Archive of Our Own

It’s become a habit. Or maybe more like a tradition. A necessity, even. Kun has had his ear pierced for awhile now, long enough that he’s used to it, that he can take it out and put it on himself.

And yet, he still goes to Ten.

Whenever he has a new earring he wants to wear, he goes to Ten.

At first, Ten was understanding, accommodating. He laughed about it and said it was cute how Kun and Yangyang needed the help, but seemed to preen under the attention, like he enjoyed being the resident Piercing Expert among the group.

Eventually, he teased them about it. Kun more than Yangyang, who was quicker to stop going to Ten for help.

“You must really need my assistance, huh?” Ten would tease when Kun would show up but he’d never turn him away.

He doesn’t today either, when Kun knocks on his door and enters, holds up the small piece of jewelry and says, “Do you mind?”

Ten, lounging in bed in those short shorts he wears around the dorm and a loose tank top, curls his lips into an amused smirk and beckons Kun into the room. “Not at all,” he says.

Kun should be used to this, too. They’ve done it enough times that he’s lost count. Ten teases, puts on the earring for him, maybe cheekily ask for a favor in return, and Kun will roll his eyes and chide him about something—feeding the cats, cleaning his room, preparing for a schedule.

Today, though, when Kun settles into the chair at Ten’s desk and Ten picks up the earring from Kun’s palm, there’s none of that teasing. Ten inspects the earring, says, “Oh, this is nice,” and carefully unscrews the backing. “Is it new?” he asks as he slides his fingers along Kun’s jaw to turn him the way he needs.

Kun licks his lips. Ten’s fingers feel cool against his skin. “Yeah,” he says. “Picked them up the other day when I went out with Dejun.”

“You guys should’ve taken me with you,” Ten says. His fingers are now on Kun’s ear and he steps in closer, in between Kun’s knees.

Kun’s hands instinctively reach out to hold him, palms grazing across the bare skin of Ten’s thighs where his shorts don’t cover before quickly resettling at his hips. Heat floods his veins, rushing to his face, and he hopes Ten doesn’t notice he’s blushing.

When Kun glances up at Ten though, he’s focused on the task at hand. His short hair makes it much easier to gaze upon his face, catch the concentration in his eyes as he smoothly undoes the earring Kun’s wearing and slides the new one in its place. He hands the old earring back to Kun, who holds it tightly in his palm. Ten’s tongue pokes out as he screws the small ball into place on the end of the post. His hips feel warm under Kun’s hands and suddenly, inexplicably, Kun wants—

“There,” Ten declares, taking a step back. Kun’s hands fall away, down to his lap. The earring is secured and Ten is smiling one of those devastating smiles of his down at him. “All done.”

Kun wants to kiss him.

“Thanks,” he says instead, pushing the impetuous thought to the back of his head. His knees pop when he stands and Ten laughs, calls him an old man like they’re not a month apart in age, and Kun rolls his eyes and grasps for the usual familiarity of these moments, reminding Ten it’s his turn to wash the dishes.

Ten groans, makes a show of collapsing back into bed, and Kun turns away before Ten can catch his amused smile.

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him, and reaches up to touch his earring.

The phantom touch of Ten’s cool fingers still lingers.

If Kun is honest, he’s thought about kissing Ten before. It’s a hard thing to be honest about though, so he tries not to think about it. But Ten is cheeky and clever and competitive, and he riles Kun up as naturally as breathing. Kun has wondered what it’d be like to just kiss him quiet, shut him up with his mouth. How would Ten react? Would he like it? Would he kiss back?

Kun never lets himself think about it for long.

Days pass in a flurry of schedules. They’re all busy these days between the subunits and the upcoming album release. Photoshoots and interviews and hours upon hours of dance practice. Kun easily forgets about that desperate urge to kiss Ten, pushing it into the back of his mind and focusing on work.

Work is easy. He knows what’s expected of him in the recording booth, in the dance studio. He knows what to say to get an interviewer laughing or the fans excited. He slips into his role as leader with practiced ease, keeping the others in line, herding them to schedule after schedule, making sure they eat, they rest, they clean up after themselves.

And if, in between all the easy moments, he catches Ten’s eyes, or Ten falls asleep on his shoulder on the ride back to the dorm, or Ten steals Kun’s food right off his plate with a sneaky, pretty smile, well, Kun lets them wash over him like a wave rolls over a buoy in the ocean. He searches for air, takes a deep breath, and keeps going.

Things are fine. Just as Kun has become used to leading WayV, he’s become used to hiding his feelings for Ten, too.

That is, until he needs Ten’s help with his earring again.

Ten is lounging on the couch when Kun looks for him. It’s a Saturday and they don’t have any schedules. Yangyang is out with Renjun, for once taking their playdates outside of the dorm. Ten is lying on his back with Louis on his chest, watching something on his laptop that’s perched a bit precariously on the arm of the other end of the couch.

Kun, fresh from a shower, has plans to get lunch with Dejun in an hour and then work on a song together. He has the earring he wants to wear clenched in his palm as he walks into the living room. Ten laughs at something happening in the show or movie he’s watching, stroking Louis gently at the same time. That laugh. Kun wants to…

“Hey,” he says, his voice coming out a little like a croak. He clears his throat as Ten looks over at him. “Mind lending a hand?” His voice comes out normally this time. He holds up the earring.

Ten’s mouth twists into a smile. He nods. The thin-framed glasses he wears around the dorm slip down his nose and he easily pushes them back. He gently coaxes Louis off his chest and looks disappointed when Louis jumps right off him and scitters away down the hall. Ten stares after him for a moment, then shakes his head and crawls across the couch to press pause on his laptop. Kun drops his eyes from Ten’s ass to the floor and still manages to trip slightly over one of the cat toys left on the carpet.

Ten laughs again. It’s different, this one. Amused, and at Kun’s expense. When Kun looks back up, Ten’s thankfully sitting normally in the middle of the couch, legs crossed. He pats the space next to him, gazes at Kun expectantly as if he believes no matter when he calls, Kun will come.

Kun sits down next to him.

He doesn’t know why this is so hard, suddenly. Ten’s been helping him with this for months without any issue. Just a few seconds and it’s over and they both go on their way.

Except. After the last time, after feeling Ten’s hips under his hands, Ten’s cool fingers on his skin, Ten’s tongue poking out between his lips, all Kun can think about now is how much he still wants to kiss him.

He hands the earring over and turns his head to the side so Ten can reach his ear easily.

“You know you’re just going out with Dejun,” Ten says as he unscrews the backing of the earring. “It’s not like you have to impress him or something by wearing jewelry.”

Kun laughs softly, grasps at the thread of conversation for something to focus on except for the overwhelming desire raging inside of him. “I’m not trying to impress anyone,” he says. “I just like wearing my own jewelry sometimes, instead of the ones they give us during promotions and photoshoots.”

Ten hums. He scoots around until he’s sideways, facing Kun more directly. His knees bump against Kun’s leg. He reaches up and turns Kun’s head back how it was and like this, Kun is staring out into the living room instead of at Ten. It’s probably better that way.

“At least you only have the one to worry about,” Ten says. “When they make me change out all of my earrings it’s such a pain. I have good taste! Just let me use my own.”

The whiny edge to his voice makes Kun laugh, a little more fully this time. He turns his head slightly to catch Ten’s face and Ten laughs too, pushes Kun back into place and slides the earring into his ear. “You look good with whatever they give you, though,” Kun says, which is true, but might be too honest. His heart thumps heavily in his chest and he curls his fingers into the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

“Oh, I know,” Ten says and it’s enough to make Kun relax, roll his eyes. Ten probably notices because he laughs again. “Have you thought about getting another piercing?”

Kun blinks. He can feel Ten securing the back of the earring on, can feel when it’s done because Ten lets his fingers brush over the earring and lightly down the side of his neck as he pulls back. His touch leaves wildfires in its wake. Kun desperately tries not to reach up and feel the residual heat.

He turns instead to look at Ten as he answers. “Not really,” he admits. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Ten purses his lips in thought, his eyes laser-focusing on Kun’s face. “You should,” he says. “It’d look cool.” He reaches out to touch Kun’s ear again. “Another one here maybe,” he continues and Kun feels the air in his lungs slowly evaporating as Ten gets a little closer, his gaze gets a little sharper. “Or at least another one here to match,” he suggests, reaching up with his other hand to rub his thumb over the lobe of Kun’s right ear.

