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Seonghwa didn’t know what was going on between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, he found it all extremely confusing. One day, they're metaphorically gouging each other's eyes out and the next they're all touchy-feely during interviews and shows. Hongjoong doesn't even like skinship anyway!

It had gone so far, even the managers had noticed – they frequently put Hongjoong and Wooyoung next to each other, behind the other or in the same team increasingly more often and it’s driving Seonghwa insane . Sure, some of it is fan-service or just plain coincidence but not all the time . 

Seonghwa usually wouldn’t care. It would just be petty if he did on every occasion. But when your best friend is playing you off even on your days off for someone else, you’d be getting mad too. 

That’s what hurt. 

He felt like he was being replaced.

Hongjoong never used to get back at a godly hour even before, but now Wooyoung wouldn’t either. They never came back at the exact same time, but it would take a fool to not put two and two together and realise the extent at which they’d be spending time together. 

When was the last time they’d even done a Matz live anyway? 

When was the last time they’d practised in the dance studio alone together?

When was the last time they’d had a full, decent conversation with each other?

So, Seonghwa had taken to the other members, seeking physical affection when he couldn’t voice his emotions, let alone why. Even Jongho, their cold, skinship-disliking maknae was warming up to him (things he had only done with Yeosang and perhaps Mingi in the past) and the whole dorm felt it too. It felt cold without the two loud members there… 

San had come to Seonghwa’s (you could barely call it shared anymore) room a few times over the past couple weeks, both of them seeking emotional and physical warmth. Thankfully, San seemed to be affected less than Seonghwa – he’d still be bright and perky in interviews and he hadn’t lost the mischievous part of his normal self that Wooyoung had given him. At least, that’s what an outsider would think. 

In reality, San was suffering just as much as Seonghwa. Some days when he’d barely seen the younger, he’d get snappy – yelling at just about anyone during practice for small and fixable mistakes… including Wooyoung. And of course, in return, Wooyoung would be just as snappy back, eventually causing someone to have to pull one away from the other.

They both needed that comfort, which is why Seonghwa was now soothing a crying San in his bed at god knows what hour of the early morning, the bottom bunk seethingly empty. 

“I’m– I’m so sorry hyung,” San chokes out between his sobs, “I don’t know– heht– why I lashed out like that– I–” 

“It’s okay, Sannie. I’m not mad, and I doubt Wooyoung is either… just let it all out, okay?” Seonghwa shushes him gently as he continues stroking his bleached blonde hair. “It’s alright, hyung’s here to help.”

San’s arms wrap even tighter around Seonghwa’s waist, Seonghwa returning the gesture by hugging him closer by the shoulder, San’s face now unceremoniously buried in his hyung’s shirt.

“Di-did I do something wrong– heht– hyung?” The question is muffled by Seonghwa’s black t-shirt as the sniffling slows. “We don’t spend half the time we used to together.” A silent tear slips down his cheek and Seonghwa wipes it away (with difficulty) with his thumb.

“No, Sannie. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just they… seem to enjoy each other’s company.” Seonghwa cannot contain the emotion that washes over him at the prospect, nor the sigh or tear that slips out of his eye, the wet trail running down his cheek before he could stop it, “I don’t know why,” he whispers to himself as to not show San any signs of his delicate voice, “but they do.” 

“Hyung–” San was out of his shirt before he could press him into himself again in a hug, the younger watching with glossed eyes as another tear skid down his pinked cheek. “Seonghwa-hyung… are you okay?”

“San–” 

“No, no, hyung, come here.” San brings his tear-streaked face closer to him, Seonghwa’s arm around his shoulder falling to his hip. 

Seonghwa crashes himself into the crevasse of his junior’s shoulder, the tears falling freely as emotion overwhelms him, thoughts intruding on his desire to calm San first. 

‘Hongjoong, Hongjoong, Hongjoong ,’ is what those thoughts seem to say from the very centre of Seonghwa’s mind. That’s how it is with Hongjoong. After all, it’s what his name means and at the end of the day, that’s what he is to Seonghwa: the centre of his world.

Seonghwa had often compared himself using the metaphor of the vast universe, but at the very middle of it, though unvoiced to anyone, was Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong was the one to bring him out of his shell.

The one to teach him about learning to be confident in himself.

The first one to love him unconditionally of this family.

To see him.

“I’m so sorry San–” he gasps for breath between the sobs, “I’m the one who’s– supposed to be taking care of you.” San only holds him closer.

“No, hyung. You’ve got to let it out too.” San’s voice now much steadier than 5 minutes before, the tear-streaks slowly evaporating from his cheeks. A hand finds its way to his hyung’s back, soothing him with gentle strokes. “You don’t need to apologise, or talk if you want, just let it all out.”

As Seonghwa’s breathing and thinking slowly rationalises back to normality, he finally finds the courage in him to speak about what's been bothering for months now.

“We– we don’t even talk anymore. Just exchange pleasantries and… the sort. I– I don’t know when the last time was when I went to the studio or the practise room to help him – or me – out, ‘cause… I know he’ll be there. I feel like… he’s replacing Wooyoung with me. And I know how selfish I am, to want to be there for hi– them, and for the rest of you but I really can’t help it. You guys are my family and… I can’t even imagine what it’d be like if one of you were hurt in some way and I couldn’t be there for you. It would be my responsibility, my fault as your hyung. And I couldn’t live with that fact Sannie, I care for you all far too much.”

San stays silent and listens to his ranting hyung, his own problems forgotten and in the past. 

“Hongjoong, he– he probably isn’t taking care of himself properly and it’s my fault too – I’ve been too caught up in self-pity and anger at all of this that I’ve neglected him, San. The one thing I pride myself on: taking care of you and–” a sob sends more tears through his eyes, “I– Wooyoung has stepped up in my place, he– he’s realised San, just how useless I am to him.” Seonghwa attempts to wipe the salty-water from his face but they just continue to fall. “I’ve let him down, Sannie, and he’s replacing me.”

A choked sob ends his waffling, and San cannot help but feel guilty; his hyung had been suffering in silence for all this time and no-one had noticed. Not him, not Yeosang, not Hongjoong himself. San knows very well the pure affection his fellow members feel for their oldest, and knows because of this, how they’d feel if they saw him like this. It was an honour more than a responsibility to be able to care for him like this, let alone see him so vulnerable.

But it felt wrong. This was Hongjoong’s place, without a doubt. He could see the bond they had, the strength of it and the weight of it. 

“Seonghwa-hyung…” San waits for some sort of response. Eventually, the older raises his head from his shoulder, finally meeting his eye after the expansive confession he’d just given. “I say this on behalf of everyone : you have never once, ever, neglected us, especially Hongjoong. I mean, going out to the building and making him eat dinner, sending him reminders to take a break or to stretch his legs and… just simply being here. You’re an emotional rock for everyone, in honest truth, where would I have gone just now if you weren’t here? Yeah, I don’t know either. But ‘selfish’ and ‘ useless ’? Where on earth did you come up with that? 

“If anything, you’re the most selfless, important member in the team. Hongjoong, he… I really don’t think he’s replacing you, Hyung. I don’t think anyone could fill the gap you’d leave if you weren’t here.”

Seonghwa’s tears only spill from his eyes at an even quicker pace thanks to his juniors words.

It’s that warmth, that care, that love that keeps him getting up every morning… no matter if his best friend is there or not - he knows well enough now just how much San seems to love him, how much they all love him as their reliable older brother.

“Sannie–” He finds his face in his hands to try and hide the salty tears from San.

“Oh my god– hyung I’m so sorry! Did I say something bad?” San’s eyes immediately prick with panic at the sight of his senior’s more rapid tears.

“Who– who taught you how to say stuff like that Choi San?” Seonghwa manages to splutter out with a laugh despite the tears rolling on, attempting to swipe a friendly hit at San’s shoulder. “I told you that I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you here!”

San lets out a sigh at the repeated phrase, guiding Seonghwa’s head to his shoulder again softly by the hand. 

“You know…” San waits until Seonghwa’s tears have nearly stopped before speaking again, “we all really love you, hyung. Even if we don’t show it sometimes.” ‘ Hongjoong too? Really?’ Seonghwa can’t help but doubt.

They find their arms naturally wrapping around each other again, sharing pats and tender rubs over their creased clothes.

“...I know,” Seonghwa finally says, his breathing loud and slow, “I do too… and for the record, I don’t think it’d be the same without any of you either.”

“Hey! Don’t make me cry again, hyung! I think I’ve bled my eyes dry of tears today.” San immediately complains, wiping the dampness from his cheeks to accentuate his point. “Do you keep any water in here – we don’t want to be dehydrated tomorrow morning?”

