burning flames or paradise

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at [Link]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Boys Planet (Korea TV), ZEROBASEONE | ZB1 (Korea Band)
Relationship: Kim Taerae (ZEROBASEONE)/Kum Junhyeon
Character: Kum Junhyeon, Kim Taerae (ZEROBASEONE)
Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Confessions, Canon
Compliant, or whatever that means in rpf lmao, junhyeon lacks faith in
himself and everyone tells him to get it together, also dog union is here
Language: English
Collections: Anonymous
Stats: Published: 2023-05-20 Words: 3,979 Chapters: 1/1

burning flames or paradise

by Anonymous

Summary

There’s no Taerae to talk his ears off to distract him anymore — they’re on
different teams and doing different things but sometimes they run into each
other in the hallways or bump into each other on the staircases and there are
moments where they exchange these loaded, apologetic looks and lingering
touches, and maybe it’s all just a figment of his imagination or—

Maybe Junhyeon is well aware of his own feelings.

The timing just isn’t right.

When they debut together, Junhyeon will tell him. If he says that to himself ten
times, it’ll turn out alright.

OR: Junhyeon has an affinity for 'Choose Your Own Adventure' books. Most of his choices
end up having to do with Taerae.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

Growing up, Junhyeon’s favorite types of books were always ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’. He
liked that he’d be in charge of the protagonist’s decisions, and if he ever made a mistake, he could
turn back the pages and try a different strategy. Sometimes, if he was really bored, he would even
read them from the end and try to make his way back to the beginning.
It wasn’t like Junhyeon was a bad child; he attended class the majority of the time, had decent
grades, and turned in all his assignments on time. It was the same with acting — just sitting still
and reading a book ‘properly’ was way too boring for him — so these books were a happy medium
for him. His parents were just glad that he was reading.

Soon enough, they stopped making those types of books, the genre falling sideways to the gaming
format, which Junhyeon definitely indulges in when he can, but he still holds the worn and well-
read books close to his heart.

So, whenever he’s at a crossroads, Junhyeon likes to think of his life as his own ‘Choose Your
Own Adventure’ game. Things turned out more fun that way.

Here on Boys Planet, it’s all simple. His end goal is to make it to the Top 9. He just needs to make
the right choices along the way. Easy enough, right?

“We’re roommates again,” Taerae says, neatly pushing his suitcase beneath the bottom bunk.

Everyone else is still packing away their things to move to their new arrangements for the K vs G
Group Battle, but Junhyeon packs lightly and Taerae has his own methods for packing, so they’re
the first ones to make it to their room. They roomed together for the short few days they had to
record the signal song back in December, both of them All Stars, and Junhyeon thinks Taerae is
cool. He can sing, play guitar, laughs at all his jokes, and he gets along with everyone. Junhyeon
respects that.

He's also very pretty.

Which is a thought Junhyeon keeps to himself.

Taerae chooses the top bunk — he says it’s because he’s never shared a room with someone before
so this might be his only opportunity to use a bunk bed — and Junhyeon chooses the top bunk
because it’s only normal to want to be able to goof around and whisper jokes with someone late at
night across bunk beds.

Okay. Maybe that’s not normal.

But before Junhyeon can even finish hiding the rest of his snacks beneath his clothes, Taerae
climbs onto his bunk, bounces around like he’s testing for the spring of the mattress — really, he
should just use his own bed — and then he sprawls across the covers like a cat.

“That’s my bed,” Junhyeon says indignantly, trying to sound upset, but the smile crawling across
his face says otherwise.

“I know,” Taerae says, sinking further into the mattress. His mattress. He flips onto his stomach,
hugging the pillow and staring down at Junhyeon stuffing the rest of his clothes in the small closet
that’s provided. He doesn’t even want to think about how he’s going to have to share that space
with someone else too. “After everyone’s done moving their things, we start practice. It’s starting
to feel…”

Junhyeon pauses. “Real?”

“Yeah. Real.”
There are a couple of options here.

A) Keep packing — there’s not going to be enough time later after practice to put all his things
away, and Jiwoong is in this room. He’s heard the stories about how meticulous he is.

B) What the hell? He deserves a break, too.

Junhyeon climbs up the ladder to his bunk, and Taerae moves aside to make space for him. There’s
barely any space on this twin-sized mattress, but he settles himself next to him, Taerae’s head
perched on Junhyeon’s arm now. Still, it’s natural, despite only meeting a few months ago.

