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The dorm had never been that peculiarly silent. There would always be screams coming out of Beomgyu's room, frustration yells from his gaming sessions, where Soobin's laughter would fill in. There would be anime soundtracks playing from Kai's room. There'd be rap songs blasting out of the kitchen while Taehyun cooked. There'd be TV noises from the living room, even when no one was watching. But Yeonjun was all alone, with only the hum of the newly turned on electricity noises, as he stood with his bag on the ground and his shoes still on behind the door. He stood, staring at the vast, dim space, unable to erase the fact that he longed for that warmth again, the picture of domesticity in his head he couldn't get out.
He sighed.
Yeonjun just arrived back at his dorms, the first one to do so, after the break, right after his last trip to Sydney, so he could spend his January in summer. The long flight had given him an insurmountable amounts of jet lag, and the dead silence only echoed the point that he missed his friends. He wished he wasn't always so sentimental, letting his heart so easily affected by such small things.
As he took off his shoes and carried his bag to step inside, every corner of the apartment felt haunted, the stride taken to his room heavier. He tried his hardest to breathe and not break, not wanting to hassle himself with tears. When he sat on the edge of his bed, he shut his eyes close, hands gripping his sheets while he steadied his pulse.
Yeonjun had been the first one to arrive. As far as he remembered, Taehyun had promised him to come after his trip to Spain, arriving two days afterwards, and while Yeonjun told him to just enjoy his break without having to bother himself with going back ahead of the first schedule, Taehyun insisted to keep Yeonjun company, even after Yeonjun told Taehyun that he would be busy preparing for his end year solo comeback anyways. And he had contacted Kai, although the brat had the audacity to leave him on read for three days, before replying that he'd maximize his break and go back to the dorms last. Meanwhile, Beomgyu had told Yeonjun unprompted that he was going to be back first before Yeonjun, because "he missed the dorms and the members so bad," only for him to ditch the plans last minute and tell Yeonjun–again unprompted–that he had to accompany his parents on their family gathering. So, Yeonjun was all alone.
And Yeonjun hated being alone. The silence only allowed spaces for echoes of his thoughts, the one that always raced without stopping, thus he always tried to repress it using music and work and friends, though during times like those, he couldn't handle it, bear with it. But it's not like he had any other choice. He tried to make peace with it, reason with himself and told himself that he needed that time for his own to rest, to fully recover so he would be able to do his best again.
So, Yeonjun opened his eyes and got up, slowly making his way to take a towel from the closet. He took himself to shower, blasting the loudest music he recently enjoyed a lot. He sang his heart out, he danced under the shower. He felt the water's heat prickling up his skin, burning him over and over, but it's okay, because drenching himself in it felt like an eternity of contentment. When it was over, he distracted himself with little hums while he changed into his favorite sweater pajamas he had gotten for himself during Christmas.
But when he got out of his room to watch some trashy rom com in the living room, stood someone else. There was no way Yeonjun could forget that familiar figure, looking straight at Yeonjun, unmoving. Yeonjun could feel his heart drop, shattering into pieces on the ground.
"Soobin."
"Yeonjun hyung?"
"You didn't tell me you were coming back sooner."
"The management wants to discuss about our group schedules tomorrow all in a sudden."
Oh.
Soobin took off his shoes and dragged his bag with him.
Yeonjun was sure that he's wearing triple clothings, as he looked like a walking snowman, yet the tip of his nose was still clearly tinted red from the cold when he stood close to Yeonjun. And Yeonjun hated the fact that he wanted to tip toe and kiss that red away from his nose. Yeonjun looked at how simple Soobin was dressed, wearing a puffer jacket and a pair of his prescription glasses. And he hated how Soobin looked so damn flawlessly attractive without even having to try so hard.
And the elder could swear he hadn't yet turned on the heater, but warmth had spread across his skin, flushing him entirely, like a wildfire. He just looked, awkwardly. He hated how weak he was to the younger's silent charms, making his whole body pained just by standing in front of him.
Soobin looked at Yeonjun too. He didn't speak. He didn't say a thing. His eyes were just fixated on Yeonjun. It looked like there were so many things running in his mind, so much he itched to say, but he couldn't. Not with words, at least.
"Hyung."
"Yes?"
"You're standing in front of my bedroom."
