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The house was quiet compared to the thunderous noise of the last three days. Three nights of blinding lights, shaking stages, screaming fans. Three days of full schedules, quick changes, and last-minute mic checks. Three days of rehearsal-induced exhaustion, late-night arrangement edits, emotional script readings, and choreography reviews that blurred into early mornings. Jihoon had barely slept in between writing transitions and checking equipment with the sound team, and Soonyoung had been running on pure adrenaline, leading warm-ups, checking stage cues, and keeping morale high.
They poured their everything into it, from the meticulous setlist adjustments to the sentimental VCRs, all to make sure their fans felt loved and remembered. And when it was over, when the last confetti cannon fired and the lights dimmed on the third night, they joined the rest of the members for a quiet late-night dinner. Laughter echoed in the private room, tired but joyful. The members teased them mercilessly, proud and sentimental after watching the fan concert from the audience. After that, Jihoon had pulled Soonyoung into their van, bags tossed in the back, and they traveled through the quiet night to Jihoon’s home. It became their hideaway, tucked between nostalgia and the stillness only lovers shared after something that big.
Jihoon lay on his back, arms folded under his head, the sheets tangle around his hips. His voice felt like sandpaper, and his muscles ached in places he hadn’t even known could ache. But he was breathing. Finally home, in a way that only came when Soonyoung was lying beside him.
Soonyoung let out a long breath, stretching until his toes reached the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing Jihoon’s arm on the way back down. “Three days,” he murmured. “I feel like I haven’t slept since rehearsal week.”
Jihoon let out a dry laugh. “You haven’t.”
They both fell into silence again. The kind that felt like a blanket, soft and warm, settling over tired limbs. The kind they only ever got in private far away from everyone else, far away from cameras, members, managers.
“I miss it already,” Soonyoung said.
Jihoon turned his head to look at him. Soonyoung was on his side now, facing him, hair still damp from the shower, cheeks flushed with leftover adrenaline. There was a softness in his expression that Jihoon knew well. A kind of post-performance melancholy.
“The stage?”
Soonyoung nodded. “Yeah. But not just that. The fans. The energy. Us, all together. I know it’ll come back again, but… it never feels the same, does it?”
Jihoon reached for his hand under the sheets, curling their fingers together. “It doesn’t have to feel the same. Just has to feel real.”
Soonyoung gave him a tired smile. “This feels real.”
Jihoon squeezed his hand. “This is the only thing that ever does.”
“You looked good up there,” Soonyoung said casually, tossing his towel onto the nearby chair, hair tousled and shining. “During your solo. The crowd lost it.”
Jihoon scoffed softly. “Thanks. I almost threw up right before.”
“You always say that,” Soonyoung grinned, crawling up the bed toward him. “And then you absolutely destroy the stage like it’s nothing.”
Jihoon shrugged, looking away. Compliments were hard. Compliments from Soonyoung—who knew every inch of him, every fear and flaw—were harder.
Soonyoung turned to face him fully, folding his legs beneath him. “You know what I kept thinking about?”
Jihoon hummed, eyes half-lidded. “What?”
“That docent from Carat…”
Jihoon groaned. “Stop—I know our fans are already talking about it.”
“Oh, they will never shut up about it.” Soonyoung laughed, warm and fond. “Did you hear their screams when you said ‘I love you’ to me on stage?”
“I did,” Jihoon muttered. “And then you hyped them up. I almost wished for the stage to swallow me whole.”
“You should’ve seen your face,” Soonyoung beamed. “You looked like you wanted to teleport straight out of your body.”
“I did.”
“But you know,” Soonyoung added, a little softer now. “I got a lot of… assurance from hearing that.”
Jihoon shifted slightly, gaze sharpening. “Assurance?”
“Do you sometimes feel like I don’t know how much you love me?”
Jihoon blinked. “Wait. Is that… is that what you think?”
“No, no,” Soonyoung quickly said, taking his hand again. “It’s not that. I’ve always known. We’ve been through so much—middle school, training, debut, those sleepless nights planning our future when we had no idea what we were doing…”
Jihoon’s grip tightened. “I remember.”
“And then one day,” Soonyoung smiled, “my best friend just had to go and fall in love with me.”
Jihoon let out a dramatic sigh. “You were the one who confessed first.”
“But your confession made us boyfriends. Should I remind you what you said that day?”
Jihoon groaned into the pillow. “No, please, don’t. That memory is stored in the vault labeled: ‘Top Five Most Embarrassing Moments of My Life.’”
“You were adorable, Lee Jihoon.” Soonyoung laughed. “Your ears were red the whole time. You couldn’t look me in the eye, and then you panicked and said, ‘It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, I just had to tell you or I was going to combust.’”
Jihoon groaned again, hiding his face.