Kun had hoped he wouldn’t feel that urge again today. That Ten would just put on the earring and they’d move on like usual, but as he stares at Ten, as Ten continues to brush his fingers over his skin, the feeling comes back, burning through his chest, up through his throat like if he doesn’t say something or do something, he might just combust. Ten is so close, close enough to kiss, close enough to reach back and touch the way Ten is touching him. How many times has Kun thought about it? To run his fingers over Ten’s earrings, too, slide his mouth across them, his tongue—

“Or, you could do something wild like get your nose pierced,” Ten says, cutting through Kun’s thoughts like a knife.

The laugh he lets out feels like a gasp of air and the fire inside him fizzles out, turning all the images in his mind into ash. He meets Ten’s teasing eyes and lightly smacks his hands away, pushing himself off the couch and to his feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says as he heads out of the room, Ten cackling after him. Still, he stops at the edge of the hallway and turns back to say, “Thanks.”

“Anytime, Kun-ge,” Ten says, soft, sweet and smooth, flashing one of those pretty smiles as he sinks back into the couch.

Kun’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He turns on his heel and leaves.

The members come to Kun for help with a wide assortment of things. He’s the oldest member and the leader so it’s expected and understandable. Whether it’s advice about work-related matters, a neutral mediator during a silly argument, or something else, Kun is happy to provide a helping hand.

They all get homesick sometimes. It’ll hit at random moments, creeping up on them over a few days or weeks until it’s unbearable and all they can do is hole up in their rooms and spend longer lengths of time on the phone with their parents or friends back home.

So when Ten comes by Kun’s room one evening and asks for Kun’s help making dinner, holding up his phone with one of his mom’s recipes, Kun, despite being exhausted from the day’s schedules, can’t say no.

Not that he really would have anyway.

“Sure,” he says, forcing himself out of bed with Leon, who jumps down by Kun’s feet and follows him to the door. “What do you need?”

Som tum isn’t too difficult to make but Ten also wants dumplings. Luckily, they have all the ingredients in the kitchen. It’s nearing dinner-time anyway and som tum with dumplings makes for a much healthier meal than ordering takeout again this week.

“I don’t get what she means by julienne,” Ten says, squinting at his phone like that will make the words clearer. “You just gotta chop everything right?”

“It’s just cutting it into thin strips,” Kun explains. “I’ll do it,” he adds when Ten picks up a knife. “You’ll just chop off a finger.”

“I want to help,” Ten protests.

“Mix together the stuff for the sauce in a bowl,” Kun says. “You can’t mess that up.”

Ten opens his mouth like he wants to protest again but then seems to realize he can’t. He scrunches his nose instead and turns away, opening cupboards to pull out a mixing bowl and ingredients.

Kun likes cooking. There’s something almost therapeutic about it in a different way than going on a run or working on music is for him. It’s following directions and tasting along the way and making the necessary adjustments. He’s never made som tum before and he has to have Ten translate the instructions from his mother since they’re in Thai but together they make a pretty efficient team. Once Kun cuts up the green beans, he realizes they never soaked the papaya and finds another bowl to fill with water.

“Did you get this the other day because you were planning to make this?” Kun asks as he submerges the papaya in the water. It’s not something they usually have on hand so he was a little surprised when Ten pulled it out earlier.

“Yeah,” Ten says with a small shrug. “I’ve been craving this dish for days. My mom always makes it the best. It’s not the same here but maybe with her recipe we can get it close.”

Kun looks down at the papaya and nods, setting the bowl aside. Ten’s nearly done with the sauce so he decides to work on the filling for the dumplings. “I’ll do my best,” he says and Ten lets out a little amused laugh, glancing over at Kun with bright eyes.

“You always do,” he says and quickly looks away as if the honesty is too much, aggressively mixing together the ingredients in his bowl.

Kun bites his lip to keep from smiling too wide, hiding behind the fridge door as he looks for vegetables until he gets his face under control. By the time he’s picked out everything they need, Ten’s done with the sauce and joins Kun at the table to help make the filling. Cooking with Ten is always a little chaotic. He’s impatient and not nearly as meticulous, but when Kun gives him a direction, he follows it with minimal complaint.

When the papaya has soaked long enough, Ten watches closely as Kun slices it in half and then carefully juliennes it lengthwise. “I can totally do that,” Ten says and Kun laughs, disbelievingly, but Ten’s got that competitive look in his eyes that means Kun won’t hear the last of it unless Ten tries.

“Okay, let’s see it then,” he says, handing Ten the knife and sliding the cutting board around for him.

Ten makes a show of rolling up his non-existent sleeves, stretching his arms out and rolling his shoulders like he’s about to do some heavy lifting. Kun rolls his eyes but can’t help the amused smile tugging at his lips. He keeps his gaze focused on Ten’s hands instead of where the wide open holes of his tank top reveal far too much skin.

Ten makes a few careful, slow cuts in the papaya, slicing them finely to match what Kun has already done. “See?” Ten says proudly. “It’s not that hard.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be here all day at the pace you’re going,” Kun laughs. “Just leave it to me.”

To his credit, Ten hands the knife back over, clearly realizing Kun has a point. He doesn’t look particularly pleased about it though, and it’s obvious he still wants to help. Kun hands him the packet of chives and says, “Here, chop these up instead. They’ll go inside the dumplings so they don’t have to be pretty.”

Ten’s smile is almost blinding. He gets right to work and Kun reminds him just once to be careful before he picks back up with the papaya. Like this, they make steady progress on the meal together in comfortable silence. By the time they’re ready to actually make the dumplings, Ten has put on a playlist of eclectic pop music to fill in the kitchen and the papaya salad is done and chilling in the fridge. They move to sit around the dining table to make the dumplings instead of working at the kitchen counter and Kun shows Ten how to wet the wrappers and fold them along the seam for the traditional dumpling look.

“I got it,” Ten says immediately after a single demonstration.

“It’s not that easy if it’s your first time—”

“Relax, Kun-ge,” Ten says, grabbing a wrapper and placing a small spoonful of filling in the center. “I’ll make it look good. I’m an artist, afterall.”

“That has nothing to do with this,” Kun sighs in protest but he watches as Ten folds over the wrapper and attempts to make the pleats across the top. He’s definitely got the general idea but the wrapper falls open as he gets halfway through and by the third attempt, there’s a crease between Ten’s brows and a frustrated twist to his mouth.

“Here,” Kun says, scooting back in his chair to step out and help. He moves without even really realizing what he’s doing, until he’s leaning over Ten from behind and his hands hover over Ten’s. He hesitates for a moment but Ten doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push him away, just waits, so Kun lets out a small breath and shows Ten how to hold the dumpling in one hand and how to maneuver his fingers to fold the pleats. Ten’s hands are so warm.

“Oh, oh, okay, I get it,” Ten says after watching Kun quietly for a few moments. He sets the finished dumpling down on a plate and reaches for another wrapper.

Kun forces himself to return to his seat, already missing the heat from Ten’s body against his, and watches as Ten makes another dumpling. It’s much better this time.

“Like this, right?” Ten asks and Kun nods, reaches out to help him properly fold over the last few pleats more smoothly.

“Yeah, like this,” he says. “If you hold it like this it’ll keep it from falling apart, yeah, that’s it.”

Ten beams, looking proudly down at his dumpling the way he’ll look at Louis or Leon, like it’s his baby. Kun doesn’t expect that gaze to shift up to him, like Ten’s pleased with Kun’s help. And Kun only realizes now how close they are, that he subconsciously scooted his chair over to help Ten and that their knees are bumping together under the table.

The proud, satisfied look on Ten’s face makes Kun want to kiss him, tell him he’s done a good job. His lips are pretty and pink and so inviting and it would be easy to close the small space between them and press their mouths together but Kun can’t. He can’t. He won’t. Not like this. Not even when his gaze shift back up to Ten’s and the look in Ten’s eyes is so promising, like he’s waiting, almost, for Kun to go through with it. Like Ten wants to kiss him too.

But that can’t be. Ten doesn’t—

“Kun,” Ten says and Kun’s mouth runs dry. He licks his lips. He doesn’t miss the way Ten’s gaze flickers down to watch.

“Whoa, are you guys making dumplings?”

Kun jerks back like someone just popped a balloon right next to his ear. It takes a few moments for his mind to catch up to the interruption, Yangyang bounding into the room and climbing up onto a chair across from Ten, peering over at the bowl of filling and the stack of wrappers. Kun’s heart is beating wildly in his chest and when he dares to glance over at Ten, he’s looking down at his lap with a sour expression. Whatever Ten wanted to say is long gone now and Kun aches with disappointment all the way down to his toes.

