Work Text:
Everyone was gathered in the living room after a particularly grueling dance practice session. Iwol's bones ached. Despite all that leveling up, dance was still incredibly difficult, especially with Jeho's constant reprimands ringing in his ears.
He could still hear him, in fact. "Kim Iwol, you look like a clumsy wooden doll." That line had stuck. Because... well, it was true.
"So, who do you think will end up taking her hand in marriage?" Seongbin and Kiyeon sat huddled on the floor, seriously discussing Kingdom Cafeteria~Another. Evidently, Kiyeon had roped Seongbin into reading the fantasy romance comic too. Joowoo was dozing on the sofa, while Cheonghyeon tapped away on the shared laptop beside him, organizing references for a new track.
Kim Iwol lay curled up in a corner of the couch, scrolling through the comments under one of his recently posted self-produced videos with practiced efficiency. Someone was gushing about his "adorable nerdiness." Another was complaining that the video was too short. A debate had broken out over his biceps. And collarbones. The usual package.
"Iwol-hyung, do you have this morning's meeting notes?"
Iwol looked up at Cheonghyeon. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I asked Manager-nim to send them to my email. I should still be logged in, so you can check."
With that, he went back to his phone, his thumb pausing over a comment pointing out how his eyes had softened whenever he spoke about Choi. His jaw flexed, though he didn't know why. Ridiculous.
He kept scrolling, trying not to think about the comment. It had to be exaggerated anyway.
"Thanks, Iwol-hyung!"
Within a few clicks, Iwol's inbox lay open. As expected of his meticulous hyung, all the emails had been read and the spam cleared—well, except for two new emails.
"Hm? What's AO3?"
"Probably spam..." came the drowsy reply from the half-awake Joowoo.
Cheonghyeon hummed. "Yeah, probably... Look, it says: jewol4life posted—" He trailed off. "Well, that's a funny username. Did they misspell jewel?"
A pause.
And then he continued. "The Five Times Choi Jeho and Kim Iwol Almost Kissed and the One Time—"
His voice stopped abruptly as his brain caught up to his words.
Kiyeon choked mid-sentence.
Jeho faltered in the middle of a one-handed push-up.
Heat shot up Iwol's neck. His phone slipped from his hand, landing on his lap with a faint thud. It sounded way too loud to Iwol's ears.
He couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
When he finally managed to talk, his voice cracked embarrassingly. "It was for monitoring." He sounded mechanical, his tone thick with mortification.
Someone coughed.
Iwol didn't have the courage to check who. Cheonghyeon's lips quirked upward. He looked entertained. Incredibly so. This little brat...
Iwol hadn't lied. Not really. It had been for monitoring. At first, anyway.
Then he had found a surprisingly accurate character study of himself... and of Jeho. Someone had written a twenty-thousand-word story with accurate characterization, and dialogue that actually captured Jeho's way of speaking. Better than the mind-numbingly boring isekai webnovels he'd been reading.
Was it really his fault? He hadn't actively searched for them... mostly. The kissing had been accidental. Or so he tried to convince himself.
Joowoo eventually murmured something sleepily about the Sparklers having interesting hobbies.
The awkward atmosphere broke.
Kiyeon snorted.
They laughed it off.
But Iwol's eyes drifted toward the one person who didn't laugh. Almost as if on cue, Jeho looked over at him. Iwol's lips parted in a silent inhale before he immediately looked away, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He couldn't bring himself to meet Jeho's gaze, though he could feel it burning holes into him.
After a moment, Iwol stood. He mumbled some bullshit excuse about airing the laundry and escaped to the balcony. Any longer, and he might have combusted from humiliation. Regrettably, the fresh air did very little to soothe his tumultuous thoughts. His thoughts raced as he leaned against the railing. The moment replayed in excruciating detail.
He couldn't deny it; there had been some gems. One detailing a quiet, domestic moment. Another with him and Jeho taking care of the kids. It would have been rude not to leave kudos. Or comment. But he shouldn't have subscribed. Shouldn't even have created an account. Why had he? Guest kudos existed, didn't they? Why—
He swallowed. Deep down, he knew. He had tried to avoid thinking about it, but... his bookmarks didn't lie. Timestamped 2:14 a.m. the previous night. The fluffy ones were harmless. The domestic ones had lingered in the quiet mornings. But the ones marked—
Iwol coughed. He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. "It was research," his inner voice insisted. It sounded weak, even to his own ears.
