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Matthew had always been one to believe in love stories. His sister used to laugh and tease him, saying he was just like his mom and her unwavering belief in the type of fate that brought people together. The kitchen would be warm and full of light, Matthew sleepy and stomach full of delicious food, and her mom would tell the story of her and dad over and over (to the chagrin of his sister). No matter how repetitive it got, Matthew still listened attentively each time, hoping to catch some new detail or description. It explained his mother’s adoration of Howl’s Moving Castle; the story that brought Howl and Sophie together and eventually blended so deeply with Matthew’s love for his family that he made sure to get it tattooed on his arm before he left for Korea.
Just because Matthew believed in love stories didn’t mean they would come true. At least not for him.
This realization had crept up on him over time, a sort of throbbing pain that seeped through the marrow of his bones until one day, toward the very end of Boy’s Planet, it hit him all at once. Say My Name dance practice had just been put on pause for the time being, and Matthew’s weary, heavy footsteps carried him almost automatically toward Hanbin’s room. As he approached, the sound of another, familiar voice came into focus, like he was surfacing from a particularly deep dive into the water. Zhang Hao.
“Hanbin-ah,” Hao was saying. “Don’t beat yourself up too much about it. You’ve nearly cried yourself to death these past few days from stress. I’ve never seen you like this since Tomboy--remember what we talked about then? What we promised?”
Another sound rose gently into Matthew’s periphery. Soft sniffling and quiet whooshes of linen, as if whoever was sitting on the bed was swinging their legs back and forth. Definitely Hanbin.
“I know, Hao-hyung. Thank you for listening to me rant all this time,” Another, barely there sniffle. It seemed as though Hanbin was nearing the end of whatever breakdown he had been having, thanks to Hao’s support. That used to be me, Matthew thought, then pushed the unbidden thought away. Recently, he had been having more and more of these thoughts, dangerous, jealous, and unfair to Hao and Hanbin for every reason.
Once upon a time, Hanbin would have come to Matthew in a heartbeat, for anything. Matthew likes to think it was Tomboy that changed everything; somehow, Hao had gotten closer to Hanbin in the span of two weeks, while it had taken Matthew almost two years to reach the surface of his heart. What does he have that I don’t? Matthew used to think, in the very beginning when these ugly feelings arose wild and raw and uncontrollable. I would change every part of who I was if I could be who he wanted.
Nowadays, the envy is dulled and restrained, kept in check by his pure will and dampened by his desperation to debut. Nowadays, he would give anything to just be standing on stage, one more time, with Hanbin by his side.
Distracted, Matthew hardly realizes he’s arrived at Hanbin’s door until he glances up and sees the faded name tags. His feet stop on their own accord. He struggles internally for a few seconds until, taking a deep breath, he raises his hand to knock on the door--then lowers it. His mouth has gone terribly dry; out of nerves or fear or anger, he isn’t quite sure. There’s a wave of something threatening to crash through his body, feral and violent and making him feel slightly unhinged. Before he can raise his hand again, a voice interrupts.
“Matthew?” The smooth, low timbre isn’t unfamiliar, but it’s a surprise to hear in this place, at this time. He swivels around to find Kim Taerae watching him from slightly down the hall, evidently on his way somewhere. There’s something in his gaze that throws Matthew off-kilter, just for a moment. Something that traps him in place. Some sort of recognition.
“Hey,” Matthew greets, swallowing around his raspy throat. He’s been having vocal cord issues since Say My Name started, and the crying and screaming into his pillow in private probably haven’t been helping. “Taerae, uh, what’s up?” It’s awkward and stilted and fits their dynamic, if only because they don’t really have one, yet.
“Nothing, just saw you standing and staring at that door for a few minutes. Wanted to check if you were alright?” Taerae naturally lilts the end of his sentence, phrasing it as a question and simultaneously inviting Matthew in. From what Matthew knows about Taerae, he’s like this. Mellow and steady and unassuming, like a bed of smooth stones on a riverbank warming gently in the sun.
“Oh, uh,” Matthew scratches the side of his neck in acute discomfort. The feeling of being caught off guard is still there, but Matthew doesn’t feel guilt or resentment as he would normally do if it were Keita or Jiwoong. Something about Taerae stills the all-consuming thing inside, if just for a moment. “I’m just… I was going to ask Hanbin about something. But I think he’s busy- I mean, he’s with someone else- I mean, I heard him-”
Maybe it’s a stroke of luck or decidedly bad timing, but at that instant, Hao opens the door to Hanbin’s room, straight into Matthew’s side. Whatever it is, at least it stops his rambling.
“Oh- I’m so sorry!” Hao exclaims at the exact same time Matthew yelps in pain. He’s still rubbing his side, a little ruefully, when Hanbin appears behind Hao, glancing worriedly at Matthew.
“Matthew-ah! Are you okay?” Hanbin asks, smoothly sliding past Hao to grab onto Matthew’s shoulders. His hands come to rest on Matthew’s left arm, where he was hit and rubs up and down. Matthew hates himself for the sudden intake of breath he takes at the warmth and proximity of Hanbin, hates himself for the way his heart stutters and his mouth goes dry and everything zeroes in on that point of contact that means nothing to him.
“Hi, hyung, yeah, I’m fine, no really I am-” Matthew pushes Hanbin’s hands away with probably a little more force than necessary. Hao is looking on with an expression between apologetic and amused, probably due to Hanbin’s antics more than Matthew’s… being there.
“Hanbin-ah, stop crowding Matthew and let him talk.” Hao laughs and lightly grasps Hanbin. Naturally, they slip into holding hands and Matthew tries to avert his gaze as subtly as possible.
“You’re right, hyung. Well, what’s up, Matthew? Did something happen?” Hanbin asks, his tone jovial and as if he hadn’t been crying his heart out with Zhang Hao five minutes earlier, probably holding Hanbin just like this. Tender but firm. With care. With love. Matthew shakes his head to clear it, then just keeps shaking it. “Nothing, hyung. I had a minor question but I figured it out.”
“Are you sure?” Hanbin’s eyes slowly cloud with concern again. Hao glances over and almost instinctively clutches his hand tighter. Matthew’s self-loathing rears its head for a second before he vehemently pushes it back down.
“Yes, hyung.” Matthew smiles as sweetly as he can up at Hanbin. He knows Hanbin like the back of his hand. He knows Hanbin will let it go if he smiles genuinely enough, widely enough. If he pretends that everything is okay, and Matthew is still the Matthew he knows. The Matthew he used to love.
“Okay, Matthew-ah. Remember, if you need anything, hyung is always here. Hao-hyung too,” at this, Hanbin looks over at Hao as if to confirm. Hao quirks his lips up in silent support and reassurance. Yes, I will help you take care of your friend because I love you. Matthew reads. His self-sabotaging skills just continue to get better. “He’s surprisingly good at comforting people when he wants to!”
“Yah, what is that supposed to mean?!” Hao swats at Hanbin’s shoulder playfully, sending them both into a fit of giggles. Matthew finds himself gradually backing away, unable to stand it. Stand them. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he stays. He can’t stay. Not any longer. Not right now.
“Anyway, hyungs, thank you, I’ll just go now,” Matthew keeps backing away, with renewed speed. Hao and Hanbin don’t really seem to notice, caught up in some other unspoken, telepathic conversation. The same ones are getting more frequent lately. “See you at practice later, Hanbin-hyung--bye, Hao-hyung!”
With that, he turns tail and runs. Throughout the commotion and inner turmoil, Matthew barely remembers someone else watching from the shadows.
***
Taerae hadn’t intended on eavesdropping on their conversation. Actually, he hadn’t intended to be in that hallway at all, if not for the uncanny circumstance that had sent him down that way from Switch practice room in the first place. He had been meaning to grab an ice pack for Jongwoo but had been caught deep in thought about--well, about basically the only thing he thought of these days.
WakeOnez, is what the fans called them. To Taerae, they were just his labelmates. To Taerae, they were all he knew, all he had known since way before the show until now. He had watched them all leave, one by one; had tried not to shed too many tears in front of cameras, let too many people closer in case they would try to pry. Now, by the hand of divinity or maybe by nothing but his own will, he, Jeonghyeon, and Hanbin were left, out of the five that had come. Their dynamic was what had kept him grounded. Yet, as the days kept moving on, sometimes fast as a river and sometimes at a snail’s pace, he began to foresee a looming, impenetrable hurdle.
There was no way they could all debut.
He sometimes lay in bed at night, listening to the breaths of fellow trainees around him, in slumber, while he was wide awake, head swimming with thoughts of debut. Instead of the expected excitement, hope, and nerves, all he felt was dread. Day in and day out, the ball of dread grew in his stomach like a piece of lead. He felt as if he was being buried alive, some nights, it pressed on his chest so heavily. What if I don’t want this? He had once thought, then immediately, the horror of having even thought that, so close to what had been his almost unattainable dream for so long, had stolen his breath.
Once or twice, at his very darkest moments, he fervently prayed. He, like some Koreans of traditional upbringing, had been raised as a devout Christian. Due to… some incompatibilities between his lifestyle, with who he was, he had long given up praying as a means of grasping at what power he might have over his life. But old habits die hard. And he had never wanted anything more than this.
Not even debut.
So when he saw a similar longing reflected in Matthew’s eyes, as he stood gazing at Hanbin’s dorm room’s door, maybe it was chance, maybe it was divine intervention, maybe it was just Taerae. He couldn’t help it.
“Matthew?” the name tumbled out of his mouth a second before he registered what he was seeing. Most likely a private moment that Matthew would not thank him for witnessing. Instead, Matthew reacted most unexpectedly.
Initially, he had looked as if he had been caught stealing or murdering someone, or something equally criminal. After a pause, however, his features softened from that frantic, almost maniacal expression to something approximating neutrality (Taerae commended Matthew for trying, at least).
“Hey,” Matthew eloquently says, voice a bit raspy (from overuse or emotion, Taerae can’t tell). “Taerae, what’s up?” His voice takes on that aegyo lilt that, even though this is probably only their fourth (third?) interaction ever, immediately strikes an almost nostalgic chord in Taerae. Matthew blinks a few times in embarrassment, hand slowly creeping up to scratch at his neck.
“Nothing,” Taerae starts, then continues after realizing that probably isn’t a good enough explanation for why he was randomly butting into Matthew’s business. “Just saw you standing and staring at that door for a few minutes. Wanted to check if you were alright?” Inwardly, Taerae cringes at the awkward atmosphere permeating their conversation. He has a habit of using up tone at the ends of his sentences, partly from singing and partly because it has become somewhat of an inside joke amongst the WakeOnez. At that thought, Taerae sobers immediately.