“Ah, yeah–” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes with the sides of his index fingers. “There should be some on the desk… tissues are in the top left draw if you want them too.” 

He watches San untangle their mess of limbs, his legs feeling a tingle of numbness from being hunched up in such an awkward position for so long. The younger climbs down the bunk ladder fairly briskly, retrieving two unopened water bottles and the box of tissues from the unutilized and lonely desk in the corner.

Returning to the comfortable sheets, San hands over a bottle and cracks his open after putting the tissues between them in the middle of the bed, sitting so that they face each other from opposite ends of the bed. 

A comfortable silence descends on the two as they sip their water and dry their faces with the thin paper towels. After a while, they allow their eyes to meet, sharing a knowing expression of tiredness as Seonghwa fishes his phone from somewhere under the bedding.

“Oh, it’s already 4am.” He says, flipping his phone around to show San his lock screen. It's a… a picture of Seonghwa and Hongjoong in what looks like the practice room, clearly splayed out on the wooden floor and smiling with overflowing joy into the camera with the lights reflecting in their eyes while they hold up their fingers in a V pose. San struggles to work out when they took this selca together as he’s never seen them in such a position. ‘ Probably something to do with the practice sessions in the studio that Seonghwa-hyung mentioned …’ But before he can analyse the screen any longer, Seonghwa flips it back round and shuts off the phone. 

“We’ve got the day off tomorrow, so feel free to sleep in longer than me. But if you want to talk more, you’re more than welcome since I kind of interrupted you…” Seonghwa addresses San again after he says nothing.

“Yeah, of course. I think I’m alright now, though. You were right, what you said, I mean. Thank you hyung.” He leans over the railing of the bed to throw the closed water bottle onto the bed below with accuracy despite his drooping eyes.

“It’s no problem, I just want to be here for y–”

“Seriously, thank you hyung. For everything. I hope everything works its way out.” San gives Seonghwa a soft smile from his end, sliding under the blankets after seeing his hyung’s eyes light up slightly, returning the small smile and switching off the lamp behind him.

It isn’t long, however, until they fall asleep and their heads dive back into their worries, meaning anything but a peaceful few hours of sleep for the pair.

♡~~💭~~♡

The beeping of an alarm is the first sound San notices in the morning after their… eventful night. 

He fishes around for the offending phone and dismisses the alarm, looking at the time: 9:25am. 

Seonghwa is still fast asleep, much to his surprise. His body is curled into a foetus position at the other end of the bunk, hands also curled into half-fits. As much as Seonghwa dotes on the other members for their cute sleeping habits, it’s good, San thinks, to now know just how cutely he sleeps too and be able to dote on him just as equally.

From the muffled sounds coming through the closed door, it sounds (and smells) like someone is making breakfast.

Given the time, most of the others are probably awake and up by now which means Wooyoung and Hongjoong might be back… ouch.

San’s not particularly one for confrontation but after yesterday, he knows he has to say something and apologise to Wooyoung in some way. They may have both been sleep-deprived and snappy but that doesn't excuse their behaviour, and San knows it. He might as well be the one to apologise, after all, he had been the initiator. 

So, he accepts his fate and throws on a random jumper over his shirt and pulls up the hood, hoping no-one’ll notice his eyes that probably still show hints that he had cried just a few hours beforehand. 

Taking a last final breath, San takes the door handle in hand, fighting his courage to open it and face it all. 

He reaches forwards to push on the handle to finally break down the wall that’s been separating-

The handle is ripped from his grasp as it is opened with a mass of force from the other side revealing Hongjoong who very nearly bounces onto San on entering the room.

“Oh! Sorry San, I didn’t know you were in here–” he pounces off past San towards their wardrobe on a clear mission, “Seonghwa’s still asleep I see. You both deserve a good rest too after the promotions–” San quickly realises that Honjoong’s… erratic behaviour is definitely one that is not natural and the smell of coffee gives away his source. “Sorry ‘bout last night, Wo- I mean, I was working on some stuff at the company and got a little carried away–” And San is suddenly very much glad Seonghwa isn’t awake to listen to the incoherent reasoning for Hongjoong’s absence. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Uh– yeah. Yeah, all good.” San manages to splutter out before Hongjoong exits the room, a fresh change of clothes in hand.

“Cool. Woo’s making breakfast by the way!” 

He is left there, standing dazed in the doorway to the room, staring at the blank wall of the hallway opposite him, watching Hongjoong jog into the bathroom.

Still a little shell-shocked from the few moments beforehand (since when did Hongjoong start referring to Wooyoung as ‘Woo’?!), San makes way for the kitchen to seek out the smell of steaming dakjuk and baking gyeran-ppang .

In a Pavolian-style influence, his stomach grumbles at the thoughts of such food. So, he follows the smell to their kitchen, where Wooyoung is militarily stirring the dakjuk in a large pot over the stove.

“Woah. That smells great!” He wanders over to Wooyoung’s figure, peering over his shoulder at the chicken scented porridge. 

“Oh! Morning, Sannie. Thanks, I think it smells great too!” Wooyoung beams and San gets a strong whiff of coffee to the face, not noticing how close he is to Wooyoung, meaning he can probably see his blood-shot eyes. If he does, he does not mention it. “Want to try some? I think it’s nearly done.”

He reaches for an unused spoon conveniently set aside for tasting, scooping up a healthy spoonful's worth onto the spoon and beconning San closer with a tilt of his head. He leans forward and takes the spoon into his mouth, the inside instantly glazed with the warmth of the porridge. He swallows deeply with care, savouring the taste of chicken on his tongue.

“Wow! That tastes even better than it looks, Woo. Well done.” San reaches to ruffle the younger’s hair, but he ducks away in time to save his neatly parted hair from the crime.

“Good.” Wooyoung looks rather smug with himself as he grins at San. “I shouldn’t expect anything less from my cooking.”

“Of course.” San grins back, eyes shining under the spotlights in the ceiling. “Do you need me to help anywhere? I was being a bit of an ass yesterday and the least I can do is help, right?” He glances around the room, looking for signs of unfinished tasks.

“Of course, Sannie! It’s fine, I get it, we’re all a bit cooped up right now. Uh…” Wooyoung turns back to stirring the pot, “Oh– yeah. Could you set the table, San-ah?”

San, already picking out cutlery from their (very large) draws, smiles sadly at the younger’s back. 

‘Could you make me love you any less?’

“I’m on it.” He says, counting the amount of spoons in his hand. “Which bowls do you want?” Although he very much knows the answer to that question – they’ve been living like this for well over 4 years now anyway – Wooyoung gets very predictable once you’ve known him so… deeply for so long.

“The ones we got for Seonghwa-hyung’s birthday should do.” He briefly looks up to see San already reaching for the hand-painted colourful bowls. “Thanks, Sannie.” 

“No problem, Youngie.” San collects his items onto one of their trays for situations such as mealtimes – no-one wants to make several trips around the dorm just for dinner, okay? And using all the sleepy confidence he has, briskly peck’s Wooyoung’s dough like cheek when he passes him to leave the room.

Walking into their rather cluttered living room (someone had clearly been using the console earlier), San sets the tray down on the table when he notices Yunho and Yeosang speaking softly as they come in, settling themselves into the couch. 

“-get their shit together-”

“-chasing around each other for months like rabbits-”

“-resolve their issues already-”

“God, I know!” Yunho lets out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think it’s anything too serious or else we’d have had a Discussion about it already… but it’s clearly affecting the group too…”

San tries not to listen as he sets each piece of cutlery gently into their particular places on the eight table mats, but cannot but help overhear parts of their conversation. It’s not like they’re being particularly subtle about their complaints either though.

“Hey San!” Yeosang calls from the couch, head tilted flat against the back of the leather, trying to make eye-contact with San even at the odd angle. 

“Hmm? ‘Morning.” San glances up only to look back down at the table settings.

“What do you think’s going on with Hongjoong and Seonghwa Hyungs? Is it just me or do they look more… detached from one another recently?” 

“Uh.. I don’t really know if I can speak for Seonghwa-hyung on this. It’s…” He notices the sound of shuffling from the hallway, indicating the likelihood of Seonghwa’s abandonment of his bunk and bedroom, “a delicate subject for him.”

“Oh okay. We won’t pry then.” Yunho says, side-eyeing Yeosang in warning. 

“Hey!” Both Yunho and San snort at that.

