Work Text:
At last, something reminiscing of a vacation was slotted in their schedules for the first time after years. It is VITYPARK, so it is still work, but at least they can roleplay as if they were on holiday, and, with a bit of luck, trick their brains into relaxation. Even if they have to shoot and stand in front of the cameras, the idea of going on a one-day retreat is nice regardless.
It takes them a couple of hours in their vans to reach their destination: a barely populated village lost in the middle of the countryside. There’s a beautiful forest surrounding them, mountains drawing the path of the road, and apparently a creek they can swim in, according to their manager. To a bunch of young men facing the troubles of one of the hottest summers recorded, it sounds fantastic.
Most of them sleep throughout the whole trip, exhausted and worked to the bone, so they have to be startled awake when they arrive. The crew was already there, although not fully done with the preparation, leaving the members to scout the location for a while before they start recording. That offer is, of course, only taken by Serim and Allen, who have enough strength to lift themselves up from their car seats.
The two stroll along the rocky path of the farm while pointing out fruit trees, little animals, and other marvels that their city-boy-selves find fascinating. Taeyoung and Minhee, late joiners to the walk, jog up to them and explain that they ‘needed to wake up before they get going’, even if the latter’s eyes are only half open. When they go around and find the front of the property, they’re shocked to see Woobin messing with the charred wood under the gamasot pot. Surprised by the whole being awake thing, not him inspecting his future cooking utensils, that is.
A yell from the producer scares Wonjin and Seongmin awake, sprawled on the second and third rows, respectively. Hyeongjun nudges the youngest with a complaint, adding something about drooling all over his sleeve. He hasn’t gotten enough of a grip to respond in an intelligent manner, so he just bows his head to Hyeongjun, with his crooked mask covering half of his face.
Wonjin takes in the outside world slowly, having been pulled out of dreamland far too early. As usual, he can tell right away by his back pain that the position he had been sleeping in was less than ideal, but it’s not something he can fix, especially sleeping in a car.
He feels out his limbs one by one, getting back into them, and realizes when he reaches his left leg that it’s resting on Jungmo’s right thigh. The older is on his phone, although not too immersed, and only reacts when Wonjin’s knee twitches involuntarily.
“Ah, you’re up.” His attention switches from his screen to the younger. “I think the crew just called us to go up there.” The end of the sentence is a bit louder, realizing this is something he should be saying to all the members in the van. He even looks back to accentuate it, belatedly.
Because he gets no respect as a hyung, and because the other two had been gearing up to leave anyway, there’s no change in the speed in which they move, or a pause in their conversation. Jungmo turns his head to Wonjin instead, whose actions towards getting ready were a frown and a slightly-more-guarded position than previously.
“Let’s go.” And this time it’s abundantly clear who he’s whispering to.
Wonjin’s response is a deeper crease on his forehead and a mumble. Whatever he says, Jungmo doesn’t get, but a soft laugh escapes his lips without him knowing.
He reaches forward and pinches the younger’s cheek with his thumb and index knuckle.
“Wonjin-ah, we have to go.”
At this point, Hyeongjun and Seongmin are long gone, and playing with the rest of the members on top of the flat table; a bunch of food and props are set up around the background, for the episode to be engaging and fun and not deemed low-budget.
“Don’t wanna…” Wonjin finally says something identifiable, and it’s exactly what Jungmo expected.
“Wonjin-ah, the staff—”
“We’re starting!” A shout reaches the car again, more urgent. Wonjin stands up right away.
“Yes, going!”
Jungmo has to run a little to catch up with him, but has a shy grin on his face despite the aerobic efforts inhe is definitely not used to.
In a matter of minutes and with the help of a few stylists tidying his bed hair, Wonjin is fully in character and ready to read the rules of the episode. Jungmo, like the rest of the members, is watching him put on silly voices and act like different characters in one.
The vibe they agreed on was suggested by their favorite writer: a short trip to a classic grandmother’s house. The plot follows them, friends who were dragged into earning pocket money by helping with the chores, in their slips and successes with the most menial activities. Everything, from the missions, to the way of speaking, to the clothes matched the concept so well it didn’t even feel scripted.
The filming goes on for quite long, taking breaks whenever they look tired. They only finish around 6 PM, which means they were hard at work for a total of seven hours, too many in a row to keep up the tension. The crew, equally or more exhausted than them, slowly swarm around the equipment to put away before they drive to their dinner reservation at a traditional stew place. They had looked it up on Naver Maps earlier and looked entirely too delicious to miss.
Their manager is forced to interrupt the group’s conversation about whether worms would’ve counted in their bug catching activities or not.