“Well, it should,” Junhyeon says matter-of-factly, “we’re on this show to become idols. It’s all
real.”

Taerae stares up at Junhyeon, his gaze softening, and Junhyeon looks away and clears his throat.
There’s a weird fluttery feeling in his chest that runs all the way down his back, and he doesn’t
know why he’s so nervous, but Taerae doesn’t seem to notice — he just hums and nuzzles closer
into Junhyeon’s chest.

“Hmm,” Taerae says, and he doesn’t know how it’s possible for his voice to be so deep and full of
honey at the same time, and he’s partly jealous and partly in awe, “you’re right.”

Junhyeon closes his eyes.

He might be screwed.

All throughout Back Door practice, Taerae is like an endearing puppy who can’t let go. Literally.

Junhyeon knows he shouldn’t get too attached. From all the books he’s read, falling for the
competition is the fastest way to reach a bad ending.

He gets attached anyway.

Junhyeon ranks 14.

He’s on the moon.

And, really, the way Taerae’s hand feels against the small of his back when he whispers closely,
breath ghosting his cheek, “You worked hard,” has only just a little bit to do with it.

They’re choosing songs for the Dual Position Battle starting from the lowest rank, and as it
approaches his turn, Junhyeon feels nauseous. Tomboy is one of the first to fill, and if he gets
kicked out from his first choice, there aren’t many songs left to go to. He intends to avoid the Rap
and Dance section entirely.

“What are you going to pick?”

He doesn’t know when Taerae snuck next to him, messing up the number order, but he’s reaching
for his arm, looking at him expectantly.

“Tomboy,” he says immediately. Doesn’t even try to hide it. Which is kind of a dumb move, in
retrospect, because Taerae’s rank is higher than his, and it’s an individual competition at the end of
the day. “What about you, huh? Feeling like main rapper this time?”

Taerae shoves his shoulder, and yeah, he deserved that, but Taerae’s reaction is worth it. He barely
moved him anyway. Junhyeon swallows down a laugh, watching as the number of remaining
trainees dwindles.

“Man in Love,” Taerae says after a while. “It was between Man in Love or Not Spring, Love, or
Cherry Blossoms. But I think I fit Man in Love better, don’t I?”

“It suits you,” Junhyeon agrees, and then he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet. There
really aren’t that many vocal positions left. “I want to sing too,” he says quietly.

Back Door team was like a miracle to him; it helped him place so high and he got to perform on
stage on MCountdown for crying out loud. He wouldn’t change any of that for the world. It’s just
—

Dancing is fine, but he wants to become an idol to sing.

“We should be on a team together again,” Taerae says, almost like he’s reading his mind, and he
looks so earnest about it. “It’d be fun singing together, like in the dorms.”

Junhyeon grins at him, ready to tease him about something else, and then Star Master Minhyuk
announces that it’s his turn to pick.

He makes his way toward the Vocal and Rap wall, trying to block out the “ooh”’s and “ahh”’s
from the other trainees.

There’s still a spot open in Man in Love. Taerae has the higher rank, so he can kick any of the
lower ranks out, and they can be in it together. And Woojin is there too — they haven’t been on
stage together since the Star Level Test. He takes a quick glance at Taerae, who only smiles,
gesturing at him to choose.

It’d be nice. Really, it would.

But Junhyeon really likes Tomboy.

He thinks that choice might’ve been where things went wrong.

Junhyeon gets stuck with Ggang, turns opportunity into crisis or whatever the saying is, and
perseveres anyway.

He’s watched survival shows before — he’s practiced the media training part long before they
even moved into the dorms. He knows the unspoken rules, how to make an impact and all of that.
Boys Planet Kum Junhyeon is five years old and a happy pill, and he’s embraced that persona,
especially for this performance, but putting on a face all the time is so exhausting.

There’s no Taerae to talk his ears off to distract him anymore — they’re on different teams and
doing different things but sometimes they run into each other in the hallways or bump into each
other on the staircases and there are moments where they exchange these loaded, apologetic looks
and lingering touches, and maybe it’s all just a figment of his imagination or—

Maybe Junhyeon is well aware of his own feelings.

The timing just isn’t right.

When they debut together, Junhyeon will tell him. If he says that to himself ten times, it’ll turn out
alright.

