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Yunho was staring.
Again.
It wasn’t like it was anything he hadn’t seen before or even a hundred times. He lived and worked with the man for goodness sakes. They’d been damn near naked in front of each other before. And yet every time he caught a glimpse, Yunho couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Jungho was lounging on the other side of their L-shaped couch from Yunho. Two hands holding his phone against his chest, earbuds in, giggling occasionally at whatever he was watching. None of that was what had captured Yunho’s attention so thoroughly. Though Jongho’s little half smile was adorable.
No, what had his attention was the rucked up edge of Jongho’s shirt. Specifically what the slightly raised hem was revealing. A small expanse of skin. Just the edge of his hipbone and no more than an inch of his stomach.
Just an inch of the soft, gentle curve of his belly and it had Yunho completely entranced. Switch all but abandoned in his hands, merely glancing at the screen in an attempt to look busy. But his character had long since died, falling off a ledge when Yunho had tried to steal a subtle glance at the small patch of exposed skin at Jongho’s waist. So unlike his own firm torso. He wondered what it would feel like under his hand. The way it might give slightly if he pushed against it with a firm palm or caressed it with his thumb.
Jungho shifted, one hand releasing his phone to tug his shirt to rights. Just like that, the spell over Yunho was broken.
Well, sort of.
He’d been enamored with Jongho as a whole for a while now. Everything about him made Yunho’s heart feel so full. The way he carried himself with such confidence, no matter the situation. His quiet disposition, but how he was never afraid to speak his mind if he felt the situation called for it. Or how happy he looked when he allowed himself to be silly. Every aspect of Jongho called to Yunho’s soul.
The layer of pudge he carried around his middle was merely a physical representation of Yunho’s favorite part. Jongho’s stubborn determination not to let their shared industry change him into something he wasn’t. It was so easy to get caught up in the pressure of being “perfect” and yet Jongho resisted. Comfortable enough in his own skin to just be.
***
Yunho was lucky he hadn’t broken a toe or his whole foot.
He’d been minding his own business, doing bicep curls with a dumbbell when the universe saw fit to torture him. The bench he’d chosen just happened to be behind the lat pull down machine that Jongho had wandered over to a minute after Yunho had sat down. Jongho had shed the thick sweatshirt he’d shown up in, leaving him in just a t-shirt Yunho guessed must be old because it seemed a little short on him. Seemed was thrown right out the window as soon as Jongho had finished setting the weight to his liking and reached up for the bar. And that was when Yunho had dropped the weight he had been holding.
If he believed in curses, he would have cursed the person who had hung the mirror in front of the lat machine. They clearly envisioned this exact scenario when they had put it up. Jongho arms above his head, Yunho at the perfect angle behind him to catch a perfect eyeful of his exposed plush midriff. The elastic waistband of his gym shorts biting just slightly into his softness, the perfect roundness of his belly button, the curve of his hips, all of it was on display.
Yunho wanted to sink his fingers into Jongho’s doughy middle in the worst way possible. Wanted to feel the give of it beneath his fingers. Wanted to pepper it in gentle kisses. Wanted to gently pinch and tug at it, just to watch how it stretched. Wanted to smooth his hand over it.
Jongho caught his eye in the mirror. “Careful, hyung. Don’t need you getting hurt.”
“Hand…sweaty,” Yunho responded unintelligently.
He fully blamed Jongho for his inability to form a proper sentence. The way he still had his arms extended above his head, hands loosely gripping the bar had to be intentional. Yunho couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking down to Jongho’s waist even as he told himself to maintain eye contact.
“Grab a towel then,” Jongho said before starting his set.
Yunho swallowed thickly and gave a jerky nod. With a huff, he scooped the weight up off the floor. If someone had asked him how many reps he’d done, Yunho wouldn’t have been able to give an honest answer. Enough that his biceps were ridiculously sore. But his ability to count had been severely impeded by Jongho practically flashing him in the mirror with each rep of his own. Not that it was intentional. He was just doing as the exercise required.
