Archive of Our Own

A groups brings about a sense of brotherhood, one Ten has never experienced before. It’s laughter in quiet spaces, it’s a gentle hand on your back when you’re unsure of your own skill, it’s love that fills the spaces between your ribs. It’s an experience that Ten is thankful for, regardless of what they’re doing at any given moment.

There were certain things the group liked to do together, whether it be grab a meal or set aside a few hours every other Friday for movie night, but stargazing was Ten’s favorite of them all. Even now that it was cooler, he loved to tug on a sweatshirt and his worn-in tennis shoes, listening to the laughter of Hendery, Yangyang, and Lucas as they ran ahead of the others. Sicheng was content to talk quietly with Xiaojun, walking close enough that their arms brushed up against each other. 

It made Kun smile at them all fondly, truly a leader who cared for his group. Ten knows he should take in the moment, relish his time with his friends, but he can’t help but keep his focus on Kun. His sweatshirt sleeves are pushed up to his elbows and he runs his hands through his hair roughly as he walks, laughing as he sees Lucas egg on Hendery to race him to the clearing. 

It wasn’t anything impressive, really just a patch of grass nestled between some trees near the plaza of the dorms. It was in a place fans couldn’t access so they didn’t have to worry about bringing any security, just a night of relaxing and enjoying nature. By the time Kun and Ten make their way to the clearing, the rest of the group is there. Lucas is sprawled out against the grass and Hendery is leaning against his side, his hood pulled up over his ears and the pink fabric tickling Lucas’ face. Yangyang is scrolling through his phone, music sounding tinny as they play out of his phone speakers. Xiaojun and Sicheng are behind them, stretching out a blanket to sit on. Kun thanks Xiaojun as he offers him a bottle of water, taking a second for Ten and pressing it carefully into his hand.

“Thanks,” Ten says, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink. By the time he tilts his head back down, Kun is already sitting on the grass and pulling out his earphones from his pocket. Ten tilts his head at him curiously.

“What is it?” Kun asks, putting one earphone into his ear and combing his fingers through his bangs.

“I’d figure you’d want to sit on the blanket with Sicheng and Xiaojun.”

Kun glances over from his position on the grass, tucked some space away from the rest of the group. He looks back up at Ten with wide eyes, resting his phone in his lap. “I thought you and I could sit over here, actually. It’s a little quieter.”

Ten twists the cap on his water tightly, swallowing thickly. “Oh.” He sits down next to Kun, tugging the edges of his sleeves over his hands. He takes the earbud that Kun offers him.

“Is that okay?” Kun asks him, studying Ten’s face for any sign of discomfort. Ten shakes his head at this, giving Kun a gentle smile.

“Sometimes it’s nice to be somewhere quieter.”

Something in Ten’s mind urges him to tack on the ending “with you” to that sentence, but he promptly tells that part of his brain to shut the hell up and enjoy what he’s experiencing now. He puts in the earbud, pulling his dark hair over his ear and smiling at the song that’s playing. It’s something that’s been popular on the radio lately, and Ten knows that Kun is secretly embarrassed of his playlist consisting solely of Top 40 hits that he listens to far more than he’d like to admit. It’s endearing, the way that he’s sharing it with Ten now.

The two of them look up at the stars, taking in the beauty of the night sky for a while. Kun points up at the stars and traces out constellations with his fingers, explaining them loud enough so the rest of the group can hear him. Ten can’t help the smile that seems to stay plastered on his face, and he shifts his weight a little so he’s sitting closer to Kun, not quite touching but close enough that Ten can feel the body heat radiating off of Kun. 

The conversation with the group eventually dies off, everyone talking in hushed tones to the person next to them or sharing snacks, Xiaojun nodding off in the space next to Sicheng on the blanket. Kun is still looking up at the sky with a grin, leaning back on his hands and letting the breeze tickle his hair. Ten looks over at him, at his profile in the low light of the night. It knocks the breath out of his lungs and he has to blink several times to register the fact that Kun is speaking directly to him.

