#wenjoo

'Do what?' asks Yixuan, blinking. Wenhan feels Yixuan's arm come across his shoulders. He's steady, warm.

Seungyoun waves it off; he doesn't mention it again.

Wenhan pushes up against Yixuan as they both watch the eggs in the frying pan over the stove. Behind him, he can hear talking, scuffling. For the moment, he feels Yixuan's arm all sturdy around him, branch fingers curling around Wenhan's bicep, pushing him up against the tree trunk side of Yixuan.

Once it's done, Yixuan smothers a yawn behind his palm as Wenhan takes the pan to bring it over to the plates and bowls already set out. Before he can move, Yixuan's fingers snag at Wenhan's shirt, leaning from the side to muffle a 'thanks' against Wenhan's forehead.

His lips are soft, gentle, unmoving as they kiss his temple, and Wenhan feels rooted in place. After a moment, quietly, slowly, Yixuan pulls away, and Wenhan can't help it - he smiles up at him. He feels warm.

-

(water)

When Seungyoun comes around, Wenhan is lying flat on his back on the bench in the practice room, watching Yibo lazily freestyle to the music playing from the speakers, as they wait for Sungjoo and Yixuan to come back with snacks.

He yelps a little in surprise when Seungyoun crashes down beside his face, sudden and bright, snaggletooth catching on the corner of his bottom lip as he grins, eyes glittering.

'What?' asks Wenhan suspiciously, hand moving out to jab Seungyoun in the cheek with his finger. Seungyoun nips at him, but lets his hands slide out from Wenhan's wrist to his shoulder. He's curiously silent - at least for Seungyoun; Wenhan can still hear the muffled little sounds from behind Seungyoun's teeth that means he's trying not to laugh.

He's overwhelming - a wave washing over Wenhan, when Seungyoun's hands press Wenhan's shoulders flat against the bench, and Seungyoun straddles Wenhan's waist.

Wenhan opens his mouth, tries to say something, but the air is caught in his lungs as Seungyoun leans down. 'Ge, stay still.'

He does, sees Seungyoun lean down, lashes catching along Wenhan's cheek like droplets, before his mouth is pushes up against Wenhan's cheek.

It takes a moment for Wenhan to realize it's wet. Seungyoun is laughing. There's drool all over his face.

Seungyoun rolls off and slides away as Wenhan sputters, trying to grab him but also wipe his cheek. Yibo is watching them, brows scrunched together, as Seungyoun ducks under Wenhan's arm again. At some point during the chase, Wenhan stops yelling and starts laughing.

-

(metal)

Back pushed up against the arm of the couch, Wenhan has his laptop sitting warmly on his stomach as he types, letting Seungyoun and Sungjoo's voices become background noise. It's why he gasps when Yibo's fingers settle on his shoulders, standing behind him and bending down.

Wenhan looks up, 'yeah?' and the sound of his voice seems to surprise Yibo, whose nails dig sharply into Wenhan as he tenses. It's only for a moment, then Yibo leans down, face close.

'Can I?' he asks, gaze intent and cutting as he stares down at Wenhan.

'What is it?' asks Wenhan, though he already has an inkling of what this is about.

He gets his answer when Yibo leans down, pressing his lips to Wenhan's neck so quickly that the kiss nicks him.

Biting the inside of his cheek so he won't laugh, Wenhan grasps one of Yibo's hands on his shoulders - his skin feeling smooth and cool - so that Yibo won't run when Wenhan tips his head to the side, shows off the line of his neck.

Yibo is smart. He understands. Wenhan huffs out a laugh as Yibo sleepily nuzzles into the other's neck, his teeth sometimes catching along Wenhan's throat - quick and nipping - when Yibo sighs or smiles and keeps leaning his weight onto Wenhan.

They stay that way for a minute or two, until Sungjoo is popping his head in front of Wenhan, trying to steal Yibo away. Wenhan lets Yibo's hand go with a smile, outright laughing when Yibo's eyes narrow and sharpen on Sungjoo's grinning face and he tries to bat Sungjoo away, but gets dragged from Wenhan instead.

-

(fire)

'So, does everyone get to...' starts Sungjoo, tucked under his blanket on his side of the bed, facing Wenhan.

Wenhan glances over. 'Get to...?'

Sungjoo has no respect for space, never has, and Wenhan feels his body heat before the actual weight of him settle along Wenhan's side, his face too close and trying to burn a hole into Wenhan's skull with his stare.

Wenhan sighs, looks over. 'I'm tired,' he whines. Wants to sleep after a long day.

'Just. Let me do this and I'll turn off the lights,' promises Sungjoo, his expression open and sincere, heat in his eyes as he looks at Wenhan.

His hand feels almost scalding when it cups Wenhan's cheek, and then Sungjoo is here, here, and kissing him - his eyes closed and sparing Wenhan from the intense scrutiny.

It's slow, and Sungjoo doesn't do anything other than mouth at Wenhan's top lip, making heat prickle all through Wenhan's veins. He opens his mouth in a sigh, tilts his head, and suddenly, Sungjoo is closer, his mouth sliding better along Wenhan's. The kiss is Sungjoo right down to the last detail of Sungjoo's fingers lined up along Wenhan's jawline, cupping his face so gently as he sucks lazily on Wenhan's lip.