“Uhh, did I interrupt something?” Yangyang says, looking between the two of them when the silence stretches on for too long, neither of them answering his initial question.

“Nope, not at all,” Ten says, finally lifting his head to look at Yangyang with a wide smile. But Kun can tell it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Did you want to help?” Kun asks and when Yangyang nods, Kun stands up to round the table to his side. He helps Yangyang like he helped Ten, showing him how to fill the wrapper and fold it closed, and all the while he feels Ten's eyes on him, hot and heavy like the burning light of the afternoon sun.

Living in the dorms and being a part of an umbrella group of over 20 people means it’s never that surprising to come home to find someone who doesn’t live there acting like they live there. Usually it’s in the evenings, when Renjun or Chenle sometimes drop by after a day of practice and watch movies with Yangyang, or when members of the other WayV dorm show up for dinner, Bella in tow to let her play with Louis and Leon.

It’s usually not in the morning, way before noon, but Kun comes back from an early morning jog to find Ten and Johnny on the couch, laughter filling the dorm like they’ve been at this for hours.

“Hey, man,” Johnny greets him in English, grinning widely as he pats Ten’s knee, which is draped over Johnny’s leg, “how’s it going?”

“Good,” Kun replies in English. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and still feels like he needs to catch his breath even though he’d walked leisurely up from the ground floor to the dorm. “How are you?” he asks as he steps into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

“Ah, the same old, same old, you know,” Johnny replies easily. “I was thinking of filming another JCC so I wanted Ten’s help,” he adds in Korean, clearly explaining his sudden appearance in their dorm.

“We made a list of ideas,” Ten says, holding up his phone. His eyes are bright and excited. Kun knows he enjoys spending time with Johnny and JCC is one of the few chances they get these days. Still, there’s a lump in his throat that won’t go down, no matter how much water he drinks.

“They’re pretty dumb,” Johnny laughs but he actually seems kind of pleased about that. “We gotta narrow it down somehow.”

“Are you planning to film today?” Kun asks, curiosity getting the better of him. They don’t have any schedules today, so if Ten disappeared for awhile to film with Johnny, it wouldn’t be a problem. Still.

Kun fills up his glass again and takes another drink.

“Haven’t planned that far ahead yet,” Johnny admits sheepishly and Ten laughs.

“It’s okay, baby,” Ten says, stretching his legs across Johnny’s lap, toes pressing into his thigh. “It’s fun just thinking of ideas anyway.”

“Aw, babe,” Johnny says, touching a hand to his chest like he’s touched. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Shut up,” Ten says, laughing again as Johnny grins, reaching out to rub his fingers over Ten’s ear, over the piercings at his lobe.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t miss me, too,” Johnny crows and Kun...Kun knows they’re like this. They’ve always been like this. It isn’t anything new. In fact, it should be as normal as breathing.

Still. The lump in his throat makes him feel like he can’t speak. It takes a few moments for him to realize he’s just standing in the kitchen, watching them, holding a half-empty glass of water like an idiot. He downs the rest of the water, puts the glass in the sink, and says, clearing his throat, “I’m gonna shower.” It comes out in Mandarin and he regrets it immediately because he doesn’t like excluding Johnny and yet he feels a weird vindictive pleasure when Ten looks over and nods, understanding, and Johnny just furrows his brows, unsure.

“We were thinking of ordering breakfast,” Ten calls after him as Kun heads down the hall.

“Get whatever you want,” he yells back before locking himself into the bathroom.

The second the door shuts, Kun lets out a deep breath, the unsettled feeling in his veins slowly fading away and leaving him drained. He strips out of his clothes, setting his phone and airpods from his pocket onto the counter by the sink. He almost doesn’t recognize himself when he looks in the mirror. This upset, jealous person who can’t even keep his cool around his friends, his friends, for more than five minutes.

“Fuck,” he says, running a hand through his hair again. “Fuck, what am I doing.”

He steps into the shower and lets the cool spray attempt to clear his mind. It doesn’t work very well.

It’s been over a week since The Dumpling Moment, as Kun has rather pathetically started referring to it in his head. Ten never came to Kun to finish whatever he wanted to say that day. Kun never went to Ten to ask him. They’ve been busy with wrapping up recording for their upcoming album and filming interviews that aren’t going to be aired for another month.

Nothing has changed between them either. Kun is probably reading into a small moment more than necessary. It was probably nothing. It was probably just Ten wanting to thank him or tease him.

Still, it clings to him, makes him ache to get Ten alone and see if that kind of moment will naturally occur again even though Kun knows it won’t. Kun is the one with these terrible, overwhelming, frustrating feelings. He’s the one who likes Ten, who wants to kiss him, wants to have him to himself.

But Ten is Ten, the same as always. Clinging to whoever lets him, practicing dance until he’s so exhausted he can’t stand, complaining about Kun singing too loudly in the dorm late at night, curling up in a corner of the couch with his iPad to release all the designs and ideas in his head, losing track of time until it’s the nearly 3am and Kun has to coax him to bed.

Maybe it’s just an accumulation of all of that that’s made it almost unbearable to see Ten and Johnny all wrapped up together, Johnny touching Ten’s piercings the way Kun has thought about doing for so long he doesn’t even remember the first time anymore. Why is it so easy for Johnny and so hard for Kun?

By the time Kun has given up trying to drown himself in the shower, he still doesn’t have an answer to that question but he does feel slightly less resentful. He washes his hair and body, rinses off, and steps out to dry off. When he looks in the mirror now, his reflection is no longer a stranger and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh.

He wraps the towel around his waist, gathers up all his clothes, phone, and airpods, and heads to his bedroom. Leon is dozing on his bed and for the first time since he returned home, Kun smiles. He dumps his clothes in his hamper, his phone and airpods on his desk, and heads to the bed to gently stroke Leon’s back. Leon makes a small noise but otherwise doesn’t move, so Kun sits beside him and continues to pet him lightly, feeling minutely better with each passing second.

“Hey,” Ten says suddenly, pushing open the ajar door and stepping inside, “food’s here if you—Oh, uh, sorry.”

Kun blinks, confused, but then catches the way Ten’s eyes drop from his face to Kun’s bare chest, and down further still to where the towel is wrapped around his waist. “Ah,” he says, shrugging a shoulder. “I got distracted before I could dress.”

Ten nods. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, eyes darting to where Leon is still dozing and then back to Kun. “Yeah, I can see that,” he says and he almost looks...embarrassed, which is weird because Ten is many things but easily embarrassed about nudity is not particularly one of them.

Kun kind of wants to tease him, wants to test him. He stands, holding the towel where it’s tucked in at the end to ensure it doesn’t fall right to the floor, and stops by the closet near the door, making a show of looking for clothes. Ten doesn’t leave. He watches Kun find a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants like he can’t drag his eyes away.

“Not that I don’t mind an audience,” Kun drawls slowly, feeling weirdly smug about Ten’s attention, “but I’m gonna have to take this towel off soon so...”

“What?” Ten says, eyes snapping up from where Kun’s holding his towel in place. Kun raises a brow at him expectantly and Ten turns a delightful shade of pink as he seems to realize just how obviously he was staring. “Oh, right, haha, sorry, I was just—Nevermind,” he says and quickly turns away to leave. “Come, uh, join us before the food gets cold,” he adds just before he disappears out the door, loudly slamming it shut behind him.

And every ridiculous feeling Kun has felt since he came home that morning, every bit of jealousy, of anguish, of frustration, melts away as he sinks back into his bed full of laughter. Leon jerks up at the sudden sound, meowing loudly up at Kun as Kun feels about a hundred times lighter than he has in days. Ever since The Dumpling Moment, even.

“What was up with him?” he says aloud, turning to look at Leon as if the cat will have an answer. Leon just burrows his face into his paws and Kun reaches out to brush his fingers over his back, chuckling softy.

He doesn't dare to hope but Ten's reaction makes him wonder if maybe there's something there.

When Kun finally dresses and heads out to eat, Leon following along by his feet, Ten, Johnny and a sleepy-looking Yangyang are already crowded around the table, filling up their plates with kimbap. Johnny swipes a piece of gyeran mari off Ten’s plate and holds it high over his head, using his height to his advantage as Ten tries to jump up and snatch it back.

“It’s mine!” he exclaims and pounds Johnny’s chest with his fist when Johnny twists around and pops it into his mouth. “Hey!”

