Date Night

 

 

Jinyoung was not a man to forget things. He remembered his first meeting with each member; the lyrics and choreography to Got7’s entire discography; and the answers they gave in interviews (more importantly, whenever the group – no, he was not a person to hold grudges, not at all).

 

Which was why, when Jinyoung asked Yugyeom one afternoon to have some ox bone soup with him, Yugyeom’s mind immediately flashed back to the incident two years ago when he had refused and Jinyoung had been sulking for weeks.

 

Possibly years, if the way Jinyoung was looking at him now was anything to go by.

 

Yugyeom’s first thought was “I can’t eat that” – which he also said out loud, because he didn’t have much of a filter.

 

Jinyoung’s eyebrows arched slightly. According to Yugyeom’s years of experience, that meant annoyance. (It happened a lot, so it wasn’t difficult to pinpoint).

 

“Oh well, I’ll just ask someone else then,” Jinyoung said lightly, but with the right corner of his mouth turned downwards. And that meant – oh. Disappointment. Yugyeom’s heart immediately lurched because while he could handle annoyance, disappointment he could not.

 

“No, okay, I’ll go, hyung,” Yugyeom said quickly, before Jinyoung could even turn around. Yes, so maybe he was a pleaser, he liked to make people happy. So what?

 

If he was being perfectly honest – which he was less often than he should be – he especially liked making Jinyoung happy. He arguably had a small (or a big, the size of his ever-growing limbs) soft spot for his hyung, on whom he’d depended since trainee years. He liked it when Jinyoung’s eye wrinkles appeared, like they did now, as Jinyoung smiled at him in mild surprise.

 

Yugyeom shrugged, as if to clarify his sudden change of mind. No big deal; happened all the time.

 

“Okay, let’s go around eight, then,” Jinyoung said finally, his smooth voice a contrast to his bright expression. “Don’t be late,” he added in a warning tone, giving him a (semi) playful hit to the arm.

 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Yugyeom replied cheekily. And you know what – he really wouldn’t, because despite the menu he was kind of looking forward to tonight’s dinner.

 

 

 

It was a sultry June evening when they set off around eight. Since the restaurant was close by, they decided to walk. Besides, Yugyeom welcomed the chance to stretch his legs.

 

Both were wearing face masks and their casual attire to attract as little attention as possible. They could generally still walk around freely, though, despite their rising popularity. Yugyeom hoped that wouldn’t change anytime soon, attached as he was to his daily visit to the nearby convenience store.

 

“Why did you ask me when you know I don’t like ox bone soup?” Yugyeom asked. He’d been idly wondering all afternoon.

 

“You have the taste buds of a child,” Jinyoung said, pleasant as ever, “it’s time you learnt to eat something other than pizza and choco shakes. Besides, what kind of Korean doesn’t like ox bone soup?”

 

“Me,” Yugyeom answered defiantly. “What does it matter that I prefer easy food? It’s my style.”

 

“It’s my style,” Jinyoung mimicked in English, voice mocking.

 

Yugyeom pouted. “Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“I would never dare make fun of you. You’re the dance king of Got7, after all.” Jinyoung gave him a smile that felt equally teasing as genuine, and oh, here it was again: the compliments that felt like insults, a style that Jinyong had cultivated into something of an art over the years. Yugyeom always seemed to be the prime recipient, though.

 

And truth be told – Yugyeom liked it. Liked that Jinyoung always went the extra mile for him, trying to get that reaction, liked that they had their own brand of conversation. It was never boring. Yugyeom liked not being bored.

 

“Maybe you just asked me because you like spending time with me, hyung, hmm?” Yugyeom said, trying to level the playing field. His voice sounded more hopeful than teasing, though. Darn it.

 

A small smile appeared on Jinyoung’s face. “Of course,” he replied easily.

 

And – oh. Yugyeom forgot all possible retaliations, because that was the answer he’d been wanting to hear all along. He couldn’t help the big grin that appeared on his face and Jinyoung didn’t even need to say it: so easy.

 

 

 

The restaurant’s owners greeted Jinyoung when they entered – apparently it was a place he frequented – and they were ushered to a table at the far back, out of sight from the rest of the customers. Yugyeom sat down on the bench against the wall while Jinyoung took the seat opposite him.

 

“It’s nice,” Yugyeom commented, looking around. The place had an authentic feel to it, with family pictures on the wall and an ahjumma cooking in the kitchen wearing a bright pink apron. It made him think of home, of meals with Chuseok that he now had to miss out on because of promotions.

 

“I know,” Jinyoung said. He’d picked up the plastic menu card and studied it carefully, a thumb between his teeth. “I like to come here when I’m stressed. It helps me calm down.”