Meanwhile, the constant sound of shuffling edges closer from the hallway, eventually revealing a very tired looking Seonghwa in the doorway. Clad in creased sweats and a grey jumper pulled over his head, his messy blonde hair falling into his eyes which are probably just as red - if not more - as San’s. He does not announce his arrival in any way, only making his way towards a lone armchair next to the couch. 

“Good morning, hyung.” Yeosang attempts to lean down to meet the older’s eyes, but only received with his head falling lower. San sends a telling expression to the both of them. 

‘Delicate.’

Both seem to receive and decode the message, watching as Seonghwa all but falls into the armchair, bringing a knee up and leaning into the fabric as if he were trying to sleep.

Just as it seems he has, in fact, started dozing back into sleep, the call from Wooyoung shifts their attention to their empty stomachs, “Breakfasts ready! One of you get over here and carry this with me!” He whines from the confines of the kitchen, voice carrying throughout the whole dorm. Trust Wooyoung to be the loud one, even in the mornings.

“I’ll help, Wooyoungie!” An even louder Mingi shouts back through the corridor, heavy footsteps already sounding. 

“And I’ll make sure neither of them burn each other.” Yeosang adds with a roll of his eyes, stalking out the communal space to supervise the (arguably) two very clumsy members. 

Without a word, San makes his way towards Seonghwa’s inward form, both his knees now fully up against his chest. 

“Hey, Seonghwa-hyung,” he says softly, crouching down next to the armchair, “even if you still don’t feel great right now, you’ve gotta put some warm food in your stomach, yeah? This day off is all about having time to ourselves, for ourselves so don’t be afraid of bottling yourself up. Whether or not you want to talk is completely up to you and last night must have had quite an emotional and energetic toll on you, so whatever you do is completely fine, okay?” He still gets no response from the elder. “You don’t have to say anything now either, Hyung, but can you show me, please?”

He attempts to pear under the flopping hood of the hoodie, to be matched with watery eyes. But the older immediately looks away, simply nodding his head in recognition of his dongsaeng’s words.

“Good. Let’s sit together, hm?” This time, Seonghwa nods in record time and San takes the sweater-pawed hand to lead him to the table.

Thankfully, it seems Yeosang was able to prevent Wooyoung and Mingi from breaking, dropping or spilling anything from their journey from the kitchen. Not that San doubted him of course, he knew the intense pressure of Yeosang staring daggers at the back of your head when performing a particularly risky task. One that almost certainly provided success.

At the same time, everyone had gathered towards the table, each taking their seats. 

Luckily, San is able to take dibs on two seats next to each other, one by the end where he sits Seonghwa (still hiding in his hoodie). He takes the seat next to him, never removing the hold on his hand. 

Everything but the absence of Seonghwa’s voice seems normal, each person being handed a steaming bowl of dakjuk and heaps of gyeran-ppang through loud conversations.

“Here,” San picks up a mini loaf of egg bread with his chopsticks and places it on Seonghwa’s side plate, “have some more Hyung, you must be starving.”

But Seonghwa’s muffled sound of thanks is overpowered by the thundering giggling wrapping around the eight of them.

It feels homely, comfortable, normal . Yet it shouldn’t be.

San is hurting.

Someone should have told him unrequited love would be this painful. To see him smile, laugh and throw himself at others all day for the past four-plus years has not been a walk in the park. More like a long, treacherous hike that would continue to never end as his love for his bandmate seems to forever increase.

Seonghwa is hurting.

To be blatantly ignored by your best friend for weeks… it eats at you. San knows that if he were to look into Seonghwa’s hidden eyes he would face the eyes of heartbreak. Platonic or not, to be made to feel you’re being replaced is more than cruel and he desperately wants to drag Hongjoong by the ear to make him finally look Seonghwa eye-to-eye again. Make him see the pain their senior has been fighting to conceal for all this time.

The meal continues with happy conversations around the other six: Seonghwa and San know nothing needs to be said between the two of them; they are comfortable with what they have said and know the other will only share if it’s the right time for themselves. 

But the silence between the two (as well as with the others) does not go under the radar and thankfully unaddressed. They each hold a sympathy for each other in times of emotional vulnerability.

However, a while into breakfast, San notices a pair of more-quite-than-normal-voices that also seem to be avoiding the others.

Looking up, he confirms his suspicions.

Right in front of Seonghwa, Hongjoong sits opposite the oldest in a hushed conversation with Wooyoung on his right.

“...Today’s the… tell him.” He hears Wooyoung say into Hongjoong’s ear. 

‘Really, right in front of Seonghwa?’

He hopes to whatever being out there that Seonghwa has shut out his listening, but the tightening grip on his hand seems to tell San otherwise.

This was just what Seonghwa was so upset about, and rightly so, who ditches their best friend for another when they’re the literal confidant of the group? To see it right in front of his eyes now, San cannot contain the burning anger he holds on Seonghwa’s behalf.

“No… I can’t– …while he’s emotional.” Hongjoong returns.

“When– …go help.”

Stabbing at the poor soupy porridge with his spoon, San loses focus on just how much of his internal rage has been let out onto his innocent food. With warm dakjuk now pooling randomly around the bowl, San registers the mistake he’s made. Oops.

He can already feel the burning stare from Seonghwa under his hood, even if he cannot see his eyes directly. And with Seonghwa now staring, it takes almost no time for most of the others to notice too… Double oops.

“I– uh– Excuse me, I’m gonna get some paper towels.” He swiftly lets go of Seonghwa’s hand (he’d rather not but would hate even more to drag him to the kitchen very obviously in front of the whole group) and almost runs straight into the kitchen’s closed sliding door.

On retrieving his paper towels and heading back to their dining-cross-living-room, San finds that within the short minute or so of time that he has been absent among the others, he’s missed quite a lot.

Everyone’s back to joking around, laughing across the table as voices cross like webs around the room, while Seonghwa’s head only seems to hang lower and his hand still laying open to quietly beg for comfort.

“Hwa-hyung,” San whispers to the elder as he cleans the droplets of wasted soup, “let’s have a cuddle day today.” He says with a small smile and is (thankfully) met with a slight nod and his drooping arm reaching out to take his dongsaeng’s hand again. Stuffing the used paper towels into a pocket (he’ll throw them out when the meal’s ended, he decides in the moment), San gratefully takes the older’s hand again with gentle affection.

But opposite Seonghwa, San notices the serious gaze from Hongjoong’s furrowed brows and concerned-glazed eyes washing over the eldest’s inward form. Instantly, Hongjoong sweeps his focus to San; exchanging a tight lipped smile of acknowledgement between them and returning to chewing his half-eaten gyeran-ppang … occasionally looking back upwards to scan Seonghwa’s outward body language, or lack thereof.

Fortunately, the rest of the meal passes with no more troubles: only high levels of happiness, laughter, smiles, and the tight grip around San’s hand staying constant.

Before anyone acknowledges it, they finish their meal and all seem to naturally return to their regular habits and activities. Yunho, Yeosang and Jongho disappear to their rooms temporarily, leaving to explain that they’re going to the gym together (which didn’t actually need to be vocalised through their gym bags and, well, their addiction to the building) while Mingi immediately snatches up the console to ‘practise his skills’.

Wooyoung starts gathering up the dirty dishes when he sees Seonghwa making no effort to move as he usually might and completing the chore abnormally quietly. Hongjoong, also being uncharacteristically behaved today, helps Wooyoung carry back the large tray of used utensils, plates and Seonghwa’s birthday bowels whilst very obviously continuing to eye the eldest every five seconds.

Feeling the tense air around the four of them, San drags Seonghwa up from his seat and back into Seonghwa’s room again, hastily making sure not to look too out of place.

Once the bedroom door is shut behind them, San sits Seonghwa down on one of his beanie bags by a set of organised drawers and silently takes another from the closet to sit next to him (while remembering to throw out the paper towels in his pocket into the waste paper basket).

“Hyung…” San starts as he sits, but instantly loses the words he desires to say. Seonghwa only tilts his head diagonally towards San and the wall behind them, but San knows Seonghwa’s eyes are on him now. “I– Can I hold your hand again?”

That’s all it takes for Seonghwa to instinctively reach out to grab at San’s closest hand, and holds it close to himself, unconsciously bringing his other hand to their clasped palms to cover them like a comforting blanket.

They sit there in silence for a few moments, holding each other close to each of their hearts in thanks for letting the other see them in this different, abnormal light.

“I want today to be normal.” Seonghwa eventually lets out. “I know it’s unrealistic and will not be the case for either of us, but I’d like to try all the same.”

San squeezes their entwined fingers tighter at the older’s confession. “Of course, Hyung. Me too, to be perfectly honest. Do you want to go and do some practice later?”

