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“Oh, Sangwon is joining a survival show.”
Somehow, out of all the mixture of voices coming from the members sprawled across the living room floor and the movie they’re watching on TV, that’s what gets Sunghoon’s attention.
Jay isn’t even next to him—he’s on the other end of the foot of the sofa, uninterested in their showing of the night and choosing to scroll through his phone instead. He’s probably on Twitter like he always is.
Sunghoon typically ignores his offhand comments during times like these because Jay usually says things just to say things, and not because he expects a response from the recipient. But Jay rarely voices out other people’s names unless it’s someone important to him, either. It’s always ‘one of my friends’ or ‘a producer I know’ but never outright ‘Sangwon’.
Sunghoon can probably count on one hand the number of times Jay has said his name out loud the past week, because Jay is just like that. He puts meaning into every little thing he does—including calling someone’s name as if there’s incredible weight in doing so, when it’s really not that deep. It perplexes Sunghoon.
“Sangwon? You mean Lee Sangwon?” asks Heeseung, bending over from where he’s lounging on the sofa to get a look at Jay’s screen.
“Yeah, the Sangwon we trained with.” Sunghoon has to strain his ears to catch what Jay is saying over the action scene playing on the screen. “Remember when we went to Brunei together? Those were good times.” For a moment there’s a wistful emotion on Jay’s face, like he’s not really here. Sunghoon feels his pulse quicken. “I hope he debuts. It would be nice to see him at music shows if our promotions overlap.”
“Are you sure you’re not just looking forward to power-tripping him as his senior?” Heeseung jokes.
“What do you mean. I always take good care of my juniors—right, Sunoo?”
Sunoo rolls his eyes, not even bothering to face Jay.
It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Jay dotes on those who are younger than him. Having been born in the same year, though, Sunghoon and Jake are naturally excluded from that category. Sometimes Sunghoon thinks about how his birthday is only a few weeks off from him being on the receiving end of Jay’s doting.
Not that he wants to be doted on by Jay. Like, seriously. Their current dynamic is nice, maybe even a little exhilarating, although it can be frustrating whenever either of them is in a prickly mood. That being said, Sunghoon can’t deny he’s starting to feel some type of way about it—especially when he hears the way Jay says Sangwon’s name like it’s delicate, the way he talks about their memories together as trainees like he’s rediscovering his childhood dreams.
Sunghoon thinks it has to do with the sudden realisation that he shares Jay with a lot more people than he thought he did. Jay has a lot of love in him, a lot of love to extend to the world, and Sunghoon doesn’t doubt that he’s capable of giving and giving, but with the newfound awareness that this person exists…
There’s something about Sunghoon getting an even smaller slice of Jay’s love that bothers him.
⟡
They’re being shuttled to a magazine shoot at the crack of dawn when Sunghoon is made aware of the big mistake he has made.
“Are those Sangwon’s accounts?”
Sunghoon flinches at the name, then looks down at his phone where he has the search bar open to check out the new posts on their official account. His whole body heats up.
Shit. He forgot to clear his Instagram search history. It’s such an amateur move that Sunghoon can only point and laugh at himself. Internally.
“Ah… that?” Sunghoon gives a half-hearted shrug. “I was kind of curious about him after your conversation with Heeseung.”
Understatement of the century. He was so ruffled over how they continued to reminisce over old times, even long after the movie had ended, that he had to know what Sangwon was all about.
A preliminary search showed that he was born in 2003, which was enough for Sunghoon to see where Jay’s affection was coming from. Of course, he then proceeded to go through all his Instagram posts the rest of the night.
The conclusion he came to at four in the morning, with a schedule he had to attend an hour later? Sangwon is so Jay’s type that it had Sunghoon physically cringing in his bed. There wasn’t a single post on either of his accounts that didn’t give off that emo, moody, slightly pretentious vibe—but that’s exactly the kind of thing Jay would fall head over heels for.
“I’m not sure what he’s like these days, but when we were trainees, Sangwon was soft-spoken and liked following me around,” says Jay, smiling to himself. “He always listened to what I had to say, the cute kid.”
There’s that look on Jay’s face again, from when he first found out Sangwon was joining the survival show. Sunghoon’s jaw clenches.
“I listen to what you have to say,” Sunghoon responds automatically, if only to bring Jay back to the present and where they are right now, sleep-deprived and sitting in a speeding van with actual dreams to reach.
Jay raises a brow, skeptical. “Do you really?”
“Well, even when I don’t, it’s because I already know what you’re going to say.” Sunghoon leans back on the car seat. “I know you better than you do yourself. That’s a blessing in and of itself.”
Sunghoon is always paying attention to him, whether Jay realises it or not. He sees the way Jay becomes more animated whenever he gets showered with compliments, the way his shoulders slump ever so slightly whenever Niki or Jungwon take the teasing a little too far. Sunghoon sees these things because he has always been able to see right through Jay.
It’s Sunghoon’s own fault for not doing more to show that he cares. He knows all too well that if he started expressing these things more clearly, Jay would reciprocate without hesitation. That’s just how pure-hearted Jay is—he sees everything and everyone as they present themselves. He’s too generous.
Too bad Sunghoon would rather give Jay the runaround than say these things outright. It’s scary, knowing how wide Jay’s figurative field of vision is and just how many people he can really look at. Sunghoon doesn't want to know where Jay has placed him in it. Because if he's been pushed out to the edges, he doesn’t know if he can handle it.
But maybe that is the case, and is the same reason why Jay doesn’t see Sunghoon the way Sunghoon sees him.
“I seriously don’t know where you get your confidence from.” Jay just shakes his head, his usual bite not present this morning, and turns away to look outside.
When Sunghoon catches sight of the window reflection, his breath hitches.
There’s a growing smile on Jay’s lips.
It’s enough to allow himself to think he’s a more important part of Jay’s life than he believes. Just until the end of this ride.