Yeonjun stammered. "Oh, shit– oh, okay, sorry." He moved away and sat on the couch. He didn't know how he could forget that unresolved, undiffused tension still existed between himself and Soobin.
Because they had broken up. Not fully, just taking a break from each other, trying to let the distance heal the wound between them with longing.
Years of relationship crumbled in one night. Yeonjun had gone home drunk, after a session with his friends, carried by his manager. Soobin, who just happened to stay up all night in Yeonjun's room, just stood while he looked at Yeonjun's disheveled state. One incident let to another, and Soobin who had been fed up by the amount of pressure the company had given him, accidentally let his pent up anger to blow on Yeonjun.
("I'm just worried about you, Soobin. You should take a break, a hiatus even."
"And leave you?"
"I'm fine, Soobin-ah," replied Yeonjun. He hiccupped a little. "I'm alright, seriously. You need to rest."
"Look at the state of you," said Soobin. "Look at who's talking."
"Soobin–" Yeonjun tried to cradle Soobin's face, while looking at the younger with honey dripping gaze even while intoxicated, but quickly had his hand harshly slapped away. "Wha-"
"And what about the kids?!"
"They're no longer children, Soobie," answered Yeonjun. "They can take care of themselves. Besides, I can help you to be a replacement for a while–"
"And leave them with you? An alcoholic 'leader?' You're impossible to depend on, Yeonjun."
"Soobin–"
"You come home drunk every other night these days, and then tell me that you're worried if I'm overwhelmed from overworking myself! What about you, Yeonjun? Can't you see that you're sabotaging yourself as well?" yelled Soobin. "So hypocritical of you, Yeonjun."
"Can't I worry about you?! And why are you calling me incompetent?! I love you so much, Bin-ah, and I-"
"Worry about yourself, hyung," said Soobin, cold as he stormed off. "You can't even love yourself probably, let alone me." He gulped, eyes shooting sharp towards Yeonjun. "Don't you dare say that you care about me when you can't even do it to yourself." He slammed the door close.
And the next day, Soobin took himself to the therapist, only for him to be told to take his time. Soobin never called it quit, but he left Yeonjun a message that while he'd return, he wanted to pause his relationship with Yeonjun. And when Soobin was announced to take a hiatus from the company, the same day he immediately left to his hometown, Yeonjun still hadn't gotten the chance to apologize face to face.
The crack in the walls grew longer, and wider, gaps that were already there from some months prior were only fueled by misunderstandings, showing even clearer by then.)
Yeonjun crossed his legs while looking down, stimming on the hem of his sweater. He hadn't yet prepared an apology nor any statement of clarification. He wasn't ready to say anything to Soobin, to explain himself.
Soobin was already inside his bedroom, but Yeonjun still stilled. Yeonjun wished the fog could lift by itself. He wished the gaps in the walls would stop growing ivies on their own. Yeonjun was afraid of what was lying in front of him: the uncertainty bare.
The silence returned. The kind that made his ears ring and his heartbeat too loud to ignore. The air felt thick, heavier than before Soobin had arrived, as if the unspoken words between them had taken shape and settled in the living room he was dying in.
Yeonjun’s fingers tightened around the soft fabric of his sweater, rubbing at the threads until they began to fray. His throat felt dry, and yet he didn’t dare move—not even to get water. It felt wrong to do anything, like any sound would break the fragile truce of the moment.
He glanced at the closed door of Soobin’s room. The faint thud of a suitcase being unzipped came from behind it, followed by the soft rustle of fabric and hangers. The mundane noises were both comforting and torturous. Comforting because Soobin was there, close enough to touch if only Yeonjun dared. Torturous because he couldn’t.
He wanted to knock. Just once. To say 'hi' properly or 'do you want some ramyeon?' or 'I missed you, please don’t leave again.' But all that came out was a whisper, swallowed by the dorm’s stillness. “I’m sorry.”
Truth was Yeonjun couldn't deal with himself. Soobin was right about him exhausting himself, but he wanted so badly to shine to his full potential, allowing himself to burn the brightest as the star he was. He wanted to be seen for who he truly was, to pour his heart and soul out to his art, to shove all his blood, sweat, and tears to his works. But he had gotten to a point where he was floating just for the moment, unable to stay grounded.
