Vernon upload on loop since he woke up with the notification in his inbox. It's accompanying him through his breakfast.

It's a Saturday. No classes. No parties. No reason to even leave his flat.

But the song— beautifully produced, and softer than Vernon's usual stuff— has him itching. He's already, mentally, going over a routine for it. The middle section is tripping him up, though. He can't picture what to do with it.

It's how he ends up showered, dressed, and on the subway an hour later, song still looped. He's sure the song is burned into his mind by the time he reaches his station but the middle is still plaguing him as he pulls his keys from his pocket to unlock the studio door.

It's already unlocked, though.

He knows it's not Soonyoung or Jihoon. They're on a visit to Jihoon's parents house for an anniversary or birthday or something. Chan was only half-listening when Soonyoung told him.

It must be Hansol, he figures, letting himself in.

He knocks as loud as he can, hoping Hansol doesn't have headphones on. The door to his studio swings open a second later, Hansol looking at him with wider eyes than usual. "Oh, it's you."

Chan chuckles at the relief in his voice. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't know anyone else would be in today. I'm just here to work on a piece. Thought I'd let you know in case you heard noises and thought there was a break-in, or something."

"No problem," he nods back. "I'll let you know if I'm leaving in case you need to lock up."

Chan nods, already turning on his heel. He'd be better at small-talk if his mind wasn't spinning through ideas still.

He spends a long time stretching, listening to his body until he feels ready to try dancing. He keeps his headphones on, keeping the music close as he moves. The chords almost feel new in a setting like this. He feels like he's listening to the song for the first time again, the noise crisp against his ears.

When Chan started dancing as a child, he worried he'd have to give up. The thought always lingered in the back of his mind, the idea of a 'normal job' getting taught to him in school every time he announced his dream of dancing to a new teacher. Even as a teenager, as he prioritised dancing over revising, he worried it would all be in vain.

It's days like today he feels reassured. He's practically giddy for his 12 year old self, the hope he had, the dreams he's fulfilling.

He's not sure how long he's there, throwing his body around, restarting Vernon's new song over and over again, trying to get perfect his routine. It must be a while, he thinks, because Hansol ends up in the corner of the room, arms crossed.

"I knocked," he says when Chan pulls his headphones off his head. "You didn't hear, clearly."

"Sorry, I was trying to—"

"Don't apologise. You're amazing to watch perform, even if I can't hear the music."

Chan can't work out if the flush that rises in his chest is from the compliment or his non-stop work. Either way, he's red in the face as he crosses the room. "What time is it?"

"Almost six."

His eyes widen. He's been here for hours, then. It's almost embarrassing how long he's been stepping over himself, never making it as far as reaching for his camera to actually record. He'll have to—

"I was just going to pick up some Chinese food," Hansol explains, nodding towards the door. "I'll bring it back. I was just gonna check if you want anything?"

Chinese food sounds good. In fact, it stirs a rumble from his stomach that makes it impossible to say no. "Yeah, that'd be good. I can come with you to grab it, or—"

"No, stay, it's okay! I need to stretch my legs for a bit," he smiles.

He's gone a moment later, Chan's order typed into his notes app, the door swinging shut with a thud.

Chan waits a few moments before he realises this is probably his best chance to actually record. It usually takes a few attempts, but Chan is sure it won't take as long tonight. He'll be done by the time Hansol comes back, finished in time for dinner.

He sets up quickly, finding his usual spot on the tiny 'X' of tape he laid down his first week here. When the music starts up his body kicks into action, each movement carefully practised over his long afternoon.

He runs the routine five times to be sure, spending the next five minutes starting to watch them back, studying each of his movements. He's mostly in time, he thinks. Some clips are better than others, and he's sure he'll have to watch them on his laptop rather than his small screen, but he's also sure he's got it. He's sure it's finished.

He hears Hansol knocking this time, his head turning just in time for the older to poke around the door, bag in hand. "Got it."

They end up in the small kitchen, boxes of noodles and chicken between them on the table in the corner. It's almost a little entertaining to watch Hansol inhale his food, chopsticks working double time as he digs into the noodles between every breath.

