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Chan’s wings are beautiful.
A soft mix of greys and blues, even hints of shimmering purple if they’re caught in the right light. Every move sharp and strong, with the sort of calculation and power behind them that Soonyoung could only watch in awe as those wings drove their owner across the sky and in an intricate dance of six limbs melded into one perfect form. The wind brushing his hair back, the way he would twist and turn, flip and tumble into their practiced dance. The way his whole face lit up when he smiled, or that boyish look to him and his eyes that glittered in the light or-
Or maybe Soonyoung just likes to pull romance out of his ass in the most inconvenient of places. And whether it belonged spewed all over Chan’s unsuspecting form? Well, that was debatable.
Yes, Chan was beautiful. Gorgeous even. The way he moved, spoke, laughed, it all made Soonyoung’s stomach flutter like it had just grown it’s own set of fluffy wings and tried to take off itself. But Chan was also a kid. He was naïve and somehow found dad jokes funny. He had a smart mouth and a sharp tongue when he thought he could get away with it. He tended to tease where it wasn’t his place to, and sometimes all that passion and will inside him would spill out and butt heads with the sort of people a gangly kid really shouldn’t be butting heads with. Soonyoung recognized this, all of this, but every flaw only seemed to make him fall more and more stupidly in love with each passing day.
God, he was fucking whipped.
“Soonyoung!” What do ya know? Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
He twists around from his hunched over position of contemplative thinking— loud contemplative thinking if the concerned, knowing looks from Minghao and Junhui were anything to go by. At this point he’s crafted an art out of ignoring those sort of looks from the both of them and skillfully avoids them completely, instead turning to shout up at Chan’s form. With the distance and the sun angled behind him like this, he just looks like a shadow with a slightly lengthier than average wingspan, but Soonyoung could always recognize that silhouette. Always. “You know to call me hyung you brat!”
Their youngest makes it to the outlying platform of their poorly built tree fort with a few sharp flaps of his wings, and the smile he meets Soonyoung with is a bizarre mix of cheeky and abashed. “Yeah, but the no honorific thing is a turn on for you, isn’t it?”
Junhui’s howls of laughter are horrible background music while Soonyoung launches himself at Chan, both of them going down with a mix of bright laughter and outraged yelling that has even Minghao giving his own amused snort.
“Sorry Soonie hyung, I’m the one that told him that.” Said Soonie hyung whips his head around to glare at Minghao, who looks like the perfect picture of leisure with his arms propped up behind him and sleek, faded pink wings stretched back lazily.
“Why the hell would you think that’s information he needed to know??” Chan struggles underneath him, and Soonyoung shifts to fully pin him down with both hands and wings. Stout, fluffy, and slightly orange wings, but despite their unassuming appearance they gave him power, certainly enough power to keep down little Chan who had yet to grow into his oversized feathers.
“He asked. Duh.” Minghao smiles as he says it, like he knows exactly the sort of turmoil that confession will unleash, and it fails to disappoint. Soonyoung’s outraged look drops into something open, disbelieving, and then bewildered. And all Chan can manage in return is a sheepish, pink tinged smile.
There’s a few beats of tense silence, and for a second the two Chinese boys stuck on the other side of the platform think the elephant in the room is actually going to be addressed, before Soonyoung pushes off of Chan with an annoyed sounding huff, “This kid, really thinks he can stick his nose in everything.”
Chan scoots back with an awkward laugh, leaving Junhui and Minghao to glance at each other with shared exasperation.
Soonyoung flutters to his feet and sets to aggressively dusting ay his knees and butt where there’s probably not any dust to brush off in the first place, leaving Chan to stumble up after him. “Okay kiddos—”
“Daily reminder that I am older than you.”
“Daily reminder that five extra days on this planet gives you literally no authority over me whatsoever. Also, I’m still leader.”
Junhui huffs, but it gets ignored.