“The team is going to clean up and then we’ll have some food. You already ate and bought snacks too, so you should be fine, right?”
“Are we staying here?” Seongmin asks, confused by the schedule for the rest of the day. He even looks a bit stressed out, by the insects, humidity, and all that.
“If you want? The sun’s going to be out for a few more hours and the weather is rather nice? You guys can hang out around, we rented the whole complex.” The manager ensures, gesturing to the farm in general. “But you can go back to the accommodation, if you want. Just ask a staff member to drive you.”
“Okay, who else wants to go to the hotel!” Seongmin shoots up and stretches his arm to the sky, showing his intentions to retreat as soon as possible too enthusiastically. His expression turns sour when nobody else rises.
“What? Really?” He falls back on the table with a grunt. “Ugh, fine. I wouldn’t want anybody to drive twenty minutes if I’m the only one. I’ll stay.”
“Thank you…” A female employee whispers as she passes by with a bunch of cameras to her shoulder, car keys clinking with every step she takes. The youngest gives a shy bow.
“Right, there’s so much to do! Let’s have fun. Who wants to go on a hike?” Taeyoung jumps out this time, facing the small rock formations in the complex. It’s not so much of a hike, because the territory they can access is limited, but it’s more thrilling to call it that. An ‘expedition’ sounds a bit childish, and he himself is already grown by his own standards.
“I’ll come with!” Allen pushes himself off the edge he was hanging off. “Seongminie, you should join too. It’ll be nice to see the scenery.” If there’s someone who can get him to walk on his own accord, it’s Allen.
“Right, let’s go.” Hyeongjun links his arms with the youngest, and just like that, he’s swept away into the wilderness.
The picture is rather funny, making it look like they’re kidnapping him. The remaining members enjoy the spectacle until the smaller group is out of sight, then there’s a few beats of silence.
“I’m going to try to chop wood again.” Serim is up and examining the surroundings, so he just needs to take a couple of steps to reach the axe and position himself in front of the make-shift stand.
The rest of them stay on the table, with Woobin sitting up straight enough to monitor the leader’s actions. Comments about his posture, the power on the slice, and other not-so-friendly tips keep piling up until he’s frustrated enough to go assist him. Minhee is half-lying down half-sitting, with his arms placed behind his hips to support his body. His first row ticket to whatever impending disaster approaches the hyung line is worth more than the sleep he could be getting.
Wonjin’s the only one who’s fully resting every inch of his body on the wooden planks, taking up the whole length across. His neck is craned to also watch dumb and dumber, though, with his legs spread out comfortably. His shorts are nicely fixed to end a little further than the middle of his thigh, the perfect amount to stay fresh in the heat.
There is no breeze to help out balance the sunlight that peeks out from behind the clouds here and there, so he has to settle for this. Not only is it summer, but it is also the rainy season, which means as soon as it gets slightly warmer everything will become sticky and annoying. Again, the coordi’s outfit choice this time was excellent.
Quickly tired of Serim and Woobin’s shenanigans, he scans his closest surroundings and catches Jungmo staring at his exposed legs.
“What are you doing?” The words come out of his mouth on their own, as impolite speech as always.
“Ah?”
“What are you doing?” Wonjin knows the other heard it the first time, but he’s interested enough in the reply to repeat the question.
“I’m not doing anything?” Jungmo answers right before clumsily getting up and dusting off his lap, like there had been something on there to dirty it. “Hyung, let me try again too.”
He flies off to the wood chopping zone, leaving Wonjin with nothing to react with but an empty chuckle. It’s not entirely unbelievable that he’d like to give it a go again, given his downright shameful attempts, but the timing is off. He knows him too well to buy it.
“What, what was that?” Minhee perks up, meeting Wonjin’s eyes.
“Dunno.” He says with a shrug, because not much else is left to be said. Specifically not to Minhee, who is sufficiently aware of their status.
“How lame.” He concludes after giving his ice lolly a few laps, taking Wonjin’s side. It’s not that they’ve ever talked about it, because they haven’t, but he can tell what’s going on without needing a rundown of it. And Wonjin would never give it to him regardless, so in his head, his assumptions are true and accuratel. Neither of the two have given him reasons to believe otherwise.
He knows what he sees, after all. And all he sees lately is either an overly-flirty Jungmo pressing Wonjin’s buttons until he gets shoved away, or his awkward body language whenever the other approaches as much as half a meter. You don’t need an expert to chime in to know what it means.
Wonjin lets his head fall back onto the table with an exhale, eyes closing after he bears the small concussion he gave himself for no good reason. Maybe the mild pain is what lulls him to sleep, falling into a light slumber that is good enough to relax, but not to complete a sleep cycle. He can tell he’s not fully knocked out; he can hear the distant shouts and celebrations of his hyungs in his dreams.