“What was that?” Ten asks. Kun laughs at this, scrunching up his nose and reaching up to comb his fingers through his hair.

“I was asking if you wanted to know a secret.”

“Oh,” Ten replies, eyes wide. “Sure.” Kun smiles and takes his phone from his lap, punching in his passcode and scrolling through his music for a moment. His finger hovers over something for a moment, and he glances at Ten before pressing it.

A quiet melody leaks into Ten’s ears, a soft piano piece occupying the space in his mind. It’s careful and little clumsy at first before catching it’s rhythm, becoming more emotional as the song progresses. It feels like a memory is being tugged to the forefront of Ten’s mind, and he looks over at Kun in surprise once it clicks.

“You composed this,” Ten breathes, twisting his body to look at Kun. “You’ve been playing this in the dorms at night.”

Kun is still looking up at the stars, perhaps to save face, but Ten can see the pink dusting the high points of his cheeks even in the dark. There’s a wide grin on his face. “I was hoping you’d recognize it.”

“Have the others heard this?” Ten asks, changing positions so he’s kneeling next to Kun. He brings one hand up to press the earbud into his ear, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t the song will stop, like he’ll lose the melody. Kun shakes his head at this, finally looking at Ten. The glimmer in his eyes is honest, if not a little hesitant.

“You’re the only one I’ve showed this to.”

Ten takes a breath at this, processing the information. In his ear, the melody plays on. “It’s beautiful.”

Kun smiles at this, earnestly this time. “Maybe I’ll play it for you sometime.”

Beneath the dark sky and twinkling constellations, Ten hopes the smile he gives Kun in return is just as comforting as the one directed at him. 

° ° °

Ten was thankful he had a hobby that the rest of the group didn’t. While he was grateful to spend time with them, sometimes Ten felt the familiar itch under his collar that urged him to grab his camera and tripod and slip into the dark night. He liked the energy that nighttime gave him, it was the kind of energy he wanted to capture in his photography. Mysterious but comforting.

Unfortunately for him, he wanted a subject this time around. He could only get so many shots of just himself, with the tripod angled down the sidewalk and the remote for his camera in his hands. He wanted a more organic subject, one that he couldn’t always predict. 

There’s beauty in the unpredictable, and on a night like this, Ten can’t help but want that for himself.

He peeks down the hallway of the dorms, but Hendery’s door is closed shut and he can hear Lucas’ boisterous laugh on the other side. He shakes his head with a smile, padding down to the common room and looking for the rest of the group. Ten sees Sicheng and Xiaojun from the shoulders up on the couch, the back of the furniture facing him. He’s sitting there with a movie on, but the volume is so low Ten can barely make out the noise. He furrows his brow at this, walking around the other side of the couch just as Sicheng locks eyes with him. He reaches up a single finger and makes a shushing motion, and in an instant Ten sees why.

Xiaojun is snuggled up to his side, breathing deep and even as a sign of sleep. His head is resting on Sicheng’s shoulder, dark hair obscuring his eyes. Yangyang is on his other side, hood pulled up around his ears and resting his head in Sicheng’s lap. He lets his hand rest on Yangyang’s back carefully, rubbing softly against the fabric. Ten looks at them with a fond smile, and he shifts the camera upward to snap a quick picture. The shutter is quiet and it doesn’t seem to stir either man, so Ten gives Sicheng a thumbs-up before slinking away. 

All that’s left is a singular person, and Ten’s heart is in his throat as he walks down to his room. He knocks quietly and hears Kun’s soft voice after a moment.

“Come on in.”

Ten opens the door, carefully cradling the camera to his chest so he doesn’t drop it. He finds Kun on his bed, propped up with several pillows and thumbing through a large novel. His hands freeze on a page, glancing up at Ten with a smile.

“Hey,” Kun says. “Did you need something?”

Ten almost feels guilty for asking, for taking Kun away from his reading, but he brings the camera up to Kun carefully. “I was looking for a subject, actually.”

