Chapter Text
November 2016
First time it happens, it's an accident.
It's late, and the apartment is dark. Yongguk is on the couch, living room lit up by the TV's harsh light. He's turned the volume down so the voices are nothing more than a low mumble, easy to tune out. His eyes are on the screen, but he barely knows what he's watching. Some drama—romance, probably.
He's avoiding watching the news as much as possible, because it always lights the fire within him. Makes his fingers itch to reach for pen and paper to scribble down angry words. Words he can hear his own voice and five others sing perfectly in his mind. He's not supposed to do that; he's not supposed to work.
Yongguk struggled for a long time to separate himself from that term, to understand they're not one and the same. He's still learning how to look out the window without constantly searching for inspiration. How to take a shower without losing himself in stressful thoughts. How to call it a day and simply go to sleep.
The days come and go, some good, some bad. Today has been good; Yongnam came over in the afternoon and they went out for lunch. His brother is another version of himself, confident and bright. Yongguk finds himself trying to mirror him sometimes, trying to figure out what the secret is. But they're not the same person, despite how often twins are mistaken to be. Despite being cast from the same mold. Nevertheless, spending time with his brother always helps. Yongnam doesn't ask about the album, the songwriting, or the sales. It's easier to take a break from everything when he's with family; the people who knew him before.
It's harder when he's alone. Like now, with his eyes following people moving across the screen without registering what's going on. Because all he thinks about is the fact that promotions for Skydive are over, and his members will leave for Japan in a few days to promote their new single.
And he'll just… stay here.
Himchan still texts him most days, offering vague updates on what's going on and how the members are doing. Yongguk knows the temporary leader doesn't want to involve him too much; they're not supposed to, after all. Since the official announcement from TS, everyone has been told to give him space. The members aren't even using the group chat anymore, which they always do to discuss schedules during promotion weeks. He texts with Junhong, too, knowing the maknae longs for his return.
Sometimes Yongguk thinks he really knows what it's like to be a father.
He hasn't seen them for over a month now, and it's the longest they've been apart since the hiatus. But even back then, they were still working on their case. They were still working as a team of six, despite not always being together physically. Yongguk never felt as disconnected as he does right now. But then, that's kind of the whole point. He needs to learn to disconnect from his work and responsibilities, to sometimes just be a man and not a producer, rapper, or leader. Learn what having free time means.
It's hard, and sometimes he wonders if it's all for nothing. If it'll even help at all, or if him leaving the members and fans for so many months will be nothing but wasted time in the end.
He'd shared that worry with his sister late one night, when it'd just been the two of them sitting on each side of her and Charu's table, with Tigger sleeping soundly in Yongguk's lap. Natasha had looked him straight in the eye and said:
"Last time, you locked yourself up in the studio and made a song about it. This time, you stepped out of the studio, and asked for a break. Asked for help. Do I need to tell you which one is the healthier option?"
She didn't. And he knows she's right. AM 4:44 is the perfect example of how consumed he is with his work, with creating music. It's all he knows. It's the only way he knows how to express himself. In hindsight, he feels like a fool for not seeing that song for what it was. What other people did see it as, even back then. A desperate cry for help.
Yongguk isn't writing a song this time. Not yet, at least.
The buzz from the doorbell makes him jerk out of his haze, heart jolting in his chest. It takes a moment before he realizes what the sound is, always alarmed by it. He lingers for a moment, always uneasy about having to answer the door. It's definitely one of the cons of living alone. Reluctantly, he pushes himself up off from the couch and trudges down the hall.
It's not past midnight, but it's still too late for most people to be paying surprise visits. Yongguk doesn't get a lot of visitors, but if he does they're rarely unexpected. He likes being alone, but doesn't mind company as long as he gets time to prepare himself for it. His family and most of his friends understand this—the exception being Dindin, which right now makes him Yongguk's prime suspect.
He presses the call button next to the buzzer.
"Yes?"
"Hyung," a familiar voice responds. "Ah… Hi."
Yongguk blinks in disbelief.
"Daehyun-ah?"
Hearing Daehyun's voice, even through the raspy speaker, makes something tug at Yongguk's gut. To say he's missed it would be weird, because he's been listening to his members' voices more than his own for the past five years—and maybe Daehyun's more than the rest—but… well. Despite how he enjoys the peace and quiet from having his own place, he sometimes feels suffocated by it. Sometimes his own thoughts gets louder than any note Daehyun can sing, though nowhere near as beautiful. Sometimes he misses being constantly surrounded by his loud members who always pull him back to reality.