And Yeonjun wanted to admit it, but he couldn't somehow, a tie on his tongue, a block on his fingers. So all the texts Yeonjun had sent Soobin were merely shallow as if testing the waters; 'happy new years!' and 'how are you?' and 'i hope your family's always healthy.' And Yeonjun had only called Soobin once, because Beomgyu kept nagging him to call Soobin because he might miss Yeonjun, although he wasn't sure Soobin would after all he's done. Soobin was never out of his reach, and that was more infuriating because with just a snap, he could be with him again, but at the same time, he was so caught up in his irrational fears.
Soobin’s door stayed closed.
"I'll just talk to him tomorrow," mumbled Yeonjun to himself, wanting to put his mind at ease first, so he opted for Wreck-it-Ralph 2 instead.
Yeonjun grew languid, reclining back on the couch, eyes burning, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight. Maybe if he just rested, things would feel less heavy. Maybe the next day, he’d find the right words to say. Maybe the next day, Soobin would smile at him again. Maybe the next day, the weight would cease to exist.
He must’ve fallen asleep there, because the next thing he knew he was leaning on a shoulder. The television was still on, screen playing the scene where Vanellope argued with Ralph because he was the one putting the virus in Vanellope's game only so he could be with her. There was a hand absentmindedly interlocked with his, thumb grazing over his knuckles mindlessly. The sounds from the television speakers hadn't died down yet, only lower by slight.
"Why do you always put on the TV when you're going to sleep halfway anyways?" asked Soobin. "You do realize we have to pay the electricity bills, right?"
Yeonjun froze. For a second, his brain couldn’t process the fact that Soobin was there—next to him, his voice quiet but real, his warmth seeping through the thin layer of his Minions t-shirt's fabric, setting Yeonjun's guts on fire. His body tensed instinctively, unsure whether to move or stay still, whether that was a dream he’d ruin by blinking too fast.
“Soobin…” His voice came out rough, half-asleep, half-afraid.
“Hmm?” Soobin hummed softly, eyes still on the screen of his phone, his tone casual—as if nothing between them had ever broken, as if the weeks apart and the words that tore through them were just bad weather that had already passed.
Yeonjun turned his head slightly. He could see the curve of Soobin’s jaw illuminated by the vivid light from the screen. His hair was slightly messy and half damp, probably the shower. His eyes sparkled a little, the slight twinkle from reflecting the glow. The faint rise and fall of his chest made Yeonjun’s heart ache.
"You know, sleeping like that will also probably cause your bones to bend. My doctor told me that keeping that sort of habit will make you end up on the wheelchairs the moment you hit sixty five."
Yeonjun scoffed. "As if I'd ever hit sixty five."
"Oh, you will," said Soobin, eyes shifting towards Yeonjun as he put away the phone he was scrolling on with the other hand. "And I'll make you suffer every single minute even past that age."
"How so?"
"With my irresistible cuteness and sexiness," answered Soobin as he posed, a smug grin painted across his face with his exuding confidence.
Yeonjun rolled his eyes, acting annoyed even when he secretly agreed at Soobin's statemenr that he was indeed cute and sexy.
Soobin laughed—a soft, restrained sound that still somehow filled the entire living room. It wasn’t loud, but it was real, the kind that scratched lightly at Yeonjun’s chest and left warmth spreading behind. Yeonjun didn’t realize he was staring with too much adoration and fondness until Soobin turned his head again, catching him in the act.
“What?” Soobin asked, feigning nonchalance but with a hint of shyness curling at the edge of his tone.
“Nothing,” Yeonjun said quickly, too quickly. He tried to look away, but his eyes refused to obey. The dim light from the TV flickered across Soobin’s face, painting his features in soft gradients of blue and pink. He looked both older and younger somehow—calmer, but with that same spark that made Yeonjun fall the first time.
How many times had Yeonjun fallen for Soobin? He did, again and again. He had chosen him, over and over. Soobin was the entire expanse of his universe, as it turned out; the sole existence that made him want to persist. Everything was romantic because everything was Soobin and Soobin was everything. He had fallen, irrevocably, again and again, head over heels. He had fallen, again and again, in love. I'm in love with you.
“Then stop looking at me like that,” Soobin murmured.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to re-memorize me.”
