Archive of Our Own

The first letter came to him in 2020, now forgotten three years later, hidden between the pages of a dusty notebook he hasn't opened in ages.

“Jay, don’t forget your socks,”

“I know, I know. You said that five times already,” Jay grumps, his back turned to Jake while seated on the floor, hunched over an opened suitcase and absolutely tired of his roommate’s—soon to be ex-roomate’s—nagging.

After three long years, they’re finally moving out of their shared dorms and relocating to somewhere bigger. It’s quite the change—they’ll have their own rooms, live on two separate floors, and consequently, have one more bathroom to split between all seven of them. Which comes in handy when they’re dying to pee and one of them is taking their sweet time sitting on the toilet and scrolling on their phone.

While it’s somewhat bittersweet to be leaving the four walls Jake had called his home; to be saying goodbye to the room that bore witness to his numerous nights of just passing out from sheer fatigue, he also looks forward to a new era of peace and privacy. No more stepping over Jay’s pile of dirty clothes, no more scolding him for it, no more sleeping with his snoring, and no more waking up to an obnoxiously loud rock song set as his alarm.

Being roommates with Jay brought them closer, of course. Both physically and figuratively. It’s not like they had much of a choice anyway. But this proximity often brought about clashes. They would butt heads over their laundry, and chew each other’s ears off about the mess. 

Anyway, Jake is excited to have a room all to himself again. He can finally fill the shelves with the decor he wants, arrange it to his desires, and keep it as clean as he wants without hounding anyone to do the same.

Their schedule is cleared today for the sole purpose of packing up their things, and the staff will be transporting them to their new building. Which is why at two o’clock in the afternoon, Jake is standing on top of his computer chair, trying to reach the topmost shelf on his side of the room, which, in hindsight, might not be the best idea.

“You’re going to fall.” Jay clicks his tongue, not even needing to turn around to know that Jake is up to no good.

“I am not.” Jake scoffs, offended, standing on his toes and trying to keep the wheeled chair stable while reaching for some of the books he stored throughout the years.

With a sigh, Jay gets up and saunters over to him, not having it in his heart to let Jake fall just to prove that he’s right. He puts his hands on the chair and stops it from moving around.

“Aww, Jay. You love me so much.” Jake grins at this, reaches for his things and hands some of them to his roommate. “How are you going to sleep without me now?”

“Shut up. I can sleep without you just fine.” Jay scowls, craning his neck to see a glimpse of what Jake was having such difficulty in reaching. Maybe if he wasn’t so short, he’d have fished it out in no time.

“But Ni-ki said you kept the door open when I wasn't around,” He answers, tone teasing. As usual. Jay rolls his eyes, a rebuttal on his tongue, but is cut off when Jake finally manages to grab the last of his things. Albeit, a little clumsily, the tip of his finger only knocking the last notebook off its stance.

There’s a flurry of dust that greets them, and Jake waves it away with a cough, grabbing the evasive notebook and getting off the wheeled chair with a quick mumble of thanks. Jay goes back to his side of the room, resuming his own packing, peeking at the checklist on his phone.

He opens the notebook, forgetting all about its contents. As he flips through pages of what seems to be his notes about recording their debut album, a small envelope slips out and flutters towards the floor. Curious, he picks it up and opens it, only to find the penmanship he knows all too well.

The first letter finds its way to him once more.

All of the sudden he’s seventeen again, lying on the bed with the big number five mounted by his headboard, opening the letter Jay made him promise not to. 

“Open it when I get eliminated.” He says, giving out the letters he wrote to them one by one.

“If you don’t get eliminated after all of this…” says Jake with an awkward laugh. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand why Jay is acting like he’s going to be leaving, doesn’t understand why he’s already saying goodbye when he’s still there. 

“If I don’t get eliminated, you can just make fun of me later.” Jay answers, because that’s the kind of person he has always been. To him there is no loss in being made a fool for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

He opens it once back in his own room, Taki asking him if they’re allowed to read it. But he’s unable to answer, mind elsewhere and heart lodged in his throat as he pulls the paper out of its coverings. 

With each word he reads, he feels like swallowing a bullet of lead, the gravity of his reality settling in. He anticipated this—getting to know people, and then watching them come and go. But he never thought it would be this difficult. To him, Jay was one of the people who had a sure place on the pedestals, with his dancing, singing, and burning willpower. But now, he’s on the brink of his departure. It’s just so…absurd. After everything he has shown, after everything they’ve been through. He wonders briefly if the competition might be rigged, some unknown and unreasonable being pulling strings behind the scenes.

Uneasy, he puts the letter back in its envelope and glances around, only to find the author himself sitting on the other side of the room they're about to vacate. No partings, no rigs. That goodbye never came. Instead, they bawled their eyes out together on the finale night, standing side by side on the pedestals.

It all comes flooding back to Jake—the stage, their shared rooms, the mirrors in the practice rooms, the huge stupid revolving egg. But most of all, it’s the image of a young Jay that comes to mind, writing goodbye letters in the silence of the basement floor in I-Land, with his swollen hand from all the mosquito bites, fearing an elimination.

For a second his breath hitches in his throat, worried about the teasing he might get once Jay realizes that he had kept the letter with him all these years. So, before that even happens, Jake makes sure to get the upper hand. 

“Jay, look what I found.” He says, voice jesting, eyes twinkling with mirth. Well, Jay did say they could make fun of him.

Looking over his shoulder with initial curiosity, Jay’s eyes widen with mild horror when he realizes what Jake is holding between his fingers. “Is that—”

“To Jake, are you surprised by my letter?”

Jay rolls his eyes with a suffering groan, getting up again from the floor to stop him from reading the rest of it out loud.

He continues, of course, being the menace that he is, and even adapts a dramatic cadence to his voice. “Even though you have a very short training period, with your strong mind, you’ve become a skilled trainee. Damn right I did.”

“Stop it,” Jay clicks his tongue, trying to snatch the paper away, but Jake is quick in holding it out of reach.

“I learned a lot from you. I hope you succeed. From…Jay.” He finishes it off with a sigh nothing short of theatrical, holding the letter to his chest and looking at his roommate with a pout. “Aww, Jay!” 

“Shut up!” He exclaims, glaring. “I thought I was going to leave, okay? I needed to say my goodbyes.” Jay gives up on trying to steal the letter and instead puts on his headphones on full blast and proceeds to ignore Jake for the rest of their packing, successfully hiding his pink tinged ears in the process.

With left over giggles on his lips, Jake folds the paper carefully and neatly slips it back into its envelope. He laughs about it now, but when he had read that letter on his bed in I-Land, he felt nothing but dread and unease settling in the pits of his stomach. The previous eliminations already took a toll on him, he couldn’t bear to lose another one—Jay of all people, who had been with him from I-Land, to Ground, and to I-Land back again. He genuinely couldn’t imagine waking up in that square hellhole without Jay.

And thank god he never did. 

He tucks the envelope inside a box with the rest of his valuables.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 

“Alright, that’s a wrap.” Their dance instructor says, satisfied with how clean their performance is, and concludes their rehearsals. They're all good to go for Orange Blood's promotions.

The sky has bled into a midnight blue, the streets devoid of civilians at such a late hour, the heavens filled with stars twinkling in the late autumn night. Jake wishes they could get off work earlier, but with a comeback scheduled in less than a month, that’s nearly impossible. Plus, they're preparing for the next leg of their tour.

He gets into the car with Jungwon and Ni-ki, the other four in the next car, and are finally going back to their dorms after spending almost twenty hours in the company building. His throat feels itchy and his muscles are aching, yearning for a long and restful sleep. But he isn’t really sure he’ll be able to get that when all that awaits them at home are boxes and boxes of their unpacked belongings. 

Spending most of their waking hours at the company and preparing for their new release means that they don’t get much downtime to do anything. They barely have time for rest, more so time to settle into their new rooms. Nonetheless, Jake is excited to go home, even if it means lying down on his bare mattress or having dinner between suitcases.

When they get home, their manager takes care of their food, knocking on their doors to ask what they want for dinner, or more like a midnight snack given the time. He comes to Jake's room while he's seated on the floor, trying to get just his essentials, having no energy to unpack everything.

"Jake, what are you getting?"

He looks around the room in thought. Well, he isn't exactly craving anything, so nothing particular comes to mind. Succumbing to his indecisiveness, he leaves the choice to someone else.

"I'll just have what Jay's having."

"Got it," he jots something down on his phone before disappearing to ask the rest of the members.

Admittedly, it's become a habit of theirs when they roomed together—on days when they're too tired to come up with a choice, or when their palate isn't exactly wanting something specific, they go with someone else's order. And in the process, Jake discovered that if there's anyone who knows good food, it's Jay. So he knows he's in good hands.

Half an hour later, their dinner is delivered, and for the first time they have their meals on separate floors. It's definitely quieter with just him, Jungwon, and Sunoo on one floor, but the repose is much welcome. He can't imagine how much noisier the 2nd floor might be. He unpacks his mystery dinner, and to his glee he finds juicy and savory galbi.

Sunoo pouts in jealousy at seeing his order. "I should've ordered that too."

Jake washes up after, conveniently not having to wait very long for his turn this time, and slips on the pajama set he had set aside. With a low groan that sounds more middle aged than anything, he crawls in bed and pulls the duvet he managed to dig out of one of the boxes over his tired and aching body.

When he was roommates with Jay, this would be the time where they'd take turns putting on muscle relief patches on places they can't reach themselves.

He'd sit on the edge of Jay's bed, shirt riding up over his shoulders as he directs him where to put it.

"Here?"

"To the left,"

"Here?"

"Your other left."

"This is my other left," Jay would grumble, pasting it on the expanse of the younger member's back nonetheless. And then they turn around and Jake does it for Jay too.

Sunoo probably has some patches in his room, but Jake's too tired to walk all the way there. He turns the lights off and is greeted by overwhelming darkness and silence. He's gotten quite used to Jay's little night light in the form of a small cat because he's too afraid to sleep in the abyss, though he never did and probably will never admit that out loud. He reasons that it's for decorative purposes. Jake of course, doesn't buy it and teases him relentlessly for it.

But as far as his teasing went, that little cat filled their old room with a warm and soft glow, painting the walls orange while the low volume of Jay watching another educational video of his hyperfixation that week lulls Jake to a quick slumber. And even in the middle of saying a sentence, Jake's out like a light, much to his roommate's disbelieving snort.

Now that there's a lack of another bed, some muscle relief patches, and a cat night light, Jake is left to toss and turn as he looks for a comfortable position that cradles his pained back.

For the first time in a while, he has trouble going to sleep.

When morning comes, he finds that someone else had it worse.

"Woah, you look like a mess." Jake notes as they get into the same car on the way to the company building.

"Gee, thanks." Jay replies dryly as he sinks deeper into his seat and burying his chin in the neckline of his jacket, hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep at least.

"Why, what happened?" The younger pries, fastening his seatbelt.

"Couldn't sleep,"

"I knew it," Jake says, cheeky, eyes glued on the streets that whiz by. "You can't sleep without me,"

"Shut up," is what Jay answers with a suffering groan before leaning against the window and tuning him out.

This day, they're focusing on running down the entire tour setlist with the new addition of their most recent songs, which isn't very good news considering all of them are a few stretches away from a flu. But the show must go on, and they push through, as they always have.

Jay, in particular, seems to be having a bad day. If the dark bags under his eyes aren't enough of a sign, he keeps holding his knee with a hiss of pain. He stretches his leg, rotates his ankles, anything to get that tension to dissipate from his muscles. Then he jumps back into learning the dance, only to mess it up with a burdened groan.

"Let's take a break," Their instructor says, and Jake's eyes follow the older boy's movements as he heads straight to the couch at the end of the room, swiping his water from the floor and gulping it down with more force than needed. The other boys seem to give him space, some talking amongst themselves, the others running down the new steps alone in front of the mirror.

Jake releases a silent huff, understanding immediately. See, he prides himself for knowing how to handle Jay best—he's learned how to quell his flames, calm his tides; knowing when to rush in or when to give him time. He's spent three years sleeping next to him after all. And right now, when the other members think that staying away is what's best, is where they're wrong.

Jay is earnest and thorough to a fault. He's innately hardworking and diligent, like it's built into his very system. Even on their rest days, he has an itinerary—an hour dedicated to practicing on his guitar, the next for learning languages. And just watching him makes Jake feel bad for choosing to rest, even when he knows Jay's intentions are nowhere near.

And because he is the way he is, he's hard on himself too.

"What's wrong?" Jake asks, more out of formality than anything as he drinks some water and joins him on the sofa. He already knows what's wrong, but perhaps getting Jay to talk about it would make him feel better.

"It's nothing," he sulks.

Jake presses his lips into a tight line. Jay's knee hurts, the pain isn't letting him focus on the dance. And now he's mad at himself for holding up the session for everyone else.

"You need to calm down," Jake says gently, but with a firm hand on his shoulder, wiggling his arm in an attempt to cheer him up. "You'll get it. You can do it."

For someone so headstrong, Jay sometimes has a habit of getting too lost inside it. His nerves get the best of him and drive him into a frenzy, thoughts running rampant they begin to trip over each other. But Jake knows all he needs is grounding, a gentle reminder that all his hours of hard work won't betray him.