Kun seems to be surprised at this, blinking several times at the words before tilting his head ever so slightly. “You want to take pictures of me?”

“Yeah,” Ten replies sheepishly, suddenly feeling like he can’t look Kun in the eye. His gaze travels downward to the camera, and he fiddles with the focus ring. He looks up after a moment when he hears shuffling, and Ten is met by the sight of Kun pushing his hair back off his forehead and slipping a baseball cap on.

“Okay,” Kun says simply, tweaking the hat by the lid. The action makes the cream-colored hat tilt slightly to the right. “Let’s go take some pictures.” 

Ten smiles to hide his nerves, but a deeper part of his mind is grateful that Kun agreed to this at such a late notice. He walks out of the room and down the hall, with Kun trailing behind him. He picks up the tripod leaning against the wall next to the door, and Kun jogs a little to reach the front door first. He opens it and ushers Ten outside, closing it carefully behind him. He pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up, exposing his forearms and looking at Ten.

“Where did you want to go?” he asks, and Ten has to think for a moment before responding.

“I want somewhere open with streetlights, lots of room to move around,” he says, and Kun’s eyes light up.

“What about the parking lot down the block?” Kun asks, and Ten thinks this over. He pictures the trees lining the space and the fact that nobody uses the area at night. Ten nods at the suggestion.

“Perfect.”

The walk there is mostly uneventful, just idle talk between the two of them. Kun insists he should carry the tripod, and when Ten hands it over Kun cradles it so delicately it makes Ten laugh. Their laughter and their shoes echoing off the pavement are the only sounds in the night, and after a few minutes of walking they arrive at their destination. Ten gestures for Kun to lean against one of the streetlights in the center of the lot, and he sets up the tripod. He takes a few test shots, adjusting the various settings on the camera as he does.

“Can you tilt your head up and to the side a little?” Ten asks. Kun does as he’s told, and it makes Ten freeze for a moment. The warm glow reflects off his features, catching on his sharp jaw and cheekbones. It looks like Kun is glowing from the inside out, a dramatic contrast from how the cap is casting shadows across his eyes. Ten takes a shaky breath and snaps several shots, not trusting his hands enough to twist the focus ring too much.

Kun is a natural at this, sometimes shifting into poses that Ten could never dream of being able to describe. It’s as if he knows what Ten is looking for even without asking him, like he crawled into his mind and accessed his memories.

And then Kun shifts ever so slightly, looking directly at the camera. His eyes catch just enough light to glint, the tendons in his neck angled just enough to flex, and Ten has to do everything in his power to focus on getting the shot and not run into the night like some prey.

He takes several shots, trying not to focus on how Kun looks even more intense on the small screen of his camera, and then he steps back from the tripod.

“Thank you,” Ten says, voice a little louder so Kun can hear him from this distance. Kun blinks and licks his lips, still eyeing Ten intensely.

“You should come over here,” Kun replies, before adding “make sure the the lighting is what you want.”

Ten wipes his hands on his jeans, trying to hide the fact that he’s sweating. “Good idea.” He puts the small remote in his jeans pocket and walks over, and by the time he’s at Kun’s side the latter is wearing a coy smile.

“I think my hair got in my eyes for the last few shots,” Kun mutters, eyes still trained on Ten. It’s true, a lock of his dark hair has slipped from under the cap and is hanging just over the freckle on his brow bone. With careful fingers, Ten lifts his hat up slightly and pushes the hair back into place. The action brings Ten closer to Kun, which gives him the chance to wrap his arms around Ten’s waist.

“What are you doing?” Ten whispers, not trusting his voice to be any louder lest it tremble. Kun flashes him a grin, dimples visible just for a moment.

“I thought you could be in this picture with me,” Kun replies. “You have that remote, right?”

Ten blinks, trying to process what’s happening when his inner voice is screaming. “Yeah.”

Kun smiles at this. “Well, what are you waiting for? Take a picture with me.”