"You worked up an appetite, then?"

Hansol looks caught for a moment, noodles still hanging from his mouth. He's quick to shovel them in, chewing as quickly as possible before swallowing harshly. "I lost track of time. I was trying to test a new way of mixing vocals"

"Ah."

"I figured it out, but, yeah, lot of hours without looking at the time."

Chan gets that. It's the exact same as his situation, he supposes. He's just aware he'll choke if he tries to eat as quickly as Hansol is. "It's good."

"Right? I went last week, too. They've got a cat sleeping outside. Really cute."

Chan smiles at the mental picture of Hansol crouching down to play with a cat. There's something horribly endearing about it. About him. He's been doing his best to ignore it, but he can't help but find thoughts of Hansol filtering into his mind when they're apart.

It's small things, really. He walked past their pizza place the other week, he heard Jun mention an animated movie he saw recently, he saw a guy in a beanie… It's getting a little ridiculous, really, but Chan can't help but think of him.

There's just something about Hansol. He's familiar in a way that Chan finds himself craving. It's not a crush. Not really. He's aware Hansol's attractive… Aware of the way his smile makes Chan's heart beat a little faster, aware of the way his eyebrows raise endear him. But it's not a crush. He's sure of it.

"Chan?"

Hansol's voice startles him. He wonders how long he's been staring, his face flushing a colour he's sure is close to crimson, mouth going dry as he glances down at his dinner again. "Sorry I— What were you saying?"

"Just wondering what you were working on all afternoon."

Chan swallows a mouthful of food, trying to will the colour in his cheeks to return to a normal shade. "I heard a new track this morning. It really inspired me."

"Oh?" Hansol echoes, immediately interested.

"I just follow this guy, and he posted something new today. It was really—" Chan cuts himself off, waving a hand. "I don't even know how to describe it. The song was just really… I just loved it."

Hansol looks curious, but he doesn't ask to hear the song, which surprises Chan a little. But Chan also doesn't offer it up. He just pushes his empty box away, too. "I'm finished now, though. Can I hear what you were working on?"

"Me?"

"It's only fair! You said you saw me dancing," he defends.

Hansol hums quietly, considering him. "Fine," he nods, getting up. He throws their take-out boxes in the bin in the corner, nodding towards the door until Chan is scrambling from his seat, curiosity biting at him.

The studio is more crowded than Chan expects. There are large speakers, a desk with a Mac, and a mixing deck full of equipment with a keyboard hat has his eyes widening a little. There are also shelves full of CD's, a few vinyl, and a small collection of books. The space looks somewhat cosy considering how recently Hansol started renting, a small sticker on the desk reading Hansol V. Chwe with a little cartoon of the producer beside it.

"It's a mess, sorry," Hansol mutters as the door shuts behind them. "The couch is clear, though."

Chan takes a seat on the edge of the small couch in the corner, nervous ball in his gut. Maybe it was a mistake coming up here. Maybe Hansol's really shit. Chan isn't sure he'll be able to lie under pressure, Hansol's lovely eyes looking at him, waiting for a compliment.

"It's in the early stages," Hansol defends quietly, moving the mouse on his desk until his Mac springs to life. His chair is creaking as he drags it between his two desks, fiddling with a few things before music finally springs through the speakers.

Chan almost breathes a sigh of relief as a beat picks up, the sound of quiet drums dancing between the strong synths that feel somewhat familiar in a way he can't really place. It's good, though. He can tell there's work to be done on it, but Chan can already tell the song is good.

Chan smiles as it comes to a close, teetering off into nothing, clearly unfinished. He can see Hansol's fingers twitching on his lap, the urge to squirm under Chan's gaze clearly somewhere inside of him. "What did you think?"

"It's really good," he assures. "I like it a lot. You said it's different to your other stuff?"

Hansol nods quickly, tapping the space bar of his keyboard to stop the song from playing again. "Yeah, I usually focus on more upbeat pieces, but I'm trying to branch out. I was thinking about our conversation the other day about scoring, and I really think I should look back into submitting for more… I think I should really try to build a better catalogue to show possible directors."