"You can do it." He tells him, fingers fidgeting with the pockets of Jay's dress shirt. He glances up to see eighteen year old Jay, hair dyed blond and cheeks still plump with youth. They're backstage, a few minutes away from performing on their debut show.

The staff are busy running to and fro, walkie talkies up to their lips as they make sure all details are set. The members are scattered about, some of them stretching, some doing vocal warm ups. But he's seated on a small sofa, giving Jay a pep talk despite his own stomach churning unpleasantly as the noise around him swells into a deafening ringing.

"Don't be nervous," He repeats in a gentle tone. "You don't usually get nervous for things like this. Just concentrate. You can do this."

Jay nods firmly, squeezing his hand in silent thanks before standing up with a new glint of determination in his eyes.

"Alright, back to work!" Their dance instructor reminds them firmly, her voice bouncing off the walls. Their practice goes more smoothly this time, their movements slowly falling into sync as they master more of it.

Jake watches his teammates from the mirror and realizes how much baby fat Jay has lost since their debut.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A few weeks have passed since they moved dorms, and it's safe to say that Jake has now made a home out of his new room. His computer desk is now fully assembled with the new monitor he bought the previous weekend, each of his shoes have their own special cases, a shelf stands near the door filled with stuff he got from Tiffany & Co., and displayed by the foot of his bed are his Lego figurines, built with pride and patience.

After grueling hours of work, he gets to go home to a space he carefully curated. Now, his room is personal and intentional. Unlike before, where everything was solely out of necessity. He flops down against his mattress with a relieved sigh after washing up, looking around with a pleased smile over how he arranged his belongings. After years of rooming with the other boys, he's forgotten how much of a privilege privacy is.

Now, he gets to bask in that. He hums quietly to the tunes he puts on, having complete reign over what album to play as he picks out a few clothes to wear for that week. There are no more piles of laundry on the floor that he has to nag Jay for, and no more guitar case he has to carefully step over lest he gets an earful from its owner.

Getting ready for bed, he stands in front of the skincare products sitting atop one of his shelves, and he realizes he's out of cotton pads. So, he walks down the hall and knocks on Sunoo's open door. He pops his head through and makes eye contact with the younger boy through the mirror of his vanity table.

"What's up, hyung?" He asks, already in his pajamas and wearing a cute fluffy headband to keep his hair out of his face as he puts on a mask.

"Ran out of cotton pads, can I have some?"

"Knock yourself out," He says, vacating his vanity to go to his computer, off to play a few games before bed.

"You decorated your room so well, Sunoo-ya," Jake comments as he looks around, sitting on the edge of the bed as he gets a few pieces of cotton pads to last him before his next errand run.

"I know right," Sunoo says coyly with a grin, clicking away furiously on his mouse, his other hand preoccupied on the keyboard.

He decides to help himself with Sunoo's expensive toner too, doing his skincare right there. He's sure the younger boy wouldn't mind. Maybe. Well, he guesses it's fine as long as Sunoo doesn't turn around. "It's so nice finally having our own rooms, isn't it?"

"Please, you had it easy." Sunoo says before muttering under his breath about missing a shot in his game. "I shared a room with three other people. You only had Jay hyung."

"Sunoo-ya," Jake starts in this all-knowing tone that sometimes gets on Sunoo's nerves. Just hearing this makes him roll his eyes lightheartedly. "Do you know how much I had to put up with?"

Sunoo scoffs, eyes still glued to his computer screen. "Jay hyung isn't that bad. I've roomed with him before, during the tour."

"That's because it was only a week or two!" Jake clicks his tongue, knowing he wouldn't understand. He stands up from the bed, now armed with a freshly moisturized face and a lot more cotton pads than he's allowed. "Try rooming with him for three years, let's see how you put up."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Sunoo waves him off just as he goes back to his room.

It's true. Sharing a room with Jay is not for the weak. So he tells Sunoo all about this the following night.

"There was one time his laundry piled up into a small hill by our closet, I physically could not open the door." He says while lying on the younger boy's bed, exasperated while recalling how he had to actually exert effort to swing the door open just to gain access to his clothes.

"Really," Sunoo says, more focused on his skincare more than anything.

The anecdotes continue into the next day, this time it's Jungwon who has no choice but to listen while they film a few things for promotions.

"Or that time when we got our first paycheck and he splurged on guitar stuff." Jake says as they wait for the others to get their makeup done. Jungwon, being the good person he is, tries to lend an ear, albeit a little uninterested.

"His packages kept coming and coming until our floor was covered with boxes." Jake says, admittedly a little exaggerated, but very close to how he remembers the truth. "Like, who needs ten guitar pedals? And five amplifiers?"

"Jay hyung does, I guess?" Jungwon shrugs.

His tirade doesn't end just yet. Tonight he's lying next to Sunoo on the younger boy's bed, a laptop on his lap and the lights turned off.

"Did you know the wooden chair by our small desk collected mold because he kept leaving his wet towel there instead of hanging it out on the balcony to dry like I told him to?"

With a loud suffering sigh, Sunoo clicks the space bar on his laptop and turns to him with an impassive look. "Hyung, are you going to watch this drama with me or spend the whole night talking about Jay hyung?"

"Correction, I was talking about his bad habits, not him."

Sunoo scoffs, pushing Jake out of his bed. He's no longer invited to Drama Night. "If you miss him so much, you can just go up the elevator, you know?"

"I do not miss him. That's absurd," Jake snorts as he's helplessly shoved out of Sunoo's comfy covers. "I see him everyday,"

"Maybe you just miss bothering him." Sunoo says as he stands up to usher Jake out of his room completely. He couldn't care less about Jake's real reasons or whatever. But the bottom line is, he's holding up Sunoo's K-Drama night and that is a grave offense.

Jake goes back to his room, slightly dejected at being kicked out. But there is a silver lining; Sunoo's right. He can just go up the elevator and piss the hell out of his ex-roommate like the good old days. And so, the next night, that's exactly what he does.

The elevator dings when he reaches the floor above, and he struts into their space like he owns it. Ni-ki, for one, is happy to see him pay them a visit, and immediately tries to coerce him into a round of FIFA on their console. Jake promises to indulge him after dinner. But for now, he has some bothering to do.

He goes straight to Jay's bedroom and knocks obnoxiously. It's the first time he's going to see Jay's room for real, and he isn't exactly sure what to expect. Perhaps another pile by the closet? Boxes of equipment littering the floor? Or another blanket of mold growing on his wooden furniture.

He raps against the door once more, and in the middle of doing so, it swings open, and he comes face to face with a groggy looking Jay. His brows are knitted in the middle of his creased forehead, his disheveled hair a telltale sign of the good nap Jake just interrupted.

"What do you want?" Jay croaks, voice ridden with sleep as he dives back into his sheets, hoping to return to his dreams.

Jake follows him into the room, and to his utter surprise, the sight that greets him is one he would typically only see online—bottles of expensive liquor in a chic glass cabinet, a turntable on display next to collector vinyls, coordinated beddings, themed posters and wall decorations, and a comfortable lounge chair with pillows.

There isn't a single piece of dirty clothing in sight, no crawling mold, and his guitar equipment has its own organized corner. He hates to say it but it looks better than his room. Hell, Jay's room just might be the best decorated among all their rooms. He even has a cohesive color palette for goodness sake!

"What the fuck," are the only words that escape Jake's lips, the profanity piquing Jay's interest enough to raise his head and pop one eye open. "Why does it look this good?"

Still not completely awake, Jay crashes his head back against his pillow with a groan. "Guess I have a gift for interior design," A sudden pillow to his abdomen chases his slumber away with an oomph.

"Why weren't you this clean when we roomed together?" Jake says accusingly, feeling a little betrayed, hitting Jay with the nearest pillow he could find.

Jay grabs another pillow to shield himself. "There wasn't enough space!" Which is true, in hindsight. They couldn't afford the leisure of decoration or whatnot when they were lacking storage for even their very essentials. Now that Jay has a room where there's a place for everything, and everything is in its own place, cleanliness and organization are proving not to be much of a problem.

"This is so annoying," Jake mutters before chucking the pillow back into its place. He was so ready to collect new material for his teasing, but apparently not today.

"What do you want?" Jay asks, standing up and running through his messy hair with a sleepy yawn.

"I need my jacket back," He says with a palm out like a debt collector.

"Which one?"

"Leather. Big silver zippers on the side?" Jake motions to his waist where the pockets would be. He actually has five more leather jackets in rotation, but Jay doesn't need to know that.

He rarely borrows clothes, having his own "rock chic" wardrobe, but when he does, he has a tendency of forgetting he even borrowed it in the first place.

"Oh, the synthetic one?" Jay jabs, eyes now fully open and twinkling with mirth. Jake's face drops into a tepid expression.

"Yes. I'm against animal cruelty,"

With the lack of the reaction he was looking for, Jay heads straight to his closet, the younger boy following behind him. Upon opening the closet doors, revealing it to be lined with led lights, racks and drawers color coded. Jake mutters another curse under his breath.

"You've gotta be kidding me," He says, speechless with the over the top organization. He looks at Jay with disbelief. "So was that just a façade?" He asks, unable to reconcile his roommate Jay with the current Jay. "Were those three years just a lie?"

Jay snorts at his theatrics, looking through his closet in search of said synthetic leather jacket, but gets distracted midway.

"Jake, Jake. Look at this," He pushes a small button that ejects a hidden drawer of modest size, felt lined and containing all of Jay's premium ties.

Jake blinks and tries to school his face, but is unable to conceal his scowl, especially not when Jay's wiggling his brows at him from sheer pride of his little tie collection. Rich people sure are wired differently.

"You have a special drawer for your ties?" He says in dry incredulity. "You don't even know how to tie it."

Jay shrugs, now resuming his search for the borrowed jacket. "I have you anyway,"

Before Jake could even process or even react to it, the jacket is shoved into his hands. "Here, thanks for lending it."

Then Jay dives right back into his bed to doom scroll and rot for another hour or so before coming out just in time for dinner.

"Thanks," Jake murmurs, the extent of Jay's so-called interior design skills leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Should he buy more decor? Maybe he should look through wallpaper options.

Just as he's about to leave, he remembers what he had put in his back pocket before coming up. "Oh, and here," He fishes out the pack of muscle pain relief patches and throws it to Jay who barely catches it before it hits his face. His mother had bought him a whole box of it, says it's infused with some herbs or something. From experience, it really is a tad more effective than those cheap ones at the drug store. "Put it on your knee."

And so he leaves the floor with his jacket, an empty back pocket, new found spite for decoration, and a missed opportunity to bother and tease Jay as much as he would have wanted. Nevermind, he thinks, there are plenty of other opportunities for that.

Like an opportunity to, say, film promotional content for their album.

They're in the company building, all dressed up for a fun little photography competition. Heeseung follows the script with ease and explains the mechanics: split up into teams and take photos with orange related items on each floor. The team to get the highest number of votes wins.

To pick their teams, an orange box filled with tangerines is presented to them. Sunghoon, Ni-ki, and Jungwon all pick tangerines with a triangle drawn at the bottom. Sunoo and Heeseung pick ones with a circle. And that leaves Jay and Jake, both ending up with squares on their fruits.

Jake makes a show of shaking his head, trying to rile his teammate up, but the smile on his face doesn't really help much. "We'll be done in no time," He declares.

"I don't think you'll even get started," Jungwon quips.

Jay laughs, then puts an arm around Jake's shoulder, who in turn throws the banter to the other team. "No, Sunghoon's team will take the longest." It's true. Sunghoon is such a nitpicker that Jake's pretty confident the video will be edited to cut directly to him doing just that.

They bicker a little more before they're dispatched to their assigned areas. Jay and Jake head straight to the top floor where the company cafe and rooftop are located.

Most of the hallways are devoid of its usual bustle, with only a few staff lingering here and there. It's well past office hours, and the only ones in the building are Enhypen, and perhaps a few other idols opting to stay for more work.

They make their way up the elevator, the silence of the half empty building bringing about an eeriness that Jake can't quite shake. With a ding, they reach the rooftop and walk into the outdoor area.

The stars twinkle brightly overhead, littered across the black velvet sky, now more visible with the cafe lights turned off.

"It's so dark," Jay notes, fishing his phone out and turning its flashlight on.

"Are you scared, Jay-ya?" Jake snickers, looking around and trying to make sense of things, and while doing so, almost walks face first into a tangerine hanging on the rooftop's bamboo display.

"Here it is," Jay shines his light onto the fruit the same time Jake flinches from seeing it so close.

"That scared me," he says, stepping back, only to realize that getting spooked by an orange is an all time low, even for him. When he turns to look at Jay, he's already wearing an expression Jake wants to immediately wipe off.

"You were saying?" He asks, brows rising arrogantly.

He shoulders past the older boy. "Just hurry up and take the photo,"

They weave through the plants on the rooftop with nothing but the lights on their phones and cameras, and a little bit of help from the stars and the waning moon. It's not the first time they have taken a stroll together in the night like this.

"Jay, I'm hungry," he complains under his blankets.

"That's what you get for watching mukbangs at 2 am." Jay says, not even sparing him a glance from his own bed, eyes glued on his phone, his left hand cushioning the back of his head.

