Archive of Our Own

'Cause on that last night
Instead of looking for a fight
I should have looked you in the eyes
'Cause what it really was was me begging

Don't forget you love me

- Don't Forget You Love Me ; Calum Hood

Let's get one thing straight: Dylan and Jun do not hate hate each other.

They fight a lot, snap at each other, drag each other through the mud any chance they get; but they don't really hate the other. They're both members of MARS at the end of the day and underneath all that fight and all those insults, they've established a quiet, strange sort of friendship since debut. 

Dylan will yell at Jun and bully him into going to bed, Jun will call out Dylan's unhealthy working habits by annoying him into going home. 
It's a friendship that doesn't need words, because neither party is good at talking about their feelings.

That's to say, it's not that strange for Dylan to be the first one to notice something off with Jun. 
The younger is becoming quieter by the day it seems, something he used to pray for - now that he's actually shutting up for once, Dylan wants to take it all back. 

Faced with a silently brooding Jun, he suddenly misses all those brainless jokes and flirty remarks, something he never thought possible. 

Jun is always too much, too loud, too big; all of a sudden, he's too little and it's unsettling Dylan so damn much.

He even tries to get Jun out of this shell he's retreated into those days, but nothing he tries really reaches through - neither insults nor compliments seem to register, each and every comment swallowed by this mute haze in Jun's eyes. 

Dylan grows to despise whatever's taken over the younger so fucking much.

He wants to scream, to cry, to shake Jun until he spits out what happened. 

He wants to make it better, because they're still friends, right? 
And friends take care of each other, but Jun's not letting him in and it's so fucking frustrating, he regularly feels the urge to bang his head against the wall.

Dylan's phone vibrates on the desk, where he threw it hours ago when entering the studio. He's got a track to finish though, a song to prepare for MARS, and he ignores it.
Whoever's calling him, they'll have to wait.

Silence. 

Then, the vibrating picks up again. Someone's really desperate to reach him, huh? 
Must be Thame asking about a date with Po again, Dylan thinks with a shake of his head.
Their leader is so innocent when it comes to matters of love, it's actually cute. 

Again, his phone starts vibrating. 
Now, Dylan pauses his work and goes to pick up, growing concerned. 

Did something happen? Nobody in their right mind would call three times in a row if it wasn't something important.

It's Jun.

"Hey jackass, I'm working", Dylan says when he picks up, completely out of habit. 
He waits, hoping for a miracle to have happened - for Jun to snap at him like he usually does, for him to say something so stupid and cheesy, something only the Jun he wants to come back so badly would come up with.

No miracle happens, no sudden change of the younger's strange mood. His voice is strained, tired and brittle around the edges.
"Can you pick me up? Filming finished."

Concern gnaws at Dylan's nerves. "Didn't you drive there?", he asks, "What happened?"

A pause, heavy and uncomfortable. 
Dylan wants to tear it apart, wants to just ask what the fuck's up with Jun, but he can't bring himself to. 

It feels wrong, being this sincere, with someone he's spent close to two years fighting over everything and nothing with; he fears it would shatter their admittedly strained friendship.

"I'm really tired. Can you just drive me?" Jun makes a sad little attempt at his signature snicker. It goes badly and comes out sounding more like a poorly stifled sob.
"I'll pay you for gas, I just really can't drive home now. I wouldn't have called you if I wasn't sure I'll end up on the news if I get on the road now."

"Alright, I'll come, give me a minute. I gotta get to my car - send me the location?"
Dylan turns off his monitor and gathers his bag in a swift movement, far more eager to leave than he'll ever admit. 

He's just really concerned about Jun, as any good friend would be.

Dylan arrives at the site twenty-three minutes later, two minutes earlier than he estimated when taking off.

The series Jun's starring in is something action-themed, the set located at a little river in the vicinity of the city is big and really impressive to the non-actor eyes. There are even a few burnt cars as props, lined up at the side of the place now that filming's wrapped up for the day. 
Dylan can't help admiring the work on these cars - they look so realistic, as if they really were in a fire and not just manipulated for the series' optics.

When the amount of time he's spent waiting in the car comes close to ten minutes, Dylan unbuckles and gets out with a sigh to go find his bandmate. 
Jun's car is still parked a little further off, so he can't have changed his mind and left.
If he did that, Dylan would not forgive him.

Running a hand through his hair, Dylan approaches the crew members lounging on camping chairs near the burnt cars, chatting away among themselves. They're holding cameras and notepads, leading him to suspect they're part of the staff responsible for filming. 

Maybe they've seen Jun; the set is so big and bustling with movement, he really doesn't want to go on a Jun-hunt amidst all these people.

"Hello", he calls out when he's close enough and bows, "I'm here to pick up a friend. Have you seen Jun?"

The woman who's had her back to him is the first to turn and return his greeting, answering: "Jun is still with the director, they're discussing scenes. I can show you, if you want to."
She smiles, revealing bunny teeth and a tongue piercing that Dylan did not expect from someone so slender and cutesy-looking. 
"That would be great, thank you", he says.

As he follows the woman across the set towards the riverbank where tents have been set up to create makeshift-offices, she continuously steals side-glances at him, which is honestly a little unsettling. 

Do I have something on my face? Did Jun tell them something embarrassing about me?

Apparently, he's not so good at hiding his anxiety, because she drops her gaze to the grass beneath their shoes and takes a deep breath.
"Sorry for staring, I know it's weird, I just- You're Dylan from MARS, aren't you?"

Ah, so a fan of the band. That makes sense.

"Yes, I am. Are you a fan?"

"Oh no no, I just..." She trails off, laughing awkwardly. 
The tent they've been walking towards is so close now, Dylan can make out muffled voices. 
"Honestly, I didn't even know MARS until I got to work with Jun and he told me about the band. Your music is awesome though, you're all very talented."
It's genuine, that shy smile she wears, and it warms Dylan's heart.

"I was just thinking, I get it now - why Jun always talks about how handsome you are. I thought he was exaggerating but now that I see you for real..." 
It seems to settle in that she just called Dylan handsome - to his face no less - and a blush rushes up her cheeks so quickly, it's impressive.

"We're here, have a nice evening, bye", she squeaks and darts off, leaving Dylan to grapple with not one but two mind-blowing revelations:

One, Jun talks about him on a regular basis, so regular in fact that even random crew members have heard it.
Two, he thinks Dylan's handsome?!

Before he can devolve into a full-blown crisis and question everything he's ever thought of the younger, said man comes stumbling out the tent Dylan's standing in front of. He's very obviously very tired, dark circles under his eyes and hastily wiped make-up smudged across his cheeks.
There's even a bit of lipstick on his teeth when he speaks, pulling Dylan from the depths of his baffled musings.

"You're here." It's small and relieved and tugs at the rapper's heart in a way nothing Jun has ever done before did. 
It's fondness, suddenly taking the place of frustration and annoyance. 
It's a whiplash so harsh, Dylan barely manages to bite back the surprised squawk building in his throat.

Today, he decides, is one hell of a weird day.

"Of course, I told you I'm coming, idiot." There's no real bite in his words.

"Can we get the hell out of here?", Jun asks, "I feel like I'm going to collapse any minute now." 
He tries for some of his usually energetic personality, but all that translates into his face is exhaustion, plain and simple. He's so tired he really does feel like he'll topple over any moment and never get back up.

Dylan senses - or more like sees it in his face - the truth behind Jun's words.
"Sure, let's go. I'm parked down there." He points over his shoulder towards the vague direction of his car.

