Archive of Our Own

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Behind The Hits: Music Producer Eom Seonghyeon

For someone whose work dominates the charts, Eom Seonghyeon is surprisingly unassuming.

As the main producer behind one of the biggest idol groups in the country, Seonghyeon’s work has quietly shaped the sound of modern pop over the last few years. It is hard to not recognize the songs he produces. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, or you’re a hundred years old, it’s impossible to not know the wonderful and emotional songs the famous producer makes.

Seonghyeon’s songs are known for their emotional clarity— melodies that linger, lyrics that feel intimate even when performed in arenas filled with thousands of people. It just gives you goosebumps that last for minutes on end!

Fans of POLARIS often describe the group’s discography as comforting, the kind of music that seems to buzz in your blood, and understand just what you’re feeling before you do. It’s relatable, ground-breaking, and shakes the heart and mind. It can sound almost fairy-like, aligning perfectly with the group name and concept. Or, it can crush the listener in the palm of their hands.

It’s really no hit-wonder that Seonghyeon is their main producer.

Despite the success, he doesn’t quite carry himself like someone responsible for multiple chart-topping releases. When we meet him at a recording studio in Seoul, he arrives in a loose hoodie and sneakers, greeting the staff with a quiet nod before settling into a chair across the table. A laptop sits nearby, it’s screen still open to what looks like an unfinished arrangement.

Anyone who doesn’t know Seonghyeon might have brushed past him, thinking he looks just like an ordinary citizen. But for someone who puts soul into music and does it for a living, it’s clear his attention never drifts too far from the music. Even during the interview!

When asked about his success, he shrugs. “It’s just work, really,” he says.

Of course, fans might disagree. The boy group he produces for has topped charts for years now, and many listeners credit Seonghyeon’s songwriting and producing for the emotional core of their music. The talented Eom Seonghyeon is more humble than our reporters believed.

Or as the younger generation would say… nonchalant.

But when the conversation turns to the inspiration behind his work, Seonghyeon grows thoughtful.

Interviewer: Your songs are often praised for feeling very personal. Listeners say they can hear genuine emotion in them. Is that intentional?

Seonghyeon: I think people can tell when something is written honestly. Even if a song isn’t directly about your life, it still has to come from somewhere real, you know?

Interviewer: So you do draw from your own experiences when writing?

Seonghyeon: Sometimes!

Interviewer: Only sometimes?

Seonghyeon: (laughs) I think every songwriter borrows a little from their own life. It’s hard not to.

Interviewer: POLARIS’s songs often focus on love, longing, and relationships. Do you find those themes easier to write about?

Seonghyeon: Not really… but they're universal. Everyone understands those feelings in one way or another.

Interviewer: Then, does that make them easier?

Seonghyeon: Not easier. Just… much more familiar, I guess. I guess that’s why POLARIS’s songs are more relatable.

The producer speaks carefully, as if choosing his words the same way he might choose a lyric. We expect nothing less from a talented, musical genius like Seonghyeon himself.

Seonghyeon later shares a fun fact about himself. Because he’s the main producer for a K-pop boy group, of course the songs must be in the Korean language. Though, he sprinkles in a little English sometimes. “I’m not fluent in English like a native speaker, but sometimes the words just come out because I hear about them so much,” he adds.

When asked about his creative process, he explains that many songs begin with small moments. Fragments of memory, a line of conversation, or even just a feeling he can’t quite explain yet.

Those fragments eventually grow into melodies. And sometimes, entire songs.

Interviewer: Let’s spice things up a little with something different. If you had the chance to travel through time, would you go to the past or the future?

Seonghyeon pauses at the question. Really, the musical genius! For the first time during the interview, he looks genuinely caught off guard. What a funny sight, to see the calm and composed producer shaken up by such a juvenile question.

But if you’re reading this, Seonghyeon, don’t take it to heart. We’re just teasing.

Seonghyeon: That’s a big question.

Interviewer: A classic one, though. No?

Seonghyeon: Well, I guess most people would say the future.

Interviewer: Would you?

Seonghyeon: I… I’m not too sure.

Interviewer: Why not? Do tell.

Seonghyeon: If you go to the future, you might learn things you’re not ready to know yet.

Interviewer: If you put it that way, it does sound a little off-putting.

Seonghyeon: (laughs) Right?

Interviewer: What about the past, then?

Seonghyeon: (pauses) I mean, the past is dangerous too.

Interviewer: Because you might want to change something? And it might mess up the future?

Seonghyeon: Yeah.

Interviewer: Well then, would you go back to the past?

Seonghyeon: Yes, but I don’t think I’d change anything.

Interviewer: Then why go back?

Seonghyeon: I guess I’d just want a little more time.

Interviewer: More time?

Seonghyeon: Yeah.

Interviewer: For what?

The music producer’s smile is faint, one that suggests the answer belongs to him alone.

Seonghyeon: It’s a secret.

It’s a vague response, but somehow fitting for someone whose work often leaves listeners wondering who—or what—his songs are really about. Though, jumping onto that topic, I am sure we all know who is the muse behind genius producer Eom Seonghyeon’s songs.

It can be none other than Ahn Keonho, global rockstar of the band YOUNK.

And, as most fans already know, Seonghyeon’s longtime partner.

For those unfamiliar with the name (though we suspect that number is very small), YOUNK is one of the most prominent rock bands in the current music scene. Known for their electrifying performances and raw, emotional sound, the group has carved out a reputation very different from the polished world of idol pop.

At the center of it all is their frontman.

Ahn Keonho—lead singer, guitarist, and resident troublemaker mixed heart throb, depending on who you ask—is the kind of artist who seems born for the stage. With a voice that shifts effortlessly between rough-edged intensity and quiet vulnerability, Keonho has helped YOUNK build a discography that feels both rebellious and strangely intimate.

If POLARIS offers comfort through carefully crafted melodies, YOUNK crashes through speakers like a storm.

And yet, despite the stark difference in genres, the connection between the two musicians has never exactly been a secret.

Seonghyeon and Keonho confirmed their relationship publicly four years ago, and since then, the pair have become something of a favourite celebrity couple among fans. It’s not unusual to see clips of the famous rockstar attending POLARIS concerts, or the music producer quietly appearing outside of the performance area at YOUNK’s shows, waiting for a certain someone. Occasionally, the two even show up in each other’s social media posts, much to the delight—and chaos—of their combined fanbases.

Naturally, the internet has had plenty to say about that. But when we bring up Keonho’s name, Seonghyeon only smiles.

Interviewer: You and Ahn Keonho seem to move in very different musical circles. Idol pop and rock don’t always overlap. How did the two of you meet?

Seonghyeon: Through music, mostly.

Interviewer: Really? There must be something more than that.

Seonghyeon: (laughs) It’s true though. We were both recording in the same building a few years ago.

Interviewer: And you became friends after that?

Seonghyeon: Yeah. Something like that.

Interviewer: And eventually… more than friends.

Seonghyeon: Ahem. Well, yes.

Interviewer: Do you ever influence each other’s music?

Seonghyeon: I think every musician influences the people around them, whether they mean to or not.

Interviewer: That sounds like a producer’s answer.

Seonghyeon: Well, I am a producer.

Interviewer: So, should we expect a POLARIS rock album anytime soon?

Seonghyeon: (laughs) I think the fans might riot.

Interviewer: Fair enough.

The conversation winds down shortly after, with Seonghyeon checking the time on his phone and apologising softly—he still has work to finish before the evening ends. Another melody waiting to be completed, perhaps.