 

Yugyeom nodded. Jinyoung often liked to do things alone – going to the movies, taking a walk along the Han river. He hadn’t understood at first, but he learned to over the years. He now liked that aspect of Jinyoung-hyung, the fact that he followed his own path. He sometimes wished he were a little more like that.

 

“Shall I just order for the both of us?” Jinyoung asked, giving him a questioning gaze above the top of the menu. Yugyeom shrugged, which should indicate he was fine with it. It’s not like ox bone soup A would taste better than ox bone soup B.

 

Jinyoung turned around to signal the owner. As they waited for him to arrive, Jinyoung said, “Oh by the way, Yugyeommie, this place doesn’t sell choco shakes.”

 

Yugyeom made a sound that was mid-way exasperation and embarrassment. “Of course I know that, hyung,” Yugyeom said, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

 

“Soju then?” Jinyoung said with a satisfied smile.

 

Okay, maybe he’d been hoping a little that he could get his chocolate fill here to counter the soup taste, but at least this saved him the embarrassment of asking. Soju would do the job, anyway.

 

They placed their order and fifteen minutes later their food and drinks arrived. Jinyoung watched Yugyeom carefully as he took a sip from the broth. He tried to keep his face neutral, but upon tasting the bone marrow he was once again reminded why he was not a fan.

 

“You’re terrible at acting,” Jinyoung said with an eyeroll. He diverted his attention back to his own bowl, from which he ate with relish.

 

“We can’t all be as good as you, hyung,” Yugyeom said with a smile. He peered at his bowl. “I can eat the vegetables. And the side-dishes.”

 

“Maybe it’ll start tasting better after a shot of soju,” Jinyoung suggested. He opened he bottle and poured two cups. “Come on, let’s do a toast.”

 

Yugyeom accepted his glass and they raised it. “To Got7?”

 

“To Got7,” Jinyoung agreed with a smile. They downed it at the same time. It was bitter and Yugyeom winced for a moment. The aftertaste made his mouth tingle pleasantly though, and his body glowed as though he was sitting near a fireplace.

 

Jinyoung grinned at him, his expression fond. “Look at our maknae, all grown up.”

 

Yugyeom hit his arm half-heartedly, even though he kind of like being coddled. Protesting was mandatory though. “Yah, hyung, I’ve been an adult for a while now.”

 

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at the informal speech, but instead said: “Yes, I’ve noticed, the way you’re dancing on stage. Are you trying to give our fans a heart-attack?”

 

Yugyeom pursed his lips. “You don’t like it?”

 

“I never said that,” Jinyoung replied, holding his gaze, before redirecting his attention to his food. Yugyeom stared at him, letting those words ring in his mind. After a few seconds he remembered he needed to eat, too. Right.

 

He picked out the radishes and green onions from his bowl and then started on the side-dishes (never was he more thankful for rice and kimchi, on whom you could always depend, amen). For every mouthful of rice he took a sip from his broth, because it made Jinyoung happy.

 

“Next time we come here, you’ll enjoy it more,” Jinyoung said. Yugyeom wasn’t sure about that, but he didn’t protest, if only because he liked the idea of coming here again with Jinyoung-hyung.

 

The evening passed by amicably. Jinyoung ate for the two of them as the soju bottle gradually became emptier. Yugyeom did most of the talking: about their next comeback, about trainee memories, about where he wanted to go for a holiday (he did not approve of Jinyoung’s fishing trip choice, which sounded like something you’d do when you were with retirement. Of course Jinyoung was highly indignant).

 

After some time Jinyoung excused himself to go to the restroom. Yugyeom slouched in his seat, feeling lethargic all of a sudden. He whipped out his phone and took some selcas to pass the time. The lightning wasn’t very good, but as BamBam always declared: that’s why filters were invented. As he inspected his pictures (his selca skills had gotten better over the years, he had to admit) he briefly considered uploading them to his SNS, but decided not to. Somehow he wanted to keep this evening to himself.

 

After Jinyoung returned from the bathroom, he slid into the bench next to Yugyeom. He rested his head on Yugyeom’s shoulder, being a little more forceful than necessary while getting comfortable, and let out a content sigh. “Aah, this is nice.”

 

“Am I your pillow?” Yugyeom asked, more amused than annoyed, because he was used to this by now. When Jinyoung started getting tired his barriers from during the day evaporated and he became unusually cuddly. It was cute.

 

“Pillows don’t talk,” Jinyoung commented, his voice muffled. His face was pushed against the fabric of Yugyeom’s shirt, as though he was inhaling its scent. Yugyeom was trying hard not to dwell too much on that fact.

 

“This one does,” Yugyeom said instead, “consider it a bonus.”