But Yunho was a simple man and the sheen of sweat building on Jongho’s stomach only served to highlight it’s curve. The light glinted perfectly off his skin. The way the motion of his arms caused his skin to pull slightly tighter on each upward motion and then relax as he pulled down. It was all too much for Yunho’s brain to handle.
So yeah, Yunho had no idea how many bicep curls he had done but he did know that Jongho had done three sets of ten reps before walking off.
***
All Yunho had to do was reach out and touch. Jongho’s soft, little belly was literally right there. Right next to him. Jammed on to the couch as they all were for their monthly movie night, Jongho’s hip was pressed firmly against Yunho’s. Meaning his slightly exposed pudge was within reach. His shirt had gotten slightly pulled up as he’d settled into the couch and Yunho hadn’t been able to focus on the movie since then.
It was some made-for-netflix action flick San had desperately lobbied to put on. Usually the gunfights and explosions would be enough to hold Yunho’s attention, even if the plot was terrible. However, he found himself sneaking glances at Jongho’s truly adorable little pooch out of the corner of his eye, more than he was paying attention to anything happening on screen.
He was genuinely curious about how much of Jongho’s stomach he could cover with one hand. Yunho didn’t exactly have small hands, but the idea of Jogho’s pudge spilling out between his fingers was enticing. Or just caressing it, feeling his smooth skin under his fingers, the slight give of his fat. It was an endless temptation for Yunho.
A small grunt from Jongho had Yunho hurriedly flicking his eyes back to the movie. When he next dared to look, Jongho had pulled his shirt down and the blanket in his lap slightly up. Yunho sighed slightly and tried to find the plot he’d completely lost.
***
Jongho had Wooyoung slung over his shoulders. That in and of itself wasn’t an unusual occurrence. On average, Jongho got frustrated enough with the more boisterous members to pick them up about once a week. What was unusual, and consequently had Yunho’s full attention, was the way Wooyoung had grabbed at Jongho’s shirt as he had been flipped upside down.
And then hadn’t let go.
Which was what Jongho was currently yelling at him for. Or at least that’s what Yunho assumed he was yelling about. He wasn’t too sure. The sudden appearance of Jongho’s entire torso had short circuited his brain. Mentally he had not been prepared to see Jongho’s whole stomach during a practice session on a random Tuesday. The urge to reach out and touch was almost overwhelming.
But he had some self-preservation instincts. Those and how aware he was of their other members in the room was enough to keep his hand at his side. Fingers flexing as he thought about how Jongho’s belly might feel under his hands for what had to be the hundredth time this week.
The soft expanse of flesh was more tempting to Yunho then any six-pack had ever been. He wanted to rest his head on it, feel its give under his cheek. To run his hands along it until Jongho was a blissed out mess. Kiss every inch of the fat collected along his middle, in praise for Jongho’s confidence to remain as himself.
Suddenly, Wooyoung was being dumped back on to his feet with a little more vigor than Jongho usually put him down with. Roughly he tugged his shirt out of Wooyoung’s grip and pushed it back into place. He wiggled slightly, as though confirming everything was covered.
***
“Come in. It’s unlocked,” Yunho called in response to the knock on his bedroom door.
He paused his game and looked up from where he was laying on his bed, just in time to find a slightly stressed looking Jongho closing the door behind him. Taking in Jongho’s tense shoulder and fidgeting fingers, Yunho sat up a little straighter, abandoning his switch to be swallowed up in his unmade bed.
“What’s up, Jjong?” He asked.
For a long moment, Yunho wasn’t sure Jongho was going to say anything. His eyes flicked around the room as he gnawed on his plump bottom lip. Yunho attempted to wait patiently for whatever Jongho needed to tell him but he could feel the anxiety curling in his gut the longer Jongho was silent.
Eventually, Jongho squared his shoulders and spat out, “Do you have a problem with me, Hyung?”
“Wh-what?” Was Yunho’s unfiltered, baffled reply. “No. Why would you think I have a problem with you? What problem could I possibly have with you, Jongho?”