Soonyoung claps once, eyes narrowed at the ‘eldest’, before he levels each of them with the same look. “I don’t think I need to remind you guys our performance is a week from now. And we’re ready! We’re doing really super well actually, but just ‘cause we have this routine down doesn’t mean we can slack off. Without practice we’ll lose it, so I want all of you to be on top of your game until D-Day, do I make myself clear?”
“Yes Sergeant Kwon.”
Minghao earns an irritated gust flapped his way for that one, and no one dares speak up against it. Sergeant Kwon can be scary when he wants to be.
-
‘D-Day’, as they so lovingly regard it as, refers to a festival held once a year, right as the seasons slide from one to the other. Summer heat and morning dew and bright blossoms flowing to colored leaves and heavy crops and numbing winds. It’s a representation of the years last hurrah before the blistering weather and storms renders their people flightless, lest they want to risk the sort of injury that could come from the winds and frost that accompany their more northern territory. Their kind are generally nomads, as birds tend to be, but they’ve taken up root in this place for generations upon generations now for reasons that have grown fuzzy over the years, but for as foolish as some other flocks may call it, this is their home.
D-Day is a ridiculously large piece of their culture, it’s their pride thrown on the line as the youngsters who must pitch in for the performance each year, and with that sort of responsibility they always make sure to throw every ounce of energy they have into making it perfect, often pass the point of exhaustion. But oftentimes there’s a breaking point, and they don’t know they’ve crossed it until it’s too late.
Hours into practice, Chan and Junhui accidentally slam into each other, but Chan is the only one that goes down.
It takes Jun a few seconds to figure out which way up is again and let the spots stop dancing in front if his vision, but by the time he’s corrected himself Hao and Soonyoung are already diving after Chan spiralling towards the ground far, far below them. And Jun isn’t far behind.
They manage to catch him, somehow, only a dozen or so meters above the unforgiving turf, but they manage it. And with the strength of two, then three young men they carry their youngest back to their treehouse with anxious worry clinging to all of them.
The first thing Chan notices as he blurrily regains consciousness is Soonyoung far too close to be safe for his heart. The second is Minghao pressing over his shoulder where it reallyfuckinghurtsOW. He shoves weakly at him with his good arm, but even that shifts his shoulder in a way that has him whimpering and curling in on Soonyoung’s lap.
“His shoulder is dislocated, I have to reset it before he hurts himself.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Maybe a sprained wing? It’s swelling, but hyung I’m seriously not a healer. I can’t fucking tell, what do you seriously expect me to-”
“I get it Hao!” Soonyoung’s shout makes all of them flinch, and after a moment he deflates, sighing as he rubs a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I know you’re not a healer. Me and Jun will hold him, can you reset it like this?”
Minghao nods, “I’ve learned basic med. Still doesn’t count for a healing license though.” He lays a hand on Junhui’s waist, guiding him into position. “Ge.. right here okay? And hold him like this, or else it won’t move right. Okay?”
Hao gives them a countdown to ready them for it, but Chan’s sudden jerk and pained shriek in his semi-conscious state still has both of them going rigid.
But it works. Chan’s able to move his arm again as he tucks into Soonyoung’s side with a pained sound, and Jun leans over to wipe at the bead of sweat on Minghao brow and give him a small smile, one that the other boy returns as he shoves his hand away with an eyeroll. “You act like I just performed open heart surgery. Fuck off.”
“So proud of my Hao~ What a good little nurse.”
“As sickening cute as this is, I’d really appreciate if you two went and got help. We still don’t know if he hurt his wing.” That gets the both of them to sober up, and they share a look before fluttering into the air without missing a beat. “Jisoo hyung is the closest healer, probably only fifteen minutes to the west if you’re fast.”
“We’ll be back in ten, have some faith in us.” Soonyoung gives Jun an appreciative smile that gets him a wink in return, before the both of them spring off the deck faster than the wind.
“They’re impressive.” He nearly snaps his neck with how fast he switches focus to Chan, and the boy grins up at him for the attention, sad and sweet.