Ten nods numbly, not moving for a moment. Kun’s grip around Ten’s waist loosens just enough for Ten to angle his body next to Kun’s, resting hip to hip against each other. Ten slips the remote from his pocket and Kun immediately returns his arms around Ten’s middle.

“Is this okay?” Kun asks, and Ten looks at him before nodding.

“Yeah,” Ten replies, voice soft. “This is okay.”

There’s beauty in the unpredictable, and on a night like this, Ten is thankful his hands don’t shake when he presses the button on the remote, capturing this moment between him and Kun.

° ° °

"You've been staring at him all day," Sicheng says, his deep voice reaching Ten's ears and making his cheeks tinted pink.

"Shut up," Ten replies, still not taking his eyes off of Kun as he gently reprimands Yangyang as he stands in the common room. It's nothing serious, his words being coated with laughter as Yangyang eggs Hendery on again, the two younger boys standing up and showing off another pointless dance they came up with in the practice room that afternoon. Sicheng arches a brow, following Ten's line of sight, and he groans.

"God can you just—" Sicheng begins, dropping the spoon he was using to stir his coffee into the sink and reaching up to rub his eyelids. "Can you stop staring at his ass for five seconds when I'm talking to you?"

"Will you be quiet?" Ten hisses, leaning further against the counter from his seat at the kitchen island. He glances over at Kun for a moment to ensure he didn't hear Sicheng before addressing his friend. "I'm not staring at anything."

Sicheng groans, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip. He mutters something under his breath that sounds strikingly similar to "every day is a new horror" before looking at Ten again, a bored look on his face. 

"Look, I don't care what you do, just don't do it in front of the others," Sicheng says, his voice flat. "And I'd prefer if you didn't do it around me, either."

"Noted," Ten says quietly, resting his chin on the cap of his water bottle, and as Sicheng leaves the room Ten's gaze turns back to Kun once again. He watches him as he nestles into a corner of the couch, grabbing a pen from the coffee table and twirling it between his fingers. His attention is drawn to his phone, no doubt looking over the lyrics he had shown Ten earlier that day. His face is a mask of concentration broken only when Hendery pushes Yangyang too far against the couch and he bumps into Kun's arm. It's then that a smile breaks out onto his face scrunching his nose slightly when he nudges Yangyang away with his elbow.

One simple smile is enough to make Ten's stomach flop with nerves, and he has to remind himself not to get carried away.

° ° °

Sometimes sharing a room with someone you’re close to can be a blessing, but Ten wonders if this is a curse.

It’s when he slides the keycard into the hotel door and opens it only to be ushered out by Hendery instantly that he wonders this, catching sight of Yangyang passed out on what’s supposed to be Ten’s bed.

“It’s just one night, can you switch with Yangyang?” Hendery asks, eyes wide and pleading. He glances back for a moment to his best friend, sprawled out and drooling on the duvet, before turning back to Ten. The older man sighs and runs his fingers through his bangs, pointing to his phone charger on the side table.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Ten replies, taking the charger when Hendery presses it into his hand. “Just one night.”

“Thank you,” Hendery says, his voice sounding relieved. “Sleep well.”

Ten smiles tightly at this, thinking about who’s waiting for him back in the room. “I’ll try.”

His feet feel heavy as they walk down the hall to the room. He shifts his phone and charger to one hand, knocking lightly with his knuckle on the door. He bounces on his heels, glancing down the hall as he hears shuffling on the other side of the door.

“One second,” a voice calls out, and Ten rolls his neck as he waits. He mentally reminds himself that he’s shared a room with Kun before and tonight would be no different, that Ten was perfectly capable of keeping his emotions in check. That plan goes entirely out the window when he’s faced with the sight of Kun, hair sticking up on one side and baggy shirt hanging off his collarbone, greeting him once the door swings open.

“Ah,” Ten says plainly, begging his heart to stay steady for one fucking minute.