The walk there is silent, safe for Jun's shallow panting which is really starting to worry Dylan because honestly, it sounds borderline painful. 
Is he that tired? Or about to have a panic attack right here, in the middle of the set, with no one but Dylan to help?

Please, please don't, the silver-haired begs, he's completely unequipped for such situations!

Thankfully, they make it to Dylan's car without any incidents.
The older unlocks it and opens the passenger door because frankly, Jun looks like he doesn't have any energy left at this point.

"What about your car?" He suddenly remembers Jun's vehicle, which is still parked close by.

Jun falls into the passenger seat unceremoniously and shrugs.
"I'll take a taxi tomorrow and just drive home in the evening, no problem. Others do it too."

"Alright, let's get you home then."

The drive is awkwardly silent, with Dylan stealing tentative glances at Jun and the latter stubbornly refusing to lift his gaze from his hands, which he's fisted into his sweatpants, grip so tight his knuckles have turned white. 
Something's still off with him.

Even when running on far too little sleep and caffeine as sole fuel, the Jun of even just a week ago would've been poking fun at Dylan the entire way back or singing along to whatever song's on the radio or blabbering on about the gossip on set. 
The Jun of those two years Dylan has known him now is all motion and excitement and cheekiness. He's infuriatingly cocky and confident and never holds his tongue, even when it would be beneficial to do so. 

The Jun who debuted alongside him as a part of MARS is allergic to silence and lives to annoy the negative feelings out of anyone in his vicinity.

The Jun of today, which is apparently the new norm, is all sad and tired eyes. 
He trembles when no one's looking and retreats into himself the moment the camera shuts off, fleeing from something only he can name. 

The Jun sat in Dylan's passenger seat right now is so pitiful, it actually physically hurts the older to watch.

Dylan heaves a relieved sigh once he parks at the group house, glad to have survived that particular brand of uncomfortable quiet. 

Jun gets out of the car without a word, eyes still downcast as he trails behind the rapper and enters the house.
The other members are nowhere to be seen when Dylan walks into the kitchen and he vaguely recalls Thame having made plans with Po, while Pepper had an MC job to work on today. He's probably back at Gam's now, celebrating a successful gig.
And Nano's asleep because it's 11pm and he's a baby, no matter how vehemently he denies the accusations.

It's just the two eldest members now, it seems.

Jun shuffles into the room minutes later and pulls out a chair, slumping onto the dining table the moment he's sat. 
His shoulders shake faintly and Dylan freezes for a split second, panic rushing through him. 
Shit, is Jun crying?

But he's apparently not, because Jun lifts his head again and looks at the older with sleepy, deliriously tired eyes. 
He's so pale - is he sick? 

Dylan resists the urge to walk over and check his temperature; that would be weird considering they've never had the kind of relationship that included vulnerability.
Jun and Dylan are all snarky comments and friendly bullying that sometimes escalates into true fights but always ends in a truce. 
Jun and Dylan do not talk about feelings or health or personal matters.
They just don't.

Thus, Dylan attempts to put his concern into making two cups of much-needed tea. Something to soothe their nerves because he's fucking anxious and so is Jun, probably.

"Dylan?"
"Mhm?", Dylan hums. He turns on the kettle and pulls two tea bags from the pantry.

"Do you think... I'm a bad person?"

The silver-haired freezes, one hand on the counter holding the tea, the other in mid-air to close the pantry door. 
Slowly, he puts down the tea and turns around to face Jun, mind stumbling and begging him to bolt right fucking now. He's never been a genius at emotional confrontations, not when they're verbal, he much prefers writing about feelings.
But now, he has to talk about complicated feelings. 
It's terrifying.

"Where did that come from?" He attempts a light tone, even as his palms become so sweaty, he loses his grip on the counter's edge. "Is the Jun feeling self-conscious?"

It's an out he offers - a chance for Jun to retreat and choose not to lay himself bare before Dylan if he doesn't truly want to. 
(The older can't tell if he prefers Jun to speak or stay silent, can't tell which is worse and won't dwell on it.)

Jun doesn't take it. 

He swallows, hard, and his left leg begins to bounce under the table, a habit of his that used to prompt fights with Dylan all the time when they were still getting to know each other. Dylan used to find the constant bounce, bounce, bounce so annoying, he'd regularly yell at Jun. 
It's still fucking with his head, that noise and movement like a metronome in the silence, but he's come to understand the younger can't control it, even when he genuinely tries to keep still.

"Just tell me. Am I a bad person?"

Dylan pauses. 

Is Jun a bad person? No.
He goes about offering help in strange ways and likes to mess with people, but is he genuinely cruel or unfair? No, quite the opposite actually. 

Dylan still remembers that time he nearly punched Thame out of anger - Jun didn't beat him to it because he wanted to hit their leader as he claimed afterwards. He was just making sure Dylan wouldn't do something he'd regret, caring for his bandmates in that roundabout way of his.
Also, Jun has a lot less strength in his arms than Dylan, meaning he probably also saved Thame a lot of pain by being the one to land the blow.

There was also that entire Po-debacle.
Jun risked his career for Po, placing the blame for Thame's rebellion on his own shoulders to spare Po ONER's anger. And he tried so hard to help Thame realize his feelings for the director, doing everything to get them together and save them any potential heartbreak.

His methods are questionable and puzzling at times, but he delivers results without fail and always acts with his friends' best interests in mind.

So no, Jun's not a bad person.

"You aren't", Dylan says, trying to figure out how to best word his feelings. 
Oh, how he longs for a pen and paper right now. Writing things out is just so much easier than actually saying them out loud.

"You're an annoying jerk most days, but even I can tell you care for others a lot. Whatever happened to make you think that, let me tell you, it's not true. You're not a bad person."
That wasn't half bad - his sentences made actual sense even.

"But I hurt you. I hurt all of my friends." Tears have gathered in the corners of Jun's eyes and he tries to blink them away before giving up and wiping them with the sleeve of his sweater. "I'm the worst."

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" That came out a lot more harshly than he meant it, ouch.

Dylan winces at his own tone and rushes to elaborate.
"What's wrong to get you like this? Did something happen?"
Dylan feels like his heart's going to jump from his chest any moment now. It's scary, Jun being this vulnerable around him.

"I'm an asshole, that's what happened", Jun says. It's bitter and filled with self-loathing.
"I've been such a jerk to so many people and now that MARS is back together I just- I just-" He falters. 

When did Jun become so small, Dylan wonders distantly. Here, at the table, he looks so tiny and unsure of himself, so entirely different from the Jun in interviews and on the stage.

"I can't just pretend everything's okay. I can't act anymore and it's been driving me insane."

"Why don't you just apologize to whoever it is?", Dylan asks. 

Dylan has always been a hot-headed person.
He'll blow up over the smallest things on bad days and confrontations have become a regular occurrence in his life, something as natural as breathing. He rarely means the things he says in the heat of the moment, but he feels guilty about it nonetheless. 

Being like this - someone with a malfunctioning brain-to-mouth filter that seems to turn off anytime things get heated - means he's got experience in apologizing and saying sorry.
He means it every single time, genuinely feeling bad once he's cooled off, and with people as close to him as MARS, expressing his guilt and accepting the forgiveness offered to him have become an easy thing. 
They all know he doesn't mean the things he throws at them when he's angry or tired or stressed and he in turn knows they understand he truly feels bad and wants to make it up to them.
They don't accept his attempts at apologizing out of courtesy, they truly do forgive him. And he's so damn grateful for that.

That's to say, apologizing comes naturally to Dylan.
It's the first logical step to take when he feels like he's been unfair or too much, and he genuinely doesn't expect Jun's reaction at his suggestion.

