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“Are you jealous?”
“Hm?” Doyoung replied softly from where he was resting against Taeyong’s side.
“Are you jealous?” Taeyong repeated, something fluttering in his chest, unbidden.
“Of who or what am I supposed to be jealous?” Doyoung muttered, still looking at his phone. Taeyong couldn’t crane his neck the right way to see what was on the screen, and he knew Doyoung wouldn’t have wanted him to see.
“Of me,” Taeyong clarified, staring blankly at his own screen. He had completely forgotten what he wanted to do there.
Doyoung snorted. “Don’t say stupid stuff, aish,” he scolded and pushed his shoulder into Taeyong’s ribcage, forcing him to emit an exaggerated pained sound.
In the short ensuing scuffle, Taeyong had entirely lost track of his phone, while Doyoung had miraculously retained access to his. It wasn’t fair — well, it never was, they both fought dirty, — but now Taeyong had nothing to do except lie there and study the lines of Doyoung’s face. It was a good face, though, so he spent some time doing just that.
“I’m not jealous of you,” Doyoung said, suddenly, startling Taeyong out of his reverie. “We both have our own paths, our own accomplishments,” he looked like he was picking the words carefully; Taeyong always liked that. “I can only be proud of you, you know.”
Which was not what Taeyong had meant at all — he didn’t phrase it right, damn, — but… on a second thought, it was stupid. Maybe less stupid than the idea that Doyoung could be jealous of Taeyong’s professional achievements, but still. It was a nice evening, he didn’t want to spoil it with his weird ideas.
Taeyong sighed, nodded, laid a hand on Doyoung’s waist, and didn’t force it.
*
He wasn’t sure when he first noticed it. Maybe around the time all the SuperM promotions had finally started in full, and Taeyong had been quite surprised to find Doyoung writing to him as often as he had. In a way, he’d understood — they hadn’t really been apart before, not for such a long time, especially not promoting without each other. Well, not the promoting part, of course they had done some separate promotions — but nothing that long, that far away, that… separate.
He even felt bad at first, because he had gotten so swept up in everything — the new group, new people all around, the performances, the interviews — and as much as a part of his mind always stayed with his members back in Korea, well… he found himself replying in short messages, putting Doyoung’s sudden clinginess down to the fact that he probably found himself overwhelmed with the group without Taeyong there, without their weekly complaining sessions (Doyoung usually did the complaining, and Taeyong just nodded at the appropriate moments), without someone to share the load with. So he just fired off some “take it easy”s, “doyoungie fighting!!” and the like, and considered it done.
And he had come back, and it was fine, until – all too soon — it was almost time to leave again, and somehow Doyoung was at his side more often than not. And Taeyong, well, he relished it, he always did, even if at the time he was puzzled at such change.
It only grew more apparent after he returned from the first leg of SuperM’s tour in America. Doyoung was just… there, working, resting, nagging, worrying, just — there. And Taeyong soaked it in, because, well — as close as they were, it’s been a while since he had felt Doyoung’s attention, his care so acutely, so centered on himself. Usually, it was distributed quite evenly between all the members, and that was fine, that was something Taeyong relished, something he could always rely on.
But this was different, it was not about the group, it was about them.
It’s been a while since Taeyong had thought so much about them.
It was not because they weren’t close, almost the opposite: the closeness meant that everything was natural and obvious and didn’t need any close attention, or — or change.
Or so he had thought.
Nowadays, the way Doyoung behaved sometimes — it reminded him of the early days, of Doyoung from a long time ago — from way before, when Taeyong still felt too timid to openly return his affection, when everything felt a bit harder, his edges more jagged, his brain churning out thought after gloomy thought, and Doyoung seemed to have made it his personal mission to make him open up.
Even then, Taeyong had only pushed him away in front of cameras, but he remembered how Doyoung would tug him closer, smiling at him in that innocent way, showing all of his teeth. Taeyong would mock him out loud, but it was hard not to think he was cute, even then.