Seonghwa finally shows the signs of a smile for the first time in… hours? “I’d love to, Sannie.” He responds, excitement weaving in and out through his voice. Wordlessly, they wrap themselves in each other’s embrace as they had done, mere hours ago.

♡~~💭~~♡

Some time later, when the clouds are dusted cotton candy pink and blue, they do find themselves in the practice room, soft melodies bouncing off the walls as they move their bodies rhythmically to the slow music.

San dances spontaneously to the unfamiliar beat of the song as he predicts the highs and lows of the music, watching Seonghwa’s elegant and precise movements from the corner of his eye before succumbing to watch his Hyung from where he can let him dance in peace.

He clearly knows this one.

He watches Seonghwa’s shoulders roll to the steady music as the accompanying lyrics similarly roll through the speakers in well-practised Japanese,

“Slowly falling
Where the fallen heart goes
Is at least warmer than here”

San follows the expressions on the older’s face, as well as his body, soon harshly hitting the beat to a rap section before slowing down again. His hands rise around his head, motioning to himself and dancing with complete immersion into the song,

“I'm falling to you, I want to see you right now
Someday you might be in my heart
“I am a flower (I am a flower), I am a flower”

He does not waver in his movements and the room would be silent if not for the music and Seonghwa’s heavier breathing as he digs deeper into the music’s core. Moving from his position against the wall would disturb the older, so San decides against doing so before the song’s end.

Twisting on the floor over and over, face distorted in longing emotion, hands grasping the air for something he cannot reach– 

“We are living our first and last moment
So I won't take you for granted
Because you loved me as I am

“I'm fallin' to you”

The final fast chorus of the song brushes past in an instant, Seonghwa on the floor one moment, rolling his arms steadily the next, and finally finishing with a closed hand outstretched to an empty audience of mirrors.

He does not move, not an inch. Eyes closed. Shut off.

San claps quietly in the emptiness of the practice room, applauding the older’s dedication to his dance. The room is finally filled with the sound of Seonghwa huffing a chuckle past his lips at the younger’s enthusiasm.

“Wow, Hyung! That was incredible – your aura was insane!” San stands up, walking towards the older to give him a hug. Seonghwa gladly accepts the skinship with a smile and no hesitation. “When on earth did you learn that dance? I’ve never seen you practice that before– you’re so cool, Hyung!” They rock from one foot to the other in their hug, pressing their bodies together in admiration for the other.

“Ah, I leant it a year or two ago, during Mingi’s break. It was supposed to be a gift for him when he came back as a ‘we missed you’ message, but it never came to it.” Seonghwa explains earnestly. “We were too busy then.”

Seeing Seonghwa smile makes San’s heart overflow with happiness as this is the most sincere, genuine smile he’s seen from his Hyung in many weeks. Though… a part of him questions why Seonghwa would have chosen this song as a gift for Mingi, back then… the lyrics seem more appropriate for another– though it may just be coincidence. ‘Yes, that’s probably all there is to it. Just a coincidence.’ He concludes to himself.

“That’s so sweet of you, Hwa-Hyung~” San hugs him tighter, stopping himself from word vomiting his inner thoughts.

Seonghwa laughs again and he can hear his smile in his voice. “Thank you, Sannie. I’ve got a playlist of some stuff I want to brush up on, would you mind helping me?”

“Of course I will, Hyung!” San is the first to pull away from the hug, and they both immediately miss the warmth. “Let’s set it up and get started now!” He finds himself leaping towards Seonghwa’s phone, unlocked from being plugged into the speakers. “What’s the playlist called?”

Half an hour later, they’re dancing to ‘Say My Name,’ doing the popular ‘driving’ sequence over and over until San is holding onto Seonghwa’s hip to create a duo chain of the move. Laughing loudly at their play-off from the original, still gliding across the room with the energy of children, neither notice that the song is coming to an end.

The joyfulness of their spirits continues unassumingly until the instrumental of the next song randomly plays from the speakers.

“…I think the proof of that is you
We fought and targeted each other
But we just took each other for granted…”

Seonghwa is frozen.

The song that Hongjoong wrote for him, as a literal thanks for being there, plunges the room into stillness while the chords play along with their soft leader’s voice.

San can do little more than let go of Seonghwa’s hip and wrap his arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a half-hug, his other hand coming to the back of the older’s head to stroke the blonde fibres through his fingers.

He can only imagine what is going through his friend’s head at this moment in time… Hongjoong all but confessed to Seonghwa in that song, those three years ago. How things have changed since then. To know that Seonghwa feels that Wooyoung is now at Hongjoong’s centre crushes the other’s being as a whole. As a family, Seonghwa is their mother bird, always running around their group for the others to do whatever he can to help them in any way. Now, to feel useless to their leader has demoted his own view of his self-worth all the way back down to below zero when all their members but himself still see him as their very much worthy brother.

“Hyung…” San starts hesitantly, not gaining much of a reaction from Seonghwa, “do… Do you want me to turn it off?” Seonghwa swallows loudly despite the music still pounding gently through the space.

“I…” He begins, seemingly lost as to where to continue. But after a few moments, he regains his movement, leaning away to San to say, “yes. Yes please, Sannie.”

Leaving him to stand there awkwardly makes San also feel uneasy – it’s as if the events of the previous few hours have disappeared and Seonghwa is in the same state as he was this morning… ‘ because he is,’ San dawns.

Hastily, San jumps around Seonghwa to turn off the music by unplugging the device from the lead connecting to the speakers and putting it in his jogger’s pocket. Guiding the older to the wall gently, San sits them down, allowing Seonghwa to lean on him with all his weight.

“Seonghwa-Hyung,” San says after a few moments, “you need to get out of this headspace, okay? I don’t want you to slip even deeper like this morning – I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up – I should have stayed with you the whole time. But I’m here now, and I’m going to stop that from happening, alright? I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing, but please communicate with me as much as you can, okay?”

A pregnant pause arises in the room before Seonghwa tilts his neck up from San’s shoulder and replies earnestly.

“Don’t apologise. It’s okay.”

San is not quite sure what Seonghwa means by his second statement, but he knows that right now, Seonghwa is not okay and he needs to bring him back. He, himself, has never attempted to bring someone out of a reclusive headspace, but he goes with trying his first logical idea: gaining attention. He needs to bring the older’s attention out of his head, and back to reality with something . Thankfully, he has just the thing.

“Hyung, watch what I do with my phone, okay? I need you to focus on this, so I can help you.”

Assuming Seonghwa is staring up at him with his big-doe-eyes™ (which he is, most definitely), he makes his move to take his own phone from its place on the floor (irresponsible or not, it’s convenient for dance practices) and unlocks it to place it so that Seonghwa can look at it comfortably from his position as well as being able to use it to help Seonghwa while he can.

Opening up the correct app, San starts to draw with his finger. First, he colours a dark navy sky onto the whole of the digital canvas, then begins to fill it with stars. He draws a huge one at the centre, and draws Seonghwa’s name in the middle. Only then does he label some other smaller stars scattered around the largest – making sure Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s stars are nowhere near each other – and if he happens to place his star next to Wooyoung’s, then it’s definitely a coincidence.

Above Seonghwa’s star, San draws the final star in a bright orange and double the size of the others, though not quite as large as the star at the heart of the theoretical constellation. Labelling it ‘Atiny’ with the original yellow from the other’s stars.

To finish the piece, San zooms out to see the entire picture and runs his finger over all of the remaining empty dark navy sky with a glistening star filter, listening to Seonghwa’s little happy sounds all the while.

“What do you think, Hyung?” San asks, giving Seonghwa his phone despite knowing his answer already.

“Pretty…” He can hear Seonghwa mumble, followed distantly by more compliments. “Members… Atiny… Happy.” He finishes by adjusting himself so he may look San in the eye, a genuine smile stretched joyfully across his cheeks.

Although he may not have completely retracted himself from his headspace, his actions seem much more normal to the regular Seonghwa, so San counts this as a win on both their parts. He smiles back.

“Do you want me to give this to you? I can send it to you, if you’d like?” It’d make future potential slips to be helped and prevented, San rationalises.

With an eager nod of the head, San squeezes the older’s shoulders tighter towards his body and uses his other hand to take the phone back and save the file on his phone, before mailing it to Seonghwa’s personal online address; that way, he can pin the picture in several ways, if he wants. Feeling the phone in his pocket vibrate, he is reminded of its weight in his pocket and swiftly hands it back to Seonghwa, whose smile widens even further at the gesture.