"Yeah, it's me. I— Can I come up?"
"Ah," Yongguk says dumbly, gradually processing the fact that one of his dongsaengs is downstairs. "Yes. Sure. Come in."
He buzzes the door open.
The next second he looks down at himself and the clothes he's wearing—loose sweatpants and one of the big t-shirts he never gets to wear on stage. His hair is a mess, having been free of products for several weeks now. He's not sure when he last showered—this morning or yesterday. And while Daehyun has seen him a lot worse, he can't help but feel a sudden urge to show some kind of progress on himself. Wishes that what he can't see for himself in the mirror, Daehyun will be able to see the moment he walks through the door.
He hears footsteps approaching from the other side, but the knock on his door somehow still makes him jump. Yongguk unlocks it with a click and pulls it ajar to reveal a wide-eyed Daehyun. The white light from the hallway makes his skin look too pale, his cheeks having gone slightly pink from the cold. He's wearing his blue jacket, the one his mom got him last winter. His hair is still the same dark blond as when Skydive got its first and only win on The Show.
"Hi, hyung," he says again, offering an uncertain smile. "I'm— I hope you weren't sleeping."
"I wasn't," Yongguk assures him, but can't help but frown. "What— What are you doing here, Daehyun-ah? Is something wrong?"
"No, no, no." Daehyun shakes his head hurriedly. "Nothing's wrong. This is not an… emergency, or whatever. I—" He drops his gaze to somewhere down by Yongguk's feet. "I'm sorry, hyung. I probably shouldn't—"
He cuts himself off, looking lost and unsure. Small.
Yongguk only stays motionless for a moment before stepping to the side and pushing the door wide open.
"Come inside."
Daehyun blinks, head snapping back up before he hurries to comply and slip past Yongguk into the apartment. Their arms brush.
There's a small light in the ceiling above their heads, providing just about enough light for Yongguk to see Daehyun's face properly when he turns back around after locking the door again. He rarely bothers to turn on lights when he's alone—saving energy and all that. He knows his way around the place anyway, though Natasha keeps saying it's bad for his eyes. Yongguk is just contemplating whether he should reach for the light switch when the younger speaks.
"Are you drinking?"
Yongguk blinks, baffled by the blunt question.
"No?"
"Sorry," Daehyun mumbles, a deeper blush creeping onto his cheeks as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "I didn't mean to sound… accusing, or whatever. Shit. I'm just—" He lets out a heavy sigh, but the tension in his body remains.
Yongguk can tell he's upset—recognizes the body language like he would with any of his members. There's a tremor in Daehyun's voice, as if he's fighting back tears, and that realization makes something sharp tug at Yongguk's heartstrings. He's worried, but mostly confused, because he's not the hyung his dongsaengs usually go to for comfort. That's Himchan's job. Everyone loves Himchan, and Himchan loves taking care of people.
"I want to drink," Daehyun blurts out. "Fuck, I want to just drown myself in alcohol, like I used to do. And I haven't felt like this in a long time, but I'm weak right now, and if you're drinking then I won't be able not to, so I just—"
"Hey, hey," Yongguk interrupts his rambling, stepping up to put both hands on Daehyun's shoulders. Grounding him. The younger lets out a long, shaky breath, shoulders instantly sagging beneath Yongguk's touch. "It's okay. I'm not drinking. I'm… not allowed to, because of therapy."
"Oh," Daehyun breathes out, nodding slowly. "Right. Good. Thanks."
Then he falls silent, eyes lowered as he worries his bottom lip.
Yongguk's heart aches, because he remembers how bad it'd been toward the end of last year, when still preparing for their Matrix comeback. They all knew it was stress that made Daehyun turn to the bottle night after night, the pressure of coming back to the scene after an ugly lawsuit. His voice would crack during recordings; sometimes due to it being overworked, sometimes simply because Daehyun got too emotional. The drinking had been his way to cope, to push through, and Yongguk hadn't had the heart to scold him about it. None of them did.
"What's going on, Daehyun-ah?" He asks lowly.
Because Daehyun has expressed how much he regrets that time, and even stopped drinking altogether since then. He'd apologized to the members both on and off camera. He'd wanted to do better—to be better—and it scares Yongguk to think something must've happened to make Daehyun want to turn to alcohol again. He suddenly feels guilty for not being around to see the signs, and wonders if Himchan has.
