Jongwoon does not know for how long he remains on the balcony after Sungmin leaves. His hands, hanging over the side of the railing, are trembling slightly and he leans against the parapet for support, feeling like his knees will give out if he lets go. His eyes are firmly locked on the Seoul skyline, seemingly gazing at the heavy clouds that have been gathering from earlier that night unbeknownst to him, but he cannot see a thing. He cannot hear a thing. He feels numb and empty, inside and out, and all that comes back to him is an echo of Sungmin’s solemn voice,
 
‘But what point and meaning is there to having the whole world when you can’t have the one you want?’
 
One sentence and it contains so much more than he can handle. Deep and heavy with profound implications, it bears more significance than Jongwoon ever wants to comprehend and it weighs down on him more ominously than the massing rainclouds. The atmosphere suddenly feels clogged up and he has to force the humid air into his lungs, feeling his hands shake even more as the wind builds up around the tall buildings. A low rumble of thunder reaches his ears.
 
He no longer knows what to think. He wants to brush it aside; fool himself into believing that the words were just that: words. But he cannot and they are not.
 
I ... I just don’t know anymore.
 
The storm unleashes itself upon Seoul with a fiery zeal that takes the pedestrians below with surprise. Jagged lines of lightening illuminate the turbulent skies and the heavens weep, showering heavy drops of icy rain upon them which are tossed about by the gales of wind that blow over the city. Jongwoon shivers, but it has less to do with the chill soaking through into his very bones and more with the turmoil in his mind, which seems far more vehement and violent than the storm raging around him.
 
Hours pass, or maybe just mere seconds, he does not know. All feeling and awareness have left him until, at last, a pair of hands grabs his arm, accompanied by the sound of someone shouting in his ear and, before he realises it, he has been dragged back into shelter and warmth.
 
‘What do you think you were doing, standing out in the rain like that!’
 
Jongwoon blinks, eyes focussing on two people standing in front of him. ‘... Ryeowook? Hyukjae?’
 
‘Now he hears us,’ the latter mutters with a barely concealed roll of the eye as he lets go of Jongwoon’s arm and quickly closes the door leading out to the balcony. Beside him, Ryeowook is staring, eyes filled with concern.
 
‘Hyung...? Are you OK?’
 
‘You look like a drowned rat,’ Hyukjae adds bluntly.
 
Jongwoon lets out a shaky breath and looks down at his feet. He is dripping water all over the wooden floorboards. Vaguely, he registers that he should probably mop that up before someone slips and breaks their neck.
 
‘Yah, hyung.’ Seeing his silence and perturbed face, Hyukjae’s expression melts into one of trepidation. He places a hand on his shoulder. ‘What’s wrong? Why were you out there all this time?’
 
Silence.
 
‘Did ... did Sungmin hyung ... come to talk with you?’
 
The shock burns through Jongwoon like electricity sizzling along his veins and he jerks up to gape at Ryeowook. ‘Wha - what ... how did you –!’
 
Before he can properly get his jumbled thoughts together, let alone his tongue around the words, the door to the apartment is flung open and Jungsu comes striding in, followed by an irritated-looking Heechul.
 
‘Has Kyuhyun come back yet?’ demands the leader without preamble.
 
‘No idea. Wookie and I got back just now. Hyung?’ Hyukjae looks questioningly at Jongwoon.
 
‘I ... I don’t know,’ he mutters, feeling disoriented. It is just too much; there are too many things mixed up in his head – Kyuhyun, Sungmin and now even Ryeowook – and he cannot make head or tail of anything. ‘I – I didn’t hear him come in, I think.’
 
‘That ain’t saying much, hyung; you didn’t hear us screaming at you, either,’ Hyukjae points out rather sarcastically, while Ryeowook runs to look in the bedrooms.
 
‘He’s not here yet,’ he announces, walking back into the living room. ‘Sungmin hyung’s back, though; sleeping.’
 
Jungsu’s face falls and Jongwoon recognises the familiar look of a distressed umma.
 
‘Kyuhyun’s manager just called,’ he says, beginning to pace up and down rapidly, audibly trying to keep his voice in control. ‘They finished his recording session two hours ago and Kyuhyun wanted to meet up with some friend and told the manager he’d come back on his own and now the manager hyung can’t contact Kyuhyun – they can’t get a signal in this storm and he doesn’t know where he is –’
 
‘Jungsu – Jungsu,’ snaps Heechul, grabbing the frantic man by the shoulders and giving him a shake. ‘Calm down, will you. It’s barely midnight. It’s too early to panic.’
 