“You snooze, you lose,” Johnny says around his mouthful, one of those English phrases that Kun finds kind of silly.

“Dude, there’s more here,” Yangyang says, also in English, picking one up and dropping it onto Ten’s plate.

Ten looks down at his plate then up at Yangyang with a wide smile. Yangyang, correctly detecting Ten’s expression, darts away immediately, running around the table as Ten gives chase, cooing, “My baby! So thoughtful!” after him.

It’s far too eventful for a Wednesday morning. Kun can’t help it. He laughs, hiding his mirth into his fist as he approaches the table and is immediately accosted by Yangyang as a shield. “You guys have too much energy,” he says.

“Says the guy who went out for a run at 8am,” Ten scoffs, flicking Kun on the shoulder with his fingers. Whatever issue he was having five minutes earlier in Kun’s room seems to have vanished now, appearing as friendly and vexing as he usually is around Kun.

“That’s not really the same—”

“Yes, it is,” Yangyang and Ten say together.

Johnny laughs. Kun sighs, shaking his head. “Whatever,” he says, not up for the debate, and leaves to grab a plate from the kitchen. When he returns, they’ve all mostly settled down, seated around the table to eat. He sits beside Yangyang since Ten and Johnny have occupied the chairs on the other side of the table, sitting almost too close to each other to be comfortable when eating but neither seems to complain.

Conversation bounces around between work and games and movies they’ve watched recently on Netflix to Yangyang asking about their JCC ideas and vetoing the ones that sound lame. It’s not surprising that the three of them end up speaking in English more often than not, the occasional Korean mixed in with the rare Mandarin, but it makes it difficult for Kun to follow. He hates how it feels like he’s watching from afar when Johnny jokes in English and Ten laughs like it’s the funniest thing he ever heard, and he tries desperately to cling onto the high, happy feeling from barely twenty minutes ago, laughing back in his room after Ten walked in on him.

It’s so stupid. He knows that. He knows it’s stupid to feel this way but he can’t help it, the taste of his breakfast turning sour in his mouth with every fond, affectionate smile, touch, or look that Ten gives Johnny.

Kun finishes eating first, probably because he’s not stopping to talk every few minutes, and he takes the opportunity to excuse himself and return to his room. He feels silly for running away when he could’ve just stayed out there and made an effort to speak up instead of shutting himself off, but he can’t help it. It’s never been so hard before. He’s liked Ten for a long time but with how things have changed over the past few weeks, it’s suddenly as if Kun no longer knows how to deal with it and that’s a scary realization.

He needs to sort this out.

He leaves the door open just enough for either of the cats to come in if they want and flops into bed. He stares up at the ceiling and runs through possible distractions: go to the other dorm and see if Dejun will work on a song with him, break out his pack of cards to try mastering a trick he’s been stuck on for the past week, or simply lay here in his own misery.

The last option seems the most appealing even though he can hear Ten’s laughter as it floats down the hall. He closes his eyes, rubs his fingers over them until all he sees when he opens them again are bright red and orange spots dancing over the white ceiling.

Kun sits up, runs a hand through his hair. His fingers bump against his earring and he thumbs over it, considers taking it out because he doesn’t really need to wear it now. He twists the screw on the back but it’s tight from when Ten put it on for him just two days ago. It’s easier when Ten takes it off for him too.

“Stupid,” he mutters again and takes the earring off. He doesn’t need Ten’s help with something so simple.

He looks down at the earring pieces in his palm afterward and sighs. He screws the back onto the post and then gets up to put it away with the rest of his jewelry. He jerks toward the door when he hears Ten loudly shriek Johnny’s name like he’s being murdered or—

Kun doesn’t need to know. He picks up his phone and airpods, sliding the pieces into his ears, and shuts the door.

Maybe a nap will get him out of this funk.

He gets back into bed, blasting music from his phone, and does his best not to think of the way Johnny brushed his fingers over Ten’s earrings.

Kun sleeps longer than intended and wakes up feeling both rested and like he’s just been revived from the dead. One of his earbuds fell out onto the floor. He picks it up and puts them both back into their case and stretches as he stands, groaning at the way his body pops in random places.

He steps out of his room, stops by the bathroom to splash cold water on his face and brush his teeth, and wanders back out into the living room, fully expecting to see Johnny and Ten in the same position as he did only a few hours ago. Instead, it’s just Ten, lounging with both of the cats while watching something on the television, the volume turned low.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Ten says, smiling over at Kun without moving an inch.

“Hey,” Kun says, hovering by the entryway, feeling suddenly awkward that it’s just the two of them. “Did Johnny leave?”

“Yeah, he had lunch plans with Doyoung,” Ten says as he bops Leon on the nose and then runs his palm down his back.

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

Ten hums thoughtfully but then shakes his head. “Not really in the mood to leave the dorm, you know?” he says. “Requires putting on pants.”

That makes Kun snort. He’s not really surprised. Ten likes hanging out with his friends but he also likes staying at home with the cats just as much.

“Are you okay?” Ten asks suddenly and Kun startles, blinking over at him curiously.

“What?” he says and feels strangely pinned by Ten’s unwavering gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says when Ten’s words catch up to him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ten shrugs lightly. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “You don’t usually nap so early in the day and you even closed your door on the cats.” Ten’s mouth twists into a frown. “You never do that.” He points over at Louis who is curled by his knee. “He was whining to get in earlier.”

A gentle wave of guilt courses through Kun for a number of reasons. He wasn’t shutting out the cats. He was, maybe, shutting out Ten. He sighs. He pads over to the couch and perches on the open space by Ten’s feet. He reaches out to stroke down Louis’ back. “Sorry, Louis,” he says, smiling when Louis stretches and walks over to lie down in Kun’s lap instead.

For a few moments, it’s quiet between them, just the sound of the television playing. Kun glances over to watch for a couple of minutes but can’t latch onto anything that’s going on. “What’re you watching?” he asks.

Ten laughs softly. “No idea. It was just playing when I turned it on.”

“How long have you been sitting out here?” Kun asks, glancing around the room. “Is Yangyang in his room? What—”

“Kun-ge,” Ten cuts over him and when Kun glances at him, he’s no longer got that small frown etched onto his face. Instead, he’s smiling, a little amused. “Just be quiet for awhile,” he says as he pulls his feet back to give Kun more room at the end of the couch. “There. Sit. Watch with me.”

Kun hesitates, but only for a second. The way Ten is looking at him, brow quirked, is almost a challenge, like he expects Kun to leave. Well. Kun can’t let Ten think he knows him that well. “All right,” he says and carefully scoots back until he can rest against the couch without disturbing Louis too much. Louis clearly is bothered enough to jump off Kun’s lap and wander away but Kun doesn’t have a chance to feel bad about it because Ten is propping his feet up in his now empty lap, crossing his feet at the ankle.

Kun stares down at his feet, then over at Ten who just grins before turning his attention to the television. Kun tries to fight back the surprise and just accepts this as it is, reminding himself that Ten is like this with everyone. Johnny, yes, but everyone. Yangyang, when he’s in the mood. Hendery, Sicheng, even Dejun. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just Ten, being Ten.

He relaxes. He watches the weird drama Ten’s watching with amusement. They laugh together during the ridiculous parts. Ten yells at the screen when the male lead says something awful to the female lead. Louis eventually wanders back, jumping up onto the armrest by Kun and meowing at him for attention. Kun meows back, gives Louis a few head scritches.

He catches Ten watching from the corner of his eye and looks over. “What?” he asks, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Nothing—” Ten starts but then squints at him and adds, “Did you take out your earring?”

Kun touches his fingers to his ear. “Oh, yeah,” he says. “It was bothering me earlier.” It’s not a complete lie.

That look is back. The twisted frown. The furrow between his brows. Kun doesn’t know what’s wrong but he waits for Ten to say something. Tease him about being able to do it himself. Ask why he didn’t come to Ten like he has every other time for months.

“Guess you don’t need my help anymore, huh?” Ten says but he doesn’t quite meet Kun’s eyes when he says it and it sounds...It sounds all wrong. It’s not teasing, it’s not mocking. It’s almost sad and Kun doesn’t get it. It doesn’t make sense.

“That’s—” He starts because Ten’s wrong, he’s wrong, but the words don’t come out.

It doesn’t matter because Ten is standing up, sliding his legs off Kun’s lap and leaving him feeling suddenly cold. “You know what?” Ten says as he sets Leon onto the floor. “A nap sounds like a great idea right now. Talk to you later, Kun-ge.” He heads down the hall, calling for Leon and Louis to follow him. Both cats go easily, and Kun is left behind in the empty room, confused and alone.