Taerae shakes that thought just as Matthew finishes rambling, something about finding Hanbin, but him being busy (no doubt with Zhang Hao, if the rumors are anything to go off of), wanting to ask a question, etc. Before he can formulate a reply, the door swings upon and right into Matthew’s right side. Taerae and Matthew both jump this time, startled. In the doorway appears a faintly disheveled Zhang Hao, who immediately catches sight of Matthew clutching his arm in pain and gasps in apology. Taerae is acutely suspicious he’s likely about to intrude on a very awkward scene if the mixed guilt, surprise, anger, jealousy, and concern in both Hao and Matthew’s faces are anything to go by. The culprit of this mess appears a moment later, behind Hao, also looking a bit rumpled. Hanbin.
At this, Taerae decides it is his cue to leave. He doesn’t need to try hard to slip away; as soon as Hanbin spots Matthew, a familiar yet foreign onslaught of emotions flits over his face before he’s back to smothering him. Taerae notes all of this with growing interest as he continues his walk down the hall. A sudden burst of understanding almost makes him stop in his tracks, but he makes sure he’s out of sight of the trio before he stops and slaps a hand over his face. Slumping lightly against the wall, he curses himself for being unnecessarily nosy and vows to never bring that encounter up to any of them, if he can avoid it.
After all, if Taerae was the one who was caught in unrequited love, he wouldn’t want to be reminded of it. Let alone by someone who was practically a stranger to him.
***
At this point, Matthew probably shouldn’t be surprised at losing sleep. But it’s almost a month into their formation as ZeroBaseOne, almost a month after he’s achieved his so-called dreams, and he still can’t sleep. Every night it gets worse, the green-eyed monster is almost a part of the way he lives and breathes, like second nature, like an extra limb. He feels unwieldy and out of his mind a lot these days, but at least recently he hasn’t really had time to even feel with all the preparations for their first KCON performance as a fully-fledged group. Exhaustion creeps through his body but his mind won’t let him rest.
A few feet away, Taerae turns in his sleep, a rustle of bedsheets and blankets. Matthew, his senses heightened after all of this time staring into the nighttime gloom of their hotel room ceiling, barely catches the end of a sigh, the only indication that Taerae is also awake.
The dynamic between Matthew and Taerae has also been recently changing, shifting like the ocean tides as the moon cycle progresses. Their once-strained conversations now have a comfortable ebb and flow, like waves breaking against smooth sand. Although it’s only been a few weeks, Matthew marvels at how surprisingly painless it was for them to break from a mutually awkward acquaintanceship into… whatever this was.
If Matthew thought about it carefully, though, he knew that this shift in what they were had started way before ZeroBaseOne. He remembered flashes of a LED-lit hallway, a lonely spring night, a raspy throat, an easy voice, and eyes that seemed to encompass every inch of him. Taerae and he had never spoken about that incident, not then and not even now. He knew Taerae remembered it too; how could he not, when their unfortunate trio graced his presence every day now? With a sardonic smile, Matthew wonders if Taerae regrets debuting with this silly little one-sided love triangle.
Across the room, Taerae rolls over on his bed again, this time letting out a slightly louder sigh. He seems to be thinking about something, Matthew considers. He notices something strange in him, a feeling he can’t put his finger on. The last time he felt this was when he met those immovable brown eyes across the hall and felt stripped to the bone.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Matthew hesitantly speaks into the humming quiet: “Taerae?”
Immediately, Matthew knows Taerae is awake, and also heard him. There’s a slight intake of breath, then: “Matthew?”
“Yes,” Matthew replies, lamely. Perhaps Taerae also realizes how useless the question is (obviously it’s Matthew speaking since they’re the only two in the room), because he follows, after a beat of quiet: “You’re awake too, then?”
“Yeah,” Matthew says again. Another pause. The silence in the room feels slightly charged, like the few minutes before a storm.
“Can’t sleep?” Taerae asks. His voice is thicker and lower than usual with fatigue. KCON preparations have really done a number on all of them.
“Yeah,” Matthew says, then fumbles for more. “I-- I was just thinking.”
“Thinking?” Taerae replies, after another pause. Matthew studies the dark ceiling with renewed interest. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous, having this conversation, just suddenly aware that he is. “About what?”
“Just… about us.” Matthew quickly amends his statement, blushing lightly into the darkness. “I mean, not about us, specifically. About ZB1. About our group. Our groupmates.”
“Anything particular about us?” Taerae prompts, tone overtly casual. It seems like Matthew isn’t the only one aware of the unusual turn the conversation has taken. Despite their getting closer, the two still haven’t ever come close to discussing… whatever it is they are discussing now.
“Not sure, really.” Matthew hesitates, searching for words to describe what he wants to say, how he wants to say it. He’s not always been the type to think before he speaks, but with Taerae, everything seems… less demanding. Less intense than usual. It leaves Matthew room to think, without having to meet any expectations. “I think… I just feel like our dynamic has changed. I mean, I know that’s normal since we’re a group now. I mean, we’re about to debut, and we’re performing for real, as idols now! But…”
“But it’s still different,” Taerae quietly offers. Matthew nods, then realizes Taerae can’t see him and says: “Yeah. But… maybe not a bad different.”
“Oh?” Taerae speaks up again after Matthew falls silent for a bit. Matthew has this feeling he’s waiting for Matthew to gather his thoughts, but reassuring him that he’s listening at the same time. A pool of something warm spreads through Matthew’s chest. He ignores it, for now, to focus on what he wants to convey. How he wants to convey it.
“I think… there are a lot of things in Boy’s Planet I’m still holding on to.” Matthew begins, then continues in a rush of words he didn’t even realize he had stored in him. “I keep… expecting people to be a certain way. Expecting myself to act a certain way… with people. If you know what I mean.” Taerae hums his assent. “But I realized that I don’t need to keep holding on to these… expectations. These feelings.” Matthew clarifies. It feels both liberating and terrifying to be talking about this, with Taerae of all people, who Matthew knows understands what--no, who--he’s talking about immediately and almost intimately. “I can let them go. I have to. To move forward… to really be able to be a part of this group. A good member. Someone that… someone that I want to be.” That my fans and family would be proud of, he doesn’t say. Of course, Taerae would understand that unspoken part. He’s been on the road Matthew has, and now they’ve both achieved something unimaginable.
There’s a long silence afterward, but it’s not as awkward or uncomfortable as Matthew expects. It’s not comfortable, per se--Matthew grows more aware by the second that Taerae knows what Matthew is telling him in ways that Matthew doesn’t even want to know himself. That doesn’t stop Matthew from wanting to share those parts with him.
“I get what you’re saying,” Taerae’s voice, smooth and silken like rich honey, spills all over Matthew. The very air he’s breathing seems coated in Taerae’s voice. “But I also think it’s normal to hold on to these things, at least for a while. Boy’s Planet was such an integral part of our lives, and it’s still so fresh in our minds, in our hearts--” At this, Taerae pauses. Matthew can tell he’s debating whether or not he wants to say the next part, but despite his fear, Matthew latches on to every word. “And for…some of us, those people have been a part of our lives even before Boy’s Planet.” Matthew’s heart lurches as if he’s in free fall. He had known when he started this conversation, that Taerae knew how he felt. How he still feels. He just… hadn’t expected him to be this bold, this unashamed. This open.
“Matthew… sometimes these sorts of feelings, they never go away.” Taerae is no longer trying to sugarcoat his words. Every one of them pierces Matthew like velvet thorns. “Even if you spend the next two and a half years with each other, they might not go away. Even if you see them every day, for the rest of your life, they might not go away. But my mom always told me that belief would hold out over emotions.” There was a shuffling sound, and Matthew had an inkling Taerae had turned to face him on the bed. “I believe you can let go of this, Seok Matthew. You won’t have to live in his shadow forever.”
***
After Taerae’s last words, the room goes utterly silent. He hadn’t noticed this before, but Chiba, despite not being directly in Tokyo, had that atmosphere of frenzy that Tokyo had like the air would not stay still. It thrummed with light and sound and energy. But the air in their hotel room was now overly stifling. Taerae realized he was unconsciously holding his breath, and let it all out in a whoosh. It seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden deafening silence.
Matthew still hadn’t said anything in response to what Taerae had said. In a rare occurrence, Taerae had almost let his thoughts run away without him; thank God he had stopped when he did. Taerae wasn’t one to not think about what he wanted to say, and how to say it before he spoke. No matter who he spoke to. The fact that Matthew had made him throw all of his self-control out the window seemed alarming, to say the least. He wasn’t sure why he felt so passionately about those three, whatever they had going on. All he knew was that as he thought about what to say, how to reach out to Matthew, the image of him standing outside Hanbin’s door, their voices full of adoration, his fist held loosely by his side as if arrested in motion, face full of a yearning and hatred so fervent and savage Taerae had thought, for a second, as if he might break down with anguish, rose unbidden to his mind. From then, he knew he had to say something, say anything that might show Matthew I see you, I know you, and despite it all, I care about you.
A sound startled Taerae out of his reverie. It was Matthew, trying to hold back sniffles that gradually grew into shaky sobs, like cracked stained-glass windows between winding cathedral pillars. Taerae’s first thought was: Angels cry like this, before the next thing Matthew said wiped all divine imagery from his mind.
“Taerae, I don’t know what to do,” Matthew was full-on crying now, ugly, loud crying that seemed to shake the walls. “I can’t do this for a-another two and a-a half years, I’ll d-die, I really will, or I’ll h-hurt someone, or I’ll hurt m-myself--”
Before Taerae could register what he was doing, he swung his legs over his bed and practically catapulted into Matthew’s. He had bundled himself up into his blankets, wound tight around him like a cocoon. Extricating him from the tangle seemed too difficult at the moment, so Taerae settled for cuddling his face close to his chest like his dad used to do whenever he broke down over guitar lessons. He felt the wetness of Matthew’s tears slowly seep through his pajamas, but he hardly noticed, too intent on making those noises of sweet comfort and whispering over and over “It’s okay, I’ve got you” until Matthew at least stopped trembling.
“I-I’m sorry,” Matthew said before dissolving into fresh tears. He seemed to blame himself for his breakdown, as he had routinely started to blame himself for more these days; dieting, dancing, even sleeping at inopportune times. Taerae didn’t know he had noticed all this until now. He realized that Matthew had needed this conversation for a long time coming. I wonder how many nights he’s been awake, Taerae thought. The idea of Matthew, unable to fall asleep, love and hatred laying undissolved in his throat, made Taerae tear up. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done this sooner.
“It’s okay, Matthew-yah,” Taerae rarely used affectionate terms with Matthew, opting for borderline polite and casual, with occasional formalities. He remembered, however, how Jiwoong used to comfort Matthew with informal, close to babytalk, and ruefully thought it was probably because he had always been the baby of his family. Perhaps it was a sibling with a large age gap phenomenon, but Taerae had never really felt babied by his older sister, or his parents for that matter. Or maybe it was just his family. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m here for you--you know that. As a groupmate, and as your friend.”
Taerae wasn’t sure that they were friends. Somehow, something not quite and much more.