“I remember because that’s when I kissed you,” Soonyoung added softly. “You don’t always say it. But I’ve never doubted how much you love me. Tonight just reminded me that our fans see it too. That your love for me… it shines through, even when you think you’re being subtle.”
Jihoon was quiet for a long beat, then whispered, “I get scared.”
“Of what?”
“That people will take it away. That this, us, will get questioned or misunderstood. That one wrong word will undo everything we’ve built.”
“I know,” Soonyoung said gently. “That’s why I don’t ask for it all the time. I don’t need you to shout it from the rooftops. I just… I love when you let it slip. I live for those moments. The ones that make me feel like I’m the only one you’re thinking about, even when we’re surrounded by thousands.”
Jihoon sat up and leaned in until their foreheads touched. His voice trembled slightly. “You are. You always are.”
Soonyoung smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “Say it again.”
Jihoon tilted his head and kissed his temple, then his cheek, before whispering against his lips, “I love you, Kwon Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the whole night. “God, I’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.”
“The prod team really did a good job for that Docent segment,” Jihoon said after a moment.
“I got emotional back there,” Soonyoung admitted.
“Is that why you did not finish reading that one from Carat?”
Soonyoung tried to hide it, but his eyes shimmered again. “The moment I read the line: ‘If not for Hoshi, I don’t think I could’ve been an idol,’ I—I was trying so hard not to cry.”
Jihoon smiled, thumb brushing the side of Soonyoung’s hand. “I’m honestly amazed how they remember all that. But really… you’re the one who keeps me moving. Keeps me inspired. My favorite muse.”
“Stop—I’m going to cry!” Soonyoung sniffled, hiding his face in Jihoon’s shoulder.
“My soulmate. My jagiya,” Jihoon continued, voice barely above a whisper. “My everything—”
Soonyoung lifted his head just long enough to press a kiss to Jihoon’s lips. Slow and sure. Tender, but deep—like it was meant to seal every word between them. Jihoon responded just as softly, his hand moving to cup Soonyoung’s cheek, pulling him closer. The kiss lingered, their lips brushing again and again like a promise, like an echo of every time they’d held back in public.
“My producer,” Soonyoung whispered between kisses. He leaned in again, this time slower, sweeter, mouth catching Jihoon’s in a series of deliberate kisses that made time stretch and soften around them. “My husband next.”
Jihoon blinked at him, cheeks warming. “I’m not taking this as a proposal.”
“I’ll propose before we enlist so they’ll know you’re taken and someone is marrying you the moment you step out of the barracks.”
“Your possessive ass.”
Soonyoung laughed, breathless, and hugged him tighter, like the world might try to steal Jihoon if he let go. Like he was memorizing the weight of him all over again.
“We did good,” Jihoon whispered against his collarbone.
“We always do.”
“And you love me.”
Soonyoung smiled, voice warm with pride. “I do.”
“Say it.”
“I love you,” Soonyoung said, then added with a grin, “Even when you hoard the blanket.”
Jihoon pulled back just enough to squint at him. “Oh, so you’re complaining about the blanket now? The blanket is all yours. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I am just kidding!” Soonyoung laughed, tugging him back. “But you need to hug me so I won’t die from the cold.”
“Kwon Soonyoung and your endless reasons,” Jihoon muttered, but his voice was fond, his body already melting back into the embrace.
“We still have a few more stops,” Jihoon whispered after a while, voice barely more than a breath in the hush of the hotel room. “Busan, Gwangju, Japan, Taiwan…”
His words hung gently in the stillness. Then, Soonyoung turned to look at him, eyes shining not from exhaustion but from something deeper. His gaze lingered as if committing every detail of Jihoon to memory. “Then we’ll make the most out of it,” he said quietly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Every single one.”
Jihoon gave a slow nod, his forehead pressing against Soonyoung’s shoulder like he belonged there. “I’ll make sure we do,” he murmured, voice thick with something unspoken but deeply felt.
Soonyoung gently tilted his head and placed a kiss on Jihoon’s forehead, lingering for a moment like a promise. “Thank you,” he said, voice filled with sincerity. “For always staying by my side. For letting me chase stupid ideas and wild dreams, even when they make no sense. For being the reason I keep dancing. For being the reason the stage still feels like home.” He tightened his arm around Jihoon. “Thank you for letting me love you in the ways I know how. For letting me care for you, hold your hand, and call you mine.”
Jihoon’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft exhale escaping him like a release. “Thank you for loving me in ways I never knew I needed. In ways I never dared to ask for. You have my whole heart, you know? Always.”
Soonyoung smiled, a quiet joy blooming in his chest. “I do,” he said, pressing another kiss into Jihoon’s hair. “I always do.”
And in that room, with the echoes of fan chants still ringing in the back of their minds, they let the rest of the world fade away.
Because after all the lights go down, this was their encore. The one no one else got to see.