Chapter Text
✦ “The Way You Look at Me” — Chapter 1
The band room had become their unofficial after‑school hideout not because anyone told them to be there, but because it was the one place where the world felt quiet enough for them to breathe.
Eungyeol arrived first, guitar slung over his shoulder, hair still damp from the rain outside. He shook it out like a puppy, scattering droplets everywhere.
“You’re getting the piano wet,” Yi-Chan said from behind him.
Eungyeol turned, startled. “You got here early.”
Yi-Chan shrugged, pretending to be absorbed in wiping down the piano keys. “I wanted to practice.”
“You hate practicing alone.”
“I don’t hate it,” Yi-Chan said, but his voice softened. “I just… prefer when you’re here.”
Eungyeol’s smile was small but warm the kind that made Yi-Chan's chest tighten in a way he still wasn’t used to.
He set his guitar down and walked over, leaning his elbows on the piano. “So what are we practicing today? Another ballad? Something dramatic? Something that’ll make the girls cry?”
Yi-Chan rolled his eyes. “I’m not writing for them.”
“Oh?” Eungyeol teased. “Then who are you writing for?”
Yi-Chan didn’t answer. Instead, he shifted on the bench, leaving a space beside him. Eungyeol took the invitation immediately, sitting close enough that their knees brushed.
The contact was small, but it grounded them both.
Yi-Chan placed his hands on the keys. “It’s not finished,” he warned.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
“Play it anyway.”
Yi-Chan exhaled, then began.
The melody was gentle a little hesitant, a little hopeful like someone reaching out a hand and waiting to see if it would be taken. Eungyeol listened with his whole body, leaning in, eyes soft.
When the last note faded, he didn’t speak right away. He just let the silence settle between them, warm and full.
Then he said quietly, “It sounds like you.”
Yi-Chan’s ears turned pink. “What does that even mean?”
“It means…” Eungyeol nudged his shoulder, “you’re trying to say something without saying it.”
Yi-Chan stared at the keys. “Maybe I am.”
Eungyeol tilted his head, trying to catch his eyes. “You know you can say things to me, right? With words.”
“That’s harder.”
“I know.” Eungyeol’s voice softened. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
Yi-Chan finally looked at him really looked and the tension in his shoulders eased. “I know.”
Eungyeol reached out, brushing a raindrop from Yi-Chan's hair. The touch was light, almost shy, but it made Yi-Chan's breath hitch.
“You’re soaked,” Yi-Chan murmured.
“You like me like this.”
“I like you less when you drip on the piano.”
Eungyeol laughed, leaning closer. “You like me anyway.”
Yi-Chan didn’t deny it.
Instead, he took Eungyeol’s hand slow, deliberate and placed it on the piano beside his own.
“Play with me,” he said.
Eungyeol blinked. “You never let anyone play with you.”
“I’m letting you.”
The words were simple, but they meant everything.
So Eungyeol intertwined their fingers lightly, guiding the melody as Yi-Chan played. Their hands moved together, imperfect but in sync, like they were learning each other’s rhythm all over again.
Halfway through, Yi-Chan whispered, “This song… it’s for you.”
Eungyeol’s heart stuttered. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t kiss him not yet but he leaned his head on Eungyeol’s shoulder, letting the music fill the space where words still felt too heavy.
And Eungyeol played on, steady and sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment without even knowing it