It’s a short nap, which makes it easier for him to wake up when he instinctively registers the voice of a staff member speaking. A little dazed by how fast he sits up, he rubs his face thinking about how long he had been out for. Maybe thirty minutes?
While he makes his calculations, Minhee plants a hand on his shoulder and gets a bit close to murmur something to him, watching the rest of the present members gather in the distance.
“Jungmo hyung must’ve spent about half the time looking over here. He didn’t manage to even split the tiny chunk Serim hyung prepared for him.”
Wonjin replies with what can only be a sleepy, mindless version of ‘yeah?’, to which Minhee responds with a thumbs up. It would make him crack up if he wasn’t trying to sort out his thoughts so hard — it feels like he hit his head again.
He can’t even afford that, he thinks once he sees the others already standing in a line in front of their managers. He needs to hurry there too.
Turns out, they just want to take some behind-the-scenes pictures of them relaxing, which summons a few stylists to fix their hair and makeup again. Wonjin shakes off the drowsiness out of respect, and strikes up a conversation about the result of their retry with the wood. Serim assures them, including the producers, that they have enough fuel for the whole night if they want to light up the fire. Woobin puffs out a laugh but decides to be quiet, knowing damn well they wouldn’t be able to heat up a single baby bird in the farm if it hadn’t been for his instructions on good practices.
When the coordi team finishes retouching their looks, the members strike poses as instructed by the photographer, naturally making each other laugh with digs about the day’s tasks. He wouldn’t say Minhee’s blanket is well dried, Woobin points out, directing a glance to the dripping duvet that is bringing down to the floor the cord they hung it up on.
Well, the lettuce wasn’t properly washed, Minhee retorts, even though he didn’t have any. The camera assistants cackle at the infighting, getting a couple of really nice smiley shots in their ten-minute session.
Once they’re done, the staff scramble away to get off work, and only the manager remains to explain where they will be, and who to call if they need anything. He also gives a second chance offering his driving services, in case would like to rest at the hotel. But since Seongmin has been swept away by the others, they confidently reject the offer and say they’ll stay there.
As they’re receiving some more details about the farm, Wonjin thinks it’d be nice to enjoy it to the maximum. The front of the house is very cozy, but the field in the back looks peaceful too… And so his eyes wander around to discover even more exciting options. He meets Minhee, who gives him an eyebrow raise, before he sees Jungmo staring at him again.
“Ah, this hyung, really.” He says it mostly to himself, but he can tell his tall friend is nodding along, both of them almost laughing at the absurdity.
In an anomaly to all rules of reality, Jungmo doesn’t shy away, and just keeps looking as if he heard nothing. Maybe he really didn’t. They’re on different sides of the line after all, but the fact that he didn’t immediately snap his neck is strange.
“Anyway, we’re leaving, feel free to contact me or the team if there’s anything you want.” The manager grabs the last forgotten bags before waving goodbye, promising to be back by around 11 PM. They were supposed to return by 9 PM, but the members insisted on leaving the crew more of a window to enjoy themselves; they have leftover money, so they can call a cab if they really want to escape back into civilization.
A few of them start giving ideas on what to do next: start the embers to grill the leftover meat, play drinking games without alcohol, or go on a walk. Everybody is in a good mood, so rather than eliminating choices, they have the issue of not knowing what to go with. Usually there’s more than enough complaints to narrow down the decision, but it seems like the summer vibe is really reflecting on their characters today.
Gathered in a very loose and disorderly circle, suggestions come and go, but Wonjin is focused on Jungmo’s face. It takes the older a few seconds to realize the gaze weighing on him, and when he does, he returns it just as shamelessly.
But Jungmo is awful at staring contests. He holds it only as long as Woobin takes to finish a sentence, then looks away in defeat, doing a terrible job at holding his fumbling. Okay, he’s him again.
Wonjin can’t avoid showing a smirk when he notices Jungmo’s reddish ears, in a much better angle now that he turned his head towards the side.
His hair is a medium brown, giving him a softer and cuter look than his usual dark tones. A bit fluffy and neatly trimmed at the back and bangs, it makes his features blur out with the warm tones of the clouds in the background. He looks sillier than usual, it makes Wonjin’s smile come easier. His stupid jokes and puns have a greater effect, and Wonjin tells himself it’s just the haircut.
If only he wasn’t slightly irritated at him, at his habit of holding himself back, at his apologetic eyes after thinking he messed up, conflicted.
The discussion is still going on, with the two present oldest voting for cooking, and the two youngest surprisingly advocating a stroll. As Serim makes a counterpoint, Jungmo steps behind all of them and comes up to Wonjin to silently ‘join his team’.
