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Taesan starts wearing tank tops to dance practice.
Which would be perfectly fine, since the rapidly rising temperature has made even the autumn season feel too warm with the blistering sun, and they do have another comeback right around the corner, so their endless rehearsals are bound to make them sweat even more. It also would be perfectly fine, if Jaehyun wasn't crushing so hard on his bandmate for a while now (a whole tragedy on his part, really, much to his despair) and if Taesan's arms didn't look so, so good in those sleeveless shirts.
The last thing he needs is for Taesan to somehow be even more distracting than he already is, with his soft black hair and his sharp jaw and his stupidly beautiful smile. But now there's his arms too, all exposed milky skin that nearly has Jaehyun begging on his knees for mercy.
Were those tank tops tighter than Taesan's usual shirts? Jaehyun isn't too sure, but they were definitely clinging to Taesan’s waist in a way that should be considered diabolical for Jaehyun’s heart. Has Taesan undergone some sort of rigorous upper body routine recently? Again, Jaehyun doesn’t know about that, but he has seen the younger boy spending more time at the gym with Sungho nowadays.
And Jaehyun supposes whatever workouts they must be doing are starting to pay off, because now Taesan looks utterly fantastic and for the life of him, Jaehyun can’t stop staring.
It turns their dance practices into a nightmare. For the most part, the steps they’re practicing for their newest dance are all cute and bubbly, but it also requires a surprising amount of upper body movements. Not to mention, every time Taesan raises his arms above his head, the hem of his shirt rides up, offering a fleeting, maddening glimpse of smooth skin and the tantalizing line of his waist that has Jaehyun feeling too much like a dog drooling over a piece of meat.
At some point, their choreographer calls for a break, granting him temporary reprieve from the war crimes Taesan’s stupid biceps and stupid shoulders and stupid tank tops have unknowingly committed to his nervous system. But when he watches the way Taesan stretches his arms high to the sky, groaning softly from the exertion, Jaehyun closes his eyes and is suddenly very, very sorry.
And he swears up and down that he doesn’t have any weird fetishes or whatever, but has Taesan’s underarms always been that… smooth? Why do they look so soft? And why is Jaehyun even thinking about this?
He's still too lost in his head by the time they finish up the details and little touches here and there, and he's sure everyone's noticed. Especially when he's already fucked up a whole minute of choreography with his unusually flailing limbs and drifting eyes, because he got way too distracted burning holes at the softly muscled lines of Taesan's biceps.
Jaehyun thinks he might actually die.
But he can't, because they have a comeback very soon and everyone's counting on him and their fans are waiting and the world is just so unfair.
He tries his hardest to pretend he isn't rendered completely useless over the curve of Taesan's arms, the dip of his collarbones from where his shirt’s collar has started to slouch down. He also tries to pretend that he doesn’t find Taesan with his arms all exposed to be as attractive as it is, that it doesn't turn Jaehyun’s hands into a sweaty, clammy mess that no amount of wiping against the fabric of his shirt can change.
He tries, he really does, but he fails anyway. Miserably.
The next couple of days, Taesan continues wearing those tank tops.
Just how many of those does that asshole even have? is what Jaehyun thinks. He wills himself to not march over right this instant to where Taesan's standing, forces himself to not press his lips and lick and bite against the tender spread of the younger boy's triceps, because that would be weird.
Still, he can’t help but wonder if Taesan would be sensitive there. If Taesan would squirm and flush prettily if Jaehyun pinned his wrists high above his head, his lips mouthing at the skin of Taesan’s elbow, then even lower…
Jaehyun swallows. No. No, he refuses to go down that mental spiral. Immediately, he shakes the image away, trying not to think about the sudden, untimely heat spreading in his gut. He seriously needs to get his shit together, mostly because he's currently standing in front of everyone to rehearse their formations one more time and—
Shit. They're all staring at him.