“Still practicing?”

They meet by the water cooler, and Junhyeon chugs a full cup before immediately filling another
one. He didn’t know it was possible for his throat to even get this dry.

“I can’t get this stupid move right,” Taerae groans, running his hands through his hair. It’s slick
with sweat, and maybe Junhyeon would find it a bit gross if not for the way the movement exposes
his forehead, messy strands sticking out in just the right places. He bites the inside of his cheek.
“The Star Masters were on my ass today for my dancing. Maybe I really should’ve just stayed in
Say My Name.”

Junhyeon snorts. “Yeah, I don’t know if there’s something in the air or what, but they’ve been
ridiculously hard on us this time. They seriously don’t know how hard we’ve been working.”

“What about you? How’s En Garde?” Taerae settles himself onto the couch, and Junhyeon follows
suit, unceremoniously plopping himself down next to him. He lets out a loud sigh as he rolls his
head back against the cushions.

“I have, like, three lines. But at least I’m a vocal this time, so I should be too greedy?” He turns his
head so that he’s facing Taerae. “Is it a crime to want to sing?”

“It’s not. Besides, I like your voice,” Taerae says casually, and Junhyeon’s ears burn at the
compliment. “And I’m sure all the Star Creators are dying to hear it. A couple of lines are more
than enough.”

“Thanks,” he says, and he hates how shy he feels. So, he does what he does best — he keeps
talking, if only to keep Taerae around for longer. It’s sort of pathetic. The longer the show goes on,
the harder it is to find time to talk to him alone, and he only dreads what’ll happen when it ends.
“It’s fun, though. It’s my first time performing with Gunwook and Gyuvin so it’s different.”

“Different ‘cause they’re your age?” Taerae teases.

“No, I mean—yes,” he says quickly, and then grimaces, “but… no, I miss being on a team with
you, but that’s—”
“Different,” Taerae says again, meeting Junhyeon’s eyes in a way that makes his breathing falter.

“Yeah,” Junhyeon says, finally, and doesn’t look away this time, “different.”

They’re silent for a while after that, and soon enough, the only sounds filling the room are the
intermittent filter from the water cooler and the ticking of the broken clock the staff hasn’t
bothered fixing. He doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s probably way past a reasonable time to
sleep, but it’s not like anyone else is sleeping this early either, not with their stages so soon. He
thinks about his choices.

A) Go back to practice. There’s less than a week until their live performances, and Taerae wasn’t
the only one in trouble — En Garde got scolded harshly by the Star Masters this morning. They
still have so much more to improve.

B) He’ll do so much better after some rest. And maybe, he won’t even have to be alone for it.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Junhyeon announces to the room, even though Taerae is the only one
there with him.

Taerae waits for a beat before clapping his hands onto his lap and standing up. “Alright. I should
probably—”

“Stay,” Junhyeon says hoarsely, and when he reaches out to grasp onto Taerae’s arm, he’s
probably more surprised than Taerae is. He’s not really the clingy type.

He thinks he wasn’t much of anything until he met Taerae.

“They’re probably going to be looking for us,” Taerae says, but he sits back down anyway, closer
than last time, his thighs pressing against Junhyeon’s.

It’s not a ‘no’.

“Let them,” he says. “Come on, hyung. Just a few minutes.”

He knows there’s no real reason for Taerae to stay. And even though Junhyeon closes his eyes, he
feels Taerae still with him, and it’s almost reminiscent of another late night back when they started
to get close together — right in this very hallway. It’s different this time. There’s intention in it,
whether Junhyeon wants to admit it or not.

A soft “okay,” is the last thing Junhyeon hears before he falls asleep.

He ranks 14.

“Don’t forget about me,” Junhyeon says, and he laughs if only to stop himself from saying
something dumber, or worse — crying.

He should be cool about it. If anything, he’ll leave the show with a cool image. He’s not just the
loud, comedic relief anymore. He’ll just be the level-headed Kum Junhyeon.
“You too,” Taerae says, and that almost sends him over the edge entirely, because it’s stupid. How
could he ever forget Taerae?

But Taerae just smiles through shiny eyes, pulls Junhyeon closer into the frame of a go-pro that a
staff member handed Taerae — handed him because he ranked 6th and Junhyeon ranked 14th —
and he knows that Taerae waited just for him, he saw him out of the corner of his eyes while he
was comforting Gyuvin, and that should mean something, and Junhyeon—

He just tries. He’s trying.