“Okay, we’re gonna start with Kun, Ten, and Winwin,” the photoshoot director says, beckoning the three of them over. “Get your hair and makeup done first and then clothes. You know the drill.”

They do. For the most part, Kun likes photoshoots. He likes that they don’t require too much brain power on days when he’s tired and mentally drained. He’s told what to wear and he just has to provide enough poses to show off his good angles in front of the camera.

Today they’re shuttled into a cramped studio for a SuperElle China photoshoot. The members not yet needed for the shoot get to nap in the van or play games on their phones until the stylist and makeup artists call for them. Kun doesn’t mind going first. He likes getting things over with and he settles into a chair at the makeup station, lets one of the noonas apply foundation and concealer over his skin.

Ten is sitting beside him, tapping on his phone while a stylist does his hair. It’s black again, Ten having gotten it dyed just a few days ago. Kun likes it, but he hasn’t had a chance to tell Ten that. Not that he’s sure he would anyway.

They haven’t really had any one-on-one time since their strange conversation just a few days ago. Ten is still the same though, acting like nothing is wrong, all smiles and snarky comments at Kun’s expense. And maybe nothing is wrong. Maybe it’s just in Kun’s head. So he bickers back and time moves on. He’s glad though, that Sicheng is part of their little group today. Kun doesn’t know how well he would manage being on set with Ten alone.

Ten’s in a good mood, chatting easily with the stylists as they hand him clothes to wear. One of them compliments his tattoos and Ten simultaneously shies away from the attention just as he preens, mumbling out a “Thanks,” and shrugging on the thin, practically see-through navy shirt they want him to wear.

“Is something wrong?” Sicheng asks suddenly, pulling Kun back down to Earth. He’s already dressed and his makeup and hair are done. He looks good, even as he furrows his brows at Kun in concern.

“Huh?”

“You keep looking at Ten like something’s bothering you,” Sicheng says and Kun lets out a small laugh, reaching up to run his hand through his hair only to quickly put it back down, not wanting the stylists to yell at him for messing up their hard work.

“It’s nothing,” he says, smiling as he pats Sicheng’s shoulder. When Sicheng’s gaze turns a bit dubious, Kun insists, “Really. I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

Sicheng hums thoughtfully. He looks back over at Ten who is taking a selca, showing off the rings on his fingers, and then back over at Kun. “If you say so,” he says with the air of someone who knows more than they’re letting on.

Kun’s kind of afraid to ask. Sometimes he thinks it would be helpful to confide in someone but he’s the leader, he’s the eldest in the group. He shouldn’t bother the younger members with personal matters like this.

As if Sicheng can read his thoughts, he bumps Kun lightly with an elbow and says, “If you have something to say to Ten, then you should just say it. You know how he is. I think he’d rather you just be direct.”

Kun bites his lip, watching as Ten bounds over to where Hendery is hunched over his phone on a ratty couch in the corner. Hendery practically knocks him away for bothering him in the middle of a game but Ten just laughs, undeterred. Kun quickly drags his eyes away. It’s not quick enough if the little smirk on Sicheng’s lips is any indication. He definitely knows too much.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally says, feeling a little like he’s being assessed through a microscope.

Sicheng pats his back lightly and steps away when a stylist calls for him, holding up a few pieces of jewelry. Kun sighs, shaking his head as if that will help rid him of all the messy thoughts, and lets another stylist pull him over to make sure his outfit is properly tucked and fitted. Ten and Sicheng are already on set while Kun gets a few last-minute changes and then a stylist is stepping up to change his earring for him.

Ever since the other day, Kun hasn’t asked Ten for help with his earring. He’s done it himself when he needed to put it on and take it off. In some ways, Kun feels like he regained a bit of control by doing it himself. In others, he misses the strange, frustrating intimacy of Ten’s fingers on him.

When the stylist switches his earring out for a pretty, dangly diamond piece, Kun doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t notice the temperature of her fingers or if her touch lingers against his skin. He doesn’t notice the shape of her mouth or the color of her eyes. It’s over in an instant and then he’s deemed acceptable for the shoot and shooed away to the set.

He does notice Ten’s eyes immediately as he walks over, so sharp that Kun almost stops in his tracks, pinned in place by the intensity.

“Come on, Kun, let’s go,” the photographer calls and Kun forces himself to join the others on set, dropping his eyes down to his feet even though he can still feel Ten watching him.

The shoot goes well enough. Kun feels kind of stiff in the beginning, his mind elsewhere, running over what Sicheng said and distracted by the way Ten is told to drape an arm around his waist. During a short break, he rubs his fingers at his temples and forces himself to snap out of it. He doesn’t want to cause any trouble for the shoot.

When the photographer picks the camera up again, Kun is much more relaxed. He doesn’t flinch when Ten touches him and he lets himself have fun, flaunting off his looks and the clothes, leaning against Sicheng and laughing when Sicheng almost stumbles over from the sudden weight.

“All right, we’ll do some solo shots now,” the photographer says. “Winwin, you’re first.”

Sicheng gives the crew a little salute that makes everyone laugh. Kun walks off set first and heads for the table in the corner that’s covered in some snacks and bottles of water. He doesn’t realize Ten’s followed him until after he’s taken a few gulps from a bottle and Ten sidles in next to him, grabs the bottle from his hand and takes a drink, too.

Kun’s eyes drop to Ten’s mouth, glossy and pink from the makeup, and then to where his throat bobs as he swallows. He looks away, eyes scanning over all of the snacks, wondering if he has time to eat anything now or if he should wait until after his solo shoot is done.

“Pretty,” Ten says suddenly, and Kun snaps his gaze back over to him. He’s expecting Ten to be talking about Sicheng or something, watching his shoot, but Ten’s looking at Kun. He screws the cap back onto the water bottle and then reaches out to flick Kun’s dangly earring with a finger. “Looks good.”

Kun feels his chest tighten. He knows he looks good, but it’s Ten who’s pretty, each of his nine earrings shining under the studio lights, eyes shimmering with gold, necklace falling right to the center of his chest where his shirt hangs mostly open, revealing smooth, pale skin. “Yeah,” Kun croaks out. “It’s nice.” He reaches up to touch the earring and startles when he realizes Ten hasn’t quite moved his hand.

Ten laughs softly, bumping Kun’s hand out of the way as he takes one step closer. Then two. The toes of their shoes bump together. Kun could probably count Ten’s eyelashes.

“I thought it was my job to put these on for you,” Ten says, rubbing his thumb over the earring and along the side of Kun’s ear.

Kun stares at him, stunned. Ten sounds...Well, he sounds like he’s jealous, like he doesn’t want anyone else to do this for Kun, even though just days ago, Ten said Kun no longer needed his help. It doesn’t make any sense and yet—

“You were already on set so…” Kun says softly, wrapping his fingers around Ten’s wrist and pulling his hand down to their sides. He should let go, probably, but he doesn’t, instead lets his fingers lightly trail up Ten’s palm until he’s able to lace their fingers together.

Ten doesn’t waver from Kun’s touch. He shifts even closer. His breath is warm against Kun’s ear when he leans in to speak. “Then next time you should wait for me,” Ten says and he gives Kun’s fingers a small squeeze.

When he pulls back, it’s with a playful little smile. The director calls for Ten and the moment is over. Ten flits away like a hummingbird, leaving Kun breathless as he watches him chat with the photographer.

“You guys are so dumb,” Sicheng says as he approaches and for the first time all day, Kun feels himself settle, like he finally, truly understands what’s going on.

“Don’t talk to your leader like that,” Kun chides but it’s mild. He meets Ten’s eyes on set. When Ten smiles, Kun grins back.

Kun has always been a bit of a go-getter. He’s not afraid to try new things, whether it’s buying a drone and figuring out how to fly it or getting on an airplane and flying himself. If he wants to learn something, he does it and he does it well. He’s confident in his skills.

So why is talking to Ten so different?

Of course, telling Ten the truth about how he feels carries more weight than the usual things Kun tries. Telling Ten he likes him comes with caveats—how will it affect the team? How will the company handle it? How will they hide it from the fans?

How will Ten reply?

The fear of rejection is probably what keeps Kun from simply barging into Ten’s room and laying himself bare. He can’t do that. No matter how hopeful he feels that Ten likes him too, he’s still afraid that Ten will look at him with pitiful eyes and tell him that he doesn’t feel the same.