"Ah." He flashes what he hopes is a reassuring smile, before clearing his throat and clasping his hands together. "Um. Sorry, I zoned out for a bit. So, uh, where were we?"
"Jaehyun," Sungho says slowly, ever so gentle. He starts walking towards him, worry painting his features, and Jaehyun tries not to back himself against the mirror. "Are you feeling okay? Your face is… concerningly red.”
"I'm fine!" he assures, waving his hands and laughing sheepishly. He really isn't, especially not when Riwoo starts eyeing him in that scrutinizing, amused way of his that has Jaehyun sweating swimming pools.
Sungho nods, but he doesn't look convinced at the slightest. Thankfully though, he doesn’t push, and he must trust Jaehyun enough because he simply gestures for him to continue.
"We were practicing the part after the chorus,” Sungho says, going back to his position. “Remember?"
"Right. Thanks." Jaehyun nods too, and then proceeds to have his throat go incredibly dry when Taesan absentmindedly extends his arms high above his head, stretching out his torso and revealing just a mere two inches of his gloriously toned midriff. Jaehyun’s gaze somehow darts everywhere in just those few seconds.
Abs. Pink elbow. Tricep. Waist. Armpit. Holy shit. Is it weird if Jaehyun wants to lick it?
No, yeah, that’s definitely weird. What the hell has gotten into him?
Taesan doesn’t even hold the position for more than five seconds, but it's still too much. There’s heat rising to Jaehyun’s cheeks that has absolutely nothing to do with the late afternoon and everything to do with the way Taesan looks right now, flushed with sweat and chest heaving slightly from their practice.
Jaehyun averts his eyes.
"So, uh– for this part, the choreographer advised us to go like this,” he starts, demonstrating the movement and watching carefully as the other members copy him. Riwoo sends him a quick nod of approval, so Jaehyun supposes he must be doing something right now. “And remember not to spread your arms too wide! It'll look awkward, and we have to change formation on this exact beat, so keep that in mind."
Taesan meets his stare in the mirror. Jaehyun thinks he might cry.
It's day seven of Taesan wearing those tank tops. A whole week of suffering.
It has Jaehyun wondering why he's noticing it much more now compared to when Taesan would wear similar short-sleeved shirts around the dorm. He supposes it has something to do with how Taesan seems much more confident in his appearance lately — (which is a good thing! Jaehyun’s happy about it, especially since Taesan’s always been one of the most beautiful people he’s ever known, and he works in the damn K-pop industry, where literally everyone is objectively attractive) — and how Taesan’s tank tops are definitely getting tighter by the day.
Then there’s the fact that Jaehyun’s hopeless crush on the other boy only continues to balloon uncontrollably as the weeks pass by, which is something he isn’t quite ready to acknowledge yet.
And, it also takes an entire seven days for Jaehyun to finally gather up his dying resolve because sweet, sweet Lord, were Taesan’s arms sculpted by God himself or something? It takes a while, but he does get better at actually dancing in sync with the others and being a somewhat decent leader.
But, much to his dismay, it’s still not enough, since Taesan's arms are everything glorious and heavenly and they're right there. Jaehyun almost feels like a cannibal, with the way he seriously wants to sink his teeth into the supple flesh of Taesan’s skin, watching marks of pink and red bloom on his pretty skin.
That day, he manages to get through around fifty seconds of choreography before his gaze trails back home to Taesan. He messes up the rest.
Sungho begs him to pay attention.
"You've been awfully out of it lately," Taesan tells him one night, after they chose to stay back for a couple more hours to revise some of their lyrics. Woonhak’s gone out to buy the three of them some refreshments, and Jaehyun’s almost worried he can’t be trusted to be alone with Taesan when he feels like he might jump his bones at any second. Still, the younger boy’s changed into an oversized hoodie now, so Jaehyun thanks the small favours in life. "You doing okay?"
No, Jaehyun wants to reply. Your arms have been way too tempting and sinful and practically asking me to put my mouth on your skin, please for the love of God stop wearing those goddamn shirts.