He says everything matter-of-factly, his decision clearly already made. His eyes say another thing, though. He still looks nervous. His hands are still now, but Chan is sure he can see a slight tremor in his demeanour.

"Well, I'm not an expert…" Chan leads off, trying to find the words. "It's really good, though. I really like it."

He mentally cringes, sure his words aren't very promising. But Hansol smiles a little brighter, head tilting. "Thank you."

"Can you show me some of your other stuff?"

They end up in Hansol's studio for an hour more, the older playing samples for Chan, showing him how his mixing board works. The experience makes Chan feel somewhat giddy, but he still ends up yawning before he has to excuse himself to go home.

They lock up together, Hansol leaning against the building as Chan twists the key for them.

"They're playing another Ghibli film this week," Hansol mutters as Chan steps back. "Kiki's Delivery Service. It's about a girl who flies."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you inviting me?"

Hansol looks a little shy for a moment but then he nods. "It's not as good as Howl, but it's a fun movie."

Chan nods slowly. "I'll pay this time, though. No arguments."

He's sure he'll argue, but Hansol's face only screws up for a moment before he nods in defeat, stepping away.

Dino: Trying something new for the new @Vernon track. I love this piece!! Addictive!!

𝄞

Reply from Vernon: this is so fire. i'm so glad you liked the piece. killed it as always !!!

Chan smiles at the comment, heat on his neck. It's not unusual— he usually gets a little giddy about replies from Vernon. But it feels so earned today, his hours of dancing over the weekend behind him.

"You're blushing."

Chan ignores him, focusing on liking the comment, already mentally running through more compliments he can throw his way in the replies.

"You guys could edate!"

This does get him to look up. "What?"

Jun shrugs across from him, iced coffee in hand. "You could edate. Edating is all the rage these days. Lots of people your age are doing it."

"I don't—" Chan cuts himself off. It's his fault for deciding to eat his lunch in the kitchen. He should have stayed in his studio. Or he should have gone up to Hansol's studio; the older made a point of saying he's welcome anytime the other day. But he's here, getting ridiculed by his friends. "I'm not going to date him."

"Ah," Jun nods sagely. "So, he's ugly?"

"I don't know what he looks like."

He should be finding ways to escape, but he's trapped under Jun's contemplative gaze now. "Wow… You're in love with a mystery… That's like something out of a book."

"I'm not in love with him!"

"Are we talking about Vernon?" Soonyoung calls, door swinging shut behind him. He's practically giddy as he swings open the fridge, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Did something romantic happen with you two?"

"No!" Chan huffs. "I didn't even mention him!"

"You didn't need to. Who else would have you blushing?"

The question just makes his cheeks flush again. Who else? Hansol's name pops into his head like a little lightning bolt. "I have a life outside of you guys, and him," he settles on, trying to ignore the way his friends both roll their eyes.

"You could edate!" Soonyoung excitedly says, straightening up.

"Do you guys just think—"

"I said that!" Jun beams, pointing at him.

Chan rolls his eyes, doing his best to tune them both out again.

𝄞

"So, do you only watch kids movies?"

Hansol raises an eyebrow, fork paused mid-air. They're at a bar, chicken and fries in baskets between them, pints of whatever beer they had on draught beside them. "No, I watch… Everything."

"Everything?"

"Well, all genres, I guess."

Chan hums. "I feel like being friends with you means getting a movie education, no matter what."

Hansol raises his fork in defence, amusement playing on his features. "I just think there are some films everyone should see. Like Interstellar, or In the Mood for Love, or Shark Tale."

"Hey, I know that one. That's another kids movie!"

"Some kids movies are good! Scorsese is in that one," he argues.

Chan can't help but laugh, shaking his head. He could get used to this, he thinks. Sure, they've only done this twice, but there's something nice about the routine of finishing work, relaxing in the cinema for a few hours, and sharing a meal. "What's on next week?"

Hansol raises an eyebrow like he didn't expect the question. "I think they're showing Ponyo."

"Are we going?"

He smiles as he shrugs. "We could."

Chan picks at his dinner. "I'm just enjoying the movie education."

"You are?"