Daehyun opens his mouth, but shuts it immediately again. Yongguk patiently waits him out.
"I'm sorry, hyung," he mumbles finally, looking guilty as he looks back up. "I know I shouldn't be here. You're— I know we're supposed to leave you alone. But I—" He takes a new breath, his lips quivering on the exhale. The thickness returns to his voice. "I didn't know what else to do."
Yongguk hesitates. There's an uneasiness tugging at him, because he's not sure how to deal with this.
Their group is close—closer than most—but Daehyun is undoubtedly the member Yongguk spends the least time with alone. Some still call them the awkward ones, though Yongguk's not sure that's the word he'd use. He's always awkward on camera—doesn't matter who he's with. The reason his and Daehyun's relationship seems the most strained is simply because they're so different.
Yongguk is quiet where Daehyun is loud. Yongguk prefers to be alone while Daehyun likes to surround himself with people. Yongguk hides his feelings deep inside, scared of getting hurt, while Daehyun wears his heart on his sleeve. Yongguk is black and white, and Daehyun is every color of the rainbow. And if there's a camera, Daehyun heads straight for it while Yongguk runs in the opposite direction.
But apart from the uneasiness there's also a warm protectiveness spreading from his chest, at the fact that Daehyun sought him out rather than Himchan. Rather than anyone. Daehyun looks like a gust of wind could tip him over, and if he really came here instead of the closest liquor store, there's no way Yongguk could turn him away. He's supposed to be the pillar of this group, after all. For them to lean on when things get bad.
( And there's been a lot of bad. )
So he nods.
"Take off your jacket," he says, letting his hands fall from the younger's shoulders.
It's an invitation to stay, and Daehyun's eyes widen in surprise before he hurries to comply.
The members have only been to his apartment a handful of times, and Yongguk notices Daehyun's gaze wandering along the walls as they enter the living room together. The TV is still on, flashing its white light over the couch where Yongguk returns to his previous spot. Daehyun only hesitates for a second or two before sitting down next to him.
He starts to fidget immediately, and Yongguk doesn't even bother pretending to watch the TV. He sits halfway turned toward Daehyun, one elbow propped up against the back of the couch. He won't pressure Daehyun to start talking, but they both know that's why he's here.
"I'm sorry," Daehyun mumbles after a moment, gaze flickering between his own fumbling hands and his hyung's face.
"Yah, stop apologizing," Yongguk tells him gently. "You're not… disturbing me, if that's what you're worried about. I never forbid visits."
Daehyun shifts where he's sitting.
"I thought we weren't supposed to," he admits.
Yongguk shakes his head, brushing it off.
"Tell me what's wrong, Hyunnie."
Daehyun swallows visibly, avoiding Yongguk's gaze completely for a moment.
"I hate this," he says eventually, slowly glancing back up. "That you're gone. That we're not—" He stops to sigh. "This was your album, hyung, and you were so proud of it. You were so excited for its release." Yongguk opens his mouth, to give whatever comfort he can come up with, but Daehyun rushes to continue. "I know! I know, and I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to feel like this."
"No one is supposed to feel anything," Yongguk says calmly. "That's not how feelings work."
"But I know I shouldn't," Daehyun insists. His voice rises in volume as he keeps talking, like it always does when he's upset. "You need this break. God, you deserve it. After everything— I know I'm being childish, but I'm just so used to you always being there. You're— You really are the heart of this group, hyung. It all feels wrong without you there."
He pauses, swallowing visibly. Yongguk wishes the sadness in his eyes wasn't so familiar, but it is.
It's true what Daehyun says, about Noir. Yongguk is proud of a lot of things they've done over the years, but this album is special. He remembers thinking they might not get to do a second full album at all, after coming back. But he'd worked his ass off to make it happen—had pushed himself to the limit, and beyond. Some of the songs were ones he'd wanted to make for years, made from words gathering dust in his old notebooks.
But perhaps his own love for this album is what finally broke him. He's always been worried before any new release, about what the fans would think of new songs, but Noir was a whole other level. Yongguk has always had a hard time distancing himself from the music he creates. Someone dissing their songs always feels like a punch to his own gut, just like compliments feels like personal flatter. The last few weeks before Noir's release he could barely eat, too worked up by what everyone would think of the album—of him. Panic attacks had happened almost daily, and it was the one happening in the middle of dance practice that became the last drop.