Before anybody can get any other argument in, a shout from the ‘hike path’ grabs their attention. The rest are back, with Taeyoung happily hopping in their direction. Allen follows, in a much more normal pace, and then there’s Hyeongjun and Seongmin who seem like they’re all out of energy.
“Hey! Let’s go to the creek?” Taeyoung asks, still quite far away, and in English.
“Let’s go!” Allen replies right away, giving the younger a high-five.
The others are not all convinced (meaning Woobin, who would rather stay and grill in nature), but Serim, Wonjin, and Minhee find it to be the best idea they can come up with.
“We sweated a lot, we need to cool off! Are you guys not hot?” Taeyoung exclaims, not giving in a single more step.
“Honestly I didn’t get to eat much…”
“Ah, come on, we have watermelon!” Wonjin jumps in, trying to convince his foodie friend. “We can chill it in the water, and we can even catch fish to cook later. This time I mean really big fish. We can do it.”
“No offense to the fishermen here, but all we caught earlier was two baby eels. I don’t think there’s anything else in there.” Woobin’s argument is… Factually correct, but it’s not enough to stop anybody in CRAVITY.
“No, but look…”
“I will catch a big fish. Worry not, let’s just go and I’ll find something to feast on later.” Jungmo interjects, facing Woobin and making promises he’s not sure he can keep. But he doesn’t care very much about the end product as much as he cares about getting to the water.
“Jungmo…” Woobin is, obviously, not convinced. “Can you even name a fish?”
“No need to name them to catch them.” He shrugs, looking back for a moment to gently grab Wonjin’s forearm and pull him forward. “Carp!” He adds with comical delay.
“Yeah, I’m sure a carp will come out of there, Jungmo.” The older sighs, then stands up. “Let’s go, the watermelon will be refreshing at least.”
“That’s what I’m saying! It looked so tasty.” Serim literally bounces up and forward at the mention of watermelon, getting a head start.
Jungmo still has his grip on Wonjin, despite them walking at the same speed. The younger notices Minhee’s passing smile when he overtakes them, throwing an arm around Taeyoung’s shoulder once he manages to reach him in his near sprint.
“You’re going to catch fish?” It’s a completely reasonable question considering neither of them had ever attempted to do so, not even with an actual rod.
“Yeah. With you.” The pause in the middle leaves him room to face Wonjin, saying it so matter-of-factly.
“Me?”
“Mhm. You don’t want to? I did it to convince Woobin hyung though? You said you wanted to go there.” The light blush creeps back up to the rim of his ears, almost faint enough for Wonjin to miss.
“Ah really… Signing me up for work…” He complains in a huff, but with a smile, and Jungmo follows.
The stream is really close to the lodging, it only takes them around five minutes to set up camp: they were provided a couple of blankets, some towels, hand-fishing equipment, and lastly a big watermelon. It’s bright green but has a few yellow spots, and the leader is making heart eyes to it.
As if coordinated in advance, half of the group spreads around on the rocks surrounding the water and lie down. Some of them arelooking at their phones already, some are enjoying the view and clear air, and some are cracking open fruits with their bare hands.
“Aren’t you going to get some fish?” Woobin throws the question out, reaching Jungmo, who is rummaging through the bag of tools.
“We’re on it, you know!” And he includes Wonjin too, although he’s busy taking a look at the water.
It’s not very clear, despite the creek’s shallowness, so he can’t feel too optimistic for now, but at least they’re there. He couldn’t be less worried about whether they catch something or not, so he takes off his shoes and socks and slowly waddles into the deepest part he can see for now: up to his lower thigh.
“I’ll help out too!” Taeyoung turns his attention to his two hyungs, having lost interest in the watermelon as soon as he got the first bite. “Is it cold?”
“No?” Wonjin moves his feet around. “It’s just fine?”
He meant what he said, he did, but Taeyoung’s tolerance for cold seems to be way lower than his, because he lets out a screech when he jumps into the water. It somehow splashes up to his chest area, and Allen cracks up in a howl from his stomach. His reaction is too good not to terrorize him next.
After much concern on what kind of net to use, Jungmo grabs four medium ones and enters the water with a hiss to distribute them to the members. Taeyoung, who was being chased by Allen, gets a rest when the older misses the catch and needs to retrieve his tool from between two rocks.
With no plan or strategy, they unravel the nets and implement their own methods of fishing. Wonjin is holding it horizontally and as low as his back allows him to, ducking; Jungmo is mimicking him without noticing his is so high it’s actually partly out of the surface; Allen is swinging it around; and Taeyoung just plants it vertically on the floor as some sort of mind game.