"Yeah. I think it's good to see new stuff. I'm in the studio so much, and when I'm home I just never think to put on anything I haven't seen before. I like this," he shrugs. "And, it's fun hanging out with you. It feels like we've been friends for ages instead of a few weeks."

Hansol doesn't say anything for a moment. He just stares across the table at Chan, small smile on his face. "I like it, too. Hanging out with you, I mean. You're… Cool."

"Cool?" Chan laughs.

Hansol squirms. "Yeah, you're not what I expected, I guess. In a good way."

He wants to ask what he means by that, but Hansol is pointing at their almost empty glasses, eyebrows raising. "Please," Chan nods before the other disappears to the bar again.

𝄞

Seungkwan pokes his head over his shoulder, pointing at Chan's screen. "See, the way you did that was very smooth."

"Thanks."

"And, the way you—" Seungkwan waves a hand, searching for the word. "I like this spin. Very… Not ballet, but classic, you know?"

Chan knows. He's the one who came up with it, mentally running as many speeds as possible, practising every option before finally landing on one. It's still nice to hear his friend point it out, though.

Seungkwan has a habit of this. He often spends weekends on Chan's couch, or in Chan's kitchen, bustling around like he did when they were at college, pointing out things he likes and dislikes about the way Chan is living. It's comforting, in a way.

He also takes the time to catch-up on Chan's stuff when they're together, insisting he's better at feedback in person.

"The track is good."

"Right?" Chan beams. The other thing he loves is that Seungkwan, unlike his friends from work, never suggests the possibility of him being in love with the faceless producer. "Great to move to."

"What did Hansol say about it?"

The question makes him pause, straightening up on the couch beside him. "Hansol?"

He'd mentioned it on the phone the other day, telling Seungkwan he was too busy to hang out because he was on his way home from the cinema with Hansol, the beer in his system making him practically giggle the other's name.

"Yeah, Hansol?" Seungkwan echoes, as if Chan is stupid. "He's always looking forward to your feedback. Must be good to hear it in person now."

The sentence doesn't really make sense to him. He wonders, maybe, if he is stupid, head tilting as he looks at his friend. "In person?"

Seungkwan shrugs. "I just mean outside of YouTube. I know you're still—" He clicks off the videos, swiping to the pinned comments, hovering his thumb over them. "—Communicating here, but it must be cool working under the same roof."

"The same roof…?"

Seungkwan looks at him now, eyebrows raising before his mouth falls into an 'o'. "He didn't tell you yet?"

"Tell me what?" Chan asks, although he has a sneaking suspicion he knows now.

"We went to high school together," Seungkwan confesses. "He's been producing under the name Vernon since we were teenagers. I thought you knew…"

Hansol is Vernon.

The idea makes his stomach flip, his palms already beginning to sweat. He's been crushing on the same person, online and off. God, that's embarrassing.

"He's—" Chan cuts himself off, swallowing.

"I thought you knew!" Seungkwan defends. "You never talk about him, but I figured you guys were friends in some way, y'know? Like Instagram or something! I thought you were the reason Hansollie started renting the space upstairs."

His stomach sinks. Hansol knew who he was this whole time and never said anything. What did that mean? Chan was sure they were friends, but this…. The sinking feeling in his stomach won't go away.

"Chan?"

"I didn't know."

Seungkwan is quiet for a moment, handing his phone back to Chan. The comment is still pulled up. There are a lot like them, all scattered over his profile, the top reply on everything he's posted. Even songs Vernon didn't produce have a comment from him, an encouraging message from the faceless producer who has put a disclaimer in every comment that he's not an expert, but Chan is impressive nonetheless.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 5?" Seungkwan replies, confused at the conversation shift.

"I'm going to go out," Chan shrugs, pushing himself off the couch.

"What— We were meant to have dinner together, and—"

"I want to talk to him."

Seungkwan looks like he wants to argue but Chan is already grabbing his wallet and keys from his kitchen counter, pulling his coat off the hook by the door.

"Will you let yourself out?"

"Are you mad at him?" Seungkwan asks, getting up.

He's not sure he is or not until he finds himself shaking his head, body acting before his mind can. "No, I just— I want to talk to him."

