Chapter Text
Sunghoon has always believed himself to be a pretty self-aware person.
In fact, he may be a little too self-aware; it’s part of the problem, why he can’t stop thinking about how he looks, how he comes across to other people, what they may be thinking or not thinking about him. He evaluates and judges himself constantly, because the thought of being unaware and caught by surprise by other people’s opinion of him is terrifying.
What Sunghoon would come to realize is that he could be an unreliable narrator of his own life.
Sunghoon still remembers those early days, the in-between of leaving I-Land as the victorious seven and their official debut a time of change, of relationships in flux.
Even without the addendum of a cutthroat survival show as background, Sunghoon has always had a hard time making friends. Isolated at the ice rink, where he was the only boy his age training under his coach and the girls would whisper and giggle among themselves, words hidden behind hands and in the spaces between clique circles he was never allowed to participate in. Isolated at school, where he was at best the local celebrity that everyday students admired from a distance but never actually tried to befriend, and at worst that one student that only showed up to class from time to time to try his hand at not openly falling asleep at the back of the room.
He wasn’t much inclined naturally to form close relationships with his peers, too shy to start conversations on his own and too awkward to keep them going when others did, and then his chosen path meant he never got to have that much practice at socializing during his formative years.
Getting into Enhypen would prove to be a necessary deviation from what had been Sunghoon’s norm though, as there was nothing he could do besides try to learn to communicate with the other six boys that had been chosen to share a common destiny with him.
Some of them were easier to crack. Sunghoon had known Jay for a while, and although he couldn’t reciprocate the openness that Jay moved through life with, dependable and so sure of his place in the world that he had no qualms about carrying his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see, Sunghoon had found balance there. There was no need for grand gestures, as Jay simply refused to keep his affection to himself and had bulldozed through Sunghoon’s insecurities from the start.
Heeseung was similar, if in a completely different way. He was the oldest, and it showed in those moments where nuance was needed to understand not what others were saying, but what they actually meant. Heeseung didn’t want to be a leader, but would always offer his expertise and his ear whenever someone was in need of a confidant or a push, and Sunghoon was very grateful to have a hyung that would share their wisdom, but still be approachable and an equal part of their group.
Jake was, of course, the easiest of them all. Sunghoon can’t really explain why or how when it had never happened before, but Jake just gets him, and has from day one. A lot of the time, Sunghoon doesn’t even have to vocalize something for Jake to know what he’s thinking which, considering that Sunghoon can’t put his foot in his mouth if he keeps it shut, has its advantages (it also has its disadvantages, since there’s nowhere to hide from Jake’s knowing looks even when Sunghoon would have liked to keep his thoughts to himself). Sometimes, Sunghoon can’t help but wonder if Jake is what Sunghoon could have been, had he not been an awkward, insufficiently socialized mess, but then Jake will do or say something so sweet, so terribly tender, and wholesome, and Jake that Sunghoon will be quickly disavowed of the notion. He could never be that pure, he has too much ambition and too much to prove for that.
Jungwon was just approachable and genuine in general; firm but calm, and not easily spooked. He was good at listening to his members when they finally opened up, better at keeping an eye out for trouble and a finger on the pulse of their little band of misfits, the best at pushing even the stubborn towards open dialogue and sharing. He was a gem, their hidden ace and young leader, and Sunghoon had only been too glad to share his burdens with him when Jungwon had offered. Jungwon may not have understood him as easily, but just knowing that he always cared to try, that he would always listen, had been a relief to Sunghoon.
Ni-ki had been a mystery, at first. Sunghoon used to think that Ni-ki was the epitome of the young genius, what Sunghoon himself had never been, falling short even after years of slaving on the ice: extreme talent matched with equal focus and drive; withdrawn and intense, too dedicated to his craft to meddle in the mundane with the rest of them. And he was all of that, in a way, but also so much more. As it turned out, a genius 15 year old kid will still be a kid, and their youngest was away from his family, thrown into a different culture and language, and still expected to stay afloat and perform as usual. Ni-ki had only needed reassurance and a place to call his home away from home to bloom into the cheeky, mischievous little demon that haunted their dorm, and as annoying as living with a prankster was at times, they all inevitably doted on him.
And then there had been Sunoo, who would turn out to be a different beast altogether.
Sunoo should have been easy. He meets all the requirements, on paper: a mood maker, good natured and usually cheerful; bright smile easy on the lips and easy on the eyes. Chatty and understanding, Sunoo has no problem initiating a conversation, approaching people and drawing them in, comfortable and engaging, the perfect example of a social butterfly.
