The smile on Junho’s face slowly disappeared and a more pensive expression crossed his features to match his wandering thoughts. He picked up the chair and set it straight before taking a slow pace around the room.

Chansung. How do I feel about Chansung.

He paused in his steps and sighed, leaning his head back onto his shoulders to stare blankly up at the ceiling.

Why can’t I just be like Khun, he mused to himself. He never has to worry bout whoever he likes, cause it’s almost guarantee whomever he falls for will like him back. And how does he just know? Why can’t I just know? Why can’t I just know that the one I like—

A loud noise pulled him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He blinked and turned in time to see Nichkhun marching in, door flung wide open. Speak of the— Junho cut himself off. Something wasn’t right, and his friend’s gait was nowhere near normal, and his face was contorted in anger. Junho straightened.

“Khun—”

“How could you?!” Junho froze. “I trusted you. I trusted you, and you stab me in the back?!” Nichkhun was yelling, chest heaving and fists balled.

“Wait, what?” Junho sputtered, confused.

“I should have known—”

“Known what?” he interrupted, gaining a spiteful glare from the older boy.

“The way you talked about him. Meeting up with him on your own time. Why you wouldn’t tell me who he was. Why you told me it was complicated,” Nichkhun spat the last word out, his voice a little more controlled than before, less loud but more dangerously low.

“What are you talking about?”

“The guy you like. The guy that brings that pathetic grin to your face.”

Junho blinked. “What?” What? Why would he be so upset about Chan—

“Wooyoung! That’s who I’m talking about!” Nichkhun had lost his temper again, his fair skinned face flushed a color to match. The taller male absently took a step as he yelled, brow creased and eyes blazing.

“What?!” Junho couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed at the accusation.

“You knew I liked him, but you still went behind my back…”

He probably doesn’t even know he’s tearing up, Junho realized. “What are you—”

“I saw you!” Nichkhun cut him off in rage. “You kissed him,” he hissed out, seething.

“Khun, I—”

“Don’t Khun me,” Nichkhun snapped, cutting Junho off once again. “We’ve been friends for so long,” Nichkhun spoke softly. “But you’re really no different from them.”

Junho, who was about to argue, stopped in his tracks and slowly felt his own anger build at the retort.

“You’re just like them. Those—Nichkhun described them in words Junho could only recognize were in Thai, and most likely offensive—people. Befriending me for your own selfish reasons. Taking advantage of me, my looks, cause you don’t got your own,” he snarled in disgust.

Junho’s patience had just about run out. “Excuse me? Did you just compare me to your past friends? Hate to break it to you Nichkhun, I think I can survive without your help, thanks,” he replied harshly, taking a step. “And about your buddies. I don’t think it’s their fault that you were so naïve,” he couldn’t help but add mockingly, “What, did you wanna make friends that badly? Or were you actually that stupid—”

Nichkhun’s hand flashed, and Junho’s face snapped to the side from the impact of the Thai’s fist. Junho side stepped to avoid losing his balance from the blow and came to a stop, his head still facing away from the older boy. His knuckles were going white from how tight he was clenching his own fists, and his jaw ached from the punch; he was pretty sure he tasted blood.

Junho took in slow breaths to keep his anger at bay. Khun’s the one who’s confused. It’s not really his fault, he convinced himself, trying to stay composed. Maybe I went too far...

He took a deep shuddering breath. Junho knew he tended to have a short temper, but he was forcing himself to stay calm. He didn’t want to do something he knew he was going to regret in the future, even if it would bring him great pleasure right now. In any other situation, this would have turned into a fist fight.

Feelings under control, Junho finally turned back to Nichkhun, meeting his eyes squarely. He had the impression Nichkhun thought the same as he did, and he didn’t miss the flicker of surprise in the older boy’s strained face when the younger didn’t physically retaliate.

Without a word, Nichkhun spun around and walked out, leaving Junho standing there by himself. Junho waited until enough time had passed for Nichkhun to leave the building, before letting his anger out in a strangled yell. He was able to stop himself from kicking a chair nearby, although it was really tempting. He blinked back tears that had invaded his eyes, and leaned back to prevent them from falling. Only when he was sure they had melted back into his eyes did he start massaging his jaw to dull the pain.