He remembered how Doyoung would hug him in the dark after-hours, and never force him to speak, or to acknowledge it in the daylight. It still embarrassed Taeyong, thinking about it, how he tried to resist what was being offered to him so freely. It still rattled his mind, how fully Doyoung had embraced him in all senses of the word, when he had nothing to offer back. It took time, before he began talking. It took even more time for Doyoung to talk back.
Slowly, it changed, but not just in the ways Taeyong had been expecting. They had grown closer, all of them, through performances and shows and fame and everything else. It felt good, being affectionate with his members, even in public, even under the watchful gaze of cameras. Their relationship was good, comfortable, trusting and mutual — there was nothing Taeyong could really fear from showing it.
Doyoung was of a different opinion.
He came to realise it slowly: through the way Doyoung now escaped his skinship sometimes, through how he tried to establish stronger and stronger boundaries between professional and personal. It had stunned Taeyong at first — why would he hide something that made him happy, why would he not want to show the fans such important parts of his life?
“Because I prefer to separate public and private,” Doyoung explained. “I don’t think of it as hiding, or lying, but some things are just for Dongyoung.”
“But… why? Why is it that important?” Taeyong insisted.
Doyoung sighed. “Because I need to control who sees some things, who knows some things. It’s really… the minimum of control I can have, you know?”
They talked then and after, long and difficult conversations about the fans and the public and what they felt comfortable showing. In the end, they settled into a tentative half-understanding, allowing each other’s ways to coexist. But now — now everything Taeyong had known, had thought he’d known, seemed to be falling apart. He couldn’t even be sure exactly when it had started, because it wasn’t like he paid that much attention to what was private and what was public, but now that he had started looking, he couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t constant, these weird bouts of… affection, of — possessiveness? jealousy? — that Doyoung now expressed around him. Taeyong tried to interpret it in dozens of ways before coming to this flawed conclusion. But something about it made sense, how it seemed to intensify the more time he spent outside the dorms, outside of NCT activities; how possessive Doyoung’s touches felt sometimes; how it happened in public more than when it was just the two of them — when usually Doyoung preferred to keep affection for more private moments.
It made sense, but it didn't.
*
He tried to put it behind them, after the conversation, of course.
Yes, Doyoung had… misinterpreted, and Taeyong hadn’t had the courage to correct him, but if he was really jealous, wouldn’t he have reacted differently? If he truly thought something like that, felt like that?
And still, wasn’t it a laughable thought? Doyoung, jealous?
Right.
And then there was Baekhyun-hyung.
Taeyong — okay, he was a little bit awe-struck. Who wouldn’t be, right? And of course he was… eager to share it with everyone, including his best friend, just how friendly and welcoming and caring Baekhyun was. The way all of their SuperM hyungs were, obviously. But Baekhyun was— he was simply—
He was cute, and funny, and so down-to-earth while also super experienced, talented, hard-working… the list went on and on. What never failed to amaze Taeyong was his ability to control the atmosphere of the group — he always managed to put everyone at ease, even the overworked staff. The way he would gently guide them in practice, always hearing everyone out, always intuitively… Taeyong could only aspire to become such a leader one day.
So maybe he has gushed about him a bit too much, and every time he noticed Doyoung behaving strangely he just… tried to put it aside. He was simply imagining it, he must have been.
And then.
And then Baekhyun dropped by on one of their dance practices.
It was a casual one, so he didn’t interrupt anything intense, and the members were just fooling around as usual while Taeyong himself was trying to figure out a way to improve his part of the choreo – as usual, Doyoung scoffed, – and then the door opened and Baekhyun’s face appeared from behind it. He looked like he was carrying some snacks. Mark squeaked ungracefully and ran to hug Baekhyun, and Taeyong had the unwordly pleasure of seeing Yuta grow slightly green in the face. The others slowly trickled to the door, and Taeyong allowed himself to smile and greet their senior, who immediately grabbed him into an embrace which Taeyong accepted happily.
And then he noticed Doyoung.