"Can you cook me something?"

"Cook it yourself,"

Jake pouts. If it was any of the younger members who asked, Jay would surely get out of bed just to fix up a meal. Talk about blatant favoritism. He crawls out of his covers and flops on the edge of Jay's bed.

"Look!" He shoves his phone into the older boy's face. "Doesn't it look so good?" With furrowed brows, Jay's eyes drift from Jake to the screen, a rich cheesy mix of buldak with juicy steak on the side greeting him. His own stomach grumbles, much to his chagrin.

"Fine," He relents with a sigh.

"Yay!" Jake doesn't bother hiding his glee, tailing Jay like an excited puppy as they exit their shared room. The older rummages through their kitchen cabinets as silently as he can, so as to not rouse the rest.

"We ran out of buldak?" He asks rhetorically, in disbelief as he skims through their pantry.

"Noooo," laments Jake, deflating at the thought of having his unsatisfied cravings haunting his dreams. Then he perks up with an idea. "Should we buy some?"

Jay looks at him hesitantly. "Right now?" Jake nods eagerly.

"No,"

"Aww, c'mon Jay, aren't you hungry too?" He whines, pleading with puppy eyes.

A second or two passes with Jay staring at him impassively before finally grabbing his wallet with yet another sigh. "Bundle up." Jake grins to himself as he does as he's told.

Jay may grump and grouch, but his defenses against a member in need aren't exactly impenetrable. Jake knows this well. He has a heart of gold and forgive Jake for exploiting this sometimes.

They shouldn't really be leaving the dorm at such an ungodly hour without their manager's knowledge and consent, but alas, the calls of their empty stomachs prove more powerful than company policy. Jay has Jake to blame for that, and he spends most of their walk to the nearest convenience store being very vocal about it. Jake couldn't care less, not when he's about to get some delicious food courtesy of his grumbling roommate.

Littered across the black velvet sky, the stars twinkle brightly overhead, now more visible with most of the building lights turned off.

"It's so dark," Jay notes, fishing his phone out and turning its flashlight on.

"Are you scared, Jay-ya?" Jake snickers.

He scoffs in response. "Please, you're jumpier than me."

To test this theory, Jake puts his developed acting skills to good use—pretending to see something in the bushes and clinging to Jay with a small shriek. Just as he expected, Jay jumps and mirrors his surprise, a laughable squeal escaping his lips.

"What? What? What is it?" He presses, holding onto Jake's arm, ready to use him as a shield from whatever it is—be it a bug or some kind of ghost. But the shock on his face falls and morphs into a scowl when he hears the younger boy giggling.

"I'd say it's a tie," He laughs, tears in his eyes as the funny look on Jay's face flashes in his mind. He should've snapped a photo to keep in his gallery to look at when he feels down.

The older boy walks away with a huff, storming into the convenience store. And as Jake watches his figure under the stars, looking for Jake's wanted buldak despite being made fun of, his brows furrowed and lips jutting out into a pout, an inexplicable sense of fondness swirls in his chest.

The cold breeze pulls him into deep thought. What are the odds of meeting Jay? What are the chances of being able to debut with someone he gets along with so well? Among millions of people, thousands of dreamers, and hundreds of trainees, they made it.

And now they're in the convenience store two blocks away from their dorm at three in the morning just because Jake said he was hungry. What are the probabilities of having someone so kind by his side? He smiles, feeling warm. Perhaps he has his multiple layers of jackets to fault.

He catches up to Jay, swinging an arm around his shoulder to make sure he isn't truly mad for the teasing. Jay doesn't brush him off, so he takes this as a good sign. They now weave through the aisles, scouring for their favorite brand.

"There it is," Jay points out and walks to his findings, approaching yet another orange thing on the rooftop café. This time it's a vase full of orange flowers.

"Hold it up in between our faces," Jay directs, monitoring from the phone he's holding up, front cam on standby. "Like we're sniffing it,"

Jake sputters in laughter but does it anyway. Oh, the things they do for the fans. He leans forward, the tip of his nose brushing against the petals, but then he meets Jay's gaze from the other side of the bouquet and he nearly chokes on his spit.

"Close your eyes!" Jake manages between giggles. He has never been one to be able to look Jay in the eye without losing his composure, though he isn't exactly sure why. He's just always reasoned that it was too funny a sight.

Obediently, Jay's eyes flutter shut, and he waits in good faith, blonde hair falling over the sides of his face. Jake has never stood this close to Jay before—close enough to notice the faint collection of freckles under his eyes, or the light scar on his nose. There's something indecipherable that churns in Jake's stomach, crawling up to his throat. He closes his eyes as well, leaning forward and angling his face. Only then does the itching feeling in his chest become too much that he has to pull away in nervous laughter.

"Wait, this is too…" Too awkward, he thinks. Why the hell are they closing their eyes with their noses buried in the synthetic smell of the plastic flowers between them anyway?

It takes them a moment to stop laughing from the absurdity of it all, and finally, they snap a photo.

They move onto their last photo, taking on a funnier concept and using the tangerines as a mouthguard and then making a boxing pose. It's comical, yes, especially with the way Jay's so into it. They reconvene with the rest of the members and review everyone's work. Heeseung and Sunoo did well, as expected, taking on a rather talented approach with a video of them singing. Ni-ki, Sunghoon, and Jungwon on the other hand were more relaxed with their takes, striking silly poses and wearing bright neon wigs.

Then it's their turn. The fact that they're teamed up seems to be enough reason to laugh, the members chuckling at their first photo when it isn't particularly funny in Jake's opinion.

The second photo flashes on the big screen, and all of the sudden the laughter dies down into an awkward silence. Jake looks around with a tight smile, wondering why they aren't clutching their bellies giggling at the sheer absurdity of them sniffing the flowers together.

"It's not as good as…" Sunghoon trails off lightheartedly, perhaps to try and save the dead air. Heeseung is kind enough to indulge them with a chuckle, until Jungwon ultimately says. "Let's move on,"

They end up winning, though it's because of their last photo, and not because of their flower photo, much to Jake's dismay. Nonetheless, they still win a bunch of orange goodies they surely won't eat anyway.

Just before they leave, Jake asks for a copy of their photos—to use for birthday greetings, he says.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

They kick off the comeback without a hitch, immediately heading to the US for promotions. The late November breeze welcomes them, the cold brushing through Jake's hair once they exit the airport. He squints his eyes and buries his hands in his pockets. He expected just as much, having packed perfect clothes for the weather. What he didn't really expect, is the nature of their events while there.

If you told seventeen year old Jake that he'd be debuting with only months of training in his experience, and three years down the road would be attending the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade to promote Enhypen's appearance and featured song on the new Baby Shark movie, he'd never believe it. He wonders how they went from vampires to cartoon sharks. But then again, they did do Hey Tayo and Billy Poco, so he supposes they aren't that far off. Besides, it's still an opportunity for exposure after all. And kids are monster streamers—if every stream turns into a dollar and goes straight into his pocket, he doesn't really mind going around the city in a float with colorful shark figurines.

Another thing that caught him off guard was the amount of fans that showed up just for them. He was anticipating a crowd of families, maybe some elders, and definitely a lot of children. Instead, he sees numerous pickets and lightsticks in the sea of people. They erupt into screams the moment all seven of them walk up the float, the cheering making Jake's heart swell.

They're followed throughout the parade, fans screaming their names here and there. Jake smiles, giggling to himself when he waves at a handful of fans carrying a large picket of his face and they shriek ecstatically. It's always been a delight to go out and meet their supporters, but the nipping cold is making it a little difficult. Next to him, Ni-ki, who is dressed in a brown wool and leather jacket, shivers.

"Are you cold?" Jake asks, immediately untying the gray scarf wrapped around his own neck. Before the youngest could even finish nodding, Jake swings the scarf around him, bundling him up and hoping it keeps the chill at bay.

The float pauses a little, allowing them a moment of repose, and to mingle better with the crowd. Jake tries his best to make eye contact, being generous with his smiles, especially if he spots his own fans. Not realizing how long he's been holding onto the float's metal railing, his hands begin to go numb from the cold. He swings his hand, hoping to bring back some feeling, then he brings it up to his lips, breathing warm air into his fist.

All of the sudden, something hits his side, and when he turns, he sees Jay with brows knit. "Where's your scarf?" He asks.

"It's with Ni-ki, he got cold."

"Why aren't you wearing gloves?" He says pointedly, gesturing to Jake's bare hands.

He grins sheepishly, shoving his icy hands into his pockets and away from Jay's prying eyes. "I forgot,"

"How could you forget?" with a light swat on his arm, Jay scolds him, which he rarely does. Between the two of them, it's usually Jake who does the scolding, and Jay who gets it. Though the older boy would complain and say that it's uncalled for, and Jake would reason that he's doing it out of love—which is half a truth. Most of the time he's just doing it for fun.

But of course, there are times when the roles reverse, and it's Jake who's getting an earful. Like when he came down with a horrible fever after they had an underwater shoot during the winter earlier that year. All because he failed to take a warm bath when they got home despite the managers reminding them to.

"How could you forget?" Jay clicks his tongue, placing a bowl of piping hot porridge by his bedside, along with a glass of water and some medicine.

"I just passed out, man," he croaks, throat hoarse and nose runny as he sits up on his bed, accepting the food with grateful hands.

"Careful, it's hot,"

Jake heeds this warning and blows on it, taking a sip and immediately sighing in relief. "Your cooking is the best, Jay-ya."

Jay scoffs, not believing a word he says. "Even better than your mom's?"

In the middle of taking another sip, he freezes, eyes darting around the room in thought. "I wouldn't go that far…"

They break out into low chuckles as Jay waits for him to finish the bowl, making sure he drinks his medicine lest, in his loopy feverish state, he forgets that too. After all that's done, Jake sinks back under his covers, drifting off to sleep as he feels something cold pressed against his forehead.

When he comes to, he sees Jay on the other side of the room, reading a book with some French on the cover. The entire day has gone by in a blink, the night sky peeking through their window, lights turned off to allow him more rest. "You okay?" His roommate asks, noticing him waking.

His stomach rumbles, his tongue feeling particularly parched for yet another bowl of Jay's porridge, but he feels most of the heat draining from his body. He sits up and rubs his eyes with a sleepy smile.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," He reassures, turning around to wave at the fans on the other side of the float, though he feels Jay's sharp gaze burning through the back of his head.

When he goes back to his hotel room that night, he thinks how perfect Jay's porridge would be for the weather, until his train of thought is interrupted with a loud and painful sneeze. Jay's surely going to chew his ear off if this progresses into a full fever. Grimacing, he digs through his bag and immediately downs some vitamins.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The second letter comes to him first in the Christmas of 2020, written in colored pens in the living room of their first dorm. It comes back to him on the last day of November, three years later.

They've filmed the bulk of their Christmas content during their free time in autumn, but with Christmas quickly approaching, they decide to film a few more things at the last minute. Unlike the rest of their shoots, this time, they're ushered into a room one by one. Dressed in reds and greens, Jake stays in the waiting room until it's his turn. He guesses that it isn't really a major shoot, given their wardrobe and makeup, and would probably finish in an hour.

They're to be briefed about the concept and given directions once inside the room, so while Jake waits, playing some games on his phone, he doesn't really have an idea what's in store.

Jungwon goes first, then Sunghoon, then he's called in.

A lone table stands in the middle of the room, draped in a deep red table cloth, the background filled with giant boxes wrapped like gifts and one medium sized Christmas tree. "Oh? What's this?" He asks, taking the seat behind the table, his eyes drifting to the letter awaiting on top. He glances at the staff beyond the bright lights focused on him and receives no direction.

So he decides to follow his instincts, now honed by years in front of the camera, knowing well enough what makes good content, what the fans would like to see. He takes the small red envelope in hand and slips out the folded paper inside. Curious, he opens it, only to find the penmanship he knows all too well.

The second letter finds its way to him once more.

All of the sudden he's eighteen again, clad in a new set of pajamas while seated on their couch, their humble Christmas tree standing to his right. Seated on the floor in front of him, is Jay, wearing a snapback while he tries to casually read aloud the letter he wrote after much hesitation.

"Do I really have to?" He asks, shifting in his spot, uneasy. The members urge him, egg him on, pushing him to just get along with it. And so with a heavy sigh, he does.

"To Jaeyunie, I'm right next to you as I write this letter." He starts, and Jake couldn't fight back the smile that's growing on his lips "As part of the 02z, we were always together on the broadcast and I treasure you a lot."

Jay tries to rush through his words, but apparently he doesn't go fast enough because Jake hears them loud and clear. His grin grows bigger, heat spreading through his chest and to the tips of his ears.

"I'm so happy I get to spend Christmas with you." That odd warmth keeps crawling through his veins until the tips of his fingers are buzzing. "From now on, let's get closer and have lots of fun! From, Jay."

He glances up from the letter and looks into the camera. "Aww, Jay-ya!" He says in a sing-song voice the older boy would surely find annoying.

"What are your thoughts?" The director asks through her face mask.