They spend five minutes like this, to no avail, and Wonjin starts disrupting the current in hopes of seeing fish move, hopefully, into their traps. He purposefully walks around with big movements, using both the frames of the net and his body to agitate the water.
“You’re scaring them away!” Jungmo whines as soon as a small wave hits his knee, a bit far away but startled nonetheless.
“I’m trying to get them to exit through there so they’ll swim into your net!” Clearly, Wonjin’s flawless and logical intentions fly over Jungmo’s head. Suddenly getting his hands on some of those carps does matter.
“No, it won’t work if you do it like that!” Frustrated, the older slides his way to Wonjin’s zone to show him his very own way of luring prey into his trap. “Like this, you should do it like this!”
Needless to say, Jungmo is just waving the net around, just in a slightly more calm rhythm, and still not as deep.
“How are you going to catch anything like that?!”
“Ah, seriously, let me.” Jungmo lets go of his tool, throwing it to float next to him for a second before it disappears from his consciousness as it stows away. Now, his focus is on teaching his member how to really manoeuvre banks of fish.
He reaches to grab onto Wonjin’s wrists, wanting to guide the movements himself, but the younger pulls away and makes him miss. In his failed attempt, he steps closer and has a better range to try again, with only the net between them.
Proximity proves to be a huge advantage when he manages to grip onto Wonjin’s lower forearm, playfully pulling and pushing in a playfight. It hasn’t always been like this, but lately Jungmo has been winning on the physical realm, so he’s confident he can get him to at least comply for a few seconds. For him, that’s enough for a victory.
“No, hyung, you need to do it like this!” Wonjin retaliates by forcing Jungmo’s arm, keeping the very same path he was doing before, but struggling a bit more.
At last, he gives up the equipment he was putting to use and attempts to counter. Instead of aiming for Jungmo’s wrists, which would be a predictable and therefore useless attack, he probes in between the older’s ribs with his fingers stuck out in different directions, hoping at least one of them would hit a critical spot.
It does. On his first try. Wonjin’s aim is naturally good, and he’s had enough clashes with Jungmo where he had to retort to tickling not to know the exact sensitive locations. The older lets out a yelp and covers his side momentarily, until he realizes he needs both hands to keep grabbing onto Wonjin. He manages to stop the pokes by getting a hold of the other’s palm again.
“No, if you do it like that you won’t catch a single one!” Their combined center of gravity tilts from one side to the other, depending on who is better positioned at the second.
Jungmo has a grip on Wonjin’s wrist now, and a somewhat unstable grasp on his opposite elbow that proves to be enough to sway him. In an effort to free himself from the other’s constraints, Wonjin snatches his hand back abruptly.
Before he can realize, Wonjin feels himself losing balance and falling backwards, wet up to his collarbone. He’s not hurt anywhere, mostly because the water took the impact for him, but he has a whole twenty-two year old man on top of him.
Jungmo’s supporting himself on his knees, which are on either side of Wonjin’s hips, and on his hands, except his right one is still glued to the other’s arm. He also was lucky enough not to be in pain, considering the parts of his body that came in contact with the rough bottom of the creek, but even if he were he wouldn’t be able to process it.
Although the first emotion that crosses his mind is worry, he is rendered useless and immobile. Wonjin’s mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are glassy, maybe because he had gotten some water splashed in the fall, or maybe because of something else. Jungmo’s already naturally mirroring his stare, focused on his deep brown irises — like a fool, he waits for the guy in the reflection to do something.
The stress of it is too much for a person like Jungmo.
A person like Jungmo, who is calm and collected, who considers himself to be sufficiently skilled to get out of dangerous situations even when his brain and heart are screaming at him to do otherwise.
He knows he can’t risk their relationship. He can’t let his selfish desires get in the way of years and years of mutual understanding and support, of being the closest he’s even been to someone else. He’d never take that away from Wonjin.
Not faltering is ridiculously hard, though, especially when he’s kind of draped over the younger and they’re both soaking, faces separated barely enough to see each other in focus. Jungmo is too busy holding himself back to notice how his hand loosens its grip on Wonjin and slides down to his wrist, like a caress.
The friction between their skins feels rather blunt, with the drops of water drying off quickly and leaving a thin film tacky residue, a sensation he’s definitely felt before. It’s like a wakeup call, like everything around him is telling him that this is real life.
Wonjin’s net is long gone, also floating along the tide until it bumps with Jungmo’s. Allen snorts at the visual.
The rest of the team are watching them struggle in a very questionable position, but they’re shut out from the rest of the world anyway, in a bubble.
