Sometimes looking at Hakyeon was like looking at the sun.

The sun, of course, couldn’t have been sitting on the couch, scrolling through something in its phone, but Hakyeon could, and he was, and Taekwoon couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Hakyeon's hair was still damp from his shower, a small white towel draped over it, and he was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, the light of his phone’s screen reflecting off his tired eyes. As exhausted as he probably was, he was still radiant, a tiny smile playing on his lips when he saw something nice on his Twitter feed.

His presence itself was calming and Taekwoon felt himself being pulled to it, moving to scoot closer to him on the couch, to hug him, to lean into his side, just to be close, but then Wonshik shuffled out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, sharing a smile with Hakyeon, and the spell was broken.

The sun was still shining brightly, but its rays avoided Taekwoon.

Sometimes Hakyeon was like the sweetest lullaby.

Jaehwan felt most soothed and pampered when he was resting his head in Hakyeon's lap, blinking slowly up at Hakyeon who was watching TV. His fingers—lithe, soft, warm—were carding through Jaehwan's hair, tickling his forehead and massaging his scalp, barely touching, but it was relaxing to the extent Jaehwan felt himself starting to doze off. He wanted to stay there forever, wanted Hakyeon's hand in his hair, on his face, in his palms.

Hakyeon was warm and comforting, his quiet laughter ringing into Jaehwan's ear and drawing a smile on his face, too, making him want to purr like a small cat enjoying the close proximity of his owner. Jaehwan shut his eyes and let himself drift off as Hakyeon's moves slowed down, still playing with Jaehwan’s locks and twirling them around his digits, but not massaging anymore.

Hakyeon's fingers stopped abruptly and Jaehwan cracked an eye open, saw Wonshik standing in the doorway with a fond expression on his face, steadily holding Hakyeon's gaze, and Hakyeon smiled at him, his eyes sparkling, hand still.

Without Hakyeon's caresses, Jaehwan felt insomniac.

Sometimes Hakyeon was simply perfect.

He would move weightlessly on his feet like clouds in the sky, dancing tirelessly in the practice room, looking himself in the eye through the mirror. His unruly hair fell softly back into his forehead and eyes as he threw his head back, some locks sticking to his temples.

Hongbin was mesmerized by the sight, watching Hakyeon's body twist in the most majestic ways from his seat in the corner, his heart throbbing at twice the speed like it was trying to copy the rhythm of Hakyeon's. Hakyeon's skin was glowing with sweat, his breath coming in short, loud puffs, making Hongbin's own hitch in the back of his throat.

“I messed this one up,” Hakyeon grinned, continuing to dance but still looking at Hongbin.

Hongbin didn’t notice any problems—truth be told, he only noticed the way Hakyeon swayed his hips, the muscles tensing in his shoulders under his black t-shirt. His hands were shaking in his lap.

Hongbin couldn’t hear the opening of the door, and he only noticed Wonshik when he stepped behind Hakyeon, covering his eyes with his hands. Hakyeon froze up, his chest heaving, and when Wonshik whispered ‘guess who’ into his ear, he started laughing, prying Wonshik's fingers off his face and leaning back into the following embrace, both of them giggling.

Hakyeon was perfect, but not for Hongbin.

Sometimes Hakyeon was frustrating.

He would ruffle Sanghyuk's hair in a somewhat patronizing way, like he still thought of Sanghyuk as a child, hugging his head to his chest and whispering to him in baby talk. It annoyed Sanghyuk to no end, considering how much he felt closer to Hakyeon the older he got; he kept counting the days to his next birthday so he would take a step forward, reach Hakyeon's level at some point. But Hakyeon didn’t seem to think so.

He wanted the kisses on his temple to be planted lower, on his lips, maybe; he wanted to hold Hakyeon in his arms the way Hakyeon tried to scoop him up at times, caress Hakyeon’s hair and protect him, the way Hakyeon thought he still had to do to Sanghyuk.

Hakyeon's arms s around Wonshik's torso, too, but they held Wonshik differently, pressing up against his back and resting his chin on Wonshik's back, closing his eyes as Wonshik rubbed his cheek to the top of Hakyeon's head.

Sanghyuk wished the angry tears would disappear from his eyes.

Hakyeon was always beautiful.

It didn’t matter if he was tired or energetic, ill or healthy, fresh out of the shower or sticky with sweat—he was gorgeous in a way Wonshik couldn’t put into words. He would lose his sense of time watching Hakyeon trying to sleep, his eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, a small crease forming between his eyebrows.

“Stop staring at me,” Hakyeon said on more than one occasion; his words were slurred from exhaustion, but the corners of his lips would quirk up every time.

“I can’t,” Wonshik replied and that made Hakyeon giggle, scooting closer to him in the bed, his breath hitting Wonshik's throat.

He hugged Hakyeon by the small of his back, lowering his head to press kisses to his soft hair until Hakyeon tipped his face up, blindly pecking Wonshik's jaw until he found his mouth. They would fall asleep smiling, and Wonshik would dream of Hakyeon, too, unable to let go of him even in his sleep.

Hakyeon shone brightest for him, and he knew he was the luckiest man on earth.