‘Barely midnight? He’s supposed to have finished his schedules by ten tonight!’
 
‘He said he’s meeting up with someone.’ Heechul points out, rolling his eyes.
 
‘But there’s a storm and we can’t call him and we don’t know where he is –’
 
‘He’s a big boy, Jungsu. He ain’t incapable of taking care of himself.’
 
‘But –’ Jungsu begins, looking both angry and helpless, when Hyukjae suddenly supplies meekly,
 
‘I think ... Heechul hyung is right. I mean,’ he hastens to add when all eyes turn to him, ‘if he’s hanging out with a friend, he’d obviously stay out till much later, don’t you think? And if they got caught in this rain, they’d just take shelter and wait it out...’
 
‘Ah, see! Even the anchovy has better sense than you,’ Heechul tells Jungsu with a grin and cuffs Hyukjae roughly albeit playfully around the head. His dongsaeng rubs at the point of abuse with an, ‘Ow’, but his lips pull up in a small, shy grin.
 
Jungsu wrings his hands a little before breathing in deeply and finally nodding, accepting their logic with obvious reluctance. Heechul claps him on the shoulder and begins to lead him outside again.
 
‘Honestly, you’re like an ahjumma, worrying your head off. How do you expect to be even half as beautiful as me with all those worry lines?’
 
‘But Kyuhyun –’
 
‘Will turn up,’ Heechul finishes for him firmly. He looks back over his shoulder and barks, ‘Oi! The moment that brat drags his sorry back in here, y’all are giving us a call, a’right? So that umma can get her outta that knot and I can actually get some sleep without him whining in my ear.’
 
‘Hyung,’ ventures Ryeowook nervously. ‘What if Kyuhyun ... is in trouble?’
 
The two eldest men freeze. Slowly, Jungsu turns, his blank face belying the anxiety in his eyes. ‘If Kyuhyun doesn’t come back in an hour, call us.’
 
‘So that we can set a freakin’ search party of carnivorous Alsatians after that silly idiot,’ growls Heechul and snaps the door shut behind them.
 
There is a pause and then Ryeowook exhales slowly. ‘Wow ... they’re worried. Even Heechul hyung.’
 
‘He really might be just partying with an old friend ...’ Hyukjae murmurs, though there is a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
 
‘Yeah, but in this weather ... of course it’s worrying if they can’t reach him. Maybe we should try calling him, too...’
 
They stay like that for a few more minutes, the two of them murmuring together and coming to the conclusion that all of them will set their alarm and check for Kyuhyun within an hour and that, as Jongwoon is sharing a room with him, it will be up to him to alert Jungsu if – when, Hyukjae insists with harsh desperation – the maknae comes back. Jongwoon lets them make the decisions on their own; he has not said a single word after having answered Jungsu’s question earlier and, when his dongsaengs finally retire to their bedrooms after bidding him goodnight and advising him to change out of his wet clothes at once, he cannot find the voice to answer and silently walks off.
 
His room is dark, silent and feels strangely empty – almost hollow – when he enters it. He dries himself and changes into his pyjamas methodically, with slow, precise movements. He concentrates on the softness of the towel as he wipes it through his hair, the familiarity of his night clothes as he pulls them on, and the warmth of his sheets as he burrows himself under them. He lays on his back, staring blankly at the rivulets of water running down the closed window and listening to the amplified sound of his own heartbeat that somehow manages to reach his eyes even through the orchestra of the storm.
 
But a person can lock out his thoughts, his heart, for only so long and before he knows it, everything has come back flooding to the front of his mind, overwhelming him again.
 
Kyuhyun.
 
Is he out in the rain? Has something happened? Why hasn’t he come back yet?
 
Jongwoon groans inwardly, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
 
All these long months, he has successfully avoided thinking too deeply into the matter of their maknae, though it has always been on his mind; a permanent thorn in his side. His feelings have been clear to him the whole time: Kyuhyun is the threat, the danger, the rival. He is in possession of all the looks, talents and gifts desirable in an ideal idol, whereas the only thing Jongwoon has going for him is his voice, and even that, he fears, pales in comparison to the set of pipes Kyuhyun has been blessed with. Whenever he hears his dongsaeng belt out that beautiful voice, he finds himself doubting his own worth as the lead vocalist of Super Junior, as the possessor of the art-like voice, as Yesung.
 
Kyuhyun’s presence puts everything in jeopardy, for how is Jongwoon supposed to advance as far in his career as he dreams of, if he is forever to be stuck in Cho Kyuhyun’s shadow?
 