Jungmo genuinely thinks he’s doomed to do something he shouldn’t until he hears a sound between a groan and a yelp, with his name attached to ‘hyung’ somewhere in the middle.
“A-ah, are you okay Wonjin-ah?” Without giving it any thought, Jungmo uses his free hand to try to stabilize the younger, holding onto his back. It’s too late to pull away by the time he notices what he’s doing.
“Hyung.” It comes out choked, mostly due to his posture, he chooses to believe.
In a normal setting, Wonjin would’ve sent the older aside the exact moment they both crumbled down because of their silly fight. Now, silence and stillness overtakes everything else, adding a layer of uncertainty that permeates their skin.
“I’m sorry, let’s get up. Are you hurt anywhere?” Jungmo pushes himself back to rest his weight on his knees, carefully pulling on Wonjin to do the same and at least sit up. “Don’t stand too quickly.”
There was definitely no impact, not even a mere hit to his head, but why does Wonjin feel so confused all of a sudden? Did he see wrong? The person a moment ago, was it Jungmo?
“I’m okay.” His outfit is not torn, his body is not hurt, so he figures he’s alright. Physically, that is.
“Sorry, I was just messing around but we ended up slipping…” Jungmo apologizes again, and he can’t resist but to give the other’s head a few pats to get his heartfelt words across better.
“Holy shit they’re idiots.” Woobin says what they’re all thinking, but earns an elbow to his side for being too honest about it. The other two don’t hear it, so it’s an attack for no reason.
Before Wonjin can say anything back, Jungmo timidly complains about how they should’ve just listened to him and his educated methodologies. This effectively dissolves the tension, getting Wonjin to take a jab at him as per usual, but he does so while slightly deflated.
“I don’t think we’re going to catch any fish like this…” Allen thinks out loud, which makes Taeyoung snort and the other two finally separate from each other.
It’s the first time Jungmo looks down at himself and understands he’s soaked, with the loose tee he was wearing sticking to his torso; not to mention his shorts. A thicker material prevented them from becoming too tight, so it’s not as bad as it could be.
Also, Wonjin has it far worse than him. While he was on top, the younger was the one resting on the bottom of the stream, and although he was fortunate enough to land on its narrowest part, water still got everywhere.
He’s late to avert his eyes when Wonjin stretches out his t-shirt to roll it and squeeze the excess liquid, revealing a sliver of his stomach. He whips his head around too late and chooses to look at, let’s say, some plants by the shore, but the younger is walking out and signalling to the members to throw him a towel.
Surely Jungmo should be doing the same, but he leaves a space for Wonjin to dry himself and head back to the house to change without having to run into each other. First of all, he wants Wonjin to be comfortable and not feel rushed, and second of all, he doesn’t know how he’s going to face him next.
Taeyoung tries to convince them about having seen some sort of crab in the meantime, but all Jungmo can think about is the thumping on his chest that’s been shaking him since they tripped.
The watermelon’s already gone by the time Wonjin gets back. Jungmo automatically stands up from his seat, a flat rock in the middle of the water, and heads in the direction the younger is coming from. He babbles something like ‘I’ll be back’, like it’s not stupidly obvious, and runs off to the bathrooms clunkily as if he had just learned to walk.
“What’s up with this guy today?” Someone points out just when Jungmo is out of earshot.
The only thing that’s left is a couple of drinks that had been in the cooler, but they’ve gone from iced to just… Wet. The condensation on the can gives Wonjin deja-vu.
“Wonjin? What’s wrong with Jungmo?” Another, different voice this time.
So much, he thinks. Too many things to count.
His worst offenses are always the same. With no responsibility taken, he inserts himself in Wonjin’s space, embracing him, asking for a kiss; gently clawing at his heart and asking for something more, then hides away when Wonjin pushes through his embarrassment to match his actions.
“Why are you asking me?”
Not a present soul questions the reason why he’s the specific person being asked, but nobody dares to spell it out.
The sincere love and adoration in Jungmo’s words and gestures never causes any doubt despite his recoiling. Wonjin is aware of why he behaves like that, and is even understanding of it, hence why he hasn’t actually had a real argument with him, but he still hopes he will snap out of it some time. Soon, preferably.
“But I really wanted to catch something. I could swear I saw a fish in the water earlier.” He clicks his tongue after taking a sip, speaking to himself, but the others join in with encouraging words.
It’s okay, the creek might be too small to house any decently-sized animal. You know, maybe the season isn’t right for carps. Do carps even care about seasons? Why wouldn’t they? You idiot, it changes the temperature of their habitats. Wow, I guess that’s right. Anyway, you can try again later, hyung.
