“Yonggukkie, what’re you doing?”

The leader glanced away from his task long enough to throw a dark look at Himchan. With a pointed glare, he sprayed the counter with Lysol and rubbed it down vigorously. “What does it look like I’m doing? Cleaning off every surface of our dorm because four of my band mates are hell-bent on defiling everything? Because that’s EXACTLY how I wanted to spend my time after an early morning filled with training.”

Himchan snorted. “Nobody’s done it on the count--”

“I can’t believe you got rice there,” Youngjae laughed as he and, a blushing but satisfied looking, Daehyun exited the bathroom, both fresh from the shower. “That’s why I told you to move the groceries first.”

“But it was more fun with food!”

“Are you saying you haven’t been enjoying all the times up until now? I have scratches down my back that would prove otherwise.” Youngjae smirked.

Daehyun grinned wickedly, playfully shoving Youngjae away as they stumbled into the kitchen. Yongguk growled and snapped off his gloves.

Why did everyone insist on rubbing their happiness in his face?

That thought only made him think of Junhong and what he could rub in Yongguk’s face. All. Day. Long.

“The next time someone has anywhere in this dorm outside of their room, and I do mean anywhere, I will extend dance practice to nine hours a day for one week.” Three of them scowled, but Jongup perked up instantly, only to have his happiness crushed by the angry leader. “Except for you. You will only be allowed to dance for one hour every day for a week. Got it?”

Furious at himself for thinking of the maknae inappropriately again, Yongguk’s reprimand came out harsher than he’d meant it to, but it needed to be said. Maybe they’d even take him more seriously now.  

“You guys act like -lunatics. You’re literally going at it like bunnies, and I know, I know, the company sort of pushed the whole matoki thing on us for awhile, but we’re not actually rabbits. Everyone is aware of that, yes?”

Glancing around at the stunned faces of his band mates, Yongguk was proud. He felt like he’d finally made a point, like he was finally being treated like a real lead—

Daehyun buried his face in his arm, but the loud snort that escaped his mouth had already set off the other three’s laughter. In a matter of seconds, Daehyun, Youngjae, Himchan and Jongup were giggling uncontrollably. The second eldest even went so far as to do an exaggerated and very bad imitation of Yongguk which did not lessen the leader’s anger at all.

“Yah! Is this a joke? Do any of you even think about the maknae at all? You’re awful hyungs!” Yongguk shouted, slapping his gloves down on the table with more force than necessary. They jumped, quickly falling silent. It was the first time Yongguk had ever been so mad and everyone was surprised; however, Yongguk was much angrier at himself than he was at them. Really, every word that he spoke was what he felt about his own longing for the youngest member of the band.

“He’s just a kid and it’s our job to protect him, to keep him safe and happy. Instead, he can’t sleep at night because of you two not only taking over his bedroom, but also being so obnoxious and loud that it keeps him up at night. And you,” he turned an accusing finger to Youngjae and Daehyun. “You two keep screwing all over the place where anyone can walk in at any time. How is he supposed to stay an innocent kid when we’re living like this?”

The sound of a spoon clattering to the floor drew Yongguk’s attention away from the four abashed boys and to the doorway of the kitchen. With his chest heaving from annoyance and his impassioned speech, the leader stared wide-eyed at the object of his affection.

Junhong was scowling.

For a second, the look was so disconcerting, so out of place on the maknae’s face, that Yongguk failed to notice anything else. When he did, his heart sank even further into the grave he was slowly but surely digging himself.

Zelo was shirtless. The pale skin of his hairless chest glistened with sweat. His dark s were pebbled from the cool air of the ceiling fan blowing across him. Tight jeans, tighter than Junhong usually wore when they were home, hung low on his hips, exposing the elegant dips of his hip bones, and making the bulge at the front of his pants very distinct.

From the expanse of his broad shoulders to the planes of his defined chest and flat abdomen, Junhong was quite literally mouth watering. Honestly, everything about him was.

The maknae met Yongguk’s gaze, and the boy’s stare turned from upset to calculating, and then to something unreadable. Without breaking eye contact, Junhong reached up with one hand and pushed his damp hair out of his face, pulling his lower lip between his white teeth and slowly releasing it.

The whole room seemed to tilt a bit, falling off its axis as Yongguk watched. He couldn’t look away, though he knew he should. That he needed to stop if only to save himself the pain.

Junhong finally glanced away, turning his interest instead to the spoon that he’d dropped on the floor.  He smirked and turned, his facing Yongguk as he leisurely bent forward and picked up the utensil.

If anything, Junhong’s back was just as mesmerizing as his front. Impossibly long legs clad in the tight, dark fabric of his pants. Strong thighs and calves, the muscles visibly tensing and releasing under the material as he moved. Rounded cheeks that Yongguk knew from experience were firm and oh so squeezable.

He wished that he could go back to the days when he’d been able to hold Junhong’s body during dance practice, but he didn’t know if his wish stemmed from his yearning to touch the maknae, or if it was because he wanted to go back to a time when he didn’t have such dirty thoughts about the boy. A time when everything about their friendship was so much easier because there weren't any of Yongguk's inappropriate feelings involved.

It was too much for the leader to handle. Last night, he’d been too exhausted to fantasize about Junhong sleeping in Himchan’s bed mere feet away, but what was he going to do now? How was ever going to sleep again when the image of Junhong’s half- body was burned so deeply into his thoughts?

Junhong righted himself gracefully and brushed by Yongguk as he took his spoon to the sink. His body radiated heat; his scent left the leader’s hands itching to reach out and bring him closer.

A tiny groan left Yongguk’s lips before he could bottle it up and stash it away when the maknae leaned into his ear and whispered. “I’m not a kid, hyung. The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be.”

Confused beyond measure, Yongguk could only watch with a frown as Junhong sauntered from the room.

After a few minutes of silence, in which Yongguk figured out absolutely nothing other than the fact that he had a raging hard-on and probably would for as long as he continued to know the younger boy, he was startled from his thoughts by Himchan wrapping an arm around his shoulders companionably.

“Stop drooling, Gukkie, or Youngjae is going to have to mop the floor.”

“I-I’m not!”

Himchan smirked and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You are; there’s a puddle and everything. It’s gross.”

Yongguk scowled and wiped the back of his hand against his mouth. Nope, there definitely wasn’t any drool. Stupid Himchan.

“I’m going to stay in Jongup’s room from now on. Right, Angel?” The second eldest asked with a glance toward the dancer. Jongup slid from his seat and joined them, entwining his fingers with Himchan’s with a smile and a nod. Himchan’s look turned scheming and Yongguk knew he wasn’t going to like whatever was going on in that head of his. “The maknae can have my bed. That way you’ll be there all the time to make sure he’s safe like a good hyung.”

Annoyed to have his own words thrown back at him, Yongguk threw Himchan’s arm off of his shoulders and walked away. As he left the kitchen he heard one last thing that puzzled him for hours afterward.

“You’re blind, Yongguk. You can’t even see what’s right in front of you.”

*****