Days pass in a blur of schedules, their workload getting busier and heavier with their album release around the corner. Ten spends more time in the dance rooms than any of them and Kun sticks behind to work with their producers on last minute recordings and music changes. They complete their album photoshoots with minimal conflict, record an interview for another Chinese magazine, and run through choreo together until their feet are sore and all they can do upon returning home is collapse in bed.

They film their MV on a cool October day and celebrate Yangyang’s birthday on set after they wrap everything up, so Kun doesn’t scold Ten and Hendery for smashing Yangyang’s face into the cake. Yangyang chases them around the studio while Sicheng films on his phone and Dejun helps Kun cut the remainder of the cake into small slices. With the MV done, it’s clear everyone feels a weight lifted from their shoulders. The final part of the album is completed. Everything else is out of their hands until promotions start. Kun eats cake with a smile on his face and doesn’t throw a fit when Ten sneakily comes up beside him to swipe frosting across Kun’s cheek.

“Yah, Ten!” he laughs, too relaxed to get mad. Ten looks too gleeful anyway and Kun doesn’t want to ruin the moment for the whole group. “You’re so troublesome,” he sighs and uses a finger to wipe the frosting from his cheek and, without thinking, licks the frosting off his finger.

And it’s only because he’s watching Ten that he sees the way Ten’s eyes grow wide at the action, the way a faint blush appears across his cheeks. Kun feels heat flood his veins from the attention and he slowly pulls his finger out when it’s clean. The movement seems to startle Ten, who lets out a short, almost awkward laugh, before he turns away as quickly as he appeared, demanding a slice of cake for himself.

Kun bites his lip, considering. The look on Ten’s face sticks with him for a few days after, until he finally comes to the conclusion that he needs to clear the air between them. He wants to know what Ten’s thinking, what he’s feeling. If, in any way possible, it’s the same as Kun.

There’s only another two weeks until the album releases and it’s better to figure this out now rather than later when they’ll be booked with performances and TV shows and interviews.

Kun’s still a little afraid. He doesn’t know how to approach the topic, so in the end, he figures he should go back to what he knows. What’s familiar.

He picks out an earring and he asks Ten for help.

Of course he picks a terrible time because Ten’s not even home, having gone to the dance rooms a few hours ago to work on something with their choreographer for fun. Kun distracts himself by playing with the cats and then dragging Yangyang out of his room to watch something. When Ten returns in the afternoon, he’s flushed from exertion but his smile is satisfied, like he’s accomplished what he wanted.

“Are you watching Sherlock again?” he laughs as he crouches down to pet Louis and Leon.

“Kun-ge made me,” Yangyang says with a sigh and Kun sputters, half-heartedly thwacking Yangyang in the arm.

Ten looks between them, amused. “I’m gonna shower and I’ll join you guys,” he says as he stands, stretching slightly before he sighs and heads down the hall. The cats follow after and Kun can hear Ten fighting with them playfully so they don’t follow him into the bathroom.

“Well, he’s home now so can I go back to my room?” Yangyang says when they hear the door shut down the hall.

“What?” Kun says, looking up at Yangyang in surprise as he stands.

“I know you were waiting around to talk to him about something,” Yangyang says. “You’re too obvious when you want a distraction.” He glances down at his phone and then back at Kun. “Well, this was fun. I’m going back to my games.”

Kun slumps back against the couch. He sits there for a few minutes before eventually turning off the television and returning to his room, picking up Louis from where he’s curled in front of the bathroom door and bringing him along. He lounges in bed, stroking Louis’ back while he answers a few missed texts. He hears the shower cut off and Ten’s voice as he hums Kick Back. The door opens and his voice gets louder as he walks to his bedroom.

Kun waits awhile longer. He doesn’t want to accost Ten right away. He watches the time pass away on his phone. One minute, two. Once a full ten minutes have come and gone, Kun gets to his feet, unable to wait any longer.

He pulls the earring from his pocket and heads to Ten’s door. It’s slightly ajar so he knocks lightly, pushing it open further as he steps into the doorway. “Hey,” he says. “Do you have a moment?”

Ten turns around, drying his hair on a towel. His hair’s gotten longer and a few stray droplets of water drips down onto the thin, white t-shirt he’s pulled on. He’s wearing those tiny shorts again and he looks soft and fresh. Kun aches to touch him everywhere.

“Sure,” Ten says, tossing the towel over the back of his desk chair. “What’s up?”

Kun holds up the earring. “Put this on for me?” he asks.

Ten looks surprised. Kun doesn’t blame him. He hasn’t asked for help in nearly a month now. The longest time since this whole thing between them started. For a moment, he almost expects Ten to refuse, to say something like you can do it yourself now, right? But the surprise fades away, smoothly replaced by a warm, almost wistful smile. He flops down on the bed and pats the space beside him. “Come here,” he says.

Kun sits to Ten’s right, so it’s easier for him to reach for his earring. Ten immediately works on removing the earring Kun’s still wearing, a simple pair that he’s had on for awhile. His fingers are a little cool from his shower and when he leans in closer, water from his hair drips onto Kun’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Ten laughs as he unscrews the earring and leans back so he can drop the pieces into Kun’s palm. He picks up the new earring and removes the backing with nimble, practiced fingers.

Kun twists the backing onto the other pair. His eyes drop to Ten’s bare thighs, his knees. There looks like a small bruise forming there and he wonders where he got it, if it was from the dorm or from dance. “What did you practice today?” he asks, remembering.

“I did a cover of the new Doja Cat song,” Ten says. Pride laces his voice. “I posted a video on Instagram already, didn’t you see?”

Kun laughs. “What? Do you think I have your post notifications on or something?”

“If you don’t, you should,” Ten says as he slides the post of the earring through Kun’s piercing. “Keep track of your bandmates like a good leader, Kun-ge.”

“You just like the attention.”

“Make sure you like my post, too.”

Kun rolls his eyes but he knows he will. He likes everything Ten does. Even when he’s cheeky and mouthy and competitive, even when he confuses Kun with how he’s affectionate one day and completely distant another. He likes Ten’s confidence and his shamelessness, and he likes how gentle he can be too, taking care of the cats and the other members in a different way than Kun does.

Kun glances over at him as Ten carefully rolls the backing onto the earring. He likes how Ten has been doing this for him for months without complaint. He likes the tender touch of his fingers and the gleam in his eyes when their gazes meet. Ten is spirited and passionate, soft and loving, and Kun just likes him so much. He wants to experience every facet of Ten’s personality, wants to learn everything about him, wants to make him laugh and wants to rile him up.

Kun wants all of Ten. They’re so close again. Kun’s knee presses against Ten’s. Ten’s hands drop back to his lap. The earring is secured in Kun’s ear. Ten’s mouth is so—

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?”

The words filter through Kun’s overflowing thoughts like a siren. He blinks. Stares. Ten’s staring back at him. There’s a smug curl to his lips that wasn’t there a second ago. “W-What?” Kun manages to say.

“I mean, it looks like you want to kiss me,” Ten says and he glances down at his lap, wringing his hands together for a moment. When he looks back up, his expression is hopeful. “Do you?”

“Ten—”

“It’s okay if you do,” Ten says and his voice is slowly becoming more steady, more confident. “I want you to kiss me.”

Kun feels like he’s frozen in place. He’s not even sure he’s breathing. He didn’t expect this to happen. He had a speech prepared. Sort of. He had things to say.

“Come on, Kun-ge,” Ten says, sliding a hand across Kun’s thigh. His touch is like fire through Kun’s sweats. “Kiss me already before I die of old—”

Kun kisses him. Ten’s mouth is warm and soft and pliant under Kun’s, yielding easily as Kun slides a hand along his nape and kisses him deeper. Kun can’t believe this is really happening, that he’s actually feeling those plush, pretty lips against his own. Ten makes a tiny noise as he kisses back, his hand at Kun’s thigh squeezing tightly for a moment before he’s suddenly cupping Kun’s face with both hands, turning him how he wants and it’s impossible to tell if he’s leading or if Ten’s leading or if they’re taking turns, falling into an easy, enthusiastic sort of dance.

“Fuck, Kun,” Ten gasps out when they naturally break apart.

“Is this really—”

“Shh, don’t ruin the moment,” Ten chides him, pinching Kun’s ear.

Kun scoffs, but he also doesn’t want to stop. He can barely pull away, like his mouth is magnetized to Ten’s, trading soft, tiny kisses as they gather their wits. “We should—ah—we should talk about this,” he says even though kissing Ten more is quickly taking priority over anything else.