He was hanging a little behind all of them, which was understandable because that’s what he usually did – stayed back and let the rest of the members be an excited mess, wherever it was (it was usually both of them, staying in the back). But sometimes he let go, too, running to a new thing he had just seen, and Taeyong was fiercely proud of the fact that he had been a witnessess to some of these moments.
This… wasn’t any of this.
He was looking like he had drank something sour, which was ridiculous because Taeyong knew Doyoung loved sour things. He looked like after they had to practice Touch for too long and the fake smile on his face was starting to contort into something scary.
Taeyong was distracted by some weird scuffle where it seemed like Taeil and Baekhyun were being pushed into a sing-off, with Donghyuck boasting about how Taeil could beat anyone in this company, and Mark "respectfully disagreeing". Johnny looked very conflicted.
Taeyong let himself be dragged into the fun, deciding that they deserved a break and mitigating some shouting before it escalated. Once he remembered to glance at where Doyoung was still hanging back, muttering something to Yuta, the other’s face had almost turned back to normal.
"Why doesn't Doyoungie try?" Taeyong offered before he could stop himself.
"No-no, I couldn't," Doyoung, startled, protested. "You know I'm not on your level, hyungs, Taeyongie is just joking—"
"Nah, the more the merrier," Baekhyun joined with the glint in his eye, and now other NCT members were also egging Doyoung on. He looked to Yuta — for help, probably, — but Yuta only smiled widely and innocently.
Doyoung shook his head. "Alright, alright."
Jungwoo hollered, evidently ready to support his favorite hyung. Others cheered. Taeyong smiled, pleased with himself for including Doyoung.
But as he watched and listened as the rest of his members provided increasingly ridiculous challenges for their vocalists, his mind inevitably started to wander, coming back to Doyoung's weird expression earlier.
He couldn't help it — he wanted to test his theory. Over the next half an hour, he found excuses to touch and prod Baekhyun, and also shamefully hinted at taking his side in the sing-off, since "obviously I'm very proud of my members, but it's Baekhyun-hyung…". At some point they realised they didn't have anyone to judge the contest — Donghyuck was obviously way too biased, and others pretended they couldn't possibly do it, even though Mark had an insanely good ear, — and so Jaehyun suggested recording them and posting somewhere for fans to decide. Doyoung, somehow, looked intrigued by this idea, but it didn't sit well with Taeyong.
"What if we send it to someone we know?" he suggested.
"Like who?" Yuta snorted.
"Uh… Kun?" Taeyong tried.
Doyoung snorted. "As if Kun is an unbiased party. No, it should be someone who doesn't have direct connections to any of us."
"If only Jinki-hyung was available—" Donghyuck started, dreamily. "Well, actually, we can still send it—"
"Dude, you are not sending anything to any of the sunbaenims currently in the military!" Mark yelled.
"Girls, then," Johnny concluded, and they proceeded to argue about which noona could be an unbiased judge for this contest.
"What about Taeyeon-noona—"
"No way," Doyoung yelped and went slightly pink.
The results were inconclusive, and they really had to go back to practice, so they decided to postpone the sing-off. Taeil looked slightly relieved, while Hyuck was fuming. Baekhyun was just grinning, promising them a fair match later.
Doyoung seemed... very engaged in the results. Well, Taeyong knew that his friend took his singing very seriously, very passionately — and he was competitive by nature, so it was no surprise that he was drawn into the idea despite initially hanging back. But the way he talked about beating Baekhyun-hyung felt a bit… different.
Briefly, he wondered if there might be some bad blood between them — did Baekhyun somehow steal an idea for a vocal cover from under Doyoung's nose? no, no, Doyoung wasn't this petty — and quickly brushed the thought away. He wasn't sure anyone could actually stay mad at Baekhyun for long, no matter how they tried.
And yet, that's exactly what Doyoung seemed to do.
He rejected any offers of snacks whenever Baekhyun dropped by — politely, but firmly.
He didn't talk much when Baekhyun came by. The only time he did was to tell their sunbaenim how fond Taeyong seemed of him. Again, he looked like he ate three lemons, which he kinda did on the regular, so the comparison didn't make much sense to Taeyong either.
