Kyuhyun ignored it at first, figuring that Ryeowook wouldn’t appreciate the comments. However, after nearly fifteen minutes of those noises, he couldn’t help himself. If his stylist was in pain, wasn’t it part of his human duty to inquire why?

Tilting his head back, he peered up at Ryeowook who looked annoyed at his movements. “Why are you grunting every time you shift around?” Kyuhyun asked, point blank. The fingers combing through his hair stilled. Cocking a brow, the idol searched Ryeowook’s face for some indication that he understood the question and planned to answer. When he was met with silence, he sighed. “What could I possibly do with that information? I’m just curious and concerned. You don’t normally struggle with just standing and doing my hair.”

Reluctantly, Ryeowook tugged his fingers loose from Kyuhyun’s hair. “It’s really nothing.” He winced, making his words all the less convincing.

“Really?” Kyuhyun responded flatly. Sitting up straight, he spun around in the chair. His eyes scanned Ryeowook from head to toe quickly and then slowly, and then his eyes lingered and Ryeowook smacked his arm for leering. Huffing a bit, Kyuhyun rubbed the stinging skin. “I was just checking to see if you were injured! No need to overreact.”

“And there was no need for you to stare that much.” Ryeowook glared, neck tinged pink. He turned away, rummaging through his supplies. “How do you want your hair today? It’s a pretty fun stage and we’ve already made your makeup a bit wilder, so maybe we should go with the messy look too?”

“Why are you trying to change the subject?” Kyuhyun leaned an elbow on the arm rest. Ryeowook chanced a look at him, but regretted it. He wanted to curse his own makeup skills. The smoky black liner around Kyuhyun’s dark eyes was doing wonders for his gaze—as gaze that Ryeowook was trying desperately not to meet.

Clearing his throat, the stylist ignored the question in favor of pulling out a bottle of hair gel and spreading the cold liquid between his hands. “Your hair is pretty soft, so this should be enough to hold it—” Ryeowook yelped as two warm hands closed around his wrists and Kyuhyun’s voice brushed against his ear from behind.

“I asked, why are you changing the subject? Why are you in pain?” His low drawl made Ryeowook’s knees buckle.

As quickly as he could, he snapped out of it, wriggling out of Kyuhyun’s grip and whirling around to face him. “Don’t just grab me out of nowhere.” The complaint was poorly received as Ryeowook stifled a small groan.

“We’ve done way more than what I just did,” he pointed out, looking amused. “Don’t you remember what happened in Vegas?”

“That is a story we agreed to never talk about,” Ryeowook retorted, face red. Looking down at his gel covered hands, he quickly reached up and began arranging Kyuhyun’s hair. “Sit down already. This product is going to dry up if I don’t use it now.”

Grudgingly, Kyuhyun sat down. However, he looked undeterred. “You’re being really secretive about this. We’ve been friends for almost two years now—”

“—we’re coworkers. I have a contract to fulfill,” he interrupted swiftly.

“Yeah okay,” the singer rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say. My point is that if you’re overworking yourself, you need to find more time to rest. Although you look young, you’re already in your mid-twenties and should be—!” Kyuhyun cut himself off this time, flinching hard as Ryeowook yanked on a chunk of his hair.

“Sorry about that, sir,” the stylist stated without a hint of apology in his tone. Smoothing the strands out, he continued, “I guess I didn’t get enough gel. Your hair looks fine though, so let’s end the styling session here.”

Ryeowook moved away, wiping his hands with a wet towelette.

“Can you at least tell me where the pain is?” Kyuhyun sighed, watching the other man warily.

“My lower back,” Ryeowook confessed, looking tired. He rubbed said area firmly with the palm of his hand. “It was fine in the beginning,” he admitted, looking embarrassed, “but recently it’s been hurting quite a bit.”

The idol frowned. “What changed?”

Ryeowook paused, giving it some thought. Tossing the used towelette in a trash bin, he said, “Nothing really. We’ve been doing the same things, but maybe he’s been pushing me harder recently…,” he trailed off, looking absentminded. Blinking suddenly, he gasped, shutting his mouth hard and going to pack up his belongings.

The slip wasn’t missed.

Kyuhyun was on his feet, eyes wide and jaw tense. “We? Pushing you harder? What are you talking about?” he demanded.

Zipping the makeup bag swiftly, Ryeowook sidestepped Kyuhyun and ran for the door. “I’ll see you next week! Good luck tonight!”

“RYEOWOOK!”