The banter continues back and forth, with its spotlight on the possible species at their location instead of Wonjin, and he’s grateful for it. Even when Jungmo returns in a set of fresh, clean clothes, the topic doesn’t derail. Hyeongjun keeps talking about the seafood market in Tongyeong, the natural evolution of any of their talks.
Hours pass as they laugh, and suddenly it’s already 9 PM. The sky is still bright, but their stomachs are desperately begging for a snack now that their early dinner has been digested. They get up and tidy the blankets they’ve used, as well as the remains of the fruit and miscellaneous plastic bottles. Right as Allen is about to step into the water to collect the fishing tools, he’s stopped in his tracks by a shout.
“Hey Allen!” Wonjin’s voice is a bit cuter in English. Jungmo twists his neck even if it’s not his name. “Don’t clean that up, I’ll try once more.”
“Are you sure? Aren’t we all going up to eat?”
“It’s okay, you’re grilling meat anyway so it’ll take a while, won’t it? Just scream when it’s all ready and I’ll head up.” He’s unsure of where this determination comes from, but he just really wants to try getting one single fish.
“Will you be okay alone?” A hyung’s role is what it is: ensuring his younger teammates are safe. Allen would never forget about his duties.
“It’s okay hyung, I’ll stay here too.” Seongmin waves them from the very slope they had been resting on. He’s climbed to the most comfortable part, a little dip in the rocks that almost looks like a throne. “It’s cooler here than in front of the fire.”
“Okay, then make sure to watch the kid, Min!” The rest of the group are all starting to head to the main camp, carrying their belongings. Jungmo is frozen in the physical middle of the discussion, between the three.
“Excuse me, am I not older?”
“I’m not saying it because of your age.” With a wink, Allen turns around and follows the others. Wonjin makes a mocking face at him when he’s out of his field of vision.
Like a bunny that feels an earthquake before it actually happens, Seongmin hops to his feet and drives Jungmo up the incline, to the entrance.
“Don’t even think about it. I’m not jumping into the water to save you two when you inevitably start tussling again. Also I don’t wanna watch that.”
“What?”
The youngest is really much stronger than he leaves to believe, because he’s able to push Jungmo away enough that Taeyoung calls out to him. To be fair, he was cheating, saying all those things to fluster him, so he has no choice but to let himself be dragged into the punishment of ingredient preparation.
Jungmo never knew cooking a few servings of pork belly was so complicated. Woobin, rightfully giving himself the title of head chef, commands the members around to prepare a garlic sauce to cover the meat once it’s all fried. He’s already unskilled with knives and other kitchen utensils to begin with, but the blur moving along the creek keeps hindering his work. He struggles peeling the cloves, fragrant and sticky and annoying because they’re the only thing keeping him away from playing ‘catch the imaginary fish’ with Wonjin.
The limits he imposed on himself are frustrating, he knows that, and not only to himself. He wasn’t proficient in reading people from the start, but after multiple years by the younger’s side, he thinks he’s learned how to read his emotions at a glance. The small version of himself shining on Wonjin’s eyes earlier immediately lost its sparkle when he peeled himself off; he felt it like he was the one dulling out.
All his fears and concerns are stopping him from doing what he knows both of them want, and it’s making him miserable. Every single occasion he’s faced with it, he holds onto his shaky convictions and hopes he’s not struck strongly enough to fall off them, into the cold water. If he does, he hopes Wonjin is under him again, at least.
The eldest members are observing him bite his lower lip between quiet giggles, almost feeling bad to tge point of taking over his task and setting him free. Almost. They have their own veggies to sort.
They’re seated on the front porch, with ample natural light to see the little specks of dirt to wash off green onions, even if the sky is covered in gray. It hasn’t been clear during their whole stay, or the previous day, nor will it be the next. The classic weather of August.
It’s a relief that they put the burner inside, because it starts raining lightly. They only realize because of the smell, quickly crawling its way into the wooden base and roof of the house; the droplets are so small and dispersed that they’re completely silent.
But it doesn’t stay that way for long. The monsoon period is as short as it is unpredictable, so in a matter of minutes it starts pouring — it shakes the big trees and makes the building creak; a volatile instant of change happening in the blink of an eye.
Serim is already expecting Jungmo when he searches for his face, suddenly standing a bit too straight, in alert. He knows what the younger’s going to say, so he just nods and points downhill with his chin. Jungmo slides down the platform.
“I’ll go get them!” He thinks he should give somewhat of an explanation, but the rest can’t even hear it when he speeds off. There’s a mixed bag of reactions, but they’re all the same flavor: some tsks, some snorts, some chuckles.