Before leaving, he thanks the staff politely and gathers his laptop, already glancing at the unfinished arrangement still open on the screen.

For someone whose songs have reached the ears of millions of listeners around the world, Eom Seonghyeon remains remarkably grounded. Quiet, thoughtful, and a little mysterious. Perhaps that mystery is part of what makes his music resonate so deeply.

Or perhaps, as he hinted earlier, the answer simply lies in the small moments— fragments of life that grow into melodies.

Either way, one thing is certain.

As long as Eom Seonghyeon continues writing songs, the world will keep listening to them.

There are multiple concepts in life that Seonghyeon is familiar with, and also a number of ones that he is wholly foreign to.

He is familiar with happiness, how the feeling bubbles up in his chest when he plays games with his sister, or when he’s out with his friends and he goes home feeling complete yet empty at the same time.

He is familiar with anxiety— the way it gnaws at his stomach with nowhere to go but upward, clawing and clawing until his chest burns and all he can feel is the aftermath of pain and ache left by anxiety’s wake.

He is familiar with wanting to do things he loves, to go ahead and pursue what makes him a person. He is familiar with the disappointment that follows after rejection, no matter what the cause or reason. He is familiar with sadness so deep and sharp, that the sheer of it leaves you hollow, a corpse carved out of it's contents, void of anything of meaning.

He is familiar with lots of things—a plethora of concepts Seonghyeon has encountered and experienced, those ideas that come to life.

But Eom Seonghyeon is unfamiliar with the concept of love.

The most rational part of him would argue that he does— that he knows what love is and how he can love and how the love returns back to him. He even writes songs about love. Though, the rare instances of that love coming back equal—or best yet, tenfold—extinguishes the flame of fight in him. It’s as if Seonghyeon is standing outside the circle, who is brave enough to step in, but not brave enough to stay in the open space that feels so enclosed still.

The irony of him producing songs centered around love when he himself can’t wrap his mind around it. How hilarious.

His experiences with love are not the worst. In fact, he has memorable experiences of them, moments where he feels the love given to him, and the gratitude he gets when he loves and loves. Seonghyeon would like to believe he’s a lovable person, and it could be the truth, with how he makes lifelong friends and actually decides to take time out of his hectic schedule to make plans to hang out or eat dinner.

With how he rushed out of his house, blood cold and his legs pushing him to run more—he had just came out of the shower too—all the way to James' place when he got a frantic call saying his idiotic hyung got into an incident at home, only for James' to shrug off the knife stabbed into his foot and making him sob in his arms out of fear… Seonghyeon thinks his love for his friends cannot be undermined.

But then, there are those days where he believes there’s a thin line of verity in his belief. Petty fights he gets into with his parents and sister, getting into arguments with friends that start small and end with doors closing a little too hard, voices raised just a little too high and makes him flinch. But those are nothing irreversible. Nothing that cannot be settled by the next morning.

It’s often the silence after a fight that unsettles Seonghyeon the most.

Tension too high, too thick and suffocating and stretching longer than he likes— it makes something unravel in his chest. Uneasiness, queasiness. Enveloping him like a second body. He absolutely despises when he's given the cold shoulder.

Seonghyeon knows love is there, that he can feel it’s presence and how warm it makes him feel.

But Seonghyeon also knows that love retreats at the first sign of discomfort, and it leaves behind something cold and uncertain in it’s place. That people can withdraw as soon as they feel that something is wrong, that everything isn't going their way.

And maybe that is the reason why he finds himself thinking too much on nights when he can’t fall asleep. He replays moments in his life over and over again, much like rewinding back in a film.

Love is such a strange concept, he thinks. And it is a truth Seonghyeon believes in, the one absolute he knows will never change.

Seonghyeon is a fan of absolutes. Something that he can be certain of, a belief that he knows will not alter and he can remember it from the back of his mind. Something unwavering and undoubtedly true that can ground him when everything around is black and wild and turbulent.

There are so many types of "I love you"s. How many have Seonghyeon come across throughout his lifetime?

His mother would greet him with an “I love you” every morning when he came downstairs for breakfast, back when he was still in high school. She would smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform and chide him for not ironing it properly the night before. Her fingers quick and precise as she adjusted the collar he had fixed twice that same morning. Her voice was warm as honey, proud like he wanted her to be, and soft in the way parents spoke when they believed their child was talented enough to deserve it.

Love is in the way she told him, “You’ll do well, you always do,” before sending him off to school. And he did. He did do well— at least, well enough to satisfy his parents’ expectations. He played the piano exactly the way his teachers liked and swept his fingers across the guitar strings so that his peers were impressed by his talent. He made sure that his playing was crisp and articulate, a cascade of bright, bell-like notes.

Love, Seonghyeon learns from his mother, was encouragement that came before a performance. Expectation wrapped in kindness, delivered to him in a touch as gentle as his mother’s voice.

But Seonghyeon also knows better. It meant don’t disappoint us

Later, his father would sit him down, and for a scant few seconds, Seonghyeon would think that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime father-son bonding time. Then, his father would tell him “I love you” after half an hour of lecturing him on his academic grades, how he can’t be complacent and fall behind, because how on earth would he survive later in life?

He should’ve known better than to get his hopes up.

“This can’t be the image you want others to see you as,” his father would say, and thirteen year old Seonghyeon, would ignorantly believe him. But the moment he bent those rules, thirteen year old Seonghyeon would tremble with his eyes wet with unshed tears, as a thin rope came slashing down on his open palms. His father would sear unrelenting red streaks onto his skin, and all Seonghyeon feels is utter bitterness as he absorbs in the pain and bites his lips, until he tastes metal on his tongue.

Love, he learns, is discipline. Love is endurance disguised in beauty and vibrant red. Seonghyeon learns that much when he hangs his head low, withdraws his hands with barely a shiver, and murmurs a small, timid apology for the nth time, that what he’s doing is love. Accept the punishment, accept the love. This is love, he told himself then, but the words had tasted like acrid on his tongue. The queasy feeling went away the next day when his father enveloped him in a hug and cooked him his favourite food, and Seonghyeon lied to himself once again—stupidly and foolishly—that this must be love.

His first music teacher told him, “I love this about you,” when Seonghyeon stayed behind after lessons, hunched over sheet music long after the rest of his peers had already gone home. She showered him in praise, told him that he was hardworking, and dedicated to his craft. He was credited when he was due—but only when he pushed himself harder than the day before, when his fingers were sore and his eyes burned from memorising music notes under the dim book light while the whole house was asleep.

Love is recognition. Love appears when the effort is visible, and the outcome is desirable. And Seonghyeon learns, with a hefty weight on his shoulders, that love is also this.

Love is recognition when he deserves it.

The members of POLARIS—god, he loves them, he does—would crush him with tight hugs and blurt out a wholehearted, “Love you, hyung,” whenever a song climbed the charts. The words landed with laughter and exhausted high-fives in cramped recording studios, thrown carelessly across mixing boards and empty coffee cups (half of them must belong to himself). They tell him that Seonghyeon-hyung saved the comeback again, that Seonghyeon-hyung is a musical genius, that Seonghyeon-hyung always knew what they needed for their music direction.

And he smiled when they said it. He knew how to adjust a melody until it sounded like a guaranteed hit, knew which chord would give the song the final touch. Love, in the studio, is something as trivial—yet meaningful—as gratitude. Love, as Seonghyeon learnt over the years being POLARIS’ producer, is something people say when you make them successful. Love just works like that. Give, and you take, take, take, until there’s nothing else.

