Fine {DoTae} | complete

One

Doyoung twists the ring on his forefinger. It's a habit he relies on too much and his skin burns. He counts each circle and tries to breathe in the same rhythm, but the darkness doesn't help, and neither does the bitter wind. His cheeks burn even worse. He thinks it's funny how the cold can be just as vicious as curling flames while he stuffs his hands in his pockets and lets his head fall back against the wall. Stars blink down at him.

His breaths come louder now, almost loud enough to block out the blur of people around the stadium. A group of girls dressed in neon green, arms full of lightsticks and banners and posters, stagger past him and he closes his eyes, keeping still until their squeals and shrieks fade away. He exhales shakily, then shudders and tucks his chin into his coat collar when a particularly icy gust of wind attacks him.

His eyes sting and he grits his teeth.

He can't cry. Not on his birthday.

Not on the first night of Taeyong's world tour.

"There you are, sweetie." Doyoung knew it wouldn't take Sanghee long to track him down, and a smile ghosts his lips before the wind snatches it away once more. "Come inside, you must be freezing. What were you thinking, hanging around outside?"

He wasn't thinking at all – that's the problem. Or perhaps he was thinking too much. That wouldn't be new.

Doyoung lets himself be led back into the building and Sanghee talks while they weave through narrow corridors with flickering lights and too many boxes and cables stacked up to be safe. She only ever scolds when she's worried, so Doyoung doesn't take her words to heart. Rather, he grasps them tight and tucks them away for a later date.

"Taeyong is worried, too. He came off stage and immediately wanted to know your whereabouts." Sanghee brushes a crease from Doyoung's coat and he tries not to wince.

Of course Taeyong is worried. Doyoung has a habit of going missing.

But tonight should be about Taeyong, not him. It's Taeyong's concert, Taeyong's tour, Taeyong's career. And Doyoung is just a tagalong.

"He's got plans for tomorrow," Sanghee says with a wink, and the trails of golden leaves hanging from her ears sway, the earrings glinting just as bright as the mischief in her eyes. "Don't think he's forgotten about you, love."

With that said, Sanghee leaves to help the stylists pack away the makeup palettes and rows of jewellery. Doyoung twists the ring again. He pauses to feel every jewel on the top, then the initials engraved underneath, letting peace wash over him before he pushes the door to Taeyong's dressing room open and is greeted by chaos.

Clothes hang all over the place, bags are dumped around and there's no space left on the sofa thanks to the huge case of canned coffee and energy drinks. Doyoung scans the room and doesn't have time to start searching for his boyfriend before he's tackled into a hug that knocks the breath out of him, and a familiar warmth seeps into his bones.

"Hey," Taeyong whispers, and Doyoung hugs him back. "What did you think?" There's a rasp to Taeyong's voice that wasn't there before, as though each hour on stage grated away another layer of his idol persona until he was left raw, now shaking in Doyoung's arms.

"You were amazing." Doyoung makes sure to squeeze Taeyong extra tight to soothe the final shockwaves.

They pull away. Taeyong's forehead has been dabbed dry of sweat and his eyes wiped clear of makeup. Transformed from glittery eyeshadow and bold eyeliner to pale skin and dark circles, he's been stripped bare of a mask, but Doyoung loves both. Loves the raw, real Taeyong even more, in fact, and his stomach swoops when Taeyong leans in to briefly peck his lips.