He unlocks his phone to open the email from San and saves the file several times in different folders in his storage, pausing when his phone shows a pop-up notification from their group chat.

“Oh.” He states simply.

“What is it?” San asks. He could look at his own phone, but he just put it away~

“Jongho is asking whether or not we should go out tonight for a barbeque as a celebration for completing our promotions, he says our manager is treating us.”

“Well, do you want to go?”

Seonghwa considers the opportunity; it’s a chance to let go of everything from recently but he still doesn’t feel that up to being around the whole group just yet. However, better get rid of that mindset sooner rather than later, right?

“I think it’d be good for everyone. I’m not opposed to going myself and everyone does deserve a treat after how busy we’ve been over the last few months.”

“I agree, Hyung. We’ve been quite busy over the last few months, utilising our days off is always best. Now, what cut of meat do you want?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Seonghwa smiles widely again with a glint of mischief in his eye (which definitely does not heighten San’s worry for their manager’s credit card), “I’ve been craving Korean marinated beef for days now!”

“You really do want to break his bank account, don’t you, Hyung!?” San laughs heartily with Seonghwa at his words, the atmosphere of the room gladly changed from the stiff air of the minutes beforehand to tranquillity… or as close as you can get when you’re laughing.

♡~~💭~~♡

As the eight of them tumble out of their large van, the moon hides behind the safety of grey clouds in the sky, prohibiting any natural light – only the streetlamps remain the only source of light in their city at such a time after sunset.

In reality, it’s barely been an hour or two since Seonghwa and San left KQ at sunset, their phones glinting the actual time of nine o’clock in their eyes when they check in for their reservation at the small street restaurant a few blocks away from their dorm.

“Thank you very much, ajumma . Your restaurant looks lovely!” Yunho says as the short, slightly grey and wiry haired owner shows them to her largest table at the back of the room.

“Of course, of course. You are a very sweet young man, flattery will get you everywhere in this world – and in my restaurant.” She waves her hands around as she addresses him, patting him lightly on the shoulder in modest affection. “Now, the menu is up there. Let me know when you know what you want, boys…” She points to the giant wall to their left, the menu simply written onto the black wallpaper in a mixture of white marker, tape and formal signs before wandering back towards another table to tend to her customers.

“Order what you want, boys, it’s on me.” Their manager says cheerfully from his adjoining table a few feet away. “I’ll probably leave earlier than you, so tell them to just take it through my card again,” he explains, handing his credit card to Seonghwa, the responsible one, “and be careful, okay? No injuries or alcohol poisoning tonight, thank you.” He nods finally, sure of his decision, as he turns back to his 2 accompanying colleagues who have also taken the opportunity to splash the older’s cash.

The eight of them lean into the table, exchanging mischievous glances between each other, each radiating their equal message, ‘we’re going to eat to our limit today, boys, let’s go all out! No-one’s leaving here with any space left in their stomachs.’

Wooyoung is the first to pipe up his order of the group, “I want to eat Hanwoo beef! Ajumma has a beef package so we can all eat as much meat as we want!” He exclaims, excited for his meal.

“A package sounds great!” Says Mingi, who’s almost bouncing in his seat, energy running off of his skin. “We need~ to have deungshim too! Oh, then we can try the marinade combo as well. Please~ Seonghwa-Hyung, can we have the beef package?” Mingi gives Seonghwa his best possible puppy-eyes from his awkward seat two stools away from the eldest.

“Have whatever you want, guys, just don’t go too overboard okay?” He smiles, patting Mingi’s knee to calm him from his bubbly bouncing.

“Yes!” Several voices exclaim at once, a couple laughing at their liveliness.

With that, Seonghwa presses the ‘call’ button and the same lady returns to their table in record time.

“Have you all decided on your meals already? You must all eat very well.” She says, smiling broadly. “What would you like, then?”

“Thank you, ajumma . We have decided, yes.” Seonghwa says, and she makes her way over to the speaking member. “We’ll have your largest beef package and… 6 bottles of soju, please.”

“Of course!” She answers, placing a small chubby hand on his shoulder gratefully. “Gosh, you boys are very thin,” she observes, “I’ll put some extra meat in there, free of charge, for you, okay?”

They each watch on as several mouths open slightly, including their oldest, when he bows in thanks. “That’s very generous of you, ma’am, thank you very much.”

“No problem, boys. Eat well, alright?” She calls, walking away from their table to process their order.

Conversation flows the lightest it has done for the entire day, all eight young men enjoying their night out as if they aren’t international celebrities day-to-day. They find the barbeque shop cozy, a perfect atmosphere for a wind-down from their normal activities as idols. 

When a whole platter of meat is brought to their table, a great cheer erupts within the restaurant, a celebration of the food they’ve well earned over the past months. Seonghwa immediately starts grilling the deungshim and several sausages, warning his bandmates to save the best ‘till last. Within minutes, almost half the group has discarded the conversation to just watch their Hyung cook the drool-worthy meat less than 2 feet in front of them.

“Is it ready, Hyung?” Jongho asks, licking his lips at the smell of the soft marinated meat.

“It’s almost there, give it a couple more seconds for it to be mid-rare.” He responds, flipping over the sausages to brown them on the other side, those watching making audible swallowing noises. Mere seconds later, picking up a couple of slices of deungshim , he deposits them on each member’s bowl of rice.

“Thank you, Seonghwa-Hyung!” Wooyoung half-yells across the table, the meat still half chewed in his mouth. Seonghwa almost laughs at the gesture… before he sees Hongjoong sneak a hand under the table to pat the younger’s leg, lifting a finger to his lips simultaneously. The sight makes his stomach churn with an undefined and unpleasant feeling, so he focuses his attention back on the meat in front of him, portioning it out wordlessly, taking a shot or two of soju as he does.

“Here, Hyung.” San stands a while later, chopsticks and meat in hand. “Have some, you’ve been cooking it so well for us and yet you haven’t had any!” He says, raising the food towards Seonghwa.

“I’m fine, you have it Sannie.” Seonghwa answers, momentarily looking up to face San, and then back down at the grill in front of him, missing San’s concerned furrow of his brows. But Hongjoong doesn’t.

“Seonghwa,” their leader addresses, watching the situation unfold, “have something to eat, please. Otherwise you’ll get sick if you drink more alcohol.” His eyes hold another unnamed emotion in them, as well as a clear need to take care of the members. But his eyes are so much deeper than if he’d looked earlier. They say the eyes are the gateway to the soul, and in this moment, that’s what Seonghwa feels: he has been allowed access to see Hongjoong’s ever so pure soul, persuading him to do as his friend says.

He caves in.

“Okay, I will.” Immediately, Hongjoong’s eyes somehow soften more, but the gateway closes, causing Seonghwa to tear his own eyes away to see San giving him a toothy smile.

“Here, Hyung.” He says, raising the meat again, this time Seonghwa opening his mouth to let himself taste the sweet meat on his tongue, honey soy tickling his taste buds, causing a small sound to escape his lips. Realising his actions, Seonghwa raises a hand over his mouth, swiping a glance across the table to make sure no-one noticed, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Thankfully, they’re all preoccupied teasing Wooyoung for his similar habits, the member himself strewn across Yunho’s larger form, clapping his hands and laughing at the people around him.

Every so often, someone feeds him a slice, Seonghwa gratefully eating all he is offered despite the fact that he cooked the meat himself. By the time the hanwoo is deemed ready to be eaten, at least half of their group are in the least tipsy, but thankfully not drunk. All their senses need to be awake for this part of the meal for sure.

The first slice of the beef goes to their manager as a thank you for the meal, the older almost halfway out of the door as the meat is shoved into his mouth by Yeosang. Everyone in the little restaurant laughs as their manager tries to avoid Yeosang’s gift, but eventually, he tastes the meat, sending Seonghwa a thumbs up at his cooking.

When he’s properly gone and Yeosang is sitting again, the real party starts. Hanwoo is swallowed with constant groans of happiness, praises to the griller and the making of many ssam , all of which grow a smile on everyone’s faces. Seonghwa too, the atmosphere catching up with him, his mind drunk on the joy of being around his favourite people.

Unfortunately, time seems to fly as fast as the consumption of the beef and soon, no meat is left to grill on the platter.

“Excuse me, ajumma !” Mingi calls as soon as he sets eyes on the empty tray. “Can we have another bottle of soju, please?”

On cue a few moments later, she drops the bottle on their table as she passes and Mingi immediately pours out a few glasses, thanking her.

“Now. Who wants to play some drinking games?”

“Mingi, do you even know how to play any?” Wooyoung laughs manically.

“That’s not the point.” Mingi pouts. “But I can be the referee.”