Soonyoung maneuvers him carefully, pulling him up so Chan rests carefully on his chest, his good shoulder angled toward his torso while his damaged wing drapes sadly behind him. “Hey.” Soonyoung’s voice is soft, impossibly soft. “Where does it hurt?”
“Mm.. my whole left side just sorta resonates pain, but it’s fine.” He ignores the worried look he gets and pushes himself up so he’s at eye-level with Soonyoung, guilt in his gaze. “I’m sorry. That crash was completely my fault. My mind wasn’t focused where it should be and I’ve hurt myself and messed up our performance and risked hurting Jun hyung and ruined everything just because I- I don’t have any mental self control and—.”
Soonyoung reaches out for him, and Chan trails off as he lets it happen. “You’re rambling, calm down. The performance was honestly the last thing on my mind when I saw you go down, and don’t be stupid and apologize for getting hurt, I’m just glad you didn’t go splat.” His fingers comb through the younger’s hair and get tangled in his knots, and he’s so focused on the petting he almost doesn’t notice the guilty look on Chan’s face until he’s pushing Soonyoung away, the guilt only seeming to get worse seeing the hurt pulling at the older’s lips.
“No. I’m sorry because I was thinking about things I shouldn’t. And those things set me off, I couldn’t move the way I should’ve been able to. It really was my fault, it shouldn’t have happened.”
“You talk like you were thinking something sinful. We may have wings but we’re not angels, I don’t expect you to-”
“I was thinking about you hyung!”
Soonyoung stares, watches every muscle in Chan’s body tense and his face twist with nose scrunched up cutely as he hesitates to open his eyes, like he’s afraid. And with all that in front of you, well, it takes a moment to register words.
But he does, and Soonyoung can feel his heart beat hard in his chest behind thin bird-like ribs, like if Chan dares to say anything else, it will explode right out of him and join his fluttery stomach in the sky.
“I… what?”
“Hyung I- I think about you.” Chan finally opens his eyes, but he won’t look at him. Instead glancing off to the side as he bites his lip in between words, nails picking at messy nail beds. “A lot. And a lot more recently. You’re important to me, you’ve always treated me like a younger brother and taken me under you wing—literally—when I didn’t have anyone else. You get angry and strict sometimes but you always push me forward, and it made me appreciate you being in my life so much. And.. and once I realized just how much I appreciated you I twisted it. And then I had feelings I couldn’t control. And my stomach- every time you touch me I feel like it’s going to grow wings, and when you look at me my heart feels like it will beat out of my chest and join my stomach in the sky. And I know I’m young and I know you won’t reciprocate at all, but you deserve to know why I’ve been so bratty lately, and why I can’t focus and why I crashed and nearly broke my wing and-”
“Chan.”
He finally meets Soonyoung’s eyes, and to his utter surprise he finds no disgust there, but instead acceptance, and the fluffy cheeked and gleeful love he craved to see so much. And maybe even a misty look that if it had been left to foster any more, might have become tears.
“You’re rambling again.” And Chan feels himself both simultaneously melt and freeze solid at how soft his smile is. “I must not be as obvious as Jun and Hao think I am if you actually think I won’t reciprocate.”
There’s a pause, and Soonyoung can see Chan’s wings fluff up in an excited flutter behind him. Even if the left side is less enthusiastic, his body language gives him away. “Wait. Hyung, I don’t think I.. you actually..?”
Soonyoung’s arms go around Chan’s waist to tug him back into his lap, and the younger fumbles into a flopped, awkward mess half into his lap, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind. Soonyoung rubs at his back, over the ridges of his spine and around the edges where skin meets feathers, only pulling back when Chan hisses quietly as he brushes over his still sore shoulder blade.