But for some reason, the thing that bothered him most was Jeho's silence. Everyone else had laughed it off. Jeho hadn't. Someone laughed outside, the sound drifting up toward him. For one second, he felt like they were laughing at him. Perhaps they were. God knew he'd deserve it.
Iwol spent the next thirty minutes wallowing in self-pity and humiliation. When he finally stepped inside for dinner, his ears still held a faint tinge of crimson.
Dinner was normal. Almost unreasonably so. Had everyone really moved on that quickly? Was he the only one still awkward? Still stiff? Perhaps he should have been grateful. These kids... At least they weren't mocking him.
He noticed Cheonghyeon furrow his brows after biting into a chili. "Don't frown, Cheonghyeon. You'll get wrinkles. Here, have some water."
Iwol tried to pretend he'd moved on, resolutely ignoring the way his traitorous eyes kept darting toward Jeho.
Jeho... He was definitely thinking Iwol was stupid. Embarrassing. Maybe even creepy.
So Iwol did the only thing he could. He avoided Jeho like the plague.
After dinner, everyone helped put away the dishes. Iwol reached for a bowl at the same time as Jeho and almost immediately changed direction, heading for the sink instead. He didn't stay up late that night. Of course, he didn't sleep either—he couldn't— but he pretended to, if only to avoid any possible interaction with Jeho.
The next morning, he was up by three. Earlier than his usual 3:30. He quietly got to work, toasting bread and frying eggs for the kids.
A while later, he heard rustling behind him. He turned and immediately made eye contact with Jeho. Iwol cursed internally when his first thought was of a fanfic he'd read with this exact setting. He felt his cheeks reddening pathetically. It seemed to happen a lot these days.
"...Morning."
"...Morning."
It was painfully awkward. Thankfully, Jeho didn't try to make conversation. Having him sit silently at the table was almost just as bad, though. Eventually, the kids headed off to school. Only Iwol, Jeho, and Joowoo remained.
"...I'll head to practice."
"This soon?" Jeho didn't sound disgusted, or even angry, and yet, Iwol flinched.
"Yeah. Gotta practice." Iwol's voice came out as a mutter, as if he didn't believe his own excuse. "Dancing."
He didn't wait for a response before escaping.
A day passed, and then another. On the third day, Jeho and Iwol had a livestream together, and maybe for the first time ever, Iwol wished he could cancel.
The others weren't in the dorm during the livestream, and the awkwardness was palpable. Iwol knew he should break the tension. Should say something. Anything. He couldn't find the words. Surprisingly, it was the socially inept Choi Jeho who spoke first.
"Did I upset you?"
"No." The reply came too quickly, far too quickly. Like he'd rehearsed it beforehand.
Eventually, though, Iwol gave in. There were only twenty minutes left before the livestream. He owed the Sparklers a casual, non-awkward interaction. It was the least he could do for their beloved fans, right?
He swallowed. "I'm sorry."
"...Why?"
Iwol looked away, posture tensed with shame. "If I disgusted you."
Jeho frowned. "Disgusted?"
"...I am not disgusted, Kim Iwol."
Silence settled between them again. Then, in a voice that was equal parts sincere and confused, Jeho asked, "Have we almost kissed?"
Iwol choked.
Jeho waited patiently for an answer, a small furrow forming between his brows. Iwol couldn't even bring himself to tell him to stop frowning, like he usually did.
"I... don't think so."
They sat in silence for another minute, though it felt less tense now.
Jeho reached over to straighten Iwol's microphone, gently adjusting the clip on his shirt. The movement brought them close, far too close. Both of them froze, their faces only inches apart. Jeho had clearly not thought through how close he'd have to lean.
The only sounds in the quiet room was the low hum of the laptop fan and the pounding of Iwol's heart.
"...Does that count?" His voice was mere murmur.
Iwol's face reddened almost instantly. He could feel Jeho's breath fanning his skin. Jeho's breathing seemed to grow heavier for a brief second before he pulled away.
Iwol didn't answer. Instead, he cleared his throat. "We're live in a minute."Iwol managed, his eyes fixed resolutely on the camera lens perched on the computer. Jeho adjusted his posture, clearing his throat. "Ready?" "…Yeah."
Iwol was still flushed when the livestream began.
He later found out it had sparked a trending discussion throughout the Sparkler community.