“Okay, okay. Mingi’s the referee, then…” Hongjoong says, stopping any potential conflict before it starts, looking around the table, “does anyone not want to play?”

“Eh, I’m not really in the mood for drinking games.” San sighs, putting his hands up in a surrender sort of pose.

“Alright, what do you guys want to play? Nothing too extreme, though, please – this is our day off, not some reality show.” Hongjoong asks, looking around the table again.

The table is silent for a moment in time, before Yeosang pipes up a suggestion, Seonghwa’s stomach twisting oddly as if his body knows what’s coming next. “How about the ‘I love you’ game?”

Yep. There it is.

Almost all heads at the table turn to Yeosang, one or two raising eyebrows at the suggestion, but that goes unnoticed by Seonghwa who’s stomach is now definitely twisting and turning at… something.

“I mean, as long as no-one’s opposed to it?” Hongjoong questions, again , signifying the start of the game when no-one replies.

Without a word, Mingi and San shuffle in their seats, but the lack of verbal communication quickly dissipates as arguments for seats kicks into a couple of members, Mingi complaining that it’s best if he and San sit together, but Yeosang refusing to move from his seat as it apparently has ‘the best access to the banchan’ on the table. Eventually, the dishes are moved slightly around the table, Seonghwa now in Yeosang’s old seat next to the latter himself (and Hongjoong –not that that mattered to Seonghwa or anything–) and Mingi in his former seat next to San, already telling Mingi the rules of the game.

“So, are we finally ready to play?” Wooyoung groans from a few seats away, scanning the table for any interruptions or comments, to which he receives none. “Youngest first, going anticlockwise!” He exclaims loudly, a knowing edge to his voice.

Jongho’s cheeks flame up in the dimed lightning of the restaurant, and Seonghwa has a very strong feeling this has something to do with his very obvious crush on the hyung to his right.

Ignoring his own reaction to Wooyoung’s words, Jongho turns to Yeosang, gently taking the older’s hands into his palm, slowly rubbing his knuckles before raising his eyes to look to Yeosang’s.

“Hyung,” Jongho starts, cheeks still red and processing what he’s about to say, “I love you, thunder.” He almost races out, waiting for Yeosang’s reaction… to which he only raises a brow and no more.

“Take a shot, Jongho!” San announces from across the table, already passing a full glass to the youngest, who seems a little deflated at his loss, but takes the shot anyway.

Come to think of it… Seonghwa wonders about Jongho’s word of choice as it resonated closely with the meaning of Yeosang’s own nam–

Before he registers that he’s next, Yeosang is taking his hands and turning him slightly in his seat in the process.

“You don’t have to look so alarmed, Hyung, I’m not going to drag you off your seat and shove you onto the street or anything!” Yeosang smiles softly, with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Ready?”  –Seonghwa nods– “I love you 3000.”

“Hey! That’s my line!” San exclaims, standing from his seat, Seonghwa laughing hysterically at the scene in front of him, tying him to the glass of alcohol.

“You’re not playing, and even if you were, it wouldn’t be random, then.” Yeosang deadpans, giving San a rather sinister look. “And it looks to me as if I’ve won.”

“Okay, okay. Pass me a glass, please, Mingi.” Seonghwa says, not putting up a fight at all to avoid the drink, instead taking the cup and after a deep breath, raising it to his lips and swallowing it in one gulp. The burning alcohol scratches down his throat, the burn causing him to pick up his glass of water and take a large drink out of it.

However, when he puts the plastic cup down, all eyes are on him.

Shit.

Hongjoong in particular has a very… expectant look on his face? ‘What’s all this about?’ He wonders, taking Hongjoong’s ever so small hands in his, desperately trying not to look him in the eye, despite the rules.

“Um…” He begins, almost forgetting the game as his mind focuses on the contact he has with Hongjoong before snapping out of it again, trying to think of the random word, then finally saying, “I love you, captain.”

With all the courage he can muster, Seonghwa makes eye contact again with their leader, only to see his eyes have the same deepness to them that they had earlier. But this time, with a speck of another emotion, a rather confident one that has Hongjoong raise one side of his lips into a smirk. And once more, Seonghwa is washed with another unknown feeling that has his throat tight and mouth open due to the sight before him.

The silence is unbearably loud, and Seonghwa wishes Hongjoong to laugh, to pat him on the shoulder, do something to break it… but the smirk remains until the sound of San’s voice (finally) fills the void, “I’ll take Seonghwa’s shot.”

“What?” Seonghwa instinctively replies, letting go of Hongjoong’s hands to turn to him.

“You’ve already taken a couple shots tonight, Hyung and I’ve only had one. Like our manager said, we don’t want anyone getting too drunk or even getting alcohol poisoning so I’ll take it for him.” San explains, taking the glass in his hand, ready to take the shot.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure, Hyung. Don’t worry about it.” San reassures their eldest before drinking the soju all in one, Seonghwa getting up to lean over the table and ruffle San’s hair.

“Thank you, Sannie, you didn’t have to do that.”

San smiles, no words said, none that need to be, anyway.

“It’s Hongjoong-Hyung’s turn next, right?” Mingi says, more a statement than a question.

“Ah, yeah.” Hongjoong says plainly, eyes skipping all over the room… only turning to Wooyoung when he’s satisfied with the situation. “Wooyoung.” He takes the younger’s hand, holding him by the wrist rather than in his palm. “I love you, friend.”

And for a reason Seonghwa cannot fathom, that sends Wooyoung into complete fits of laughter, clapping his hands together, holding them over his mouth and slapping his thighs too. Only Wooyoung’s laughter fills the area they sit in, the rest of them exchanging a series of different glances, most of which Seonghwa cannot decipher.

“Sorry, sorry,” Wooyoung wheezes, “gimme the soju. I’m fine, I’m fi–” he says, rolling into a laughing state halfway through his sentence, taking the glass given to him and drinking it.

In time, he turns to Yunho, whose eyebrows are nearing his hairline at the scene before his eyes.

“Yunho! I love you, sexy puppy!” Wooyoung says, grabbing the older’s shoulders, rather than his hands.

Yunho looks a little surprised for a moment before covering his mouth with his and...“Pfft–” he breaks into giggles.

Seonghwa has always found it funnily ironic that a man as tall and presumably intimidating as Yunho has the cutest laugh you’ve ever heard, but he supposes it matches his sweet personality.

“Yunho-ah!” Mingi calls through a similar string of giggles, using his arm to stretch past San to pass the drink to the older. “Here’s a glass!”

Yunho’s laughter eventually comes to a stop and he tastes the drink, quickly increasing his speed and eyes rolling back as he finishes the strong liquid. 

“Thanks, Mingi-ah!” He calls back, putting (slamming) the glass back on the table a little too hard.

The game plays on with the winners of the round competing against each other, most of them impressively managing to win again and again, until the last two players remain: Yeosang and Hongjoong, who sit staring at each other with blank, emotionless faces as they compete for the title of ‘winner.’

Soon, however, the competition heightens between the two further, the pair starting to insult each other during their respective turns.

“I love you, ass.” Says Yeosang, not even blinking at the fact that he’s insulted his elder and leader with his words. But Hongjoong shows no reaction but a furrow of his brows.

“I love you, child .” He returns, albeit ironically childishly, but Yeosang doesn’t even flinch, instead hitting him with his own witty comeback. The back and forth continues, with no clear end to the competition they’ve started.

“Guys, guys, guys.” Seonghwa interrupts mid Hongjoong’s turn, tired of watching the endless game. “We’re clearly getting nowhere here, and we have to get home at a reasonable time tonight, which means a compromise to end this game, unfortunately for you two, but I suggest a draw as the final result.” He announces to the table, namely the remaining contestants still facing each other. “Neither of you are going to win this, and we all know it. So apologise to each other now so we can finish up here and go home… Joong?”

“Okay, Hwa. We’ll finish here.” Hongjoong replies, giving their eldest a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry Yeosang, I didn’t mean any of what I said, and I didn’t mean to offend you because of a game of all things.”

“Sure.” Yeosang says, his tone pretty flat. “Me too, I don’t mean to disrespect you as my elder and leader either.”

A collective sigh leaves the table as the two nod at each other, resolving their actions from during the game. They start to stand, putting on layers they’d shed upon entering the building and throughout their meal, calm chatter resumes between pairs and trios in the group, their eldest shuffling them to the door in no time.

“Wait, Hyung!” Mingi’s heavy voice calls when he realises they’re being guided to the exit. “Don’t we have to pay? And how will we get back?”