“Ten! Hi,” Kun says, reaching up to scratch his head and pulling the door open wider. “Come on in.”

Ten does as he’s told, shuffling into the room and trying to keep his eyes on anything but Kun, instead taking note at how messy the room is. The sheets are pulled back on both beds, jackets and t-shirts strewn across the furniture, even Kun’s laptop is perched precariously on the corner of the desk.

“What the hell happened here?” Ten asks, trying to keep his voice light. Kun squeezes by him in the hallway, grabbing a shirt off the floor and tossing it onto one of the beds.

“Yangyang happened,” Kun sighs, a crease forming between his brow. “Kid’s never been able to keep his stuff all in one place, I guess.”

“This is all Yangyang?” Ten asks, skeptically, and he has to bite back a laugh at the way Kun’s ears tint red at the question.

“Well, most of it.”

Ten arches a brow, watching the mental gymnastics Kun goes through for about five seconds before facing Ten fully with a sheepish smile. “I was going to tidy up after I got the text from Hendery saying you’d be staying here, but I had to shower first.”

Ten takes this information in, the urge to tease Kun over his living arrangements melting away. Instead he focuses on the fact that the clean scent coming from Kun is a mixture of his body wash and shampoo. His hair is still a little damp, water droplets occasionally rolling down the side of his neck and dipping beneath the stretched collar of his shirt. It makes Ten want to follow it with his fingers, if only for a moment until—

Right. 

“That makes sense,” Ten replies, suddenly staring down at the desk in the corner of the room. He pushes Yangyang’s mess aside enough to put down his phone and charger, taking any excuse not to look at Kun. Ten figures he’s doing pretty well until he hears a soft thud of a body sinking into a mattress to his left. He looks up to see Kun sitting on the bed, his legs naturally falling open and his large hand gripping a towel, scrubbing it against his head roughly in effort to dry his hair. Ten cringes at this, making his way over to Kun without thinking.

“You’re going to damage your hair like that,” he says quietly, laying his hand over Kun’s from where it’s pressed against the fabric. Kun’s eyes go wide at this and his lips part just a little, and he easily lets Ten take the towel from him.

“You should show me, then,” Kun says. He’s looking up at Ten with dark eyes, expectantly, and Ten has to swallow down his nerves at Kun’s next words. “The right way.”

Ten takes a breath when Kun’s moves father back on the bed so Ten can kneel in the space between his legs. He does so carefully, moving close enough to Kun to pat his hair dry with gentle motions. Kun’s eyes flutter closed at the act, the repetition seeming to relax the muscles in his shoulders as he leans in to Ten’s touch. When Kun’s hair is mostly dry, Ten lets the towel drop to the floor but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Well,” he says, and his voice is soft. “There you go.”

Kun’s eyes open at this and Ten’s heart instantly clenches at the way he’s staring at him so intensely. Kun reaches out and grips Ten’s wrists delicately, their skin barely brushing against each other.

“Thank you,” Kun replies quietly, but he makes no effort to let Ten go. He does just the opposite, reaching up to rest Ten’s hands on either side of his neck. “It feels good when you touch me.”

Ten’s mind goes blank at this for just a moment, before his inner voice just starts screaming. How can he say shit like that? Ten thinks. Just... out of nowhere. Ten takes a shaky breath at this and decides that this is as good of a moment as any to let his inhibitions fall away.

“Okay,” he replies, letting his hands smooth against Kun’s neck. Kun smiles at this and drops his own hands into his lap, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. Ten feels braver when Kun isn’t looking at him, so he indulges the both of them. His fingers slide against his skin, into his dark hair. He smooths the locks against his nape, away from his face so he can truly look at him. 

Ten always knew Kun was handsome, but seeing him up close, so intimately , stirs something in his chest. He takes in Kun’s sharp jawline, dancing his fingers against the skin there. He traces Kun’s lips, reaching up to slide down the bridge of his nose. Ten’s thumbs carefully brush down Kun’s brows, resting carefully on the freckle just under his brow bone for a moment. Ten’s hands finally slide back down to their original position on either side of Kun’s neck, feeling the pulsepoint there. 