Jake's gaze falls onto the letter once more, smiling as the pad of his thumb traces the green ink Jay picked out just for him. "Ah, we were so young." He breathes, nostalgia coating his words as he stares off. "We just debuted and we were trying to find our footing. My Korean was still bad at that time, so I relied a lot on Jay. Well, I still do, in some ways. That first Christmas with everyone was really memorable." The director seems pleased enough with his answer to move onto the next part.

"Please read the next letter,"

Obediently, his eyes scan the other page, only now recalling that they wrote letters for their future members as well. This one is addressed to 2021 Jake, but it appears the staff forgot all about it and are only bringing it out now. The first letter he recalls, but this one is new to him, having covered his ears when Jay read it aloud years ago.

"To Jaeyunie, This is 2020 Jongseong," he starts, finding it quite amazing that he could read Jay's chicken scratch penmanship just fine. "At this point, would we still be eating ramyeon every night?" The question is so simple, so innocent, yet it oddly begins to weigh on Jake. "Would we be closer than before?" His voice falters into a wistful cadence.

"It's been a year since we became adults, so as the second and third eldest, let's work hard together for our team! Fighting!"

He looks up to the camera with a tender smile, then to the director.

"How would you answer that?"

Jake takes a deep breath, pursing his lips in thought as he fidgets with the letter. "…No, we don't eat ramyeon every night. Because we're not roommates anymore." he laughs dryly. "We live on separate floors and we just usually order our own food." Only now does he realize how far away those nightly ramyeon escapades feel—tucked away in a distant memory along with Jay's night light and their shared room. Would it be strange to admit he misses that? Before he sinks deeper into that thought, he moves onto the next question.

"Yes, of course, we are closer than before. We were roommates for three years after all." He presses his lips into a tight smile. "Let's keep working hard without getting hurt, Jay-ya! Fighting!"

That night, he goes straight up to the 2nd floor and cooks ramyeon, much to the quizzical glances he's given by the members.

"Why are you cooking here?" Jay tilts his head in question, towel around his neck, hair damp and fresh out of the shower.

"We ran out," is the excuse he gives before placing the pot on the table. "Want some?"

The older boy pauses for a while in contemplation, before eventually shrugging and joining him. They talk about a few things, none of which are the letter Jake just read that afternoon. Jay probably forgot all about it anyway.

Jake asks what his current hyperfixation is, which is odd because he used to know whenever Jay moved onto some other niche topic, and Jay asks him about the most current football competitions.

He wonders how they went from knowing the inner workings of each other's mind to small talk.

Christmas comes along, and after all their holiday performances, they're seated on a couch in one of the practice rooms, dressed in pajamas once more. The room is fashioned to look cozy, like they're spending Christmas eve in the comforts of their own homes instead of the company building. Which they should be doing, but unfortunately can't.

Their set this time is more festive, with a fully decorated tree, a fuzzy rug beneath their feet, garlands hung on the wall behind them, and balloons scattered around the floor. Even the couch is filled with stuffed toys, and right next to the tree is a giant teddy bear that Ni-ki immediately pets the moment they enter. They start talking about their Christmas experiences during their childhood, reminiscing just when they found out Santa isn't real. Halfway through, Jake gets distracted by a gingerbread man plushie lying crushed behind him and decides to pull it out.

"He looks like he's from cookie run," Sunoo notes, turning around from where he's sitting on the floor.

"Jake hyung, can you do the cookie chiropractics? Like you did before?' Jungwon asks. Upon their leader's request, he starts this funny little skit, as he sometimes does, and lays the doll down his lap for a session.

In front of him, sitting on the floor next to Sunoo, Jay turns around to watch him with a small smile, and even goes as far as holding down the gingerbread man's feet down to help. All eyes are on him, waiting in baited breath and immersed in the show. Finally, he twists the doll's neck like he's seen in the parody videos and all the members crack up, no pun intended. He does another round, fully in character.

"Breathe in and out," He says, then pulls its neck, which in hindsight, might look pretty grotesque for a Christmas live, but it's funny to him and to the other members. Especially to Jay, who laughs louder than everyone else, eyes crinkling as he watches Jake's antics. His gaze lingers, and when Jake notices this, the boy's eyes dart to the doll, borrowing it and trying his hand at the whole chiropractor thing.

The joke doesn't land as well as it did the first two times, and Jake's heart squeezes a little with sympathy. Poor Jay. He grips his shoulder and humors him with a chuckle.

Sunghoon spots one of their staff holding up a whiteboard, signaling them to move onto the next segment. "So we bought each other gifts…but before that, how about we go around and say something nice about the members and how they did something for Enhypen?"

These are the types of conversations they rarely partake in, not when they're this forced anyway. They are vocal when they appreciate each other at that very moment, but doing it like this just feels like they're in kindergarten huddled around in a circle complimenting their classmates upon the teacher's orders. But then again, Engenes like these kinds of things—seeing their chemistry and bond, and Jake can't blame them for that.

So they take turns doing just that, but somewhere along the way it turns from appreciating a member to appreciating oneself, which is quite silly, but still well meant nonetheless. "I organized our towels," Jungwon says with a shrug, telling them about how he sacrificed his turn in the shower to fix all of their towels. They nod and smile, acknowledging his efforts.

It's Heeseung's turn and he's a little bummed, unable to think of what to say. "Well, I did make you guys laugh," And as a testament to that, they all immediately agree. It's true, Heeseung's jokes make the biggest difference on a tiring day.

"Without Heeseung hyung, my days are so…" so bleak, Jake thinks.

Sunghoon shares his sentiments. "It's difficult when Jay and Heeseung hyung aren't here,"

"These days for me, it's Jake." Jay adds, hugging the teddy bear that is almost as big as he is.

"I can't do without Jay," supplies Heeseung, his words nearly overlapping with the former. So much so that perhaps Jay found a need to repeat himself.

"These days, I need Jake."

There it is again—the room gradually falling silent, and it happens in such a peculiar way that makes Jake's breath hitch in his throat. He blinks, bust constricting like his lungs are too big to fit in his ribcage.

Jaks snaps out of his stupor when he hears Ni-ki's quiet snort. "Alright, I'll pick you too." He says, much to the amusement of the rest while he gives Jay's shoulder a squeeze. "For me it's Jay," He adds, hoping his voice sounds lighthearted enough, and Sunoo's growing laughter drowns out the drumming in his chest.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

They set out to Taipei immediately after the New Year's for the Asia leg of their tour, and Jake can't help but feel good for what's in store for them this year.

Gathered around in a restaurant, they talk about their performances over dinner—what they would like to improve, which parts stood out to them, how to polish their formations. Jungwon mentions their ments, specifically the ones where they'd have to keep the audience occupied while half of the group changes outfits backstage.

"Someone could always do a short cover," Sunghoon suggests before popping a dumpling into his mouth.

Their young leader nods in contemplation, weighing their options. "Anyone up for it?"

"Jake hyung can do it," Ni-ki says, looking awfully at peace since he won't be the one having to add a song cover to his list of responsibilities.

Jake's head whips up to him in mild surprise. Well, he has been mentioning wanting to do a cover. Looks like the youngest remembered well enough to volunteer him for it. He takes a second to think about it.

"Okay, I'll do it." He relents. Jungwon nods with a grin, typing a few things on his phone—notes perhaps, to deliver to the concert director. "What song though?" Jake follows up.

"You can just do a song you're used to. It'll be just a short part of it anyway," Supplies Heeseung.

"How about that song hyung?" Sunoo trails off in thought, chopsticks midair while he tries to remember the title. "The one you used for your audition."

"Ah, Love Yourself?" Sunoo nods in response, and it gets Jake thinking. He knows all of the words, popular and fairly easy to sing too, but he would like to spruce it up—sprinkle a little more flavor for their lovely fans.

"Jay, can you help me?" He asks, glancing over to the boy at the farthest end of the table, only to see him already looking. Without even asking about the details, he nods.

That night, Jake invades the hotel room Jay shares with Sunghoon, jumping into one of the twin beds clad in a comfy set of sweatpants and a hoodie.

"So, what's up?" Jay asks while he unpacks his skincare from his luggage. In the background, the shower runs with Sunghoon inside, the sound of the water filling the gaps of silence.

"Can you play the guitar for me?"

Jay blinks at him. "Sure? I guess,"

He gets his guitar case from the corner of the room and lays it on the floor ever so carefully, as if it's made of the most fragile glass. He opens the zipper, and gingerly takes out his beloved guitar. He's so cautious with it, it's almost ridiculous. Jake breathes out a quiet, endeared laugh as he watches the older boy from behind. Jay has always been like this—treating what he loves with the utmost care, gentle with his gestures, tender with his words.

With his acoustic guitar in hand, he sits across Jake on the other bed, their knees knocking against each other in the narrow space in between. His fingers naturally find their places on the fretboard and on the strings, and soft mellow strumming begins to fill the room.

"Why did you suddenly want me to play for you?" Jay asks as he plays, eyes glued to his left hand as he switches chords on what Jake now recognizes as Wonderwall by Oasis.

"I just figured that Engenes would love to see both of us. It's a pretty boring song after all." It's a quick and easy way to elevate a one minute song cover.

"What?" Jay's eyes snap up to him, then seem to realize something. "Oh, yeah Love Yourself. Right—" he mumbles, fishing out his phone albeit a little clumsily, much to Jake's confusion. "Let me just– let me just search up the chords."

Jake waits patiently and doesn't comment on Jay's obvious stumble. With what, Jake doesn't know, and he doesn't pry. Soon enough, Jay plays the familiar intro to the song, and Jake hops on without a hitch.

He taps the tempo on his knee as they fall in sync, heads nodding along to the rhythm. Jay adjusts his playing to fit Jake's singing, and the grin on the latter's face grows when he realizes just how good they sound. "Oh, they're gonna love this,"

"Of course," Jay smiles at him, and all of the sudden the room is too small for the both of them. Or perhaps the air conditioning is malfunctioning, Jake thinks. They'd have to call room service for that.

"What's going on?" Sunghoon asks by the door of the bathroom, looking at them as he towels his hair.

"We're practicing his cover," Jay answers, putting his guitar aside.

"Do you think we can do this tomorrow?" asks Jake, standing up from the bed to go back to his own room.

"I still have to memorize the chords…how about we do it next week? In Singapore."

Jake does the math in his head before agreeing. Gives him ample time to prepare for it as well. "Okay, deal. I'll tell Jungwon."

They're backstage a few hours before their Taipei concert starts, and everyone is taking their fill of the food they got from catering. With his plate packed with as much as he can eat before the show, Jake takes the empty seat next to Jay who's already helping himself to the bulgogi.

He glances over when Jake pulls the chair out and settles down beside him, phone in hand. "Jay, for this part of the song, do you think we can pause a little here?" They move closer to each other, huddling over the phone to hear it better amidst the backstage bustle, and Jay keeps an ear out for the part Jake mentioned.

"I can also slow it down here," He says mid-chew as he taps on Jake's phone to rewind a few seconds. "So you can take your time and use your charm on the audience,"

"Aww, Jay-ya!" Jake starts, and his tone immediately has Jay sighing and moving a few inches away. "You think I'm charming?" He bats his eyelashes and puts on a coy show Jay has seen too many times.

He brings his attention back to his food, not sparing Jake another glance. "You wouldn't be an idol if you weren't."

Jay would just usually roll his eyes, ignore him, or flat out deny it. But only now does he say something in agreement. Jake flushes. Is the air conditioning broken everywhere in Taipei? And why is it even hot when it's January? Well, they are closer to the equator than South Korea is. Jake supposes that's the reason.

The show begins after a while, and at this point, the flow is deeply ingrained in the fissures of Jake's mind and muscles. After Attention Please, it's Paradoxxx Invasion, then Tamed-Dashed. Their summer song comes to an end with the clamoring cheers filling up the arena, and Jake runs backstage with Jay, Sunghoon and Sunoo for a quick wardrobe change. The other three stay on stage to hold the fort up while they do.

Multiple sets of hands immediately help him out of his garb, changing black and white streetwear for a beige blazer and some slacks. There's a comb and hairspray fixing his stray strands, and a soft towel dabbing away the sweat on his neck. He's offered an energy drink, which he takes a few sips of, and is given a last layer of setting powder to make sure his makeup doesn't budge.

Through the tangle of hands blocking his sight, he spots Jay in a similar predicament, only, he's handed his guitar, a staff member fastening the strap behind him and plugging in the wireless connector. After a few minutes of touch ups and catching their breaths, they're ushered back to the stage, onto the awaiting set of bleachers liberally adorned with flowers for their unit performance.

Four of them take their spots, hidden behind the led screen while the voices of the other three ring through their in-ears. Jay is seated in front of Jake, guitar on his lap and a mic stand to his side. He shifts—adjusting the guitar strap, then the mic stand, but he lowers it too much that he has to clumsily tweak its position a few more times. Taking a deep breath, he cracks his knuckles and straightens his back. Taking notice of his nerves, Jake squeezes his shoulders from behind.

"You okay?"

"I'm nervous," Jay breathes. It's been two months since their last concert stop, and not having played the guitar in front of an audience for that long is enough to make him feel uneasy. "My fingers are freezing up."

"1 minute!" The stage manager announces, and Jay anxiously starts flexing his fingers in hopes it would help.