He doesn't say that. Obviously.
Instead, he opts for a vague wave of his hand, pointedly not staring at Taesan's lips, all pink and soft and pouty—
Jaehyun clears his throat.
"It's probably just the usual anxiety of having a comeback so near, you know?" he says, aiming for nonchalant and missing by a hundred or so miles. Still, Taesan hums in understanding.
Woonhak saunters back in at that exact moment, effectively saving Jaehyun from blurting out anything stupid that could potentially ruin his and Taesan's friendship, something like oh, do you know how your arms are driving me absolutely crazy, please let me kiss them until hickeys start to bloom or do you know how pretty your lips look when you drink water like that, with your head tipped back and your throat bobbing, kindly stop before I fucking kill myself.
He manages to bite back the words. Once again, he thanks the little blessings in life.
Like most days, Jaehyun arrives at the practice room much earlier than the rest of the members, so he’s genuinely surprised to find Riwoo and Leehan already there, waving at him.
Riwoo flashes him a knowing smirk. An unsettling feeling blooms deep in Jaehyun's stomach.
When Riwoo gestures for him to sit down beside him, Jaehyun follows like a fool. Sungho, Taesan, and Woonhak enter just a few seconds later, making their way towards the other side of the room to start their warm-up stretches.
"Hi," Riwoo greets easily. Jaehyun plops down to his side, albeit a bit reluctantly, and Leehan gets up from his original seat on the couch to sit cross-legged beside him. Too late, Jaehyun realizes he's stuck between the two. An ambush.
"So… " Leehan starts, a faux-innocent smile playing ever so slightly on his lips. "Taesan, huh?"
Oh no.
Jaehyun doesn't even bother being discreet when he swallows, his eyes automatically snapping towards the current bane of his existence. Taesan must have run out of tank tops to wear, because now his arms are fortunately fully covered in a lightweight sweater. Except, the universe must not want Jaehyun to know peace, because now Taesan’s wearing shorts. Super short shorts. Jaehyun doesn’t even remember Taesan ever wearing that before.
His eyes immediately drop down, latching onto the expanse of exposed skin. There’s so much leg. So much thigh. So much… Taesan.
Taesan drops into a side lunge, the fabric of his shorts clinging tightly to his hips. Jaehyun dies on the fucking spot.
From his peripheral vision, he catches the other two exchange menacing grins.
"You're being way too obvious," Riwoo’s saying, voice low. The smirk in his tone is clear as day. “You gotta be careful, or things could end up cat-ass-trophic."
"He's right," Leehan adds, snickering. "Wouldn't want you to lag behind."
"Not to mention," Riwoo chimes in again, little snorts escaping his lips. Jaehyun wishes for nothing more but for the sweet release from this mortification. "You seem pretty stressed out lately. I mean, your shoulders are all thigh-t and everything."
"And you haven't been doing your warmups properly lately! It'd be bad if your hips get all sore."
"Leehan, that isn't even a pun."
Leehan blinks. He throws them a sheepish smile. "Sorry."
Jaehyun, meanwhile, just shuts his eyes and groans, loud enough for Riwoo and Leehan to laugh mercilessly but soft enough for Taesan not to hear. He buries his face in his hands. "Please," he begs, words muffled. His whole body feels hot with embarrassment. "Release me from my misery."
They both ignore him. They definitely planned all this. "Oh, hey," Riwoo says after a moment, nudging Jaehyun's side and shaking him away from his thoughts. "Check out what lover boy’s doing now."
Hesitantly, Jaehyun lifts his head. Taesan's started doing toe touches, his back to the three of them, and Jaehyun squirms with heat at the sight of all that exposed skin. He feels a flush intrude upon his cheeks, and he pointedly looks away.
From beside him, Leehan shakes his head. "How does he not notice any of this?" he asks in hushed incredulity, motioning wildly at Jaehyun in a daze of franticness. From the mirror, Taesan raises a perfect eyebrow questioningly at the commotion. Jaehyun mouths, Please don't ask.