He takes comfort in knowing it isn’t only his own heart that’s racing. 

“You make me nervous,” Ten says, his voice steadier than he thought it would be. Kun opens his eyes at this, looking directly at Ten. His hands come up to grip his waist, anchoring Ten to the spot.

“Do I?” Kun asks, rubbing circles against Ten’s hip bones with his thumbs. He pulls Ten closer, until their lips are centimeters apart and Ten can feel Kun’s breath against his skin. “Does this make you nervous, too?”

Ten nods at this, but he reaches down to connect their lips. The kiss is delicate, careful, but there’s a heat that surges through Ten’s body and down to his fingertips as they thread through Kun’s hair.

° ° °

Ten

Yangyang can have my room, I’ll stay here for the rest of the trip

Hendery
You sure?

Ten glances over at the other side of the bed, at Kun still sleeping with his hair a mess and his arm stretching out towards Ten. The morning light filters against his face, dancing across his cheekbones.

Ten
I’m sure.

° ° °

There were a lot of things Ten put his trust in when it came to stylists. He wasn’t the best at putting together outfits or managing his hair, so he was perfectly content with handing these tasks over to the professionals. There was something about being pampered that made Ten’s toes curl in contentment, and he almost looked forward to events just so he could be doted on. One thing he didn’t trust them to handle, however, was his makeup.

It would explain why Ten finds himself at 10 in the morning in the middle of summer, sitting in the sink of his hotel room bathroom with an eyeshadow palette balanced in one hand and a brush in another.

He prays that Kun was still having a late breakfast with Hendery and Yangyang down the hall, buying him enough time to finish the task at hand and not look like a freak with his ass in the middle of a marble sink. Ten brushes the smokey brown shadow on his lids, using the pad of his ring finger to blend it out. Once he’s satisfied with the shadow, he closes the palette carefully and reaches a hand out, grabbing the dark eyeliner on the counter.

“Please don’t poke your own eye,” Ten mutters to himself as he adjusts his position, leaning closer to the mirror to get a good angle. He manages the first eye well, a thin black line enhancing his lash line. He’s moved onto his other eye when he hears the dreaded sound of the door to the suite opening.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ten chants, dropping the eyeliner and looking around wildly. He’s determining the best way to get down without slipping and falling when Kun glances through the partially-open door.

“Uh,” Kun deadpans, before his face breaks out into a grin. Ten looks at him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” Ten says, but it comes out more like a squeak. The sound tied in with the combination of Ten sitting in a sink in basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt sends Kun over the edge, and he knocks his shoulder into the door as he cackles. He ends up tumbling into the bathroom, having to slam one hand onto the counter to keep from falling.

“Shut up!” Ten groans, but Kun is still wheezing with laughter. His other hand is on his chest as he tries to subdue his utter glee, but he glances up at Ten again and bursts into another round of giggles. 

“Hold—Hold on,” Kun wheezes, slapping helplessly at his pockets until he finds what he’s looking for. He produces his phone and unlocks it, and Ten makes a sound that’s somewhere between a shout and a groan.

“You will not —” Ten says firmly, but Kun is already snapping photos of him. Kun stands up straighter to get a better shot, and all Ten can do is sit helplessly in the sink.

“I hate you,” Ten says firmly, and Kun flashes him a smile.

“Yeah?” he asks, stepping forward and moving the camera closer to Ten’s face. Ten’s arm comes up in a vain attempt to hide himself, but it’s useless. Kun snaps another picture before glancing at Ten. His voice is more serious when he speaks.

“Does this make you nervous, too?” 

Ten is transported to two nights ago, when the same question was directed at him. It’s a different setting but something about the tension between them feels eerily similar, but this time Ten isn’t going to sit and let this happen.

“No,” Ten says firmly. It makes Kun arch a brow at this.