"Give 'em here," Jake says, setting his mic down, and once Jay swivels around to face him as much as he could, he takes both his hands in between his and rubs them together, sharing his warmth. He even leans down to get closer, and brings their joint hands to his lips.

"30 seconds!"

He exhales through his mouth, warm breath spreading across their fingertips. Half a minute feels half a lifetime, the air stilling in that very moment, and Jake keeps doing what he does—steady hands moving like he's lighting a fire in the cold woods. Jake looks down to see Jay staring at him—the expression on his face indecipherable, and his heart stutters.

"5…4…3…2—"

Jay flinches away like he's been burned, gaze falling elsewhere and muttering a thanks under his breath before he swivels around. Jake blinks at the abruptness, but brushes it off in favor of the concert he has to focus on. The led screen parts, the smoke machine whirs, and he performs his guitar part impeccably, just as Jake had expected.

The crowd seems to love the performance, given how loud their screams are once it finishes. When another one of their ments come along, Jake is sure to mention just how talented Jay is. "Did you enjoy it everyone?" He asks, cupping his hand around his ear to hear the cheers. "Jay plays the guitar so well, don't you think?" He follows up, putting a hand on the older boy's shoulder. The audience agrees in unison, and the sheepish smile Jay gives in return is priceless—even brighter than their biggest spotlight. Jake makes a mental note to praise him more.

Their second day in Taipei flows more smoothly, the team now picking up steam after breaking through the rather slow start to their year. With an hour left until showtime, Jake has free time to spare. He's finished getting his make up done, and is on standby for his costume. In the meantime, the staff give him a camera to film with, and off he goes to bother the rest of the boys.

His first victim is Sunoo, who's sitting on the couch munching on some local chips while watching a movie on his phone. He shoves the camera in his face, much to the younger's mild surprise. Still, he indulges Jake, smiling at the cam and showing off his beautiful ocean blue contact lenses.

Jake prances off to Ni-ki next, who's busy perusing the food table and got his hands on some gummies. After much convincing, he gets their youngest to hand feed him a few.

Then, he walks to Jay, who just finished getting his makeup done as well, and is waiting patiently for the next step on one of the chairs. "Jay-ya~" He starts, tone playful as he nears him, armed with the camera. He moves it around Jay like a malfunctioning drone, giggles escaping him as he watches the older's reactions through the screen. Jay puts on a scowl that doesn't exactly look convincing. The camera zeroes in on his lips, and he snarls like a cute little kitten. "Jay's kitty fangs," Jake narrates.

"Jay's round head," he moves to show the camera exactly this—hand caressing the curve of Jay's head a few times just to prove a point. The older boy doesn't budge and just lets him, just as he had done before.

"Your hair's pretty soft," Jake murmurs, combing through his strands as they rest on the couch in the living room of I-Land. Exhausted out of his mind, Jay had kicked off his slippers and dived into the cushions, head resting upon the pillow near Jake's lap. Soon enough, Jake's curious hands had found their way to the tufts of his hair, fingers weaving through his silky mane.

Jay merely hums in response, seeming too tired to form a thought, his breathing becoming deeper with each stroke of his hair, likely lulled to sleep.

"Jay,"

He hums again, nuzzling against the pillow and relishing in the feeling of Jake's fingertips lightly grazing his scalp.

"Do you think we're going to debut together?"

His eyes snap open, fighting against the slumber that so badly wants to claim him. He shifts to look at Jake properly, the younger boy hovering over him with worry written on his face.

"Of course we are," Jay scoffs, like anything else is simply absurd. And it's this steadfast certainty, be it a little baseless at that time, that gives Jake the strength to push forward. How can he doubt their future when Jay is so sure of it? 

He smiles, a little shaky, but reassured, as he resumes brushing through Jay's hair. Emboldened fingers start to wander to his skin, tracing the curve of his ear, then the line of his jaw, until it arrives on the heart-shaped mark on the boy's neck. Jake chuckles silently, marveling at the sight. Jay is simply so full of love that it escaped his heart and made its presence known on his skin.

"Actually this…" he trails off. "I like this part the most," He tells the camera, zooming in on Jay's birthmark. The older boy gives him a wayward glance, before huffing out a chuckle, and walking away.

They fly back to Korea to rest for a week, and Jake has an excuse to spend almost every day of it in Jay's room.

"Can we go over the chorus again? I think we're not really matching up on the tempo," he requests, twirling around on Jay's computer chair while the older boy is on his bed, back against the wall, guitar in his lap.

"Sure," he does as he's told, and he adjusts the timing to better accommodate Jake's rendition of the song. After a few tries, Jake pauses in thought.

"Do you think we should just remove the refrain and head straight to the pre-chorus?"

"If that's what you want, go for it. I'm just here to support you," Jay probably means this literally—support as the guitarist, catering to the wants and needs of the vocalist—but Jake can't help but feel moved by the implications, struggling to fight off the smile worming its way to his lips.

"Okay, let's head straight to the pre-chorus then,"

Their practice sessions continue for the rest of the week despite their busy schedule of rehearsals and En-o'clock filming squeezed in; and despite the questions they get from the other members. "Do you really have to practice that hard for a one minute cover?" Ni-ki asks over breakfast once.

"Ni-ki-ya," Jake starts in that certain tone again. "You know Jay, he's a perfectionist."

Ni-ki knows damn well Jay isn't the one who keeps pressing for more practice sessions, so he merely huffs and goes off to wash the bowl he used for cereal.

Spending time with Jay like this makes him realize just how he missed his company—their late night conversations, their joint skincare routines, even getting ready together in the morning when they're running late. Sunoo was right. Jake misses all of it, even the mundane—no, especially the mundane, and it has him craving for more.

They're in the airport en route to Singapore, and their manager is handing out their tickets. They get to fly prestige now that they're bringing in more money with the continuous success of their albums and tours.

"Who wants seat A14?" Jay holds out his hand and receives it.

"A15?" Jungwon ends up taking this. The rest of the boys don't really mind where they sit, but not Jake—he's waiting for a certain seat.

"A16?" Heeseung raises his hand and gets it.

"B14?"

"Mine!" Jake exclaims, perhaps a little too eagerly that it makes their heads turn to him quizzically. He grins sheepishly and takes the ticket from their manager, pleased with himself. They board the plane not long after, and he's on Jay's tail as they head to their assigned seats. The older boy puts his bag in the overhead compartment before making his way to the window seat. Jake follows suit and flops down next to him with a content sigh.

Jay raises a brow, eyes studying him. "Did something good happen?"

"No, not really." Jake beams, playing it cool. He mentions being excited for his cover, and not the fact that he gets to spend six whole hours beside him.

Jay nods, not thinking much of his answer, finger tapping on the screen before him.

"Are you going to watch a movie?" Jake inquires, slipping on his jacket as he settles in for the flight.

"Yeah. James Bond."

"Again?"

Jay looks at him like he's uncultured. "There are twenty seven James Bond movies."

Jake doesn't get it, and he scrunches his nose to express just that. "So which one are you going to watch?"

At this, the older boy pauses, a faint tint of pink on his cheeks. "…Casino Royale,"

Snorting, Jake shakes his head, well aware that Jay has indeed watched this particular film and is in fact watching it again for the nth time. Jay plugs in the wired earphones he brought with him and offers him one of the buds. He stares at it contemplatively for a second before shrugging and putting it on.

Two hours later, Jay is snoozing on his shoulder and his eyes are completely glued to the screen. He finally understands why Jay loves it so much, and consequently, just how much this film influenced him. He sees it in the way Jay dresses, in the way he carries himself, and even in the perfume he picks out.

The movie ends after so much running and explosion, and when the end credits roll, Jake glances at the boy leaning on his shoulder, snoring quietly with his lips pursed in a pout. A smile ploddingly dawns on his lips at the sight. Jay's so cute like this—nuzzled against him, hair falling over his cheekbones, arms crossed over his chest. But then again, Jake thinks Jay has always been cute, contrary to the older boy's own belief.

With an affectionate and feathery pat on his head, Jake lets him be, lending his shoulder for the next half hour or so even if it meant going numb on his left side. He snaps a few pictures for safe keeping before scrolling on his phone to kill some time—going on Weverse and replying to some Engenes.

After a while, Jay finally stirs, eyes bleary and neck stiff as he shifts into a new position.

"Oh, you're up. I finished the movie," Jake tells him, glancing over to check how he is, only to stop in his tracks when he notices a trail of saliva from the corner of Jay's mouth all the way to his chin. He giggles, much to the older's half-asleep confusion.

"You drooled," He says, thumb darting out to wipe it dry, lightly grazing his lip.

See, this isn't exactly new to them. They share straws and eat with the same utensils often to the point of falling sick together, so contact with each other's saliva isn't uncommon. Heck, Jay even held his hand under Jake's chin once while he helped apply medicine on his mouth sores, fully ready to catch spit with his bare palm.

And yet, Jay's eyes fly open as though alarmed, inching back in bewilderment, all drowsiness leaving his system in an instant. "S-sorry about that," He stands up abruptly and excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Jake is left no choice but to watch his retreating figure, perplexed. He taps his foot, spending a few minutes without his seatmate, and he briefly wanders if the toilet had swallowed Jay whole.

After a while, he emerges, and upon his return, the cabin crew start serving them food. Between their meals and the new movie Jay put on without offering him one earphone bud, they don't exchange many words for the rest of the flight.

That night, after checking into their hotel rooms, Jake lies wide awake wondering if he did anything wrong.

Morning comes and it's as if nothing happened. Jay is his usual self—laughing around with Jungwon, teasing Sunoo, teased by Heeseung.

They're in the concert venue for rehearsals, and Jay walks up to him with his guitar. "It's our turn for soundcheck,"

Making their way to the stage, Jake can't help but mull over recent happenings, stealing a glance at the guitarist, yet finding no sort of awkwardness or hostility. Maybe Jay, fresh from his deep power nap, was simply caught off guard with his gesture. But Jake can't really afford to worry about that now, not with the concert and his song cover quickly approaching, so he pushes this to the back of his mind in the meantime.

They take their seats on the edge of the stage while the managers coordinate with those in the tech booth. Upon their instruction, Jay plucks a few strings while the sound engineer whips up the perfect mixing.

Jake is staring off, mind elsewhere as he anxiously brushes through his hair, when his eyes wander off to his cover partner.

Jay plays around on his guitar, plucking a string off-tune when they meet eyes. He plays it again to ease Jake's tension, and as the note echoes around the arena, they find themselves sharing a smile.

"You okay?"

He blinks and turns to him, his question taking a few seconds to sink in. "Yeah, just…just nervous," Which is the truth, in a way, but not the whole truth. He shakes his head and wills himself to focus.

"Can we check the sound of his guitar that comes through my in-ear?" He stands up, covering his eyes from the blinding spotlight to talk to the tech.

For the rest of the hour, they go over it meticulously, Jake requesting numerous trials to get things right. Some of the other members join them on stage, Jungwon even going to the bleachers to monitor the sound feedback from there. At some point, they're even given chairs because of how long they've been rehearsing.

"Okay, can we try that again?" Jake says for the nth time. And while Jay doesn't complain, he flexes his wrist and blows on his aching fingertips.

"Sorry," Jake says, guilty, reaching out to take Jay's hand and rub his calloused fingers.

Jay shifts, retracting his hand immediately and focusing on his guitar. "It's fine,"

Jake's outstretched hand falls limp to his side, but is given no time to process it when the sound engineer gives him the go signal to try again. Helplessly, he pushes aside the feelings of his chest getting heavier, and sings once more.

Perhaps it is the nature of their job to put on a smile even when they don't mean it, because the concert goes on like any other, festive and filled with laughter, despite Jake's inner turmoil. He even goes as far as putting an arm around Jay or patting his head during their ments to test the waters, and sees none of the rejection he got during rehearsals. And as Jay plays along with him, hand on his waist while they jump to their songs, Jake can't help his growing confusion. Maybe he was just looking into things too much.

"Are you ready to hear something special?" Sunoo says, setting up the stage for their cover. "They seriously prepared a lot for this, so stay tuned!"

Jake takes a huge gulp of water, his heart drumming so loudly he could hear it in his ears. On the other side of the stage, Jay slips on the guitar, and gives him a firm nod. "You got this," he mouths, before playing the intro he knows like the back of his hand.

The crowd immediately cheers upon recognizing the song, and sings along with Jake once he starts. It comes to him naturally now, having practiced extensively for the past few days.

He glances over to Jay, pointing to him while he sings, and for a split second, Jay's eyes lift up from his guitar and meet his gaze at this very moment. He smiles, then looks back down his guitar. Huh, maybe Jake really was worrying over nothing—both about the song cover and Jay.

Jake wraps up the song with the Engene's deafening cheers, and a loud butt smack from Jay to congratulate him for a job well done. This effectively lifts his spirits, and he finishes the concert with the biggest grin on his face.

After, on their mandatory post-concert live, they all file into a small room and squeeze into a small couch. Jake claims the seat next to Jay, of course, a newfound spring in his step. They talk about how to start the live, and somehow someone suggested just shouting as loud as they can. The stream begins with Jungwon and Jay's boisterous shouts, the latter's voice ringing too close to Jake's ear.