His initial reaction to Kyuhyun was primitive, merely instinct. He had wanted to separate himself from the other as much as possible, perhaps in a pathetic parody of being in his own limelight and not Kyuhyun’s, or just an infantile hope that if he pretended for long enough that the maknae was not there, he’d go away. Or something. He is not sure anymore. He had only known that there was not a fibre of his being that welcomed the boy – either as a dongsaeng or as a colleague – and he had followed through with that feeling, cutting off any possible interactions between them. Nothing has deterred him, not even Kyuhyun’s persistent approaches.
 
Jongwoon closes his eyes, mouth twisting in a grimace. He has occasionally wondered why Kyuhyun is so adamant on pursuing him despite the coldness he has always expressed towards the younger, but he has never tried to analyse Kyuhyun’s reasons before. He has never really wanted to find out.  
 
You’re afraid to find out.
 
Then he had had that one conversation with Sungmin and now, the thoughts refuse to leave him alone. Jongwoon runs a hand through his hair, his mind running over the sharp dialogue that had ensued between them.
 
‘It’s cruel, you know.’
 
Cruel. It is a heavy word, not to be used lightly and with much at stake. Has he really been cruel to Kyuhyun? Truly cruel?
 
His defences begin to build up, automatically fighting against the accusation. He has never, not once – not even during his most frustrated moments when he was struck by just how inadequate he is next to Kyuhyun – touched him physically with the intention of causing harm. Nor has he ever raised his voice at the maknae; he has never shouted at him, insulted him or verbally put him down in any way. He has avoided Kyuhyun altogether...
 
But that, Sungmin had said, is the point. Jongwoon’s avoidance, his aloofness and coldness, his complete and utter disregard for the maknae – that is the cruelty, he had said.
 
Why is it a problem now? Jongwoon mentally screams at the ceiling. It has always been that way, hasn’t it, from the very beginning. He did not break the ice with Kyuhyun on the boy’s first day at the dorms and nothing about his behaviour towards the maknae has changed. It has only become something of notice, an actual issue, after Kyuhyun started approaching him.
 
And that is leading him right back to the question he has avoided trying to answer.
 
What do you want, Kyuhyun? What is your motive?
 
‘He wants your attention, Jongwoon hyung. He wants your affection. He wants to know that you care...’
 
Who is Sungmin to know anything of this, he wonders with a momentary scowl, but he cannot keep up the facade any longer and all the little things Kyuhyun keeps doing almost every day come rushing back to him. Kyuhyun’s greetings that never receive a reply, the insistent stares that are never met, the strained conversation starters that never go anywhere, the daring but gentle touches that are never returned, the physical closeness that is never welcomed – every single thing Kyuhyun does around him is coated and dripping with a plea for attention. Jongwoon’s attention.
 
It has always been so obvious; as clear as day. Jongwoon had simply refused to notice it. He had tried so hard that ignoring it became easy.
 
Because to acknowledge it means to accept it; and accepting it means making it something real, something they shared. Jongwoon had not wanted anything to exist between him and Kyuhyun.
 
And then Sungmin had waltzed right in and driven everything he had been pretending not to notice straight home.
 
Why, though? All that attention for what? To win his affection? Wasn’t that what Sungmin had said? That Kyuhyun wants his affection?
 
He recalls the way he often catches (and then ignores) Kyuhyun looking at him, with nervousness in his dark eyes that poorly veil a perpetual spark of hope, a longing, a desire for something that Jongwoon has never been able to put his finger on. There is always something in his gaze that makes Jongwoon uncomfortable and edgy, makes him want to run away.
 
This train of thought suddenly leads him to remembering, with startling clarity, the expression he spied on Kyuhyun’s face on their first night of sharing a room together. When they had returned to the dorms with more than half the members drunk, and he and Siwon began to give everyone they could get their hands on a goodnight kiss ... when Jongwoon had kissed everyone but the maknae ... when Kyuhyun had seen him kissing Hyukjae in front of him, seeing Jongwoon being so genuinely affectionate with another...
 
Yearning. That was what he had seen on Kyuhyun’s face at that moment. Yearning and hurt.
 
The bed sheets suddenly feel suffocative, as if they are strangling him and Jongwoon sits up abruptly, releasing a shaky breath. He casts his eyes around the room, listening to the sound of pelting rain. His gaze lands on the luminous hands of Kyuhyun’s alarm clock on one of the cupboards. Half past twelve. Half an hour more before Jungsu and Heechul supposedly release their promised search party to look for Kyuhyun and he is still not back.
 