"I'll text you his address in case he's not at the studio," Seungkwan promises.

𝄞

The building is unlocked when he gets there, the front door opening at the lightest push from him. He feels like his feet are moving at their own accord, his footsteps quiet as he jogs upstairs, eyes narrowing towards Hansol's door.

He knocks as loudly as possible, stepping back to wait until Hansol's door swings open, the boy looking a little surprised to see him. "Hey, I didn't know you were here."

"I wasn't."

"Oh? Did you come by to work on something or—"

"I'm here to see you," Chan tells him, pushing his way into the studio.

The sticker is in his line of sight again. 'Hansol V. Chwe.' He's pretty sure he can work out what the V means now.

"What's up?" Hansol asks, door shutting with a click.

"Were you going to tell me?"

He watches the emotions filter over Hansol's face, shock melting into understanding that fades into embarassment. "I was trying to find a way."

"But you knew this whole time, right? You knew I was Dino. You even saw me dancing your song last week, and you didn't—"

"I didn't know how to tell you. I was trying to find a way, but then we were becoming friends, and I—"

"You could have told me when we first met!" Chan argues.

Hansol's entire face flushes as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearly unsure what to say. "Well, I was surprised."

"Too surprised to say something?!" He sounds annoyed. He's almost too aware of how irritated he sounds about this whole thing. But he's mad. The walk from his subway to the studio gave him time to think it over, and he can't help but feel a little angry about the whole thing.

Hansol scratches his neck, looking down at his feet. "I just— I didn't know what to say to you. I heard—"

"Heard what?"

Hansol swallows. "Well, Jihoon said one of the teachers here posts in his free time, and I just never thought it would be you. We've been… In touch, I guess, for so long… But I never imagined us actually meeting!"

He looks almost shy at the admission, gesturing in a slightly helpless way that makes Chan regret his tone.

"You knocked on the door, and I just—" Hansol shrugs, still a little lost. "I had no idea what to say to you."

"I feel like an idiot," Chan admits.

"I'm sorry. I really wanted to tell you. But I just didn't know what to say. I thought you'd just figure it out when I posted again…"

"Seungkwan had to tell me."

Hansol grimaces a little. "I'm sorry, really."

Chan lets out a quiet breath. "I just wish you'd told me. I've been—" He cuts himself off, looking away as Hansol leans forward from where he's standing.

"You've been…?"

He's not sure how to say it without sounding a little pained, but he can't help it. "I've been thinking about meeting you for so long. I mean, I know we weren't technically friends. A few comments doesn't bond us, or whatever. But I just— I had an idea that someday we would meet."

"You did?" Hansol asks, voice almost hopeful.

"Yeah," Chan murmurs, embarassment creeping up his neck. "Honestly, Soonyoung was probably going to end up pressuring me to DM you sometime in the future. He's sure I have some crush on you."

He's not really sure why he says it. In fact, he regrets it as soon as it slips out, mouth clamping firmly shut as Hansol's eyebrows raise. "Crush?"

Chan flushes. "He just had a habit of pointing out how excited I'd get when you'd leave comments on my stuff. It was stupid. I mean, I didn't even know what you looked like. It was—"

"And, now?" Hansol interrupts.

"Now?" Chan asks, mouth drying up a little.

Hansol shrugs a little awkwardly, stepping forward less than a foot. "Now that we're friends… And, you know me in person, and—"

"I didn't know you were the same person until an hour ago, you know?"

"But you know now," Hansol pushes. "You know that I'm Vernon. Does it— Do you—"

"Do you?" Chan asks, turning it around. If anything, he shouldn't have to admit anything. This is Hansol's mess, if you think about it. Why should Chan embarrass himself more?

It's almost comical how red Hansol goes, mouth opening and closing a few times before he can get a grasp on his words. "Well, I always did… From the first video I watched, I thought you were cute… That's part of why I got so tongue-tied when we met. You were so different in person… Better."

It feels like the airs been knocked out of Chan's lungs as he replays their moments together in his mind. This is what Hansol's been thinking the whole time? This is what he meant at the bar when he'd said Chan wasn't what he expected. He idly wonders if this is what Hansol meant when he'd talked about having a connection to the studio.