“I know,” came Matthew’s muffled reply after a few seconds. His sobbing was gradually tapering down to some hiccups and sniffles. Belatedly, Taerae realized he might be squeezing Matthew’s face too tight to his chest and went to loosen his grip, but Matthew sensed it and burrowed deeper into Taerae’s T-shirt (now pretty much soaked through). “I’m still sorry… you probably weren’t expecting all of this to happen tonight.” Matthew gave a small, deprecating laugh that tugged at somewhere sharply in Taerae’s ribcage.
“I can’t say that I did,” Taerae tried to respond lightheartedly and evenly, not wanting to spook Matthew as he calmed down. “But I was the one who made you cry in the first place, so let’s say we’re even.”
“Okay,” Matthew agreed, this time with a more playful chuckle. Good, Taerae thought. He’s stable.
“I mean,” Taerae continued offhandedly, “I kind of relate to how you’ve been feeling, anyway.” At this, Matthew stiffened.
“What do you mean, you relate?” Matthew asked, newfound curiosity in his voice. Too late, Taerae realizes Matthew knows next to nothing about the WakeOnez. Most people didn’t, to be honest. At least, they never knew the extent to which it affected Taerae, especially these last few weeks, especially after seeing them across that stage, across the WakeOne practice rooms, but never side by side, never again. Taerae made sure that no one saw that deep.
“Taerae! Do you have some crush on someone I don’t know about?” Matthew nudged Taerae gently with his head. The effect was like a cat when they wanted you to pet them, so Taerae obliged and settled his fingers in Matthew’s (surprisingly) soft hair, twisting lightly against the strands. Matthew sighed in comfort.
“No, I don’t,” Taerae admitted. He paused, collecting his thoughts, wondering if he should tell Matthew the full truth, if he would even understand what he was trying to convey in Korean.
“Taerae, you know I won’t judge you,” Matthew spoke up again, interpreting Taerae’s silence as nerves. He wasn’t too far off. “I basically confessed that I’m in love with someone in our group who is literally my best friend and dating another group member. It can’t really get worse than that.”
At that, Taerae laughed. He was glad Matthew was feeling safe enough with Taerae to speak about it freely, now that he had basically cried about it in his arms. “I guess I can’t really beat that, can I?” Matthew firmly shook his head, laughter shaking his frame, up through Taerae’s fingers to buzz in his heart. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. Unwillingly, images of WakeOnez floated through his mind, the first and only people who had ever known this part of himself and loved him for it.
“I’m actually… not really like most other people.” Taerae tried out the words he had only spoken once before, in a similarly dimly lit room a whole country away, yet so close to home. “I… basically don’t really fall in love? Or at least, I’ve never been into anyone before, in a romantic sense. But I do have a tendency to form… codependencies? Like intense emotionally dependent relationships with people, that aren’t really, just friendships. I guess.” Matthew had fallen silent and stilled, probably trying to piece together what Taerae was saying. He plowed on. “I’m also--I won’t really feel any sexual attraction toward anyone unless I’ve formed a strong emotional bond with them.”
Hypothetically, Taerae knew Matthew likely had only truly understood half of what he was saying, based on his limited Korean understanding. So it was a pleasant surprise when Matthew, after a few more seconds of ponderous silence, nodded slowly. “I see,” Matthew didn’t seem at all taken aback or even remotely affected by Taerae’s announcement. For Taerae, it felt like he had stepped foot into a giant, gaping chasm without knowing what was at the bottom. “I… didn’t quite understand all of that, but I think I get the gist. I had a friend, back in Canada, who also had the same… preferences.” Taerae almost giggled at Matthew’s clumsy scrambling to describe what Taerae had said in the limited Korean he knew. It was strangely endearing, Matthew trying to reassure him in that aegyo tone he always had.
“Thank you, Matthew,” Taerae said, with sincere gratitude.
“Also, as you know,” Matthew continued. “I’m also not exactly straight.”
At this, Taerae did laugh, a sudden, flighty sound that burst out of him like birdsong. It took him and Matthew by surprise, but soon, both of them were giggling furiously. Matthew had removed himself a bit from the cocoon of blankets and was now full-on cuddling Taerae, arms, and legs slung loosely over his torso and hips. A line of simmering heat spread through Taerae’s hip to his chest, along every inch of Matthew’s skin.
“Anyway, if you haven’t had a crush on someone, what did you mean when you said you could relate?” Matthew asked, refusing to forget Taerae’s previous slip-up. Taerae groaned and buried his head in blankets, eliciting a bright laugh out of Matthew as he dragged Taerae’s head up lightly. “Nuh-uh, you have to tell me! Since I’ve bared my soul to you and all, it’s only fair.”
“Fine,” Taerae whined, laughing again. Something about Matthew made it hard to say no to him for long. “I just meant the WakeOnez--my labelmates,” Taerae amended, seeing Matthew’s confusion at the fanmade nickname. “I miss them--” Taerae’s voice wavered suddenly, and his eyes filled with tears. Matthew, concern evident on his face, shifted closer to Taerae, clinging even tighter to him. “I just miss them, that’s all. They used to be my go-to people--they were the first to know about all this and accept me for it, when even my parents didn’t--and now, I don’t know. I mean, technically I know they’re still there, right in the same building as us, but with everything, with debut and schedules, it just… doesn’t feel the same.” Taerae finishes in one breath, not realizing how much he had to say until he let it all out.
Matthew was silent for what seemed like a few beats too long. Taerae chanced a glance at him, wondering if maybe he had fallen asleep, but dark eyes met his steadily in the gloom. Taerae couldn’t quite read what Matthew was thinking, until:
“But… that’s not quite the same, is it?” Matthew asked. Taerae was so startled by the sudden bitterness coloring his harsh tone that he almost flinched back. “I mean, I understand that you’re upset you can’t debut with them… but you guys still hang out quite frequently, and at least--well--you said it yourself. They love you. But Hanbin-hyung--he won’t ever love me. Not in the way I want him to, not even when he’s right here next to me.”
As Matthew spoke, his voice growing more and more indignant, Taerae’s stomach filled with that same old ball of dread from pre-finale. He could almost feel the way it wound tightly around his chest, constricting his airflow, not letting him breathe. Of course, you shouldn’t have expected anything, a voice in his head says, vicious and degrading. No one can understand how you feel. No one ever has. No one ever will.
“Taerae?” Matthew inquires. His voice shakes a little. It seems in a split second, he had lost his bravado. Taerae knows Matthew knows he fucked up. It doesn’t make what he said sting any less.
“Thanks for the valuable input, Matthew.” Taerae removes himself, not exactly gently, from Matthew’s embrace. For a moment, it seems like Matthew tightens his grip--but that passes, and he slips from his bed back to his own, turning away from Matthew as though it might protect him from the damage that’s been done. “Next time we talk, I won’t bring up how I feel, since you seem to know better than I do.” Realistically, Taerae recognized he was probably overreacting, at least a little. Matthew had been caught up in the rush of his emotions, right after his breakdown. He hadn’t meant to downplay the way Taerae felt. Yet somehow, in all his years of knowing he felt about and for people differently in a way others might never understand, this rebuttal had wounded him the most.
“Taerae, please-- I didn’t mean--” Matthew’s voice rang out in the gloom that grew passively brighter as the dawn came. It was too late for this--Taerae just wanted to sleep. He found himself suddenly drained.
“Matthew, stop.” Taerae closed his eyes as a single tear fell slowly down his cheek. His tongue instinctively swiped over it, the salt of an endless gulf opening up between their two beds. “I just want to go to sleep.”
***
Matthew knew he had fucked up. He had fucked up so badly, it was honestly laughable. After he finally found the one person who had understood him at a glance, persuaded him to let down his walls in only a few weeks, who had comforted and guided him through his seemingly impossible-to-heal heartbreak, he had gone and fucked it all up.
KCON had come and gone in a blur. After his ill-fated late-night talk with Taerae, despite living in the same hotel room both nights, he had only had a brief respite from Taerae’s cold shoulder during Taerae Show, and that had just been for the camera. Matthew found his sleep was worse than ever; he barely slept one hour the night before they left to return to Seoul. During KCON, Taerae found excuses to stay away from Matthew when possible, and when not possible (as dictated by Hanbin’s or their rehearsal director’s stage orders) he plastered on a believable smile and pretended all was well. The issue was that everything was as far from well as it could possibly be, and no one except Matthew knew, and it was driving him crazy.
If Matthew had let himself think more about how he was feeling, he would have noticed that previously, his insomniac habits found him (mostly) reminiscing about Hanbin, or contemplating Hanbin and Hao, or all three of them, in that masochistic way of his. Now, the only thing he could ever think about was Taerae. He missed his solid presence; without Taerae’s attention and care, Matthew felt almost phantasmal, as if without knowing, he might pass through any nearby object.
That’s why, right before their flight back to Seoul, as Matthew and Taerae sat packing their luggage in uncomfortable silence bordering on simply unbearable, he decided he would do everything he could to win back Taerae’s favor. Even if a small voice inside him said he had never deserved it to begin with.
If there was anything Matthew knew he was, it was selfish. And he now knew he wanted Taerae, in a way that would not rest until he had him.
And so a plan was devised. On the plane ride, Matthew would ask to switch seats with Gyuvin (who was assigned to sit next to Taerae on this flight) and fix what had gone wrong, what Matthew had made wrong with his careless, casually cruel words.
***
Matthew knew Gyuvin suspected something was up as soon as he asked to switch seats. The only thing he could offer was a sorry and a shrug, but his glance toward Taerae, toward the front of their boarding line, likely gave him away. Gyuvin just gave him a searching look and sighed, muttering under his breath about his hyungs and their love squabbles (Matthew pointedly ignored the comments).
As soon as Matthew boarded the plane, he bounded over to where Taerae was calmly stowing his luggage and plopped down into Gyuvin’s seat. Taerae started for a second, a flash of annoyance and hurt across his face before it smoothed slowly back to the usual Taerae stoicism. “What are you doing in Gyuvin’s seat, Matthew?” Taerae inquired dryly. Matthew noticed none of the usual banter or playfulness. Taerae was even back to calling him Matthew (when had he started using affectionate terms with him?).
“Ah, just wanted to spend some quality time with you,” Matthew tried to joke, knowing his excuse was bordering on ridiculous it was so unbelievable. He wasn’t good at lying anyway, and this was as close to the truth as he could get.
Taerae raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. For some reason, he looked kinda hot. Matthew chided himself immediately for thinking so. You’re lucky he isn’t punching you in the face right now, he thought. “Right, as if you need more of that after we literally roomed together.” Taerae scoffed but didn’t object. He just sat down, tilting his face slightly away from Matthew, and proceeded to put his AirPods in. Yes, Matthew thought. Victory #1!
“Well, you know how I’ve always wanted to get closer to you, Taerae-yah,” Matthew tries again, in less of a joking tone this time. Taerae ignores him, but a slight twitch in his face alerts Matthew that he can hear him. So he goes on, basically rambling at this point. “And well, I know I haven’t been the best at that, especially these last few days--” Taerae snorts but doesn’t say anything. “But I really wanted to apologize and maybe make up for it if I can--please, I really am sorry.” At these last words, Matthew feels his voice go soft and a little desperate at the edges. He honestly doesn’t even care at this point; he wants to let Taerae know how much he wants to be friends again.