“Don’t worry, I paid during the game and I texted our manager to ask for a van back at the same time. It should be here now.” Seonghwa answers, giving Mingi a reassuring smile and a pat on the back, turning to call to the lady who served them, still bustling around the floor. “Thank you for the food, ajumma !”

“Thank you for the meal!” The members all jointly shout kindly, the owner giving them a wave and a thumbs up in response.

Upon being able to arrange everyone outside, a large van for them pulls up beside the swarm of members on the side of the street, each one orderly filing into the black tinted vehicle to get out of the uncomfortable mid-August warm night air.

Conversations continue inside the van, a couple talking about their day, others talking about plans, others discussing pieces of small-talk and the sort, and in what feels like no time at all, the group arrives at their dorm’s parking lot. As ever, they pile out of the van, thanking the driver and continuing their conversations.

“God, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat much more than snacks for a whole week after that meal!” San tells Seonghwa as they all squish into the elevator. “Thanks again for the food, Hyung.”

“You better eat well even after all that meat, Sannie, I’ll make sure you do.” Seonghwa smiles, wrapping an arm around San’s broad shoulders to pull him into a half-hug. “And don’t thank me for the food – thank our manager instead!”

“I will, I will, Hyung.” San says, pulling away from the hug when the elevator bounces to start its ascent up the building. “I’m going straight to bed, by the way, so don’t mind me if you don’t see me for the rest of the night.”

“That’s alright, I think I’ll go to sleep sometime soon too, once the adrenaline has left my system for sure.” The eldest laughs quietly, leaving the conversation silent.

Moments later, the lift stops and a sharp ‘ ding ’ lets them know of the opening of the doors seconds later, most of them hurrying to get to their dorm for whatever reason. In times like this, Seonghwa likes to stand back and look onto his bandmates, thinking of how much he loves his non-biological family. They’re messy at times, they’re eight men in their twenties after all, and sometimes a little dysfunctional but they always get through it. They always end up sticking to each other; emotionally, physically or both, this is Seonghwa’s family. This is his happy place.

“Gonna sleep in the corridor tonight, Hwa?” A voice says from outside of Seonghwa’s space, suddenly invading his line of thought and pulling him back to reality, guided by a ghost touch of a hand on his lower back.

“Oh, no, I’m not. Sorry, Joong, I spaced out for a second there…” He starts walking to the open door, very aware of the leader behind him.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Hongjoong almost chuckles. “I’m going to try and secure a bathroom, now, if you don’t mind me, Hwa. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, the short man practically hops down the hallway, looking for an empty bathroom.

‘ I wonder what’s gotten into him. ’ Seonghwa thinks, watching the spectacle.

With a little shake of his head, he walks down the hallway and into his own room. It’s just as he left it a few hours prior, beds made and floors beautifully clean, but he’s sure that’ll change once Hongjoong comes back from his shower.

To preoccupy himself, Seonghwa sits at the desk, opening one of the drawers to empty it of its useful contents. Being an idol comes with its demanding standards, and clear skin being at the heart of it doesn’t particularly bother Seonghwa. He loves self-care products, and though he may not use them all everyday, it’s certainly enough to be considered a hobby in the least, and has been since he became a trainee.

As soon as the contents are neatly laid out in front of him, Seonghwa picks up his mirror and starts rubbing many of the different products into his skin, eyebrows, lips and eyelids in his very specific order. The room would be deadly quiet, save for the sound of the products on his skin, and even then, Seonghwa wishes he’d put on a playlist or something before coating his hands in sticky chemicals.

When he finishes, he wipes his hands on some tissues, and neatly packs everything away in their correct place. Then he approaches their wardrobe, wondering which pair of pyjamas he’d like to wear today when the door opens, revealing a rather soaked Hongjoong.

Seonghwa is frozen in place as Hongjoong waddles into the room, desperately trying to keep the towel on his hips in place as he moves across the floor towards Seonghwa who is most definitely not staring at Hongjoong’s exposed torso. And no he would not like to run his nails down the outline of those abs, thank you very much. No, definitely not.

“Hey Hwa,” Hongjoong greets, already half in the closet to reach for a pair of pyjamas, “if it’s alright with you, I wanted to talk to you about something.” The shorter man is visibly buzzing with energy, and Seonghwa cannot fathom why, apart from the food perhaps?

“Yeah, sure. What did you want to talk about?” Seonghwa asks, going to sit on the desk chair, spinning it around to face Hongjoong at the centre of the room, already fully dressed.

“Well, that’s just it.” Hongjoong says sheepishly, sitting on his bed with his hands gripping the sheet below him. “I wanted to apologise, first of all, for not coming back as early as I said I would at the beginning of promotions.”

“That’s alright, Joong, I know you’re busy.” Seonghwa replies, gritting out a smile despite his earnest tone. ‘ Busy with Wooyoung… ’ His brain helpfully supplies.

Hongjoong smiles back, a sparkle in his eyes. “Thank you, Hwa, I’ll try and stick to it better in the future. But I wanted to ask how you are. Our schedules haven’t exactly aligned recently and we haven’t been able to talk much.”

‘ Our schedules haven’t aligned?! What in the– ’ Hongjoong’s words send Seonghwa over the edge of his emotional cliff, immediately spiralling into angry rambles. 

“Talk?!” Seonghwa rages, standing from his seat. “Of course we haven’t been able to talk, Hongjoong! But both you and I know well that it’s not our schedules keeping us apart like this! And don’t worry, I know the time you used to spend with me is now spent with Wooyoung, I mean, what else is he doing at the company at the dead of night if he’s not with you?” A finger is pointed directly at the younger’s chest, his face stricken with fear. But that only spurs Seonghwa on. “I know you two are close but you’re not exactly subtle either, Hongjoong. And for what? To guilt me? To guilt San? You know how close those two are and yet you’ll ignore how much San is hurting to be able to get closer to Wooyoung. I didn’t think you could be so cruel, Kim Hongjoong.” Seonghwa glares, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hwa, I–”

“Don’t ‘Hwa’ me, Hongjoong. Haven’t you noticed how fragile San has been emotionally over the past few weeks? His less than normal outbursts becoming more frequent during practices? Oh, and I know that you don’t know the amount of times San – of all people, San – has had to come to me over the past couple of weeks in tears? And all through that, you keep doing it, Hongjoong. For all I know, you and Wooyoung would be cooped up in the company, enjoying each other’s company as if this situation doesn’t exist! To think I thought you were more responsible than that, Hongjoong. We’re supposed to take care of them, Joong, it’s our responsibility but no , just throw that out the window. For all I can guess, you two must be dating or something–” Seonghwa’s heart aches at his own words, and it hurts as if he’s been stabbed in the chest, right here, in his own bedroom. That’s when it hits him – he likes Hongjoong, romantically. 

“No, no, no, Hwa. I–”

“But to think… that entire time I stood and looked at you two and thought about what I’d possibly done wrong, the both of you all but acknowledge what’s happening outside of the other. So, no, Joong , we haven’t talked.”

Hongjoong looks like he’s been struck by lightning in the middle of a sunny day, and oh so completely distraught as to what he’s caused. Maybe that makes Seonghwa feel a tiny bit guilty at his irritated speech, but the feeling is so small that it is buried deep within him as he sits back onto the chair, sighing loudly.

“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong says after a deep breath. “I’m so, so sorry. I– You’re right, I had no idea.” And he looks so guilty, Seonghwa’s heart is almost swayed. “I should take responsibility for that, it’s my mistake. But I promise you, Hwa,” Hongjoong says, getting up from the bed and walking towards Seonghwa, eventually taking his hands as they did perhaps an hour before, “I promise you, there is no relationship like that between me and Wooyoung.”

Swallowing audibly, Seonghwa lets out a shaky breath, only just realising he has drying tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Okay…” He says slowly, “then what’s been going on?”

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.” Hongjoong’s lips rub together nervously and Seonghwa watches his movements, equally as nervous. “When we’re at the studio, I’ll be honest, Wooyoung and I are just talking most of the time. Of course we talk about ourselves, but it’s usually not the subject, it’s the group. It started as just hanging out, Hwa, a couple of coincidences, I swear. I’m so sorry if it came off as replacing you or something because now that I’ve said it out loud, that’s what it sounds like, but it’s really not.” Hongjoong apologises, rubbing the elder’s knuckles while talking.

“I’ll admit that’s what it felt like, Joong, I was worried that I’d let you down and Wooyoung stepped in because he was better and I wasn’t good enough–”

“Seonghwa, no,” Hongjoong interrupts, his eyes becoming voids again, “you are more than enough, you are so good to the whole group, to me and Wooyoung can’t ever compare to that, never.”