And, truthfully, Seonghyeon has heard the words enough times to understand them. The three words that can be taken back easily. Love is approval, usefulness. Love means you have done something worthy of receiving it. Because, love is rarely given without a reason.

And when the reason disappears, so does the love.

But then, Keonho comes breaking down his walls, and becomes the very person who challenges every principle of love Seonghyeon has ever known.

Keonho would toss an, “I love you,” his way, like it was the easiest sentence in the world. Another tick for his checklist to do daily. The words land whenever, not just after accomplishments, pain, or happiness. An outlier among a sea of consistencies.

And it’s not because Seonghyeon had done something right either. As if careless—or carefree, it's hard to tell when it comes to him— Keonho just tells him straight up,

“Did you eat today? Love you!”

“Your new demo sounded good. I love you!”

“Come over later, ‘kay? Love you.”

Seonghyeon sees them in lazy texts, hears them from half-asleep phone calls from the man himself. He never tells anyone he buzzes with muted delight when the words slip out of Keonho’s lips themselves when they’re together in person. Keonho doesn’t squeeze the words in like he suspects other people do, and it makes Seonghyeon's heart swoop. He simply lets them slip between ordinary conversations, as if they had a place there, rightfully so. No expectations bleed from the words, no reward attached to them.

And he has no idea what it does to Seonghyeon. All he can hear is the quiet and plain certainty in Keonho’s voice, of someone who believes in what he’s saying and tosses the word around carelessly like a ball he can just bounce around.

It makes no sense to Seonghyeon at all.

Because love, as far as he has ever understood it—

Always has a reason.

And Keonho never seems to need one.

Maybe that's why Seonghyeon finds loving him dangerously easy. Not because Keonho demands affection from him, but because he gives it away first, freely and without hesitation, until Seonghyeon finds himself returning it instinctively. His hands move like muscle memory to clasp over Keonho's own, his eyes will swim over oceans of heads and soften at the sight of Keonho, and his lips will seek out Keonho's own when they're alone and shut away from the world.

Somewhere along the lines, Seonghyeon stopped noticing when his songs began filling traces of him too. It's unsurprising, though. He should've expected this coming. If he goes over POLARIS' discography, you'll definitely hear the instances where hints of Keonho can really shine through. Seonghyeon has no valid excuse, if he is being completely frank. It's normal for someone to want to express their love for their partner, and for him, it's through the form of music. It helps more that he's a producer as well.

He has written lyrics after listening to Keonho laugh too hard at something unfunny. He has crafted a melody shaped around late-night drives through Seoul with the windows rolled down and Keonho drumming careless rhythms against the steering wheel. Seonghyeon still remembers Keonho's hand resting on his thigh, warm and grounding. He has let a chorus be born from the fervour of waking up beside Keonho and thinking, with terrifying certainty: ah. So, this is what happiness is like.

Perhaps it's a secret, or unknown fact, that Keonho lingers everywhere in Seonghyeon's music. That the rockstar slithers into the pauses between each verse. That Seonghyeon will write him in the tenderness of certain lines that many fans have praised him for. That, in every love song that POLARIS has ever stood beneath stage lights to sing.

With how Seonghyeon mainly writes love songs, it does paint POLARIS in a… certain sort of light. Though, you can't blame him, their concept is also centered around romance and love and all the kinds of cliche stuff you can find on the internet, just bundled into one boy group. Their discography does include other genres of song, that do not involve any romance aspect. And, yes, the members also take part in the songwriting and producing. It's just that the love songs Seonghyeon was in charge of composing are more well-liked among fans for being so exceptionally profound and beautiful, so whenever he scrolls online, he mostly sees conversations gushing over his incredible lyricism.

The members know it too.

That's probably why they're teasing him now. They know enough to poke at his sides and get a reaction out of him.

Seonghyeon is in the recording studio, so is the whole group of POLARIS, and they are currently preparing for the boys' next comeback. The energy was high at the start, when everyone was on fire and excited to record and go over their track list. Now, the mood has dimmed, a little softer now that it's after midnight.

It's definitely not quiet—never quiet, not with how much energy these young men have even when they have darker eye bags than Seonghyeon—but the atmosphere has shifted, and he can feel the exhaustion seeping in, coming from the members. A few of them are dragging their words in the conversations they're sharing, and the last of them are tired to the point their response is just laughter. Everyone is sprawled across couches and studio floors with water bottles tipped over beside them, and lyric sheets crumpled beneath their shoes.

Seonghyeon likes the studio best at this hour. People are so guarded during the day, always keeping their walls up and locked. He prefers it when they stop performing versions of themselves, and—this has been proven by science—it usually happens at night. While it may seem like a creepy thought, Seonghyeon would like to argue that he likes it better when people are more honest with themselves, and others. It puts him more at ease, especially when he's in the mood for producing songs.

Across the room, Bon-Hwa is half-asleep against the armrest of the couch, eyes closed while Seonghyeon absentmindedly replays the chorus they have spent nearly two hours rerecording and mastering. Fatigue is slowly crawling up to him as well, or maybe the members' exhaustion is contagious. Korain and Hajoon are dissolved in and out of conversation somewhere, complaining about how hoarse their throats are and that their vocals keep straining. Beside them, Sooho and Chanhee are lying over each other, limbs tangled with one another, arguing over convenience store snacks in hushed voices so as to not cause a ruckus.

It's normal, comfortable, and warm. The exact environment Seonghyeon works best in. But alas, he knows the boys are tired. And being the great hyung he is, he's not going to push them today. Not yet. After being their producer and composer for years, ever since the start of their career, he knows the boys from inside out. Or at least, at a personal level. Seonghyeon knows the signs of a burnt out when he sees one, and he's not that horrible of a person to let that happen to the members.

Seonghyeon sits cross-legged in his chair with his laptop balanced against one knee, keeping to himself as he lets the rest collect their thoughts. In the meantime, he adjusts the timing of a vocal layer while the rough mix plays softly through the monitors. It's still not yet perfect and ready for release, but they've got time. The song needs just a little more polishing until it sits a place in the track list.

He listens attentively. The song playing is a love song, which is of course Seonghyeon's forte. The lyrics sound tender, the melody screams full. Yearning and heartsease wrapped gently into a symphony.

He supposed it makes sense. He has written most of it while lying awake beside Keonho two weeks ago, watching the rise and fall of his breathing in the dark. The line you still feel like home after every goodbye had come to him at 3:17am. Keonho had been asleep when Seonghyeon quietly slipped out of his arms and hopped out of bed to record the melody into his phone before he forgot it.

It does make a lot of sense, now that he thinks real hard about it.

"Hyung."

Seonghyeon hums absentmindedly, eyes still on the screen.

"Why do your songs always sound like you're in love?"

Seonghyeon wants to fire back: Isn't it obvious? But he holds back, sighing instead. Laughter scatters around the room immediately, despite the previous lethargic atmosphere. Hajoon doesn't need the teasing right now, and he doesn't have the energy to banter into the night either.

He snorts softly without looking up. "Because you people only let me write romance songs."

"That is not true," Sooho stops his arguing with Chanhee and pipes into the conversation. "You're the one who keeps making them romantic, hyung."

"Yeah," Bon-hwa mumbles sleepily from the couch. "Every comeback we're out here singing confessions on your behalf."

More laughter comes. Korain points toward the speakers with all the dramatics and flare of an idol. "Hyung, do you know how embarrassing it is performing lyrics this emotional in front of thousands of people?"

Seonghyeon raises an eyebrow. "Have a problem with that?"