Taerae still says nothing, just sits stonily facing the window. Matthew opens his mouth and is about to continue when there’s a light tap on his shoulder. He turns to face Hanbin, whose face is mostly exasperated but also fond and amused. Matthew has a feeling Hanbin knows what’s going on between them, but hasn’t brought it up, probably waiting to see if they can figure it out without leader intervention (which Matthew can, he’s an adult, he can do this).
“Matthew-yah, let’s be a little quieter, okay? The members are napping--” At this, Matthew notices that Gyuvin and Gunwook, the two big puppies, are indeed asleep, while Yujin and Jiwoong are on their way. Ricky is scrolling through his phone next to their manager, but even their manager is beginning to nod off. Hao is snoring up a storm in the corner, where Hanbin presumably came from.
“Sorry, hyung,” Matthew sheepishly replies, lightly touching his cheek. He feels a flush starting to spread at knowing Hanbin heard him apologizing to Taerae.
“It’s okay, Seokmae-yah,” Hanbin’s voice is indulgent and he naturally slips into using the old nickname. By now, Matthew usually would be unable to stand this conversation, thinking only of his and Hanbin’s past and the bone-deep craving to be his. But now, all he can think about is talking to Taerae before he inevitably too falls asleep. “Try and get some rest, too. I’ll wake us up when we’re there.”
“Okay, hyung,” Matthew agrees easily. He waits for that familiar ache, the tug of desire that follows Hanbin wherever he goes. But all he can feel is the present warmth of Taerae at his side. Hanbin ruffles his hair affectionately before going back to Hao’s seat, gently pulling up the blanket to Hao’s chin as he naps. Matthew turns away, only a distant twinge of jealousy that feels more like an old scar than a fresh wound. He refocuses his attention on Taerae who, to Matthew’s dismay, seems to be asleep. His eyes are closed and his breath is even, in and out. Delicate curls of his light brown hair, so close in shade yet so far in distance from his Boy’s Planet first appearance, frame his face elegantly, even in slumber. Matthew is filled with a sudden terrible urge to brush the strands from his eyes, but through sheer willpower keeps his arms at his sides.
Instead, he wistfully looks at Taerae and sighs despondently. I guess it’s mission failed, he thinks. He tugs the slip of paper from his jeans pocket that he had written his apology on. He had this whole thing memorized--he was planning on doing it right. All he can do now is softly murmur the words while wishing he could go back in time and somehow fix his mistakes.
The speech is clumsy and imperfect and goes something like: Hi, Taerae. I’m sorry for what I said the other night. I realized that I invalidated your feelings and said some really hurtful things. I shouldn’t have presumed I knew the extent of what you felt in comparison to me. I know Everyone sees the depth to which you care about all the members, and how you go out of your way to check in on us, comfort us when we’re down, and be a reliable and calming presence for our team. I want to be selfish I want to let you know that I, above all people, truly appreciate you for how you have cared for me and befriended me, even if I’m awkward and bad at Korean and just well you know how I am. I especially want to thank you for being so understanding and patient with me about the whole Hanbin thing. I know you knew about it way back in Boy’s Planet, when not many other people did. I was scared of people knowing and I still am but you made me feel seen then and now. You understood the way I felt and didn’t blame me for it, which I haven’t even learned how to do. That’s why I wanted to tell you I wanted to let you know how much that meant to me. You’re the only person outside of Keita and Jiwoong who knows about… well all this, and they never understood you didn’t judge me for it. That’s why I’m also truly sorry for what I said--I, of all people, should know what it feels like to have your feelings invalidated, to just be told to get over it. Especially because I’m not someone who feels the same way you do and I don’t know your labelmates well, I shouldn’t have presumed anything, let alone that you couldn’t or didn’t feel as deeply about them as I did for Hanbin. I’ll work harder in the future to never do that to you again and learn and understand without judgment more about who you are and the people you love, just as you have done for me. I know this isn’t the best speech apology, but I really am sorry. And I understand if you can’t forgive me, I mean I might not if I were you either. But please If you could accept my apology, and maybe forgive me, could you let me know? I
Matthew read through the paper again and then crumpled it up. A hot rush of self-vitriol rushed through him, and he remembered, as he always did on the very worst days, the way he had felt when Hanbin had told him he was selfish. He remembered the way his stomach had dropped like he was strapped to a roller coaster, and the whole world had tilted, and in that moment he had realized Hanbin would never love him. Not like that.
Tears prickled stubbornly at the corners of his eyes and he blinked them away furiously. A dull ringing sound rose in his ears as he stuffed the paper into the front pocket of his seat. He turned away from Taerae, still sleeping, and faced the aisle. While doing so, he briefly met the eyes of Hanbin, who immediately noticed something was off. A look of concern came over his face, and a question, but Matthew was too upset to care. He merely shook his head and tried his best to go to sleep.
***
Taerae sometimes hated that he found it extra tough to fall asleep during the day, because he had not had a single blink of rest during the very stressful plane ride back to Seoul. Now, he was cranky and moody, wading through crowds with the rest of his members as they tried to make it out of the airport alive. Not only that, Matthew had somehow gotten even more depressed since they had left Tokyo. It was as if his pet had died on that plane; Taerae could almost feel the sadness seeping out of him into the air. This didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else; Gyuvin kept shooting Matthew questioning looks (which Matthew either ignored or didn’t see), and Hanbin kept trying to get to Matthew, face full of leader concern, but he was hindered by the more daunting demand of making sure everyone made it to the vans in one piece. Eventually, Taerae, Matthew, Gyuvin, Hao, and Yujin went to one car, while the rest filed onto the other. Hao and Yujin were bickering about something or another, probably Hao nagging again, while Gyuvin was uncharacteristically quiet, shooting Matthew more frequent looks by the minute. Taerae could feel a raging headache coming on, so he replugged his AirPods and determined to get some more rest. As soon as he closed his eyes, however, Gyuvin leaned over him to whisper loudly:
“Matthew-hyung, is everything alright?”
Taerae felt Matthew stiffen next to him, then try to force himself to relax slightly. Classic Matthew, trying to pretend like everyone can’t already tell how he’s feeling just from his face. “I’m fine, Gyuvinnie. Just a bit tired.”
“....Okay,” Gyuvin replies, voice laden with disbelief. To Taerae’s relief, it seems like Gyuvin decides not to pry for the time being, settling back into the seat next to him. Taerae feels Matthew turn to look lightly out the car window, as they drive back toward their dorms.
***
Stepping off the car, Matthew knew he had to shower immediately. Never mind the general grossness of being on a plane for hours, but he felt a bit clammy and nauseous too, likely due to the doomed relationship between him and Taerae. He knew he was being dramatic, but then again he was good at that, so he might as well stick with it.
“Hey, I call shower first!” He exclaims lightly as they roll to a stop outside the dorm. The sky is basically dark by now, but it’s not likely any of them will be sleeping soon, so he presumes that they will be fine waiting for him to go first. He doesn’t take the longest showers, but his hair is sometimes tough to work with due to the bleach and dye, so he usually saves himself toward the end.
“Actually, I called shower first back on the plane,” It’s Taerae, clambering out of the van after Matthew. Gyuvin and Yujin stand a little to the side, the beginning of discomfort showing as they sense an argument incoming. Hao has already wandered off, presumably to find Hanbin as their van pulls into the parking lot after them. Matthew can’t even find it in himself to be irritated or jealous. All he feels is a strange stabbing pain, right over his heart, as he feels Taerae’s frosty demeanor surround him like ice. This is impossible, Matthew thinks, hit by a sudden bout of hopelessness. He doesn’t see how he can fix this, not without Hanbin’s intervention (and what an awkward conversation that’ll be).
“Oh sorry, I didn’t know, uh, that’s fine,” Matthew stumbles slightly over his words. Gyuvin and Yujin are distinctly edging away from them. Suddenly, before Taerae can retort, Gyuvin bends down and picks up a piece of paper, crumpled at the edges, which had fallen onto the ground from the car.
“Hey Taerae, this is yours!” Gyuvin says. Matthew notes with dawning horror that that paper is definitely not Taerae’s seconds before Taerae takes it from Gyuvin. Matthew makes an aborted attempt to grab at the paper as it passes between their hands, but Gyuvin jerks away at the last second. Taerae looks at him oddly and Matthew starts pressing his hands to his cheek, a nervous habit.
“Uh, actually, I think--um, thatmightbemine,” Matthew mumbles the last part under his breath as he watches Taerae skim over the messily scrawled lines. Silently, Matthew curses himself for using Korean. If he wrote in English--he could’ve just translated it-- it’s all over, he thinks, in despair. Rounding on Gyuvin, Matthew is about to start furiously lecturing when he realizes Gyuvin and Yujin have disappeared. Actually, all of the members have entered the dorm. The sound of them milling about is distant and familiar, assuming their manager has the door propped open for Matthew and Taerae to join.
Turning back to Taerae, Matthew winces as thunderclouds gather on his face. Before he can explain himself, Taerae crumples the paper and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. Mouth agape, Matthew watches as he turns and marches straight to the door.
***
Taerae knows right off the bat that he shouldn’t be reading whatever Gyuvin handed to him. First of all, the handwriting is definitely not in his neat, rhythmic penmanship, and the Korean spelling is abysmal. Second of all, he recognizes Matthew’s way of writing almost immediately. It’s hard not to, considering he’s the only one with that level of vocabulary. Anyway, as soon as he realizes it’s Matthew’s, he gets the urge to crumple it back up and throw it away, but before he can do so, the flash of his name on the first line catches his eye. Hey, Taerae, it reads, in Matthew’s almost unidentifiable handwriting. I’m sorry.
An ugly emotion rises in his throat; he finds himself blinking back hot, angry tears, tinged with the kind of bitterness often found in childhood, in arguments with his parents. Now, more than ever, Taerae feels the weight of an unfair world and the ashy aftertaste of hope wasted.
Wordlessly, he crumples up the piece of paper for the second time and stuffs it in his pocket before stalking away toward the dorm’s open door without sparing Matthew a glance. He can tell their manager is growing impatient, waiting for Matthew and him to come inside, so he ducks through the doorway with a mumbled apology before slipping off his shoes and sliding into his slippers. He doesn’t wait for Matthew to catch up, even though he can feel his gaze like a scorching brand, following him deeper into the house.
“Taerae,” Matthew calls, almost tripping over his feet as he hurriedly enters. Taerae pointedly ignores him, knowing their squabble is drawing the attention of more members as time goes on. Gyuvin and Ricky, who are playfighting over something on the couch, stop to look curiously as Matthew, panting, rushes after Taerae. Taerae only nearly stops himself from slamming his bedroom door shut in Matthew’s face. The sound of muffled voices comes from the living room, but he can’t bring himself to care, furiously grabbing various articles of clothing from his drawers as he prepares to take a shower. Of course, he’s aware that eventually Jiwoong will be drawn to the commotion and come to confront him, no doubt after Matthew goes back to their shared room with that same dejected, distraught look all over his face that he’s been carrying since KCON.
