HAVING AND LOSING | HyunIn

4

   The group of eight sat on their designated seats, eyes tired yet widely open to view the stage and endless of people walking up and down, performing and talking to the audience.

   It was January 7th, one day and a month before Jeongin's birthday, and he wasn't excited at all.

   But don't get him wrong, he was honoured to be here, having already won an award and couldn't be happier about it. Yet. . . the tension. The tension was too much to bear.

   Despite Minho and the youngest having talked things out, another particular dancer had yet to exchange a word.

   With a sigh and a look around, the pink-haired stood up to clap, applauding whatever was happening and sat down again. Coming to realise just how badly he had messed up.

   His leg started bouncing up and down, trying to calm the oh-so-many thoughts inside the boy's head by focusing on something else. Yet it didn't work. His mind was clouded and head starting to get dizzy, dabbling around just the tiniest bit.

   The tips of his fingers started twitching before ultimately falling into a tremble. It wasn't noticeable, his nervousness—well, at least Jeongin thought so—but the male next to him took clear note of what was happening. He just didn't know what to do.

   Yang was blinded by the lights and anxiety all at the same time. Nervously, he bit his lips. Yet again, a failed attempt at keeping his mind off things.

   He was unaware, of the looks received by his band members, because his mind was elsewhere. Yet with someone's hand on top of his, he returned to the current moment, current world.

   Hyunjin had decided to do what was best since Felix—who was on the other side of the spaced-out boy—was busy checking out Changbin. As usual, as expected. The older's body was fairly attractive, his wide shoulders and muscular build. . . yet Jeongin looked so much better, in his eyes.

   Those lean arms; capable of holding more than you might think; his toned stomach and torse, light sixpack that isn't too much but not too little either; and let's not forget his silky smooth skin. His long fingers, that Hyunjin got to feel right now.

   He squeezed his hand, leaning forward to give the youngest a tight-lipped smile. This must be fake, echoed through the pink's head, yet nonetheless, he let a smile float onto his lips. He was glad he got at least something like a smile from his crush, who he was so sure despised him now.

   The hold on his hand loosened, the touch fading away much to Jeongin's disliking. He watched the older drag his own hand onto his lap, settling it loosely on his thighs, playing with his baggy trousers.

   And yet again, Jeongin was up in his mind. This was just a show after all. An act, a facade, a play, . . . pretend. They were pretending, pretending everything was fine and they were on good terms with each other. 

   Pretending to like one another.

   But perhaps, it wasn't play pretend. Perhaps, both of the boys liked each other.

   What if both deeply fell in love? Through all the touches and all the words, all the years and all the memories. Just, what if? Would they be happy? In a relationship? Maybe even an open relationship?

   Jeongin could only dream of it as he stared down at his legs, feeling oh so lonely and troubled all over again. His face and ears felt warm from just the small touch exchanged but the smile that once decorated his face was long gone;

   the spark his eyes held, forgotten; endless of voices in his head, floating around and talking like they had never left. Yang hated how the older could make him feel so safe, make all his worries leave his mind. Because now, as soon as he has lost their closure, he was feeling more lost than ever.

   Oh, just why had he fallen for him?

   He questioned himself, over and over—as if there was no end to the pure guilt and anger in himself. Why hadn't he fallen for a girl, instead? Surely everything would've been easier. 

   Because the truth is, in this generation, this life, this moment; people would judge. They would judge him, his choices, his words, his actions—everything. They would judge him, simply for living what was his dream.

   Perhaps, that was what always stopped him from initiating things.

   Getting all of himself together, all confidence and all of his motivation to make this work, he softly reached his hand over to the boy next to him.

   However, the blue-haired had beat him to it.

   His arm was softly resting on Yang's shoulders and upper back while his hand was securely on the boy's shoulder—near his neck. The older was holding onto him as if he knew what the younger was thinking; as if he knew that he wasn't feeling. . . good.

   Jeongin leaned into his touch, missing the feeling he would get in his stomach every time they were close. With every brush of their hands and every small gesture.

   Soft and slow, he leaned his head against the older's shoulder, enjoying the closeness once more. He didn't want Hyunjin to let go, although his hand against his collarbone tickled him and left an uncomfortable sensation.

   The pink-haired was a bit surprised when his hand touched the younger's bare skin. The outfit he had been given had two cutouts at the collarbones—where the other's hand just so happened to be resting.

   With a smile, he shifted in his position—as the older rested his head on top of him, making both of their stomachs wake up thousands of butterflies from their sleep.

   Yet, of course, everything was destroyed when the event came to an end, right when the two had made themselves comfortable. The crow cheered again, clapping and whistling, as one after another the people stood up and made their way outside, some taking the chance to talk to other groups on the way.

   Changbin, who was sitting somewhere on the boy's righthand side, stood up as well, looking at their group as a way of saying "We should head out too." Chan was the next to stand up, agreeing to the well-build man's silent statement.

   a/n: ik this looks like a filler, but i promise it's not (at least not all the way)