"No! 'Course not, you know that. You're an amazing producer," Korain frantically explains. "They just… makes me blush. The lyrics feel too personal to share, hyung! You gotta understand that."

"Well, the group's concept is centered around love. I'm just doing my job."

"Yeah, but they're too intimate, hyung!" Chanhee says, wrapping his arm around Korain's shoulder to show his support. "Like, why is an idol singing about heaven is the place in my dreams and in her arms on stage?"

Seonghyeon blushes deep despite himself. "If you say it like that—"

"Hyung, we're not making fun of you," Hajoon says. "We're just telling you that— I mean, you just really love love."

"Or someone," Bon-hwa cuts in.

The room erupts in whoops and laughter and claps. Seonghyeon finally looks up from his laptop then, expression caught somewhere between fond exasperation and reluctant amusement. "What kind of middle school teasing is this?"

"Yah! Bon-hwa, I got goosebumps from your words," Sooho shouts, looking down at his arms, then dissolving into a fit of laughter.

"No but, seriously though," Bon-hwa says, eyes now wide open. He sits forward with renewed energy and interest. Sleep must not be important if there is an opportunity to interrogate Seonghyeon. "Keonho-sunbaenim has to be your muse, right?"

"I told you guys already," Seonghyeon laughs. "You can call him hyung. Keonho said so himself."

Korain groans. "We're not close enough to address him like that yet! And don't dismiss the question. It's definitely him, right?"

Keonho's name alone gives Seonghyeon butterflies in his stomach, and this question pushes that by letting something unspool in his chest. He can't name this feeling even if he wanted to, but he knows it's a special one that Keonho can only make him feel. Suddenly, he's aware. Because yes, obviously, every person in this room probably already knows that.

Keonho existed in POLARIS' music too clearly not to.

Seonghyeon glances back toward the paused track on his screen, fingers hovering briefly over the keyboard. He knows that every line and chord he has ever created with his own fingers, has always been because of Keonho. But saying it out loud, when it is only his heart that is so sure of this fact, feels a little flustering.

"I guess," he admits quietly.

Korain snorts. "That's great, hyung. We all knew a long time ago."

"Hearing him confirm it is a different feeling, to be honest," Hajoon says. "I can't believe I heard those words come right out of your mouth. I must be dreaming." He turns to look at Sooho. "Sooho, slap me. Ow!"

Seonghyeon laughs properly this time. Heat crawls faintly beneath his skin, but it's difficult to feel embarrassed when affection fills the room so easily. And really, they're not wrong. Keonho has existed somewhere inside nearly every song Seonghyeon has ever written. Even in unreleased ones. Songs that are so honest and sensually intimate, they never see the light of day, because they're left unfinished.

Sometimes, it's only in fragments. Seonghyeon often writes songs based on real life experiences and fragments of his daily life. There's a line inspired by the way Keonho laughs with his head tilted back, like the happiness is too large to be contained in his body. He remembers composing a melody shaped around the feeling of holding Keonho's hand and kissing him breathlessly.

There are certain lyrics born from the terrifying tenderness of being loved by a man who has always reached for him instinctively, naturally, like breathing. Seonghyeon knows he's too deep into it when he realises that even the songs that are not explicitly about love, still carries traces of Keonho.

He's starting to understand the members now. Just a little.

"You're such a loverboy, hyung." Bon-hwa accuses him immediately, and the rest of them break into loud laughter again.

Seonghyeon lets out an incredulous noise. "I'm literally just doing my job."

"Your job is producing," Sooho says firmly, pointing a finger toward him. "What you're doing is yearning. And you're not even hiding it!"

He shakes his head, trying to hide the smile tugging at his mouth as he reaches over to adjust the volume on the speakers. "You guys are being so dramatic."

"We learned from the best, I guess," Hajoon sniffs.

Chanhee leans back against the couch cushions, a big grin on his face. "Actually though, Keonho-sunbaenim has to know at this point, right?"

Seonghyeon pauses. "What?"

"That half of our discography is basically about him."

"Oh, wow. Can you imagine?" Sooho groans. "Imagine dating Eom Seonghyeon, and you wake up one morning to find out there's a chart-topping song about the way you smile."

Bon-hwa groans louder, probably trying to egg Seonghyeon on. "And it's our discography, by the way. We're helping Seonghyeon-hyung sing his feelings out to like thousands of people every comeback."

"But that's kind of romantic, no?" Chanhee questions, his smile falling off his face when he is answered with silence. "No? Oh. I guess not."

Seonghyeon hides his face briefly behind one hand, laughing under his breath. He ignores the burning of his cheeks at the moment. "I promise you guys it is not that serious. Just let it go."

"Hell to the no." Hajoon turns to the others and gathers them in a small, tight circle. They're all huddled up in one corner while Seonghyeon is still sitting alone on his chair, watching it all unfold with barely concealed amusement. "Do you guys want to know something really interesting? Don't tell hyung, though."

The rest of the members giggle quietly, nodding their heads in unison. Korain urges Hajoon to continue.

"There was one time when we all went out with Seonghyeon-hyung and the rest of the team, right? We went to a BBQ restaurant and had a lot of drinks there, and we shared a table with hyung. You don't remember, Bon-hwa? Good for you," Hajoon runs his mouth, voice clear and at a volume high enough Seonghyeon can hear with no issues. He knows that Hajoon is doing it on purpose and wants him to hear what he has to say. This kid.

"Anyway, Seonghyeon-hyung was so drunk—like he was out-of-this-world kind of drunk—and he ranted about how handsome Keonho-sunbaenim was, how happy he makes him feel, and that he loved sunbae in bed. Which was TMI to the max, but I digress," Hajoon continues, with a straight face. Seonghyeon, on the other hand, can feel his cheeks sting and blood rushing into his ears. "Then, he proceeded to tell us there was one time he wrote an entire bridge because Keonho-sunbaenim had come home looking all homey and husbandly. I wanted to tell him he was lovesick, but I passed out right there and then."

All five of them burst out into a fit of laughter then, the giggles bouncing off the walls of the studio. Seonghyeon stares at them in false betrayal, because putting up with the boys' antics is no big deal, and he loves them. Really, even though they're always trying to get on his nerves.

"You guys are so annoying. Is this how the youth are these days?"

"Hyung, you're only four years older," Hajoon shoots back immediately, still laughing hard enough his shoulders shake. "And no. You're just ridiculously in love, I'm afraid."

"I can't believe you remember that. I don't even remember saying that."

"How could we not?" Bon-hwa wheezes. "You grabbed Hajoon by the shoulders and started talking about Keonho-sunbaenim like you were reciting wedding vows."

Korain snorts. "Like, if you guys were married, I'd understand you a little more."

Chanhee wipes at the corner of his eye, his laugh coming to an end. "It was beautiful, honestly. I almost cried for you, hyung."

Korain gives him a look. "How the hell did you almost cry for Seonghyeon-hyung?"

The room dissolves into another round of noise, and the members start their shenanigans once more. Seonghyeon can only shake his head helplessly, hiding the lower half of his face behind his sleeve this time in a weak attempt to concel the embarrassment burning through him.

He vaguely remembers that dinner now—fragments of soju bottles littering the table, Sooho nearly falling out of his chair laughing from the way Hajoon passed out by Seonghyeon's aggressive shaking, and he himself feeling warm enough to spill every thought in his chest without filtering any of it first.

It had been one of those rare nights where loving Keonho felt too overwhelming to keep contained quietly.

Maybe Hajoon is right. Maybe Seonghyeon is really lovesick.