"I know," Riwoo whispers back. "It's incredible. Do you think he's just pretending not to know?"
Taesan and Sungho start a few reps of squats then, starting a silly competition to see who can do more, and Jaehyun finds himself watching. He immediately regrets it though, because now it's literally impossible to tear his eyes away from Taesan’s milky skin, all lean and defined and borderline unfair. If anything, those stupid shorts seem to ride up every time Taesan bends down, and Jaehyun is submitted helpless to every clench and stretch of his thighs.
Riwoo and Leehan burst into another fit of loud laughter. Jaehyun doesn't think this could get any worse.
It gets worse. Naturally.
Halfway through practice that evening, Taesan rolls up the sleeves of his sweater all the way up to his forearms. So that paired with his downright wicked shorts is enough for Jaehyun to go into cardiac arrest.
It's supposed to be nothing, just the smallest of changes, and Jaehyun definitely isn't some kind of blushing teenaged girl with an impossible crush who gets flustered at something as mundane and old-fashioned as literal centimeters of exposed skin, but sadly, that's where he is right now.
So instead of punishing himself for it, instead of being distracted and tortured by the entirety of Han Taesan, Jaehyun decides to go down a different path. He embraces his newly found crisis and allows himself to fantasize that, if he can make through the whole choreography without messing up, then later, once they’re back in the familiarity of the production room, maybe he and Taesan could finally be alone. Maybe Taesan would be willing to let Jaehyun touch every fraction of skin he's been ruthlessly displaying for the whole world to see. Maybe he'll even let Jaehyun go even further than just touching, and Jaehyun could have his mouth in all the places Taesan is most sensitive, licking and savoring up the taste of sweat and salt.
He doesn't make a single mistake during practice that day.
Sungho is more than relieved.
The fantasies get out of hand soon enough, because Jaehyun's stupid like that.
He's left thinking and staring at Taesan all the fucking time — during the morning when they're all eating breakfast and Jaehyun has to look away whenever the other boy swallows or licks his lips, during the afternoon when they practice and practice and practice and a thin sheen of sweat starts glistening on Taesan's beautiful skin, and during the night, when Jaehyun is in the safety of his bed and dreaming about running his hands over Taesan's arms and legs and feeling the trained muscles twitch under his palms, Taesan moaning prettily from where he's above him.
It's all so much, and Jaehyun's mouth is pathetically dry as he watches the line of Taesan's throat when he throws his head back to laugh at something Woonhak’s said. The hard line of Taesan’s shoulders and the planes of his chest peek teasingly from his baggy sleeveless shirt. The sweat that rolls down his temples after dancing makes his gorgeously dishevelled hair stick to his flushed skin. Jaehyun yearns to gently brush it away and let his fingers linger there.
"I hate you," he tells Taesan one afternoon, meant as a joke but not too far from the truth. The both of them have gone out near the company's building for some ice cream. Jaehyun's gotten a classic cookies and cream one for himself, while Taesan bought some sort of vanilla chocolate strawberry mashup.
The other boy arches a brow at him.
"Well, I could throw away my tank tops if that makes you feel any better, but I doubt you'd really want that," Taesan replies breezily, not missing a beat, and — what the fuck?
Jaehyun gapes like a fish out of water. Taesan merely levels him with a flat stare.
"Stop giving me that look,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “Don't think I haven't noticed you ogling me and staring every time I drink down a bottle of water. Even now, it'd be pretty oblivious of me to not realize the way you've been watching me lick my ice cream."
Taesan's looking at him expectantly now, and Jaehyun does the only logical thing he can think of. But, he's not much of a logical person at all, so there's probably a couple of better options than what he did just then.
He runs, sprinting until he reaches the familiarity of the practice room, locking the door behind him.