 

“Hmm. You better start talking about something good then.”

 

Yugyeom considered for a moment, feeling less weird than he should be about wondering what a pillow would say. Bonus effects of the soju. He stared at the top of Jinyoung’s head, strands of his black hair sticking out. It looked soft. Without really thinking about it, he patted it with his hand.

 

“Park Jinyoungie-hyung,” he said cutely. “Handsome actor Park Jinyoung.” He giggled. Okay, that was definitely the soju talking.

 

Jinyoung raised his head to look at him, expression bemused. “The pillow sounds a little drunk if I’m honest.”

 

Yugyeom pinched him in the side, earning an affronted yelp. “Like you aren’t tipsy, hyung!”

 

“Oi, my alcohol tolerance is better than yours, thanks very much.” He raised his head from Yugyeom’s shoulder altogether and, to Yugyeom’s disappointment, sat upright.

 

As if to prove he wasn’t tipsy, Jinyoung poured himself another drink. When Yugyeom also reached for the bottle, Jinyoung swatted his hand away. “None for you, Yugyeommie, you’ve had enough.” Yugyeom pouted but didn’t protest. He was probably right, anyway. Jinyoung annoyingly often was.

 

Instead he settled for watching Jinyoung drink. Everything felt a little hazy, as if time was moving slower than usual. The practice room seemed so far away. Everything did, except the small space where the two of them were sitting. Jinyoung was humming along to the ballad the restaurant was playing, which Yugyeom only vaguely recognised it. Something about a man reminiscing the love of his life as he sailed away on his boat. Sad stuff.

 

“I love this song,” Jinyoung said absentmindedly.

 

“Hmm? I don’t’ know it,” Yugyeom said.

 

“It’s because you’re too young,” Jinyoung said, as though their age difference wasn’t a mere three years. “It’s a really good song. You should learn to appreciate the classics.” Yugyeom bit back the many retorts he could make to that, feeling himself smile instead. Jinyoung was so old-fashioned sometimes. His heart clenched fondly (familiarly, by now).

 

Jinyoung took another sip. The alcohol made his lips glisten. They were pretty lips. More voluminous than his own, kind of pillowy. Good for pouting. Among other things.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Jinyoung asked, noticing his silence. Yugyeom shrugged. Jinyoung raised an eyebrow and Yugyeom his lips.

 

“Just – thanks for taking me here.”

 

Jinyoung smiled. “Of course.” He patted his hand, before loosely intertwining their fingers. It felt comfortable, familiar. It felt –

 

“Feels kind of like a date.”

 

Yugyeom blinked when his brain caught up with his mouth. Before he had time to elaborate (or, far more likely, blush profusely) Jinyoung laughed out loud. His eyewrinkles were more discernible than ever and Yugyeom stared at them while feeling fuzzy.

 

“You wouldn’t be a very good date, though,” Jinyoung commented, still with a smile, “look how much food you have left on your plate. It’s impolite.”

 

Yugyeom considered for a moment. Jinyoung’s thumb was playing with his own, doing a good job at distracting his brain from forming coherent thoughts. “Doesn’t that show effort, though, coming to a restaurant I don’t like just to spend time together?”

 

“Ooh,” Jinyoung said, impressed. He used his free hand to pat his head, slowly threading his fingers through his hair. “You got better with words, Yugyeommie.”

 

Yugyeom ducked his head, shy but pleased.

 

“Hmm. I wonder how the evening would progress if this were really a date?” Jinyoung mused. His voice was casual, as if he were just wondering out loud, but when Yugyeom looked up there was a glint in his eyes. A shiver ran down Yugyeom’s spine.

 

“Well,” Yugyeom began.

 

“Well?” Jinyoung was still idly playing with his fingers, thumb running over his forefinger and back. His other arm was swung across his shoulders. They were close. Suddenly they were so very, very close.

 

“You know,” Yugyeom said.

 

“I don’t know. Please be specific.” Jinyoung wouldn’t look away. His gaze was burning and Yugyeom couldn’t meet it any longer; had to avert his eyes. He redirected his attention to their intertwined hands. Not a good distraction.

 

“Am I making you shy, Yugyeommie?” Jinyoung’s voice was teasing, but there was an undertone of something else and it made Yugyeom feel hot all over.

 

Deciding that there was no point in pretending (his blushing was obvious even in the dimly lit room) he lifted his face. “Yeah, so what?” Yugyeom said defiantly. Instead of more teasing, as he’d expected, he was met with a smile. It was a genuine smile, the kind that made Jinyoung’s eyes sparkle all prettily. Jinyoung lifted his left hand to play with his hair. He was looking at him with such impossible fondness that it left Yugyeom breathless.