Most incriminating, perhaps, was how he became very quiet whenever Taeyong would mention Baekhyun. After any interactions, or even moments when Taeyong talked about him — including lives and public appearances, — he would be quiet and then, slowly, turn… well, clingy was the best that Taeyong could describe it.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention, and maybe that was the exact reason why he never said anything to Doyoung. Whatever it was that made him like this… Taeyong didn’t want to just end it. He felt very selfish, of course, but with time, it started to seem like an intricate dance they were engaged in — and even like they were both enjoying it.
*
“It’s cute how possessive your... friend is,” Baekhyun casually mentioned once amidst practice for Beyond Live.
"I— um—" Taeyong sputtered, looking around to check if Ten had heard, because if there was someone he couldn’t trust with this information, it was him. "What— who—"
“Relax,” Baekhyun laughed, patting his back, and leaned in closer. "I don't mind. For what it's worth, I think he could stand to get a bit more jealous. What do you say?"
Taeyong stared at his senior dubiously. Was he really suggesting—
“It’s… I’m not sure I could…” he trailed off, laughing awkwardly, while Baekhyun’s fingers were dancing on his waist. The glint in his eyes reminded Taeyong of someone, but he couldn’t put it down.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Baekhyun whispered, and then went off to bother his own dongsaeng who was already being smothered by Taemin. Taeyong was mildly terrified.
From that moment on, even though Taeyong hadn’t explicitly requested anything like that, Baekhyun always found some chances to touch him — all very, very innocent, but also very pointed. Taeyong yelped, and jumped, and even occasionally screamed, but none of his reactions seemed to deter Baekhyun — and, well, he didn’t exactly mind. He accepted Baekhyun’s attentions with as much grace as he could.
And Doyoung definitely noticed.
That was what Johnny told them all one time, while they were waiting for the beginning of their own Beyond Live rehearsal.
“Oh my god, did you see Doyoung’s face when hyung came in with a packet of sweet potato chips just for Taeyongie? I swear he was gonna punch—”
“Youngho!” Doyoung cried out with little regards to politeness.
Johnny raised his hands placatingly. “I’m just saying, Baekhyun-hyung should watch his back—”
Doyoung scoffed and went away. Taeyong’s gaze found Johnny’s eyes sparkling with mirth.
It was funny, right? It was harmless and it was fun. Taeyong was sure they all agreed on that. Doyoung would often overreact to some of their more innocent mischiefs, and it was all part of the game, part of their dynamic.
He was one hundred procent certain of this, up until he wasn’t.
*
Taeyong didn’t even think much of the conversation they were having that evening — he wasn’t even fully engaged with it, curled up on the sofa, idly scrolling through someone’s secret Twitter feed and only half-hearing what was being said: it was something about dream artists they would collaborate with if they could. Doyoung and Jaehyun were arguing about some only vaguely familiar Western artists in increasingly loud voices, and Donghyuck was just egging them on.
“At least we all know who Taeyong-hyungie would love to work with,” Donghyuck said, and it took several seconds before Taeyong realised his name had been called. He raised his gaze in confusion.
“Huh?”
“You know…” Donghyuck continued, “short, handsome, funny, belts notes like no one’s business, silver hair— wait, not anymore—”
He had that terrifying glint in his eye, and Taeyong suddenly realised who Baekhyun reminded him of.
“W-well,” Taeyong stuttered. “Well, you know, I’m sure Baekhyun-hyung has much better prospects—”
“Oh, cut the crap, hyung,” Hyuck waved him off, and Jaehyun snickered. “We all know he’d love to collaborate with you in many, many ways...” he trailed off, leering a little.
Taeyong couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Doyoung tense up. Something inside him pushed, and he was powerless to stop it.
“You really think so?” he asked dreamily, playing along. “Maybe if I write something that hyung likes, then maybe the label would—”
Doyoung stood up abruptly, his chair clattering.
"Well, I can't wait to hear your solo album featuring Baekhyun-hyung,” he hissed and marched off. The door to his room slammed shut, leaving the rest of them behind in stunned silence.