Because there are moments where affection for Keonho arrives so suddenly and intensely that Seonghyeon physically does not know where to put it. It crowds his lungs, sits beneath his ribs, and makes him compose melodies at three in the morning because Keonho had smiled at him in a way that made his chest ache with unbearable fondness. It doesn't help that there was a time where Seonghyeon stayed up till the sun rose, just staring at Keonho fast asleep, and memorising the fall and rise of his chest and matching it to his own breathing

Sometimes it embarrasses him, honestly. The sheer depth of it. How naturally Seonghyeon's world bends around Keonho without permission. It's crazy what love can do to a person.

Love makes Seonghyeon write poetry about a boy's hands and how he wished he could hold them till the end of time.

How crazy is that?

"You know what?" Korain says suddenly. "I think it's kind of unfair."

Seonghyeon raises an eyebrow cautiously. That doesn't mean anything good. "What is unfair?"

"That Keonho-sunbaenim gets all these songs written about him."

"Oh god," Bon-hwa groans. "Here we go."

"No, listen!" Korain insists. "Think about it. Seonghyeon-hyung basically immortalizes his boyfriend in songs for a living. "

Sooho nods solemnly. "True love, yup."

Seonghyeon finds himself completely endeared and annoyed by the five of them.

"And meanwhile," Korain continues dramatically, "what does hyung get in return?"

Seonghyeon snorts softly. "I get plenty in return."

"That's not the point, hyung," Hajoon cuts in immediately before Korain does. "The point is—has Keonho-sunbaenim ever written a song about you? Like ever?"

The question lands like another joke among many tonight, but it makes Seonghyeon freeze. His body tenses up, not outwardly enough that the rest notice the subtlety of it all. His fingers halt, hovering above the keyboard.

The thing is… he doesn't know.

Something strange unfurls slowly inside Seonghyeon's chest. Because— has he? Has Keonho ever written a song about him? He expects the answer to come easily to him, in an instant.

And yet, he finds himself stuck.

He sets himself scrambling loose then, searching through memories. Through YOUNK albums played late at night in his headphones when he can't sleep, or when he needs inspiration for songwriting. Through lyrics scribbled in Keonho's notebooks that the latter has graciously decided to let him skim through. Through harmonies and melodies hummed absentmindedly in the kitchen while cooking ramyeon together at two in the morning.

Of course, there are songs that remind Seonghyeon of himself.

There are songs that are familiar in shape, in feeling. There are undoubtedly, certain lyrics that press against his ribs, pounding in a way that makes Seonghyeon stop and wonder briefly, albeit hopefully.

But no song comes to mind immediately.

There is nothing. Nothing Keonho has ever looked him in the eyes and said: I wrote this because of you.

"I…" Seonghyeon starts quietly, which is a bad idea, because he stops quickly, letting his words fade away. The room turns silent then, the tension reaching an ultimate high as he collects his thoughts.

Korain blinks. "…Wait, seriously? He doesn't?"

"I don't know," Seonghyeon admits finally, truthfully. The words sound strange and distant even to his own ears. "Maybe not."

The room remains quiet for an awkward second.

"…Really?" Chanhee asks. "Like he's never written a song about you?"

Bon-hwa looks genuinely baffled. "No way. You're lying."

"He probably keeps it private. Let's not speculate, guys," Hajoon offers, sending an understanding look toward Seonghyeon. For all his annoying remarks, the boy is caring in his own perceptive way.

"Yeah," Sooho agrees, nodding his head slowly as he gauges observations from Seonghyeon's face. "YOUNK's music doesn't really feel personal in that way."

"You're right. I mean, their songs are emotional," Korain says thoughtfully, "but more… broad? Since they are a band, and they don't have a concept like we do. Maybe singing about a bandmate's partner is kind of awkward for the rest of the band."

Seonghyeon nods absentmindedly, the conversation playing as background noise. Broad. That's true. And Korain is right. It'd be awkward for a band to sing about a bandmate's love for their partner and them alone.

Moreover, YOUNK's songs have always felt vast somehow. Like a deep blue ocean. Large enough to belong to everyone listening at once, with more people relating to them. Love is a relatable thing, but YOUNK is a rock band. Keonho is a rockstar. Do rockstars sing about love for their boyfriend? Seonghyeon doesn't know.

The songs are not intimate in the same way POLARIS' songs often are. They're not obviously tied to one singular person. So, maybe, Keonho has never written a song about him. Maybe Hajoon's words can be true and Keonho is secretive and keeps songs written about him to himself.

And while Seonghyeon is spiraling in his own thoughts, the others move on quickly after that, sensing the change in mood. The shift is natural and effortless, and the boys settle back to their usual back-and-forth over the most useless issue. The room eventually fills with noise again despite the late hour.

But Seonghyeon feels disconnected from it right now.

The question remains lodged in his throat, sitting uncomfortably on his chest. Has Keonho ever written a song about you before?

Seonghyeon mulls over it. Thinking and thinking over again. He ponders over the stupid few words, because it's a childish thing to wonder about. Who knows if Keonho has ever dedicated a song to him before? Who cares?

But the fact that Seonghyeon cannot answer Korain's question with confidence and ease feels far more heavier than it should. In a way, it makes him feel nauseous, queasy, and he begins to overthink.

What is the use in overthinking now, though? It's just a silly question, nothing Seonghyeon should be losing his mind over. Yet here he is, thinking too hard. Maybe he should ask Keonho directly, since he hates to be vague and is always straightforward in his words and actions.

But what if the answer Seonghyeon wants to hear isn't the one he desires?

He doesn't know what he'd do.

Then again, it's a silly thing to worry about, no?

Tired of questioning it, Seonghyeon shoves the bad thoughts into the far back of his mind, and focuses on the now. The music, the members, and his laptop. It's fine. Even if Keonho has never written songs about him the way he does for Keonho, he's not obligated to. There's no need for Keonho to go to such great lengths and dedicate every track in YOUNK's discography to him.

He shouldn't be concerned.

Right?

When Seonghyeon finally leaves the company building and urgently rushes the POLARIS members home since it's late into the night, he hops into his car and fishes out his phone from his pocket. He hasn't checked his notifications ever since he entered the recording studio.

A smile makes it's way to his lips when he sees Keonho's name appear on his screen.

keonho :) 6.09pm

hi old man

serious talk

there's no breaking up in this relationship alright

if you're tired of me

take a nap

The chain of messages are so out of the blue that Seonghyeon barks out a laugh in disbelief. Seriously? Old man? We're the same age.

seonghyeon (me) 12.49am

good morning

and ok

noted with thanks ig

keonho :) 12.49am

where were u

recording w/ the boys again?

seonghyeon (me) 12.50am

what else would i be doing

keonho :) 12.50am

idk this isnt the first time u replied to my msgs 6 hrs later

u cld be doing anything

like grocery shopping

seonghyeon (me) 12.50am

i would be doing anything but grocery shopping

keonho :) 12.51am

ok fair

wru rn

im almost done w recording at my studio

ill see u at the hotel?

seonghyeon (me) 12.51am

yeah

see u

keonho :) 12.51am

gotcha

love you

seonghyeon (me) 12.51am

love u too

The smile on Seonghyeon's face right now can probably earn disgusted grunts and whines from the POLARIS members. And while their words may ring true, he finds that he doesn't really mind. He doesn't care if he's too lovesick in their eyes. Loving Keonho is worth all the teasing.

Keonho's love you message makes his skin buzz and his nerves sing. He feels like a high school boy in love all over again. Except he feels that way all the time, because Keonho has a knack for doing that to him too, without fail.

It's ridiculous.