He should’ve tried harder.

Junhyeon thinks it could be worse.

He’s back at Redstart, back with his close friends he started this whole journey with, and when
their CEO sits them down and tells them they’re going to have a fanmeeting and a photoshoot and
multiple interviews — that they’re really preparing the four of them for debut — he thinks things
are starting to work out for him.

Everyone’s been asking him how he feels about not debuting in Boys Planet when he was so close
to making the final lineup. At the end of the day, he’s doing just fine.

Except it still feels like something’s missing. An empty ache in his heart.

He’s too busy to think too hard about it though.

Taerae Taerae Kim Taerae: hey

Taerae Taerae Kim Taerae: gunwook gave me your kkt id

Taerae Taerae Kim Taerae: just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing

Taerae Taerae Kim Taerae:

Junhyeon reads the texts over and over and over and over until the words burn against the back of
his eyelids, and it’s all he sees when he goes to sleep.

He doesn’t respond because some things are easier ignored than acknowledged.
Finding time to grab lunch with Gunwook and Gyuvin is a lot harder than he wishes it was, but it’s
the reality of the situation. ZB1 has a tight debut schedule, and Redstart’s pushing for their
publicity more than ever. Junhyeon doesn’t remember the last full night of sleep he’s had since
November.

They make it work somehow — a strict thirty-minute lunch between schedules, and it’s in
Junhyeon’s company car on the outskirts of Seoul — but it’s better than nothing at all.

They’re catching each other up on their activities, and when Taerae’s name is mentioned,
Junhyeon doesn’t realize he’s making a face until Gyuvin points it out.

“What happened, by the way?” Gyuvin asks, mouth full of food. “Between you and Taerae
hyung?”

He chokes on his water, and by the time it takes for him to get it all out of his system, Gyuvin and
Gunwook are staring at him expectantly.

“What? Nothing happened,” Junhyeon says, and then clears his throat one last time for good
measure. “We just… I just—you know.”

But Gyuvin’s not good at reading a room, because he only stares at him blankly. “What do you
mean?”

“Nothing happened,” Junhyeon repeats, because really, nothing did. That’s sort of the point. “It—It
wasn’t going to work out anyway.” He sips at his water, slowly this time, avoiding eye contact, and
under his breath, he continues, “Well, maybe things would’ve been different if I debuted, but…”

Gunwook laughs. It’s even more annoying than Junhyeon could imagine.

“Junhyeon, I’m telling you in the nicest way possible—and I can say this because I’m the smartest
one here,” Gunwook says, “you are so stupid.”

He frowns. “What?”

“Every time Gyuvin or I bring you up, Taerae hyung’s always the first one listening. He thinks you
fell off the face of the earth, dude. I think most of his phone searches are of you.”

Someone’s phone starts ringing — and it’s either Gunwook’s or Gyuvin’s — but Junhyeon can
barely concentrate. Can barely breathe, even. He feels like his world just turned upside down.

“Look, I don’t know the whole story, but if you’re just ignoring him because you’re embarrassed
or whatever, then that’s messed up. It’s not easy for him either,” Gunwook says, in that wise school
president way of his. He pats Junhyeon hard on the shoulder, and then grabs onto Gyuvin’s arm,
waving his cellphone at him. “Our manager’s right outside. We have practice now, but just think
about it, okay?”

Junhyeon stares at his Kakaotalk profile, tracing the outline of his picture with his thumb. His
display name is still Taerae Taerae Kim Taerae and it makes his stomach do flips.
Junhyeon: hey

He’s been to the WakeOne building before. Usually, it’s during the day, and only to meet up with
the other trainees — like when Seunghwan wants to have a Ggang team reunion or when Woongki
and Haruto recruit him for TikTok challenges.

But now it’s the middle of the night, and Junhyeon’s wearing a hoodie, sweatpants, a hat, and a
facemask, and he feels like he’s here to take unsolicited photos or rob the building or something.
Really, when his manager finds out, he’s gonna kill him for taking a taxi here without permission.

“You’re here,” Taerae says when he meets him outside the back door. He’s in pajamas, the
ridiculous kind that reminds him of the dorms, like he haphazardly went through his closet and
threw on the first clothes he saw.