He turns to Jay and cups his jaw to stop him, and albeit with a slightly panicked look flashing in his eyes for a millisecond, he does.

There it is again—the room gradually falling silent with everyone’s owlish gazes on them, and it happens in such a peculiar way that makes Jake's breath hitch in his throat. He blinks, bust constricting like his lungs are too big to fit in his ribcage. Thankfully, Jungwon jumps in with their group interaction, and eliminates the dead air.

After a while, they say their usual stuff to the fans—words of thanks, mostly, and end the live, heading to their hotel to retire for the night.

"Hey, Jay, wanna grab some food? My treat," Jake offers once they're in the lobby, which earns a slighted turn of the head from Sunghoon.

"Just Jay?" He asks, offended on behalf of the other five boys.

"He played the guitar for me!" He defends. Besides, feeding seven hungry boys after an exhausting day would simply be too much for his wallet to handle.

"Sorry, Jake. I'm tired. I'll pass on that, but thanks." Is all Jay says before disappearing into the elevator and off to his room.

Baffled at his sudden exit, Jake and Sunghoon share a glance.

"I'm not," Sunghoon says with a cheeky grin.

On the flight back home, Jake ends up next to Jay once more, but this time it's a coincidence. He's seated first, now by the window, fixing his things while he waits for his seatmate. To his surprise, it's Sunoo who settles down next to him.

"I thought Jay was sitting here?" He questions.

"Oh, Jay hyung swapped with me," Sunoo says, putting his fox neck pillow on his shoulders. "Says he wants the window seat."

Jake turns around, kneeling on his seat to search for the older boy, only to spot him wearing a sleeping mask next to Jungwon a few rows behind them. He flumps back down on his seat with a pout. "He could've just swapped with me,"

Sunoo gives him a shrug, turning on his tablet to put on his latest drama watch. "Maybe he just didn't want to sit next to you."

"That's absurd, why wouldn't he wanna sit with me?" Jake snorts, though, there's a slightly painful twinge in his chest at the possibility.

Unfortunately, Sunoo has a habit of saying things that worm into the folds of Jake's brain and burrow there for an indefinite amount of time. First it was about Jake missing Jay, now it's about Jay avoiding him. And as far as track record goes, Sunoo's is golden. With each passing day they spend, Jake can see Sunoo's theory being proved little by little.

They're in Macau for their last tour stop for the month, and as usual, the members are playing around during their ments—interacting with fans and giving them enough reasons to scream their lungs off. They've gotten a habit of messing with each other when they're flashed on the big screen, and tonight, Jake has taken it upon himself to tease Jay, as he most often does.

With the camera on him, Jay prepares to do his part in the script, only to be interrupted by Jake snaking his one hand to his nape, the other under his chin—a big grin on his face as he lightly presses the older boy's cheeks.

This doesn't even last a few seconds before Jay rips Jake's hands off him with his lips set in a cold line, and while Jake's smile doesn't falter, his heart does. There's another small twinge of pain that he is yet again forced to ignore.

Their concert in the Philippines isn't all that different. They put on a show with smiles for the fans, having fun with their carts that go around the stadium, and Jay proves that he's meant to be an idol—jumping around and having fun without a care in the world, like there isn't anything wrong between them. But Jake knows better—sees things slipping through the cracks of a polished mask.

They all stand side by side for the final bow, and Jake holds Jay's hand earlier than everyone else. Jungwon speaks of their gratitude, and all their joint hands rise in the air to take the final bow. The moment the led screen conceals them from the audience, Jay draws his hand back like he couldn't spend another minute touching Jake.

And as he watches Jay walking away, he feels something inside him die a little.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"He hates me,"

Sunghoon's face crumples dismissively. "He does not hate you,"

"He hates me!" Jake whines, burying his face in the arms he has crossed over the company's cafe table. They're now back in Korea, staying for four weeks straight to get started on their new album before kicking off yet another world tour. Jake isn't too thrilled about this. He doesn't think he can travel the world with Jay refusing to talk to him and acting like he has the cooties.

"What's your basis on this?" questions Sunghoon, sipping on his iced americano, looking out the windows on the rooftop.

"Have you not seen the way he's been avoiding me?"

"Like when?"

"In Macau, when I touched his face and he pulled my hands away so fast."

Sunghoon blinks at him, trying to recall said moment. "Jay's always like that, he pretends he's mad when you tease him,"

"Or in the Philippines, he was disgusted when we held hands for the final bow. He pulled away the moment the screens closed!"

"I mean, why would you be holding hands backstage anyway?" Sunghoon poses a valid point, but only ends up fueling Jake's frustration.

"Sunghoon-ah," Jake says, again in that all knowing tone of his, "You don't get it. It's like he's genuinely mad at me this time,"

"Well, does he have any reason to be?"

He pauses at this, retracing his steps, rethinking his actions, wondering where it all started going down hill. They were great at Macy's, and alright during Love Yourself practice. After much thought, all roads lead to their flight to Singapore. Jake melts in defeat. "I think it's because I insulted James Bond."

Sunghoon sputters, fangs on full display as he laughs in disbelief. "James Bond?"

"You know how Jay doesn't play about James Bond,"

With a sigh, Sunghoon puts his coffee down and faces him properly for the first time during their whole conversation. "Jake," He says, in a serious tone—like he's breaking some hard-to-swallow scolding to an emotionally insecure high schooler, and for the first time Jake realizes how annoying he must've been talking to everyone like that. "Jay isn't that petty. If it bothers you so much, just talk to him."

Jake glances at him, worrying his lip, knowing that he's right.

He doesn't do it immediately—or rather, he can't. He spends a couple days and a few nights pondering about it, staring off in deep thought. Jungwon even asks him once if he's okay, taking notice of his uncharacteristic behavior. With a nervous smile, he brushes it off, reasoning that he's just tired from their tour.

They're called into a meeting room where they're set to listen to the finalized tracklist for their next album. While taking their seats around the table, Jake fails to ignore the way Jay claims the chair farthest away. Their staff introduces eight songs for this album—playing the demos one by one. It has a wide variety of genres, and the members react positively to each one, the melody, lyrics, or beat, appealing to them.

Jake's attention, however, is taken not by the refreshing title track, or the upbeat B-sides, but by a song called Hundred Broken Hearts. And the only things that register in his Jay-riddled mind are the lyrics about separation and heartache. He must've gone completely insane now, to be affected by the song like this, and he has Jay to blame.

A week later, they start their first recording sessions for Romance : Untold, and he’s called to sit in and stand by while Jay records his parts. He does it with flying colors—with proper technique and just the right amount of emotion to evoke reaction. Jake’s reaction, to be more specific, borders on unknown territory, wading in uncharted waters as he feels something indescribable while watching Jay.

The producer compliments the way he belted out the last tune, and Jay’s eyes twinkle, crinkling at the ends until they disappear completely behind his smile.

Jake feels that twinge of pain again, like when he dances too powerfully that his muscles begin to cramp. Only, this cramp he feels in his chest. He wonders briefly which doctor to see for something like this.

When has Jay last smiled at him like that? Or even remotely looked in his direction? Realizing that he cannot recall it, Jake decides that he’s had enough of this crippling pain.

His piping hot coffee has long gone cold in front of him as he waits in the convenience store just beside their apartment building. It’s 2:50 in the morning, and he’s been sitting by the window for half an hour, keeping his eye open for their company-issued van to arrive.

Jay was asked to stay behind, along with Heeseung and Sunghoon, to work on a few extra things for their album. And Jake has decided to wait, no matter how long. 

He holds the coffee in his hands, pouring over and over, again and again, on what to say. Where does he even begin? Does he ask if Jay is mad? Does he question what he did wrong? Does he tell him that he misses him?

The sound of a car pulling up to the parking lot in front of him snaps him from his spiraling thoughts, and he locks eyes with Sunghoon who steps out first, followed by Jay. Sunghoon gives Jake a curious tilt of the head, but seems to understand well enough, given the way he taps Jay’s shoulder and points to the convenience store.

Something churns in Jake’s stomach when Jay follows Sunghoon’s pointed finger, only to look away in the blink of an eye. He gulps as they talk about something, Sunghoon motioning to Jake, then to their building. Suddenly, the drumming in his chest gets louder and louder when Sunghoon and Heeseung head to their dorms, leaving Jay alone. 

Then, Jay turns; and for the first time in weeks, he looks at Jake.

He makes his way to the convenience store, and Jake could feel the sweat collecting in the dip of his spine despite it only being February. The door opens with the ring of the bell overhead, and the seat beside Jake becomes occupied, the weight of the impending conversation settling on his shoulders.

There’s a long, stilted silence that envelopes them, Jake licking his lips anxiously, fidgeting with the coffee cup between his palms as he looks anywhere else but Jay.

“Why are you still up?” It’s Jay who shatters the quiet, eyes trained on the empty road outside. 

“I uh- had a lot on my mind,” Jake says with a shaky breath.

“Is that why you’re having coffee here and not in the dorm?” 

Jake musters up the courage, and it comes up his throat in a bubble that makes him want to throw up. “I was…I was waiting for you,” He steals a quick glance, enough to catch the hint of surprise in Jay’s face. But he has never been one to be able to look Jay in the eye without losing his composure.

“Me? Why?”

A beat. Jake stares at the swirls in his coffee. Then at the flickering lamppost across the street. Then at the blinking traffic light. The wind picks up. “Why are you avoiding me?”

Another beat. His seatmate has fallen so silent that he’s compelled to look. Jay’s expression is indecipherable, as it has been in the past few weeks, and it frustrates Jake tremendously because he used to be able to read Jay so well. He used to know what he was thinking just from the furrow of his brow or the scrunch of his nose. And now, it’s as if he has forgotten to read altogether—foreign words jumbled together before him with which he has no way of decoding.

“I-I’m not avoiding you,” Jay says, slow and careful. Almost calculated.

“Really? Because it sure feels like it,” Jake is unable to suppress the hurt in his tone. The wind grows stronger, swirling around itself like a typhoon. 

“You drop my hand and pull away like you’re disgusted. You swap seats with the others when you realize you’d be sitting next to me. You wouldn’t even look at me for the past month!” The strong gust of wind now drowns him, bringing with it a raging storm.

“It’s not like that—”

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks, because if he did, he’s ready to grovel and apologize—anything to bring back how they used to be. His chest constricts. Jake never thought it would be this painful to watch a best friend slowly turn into a stranger. His voice shakes as he looks away, refusing to let Jay see the tears welling in his eyes.

“No, no! You didn’t!” Jay says, tugging on his sleeve to force him to look at him, his calmness ebbing away when he sees Jake’s tears. He takes the younger boy’s face in his hands ever so carefully, as if he's made of the most fragile glass, cradling his cheek and wiping away the tears. 

“I’m sorry that I made you feel that way, that wasn’t my intention, I promise,” He says in a hushed voice, gentle with his gestures, tender with his words.

Almost immediately, the storm begins to falter, and the waves begin to still. 

“What was your intention then?” He asks, wiping his own tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie. At this question, he sees the mask Jay had recently put on slip for a fragment of a second, then he schools his face instantly.

“Nothing, I was just tired from the tour, I guess. I didn’t notice,” 

Doubt fills Jake’s chest, but is swallowed by sympathy and understanding. He’s been there before afterall—being so exhausted that even talking feels like a chore, burnt out to the point of apathy.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear,” Jay offers him a meek smile, and after a few seconds of searching for sincerity in his eyes, which he immediately finds, Jake relents.

“You can start now. I want that ice cream,” he says, pointing to the newest flavor on display. 

Jay chuckles at this. “If you get a sore throat while we record our album, that’s on you, okay?” 

Sunghoon was right, which Sunoo probably wouldn’t be very pleased to hear; but after talking it out, Jake feels the unbearable weight on his chest lifted. 

True to his words, Jay really is putting in the effort in making it up to him. No more looking away, no more avoiding. No more running away. He meets Jake where he is.

Jake already feels better, immediately, like the storm passing after weeks of torment, the sun finally shining through the clouds.

They’ve recorded most of their songs and filmed En-o’clock content on the side. One episode has a horror concept, and Jake secretly relishes the way Jay clings to him while they go through an abandoned building. He wraps his arms around the older boy and vows to protect him even if he’s pretty scared himself.

They progress further into working on their album, and Jay has gone back to black hair after a few months of being blond. “How is it?” He asks once he got home from the parlor.

Jake takes one look at the frizz, one touch of its texture, and comes to a resolute conclusion. “Your hair is fried, man.” Jay scoffs, but smiles nonetheless, and Jake thinks they’re back to normal.

That is, until they get a unit shoot for one of the album concepts. 

It’s a bright day in the beginning of April, the sunlight streaming through the windows of the laundromat they’re filming in. This concept is supposed to feel casual—mundane, things that happen just any other day. Which is probably why he and Jay are pretending to do laundry, of all things.

“Jake, can you get into the cart?” The director points to a small wheeled cart in the corner, meant to hold piles of clothes. Obediently, he pulls it close to the chairs lining the walls, and uses one as a step to get into the cart, which, in hindsight, might not be the best idea.

“You’re going to fall.” Jay clicks his tongue, watching him from the sides with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I am not.” Jake scoffs, offended, hopping up the chair and trying to keep the wheeled cart stable while he puts one foot in.

