Work Text:
Yeosang was sitting in a quiet room backstage, waiting for the rest of the members and staff to wrap rehearsal for the day. He lay sprawled across the venue sofa, thoroughly bored, his long limbs draped over the cushions as the distant, muffled thud of the stage speakers vibrated through the walls. His eyes drifted mindlessly around the cluttered space before landing on a familiar hard case tucked securely into the corner. He sat up, stared at it for a moment, then stood and walked over. He ran his fingers along the textured canvas and the heavy zipper before lifting the case and carrying it back to the couch.
“You know, you shouldn’t be touching Hongjoong’s guitar.”
“It’s fine.”
Yeosang answered without looking up, his tone dismissive but quiet. He kept his gaze fixed on the case, tracing the metal track of the zipper before popping the latches open and carefully lifting the acoustic guitar out. He set the heavy case aside on the floor, rested the instrument on his lap, and traced the worn, smooth design on the pickguard where Hongjoong's pick had struck a thousand times. Leaning back into the cushions, he plucked at the strings, letting the deep, hollow notes ring out into the empty dressing room as he started strumming mindlessly, wondering when the owner would finally be back.
“Are you having fun?”
Yeosang snapped his head toward the familiar, raspy voice at the door. A soft smile immediately broke across his face as he watched Hongjoong approach, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, a gentle expression already settling on his features the moment he saw who was waiting. Yeosang carefully set the guitar aside on the opposite end of the couch as Hongjoong took a seat beside him, letting out a tired sigh and draping an arm along the back of the sofa.
Yeosang looked up at him through his bangs, leaning back into the resting arm and shuffling closer across the cushions until he could rest his head heavily against Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“I was waiting for you.”
“You should’ve gone back to the hotel first, Sang-ah,” Hongjoong murmured softly, his tone carrying a touch of scolding but absolutely zero real bite. He didn't pull away in the slightest; instead, he tilted his head down, resting his cheek comfortably against the top of Yeosang's soft hair, inhaling deeply.
“Wanted to go with you, Hyung.”
Yeosang tilted his head up, pouting his bottom lip slightly as he stared at Hongjoong through his dark lashes, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of Hongjoong's sleeve to anchor himself. He felt firm, calloused fingers slide into his hair, scratching gently against his scalp in a way that always made his thoughts dissolve. Yeosang let out a quiet, needy keen at the direct attention, leaning blindly into the touch as his eyes fluttered shut. Hongjoong chuckled softly, the low vibration rumbling deeply against Yeosang's cheek where it pressed into his shoulder.
“You’re such a puppy.”
“Hm. Your puppy.”
Hongjoong smiled, his heart warming at the easy, completely unfiltered affection. Yeosang was always firm, quiet, and kept a strict, polite distance with the rest of the members to maintain his personal space, but around Hongjoong, the walls completely dissolved. He melted entirely—leaning into the older man's space, clinging without a second thought, and always finding small, quiet ways to keep touching him. Hongjoong kept carding his fingers through Yeosang’s hair, massaging the base of his neck and watching him go completely pliant, heavy, and relaxed under his palms.
“We should head back, baby.”
“Okay, Hyung.”
Hongjoong gripped Yeosang’s shoulder gently, helping his lazy, half-asleep body pull itself up from the deep sofa cushions. Before they even stood, Hongjoong laced their fingers together tightly, hiding their joined hands between their bodies as he led him out through the quiet, dimly lit backstage corridors toward the private exit. The drive back was entirely peaceful, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows while Yeosang kept his hand firmly anchored in Hongjoong's lap, his thumb idly tracing the line of Hongjoong's knuckles the entire time.
Back at the hotel, Hongjoong guided him down the carpeted hallway, purposefully walking past the rooms the other members were occupying and straight to his own private door at the end of the hall.
“Hyung? Why are you bringing me to your room?”
“I asked Mingi to switch with you tonight.”
“Oh? But—”
“He doesn’t mind,” Hongjoong interrupted softly, swiping the keycard and pushing the door open. “He’s actually glad to be roommate-free with the others tonight, and I wanted you here.”
“Okay.”
Yeosang didn't question it further. He walked over to the large bed and flopped face-first onto the mattress, hugging a plush white pillow tightly to his chest. He peeked over his shoulder at Hongjoong, who was already stripping off his damp rehearsal jacket and heading into the bathroom. Yeosang pulled out his phone and started scrolling, looking for the video player app; he’d already changed into comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt at the venue, so he just waited.