“With how I look,” Jongho said in a small voice, pressing a palm flat against his stomach. “I’ve seen you staring.”
Yunho could all but hear the record scratch as the world around him slowed to a crawl. That was the last thing he had expected Jongho to say. Is that really how Jongho had interpreted his, obviously not as subtle as he thought, staring? That Yunho was staring because he was repulsed? It was so contrary to the truth that Yunho almost couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept.
Evidently he had been silent for too long because Jongho started talking again. “When I said I wouldn’t focus on having a perfect BMI, I expected the company, managers, and even stylists to have problems with my choice. I even expected random people on the internet to voice their issue with my body. I never expected my own members to be the issue. I expected all of you to understand why I wouldn’t want to subject myself to that. To accept me as I am.”
Yunho could only watch in abject horror as Jongho rambled. The clear distress on Jongho’s usually happy face was heartbreaking to Yunho. In no way had he thought his actions were having such a negative impact on him.
“And,” Jongho continued. “For it to be you of all people. I don’t know, that hurts. I thought we were closer than that.”
At that, Yunho forced himself into action, rolling off the bed and closing the distance between them swiftly. Gently, he placed his hands on Jongho’s hips, barely putting any pressure, just a suggestion to Jongho to stay put. He looked down into Jongho’s slightly startled eyes and drew a deep breath. He shoved down his own awkwardness over the situation. He needed to make this right with Jongho.
In a voice just barely above a whisper Yunho told Jongho, “I don’t have a problem with your stomach or any bit of you for that matter.”
“Th-then…why…?” Jongho couldn’t seem to bring himself to complete the question but Yunho understood.
Yunho sighed. “It’s kind of the opposite.”
“Opposite?” Jongho questioned, pouting just a little bit.
Yunho nodded, searching Jongho’s eyes for anything other than shock. This wasn’t the moment he’d have picked to admit his more than friendly opinion about Jongho’s body but he needed him to understand. Needed to clear up the misunderstanding brewing between them. He wasn’t sure what he found in Jongho’s eyes, but he took solace in the fact that Jongho hadn’t punched him yet. Or run off screaming down the hallway that Yunho was being a weird pervert.
“You like how I look?” Jongho asked slowly, almost like his whole world view had been shifted.
“I am,” Yunho squeezed Jongho’s hips a little tighter. He could feel his own face flushing, even as he forced himself to speak. “Enticed, entranced and enamored with all of you. Your belly is just the plump little cherry on top of an amazing Jongho sundae.”
“Hyung,” Jongho breathed out.
When it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else Yunho continued. He might as well lay all his cards out on the table now. “You have the most amazing personality, you’re strong enough to rip apples in half with your bare hands, you’re so confident in yourself, you could probably crack my skull with your thighs, you have an incredible voice and you’re a captivating dancer. In short, I like you. I also happen to find you attractive, from your never changing haircut to your perfect feet, and everything in between. Including this.”
Yunho let one hand slide over Jongho’s shirt until it lay flat on his stomach. In unison, they both glanced down, taking in the way Yunho’s long fingers curved gently over Jongho’s belly. When they looked up, Yunho found Jongho staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief.
“You don’t mind that I’m fat?” Jongho asked, not making a move to leave Yunho’s touch.
Yunho almost snorted. Leave it to Jongho to ignore a confession just to focus on a minor detail.
“You’re not fat. You have some fat. There’s a difference,” Yunho told him seriously. “You can literally squat my body weight and then some. You are our strongest member, hands down. A fact I very much appreciate. I also appreciate the extra padding around your middle.”
“Oh,” Was all Jongho could say, mouth stuck in a small o-shape.
“Now, either please reject me so I can go wallow in self pity for this truly embarrassing confession or agree to let me take you on a date the next time we both have a few hours to spare,” Yunho pleaded, shifting his hand off Jongho’s belly and back to his hip.
For a moment, it looked like Jongho’s brain had well and truly blue screened but then he managed to gather himself. “A date would be nice, hyung.”