Only fifteen minutes ago, Seonghyeon had been sitting in a studio wondering if Keonho had ever written a song about him. Now, one text message is enough to send all those worries scattering like frightened birds. It's as if Seonghyeon's common sense tends to pack it's bags and leave when Keonho enters the equation.

Damn, he really is in love.

He really acts like those corny couples in romance dramas and movies. Seonghyeon, who had yearned for a love like that since young, actually is drunk in that kind of love he was hoping for. Poetic.

The traffic light ahead turns red. He slows the car to a stop and glances at his phone again. The messages haven't changed, and niehter has the stupid smile pulling at his mouth.

there's no breaking up in this relationship alright

if you're tired of me

take a nap

The idiot. He's in love with an idiot.

The words aren't poetic, nor are they particularly romantic. If anything, they should like something a sleep-deprived rockstar would type after spending six consecutive hours trapped inside a recording studio. And yet, a warm sensation unfurls inside Seonghyeon's body anyway, flooding all his senses, tingling his fingers.

Because he knows, with absolute certainty, that it is so Keonho of him to send something like that. It is the one thing that has never been altered during the years they spent together. Again, Seonghyeon loves absolutes. So, it goes without saying that he loves this about Keonho because he knows it will never be different.

Keonho who always remembers to text him before recording sessions. Keonho who calls him when he's too tired to keep his eyes open. Keonho who says love you with the same casual certainty other people use when asking if you have eaten.

The traffic light turns green, and Seonghyeon drives forward.

He thinks he has to be an idiot.

His thoughts drift naturally toward Korain's question earlier. He ignores the strange ache it had left behind inside of him.

Has Keonho ever written a song about you before?

Maybe he hasn't. Maybe he has. It's not any of Seonghyeon's business to pry. Because humans have numerous ways of showing love, and Keonho loves differently than Seonghyeon does. He turns his feelings into melodies and lyrics and bridges that never quite manage to capture everything he wants to say, but he continues to do so anyway, beacuse it's the only way he can make sure he remembers Keonho's beauty completely. How much Keonho makes him feel and feel.

On the other hand, Keonho reaches across the bed in his sleep and searches for Seonghyeon in the dark without waking up. Keonho buys his favourite drink without asking. Keonho remembers the names of people Seonghyeon mentions only once. Keonho says love you before hanging up every call.

Not all love arrives in the shape of a song, do they?

By the time the hotel comes into view, Seonghyeon has almost convinced himself the insecurity was silly to begin with. A childish and pointless thing to be spiraling over. He steps out of the car, a smile still plastered on his lips. He scrutinises the hotel as he parks his car in the parking lot outside the extravagant hotel.

He booked a vacant room here since Keonho enjoys staying in hotels, and while they usually hang out at each other's house when their schedules are free for date nights, a bit of change won't hurt. Beside, this particular hotel is one of the best in the big city of Seoul. Keonho is picky about the hotels he stays in, but Seonghyeon could care less about the state of the hotels if it means he can curl into Keonho's arms after days of not seeing each other.

That thought alone—being able to hold Keonho in his embrace—is enough to make him walk a little bit faster.

He's so pathetic. Pathetically in love, that is.

Quickening his pace, Seonghyeon does a quick check-in and arrives at the elevator. The ride up feels longer than usual. By the time he reaches the room he booked, exhaustion from the recording session earlier has settled deep into his bones. There are different kinds of fatigue, and the most unpleasant one is the type that makes you lose all sense of the world around you and your body starts aching and you can't even fall asleep.

Seonghyeon feels like that now, but he doubts it'll stay after a nice, warm shower in the luxurious bathroom.

When he opens the door, he is greeted with silence. Ah, he isn't here yet, Seonghyeon realises. He glances down at his phone, and sees that no new messages have come through. No matter. Objectively, it's already a surprise that they were able to have a full yet brief conversation over text just now. Keonho, being the frontman of YOUNK, has a lot of weight on his shoulders. He gets pulled in all directions, and his career really gets in Seonghyeon's way of wanting to see Keonho on some days when he needs him most.

But he knows that he can't be too selfish. After all, he is just as busy as Keonho. They're working adults who have vastly different lives and jobs. He is sure that both of them have spent more or less the same hours in their respective recording studios every month.

Nevertheless, he'll blame it on fate for drawing all the bad cards into his deck, since their schedules do not align most of the time. Seonghyeon can't even begin to tell you the number of times he had a free day off but Keonho was trapped in his studio or running meetings with his label.

Keonho tries his best to make up for it, though. His form of love and effort comes in the form of daily video calls, good morning and good night messages, and the occasional goofy photo he sends of him using a silly filter that instantly brightens up Seonghyeon's day. The time span between each text message is inconsistent, but Keonho still sends them on time. At least, sometimes.

Seonghyeon very much prefers to talk to his lover in person, anyway.

So, he isn't surprised when he calls out Keonho's name and receives no response. He can wait. He has waited for Keonho more times than he can count on both hands. He can wait for even longer.

Seonghyeon understands YOUNK's schedules have been brutal lately, as well. Keonho has let him know they're preparing a new album soon, and then a world tour. The long-awaited date is approaching, and every member has been living inside studios for weeks now. He knows that well enough, since he's close with the members of YOUNK.

Martin, lead guitarist of the band, is Seonghyeon's long lost childhood best friend, and they only reunited when Keonho had introduced them properly a few years back. YOUNK was formed years before they had gotten together, and Seonghyeon had been a fan, but he didn't know the members at a closer level to realise it was the same Martin he knew back then.

It's understandable, though. Martin is rocking a new messy blond hairstyle now, contrasting the black choppy hair he had when they were children.

Juhoon, the keyboardist, is probably the easiest member to get along with. Or perhaps easiest is the wrong word. He simply possesses the kind of personality that Seonghyeon finds most comfortable to talk with, and be around. He's quiet enough that it's never awkward and Seonghyeon can relax. He's easygoing enough that conversations never feel forced with him, and that really makes him wonder how on earth he became friends with Martin.

But seeing as how they're polar opposites, their friendship definitely bloomed due to their compatibility. Juhoon can be playful, too, so maybe that's why he gets along with Keonho so easily. Seonghyeon likes him.

Then there is James, YOUNK's drummer. He's the oldest out of all of them, but sometimes he doesn't act like his age. Not that Seonghyeon is calling James ancient. It's just that talking to the older man without having to worry about offending him is cool. It's nice, and it lifts a weight off his shoulders. When they first met, Seonghyeon had no idea that James would be so intimidating in real life. But as they start meeting up more often alone, he realises James is super caring and reliable. It's no wonder the other members respect him so much.

He has started seeing him as an older brother, who he never had. Seonghyeon thinks James is the closest he can get to experiencing what it's like to have an older brother. No offence to his little sister, he loves her too.

And James' best trait is being unserious. The first time Keonho had introduced them, James had stared at him for a minute, like a hawk, before announcing: "Oh, so you're real."

When Seonghyeon had asked whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, James simply shrugged. "Keonho talks about you so much I started thinking you were imaginary."

The memory still makes Seonghyeon's ears burn.

Apparently, according to the rest of YOUNK, Keonho speaks about Seonghyeon constantly. He speaks about him so much that the members know what Seonghyeon orders at certain restaurants, his favourite colour, and how he hates eggplants.

It should be embarrassing. And, Seonghyeon guesses it is to some extent.

But, even more than that, it makes Seonghyeon's chest feel strangely warm.

Because for all of Keonho's apparent coolness, for all the ways he struggles to articulate certain emotions, for all the effort he puts in to live up to his bad boy rockstar image, the people closest to him always seem completely certain of one thing.