Khun, you idiot, Junho couldn’t help but think. You put too much incorrect thinking into this. I didn’t say it was complicated cause of Wooyoung… And I didn’t drop by Wooyoung’s work to see Wooyoung… He sighed. .

Junho intertwined his fingers behind his neck, dropping his head back as his elbows jutting out in front of him. Closing his eyes, he let out a stream of curses flow from his mouth without any restraint.

“Junho?” a voice interrupted.

Junho stopped mid-vulgar-sentence and turned around in surprise. Chansung stood quietly in the doorway, a worry written all over his face.

“How’d you get in?” Junho asked a little too sharply.

Chansung ignored Junho’s bitter tone and replied casually with a small shrug, “The door was open. You okay?”

Junho released his hands from behind his neck and jammed them into his pockets. “I’m fine,” he lied, not bothering to attempt a smile to match.

Chansung’s expression didn’t change. “So you normally curse the world, universe and back?” Junho didn’t answer, his gaze dropping and choosing to look at the floor instead. “I saw Khun,” Chansung spoke up, “leaving the building. I was on my bike, so I saw him from a distance. Umm… he looked upset…” Chansung trailed off, seeming to hope for Junho to interrupt and fill in the details, but when Junho didn’t answer, he continued, “Did you guys—”

“Break up? We were never going out to being with,” Junho snapped, and then bit his lip, immediately regretting his words. He glanced over, but a soft smile played on the other’s lips instead.

“I know, Wooyoung sent me a text,” he replied in a tone that implied he was trying to lighten the situation.

“Oh.” Junho shifted his gaze again.

He was embarrassed. Embarrassed about his outburst towards Chansung. Embarrassed about what he had said to Nichkhun. He was embarrassed that he had lost his temper and spouted nonsense he didn’t mean to say.

Although Nichkhun had taken all the facts and put them together wrong, coming to an equally wrong conclusion, Junho should have explained things. He should have set things straight, yet he let his friend’s angry words get to him, and he had said things he now regretted.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Junho looked over, their gazes finally meeting. Chansung’s smile had disappeared, replaced by an expression of genuine concern.

Junho looked into the other boy’s soft brown eyes. A part of him wanted to spill everything. To share all his feelings with the boy who stood in front of him, to ease his mind of the turmoil. He wanted to speak his mind, to rant, to talk to someone he felt safe with, comfortable with. He wanted to tell Chansung all his problems, he wanted Chansung to listen and comfort him.

But part of him rebelled. Part of him told him to think it through. He wasn’t sure if he should be sharing thoughts between him and Nichkhun with another person. This was something between him and his friend. His best friend. And knowing his best friend, he’d best sort through this matter fast. Junho knew he had opened old wounds, and he’d better find Nichkhun before he accidentally created new ones.

“I can’t,” Junho replied quietly. “But I’ll be okay.” Chansung raised his eyebrows. “Really. I just need to sort some things out.” This time Junho attempted a smile, but try as he might, he knew it failed to reach his eyes.

The look on Chansung’s face told Junho the boy wasn’t buying, but Chansung didn’t push the topic any further. Instead, he scratched the back of his head and looked at his feet, as if he was embarrassed about something.

“Well, if it helps any, Wooyoung usually goes to the store at 8 to fix up his schedule, or something like that.” Chansung stole a glance at his watch before continuing, “Which is in about two hours. And it’s not really work, so he’ll be free if someone decides to drop by,” Chansung paused, eyes flickering with mirth. “Or needs cheering up, or something of the like.”

The corner of Junho’s lips quirked up, catching the hint. If he wanted to use this info to his advantage, he would have to confront Nichkhun soon. Chansung was forcing him to. Junho smirked. Who was he kidding? He would have had to sooner or later. Sooner, if he wanted to save some kind of relationship with Nichkhun, his, and theirs.

“Junho.”

Junho looked up to meet Chansung’s eyes. His expression was calmer, which brought a smile back to the taller boy’s face.

“You can call me, if you ever wanna talk about it,” He caught the stubbornness in Junho’s eyes, before adding, “or not talk about it. You can just call, just cause.”

This time Junho’s smile reached his eyes with ease and Chansung left the smiling boy, departing with a matching grin on his face.