Where is that boy? Jongwoon feels something in the pit of his stomach, like a tightening rope around his gut. He has been feeling it from the moment Jungsu had brought Kyuhyun’s absence to their attention.
 
Jongwoon swallows thickly. He does not want to know what that might mean.
 
He glances out of the window and is somewhat alarmed to see that the storm has worsened. The windows are rattling slightly and he realises that he can actually hear the yowling of the wind through them. Kyuhyun is still out there.
 
It happens automatically, almost without his volition. He swings his legs off the bed and, the next moment, he is lunging for his phone, in the hopes that maybe he can get lucky, that he can get a signal through to the missing boy. But before he can so much as flip it open, the bedroom door suddenly creaks and the subject of his chaotic thoughts, the very ban of his current existence, stumbles inside, breathing harshly and soaked to the bone.
 
‘Kyuhyun ...?’
 

Jongwoon finally realises what Hyukjae meant earlier by remarking that he looked “like a drowned rat”. Though he thinks that the phrase needs some minor modifications to do justice to Kyuhyun’s appearance, such as a rat that fell in a river, got pulled along the rapids, plunged off the top of a waterfall and finally ended up in the most ferocious regions of the ocean before it repeated the cycle a couple more times. Kyuhyun seems to have dragged in the entire Han River as he entered their shared bedroom; such is the trail of water he has left behind him.
 
‘Hyung?’ he whispers when his gaze lands on Jongwoon standing beside the bed, but the honorific comes out more like a, ‘H-h-huh-hyu-u-ng’ for his teeth is chattering and his breathing is nothing short of shallow, wheezy gasps that sound breathless and painful even to the other man. His face is deathly white and the dark eyes are more prominent than ever against the terrible paleness of his skin.
 
‘H-h-yung,’ Kyuhyun gasps again and collapses to his knees, his arms wrapping themselves around his shaking, sopping body in a vain attempt to contain some heat. His breathing has become even more ragged, if that is possible.
 
Jongwoon does not remember moving towards his dongsaeng, but next moment, he finds himself kneeling in front of him, taking his freezing face in his hands to unconsciously rub some warmth into the pale cheeks and talking – almost harshly – at the same time,
 
‘Where the hell were you?! Jungsu was freaking out –!’
 
‘M-meeting a ... ahh ... f-f-friend.’ Kyuhyun closes his eyes, looking to be almost in pain. He leans into the warmth of Jongwoon’s palms automatically, which the other fails to notice as he continues, almost agitatedly,
 
‘– disappearing in this freak storm to God knows where! Jungsu was nearly ting bricks and you had everyone else worried witless and the damn phone signals had gone haywire and you couldn’t jump a freakin’ taxi to get back here when this bloody storm started –!’
 
‘Co – couldn’t ... f-f-flag one d-down –’
 
‘– and not even telling your goddamn manager where the hell you were off to and then showing up hours later like some effin’ drowned rat –!’
 
‘H-hyung!’ Kyuhyun almost moans with a pained grimace, cutting across Jongwoon’s tirade. The maknae pushes forward until his face is buried in Jongwoon’s shoulder, with his upper torso leaning almost forcefully into the other’s warm chest.
 
‘S-so cold...’
 
The sudden fire seeps out of Jongwoon as he properly feels, for the first time, the severity of Kyuhyun’s shivering. His entire body is wrecked with tremors and his fingers, which had wrapped themselves around Jongwoon’s forearms at one point, are so chilled that he can feel the cold through the fabric of his pyjamas.
 
Now is clearly not the time for a lecture (especially one that Jongwoon has no idea where it came from).
 
‘Undress,’ he says at last, in a lower voice than earlier and staggers to his feet, grasping the boy by his hips and pulling him up with him. Kyuhyun automatically moves closer to him, leaning into his warmth, but Jongwoon takes hold of his shoulders and pushes him out of the room and towards the bathroom. ‘Get out of those wet clothes before you die of pneumonia. I’ll bring you your dry things.’
 
Kyuhyun is still shivering uncontrollably and his breathing has not improved, but he accepts the towel Jongwoon tosses at him and stumbles obediently towards the shower. Jongwoon digs up the maknae’s pyjamas from among the blankets and quilts Kyuhyun sleeps on – and which he hardly folds up in the mornings; a matter that really annoys the meticulous Jongwoon – and hands them to the boy through the toilet door.
 
‘Take a warm shower if there’s any hot water left,’ he adds authoritatively and Kyuhyun nods at him through the crack in the door.
 