The younger freezes for a solid ten seconds, then he admits in a quiet voice: "I don't know how."

"Huh?"

"I don't know how I'm supposed to apologize", Jun repeats, "It's not like I deserve forgiveness for the things I've said. How do I even begin to tell them-"
He cuts off and drags a palm down his tired face, groaning something incomprehensible.

The tea kettle whistling saves Dylan from breaking into a cold sweat at the looming threat of a heart-to-heart conversation with Jun of all people, and he goes about preparing two cups of tea with shaking, sweaty hands. 
Knees weak, arms spaghetti and all that.

Finally, he can't put it off any longer and takes a seat next to Jun, offering the second mug and taking a sip of his own drink. It's pleasantly warm, but does little to calm his nerves.

"You can't just decide they won't forgive you before even telling them", he says eventually, surprising himself with how steady his voice is, "You need to try first. Tell them you're sorry and let them decide for themselves if they want to accept it or not."

Jun, too, takes a sip of tea. The quiet in the kitchen is pleasant, now that they're actually talking about things and Dylan isn't left to worry over the younger's sudden personality shift on his own anymore. 
At least now he knows it was guilt that flipped the switch and turned off Jun's insufferable persona.

"How do I apologize? I've- I've never done it before." 
Jun's hands grip the mug so tightly, the veins on his arms are popping out, knuckles a startling white against the tan of his skin.

Dylan is floored.
"What do you mean, you've never apologized? Not even once?" 
Maybe he was wrong - maybe Jun truly is a bad person, because what the actual fuck? How can someone go 22 years without saying they're sorry even once?

The brown-haired shrinks even further into his seat, gaze pinned to the dining table.
"There was just- It just never came up", he mumbles, "It always just... worked out. I didn't have many friends and with Thame, we always just... we moved on. There wasn't really time to hold grudges, we were trainees and then members of MARS and I guess- I guess we never really fought, too."

That's true. 
Thame and Jun had a really casual and laid-back relationship as far as Dylan could tell, at least before Po arrived and started turning things upside down. But even while their leader was punch drunk on love and Jun was busy being a menace, they always found back to each other's side without a word. 
So yeah, maybe Jun never needed to apologize with Thame. 

But there has to have been some point in his life when he had to admit he was in the wrong, right?

"And you never did anything wrong?"
Dylan can't help the scepticism from sneaking into his tone, raising an eyebrow. He can count at least 12 instances in which Jun was very much wrong or a bit of an asshole towards him.
"There was never a time when you felt guilty over something you did? What the fuck Jun, that's not okay. I know you've been in the wrong, I've been there myself."

Is the younger really that oblivious to his own actions? So high on his self-confidence that he doesn't even know he's hurt Dylan more times than he can count? 
It was usually reciprocated just as fiercely by the rapper, but still - Jun is no angel.
He's had plenty of situations where he definitely should've been saying sorry.

Jun squirms and finally looks up to meet Dylan's gaze. His eyes are clouded with something dark and he's close to tears again, his voice strained.

"Of course, I'm a jerk and I know it. I'm self-aware enough for that. It's just that... no one ever taught me how and then it always just passed and I never got around to saying it and now... Now I can't sleep and work anymore and it's all I can think about, it's everywhere - I fucking hate myself, Dylan."

"Jun-"

"I know I should apologize to Po, I said so many cruel things when he didn't even do anything to me, I need to say sorry to everyone actually, and I can't figure out how to do that because how do you even say you're sorry when you pretty much destroyed someone! There's no way he'll ever forgive me and then I'll just be stuck living like this, feeling like absolute shit and there's nothing I can do because I don't really deserve to feel better anyway, right?"
Jun's shoulders are shaking with how fast he's breathing, eyes erratically darting left and right as if he's desperately searching for an exit.

"No one ever taught me to say sorry, Dylan. I really can't- I can't even start to say it."

Words fail Dylan then, and he acts on instinct - an instinct which he hasn't been aware of until now - pulling Jun into a slightly awkward side-hug. 
It's not the best response, he knows, there should be something wise and mature coming from him, but really, his mind's empty right now.

All he knows is he wants to help Jun somehow, any way he can. 

He wants to tell him he deserves forgiveness, because he does, and it hurts to hear him say he doesn't when he's so obviously sorry for whatever he's done.

Jun buries himself in Dylan's shoulder, finally allowing the tears to spill and soak through the rapper's expensive sweater. 

How long they stay in that embrace, Dylan can't tell; all he knows is the pained breathing of the body pressed flush against his and the intermitted sobs that break the silence. Eventually, Jun's crying dies down to a few small sobs, but Dylan doesn't stop running his hand through the mob of brown hair, his other palm drawing circles on his back in an unconscious pattern.

"They never taught me or my sister to make up after a fight", Jun says against the skin on Dylan's neck, his words muffled but still understandable. Dylan doesn't have the heart to push him off, even when the breath tickles him, opting to continue drawing on Jun's back instead and periodically patting his hair. 
"My dad was always working and mom would just lock us in our rooms until we cool off, that was about it. We never had to shake hands and say sorry or anything. And then I was already in school and I did many wrong things and there were tons of people I should've apologized to but I didn't know how to start. And the moment would pass and... And I never said it. Now look at me, I'm an adult and I still can't do it, I'm so fucking- it's so stupid."

Dylan's heart drops.
He never considered Jun to be someone who struggled with his feelings - with how open and affectionate he is, you'd think he's practiced in the art of saying whatever's on his mind. 

But maybe, a voice creeps into his thoughts, maybe that was all an act? Maybe those were never his true feelings?
It unsettles him a lot more than he'll admit, the idea of someone in such close proximity fooling him all this time.

Jun doesn't speak again and Dylan can't figure out something to say, so they sit in silence. 

The silver-haired is still drawing on Jun's back, patting his hair, humming under his breath without even realizing, while his thoughts race left to right. 
Where to best start? Should he even start? Or should he get Jun to bed and pray he doesn't remember this encounter by tomorrow? 

No, Dylan isn't someone who runs from conflict, always priding himself on being someone who faces even difficult confrontations head-on. 

He'll stay, even now, when his heart is leaping in his throat with anxiety. 
He'll stay, because Dylan Zhou is not a coward.

(Because Dylan Zhou just realized he cares for Jun so damn much it's kind of scary.)

They enter Jun's bedroom just as his digital alarm clock jumps from 11:51 to 11:52. Nearly midnight, and Dylan is decidedly not tired anymore after that rollercoaster.

Jun shuffles over to the bed and sits, dazed eyes staring off into the void.
He hasn't said a word, not yet, and Dylan can't bring himself to say anything, either.

It scares him, how fragile the younger has become in just a few hours - it's not that Dylan thinks Jun's some kind of pitiful little flower, but he finds himself desperately wanting to avoid upsetting him further nonetheless. 
It's his own protective streak that prompts him to consider his every move twice over now, when he'd have smacked Jun and called him a jerk a week ago.

Dylan turns and closes the bedroom door, freezing in the room afterwards. 
Should he leave? Stay? Wait for Jun to fall asleep and leave then?

"How do you do it?", Jun asks all of a sudden, "How do you apologize?"

That leaves Dylan floundering about for a bit. What is he even supposed to say now? 
Okay, breathe, he reminds himself, one step at a time.
He'll figure it out along the way, alright.

"Can I sit?" He points to the bed and Jun nods. 
Dylan takes a seat beside him, leaving just enough space for it to not be awkward. 