Unsurprisingly, not even five minutes later, there’s a gentle but firm knock on Taerae’s door. He can tell it’s Jiwoong; he’s not really asking Taerae if he can come in, but asking him to be cooperative. Taerae scowls, slumped halfway in bed scrolling on his phone absentmindedly, before he huffs and gets up to open the door. Lo and behold, he opens it to see Jiwoong’s familiar hyung face, the one he always used in Back Door to coax the dongsaengs into making up after whatever petty squabble had happened that day.
“Yes, hyung?” Taerae asks, saccharine sweet. Jiwoong is not fooled, rolling his eyes slightly before reaching behind him to pull a reluctant Matthew forward. Taerae feels a jolt of something akin to guilt when he realizes Matthew has been crying. He’s hastily wiped away his tears but his face is still red and eyes slightly puffy. Jiwoong must have caught him trying to privately cry in their room and forced him to talk, since Matthew seems less than excited to be there.
“Alright, you two,” Jiwoong starts, a note of impatience and affectionate exasperation in his voice. “Neither of you are showering until you guys figure out whatever is going on. Don’t make me invite Hanbin and the rest of the members to sit in on a formal conversation, okay?” With that, he nudges Matthew over the threshold of Taerae’s room and closes the door on both of them. Matthew, caught off guard, stumbles slightly into Taerae, who, out of habit or instinct, steadies him with a hand around his wrist. Before Taerae can say anything, Matthew pulls away almost ashamedly and clears his throat, in obvious discomfort. All Taerae can think to do is close his eyes, rub at his eyebrows to alleviate his returning headache, and take a few deep breaths. He can already tell this will not be a fun conversation.
***
Matthew briefly considers fleeing Taerae’s room the way he had come until he hears the sound of running water in the adjacent bathroom. Probably Jiwoong, he thinks wryly. He really meant that neither of them were showering until they finished talking this out, if the high pitched voices in Ricky and Gyuvin’s room as they prepared to wash up was anything to go by.
He had initially thought he could hide out in their tiny patio/balcony, since Jiwoong was just lazing around in their shared room and Ricky and Gyuvin were messing around in the living room. Before he had even made it across their room, however, Jiwoong had perked up from where he was sprawled. The weird sixth sense he had for all of Matthew’s moods never stopped surprising him.
“Matthew-yah,” Jiwoong calls, gently, delicately, asking him so much in so little words. It had always been like this between them, with Hanbin too. For a while, Matthew had wondered what it would take to give in, to fall into Jiwoong’s inviting aura and let it encompass him wholeheartedly. But Matthew knew he didn’t, couldn’t love Jiwoong in that way, no matter how much he truly cherished and relied on him. Matthew knew Jiwoong knew this, too, and had never pressed for more, which Matthew was eternally grateful for and envious of. If only he knew how to be just as selfless, for once.
“Yes, hyung?” Matthew replies, shortly. He knows he’s being unfair, that Jiwoong doesn’t deserve his resentment, but at that moment, he wishes he would just leave him alone.
Jiwoong, of course, doesn’t buy it for a second. “Is something wrong?” he asks, now fully sitting up. His hair is untidy and his clothes are rumpled from the long hours of travel and sleep, and the warm bedside light shrouds him in a soft orange-yellow. Matthew is reminded involuntarily of his sister, his mother, and the cozy kitchen of his childhood home, lit with that same glow. A wave of homesickness hits him with a strength that leaves him breathless, and suddenly, he’s barely holding back sobs as tears pour down his cheeks. Jiwoong immediately swings his legs over the side of the bed and rushes over, scooping Matthew into a hug that is familiar and sweet and undeserving.
“Matthew-yah, it’s okay,” Jiwoong soothes Matthew; deja vu from all the Boy’s Planet nights that litter their history. In another world, Matthew thinks, but is quickly distracted when Jiwoong’s hand finds his eyes to rub away at his tears. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Hyung wants to help.”
“I-It’s nothing,” Matthew lies. Jiwoong doesn’t believe him, he can tell, so he decides on a half-truth. “I-I’m just, feeling a l-little down. T-Taerae--” At his name, a fresh onslaught of tears comes up, and Matthew can’t speak for sobbing for a few seconds. He can’t believe this. He’s almost 22 years old, a full-grown adult man, and he’s crying in his room like a teenage boy.
“Ah, okay, okay,” Jiwoong shushes Matthew gently, with affection and concern. “You don’t have to say anything more. Let’s go to Taerae’s room, yeah?” At that, Matthew vehemently shakes his head no, a bolt of terror striking through his chest. He doesn’t want to be around Taerae right now. He couldn’t take it.
“C’mon, Matthew-yah. When people get into conflicts, you have to talk to them to fix the problem. You have to communicate with each other well, especially now that we’re in a group together. It’s Taerae, he will understand.” Jiwoong smiles encouragingly at Matthew. “He loves you, just like the rest of us.”
Matthew wants to protest, to say that he doesn’t, not after what Matthew did. But before he can say anything, Jiwoong is already propelling him out the door and into the hall, past the two maknaes who can clearly tell that Matthew has been crying (Jiwoong silences any questions with a look).
“Here, I’ll knock and you go in after, okay?” Jiwoong confirms with Matthew. Matthew just pouts, trying to deter Jiwoong with pleading eyes, but Jiwoong shakes his head in exasperation before stopping in front of Taerae’s door. It’s quiet; it seems like Taerae has either fallen asleep or is laying in bed, scrolling on his phone. Without pause, Jiwoong raises a hand and gives an authoritative knock. Matthew smiles slightly as he recognizes the way Jiwoong always used to knock on Matthew’s door, whenever he wanted to speak to him. It brokered no argument, really.
The sound of Taerae padding through the room stirs Matthew out of his thoughts. Hastily, he wipes at any leftover tears just as Taerae opens the door. Jiwoong is basically standing between him and Taerae, so Matthew takes the chance to try and sneak away, but Jiwoong probably already knew he had that thought in mind, hand shooting out to grasp Matthew’s wrist and pull him forward.
“Alright, you two,” Jiwoong’s tone is understanding but firm. He really means business, Matthew thinks. “Neither of you are showering until you guys figure out whatever is going on. Don’t make me invite Hanbin and the rest of the members to sit in on a formal conversation, okay?” The warning is evident to Matthew-- don’t make me burden Hanbin with unnecessary drama --and a fresh rush of shame colors his cheeks. Matthew has only ever been burdening Hanbin.
Before Matthew has time to think, he’s being moved into Taerae’s room with a little more force than necessary. Jiwoong closes the door behind them as he trips and falls toward Taerae. Out of habit, Taerae catches him, secure and dependable, and steady as always. Matthew flushes more and pulls away, his heart beating extra fast. It’s just the nerves, he thinks, ignoring the way he had zeroed in on the point of contact between Taerae’s calloused palm, and his elegant fingers wrapped around his wrist.
With a heavy sigh, Taerae turns around to go slump back against his bed. Since the dorm is divided into five and four, Taerae is the only one with a single room. It suits him; he’s never seemed lonely, per se, but a little apart from the rest of them like a boat a bit further out at sea. It’s welcoming and melancholy, all at once.
The awkward silence that follows has Matthew wanting to climb out of his skin. He looks anywhere but at Taerae; the ceiling, the floor, the bedposts. He decidedly does not let his eyes linger on the exposed skin of Taerae’s neck, the slight flush of his cheeks, or the light curls of his hair.
“Well?” Taerae asks, after another moment. His tone is cold and sharp, unforgiving as polished steel. Matthew curls a little in on himself. He avoids Taerae’s gaze and instead opts to study a random spot of paint on the bedroom wall, a little above his right shoulder. The black, worn-out T-shirt Taerae sports is definitely one of the WakeOnez, Matthew notes with slight surprise. There’s a faded logo in the corner.
“Um,” Matthew offers, then cringes inwardly. Stop being so pathetic, he scolds himself. Mustering up some semblance of courage, he continues. “I guess I’m here to apologize.”
“You guess??” Taerae’s voice had taken on a tone of barbed disbelief. He scoffed, the noise making Matthew wince. “Well, if you’re not so sure, I suggest you come back when you actually have something to say.”
“No-- wait!” Matthew takes a step closer to Taerae, whose unsympathetic gaze holds him back. He’s never seen those eyes so distant. “I mean-- I really am here to apologize. I’m sorry.” Matthew says, in full honesty. He can’t stop the next words from pouring out of his mouth. “I’m really, truly sorry for what I said. I should never have said it-- I won’t ever do it again. I’m sorry.” He finishes, lamely. His mind is blank and his hands are shaking. He should’ve known this would never work.
Taerae thinks for a moment before he reaches over to the bedside table. Matthew barely stops himself from flinching back, but Taerae catches the movement and his features soften, if just for a moment. “This is yours, I think.” He’s holding the crumpled and torn piece of paper with Matthew’s apology. “I haven’t read it.”
“Oh,” Matthew says, a little dumbfounded at the sudden change in topic. He hesitates, then: “I wrote that because I-- well, I’m not the best at saying-- what I mean, sometimes.” He groans, frustrated. “I thought, maybe, having it written down would help me-- remember. What I wanted to say. What I need to say.” He tried to convey all of his desperation and regret in his voice. Taerae just looks at him, calculating. Matthew shivers; whether at the chilly atmosphere or Taerae’s gaze, he isn’t sure.
“Have it back, then,” Taerae offers it to Matthew. Tentatively, Matthew reaches and takes it, fingers brushing against Taerae’s. A spark shoots up his arm at the contact, like static electricity.
“Um, okay,” Matthew clears his throat awkwardly, then looks down. His eyes skim over the words, but unfortunately, they’re swimming in so many tears so that he can barely read what he wrote. He’s crying again. Trying to calm down, Matthew closes his eyes and crumples the paper a third time, against his chest.
“Taerae, I-- I’m sorry.” Matthew’s trying. So, so hard. He’s never tried harder. “I said some truly hurtful things out of misunderstanding. I was narrowminded and just… so caught up in myself. I was so self-centered. I didn’t realize--the courage it must have taken to confide in me--and I just threw it all away. I acted horribly. I never--I promise, Taerae,” at this, Matthew finally found the courage to meet Taerae’s gaze. It was like staring straight into the center of the sun. It stripped him bare and left him with nothing. No pretenses.
With Taerae, he was just Matthew, all of his good and bad, all of him.
“I promise I won’t ever break your trust like that again,” Matthew says, fervent and quiet. He tries hard to keep meeting Taerae’s unwavering gaze. “And thank you, for trusting me with… with everything. I’ll work harder to be worthy of it in the future.”
For a few agonizing seconds, nothing changes. Taerae is still as far and cold as a star in the night sky. But slowly, his eyes soften, and a smile spreads slowly across his face. It’s like the sunrise, Matthew thinks, a little stupidly.