He spends the next five minutes searching the kitchen for something to feed to Kyuhyun – preferably soup or maybe even some leftover ramyun that he can heat up; just anything hot – but he finds that Ryeowook has thrown out everything that he probably deemed inedible. There is no time to cook something now. The important thing is to warm up the frozen boy as quickly as possible and Jongwoon resigns himself to simply making a large mug of hot chocolate.
 
Back in their room, he gathers up Kyuhyun’s quilts and rips the thick comforter off his bed. He has just begun hunting in his closet for more blankets when the door opens and Kyuhyun steps inside, dressed in his pyjamas and relatively dry. Jongwoon looks up just in time to see the younger boy thoughtfully burying his nose in the towel; his eyes slide shut.
 
Jongwoon feels a sharp jerk in the pit of his stomach and his eyes widen with sudden recognition. Without realising it, he had given the boy his own towel.
 
The sight of Kyuhyun inhaling his scent makes his throat go dry.
 
Kyuhyun looks up only for their eyes to meet and he promptly blushes all the way down to his neck. Jongwoon clears his throat uncomfortably and straightens up, pointing silently at the mug of hot chocolate he had placed on one of the cupboards. Taking the hint, Kyuhyun accepts the drink with a mumbled ‘Thanks’ and avoids his eyes when Jongwoon awkwardly takes the towel from him to hang it up. Neither of them says another word until Kyuhyun is done, and by then the older boy has noticed that the maknae is still shivering slightly.
 
‘No hot water left?’ he guesses, moving to wrap one of the quilts around Kyuhyun’s trembling shoulders. ‘You’re still freezing,’ he adds quietly when his hand brushes accidentally against the other’s neck.
 
His dongsaeng just nods silently, his cheeks pink. He moves to sit on his usual sleeping place on the floor, but manages to take no more than two steps before Jongwoon unthinkingly grabs him by the upper arms and pushes him, almost unceremoniously, on to the bed, muttering with a frown,
 
‘That’s no good. We still have recording sessions tomorrow and the last thing you need is a cold to ruin your voice. Here.’ Jongwoon throws a few more quilts, including his own comforter, over a stunned Kyuhyun and, leaning one knee onto the mattress, reaches over to tuck them in. ‘Wrap yourself up and get warm. The hot chocolate should have helped, but maybe you need some soup too, just in case –’
 
‘No! Wait –’
 
It takes Jongwoon by surprise when Kyuhyun suddenly latches onto his arm as he moves away, preventing him from getting off the bed.
 
‘Wait ...’ he repeats, more quietly this time. His breathing is shaky, but now it is impossible to say if the cause is the cold or the sudden nervousness that has graced his pale countenance. Swallowing, he looks up, hesitantly meeting Jongwoon’s startled eyes. ‘Hyung, could you ... could you stay?’
 
The timid, but bold request hangs in the air, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. The perpetual tension and awkwardness that have become the trademark atmosphere between the two of them seem to rise up again, rather belated tonight, but oppressive and definitely there. With that comes every reminder of what their tenuous relationship has been like, everything that has happened between them and all the inner battles that have been raging inside Jongwoon’s mind of late, courtesy of the boy who is currently looking him straight in the eyes, steady and earnest.
 
A part of him screams at him to pull away, to leave, to deny Kyuhyun of his simple plea because why should he anyway?But there is another part, the conflicted part – the one he has effectively suppressed from the very beginning until Sungmin reached down and pulled it from his very core – that is hesitating, wavering, almost bending to Kyuhyun.
 
I...
 
‘Y-you’re warm and ... please, hyung...’ The chilled, slender fingers tighten around his forearm.
 
Jongwoon cannot pinpoint what led to his undoing. He does not know what he feels at that moment, either. His limbs simply move, almost of their own volition, sliding his body under the numerous blankets so that he is lying awkwardly beside the maknae, their heads sharing the same pillow. For the first several seconds, Kyuhyun stares at him, little tremors still running along his body and his fathomless eyes glowing with something Jongwoon is afraid to put a name to; but then he slides down on the bed a little, so that his head is now level with the elder’s shoulder.
 
Jongwoon blinks, puzzled, but before the question has even formed in his mind, Kyuhyun shifts to lie directly against him, tugging on his elbow so that he is lying on his side, facing each other. Without pause, Kyuhyun daringly wraps his arm around his waist under the blankets so that their bodies are flush against each other and, ignoring the shocked intake of breath that clearly reaches his ears, he leans up to press his face against the other’s exposed throat, tangling his cold feet with Jongwoon’s warm ones and completely burying himself in his hyung’s body heat. 
 