“No?” Kun echoes, and Ten shifts his body so he’s sitting on the counter, his legs dangling off the edge. He reaches up and takes Kun’s phone from him, switching the screen off and placing it off to the side.

“I want to make you nervous, instead,” Ten whispers, and he grabs the front of Kun’s shirt and pulls him forward. He lets himself be tugged into the space between Ten’s legs, lets Ten run his hands through his hair and wrap his legs around his waist. Their kiss comes easy, lips slotting together like they were always meant to be.

This kiss feels steadier, less hesitant. Perhaps it’s because Ten is in control or perhaps something between them feels more solid, but this kiss has a power. If their last one is careful smoldering embers, this one is a flame reaching up to lick the space between their lips.

Ten doesn’t know how long they stay there, but his lips eventually drag down Kun’s jaw and neck, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. Kun’s large hands rest naturally on Ten’s waist, pulling him as close as he can manage. Eventually Ten halts his journey, pressing their foreheads together and looking into Kun’s eyes. It’s as if he can read Kun’s mind, feel the emotion rolling off him in waves.

Nobody is nervous, not in this moment.

° ° °

Photographs capture the most important moments in your life. The ones you can’t forget, sometimes the ones you don’t want to remember. Every photo tells a story, and it’s why Ten is so drawn to the art form. Ten doesn’t know a lot about love languages, but as he scrolls through his folder on his phone, he thinks this is his.

There’s probably close to a hundred by now, Ten thinks fondly as he scrolls. The shot of Kun’s bare back the first night they share a hotel room, a close-up shot of his hands as he writes a letter to his family, a photo of him in the middle of the rest of the group, being bombarded by frosting from a birthday cake and confetti littering his hair. There’s photos of him and Kun, as well—candid shots from Hendery sent to Ten’s phone after dinner at their local hot pot restaurant, selfies from pre-events where they’re dressed in designers that Ten can barely pronounce, a shot of their interlocked fingers. 

Ten frowns when he sees a certain type of photo is lacking, and he drops his phone in his lap and adjusts his white collared shirt. He tugs the seams against his shoulder until it lays properly, glancing for a moment at the window adjacent of his seat. Ten chuckles, wondering what manager decided shooting in Ukraine in the middle of February was a good idea. The snow falls steadily outside, the fading afternoon sun not able to penetrate the clouds. He uncrosses his legs and stands up from the chair, grabbing his phone and striding into the bathroom next to the Queen-sized bed. 

“I need you,” Ten says plainly, and Kun laughs at this. He’s fixing the part in his hair, his dark locks looking sleek when paired with the slim turtleneck draped across his body. He glances at Ten in the mirror, arching a single brow. Ten resists the urge to lean in and kiss the familiar freckle he loves so much.

“How do you figure?” Kun asks, and Ten stands so he’s next to him. He loops one arm around Kun’s waist, holding the phone up to the mirror. He tilts his head just slightly, until most of his lower face is obscured by his phone.

“I have almost no pictures of you kissing me,” Ten says, voice breathy. Kun chuckles at the obvious attempt Ten is making to seduce him, but he indulges him just the same. 

“Hmm,” Kun thinks, leaning in until his lips are inches from Ten’s. His voice is low, matching Ten’s teasing tone. “Should I give you what you want?”

Ten laughs at this, breaking his character for just a moment before regaining his composure. “Yes,” he replies, his heart racing ever so slightly. Kun smiles at this, corners of his lips turning upwards just slightly. He leans in and kisses the corner of Ten’s mouth, and Ten snaps the photo. Their faces are mostly obscured by the phone, but something about it is represents them so well that Ten can’t help but adore it.

Later, when Kun asks to see the photo, Ten rests his phone on the bedside table and kisses Kun deeply instead. He smiles into the kiss when out of the corner of his eye, he sees his phone light up. The photo glows warmly in it’s spot as his background, and Ten makes a mental note to change Kun’s to match his own.

Ten doesn’t know a lot about love languages, but he’s confident that this is his.