With a sigh, Taerae opens his arms. Matthew is confused for a moment before Taerae beckons, and then he’s crashing into Taerae, bowling both of them over in his bed. There’s the sound of laughter--Matthew realizes it’s Taerae, and the sound is like the tinkling of ice against a glass of water in the summertime.
“Oh, Matthew,” Taerae says, finally. His tone is still more guarded, more formal than usual--Matthew can tell he hasn’t fully forgiven him. Not yet. That’s okay, Matthew thinks. One step closer.
“Taerae-ah,” Matthew borderline whines, then buries his face in Taerae’s chest. He smells like sweat and cologne, like bedsheets. He smells like home.
They stay like that, for a while. Eventually, Matthew can feel his eyes slipping shut. He’s content and warm and his heart is full, for the first time in a long time. He hasn’t even thought about Hanbin once. Matthew can feel Taerae’s breathing evening out, as well. They’re all so tired, from everything.
A light knock on the door startles both of them out of their dozing. Before Matthew can do anything but sit up slightly, Gyuvin opens the door. His eyes widen at the… scene that greets him.
“Yah, Gyuvin!” Taerae half-yells. “You’re supposed to wait for me to say come in before you open the door!”
“It’s not my fault you guys are… doing that!” Gyuvin gestures wildly at them, face a picture of innocence. Matthew knows better, though; Gyuvin’s probably been eavesdropping on them for a while now.
“We’re not doing anything,” Matthew protests, but then Jiwoong and Ricky appear behind Gyuvin, peering over his shoulders. Matthew removes himself swiftly from Taerae’s bed and tries to stand up, almost tripping on the blankets that had half-spilled on the floor in the process.
“Okay, okay,” Jiwoong alleviates the commotion with his level tone, but Matthew can detect a hint of amusement, too. “Time for everyone to let Taerae and Matthew shower.”
“Together??” Ricky asks, obviously misunderstanding Jiwoong (he sometimes took Korean a little too literally). At that, Gyuvin lets out a bark of laughter and Jiwoong also starts giggling, confusing Ricky even more. Matthew feels his entire chest and face flushing bright red and makes sure not to look at Taerae.
“Please, all of you, get out of my room,” Taerae is also up, shoving Jiwoong and Gyuvin away from the doorframe. Ricky is still standing, mouth agape. Matthew avoids all of their glances and makes to walk out of the room too, until he feels Taerae’s hand on his wrist. “Wait,” Taerae says. Of course I will, Matthew thinks. He turns slowly. He’s holding his breath, for some reason. Taerae looks at him for a long moment, arrested in motion, his eyes like molten lava. But the moment passes as quickly as it comes. Taerae just shakes his head slightly and pats Matthew gently on the shoulder. It leaves a tingling sensation that Matthew knows is not normal.
“Thank you,” Taerae states, straightforward, unyielding. Just like he always is. “I accept your apology.”
Matthew nods, hardly daring to believe what he hears. Then he turns around and walks back to his room, his entire body buzzing. He doesn’t even notice Jiwoong and Gyuvin, talking in hushed tones in the living room. He’s never felt more alive, more at home.
***
Filming Camp ZeroBaseOne is a novel experience, one that Matthew thinks he might not ever get again. So he takes extra care to appreciate every moment and forces himself to stay up even when he’s sleepy, just to spend a few more minutes with his members, free from the burden of idol life, even if only temporarily.
It happens in Jeju-do, the last night of their stay. All of them had piled into the big living room; Hanbin and Hao, like always, squished together on the beanbag couch, Matthew facing them on the opposite side. Seeing all three of them together like this, Hanbin, Hao, and Matthew, is not new to their members, or any of the other trainees at Boy’s Planet. But it’s been a long time since Matthew has really felt more than that brief flash of envy, so removed it’s like looking down a dusty, school hallway at a childhood friend. The dynamic is easy as it’s never been before; no more guilt, no more sidelong glances, no more longing. Hanbin and Hao are happy, and Matthew is happy for them, if not a bit jealous of what they have. He’s just a little selfish like that, or maybe he just grew up too used to being loved.
Taerae settles himself across from Matthew, next to Jiwoong and Yujin, Ricky and Gyuvin and Gunwook piled in the corner. Matthew catches himself staring, not at Hanbin and Hao, but over them, at Taerae, more than once throughout the night. This, now this, is truly the problem.
He can’t pinpoint when it started. Maybe it never really had a definitive beginning, Taerae-and-Matthew, Matthew-and-Taerae. Maybe it was that hallway encounter, so long ago. Maybe it was that dark and tearful night, in a dimly lit hotel in another country. Maybe it was Matthew’s apology, now it seems, eons ago. They had almost mechanically fallen back into their easy camaraderie afterward, even though it had taken Taerae a few days to fully open up with affection again. But Matthew had been willing to wait; then, and now. He was always willing, if it was Taerae.
Maybe it didn’t really matter when it started; Taerae was just always there, steadfast and loyal, and like the sun in Matthew’s life. He couldn’t remember a time he lived without it, not really. It hadn’t been living, that haunting, ripped-apart feeling, during Boy’s Planet.
They’re casually discussing the next day’s plans as Matthew drifts in and out of sleep, drowsy and warm and surrounded by people he loves. Taerae’s soft, smooth laughter covers him lightly in a layer of warmth, and he thinks briefly of his mother’s stories at the kitchen table. The jolt of homesickness is almost expected and not entirely unwelcome; recently, he’s learned how to live with one-half of him always missing his family, across the world. Taerae had helped when he had first found Matthew crying about it, as he tended to do.
It’s deep into the night when Matthew wakes up, suddenly and for seemingly no reason. The house is quiet and dark, the thrumming of insects outside the only sound. His members are all around him; some have shifted in the course of the night, as he spots Gyuvin and Gunwook practically on top of each other and Ricky somehow halfway across the room. Taerae is sleeping alone, like Matthew, the clean lines of his face blending well with the blankets pulled to his chin. He’s even sleeping on his back, Matthew notes, amused, like some sort of Sleeping Beauty. Now that Matthew is awake, he lies there just thinking for a few moments before he decides he might as well go to the bathroom before he tries to go back to sleep. He slowly extricates himself from the bundle of blankets that is over Hao, Hanbin, and his couch, and pads softly out of the room, winding cautiously between sleeping bodies. In the hall, he grapples half-blindly for the bathroom light before flicking it on.
He’s washing his hands when he hears a slight commotion coming from somewhere else in the house, what seems to be the kitchen. Instantly on high alert, Matthew shuffles out of the bathroom and peers down the hall. Their managers are with them, some sleeping in the house and some in the other joined one, but Matthew is still nervous. Breaking and entering isn’t really a thing in Korea, but Canada is a different story.
“Hello?” He calls, his voice hoarse from sleep. No answer, but whoever it is instantly stills. He moves slowly down the hall, wondering if he should grab a decorative piece from the wall as a weapon. “Hello?” He calls again, a bit louder. This time, he hears a sharp intake of breath. Okay, someone is definitely here, he thinks. Snatching a vase from the hallway table, he takes a deep breath and rounds the corner, only to find Taerae standing like a ghost behind the kitchen counter. A lone light is on, flickering slightly; it gives Taerae a look as if he’s paper thin, in danger of being blown away by the wind.
For a second, Matthew is filled with relief. It’s just Taerae, he thinks. Thank God it’s not an intruder. He lets his hand with the vase fall down and then notices something that makes his heart drop. Taerae is crying.
***
Taerae had been laying awake for a time, long after his members had gone to sleep, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and chest brimming with too many feelings. He had been so happy, these past few days, spending basically a paid vacation with his members, his groupmates, and his ZeroBaseOne. The debut was a month and a half away, now, so close and tantalizing far at the same time. But it was finally within his grasp. Every day it hit him a little harder, a little closer to home. He was really about to debut. He was really about to become an idol.
With that thought comes, like clockwork, the images of WakeOnez. Their names flit through Taerae’s mind, an old habit from Boy’s Planet he hasn’t been able to break. Every time before an elimination, he had prayed on those names, one at a time. Eventually, it became a ritual he did every time he got nervous; before performances, before the finale, before KCON, before their first photoshoot. Every night before a big event, he would know instinctively that he would not get any sleep. It was just how he was, in his wiring.
Sometimes Taerae wished he was a little less molded by his parents. A little less rigid.
Besides, this time, it wasn’t even a big event. Sure, it was their last night in Jeju-do, right before their last day filming Camp ZeroBaseOne. He hadn’t even been this nervous before the first night of filming, although that was likely because they hadn’t even known it was going to start then. For some reason, Taerae thinks this must be his last chance. His last chance to prove to everyone that he isn’t hung up on them anymore. That he really is a member of ZeroBaseOne.
With that thought, Taerae decides he really should get up, take a walk, and clear his head. He’s been thinking so much recently about his place in this group, it surely isn’t healthy. Maybe the Jeju-do air will calm him down somewhat. Before he can move, however, he hears stirring across the room, beyond Hao and Hanbin. Matthew, Taerae thinks, before he closes his eyes and forcefully evens his breath in a display of sleeping. He listens closely as Matthew turns, then as he gets up to go to the bathroom. He hears Matthew switch on the bathroom light and shut the door before he deems it safe to open his eyes. He lays there, a little breathless, for a few seconds, before he gets up so violently that he almost topples over onto Yujin and Jiwoong. He catches himself in a blind daze, probably making much more noise than he should as he swiftly makes his way down the hall, past the light filtering under the bathroom door, around the corner, and into the kitchen. Back facing the wall, he tries to catch his breath. Spots float in and out of his vision, and he feels his hands and feet start going numb. A tear drips down his face, and his tongue darts out to catch it.
Fuck, Taerae thinks, right before he hears Matthew’s voice from down the hall. “Hello?” he sounds a little alarmed, Taerae notes, but that is all his mind allows him to take in before it's back to the familiar mantra. Lee Jeonghyeon, the voice in his head repeats frantically. Mun Junghyun. Park Hanbin. Park Minseok. Over and over again.
“Hello?” This time, Matthew’s voice is closer, just around the corner. Taerae is acutely aware, with an alarming sense of terror, that if he comes around the corner he will be able to see him. Like this. Taerae’s never cried in front of Matthew before. Not in front of any of his members.
Before he can even try to speak through his tears, Matthew rounds the corner, holding a vase almost comically as if he is about to go up to bat. Distantly, Taerae knows in another situation he probably would’ve laughed at the image, but he feels strangely detached from his corporeal existence. Barely tethered. Barely there.
“Taerae?” Matthew exclaims, lowering the vase. He’s evidently taken aback, Taerae can tell, his face a mixture of shock and concern. “Is everything okay?”
Taerae nods jerkily, not trusting his voice. Matthew sets the vase down on the kitchen table and crosses the room in long strides, gathering Taerae up in his arms. Taerae’s stiff as a board, unable to let himself relax into the embrace. Matthew, undeterred, softly rubs his hands up and down Taerae’s back. Pulling away, Matthew’s dark eyes give him a worried once-over, before he catches on to Taerae’s gasping breaths and shaking hands.