Is it him? Is Chan his connection?

He's sure his brain is moving in slow motion, the gears twisting through the idea of Hansol and Vernon, the faceless producer merging with the boy in front of him, a collection of moments from the past few weeks all filtering through his mind.

"Okay," he breathes out.

"Okay?" Hansol echoes.

"It makes things a lot easier for me," Chan starts explaining. "I was feeling so torn getting to know you, and still feeling so giddy over a few YouTube comments… But you're you."

"I'm me," Hansol awkwardly replies, unsure look on his face.

Chan really wants to kiss him.

The thought rushes through him like it's just woken up, his brain finally opening the door to something that's been hiding for so long. He really wants to kiss him. He's in front of him— no screen separating them. And, he's Hansol. They're friends. They've known each other for weeks. Known of each other for years.

Chan can barely feel his feet moving. He just knows he ends up in front of Hansol, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek, pull him down. The taller lets out a quiet noise of surprise as their lips meet, but he doesn't move away.

It's soft, the pressure of Hansol's lips against his own reassuring. It just feels right. Chan is sure his heart is going to beat out of his chest, but if he dies, he's sure he'll die happy.

Hansol's hands end up on his waist, light touch pulling him closer as gently as possible. It's easy for their mouths to move in sync, breaths quiet between them as they try to move impossibly closer.

"I've been thinking about that for—" Hansol's eyes flicker as he tries to think it over. "I don't even know how long."

"Imagine how much time you'd have saved by being honest," Chan prods, just to watch Hansol grimace before kissing him again.

It feels a little desperate this time, mouths open, teeth almost clashing. His cheek is warm under Chan's hand, and he's sure if he pulls away now he'll see a dusting of pink on Hansol's cheeks. But Hansol tastes like coffee, and he's doing this thing with his tongue that has Chan sure he'll never be able to kiss anyone else without remembering this moment.

They seem to move as one, Chan's unsteady feet making their way towards the couch in the corner, Hansol's hands guiding him, keeping him upright until the back of Hansol's legs hit the couch. He lands with a quiet 'oof,' hands still reaching towards Chan, pupils a little blown as he stares up at him. Hansol's a sight like this; his lips are redder than usual, shiny with spit, and he looks a little amazed to see Chan standing in front of him.

The hand he's reaching towards him ends up on Chan's wrist, careful fingers tugging him until Chan gets the message, clambering into Hansol's lap, knees either side of his thighs.

Chan doesn't kiss him again for a moment. He just sits there, studying Hansol's flushed cheeks, eyes mapping the way his eyes follow Chan's. He lets himself run a hand through Hansol's hair, tugging a little, smiling when Hansol turns a little more pink.

"Do you like that?" Chan asks, giddy feeling unfurling itself in his chest.

"I like you," Hansol replies, hands landing on Chan's waist again. He can feel Hansol's thumb rubbing a circle against his hip.

"I like you, too," Chan assures, tugging at the hair on the nape of Hansol's neck again. "A lot, really."

Hansol kisses him again, mouth soft against the corner of Chan's lips, moving down his jaw, his neck. It's addictive. Chan is left a squirming mess as Hansol's teeth ghost against his collarbone, the neckline of his shirt being pulled by Hansol for more access.

He's still squirming as Hansol bites at his neck, the idea of a hickey somewhat juvenile to Chan in the past; now, he's pretty sure he'll die without one. He's almost embarrassed about the moan it tugs from him, but Hansol looks a little accomplished as he pulls away, thumb pressing the bruise until Chan lets out a shaky breath.

Their kissing is messier this time, their proximity dizzying. The first rock of Chan's hips is almost involuntary, body taking over his mind. But the way Hansol gasps into his mouth urges him on, moving again, smiling into the kiss as Hansol tries to kiss back without paying attention to the distraction.

Chan hasn't dry-humped anyone since he was in college, nineteen and still figuring himself out. He's slept with people since, had sex more times than he'd probably admit. But he's not sure he can fuck Hansol today. The idea is rather tempting, of course. But he needs this, now, two bodies together. It's enough for now.