Taking strictly the necessary precautions not to slip on wet dirt and faceplant before he gets to his destination, Jungmo runs down and waves his arms to make sure the two astray members can see him. His glasses and lenses are off, so he advances quite a bit before he can make out Seongmin’s silhouette jogging up the path.
“I’ll bring Wonjinie, go up with the rest.” He taps the youngest’s shoulder and sends him away quickly, now focused on the last remaining rescuee.
He takes a few more steps and finally recognizes Wonjin deep into the stream.
“Wonjin-ah, what are you doing?! Let’s go!”
At the shouts, Wonjin turns around, net in hand and with a completely unbothered expression. Jungmo can’t believe it.
“Ah, whatever, aren’t fish supposed to move around more when it rains? I’ll catch one now.” He’s back to scanning the environment with his eyes and feeling the floor with his feet.
“Come out here! You’ll catch a cold! Ham Wonjin!” Jungmo doesn’t see a solution to this unless he meddles in, so despite being happily dry, he enters the creek.
As he takes his long strides, legs pushing away the heavy water in his way, his hair and clothes are dampening all the same. Summer showers are very intense, and he doesn’t comprehend that anybody would willingly stay under them.
“Hey, Wonjin-ah!” With a hand clinging to the other’s shoulder, he turns him to talk face to face even before he takes the final step towards him. He accidentally lands too close, taking a misstep because of a stone he stumbled upon, but plays it off for the sake of his image. “What are you doing?! We need to go!”
The determination that fired him up and fuelled his limbs through the downpour deflates at the sight of Wonjin’s face across the rain, stealing away his breath too, as if he hadn’t taken enough.
Strands of hair are stuck to his forehead, with the odd ones overlapped over and pointy, dripping with rain down to his eyebrows, nose, and mouth — mimicking the path Jungmo’s eyes go in. He wishes droplets were the only thing getting pulled into the dip between his lips.
“Why does it matter, I’m in the water anyway.” There’s almost a shrug coming from Wonjin, but something locks him in place, in tension. “Go, I can finish this off quickly and go up.”
He means to move out of the other’s grasp, but the older refuses to let go so easily. By some super power or extreme luck, Wonjin allows himself to be tugged back.
Jungmo’s completely drenched too, with the exception of the intact spot on his clothes here and there, but the state of his hair and face is none better.
The surface of the creek is agitated and messy, partly because of the pour, but mostly because of the urgency Jungmo had moved in, disrupting the natural currents and waves that naturally occur when it is left alone.
“But Wonjin-ah…”
Jungmo’s hand slides behind Wonjin’s nape, his wet locks flooding out between his fingers. Maybe it’s because they’re both damp, but he’s never felt as firm of a grasp on Wonjin as he does now. For an instant, he wonders when it’ll rain like this again.
Jungmo leans into a kiss slowly and gently, with rivulets gliding along his eyelids as soon as he closes them, like the shower is finally engulfing him. When Wonjin angles his head to the side and mirrors his movements, he lets himself sink into the highs of summer storms.
At first, the pure shock and realization overtakes both of them and leaves them floating; only when they tear their lips apart to drink in a breath does reality kick in, driving them to dive in again immediately.
This time Jungmo really feels it, the warmth and wetness pouring from Wonjin’s mouth like he’s the rainy season himself, swaying his former preference for winter. He basks in the sensation of the other’s shorter hairs poking onto the skin in his palm, grounding him to believe that Wonjin is really within his arms.
After such a long wait, Jungmo discovers the knocking inside him just gets stronger the closer in proximity he is. He could’ve guessed that, but not in a million years would have he expected the rush of emotions that come with it, experiencing it in his own body.
Wonjin’s fingertips push the soaked fabric of Jungmo’s top around, digging into his waist and holding onto him steadily while he follows his rhythm, stuck in a soft rocking motion, creating their own tide for their lips to flow in.
The nervousness he had felt dissolves with the subtle arch of Wonjin’s smile into the kiss, like the rainfall just went from torrential to drizzle.
When they separate, Wonjin keeps his grin, and Jungmo thinks reading him has never been this simple. He believes he himself is crystal clear too, despite his concerns clouding him a little. But that’s not important right now, and he hopes his refusal to let them shake this moment shows too.
He moves his hand so his thumb rests on Wonjin's cheek, uselessly wiping away the droplets crashing there from the skies.
“Hyung.”
“I like you.”
Without the need for words, Wonjin reaches for Jungmo’s free hand and holds it, tangling their index and middle fingers as delicately as he can without breaking away.
Jungmo smiles as well, overjoyed at his ability to decipher the other’s stare, what he means, what he wants to say.
“Let’s go.” Strangely, it’s the younger saying that, although with no real movement. “You need to dry off again.”
“Can’t we stay a bit?”