Every fibre in Jongwoon’s body feel like they have been turned to stone and ice; he has turned absolutely rigid at Kyuhyun’s bold actions and hardly dares to move a muscle, to breathe. He is aware of every curve and contour of the younger boy’s cold body that is pressing against his, every shiver that runs down Kyuhyun’s spine, every breath he exhales that washes over Jongwoon’s throat with a heady warmth and intimacy that thrill and alarm him – but he does not move. He is not even sure if he can.
 
Nothing feels the same anymore. There are so many thoughts tearing at his mind, so many different directions his heart is trying to take, so many unknown and nameless emotions that clash and conflict and he simply does not know anymore. What to do, what to think, what to feel...
 
Should this even be happening?
 
He is not sure how much time passes as they simply stay like that, but eventually his body tires from the stiffness. The whole time he has been holding his free arm tightly at his side, just above the arm Kyuhyun has slung around his waist, and his muscles are crying from the exhaustion and strain. With a deep breath, he allows himself to relax, letting his arm drop around Kyuhyun’s shoulder so that his fingertips rest lightly on his back. Kyuhyun stirs a little at the action, but does not pull away.
 
At length, he hears a quiet, ‘Thanks, hyung, for – for helping me ... And staying.’ Kyuhyun’s face is still buried somewhere in his neck and Jongwoon starts slightly at the unexpected sensation of cool lips ghosting over his sensitive skin as he spoke. He leans his head back slightly, though it does not change much.
 
‘Jungsu won’t forgive you easily ...’ he mutters back lamely, trying to find a way to avoid the awkwardness of their situation. ‘Everyone was worrying over you, even Heebongie.’
 
‘It really wasn’t my fault,’ Kyuhyun replies after a pause. Jongwoon tilts his head further back, discreetly trying to put some distance between his throat and the other’s mouth – because feeling every single word spoken, not to mention the breathing, on one’s skin is really weird and distracting and just wrong – but to no avail. Kyuhyun is completely glued to him, and he does not seem to either care or notice Jongwoon’s uneasiness as he continues softly,
 
‘I was having dinner with an old classmate. I dropped him off at the station and was on my way back when the storm started. I tried to take a taxi, but none would stop and there was no signal on the phone so I couldn’t call anyone. So I waited it out for about an hour at an empty bookstore, but then this bunch of high school girls took shelter there too and one of them recognised me. So I just ran and thought I might as well come back all the way here as it was getting late and there was no sign of the rain letting out. That’s all.’
 
Jongwoon takes a moment to digest this. ‘And it never occurred to you to buy an umbrella from one of the many twenty-four hour convenience stores you must have passed on the way here?’
 
There is a long moment of silence and then he feels Kyuhyun grin against his throat. The sheepishness is evident in his voice as he half-chuckles out, ‘Totally slipped my mind.’
 
The older boy snorts, rolling his eyes. ‘And everyone calls you the smart, witty one. One detour to a store and you wouldn’t be in this sorry position, shivering your off.’
 
Another pause ensues, deeper and longer this time, and then Kyuhyun’s arm suddenly tightens around him, slightly but noticeably. Finally he murmurs, so quietly that Jongwoon almost thinks he is imagining it,
 
‘I don’t mind...’
 
Jongwoon’s mouth seals shut, his eyes widening a little. How is one supposed to reply to something like that?
 
A few minutes go by in complete silence, with Jongwoon temporarily keeping his mind completely blank and Kyuhyun still relaxing against him. The former vaguely notes that the shivers have subsided and Kyuhyun no longer feels cold to the touch. Even his feet feel warm against his own and his breathing has completely evened out.
 
‘Hyung ...’ Kyuhyun speaks up again, but his voice is much lower and lagging now, sleepy. ‘When you said ... everyone was worrying over me...’
 
Jongwoon waits silently for the rest. It takes a while and his voice is even drowsier and more sluggish as he finishes his question, but the impact it has on Jongwoon causes him to cease breathing for a moment.
 
‘... Were you ... worried as well?’
 
What...?
 
‘He wants to know that you care, at least a little...’
 
He places his hand on Kyuhyun’s shoulder and eases his upper body away slightly so as to see the maknae’s face. Colour has returned to his white cheeks and his eyes are peacefully closed as he rests just on the edge of sleep, barely awake. The corners of his lips are pulled up just the slightest and it strikes Jongwoon as harshly as a bolt of lightning that this is the first time he has ever seen Kyuhyun looking almost ... happy in his, Jongwoon’s, presence.
 
And then Kyuhyun is sleepily pulling him back again to bury his face in his chest and the last thing he mumbles before completely falling into his dreams is, ‘Hyung forgot to add sugar to the cocoa...’
 