“Okay, baby,” Matthew’s voice pierces through the fog in his brain like a beam of light, and Taerae latches on to it like a ship to a lighthouse in a storm. He barely notices the pet name. “Let’s breathe with me, okay? Breathe, ready, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, good, now exhale, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.” Matthew pauses for a second to take Taerae’s hand, and his breath starts speeding up again. His hands are shaking so hard, Matthew has to press them to his chest. “You’re okay. Focus on me, focus on my voice. Can you feel my hand?” Taerae nods, still disoriented and detached from his body. He can feel Matthew’s solid warmth, though, pressed all along him. And his hand, clutching his, fingers small and smooth like a baby’s. “Okay, let’s breathe again. Ready? In, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, okay, now breathe out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. You’re doing so well. Keep going, just focus on me.”
Taerae uses all of his willpower to bring himself back down, back to his body. He breathes with Matthew, zeroes in on Matthew’s touch, his presence the only thing that seems real in a world that is still spinning. Sometime later, he can feel his hands and feet again, and he realizes he’s basically stopped shaking. His breathing evens out as Matthew falls silent, once again rubbing up and down his back. Finally, Taerae finds his voice. “Matthew?” it’s raspy and painful from hyperventilating, but Matthew nods against him.
“Yes, it’s me,” Matthew confirms, gently, patiently. “How are you feeling now?”
“I’m… okay,” Taerae says, hesitantly. Matthew makes a move as if to pull away, and Taerae instinctively grips him tighter. He didn’t notice when he had put his arms around Matthew.
“Okay, that’s good,” Matthew says, going willingly. He’s still rubbing his back, now in circles. Taerae focuses on that, scared of letting his mind go again. He feels the WakeOnez at the back of his head, taunting him. Always taunting him.
“I’ve got you, okay? Don’t worry,” Matthew reassures him. “Do you want to try and sit down?”
Taerae realizes he has been standing this entire time, so he nods weakly. Matthew smiles up at him, all curves in the dim light, and moves him to the kitchen table, slowly, with care. Taerae senses something else, something new rising in him. He doesn’t want to name it for fear of what it could mean, for him.
They sit next to each other, practically wound together, for a few more minutes. Taerae’s breathing is finally back to normal. Matthew notices this at the same time and pulls slightly away to look at him. Taerae’s grip tightens momentarily before he lets go, just enough. Matthew just smiles and searches his face, before offering: “Do you want a glass of water? I can go get you some.”
“Okay,” Taerae agrees. His voice still shakes slightly, but he forces himself to stay calm and listens to the sounds of Matthew grabbing glasses from the kitchen cabinet, the opening of the faucet, and the water filling the cup. Matthew returns with two glasses of water, offering one to Taerae. He takes it with steady hands.
“Drink,” Matthew prompts. Taerae takes a few tentative sips. He gets nauseous sometimes after panic attacks, so he doesn’t want to drink too much just yet even though he knows he’s thirsty and definitely dehydrated. Matthew nods in approval, watching him closely.
“Sorry about all this,” Taerae stares down at the water in his cup, its unmoving, glassy surface. It reflects his face back to him, angles and bruised shadows. “I didn’t really expect anyone else to be up.”
“It’s totally fine, Taerae-ah,” Matthew brushes it off good-naturedly. He doesn’t seem perturbed at all. Taerae wonders for a moment before he continues speaking. “It’s not like you haven’t done the same for me, the thousands of times you’ve caught me crying at night.”
“That’s true,” Taerae laughs lightly, the sound almost foreign to his ears. “I suppose we’re even, now.”
“Far from it,” Matthew replies mischievously, a twinkle in his eye. He’s looking at Taerae so fondly, it’s almost overwhelming. “I’ve about ten thousand more times I need to catch you crying to be even.”
“Good luck with that,” Taerae jokes, nudging Matthew playfully. Matthew nudges back, a bit too hard, almost upsetting Taerae’s water. They both giggle at that, but Taerae sobers up quickly. Matthew, sensing Taerae’s change in mood, also quiets. He waits, ever patient and ever-present, for Taerae to gather what he wants to say.
“Have you… I mean,” Taerae asks, quietly. “Have you done this sort of thing, before?” Taerae knows Matthew knows what he means.
He shrugs. “My mom,” he offers. “And, sometimes, other trainees.”
“Other trainees?” Taerae asks, surprised. He hadn’t known any other trainees, WakeOne or otherwise, who had this sort of… issue. Matthew shrugs again.
“Trainee life is high stress,” Matthew starts. Taerae nods in agreement. “It’s not uncommon, I think.”
“Oh,” Taerae replies. Matthew probably didn’t know it when he said so, just trying to comfort Taerae, but Taerae suddenly feels seen, like he’s never been before. Like he’s translucent, and all his organs are laid bare on the table in front of them. Somehow, knowing Matthew wasn’t judging him for this, didn’t care that he had to help him, even wanted to help him, made him feel safe in a way he never had before. Not even with WakeOnez.
The truth was, Taerae hid his anxiety pretty well in everyday life. The insomnia habits were helpful, in a way. He used to lock himself in a sound studio at WakeOne’s building when the attacks were at their worst. Boy’s Planet hadn’t been as bad, if only because he had been relatively lucky. He was invisible, but at least he wasn’t hated.
It was just the WakeOnez. They had always been his weakness. Sometimes, he was afraid they always would be.
***
Matthew tried to hide the way his heart was still pounding in his chest, and hoped the dim lighting didn’t betray the blush he felt in his cheeks. He was literally supposed to be bringing Taerae down from a panic attack, but all he could focus on other than that deep, overwhelming concern was how close Taerae had been to him, the way Taerae’s breath had felt on his neck, the calluses on his hands. This was truly becoming a problem.
“Yeah,” Matthew tries to keep his voice even. “I mean, trainees during Boy’s Planet too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He wanted to convey how much he meant by that last statement. He knew the stigma this sort of thing had, no matter where you were, but especially in this industry. He needed Taerae to know that Matthew saw him, and loved him for it anyway.
“I know,” Taerae says, after a short while. He’s deep in thought; whenever he is, his brows furrow together and his tongue sticks out slightly to the side. It’s quite endearing. “I just…” Another pause. Matthew waits. He would wait forever.
“I’ve recently been more… well. Anxious than usual.” Taerae chews absentmindedly on his lips, and Matthew’s gaze flicks to the spot before he forces himself to make eye contact. Be normal, he chides himself. “I think… with debut approaching, and Camp ZeroBaseOne ending, I… I haven’t yet proven myself to you guys.”
“Proven yourself?” Matthew can’t help but interject, surprised and almost offended on Taerae’s behalf. “You don’t need to prove yourself to us, Taerae-ah. We’re your members, we’ll love and support you through everything.” He’s proud of the way he doesn’t allow his voice to shake at love. It’s true, all the members love Taerae dearly. He can’t believe he didn’t notice the way Taerae was feeling earlier. He knew for sure that Hanbin wouldn’t have stood for any of it.
“I know, I just-- I just feel like, I miss them all the time,” Taerae’s next words spilled out of him, a rush like a waterfall over a cliff, unrelenting and wild and a little frightening in their intensity. “The WakeOnez. Jeonghyeon, Junghyun, and Hanbin, and even Minseok, even now that he’s… he’s not even in WakeOne anymore.” Taerae’s voice catches at the last part, and Matthew reaches for his hand, to ground him. Taerae smiles briefly in gratitude before continuing. “I can’t stop missing them. It should’ve stopped so long ago-- and plus, I see them almost all the time, at the company. I hang out with them still. But--” Taerae takes a breath and plows on. “It’s not the same. It never will be. It just feels like, sometimes, I betrayed them. My closest friends.” Matthew shakes his head firmly, but Taerae just goes on, too caught up in all of it. “We were supposed to debut together. We always wanted-- We promised each other.” Taerae shakes his head, now. “But now, I’m debuting, and they’re… they’re still WakeOnez. They’re still trainees. I’ve left them behind, Matthew, and it seems like wherever I turn they keep haunting me. I can’t forgive myself. I can’t even focus on my debut, my group, properly.” Taerae’s breathing heavily, tears rolling down his cheeks in a steady stream. Matthew reaches over to brush them away, tentatively and then with more certainty as Taerae doesn’t object. Rare, as Taerae never lets people touch his face.
Matthew gives him a few moments to breathe, rubbing circles in Taerae’s palm. He thinks carefully about what he wants to say, how he wants to say it. How he needs Taerae to know that none of this is his fault. That he’s been doing his best, chasing his dream, and his friends would never hate him for it.
“Taerae-ah,” Matthew starts, choosing his words. His Korean vocabulary is limited, but he’s determined to convey everything he feels if he can. “It’s okay to miss them. I understand why you feel like you betrayed them, like they hate you. But, you know, they don’t hate you. And they definitely don’t think you betrayed them. We’re all the same,” Matthew continues. He can tell Taerae is listening, but he’s nervous, and Korean feels foreign on his tongue in a way it never does, so he focuses on a shadowy wall instead of meeting his eyes. “We all have that same dream--it’s what we came to Boy’s Planet for. And you guys made a promise to each other, to debut together, but sometimes fate, or whatever, God, or whoever has other plans. Life still goes on, and they will debut someday, I’m sure. You’re just doing it a little sooner, but you guys will meet on stage again. We all will.” Matthew realizes he’s thinking of all his eliminated friends, Jay and Kamden, and Keita, especially Keita. He realizes he misses them too, with an ache akin to that constant homesickness he always carries with him.
“I promise you, Taerae,” Matthew gathers himself and finally turns to meet Taerae’s eyes. They steal his breath; if he looks a little deeper, he feels like he might find something he’s written off for himself long ago. “Your friends, your WakeOnez, they love you. They probably miss you too. But they will never hate you. And they would never want you to feel like this, because they know you’ve done nothing wrong. They are proud of you, just like the rest of us.” Matthew insists. “They love you, just like we do.”
This time, he’s not quite able to hide the waver in his voice at love. He’s not lying, per se. It’s just -- he realizes now, or maybe a few hours ago, or maybe a few weeks ago, or maybe all that time ago in that hallway when he had still been broken into pieces -- he loves Taerae in a different way. It’s terrifying and exhilarating to admit to himself, even after all this time.
Taerae is silent for so long, Matthew is afraid he must have said something wrong again. Flashes of hotel rooms and frosty silence send him almost into a fit of panic before Taerae finally says, “I love you too, Matthew.”
***
As soon as Taerae lets those words drop, he feels a split second of fear at the blank confusion on Matthew’s face. Had he been reading all the signs wrong? He wonders. It wasn’t too hard to tell when Matthew was falling for someone; he, after all, had been the only one to figure out his feelings for Hanbin amongst the members other than Jiwoong, who had basically pried it out of Matthew in the first place. He was easy to read like always, wearing his too big heart on his sleeve, and letting his affection run free. But he was still careful with allocating that affection, and Taerae noticed he had recently been on the receiving end more and more frequently. If he tallied up the times Matthew had chosen to cuddle with him rather than Hanbin or Jiwoong, he would honestly probably be first by now. Gyuvin didn’t count, as he usually forcibly wrestled Matthew into his cuddles.