Keonho loves Seonghyeon.

There has never been any real doubt about that.

At least, not until tonigh—

The unwanted thought slips in before Seonghyeon can stop it. Immediately, he shoves it away, because it's getting ridiculous. He is twenty-eight years old. He has been dating Keonho for four years. He is not going to spiral because a few idol group members aasked whether his boyfriend has ever written a song about him.

Besides, Keonho loves him. Seonghyeon knows this.

He knows it in the same way he knows the sky is blue and that Hajoon talks too much for his own good. Some things are simply facts, absolutes. No matter how many doubts try to disguise themselves as questions.

With that comforting thought in mind, Seonghyeon tosses his phone onto the bed and disappears into the bathroom. He freshens up quickly, and by the time he emerges from the bathroom, towel hanging around his neck and hair still damp from the shower, the room smells faintly of hotel soap and steam. His muscles ache less now, and the tiredness from earlier has been washed away.

"Finally."

Four years of dating, and Seonghyeon still gets the same butterflies he did when he met Keonho years ago. Ridiculous.

The rockstar is sprawled across the couch near the window. A baseball cap sits low over his forehead, and his leather jacket is discarded beside him. One arm rests along the back of the couch while the other scrolls lazily through something on his phone. His eyes barely lift from the screen, and Seonghyeon frowns a little.

"Took you forever, sweetheart."

Seonghyeon has heard Keonho call him that since forever, yet it still makes his face flush. There's those butterflies again, and the familiar warmth blooming inside him.

"When did you get here?" He decides to ask.

"Twenty minutes ago," Keonho yawns, long and tired. "You still look dead. I don't think the showering helped."

Seonghyeon rolls his eyes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Another yawn comes.

Seonghyeon snorts.

Everything feels normal. Comfortable. Safe. Silence with Keonho that has settled between them after years of knowing each other. Years of friendship. Years of love. Years of learning the shape of one another until being together no longer felt extraodinary, but inevitable.

It is one of Seonghyeon's favourite things about them. That certainty. He has always been afraid of change.

Especially between them.

That's why the knowledge that no matter how chaotic their schedules become, no matter how many countries or cities separate them, they will always find their way back to each other eventually—

It comforts him.

Seonghyeon's gaze lingers on Keonho a little longer. The butterflies fly back again.

He has always been handsome. Unfairly so. It's a kind of beauty that people will write songs about. It's the kind of beauty that Seonghyeon has written songs about. He could spend centuries doing it. 

"How was the recording?" Seonghyeon questions. "Did it go well?"

"Hm?" Keonho's thumb pauses briefly over his screen, eyes never meeting his. "It went fine."

Then his attention drops back to his phone.

And Seonghyeon can't help the lump forming in his throat at the short answer. Because usually, there is more. Usually Keonho complains about something. Anything. There is always something Keonho wants to rant about during those recording sessions.

But tonight, nothing more comes. The silence stretches on, and he must be imagining it— Seonghyeon doesn't know what to say to Keonho for the first time in these four years.

He shifts his weight. Maybe Keonho is tired, that would make sense. Everyone has been exhausted lately, him too. Working on POLARIS comeback has taken a toll on his sleeping schedule. (Not that it was any good in the first place.)

Still.

Seonghyeon can't help the disappointment that washes over him at Keonho's indifference.

And yet, he feels ashamed of himself. This small and fleeting disappointment of his— is so embarrassingly childish.

Because what exactly is he disappointed about?

Keonho is here. Keonho came. After an entire day of schedules and recordings and meetings, he is sitting right there. He still came to see Seonghyeon, even when he looks on the verge of passing out.

Nevertheless, some selfish part of Seonghyeon had expected more. Expected Keonho to immediately surprise him with a hug. Expected Keonho to shower him with smiles and kisses. Expected Keonho to say he missed him first.

The realisation leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Immediately, he feels guilty. Love shouldn't be measured in greetings, or eye contact, or anything similar. That's ridiculous, yet here Seonghyeon is.

"Sweetheart."

The nickname immediately pulls him from his thoughts.

"Hm?" He looks at Keonho, curious.

The rockstar finally lifts his eyes from the screen, and for the first time since arriving, something softens in his expression.

Seonghyeon feels the butterflies multiply by tenfold in his stomach. The familiar warmth. The familiar affection. The familiar Keonho that makes Seonghyeon's chest ache and his heart sing.

"Come here. I missed you," Keonho says, opening his arms.

The disappointment from earlier evaporates in an instant. Fuck, he's pathetic. Seonghyeon crosses the room without hesitation. The moment he gets close enough, he opens his arms to embrace Keonho, fully expecting an awkward hug since the rockstar is sitting down.

Instead, Keonho reaches for his arm and tugs him down onto his lap, one hand settling against his waist whilst the other cages him from the middle.

A startled laugh escapes him. "Keonho."

"What?"

"You could've warned me. You know I would be fine with sitting on your lap."

"Where's the fun in that? I like seeing you caught off guard."

Seonghyeon looks at him, unamused. "Are you sure that's not just a kink of yours?"

Keonho's arms slide around him comfortably. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let me hug you."

So, Seonghyeon lets him.

Keonho immediately buries his face into the crook of his neck with a satisfied sigh, fond and loving. For a few moments, neither of them speak. For a few moments, the room is quiet except for the distant hum of the air-conditioning and the occasional vibration of traffic somewhere below the hotel window.

And for a few moments, love is there. Seonghyeon can feel it in the way Keonho's arms remain wrapped securely around his waist, in the euphoric feeling of Keonho steadily breathing him in, in the familiar hum that Keonho makes subconsciously when he is content.

He must be imagining it. Has that silly question really clouded his mind that much to the point he thinks his boyfriend for four years is growing distant?

Seonghyeon closes his eyes briefly.

This. This is what he missed. Being held. Being close enough to hear Keonho's breathing. Being reminded that they exist in the same space. The jubilant feeling of knowing that there is still love occupying the long distance between them.

His shoulders slowly relax. The strange insecurity from earlier begins to loosen it's grip. Maybe he really had been overthinking. Maybe he was just extremely tired. Maybe—

"Martin nearly killed us today."

Seonghyeon's eyes immediately fly open.

Then, his shock tapers away to a smile, then a giggle.

"Ah, finally. I was thinking you were out of it tonight."

Keonho lifts his head from the spot he was occupying on his neck. "What do you mean?"

"The complaining."

"What complaining?"

"The one you do every time I ask you how the recording session went."

Keonho narrows his eyes, lips morphing into a cute pout. Seonghyeon feels his resolve to not squish his cheeks crumble a little. "But I do not complain."

"Are you trying to be funny? You absolutely do."

"I really do not."

"I'm not going to even try and argue with you," Seonghyeon mumbles back, and returns to cling onto Keonho properly.

He plants his hands on the wide plane of the latter's shoulders, and immediately feels a warm curl in his belly. He tries to remind himself that they're both tired and spent. Is it his fault that his boyfriend is too sexy to resist?

Besides, Keonho looks like he isn't in the mood. Seonghyeon must just really miss him, then.

"Do I really complain? I mean, I always answer your questions truthfully like the good boyfriend I am. I'm 101% sure that it doesn't count as complaining." It looks like Keonho has no intention to let the subject die down.

"And I'm 101% sure you always start off by saying Martin has done something whenever I ask you."

"Okay, but this time he really did nearly kill me! Us."

Seonghyeon raises an eyebrow. "Really? I'll ask Juhoon later."