Taeyong could only stare at where he was just sitting a moment ago, entirely lost.
Whenever they talked about possible solo features before, their collaboration was always something of a given. Taeyong with the rap and lyrics and melodies, and Doyoung with his vocals, his advice and invaluable help — it was so obvious that it didn’t even bear mentioning.
Was that it? Was Doyoung actually worried about Baekhyun somehow "stealing" Doyoung's place as Taeyong's professional partner, as the one Taeyong always had in mind for the vocals in his songs?
Collaborating with Baekhyun-hyung would be a dream come true, of course. If offered the opportunity, he knew he wouldn't refuse.
But… Doyoung had been the first person who listened to his songs. To all his jumbled messes of melodies, his pubescent raps. He was with him when Taeyong went through the phase of just using all and any synths he could find. He was with him through months when Taeyong couldn't finish a single track, when Taeyong's songs got rejected by the company, when he got told in no uncertain terms that the only thing he could contribute was rap verses, and no more.
It was all a long time ago, but Taeyong held onto these precious memories. They defined him. They had made him who and what he was now, and what he was was Doyoung's friend. Doyoung's… partner, in a multitude of ways.
Was Doyoung really scared that Taeyong would somehow discard him?
"Earth to Taeyong-hyung," Jaehyun’s calming voice broke through his frantic thinking. Taeyong raised his gaze, and Jaehyun’s eyes were kind, even though he was pretty sure he didn’t deserve it. “Come on, go after him. This won't be good if you let him stew in this.”
Taeyong nodded automatically, thankful for this random moment of wisdom. He glanced at Hyuck, who had the self-conscience to look a little bit guilty.
“Don’t stay up too late,” he said uselessly, and they both snorted. Right.
He knocked on the door to Doyoung’s room, though he didn’t expect an answer. After a few moments, he gingerly opened it up a little. It was dark inside, but he could see the vague Doyoung shape on the bed.
“Can I come in?” he inquired.
The shape didn’t respond. Taeyong decided to take it as a yes and sneaked in, shutting the door quietly behind him.
He stood in place for another minute, waiting for Doyoung to say something — maybe yell at him to get out, which was ridiculous, of course, since this was Doyoung.
When no words came from the bed, Taeyong stepped closer.
"You're sulking," he observed. His eyes were adapting to the dark, and now he could see that Doyoung was holding his penguin in his arms. Cute, Taeyong thought absentmindedly.
“I'm not sulking,” Doyoung responded despondently.
“Yeah, right,” Taeyong snorted, and then, because he couldn’t resist, “Sulky Doyoungie.”
Doyoung didn’t say anything in reply. It was dawning on Taeyong, slowly, that maybe this was more serious than he had thought, more important than some harmless fun at Doyoung’s expense.
He took a couple more steps, ready to stop if Doyoung said so.
But Doyoung stayed silent, and soon, Taeyong was right in front of his bed. He sat on the corner awkwardly.
“Are you seriously worried that I won't make songs with you anymore? Doyoung.”
Doyoung sighed, and at least that sound was familiar.
“No… yes?” he offered hesitantly. “It's fine, Yongie, you can make songs with anyone.”
It sounded so off, so unlike him, and in the back of his mind, Taeyong wondered how many sides of Doyoung were still there to uncover for him.
“You're not jealous of me making songs with Mark,” Taeyong noted tentatively, a bit uncertain of his use of the word.
“I’m not worried,” Doyoung intoned, burrowing further into his pillows, and Taeyong’s heart clenched. “As I said, you can make songs with anyone.”
“I still wanna make songs with you,” Taeyong muttered.
Doyoung stayed motionless, so he chanced reaching a hand out and gently poking his leg.
“What is it about, Doie?” he asked. “I… you know how important you are to me. In my songs, in my life — there’s always a place for you. That won’t change.”
It’s funny, how freeing, how wonderful it felt to say something like this. They were so close, he had thought. They were so open and honest with each other, but things like this — these heartfelt confessions — they were just too awkward to simply dump on one another, weren’t they? And yet, it seemed, so desperately needed, sometimes.