Jongwoon lies deathly still on the bed, overwhelmed. He is used to Kyuhyun vying for his attention, trying to coax a reaction out of him, hoping to make eye contact – but wanting his affection, wanting him to care ... This much? To the extent where the mere thought of Jongwoon being concerned for his health is enough to make him fall asleep happy and positively glowing?
 
Do I care?
 
All these months, he hasn’t. Right? There is no reason for him to. Right? Because all that Kyuhyun is to him is a threat, a rival; just someone better that can take away his everything. Right?
 
I don’t care ... Right?
 
And the inner conflicts are starting up again, but this time, they are mixed with recollections of his earlier actions. What was it, if not concern, that had driven him to help Kyuhyun when he had collapsed earlier, freezing and soaking wet? What had spurred him to pull out whatever means necessary to aid the boy if he had not cared, going as far as to make him a hot drink, offer his own bed? What had made him answer Kyuhyun’s plea, to stay, to warm him with his own body and hold him till he fell asleep?
 
The bed sheets are feeling suffocative once more.
 
The raging war in his mind is interrupted by the sound of harried footsteps and, without even knocking, the owner of said footsteps pushes open their bedroom door. Startled, Jongwoon looks over his shoulder to see Jungsu coming to a halt right by his bed.
 
‘He’s back?’ He says, with an audible sigh of relief.
 
‘Got back more than half an hour ago,’ replies Jongwoon after glancing at Kyuhyun’s alarm clock, glad for the distraction. But then it sinks in the position he is in and complete and utter embarrassment takes over, especially when Heechul comes in the next moment and – after the initial look of relief in his eyes – an all too familiar smirk twists his lips.
 
‘Well, well ...’ he drawls. Jungsu makes a hushing gesture, but Jongwoon does not miss the spark of amusement in his eyes.
 
‘So where was he?’ he asks and Jongwoon carefully sits up, trying not to jostle the sleeping boy as he untangles himself from him. He mentally heaves a sigh of relief, somewhat glad to have a legit excuse to leave that embrace.
 
‘Let him sleep,’ he says quietly, and understanding what he meant at once, Jungsu nods and leaves with Heechul. Jongwoon trails behind them, pausing to pick up one of Kyuhyun’s discarded blankets from the floor.
 
‘Well?’ Jungsu asks at once as soon as Jongwoon joins them in the living room.
 
Sitting down on the sofa, he quietly begins to explain everything Kyuhyun had related to him earlier, with Jungsu interjecting every once in a while to ask a question. Barely two minutes later, Ryeowook and Hyukjae emerge from their room, both having woken up to check on Kyuhyun as previously planned, and Jongwoon has to start all over again. Afterwards though, looks of relief are exchanged all around and Ryeowook and Hyukjae peek into Jongwoon’s room – as if to reassure themselves that their beloved maknae is back – before retreating back to their rooms. Jungsu is finally looking at peace and not even Heechul’s playful jab of ‘I told you so, you over-worrying pabo’ wipes the wide smile off his face.
 
‘I’m glad,’ he sighs. ‘I wish you’d called us, though.’
 
‘Sorry, hyung, I forgot,’ Jongwoon apologises quickly. ‘Kyuhyun looked like he was about to collapse and kinda needed me –’
 
‘To molest him in bed?’ Heechul supplies with a toothy grin.
 
‘I told you, it was only for body heat, Heebongie!’ Jongwoon exclaims, well aware of the blood flooding his cheeks at the implication. Heechul just snickers at him.
 
‘We know, we know, just ignore him,’ Jungsu says with a laugh. Standing up, he stretches and exhales loudly. ‘I swear, if things like this keeps happening, I’ll end up losing twenty years of my life. I’ll just give Kyuhyun’s manager a call,’ he adds, raising his voice to drown out Heechul’s sarcastic you-could-actually-gain-a-couple-if-you’d-stop-being-such-a-worry-wart, ‘and then I’m crashing. Dammit, I need to be up in less than four hours.’
 
‘We all do,’ Heechul says with a roll of his eyes and turns to leave. ‘I’m off.’
 
‘Night, hyung,’ Jongwoon calls after him, receiving a careless wave in reply. ‘You, too, Jungsu hyung.’
 
‘Mm hmm. And thank you, Jongwoon,’ he adds, suddenly serious. ‘For looking after him. Really.’
 
His dongsaeng drops his gaze, his face losing expression. ‘Um, yeah...’
 