They don't look at each other, even when Jun clarifies in that insecure tone he's been using way too much today: "I know I need to do this. I don't want to mess up, MARS doesn't deserve that. Po doesn't, either. He's been putting up with me for so long. Can you- Can you help me?"
Any other day, Dylan would be cackling in victorious glee at the sight of the Jun asking him for help, but today, that victory is painfully hollow. 

It feels less like a win and more like a loss for some reason.

"Well", he starts, trying to figure out how to go about this, "You should think about what you want to apologize for first, I guess. Knowing what it is you're sorry for can help you find a way to make it up to the other person. I'm guessing you want to apologize for getting between Thame and Po?"

To his surprise, Jun shakes his head.
"No - I mean yes, that too. But..." He bites his lip and averts his gaze again. "I said something to him, something I really shouldn't have done. That's what I want to apologize for to Po. As for the other members... There's something with each of them that I need to make up for still."

Distantly, Dylan finds himself wondering what Jun will apologize for to him - as far as he's concerned, they've always fought tit for tat, which makes guilt kind of redundant in his mind.

"That's great. Now, usually I just talk to them. Being straightforward is a lot more sincere than beating around the bush."

"So... I should just tell Po that I'm- I'm sorry?" Jun's fists clench around the bedsheets.

He's nervous, scared even, and Dylan wishes he could understand him better, wishes he could see just what the younger sees so he can comfort him properly.

"Mhm. You can see his reaction and go from there."

"Is there even any use, though?", Jun asks, "How could he ever forgive me?" 
Whatever composure he's gathered dissolves swiftly and Dylan is faced with his bandmate on the verge of breaking down once more.
"I was such an asshole, Dylan. You know what I told him? You know what fucking shit I said? I told him Thame won't like a 'big guy' like him - do you realize just how fucking cruel I was? He didn't deserve that, I fucked with his self esteem like that and now I'm asking for his forgiveness? Isn't that too shameless?"

Dylan is beginning to understand the true issue, the underlying root of Jun's situation: He's afraid of rejection, afraid of Po refusing to accept his apology, because he genuinely believes he doesn't deserve it. 
It hurts, to realize Jun thinks so little of himself, he isn't even willing to give himself a chance. 

And maybe Po won't forgive him at first, maybe he'll be too hurt to think about it just yet, but Dylan knows, the older isn't one to hold a grudge.
He's kind and soft and knows Jun well, better than the rest of MARS combined probably, and he truly cares for Jun. 
That much is painfully obvious from Po's actions and words, but Dylan is beginning to suspect his bandmate is completely blind to affection and appreciation the moment it's directed at himself.

He's starting to realize a lot of things about Jun and it's becoming kind of a lot to take in just one evening.

"You can't decide that for him", Dylan says eventually, "You can't just put words in Po's mouth without even giving him a chance to hear you. That's not fair." 
He means it - it's not fair, neither to Po nor to Jun. 
Yes, Jun is scared and worried and obviously struggling with non-existent self-confidence, but denying Po the chance to accept or refuse his apology is just unfair to the director too, he deserves to decide for himself. Anyone deserves to choose whether to forgive or keep holding onto their pain. 

Jun has to understand that. 
He has to see that his own suffering is affecting those around him too - and he has to decide whether he'll keep going like this or try and make a change.

"You can't know how Po will react upfront. And you might be completely wrong - maybe he's already forgiven you long ago. Isn't it unfair to assume the worst of him? He's a kind person, yet you put cruel words in his mouth without even giving him a chance to prove you otherwise. Jun, you won't get out of this. Not without facing Po and being honest with him."

Jun looks up for the first time since they've entered his bedroom - his dark brown eyes are wide and glassy, his cheeks flushed and stained with tears, both dried and fresh. 

Even at his lowest, he's still beautiful and it hits Dylan so unexpectedly, he has to lean back a bit. 
Just to get some distance between them.

"Is it... is it really like that?", he asks, voice strained with fear, "Am I really doing that?"
"I swear, I never meant to insult him, I just... Just... Po is amazing, of course he is, I really do think that he is, I swear-"

"Then why are you still afraid of him? If he's a good person, he'll be kind to you, too. There's nothing to fear."
Dylan's words are rushed and they don't make sense to his own ringing ears - but judging by Jun's response, they were just right. 

And that is something he's really grateful for.

The younger slumps forward, bringing one hand up to drag it through his tousled hair, shoulders shaking with a deep exhale.
"You're right", he whispers through the lump in his throat, "You're right. Po will be fair. Po's always fair."

"See?" Dylan gives him a tentative smile. "You'll be fine. You can trust his reaction, whatever it'll be, is deserved. And-"

He hesitates. Is this going too far?

They've never been the type of friends to be there for each other during hard times, at least not with seriousness. Of course, they support each other just as much as they support the other three members, too. 
But where Jun will pull Thame into a bone-crushing hug whenever he's crying, he'll poke fun at Dylan until he's forced out of his slump.
And where Dylan sits with Pepper through every argument with the latter's girlfriend Gam, he'll kick and slap Jun (not hard, of course, just playfully) when he notices the younger falling into that special dark place he sometimes retreats to. 

They don't do tender. They do jokes and insults and arguments. 

But Jun needs this right now - he needs someone by his side. 
Dylan will gladly be that someone for now.

"-I'll be with you the entire time. I'll stay with you if you want, I'll be there. Just for safety, you know?"
Inwardly, Dylan cringes at his own voice breaking in nervosity; outwardly, his ears turn crimson red.

Jun doesn't notice, can't notice, as he's blinded by a rush of tears.

As he fully devolves into sobs that break Dylan's heart into tiny little pieces, he flings himself forward and wraps his arms around the older in a crushing hug. 
Their chests collide almost painfully, Jun's shoulder digging into Dylan's collarbone, yet he can't bring himself to push the younger off when he's crying so softly and trembling all over. Instead, he pats his back for the second time in just one day and gets back to running a hand through his brown hair. 

It's soft and smells like grapefruit - Jun's latest find, a limited edition shampoo of some ridiculously overprized brand.

If Dylan didn't fight particularly hard when Jun asked if he could stay that night, no one has to know. 
Officially, Jun wouldn't let him go and that's why they wake up in each other's arms the next morning.

(He loved it. He spent hours just relishing the feeling of Jun snuggling up against him, burying his face in his shoulder and wrapping his arms around Dylan's waist. He watched Jun's face as the sun crept past the window in the morning, mesmerized by the way the light caught on puffy skin and messy hair. No one will ever know.)

He himself doesn't know what it means just yet.

"Hey Po, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Hm? Oh sure, let me just finish this section." Po offers a smile and swiftly wraps up his work as Jun nervously bounces beside him. 
"Alright, all done. Fire away."

"Can I- Can I sit?"
When Po nods, Jun takes a seat across the table from MARS' director, his left leg already bouncing up and down in his usual nervous habit that always ticks Dylan off. 
Strangely enough, the thought of Dylan scoffing at the repetitive behaviour, complaining: "Can't you just sit still for once? It's distracting, jackass!" helps calm him down. The rapper's annoyed grimace sticks in his mind, almost like a marker to keep reminding him of Dylan's words two days ago.

You'll be fine. You can trust his reaction, whatever it'll be, is deserved.

He can trust Po.

"Uhm", Jun starts, "I'm sorry in advance for being so inexperienced in what I'm about to say, haha." He chuckles and it sounds incredibly awkward even to his own ears. 
"But I guess I've got to just uh- get it over with."

Po nods, his eyes are kind and understanding. 
It has Jun reeling, the way Po still offers kindness when he's been treating him like absolute shit.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Po."