“Later,” Ten says, kissing the corner of Kun’s mouth. “I promise.” He pulls back just enough to evenly meet Kun’s eyes. “Just kiss me.”

And Kun can’t really say no to that.

Kissing Ten feels completely natural. It’s easy to coax his lips apart, to slide his tongue into his mouth, to swallow down the gasped moans that emerge from his throat. It’s hot and desperate and eager and maybe Ten is right. This is enough for now.

When Ten wraps his arms around Kun’s neck and slowly leans back, Kun lets himself get pulled down onto the bed with him. He groans softly into Ten’s mouth as he slides his hands down Ten’s soft thighs to grasp at his waist and again when Ten hooks his leg around Kun’s hip.

The familiar flicker of arousal heats up in Kun’s veins and he’s only just wondering how far they should go when the door slams all the way open and Yangyang says, “Hey, did you guys see this text from—Oh my GOD.”

Ten jerks away, effectively breaking their kiss. Kun groans again but for a completely different reason. He drops his forehead against Ten’s shoulder. “Yangyang!” Ten shouts. “Whatever it is can wait!!”

“Oh my god!” Yangyang is still screeching. “You guys can’t do this to me! I live here!”

“This is my room,” Ten shouts.

“Like that will stop you guys from fucking in the kitchen or something!”

“Yangyang, out!”

“FINE. I need to bleach my eyes anyway!”

Kun hears the sounds of Yangyang stomping out of the room. The door slams shut. Silence rings loudly between them for a few long moments. Kun feels partly mortified, partly amused, still hiding against Ten’s shoulder. It’s not until Ten starts gently threading his fingers through Kun’s hair does he finally look up. Their eyes meet and it’s like a dam breaks between them. They both burst out laughing.

Ten curls away to cackle into his pillow while Kun sits back up, his hands still settled at Ten’s waist. He rubs his fingers along the smooth skin where Ten’s shirt has risen up.

Before either of them can even say anything, Ten’s phone suddenly starts beeping incessantly from where it’s sitting atop his desk. Kun looks over at it and smirks. “Well, I guess the secret is out,” he says as he turns back to Ten.

Ten peers up at him critically. “Was it supposed to stay a secret?”

“I don’t—Well, that’s something I figured we would be talking about,” Kun admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s not like the rest of them will care,” Ten says softly.

“I know,” Kun says. And he does know. They wouldn’t be bothered about this in any way aside from how Yangyang was just bothered. “I suppose it’s easier if everyone knows.”

“Look at it this way,” Ten says as he sits back up too, crossing his legs in front of him. “We don’t have to sit them down for a family meeting to announce it. I bet that’s what you wanted to do and I would’ve vetoed it anyway because that's even more embarrassing than Yangyang catching us making out.”

Ten says everything so matter-of-factly that it’s difficult to argue with him. Kun can’t help but laugh. “You’re right,” he says, because Ten makes a good point and he already feels better about it.

“Of course I am,” Ten says, smug.

Kun smiles at him. He knows it’s probably disgustingly fond, he can see the way Ten’s eyes shift as he watches him, the way his cheeks flush, like he’s suddenly embarrassed just from the way Kun’s looking at him. “Ten—”

“Wait,” Ten says quickly, holding up his hands. “Don’t—”

“I like you,” Kun continues, confidence bursting throughout his body.

“Oh my god,” Ten says and it comes out like a mix of a groan and an incredulous laugh.

“I like you,” Kun repeats, grinning now, because catching Ten off guard is one of his favorite things to do. He reaches out to hold one of Ten’s hands, laces their fingers together. “I’ve liked you for a long time. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. I want to hold your hand like this and share my life with you.” He laughs a little, shaking his head. “We kind of do that already, but you know. Even more. I—”

“Shut up,” Ten croaks out. “Shut up, shutup, shutup—”

Ten tackles him onto the bed again, climbing into Kun’s lap and pressing their mouths together. Kun thinks he might get addicted to kissing Ten. It might be a problem. But that’s something for future Kun to work through. Right now, he will happily indulge himself in the slick, warm, sweet taste of Ten’s lips against his.

“In case it’s not obvious,” Ten says in between kisses. “I like you too, you complete idiot.”

“Hey,” Kun protests, only mildly offended.

“Do you think I would just help anyone put on a stupid earring for as long as I have with you?”

Well. “You helped Yangyang,” Kun mutters, not quite meeting Ten’s eyes.

“Yangyang’s my son,” Ten says seriously. Kun would laugh if he didn’t feel a little dizzy from Ten’s confession. “You...You’re different.”

Kun licks his lips. He runs a hand up and down Ten’s back. “How different?” he asks quietly.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t do this with Yangyang,” Ten says as he pointedly slides his hands under Kun’s shirt and leans down to bite over Kun’s piercing. The sharp sensation travels straight to Kun’s dick.

“Fuck,” he groans.

Ten cackles, bright and beautiful. His phone starts beeping again but is quickly drowned out by the sudden deafening boom from down the hall. Hendery’s loud voice follows the ruckus.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Ten says and he makes to move off Kun’s lap but Kun quickly grabs his hips and holds him in place.

“Let’s just stay here,” he says.

Ten laughs again but it’s softer, kinder. “Come on, Kun-ge,” he says, easily snaking out of Kun’s hold and dragging him off the bed. “Let’s go tell everyone how you’re madly in love with me.”

“Excuse me,” Kun objects loudly. “When did I ever—”

“You didn’t have to,” Ten says, patting his cheek. “It was implied.”

He opens the door. The rest of WayV practically stumble over at his feet.

“Haha, fancy meeting you here,” Hendery says as he bolts upright.

Ten rolls his eyes but his mouth twitches at the corner. His mouth that’s shiny and swollen from Kun’s lips. Because Kun kissed him. A lot. A flicker of pride runs up his spine. He wonders how long it’ll take to get used to this.

“Get out of my way,” Ten says as he squeezes past Dejun and Yangyang. Everyone but Sicheng runs after him, yelling about ten different questions a second.

Sicheng leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms as he looks back at Kun. “Madly in love, huh?” he asks, quirking a brow.

Kun feels his face heat up. “Shut up,” he says, brusquely walking past him.

In the kitchen, he finds Ten holding Louis in his arms and dodging the questions the rest of the group are throwing at him, practically running around the room and holding Louis up as a shield when necessary. When Ten notices him, he mouths, save me, before Hendery’s grabbing him from behind in an effort to get Ten to stop moving and, well, maybe madly in love isn’t all that far off.

But Kun will keep that to himself for now.

“Hey, do you mind putting this on for me?”

Kun looks up from where he’s been scrolling through Instagram on his phone, sitting on the edge of his hotel room bed when Ten walks out of the bathroom. He almost groans aloud at the sight of him, wearing a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else. The curl of Ten’s lips tells him it’s on purpose.

“Did you hear me?” Ten asks in a lilting voice and Kun blinks a few times, lets his brain recalibrate. When he realizes Ten’s holding up an earring, he laughs.

“Oh,” he says, setting his phone aside. “Yeah, of course.”

He expects Ten to sit beside him on the bed but Ten clearly has other ideas, climbing straight into Kun’s lap instead. And, well, it’s not like Kun is going to complain. Ten hands him the earring and Kun unscrews the little ball on the back, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of on a nearly naked Ten sitting in his lap.

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since they kissed, three weeks since Kun confessed, three weeks since Ten told him he felt the same. Three weeks of having Ten as his boyfriend. His boyfriend! Three weeks of teasing and lewd comments from the other members and three weeks of Yangyang accidentally walking in on them making out in various parts of the dorm.

It’s been one of the most eventful periods of time in Kun’s entire life but he wouldn’t change anything for the world.

They’re in Beijing now. The album has been released and promotions are in full swing. It was easy to secure a room at the hotel with Ten since the rest of the group didn’t want to get in their way. Kun appreciates it while also partly wishing he could have shared with someone else. Not that he doesn’t want to spend his time with Ten, alone, but spending time with Ten alone is maybe bad for his health.

Kun slides the post of the earring through the hole in Ten’s ear. He carefully screws on the backing, making sure it’s tight and secure, and rubs his fingers over the earring when he’s done. Ten sighs at the touch, leaning into it like he’s a cat being petted, and Kun can’t help it. Now that he can, it’s so easy to do it. He tilts his chin up and kisses Ten softly, gently, letting himself melt into Ten’s warm embrace, hands sliding up Kun’s back, thighs pressed snug on either side of Kun’s legs. Kun’s free hand settles naturally at the small of Ten’s back and he can feel the heat of his body radiating through his skin.