Yeonjun swallowed, but the lump on his throat wouldn't go away as he struggled to push it down. Soobin’s words had hit him like a summer rain—gentle, but devastating. Yeonjun’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His heart was hammering too fast, and he was terrified that if he just shifted ever so slightly, the fragile moment would break, the air between them would shatter into the same silence that had suffocated him earlier.
“I—” Yeonjun started, but his voice cracked before he could continue. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it off.
But Soobin was watching him then, really watching him. The way he always did when he wanted to understand something Yeonjun couldn’t say, with a quiet longing in his eyes. He glanced at Yeonjun, eyes seeking for some kind of truth, but not prying open with force–just gently, like he always would. "Are you?" He tightened his grip on Yeonjun's hand, a sign of hope, even though barely recognizable.
"I don't know."
Soobin smiled, accepting. He shrugged then shifted his gaze towards the screen. Yeonjun tried to lean on the couch, but Soobin had let go of his hand and moved to wrap his arm around Yeonjun's shoulders, slowly putting Yeonjun's head on his shoulder.
Yet Yeonjun couldn't take his eyes off Soobin. He didn't know why. They never broke it off properly, but Yeonjun thought of the possibility that they would never make it out back whole again. He thought of the probability that one day he'd get to watch Soobin walk down the aisle with the person he loved and would vow to spend the rest of his life with. And he hated it. Yeonjun was selfish, and he didn't want to share the gaze in Soobin's eyes that were once exclusively reserved for him. He wanted to keep Soobin by his side forever.
And Yeonjun thought about how much he had missed him. And how selfish of him for missing him so badly when he was the one who recommended the younger to take a rest, and spend his time with his family. Because his mind and heart were far too occupied with thoughts of him; an irreplaceable spot was filled with the ghosts of Soobin.
But Yeonjun wondered if Soobin thought the same as he did too. If he carried Yeonjun close to his every heart beats too, still. If his name was inscribed like a prayer on his mind too, still. If he ever had a place in his thoughts, too, still.
What'd it be like to hold Soobin's hand when he's wrinkled and old. What it'd be like to reside to a countryside home and sing their old songs with Soobin. What it'd be like to share their space and warmth under the duvets, while they talked all night until the sun rose. What it'd be like to have their hair white due to age, yet still see holding the world in each other's eyes. Yeonjun thought of all of that, all kinds of affection he could have with Soobin that would be impossible to attain if–
"Just kiss me, if you want. You know I'd never stop you from doing so." Soobin looked towards Yeonjun, reading him like a book. "You know how I feel about you right?"
"How so?" It slipped right off Yeonjun's tongue.
"This way." Soobin cupped Yeonjun's jaw, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips. "I love you, Yeonjun. I'm sorry."
Yeonjun didn’t breathe. He couldn’t. His eyes only widened as he was taken aback. His heart skipped a beat. It was like his first kiss with Soobin all over again, complete with the rush shooting in his veins, the surge of electricity in his nerves, the feverish heat consuming with his entirety.
The kiss was soft, almost fragile—like a memory that had somehow stepped into the present. It wasn’t desperate, or even searching. It was familiar, too painfully familiar. It was a kind of reminder, a reassurance. The kind of kiss that carried years’ worth of emotions condensed into a single heartbeat. Or had it been merely emotions and not feelings?
When Soobin pulled away, their foreheads lingered close, breaths mingling in the thin space between them. Yeonjun’s eyes blinked, but for a moment, he was afraid to look. Afraid that if he did, he’d find the guilt in Soobin’s eyes, or worse—the resignation. But when he did look again, all he saw was tenderness. Soft, aching tenderness.
It clicked then to Yeonjun.
How many times had Soobin fallen for Yeonjun? He did, again and again.
("You were the trainee that inspired me to pursue everything we have now, hyung.")
("If I was just half as pretty as you are, I'd die from my own beauty.")
("Why would I ever need anything in this world when I have you?")
("More than anything, I'm proud of you.")
("I know I don't have to protect you, but let me walk with you through everything.")
"Have I ever crossed your mind?" asked Yeonjun. "During the break, I thought about you all the time."
Soobin paused. There was a silence. A beat. A clock tick. He stayed still. "Always. You never left."
Soobin had always loved Yeonjun.
Yeonjun's breath hitched. He felt like his hard shell had been cracked open. Had it been somebody else, Yeonjun would never be able to feel that way.