The bits and pieces of Camp ZeroBaseOne had lent support to his theory. Matthew had requested specifically to be with Taerae, then seemed slightly bummed when he couldn’t be the passenger princess. He had brightened up considerably when they had been assigned fruit-protecting (?) as a job together and spent the entire morning teasing Taerae, to Yujin’s exasperation. And there had been tonight, before they had all gone to bed. Matthew had settled, predictably, next to Hanbin and Hao, but his eyes had only been on Taerae. Taerae wasn’t blind; he knew overt romantic affection when he saw it, and Matthew wasn’t one to go without latching onto someone for long, he knew from experience.
His suspicions had been confirmed (or so it seemed) just now, however, when Matthew had first brought him down from his panic attack and talked with him about WakeOnez. Never mind how Taerae felt about Matthew, to be able to open up to him like this when he had not even told his fellow labelmates how he was feeling. Taerae was pretty sure by “other trainees”, Matthew had meant Hanbin specifically (he knew a fellow anxious uptight person when he met one). The most damning piece of evidence, however, was the way Matthew’s voice had wavered on love. Taerae knew that waver was a clear indicator of dishonesty; poor Matthew’s lying skills truly had never improved. He knew that Matthew meant a different sort of love than the one he was talking about.
“I’m so--” Taerae barely had a chance to try and rescue the situation before Matthew had scraped his chair back against the tile, eyes wide with fear and apprehension. He seemed to be expecting Taerae to be far more upset than he was showing.
“I--” Matthew started. He was visibly shaken; Taerae wanted to soothe him, unruffle his feathers. “How long did you know?” He whispered.
“Uh,” Taerae is bewildered for a second until he realizes Matthew is basically admitting to a confession. He just shrugs. “It wasn’t exactly… subtle? I guess.” Matthew is still staring at him, mouth agape, equal parts horrified and ashamed. “I mean, you weren’t like super obvious? But I think-- I mean-- probably since right after KCON.” Taerae sheepishly scratched at his head.
“Right after KCON???” Matthew groaned, putting his head in his hands. Taerae stifled a laugh at the antics; trust Matthew to act as if the whole world had collapsed from a single love confession. “I don’t-- I didn’t even know at that time!”
“Really?” Taerae was surprised. Matthew had practically melted into him, that night after he had apologized. “You didn’t have any inkling whatsoever?”
“Well,” Matthew blushed heavily, the pink creeping down his neck and towards his chest. He was more embarrassed than Taerae had ever seen him, except maybe when Ricky suggested they take a shower together. “I did notice I was feeling differently toward you, but I was just… focused on… other things.”
“Like winning back my favor?” Taerae asks, amused. Matthew scowls and swats him lightly. “Yes! You’re scary when you’re angry.”
“Sorry,” Taerae laughs. Matthew is so cute when he’s like this. “I’ll try not to be angry in the future.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” Matthew starts offhandedly, then bites his lips, eyes wide. He seems to have let something slip he didn’t want to. Taerae is curious, even though he thinks he knows what Matthew is getting at. Still, he isn’t one to stop at a challenge.
“What do you mean?” Taerae asks. His tone takes on a different note, one Matthew notices. He shivers slightly. “Do you want me to be mad?”
“No!” Matthew waves his hands a little desperately, trying to save himself. Too late. “I just mean-- you shouldn’t stop yourself from feeling something… if you… you know. If you’re actually mad.”
“Okay, and it’s totally not because you want me to be mad,” Taerae asks, arching an eyebrow. Matthew shakes his head, but Taerae can tell he’s lying (as always). “I think it’s actually because you want me to be mad.”
“Why would I want you to be mad?” Matthew asks, a nervous laugh coloring his voice. His cheeks are even more flushed if that’s possible, and he’s back to pressing his hand against them, a nervous tick Taerae had noticed since Boy’s Planet days. “I don’t ever want any of the members to be mad.”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it,” Taerae drawls. “I think you want me to be mad because I’m not just any of the other members.”
Matthew shakes his head again. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think it’s because you find me hot when I’m mad,” Taerae offers and watches in delight as Matthew goes bright red and then buries his face in his hands a second time. Taerae’s not into anyone, not really that way, not even Matthew, but he can’t deny that heady rush he feels getting Matthew like this. Just him, he thinks. Only for him.
“Oh my god, please shut up,” Matthew whines, distressed. “Why would you even ask if you already know the answer??”
“So that is why, then?” Taerae teases lightheartedly, and Matthew just grumbles and shakes his head in his hands. So cute, Taerae thinks, a rush of affection leaving him breathless for the second time that night.
After a few moments, both of them calm down enough so that Matthew’s no longer beet red. They sit in comfortable silence, the only sound the ticking of a clock somewhere deeper in the house, until Matthew starts speaking again.
“Taerae, when you--” Matthew hesitates. “When you said that you love me, what did you mean?” Taerae is about to answer until he realizes he can’t because he’s choked up from gratitude and love and just Matthew. Matthew, who always kept his promises. Who would always wait for Taerae. Who would always let him explain.
“I mean,” Taerae begins, then hesitates. He wants to make sure Matthew knows the depth of how he feels, even if it’s not in the same way he might be feeling. “I love you as a groupmate, obviously. I love you as a friend, one of my closest. But-- I also love you in a way that transcends those things, I guess? Not exactly romantically, but--” Taerae thinks, trying to find the right words. He can tell Matthew’s concentrating hard, trying to decipher what Taerae is saying. “I definitely care about you in a different way than I care about any regular friend, or any of the other members. And--” he has a fleeting doubt but pushes it away. After all, it’s Matthew. “I would be willing to pursue, I don’t know-- something more than just friendship? If you’re willing, of course.”
Another silence follows his words, punctuated by only their breaths. The clock is still ticking, somewhere in the distance. Taerae feels a familiar ball of tightness around his chest. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but wonder if Matthew will ever really get it.
***
Matthew, for the second or third or fourth time that night, feels his breath stolen. Taerae must have some sort of superpower, the only one who can always manage to catch Matthew off guard. From the beginning until now, since that hallway so long ago.
“Uh,” Matthew intelligently offers, then clears his throat and tries again. “I think I understand. And-- I’m willing to go as far as you want, Taerae-ah. Or not any further at all-- I’m trying to be, I want to be, whatever you need me to be.” He catches himself before he can say more, before he ends up spilling everything. You teach me how to be less selfish, he thinks.
“Matthew-ah,” Taerae’s voice. It’s addictive, the way it spills out, catching Matthew like a soft cloud, like coming home on the weekends. “I want you as you are. I’ve only ever wanted that.”
Matthew clears his throat again, this time from tears that have sprung up without warning in his eyes. He spent so long, trying so hard, just to be deserving of something like this. He can’t believe Taerae is giving it to him, just like that.
“Okay,” Matthew nods vigorously to hide any tears. “Me-- Me too. I love you, Kim Taerae.” This he says seriously, raising his head to meet Taerae’s gaze. He’s never even looked away. For a second, Matthew sees the hope of infinite futures, right there.
Taerae gazes at him with that indescribable expression for a few more moments. Then, tongue darting out subconsciously to wet his lips, he leans closer. Matthew tears his gaze away from the soft pillow of his lips to meet him head-on.
“Can I kiss you, Matthew?” Taerae asks, pretense gone. He’s all light and dark, like a lone streetlamp on a country road, right after the rain, like a moon in the night sky, devoid of stars. He’s never looked more beautiful.
“O-Okay,” is all Matthew gets out before those lips are on his. It’s warm and a little wet and imperfect, but Matthew lets himself fall into it, lets himself be swept away. For the first time, the cascade of emotions doesn’t scare him; he doesn’t hold himself back, doesn’t keep it in check. For the first time, Seok Matthew lets himself love, freely and without barriers.
The moment is quickly over when the sound of a crash and yelp break them apart. Matthew touches his lips in awe before he’s arrested by the sight of Taerae, eyes hooded and gaze heavy, and a promise there, for more. It’s like staring at the ever-expanding cosmos and feeling like a speck of dust. Then, he’s almost throttled by a pair of arms; lunging across the table at them are Gyuvin and Hanbin, who are somehow both up at the same time and probably have been eavesdropping on them.
“Matthew-hyung, finally!!” Gyuvin joyfully half-yells, jumping up and down. Next to him, Hanbin stands beaming ear to ear. Matthew chances a glance at Taerae, a bashful look he’s never seen on his face. Rolling his eyes, he lightly pushes Gyuvin off him so he can breathe (and stand), and then threatens: “You don’t mention this to any of the other members, or I’ll kill you, okay?” Gyuvin promises but Matthew has no illusions; the secret will definitely be out within the next hour.
“Taerae, Matthew, you should get back to bed,” Hanbin is much more calm, but Matthew can tell he’s thrumming with excitement, like a kid at the beach for the first time. Matthew smiles at him and feels at peace for the first time in a long time.
“Fine, but why were you two up anyway?” Matthew grumbles as all four of them make their way back to the living room. The sky is lightening as the morning approaches, but they probably can get a few hours of sleep in before they’re awoken, undoubtedly by the show crew.
“No reason,” Gyuvin says, a little too casually. Taerae raises his eyebrow at him (Matthew averts his gaze quickly before a blush gives him away) and Gyuvin relents. “Okay, I wanted to get some food from the kitchen, and Hanbin wanted to go to the bathroom, so we went together, except then we both heard you in the kitchen, and we were curious why you were both up, so we hung back a little and listened for--”
“Okay! That’s enough,” Hanbin interjects before Gyuvin can dig himself into a deeper hole; Taerae’s eyebrows have basically flown into his hairline. “Let’s discuss this in the morning. First, it’s sleep time!”
Gyuvin, Matthew, and Taerae roll their eyes at Hanbin’s babying voice but listen anyway, settling down into their respective spots. Gyuvin slumps over Gunwook, who only mumbles slightly and then rolls over. Hanbin slips back onto the couch facing Matthew, while Taerae lowers himself into his lone bed.
“Goodnight, Seokmae-yah,” Hanbin whispers. “Goodnight,” Matthew whispers back, and marvels at the easy affection that spreads through his chest at the nickname, for once untinged by anything else. He glances over at Taerae, whose settled into his blankets. Taerae makes eye contact with him, and a slow smile spreads across his face. Matthew's always loved those dimples. It’s like swimming in melted butter spread across crispy, brown toast, like hot cocoa on a snowy winter night, like the spill of sunshine over a white canvas.
Goodnight, Taerae mouths at him. Matthew mouths it back with a smile, before closing his eyes. In his dreams, he sees only light and warmth and happiness.
Maybe these types of love stories were for him, after all.