With a sigh, Jay pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to him, not having it in his heart to let Jake fall just to prove that he’s right. He puts one hand on the cart, and offers the other to the younger boy. 

“Aww, Jay. You love me so much.” Jake grins, taking his hand and settling into the cart while the boy scoffs and shakes his head. The shoot starts off like that, and is followed with similar, lighthearted scenes. They’re asked to play a round of Tekken on the vintage console right by the washing machines, and while it’s only part of the concept, Jake makes sure to kick Jay’s ass, much to his complaints.

“Okay, look here!” The director says, and so they glance over their shoulders. But in the process of doing so, they lock eyes for a split second, and immediately burst out into a fit of giggles. They’re instructed to turn around completely, and put their arms around each other like they’re in a lighthearted tussle. This part, of course, comes naturally to them. 

But when Jay puts an arm around his shoulder and locks him in place with his other hand, Jake suddenly grows aware of the drumming in his chest. Maybe it’s the affogato he had that morning. 

They move onto the actual laundry, with cameras everywhere, even inside the washing machine itself. Instructed to do it like how they usually would, the two of them start loading the clothes into the machine. Just one shirt later, they’re already bickering, with Jay grabbing the white sweater from the younger boy’s hands.

“Separate the colored ones,” He nags, merely earning yet another uncaring giggle from Jake. His scolding falls upon deaf ears, because Jake just does it again.

Jay clicks his tongue, tugging the poor innocent clothes from Jake’s clutches. “Do the white ones first, and then the colored ones.”

“Alright, can you peek into the machine?” Says the director, disrupting their small argument, monitoring the footage from the camera inside. They do as they’re told, and Jay places his arm around his shoulder, bringing their heads closer into the opening of the machine, and Jake can’t help but feel hyperaware of where Jay is touching him.

Truth be told, this started when Jay pledged to make it up to him, and perhaps to Jay, that meant constantly invading Jake’s personal space, which he doesn’t really mind, but it takes a while to get used to. Jay would claim the seat next to him, squeeze beside him in a couch that isn’t meant to support both of them, and even get real close when they’re monitoring their dance practices, huddled over one small phone. And with Jay constantly breathing down his neck like this, Jake thinks that he should be careful what he wishes for. Because now every single touch is sending a chill down his spine, tickling his sides, and sending his adrenaline into a rush.

He pushes Jay into the machine teasingly, and with a short attempt at a wrestling match, they wrap up their unit shoot. 

Evening comes with a gentle breeze, and all the members get together in a small cozy house for the group photoshoot. The maknaes are cooking heart shaped pancakes, and Jake isn’t sure if it’s just for the concept or if they’re really going to eat it. The second possibility worries him a little, because at the rate Sunoo and Ni-ki are going, it’s not going to be very edible.

“Can you two whip up something too? We got you some ingredients,” one of their personnels tells them, giving them a small grocery bag. Jay looks through the products inside, and heads over to the kitchen, folding his sleeves and getting to work.

“What are we cooking?” Jake asks, peering over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the ingredients he’s prepping.

“We can make some simple pasta, I think.” Jay answers, perusing through the cabinets to look for a pot.

Taking a look at the things they have on hand, Jake suggests a recipe he knows well, having had it a numerous amount of time when he lived in Australia. Jay agrees, filling up the pot with water and setting it down the stove to boil. They work around the kitchen like a well-oiled clock despite the short squabbles sprinkled here and there. Well, they’re quite used to it, Jake supposes, given the fact that it’s always the two of them in the kitchen whenever they’re on a group trip. They just always know how to work with and around each other—Jay boils the pasta perfectly, Jake cooks the tomato sauce, Jay lightly grills the meatballs, and Jake brings out the plates.

Jake takes a small amount of sauce with a spoon, blowing on it before hovering it near Jay’s lips. Without so much of a word, the older boy takes it in his mouth, eyes darting around in thought as he smacks his lips together. “A little bland,” 

He steps behind Jake and opens the cabinet overhead, and with Jake squeezed in between him and the stove, he feels heat rising up his face. “Here,” he says, giving Jake the seasonings he got from above.

In stark contrast to the maknaes’ pancakes, their dish turns out looking a lot more appetizing, which is why Jake is sure to show it off to the waiting cameras. The two of them are now seated, awaiting further instruction.

“Tomato beef pasta,” Jake tells the cameras, and next to him, Jay inches closer, slightly caging him with an arm to the backrest of his seat. His breath hitches a little in his throat, carrying on with filming while feeling conscious of the proximity.

“Wow, this feels like a real food show,” he muses, seeing the footage on the monitor next to the camera. “Ahh~” Jake jokes around, bringing the plate even closer to the lens, acting like he’s going to feed the viewers.

Then, on the monitor, he sees Jay smile. He follows Jay’s gaze, and realizes that he isn’t smiling at the camera, but at him, as he watches through the monitor, Jake’s heart nearly teeters to a fatal stop. It’s not the megawatt grin he dons when he performs on stage for millions. This one is small, shy…and tender, like it’s meant just for him.

He takes a deep breath and forces his attention back to filming, talking about how he’s had this dish when he lived in Australia, and all throughout Jay listens to him attentively, asking questions about his childhood there. From his peripheral, Jake sees him staring, the weight of his gaze bringing about a warmth he can’t quite explain.

And as the older boy nods and empathizes with his homesickness and nostalgia, it dawns on Jake.

It wasn’t the negative temperature at the Macy’s Day Parade in New York, it wasn’t the busted air conditioning in Taipei. It wasn’t the long flight to Singapore that caused…whatever it was brewing in the pits of his stomach.

It was Jay.

It has always been Jay. 

There's another small twinge in his chest that he is yet again forced to ignore, only this time, it isn’t painful.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

It’s been a week or two since Jake came to the devastating realization that he is undoubtedly, madly, truly, deeply in love with his ex-roommate. And he thanks the heavens that they’re neck deep in album preparations, giving him no downtime to worry about his potentially disastrous emotions. Which, on second thought, might not be such a good thing after all, because they’re practicing their new choreography and Jake cannot, for the love of god, tear his eyes away from Jay’s reflection, leading him to make countless mistakes and consequently disrupt practice.

"Let's take a break," Their instructor says, and Jake heads straight to the couch at the end of the room, swiping his water from the floor and gulping it down with more force than needed. The other boys seem to give him space, some talking amongst themselves, the others running down the new steps alone in front of the mirror.

Jay notices this, unfortunately, and follows him.

"What's wrong?" he asks, joining him on the sofa.

"It's nothing," Jake sulks, and Jay looks at him studiously, like he’s the new language he’s trying to learn. The younger boy shifts uneasily under his scrutiny.

Jay nods, though doesn’t seem to believe his answer. “You got this,” he says, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance, which does anything but for Jake. Instead, his heart drums rabidly against his ribcage.

By some miracle, Jake survives the next few days, and before he knows it, Jay’s birthday arrives. Actually, he’s prepared for it, having ordered his birthday gift a month prior, and for weeks it’s been lying under his bed, hidden in black plastic like it’s some form of contraband. 

He locks his door and pulls it out from underneath. In all fairness, it wasn’t that easy to acquire. Jake only happened upon it after long nights of scouring the internet. He dusts it off, cuts the plastic, and there it is—a full original DVD collection of James Bond, in all its 007 glory. It’s quite hefty, spanning almost two feet, with no gift bag that could possibly contain it. Which is why, armed with two sheets of stylish wrapping paper and his poor craftsmanship, he wraps the box into a frankensteined mess.

“Jay wouldn’t mind, right?” Jake murmurs to himself as he puts on the last piece of tape. “It’s the thought that counts, right?” He steps back to admire his handiwork and thinks that he’d definitely judge if he was the one who received such a badly wrapped gift. But Jay isn’t like him. He’s kindhearted, and thoughtful, and generous, and Jake would simply run out of time if he were to list all the good things about Jay, which is everything about him. 

Dusk falls over them in a quiet hush, and Jake guesses that the birthday boy is still in the company finishing up with his birthday live. Taking advantage of his absence, he rides up the elevator with the heavy gift in hand, and trespasses into Jay’s room.

The plan is to put the gift on Jay’s bed, or desk, or wherever it is as long as he sees it, and go back to his room and wait for Jay to come bursting in, over the moon and hugging him for his wonderful gift. 

Jay’s room is just as he remembers it the first time he visited—chic and organized, the aesthetics such a spot on representation of Jay’s personality and preferences. He places the gift on top of the bed, even going out of his way to arrange the boy’s duvet for a more picturesque image.

He steps back proudly, making sure that everything is perfect—from the way the beddings are laid, to the way the gift sits atop. With a content smile, he looks around, noticing that Jay’s liquor collection has grown. Curious, he looks through the cabinet, taking his sweet time knowing that Jay won’t be home until a few hours anyway. He slides the glass door open and inspects the beautifully crafted liquor bottles with amazement. Gingerly, after scanning each one, he returns them to their rightful places.

He then wanders off to the guitar corner, where he notices yet another new pedal. For someone with so much equipment, it’s a shame he never really gets to use it in front of a crowd. For a second, he wonders if they can perform in a special band performance for Engenes. Jay plays the lead, and he can play the bass.

Taking a few more steps around the room leisurely, his eyes land on the black and white portrait just above Jay’s computer desk, unable to recognize the artist. It’s probably a band from the 80s that Jay grew up loving because he’d hear it on his dad’s radio. Around the computer monitor, are small figurines of great variation, all of which still follow a color scheme. There are small guitars, a black cat, and some small KAWS pieces.

Jake chuckles to himself, finding the small KAWS piece he gifted Jay two years ago sitting right next to his speakers.

Then, his eyes are drawn to something white—a piece of paper peeking from underneath the keyboard, standing out in stark contrast to Jay’s all black set up. He knows he shouldn’t be snooping around someone else’s belongings, but it calls to him like a siren to a sailor—tempting him to jump. He shakes his head and turns away; he has overstayed his welcome.

But when he arrives in front of the door, he pauses, hand lingering on the door knob, the piece of paper on his mind like an itch he can’t scratch. Finally, his resolve crumbles, and he crosses the threshold of Jay’s room in three steps, fingers taking the paper from underneath the keyboard.

The third letter finds him on the evening of Jay’s birthday. Or rather, he finds it, pressed between surfaces meant to conceal it. Curious, he opens the folded paper, only to find the penmanship he knows all too well.

A sharp gasp escapes him just from the first word—

His name. 

And as he keeps reading, the flurry of words is lost to the erratic beating of his heart.

Sim Jaeyun,

What should I do?

Where do I even begin? I filmed with you today, in the laundromat, and I just thought that—in another life, I would have really liked doing laundry and taxes with you. But you might not get that reference because you haven't watched Everything Everywhere All at Once yet because you seem to have an aversion to good movies. But while we were filming, I couldn't help but recall the days when we roomed together. Would it be bizarre to admit I miss that? But then again, I've admitted far worse in these letters of mine with the belief that these will never see the light of day. I will take these to my grave.

I've done something horrible. I made you cry, and seeing you shed those tears made me feel absolutely gutted. Hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do. Though, a part of me also felt delighted, as evil as it may sound, over the fact that you thought me worthy of your tears. I didn't want to avoid you, but I was afraid that if I didn't, my heart would simply combust and the flames would engulf me whole. I didn't know what to do, not when you were holding my hand to chase the cold away or wiping away my stupid drool. Not when you were looking at me brightly, with a twinkle in your eyes I know isn't meant for me. Not in the way I want them to be anyway. I didn't know what to do, Jakey, and I still don't.

But I think I've gotten better at hiding it. I think the acting lessons are paying off. I can put an arm around you without breaking into a sweat, and just today, when we cooked together, I didn't make a complete fool out of myself, thankfully. I promised that I'd make it up to you, and I hope it's working. And I've decided to do just that every single day from here on out, even if that means I feel like I—

"What are you doing here?"

The sudden sound makes Jake flinch, freezing in his spot. Jay has come home earlier than expected, still dolled up from his previous schedules.

His eyes fly to the paper in his hand, and the confusion written in his face turns to dread, all color draining from him. Jay storms over, grabbing the paper with a livid furrow in his brow, nearly ripping it from doing so. "You're not supposed to read that!"

"I'm sorry," Jake sputters, inching back. "It was— I just—" he gestures uselessly to Jay's computer. "I just came by to drop off your gift,"

Jay closes his eyes and pinches his nose bridge in frustration, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. "How much did you read?"

"Until the 3rd paragraph," Jake guiltily confesses, fidgeting with his hands.

At this, all the life seems to bleed from Jay's body, his bones turning into putty as he weakly flumps on the edge of his bed. He buries his face in his palms, the paper held between his fingers crumpling in the process. Jake can feel his desolation from a mile away, and seeing him like this makes his chest pang.

Still, Jake hasn't fully processed the letter yet. He was reading it like a complex math equation that needed solving, checking the variables, double checking the numbers to make sure he read it right and his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. And he was just about to reach the conclusion when Jay walked in on him.

"Oh Jake," he laments, like he's done someone horrible and utterly irreversible. "I've been trying hard—so hard to make things normal between us."