His arms finally settle around the younger’s waist, and they share a few moments of expecting eye contact on one end, and contact full of relieved patience on the other. “Yes. You stupid bird brain. I think I’ve been in love with you since you brought home that abandoned fox pup. Or that time you accidentally broke into my nest. Or the time I on purpose broke back into yours and you smacked me with a pillow. Or when you forced me to rest when I was working to hard for that recital two years ago. Or maybe even when I taught you to fly and you kept tumbling because you-”
“I get it I get it!” Chan shoves his hands over Soonyoung’s mouth, and the older can only beam at the high flush on Chan’s cheeks. He licks the palm over his mouth, and he gets the cutest look of disgust he’s ever seen. “You’re so gross. And cheesy.” Chan wipes his hand on his trousers, and the disgusted look slowly fades. “You’ve seriously liked me all that time? Hyung.. That was years ago. We were just kids.”
“Yeah.” His gaze tilts downwards as he takes one of Chan’s hands in his, which happens to be the one he slobbered all over. “Back then I obviously didn’t recognize it as love. But I can’t remember a time where I didn’t feel like I do now, like if I were to lose you, I’d probably have to disappear too.”
Chan’s face pulls into a frown as he cups Soonyoung’s cheek with the tenderness he’d never before recognized as what it truly was, until now. “No. You’re not allowed to disappear. Not ever. Promise me you’ll stay.”
Soonyoung laughs, soft and sweet as he presses his face into the touch on his cheek. “Sure, but on two conditions. One, you can’t disappear either. And two,” He pulls the hand he has held captive to his chest to feel his fluttering heartbeat, and leans in to ghost his lips over Chan’s “You have to kiss me, to seal the deal.”
And he does.
“As cute as this is, I’m pretty sure I have a patient to attend to?”
They both break apart with muffled shrieks of surprise, and Jisoo tilts his head at them from the platform, gentle smile in place as he makes his way over with a few flaps of fluttery, graceful silver wings. “Not trying to say I don’t enjoy a show, but I didn’t fly all the way over here to watch you lock lips.”
Jisoo kneels beside Chan, and the boy can only give him a flustered look as he’s maneuvered around for inspection. “H-Hyung, please.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you get back to it when I’m done. Does this hurt?”
Soonyoung diverts his attention as Jisoo wrestles Chan’s shirt off of him, and only then notices the other half of his team standing on the platform with two of the biggest shit-eating grins he’s ever seen. They lift approving thumbs at him with scary synchronization, and he shoots them a glare that could pierce a dove out of the sky.
“So I’ve got good news and bad news.” Jisoo kneels back on his haunches as he hands Chan back his shirt, and they all give him expecting eyes.
“He didn’t break anything.” Chan’s face lights up like a fireworks display, but Jisoo immediately shoots him down with a look that silently says he’s not finished yet. “But. This is definitely a sprain. I’m not letting you fly for a while.”
“But- But hyung! D-Day is around the corner and I-”
“D-Day?”
“The festival. Look, there’s no way I can’t be in that performance. We’ve been practicing for so long, and it will mess everything up if I’m not there, and-”
Soonyoung sets a hand on Chan’s arm, and he clams up immediately. “You’re rambling.” He has the decency to look ashamed, but Soonyoung soothes it with a hand on Chan’s other arm, guiding his body forward to face him. “As much as I’d love you to be with us up there, I’d rather you not be a reckless little shit and let us do all the work for once, okay?” He raises a brow, and Chan purses his lips reluctantly. “We can rearrange our form in time,l get you the best seats in the house, make sure you don’t get hurt next year, and I’ll buy you whatever sweets you want at the festival. How’s that?” He finally gets a tiny, very very tiny nod, but that’s good enough.
He pulls Chan in for a hug and threads his fingers through the boy’s dark hair. “We’ll make sure to put on the best show they’ve ever seen, and next year we’ll make sure we top it, with you by our side.”
“Right. And I’ll show each and every one of you up.”
“Cheeky little-” He digs his knuckles into the top of Chan’s skull and earns a shriek of pained laughter and the familiar wiggling and flying elbows that let him know everything will be alright.
-
“Hey, did it hurt?”
“...What? Are you going to ask when I fell from heaven because that’s really-”
“No! No, did it hurt when you fell for me ?”
“........Well considering I dislocated my shoulder and nearly broke a wing, yeah. It hurt real good.”