Silently, he picks up the blanket he brought out with him and flaps it open. Arranging the cushions so that he can be most comfortable, he lies down on the sofa and throws the blanket over himself. He looks up to see Jungsu staring.
 
‘You’re ... not going back to your room?’
 
Jongwoon clears his throat uncomfortably. ‘No.’
 
Jungsu pauses. ‘What about that ... um, body heat thing?’
 
‘Kyuhyun’s warmed up now. And he’s got blankets.’
 
‘I thought you two were sharing the bed, anyway.’
 
‘No. That’s only a joke by Sungmin and Hyukjae.’
 
‘So, you’ve been sleeping on the floor all this time?’
 
Jongwoon falls silent, wondering how to answer. It is a hard question. Jungsu, he knows, wants Kyuhyun, as the maknae, to have the bed and is currently under the impression that he does. The leader will throw an accusatory fit if he ever finds out the truth, even though – as far as Jongwoon can justifiy – it is Kyuhyun’s own decision to not take the bloody bed.
 
Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?
 
Sighing, Jongwoon collapses back on the cushions. ‘It’s too cold tonight to sleep on the floor,’ he finally ventures, hoping that will be end of it.
 
It is not the end of it.
 
‘From what I saw, I don’t think it’ll be a problem for you to share the bed tonight.’
 
‘No. I’m fine here.’
 
Jungsu falls silent, biting his lower lip pensively, but Jongwoon knows better than to hope. There is one more blow coming. He can see it in the leader’s eyes.
 
‘You know, it ... it almost looked like ... like he wanted you there with him...’
 
A long minute goes by, filled with nothing but the muffled sound of rain and a faint roll of thunder. The atmosphere in the living has grown heavy.
 
‘Good night, hyung,’ Jongwoon says at last, with finality in his cold tone.
 
Jungsu returns his gaze almost expressionlessly, but there is a certain edge to his sharp eyes.
 
‘I won’t pretend to know the problem between the both of you. But for a moment there, I actually thought you cared for the boy. I’m getting sick of this; it’s been going on for far too long and, I don’t care what it takes, Jongwoon, but you are going to work this out with Kyuhyun, one way or the other.’
 
He stalks out of the apartment, leaving only a ringing silence behind.
 
It is a long time before sleep comes to Jongwoon.
 

 
When Jongwoon wakes up, it is to the familiar smell of Ryeowook cooking breakfast and the usual sounds of Hyukjae and Donghee fighting over the bathroom. He flings an arm over his eyes, wishing he could just sleep in, but then he hears Sungmin’s voice joining Ryeowook in the kitchen area and realises the impossibility of it. If everyone is already up, it must be getting late.
 
Sighing, he rolls over only to feel a plunging sensation and with a yelp, he finds himself face first on cold floorboards.
 
Huh?
 
Cracking open his eyes, he pulls himself up and looks around blearily, trying to get his bearings. It takes a full thirty seconds for him to recognise the sofa on his right and the coffee table to his left, and finally remember that he had slept in the living room last night.
 
Oh, right.
 
Groaning, he rubs at his neck, trying to get rid of the annoying crick it has got as a consequence of sleeping outside. Damn it.
 
‘Morning, hyung,’ Sungmin’s voice cuts through the haze in his mind and he looks up to see his dongsaeng towering over him. The young man throws a pointed look at the sofa. ‘Sleep well?’
 
Is it his imagination or does Sungmin’s voice have a bit of a cool, mocking tone to it?
 
‘Here.’ Before Jongwoon can wrap his mind around anything, Sungmin holds out a mug of freshly brewed coffee. ‘You look like you need it.’
 
‘Thanks,’ he mumbles, accepting the drink. Without another word, Sungmin walks back to the kitchen and Jongwoon drags himself to his feet, untangling the blanket from his body and thinking that he really needs a cold shower. His brain is literally hurting.
 
Rubbing at his eyes, he stumbles towards his room, trying to remember what his schedule is for today only to stop dead in his tracks, realising that someone is already in the doorway, blocking his entrance.
 
‘Kyuhyun...’
 
The boy has obviously just got out of bed. His hair is tousled, his pyjama top messed up and a comforter is still carelessly wrapped around his form, but his eyes – they are wide awake, dark and staring.
 
‘You slept out here.’
 
It is not a question, but a statement. Almost an accusation. Jongwoon feels his eyes widening and an emotion that almost seems like guilt grips him at the softly spoken words.
 
I...
 
Kyuhyun’s mouth tightens, almost like a grimace, and without another word, he turns and stalks back into the bedroom, but not before Jongwoon has caught a glimpse of the blatant hurt that has filled his eyes.