There, it's out. It's said and now he's left to tremble in anxiety and wait, vulnerable and exposed. 
He wishes he could run away right now.

"I'm sorry for how I acted all this time. And I'm sorry for- for what I said that time. You know, about Thame not- not liking... Guys like you. I didn't mean it. I know that's not an excuse, I don't want it to be - I know I crossed the line. I just... I wanted to actually apologize for being such a jerk. I was... angry. And jealous. And again, that's- that's not an excuse. I don't expect you to forgive me. But I had to tell you."

"You- You were jealous? Of me?", Po asks, stunned.

Why this is the part he got stuck on, god knows.
All Jun knows is this is why he didn't allow Dylan to come along, even though he could've used the emotional support.

"Did you... Do you like Thame?"

"What- No!" Oh god damnit no, that's awfully far off, ew, no, Thame's his best friend!
"No, no, please! I love Thame, but it's like- like a little brother!"

"I wasn't jealous of your relationship with Thame", he repeats a little quieter, "Not Thame. I was... I was jealous of your love. Of how easy it was for you, when I've been heartbroken for two fucking years and counting- And I know it's not right to put my hurt on you, I was such an asshole for doing that. I'm sorry, I'm- I understand if you don't want to forgive me. It's okay."

It'll tear him apart, slowly and painfully.
But it's okay. 
He'll manage, because even daring to ask for forgiveness is more than he deserves.

"Hey, Jun." Po leans over the table, seeking out Jun's gaze. 
His eyes are bright and sparkly and Jun can easily see why Thame fell for him, even if his own preferences include narrow eyes and permanent frowns that make those eyes look even tinier than they are- No, none of that now.

"Breathe. It's okay. I've forgiven you a long time ago, actually."

The world stops and tilts to the left for a moment. It's a crazily disorienting sensation and it steals Jun's breath away.

Po takes the opportunity to continue, his voice smooth and steady.

"I'm not going to lie and say it was okay. I was hurt, and for a long time, I just couldn't understand why you'd aim for the kill just like that, without any warning whatsoever. But I'd never shut you out just because of that." Po chuckles. "Honestly, I'm kinda surprised this is what you got so hung up over - not all those times you flirted with me or got in between Thame and me, because those things annoyed both of us more than that one comment. They were a lot more prominent than this one instance to me."

Oh.
He's been drawing conclusions on others based purely on his own feelings again, hasn't he? 
Jun really is self-absorbed. Utterly, disgustingly selfish and ignorant. 

Just because he has no confidence in his own appearance doesn't mean Po will agonize over it for months, of course. 
Stupid, stupid.

"Uhm", he forces out, "Sorry about that too. I wasn't- I was trying to save you both the heartache, but I guess just because my love life is shitty doesn't mean yours will turn out that way too. I should have had more faith in Thame and you. Really, I'm sorry."

Po smiles in that gentle way only he can, with his entire body and those dark eyes that seem to brighten up the entire office space. 
Thame has really good taste in men.

"Thanks, Jun. I know you were doing this to help MARS."

But he never helped, did he? He only made things all the more complicated with his fragile ego and messy heart.

"Actually", Po says, leaning back in his chair once more, "I kind of forgave you the moment I realized just how much MARS means to you, too. Because, that was when I knew you'd never hurt any of them without a good reason to. You were trying to protect Thame and yes, it was unnecessary and you could've gone about it differently, but in the end your intentions were good. That's what's most important to me personally, anyways."

While Jun is still rebooting and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future, mind busy processing everything, Po gets up, walks around the desk and spreads his arms with a goofy little grin.

"Hug?", he asks.

(Nobody has to know Jun cried into the older's shoulder that day.)

Jun's still riding the high of finally letting go of part of his guilt two days later and decides he'll make use of this energy boost by tackling the next conversation on his list. 

Being forgiven - actually saying things like "I'm sorry" and "I was wrong" - feels like a hot shower after a particularly intense work out. 
He's so relaxed and energetic, so happy and light. 

It's addicting, almost, the realization that he's been a jerk and now he feels like shit but he can actually do something about it. 
Like, he can actually change that. So much control, so much power, it's scary almost.

He meets Thame at the arcade in the evening, after a recording session for MARS' upcoming song. 
It's funny almost, how every single emotionally charged encounter he's had with the leader so far has taken place between beeping games and screaming little kids. 

When they fought over Po, they were at the arcade. 
When Thame was heartbroken because his mom didn't congratulate him on getting into the band - an asshole move on her part that Jun will never forgive - they played at the arcade until the younger's tears dried. 

This is the home of their friendship.
Its origin and the place they'll always circle back to.

It feels almost symbolic, to say what he's been trying to get out for so long in this very place.

Jun will make up for all the times he should've ended a hangout here with an apology. 
He'll make up for everything he's done to Thame, and for everything he's never said too.

They sit beside each other, waiting for the racing game to start. When the countdown flashes across both screens, Jun can feel sweat trickle down his nape. 
It's nerve-wracking and he once again wants to run away and never face Thame again.

But he doesn't, because Dylan's hug and his hand in Jun's hair are still ever-present in his mind, a blanket of comfort he can pull from the cupboards of his heart anytime his anxiety gets to him.

Thame takes the lead, his hands gripping the steering wheel lazily, while Jun's own hold on for dear life.

He gathers his courage, takes a deep breath and blurts out: "I'm sorry, Thame."

The younger jolts in surprise and nearly steers his car into the grass at the side of the road, a green splotch that isn't even rendered.
The racing game isn't the most modern of the arcade - but it's their game. The one they used to play for hours back in their trainee days.

"What do you mean?"

Jun keeps his eyes on the screen, well aware of how quickly he'll be bolting out the door if he so much as tries to meet Thame's inquisitive gaze. 
"I'm sorry for all the shit I pulled. For how I got between you and Po. It wasn't fair, I'm your best friend, I should have been rooting for you."

"Ah, that." Thame swerves his car and accelerates while Jun has quite literally forgotten he's supposed to be driving anymore, his car on the screen losing speed as he fails to do just about anything.
His heart is racing with fear, he feels queasy.

"I talked to Po about it, actually. We understand you were worried about our relationship. Besides..." He crosses the finish line, two seconds before Jun does, too. "You can't control who you have feelings for. I'm sorry, too, for the entire uh- thing between Po and you."

There's badly hidden possessiveness in the way Thame looks at his friend, but the domineering emotion in his eyes is understanding - something Jun still can't believe he actually deserves.
It still feels wrong, to be forgiven so easily.
Nothing ever comes easy to him - it unsettles him, drives up his anxiety to unsustainable heights that burn him out despite the adrenaline boost of Po forgiving him.

Right, Po. There's still the common misunderstanding among MARS that Jun has feelings for Po.
Up until now, he hasn't bothered to clear those misconceptions, out of the simple reason that it's convenient, easier.
It offers a shield he can hide his true feelings behind. Nobody questions the nature of his actions when they're fully convinced they know the target of his pining.

Now, however? Now, Jun finds himself wanting to explain. To be honest.
Maybe it's the overwhelmingly positive outcome of his conversation with Po that has him becoming bold with his own feelings.
He shifts in his seat until he's facing his friend.

Thame's eyes are not unlike Po's, he idly notices, in that they are just as expressive and shiny, but a lot darker and more determined, focused.

"I never liked Po."

Thame blinks. Blinks again. Furrows his brows. Opens his mouth, just to close it again. "Huh?"