They have time, he figures, rocking against him again.

"I want—" Hansol cuts himself off, trying to get his breathing back to normal as Chan grinds down on him again. "Can I touch you?"

"Please," Chan breathes, not unaffected by his own actions.

He's suddenly thankful he was with Seungkwan a few hours ago, sweatpants being his go-to. It's easy for Hansol to slip his hand inside, palming Chan over his boxers for a moment. It knocks a gasp out of him, the sound replaced with a strangled moan as Hansol manages to pull his cock free of his boxers.

He's sure he shouldn't be this hard already, but he can't really feel embarrassed when Hansol looks so amazed, mouth twisting into a smile as he runs his thumb over the tip, collecting a bead of pre-cum.

"You too," Chan requests, nodding down at Hansol's jeans. He helps with the button and the zipper, the angle a bit off as Hansol does his best to shimmy a little without knocking Chan from his seat.

Hansol's just as affected as Chan, he notes, practically grinning at the small wet spot Hansol doesn't acknowledge as he pulls his own cock out, looking at Chan a little shyly.

Chan holds a hand in front of his mouth, eyebrow raising until Hansol dutifully spits into his palm. "Good boy," Chan smiles, trying not to feel smug about the way Hansol squirms under his gaze, red cheeks standing out.

It takes a moment for Chan to line their cocks up, hand stretching to try and hold them both. Hansol seems to watch in wonder before he spits in his own hand, joining Chan to ease the process. It's good. It's hot. It makes Chan feel giddy with pleasure, his hips jumping a little.

They kiss again, although Chan isn't even sure it can be classed as that. Their mouths are together, breath and saliva passing back and forth, but they're both too absorbed in their own pleasure to really put effort into kissing properly. There's a certain neediness to the quiet whimpers from Hansol, and the breathless feeling that keeps building gin Chan's chest as he moves against him.

"So good," Hansol practically whispers, his hand moving in tandem with Chan's.

His eyes are closed when he comes, orgasm hitting him quicker than he expected, groan from the back of his throat almost hurting. Hansol isn't far behind him, though, his own moan following his spill into their hands, his chest heaving with the quiet breaths he tries to catch up on.

Chan glances down, face surely a shade of crimson as he notices the strain on his sweatpants. He's sure he has a spare pair somewhere in his studio, sure he can borrow Soonyoung's if not. But Hansol is leaning in to kiss him again, distracting him from the thought.

It's less desperate now, the fun over, normality returning. Is this his new normal? He hopes so. He really hopes so, in fact. He doesn't want to overthink it, but he really—"

"I live close by," Hansol tells him when they pull apart again. "If you want to change… You could come over? We could order food? Or, we don't have to but we could—"

Chan kisses him again to stop his spiral. "I'd love to," he assures.

Maybe this is his new normal.

𝄞

"So, you made a friend your own age?" Jun beams.

Chan ignores him.

They're at Soonyoung's again, a new party for something else Chan has forgotten about occupying their celebrations. It's different now, though. He's willingly hiding in the kitchen with Hansol, giddy about the way Hansol's hand feels against his waist.

It's still new, technically. They've spent two weekends wrapped up in each other's apartments, their weekly cinema dates also ending at one of their homes, their lunch breaks often spent in Hansol's studio, a distance between them to assure they can go back to work afterwards without looking debauched.

Chan has endured the teasing from his co-workers the whole time, never saying a word. It's easier. He's sure Seungkwan— considering he's made it to this party— will spill their secrets within the hour. Chan hopes he will, really. He's not sure he wants to stray too far from Hansol's warm touch.

𝄞

Dino: new dance to new track by @Vernon out next week! everyone set a reminder in your calendars.

Comment from Vernon: thank u for the promo! had fun working on this track with you!

Reply from Dino: oh i'm sure.

𝄞

Vernon: new track. dedicating to my boyfriend of two months, and my muse of over two years…. excited to see wat routine you come up with for this one.

Comment from Dino: hard-launching through song… i'm moved.

Reply from User4832020118: I KNEW IT!!!!!!!

Notes:

you can find me on twitter or you can shout at me on alterspring