Fine {DoTae} | complete

Eleven

TW for ED thoughts again :c

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

They may have been advised to keep apart, but from the following morning onwards they don't let go. They become near extensions of each other, so full of each other's love that neither knows which heart is their own, and Doyoung wishes he could stay in bed with Taeyong forever. It's a brutally early start for the day after a concert and Taeyong leans on him for the duration of breakfast. He forces his medication down, then slips on the mask of happiness when the concert vlog starts, even as his eyes glaze over and his dance moves weaken during rehearsals. He gleams, showing the fans the stage setup and climbing the steps to the seats at the top of the arena to show the view from there with a laugh. He crawls back to Doyoung after and sleeps on his shoulder for a while before Doyoung helps him lay down so he doesn't get a sore neck. Doyoung lets him go, lets the fans' screams engulf his thoughts as he closes his eyes to catch some sleep himself.

Concerts pass, plane flights become a routine that Doyoung succumbs to, the jet lag fuses into a constant state of exhaustion that ceases to bother him, and it's not until they reach Thailand that they have another real chance to relax together. The couple get to share a room, the staff ultimately won over by their attachment to each other, and the day after the final concert is cleared of schedules.

Doyoung wakes up first, but Taeyong's body has him pinned to the bed. Eyes closed and cheek squished into Doyoung's chest, Taeyong has the face of an angel and Doyoung can't bring himself to disturb him, so he lays perfectly still until Taeyong's breathing changes and he starts to stir. At first, he doesn't notice Doyoung is awake and just rolls off him to curl into a ball, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then he decides to stretch and, releasing a little puff of air, he turns to Doyoung.

"Oh, good morning," Taeyong says, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms above his head again.

"Morning," Doyoung replies.

Taeyong blinks like a sleepy cat, then rolls back onto Doyoung and nuzzles into his neck as though sucking up his warmth, and Doyoung pulls him closer to let him do just that. Taeyong's bare back is warm, the skin smooth under his fingers. His legs prickle where they tangle with Taeyong's, then settle when he lets the fuzziness take over again, sleep too tempting to deny. The stuffed bear had fallen to the floor in the night. It stares unblinking up at Doyoung, and it's Taeyong who rescues him.

"Hello," Taeyong says from behind the toy, voice high-pitched to imitate the character. "I'm Pooh. What's your name?"

"Stop it," Doyoung says, but he giggles as he pushes Taeyong away. He reclaims the bear and pulls it to his chest, pressing his face into the soft fur.

Taeyong huffs. "Did you just replace me?" He sits up against the headboard, hair sticking out from finally catching the sleep he deserves.

Doyoung releases a noncommittal hum that earns him a jab in the ribs. He keeps his eyes shut, pretends he didn't notice, and smiles to himself when Taeyong headbutts his shoulder just as predicted. The scene feels too domestic, too intimate, for a hotel room. Looking up at the ceiling, he notices where the cream, floral wallpaper peels in the corner, a detail he would know like the back of his hand if it were at home. There's no routine to a hotel, where their comfort is business, a trade of money for a place to rest their heads at night, and the scent of washing powder is temporary and soon forgotten by the time they crash at the next location.

Home. The concept is suddenly strange. The word runs laps through Doyoung's mind. He lets Taeyong push the bear aside to make space to lounge across his chest, claiming the spot. Again, the weight is a gentle tug on his mind as he resurfaces fully and becomes alert to the world. He hears Taeyong's breathing. He hears the distant hum of traffic, voices from other hotel guests, faint piano music that twinkles through the walls. His own breaths sync with Taeyong's. They could lay together all day. Taeyong must think so too, because when Doyoung looks down at him, his eyes are shut again. His limbs go slack and Doyoung smiles fondly, a hand coming up to stroke the back of his head and massage across his shoulders.