"I never liked Po. It's true that- that I was jealous of you. Just not... Not in that way."
Words fail Jun, an experience he's become familiar with these past few days, yet it still feels like failure that leaves behind a bitter taste. His entire gimmick is his quick wit and now he's losing even that.
"I was jealous and scared of how easy it was for you. You just met... and then bam, you were head over heels for each other."

Thame still stares, as if the entire foundation of his beliefs has just been shattered.

Jun's leg starts bouncing, he doesn't even notice, can't control it.
"I-I was worried you'd get hurt because of, you know, we're idols and all that and everything was so strict and, and... And I was so damn hurt because you got to love him and he loves you back and I'm just... stuck. It was a shitty move on my part. I'm really sorry, Thame."

"Aw Jun, why didn't you say something?" Thame, to the older's surprise and mild concern, laughs.
It's genuine and doesn't seek to mock the other.

"We're friends, dude! I was so worked up and felt so bad for being jealous of my best friend - and you're telling me we were never competing now? Seriously, that's like the best news I've gotten since Po became my boyfriend."

He looks at Jun, really looks at him, and places his hand on the latter's bouncing knee, which stills at the touch. 

"I'm so fucking glad I didn't hurt you, Jun. I was so scared the thing with Po would affect our friendship, that you'd be too sad to keep being around me. Which I would have understood, but I wouldn't have liked it. Not one bit. Because you're my best friend."

(Jun cries again, hidden behind flashing arcade lighting, and he's so fucking happy because Thame is still his friend and they're okay now. They're actually okay.)

Unlike the resident lovebirds, Jun's conversation with Pepper is kick-started by the younger himself.
He finds Jun at the dining table in the group house, slurping down a cup of instant ramen, and leans against the chair to his left.

"Can we talk for a second?"

Jun chokes on his bite.

This... this is uncharted territory.
Pepper could spring anything on him now - a new song, a promotional event, a band breakup, insults, anything.
It's a stark contrast to the two times Jun has said that very same sentence now, because this time, it's not him who's in control of the situation. It's Pepper.

And not even Dylan's phantom touches can bring him down from his anxiety-high now.

"S-sure", he forces out and puts down the chopsticks. They roll off the table, his hands too shaky to actually put them away, and he has to awkwardly crawl under the table to retrieve them while Pepper takes a seat.

Cheeks burning with adrenaline and embarrassment, Jun sits down again and Pepper sighs.

"Jun, I have to apologize to you."

Now that's an interesting spin on things.
Jun can't for the life of him think of even one single instance where Pepper has wronged him. The singer is so gentle and composed, the brain of the band, and it's definitely Jun who needs to apologize because he's hurt Pepper.

"What-what for?", he has half the mind to ask, "You didn't do anything wrong?" It comes out less sure than he is of his statement.

"It's less about what I did and more about what I didn't do", Pepper says solemnly, "I never looked long enough to realize you were hurting too this entire time. I thought you were just being a jerk, getting between Po and Thame and messing with ONER. But I see now how much you care. I should've seen it sooner. That's what I want to apologize for."

Jun can't even think in words anymore.

When did he become this prominent in the other's lives?
He always thought that aside from Thame, the members of MARS simply tolerate him.
He's part of the band, he chips in with whatever measly talents he has, he annoys them and quietly takes care of issues before the others really notice them. He works behind the scenes, he's a shadow at the edge of four shining stars.

For Pepper to be so concerned with him of all people, is something nothing could've prepared him for. 
"You- you- Wait. What? How did you come to this... this conclusion?"

Pepper smiles. It's not his usual joyful grin, the gummy smile fans are always falling head over heels for, but a subdued little flicker.
"I talked to Po", he admits, "I don't even remember how we got to that topic, to be honest, but he told me we were all wrong - that you never liked him. And he also showed me the editing work you did during the crisis with MARS and everything. No one even knew you were working so hard, Jun. And we should have known."

"I never told you though", Jun protests, "It was my choice to keep it private. It was just- I was just helping Po out after all!"

"We should've noticed. We're your family, Jun. MARS should have realized you were the one fixing things and buying us chances."

Never once during their fight to hold MARS together did Jun think he was being given less credit than he deserved.
He worked hard, yes, but wasn't that kind of expected when he didn't have the talent to keep up? The others worked just as hard - they sang and danced and wrote music, they gave it their all in their own way.

Jun simply did what he does best; he used connections and favours and weaselled himself into important decisions to buy MARS more time, another shot, their freedom, anything. He didn't do it for the praise or recognition, he simply did it because he wanted MARS to stay together and this was the only way he could be useful. There wasn't really time to think of the pay-off or other's attention, he was always stuck in a limbo state between "just finished work" and "just started work".

"I was just... I was just trying to save MARS. We all were, it was nothing special."

"It should've been."

With Pepper, it's always simple as that. He comes in, says what he means to say, leaves. There's no room for doubt in his words, because Pepper is honest and sincere to a fault.
Jun used to envy this ability of his, but lately, he now realizes, he's been less jealous of the younger.

Lately, he's been saying things he really means, too.

"I have to apologize too", he says.

Something's stuck in his throat, something that squeezes his voice on the way to his lips and thins it out until it's barely recognizable.
"I flirted with Gam and when Dylan called me out, I didn't even say sorry properly. I was a coward- I-I should've checked with her before hitting on her."
He could've just asked if she's taken - Gam wouldn't even have had to reveal her relationship with Pepper, she would've probably just said "Sorry, I have a partner" and he would've backed off. But no, he just had to go the extra mile and very publicly and mercilessly flirt with his friend's girlfriend.

Jun still feels like shit whenever he has to look Gam in the eye.

"Hey, she's gorgeous. Of course you'd try your luck with her." Pepper winks at him. "Besides, Gam could've said something too. It wasn't that big of a deal."

"And- and Gam?" Oh, that's been haunting Jun frequently ever since Pepper and Gam came over to the group house that one day - What if he made the woman genuinely uncomfortable with his advances? What if she was too scared to tell him off? Did he cross a line and never even notice?
"Did she ever mention anything that- that I made her uncomfortable?"

"Dude, Gam is a grown woman. She would have told you." Pepper's deadpan voice is rare to come across, the singer scarcely showing off his blunt side.
It's exactly what Jun needs to be shaken from his dark spiral.

"She thought it was cute, actually. Told me she knows you've got your eyes on someone, so she didn't read much into it. She's always been the smarter one between us, it's no surprise she knew from the first moment you like someone else, even when we didn't know at all."

Jun is surprised to find himself able to roll his eyes and complain "Ugh, stop bragging about your girlfriend, we get it, she's awesome" considering how wrecked his mind is at present.
He's pretty sure his synapses are currently experiencing a very vivid short circuit with how quickly his thoughts and emotions flicker left to right.

Everything is crumbling, his entire worldview upended in just a few minutes. Again.
As if the talks he had with Thame and Po didn't already mess with his balance.
(He refuses to think about the conversation with Dylan.)

"Do you, though?", Pepper asks, propping his chin on his arms, folded on top of the dining table, "Have your eyes on someone, I mean. I've been meaning to ask you about it ever since Gam mentioned it. She said it's obvious but I honestly don't have a clue."

Again, Jun is glad to have denied Dylan's offer of emotional support. He'd die of embarrassment and shame if the rapper was standing at his side now.
"I do", he admits, because if there's one thing the past days have taught him, it's that honesty is a beautiful thing that can feel so freeing, it's addictive and exhilarating.

"Oh do tell, who is it?" Pepper leans forward, eyes glinting with dangerously teasing interest.