“It's not— I do know,” Doyoung sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging himself. Taeyong ached to embrace him, but he sat still, frozen by the sudden weight of the conversation. “Sometimes it feels like… like I need to do more, to, to keep you, except I don't wanna keep you, but... I'm afraid. It's stupid. I mean, it's not stupid, it's just my feelings.”
Taeyong nodded, even though Doyoung wasn’t looking at him.
“It's only that... my mind drifts, sometimes,” Doyoung said, slowly, as if considering every word. “We are close now, of course, due to the group, due to living together, working together every day. But… some things remind me how fickle that is. And… you know, I have made my peace with it. I thought,” he adds, shaking his head. “I thought I was ready for the day you’d outgrow me. My... caring, my nagging, my worrying, my overbearing nature. Even if I spent so long—” he cut himself off here. “Sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear this. Sorry.”
And Taeyong was unmoving, sitting there, frozen, as if he was already holding all of Doyoung — holding all of his tender, precious feelings in his hands.
“I just feel like I need you too much sometimes,” Doyoung added with a little laugh. As if he was embarrassed. As if it was funny.
Taeyong reached out his hands, slowly hugging the penguin as well as he could.
“I’m sorry,” he said, deciding that was a good place to start. “I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted. No, wait, let me finish. I’m sorry, I kind of… got carried away.” He sighed. Doyoung didn’t try to speak up again. “I mean, it doesn’t excuse me, but I didn’t know you felt this way, I really, really didn’t. To be honest, I can’t really imagine outgrowing you, or anything like that. Maybe it’s naive? Maybe you think it’s naive.” He petted the penguin. “But it has never entered my mind. Why would I outgrow you? Even if I find something interesting, someone interesting, even, I would want to share it with you.”
Doyoung raised his eyes, and it was too dark, but Taeyong could swear he could see something tender, something gentle in them.
“Do you think I don’t like your worrying?” he poked the penguin, and Doyoung’s lips shifted into something of a smile. “Do you think I don’t like your caring, your thoughtfulness, your selfless desire to make people around you happy and comfortable and content through whatever means you can? And the way you always know what’s on my mind, always know what I need, are always there for me?”
“Well, some people apparently can just waltz in and suddenly they’re your new best friend,” Doyoung grunted, but he seemed less tense, now.
Taeyong laughed. “Just because Baekhyun-hyung knows my coffee order doesn’t mean he knows me. Or that I’ll show my songs to him, or ever ask him to feature on my album. No one takes care of me like you do, Doyoungie.”
Doyoung looked mildly placated and more than a little embarrassed now, so Taeyong risked a move forward, settling in his rightful place beside his friend and throwing a hand around his shoulders.
“It was stupid,” Doyoung muttered. “I knew it was stupid.”
“It was important to you,” Taeyong objected. “It’s not stupid. I want to know how you feel.”
Doyoung groaned, hiding his face in the penguin. “I got it. I got it. Stop.”
Taeyong hummed. He didn’t think they were done with this conversation, not by a long shot, but something in their relationship, something in him shifted, and he welcomed it.
“I don’t mind you being jealous, by the way,” he added some time later, when they were simply lying quietly on the bed, Doyoung’s hand going softly through his hair. “It’s kinda… it’s cute.”
“It’s not cute.”
“It is. You’re cute. Cute Doie~” he sang, grinning.
“Shut up,” Doyoung flushed and said, rather desperately, “Go to sleep?”
Taeyong gaped, raising his head a little. “In your bed?”
“In my bed,” Doyoung confirmed matter-of-factly. “Just for tonight,” he added.
“Mhm,” Taeyong agreed. Minutes passed, Doyoung’s breathing quieted, but he wasn’t sure whether he had already fallen asleep. It always took Taeyong longer, so he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his bangs making his whole vision blue.
“You know what,” he said, quietly, not wanting to wake Doyoung in case he was already asleep. “I think I have a new song I want you to hear.”