Jake blinks, brows knitted in thought, slowly piecing two and two together. And all of the sudden, there it is—the answer to Jake's equation, the conclusion to the letter, and it dawns upon him, fast and strong. His heart starts picking up its pace, butterflies flying rampant in his stomach at the sudden realization.

"To go back to how we were before I liked—"

"You like me too?" Jake breathes, chest heaving as if he had run a marathon.

Jay stills, and he remains frozen in his spot for a second, then another, before he lifts his head ever so slowly. His eyes narrow in confusion. "What did you say?"

"You…like me too?" It feels foreign on Jake's tongue—a language he's never spoken.

Jay stands up carefully, eyes searching Jake's for any hint of jest. But he finds none.

"…too?" he asks once more, just to be sure.

"Yes, too. Also, as well, in addition–"

"I know what it means, Jake! I just–" Jay stops mid sentence, glowing beet red. A shaky grin worms its way to his lips, which he immediately bites back and hides with the hand still holding the letter. He looks around, not knowing what to do with himself, and he's just so cute like this Jake thinks he might burst at the seams.

Jay's excitement is contagious, Jake finds, his cheeks hurting from the grin he's trying to hold back as he watches Jay—his sweet adorable Jay, try to cope with the sudden epiphany. The cuteness aggression fizzes up inside Jake's system like a shaken bottle of cola, and the eruption has him jumping from his spot and lunging towards the older boy.

"You're so cute," he exclaims, wrapping his arms around his neck.

The abrupt force sends them toppling a few steps back, but Jay catches him with an arm around his waist, steadying them, a great contrast to his not so steady heart rate.

"Do you–" he gulps, glancing back and forth at Jake's eyes in pure disbelief. "Do you really like me?"

"I do," Jake says, the words leaving him in such a rush that it surprises the both of them.

Jay still can't wrap his mind around it. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Jake snorts. "Why not? What's not to like?" he says, tracing the faint collection of freckles that dust the highs of Jay's cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

Jake never thought it would be physically possible to grow any redder, but here comes Jay, showing that the possibilities are limitless, and endless. The current predicament they are in is a testament of just that.

"Do you?" Jake asks. He's gotten the gist of it in the letter, but never really got around to the part where Jay states it clearly.

The older boy releases a short, nervous breath. "Of course, I do." he says, slighted that Jake would even think otherwise. "Why do you think I avoided you?"

"I thought you hated me!" Jake admits, a little sheepishly now.

"Oh, Jakey." Jay says, brushing the few stray strands away from Jake's face, gentle with his gestures, tender with his words. "I could never hate you. You can break my heart and leave me to die and I still wouldn't be able to,"

"Drama queen," Jake snorts, but something blooms in his chest nonetheless. And after months of being unable to decipher what the feeling is, he knows it now—overwhelming fondness that crawls throughout his very being, seizing his lungs and coiling around his heart.

Jay flushes and tries to deflect the teasing. "Well, I'm not the one who cried ove—"

Jake shuts him up with a finger to his lips, and this time, Jay doesn't run away to the plane's bathroom. This time he stays, and he gulps, and powers through what he feels is an impending heart attack.

"Close your eyes," Jake whispers. He has never been one to be able to look Jay in the eye without losing his composure, now he's pretty sure he knows why.

Obediently, Jay's eyes flutter shut, and he waits in good faith, black hair falling over the sides of his face. Jake has only ever stood this close to Jay once—close enough to notice the faint collection of freckles under his eyes, or the light scar on his nose. He closes his eyes as well, leaning forward and angling his face. This time, there are no orange flowers in between them.

He places a shy chaste kiss on the older boy's lips, grazing against them slightly before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

Jay's eyes fly open, looking winded once he realizes what had happened. And in a flash, he pulls Jake back against him, hand finding its rightful place on his jaw, and crashes their lips together.

It's everything Jake had imagined—it's fireworks on a summer night, it's a supernova burning against the earth's atmosphere, it's a flash of lightning across the dark horizon, it's Jay finally closing the distance between them.

Their lips slot perfectly against each other, Jake's fingers slipping through the strands of his hair, messing up the gel the stylists had applied. A small sound escapes him when Jay's hands tightly grip his sides, circling around his waist before pulling him flush against his chest like he can't be any closer. Jake asks for permission, and perhaps forgiveness as well, with a coy lick to his bottom lip, to which the older boy immediately yields. Because his resolve is nonexistent when it comes to Jake. He will always give, and crumble, and succumb.

Tongues dance around each other, famished, deciding that the months spent apart and walking on eggshells were enough. Jake's teeth capture just a snag of Jay's lip, and the playful nip elicits a shy moan from the latter, pride flourishing in Jake's chest at the thought that he caused it.

Emboldened lips start to wander to his skin, pepping feathery light kisses that make Jay squirm in his arms, tracing the curve of his ear, then the line of his jaw, until it arrives on the heart-shaped mark on the boy's neck. Jake chuckles silently, marveling at the sight. Jay is simply so full of love that it escaped his heart and made its presence known on his skin.

"Actually this…" he trails off. "I like this part the most," He says, before taking the skin between his teeth, placing a bright red love mark on top of it, the older boy's mewls all the while sending pleasant shivers down Jake's spine. Jay gives him a wayward glance, before huffing out a chuckle, and pulling him back up to close the rift.

Jay tugs them backward, to his bed, limbs tangled and lips connected in a breathless dance. He falls against his cushions, ready to twist around to pin Jake underneath him, when all of the sudden, his landing makes him yelp in pain.

"Ow! What was that?" He complains, rubbing the sore spot on his back and turning to find the culprit. What greets him is a poorly wrapped gift, spanning around two feet long, lying on his bed and effectively cockblocking him. "What is that?"

Jake grins sheepishly. "Happy birthday…?"

Jay takes the gift and carefully places it on the floor. "I'll open that later. I have a better gift waiting for me,"

Getting the message loud and clear, Jake flashes a wolfish smile, biting his lips in pure thrill, he shimmies out of his jacket and jumps into the bed to join him.

The morning after Jay's birthday is like any other, and for once, they get to sleep in. Sunghoon stretches with a loud groan as he bathes in the sunlight streaming through their living room windows, joints cracking with each stretch. Determined to spend their day off to the fullest, Sunghoon has already decided to give his hobbies the love and attention they've been deprived of. His League of Legends account has been collecting quite the layer of dust since they've been on tour, which is why playing is all he's going to do today.

The thing is, he remembers lending Jay his lucky mouse, and he can't win without that. So he heads straight to Jay's room, knocks twice just for the sake of it, and turns the knob before he's permitted in. Jay's there in his bed, with his back to the door, still snoring. "Hey Jay, I'm taking my mouse back,"

From behind Jay's figure, to Sunghoon's utter bewilderment (or maybe not, because a part of him expected this), a shirtless Jake sits up, forehead wrinkled due to being roused from his sleep.

"What the fuck," Sunghoon breathes,

"Oh, it's just you," Jake croaks out before flopping back onto the cushions, nuzzling against Jay's chest.

Sunghoon's nostrils flare, head jerking back so far that his nonexistent double chin makes an appearance. "Ew, you can't do that. It's not Pride Month yet."

Jake rises just to look for something to throw at Sunghoon. The first thing he grabs, much to Sunghoon's horror, is a roll of tissue that looks like it's been through hell and back. The youngest of their trio dodges the projectile with ease, a mix of disgusted and menacing laughter leaving his lips as he closes the door behind him.

The loud thud makes Jay finally stir. "What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jake whispers, pulling the covers back over them, brushing his fingers through Jay's hair. "Go back to sleep,"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Fate Plus tour US leg kicks off just four days after Jay's birthday, and Jake wonders if they're going to do Fate Ultra Pro Max Encore Tour years down the road. But, the fun thing is Jay takes him around his hometown, showing him all the good food spots and recalling his childhood there. Jake smiles and listens wholeheartedly, sharing his nostalgia, unbearable fondness swirling in his gut like the milk in the coffee Jay bought for him. He hopes they go to Australia in the future too, so he can take Jay on a nice date along the port while snacking on his favorite ice cream flavor.

They come back to Korea in May, and aside from dropping off his luggage in his room, Jake makes a beeline to Jay's room, finding sleeping more pleasurable in Jay's matching covers with his arm as a pillow despite needing to squeeze in together on the double sized bed.

"Oh you're here!" Jungwon says teasingly once. "I thought it was just me and Sunoo hyung on this floor,"

"I'm going to turn your room into my walk-in closet soon!" Sunoo announces from the living room, waving a popsicle stick in the air, eyes glued on the messy dating show he's watching.

Jake chuckles, face folding into a guilty smile as he sidesteps them to grab a change of clothes, ignoring their clicking tongues when he steps back out immediately to go back to the 2nd floor.

Dance practice drags on longer, ending at three in the morning on a daily basis with the comeback quickly approaching. A loud groan that sounds more middle aged than anything rips from Jay's throat as he stretches his shoulder, rotating it and hoping the strain goes away. Everyone has washed up and retired to their respective rooms for the night, or early morning, rather. Everyone but Jake, because he's seated on Jay's bed, wearing Jay's shirt, drying his hair with Jay's blow dryer.

"Come here," He says, the machine's whirring coming to a stop as it's set aside. Jake pats the edge of the bed, grabbing a few pieces of pain relief patches from Jay's drawer that Jake had recently replenished. Obediently, the older boy sits, pulling his shirt up.

"Here?" Jake asks.

"To the left,"

"Here?"

"Your other left."

"This is my other left," Jake grumbles, but massages the muscle gently anyway. Almost immediately, Jay melts, feeling the strain ease away from his tired muscles. After a few more kneadings, Jake places a patch on the sore spot, and he turns around and Jay does it for him too.

"How's your knee?" he asks after Jay turns the lights off, his black cat lamp filling the walls with warmth.

"It's fine so far, but it hurts after practice," He admits, jumping into the covers Jake had held open for him.

"Does it hurt right now?"

He presses his lips in thought, hand habitually rubbing his kneecap. "A little,"

At this, Jake reaches over him to grab a pack of herbal relief patches from the bedside table, sent over by his mother. A soft and loving smile graces Jay's lips as he watches Jake apply it on his knee carefully, brushing the strands of stray hair behind the younger boy's ear. What are the odds of meeting Jake? He wonders to himself.

What are the chances of being able to debut with someone he gets along with so well? Among millions of people, thousands of dreamers, and hundreds of trainees, they made it.

And now they're in Jay's room, Jake's benign fingers chasing away the pain in Jay's joints. What are the probabilities of falling in love with him, and being equally loved in the process?

Jay sets these thoughts aside. Nevermind the odds, the evens, the possibilities, the chances. Math has always been Jake's thing anyway. What matters is the here and the now. And right now, Jake is nuzzling against him, eliminating every inch of distance between them.

"Should I buy a bigger bed?" Jay thinks. That way Jake can stretch and spread as much as he would want without being pressed between Jay and the wall. But he's met with a strong objection.

"No!" Jake complains, peeking from under the covers with his brows knitted. "I like snuggling against you,"

This catches him off guard, but then he chuckles a moment later. He can never get quite used to how vocal Jake is, so proud and expressive with his love. He doesn't think he has the courage to admit certain things out loud. But it seems, to Jake, there is no loss in being made a fool for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

One more thing that changed after Jay's birthday, is the frequency of their ramyeon consumption.

Jake didn't think much of it the first time, then thought of it as a coincidence the second time. On the third time, he finally asks. They're in Japan this time, and Jay dragged Jake out of his hotel room in the dead of the night to bring him to a small hole-in-the-wall ramen shop run by an old couple.

Though Jake is always down for some good food, at this point, he wonders. "What's with all the noodles?"

A loud slurping noise answers him, and Jay puts down the sturdy bowl with a content groan before turning to him. "I saw the Christmas video,"

His brows rise in question.

"The one where you read my letter from Christmas 2020. You looked sad we weren't eating ramyeon every night, because we aren't roommates anymore,"

"Ah, that one," Jake flushes. He never thought Jay would see that video.

"So I'm bringing our ramyeon nights back,"

This brings a smile to Jake's lips, warmth settling in the pits of his stomach, and the steaming broth isn't to blame.

Sometimes, Jake still can't believe they are where they are, walking back to their hotel hand in hand as he fails to grasp just what led to this. So he'd ask. When did you realize? What changed? How did you feel? Jay would take a deep breath in as he mulls over these questions in serious thought, and finds himself unable to answer. There wasn't one defining moment, no love at first sight, it was a steady accumulation of him learning to speak and read Jake's language and finding that of all languages he's learned, it's his favorite.

Unable to string his thoughts coherently, Jay thinks of a better idea to make him understand.

As it turns out, what Jake had read wasn't the 3rd letter, but the 12th, written by Jay during his sleepless nights struggling with the dilemma of falling head over heels for his ex-roommate, in hopes that writing it down might make him feel less insane. Too much of his overwhelming feelings amassing in his body that it leaked out in ink on paper.

Whenever they're back home, Jay would visit the post office to send mail, which is odd because his recipient lives in the same building. Still, that doesn't stop him from sending letters to the 1st floor.

And each time, Jake is eager to open it, eyes landing on the penmanship he knows all too well.

Each time, he tucks the envelope inside a box with the rest of his valuables.