They break apart for air, but only for a moment, Ten pulling Kun back for more with a hand curled into the front of his shirt. Kun is definitely growing addicted to these kisses. How can he not? When Ten gives them so passionately and so eagerly, making Kun dizzy with desire. They move instinctively, parting again just long enough for Kun’s shirt to get dragged over his head and tossed to the floor, and Kun is winding one arm around Ten’s waist while the other cups under his ass, lifting him from his lap and swiftly pressing him onto his back against the mattress.

Ten laughs, eyes ablaze as he looks up at Kun and tugs him straight down on top of him. “Are you trying to show off your strength, Kun-ge?” he teases, dancing his fingers up Kun’s spine.

“Why? Did you enjoy it?” Kun returns easily, mouthing along the column of Ten’s neck.

“No,” Ten says petulantly but he doesn’t meet Kun’s eyes.

Kun hums thoughtfully, drawing a path with his lips up along Ten’s jaw. He kisses the corner of his mouth and says, “You’re not fooling me,” and then presses his mouth to the lobe of his left ear. Ten shudders in a breath but doesn’t stop him. Kun indulges in something he’s wanted to do for months, laving his tongue over Ten’s piercings, one by one. The tangy taste of metal isn’t the most pleasant, but the way Ten squirms under him, digs his nails into Kun’s back, and lets out a whimpering moan definitely is and makes waiting for the opportunity all the more worth it.

“You like my piercings, don’t you?” Ten says, clearly trying to gain some leverage.

Kun bites down against the shell of his ear, just hard enough to make Ten gasp, arch his back up against him. Kun can feel Ten’s arousal clearly against his hip. That’s new territory altogether, but Kun is happy to welcome it.

“Maybe—” Ten says, brushing a hand up Kun’s back, over the nape of his neck and into his hair. He grips tight and pulls. “Maybe,” he continues, when he’s got Kun looking down at him, “I should get more.” Kun swallows, unable to look away from the fiery power of Ten’s gaze. “Oh,” Ten says, a wicked grin forming at his lips. “What if I get a tongue piercing so when I suck your cock—”

“Fuck,” Kun groans, surging forward to shut Ten up with his mouth.

It’s the most effective and enjoyable method. Ten doesn’t seem to mind, his laughter bubbling away into a moan as he kisses back.

“You’re a goddamn demon,” Kun mutters.

“But you like that, don’t you?” Ten returns smoothly. “You like me.”

Kun does. He really, truly does. But he won’t give Ten the satisfaction of saying it right now. Instead, he kisses him again, which probably says more than enough anyway. Ten accepts it, returning Kun’s kiss with unbridled fervor, hands roaming across Kun’s chest, his back, even dragging the heel of his foot over the curve of Kun’s ass. Minutes pass like this, maybe even hours, until Ten is grinding up against him and it’s impossible to ignore that he’s hard and that Kun is getting there, too.

Before he can do anything about it, Ten groans, “Kun, are you gonna touch me or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

A wave of want courses through Kun’s veins. It takes some effort but he forces himself to pull back up, kneeling between Ten’s legs so he can look down at him properly. “You want me to?” he asks, to be sure.

“Obviously,” Ten scoffs with a little eye roll. He yelps though when Kun pinches his thigh. “Yes,” he says more soberly. “Yes, I want you to.”

Kun lets out a deep breath. “Okay,” he says, trying to build up the nerve. “Okay. Let me, uh—”

Ten laughs, amused. “I’ll help you,” he says before easily shimmying out of his underwear, kicking it off his ankle and to the floor. He flops back into bed, stretching out comfortably against the sheets, proudly naked, his cock hard against his stomach.

Kun stares, mesmerized. He runs a hand up Ten’s thigh and back down to his knee, goosebumps appearing in his wake. “You’re beautiful,” he says, quietly, reverently, heart pounding in his chest at the sight of him, at the pretty flush that spreads from his chest to his cheeks.

“I know,” Ten mutters, clearly trying to be smug despite his embarrassment.

“Really,” Kun insists, leaning down to find his lips. “You are.”

Ten sighs into his mouth as he kisses back but is soon whining, “You’re still not touching me.”

“You’re such an impatient brat,” Kun chides, shaking his head.

“Kun,” Ten says, “Please.”

Kun throws all caution to the wind. He slides his hand down Ten’s chest, tracing along the shape of his tattoo, thumb brushing over his navel, feeling the way Ten’s body breathes underneath him, before finally wrapping his fingers around Ten’s cock. He’s hard and hot in his palm and Ten lets out a throaty little whine at the first touch. Kun watches with greedy eyes as Ten trembles and groans, grasping Kun’s free hand tight around the wrist, biting his lower lip, eyelashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his gaze on Kun.

Just watching him like this is enough to fill Kun’s body with yearning. He wants to take Ten apart with his hands and his mouth and his cock and put him back together again afterward. He wants to give Ten whatever it is he wants, make him forget about anything and anyone else except for Kun. He wishes they had the time, wishes he could do all the things filling his mind, but they have an early morning and packed schedule and Kun is desperate but not irresponsible. This is enough for now. More than enough.

“Kun,” Ten gasps as Kun rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, strokes him a little faster, a little tighter. “Baby, please, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” Kun says, voice thick, leaning down to kiss him again. “Does it feel good?”

“Fuck, yes,” Ten groans, teeth catching on Kun’s bottom lip, dragging down his neck until he bites into Kun’s collarbone. He laughs when Kun curses and teases back, “Feels good?”

Kun doesn’t answer. He captures Ten’s mouth with his again, feels his own arousal tight against the front of his jeans, begging for release. But he can wait. He wants to make Ten come apart first.

And he does, a few minutes later, tugging tightly at Kun’s hair as he comes over Kun’s fingers with a muffled shout into Kun’s mouth. He goes taut for a moment, then slowly relaxes, minute quivers pulsing through his body. Kun is in awe of him.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes out, pressing one last lingering kiss to Ten’s lips before he pulls back. There’s a box of tissues on the nightstand between the two beds and he reaches over to grab a few to wipe his hands. He’s only pulled one out when Ten is suddenly rubbing his palm over the shape of Kun’s cock through the front of his jeans. “Fuck,” Kun gasps, looking down at where Ten’s touching, slowly stroking him through the fabric.

“Let me see you, too,” Ten says and Kun forgets all about cleaning up in favor of helping Ten undo the button and zipper on his pants. Ten seems even more eager than him, reaching his hand down his underwear and pulling his cock out from the top, fingers curling around the base and dragging up.

Kun groans, gripping Ten’s waist with his messy hand while the other frantically smacks up onto the headboard behind the bed for purchase. He can’t do anything except watch as Ten jerks him off, going fast for a few seconds before deliberately slowing his pace, letting out a breathy chuckle when Kun curses again.

“Next time,” Ten says leisurely like Kun isn’t losing his mind right now, “I wanna suck you off.”

“Oh my god,” Kun moans in English, which only makes Ten laugh even more fully.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Kun-ge?” Ten asks, pressing his thumb against the slit of Kun’s cock. Kun swallows and nods, because he would. “Tell me,” Ten demands.

“Yes,” Kun gasps. “Yes, I’d like it, of course I would, it’s you.”

“Then come for me, Kun-ge,” Ten coaxes, leaning up to get his mouth on Kun’s ear, over his earring, tongue hot and wet against his skin. “Come for me.”

It only takes a few more strokes before Kun follows through with Ten’s request, spilling onto Ten’s stomach and adding to the mess already there. Kun shudders through his orgasm, his hand slipping from the headboard until he practically collapses atop of Ten, who groans weakly in protest before letting Kun kiss him again, sweetly, tenderly, until they’re mostly just smiling into each other’s mouths instead of kissing at all.

Kun feels like he's floating a little as they clean up and put on clean pajamas, bumping each other’s hips as they brush their teeth in the bathroom. Ten drags Kun to sleep in the clean, undisturbed bed, wrapping his arms around Kun’s waist and rubbing his cheek into Kun’s shoulder. Kun smiles into the darkness, runs his fingers through Ten’s hair, and feels like nothing could get better than this.

“Actually,” Ten says, after a couple comfortable minutes of silence, “maybe you should get your tongue pierced.”

“Ten,” Kun says, pained, even as Ten trembles in his mirth next to him, “shut up.”

“Make me,” Ten retorts, and Kun looks down at him and does.