"And I'm not… saying this to make you come back sooner," Daehyun adds after a moment. "I'll— I'll be okay, after this. I just— I needed to see you." He lets out a heavy breath, and this time his whole body slumps with it. "I missed you," he mumbles. "It's… why I'm here."
Yongguk isn't surprised by the confession, but still feels alarmed by it. He's never been good at talking about his feelings—or talking, period. It was the very first obstacle he had to overcome when starting the meetings with his therapist. Daehyun has always been good at it; always seems so confident in what he feels. Yongguk never is. He's always been socially awkward, better at reading books and newspapers than people.
But he can read his members, just like they can read him. They know each other too well by now. And he recognizes Daehyun's fidgeting for what it is: longing for physical contact. Because he knows how Daehyun works; knows he uses touches almost as much as words when expressing himself. He knows the younger is holding himself back now, as he so often does when it's just the two of them. Knows that Daehyun would never sit this far apart on a couch if Yongguk was anyone else. Knows that if it was any of the maknaes, Daehyun would be halfway into their laps by now. And if it were Himchan or Youngjae, he'd be fumbling with their hands instead of his own.
He feels guilty whenever he thinks about it; how Daehyun probably wishes his leader could be as affectionate as the other members. Hell, they all must wish that. Himchan openly complains about it, and just takes what he wants without asking. It should be awkward but somehow it isn't. Yongguk finds it comfortable, not having to be the one who initiates it. Can't be rejected, that way. But with the younger four, he kinda has to be. They respect him too much, well aware of how frugal he is when it comes to skinship.
Yongguk looks at his dongsaeng now, where he's curling into himself on the couch, and is suddenly overcome with emotion. Because Daehyun came here because he missed him. Because the leader's absence upset him so much he wanted to numb himself with alcohol again. Because right now he's restraining himself from reaching out, like Yongguk knows he wants to do. Knows he's probably wanted it since the moment he entered the apartment.
"Come here," Yongguk murmurs lowly, heart jolting at his own invitation, as he carefully opens his arms.
Daehyun doesn't miss a beat, just ducks his head down as he practically dives into his hyung's embrace. Yongguk lets out a small grunt as they collide, arms slowly wrapping around the younger's body. He's so much smaller than Junhong, limbs not as long or bony. He rests his head on Yongguk's shoulder, face hidden in the crook of the leader's neck. Yongguk can feel the heat of his breath against his collarbone.
"Thank you," Daehyun whispers.
Yongguk only hums in response, not sure what else to say.
He tilts his head slightly to the side, resting his jaw on the top of Daehyun's head. His hair tickles his nose, as well as Daehyun's familiar scent. Part of it is from the shampoo Himchan so often steals, but the rest is simply him. It's strange, Yongguk thinks, how another man's scent can feel so comforting. So at home.
Yongguk's gaze is back on the TV, but he's not paying attention. His focus remains with Daehyun, and the way his ragged breathing slowly evens out as his body gradually gets heavier. For a long moment neither of them say anything, and the low mumble from the TV is only accompanied by the distant sounds of traffic from the busy streets below. It's snowing again.
"I'm sorry, hyung," Daehyun finally says, like a broken record.
"Stop," Yongguk whispers back, his voice barely more than a deep vibration moving up his throat.
He can feel Daehyun swallow. Yongguk shifts the position of his arm, and he can feel Daehyun tense before he settles again. It makes his heart ache, realizing just how fragile Daehyun is right now. How he's still apologizing and expects to be pushed away, even now.
"I missed you, too."
Yongguk hadn't said it right away, because he doesn't want to say things he doesn't mean. Doesn't want to just say what Daehyun needs to hear. Wanted to be sure it was true before he said it back, and now he knows. Can feel it with his entire body.
Daehyun doesn't reply, only swallows again, but Yongguk is fairly certain he doesn't imagine how his body relaxes even further. Silence reigns once more, but it feels better this time. Yongguk would feel awkward if someone else was in the room, but with just the two of them, it's comfortable.
"I saw your broadcast," he admits a moment later. "The… lying down broadcast."
Daehyun lets out something between a chuckle and a sniffle, shifting a little without lifting his head.
"Oh," he mumbles, sounding embarrassed. "W-what did you think?"
"That no one actually goes to bed with that much makeup on," Yongguk deadpans.
Daehyun laughs this time, even if it's quiet and short-lived. The familiar sound makes something twist inside Yongguk's gut, and he finds himself smiling into Daehyun's hair.