Wenhan shudders hard and pulls away, feeling close to being overheated under the covers. Sungjoo is staring back at him, grinning delightedly. 'You good?'

He thinks about it for a moment, then nods. 'Yeah, I'm good.'

'Great.' Sungjoo gets up turn off the lights, and then stumbles in the dark, tripping onto the bed and rolling onto Wenhan. Wenhan grabs him by the waist, holds him down, close.

-

(earth)

Every band has to have some quirks. Except. Wenhan doesn't want to call this a quirk. This is something quieter, closer, caught in the spaces of each day, when no one is looking except each other.

In the mornings, Yixuan is sturdy and solid. Lets Wenhan lean into him, murmurs soft words against Wenhan's forehead until Wenhan feels full of it. Later Seungyoun and Yibo will catch up to him. Seungyoun slipping between Wenhan's fingers each time, laughing, as he alternates between sweet kisses and gross, wet ones, so that Wenhan never knows what to expect and is found laughing exasperatedly after each one. Yibo will take his height and drape it along Wenhan's shoulders like a dare - see if Wenhan can support him with all his sharp, young bones and joints digging into Wenhan, his eyes and mouth sharp to shoo the others away as he takes his fill of Wenhan's warmth. And Wenhan holds him up, doesn't mind the momentary discomfort, if only to coo to himself when he feels Yibo's smile against his throat, thankful and hidden. At night, if Sungjoo isn't immediately out like a light, he'll pull Wenhan right where it's the warmest - against himself - and nip at Wenhan's mouth until he feels Wenhan's teeth pressing up against him in a grin.

There comes the day when they're rushed from the get-go - when hotel rooms don't lend for stolen kisses, when schedules don't let Wenhan lean back into someone's body, when trips to and from a building or the airport or stage have Wenhan harried, rushed, the seams of his being coming loose and he wants, so desperately, to tie himself back together soon.

He doesn't realize the day is over until they're at their hotel, and Sungjoo has his arm in one hand, keycard in the other, as the door swings open and Wenhan sees his bed, all made-up and ready for him.

There is a muffled shuffling behind him, but Wenhan doesn't register it until he's being dragged onto the bed by Sungjoo, and Seungyoun is pushing at his back, piling on top of him. They all come tumbling down onto the bed, until Wenhan doesn't know if the mouth pressed against his nape is Yixuan or Yibo, and the weight along his waist could be Sungjoo, could be Seungyoun. He is muffled, pressed down, into the mattress underneath - and feels touches skate along his skin. Up his throat, ghosting along the hem of his shirt, skirting over his sides, tracing lines up his arms until Wenhan laces his fingers with whoever it is.

'Need to get ready for bed,' says Sungjoo at some point, voice piercing through the warm haze Wenhan is caught between, letting them all press him down and lay soft kisses along his collarbone.

'You just want to keep him for yourself,' accuses Seungyoun, his words vibrating along Wenhan from his shoulder down his spine.

'Then ge should get ready first,' says Yibo, mouth curled up at the corner, before his attention back on Wenhan and his expression goes soft, leans down to peck his cheek.

'Xuan-ge,' whines Sungjoo.

Yixuan laughs softly to himself, pressed along Wenhan's back, palm steady along Wenhan's stomach, so Wenhan laces their fingers together. 'You all know I'm the slowest, so I should go last.'

Wenhan clears his throat, breath stuttering, before he's looking around himself, 'can you... can you all stay?' He has reasons, excuses, piled up, ready to cover up his embarrassment, his neediness - drowning happily in their attention and warmth until he feels himself be pulled back together, solidify into a person.

He doesn't need to say anything. Seungyoun leans down, laughing against Wenhan's mouth, 'of course.'

Afterwards, when they've eventually all pushed off to get ready for bed in their respective rooms, Wenhan sits on his bed and watches Sungjoo putter around their room, fishing out a hoodie from his suitcase to put on.

'Why? Why do you do that?'

Sungjoo stares at him for a moment. 'Because I'm cold?'

'No, that's not what I meant.' Wenhan shakes his head; he doesn't even have the words for describing for what it is. That it's more than a touch, a kiss. That it's like... like...

'It's like a reminder,' says Sungjoo. He sits on his bed across from Wenhan, watching him. 'That we're here and we love you.'

Wenhan makes a small noise. 'I already know that - you don't have to...'

'We want to,' corrects Sungjoo. 'Anyway, don't even deny you don't like it.'

'I more than just like it,' says Wenhan, slightly annoyed that Sungjoo can't see how much it means to him. To have that attention and affection wrapping him up, bringing him back together, reminding him where he is, who he's with.

'Good,' says Sungjoo, smile on his mouth. 'You know how easily we'd fall apart if you weren't happy?'

'Don't say that. No one's falling apart,' says Wenhan immediately. Doesn't even want to consider the possibility.

'Cause you're here.'

Wenhan stares at him for a long moment, then his eyes burn, and it's unfair, because he doesn't cry, not over something like this. Not in front of other people. Not like this. He looks away, fingers digging into the sheets beside his hip. 'Thank you.'

'Don't have to say it,' says Sungjoo as he crawls under his own covers, reaching over to turn off the lamp light beside the bed. 'We know that already.'

In the dark, Wenhan gets up and crosses the space between the two beds. He lifts the covers and slips in beside Sungjoo. It feels only a few minutes pass before Wenhan is asleep - warm, adored, solid.