Jun's first instinct is to run as far away as possible, whispers of betrayal and mockery flooding his senses.
"He'll tell", that familiar voice says, "He'll tell the others and they'll have a good laugh about it. They'll hate you and laugh at you."

In the end your intentions were good. That's what's most important to me personally, anyways.

I wouldn't have liked it. Not one bit. Because you're my best friend.

He has to remind himself that these people are his family - they wouldn't hurt him. They won't be cruel, they won't mock him behind his back.
It's just nerves, just that nagging voice that sounds so distinctly familiar, middle-aged and female, with a deeper undertone.

Don't think about it. Ignore it. It's okay, they're MARS. Your friends. Your brothers.

Still, he allows himself a thin safety-net, asking: "Can you... can you not tell anyone?"

"Of course. Why would I? I kind of figured it's a secret already." Pepper's eyes crinkle with a good-natured smile. "I'm not that dumb, you know!"

They talk for hours at the table, Jun's ramen forgotten and cold.
Those months they spent in suspension between disbandment and revival, they come back around in their conversation.

Pepper admits he never stopped having nightmares about Thame going to Korea and everyone drifting away again, never stopped fearing the loneliness he experienced during the period of estrangement. Even Gam's presence couldn't fill the void losing his family left.
Jun finds himself opening up as well, hesitantly admitting he was lonely too. He even talks about the time he spent in the group house on his own, all those weeks he haunted the empty building without anyone to come back and comfort him.

"Damn, I wish I'd seen all your effort back then too", Pepper sighs when they finally pack up, the clock on the wall reading 11:39 at night, "You're really the backbone of MARS, huh?"

(Jun doesn't answer, can't, he's choking on a sob he has to muffle with his palm clasped over his mouth. Maybe Pepper notices, because he doesn't push, just yawns and trudges off to bed with a last good night wish.)

Nano. Their youngest, the boy they watched grow up throughout two years; from a wide-eyed country-boy who marvelled at the sight of skyscrapers to a seasoned performer with a loyal fanbase.
He's their little one, except he's not so little anymore.

In fact, he's probably the most grown-up among the five of them.

There's a lot Jun would like to tell him, a lot he still has to make up for when it comes to his treatment of Nano.
He's always coddled their youngest, tried his best to shield him from any unpleasant sides the entertainment industry revealed to them. He babied him, without ever asking Nano if he wanted to be treated like a kid. 

Thus, Jun has a lot to apologize for - good thing he's got practice by now.
Even though he's still sure the only thing keeping him going is that lingering deep, raspy voice he refuses to name because that would just be so much more embarrassing than it already is.
(It's Dylan. Of course it's Dylan, it's always him.)

He finds his opportunity at a private conversation the day after he apologized to Pepper, when Nano asks him to stay behind to work on a part of the new choreography. Jun's been too distracted to get a hang of new things lately, mind swirling with grey and black and words, voices that alternate between deep tones and shrieking heights.

Nano sits him down and makes him wait in the corner of the practice room like a disobedient toddler as the other members of MARS filter out of the room. Dylan's the last to leave, sending Jun an encouraging smile over his shoulder.
Then he's gone too and the door shuts, leaving Nano and Jun in suffocating silence.

"Alrighty, let's get this thing going!", Nano declares and claps, far more energetically than Jun can even pretend to be right now.
He's still knee-deep in the dark sea lapping at the edges of his mind and the mere thought of moving his body is torturing.

Besides, he's got something else to do first.

"Nano", he calls out before the youngest can press play on the music again, "Can we- can we talk first?"

He pauses, looks up in confusion. "Sure? What's the matter?"

Jun gets up and shuffles over to Nano, every single step an effort, almost painful with how his body seems to refuse to cooperate. All that thinking and emotional work he's been doing the past few days is finally catching up, not just mentally but physically as well.

"I-I need to apologize, Nano."

They're face to face now, the way they should've been long ago already.

Jun has always looked down on the younger in the sense that he saw him as small, young, helpless even.
Now, he nervously meets the youngest member's gaze and all he can see in those eyes is power.

Determination, experience, a fire that warms him from head to toe with the realization that Nano is a man. And he's been treating him as a little boy all this time, because it was easier. It was always easier to lock away his feelings, his problems, and justify it with things like "he's too young to understand" or "he's our baby, I need to protect him".

But Nano never asked for protection. 

"Did you eat my cookies?", Nano asks, scandalized. "I knew it, it couldn't be Pepper! He wouldn't have left the wrappers in the cabinet!"

His mock-fury, however, fades swiftly when Jun remains serious.

"I always thought you were the baby of the band. You-you were so young when we debuted and I never... It just never caught up to me that you grew up, I guess. I never asked if you wanted to be protected, I-"
Jun wrings his hands, desperate for the right words. Somehow, his failure to be smooth and quick-witted stings all the more when it's in front of someone so much younger than him.
And now he's doing it again, isn't he?
Judging Nano based on his age alone, when he knows damn well he's far sharper than Jun, far wittier. Jun fucking hates how easily he slips into the very thought-pattern he's trying to apologize for at the very moment.
He's just stupid, isn't he? Hopelessly idiotic.

"I told myself you were too small to get everything. But- but actually, it was just easier. It was easier to not say anything about... you know, about-about everything." He gestures desperately, wishing for the words to just come flying to him.
"I shouldn't have taken the easy way out. I shouldn't have made you feel babied and like a kid just- just because I can't talk about my feelings. I wanted to help you, protect you I guess, but I never... never asked if you want to be protected. I'm sorry."

Nano looks at him, no trace of his usual teasing smiles and dimples, and Jun's heart plummets. He fucked up, didn't he?

"Oh Jun."

The room spins left, then right, then stops abruptly.
Jun wonders if he's going to pass out right now, just like that. That'd be kind of pathetic.

"Thank you", Nano says.
It's sincere and it wraps around the older like a blanket, warming him back up before he can even notice how cold he felt.

"You know", the youngest continues almost wistfully, "I never thought much about my age. I'm the youngest and shortest and - I'm just the smallest of MARS. It was never more than that. But then, MARS was dying and I realized... Y'all never lean on me. You expect me to share my worries with you, while the four of you just shut me out anytime things get tough. I was so furious when I realized, I don't have anything except for MARS' music. Like, all I was doing was singing and dancing. Anything else, anything behind the scenes, you just handled it and told me to focus on the music."

Jun feels bitterness creep up his throat at the memories of how he used to treat Nano. He used to shoo him away, when he should've asked him to stay, to help with editing or vocal practice or finances. He should've asked for his opinion, his input.
He failed as an older brother, didn't he?

"I'm so sorry", he forces out because he knows he'll start crying any minute now and then he won't ever get to say everything he should've said so much sooner already, "I failed you, didn't I? I'm supposed to be your big brother, I'm supposed to help you. Really- I'm- fuck, I'm so sorry, Nano. You mean so much to me, to us, please- please don't think we didn't value your opinion. We were trying to protect you, to help you, but we should've included you too and- it- I'm sorry."

"Hey. Jun." There's a small palm on his shoulder.

"Breathe, Jun. You didn't fail me. Not at all. You were trying your best. I know that and I don't hold it against you. Just... let's work together from now on, please? I'm part of MARS too. And I want to be part of every aspect of MARS, not just the good ones."

Jun can't even begin to count all the times he's pulled Nano into a hug during MARS' career.
Award shows, filming, practice, lounging on the couch back at the group house.
He's hugged the youngest during sad moments, during their proudest moments, when he was simply bored and craved warmth.
He's hugged Nano tightly and loosely, he's cradled him like the priceless treasure he is, he's carried him on his shoulders, he's grabbed him like a disobedient puppy and carried him off towards wherever.