“Yeah,” Junhyeon says, and now he feels like kicking the ground or something lame like that, just
to give himself something to do, “that’s kind of what we agreed on.”

He takes a moment to look at Taerae — really look this time — and he’s surprised at how much
has changed. It’s barely been a few weeks since the show ended, but he looks older, somehow.
More handsome. If that’s even physically possible.

“Your face is puffy,” he says instead.

Taerae blinks, and then he says, flustered, “We just ate ramen.”

Junhyeon bites back a laugh at his reaction and resists the urge to mess with Taerae’s hair. He
shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s cute.”

Taerae pouts. “What did you want to talk about?”

Junhyeon takes in a sharp breath, and he sits down on the steps by the emergency exit. Taerae
follows suit, and he hates how hyperaware he is of everything now — of Taerae being next to him,
his hands reaching out and hesitating, when Taerae hasn’t hesitated since when they were first
starting to get to know each other.

“I’m doing okay,” Junhyeon says. “Life has been pretty crazy since the finale. I thought everything
would go back to how it was before, you know, being a trainee—”

Taerae’s hand rests gently on his knee, now, and it brings his sentence to a full halt.

“Junhyeon,” Taerae says, “what did you really want to talk about?”

He hesitates.

If this were a ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ game, here are his choices:

A) Turn around and leave this all behind.

It’s not too late. He can still brush it off, say that he’s just here to catch up, and walk away. This is
the safest route. His debut is secured, and there wouldn’t be any messy drama. Maybe it’d be
awkward between stages if their comebacks landed around the same time, and at the award shows,
he would have to act as nonchalant as possible. But he’s a child actor for Christ’s sake, and half a
year is nothing against the rest of his life. He’ll learn to get over it eventually.

B) Lay it all out in front.

This could lead anywhere. He could be rejected, and it would lead down the same path as option
A, only more embarrassing. Or they could work for a moment, but then not work, and it’ll be even
worse. Or… it could be fine.

Everything could fall into place.

He just needs to take the risk.

Junhyeon bites his tongue. His nervous tick.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Taerae furrows his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For—for leaving you in the dark. For being a coward. I like you, hyung,” Junhyeon says before he
can chicken out. “I like you and… I don’t know what all of this means for us.”

There’s a long silence after that — and Junhyeon can’t bring himself to look in Taerae’s direction
anymore, and his whole body deflates with disappointment. God, what was he expecting anyway?

But then there’s a touch on his cheek, and Taerae guides his face to look at him. His fingers thread
through a loose strand of hair in front of Junhyeon’s ear, and his touch is so delicate that it makes
Junhyeon shiver. “We don’t have to know what it means right now. We can just figure it out.”

Figure it out.

Taerae makes it sound so easy.

And then his words sink in, and Junhyeon has to do a double-take, eyes widening. “Wait—you
mean…?”

“I like you too,” Taerae says, “so let’s just take it step by step.”

A weight lifts off his shoulders, then, and Junhyeon feels lighter than ever.

“Okay,” he says, leaning into Taerae’s touch, like it’s easy. Because it really can be that easy. “Can
I kiss you then?”

Taerae nods, and it’s all that Junhyeon needs before he captures his lips with his. Their noses
bump, and Taerae’s glasses are in the way, and it’s awkward in the way that first kisses always are,
and there are more romantic places for this to be happening besides the back entrance of the
WakeOne building, but it doesn’t make it any less dizzying. It suits them.

He’s not thinking about the cameras that could be capturing this moment. He’s not thinking about
the other eight members in the building, or that his manager is probably searching all of Seoul for
him.

He’s not thinking about the fact that Taerae is debuting, the fact that he isn’t — not with him. He’s
 not thinking about the consequences or the repercussions or what’s to come.

Right now, he’s only thinking about the two of them, just Taerae and Junhyeon. Like it should’ve
been from the start.

Once they break apart, Junhyeon leans his forehead against his, and he can’t help himself from
laughing, feels the happiness practically bursting from his chest. Taerae scrunches up his nose and
pushes his shoulder, but Junhyeon knows he misses the warmth because Taerae pulls him closer
again, leaning his head on his shoulder.

“I’m not joking,” Junhyeon adds as an afterthought.

Taerae stares at him for a second, and then laughs. “I know.”

And when Junhyeon kisses him again, it’s for real this time.

End Notes

i'm coping

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!