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yibo isn't usually one for skinship, but in the van, sungjoo can't help it. he inches closer slowly, slides an arm around his shoulder hesitantly, rests his head on his upper arm, and the younger doesn't flinch away. 

 

they're silent then, while seungyoun dozes on the other side of yibo and in the front two seats wenhan mouths along to his music and yixuan chats quietly with the manager. sungjoo closes his eyes, feeling yibo warm and solid next to him, and, god, he's in love, isn't he?

 

"yibo-ah," he breathes. yibo turns his head slightly to look at him. 

 

"hm?" his voice rumbles in his throat as he raises his eyebrows sleepily. 

 

staring into his half-closed eyes, sungjoo's suddenly at a loss for words. "i... nothing." he shuts his eyes again and exhales heavily. "it's been a long day, huh?"

 

he can feel yibo's nod. "it always is."

 

sungjoo wants to say something, anything, but the words he needs never come.

 

(when he does find the words, he's going to say them at the top of his lungs, if only to make up for the countless times he couldn't.)

 

 

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he pokes his head into the room and opens his mouth to call yibo to dinner, but the smile on the chinese boy's face as he stares down at a handful of polaroids makes him pause.

 

"yibo-ah?" sungjoo stops in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other subconsciously scratching the back of his neck. the blond starts and tries to hide the pictures as well as he can in his hands, flushing red to the roots of his hair. sungjoo feels a jolt in his chest. "was that..?"

 

"why don't you knock?" yibo asks, voice an octave higher than normal. 

 

"yibo-ah, were those pictures of..."

 

"no-!" yibo yelps when sungjoo steps into the room and sits down on the bed next to him, reaching for his clenched hand. he slaps the older's hand away, almost squealing, "no, they weren't!" 

 

sungjoo draws back, bemused. he's rarely seen yibo this worked up, especially over something like this, but maybe... "yibo, can you look at me?" 

 

the air is suddenly tense between them as yibo raises wide eyes to his, face still red. hesitantly, slowly, sungjoo cups his chin with one hand; the younger's skin is hot on his fingers as he leans close.

 

"hyung...?"

 

sungjoo closes the distance and kisses him. there's a tiny, barely audible gasp, then sungjoo deepens the kiss and yibo falls silent. he hesitates, breath coming in unsteady puffs against sungjoo's cheeks. then—then—he shifts forward, lips moving against sungjoo's and oh my god.

 

they separate for the sake of breathing after so many endless moments, and sungjoo barely bites back a yell of pure joy when he sees the look in yibo's eyes.

 

"i like you a lot," they say at the same time, yibo in korean and sungjoo in chinese. they laugh.

 

yibo opens his hand slowly. there are the polaroids the two of them took when they stole wenhan's camera back before their debut; one of them acting cute, another of sungjoo ruffling yibo's hair (still black at that time), yet another of the both of them making ugly faces—they were still somewhat awkward back then, but in these photos there's little sign of that.

 

a grin grows on sungjoo's face. "you kept them," he says softly.

 

"yeah..." 

 

their eyes meet again, and then in a blink they're diving in for another kiss.

 

if sungjoo's heart had a voice, it would be shouting in elation now, he's sure. 

 

 

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A/N: this is the worst i am the worst omg why

i have such a weakness for bojoo though ???? ugh i was up until like 2 am at camp valentines day weekend writing this WHERE ARE MY PRIORITIES