 

“That’s okay,” Jinyoung finally said. He moved his fingers from his hair to his face, gently tracing his jawline. Goosebumps scattered across Yugyeom’s arms.

 

“I – ”

 

“Yes?” Jinyoung’s finger moved on to his chin, slowly tracing the soft skin right beneath his bottom lip. Yugyeom swallowed. And oh – sod it.

 

“About the date thing. They usually kiss at the end, right.”

 

Jinyoung’s eyes shot up, as if surprised by his sudden boldness. Yugyeom felt a small pang of victory. Emboldened, Yugyeom leaned in, eyes trained on Jinyoung’s lips. He could hear a sharp intake of breath from Jinyoung, and oh this felt good.

 

But then Jinyoung wet his lips and Yugyeom stopped dead in his tracks. He’d thought about this before, casually. But now. He could feel Jinyoung’s breathing against his lips. Warm and very real. He swallowed.

 

Jinyoung made an impatient noise. “Oh, just do it,” he said, and closed the gap between them.

 

And then Jinyoung’s lips were against his and Yugyeom couldn’t think anything but oh . Jinyoung was kissing him, in a restaurant, and Yugyeom liked it. No, he didn’t like it, he loved it. Jinyoung’s lips were soft and warm and he tasted like soju and – okay, also like soup, but even that didn’t make it any less intoxicating.

 

His body was moving of its own accord as he pulled Jinyoung closer, before his hyung could get any silly ideas such as to move away. Jinyoung didn’t seem intent on letting go any time soon though, deepening the kiss instead. A swarm of butterflies made its appearance somewhere below Yugyeom’s midriff, fictional and yet very real for the way they were fluttering. He tightened his grip on Jinyoung’s shoulders, who was kissing him eagerly – hungrily, almost – as though he’d been waiting for this moment to happen. That fact that he hadn’t been the only one thinking about it was enough to make Yugyeom lose what little restraint he had left.

 

Yugyeom pushed Jinyoung back, flat against the wall. Jinyoung made a surprised sound, but didn’t seem to mind. Having Jinyoung this close, Yugyeom dimly wondered why they’d never done this before. He could smell Jinyoung’s clean aftershave scent, mixed in with their body heat. Jinyoung’s hands were tangled in his hair, slowly combing through as he angled their heads just right. The gesture felt both soft and controlling. Very Jinyoung. He wanted all of it.

 

Their make-out session was up there with dancing in terms of how good it made Yugyeom feel, so when Jinyoung finally broke apart, he couldn’t help making a displeased noise. Okay, maybe it even classified as a whine.

 

“Let me catch my breath for a moment,” Jinyoung clarified, raising an eyebrow.

 

Despite feeling overwhelmed, Yugyeom still managed to smile teasingly. “Forgot you’re old, hyung.”

 

Jinyoung poked him in the side, but it was without menace. In fact, they were grinning at each other like idiots and didn’t seem to be able to stop. Jinyoung looked beautiful with his cheeks the colour of roses. Yugyeom was just staring, taking it all in. He hadn’t felt this giddy since Got7’s last big award, maybe.

 

“You taste like ox bone soup,” Yugyeom commented, just to say something.

 

“Is that your idea of being romantic?” Jinyoung replied with a huff.

 

“Hmm, but you also look really pretty, hyung,” Yugyeom said and affectionately rubbed his nose against his, Inuit style. Jinyoung laughed, before pulling him in for another kiss.

 

Yugyeom could get used to this.

 

 

 

 

After another thirty minutes well spent (read: kissing each other until even Yugyeom became breathless) the both of them leaned back contentedly. Jinyoung naturally reclaimed Yugyeom’s shoulder as his pillow while Yugyeom smiled up at the ceiling. He didn’t think that smile would go away anytime soon.

 

“So, how would you rate this date, hyung?” Yugyeom asked after a moment of pleasant silence. He was feeling lethargic, but happily so. Jinyoung had mentioned earlier on that the restaurant was opened all night. Maybe they just shouldn’t leave.

 

“Hmm. Date talks a lot. Disses my food choice. Doesn’t appreciate Korean classics.” He glanced at him. “Not a bad kisser, though.”

 

Yugyeom made a face, not sure if he should feel pleased or disgruntled. He poked Jinyoung in the side.

 

Jinyoung laughed. “I loved it,” he said finally.

 

Yugyeom made a happy squeeing sound. “Me too,” he replied fondly. “But next time… let me choose the food?”

 

Jinyoung gave him a look. “I’m not going to McDonalds with you.”

 

Yugyeom pouted. That tended to be effective.

 

“Okay… maybe I will,” Jinyoung conceded and then kissed him again. After all: they had all night.