Jaehyun really is stupid, because aside from himself and their managers, Taesan's also got himself an extra key.
So the ten minutes that pass is ten minutes of Jaehyun cringing at his embarrassing attempt of running away, and it's also after ten minutes does Taesan stroll into the room, a small smile curving at his lips as he locks the door again behind him.
Jaehyun forces his thoughts to stay in safe territory.
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he fervently ignores the sweat forming at his brow, even when the room is well-conditioned. His limbs feel all tingly too, and not even ten minutes is enough to calm the way his heart is still running a marathon.
Taesan knows.
Taesan knows.
His bandmate and best friend knows Jaehyun’s been gawking and drooling over him like some sort of creep, and Taesan's deliberate stare on him is enough to make Jaehyun want to change his name and go into hiding far, far away.
"I'm sorry!" he blurts out immediately, waving his arms in a futile effort to explain himself. "I really didn't mean to develop this full-blown crush on you or anything, but falling in love with you was just so easy because, well… because you're you! You're so pretty and I really can't help it that you dance like some sort of god and your laugh sounds really fucking cute, and I knew I had it bad, but then you started wearing those stupid fucking tank tops and your arms looked like– like… I don't know! White chocolate or something, and I didn't mean to stare but how could I not–"
"White chocolate?" Taesan finally interrupts, even when the flustered smile he's got on starts turning a little too wicked. He's so hot, and shit, Jaehyun realizes he's been rambling. "Wait, you think I dance like a god? And that my laugh is cute?"
Taesan's saying all this as he walks closer and closer, until he's got Jaehyun trapped against the mirror, that teasing little piece of shit. Jaehyun feels his body burn scarlet.
But then Taesan stops, rubbing the nape of his neck. His eyes are downcast, suddenly shy. "No one's ever said anything so nice to me before."
This stupid, beautiful boy. Jaehyun wants to scream out that no, none of what he said is just some mere compliment; it's a whole confession!
His eyes end up flickering down to Taesan’s lips, already settled into his pretty default pout, and Jaehyun hates himself for it, so he yells at himself to look back up quickly in hopes that Taesan hasn't noticed.
Taesan totally noticed.
"You’re such an idiot," he laughs, eyes scrunching adorably. Jaehyun feels his stomach fill with sunshine. "Your staring doesn't bother me at all, okay? I, uh…“
He trails off, and the impossible happens. Much to Jaehyun's surprise — and carefully hidden delight — Taesan blushes. It starts as a faint tint on his cheeks that turns into an endearingly soft pink, quickly morphing until his face is flushed crimson. The color travels right up to the tip of his ears and down to the prominent, awfully sexy line of his collarbones.
Taesan's blushing with his whole body. Jaehyun wants to kiss him so bad it makes his chest hurt.
"…I like it. When you look at me like that."
"Oh." Jaehyun wants to say more, but his brain had crashed and burned at the sight of Taesan flushing so beautifully. "I, um. Oh."
"Yeah," Taesan rolls his eyes fondly, a soft laugh slipping from those pretty pink lips. "Oh."
An hour later, when they’re both alone in the quiet sanctuary of the younger boy’s dorm room, Jaehyun hits the absolute jackpot when Taesan lets him massage the ache from his overworked muscles. He’s stretched out on his stomach on the bed, shirt bunched up around his underarms, leaving the expanse of his back and the delicious dip of his spine bare.
Taesan places his hand over Jaehyun’s wrist, guiding his palm to a specific spot near his shoulder blades, letting Jaehyun know where and how to press Taesan’s muscles just right. When Jaehyun’s thumbs dig into a stubborn knot along the curve of Taesan’s waist, his fingers splaying over the impossibly smooth, milky skin of his side, Taesan releases a shaky breath into the pillow, his back arching just slightly as he tells him oh, that felt kinda nice, do it again.
Jaehyun wants to kiss him.
So he does. Again, and again, and again. It tastes a lot like vanilla, and chocolate, and strawberries.