The bathroom door opened a while later, a cloud of warm steam spilling into the room. Hongjoong stepped out, towel-drying his damp hair, fresh clothes already on, and noticed Yeosang wiggling around on the mattress, his face buried deep in the screen as a dramatic, swelling orchestral track played quietly from the speakers.
“What are you watching?”
“The new episode of my drama, Hyung! It just dropped!” Yeosang gasped, his face turning serious as he watched the main characters confront each other in the rain.
Hongjoong chuckled at the sudden, intense focus. He climbed into bed, settling against the padded headboard, and patted the empty space right beside him. Yeosang immediately shuffled over, phone still held high in both hands, and leaned heavily into Hongjoong’s side. He resumed the video, softly humming along to the background music, completely absorbed in the plot.
Hongjoong scrolled through his own phone, checking schedule updates, but occasionally glanced over when Yeosang let out a quiet gasp or hid his face against Hongjoong's shoulder during a tense scene. Hongjoong smiled, pressing quiet, lingering kisses to the side of Yeosang’s head and running his fingers smoothly through his hair. Yeosang was so focused on the screen he didn’t even complain, simply leaning closer until his entire side was flushed against Hongjoong's warmth.
They stayed like that until Hongjoong checked the digital clock on the nightstand. Deeming it late enough, he set his phone down and stroked Yeosang’s hair one last time, gently nudging the phone in the younger man's hands.
“Baby, the episode's over. It’s time to sleep.”
“Okay, Hyung.”
Hongjoong smiled at the quiet compliance, thinking again how Yeosang was only ever this soft and yielding when it was just the two of them behind closed doors. Yeosang turned off his phone, setting it on the nightstand, and they both slid beneath the heavy blankets. Hongjoong pulled him close, settling Yeosang’s head comfortably against his chest, lacing their fingers together, and rubbing slow, soothing circles over his knuckles.
“You’re always so good for Hyung.”
“Yeah. Hyung’s good boy.”
Hongjoong chuckled, his heart swelling at the sleepy admission. He kept playing with Yeosang’s hair in the dark, watching his eyelids grow heavy, his thumb gently smoothing over the shell of Yeosang's ear, softly coaxing him toward sleep until the room was completely silent and the only sound left was the quiet hum of the hotel air conditioner.
“Sleep, Sang-ah.”
“Night, Hyung.”
“Night, baby.”
Hongjoong waited until Yeosang’s breathing evened out into a deep, steady rhythm, his body growing completely heavy and warm against Hongjoong's side, before finally closing his own eyes.
Morning light slipped through the thin curtains, painting long, pale gold stripes across the bedsheets, warming the blankets, and hitting Hongjoong’s face. He scrunched his nose, twitching his brow as he slowly blinked awake against the sudden brightness. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, then down to his right, where Yeosang was curled tightly against his arm like a stubborn, beautiful shadow, completely burying his face away from the morning glare. He smiled, his morning fog lifting instantly, and reached up with his free hand to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from Yeosang’s forehead.
“Sang-ah, time to wake up.”
“Hm~ no…”
Hongjoong tried again, letting out a low, gravelly chuckle that rumbled deep in his throat. He gently traced his thumb along Yeosang’s soft jawline, down to the sensitive skin of his neck as he spoke. He honestly wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and let him sleep for another three hours, but the managers had been incredibly strict about the morning hair and makeup schedule today.
“Five more minutes,” Yeosang mumbled into the plush pillow, his voice barely audible.
Instead of actually waking up, he turned his entire body, tucking himself directly under Hongjoong’s chin, his soft, warm cheeks pressing firmly into the crook of Hongjoong’s neck. His hand shifted, resting flat and heavy right over Hongjoong’s chest, while one leg was thrown completely over Hongjoong's hips to lock him down on the mattress. He let out a long, deeply contented sigh as Hongjoong’s fingers instinctively resumed their steady, soothing strokes through his messy hair.
Hongjoong kept petting him, letting his fingers tangle in the soft strands, while his other hand drifted down the slope of his back to wrap securely around Yeosang’s slim, warm waist, pulling him flush against his chest. He lifted Yeosang’s hand from his chest, bringing it up to his lips to press a soft, lingering kiss right over his knuckles.
“C’mon. Time to get up, lazy bones. The staff is going to start calling my phone in ten minutes.”