And yet. Sunghoon could be observant: his lack of a brain to mouth filter is what usually gets him in trouble, but from a safe distance, enough that his inherent social anxiety doesn’t rear its ugly head, he thinks he’s actually quite good at reading people. He has never had a problem with realizing what people want from him, what expectations they are dangling over his head like the sword of Damocles; knowing how to meet those, that’s where he will find himself lacking. But Sunoo, Sunghoon can’t seem to get a clear read on.
Sunoo seems like he’d be an open book, a colourful display of every human emotion, but on closer look some passages must be written in a foreign language that escapes easy interpretation; Sunghoon can only hope to understand these in time.
All this to say: Sunghoon didn’t even know how to start talking to Sunoo, at the beginning. It’s not like they didn’t talk, because they did; it just didn’t go beyond the surface, the general everyday script that they all took part in curating while they got to know each other behind the scenes.
And it was then, in the rare moments where they found themselves alone, when Sunghoon would look at Sunoo’s profile and feel the pull, the need to ask, to know. He wanted more, the chance to take a closer look, but for the life of him he couldn’t put himself out there, opened up to judgement like Sunoo had done himself that one time in I-Land’s kitchen.
Sunghoon has never been that brave. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s regretted not taking that offered hand, that earnest invitation of friendship, back then. It would’ve made his life so much easier.
As it usually happens when Sunghoon needs help feeding his thoughts through a Sunghoon-to-normal human translator, he ends up going to Jake. Because Jake is the least likely to judge him for getting himself into this situation, but mostly because Jake will be the least prone to teasing Sunghoon about it and the most likely to be actually helpful.
Not this time, apparently.
“But you knew Sunoo as trainees, right?” Sunghoon pushes, doing his best at trying to hide the whining tone in his voice at having his hopes dashed on the first try.
“Yeah, I guess, but it was only for a little while-“ Jake tries to explain, wincing at the almost immediate interruption that follows.
“How did you make friends with him?”
“I didn’t?” Sunghoon frowns, not liking this answer. Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair. “They put us in the same unit, but we didn’t really spend that much time together, Sunghoon-ah.”
“It’s still more than what I have.”
“We mostly commiserated about how little time we had as trainees and how the rest of you were going to be so far ahead of us, actually.” Jake scoffs. “Quality bonding time, that was.”
“Jake.”
“Okay, okay! Jeez.” Jake laughs at last, shaking his head and with it the old memories of feeling inadequate that have no place between them anymore. “I don’t know, dude, just go talk to him. He really doesn’t bite,” comes the final, very unhelpful advice. “Sunoo’s pretty chill and harmless, I’m sure he’ll forgive you for saying something dumb.”
Sunghoon doesn’t believe Sunoo is harmless, not by a long shot. Not with the slanted look he gets in his eyes sometimes, when he’s smiling at the room but the gears are clearly turning inside his head. It’s a good thing that Sunoo is soft-hearted, because Sunghoon has no doubt that the only thing keeping Sunoo from realizing his full potential as a natural disaster is a conscious choice not to take over the world.
Jake must have read the sentiment on Sunghoon’s deadpan face, but he still chooses to ignore it and poke at him. Guess there’s some teasing coming his way, after all.
“You could always just ask Ni-ki, he seems to be the current expert.” Jake makes a gesture towards Sunoo’s bunk bed, where there’s still two pillows innocently lying together, marking the aftermath of Ni-ki’s nocturnal escapades into his hyung’s bed.
Sunghoon’s nose wrinkles. “I don’t think Sunoo would allow me into his bed that easily.”
He only realizes how that sounded when it’s too late and Jake’s face is already glowing with glee.
“Oh, definitely not, but is that something you would be interested in?”
Jake’s voice drips with mischievousness, a lopsided grin that is only meant to tease and has no hidden purpose. Still, Sunghoon can’t help but fluster.
“Piss off.”
Sunghoon gives up on searching for outside help after that.
Somehow though, it still gets better. Maybe because Sunghoon is making a conscious effort, maybe because Sunoo sees him making an effort and chooses to extend that branch of friendship again and allow Sunghoon in. The important part is that it stars getting better over time, little by little, until they find a balance that works for them.
They would tease and bicker endlessly, Sunghoon revelling in the notion that he can grab Sunoo’s attention from wherever it is and focus it back on him, that the other will always, inevitably, turn to him and give him a reaction. The back and forth is predictable and rewarding, a source of comfort; a constant that Sunghoon can always count on, in these hectic and changing lives of theirs.
Their growing closeness is a progression, one that is not exactly linear but has a marked positive tendency. This extends to their whole group, something that they can all feel as the months go by and their cohabitation gets easier. They learn each other’s rhythms, carve their space amongst each other, both together and alone. Enhypen starts to feel more like a cohesive unit and less like a random collection of individuals thrown together haphazardly, which relaxes ruffled feathers and gives everyone something to look forward to.