"Oh. So you're not going to ask me—your boyfriend—what exactly Martin did today?" Keonho's eyes narrow at him. "Some boyfriend you are."

Seonghyeon's smile grows wider. "Come on. Don't get mad now."

"You're lucky I love you so much," the rockstar grumbles. The words are familiar and ordinary, because Keonho says them all the time to the point that Seonghyeon expects it every time they meet.

Keonho has always been so generous with his affection that Seonghyeon has long since stopped questioning it. The words come easily to him. Those three words. I love you. The vocabulary of their relationship has become second nature, and perhaps that is why Korain's question had bothered him so much earlier.

Because if someone asked whether Keonho loved him, Seonghyeon would laugh. The answer is obvious. The answer has always been obvious, hasn't it?

The question that troubles him now, though, is entirely different. But Seonghyeon can't just wallow in his own insecurities and self-doubt forever. He's not a kid.

If he wants to find out the answer to Korain's question, he should just ask. It's not like Keonho will deny him of anything for such a simple thing.

But first:

"How are the album preparations going?" Seonghyeon asks.

Keonho hums. "The usual."

Seonghyeon waits for a few more minutes, and nothing follows up. For some reason, disappointment flickers through him once more. Is he overthinking things?

"Just the usual?"

Keonho shrugs.

"Yeah."

The rockstar's chin finds it's way back onto Seonghyeon's shoulder. His arms tighten slightly around his waist.

"Well, if you really want to know, it's actually just the usual. You know, recording, meetings, getting yelled at by managers. The other three still have a love triangle going on, or whatever."

"That sounds normal."

"It is normal. I still don't know how long the three of them are going to sort their… relationships out."

Seonghyeon laughs softly. Sometimes, he pities Keonho for having to deal with the emotional package of three adult men's love lives.

He hesitates for a second, before asking, "How many songs do you guys have finished?"

This time, Keonho perks up slightly. The change is subtle, but Seonghyeon knows his rockstar like the back of his hand. Music has always lit something inside Keonho, as it is with himself.

"Eleven."

"Oh?"

"Maybe twelve." Keonho's voice grows more animated, and Seonghyeon can't help but smile. "There are still a few we're fighting over, though."

"We?"

"Martin thinks he's a genius."

"Isn't he?"

"What the heck? No."

Seonghyeon laughs at the pretend aghast look on Keonho's face. His boyfriend grumbles, clapsing his arms like a vice around Seonghyeon's middle, caging him in.

"Don't encourage him. He's probably sneezing right now as we speak."

"You're talking about your best friend."

"I'm talking about a man who wanted to add a seven-minute guitar solo as an interlude."

"I mean, I think it would've been good."

Keonho's nose scrunches up in disbelief. "I know you're talking shit out of your ass, Eom Seonghyeon."

Now he's talking. Actually talking. And Seonghyeon finds himself smiling, because everything about their conversation is familiar too. This is Keonho, the version of him that comes alive whenever music enters the conversation. The one that Seonghyeon had fully fell for when they met by chance back in the building the both of them used to work at.

Without meaning to, Seonghyeon reaches up to tickle the underside of Keonho's chin, and laughs when the rockstar looks at him incredulously, with barely masked amusement. Seonghyeon listens to every word that Keonho says when it comes to music.

"What's your favourite song on the album?" The question slips out.

Keonho pauses. "I… haven't decided."

"You must have one, though."

"Nope."

"You're lying." He has to be.

"I'm dead serious, sweetheart."

Seonghyeon narrows his eyes. "But you always have one."

Something unreadable crosses Keonho's expression, but Seonghyeon must have imagined it as it's gone in an instant when he blinks. It happens so quickly that Seonghyeon isn't entirely sure it was there at all.

What's more, Keonho looks away toward the hotel window. Away from him.

"I… This time, I don't know if I have one." Keonho says quietly, almost absentminded. "I guess there's one?"

Immediately, curiosity sparks in him.

"What is it about?"

It's a question Seonghyeon has always asked Keonho whenever he's working on an album. Every single time, Keonho will answer with vigor, with enthusiasm fit for a singer who loves music like it's a sentient being with a soul.

However, for reasons he cannot explain, Keonho goes still.

Silence stretches between them, and it goes on for so long that it begins to feel strange. Seonghyeon starts to wonder if he asked something wrong.

Eventually, Keonho laughs. It sounds like it was forced out of his lungs, and Seonghyeon's heart sinks.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?"

"It's just a song."

"But what's it about?"

Keonho shrugs indifferently, like his words don't matter to Seonghyeon. "It's… hard to explain. I just— don't know how to say it."

Seonghyeon's stomach twists hard, sharp and searing. Keonho loves talking about music. He can spend hours explaining the meaning behind lyrics of a song, because he has done it before. And Seonghyeon was his audience. Usually, Keonho will light up at this question.

Instead, he looks uncomfortable, as if he wants to be anywhere but in this room. With Seonghyeon.

But then the tense atmosphere melts away, and the unpleasant look on Keonho's face vanishes like a ninja disappearing into the night. He nudges Seonghyeon's shoulder.

"Enough about me." His smile returns. "Tell me about your day. I miss the members. Did anything fun happen today?"

Seonghyeon can't place a finger on it, on the weirdness and absurdity of how Keonho has been acting the whole night. But he lets it slide, he lets himself forget about it.

It's a temporary thing. Keonho is exhausted. Seonghyeon has kept him up for long enough.

So, Seonghyeon clings to him tighter, as if the rockstar might disappear if he doesn't. They can have a conversation about the album, as well as the burning question, next time.

"Well…"

Later, when both of them are tucked into bed, Seonghyeon does not sleep.

His eyes rake over Keonho's face, framed by the moonlight creeping through the curtains in the dark. Fingers are enclasped around his waist, and he can feel Keonho breathing down his neck.

Seonghyeon hesitates for a few minutes, before carefully reaching out to grab his earpods from the drawer next to the bed. He pops one in his ear, and pulls out his phone, cautious to shield the light from Keonho who is peacefully asleep.

He plays a song from YOUNK's discography, then.

The familiar melody filters into his ear, soft enough that it doesn't disturb the man sleeping beside him. Still, Seonghyeon lowers the volume even further out of habit.

The song is one he knows well.

Not because he listens to YOUNK obsessively—although Keonho would certainly argue otherwise—but because he has heard it hundreds of times. Through speakers in convenience stores. Through radio stations. Through passing cars with their windows rolled down.

And also, he likes hearing keonho sing.

The song continues, and Seonghyeon recognises the familiar guitar riff, the familiar drum pattern, and the distinct keys playing from a piano. James' drumming has always been easy to identify. There is a certain confidence in it, something steady and grounding beneath the rest of the music. Martin's guitar follows shortly after, bright and unmistakable. Then, comes Juhoon's excellent piano skills. Maybe he should ask the keyboardist if he could play at his wedding in the future.

Afterwards, Seonghyeon hears Keonho's voice slip in.

He thinks back to Korain's question.

Has Keonho written a song about you before?

For the first time ever, Seonghyeon finds himself wondering if he would recognize a song written about him at all. He knows it's silly, wishful thinking.

But who wouldn't want their partner to write a song about them?

He thinks back to Keonho's strange mood earlier, and holds back a wince. Would he have the same reaction as he did just now if Seonghyeon asked him directly?

What would Seonghyeon do then?

Eventually, he is lulled to sleep, and forgets about the lyrics playing in his ears.

love is so strange

i've spent years learning it's language

still forget every word when you smile

if i could write you into every song

maybe then i'd get it right