"Ah, well," Daehyun sighs. "It's not like I could've done it bare-faced."
Yongguk wants to push and ask 'why not?' but he knows the answer. Knows that's not how this industry works. Knows Daehyun won't believe it no matter how many times someone tells him that he doesn't need makeup to look beautiful. Even if it's true.
"I've tried it before," he says instead. "ASMR," he clarifies. "Didn't work."
"Oh," Daehyun breathes out.
Yongguk hums, wishing he'd had a more cheerful response.
"But thanks," he adds, "for thinking about me."
Daehyun hesitates once before speaking. Yongguk can feel the halt in his breath.
"I'm always thinking about you."
Yongguk doesn't know how to respond to that, doesn't know what it means.
He blinks, gaze still on the screen. His eyes are starting to sting with exhaustion, and he recognizes the feeling of tiredness slowly seeping into his body. Before, he never took it as his cue to go to bed, but rather to stay up for another three hours. It still makes him itch a little, going to bed so early now, but he understands why he should. Why you have to sacrifice some hours to lie in bed, even if you don't fall asleep right away.
"Do the others know you're here?" He asks then, reminded by the late hour.
"Yeah," Daehyun rasps. "Himchan-hyungie does."
Yongguk hums once again, picturing Daehyun standing with Himchan in the dorm's kitchen, saying that he's going over to Yongguk's place, and wonders what Himchan's reaction had been. The brief thought makes heat rise to his cheeks, though he's not entirely sure why.
Promotions may be over, but he knows they still have a few radio shows and fansigns to attend before leaving for Japan, and Yongguk feels the urge to remind Daehyun of his upcoming schedules. The leader part of him wants to order Daehyun to head back to the dorm to try get some sleep, but the rest of him doesn't want to send him away. And he can't tell whether it's for Daehyun's sake, or his own.
Daehyun's hair is soft against his cheek, and part of him wants to reach up and run his fingers through it, but he doesn't.
He thinks about it though—really thinks about it. About the fact that Daehyun might be the last person on earth to reject his touches. He thinks back on all the times he's seen Daehyun sit in Jongup's lap, hold Himchan's hand, or slide his arm around Youngjae's waist like it's the easiest thing in the world. He thinks about how happy and at ease Daehyun looks whenever he gets to be his clingy self with the people he cares about. He thinks about the hesitation on Daehyun's face whenever he's eyeing the empty chair next to Yongguk at an interview or fansign.
Yongguk thinks about all of that, and only hesitates for a moment longer before sliding one of his hands up Daehyun's spine to cup the back of his head, thumb brushing along the thin line of hair at the back of his neck. He feels Daehyun shudder against him, melting into his touch. Carefully, Yongguk threads his fingers through Daehyun's hair up to the top of his skull.
"I'm glad you came here," he rumbles, voice unusually deep, "instead of drinking."
Daehyun nods into his shoulder, sniffling quietly.
"Me too."
Yongguk wants to say something more, wants to comfort his dongsaeng even further, but doesn't know how. Perhaps he's doing enough. Perhaps Daehyun doesn't need his words as much as his touch tonight.
His eyelids are getting heavy, so he lets them fall closed. With his vision gone his remaining senses heighten, and the weight of Daehyun's body pushing him back against the couch is suddenly the only thing he can feel. The only thing that exists. He feels Daehyun's hot breath curl over his exposed collarbone, and a hesitant hand grasping at the fabric of his shirt.
It's the last thing he remembers.
Yongguk is familiar with power naps—drifting off for an hour or two just to keep himself going. That kind of sleep is easy to wake up from, his mind still alert when the alarm goes off. And despite how he's actively trying to fix his sleep schedule now when he's on break, he can still only sleep for short periods of time before waking up again. It's like his body has grown used to living that way, never shutting down properly. He's used to that kind of sleep.
He is not used to this.
Gradually, he grows aware of the distant sounds of Seoul outside his apartment, the busy traffic and people chatting in the streets below. It takes a while before it even occurs to him that he's there. That he's anywhere at all. That he's waking up. Slowly prying his eyelids open, Yongguk tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He expects to be met by the ceiling of his dark bedroom, but instead finds the living room invaded by daylight. So he fell asleep on the couch, then. It's not the first time. Yet he doesn't feel like he usually does after a quick nap. His body feels… heavy. Sated. Weighted down. He's just about to stretch his arms when realizing that he can't.