A safe space to turn back to after a full day of work. Shared life experience. Somewhere to belong.
Sunghoon doesn’t see it happening in real time, only realizes that they’re pulling it off at certain random moments, when he will stop for a minute and think ah, so this is what it’s like.
He has this moment with Sunoo on an ordinary night. They’ve had a long day and everybody is tired, but Jay vows to get some dinner into them all before they conk out and sends them packing to wash up and chill while he conjures up something quick but filling in the kitchen.
Sunghoon is one of the first to finish up his night routine, so he wanders into their living room to wait on the couch. He’s on his phone, trying to catch up with his feed before sleep catches up to him; sleep seems on the cusp of winning, as he’s already had to rescue his phone twice from falling on his face, but he’s doing his best.
And then Sunoo enters the room, towel still draped over his shoulders to catch any residual water dripping from his damp hair, book in hand, and waddles towards the couch to flop right besides Sunghoon.
Sunghoon doesn’t think anything of this, at first. He continues to scroll aimlessly, body sinking even lower into the cushions so that he can better support Sunoo’s leaning weight on his shoulder. Sunoo glances at him for a moment, a small, fond smile that barely pulls on cheeks still flushed from the shower gracing his lips.
“Thank you,” he says softly, like an afterthought, before going back to finding his place in his book. Sunghoon only hums in response, pleased but absent.
There’s a moment of stillness (or as much stillness as there can be in their dorm, with Ni-ki loudly asking if anybody’s seen his favourite sweatpants and Jay’s nagging at Heeseung not to snack before dinner is ready), and then Jungwon pipes up.
“Ah, Sunoo-hyung, are you finally reading it? Make sure to tell me what you think!”
Jungwon, who has been sitting on the other end of the couch all this time.
“I will! I’m almost done, so don’t you dare spoil it for me.”
Sunoo, who reaches out to poke at their leader with his toes, starting up a conversation but still not moving from the place where he had chosen to sit. Which was leaning on Sunghoon.
Sunoo could’ve gone to Jungwon; in fact, that would’ve been the expected choice. They are close, tactile and familiar with each other, easy and comfortable. The fact that Sunghoon was chosen instead lights up his brain like a strike of lightning.
His body must tense up, because Sunoo turns to look at him for a moment, then raises his head from where it was laying on Sunghoon’s shoulder, suddenly apologetic.
“Oh, am I dripping on you? Sorry.”
He is, actually. Not so much dripping as pressing a damp spot through Sunghoon’s threadbare sleeping t-shirt, but still.
It’s not uncomfortable though, and Sunghoon finds he doesn’t want Sunoo to leave his side.
“Nah, it’s fine,” he says, reaching his arm around Sunoo’s shoulders to pull him right back into position before he can second guess what he is doing. This accomplishes the objective of making Sunoo stay, but leaves Sunghoon’s hand hovering over the bare skin of Sunoo’s arm.
It would be awkward to pull it back now, right? No need to call attention to the gesture. Sunoo doesn’t seem to mind, going right back to talking with Jungwon. Jungwon throws Sunghoon a look, sharp eyes clocking him for a second, but whatever was there dissolves the next moment, and the room settles back down.
Fully awake now, Sunghoon relaxes into the warmth of another body close to his own, and revels in being first choice for once.
He gets addicted to the feeling very fast. There’s something heady in being chosen on the down moments, the times when Sunoo is quiet and wants to only exist for a little while. He felt softer then, somehow more vulnerable with his usual cheerful excessiveness tucked away for later, and Sunghoon felt giddy with the realization that only trust could make that happen.
Jake had called it spending alone time together when he and Sunghoon first became friends; an apt name for the simple act of sharing space and comfort, while still being able to do your own thing or steep in your thoughts. They all needed it sometimes, and while they were getting to a point where they could have it with every member, they would still play favourites. Some people were just more compatible at a certain point in their lives, and that was fine.
From the moment Sunghoon notices Sunoo reaching out to him, he starts facilitating these moments. Something as simple as leaving open room next to himself when he sits away from the group, or offering one of his earbuds silently, lo-fi music playing at low volume, when Sunoo catches his eye from the other side of the room.
A safe thing, a sure thing. The assurance that Sunghoon doesn’t need Sunoo to be on constantly, that Sunghoon understands.
Sunoo’s answering smile as he tucks his body close is worth it every time.
(Sunghoon can’t be sure of how many of the others catch on to what he is doing, but it ends up being Jake who casually calls him on it.
“You’re really on a mission to catch all the Sunoo time you can, huh?”
Sunghoon doesn’t deny it, though. Jake only smiles, eyes knowing, and doesn’t mention it again.)