This is the first time Nano hugs him first. It's the first time Nano is the one to initiate and control the hug, and it's jarring in its similarity to all those past moments, because it's similar but not the same. 

"Let's do it together. From now on", he promises in a whisper.

(Jun manages to wipe his tears before Nano can notice and they move on to dancing. Familiar territory, something to ground Jun and by the time they're sweaty and exhausted, he's calm again.)

Jun likes to tell himself he saved the best for last, that's why he's been pushing off talking to Dylan again.
The truth, however, is that he's way too scared to face the rapper.

They haven't talked one-on-one since that evening and Jun's been running like a coward all week, darting off anytime Dylan comes close to him because he's reeling and there's a desperate knot in his stomach every time they make eye-contact.

He can't put it off any longer. He wants to. He wants it to be over and to never happen at all. He wants to run and to stay.
He wants- he doesn't even know what he wants anymore.

Breathe, Jun, Nano's voice echoes in his mind as he knocks on the silver-haired's bedroom door.

From the living room, Pepper's and Gam's voices drift through the hallway, arguing playfully. Thame and Nano are washing the dishes of their group dinner, the youngest scolding their leader for using too much soap. Jun wishes he could be as carefree, as unburdened, as them.

"Come in", Dylan calls on the other side of the door. Jun takes a deep breath, opens the door and steps inside.

Dylan, lounging in his chair, headset dragged off his ears and controller tossed on the desk next to his pc, looks up quizzically.
"Yo, Jun", he greets, "What's the matter?"

How can you be this fucking calm can't you see I'm basically vibrating right now hey jackass stop being so fucking- ugh. Just stop, Jun begs silently. Stop it, Dylan.

"I- I talked to the others", is what he says. His voice is pathetic, but what's even worse is the knowledge that compared to his mental state, his voice is exceptionally stable and self-assured.
How fucking sad.

"We made up. I think. I wanted to- to thank you. For helping me I mean."

Dylan sits up straight, takes off the headset fully and swivels his chair around to face the younger. "So it went well?"
Why are you being so attentive, can't you just not care for god's sake this is even worse!

"Mhm." He couldn't say anything more if he tried. His voice has taken its leave at the first sight of Jun's hopeless panicking.

"That's great. All good now, then. See, I told you it would go well." Something in Dylan's voice is strained.
As if he's waiting for something, something he doesn't expect to happen but still hopes for.

It irritates Jun because he can't figure it out. He can't figure anything out when it concerns Dylan, actually.
Call it love is blind or whatever.

"Actually-" Ah, his voice is back, although still embarrassingly thin and brittle. "Actually, I'm not finished yet. There's still... one more. One more person."

"Oh."

Jun thinks back to that night.

To those arms, holding him when everything was falling apart.
To Dylan's rough voice, to the words that fed him courage he's been living off for a week now.

Dylan has always been his comfort, his motivation.
He's everything and even more than that.

He's the entire universe, the sun, the stars, the air Jun breathes.
Everything.

"I need to apologize to you too, Dylan. I-I hurt you, too. I hurt you so many times for so many petty reasons. And... And I never even wanted to. I was blind and stupid and I still am, but I promise, I'll-I'll try to be better. I'll be honest. I'll stop... I'll stop messing with you."

Even if it means Dylan will never look at him again. Jun is willing to stop chasing the high of being in Dylan's focus, if that's what it takes to be forgiven, to move on.
He knows now, that his actions can be forgiven.

And he desperately needs, wants, the older to forgive him.

Dylan looks at him, quietly, as if he's assessing him with his eyes only.

Then, he stands and walks up to Jun, cornering him, pushing him to walk backwards until he hits the wall. It's cold against Jun's back and he shivers.

Dylan doesn't even touch him, not even once. His mere gaze, his presence, is enough to have Jun moving at his commands like a marionette.

"You think you were the only one who crossed the line?", Dylan asks and his breath ghosts over Jun's lips; he's that close and even now it isn't enough.
Jun needs to taste those sinful lips.
He shouldn't be thinking about that right now. Can't. Can't stop either.

"I took out my anger on you, Jun. I hurt you just as much as you hurt me, because that's always been our thing, right? You give, I take, I throw it back. I didn't think anything of it, really. I'm not some fragile little kid that cries over one fight."

But I hurt you, I hurt you for such stupid reasons.

"I still did wrong", Jun refutes stubbornly, "I threw shit at you for selfish reasons and it's not okay."

"Alright."

Baffled, Jun realizes that Dylan just surrendered to him.
Is the world ending?

"I accept your apology, if you'll accept mine."

As if Jun would ever refuse something that comes from the older. He'd happily take the roasting of a lifetime if Dylan was the one delivering it.

Still, he's not done.

One more to go, he reminds himself, you can do it.
He doesn't believe himself, not one bit, but he speaks anyway, because Dylan deserves honesty.

"There's something else, too. I'm-I'm sorry I lied to you, Dylan."

Once it's out, there'll be no going back.
This... this could end MARS.
It could tear Jun to pieces.

"I'm sorry I lied to you when... when I told you I hate you. I never did. I- I- it's always been you, Dylan."

He can't look at him, can't breathe, can't move anymore.

"I never liked Po, because I've always..." Jun falters, breathes in, tries again.

"It's always been you I've loved, Dylan."

There, it's out. Now he can only await Dylan's judgement.

Dylan's hand moves up, a flash in the corner of Jun's lowered eyes, and for a split second, he's somewhere else, somewhere he'll never willingly return to.
He ducks instinctively, covers his face with his hands, a shield he knows would never be sufficient, yet he still tries, because hope is always the last to die.

But it never comes.

Instead, Dylan's hand grabs his jaw, not painfully tight, but soft, feathery. It sends sparks zinging up Jun's back.
His head is tilted back, eyes forced to meet Dylan's gaze and the world stops spinning, again, as the distance between them burns away, the ashes carried off by the older's breath ghosting over his lips.

Except this time, it's nowhere near unpleasant. It doesn't happen because Jun's about to pass out from sheer panic.

It happens because he's so desperate to live in this one single moment for the rest of his existence that he'd die happily for it.

He'd die just to feel Dylan's lips on his one more time, no need for it to last forever, actually.

Dylan pulls back and it's only because he's wrapped his other arm around Jun's waist that the singer doesn't crumble to the floor.

"Jun...", he whispers, dark and rough, "Wanna know something?"

Jun can only blink owlishly, mind blissfully empty for the first time in years.
The dark tide has receded, leaving behind nothing but pretty little seashells he can't wait to collect.

"All the songs I've written. Every single one. They're all about one person."

The rapper kisses him again. It's shorter, sweeter this time, leaves Jun wanting more, dizzy and hot all over.

"It's always been you for me, too."

Jun has cried a lot in the past week. He's cried of joy, of sadness, of worry and anxiety.
But only twice has he allowed someone else to witness his tears.

Once, he's cried in Dylan's arms, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and the water was swallowing him, no matter how desperately he swam for the shore.

Today, he cries in Dylan's arms and the world is bright, his heart soaring above the clouds, the sensation of plush lips on his own an anchor that keeps him safely tethered to the shore.

He knows the darkness isn't magically gone. The waves will come back to lap at his feet, whispering sweet nothings to him. They'll remind him of voices and hands, of hours spent in his bedroom, locked behind a door because he wasn't even worth the hassle of a fight.

But Dylan will always be there. 

He'll pull Jun back into his arms and they'll wait for the tide to recede again, together, and then they'll collect some more seashells and kiss under the moonlight.