Yongguk frowns and looks down his body, going rigid upon finding Daehyun curled up against him. The boy appears to still be sleeping, using his hyung's chest as a pillow where he's tucked between Yongguk's side and his right arm. He's still got the older's shirt clutched in a fist resting on top of Yongguk's stomach, rising and falling in time with his breaths.
It's been years since Yongguk woke up with someone in his arms, and this is Daehyun. His dongsaeng, his lead vocalist, his… friend.
The word sounds wrong, even inside his own head, but Yongguk can't think of a better one. Can't think of a word to describes what he feels toward Daehyun right this moment, when staring down at the boy's face—what little he can see of it beneath the mop of hair—as he recalls what happened last night. He wonders if he was the first to fall asleep, and if so, how long Daehyun stayed awake before he followed. If he even planned on going back to the dorm at all, or chose to stay. Yongguk's heart does something funny at the thought.
He cranes his neck to glance at the clock on the wall, but can't tell the time from this angle. And he doesn't dare reaching for his phone on the coffee table, in case it'll wake Daehyun up. So he stays where he is, lying perfectly still, with his heart beating a little too fast against his ribcage. He finds it incredible that Daehyun can't feel it poking against his cheek.
Or maybe he does, because moments later the younger lets out a long sigh through his nose, shifting where he's secured against Yongguk's side. Yongguk holds his breath, not sure if he should pretend to still be sleeping or not. Not sure what Daehyun will do, once they're both awake. He knows Himchan and Jongup wake up together on a regular basis, and wonders how they do it. How they just casually untangle themselves before going on about their day like normal. Yongguk wishes he knew.
Daehyun makes a small noise somewhere at the back of his throat, and it makes something stir inside Yongguk's gut. The hand that's been holding onto Yongguk's shirt lets up its grip, hand twitching where it still rests on Yongguk's belly. Another slow intake of breath, before Daehyun goes perfectly still, and Yongguk knows he's awake.
"Fuck!" Daehyun exclaims, bolting upwards. Yongguk's heart skips a violent beat when Daehyun suddenly pushes away from him, out of his hold. He instantly lets go, letting Daehyun put as much distance between them as he wants to. As much as he can, without falling off the couch. "What time is it? I'm— I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"It's okay," Yongguk says, voice hoarse and—for once—thick with sleep. He hurries to sit up, as well. "I— It's okay."
But it isn't, because Daehyun isn't looking at him—is looking anywhere but. His gaze finds the clock on the wall, and stands up from the couch to be able to see it properly. There's red creeping onto his cheeks, and he's looking mighty embarrassed.
"I-I need to go," he stutters, clapping the pockets of his pants to locate his phone. Still actively avoiding Yongguk's eyes.
Yongguk swallows, heart dropping as a cold wave of worry instantly washes over him.
Because he never thought of what the consequences would be last night, when breaking whatever unwritten rule they'd set up for the two of them. He never considered how things would change once the night was over, and a new day began. He didn't stop to think about what it'd be like to look at Daehyun from now on, across the stage or in the practice room, while still remembering how he'd felt curled up against him. How he'd clutched at Yongguk's shirt even in his sleep, as if scared he'd let go.
"Of course," Yongguk drawls, gaze dropped to somewhere on the floor. "You should hurry back."
Daehyun remains motionless for a moment, and Yongguk waits for him to say something—anything—but then he's moving again. Then he's rushing out of the room, out of the apartment.
"See you, hyung," he mumbles, almost too quiet for Yongguk to hear, before he's gone.
B.A.P goes to Japan, promoting Fly High, and Yongguk stays behind.
He follows their progress, of course. Watches the live streams and music shows they appear on, creeps on social media way more than he should to see how well received the new songs are by their Japanese BABYz.
He does not hear from Daehyun.
There's a stirring in his gut every time Yongguk sees his face on screen. Every time he laughs his carefree, beautiful laugh while teasing the other members. It hurts, to see Daehyun be his usual bright self with them, when remembering how distant and unsettled he'd been before fleeing Yongguk's apartment only a few days prior.
It makes Yongguk's whole body flush hot with shame and regret, every time he thinks about it.
He doesn't sleep well, although that's nothing new. But it's different now. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, he feels the ghost of Daehyun's body against his, the small puffs of air against his collarbone. So he spends hours staring up at his ceiling, convincing himself that he's the only one who feels weird about it. That Daehyun barely thinks about it, too busy getting the same kind of affection from the other members. That the night they accidentally spent together, holding on to each other, is nothing special.