Yeosang finally shifted with a quiet, defeated groan, sliding his head up to prop his chin directly on Hongjoong’s chest. He pouted up at him through his long lashes, his grip around Hongjoong's waist tightening slightly in silent, stubborn protest. Hongjoong’s eyes softened completely at the sight. He smiled, leaning his head down to press a firm, sweet kiss against those pouting lips, lingering until Yeosang let out a soft, pleased hum against his mouth.
“It’s still so early,” Yeosang murmured against his lips, his eyes drifting shut again from the comfort of the friction.
“I know, baby. I know. But we gotta get up.”
Hongjoong tightened his hold on his waist, absolutely loving how yielding, pliant, and clingy Yeosang became when it was just the two of them behind closed doors, completely removed from his usual guarded backstage persona. Yeosang finally shifted with a long, dramatic sigh, sitting up on his knees to face him on the mattress. He stretched his arms high above his head, his shirt riding up slightly, before resting his hands lightly back down on Hongjoong’s chest, his thumbs idly tracing his collarbone.
“Shower?” Yeosang asked softly, his voice still thick and raspy with sleep.
“Sure.”
Hongjoong sat up, stood, and before Yeosang could even think about protesting the cold morning air, he leaned down and scooped him up completely. Yeosang let out a small yelp, his legs instinctively wrapping around Hongjoong's waist and his arms clinging tightly to his shoulders as Hongjoong carried him straight into the bathroom.
He set Yeosang down on the edge of the marble sink, the cool stone a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bed, making Yeosang shiver slightly and cling tighter to Hongjoong's neck. Hongjoong stripped off his own sleep clothes with practiced ease and then turned his attention back to Yeosang, gently pulling the oversized shirt over his head and helping him step out of his sweatpants. Once they were both bare, Hongjoong adjusted the shower temperature, waiting until a thick, comforting steam began to rise and blur the bathroom mirror before he reached out his hand.
Yeosang took his hand, stepping down into the warm spray with a soft sigh. Hongjoong kept a steadying, warm hand locked securely on his waist as they shared the small stall, the water cascading over their shoulders. They fell into a familiar, quiet rhythm, lathering soap into each other’s skin and working shampoo through each other’s hair.
Yeosang grumbles quietly about the stray spray hitting his face and stinging his eyes. To fix it, he hooked his fingers into the back of Hongjoong's arm, moving the older’s body to use as a shield against the showerhead. Hongjoong just laughed, soft and warm against the spray, leaning in to press a sweet, wet kiss to his cheek before taking over the rinsing.
Once they were done and the water was clicked off, Hongjoong grabbed two large towels from the rack. He wrapped one securely around Yeosang's shoulders, using the edge to gently blot the water from his damp bangs, before wrapping the second one around his own waist. Guiding a sleepy, compliant Yeosang out of the fading steam, he led him back to the bedroom. He sat Yeosang down on the edge of the mattress, where the younger man slumped comfortably, while Hongjoong went over to the closet to pull out clean clothes for the day.
Yeosang sat quietly, completely content to let Hongjoong pick out his entire outfit down to the socks. He dressed quickly once the clothes were handed to him piece by piece, leaning into Hongjoong's touch whenever the older man adjusted his collar or smoothed down the fabric. Moving to the mirror, they fixed themselves up—Yeosang double-checking that they had their wallets, lip balms, and room keycards tucked away, while Hongjoong scanned his phone for the latest venue updates and pickup times from the staff.
Ready at last, Hongjoong grabbed his bag and they headed for the door. The moment they stepped out of the room and into the public hotel hallway, a switch flipped. Yeosang immediately pulled his hands into his pockets, his shoulders squaring and his posture straightening back into his usual cool, distant expression—the professional, stoic visual the world knew.
But as Hongjoong stepped up right beside him to walk down the corridor, Yeosang’s left hand slipped out of his pocket. Reaching back blindly, his fingers caught hold of Hongjoong’s pinky, locking around it securely. He kept his chin up and his eyes fixed straight ahead on the elevator doors, refusing to look over or break his cool facade, but when Hongjoong glanced at him with a knowing grin, he didn’t let go.
“Cute,” Hongjoong whispered, leaning in just enough so only Yeosang could hear.
“Shut up,” Yeosang mumbled. A light, stubborn pink flush crept up his neck to his ears, but his grip around Hongjoong's pinky only tightened.