The air trembled between them, their silence thick but not suffocating anymore—just… full. Full of what had been unsaid, full of what they’d tried to bury under time and distance and pride. And confusion, perhaps.
Yeonjun’s fingers twitched slightly, itching to reach out, to bridge the small space between them.
"I'm sorry, Soobin-ah." Tomorrow should be spent with them already resolved, Yeonjun decided then and there. So, he spoke his heart. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just worried about you, but I forgot that I was doing that to myself too and you were right."
"We've hurt each other, haven't we?" Things spoken in a haze; anger and intoxication brought forth the worst of them, making them say and do the things they hadn't mean to each other. "I'm sorry for letting my words get out of hand. I should've thought about what I was about to say, because I really didn't mean to call you incompetent and whatnot, since–truly–I was just really afraid of losing you."
“I didn’t think you’d say that,” Yeonjun whispered, almost to himself.
"What? Sorry?" Soobin tilted his head slightly, eyes searching. “Why not?”
“Because I thought…” Yeonjun swallowed, his gaze dropping to their hands resting close but not quite touching on the couch. “I thought I’d already lost you.”
A flicker of sadness passed through Soobin’s eyes, and then—softly, gently—he took Yeonjun’s hand again. “You never did." He gently placed a kiss on Yeonjun's forehead. "You never will." He gingerly planted a kiss on Yeonjun's cheeks he loved to nudge and squeeze. "Do you really think there's a life I'd want to live without you?" He paused. "I'm sorry for storming out like that, I shouldn't have pushed you away without giving you a chance to reason with me." He tucked a stray hair behind Yeonjun's ear. "Yeonjun hyung, I'm sorry. I really have been meaning to apologize to you the moment I stepped back here and saw you. I've planned it for weeks now, but I don't know why I'm always held back."
Yeonjun gulped. "I'm sorry. I should've explained myself sooner too. I should've told you that I haven't touched a hint of alcohol since then and I plan to drink moderately and responsibly. I should've come clean to you." Yeonjun let out a trembling exhale. "I love you, Soobin. You know that, right? You know that I'd never do anything to harm you, right?"
Soobin nodded. "Same goes to how I feel towards you, hyung."
The snow storm thrummed outside the window, painting white as contrast to the dark night sky. It was February, so it was the last bits of snow storms of the early year season. But it was not cold in their dorm, as their heaters were on and they were enveloped in each other's warmth.
That time, it was Yeonjun's turn to pull Soobin in. He took him by his nape, letting his lips taste Soobin's soft, plushed ones. Soobin still used the same lip balm Yeonjun bought him the year prior. He stilled for a while, letting himself sink in the moment, drowning in Soobin's essence, indulging in the moment. He didn't try to push further, for he just wanted to have himself connect to Soobin.
When Yeonjun pulled away, he cupped Soobin's face. "Let's work hard, but not overwork ourselves, okay?"
Soobin nodded.
Yeonjun had always worn his heart on his sleeve, for it was too big for his chest. It made him vulnerable, sure, but he had nothing to fear just then. He could let loose, he could submit it all. Because Soobin was the one he could trust to not hurt him like the world would. He smiled, fondly.
"I've missed you, Yeonjun hyung," stated Soobin. "I don't think you know how long I've waited to talk nonsense to you again." His gaze lingered.
"I miss you, too, Soobin. I think I spent most of my time thinking if we could go back to the way it was, back to us." Yeonjun kissed the tip of Soobin's nose. "You're too precious for me to lose, Binnie."
"As if I could live without you, Jjunie." Soobin huffed. "Of course, we can. Aren't we?"
Yeonjun nodded. For the first time in a long time, he felt relief washing over him. Because it was Soobin who sat before him. His Soobin. Yeonjun must've forgotten about how the north and south poles magnetically gravitated towards each other, because then he finally remembered that he could only incline to Soobin.
"You're too special for me to lose too, Yeonjun hyung." Soobin leaned in to press one last delicate kiss, before letting himself sink in the couch again and letting Yeonjun lay his head on his chest to continue watching the movie.
So many things could happen, as the future held so much they couldn't yet see. But they had long gone past through winters together, yet they persisted. Even if the world came to an end, a collapse, they knew they'd still anchor each other, the firm pillars to one another. There were going to be tons of uncertainties they would have to face, sure, but as long as they could hold each other, they'd be alright.
Because they're home. They're home. Finally.