Seonghwa is pretty sure his lungs have stopped functioning by now, and his heart is pretty close to it too. “Thank you, Joong.” He says, unsure of what to say, but Hongjoong just smiles again.

“A week or two into our conversations,” Hongjoong begins again, “Wooyoung said something to me… about you and San.” Seonghwa’s eyes lift from his view of their hands at the statement, suddenly feeling rather anxious. “Really, about what we’d talked about, actually. He brought up Jongho’s joke about you acting as ‘the Captain’s wife’ in our storyline and our joint parental roles back when we debuted. He asked me about the line between a relationship, what made those jokes any different from actual feelings.” 

Hongjoong wasn’t actually suggesting that Wooyoung… 

“Yes, Hwa, that was my reaction too. I don’t mean to out Wooyoung like this but yes, he asked me for advice about liking someone – me?” He lets out a small laugh at that, Seonghwa just staring in shock. “But I gave him the best advice I could, to analyse the time you spend together. I told him to pay attention to the small instincts and feelings, because that makes sense, right? Well, another week or so later, he mentioned how much I talk about you, Hwa, and that made me think as I’d told Wooyoung to think.”

Seonghwa is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open by now, as Hongjoong exhales an amused sigh of… something.

“I thought about everything we’ve been through, Hwa, since the day you walked through those company doors and asked for us to look out for you too. When we’d practice together in the training room and eventually end up just laughing with each other all night long. When we’d go on live and let everyone see those similar situations. When times were tough and you listened to me complain about shit–”

“You never complained pointlessly, Joong.” Seonghwa intervenes assuringly.

“I knew you’d say that,” Joong quietly laughs, “but you have to admit I do. Anyway, I thought about those times a lot, and I realised what Wooyoung was getting at, in terms of his own relationship with San. Wooyoung I have been discussing it recently, trying to fully work out our feelings.”

Oh, okay, that took a turn his heart wasn’t ready for in the best way possible…

“What I’m trying to say, Hwa,” Seonghwa isn’t sure when he stood up to stand with Hongjoong, but he finds himself looking down at the younger, their hands still connected, “is that I like you, Park Seonghwa. I like you so much it hurts, Hwa, and I’m sorry if this is too direct or something, but I thought… it’s just a feeling, I thought that you might like me too… hopefully?” Hongjoong’s tone slips into a nervous one and he’s uncharacteristically nervous in his body language too, trying to avoid Seonghwa’s eyes desperately and fingers twitching.

“Joong,” Seonghwa initiates, still in a slight state of shock. It’s barely been minutes since he noticed his romantic feelings for the younger, giving him almost no time to process anything let alone form words into a coherent sentence. But he gives it a go, “you’ve no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say something like that, God. I thought I was being unreasonable, that my feelings weren’t justified but I never thought that you’d like me Joong. Fuck, I feel so bad for only realising now how jealous I’ve felt and how that came off in my actions – I’m sorry.”

Hongjoong takes another step impossibly closer, a hand now resting on the elder’s shoulder, assuring him of his presence.

“I think I like you, Joong.” Seonghwa eventually blurts.

“You think?” Joong teases, much to Seonghwa’s annoyance.

“Fine, I know. I know that I like you more than a friend, Hongjoong, and I want to be that for you.” He says sincerely, biting his lip.

The hand resting on his shoulder soon moves closer to his jaw, gently leading his dead up to meet the younger’s eyes, shimmering with happiness under the harsh white lights of the room.

“I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend, but I feel like you’ve just beat me to it.” Hongjoong smiles, his lips becoming very kissable in the moment.

“Then ask me.” Seonghwa dares, tempting the younger.

As if on command, Hongjoong raises himself to eye-level on his tip-toes, still smiling wildly with his arms looped around Seonghwa’s neck intimately.

“Well, Park Seonghwa, since you insist, I want to ask you if you’d like to formally go out with me, as my boyfriend… officially?” He asks with predatory eyes as if he’s looking down at his prey, ready to strike with a matching smirk on his devious lips.

“Hmm.” Seonghwa teases, drawing out Hongjoong’s gaze again, an arm dropping from his neck to his waist, fingers gently clawing into his skin. “I am inclined to accept, Kim Hongjoong, though… I would like a sign to seal the agreement.” Seonghwa smirks back slyly.

Hongjoong is definitely not hiding his stare at the older’s lips by now, flicking up and down his face. 

“I would love to.”

With that, Hongjoong sweeps in, capturing Seonghwa’s plump lips between his, pulling the taller one down when his feet fully return to the ground, wondering if anyone’s lips could be as soft as Hwa’s, deciding no. ‘ He’s perfect. ’

If Seonghwa could describe their first kiss together in that moment, it probably wouldn’t make sense to the human ear. But as Hongjoong brushes his lips across his own, the closest he can get to is the butterflies and spark described in fairytales, but a hundred times more explosive, the sweet feeling running through his veins, replacing all he’s ever needed before with the man in front of him.

“Wow.” He cannot help but gasp as their lips separate, the word causing their lips to touch again slightly and Hongjoong to chuckle.

“Mine.” Is all the younger says before pouncing back in for another deeper kiss, this time running his tongue across the plush lips of the man above him who instantly lets the seam break open to allow for more access.

The sugary syrup emotion flowing through their bodies equally now, despite the possessive nips and harsh tugs on the older’s waist, making the moment seem a lot more innocent to their blinded emotions than the far more intimate scene anyone else might perceive. But they love it.

Gentle and harder tugs remain constant, Hongjoong pulling them flat against each other, then pulling away slightly to adjust his hand and then back again. Eventually, he guides them back to his bunk, the few steps fiendishly difficult when he’s trying to focus on exploring his lover’s mouth, but they make it in time. When he is able to knock the elder’s knees against the mattress, Hongjoong takes his chance to pull away and– dear God–

Seonghwa’s lips are red and puffy (which may or may not make Hongjoong feel very proud of himself), his cheeks flushed a beautiful pink while his eyes– Hongjoong cannot stop staring at the black irises looking back at him, glazed like a precious object, only for Hongjoong to see.

Whether or not he is completely infatuated is a simple question to Hongjoong: yes. With his whole soul, he’d feed this man his every essence, worship him if he had to, oh so willingly.

Cautiously dipping his hand under the t-shirt to feel his warm, bare waist, Seonghwa leans back down for another brush of their lips.

“Joong–” He starts, breath hitching when he meets the leader’s eyes–

“Say that again, Choi San!” A piercing yell thunders throughout the entire dorm. ‘ What on earth is Wooyoung shouting about? ’

“I said,” San’s voice starts, just as loudly as Wooyoung’s, “I’ve liked you for years you nitwit!”

At that Seonghwa’s pretty sure he can hear the crickets ringing in the background at the stunned silence that looms over the dorm over the coming seconds, just to be destroyed by another yell: “You idiot! I’ve liked you for years too!” Soon followed by a door slam and– “Choi San! Come back here and be my boyfriend for God’s sake!”

“Wha– Really?!” San shouts back across the dorm.

“Yes fucking really!” The younger shrieks back, opening and slamming a door again before heavy and uncaring footsteps run down the hall. “Sannie-ah! Let’s date!”

With no more footsteps or yelling, Seonghwa assumes the event is over and slowly turns his head back from the door to look at his boyfriend (oh he’s never going to get used to that butterfly) giggling into his palm, one hand still teasingly just inside his shirt.

“I was speculating on when those two would confess.” Hongjoong admits through calming himself.

“Me too.” Seonghwa replies fondly, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend again. “But I was thinking more about how I want to cuddle with my boyfriend instead.” He reveals, never losing eye contact with the younger, who raises a brow.

“Well, what are you waiting for, then?” He asks, pulling away from their press together. “Get changed and meet me in your bunk.”

Seonghwa enthusiastically bounces to their wardrobe, changing as fast as he possibly can into his nightwear, almost tripping in the process. When he deems himself presentable, he climbs the ladder to his bunk where Hongjoong sits, waiting for him, as ever, with open arms. Seonghwa cannot contain himself and flings himself at his boyfriend who slips them under the covers, their limbs entwining naturally.

That night, Seonghwa sleeps better than he has in years. Perhaps it’s the warmth of the comforter, or the softness of changed sheets… but he cannot deny the fact that it is most probably sleeping in the arms of his beloved, snuggled into his chest and the pair of lips that casually peck him on the forehead throughout the night.

Seonghwa has never felt more at home.

He’s never felt more happy, either.

But that doesn’t compare to being loved by the one man who loves him back.