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“Junhoe-” Yunhyeong spoke, and the former avoided his eyes like his life depended on it. He didn’t want to see the sadness, the pity they held. He raised his hand in a desperate attempt at getting him to stop, to say no, it’s alright, it’s really nothing, and that was all he could manage in the moment. For his eyes were tearing, the unsaid words burning against his throat - it was all he could do just to stand there and will himself not to implode.
His gaze went up to the ceiling as he turned his back on Yunhyeong, willing the tears to recede and for the emotion to dissolve from his throat. He let out a soundless gasp and shuddered a little. Failed to see the despair written on Yunhyeong’s listless figure. Perhaps it was for the better. He didn't want to taste salt on his lips yet another time.
“It’s nothing, hyung,” Junhoe said in a voice that didn’t seem like his own. This one was clear, steady, and he was surprised at the amount of control he sounded like he had. Gaining a little bit of courage, he turned to face the man in question. “I’m okay. I’m just letting you know. I’ll get over it, so don’t worry about it.”
His eyes met Yunhyeong’s for a long while. The former boy couldn’t hold it, blinking back the tears that once more betrayed the words that fell from his lips. The silence that followed was deathly still. Neither moved, afraid of breaking the fragility of whatever it was between them - or perhaps lack thereof.
“Don’t I get a say in all of this?” Yunhyeong voiced, soft and quiet, a tone all too familiar to Junhoe. It was the same tone he used on the younger members when they reached their limit. A careful, considerate tone meant to counsel, meant to protect. And Junhoe hated it all the more.
He blinked up at Yunhyeong and wondered if he could see the exhaustion in his eyes. Wondered if he could see the yearning he wanted to hide, but thought better of it, deciding that maybe Yunhyeong deserved to see the little bit of agony he was going through. He chuckled harshly and merely shrugged in response.
Yunhyeong sighed at his brusqueness and Junhoe didn’t have it in him to feel too bad about it.
Until he saw tears in the eyes of the man he loved. Junhoe drew a sharp breath.
“I-I’m sorry. It’s not you I’m mad at, I’m just,” Junhoe laughed again, a sad and borderline hysterical one. “I can’t talk right now. I- Sorry.”
With that he turned his back and shut his door quickly, thinking he’d fucked up enough.
That night, Junhoe cried himself to sleep.
And the next morning he woke up puffy-eyed to a variety of sandwiches outside his door. He kneeled down to read the note stuck on the tray, and decided that he might have to cry all over again.
Since you wouldn’t let me talk yesterday,
Eat up, dipshit.
I love you.
I love you with all my heart.
Whenever you're ready, I'm right here for you.